goodnight see you later


hello! i got this fic idea based off this post and IM SO PROUD OF THIS FIC OH MY GOD!! btw theyre 18 in current time, 16 in the flashback

thank u for reading and thank u anna for the idea and letting me write it.

summary: richie is the lead singer of a popular garage band in derry and eddie is his ex-best friend

pairing: richie x eddie

words: 1070

“Richie, we’re on in ten,” Stan yelled from across the backstage and Richie nodded, shoving the mic pack in his back pocket. Bill tossed him a mic, which he turned on and tested it quickly. It worked fine. He placed it on the mic stand, looking to see if everyone had their instruments set up. It looked great and they practiced all week long, but Richie was nervous as hell. It was their biggest gig, 100 people. It wasn’t a lot, but it was to their small band. They had built it up from nothing and they finally got somewhere, even if it was just popular in their hometown of Derry.
   The lights were making Richie sweat even more than he already had been. Less than a minute to go.
   “Five… four…” Richie’s heart was pounding, his knuckles turning white from the grip he had on the microphone. “Three… two…” A drip of sweat fell down his face. “One…”
   The curtains pulled back and cheers erupted from the crowd. A smile broke out across Richie’s face, all of his nerves washing away somehow. “Hey, guys! How’s everyone doing?” His question got cheers in response. “We’ve got a couple songs for you tonight, all classics and requests from you guys, and I hope you enjoy.”
   The band played exceptionally and Richie’s vocals were phenomenal. Richie always got really into it. Headbanging, dancing, you name it. Richie had done it. Performing could arguably be his favorite thing in the world. It gave him a sense of pride knowing he could do something fantastic. They really were a great garage band, if you could even call them that anymore. “Alright everyone, that’s the last song for tonight. Our next gig is at the school dance, attend if you can. It’s free and I know everyone loves that.” Richie chuckled, gazing into the audience. As he did, his eyes landed on a familiar face that he hadn’t seen in nearly two years. Eddie Kaspbrak.
   A smile broke out across his face. He had to talk to him.
   “See you all later, goodnight!” The cheers faded as the curtains shut. Sweat was rolling off Richie’s face and his hair was soaked. His glasses would’ve been fogged, but for gigs, Richie wore contacts. They didn’t help him see as much as his glasses but it was enough for him to perform with.
   Richie hopped off the stage, going into the outgoing crowd in search of his former best friend. He spotted him, nearly walking out the door. “Eddie!” He called.
Eddie came to a stop and turned on his heel, seeing a waving Richie Tozier. He debated on whether or not to keep walking but missing his four-eyed friend won out over reason. “Hey, Richie.” He spoke softly, his voice deeper than Richie remembered.
“How are ya?” Richie asked, smiling and leaning against a wall.
Eddie shrugged nonchalantly. “Fine. How are you?”
Richie grinned. “I’m fantastic. I haven’t seen you in a while.”
Eddie nodded. “Yeah, I know. I have to go-”
Before Eddie could fully turn around, Richie grabbed his arm. “I know you’re probably still pissed at me-”
“Of course I am, Richie! You dropped me for your stupidass band and more popular friends. I get that. I don’t need you trying to pity me.”
Richie was baffled. He knew he fucked up, but he did not choose popularity over Eddie. He’s his best friend.
Was. Eddie was Richie’s best friend.

“Are you nervous?” Eddie asked, gently nudging Richie in the side. Richie shook his head, throwing his arm over Eddie’s shoulder. “I’m too good to be nervous.” He replied, pushing his glasses up further on his nose.
Eddie rolled his eyes, shoving Richie away from him. “You’re arrogant.”
Richie waved his finger in Eddie’s face. “I do believe the accurate term is confident, darling.” He said proudly, faking a British accent.
“Beep beep, Richie.”
Just as Richie started to reply, Stan and Bill came around the corner. “Rich, we’re on in ten. Let’s go.”
Richie scoffed. “I’ll be there in a minute, calm your tits there Bill.”
Bill rolled his eyes and him and Stan walked off.
“I’ll see you after,” Richie said, pinching Eddie’s cheek and walking off. “See ya, Eds!”
Afterwards, however, Richie was nowhere to be found. Eddie searched for about ten minutes, before finding him talking to a group of popular kids from their school. He approached the group, gently tapping Richie on the shoulder. “Yeah, I’ll be with you in a minute, Eddie.”
Eddie nodded in understanding. That minute turned into ten minutes, that turned into 20, then half an hour. He got tired of waiting for him and left. Eddie was pissed. He felt tears welling up in his eyes and he couldn’t help but cry. He loved Richie, he just wished Richie loved him back.

“I didn’t choose popularity over you, Eds-”
“Yeah, you did. Every damn day you chose them over me and I’m done. I’m leaving.” Eddie grumbled, trying to pull his arm out of Richie’s grip, who hadn’t quite let go yet.
“Eddie, please,” Richie spoke softly. “Give the Trashmouth another chance.”
Eddie looked him up and down, trying to make a wise choice. He either A, accept this plea and possibly become friends again, which in turn would start up Eddie’s crush once more or B, walk away and never talk to Richie again. He searched Richie’s eyes for any sort of sign that he’d be lying, but all he got was regret and guilt. With a sigh, Eddie relented.
“Fine. But don’t fuck it up.”
Richie smiled, using his grip on Eddie’s forearm to his advantage. He pulled Eddie towards himself, wrapping his arms around his smaller frame in a hug. Eddie hesitated, but slowly wrapped his arms around the other boy.
Richie pulled away, running a hand through his still sweaty hair. “I’ll catch you around, yeah?”
Eddie nodded. “Yeah.” He turned to walk away and paused. “You look cuter with glasses on, by the way.” And with that, he walked off. A shit eating grin spread across Richie’s face as he walked backstage to meet up with Stan.


okay ik he didnt “Confess his love” because i wanted to do a part two!!!

so lemme know if y’all want that too???

also send me a message or an off anon ask to be on the taglist, much love 


ask to be on taglist/request a part dos

thank u so much for reading <3

Preferences: First ‘I Love You’s

Requested by @aelinashryvergalathynius22 (I worked on this instead of part 7 oh well I needed a distraction)


He says it right before you’re about to leave for a long time. He kisses you passionately and whispers it into your mouth and then sends you on your way before you can even reciprocate the feelings. You cherish the words close to your heart every time you miss him - which is all the time - and a lovesick smile never fails to make it’s way onto your lips every time. When you get back, you race right into his strong arms, feeling home, holding him tightly as he lifts you from the ground. ‘I love you too,” You murmur into his shoulder, and Rowan’s arms tighten just a bit. You don’t part for many minutes. 


He’s known it ever since he first saw you. He’s wanted to say it every day, every moment since then, but has reigned himself in, refusing to lose you because he can’t control his emotions. Finally, a good couple months after you are together, Rhys finally says it. You’re on a bridge of all places - Rhys says it was so he could jump off it if you had a bad reaction and you slap him for talking that way - and you are both looking out at the slowly flowing river and the sunset just beyond the horizon. His arms are curved around your waist, his chin resting on your shoulder and he finally works up the courage to say what he has wanted to for what seems like forever. ‘I love you,’ he announces, tensing just a bit when you don’t respond right away. He awkwardly coughs, ‘just thought you should know.’ You chuckle, relaxing into his hold and leaning back into his chest a bit. “Rhys, I love you too, I didn’t think this was hidden knowledge.’ And that’s when Rhysand realizes that he wasn’t actually being as discrete about his feelings as he thought, and those three words don’t have to be said for both of them to know they are true. 


