one face to tear all of them up

I Won’t Leave You

Originally posted by shwaybum

Jay Park Scenario : 1588

A/N : This has been sitting in my drafts for a good minute because of my inability to title things. Anyway this a very angsty other than that enjoy I guess.

Warning: Bruising, Choking, Domestic Violence, Cursing 

Waking up with up with a headache you pull to cover further over your head finding comfort in the darkness that now surrounds you. Trying to make sense of the events that had transpired within the last 15 hours. You groan bringing your hands up to your face rubbing away the dried tears. Sitting up to push your hair back, while reaching for your phone. Checking to time you see that you have 10 missed calls and 15 messages, all of them from your job asking if you were coming in today. Being as it’s not 2pm and you were supposed to be there a 8am the answer is clearly no. You’ll just deal with that tomorrow, one day won’t kill them, you don’t ever call in and have never been late.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

Can we just talk about poor baby D getting her first immunisations :( H and the missus would be just so so sad

My heart. :’(( 

I’ve always had it in my head that Harry would have to be the one to hold her/comfort her while it happened because the missus would be so upset and emotional about it and it would be really hard for her. Harry’s torn up about it too, but I think he tries to put on a brave face for both of them. And maybe the missus is trying really hard to be brave too and she’s talking herself up, willing herself not to cry, but the second Harry lays D back on the table and the nurse brings the tray in with all of the syringes lined up, she just bursts into tears and only cries harder when Darcy starts to wail. She knows she needs them, but seeing her sweet little brand new baby getting jabbed with needles just makes her ache to the core. She’s never done this before and it just gets her more than she thought it would. Maybe D crying even starts to make her leak a bit. So Harry’s then trying to comfort both of his girls. D settles down and is content as can be after a little swaying and bouncing and some kisses. She’s pretty much unfazed by it all. 

“Snuggs, she’s okay,” he promises, gently. “It’s okay, baby.” He squeezes her knee reassuringly, his heart breaking at watching her be so upset. “Look, she’s happy as anything.” He shifts her up in his arms. “Aren’t you, birdie? Say, ‘I’m alright, Mumma. And I’ve got some very nice plasters as well.’” Darcy looks up at him and gives him a smile, cooing brightly. “Yeah!” Harry coos. “You’re okay.”

“She’s just so little,” the missus sniffles. 

“I know,” Harry hums, leaning down to kiss her forehead and carefully brush the tears off her face. “I know. S’okay.” He gently shifts D into her arms and he missus immediately cuddles her close. “Give Mumma some cuddles and tell her you’re okay.”

And they just spend the rest of cuddling and nursing and taking a family bath together later that night, because she just wants her as close as possible. xx.      

But what if the grass is greener on the other side

Because it’s more rainy there

Where the sun constantly blooms out

And where the ones who never fail to give,

where everyone’s smiles are so broad that they just light up when you go into the room

I wish I was part of that side

Where those with the brightest smiles

Their pillows aren’t submerged in the tears of denial and heart ache

Where those who are seemingly fearless don’t fill their pillows with dread because god knows what their facing at home and all the loneliness trapped inside of them

And even though their never seen alone you don’t know how far they’ve came

Maybe the grass looks greener because they’ve painted their hue

Just remember

that from the other side you’re grass looks greener too

anonymous asked:

Barb has gotten unsettlingly used to seeing dead bodies, to hearing the 'pop! pop!' and slurp and crunch of them eating, but today she looks and sees that dinner is actually someone she knew, and it sends all her bottled up fear and anger into overdrive and she gets in a yelling match with Pen. Wide-eyed kids sheepishly scuttle out of the cart (with handfuls of gore), never seen mom and dad fight before. Ends w/ Pen roaring her into submission, then gently cupping her face and wiping her tears.

|-O_O-| I LOVE THIS. Mom and Dad are fighting! And that poor soul, probably another teacher, probably one of Barb’s only friends since she moved to Derry, gone. 

Also, Idk why but I thought of this as far as making up: 

Originally posted by sabina-universe-things

Fran and Jock

by reddit user Pippinacious/ tumblr user muricanmagpie

I was the last in a long line of grandkids on both sides of the family. No one has ever said as much, but I’m pretty sure I was an “oops” baby; the result of one too many glasses of wine and a couple over forty who thought unplanned pregnancies were for teens.


Keep reading

anyway my final opinion on the ready for it music video (written w/ a lot of input from @shesdeads):

hoodie taylor is training caged taylor.  she isn’t holding her captive out of malice, but is instead preparing her to survive in the outside world, as someone who doesn’t fit in (because she herself doesn’t fit in either, considering she’s the only one of the cyborgs outside of the glass cage who has a face).  

when hoodie taylor approaches, the other taylor takes a stance as though she’s waiting to begin training.

and at first they seem to be sort of going through the motions, like a routine.  hoodie taylor watches as the caged taylor goes through all of these transformations, and she seems sort of bored and unimpressed, like she’s seen it before.

then, eventually, caged taylor learns to control the blue light, and hoodie taylor’s personality seems to shift.  she pushes back her hood to watch more closely, and even smiles.

she looks at her with pride….and this is when she first touches the glass. it knocks caged taylor down….but it’s because hoodie taylor recognizes she can do more.  suddenly, when she asks “are you ready for it?” it becomes obvious she’s asking the caged taylor if she’s ready to harness her full potential.  

when caged taylor develops full control over the lightning, hoodie taylor stands back and watches, letting her do it.  “letting the games begin” because they both recognize that caged taylor won’t have to be trapped much longer now that she’s strong.

they approach the glass not as enemies but as equals, which is why they place their hands in the same spot, to create a connection that allows the cage to break open.  the two have to, at least for a moment, become one, in order for caged taylor to escape.

and then the glass shatters.  but…caged taylor doesn’t look angry when she does it.  @shesdeads pointed out that instead she looks….upset, or devastated, even, as though in that moment of the glass shattering, she realized that by releasing her, hoodie taylor wouldn’t survive.

and hoodie taylor, for her part, seems to be completely at peace, as though she knew this was going to happen.

now that she’s strong enough, caged taylor is allowed to go free, and hoodie taylor, stripped of the the human skin that made her different and perhaps intimidating to the other cyborgs, holds them off.  she too is shown to have the ability to control lightning, meaning that she may have once been in the same place that caged taylor was.

as the other taylor sacrifices herself, caged taylor makes her escape, and a singular tear trails down her face, because the other taylor had to die for her to be free.

in my opinion, this means that the darker taylor, the one in the hoodie, represents all of the old taylors, and the media’s perception of them.  she’s the one that recognizes the world is cruel, and trains the caged taylor because she wants her to be able to survive.  and by sacrificing that version of herself to protect her, she gives the now freed taylor the opportunity to start fresh, and maybe not end up the same way she did.

but even with the hoodie taylor gone, caged taylor’s eyes still flicker, because a trace of that taylor will always be inside of her.

tag yourself — tumblr pop
  • Halsey: reckless nights, driving around the illuminated city of L.A. / sneaking into old, abandoned motels with your friends that you’re probably never going to talk to again after high school, but you still say the term BFF all night / cigarette filters in tiny liquor bottles, stained with lipstick / chopping off your hair in a bathroom that isn't yours and not cleaning up afterwards / young love and genuinely believing it’s the end of the world when it ends after a week, finally believing the people who warned you / burning an american flag and throwing your more-than-half-full bottle of jack daniels into the flames
  • Melanie Martinez: alphabet blocks spelling ‘go fuck yourself’ / your stuffed animals showing up in places you don’t remember placing them / pastel nail polish that messily gets all over your fingers and hands / old photos of babydolls with a lazy eye and bashed-in faces / finally realizing the grim, origin-meanings of the nursery rhymes your parents read you as a kid / watching tom and jerry on drugs / knee-high socks with lacy tops and rip all along the fabric / getting the big-kid swing all to yourself because no one wanted to go to the park with you / tearing the heads off of your animal crackers and gummy bears
  • The Neighbourhood: standing at the beach at 5 pm, shallow waves crashing onto your feet / burning money you know you need and using it to roll blunts because you want that rich-illusion / driving through california in a white convertible, with palm trees all around you and a girl you just met sitting next to you, while holding her shawl over her head before letting it fly off into the wind / hawaiian shirts and faded, ripped jeans / leaving a small party early and coming home to your expensive suburban condo, falling asleep alone / the ghost of nicotine on your tongue after brushing your teeth
  • Twenty One Pilots: colder weather and leaves fallen off every tree / painting vent-quotes on your walls with black and red paint when you can’t sleep / sitting in the school cafeteria with your childhood best friend, jamming on a ukelele / dark thoughts at night that you turn into poetry / secret handshakes that only you and your soulmate know / scribbling out your monsters with a black pen on a three-hole-punch notebook
  • Lorde: demolishing stereotypes, the popular girls kissing the nerd girls, jocks showing up at theatre class / games of spin the bottle and 7 minutes in heaven / throwing on your drugstore lipstick and fishnets and catching a bus to a sketchy, glow-blog-material club that doesn't require ID / sinking under chlourine-plagued water with your best friend and yelling something, floating up and trying to guess what the other said / going to a house party on a saturday while sticking to white wine and your friend that dragged you there, but ending up actually having a really good time / not giving a shit about sports but going to a highschool football game to get out of the house
  • Lana Del Rey: marilyn-liner and fake lashes / oldies movies playing in the background / emotionlessly breaking expensive jewelry that your ex bought you / loitering at liquor stores until you're asked to leave / getting into a stranger's car solely because they're cute / getting drunk off moonshine and dancing on the pole in the center of the T even though you have no experience
  • Marina And The Diamonds: purposely popping your bubblegum as hard as you can when someone asks you to stop chewing so loud / poisoning a milkshake at a 50's style diner / the sound of pouring a handful of diamonds against a mahogany floor / pastel pink leather jackets with a number of feminism pins all over it / a beautiful bouquet of flowers from all the lovers you met with, 1-5 for each day of the week.
our little family pt.1 | park jimin

Pairing: Father! Jimin + Reader 

Genre: Fluff/Angst + parent au 

Word Count: 2.8k

Summary: You were just a pre-school teacher, a simple dream that came true as you always adored children. But what you didn’t know, was how one child and her very special father would change you dream forever. 

“Jieun-ah, please.” Jimin sighed, as he tried putting her arms through the sleeves of her baby pink coat, which she shrugged back off again for the nth time making Jimin let out a soft groan of exasperation.

“Jieun-ah…” Jimin pleaded as he felt his patience go thin after a long tiring morning. 

“I don’t want to go to school daddy,” Jieun said softly, pouting as she looked at her dad with round eyes, the corners watering slightly before Jimin felt his resolve weaken at the sight of his little girl before him.

Sighing, he grabbed her hands and put on a large grin, “Jieun-ah, It’ll be fun!” he tried cheering, “Daddy had loved going to school all his life (what a lie) and really wished he could go again.”

“Then why don’t you come with me?” Jieun asked, tugging at the ends of her little pale blue sundress, the color contrasting strongly against her raven blank hair that tumbled around her shoulders in soft curls.

Cradling her face in his hands, her cheeks squishing up together making Jimin chuckle slightly, he said, “Daddy’s too old now, but if anything happens I’ll be there for you, alright? Do you wanna go now? I promise it’ll be great.”

“Pinky promise?” Jieun asked, holding out her pinky to Jimin’s face as he laughed a little, hooking her tiny pinky within his and bringing them together before pressing a small kiss to her hands, “I promise baby.”

“Hi guys!! Welcome! Hello!” you smiled happily as the kids walked one by one into your class, all their faces with expressions that varied, some happy, some mad, some scared and some with tears and snot dripping from their little noses.

Oh, children. 

“There you go Jieun-ah, I’ll pick you up in a couple hours okay?”

Keep reading

Watchful Shadow

Writer - @damndescendants

Requested - @too-good-to-be-tru 

Hi! Can you do a Harry Hook x daughter of Peter Pan?

Disclaimer - I do not own any of Descendants’ characters and/or ideas all credit goes to the creator and producers of Disney Descendants

Pairing - Harry Hook x Reader

Summary – (Y/N), daughter of Peter Pan goes to the Isle with Mal only to run into an old friend

Warning(s) - none

Originally posted by butterflywingednight

Keep reading

Misguided (M)

Originally posted by y-ta

SUMMARY: After a run in with one of Johnny’s fellow frat brothers, you had thought he had just been after one thing. But when, not only Johnny himself, but with the help of your friends, they helped you realize that you had made some very misguided judgments. // “What tastes better than it smells?”

GENRE/WARNINGS: Fraternity/College!AU // It’s honestly mostly fluff with smut thrown in at the end. This is part of a collab with @versigny and a bunch of other writers. You can read the prologue here.

WORDS: 14.5k.

A/N: I died 3x over writing this. That is all.

Keep reading

All His Fault

In the large mansion, isolated from the bustling city, a place was covered in mystery, a place was covered in death. On these grounds, an atmosphere so thick laid like a blanket around the house, suffocating the people in it.

