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#like hmm. where did that come from. anyways.
morgana-larkin · 2 days
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HMM,,, if i dare request an either chessy or melissa fic.. with... like them having a breast/lactation kink and when doing the deed- like praising reader and making them suck her tits ETC do whatever u feel is necessary with this if u even want to write it.... :) /// also inexperienced reader and/ or mommy kink....
Dare accepted! I also did a little surprise and did both of them! I don’t see Chessy as having a mommy kink though so I didn’t do that for her. So it’s quite long since I wrote about both and tried to make it as cute as possible. So good luck! Not edited in the slightest and I hope you like it!
On another note: you might have noticed that I added 2 other characters to my masterlist, adult Misty from yellowjackets and Moiraine Sedai from wheel of time. Send prompts for any character on my masterlist! I do it all, angst (with reluctance), fluff, smut, age gap.
Her Good Girl
Warnings: ok there’s a small list. Breast kink, mommy kink, praise kink, so much fluff, semi public smut, smut
Words: 6.9k (I have no regrets)
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Melissa
“When are you gonna ask her out?” Barb says to Melissa one morning.
“Ask who out?” Melissa says, even though she knows exactly who Barb is talking about.
“She means y/n.” Janine pipes up and Melissa and Barb turn to the trio.
“Ya, I mean you guys are so flirty I’m surprised you aren’t already together.” Jacob says.
“It’s really obvious.” Gregory adds and Melissa turns back around and face Barb.
“What they said.” Barb says.
“I just, I’m not ready.” Melissa says. “Where is she anyway? She’s usually here by now.” Melissa adds as she sees the time.
20 minutes later they all get up to go greet their students and Melissa sees you’re still not here. They walk to their classrooms and then Melissa sees you coming in the front door in a hurry and your hair is wet.
“If you’re not gonna ask her out then at least put the heart eyes away.” Barb teases her as Melissa looks at you longingly and with soft eyes.
You end up catching up to them as you all make your way to your classrooms. “Hey you two.” You tell them.
“Hey hun.” Melissa says right away.
“Morning sweetheart.” Barb says after looking at Melissa with a smile and shake of her head.
“Running late this morning?” Melissa asks you.
“Ya, I forgot to set my alarm clock and woke up 40 minutes ago. Took the world’s fastest shower and didn’t have time to blow dry it.” You tell her. You then both say bye to Barb as you reach her class then you both continue on to yours.
“Well I think you still look good, wet hair or dry.” She tells you with a smile.
“Thanks.” You tell her. Unknown to you is where Melissa's mind is wandering right now seeing your hair wet. Things the two of you could do in the shower. Then Melissa takes a deep breath and tries to think of other things to calm herself as she feels herself getting wet between the legs and it’s not even 8am yet.
“Did you have a coffee?” She asks you and you shake your head.
“I’m gonna get a headache from the caffeine withdrawal until lunch.” You say with a pout.
“Well here, I still have half left. Take the rest of mine.” She tells you and hands you her mug.
“Oh no, that’s your coffee, you should have it. I’ll just power through until lunch.”
“Hun, I’m offering it to you. Just take it, I had enough for the morning.” She tells you.
“Are you sure?” You ask and she nods with a smile. “Alright, if you insist.” You say and you take her mug and take a sip. You hum at the taste of the caffeine and you smile.
“Do you want to go out with me?” She asks as you reach your classroom. You choke on the coffee and begin coughing. She pats and rubs your back until you stop.
“What?” You ask her, you didn’t know if you heard her right.
“Do you want to go on a date with me?” She repeats and you smile at her.
“Yes, I’d love to.” You tell her and she beams.
“How does this Saturday sound?” She asks you.
“Sounds perfect.” You tell her and kiss her cheek, she blushes and touches the spot where you kissed her cheek and smiles.
*7 weeks later*
It’s Saturday night and you’re both cuddling on her couch, finishing the movie. The credits roll and you reluctantly pull away from her and stretch and yawn.
“I should probably get going.” You say and stand up.
“Alright hun. Will I see you tomorrow?” She asks you and you nod. She gets off the couch and goes to where you’re gathering your things near the door. You stand back up and you look at her. You lean in and give her a quick peck, then you give another and another. Then you keep your lips on hers and end up making out with her. At some point you end up moaning and she pulls away. “As much as I would love to keep kissing you, your moaning is gonna make me want more.” She tells you.
You told her you were a virgin 3 weeks ago when she asked you if you wanted to have sex and she told you to let her know when you were ready. You felt so lucky to have her, she was so patient and understanding with you. You leaned in and kissed her again and she pulled back after 2 seconds before it could continue. “I’ll see you tomorrow hun.” She tells you. You were about to put your shoes on when you looked at her again, her smiling at you and you realised, you’re ready now.
“Actually, I think I’d like to stay.” You tell her and she quirks an eyebrow at you. “I’d like to stay and keep kissing you.” You tell her and walk towards her and put your hands on her stomach gently. She flinches and looks shocked and then you start moving them up, towards her chest. She stops your hands by grabbing your wrists and looks at you, still holding your wrists.
“Hun, what are you doing?” She asks you and you smile at her.
“I’m ready, and I want you right now.” You tell her and she still looks at you.
“Are you certain? Like 100% certain?” She tells you.
“Yes, I want you to be the one that takes my virginity Mel.” You tell her and she smiles.
“Then come to my bedroom.” She tells you and makes you go first. You walk upstairs and as soon as you make it to the top. She spins you around and kisses you, and then picks you up and places your legs around her waist. She carries you the rest of the way to her bedroom and she gently places you on the bed. She goes to close the door and then makes her way back to you.
You scoot up a little further on the bed and Melissa crawls on top of you and kisses your lips. She grabs the hem of your shirt and then pulls back to look at you and you nod. She takes your shirt off and she looks at you. “God you’re so beautiful.” She tells you and you bring her back to kissing you. She trails down to your neck and kisses your neck then begins sucking on it and you gasp and arch your back. Melissa sneaks her hand under you and unclips your bra. She takes it off with your help and she throws it somewhere on the ground. She switches to the other side of your neck and she cups both of your breasts in her hands and squeezes them. You moan at that and she smirks before trailing down again to your chest and places kisses all over your chest before placing her mouth around a nipple. You grab her hair when she places her mouth on a nipple as the feeling is heavenly.
“Omg Mel. That feels so good!” You tell her and she smirks, you don’t see it but you feel it. After a minute, she switches to the other nipple and you buck your hips. After another minute of her swirling her tongue around on your nipple and sucking it, she pulls away and moves down. She takes your pants off with little effort and she places her fingers on your underwear then looks at you for confirmation again. You nod your head and she slides your underwear off slowly, just enjoying seeing your whole body without anything on it, and she’s the only privileged one to ever see it, and that makes her happy. She rubs her hands up and down your legs and thighs, just feeling your entire body. She lies down to place her mouth on your clit when you speak up. “Wait.” You say and she stops immediately and looks at you. “I want to see you too. I’m completely bare here and you still have all your clothes on.” You tell her and she grins.
“I know, that’s how I like it. But don’t worry, you’ll see my body as well. After I pleasure you first.” She says with a wink and you blush. “Are you ready?” She asks you and you nod. She wastes no more time after that, she dives down to your clit and starts swirling her tongue on it and you moan out at the feeling and you grab her hair again. She then goes lower to your entrance and you gasp. “Oh Amore, you taste so good.” She tells you then sticks her tongue in your entrance and you gasp loudly. She takes her tongue out then immediately sticks it back in again and repeats for a couple minutes. She pulls back and you whine, “have you touched yourself before?” She asks you and you look at her.
“Only with a vibrator.” You tell her and her eyes shine at that.
“So you’ve never fingered yourself?” She asks and you shake your head. “Oh Amore, I feel so privileged.” She tells you and you blush. “I’m going to stick my finger in but if you want me to stop then let me know ok?” She asks and you nod. “It might hurt a bit at first but that’s because you’re not used to it.” She says and you nod again. She starts playing with your clit and you buck your hips and she lined her middle finger up with your entrance and she slowly inserts it. You gasp out when she’s entering and then when it’s in all the way, you moan. It does hurt a bit but she stays there until you nod at her to tell her the pain stopped. She slowly slides it back out then slides it right back in again and you begin to moan again.
“Can you go faster?” You tell her and she smiles and speeds up. You gasp and grab her hair. While she’s still fingering you, she leans down to you and kisses your lips. Her thumb goes to your clit and you gasp in her mouth and she slides her tongue in and you moan. She slows down and slides a second finger in and you arch your back and gasp in the kiss again. You feel you're close to coming and your legs start to shake and Melissa notices.
“Oh baby, are you close?” She asks you and you nod. “Do you want to cum for mommy?” She asks and you don’t even flinch at the nickname she gives herself, in fact it turns you on even more.
“Yes I want to cum for you mommy.” You say and she grins.
“Then cum for me baby.” She tells you and you come immediately. Melissa slows her fingers down and gently pulls them out. You take a minute to catch your breath and Melissa comes back in with a cloth. When did she leave? She gently wipes your centre then looks at you with a smile. “How was that?” She asks you.
“Fucking incredible!” You tell her and she beams. She comes up to you and cuddles you. After about 10 seconds you go and straddle her lap.
“Something you want Amore?” She tells you with a quirked eyebrow.
“I want you.” You tell her.
“You just had me.” She teases you.
“I want to see your body and touch it and make you feel good too.” You tell her.
“Are you sure? You don’t have to, the first time might be a bit overwhelming.” She tells you and strokes your cheek with the same hand she used to finger you. You grab her hand and stick the 2 fingers she used in your mouth and lick them. She looks at you with so much lust in that moment, you think she might fuck you again. You moan around her fingers and she rubs her legs together. You remove her fingers from your mouth and you reach for her shirt and she nods before you take it off. You look at her stomach and chest and you have to wipe some drool off that slipped out and she giggles. You reach in the back and unclip her bra and you practically ripped it off. Once it’s off, you freeze and stare at her breasts. They’re so big and so soft looking, they’re irresistible, they’re perfect. “Go on and touch them if you want. I like it when people touch them and suck on them. It’s a kink of mine.” She tells you and you immediately cup both of them and then attach your mouth around a nipple and she moans. “Yes baby, just like that.” She tells you and you begin sucking on it and she grabs your hair. “Yes that’s it, suck mommy’s tit.” She says and you moan which makes her buck her hips due to the vibration on her nipple.
She practically traps your head there since she’s holding your hair but you don’t care, you feel like you can spend all day just licking and sucking her nipples.
“Baby, can you be a good girl and suck mommy’s other tit?” She asks you and you immediately pull back and attach your mouth on the other one and start sucking. “Good girl.” She says and you moan. She sees that you like getting praised, she thinks you might have a praise kink. You take her pants and underwear off after you pull back and you look at her completely naked and you blush. “Does my baby like what she sees? Do you like mommy’s body?” She asks as she strokes your cheek.
“Yes mommy, I love your body.” You tell her and she smiles.
“How about you stick your cute little fingers in me and put that amazing mouth of yours back on my nipples? How does that sound?” She asks you.
“I like it.” You tell her and you go to stick your fingers in and realise you have no idea where to put them. Melissa notices this and she guides your fingers to her entrance and you stick a finger in and she moans.
“That’s it baby, put another one in, don’t be shy.” She tells you and you stick another one in and you start sliding in and out of her. You think that she feels amazing around your fingers and you don’t want to ever pull out. She then leans down so her boobs are in mouths reach and you wrap your mouth around a nipple and you start sucking. Melissa starts moaning like crazy and it turns you on and you rub your thighs together. Melissa notices the action and looks at you with a smirk. “Oh, does my baby like the noises that mommy makes for her?” She asks you and you nod. “If you like I can fuck you with a strap after.” She tells you and you nod.
You go and suck on the other nipple and Melissa continues moaning and she is now riding your fingers while you continue to slide in and out of her, matching her rhythm. She grabs your hair and she starts shaking and you look up at her face while still sucking on her nipple.
“That’s it baby, I’m so close, rub my clit.” She commands and you obey. You bring your other hand in between her legs and you find her clit and start rubbing it. Seconds after she comes with a high pitched gasp. She takes your fingers out of her and puts them in her mouth and licks them clean. She moans when she’s licking the taste of herself off your fingers while looking at you. She smirks then gets off the bed and heads to her closet.
“Wait! Where are you going?” You ask her and she turns around.
“Don’t worry, just to my closet. I made you a promise didn’t I?” She says and you look confused. Did she? You can’t remember. She then pulls out a strap and puts it on and that’s when you remember. She walks towards you with it on and you wonder how she can look breathtaking no matter what. She climbs on top of you and puts her hands all over your stomach and chest. “So beautiful, and all mine.” She says softly and you moan. “Do you like being mine baby?” She asks you and you’re back to only being able to nod as you can’t find your voice. She wants to get you more wet to not hurt you as you only ever had a finger in you before and that was 10 minutes ago. She grabbed her smallest dildo but she wants to be cautious. She then remembers that you might have a praise kink, so she experiments with that. “Well, you don’t have to worry baby, you are mine, you’re my good girl.” She tells you and you feel all the wetness from your mouth shoot to your core at her praises. She checks your entrance and sure enough, you’re wet enough now. She lines the strap up and looks at you. “This might hurt a bit baby, but if it hurts too much then tell me straight away ok?” She says and you nod.
She then starts to slide in the tip and you feel it start to fill you. She slides more in and you feel yourself stretch to accommodate it. It does start to hurt a bit but not to the point of being painful, especially if it’s also mixed with pleasure. She slides in fully and you gasp.
“You ok baby?” She asks you, voice full of concern. It takes you a few seconds but then you look at her and nod. “Do you still feel a bit of pain?” You nod at that and she stays still, she does move a bit but only to kiss you. You start to relax and then you notice the pain disappeared and only pleasure remains and you start to squirm. Melissa feels you squirm and looks at you. “Am I correct to assume you want me to start moving?” She says and you nod. She smiles at you then starts sliding in and out of you.
You start gasping and moaning as you feel it slide out then immediately fill you back up. You look at her and of course it’s a goddess that’s making you feel this and you pull her head down and kiss her. Melissa is taken by surprise by it but isn’t complaining, she likes that you get a sudden urges to kiss her, it makes her feel wanted. She smiles into the kiss while she’s sliding in and out of you, then moves a hand down to rub your clit. You gasp into the kiss at the intense pleasure you’re feeling. With her lips kissing yours, her boobs squashed on your body, her finger rubbing your clit and the dildo sliding in and out of you at a fast pace. All that together makes you come fast and strong.
She slides out of you and removes the strap. She goes to get a cloth and cleans you up. You yelp at first due to sensitivity but she makes sure to be as careful as possible and then cleans herself up. She lays down next to you and you immediately seek her body out for comfort and she doesn’t hesitate to hold her arms out and bring you close to her, with your head on her chest.
“Do you like that hon?” She asks you once your body has stopped shaking.
“Ya I did.” You tell her with a huge smile. “Did you?”
“Ya, I loved it.” She says and you yawn. “Get some sleep, I’ll be here when you wake up.” She tells you.
“You promise?” You ask her.
“I promise.” She says and you get more comfortable and immediately fall asleep, Melissa stroking your head and finally feeling like she’s where she’s meant to be. She falls asleep with a smile on her face.
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Chessy
You catch Chessy's attention the first time you came over to the house. You knock on the door and Nick runs over to answer it. When you enter with him, Chessy is walking over to go get Hallie and Annie for lunch.
“Hey Chessy, I want you to meet my sister y/n.” He tells her and she gives him a look. She knew he had a younger sister but didn’t know there was such an age gap. You look to be 15 years younger.
“Hi nice to finally meet you.” She says and you look over at Nick then stick your hand out to shake hands with her.
“Hi, nice to meet you too. Nick has talked about all of you and wanted to finally meet his household.” You say. “Nick, I didn’t know you talked about me, I’m honoured.” You tell him and he chuckles.
“Forgive me for asking, but it seems like there’s a noticeable age gap between you too.” Chessy says and you both look at her and smile.
“Ya, 16 years, but we love each other regardless.” Nick says and puts a hand around your shoulders and you giggle.
“Wow, quite a difference. Anyway, lunch is ready, and Nick mentioned you’d be coming over so there’s enough for you to have some as well.” She says and you smile at her.
“Thank you so much!” You tell her and she blushes. She then scurries away quickly to go get the twins. Nick looked at the interaction with interest. He knows that Chessy is interested in both genders and he knows that you’re interested in women, a bit older women too. You mentioned your type to him before and now that he thinks about it, Chessy fits it perfectly. He decides not to say anything as he’s finally getting to reconnect with you in person again after not having seen you for a few years.
A month goes by and since you recently moved to California to get to know Nick’s family more, you lived in an apartment building about half an hour drive away. You mentioned it to Nick when he says you could drop by more instead of a few times a month. You told him that it’s a lot of gas and you got an apartment to pay for and not a great paying job. He then offered to let you move into the house, rent free and after a little insisting and Chessy telling you that it’s a great idea, you accept.
A couple months go by and you and Chessy spend a lot of time together. The twins notice it and also notices the looks you give each other and of course one of them brings it up and embarrasses both of you.
“Are you guys dating?” Hallie asks you both and Chessy’s cheeks turn red and you choke on your juice as you were taking a sip and start coughing. Chessy immediately goes and gives you a few pats and rubs your back to help with the coughs.
“Hal, why would you think we’re dating?” She asks her and the twins look at each other.
“You mean you’re not?” Annie asks and you and Chessy both shake your heads.
“But you spend a lot of time together, you keep giving each other looks that our parents give each other and you’re constantly being touchy.” Hallie explains and you both look at the twins then you look at each other.
“Ok get out of here you trouble makers.” Chessy says and shoos them away. She then turns back to you when they leave. “Hey I’m sorry abo-hm.” she starts but is cut off by your lips on hers.
And that was the start of many kisses and a relationship.
3 months pass and it’s the summertime and Chessy planned a date with you after Nick gave her time off for it, not knowing you and Chessy are dating.
Chessy brings you horseback riding, you take one horse though and she brings you a good distance away from the house. It’s about a 15-20 minute ride. She then gets off and helps you get down and then ties the horse to a tree then sets up a blanket on the ground.
“Did you take me on a picnic date?” You ask her and wrap your arms around her waist and kiss her shoulder blade.
“Ya, is that ok?” She asks, concerned you might not like it.
“Yes, I love it.” You tell her and she turns around in your arms. You both are the same height so she easily kisses your lips and wraps her arms around your neck.
“You know what I love?” She tells you and you look at her curious, you haven’t said the L word yet, but you know you both love each other.
“What?” You ask.
“You” she says and you smile.
“Well I love you too.” You tell her and she smiles and kisses you again.
You both have a great picnic date as she made both your favourite finger foods and you dive into great conversation.
At one point you feed her a piece of fruit and the juice runs down to your arm a bit and she goes and licks it up right away. You let out a small moan and you jump at her and crash your lips together.
“Woah.” Chessy says and it takes her by surprise, so while she still is able to put her hands on your hips, she still falls back on her back, with you on top of her.
When you pull back, you both stare at each other and Chessy smiles up at you. “Hi beautiful.” She tells you and you blush.
“Hi, sorry about that.” You say at bit embarrassed.
“Hey, don’t be sorry. I liked the surprise.” She tells you and moves some of your hair behind you that’s blocking your face. You look at her and you see the care she has for you and it overwhelms you and warms your heart. You knew she cares about you and you always blushed when she did things for you as you weren’t used to it from a partner.
Chessy knew your past relationships weren’t the best and didn’t last long as you told her about them. When you told her then she wanted to show you how a partner should treat you, with respect and love. She let you set the pace as she doesn’t want to push or pressure you, you told her that you came close to having sex once with a partner but then backed out as it didn’t feel right.
You kiss her again and neither of you pull back. Chessy knows she should pull back now as she’s getting turned on with your body on her like this and you’re making out with her. She doesn’t pull back and accidentally lets a moan slip out and her cheeks go red as you pull back.
“Do you want to have sex?” You ask her confused and Chessy is wondering how you don’t know how you effect her.
“Yes, I have for about 2 months.” She tells you. “But I’m letting you decide when you’re ready and I don’t want to pressure you.” She tells you honestly and you look at her with such love.
You cup her cheek and she leans into your touch. “How did I get so lucky with you?” You say and she hums.
“I feel like I’m the lucky one.” She says. You suddenly look around and you see there’s no one around and then you take your dress off. Chessy looks at you and cheeks go red as a tomato. “What are you doing?” She asks and you smile. You know she won’t do anything unless you tell her you’re ready but you decide to tease her first.
“What you don’t like what you see?” You ask her and you drop your smile, to play the act.
“What? Of course I do, but hon, I don’t think you realise the effect you have on me.” She says and she accidentally moves her hips a bit and rubs her thighs together.
“Well what if I told you I want you to touch me?” You tell her with a lower voice and lean down and scoot down a little bit and push her shirt up enough to see skin. You then lean down more and trail kisses up her stomach.
“Hon, I-”
“I want you to touch me, all. over.” You punctuate at the end and you slide your hands under her shirt and they land on her bra before she grabs your wrists and pulls them out of her shirt. You could tell she’s almost at a breaking point and you push a little further. You lean down and suck on her neck and she gasps. She lets go of your wrists and pulls your head back.
“Hon, please I-” she then freezes when you unclip your bra and take it off.
“Do you wanna touch them?” You ask her and she lets out a whine. “Go on then, I want you Chessy.” And at that she snaps. She flips you both over so she’s on top and she dives right to a nipple and starts sucking. You gasp and moan as she puts that experienced mouth on you and finds out quickly what you like. You take the blue sweater off of her and Chessy takes her top off quickly. She then goes to your neck and leaves hickeys all over your neck and chest. “You know my brother will find out as soon as we get back home” you tell her and she smirks.
“He’ll be happy to know you’re being taken cared of.” She says and rubs her hands up your body, starting at your hips. You grab her head and pull her down to kiss you and you unclip her bra and throw it somewhere. You then undo the button on her pants and pull them down. They don’t go far as you both refuse to break the kiss and you move your legs to try and pull them down. It was rather unsuccessful but it did give her a great opportunity since her legs are now right in between yours. She breaks away from the kiss with a laugh at your attempt and kicks them off. “I know you teased me to see how far you could go before I break and believe me, you’ll pay for it next time, but for now, since this is your first time, I want you to enjoy this.” She tells you and in retrospect you probably should have listened but you couldn’t with her boobs right in your face.
You sit up and immediately put a nipple in your mouth while cupping it with your hand and your other hand around her waist to help keep yourself up. You hum as you suck on it and can’t believe how many times you imagined them and how they would feel and taste, and now you know.
“Do you like them honey? Do you like sucking on them?” She asks when she heard you hum. You nod as your mouth is occupied at the moment and she grabs your head. “Suck on them all you want, baby. Your mouth feels so good on them.” She says and when you give a rather hard suck on them, her mouth hangs open, lost in the pleasure. You spend a good few minutes just enjoying her breasts, licking and sucking on them and enjoying the noises she’s making.
While Chessy is used to her breasts getting attention, she’s not used to this much, and she’s loving it. The men she’s dated as only ever paid like 30 seconds on them and when right to her pussy, the women usually about a minute before right to her pussy. And while she knows you’re both soaking wet right now, she can’t help but feel how good it is to have this much attention on them, it’s a kink she never knew she had.
“Oh my good girl, you’re just in love with sucking on them aren’t you?” She says when you pull away.
“Yes, I just love how big they are. I feel like I can suck on the whole thing.” You tell her and she stops you before you do. She’ll let you next time but for now, she wants this to move along. If you’re anywhere she is right now then you’re soaking wet in between your legs.
