#((*beats myself over the head after forgetting to put this out over and over again*

[tbaluver]

The Love And DeepSpace Men- Boyfriend Headcanons + Scenarios/ Imagines Pt. 2

parings in order: Xavier x Reader, Zayne x Reader, Rafayel x Reader, Sylus x Reader requested: myself bc i craved writing something sweet genre: perhaps tooth rotting fluff fluff warnings: none unless you want cavities a/n: every day i wish they were real and every day i have a lads brain rot and i would gatekeep these ideas but i would never so here ya go ! lmk if i should write more of these ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა enjoy reading ! first part is here if you haven't read it! Pt.1 any likes and reblogs are always appreciated! enjoy!

⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆

Xavier:

The type of boyfriend who will finish your food whenever you can't finish it. He'll let you eat his food even when you say you're not hungry or you don't want anything. If the food he gets isn't something you would want, he'll make sure to buy something for you even if you say you don't want it.

You can expect his hand to always sneak into your lap when you lay in bed together after a long day. Gently embracing your lower stomach and whispering sweet nothings into your ear before you both fall asleep.

If you can't sleep, he'll try to join you for midnight snacks and watch whatever's on TV. He's trying his best to stay awake but you can already see him dozing off, clutching the stuffed plushie you won at the arcade.

Scenario:

You two sat on the soft grass, surrounded by a blanket of stars that painted the dark canvas of the night sky, eagerly waiting for the shooting stars to streak by.

"Xavier do you have anything in mind for what you're going to wish for?"

He turns to you, his gaze softening and a gentle smile spreads across his face. "I don't need to wish for anything else if my wish has already come true- I'm looking right at her."

Zayne:

He keeps all the little trinkets you've given him by his nightstand at home and his desk at work. That way when he wakes up you're the first thing on his mind, not that you left his mind in the first place. Each time he glances at them, he's flooded with happy memories and filled with anticipation to return to your embrace.

The type of boyfriend who puts a blanket over you if you fall asleep on the couch and eventually carries you to your shared bed.

Puts a ridiculous amount of sugar in his coffee that kind of leaves you concerned for your lover's sweet tooth.

Scenario 1:

You two lay in bed together, enjoying the lazy morning, not wanting to get up as if doing so would mean the day truly had to begin. You trace the outlines of his bare chest, your fingers dancing over the area where his heart beats.

“What are you doing?” he asks curiously as he watches you glide your fingers gently around his chest.

“Finding your heart and seeing who lives there,”

He lets out a breathy chuckle, a smile curling on his lips. “No one is there right now.”

You frown at his response, a playful pout forming on your lips. He cups your cheek, finding your reaction to be amusing and adorable. “That’s because the owner of my heart is currently right in front of me.”

Scenario 2:

As Zayne rushes to get ready for an emergency call from the hospital, his glasses are perched on top of your head.

“Zayne, aren’t you forgetting something?” you hinted, leaning in for a goodbye kiss.

“Ah yes, thank you.” He retrieves his glasses and you mock a pout. But he leans down, brushing your lips with his with a sweet kiss, amusement sparkling in his eyes. “I love you. Please don’t stay up waiting for me again.”

Rafayel:

Sometimes he can be your boyfriend but sometimes he's also like your child from how much you baby him

He needs to be close to you at all times. The type of boyfriend who is all over you all the time. He needs to be close and touching you at all times. If you got hot from cuddling, he'll have either his hands or legs over your body because if you were apart for more than a second he thinks he might explode.

The boyfriend who stays up making something special for days and stays up overnight just to make it perfect just for you.

The type of boyfriend who adjusts your do not disturb on your phone so only his notification pops up whenever you're on do not disturb.

Imagine swimming in the ocean, you're enveloped in his embrace as you both gaze at the moonlight and stars above. He holds you close, resting his chin gently on the top of your head while you nestle your hand and head against his chest. It’s perfect like this. Just two of you near his homeland, the sea. Just him and you in your own world where you both find peace with the gentle sounds of the waves surrounding you both.

Sylus:

At the beginning of your relationship he redecorates his entire home so that you'll like it more and feel more inclined to stay over and stay the night at his place.

He only has a soft spot for you and only you. You see a side of him no one else does and not just that but his super silly side.

Sometimes he'll lift you onto the counter or lift you up to get what you need on a high shelf just because he wants to hold you.

The type of boyfriend who gets on his knees or sits down to be on the same level as you when you don't want to look up at him anymore. If he was sitting, he's definitely pulling you to his lap because you're not going to be the only one standing!

The type to hold all of your shopping bags and pure for you when you’re out shopping together. He does not complain about holding your purse at all, not that it would ever bother him in the first place. Also does not complain about holding all of your shopping bags, it’s literally light work for him and he would encourage you to buy more things of whatever you wanted.

Imagine after a long night at an auction, you two stumble back into your shared home not breaking the kiss. Your hands rest on Sylus’s neck, slowly sliding down as he murmurs sweet phrases against your lips. His strong arms wrap around your waist as he carries you bridal style, guiding you both toward your shared bedroom.

[webslingingslasher]

Modelling all the new lingerie you bought for frat Peter and he's absolutely losing his mind

i want to preface that this is absolutly size inclusive, i just went with victoria's secret for the branding but we're gonna pretend they have all the sizes and inclusitivity they should.

warnings: a lil smutty

Peter eyed the pink and black paper bag in your hand, he tried to be understanding but there is nothing in that store that’s for him. You said you had a surprise and you got him something, but here you were standing in front of him with a victoria’s secret bag and a wide smile. 

“If you want me to wear womens panties during sex I need to hear you say it now.” 

You laugh, “no, that’s not… wait, would you?” 

“I’d do anything for you.” 

You roll your eyes, “always dramatic, parker.” 

He would. He’d do anything for you, you just don’t believe him yet. 

“No, I got these for you…” you trail and have a hand go digging, you pull up a lacy red lingerie piece. 

Dead silence, you start to feel insecure. Mandy assured you he’d like it, go feral even. But he’s giving you a blank stare, you want to throw the fabric over the balcony. After a crushing thirty second silence you feel warmth flooding your cheeks, you scramble to put the fabric back in. It’s pointless, you’d never be able to look at it again, let alone the store. 

Peter’s eyes widened watching your panicked movements, he was waiting for more information. He supposes it’s pretty but he really doesn’t think he could fit in it, plus this is a pretty major kink to throw on him at once. 

Refusing to make eye contact you ramble, “this was so stupid, I hate myself.” 

“Hey,” 

“Forget this ever happened, this is so embarrassing I have to leave.” 

“Hey,” louder. 

You bulldozed. 

“In fact, I think we could just end this here, peter. I mean this was obviously weird enough for the both-” 

He’s not going to lose you, “I didn’t say anything!” 

“That’s the point! You aren’t into it, Mandy swore you’d like it but-” 

Peter lets out a sigh, “baby, I mean, is that even my size?” 

You stop speaking and blink, you look at the bag and back at your frat boy. 

He thought it was for him, he actually thought you wanted him to dress up for you. 

“No, you dolt! They’re mine, I just wanted to, I dunno.. model them for you.” 

It felt less embarrassing wallowing in silence. 

“Oh.” 

“Oh!” 

A cocky grin spilled over his face, his hands interlocked behind his head and he leaned back on his bed, you watched his core tighten and flex with the movement. 

Peter licked his lips, “please do. Leave red for last, it’s my favorite color.” 

You’re glad he can’t see your shy smile, “I know.” 

The conformation makes the heat blossom in his chest. 

—-------------

Peter loves how you look, he says it every chance he gets, but knowing you put on a skimpy outfit with the goal being observed made you self conscious in a different way. Peter makes sure to dote on you plenty when he’s taking your clothes off, but those are small glances and kisses, this was you presenting yourself and showing off. 

You ran a hand down your torso as you exhaled heavily, you had to trust Peter. You weren’t sure what was happening between you two, it was a weird midway point. It was like you were dating but the casual touching or labeling was way off beat. 

The bathroom door clicks open and you step out boldly. 

“Ready?” 

Your boy’s head lifted off the bed, the first glance sent him scrambling to hit up. His eyes dragged over your body, everywhere he could see he soaked it in, like he was memorizing each curve of your body. It should make you feel self conscious, but he makes you confident. 

“My beautiful girl, hm?” His hands reach out, you step into his hold and feel him explore. You feel his fingertips race across the black lace of your bra, it’s not covering much, you can feel the heat of his hands through the mesh on your chest. 

You squirm as his tracing tickles you, his thumbs resting at your hips, he can’t stop himself. He lifts up the lace hanging from your front, the baby doll thrown over his head as he presses kisses up and down your torso. You sigh and grab the back of his head, you tangle into the curls and lean into him as his fingers dig into the plush on your waistline to keep you close. 

“So fuckin’ pretty,” batty eyelashes blink up at you, he’s a proud simp and munch. He kisses right above your thong, “how’d I get so lucky?”

His words make your knees weak, he always talks like that, like he’s the most lucky person on the planet to have you in his arms. He acts like you chose him, like you picked the short straw, but you were the lucky one. 

You pat his shoulders and step away, “one out of five?” 

No hesitation, “seven.” 

“Cheat. Don’t go anywhere, I have two more.” 

Peter sputters, “as if you have to tell me?” 

—----------------------

This one was a lot more fitting. 

It was bold, it was a nice hunter green, a bold bra and itty, bitty, crotchless panties. 

It felt like everything but your nipples were out, you’d burn this one if you hadn’t put your foot in your mouth about two more. You tap your foot as you look over yourself in the mirror and shake your head. Peter's seen you naked hundreds of times but you felt more exposed than ever before. 

“Petey?” 

Muffled, “yes, baby?” 

You didn’t know where to go from there, you heard movement, then a little closer to the door. 

“You alright, baby?” 

You let out a puff of air, “it’s a lot.” 

He’s connecting dots, “the outfit?” 

“Yeah.” 

Peter lets out an airy laugh, “I hate to tell you babe, but I’ve seen it all and love it more every time I do.” 

You nibble your lip, you just need a hype man, he could be that easily. 

“I’m like, naked naked.” 

“Perfect.” 

“It’s dark green.” 

A whine, “please let me see!” 

You crack the door open and peek out an eye, you see Peter watching the ground before looking up and smiling wide. You swing it open and spin slowly, his eyes not leaving your lower half. Peter crosses to the doorway and pulls at your hips and throws you on the bathroom counter. 

You gasp and watch his eyes trail down, he catches sight between your legs and you close them self consciously, his hand stops the meeting, then taps at your knee with his thumb for you to open back up for him. He takes his time drawing you in, his throat low and scratchy when he speaks. 

“Oh, oh I like these. I like these a lot.” 

Peter’s thumb races up the side of your thigh before gently tracing around your inner thigh and higher, you jostle as he rubs over the space your crotch should be, you choke on air and hit your head against the mirror, you open your eyes to see his locked on your face, his pupils blended into his eyes. 

He circles again and you grab his wrist to push it away, “I still have to show you the red one.” 

“I already saw it, I’m about to get on my knees and worship you.” 

Your cheeks feel like they're on fire, “let me show you the last one, then you can choose which one you wanna take me in.” 

Peter gives a sharp inhale, “you’re gonna fuckin’ kill me.” 

—-----------------------

A full piece in red, you picked this one out yourself. It screamed Peter, the color, the lace, the style. 

The body had a built in corset, red cinched your waist. The bottom lapels had straps that connected to your thigh belts, this time a cheeky pair of underwear. It contrasted the harsh sex of the bodice, a peek of bum that led more to the imagination, just like your chest being pushed up from the corset. 

It was both the most dressed and undressed you’ve been all evening. The other’s were more uncovered but this one made you feel hot and powerful and confident. 

You didn’t need any help with this one. 

“This gotta be your favorite, right?” 

Peter felt time stop, he was absolutely speechless. He’s never seen you so.. so… gorgeous. A cocky grin, one that told him you knew how good you looked. And he doesn’t care what anyone has to say, his girl wearing his favorite color in lingerie was the down right sexiest thing he’s ever seen. 

His silence doesn’t scare you, it makes you fill with pride. 

“Yeah… that’s the one.” 

You stalked to the end of the bed where he sat, his fingers tugging at your thigh buckles. 

“I’ve never had a girl dress up for me like this.” A delicate confession, while his fingers and hands fondled over your backside and thighs. 

You shrug and run your hand through his hair, “you make me want to dress up for you.” 

Peter pulls at you to straddle his waist, “I’ll never stop being grateful.” 

“Is this the winner? You can take it off whenever.” 

Peter runs his tongue over his teeth, “I kinda just like looking at you right now.” 

The black piece was lust. 

The green piece was passion. 

The red piece was love. 

Three things are very clear to Peter Parker in that moment. 

One, he wasn’t sure when, but you were going to be his girlfriend. 

Two, he’s almost eighty percent sure he loves you. 

Three, this is the hardest he’s been in his entire life. 

[inbabylontheywept]

Realizing in hindsight that the only reason I was so skeptical about your camp story is that being covered in a combination of crusty, sticky pink residue and rotten fish oil for days on end while sleeping on a wooden floor in the Arizona heat sounded like such unbearable sensory agony that I wanted to convince myself it was fake, because I didn't want to believe that anybody had genuinely been through that. I'd have walked out of that place with a rucksack of pink ooze and either find my way back to civilization or become crispy pink buzzard chow after day 2.

Like, legitimately, I think about my reaction to that post a lot. The imagery was so deeply unpleasant that I was desperately scrambling to convince myself it wasn't true like I'd just found out my spouse was a serial killer. There was no torture, no death, no hunger or disease, just a bunch of sweaty guys being covered in sticky fruit-flavored slime, subjected to unpleasant smells, and sleeping blanketless on the floor. And you can't even smell! You were spared a good third of it! Yet your experience still horrified me worse than any war story, medieval torture device or horror movie for reasons I cannot hope to fathom.

idk, I've had this ask stewing in my head for months, but I keep forgetting to actually write and send it. In my heart of hearts, I knew your story was perfectly plausible. I was just grasping at straws, praying for you to admit that no, nobody has ever showered in off-brand Gatorade and then not slept for 3 days while being expected to attend uni lectures. It's all untrue, a ruse, a trick, and such things could never happen outside of the cruelest depths of hell. Santa Claus is real, teachers live in the school, babies are delivered by storks, and the pink sauce incident never happened.