One shouts so loud that the people outside- the butler, chef, and gardener- cringe in hurt. They know what is real. They pack their backs and get ready to get out. They know what is happening. One, sadly, is still shrouded from it.

William shouts as loud as his lungs could give.

Damien? Celine? Come out! You got me! This was an elaborate prank, you got me, now, come out!”

At first, it was a call for them, come on, pleasepleasepleasecomeout. No one’s dead, right? But as time went on, it was becoming a chant. A chant of his heart, for his mind, to keep working, keep moving, keep calling. They’re not dead. They’re playing a prank.

“Come on William.” He whispered to himself, fiddling with his lenses. “Don’t lose it. Don’t lose it. D-Don’t…” He swallowed, a sharp short pain in his dry throat. “They’re not dead. Come on! Damien! Celine-!”

“William.” A voice calls from his back, and he looked at the corner of his eyes.  A cracked mirror. His friend, reflected on the smooth, jagged surface. A look of anger, vengeance, burning. “Stop.”

“You don’t understand, Mark.” He grits out in a faux happy tune, but both knew it was fake as it can get. “Those two- they were— are, my friends. For years!  And you know they love pranks. They’ve got to get out soon!”

The other man steps forward, and it was only this time did William register the familiar cane in his hands. A surge of disbelief ran through him, and blindly, as if his body knew what his mind wanted to do before it instructed him, walked briskly towards the other and snatched the cane, clutching it close to his chest.

“This- this isn’t yours. It’s Damien’s. Not. Not yours.” He stammered, not knowing why. Was it anger? Disbelief? Or was he hurting already? What did it feel to hurt? “You’re not supposed to hold it. It’s his. Mayor’s.”


“You shut your mouth!” He retaliated, hands shaking, and he felt his body drop. ‘Stop.’ He yelled desperately in his mind, a slow hysterical feel creeping in his internal voice. ‘Stand tall! At ease! Parade rest! God fucking-‘

A firm hand landed on his shoulder. A familiar touch, yet not so. It felt cold, as if owner’s anger that he was feeling was ice-hot. William blinked the tears from his eyes, and removed his glasses, drying the tears on them. And-how peculiar was that. He was on his knees. When was he on his knees? Did he do something wrong?

“Did I kill them?” He asked no one, no one in particular, absolutely removing anyone around him from his midst. He was alone in this room, wasn’t he? Or was the man behind him, no, not just a man, Mark, behind him? “No, no, I didn’t, right? Mark’s alive?”

“Yes. But-“

“Oh god. Oh god. Goodness gracious. I thought- and Celine, and Damien, and-and-and, and Y/N, right, I didn’t kill them?” He tried to stand, but his knees were too wobbly, and he had to balance himself upright. “Mark, I didn’t kill them?”

Mark didn’t answer. The anger that was projected on his face earlier waned, morphing into something drastic, pitying, hurting, all at once. “William- I, I’m trying to tell you, please, listen-“

William’s smile grew, a painful one, and his eyes, oh his eyes, filling up with hot tears.

“Mark, I didn’t kill them?!” He asked once more, and he stumbled, losing grip. He stared at the cane first before looking up at the other’s face. “T-Tell me, you’re alive?”

“I-“ Mark brought his hand up to his face, massaging his nose. “It’s hard to explain, but yes, I am alive, but- but not in the way that I used to be. William.” He bent down and gripped the steadily hysterical man. “William, listen to me. I am alive. But I- I am Celine. I am Damien. We’re both here, but- but we’re dead, William. Do you understand?”

The man stared at him, and Dark, who had been just letting his anger reign himself in, bit his lip, seeing the absolute pain in his eyes. Celine and Damien, in his conscious, struggled, gasped. Both tried to control themselves to project the man they wanted to take vengeance as.

Then they heard the ramblings. The ramblings, by god, the ramblings, they figured out, my god, where was their friend going?

“D-Damien in the body? C-Celine in the body? That’s- that’s great! They’re not dead! Mark’s not alive! That’s even greater! No one’s dead! No one’s dead! F-Fuck, no one’s dead!

However when they saw their childhood friend break, absolutely break, Dark knelt, and shed a few tears.

“William, please.” He looked at his friend. “William-“

The other man stood up, fast as lightning, and shouted upwards. “No one’s dead! They’re all alive! Hah! G-Good one, good one!” He smiled, a painstaking, hysterical, twisted, and deranged smile. “That must be pretty harsh! To be there in there! What do you call yourselves?”

In a small, but relenting voice, he whispered, “Dark.” And he winced at the bigger smile that took over his friend’s face. “William, do you understand what I’m trying to say?”

“Yes!” He smiled, and- were those tears? Tears of a man so far from reality. Tears from a man who can’t accept reality and forged his own. Tears that signified the great loss of a man.

Dark stood up, and looked at him, with baited breath. Celine and Damien’s friend’s sanity was long gone. In a broken giggle, William beamed widely.

“No one’s dead! No one is dead!”

And that was the final straw for Damien. In Dark’s mind, he paced gripped his lapels as hard as he can, and grinded out through his teeth his words.

He fucking did this to him! Look at him! Fuck, Celine!” He demanded, and Celine watched his tirade, eyes widening as she saw the anger overtake him. “He took everything away from us! He took me. I could deal with that. He took you, and I couldn’t. But- but William! The man was damaged enough as it is! That fucking son of a bitch-“

“Damien, please-“

“Don’t Damien please me, Celine!” His voice was getting higher. “No matter what we could do, magic arts or not, there is no way with helping William anymore! All he sees is Dark, Mark’s face, accommodating us, and we don’t have any way to show him that we’re here. He doesn’t comprehend it!” He yelled, watching her reactions. “You cannot tell me that I shouldn’t destroy his work, his loved ones, his life! Look at how he destroyed him without an ounce of thought!”

Celine bit her lip and exhaled. “Damien. I-“

A gunshot suddenly brought them out of their reverie. Dark blinked, looking at the scene in front of him. A bullet, on the floor, punctured. William, with a gun on his hand, looking lost, like a child without their parents. His eyes wide, he turned a questioning look at the other, who smiled in response.

“You weren’t responding to me.” He laughed, and something unsettling was in his eyes. “I just wanted to check if you were still there. With me. Alive.” He put the gun in his holster. “Y-You weren’t moving, and I know I didn’t put a bullet in you, so you couldn’t have died- but you weren’t moving anymore, so I figured, why not put a bullet on you?” He chuckled even louder. “That seems to bring people alive!”

Dark chose to be silent, and Celine could only sob in her hands, as Damien stood up tall in Dark’s subconscious, unyielding, and hateful. He watched his childhood friend, his comrade, the man he had grew up with, the man he sought out in times of trouble, break as if he was just a plaything; crumble, as if his sanity was just an insignificant sand in the wind; and disappear into a pit of madness, right before his eyes. 

He commanded Dark’s body to stand, and hug the other man, whispering reassurances that he was alive. William would nod and whisper “No one’s dead” again and again, further angering Dark.

This was all Mark’s fault. This was all Mark’s fault. Mark’s fault. Mark’s fault.

And he will pay.

So. What do you guys think? Hope you like it! Comments will be appreciated ahaaaa

Bts | Reaction | Checkmate✔️

[ i live for these mafia/gangsta aus! thanks so much for requesting this, i love you so much, enjoy :)) ]


➸ You hadn’t caught his eye just yet, him merely seeing you as another waitress threatened with your life to serve him anything he desired. This business meeting was nothing but intense, the atmosphere suffocating as the topic was on murder. Now, for a normal servant they wouldn’t even bat an eye on the conversation - but that’s just it. 

You were new. 

And it probably was just your luck to be working on the day they decided to be…descriptive as to what they planned to do to the rat among them. A little squeamish, you couldn’t help but shake uncontrollably when you poured Jin another glass of wine, biting your lip with so much strength that you were sure it was bleeding.

“Yoongi, for the last time, we are not using acid. I almost lost my fucking arm trying to clean it up the last time we used it.” Namjoon groans, rubbing his temples in aggravation. “What is it with you and melting skin?” 

“He’s a sadist, that’s why.” Jimin snickers. “I say we cut off the fingers, one by one. Then, leave him to bleed out - slowly.” 

You couldn’t help but gulp at the mere thought of someone’s fingers being cut off, or their skin melting off; what was wrong with these people? Do they find it entertaining doing these things-


The abrupt shout coming from Jin shocks you back into reality, as your heart drops at the sight of the overflowed wine glass, now all over the white table cloth and his dress pants. Losing the ability to breathe, you stand there with your mouth agape in terror, eyes wide like a deer in front of headlights. Sputtering out apologies left and right, you set the bottle down to hurriedly clean him up as much as you could with the hem of your dress - it being the only thing available. 

“I-I’m sorry, please, forgive me - I didn’t mean to, I was only just-” 

Before you could finish your plea, your breath is once again caught in your throat as rough fingers grip your jaw, lifting your head back up so he could get a good look at you. The room is now silent, which you concluded to be much worse than their conversation. You didn’t even notice you had tears until he used his other hand to wipe them away, gently. Never had you ever been so confused until this very moment - Jin was never gentle. You know from witnessing what he was really capable of.  

“Calm down, it’s alright. It was only an accident, right?” You take a minute to nod slowly, but once you did, he smiles. That only seems to scare you rather than put you at ease. “No need to be scared. Why don’t we get you cleaned up, hm?” 

Before you had a chance to answer, Jin had already latched onto your forearm, while standing from his seat. It was as if wine had never been spilled as he gave the conference table one last look. “Continue without me, I’ll be back shortly. And get someone to clean up this mess.” 

Taking a look at them as well, you didn’t understand as to why they all had knowing grins as they waved the two of you off. What was going to happened to you? Was he just playing tricks, was this the end for you? Your breathing only came in chops as he escorted you out of the room, the tears cascading down your face as you whimpered. 

“Please, don’t kill me! I have a family, please, I didn’t mean to spill-” You were cut off once again, only this time in an incredibly different way. Blinking rapidly, you moaned in surprised as his lips crashed onto yours, his hands rested on your lower back, pulling you in close. 

What was this you were feeling? 

This wasn’t the Kim Seokjin you’ve come to know for the past week, he never even gave you a passing glance - he didn’t know you existed until today. How come this kiss felt like he’s known you forever? 

After a few minutes, the two of you pulled away desperately in need for air, his hands now finding a new area to caress as he stared into your eyes. 

“I..I don’t understand…” 

“Have you any idea how long I’ve been searching for you? How long I’ve waited, and yet here you were this whole time - serving me wine.” Seeing that you were still confused, Jin chuckles softly. “What’s your name?” 


“Y/n.” He repeated, allowing the name to slip off his tongue, like butter. “Such a pretty name, it suits you.” 

“’re not gonna kill me, or cut my fingers off, or bathe me in acid-”

“Now, how could I do that to my soulmate?” Feeling your heart nearly stop, you practically choke on air at the word. “Sorry you had to hear all of that, from now on, you no longer have to serve me. And you have a family, you say? I’d like to meet them, they shall be protected for as long as I’m breathing, as well as you.”

“Whoa, wait, slow down. I-I’m your…b-but how could you possibly know?! Just five minutes ago, you didn’t know who I was, and now all of the sudden we’re soulmates? I just…I don’t understand.” Yes, everything was crashing onto you all at once, but you didn’t pull away from him. You let him continue to hold you; his presence oddly feeling right.

Jin couldn’t help but to laugh, the feeling of relief that he finally found you was enough to put him a constant good mood. Not even you’re obliviousness could annoy him; whether you believed him or not, he would get you see someday that he was made for you.

“There’s plenty of time to explain all of this - but wouldn’t you rather get cleaned up? This wine is starting to feel a little sticky.” 

The events of earlier almost made you forget the small slip up you made - realizing that it all came down to just overfilling a wine glass. If you hadn’t have been so careless, would you be in this situation? Would everything had been different if you hadn’t have screwed up? 

Was this fate? If he wasn’t going to kill you, why not at least see where all of this was going to lead. What was the worst that could happen? 

Nodding slowly, this time he went for your hand, leading the way to what you assumed to be his bedroom. 

“We are meant to be, my love. I’ll show you.” 


➸ If there was anything else Yoongi could do, he would pick it in a heartbeat. He’d rather watch paint dry than wander around this party, surrounded by a whole bunch of idiots who were drunk off their asses while carrying lethal weapons. If anything, he feared for his life rather than enjoyed the event. To be honest he couldn’t even remember why he was there in the first place. 

“Attention, could I have everyone’s attention. I would like to thank you all for attending this special occasion. The day my only child takes over the family business.”

Ah, that’s right. He was sent to put in a good word for вts to the new mafia boss of BigHit; just to make sure there continued to be no bad blood between them. He didn’t know what the big deal was, just some guy getting a new position in something that was merely child’s play - in his opinion. Why was there a need for such a big fuss over one dude? 

Man, was he in for a kick in the balls when you walked out. You were far from being ‘some guy’ or a ‘dude’. You were a woman. And the ‘big fuss’ was because BigHit had never been run by a woman before. Especially not a woman that looked like pure sex. Yoongi nearly choked on his drink when you strutted out for the whole party to see, cheers erupting all around him, yet he couldn’t hear a thing. It was like all his senses were circled in on you, even senses he didn’t know he had were all focused. 