“Woah there, baby. You can next time but right now, I’ve been wondering how you taste.” She says and you smile.
“Can I sit on your face?” You suddenly ask as she takes your underwear off.
“What?” She asks. Your question caught her off guard, she knows she’ll accept, she wants to taste you and doesn’t matter to her who’s on their back.
“I heard about face sitting and was curious and want to try it.” You ask and she smiles.
“Of course.” She says to you and you get up while she gets on her back. You go up to her face and you align your entrance with her mouth and then lower yourself on her. The first lick she does and you both moan. She thinks you taste amazing and you think it felt really good and you both want more.
She starts licking all over your entrance and eventually sticks her tongue in and starts sliding in and out of you. You gasp and fall forward but she catches you and keeps you up by holding your waist. You end up bucking your hips and grab and yank her hair by accident as the pleasure is just so good. You feel bad for pulling her hand but she just moans and you think that either she didn’t mind or she liked it. You try again and she moaned again and realised that she likes her hair being pulled. She lifts you up a bit to speak. “You can do whatever you want to me, baby.” She says and then brings you back down on her mouth. Only this time she goes to your clit and you really start bucking your hips. You think that grabbing her hair isn’t enough so you put your hands back and grab her nipples. You squeeze them and she moans which vibrates on your clit and you let out a hitch pitch gasp as it took you by surprise and it felt good. You keep squeezing them as her moaning brings you more pleasure and before you know it, you’re close.
“Oh Chessy, I’m so close.” And she gives you a thumbs up to tell you to let go and cum. You do immediately after and Chessy licks it all up. You then get off of her and collapse next to her.
“Did that take a lot of you, baby?” She asks when she sees you spread out like a starfish and breathing hard, and you just nod. She just scoots up next to you and puts a hand over your chest. You turn to face her and kiss her lips, moaning when you taste yourself on her and that gives you a wave of energy. You take her underwear off and then go back wrapped up in her arms. While Chessy thinks you took them off to be able to feel her body on yours to calm down, you actually took them off to finger her. You bring her leg and put it over yours, then you bring a hand down in between her legs and immediately slide a finger in her entrance. She immediately bucks her hips, gasps and brings a hand to your arm, and mouth wide open. She hasn’t had anything in her in a few years and it feels so good. You add another one and slide them in and out of her slowly at first. “Baby, can you go faster?” She begs and you smile.
“I thought you said I could do whatever I want to you?” You tell her and she whines. Fuck sakes, she did say that.
“Didn’t think you’d make me regret saying it.” She jokes with you between gasps. You take pity on her as she made you feel really good and you want to do that for her. You go much faster and she hangs her mouth open again and gasps like crazy. “Oh god, yes baby, that feels so good.” She says and you risk it and add a third finger in her and she falls back on her back, overcome with pleasure. You put your other hand on her clit and rub it while you lean down and suck her nipple. She ends up leaning on her forearms with her legs spread wide open for you and she starts shaking. “Oh god, oh god baby, I’m so fucking close.” She says and you go and suck her other nipple. She comes immediately as you start sucking. You pull out of her and put your fingers in your mouth and lick them. She looks at you as you do that and as soon as you moan at the taste of her, she pounces at you and you end up on your back and her on top.
She wastes no time in kissing you and immediately sticks two fingers in you and you moan into the kiss. She curls her fingers in you while fingering you and you see stars and have to shut your eyes. She puts her thumb on your clit and rubs in a circular motion and you do a huge gasp and start shaking.
“Let go baby, it’s ok, I’ve got you.” She tells you and you immediately come. She pulls out of you then licks her fingers. She didn’t bring any cloths so the blanket will have to do, and cleans you both up. She the lays down next to you to help you both calm down with skin to skin.
“Hmm, I really enjoyed that.” You tell her and she giggles.
“Well I’m glad. Cause I really enjoyed it too.” She tells you and you smile. You end up getting dressed, packing everything up and get back on the horse after about 20 minutes of cuddling and you head back.
On the way back you get in a little teasing mood and you slip your hand under her shirt to cup her boob and rub her clit through her pants and underwear.
“What are you doing, baby?” She says and makes no attempt to stop you even though she could.
“Teasing you.” You simply say.
“Baby, if you keep at it then I’ll stop this horse and take you against the nearest tree.” She tells you. And you pull away from her clit but you put both your hands on her boobs after unclipping her bra.
“I just love these.” You say and she hums and leans back a bit, leaning into your touch. You both make it back to the house, Chessy nearly took you against a tree twice, and you end up clipping her bra back on. She brings the horse to the stable, she gets off then she helps you off. Once you land on the ground though, you wrap a leg around her waist and kiss her. She picks you up and brings you up against the stable wall and continues kissing you.
“Oh my god! Not what a brother wants to see!” You hear and you both pull back and see Nick there covering his eyes with a hand. Chessy puts you down and goes to put the horse away properly and give him something to eat.
“Sorry Nick.” You tell him and then laugh.
“Ya, sorry boss.” Chessy says and walks up behind you, wraps her arms around your waist and places her head on your shoulder.
“I had a feeling you two were together but I did not want to find out that way.” He complains and you and Chessy giggle. “Are those hickeys on your necks?” He says then looks to the horse and the fact you were gone for 3 hours. “Oh my god, on second thought don’t tell me, I don’t want to know. But Chessy, she is my little sister, so if you hurt her then I will fire you.” He tells her and points a finger at her.
“Well I guess it’s good that I have no plans to hurt her.” She says and gives your shoulder a kiss.
“And y/n, even though you’re my sister, Chessy has been with us for many years, so hurt her and you’ll have to deal with me.” He tells you and you turn to Chessy.
“Well I guess I’m stuck with you then.” You tell her with a huge smile. She responds to that with a hard kiss to your cheek and tickles your stomach and you giggle. You break out of her embrace and run away from her tickles and she runs after you, both of you laughing. Nick watches you run both away and shakes his head with a smile. “Such dorks.” He says out loud.
Taglist: @esposadejoyhuerta
@imaginesmultifandoms
@idonothingalldays-blog
@sexysapphicshopowner
@dvrkhcld
@lilfartbox1
@ricejucie
Let me know if you want to be added!
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colonelarr0w · 1 day
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I love your writing so much!!
Can I request some comfort Sukuna where he finally breaks down the walls around readers heart who has been hurt previously years before…reader made him wonder why they didn’t ever let him see them cry before and that bothered him.
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Sypnosis - Love wasn't for everyone, you had long since accepted that fact. But ... were you really okay with being alone?
Warning(s) - None besides mature themes and some foul language.
A/N - Oh my god I loved this request so much. Reader is definitely a little bit too much like me in this one, but it's okay because at least she somewhat fixed her issues!
! PIECE BEGINS UNDERNEATH THE CUT !
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Love wasn't for everyone. 
That was a hard pill to swallow, but it was one that you had swallowed after so many years of being constantly disappointed. One after the other, it was as if the heavens above were taunting you. Either that, or they were punishing you for some heinous crime. 
Even though you wanted so desperately to experience what everyone else did; stolen glances, random flowers, gentle kisses, passionate sex, late-night dates … you had just come to the conclusion that no matter what you did, it just wasn't for you.  
And you were okay with that. 
Yet, it was annoying to then hear others come to you spewing their bullshit. 
"You just haven't met the one yet!"  "Don't worry, love will come to you when you least expect it." 
"Trust me. The moment that you stop looking for love, it comes to find you." 
"You're quiet," Sukuna says harshly, dropping his finished cigarette onto the ground and snuffing out its orange hue with the toe of his boot. Your head jerks upward, blinking for a moment before you clear your throat – you hadn't meant to fall into a daydream.  
"Hmm? Oh, no, I'm okay," you answer quickly, lifting your own half-finished cigarette to your lips and inhaling. You hoped that the smoke would ease your nerves, but it seemed to have the opposite effect.  
Sukuna's eyes roam over your figure, his mind taking notes on your expression and body language. Your eyebrows are pinched together, eyes flickering to look at anything but him, your lips are turned downward in a frown that he somewhat wishes would go away. Your shoulders are stiff, back standing as straight as a line. Your hands are shaking. 
"Tch," he clicks his tongue, turning his body and half-stepping towards you. His fingers close over your wrist, pulling the cigarette away from your lips. "You're a shitty liar." 
Your eyes cast themselves to the ground, embarrassment heating your cheeks. He falters, but he toes out your cigarette anyway, then turning to face forward again – he doesn't want to make you any more uncomfortable than you already are.  
"What are you thinking about?" he asks after a beat of silence, hanging his arms over the railing of your apartment's balcony. Your eyes flicker to him for a moment, silently admiring the way that the moonlight illuminates his face and the tattoos inked into his skin.  
"Nothing that would interest you." 
Not when it comes to you. Talk to me, he wants to say. But the words fall dead on his tongue. He doesn't turn his head to look at you, only humming in acknowledgement.  
Another beat of silence passes over you and Sukuna. It gets you wondering … did he even like being around you? After all, the only reason why he kept meeting you after work was because he had offered you a ride home. In return, you offered him cigarettes. A fair trade. 
"Interesting or not," he hesitates, biting his tongue, "'s not good when you keep all that stuff in." 
You freeze, hands tightening their hold on the railing as you stare out at the cityscape. Already you can feel tears beginning to gather along your waterline. You try your hardest to swallow them away, but nothing.  
"I-I said it was fine," you manage to choke out, trying to subtly wipe at your eyes. Sukuna notices … he always did.  
He reaches into his pocket for something, then nudging your arm with a handkerchief closed between his fingers. You take it, mumbling a quiet thanks before wiping your eyes with it. "I'm sorry." 
Sukuna doesn't answer, he doesn't have to. It's more of a silent understanding that yes, something is bothering you, but in your own time you would open up to him about it. Maybe it wouldn't be tonight, maybe it wouldn't be tomorrow … but eventually, you would.  
He shrugs in response to your apology. "Nothin' to apologize for." 
Another beat of silence passes over you both, this one more comfortable than the last. Sukuna reaches into his pocket, taking out the cigarettes that you had given him. He opens the box with his thumb, hesitating on taking another one out.  
You eye the box out of the corner of your eye … it was the only reason he even came into your apartment, wasn't it? 
To your shock, he drops the box off of the edge of the balcony, watching it through half-lidded eyes as it falls out of sight. You turn your head to look at him, finding him already staring at you.  
Neither of you say anything.    
One minute turns into two, two into four, four into six.  
"Y'know, I get the whole … wanting to be alone thing," Sukuna says, turning away from you so that he wouldn't have to look at your slightly pained expression. He leans further against the railing, gaze focusing on the blinking lights of a nearby billboard.  
"You can tell yourself all you want that you want to be alone," he finally turns to you, "but do you really want that?" 
You freeze, eyes wide like a deer that had been caught in headlights. Blankly, you stare at him, mind struggling to mull over what he had just asked you.  
Did you really want to be alone? 
"I-" You pause, swallowing the lump that had settled in the center of your throat. "I don't." 
With that, Sukuna swallows all of his pride and tugs you into his arms. You fold into him, nails biting into the back of his leather jacket – the one that reeks of smoke and of must. But at the same time, those two comforting smells remind you that right now, in this moment, you aren't truly alone.  
Do y'all want a part two of this? Or like a series of Sukuna and !Non-Trusting girlfriend? 
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olderthannetfic · 20 hours
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I just got a comment saying I should have tagged for dom/sub undertones and I'm a little confused. In canon, this guy always bosses his wife around re: doing shit that's healthy for her - napping, drinking water, remembering to eat more than once a day, getting more than 3 hours of sleep - and she lovingly calls him "Boss Man" as a nickname because of it. On some occasions where she's gone more than a day without eating he'll swipe her phone and order her to eat before she gets it back, something she always seems to find endearing. There's a lot of 'I didn't mean to worry you', 'you're worth worrying about, now here's your favorite homemade walnut bread' stuff, all there in canon, just lifted from canon and transplanted into my fic.
Is this dom/sub stuff? I'm aroace so I've never been in a relationship, but I assumed "take care of yourself" "I will but I will call you a silly nickname over it" was regular relationship stuff. Or is it that the frequency of it makes it dom/sub stuff, and I'm just not grasping that because my neurodivergency is making me not read the social cues correctly? I was only recently diagnosed but this has been a problem for a long time, the whole line between normal and abnormal behavior, so I thought I'd ask you. You're much more well-read than I am and know a lot more about shipping dynamics and how they're tagged. I feel like you're an expert whose opinion carries a lot of conclusions-informed-by-knowledge and so your take could help me figure this out.
People who are doms or subs or write them, if you have a guide on this stuff, that'd be cool, too. I want to educate myself more so I know if I should tag something. After all, I can't get my story to people who want to read it if it doesn't show up in the tags they're searching for. Readers aren't mindreaders. It's on me to make sure they can get ahold of the things they're looking for. I just need to work around my own ADHD-addled brain to do it.
--
I think this is the usual pattern of demanding silly tags that would only make sense in that reader's own bookmarks.
Yes, caretaking and food control of various kinds can be a part of BDSM. No, your description of canon does not make it sound like this has obvious undertones.
Readers are going to have different interpretations. It's possible that other readers would agree with this one. I have my doubts. I suspect they're projecting. But sure, maybe other people would think there was some of that vibe.
However, if you did not intend the fic to read this way, I would not add the tag. This is not what the fic is about.
--
As for what this kind of thing can look like when it is intended as a dom/sub activity, the movie Secretary has a bunch of examples. She calls him on the phone to tell him what her family's dinner looks like that night; he gives her instructions about which things she can eat how much of. The way she acts while making that phone call makes it clear it's an exciting game to her. Another time, he tells her she's not allowed to cut herself anymore: he will provide what she needs.
Even if the characters are being playful, just nagging someone to do basic self care doesn't really come across as this. It's more charged when it's an intentional power exchange thing.
It's more like... hmm... if you and a friend agreed to LARP as characters for a day. Even if you were acting fairly normal and doing things you'd often do anyway, there would be this added extra vibe to it that someone who knew you well could probably detect.
It's not so much about the specific behaviors: it's about the extra meaning those people ascribe to them. If it doesn't seem like the canon characters think of this caretaking any specific way and you, as the fic author, don't see it that way, then I don't think it will generally read as a dom/sub thing to most readers.
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naompspsps · 2 days
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Uhhhhh, *Moonwalks into ask box* Shawty ily fr /p you and me one in the same, I literally two two very long chapters of a new fic today and having the Pomfiore boys was a cherry on top…..now I have a new idea for you….
What if the dark mirror picked up a child reader, like 8-10 y/o…how would the staff and students react? 🤭
Their reaction to 8 years old you.
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Summary: You're an 8 year old kid who was always left out with your friend group, So while you watch them have fun, you just decide to sleep on a nearby bench.
Then you wake up in a strange.. Large room. Where are your parents? You don't know, and you don't remember for some reason. You remember the part where you felt left out, but you don't remember who were the people that pushed you out of the group.
You just appeared out of the dark mirror, leaving you to wander around the school with students looking at you. But then, they come to help you.
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Ft. Divus Crewel, Dire Crowley, Mozus Trein and Ashton Vargas.
A/n: This was so fun to do lmao, now i wanna see Heartslabyul's reaction next. Anyways hi shawty, how r u.
Taglist bcs I wanna do it for fun: @frootloopscos
! do not repost or translate my works anywhere. do not copy or use my works in any site, Reblogs are appreciated alot though !
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Ashton Vargas
He gives out the vibes of being a babysitter that you never plan to let go. Ever. Like, he made your whole life better just with one single idea that he pulled the whole student army for. That's a memory you never want to forget.
Vargas definitely made the students play with you, easily. With one command, They're already following. Obviously, He becomes the usual supportive audience with the other students, like it's some football team game.
Vargas was surprised into seeing a little kid, but who wouldn't be surprised? It took him only seconds to smile brightly and take the opportunity to babysit you. He looks like someone you could trust so, Here you are, with Vargas in the field.
You sit beside Vargas during class Comfortably, wow.. So many students on brooms! Your eyes sparkle. Oh.. How you wish to get to have fun like that. You look down on the grass.
Students look at you, Like they've heard of the rumours about you appearing out of nowhere without any memories of who were the people you knew back there. You play with your hands, bored.
You can't really have fun. It's like, forbidden for you. Maybe, it isn't.. As Vargas looks at you. "Heyy, Champ, What's wrong?" He kneels down beside you, a hand on your shoulder.
You look at the students on the broom, then back to your hands. "I'm just.. Bored." You whisper out.
Vargas thinks for a moment, then looking down at you, noticing the way you looked at the students and embarrassedly looking away. "Hmm.. Say, You wanna play?" You quickly look at him. Did you just hear that right? Play? You nod eagerly yet, excitedly.
He laughs out loud, "Alright! Students! We have a playmate!" Vargas cracks his knuckles on his hand, before lifting you up in the air and yelling. "GET THEM!!"
One of the students quickly fly down to you, grabbing you in a protective hold infront of him, just so that you won't fall. You look down. "Woooah!" You hold onto the broom. "Fun?" The student asks, You look up at them with a bright smile plastered on your face. "Mhm! Mhm!"
You can hear Vargas shouting from down there, cheering you on. "Here, throw this in that hoop." The student hands you a ball. You look at the hoop. "But it's too far!"
"It doesn't matter, go ahead and try." You use all your kiddie strength to throw the ball. To your surprise, It actually hit. You could hear Vargas and the rest of the students shouting and cheering. So did the student behind you also laugh and praise you.
"GOOD JOB CHAMP!!!" Vargas jumps and raises his fist up in the air. The other students offer Vargas chest bumps. How could he refuse to those in such a worldwide champion?! "...Look away, Kid." The student behind you whispers, covering your eyes with his hand. "Huh?" You question.
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Mozus Trein
Trein wants to treat you like you're his other grandchild, you're just so adorable that he wants to take you. So, He does! Even if he thinks you would bother the class, Well, You didn't. You were just playing with Lucius under the desk.
He would realize so quick that you might be sweating in there, so he just brings you out to sit on his chair while he teaches, Lucius on your lap and letting you pat and caress him.
You walk with Trein inside of the classroom, The whole class filling with 'aw' and 'so cute''s, But, Does it bother you? No, Does it bother Trein? No. Does it bother Lucius? Yes. Lucius meows loudly at the students, telling them to shut up.
You look up at Lucius, who was getting held by Trein. Trein looks at you, as you make grabby hands. "Carry??" He asks. Damn, He's too old for this. You shake your head. "No? What is it?-- Oh, Lucius? You want to hold Lucius?"
You nod. Trein walks up to his desk and places Lucius on the desk. You walk at the side of the desk, hiding from the students so you aren't much of a bother in their class. Lucius jumps off the desk and lands on the ground, walking closer to you.
You watch Lucius get comfy on your lap. He wouldn't mind right?.. You gently rest your hand on his fur, and he doesn't resist. Then you slowly caress him, and he still doesn't meow or scratch you. It might take a while.. You mutter to yourself.
It's been, How long.. 40 minutes? You've been hugging and playing with Lucius for a while now. It's bit hot in your spot.. But you also don't want to disrupt Trein's class. So you just, continue running your fingers through Lucius' fur.
You don't even notice Trein looking at you. "[Name], Child, You're sweating. Go ahead and take a seat here." Trein pats on his chair. But isn't he..- Oh- He's teaching. Oh well. You stand up, carrying Lucius in your arms as you plop on the seat like a slime.
That causing everyone to let out giggles of how cute you were. You cover yourself embarrassedly, Looking down at the cat and pretending you're busy. But even if you don't understand, You still try to by listening to his lectures.
Yeah, Okay. You don't Understand a thing with the lesson. You sigh softly. The thoughts of your friends' blurred faces in your head. You remember the situation.. But you can't remember their faces and their names. It's like they're just. Unknown to you now.
You kick your feet on the Chair, playfully pointing at the ceiling and closing one eye, Just doing random things by boredom taking over. At this point, Everyone can't focus with you acting so adorable. It's making them forget what part of lesson they're in right now.
"And that's the-" Trein looks at everyone in the class, seeing that they all had their focus on you. He lets out a frustrated sigh. "Oh dear. My child. Could you tell them to focus in my lesson?" You look at the class, trying to look tough.
"Go back to studying!" You yell, which everyone starts giggling more. "Uhh.. It didn't work.." You look up, only to see Trein holding his laugh. "Goodness, You are such an adorable child." He mumbles before announcing the most heart dropping, air losing, oxygen needing in a bad way news ever.
"Also, Homeworks about today's lesson. It's due tomorrow."
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Divus Crewel
He is skeptical of the issue at first, He doesn't even know what to do with you. But as time goes by, he starts to get comfortable with you, and ends up wanting to stay hanging out with you.
He brought you everywhere, Class, Lunch, Breaktime and even in his office. Everyone just isn't used to seeing the strict and cold teacher so warm around you.
You stare at Crewel. He stares back. While the rest of the teachers watch you both intesely stare, He takes a deep breath. "..Want a beer?" Crewel asks. "THEY'RE 8." Crowley shouts. "I DON'T KNOW WHAT I'M SUPPOSED TO DO."
"Oh dear.." Trein sighs. You walk closer to Crewel, tugging on his coat and giving him your dog plushie. Crewel just looks at you blankly. "I'm keeping the kid." He picks you up with ease and walks out of Crowley's office. "So.. We won the argument?" Crowley turns to Trein, who just nods. "We did."
You stayed with Crewel the entire day, not a single moment of you staying away from Crewel. In class, You just sit on a chair, taking a nap. Hugging the plushie that was in your arms. The students couldn't focus, nor could he. Not to mention, one of Crewel's dogs were on the desk, allowing you to use them as a pillow.
A few minutes later, You slowly open your eyes and yawn. You had a good nap.. You look at Everyone, who looked dead serious of getting a good grade. You get off your seat and rush towards Crewel. "Nice dream?" He asks, picking you up again. You look down.
You see the cauldron filled with magic. "Woah.." You gasp, seeing the liquid turn to a different color. "Cool?"
"Yeah!"
With your cuteness, it makes most of the students clench on their chest with tears in their eyes. How could you be so adorable?!
"Wanna mix, pup?" Crewel gives you the big stirring stick, and you take it, slowly stirring. The liquid is a bit thick.. So you struggle to stir it. But who says that's something you can't handle? You see the liquid turn purple. "Oooh.." You lean in closer.
"Is it interesting to see? Well watch this." Crewel puts a drop of another chemical, making it explode glitters. "WOOOAH!!" You yell. Crewel sighs. "Don't adopt the kid.. Don't adopt the kid.." He mumbles to himself.
Staying with him during his lunchbreak wasn't that bad at all, He just brought you in the courtyard to go to the flowers, And while you do that, you pick a red rose, run to Crewel and hand him the flower with your cheeky little grin.
Crewel has officially lost it. In a good way, He feels like his heart's been shot millions of times.
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Dire Crowley
Yall heard of the theories that Crowley might be Malleus' dad? Imagine that /j Nah, He'd have absolutely no idea what to do. But he just makes you stay in his office, Bring you to special lessons with his own hat on you instead.
Students may think him without a hat is weird because they've never seen him without it (cough cough book4 crowley cough), but looking at you makes them forget everything.
Coming out of the dark mirror was.. Confusing for Crowley, He had to blankly have a staring contest with the dark mirror. But he feels like he needs to find out why you don't remember your parents but you remember what happened back there.
Not even that, You weren't even crying at the fact that you literally do not know where you are or who were the people around you. You were just.. Nonchalant. Maybe still sleepy, but nonchalant. Crowley made you stay with him until he figures out what to do with you.
