#the thing is the thing is the things is when i first had my big twin fantasy phase in high school i really thought that i felt some of these

[reiderwriter]

Hi, so I have a request, but please don't feel pressured to write it now.

I was wondering if you could please do a scene or scenario where Spencer shouts out in desperation and panic "where's my wife" after a close call with the team on a very dangerous case.

A/N: I put a bit of a twist on your request so I hope you still enjoy it! Thank you for requesting~♡

Warnings: minor injury to canon characters, explosion, temporary loss of hearing, sight, etc.

The force of the blow was so strong that when Spencer Reid finally came to, a few seconds after hitting the ground hard, he couldn't hear a thing. 

Whether it was adrenaline, or an injury, or pure shock, his senses were numb, and the only thought in his head as he started screaming was of you. 

“Wh-where,” he coughed, shaking his head to try and focus. “Where's my wife?” 

His voice was quiet and weak at first, but it didn't matter to him. After all, he couldn't hear the words at all. He just felt his lips form the words and knew the familiar vibrations in his throat meant the sound was escaping into the wind. 

You pushed through crowds with a scream as you tried to get through to your team. Spencer wasn't the only one close to the blast. 

Emily, JJ, Morgan, and Hotch were all in various states of disarray around you as you ran back from the car across the street. You'd run back to check some files, feeling something off, and the heat and loud boom behind you was the confirmation you'd been looking for that you were right. 

After his first few attempts, Reid still couldn't see you, much less hear you or touch you or press his arms around you and not let go. He struggled to his feet and began calling again. 

“Where's my wife? Where is… WHERE'S MY WIFE?” His voice broke, and he  coughed gasped through each word, but he didn't stop. 

He stumbled forward, looking to see you through the haze of dust that had erupted from the blast site. Morgan ran to his side just as he tripped, pulling an arm under his as they stumbled together away from the rubble. 

“Where is she? She was right here, I need-” he coughed, leaning more on Morgan than he was walking for himself as his ankles twisted under him. 

“Hey, hey kid, we're okay. We need to get away from the blast, okay? Away.” 

Spencer kept rambling, though, his ears ringing as he blinked away his confusion and the panic creeped in stronger. 

“My wife, where is she? Morgan, I have to find her, she could be hurt,” he demanded, his voice stronger now as he pushed out of Morgan's grip. 

Ambulances and police cars were beginning to pull up, half of them already having been on route when your team had pulled up. 

Spencer searched through the crowd, sorting through faces until he found the one he desperately needed to see. 

Emily and JJ had been thrown back towards the cars, but both seemed to have missed big shrapnel and other injuries. He watched them clutch each other and stumble behind the cars as they called into their phones, requesting backup. 

Hotch was similarly talking fast to surrounding officers, and though he looked fine, he clutched his knee in his hand. The already dark material of his pants was somehow darker, and shinier in places, and it was only a moment later that Spencer realized a large chunk of shrapnel was jutting out of his leg, just above the knee. 

Rossi had been the furthest from the blast, bar you, and it was him that Spencer saw next, dusting off his clothes as he moved quickly to assess the scene. 

Morgan was still worriedly trailing behind him as he tripped over his feet. 

“Where's my wife? Where's my wife?” 

He finally saw you then, as you dove into the dust and smoke to assist your team. He was just about to fall to his knees when you ran to him, holding him up under his arms as he wrapped himself around you. 

“Found you. I found you, you're okay?” He asked, hands gently cradling your cheeks as he asked, tears in his eyes. 

“I'm fine, Spencer. Are you-” 

He silenced you with his lips, mouth slanting down on yours as he pushed every fear, every emotion, every ounce of adrenaline into your body. He kissed you like you'd never been kissed before, with desperation and longing and relief. 

And when he pulled away, he collapsed into your arms. 

Luckily, Morgan had been only steps away and took some of his weight off you as you stood, gasping for air and reeling from the kiss. 

You were so dazed, you collapsed to the floor, your knees giving in beneath you, and both Spencer and Morgan came down with you. The three of you were weak and traumatized, and emotions were running high, which is why you tried not to be offended by Morgan's line of questioning. 

“How long have you two been married?” He asked, and you were suddenly taken further aback. 

“What?” 

“Reid was looking for his wife. He was shouting ‘where's my wife? I need to find her.’ He was desperate. He was pushing away from me, and then he saw you, and he relaxed.” Despite the blow of the explosion and the now whirl of shrill sirens surrounding them, Morgan laid every word out carefully, like you would blow just as easily given the chance. 

“I'm not… we're not…Morgan, we're not even dating. I don't know what that was but…” 

Your hands carefully stroked Spencer's hair, gently smoothing it out of his eyes as you searched for answers in the man's unconscious form. 

You didn't stop until the paramedics arrived four minutes later, sitting unblinking as they hooked him up to an oxygen tank and carted him off to the nearest hospital. 

XXX 

The second time Spencer Reid awoke, it was dark outside, and the lights were low. But you were at his bedside, sleeping with your head by his legs, and your breathing was steady. So he let his eyes close again, not registering any of the pain the day had inflicted, and let himself sleep beside you. 

XXX

The third time Spencer Reid awoke, you were gone. He wasn't alone, though. Rossi sat upright in a chair beside the window of his hospital room, reading from what looked to be a case file. 

“Spencer, glad to see you returned to the land of the living,” Rossi said, noticing the younger man's movement and walking to his side. He pressed a button, and a doctor raced in, closing the door gently behind him. 

“Where is she? Where is-” 

“Spencer, it's okay. Everyone's okay. The doctor needs to run through some questions with you to check if you're feeling okay. Do your best to answer, okay, genius?” 

Spencer nodded, ignoring the small ache in his head, so similar to the headaches he'd been plagued with in earlier years. 

The doctor ran through standard questions, checked his blood pressure, checked his reactions, and made sure physically he was fine before moving on to more probing issues. 

“Doctor Reid, I'm going to ask you some simple questions about yourself now to assess for any neurological damage.” 

Reid nodded, regretting it instantly, but wanting to get out of the hospital as fast as possible to see you.  

“How old are you, Doctor Reid?” 

“Thirty, I'll be thirty-one this fall.” The doctor nodded and continued. 

“Where did you grow up?” 

“Las Vegas, Nevada. My mom still lives there. She's a patient at Bennington Sanitarium.” 

The doctor nodded and continued. 

“Are you married, Doctor Reid?” 

“Yes, my-” Spencer had to cut himself off as he processed the question fully. Was he married? No. He didn't remember any wedding. He had no romantic arrangement with anyone at this point in time. So why was he saying yes? 

Your face flashed into his head, and he grabbed his chest as his heart ached. It wasn't your face as he usually saw it, but that dazed and shocked expression you'd worn after he'd kissed you. 

He blanched and reclined slightly, suddenly needing all the pillows on the bed for more support as he realized the weight of his mistake. 

“Doctor Reid? Doctor Reid, did you understand the question?”

“What? Oh, no. No, I'm…I'm not married, I guess.” 

Rossi and the doctor shared a look before the doctor took his leave, promising to check in on you again in a few hours. 

The concerned look from Rossi as his bedside was almost too much to take. 

“Stop looking at me like that, Rossi,” he said, grumbling to himself, suddenly upset at the end of his delusions. 

“Like what? I'm not allowed to look at you now?” 

“You're not allowed to pity me. Where's everyone else? They're okay?” 

Rossi took a seat next to him and sighed.

“Hotch is in surgery - non-critical. They just want to be sure the shrapnel that landed in his leg didn't strike anywhere near a nerve or an artery. Morgan survived with a few bruises and scrapes that make him look even more like an action movie hero. He's coordinating with local law enforcement to catch out bomber.” 

Reid nodded along to each revelation, but his patience was growing thin. Rossi was watching him squirm. Reid, waiting for your name to pop up in conversation so he could talk about you, think about you with a valid excuse. 

“Emily and JJ are back at the motels, Penelope met them there to help them out. Emily's left arm is broken, and she has a nasty cut on her face, JJ twisted an ankle and sprained it pretty bad, so she'll be sitting for a while. I, myself, survived with pleasantly few cuts, a boon given my advancing years-” 

“Y/N, what about Y/N?” Reid finally burst, looking pathetically down at Rossi from his hospital bed. 

“Eager, aren't we?” 

“I need to know she's okay, and that... that she doesn't hate me.” 

“You can find those answers out yourself, kid. My shift is almost over.” 

Rossi stood and grabbed his cup of coffee, saluting Reid as he strolled out of the door. 

Reid was confused until the door opened again thirty seconds later, and you rushed in, breathing heavily as you took in his appearance, checking for damage. 

“Y/N,” he said, sitting up again. “Listen, I'm so, so sorry for kissing you yesterday. My mind must've been jumbled after the explosion and- and I thought you were actually my wife, and we were married-” 

You closed the distance between you quickly, grabbing his cheeks like he had grabbed tours only a day before and planting your lips back on top of his again. 

You kissed him the way you'd been kissed once before. With desperation, and longing, and relief. And when you pulled back, there were tears in your eyes that you didn't let fall, as you pressed yourself into Spencer Reid's arms. 

“Don't. Don't scare me like that again. I thought we'd lost you, I thought you'd kissed me and then - and then died!” You ranted, your arms gesturing wildly, every few seconds pausing to rake a hand through your hair. 

“You're not angry?” 

“Yes. Yes, I am angry, Spencer. You got hurt again, I'm seething.” 

“At me. You're not angry at me for kissing you?” He asked, smiling up as you goofily, a little bit worse for wear, but still shining nonetheless. 

“Oh. No. I was confused, but I'm not angry.” 

“Good,” he said, nodding, the two of you falling into an awkward, tense silence. You picked at dust on his shoulder as he stared at you, neither of you bold enough to say another word until the tension was palpable and Spencer Reid burst open. 

“Can I kiss you again?” 

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #mgg #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fandom #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid criminal minds #dr spencer reid #spencer reid x reader fluff #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n

[woso-dreamzzz]

Allergies II

Hardersson x Daughter!Reader

Natalia Guijarro (OC) x Hardersson!Reader

Part of The Big Adeventures Universe

Summary: You have another allergic reaction

In all honesty, you didn't really think it was that serious.

Nutrition meetings at Barcelona were a lot more in depth than what you were used to at Arsenal. They took ages and were full of information that would probably be interesting if you actually cared but, alas, nutrition had never been as interesting to you as other subjects so you tended to just zone out.

You were handed a new smoothie with some kind of new protein powder in or something you would have known if you actually listened.

You drank it.

That's when things start to get weird.

The nutritionist continues to drone on and you frown, scratching at your neck.

You stare down at your bottle for a moment as your throat goes all scratchy and intense.

You force yourself to swallow before glancing around.

Your throat gets a bit tighter.

No one else seems to be having such a reaction so you unscrew the top of your bottle to peer inside. You sniff the mixture before standing up.

You can feel people watch as you make your way over to the first aid kit at the front of the room. Your throat has fully closed up now and you know that you're turning alarmingly red and probably breaking out in hives.

Honestly, you feel a little bit shocked how you're even conscious right now but you grab your epipen and stab it into your leg.

"Banana," You say plainly," I can't eat that."

Even with the adrenaline now pumping through your system, you slide your way down the wall to sit on the floor, breathing in deeply.

The room erupts into chaos the moment you sit down.

The medical staff come in to check your blood pressure and your throat and the expiration date of your epipen. The nutritionist leading the session is going absolutely ballistic yelling at one of her assistants for not checking the allergy sheets before making and handing out the smoothies.

Talia looks close to tears as she forces her way towards you, practically shoving some of the medics away. "Are you okay? Is it bad? Do I need to call your mums?"

"No! Don't call my-"

Talia's already gone out into the hall, phone pressed up against her ear.

You wonder which one of your mothers she has in her contacts.

Surely not Morsa because she's still in that stage where she's pretending to hate your girlfriend but you can't remember your Momma and Talia interacting enough to have swapped numbers and you know for certain that you weren't one to hand out people's numbers without explicit permission.

As the medics fuss and the nutritionist yells, the team also gather around to check that you're alright but you just give them a gallant shrug.

"I'm fine," You say," The epipen did its work."

"I think I'd prefer if you take the day off," The head of the medical team says," Just to be safe. You can come back tomorrow."

You know better than to argue with him so you just nod with a little sigh of annoyance.

"I can take her home," Talia says as she re-enters the room," I've got her."

"I can take a taxi home," You insist.

You and Talia drive in together so only one car is used. If you go home in that car now then she'll have to get a taxi in the middle of rush hour.

"I'll take you home," Talia says," Coach can spare me at training today. Someone's got to make sure you actually follow medical advice."

You roll your eyes. "I swear you've been hanging out with my Momma behind my back." You take the hand she offers to help you stand. "You sound just like her."

You end up back home fairly quickly, curled up on the sofa and practically forced to take a nap.

Prins joins you, curled up in the bend of your knee. Reina settles on the top of the sofa behind your head, completely stretched out and at ease with herself while Kung manages to wiggle himself between your arms to nap there.

You don't know how long you nap for but it must be a while because the sun is setting when you wake up and you can smell Talia cooking up your favourite pasta dish in the world.

You sit up.

You've definitely been sleeping for a while because Reina has migrated to her cat tree, poking her head out of the cave to watch Kung bounce around the floor in outrage at not being allowed up there with her.

Prins has taken Kung's place between your arms and his tongue rolls out of his mouth in a semblance of a dopey smile when he notices you awake, his tail beginning to wag happily.

"Hi, little man," You say, gently scratching between his ears," Did you keep me company?"

Prins' tail wags even more fiercely than before.

"Didn't want to leave your side."

You jolt, shrieking and Prins whines a little.

"Morsa! What are you doing here?!"

"Talia called your Momma," Morsa says, tucking the blanket more firmly around your body," Your allergies acted up."

"I dealt with it," You insist," You didn't have to fly out."

"Yes, we did," Morsa replies," Because if we waited for you to tell us, it would take weeks!"

You puff out your cheeks. "I wouldn't want to worry you over something so silly."

"Are you calling your allergies silly again?" Momma says. She enters with two plates worth of food and you sit up.

Prins leaps down to wander over to his own dog bed. Seeing him lying there, Kung wanders over, jumping up onto Prins' back to finish napping there as Reina ducks her head back into her cave.

"No, Momma," You mumble, accepting your food as Morsa takes a seat on the armchair and Momma to the left of you, leaving an empty space for Talia, who also brings out food for herself and Morsa before taking her own seat.

"Are you feeling better, mi vida?" She asks," You look better."

You nod. "I feel fine. My leg aches a little but that's expected."

"We'll put an icepack on it once we've finished eating. Prins was very worried about you."

Prins raises his head at the mention of his name, tail wagging.

"He's good boy."

Morsa grins from across the room. "I knew getting you a dog was a good idea."

Momma scoffs. "You told me that we should have gotten her a fish."

Morsa coughs to clear her throat and mumbles," Don't lie, Pernille."

"You wanted to get me a fish?" You laugh in disbelief," And you say Rocky is the most disappointing pet in the world."

"Are you really saying your pet rock is more exciting than a fish?"

"Am I?" You pretend to think for a moment. "Yes. Yes, I am."

#woso x reader #hardersson x reader #pernille harder x reader #pernille harder #magdalena eriksson x reader #magdalena eriksson #woso community #woso imagine #woso fanfics #woso #the big adventures universe

[hotvintagepoll]

Propaganda

Greta Garbo (Camille, Anna Karenina, Queen Christina)—Enigmatic and alluring and made me bisexual. The perfect example of the eroticism in silent films that literally transcends text. Could literally not change anything about her expression but you knew by looking at her eyes what she was thinking. She’s so gorgeous.

Audrey Hepburn (My Fair Lady, Sabrina, Roman Holiday)—Growing up, Audrey Hepburn desperately wanting to be a professional ballerina, but she was starved during WWII and couldn't pursue her dream due to the effects of malnourishment. After she was cast in Roman Holiday, she skyrocketed to fame, and appeared in classics like My Fair Lady and Breakfast at Tiffany's. She's gorgeous, and mixes humor and class in all of her performances. After the majority of her acting career came to close, she became a UNICEF ambassador.

This is round 5 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]

Garbo:

A cold-ass Swedish WLW Sphinx. Had plans to murder Hitler that she never got around to. "She will remain always a child of vikings, moved about by a snowy dream."

First of all, she's on the money; that's how much of a treasure she is. She's beautiful in such a distinct way you need very few lines to draw her. (Drawing by Einar Nerman) She managed to be mesmerizing in both silent and sound films. She kissed a woman in Queen Christina (and probably several more in real life). She was super dry and really funny in Ninotchka. She got the hell out of Hollywood and stayed out, living for almost 50 years after her retirement.

Garbo is one of the many reasons why I'm gay. If you haven't seen Queen Christina please do, She is so gender in that film. Also her accent makes it sound like she's always talking in cursive and it's so hypnotic (or at least I think so).

She's a gay introvert, like all of us here on Tumblr.

Probably a lesbian, absolutely a mood when she retired

Mysterious and aloof, charismatic and enigmatic, with beautiful androgynous characteristics, Garbo is undoubtedly the most eccentric and unique Hollywood vintage star. Her aversion to fame and stardom makes her even more desirable to the audience, and her insane chemistry with the camera, an actress one of a kind! Her particularity and her oddity is what discerns her strongly from her hollywood co workers at the time, noone was like her and would never be like her. I think, to the utmost extent, that she deserves the title of the hottest vintage star, even though that would be an understatement of what she is!

SO gorgeous, her thick Swedish accent makes will turn your brain into pudding

Audrey Hepburn:

"She may be a wispy, thin little thing, but when you see that girl, you know you're really in the presence of something. In that league there's only ever been Garbo, and the other Hepburn, and maybe Bergman. It's a rare quality, but boy, do you know when you've found it." - Billy Wilder

Raised money for the resistance in nazi occupied Hungary. Became a humanitarian after retiring. Two very sexy things to do!

where to begin......... i wont her so bad. i literally dont know what to say.

My dude. The big doe eyes, the cheekbones, the voice. The flawless way she carried herself. She was never in a movie where she wasn't drop dead gorgeous. Oh, also the fact she raised funds against the Nazis doing BALLET and she won the Presidential Medal of Freedom for her humanitarian work.

"It’s as if she dropped out of the sky into the ’50s, half wood-nymph, half princess, and then disappeared in her golden coach, wearing her glass slippers and leaving no footprints." - Molly Haskell

"All I want for Christmas is to make another movie with Audrey Hepburn." - Cary Grant

I know people nowadays are probably sick of seeing her with all the beauty and fashion merch around that depicts her and/or Marilyn Monroe but she is considered a classic Hollywood beauty for a reason. Ironically in her day she was more of the alternative beauty when compared to many of her contemporaries. She always came off with such elegance and grace, and she was so charming. Apparently she was a delight to work with considering how many of her co-stars had wonderful things to say about her. Outside of her beauty and acting ability she was immensely kind. She helped raise funds for the Dutch resistance during WWII by putting on underground dance performances as well as volunteering at hospitals and other small things to help the resistance. During her Hollywood career and later years she worked with UNICEF a lot. Just an all around beautiful person both inside and out.

No one could wear clothes in this era like she could. She was every major designer's favorite star and as such her films are time capsules of high fashion at the time. But beyond that, she had such an elegance in her screen presence that belied a broad range of ability. From a naive princess, to a confused widow, to a loving and mischievous daughter, she could play it all.

Look at that woman's neck. Don't you want to bite it?

#audrey hepburn #greta garbo #hotvintagepoll #fuck that old woman #ladies 5 #Youtube

[heartfullofleeches]

Can Gigi split themselves to make a clone? Imagine loser reader wishing for a threesome and Gigi just makes a second Gigi.

While they may not be the same exact species of slime alien as Slime Reader, who's to say Gigi can't divide himself too- Loser Reader seems like the type to be hesitant about taking anything up their ass because it feels too submissive for them, but my brain is mushy over the thought of one Gi taking them from behind while the other sucks them off. Slime boy gets the "milk" he so desires by milking Reader's prostate-

-

"Best four out of six?"

"No way! You lost fair and square. At least you're the one who gets to taste their love-"

"Yeahhhh, but this is the first time they've ever let us do this. I think it's their first time doing this...ever actually. It's almost romantic, don't cha think? Just one more go?"

Laying on your back, you watch as the two slime commence yet another round of rock, paper, scissors over who gets to take you first. It's been roughly ten minutes of this shit. At this point you're too horny to care who fucks you. You're painfully aware the two will start complaining if you try to touch yourself without them. Turning over on your side, you shove your boxers down past your knees - burying your face in the pillows as you pitifully mutter.

"Why don't you both fuck me at same time..."

The slides had full control over their own bodies. Surely they wouldn't make themselves too big for you to handle with this being your first time doing something like this- A squeal of excitement sounds from both creatures as they cozy up beside you on the bed - one kissing at your jaw as the other feels up your chest.

"That's a great idea, love!"

"We promise we won't be too hard on you this time-"

"All we really want is to leave you too tired in the morning for that brunch date with that girl you met at the coffee shop. Why are you so obsessed with having one human girlfriend when you can have the two of us?"

"You're so mean to us sometimes.... Don't worry, we'll fuck that need for them right out of you- It's okay if you're still the desperate perv you've always been - so long as your desires rely on us alone."

(Should I make this a full thing? Loser Reader getting dicked down by a bunch of slime boys sounds good to me)

#Gigi my oc #yandere x you #yandere headcanons #yandere scenarios #yandere imagines #yandere x reader #yandere #yandere blurb #yandere insert #yandere oc #male yandere #loser reader #yandere slime #amab reader

[eddiesxangel]

I Don’t Think We Are In 1986 Anymore? Part 2

Big thanks to @allthingsjoeq @bettyfrommars @somnambulic-thing for the prompts. The Stranger Prompts - directly from the Twilight Zone.

Sort of proof read, if you see mistakes no you didn’t… Sharing is caring. Reblog and comment 💙

You have to read part 1 for this to make any sense.

Cw: time travel, modern/Henderson reader, the aftermath of the upside down/ finding out who your father is and the reunion they never thought possible. Angst, fluff, smut 18+ content, fingering (f), oral (m) p in v sex, cream pie, MDNI

wc: 10k. oops

“Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god…”

"What the fuck! What the fuck! What the fuck!"

You watch and listen as your father has a mental breakdown in your open-concept kitchen. You just got off the phone with your uncle Steve, telling him to get to your place ASAP.

Your dad was stunned… and Eddie was stunned… What were the odds that Eddie would stumble into the house belonging to Dustin Henderson’s daughter?

Eddie could barely discern any similarities. You resembled the woman who came in after Dustin, and Eddie could only presume it was your mother. If he squinted, your eye shape was somewhat reminiscent of Dustin's, but even that was a stretch.

“How?! When?! Holy shit, man, you’re-you’re dead! You died in the upside down!” Your father was dumbstruck, as was your mother, because Eddie died in 1986. Everyone mourned and moved on with life. 

“The upside down?” You looked to your mom to see if she knew what the two men were discussing. It seemed that she was also withholding something from you. 

“I don’t know, man! That was only a few hours ago for me!” Eddie yelled.

“Holy shit,” your dad whispered.

“Wait. You think I’m dead? Like you guys just left me there? In that place?! With those demo-bats?” Eddie’s eyes were wide and, if you were being honest, he looked a little crazy.

“Well… I mean… so much shit was still happening!” 

Your dad was interrupted by a frivolous knocking on the door. 

You rush over to the door. Standing on the other side are your Uncle Steve and Aunt Robin, aka the woman from whom you got your nickname. 

You grab both of them before they can even say hello and drag them by their shirt sleeves. 

“Woah, Birdie, what’s going on!” 

You didn’t need to speak because you were in the kitchen before they could continue. 

You hear your aunt audibly gasp, and your uncle’s mouth hangs agape, stunned. 

There he was, a dead man walking in your kitchen, clear as day. 

“What the fuck”-“That’s not?”

“Uh, hey,” Eddie waves. 

“Holly shit,” they both say in unison. 

Before Eddie knew what was happening, Robin charged at him and wrapped him in a bear hug. 

This was weird for Eddie. He hardly knew the woman—not really. He had only spoken to her for the first time a week ago… well, a week and thirty-eight years ago. 

“Ouch!” -“Sorry!”

“What the actual fuck is going on” she pulled back, still gripping his shoulders. 

“Hey, uh, Robin.”

Her long fingers trailed up his shoulders to grab him by the face, squishing his cheeks together, not believing the sight before her. 

Despite the passing years, her youthful features still shone through. Her face was adorned with a sprinkle of freckles, her hair, still a beautiful shade of dirty blonde with some strands of silver, was now cut a little shorter, but it looked just as radiant as ever. She was unmistakably Robin, just a more mature and refined version of herself.

“Ohhhh-okay,” Eddie forced her hands off his cheeks. 

“Okay, what is going on here?” Steve spoke.

Eddie's eyes lingered on his acquaintance, taking in the lines etched into his face like a map of time. Despite the signs of age, he still looked strikingly handsome, with broad shoulders and a sturdy frame that spoke of years of hard work. His hair, once a wild mop, was now tamed into a close-cropped salt-and-pepper buzz cut. Eddie couldn't help but admire how his friend had aged with dignity and grace, and he felt a twinge of envy at his own mortality.

“One minute, we're in the upside-down fighting off those… those creatures,” Eddie looks to your dad, “and the next…” Eddie waved his hands above his head before flinching from the pain of the bat bites. “I was here!” 

“I don’t understand,” Robin said. 

��You think I do?!” He looked at her. 

“Woah, guys, let’s just calm down,” Steve tried to defuse the room. 

“Calm down? I just learned everyone left me for dead.” Eddie’s voice hitched. 

God, you had a lot of questions. 

“Come on, man, we couldn’t go back without another one of us dying. You stopped breathing in my arms! I swore you had died. I-I-I,” Dustin stammered.

You had never seen your father so distraught. 

“Fuck, come here, man” Eddie reached out to hug his friend. 

It had been mere hours to Eddie, but for his friends, it had been years of mourning and grieving, the acceptance that Eddie Munson was gone from the world. 

“What are you guys talking about?” You ask, breaking the moment. 

“Not now, honey,” your dad spoke, wiping a stray tear. 

“Yes, now!” You screamed. “What are you all talking about? Leaving him for dead? Fighting off creatures? Bats? I saw his wounds! A bat did not make that so. What. happened. in. 1986? And do not tell me an earthquake…” 

After a long explanation, you still could not understand what the most important people in your life had been keeping from you for twenty-eight years. 