“My daughter, Y/n, the first female to ever run the empire. Babygirl - make daddy proud.” Yoongi couldn’t help but to fantasize about saying those final words to you someday, biting his lip as his eyes scanned you up and down. Definitely a sight for sore eyes, that’s for sure. He could only pray to the man in the sky, thanking that Jin-hyung made him come to this event.

Clearing his throat, he joined in the claps that congratulated their new boss, all sending their best wishes and positive vibes. Honestly, he couldn’t wait to be alone with her to discuss ‘business’. He watched you intensely as you made your way down the stairs, dress flowing behind you so elegantly it should be considered illegal to look as good as you did. You greeted anyone that was in your path - from hugs, to handshakes, to the friendly kisses on the cheek. 

But, as soon as you got to him - everything stopped. As if your brain had completely shut off, and you were merely a hallow shell. You didn’t even blink, your mouth hanging open like a fool as you stood in front of him with your arms open. 

If he hadn’t cleared his throat, you probably would have been stuck like that for a little while. Shaking your head, you chuckle nervously, reaching over to shake his hand. 

“So sorry, I don’t know what came over me for a second. You must be Yoongi, Seokjin told me that you would be attending tonight. Pleasure to finally put a face to a name.” When his hand had finally connect with yours, you could have sworn a bolt of electricity sprung up your right arm, almost making you jump back in alarm. Almost

“Pleasure is all mine,” Yoongi pulls you in closer by the hand, leaning down to place a light kiss upon your knuckles. “Miss Y/n.” 

The way your name fell from his lips nearly made you weak in the knees. Blinking a couple of times to compose yourself, you gesture with your other hand in the direction where your new, private office was located. 

“Shall we get down to business, then?” 

Tightening his grip on her hand, he nods slowly as a grin forms upon his lips. “Lead the way.” 


➸ You two had made eye contact the minute you hit the stage. It was your first night being the main dancer, feeling so confident in yourself that you decided to wear a little something more than inappropriate - snagging Namjoon’s attention in under a second. Not only had he never seen you before, but you did something to him the same way a drug would do. His heart started to race, his palms sweating, everything around him going silent and his vision tunneling in on you and only you. 

For a moment, you forgot your whole routine, or that there were other men in the room you needed to interest; not just him. But, your mind felt as if he was all the attention you wanted - needed, even. You didn’t know what is was, but when the music started, you had no choice but to get into character and finally break eye contact. Namjoon leaned back into his chair, eyes still trained on your swaying figure as you started to dance, licking his lips slowly at your movements being so smooth and precise. 

“Behave yourself, Namjoon, we’ve only just arrived and you’re already eye-fucking one of the dancers.” Jin playfully punches his shoulder, him not flinching. “Yah, what’s the matter with you?” 

Tugging at the sudden tightness at his collar, Namjoon finds the strength to pull his eyes away from you, them now clouded with lust as he tried to allow his heart to slow down. Jin had seen this look before, many times actually, him having had the same look not too long ago. Nodding to his friend, slowly, Jin only chuckles as Namjoon spilled everything without having to say one word. 

“Ah, I see. You think she’s the one?” 

“I don’t think. I know she is.” He notices that your dance was coming close to an end, him not wasting a moment before standing up and adjusting himself. “Don’t wait up, I’m coming home late.” 

“Be gentle with her, Joonie~” Jimin giggles, chugging down yet another shot with Taehyung. “We don’t call you ‘God of Destruction’ for nothing.” 

It was as if you were expecting him when you descended from the stage, already signaling him to follow you to the private section of the club, a teasing little smirk creeping upon you face as you made sure to swing your hips with exaggeration as you walked. Raising an eyebrow in interest, Namjoon couldn’t help but chuckle darkly as he happily started to follow you. 

“I think she can handle me.”  


➸ Hoseok knew this was coming, eventually. He drank his poison and merely waited for it take effect, it was only a matter of time. He knew his wife was going to rat him out the minute she discovered the secrecy he’s kept from her for so long. 

“I hope that bitch was worth it, and that you rot in hell, Jung Hoseok!” 

He would only roll his eyes, as the police finished handcuffing them all, escorting them outside. There were millions of flashing lights as soon as they stepped foot through the doors; from reporters to people with camera phones, all taking pictures of the notorious mafia gang finally being brought to justice. 

Hoseok couldn’t help but to smile. These poor, naive fools.

People continuously shouted at them, from insults to curses, all saying this was a new beginning - now that the terrorists were finally going to be put behind bars, once and for all. Once the doors to the van were slammed shut, the seven of them looked at each other before all busting into a fit of laughter. The sound of the engine starting was loud enough to drown it out from anyone of the outside, driving away at lightening speed until the flashing lights of the cameras were submerged to nothing but tiny specks in the distance. 

For a straight ten minutes into the drive, they couldn’t keep from laughing - the whole situation seeming unreal and just hilarious to them. It wasn’t until the van had come to a complete stop did they all finally compose themselves enough to catch their breaths. Opening the double doors, they were greeted by a silhouette covered from head to toe in black, wearing a police helmet to hide their face; the laughter then returned once again. 

“Stop looking so fucking intimidating, your Oscar for world’s best actress is in the mail, Y/n.” Taehyung sarcastically remarked, you chuckling in response as your remove the helmet. Climbing into the van, you go over to Hoseok first, leaning downward to kiss him passionately - the guys not missing a beat to let out groans of disgust, mixed in with their laughter. 

“I always knew that tramp would sing like a canary. Not my fault her husband happened to my soulmate - and I sure as hell wasn’t going to share you for much longer, Hobi~” You unchained him from his handcuffs, so he could hold you properly as the two of you shared another kiss. 

“Yah, you two can ravish each other later! Right now, we gotta move, before the police realize this van never showed up to it’s original destination.” Namjoon warned. 

Pecking his lips one more time, you rush over to uncuff the rest of вts, them not wasting time to strip out of their suits. Putting on the casual clothing you had packed for them ahead of time, Yoongi then spread the inside of the van with gasoline as well as their previous clothing. Helping to push the vehicle into a nearby ditch, Hoseok held up a box of matches, his eyes piercing into your own. 

“Y/n. It is your choice if you want to continue on with us, or not. I’m going to be honest, once the feds catch on they will hunt us down like dogs, and it’s not going to be easy. I won’t make you do something you don’t want to-” 

You kiss him hard on the mouth before he could finish his speech, wrapping your arms around his neck to hold him close, signifying that you weren’t going anywhere. After pulling away from the passionate kiss, you happily take the matches from his hand, striking one of them - watching the flame come to life in the dark night. Taking a deep breath, you throw it toward the van, it perfectly landing on the roof of it. Not even seconds later did a blanket of fire start to spread around the vehicle, it being completely engulfed into the flames. The maknaes hoop and holler at the moon, dancing around with each other as the rest of you merely watched it burn. 

Hoseok wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you in close to place a kiss on your forehead. “This isn’t going to be fun, you know.”

You chuckle, resting your head in the crook of his neck. “If you’re trying to scare me into leaving, it’s not gonna work. I’m with you till the end, Hobi, until the day I die.” 

He could only smile, your response making his heart race uncontrollably - something his wife could never do. You were the breath of fresh air he’s been looking for. Sure everything he’s worked for is practically gone thanks to you, but he didn’t mind starting over. It was a small price to pay, for you. 

“I love you, Y/n. Until the day I die.”


➸ Unfortunately, you were on his hit list. Someone had called him in to finish the job, getting rid of the witness who had gotten away with too much information. But, there was no record that you even existed, besides a name and the location where you worked. You kept a low profile, due to your reputation of being a well known snitch, only the last thing you spied on - you were sloppy. They saw you sneaking out of the window when you felt like you’ve gotten all that you needed. They didn’t see your face, but they knew enough to track you down - for him to track you down. 

Jimin entered the bar, dressed in nothing but black as he scanned the area. Checking over the exits, giving an educated guess of how many people were in the place, playing out all the possibly scenarios that could unfold tonight. The worst that could happen is that the police could get involved, allowing you to get away, and fail the mission. But, Jimin was a lot of things; a failure wasn’t one of them. 

The only information he was given was that you were either a server here, or a performer in one of the cages that hung from the ceiling. He knew that no one had seen your face before, but he felt that he could put a name of a face. Jimin wouldn’t be good at what he did if he couldn’t. Scanning the cages, none of the girls that shamelessly flashed their naked bodies seemed to fit the small profile. Huffing, he crosses the cages out; only one thing left to investigate. 

Sitting at one of tables, he pressed the button in front of him to gain service from one of the waitresses that would migrate all over the place. It took no more than five minutes for one of them to finally make their way over to him, notepad in hand, with sweat glistening off their face and nearly exposed torso; he nearly giggles at the faint appearance of glitter. It wasn’t until his eyes had landed on your face did the look of amusement completely melt from his features, quickly replaced with the blank one he had came in with. Trying to catch your breath in the stuffy bar, you didn’t even notice his face yet in the dimly lit area where the table was located. 

Jimin gulps, trying to keep himself calm before his heart nearly busted out of his chest. It couldn’t be you, it just couldn’t. He prayed to god that it wasn’t, that you were someone random who worked here, that his instincts were wrong this one time. When you had finally caught your breath, chuckling softly, you politely bowed in apology - still haven’t lifted your head up to look at him. 

“I am terribly sorry to have kept you waiting, sir. My name is Y/n, I’ll be your server for tonight, what can I get for yo-…” You had then looked up, your professional smile dropping to a look of pure terror, as you took a small step back. Jimin’s blank expression switched to something that seemed as if he were in physical pain, tears forming in his eyes as he couldn’t bear to look into your terrified ones. 

You knew who he was, and what he was there to do. That only seemed to pain Jimin even further as the rapid beating of his heart only confirmed his worst nightmare: he’d have to kill his soulmate. 

“Y/n, I’m begging you…please run.” 


➸ Taehyung had a reputation of being incapable of feeling anything. Emotions he once had in the past completely erased from his genetic code thanks to the rough teachings from his father. He grew up with no warmth of a mother’s touch, no grandmother, nor sister, just merely male presence for as long as he can remember. 

He hated smiling. Anytime his father caught him even so much as grinning, he earned himself a beating. He hated laughing. Anytime he would laugh for having fun, another beating, then no dinner. He hated crying. Anytime Tae would cry after a beating, or from hunger, he would only get beat even more - and possibly the loss of food privileges for a whole week. After a while, Kim Taehyung learned to not feel a thing. It’s the only thing that kept him alive. 

When he arrived at the party, he was greeted with friendly smiles, warm welcomes, you name it - they wanted to make him feel special. After his father’s death recently, he had been promoted to head boss - taking the news with a blank expression and curt nod. Never shed a tear about his father, or for this grand opportunity he’s been trained for since birth. He felt nothing. 

Jin accompanied Taehyung, being his ride to the event. Jin’s job was to be his smile, his laugh, anything that had to do with emotion - Jin was the man to be called. But, if the eldest didn’t know any better, he could’ve sworn he had seen Taehyung grinning at something when they entered; for a split second. 

“I’m gonna go scout for the others, and find our reserved table. Don’t do anything rash, remember your temper.” 

“Aish, Jin-hyung, you’re like the mother I never had.” Taehyung spoke with monotone, his hooded eyes never faltering. “I’ll be a good boy.” 

Jin raises his eyebrow in confusion. “Did…Did you just make a joke?” 

Blinking a couple of times, Taehyung turns away from him while looking anywhere else to distract this tingly feeling at his finger tips. Shrugging slightly, he starts walking away without another word to Jin, leaving him to stand there for moment. Scoffing softly, he just shakes his head. He would forever be a mystery to him. 

Taehyung walked forward with no particular destination, but he couldn’t stop. He was looking for something, someone perhaps, he just didn’t know who. It wasn’t until he had ran into a server with a tray in their hands did he snap out of his zombie-like state. A small gasp made him look down at the mess he had created, the girl in front of him looking as if she had just seen as ghost. Bowing multiple times, you apologize multiple times in one breath, lowering to floor to quickly gather everything you dropped so you could escape his sight before he could catch a good look at your face. The last thing you needed was to turn up dead the next day all because of a clumsy mistake. 

But, it wasn’t your fault, and he knew that. 

Everything around the two of had stopped, everyone staring in equal shock and sympathy as they all concluded that you probably just made the biggest mistake of your life. Taehyung stared down at you once more, eye twitching slightly as tears cascaded down your face as you practically begged for forgiveness for getting his blazer all messy. He didn’t like the sight, not in the slightest - usual he would find joy in someone pleading for mercy, but coming from you - it didn’t leave the right taste in his mouth. 

Without hesitation, Taehyung drops to his knees, helping you pick up the shattered glass piece by piece. You lowered your head even further to keep from making eye contact, afraid to see the look of rage in his eyes. He looked you over for a moment, seeing multiple cuts all over your hands from picking up shards of glass with your bare hands in such a hurry to get away from him. You looked so fragile, so scared, so…cute. It had been a while since he’s seen something like that. Gently as he could, he gripped your chin, lifting your head up to finally make eye contact with him. 