He says it for the first time during sex, which, for such a avid book reader and romance enthusiast, is actually a bit disappointing. To make up for it though, Dorian worships your body, murmuring those three words into each and every crevice and corner of it. ‘I love you,’ he whispers again when both of your are spent, tucking your into his side and kissing your temple ‘I love you so much, you don’t even know.’ ‘Well you gave me a pretty good estimate just then,’ you giggle, tracing random patterns along his chest. ‘You’re wicked, you know that right?’ He chuckles. ‘I know, but you love me,’ He murmurs into your hair, ‘That I do,’ That thought running through your head sends large waves of tingles throughout your body, making your toes curl and your cheeks hurt with how much you are smiling. Dorian loves you.

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MariChat May Day 12: Sleepover

This is for @sybaritismfics!  She’s another talented fellow author, who offered her friendship.  :)

“Marinette, why is Chat Noir climbing in through your window?”

Marinette turned from her screen to look at a very bemused Alya, and then at the black cat who was now sitting frozen in shock on her bed. She should have expected it, really.  As much as they were both at her house, it was a miracle that it hadn’t happened already.  But this was Saturday night, and Chat usually didn’t come on a Saturday unless he had to miss Friday, so having Alya stay over that night should have been safe.  What was he doing here two nights in a row?  

“Earth to Marinette?”

She blinked, and realized that Alya was still staring at her expectantly. “Uh, patrolling?” she said intelligently.

Chat’s eyes darted in panic between them.  “Yeah, patrolling!  I was just conducting an in-depth patrol, visiting totally random citizens in their homes, but, um, I can see that there’s no akuma here, so I’ll just, uh, be on my way—”

“Oh, no you don’t!”  Alya leapt up and grabbed his tail, catching him with his torso already half outside.  She coiled the end of it around her fist and tugged, smirking.  “If you don’t stick around, then you’re going to leave poor Marinette to face interrogation alone.”

Chat sighed and dropped back to the bed, pulling the trap door closed behind him.


“Don’t ‘Alya’ me, M,” she tossed back, making herself comfortable on the chaise.  “You’re the one who’s been secretly meeting with one half of Paris’s super duo.  And don’t even try to tell me this was the first time.  That cat has obviously been here before.”

“Ok, so, maybe he’s been here once or twice before—”

“The cat’s out of the bag now, Princess.”  He dropped to the floor next to where Marinette still sat in her desk chair, and leaned his head against her knee.  “You might as well come clean.  You know the Ladyblogger better than I do, but even I know she’s not gonna quit till she gets her scoop.”

Alya’s eyes had lit at his use of her nickname, and Marinette groaned.  “Now you’ve done it, you mangy cat.”

“ ‘Princess’?  He has a pet name for you?  Girl, how long have you been holding out on me?”

“A while?”  She shrugged.  “I don’t really remember when it started.  And it wasn’t that often at first.”

Alya’s hands twitched on her phone, like she was itching to start recording this like an interview.  “How did it even start?”

“I was out on my balcony one evening, and I saw him vaulting around the rooftops.  I said hi, and he came and sat on my balcony for a while, and…”  She shrugged again, and thoughtlessly dropped her hand onto his head and began to absently scratch his ears.  Chat pushed his head into her hand and closed his eyes happily under her ministrations.

Alya noted both of these things with interest, but didn’t interrupt.

“And I came back,” Chat said without opening his eyes, “because she’s good company.  And she feeds me.”

Alya laughed.  “Marinette, don’t you know better than to feed strays?”

“Well, I do now,” she laughed.

“Hey!”  He lifted his head to glare at her indignantly.

“You know I’m only teasing, Chaton.”  His expression eased, and he put his head against her knee once more.

Alya’s brows climbed up into her hairline, but she still didn’t comment.  “So why didn’t you tell me that you’ve had a superhero visiting your bedroom, Mari?”

“I don’t know,” she shrugged yet again.  “The first time, I thought it was a one-time thing.  And what was I going to say, ‘Chat Noir just happened by my balcony yesterday, and kept me company for a few hours’ ?”

“A few hours?”

“We were bored.”

“Uh huh.”

“Whatever.”  Marinette waved a hand dismissively.  “I just didn’t mention it.  I mean, I told my parents, because I didn’t want them to freak out, but it…just didn’t really occur to me to tell anyone else.”

“I’m glad she didn’t,” Chat put in quietly.  “If it got out that I like to come here, it might put her family in danger.  And if it got out that she’s a friend of mine, it would definitely put her in danger.”

“I guess I can see that.”  Alya nodded thoughtfully.  “So, you guys are just…friends?  What do you do?”

“Whatever, really.  Play Mecha Strike, watch movies, do homework…”

“I help her with her physics.”  Chat grinned.  “And model for her when she needs a muse.”

“With, or without the suit?”

“Alya!”  Marinette just knew that her face was scarlet.

“What?  It’s a valid question.”

Chat laughed, and waggled his brows suggestively.  “With the suit, this time.  But next time?  Who knows.”

She pulled her fingers from his hair, and nudged his head with her knee.  “Ugh, Chat, I think it’s time for you to go.”

“Do I have to?”  He pouted.

“Yes.  Go.  I’ll see you…another time.  Ok?”

“Fine.  A cat knows when he’s not wanted.”  He stood and winked at Marinette with his back to the chaise, so that Alya wouldn’t see.  Then climbed the ladder to Marinette’s loft bed, and pushed open the door in the ceiling.  “See you later, Ladyblogger.  Goodnight, Princess,” he called down, and then he was gone, the door closed quietly behind him.

Alya turned back to Marinette, who was still staring at the skylight with a soft smile.  “Marinette Dupain-Cheng, are you dating Chat Noir?!”

Texting goodnight
  • Delirious: Goodnight. Love you!!
  • -Five minutes later, Vanoss sees the text-
  • Vanoss: Night.
  • Delirious: Goodnight love you!!!
  • Vanoss: goodnight, love you too!
  • Delirious: Night Vanoss! :*
  • Vanoss: [Vain pops] Good. Fucking. Night. Delirious.
  • Delirious: Love you!
  • Vanoss: [internal screaming]
Does Someone Need A Hug? Sebastian Stan x reader

I tried to edit this as best as i could. I pasted this from Wattpad and its one of my first couple of writings.

Summary: When you got Comi-con tickets, you were beyond happy. when it came to asking a question the Sebastian Stan himself… you get nervous. He thinks you need some comfort, as does everyone else. But, he does something that changes your life.

Warnings: Cursing? none really mostly fluff. This is so bad i’m sorry.

Keep reading

Underwear (Part 2)

Summary: Given your newly discovered feelings for each other, you and Peter engage in some private activities. 

Word Count: 4344

Warnings: smut, swearing


Part 1  Part 3  Part 4  Part 5  Part 6  Part 7

Given the newfound revelation of you and Peter’s feelings for each other, the sexual tension between you two had grown taught like a rubber band that was seconds away from snapping, both of you playing a small teasing game that had the both of you begging for more.

When the pizza was finished, Peter had stood up from his bed and stretched, making a somewhat timid and shy show of his shirt riding up to expose his abs, blushing lightly and pretending nothing had happened as he took the empty box and shuffled out of the room, moving to go to the kitchen. You raised an eyebrow at his action, smirking when you saw the game he was trying to play.

Game on, Parker.

You were still slightly limited by your injuries, the stitches on your upper thigh threatened to tear, limiting you from bending over, but luckily most of the soreness had healed. Groaning softly as you stand up, you chuckle as you go through your poorly-sought out plan, hoping it’ll work on him.

