#just going ‘what the fuck’ real quietly on repeat

[theminecraftbee]

Tango makes a terrible, terrible face as he walks into Grian's new creation. Bit rude, he thinks that is, but whatever. Grian waves his arms out, getting ready to show Tango more than he'd shown him when the practice room was still in-progress, when Tango says:

"What did you do to it?"

"Huh?"

Tango shudders. He folds his arms over himself and looks at Jellie the ravager. "What did you do to it. To this place. Why is it... warm?"

"I mean, it's not really warm, see it's all white so it actually doesn't retain heat very well, even with the froglamps, so I had to do some work to make sure the temperature was appropriate for heavy physical activity while not risking frostbite the way the actual dungeon does, and..."

Grian trails off.

"The point is that it's mostly just, I don't know, mild temperature? Unnoticeable temperature? The fact you commented on it is weird."

There's a strangely echoing quality to Tango's voice as he steps back again, against the door to the practice room. "It's clean."

"Yeah. I mean, that's the aesthetic, isn't it? Wiped clean of everything but the ravager, the water, and the drowned. None of the distractions. Good for practicing, you know?" Grian squints. "You should like it. You said you'd like it. Wanted people to be able to practice so they'd do better at the dungeon."

Tango shudders again. "You've wiped clean the ravagers, too. I can't... touch her."

"What?" Grian says, baffled.

"What have you done to this place," Tango says.

"Listen, I won't have you insulting my clean room," Grian says. "I cleaned it of all the dungeon bits. It's nice and easy and white and understandable. I won't have you corrupting it."

Hm. Not sure where that one came from, he realizes. Probably a bad sign. He'd certainly guess as much from Tango, who is staring at him with something akin to horror.

In a voice that echoes like a card readout, Tango says: "You won't do this in the dungeon. You'll feed us what's left from this. Or I'll have to ask you to move it."

Grian rolls his eyes. "Geez, yeah, I won't touch the actual dungeon! I already broke the sound test room, I'm not breaking any really important redstone. Now, do you want to see the drowned dodging room or not?"

"I'm horrified to find out what happened to the drowned, if this is your ravager."

Grian looks between Jellie's blank stare and Tango and throws up his hands. "Nothing! I did nothing to her! I have no idea what you're on about!"

"It's like you bleached their insides," mutters Tango. "Bleached everything. It's not natural."

"Not natural? Like you're one to talk!"

"I need to know. Show me," Tango says.

"Right then. Take off your armor first, I don't want Jellie getting thorned or something, then let's practice some dodging and get in there. Then you'll see this is a perfectly normal set of eerie white rooms and leave me alone, right?"

Tango makes a face.

"I don't know why I bother. Honestly. You'd think I'd done something weird," Grian says, and then neither of them talk much, on account of the ravager trying to chew their faces.

#hermitcraft #decked out 2 #a bee fic #grian #tangotek #tango voice: what the fuck. how did you do this to the dungeon. what the FUCK #grian voice: what could i have possibly done. i just bleached the entire thing of everything that gave it life and made it hollow. #tango voice: WHAT THE FUCK #anyway i love how OPPOSITE the aesthetic of the practice room is to the actual dungeon #and how that is still somehow terrifying #also this one’s funnier if you read it as being in the universe where tango was COMPLETELY eaten because then it’s decked out itself #just going ‘what the fuck’ real quietly on repeat #but you can also read it as a universe where decked out and tango are more mutually the same thing or communicate or whatever you want

[min-gis]

[12:27 am]

''i love you,''

fingers tangled into his hair, lazy arms wrapped around your waist as the words slip past his lips. ever so quietly and equally mumbled, but you feel his lips move against your skin — and you heard him. even though the words come out mumbled and almost in a whisper, you still heard him.

‘’i love you, fuck, i love you,’’ he repeats, even though he doesn’t need to. you heard him the first time. ‘’love you so fucking much,’’ he’s borderline rambling at this point, and he knows he is. it doesn’t matter.

because he loves you, just like you love him.

‘’nothing without you,’’ he breathes, lazily snapping his hips into you. ‘’i’m nothing without you.’’ 

your legs are shaking at this point, both because of the endless orgasms he had pulled out of you and because of the position you found yourself in. ‘’mingi,’’ is all you manage to breathe out, your words coming out just as mumbled his had as you rest your head in the crook of his neck.

once rough, now soft lips press against your skin and you think you might melt into him any second. it’s warm, your bodies sticking together and you can feel the sheer layer of sweat covering the back of his neck — you don’t care. neither does mingi.

it’s no longer fucking, it’s raw. it’s intimate and it’s raw, just like you want it to be. it’s you and mingi. nothing more, nothing less. with you on his lap as he buries himself into you, it’s exactly what it’s supposed to be.

‘’no one else for me,’’ he’s not even sure what he’s saying at this point, and neither are you. ‘’there’s no one else for me, just you, it’s always going to be you,’’ he doesn’t say it to reassure you, nor is he saying it to make a statement. ‘’i’m yours,’’

raw. ‘’i’m fucking yours, forever,’’ he’s raw and he’s real. 

pent-up love and feelings he’s never gotten a chance to utter spilling past his lips, and you’re there to catch it all. and you’ll always be, because just like he’s yours — you are his.

#— ☆ mingi. #ateez smut #mingi smut #mingi hard hours #song mingi smut #song mingi hard thoughts #mingi hard thoughts #song mingi hard hours #song mingi #ateez hard hours #ateez hard thoughts #mingi x reader

[mistydeyes]

hollow apologies and avoiding glances

a continuation of this request

┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊

summary: Months after your release from the 141, you try to acclimate to life back on base. Despite time, therapy, and medication, you still are haunted by ghosts that cloud your everyday life.

pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x gn!reader (but like not even a pairing at this point lol)

okay real talk here and same psa as before but please do not read if you are not comfortable with ANY OF THIS! it is upsetting in all aspects!!

warnings: torture/violence, mentions of blood, bruises, and cuts, swearing, abusive language, ANGST WITH NO HAPPY ENDING

a/n: HOLY SHIT I didn't think this would take off like it did! thank you all so much for all the love and requests to have a followup to my initial request <3

 💌 @nadinesabre @casualunknownrunaway @originaldeerhottub @justpasssingby @missroro @josieguts @miss-i-ship-it @sicknasty03 @jojoblossom @azwong @shadofireshinobi @caramlizedtomatoes @deltottoro @kenz-ee @teehee-47 @tiredmetalenthusiast @hollowmasque

┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊

You felt the cold tile imprint on your face as Ghost loomed over you. The small shallow cuts on your cheek pooled in a sea of crimson iron on the linoleum flooring. "Please," you choked out for the thousandth time, "I promise you it's not me." Your quiet pleas for respite from the torture were met by the harsh tug at your hair. "And I promise you this won't end until you tell us what you want," he spat in your face. As he violently let you fall back to the ground, you braced yourself for another round of terror.

"Did you hear me, Sergeant?" the therapist's voice echoed in your ears. You blinked as you stared back at her, balancing your trembling hands on the table. "I'm sorry, what was the question?" you asked as you gazed shamefully at the light silver cuts that decorated your forearms. "Have you done anything nice for yourself recently?" she repeated, "go on any walks, read a new book, try a new recipe?" You tried to think of the positives during the last year but none came to mind. "I started gardening," you lied through your teeth and she nodded in respect to your answer. "That's good," she encouraged and you just wanted this to be over. "Is that all for today, Captain?" you quietly asked, "I just want to go back to my quarters." She had a tightlipped smile as she gestured that your time was done. As you got up and gripped the door handle, she had one last comment. "You can't bury yourself in work, you know," she said quietly as you looked at her, "it's not healthy." You shook your head as you entered back into the hallway. "God how fucking pathetic," you whispered, trying to hold back another barrage of tears. The least you could do was go back to your quarters and drown in the minimal comfort of sleep.

As your boots clattered on the linoleum tile, you avoided the prying eyes of your colleagues. Despite your temporary disability leave and passing numerous psych examinations, everyone knew what happened to you. Whispers reached even the highest ranks and you left the sympathy flowers out to die in the trash. You ignored the phone calls and voicemails from your previous team, even denying Laswell visits to your hospital room. When you returned, no one ever uttered a word but their gazes pierced into you whenever you walked out of your room. It was humiliating but was nothing compared to the flashes of terror when you saw the faces of your old team around the base. You had taken a desk position, something far from your skills on the field, but it was all that you could handle for the moment. However, you still brushed paths with them once in a while, walking briskly when you saw their faces emerge from a crowd. Once, Gaz tried to come up to you to offer an apology after you were issued an official one from the military. However, a strong slap to the face and a fast-paced sprint in the opposite direction was all that was needed to tell them to stay away.

"This can end if you tell us where he is," Ghost whispered in your ear. You shook your head violently and bit your lip as your face was met with a hard slap. The pain shot through your body as he followed up with a punch directly to the gut. Your ears rang with static as he gripped your chin in his bloodied, gloved hand. "That's not the answer I want, Eclipse," he said through gritted teeth, holding your face painfully. As your eyes pricked with tears in agony, he released his grip. "You're fucking pathetic," he spat, "a double agent caught so easily." You stopped resisting with words from that moment on. Despite all attempts to reason, the chance of your survival grew ever slimmer and it all depended on the actions of one man.

Your solemn walk back to your room was interrupted by the hard wall of a figure. "I'm sorry," you said looking up but your heart dropped when you saw who you ran into. It wasn't the mask that made you realize who it was but the cold, unforgiving eyes of one, Simon Riley. Out of all the visits and calls you received, you never heard a word from him. He haunted you and in some cynical way, he was a ghost both in namesake and person. As you backed away in sheer terror, you kept repeating a string of apologies and incoherent tearful babbles. He took a step towards you as you stood in absolute fear. "Please, please don't come near me," you whispered, clutching the wall as your legs began to tremble with adrenaline coursing through your veins. "I just want to talk, Y/N," he said with an unsettling amount go kindness in his tone, "I-I didn't realize you were back from leave." With the late word, you could feel something inside you break. It wasn't seeing the rest of the 141 that sent you over the edge, it was the fact that he was staring at you with the same bitter gaze that sent your blood into a fever pitch. Your feelings of terror morphed into ones of anger and absolute fury.

"You didn't realize?" you shouted, not caring about how your voice echoed through the halls, "like you even fucking cared in the first place." His eyes darted around your figure and your tears grew like molten lava on your face. "No amount of apologies or therapy or goddamn medication will ever make me forget about what you put me through," you continued, throwing a frustrated punch directly to his chest, "you fucking broke me, Simon." With that final statement, you could feel all semblance of anger and fear dissolve into emptiness. You had dreamed of an altercation, one where you could finally release all of the frustration and nightmares you had endured. But now with Simon standing in front of you, you felt as minuscule as ever. You never left that empty abyss of a room and no matter how hard you tried, he would still be that horrifying presence looming over you. As he stood there, words never coming to the surface, you pushed past him without a second look. "Try to talk to me again and I'll have a restraining order for you," you spat angrily, "and you can tell the rest of the 141 my stance."

#task force 141 x reader #task force 141 #cod x reader #call of duty modern warfare #cod mwii #modern warfare 2 #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #call of duty #john soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #gaz x reader #soap x reader #price x reader #kyle garrick x reader #john price x reader #Johnny mactavish x reader #mw2 imagine #madebyizzie #izzie is writing #eclipse!series

[princessbrunette]

telling rafe, "hm must've been one of ur other hoes," when he tries to scold you for doing something if that makes sense? like just trying to stop him from disciplining you with a little jokie joke but he's just like 😐😠

ಇ.ೀ

you swing your legs where you sit at the kitchen table, pushing your spoon around your now empty plate as rafe storms all around the kitchen — doing whatever the fuck he needed to do. he’d been neglecting you lately, busy and scatterbrained — and when he got like this, you craved being a brat.

“you— you know you’ve been a real pain in my ass all day.” he complains, opening drawers and cupboards seeming to be looking for something. you blink, eyeing him with an obvious attitude.

“have not. barely said anything to you today.”

“exactly, that — that right there.” he clicks, whirling on you to point a finger before carrying on.

“you’ve barely been around, how can i talk to you if you’re not here? i dunno, but it wasn’t me. must have been one of your other little hoes—” it’s a low blow, and you know it, the oldest cameron at your side in an instant, roughly gripping at your cheeks.

“you wanna repeat that or you wanna get fuckin’ slapped? nah, go ahead. talk your shit.” he adjusts his grip to your jaw so that you could speak if brave enough to do so. you blink up at him, wide and glassy eyed expression only making him cement the idea of a punishment in his mind. “get the hell upstairs, n’don’t make me ask you twice.” he drawls, quietly, threateningly.

shamefully, you hop off the seat and stand — taking one step away from him before he yanks you back by the shoulder nearly making you stumble. in the same second, he slaps your ass so hard it would make your head spin before shoving you off to walk again.

“other hoes. the hell’s wrong with you?” he mutters to himself as you disappear, finishing up what he was doing in the kitchen before joining you.

ಇ.ೀ

#anon #rafe cameron prompt

[spidernuggets]

Casually Proposing To Jason Todd:

Warning: Suggestive at the end

You were lying with Jason in bed while he was reading Pride and Prejudice to you. You were laying on his chest, listening to the beat of his heart.

You couldn't help but fidget with the small, black, velvet box in the pocket of your his hoodie.

You've had the ring for weeks now. You were sure you wanted to marry him, to spend the rest of your life with him. But you didn't know when would be the right time.

You also knew Jason didn't like labels. So, did he even want to marry you? Did he just like what you two have now?

You were satisfied with what you have now. But you couldn't help but want that little band around your finger as a little reminder that the two of you will be together forever.

"You still with me, mama?" his voice interrupting you from your thoughts. You look up to him, admiring his face and placing a soft kiss against one of the moles on his neck.

"Mhm, keep reading," you say, laying your head on his shoulder.

Jason bookmarks the novel, placing it on the nightstand beside him, shuffling to face you. He kisses your forehead, brushing stray hairs away from your face.

"You've been zoning out a couple of times these past couple of weeks, doll. What's up? Y'know you can talk to me," he softly says, showing hints of worry in his voice.

Your arm wraps around his torso, cuddling closer to him. Fuck it. No better time like the present.

"What would you say if I asked you to marry me?" You ask, avoiding eye contact with him while fiddling the hem of his shirt.

Jason chuckles, "Sorry, what?"

"I said what would you say if I asked you to marry me," you repeat, more quietly this time, worried that this might've been a mistake.

He playfully laughs. "I dunno babe. Maybe you'd have to ask me for real to find out," he jokes.

You take a breath and pull out the box from your pocket, opening it up to reveal the ring.

You feel Jason's breath stop for a split second, and his heart beat speeding up. He doesn't say anything, so you speak up before he gets a chance to respond.

"Jay... I know you don't like labels, but... the only person I can imagine spending the rest of my life with is you. You go on and on about how I deserve better, or I deserve to be with someone better. But you're better. You're perfect. And I do want to spend the rest of my life with you. I wanna wake up every day with you, and I wanna go to sleep every night with you. I just want you. And I know we don't have to get married to make all of that happen... I dunno it's probably stupid, but... Will you marry me?"

You look up to him with hopeful eyes, hoping he'd say yes. But he doesn't say anything. He just keeps staring at you.

"You- you don't have to say yes, I just wante-mmph!"

You were quickly interrupted with Jason's lips, colliding against your own, turning you over so he's hoverung above you. You smiled and kissed him back. When you broke the kiss, he peppered quick, small kisses around your face, making you giggle as you slid the ring on his finger.

He manoeuvred his lips to your neck. "Was this what my baby was worrying about all week? Worried that I'd say no?" His voice drops an octave, starting to nibble on your skin.