“So that brings us to now…” Dustin looked at Eddie. “Tell us exactly what you remember.” 

“I was with you,” he said, pointing to your dad. “And the bats got me; I passed out, I guess because I didn’t remember anything, and when I woke up, I was in the trailer park, but it wasn’t the trailer park anymore… I was here.” 

“There must be an explanation… do you think a gate is open now?” Steve spoke. 

“Not possible; that was closed years ago.” 

“Wait, so what happened to Vecna?” Eddie asked. 

“El dealt with him; he’s long gone.” 

“Wait… Aunt Jane?” You clarified. 

“Yes,” the group confirmed. 

You still cannot believe what the fuck was going on? How everyone seemed so casual about the topic of supernatural occurrences happening in the eighties. 

“I think I need to lie down…” you excuse yourself from the conversation. 

This was too much, too overwhelming. How were you to believe all of this? The evidence was right in front of you… Eddie had time-travelled, and your family confirmed that. 

“Birdie honey, I’m sorry; I never wanted you to learn about all the shit we went through.” Your father pulled you in for a hug before you got too far. 

You needed a second to collect your thoughts, so you went to your living room to lay on your couch. 

You replay the details of what just sprung on you. A man with supernatural powers wanted to take over the town of Hawkins, Indiana, and your aunt, who also has supernatural powers, defeated him. Your dad and his friends, your aunts and uncles, helped. Your super nerdy, uncool father helped save the world. And Eddie, their dead friend, was now alive; somehow time travelled unknowingly and is sitting in your kitchen…

You’re unsure how much time has passed, but you feel the couch dip by your feet. 

“Hey,” a deep voice you’ve now recognized as Eddie filled the empty room. 

“Hey,” you open your eyes and face him. 

“I uh… I just wanted to thank you for everything. You’re being super cool about all of this, about not calling the police on me, calling Dustin- uh, your Dad-that’s so fucking weird to say- I’m glad it was your home I broke into.” He fiddled with the hem of the borrowed shirt you lent him. 

“I wouldn’t say I’m being cool. Honestly, I’m freaking out, but you’re welcome.” You half-heartedly smile. 

“If it makes you feel any better, I’m just as freaked out about this whole mess as you are… in the same boat and all, I guess.”

You hum with acceptance.

When you finally came around and decided to get off the couch, Eddie had already returned to the group's elders, and you walked in on their conversation. 

“Oh, god! Wayne?! Is he? Where?” Eddie couldn’t believe this was the first time he thought of his uncle’s whereabouts. 

“I’m so sorry, Ed.” Dustin couldn’t look him in the eye as he spoke. 

“He’s… what happened?” His voice shook. 

“We would visit from time to time over the years; he found a wife, he never stopped talking about you, he loved you.” Robin smiled as tears welled. 

“The uh… the smoking caught up to him. Lung cancer. He was diagnosed about ten years ago. He fought it for a long time but passed in 2019.” you hear your dad sigh. “…but even if he were still alive, Eddie, you’d sure give him a heart attack if he saw you,” Dustin chides 

“No… yea... No, I guess he would be almost ninety-four now…” Eddie sniffles, trying to hide his glossy eyes.

Not even five hours into living in the future, and it sucked immensely; who knows if he would get to go back home to his time. you felt for him your heart yearned to hug him and tell him it was all going to be okay, but you just met the guy.

“I’m sorry, Eddie.” Your dad touched his shoulder, and your mom looked at him sorrowfully. Like you, she had never met the man your dad idolized. 

As a kid, you were told stories of the great Eddie the Banished, and you worshiped what your father told you about him. But now, seeing the real man in the flesh, wounded, scared, and confused, humanized him. You felt so sorry for him; you wanted to do all you could to help him. 

“Ed, I think we should take you to a hospital,” Steve spoke, breaking the tension. 

“How? I don’t exist. I can’t pay for anything.”

“We have insurance and money; we can pay for it,” Steve rebutted. 

“What if someone recognized me?” 

“What if we gave you a makeover?” You suggested. 

“Absolutely not.” 

“My daughter is right, Eddie; you stick out like a soar thumb.” 

“What do I need to change?” He asks hesitantly. 

“The hair,” you nod. 

“No."

"Not like all of it, but, you know... shorter" You cocked your head, amazing his features.

He was very handsome, and you were attracted to him more than you would care to admit. You should not feel like this toward your dad's friend. Technically, he was thirty years your senior, but you were older than him in the real world.

Eventually, you will accept your supernatural time-travelling weird-ass family secret, but for now, you need to focus on Eddie healing and looking like he was from this century. 

You take to your phone for inspiration. Tapping away on the touch screen, Eddie is memorized by the new technology before him. 

“Can you uh- show me that stuff?” He points to your phone in your hands. 

“Yeah, of course,” you blush; Eddie's intense gaze on you didn’t go unnoticed by your overbearing father. 

“Woah woah woah, no—nope,” Dustin spoke as he wedged between you and the time-travelling man.

“Dad!” You scold.

“What are you even talking about, man?” 

“I know you, Eddie,” your father gave him a stern look. 

“I had no idea what you’re talking about?” he shook his head. But he was lying. He thought you were hot; there was no denying that. It was weird that you were Dustin’s offspring, but did that matter to Eddie? No. He has experienced much weirder these past few days.

“Let’s focus people.” Steve snapped. “Makeover—than a hospital.”

After some internet sleuthing, you and Eddie decided on a haircut you both agreed on. 

“You trust me?” You raise your brows. 

“No, but I don’t really have a choice.” He looked at your overprotective father, hovering, not leaving the two of you unsupervised. 

“Dad, there is not enough room in the bathroom for all of us. Can you leave?” You sass. 

“No funny business,” he points.

"No funny business? The girl has scissors to my head." 

“Mooooooom,” you call for her to help.  

This was ridiculous. You’re a grown woman who can make her own choices, and Eddie is injured; that’s probably the last thing on his mind… and he’s probably not even thinking about you like that. So what could possibly happen? 

You turn to Eddie with a smile as your mom drags away your father. 

As you work away chopping at his hair, rewinding, and re-watching the tutorial off TikTok, you are not paying attention to Eddie's reaction to cutting his hair. If you looked down, you would see a man in pure heaven, blissed out by your touch. To see Eddie's eyes close when your fingers run through his hair. Eddie hadn’t had someone touch his hair in years, not since he first started growing it out. Fully immersion making sure his hair is even, you also don’t notice that you’re standing between his legs and your tits are sat directly at Eddie’s eye level, bouncing around in your tank top, as your arms work above his head. 

Eddie tried hard not to stare; that’s another reason why his eyes were closed, but here he was, basking in your touch while fighting with himself to keep his eyes from zeroing in on your chest. He felt overwhelmed by you in the best way possible, your delicate voice and gentle touch mixed with your sweet-smelling perfumes and hair products. It didn’t take much for Eddie to get wrapped up in you. You had been so kind to him; he was so scared this morning. He was scared of the pain of his injuries; he was alone and the fact that he was no longer in his proper time. 

You made him feel comfortable and safe, but you also made him nervous because he is attracted to you. Once the fright wore off and the calm washed over him when you offered your shower and food, it was instant; how couldn’t he fall for your beauty? 

“What about my face?” Eddie speaks, his eyes still baring into your chest. 

“What about it?” As you step back, your eyes are drawn to the man beneath you. You can't help but admire the striking features that define his face. You trimmed his unruly, chocolate-brown hair, but it still falls in gentle waves that frame his face beautifully. The freckles that dot his cheeks and nose add a touch of playfulness to his otherwise serious expression. But it's his eyes. Those are what captivate you the most. Thick, dark lashes frame deep, earthy-toned irises that seem to hold a whole other world. You can't help but feel a sense of awe at the sight of him.

“Should I shave?” She cocks his head, a few wet tendrils fall on his forehead, and you can’t help but admire his beauty. His scratched face bore a five-o-clock shadow; the circles under his eyes only darkened as the hours passed. However, it only made his deep brown orbs that much more compelling.

“No,” you smile. “I like the scruff.” 

You step back again to admire your work, and Eddie’s eyes awkwardly try to look everywhere but you. 

“Okay, I think we are good,” you smile as you run your fingers through his curls again with a bit more holding mousse. 

Eddie holds back a whimper when your fingers are no longer in contact with his scalp, but he swallows it and stands up off the chair to look in the mirror. 

He smirks at the soft mullet look you’ve given him. It’s still a nod to the eighties but more modern. It’s long still, but he reluctantly doesn’t hate it. 

“I don’t have anything to tip you with,” he awkwardly giggles. 

“That’s okay. You can thank me later.” 

“SHIT” 

“What? What's wrong?” Eddie whipped his head around. He hated hospitals.

“It’s Andy.”

“As in Jason’s friend Andy? As in, Andy that tried killing me, Andy?” 

“Yea, he’s a doctor now.” 

“Fuck” Eddie whispered under his breath. 

“Ok, new plan. You’re my nephew, and your name is Jeremy.” Dustin removed his glasses and put them on Eddie as an extra disguise. 

“Jeremy?” 

“Jeremy.” 

“Dude no, that—“

“How can I help you, gentleman, this afternoon?” Andy. Dr. Andy pushed aside the curtain. 

“He was out hiking and was attacked by a… a….” Dustin stumbled. 

“Bobcat,” Eddie finished. 

“A bobcat in Hawkins?” Dr. Andy raised a brow in question. 

“I was up north. I patched it up, but I thought it should be looked at.” Eddie cleared his throat. 

“OK, let’s take a look. Where is the injury.” He puts down his tablet and watches how Eddie lifts up his shirt, revealing the amateur job you’ve done. 

“It’s also on my leg, but it’s uh, this is the worst of it.” he clears his throat, wincing as Andy peels back the medical tape. 

He lets out a whistle as he examines Eddie’s torso. 

“A bobcat you say?” 

Eddie nods his head silently. 

“Okay, it looks like it’s been cleaned pretty well. You did a good job, but I’ll have to suture some of the gashes that are still bleeding. Andy looks at Eddie and really looks at him this time. 

“Do I?  What did you say your name is?” 

“Jeremy Potter, my nephew! On my wife’s side.” Dustin interrupted. 

Eddie gave him a look to cool it. He was so jumpy it would be suspicious. 

“Huh. Ok. Let’s get you all fixed.” 

A half-hour later, Eddie and your dad stroll out of the examination room with some antiseptic creams and low-grade painkillers. 

“So, uh, it’s getting late; should we grab dinner and go back to Birdie’s?” your dad says. 

“Yeah, sure, sounds good.” Eddie can hear his stomach growl again. 

After picking up the food, Eddie and your dad finally arrived at your place, almost five hours later. You had spent the entire time waiting at home, feeling anxious and restless. As you waited, you couldn't help but imagine Eddie being tended to by a cute nurse. You pictured her doting on him, taking care of him in ways you never could. The thought of him falling for her made your heart ache with jealousy. Despite your best efforts to push away these feelings, you couldn't help but imagine him walking away from you, leaving you behind.

You didn't understand why these feelings were happening. You’d known him for less than twenty-four hours, and the urge to protect and care for him was so strong. You were already starting to miss him and worry about him.

Your mom kept you company, as she felt it wasn’t good for either of you to be alone. The others had to leave, but your mom stayed, and you discussed more of what happened before you were conceived. She knew exactly how you felt, overwhelmed and crazy. It took a while for her to come to terms with what your father described to her all those years ago, but she loved him too much not to believe him, especially when she saw what Jane could do. 

A sense of relief washed over you as your dad and Eddie returned from the hospital. They were okay; his injuries weren’t bad, and he could return to you.  

“Could I stay with, uh, with you guys? Eddie asks your folks, and you set the table, and your stomach drops.

“Shit, man, we are renovating right now; we don’t have space.” 

“You can stay here,” you quickly offered. Your whole guest room hadn’t been used in months. 

“Are you sure? I don’t—you have already done so much for me.” He blushes. 

“Please? I insist.” 

You couldn’t sleep, and he wasn’t going out on the street.

“You raised a good one, Dusty Bun,” Eddie teased.

“Dusty Bun?” You giggle.

“Oh yes your dad had this imaginary girlfriend, Suzy, and—“

“She was real!” Your dad boomed back.

And the three of you laughed.

The house fell silent when your parents left. After saying your goodbyes, you and Eddie stood awkwardly by the door until you offered to show him the room in which he would be staying.

“Sorry if it’s a little feminine for your taste, but the mattress is really comfortable; it’s memory foam,” you smiled.

“Memory foam?” He questioned.

“You sink into it and feel like you’re on a cloud, trust me. Give it a go,” you gesture to the bed for him to sit on.

You watch as Eddie takes a few steps, and she’s his body to sit on the edge; when his bum hits the comforter, his eyes widen, and he falls back and lets out a moan.

“Holy shit, I’m never leaving” he splays himself over the mattress, and you can’t help but giggle.

“I mean-“

“It’s okay, Eddie, I understand. You can stay as long as you need to.”

Who knows how much time he will be here? How would you even begin to figure out how he gets back home? And can he even get back home? Would he have to go through the upside-down again? Or could he just appear back in the real Hawkins? So many unsolved answers were running through everyone’s minds.

Did Eddie even want to go back? Probably. That would be a bummer, you like him, and not only because he is your father’s good friend….

The longer you pondered, the more awkward the silence became.

“Hey, you want a drink?” you offer, not really thinking; you just need something to ease the tension.“Wait, are you old enough to have a drink?” you eye him. 

“Trust me, sweetheart, I can take a drink.” 

“How old did you say you were again?” 

“I’ll be twenty-two this….year? Well, uh, you know.”

You both walk back to your kitchen and grab the bottle of white wine from the fridge.

“This is all I have, I hope it’s okay?”

“I’ll take anything,” he smirks, and your stomach does a summersault.

You ignore the deep inner attraction and walk over to the cabinet where you keep your glassware.

“So, uh— you gonna call me Uncle Eddie?”

You turn to see that smirk still plastered on his face.

“Absolutely not,” you deadpan.

“Why not?”

Because that would mean I want to fuck my uncle…

“I’m older than you.” You uncork the bottle and pour two big glasses each.

“Not technically."

"Technically, you'd be old and wrinkly," you giggle.

"I would still be a badass, though."

"A badass?"

"Oh yeah, everyone is scared of me." He looked a bit sad.

Your dad did tell you how the town was scared of devil worship and shit but you never took it seriously.

“Not scary to me,” you smile.

“Oh yeah, you could handle all of this?”

“I’m a grown woman; you couldn’t handle me.” You pass him the wine glass.

“I’m technically older than you,” he reminds you again. 

“You’re lucky you’re the legal drinking age.”

“Still legal.” His tone implies something more. 

“I could run laps around you.”

“You think so?”

“I know sweetheart”

The name made your stomach flip, and you took a big sip of wine before you moved to sit on your sofa in the living room.

Eddie followed and sat on the other side facing you.

“So tell me more about the future.”

“What do you want to know?”

“Shit, everything.” He took a long sip and hummed at the flavour.

“What’s Ozzy doing?”

“Like Ozzy Osborn?”

“Yea.”

“He’s fine; he used to have a reality show," you giggled.

“About what?”

“Him and his family.”

“Really? And people like that?”

“Oh, yeah, it was huge. I never watched it, but it was pretty mainstream…. You like metal?”

“Like is an understatement. Had my own band and everything.”

“Oh yea dad mentioned that Uncle Jeff was in a band… coffin something?”

Eddie bloomed with pride that you knew of his band. His face turned flush but he could blame that on the alcohol.

“Corroded Coffin.”

“Yes that’s it!” You snapped your fingers. “You cover anything I would know?”

“Uh maybe? Metallica, Dio, Ozzy… obviously.”

“Yeah, I’ve heard some stuff from those bands. Uh, here, let me put in something. “ you smile and grab your phone.

Eddie watches in awe as your fingers click against the glowing rectangle in your hands.

“That thing can play music?”

You nod your head and smile.

“Anything it can’t do?”

“Not really” you shake your head.

You find an 80’a playlist, thinking it will make him feel at home and he was in awe.

“Can you show me more about that?” He points to your smartphone.

“I’m yea sure.” You scoot closer to him so he can see and he looks down at the glowing screen.

As you show him the different features, he’s enamoured with Spotify. He loves how you can have any music at your fingertips.

Google was also another thing he had way too much fun with, asking anything and everything he could think of. He googled Metallica and was shocked when they were nominated for a Grammy only a few years later.

Online shopping was also a whirlwind to explain. Amazon was a trip for him; he couldn't believe in one-day shipping for anything you could desire.

“You mentioned you liked fantasy stuff, what do you like?” You snuggled into him closer so you could see the phone in Eddie’s grip.

“Lord of the rings, D&D, Excalibur— "

"Oh my god!" you jump, and so does Eddie.

"What?!"

You don't answer but scurry to find your TV remote.

"Woah," Eddie mumbles as he sees the crisp picture on the flat screen, which lights up the dark room.

You hold down the mic button on the remote and speak into it. Sure, you could have typed it out, but showing Eddie futuristic things was fun.

"Lord of the Rings"

You turn and watch Eddie to see his eyes light up when the trilogy of movies appears on screen.

"No way!"

"There are also three movies of The Hobbit," you giggle.

It was like watching a kid on Christmas morning. The pure joy on Eddie's face said this was the best news he’d ever heard. And to his defence, this was the best thing that’d happened to him in about three weeks.

“Well, I know what I’m doing tomorrow. I need to be all in and clear-minded when I get to experience these.”

“We can make a day of it.” You smile, not even thinking about your job or any responsibilities. Sure, you worked from home, but you were not getting any work with Eddie in the house.

“Really?” He smiles.

“Yea.” You smile back.

The look in his eyes was too intense. You had to break eye contact and excuse yourself to get the bottle.

You don’t even ask Eddie if he wants more, but you empty the contents into his glass and then return to get the second bottle in the back of your fridge.

The conversation held its own as you explained to Eddie about Tesla, social media, legalization of weed in some states, LGBTQ+ rights, 9/11, Obama, Trump, and the pandemic. You didn't want to overwhelm him with too much at first, but you settled on important things.

“Is sex still the same in the future?” He asked casually. And you almost choke.

“Explain to me how it is in the eighties, and I’ll let you know,” you giggle. The alcohol was definitely taking effect.

“W-w-well I….shit” he didn’t think you’d bite.

“Come on, Eddie. We are both adults.” You slide your foot across the couch and nudge his leg playfully.

“Never mind, forget it.” He blushes.

“No, come on, what do you want to know?”

“Is porn still a thing?” He meekly asks, and you can’t help but burst out laughing.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I promise I’m not laughing at you; it’s just like the biggest industry on the internet.”

“Yea?”

“Oh yea. Anything you are into it’s there. Trust me.”

“Trust you? You’ve paid for porn? Sweetheart, I didn’t take you as that kinda girl,” He accuses.

“Hell no, I don’t pay for it.” You laugh.

“Then how do you know what’s out there?” He retorted.

“Because it’s free.” You take your last sip of wine for the night.

Eddie stares at you, mouth agape.

“I’m a single woman, and I have needs.” You defend.

Eddie was stunned. Did he just hear that you touch yourself to free porn on that tiny electric box in your hands? Yes, he did.

“Uh— uh, is there any chance I could brow that phone thing you got there?"

"Absolutely not!" you laughed.

"Why not?! I’m a curious man! I need to learn I have needs too."

"Good night, Eddie," you laugh as you get up off the couch.

“Birdie, come on, please!”

“Goodnight, Eddie.” You shake your head and leave Eddie alone to get ready for bed.

The next morning you were tired, to say the least. You’d gone to bed late and decided to call in sick for the rest of the week.

You woke up around 10:00 a.m. to find the guest room door ajar, and Eddie was still sound asleep. He probably needed a good night's sleep after everything he’d been through, so you made your way downstairs to make breakfast for the both of you.

As the smells wafted through the house, they made their way to the guest room and woke up Eddie instantly. He woke up with a jerk, having forgotten where he was for a split second, but he calmed down once he remembered you.

“He pulled on the same sweatpants and shirt you gave him yesterday and stumbled down to the kitchen.

“Morning, sleepy head,” you smiled over your shoulder.

Eddie wasn’t ready to see you in only a small tank top and tiny sleep shorts.

“M-morning” he stuttered as he took in the view of you.

“I’m making us some food; hope you like bacon and eggs”

“Yeah, definitely.”

“How about coffee?” You walk over to your specialty coffee bar. You loved making gourmet coffees with the syrups and milks.

“Black, please.” he walked over to see the different options.

“That’s so boring! Let me make you something special.”

He gave another funny look, but you insisted.

So you ignore his request, brew your cinnamon coffee pod, add dulce de leche-flavoured syrup and a splash of cream, and slide it over to him.

He looks at you suspiciously, sniffs it and gives a curious look.

“Oh my god, it’s delicious. Just taste it.”

“I’m not sure what freaky futuristic shit you put in this,” he teases.

You squint your eyes but then give a smirk of satisfaction as his eyes bulge as he takes the first sip.

“Shit, that’s good,” he mumbles before taking another sip.

“Told ya” you turn back to the food of the stove to start platting it.

It was fairly quiet as the both of you ate. Eddie was still scarfing down the food like he’d never eaten a home-cooked meal, which made you more curious about the events he’d been through.

“I was thinking we could go shopping today. Can we get you some clothes and maybe a phone?” You tease.

“A phone?” He perked up.

“Maybe, I’m not sure how long you’re staying, and if you wanted to keep in contact with everyone, it’s the easiest way.” You shrugged.

“O-o-okay. But then we can come back here and watch Lord of the Rings?"

"Of course." You smile

Your dad and Uncle Steve met you at the Starcourt Mall around noon. You never thought you would be shopping with these two and their dead friend, but here you were.

After a very long time in Target, and a fashion show, Eddie got a full wardrobe.

“Can we get Eddie a phone?” You ask as you hrough the familiar halls.

“Really? Do you think he needs one? We don’t know how long he’ll be here,

“We don’t even know if we can get him back home”

“I think I’d like one… if it isn’t too much money.” Eddie asked.

“Don’t worry about that Ed’s” your dad turns.

So you and Eddie walk over to the mobile booth and get him a basic smartphone so he can interact with everyone.

Eddie was still enamoured by the touch screen technology, especially in your car. You had to tell him off for messing with the music but he couldn’t help himself.

You let him know you’d help him with his playlist once you got home.

When you and Eddie get home, you teach him how to use it. After the painstaking lesson, he seems to eventually get used to the new technology. He seemed like a natural after an hour or so then the two of you settled down to watch the movie.

You had the whole set up with blankets, pillows, snacks, and drinks.

Turns out Eddie has a knack for new technology because that night, it didn’t take much for him to find porn. He was overwhelmed by the thousands of options. He clicked the first few that were featured and basically came without seconds of watching, but Eddie was determined and unbelievably horny. After the first time, he wasn’t satisfied, so he continued to look for videos. His curiosity took over with all of the categories, but he found himself going back to the ones where the girl resembled you.

As you’re laying in bed trying to fall asleep, you hear him. Did he not release how loud he was? How incredibly hot he sounded as his grunts travelled through your walls. You couldn’t get the image of Eddie touching himself out of your head, no matter how hard you tried to block him out. You couldn’t even get your headphones because they were in your purse downstairs, and you didn’t want to get up and alarm Eddie.

So you lay there on your phone, scrolling mindlessly until you see Eddie’s new contact pop up. You click on it instantly. It’s a voice note.

Do you dare? You know what he’s doing down the hallway. Even if it is muffled, it’s obvious. You can hear the moans of a girl getting fucked on the screen.

The little devil on your shoulder wins as you find yourself pressing play.

‘Uuuuuuuh fuck-yessssss, just like that! Unnnnnngh mmmmmmmm so hot, fuck-“

His voice was deep and gasping with need.

You didn’t even know you could record a voice note while watching a video, but who knows?

“Such a good girl. Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmm”

And it cuts off. You rewind it again to listen to him say goodgirl, and your stomach flip flops, and you can feel something burning in your core.

It’s been so long since you’ve been with anyone. You can’t help but reach for your vibrator hidden in your nightstand.

You replay the voice note and turn it on. You imagined Eddie’s body on yours, how he would touch your skin, kiss your collarbone, eat you out, praise you; God, his voice was so hot, you were quivering with pleasure. Before you knew it, you had been cumming within minutes.

The next morning, you, too, were oblivious to Eddie also hearing your needy breaths.

He had no idea that he was the reason behind them, but when he heard the toy's low humming and your moans, he had a slight hunch that you were also doing the same as him.

“Sleep well?” you ask, walking into the kitchen to see Eddie trying to figure out the coffee maker. He turns to see you in nothing but a large T-shirt, fuzzy socks, and bunny slippers, and he never thought he could feel more butterflies looking at someone. It’s fast, it’s strong, and it’s scaring Eddie. His attraction to you is nothing like he’s experienced before.

“Uh yeah— you?" you think back to how you fell asleep, blissed out.

“Yeah,” he smirks, also thinking back to how he made himself cum three times last night, a new personal best.

You think for a minute that you should tell him about the voice note, but you decide against it. It would only be an uncomfortable situation. So you leave it and pretend like nothing happened.

You drove both you and Eddie to Uncle Steve's house. It was a strange and surreal experience watching Steve and Eddie interact, as if no time had passed since they last saw each other. It was like they had picked up their friendship right where they left off.

As you and Eddie caught up with Steve, you learned about what happened after the incident. There was a funeral, which was attended by few people, but the ones who mattered were there. You discovered that the kids took turns visiting the empty grave, cleaning up the graffiti left by the townspeople. Eventually, the graffiti stopped and people ceased to care. However, Hellfire and the rest of the gang still visited the grave and left flowers from time to time.

Steve got married, but the marriage didn't last long. You remembered how much you disliked her when they visited you as a kid. Steve never got over Nancy; he still loved her, even though she chose someone else. He hoped they would find their way back to each other someday, but she had moved overseas for investigative journalism.

Eddie wasn't surprised to hear that Uncle Mike and Aunt Jane got married. Although he had never met her, he remembered how fondly Mike had spoken about her. Mike loved her with all his heart.

You also learned that Will, the other boy Eddie never met, became a big animator working in LA. Steve shared that Lucas was the basketball coach at Hawkins High, and Erica had become a CEO.