Tucking your phone into the large pocket of Peter’s sweatpants, you saunter out into the kitchen, subtly pulling down the top of your tank top a few centimetres. Peter’s face lights up when he sees you, and you have to remind yourself to stay on task. “Hey Y/N.” His voice is casual, but he has a teasing smile decorating his face, so you know he’s still playing the game.

“Hey Peter! So, I was thinking…” You slowly run your right arm up and down his bicep, then sliding your hand up to rest behind his neck, pushing his face to yours. He responds almost instantly, resting an arm on your lower back, holding you closer to him.

He brings up his other hand and uses it to cup your face, using the hand that’s on your lower back to press you up against him even closer than you were before. Running a hand through his hair, you grind yourself against him as you feel his crotch pressing against your stomach. He moans, sliding his tongue into your mouth, using the hand that was on your face to move to your middle back. 

Now he’s got both of his hands on your back, holding you against him as you bring up both of your arms to cross them around his neck. The two of you move smoothly and in sync, the only sounds being your lips moving together or the moans you evoke from each other.

Your phone begins vibrating in your pocket, which happens to be right where you’re pushed up against Peter. He throws his head back and lets out a hard breath, momentarily breaking you out of your trance. You and Peter slightly pant, eyes locked as you both try to regain your breath. 

“You shou- you should probably get that.” He leans down to peck you on the cheek, your plan going awry. You swiftly pull the phone out of your pocket, eyes widen once you see the contact name. “Shit!” you answer the call and step away, hoping you don’t sound too flustered.

“Hey Tony!” You try to keep your voice upbeat, wincing as you anticipate the scolding you’re going to receive for forgetting to check in after dealing with the bank robbery. “Y/N! We’re all worried sick! Where the hell are you?” Peter hears who’s on the other end of the phone and steps away, as if Tony could hurt him through the device. 

“I’m so sorry for not checking in! It’s just that I got hurt during the fight and ended up at a friend’s house, he was really close by.”

“Hold on, Natasha wants to talk to you.” You hear the phone being passed over and Peter mouths what looks like “Speaker?”, so you roll your eyes and comply, playing the call out loud as you and Peter walk over to the kitchen table, taking your seats.

“Y/N! You okay?” Your heart warms at her concern, the two of you had an almost sister-like bond. “Yeah Nat, I’m fine. After the thing at the bank I went over to my friend’s house so he could help me with my injuries.” You hear comotion in the background, people’s voices overlapping each other as you’re bombarded with questions. 

“Natasha! Did you put me on speaker?” She goes to answer when Steve’s voice joins the conversation, answering your question and making Peter freeze in his seat. “She put you on speaker because I asked her to, we all wanted to make sure you were alright. Also who is this friend you mentioned? Is it that Peter kid?” 

“Yeah it is, he helped stitch my cut.” Tony cuts in again, frustrating you. The call shouldn’t be lasting this long! “Cockblock…” You murmur, Peter emitting a snicker. “Did you say Peter? As in Peter Parker?” You nod, wanting the call to end already.

“Yeah, I did. We know about each other’s ‘secret identities’ if that’s what you were wondering. Why didn’t any of you tell me?” Peter laughs nervously under his breath and smiles at you sheepishly, the gesture alone making you want to squeal. 

“Peter told us he wanted to tell you himself, just like you did. You can’t exaclty be mad at us.” Peter shrugs and tilts his head to the side, grinning at you the whole time. You gingerly take his hand in yours, caressing his knuckle with your thumb absentmindedly. 

“I guess you’re right. Anyway is that all from you guys? Peter and I are both very tired.” You scoot your chair over so that you’re next to him, and in response he drapes an arm around your shoulders. “I assume you’ll be spending the night then?” You look at Peter for assurance and he nods, bending his head down to kiss you on the cheek. “Yeah, I will.”

You hear Natasha say “Tony, No.”, and you scrunch you eyebrows up in confusion. “In that case, I want to talk to Peter for a second.” You feel him freeze next to you, taking the arm that was around you and placing it back into his lap. Peter speaks up, looking down at the phone in apprehension. 

You allow an evil smirk to pass onto your face, deciding now was the best time to tease Peter. You turn your head to the side and lightly kiss his jawline, watching Peter struggle to focus as Tony engages in conversation. “Hey Peter! How’s it going?” You move on to kiss his neck as he responds, awkwardly shifting in his seat.

“G-good, Mr. Stark. What about you?” You take a hand and rest it on his knee, gradually moving it up. Peter sees where you’re going and tries to ignore you, staring directly at the phone on the table.

“I’m great, listen- I don’t want any funny business going on between you and Y/N, you hear me?” Your hand is now on his upper thigh, and Peter squeezes his eyes shut as he clenches his jaw. “Spiderboy, you there?” Peter opens his mouth to respond, and you take the opportunity to palm him through his jeans.

Peter inhales through his nose harshly and breathes out, bringing a fist to his mouth and biting his knuckle to keep in his noises. “Y-yeah Mr. Stark, understood.” You keep tenderly kissing his neck, lightly sucking on his pulse point.  

“Okay guys, I guess I’ll let you go now.” Tony finishes and Peter sighs in relief, only to suck in a deep breath as you start moving your palm in small circles. “Goodnight guys!” You call out, reaching to tap the red button. Peter gently grabs your wrist, pulling it back and raising an eyebrow when you gaze at him in confusion.

“Wait Mr. Stark! Y/N wants to talk to Wanda.” He states, then bending down to whisper in your ear, "I think you’re being really unfair, that’s not nice you know.” Wanda’s voice comes through the receiver, and you’re momentarily relieved by her words. 

“Y/N, I’m about to go to my room. Can I just talk to you tomorrow?” You childishly stick your tongue out at Peter, taking the phone in your hands. “Yeah that sounds good Wanda, I’ll see you later. Goodnight everyone!” You end the call before anyone can reply, and are immediately met by lips on yours. 

“Sorry Peter,” you tease, pulling away to look him straight in the eyes. “I could make it up to you differently if you want?” You arch an eyebrow and bite your lip, the nervous energy coursing through you. You knew something was about to happen, you wanted something to happen, you were just extremely timid about the whole situation. You were pretty sure Peter was too, but you liked and trusted him.

Your reciprocated trust and affection towards each other gave the two of you the strength to do something togehter, but that didn’t mean you both weren’t going to be shaky and awkward about it the whole time. It was going to be both your first times after all. Peter lets out a nervous laugh, you two realizing what you’re about to get into.

He looks at you seriously, offering a small smile as he leans in to kiss you quickly on the lips, talking when he pulls away. “Are you sure you want to do this?” You rest your forehead against his, your heart beating erratically.

“I’m sure. You?” 

Peter nods and grins giddily, rising rom his seat and offering you a hand. Gladly taking it, you can’t help but match his expression as the two of you walk to his room. Just as you’re walking into his room, your toe bangs against his doorway and the familiar pain floods your foot, 

“Son of a bitch!” You hop on one leg and grab your foot with the other, minding your healing thigh injury. Peter glances down at you with widened eyes, shutting the door behind him and rushing over to you. Seating yourself on his bed, he joins you, inspecting the foot you’re still holding in your hand.

“Are you okay?” His voice is laced with concern and you can’t help but study his face, feeling the pain fade away as you admire his features. “Yeah I just,” Stifling a giggle, you snicker. “I stubbed my toe.” You explain, bursting into laughter as you analize how great the timing of your incident was.

Peter is stunned for a few seconds but soon joins you in your laughter, and before you realize it the two of you are laughing, clutching your stomachs and wiping tears off of your faces. “We were about to-” You try speaking, wheezing and only prolonging your laughter. Peter’s laughter is briefly suspended, bringing a hand up to wipe a tear off your face, “And then you-” 

Gasping for breath, your laughter dies down, still releasing a small giggle every now and then as the two of you begin pressing your lips together. After about a minute, Peter rests his hands on your hips, cautiously bringing you to straddle him. All laughter has faded, but the feeling of safety is still there, making the process comfortable for the both of you.