"I- I thought you didn't like labels," you say, trying to hold back your moans.

Jason couldn't help but lightly laugh at your silly thoughts.

"Fuck, mama. You could've asked me to marry you in the middle of a fight, and I still would've said yes to my pretty girl," he says, rolling his hips down against yours.

"Fuck- Jason!" You whimpered, hands gripping his curled, fluffy hair.

"Shh, relax doll. Lemme show you how much I wanna spend the rest of my life with you."

#jason todd x reader #jason todd #red hood #jason todd is my life #titans jason todd #jason todd titans #dc titans #i love jason todd #red hood x reader #jason todd headcanon #red hood x you #red hood fluff #red hood fanfiction #red hood fic #jason todd x y/n #jason todd x you #jason todd x gn!reader #jason todd ff #jason todd fluff #jason todd fanfiction

[bettysupremacy]

another request for finnick, just a lil bit of angst as him and her get into a fight and then they make up. angst and then some fluff

love letter to finnick. maybe this is like the before of this

It’s dark in the large bedroom you cave yourself in, and it seems even darker post argument.

Your eyes ache dully, even closed they beg to be soothed. You can’t believe the contents of the last hour, they play behind your eyelids as you pray for comfort. This is the worst. The worst. The watch sitting on your bedside table reads midnight when you pick it up gently.

“Fuck,” it’s cold in your hand, pulling you closer to the real world you’d tried desperately to escape with sleep.

At home in district four, you hear the waves of a homely sea outside your window. Finnick is out there, for sure, swimming in the seas he knows you don’t like him in after dark. Some of the things he said were hurtful, but he said them out of fear. Fear of what would happen to you, to the peace he’d created at the shoreline of district four.

It’s quiet until the creek of your door alerts you. It’s slow, obvious the person behind it wants you asleep, and you know it’s Finnick by the way his feet fall on the hardwood floor.

“Baby?” He whispers. The name feels good at a time like this. You hardly fight, and when you do, it isn’t even really an argument. More of a disagreement.

“Are you awake?”

You contemplate lying and the good that will come from it. Ultimately nothing, but you wait a second anyways, listening to the air in your room shuffle in his wake.

“I’m sorry.” He murmurs, voice cracking. You can hear him bring his hands up, rough palms pressing into his eyes, staving away the tears he knows bound to come.

You turn, hearing the crinkle of the crisp sheets as you face him. He flinches, he didn’t think you were awake.

“I’m sorry,” He says for a different reason now. “I thought you were asleep.”

“No,” You say quietly, for no reason other than a little shame. “can’t sleep alone.”

He steps closer daringly, pulling his shirt off before he crawls under your covers. His hair is wet and smells like salt. Any other day you’d fret over your clean sheets, but now you pull him closer, tangling your hands in his wet hair. You brush it away from his eyes, letting them roam over your face.

“We’ll be fine, Finnick.”

He lets out a strangled breath, burying into your chest. His shoulders shake miserably as he grasps you desperately.

“You heard Beetee,” You’re referencing the phone call you’d gotten after the announcement of the quarter quell. “he’s got a plan.”

You let him cry, never quieting the tears he wish he could quiet himself. It’s scary, definitely, and you can’t imagine how he feels going into the arena with you.

“It’s me and Mags.” You say definitively. “And I’m not letting her in that arena.”

He pulls up, glossy eyes terrified. “You can’t.”

She’s old, nearing the end he wants to say, but he knows it’s not right, he loves the woman.

“I’m not letting her in that arena,” you push slightly. “I can survive, see the plan through, but she’s old, Finnick, she can’t last the games again.”

He nods, defeated. “I’ll keep you safe.”

You say nothing, leaning in to kiss the corner of his mouth. Then, “I know.”

He chases the feeling of your lips, kissing you softly. “Me and you.”

“And Beetee, and wiress.”

“Me and you.” He repeats.

“And katniss, and Peeta.”

He laughs quietly, nosing at your cheek. “Stop it.”

“I’m sorry,” you preen. “Me and you.”

#finnick odair x you #finnick odair x reader #finnick odair fanfic #finnick angst #finnick fanfiction #finnick x y/n #finnick x you #finnick x reader #finnick imagine #finnick fanfic #finnick odair #hunger games finnick #finnick odair x y/n #the hunger games x y/n #the hunger games fanfiction

[querenciasturniolo]

never really over ⮕ m.s.

word count: 3.3k

warnings: swearing, angst, mention of a breakup, crying, self doubt

summary: „thought we kissed goodbye, thought we meant this time, was the last, but i guess it’s never really over”

a/n: this song played at work the other day and i started daydreaming, so here’s this LMAOOO. this song SCREAMS summer and lemme tell you, i’m so fucking sick of winter. also the picture of matt gives me heart palpitations, so enjoy.

everything written is completely fictional. the people i write for are written with characteristics and mannerisms that i made for them, this is in no way depicting what would actually happen in real life.

You knew coming home this summer was a stupid idea. Standing across the bonfire, staring directly into the dimly illuminated face you hadn’t seen in person in two years, you felt as though there was a pull screaming at you to move towards him. He hadn’t seen you yet, he was too busy laughing quietly at his brothers and a friend of his you weren’t particularly close with when the two of you were together. You, on the other hand, haven’t been able to keep your eyes off of him since you’d gotten to the party half an hour ago. It felt surreal, being in his space again after so long. It felt as though it was just yesterday you had your arms wrapped around him, your tears soaking the front of his shirt as he comforted you for the last time.

It seemed the only thing you and Matt were good at was breaking up, since it happened more often than not. Every other week you would decide that you didn’t deserve Matt and the two of you would call it quits. Then, a few days later, he’d show up at your door. He wouldn’t leave until the cycle repeated itself, but you knew he’d be back. You guys were never really over, after all.

You thought the last time you two said goodbye truly was the last time, considering you were going off to college and he was staying with his brothers to continue their YouTube career. You always knew he’d make it. Matt and his brother’s were the most genuine people you’d ever met, and it always transferred over into their videos. You watched them periodically while you were away at college, when missing him hurt so bad that you knew if you didn’t alleviate it somehow, you’d call him, and you couldn’t do that to him. The two of you promised each other that the last time was the last time, to keep the both of you from hurting each other. But seeing him only thirty feet away from you had your skin crawling in a familiar way you hadn’t felt in years.

“Who are you staring at?”

You jumped and whipped your head to the side, sighing and shaking your head when you met Nate’s eyes.

“Nothing, Nate. No one.” You said, clearing your throat and not letting your stare flicker back to Matt. You watched in horror as Nate’s eyebrows furrowed and he tracked your previous gaze until realization spread across his face.

“Matt, huh?” He asked, his voice casual as he slowly met your eyes. You hated the look on his face. It was almost as if he pitied you and your pathetic staring, which you couldn’t blame him. You scoffed and shook your head.

“No, I’m clearly staring at Dylan. What do you think?” You asked sarcastically, running a hand over your face to try and hide your embarrassment. You knew he meant well, but everyone always meant well, and they made you feel insane. They all had the same silent question; why couldn’t you just let him go? It’s been two fucking years, why did looking at him now feel the same as it did then? Your chest ached with how hard your heart was pumping against your ribcage. Goosebumps stayed prominent on every inch of your body just knowing he was so close to you. “I’m sorry, Nate. That was rude.” You said softly, moving your hand and sighing into the cool evening air.

Nate didn’t seem to take it to heart, he never really did. He was there for the entirety of your relationship with Matt, and unfortunately, he was one of the only few people who witnessed the aftermath. He’d answer your midnight texts, and when you were in town during breaks that first year of college, he’d pick you up from your house at three in the morning just for the two of you to drive around and blast music to keep your mind from racing.

“It’s been hard for him too.” He said, which was not at all what you were expecting him to say. You met his eyes with furrowed brows, though not a single one of his tells was showing. It was still hard to believe, considering how much of a mess you were when you went off to college and Matt moved to LA. Your teeth sunk into your bottom lip as you processed what he said, your heart telling you he’s genuine, but your mind telling you he’s just trying to make you feel better.

“What makes you say that?” You asked, your voice almost breathless as Nate scoffed and shrugged his shoulders.

“Oh, I dunno. Maybe the fact that I’ve known the kid for forever and we talk every single day.” He stated, your features dropping into a blank stare as he shook his head and glanced back over in Matt’s direction. You couldn’t bring yourself to look that way again, otherwise you’d be walking towards him immediately. “You’re allowed to talk to him, you know?” He said after a short while, meeting your eyes again with a soft smile. You knew he meant well, and you knew he was right, but the thought of walking over to Matt and him not wanting to talk to you had you shaking your head fervently.

“I know I can, but I also can’t. Besides, he doesn’t want to talk to me.” You said, your eyes flickering over in Matt’s direction once more. He was gone from his spot, Nick and Chris and the friend you couldn’t think of were still talking away as you furrowed your brows.

“Who doesn’t want to talk to you?”

You froze in place, your chest warming and your body relaxing the moment his voice washed over you completely. When you turned around, it felt as though a swarm of butterflies were flying behind your ribcage and hitting every single corner and bouncing off. There was no doubt in your mind he could hear it, no matter how impossible that seemed. Your eyes met the familiar cool blue, and you were back in every single moment you’d spent with him. He was smiling the same smile he always gave you, his eyes crinkling slightly as they flickered over your more than likely shocked face.

“How have you been?” He asked, his eyes meeting yours once more as you fought your useless brain to say something—anything to him.

“I’ve been alright.” You finally said, your heart hammering in your chest as your own lips stretched into a smile against your will. You couldn’t help it, he always had that effect on you. “What about you?”

Matt sighed through his nose, his shoulders dropping a few centimeters as the two of you began to fully relax again in each other’s presence. “I’ve been okay.” He said breathily, his eyebrows twitching inward as he studied you. “Were you talking about me to Nate?” He asked, the slightest hint of teasing in his voice. You snickered and shook your head, dropping your eyes to the grass below you.

“You were listening?” You teased back, lifting your head again. You couldn’t meet his eyes, so you studied his shirt. It was a simple flannel, similar to the one most of the guys at the bonfire were wearing to keep warm on this chilly Boston night. He grinned and nodded his head, dropping his eyes to his shoes right as you felt brave enough to look at him.

“Can you blame me?” He asked, his eyes meeting yours once more through his eyelashes. Your breath caught in your throat. That familiar pull was working against you without you realizing it, the space between the two of you had dwindled enough that you could feel the heat from his body, you could see the push and pull of his breaths and the rise and fall of his chest. Fuck, you missed him.

“How’s Los Angeles?” You asked dumbly, wanting to smack yourself as he inhaled softly and shrugged.

“Warm, sunny, crazy.” He mumbled. There was something in his eyes you couldn’t quite place, and it was driving you nuts. Two years ago you’d be able to tell what he was thinking just by the way he breathed, but you were out of practice. “How’s college?” He countered. You shrugged in return, a playful smile forming on your lips.

“Stressful, expensive, exhausting.” You said. Matt rolled his eyes and shook his head. His eyes were nothing but fond as they scanned over your face slowly. A million thoughts were racing through your mind at once, but all you could do was keep looking at him like it was the last time you ever would.

The two of you were silent for only a few heartbeats, the both of you just basking in the other’s presence for the first time since that last goodbye. He was the first to speak, and it took everything in you not to fall into his arms at the warmth and sincerity in his voice.

“I missed you.” His voice was only a few decibels above a whisper, but those three words were screaming in your mind the moment they left his mouth. You weren’t the only one wanting, yearning, wishing, hoping, praying, waiting. He missed you. He missed you. Your composure crumbled slightly, and you couldn’t help but smile sadly at him.

“Fuck.” You whispered, running your hands over your face and closing your eyes. “I missed you, too.” You said. Before you could open your eyes, you were pulled into his arms and against his chest. You couldn’t believe you were worried about the beating of your own heart as you listened to the rapid thumping of his against your ear. Like it was second nature, you wrapped your arms around his neck and stood on your toes to fully embrace him like you used to. Your face rested in the crook of his neck, the skin warm against the chilled tip of your nose.

He felt the same—the same warm chest and tight arms making you feel safe, the same familiar scent of vanilla bourbon soap and laundry detergent with the smallest hint of campfire, the same gentle movement of his thumb lightly caressing your back. You relaxed completely against him, his grip on you the only thing keeping you from sliding down his body and laying limp in the grass. He was so familiar, so comfortable, so fucking safe that you never wanted your embrace to end.

“Matty?” You asked, a shiver running down his spine when the warm breath from your lips puffed against his skin. He hummed in reply, swaying softly with you to the quiet music playing from someone’s car speakers. “This is gonna fuck everything up for us, isn’t it?” He didn’t pull away from you, like you expected. He didn’t stiffen either, which was odd. His lips pressed lightly against the top of your head, a soft sigh leaving your lips as you somehow relaxed further.

“I don’t care.” He whispered. You pulled back to meet his eyes, your pulse deafening in your ears as you searched for anything on his face that wasn’t sincere. Matt never broke eye contact with you, a small smile forming on his lips. “I’m being serious. These last two years have fucking sucked, and I don’t care if we fuck it up because I missed you. Can we forget about saying goodbye, just tonight?” He asked. He sounded almost breathless, begging you for just one night together like old times.

Before you could say anything, his eyes were flickering to your lips and he was leaning in. You gasped lightly, his lips barely brushing against yours as your eyes fluttered closed. Warmth completely enveloped you the moment you tightened your arms around his neck and closed the space between the two of you, the cool summer night completely forgotten as your fingers tangled in his hair and scratched lightly at his scalp.

You’d forgotten what it was like to kiss him, you’d forgotten how he’d hold the back of your neck with one hand and grip your waist with the other like his life depended on it, no matter how gentle the kiss was. It drove you wild every time, your body feeling like it was on fire as he pulled you impossibly closer to him. His kiss was gentle, soft, full of passion and yearning, yet rough, hard and full of tension and desperation. You could feel the pain he’d felt the last two years with each soft brush of his tongue against yours, and it took everything in you not to break down in tears mid kiss. Your Matty was back, and you didn’t think you’d ever be able to let him go again, even though you knew you had to.

When the two of you pulled a part for air, you couldn’t help but stare up at him with soft, gasping breaths leaving your lips. Matt’s eyes remained closed, his eyebrows furrowed tightly. He looked…miserable, and you hated it. You untangled your hands from his hair, one of your palms resting against his chest while your other hand reached up and cupped his cheek softly. Your thumb caressed the crease between his eyebrows until he relaxed, finally opening his eyes to meet yours. Every single bit of anguish you’d felt for the last two years was written all over his face. It was etched into the lines by his eyes, the twitching corners of his mouth, and it was glimmering in the cool blue of his iris’. He was in as much pain as you’d been in, and it made you want to scream.

“Did you stop loving me?” Matt asked, his voice thick and raspy. You inhaled sharply, your own brows furrowing.

“Matty, I—”

“Just.” He interrupted, exhaling deeply through his nose and looking into the flames of the fire rippling a few feet to your left. “Just answer the question, please.” He didn’t return his gaze to yours, no matter how badly you wanted him to look into your eyes and see the answer screaming out at him from your heart. You fish-mouthed for a few seconds before taking a deep, shaky breath and closing your eyes.

“I don’t think I could ever forgive myself if I stopped loving you.” You said, Matt’s gaze finally returning to yours. You smiled brokenly, letting your eyes well with the hot tears you’d been fighting since seeing him and his brothers the second you looked across the fire. Your hands clenched into fists in his flannel, your body desperate for him to stay close to you. “Loving you…fuck, loving you was the best thing I’ve ever done, even if it went up in flames. It made every argument, every bad day, every break up and reconnection worth it. I didn’t think it was possible, and I thought I was doing so well getting over you, but I love you just as much as I did the day we broke up for the last time. And it’s okay if you stopped loving me completely, because I can understand how you could.” You whispered the last few words, closing your eyes and letting the depth of your words fall over the two of you. You dropped your head, sniffling to yourself and trying to pull yourself together before you made a mess of things again.