Eddie asked about Max, and Steve replied that she was okay now. It took a while, but after Vecna had gotten to her, she was in a coma for months. Her vision never came back, and it took a long time for her to recover. Steve half-heartedly smiled. Eddie cringed and asked if Vecna had any more victims, and Steve replied that Carver hadn't made it. There was a huge earthquake that came from the Upside Down that killed about ten people they didn't know. Talking about it was clearly bothering Steve, but Eddie needed to know.

"Can you show us some pictures?" You asked, trying to lighten the mood.

"Yeah, sure, kid." He smiles and leads you to where he kept the photo albums. After seeing all the memories Eddie missed out on, he felt a feeling he's never felt before.

"You okay?" You ask, noticing how quiet he was on the drive back.

"Yeah? No? I don’t know. I’m just— I missed out so much! I was supposed to be there with them! I'm starting to regret my choice of staying back… I. Shit that sounds awful, but I'm not supposed to be here. I'm supposed to be back there, in 1986, with my friends and my uncle! And now I'm stuck here and don't even know if I'll be able to go back home?!"

You don't know why you're hurt by Eddie's words, but you are. This wasn't about you, but the thought of Eddie not wanting to be here made you feel like he doesn't want to be with you.

"Don't say that, Eddie! What you did was brave; it was dignified! You chose to help save your friends. Sure, it was a little stupid because you died. Or didn't die? I don't know… but I always saw you as this hero my dad would talk about! You're honourable and kind and so selfless. And somehow, it led you to here…"

To me.

"Thanks, Sweetheart."

The nickname made your heart flutter. It's not the first time he called you that, but each time it doesn't go unnoticed.

"I'm scared," Eddie finally admits as you pull into the driveway.

"I know," you whisper.

You would be terrified if it were you in Eddie's position. You don't know how he's held it together this long. You weren't lying when you told him he was brave. He's the bravest person you've ever met."

Several weeks have passed, and you and Eddie have settled into a comfortable routine. You’re back at work, and Eddie has accepted that he will be stuck in the future. You and Eddie wouldn’t want to leave one another at the end of each day. You’d catch one another, with both of your lingering glances.

Your family had searched for anything and everything to research and look into anything that could be used as a portal to the upside-down or time travel. But the gate was permanently closed and had been for over thirty years, and there was no way they would risk opening it back up just of the possibility of Eddie getting attacked again, so maybe he could get back. The possibility of a gate on the other side was extremely slim because it had been sealed.

Eddie would spend hours sitting by the window, gazing at the vast expansion of houses before him. It was hard to believe that the once-desolate trailer park he called home was now this fancy. The years he had spent away from it had brought about so many changes that he struggled to come to terms with. He often found himself pining for a life that should have been, but he knew deep down that he had to accept the way things were now.

Despite feeling emotionally numb, he took solace in the fact that he was still here, breathing and healing. Each day brought with it small signs of progress, and he clung to them with all his might. He knew that he still had a long road ahead of him, but for now, he was content to sit by the window and watch the world go by, slowly but surely regaining his strength and sense of purpose. he was dead to the world but here he was, living, breathing... healing.

His physical wounds were healed; all that was left was a nasty scar. His mental wounds, however, were still ever-present in his mind. He would have night terrors; he couldn’t hide them. You would hear him screaming in the night, sometimes multiple times, if he was able to fall back asleep.

He tried talking about it with Dustin and the others, but nothing seemed to help. He was exhausted and mentally drained by the fact that nothing was the same; nothing was familiar. Sure, his friends were there for him, but they had changed; they weren’t the same people as he remembered them.

Eddie had another awful dream tonight if you could call it that. It was more of a memory; the exact events of that fatal night replayed as a loop inside his brain.

It always starts when he's with Dustin in the boarded-up trailer. Then, he watches as Dustin crawls through the gate. Eddie waits, watching him for a split second before running back out. He no longer wants to be a coward or a runner. He's surrounded by unearthly creatures, fighting for his life, but there are too many. He can't escape. All he feels is the pain, terror, and then nothing. It's all darkness, quiet, and loneliness. The worst part is the solitude, the feeling of being so alone. He longs for the day when he no longer feels that way.

Sometimes, when he's with you, he forgets that he's not supposed to be here. But as soon as he returns to this room, which is not his, it all comes crashing back down.

As the night wore on, Eddie's screams pierced through the stillness of the house. You had been lying awake for hours, listening to his panicked cries, feeling helpless and powerless to ease his distress. You can no longer take it; you can't listen to him suffer. You push the covers off, not caring that you’re only in a big T-shirt, and walk over to Eddie’s room and timidly knock on the door.

You slowly push it open as he never latches it fully shut. You can see him in the dim light of the moon fling the room and the light from the hallway. He’s a bit sweaty, trashing under the covers. He’s still sleeping, if that’s what you can call it. You can’t imagine the image playing in his mind as you slowly make your way over to wake him, to not get knocked out in the process. The room was dimly lit, and Eddie's ragged breathing was the only sound as he tried to calm himself down.

Eddie hadn't noticed you walked over to him, he was still sleeping. You sat beside him, gently stroking his hair, and whispered comforting words in his ear. Slowly but surely, his screams subsided, and his breathing became more regular.

“Eddie,” you gently whisper, brushing your hand across his bare back. His skin is sticky with sweat but he’s cold.

“Eddie,” you repeated, slowly circling your hand around his back in comfort.

He jerks awake with a gasp, and unexpectedly, he grabs you and pulls you into a tight hug.

“I’m so scared, Birdie.” You can feel him trembling in your arms as your body slowly relaxes under his touch.

“Shhhh. I’ve got you; I’m here.” You hold him as silent tears fall down his cheeks, staining your shirt. You rock him slowly to help calm him down. You lay beside him in silence, there for him, holding him.

“I don’t- can you-“ he takes a deep breath. You stay quiet to let him gather his thoughts.

“Can.... you stay with me tonight?”

Your heart melts as you hear the words trickle from his lips. He’s so delicate. He needs to be cared for, and you’re more than willing.

“Come.” You take his hand and lead him to your room. You pull him into your still-warm bed, snuggling under the covers together.

This isn't the closest youve been to Eddie. You've managed to fall asleep on his shoulder while watching the lord of the Rings movies a time or two. But this felt different. It was more intimate, and you weren't sure how to go about it.

You let Eddie take the lead as you lay beside him. You feel his fingers intertwine with yours under the duvet, and you squeeze his hand before opening up your arms so you can hold him. He lays his head on your chest. The tears have subsided for now, and you kiss the top of his head without thinking. You let your lips linger on his head before he looked up at you. His pleading eyes long for any source of comfort, especially from you.

You have been there for him, even when you should have called the cops after he broke into your house. But you were selfless; you let him find shelter, a shower, clean clothes, and food, all before you knew who he was. He was so frightened, but you showed him compassion. He started falling for you then, even if he didn't really see it a month ago; he sees it now.

You're so kind and fun; you get him to the fullest degree, even if you're not from the same time. Maybe Eddie has Dustin to thank, but he is falling for you. At this moment, in another time of need, you're with him in the middle of the night, comforting him even if you have work tomorrow. Eddie sees that didn't matter to you. You're here for him. So can he really blame himself when he tilts his head further to see more comfort from you in a gentle kiss? No, he can't. He's been longing for this, pining and itching to feel his lips on yours.

It takes you by surprise; his lips are so soft and delicate. It's been so long since you've kissed someone you've developed feelings for.

Eddie is desperate for more. He wants this so badly; he moans as he feels you start to kiss him back, but that snaps you out of it.

“We shouldn’t. This is wrong; you’re not in the right headspace.” You pull back, looking into his pleading eyes.

“Please, I want to forget. I don't know how else to forget," he begs you. He needs this to not be remembered, even if it is temporary. Eddie's lips hover centimetres from yours. His hot breath fans over your skin as you try to think of what to do.

You want this, he wants this, so what is stopping you?

"Birdie, if you don't want to, I'll go back to my room; I can move in with Steve or Robin or someone. I'm sorry; I overstepped. I just-"

You cut him off with another kiss, but you're not overthinking it this time. You need him to feel how you're feeling, how everything is only right when you're with him.

Before Eddie came into your life, you felt like everything was average and unremarkable. But since he's entered your world, he's brought a sense of excitement and adventure that you never knew existed. Even though his presence can be chaotic sometimes, you find yourself drawn to him and the thrill he brings. You feel like he's exactly what you've been missing and never want to return to your old, mundane life.

"I need this too, Eddie," you mumble into his lips, and Eddie sighs; his heart skips a beat.

You feel his weight shift as Eddie leans into the kiss. He leans you back into your pillows, taking the lead. You feel how his hands trace up your arms so he can cup your face.

He wants to feel you, breathe you, and be with you. No one has ever shown Eddie so much selflessness as you have. You deserve the world in Eddie’s eyes, and he wants to let you know how grateful he is to have you.

But he also wanted to forget it all—all the terrible things he’d witnessed and gone through. He just wanted it to go away for a while. So, for now, while he’s with you, his anxieties and fears are slowly being plucked away with each moan, gasp, and timid graze.

Eddie can feel your heat through the thin pyjama pants adorning his waist. You’re only in a shirt and your panties, but Eddie needs to see more of you.

“Can I take this off?” He mumbles in between desperate kisses as his fingers grip the hem of your sleep shirt.

You don’t let him ask again before you tug it over your head. You didn’t think his doe eyes could get any bigger, but here he was, proving you wrong, and it only made him look more endearing.

You reach out to Eddie as he sits there like a statue, staring at you. You take his hand, bring it up to your chest, and place his large hand on your breast.

“Hollyshit,” he whispered, realizing he was touching his best friend’s daughter. But that thought quickly passed as you leaned up in to kiss him; it's sloppy, it’s desperate, it’s wet, it’s so hot Eddie thinks he might just bust in his pants here and now when you ground your hips into his already painfully hardened cock.

You can’t help but moan when your pussy brushes up against him. You can feel how turned on he is, and it only makes you want him more.

“More,” you moan as Eddie’s hip grinds into yours.

Eddie didn’t need to be told twice. His fingers find the twists of your underwear, and he lets his fingers slip down to your slit. You widen your legs so you can feel it all. His long fingers trace up and down your slit, collecting your slick before he impressively finds your clit on the first go.

His lips travel down lower so they can latch on your neck.

“Oh, Eddie,” you breathe as the combination of his fingers and lips sends a shockwave of pleasure through your body. His mouth leaves a mark on your delicate skin.

“Good girl, say my name.”

Another wave of pleasure travels through you these words.

“Eddie,” you moan. You don’t even recognize your own voice. It’s so desperate and needy. If you weren’t so desperate, you’d be embarrassed.

“Fuck, that’s so hot” he slips a single digit up into you to test the waters. “Baby, you’re soaked. All for me?” He groans with need.

“Yes, Eddie, I want you so bad; I need you so bad,” You squirm under his touch. He pumps his thick, long finger in and out before adding another one.

His head travels lower, and his mouth latches onto your perked nipple. His warm, wet mouth feels so nice, but that quickly is gone as he nips at your bud, and you let out an unexpected yelp.

“Fucking love your noises” Eddie moved onto your other nipple doing the same thing, only this time you’re prepared, and you arched up into his touch. His fingers are still working on you, and you’re so close.

“Don’t stop” You’re so close, and he knows it; he can feel your pussy clamping down on him with each pump of his hand.

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” Pleasing you has been the only thing that has made him feel this good in a while.

All his worries and anxieties were by the wayside. His only purpose was to please you, to touch you, to please you.

You could feel it coming; you were so close only a few more seconds, and you would be flooded with ecstasy.

A roar of Eddie’s name rips from your lungs as you soak his fingers. Eddie never thought he would be so lucky to experience this with you, but here he was, watching as your body shook with pleasure all before of him.

“Fuuuuuck, you did so well for me, baby.” You don’t even notice when he sticks his fingers in his mouth to taste you. You’re too blissed out.

You didn’t think your pussy would need anything more, but hearing his praises only makes you quiver with need. You need his cock; you need to make him feel good. This was about him forgetting; this was about the both of you making one another feel good. You needed to take care of him.

Once you caught your breath, you shuffled so he was under you.

Eddie watched as you discarded your soaked panties and were fully naked for him. Kneeling at his waist, drooling over what was under his tented pants.

“Can I?“ you bat your lashes innocently as you reach for the waistband of his pants.

“Fuck, you have to ask, sweetheart; any time you want to, just do it.”

You giggle at his eagerness, but it’s cut off when you see just how pretty his cock is.

The head is so pink; it’s just screaming at you to put it in your mouth.

Your mouth waters as he grips his cock in his hand, guiding it to your mouth.

You stick out your wet tongue and the moonlight reflects off of it, it’s that wet.

Eddie can’t help but tap it a few times before you take his tip fully.

Eddie’s messy curls fall back as he lets his head hang, you looked up through your lashes to see his exposed neck and it only made you want to mark him as yours.

Your attention shifts when you feel his large hand run along your scalp, gently tugging at your roots. Your eyes roll back as his grip tightens, and you sink deeper.

His hard cock feels heavy in your mouth. His small whimpers make your pussy drip as you bob your head up and down his shaft. His taste and smell are overwhelming. All you want is to please him. To help him forget. Selfishly, you only want him to focus on you, and it’s working.

Eddie can’t believe he’s in your room, in your bed, watching you naked as you give him the best head of his life. He’s forgotten everything; he only knows you and how you’re making him feel. He’s feeling good. It's the first time in weeks he feels good, amazing even.

“Such a good girl, Birdie.” He tried so hard to not thrust his hips up into your mouth, but it’s so hard when he feels you take all the way.

You nuzzle your face into the thatch of hair at the base of his cock. It’s soft and smells of him; it’s overwhelmingly Eddie. You drool out of the sides of your mouth as you finally come back up for air. Replacing your mouth with your hand. Jacking him off as Eddie takes your mouth in his own once again.

“Need to be inside of you.” he pulls you up so you're straddling his lap.

You adjust quickly so you can sink slowly on his cock. I'm not even thinking about a condom; you’re on birth control anyway. You need him. He needs you. Simple.

You hold his shoulders for balance as you ease your way on his thick long cock. It burns slightly as he stretches you out, but you need it. You want it.

“Fuck you’re so big, Eddie” your head falls back as you sink to the bottom.

Eddie watches in awe as your body envelopes itself around him. You’re so tight and warm around him that he can’t help but grip your hips to help guide you up and down his cock.

Slowly you start to rise and fall on his cock. Both your mouths hang open as the pleasure courses through your veins. You slowly build up your place until you’re bouncing on his cock.

“Got, you’re so fucking hot,” Eddie pants.

He can’t help but take your breast in his mouth again. This had to be the hottest experience of his life. An ‘older’ girl from the future wanting him just as much as he wanted her? Fuck maybe this was heaven?

“Does that feel good, baby?” you coo. All you want is for him to feel as good as you do.

“Shit, yes, your pussy is so tight, fuck me. You’re so sexy.”

“You’re so big,” you moan.

You silence him with another kiss. You feel his tongue in your mouth immediately. He’s so skilled it makes you think how he can use it elsewhere….

“I’m so close, Birdie. Are you close?” He pulls back.

“Mmmmmmmmmm” you nod your head yes.

You need more, but your legs are burning and about to give out. Your pace falters, and Eddie can see you’re getting tired, so he steadies your hips and fucks himself up into you.

“Oh my god!!! Eddie!!!” You hold on to his shoulder to brace yourself. His cock hits your g spot with each powerful stroke; it feels so good you can’t focus on anything else but cuming all over him.

“That’s it, Birdie, come on my cock, good girl.”

“Holy shit,” you cry out.

“I’m going to come. Where do you want?”

“Inside!” The aftershock still taking over your senses.

You listen to Eddie’s grunts as he releases himself inside of you, it sounds so hot you didn’t think he could be any more attractive, but he was holding you down on his cock, not letting any of his cum leak out just yet.

You collapse down onto Eddie chest as your heavy breathes become synchronized.

“I think they nicknamed you the wrong woodland creature.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m going to call you Bunny stress of Birdie.”

Your brain is still foggy, and you’re unsure what he means.

“You’re like a bunny hopping all over my cock”

“Eddie!” You playfully slap his chest before you decide to go off of him.

“So, is sex really that much different from the eighties?” You giggle as you roll over to lie beside him.

“I think it might be better,” he says as he pulls you in for another hot kiss.

“You wanna go again?” You look at him, surprised.

“What? Can’t keep up with a younger man?”

“It’s four in the morning, Eddie. I have to work,” you moan. Your heart wants it, but your head says otherwise.

“Shit! I’m sorry”

“Don’t be. Tomorrow, I’ll show you what I can do; that first round was nothing.” You giggle.

After Eddie helped you get cleaned up, the room was silent for a bit.

"Thank you for being there for me, Bridie." Eddie takes your hand and gently squeezes it.

"No need to thank me, Eddie, I'll always be there for you."

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x fem!reader smut #eddie munson imagine #modern!eddie munson #modern!eddie x reader #modern eddie munson #eddie munson #eddie munson fan fic #eddie munson angst #Eddie Munson fluff

[steddieas-shegoes]

not a top

for @steddiemicrofic prompt ‘top’

rated e | 510 words | cw: recreational drug use, questionable consent if you squint really hard and close both eyes due to the previously mentioned recreational drug use | tags: unclear relationship at the beginning, anal fingering, anal sex

🔝🔝🔝🔝🔝🔝🔝🔝🔝🔝🔝

“So you’re…not a top?” Eddie asked Steve, high enough to forget how they got on this topic at all, but not high enough to ever forget the way Steve’s hand hadn’t left his thigh for the last ten minutes.

“I’ve never-“ Steve sighed. “Never had sex with a guy, not all the way. So I guess I don’t actually know. But I just kinda feel like I’d enjoy being a bottom more.”

Eddie was ready to propose marriage, maybe offer to give him a home and as many babies as he wants. Maybe he could bribe scientists to figure out how they could biologically have their own kids together.

“What makes you feel that way?” Eddie managed to ask in a high-pitched voice.

Steve shrugged. “Just think I’d like being under someone, being held. I dunno. Sounds stupid out loud.”

“Like fuck it does.”

Steve’s head whipped around, eyes wide. “What?”

“It doesn’t sound stupid at all. It sounds like you want someone to take care of you and make you feel nice. You don’t have to be a bottom for that, though, if you end up not liking having something in your ass,” Eddie really needed to stop smoking with Steve.

“I do like things in my ass, though.”

Eddie has to stop smoking. Period.

“You said-“

“I said I’ve never had sex with a guy. I didn’t say I haven’t had stuff in my ass,” Steve smirked. “You think I went to Indy with Robin last month and didn’t stop at a sex shop?”

“Uh. Yeah. Yeah, I did think that.”

“Big mistake.”

“Clearly.”

They sat in a comfortable silence, looking up at the ceiling of Steve’s bedroom. Steve’s hand was still on his thigh, even though the angle probably wasn’t great with how they’d migrated more perpendicular than parallel.

“You should fuck me.”

Eddie sat up.

“I should what? I think I have something in my ears.”

Steve sat up, slower, turning so he was facing Eddie, hand still on his thigh.

“I want you to fuck me.”

“That’s not what you said the first time.”

“It’s what I meant.”

“Steve, I’m honored. But I think the weed is a bit strong for you tonight-“

“Eddie. Kiss me. Touch me. Fuck. Me.”

Eddie was not one for authority, but he was quite good at following directions when it involved getting his lips and hands on a pretty boy.

He kissed Steve. He touched Steve.

He opened Steve up slowly, even when Steve begged for more, faster, harder.

“Need you,” he whined.

God, he whined so pretty.

Eddie was tempted to open him up on a fourth finger, but decided his own cock couldn’t take another second without being inside him.

“Gonna fuck you, sweetheart,” Eddie gasped as he slid the only condom in Steve’s drawer down his length. “Gonna fuck you so good.” He covered himself in lube. “Give you what you need.”

When he bottomed out, Steve sighed.

“Yeah. Okay.”

Eddie kissed his forehead, silent question in his eyes.

“I’m definitely not a top,” Steve winked.

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddiemicrofic #steddiemicroficmay #stranger things

[godslino]

IN BLOOM | jisung first date series. second chance lovers.

pairing: jisung x fem!reader word count: 13.2k genre: childhood friends au, angst, fluff, songwriter!jisung, florist!reader warnings: swearing, minor character death, grief/loss (nothing to do with any of the members!) summary: it's february. the tulips are in bloom. jisung is back.

chan | minho | changbin | hyunjin | jisung | felix | seungmin | jeongin · · · ♡ series masterlist · · · ♡ taglist · · · ♡

a/n: *taps mic* hello?? is this thing on?? oh good. yes. hi. hello! it's been a while, as most of you can tell. thank you all SO MUCH for sticking around. if you've been reading my asks you'll know that march and april were rough months for me personally. shout out to my anons and mutuals who kept my spirits high and made my days brighter. uhhh, this was originally supposed to be a stand alone fic but i figured hey, what the hell, and made it into jisung's first date chapter. it's pretty heavy stuff. lots of feelings, lots of love. i hope you guys enjoy reading it as much as i did writing it! again, thank you so much for waiting for me. i'll be back soon with more updates! all the love <3

also thank you kenzie for being such a light during all of this. i hope all my screaming in your messages was worth it!

“All of these had to be pulled.” Hyunjin huffs, dropping a few crates just past the doorway. 

“Again?” you ask, hands on your hips as you stare at yet another wasted supply. “I don’t understand, they sold so well last year.”

Hyunjin gives you a sad smile. “It’ll pick up eventually, don’t worry. I mean the holidays just finished and business usually slows down in the months after anyways.”

He’s being sincere, you know that. But there’s a part of you that also knows it’s a lot more than just the usual ebb and flow of sales. He’s being nice for your sake.

“Maybe we could try coming up with other ideas?” he suggests, because Hyunjin is nothing if not kind. Always willing, always finding a way.

He moves past you to grab a fresh pair of gloves. The ones he’s wearing are dirty, pollen-stained and ripped at the edges. 

“You’ve always been really good at basket arrangements. We could try to make some for Valentine's Day. Different sizes, maybe? The big ones will probably do well for online orders since they’re more optimal for things like office deliveries and stuff like that.”

You hum in approval. “True. I mean, I was kind of worried we would have to skip out on deliveries this year since we don’t have the manpower to handle all of that, but I think Jeongin’s been looking to pick up hours around here again. He said something about his program giving them a month of independent study, so he’ll be home for a bit.” you say, scribbling down a reminder in your notebook. “I could ask him to help with driving the truck in his free time?”

Hyunjin lights up– he always does when Jeongin is mentioned. 

It’s been a lot quieter ever since he left for college. There were so many tears and so many hugs that were met with countless 'you guys are dramatic's in return. But it’s hard to not feel sad when people leave town; when they decide the borders lined with apple trees and rice fields aren’t enough to stop their dreams from blooming into more than what’s capable of being pursued here.

That, unsurprisingly, is something you know all too well.

“Can’t believe he’s driving.” Hyunjin laments as he wipes his floral scissors with a rag. “I used to spend my days changing his diapers and spoon feeding him redbulls– but now? Driving? My baby is all grown up.” he fake sniffles. “By the way, I’m gonna take my fifteen after I’m done snipping these tulips.”

You snort, bending down to take the crates of wilted flowers to the back for disposal. Hyunjin moves to help but you shake him off.

“Sounds good. Also, don’t let Innie hear you say that. I’m about a thousand percent sure he has the strength needed to throw you into the dumpster with one arm now.”

“My baby would never do that to me!” Hyunjin calls out as you round the corner, bumping open the back door with your hip. 

February brings a lot of rain in Jeju. Today is no different; fat drops landing on your head as soon as you stumble out into the alley behind the shop. Footsteps heavy on wet brick, you curse under your breath as you run as fast as you can to the dumpster.

There’s still a few supply boxes from yesterday’s shipment laying around. You meant to bring them in, but you were so exhausted that it slipped your mind while you struggled to make sure everything inside the shop was figured out.

Scrambling, you haul them in one by one, shoes squeaking against the floor as you alternate in and out, soggy cardboard pressed against the front of your apron. 

Hyunjin’s on break. A necessary one at that. You can’t bother him, especially not when he’s done enough by taking on more responsibility both as a physical worker and a newly actualized business partner recently. A few stacks of boxes and wet hair seem like a fair trade off for what he’s had to sacrifice in the past year now.

“Idiot,” you mumble, cursing yourself for carelessness. Your slip ups have been more frequent lately, evident in the way you constantly forget things and can’t seem to push away the haziness clouding your mind. 

If it weren’t for the timing of it all, you’d blame it on the weather. The gloominess. The overcast skies probably have some sort of hand in your lack of clarity. Shrouded.

But it’s February. And in Jeju— it rains.

By the time you make it back inside, you’re drenched. 

“You look like you just got dunked in a pool.” 

You frown, ringing your hair out into the trash bin by the door. It’ll definitely take time to dry off, both your hair and your clothes are soaked through.

Hyunjin watches with an amused look, arms crossed as he leans his back against the counter.

“Might as well have. It’s insane out there.” you sigh. “How was your break?”

You look up to find that his face has gone unreadable.

“Yeah, about that…” Hyunjin trails off, voice suddenly smaller than before.

“Everything okay?” 

“Yeah, yeah it’s just–” Hyunjin chews at his bottom lip.

You push past him into the supply room to switch out your apron just as he says, “Do you mind if I leave a little early today?”

You scoff, turning to face him. “Hwang Hyunjin,” you scold, lips twitching when he visibly startles at your tone, “You don’t have to ask me that. We’re partners now, remember? We run this place.” 

He shifts on his feet, still unsure.

“Besides,” you huff, tying a knot behind your back, “We were friends way before that, too. You don’t have to be all proper with me. Of course you can leave early. It’s slow today, I can take care of it.”

Hyunjin sighs after contemplating for a second. “Are you sure you’ll be okay, though?” 

When he stares at you for a moment too long, you know the real reason for his hesitation. It makes something twist deep in your gut.

Guilt, maybe, amongst other things.

“Of course.” you shrug, doing your best to seem nonchalant. 

Hyunjin’s ability to read people is kind of intense, a little scary at times. You happen to be one of his favorite subjects in that regard.

“Have fun. Tell Minah I said hi.”

He pales, sputtering around words as he struggles to say something. It’s cute, his plump lips opening and closing, eyes wild.

“I’m not going to see her! I’m–it’s just a movie! How did you—God, you’re so annoying. I should’ve made you trim the tulips. Hah!”