My mom pulls me into a warm hug after I scrape my knee. The plastic egg I found under the couch opens to reveal a piece of chocolate. A dollar magically appears under the pillow where I'd put my tooth. All is well. I am safe. The universe is kind, and whoever's running it loves me.

It's a sunny August day and I'm holding a popsicle on the swingset. I'm using my plastic dinosaurs to act out an improvised battle between good guys and bad guys as I sit on the carpeted floor. I'm playing Fossil Fighters on my dinged-up Nintendo DS in the plush brown armchair by the window.

I add the carrot nose to my snowman. Candy plops into my Halloween bag. The speaker on the classroom wall announces that school's out for summer, and we all bound out the door with wild glee, free at last.

Panting, wheezing, I drag my battered form back into the cobbled-together wreckage of my innocence, only one arm remaining with which to drag myself, blood and intestines trailing behind me as the storm rages overhead, washing my entrails downstream. I huddle underneath what remains of my once-pristine shelter from the cold and wet, pulling the shards back together as best I can as the wind howls angrily, hatefully. It's no use. It's broken. It's gone. It cannot be repaired. My innocence will never return to me. The rain seeps through the cracks and lands upon my face.

The rain is pink, I realize, and I cry.

First off: I haven’t actually been on the receiving end of this before and I have to say, it's an almost literally gripping experience. I felt this rat for the last three paragraphs.

Incredibly well done. Second: If you just didnt' want to believe, that's fine, I barely have room in me for medium fries - a grudge would just pour out the top, too much tea for my cup. But you don't have to like, gaslight yourself into thinking the story is totally normal and believable (I always stretch my stories out a little) or beat yourself up over it for months. I meant it when I said we're good, you and I. It still makes me happy to see a comment or a like or, rarely, a question like this from you.

If it's just something that pops into your mind every now and again, I dunno, don't sweat it. I'd hate to give you a complex. Did I mention that I loved that writing for this? Incredible experience.

[ocinstar]

Cat nap

Peter parker x fem!reader

Summary: after a long mission, you end up falling asleep on the shoulder of a certain spider boy.

Cw: blurb, fluff

A/n: I've been struggling with such bad writers block, so here's a blurb i managed to write. (Sorry if its not the best 😭)

Wc: 616

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───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Peter and I groaned in unison as we sat down on the jet. We sat there in complete silence, both our bodies aching after the 2 hour long mission we had just had. As the jet rose off the ground and took off, I felt my eyes grow tired.

"I never wanna stand again." I leaned back against the wall and blew the strand of hair that had fallen on my face away. All I got from peter in response was a weak groan of agreement. He leaned back with a huff, rolling his head to look at me.

"Do you think Mr. Stark will let me nap on his couch?" I turned my head to him.

"If he doesn't I'll put fart spray in his helmet." He gave me a tired chuckle. His loopy smile, tired eyes and messed up hair almost made me forget the aching pain across my whole body. Peter had a talent for making me feel better, or making me forget what there was to feel better about.