Peter begins peppering light kisses down your jaw, breaking away to change your position so that you’re underneath him. “I don’t want you to get hurt.” The content he’s expressing for you is astounding, and it leaves you wondering how you got so lucky. Looking up at him with innocent eyes, you beam at him. “You’re amazing.” You state, your voice barely above a whisper.

His face lights up like a christmas tree, and he bends his head down to kiss you, then moving on to kiss and suck along your collarbone. His fingers wander down your curves and fiddle with the hem of your shirt, looking at you for permission.

You silently nod, moving to sit up so he can slide the shirt off of your body. You watch his reaction and it’s priceless, his pupils dilating and his mouth dropping open as he freezes, taking in your bra-clad chest. “I um… what should I do now?” 

You giggle shyly, propping yourself up on your elbows. “Remember how I said I’d make it up to you for teasing you when you were on the phone?” Peter visibly swallows, sitting back on his knees and wiping his hands on his jeans. “Yeah?”

“Switch places with me, Parker.” The two of you do an awkward shuffle on the bed, finally sighing when you’re straddling him. You do an experimental grind of your hips against his groin, sighing in satisfaction when he lets out a small moan. 

Taking your time, you kiss your way down to his collarbone from his jaw, fiddling with the hem of his shirt as he did to you. Instead of waiting for you to take off his shirt, he does it himself, ripping it off as fast as he can. Laying back down, you get back to work, skimming his chest with your teeth and steadily moving farther and farther down his body.

Peter lets out a loud groan when you reach his v-line, grinding his hips up. You respond by running your fingers along the edge of his pants, looking up at him with an arched eyebrow. “Can you um…” Peter blushes as he trails off, not knowing how to put his request.

“Take your pants off?” You finish for him, chuckling and flashing him a grin. “Y-yeah, if you want to.” He stutters, still flustered from all the actions the two of you are making. “I really want to.” You look up at him from your position at his crotch, unbuttoning his jeans. 

You tug down his pants, his excitement making itself more prominent, its only cover being Peter’s thin boxers. You pull at the denim until they come all the way off, making a dramatic show of holding them in the air and dropping them onto the floor. 

Peter lets out a small laugh, resting his head on the pillow and watching you through his hazel eyes. You tug his boxers down, not stopping until you’ve taken them completely off of his body. Deciding you could turn the situation up one more notch, you sit up on your knees and reach behind yourself, unclasping your bra and letting it fall to the floor next to Peter’s jeans.

Peter’s eyes expand and he gasps under his breath, watching you nervously swallow as you anticipate his reaction. “You’re beautiful…” he groans, his voice muddled with lust and affection. You blush under his gaze, moving your head down and testing the waters by sucking his tip into your mouth.

Peter moans a broken “oh,” feeling his heart beat swiftly in his chest. You slowly sink your mouth farther down on him, hollowing out your cheeks and moaning when you feel him hit the back of your throat. “Oh my god, oh my god.” Peter whispers, causing you to purse your lips around his length in an attempt to not laugh, which only incites Peter to groan.

After a minute of teasing him, you pick up your pace, adding your right hand into the mix. You suck hard at the tip, running your tongue along its underside as you continue to stroke him. Peter’s letting out incoherent moans the entrie time, all of a sudden clearing his throat to stop you.

You release him, looking up to his flushed face curiously. “As awesome as that was, I don’t want to um- finish yet.” You nod your head in understanding, silently stepping off of the bed to remove your pants. Just as you move to stand up, Peter stops you, gingerly grabbing your wrist.

“Could I do that for you? I kinda wanted to try something.” His words went straight your core, making you subtly arch your back as you go to sit back on the bed. Peter moves you so that you’re back underneath him, caging you in with his forearms resting beside your head. He smiles down at you and presses a tender kiss to your lips, the traces of happiness never leaving his face as he pulls off the sweatpants you’re wearing, adding them to the growing pile of clothing on the floor.

He’s met by your underwear, and being the gentle boy you’ve grown to like, asks you if you’re okay. “Do you want me to do this?” He rests his hands on your hips, having moved them from beside you to your curves as he waits for your reply, sitting back on his knees. 

“Please.” You plead, moving your hips up at him. He chuckles timidly, tugging your underwear down and placing it neatly on the bedroom floor. Peter sucks in a breath at what he sees, feeling himself getting as hard as he’s ever been. Slowly kissing down your naval, he moves to your inner thigh, drawing from you a high-pitched moan. 

He tests to see what makes you tick as he uses two fingers to gather slick, teasing your hole as he gently prods in and out with the tips of his fingers. You try to form words, wanting him to move faster but he seems to get the message, removing his fingers and ducking his head down.

He licks a long strip between your lips, your chest rising and falling faster. When he reachs your clit you gasp, the gasp evolving to a groan as he draws light circles on you with his tongue. You hips jerk up as he inserts a finger into your hole, not stopping until he’s knuckle-deep.

You feel a pressure building up as he starts using his finger in a come hither motion, your moans unstoppable as he inserts one more finger, relentlessly pressing hard on your clit with his tongue. Your hips move up and he holds you in place, groaning into you as the vibrations push you off the edge.

Your orgasm hits you like a truck, Peter smirking proudly as he moves back to sit on his heels. You’re left a panting mess, grinning at him from your position. “That was… thank you.” You finish, dazed as you wonder how he learned how to make you feel that way.

Before you can go any further, you cross your fingers and look at Peter, your eyebrows knit together and a small frown on your face. “What’s wrong?” He asks, his expression matching yours. “Please please please, tell me you have a condom.” Peter’s eyes squint and he looks to the side, as if thinking of something.

He hops off the bed, running to his dresser as he sifts through clothing, letting out a triumphant “Aha!” as he pulls out a handful of condoms. You cock an eyebrow at him, expecting an explanation. He takes one and moves back to the bed, kneeling between your slightly spread legs. 

“I’ve had these since that terrible health lesson Coach Wilson had to give us a few weeks ago, rememeber?” You nod your head in response, leaning up to kiss him one last time before snatching the condom from his hand, wanting to roll it on yourself. He looks at you with wonder, watching in awe as you tear the package and pull out the rubber, smoothly sliding it onto his length. 

“Is this actually happening?” Peter’s voice has lost a lot of its confidence, and has been replaced with insecurity. “Yes Peter,” you pull him down onto you, minding his forearms that have moved to rest on the side of your head. “This is happening. I like you a lot.” You lean your head upwards to kiss him, wanting to reassure him as best as you can.

Peter’s eyes soften and he presses harder against your lips, and you can’t help but ignore his hard length poking between your legs. “Are you absolutely sure Y/N?” You nod giddily up at him and he smiles gratuitously, finally pushing into you. You and Peter both moan at the same time, feeling him bury his head into your neck. 

He slowly pushes in until he’s buried at the hilt, looking to watch your reaction. You part your mouth and exhale deeply, closing your eyes and allowing your head to rest on the pillow. Opening your eyes, you roll your hips to test the feeling, and the payoff is great.

Peter clenches his jaw and groans into the crook of your neck, and you repeat your actions, urging him to begin thrusting. He pulls back to watch your face as he draws out almost fully, pushing back into you with the slightest amount of force. He begins to set a steady pace, making pleasurable noises as your breath hitches in your throat.