Gasping softly once again, your breathing stops altogether when you see all the emotion held in such soft brown eyes. They were so wide, so curious, nothing like in the stories people would gossip about on the streets. Tears still leaked from your eyes as you sat still, in fear that one wrong move could set him off. Taehyung on the other hand couldn’t understand this rapid beating in his chest, the same way it did when he first saw you when he came in - you were the one Jin almost caught him grinning at. 

“What’s your name?” He finally spoke, voice low so not to frighten you. “Please, tell me your name. I’m not going to hurt you, just please…” 

Gulping, you blink away a few more tears, sniffling before answering. “Y/n. My name is L/n Y/n. I’m 19 years old, I have no family except my little sister at home who needs me, she’s only 6, I bed you, please don’t…”

You start to choke on your own words at the tears once again started to flow, clenching Taehyung’s heart to the point he was extremely confused as to what this feeling was. Never has he experienced anything like this before, it being so long to where he’s forgotten the name for it. Pain? Anger? Sadness? 

Whatever it was, he didn’t want you expressing it any longer. Not wasting another moment, he picks you up into his arms, practically cradling you in way he could only wish someone did for him growing up. He not only surprised those all around him, and you, but himself as well. Blinking a couple of times, he glares.

“Don’t you all have work to do?” 

Just that alone was enough to make everyone practically sprint in different directions. Taehyung only scoffs before heading the direction went in, making you tense up in his arms more than before. 

“W-Where are you taking me?” 

He doesn’t answer, just keeps walking forward. When he had finally come across the rest of his group, they all stared up at him with either confusion or surprised; perhaps a combination of both. Tae takes his seat, not even considering their feelings about how this must look to them, now resting you on his lap. You practically vibrated in his hold, very confused as why you were there or what he wanted from you. What really shocked you the most would be how he wrapped his arms around your middle, hugging you to his chest while nuzzling his head into the crook of your neck. 

Looking over his table for any explanation, you weren’t expecting them to all sudden have some kind of mental understanding as to why he was acting this way. Taehyung leans upward until he felt close enough to your ear, whispering softly into your ear that made your blood run cold. 

“I’m keeping you. You make me feel again.”


➸ Jungkook was to be on his best behavior at this dinner, having been told that it was a meeting between long term rivals to finally end any bad blood that was between them. He understood completely; don’t be disrespectful, no dirty looks, don’t even so much as open his mouth. If they wanted this to be a sure thing, then he needed to be the golden maknae he’s been trained to be. 

Sure, that seemed like an easy to do, it’s nothing new to be told those rules whenever there was a meeting of importance. The only difference in this particular meeting that almost made shit hit the fan - their rival’s daughter was not only smoking hot…but also his soulmate. Now, Jungkook being the youngest, it was a whole lot harder to hide intense emotions that finding your soulmate could do to you. Just the sight of you made his heart race, his only focus being you as all his thoughts were only interested on what your name was, where had you been all his life, and how did you like your eggs in the morning after spending a night with him? The longer he looked at you, the more sinful his mind turned - to the point Jimin had to pinch him in the arm to bring his focus back on the meeting before anyone noticed. 

“What the hell could you possibly be staring at that hard?” He hissed under his breath, before blushing hard and looking elsewhere. “Are you aroused? Right now, are you fucking kidding me, Jungkook?” 

“It’s not my fault!” He bit back, blush covering his face as well. Wincing slightly at the sudden pain in his ankle, he jets his eyes to his left to see that Yoongi was give the two of them a warning glare. Jungkook couldn’t help the increasing tightness in his pants, having to bite his tongue to keep from whimpering at the slight throb. “Oh, fuck, it hurts…” 

He tried with all his might to hold in any noises he wanted so bad to let out, having to rest his head in his hands to take deep breaths to calm his racing heart. It wouldn’t have been overlook if his elbows hadn’t have slammed into the table - the sound echoing around the once tranquil meeting that was now more of an awkward silence. Jungkook could practically feel all eyes on him, and hear the faint sound of Namjoon face palming. Lifting his head up slowly, he sheepishly smiles. 

“S-Sorry…migraine.” He quickly covered, the boss not seeming to look fooled. But, with a small nod, he gestures for someone to come forward. Jungkook nearly choked on his spit when you walked past him, swearing that you had just ran your finger tips over his back. When you made it over to your father, he whispered something in your ear - you soon nodding that you understood. 

Walking over to him yet again, you placed your hands on his shoulders, leaning down to flash him a warm smile that nearly made him faint right then and there. Without speaking, Jungkook stood, crossing his hands in front of his crotch area to hide the evident bulge that was forming. Following your lead, the two of you exit the room to let them continue the meeting in peace. Once he was positive you were no longer within earshot of the room, he didn’t hesitate to pin you to the wall. 

“What did your father say?” He all but groans in your ear, making sure to grind his lower half into yours to let you know all that you’ve done to him without even touching him. “Does he know you’re my soulmate?” 

“N-No. He just said ‘take care of him’. But, he never specified on how.” You breathlessly spoke, holding onto his broad shoulders as you slowly started to lose your train of thought. The minute he walked in, you were intoxicated. Your vision became blurry, your palm sweaty; your mother had told you all the symptoms, you just never knew they would be this intense. “They way you looked at me, I knew you felt it, too.” 

“Why send you to escort me out, then? Not that I’m complaining.”

You moaned softly as his lips found that one sweet spot near your ear, it becoming harder and harder to think straight. 

“He wants me to learn the family business. He wants me to teach you a lesson, I-I guess - punish you f-for interrupting.” 

Jungkook grins slyly as he finally pulls away from the now purple mark blossoming on your neck. Your flustered state was definitely something he could get used to seeing - even if it had to be behind his hyungs’ backs, or your ruthless father. You were so worth it. 

“Well then…punish me, baby.” 

“I’m Not Gay”

Edit- I have changed a little of this bc when I first posted there were some similarities on a paragraph to another story. And even though I didn’t copy it, I still felt awful that it was so similar so I’ve decided to edit mine.

Pairing: Reddie
A/N: This is my first Reddie fic and it was supposed to go in a different direction but we ended up here. I don’t love it but I don’t hate it. ALRIGHT SO! Both boys are in college in this so around 19-20. It’s not quite smut but it is about friends with benefits so.
Summary: Fuck, when did Richie catch feelings for his best friend. This was just supposed to be some casual fucking.
Words: 1,200+

This should’ve been like every other time. Eddie beneath him, a mixture of curses and Richie’s name spilling out in moans. This time though, his kisses seemed sweeter and his hands roamed longer. He was taking in everything. From the look on Eddie’s face to the curls sticking to his forehead.

He was beautiful.

Richie couldn’t get enough. They had been, for lack of better phrasing, friends with benefits for awhile now. It started on a tipsy night last semester, neither boy had really planned for it to continue but here they were. Richie literally balls deep in Eddie. 

As he looked at the small lad beneath him, he felt his heart race. He wanted more. Maybe now wasn’t the time to be having an epiphany but seeing Eddie begging for him and knowing only he could make him feel that way really got Richie hot. 

Maybe it was the pleasure pooling in his stomach talking but he never wanted another name to fall from those lips. 

“Richie faster p-please.” Richie groaned, hearing how much Eddie wanted him was almost enough to push him over the edge but he always did as he was told. He quickened his pace. 

“As you wish, Eds." 

"Don’t…oh my god,” Eddie moans “call me that.” Richie smirked, “I make you feel this good and still can’t call you Eds?” once again quickening his thrusts. Eddie grabbed a fist full of Richie’s shirt. His moans quickly turning to full on screams. Richie loving every sound.

Before long they were both entangled on the bed breathless. Eddie’s head resting on Richie’s chest.

“Gross, your shirt is soaked in sweat. You should’ve just taken it off.”

“But then you wouldn’t have anything to hold onto.” Richie gave a smug smile, 

“Besides, you weren’t feeling foreplay today so I figured we’d just get to the fun part.” He leaned down a placed a small kiss on Eddie’s temple before removing the disgusting shirt and tossing it across the room.

The after cuddles were starting to become Richie’s favorite part of all this. Although the sex was extraordinary. He tightened his arms around Eddie’s petite waist, as his fingers swirled cute designs on the small of Eddie’s back. Eyes closed just enjoying the intensity of Eddie’s skin on his. It was like a small fire beneath his finger tips. He could practically feel the sparks.

Fuck, when did his life turn into such a damn rom com? Here he was pining over his best friend who was painfully oblivious. His inner monologue getting interrupted by small hums. Eddie was nuzzling his face further into Richie’s now bare chest. Content. He would describe them as content. He thought he might die right here. Eddie was just too damn cute. He probably didn’t even realize how much this was killing Richie. Being so close physically yet so far emotionally.

“I love you.”

The words flew out like vomit. No warning and leaving an awful taste in his mouth. FUCK. Did that really just come out of him? Richie could feel his heart beating through his chest. If his rib cage wasn’t there he was sure it would’ve burst through his skin.

Everything seemed to go in slow motion. His breath hitched as Eddie moved his head to stare into Richie’s eyes.

“W-what?” his voice cracking with uncertainty. Richie didn’t know how to respond so he didn’t. Both boys just staring in silence. Neither of them wanting to be the next to speak. After what could’ve been ages, the silence had become unbearable.

“Richie…” Eddie’s tone was stern, he wanted answers, “what did you say?” The terrified boy below him was shaking. He broke away from Eddie’s gaze. The feeling of tears started to well up behind his eyes. He would not cry right now, not in front of Eddie.

He cleared his throat, pulling himself together. “Oh, ya know Eds. Love ya and all that. You’re my best friend.” It was a long shot but Richie had to try to mend this situation. Eddie only stared.

“No, that’s not what you said.”

“It’s basically what I said.”

“Trashmouth, I’m gonna need you to not fucking lie to me right now.” Eddie had sat up by now, legs crossed beside his boy. Richie just laid there, arms around himself instead of Eddie. The wall must’ve been the most interesting thing he’d ever seen. He couldn’t tear his eyes away.

Have you ever just decided FUCK IT? Richie has.

“I said…I’m madly and utterly in love with you. My dear Eddie Spaghetti. I’m not sure when this changed from a casual fuck to much much more. But here I am. Dying to be this close to you for the rest of my days. Look at those lips! I wanna kiss them every day. Cute dates? You got it baby! Hands cold? Use mine to warm them! Jesus Eddie, I just wanna scream to the world that you’re mine. I know this is unrequited but I guess my heart needed to speak up before my brain could interfere. Regardless of anything I just hope we can still be friends and that I didn’t make you too uncomfortable.”

Richie took in a much needed breath and finally tore his gaze from the wall. Eddie’s face was unreadable. His eyes wide and mouth agape. Now was not a time that Richie could handle the silence. He gave up.

“I’m sorry Eds, uh I mean Eddie. I’ll let myself out. I shouldn’t have just thrown this all on you.” He was off the bed and scrambling to find his clothes in seconds. Eddie, still speechless, didn’t stop him. The tears finding their way back to his eyes. Richie couldn’t bring himself to fight them back this time. He just let them fall.

Having finally dressed himself he turned back to Eddie one last time. Then headed for the door. His tear stained cheeks breaking Eddie’s heart.

“You idiot, Trashmouth.” Richie stopped, hand on the door. He knew he was an idiot, especially to think that just maybe they could be together.

“This is your room dumbass.” Eddie stood, walking to Richie. He took his hand off the handle and held it within his own. “You’re also an idiot for thinking, even for a second, that I wouldn’t feel the same.”

“But, but you didn’t say anything.”

“I was…pausing for dramatic effect. I, uh, also couldn’t believe you felt the same. I’ve been trying to figure out how to tell you for weeks. I am so sorry I made you cry, babe.” Eddie’s thumb wiping away the stray tears Richie had let fall. He cupped his face, pulling him down for a sweet kiss. Richie’s face broke into the largest smile he’s probably ever had. He kissed back with all the emotion he could muster.

This kiss.

This was his favorite. In the past, their kisses had been rushed, hungry, needy. Both just needing to get their rocks off. Not this time though, this time it was slow and soft. Eddie’s arms around his neck and Richie’s snaked around Eddie’s waist. You could feel the love within this kiss. Each boy smiling, and excited for this new chapter of their lives.

“I’m not gay.” Eddie said breaking away but his smile never left.

“My dick was literally in your ass half an hour ago.” Eddie’s face went red.

“Beep beep Richie,” Eddie laughed, “I love you Trashmouth Tozier.”

“I love you too, my Eddie Spaghetti.”