We both turn our heads forward, falling into a comfortable silence. The heat radiating from peter onto my arm and the quiet hum of the jet had my eyes feeling heavy. I found myself struggling to keep my head from tilting, slowly falling towards peter. I fought to stay awake, but soon enough my eyes closed and sleep overtook me.

~~~

I let out a surprise gasp as i felt something hit my shoulder. I glanced over, feeling my heart start to race upon seeing a sleeping y/n. Her face was serine, calm breathing and a few strands of hair tickled her cheeks.

I felt my face heat up, turning a light shade of pink. I could hardly believe this was reality, that she was really asleep on my shoulder. My shoulder! The girl of my dreams, my long term crush, was now peacefully sleeping on me. I know she didn't mean to, that it was an accident, but yet that didn't stop the nervous smile creep up on my face.

I did my beat to stay perfectly still, doing my best not to wake her. She shifted her head slightly, causing more hair to fall on her face. Her nose twitched, insinuating the hairs were tickling her. I cautiously moved my hand to move from her face and tuck it behind her ear. She hummed lightly, a sound that made me weirdly happy.

I didn't move a muscle as she continued to nap peacefully on my shoulder. She stayed there for the entire ride home. Bucky and sam took notice of my situation and naturally teased me about it, making jokes and jabs for the other half of the ride.

It pained me when we landed, since that meant i had to wake her up. I contemplated not waking her, staying on the jet till she woke up on her own. But i assumed she'd want to sleep in her comfortable bed rather then my hard shoulder. So I called to her softly and shook my shoulder lightly. I watched as her eyes fluttered open, her gorgeous eyes now revealed.

"Hey there sleeping beauty." I joked softly. She looked ul at me, her eyes still hooded and half asleep. She gave me a tired, loopy smile and sat up.

"Um, sorry for passing out on you." Her cheeks darkened, an embarrassing tint linger on them.

"It's ok, you needed some sleep."

"Well, thanks." We both stared at each other awkwardly, neither of us knowing what to to next.

"Do you wanna watch a movie or something?" She asked, looking away. I nodded and we both stood, walking off to enjoy our night.

[echobx]

hear me out: rafe with inexperienced reader showing her how to touch herself

-🪩

Teachings - Rafe Cameron × fem!inexperienced!reader

warnings: fluffy, fingering

word count: 1.1k

author's note: I love this idea so much. I hope you like what I did with it.

“And this is my room,” you say while slowly opening the door. Rafe lets go of your hand and walks inside, leaving you standing with the closed door behind your back.

You watch him as he paces around the small room, fingers tracing the edge of your desk, running along the spines of the books on your shelf. He stops and looks down at your bed, more specifically the old Monster Inc. bedding that you had put on last because you felt nostalgic, and he chuckles.

“I don't usually-” you try to explain yourself out of your light embarrassment, but he stops you with a single glance.

“You don't have to explain yourself to me, darling. This is your home. It's very important that you are comfortable in your own home.” With every other word he takes a step closer until his arms embrace you, and he pulls you flush to his chest.

Your cheeks flush as you look up at him, trying to control your breathing and not pass out over how fast your heart is beating as soon as he gets closer to you.

“There's nothing you should feel embarrassed about when it comes to me, ever,” Rafe whispers in a husky voice that sends shivers down your spine in the most comfortable way you had ever felt.

“Okay,” you whisper and when he kisses you, you forget all about the tiny bit of anxiety that was still pooling in your guts. He leads you back to your bed, never breaking the kiss and falling down on it with you.

You like making out with Rafe, but he's never before been this needy over it. His hands are groping at your boobs and although it feels nice, you're still a tiny bit scared. Or more like, stuck in your head, because you haven't yet told him that you don't know anything, that you have never had the opportunity to do anything before he came along.

“God, you're gorgeous,” he rasps while pulling your top down and freeing your tits to suck on them. You moan at his affections, unsure why exactly it feels so amazing to have his lips around your nipple, sucking and almost biting you.

“Rafe?” you manage to break out, and he stops to look at you.

“Somethin’ wrong, sugar?” he asks, seemingly drunk on none other than you.

“I have to tell you something,” you whisper, and he sits up and pulls you with him, leaning back against the headboard and caressing your cheek.

“I- I, uhm…, I've never had a boyfriend before,” you start slowly and he nods. “I've never- I don't- I'm scared,” you whisper and he smiles softly.

“There's nothing to be scared of, baby. I'll show you anything you wanna know. I can be patient for you if you need me to,” he assures you, and you nod.

“Thank you.”

“Is there anything you wanna do now? Or just go back to what we were doing?” Rafe asks and you take a second to think.

“Can you show me how to, uhm, how to help myself out?” you ask tentatively, not even wanting to use the actual words for it.

“You want me to show you how to pleasure yourself?” he asks more clearly, but still not as vulgar as you expected.

“Yes. Could you?” You look at him with your best puppy eyes, but he had already caved long before you even asked.

Rafe starts kissing you again, pulling at your shirt until you take it in your hands and pull it over your head. Just a moment later, he starts fumbling with your jeans, opening button after button and slipping his hand between your legs. You squirm when you feel his fingers dig into your clothed pussy.

“You're so wet for me, baby,” he rasps into your ear, biting your earlobe and abruptly pulling himself away from you. Tugging your jeans off of you rather harshly and kissing your stomach. “I'm taking this off too,” he announces and slides your panties down your legs in a swift motion.

Straddling him is easy, you've done so a thousand times. Having your own hand pressed against your cunt, isn't as much.

“It's all good, baby. Let me,” he says soothingly, and you let go of your own hand, leaving him to use it however he likes.

“Let's start here.” Rafe moves your hand up, letting your fingertips stay on a spot that feels overly sensitive. “You're gonna draw some sweet circles here, maybe even flick it if it feels right,” he instructs, and you do as he says.

“Oh god!” you yelp and pull your hand away at the shockwave of intense pleasure that nearly knocked you over.

“Keep going, darling,” Rafe whispers and kisses you slowly. You return the kiss, feeling like your world is being turned upside down while your fingertips are still attached to your clit. You can't believe that it takes so little to make yourself a moaning mess, and Rafe can't fully grasp it either.

“You're doing so good for me, sweetheart,” he muses and runs his fingers between your folds, having you jump a little when he slightly pushes into you.

“Give me your hand,” he demands, and you take it up from your clit, just for him to pull it back down. He takes your middle finger and pushes it into you. You gasp at the sudden intrusion.

“How's it feel?” Rafe cradles your cheek in his free hand and you sigh.

“Warm. Good. Soft,” you babble and he smiles proudly.

“Look at me, baby,” he whispers, and you open your eyes again, your heart beating out of your chest. “I want you to do this,” he says and shows you how to curl your finger and once you mirror the motion inside your cunt, you gasp and moan even louder than before.

“God, Rafe,” you cry out as he starts sucking on your tits again.

“Just keep doing that baby,” he mumbles against your hot skin while his hand that had just been guiding you was drawing harsh circles on your clit.

“You feel that? Feels good, doesn't it?” he smirks, and you nod, biting your lip, trying to stay a bit quieter.

“It's so much, Rafe, I can't keep going,” you whine, and he kisses you, gently placing a dozen loving kisses on your lips.

“You can let go now, baby. I'm here,” he breathes against your lips. And when you let go of the unbearable tension that has built inside your stomach, you feel a million times better than you have ever had before.

Rafe pulls your hand from your pussy and, to your surprise, he starts sucking off your finger, humming around it. “Good God, you taste so sweet, baby. Can't wait to eat you out.”

please don't copy and/or post my work onto other platforms! ~e©ho

taglist: @ijustwantttoread @spideysimpossiblegirl @redhead1180 @princessmaybank @kys4-20 @drwstarkeyy @immyowndefender @julczimozart

[mysslyssblog]

Older Dipper Pines x Reader (15-16)

Warnings: she / her pronouns used, reader is described as feminine.

I didn’t know what to title this so the title is goofy 😭

————————————————————————

the boy from the bus stop ~ D.P.

I sigh as i stare outside of the bus window. I’ve already been on this bus for an hour and I still have 2 hours to go. My phone is almost dead and I have nothing else to do. My parents are making me go to my great aunt Susan’s house for the summer. She’s a lovely woman and I definitely won’t mind living with her for the summer, and I’m honestly happy to get out of my house for a bit. My parents are going through a messy divorce and I really don’t want to have to see any more of it.

I rummage through my bag to see if I brought anything to keep me occupied. I see a book that I must’ve shoved in there a while back. I pull it out. The Hunger Games. Good enough.

I begin reading, completely lost in the book.

•Dipper’s POV•

I stand at the bus stop as I double check my bags to make sure I have everything before getting on the bus. “Chill out Dip, I’m sure you have everything.” I hear my sister, Mabel, say from the bench behind me. “I just don’t want to forget anything.” I respond. Suddenly, I hear the tired tires of the bus screech to a stop. “C’mon Mabel,” I say before grabbing all my bags and stepping into the bus.

I look around. Only a few people on the bus, as usual. There’s an old couple that Mabel and I are familiar with considering we’re always on the bus going from California to Gravity Falls. My eyes land on a h/c head of hair I’m not familiar with. Mabel shoves me forward. I roll my eyes and move to the back of the bus where we always sit. It’s also where the girl happens to be sitting. As I walk pass her seat I see her deep in a book.

Mabel shoves me again, causing me to fall forward. I quickly recover. The girl looks up at me with a surprised expression. She’s.. beautiful. She smiles at me and I can’t stop staring. Her expression turns to an uncomfortable one, and I realize I’ve been staring for too long. My face heats and I quickly move the the last row of seats, throwing myself down and putting my head in my hands. Mabel plops right next to me. “What the heck was that?” She asks, amused. “I don’t know Mabel, just don’t talk about it.”

“Do you think she’s pretty?”

“Mabel, I don’t want to talk about it.”

“What if she’s going to Gravity Falls too?”

“Mabel..”

“Dipper! Go talk to her!”

“Absolutely not!” I say, snapping my head in her direction. “I think we found your future GIRLFRIEND!” I slap my hand over her mouth. I look over to the girl and see she’s still reading. I let out a sigh of relief. I rip my hand away from Mabel’s mouth. “Did you just lick my hand?” I ask. “Yep!” She says.

•Your POV •

“Gravity Falls!” I hear the bus driver shout. I place my bookmark in my book at gather up all my things. Just as I stand up I feel a body collide into mine. Luckily I was able to catch myself. I quickly turn around and see the boy who was staring at me the whole bus ride. He turns to face, I assume his sister. “Mabel!” He says. “I-I’m really sorry, my sister pushed me.” He sputters out.

I can’t help but laugh at his disheveled expression. “No worries.” I say, still laughing. A smile creeps on his lips but he’s still beat read and sweating. I turn back around and walk off the bus, the siblings following after me.

I begin to walk off until I hear the girl say something. “Dipper don’t let your girlfriend leave-“ I turn around and see the boy covering her mouth with his hand. He looks at me with wide eyes. I stifle a laugh and give him a small wave before walking to my aunt’s house.

•The Next Day•

I hum to myself as I walk to the diner my aunt works at. She said once I wake up she’ll make me breakfast.

I walk in and scan the diner for an empty seat. I see an interesting array of people. There’s two cops sitting at the bar, one of the shoving pancakes in his mouth while the other records it. I see a giant red headed lumberjack with who I assume is his daughter. She looks around my age, maybe I should talk to her sometime.

I spot an empty seat in the corner and quickly sit down. “Hey there sweetie.” My aunt says, handing me a menu. “Hey Susan!” I say with a smile. “You let me know when you’re ready to order.” She says, pinching my cheek before walking off. “Ow..” I say, rubbing my cheek.

I scan the menu. There’s many options. Pancakes, waffles, sausages- “MY BROTHER THINKS YOU’RE CUTE!” My thoughts get interrupted when a girl jumps in my seat. I jump and look up. It’s the girl from the bus stop. The boy from the bus stop runs over and drags his sister away, cursing to her as he pulls her out of the diner.

I watch with wide eyes. It was like watching a crime scene. I was just about to look back at the menu until the boy walks back in, sweatier than ever. He quickly walks over to my booth before sitting down in front of me.

“I’m really sorry about her, she doesn’t have any social awareness.” He says without making eye contact with me. I giggle. “It’s okay, I love her boldness. What was it she said? Someone thinks I’m cute?” I tease. He interrupts me with a cough. “I think what she was trying to say is that her brother, me, wants to be friends with you.” He says with a nervous smile. “Friends, huh?” I ask. He quickly nods. “That sounds like a good idea.” I say. His expression turns to one as shock as he quickly fixes his posture. “Really?” He asks. “Yep. And since we’re friends now, would you and your sister like to eat breakfast with me and then show me around?” I ask.

A big smile forms on his face. “Of course! I mean.. yeah, yeah, sounds cool.” He says, sitting back trying to seem cool. I giggle again. This’ll be an interesting summer for sure.

————————————————————————

I can honestly see this turning into a series but I’ve never written one before and I would probably rewrite this one to set it up better. Lmk if you want a series! Also please send requests if you have any for Gravity Falls! I will definitely get to it quickly! Thank you guys!

[merthosus]

Drunk dying virgins

Summary: The apocalypse is coming. Again… Five and his siblings tried everything to stop it. But it was hopeless, a small drop in the vast ocean. The last night dawned and Luther's wedding was over, Five lay leaning against the wall in the middle of the hotel corridor. Y/n's stumble across the flower-embroidered carpet begins a surprisingly ending conversation.

Here a sexy poster from Five I fell in love with! With every purchase you automatically support me :) https://amzn.to/3yGK6Fm

"You're not such a positive drinker huh?"

I grab the door frame of the gleaming white and ornate dance hall of the Hotel Oblivion. Luther's wedding was my first and also my last wedding. Sad, but in the end I didn't care. Because my rational thinking was being suppressed by a few martinis. I hadn't actually intended to get drunk, but I was somehow pulled along by the others. Klaus topped me up several times without me even noticing. We all danced together and Klaus sang karaoke with me, which in hindsight was perhaps not such a good idea after all. But we were all able to forget for an evening that the world was falling apart around us.

It felt like the hallway was trying to swallow me up. I frantically searched for my door number 187. The hotel was so damn confusing, each floor was like identical twins. It's impossible not to get lost here and with five martini's and a couple of Aperol Spritz's this really was an impossible mission for me to complete. When the elevator stopped with a loud ping on the fifth floor, I gave up and stumbled into the hallway. I got caught on the carpet of flowers that stretched across the corridor, but caught myself before my face could land on the floor. Suddenly I heard the sound of glass hitting the floor and I held still. "Hello?" I whispered, which was pretty stupid, but I didn't really care in my drunken state. I walked slowly down the hallway, in the direction of the noise. Every little creak of the wooden floor beneath me felt like the loudest thunderclap in heaven. My heart began to beat normally again, no longer thundering against my ribcage like it was trying to jump out as I peered around the corner.

It was Five who had made the noise with a bottle in front of him. He was in some kind of half-sleep or full sleep? I didn't quite know myself and I don't think he did either. His body was lying limply against the wall, it looked as if he had slipped into the corner and not come back up. His tie hung askew at his neck and his shirt was loose on his body. The blazer he was still wearing at the wedding was probably in another hallway. It looked peaceful, I didn't know him like this, his forehead wasn't decorated with the usual sour crease and his usually talkative mouth hung slightly open. "Five?" his slightly closed eyes popped open as if he had seen something dangerous.

He looked as if he wanted to say something but the words stuck in his throat. "Have you swallowed your words?" I asked with somewhat drawn-out words. He tried to straighten up a little and pushed himself off the floor. "Seems like you caught one too many meddles too huh?", I ask as I sit down next to him. "Maybe," he mumbles to himself. His hair, usually so tightly done, was now a mess and lacked shine. "Your shoelace is untied," I remark. He turns his head towards me and looks deep into my eyes. "Who cares about that anymore? The world is coming to an end and we're all going to die," he grumbled to himself. I smiled at him and nudged him on the shoulder.

"You're not such a positive drinker huh?", I ask him playfully. Five puts his head back on his neck. "I usually am, but what else is positive? I'm going to die, alone, a virgin," he mutters. I look at him in surprise. I wasn't prepared for his honesty. "We… we're going to die alone and as virgins," I say to defuse the situation. He lets his head, which has fallen to the floor, shoot up at once. "You? You virgin?" he asks me. I don't know whether he means that positively or negatively. But his eyes radiate disbelief. "What's that supposed to mean?" I ask him, playfully holding my hand to my chest. I elicit a smile from five. I haven't seen that for a long time.