Matt’s fingers lightly gripping your chin had a shaky exhale leaving your lips as he lifted your head. Your eyelids fluttered open, the tip of his nose almost touching yours with how close the two of you still were. His tongue peaked out to wet his lips and he opened his mouth to speak as his grip moved from your chin to his hand cupping your jaw and holding it firmly.

“The one thing I didn’t miss was the lack of faith you had in yourself being loveable.” He said clearly, firmly, matter-of-factly. He’d told you a million times before that there was absolutely no reason for him not to love you, but you never stopped looking for that one reason to present to him. “I have loved you so completely, so wholly, so entirely since the day I met you, and the day we said goodbye. You were and are the last person I think of when I fall asleep, and the first person I think of when I wake up in the morning. For so long, you were the only person I wanted to be around, and the only person I knew that I couldn’t live without.” He said, your eyes wide as you stared up at his smug face with a slack jaw.

“The fact that I came back each and every time you looked me in my face and tore my heart out of my chest, still wanting and needing to be a part of you and your life should show how much I loved and still love you. If you can’t see how deep my love for you is, then I truly don’t know what we were doing in the first place.” He finished, the tears that had welled in your eyes had begun to fall, Matt smiling softly down at you as his thumb tenderly swiped the tears away. “Don’t cry, baby. I was only telling you the truth. I’m just glad that it seems now you finally choose to believe it.”

You sniffled and shook your head up at him, not understanding how only a short time ago you were staring at him from across a bonfire, absolutely petrified of him seeing you and not being interested enough to even wave, and here you were. You were standing in his arms, only a few feet away from the fire, listening to him tell you that all of your sleepless nights full of tossing and turning, overthinking, watching him and his brothers’ videos on YouTube for some semblance of normalcy, he was missing you and loving you just as much as you were him. You couldn’t help but smile up at him and pull him closer to you, wrapping him in the tightest hug you could manage. You wanted it to feel the way his words made you feel, warm and safe and protected and loved. So fucking loved that you could hardly stand it.

“What does this mean, Matty?” You whispered against his shoulder. He sighed into your hair, his grip around your waist tightening as he shook his head.

“Just enjoy the moment, baby. We’ll talk about that later.” He mumbled, pulling away from the hug to press a kiss to your forehead, cheek, and then pressing his lips firmly to yours. It was only a firm peck, and he pulled away. “Watch the fireworks with me?” He asked. You nodded your head and turned around, letting him press himself against your back and wrap his arms around you like he’d done a million times before. His chin rested against your shoulder, and you leaned your head slightly to the side to rest your temple against his as the first firework shot into the sky. Each and every breath you took, you breathed him in, not wanting this moment to end.

It was possible that by the end of the night, the two of you would go your separate ways and leave one another again for an indefinite amount of time, or maybe even continue your cycle from two years ago. But it was also possible that the two of you would start something new, maybe change the cycle and make sure it wasn’t repeated again. You had a feeling it was one of the latter two options.

After all, you two were never really over.

tags: @strniolo , @ssturniolo , @thetriplets3 , @stvrni0lo , @gabbylovesreading , @dwntwn-strnlo , @tylerscreat0r , @toyourloves , @lvrsparadise , @angelcake-222 , @20nugs , @obsessivencrazy , @lollibumblebee , @stargirlv0id , @jellybeanbby , @idontexistman , @emssturniolo , @soursturniolo , @bernardenjoyer , @ev3rgreenxtrees , @reveriewave , @mxqdii , @leah-loves-lilies , @mattsnutsack , @champangekisses , @floofparker

#sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #matthew bernard sturniolo #matt sturniolo fic #matt sturniolo blurb #matt sturniolo angst #matt sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo x y/n #matt sturniolo oneshots #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo #the sturniolos #the sturniolo triplets #querenciasturniolo #Spotify

[anonymousewrites]

Nature of the Human Soul (Book 1) Chapter Ten

Platonic! Hazbin Hotel x Teen! Reader

Father Figure! Alastor x Teen! Reader

Chapter Ten: Deals and Darling Overlords

Summary: After a disastrous meeting with Heaven, Alastor offers Charlie a solution to the extermination problem. (Y/N) meets a new overlord.

            The portal to Heaven opened up again, and everyone looked at it expectantly. Charlie and Vaggie stepped through, one after the other. Instantly, everyone frowned. Charlie was refusing to look at Vaggie, and Vaggie looked uncomfortable and gazed at Charlie sorrowfully.

            “What the fuck happened you two?” asked Angel, as tactless as ever.

            “The, uh, meeting with Heaven didn’t go well,” said Vaggie quietly.

            “What?” said Husk, frowning.

            Charlie crossed her arms, looking down. “The extermination is still coming, and Adam is coming for the hotel first.”

            “He’s what?” said (Y/N), blinking.

            “And I just discovered I’ve been lied to,” said Charlie sadly.

            “Charlie—” Vaggie reached out.

            “You should have told me!” said Charlie.

            “Uh oh,” said Angel, looking between them.

            “I wasn’t sure how to,” said Vaggie.

            “You were an exorcist!” said Charlie. She turned away. “And you didn’t say anything to me.” She ran up the stairs before anything else could be said.

            Vaggie looked down sadly before glancing up. She cringed as she felt the weight of everyone’s eyes on her.

            “You were an exorcist?” said Husk, narrowing his eyes.

            “I was,” admitted Vaggie. “But I…I stopped. I couldn’t hurt someone, and I was punished for it.” She touched her missing eye for a moment. “I don’t regret it, though. The exorcists…they’re in the wrong.” She looked at the group. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell anyone. I wasn’t sure how. But I swear, I’m here to protect you and help you. You’re my friends.”

            “…Okay.” (Y/N) nodded.

            “Okay?” repeated Vaggie.

            “I believe you. I don’t think you’d still be here if you didn’t really believe in Charlie and the hotel,” said (Y/N). “So I believe that you know you were in the wrong as an exorcist.”

            Husk shrugged and crossed his arms. “You’re intense and mean as fuck sometimes, but you’re not that bad.”

            “I agree!” said Pentious.

            “I guess you’re fine, toots,” said Angel. “And who hasn’t done some bad stuff? We’re in Hell for a reason.”

            Vaggie smiled slightly. She was still accepted.

            “So, like, where are your wings?” Niffty went straight to her own curiosity.

            Vaggie deadpanned. “Niffty, I don’t have—”

            “Did you ever think maybe she’s sensitive about her lack of wings, just like her lack of tits?” snickered Angel. He was right back to making fun of Vaggie.

            “Yeah. Where are your tits?” said Niffty, attempting to look down Vaggie’s shirt.

            Vaggie sighed, back to being annoyed by everyone. “Any other questions?”

            “I got one.” Husk had settled in a chair with a drink. “How come every time Charlie talks to Heaven we get in deeper and deeper shit?”

            “It’s not her fault,” said Vaggie. “Angels are just—”

            “Jerks?” suggested (Y/N).

            “—difficult,” said Vaggie. “But Charlie’s trying her best.”

            “That’s turning out real well right now,” muttered Husk.

            “And what is Miss Fearless Leader doing? Is she running away from the situation? Should we be doing that?” said Angel. “Or is it time for another ‘doomed-to-fail’ plan?”

            “She’s coming up with something, I’m sure,” said Vaggie. She frowned. “In our room. Alone.”

            No one noticed Alastor melt into the shadows.

            “What could she possibly be coming up with this time?” said Husk. “The exorcists are coming sooner than ever. They’re coming for us. There is no way to fix this.”

            “I’m sure there is,” said Vaggie. “We just haven’t found it yet.”

            “I have a question,” said (Y/N).

            “What?” said Angel.

            “Does no one ever fight the angels?” they asked, twirling a vine around their finger.

            “Angels can’t be harmed. They can give us our final deaths, and we can’t do shit to them,” said Angel, rolling his eyes.

            (Y/N) frowned. “So we’re just supposed to sit here and die?”

            “That’s what Heaven wants,” growled Husk.

            “That’s super shitty,” said (Y/N).

            “Life is shitty,” said Angel. “And the afterlife.”

            “At leassst our sssituation can’t get any worssse,” said Pentious.

            On cue, a green light enveloped the entire hotel. Voodoo symbols glowed on the roof, and magical energy hummed in the air, ominous and foreboding.

            “No, no!” shouted Vaggie worriedly, running upstairs towards her and Charlie’s room.

            (Y/N) didn’t waste a second and ran up after her, determined to understand what was going on. They arrived at the hotel room a moment after Vaggie. The green light had subsided, and Alastor was walking out with a self-satisfied grin.

            “Ah, (Y/N), perfect timing,” said Alastor. “You and I are running an errand with Charlie.”

            “What happened in there?” asked (Y/N), frowning.

            “Just a little deal-making,” said Alastor cheerfully. He tapped (Y/N)’s head with his cane lightly. “Now turn that frown upside-down. We’re never fully dressed without a smile, remember?”

            “Right, right,” said (Y/N), putting on a smile.

            “Good,” said Alastor, leading the way downstairs.

            “What errand are we running?” asked (Y/N).

            “Exorcists can be killed with angelic weapons,” said Alastor.

            I knew there had to be a way to fight back, thought (Y/N).

            “We need numbers to fight, so that’s what we’re going to get,” said Alastor. His grin widened and became genuine. “We’re visiting an old friend of mine.”

            (Y/N) was about to ask if this friend would cause trouble like Mimzy, but Charlie’s voice cut through, first.

            “We have a job to do.”

            Alastor and (Y/N) turned to see Charlie emerging from her room.

            She looked back at Vaggie. “You with us?” Charlie didn’t wait for an answer and turned away. “Are you ready, Alastor?”

            “Of course,” said Alastor. “And (Y/N) is coming with us.” He neglected to mention he had decided they were.

            “Let’s go,” said Charlie, nodding firmly.

            It was time to start the preparations for one of the biggest fights of their afterlives.

l

            (Y/N) glanced at the sign saying “Cannibal Town” as they walked with Charlie and Alastor in. They really shouldn’t be surprised, it was Hell, but they learned and saw new things every day in the afterlife.

            Speaking of learning new things, (Y/N) was learning about Charlie’s current relationship issues as she rambled.

            “Three years,” groaned Charlie. “Three years I’ve been sharing my life with her. And I tell her everything. My hopes, my dreams, my insecurities, my embarrassing habits. What fucking deodorant I like. And she keeps something like this from me. Why would she lie for so long? Does she think I wouldn’t accept her? What about me, me, says un-understanding…misunderstanding? Disunder—wait, where are we?”

            “Cannibal Town!” said Alastor brightly. “There’s a friend of mine I think you two should meet.” He linked arms with Charlie and (Y/N) and escorted them towards an emporium.

            “In Cannibal Town? But it’s…” Charlie looked around and watched everyone going about their day with more decorum than many other places in the Pride Ring. “It’s…surprisingly nice here.”

            “I like how calm it is,” said (Y/N). Compared to so many other places, it really was nice.

            “Isn’t it, though?” agreed Alastor. “And it’s all thanks to a very special someone.” He pushed the doors of the emporium open, and the three stepped inside.

            “Well, who hasn’t thought about eating their first husband?” A charmingly dressed demon with skeletal features laughed lightly. “I certainly would have if he didn’t taste so bad!” She smiled at her customer. “I tell you what. You bring old tall, dark, and armless to me, and I’ll straighten them right out, okay, sweetie? Now, here’s my card, and—” She noticed Alastor. “Oh my stars. Do my eyes deceive me?” She smiled with genuine joy.

            Alastor waved, and (Y/N) noticed that he seemed truly pleased to see her.

            “Alastor? Alastor!” The woman ran up. “Where have you been?” She grabbed Alastor’s shoulders, and he smiled as she spun him around affectionately. “These halls really lost some of their sparkle without your lively presence and—” She noticed Charlie looking around. “Oh. Who’s this you brought with you? Come now, Alastor, she’s much to young for you,” she teased before laughing. “Oh, I’m just kidding. I know you’re an ace in the hole.”

            “A what now?” said Alastor, completely clueless.

            (Y/N) perked up. Alastor was asexual, like they were. That was…nice.

            The demoness woman saw them behind Alastor, and her smile widened. “And you brought another friend? Alastor, you’ve been so sociable!” She grinned at (Y/N). “You’re adorable! Look at those roses—can I touch?” she asked.

            “Uh, sure?” said (Y/N).

            The demoness gently traced a rose on (Y/N)’s head, and (Y/N) felt a smile appear on their face. She was soft and kind. “How sweet! Oh, I love roses.”

            (Y/N) really liked her energy. She felt comfortable to be around, calm and warm.

            “But where are your manners, Mister?” said the woman, putting her hands on her hips and looking at Alastor. “Introduce us, why don’t you?”

            “Ah, yes, Charlie, (Y/N), this is Rosie,” announced Alastor. “The most darling, delightful, and dangerous Overlord this side of the pentagram!”

            Rosie curtsied. “Oh, always such a charmer.”

            “And, Rosie, it’s my pleasure to introduce you first to Princess Charlie Morningstar—” Alastor pushed her forward “—daughter of Lucifer and heir to the throne of Hell!”

            “How do you do?” said Charlie nervously.

            “Well, well, isn’t this a regal surprise?” said Rosie, smiling. “And what about the little rose demon?”

            “This is (Y/N),” said Alastor. “My protégé.”

            “Hi,” said (Y/N), smiling.

            “A protégé?” Rosie raised a brow, running through all of her thoughts and opinions on that before smiling. “How nice! Alastor needs to make more friends. Now, come in, come in.” She pulled (Y/N) and Charlie farther into the emporium. “Can I offer you something to eat? I’m sure I have a leg around here or something. Oh, what am I thinking, that’s too heavy. How about something lighter on the stomach? How about some nice pinky fingers?”

            “Um, no, no. Thank you, though,” said Charlie, staring at the pinky fingers.

            “I’m alright, thank you,” said (Y/N), smiling.

            “Oh, look at you two, so polite!” Rosie patted (Y/N) and Charlie on the head. “Alastor, you could learn a thing or two.” She pulled (Y/N) and Charlie to a sitting room. “Well, sit down, sit down. Tell Auntie Rosie what she can do for you.” Charlie sat down like a client, but before any business, Rosie grinned at Alastor. “You know, Alastor, I got a primo connect on a guy with about eight blocks of territory and not enough goons to run it. Prime pickings for a deal to be made.”

            “I appreciate the offer, but we’re here on business of another kind,” said Alastor, gesturing to Charlie.

            “Well, don’t keep me in suspense,” said Rosie. She picked up her teacup. “I’m a very busy woman.”

            “Well, as you know…” Charlie cleared her throat and broke down into panic. “The extermination is coming early. It’ll be here in a month. And they’re coming for my hotel and my friends first. And I-I-I—”

            “We need your help,” said (Y/N).

            “Your cannibals’ help, at least, to fend off the attack,” added Alastor.

            “Wow, when you ask a favor, you don’t start small, do you, Your Highness?” said Rosie. Charlie’s face fell, and Rosie smiled comfortingly. “Oh, now, don’t fret. I didn’t say I wouldn’t help, but I assume there’s more to this plan than a bunch of unarmed cannibals.”

            “Oh, your people will be far from helpless when we’re done with them,” said Alastor. His grin sharpened. “And by the end, they will be able to eat their fill.”

            “Well, in that case, sure. Why not?” chirped Rosie.

            “Really?” said Charlie, eyes wide.