A/N: Thank you so much for reading. Please feel free to message me about this, I know I’m not a great author so critic is greatly appreciated. AH I love this pairing. Let me know if you want more fics! I plan to write more :)


Requested By: @purelyparker

hi there :-) i love your writing sm so i was wondering if you could write a tom holland imagine based off of the song “give me love” by ed sheeran where the reader breaks up with tom bc of his hectic acting schedule but they both aren’t taking the breakup very well (however THERES A HAPPY ENDING?? HOPEFULLY???) but that’s just an idea; it’s totally up to you to put your own spin on it or go in a different direction !! thank you SOSO much🤗💛

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader

Description: Tom had been traveling a lot lately, so much to the point you rarely saw him at all, sure you’d call and text occasionally, but that wasn’t enough, you supported his acting career 100%, but you couldn’t take it anymore.

Warnings: Kinda sad, slight mention of alcohol, but then happiness :)

Word Count: 2,661

A/N: This actually turned out a lot better than I thought it was going to tbh, so I hope you enjoy it :)) Also, this gif has nothing to do with the imagine, I just thought it was a cute gif of Tom, oops.

Originally posted by ridreyrholland

It had been two months since you last seen Tom, he was off filming for Spider-Man Homecoming, which you totally understood, it took dedication and time, but so did your relationship with him.

Normally when he went off and filmed movies you two were okay, you didn’t normally have issues and you’d still see him and talk almost everyday, but this time it was different.

Tom just disappeared, you’d get an occasional text here and there, sometimes a phone call, but that was it.

You were left in the dark, just like a fan was.

It’s not that you didn’t love his fans, you did with all your heart, they were half the reason you were still sane, since they seemed to have more knowledge about Tom than you did yourself, and you were the one dating him.

You spent those long two months trying to decide on what to do, on what you thought was right and necessary, or more so healthy.

You knew deep down this relationship with Tom was fading, it was becoming stressful and making you more and more upset as the days went by.

‘Cause lately I’ve been waking up alone,

Pain splattered teardrops on my shirt.

Every morning you’d wake up, in hope of a good morning text, literally anything to show that maybe, just maybe he remembered you, but there was never anything.

This crushed your heart, everyday.

Until one day you had enough, you didn’t want to do this, but it was for the best, it was the right decision, it was the smart decision, this relationship wasn’t healthy for you anymore.

You started packing your belongings from Tom’s apartment, tears streaming down your face as you packed up boxes of your belongings.

You dreaded leaving his clothes behind that you always wore, but you knew if you took them you’d never let him go, and you needed to, it was for the best you would tell yourself.

You took one last look around his apartment, the one you had been living in for the past year, all the memories you two had created there were slowly being erased.

You let out a choked sob as you picked up the few boxes you had, before closing and locking the apartment door, and off to your new tiny little apartment your parents had gotten you a while back.

It was a few hours away from Tom’s which was good in a small sense, but at the same time your mind was moving at warp speed, unable to process you were moving back into your old apartment.

You arrived at nightfall, pulling your belongings out of your car before entering your tiny living space, you always had the feeling of comfort and safety in your apartment.

Maybe tonight I’ll call ya,

Maybe I should let you go.

You set your boxes on the counter of your kitchen, pulling out your phone, shakily dialing in Tom’s number.

You pressed the phone to your ear hesitantly, hearing it ring a few times before someone picked up.

“Hello?” A voice rung through your apartment, making your knees go weak.

“Hey Tom..” You murmured into the phone, biting your lip nervously, a bad habit you had gotten.

“Oh, hey Y/N! What’s up?” He questioned casually, as if he had no clue in the world how distant he had been with you these past few months.

“I-I uhm..” You stuttered, your heart beating rapidly, as you nervously swallowed, which Tom could hear through the phone.

“Y/N, what’s wrong? Are you okay?” Tom questioned worriedly, making you blink back tears that were daring to fall down your cheeks.

“No.. Tom.. Things aren’t okay.. They haven’t been for a while..” You spoke, voice barely above a whisper, but Tom heard you clear as day, his heart starting to beat quicker.

“Y-Y/N, you’re starting to scare me, what’s going on?” He stammered, he was now sitting down at a table on set.

“Tom..” You started, wiping your hand across your cheeks, tears continuing to fall down them.

“Do you realize how long it’s been since we’ve talked?” You asked, sitting down on a stool in your kitchen, waiting for his answer.

Tom sat there for a minute, puzzled at your question, until he started to realize how he’d been acting, as if you didn’t even exist.

“Y/N, o-oh my god, I’m s-so sorry.” Tom apologized, his eyes wide as he started to put pieces together.

“Tom, just stop, please?” You whimpered out, pinching the bridge of your nose.

“Y/N, p-please don’t do this..” Tom whispered, his voice cracking, he couldn’t bare lose you.

“Tom, this isn’t healthy, I can’t keep living like this..” You whispered, sniffling, your heart hurting the more you spoke.

“I can change, I can fix things, I-I promise..” Tom pleaded, tears starting to brim his eyes.

“Listen, I love you, but.. I-I can’t do this anymore.. I think.. W-We should b-break u-up..” You stuttered, your heart breaking into a million pieces as you spoke the most awful words.

“N-No, Y/N, p-please! N-No! I-I can’t l-lose you.” Tom cried out, tears now falling down his cheeks, but he didn’t even care anymore if anyone saw him.

“I-I’m so sorry..” You whispered, choking back sobs, as you heard Tom letting out his own.

“Y/N, d-don’t do this, p-please..” He continued to plead, only making it worse for the both of you.

“It’s for the best, I love you, goodbye Tom.” You whispered, hanging up before you could hear anymore of his plea’s.

You slowly slid down the stool, leaning back against your counter, letting out strangled sobs, your heart broken into small tiny fragments.

Tom on the other hand was staring at his phone, unable to process what had just happened.

His hands were shaking, tears were streaming down his red cheeks, his hair was a mess from running and tugging on it too many times.

“Hey Tom, we’re ready to shoot the next scene and, -oh, good lord what happened? Are you okay?” The producer asked, seeing Tom’s state wasn’t exactly stable at the current moment.

Tom just stared ahead of him, unable to produce words, all he could think about was you, and how he had let you down, made you feel like you were forgotten, not important to him, when you actually meant the entire world to him.

You were the reason he woke up every morning, the reason he was happy all the time, the reason he was as successful as he was, you were his light, but now you were gone, and now everything was dark.

“Tom, hey man, what’s going on?“ Jacob rushed over, after the producer told him how worried they were about his mental state.

"Buddy, it’s me, talk to me.” Jacob pleaded, looking over Tom and internally cringing at how much of a disaster he looked.

“Y-Y/n, she b-broke up with m-me.” Tom stammered out, looking up at his friend, who had a look of shock on his face.

“Dude, I’m so sorry. What happened?” Jacob asked carefully, not wanting Tom to have a emotional breakdown even worse.

“I became distant, without even realizing it, and it broke her.” Tom wiped his face, looking at the table sadly.

“You can win her back buddy, I know it.” Jacob tried to convince him, anything to make him lighten up just the tiniest bit.

“I really blew it Jacob, you should of heard her, she sounded so broken, and a-alone and it’s all m-my fault! I made the only person I loved leave me all because I was too much of an idiot.” Tom spoke furiously, hitting the table, startling Jacob.

“Alright, you know what lets just take a break today, you can chill and do what you need to, and we can figure this all out.” Jacob suggested, as Tom nodded slightly, before Jacob went to the producer, who agreed it was a good idea.

Two days passed and you were a total mess, you refused to leave your apartment, your friends tried calling and texting you, but you just ignored them, wanting to be alone.

You just laid in your bed, the curtains closed, a candle lit on your kitchen counter, making your apartment smell like crisp fall air.

‘Cause lately I’ve been craving more,

And it’s been a while, but I still feel the same,

After my blood turns into alcohol,

All I want is the taste that your lips allow.

Without Tom you didn’t know what to do with your life, he was such a huge part of you and now he was missing, a chunk of you was missing and you were lost.

You tried drinking, to numb the pain, but nothing worked, it just made you even more miserable than before.

You needed him.

And he needed you.

The producer had allowed Tom and Jacob to return back home for a few days to figure things out, once he got to his apartment he had expected you to still be there, but once he entered he noticed that none of your belongings were there anymore, and the shirts you once wore were folded on his bed.

In that moment he felt his heart drop, you really had left.

“Dude, where could she be?” Jacob questioned, as they set their belongings in his apartment.

“She returned back to her old one, she used to live there until she moved in with me.” Tom replied, grabbing his keys as they both headed out the door again.

They drove the few hours to your apartment, Tom was a nervous wreck, he wasn’t sure how you’d react to seeing him after all this time.

“Okay buddy, you got this, I’ll wait in the car.” Jacob gave a small smile, along with a thumbs up as Tom got out and walked up to your apartment door, hesitantly knocking.

When you didn’t answer he got nervous, but he saw your car parked in the driveway so he knew you were home.

This made him worry, he quickly fidgeted to find the spare key you had given him, he swiftly unlocked the door, noticing the darkness of the apartment, and the intense smell of alcohol and a fall scented candle.

“Y/N? Y/N where are you?” Tom shouted, before seeing you laying in your bed, staring blankly into space.

“Shit, Y/N.” Tom rushed over, pulling you into his arms tightly, kissing your head.

“T-Tom?” You mumbled out, blinking rapidly before realizing he wasn’t a figment of your imagination, that you weren’t actually hallucinating him.

“Yes, it’s me.” He whispered, now holding your face in his hands gently.

“It’s really you.” You whispered, tears slipping down your face, you couldn’t believe he came to see you.

“It’s really me babe, I’m so so sorry, for everything.” Tom whispered, caressing your cheek gently with his thumb.

“I missed you.” You whimpered, moving your face more into his hand, while placing your hands on his.

“I missed you too darling, I promise that’ll never happen again.” He kissed your forehead, causing you to close your eyes.

“Please, give me another chance.” He pleaded, making you lock eyes with him, before a small smile appeared on your lips as you gave a slight nod.

Tom’s eyes lit up, his heart racing before his lips met yours, the kiss passionate and full of pent up emotions.

“I love you so much, even when you’re an asshole sometimes.” You laughed slightly, your forehead pressed against his.

“I love you too darling, and I know I can be, but that’s why I have someone like you to keep me in place.” He chuckled, kissing your nose before wrapping his arms around you once again.

You both laid there for a bit, catching up, laughing, smiling, kissing, more talking, more kissing.

You knew you always loved this apartment of yours, because no matter what you always felt safe, and now you realized one of those reasons was because of Tom, he made you feel safe, he made you feel at home, because he was your home.

And always would be, no matter what.

You smiled at Tom who was watching you in amusement, before his phone started ringing.

“Hello?” Tom answered, before a smile formed on his face and laughter escaped his lips.

“Yes Jacob, you can come up now.” Tom laughed, making your eyes widen and laugh along with him.

“You didn’t tell me Jacob was here! Jacob I’m coming!” You shouted, sprinting off the bed and running down the hallway.

“But babe, what about me!” Tom shouted after you, a playful grin on his face as he watched you sprint down the hallway.

“Are you kidding? Jacob all the way!” You teased, a playful smile on your face as you tackled Jacob in a hug, making him loose his balance.

“Nooooo! My smoothie!”

Jensen brought up his heartbreaking dream about how the show ends a long time ago at a convention. The dream he had about Dean giving the Impala away to a stranger and trading it for the other guy’s motorcycle because Sam is dead and Dean doesn’t “need the extra seat anymore.” 

It’s clearly something that Jensen still thinks about (or maybe even still dreams about?) because he brought it up in an interview with Entertainment Weekly last Friday at Comic-Con with Jared and Misha there, too. He retold the story about the dream; Jared already knew about the dream (not just because he was sitting next to Jensen at the convention when he shared it, but because Jared shared in an interview that he remembers that day Jensen came to set and was shook up from the dream and asked if he was okay and Jensen told him about it. Jared talks about it here: x). 

Misha, though, was hearing it for the first time and said:  “I can see the emotion in your face talking about it. It’s amazing to think that you’ve lived with these characters for so long that the idea of one of them dying actually even makes you, as Jensen, want to tear up.” (Misha also mentioned during the Supernatural panel at SDCC that the three of them were choked up about it.) 

Afterwards, the three took a pause before Jared said: “I feel like I know Jensen, I know Dean, I know Misha, I know Cas, I know myself, I know Sam, and [when the show ends], it’s going to feel like losing a friend. When it’s all said and done, it’s going to be tough. I’m going to lose several friends.”

Thanks for the tears, guys

(via Samantha Highfill’s article: x)

I Love You || Peter Parker Imagine

(what even is a good title?)

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Requested by anon:  could you write an imagine where you’ve been dating peter but he seems distant and you think hes seeing someone else or cheating on you so you get really mad and go to his house and wait for him while he’s out being spider man and he comes in wearing his suit and i guess you can take it from there,,,love your writing btw!

Word Count: 1,810 words


No Homecoming Spoilers

Originally posted by hardyness

Y/N and Peter. Peter and Y/N. They were Midtown High’s It couple. The entire school idolized their relationship. Most students, when they walked to class, would see the two by the lockers smiling and holding each other as they talked. They could barely be apart from one other.