You giggle. “It’s funny that you think I wouldn’t know, especially with the way you love to actually make yourself look busy whenever she stops by to say hi.”

“I am busy.” he mumbles, looking away. “I just emphasize it a lot more when she’s here.”

“Sure,” you roll your eyes, “Let’s go with that.”

He whines a couple more times, trails after you around the shop and laughs when you swat him away with a rolled up newspaper that’s used for wrapping vases.

It’s loud. Easy. Hyunjin is a gentle reminder that normalcy still exists in your day to day, even if it’s hard to find. 

When he finally decides to leave, he lingers for a moment, triple checks that you’ll be okay. You roll your eyes for what feels like the millionth time today, but deep down you’re grateful. 

“Love you,” he says, one foot out the door. “Call me if you need anything.”

You shake your head, ignoring him. “Love you too.” 

And then he’s gone, a skip in his step as he heads down the sidewalk, leaving you with nothing but freshly-trimmed tulips and the sound of rain. 

“Herb snips, shears, tape…” you mumble, scanning the supply shelf. 

There’s not much to do in-shop right now. Almost all the arrangements have been tended to by Hyunjin already, his specialty being his keen eye. That’s why he handles the appeal of the shop, leaving you to figure out all the logistics. Learning it all was easier said than done.

In reality, it was never your intention to take over the shop at all. 

“When I die,” your grandma would always say, ignoring the way you groaned and begged her to stop bringing it up, “Sell this place. Use the money for something worthwhile. A trip to Greece, maybe?”

“Nana,” you would scold, glaring at her where she stood next to you, trimming a batch of roses.

Wrinkled hands that still held all the skill of youth. Fingers moving at a speed others could only ever dream of having– you included.

Your grandma handled flowers with the same amount of care she did everything else. It’s no wonder that when they grew they would lean in her direction, drawn to her like they would be the sun. 

“I’m not selling this place. It’s too special, too important. A vacation only lasts so long, Nana. This is forever.”

She would smile, turn petals over in her hand. Sometimes the marigolds would match the glow in her eyes, a testament to the belief you harbored as a child that she had the ability to sprout blossoms from her fingertips.

“The one thing you shouldn’t do, my dear, is rely on forever. Because that, too, is uncertain.”

You wish you hadn’t been so hard headed. Wish that you would’ve believed her, taken the time to listen, cherished the moment a little bit longer instead of relying on the promise of tomorrow.

I’m sorry for your loss.

Your grandmother was a wonderful woman.

She’ll be with you in your heart, forever.

Oh, what a lie forever is.

The shop stays empty for the rest of the day. There were a few passersby, all of whom simply stopped to scan the arrangements along the windows before giving a polite nod and carrying on their way. 

Realistically, the shop has no problem with attracting customers. It’s a sight to behold: mid-floor to ceiling windows with various displays, hanging baskets of winding greenery, countless arrangements that fill the shelves and add a pop of color, and a wide assortment of flowers for each season. 

The real issue lies in your inability to sell. Most people regard the place as being good for nothing more than window shopping and the usual photo-op.

Business has slowed since your Grandma passed; since you took over as the sole owner and were suddenly face to face with the task of making decisions in the shop’s best interest– both integrity wise and from a business standpoint.

“I know, I know,” you say around the pen cap between your teeth, “You used to be the brains around here, not me. I’m not creative enough for all of this, you know? No matter how much I try to be.”

You look up from where your notebook lays open, dozens of scribbles for arrangement ideas and planning. The picture on the wall stares at you, unmoving, eyes as bright as marigolds.

“Don’t give me that look.” 

She stares. A gaze that holds all the answers while also saying nothing at all.

“Ugh.” you groan, leaning your palms on the desk.

You allow your head to hang forward, defeated, exhaustion flooding your bones. 

Just as you’re about to speak again, to complain about yet another thing that probably has her rolling around in her grave, the bell at the front counter dings.

The clock on the desk reads 6:55pm, five minutes until close. You hadn’t even heard anyone come in.

“Be right there!” you call out, rushing to grab your apron from where you’d thrown it on one of the chairs. 

In your haste, the box of seed packets you’d been inventorying goes tumbling to the floor.

“Fuck,” you mutter, bending down to pick everything up. One more thing to add to the list today. 

Off-kilter. Disoriented. Exhausted. 

You sniffle a few times, blinking against the sting behind your eyes as you stand up to put the box back in its place.

One deep breath, a shake of your shoulders. Just enough to chase it all away until later. 

“Sorry about that,” you say cheerily, pushing past the hanging beads that separate the front of the shop from the back. “How can I help you?”

There’s a stranger, his back turned, attention focused on a batch of tulips. Freshly cut. White, blue, purple.

You realize, belatedly, that you’d forgotten to grab your apron in your haste to clean up the seed packets. Another slip up. Nana always prided herself in her apron, wore it like a badge of honor, raised you to do the same.

Just as you spin around to grab it, the stranger says, “It’s okay. I just, um, I wanted to say hi.”

You freeze. There’s a long moment where his voice rings loud in your ears, reverberates against the walls of your brain until it travels through your blood, the feeling like wildfire in your veins until it settles deep in the pit of your stomach. 

Slowly, you turn, heart clamoring in your chest, threatening to stop altogether as soon as you come face to face with the one person you never thought you’d see again.

Because there, at the front of the store, is Jisung.

Jisung, with wide eyes and parted lips. Jisung, with hair that still curls at the ends and falls in shags around his face. Jisung, broader, more actualized, now grown into his features but still undeniably soft around the edges. Jisung, with thick framed glasses pushed up his nose and silver hoops dangling from his ears. 

A stranger. But undoubtedly Jisung. 

“You look…nice.” he says, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly with his free hand.

Three words is all it takes. Ice turns to fire. The blood that had drained from your face returns with the blaze of a thousand suns, anger burning your throat. 

You reach forward, grab the remote for the neon Open sign and click the power button. Jisung watches in confusion.

“The shop is closed.” you manage on a shaky breath.

Jisung sighs, something heavy. “Listen, I’m—”

“The shop–” you try again, louder, “–is closed.” 

Jisung stares. His eyes are still the same velvety brown; big and round and just as you remember. 

There was once a time where the sight of Jisung in your Grandma’s shop made your heart sing. A soft tune, the thrum of a thousand harps, a song only for him.

His heart-shaped smile as he helped her hammer some of the shelves onto the wall. The sound of his laughter whenever you’d enter a sneezing fit from accidentally rubbing your face with a gloved hand. His rosy cheeks, burnt from the wind whipping past his face as he ran on foot to make sure you were okay the one time an angry customer smashed a vase on the floor and you called him crying.

But now, seeing him here, a stranger in a body you once knew like the back of your hand— it feels wrong. 

“I…” he trails off, registering the way your fists are clenched at your sides. 

“Okay,” he resigns, licking his lips. “I, uh– have a good night.”

He gives you one last look, bottom lip pulled tight between his teeth, and then slips out the door. You watch his retreating figure through the glass panel, dark gray skies muting the sound of your rattling heart.

It’s February. The tulips are in bloom. Jisung is back.

And in Jeju– it rains.

There’s an apple tree in the middle of town where Jisung told you he loved you for the first and last time. 

Off the corner, a few minutes down the road from where your houses stand a mere five hundred feet away from one another.

Your grandparents were farmers. Your grandma started her floral business a few years before you were born, a dream she always had that your grandpa urged her to pursue once he decided to sell the animals to a younger, more capable couple that could take care of them. 

Jisung’s parents, new residents on the island, looking to settle down and start a family. 

That’s how it happens. Yours and Jisung’s story, two authors of the same book, destined since the start.

Jisung was born on the same night your mother left you at your grandparents’ doorstep. One note, an apology, is all you’ve ever known about her. Your grandma never cared to indulge you. You’re glad in a way. She provided more than enough love to make sure you never felt an absence in her wake. 

The townspeople used to say you and Jisung were soulmates. Something about the heavens knowing he would need a friend, hence why you were delivered that night. From that moment on, the two of you were inseparable. 

Attached at the hip, you and Jisung grew up together. First steps, first birthdays, firsts for everything under the sun.

Jisung was there in the morning to walk with you to school and he was there at night when the two of you tucked into bed, sleepovers a regular occurrence, both of you counting the pale green stick-on stars dotting his ceiling until you fell asleep. 

Jisung was always around. He held your hand and walked with you to the nurse’s office the first time you got stung by a bee. He wiped your eyes when the boy you liked told you he only ever saw you as a friend, your first rejection. He sat with you under the stars the night your grandpa died, your face tucked into his neck as you stained the collar of his shirt with tears until you were too tired to cry. In the years that followed, he took care of you and your grandma like the two of you were his own. 

Jisung, for lack of a better word, was your first forever.

“You could come with me, you know.” 

Under the stars, real ones that time, Jisung had turned to you and offered the world. 

The air was cold. The apple tree was bare.

“It’ll be fun. We’ll be together, we’ll experience new things. I can do music and you can study all that history stuff you like to learn about. You know, nerdy things.”

“They’re not nerdy things, Ji. Don’t you know everything we have now is because of what’s happened before us?” you’d asked. “Doesn’t it make you wonder? Learning about the past helps us better understand the present, and ultimately the future.”

Jisung had hummed softly, an agreement. “I don’t care about the future, though.” he’d said. “I care about right now. You, me, this.” 

When you turned to look at him, he propped himself up on one elbow and stared down at you from above as the moon casted a halo around his head. 

“I love you,” he whispered, “And I want you to come with me.”

Jisung, with all the stars in his eyes and a heart full of dreams. Jisung, with the world at his fingertips and the ambition to make it his own. 

You, with all your hopes stuffed tight into a suitcase and chained to a boulder, thrown into the ocean. Sinking and sinking until it hit the bottom.

“I love you too,” you whispered back.

Images of marigolds flashed behind your eyes when you closed them, a tear rolling down your cheek. Jisung’s mouth was soft when he kissed it away, salt on his lips. Burning. 

“But I can’t.” you choked. 

Under the apple tree, Jisung told you he loved you for the first and last time. He promised that the distance would be no match for him, that he would traverse oceans to find his way back. He promised forever.

It was February. The tulips were in bloom. Jisung left to pursue his dreams with a guitar on his back and your heart in his hands. Your understanding of forever was shot at point blank. The bullet passed clean through you. 

And in Jeju– it rained.

“I think you should talk to him.”

The sun is out today. Perfect weather for another field harvest. The distributor had called you early in the morning to ask if you’d be willing to accept a drop off even though it’s the weekend. You’d agreed, calling in your most reliable help for the job.

“And I think you’re not helping.” you huff, snipping the head off another hyacinth.

“Agreed,” Hyunjin parrots from beside you, currently in the middle of putting together an arrangement, “This guy sounds like a total dick.”

Chan sighs from behind the two of you, his knees knocking against the legs of the desk when he swivels back and forth in the chair. 

Besides Hyunjin and Jeongin, both of whom moved into town after you’d already graduated, and of course, Jisung– Chan is your oldest friend. 

Chan was also a neighbor of yours. Three years older than you and Jisung, he was the one who acted as a role model for the two of you when growing up. Nowadays he helps his parents run the largest orange grove on the island during the day and DJs one of the clubs in the tourism hub at night. 

“Jisung’s not a dick, he’s just–”

“An asshole.” you finish, smirking when Hyunjin cackles. 

Chan sighs. Again. “Yeah okay, I’ll give you that one.”

“Listen, I know I’ve never met him, but isn’t it weird that he just, like, showed up?” Hyunjin asks, setting down his scissors. You continue trimming the hyacinths, listening halfheartedly.

“I mean, think about it. Dude disappears to pursue music, right? He’s gone for what– three years?”

“Four.” you correct.

“God, even worse.” he grimaces.

“But yeah, okay, four years. And then boom! He just strolls in through the front door without so much as a word during the time he was gone? No letters, no phone calls, not even a damn visit. Nothing! All so he can pop up and go ‘oh, you look nice’? Come on.” he scoffs, crossing his arms.

You wince, caught off guard because you’ve never really heard it phrased as bluntly as Hyunjin put it just then. It’s no surprise that he’s annoyed, having only just heard the full story thirty minutes ago. He’d been shocked, partly because you never told him and also because he just couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

“Okay, yes, he was wrong for that. But isn’t part of you even just the least bit curious as to why?” 

You pause mid-snip, mulling Chan’s words over in your head.

The most frustrating part about it all is that you are curious. You wish you weren’t, though. Not when you’ve spent the past four years trying to convince yourself that you don’t need to know what Jisung’s been up to, don’t need to know if he’s been okay since he clearly held no concern for you in that regard anyways.

“What?” you ask when you realize that both boys are staring at you. 

“Well?” Hyunjin pushes. “Are you?”

You shrug. “No, not really.” 

There’s a total of five seconds that pass before Hyunjin is stomping over and hauling Chan up out of his chair, pushing him towards the front door as he protests.

“Out! Out, out, out, we have important business matters to discuss.”

“But we were supposed to get lunch—!”

“We’re taking a rain check!” Hyunjin fights back, shoving him out of the shop before he has a chance to answer. He drops the shade to cover the glass, Chan’s sad figure left alone on the other side.

You gape at him. “What was that for?”

Hyunjin scoffs. “You think you’re convincing? Think again.” 

He hops up on to the counter and gestures for you to do the same. When you do, he pulls you closer, grabs your hand in his, and pushes your head down until it’s resting on his shoulder. 

“Tell me the truth now,” he says, soft. “I know there’s more to it.”

Hyunjin’s warm to the touch. The heat seeps through the fabric of his shirt, igniting the skin of your cheek until you feel like you’re standing too close to the sun. A star. Hyunjin is a light in your tunnel.

“I am curious,” you start, “About him, I mean. I’ve– I don’t know. It’s been so long. I tried to pretend I didn’t care when I saw him, but the minute I looked into his eyes it was like I was eighteen again. Eighteen and happy and looking at someone that I always thought would be there, you know?” 

Hyunjin hums but doesn’t say anything. He squeezes your hand once, a signal to keep going. 

“I’m scared, though. Part of me doesn’t want to know.”

Hyunjin takes a deep breath. “What are you scared of?”

Through the gaps in the beads you can see into your office, the picture of your Grandma hanging on the wall. She stares at you, unblinking. 

“What if he tells me that it’s true?” you ask, lifting your head to look up at him. “What if he says that I was right, that he didn’t care? That he left and didn’t want to call because it no longer mattered to him? That he loves his life there and only came back to clear his own conscience?” 

“Oh honey,” Hyunjin soothes, pulling you into his chest. You hadn’t realized you were crying, that the anger and fear had bubbled over until there were tears falling down your cheeks, wetting the fabric of Hyunjin’s sweater. 

He lets you cry for a while. It’s nothing new; Hyunjin has seen you break down countless times. He’s been there through the worst of it, held your hand even in the aftermath. He’s picked you up off the floor more times than you can count, has grounded you when you felt like the world was gonna open up beneath you and swallow you whole. Salt of the earth, returning you to its core.

Once you’ve quieted into nothing more than shallow breaths and a few scattered hiccups, Hyunjin speaks again.

“Can you be honest with me?”

You nod, the hair stuck to your cheek with tears rubbing against his shoulder. 

“Do you love him?”

It nearly knocks the wind out of you. This concept, so foreign to you now, shoved to the back of your mind to make room for the things that matter most. Hospital visits, labor cuts, wage increases— none of it left any room for love, let alone the thought of someone else. Especially someone as all-consuming as Jisung.

Slowly, you inhale, breath shaking on the exhale. Hyunjin squeezes your hand to remind you that he’s there.

“I don’t think I ever stopped, Hyune.”

The silence stretches thin. The realization is dizzying. Years of suppressed emotions, of telling yourself and everyone around you that it wasn’t a big deal. The sad eyes of the townspeople whenever they’d see you sitting beneath the apple tree. The gentle touch of your grandma’s hand when she’d find you on the front steps alone, staring at the stars. The soft hum of the radio in the shop, set to a playlist of all the songs he’s written, the only reminder that somewhere out there he was doing well.

The final crack in the dam, its water pushing until it gives way.

“Then you owe it to yourself,” Hyunjin says. “You owe it to your heart to get an answer. Free yourself from this pain, love. Don’t let yourself suffer forever.”

Forever. That word again. No matter how many times you’ve tried to escape it, it always comes back.

“It’s gonna hurt.” he sighs, tightening his grip when you sniffle. “It’s gonna hurt so fucking bad, babe. But you can take it. You’ve got people who love you enough to stand in front of you and soften the blow from time to time. But you’ll be okay. I’ll make sure of it.”

He hops down from the counter and moves to stand in front of you, right between your legs. Placing both hands on your shoulders, he pushes until you’re sitting with your back straight and lifts your chin. 

“You deserve an answer.” he says, with conviction this time. “Okay?”

He lets his thumb swipe beneath your eyes, smiles softly. Unconditional— that’s what he is. Hyunjin burns brighter than any star in your sky, the heat wrapping its arms around you like it’s too scared to let go, to watch you freeze and die out like so many others. 

“I don’t deserve you, though.” you say, laughing wetly when he rolls his eyes.

“Shut up,” he chuckles, pulling you in for a hug, “You deserve everything and more.”

When Jisung comes into the shop two days later, you’re ready for it. 

Chan had talked to him. No surprise, really, not when he’s been letting him crash in his spare room ever since he figured out that he was holed up in one of the hotels out in the tourism hub. 

If there’s one thing about Chan, it’s that he’d rip the shirt off his back to clothe anyone in need. Housing a friend is nothing, especially when that friend is Jisung.

“I don’t know how much of a consolation this is,” he’d said nervously, watching as you regarded him with an expectant look, “But he’s pretty cut up about you not wanting to see him. Which, I know, is stupid. He is the one who fucked up. But I just– I don’t know. I’ve never seen him like this, I guess.”

It’s not a consolation, not really. Knowing that Jisung is struggling is far from anything you want to hear. 

Sure, there’s anger present. Anyone would be stupid to not feel the least bit frustrated with what’s happened. Years lost, time stripped away. But you’ve long since come to terms with it, the anger turning to sadness in the meantime.

“Also, he leaves tomorrow.” Chan smiled sadly. “He really wants to talk to you before then.”

Hyunjin left early again today to give the two of you space. Not before making a show of his own though, threatening to incite violence with his arms that are supposedly ‘shredded’ from years of lifting boxes filled with petunias. 

The shop is slow again, not many sales nor a lot of foot traffic. Usually when the sun is out there’s more to do; people to see, smiles to give. But there’s nothing, just the chirping of birds and the sound of cars rolling by. 

Maybe the world knows that this is what you need. The calm before the storm. 

Five minutes until close. You’ve spent most of the day pacing back and forth. Waiting. Anticipating. 

Chan had said Jisung planned on stopping by, trying again. You’d told him that was okay, and his eyes lit up. Too much hope, maybe, that something might come of this. 

You’re seated in the back office, staring at marigold colored irises when the front door opens. You hear it this time, ears fine tuned, waiting. 

Slowly, you stand, make your way to the front. You don’t realize you’re holding your breath until you pull back the beaded curtain and Jisung’s figure comes into view. 

He looks the same as he did the other day: curled hair, thick glasses, parted lips. His sweater, fluffy and striped, hangs off of his shoulders in a way that boxes off his tapered waist, one that you know is hidden beneath all the layers. The sleeves are way too long judging by the way it curls over his fingers. 

“Hi.” he breathes out, watching as you step into full view.

You blink. “Hi, Jisung.”

His name feels weird on your tongue. Bitter. It’s been years since you uttered it, forbidding yourself from the luxury out of fear that it would make his absence more real. Talking about him in the past tense always scared you off before you could even get the chance. 

“How– How’ve you been?” he chews on the inside of his lip.

You want to scold him, tell him to stop the habit just like you always would in the past. He’d make a joke then, tell you to kiss him so that he had something else to do instead. You would laugh, feign disgust, but in the back of your mind you’d wanted it more than anything. 

You’d waited for it, the day you could kiss him without warning and melt into his touch as he kissed you back. Another stupid bet on forever; the belief that you had all the time in the world for things to get to that point.

“I’ve been better.” you say, taking a deep breath. “What about you?”

Good, you think. He’s been good. He looks good. He doesn’t need this place.

“Me too.” he says instead. “I’ve been better.”

You don’t know what to say to that. Silence fills the room, heavy on both your chests. The anticipation feels like it might kill you before anything else does. 

“I’m sorry that–”

“Is that all you came here to say?” you cut him off.

“What?” he asks, confused. “No, I– no.”

“What, then? What is it you want to say, Jisung?” your voice is firm. He winces when his name leaves your mouth. “Because, honestly, I’ve waited all this time to hear literally anything from you, and if all that comes out of this is that you’ve ‘been better’ I might actually lose my fucking mind.”

The words tumble out faster than you intend. You can’t help it, not with the way anxiety has been bubbling over in your chest since the moment you woke up this morning. You could barely sleep last night, not when you were playing out every possible scenario in your head, the anticipation of it all making your sheets feel scratchy against your skin and the lumps in your pillow more discernible. 

“No, no, of course I wouldn’t do that.” he says quickly. “It's just that I didn’t know where to start. I don’t know how much you’ll allow me to say, what the boundary is here. I didn’t want to just barge in and demand you listen to me. You don’t owe me that. You don’t owe me anything. Not after what I did.”

What I did, his voice rings loud in your ears. He’s aware of it, of the pain he caused. 

He takes a step forward, and then another, again and again until he’s right up against the front counter, an arm’s length away. 

Your breath catches then, when you see him up close for the first time in four years, see the way he’s grown and changed with your own eyes. 

Stubble dotting his chin, laugh lines around his mouth, the dip and curve of the bow above his lips that you always loved. Brown eyes, soil and stardust. 

“Tell me what your conditions are,” he says quietly, “And I’ll give you every explanation I have.”

The sincerity on his face is blinding. Your stomach twists at the thought of hearing what he has to say, that same fear brewing in the pit of it. You take a deep breath, feel the phantom ghost of a hand squeezing yours and a crescent moon eye smile. 

“I waited four years for you.” you say.

“I know.”

“I trusted that you’d be back. That you would keep in touch during the time you were gone.”

“I–” his voice cracks. “I know.”

“You lied to me.”

Jisung tips his head back then. Swallows down a lump in his throat. Blinks rapidly at the ceiling, veins of ivy crawling along the expanse of it.

“I know.”

“So you owe me everything. I deserve that. I deserve answers.”

When he brings his head down to look at you, it’s unreadable. A mix of emotions that you aren’t familiar enough with anymore to decipher. Fear, guilt, sorrow. Hope, too. Maybe.

You stare at him head on, fully letting your eyes meet for the first time in what feels like an eternity. He holds your gaze, unwavering. Determined. The sight makes your heart clench. 

“Okay,” he says after a beat of silence. “Okay. I can do that.”

Despite the ever-growing mountain of things to address, you decide that the first thing you want to hear from Jisung is about his time in Seoul. 

You’re only human, after all.

Best friends from the start– you can’t stop yourself from wondering what life has been like for him. Jisung’s always been good at storytelling, animated in his features and gestures to the point that you’d be rolling around and clutching your stomach from laughter. It’s one of the things you missed the most, just talking and being present in one another’s lives.

The two of you end up at one of the diners down the road. The owners, an elderly couple, coo as soon as they catch sight of you.

“My flower girl,” the old lady, Mrs. Kim, greets.

“Mrs. Kim,” you beam, moving in for a hug. When you pull away, Jisung is behind you, hands clasped behind his back and feet together like he has his tail between his legs.

“Halmeoni,” you say, gesturing at him, “Do you remember Jisungie?” 

His eyes go wide at the nickname, and you try to ignore the heat creeping up your neck, avoiding his gaze and instead watching as Mrs. Kim blinks in surprise.

“Oh! Oh my goodness, our Jisungie? Honey! Honey, look, Jisung is here! Oh you crazy boy,” she scolds, rushing forward to hit his shoulder and pull him in for a hug. “Where have you been? It’s been ages!” 

Jisung lets out an oof! as her body slams into him, all of his anxiousness dissolving into laughter as he hugs her back. 

“Hi Mrs. Kim, how have you been?” 

“Me?” she asks, pulling him away to hold at arm’s length, “Nevermind about me! I’m old! How have you been?”

Good, you think again, a mimic of earlier. Jisungs eyes flit over to yours for the smallest of moments before he answers.

“Better,” he says. “I’m doing better.”

Once both Mr. and Mrs. Kim are done doting over the both of you, they seat you by the window.

The island is always beautiful on sunny days: trees swaying, golden rays painting the rooftops in hues of pink and orange, the indigo shimmer of the ocean off in the distance.

“So,” you say, catching Jisung’s attention, “Tell me about Seoul.”

He hums. “It’s busy. Stinks. Lots of people.”

“Dream come true, yeah?” you joke, taking a sip of your water.

Jisung chuckles. “You could say that, I guess.”

“I mean, it was yours.”

“It was.” he sighs, looking down at the table. “I don’t know. It’s nice. I met good people, made even better connections. I live in this one bedroom studio apartment just outside of Itaewon, so I’m close to where all the foreigners hang out. I’ve learned a lot, gained a lot of inspiration for my music.”

You follow along, staring at him intently. His mouth, still heart-shaped, twitches when he catches you in the act.

You clear your throat, glancing away. “Yeah, I’ve– uh, I’ve heard some of your songs.”

He raises his eyebrows, almost like he hadn’t expected you to say that. “Really?”

“Yeah. I mean, I hear them on the radio sometimes.” A lie. “It usually takes me a second to realize that it’s you.” Another lie. “But they’re good, you’re doing well.”

Pink dusts the tops of Jisung’s cheeks as he turns back to the window, clearing his throat.

He looks younger like this, like he’s still the same boy who would sit across from you all those years ago. Cherry-stained lips and a smile so bright it put the sun to shame.

He talks a bit more about his music, about how he’s with a good company that gives him creative freedom and enough support to pursue more if he desires.

His eyes light up when he tells you about his studio, a small room on the fifth floor of a building in the middle of the city where he does all of his writing. It’s equipped with an entire soundboard, full of instruments that he says he’s been able to get signed by artists that come in and out. Most notably, his guitar, the same one he left with. 

Slowly, like a flower blossoming, petals opening one by one, you feel yourself falling back into step with him.

Everything is so familiar: the curve of his smile, the tilt in his voice when he gets excited, the rumble of laughter when he recounts an embarrassing run-in with an A-list celebrity in the company’s cafeteria. He shares stories that fill your heart as the two of you fill your stomachs.