"It's just relatively incredulous, you have everything a man could want," he says. The mood changes abruptly, everything feels so oppressive. I let him swallow the silence. "Your eyes are so beautiful, I could lose myself in them for hours. Falling asleep next to you every night and falling asleep to the sight of you is the most beautiful thing I can imagine.But unfortunately, that's impossible now…' he talks to himself, while I fall into a state of shock. "Your lips look so seductive, every second that I look at them but am not allowed to touch them, I lose a piece of myself," he whispers into the silence. I am speechless, for the first time in all these years his words have silenced me.

"Five, why are you saying that now?" I ask as I try to hold back my tears. Five looked at me again, I realized it was hard for him. His words were so penetrating that not even the alcohol could hold them back. "The world is coming to an end, we're all going to die, the first time I saw you I had to stop myself from telling you how I felt. I could now fill books with all the sentences you've evoked in me," he says. I swallow. His perfume reaches my nose. A mixture of alcohol and woody smoke. He pulls himself up and puts his hand on my cheek. I flinched from the sudden movement.

But my hot skin quickly got used to his cold fingers. He looks at me through his slightly closed eyes. "You asshole," I say as a tear runs down my cheek. Five's eyes widen, searching my face for an answer to the question I haven't yet asked. "W…what?" he asks fearfully. His eyes reflect his uncertainty, darting around my face. "You tell me something like that the day before the world ends?" I ask, still in disbelief. Five's thumb brushes along my cheek, an insufficient attempt to wipe away my tears.

Second part?

[aniesvision]

𝘯𝘢𝘬𝘦𝘥 (𝘊𝘩𝘳𝘪𝘴 𝘚𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘰𝘭𝘰 𝘹 𝘧! 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳)

warnings: suggestive, implied sex, that's all I guess (tell me if I'm missing something)

a/n: hi! I'm posting this again because I wanted a new account just to post my fics and not just another blog with my main account (I don't know how to explain it but yeah) also, english is NOT my first language so if anything's wrong please correct me!!

synopsis: Chris accidentally sees his best friend naked.

🪻🪻🪻

One thing I hate about getting ready at the Sturniolo's house is how bad they are in keeping things organized. And I don't mean clothes or anything like that, I mean they just don't say what they're gonna do next and that leads to me being naked on Chris's bathroom without knowing that he has no idea that I am here.

And, of course, he just opened the door.

-Shit, I'm sorry. -He apologizes, quickly closing the door and leaving me alone, paralyzed and speechless.

I close my eyes, trying to forget the embarrassing moment, putting on my outfit. It takes me a few minutes to get over it and finally leave the bathroom, the sound of the door being opened making Chris look up at me.

His cheeks were red, and probably so were mine. My first action was to adjust my skirt and giggle out of nervousness, my eyes now glued to my shoes.

-You can use the bathroom now. -I say, cutting the silence.

He just nods, making his way to his bathroom and locking himself inside. I sigh, annoyed with the situation, making my way to Nick's room to do my makeup and finish the final touches.

After making sure I was ready, I decided on waiting for them on the living room. We have a birthday party to attend, all of us being friends with the person for a long time, witch is why we decided on getting ready and going together.

I was mindlessly scrolling through TikTok when I feel someone sitting next to me. I look to my side, seeing a guilty Chris.

-I'm really sorry for earlier. -He runs a hand through his hair nervously and I give him a small understanding smile.

Even though I was nervous and embarrassed too, I didn't want to make things weirder, and it was so fast he'll probably forget about it by tomorrow anyways.

-It's fine. -I breath out, turning my head back to my phone.

We stay a few more seconds in silence, my brain just now processing that one of my closest friends saw me naked, and I couldn't help myself from joking about it.

-Hey, at least you've finally got the chance to see a girl naked, right? -I tease, nudging his shoulder playfully.

Chris rolls his eyes with a smirk on his lips, my laughter making him laugh as well.

-Shut up, whatever. -He mumbles, resting his head on the headboard of the couch.

Nick and Matt finally got ready and we all get into the car, hearing Chris yap all the way to the party. It doesn't take long for us to get there, and it was even faster for us to separate and move different ways. I walk to the bar, ordering a drink and taking a few sips before exploring the party.

I find my friends after a while, sticking with them and hearing them gossip about random people. When I feel the alcohol kicking in and making me less shy, I drag them to the dance floor with me, moving my body along the beat.

Unfortunately, I didn't have much time to enjoy it, since I've been dragged out of the saloon where the party was happening and trapped by a wall nearby, my eyes slowly recognizing Chris.

-What the fuck, I almost had a heart attack. -I raise one hand to my chest, taking deep breaths and looking around, confused on why we were here and why he wasn't saying anything at all.

-Okay, are you gonna explain or...? -I ask, looking at him.

He looked like he was fighting a battle in his head, not knowing exactly what to say, probably dragging me here with him by some sort of impulse.

-I... I don't know, I just... -He shakes his head, taking one step back.

-Are you okay? -I ask, tilting my head slightly, trying to figure out what was happening.

-I'm fine, I just... I think... -He hesitates, sighning and looking around nervously before making eye contact again. -You look pretty.

I furrow my eyebrows in confusion, giggling with his random compliment.

-Thanks, you look good too. -I smile, messing with his hair a little bit.

-No, I mean, I think you're really pretty. -He tries to explain, but it only makes me even more confused.

Chris notices my confusion and he starts tapping his feet rapidly, a bit anxious with what he was going to confess.

-I mean, I think your body looks great. -He says, making me laugh.

-Oh, so you think I'm hot? -I tease, his cheeks blushing.

-Alright, yeah, sure, you're hot.

We stay in silence for a few seconds, my smile never dropping as I studied him.

-You dragged me out of the party just to say that you think I'm hot? -I ask, crossing my arms over my chest, the cool breeze making me shiver.

-Not exactly. -He steps closer again, gently rubbing his hands up and down my arms to keep me warm.

-What else then? -I ask, seeing a small smirk on his lips.

-I think I want to kiss you. -He whispers, his eyes immediately dropping to my lips.

-What's stopping you from doing it? -I wrap my arms around his neck, his hands moving to my waist and squeezing it lightly.

-I don't want you to think I only want this because of what happened. I've been craving to kiss you for so long.

His words caught me by surprise, I've never noticed he wanted to kiss me. My only response was pulling him closer, showing him it was alright to do it. And he did. Our lips meet in a sweet kiss, that turns quickly into a heated and passionate one. His hands exploring my sides before stopping by my ass and squeezing it.

We were now just fully making out, but sadly we heard the door cracking open, making us separate. It wasn't the best place or moment to even think about anything that happened, so we walk into the party again.

Me and Chris didn't stop flirting with each other all night, but we didn't want to tell anyone about it, so it stayed in between us.

And now, a few months later, it's still our secret, but since that night we do a lot more than just kissing.

[normansnt]

The prince pt.4

For @skyxqueen8 (:

Sorry it might be a bit short sorry for that but I think its good lemme know how you like it also SORRY FOR THE LONG WAIT IMMA TRY AND BE FASTER🫡

Warnings: reader gets beaten up, mentions of Alastor torturing

"Alastor I'll be fine, I truly don't want to bother you I see you're busy."

You tried your best to convince Alastor to let you go out alone. Now, usually he would, of course he knew how powerful you were you are the prince of hell after all, the fact that you don't like to use your powers doesn't hinder you much you use them when you're in danger.

But there have been headlines about you two dating. Vox's doing no doubt, and with the amount of people that Alastor managed to piss off during his years in hell it's really not safe for you out there.

"My dear, how could I ever be busy for you?" He asked baffled as he took a hold of your hand to stop you from leaving.

You turned around and gave him a quick kiss on his lips.

"My love, I will be just fine I can handle myself. I know the news has been full with us dating but to be fair that puts you in more danger than me, who wouldn't want to hold the kings son's lover for ransom?"

You argued back.

And you had a point, Alastor thought.

"Very well then, dear, however do not forget your radio remember you just turn it on and I shall be there as quick as possible."

You kissed him again and then smiled.

"Yes, I know"

He got you a pocket radio when he first saw the news. So whenever you need him you can just turn it to the channel you knew is his and hell be there in a second (idk lets just pretend).

You really weren't going out for anything special, you just wanted to get coffee with your dad like you do every week.

But the people who Alastor has pissed off didn't care much about where you were going they just wanted to make the fucker pay for what he has done. These were the sharks that Mimzy screwed over and Alastor had to clean her mess up. However during that clean up he kinda ate the boss's son and the boss was not please.

You could take on some annoying sharks really, but they attacked sudden. From the dark. While you were listening to music. So there really wasn't much you could do.

They showed you into an alley and started to beat you up with all sorts of junk they could find. You tried to reach the radio but when they showed you to the ground it broke.

This was when you decided to not play the part of helpless little prince waiting for his knight and used your powers to at least scare them away from you, you didn't have strength left to do anything else.

When you stood up, painfully, you reached for the pocket radio Alastor gave you, at least, for the parts of it.

"Fucking assholes" you liked that radio, you listened to Alastors podcast on it.

You knew you couldn't go see your dad in the state you were in you'd just worry him so you headed back home.

It was a hard journey with all the pain you were in but you managed.

You knew Alastor had things to do so you hoped he wouldn't be home. You didn't want to worry him.

"And who, pray tell, hurt my gorgeous little deer in such ways?" You heard the voice of your boyfriend from behind you as you entered your shared quarters.

"AHH, Fuck, Alastor I-I thought you wouldn't be-"

"Answer the question, please"

His voice was different. And as he exited from the shadows you saw that his voice was not the only thing different.

He wasn't smiling. He had a collected expression on his face, a terrifying calmness. You knew it wasn't directed at you.

He walked over to you and put his hand on your bloody cheek. He stroked your cheek with his thumb while you nestled into the warmness of his palm.

"You know those, sharks, that came here after Mimzy?" You asked him. His thumb stopped.

"Mimzy?" His voice was overly static barely audible.

"No, its not her-"

"I will be back soon" he said still overly static. And with that he left, not without leaving his shadow with you to patch you up.

"Shit" you mumbled. You wondered if you should have said anything.

Alastor's shadow made you sit down, and started tending to your wounds.

-------------------------------------------------

You woke up at 3 am to the ruckus of Alastor coming into you guys's room.

"Alastor" you whispered.

He was bloody all over as he halted on his way to the bathroom.

"Why are you up, darling?" He asked.

You could hear the exhaustion in his voice.

"What happened."

"Ah-ah-ah dear, I asked the question first." He tried to make the situation lighter.

"Its hard to sleep when your boyfriend is out hell knows where or doing what." You answered with just a hint of anger in your voice.

You took a breath and sighed.

"Your turn"

"Well...dear I don't think you wish to hear the details I know you are not particularly fond of violence, lets just say, I have plenty of new voices for my broadcast, these are going to be longer sessions however, these filths are getting the extra special treatment."

He answered slowly, trying not to anger you further.

You were trying to keep up the strong facade but you just ended your falling into his arms mumbling how worried you were. He hugged you back tightly, holding you to his body.

"I'm sorry, my darling, no harm shall ever befall you under my eye again." He mumbled into your hair.

-------------------------------------------------

In the following weeks all everyone could talk about was how the sessions on radio demons podcast have gotten hours long, just screams for hours, this has never happened someone must have really pissed him off. From then on, Alastor stayed true to his word, no one dared to lay a finger on you.

[ghost-proofbaby]

SO SCARLET (IT WAS MAROON)

CHAPTER THREE: ALL TOO WELL

AND I KNOW IT'S LONG GONE AND THERE WAS NOTHING ELSE I COULD DO, AND I FORGET ABOUT YOU LONG ENOUGH TO FORGET WHY I NEEDED TO.

☆ pairings: rockstar!eddie munson x fem!reader

☆ warnings: no use of y/n, strong language, angst, description of panic attack, minors dni

☆ WC: 5.7K+

☆ A/N: it'll be a short fic, i said. short and sweet and simple, i lied to myself.

thank you to my love @hellfire--cult for the divider!

masterlist

The moment your name leaves his lips, you swear the world halts on its rotation. 

This was real. Every fear and every anxiety you had wrestled with over the last twenty four hours wasn’t for naught – he was here, sitting before you, breathing your name out like a sigh of relief when all you felt was pain. Stabbing, radiating pain. It’s even worse than looking at pictures and headlines of a stranger on a phone screen. Something about him suddenly being tangible, suddenly being real, sends you reeling. 

Lydia looks wildly between your showdown with the ghost of a man before you, “I’m sorry… Do you two- do you know each other?”

Not anymore.

“I-” you choke on your stutter. You’re frozen under his stare, going ashen as your head spins. Leave the room. Think of an excuse, get out of this room, run away. “I have to go to the bathroom.”

It’s the world’s most pathetic excuse, but the only thing you can spit out before you’re turning heel and running, just as your body had so desperately craved. You nearly bump into one of the security guards you’d just bravely had a confrontation with. 

They’d demanded your phone, you had put up a fight. You had stood your ground. Had held your chin high, dared them to push further even once they had your cell phone in their grasp, and displayed all that self-assuredness you had curated in the last two years. Only to end up scampering past them like a wounded animal mere seconds later.

Pathetic.

Lydia calls out something after you, but it reaches deaf ears as you blaze down the hallway. Your chest is squeezing, as if someone had wrapped it in shrink-wrap and sucked all of the air right out of it, swathed so tightly you could feel every pounding beat of your pulse racing. Your eyesight completely blurs, not quite from tears but rather a mere loss of focus. You nearly knock over one of the god forsaken fake plants Lydia insists as a primary form of decor, hardly being within the right mind to reach out and right the oversized bush of green plastic. 

But you don’t have to. Right as your back collides with the wall off to the side of the plant, breathing only coming in short and miserable pants, a different hand reaches out to catch the plant. A ringed hand. 

When Eddie says your name again, it’s not a sigh. It’s laced with panic as you support your full weight against white plaster and stare at where knuckles wrap around faux wooden stems. 

“Hey,” he stresses, hand leaving your line of sight as he puts a large palm on each of your shoulders. You can’t look at him, not yet, “Hey, can you breathe for me? C’mon, big breaths.” 

This close, you can smell the cologne. It’s not even the same woodsy drugstore scent that had lingered on the pillowcases he’d left you to cling to while on tour. Even that, something so miniscule as what cologne he now wore, had changed. And the new and unfamiliar scent chokes you, turns your desperate gasps for air even more futile. 

You had walked out of that apartment two years ago, without any intention of ever being this close to him again. You’d sworn to yourself you’d never be this close again. 

“You’re having a panic attack,” he squeezes your shoulders within his hold ever so slightly, as if attempting to ground you, “You need to breathe.” 

Your eyes nervously find his brown ones. For a second, you recall summer days when the sun would hit them just right, turning them into molten honey for your tasting. Soft and glowing, warming you from the inside out so effortlessly. 

But there’s not a single shred of sunlight in this hallway. The dark brown falls flat against your vision. 

“I’m fine,” you very clearly aren’t, struggling to even get the words out into the air between you two, “I’m- I’m fine.”

He doesn’t fight you when you reach up to swat away his hands. He lets you, hands falling away with ease, touch retracting as if it had never burned you. You take the chance to look over the metal now settled on his fingers, and you realize he still wears all the same ones you remember so vividly. A cross, a pig’s face, an animalistic skull. But there are new ones added to his collection, adorned on his right hand rather than the left. Unfamiliar and odd, the bulky metallic additions are more plentiful. A silver snake wrapped around his pinky, a large spider with the body of a Magic 8 ball on his pointer, a bat spread eagle on his middle. There’s a chunkier one on his thumb, thinner ones added above a few of his second knuckles, but you can’t clear the haze of your vision long enough to pick up on the designs. You choose to focus back on the familiar ones instead, old and comforting even in your panic. 

New rings, new cologne, new habits – the Eddie before you is not the Eddie you once knew. 

“Okay,” he’s whispering now. You’re not even sure what excuse he used to follow you out here without causing a scene. Maybe he did cause a scene, surely a grander one than you. He had that privilege now; he was an untouchable rockstar, he could afford to raise a ruckus. “I… Are you sure?” 