The two teenagers have been dating ever since the summer before freshmen year. They were neighbors so they practically grew up together, which made there relationship even cuter. Y/N loved Peter with all of her heart. She was there for him when his Uncle Ben died and when he got that crazy Stark Internship. She was always there to witness his downfalls and his uprisings.

The It couple was slowly starting to get torn apart a few months after the death of Peter’s Uncle. He became distant and everyone noticed. Everyone noticed how him and Y/N stopped talking to each other in the hallways at school, or how he would eat lunch with only Ned instead of eating lunch with the three of them. Dates with Peter were either always cancelled or always getting interrupted by his Aunt suddenly needing him.

Their relationship had gone like this for the past few months and Y/N was sick and tired of it. She hated that Peter was ignoring her calls, canceling dates and overall, not talking to her. She thought he was acting like this from the stress of balancing the internship and school. Y/N’s friends put the horrid thought into her head that Peter might’ve been seeing someone else.

“Peter would never do that to me!” She argued with her friends when they finally decided that it was best if she knew what might have been going on.

“Y/N just think about it,” He friend said, trying to convince her, “he’s cancelling dates, ignoring your calls, and not really talking to you. The signs are all there.”

Her friends looked at her solemnly. Tears started to flow down her cheeks, “He…….he wouldn’t.” She was only saying this now to convince herself more than to convince her friends that Peter was faithful. Except now she was finding it to be the only answer.

One day, Y/N stood in front of the Parker household, trying to compose herself. She let out a huge breath of air before knocking on the door slowly. Y/N didn’t usually knock, she always just let herself in because Peter and May were like family to her. But things were different now, she barley knew Peter anymore.

The door opened and she was greeted with the kind, slightly surprised smile of Peter’s Aunt. “Hey, Y/N. Come in, I feel like I haven’t seen you in ages.” She exclaimed, putting a hand on the young girl’s shoulder to direct her inside. Y/N walked into the room some more, May shutting the door.

“That’s cause you haven’t.” She mumbled looking at her shoes.

“What was that?” May asked, raising an eyebrow and facing Y/N.

She looked up,closing her eyes for a second to remember what she was originally here for, “Is Peter here?”

“No. I have no idea where he is most of the time,” she chuckled, “but you can go wait in his room if you’d like.” Y/N nodded her head, indicating that she would wait. May went back to what she was doing while Y/N walked to Peter’s room.

She walked to his bedroom door, leaning against the door frame with her arms crossed. Reminiscing on all of the things they did in here when they were little brought a small smile to her face.

In this very room, when Y/N and Peter were little kids, he kissed her. They were sitting on the ground playing with his action figures. “Y/N, do you love me?” Little ten year old Peter asked. Y/N giggled, “Of course I do Pete, you’re my best friend.”

Peter gave his full attention to you and not to the toys. “When we’re older, I want to marry you.” Y/N stopped playing with the objects in her hand, a huge smile appearing on her lips. “I want to marry you too, Pete.” He suddenly leaned closer to her, puckering his lips and hastily placing them against Y/N’s. It was only a peck but when he pulled away, the two of them had a similar crimson blush on their cheeks.

Unbeknownst to the kids, May stood in the doorway. She had went to the room to tell them about lunch, but instead, experienced their first kiss which brought a smile to her face.

Y/N couldn’t help but think that their friendship would be ruined as well as their romantic relationship. She slumped her shoulders, dragging her body into the room and onto Peter’s bed. She reclined on the bed, feeling the comforter for what may be the last time. She placed her head on his pillow then turning on her side, breathing in the scent that was distinctively Peter’s. She had done this on multiple occasions from all the many sleepovers. A few tears had spilled from her eyes and down her face yet again.

Her lip quivered as she saw a picture frame on his desk. In the frame was a photo of the two of them together on their one year anniversary. Peter was behind her, his arms wrapped around her middle as he was kissing her cheek. Y/N had a huge smile on her face, her hands resting on top of his.

It was a time where they were happy together. Why would he keep that if everyone thought he was cheating on her? She sat up on the bed, feeling the blankets through her fingers once again. She waited, rubbing her hands together between her thighs.

Y/N was startled when she heard a noise coming from Peter’s window. She gave her attention to the window, seeing a flash of red coming through. She looked up seeing a figure on the ceiling, but not just any figure. It was Spider-Man, the city’s hero. Why would Spider-Man be in Peter’s room?

She sat there, eyes wide and lips parted slightly as she watched the man crawl on the ceiling, towards the door. He slowly and quietly shut the door of the bedroom, jumping down. He let out a sigh before pulling off his mask. He turned around and was greeted with the face of his girlfriend.



They both said simultaneously shocked at one another. Y/N jumped up off of the bed, facing her boyfriend who had dropped the Spider-Man mask onto the floor. “Your'e Spider-Man,” She said breaking the ice.

“W-What, that’s ridiculous. I-I was at a costume party and I, I bought this at the store.” He stated, playing withe the suit. Y/N looked at him slightly confused, “Peter, what costume party happens in July? Besides that, you were just crawling on the ceiling.”

Peter sighed, looking down at the suit. He took it off, grabbing a shirt to throw on. He hid the suit in his closet and walked over to his bed to sit. He patted the seat next to him, indicating Y/N to sit next to him. They sat in silence.

“Is this why you’ve been ignoring me?” Y/N questioned the boy. Peter looked shocked trying to defend himself, “I haven’t been ignoring you.”

Y/N scoffed, “Peter, we haven’t gone on a date in months and you always ignore my calls and texts. We rarely talk anymore.” He sat there, realizing all of the time that had passed by. “I-I didn’t know it was that long.” He mumbled, playing with his fingers, not making eye contact.

Y/n laughed a humorless laugh, “Everyone convinced me that you were cheating on me.”

Peter turned to face her, eyebrows raised from the accusation, “I would never do that to you, Y/N,” he said sincerely. Peter turned to her looking deeply in her eyes, placing his hands on her cheeks, just above her jaw. “I-I love you. I love you more than the amount of stars in the sky. I love you more than all the water in the ocean,” by now, there were tears falling from both of their eyes from the entire situation, foreheads pressed against one another, “I love you more than anything you could ever imagine.”

“I’m sorry I doubted you,” She cried, grabbing onto his forearms. Peter shook his head, “Don’t be, I should’ve told you from the start.” He whipped away the tears that were coming from her now red eyes.

Peter began to slowly close the space between them, leaning in closer to her lips. Everything was quiet, besides the short breaths the two of them made. Y/N could then smell that smell that was distinctively Peter’s. He closed his eyes tilting his head slightly, making the space between them disappear. It felt like he was home, that he was finale where he was meant to be.

Y/N closed her eyes, leaning into him. He kissed her like his life depended on it, like he was more needy for that rather than air. Their lips moved in sync while Y/N’s hands traveled to the back of Peter’s neck. His lips always seemed to taste as sweet as sugar. She ruffled her fingers through his dark locks, tugging lightly as their lips melded together.

They both pulled away, a faint blush on their cheeks from the rush of the moment. The two were breathing heavily, not letting go of one another.

After they caught their breath, the teens lay down on the bed, wrapping the fluffy comforter around them. She had her back pressed against his chest as they always used to do. Peter enveloped his hands around her waist, pulling Y/N closer to him. Y/N let out a content sigh just before Peter left a quick peck on her neck.

“I can’t believe you’re fucking Spider-Man.” Y/N mumbled with her eyes closed. “Well, technically, you were fucking Spider-Man.” He chuckled with his eyes closed as well.

“Oh my God, Peter.” She said slightly offended but laughing nonetheless. When her laughing subsided Peter began to speak, “I love you Y/N.”

“I love you too, Pete.” She said before drifting off to sleep blissfully in the arms of her beloved.


The first time Sirius Black laid eyes on Remus Lupin, he was curious.

With his shabby robe, that frayed at the hem, and ended halfway down his calf, and the amber hair that seemed to either shine golden or grey in the candlelight, Remus Lupin walked with his head bowed and his eyes dragging along the floor. He looked like he would have the earth devour him, if only it opened wide.

Sirius couldn’t remember ever seeing anyone like that, and his eyes had remained snagged on the boy, who was fading away as he sat on the stool. The hat was placed on his head and began murmuring. Sirius wouldn’t admit it now, but he crossed his fingers underneath the table.


Blush staining his cheeks, he stumbled down the few steps and took a seat at the roaring table. Sirius leaned backwards, craning his neck as far back as he could to see him. Through all the nervousness, through the threads of his golden hair falling over his face, there was a slight smile.

And Sirius felt his curiosity increase tenfold.

The first time Sirius Black spoke to Remus Lupin, he was nervous.

It wasn’t that Sirius Orion Black the Third did not get nervous- that wasn’t it, at all-  it was just that he had been born into a family of wealth and the cloak of privilege was snugly swathed over him. If not for any other reason, it was simply because Sirius Orion Black the Third had never had any reason to be nervous.

And yet, on their first night at Hogwarts, he felt a buzzing, quivering feeling deep inside of him as he approached the quiet boy from earlier on. The boy was sitting in a corner of the electrified Common Room, leaning into the shadows as though he belonged to them, and adamantly avoiding eye contact with everyone in the room. Even as Sirius sat beside him, the boy kept his eyes tracing the swirls on the carpet below his feet. Sirius wanted to say something but when he opened his mouth, his tongue felt heavy and twisted, so he closed it again. His dark eyes flicked to the boy, and he noticed the thin scar, reaching up into his hair and kissing the corner of his mouth.

The boy must have felt his gaze for he looked up and they stared at one another, into one another, silence palpable between them before Sirius said quietly, almost breathlessly, “I have scars too.”

And the boy smiled again, but this was a sad smile; one that pulled his lips down more than up, and he said, “My name’s Remus.”

“I’m Sirius,” he smiled, eyes lighting up.

Remus’ eyebrows pulled into a frown. “Like the star?”

And Sirius felt himself frown too, but not in puzzlement, in wonder at the scarred boy before him.

The first time Sirius Black was touched by Remus Lupin, he flinched.

They were running. Faster than their legs could feasibly carry them, their laughs being the only remnant of their brilliance. They could hear Filch screaming curse words after them and the clang of the disarray they had caused followed them around each corner and down each corridor, until the quiet absconded them and their hearts beat so hard they feared they would break out of their fleshy prison.

They gasped for breath, still laughing shakily, disbelieving and euphoric. Remus’s eyebrows were raised and a grin lit up his face. He moved towards Sirius, slinging an arm around his shoulders and the latter flinched.

Remus’ arm dropped in sync with his grin.

Sirius felt his eyes close and the breathless euphoria was replaced in his blood by a heavy dread. For when his best friend had touched him, he felt not Remus Lupin, but his mother.

It didn’t take a genius to notice the change in his demeanour, nor the embarrassment that followed soon after. Remus stared, feeling realisation dawn upon him as Sirius clenched his eyes shut. He reached out to touch him again, to apologise, to comfort his friend but stopped short, his hand inches away.

He didn’t know what to do. Remus finally saw the scars.

And Sirius opened his eyes and offered him a trembling smile, seeing the outstretched hand. He held his breath and leaned into it.

Remus’ hand was warm through his clothes.

The first time Sirius Black found out about Remus Lupin, he didn’t quite believe it.

James told both him and Pete and although he could see the jigsaw pieces dropping into place, the doubt was very profound in his mind. He wasn’t sure whether he did not believe it, or did not want to believe it.

It was only when he asked Remus about it, watched as the life drained from his scarred face and trickled through the breath that left his lips, did Sirius realise it was true.

And he didn’t quite know what to say or do. He merely stood and stared as James and Peter tried to convince him that it didn’t matter- this furry little problem did not define him, they wouldn’t let it. He saw the way that Remus flickered before them, fading away. He saw how he became that same scarred little boy on their first night at Hogwarts, alone and frightened of the world.

“Are you sure?” Remus said shakily. He could not even look at them, at Sirius. “Are you sure you want me to stay? I wouldn’t mind- I mean, I wouldn’t blame you if you-“

He choked, the words jamming in his throat. There was a resignation to his voice, like he already knew the verdict, like he was waiting for it.

“If you wanted me kicked out of Hogwarts-“

“Kicked out?” Peter asked, his voice high pitch from incredulity. “Why would we do that?”

“Because- Because I’m a monster…”

“You’re being dramatic,” James said good-humouredly. “You fold your socks, Remus. Forgive me if I’m not trembling at the sight of you!”

“So you’re not- you’re not afraid of me?” Remus asked carefully, looking at them all with a pained yet unreadable expression on his face, as if he was gauging their seriousness. As if his life depended on it. “You don’t… but…but, I mean… werewolves, they’re not exactly… popular… or safe. For all you know, I could be dangerous!”

Sirius tried to grin. “Really, Lupin, what part of ‘you fold your socks’ isn’t getting through?”

Remus finally looked at him and he allowed himself to smile, and he hadn’t noticed but tears were slowly but surely falling down his cheeks. He took one step towards them before collapsing on the floor.

“Remus!” James shouted, jumping up to go and help his friend. The other two copied his movement. Putting one hand under his friend’s arm to try and lift him, with Sirius doing the same, he said, “Are you okay? What happened?”