Should he adopt you? He doesn't want to send you to an orphanage, He thinks you're too special to be there.
Watching over you isn't that hard. All you did was sleep on him while he wrote his paperworks, play around and not bother him. Atleast you didn't give him a hard time.. But because of that, After he was done with his paperworks he asks you if you wanted to play with him.
How could you say no to that? You both ran around the office, putting on hats and random stuff. It was fun, you had to admit.
So, Now you're with Crowley on the rooftop, right under a classroom. "Okay, so what I want you to do is hold on to me and we'll be alright." Crowley whispers to you. You nod, holding onto him tightly.
Crowley jumps in the classroom from above, landing perfectly. Oh! You're still wearing his hat.. And his coat! "SPECIAL LESSONS!" He yells. Everyone looks at him weirdly. "Headmage.. Why do you look like th- OH MY GOODNESS!" A student points at you.
"AWWWW" Is all you hear in the classroom. "Special lessons!" You shout excitedly. You don't know what special lessons are, but just follow Crowley's lead. Cro- Crowley??
He's on the floor.. "THAT IS THE CUTEST KID I'VE EVER SEEN." Crowley sobs. You're just too cute that you even had the headmage tear up.
"But- Special lessons.." You mumble. He clears his throat and quickly gets up. "Ahem, Right. Right, Thank you, Little Assistant." Crowley takes his hat off your head and gives you little pat before putting the hat back on you again.
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Author's End Note: I'm putting Sam in the next part along with Heartslabyul, I can't 🗿🗿
! do not repost or translate my works anywhere. do not copy or use my works in any site, Reblogs are appreciated alot though !
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ravenwoodalum · 5 months
Text
on karamelle, why it sucks, and redeeming azteca's reputation.
I just got to Karamelle for the second time, and good lord. I hadn't forgotten how much I hated it, but it hit me like a wall of bricks. And I'm already preparing myself to marathon it and be fucking done questing here for at least a year.
I think it breaks down like this.
Baby's first workers rights movement/sugary-sweet surveillance state Listen. I know this is a game that doesn't allow for player characters to have much individual impact on the in-game narrative. I know we've had to do errands for cops. I know we work for a war criminal. I KNOW there are flaws in the system. But there's something about the way that Karamelle's set up that makes it all feel so. much. worse. And that's the fact that Karamelle has such a stellar reputation within the Spiral before this. The happiest place in the Spiral, the sweetest treats in the Spiral. Everyone seems to fucking love this place. Almost no one outside of those actually working there seem to understand how corrupt it is. And so the YW is talked down to at every turn, like this is their first exposure to a corrupt environment. And sure, maybe it is within, canon. YW gets isekai'd at a very young age and then made into a child soldier, maybe this is actually the first time in canon that they've been introduced to these concepts. But (and this may just be me) it feels really rude to the player -- who might actually have experience with these ideas -- to make them feel like a fucking idiot with the dialogue options. Karamelle's characters just feel rude.
Oh, so the Gobblers were a fatphobic, Roald Dahl type thing from the start. Cool cool cool. Any of you ever read Roald Dahl's book "The Twits"? It's a very unremarkable story all things considered, except for this bit.
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Aside from Roald Dahl's unavoidable history of antisemitism, does this remind you of anything? Honestly, this reminds me of the Gobbblers.
We first meet the Gobblers around level 10 in Wizard City -- creatures driven by consumption. And then we get to Empyrea and hear that the Alphoi -- skinny "civilized" creatures -- can become Gobblers if they eat too much or are unhealthy in their eating habits. Which makes one of our oldest running enemies a loop-around fatphobic thing, ESPECIALLY when we get to them in Karamelle, the home world of the Gobblers. Rosina, especially, just oozes fatphobia and diet culture. The literal vilification of being fat isn't even subtext, it's just text.
The Old One, The Cabal, and what to do when your escape from the world ends up shoving what you were escaping from right back in your face. When I was in sophomore year of college, fall of 2019, I had one of the worst mental health periods of my life. Antisemitism was fucking everywhere, I was always a moment away from a panic attack, and it felt like no one understood. While I'm lucky in the fact that I was able to get an official diagnosis for genetically inherited PTSD, alongside the reassurance that I wasn't fucking crazy, there was a period when I just needed to go home for a moment. So when I was going back to my dorm from the dining hall to make sure all my stuff was ready to go, I opened up tumblr and made a post on a long-gone RP sideblog I had for the Swedish Chef (y'know, from The Muppets? long story), and before I'd even gotten halfway across campus, I'd received threatening and violent messages from someone RPing as Borat, which only got worse when they realized they were talking to an actual Jewish person.
That escape from reality didn't even last five fucking minutes before the horrors I was trying to avoid found me.
Now, Wizard101 has always been a source of comfort for me. I made my account fourteen years ago, and I do not know what my life would look like if I hadn't done that. There are flaws with this game, yes, sure, but over the past five years (since I got a wiz compatible laptop) I've developed a bit of a reliance on it to get me through the horrors. No better form of escapism.
But no art form is free of the horrors.
And Wizard101 has the fucking Cabal and Old One.
The Cabal within the fiction of Wizard101 is a secret, nefarious organization pulling the strings on events across the Spiral, controlling history from the shadows. This term literally originates in antisemitic conspiracy theory, with the term 'cabal' originating from the term for Jewish mysticism, 'kabbalah'. And I promise you, you've heard plenty of applications of this conspiracy theory in real life too. It feeds into the idea that Jews (or 'global elite') control the government, the media, the banks.
And then, we get to the man in control of it all. The Old One. Whether or not this was intended, he's a walking, talking antisemitic caricature. The octopus as a symbol for the mythical Elders of Zion is a longstanding dogwhistle (see attached for a guide to this and many other visual dogwhistles). "Oh, he's based on H.P. Lovecraft-" So he's based on the works of a famous racist and antisemite, cool cool cool.
It's just exhausting, walking through a world that is so clearly modeled after Germany and other parts of eastern Europe, and finding antisemitism around every corner. And even more exhausting considering it's almost impossible to tell if they meant to do it. Antisemitism is so fucking ingrained in the world at this point that I don't actually know what they meant to do here, what they did maliciously or out of ignorance, or if any of it was put in with the purpose of turning it on its head. Over the past few years, it has become glaringly obvious that a lot of people don't realize when they're running across antisemitism, or even taking part in it. Including people I really thought would know better.
Side note. For those of you who know I see Dasein as Jewish, you may be wondering how I balance that out with the antisemitic nature of The Old One, since they share a physical form. I think of it like this. Dasein did not choose The Old One. He did not choose to resemble that, but he can attempt to reclaim it. Dasein's Judaism comes not from the resemblance he holds to the hatred that haunts us, but from the love that keeps us going. He questions authority and longstanding tradition, chooses to do what's right instead of what's expected, and is kind in the face of hatred. He literally makes himself, and a world, out of nothingness. Something out of Nothing. He's so Jewish you guys.
The Spiral's "Worst World Award" goes to... I know we all say "fuck Azteca" pretty often on this website, but I don't think it deserves to be deigned the worst world in Wiz. My main gripe with Azteca is how inaccessible it gets after Xibalba strikes -- the flashing lights aren't exactly photosensitive friendly. Which further lends frustration to my completionist nature, meaning I have to finish all quests, badges, and fishing before I finish the world (making it take forever to finish). Aside from that, there really isn't that much wrong with the world (and if you argue that it sucks because you can't save Azteca, I get it, but some tragedies are inescapable by their very nature). It's a problem of gameplay, versus a problem of plot in the case of Karamelle. And maybe its just because I'm a writer, but problems with plot feel much more egregious. I really do think Karamelle deserves more vitriol than it gets.
G-d, I can't wait to get to Lemuria.
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ask-artsy-oncie · 8 months
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I was reminded of the time that tumblr tried to make "monster high but with tumblr sexymen", and one of the characters was (obviously) the daughter of the once-ler.
And the funny thing to me about that is that in the canon of the illumination lorax movie, the once-ler is heavily implied to have an estranged daughter. I don't know all the sexymen off the top of my head but I think he might've been one of the only ones referenced in that trend who actually had a daughter in his own canon.
#Stupid shit#I'm gonna provide context in the tags for those who want it but I also like the idea of just leaving it there#Okay so for anyone who wasn't in the fandom: when people say the movie gave us no one to ship the Once-ler with they were LYING#The movie gave the Once-ler no MALE characters to ship him with - thus Oncest started#However - the second most popular Once-ler ship was between him and Norma#(Who - if you haven't seen the movie in a while - is Ted's grandmother who tells him about the Once-ler and how to find and barter with him#This was mostly just a ship born from theory and logical deduction - why does Norma know so much personal info about the Once-ler?#Were they perhaps friends? Lovers? In the past? Where was she in his life and at what points? When did she leave?#And people started making theories and shipping the two - primarily as past lovers. But there was art of them reconnecting for sure.#HOWEVER - this also meant that there was a theory that Ted's mom was also related to the Once-ler#As in - hmm this daughter of a very short fat woman is oddly tall and thin... hmmm#And so the running theory wasn't just that the Once-ler and Norma were once lovers - but that the Once-ler was also Ted's grandfather#Who was entirely estranged from the family due to self-exile and possibly bad blood between him and Norma at some point during his downfall#(I actually do think that it's funny that the Once-ler's youngest design purposefully draws some comparison between him & the Truffula tree#Only for the character theorized to be his daughter to also evoke some Truffula tree imagery in her design)#ANYWAYS that was a theory for about as long as the movie was out - Normaler (the ship) was a thing for as long (if not longer) than Oncest#And was present enough that there were like actively flame wars between the two groups of shippers#Like literally I directly remember this it's so insane to me that no one ever brings this up when talking about the shipping in this fandom#BUT THEN!!!! The Lorax comes out on DVD. The fandom rejoices and everyone takes pictures of themselves buying or holding the DVD.#If you dig far enough and I haven't deleted it yet you might find mine. I was in full cosplay wig and all.#Anyways - we have the movie in HD now!! No more cam rip footage!!!#And now we can take high-quality screenshots that truly show off the detail of the backgrounds in this movie#(The fandom loved to gush about how detailed and well-designed the movie's backgrounds were - that wasn't just a throwaway transition)#Only - what's this?????#In one of the shots at the end of the movie - we very briefly get to see the inside of the Once-ler's lurkim - like the living room#AND THERE - IN THE BACKGROUND - ONLY VISIBLE IN HD#IS A PHOTOGRAPH OF A WOMAN WHO SUSPICIOUSLY HAS THE EXACT SAME SILHOUETTE AS NORMA#Normaler fans rejoice and 'Grandpa Once-ler' theory is accepted into canon (or - more accurately - 'implied canon') by most fans#So yes - for those keeping track - while the evidence wasn't as concrete as it could have been#The Once-ler is implied to have been the father of Ted's mom in the movie
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cerealmonster15 · 1 year
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I was tryin 2 snap myself outta some emotional paralysis of Being Less Stressed about Posting and Drawing The Right Stuff To Appeal To Others, and I was thinkin i can draw whatever cuz im not exactly someone people specifically follow for drawings, I just happen 2 post some of my silly doodle time but i dont think thats like, WHY people are here. But then I was like hang on. why ARE people here tho 🤨🤨🤨 cuz like 90% of the time I follow someone it’s cuz I like their art lol. One or two people have told me they found me from ao3 but I reckon thats the minority so WHAT excuse do the rest of u have
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mental breakdown in the tags incoming scroll past for your own well being
#so like im just WORRIED#cause like what if ive fully just convinced myself i think he's attractive but I actually dont think he is and I'm just jerking him around#and actinf like i think hes cute cause hes the first guy im not even joking basically ever since the ripe old age of 9 except for cameron#idgaf about his privacy he can fuck off but anyway he is like the first guy other than tiny little awkward 9 year olds to show me any form#of attention. and what if im craving it so bad im just convincing myself that i like him? like am i doing that? cause never in my life have#i gotten like those fucking butterflies or whatever around guys cause ive never been around them much so ive always felt so awkward around#them and just ignored them. like i even have a hard time talking to my male coworkers and looking them in the eye. and i just make up these#scenarios where every single male coworker that ever showed me any form of attention is actually secretly going to fall in love with me and#its like FUCK is that just all I'm doing? pretending? on both ends? but then i have to tell myself that my anxiety is more often than not#full of shit. but like ive craved attention all my life and what if im juat latching on to the first guy that gives that to me? i don't#wanna be that asshole. im just scared. how does everyone just date people? i thought for a while i may be ace in some way#but im also just wondering if i repressed myself that fucking much from literally age 6 that it did that much damage to me? cause ive always#been weird about myself and my body and things like that and i vividly remember wearing a tank top at age 6 in school and being freaked out#the whole day that i would get dress coded. i need to unpack this in therapy hardcore. cause i was also sa-ed when i was younger but i can't#exactly remember how old i was.#but i just think ive always repressed myself and pushed all of that down to the point that i dont know what it feels like? cause i watch#movies and read books and listen to music qnd im like hmm thats never happened to me something must be Wrong With Me.#thanks for coming to my ted talk#im so fucking nauseous#is that butterflies lmao#🎸
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miniimight · 7 months
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❝ CAN YOU STOP PUTTING EVERYTHING ON THE TOP SHELVES?! ❞ you finally talk to him after a little argument ( height difference )
with deku, bakugou, rody
IZUKU
he tried to look nonchalant as he responded with a questioning hum. yeah, he was putting stuff on the top shelves. "hmm, what?"
you crossed your arms and glared at him. "you heard me."
he turned to you with the picture of innocence plastered on his face. "i don't know what you mean, i just put things where i put them. it just happens that they're high up."
you raised an accusatory eyebrow.
"for you, anyway." he mumbled, turning back to make his sandwich.
"exactly!" you exclaimed. "for me! you know i can't reach things up there and you do it on purpose!" you found your face was hot as you explained it.
you knew exactly why—you both had gotten into a little fight and you weren't talking to him for a while. this was the first time you had spoken since the argument, and even though you were yelling at him, your voice was music to his ears.
a small smile spread on his face despite his efforts to feign innocence. "on purpose?"
"yes!"
he paused, walking towards you. his disregard for space led to you being crammed against the counter behind you. he leaned over you and asked, "what it is that you need, love?"
your cheeks heated and you cast your gaze to the floor. "the box up there..." you murmured. he stretched to reach it and you flattened your palms against his chest. "izuku! you're squishing me—!"
he chuckled and brought the box down to the counter before kissing your forehead. "i'm glad we're talking again."
BAKUGO
"what was that?" he asked you, a knowing smirk on his face.
you huffed, already on top the counter trying (and failing) to reach the stupid box you needed. "i said stop putting shit on the top shelves. you know i can't reach it."
he shrugged, turning his attention back to his phone. "i dunno what you're talkin' about, princess."
you glared and pointed to the box. "you don't even use it?!"
"aw, don't jump the gun on me now, babe. you know i like to switch things up a lil' bit." he grinned, taking so much joy in your visible frustration. he was just happy you were speaking with him again.
you rolled your eyes, electing to ignore him as you tried your best not to fall off the surface or pull the cabinet down with you.
bakugo eyed you carefully as he threw away the thought of you begging for his help, reluctantly decided your immediate safety was more important. "'kay, that's enough." he walked over, his hands on your hips steadying your wobbly movement. "you'll hurt yourself, y/n. come down."
"i want that stupid box..." you pouted.
he rolled his eyes, his arms now circling around you as he lifted you off the counter. you gasped and curled your legs towards your body, clutching his wrists.
"oh, relax, you know i won't drop ya." he grumbled and set you down next to him. he easily plucked the box from its high perch, handing it to you.
"happy now?" he pinched your cheek. "stubborn brat. could've broken a bone or somethin'."
RODY
"what, having trouble sweetheart?" he snickered.
your face heated and you huffed. "rody... just get it for me, please."
"hmmm..." he pretended he was thinking hard. "i think... no."
you looked at him incredulously. "no? you put it up there!"
"i so did not." he turned up his nose, though pino was smiling and nodding her head.
you narrowed your eyes at him. "you're sabotaging me into breaking your silent treatment."
"whaaaat?" he exaggerated confusion. he held his head and pointed at himself dumbly. "me?"
"you're impossible." you rolled your eyes, moving to climb onto the counter.
"in any case, my plan worked wonderfully," his signature smirk graced his lips as he laughed softly, leaning against the wall to survey your distress.
your fingers just about brushed the side of the box before pino crashed into it, sending it further back and completely out of your reach. you swiveled to glare at the little pink bird. "pino!"
she bashfully twirled in the air before happily fluttering away.
rody's laughter filled your ears and you groaned, resting your head against the shelf. you heard shuffling—when you looked up, rody and his stupid smug smirk was beside you, easily bringing the box down.
"now we both look stupid, yeah?" he pressed a fat kiss on your cheek and softened when you laughed brightly.
© miniimight ! thanks for reading <3
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thefatedthoughtofyou · 2 months
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He's been at Steve's house a week before he manages to gather up the courage to ask.
He shuffles into the living room, Steve's old slippers on his feet, Steve's old pajamas hanging off him. He'd lost weight in the hospital. And hadn't gained much back yet, still in too much pain to really have an appetite. But this, it needed doing. He needed it done.
"Steve?" He asks, throat clicking, voice scratchy from underuse. Steve looks away from the tv immediately, hits the mute button, eyes wide and on Eddie.
"Hey. You okay?" He asks, turning his whole body on the couch, towards Eddie, giving him his full attention.
Eddie just nods. Slowly. His eyes going unfocused, staring at the floor.
"Eddie?" And Steve's in front of him now, he hadn't even heard him get up.
"Hmm?" He hums in his throat, eyes still feeling foggy.
"Did you need something?" Steve asks, Eddie's eyes focus, the concern in Steve's voice bring him back into his body. He looks at Steve, nods, says,
"I need you to cut my hair." His lip trembles, he digs his teeth in.
"You... what?" Steve's confused. Rightfully so. Eddie swallows around the fire in his throat, tries to explain it to Steve. This thing he can barley figure out himself. Has a half formed idea at best. He wipes at his nose with the back of his hand, Steve steps a little closer.
"It's just- it keeps- I keep laying on it. And it... pulls. And I'm sleeping and it pulls and I wake up and I can't breathe and it's-" he inhales, sharp and shakey and then Steve is there, his hands on Eddie's shoulders.
"Okay. It's okay. I'll do it. Whatever you want Ed's." He pulls Eddie upstairs, into his bathroom. Stands with him in front of the mirror, scissors in hand.
"Where do you want it?" Steve asks, his eyes meeting Eddie's in the mirror. Eddie takes a deep breath, brings his hand up, winces at the pull on his ribs but keeps going.
"Above my shoulders. But like... I wanna still be able to tuck it behind my ears?" He's not sure why it comes out as a question, but Steve just nods, Eddie sees his lips twitch into the start of a smile before dropping again. He reach up, drags his fingers genlty through Eddie hair.
His stomach sinks, his hair is gross. He hasn't washed it in days. Too tired. Too much pain. Too much effort.
"Sorry my hair's gross." He mumbles, lips barley moving.
"It's not. It's fine." Steve assures him, his voice soft, sections out a small lock of hair, he looks at Eddie in the mirror again.
"You're sure about this?" He asks, he looks sad. Eddie hates it. But also doesn't. Because it means Steve sees him, understands him, and how important his hair is to him.
But it doesn't matter right now. That his hair is a peice of him, a peice of the Eddie he'd built to keep himself safe. A peice of his armor.
"I'm sure. Please." He isn't begging, exactly, but his hands fist in his pajama pants, and it feels like it anyway.
"I'm gonna go just above your shoulder at first okay? And then if you want more off we can do that." Steve waits for Eddie to agree and then starts cutting.
Eddie closes his eyes when the scissors sink through his hair. Keeps them closed as Steve works. He stops a few cuts in and tells Eddie to wait there. Eddie sits on the toilet seat as he waits for Steve to come back.
He brings a radio with him, clicks in one of the tapes Eddie made him, and gets back to work. Eddie's eyes stay closed. He finds himself smiling as he listens to Steve hum behind him. Scrunches his nose when Steve full on sings a few times.
Not because he's bad. He's got a really nice voice actually. Eddie loves listening to him sing. But if he didn't scrunch his face he might to do something else instead, something stupid, with Steve so close.
It only takes a couple songs before Steve's hands are on his shoulders, gentle, reassuring, an anchor.
"Okay. It's done. Or at least. Might be. I can take more off if you need me too." His voice is soft in Eddie's ear, Eddie can feel the heat of his chest on his back he's so close.
He opens his eyes and feels his heart flutter in his chest. His head swimming a little. His hair hadn't been this short since junior year. He can see Steve watching him in the mirror.
"Good?" He asks, dragging his lip into his mouth and letting it go again.
"I think so." Eddie says, feeling a bit dazzed, a bit dizzy. And then Steve fucking reaches up with both hands, tucks Eddie's hair behind his ears genlty, his fingers moving down his neck to rest back on his shoulders.
"I could take another inch. It'd still fit behind your ears." Steve's eyes are moving over his head, like he's doing some complex math equation. Eddie wants to cry. His chest tight.
"Okay. Take it." He says, Steve's eyes move to his in their reflections again.
"Yeah?" Steve asks, reaching up and smoothing his hand over Eddie's hair. Eddie nods.
"Yeah. One more inch." He breathes the words out, like he just needs them gone, out of his mouth. Steve smiles at him, untucks his hair from his ears and starts cutting again.
Eddie watches him this time. Watches the way his tongue sticks out as he concentrates, measuring Eddie's hair between his fingers before he cuts. His tongue peaking out between his lips, brow furrowed in concentration.
Eddie watches him and tries to convince himself he actually wanted it shorter. And maybe he did. But he knows too, that he didn't want Steve to stop touching him. Steve's eyes meet his in the mirror and he smiles again. Eddie looks away. His cheeks burning.
"Okay. You're done Munson." His voice is teasing, it makes Eddie's stomach flutter.
"Thanks. Harrington." He teases back. Too soft. He knows. But he can't help it. His voice is stuck in his throat. Steve snorts as Eddie turns, takes a step toward the door.
"Actually. Can I-" Steve stops, his hand curling around Eddie's bicep, stopping him there. Eddie looks at him. Waiting.
"Can I wash your hair for you?" Steve asks, his voice quiet, Eddie barely hears it over the radio.
"My...?" Is Eddie's articulate reply.
"Please? It'll make you feel better. I- I think." Steve stammers a bit, always so endearing when he does that. Eddie loves when he's flustered.
"I uh... yeah okay. If you want." Eddie shrugs, tries to act normal. Like any of this is normal. And Steve fucking beams at him, that beautiful smile on full display.
"Okay cool. Just uh... here you can sit here while I get this cleaned up and get a towel and I'll be right back." He's talking fast, his hands flailing and jumping around as he talks. Eddie just nods, smiling at him as he watches him toss Eddie's chopped hair into the trash. Watches him take a lock of it and tie it in a knot, tells Eddie he'll put it somewhere safe. So they'll know when it's fully grown out again.
Steve wipes up the counter and disappears, comes back with two towels a few seconds later. Instructs Eddie to sit on the floor. He sets a towel down for him to sit on and lays the other over the side of the tub.
Eddie lets Steve guide him. His hands gentle as he lowers Eddie's head back over the tub, asks if he's comfortable, Eddie hums an affirmation. Steve makes sure the water is warm, not too hot, because Eddie doesn't like hot water. He gets it perfect. And then starts pouring water onto Eddie's hair.