It’s hard to believe there was a time he was a familiar comfort when all that remains now is the awkward distance between the two of you.

But when he takes a step back from you, the new cologne leaves your stratosphere and the new rings leave your field of vision, and the breaths finally come just a tiny bit easier. Still not enough to satiate your lungs, but enough that the headrush begins to pass. 

“I’m sure.” 

You try to insert such finality in those two words. As if whatever had just happened would fade and never exist, as if you could walk back into that conference room and take yourself off this project. You can’t. Eddie has a sense of control, a grip on his reality and the reigns of his choices, but you don’t. If you were to demand Lydia remove you from the project, you’d be risking termination. You’d be risking everything – and it may not be much, but you’d built it brick by broken brick these last few years. You’d salvaged what you had been able to out of the ashes of what had been, but it hadn’t been enough. It had hardly been enough for a foundation. You’d built up the person that now stood before him from practical scratch.

The weight of just how much you had to lose hits suddenly – the realization that this was happening and you had no control of it. 

But Eddie did. He had to. 

“You need to go back in there,” you start, voice still shaking and eyes still averted, “And you need to demand that they reassign you guys. You… You need-” you begin to stutter and fumble to find the right words. You could have lashed out, could have tried to pour salt in a wound you weren’t even sure still existed so that Eddie made the choice on his own. But your mind is muddled and you’re desperate, “Someone else can take on the project. You need to go and demand that someone else takes on the project.” 

“What?” Not the response you wanted. Not the response you needed, “I- No.” 

Two years later, and he still found a way to do significant damage. 

Your eyes snap up, “What do you mean no?” 

“I mean no.”

“I haven’t asked anything of you. Not back then, not after everything happened, I-”

He cuts you off with a scoff. “Can’t ask for anything if you just fall off the face of the fucking earth.” 

You hadn’t noticed before, but as his walls begin to build, you realize that the prior interaction had been something vulnerable. Something where neither of you were on the defense quite yet like you’d always imagined a reunion would go. All that had mattered ten seconds ago was you being okay, him coming after you, making sure you were fine. He’d allotted you all the care and attention you had craved so terribly two years ago, nearly begged for until your knees had bled for. 

“Eddie,” you whisper, getting too distressed to think straight, “Please, for the love of God, just make them reassign the project-”

“I can’t,” he interrupts, shaking his head, “Do you think I’d put myself through this if I could help it? I fucking can’t. I have absolutely no control in there. I didn’t even-” he cuts off his sentence, looking you in your eyes, leaving more to be said. 

He didn’t even what?

“I can’t do anything about it,” he says instead of whatever had been on the tip of his tongue, “Trust me – if I could, I would. But I can’t. So why don’t you say something?” 

It’s your turn for scoffing and disbelief, “I can’t. I’m not the one with all the power and glory-”

“Is that what you think I have?”

“That’s what I know you have.” 

You both go quiet as a battlefield fills the distance between you. All anger, all regret. None of the love or care that had once existed between you two exists here in this quantum plane of sharp words and deadly jabs. 

“Just- please ask for a reassignment,” you try with one final plea, eyes hard on him, “Say that that first impression left you unimpressed, I don’t care. She won’t fire me for that.”

“Once again, no. As it turns out,” his voice is low, dangerous, unfamiliar. A tone he had never used before with you, “Even the one with all the power and all the glory can’t make miracles happen. Sorry, doll.” 

He doesn’t await your response, leaving you on your own as you stay pressed against the wall and he’s walking away. 

What is the saying? ‘Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned’? 

You were certainly feeling scorned.

You felt ripped wide open, beaten and bruised and damn scorned as he leaves a conversation you weren’t finished with. You can’t tell which limb aches the most – the shoulder where his now strange hands had held onto you, your fingers that had curled into pained fists at your side to show you were prepared for a fight, your rib cage that still struggled to expand and accommodate the air now vacant of his cologne that you needed after your panic attack, or the legs that had once carried you away from Eddie Munson only to lead you right back to him. 

There’s nothing you can do, though, beyond composing yourself. You take the same big, deep breaths that Eddie had tried to coax out of you moments before. Your fists slowly unfurl and your palms rake against the side of your jeans in an attempt to wipe away the sweat of the interaction. 

Fine. If he wouldn’t help you, you could handle this. You could manage this project, plan a goddamn party for your ex-boyfriend’s new single. You would treat it just as you did every other previous project you had excelled at, and you would avoid all unnecessary contact with him just as you had with previous clients. 

As a matter of fact, you could probably get away with avoiding all contact. 

He hadn’t hired you. His management had. And, according to him, he had no real power in this situation. If he had no say in the matters, then there would be no reason to reach out to him.

You could do this. You could handle this. 

It’s a mantra of salvation that you repeat to yourself internally as you take confident strides back to that conference room, not even stopping for the guards this time before you burst back into the room when your imminent doom awaits. 

The repetition falters a bit when all eyes land on you as you take your first steps into the room. 

Your name comes out of Lydia’s mouth like a hiss, her teeth locked into a smile that would better pass into a grimace as she asks, “How nice of you to join us again. Please, take a seat.” 

“Of course,” you can’t look her in her eyes for very long, immediately rushing to sit at the chair she’d motioned towards. You haven’t spared Eddie a single glance – you haven’t spared any of the boys you’d once known a look. Instead, you look up to direct an apology at the only face you don’t recognize before you, “I’m truly sorry.” 

The older gentleman, wrapped in a certain kindness and warmth below his professional attire, smiles. And in an instant, his face isn’t quite as unfamiliar, “No worries. When Nature calls, right? Regardless, I’m Matt. Nice to meet you.” 

You can guess which hole in Eddie’s life he’s attempting to smother, which shoes this man serves to fill. He has more hair than his predecessor, but the grin is the same. 

If you picture the man he reminds you of back in Hawkins, you’ll surely begin to ache. 

When you reply with your name, you can hear a fragment of your youth in your voice. Better days spent in Forest Hills trailer park, loitering about a trailer as Wayne Munson asks you how well of an eye you’ve been keeping on his nephew. You’d always lie, say you were keeping him in line when you knew you’d spent the day following him right into trouble, like some sort of lost puppy. Like some sort of loyal soldier. It occurs to you that that’s who you had always been; a fierce soldier over the shoulder of Eddie, ever the brave commander. You would have followed him into battle without a second of consideration, you did follow him all the way to New York without ever taking a final glance at your hometown. 

You wondered if he had tried to replace you as well. You imagine it; the new and fresh face that replaced yours in picture frames, that laid beside him at the end of each night he returned home, that heard a whisper of I love you over the line to the backtrack of a sound rehearsal. 

Were there ever any bloody wars between him and his new lovers that could compare to the battles never fought between you two? Did anyone else in this world know the wounds of his gun never fired? 

The smoke clears. You still don’t look at Eddie, afraid to only see the commander you once knew. You force a smile, putting on a soldier's bravado that doesn’t fit quite right anymore. 

Bullets never fired, triggers never pulled, but the blood stained the same.

“So, where shall we begin?”

—

Matt does most of the talking for the next hour. Sheet after sheet of paperwork is laid down in front of you, your hand beginning to cramp from signing your name so many times, and the details are discussed.

A new single, set to release in three months. A release party that needed to be grandeur and garner the type of attention that Matt feared had been waning from the band due to radio silence on their music front. The outlines of the project were clear cut, simple enough, and you had yourself fooled just well enough that this would be easy.

You kept your eyes set on the prize and never once noticed the tomfoolery occurring between the band members. The words on the tip of their tongues that Eddie keeps quiet through quick kicks to their shins beneath the table, the individual hurt reflected in each of their eyes as you treat them no better than strangers. That treatment of Eddie, they understood. But them?

They could never understand. 

“What’s the name of the single, if I may ask?” you question as you look over one of your copies of the paperwork. Lydia had been eerily silent, allowing you to take the lead. 

Despite the rough start, it was paying off. Having a switch for your emotions can be a good thing, as it turns out. 

“You may,” Matt nods before turning to the boys. It’s the first time he's looked to them for answers during the entire meeting, “Shall I do the honors, or would you boys rather do it yourselves?” 

It’s a chance for all the members of Corroded Coffin to open their mouths without silent reprimanding from Eddie beneath the table, but he beats them to it.

“Dial Tone.”

You freeze your reading. 

There’s something in the way he says it that forces you to look up. As if he’s only speaking to you, and the rest of the room is a faded mirage for him to send away for these private moments. Still a commander, even when his bravest soldier has left him. 

“Sounds… interesting,” you murmur, taking a few seconds too long to meet his gaze, unsure of what to say, “Rolls off the tongue easily.” 

“It certainly does. Which, ironic, given the situation that inspired the song.” 

“And what would that be?”

You’re both wearing masks in front of an audience half made up of people painfully aware of your history, and the rest being painfully oblivious. 

Does Matt know about you? Lydia certainly doesn’t know about Eddie. 

“Words never said. Answers never given. Phone calls missed and never… returned.”

You’re not stupid, but you wish you were. It feels a bit selfish, a bit self absorbed, to so quickly assume you’re the inspiration. 

But how could you believe anything else when Eddie is looking at you like that?

Hollow eyes, devoid of all the honey you once reveled in. Not so much of a stain of sweetness you swear you still taste on the back of your tongue. He’s looking at you with blame, well-deserved anger, and yet not an ounce of the guilt that should exist somewhere in those depths. 

“How riveting,” you play along, trying to swallow down the waves of emotions, “Sounds like it’ll really draw in your audience. Might even be relatable to a few.”

Answers never given. Like how someone could stop saying they loved someone they’d spent years planning their life with, like how he could stop calling so easily, how he could leave so easily. 

“Fingers crossed,” his forced smile in return is almost sinister, and you know it was the right choice to avoid speaking to each other until this moment.

There will be no contact. You know now that if you take on this project, which you technically have through law-binding contracts, that you won’t be able to be civil with Eddie. There is a history that can never be erased, mistakes made and wounds inflicted by both sides. Two worlds of hurt caused by opposing sets of hands that can only clash when they try to meet in the middle. 

But then Matt, sweet Matt that you had come to actually like during this meeting, has to burst your bubble.

“Right, well, the good news is the boys aren’t on tour for the time being, meaning there will be plenty of time to talk about the small details and how the single will come into play during planning,” he explains, happily and still so unaware, “As a matter of fact, I would like to emphasize just how much I would appreciate you including the boys, especially Eddie, in this ordeal. His participation would be very helpful.” 

Some silent form of communication happens between Matt and Eddie, glinting eyes and sudden frowns meeting raised eyebrows and fake smiles, but it’s not your concern. 

The last thing you want during this project is Eddie’s involvement. 

“Of course!” You need to think of an excuse, push for a way to keep him out, “But if Eddie is too busy, I’ll completely understand. I know that a single usually means an album, and that can be very time consum-”

“He won’t be too busy,” Matt interrupts, still staring at Eddie as if he’s daring him, not even questioning you singling him out as he does the exact same.

You recall what Eddie had insisted in the hallway, that his reach of control wasn’t as far as you had been assuming. 

Swallowing hard, you see another relic of Wayne Munson in this man – he wasn’t someone to argue with, “Right, of course. Eddie will be involved. Absolutely.” 

All the power and all the glory – but did it really rest in Eddie’s palms like you assumed?

“She has a point,” Eddie finally finds his voice, leaning back in his chair, trying to relax the tension from his shoulders, “I do have the album to work on.” 

“And now you have this. I’m sure you can find a way to multi-task.” 

Your comparison was accurate. It had been a while since you had seen another grown man capable of shutting Eddie down so quickly, tearing down his walls of affinity for challenging authority and reducing him to nothing more than a shell of his younger self. Matt and Wayne would have gotten along well. You doubt that they’ve met, but you know a bond would have formed between the common denominator of being able to subdue the once-rambunctious boy before you. 

Eddie pouts nearly the complete remainder of the meeting. And those foolish, bitter shards within you become determined to be the bigger person. To smile and nod along, even when you disagreed with certain terms discussed. To be agreeable, to be good, to be better. This new version of you has something to prove; that you’ve done better without Eddie, that you’ve changed into something that no longer aligns with who he is. 

It’s all for show, but you tell yourself no one can see through the cellophane disguise. 

The only remaining signatures aren’t required from you but the rest of the boys. A single contract is passed down the line, and each of them sign themselves away to the agreement. Line after line of swooping black ink locks the five of you into an entrapment, a crowded dance of newly made strangers who have no choice but to play pretend. 

Eddie makes it a deliberate point that he’s the last one to sign. Forces Grant to slide the prettily detailed paper right in front of him until it’s clear he’s making no move to pick up his pen, and the poor guy has to stretch a bit further and let Gareth take it rather than the stubborn rockstar. Only once Jeff’s own night-shade of ink has looped over one of the many lines does it return back to Eddie.

He looks you in the eyes for several seconds too long, pen crooked beside the paper on the table. You can’t take a single breath as you register how lifeless his eyes remain. 

He’s not the person you once knew, but you are no longer the girl that once saw the world in him. 

You will not drop to your knees before him, you will not worship the ground he walks on, you will not break. Certainly not first. Certainly not at all. 

There’s no final words before hands donning unfamiliar rings pick up a pen amongst the silence. Just the click of bringing the ink to life, and the soft scratch of promises that will not be kept. It’s nothing new amongst the two of you.

As a matter of fact, if the scratch of the pen could echo, it might just resemble the sound of the door on that haunted and vacant apartment closing for the final time behind you two years ago. 

—

“Do you two know each other?” 

You had been waiting for this moment. Once Matt had called for a quick break so that he could organize and make copies of all paperwork, you knew Lydia would be chasing you down. 

“What do you mean?” you question airily, topping off the small paper cup of water you had used as an excuse to dismiss yourself into the corner of the room, “Me and Matt? No, I’ve never-”

“Not you and Matt,” she moves to stand in front of you, your back to the room and the band, as she continues in an authoritative whisper, “You and the band – you and Eddie.”

“Why do you think we know each other?” 

Please don’t catch on. Please don’t notice. Please don’t make me admit it. 

Please don’t fire me. 

She retrieves her own water, moving as if she wasn’t having such an intense conversation with you at this moment. All a show for the clients, no doubt. You weren’t the only skilled actress in this room, “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe the way you ran out of this room when you saw him, maybe the way he ran after you without a word. Maybe the way the two of you spent a good ten minutes alone in that hallway, and how the rest of that band has been looking at you like you’re a ghost. Please don’t tell me you had a fling with Eddie before this. I really need my best person on this project, but I can’t have personal relationships interferin-”

“No, we don’t know each other,” you cut her off, ignoring the compliment and taking a sip to give your chance to formulate a better addition to the lie. It wasn’t really a lie, though, was it? “I promise it’s nothing, and it won’t interfere. I just…” I just hate him. I just miss the version of him I used to know. I just need you to take me off this project as quickly as possible for a reason that won’t make you think less of me or affect my future career here. “I don’t like the band, you know this.” 

“I knew you weren’t a fan of them, but…” she trails off and looks over your shoulder, no doubt surveying the band. When you stood up from the table, they’d all been feigning boredom as if they hadn’t been taking turns staring you down so intensely. You felt like an animal under observation. “I thought it would be a good thing. To have a neutral party take this on. Why, exactly, don’t you like them?” 

“ I don’t think he’s a good person.”