            “Thank you,” said (Y/N), smiling.

            “What can I say? I like your moxie, girl, and you’re just so sweet, darling,” said Rosie, smiling at Charlie and (Y/N). She grinned at Alastor, and the genuine friendship between the two was palpable. “And old Alastor has never done me wrong before.”

            “Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you!” said Charlie.

            “Yes, thanks,” agreed (Y/N), smiling. They might have a chance as long as they got the cannibals completely on their side and armed them.

            (Y/N) had a chance to keep their family.

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#nature of the human soul #hazbin hotel #x reader #gn reader #nb reader #x gn reader #x nb reader #x teen!reader #x teen reader #found family #found family trope #teen!reader #teen reader #father figure #hazbin hotel x teen!reader #platonic hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin alastor #alastor x teen!reader #alastor x teen reader #alastor x reader #alastor #hazbin hotel x teen reader

[grimesgirll]

“wouldn’t kill ya’ to smile, wouldn’t it, baby?”

your gaze goes upward from the fire you’re building to the man standing before you.

“fuck is there to smile about?” you quip quietly, pursing your lips and turning your attention back to the task at hand.

you should’ve known that would set off your ex boyfriend. the boyfriend who should really be your ex right now. you feel him behind you and eventually in front of you when he leans down to gently grasp your face. shane tilts your chin upwards in his hand while you simply glare.

“been gettin’ real tired of your attitude.”

“makes two of us.”

something in his eyes clouds and you can nearly see the frustration bubbling beneath his surface. “you know you could really have it worse somewhere else, girl.” he lets go of your chin. “you should be happy to be here and not out there alone.”

you can’t argue with him. after these past few weeks, you’d endure whatever macho act he manufactured just to make it to safety. anything at this point to get to richmond. wherever noah’s family was posted up had to be better than cannibal country or cop city.

playing the role of shane’s personal diplomat is exhausting but it’s kept conflict from escalating more than once. without you, he would’ve for sure gotten himself killed by now. it goes both ways as you can count on more than one hand the number of times he’s saved your life.

“we had a home. we’re gonna find a new one. until then you better be thankful to have someone looking out for you.” the man explains to you. “someone takin’ care of you.”

you snort. “you should be happy i let you fuck me.”

your boyfriend’s nostrils flare. “wanna repeat that?”

you don’t spare him a glance. “be happy i haven’t left you already. if it wasn’t the fucking end of times, our relationship would be toast.” you say that like it isn’t already.

but you didn’t leave him. how could you with the world falling apart around you?

and with your newfound sense of responsibility to lori and carl, staying with shane made the most sense. why not keep trying with someone who held you at night and fought tooth and nail to protect you.

that isn’t everything though.

he narrows his eyes at you. “wouldn’t be a problem if you weren’t always findin’ one.”

“you fucking lori was a problem that i found?”

he throws his hands up. “why the fuck do you keep mentionin’ lori? that’s fucked,” he scolds your name. “that’s my daughter’s mother.”

“i’m not blaming her, i’m blaming you.” you discern. “you’ve been an asshole ever since everything happened.”

“c’mere.” shane pulls you to your feet and drags you away from the fire, leaving the task to sasha who’d been sitting nearby. shane has you on your feet and moving towards the back of the rest stop your group was posted up l in. “let’s take a walk.”

“shane! i’m about to make dinner over the fire,” you complain and pull back your arm but shane just wraps you in his embrace and wills you towards the grassy picnic area facing the forest.

“c’mon, one step at a time, baby. don’t make me carry you.”

“fucker.”

“watch it,” shane warns and steers you towards a dusty wooden gazebo where rick is standing with a radio, trying to get a signal from the looks of it.

“any luck?” shane calls out like he didn’t just forcibly walk you from the fire circle out here.

the bearded man turns around. he doesn’t have to shake his head or give you two a word to answer his friend’s question. an icy blue stare goes over you and shane.

“what’s going on?”

“oh, we just thought we’d see what you were up to. see if you were busy.” the ex-cop with his arms wrapped around you from behind declares.

rick drops his radio into his back pocket. “‘m not.”

“perfect. this one wants to thank you.”

rick’s dark brow goes up in question and you shake your head, asking, “huh?”

“what? you don’t wanna thank rick? don’t be rude, baby.”

you owe the man your life a million times over.

rick had saved you, shane, judith, carl, and the others so many times. he’d led you through the debilitating winters and the most nightmare inducing storms you could imagine facing in the end of times. metaphorical or not, rick had seen you all through more than you’d ever pay him back for.

the man who stayed up with you while you settled judith and helped you soothe the little girl who didn’t belong to either of you.

the rugged man looks on from shane to you not quite comprehending. it only takes the feel of shane’s hand on your ass to understand.

fuck. not now, shane, you plead internally.

“i want you to show our friend rick how grateful you are that he’s gotten us this far. huh?” shane places a steel hand on your back as he shoves you forward towards rick, nudging you onto your knees when you’re dawdling too much for him to tolerate. “go on.”

“shane.” the man above you warns.

“no, rick.” your boyfriend stops him, dark irises widening. “i see the way she looks at you and the way you look at her. don’t feel bad about it.” he chuckles. “think about it as payback for lori.”

a “what the fuck” is breaching your lips before you know it.

“why do you talk to her like that?” rick questions, chest puffing out slightly. “everything she’s stood you through.”

shane shrugs. “i’m just thinkin’ it’d help us all relax. lower tension, y’know. after we were almost slaughtered like cattle back there.”

your mind flashes to terminus. you hadn’t seen rick, shane, and some of the other men of your group tied up and prepared to have their throats slashed, but the scene made your stomach flip.

rick looks down at you, maybe considering the fact that he does have a lot of steam to let off. nearly a year’s worth to be honest.

“you been thinkin’ about me?” he inquires with a step closer to you, dipping his hand to cup your face.

beneath your leader, you feel small. ten feet tall, you’d feel insignificant compared to rick. that man has more guts and drive than you could ever admit to. more than shane could ever dream of. the thought scratches an itch you didn’t realize lay dormant.

“yes,” you exhale sweetly, almost giving away your giggle when shane has to pick up his jaw. “especially ever since the prison fell.”

“really?”

you nod. “thank you, rick.” you express your gratitude with parted lips. “you take such good care of all of us. if you really want to use my mouth, i would blow you.”

shane is stuttering a curse and rick just whistles.

“good girl,” shane praises. “never knew you had it in you.”

you wait on your knees for rick, beaming up at him.

rick has the look of a man considering letting his best friend’s girlfriend - who he has at least fifteen years on - blow him. he thumbs your soft lips, trying to convince himself not to. even under that newly acquired hardened exterior, rick is calculated.

it’s not until he lowers his hands at his sides and croons a, “only if you want to, darlin,” that has you undoing his belt and yanking down his pants.

you slow your roll once you come into contact with his underwear. beneath those dark blue boxers is a rock hard cock.

a noise escapes you that you hope your boyfriend doesn’t hear. rick is bigger than shane. you want to burst into laughter. shane had to have seen the outline of rick’s thick cock sometime during their years together in some locker room somewhere.

thoughts of if he’ll fit or not consume you momentarily until your hands are moving automatically and you’re met with the real thing. you feel hands in your hair and tense.

“down and up. you know how to do it.”

shane is behind you with his sturdy hands on top of your head, ready to guide you down onto his friend.

“just let her do what she wants.” rick snaps at the other man, exhaling at the feel of your hand around him.

“fine.” shane throws his hands up and goes to lean against the rest stop information board.

ever the sore loser, shane pouts but lets you sink further on your knees to begin by trailing a stripe from rick’s balls up to the tip of his cock. back down you go again to lick circles around him, working a pattern with your tongue.

the noises coming out of rick have you agreeing with shane - he really needs this. after everything, rick deserves to close his eyes and let you descend below his shaft to suckle first one side, then the other, while he lays his hands in your lustrous hair.

eventually you’re lapping around again and you circle your tongue around him, eyes widening in surprise at his moans.

shane snickers. “you like her mouth, rick? me too. don’t blow your load too early, bud, i know you probably can’t help it.”

you feel the man in your mouth tense above you. he ignores shane, snapping his hips lightly into your face instead. despite the initial humiliation of the situation and the shane of it all, you find yourself getting excited. a wet patch forms and you can tell by how hard you grind down onto yourself as rick starts to twitch.

“needy slut,” shane comments.

you roll your eyes, not missing a beat as you bob up and down on your leader. his spit covered dick disappears in and out of your mouth. you do your best to fit what you can of his length that is too large for your mouth.

rick doesn’t have a problem though. all he needs is to dig a little deeper in your hair and angle his cock down your throat. you’re so startled you gag but at the same time you moan and whimper around him.

a cry around him from a particularly harsh jostle of his pelvis against your face is what it takes to start spilling in your mouth. your foggy brain can barely decipher what to do next but you remember that you’re wearing one of your favorite sweaters and suck him dry.

rick isn’t out of your mouth when shane is nearly shoving him out of the way and grasping onto you, directing your head towards his now nude dick.

“my turn,” shane takes rick’s spot instantly, not sparing you more than a breath or two before his girthy cock is against your lips.

“that’s not good for her knees, man.” rick is saying but shane just laughs.

“you weren’t sayin’ that when you were in the one in her mouth.”

shane is taking up your mouth before you know it and you gag immediately when he drives like he’s aiming for your uvula.

your noises muffle around his cock but the sheriff looking on still hears them - is still affected by then. every pump of his fellow ex-officer’s hips made you gag, forced to swallow the burning feeling building up in your throat.

rick can’t take his eyes off you. after receiving the same treatment, he’s still mesmerized by the whole thing; the spontaneity of it, how absurd it all was, how soft and plush your mouth had been, how perfect you are.

“never knew you were such a whore,” shane groans with a gasp of your name, pushing your head down when you start to slide up and off of him to say something. “fuck, you’re so good for me, baby, always have been.”

his grip is buried in your long hair. rick observes with his half hard cock in his hand, eyebrow arching lightly at the sight of shane’s face. your boyfriend tightens his grip and before you know it his cock is thrust into your throat. a few more slams of his hips and he’s holding you firmly while you gulp down his length - and his release.

shane backs out of your mouth only to snake a rough hand down your pants.

“shane!” you’re nearly squealing when he thumbs down your panties and moves towards your sensitive patch of nerves. your face is overtaken with a blush again as your leader palms his hard on on the bench next to you.

whispering low in your ear, your boyfriend hums;

“now, you wanna show rick how grateful you are with your pussy?”

#the walking dead #rick grimes #shane walsh #rick grimes x reader #shane walsh x reader #rick grimes smut #shane walsh smut #twd imagine #twd smut #rick grimes imagine #rick x reader #not beta read #threes0me #f/m/m #blowy #shane survives to season 5 #alternate universe #pretty rough #big dick rick grimes #twd #roadside mess = these three #grimesgirll #ditzy thought fr #shane warning!!

[adnauseum11]

M.I.A. (John Price x Reader)

John finally arrives home after a successful mission.

1.2 k words

CW: swearing

Feedback welcome!

Thanks for the support over this series - it's hugely appreciated!

This work is part of the S.N.A.F.U. series - Masterlist pinned to my blog.

While not explicitly written for @glitterypirateduck O Captain challenge it does fit the criteria (sorta). It's already got a lot of wonderful submissions, go check it out if you're looking for new Price fics and drabbles.

Masterlist

O Captain challenge

Ao3

The street is lonely and dark when John arrives home again. It’s late, so he’s not surprised to see the lights off in the flat. He parks and sighs, pushing his fingers through his hair. He pauses to take stock for a moment, his forearm bandaged beneath his sleeve, the dull throb almost unnoticeable unless he focuses on it. His innards are unsettled with nerves, more nerves than he felt about returning to the field. The idea that he’s still more used to the dangers of his work, life threatening as they are, than the quirks of his domestic life strikes him as terribly backwards. He debates sleeping on the couch before rejecting the thought and scooping his rucksack from the trunk with a heavy sigh and heading inside.

It's quiet in the gloomy flat, the ticking of the clock on the wall way too loud to John’s recently recalibrated ears. He carefully sets the rucksack off to the side and takes his boots and jacket off as quietly as he can manage, creeping down the hallway to the bedroom. It’s nearly pitch black, and he moves through the space on memory, shucking his clothing. It isn’t until he’s carefully lifting the covers that he realizes he can’t hear breathing.

Reaching cautiously across the cool sheets, John’s heart gives an extra hard kick when his hand doesn’t collide with a warm, sleeping form as expected. It collides with absolutely nothing, swiping through the sheets unimpeded. Panic spikes in his brain and he’s stumbling off the bed to hit the light switch, needing his eyes to confirm what his body has already discovered.   

Light floods the room and reveals the empty side of the bed. For a moment John feels like he can’t breathe, his lungs emptying without the ability to refill. The panic swirling through him feels too large for his body and he can’t stop the surprised wheeze that ekes out, unbidden.

His first instinct is to check for a note, and he vaults over the bed to check the bedside table. When that turns up nothing he heads for the bathroom, his eyes scanning across the countertop and mirror, only to find his own alarmed reflection. John forces himself to take deep breaths as he moves back into the bedroom, opening his drawers and pulling on a fresh shirt and jeans by rote. He’s exhausted, not having slept in a real bed in days, but adrenaline is coursing through him with a sharpness he can’t refute. Sleep will not be had any time soon.

He methodically checks the rest of the apartment, turning lights on and finding the blanket on the couch unfolded and abandoned, half wedged under a cushion. It doesn’t take a genius to see you had slept on the couch at some point before your departure. There’s no sign of a struggle, just an empty wine bottle and one glass with lip prints all over it. John repeats that there’s no signs of a struggle to himself, over and over as he pads back down the hallway to his bedroom, collecting his phone.

He pauses, internally debating whether or not to press the call button that his thumb is hovering over. The weight of the last few days lands on John’s shoulders firmly and he hits ‘call’ with a deep sigh that rattles the lining of his lungs. It almost goes to voicemail before the call connects.

“This had better be good.”

The familiar but groggy voice on the other end grumbles by way of greeting.

“I fucked up, Kate. She’s gone.”

“Wait, wait, what?”

John can hear Kate’s heaved sigh and rustling over the line, a hushed but urgent conversation being had in the background.

“She’s gone. I got home and she’s not here. There’s no sign of a struggle but I just…I can’t sleep. I won’t be able to sleep. I need to know she left by her own power, not dragged out of here. Please Kate. Can you pull CCTV footage, there’s one across the street-”

“Alright, hold on. Hold on, John.”

Kate’s trying to interrupt John’s flow of information. John finally stops talking, the silence on the line unnaturally tense.

“I’m up, I’m logging in, just…give me a second to play catch up.”

John grunts an affirmation, pacing back and forth at the end of the bed, the neatly made linens ramping his anxiety up. Either you never slept in the bed after he left, or you took the time to make the bed in John’s exacting military style. If he was a betting man, he knows which of the two options he would pick, which only serves to heighten his agitation.

“Ok, let’s go over this again. You say she’s gone?”

“She’s not fucking here Kate.”

“Ok, alright, let me look, I’m locating the CCTV across the road from your place now. I’m going to go ahead and guess your conversation did not go well before you left?”

“No. She said I’m making choices for her without involving her in the discussion first.”

“Well, that tracks, to be fair, John. She’s not under your command, remember.”

John’s sigh turns in to a growl, pushing his fingers through his hair while he paces, waiting for more information. Kate’s end is silent for what feels like an eternity as she works through the footage cache of the past few days.

 “Looks like she left the day after you did. A car picked her up in the morning – she took a bag. No note or anything, saying she’s visiting someone?”

“No, I’ve looked. Nothing.”