You soon raise your hips to match his rhythm, only causing the process to be that much better for the two of you. Your mouth falls shut and you whine behind your closed lips as he quickens his thrusts, gently holding your knees and bringing them up, allowing him to get in even deeper.

Feeling the familiar pressure build up, your high pitched moans and heavy breathing become louder, telling Peter that you’re getting closer. Knowing this, he reaches down and lines light-pressured circles on your clit, watching in satsifaction as you gasp loudly, arching your back and clenching around him.

You sense the coil in you become too tightly wound to bear, giving one last thrust of your hips before feeling your leg muscles go limp, feeling yourself go barreling over the edge. Peter isn’t far behind, only lasting a few seconds longer than you before you feel him release into the condom, the two of you stuck in your position.

Feeling him pull out, you move to the right side of the bed for him to collapse next to you, the two of you breathing heavily. After a minute of silence, you turn to your side, staring at Peter. He’s frozen in his spot, staring up at the bottom of the top bunk bed matress. “Holy shit.” He exclaims, turning on his side so that he’s mirroring your position.

Laughing softly, you pull the blanket up so that it’s draping over both of you, matching the intensity of his gaze. “What’d you think?” Although you trusted Peter, you couldn’t help the insecurity that nagged at you, trying to make you think you’re not good enough. 

The negative thoughts seemed to exit your mind as you watched Peter’s face light up, his eyebrows ever-so-slightly raised and a smile on his lips. “I think that was awesome. Was it- was I okay?” He looks nervous, biting his lip and tucking a loose strand of hair behind his ear.

“Peter you were really good. I don’t imagine that teenage boys are usually that talented at what you did.” Your words seem to reassure him, his usual hyperactive and giddy energy returning and radiating off of him more than ever. After laying in silence for a few minutes, Peter brings up his left arm and holds it on the pillow above you, inviting you in.

You make an awkward shuffle on the bed, warmth spreading through you as Peter uses his arm to envelope you and place a small kiss on your hairline. You hum in approval, resting your head on his chest as he fiddles with your hair. “Is it weird that this feels like a dream? It just doesn’t seem real.” You mumble into his chest, feeling soothed by his steady heartbeat.

“It might be weird, but I feel the same way.” Peter laughs, in the haze of sleepiness. The combination of post-sex small talk, Peter playing with your hair, and his heartbeart is luring you into slumber. Instead of using energy to reply with actual words, you hum in recognition.

Just as you feel yourself nearing the brink, you pause, looking up at Peter from your spot on his chest. “Have you taken the condom off? I don’t think that’ll be very pleasant to wake up to.” Peter’s eyes widen as he processes your words, jerking away from whatever semi-conscious fog he was floating towards.

You snicker as he begrudingly climbs out of the bed, taking the large blanket with him as he saunters over to his door. “Peter! I need the covers, I’m cold!” You complain, watching as he wraps the blanket around his waist. “Hold on a sec!” He calls out, running into the hallway and from what you can hear, into the bathroom.

After about a minute, he half-jogs back into the room, unable to take his eyes off of your figure. You reach down and blindly swat at the floor, picking up Peter’s shirt and slipping it onto your form. Peter makes a pouty face at you as he drops the blanket at the foot of the bed, bending down to grab the sweatpants he had lent to you earlier and slipping them on. 

“What?” you tease, moving your head side to side for dramatic effect. “Enjoying the view?” Shaking his head, Peter laughs and joins you on the bed, moving around so that you assumed the position you were in before. “Actually I was, thanks for asking.” 

You reply wordlessly by kissing him, making yourself comfortable with your head on his chest. Tangling your legs together, you soon feeling yourself become hazy with sleep again. Just as you and Peter are about to drift off, you mutter into his chest, your voice like a lullaby to his ears.

“Goodnight Spiderboy.”

He chuckles, speedily sitting up and grabbing the blanket to drape over the two of you. Pulling you close once again, the two of you fall into a comfortable silence, only to be interrupted by the last words that would be uttered that night.

“I left my underwear on the floor.” you rumble, humming in content at the soft noise of amusement Peter makes. It only took a few minutes for the two of you to finally fall asleep, in absolute bliss as you hold each other.

A/N: I hope you guys enjoyed this! Anyone want a part 3? I’ve got a few ideas…

Tags: (Let me know if you want to be added or removed) @becaamm @briannareneea985

‘the boys (and maki if thats alright!!) reaction to their s/o calling them during the middle of the night saying they couldn't stop thinking about them? hopefully you get what im trying to say’

the boys (and maki if thats alright!!) reaction to their s/o calling them during the middle of the night saying they couldn’t stop thinking about them? hopefully you get what im trying to say

I understand you completely! Enjoy~

Keep reading

Title: Late For the Date
Character: Jake Peralta
A/n: It was a lot harder than I thought to manage school and this because i can no longer procrastinate writing during the day and then just stay up till 2am to finish a story.

Previous Part:

In retrospect, it might have been a bad idea to invite you over to Jake’s place for the date. The whole building was unpredictable and he legitimately had nothing planned.

Jake slumped down in his seat, hands dragging down his face as he tried to formulate an idea in his head.

That or which persona he would take up when he inevitably makes a total and complete fool of himself in front of you therefore causing him to flee the country and herd goats to avoid the shame.

It’s just that he was so attracted to you, that sometimes he didn’t even know what he was saying to you half the time. He hadn’t felt that way about anyone in what felt like forever. Jake wanted to do this date right, and not halfass it like he did with everything else.

“Hey, Cassanova,” Gina said as she gracefully plopped into the seat next to his desk. “Little bird told me you managed to snag a date with (Y/n).”

“Is this little bird Charles?”

Gina laughed while her and Charles exchanged a quick glance at each other. “Maybe, anways tell me all the details of what you have planned.”

Jake huffed. “Funny you mention that, cause I got nothing.”

“That’s surprising coming from you. You’re usually the top guy when it comes to setting up dates.”

“That’s just it though, all my previous dates have been total flops. And I really want this one to work out,” He said, casting her a hopeful glance. “Any ideas?”

“Oh, you want a full on thing? Then no, I cannot be of help to you. But, Amy and her are good friends, so trying asking her,” Gina said, standing up and stretching. “But I mean if things don’t work out, send her my way.”

Jake only nodded, too distracted by his thoughts but when he did his head shot up. “Wait, what’s that supposed to mean?!”

To say it was chaos in the Peralta apartment would be a drastic understatement for the situation at hand. He had been taking better care of the apartment, but now it felt like every little thing was out of place and had to be taken care of asap.

God, is this how Santiago felt all the time?

That poor woman.

Jake pulled up his sleeve to check the time and saw that be still had an hour left before you were gonna arrive.

After his small discussion with Amy, he was fairly certain that the date would be pretty good. He learned that grand or extravagant gestures tend to make you uncomfortable, and if he treated this like a more casual hang out then you would enjoy yourself a lot more.

That was Jake’s main goal for the evening, to make you comfortable around him so you both could enjoy yourselves.

With everything done all he had to do was sit and wait for you to show up.

Jake checked his watch for the fifth time in the span of a three minutes. His knees jolted up and down nervously as he continued to glance at the door of his apartment, barely listening to the silly sitcom he had playing on the television.

You were almost twenty minutes late, something very unusual since Amy and Captain Holt would boast about your punctuality to him, in hopes something might rub off on him.

Another ten minutes passed and Jake tried not to let the hurt settle in, there weren’t any messages from you and if it was something serious he knew you would have called.

Jake let out a deep sigh and went to turn off the television when there were a few frantic knocks at the door.

His whole heart jumped at the sound and he tried to not seem too eager as he went to open the door. Taking a small moment to clear his throat and smoothen out his hair, Jake finally opened it.