He as in Eddie. It goes as unspoken knowledge. And, technically, it isn’t a lie. Based on the headlines, based on his coolness this entire interaction, you don’t think he’s a good person. Not anymore. 

You can feel the four sets of eyes on you even now. Your exchange with Lydia has been too quiet for them to hear, but you know you’re still being watched carefully.

“You don’t have to think he’s a good person, but you do need to play nice,” Lydia reminds you. You open your mouth, prepared to argue that you had been playing nice when Lydia waves her free hand to stop you, “I know, I know. I’m not saying you haven’t been perfectly professional. You have been, aside from your… bathroom break at the beginning, but please just remember that.” 

You nod, stiff as ever. She was giving you more grace than you deserved if you tried to look at it from an outsider’s point of view. 

“Of course,” that tone of professionalism, that mask to hide the whirlwind of emotions. You could do this.

You had to do this.  

Choice is an illusion when Matt returns with the copies of paperwork, dividing the files up between himself and Lydia. Choice is an illusion as fake smiles are exchanged and pleasant goodbyes are offered. Choice is nothing but smoke and mirrors when all is said and done, and the entire group of you all stand outside the conference room, ready to part ways with a promise of next time, meaning the next meeting.

You never had a choice in any of this. Eddie did, somewhere along the line, but you didn’t. 

Lydia and you both hand over business cards to Matt’s waiting hands, a deliberate move on your part. You bypass Eddie’s expectant glare entirely. The quicker this is over with, the faster he’s exiting the building and no longer occupying the same room as you, the better. 

“We’ll be in contact,” Matt promises as he tucks the cards away carefully. 

“I look forward to it,” you assure him, as if you weren’t dreading every second of what those contracts had detailed.

Three months. You had just signed on to guarantee Eddie Munson being back in your life for three months. The thought makes you nauseous. 

Matt, ever the normal person, takes it as his queue to leave. Lydia has nodded, turned and began her short trek to her office as the band’s manager starts his journey to the elevator. Most of Corroded Coffin scampers after him, gazes on the floor as they retreat to a private space that will certainly be filled with questions. You almost wish there was a way for you to hear what will be said. The topic of conversation, undoubtedly, will be you. You and Eddie, Eddie and you. A pair of intertwined souls that had taken a sharp knife to your connection only to end up with Fate cruelly retying it on this dreadful day. 

Fate, and Eddie, it seems. 

His hand reaches out and catches your upper arm before you can escape the exchange properly. 

“Can we talk?” You stare at him blankly to hide the racing of your heart and pounding in your mind. Those hands on you, skin on skin, leaving an inevitable mark. An inevitable stain. “Go for coffee, go for lunch, just-”

“No.”

You don’t have to think about your answer. Your pause was only born out of shock. 

His eyebrows furrow, “No? What do you mean no?” 

It feels like a pathetic repeat of your interaction in the hallway, when you had begged him to save you from this doomed union. Except now, you hold the cards in your hand. The first sense of control you’ve been offered this entire time. 

“I mean no,” you repeat yourself clearly. Matt is halfway down the hall, and the boys trailing right behind him seem to fumble over their steps for a second. Jeff even goes as far as to look over his shoulder at the brewing storm appearing behind them, but clearly thinks better of intruding, “I don’t want to talk. I don’t want coffee, and I don’t want lunch.” 

End of story. 

Except, it isn’t, because Eddie’s face only twists further in pain, “We have to talk at some point-”

“Actually, we don’t. I’d prefer we didn’t. I think we can both agree it’ll be better, easier, for both of us to keep this strictly professional until we can go our separate ways again.”

He looks as if you had physically reached out and struck him. The force of your words nearly makes him rock backwards, face falling and mouth agape as he tries to grapple with the determination in your words. 

If you were a fool, you’d mistake it for a flash of disappointment. But it’s not possible – it couldn’t be disappointment, only arrogance. He had obviously been assuming you would just give in. Your change just hadn’t become clear enough to him yet. It would, in time. 

And now, the two of you seemingly had too much of it to endure. 

“Actually, I think we can both agree that’s a load of bullshit,” he crassly argues back once he’s regained composure, “You know that’s not possible.”

You shake your head, suck in a bit of the skin of your inner cheek between your molars as an internal encouragement to stand your ground, “It is. It’s not only possible, but is exactly what’s going to happen.”

“You heard Matt. We have to talk at some point, even if it’s just about this and not us.”

“And we will. We can talk about this project all you want, Eddie. But not over lunch, and not over coffee,” you swear you draw blood from your cheek as you take back on that tone of professionalism, ice cold and completely disconnected, “My preferred form of contact is email. I usually respond in a timely manner, even after hours-”

“Don’t do that,” he stops you.

“Don’t do what?”

“Don’t talk to me like I’m just another one of your clients.” 

The metallic flavor floods the deepest corners of your mouth, overtaking the aftertaste of a honey you once knew on the back of your tongue, “That’s exactly what you are. One of my clients.” 

Just a client, and nothing more. A boundary must be drawn, or else there will be more blood spilled than a mere drop from biting your inner cheek. And you aren’t prepared to bleed for him – not again. Never again. 

He opens his mouth, as if he has more to dig out of the grave of this conversation, when Matt’s voice calls from down the hallway, “Eddie! C’mon! There’ll be time to talk later, we’ve got a meeting with the producer across town now.” 

His stance goes rigid, annoyance rolling off him in waves, eyes still focused on you. 

Maybe the reminder of time, the three month timeline, hurts him just as much as it hurts you. Maybe, just possibly, his arm has also been twisted in carving out a space for you in his life once more, whether strictly professional or not. 

He deeply exhales through his nose, “I don’t even have your email.” 

“Matt does. He has my card.”

“Yeah, he does. I don’t. How am I supposed to reach you through your preferred form of contact without it?”

“I’m sure you’ll find a way.” 

You mean to smile at him just as you would the owner of the bakery opening on Third Street, or the mother of a bride trying to share the weight of responsibilities for a wedding. It doesn’t come off that way, though – you can feel the sadness of it tickle the corners of your mouth before he’s even slowly turning from you.

You watch the figure of Eddie Munson walk away from you, and you begin to wish he were walking out of your life rather than only out of the building for the time being.

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Second Chance | Arber Xhekaj

• ──────────────♡────────────── •

pairing: arber xhekaj x reader genre: angst, fluff at the end word count: 1.9k warnings: none summary: two months after your break-up, arber comes begging for a second chance

notes: started this a couple of weeks ago and i've finally finished it. the part that took the longest was deciding which hockey player i wanted to use for it.

• ──────────────♡────────────── •

Coming to the game was a bad idea. I knew it from the moment the word yes slipped from my lips, but when Mayah, the bubbly girl that sits next to me in my psychology lecture, asked if I would attend the game between the Montreal Canadiens and Toronto Maple Leafs with her after her friend bailed, I couldn't find it in me to turn her down.

In the day leading up to the game, I convinced myself that everything would be fine. That he wouldn't even know I was there. I'm not quite sure if I jinxed myself or if Karma was playing some cruel joke on me, but the second we made it to our seats, right there in the front row behind the Canadiens bench, I decided it was some sick and twisted combination of the two. Regret began to make itself right at home in my head the second we settled into our seats.

As the two teams make their way out onto the ice to head to their respective benches, the crowd goes wild. The arena fills with the sound of thousands of fans cheering and yelling. However, the sound of my own rapidly beating heart floods my eardrums, replacing the loud screams of the fans, as my eyes drift to him and our gazes interlock.

Arber Xhekaj, defenceman for the Montreal Canadiens of the National Hockey League, known to me as my ex-boyfriend, is staring right at me and there was nowhere I can go to hide.

Once upon a time, he was a man that meant everything to me. He was my whole world. We spent a little over two years in a relationship together, happy and in love. Things were perfect between us, until they weren't. What started as small, petty disagreements that happened here and there became full-on arguments that occurred almost every day. While I was putting in the effort to fix things, he was shutting me out. I pinned all of it on stress and the lack of time we got to spend with each other because of his work and my schooling. I tried to wait it out in hopes that things would return to normal, but eventually, I couldn't do it anymore. I didn't see the point in fighting for us if he wasn't willing to do the same. I've spent the past few months trying to move on and forget about him, and I thought I was doing pretty well. That all came crashing down the moment he noticed me. I suddenly became painfully aware that I was still hopelessly in love with him.

The insistent tapping on my arm is what finally pulls me from our impromptu staring contest. When I turn to my left, Mayah is buzzing with excitement.

"Oh my god! Arber Xhekaj is literally staring at you." She squeals. "How are you not freaking out right now? He is six feet and four inches of muscle and manliness. I would climb him like a fucking tree if given the opportunity."

The ending comment causes a pang of jealousy to flare up inside of me. I push it away as quickly as it appears though. I have no right to feel that way anymore, as we are no longer together. It's a feeling that I don't want to feel again, at least not when he is concerned.

Not able to come up with a response, I shrug my shoulders to express a feeling of indifference and turn to face forward as the announcer's voice floods the arena.

• ───────────────────────────── •

Despite the Habs loss to the Maple Leafs, my body is still filled with adrenaline and excitement as I walk out of the arena with Mayah. I had forgotten how much I loved hockey. It was how I met Arber. When things ended between us, I forgot how much I enjoyed watching the game as I tried my hardest to forget him.

"Thanks for coming with me."

"Thanks for inviting me." I respond. "I think that's the most exciting thing I've experienced in a while."

"Anytime." She smiles. "My Uber is here but I'll see you in class on Monday?"

"Yeah, see you Monday." I wave her off as she climbs into the car waiting for her by the curb.

As I wait for my own ride to arrive, I feel my phone buzz in my hand, alerting me of a text.

From Unknown Number: Hey. Can we talk?

Despite there being no name on the contact, I knew exactly who it was from. I'm about to turn my screen off to ignore it when another message comes through.

From Unknown Number: I know you're seeing this.

From Unknown Number: Please

From Unknown Number: I just want to talk.

All it takes is for that fourth and final message to come through for me to make my decision. I type out a short reply just as my Uber arrives.

• ───────────────────────────── •

A couple of hours later, here I am, standing in front of his apartment door. I'm a ball of nerves as I raise my hand to knock on the door. It only takes two knocks for the door to go swinging open and I suddenly find myself standing face-to-face with the man I swore I would never see again.

"Hey." He greets, voice still as deep and mesmerizing as I remember. "Come in."

I give him a tight-lipped smile as I step past him into the apartment I once considered a second home. He closes the door without a word and then leads me into the living room.

"Do you want some water?" He asks as I take a seat on the couch.

"No, thank you." I reply, trying to keep my voice steady in hopes that I can conceal the emotions that are beginning to rise to the surface. "What did you want to talk about? It's late and I can't stay long."

"I-" He begins before quickly cutting himself off, taking a seat on the sofa opposite of me. He sighs heavily and then tries again. "I miss you."

I freeze instantly at the words that leave his mouth. A mixture of shock and anger forms in my chest. "Arber-"

"These past few months have been hell." He continues. "I know you probably don't believe me, but I'm telling the truth."

"I can't do this." My voice wobbles as I speak, tears welling up in my eyes. I stand up, making a move towards the door. "I...I need to leave. I shouldn't have come here."

"Why?" Frustration is evident in his tone as he quickly follows my movements, grasping my hand to stop me from walking any further. "Why can't you just stay and talk to me?"

"Because if I stay, I might do something stupid." I shake my head, trying to clear the racing thoughts that have taken over. "Like..." My voice trails off, not able to finish the sentence as I attempt to get my emotions under control.

"Like what?" He interrupts, inching closer to me.

"Forgive you," I answer, looking him in the eyes for the first time since I arrived. "Because God knows you don't deserve my forgiveness. Not this easily."

"You're right. I don't deserve it," He nods. "But I want it anyway, because I'm selfish and cruel, right?" He punctuates his question with an audible scoff. Throwing my own words from our last argument at me.

"Don't say that like I'm the bad guy." I bite back. "You were the one that pushed me away like I was nothing when I was the only one there for you." My words are bitter. "I've tried so hard to make myself hate you for the way you made me feel. I tried so fucking hard. Instead, I ended up hating myself for failing so miserably. Despite my efforts, I still fucking love you. And it hurts."

My chest is tight and I'm breathing heavily as I fight back the sob that threatens to leave me. His hand grips mine tighter as he opens his mouth to speak.

"I can't tell you how sorry I am. I know I fucked up. Treating you like that and letting you walk out that door were two of the biggest mistakes I've ever made in my life." He confesses. "I want you. No, scratch that. I fucking need you. And I'll spend every day for the rest of our lives making up for what I did if that's what it takes."

"I waited for you." I whisper as the dam behind my eyes finally breaks, tears cascading down my cheeks. "For two months, I waited for something to change. For you to change."

"I know." His hands lift to caress my face, thumbs gently brushing away my tears. "And I promise I'll never make you feel like that again. I won't take your love for granted ever again."

"I thought you were falling out of love with me and I couldn't take it anymore."

"Never did I stop loving you." He shook his head, a deep frown etched on his face.

"Then what happened?"

"I was scared. You were getting busier with school and I was beginning to travel more. The longer we spent apart the more I began to question the stability of our relationship. I was afraid that, because of my busy schedule and how often I have to travel for the majority of the year, I wouldn't be able to be the type of boyfriend that you need. That you deserve. I convinced myself that it was only a matter of time before you realized that and as a result, I subconsciously began to push you away."

"You could have just talked to me." I sigh. "We could have figured it out."

"I know." He nods. "I wish I could take it back. I really do. If you would just give me a second chance, I'll do better."

"Promise?"

"Yes. I promise."

"Okay."

"Okay?"

"I'll give you another chance, but if you fuck it up, we're over for good."

"I won't." He shakes his head, hands moving to my waist to pull me into him. "You have my word."

"Good." I smile softly, laying my head on his chest.

The room falls silent as we stand in each other's embrace, taking in the moment. After a few minutes, it's Arber that makes the first move to separate us, but only enough to be able to see my face. He stares silently, lips parted as if he wants to say something.

"What?" I question, noticing his hesitation.

"Can I kiss you?" His right hand moves up to rest on my cheek, angling my head up a little more. It takes less than a second for me to respond.

"Please do."

His lips brush mine softly at first, a brief peck to test the waters. He pulls back slightly to examine my face. I'm not quite sure what he is looking for, but whatever he does or doesn't find has him leaning back in. This kiss is deeper, hungrier, more desperate. We stay like this for a while. Melting into each other. Once the lack of oxygen becomes too much, we finally part. Our foreheads remain pressed together, our eyes still closed as we try to catch our breaths.

"I really fucking missed you." He whispers, our lips brushing with every word he speaks.

"I missed you too." I smile against his lips.

"Stay."

"What?" I pull back slightly and open my eyes to look at him.

"Stay." He repeats. "Stay the night with me. It's late anyways. I don't want you going back on your own. So stay."

I take a few seconds to think it over before I respond, nodding my head. "Okay."

Smiling, he steps out of our embrace and intertwines his fingers with mine, pulling me behind him as he begins to make his way down the familiar path to his bedroom.

[huggybearhughes43]

Country singer reader that’s Canada’s sweetheart reconnecting with her childhood best friend Ethan Edwards after her performance at the Calgary Stampede (since he was there tonight) leading to fluff and smut please

Worth the wait

Ethan Edwards x Fem! Reader

Warnings- smut, raw dawgin, oral (fem receiving), semi public, creampie

Summary- in the ask

Word count- 2.2k

My jaw was slacked as I stared at the phone in my hand, looking at Ethan Edwards instagram story. Ethan was in the crowd that I was to preform to in less than half an hour. The fame was random, I had posted a song that I had written years and years ago on TikTok and it blew up. My heart ached remembering the song, it was one I wrote about Ethan, my little self was head over heels for him. We never had an argument or disagreement that was the end of the friendship. Really, it was him going off to college that ended it. I couldn’t be mad at him, never. Because he was following his dreams of making it big in hockey and who was I to be selfish and stop him? Ethan and I met when we were eight, I was the new kid to school and as Ethan is, he was the first to greet me. We were inseparable ever since, his family like mine and mine like his. Well until he got into college that is. We kept in contact for months until one message a day turned to none. I couldn’t be mad because I never built up the courage to text him either, I guess we both had the same idea.