There’s silence again on the other end of the line for a minute before Kate speaks.

“John, I’m saying this because its Christmastime and you’ve had a hell of a run lately and I can tell this woman means a lot to you. I know what you are about to ask me. Tracking civilians without any cause is very much frowned upon, as you know, and if she didn’t tell you where she was going, she might not be happy to see you if you decide to follow up. Understand? Don’t sabotage yourself. Try to sit tight for a few days. If she’s still not back, get in touch and I’ll see what I can dig up. Right now, respect the distance.”

There’s a warning in Kate’s hushed voice, and John does his level best to reign himself in and heed it.

“Kate- “

“Listen, It’s alright John, she’s moved in now, right? She’ll be back. Figure out how to make it right in the meantime. Try to get some sleep if you can.”

Kate isn’t saying anything John doesn’t already know, but hearing it from her solidifies it somehow.

“Shit. Shit. Yeah. Yeah, alright. Thanks Kate. Sorry.”

“I’ll pass that ‘sorry’ directly on to my wife. At ease, Captain. Nothing more to be done right now, unfortunately. Get some rest.”

Kate is the voice of reason, even though John knows he’s unlikely to sleep and everything in him is screaming at him to find out more. He forces himself to swallow his arguments and listen to his old friend.

“Rog that, Kate. Thanks, again.”

Next Chapter

Taglist: @deadbranch @beebeechaos @cadotoast @syoddeye @writeforfandoms @itr-00 @chloepluto1306 @batw3nch @magsmagic @chickennn-soupp @h0n3y-l3m0n05

#fanfic #john price x reader #captain john price #john price #john price cod #john price x f!reader #friends to lovers #john price x you #captain price #captain john price x reader #cod fanfic #ao3 fanfic #fanfiction

[multifandomsw]

Apologies

Part 8

Harry Styles x reader

summary: After an encounter with your old best friend, she gave you her number to catch up. When you decide to send her a message, someone else replies. Was it destiny?

Harry Styles x Reader

warnings: angst, fluff?

author’s note: I know this is short, but this part is very crucial to the story and marks the end of an era. The next chapter is a “new beginning”.

You pushed through the people, mumbling incoherent apologies with only one goal: leaving this goddamn stadium.

The crowd had gone quiet. You wondered if it was because Harry Styles had left the stage to run after you-

No.

Why the fuck would Harry Styles follow you?

Why the fuck would Harry Styles even talk to you in the first place?

It didn’t make any sense, as much as you tried to make sense of it all on your way out of the stadium, your brain just couldn’t comprehend and couldn’t believe that H had been Harry Styles all along.

Surely there must have been a mistake. Surely this was all a misunderstanding.

But Harry Styles did call after you when you left the VIP tent.

Were you imagining things now? Were you going completely crazy?

Were you dreaming? Yes, yes, you had to be dreaming, elseways this didn’t make any-

“Y/n.”, someone called after you and you heard their heavy and fast footsteps as they made their way towards you.

Your whole body froze. Your mind stopped working for a second as you took everything in. You didn’t want to turn around, you didn’t want to be met with the sight of him.

Because then it would be real. Everything would be real.

You noticed the person slowing down behind you, noticed the person’s heavy breathing. They had been running.

The voice repeated your name, not as urgently as before, but softer and more pleading. “Please”, the person continued, their voice cracking at the end of the simple word.

You took a deep breath and turned around slowly. Nothing could have prepared you for the sight. Harry Styles was standing only a few feet away from you. His hair was messed up, as if he had gone through it with his hands multiple times. You noticed a bead of sweat rolling down his face and when you met his eyes, your heart truly stopped.

His eyes were filled with tears. Only a few more blinks and they would fall down his cheeks.

They were pleading. Pleading for you to say something, anything, but the only thing you could do was stare at him.

You noticed him swallow, watched as his adam apple bobbed but you but you both just continued staring at each other.

It was ironic really, how you stood so close to one other, yet so far away. It was as if an ocean was separating you two.

He was Harry fucking Styles and you, you were just you.

The smell of his perfume hit your nose and you wanted to cry at how familiar it smelled, at how familiar he smelled. Like warm fresh washed bedsheets. Like home?

Goosebumps raised on your skin as you felt a raindrop touch it. It was beginning to rain.

It was as if the rain sent you back into reality. All of your thoughts that had stopped while you were admiring Harry Styles came back at once.

All of it became reality. You were standing in front of H. He was the person you trusted with your heart, the person you told everything to, the person you learned to adore, love even in the past few months.

And yet, this was not H at all.

In front of you stood a liar.

“Was-“, you began, your face morphing from shock into disappointment. “Anything of it even real?”, you whispered with a shaky voice, watching as Harry’s hair got wet from the rains and sticked to his forehead.

You watched Harry’s face fall. “What?”, he whispered quietly, brokenly.

“Was everything you told me a lie?”, you demanded now, your voice firmer.

“No.”, Harry answered without hesitation. “Nothing was a lie, I swear-“

“Nothing was a lie?”, you laughed, your voice filled with sarcasm even though you just wanted to cry. “How about your whole fucking identity?”

He took a step forward, but stopped in his tracks when you took one step back. “Cherry-“, he began, but his words were cut off by your own, filled with venom. “Do not call me that.”

You thought you saw his eyes darken, but you didn’t dwell on it. “Okay.”, he whispered, defeatedly and opted to say your name instead. “I swear on my life, everything else, everything besides that, was real.”

“There’s not much left to be real!”, your voice was louder, but cracked at the end of the sentence. “Did you- did you use me? Are you making fun of me? Is this a joke? Do you casually mess around with your fans? Are you doing this because you’re bored-“

“Stop.”, Harry demanded, the tears now falling freely from his eyes. “I would never do that. You of all people should know that.”

“I don’t know shit!”, you argued. “Why would you- why the fuck would you do this then?”

Harry, for the first time since the conversation started, moved his eyes away from yours and to the ground. He looked so vulnerable, you almost felt sorry for him.

Almost.

“I wanted to tell you I swear, but you knew the real me. Not Harry Styles. You knew H. There were no expectations, there was no judgment. I was going to tell you eventually.”, he admitted, more to himself than you and raised his head again.

“As if I had treated you differently just because you’re a popstar. As if I had judged you!”

“No, no, I know you wouldn’t have, just..”, Harry gulped and stopped his sentence.

“Just what? You fucking lied to me! I thought we had something, I thought you cared about me. But once again, I was foolish enough to think that anyone would-“

Harry had enough, he took a step forward, and then another and silenced you in doing so. He only stopped when he was inches away from you, your faces so close that you could feel his heavy breathing on your face, so close that you could see the tears falling from his eyes, mixing with the raindrops falling from the sky. “You know I care about you. I love you.”, he admitted finally.

A laugh was the only response you could get out. “You don’t fucking know me. I don’t fucking know you.”, you shook your head multiple times. “Harry.”, you began, saying his name out loud for the first time. “If you loved me, you wouldn’t have lied to me.”, you let out with tears falling down your face and with your lip trembling.

“I do! I love you so much it hurts-“, he was interrupted when you pounded your fist against his chest.

“You lied to me.”, you let out the first sob. “You fucking lied to me.”, you continued pounding against his chest. “I thought, I thought someone finally cared for me.”

Harry swiftly grabbed your fists, trying to stop you and trying to reason with you. “Cherry, I do. I care about you more than you could ever comprehend.”, he tried to catch your eyes. “Please, please look at me.”

You shook your head, trying to get out of his grip. Harry let go of your wrists, but didn’t hesitate to place his hands on both of your cheeks, practically forcing you to look at him. “Oh, Cherry.”, he whispered as he attempted to wipe the tears, along with the raindrops, from your cheeks. “I’m so sorry. For all of it.“, his voice was soft and his eyes didn’t leave yours for even a second, even though he wanted to admire your features. Desperately.

The warmth of his hands on your cheek, the closeness of him, made your heart beat a thousand times faster. Even though you were angry, even though you were so fucking angry at him, you just wanted to lean in and kiss him. To feel his lips on yours for the first and for the last time.

You closed your eyes for a second, trying to think rationally, but when you opened them again, they moved to his full and rosy lips.

You leaned closer, feeling his nose brush against yours. “Please, Cherry, let me love you.”, he whispered, his warm breath softly tickling your face. “You don’t love me, you lied to me.”, you answered, but didn’t pull away. Instead, you leaned even closer. “I do I-“

Before Harry could finish his sentence, you just leaned in, your lips crashing with his. The first thing you noticed were the warmness, the softness and the sweet taste of his lips as he slowly and carefully moved them against yours. It felt electrifying, your heartbeat increasing even more as he caressed your cheeks with his thumbs. The kiss was desperate, but it didn‘t feel like it at all. It was soft and gentle and sweet and everything you imagined your first kiss with Harry to feel like. The tears continued falling down both of your cheeks, but the salty taste wasn‘t what was making you stop-

Your rational mind was.

He had lied to you and here you were kissing him?

You pulled away and watched the hurt flash across his eyes. He searched your eyes for the reason for your sudden change in behavior, but he didn‘t come far, because then you were practically throwing yourself into his arms, clinging to him and sobbing into his chest.

Harry didn‘t hesitate to cradle your head. “It’s going to be okay. It’s going to be okay, I swear.”, he promised while he slowly pulled you to sit on the ground with him, pulling you into his lap and holding you as close as it was anatomically possible.

He let you sob into his shoulder, caressing your back softly and gently while he fought his own sobs.

You wanted to yell at him, you wanted to put as much distance between you two as you possibly could, but you needed, you craved his touch.

You didn’t know how long you just sobbed into his shoulder, but you were eventually both interrupted by someone coughing next to you.

You instantly pulled away, trying to wipe your tears away as you stood up and met Lucy’s eyes.

“There you are!”, she exclaimed, moving her gaze to Harry. “Everyone’s looking for you. They say that the show must go on.”

“I can’t continue. Not now.”, Harry decided, not even hesitating as he stood up too.

“Harry.”, Lucy stressed. “Your fans are all waiting for you. They paid to be here today. You have to finish the show.”

Before Harry could answer, you chimed in. “I’ll just go.”

“No, come on, we’ll just go back to the VIP tent, Harry’s going to finish his show and then you can continue to talk.”

You furrowed your eyebrows as you watched her closely. “You and Harry are friends.”, you observed. “You knew all along, didn’t you?”, you moved from her eyes to Harry’s and when no one answered, you had your answer.

“Wait.”, you whispered, shaking your head again. “So us meeting was not a coincidence?”, you questioned. “Did- did you ask her to befriend me?”, you turned to Harry, your lips trembling once again.

He stared at you once again, before he slowly and carefully nodded his head.

So the whole friendship with Lucy was a lie to.

“Great.”, you scoffed. “So not only was everything you told me a lie, the whole friendship with Lucy was a lie, too.”, you directed towards him.

“I just wanted-“, Harry began, but you cut him off.

“Bullshit! Stop with the fucking bullshit! What else was a lie?”

Lucy whispered your name quietly. “I swear, maybe he asked me to befriend you, but when I got to know you, I realized how great you are and that I truly want to be your friend. I swear.”

“I can’t listen to all of your fucking lies anymore!”, you shouted this time, taking both Lucy and Harry aback.

“Cherry, please, just let me explain everything-“, Harry began, stepping closer again and fighting every urge to pull you into his arms once again.

“I don’t.”, you began, stepping back. “Want to ever see you both again.”

Harry’s whole face turned into one of anguish. “No. No.”, he whispered. “Cherry, please, one more chance. Please, let me take you home, let me-“

“No. This is over. In every way possible.”, you let the tears fall freely again. “You don’t love me and I sure as hell don’t love you.”

You watched Harry’s lip tremble, watched him struggle to find any words before you turned around and finally left.

“Not anymore.”, you whispered to yourself.

taglist: @st-ev-ie @hsstylesrings @bubblespower101 @ravisinghs-wife @mopeymousey @shishcabobsworld @stylesfever @valntynebaby @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @harryspirate @xxlunathewitchxx @hannah9921 @fingermonkey101 @amateurduck @babyiamperfectforyou @ravisinghs-wife @creativelyeva @fanficismydrug @manrocket-mo @crimeshowjunkie @lomlolivia @pagesfalling @harryssky1 @buckybarnessimpp @melancholy-help @annesauriol @tea-and-toast463 @sheslikeacurse @kuntxrgraudunkelbunt @white-wolf-buckaroo @itsgigikay @cherrystyle @be-with-me-so-happily

#harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles angst #harry styles fanfiction

[miserable-sarah]

Bad Boy

18+

Pairings: Demon Sam x Reader

Warnings: Dark sex, NSFW, unprotected, fingering, dirty talk, language, Dark Sam

Summary: Sam is possessed, and hot af.

“I’m going to look for him” Dean mutters out

“I’m going to look for him” Dean mutters out

“Dean stop! He probably stopped somewhere. He’s fine”

“Listen no offense but you don’t know what’s been going on with Sam. He’s just-“ Dean stops talking

“He’s just what?” You cross your arms.

“He’s just not himself lately.” Dean says quietly walking out of the bar. You roll your eyes at him. Sam wouldn’t do anything stupid he probably stopped for food or beer. He’s not in trouble. You wipe down the tables in the bar and get to the bar counter, you here the door jingle.

“Sorry we’re closed” you yell out not even looking.

“I know” you hear a familiar voice

“Sam” you smile “where have you been Dean is worried sick”

“Oh is he?” He says walking up to you getting closer and closer you back up until your back is against the counter

“Y-yeah he is” you stutter

“Is be here?” He asks his chest inches from yours. You shake your head ‘no’

“No he left. He went looking for you” you say despite your mouth going dry.

“Oh he did” his is deeper and rougher. You swallow thickly. His body is pressing against yours “that’s a good thing isn’t it?” He says In a whisper. You shake your head yes. Sam flips you around so your back is pressed to his chest. His hand on your throat. “Yeah I thought so too” he pushes your face into the counter and holds it there by pressing down on the back of your throat.

“S-Sam what are you doing?” You choke out confused and extremely horny. He’s got you soaking right now and he has no idea.

“Having some fun. Giving into temptations” he says so calmly there’s almost something wrong with it. “You want this don’t you?” He chuckles “actually I already know you do. You slut” he’s harsh about it, which makes you even more wet. You wiggle your ass trying to feel him, he laughs at you. “Wow look how pathetic and desperate you are”

Where the hell did soft Sammy go who is this person. You’re not complaining but oh my god. He couldn’t be hotter. Sam lifted your your skirt showing off your lacy white thong. “Hmm white. For purity?” He says messing with the hem. You squeeze your thighs together trying to feel something. “Oh but there is nothing pure about you is there?” his words ring in your head, you can't even think straight. Your whole vocabulary went to "Oh my god, fuck me, I need you." He moves your thong to the side giving him access to your clit. He gathers some of your wetness and uses it as a lube, he rubs your clit, you bite your lip so hard you think you're bleeding you close your eyes tight trying your hardest not to move.

"You like this don't you" you can feel him smirking "Don't you" he says slapping your pussy causing you to jump

"Yes" you say barely audible

"I know" He says in a mocking voice you let out a shaky breath. Your body starts to shake, you close your eyes and let out a long moan. "Already close?" He chuckles "I haven't even put my fingers in you yet"

Your face is still against the cold counter, your breathing is picking up faster and faster. This entire situation is something you dreamed of you never ever thought it would be happening in real life. Sam this hot, this rough. It seems so unnatural but you don't care.

"Please" You moan not even knowing what you're asking for, you just want to feel something.

"Please?" he completely slides off your thong slowly.

"Please" You repeat. Sam chuckles darkly and enters a finger in you, he slides right in because of how wet you are. You let out little moans. Sam bit down on your shoulder, then kisses your back. He adds another finger, his other hand slides up your shirt.