But with the ease comes something more, something you recognize as longing. You hadn’t realized how much you longed to be there through this part of his life, how you wished you’d been the one to answer a video call as he showed off his apartment the first day he moved in, his company badge when it was newly issued, every moment of happiness that you’d been absent for just as much as he was absent for yours.

He seems to share the same sentiment then, when he sets down his fork and stares at his empty plate. 

“You run the shop now,” he says, “How’s that been?”

You purse your lips, nodding your head slowly. You knew this conversation would happen, that it was coming.

“It’s good, I guess. Been almost a year now since, uh, it was left to me.” you shrug. “I’m not alone though, Hyunjin is a big help. I don’t know what I’d do without him.”

Jisung noticeably bristles. Eyebrows pulled together, staring more intently at a crumb on his plate. It looks like there’s a lot he wants to say, like he can’t find the words to say them.

So, naturally, you do it for him. 

“I assume Chan told you so I wouldn’t have to, by the way.”

He looks up then, as if he wasn’t expecting you to address the very obvious elephant in the room.

“He did, yes.” Jisung says after a while. His voice is quiet, gentle, like he’s walking on eggshells. “I– I didn’t know how to bring it up. I assume you’ve heard it all already but– I really, really am sorry to hear about Nana.”

The way her name sounds coming out of his mouth turns your mind to static.

Suddenly you’re in the hospital again, monitors beeping, hands as soft as petals cradled in your own and wishing that you could bury your face in a familiar neck as you cried and watched the marigolds wilt. 

“I don’t need an apology for that.” you croak, blinking back tears. Jisung is somewhere in your periphery, your vision blurry around the edges.

“It wasn’t sad. Her life, I mean. It was full. Of love. Of light. She left this place happy. That’s what she told me, at least.”

You take a deep breath. “So don’t be sorry about it.”

Jisung sniffles, and the sound shoots straight through your chest. 

“I know. I just– I’m sorry I wasn’t here. I should’ve been. I had no idea that–”

“Nobody did, Jisung. Don’t punish yourself for that.”

He sees it then, when you finally meet his eyes, the acceptance. You’ve come to terms with things a long time ago, have fought tooth and nail to come out on the other side of all the guilt and resentment and grief alive. Scathed, but alive nonetheless.

“You’re right.” he sighs, wiping at his eyes quickly. “She’d probably yell at me for saying that.”

You laugh, suddenly, the noise startling him. Jisung looks at you like you’re crazy.

“I think she has a lot more to yell at you for than being sorry that she died.”

The bluntness punches a chuckle out of him, and you giggle at the thought.

Your grandmother was always such an outspoken person. She always said what was on her mind, speaking it loud. There’s no doubt that if she was here she’d be berating Jisung, smacking him upside the head before pulling him into a hug and cooking his favorite meal. Tough love, but still, love.

“She would’ve loved to be able to see you.” you say once your laughter dies out, the air a bit lighter between the two of you. “She always wondered if you’d grow your hair out without her around to nag you about keeping it short.” 

He reaches up to run a hand through his curls, the strands falling around his face in a way that has your heart stammering in your chest.

“Well, clearly I don’t know how to listen.”

“No, you don’t.”

Jisung smiles softly. “Maybe I’ll cut it now. You know, since I’m here. And because I know she’d want me to.”

You watch him carefully, searching his eyes. For what, you don’t know. All that’s in them are stars. 

“Yeah,” you say quietly. “You’re here.”

By the time the two of you leave the diner, stomachs full and enough bags of extra side dishes hanging off of your arms to last you at least two weeks, courtesy of Mrs. Kim, the sun is almost fully set. 

The ocean is calm, the evening breeze just barely brushing the surface of the tide. Jisung walks in step with you down the street, one side of his face cast in a glow from the sun’s fading rays. 

“Do you think you’d maybe want to stop by the arcade that Old Man Park runs? Just for a little?”

You snort. “Why? So I can embarrass you?”

“Hey!” he puts a hand on his chest, offended. “I’ll have you know that I let you win all those times.”

“How do you let someone win after spending hours practicing while I worked at the shop?”

“I was being nice!”

“Uh huh.”

“Don’t believe me?” he grins. You try not to look, afraid of how bad your blood pressure might spike from the sight. 

“I’ll have you know that I’m one of the best Kart Rider players in the PC Bang scene back in Seoul.”

“Jisung,” you scold, “That’s a computer game. These are coin-ops. There’s way more skill needed.”

“No there isn’t!”

He knocks his shoulder against yours, tucking his chin to his chest to hide his smile when you try to fight back.

It’s easy. Nice. There’s a soft melody echoing in the dust-covered chambers of your heart. You still know all the chords.

Old Man Park’s arcade is a few doors down from the shop. You stop there to drop off the food, spare a glance in the mirror hanging in your office to fix your hair.

Your grandma’s picture stares at you from the other wall, eyes bright.

“Love you,” you say, kissing the skin of your fingertips and pressing it gently against the frame.

Jisung is toeing at a few rocks on the sidewalk when you walk back out. He doesn’t see you, too busy with his eyes casted down at the concrete, hands shoved into his pockets. 

It’s still hard to believe that he’s here. Flesh and bone. For a long time it felt like he was nothing but a distant dream, someone who only existed in the memories that you kept locked deep within your heart, the key somewhere on the streets of Seoul.

“Ready?” you ask.

He looks up, his glasses moving when his cheeks round into a smile.

Something passes across his face– a myriad of emotions in just a fraction of a second. Hesitantly, he holds out his hand. Long, delicate fingers.

You stare at it, swallowing roughly around the butterfly wings flapping inside your throat. 

The one thing you shouldn’t do, my dear, is rely on forever. Because that, too, is uncertain.

Forever isn’t promised. But even then, there are things you know for sure:

It’s February. The tulips are in bloom. Jisung is here. Living, breathing, in the flesh. 

So you take his hand, watch as relief floods his features, and let yourself feel.

The wind in your hair, the calluses on Jisung’s palms, and the warmth radiating out of the smile that threatens to split his face into two.

And with that certainty, the two of you start walking. A silent agreement to focus on the now.

You. Him. This.

“God, I can’t believe everything is only one coin.”

You laugh, watching as the multi-colored lights cast a glow on Jisung’s face. 

“Stop acting like you don’t remember this place.”

“I don’t!” he argues, smiling. “We stopped coming here, what, in middle school? Once Chan hyung started driving? We would always ask him to take us to the other one out in the big town!”

Chan’s first car was an old Camry with leather seats and enough room for the three of you to pile into after school. Used, but still with enough juice to satisfy three young kids who felt like they were on top of the world.

You used to sit in the back, the wind whipping your hair every which way while yours and Jisung’s hands lay side by side in the middle seat, pinkies brushing but neither of you willing to take it further. 

“Oh, shit!” Jisung gasps, letting go of your hand as he runs up to the space invaders machine. 

“Here we go,” you sigh, following after him. He’s like a kid in a candy store, face filled with innocent wonder and joy.

“Aren’t there, like, I don’t know– things better than this in Seoul?” you ask as he shoves a coin into the game.

Jisung turns to look at you with a devilish grin. “Obviously,” he says, “But I can’t beat anyone’s high score over there. Here though? Ha! This place is ancient. I can finally be at the top of the leaderboard in something.”

“We’ll see about that.” you mumble, the noise of the game booting up drowning you out. 

Jisung sticks his tongue out when he focuses really hard on things. It’s cute, the way the end of it sits between his lips, spit-slick and parted just a little bit.

He’s glowing, probably because of the lights, hues of red and green and blue flashing across his face. But then again, Jisung has always shined brighter than anything. 

The game beeps to signal that he has one life left. He grunts a few times, his fingers tapping the buttons madly as his other hand handles the joystick in a frenzy of movements.

When it ends, he groans, throws his hands up in defeat.. 

You shake your own head knowingly, watching his eyes bug out of their sockets as soon as the leaderboard appears on the screen, the 8-bit letters blinking at him. 

“You’re joking.” he laughs in disbelief, turning to stare at you. “Please tell me you’re joking.” 

There, on the screen, is your name. The highest score. Jeongin and Hyunjin’s names sit just below you, respectively.

“What was that again about finally being able to be at the top?” you mock him, smirking.

“Since when did you get good at this?”

You shrug. “Had to find something to do in my free time.”

“No,” he says, rolling up his sleeves. “Nuh-uh. No way. This is not happening. I will beat you.” he holds out his hand for another coin, to which you roll your eyes and place one in his palm. 

“You might as well give up now. We’ll be here all night.”

“In your dreams.” he scoffs, assuming his position as another round loads onto the screen.  

Jisung has always been competitive. It’s one of his more hidden characteristics. 

It persists still, you realize, as you watch him burn through the styrofoam cup of coins that Old Man Park had given the two of you. Free of charge for old time’s sake.

Fort-five minutes. All he’s managed to do is bump Hyunjin down to fourth.

“Ugh!” he groans, kicking the machine lightly with his foot. 

“Look at you throwing a tantrum.”

“I’m not throwing a tantrum.” he pouts. You raise an eyebrow.

“Okay fine. I’m throwing a tantrum.” 

“Thought so.”

“Can you blame me?” he asks. “This is, like, our first date. And I’m sucking. Hard.”

“Our–” you stop, eyes wide. Jisung mimics you, almost like he didn’t mean to say what he did. 

Heat rushes to your cheeks. Your mind goes blank. But the world doesn’t end. Time keeps moving. Jisung is still here.

“I didn’t–”

“I like the sound of that.” you say quickly. “Of this being our first date, I mean.’

He smiles. Slow and sweet like molasses. Blinding.

“And the fact that you suck.”

The moment is shattered, his resulting whine echoing throughout the arcade.

“Come on you big baby,” you laugh, grabbing his hand. “I know a game you can beat me at.”

He lets himself be pulled, pretending that he’s upset, but you can see the smile tugging at his lips when you lace your fingers together.

The feeling is still new, this ease you have with him. The wounds you sported all those years are still healing, some more fresh than others. But with each laugh that comes out of Jisung’s mouth and shared glance, every note that your heart sings, you can feel them beginning to fade. A balm to soothe the burn.

The Pac-Man game is situated in the back corner of the arcade, right next to the jukebox. It used to be your favorite, because Jisung would always use his own coins to play songs for you while you tried to score higher than twenty-five thousand points. 

When you get there, he frowns. “The only game you think I can beat you at is Pac-Man?” 

“I don’t think,” you say, grabbing a coin before shoving the cup into his chest. “I know.”

The game boots up instantly, and you smile softly to yourself when Jisung moves wordlessly behind you, slips a coin into the jukebox.

“Play something good, Jisungie.”

He freezes. Out of the corner of your eye you watch him stare at you for a long moment. And then he smiles. Stardust.

“You got it.”

In a matter of seconds, Lovers In A Dangerous Time by Bruce Cockburn rings throughout the arcade, the speakers on the ceiling fighting past the static.

An old song. The same one your grandparents would dance to in the mornings, eggs on the stove and love in the air.

Your grandma used to say it was written for them, because when they fell in love the war was at its peak and she didn’t know if he’d ever come home. 

After he passed, she still played it, except those times it was Jisung who twirled her around and painted a smile on her face as you watched from the same spot you grew up in. Always there.

Jisung, Jisung, Jisung. 

When the game starts, you try your best. It’s hard. You’ve always been terrible at anything involving quick decisions. Focusing on everything at once isn’t easy for you, that much is still true. 

“Shit.” you mumble, the top right corner of the screen reading ten thousand points as the ghosts run into you.

Jisung lets out a low whistle. “Harsh.”

“You wanna go back to space invaders and waste the last of our money?” you raise an eyebrow. 

He holds his hands up in surrender. “Sorry, sorry. Go ahead.” he says, holding the cup out for you to take another coin. 

You try a couple more times, failing each and every one. You can tell that Jisung is growing more and more amused with every attempt, and the smugness radiating off of him is starting to rub you the wrong way.

“If you’re so good,” you say after a particularly sad attempt, turning to glare at him. Jisung has his lips pulled tight to stop himself from laughing. “Then why don’t you try?”

He chuckles then. “I’d rather help you, if you’ll let me.”

“How are you supposed to do that? We only have one coin left.”

Jisung doesn’t say anything. He puts the cup down, the last coin held between his fingers. You watch as he slips it into the machine, move to get out of his way once he’s done, but he stops you by grabbing your hand and spinning you back around, his fingers placed over yours on the joystick. 

With your back flush against his front, caged in by his arms on either side, Jisung takes a deep breath.

“This okay?” he asks right next to your ear, the curls on the side of his head brushing your cheek when he leans down to get a better look at the screen.

Warm. He’s so warm. The material of his sweater only worsens the heat, and the faint scent of vanilla makes your head swim.

It’s more than okay. Great, even. It’s Jisung. Everything and more.

“Yeah,” you say, letting him control your hands as he flicks the joystick. “It’s okay.”

The hair against your cheek moves when he smiles. “Good.” he says, and then hits the start button.

The game begins but you’re barely processing what’s happening, too aware of the feeling of his body pressed against yours. 

A firm chest, different from what’s observable on the outside, what with the fluffiness of his sweater and soft features. His arms too, encasing you, the bulge and flex of his biceps every time he moves.

It’s all so intoxicating, so much so that you don’t even realize you’ve beaten the highest score in the system by the time he loses his last life. 

“What?” you blink. “What the hell?!”

You laugh, spinning to face Jisung who’s grinning from ear to ear. In your excitement, you jump, flinging your arms around his neck. He’s surprised, but catches you nonetheless, circling his arms around your waist.

“Holy shit how’d you do that!” you squeal while he swings you around, feet off the ground.

“Magic, I guess.” he chuckles. 

The closeness of his voice brings you crashing back down, suddenly aware of what position you’re both in. You pull back quickly, clear your throat, and watch as his face falls from the loss of contact.

It’s been a long time since you hugged Jisung. The thought transports you to that day four years ago, standing under the apple tree, the future uncertain. Forever promised.

Things are different now.

“Sorry,” he backtracks. “I didn’t– um, I wasn’t trying to–”

You cut him off by throwing yourself at him for a second time. Intentional. Breathless. Tired of running and acting like it’s not the thing you want most in the entire world.

Jisung doesn’t react until he feels your face against the skin of his neck. On instinct, he hugs tight, hands around your waist, breathing in the smell of your hair.

“Hi.” you whisper against him. 

One word. Simple. However the weight of it sends a chill down his spine. It feels like home. 

He tightens his hold. A silent understanding. The two of you never had much of a need for words anyways. 

“Hi.” he whispers back.

The apple tree is much bigger now.

Long, thick branches, a wide trunk, a slight tilt in its shape.

It’s bare. The season is long gone. But it’s okay, because it means that the view of the stars isn’t blocked when you and Jisung lay beneath it.

It’s the same but it isn’t. There’s gaps– periods of time where the two of you grew separately. There are moments and memories tucked away that neither of you know about, whole lives to discover. 

But even so, it feels right. His arm wrapped around you, your head on his chest. The stars and the moon. You and Jisung.

It’s nice. Perfect, even. But there’s a conversation that needs to be had. One that can’t be put off any longer.

“Ji.”

“Hm?”

“Can I ask you something?”

Jisung shifts beneath you, tightening his hold. The grass is damp. Neither of you care, too caught up in each other to stress about whether or not it’ll stain.

“Of course.”

“Am I ever gonna see you again?”

He takes a deep breath. “Yes.”

“You said that last time.”

“I know.”

“So what makes this different?” you ask, sitting up. He watches you carefully, eyes trained on every movement like he’s scared you’ll get up and run away.

When he realizes you’re waiting for an answer, he sits up too, pulls his knees to his chest and wraps his arms around his legs. 

He doesn’t say anything, just wordlessly reaches into his pocket. Silently, he hands whatever he grabbed to you. A guitar pick.

It’s white, a marbled design. Golden flecks infused into the lines. There, on the front, is a singular marigold. When you flip it over, you’re met with a tulip. 

“Do you remember that one time, when you called me crying at midnight because Nana told you that she didn’t know if she’d be able to afford school in the city?”

You nod silently, still turning the guitar pick over in your hand. 

It was one of those nights where the rain was relentless. Monsoon season always tagged on to the tail end of the school year, bringing with it a more intense gloominess than usual. 

You’d been angry. Stressed. Irritated that other kids at school were making plans to go to the mainland for college and you were stuck helping your grandmother trim foliage and wrap vases in newspaper.

“You told me that you couldn’t do it anymore.” Jisung whispered, staring up at the sky. “That you were tired of being here. That you needed to get out.”

You remember. Jisung had walked through the rain to show up at your window. Had climbed in with muddy shoes and sat on the floor of your room with you until the downpour stopped and your tears dried.

“And I said that I would make it happen, that I would invent a way to live amongst the stars so you could be as far from here as possible.”

“So what?” you ask, looking at him. “Did you finally do it, then? Is that why you came back?”

“Don’t be like that.”

“No, Jisung, I’m gonna fucking be like that.” you scoff, rising to your feet. 

There’s a fire in your veins, stoked until the embers are burning hot against your throat. Too good to be true. You should’ve known that there was no explanation left for him to give.

Jisung scrambles to his feet. “It wasn’t like I wanted to–”

“Oh like hell you did.” you say, turning to face him. “Four years, Jisung. I waited four years and you just– you come back and decide to tell me about some make-believe bullshit to save yourself and feel less guilty about the fact that you left.”

“It wasn’t make-believe to me,” he argues. “It was real. Everything I said was real. I left and I tried for years to make something of myself so I could come back here and get you.”

“Oh so it’s my fault? I made you leave, is that it?”

“That’s not what I said.”

“So then say something else!” you yell. The stars rumble, threatening to fall out of the sky. “Say something else, then, Jisung. Why didn’t you call? Huh?”

“Because I–” he stops, licks his lips. “God. Fuck. I couldn’t face you if I had nothing to show for myself, okay? It wasn’t fair to you for me to leave you behind just so I could fail.”

“Ha!” you laugh, running a hand through your hair in disbelief. “So you decided to go radio silent instead? Decided to not only leave me alone but let me suffer and wonder about where you were because that’s so much better than telling me that you were struggling, right? Great choice, Jisung. Really.”

He blinks a few times, watching as you pace back and forth in the grass. 

Anger bubbles deep in your gut. This whole time, he knew. It was a conscious decision. Jisung deliberately didn’t contact you because he chose not to.

“Did you ever even love me?”

The words tumble out before you can stop them. Jisung’s entire body goes rigid, his face falling and eyes hardening within a fraction of a second.

“Watch what you say.” he says, his voice low in his chest.

“I wouldn’t have to if you’d just be honest.”

“I’m trying.” he pleads. His eyes are glossy. Big and round behind his glasses. Illuminated by the moon. 

“I fucked up, okay? I prioritized myself and the way I felt over you and fucked everything up. But I tried. I tried so fucking hard. And I’m sorry it took me so long but I wanted– no–  I needed to make sure that I had everything figured out before I came back. I promised I would.”

“No, Jisung, you promised me that–”

“I’m not talking about you.” he says then, taking a deep breath. “You weren’t the only one I made promises to back then.”

Before you have a chance to speak, Jisung says, “I promised her. I told her I’d get you out of here. That I’d give you a life that you deserved, because she knew she couldn’t.”

You drop to your knees when the first sob hits, the force of it racking your body so hard you feel like you’re drowning. Jisung catches you on the fall, holds you up, lets you bury your face into his neck like he had so many times before.

“She told me you believed in forever. She wanted me to give that to you. I’m sorry it took me so long.”

Jisung lets you cry. He holds you through the storm, your wails as loud as thunder and tears as heavy as rain. Four years in the making; the sky and the earth colliding until the dirt and layers of sediment give way to the molten core that’s been hiding beneath the surface all along.

Pain. Grief. All of it pent up and leading to this moment. 

“You should’ve told me.” you cry, beating a fist into Jisung’s chest. “You idiot. You fucking idiot. You should’ve told me.” 

Jisung pulls you in closer, takes each hit as long as it means that it’ll soften the blow on your heart. He whispers apologies in your ear, runs a hand through your hair. 

When it quiets again, the worst of the storm gone, he shifts so that your head is in his lap, his legs crossed and tucked beneath him. A few stray tears wet the fabric of his jeans, your eyes focused on the field of flowers across the street.

“I won’t ask you to come with me.” he says after a long while, when your breathing has evened out. “I know that things are different. You have a life here that you’ve made for yourself, responsibilities to bear as well.”

He pauses to push a few strands of hair out of your face. His fingers are gentle against the skin of your cheek.

“But I promise it’ll be different. I spent too long away from you, was too selfish for my own good. I won’t disappear again. I’ll call every day. I’ll visit. You’ll get every part of me that I kept away from you all this time, and I’ll get every part of you in return.”

Your heart thrums. The thought of having what you’ve wanted for so long. Of having Jisung.

“And when you’re ready, when you feel like you can’t do it anymore, there’ll be a place for you.”

His voice is firm. Confident. More sure than he’s ever sounded before in his life.

When you turn to face him, he’s already staring back. Jisung, with all the stars in his eyes and a heart full of dreams. Jisung, with the world at his fingertips and the offer to make it yours.

Under the apple tree, Jisung leans down and kisses you for the first time. Twenty four years in the making, soft and slow, his lips a perfect fit against yours. A starboy and his flower girl. His glow is so bright it makes blossoms sprout from her fingertips.

Soft curls tickle your eyelids when he pulls away to rest his forehead against yours. You reach up to run a hand through them, smiling softly when he presses a kiss to the tip of your nose. 

“I love you.” you say first this time. 

He reaches out a hand, closes it over your fist that’s still clutching the guitar pick. A marigold and a tulip, both working together to make a perfect harmony. 

“I love you, too.” Jisung whispers back. “Forever.”

Jisung stops by the shop early to say goodbye.

There’s less tears this time, less of a reason to be sad. But still, when he wraps his arms around you, vanilla filling your nose and curls against your face, you feel your composure crumble.

“Every day.” he says, repeating the same thing he did all night. “I promise. Morning and night. Also at lunch. Oh, and on your days off. Matter of fact, you can call when you’re on the toilet too.”

The last part earns him an elbow to the ribs, his laughter bubbling up and out of his throat as he tries to dodge any and all subsequent attacks.

He kisses you stupid before he goes, Chan rolling his eyes from his car out front. You flip him off blindly, Jisung’s lips still attached to yours, earning a loud honk in response.

When he leaves, the shop is quiet, the only sound being the buzzing of your phone as Jisung blows it up with text messages the second the car pulls away.

You’re too busy replying, giggling to yourself when a slew of cute emoticons start appearing one by one, that you nearly fall over out of your chair when Hyunjin bursts through the door.

“Jesus Christ Hyune, did you have to–”

“What the hell are you doing here?” he asks, breathless. 

“Uh,” you blink, glancing round. “Working?”

“Is Jisung not on a damn plane right now?”

“I mean he’s on his way to the airport. Chan is–”

“Chan hyung told me that Jisung wanted you to go with him.” Hyunjin says, brow furrowed.

You sigh. “He didn’t want me to go with him. Well, okay, he did. But I told him I can’t just pick up and leave. He knows that. Nana left this place to me and–”

“You are so stupid.” Hyunjin sighs. 

“Excuse me?” you ask. You stand up, crossing your arms as you walk closer to the counter. 

“Come on. We have to go.”

“Go where, Hyunjin? I’m not leaving to–”

He cuts you off, places an envelope on the wooden surface. “And I am not letting you stay here and pretend that this is what you want.”

“What is that?” 

“A plane ticket.” he says, pushing it towards you. “To Seoul.”

Your mouth opens and closes, lost for words. Hyunjin is already moving around the counter, pushing past you with an expression the most serious you’ve ever seen on him.

“Hyunjin I– I can’t– where did you even…?”

“Chan hyung has a friend.” he mumbles as he begins pulling stuff out of the office. Your planning notebook, your apron, the picture of your grandma off the wall. All of it thrown into a small box he managed to snag from somewhere off to the side.

“His name is Seungmin or something. Met him out in the tourist hub. Dude’s super rich with tons of miles and apparently owed Chan for a drunken night where he needed to be escorted to his hotel. So thanks to him, you’re leaving.” he explains as he grabs the box with both hands and starts walking towards the door.

“Wait.” you stop him, watching as he turns to regard you with a look that says his patience is running thin. 

“I told you I can’t leave, Hyunjin. This place is where I need to be.”

He huffs, places the box on the ground in front of him. His hair falls in waves around his face, a shimmery dark brown beneath the rays of the sun poking into the room. 

“Can you be honest with me?” he asks. 

You nod, slowly. 

“Do you love him?”

Hyunjin watches you with careful eyes. Reads you like a book, something he’s always been good at. You don’t doubt that it’s written on your face. Star-kissed cheeks and eyes as bright as marigolds. 

“So much that it hurts, Hyune.”

Hyunjin smiles, eyes watery. “Then you deserve to go. You deserve your chance to be free. Don’t worry about this place, I’ll take care of it.”

The familiar sting of tears sits behind your eyes. Your heart swells full of love for this friend, this light, this beacon of unconditional love in the shape of your best friend.

“I don’t have clothes.” you manage to say around the lump in your throat.

Hyunjin shakes his head, tears spilling down the bridge of his nose. 

“I’ll send them to you.”

“There’s a lot to do around here for just one person. What if you need me?”

“I’ll manage.” 

You round the corner quickly, throwing yourself into his chest. He catches you with ease, wraps his arms around your body as the both of you cry into each other.

“I’ll miss you.” you say weakly.

Hyunjin’s throat bobs against the top of your head. “I’ll always be here in our little corner of the world.”

The two of you stay like that for a while. Hyunjin’s warmth seeps into your skin, lights you ablaze. By the time he pulls away, his hands on your shoulders, you feel like you’re floating. Unreal.

“I don’t have a way to get there.” you say quickly, glancing at the clock. 

Jisung’s plane leaves soon. The airport, the only one on the island, is a thirty minute drive. You’re at a disadvantage the more time you spend not moving. 

“Don’t worry,” Hyunjin chuckles. “I’ve got that taken care of.”

You open your mouth to ask him what he means when you’re cut off by the sound of honking from outside. Confused, you run to the door, your jaw dropping as soon as you realize who’s waiting for you.

“Hurry up people we don’t have all day!” Jeongin calls, his upper body hanging out of the window. He’s parked outside in a beat-up truck, arms waving wildly when he spots you.