“I- I just,” Remus faltered. Then he laughed. Loudly. Peter looked shocked, glancing fearfully at Sirius, who looked just as disconcerted. “I just feel so lucky to have you all as my friends.”

Then, the young werewolf started crying, on the floor of their dormitory, feeling something flutter and perch in his stomach. Belonging. It had to be.

And Sirius wrapped his arms around him, holding him close and tight in hopes that the broken pieces would stay together, and vowing that he would never let Remus Lupin, human or werewolf, fall apart again.

The first time Sirius Black realised he loved Remus Lupin, he couldn’t breathe.

The sun was sweet, sifting down from the sky and caressing their youthful bodies. The four of them laid on the bank of the Black Lake. James played with the snitch, letting it go then catching it before it could evade his clutch. Peter, sitting upright, was trying to do his homework, but his eyes kept straying to watch the golden bird flutter and speed away. Sirius was stretched out, eyes closed, feeing the warmth of summer ’75 wash over him. Remus was sat beside him, hugging his knees. He looked up at him through hooded eyes.

“You’re staring at me,” Remus said, and a small smirk curled at his lips. It was a regular sight now, that small, unassuming tilt of his mouth that hinted at the mischief hidden inside of him. He was older, no longer the scarred little boy from their first night at Hogwarts, but a young man with golden hair that fell past his ears and a more artistic face, with amber eyes and long eyelashes and a more profound dusting of freckles across his nose. His eyes strayed to him, looking sideways on. Sirius felt himself blush but pretended it was just the heat of the sun.

“See something you like?” Remus asked lightly, in his deep voice, grin wide on his face. Sirius didn’t reply.

Remus’ grin faltered and his eyebrows pulled together. He looked down at his friend, and Sirius shoved his hand up, pushing his face back. A string of indistinguishable noises mashed against the palm of his hand, as well as wet lips and teeth as Remus was caught off-guard. He wrenched his head away, looking at Sirius incredulously.

“No, I see a big fucking nerd,” Sirius replied.

Remus pretended to be offended, holding a hand to his heart but the laugh stole across his face before he could stop it and he ducked his head. Sirius watched him and swallowed.

“I’m a big nerd that beats you in every test we’ve had this term,” Remus said slyly, shooting him a glance. “Scratch that. All the tests we’ve had since first year.”

Sirius didn’t even give him chance to grin and launched himself at Remus, who was forced backwards. They rolled down the banking, causing Peter to squeak and twist out of the way. The two rolled, limbs tangled, wrestling harmlessly, laughing and growling and panting, until they came to a stop on the water’s edge. Sirius ended up on top, arms out to support his weight, breathing heavily. His dark hair was long and fell down past his face, tickling Remus, who was staring up at him in amused disbelief.

The laugh was high and honey-like, bursting from Remus’ lips before he could bite it back and he screwed his eyes closed. Sirius laughed too, breathlessly, and dropped his head to rest in the curvature of his friend’s shoulder. When they both felt spent, their ephemeral youth trickling out through their lips, Sirius lifted his head.

And he stared at Remus, whose eyes remained closed, a ghost of a smile playing his face. The freckles that painted his skin were like stars, and Sirius traced the constellations imprinted there, twirling around meteors and comets. He couldn’t breathe because there was something deep inside of him, like a butterfly fluttering its wings. And Sirius knew what it was immediately. He counted Remus’ freckles in hope it would go away.

The first time Sirius Black fell asleep in Remus Lupin’s arms, he felt invincible.


He woke up, the voice wrenching him from the clutches of the nightmare, eyes latching onto the first thing they saw, which happened to be Remus’s soft and freckled face. He looked paler than usual, the moonlight seeping through the curtains to find him.

Sirius closed his eyes, and his entire body throbbed, heaved from the fear it had been enraptured in. He must have been screaming. His throat felt torn and painful. His blanket was somewhere at the bottom of his bed- he must have been kicking out as well, and his skin was sticky from sweat.

Sirius opened his eyes again, unwillingly meeting Remus’ gaze. Concern leaked from him, from the frown marring his face to the sadness in his pretty eyes. He didn’t want him to worry for him, and he tried to smile but it was meek and shaky.

Remus sat him upright, climbing into bed behind him, legs stretched out and pulled Sirius to lie in the middle, head on his chest. Slowly, Sirius relaxed into him. Remus threaded his fingers through his hair, soothing him in the only way he knew how. He murmured, “It’s okay. I’ve got you. You’re safe here. They’re not coming for you, not ever. You’re safe here.”

And Sirius fell asleep, unafraid of the shapes in the darkness that resembled his father, because there was nothing tying him there. Nothing whatsoever because he realised that home wasn’t a place, it was a person. And it was the person you felt safest with, the person whose heartbeat you fell asleep to. And Remus Lupin’s heartbeat was the steadiest one of all.

The first time Sirius Black kissed Remus Lupin, he was crying.

The world didn’t feel real because his baby brother was no longer on it. And he screamed and yelled until his voice was hoarse and his throat felt like it might bleed and he would choke on the blood. He tore at his skin and hair and cried until he couldn’t see and all the while, Remus held onto him, gripping him so tightly that he left handprints; marks that were proof to the only thing keeping him tied to this existence.

When no more feelings would come to the surface, and he had finally turned to silence, Sirius stared at the floor. His baby brother, the one who he had checked under the bed for monsters for, and read Peter Pan to because the boys never had to grow up, was gone. He had been taken by the very monsters Sirius used to check for, and he could only remember the last words his brother said to him: “I guess it’s like the ticking crocodile. Time is chasing after all of us.”

Sirius could still see the smoking battlefield, witness to the last encounter he would ever have with him. They had both been bleeding heavily, fighting to stay alive, and the words had barely been a fracture on the air between them. They had stood beside one another, not as Death Eater and Order Member, not as dark and light, not as enemies but as brothers.

And now his brother was dead. Time had finally caught up to him.

Remus stood before Sirius, holding his face between his hands, gripping his jaw firmly. He stared into him, amber eyes frantic but unyielding.

“You are damaged and broken and unhinged,” Remus said and Sirius inhaled the words as though he needed them to survive. There was something so heartbreakingly truthful in him, so raw and tender and meaningful. “But so are shooting stars and comets and people still like to wish on those.”

And Sirius didn’t know what overcame him. Perhaps he was just waiting for the world to be beautiful again, because he hadn’t seen it that way for so long, but he leaned in and he kissed Remus Lupin. Sirius moved his lips against Remus’, relishing in the way the latter melted into him. There was nothing restrained about it; they were wild and ravaging, passionate and desperate, gasping for air and something that would make them feel alive again. Their hearts were throbbing, veins pulsing and rejuvenated, and they both thrived off of the vitality. There was something so beautiful about humans in despair, something so fresh and torn and unbridled.

And Sirius Black kissed Remus Lupin because he couldn’t afford not to. Because everything was being ripped away from him and he’d be damned if he let Remus be taken off of him too.

The first time Sirius Black made love to Remus Lupin, he didn’t feel real.

They were a delicate tangle of limbs and tongues and their flesh seared every time it touched. It felt like they were on fire; a flame of life and youth and the desperation of having Death breathing down your neck. But the only breaths they felt in that moment were each other’s, inhaling everything the other exhaled, living on the other’s life.

Sirius had never felt anything like it. Remus whispered in his ear, over and over, punctuating each kiss with the words, “Rwy'n dy garu di.”

The following morning, when the sunlight crept through the slit in the curtains to lay witness to their tarnished love, they faced one another, smiling muzzily.

Sirius murmured, “If every morning started off like this, maybe I’d actually be able to sleep at night.”

Remus smiled at him, and locked their hands together, playing with his fingers. “I dreamt about you,” he told him.

Sirius’ eyebrows raised, evidence to his piquing interest. He leaned forward and said excitedly, “Was I murdering people?”

A slightly exasperated smile curled Remus’ lips and his eyes were amused and gentle when he said, “I was trying to be romantic.”

“Oh.” Sirius leaned back, but his cheeks were pink. He stared at their interwoven fingers. “Well, what boring adventure was I up to in this dream then, since I was regretfully not murdering people?”

“You were alive. With me. And all of this was over, and we were happy,” Remus said in a quiet voice. “And we were a big family. You and me and James and Lily and Pete. We were a family again.”

“One day that won’t just be a dream,” Sirius told him, reaching up to stroke his cheekbone. Remus tried to smile and nodded.

“I know.”

There were not many things that Sirius Black cared for. In his life, he thought he had an approximate total of three.

One, was, of course the map. God, Sirius loved the map. He loved every crease and stain, every smudge and line. He had memorised the folds and crevices of the parchment until he could trace it in the air, even when the map was nowhere in sight. He loved the midnight memories and the escapades it represented. He loved the fact that it was home.

The second was exactly that. Hogwarts had taken him in, had sheltered him and ensured his safety. The stone walls had witnessed his growth, and he could not possibly think of anywhere else he loved more. It was the only place he felt he belonged.

And the third, as he stared at the gold of his hair, and the star-like freckles that dotted his face, was irrevocably and undeniably, Remus Lupin. 

That was a lie before, Sirius thought, feeling Remus’ hand ghost up his arm. This was where he belonged.

The first time Sirius Black killed for Remus Lupin, he was shocked.

The spell had left his lips as easily as a whistle might, or a hum of an old song. It had left his lips, then the green light groped at the tip of his wand and exploded outwards. The spell had collided with the Death Eater before he could even change his mind.

Remus watched it all. When his body hit the floor, they both stared at his lifeless corpse with blank eyes and then Remus raised his gaze to Sirius, something frigid and scared lurking there. Sirius willed himself to feel the same sort of revulsion as Remus did, and for a moment, a sliver of shock rang through him. But then the war crashed down and every one of Remus’ breaths came out as small globes of white on the air, cold but proof that he was still alive.

And then, Sirius felt nothing at all.

The first time Sirius Black saved Remus Lupin, he nearly died.

The green spell had been spiralling towards him, whistling through the air as though it was something as trivial as a ball waiting to be caught. But there was no way Remus was catching this ball. Time might be chasing after them all, but it was far away from Remus.

Sirius hadn’t even waited. He had run, faster than he possibly could, feeling the wind whip past him as he raced to get where he needed to be. And for a second… he thought he wasn’t going to make it-

But he did. Sirius leapt at him, shoving Remus down and he swore the spell tickled his ear. They laid, gripping one another, numb to their very core.

Then, a yell tore through the static and they were wrenched back into action, scrambling to their feet. They faced each other, panting. Remus was pale, his eyes wide and perturbed.

Sirius wanted to say something, but words evaded his mouth. Adrenaline pounded within him.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Remus stressed, and his scars throbbed with fury. “You could’ve died! Do you never think-?”

“I would die for you!” Sirius said and there was a desperate honesty clinging to his words.

Remus shook his head and he shouted, “That’s just it, Sirius! I don’t want you to die for me!”

His voice was ragged, verging on breaking. Sirius frowned, and his mouth opened and closed, forming questions that were lost on Remus’ ears. He looked puzzled, like he couldn’t quite understand.

Remus licked his lips, and he let his eyes trail around the bloody forest they were fighting in, raking trees and grass and bodies, because the pained confusion on Sirius’ face was too much for him to bear.

Eventually, he sighed and dragged them back to him. Sirius still hadn’t said anything- he couldn’t.

“You think that love means dying for someone,” Remus said carefully, trying to control the volume of his voice. “But it doesn’t. Love is nothing if you die. Okay, Sirius? IT’S NOTHING!” He broke off. He was trembling, and he couldn’t even look at the boy who had saved his life, who had cared for him and looked after him and reminded him of purpose every time he felt like he was losing track. He couldn’t look at Sirius because the truth was tearing him apart. Remus said finally, in a voice so honest it was breaking, “If you die, I’m nothing.”

And it took him a moment to see it, but Remus Lupin was shaking and his ragged edges were fading away again, because to him, Sirius Black was everything.

Much later on, when the skies had grown darker and the clouds were suffocating and no light could break through them, they laid in bed, not facing one another. Their bodies were pulsing with life, however tired that life was.

“Remus,“ Sirius said quietly and so suddenly that it seemed to fracture the serenity of the night.

"What?” He whispered back.

“I think I know what love means.”

Remus paused. He remembered their argument about that and it seemed so long ago, like something he had to dig up from the chaos of the past. “And what does it mean?”

Sirius didn’t speak for a while, and Remus was about to turn around to look at him when he said, “It’s not dying for someone. It’s living for them. It’s loving someone so much that you’d do anything to make it back to them. I get it now.”

And Sirius made a vow right then, as his fingers reached behind him to hook onto Remus’, that he would live for him. No matter how many skies had fallen, Sirius Black would live. If only for Remus Lupin.

The first time Sirius Black heard that Remus Lupin hated him, he tried to kill himself.

The cell was dark and cold. The shadows were even darker, but the guards that paced on the other side of those black bars were the coldest. They looked in at him as they passed, their hollow eyes the only indication of their darkness and Sirius tried to avoid looking at them because they fed off of the darkness inside of him and God only knew that would be enough to last them a lifetime.