"No bra?" he asks shocked "not so innocent" he teases your nipple, tweaking and twisting it. You try to move your head but he stops you.

"Sam" you moan

"Don't move." He tells you sternly. You bite your lip and try not to move at all. Your legs are starting to shake, you try so hard not to let them. Sam's grip on your neck gets tighter he shakes his hand a little. "Don't. Fucking. Move." He says through his teeth. Sam removes his fingers from you and shoves them in your mouth. You take them suck on them swirling your tongue. "Good girl" He says in your ear. You can hear messing with his belt and pants. You feel a hard something at your entrance you moan loudly just thinking of his cock inside you.

"I see you're ready, so needy. I bet you can't wait to feel so full of me you can't even think straight. You're going to get so cockdrunk you won't even remember your pretty little name." He says in your ear.

"Please Sam. Please fuck me" you beg. Sam slams into you without warning and keeps going, giving you no time to adjust. You scream out in pain and pleasure. "Oh my god, keep going" You grip onto the counter so hard your knuckles turn white. Sam stops. You let out a big confused breath.

"Don't tell me what to do. okay?" his hand squeezes your cheeks. You nod your head yes. "Good" Sam says roughly letting go of you. He continues to pound into you. Your moans are echoing off the walls in the bar. His grunts and groans only turn you on even more. You can feel your wetness going down to your thighs.

"God you're such a mess for me" Sam grabs a handful of your hair, he finally lets go of your neck. You arch your back and Sam pulls on your hair bringing your head back. Your moan gets even louder, Sam's thrusts get even harder and deeper. "Who knew, a girl like you. Always playing so innocent would love to be fucked like this" He whispers in your ear before nibbling on it. "I would, because I see right through you. You're a slut, a slut for a man with authority." You don't say anything, you just close your eyes and try really hard to cum all over him right now. "Oh getting close are we? I can feel squeezing my cock even more."

Your mouth hangs open just a little, you know you're making noise but you can't understand what's coming out of your mouth. You're starting to see stars even though you're trying really hard not to. You feel a sharp pain on your cheek.

"I asked you a question" Sam yells.

"W-what?" You ask sloppy not even sure he could understand you

"You're close to cumming all over my cock aren't you?"

"Yes" You moan out. "Yes, yes" Your legs start shaking and your entire body tenses up, you've never felt anything like it. "Oh my- Sam!" All you saw was black, you're screaming Sam's name. He holds you up and continues fucking you hard, and rough. You're screaming and trying to squirm away. Sam wraps his arms around pressing you to his chest keeping you still.

"You love this don't you, being used like a toy, being used so I can get all my anger out." you lay your head on his shoulder not even able to form words or think. "I'm going cum in you, fill you up even more"

You nod your head and little whimpers escape your lips. His thrusts become sloppy, his moans become louder. He squeezes his arms around you tighter so much it hurts. You feel Sam fill you up with his hot cum. He loosens his grip on you, you breath heavy and so does he.

"Wow" you say breathless. Sam pushes you back down over the counter, he slides up your panties and fixes your skirt, he fixes himself as well.

"Y/n" Dean busts through the door. He stops when he sees you and Sam there, your hair a mess, you breathing heavy, and your cheek red, your eyes glossy. "Sam" he says softly, he pulls out a bottle of holy water and splashes it on him, Sam has an immediate reaction. You cover your mouth gasping.

"He's a demon?!"

"Of course I am, pretty" He smirks at you.

"That's why he hit you, Y/n" Dean says keeping his eyes on him. Sam laughs loudly.

"That's not why I 'hit' her" Sam says walking towards Dean "I fucked her"

"What?" Dean says through his teeth, you stand there not knowing what to say.

"I. Fucked. Her." He says proudly "Oh and she loved it"

"Y/n is this true? Did he-?" Dean doesn't even finish the question

"Oh what Dean, still got that little crush? Well so does Sammy and he got to her first" Dean doesn't say anything. He watches as Sam walks out of the motel and he runs to you pulling you in for a hug.

"Are you alright?" You shake your head yes not even looking at him, your mind is racing, what just happened?

~~

Hope you enjoyed it! I'm re-watching supernatural and something about season 2 Demon Sam gets me. Thanks for reading! Feedback welcome! Like/comment/reblog!

#sam winchester crush #sam whinchester #sam and dean #sam winchester smut #sam winhchester dark #Sam winchester dark #sam winchester imagine #sam winchester x y/n #dean winchester #dean winchester smut #Sam winchester gif

[cranberrymoons]

may your days be merry

prompt: angst with a happy ending (@steddieholidaydrabbles) word count: 942 rated: t tags: post-s2, steve has head trauma, eddie sells drugs

welcome to Day 14 of the fic advent calendar – bite-sized fics posting every day during the month of december. enjoy!

The headaches start shortly after the second time he gets his ass kicked. 

The ass-kicking happens around Halloween, and the headaches start around Thanksgiving, and he buys weed from Eddie Munson for the first time around Christmas. 

He can mark it out like that: holiday after holiday, little milestones in the deterioration of his brain. He wonders if it’s going to do something to him long-term: the weed or the ass-kicking or the headaches themselves or maybe even all of it. 

Probably. 

A guy doesn’t usually get his brain punched through the back of his skull without some sort of lasting consequence.

The first time he buys, it’s out of desperation more than any real desire to get high; it’s been days since he properly slept, migraines acting up again and making it so that his scalp feels like it’s going to dissolve into atoms and vibrate off his head if he actually lays down all the way, so he’s been sleeping sitting up. 

Sort of, propped on a stack of pillows culled from the rest of the house, but it’s not exactly the most comfortable arrangement. One of the guys on the swim team had mentioned that weed can help chill you out, turn off your brain, make it so your thoughts don’t go spinning out in a thousand different directions like Steve’s do if he’s not careful about keeping a tight hold on his head.

Literally, figuratively.

His head’s all sorts of out to get him lately, ever since last year. 

The first headache, the worst one – not worst in the sense of worst pain, but worst in the sense of like… he just wasn’t expecting it, and so it really fucked up his whole week – that headache came two days before Thanksgiving, when he was on a plane halfway between Indianapolis and New York to visit his grandparents. His parents were sitting two rows ahead of him and unable to help as the changing pressure in the cabin turned his brain to splinters.

By the time they’d landed, the headache had gone away, and so he didn’t mention it, but then it came again and again and again, and so now he’s here. 

Here in the doorway of Eddie Munson’s trailer, feeling like he hasn’t slept in days, because he hasn’t. Feeling like there’s nothing holding him up except sheer force of will. Feeling so, so impossibly alone. 

When Eddie answers the door, there’s an old movie playing on the TV in the background, something festive and cheerful with a bunch of songs in it. Steve’s eyes catch on the screen as he watches Bing Crosby tap dance in technicolor.

“What do you want?” Eddie repeats, ducking his head to force Steve to meet his eye. He even snaps his fingers a few times to get his attention. “Weed? Coke? Party drugs?”

Steve blinks, long and slow. He sways a little on the spot, clears his throat. 

“Not partying,” he says quietly. He looks down at his feet in his sneakers and Eddie’s feet in his socks, the two of them only a foot apart. “I just need to sleep.”

A line appears between Eddie’s eyebrows. He tilts his head toward Steve. “Are you like… okay?”

And that’s – Steve lets out a little laugh that sounds something like a sob, and that’s – 

“No.” He runs a hand back through his hair. “No, man. I’m not okay.”

No one’s asked him that in at least a year. He feels like crying. He thinks he actually might.

Eddie nods slowly, taking him in. “Right on,” he says. Then he opens the door a little wider. “You want to come in? Christmas movie marathon.”

Steve raises his eyebrows, looks between Eddie and the room behind him. “You want to hang out with me?”

“If you’ll deign to grace me with your royal presence,” Eddie says. He widens his eyes, and it’s a little teasing. A little funny, and Steve feels the corners of his mouth twitch with the first smile he’s had in days as Eddie swings the door even wider, letting him inside with a weird little bow and a flourish. “My liege.”

“What’re you watching?” Steve asks as he shrugs out of his coat. 

He hangs it neatly on the hook near the door and looks around the room as Eddie clatters to the fridge to pull out two beers, cracking both open and passing one to him. Steve accepts it, leaning his hip against the counter as Eddie stares at him from where he’s relaxed back against the sink.

“White Christmas,” he says. “But it sucks.”

Steve laughs a little – an actual laugh, bubbling up out of his chest before he can stop it. He takes a swig of his own beer and glances back toward the screen. 

“Got any other options?”

Eddie grins. “Gremlins.”

Steve frowns, shaking his head. “That’s not a Christmas movie.”

“What?” Eddie scoffs. “Please, it totally is.”

“In what way is Gremlins a Christmas movie?”

Eddie’s eyes flash as he pushes himself off the counter, giving Steve a look as he passes by on his way to the living room. He collapses on the couch, feet up on the coffee table. 

“Guess I’ll just have to prove it to you,” he says, tilting his head to the side.

And Steve – exhausted and relieved because his headache is all but forgotten – crosses the room to join him, curling his legs under himself as he sinks down to sit. Eddie’s eyes skate over him as he reaches for the remote, face unreadable, and Steve just smiles back.

[also on ao3]

#steddie #steddie fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #steddieholidaydrabbles #my fic

[happynowyo]

Stubbornness, part 2

Fandom: Six of Crows

Pairing: Kaz Brekker x Fem!Reader

Warnings: mentions of touch aversion, some smut

Summary: The early morning comes and you face some new opportunities along with the pleasure as Kaz's trying new things.

Word count: 3,1k

Part 1

After dawn you woke up with this weird feeling that you already had enough sleep. During the evening Kaz had been quite generous with lots of kisses and had distracted you with his caress, so it was entirely his fault that you'd just dreamt about someone caressing you. These intriguing images were still fresh in your mind. You blushed involuntarily and squinted sleepily as you looked around the small bedroom, lit by the soft dawn light.

Suddenly you froze and your eyes widened with surprise. You were definitely awake, but for some reason you could still feel someone else's touches. You realized what was happening so slowly, almost reluctantly, rejecting the frightening reality to the last. It was Kaz. It was sleeping Kaz who was really fucking touching you.

You tensed, and panic quickly filled your body. The incomprehension of what was happening overtook you as swiftly as the telltale heat, that made your cheeks visibly blush. Kaz's thin, strikingly hot fingers, meanwhile, continued their slow march under your T-shirt along your stomach and reached your ribs before they went up to your chest.

Your first thought was to bounce back and wake him up, to remember boundaries and decency and to ask, "What the fuck are you doing?". But the same question you could have asked yourself. An inner voice insisted on getting out of that bed, sprinkling everything with a massive amount of exquisite curses.

Because you didn't do anything. Curiosity became almost morbid, so you continued to lie quietly on your back with your right leg bent at the knee, holding your breath, just stiffened by every new touch. You knew that Kaz's feelings for you were real, and you were well aware of his ambivalent attitude when he was desperate to touch you and scared of doing so at the same time. But you couldn't imagine how much he was drawn to you, since his mind was able to break through the barriers created by time and make him forget about this eternal self-control at least in his sleep.

Was he dreaming something similar to what was happening in reality? Had it happened before? How did Kaz react to it? All of these questions seriously bothered you, but more important was how your body reacted to this unhurried caress. Kaz's fingers gently moved to your breast and squeezed lightly, making you swallow convulsively and tense up. Your stomach cramped with sweet anticipation, though your mind was still trying to find a decent way out.

Meanwhile, Kaz had his hands around your already hard nipple, playing with it unobtrusively. "God, make him stop", you couldn't take it. "No, don't stop".

Kaz's palm slid gently back onto your belly. His naughty fingers began to trace indistinct patterns, and your breathing quickened. The tips of his fingers literally danced on your bare skin and got closer and closer to the edge of your pajama pants, and that made the obvious desire grow stronger. You could literally feel how your underwear was getting wet, but Kaz's sharp sigh instantly caught your attention.

He was awake now, but his mind obviously needed some time to go into what was going on around him. You'd noticed this in the previous nights you'd spent together. The worst part now wasn't even that you'd have to throw an accusing and astonished question like "Why the hell did you touch me?" at him. It was that you wouldn't have found right words to respond to his fair one, "Why the hell didn't you stop me?".

His loud sigh repeated, and without even looking at him, you could imagine the shock that instantly overtook him at the realization that his fingers were freely touching your belly without the barrier of his usual gloves or an extra layer of clothing. Kaz tensed, but you managed to catch his hand, gently holding his wrist in its former position, before you turned your head smoothly to meet his worried and agitated gaze.

— It's all right. You didn't do anything wrong.

You needed to calm him down before panic took over his mind, so you tried to use the softest and most affectionate tone possible. Kaz's gaze slid tensely across your face, searching for a catch, and you were curious as to what exactly he had seen in his dream before. The question was already on the tip of your tongue, but you didn't want to add any more reason for Kaz to worry.

— But I did do something, didn't I?

His thoughts were like a disturbed beehive of bees, Kaz tried to catch at least one of them, but he was never successful. It was as if his whole being was divided in two. There was a part drowning in fear and growing panic at how close you were, and there was the other part screaming in a desire to go on and explore your body further, to find each of your sensitive spots and make you feel good. Kaz wanted to be able to overcome his past and his traumas, to learn how to give you the pleasure you deserved.

He didn't know much about sex, despite literally growing up on the streets of the Barrel, where carnal pleasure was a cheap currency. On any given night it was easy to spot couples in love lurking in dark corners and empty alleys. There was a brothel on every street that employed girls and guys of all tastes. Kaz used to think he was above it all and, therefore, better than everyone else. He didn't care about physical pleasure, he was so badly traumatized that the thought of even his own hands touching his body was frightening.

But meeting you changed his ideas and expectations about many things in a big way. Your careful healing touches became something almost sacred to Kaz, they were a real miracle that he was ready to worship, and that is why he always delayed to the last before accepting your help. Your presence was a gift at its best, and any physical contact between you was a real reward. At least for his patience and his efforts in how he tried to deal with his own demons.

If Nina found out that he still carried the title of virgin, she would never, ever let anyone forget it, but around you Kaz felt no embarrassment. You gave him valuable support and made him believe that he was needed and wanted for nothing. Kaz was used to everything in the Barrel being obtained through pain and blood, through money and power, and necessarily accompanied by the sale of his conscience, but you showed him another way.

You accepted him for who he was, and Kaz did his best not to disappoint you. And that's why, taking a deep breath, Kaz Brekker confirmed his longtime nickname, DirtyHands, and shifted his fingers unabashedly higher. He needed to see your reaction as much as he needed to see his own. The water remained somewhere outside his bedroom, and all he could feel with his fingertips was the warmth and softness of your skin.

You were alive, you stayed alive, and that gave him a little reassurance. He lifted his palm some more and gently cupped your breast, and his eyes were filled with such a mix of delight and apprehension and wonder that you were enveloped in a new wave of love for him. His concern for you was winning you over, and you knew that once you said a word, Kaz would instantly move away and never touch you again unless you wanted him to.

— You didn't do anything I didn't enjoy, sweetheart.

Your answer seemed vague, but the bunched sigh and hard nipples were a far better indication that you approved of what was happening. You still had trouble understanding the boundaries that existed in Kaz's mind. The relationship with him was like walking on a tightrope. Each step had to be thought through twice, and each one could be your last. Yesterday you could kiss his neck and he would be relaxed in your arms, but today you could meet him and he wouldn't even let you touch his palm briefly. Every day you had to start this journey all over again, not knowing if you would reach your intended destination.