Eddie's not sure where he got the cup. Or if it was already there for some reason. He means to ask but Steve's fingers sink into his hair and his brain short circuits. The shampoo smells amazing. Minty. It tingles against his scalp in the best way as Steve's fingers move in slow circles.
Eddie's eyes fall closed. He's sure he makes some obscene noise but Steve is kind enough not to comment. His fingers working magic in Eddie's hair. He rinses with warm water, the contrast from the cool minty feeling making Eddie shiver.
He hears Steve laugh a quiet laugh as he does and smiles himself. He hears another bottle pop open and closed and then Steve's fingers are back. Working the conditioner into his hair slowly, massaging it into his scalp as well. His hands moving slowly, with a purpose, for what feels like hours. He pulls back eventually, fingers dragging slowly through Eddie's hair as he goes.
"I'm gonna let that sit for about two minutes and then we'll rinse okay? You doin okay? Not in pain are you?" Steve all but whispers in Eddie's ear. The radio is still playing in the background. But Eddie couldn't tell you a single fucking song that had played since Steve started touching him.
"I'm good. Kinda tired. But that might just be your magic fingers." He peaks one eye open, watches as Steve laughs, shakes his head. He closes his eye again and laughs too. Only it wasn't a joke. Not really. Steve's fingers were magic. Just like the rest of him.
Steve hums along to Queen's Radio Ga Ga as they wait, Eddie tapping out the beat on his thigh as Steve hums and sways. The song ends and Steve scoots closer.
"Ready?" He asks, turning the water back on.
"As I'll ever be." Eddie deadpans, scooting back a bit from where he'd slid down.
"You're not gonna try and put products in my hair and blow dry it are you?" Eddie asks as Steve starts pouring water over him, fingers moving quicker now, moving his hair around to get it clean, he snorts again.
"No. Just wanted to get you clean." He says, pouring one last cup of water over his hair and turning the tap off. He grabs at each side of the towel under Eddie's neck and lifts, pulling Eddie up and wrapping his hair in one smooth motion. Eddie's eyes land on him and he can't help it.
"So my hair was gross. I knew it." He sighs, watches Steve's nose crinkle.
"It really wasn't that bad. But you thought it was. So i figured this would help." Steve shrugged, like it was nothing. Eddie bit his lip as Steve patted and scrunched his hair in the towel, being careful not to pull.
He claps his hands down on his thighs and helps Eddie get back on his feet. Pulls him genlty to stand in front of the mirror again and smiles soflty when Eddie takes the towel off his head and drags his own fingers through his hair.
It's short, leveled at his chin, a little above when he tucks it behind his ears. And he feels... better. Lighter. He shoves his hands up into the back of it, taking a deep breathe when his fingers drag over his neck, it makes him shiver.
"Fuck. I'm gonna be cold now." He mutters, chuckling in his throat, he hadn't thought about that.
"I'll keep you warm." Steve's voice is soft, when he speaks. The tape in the deck clicks and goes quiet as they stare at each other in the mirror.
"I just wanted you to feel better. But I'll gladly keep you warm too. Whatever you need Eddie. I- I mean I'm here. For you. Not goin anywhere." He shrugs after he mumbles through his little confession, his eyes on the floor when he turns to Eddie.
"I feel better." Eddie whispers, bites his lip and decides to be brave.
He steps forward, into Steve's space, Steve lifts his head, hazel eyes darting around Eddie's face. Eddie hears his breath stutter when he leans closer, presses his lips to Steve's cheek, firm.
Wanting no doubt in Steve's mind that Eddie means this. Means to kiss him. Means to pull him into a tight hug after. Means to hum happily into Steve's neck when Steve pulls him close, arms wrapping around Eddie's skinny frame and holding him tight.
"I'm not going anywhere either." Eddie breathes into his shoulder, presses another kiss there, into his shirt, like a promise. Steve squeezes him tighter, Eddie thinks he might be crying. His chest fluttering against Eddie's as he breathes shakily.
"Can I sleep in your bed tonight?" Eddie asks, lets Steve pull away a bit so he can see him. Eddie was right, there are tears in his eyes, but he's smiling as he looks at Eddie.
"Yeah. Course you can. You can sleep there every night if you want. Forever." Steve says, nuzzles into Eddie touch as he wipes tears away from his flushed cheeks.
"Forever huh?" Eddie teases, kissing acoss Steve's cheeks genlty as he laughs, it's wet, and wobbly, and Eddie is so fucking in love with him already.
"Yeah. Forever. Or however long you want me I guess." He shrugs again, dismissive, as if he really thinks Eddie would ever give him up.
"Forever sounds good to me. Not fucking letting you go now I've got you." Eddie whispers, his hands holding Steve's face, Steve's hands on his wrists, holding him too.
"You're gonna keep me forever?" Steve asks, his lip trembling as he looks at Eddie with hope in his teary eyes.
"Forever and ever, if I can." Eddie nods, and it seems to break Steve. He sighs, grabs at Eddie's pajama shirt and tugs him forward. Their lips crash together, a little rough at first, their teeth clicking until Steve seems to calm and slow down. His lips move genlty against Eddie's, soft and slow, and when he pulls back he's smiling again, his crooked little half smile that Eddie loves so much.
Steve scrunches his hair a few more times and then drags Eddie upstairs, gets them both comfy in his bed. And he holds Eddie as they fall alseep, pressing kisses into his hair and against his temple before sleep takes him.
Eddie wakes up warm. Drapped across Steve's chest as the sun hits them. He feels lips press into his hair, smiles when Steve makes exaggerated kissy noises. But he keeps his eyes closed, nuzzles deeper into Steve as he feels his fingers press into his hair.
Eddie hums as they drag through a few times, nimbly untangling rats or snags as they move. He sinks deeper into Steve, his heart fluttering as Steve's hand moves through his hair genlty, scratching at his scalp as he goes, before settling against the back of his neck, his thumb moving in slow cirles against the newly exposed skin.
Eddie whimpers into Steve's chest and snuggles closer, Steve keeping him warm, just like he promised. Eddie couldn't wait to spend forever with him.
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chelseeebe · 4 months
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still into you
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after abruptly leaving hawkins (and you) seven years ago, eddie munson, ex-boyfriend turned rockstar, makes a grand return. how will things pan out when your lives couldn’t be further apart?
this has been in the drafts for god knows how long and you can definitely tell where my writing started to improve as i came back to it.. hope y’all enjoy anyway! this is so long good lord. also includes a bit of bestfriendism with stevie!
18+. mdni. smut. mentions of alcohol. eddie is a dickhead. no use of y/n!
read part two here.
‎♡‧₊˚
‘you know he’s coming back next weekend?’ steve mutters, nodding towards you as you rip the sellotape from the brown box, beginning to stack the cans of soup.
‘is he? oh my god oh my god,’ feigning excitement with a straight face.
you’d already known he was coming back, you’d received the invitation just like everybody else. except, you’d swiftly put the gimmicky piece of paper into the trash and got on with your day. confused why everyone else seemed to be losing their goddamn minds over it.
he huffs quietly, helping you with the heavy tins, ‘are you gonna go?’ steve didn’t actually work in melvalds but came in on his breaks purely to chat and distract you from your work.
‘am i gonna go? hmm, let me think.. no.’
‘he wants to see you.. you should come,’ prodding his elbow into your side, collapsing the box into a flat piece of cardboard.
‘you spoke to him?’ ears perking up. you didn’t care if he’d mentioned you. no, really.
‘yeah.. he called a few weeks ago, y’know when the invitations got sent out,’ picking up the next box to start filling the shelf.
‘oh! it’s nice to know he called you and just hilarious to know i never got a phone call,’ getting frankly quite sick of hearing about eddie fucking munson and his grand return.
once upon a time, eddie had actually been your boyfriend. must’ve been 7 or so years ago by this point.. anyway, that was before he’d got his big break and decided that he was going to completely forget about hawkins.. and about you. you’d still been together after his first tiny tour, excitedly waiting for him to come home when he just.. never did.
he’d had the decency to at least call and tell you that he was breaking up with you.. we’re just in different places right now.. it’s not you.. i don’t want you to ruin your life waiting for me..
it was essentially a whole bunch of bullshit, because the very next month he was spotted with some bottle blonde model looking suspiciously close at some club he’d have absolutely hated the year prior. it was like a punch to the gut, flicking through the pages of the trashy magazine just knowing that you hadn’t been enough for this new lifestyle of his.
from then on, you’d decided to disengage with any and everything about him. turning the tv off when corroded coffin came on one of the morning talk shows, leaving the room at parties when one of his song’s inevitably came on and just completely blanking out of the conversation when his name was brought up. it was easier that way, saved your feelings and the awkward glances you’d get.
at some point things had become slightly more complicated and you’re not sure how exactly it had happened but you had wound up pregnant. and by jason carver no less. maybe it was your shared disdain for eddie that had brought you together. who knows?
but it had happened and now you had to deal with it. and although jason may come in a close second to world’s biggest assholes.. you had gained a beautiful daughter from it all and had become quite content with your single mom life.
people had come and gone, robin jetting off to some fancy college in california.. jonathan and nancy ending up in new york at some hot-shot newspaper.. the kids you’d sort of gathered had all gone off to various colleges, becoming adults themselves. all except for steve.
steve had stayed in hawkins like you, begrudgingly following his father’s footsteps, getting a job at his accounting firm. it was good money and kept his dad happy so he couldn’t fault it really. he’d even got his own place just down the street from your house and at some point you’d just accepted that he was probably your only friend in hawkins.
it had brought the two of you undeniably closer and maybe you’d even call him your best friend now. well, except for right now as he was beginning to piss you off with all this fussing over eddie.
‘you have to come.. it’s not just for him, everyone is going.. it’s a reunion,’ steve continues to pester you despite your efforts to shut him down.
‘steve, i’m not going and that’s that.’
he sighs, staring at you with a blank expression, ‘okay, well.. i’ll tell him it’s a maybe,’ checking his watch before frowning, ‘shit, i’m late.. i’ll see you later,’ throwing the empty cardboard to the floor before dashing off down the aisle, giving you an exaggerated wave as he disappears.
you just knew that he was not going to drop this until you agreed to go. but he could kick and scream as much as he liked, you had absolutely zero desire to go this flimsy reunion and even less desire to see eddie in the flesh.
-
it’s another dull week of stacking shelves and managing a team of absolute morons and before you know it, it’s the day before that fucking reunion and steve is still as incessant as ever that you must go.
‘my mom can look after ella.. please just come,’ he sounded like he was a second away from getting on his knees to actually beg you to go.
you’d started to just ignore him now, getting on with whatever you were doing, choosing to give him the silent treatment. he hated that.
‘you’re so annoying,’ he scoffs, still helping you unbox the bags of chips, ‘will you just come for five minutes.. you don’t even have to talk to eddie, it’s the first time we’ll all be together again.. puh-leaseee,’ breaking into a weird sort of sing-song tone.
you exhale through your nose, visibly frustrated by the man, ‘i’m going to ban you in a minute,’ raising your eyebrows, taking the same tone you used when ella was being a brat.
‘no you won’t,’ furrowing his brows, ‘what if i promise to stand in between you the whole night? i’ll beat him with a stick if he even tries to talk to you,’ completely serious with what he just said.
you chortle, covering your mouth as one of the elderly customers walks past, slightly bewildered by the noise that just escaped your mouth, ‘couldn’t you just beat him with a stick anyway?’
‘ehh.. not really, he is paying for the whole thing,’ straightening the bags of air he’d just placed on the shelf, ‘i mean, i could if you really want me to.’
you roll your eyes, of course he was. he’d rented the fanciest restaurant just outside of town for your gaggle of pals. any chance to flaunt the fact that he’d made it out of this hell hole and left the rest of you in the dirt.
‘i have a child, steve, i can’t just go out and leave her at home.. some of us aren’t free like you are,’ turning to face him with a stern hand on your hip.
‘i just told you my mom’ll look after her.. she hasn’t seen her in so long and.. and you can stay at mine and i’ll take you to her first thing in the morning,’ his eyes are round, glimmering in the harsh overhead lights.
‘i don’t have anything to wear,’ shrugging, you really didn’t. becoming a mother isn’t quite so glamorous and a lot of clothes you’d once fit into had become a little tight.
‘when d’you finish?’
narrowing your eyes at him, ‘two..’
‘great.. okay well, i’ll take a half-day and we can go shopping.. on me,’ wiggling his eyebrows at you. the thing about steve is that he believes that most problems can be solved by throwing money at it.
he wasn’t wrong, of course.
because you reluctantly agree to go shopping with him on the condition that you weren’t definitely going to this thing. you were just going to try on dresses. that was it.
-
you get a cab to the restaurant, there was no way in hell you were doing this sober nor did you want to subject steve to being sober for your sake. palms clammy as you clamber out of the vehicle, immediately regretting your decision.
no one would care if you didn’t go, right? you could quite easily just get back into the taxi and go home without forcing yourself to endure the night.
steve’s one step ahead of you, grabbing your hand so you can’t run away. throwing him an awful glare but you weren’t really mad, just annoyed that he’d succeeded in persuading you to come.
‘c’mon.. it won’t be so bad once you’re in there,’ smoothing down his fresh shirt as he begins to walk up the winding path, dragging you along behind him.
he’s wrong. it’s so much worse inside. the place was huge, extravagantly decorated and full of people you’d once regarded as your best friends, all too busy in their own conversations to notice you and steve walk in.
it wasn’t like you hadn’t heard from them, it had just been through occasional letters and christmas cards rather than seeing them face to face. robin would call sometimes, fill you in on whatever she had been up to and beg to speak to ella who absolutely loved it. you were sure they were on the same wavelength.
you look to steve with wary eyes, digging your fingertips into his hand, ‘we could just leave right now.. no one would even know,’ tugging gently on his arm.
‘hey,’ he whispers, ‘it’s okay.. look, robin’s coming over, we’ll say hi and see how you feel,’ using his spare hand to wave at the bubbly girl, dropping your hand to give her a hug.
‘oh my god,’ she rushes, ‘how are you? you look so good.. and i don’t mean you,’ pulling away from steve to throw her arms around you, her gentle hands rubbing on your back.
‘hah, it’s nice to see you too,’ steve rolls his eyes, grabbing two of the champagne flutes being ferried around by fancy waiters.
she pulls back, ‘i didn’t think you were coming.. how are you doing? how’s ella?’ the words falling out of her mouth at super speed, it was as if her mouth moved before her brain did.
‘i wasn’t gonna but i wanted to see you guys,’ you nod, taking the glass from steve’s outstretched hand and taking a lengthy sip, ‘i’m okay.. ella’s okay.. you’ll have to come and see her before you leave.’
‘i will i will! i literally landed like two hours ago and had to rush but i’m back until friday,’ her hands flying around as she spoke, ‘come and say hello..’ her arm intertwines with yours as she leans in closer to your ear, ‘he’s staring y’know..’
your eyes roll back on their own, not even wanting to search the room for him, ‘i’m not speaking to him so he can stare all he likes,’ straightening up as you approach the group robin had left.
nancy’s talking to max about something in incredible detail but is quite to stop when you approach, mouth in a small ‘o’ as she hugs you, ‘you came? i thought we were gonna miss you,’ grinning wide when she pulls back.
you give an overdramatic sigh, ‘of course i had to come.. you’d all miss me too much,’ waving to the rest of the group.
there are a lot of small pleasantries swapped, asking about their journey’s here and how they’d been.. standard small talk. but then el asks to see a picture of ella, ecstatic that their names were so similar. you’d come prepared, pulling the creased picture out of your bag.
they all gush and coo over her, it was a picture you’d snapped from her first day of kindergarten, cheesing with her pigtails and pink hair bobbles. passing it around the gathered group, still steadily sipping on the bitter champagne.
‘who’s that?’ eddie asks, you hadn’t noticed him sidle over to the crowd, stood peering over lucas’ shoulder at the photograph.
your eyes meet his, seeing his face for the first time in what felt like centuries. he looked older, obviously, still sporting the same long curls except now it actually looked as if it’d been styled. he’s in a white shirt with the sleeves rolled up, forearms now littered with tattoos and a nice looking watch. your heart just about stops beating when you realise you’ll now have to explain exactly who that is.
‘uh.. that’s ella,’ you nod, not quite meeting his eyes, ‘..my daughter,’ taking the photo from lucas’ hand, the atmosphere had quite suddenly shifted and people begin to scatter, starting their own conversations so they don’t have to bare witness to this one.
‘oh.. oh, right.. well, congratulations then,’ the shadow of a smile on his lips, could he feel how fucking awkward this was?
‘thank you,’ giving him a half nod, startled as steve’s hand brushes the small of your back. he’d seen that you were in conversation and had left dustin to fulfil his security guard promise.
‘it’s nice that you two found each other.. you have a beautiful daughter,’ still not fully committed to smiling but he was getting there.
your face contorts, immediately looking to steve before letting out a god awful cackle, ‘oh no.. she’s not steve’s,’ covering your mouth before another taunting laugh comes out.
steve is trying to stifle his grin but fails, reaching his hand out to shake eddie’s hand, ‘ah man, no ella’s not mine but she is beautiful, isn’t she? how are you?’
you’re eternally grateful that he he’s managed to sway the conversation and you aren’t forced to explain why or how you’d had a child with jason fucking carver. turning back to robin as you hear steve ramble on about work and corroded coffin’s new album, something you had absolutely no care about.
‘shall we get another drink?’ robin asks, eyeing the open bar and your empty glass.
‘please.’
the rest of the night is going.. relatively well. it’s kinda unsettling to watch the younger kids drink legally, getting more boisterous and loud as the night progresses. it’s nice, if not a little sad just thinking about how you weren’t really able to enjoy yourself at their age because you had a newborn.
you must’ve been deep in thought as you don’t even notice eddie creep up to the empty table, standing awkwardly besides your chair, ‘can we talk?’
your eyes shoot up to meet his, baffled by his presence, ‘what could we possibly have to talk about?’
he exhales through his nose, ‘uh.. a lot? we don’t have to do it here.. i have a room upstairs or.. outside?’
‘no,’ gripping onto your glass of wine, desperately trying to grab the attention of someone behind eddie to come and save you, ‘i don’t want to speak to you.’
he’s exasperated, clutching onto his beer with strained white knuckles. how were you ever supposed to move past this when you wouldn’t even give him the opportunity to explain himself. but that was exactly it. you didn’t care about any of the silly excuses you’re sure he’d conjured up, he did what he did and that was that.
‘i’m trying here..’ sounding exasperated, ‘how ‘bout dinner? sometime this week, on me,’ his voice is deeper now, raspier. you figure as a result of constant partying and chain smoking while on tour.
‘i have a child and a job.. i don’t have time for dinner with you on top of that,’ swallowing the rest of the sweet white wine, putting the empty glass back on the table with a forceful slam.
you make brief eye contact with will who was passing behind eddie and decide to take the opportunity to pounce, standing from your chair and rushing over the second he nears your table.
‘will.. hey,’ speeding to catch him up, mouthing a small save me, clinging to his arm as you move away from eddie who was stood deflated at the table.
will thankfully catches your drift, steering you towards the bar, ‘you okay? i was just about to leave..’ placing his empty glass onto the bar with a soft sigh.
‘what? no.. if i can’t go then you’re not allowed either,’ talking sternly to the boy even though he now towered above you and just about everybody else in here.
he screws up his face, looking over to the dance floor, ‘it’s just..’ sighing once again, ‘awful, isn’t it?’ following his gaze to an intoxicated mike performing an elaborate air guitar routine in the middle of the floor.
it wasn’t exactly the same, but you could empathise with the difficult situation and that foul feeling in your stomach that you were sure he could feel too. you could imagine that it wasn’t easy to see the man you’d once, or perhaps still loved after so long. in fact, you didn’t really need to imagine at all.
deciding it was better to change the subject, distract him from the unraveling scene on the dance floor, ‘d’you smoke?’
he looks around quickly, watching out for a listening jonathan, you assume before he nods quickly, ‘but no one can know,’ a hint of a smile creeping onto his face.
you return the devilish grin before hooking your arm in his, pulling him towards the door where you could get the hell away from annoying men and their long black hair.
-
it’s gone three by the time you get back to steve’s, genuinely having to coax him from the party and into the cab you’d shared with a belligerent dustin, making sure he had got home safely.
‘i wasn’t too mean, was i?’ snuggled up in steve’s blankets, facing each other in the low light of his room.
‘nooo, no you were on fire,’ he laughs, he was still tipsy and slightly reeking of booze as he lay next to you.
‘really? you’re sure?’ he was definitely just drunk and blabbing on but you’d take it.
‘yes.. it was perfect,’ he hiccups, interrupting his sentence, ‘buuut.. and i’m not the only one who said this so don’t kill me..’ kissing the back of his teeth, ‘you’re not gonna like what i have to say.’
‘what? what is it?’ prodding his shoulder with a quick jab. knowing eddie, he’d probably gone round the party whispering some bullshit about the two of you.
‘well..’ holding his hands in the air, ‘there’s still chemistry there.. y’know i could see it,’ raising his eyebrows, hands collapsing onto the blanket.
‘right, i’m going to sleep.. you’re drunk and just saying stupid shit now,’ rolling your eyes as you settle into the soft pillow, closing your eyes so you no longer had to entertain his idiotic nonsense.
he chortles, hiccuping mid-laugh which makes a horrid choking noise, ‘i’m not that drunk.. robin said it too,’ the lamp clicks off, darkening the room, ‘and dustin..’
‘go to sleep steve,’ unamused and tired.
‘okay okay.. goodnight,’ he calls, you can hear the smile in his voice as he turns to face the other way, taking that as your opportunity to rest your head on his back, nuzzling into the soft cotton t-shirt.
-
monday is particularly awful and you’re reminded exactly why you don’t drink often. two days on and you’re still exhausted, half-heartedly filling the shelves and just trying to make it to two o’clock.
in your tired state, one of the bottles of shampoo you were putting out, falls out of your hand and rolls off somewhere down the aisle. you sigh, a deep, fed-up, exhaustive sigh and get up to go and fetch it when the bottle appears before your face, a tattooed, ring-filled hand latched onto it.
‘carver? really?’ eddie frowns, watching you from above, eyebrows furrowed together.
you place the bottle onto it’s rightful spot on the shelf and choose to ignore him. if he’d come all the way down here just to piss you off about your poor life choices then he could get fucked.
‘when’d that happen?’
blanking him again as you continue to put stuff onto the shelves. this was the easiest way to guarantee that you weren’t going to get yourself fired for being rude to him.
‘you gonna ignore me? i just wanna know,’ still poking and prodding, he clearly wasn’t very good at picking up on context clues.
nothing.
‘fuck, can you just talk to me for five minutes?’ your silence was driving him crazy, aggravating him to no end.
‘i’m at work, so no,’ hurriedly trying to finish the stock you had so you had an excuse to rush out the back and away from him.
he was fortunate that it was a quiet monday, the store full of mostly older ladies who had no idea who he was. you sorta hoped that he’d get mobbed and would have to hurry off and leave you alone.
‘why jason? out of literally everyone else in this shithole you choose jason?’ screwing his face up in disgust.
you slam the box cutter down with a loud clatter, causing a few turned heads and raised eyebrows. fuck ‘em. if you had done what you’d really wanted to do, you’d be locked up forever.
‘i don’t know if you remember this but my boyfriend of like, two years ran away and never came home so yeah.. that kinda fucked with me a little and lucky for me, jason carver was there and also hated my ex’s guts.. so it was perfect, you know?’ staring flatly at him, you were not dealing with his shit today.
eddie scoffs, ‘so you had a kid with him? and now.. what? you play happy families just to spite me? is that it?’