He waited. He waited for weeks, months, years, but Remus Lupin did not come to visit him.

So Sirius curled up in a corner of his cell, not watching as the plates of food piled up at his door, not looking up as he wasted away, becoming a ghost of the boisterous boy he used to be. It was strange. Now, it was he who was fading away. But Remus wasn’t there to see it.

He remembered the way James’ face had looked. His glasses were askew, and before he’d moved on, Sirius had paused to straighten them. His best friend hated wearing wonky glasses.

He remembered the way Lily’s vibrant hair was fanned out around her head, like a halo of fire, only her halo was devoid of light because Lily and James Potter were dead.

And they thought he had killed them. Remus thought he had killed them.

It hurt more than anything else. It hurt more than life itself, more than death, more than the sky shattering and the pain of the shards that fell from the ruin.

This hurt more. This was agony.

It was hot, writhing inside of him, burning him. He could feel his bones ignite, and the tears streamed out of his eyes, but Sirius made no noise. He was consumed with sadness, with the overwhelming notion of ‘This is it. This is all there is now.’ Nothing mattered anymore because this was it; the black cell with the cold guards, starving an innocent man of life.

This was all there was ever going to be.

And Sirius fell backwards, his body too exhausted and frail to function. He could feel Time’s breath whisper against the back of his neck, and when he closed his eyes, he saw Remus’ face and he counted the freckles.

The first time Sirius Black saw Remus Lupin after all those years, he held him.

He had forgotten how much he longed for this touch. He had forgotten how warm Remus was through his clothes. He had forgotten how the beat of his heart felt as it resonated through both of their chests. Sirius had forgotten how Remus had felt, and he had nearly died to remember it.

But now they were back, and it felt like some sort of dream, except this was something that not even dreams were made of. There were less freckles on his leathery face, and his golden hair was greying, and the scar that kissed his mouth had faded away.

And yet, Remus’ arms around him still felt like home. It had been so long, but this was the beginning of a beautiful world again. Because Sirius was home.

The last time Sirius Black saw Remus Lupin, he realised something.

The atrium was dark and metallic; not really the place he had always imagined he’d die in. Spells whizzed both in front and behind him, but they didn’t matter, because one had already touched him. He could feel Time’s breath hot on his neck.

The archway reached out for him, and the tendrils were softer than Sirius had imagined. He could hear his Godson screaming, and his eyes ghosted over the raw and wild expression on the young boy’s face and then he saw him.

Sirius saw Remus.

There was some sort of disbelief fringing his amber eyes. He was clutching at Harry, holding him back, and the desperation that poisoned every freckle made Sirius want to fight, tooth and nail, to stay. But there was nothing he could do. He was dying. That was the simple and bitter truth of it.

It was in that moment, the moment of limbo between life and death, that Sirius realised something. He realised that maybe he was wrong, that love isn’t watching someone die- it’s watching them live.

And it’s watching them live with such passion. It’s watching them cry under the moonlight, and laugh with the stars, it’s kissing their forehead when daylight finally surrenders to the oncoming clutches of the night. It’s watching them breathe and hope and dare to dream. And my God, it was loving their life so much that it invoked a breathlessness sensation, which struck you with the most overwhelming of unfathomable thoughts. It was watching them live and knowing that you are the most privileged human in the world for it.

And Sirius Black had watched Remus Lupin live. He had seen his life in snippets and in full, blown out explosions. He had seen him as a scarred and nervous child, fading away on his first night at Hogwarts, and as a free-spirited boy, racing down hallway after hallway, his laughter peeling behind him. He had seen Remus as a werewolf, a self-proclaimed monster that was really no more monstrous than he, himself. He had seen him as a top student, as a prefect, as a Best Man, as a best friend, as a soldier. Sirius had seen Remus Lupin’s stars and constellations, he had bared every inch of him and kissed every scar. He had watched him live the most extraordinary of extraordinary lives.

And Sirius knew, that he was the most privileged human in the world for it.

|| missing you ||

tags [permanent + peter parker]: @ghostedwolf , @animexchocolate, @psychicwitchphilosopher , @pharaohkiller , @moonlight53 , @literatureandimmature, @daydr3ams-away, @wannabe-weasley , @mcusebstan , @tmrhollandkay , @pepcvina , @nekonerdxox , @lokigirl18 , @fangeekkk , @kylielo22 , @wavy-ley , @lghockey , @buckysendoftheline , @1022bridgetp , @potterjamesharry

**please don’t repost/plagiarize this story. Reblogs are fine**


When Peter kissed Liz during homecoming last year, you felt your heart break into a million pieces.

Your best friend, the boy that you’ve been in love with since the moment you laid eyes on him was taken from you, his heart cruelly ripped away from your grasps.

Keep reading

this is love

aged up to 20/21

song of this fic is sober by bazzi

eddie kaspbrak was in pain.

and no, it wasn’t because he foolishly had drank too much the night before and had a raging headache. it wasn’t because his voice was hoarse and his throat was sore from the screaming out his sorrows. and no, it wasn’t from the cut above his eyebrow left untreated because the drunken haze afflicted on him last night.

no, this kind of pain was one that burrowed into your skin and festered into something dangerous. the type of pain that bruised you, that haunted you throughout all your days, and most horribly, your nights. this pain you couldn’t escape. this pain was love.

eddie kaspbrak was in love.

he looked beside him at the mess of curls laying on his pillow. his eyes traced the trail of freckles dusted upon perfect cheekbones and a structured nose. eddie’s small fingers reached and ran themselves through the dark locks, brushing his thumb along his bed mate’s plump bottom lip.

suddenly eddie remembered how these things went. eddie retracted his hand like he’d been burned, tears threatening to spill out his eyes. no matter how many times they’d been in bed together, how many drunken confessions they’d shared, nothing ever changed.

richie tozier wasn’t his, and he never would be.

the thought sent a ripple of pain through eddie’s chest and suddenly the world became too blurry to see. this always happened. richie called him, he’d beg him to come out with him, they’d get drunk, and up in bed together and whisper promises of things they both knew would never come.

eddie knew how these things worked, he knew richie. you see, drunk richie would make promises of love and future, of happiness and appreciation but sober richie, oh sober richie was quite the opposite. sober richie was eddie’s friend. sober richie slept with anything that moved and didn’t care about how it made eddie feel. sober richie didn’t even look at eddie as more than just his best friend.

the pain bubbled in his stomach at the thought. images of last night and various others flood his mind; his hands tugging at richie’s curls, eddie’s name falling from richie’s lips, a soft bubble of want and need swirling between them.

eddie then remembered how it was after the last time they slept together. how it felt to catch richie coming out of his neighbor’s apartment without a single care in the world. or the ripping of his heart when he danced with guy after girl after guy at the club they went to.

eddie couldn’t take it. since he was 14, since they were in the eighth grade he’d been in love with this idiot yet the two still couldn’t seem to get their act together. staring up at the pale white ceiling, the tears started to fall rapidly. all eddie wanted was richie. to hold and love like his own, instead of catch him at fleeting moments between hookups.

then eddie was angry. how could richie treat him like this? treat him like he wanted to give eddie the world when he had alcohol flowing through his veins, but completely ignoring him when in his right frame of mind. eddie didn’t deserve this. he didn’t deserve to cry himself to sleep each night, mind littered with constant ‘what-ifs’ and silly hopes for the future.

eddie got so angry he couldn’t stand to be around richie. he said out of his dark blue sheets, the tears still falling and picked up all of richie’s clothes off the floor. he gathered them in one hand and with all his strength, hurled them at the sleeping boy.

richie woke up with a start, flinching at the clothes he saw next to him. he looked up at eddie with hooded eyes, heart momentarily skipping a beat. eddie’s somewhat curly hair was messy and adorable, his small frames draped only in richie’s shirt from the night before. richie never told him, but he secretly loved it when eddie wore his clothes.

he almost smiled right then, but suddenly remembered the way he was awakened. richie looked closely at eddie’s face and his eyes widened, taking note at the tear stains down the beautiful boy’s face. “eddie?” richie’s voice was soft and raspy. “what’s wrong?”

“get out.”

richie froze, eyes glazing over. “what?”

“I said get out, richie. get out and never come back.” eddie could feel the words clawing up his throat and he hated the way they tasted.

“eddie- I don’t understand-”

“of course you fucking don’t,” eddie scoffed. “you never get it richie. i’m done with this, I’m done with us.”

“eddie, what are you talking about? what happened? last night was fun, it always is, so why are you upset?” richie had a dangerous feeling he knew where this conversation was going and he didn’t want it. he rounded the bed, now only a couple feet from eddie.

“that’s the problem, richie. it’s always just fun. it’s always just a night. I can’t do this anymore.”

“eddie, baby, listen-”

and then, eddie snapped.

no, you fucking listen, richard! ” eddie screamed, closing the distance between the two. he poked richie’s harshly, causing richie to back up. “you do this to me again and again, and I can’t any more. no more hookups. no more calling me when none of the others will answer the phone. no more spending the night. no more drunken promises that never carry to morning. I’m done, richie.”

richie’s blood ran cold at the words. at the amount of heartache placed beneath them. “eddie- stop. we have something good, don’t ruin it. don’t make us stop-”

“good? tell me richie what’s good about this?” he was chalked full of unbearably heavy thoughts and his heart was on fire. “i’m in love with you, idiot!”

he had never said it sober before, neither or them had, but now it hung in the air around them, painfully loud. richie looked at eddie desperately, begging him to take it back. to say “just kidding!” so that they could go back to what they had before. richie tozier didn’t do love, he couldn’t.

“and I know you don’t love me, rich. or you won’t, whichever one, but I can’t put myself through this anymore. it hurts, richie. seeing you with somebody else feels like my heart is torn out of my chest. I love you, richie tozier, but I won’t destroy myself anymore because if it.”

richie’s throat closed up and his chest constricted painfully. he wanted to say a million and one things, but all he could do was sit and stare heartbroken at the boy in front of him.

he could see the decision set in eddie’s eyes and he hated it. when eddie was sure of something there was no getting around it.

“eddie, please.” eddie nearly lost it at the crack in richie’s voice but didn’t, instead throwing him his keys.

“get out, richie. of my apartment and my life. lose my number.”

richie wanted to yell he wanted to scream that he loved eddie too, but he was scared, so fucking scared of what that means. he wanted to kiss the tears off his face and tell him he needs him, and that all those drunken promises were still valid now. he wanted to say so many things, but he couldn’t.

so instead he grabbed his shoes off the floor, and headed across the apartment to the front door, pausing once more to look at the probable love of his life. eddie looked down, shoulders shaking in seeming agony and richie tozier swears he could hear his heart break at the sight.

“goodbye, eds.”

he closes the door with a soft click, and before his body can comprehend what’s happening he’s crying, sliding down the door slowly.

eddie is on the other side as well, on his apartment floor, grasping the thin fabric he wears with conviction, scent of richie, cigarettes and vanilla, cloud his brain and weary heart as he sobs.

and eddie realizes that this is love. wanting but not obtaining. love is needing someone so severely but realizing that sometimes it can’t always work the way you want it to. love can be kind but love is cruel and selfish, stripping away at the very foundation of your heart. love is fearing your worth will only bring someone down, or fearing you’ll never be what they deserve. love is throwing out the one person who makes you so happy you could burst, but also makes you cry harder than you’ve ever known. love is richie tozier and eddie kaspbrak, on opposite sides of the same door, two halves of a whole heart, sobbing because all the things that could never be.

this is love.

part two here

Too Far

Requested by: Anonymous

Summary: The boys unintentionally hurt the reader’s feelings after making some careless jokes.

Pairing(s): MET x Reader

Warnings: Swearing, a lil bit of angst but ultimately a happy ending (spoilers).

Originally posted by antisepticdark

“What would grandma find disturbing, yet oddly charming?” Mark asked the three of you, waggling his eyebrows in a comical manner.

You scanned your cards before sliding your best into the centre along with Ethan’s and Tyler’s. Kathryn was watching from the sidelines, desperate to get some extra work done, whilst Amy was in bed ill. That just left you and the troublesome trio to record the entire live stream; not that you were complaining, they were your best friends after all.

“Okay,” Mark announced, picking up the cards in front of him. “A big, black dick. Geese. Or…” He trailed off and you suppressed a smirk as you watched his face scrunch into a grin at your card. “Mark’s unquenchable thirst for Jacksepticeye’s delicious asshole.”

The boys roared with laughter and, in turn, you laughed at their reactions. Mark had one hand clutched to his chest as he tried to control his giggles, whilst Ethan was slamming his fists on the table. Even Tyler had one of those rare, toothy smiles on his face as he chuckled alongside them.

“That’s obviously the winner.” Mark managed to get out after his laughing fit, holding up the card for someone to take it.

“Thank you, although it was Mark-luverrr-number-one-xxx that wrote that card.” You declared, plucking the black card from his fingers and adding it to your growing pile of winnings.

“Your turn to pick one, Y/N.” Tyler told you, pushing the cards across to you.

Keep reading