But being on the sidelines was no longer possible. You wanted to be close and feel him with your skin. The glint of excitement in your eyes was becoming more and more obvious, so you took a risk and cautiously raised yourself up, leaning on your elbow to change your angle and look down at Kaz. Your gaze slid further along his body, and your eyebrows raised in interest for a moment when you noticed the familiar bump on Kaz's pants.

— Can I… ? — you asked cautiously, paying full attention to correctly recognizing Kaz's reaction. There was such a void in his head at the moment, he was focused solely on the feeling of your closeness, so he nodded mechanically, not even knowing what you meant.

But even that simple permission was enough for you. You moved swiftly closer and pressed your lips to his, squeezing his shoulder with your free hand. The kiss made Kaz shudder, but he quickly managed his anxiety, reassuring himself that it was you, and that he really trusted you. His body relaxed again, and then Kaz was able to seize the initiative, turning the soft kiss into a demanding and deep one, almost licking your mouth from the inside out.

He was constantly afraid that each time might be his last, that he would no longer be able to distract himself from the feel of water raising and the cold dead skin nest to his own, so Kaz showed all his fervor now, while he had the chance, while Jordy was pliantly hiding in the back of his mind and giving him valuable time with you in that dawn hour.

You didn't know which one of you made the leap, too engrossed in how well Kaz's lips touched yours, but the next moment you were already pressed against the bed. Your fingers followed the familiar path and found themselves in Kaz's hair, pulling the dark strands back. Even if his bad leg was making him uncomfortable now, he didn't show it. Such little things didn't mean anything to Kaz when he got to your neck, sinking his teeth into the soft skin with pleasure.

If someone had warned you that bloody Kaz Brekker would turn out to be so possessive, it would hardly have made any difference. You arched toward him and moaned briefly, knowing already that you'd spend a few minutes later staring at the fresh crimson marks on your neck in the mirror. Your hips clenched tighter around Kaz's legs and you thrust them toward him with obvious purpose. You needed to create a nice friction along his groin, though you still left it to him to pull away and not cross that line.

— I want more. I think.. Y/n, I think I can do this now. I can't bear the thought that I won't have a chance to be with you for real, and that you'll end up meeting someone else. I want to see you, — Kaz's trembling voice was so excited, so begging, that it shrunk something in your chest. It was incredible how hard he was trying for you.

— Just to see, hmm? We're not in a museum, Brekker, nobody's going to punish you for touching. More like the opposite. I could praise you, would you want that? I could tell that you're the best, the most diligent boy in the world? — you provoked him with a wide grin, pulling his hair back harder so that you could tilt his head back and let your tongue run wide along his neck. Exactly where his pulse was beating so often.

You didn't need to hear the answer. It was enough to see the dark flame of excitement in Kaz's eyes and his brief nod. You nudged him gently on the shoulder, and Kaz pulled back on the bed, giving you more space. He was barely breathing while he was greedily watching you take off your clothes. Healers were taught to get rid of embarrassment around their patients in the first months of training. You had seen exposed parts of other people's bodies many times, but no one had taught you how to hold yourself when you let someone see your own body.

— If I could paint, I would make your portraits every day. If I could play, I'd compose the best songs praising you, — Kaz said slowly, forcing himself to remember how to form words into sentences, completely stunned. — But I only know how to steal and cheat, so I'd steal you from everyone else. From Anderson, from Jesper and Nina, who you spend all weekend with. I'd like to be the only one who can see you like this. Being absolutely gorgeous.

Kaz Brekker wasn't a romantic poet, but he certainly knew how to approach a girl. A blush flashed on your cheeks at such frank words, but you managed it and pulled Kaz back closer to you. He was still wearing his clothes, and it created just the right contrast. It gave the illusion that Brekker was still in charge, but you both knew that it was really up to you.

— You can stop everything anytime, do you remember? I trust you and your ability to listen to yourself, you don't have to do something just because you think you have to, — you pressed your palm lightly to his cheek to make Kaz meet your inquisitive gaze.

— If I really knew how to listen to myself, I would have fucked you right on the table in my office three months ago right after that first kiss. But now I'm sure about everything, really.

Kaz didn't give you a chance to add anything else when he pertly shut you up with a kiss. You learned to work as a team a long time ago, so you joined in and guided his palm to your thigh, giving him a chance to run his fingers over the hot skin to begin with. You stopped straining to think about every detail, and the anticipation took over you entirely. You knew when the moment was right, and with a hidden smile you continued your lingering kiss as his fingers sank into the slick wetness between your thighs.

He didn't have the needed experience, but he had a great curiosity and a desire to please you. This made up for everything, and you gently pulled away from his lips, knowing that he would want to see exactly how his fingers touched you in your most intimate place. The tip of his index finger circled near your clit, pressing lightly, and you leaned against his shoulder for a moment, biting your lips to stifle the moan that was bursting out. Kaz was quick to learn and was now acting without your help, so you lay back, studying his too vivid emotions through your half-closed eyes.

— Have you imagined this before? That one day the trust between us would be so great that I could do something like this?

— I wanted that before there was any trust between us, — you admitted frankly, and a teasing smile touched your lips before Kaz caressed your clit a little faster, making you moan. — You were too handsome at the club. You walked into the room like you owned the whole building. And I also fell for your cheekbones and awesome sense of humor, I admit. But yes, hell, of course I wanted you and imagined stuff.

Kaz nodded, struggling to grasp the true meaning of your words. Passion filled his entire mind and made him even more greedy. He carefully memorized every loud sigh you let out, every moan. He enjoyed watching the way you crumpled the sheet in your fingers and the beautiful mess of your hair on the pillow. But he was more interested in seeing how eagerly you moved your hips against his fingers. Kaz knew what else you could have gone on. He was ready to die to know what it would be like to push inside your hot body and plunge his hard shaft all the way in, to drown in your sticky wetness. But tonight his stamina wouldn't be strong enough for that.

— I was dreaming about it. Before I woke up here, I had a dream about you. We were in an old house, similar to where I'd lived with my parents as a child, and we were fooling around in the bedroom. I could touch you there just like that, without feeling dead hands pulling me into the cold water, — any regret quickly disappeared from Kaz as he smoothly dipped two fingers inside your body.

Your loud moan merged with his surprised sigh. Kaz didn't expect his fingers to pass so freely, but the internal sensation of incredible narrowness struck him even more. Never in his life had he experienced such rapture, and his love for you strengthened in his heart. He moved his fingers with confidence, getting you faster and faster to a vivid orgasm with each thrust. You grasped his hand with such force that you must have left marks, but your pleasure was so huge and overwhelming that it made you forget everything around you. You whimpered Kaz's name again and again until he leaned down to kiss you, and you guessed from the tart taste on his tongue that he had already had time to lick his fingers, tasting you that way.

— Maybe one day we'll have a house like your old one and you'll be free of your fears, but until then, I'll be there to support you every step of the way, Kaz, — you whispered gently with a slight blush on your cheeks, before you pulled him closer and hugged him tightly, hiding the tip of your nose in his hair.

#six of crows #kaz brekker #kaz brekker imagine #kaz brekker x fem!reader #kaz brekker x reader #shadow and bone

[spacecowboyhotch]

The Bee and the Bear, Chapter 3: Like a Bear to a Hive

summary: carmy cooks Bee dinner.

pairing: carmy berzatto x f!reader (Bee)

contents: 18+/NSFW/heavy content/eventual smut, mention of suicide/mental illness, grief, longing, pining, angst, friends to strangersish to lovers, food and alcohol mention

wc: 2.7k

an: god i love these two so badddddd. i love their tenderness despite the awkwardness…i love how palpable how much they mean to the other is. PS this isn’t beta’d so if you see something insanely fucked pls let me know! PSS totto’s market is real and located in chicago…highly recommend it!

series masterlist

< | chapter 2: Back in the Beef

You can’t figure out what to wear. You’ve been back and forth, digging through your suitcase like a madwoman and standing in front of the mirror in your childhood room. This crisis is silly, it shouldn’t even be a crisis. Carmy has seen you in more than 80% of your wardrobe. Sure, you’ve gotten clothing for work, some racier things from your bar crawl days in undergrad. You’d brought neither of those categories with you– jeans and sweaters, a polished suit suit for Mikey’s funeral.

But, how do you dress for hanging out with Carmen Berzatto for the first time since you were just a teenager?

The answer is a paradox because its unclearly clear. This isn’t a special occasion and it is decidedly not a date. You’re a faithful woman, one who’s trying so desperately to protect your heart while simultaneously letting yourself have this. It feels pathetic to think about how long you’ve been waiting for a moment like this.

There was a time where missing Carmy completely consumed you. This is your way of letting yourself heal, or maybe it’s just going to make that feeling resurface when you inevitably go back home and history repeats itself. Your thoughts start to grow, mind swirling with doubt when your phone begins to buzz where its sat on your bedside table.

A picture of you and Kyle pops up on the display, his contact name a simple blue heart.

You answer it quietly, “Hello?”

“Hi, honey.”

“Hey,” You breathe, falling back into bed, giving yourself a reprieve from staring at every piece of clothing you’d packed.

“You sound tense,” And while he’s bringing it up, there’s no true concern that you can detect in his voice.

“No, not tense at all, just—pretty tired.”

It isn’t a complete lie. Despite feeling wired and on edge about seeing Carmy, there’s a heaviness to your limbs– fatigue from the last few days.

“Oh, are you heading to bed soon?”

You take in a shaky breath. Outright lying to him isn’t an option, you’re a good partner— a faithful partner, so you’ll just be honest. You close your eyes, struggling to keep your voice nonchalant, “Actually I’m getting dinner– well Carmy’s making dinner.”

Silence stretches between the two of you and you open your mouth to say something, anything but Kyle beats you to it.

“First time you’re seeing him since you moved out here, yeah?” He asks quietly. There’s a stillness in his tone that sends a chill down your spine.

“Yeah, it’ll be good to catch up with him. See what’s changed since we were babies.”

“And you still trust him? I mean its been–”

“He’s one of my best friends, Kyle,” You say quickly, before he can voice any of his opinions on Carmy or any of your other friends from home.

He doesn’t understand your bond with Nat or Carmy or Richie— hardly understood why you felt so compelled to come home from Mikey’s funeral when you hadn’t seen him in years. Kyle has no friends from his childhood, it’s just him and the steady, sterile climb into corporate America, full of empty smiles and cold happy hours. He doesn’t understand the warmth that ties you all together no matter how far you go, like the roots of a tree.

“One of your best friends? That you haven’t seen since before you could order your own glass of bourbon?” He challenges, chuckling under his breath.

“He means a lot to me. You know that.”

“How could I forget.”

You sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose in frustration, “Please, Kyle, it's not like that. It's never been like that. We’re platonic. I know it's weird for you but just– it's nice. To have him back after all these years. After losing Mikey.”

“Alright, I’m sorry. I know how much that little group of friends means to you even if they all have a weird way of showing it.”

“Thanks. I’ll let you know when I make it home?”

“Okay. I love you.”

“Love you too.”

Your conversation with Kyle feels like a cold shower. You’d just lied to him and now you’re second guessing everything. Should you really be doing this? Would this just be torture? Is having him in this way worse than not having him at all? Things with Carmy had never been voluntarily platonic.

Your phone buzzes and you think that its a text from Kyle– an overprotective “be careful” or “are you sure?”. To your surprise, its Carmy. Was he canceling? Why did that make your heart ache when you were just rethinking this yourself.

Bear 🤎: Looking forward to tonight. 8 still ok?

You stare at the text for several seconds, unaware of the soft smile that spreads across your face. He still has a contact photo– the two of you together for the last time before going off sitting outside the Adler Planetarium listening to the lakeside waves. Sugar had taken the photo while Mikey and Richie shadow boxed in the parking lot like a couple idiots.

Another text rolls in, pulling you from that memory.

Bear 🤎: We could do it sooner if you get tired early.

You: 8’s good, I still have to get wine.

Bear: See you soon.

You: Soon.

For a moment, you wish that you and Carmy were having lunch– you could take a walk down the Chicago streets, the wind whipping at your cheeks and clearing your head. But it’s nearly 7 and that wouldn’t be the safest thing to do. Finally you dress, settling on jeans and a chunky knit sweater that’s your favorite color. You bid your parents goodbye, ignoring their strangely wide smiles at the mention of Carmy and head for their car. Your favorite little store, Totto’s Market is just around the corner and you park the car and pop inside, needing to get in and out since your forgoed paying the meter.

Wine is an easy pick, one of your favorite whites that’s on the sweeter side. Dessert proves to be a challenge— Totto’s always has an assortment of killer pastries, flavorful ice cream and unique delicacies. You decide to play it safe with something you know Carmy will love: a orange and pistachio scone. He appreciates the brightness of citrusy paired with the earthy, salty pistachio, not to mention the buttery, crumbly scone. You’re out in less than 10 minutes and head towards Carmy’s.

When you pull up to his apartment building you do pay the parking meter, the hopeful part of you paying for a few hours. It could be something quick, dinner could be done and plated, awkward and over in no time. But you hope that that spark is still there, that he’s missed you just as much as you missed him.

He appears at the door pulling you out of your thoughts. He’s in a white t-shirt as always, but this one looks pristine with no wrinkles and is tucked into a brown pair of dickies instead of his usual messy jeans. He smiles bright, his eyes crystal blue, “Hey, c’mon in.”

“Yeah, sure,” You say awkwardly, following him inside.

“Whatcha got here? Lemme see,” He says, taking the bag from you once the two of you make it into the kitchen– you hope he doesn’t notice how slick your hands are, how they stuck slightly to the handles of the paper bag.His grin widens as he pulls out the bottle of wine you got, eyes flickering up to meet yours. “This is perfect.”

“Yeah? You’re not just humoring me.”

“I’m not, it’s a great pair with dinner. Sit,” He points to one of the bar stools tucked under the counter and you do, hoisting yourself up.

“What’s this?” He holds up the pastry bag, before opening it and inhaling. “Whoa.”

“Orange and pistachio scones. I didn’t know what you were making so I thought I’d go light for dessert.”

He gives you a nod of approval and sets down the bag, bending down to get a pot from the lower cabinets.

“I get to watch, hmm?” You ask, surprised but excited.

You hadn’t anticipated that he’d start cooking after you got there. Sure, he’d asked you to hang out but since then you’ve been wondering— is he doing this out of guilt? Out of pity? It had you thinking that he’d want to spend a limited amount of time with you, even with his enthusiasm. Your brain cycles through that back and forth, basking in his eagerness and questioning it many times in the span of minutes. But now you’re here. Now he’s cooking for you and those voices are a little softer in your head, overwhelmed by Carmy.

He shrugs, shifting awkwardly, “Thought I’d do it this way, for old time sake.”

“For old time sake,” You repeat quietly, watching as he starts to putter around the kitchen.

He heads for the fridge first, grabbing a couple wine glasses out of his freezer and pouring you both a glass before he gets started on prep. There’s soft music playing that you finally notice as you settle in, the gentle picking of guitar, accompanied by a piano melody.

“Actually…you still remember how to dice?” He teases, glancing over his shoulder at you, as he opens a container of eggs.

“Taught by the best,” You hop up, bringing your glass of wine with you as you join him at the prep station.

He looks smug for a moment before his brows knit together, “Wait— didn’t Mikey teach you how to dice?”

“I did say the best.”

He tries to look put out with you but the edges of his mouth twitch begging to smile. He nudges your shoulder, “Bull.”

“I think Mikey would disagree.”

“‘Course he would.” He’s quiet for a moment, squinting over at you, formulating his next words, “Where were you— when you?”

You take in a deep breath, shoulders dropping lower than before upon your exhale, “Uh, at work actually. Showing a new client around the gallery.”

“Sugar?”

“Richie. Sugar was…well she was telling you I’d imagining. Or falling apart. Both probably.”