‘yes eddie, i had a whole child just to piss you off.’
he gawps back at you, clearly also did not possess the ability to sense sarcasm.
‘no,’ scowling at him, ‘it was an accident and now he’s.. i dunno, coaching basketball at some school in ohio or some shit.. why don’t you go and bother him?’
‘so you’re not together?’
you can only roll your eyes in response, in sheer disbelief that he’d made such a fuss because he couldn’t just outright ask if you were single.
un-fucking-believable.
you’ve had just about enough of this conversation, pulling your little trolley back towards the swing doors that lead to the warehouse. at least he wasn’t allowed in there.
‘wait! wait..’ he grabs onto the other side of the trolley, stopping you from walking off, ‘have dinner with me tonight or.. tomorrow?’ eyes big and pleading.
‘now why would i do that?’
‘because i want to explain myself.. i need to.’
one of the younger shoppers notices who he is and begins trying to talk to him, coming over to where you two stood rather excitedly. eddie is kind enough to smile and give her a few polite words, eyes still latched onto yours despite the ecstatic woman beside him.
‘okay,’ honestly just wanting to get away from all this commotion, ‘tomorrow.’
his scowl subsides, replaced by a gleaming grin, ‘six o’clock.. pino’s, i’ll sort it, okay?’ already starting to walk away from the crazy woman.
‘right,’ you nod, pulling your trolley away and into the back warehouse, leaning against the concrete wall. the whole exchange was tiring, knocking whatever tiny bit of energy out of you.
were you actually gonna go?
absolutely fucking not.
-
by the time six rolls around the next night, you really had forgotten all about it. rushing to get ella her dinner after swimming lessons, already worrying about paying for yet another field trip she’d sprung on you earlier. you’d begun to wonder if they even taught in the classrooms anymore with the amount of permission slips she brought home.
she’s finally settled into bed, after much protesting and a lot of coaxing. you’re just about to finally relax on the couch when someone hammers on your front door. and if you weren’t already pissed off with ella’s whining, you were most definitely about to be with whichever mindless prick was banging on your door.
‘what do you want?’ you hiss, jerking the door open to reveal a pathetic looking eddie on the other side, face forlorn and dejected.
he’s in that white shirt again. it makes you sick to your stomach to admit that it really does look good on him. his arms now more defined, the cotton sticking to his muscles, briefly showcasing the new tattoos underneath. maybe he’d actually got off of his ass and did something other than smoke weed all day.
‘oh so you are alive, d’you forget about something?’ he’s snarling now, having conjured up some elaborate excuse in his head as to why you hadn’t showed, only to find you at home, seemingly with no care in the world.
‘oops,’ the corners of your mouth twitching into a smile, you hadn’t even actually meant to stand him up, you were just gonna call his hotel and cancel but the thought had just completely slipped your mind.
and even if it shouldn’t, it really did feel good. knowing he was the one sat waiting for you for once.
‘oops? i sat there for an hour waiting for you and then spent the last hour trying to convince dustin to give me your fucking address.. and all you can say is oops?’
you shrug, ‘feels pretty shitty to be forgotten about, doesn’t it?’ tilting your head, watching as his face falls. he’d been got.
‘okay.. okay, i get it, and i’m sorry.. there’s not a day that goes by that i don’t feel like shit for how i treated you,’ his head dips low, looking particularly sorry for himself.
and for a second you do too. not that he deserved it. quickly having to remind yourself exactly what he had done to you, which was not at all helped by the fact that he now had everything he’d ever wanted in life.
and you couldn’t fault your life. truly. but fuck did it sting sometimes, to know that your life had stagnated, stuck in the same shitty town you’d grown up in while he was on the other side of the country, more money than sense and a hoard of doting fans that would do absolutely anything he’d ask of them.
‘good,’ you bark, going to slam the door shut only for it to bang against his black boot wedged in the door, ‘if you don’t move your foot i’ll- i’ll call the police.’
‘no you won’t,’ his hand reaches out to grab onto the other side of the handle, he could’ve easily pushed his way in if he’d really wanted, ‘let’s talk.. like adults,’ begging you now, ‘please.’
you huff, this would end with you either letting him in or being forced to wake ella after you bashed his head into the doorframe. it was easier to just accept the first option and you’d find some bullshit to get him to leave later on.
opening the door wider to let him in, keeping your eyes square on the ground as he walks through, peering around at your home. probably comparing it to his mansion in the hollywood hills the pretentious fuck.
‘nice..’ he nods, leaning in to look at the photo of you and ella a few christmas’ ago, she was tiny then, sporting a miniature santa hat.
‘yeah well, she’s asleep upstairs so.. make it quick,’ you frown, closing the door behind him, watching as his eyes take in the cluttered room, smile fading when he catches sight of the singular picture you have up of jason and ella.
‘i can’t believe you chose to fuck jason of all people.. i mean, i’ve made some shitty decisions in my life but..’ he stops himself from going any further when he sees your face, if looks could kill, he’d be long gone by now.
‘did you come here for a reason? or are you here to talk about my life decisions.. because i really don’t want to hear it from you,’ crossing your arms over your chest, wanting him out of your house.
‘no.. no, shit- i’m sorry,’ he shuffles on his feet, banging his head, ‘i wanna talk.. properly.’
you roll your hand to motion for him to continue, ‘go on..’
he inhales, chewing on the inside of his cheek, trying to psyche himself up to actually say what he wanted to say. it wasn’t that he didn’t know what to say, he just couldn’t string it together to make sense.
‘i’m sorry for the way i treated you.. it wasn’t right and i know that now,’ his hand coming to rub the back of his clammy next, why was your house so fucking hot?
‘okay.. apology accepted, was that everything?’ you say flatly, glancing up the stairs to make sure ella wasn’t awake and out of her room.
his face falls, ‘can you just.. just let me explain,’ his adam apple bobbing as he swallows, ‘why don’t you sit down..’ motioning towards your ratty couch.
you relent your stern stature, hesitantly going to sit on the couch, trying to ensure that he couldn’t possibly sit next to you by sprawling your legs out onto the empty cushion. so he takes the seat furthest away, running his hands down his tight jeans. designer, no less.. the only person you knew stupid enough to spend thousands on designer jeans just to tear holes in them.
‘when i ended things with you, i wasn’t.. well, it was me, but i had my manager screaming in my ear that it’d never work and he could hook me up with some fuckin’ model.. it’d help the band.. so that’s what i did,’ and for once, he looked genuinely remorseful, fiddling with the loose threads on his expensive jeans.
‘so you sold out? that’s your excuse?’
his head shoots up, mouth hung open with absolute disgust all over his face, ‘i am not a sell out.’
which is incredibly refutable, you’d heard a snippet of one of their recent songs on the radio at work and it had sounded exactly like the commercial shit he used to rag on when you were together. not a touch on the corroded coffin you sat and watched practice for hours on end.
‘oh? so you didn’t break up with me to further your career? you just wanted to fuck hot models? which one is it ‘cause i’m a little confused here,’ completely losing it, springing up from your slouched position.
‘okay, yeah.. yeah i did, i broke up with you because i wanted to fuckin’ make something of my life.. and look at where i am and look at-,’
‘-don’t you dare finish that sentence,’ you snap, gritting your teeth together as you near his face, positively shaking with rage.
‘what’re you gonna do? you gonna hit me? do it,’ his chin tilted to match your elevated position, eyes glued to yours.
‘i should.’
his lips twitch into a smirk, ‘you won’t.’
and before your brain has the time to really process your next movements, he balls his fist into your t-shirt, causing your chest to collide into his as his lips smash into yours, knocking the air out of your lungs.
scrambling to find his shoulders for balance, sliding one hand onto his stubbly cheek. it’s all teeth and tongues, he’s ravenous and unrelenting, letting go of his grip on your shirt to place his hands on your hips, ‘move,’ mumbling against your lips as he attempts to manoeuvre you onto his lap while twisting around.
he slides down the couch, keeping a solid hold of your body as you find the right position. your legs are either side of his waist, sliding into the gap between his body and the couch sitting right on his crotch. wasting absolutely zero time in connecting your lips against, honestly not wanting to run the risk of him opening his mouth and ruining this.
his large hands find solace on your ass, creeping up to remove the oversized shirt you’d thrown on. you place your hand above his, restricting him from moving any further. it’s not that you were embarrassed- okay, maybe you were a little. but your body had changed since becoming a mom and eddie had become accustomed to gorgeous models and perfect women that he’d certainly not want to see your boring, frumpy mom body.
he groans in protest, trying again to lift the shirt further only for your fingernails to dig into his hand, ‘no,’ speaking into the filthy kiss.
eddie pulls away from the kiss, fingers coming to gently brush the hair from your face, ‘you can’t be serious? i’ve seen it all before,’ he grumbles, fingers itching to try lift it again.
‘not like this you haven’t.. i just.. want it on, okay?’
‘no- why won’t you let me take this off?’ fingers curling around the hem, already trying his luck with getting it up again.
you sigh, meeting his blown out eyes with your glossy ones, ‘i don’t even know what i’m doing.. fuck,’ attempting to climb off of his lap while the spare hand he has on your ass clamps you down, keeping you pressed to him.
‘hey.. hey, keep it on.. i don’t care,’ already trying to chase your lips, ‘i’m just saying, you don’t need to,’ the denim covering his growing erection starting to rub against your throbbing clit, the sparse material of your pajama shorts were not leaving much to the imagination.
‘jesus christ, just take it off,’ giving up in your protest, it was useless against eddie’s persistence.
you press your lips to his the second your shirt is off, there was no time to judge your body if he couldn’t see it. pulling at his jacket to get it off, the metal buttons digging into your now bare skin.
‘i didn’t.. i didn’t mean.. what i said..’ babbling through the kiss as he shimmies out of the jacket, landing on the floor with a soft thud.
‘shut up,’ you whine, running your hand along the length of his chest until you reach the hem of his black shirt, gripping your fingers around the fabric and lifting it slightly, exposing his midriff, the soft trail of hair ascending the skin.
his head jerks backwards, allowing you to tug the shirt off, finally allowing his eyes to wander to your chest. ‘holy shit,’ he remarks like he’d never seen a pair of tits before. it’s futile for him to pretend that he hadn’t seen some amazing boobs in his time so you scoff, rolling your eyes.
working your hand at his belt buckle, fiddling with the metal until it pops undone. he’s hard already and it makes you groan, brushing your hand over the raised denim. this week seriously must’ve been difficult if he was getting hard so easily over you.
it doesn’t ever occur to you how much of a mistake this was. and even if it did, you didn’t have much time to ponder on it as his hands are grabbing at your breasts, palming them as his lips suck at your jaw and down onto your neck softly. guaranteed to leave a lovely violet mark that the old ladies at work would certainly gasp at.
he’s helping you with his jeans, one hand gripping onto your waist to keep you steady as he lifts his hips from the couch and the other hurriedly yanking them down just enough to reveal his boxers. that’s the next port of call, fingers grabbing at the thin black cotton, pulling them down his thighs as his cock springs into action.
eddie’s lips are still on your neck while you mindlessly wrap your hand around his cock, pumping your fist as you shuffle upwards. his breath hitches in his throat, still peppering sloppy kisses to the sensitive skin.
‘oh god,’ he whines into your collarbone, feeling his eyelashes flutter against your jaw. for a man who had been painted as womaniser in the media, he sure was still just as pathetic as he used to be underneath you.
you’re a little annoyed that it’s you who’s taking control right now. after so many years of disrespect from his end, you think he at least owed it to you to take charge.
your hand grabs onto his shoulder, pulling his face from your neck, ‘be quiet, okay?’ sitting taller to position yourself comfortably, the harsh fabric of the couch grazing your knees.
he nods, sliding his hand up your waist and back to your hip, taking in the sight of you. you wouldn’t ever admit it aloud, but truthfully, you really did miss him sometimes. missed the way his pretty pink lips looked after being glued to yours or the way he gazed at you doing the most mundane tasks.
you cant your hips, sinking down onto his length slowly, biting down onto your bottom lip as his cock fills you to the hilt. his eyelids flicker, fingernails digging into your doughy hips. it’s been a little while since you’d done this so you have to take a second to become accustomed to the slight stretch. it’s good, in the most masochistic way.
your hands cling onto his shoulders, watching his slack jaw, tiny breaths escaping from his mouth as you attempt to move. painstakingly slow at first, knees beginning to shake as you try to remember what you should even be doing. your cheeks flushing, feeling so incredibly embarrassed. the man was fucking models and then you’re here, pitifully trying to ride him. it’s awful, you know it’s awful.
his arm comes to snake around your waist, taking matters into his own hands and flipping the two of you around, your back suddenly pressed into the couch. holy shit. you appreciate the initiative, wrapping your legs around his waist, readjusting your grip on his shoulders.
‘need you a little faster than that darling,’ large hands digging into the couch either side of your head. you’d feel utterly mortified if you weren’t thoroughly enjoying the sight of him looming over you, his hair falling beautifully into your face.
eddie starts slow at first, moving his hips slowly, obviously well versed. your mouth opens but no noise escapes, well aware that you weren’t the only ones in your house. instead you pant softly, desperate for his lips to grace yours again.
it’s not long before he’s quickening his pace, unable to contain himself when you feel so perfect around him. ‘i missed you- fuck, i’ve missed you so much,’ he groans, keeping his voice low despite wanting to start screaming.
you don’t reply, too fucked-out to even think about words. eyes drooping as his cock nudges against the soft spongy spot no one other than him had been able to reach.
the couch creaks beneath you, the old thing unable to keep up with his rutting hips, the top of your head knocking into the arm rest every time his hips collided with yours. your living room had never bore witness to such filth and as quiet as you were trying to be, the sounds are indistinguishable.
having to bite down onto your lip when his thumb meets your clit, legs tightening around his waist with every soft circle he draws around the sensitive bud. eddie was never bad in bed but holy shit, maybe money had done something right for him.
he sits up, soft sighs falling out of his lips as his hand disconnects from your clit, sliding toward your knee and positioning your leg onto his shoulder. your nails press into his forearm, willing yourself to stay quiet even now he’s seemingly trying to kill you.
and through it all, he’s smirking. relishing the way you’re writhing around, trying not to cum when he nudges against that sweet, spongy spot this position allowed.
his thumb finds your clit again, ‘holy shit sweetheart.. you gonna cum?’ grunting softly with every thrust.
you’re positively wrecked beneath him, face pressed into the couch cushion as your stomach flips. panting into the fabric, incoherent ramblings of eddie’s name and a bunch of curse words fill the room.
‘cum for me baby.. shit,’ struggling to keep his own pace as you tighten around him, leg trembling around his neck as your orgasm takes over. pleasure overtaking your limbs as your hips buck instinctively, thankfully muffled by the couch.
‘oh my god,’ you breathe, struggling to see straight when your eyes eventually reopen, gazing up at eddie above, certain he’s about to draw blood from his teeth digging in to his lip.
‘where.. where shall i- shit,’ he squeezes out, feeling his hips begin to stutter, eyes rolling to the back of his head. he’s just about quick enough to pull out, thick ropes of cum paint your thighs. narrowly avoiding the couch.
if you had the energy to get annoyed, you would’ve snapped, but in all honesty, your brain was still reeling and anger was the last thing you felt.
eddie reaches over, ever the gentleman and grabs his shirt to clean his mess. didn’t matter to him obviously, he had more than enough money to buy another.
and there it is. the bitterness filling your body again the second he’s no longer on top of you, or inside of you rather. you attempt to bite it down.
‘you wanna talk now?’ he asks, pulling his boxers back up to a more respectable position.
‘i’m tired eddie,’ and you are, on a school night like tonight you’d have been fast asleep by now.
he sighs, shoulders slumping over. even after you’d just had the most mind-altering sex, you couldn’t speak to him. ‘please,’ pleading with you almost, desperate for one more chance.
maybe it’s the exhaustion or maybe the dopamine still pumping through your brain but you concede, pulling your shirt back over your head before motioning for him to speak.
‘i don’t have any excuses, i’m just-,’ he sighs, turning on the couch to face you fully, ‘i’m sorry for hurting you, i was wrong and i know that,’ his eyes are dipped, peering at you from underneath his spindly lashes, ‘why d’you think i’ve avoided this place for so long?’
‘i don’t know? because you’re a pussy? because you’re too scared to face me?’ letting the words rattle off your tongue without much thought.
‘because i’m embarrassed,’ he corrects, without much offence, ‘because i’m ashamed and feel like i owe you more than some dick and a shitty apology.. i just didn’t know how i could ever make it up to you,’ half-moon eyes glossy in the low light.
your heart thumps in your chest, blood echoing through your ears. eddie munson, world renowned rockstar was sat on your couch, apologising for something you should’ve forgotten about a long time ago.
the years of hatred and avoidance come tumbling down in a millisecond. all you’d ever wanted was to hear him say sorry. to admit that he’d fucked you over for a life of fame and now you had it, you weren’t exactly sure what to even do with it.
‘okay.. now what? are you gonna make it up to me? because i want to believe you eddie, i do.. but you can’t just traipse in here and expect me to forgive you like that,’ the tears roll over, sliding down your warm cheeks.
he nods, grabbing onto your hands in a last ditch gesture to show his sincerity, ‘i’m going to.. i-i want to,’ he’s still nodding, bringing his face closer to yours, ‘tell me how, i’ll do anything,’ adam’s apple bobbing with every word.
‘stay here,’ your eyes are trained on him, ignoring the blurred vision, ‘not forever, just for now,’ lips pursed, ready to be broken once more.
you half-expect him to come out with some sorry excuse, tell you he had to get back to his hotel so he couldn’t possible stay here.
but he doesn’t.
eddie takes your hand, tugging it gently and with words you don’t register, babbles something about bed. so you follow him, allowing him to guide you to your room and slide in between the sheets next to you.
everything is so gentle, soft and pure. something you hadn’t felt in a long time.
-
‘hey.. sweetheart,’ eddie’s hand gently shakes your arm, whispering into your ear, ‘you awake?’
you squint in the dim light, feeling his hand descend onto your waist, chest pressed against your back, ‘i am now,’ you grumble, it was early.. early even by ella’s standards.
‘i gotta go.. you got work today?’ he asks, making no effort to actually get up and leave your bed though.
you nod into the pillow, rubbing your sleep heavy eyes. in your sleep hazed state, you shuffle, moving backwards against him.
‘okay.. shit- don’t do that,’ strained as you shift against him, unknowingly brushing against his cock, ‘i’ll be back.. after you..’ he’s losing it a little now, ‘after you finish..’ lips pressed to your ear.
you were moving deliberately now, just ever-so-slightly rocking your hips back and forth, you could feel him growing against your ass.
‘i can’t..’ he groans, grip tightening on your hip,
‘please,’ you breathe, reaching backwards to find his mop of curls, taking a fistful for leverage as his own hip’s thrust into your backside, his low growls only spurring you on.
you had been on your own for so long now, could he really blame you?
eddie doesn’t leave for another hour, creeping out of your house with his head low and a shit eating grin plastered on his face.
-
the key turns in your door as you’re loading the dishwasher. you’d given steve a spare for emergencies but it seemed to get used for anything but.
he slinks into the kitchen where you stand with your back to him, ‘hey,’ already knowing who it was.
‘well hello,’ announcing his presence, something about his tone of voice already seemed off, he sounded short, annoyed almost, ‘how have you been?’
‘i’m good..’ you spin to face him, puzzled by his strange demeanour, ‘how are you?’
he’s holding onto something behind his back but you can’t quite catch a glimpse, ‘actually.. i’m a little pissed off,’ you can tell he’s not completely serious by the hint of a smile on his face.
‘hmm? why’s that?’
he looks around the room expectedly, ‘oh i don’t know.. you don’t have anything to tell me, do you?’ shaking his head, still gripping onto this mystery object.
‘no..’ narrowing your eyes, determining whether he knew what you thought he knew.
he did, he one hundred percent did. holy fuck. he’d figured you out already. eddie had opened his big, stupid mouth and told dustin, who would’ve told steve and god knows who else. fucking moron.
‘no? soo..’ his pulls the magazine from behind his back, flipping it to the page he’d already saved, ‘this isn’t real then?’ shoving the glossy pages into your face, ‘because to me.. this looks an awful lot like eddie.. at this very house,’ he jabs his finger at the pixelated image, ‘and this little blob here.. that’s you, no?’
you’re utterly gobsmacked. mouth hung open in pure shock. because that most definitely was eddie.. and your house.. and you. you hadn’t seen anyone with a camera, hell, you hadn’t seen anyone on the street at all.
‘and correct me if i’m wrong, but is this not our friend eddie leaving your house the next morning?’ showing the next image of him leaving your house the day after, hair unruly and messed up, holding his denim jacket in his arms as he climbs into his car.
your mouth moves but no words come out, croaking as you struggle to meet steve’s eyes. completely speechless, there was no feasible excuse. you had been caught with your pants down. literally.
‘i can explain,’ waving your hands around while steve stands smug against the kitchen counter. ‘..no i can’t,’ shoulders slumped as you blink at your best friend, no you really couldn’t. suppose you could’ve come up with some lie about a look-a-like you’d been seeing but that would’ve made you look particularly strange.
‘were you ever gonna tell me?’ he’s almost hurt that you hadn’t ran to him to tell him immediately. this was true best friend gossip and you’d kept him from it.
‘i was! steve.. i don’t even know what happened- he came over to apologise and then we were arguing and then.. then we had sex and it’s not my fault..’ you’re trying, and failing, to contain your smile, flashing your cheeky grin to your best friend in the hopes he would let this slide.
‘i can’t believe you didn’t tell me!’ jutting his bottom lip out, ‘so, you’re getting back together?’ his eyes sceptical yet sparkling with a sense of hope. you’re grateful that all he seems to care about is the fact you lied. or actually, withheld the truth as you preferred it.
‘no.. well.. no, we had dinner together yesterday and he might’ve stayed over but no..’ shaking your head, ‘he’s leaving again soon and we both know what happened last time..’ you shrug, leaning back against the counter, ‘i guess i don’t hate him now, that’s good isn’t it?’
steve looks perplexed, ‘wait wait wait.. so you’re just.. screwing around? and then he leaves again, that’s it? what’s the point?’ taking a seat at the small kitchen table, fully engrossed in the conversation.
‘i dunno.. i guess that’s it?’ you hadn’t really thought about the fact that he’d be leaving again, in fact, you hadn’t really had time to think much at all about what was happening.
you’d just sort of acknowledged that at some point he’d go back to california and you’d stay here and whatever was happening would.. end? it wasn’t as if you were going to be super upset about it like you once were. lots of people fuck their ex’s.. this was fine.
because that’s what this is, right?
just sex with an ex?
‘that’s it?’ steve reiterates, looking completely flabbergasted that the woman who once left the room whenever eddie munson’s name was mentioned was now being so casual about this.
‘yeah,’ you shrug, not wanting to make a massive deal out of it though you could always rely on steve to be over dramatic on your behalf.
‘no,’ he straightens up in the chair, ‘all of this can’t be for nothing,’ sounding utterly exasperated, ‘you two obviously belong together so why don’t you go for it? i could see you living it up out in la.. big house, big car-,’
you cut him off before he can divulge into his delusions any further, ‘i think you’re getting ahead of yourself steve,’ shaking your head at his ludicrous attitude.
you’d be lying if you said you hadn’t thought about it once or twice but it seemed silly to start imagining this crazy life together after all these years. he’d barely just made it into your good graces again, you were hardly going to run off to california with him. it was utter delusion.