“Innie!” you scream, pushing through the door to run at him. He jumps out of the truck just in time for you to barrel into his chest, laughter loud in your ears as he spins you around. 

“You’re here! Oh my god I thought you weren’t coming for another two weeks.” you say in disbelief once he puts you down.

He looks older, more sophisticated. His hair is rusted and falls past his ears, the ends just barely touching his shoulders. 

“Yeah, well,” he shrugs. “I figured I’d show up earlier. You know, see you before you leave, catch up with my parents, help Hyunjin break into your house. The usual.”

“Help Hyunjin break into my what–” you say, but you stop when your eyes fall on the small suitcase in the backseat. Your own bag, the one that’s been sitting in your closet untouched for years now.

“For the last time,” Hyunjin says from behind you, carrying the box in his arms. “It’s not breaking and entering if I have a key. Which, by the way, I told you would come in handy one day.”

He sets the box down next to the luggage and dusts his hands on his pants. When he turns to face you, he’s smiling, eyes disappearing into crescent moons.

With tears threatening to spill once again, you stare at the both of them, your heart bursting at the seams. “I love you guys.”

Jeongin grimaces, opts for getting back in the driver’s seat as you laugh. Hyunjin rolls his eyes and ushers you inside of the truck.

“Yeah, yeah. Save it.” he says. “Right now, you have a plane to catch.”

The airport is crowded. 

There are tons of people everywhere, some saying hello and some saying goodbye. Hyunjin explained the gate system to you before you left him and Jeongin on the curb, and you keep glancing down at your ticket to make sure none of the information has changed in the past thirty seconds since you last looked. 

Thankfully, your gate isn’t far. With twenty minutes to go until boarding, you can feel the sweat building up beneath the hand that’s curled around your suitcase handle. 

It’s scary thinking about the fact that this is it. That you’re finally leaving. 

It’s bittersweet, too. There’s an excitement in the pit of your stomach as well as a feeling of dread in your chest, both of them meeting in the middle somewhere. 

You let your eyes scan the crowd, searching for wavy hair and thick-rimmed glasses. However, the first thing you see is the familiar neck of a guitar, strapped right on to a back that you would know and recognize anywhere without warning.

Jisung is seated near the gate, his eyebrows furrowed and lips set in a pout as he glares down at his phone. You realize that he’s probably wondering why you won’t answer, why all of his emoticons are going ignored. 

Quietly, you come up behind him, reach into your pocket, and say, “Excuse me? I think you dropped this.”

Jisung startles, his eyes falling on to the guitar pick being held out in your hand. Slowly, he lets his gaze follow upwards, wide-eyed and shocked.

“What– what are you doing here?” he asks. 

You place the pick in his hand. “I'm on my way to Seoul. There’s a guy there that I’ve been trying to find for a while.” you say. 

Jisung catches on quickly. “Oh, really?” he asks, moving over so you can sit beside him. “This guy must be pretty great if you’re leaving for the mainland.”

The rain starts hitting the tarmac outside right as you sit down. “Hm, yeah. He is. He really likes the stars. He says that he found a way for me to live in them, too.” 

He laughs, the sound making your stomach flip. “Sounds like you’re excited.”

You nod. “I am. He promised me that we’d do a lot together, experience new things. Apparently he’s gonna write songs and I’m gonna be a nerd.”

Jisung snorts and reaches across to link his hand with yours.

“He’s really lucky.” he says, leaning over to plant a kiss on your lips.

You smile into it. “So am I.” you whisper into his mouth, your heart stuffed to the brim with flower petals. 

And when Jisung smiles back, his other hand coming up to cup your cheek and give you another kiss with the force of a thousand suns, you feel the key you’d been searching for finally click into place. 

Salt of the earth. Soil and stardust. A boy who glows so bright that his girl sprouts blossoms from her fingertips. 

Forever isn’t promised. But then again, with Jisung by your side, there are things you know for certain:

It’s February. The tulips are in bloom. In Jeju– it rains.

And no matter what, despite all odds, you and Jisung will always find your way back to each other in the place where marigolds grow.

[tags: @skzstarnet @snowyquokka @palindrome969 @summergirlsmj @n1staytiny @drhsthl @strwbrrychannie @shays-library @giuliadesu @iknowyouknowminho @linocz @pynchkilledme @jisunglyricist @itsgghowitsgg @alician87 @skzms @meloncremesoda @ilychee08 @allaboutsan @legally-lixs @stayceebs97 @candyquokka @chans1aptop @liknws @realrintaro @beeracha @vxllxnsworld @feelikecinderella @caitxx1 @lilac13 @sebastianswhore13 @classiclitandmemes @hyunverse @linosazuna @lastgreatamericandynasty1 @bubbly-moon @cookiesandcreammy ]

#skzstarnet #han x reader #jisung x reader #han jisung x reader #han angst #jisung angst #han jisung angst #han fluff #han jisung fluff #jisung fluff #han au #han jisung au #jisung au #han imagines #han jisung imagines #jisung imagines #han scenarios #han jisung scenarios #jisung scenarios #skz fluff #skz angst #skz au #skz imagines #skz scenarios #han #han jisung #jisung #han fanfic #han jisung fanfic #han fanfiction

[catmiemy]

New Life, Old Problems (Leah Williamson x Reader)

Summary: You're trying to fully settle into your new life in London with your girlfriend. But when you get sick your past stops you from reaching out.

A/N: Finally managed to put something on paper again! By now I have about 6 stories (some multiple chapters) fully planned out in my head, but I struggle so much with actually writing any of it. Although it's getting a bit better, so I might become more active again.

This is the third part of the New Teammate series (Part 1, Part 2 Arsenal version). Although I think you should be fine to read this without reading the other parts first. Also this was definitely helped along by @holly-wallis, who reached out to tell me she was excited for the next part. So thank you again!

You thought you were doing well. You thought you had settled perfectly into your new life in London. You thought your relationship with Leah was going great. And all this was true, but only to a certain degree. Underneath the surface there were still many gaping wounds and you had a long way to go, which would take even longer because you refused to accept it, pretending like you were already at your destination.

How hard it really was for you to fully trust anyone, even Leah, to be vulnerable around her, became glaringly obvious when you got sick. As much as you wanted comfort, someone to take care of you, you couldn’t allow it. The thought of trusting anyone so much when you were in a vulnerable state left you panicked.

However there was no hiding your sickness. Leah and you had plans that day and if you came up with some random excuse your girlfriend might end up checking on you since it was unlike you to cancel without a good reason. And sadly you couldn’t think of a single good reason why you were unable to meet up with Leah. How were you supposed to do that when you could barely muster up the energy to go to the bathroom when needed?

In the end you decided that the truth was your best course of action. The defender had been exceptionally understanding about your situation and the multitude of struggles you still faced because of your past trauma. Honestly more understanding and patient than you were with yourself.

Despite being reasonably confident for a positive reaction you still were too much of a coward to call your girlfriend, opting to text her instead. ‘This was better for your sore throat anyway’, you reasoned with yourself.

R: Le, I’m sorry I have to cancel today. I got sick.

L: Oh no! Are you okay? No wait, scratch that. How bad are you feeling? Is there anything I can do? Bring you something? Or do you want me to come over to keep you company? I’d be happy to!

You looked at the sweet and caring words, Leah’s concern noticeable even from these few letters on your phone. The urge to text back and ask the Englishwoman to come over was huge. She would take good care of you; make you feel safe and loved. But you couldn’t allow it because what if…

You couldn’t even begin to describe what was hiding behind this what if. Maybe it was actually that, the big unknown, the completely unexpected. Never in your life would you have pictured what had gone done with Jimena and the whole team in Barcelona before it had actually happened. It had left you afraid to fully let your guard down because who knew when something unpredictable would happen again. And right now you were definitely too tired to keep up any guards, so your only option was to keep everyone far away from you.

R: That’s very sweet, but I can’t…I’m sorry.

With a rapidly beating heart you watched your phone, practically hypnotizing it, scared of your girlfriend’s reply. What if this was the final straw?  As much as this possibility scared you, it was still more bearable than the alternative. At least it was an option you had already considered. You wouldn’t be blindsided by it. Plus if there was one thing you had gotten good at in the course of your life it was dealing with pain and people leaving you.

L: I understand, babe. But if you need anything please text or call me. And I’ll be right there! Take care of yourself! Sending you some remote cuddles. Love you!

Your whole body relaxed as you read this response, even some tears of relief rolling down your cheeks.

R: Thanks, darling, I will. And thank you so much for being so understanding!! Love you too!

And with that you put your phone away, buried yourself under the covers and fell asleep relatively quickly. The cold medicine you had taken before texting Leah doing its part in helping you drowse off without too much of uncomfortable shuffling. Your last thought was that hopefully you’d already feel better when you woke up again.

Unfortunately the opposite was the case. You were startled awake by a violent coughing fit that just wouldn’t stop. You thought that you could ride it out, but when it got to the point where you felt like you had to throw up from coughing so much, you forced your tired body out of bed and into the bathroom.

First you collapsed in front of the toilet, bending over the bowl, but once it became clear that you didn’t actually have to throw up, you dragged yourself into the kitchen and filled a glass with water.

As long as you were drinking you were fine, but as soon as you put the glass down the scratchiness in your throat returned with full force, swiftly followed by another cough attack.

You resigned yourself to keep standing there, leaning heavily against the counter, too tired to support your body weight with only your legs, and drink glass after glass, until finally you could put the water down without instantly dissolving into a coughing fit.

At that point you were trembling because of the cold, your teeth chattering and every single bone of your body seemed to be hurting. Still you didn’t immediately crawl back into bed, instead you gathered all of the supplies you might need to ride out this cold. You filled a bottle with water, grabbed some crackers and medicine and then you decided to also get a bowl to be on the safe side should you actually have to throw up at some point.

When you finally returned to bed, your breathing was labored and you all but fell into it. You quickly buried yourself under the blankets. It did little to warm you up though and you debated for a moment to get back up and get more blankets. The idea of moving again seemed entirely impossible however.

This time it took you a lot longer to fall asleep, silent tears streaming down your face because you felt so miserable. You yearned for some comfort, for Leah’s arms around you really, and you knew she would come in a heartbeat if you asked her. Still, you couldn’t. You just couldn’t!

The next time you woke up you felt even worse and it was at this point that you realized that you needed help. Somewhere in the hazy fog of fever and misery you managed to form this one rational thought. However you had little recollection of what happened next.

You remembered staring at Leah’s contact on your phone for a while, although you couldn’t say if you did so for a few seconds or minutes or even hours. In the end you decided against calling her, instead opting to get an Uber. How you managed to get to the hospital was beyond you. You had some vague memories of a very concerned and helpful Uber driver who even walked you into the ER.

Another thing you recalled was sending Leah a message once you sat in the waiting room, slumped against the wall and shivering violently.

R: Fine. At hospital. But fine. Don’t worry!!!!

You even remembered feeling very proud of this text; convinced that it would soothe all of your girlfriend’s concerns. If you would have been coherent enough to read Leah’s answer you would have known that it had the opposite effect. You did feel the constant buzzing of your phone from when the Englishwoman tried calling you over and over again, but it felt kind of nice against you aching body, so you didn’t do anything about it.

---

“She’s not answering her phone and she hasn’t texted me back, Lia! What do I do!?!”

Your girlfriend was crying as she basically screamed these words at her best friend. When she had gotten your text and couldn’t get a hold of you, she had called the Swiss woman for support and because the midfielder was known for being helpful in difficult situations.

“Okay Leah, first take a deep breath…” Lia began with a soothing tone.

“Are you kidding me?! How do you expect me to breath when I don’t know where my girlfriend, my very sick girlfriend might I add, is!” Leah yelled, feeling the need to punch something like some sort of cliché from a movie. Or even better, the blonde would have loved to have a ball at her feet right now, that she could pund with all of her strength into the back of the net. And then maybe get into a slightly too aggressive scuffle with an opponent. Just something to get rid of this nervous energy.

“You know where she is though, she’s in the hospital, so they’ll be taking care of her,” Lia reasoned, continuing quickly before your girlfriend could blow up at her again, “And fine let’s skip the breathing. Here’s what I think we should do; you pack some things your girl might need and I’m going to call the hospitals closest to her. It shouldn’t be too hard to figure out where she is. Then I’ll come pick you up and drive you over because you definitely shouldn’t be driving.”

Despite her earlier refusal Leah let out a deep breath, relief smoothing out the edges of her panic, at least now they had a reasonable plan. This was exactly why she had called her best friend and once the Englishwoman was less preoccupied with her fear for you she would be thanking Lia profusely.

A little later the two footballers arrived at the hospital, Lia once again taking the lead and asking about you. There was a bit of a back and forth where the staff had to figure out if they could even give them any information about you.

It was a big test for your girlfriend’s brittle composure, every second that ticked by brought her one step closer to bursting into tears or unleashing her fury on everyone that got into a five meter radius of her.

Leah managed to keep it together however, not using the healthiest coping mechanisms. The Englishwoman kept pinching herself to let at least some of the overwhelming emotions trickle out of her.

Lia frowned when she noticed, but decided to keep her mouth shut. She didn’t want to risk a full-blown outburst which might then keep them, or at least Leah, from seeing you even longer.

Finally they managed to find the right information and saw that Leah was in fact your emergency contact, something that the blonde had been telling them all along. If only they would have believed her then this wouldn’t have taken so long!

Thankfully things went quickly after that. Leah was led to your room while Lia wasn’t allowed to tag along. The Swiss woman promised that she would stay in the waiting room until your girlfriend had updated her, in case either Leah or you needed something.

Leah entered your room quietly, not wanting to disturb you even though with all the meds you had been given it was unlikely you would wake up anytime soon. Still she didn’t want to take the risk. So the defender tiptoed into your room, coming to a sudden halt once she had a good view of you.

It filled your girlfriend with fear and pain to see you so sick. You were pale, even more so than usual, almost the same color as the bed sheets. There was a tube connected to your arm, most likely to replenish you with everything you needed. You were also hooked up to a monitor, and it was a small relief to Leah that everything on it looked and sounded normal. As far as she could tell at least. Most of her medical knowledge stemmed from watching doctor shows, so that probably wasn’t the most reliable source.

After getting used to this sick, fragile version of you the blonde approached you, standing by your bedside. She looked down at you with teary eyes, gently stroking your cheek before smoothing out your tussled hair.

Your girlfriend craved more contact. She wanted to snuggle up next to you, wrap her arms around you and basically attach every centimeter of her body to yours. But Leah didn’t know how you would feel about that. Not when you weren’t awake to enforce your boundaries, not when you were in a vulnerable state which usually made you push people far away from you.

So with a sigh she pulled up a chair and sat down next to your bed, not even allowing herself to hold your hand. The England captain didn’t want to risk making you uncomfortable even the tinie when you woke up.

It was about 30 minutes later that Leah suddenly remembered that Lia was still waiting for her. She rushed down to the waiting room, not wanting to leave you alone for a second longer than totally necessary.

“She’s okay, I think. Or not too bad at least. So you can go home,” Leah explained, sounding very unsure. Everyone had told her that you would be okay, all the signs pointed to it, but she would only be able to believe it once you woke up and she could see for herself. And maybe not even then.

“That’s good! I guess you want to go back now, but call me if you think of anything you need, yeah?” Lia replied, giving her friend a tight hug.

Leah nodded, before turning around and walking as fast as she could back to your room. She would have run, but had the distinct feeling that that wouldn’t be appreciated by the hospital staff. And the Englishwoman didn’t want to annoy anyone, not when she was aware that they were already breaking the rules for her by letting her stay with you way past visiting hours.

---

When you woke up you noticed with a pang of sadness that there was no warm body next to you. It wasn’t like you and Leah stayed over at each other’s place every day, but definitely more often than not. And lately every time you woke up alone you felt some dismay. Everything was just better when you got to start the day with your girlfriend.

The second thing you became aware of was that despite just waking up you still felt exhausted, drained was the better word really, and also somewhat hazy and achy. It was then that you remembered that you were sick and that you had this weird fever dream where you took an Uber to the hospital. If you would have had the energy for it you would have laughed at the absurdity of this.

However as you opened your eyes you realized with a silent ‘Oh’ that it hadn’t been a fever dream after all, you really were in the hospital. Panic bubbled up in you, but got quickly cut off before it could become overwhelming by your favorite voice speaking up, even if you didn’t like how worried it sounded.

“Babe, are you awake? How are you feeling?”

You turned around, your lips turning into a smile when you laid your eyes on your girlfriend. She had gotten up from the chair she had presumably been sitting in, staring down at you intently. The Englishwoman’s eyes were trailing over your entire body, however not in the way they usually did, this felt more clinical, like she was attempting to spot anything that might be wrong.

“Could be worse,” you replied.

Leah gave you an unimpressed look. “But it also could be better?” She double-checked and you nodded sheepishly.

“Is there anything I can do before I get the doctor?” Your girlfriend asked softly.

For some reason Leah was still standing a good fifty centimeters away from your bed, her arms hidden behind her back as if she had to stop herself from reaching out to you. If only she would! You longed for some comforting touches and maybe a good, reassuring hug from the blonde.

“Get me home?” You joked with a pleading look. You definitely wanted to get out of the hospital but you knew that it wasn’t up to your girlfriend, and she would never do anything to endanger you.

“No can do, sorry babe. Anything else?” Leah prodded, hoping you would ask her for a hug. She could barely contain herself from launching at you, but the fear of crossing your boundaries in such a difficult situation kept her back.

“Maybe a cuddle,” you mumbled so quietly and rapidly that Leah couldn’t decipher what you were saying.

“What was that, babe? Sorry I didn’t quite hear you,” Leah apologized, taking a step closer to you.

You locked your eyes with your girlfriend’s, letting all the love and concern shining in them wash over you and give you the strength to utter your request more loudly. There wasn’t even a reason to feel weird about it, you knew that Leah wouldn’t deny it, would most likely be happy to oblige.

“A cuddle?”

Within milliseconds your girlfriend closed the distance between the two of you, sat down on the edge of your bed and leaned down to gather you carefully in her arms. You both felt and heard the relieved sigh Leah let out when you were tucked into her arms.

It made you wonder why the blonde had kept her distance before, a certain guess at the forefront of your mind. And in the safety of your girlfriend’s arms you managed to ask about it without much over thinking or fuss.

“Why did you sit all the way over there?”

All the way over there was a bit of an exaggeration, but also not really. Any sort of distance between your sick self and your girlfriend felt like way too much.

Leah tried to lean back a bit to look you in the eyes, but you held her firmly in place. You weren’t ready to lose the comfort of her body on yours, even if she put now weight on you, not sure if it would negatively impact you in your current state.

“I didn’t want you to be uncomfortable with me being too close when you woke up. I know allowing closeness when you aren’t feeling too good is still very difficult for you,” Leah explained as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Even though your girlfriend showed you over and over again, day in and day out how amazing she was, the level of understanding and love behind this gesture still knocked you off your feet, or it would have if you were standing. It almost made you believe fully that you would always be safe with her. Almost. There was still a tiny bit of fear and insecurity left. It would probably take a good while longer until you got rid of that last remnant and you were once again very grateful for Leah’s patience.

“Thank you so so much, love,” you whispered, pulling the blonde even closer to you.

“Always,” Leah stated, not an ounce of doubt in her voice. She would always do whatever she could for you, to make you feel comfortable, loved and safe.

Your girlfriend allowed you to cuddle a bit longer until she gently extracted herself to get a doctor. At first you were somewhat annoyed at this, you would have preferred to stay wrapped up together for the rest of the night. However when the doctor announced after a quick exam that you would be allowed to go home later that day, you didn’t mind so much anymore. The thought of going home made up for losing contact with your girlfriend temporarily.

Especially because she instantly stated that she would be staying with you when the doctor pointed out that you could only go home if there was someone around to supervise you. The way her voice sounded slightly offended that this wasn’t abundantly clear to everyone made you smile fondly.

That’s how you found yourself sitting in Leah’s car that Lia had brought to the hospital early in the morning with help from Viv and Beth a few hours later. The short walk to the parking lot had tired you out and you couldn’t wait to get to Leah’s apartment and crawl into her cozy bed.

You were half asleep when your girlfriend asked you, “Home?” Still you managed to nod and echo her words. “Home,” you confirmed.

In your drowsy and still a bit feverish state you hadn’t realized that Leah was actually asking where you wanted to go, your apartment or hers. In your mind it was already decided that you would be going to the Englishwoman’s place. You loved her apartment more than yours at this point, everything about it homey and safe.

So when the blonde announced that you had arrived and you opened your eyes from the half-sleep you had been in a wave of unhappiness hit you as you took in your surroundings. You were parked in front of your own apartment building.

Tears flooded your eyes, which you tried to blink away hastily before Leah could spot them. It was stupid to be upset because of this, it wasn’t like your apartment was bad or anything, you were just really craving the comfort of your girlfriend’s place. Where everything smelt and felt like Leah.

Of course the defender detected your distress instantly. She had been watching you like a hawk ever since she had gotten to the hospital last night.

“What’s wrong, babe? Does something hurt? Should we go back to the hospital?” She asked you in rapid succession, trying unsuccessfully to keep her voice calm and steady.

You shook your head, mumbling that it was nothing. To emphasize this point you reached for your seatbelt, determined to get out of the car and into your apartment without any more of a hassle. Everything was fine. It didn’t matter that you had wanted to go to Leah’s home. Everywhere was better than the hospital anyway.

Leah didn’t give up so easily though. She put her hand on yours lightly, not taking a hold of it however, leaving you the option to pull it back if you wanted to. You didn’t, just this small contact made you feel better instantly.

“Please tell me what’s bothering you,” your girlfriend begged, her eyes looking suspiciously wet.

“It’s stupid,” you waved Leah off.

“Please,” Leah asked again, demolishing the last of your resolve to keep this to yourself.

“I really wanted to go to your place,” you explained, rushing to add, “But it doesn’t matter. Let’s just go inside now.”

Again you tried to make an attempt to leave the car, and again Leah stopped you with a gentle touch.

“We can still go over to my place if you prefer,” she offered, already turning her car back on.

“No, that’s not necessary. I’m just being silly,” you argued, but Leah just reached over to buckle you back in and pulled out of the parking space.

You didn’t have it in you to continue arguing. Plus you were too happy at the prospect of getting to go to your girlfriend’s place after all. So you just leant your head against the car window, letting your eyes flutter shut again.

“I thought you said you wanted to go home,” Leah said before you could fully fall asleep.

“I did, but I meant your place,” you answered tiredly.

“Oh,” your girlfriend exclaimed, her voice heavy with emotion. The idea of you thinking of her apartment as your home meant a lot to Leah. Every once in a while she couldn’t help but worry if she was doing enough to help you move on, to be the best girlfriend possible, to make you feel loved and safe. So this undeniable confirmation that she had been succeeding in all of these aspects meant the world to your girlfriend.

When there was no more reaction from you after this, Leah glanced over, smiling when she saw you sleeping soundly. You looked so young and open and vulnerable when you slept. Leah cherished the fact that you were comfortable being like this around her, that wouldn’t have been possible a few months ago.

#woso x reader #woso imagine #woso fanfics #woso #leah williamson x reader #leah williamson imagine

[dixons-sunshine]

hii, i just saw a post with a few daryl headcanons, and one of them were about how attentive he would be his partner in general (like her mannerisms or habits), and i think he would really pay attention to some really specific things about her and everyone including reader would be like ¿¿¿¿¿, 😂so i was just thinking if maybe you could write something about that? i love your writtings!!

Observe | Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Summary: Daryl Dixon is an extremely observant guy. He notices things that people normally wouldn't pick up on. That didn't change when the two of you got together. In fact, it increased by a tenfold.

Or, four different scenarios where the archer shows he knows more about you than you think.

Genre: Fluff, smut.

Era: Prison, season 4; Alexandria, pre Saviour arc.

Warnings: Swearing, oral (f receiving), mentions of unprotected p in v.

Word count: 1.8k.

A/n: I'm so close to being done with a young!Daryl fic, but my mind is struggling to work towards the ending, so I wrote this instead. By the way, I suck at writing smut, so I'm so sorry if it's bad. However, I hope you like this!

➳༻❀✿❀༺➳

“Zach, please, I beg of you, just shut up,” you laughed, settling back against the passenger seat of the car with your legs propped up on the dashboard.

The eighteen year old laughed at you, propping his head up against your seat. “Come on, one more.”

“Zach, don't,” you warned him, sending him a mocking glare.

Daryl watched the interaction in amusement. The run the three of you had gone on went relatively smoothly, and the teenager had taken it upon himself to celebrate the victory by reading jokes from a book he had found, albeit they were rather terrible. However, even he had to admit that the horribleness of the jokes made them rather funny, and Zach used that to his advantage.

“What did one toilet say to the other?” Zach asked, laughing at the joke from his book.

“Zach—” you started warningly, but Zach cut you off.

“You appear to be a bit flushed!” Zach finished, laughing loudly at the lame joke.

You let out an audible groan, rolling your eyes at him. However, Daryl could instantly tell that you did find the joke rather funny. The subtle changes in your facial expression gave it all away.

“That was terrible,” you told him with a shake of your head, folding your arms over your chest.

“You thought it was funny, though,” Zach pointed out, flipping to the next page in the book.

“Do you see me laughing?”

“Nah, but tha' ain't necessary,” Daryl piped in, talking for the first time since Zach had started his onslaught of terrible jokes. “Ya did find it funny. Yer nose slightly scrunches when ya think somethin' is amusin'. And yer eyes crinkle at the corners, too. Plus ya mouth slightly twitches up into a smile before disappearin'.”

The car got immensely silent after that. The only sound that could be heard was the rumble of the engine as the car descended back towards the prison. You were staring at Daryl in surprise, but he could see the way your mouth slightly twitched up into a small smile. It made Daryl's face heat up, and he ducked his head.

“Well,” Zach started, clearing his throat and shutting the book again. “Aren't you just an observant lover, Daryl?”

“Shut up, kid,” Daryl mumbled, his knuckles tightening around the steering wheel.

“No, it's cute! Who would've thought that a guy like you would pick up on something like that? You know, Beth—”

As Zach yammered on, Daryl's eyes drifted back to you. You were holding your knees up to your chest and resting your chin on them, but your head was turned towards him. You were staring at him with a lovesick smile, and he felt his heart start pounding against his ribcage. He wished that he could just reach out and hold one of your hands in his own. However, he wasn't big on public displays of affection, and Zach would tease him relentlessly if he did so in the teenager's presence, so he opted instead to send you a small smile.