“Yeah.”

The two of you slip into a comfortable silence, working at your respective stations. You glance over at him a few times, wondering if you should say what’s on your mind or leave it be.

“Say it.”

“Huh?” You finish chopping, looking up from the cutting board.”

“Whatever’s on your mind. You can say it.”

Incredible how after all this time apart, he can still read you like an open book. You shouldn’t be surprised since you can do the same to him…but what you’ve felt for him has always been different than what he felt for you. Right?

You sigh, shrugging a bit as you gather the onions you’ve successfully diced up in a pile, “Oh, uh, I was just…I realized I hadn’t said I’m sorry. About Mikey, I mean.”

He’s quiet for a moment, though his hands don’t stop working until he looks over at you, “Me too. For you. For all of us.”

“He’s your brother, Carm, you don’t have to extend me sympathy.”

“He meant a lot to you, too.”

You nod, staying quiet; there’s no use in arguing with that logic. He thanks you for dicing and tells you to go get comfortable on the couch while he finishes the rest. You protest insisting there's more you can do to help, but he gives you a no nonsense look pointing to the couch. You hold up your hands in surrender, grabbing your wine glass before taking a seat. From here you can still see him from the waist up and you watch him move around the kitchen. His quick, graceful way makes you realize that you would have just been in his way, slowing him down. As time passes his apartment fills with the scent of herbs, spicy chilis, aromatic tomatoes, and toasty bread.

Dinner is ready in no time at all– he isn’t an award winning chef for nothing– and you return to the counter when he plates the food at the bar. The two of you take turns talking, him first about the special changes he’s made to Mikey’s family spaghetti recipe, you about how well the gallery is flourishing, how its taking up too much of your time and that you haven’t gotten to create as much as you wanted in the coming months.

Your stomach is overtly full by the time you take the last bite, and you wipe the corner of your mouth with a napkin as you say, “I owe you for this, this was incredible.”

Carmy shrugs it off, “You’ve had this a million times.”

“Not from your hands. Not like this, all those tweaks you made shine through.”

It’s impossible to deny the flush that stains his cheeks but you do anyway, sparing your heart. “My hands aren’t special.”

You knock his shoulder with your own, tone teasing as you say, “Sure they are, they’re attached to you aren’t they?”

Carmy finds himself speechless, unable to do anything but stare at you in a mixture of shock and bashfulness. That soft pink blush deepens, and the plain evidence of your effect on him has your heart skipping.

You clear your throat, looking away from his gaze to fiddle with your fork, “I actually have something for you, give you an excuse to see me one more time.”

“I don’t need an excuse to see you.”

“Carmy,” You say knowingly and he dips his head a little in defeat.

“That’s the past. It shouldn’t have happened and– I’m sorry. Y’know, I’m sorry.”

Your gaze softens, and you reach out to squeeze his shoulder soothingly for a moment, “Don’t—like you said it's the past. I need to call in a favor so give me two days? Friday night?”

He melts under your touch, looking over at you with a soft smile, “Friday night.

“I’ll pick you up,” You offer.

“That much of a surprise, huh?”

“We can’t all cook the surprise, sometimes location is all a girl can have.”

“You’ve got more than that. Way more than that.”

“Oh really?” You roll your eyes playfully before meeting his gaze— its heart stopping. Sobering.

His eyes pierce into you, down to the softest part of your heart, the part only ever reserved for him. “Yeah,” He breathes roughly.

When had you gotten so close to him? You can smell his scent, worn leather and cigarettes, a hint of some citrusy cologne that he dabs behind his ears and the slope of his neck. His eyes are impossible to escape, a deep clear blue full intricacies you can’t look away from. Carmy’s just as entranced as you, drawn to you like a bear is to sweet honey. His thumb brushes your own, and you shiver, a soft jagged breath leaving you at his warm touch.

The spell is broken by the shrill of your phone, a telltale ringtone that has guilt blooming in your chest immediately. It’s Kyle.

Both of you lean away from each other quickly and you reach for your bag on the counter, fishing out your phone. “Sorry, it’s Kyle,” You glance at Carmy nervously, holding up your phone awkwardly before you answer.

He sees the heart by Kyle’s name and his own sinks into his stomach, “No, no, you’re good. All good.”

Carmy’s head feels as if it's about to burst, swirling a million miles a minute though he looks no different on the outside. Kyle? Who the fuck was Kyle? He was this out of the loop, had put so much space between the two of you that he doesn’t even know that you’re seeing someone? How long have you been together? Did you live with him? Did you…love him? Want to spend your life with him? Why would Sugar set him up like this— set you up like this, if you had someone?

He listens to you talk, the light that has been shining in his eyes from the moment you stepped into his apartment dimming with each word he hears you speak.

“Hey, honey. No, no, I’m just about to leave. Well, he didn’t start until I got here. Yes, I’ll call you when I’m home. I will. Love you too. Ok, bye.”

“Everything okay?”

“Yeah, sorry, he just gets worried about me.”

“I’d worry about you too.” After a beat he murmurs, “I do.”

“I worry about you too,” You whisper shyly.

“Nothing to worry about here, Bee,” He struggles to keep his tone nonchalant.

The strain in his voice has you looking up at him. His eyes are cloudy, sad. He’s trying to keep it together as always and the sight has your will crumbling. You lean closer again, raising your hand to cup his cheek so that he has to meet your eye.

“You don’t have to pretend, Carmen. You know that, right?”

He swallows loudly, unable to hold your eye contact for more than a few seconds at a time. Nodding he places his hand over yours, rubbing it gently, “I know. But it’s easier that way. For all of us.”

Before you can formulate response he gives your hand one last squeeze and rises to his feet. “I’ll pack up some leftovers for you.”

And just like that, the moment is gone. That little glimpse of your Carmy is overshadowed by the one he’s become.

| > chapter 4: Like a Bee to Nectar

18+ carmy taglist: @treefingers , @mrsdominickstark, @princess-of-fanfics, @whore-for-murdock, @xxxstormyninixxx, @dreamingwithlens, @thecraziestcrayon, @jam1esl0v4, @lilylovelyxo, @jadeittic, @jotarokuj0, @bunnysthngs, @gcidrvsh, @mistalli, @luvr-bunnyy, @s3xymoonman, @cosmicspacewitch, @khena, @r0s3mm, @recklessgiraffelife, @i-am-typing, @salinaiacono6

If you ask to be added to the taglist but didn’t verify you’re 18+ you will not be added!

#carmy berzatto x fem!reader #carmy berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto x you #carmy x you #carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto x fem!reader #carmen berzatto x you #carmy berzatto #carmy berzatto fanfiction #carmy berzatto fic #carmy berzatto angst #carmy berzatto fluff #the bear fanfiction #the bee and the bear #arson writes the bear #not sfw

[jishyucks]

B. Material ‣ cbg

‣ pairing: best friend!Beomgyu x female!reader

‣ genre: f2l, fluff

‣ wc: 1.7k

‣ summary: In which the B in 'boyfriend material' stands for Beomgyu; alternatively, where you've fallen for Beomgyu's weird love language and you need to make that clear to him before he thinks otherwise

‣ warnings?: nothing really bad, misunderstanding and accidental eavesdropping, beomgyu being weird, slightly cheesy lmaooo

‣ an: this was just a random draft in my docs and I just wanted to post something real quick so quality might not be there, actually cute imo, the ending is very low-key rushed but it wasn't meant to be longer than 1k lmaooo

“My lady~” 

You look at Beomgyu as if he was crazy, “What the fuck?” Your best friend gestures for you to step out of the car, holding the door open wide enough for you to exit but just enough so it wouldn’t hit the neighbouring vehicle. You can’t tell if he was joking or not. 

“My lady~” Beomgyu repeats. Then he leans forward and whispers, “This is when you get out of the car.” Oh, he was being serious.

Sliding out of your seat, you do just as he suggested, still giving him a puzzled look. What is he on?

Obviously, it isn’t the first time you’ve witnessed Beomgyu act off. It was different this time because he was acting his normal, goofy self before you arrived at your destination. 

Shutting the door, Beomgyu sprints to the front door of the building, opening it before using the same gesture as earlier, “My lady~”

Although your heart should be going crazy at the fact that Beomgyu’s basically calling you his, there was not one inch of you that could take him seriously right now. Not when he looked adorably stupid, “Gyu, we’re at McDonald’s.”

He chooses not to reply, holding the door open as he waits for you to go through. There are people entering and exiting the restaurant, but he doesn’t shift his gaze away from you. He’s waiting patiently, posing as if he were in some kind of ad. 

You sighed and walked through the open door, letting yourself in through the second set. Beomgyu hurriedly follows, sticking to your side and linking your arms. You cock a brow. Skinship between the two of you was certainly not out of the ordinary. Beomgyu has just never linked arms with you before. 

“What do you want to order?” He questions, eyeing the menu, “The same as always?” 

“Yeah, I’m not in the mood for trying anything new right now,” you reply, nodding. 

Beomgyu grins. “Okay, I’ll order for you.” 

Stepping up to the cashier, he almost drags you with him, forgetting that his arms are linked with yours. He chooses to ignore this, ordering for the both of you before bringing his card to the reader to pay. At that, he drags you to pick up counter, joining a few others who were waiting.

“Remind me to pay you back later,” you say quietly. A number is called out, prompting one of the other customers to pick up their food. 

Beomgyu gasps, bringing a hand up to his chest as if you just said something outwardly offensive. You want to laugh but you would be lying if you said you weren’t slightly worried about the boy. 

“What do you mean—” And you imitate Beomgyu’s gasp while giving him a puzzled look. 

Another number is called, leaving you, Beomgyu, and one last customer at the counter. Beomgyu replies, “I’m a gentleman, and a gentleman never lets his lady pay for her meal.” He closes his eyes and smiles proudly and at this point, you’re real close to smacking him on the side of the head to knock out whatever has possessed him. 

You give him a look, holding it in hopes to reel out the reason why he was acting like this. And although you’re burning holes through the side of his face, Beomgyu acts as if nothing’s up, watching the employee gather all of your guys’ food onto a tray. 

Recalling recent events, you try to narrow down why the hell Beomgyu was acting like those dudes in old movies. You don’t put the effort into coming up with a reason this could be happening, but the only possible cause of his behaviour could be that he joined the school’s drama production without your knowledge and he’s doing some sort of method acting. 

Your order’s number is finally called out by the girl at the counter. She pushes the tray towards the both of you before turning back to the kitchen to collect the next order. 

“I got it.” Beomgyu unlinks your arms and picks the tray up. You both decide to sit near the back of the restaurant, next to some windows. 

Just as you’re about to grab your food, Beomgyu takes your food into his hands and places it in front of you himself. Then, he grabs one of the straws, taps it against the table to poke it out of the wrapper, before sticking it into your drink’s cap. He places this in front of you too. 

You look at him, raising a brow, “You know… I could’ve done all of that myself, right?” 

Beomgyu looks completely clueless as he sets his own food, “Yes. But a gentleman always helps his lady out.” 

“Beomgyu…” At this point, it’s getting ridiculous. Method acting or not, you want an explanation from Beomgyu. He’s chewing on his food, eyes set at the centre of the table, obviously trying to avoid any sort of eye contact. 

“Choi Beomgyu,” you repeat. This time you lean down towards the table and try to catch his gaze. Granted that Beomgyu’s attention span was shorter than the average adult, his eyes flicker up to you. 

“Y-yes, my lady?” He lets out a nervous chuckle, grabbing his drink. 

You sit up straight, “Why are you being weird?” You’re straight to the point, but only because you’ve endured this long enough (because 10 minutes is long enough). 

“I’m not being weird,” Beomgyu sips on his drink, putting it back down before moving back to his fries, “This is how I am.” One corner of his mouth quirks.

You quote him, “‘My lady’? ‘Gentleman’? Gyu, I swear in all the years I’ve known you, you’ve never said those words once.” Then you add, “You opened the car door for me, you opened the front door for me… not to mention what you did just now…”

Beomgyu laughs, trying to play it off, “Can’t I just be the nice friend that I am?”

“You know I won’t judge you if you tell me the truth, right?” you say a bit calmer. It’s your turn to take a sip out of your drink.

Beomgyu hesitates to speak, eyes turned down at the table. He wonders if it would be odd to tell you the reason. It did involve him eavesdropping (though he claims it was more of a moment of overhearing). The root of his behaviour wasn’t his business in the first place. What if you got mad at him because of it?

“Do you swear that you won’t judge me?” Beomgyu’s voice is so quiet that you have to lean forward in your seat to hear him clearly, “Do you swear that you won’t get mad at me?”

Now he’s scaring you. But you nod anyway, “I swear.”

Beomgyu takes this as his cue to explain himself. Mentally, he could piece it all together easily. But trying to find the words to explain everything was something else. It all made sense to him personally, but he knew that once he begins speaking, you would be understandably lost. 

“The other day… when I came over without you knowing,” he begins, “I was making my way to your room and you were on a call with your friends.” 

You know exactly where this is going. You only know because Beomgyu was the topic of the night that night. 

“I swear I didn’t want to eavesdrop on purpose but hearing my name, it made me curious.” Beomgyu pauses and crosses his hands, bringing them to his lap out of nervousness. He’s swinging his feet but you don’t notice, “So I listened. And I heard you say that… that you couldn’t see me doing things a boyfriend would do. So, I did all of this to show you that I’m…” He thinks of the perfect way to put it, but unsure with his words, he lowers his volume, “Boyfriend material?”

You take in what Beomgyu just said, not knowing whether you should laugh or reassure him that his problems weren’t as serious as he thought they were because they weren’t. Beomgyu’s assumptions were entirely untrue, being that he did miss a huge chunk of your conversation. He simply misheard and misunderstood what you were going on about that night. 

“Why do you want to prove that you’re boyfriend material that bad?” 

Beomgyu avoids eye contact, shaking his head, “It’s nothing… just… it just hurt my ego a bit.” But you know damn well that Beomgyu’s lying. All the signs were there, but you didn’t want to fish out what he was truly feeling yourself. You wanted him to tell you himself. 

“We were talking about stereotypical boyfriend things,” you start, “Like what you just did. Holding the door open, ordering for me, just the things you’d typically see in movies or shows… but I said that I couldn’t see you doing those things because they weren’t you.

“In movies, the guy would lend his sweater, but you, you push for me to share the sweater with you because body warmth is ‘one-hundred-percent better’ than the warmth of the sweater itself. Other boyfriends, they’d agree to watch whatever his girlfriend wants to please her, but you, you choose to go for something I’ve never watched, and that led me to discover new shows that are actually really good.”

Beomgyu’s starting to feel more confident, eyes flickering between his food and you. 

“You spam me with tiktoks, take the nastiest photos of me without my knowledge, and eat my food without asking me—which some of those things, a typical, picture-perfect boyfriend would never do,” you go on, “You don’t care if you beat me in video games, you untie my shoes when I’m not looking, and you tease me until your heart’s content, but you know what? All those things, to me, are what makes you more boyfriend material than what people usually perceive as boyfriend material.”

“What are you saying?” Beomgyu’s riding a rollercoaster of emotions. He’s unsure whether all of this is a good or bad thing. He needs a direct explanation. 

“I’m saying that you’re boyfriend material in a different way, Gyu. There’s no need for you to do all those things because I’ve fallen for you and the way you show affection.” You feel laughter erupting in your stomach, not believing what you just indirectly confessed. 

Beomgyu’s still in a state of shock from what you just said, jaw nearly dropping onto his lap, “You’ve fallen… for me?” He doesn’t know how to react. He didn’t plan any of this. He simply wanted to show you how he can be boyfriend material. 

You nod sheepishly. 

“Good,” he replies quietly, “Because I’ve fallen for you too.”

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