‘okay okay..’ he scoffs, ‘but i still think you need to talk to him. i don’t want you getting hurt again, okay? just make sure that you’re both on the same page,’ nodding as he stands from his seat and begins to rummage through your cupboards for something to eat.
he was probably right and you knew it deep down. you weren’t keen on being the one to bring the conversation up, not after that first night. after you had sobbed in his arms in bed, letting him soothe you to sleep with a bunch of probable empty promises.
-
when eddie lets himself into your house a few hours later, steve’s eyebrows fly up his forehead but he doesn’t say a word. instead, he nods at the man, keeping his opinions to himself.
the pair of you resemble an old married couple, except you’re the grumpy old man with your wife cuddled into your side. your wife being steve that is.
‘oh.. is this uh, something that happens often?’ eddie asks, settling into the empty chair across from you. slightly miffed that steve was nestled into your side.
‘yup,’ you nod, smiling at him your chin resting on steve’s head. he hadn’t a reason to be jealous, you’d really rather poke your eyeballs out with a fork than do anything remotely sexual with steve.
‘right.. yeah okay,’ eddie says, looking perplexed but sitting back in the chair. if he was going to stick around then this would have to be something that he got used to. because you sure as hell weren’t going to stop being so close with steve for the guy that broke your heart at eighteen.
‘you want a drink?’ you ask, realising that you should probably be a good host even if it was only eddie.
‘yeah sure.’
you untangle yourself from steve and trundle off into the kitchen. steve takes this as the perfect opportunity to grill eddie on his intentions, sitting up straight and making sure that you were really gone before beginning his interrogation.
‘so.. you two?’
eddie shrugs, not wanting to get into it with steve after such a long day.
steve sighs, leaning toward eddie, ‘i’m gonna say this once.. but if you hurt her again, i will kill you,’ staring the other man down. contempt in his eyes. he was dead serious too.
‘i’m not- i’m not gonna hurt her,’ eddie sits up, praying that you’d hurry back with this damn drink.
‘i mean it eddie,’ raising his eyebrows, ‘you didn’t see how she was after you left.. i’m not going through that again, i’m not letting her go through that again.’
‘steve-,’ eddie blinks, stopping himself as you re-enter the room. hoping that you hadn’t heard their conversation, he’d only just got you to stop hating him. he wasn’t prepared to go back to that like, ever.
‘what’re you talking about?’ placing the bottle of beer in front of eddie and collapsing back into your spot on the couch.
‘football,’ steve answers quickly, groaning as he pushes himself off of the sofa, ‘i’m gonna head home, got work in the morning but i’ll see you tomorrow,’ he smiles, winking at you from above.
‘okay,’ you utter, sounding more like a question than a statement, watching carefully as he gathers his things without so much as a glance at eddie. you can only imagine what was actually said but that was truly none of your business.
you’d just grill eddie later to make sure steve hasn’t been too much of an asshole.
‘byee,’ you call out behind him, already eyeing a sheepish eddie. this’d probably be it. you’d known it was coming at some point, you just weren’t sure of when.
if steve’s sudden departure was anything to go off, you were probably right.
the door clicks shut and you turn your attention to eddie who was still sat on the solemn chair. oh god. maybe you had got a little used to having him around again and now to know that it’d all be coming to an abrupt end once again.. yeah you felt a tad shit.
‘what’d you say?’ you ask outright, it made zero sense to beat around the bush.
‘me?’ he looks almost offended, ‘i didn’t say shit.. didn’t get the chance to,’ but he’s smiling ever so slightly and your heart relaxes.
christ you were so stupid. letting him back into your life just to let him walk away a second time. perhaps you’d done something horrific in a past life to deserve this same fate twice.
‘so what did he say?’ you press, unsure of if your even wanted the answer.
eddie sighs before coming to collapse on the couch next to you, ‘it wasn’t important.. look, i wanna be honest with you,’ his hand comes to grab yours and you freeze, bracing yourself for what was inevitably going to come next. ‘you mean a lot to me and.. and i don’t want you to think that i don’t care or that i’m just leaving you again,’ his eyes are focussed on yours, full of what you hope is sincerity.
you don’t reply, instead you nod slightly and urge him to continue. this was it. the kicker. 
‘i’ve gotta go back to la next week,’ his grip tightens around your hand, ‘but i’m coming back as soon as i can, okay?’ he’s serious too and you’d like to believe him but if the past was anything to go by, you weren’t eager.
you nod silently. fuck this. once again, you were sat before eddie munson, listening to his plans to jet off to la. it felt like the cruelest case of deja-vu. if anything, you want to kick yourself for even allowing him to wiggle his way back into your heart. most people know better after the first time.
‘it’s three weeks.. maybe a month, but i’m coming back, i promise,’ he pleads, hanging his head low. he knows there’s absolutely nothing he could say to you that would make you believe him but he had to try.
you hum, frowning just a little before finally replying, ‘i’ve heard that before,’ not meaning to sound as snarky as you did, but it was true.
‘i’m serious, i’m not.. not gonna lose you again, i’ve learnt my lesson,’ his eyes are big and pleading and you’re thrown right back to being eighteen, listening to him convince you how going to la would be the best decision.
‘so.. what? you’re gonna come back to hawkins just to see me? i don’t-,’ you sigh, as much as you wanted to believe him, it just wasn’t plausible in your mind, ‘i just don’t understand, are we together or are you just coming back to fuck? you don’t have to, you know? i’ve made peace with it all and i’m fine.. you don’t have to lie to me anymore.’
if anyone was going to fuck this up, it would be you. that’s for certain.
‘what the fuck?’ he exclaims, genuinely flabbergasted, ‘this is me telling you that i’m serious about this.. about you,’ he takes your hand into his properly, scooting around to face you fully, ‘i love being here with you, and ella and there is nothing out in la worth more than this,’ you think he might just start crying, or you might. or perhaps both of you.
you sniff, not wanting to speak in fear of bursting into hysterics. it was all just so confusing and weird. you’d grown accustomed to eddie being on the other side of the country and now suddenly he was back in your life with what seemed like a a declaration of love. it was just too much to handle. and maybe you blame yourself a little, for not truly thinking about the implications of fucking your ex that had abandoned you years prior. but now it all just seemed to be hurtling in the most intense direction.
you were the one that had told him to stay after all. because really, you could’ve kicked him out, refused to ever even acknowledge him again. but you hadn’t.
‘are you telling me the truth?’ is all that you manage to squeak out. baring resemblance to a small child.
you really must’ve looked pathetic, eyes brimming with tears, bottom lip quivering as you hold in the implosion of emotions. it’s always scary being vulnerable with someone, let alone someone that once meant so much to you.
he still did. as much as you’re absolutely petrified to admit it, he’d weaselled his way back into your heart and now here you are, a mess of emotions and perplexing feelings that are too complicated to handle.
‘i promise you,’ he sighs, clearly fed up of your whining, ‘i’m coming back this time.’
and maybe you’re stupid. maybe you’re still hung up on some high school relationship that ended long ago but you can’t help it, you nod.
idiotically believing him because what else can you do after letting him into your home and your heart again.
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rxzennia · 14 days
Text
hibernation/ brumation
– tales of the voracity pathstrider
✎𓂃 winter dormancy.
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in his five years of being your boss, aventurine hasn’t ever seen you send in a request for leave. but here he is, staring at your application for a month-long vacation.
a month? isn’t that a little too long?
you didn’t even stick a little comment about where you’re going or what’s happening, dammit! he wants to know so bad, but he feels like he’ll either overstep his boundaries or come off as clingy if he asks.
he’ll approve it, of course!
he wants you to not hate your job, and part of being a good boss is letting his subordinates take the leaves they’re entitled to
and you deserve a nice, long break, anyway
but the curiosity is killing him inside. what will you be doing? will you still hang around the IPC?
he really, really wants to barge into your office and wrench an explanation out of you
and also, how dare you try to take leave right into the holidays! rude
he wanted to take you out to dinner! to fancy places! he was prepared to have a schedule full of you!
totally not dates or his attempts to spoil you
he totally isn’t thinking of doing it so that you’ll spoil him in return
he’s found out that you respond to him if he rants at you
and that you get very soft and careful with him if he presses the right buttons
he digs that so much it’s unreal
there’s something about having you, of all people, treat him tenderly
perhaps because he’s seen firsthand what kind of monster hides in your scarf
or… what kind of monster hides beneath your silent, icy exterior
it just hits different when someone like you treat him so gently
and he knows for a fact that you’ll never abuse that power you have
he absolutely loves that. 100%.
“guess who’s here!” aventurine announces as he enters your office without so much as a knock, “hard at work, my favorite secretary?”
“out, please.” you hiss, sparing him barely a glance from your computer, “i’m concentrating.”
since when did your complaints stop him
he saunters over and sits himself on your armrest anyway
your scarf lift him up and set him down on the couch opposite to you
he finds his way back to your chair
you put him on the couch again
he comes back to your armrest
is he a cat obsessed with a particular box (namely, your chair) or something
you give up
“what is it?” you relent, scooting over so he can fit onto your seat, too, albeit barely
this man does not hesitate to invade your personal space
“where are you going for a month, hmm?” he asks with a playful smile, “can’t even tell me?”
oh, so that’s what this is about
but why is he resting his face in his hand and looking at you like he’s trying to flirt?
“hibernation.” you keep typing without giving aventurine much of a reaction, “not exactly, but close. brumation.”
wait. wait, what?
it doesn’t take a genius to know that aventurine is currently flabbergasted. “you… hibernate? like sleep hibernate?” 
“no, i hibernate awake.” you mumble sarcastically, but he catches it even if your words are muffled
“c’mon, i’m just checking!” he throws his hands in the air as if protesting your attitude
“yes, i sleep, for the most part.” you scoot over a little more and lift him up, setting him down in your lap. “but i’ll be awake here and there.”
you rest your head on top of his and continues to work, effectively caging him in
he realizes you’re much more like a snake than he thought
not in an alarming way
you’re coiling around him, but, like, in a friendly danger noodle way
“will you?” he chuckles; maybe his plans aren’t entirely foiled, after all, “for how long?”
you look at him. “a few minutes up to an hour?” 
you’re only getting up for water and/or changing sleeping positions
never mind, his plans to try to spoil you is, in fact, foiled
he pouts. he had the entire thing planned out already! all five days that you’ll be off!
he looks like a kid who’s about to buy the last donut but you beat him to it and buy the donut right in front of his eyes.
“you can visit.” you say, and you see him light up almost immediately. 
though, you don't think there’s much worth visiting, but whatever makes him happy
when aventurine visits you during your well-deserved vacation, he’s pleasantly surprised. you’re sleeping so peacefully, despite the fact that you usually rarely sleep at all.
you’re curled up into half a ball under your blankets and your scarf
and letting out little snores
is this what you look like when you’re asleep? 
so adorable. if only you’d let him see it often…
but he doesn’t know the frequency of your brumation period
as far as he knows, it’s once in five years, but he has no idea if it’s more than five years
you’re not covering your face, either
aeons, he loves seeing your unobscured face
you’re so beautiful under your scarf
especially the patches of scales along your neck, they glitter in white gold under the light
he wishes you wouldn't try to cover them up
during your entire month, he’s going to be in your room whenever he’s free
he will totally try to sleep next to you at night
what? it’s not like you haven’t shared a bed before!
it’s just that you’ve never been asleep by each other's side!
you will cuddle into him if he tries to hold you
and you will get fussy if he tries to get out of the hug
if only you were as honest when you’re awake
aventurine has been trying to catch you in your small conscious windows, but he’s having not much luck with that. though, this isn’t exactly a gamble, so “luck” might not be the right word here.
he’s so busy; he’s drowning in work 
your temporary replacement isn’t very good at their job
or maybe he’s just used to the way you do things and now everything feels wrong
he wants you back already 
because nowadays he barely has an hour to spend with you apart from bedtime
he hates it
what do you mean by he can’t sit next to your sleeping form while he signs papers?
horrible, very horrible
but eventually he does catch you when you’re awake
you’re drowsy and you’re dragging your blankets and your scarf with you around your room
the cutest thing he’s ever seen in a long while
he watches as you clumsily pour yourself some water, spilling some on the table because you can’t line up the jug and the glass properly
and he watches as you sluggishly flop onto your couch after you’ve downed the water
“had enough of the bed?” he asks, sitting down next to you and brushing a few strands of hair away from your face
“hnnnnnngh,” you grumble and turn to face away from him, you just want to go back to sleep
then you remember this is your boss’s voice
and you reluctantly mumble, “it’s too warm…”
do you even know what you’re saying? you’re melting his heart
“oh, that so? it’s too hot over there?” aventurine snickers softly, his hand caressing your face, the cool fabric of his glove making you sigh in delight. “you’re so lovely.”
he recognizes the amount of trust you have in him to let him visit you when you’re sleeping, and it’s doing things to his stomach. you’re so lazy, so barely aware of your surroundings, but you trust him to be around you while you are in this state.
there is an urge, and he acts on it. he nuzzles against your cheek, rubbing your noses together and planting a small kiss on your forehead. he’s been dreaming of holding you like you’re his greatest treasure, but he’s never mustered up the courage to do it. 
maybe someday he will tell you, and then he’ll be allowed to adore you openly the way he’s always wanted to.
“my favorite snake,” he whispers to himself, feeling a shudder of affection throughout his bones, “sleep well. i’ll look forward to taking you out when you rise.”
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chlorinecake · 5 months
Note
Can you wright a Ni-ki fanfic where him and reader have a (just a regular) (or or maybe even slightly heated) make out sesh ???
“kissing, I hope they caught us” ┈ ❊ ﹒ 🌪️
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⟢ pairing 西村力 x fem!reader ⟢ contains shy and flirty kissing, wandering hands, mentions of body image ⟢ 𝟔𝟗𝟖 words 📍 now playing … 🕸️
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One day, you decided to go clothes shopping with your boyfriend Riki, trying on a few pieces for him in the mall dressing room to make sure you were on the right track. It’s not like you needed any new clothes… you simply just wanted your wardrobe to match more of what Riki wore.
“Turn around,” you told your boyfriend in a demanding yet sing-singy voice, cautiously taking off your shirt as you observed the way he buried his face in his delicate palms, “and no peeking!”
When you finally gave him the cue to uncover his eyes, he looked you up and down with a smile ghosting over his plush lips.
“What do you think?” You asked, striking a few basic poses.
He couldn’t help but blush a little at how cute you looked while checking yourself out in the mirror. You and Riki had came a long way with each other when it came to self confidence, and it delighted him to see how comfortable you’d grown with yourself in front of him.
“Can you come a little closer,” he said, motioning with his fingers as you followed like a trained kitten.
“Okay, now give me a spin…” he directed, and you did, nearly falling over as you did so, “like this?” you asked shyly.
“No, the other way, silly,” he giggled, hooking his finger into the belt hook of your jeans and pulling you into his lap, bracing you with a protective hand as you plopped onto him.
“Like this,” he smirked, gripping your waist as he looked into your eyes through feathery lashes, thoroughly enthralled by you.
Your hands almost naturally found themselves at his shoulders, your socked-feet dangling off the dressing room couch as you clung to each other like puzzle pieces.
“So the outfits a win, yes?” You asked as he caressed your waist, hips, and thighs, sending tingles up and down your spine. In moments like this, you were almost certain that Riki could make you physically melt from his touch alone.
“Hmm, let me think about it,” he whispered deeply against the skin under your ear, kissing you softly and leaving another trail of tender pecks down your neck.
“Riki~,” you hummed gently, hands running through your boyfriends hair before he shushed you with a kiss to the lips, guiding you closer towards him by your waist.
You could feel your stomach start to flutter at how passionately he kissed you, wanting the moment to continue before he abruptly pulled away from you, his plump lips and half-lidded eyes clearly telling of how intense the contact was.
“My pretty girl,” he said, hands now leaving your body to cup your face, “you know that I think you look beautiful in anything, right?”
“Anything?,” you teased, toying with the neckline of his cotton T-shirt.
“Anything,” your boyfriend continued, reaching his hand towards your ankles, “Even in these dirty pink socks,” he giggled, tickling the base of your feet.
“Riki, you crazy child, stop that!” You yelped in a similar fit of giggles, swatting his hands away before guiding them back around you, initiating a hug. You nuzzled into the crook of his neck, almost forgetting that you two were still in the changing rooms and not at home.
He guided you off of his lap, walking you towards the tall wall mirror with his hands wrapped around your waist, resting his chin on your left shoulder as you both faced your reflections.
“Where’d this sudden sense of confidence come from anyway,” you pressed, a small smile staining both your faces as you looked at the mirror, lost in each other’s beauty.
“I guess it kinda just radiated off of you,” he said, once again tugging at the belt hooks on your jeans, thinking of all the places he’d wanna take you to show off your new clothes.
You bowed your head, hiding your face at Riki’s words that nearly lit your heart ablaze, “Okay, let me change out of this so we can go to the register,” you chirped, watching as your sweet boyfriend, like a trained kitten, walked back to the corner of the dressing room and covered his eyes.
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—❊ Special thanks to the anon who requesting this quick piece !! I hope you guys found it just as cute as I did =^..^=
—❊ tagging: @microwvdstrawb3rri3s , because I know how much she loves likes Ri-ki 🤭 And to me fellow OG supporters, @squoxle, @nikisdubblchococake, @ashgonedash, and @yourmomscuntis2tighy + @watamotee33
—❊ I haven’t come up with a permanent tag list yet, so leave an ask or comment letting me know if you’d like to be tagged in all my works moving forward !!
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hughes86-43 · 2 months
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“Husband” | L.Hughes
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summary- based off the tiktok trend, you call your boyfriend “husband” and see his reaction
warnings - none, but small section about gaining weight from food! maybe a bit all over the place!
You are cleaning the counter off in the kitchen when you hear the front door open. Luke calls from down the hallway, taking his shoes off at the door, “Babe? I’m home.”
“In the kitchen!” You holler back to him.
“Okay, I’m going to take my stuff into the bedroom and then I’ll be in there in a minute.” As soon as you hear him head to your shared bedroom, you get your phone ready to set it up on the counter as now is a good time to do the prank.
You had seen earlier on TikTok this trend where you call your boyfriend “husband” to get his reaction. You thought the trend was hilarious when you saw it and you instantly had the idea to do it on Luke. The idea was is that you were going to tell him you were making a TikTok discussing your favorite foods from Trader Joe’s.
He walks into the kitchen, and quickly places a kiss to your cheek, “Hey, love. Did you go to the store today?” He moves to the refrigerator to get a water out.
“Yeah, just got some of the usual stuff,” You say as you mess with the kitchen towel on the counter, “I’m about to do a favorites video on TikTok about my favorite stuff from Trader Joe’s, do you want to be a part of it? You can just stay behind me, and if you want, give some input on the things you like.”
Knowing he could never really say no to you, he says, “Yeah, I’ll be a part of it. You bought those good chocolate muffins so I’m definitely speak my input on those since last week I ate two in a day.” You laugh at that and remember how he complained about it the whole next day saying he was definitely gaining weight and never eating them again (although he went back the next day and ate another).
“Okay, I have it all set up so I’ll start it.”
Pressing the record button after making sure you’re both in frame, you say, “Today I’m going to be going over my favorite items to get from Trader Joe’s! Starting with my husband Luke’s favorite item to get!” You look at him behind you in the camera, he’s just drinking his water with a huge smirk on his lips, but he doesn’t say anything about what you called him.
He comes up to stand beside you and says, “Husband, huh? Anyway, these chocolate muffins are really simple, but they are my favorite from there, I make sure she gets them every time. However, I will say that they get addictive and you’ll eat like two in one day, but it’s worth it!” After giving his opinion on them, he goes back to standing behind you in the frame as you continue to talk about more items.
“Now this next one my husband and I always have to have and they are the chocolate croissants! If you haven’t noticed, we love chocolate here. These take a bit to prep but they’re good,” You show the camera the box of croissants and move on to a coffee creamer, “My husband also loves this coffee creamer and I love it too, but I much prefer this brown sugar one.” Luke still hasn’t said anything about you calling him “husband”, but he just continues to drink his water with a huge grin on his face every time you say it.
Once you go through all the items, you say at the end, “Me and my husband go there pretty regularly to shop, we hope you guys like this video!” After you hit the button to stop recording, you wait on Luke to say something.
When you’re about to turn around to put the stuff up, he says, “I think I definitely got the hint that you want me to be your husband, as you said it about ten times!” He moves from leaning against the counter to go throw his water bottle away while laughing.
“I just had to make sure everyone knew that you are my husband!” You say shrugging your shoulders, trying to hold in your own laugh.
“Hmm I didn’t mind you calling me that, but we aren’t even married yet! Everybody’s going to be thinking that they missed out on our wedding or that we didn’t invite them!” He comes back around the counter to help put the groceries away with you.
“So? Let them think what they want,” You say acting like it wasn’t a big deal.
“Babe! We can’t post that, everybody is going to be so mad! Everybody will think that we don’t like them, we didn’t want them to be apart of our big day! I’ve told so many people that if I ever get married that they’d be a part of my groomsmen party…,” He continues to babble on and on about how everyone will be hurt, but you can’t help to let out your laugh that you’ve been trying to hold. “What’s so funny? Everybody’s gonna be mad at us!”
“I’m sorry! I’m sorry! It was a prank, it was just a joke,” You say trying to calm down for a second. “I saw on TikTok how you film your boyfriend’s reaction to being called husband so I had to give it a try. Although, I thought you’d be concerned about me calling you husband more than being concerned everyone will be mad at us for not telling them.”
“Well, I didn’t want anyone to think that we didn’t like them,” He says looking at you like you lost your mind since you’re still laughing. “I should’ve known it was a joke as you kept calling me it over and over.” He now starts to laugh about it.
Going over to him, you lift your arms around his neck. “What can I say, I think I executed that pretty well, don’t ya think?”
“Hmm, maybe,” he says with a wink. “Although I did really love hearing you call me your husband.” He pulls you into a hug.
Humming you smile up at him, “Did you now? Huh, I think I did too.” You pull away from him and go back to putting the groceries up.
“Sooner or later, it may come true.”
Turning your head to what he just said, you joke, “Oh really now? And I’m just gonna have to wait now?”
He turns to start walking out of the kitchen to the living room, looking over his shoulder, “Guess you’ll just have to wait and see, wife,” he says with a wink and a smirk.
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miraclewoozi · 3 months
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DO YOU DREAM OF ME? - c.hs
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the first time you kiss your soulmate, you’ll open your eyes to a world of colour. the problem? vernon hates the thought that he might pull away from you and still see in monochrome.  or, five times he wanted to plant one on you, and the one time you beat him to it. 
pairing ; vernon x gn!reader.  content ; all the tropes. 5 times fic. soulmate au. slight college au if you squint. f2l. fluff, some angst. pining. one (1) hint of suggestiveness if u squint. MINORS STILL DO NOT HAVE MY CONSENT TO INTERACT.  content notes ; mentions of reader having a(n unnamed) partner & thereafter, going through a breakup due to said partner cheating. reader is maybe implied to be shorter than him but hopefully not too obviously or frequently. alcohol is mentioned & is a key theme in scene #3. pov switch for the final part (necessary for logistical reasons.) PLEASE let me know if i've forgotten anything. w/c ; 9.6k note ; welcome to thee most self indulgent fic ever lmao. i hope u enjoy this slight break away from what i usually post here (as if my entire brand isn’t writing losers in love. ANYWAY) -- this was very fun and a little bit special for me! <3
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“What was your first kiss like?”
Initially, Vernon swears he just didn’t hear you right. It’s dark up here, where you’re hiding away from a party on the roof of his university accommodation and he’s starting to get tired. There’s some sort of siren wailing away in the distance to his left, and on the street below, a gaggle of freshmen are cackling as they walk past the building. His ear closest to you is currently listening to your favourite song. 