Luckily, later that night when you were both on watch duty, he could hold you in his arms to his heart's content.

➳༻❀✿❀༺➳

“I'm telling you, that Spencer guy is such a fucking jerk,” you started, walking into your Alexandrian home with Daryl, Michonne and Rick hot om your tail.

Rick nodded in agreement. “Yeah. He is a real asshole. I don't know how the people here put up with him.”

Michonne practically flopped herself down on the couch, kicking off her boots that came clad with the constable uniform. “He's Deanna's son. He's practically royalty here. That means he's untouchable.”

Rick was eyeing the loveseat couch, ready to fall down and just relax, but Daryl's hand gripping his shoulder stopped him in his tracks. Rick sent the archer a confused look, but Daryl wasn't even watching the former sherrif—he was watching you. Rick followed his gaze and saw you sit on the couch, bringing your legs up to rest on the plush seat. You leaned your back against the back of the couch as you listened to Michonne talk about her day, adding your own comments every now and again.

“She's been doin' tha' everyday since we got here,” Daryl offered a quiet explanation when Rick sent him another look. “She rarely sits on any couch 'sides tha' one. Tha's her favourite spot.”

“Did she tell you that?” Rick asked, glancing in your direction.

“Nah,” Daryl replied, shaking his head. “I can see it on her face every time she has to sit on any other couch. She prefers the loveseat.”

Rick sent the archer a teasing smile, lightly patting him on the shoulder. “I didn't even notice that. I guess I shouldn't be surprised that you did, though. When you're not hunting or going on runs, you're watching her. It's really cute.”

Daryl scoffed and shrugged the man's hand from his shoulder. “I dun' always watch her. S'jus' somethin' I picked up on. Ain't gotta read into it or anythin'.”

“You don't need to be ashamed of admitting you know little things about the person you love, Daryl,” Rick assured him, giving him another light pat on the back. “Knowing things like that just shows that you care.”

Daryl looked back over at you again, your melodic laughter filling the air when Michonne said something funny. Daryl could feel his heart swell with love, and he couldn't help the small smile that tugged at the corners of his lips.

Rick chuckled and nudged Daryl. “C'mon, you lovestruck fool. Let's relax.”

➳༻❀✿❀༺➳

Daryl walked back into the community, a slight skip in his step, something extremely uncommon for the otherwise serious archer. He had a string of rabbits over his shoulder, and he couldn't wait to skin them and make some stew with them for you. From all of the animals he's ever brought back from his hunts, he had noticed that you seemed to have a huge liking for rabbit. Today he had managed to find a few rabbits, and he intended to surprise you.

When he got to the porch of the house, he sat down in his usual spot and began the skinning process. His hands made quick work of skinning his kills, and in no time at all, he was done. When he was sure that he had cleaned up the blood to ensure that Carol didn't bite his head off again for messing up the porch, he made his way inside and into the kitchen.

However, Daryl stopped in his tracks when he saw you already in the kitchen.

Perking up when you saw your partner, you sent him a smile. “Hey, Dar! You're back.”

Daryl nodded. “Yeah, uh... Wasn't much to find out there 'cept, uh, rabbit.”

Daryl's lips twitched up into a small smile when he saw how you visibly perked up at the mere mention of something you enjoyed. He admired the way a smile lit up your face, your eyes crinkling slightly.

“Rabbit?”

“Yeah,” Daryl confirmed, holding up the skinned animal. “Wanted to surprise ya with some rabbit stew. S'why I came home earlier. But yer already home and stuff, so tha' kinda fell through the rug.”

You stepped forward and embraced the man in a hug, and Daryl returned it after a few moments, careful to keep the meat away from you. He felt the way you nuzzled your face against his chest, and he smiled.

“It doesn't matter. Thank you anyways,” you told him, withdrawing from the hug. “How about you bring that and we'll make some rabbit stew together?”

Daryl nodded. “Alrigh'. Sounds like a good plan to me.”

➳༻❀✿❀༺➳

“Daryl, oh my god!” Your moans filled the room, your back arching off the bed as you tightly gripped onto Daryl's hair.

Daryl hummed against your core as his tongue licked another stripe from your clit down to your entrance, matching the pace of his fingers that were thrusting into you. His mouth latched onto your clit and started sucking, successfully coaxing moans from you that were downright sinful. Your grip on his hair tightened as you practically shoved his head deeper against you.

After a few moments, your grip on his hair loosened. You instead opted to grip onto the sheets beneath you, your hands clenching into fists before unclenching again, the only sounds from you being garbled words that Daryl couldn't understand and high-pitched moans. Daryl smirked against your pussy, and started speeding up the pace.

Daryl knew those signs meant that you were close to unraveling. Whether he was eating you out like a starved man or he was stuffed deep inside of you, it didn't matter. You always did that when the coil in your stomach was close to snapping. It's something that didn't even register in your mind, the haze of pleasure evaporating any and all thoughts from your head.

Not too long after, you finally came undone. Daryl didn't ease up, licking up every drop that came gushing from your core. When he was done, he lifted his head, and you could see the way your slick was dripping from his face. You couldn't see the blues of his eyes anymore, his pupils blown wide with lust.

Daryl clambered upwards and caught your lips in a passionate kiss. You moaned at the taste of you in his mouth and wrapped your arms around his shoulders, your nails lightly digging into his skin. Daryl smirked against your lips, before pulling away and gazing into your eyes.

“Think ya can handle another one, sunshine?”

You didn't give him a verbal response, but Daryl didn't need one. The way you licked your lips and tightened your hold against him was enough. He leaned down for another quick kiss before quickly making work of removing his pants, not missing the way your eyes followed his hands as they freed his cock from his jeans. He also didn't miss the way you swallowed deeply.

“Dun' worry, peach,” Daryl voiced, finally removing his jeans and rejoining you on the bed again. “I know what ya need. I can see it.”

Yeah, it was safe to say that Daryl Dixon was the most observant guy ever.

#krys writes .ೃ࿐ #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl x reader #twd daryl #daryl dixon x female reader #daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon the walking dead #the walking dead daryl #daryl #daryl fanfiction #daryl x y/n #daryl x female reader #daryl x you #daryl dixon smut #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl dixon x reader smut #daryl x reader smut #daryl dixon x y/n #daryl dixon x you #the walking dead #norman reedus #norman reedus x you #norman reedus x reader

[hitomisuzuya]

Hi Suzu! How are you doing? I hope everything is fine 🫶🏽

Well, I'm a big fan of scummy Scara, maybe, can I ask for scummy Scara x reader, however, reader is also a scummy person, and Scara will discover this, probably he'll discover a secret obsession from us for him 🤫🤭, a smut or suggestive, as long as you feel comfortable writing, I hope you have a nice day.

Scaramouche x fem!reader. Smut. Scummy Scara. Journal descriptions of blow job, masturbation, degradation, sex. Filth. Yandere!Scara

Hello dear❤️ Thank you so much. I got a bit creative with this. Guys, I am nervous. I am pulling for Scara's C3 and weapon on his rerun.

Scaramouche knew your schedule like the back of his hand. What times you had which classes, when you would leave, the route you would take, and when you would be back. Tonight was one of the few evening classes he couldn't change his schedule to take the class too.

There was something he was dying to get his hands on. There was this one notebook you always, always carried with you. You never left it unattended. He gathered there was something personal about that notebook.

He had 95% of his classes with you, he always saw you writing in it. He could tell you weren't taking notes, because it looked like you weren't even listening to a word the teacher said during lectures.

What was going through your pretty little head? He had to know.

So, when he saw you leaving for your class without the notebook, he knew this was the only chance he would have. Was your head so far in the clouds that you left your dorm without it? His captivation with you increased even more thanks to his curiosity.

Each and every time he snuck into your room, never once did Scaramouche find the notebook. The first place he'd looked was your panty drawer. He didn't find it, however, he'd found a pair of panties and jacked himself off with them once he sprayed some of your perfume on them.

It only turned him on more knowing his cock would smell like you.

The scent of you enveloped him as he closed your dorm door behind him. He knew if anyone saw him sneaking into your room, they would be too pissed scared of him to call him out on it.

"Where oh where did you put it, kitten?" Scaramouche murmured as he crawled onto your bed. He was a pro at fixing your sheets back perfectly. The corner of something purple was sticking out underneath your blanket.

There it was!

Did he feel bad for snooping.

...

NOPE.

He stretched out on my bed, kicking some Squishmellows off your bed and onto the floor. He opened your notebook to a random page. His eyes widened, his breath hitching in his throat as his read.

On the page, written in your handwriting was stuff about him. Explicit things written about him. His cock throbbed with every word he read, his eyes racing across the page:

Scaramouche sat next to me again today. I couldn't stop looking at him from the corner of my eye. I doubt I even heard a word the Professor said the entire lecture. All I could think about was sucking Scaramouche's cock underneath the desk. I wanted so badly to make it pulse and throb under my tongue, happily moaning as he grips my hair and forces my mouth down on it.

Scaramouche took out his cock, and stroked it as he read. You'd been staring off at nothing during class thinking about choking on his cock. How long had you been feeling this way?

During the very same class this entry was dated for, he'd been thinking about fingering you into a wet mess underneath your desk. He'd fantasized denying you your orgasm while he watched you struggle to keep your composure. You would lean in and whisper a plead for him to take you back to his dorm and make you cum.

God, he wanted to corrupt you so fucking bad. You were always so quiet, shy and innocent looking. A good girl who always did her assignments. A fucking nerd. Who knew you felt like this?

Scaramouche turned to another page. The intimate descriptions of fantasies you had about him continued. His cock felt almost painfully hard now as he read. His hips jerked to rut into his hand as he massaged the precum soaked head with his thumb.

You know that empty classroom no one uses? The one that's always locked? Every time I walk by it, I think about how much I want Scaramouche to bend me over one of the desks, his hand covering my mouth to muffle my moans while he pounds his cock into my pussy from behind. I may have to stop writing this to use my vibrator or finger myself. I am getting wet, and my clit is throbbing thinking about it while I write this.

I just know my cunt would squeeze around his cock if he spanked me, and told me to be a good girl and stay quiet while he empties his cock into me. I want him to tell me what a slut I look like with his cum seeping from my hole around his cock. What a whore I sound like muffling loud moans behind his hand.

Scaramouche had drop your notebook to put a hand over his mouth to muffle a moan as he fisted his cock. You started writing another sentence but abruptly stopped. "Ah fuck," He groaned, his cock throbbed as he pictured you desperately fingering your drooling pussy, your fingers skating wet over your clit. Twitching and moaning his name.

Biting the palm of his hand, Scaramouche picked up your notebook again. The pace of his hand increased when he read your next words:

Fuck, I can't make myself cum. No matter how much I finger myself. I need Scaramouche. I need him to make me cum. It's so frustrating. He is all I can think about. I am so in love with him that hurts.

I want to be his little fuck toy. I would worship him and his cock on my knees.

At that point, it became too much for Scaramouche. Cum spurted into into his hand. He laughed, soft and dark as he jacked himself off through his orgasm. How exhilarating to find out you wanted him just as badly he wanted you!

He took the notebook with him after he left your room. It would give him something to read until your class was over. After that, if he had it his way and he knew he would, you would end up in his room.

You wouldn't be leaving that night.

He had a fuck toy to tend to, after all.

#genshin impact #genshin smut #fem!reader #genshin imagines #scaramouche #scaramouche smut #scummy scara #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche x y/n #scaramouche x you

[whatswrongwithblue]

Alastor Headcannons

Fem cat demon reader in a relationship with the Radio Demon

SFW

Rosie introduced him to you. Maybe not necessarily with the idea that you two would be romantic, but she saw similarities between you two and knew you would eventually hit it off.

Once you stopped constantly arguing, that is.

The man had been an Overlord for so long and had sworn off attempting romance for an even longer period, that he genuinely did not recognize his feelings for you as romantic inclinations at first.

He knew he liked you. Admired you. And enjoyed your company. Could talk to you for hours about anything and everything. So obviously that meant he wanted to own your soul.

That blew up in his face – almost literally.

He quickly found out there was nothing he could offer you, or do to you, including putting you in harms way, to force you into making any kind of deal with him. He couldn’t make himself do a damn thing to you. And that scared him and made him avoid you for a long time after that.

But when you two did eventually reunite, it was a lightbulb moment for him, and he pretty much immediately started pursuing an actual relationship with you.

PDA isn’t really his thing, besides hand holding and possibly a hand on the small of your back if he’s feeling extra possessive or wanting to show you off.

The biggest exception to this rule is dancing. He loves to take you dancing.

Surprisingly, he really doesn’t mind others knowing you two are an item.

Some might think he’d want to hide it, worried that others would see you as a weakness to exploit but honestly? Who would dare go after something the Radio Demon held in such high regard. Let them try, my dear.

In private, if he’s in a good mood, he’s quite the sweety.

His love language is definitely acts of service and quality time.

He’ll want to start each day relaxing, enjoying coffee and breakfast with you. He cooks. And throughout the day he really enjoys just being the same room with you, even if you’re both absorbed in your own tasks.

In private, if he’s in a bad mood, he’s very distant.

Don’t touch him and try not to interrupt his work.

He’ll still unconsciously show his affection for you by letting his guard down in these moments.

He’ll let his mask slip a little, show you how upset he is when he would never let anyone else know what’s capable of actually getting under his skin.

He’ll be in some disheveled state. Have his jacket off, or bow tie undone, or hair tied back. He’ll have his microphone across the room. Little things to show he’s still comfortable being vulnerable with you but still . . . best not push it because then he’ll get a little mean.

If you’ve accidentally hurt his feelings in some way, then the insults will start. He’ll call you annoying or dramatic, but he won’t raise his voice unless you do first. He rarely swears so when he does, you know he’s completely at his wits end with you or with whatever else has upset him.

He would never ever lay a hand on you.

If he’s really pushed to the edge, his power might be harder to control. Lights may break, his shadow will go nuts on the wall around you, and he’ll even take on a more demonic, imposing form, but you’ll still feel completely safe in his presence.

Have I mentioned how rare these arguments are? There’s a reason why he’s comfortable enough to be in a relationship with you, because 99% of the time, you understand each other perfectly and can calm the other one down.

At the end of a “no touch day” he’ll usually come find you and initiate some type of cuddle. Usually once you’ve already gone to bed.

He’ll slip under the sheets behind you, probably still a little damp from a shower, and either be the big spoon or, if you’re awake, rest his head on your chest while you stroke his ears.

Those ears are mighty sensitive. Not in a sexual way, but it always sooths his exhausted nervous system when he allows you to touch them like that.

That, and your purrs. No lullaby in the world is as potent as the mesmerizing sensation of your purrs when his body is laid close against yours.  

It took him a few months to admit it, but after the first time he told you he loved you; he says it all the time. His mother always told him you couldn’t overuse that phrase if you meant it, so you tend to hear it multiple times a day.

He isn’t fluent in Louisiana Creole, but he knows a few phrases, and will slip into the native accent of his youth and whisper them in your ears when he’s trying to sooth you if you’re the one upset.

He took decades to propose. You never pestered him about it, but Rosie did – and that probably made him take even longer to get around to it than if she had just let it alone.

Neither of you were super into the idea of a big ceremony but then word got out and half of Cannibal Town was asking about Save the Dates so you two decided that while the vow exchange would be short and sweet, the reception would be a fucking party.

NSFW

Sex had not been a part of this man’s life for a very long time.

He’d only been in two brief relationships, once as a teen, and once later to appease his mother, and neither one exactly went well.

Even his rut, which makes most other demons sex-crazed, used to just make him more aggressive and territorial. The physical aspects of it were easy to take care of in private, so he never had to seek out other outlets.

But then you came along and while it still wasn’t as much of a priority for him as it was for you, he still found himself enjoying and even desiring that kind of intimacy with you.

For the first time in . . . well, ever . . . he found himself initiating sex with someone, rather than the other way around, and you found yourself pleasantly satisfied whenever he was in the mood.

Don’t get me wrong, he could still be - and was often - very touch adverse, especially after a difficult day.

But if he’s happy and relaxed and you’re around . . . you two are going to end up under the covers.

He used to hate his tail. He’d even cut it off more than once, but it always grew back. But you liked it and he liked anything that pleased you. And then you started touching it during intercourse and he really liked that.

If the guy has one cum button, it’s you stroking his tail while he’s inside you.

It also really helps that you are so comfortable with your tail and you constantly let him touch it.

He’s definitely a top. Sex is just not interesting to him unless he knows you’re getting off, so it’s either mutual pleasure or your pleasure, but he doesn’t care for anything that involves just his body.

You enjoy going down on him, and it’s okay for him, at least for starters, but he rarely lets you do it for very long. It’s just . . . boring, for him. He’ll compromise and 69 if you’re really in the mood for that kind of thing.

He gets very excited when you’re in heat.

It’s the only thing that can -almost- always override his touch aversion on a bad day.

The idea of you wanting him that much, to the point of it being a near constant physical need for him to be inside you, really gets him going.

He wears out faster than you do, but even after he can’t get it up anymore, he has a multitude of other appendages (fingers, tongue, tentacles) and even some toys that he thoroughly enjoys using on you until you are finally sated.

He’s not one for dirty talk. It makes him uncomfortable, and he finds it distracting. He stays pretty quiet himself during sex, but he loves the needy little moans and whines you make.

He does bite.

And slap your ass.

He’s not usually one for restraints or whips, but he does enjoy marking you with his teeth and claws. Again, this man wanted to own your soul, so he’s going to enjoy leaving physical reminders all over your body that you are his.

His rut is much harder to handle now that he’s sexually active.

And he’s very different in bed when he’s in a rut.

That’s when he dirty talks.

And that’s when he really gets rough.

You have on more than one occasion been face fucked to the point of choking and tears.

And those shadow tentacles really come out to play during that time of year.

They’ll be wrapped around your body, your neck, limbs, etc. They’ll fuck your mouth, your ass, any part of you that his cock isn’t in. He wants you completely controlled and filled up by him when he’s fucking you in his rut.

And he can go for a very long time. Multiple times. You learned after the first year to just plan on taking a vacation that time of year because really, other than eating and sleeping, he pretty much demands that’s all you two do.

He can sometimes lose control of his power and his bodily form during sex.

You’ll know when he’s close to climax because those antlers get massive and his eyes tend to go black. And if he’s in a rut, he can get a little  . . . big.

Like, all of him. His entire body. But also yes, his dick gets larger then, too.

One time, you were just about to say you were getting stretched a little too much down there, and his weight was starting to crush you, when he literally broke the bed. That’s all hot and steamy in romance novels, but you just about broke your tail that night and ended up nearly impaled by the bed frame.

Another time, he got his antlers stuck in the backboard of the bed and that was even more embarrassing for him than breaking the actual bed had been because it took him so long to calm down enough to control the size of those things and meanwhile you had just been pinned beneath him and laughing hysterically at the very horny, very frustrated, very stuck husband of yours.

He’s a self-inflicted insomniac and doesn’t let himself sleep much, so after sex, he tends to pass out next to you and when he finally wakes up, he usually insists you join him in the bath or shower for some aftercare.

He’ll help clean any wounds that haven’t already healed, massage your overworked muscles, and verbally check in with you that he didn’t take things too far. Especially since after a rough rut-induced session, he gets awfully insecure about the things he did to you in the heat of the moment.

Of course, you’re always happy to ensure him that you really enjoy that side of him and you’ve never felt like he’d taken anything too far with you.

(P.S. These are some ideas I worked through on what this ace-spectrum Overlord man would be like in a committed relationship for my upcoming OC wife x Alastor fic. I’ve been working on it for weeks now and am just about ready to start posting. It’s been very difficult writing him truly in character while also navigating meeting my OC, coming to terms with his feelings for her, and how he would behave as a partner/husband. For this post - so that it can be its own standalone work - I’ve changed all the wording to Y/N, with the only specifics being that Y/N is a cat demon. But if you really enjoyed this, I hope you’ll stick around for The Fire in the Sin. It’s going to essentially be all of the above turned into a novel, that’s half prequel and half current events for Hazbin Hotel.)

#hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #alastor x reader #alastor x y/n #alastor x oc #hazbin hotel fandom #hazbin hotel fanfiction #alastor fanfiction #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor headcanons

[starjxsung]

okayyy i guess i will make the first request !!! :3 what do you think jealous sex with skz would be like ? the type of sex where they're so jealous and frustrated by something (or someone), they need to fuck their frustration into you

giggles and runs away

-🦢

Chan: quiet at first about why he’s frustrated or jealous tbh. sorta just makes it obvious that he’s horny (I lowk feel like he would get horny as a result of being frustrated or mad??), fucks his anger out on you and it’s v sloppy, not rushed per se but closer to a quickie even though he can still go a few rounds. Lots of heavy grunting and he’s not trying to be quiet at all. And only after he’s finished and you’re in bed beside him catching your breath, he’ll indulge you in the details of what’s got him so bothered. Become the sort of thing where you’re horny if he comes home in a visibly frustrated mood because you know what it implies ! Very talkative during aftercare though. Like your own personal little Channie gossip sesh

Minho: will rant to you between kisses while he’s ripping your clothes off. Hes definitely indulging you in all the details the second he’s alone with you- you’re the type to be on the same page about everything together, and naturally, you hate the people he hates and vice versa. So when he’s frustrated, he goes to you first about it. Sometimes it can be a very emotional sort of thing, could mean he’s shedding a few tears out of frustration and you’re there to console him about it. But when it’s just straight anger or annoyance, he’s going to rant to you until he physically cannot talk in between kisses anymore. He’ll probably even just start to fuck you while he’s still ranting until his frustration turns into the type of pleasure that replaces his words with nothing but heavy breathing and moaning. Not even sure what he was so annoyed about by the time he’s done w you !

Changbin: doesn’t want to make a big deal about it ! You have to sorta coax it out of him. And honestly, he’s simultaneously best coaxed and relaxed after a good fuck. He’s not one to be too rough or anything just because he’s upset, but he’s just grateful you’re the best stress reliever. Lots of kissing, desperate grabbing at each other and sometimes the sex can even feel lighthearted when he’s aware that you’re doing your best to comfort him. Sort of the realization that no source of frustration or jealousy is worth letting it come between the two of you. So he’ll just give himself to focusing on your pleasure and then talk it out after. He might even deny it after and joke around that he was never frustrated or jealous to begin with, but he’s still thanking you for it and eventually you’ll be on the same page about what’s bothering him.

Hyunjin: sweaty. When he gets consumed by frustration or especially jealousy, he’s particularly sloppy with his thrusts, very sweaty, probably sucks a few hickies wherever he can reach and doesn’t care to make them discreet. He’s all heavy breathing, loud groaning, just kinda wants to fill you up with his load as a stress reliever tbh. Feel like he wouldn’t say anything about it but you’d know he was jealous in the way he fucks. Also evident in the way he speaks very little- of course he’ll pay careful attention to cues to make sure he’s not hurting you or anything, but the talking will be very minimal. He just relies on his body language to indicate what he wants. If he is jealous about something, my guess is you won’t know until he’s had a few days to wait on it before saying anything.

Jisung: needier than usual ! Feel like especially if he got jealous over something, he’d be itching to get you home and fuck you like he never has before, just to prove a point. Maybe uses it as an opportunity to try something you’ve both been wanting to try. The guy at the bar was staring at you a little too long? He’s going to drag you to the car and fuck you right there, knowing you’ve been vocalizing your desire to try it, but he sees it as an opportunity to get your head spinning before you can get him even more frustrated. You can bet he’s going to walk back into the bar with his shirt half-on and a cocky fucking smirk. Has you wrapped around his finger tbh, so jealousy isn’t a huge deal ! Frustration is just opportunism for him.

Felix: particularly keen on pleasuring you. He’s vulnerable with his emotions at first, so you’ll know that he’s got something on his mind, but then he just wants to make you feel good in turn. Has you on the edge of his bed very fast, all desperate to eat you out and channel all his frustration into his tongue and his fingers. Your mood is often aligned with his- which means if he’s stressed, you’re stressed, and vice versa. Solution is to make you cum as many times as you can- and then pretty soon your satisfaction is his, too. Definitely won’t lose an opportunity to fuck you too, probably transitions to fucking you when you’re just nearly tired enough so he can make sure you’re both exhausted and satisfied by the end of it. Just treats you good all around !

Seungmin: actually doesn’t get frustrated or jealous very often. And when he does, he’s largely nonchalant about it. Will offhandedly mention something that pissed him off, and you know it’s a little more than mild annoyance when he gets quiet. It’s you who wants to pleasure him as a result, and it quickly becomes some unspoken thing between you both to just fuck out the frustration. He probably doesn’t even realize how annoyed he is until he’s thrusting into you and his emotions are elevated tenfold. He’s still gentle with you, and very set on making you feel good. But you both have the same idea to pleasure each other as much as possible, so it quickly gets rougher and sloppier. The aftercare is A1 though and you probably take like a 10 hour nap after it tbh

Jeongin: a little embarrassed that he’s even frustrated or jealous in the first place! Feels like he’s not supposed to be for some reason. He has this opinion that as a boyfriend, he shouldn’t drag his emotions into your relationship and potentially let it get between you two. But also king of healthy communication, so he’ll reluctantly bring it up to you and then apologize and swear he’s not frustrated or jealous anymore (even if he is…) and the sex that follows is sweet, but desperate. He’s just desperate to be a little closer to you, like a physical reminder that you’re his and you’re not going anywhere regardless of his moods or whatever made him jealous. He loves taking control and being able to look at you, kiss you, touch you wherever he can and just have a tangible reminder that you’re satisfied with him.

#🦢 anon #ask #skz #skz x reader #skz imagines #stray kids #stray kids smut #skz smut

[asapeveryday]

nika smut pleasee

Make a Wish

Pairing: Nika Mühl x Reader

Warnings: smut (thigh riding), alcohol

Summary: After a good game the team is ready to celebrate with a fun night out…you and Nika have a different kind of fun afterwards

A/n: I’m not gonna lie this lowk sucks 😣 forgive me. I’ll get better at writing for her I promise.

The drink burns your throat on its way down, but the warmth it brings to your body makes it worth it.

Fingers tingling, mind racing and body moving. The music was loud and the place was bustling. The girls usually kept it lowkey, but this win was so big it deserved something more, so when you suggested clubbing nobody objected.

Being Nika’s girlfriend meant you were automatically invited to these things. You felt awkward at first, seeing as you two were a fairly new couple and this was a team celebration, but she never failed to reassure you.