My heart almost jumped out of my chest when I heard my name announced. I put my phone down and make my way to the stage, trying my ever most best to shut out the nerves. I waved at the crowd as they cheered, smiling as I walk up to the microphone. My breath was shaky and my eyes scanned over the part of the crowd where I knew Ethan was. I cleared my throat and began my introduction. “How are we doing tonight, Alberta?” The crowd cheers and I smile. I sigh into the microphone which is followed by a laugh. “Being on tour… it’s so great to be back in my home town.” I grab the microphone of the stand and hold it to myself, “let’s make this concert one to remember, hm?” The crowd cheers again and the lights dim as my band starts their instruments.

The concert was amazing to say the least. My eyes couldn’t break contact with the area he posted the photo from. My eyes scanned along the group, wanting so bad to find the face I missed the most. My singing came to a close and the crowd cheered. My breath was shaky knowing exactly what song was next. It was my last song of the night, the one that made me famous… the one I wrote about Ethan. I contemplated admitting the truth on who the songs about. I take a deep breath and make my decision. I step back and ask my band to play the rhythm of the song slowly as I spoke and they agreed. The crowd cheered at the realization of the song and I began to confess.

“Have any of you had a person in your childhood that no matter how hard you tried you can’t forget about?” I smile and shake my head, “being back in my hometown… made me want to share this story with you all. The story behind this very song. As you’ve all probably guessed, the songs about a boy I was in love with.” I tap my foot rhythmically to the beat of the song in the background. “This wasn’t a random boy, he was my best friend for ten years. Some of you may know him, kind of a town legend for making it big on hockey.” I smile, eyes still scanning the crowd. Until my eyes met with his. I took a deep breath, he was smiling the same smile I remembered from my childhood. “So you, my hometown, heard it here first. This song is about Ethan Edwards.” The sight of his huge smile and his friends drunkenly cheering him on next to him was a sight I never wanted to forget. I forced my eyes to recognize the rest of the crowd as I began the song.

The song was slow and emotion baring. The crowd sung along, staring a theme of putting their flashlights in the air, waving the phones to the song. This was a common thing for fans to do during this song but knowing that the very reason it existed was in the crowd as well, made my eyes swell with tears. My voice grew shaky and I take myself away from the mic to compose myself, the crowd continuing the song without me. My heart swelled harshly when my eyes were brought back to where Ethan was standing. His arms were crossed with a drink in his hand. He smiled hard, like it was the only expression he knew to make. I took a deep breath and sung the song to a closing. The crowd cheered louder than I’d heard before, the bright lights turning back on the help the crowd to leave.

I thanked everyone and made my way off stage. My band cheered me on and patted my back as they walked past me. I grabbed my phone and stared at it, my thumb hovering over it as I contemplated texting Ethan. I sighed and decided against it, placing the phone in my back pocket before making my way to the dressing room where my bag was. I walked in, closing the door behind me. I stared at myself in the mirror, contemplating my decisions. My thoughts are startled by a knock at the door, my bones practically jumping out of my skin at how hard I jumped. I shake my head and open the door, my eyes going wide and my mouth drying as I stare up at the tall man. I felt like I was going to faint.

“Ethan?!” I grasp at my heart. It was a habit I’d done since I was younger. “In the flesh.” He smiles and pulls me into a tight hug. So tight that in any other circumstances I’d be fighting my way out of his grasp. But instead I hug him back, nestling my head into his shoulder. I gain my composure and pull away with a huge smile on my face. “How’d you manage to get back here?” He laughs and rubs his jaw that I noticed he was growing stubble on. “Was trying to convince a security guy to let me in but he wouldn’t budge. I guess one of your band mates heard me say my name and he asked the guy to let me through.” He paused for a moment, “is the song really about me?” My face goes pale and I sigh with a nod, “yeah.” “I thought it was about Zach” he shoves his hands in his pockets at the mention of my ex.

I smile at his bleak words but follow with a shake of my head. “I made it in the treehouse.” I take a deep breath, remembering the designated hang out spot of ours. Everyday after school we’d go to that treehouse. One day his mom wanted him home before he met me there. Waiting, I wrote the famous song. That’s exactly what I told him as well. When I rushed to close that notebook as he climbed into the treehouse, he assumed I was just writing in a diary. In a way I was, but when I told him I didn’t want to talk about it he didn’t peep another word. It was a quality of his that I was very fond of.

He stepped into the room and closed the door before slumping on the couch on the back wall of the room. “Why didn’t you tell me?” He looks up with a defeated expression. I tilt my head and sit next to him. “Scared of rejection I guess.” He cracked I smile. “Y/n, I’ve been in love with you since our first conversation. My friends forced me to come today because I wouldn’t shut up about how my childhood best friend is famous now.” He pauses, “congratulations by the way.” I rub my neck and laugh, “congratulations for making it national.” We sit in silence for a moment. “Was the confession too late?” I manage to squeak out.

He stares at me silently before cupping my face. My heart was beating so fast I was scared it would pop out of my chest and land right on his lap. When he saw no sign of protest he leaned in and connected our lips. It was soft, too soft. He pulls away to say something but I pull him back in before he has a chance. The smirk I felt against my lips urged me to deepen the kiss. The wait of near fifteen years poured itself into the harsh kiss. What was a soft kiss was now sloppy and heated, hands wondering all over each other. His hands land on my waist, pulling me straight on top of his lap. I pull away to catch my breath and his lips find their way to my jaw and soon my neck.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do this.” He mumbles against my throat. “Ethan, the door doesn’t lock…” I warned him through breathy moans. He looks at the door, his lips still attached to my neck. His hands wandered under my denim skirt, his thumb brushing against my core which elicits a moan from my lips. “I’ll make sure if anyone walks in they won’t be able to see you.” He looks up at me for consent to continue. I think for a second then nod eagerly. He smiles then presses his lips to back to mine. His fingers pull my panties to the side, following up with running through my slit. I breathe out harshly against his lips, fueling his ego.

He moves to lay me down on the couch, crawling on top of me. He smiles down at me before pressing a soft kiss to my lips and moving himself at the end of the couch. He leans down to put a kiss on each of my thighs before bunching up the skirt at my waist. He pauses for a moment to look up at me, waiting for any protest. When he doesn’t hear one he loops his fingers in my panties and pulls them down my legs. I stare down at him with my mouth agape, one of my hands finding home in his soft hair. He kisses up my thighs softly before getting to my dripping core. His eyes don’t leave mine as he licks a stripe from my hole to my clit. I gnaw at my bottom lip in attempt to stay quiet.

He pulls away unexpectedly which forces a deep whine from my throat. “Don’t hide your noises from me. I’ve waited too long for this for you to hold back.” Before I can respond his mouth is back on my core. I throw my head back, moaning out his name repeatedly. His tongue plunges deep into my core before moving to tug my clit with his teeth. His tongue laps sloppily, savoring the taste of my cunt. Another whine falls from my lips when he pulls away. “Do you wanna have me in you?” He asks softly as he crawls back up to hover over me once again.

“Yes please” I cry out, my hands moving to his back. Ethan smiles down at me, reconnecting our lips as he unbuttons his pants. He lines himself up with my core, pushing in slowly. He doesn’t want to risk any chance of hurting me. He swallows down my moans with his kiss. He sits still for a moment to let me get used to his size. I pull away for a moment to ask him to move and he doesn’t hesitate. He pulls away almost fully before pushing back into me. My head is thrown back the second he finds a rhythm moving in and out of me. I was sure there would be crescent shapes in his back due to my nails puncturing.

He sits up without a fault in his paste. His rough hands moving my legs to rest on his shoulders. His abuse on my cunt doesn’t stop as he presses soft kisses on my ankles. My hands anchor themselves onto the couch as I arch my back in pleasure. His thumb moves to rub circles on my clit, throwing me over the edge in pleasure. My orgasm ripples through me as I moan out loudly, not caring to keep quiet through my euphoria. The clenching of my cunt pushes him over the edge as well. “Where do you want it.” “In me” I whine, “please, I’m on the pill-“ the second I say the last word he spills his warm ropes deep into me. He snaps his hips into me a few more times before collapsing on top of me.

I laugh and wrap my arms around him. “The wait-“ I laugh “was worth it.” Ethan laughs and nods, “more than worth it.” He presses another kiss onto my lips before smiling at me. “Can’t believe it’s taken me this long to ask but… well, will you be my girlfriend?” I bite my lip and nod. “Yeah, I will.”

[starlight-write]

Silent Treatment

A/N: Figured I'd go ahead and get the ball rolling by forcing myself to finish one of my oldest drafts. You can probably tell at what point I picked this back up after it staying stagnant for months on end. Anyhow, as always let me know your thoughts!

Summary: Shinsou is giving his boyfriend the silent treatment after a sour prank. Luckily, Kaminari knows how to make him talk.

Pairings: Ler!Kaminari, Lee!Shinsou (Romantic)

Warnings: Tickling, Swearing

Word Count: 2122

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Oh come on, are you still mad about that?" Kaminari asked as he walked behind the couch and playfully shook his boyfriend's shoulders.

Still no response.

Shinsou kept his arms crossed and his mouth shut as he continued to ignore the absolute menace to society that was currently behind him.

Earlier that morning, Shinsou had made his way over to Kaminari's room to drop off his laundry that he knew the dumbass would forget about. Just casually being the best boyfriend ever. Only to be smacked in the head with a styrofoam cup and covered in water the second he had opened the door.

He watched as his boyfriend's face morphed from shock and surprised to hysterical as he fell to the floor laughing at his own prank. To overcome with laughter to even apologize as Shinsou set the now wet laundry down and leave the room to get ready for the day all over again.

He had sworn up and down to Shinsou that the water cup wasn't meant for him as he was expecting Sero to walk through the door instead to pick up the notes he had left in his room last night during one of their study sessions.

And it wouldn't have been a big deal, it really wouldn't have. Shinsou was more than used to electric hero's antics by now. If he was being honest with himself, he had to suppress a smile as he pretended to angrily stomp down the hallway. If only Aizawa hadn't poked fun at him down the hallway. Saying he looked like an angry cat that had just gotten out of the bath.

As funny as it was, it didn't have to come from Aizawa! The one person he looked up to most! He was so embarrassed and that comment had stuck with him for the rest of the day.

So here he was. Arms crossed, chin up, eyes closed as he tried his best to ignore the repeated pokes on his cheeks from the grade-A asshole behind him.

"Toshi. Toshi. Toshi. Toshi. Toshi." Kaminari repeated as he kept poking his boyfriend's face. "Hitoshi talk to meeeeeeee!" He wailed as he dramatically flung himself over the couch, hoping his theatrics would at least make the other boy crack a smile. All it did was earn him an equally dramatic eye roll as Shinsou turned his head away yet again.

Kaminari sat up awkwardly as he gave Shinsou a gentle hug.

"I'm sooooooooorry! Ok? I'm so so so so so sorry!" The electric boy continued his scene. Determined to at least get a smile out of his boyfriend. "I'm awful!" He cried as he leaned back, putting his wrist to his forehead in an exaggerated show of feigned guilt. "I'm terrible, horrible, annoying, thoughtless, most awful boyfriend in the whole world!"

Shinsou turned to him. Nodded once. And turned away.

The overly loud, offended gasp that followed actually did manage to crack a smile on the other boy's face.

"How could you!" The hero cried. Smiling himself as he noticed Shinsou covering his mouth. "You know what? Fine! I'm ignoring you too!" He announced as he leaned back up and mimicked his boyfriend's pose. Shinsou shrugged as he forced down his smile and turned away again.

There was a beat of silence. Then another. Then Shinsou's shoulders were suddenly yanked back to the seat of the couch as his boyfriend jumped over and now was attempting to pin him down.

"WAIT!!! Denki no! N-No! Stop!! Don't you dare!" He shouted. Instantly forgetting about his little grudge as giddy panic settled in his stomach. He already knew what his boyfriend was trying to do and trying his damn hardest to get away.

Kaminari just smiled as he finally managed to straddle his frantic boyfriend. His fingers settled on his lower ribs and started to lightly trace them through his shirt.

Shinsou's hands immediately shot down to grab his wrists as his boyfriends straddled him, already too nervous to contain his laughter. The two of them had had plenty of tickle fights in the past but they usually just happened when they were just flirting or sparring with each other and they always ended with Shinsou coming out on top, but Kaminari had never actually attempted to pin him down before like he had done with his friends. Shinsou had witness first hand how ruthless his boyfriend could be when he had watched him pin Kirishima to the floor and tickle him within an inch of his life after some petty argument.

Kaminari said nothing as he rolled his hands out of the boys grip as he grabbed his wrists and held them above his head. He smiled innocently as he moved one hand to lightly graze over the boys ribs. The thin T-shirt he had on providing no protection as his fingers lightly pinched up and down his ribs at a slow pace.

Shinsou bucked and thrashed with all his might as he attempted to get free although his attempts were weakened from the butterflies raging in his stomach from being forced into such a helpless position.

"Babe, stop! Stohohohop! This-Thihihihis isn't fair!" He shouted as his legs attempted to curl in on himself only to meet the other boys back. "Let me gohohohohoho! Denki c'mon stoho-OHOHOHOP!" He wailed as the other boy suddenly let go of his wrists and shot both his hands under his arms and tickled mercilessly.

"GAHAHAHAHA-! STAHAHAHAHAP!! STOHAHAP IT- STOP YOU AHAHAHAHASSHOLE-!!" Shinsou shook his head and bucked and trashed with his arms glued to his sides. Shinsou usually had impressively high endurance but when it came to tickling, especially when Denki tickled him, he could barely last even a few minutes.

The fingers stilled when the electric hero saw how red the boys face has turned and felt him flinch as he removed his hands out from under his arms. Shinsou was now gulping in all the air he could get, still shaking and giggling but grateful for the breather nonetheless.

He was going to kill Denki for this. Absolutely murder him. Already devising a plan to enact his quirk as soon as the boy spoke and taking his revenge but noticing the boy still had not moved from on top of him.

"Ahare-are we done here?" He said sarcastically, trying his best to sound annoyed while also waiting for the boy to open his mouth to answer the question.

Denki just gave him a smug grin as he cocked his head to the side.

"You win, okay? I'm sorry for ignoring you. Get up so I can go get us some snacks, you said yesterday you wanted to watch a movie right?" Shinsou said as he rubbed the boys legs in a soothing manner, trying to convince him to speak.

Denki turned his head away from him and mimicked the pout Shinsou had on his face earlier.

Dammit. Why isn't he talking?? Shinsou thought before he realized that the other boy was still ignoring him.

"C'mon babe, I said i was sorry. Talk to me sweetie, what do you want? Movie? Cuddles? Just tell me." Shinsou tried to put on his best puppy eyes as he tried his best to convince his boyfriend to speak so that he could enact his revenge but he couldn't use his quirk if he was still ignoring him.

Kaminari pretended to think for a moment before shaking his head and sticking out his tongue childishly. Happy that he had the upper hand at the moment.

Frustrated that his plan wasn't working, Shinsou kneed him in the back as protest. Kaminari shot a frown down at his boyfriend before grabbing the other's sides and flipping him on his stomach in one quick motion.

Kaminari turned around and positioned himself on the other hero's shins.

This was the point where Shinsou really started to panic.

All it took was the feeling of one finger hooking underneath his sock to send the kid into a frenzy.

It had been years since anyone had even touched his feet, a distant memory came to the forefront of his mind of his father tickling him there years ago and just now remembering how unbearable the feeling was.

Shinsou bucked, squirmed, and fought his hardest to get away from this maniac but to no avail.

"Fuck! Denki-Nohohoho! NOHOHO-get off! Get OHOFF! I'm serious this time okay?! I won't ignore you ever again just PLEASE-"

Still no response, only a smug look from that asshole as his socks were slowly peeled off his feet.

That bastard. He knew his boyfriend well enough to know that he's gonna milk every second of this for what it's worth. Holding his ankle in place and peeling the fabric at a ridiculously slow pace, (just that was enough to send the hero into hysterics) just to rile him up and mess with his head. He figured he'd only go in for the kill the second he got bored.