“I am so sorry!” You said with a large huff. “So much was happening, I got lost in a bit of my work and then my aunt called me just as I was about to leave and the woman can talk for ages.”

Jake couldn’t keep back the smile, he was just so happy to see you and that he could avoid the potential heartbreak over you standing him up.

“It’s totally cool,” Jake said, trying to seem nonchalant while his heart felt like it was ready to hop out of his chest and take off screaming. “I mean I don’t have any aunts but I can imagine they would be delightful ladies who would talk to me a ton too.”

Jake brought you inside his apartment and gave you a small tour of where everything was. “Bathroom’s on the second door to the left if ya need it and bedroom is the last door of the hall if you need a quiet place to have a mental breakdown like I do twice a day.”

Jake’s ears perked up whenever you laughed and he noticed you open up your bag to pull something out.

“First of all, I wanted to say thank you for being so sweet about me being unbearably late for our date,” You then took out a paper bag and held it out to him, Jake couldn’t help but smile at the brightly colored chalk that stained your hands. “Secondly, I got this for you because I felt really bad about it.”

Jake feigned a suspicious look as he opened the bag and looked inside. “It’s an everything bagel!” He said with a happy laugh as he unwrapped it. “Look! It even has beef jerky! Where did you get this at?”

You gave him a wink and tapped the side of your nose. “I know a guy, makes anything I ask him to really. And I remember you talking about wanting one so I thought it would make up for me.”

Jake’s whole system was being overflooded with pleasant affection for you that he couldn’t help but lean over and give you a big hug.

Though when he realized what he did he almost dropped the bagel. “I’m sorry, that was really awkward and I dunno how comfortable you are with that kind of stuff.”

You smiled at him and shook your head. “No it’s fine, I thought it was pretty cute.”

Jake set the food aside and helped you out of your coat. “Now the date can officially begin!”

You stiffled a laugh as you reached out to move Jake’s head back to it’s former position. “Jake Peralta, if you’re going to be my muse then you have to sit still.”

After watching a couple comedies and spending a good few of hours just talking and exchanging funny stories while the two of enjoyed each other’s company. Then you finally managed to convince Jake to let you draw him.

Trouble was, he kept making silly faces or intentionally moving poses to try and get a reaction out of you. “I’m your muse? I’m not an overly kinky man, but I must say, I do like the sound of that.”

You shot him a look and pushed on his shoulder so he’s stumble out of his weird position on the couch. “Hush up, you’re distracting me from my art.”

Jake placed his chin in his hand and watched your hands float around the sketchbook and how your eyes would quickly switch between his face and the page. “You’re incredibly attractive like this, did you know that?”

You smiled, still keeping your gaze on the paper. “Why Mr. Peralta, you are quite foward.”

Jake chuckled, tilting his head ever slightly. “It’s true, Gina was telling me about the whole attractive artist thing and I gotta say that I’m into it.”

“Guess that’s lucky for me then.” You said, smudging one part of his shirt while you debated what to do next, missing Jake’s content sigh while he watched you.

“Just a bit more,” You said, taking one last glance up at him and then tossing your pencil aside. “Done!”

Jake eagerly waited for you to flip the sketchbook over but when you didn’t he raised an eyebrow. “Well? Aren’t you gonna show me?”

“Should I?” You asked, placing it close to your chest so it was totally concealed. “I don’t think you’ve earned it.”

“Not fair! I am the best muse an artist could have!” He argued, trying to steal the book away from you.

“Lemme see!”

“Nah, I don’t feel like it.”


Jake started tickling your sides. “Show me! Let me gaze upon my beautiful face!” His laughter mixing with yours whenever you tried to swat him away.

“Fine! Fine!” You wheezed, pushing him off of you enough to plop the page onto his lap.

“Aw man,” Jake said as he held the picture close to him. “I look absolutely dreadful, is this what I look like all the time because I should really work on that.”

You nudged him. “Shut up, you’re not that bad.”

Jake wiggled his eyebrows. “(Y/n), are you trying to tell me that I’m pretty.”

“Would you mind if I was?”

Jake blushed, and cleared his throat. “N-Not at all.”

You leaned against him. “Well you’re pretty handsome, Peralta.”

Jake looked down at you and smiled. “You’re not too bad yourself.”

“Thank you, I try my best,” You said with a smile, leaning over to look at the clock on the microwave. “Oh wow, I think I should be heading home.” You announced, rolling off the coach and springing to your feet.

He stood up, handing you your sketchbook and helping you retrieve your things. “You’re leaving me so soon?” He asked once the two of you were at the door. “I didn’t get to turn my charm on.”

You smiled over your shoulder while putting your coat on. “I think you were charming enough, besides if I hang around you too much I’ll lose the allure.”

Jake leaned against the doorframe while you finished getting situated. “Well, you’re welcome at my place any time. I’d be happy to have you over again.”

“I might take you up on that offer, Detective Peralta,” You said, smiling whenever he chuckled. “Anyways, thank you for a very fun evening.”

“It was fun for me too. Definitely ranks pretty high on my best date list.” Jake said, your gazes meeting briefly as he decided weither or not to kiss your goodnight.

“I’ll see you later then.” You said before he could make up his mind.

“Goodnight, let me know when you get home safe.” Jake told you, awkwardly shaking your hand.

You smiled and nodded before turning around for breif second, then quickly facing him again, lightly tugging on the front of his shirt to give him a small kiss on his cheek.

“Will do.” You said, letting him go and walking down the hallway.

Jake leaned over the doorframe to make sure you were gone before fist bumping the air and closing the door.

Definitely the top of his best date list.

Shared Spaces, part 3


Part 2


Tagging: @multifandom-slytherin , @evyiione


Dean sat at the library table, staring hard at you, drumming his fingers on the table.

“So,” Lucifer said after way too long in strained silence. “You wanna play a game? Scrabble or Monopoly or–”

“Shut it, Lucifer,” Dean said. “I’m tired of your mouth.”

“Well, that seems a little rude.”

“Lucifer,” you warned. “You just have to make it another sixteen hours. Don’t make this harder than it needs to be.”

Sam stepped in, book in hand. He glanced at you and you could see the discomfort on his face. He cleared his throat, glancing at Dean. “You playing nice?”

“He refuses to play at all,” Lucifer said. “I’ve offered to play a number of games with him but he just sits there in sullen silence, like a moody teen.”

“Lucifer, please. Let’s just… go watch TV or something.”

Lucifer sighed but stood, heading for the living room. Sam and Dean watched as your body disappeared.

“I hate this,” Dean said.

“I know,” Sam said. “But what can we do?”

“We could try another exorcism…”

“No, Dean. Y/N made her decision. We’re almost there. Just,” Sam glanced at his watch. “Sixteen more hours. Then Y/N will be back to normal and Lucifer will be far away from us.”

Dean shook his head, frown still on his face. He stood, heading for the garage. “I’m gonna go get some pie.”


That night, Lucifer laid in your bed, eyes closed. He didn’t need sleep, necessarily, but it gave you comfort to have a schedule to stick to, to stretch out at the end of a long day.



“What’s going to happen tomorrow?”

“Gabriel will bring down my restored vessel. A few words said in the right order, a dash of pixie dust, and we’ll be back to normal.”

You were quiet for a moment. “Will it hurt?”

“No, no. No more than when you let me in.”

You nodded, quiet for a few more moments. “And what… what’s going to happen to us once you’re back in your own vessel?”

“What do you mean?”

“Will we still be… friends?” Is that what you were? Friends? This was a level no one had ever gone to before. You weren’t sure of the terminology.