All the signs suggest that he simply got it wrong. 
But he doesn’t know if he believes those signs, especially not seeing as when he looks over at you, you’re staring pointedly up at the stars overhead. He doesn’t doubt that you’re giving yourself an ache in your neck in the process, too.
“Hmm?” He asks, taking out the earphone that connects him to you. The other one is still nestled away in your ear and he reaches to gently pull it away. “What was that?”
You still don’t look at him, but you do repeat yourself. Quietly. “What… was your first kiss like?”
“Oh.” 
He was right. 
“You don’t have to tell me,” you hurry to say, hugging his jacket tighter around yourself to block out the cold air that blows across the rooftop. He shrugged it off and told you to take it the very moment your teeth started chattering — almost an hour ago now. His arms are bare, shoulders and biceps only covered by a t-shirt so thin it’s practically sheer, but he isn’t cold. He’s always run hotter than most. “Sorry.”
He nudges you with his knee, silently telling you that you don’t need to apologise. He doesn’t mind — you just caught him off guard; Vernon hasn’t given this any thought in a long time, and he has to really put his mind to coming up with an answer. It was forever ago — when he was eleven or twelve, maybe, with his first ever girlfriend. They dated for a whole two and a half weeks. He doesn’t know if it really counts: the kiss was a dare, after all. 
“Kinda…” He starts, trying to follow the line of your sight, wondering if he can find the exact stars you’re looking at. “She’d just put this weird lipgloss on. It was real tingly. And like, neither of us knew what we were doing? So it… got everywhere. I think I ended up swallowing some, I don’t know. My mouth felt weird after. Thought I was having an allergic reaction.”
You laugh softly at him. “I think that would put me off for the rest of my life,” you say. 
“It almost did,” he chuckles. You hum at him and lean back on your elbows, leaving Vernon more than a little bit confused. He readjusts his hold on his knees, bringing them closer to his chest as he tilts his head down at you in your new position. 
“…why?” He asks, just as you close your eyes and take a deep inhale of the cool air. 
You just shrug. “I guess I just… wondered.”
He nods, and it’s his turn to fall short of a response, but that’s okay. You’ve known each other for too long for these silences to feel uncomfortable. He grew up with you. In fact, he’s reasonably sure he’s told you this story before. He must have done. 
Then he realises, maybe he hasn’t. Because he doesn’t know the story behind yours, and maybe that’s just a line the two of you never came to crossing. He knows he told his other friends, back then, because he was the last one in his circle to have a first kiss and he felt like it made him more grown-up, or something. Naturally, he left out the more embarrassing details. But maybe you just told your other friends who weren’t him, and went on with your life. Maybe yours was just… normal. 
Either way, he’s interested now. And there’s no time to ask like the present. 
“What was yours like?” He asks, fiddling with the strap on his wristwatch. You don’t answer straight away; he doesn’t think anything of it, because neither did he, but when he’s still waiting for you to speak a small eternity later, he prompts you again. “Hey, it can't have been worse than mine.”
You snort. 
“You’ll laugh at me,” you say, shaking your head. Vernon furrows his brows and drops his legs flat, twisting to one side to look at you. 
He doesn’t know where you’d get that idea from, but he’s… almost a bit offended by it?
“No I won’t,” he tells you softly. Maybe at first, he might’ve laughed with you, if your story happened to be as dumb as his own. But not at you. Never at. Not when he’s been the butt of the joke in too many friendship circles, for about as long as he can remember. 
You take a shallow breath, pursing your lips. “Whatever you’re thinking, it’s not…” you start to say, before you clear your throat and try again, this time heading in a different direction. “I don’t know. It’s dumb, I guess.”
“Don’t make me come down there,” Vernon threatens playfully, poking you in your side. You squirm, giggling despite yourself, despite the serenity of the sanctuary you two have found, despite the fact that you, too, were on the edge of falling asleep before your question came out of nowhere.  
He pokes you again, and again, and then starts to tickle your ribs instead. You squeal, swatting his hands away to no avail and you move to sit up, grabbing him by the forearms to physically make him stop. The grin on Vernon’s face is wide and heart-shaped. A warm feeling spreads through him: it has everything to do with the sweet sounds of your slowly dissolving laughter. 
You sit cross-legged across from each other like this for a moment or two. Your knees are touching. Your hands move down his arms until you’re holding him firmly by the wrists. Your eyes lock together: his crease with the sheer force of his boyish smile, while yours are narrowed, daring him to try and wiggle free and attack you again. 
He doesn’t, but for the first time ever, he’s struck with the urge to do something maybe more scary. 
The urge to just… lean in to you. 
It makes his heart do a backflip, in a way that it hasn’t done since he had his last crush. His head goes empty, and he forgets what he was even asking you before: the only thoughts he can muster are ones regarding what your lips taste like, whether they’re half as soft as they look, if you’d lightly touch his shoulder or his arm or his chest or his cheek—
Do you smile when you kiss?, he wonders. Do you sigh? Do you—
“I’ve never kissed anyone,” you answer, looking away now and letting go of him. He’s gone so loose in the moments since you grabbed hold of him that when you’re not supporting their weight, his arms fall like two cinder blocks onto his knees. 
True to his word, he doesn’t laugh. He’s surprised by your revelation, sure, but in no way humoured; actually, he feels a little saddened by it, for a reason he can’t put his finger to. He ends up not saying anything, just biting the inside of his cheek; he wants to ask why, but knows maybe that’s a bit of a dick move, and if it’s something you’re sensitive about he doesn’t want to risk hurting you.
But he’s watched people fawn over you for years, and he doesn’t think you’ve ever been short of attention from those who have thought you were attractive. So it can’t be that you’ve been lacking in chances? Surely?
“I thought… maybe I should save it,” you go on to explain. Your hands keep busy by playing with a thread at the cuff of his jacket sleeve, wrapping it around one finger until the skin beneath it pinches before you unravel it again. 
“Save it?” He asks. You nod your head.
“For when I thought I’d found them.” You pause, swallowing hard. “Like I said, it’s s—.”
“No it’s not,” Vernon says abruptly, shaking his head. He holds onto you now, one hand slipping around your back until it rests on the shoulder furthest away from him. You scoff. He squeezes you into his side. “Hey. It’s not stupid.”
He doesn’t like how this admission has, somehow, made his desire to kiss you stronger. He hates that he feels even more drawn to you, a magnet finally finding its opposing pole. It freaks him out a little. He’s never wanted to kiss anyone this badly. 
Red button theory, he tells himself to try and get back on the straight and narrow. If you hadn’t said anything, none of this would be happening.
“It’s romantic,” he says finally, swiping his thumb in small motions over the top of your shoulder. You nod, mumbling a ‘thank you’ (for what, he isn’t sure), and shiver. Vernon doesn’t know if that’s because of his proximity to you or because you’re finally starting to feel the cold. Either way, he takes the initiative to stand up and holds a hand out for you to take so he can tug you to your feet too. You get up with a little hop. 
It’s… devastatingly cute.
“Where are we going?” You ask, brushing off your jeans before shoving your hands into the jacket’s pockets. He’s already on the retreat, walking backwards towards the door that took you up here.
“To get food,” he tells you, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “That party was dead, anyway.”
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It doesn’t cross his mind again until your twenty-first birthday. 
He’s not your soulmate. He couldn’t be. The thought he had on the roof that autumnal night was little more than a passing fantasy; besides, he doesn’t have a thing for you. He doesn’t want to kiss you, or date you, or have you be his soulmate. The reason you work so well together is because you’re just friends; he thinks you’d drive each other crazy if things ever went romantic between you. You bicker with him for sport. He drowns away hours at a time with his headphones clamped over his ears and forgets to answer your texts. It would be a nightmare. 
Not that he’s ever thought about all that. Not actively, or even passively. Not when he should be listening to college lectures instead, for example. Not awake, nor in his dreams. He hasn’t. Not once. 
He swears. 
“You can save it ‘til tomorrow, if you want.”
Vernon bounces his leg nervously, fidgeting with the edge of your comforter as you sit on the floor in front of him, styling your hair for your party. He arrived half an hour ago while you were still waltzing around in your bathrobe, holding a small, neatly wrapped box in both of his hands. It’s several degrees too warm in your bedroom. He feels a bead of sweat roll down his back as you grumble what seems to be a threat at a strand that won’t cooperate. Thankfully, you don’t seem to notice his discomfort. (If you do, he’s grateful that you don’t say anything.)
“But it’s my birthday today,” you pouted, taking the box from him. “Let me finish getting ready, then I’ll open it. Come on.”
His wrist still aches with the pressure you held onto him with as you dragged him up the stairs. Your parents are away for the weekend and the house is all yours, so there’s a speaker blasting your favourite playlist full volume on your nightstand and there’s nobody to tell you to turn it down. He flits his attention between his phone and watching you, but he can’t fully concentrate on either; he’s too nervous that maybe you won’t like his gift, and he’s never been the type to splash out on birthday presents before but this… well, it burned a hole in his wallet, that’s for sure. 
“Okay. Wait here,” you tell him as you push up off the floor, limping on the leg that had started to fall asleep thanks to the way you were sitting. 
“All right,” he says back. As if he’d go anywhere, anyway. 
You grab a hanger from inside your closet and scurry off down the hall to the bathroom. For the first time, Vernon feels like he can actually breathe. He drops his phone onto the comforter between his crossed legs and cradles his head in his hands, telling himself that he needs to get it together. You’ve never not liked anything he’s given you, and you’ve known him now for more birthdays than you haven’t. 
Your friends said you’d love it. So did your mother, with a sparkle in her eye as she held it delicately in her fingers. He has nothing to worry about. It’s only you.
And yet—
“You’ll be honest if it looks bad?” You call from the other side of the door, interrupting how his lips move wordlessly in an endless mantra of self-reassurances. 
Vernon snaps his head up and he clears his throat, rubbing the heels of his hands into his eye sockets. “Aren’t I always?” He answers.
You click your tongue, evidently disagreeing, but you pull the handle and take a step into the room anyway. When you see him, he looks exactly as he did when you left, no trace of his anxieties anywhere to be seen on his face or otherwise. 
When he sees you, he feels like the world could end any moment and he’d be okay with that. 
His mouth runs dry and his eyes seem to be stuck open, unblinking, fixated on you in your all black outfit as you stand still as a statue with your hands behind your back. You cough quietly, waiting for some kind of a response other than a dumb stare, but it doesn’t come. 
Eight seconds later… still nothing. 
“Do you hate it?” you fret, because Vernon is a very good hype-man and you’ve never known him struggle to find something positive to say. “All right, uh— okay—”
“No!” He rushes, almost shouting in his urgency to assure you that that’s not the case at all. He scrambles up to his feet, taking a breath, and pushes a hand through his hair. He’s been growing it out lately, and he kind of hates how his fingers catch on a tangle even though he brushed it meticulously before he left his apartment. You keep telling him it looks good, though, so he hasn’t been to get it cut. “God, no. I’m sorry. You look amazing.”
It doesn’t sound like much to the untrained ear, but the warmth of his compliments comes less in the words he says and more in the sincerity he says them with. Your face softens, and Vernon can see the way the thoughts of changing into something else fizzle out behind your eyes. He takes a backwards step to try and tempt you further into your own bedroom, and you move in tandem with him, closing that space and coming better into the light. 
“Wow,” he says, swallowing hard and looking you up and down. “I-… wow.”
It’s your turn to clam up, now. You look down at the floor, kicking at the carpet with your toes. “Shut up,” you say. “I’m not...”
“Yes, you are,” he protests, leaving no room for argument as he crosses his arms over his chest. “I don’t know who you’re trying to impress but… yeah, it’s gonna work.”
You walk past him with a scoff, barging against his shoulder on your way; he dramatically staggers to the side, rubbing at the impact site, laughing. When he faces you again, you’ve picked the gift up from the end of your bed and are moving to sit on the mattress yourself. Your eyes flicker between Vernon and the empty space in front of you. He takes the hint, settling back down with one foot tucked beneath him, the other still planted on your rug. 
His heart shoots back up into his throat and he stares down at the box, licking over his lips and frowning at how dry they feel. He glances away, lifting a hand to his mouth, running his fingertips over his lips. What would they feel like pressed against yours? He thinks, and then he cringes again. 
You misread his reaction and hesitate with your finger pressed underneath a strip of tape, tilting your head at him. “What’s going to jump out at me when I open this?” 
“Nothing,” he says, rolling his eyes at you. “What do you take me for?”
“The kind of guy who puts glitter in birthday cards because he thinks it’s funny,” you retort, earning a click of his tongue. 
“That was one time!”
“One time too many.”
“I swear,” he laughs, tight shoulders easing, both hands falling to his lap. “No sparkles, no loud noises, nothing jumpy. Cross my heart.“
You eye him a little suspiciously but eventually tug your finger beneath the wrapping and make the first rip in the paper, allowing you to tear into the gift after keeping Vernon on edge for almost an hour and a half. You peel it away and it falls to the bedsheets, in your hands now a small, square box not too dissimilar a shade to your comforter. You look from it, to him, and he thinks you notice how his cheeks are a little darker than they were before. 
He nods at you once and you slowly pull it open. On a plush, velvety bedding sits an elegant, dainty bracelet. A small gemstone is set in the metal of the bar in the middle of the chain. You skim a thumb over it, your breath held.
“Vernon,” you murmur, tearing your eyes away from the bracelet to look at him. Now, even the tips of his ears have grown flushed, but you’re kind enough not to comment on it to avoid spoiling the moment you’re in. “This is…”
“The lady in the store said it was your birthstone,” he says, twiddling his thumbs. “I mean… I’m really just taking her word for it, ‘cause they all look the same to me, but—”
He’s interrupted as all of your weight topples against him, arms thrown around his neck in a hug. He hesitates a moment before he wraps his own around your waist, drops his head to your shoulder and he smiles wider than he thinks he ever has. “Happy Birthday,” he says, dragging his thumb up and down over your hip. 
“Silly,” you scold him playfully, still pressing wholly against him and showing no signs of moving. Your voice sounds thick, a little like you’re tearing up, so Vernon squeezes you tighter. 
“I know you are,” he chuckles. “But what am I?”
You swallow hard, finally now pulling away from the hug but sitting entirely too close for comfort, one knee pressing into the outside of his thigh. 
Your surprise attack has left him dishevelled. With a quiet apology, your fingers innocently try to smooth everything back into place, but Vernon doesn’t hear you say you’re sorry. His pulse, thundering in his ears, drowns it out while also skipping a beat with each little touch. You’re not looking into his eyes as you shyly put him back to rights, too busy working to tame his — at the best of times — unruly hair. 
He’s looking into yours though, and he can’t stop. 
Your eyes, which dart all over to find strands out of place, so your hands can move them to where they ought to sit and lay them down flat. Your eyes, that drop down the length of his throat as you realign the neck of his t-shirt over his broad shoulders. 
Your eyes: the ones crinkled at the corners as you pick the bracelet back up from your bed and admire it under your bedroom light. Your eyes, landing on his, finally, in a silent plea for help. 
“The best?” you answer, now, extending your wrist to ask him to put it on you. He takes the chain from your fingers and unclasps it, slipping it beneath your hand and holding it in place. 
“I know you are,” he says again, but it’s quieter now as he concentrates on trying to reconnect the two pieces. “But what am I?”
When he successfully fastens your gift onto your arm, he looks up to see your watery eyes still staring down at it. He decides this is the time to reveal part two of the surprise. Pulling up the sleeve of his t-shirt, he reveals his own wrist to you, and you now see there’s a matching chain hanging off it. A little stone set in the metal. His stone, presumably. You choke out a laugh around your tears, shaking your head. 
“You got us friendship bracelets,” you giggle, holding your hand next to his and admiring them together. Your skin touches and he feels butterflies erupt in his stomach, which he hasn’t felt around you since…
He nods, breathing a chuckle too. “Yeah,” he says. His heart is pounding. “I guess I did. Is… that okay?”
“I love them,” you insist, leaning forward to affectionately press your lips to his cheek. “Thank you. It’s perfect.”
Your doorbell sounds downstairs and Vernon’s words die in his throat. Maybe that’s for the best, though; he’s got so much nervous energy rising up inside him and he’s scared it might accidentally force up something he’ll regret saying. You spring off the bed again, fussing in the mirror, and he watches you rush out the bedroom warbling about how you’re not ready for anyone to be here yet. It’s too early. What’s going on? Who is it?
He shifts his legs so both his feet are planted on the floor, letting out a breath he doesn’t remember sucking in. 
I love them. Thank you, you said. 
It’s perfect. 
He groans when he stands up, too, tugging his sleeve back down as he starts to follow after you.
“I know you are,” he mumbles under his breath, hearing your relieved laughter at it just being the FedEx man on your doorstep. It makes him feel warm. Everywhere. “But what am I?”
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Five hours later, Vernon is seeing double. 
He has Seungkwan’s hands massaging the tops of his shoulders and there are two Juns sitting across from him at your dining table. He remembers feeling fine around 9pm, distinctly: like nothing he drank was having any kind of effect on him. Like he could walk home on his hands — like he was invincible. Now, after spending exactly five minutes out in the fresh air, he’s blinking four times for every breath he takes and his friends’ voices keep phasing in and out of focus.
“But what if they’re not?” Vernon stresses for the eighth time, fingers clumsily peeling at the label on his bottle.
“And what if they are?” Jun tries. Again. Also, for the eighth time, because apparently when Vernon gets tipsy, his skull gets really really thick and nothing in the world can penetrate it. “You’ll never know if you don’t try.”
Vernon shakes his head, sitting back so heavily that his chair tips and he sends Seungkwan stumbling into the wall behind them. His friend gives up trying to rub the stupid out of him and settles into the chair at Vernon’s side instead. 
“I don’t know-…”
“If you’re about to say you don’t know what you’ll do if it isn’t them, I’m putting you in an Uber and sending you home.” Seungkwan claps his hand down onto Vernon’s knee for good measure. “It’s not even been a day.”
Vernon groans, threading his fingers into his hair and tipping his head back. “It hasn’t, though,” he whines. “What if it’s been like this since… and I just kept ignoring…”
Jun and Seungkwan exchange a look. An exhausted one. They both know Vernon turns into a complete baby when he’s had a drink and can just about manage a trip to the bathroom without somebody holding his hand, but neither of them have seen him like this before. Neither of them want to see him like this ever again.
Hell, neither of them want to be dealing with him like this right now.
“You’ll never know if you don’t try,” Jun’s (remarkably) calm voice repeats as he pushes up from his seat and glances towards the doorway. His ears lock onto a voice just beyond it, and in an instant, the older man recognises his chance at an exit. He casts an apologetic glance at Seungkwan, who has resorted to rubbing Vernon’s earlobes to try and get him to stop stressing, and he dips out before either of them can argue. 
On his way, though, he throws in a sly little remark. One that raises Vernon’s– and Seungkwan’s– blood pressure to a level that would get them prescribed a week of strict bed rest.
“Besides – everyone can see the two of you were practically made for each other.”
Vernon whips around to face Seungkwan with shock written into every line of his face. It paints perfect full-signal WiFi creases on his forehead; it makes his jaw hang loose. 
“I– what?” Vernon splutters, shooting a hand to the back of his head. Seungkwan hasn’t taken his eyes off the doorway since Jun slipped through it. Vernon doesn’t notice the fact that his older friend’s full genetic line is currently being cursed out. “What does he mean?”
“You don’t have to do anything tonight,” Seungkwan tries, now acutely aware of the fact that Jun has just given Vernon a nudge he should never have. There’s a fine line between bolstering a friend and straight-up causing chaos. This could get messy. Seungkwan doesn’t like messy.
But… It's too late. 
Before Seungkwan can wrangle him back into his seat, Vernon has broken away from the table and is on the hunt for you. Seungkwan follows behind, doing his best to summon Vernon back, but he can’t. He’s on a mission now. And maybe that mission involves giving in to the thing that eats away at his brain when he should be waist-deep in music theory assignments. Maybe that mission is to finally, after two years, know what it feels like to kiss you. He’s going to find you, so help him God. He has to. 
And yes. He does. He finds you, eventually. As soon as he reaches the top of the staircase, there you are. 
Being pressed into the wood of your bedroom door, wrapped up in the arms of some pretentious looking art student in an oversized button-down and baggy, ripped jeans. Your mouth is covered by theirs, your fingers are threaded through those glossy fucking locks, both of you are laughing breathlessly as you drop one hand and it fumbles blindly to reach for the doorknob. 
Vernon spins away, turning his back as he hears the door click. At this exact moment, Seungkwan comes stumbling up the stairs too and plants his forehead into Vernon’s sternum. 
But his good friend’s skull is not the only thing Vernon is struck with, not the only thing knocking the wind out of him. 
Simultaneously, he’s swept up with the sobering realisations that either this guy is your soulmate, or you’re not the same person you were when you were nineteen. 
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It’s eleven o’clock and two years later when he hears your secret knock on his apartment door. 
Maybe it’s luck. Maybe it’s fate. He only took his noise cancelling headphones off a few minutes ago before he washed up and settled into bed; his head has hardly even had time to make a dent in the pillows. But whichever force is at play, the thing that matters is that he hears you and he knows it’s you, straight away. He doesn’t remember how it started, exactly. He thinks it might have been while he was in his exam-season hermit stage in his first year of university and refused to come to the door unless it was something important. 
You’ve been knocking the same way for years now though, and he slides out of bed with creased brows at how desperate your fist sounds as it pounds against the wood. He pulls on an old t-shirt and perhaps the loosest fitting pair of shorts anyone’s ever owned, at least making himself decent before he answers. He’s still tying the drawstring when he gets to the door.
When he looks through the peep-hole to make sure he’s right, you’re drying your eyes on the back of your sweatshirt sleeve. You’re shivering quite violently, and you’ve got a bag on your shoulder that’s weighing you down on one side. Vernon’s heart sinks. He unbolts the door, pulling it open just as you lift your hand to knock again; your knuckles punch the air between you as your eyes land on him, and your bottom lip wobbles in despair. 
You fall into his chest with a sob. Tears start to soak their way through his shirt until it clings to the skin underneath. 
“Hey,” he soothes you, locking his arms so tight around you that there’s a strong chance they’re the only thing holding you upright. 
“I didn’t— know where else to go—” you choke out, your arm trapped between your chest and his as he rests his head on top of yours and pats your back softly. “I’m s-”
“Don’t you dare,” he murmurs, tilting his chin down to press a soft kiss to the top of your head. “It’s okay. I’m here. You can always come to me.”
He holds you until your shakes start to subside, trying to talk you through whatever this is with soft reassurances and gentle shushing sounds. When you pull back from him, Vernon guides you into his apartment, flicking on the lamp in his living room so he can see to settle you down on his couch. He throws a blanket over your legs before he sits down himself, pulling your hand into his lap and holding it between both of his own, his thumb moving absently over your knuckles. You’re still crying, but when you shuffle against the seat to be a little more comfortable and finally turn to face him, he finds his voice long enough to ask you what happened. 
“He kissed— kissed someone else,” you tell him, sniffling and shaking your head. 
His blood reaches boiling point in what must be record time and he knows he accidentally starts to grip your hand tighter, but he can’t stop. 
“He what?”
Vernon knows this guy wasn’t your soulmate. You told him, a few days after your birthday. You said everything was still black and white when you pulled back from the first of — what you spared no detail in explaining was — many, many, many kisses with him that evening. But you didn’t care. Not then, and not for the whole time you’ve been together. 