“You’re my girlfriend…there’s no way I’m going to a club without you.” She said with a smile. Who were you to argue?

Seeing her like this was something else. The lights were flashing, her hair was swaying against her moving body, her eyes closed and enjoying the music. You needed to be closer to her.

Dancing with Nika was something out of a dream. She was upbeat, singing along to songs, pouring shots into your mouth and spinning you around. It was all fun until you took it upon yourself to really dance. Slowly moving, pressing your backside against her front and tilting your head so her own could fit above your shoulder.

The look in her eye immediately changes. You’d never had a situation like this before. That point in the relationship hadn’t been met yet, so being pressed against her like this, your ass basically grinding into her? It was nerve-wracking, and turning you on to no end.

When her hands find your waist you can’t help but smile. You can feel her breathing on your neck and it sends goosebumps down your spine. Her eyes are burning holes into yours as you grind together to the music.

The moment is interrupted by a tap on her shoulder. A very amused KK whispers something in Nika’s ear, and she parts from you. “Paige just puked everywhere, so we have to head home.” She yells over the music. You’re disappointed, but there’s nothing you can do. The three of you join the others outside. You, Nika and KK call an Uber as you were all a little too tipsy to drive.

The quiet inside of the car is is shocking in comparison to the pounding noise of the club you’d just been in, you and Nika were squeezed in the back together while KK was in the front. Your knee was bumping into Nika’s, and although it was nothing to think twice about, your skin was tingling. Perhaps it was the tequila, or the memory of her calloused hands strong on your hips.

You almost choke on your breathing when she reaches out a hand to wipe your cheek. After shooting her an inquisitive look she says “There’s an eyelash on your face.”

On her finger there is in fact an eyelash, and she holds her hand in front of your mouth with a smirk. “Blow, make a wish.”

Nika’s eyes are stuck to you like honey, when you blow on her finger and hold her stare you don’t miss how her vision darts to your lips.

Lowering her hand casually to grip your thigh, she whispers “I played pretty good today, didn’t I?”

“So good.” You mumble, nervous at the change in atmosphere. She’d never touched you like this, possessively, and her usual cute and almost awkward voice had turned quiet and serious.

“I don’t think I can stay at my dorm tonight.” She murmurs into your ear. It’s less of a statement and more of a suggestion, one that you’re willing to take.

“Stay with me.” You look up at her. “That’ll make one wish fulfilled.”

You can tell that if it weren’t for KK and the Uber Diver in the front, Nika would’ve kissed you by now. Her hazel eyes keep darting to the mirror upfront, KK is on the verge of passing out and the driver is pretending not to notice anything. You and Nika share an understanding look between each other, one that says “just a little longer”

-

The lights are still off in your apartment when the two of you tumble inside, and you slam the wall multiple times before you actually hit the switch. Nika’s lips are too distracting, and she’s been dying to taste you all night.

Being flush against the wall, one hand is beside your head and the other on your face as her mouth clashes with yours. It’s urgent and fiery from your combined drunkness and Nika’s confidence from the earlier victory. You can feel yourself get wetter by the minute.

Her leg is positioned between yours, and her lips are trailing from your face to your neck. She sucks and licks at the sensitive skin, smiling at your breathy moans. You can’t help but lightly grind against her leg in hopes for any type of pressure.

At that, you’re moving around the apartment again, tangled in one another as you crash into things before finally landing on the couch. You scramble to sit on top of her, straddling one of her almost bare thighs as your lips connect again. One hand grips your ass and the other gropes your breasts, pinching at your nipples which causes you to gasp.

Your core is pulsing and she can feel it on her skin. Suddenly both her hands find your hips again, and she slowly manipulates you to grind onto her.

You pull away from the kiss to look at her, hair wild and makeup smudged. You don’t care how you look, you just want her to see how she’s ruining you, puppeteering your movements as you make a mess on her thigh. Her tongue occasionally wets her lips, muttering in Croatian and whispering praises.

When Nika starts to flex her leg muscles you feel the knot building gradually. You’ve fully soaked through your underwear now, and the skirt you wore to the club was riding up to no amend. Your breathy moans turned to louder ones with her help.

“C’mon baby, keep going.” She sweetly murmurs, your forehead pressed against hers, her eyes glued to your body grinding against her skin.

You’re tired but determined to chase your high. Nika had preformed for you all day so you were happy to put on a show for her, rocking your hips to achieve that heavenly friction as she slapped your ass and kissed you sloppily.

When you cum it sends shivers down your spine, the deep knot inside your stomach unraveling. You can’t help but slump over her, sticky, hungover and exhausted.

“So good.” You mumble against her neck.

Nika traces on your back and places a soft kiss on your cheek before saying “You looked so sexy.”

You lift your head to meet her eyes, her expression is tired but satisfied. You can’t help but laugh as as you swipe her cheek with your finger and show her the stray eyelash you’d captured.

Holding your hand to her lips, you smile.

“Blow, make a wish.”

#fanfic #fanfiction #uconn wbb #smut #nika muhl x reader #nika muhl #nika mühl #f/f #rpf #uconn women’s basketball

[leviismybby]

Cat and Mouse

Levi Ackerman x fem!reader, mdni, nsfw 18+, fingering

Levi's eyes scan the rooftops, he can hear you, hear your footsteps. He launches his gear at the nearby building wall and steps on the rooftop, spotting your figure he hides behind a wall and waits for you to pass by. This time, he won't let you off the hook easily, you were gonna rush past him but Levi surprises you, spins you around and pushes you against the cold surface harshly. You grunt as your back hits the concrete, your eyes narrow immediately before they meet his grey ones. He will never learn.

"Captain." That sarcasm in your voice isn't something Levi appreciated, he jas had enough of your games. Before he speaks, he pins your hands above your head, last time you pulled a stunt, he isn't letting that happen again. "What the fuck is your problem?" You know why he is mad, you've caused him quiet the trouble, not that you regret it. "My problem? I don't have one. You clearly do." A brat, you were such a brat and he couldn't fathom what keeps him so infatuated with you. Maybe it's the fact that you're a thief that the MPs can't seem to catch or maybe is the fact that you outsmarted him both time he caught you. Either way, Levi wants it to stop.

"You have to stop. The military police will get a bounty on that shitty head of yours. You fucked it up badly this time." He was right, you did fuck it up, stealing from the Garrison just for the thrill of it. If Levi didn't know any better, he would say that you're crazy, than again, he isn't exactly normal either and he is the last person to judge you given his past as a thug. "Aww, thanks for caring, I don't care." You try to stir out of his grip and he only tightens it, keeping you still. "You're fucking insufferable you know that?" It was true, you were an annoyance for him, he had better things to do than to chase a petty thief around Trost but there was something about you that kept him coming back. He hated himself for always giving in.

"I can only say the same, Captain. Why do you care so much?" You roll your eyes, trying to find a way out of his grip but nothing seems to come to mind. He is too close to you, you can feel his breath on your cheek, this is getting dangerous. "I don't dammit. I will be the first to celebrate when your ass gets thrown in jail." Maybe he should do it, bring you in and let the militray police do as they please with you but his inner turmoil isn't letting him, he hates to admit it but he enjoys this, the chase and the games between you. His comrads would be disappointed if they knew, he knows your face, knows how you work so why doesn't he just report you? It's a problem that he can't slove tonight.

You don't say anything, the words coming out of his mouth were harsh but true, you did keep him on his feet and you enjoyed the attention. "So report me. Or is your ego not letting you." He hides things well behind that indifferent expression but his eyes tell you a different story, there is hate there, of course there is, you two hold mutual hatred for on e another however there is desire there too, it shouldn't be. It really shouldn't. Levi scoffs at your words, his fingers wrap around your neck and he squeezes, his other hand still firmly holding your wrist together. "You're the egotist one here. You and your shitty criminal jobs. How much money did you earn by selling sealed information huh? What is your game here?" That was his main problem, you stole from the survey corps too and he doesn't appreciate it one bit.

His fingers squeeze your throat again, he wants you to answer but he won't approve if you lie to him. "Enough and I enjoy the chase. Noel matter how big or minor my crime is, you always comr running after me. Why is that captain?" Now there is a question he wants answer at least not with words. Hos face inches closer to you, your noses touching. "Fucking annoying brat." You smirk, your eyes drifting to his lips, will he finally do it or will he run away from it like all those other times? You don't move away or lean in, you simply wait, eager to feel his lips agsint yours.

And just like that, a groan leaves his lips, his hand moving down to your hip and his lips crashing agsint yours. Returning the kiss immediately, you feel his grip on your wrist loosen and insted he interlocks his fingers with yours, his kiss getting more passionate. You let your hand fall to his hair, pulling him into the kiss even more, his body presses up agsint yours, the heat between you making a shiver run down your spine. You moan as his hand moves to your ass and he squeezes, loving the sounds that are leaving your mouth. He needs to hear more and he plans too. His grip gets more and more possessive, his hands start to roam your body, feeling your every curve. You can't go all the way put here, both of you know that but Levi is letting his desire for you cloud his judgement and he can't keep his hands off of you even out here.

The two of you keep kissing for some time until Levi pulls away, a string of saliva connecting your mouth to each other. Levi's eyes look you up and down, he wants to fuck you here and now but it's too risky, so he will simply have to do something else. His mouth starts kissing your neck, each kiss more sloppy than the other, you throw your head back, giving him more space, you're enjoying this more than you thought you would. A gasp leaves your swollen lips when he bites into your skin leaving marks behind. "You smell so fucking good." He says against your skin before biting again, this time he hits your sweet spot directly, making a shiver run down your spine. You grab onto his shoulders, your body pulling it self closer to his. "Desperate are you? Fucking brat." He turns you around, your hands on the cold wall, he bucks your hips sligthy and gives your ass a firm slap, fuck the things he would do to you.

He lands another slap on your ass, his body pressing fully into yours, you can feel how hard he is for you. You bite your lip and reach out for his bulge but he slaps your hand away. "No. Keep your fucking hands on the wall understood?" You nod at his words, as much you want to talk back to him, you don't want to ruin this moment so you keep quiet and listen to what he says. You keep your hands on the wall feeling his run up and down your sides before the reach your pants. His hand slides in and you gasp at his cold fingers as they reach your core, he rubs you over your panties making soft moans come put of you. "Wet aren't you? Is this waht this whole thing is about? You want me to fuck you don't you?" Bingo, thats exactly what this whole thing is about, him finally breaching his breaking point and taking you.

Your hips buck into his hands, you want more. Levi chuckles, sending another shiver down your body, this is the first time you hear him chuckle and it's making you feel things. "Yeah? Oh you would love to have my cock deep inside of you right now. Too bad you're not getting it." He nibbles on your ear as he says that, his voice horase and rough, he is turned on beyond belief. He starts to rub you again, feeling the way the fabric of your panties is getting wet, you're phehetic, acting all though while all it took is a single touch for him to get you under his control, you melt so easily, he will indulge in that. Finally his fingers slip into your underwear and feels your pussy, his fingers runs down your slit, feeling your slick and walls, you're so wet for him, fuck he really is in trouble.

He kisses your shoulder, his fingers finding your clit, you thighs close against his hand, whimpers escape your mouth. "How cute. You're phehetic, so fucking easy to break." His fingers enters you without warning, it starts of slow, he loves teasing you but as soon as he feels your warm walls clench around his finger, he starts to finger you faster. "Fuck Levi." You say, your hands steady on the wall, he knows what he is doing. As soon as you said that, he adds a second finger keeping the fast pace, your eyes start to water as he curls them hitting that soft spot. He keeps pumping his fingers in and put of you, your actions are getting him more drunk, he loves how your body shakes just from him fingering you. He needs to control himself or else his cock will be buried deep inside of you and he can't afford that.

The more you react, the faster his pace gets, you forget completely where you are. That people can see and hear you but that's the last of your worries right now. You have Levi, the captain of the survey corps, humanity's strongest soldier fingering you on top of a building. This isn't how you wanted your afternoon to go but its far better than you ever imagined. His fingers keep moving inside of you, his other hand runs under your shirt and he grabs your breast, massaging it in his hands. "Are you gonna cum for me out here?" That makes your pussy clench aagsint his fingers again, you're getting close, that pit in your stomach starts to build up but you're not queit there yet. Levi knows how to push you over the edge, his thumb adds pressure on your clit and he keeps fingering you in a fast pace, the moan that leavs you is something you should be ashamed of, oh someone definitely heard you now, not that you care. "That's it. Good girl, cum for me, let me see you fall apart."

You can't keep your hands on the wall anymore, your grabs onto his arm with both of your hands, digging your nails into his shirt as you cum. You roll your hips, riding out of your orgsam against his fingers, he keeps them inside of you even after you cum. You catch your breath, your head falling back on his shoulder, he kisses the side of your face, he removes his hand from your underwear, his fingers are soaked. "Took about two fucking minutes to make you cum. Aren't you embarrassed?" He asks you as you open your eyes, your cheeks flushed, his hand is still on your breast and he squeezes it once more before letting go and setting both of his hands on your hips. He kisses you on the lips again, the kiss is quick and sloppy.

Eventually, Levi pulls away from you, cleaning his fingers with his cloth. You turn back around, leaning against the wall. The sun is starting to set and you don't know what to say. Levi looks your way again, he fixes his gear. "Stay out out trouble or next time I am fucking you on the wall for all to see. Understood?" That makes you laugh, he had a way with words but you wouldn't mind at all. "Oh captain my captain, if that will be the outcome, I will be gladly robbing the bank next." Your words make his eyes roll, you really were a brat. You fic yourself, fix your hair and look at him again. "See you around, Captain." You wink and get off the rooftop. Levi is left there, staring at the distance until he realised something, his wallet was missing. Damn you.

#levi #levi ackerman #attack on titan #aot levi #captain levi #levi x reader #levi attack on titan #levi x you #levi ackerman x reader #levi smut #levi x y/n #levi x reader smut #levi ackerman smut #levi ackerman x reader smut #levi ackerman x y/n smut #levi ackerman x you #levi ackerman x female!reader #levi ackerman x fem!reader #levi ackerman x female reader #levi x female reader #levi x fem!reader #aot smut #aot x female reader #aot x y/n #aot x you #attack on titan smut #attack on titan x you #attack on titan x reader #aot levi ackerman #levi aot

[corrodedcoffins-blog]

Caught the L-O-V-E

masterlist

note: writing nonsense outros is the funnest thing ever

warnings: none :)

word count: 980

♡ summary: Quinn only falls more and more in love after going to his girlfriends concert

♡ Quinn Hughes x fem!reader

request ✓

The team was excited. They had been since Y/n insisted on giving them free tickets, some of the guys even brought their wives or girlfriends that were big fans. They were sat in the VIP tent, a couple fans had come to say ‘hi’ and Quinn got a few friendship bracelets he knew Y/n would love to see on the ride home.

Suddenly the screen behind started a countdown, causing the crowd to scream in excitement. And when the number got to zero out came the woman of the hour came out singing the opening lyrics of the first song. 

“Unexpected, this thing that we fell into

Like, so connected

You came at a time when my heart was selective”

When she came into the light Quinn could finally fully see her, he’d seen the outfit backstage before the show but it looked even better in the spotlight. Her short white skirt complemented her tan skin and puffed out at her hips to accentuate her hips.

This song was written at the start of their relationship, he knew Y/n was nervous about what would happen when they had to be long distance after they made it official, but after hearing her concerns Quinn made it his job to constantly call and make it work. And it did.

When the first song came to an end and when the cheering died down, Y/n started talking to the crowd. Even after performing for so long, and getting to bigger and better stages, talking to fans was still her favourite part of the show.

“Hello, Vancouver! It’s so nice to meet you all! But I just have to point out, during that first song I saw a sign! I think it was over here!” She walked across to the other side out the stage, reading the signs as she meant along, finally stopping when she found it, “Yeah here it is! The sign says ‘I’d never make you get on top’ and that is so kind thank you so much!”

Quinn had always admired Y/n stage presence, the way when she was on stage or in front of a camera all eyes were on her. And of course her ability to be effortlessly funny. He admired her as she continued to talk to fans and about the next song, he knew the setlist like the back of his hand so he didn’t listen too hard to the explanation since he lived it. 

He more so paid attention to the smile that was on her face, she was in her element and he loved seeing her on stage, just like how she loves watching him play. Her hair cascaded down her back, the curls were shiny in the bright lights, her bangs were perfect as always as well as the pieces that framed her face beautifully. 

What eventually broke him from his loving gaze was the crowd yelling the lyrics to a song written about him. 

“He’s good for my heart, but he’s bad for business”

He admired her more, loving the sound of her voice and her subtle dance moves, mostly the sway of her hips. After that song song and many more it was the second to last song of the night. Really Quinn was just thankful that after this son he could go backstage and wait to meet Y/n as soon as she gets off.

“Think I only want one number in my phone!”

He loved watching his girl dance on stage to this song, he loved watching how much fun she had and how much fun the fans had singing along. He looked around at his group and it seemed the Canuck’s girls were having just as much fun. And the Canucks had fun patting Quinn on the back during the song.

“I caught the L-O-V-E

How do you do this to me?” 

That, despite popular belief, was his favourite line of the song. Because it was when she first showed him this song that she said she loved him. Her own, right on brand, silly way of telling him and he loved her for that. She made it even better by looking at him while she sang it, neither told anyone of how they first said it, it was just between them.

“Woke up this morning thought I’d write a-!” “POP HIT”

“How quickly can you take your clothes off!” “POP QUIZ!”

Everyone quieted down when it got to the time of the outro, the most anticipated and shared part of the show.

“He said that I taste like sugar, he’s a little younger, don't call me a cougar, c’mon you know I love you, Vancouver!”

The words about his age caused him to lower his head, while shaking it, laughing under his breath and a rose colour coming to his cheeks. The security came over after the outro to escort him backstage. Which he was happy about since it meant he didn’t have to stick around for any teasing from his teammates.

He got to catch the last few lines of Y/n’s closing number from backstage, they directed him to where she was supposed to leave the stage so he could see her first. Which he did. 

She yelled her goodbyes and sent for her kisses to the crowd as she disappeared backstage and as soon as she saw Quinn she ran to him, he lifted her up so her legs wrapped around his waist and her arms were around his neck, he supported her under her thighs.

“You were amazing, baby.” “Thank you. I love you!” “I love you too, so much. I’m so proud of you.” 

She brought her face out of his neck and leaned up to press a kiss to his lips, not caring about  the crew that could see them, she only cared about him. And him about her.

#quinn hughes #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes x female reader #quinn hughes x fem!reader #quinn hughes x fem reader #quinn hughes fic #quinn hughes fanfiction #quinn hughes x famous!reader #quinn hughes x y/n #quinn hughes imagine

[calicoheartz]

could you do dating Caitlin and when your out some girl recognizes her and asks for pictures and reader gets a lil jealous with smut?!?!?!

Envy’s Veil ; Caitlin Clark

꣑୧ — summary | Caitlin x jealous!reader

wc ; 1.4k

— warnings | NSFW under the cut ! praise (lots of it) so much sweet tension , teasing , fingering (r! receiving)

my master list ㇀♡

a/n : the time has finally arrived for my first ever smut fic 😈 pls forgive me as it is very light as im slowly easing myself into it , buuut i hope u guys enjoy ! ◡̈

After a week of long practices and conflicting schedules, you and Caitlin decided to take some time and unwind at a local bar. The atmosphere was lively, with music playing in the background, and the sound of chatter and laughter filling your ears around you. You found a cozy booth in the corner and settled in, simply enjoying the time with your girlfriend, grateful at the opportunity to spend time with her.

As you sipped your respective drinks and continued your conversation, the brunettes eyes widened in recognition, as you saw a young woman excitedly approach your table from the corner of your eye.

“Oh my gosh! Caitlin Clark right??” the woman exclaimed, her phone already out and grasped around her hand, ready for a selfie.

Caitlin smiled softly, nodding slightly, “thats me, would you like a picture?”

The woman nodded eagerly, wrapping her arm around your girlfriend's waist and Cait stood up to pose with her. You watched from the booth, a small pang of jealousy tugging at your heart. You knew Cait was just being friendly, but you couldn't help but feel a tad bit overprotective over her. I mean, that was YOUR girlfriend, and the woman was practically throwing herself at her ???? But you couldn't help but feel a little bit insecure.

You kindly offered to take their picture, and it ended as quickly as it started. The woman gave a quick thank you, before rushing back to the booth where her friends were. But even after it was all over, you still couldn't shake the feeling of insecurity and jealousy.

Caitlin, noticing something was off, as the evening continued you seemed quiet, almost as if something was on your mind. She grabs your face, caressing your cheek softly, her other free hand wrapping her fingers against yours. She softly whispers , “hey, is everything ok?”

You give her a small, but doubtful smile. Reassuring her you were okay and just tired. For the rest of the night, you were anxiously attached to her at the hip. Whether it was asking for a few kisses every now and then, or asking to hold her hand, this definitely made the brunette aware that you were in fact, not okay. And that beneath the surface there was something bothering you, she just couldn’t figure out what.

Eventually, Caitlin couldn’t take it anymore. She gently grabbed your wrist and led you to the bar’s exit, and proceeded to drive the both of you back to your shared apartment. Among the confusement, you simply figured that the brunette had caught onto your message. But obviously you yourself were never going to mention it, it wasn’t typically like you to get jealous, plus it really wasn’t that big of a deal. All you wanted right now was to go home, get into bed, and forget that it ever even happened.

Well…that isn’t what happened.

As soon as you got home, you proceeded with your everyday nighttime routine. Beginning to slowly slip off your heels, and beginning to remove your jacket. You hadn’t really spoken much to Caitlin during the drive, and you wanted to keep it that way. The last thing you wanted her to know was how badly you wanted her to show you that she was yours, and obviously that you were even jealous to begin with.

Caitlin on the other hand, noticed your behavior (to be fair, you didn’t even try to hide it), and how you also hadn’t said anything during your drive back home. She wasn’t sure exactly how to make sure you were okay, as to her knowledge; you rarely acted like this.

You made your way to the living room and plopped onto the corner of the couch, with Caitlin following right behind you. She took a deep sigh before breaking the silence, “Are you going to tell me what’s wrong?” your eyes widened at her sudden comment, as your fingers found their way to the hem of your blouse, you started fiddling with it slightly, only giving her a small pout in reply.

The brunette noticed this, and it immediately all clicked.

Oh. that’s why you were acting weird.

As soon she took note of this, she quickly scooched closer to you, wrapping her arms around your figure and burying her face in your neck, leaving small kisses over the piece of skin. A small moan escaped from your lips as a surprise at the sudden contact, Caitlin began tracing sweet shapes on the inside of your thigh, as she slowly whispered, “why don’t i show you how much you really mean to me, yeah?”

You nodded your head slightly, taken completely aback by her statement. But the idea of Caitlin doing anything to you in general is enough to have you completely soaked. She gently lifted you up, carrying you from the living room and into your shared bed, and softly putting you down. She had a feral look in her eye, but you knew deep down she would take good care of you. She tugged at the beautiful black fitted dress you were wearing, waiting for your approval to remove it, once she got it; she wasted no time slowly unzipping the back and gently slipping it off you. Caitlin had begun to feel your entire body, running her finger tips up and down your arms, slowly itching her way down your sides, before the began rubbing the inside of your thighs again.

You allowed a small whimper to leave your mouth at Cait’s free hand sliding down your exposed stomach, her lips kissing your neck and jawline as she allowed her fingers to wander closer and closer to your aching core.

“Do you want me to touch you here, my sweet girl?” she hummed into you, the special spot on your neck vibrating. You let out a light, but breathy moan. “Yes please, cait.” you said back, watching as her hand rested teasingly on your pussy. Your words seemed to have been good enough for her, as her palm lifted up, fingers feeling around for a certain nub.

You let out a pornographic moan when she briefly brushed against it, purposefully trying not to touch you at first. Your eyes were hazed with want, watching her long and slender fingers touch you, and only you while she sucked and kissed at your neck.

“Here?” she asked, as she slowly circled your clit with her thumb, pressing down on the nub while doing so. You let out a gasp at the sudden rush of pleasure. Your breath hitched as you let out a desperate plea for more. Two of her fingers joined together to rub you, her fingers working slowly and softly. Carefully rubbing your clit, up and down, side to side. Playing with it, toying with you-

She smiled smugly, giving you the most delicate kiss on your lips. As soon as she accumulated enough of your slick on her fingers, she wasted no time slowly prodding at your entrance, slipping 2 fingers into your core, as she listened for your reaction. She didnt have to listen very hard, as the moan you let out left her own wetness pooling in between her thighs.

Caitlin studied your face, observing the way it contorted from both the plain and pleasure, giving you enough time to adjust to the sudden pleasure before slowly pumping her fingers in and out, before quickening her pace.

“You’re doing so good for me,” she whispered sweetly, not taking her eyes off of you. “Look at you, taking me so well, just like a good girl should.”

She begins to tease you slightly, slowing her pace down and slowly rubbing your clit, but shes pushing her fingers so deep that you have to screw your eyes shut.

Caitlin knows youre sensitive, melting at slightest touch, you can feel your insides slowly begin to squeeze around her fingers, indicating that youre close.

“Yes just like that baby, come on, youre almost there” she whispers, “such a good girl, do you wanna cum on my fingers?” she asks teasingly. You eagerly nod your head, words not even daring to come our of your mouth due to the immense pleasure that youre feeling.

Your buried your head into her shoulder as you reached your high, your sweet cries muffled by the fabric of her shirt. She held her fingers in your for a couple of seconds, helping you through your orgasm; before carefully sliding them out. Your entire body shivering at the mere absence of them.

She smirked proudly, slowly bringing her fingers to her mouth before sucking them clean. A ritual she does after every time she makes you finish with her fingers.

She pulled you into a hug, kissing your head softly, “You did so good for me, good job baby”, as she gently rubbed circles onto your back.

“If that does show you how much i want you, then Im not sure what will”

omg wait that was lowkey…ok miss camiii 🫣👀 , anywhooo not sure how I feel about writing nsfw , but I will definitely keep it in mind for the future. As always , tysm for reading !

#wlw #wlw imagine #caitlin clark smut #wlw smut #smut #wcbb #caitlin clark #paige bueckers #headcannons #my hcs #caitlin clark x reader #wcbb x reader #iowa wbb #22 #iowa women’s basketball #iowa hawkeyes #hawkeye #kate martin #omgggg #praise k!nk #praise kink go brrrr