Now it was Lucifer’s turn to be quiet. “Do you want to be… friends?” He said the word as if it was in a foreign language, unsure of the correct pronunciation.

“Of course.”

“What about your brothers?”

“What about them?” You paused. “What about your brothers?”

“Are you kidding? My brothers love you.”

You couldn’t help but feel flattered. “Well, my brothers will just have to get over themselves. I’m an adult; I can be friends with whomever I want.”

Lucifer smiled. “Good. Then come tomorrow morning, we’ll be friends in two separate bodies.”


Lucifer’s body was stretched out on the library table. You, Gabriel, Sam, and Dean stood around it.

“You ready?” Gabriel asked.

Lucifer nodded. Gabriel began to chant; Lucifer’s body began to glow.

A blinding light filled the library, causing you and your brothers to shield your eyes. You felt a strange sensation in your stomach like the wind had gotten knocked out of you. When you opened your eyes, you saw Lucifer sitting up on the table, stretching his limbs.

“I’m gonna assume that worked,” Dean said, also noting the archangel on the table.

“Unless the spell accidentally took the wrong soul from Y/N’s body…”

“Sam, can we have one day where you don’t think about the worst thing that could possibly happen in any given situation?” you asked.

“Thank God she’s back,” Dean said. “You’re grounded, Y/N.”

“What? Why?”

“How dare you go behind our backs and allow Lucifer to take over your body?”

“She’s an adult, Dean,” Lucifer said. “And you act as though I wasn’t respectful of her.”

“You stay out of this.”

“Leave him alone, Dean.”

“You two, scram. This is an angel-free zone for the next few days.”

Gabriel held his hands up before grabbing Lucifer’s arm. “Come along, Brother Dear.” He turned to you. “Now, you may feel a little weak for the next few hours, might feel like a newborn deer not quite in control of its limbs. Just try and take it easy.”



You opened your eyes, peering into the darkness. “Lucifer?” You clicked on the light next to your bed.

The angel stepped from the darkened corner of your room. “I just… wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“Fine. Gabriel was right, I did feel a little uncoordinated earlier. But luckily Sam let me camp out on the couch; he brought me snacks.”

Lucifer chuckled. “Those little cheese crackers you like so much?”

“Yeah. And some dried fruit. Y’know, ‘healthy eating’ and all.”

“Of course.” Lucifer shifted. “Well, I suppose I should let you get some sleep. I’ll, uh… I’ll see you later?”

You smiled up at him. “Goodnight, Lucifer.”

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

matildaswan  asked:

Headcanon: Bernie's thumbs


- Bernie cuts her thumb when she’s slicing toast, has to go get stitches at hospital. She’s eight, but she doesn’t cry (not really one for emotional displays), doesn’t scream or run away. Instead she’s fascinated by what the nurse does, by every bit, by watching the doctors work; knows there and then that’s what she wants to do when she grows up. 

- They won’t kiss at work, won’t have sex in the supply closet, no matter how much they want to. They won’t even hold hands, at the start. But sometimes she’ll let her fingers brush against Serena’s in the corridor or when they’re scrubbing in, or let her thumb press against her wrist (the palm of her hand) when she says goodnight to her, says see you later? And their restraint at work makes her revel in their freedom, their affection, their tactility, at home. Bernie can’t believe it’s real, any time Serena touches her like that, any time she asks Bernie to touch her too - her thumb making marks in the skin above her trembling hips, or caressing the line of her cheekbone, or tracing nonsense in the small of her back. And sometimes they just tangle themselves up on the couch at Bernie’s, close together and exhausted, best each other in thumb wars while they talk about their days. Bernie usually wins. 

- Bernie’s very talented with her fingers ;) 

anonymous asked:

drabble for "you make me cry myself asleep," preferably for yoongi or wonwoo but anyone you want is fine? thank you so much, i hope you have a great day <3

(okay anon, this took me so goddamn long because i wrote about 4K words and accidentally deleted it. I cried in rage and went to bed and didn’t come back until i could think about this without wanting to tear each individual eyelash out. Here you go!)
(oh wait, also, i changed it slightly lol, but not a lot! just enough to fit with my idea)

TRIGGER WARNING: assault (sexual assault? I think this can be classified as such)

You sigh heavily, reaching up to subtly wipe some beads of sweat that were hanging from your forehead. Subtly, because you didn’t want any customers to see and think you were gross. Sweaty, because you’d been running around after people, fetching more sauce or getting a new meal because “this burger has no cheese and I specifically asked for cheese.” 
Your feet were completely swollen at this point, your trainers digging uncomfortably, and you needed nothing more than to just sit down to alleviate the pressure from your feet.

However, whenever you sat down, your manager would somehow sense it and come running round the corner, barking at you to get to work. 

So, there you stood for the sixth consecutive hour, wiping down a surface that didn’t need wiping as you looked for something to do. It was getting very late now, nearing the midnight closing time, and your heart soared at the thought of collapsing into bed and sleeping until midday. You loved Fridays.

A man with bleach blonde hair walked in with his girlfriend and you were reminded of the time your boyfriend’s locks had been the same colour. Honestly, Yoongi in any hair colour is a god-send, but for some reason, blonde Yoongi tugged even more on your heartstrings.

Glancing at the clock, you knew that he would still be working diligently at the next track. Work as a freelance producer was always hard to come by, and money was incredibly scarce. You were working yourself to the bone trying to provide for yourself and your boyfriend whilst also juggling full time education at the local college and the stress was evident in the slouch of your shoulders and the bags under your eyes.

It wasn’t that you felt resentful - not at all. You would do anything for Yoongi and if it meant taking a few extra shifts at the local diner, you would do it. However, when your boyfriend didn’t really come home anymore and barely looked you in the eyes, let alone spoke to you, it made the burden you were carrying feel so much heavier.

You felt completely alone, even if he was lying in the bed next to you, and nothing was worse than crying yourself to sleep and not having the one you love comfort you.


“Goodnight, Y/N, see you later,” your coworker called, giving you a small wave as she went on her way home. You returned the wave and gave her a smile, watching her go. A twinge of concern filled you as you watched her walk home alone, praying that she’d get there safely, before you turned to make your own way.

You considered calling Yoongi as you had always hated walking home alone at midnight, but you were afraid of interrupting a flow or annoying him. He always used to be waiting outside for you to get off his shift and you were too afraid of his reaction if you called him the first time he wasn’t there, so you just didn’t. 

Tucking your chin into your coat and shoving your balled up fists into your pockets, you started the trek home and hoped that you would get there safely too. Maybe you would pick up some food and drop it off at Yoongi’s studio before going home, knowing that he wouldn’t make the effort to get something to eat for himself. 

You were trying to quickly decide between getting him his favourite lamb skewers or a cheaper dish from a chinese takeaway, when you heard the footsteps behind you. Normally, you wouldn’t have paid them any attention but it was pitch black and the road in your crappy neighbourhood was poorly lit. Your nerves were already thinly strung and this was honestly the icing on the cake.

Quickening your footsteps when the place you usually bought his lamb skewers came into sight with its neon signs in the window and brightly lit up name, you were dismayed when the footsteps of the person behind you sped up too. By now, adrenaline had started to trickle into your bloodstream and  your breathing was speeding up. Panic had widened your eyes and you nearly broke out into a run when the footsteps got even closer. 
Finally, you smashed through the door of the restaurant and startled the young man at the cashier with your sudden entrance. Bowing your head and mustering an apologetic smile, you whirled around and scanned the streets behind you.

There was no sign of anybody who might have been following you.

Maybe you had imagined it. Maybe you were just too tired and you had thought up the footsteps behind you. Even worse, it was possible that the footsteps matched yours because they were yours; just echoed around you. Sighing at yourself, you turned to place your order and asked for it to-go.