He asked you about it once. About four months in (when he figured things were starting to get serious), late at night, if it bothered you. Whether you were going to keep seeing him. If you still thought about finding your soulmate. He doesn’t think he’ll ever forget what your replying message said. 
I mean, sure, I’m curious. But maybe I don’t need to see in colour. I think being in love is enough :)
So… you were in love. 
With someone who wasn’t him. 
He didn’t speak to anyone — not even you — for two whole days after that. He felt like he’d gone ten rounds with a peak-form George Foreman. He felt like he’d never be able to get rid of the pit that had developed in the depths of his gut. He couldn’t sleep, he could barely eat, he couldn’t focus: it was the worst he’d ever felt.  And, well… Vernon knew it was immature. He knew he was acting like a child. If he could’ve shaken it off, the way he’s always done with so many of the things in his life that have bothered him, he’d have loved to. But he couldn’t.
Besides. Only about four people noticed his silence, anyway. You weren’t one of them; your boyfriend was keeping you plenty busy.
“He went to a club and got completely wasted and he— he—” you say, squeezing his hand even tighter than he’s holding yours. “But-… he says he-…” Hiccup. “Everything. Straight away — his…”
You don’t need to say it out loud; if anything, he’s a little disgusted with himself that he didn’t figure this out sooner. “His soulmate,” Vernon ruefully finishes for you. He groans the words out, feeling rotten to his core. “I’m so sorry…”
Your shoulders start to shake and he wastes no time in pulling you sideways against him, both his arms locked around you again, just like before. 
“It’s so stupid,” you cry, laughing emptily. His stomach turns; he hates this. Your anguish is an assault on his eardrums, especially when he’s got you so close, but he tries so hard not to flinch, not to move away. You need him, no matter how agonised it makes him feel. “I knew he wasn’t mine, but I thought-…”
Your voice fades away to nothing. You shake your head.
“You thought he was happy the same way you were,” he finishes again. You just nod, sobbing harder. “That's not—… stop saying the way you feel is stupid.”
Vernon doesn’t understand how that loser could ever not have been happy with you. How could he dream about going out in search of something more? Hell, Vernon doesn’t think there’s a soul alive better than you — how could anyone stand to just throw you away?
He wonders briefly if you can hear his heartbeat, thundering in his chest with the rage he feels all the way into his bones. You’ve always told him that you admire how chilled out, how collected he is, but Vernon has never felt less calm in his entire life. It’s only as he acknowledges that he has no right to feel like this, that he takes a few deep breaths in an attempt to bring his fever down. You mimic him, trying to do the same, and by the time his pulse starts to settle, you’re back to just sniffling against his shoulder. 
“Stay the night here,” he tells you. It isn’t a suggestion, or really even a request. It’s an order. There’s no room for negotiation. “We’ll go get your things in the morning. I’ll be right there with you.”
You open your mouth to speak, but Vernon gets there before you do. Before you can protest the offers he’s made. Before you can ask him if he’s sure. He knows you, a little too well: he knows these are the words that are going to come out of your mouth next. “I’m with you, okay? Always.”
You sit back from him with a quiet chuckle, wiping your eyes again on your damp sleeve. “I don’t know what I ever did to deserve you,” you murmur. “You’re the best— the best thing that ever happened to me.”
He just rolls his eyes at you and shakes his head, standing up from the couch. (I know you are, he thinks. This isn’t the time for jokes, though.) He wishes you knew what you mean to him; how, in his eyes, you deserve the world, presented to you on a shining silver platter. Wishes you knew that he’d give it to you if thought he could carry it. 
“Go wash up,” he says, ignoring the ache in his chest at the way your watery lashes flutter when you look up at him. “I’ll find you something to sleep in.”
He locates a spare toothbrush from a travelling kit he’s never used and sets a t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants on the heated towel rail, leaving you alone in the bathroom to go about your business. You emerge some fifteen minutes later to find Vernon perched on the edge of his bed, scrolling through an app on his phone. He can’t help but swallow at the way his clothes fit you. How the steam from your shower clings to your skin, casts a heavenly haze around you. He hopes it isn’t obvious. This is about more than his dumb little crush. 
“Were you asleep?” You ask him, nodding towards his comforter, still pushed back on one side. He turns to glance over his shoulder, following the line of your sight, before he looks back at you and shakes his head. 
“Not even close,” he says. “I’d just got into bed when you got here.”
You worry your bottom lip between your teeth and nod. Vernon doesn't think you look totally convinced, but he can’t force you to believe him, even if it is the truth. 
It’s unspoken but accepted that you'll sleep in the bed with him; he’s never let you stay on his couch when you spend the night, and you never agree to displacing him even though he always tries to insist he doesn’t mind. You’ve been friends for enough time now that it’ll never be weird to crawl beneath the sheets with him, anyway. At first, he didn’t really like sharing (he’s a bit… particular with how he sleeps, after all), but he got used to your weight on the mattress beside him quite quickly and makes a point to say he always sleeps better with you. 
He hasn’t curled up next to you for the night in over two years. It’s awful, that that’s what he thinks about now as he turns off the lights and you settle down, shuffling under the comforter until he slides in next to you in the dark and you can lay your head on his chest. He knows it’s selfish. He thinks it probably makes him a bad person, too. 
“Do you think—” you start to say, cut off by a long, vocal yawn. Your breath feels so warm through his t-shirt. “If you fall out of love with them… do the colours go away?”
With his eyes wide open, staring at the ceiling he can’t even see, Vernon feels his heart shatter beneath the soft cushion of your cheek. He’s suddenly grateful he’s still fully clothed, as if the cotton barrier is the only thing stopping you from getting scratched by the splinters beneath his skin. He wonders if you hear it. It would be an easier explanation for why he doesn’t say anything than whatever his mouth could come up with, that’s for sure. 
“I don’t know,” he says after a few seconds too long. The arm wrapped around your shoulders slips down to your waist and he squeezes you. Briefly, he wonders if it can force your broken pieces back together. 
Vernon knows he would never do this to you. He’d never hurt you this way. Out of everyone he’s ever met, he thinks you’re the sweetest, the kindest, the most thoughtful of them all. The last person he’d ever wish a heartbreak upon. He even used to joke that he’d go to war with anyone who dared to try. 
But now he’s seeing it happen? He feels as if he really could. 
“I just hope you never have to find out,” he follows up, blinking back the thoughts that start to bubble away as your breaths slow down. 
He wrapped a band-aid around your finger when you got a papercut once and you asked him, then, if he would kiss it better. 
When you bumped your head in the playground, the same. 
He’d kiss it all better now too, if he could. He’d show you how you deserve to be loved. 
And he doesn’t just think it, anymore; Vernon knows that this makes him a terrible person. 
“I hope you don’t, either,” you mumble back. “... and I hope we find them soon.”
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He’s so proud of you.
Okay, it never took much. He’s been proud of you for every good grade you’ve ever achieved, every doctor's appointment you booked for yourself, every trip to the dentist you stressed over. He’s been proud of you for finishing projects you were struggling with. Proud of you for learning new recipes. For every milestone, personal or professional, it’s the first thing he makes sure to say. 
[ hey, look at u go!!! proud of u :) ]
Now? He’s seen you crawl from rock bottom to the top of the world. It hasn’t been easy. There have been hurdles and barriers and sometimes, sixty foot high walls you’ve had to climb up and over, but you’ve done it. You’re thriving. Every time he looks at you, these days, if you’re not wearing a smile there are at least traces of one in your eyes, on your face, in your voice. Happiness suits you, and he’s so, so proud of you for getting here. 
He knows you’re doing better, because between Christmas and New Year, you asked him if he wanted to come to a party with you. At first, he wasn’t sure; the holidays left his wallet feeling a little light and he’s been on a really good streak of not drinking anything lately, but when you promised that you’d stay sober too, he kind of couldn’t say no. 
[ i just wanna see in the new year with my favourite person ever <3 ]
[ ha. flattery will get u everywhere ]
So here he finds himself, out in the backyard of somebody he’s never met, a can of Coke in one hand and your gloved fingers holding tightly onto the other. You dragged him outside at five minutes to midnight and — though he doesn’t know why — you decided you didn’t want to let go. Vernon certainly wasn’t going to be the one to make you. Your warmth down his left side is settling the slight unease he’s felt all evening while also making him feel tipsier than he’s ever been under the influence of any amount of soju; he thinks maybe this should scare him, but he’s just… so glad he came.
With sixty seconds until the clock strikes twelve, somebody stands up on top of the picnic table in the yard and starts to try and coordinate a countdown. With forty-five, Vernon squeezes your hand, butterflies where his stomach ought to be. With thirty, he takes a long drain of his drink, finishing it as if it’ll give him some courage, maybe, or… he doesn’t know. Zero sugar, zero caffeine — there’s no logic behind his process, just a lot of bubbles and artificially sweetened syrup. All the same, he crushes the can against his thigh and slips it into his pocket to throw away later. That alone relieves a bit of his adrenaline. 
Not enough, but some. 
With ten seconds remaining, the first shout drowns out the white noise in his ears, the chaos of his thoughts. 10. He joins them. So do you. 9. 8. Your voice is the loudest, the most excited sounding. You want this year to be over. You want the rest of your life to begin. 
7. 6. 5.
The crackers are set. Flames dance at the end of the garden on fire lighters, ready to send rockets shooting into the sky. 
Some people here are going to see them as they truly are. Brilliant and vibrant and colourful against the black canvas of the midnight sky. Vernon won’t. Neither will you. But what was it you said to him once?
4. 3.
Maybe I don’t need to see in colour. 
2.
For the first time, he thinks he agrees. The feeling of loving you, even if he never knows green from red, blue from orange? He doesn’t care. He has you. He loves you. That’s enough. 
1.
Happy New Year. 
As if dawn has broken early, the world becomes impossibly bright, pyrotechnics bursting not only over your own heads but everywhere, as far as his eyes can see. After the first few, he permits himself a glance over at your face: there are tears running down it, and his heart stutters, but then he hears you laugh. Brightly, wetly, more resonant than any of the booms and crackles and cheers he can feel all the way down to his toes. 
For whatever reason, Vernon starts laughing with you. 
You pull him closer into a bone-crushing hug and blink your damp lashes against the side of his neck. “Thank you for being here with me,” you say to him, practically shouting to be heard. “I love you so much.”
“I’m always gonna be with you,” he says as you pull back a little. Your arms are still around him. The chain of the bracelet he bought you all those years ago is bitterly cold against the back of his neck. He can’t feel his fingers anymore, all he knows is that they’re resting on the curve of your spine. He thinks he can see something in the way you look at him, so softly and tenderly and yet, in the twitch of your brow… 
Like you’re searching for something that might not be there. 
He knows his gaze moves in a perfect triangle — from your left eye, to your slightly parted, wind-chapped lips, to your right. He knows he stops breathing. He swears you do, too. Something builds — a spark catches, an energy festers, egged on by the curious murmurs of the people around you. 
You could do it, his brain tells him. 
So what if he’s a few minutes late for it to be traditional? Does it really matter? 
But he’s reminded, again, this time with a whizz and a boom and a crackle, that you aren’t his to have this way. His storybook moment fizzles out, the final firework bursting into sparkles overhead. He sees every one of your perfect features brighten in wonder as you tilt your head back to look up at it. Sees it beautifully reflected in your glassy eyes. He has about enough time to commit the image to memory before you clear your throat and finally step away from him, losing all touch for the first time since you came outside. 
One of your friends comes and pulls you into an embrace, before passing you along to someone else, and then someone else again. He loses you in the crowd that rushes to get back in the warm, but he makes no effort to move with them. He just stays out in the dark for a while with his own thoughts for company, shoving his frigid hands into the pockets of his jeans.
He’s happy, though. It’s like you said. 
Being in love is enough.
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“There’s just one more thing,” you say as the waitress returns with your bank card and a receipt. Vernon slides you a look as he stands, picking up his jacket from the back of the chair he’s been sitting in. 
He shakes his head at you. “Whatever it is, it better not be edible,” he laughs. “I think this is the most full I’ve ever been.”
In other words, you’ve done enough already. Stop spending money on me. Please. Thankfully, your final surprise is in-keeping with his unspoken rule. 
His birthday rolled around way too quickly. The start of the year has been so chaotically busy; you swear, you’ve hardly seen him since he dropped you off home after the party. You moved out of your parents’ house for the second time a few weeks ago and settling in, unpacking boxes, sorting through clothes and belongings and trinkets has taken you much longer than you care to admit. You’ve been busy at work, too. So has he. Your social calendars have barely lined up at all. 
But you were determined to make plenty of time for him on his birthday. 
To Vernon, this has always just been another day. He’s never cared too much about big celebrations: as long as he can spend some time with people he cares about, he’s happy, and this year he’s managed exactly that. He saw his family this morning, had some friends drop by his apartment later in the day, and now, he’s with you. 
You’ve never been great at the laid-back approach, though. Not with him. How could you be, when he does so much for you, always without even batting an eye? When he deserves to be doted on, and adored, and thoroughly spoiled? It’s the same every year. You make a fuss, he playfully scolds you for it; you and he are creatures of habit. It’ll probably never change. 
This year, you invited him to your new place to open the gifts you’d bought him: the new speaker he kept saying he couldn’t justify buying, a record he looked at in the store a few months ago but never bought, a sweatshirt to replace the one you stole off him on New Years Eve. Some candies he likes. Then, after he finally stopped pouting and sighing that you really didn’t need to go to all this effort, you took him out for dinner, making a reservation for two at his favourite restaurant. 
The pouting continued. 
Only up until your appetisers came out, though. The moment your food was placed down in front of you, his eyes doubled in size and his lips became a little too busy to stay pursed. Your own dinner almost went cold with how fondly you sat and watched him. This year, you even spared Vernon the embarrassment of having the restaurant staff sing at the side of your table. 
All right, you have an ulterior motive, but… it’s the thought that counts, right? 
He holds the door open for you now as you thank the waitress who served you one last time and without him lowering his arm, you step into place beneath it. Tucked up into Vernon’s side, you’re as happy as you’ve ever been. Nervous, too, but… you have a good feeling. 
“Where to?” He asks as you fall into step together. 
“This way.”
You emerge from the shelter of the canopy outside the restaurant’s front door and immediately feel the cool tickle of a snowflake landing on your cheek. They started to fall while you were eating and Vernon couldn’t stop watching through the window, small specks that grew over the hour into big clumps that tumbled towards the ground. He’s always loved the snow, and there’s no real destination for this gift, anyway. You guide him to the left and watch as peace takes its rightful home on his beautiful features. 
“We’ve walked in a perfect square three times now,” Vernon says after a little while of meandering about in the dark, making comfortable small talk and laughing as the champagne bubbles in your stomachs continue to fizz away. “Where are we supposed to be going?”
You wondered how long it was going to take him to notice, or even if he was going to realise at all. Looking up and down the street you’re on, you stop in your tracks, standing beneath the same flickering street lamp that you’ve passed twice already. Your footprints trail both behind and in front of you, neither quite covered yet by the snowfall. You break into a laugh when you notice that the convenience store on your left has closed since the last time you came down this road. 
“I can get a map open, if…” Vernon starts, reaching into his pocket. You stop him, stepping out from under his arm and wrapping your hand around his wrist instead.
“I might’ve told a little white lie,” you confess, 
He halts with his phone only half pulled out, pushing it into his hip for fear of it falling if either of you let go. “What do you mean?” He asks. 
You know he’s probably thinking back to your earlier conversations, trying to figure out which part exactly is the mistruth you’re now admitting to. But whether he gets there on his own or not, he waits for you to answer. 
“I had it with me this whole time,” you explain, readjusting your hold on his covered forearm. His eyes dart downwards, looking at the site of contact, but he quickly lifts them back up to your face. “I was just… waiting for… ”
“What are you talking about?” Vernon asks. 
“Close your eyes.”
You know.
Unfortunately for your best friend, as hush-hush as he’s managed to be all this time, the same can’t be said for the other person he entrusts all his secrets to. A few weeks ago, when you’d called Seungkwan to coordinate timings for Vernon’s birthday plans, he’d accidentally let something slip. It was your suggestion of taking Vernon to dinner that did the trick. 
“Oh, he’s going to love that,” Seungkwan had gushed. You could hear the breadth of his smile down the phone and felt yourself growing hot at the compliment.
“You really think so?”
“Pfft. You could take him to the Eiffel Tower or to a drive-through KFC, and he’d still have hearts in his eyes – because it’s you.”
Of course, he attempted to do some damage control immediately after. Make out that he meant it in strictly platonic terms. But once the idea planted itself in your head, it sort of… made sense. You mulled it over for a couple of days but when you finally asked Seungkwan, deathly serious, if he really thought you stood a chance with Vernon?
He practically screamed ‘yes’ down the phone. 
“The last time you asked me to do this, you killed me at laser-tag,” Vernon says, narrowing his eyes. He surely doesn’t think you’re hiding a plastic gun underneath the coat he literally just watched you don, but he doesn’t do as you ask and you suck your front teeth at him.
“Luckily for you, I left all my weapons at home,” you counter. “Come on, please. Just… trust me.”
“Said that last time, too,” he snickers. But, to his merit, he finally does it. He takes in a breath and follows your instruction. “I swear to God…”
Selfishly, you take a moment to bask in how handsome he really is. His eyes twitch underneath his lids and snowflakes cling to his lashes, moving with them. It’s in his hair, too. On his shoulders. Melting on his cheeks, leaving small wet spots on his face. One lands perfectly on the tip of his nose. You would immortalise this moment, if you could.
It made sense, when you found out, because thinking back? Nobody has ever loved you how Vernon does. He shows it in so many ways – he sends you the songs that he hears and thinks you’ll like, the pretty photographs that he takes when he’s away for work, some variant of a ‘good morning’ text, almost every day. He massages your shoulders, lets you fall asleep on his lap, follows you around like an obedient puppy when you have errands to run just so you don’t have to do them on your own. 
He tries, and often fails, to cook you breakfast when you stay over. He brings you coffees, or lunch. He looks at you like you’re the moon and the stars. People have teased for years that you could be psychically connected. That you were cosmically united. That it was fate for Vernon to move into the house down the street from you when you were nine. To be the only other child your age on the block. 
Two people, perfect for one another, lives intertwined eternally by fate. Or, in other words…
“Are you…?” He asks, breaking the quiet that has only been filled with your cloud-forming breaths. 
“Give me a second,” you breathe. There’s no doubt in your mind.
One. 
You lean forward to kiss him softly, free hand settling against the side of his neck. In the February chill, Vernon freezes, no part of his body reacting to you except for his lips. Though they twitch in a gasp, they press back against yours as if he isn’t even thinking about doing it. As if it’s instinctual. As if he was always supposed to kiss you – as if he’s your…
There it all is, when you finally pull away.
Brown eyes, framed by fluttering lashes that untangle from one another to finally see you, too. Brown, you know, because when you asked your mother to tell you about Vernon’s colours when you were younger, that was the only one she told you, saying everything else might change when he got older. Warm, brown eyes. Glistening with every blink, blink, blink of the bulb above you. Pupils slowly dilating, drowning the colours out of view. You see his lids shoot wide as he realises, as he glances left and right, as he takes this new world in for the first time, too. 
“I knew it,” you say on a stuttered breath, so overwhelmed you could cry. “My soulmate.”
A brilliant smile threatens to split Vernon’s features in two as he cups your cheeks and pulls you back to him, kissing you again, and again, and again. 
“I know you are,” he says against your lips, his bare thumbs pink and cold as they press into your skin. And, before you can kiss him quiet – “but what ‘m I?”
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thank u so much for reading, i really hope you enjoyed this. as always, your likes/reblogs/comments and feedback are always deeply appreciated.<3
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harunayuuka2060 · 5 days
Text
Vil: Did you manage to resolve the issue?
MC: Yes. It was a bit difficult at first, but the client listened in the end. 
Vil: …
Vil: You shouldn't have disclosed that you used to work as a concierge. 
Vil: Now everyone is bothering you. 
MC: *smiles* That's better than doing nothing. 
MC: I'm not here for relaxation anyway. 
Vil: …
Vil: Anyway, I received news from Dad. A director, who is a friend of his, needs a stand in. 
Vil: And he wants to hire you for this.  
MC: Huh? 
Vil: What do you think?
MC: …
MC: Is physical appearance a requirement? 
Vil: He didn't specify. Although he might need you for doing action stunts. 
MC: …
MC: Alright. 
Vil: Hm. Great. We'll be meeting him this afternoon to discuss it. 
MC: Okay. 
The casting director: *after seeing MC for the first time* Oh my seven… 
MC: …
The casting director: Their face, their eyes, their built… *turns to look at Vil’s dad* Oh, Eric! Where did you find such a fine specimen?!
Eric: *chuckles* They're a friend of Vil. 
The casting director: *turns to MC again* Do you have any experience in acting?
MC: …
MC: Yes. But it was a long time ago. 
The casting director: Oh? How come I've never seen you in any movie? 
Vil: They usually played as a double at that time, especially for action scenes.
The casting director: A double? With this gorgeous face? 
Eric, MC, and Vil: …
The casting director: Oh sweetheart, you are straight out of a fairy tale! 
MC: Um…
The casting director: Everyone! We found our protagonist! 
The staff: *cheers* 
MC: …
MC: *smiles* We might've some misunderstanding—
The casting director: Thank you so much, Eric, for bringing me this one! 
Eric: *chuckles* You're welcome. 
Vil: …
Vil: Dad. 
Eric: Er, I didn't know she was looking for someone to be a protagonist. 
Vil: …
Vil: *has managed to convince the casting director to do a screen test first before deciding on MC* 
The casting director: MC, don't be nervous. Okay?
MC: *nods*
The actress: Good luck. *smiles kindly at them* 
MC: *smiles back* Thank you. 
The casting director: Okay! Let's roll the camera! 
Vil: …
The casting director: Action! 
MC: *looks at the actress with a gentle gaze* *then subtly smiles* 
Vil: …
The actress: …
The actress: *ends up blushing* 
The casting director: Cut! Cut! That is perfect! 
Vil: …
The actress: I-I’m sorry. 
MC: *feeling slightly embarrassed* It’s alright.
Vil: …
Vil: Looks like you'll be doing separate work now. 
MC: Yes. But I won't still be neglecting my duties here. 
Vil: …
Vil: Have you told the news to Che’nya?
MC: Yes. *smiles* He was really happy about it. 
Vil: …
Vil: I haven't congratulated you yet. Let's have a toast?
MC: It's already late and you have an appointment tomorrow. 
Vil: You're right. 
Vil: Let's do it tomorrow then. 
MC: *smiles*
MC: Why are you still awake, Che’nya?
Che’nya: I wasn't able to call you all day, nya~. 
MC: Yeah, I'm sorry. Something unexpected happened. 
Che’nya: That you got scouted for a movie and received the protagonist role?
MC: …
MC: How did you know?
Che’nya: Nyaha~ The actress you practiced with is Neige’s co-star before! 
MC: I see. 
Che’nya: Congratulations nya~. 
MC: *smiles* Thank you. 
Che’nya: When will the taping start?
MC: In the next couple of weeks. 
Che’nya: Hmm… Does that mean you have to stay there longer?
MC: Hm. Yes. 
Che’nya: …
Che’nya: Nya love~ 
MC: Hm?
Che’nya: I miss you nya~! 
MC: *chuckles* I miss you too. 
Che’nya: *squeals* So sweet~! Bye-bye~! *ends the call* 
MC: *smiles* 
Neige: How did it go?
Che’nya: Nya love has no idea we're here! 
*Both of them has arrived to the airport* 
Neige: Oh Che’nya, I told you to inform MC. 
Che’nya: Nope! I'm surprising my spouse! :3
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