From where you were, it would take maybe ten to fifteen minutes to get to Yoongi’s studio where you hoped he still was. The skewers wouldn’t stay warm enough to get to Yoongi’s and then home, so it was better for him to still be at the studio despite the late hour.

Twenty minutes later, plastic bag carrying the precious skewers in hand, you exited the shop and started making your way to Yoongi’s studio. Your face was tucked into the opening of your jacket again to try and conserve some heat, but it was difficult as it still somehow managed to force itself in through the fibres. 

It was the beginning of winter, and the cold was trickling in slowly, but it was blistering compared to the sweaty and humid summer you had only just recovered from. Your fingers were numb holding onto the plastic bag and your footsteps sped up considerably in your rush to get to Yoongi’s studio.

In your desperation to escape the cold, you had forgotten the phantom footsteps until they echoed around the deserted street and you barely had time to gasp before hands grabbed your left arm and shoved you sideways into an alleyway, out of sight from anybody who may be walking down the street.

“Hello, beautiful,” your assailant murmured in a greasy voice that made goosebumps erupt over your body. You shivered in disgust and dropped the lamb skewer bag on the floor, hitting against his stomach and chest with a burning desperation. “Where are you off to at this time?”
“Get the fuck off, you creep!” you spat angrily, thrashing in his iron grip. His fingertips were digging into your flesh painfully and you knew that you would wake up with bruises the next day.

If you woke up at all, that is.

“Watch your mouth, you slut. Who do you think you are?” He demanded, his breath pungent and blowing across your face. You scoffed, struggling again against him.
“Fuck off! Get the hell off me!”

Before you knew it, he had shoved you a few feet away from him, making your body stumble and fall to the floor, scraping your hand against the wall as you went. 
You scrabbled with your coat pocket, sliding your phone out and unlocking it as fluidly as you could with numb fingers and shaky hands. Slamming your thumb down on Yoongi’s contact name, you were quickly wrenched upright again and your shoulder blades were slammed against the brick wall again.

“Maybe I should teach you some manners, eh?” He spat, and you flinched feeling flecks of saliva meeting your face. “Girl like you, looking so beautiful tonight…”
“What the fuck!” You shouted, feeling his hand wander south and start to fiddle with his beltbuckle. “Get the fuck off! Help me! Help! Somebody!”

He snarled angrily, bringing his mouth to yours harshly and prying your mouth open with the hand that had undone his belt. His tongue invaded your mouth and you struggled violently against him, finally gathering enough common sense to raise your knee as hard as you could between his legs and he folded in half, gasping weakly and clutching his groin. 
Baling your right hand into a fist like Yoongi taught you to do all those years ago, you whammed your hand straight into his nose with a satisfying crack and fled from the alleyway as fast as you could, bending down slightly to grab the bag that was abandoned in the mouth of the alleyway.


Tears were streaming down your face, red hot and burning your skin, and your eyes were puffy. The streets were all deserted and you had finally gotten somewhere slightly better lit than the road where the incident had happened. Yoongi’s studio was quite close at this point, and you had left your phone behind in the alleyway in your rush to escape.

You were twitchy, adrenaline still coursing through your system from the attack, and you were focusing on every single noise that erupted near you.

The cold had numbed most of your face at this point and you could barely show your shock when you accidentally walked into a man who was rushing around the corner.

Stumbling back slightly, the mans arms shot out to right you, and you were quick to wrench yourself from his grasp. However, his voice sounded out before you could skirt around him and leave without saying a word.

“Y/N?” Your eyes shot up and met his worried ones, usually small but blown wide in terror. “Baby?”
Sobs erupted from your mouth and he gathered you into his arms, burying his face into your hair and soothing you gently, rubbing his hands up and down your back. You didn’t move at all, just standing there in his arms as he whispered his hushed apologies.
“Yoongi,” you sniffed, pulling away slightly. His arms moved to wrap around your waist and keep you anchored to him, allowing you room to move so he could still look at you. One of his hands shot up to wipe your tears from your face and rub a thumb soothingly against your cheekbone, then your jaw.

“What is it?” He asked, voice still hushed as if he was scared to startle you. 
“I got you some lamb skewers.” You half-heartedly raised the bag up to attract his attention and just like that, he started to cry.

Clutching you to his chest and resting his forehead against your neck, he cried quickly into you. You said nothing and did nothing to comfort him, still feeling far too jaded to do much of anything. 

“I was so scared, Y/N. I picked up your call and he was saying those things and you were shouting and I just, I didn’t know where you were and I’ve been looking for you and I didn’t know if you were okay. I thought I was going to puke and-”
“Let’s break up.”

He was stunned, leaning back to stare at you. The tears had long since dried on your face but your eyes were dull and cold, scaring him more than your words.

“We should break up, Yoongi.”
“But… But why?” His voice was shaky now, and he wondered fearfully what kind of thinking you had been doing to get from point A to B.
“Because you weren’t there.”

Guilt suddenly came crashing down onto his shoulders, making them physically droop, and he let go of you so he could breathe properly.

“Y/N, you- you know I would have been there if I’d known, if I knew something was going to happen-”
“Nobody knows if something like that is going to happen,” you said, voice so icy that he physically flinched. “It’s better for both of us if we break up.”
“No it isn’t. It isn’t better at all. Baby, I don’t want to live without you!” He protested hotly, hands raking through his hair and staring at you in shock. Fear, guilt, worry, and horror were flicking through his eyes, but you were tired.

You were so tired.

“Eat these while they’re still warm, if they are. I’m going home,” you said, lifelessly pressing the bag into his hand. “Delete my number.” 
“Y/N, wait, seriously, I don’t understand- ” He reached out and grabbed your wrist as you moved around him, but red hot fury sparked into flames inside you, and your temper boiled over.

“I don’t want to be with you anymore, Yoongi!” You shouted. “I’m so fucking tired of this! Of working my ass off every waking hour just to put myself through school and so I can actually fucking eat!”
He was silent, staring at you in shock with his mouth hanging open slightly.
“I’m sick to fucking death of coming home and you’re not there! You’re never there! All I want is my boyfriend who I love to be there when I get home and ask about my day and how I’m feeling, but I barely even get a text to say he won’t be home that night!”

Your chest was heaving, eyes wide and hair wild, but you weren’t stopping yet. Your words carved holes into his chest and more tears pricked at his water line.

“I could have been killed, Yoongi! I could have died, alone in that alleyway, on my way to bring you food because you never fucking bother to come home anymore.” you voice was lower now, more controlled, but his hands were shaking. “So, I’m done. I’m done with putting myself in shitty situations. I’m done with having a boyfriend who makes me cry myself to sleep at night. I’m fucking done.”

With that, you pulled your arm out of his grip and bowed politely in front of him.

“I sincerely wish you the best of luck with your life, Min Yoongi. I know for certain that you’ll go far one day.” 

You turned, and he couldn’t even say anything as you walked out of his life.


“Thanks for walking me home.” Ty said.
“No problem puppy.” Evie smirked.
“Hey!” he said “I thought you’d be the one not to call me that.”
“We’ll see I guess.” she said “I don’t know you that well yet.”
“True, I’m a nice guy though. Promise.”
“That’s what they all say.” she chuckled “Anyways, gotta catch some Zs now. See you later dude.”
“Yeah goodnight.” Ty smiled.
She watched as he walked away into his building and then looked up at the starry night sky. A pleasant feeling of content rushed over her and she smiled to herself. She liked the night, the quiet. Working nights suited her well, even though she didn’t get to see Maisie as much as she wanted.