Well it was working.

Poor Shinsou was so nervous at this point he couldn't even get a full word out. A steady stream of helpless giggles forced their way out of him as he hid his face in his arms, too embarrassed to even look at his attacker. He knew there was no stopping what was about to happen and he was sure the anticipation would kill him before his boyfriend did if he didn't just get on with it already.

Careful what you wish for, I guess.

He hid like that for a while and his giggles even died down a bit, he was starting to wonder if Denki had changed his mind.

As soon as the thought manifested however, he felt a single finger trace its way down the sole of his foot, and Shinsou screeched.

It went quiet for a moment. It gave Shinsou enough time to really let the mortification sink in.

God, his face was on fire. He did not just let out the loudest, most high-pitched, girliest sound he's ever made right in front of his boyfriend. If that was just one finger, Shinsou knew what was coming next was going to drive him insane. He almost hoped it'd be enough to kill him.

Another second passed before Shinsou felt those evil hands suddenly let go and his boyfriend's weight shift slightly.

"Pppffffffft!-"

Shinsou looked behind him to see Kaminari holding both hands tightly over his mouth, his face turning red from trying to hold in his laughter.

The next second the electric hero burst into uncontrollable laughter, so much that he actually fell off of the couch.

Yeah, Shinsou didn't even bother to get up.

Meanwhile, Kaminari was practically rolling on the floor with how hard he was laughing.

"DUHUHUHUDE-AHAHAHAHAHA! Are you okahahahahy?" The blond asked clutching his stomach. "Did I almohohost kill you?? Ohohohoh God, thahahat was too good."

"You really liked that, huh? You like being a fucking nuisance and trying to murder the one person who'll put up with you?" Hitoshi spat as he sat up and looked down at the other kid.

Kaminari chuckled and threw his hands up in surrender, knowing Shinsou well enough to know there was no real venom behind his words, he understood that they came from the embarrassment his boyfriend must be feeling at the moment. He would be lying if he said he wasn't a little proud being able to shake up his normally stoic boyfriend to such a degree.

"I mean, yeah, that was pretty great. I had no idea your feet were that ticklish." Kaminari laughed. "I need to do that more often. I had no clue you were even capable of reaching that kind of high not-"

Not even a minute into him talking again and Shinsou had decided he's already had enough. Taking the opportunity to finally brainwash his boyfriend.

He sat there rubbing his temples for a minute or two before commanding the other to lie on the couch so Shinsou could finally give the pest a taste of his own medicine.

Although, he couldn't lie to himself and say it wasn't at least a little bit of fun. He loved having his boyfriend's undivided attention whenever he could get it, even if it meant he had to scream like a banshee to get it. Shinsou couldn't help but smile to himself. In retrospect, it had been kind of funny.

The boy made sure to put back on his signature glare before releasing his hold over the other's mind, delighting in the panicked look on his face as he realized his situation.

Shinsou said he was going to murder his boyfriend after that little stunt and that's exactly what he's about to do.

[seriesxwriting]

rafe x maybank!reader where she goes to rafe after luke beat her up, but they’re not actually dating, just friends with benefits and he gets so worried cuz he doesn’t know about how luke treats her and jj and he just takes care of her

Thank you so much, I appreciate the request!! This sounds so fun to write I hope I can capture your idea for you<3.

He’s my safe haven

Rafe x reader (jjs sister)

Series- Outer banks

Warnings- swearing, domestic abuse (fighting), degrading words, sort of kissing. Main character putting herself down.

Summary- Request 💗

-requests are open for any characters 🫶

“Where are you going bitch?” Luke scowled from the sofa. He had another beer in his hand now after I’d kicked the other one all over the floor trying to get away from him.

“Somewhere your not” I sniffed through the pain my body was going through. “And where are you going to go” he laughed out loud throwing his head bad. “No one wants you, you don’t matter to anyone” my dad spat at me before taking another slip. He slapped his lips together and put the glass on the table, getting up.

“She’s had enough!” JJ stormed out of his room to stand in front of me. “J don’t” I winced but he put his arm out to block me. “I decide when she’s had enough” luke chuckled getting closer to us. He violently grabbed JJ by the neck and threw him on the floor.

I tried to get out of the door but Luke gripped my ponytail pulling it backwards hard. I grunted as he slammed me into the wall. A second after he landed a gnarly punch to my stomach.

Repeating his actions from an half an hour ago. “You do it to yourself you know that, by just talking you do it to yourself” he screwed up his face before his fist drove back again. Using my knee I pushed him backwards before kicking him in between the legs.

He cried out in pain and I ran for the door. “You’ll get what’s coming for you one day” I slammed the door in his face and bolted from the house. Of course it was raining. In fact it was pouring down. I did hear something about a storm on the news earlier.

As much as I hated to admit it luke was technically right. I had no place to go, no safe haven. But running through the rain, crying my eyes out and being in so much fucking pain led me to one idea. It was a long shot but it was the only idea I had. And off to figure eight I went.

-<3-

I knocked on Rafe’s window after climbing up biting back the screams from the intense pain all across my body. He was laying on his bed when he rolled his head over to sus out the noise. When he saw me sitting on the seal he grinned and bounced up tossing his phone on the bed.

“Well Well Well, look who it is showing up at my window” he swung his arms smugly walking towards the window to open it for me. He lifted the glass up and I climbed in.

“Hi” I breathed awkwardly looking at him, as I did his face dropped. “What the fuck happened?” He strode forward like we were magnets and held my face in his hands. Softly his thumb ran over a bruise that was forming on my cheek. He turned my face to the other side seeing another on my jawline. “You never seen a bruise before?” I smirked leaning forward into a kiss.

Rafe softly planted a quick kiss on my lips before pulling away from my face shaking his head.

“Just help me forget it rafe” I stepped closer to him again. “Not this time y/n- sit down” Rafe ordered pointing to his bed letting go of me.

He wondered off into his on-sweet while I didn’t know what to do with myself. “You going to tell me what happened?” He asked when coming back out. “I fell” my Shoulders shrugged awkwardly.

“Well your clearly lying, will you sit down please?” He asked again with a small medial kit under his arm. “Rafe this is not necessary, it don’t matter! I don’t matter!” I raised my voice slightly feeling my eyes prick with tears again.

“Y/n” he whispered shaking his head coming over to hug me as my chin wobbled. As soon as he did I broke down crying into his shirt balling it up in my fist just to keep him close. Rafe guided me to the bed where he sat and pulled me onto his lap. “You matter to me” he whispered squeezing me gently.

“Ive seen bruises on your body before- i think I was scared to ask in all honesty, but never on your face y/n never this bad”. I pulled away from his chest to look up at him wiping my face. “This isn’t your shit to deal with Rafe” I shook my head vigorously.

“Does it really look like I mind?” Rafe interrogated raising his eyebrow up. “Why is it so hard to believe I just want to help you” “I’ve told you how to help” I whispered moving my hand up to his face. “Don’t be stupid your clearly hurt, you need to rest” Rafe took my hand off his face holding it.

“And you need to change out of these wet clothes I can’t believe your dad let you out there in a storm”. My face dropped when Rafe mentioned my dads name and he picked up on it.

“I’m going to get you some of Sarah’s clothes from the utility room- your welcome to use the shower there’s towels in there” Rafe kissed my hand before getting up and leaving the room. It was tempting, rafes shower was the best feeling in the world. “Fuck it” I shrugged and headed to the kooks shower.

I was only in there for ten or fifteen minutes before coming back into rafes room with a green towel wrapped around me. My hair was brushed out now too so I looked less of a mess. “Hey” I smiled weakly, Rafe watched the bruising on my chest and on my thighs as I walked round to him.

He didn’t say anything just got up and put his arm out to hold my face. I flinched. I don’t know why I didn’t mean to I know Rafe wouldn’t ever hurt me. “I’m sorry I…” “…Is it luke?” He whispered pulling back and cutting me off, looking into my eyes. Now I didn’t say anything, just stared up at him.

“I’m going to get changed now” I shut down the conversation and reached over picking up the pile of clothes rafe laid out for me, walking back into the bathroom. My heart pounded against my chest. Rafe had gotten me some grey jogging bottoms, a white crop top and a matching grey jumper for over the top which I didn’t put on because I was boiling, unfortunately that left on show the worst bruise that Luke landed on me before I left.

When I came back into rafes room he was laying in bed with the TV on. He patted the other side not looking at me.

Hesitantly, I walked over and climbed in under the warm covers next to him. The boy scooped me up landing my head on his chest while his arms were wrapped tightly around me.

“He’s a piece of shit” rafe whispered to me after a second, almost like he couldn’t hold it back. “I know” I replied with a minimal response. “And so Is JJ for letting that happen” “don’t say that” I snapped shaking my head. “JJ gets it worse because he’s always protecting me”, Rafe hummed watching the tv but not listening to it. He was thinking.

“You can’t go back there y/n” he exhaled sounding worried. “I have to go back rafe there’s no where else for me to go”

“You can crash here” rafe suggested clinging onto me tighter. “He’s my dad Rafe, i cant avoid him forever and I can’t stay here forever” I rubbed his hand with my thumb. “But it’s cute you care” I smiled to myself. “of course I care” he replied quickly, “you just need to know that your welcome here when ever you need- AND that you do matter y/n, you do”.

“thank you Rafe” I whispered looking up at him. His face was so close to mine. All I had to do was close the two centimetre gap between our lips. It was tempting, have you seen that man? Of course it was tempting.

He looked down at me with his piercing blue eyes and smirked after a few seconds. “Get it out your head it’s not happening yet, your still hurt” “yet is the key word there Cameron” I grinned shrugging. Rafe chuckled hugging me tighter.

I found my safe haven. It wasn’t a place after all, it was a person. It was Rafe Cameron.

[henryinsaney]

You guys liked my poolverine text-post so much, so here is my goofy ahh oneshot i wrote today. I hope you will enjoy it.

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It has been few weeks since Deadpool and Wolverine "saved the world".

Logan had decided to stay in this universe, instead of returning to his own. After all, he was the worst Wolverine possible, and in his own world, he was nothing. Here he instead felt like he mattered.

Logan lied on the sofa wathing some corny drama series from the tv. He didn't care for the series at all, but he needed something to discract himself from thinking about Wade again. Damn Wade, and his "noodlehunt" he was currently on. He wanted these speacial noodles, that were hard to find. He traveled bunch of different cities, and had been away for few hours already, and was probably going to be few more. It was cute to Logan. So damn cute he couldn't help but think about his scraped face.

-Wait!

The man in red shouted. Wolverine stopped and turned around to see Deadpool who ran after him.

-Don't go yet.

Deadpool panted. Wolverine wanted to cointinue his journey to the unkown, and forget his new "friend", but something in him made him stop and listen.

-I uhm... I made myself a promise ages ago, that I will always confess my true feelings without hiding them ever again, so...

Deadpool said with a shaky voice looking at Wolverines eyes.

-I like you, and i don't want you to go.

Wolverines heart skipped a beat. He wasn't expecting anything like that from him. He was ready for a "take care" or "see you" or something like that. He tried to open his mouth and say something, but he was speechles. He felt some vulnerability in his heart and his face made Wade realize it too.

-If you want to go, it's okay, but you are always welcome to where ever I am. I admid, I was quite a dick towards you, but actually I just can't hate you. I could never.

A short silence fell between them before the shorter man broke it stepping closer to the another.

-You are right. You are quite a dick... But, so am I.

He admitted while smirking like a fool. He stepped closer once again, and so did Wade.

The distance between them got more narrow, and so their voices got more quiet as they didn't need to shout to eachother anymore.

-I suppose i could stay after all.

Logan avoided his eyes, as Wade tried to hide his wide grin.

-I...

He tried to cointinue, but all the words vanished from his head, as Wade put his arm on his shoulder.

After that, it only took one glance, and suddenly they were as close, as they were when trapped up together in the void. But this time, they were so close because they wanted to.

They leaned closer to eachother. Even thought both of them wanted to say out loud what they were thinking, any words didn't come out from their mouths. They leaned even closer.

Wades face heated up as Logan tied his hands around his waist. While Logan had Wades hands wrapped behind his neck, he leaned once again closer. Wades worries about losing him faded as he heard Logans rough voice say the soft words.

-I like you too.

They melted in a kiss flavoured with fresh love and dried blood and sweat from all the battles they fought in together.

Logan snapped out of his thoughts as he heard the door open. Wade walked in with two large bags in his hands which he tossed on the kitchen table. The bags fell over and tens of noodlebags poured on the table.

-Had to buy them all, so I won't run out in a while.

Wade laughed as he sat on the sofa next to his "friend". Logan smirked. He had learnt to know Wade so well over the past few weeks this didn't surprise him.

-So, how have you been?

Wade asked smiling. Logan didn't answer but instead, he took another sip of his beer. Wades smile faded, and he placed his hand on Logans shoulder.

-Tell me whats wrong. I know something is bothering you. You have gotten more distant day by day!

It was true. Logan had been lost in his thoughts, just like he used to be pushing him away from the others. Logan sighed and just as he was planning to refuse to tell, he glanced at Wades sweet brown puppy-eyes, and couldn't resist but spill his heart out with a heavy sigh.

-I hate to admid it, but I have been thinking about us, Wade. Before I met you, my life had been empty but now I feel like I actually care about living. Heh, I know I can be such a brat sometimes and that I always act grumpy as fuck, but underneath all that... Fuck this sounds cringe, but I do have a heart. A heart that is able to love. And... I think I have fallen in love with you.

After he had said all he needed to, Logan turned his head away from flabergasted Wade. He didn't want to see his expression, as the fear of rejection taunted his mind. The room fell silent and second by second, Logans heartbeat rised soon making the quietness unbearable.

-You love me?

Wade whispered, as he tried to meet Logans eyes again. Logan turned away even more causing Wade to get frustrated.

-Logan please! I need to know!

Wade gasped with a hint of heart ache in his voice, as he grabbed Logans chin to force him to look at his face. Logan let out a defeated sigh.

-I am so fucking much in love with you, Wade Wilson.

Unlike Logan thought would happen, a wide warm grin spreaded on Wades face. He pulled Logan in a tight hug where he wrapped his hands around his neck, just like when they first shared a kiss. And again, they didn't need any more words, but Wade decided to use them anyways.

-I love you too, bastard.

The man, known as Wolverine wrapped his hands around Deadpool and squished him into the warmest hug he had ever been in. After they pulled away from eachother, they made room for something more. They leaned closer to eachother and while their two hearts beated separately, they shared the one same thought.

Their lips touched once again, now without the fear like the first time. Only love.

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Words: 1,069 (coincidence? I think not...)

Thanks for reading ❤️ (Im sorry for my possibly-poor grammar, blame dyslexia)

[writing-until-i-drop]

Welcome Home, Sweetheart | Drabble

Rhett Abbott x f! reader (no use of y/n)

You and Rhett were childhood best friends and now you're back in town after living out of state for a few years. Your first night in town is one you'll never forget.

warnings! Rhett punches a guy, reader finds it hot, not proof read, written in under ten minutes

"Go anywhere near her again and I'll put you in the ground," Rhett growled at the man who had gotten handsy with you at the bar, hitting him once more. The man fell, face bloody, and Rhett stood above him chest heaving.

"Leave him, Sugar," Your soft voice was hard as steel. Rhett glanced over his shoulder, blood trickling down his chin, looking to argue about it. "You take one more step in any direction but mine and I'm leaving without you." You didn't have his keys but you'd hotwire his truck and he knew it. You'd done it before and you'd do it again. He arched a brow and you did the same back.

"Listen to the little lady, Rhett," Hank, a regular, put himself between the men. "Fight's over." Rhett sighed, turning on his heel and heading straight for you. You were glaring at him but the sight of blood on a man was doing things to you, you shifted, squeezing your thighs together.

"I'm fixing to beat your ass myself for starting a fight on my first night back." He shrugged, crowding you against the grill of his truck. "Rhett Abbott, you are a hazard to society."

"He was bein' disrespectful to ya," Rhett brushed his bloody knuckles across your cheek. "You know I won't let that slide."

"Still my protector after all these years, aren't you, Rhetty?" He gave a curt nod, his cheeks flushing pink. "Well come on, Sugar. I'll patch you up just like I use to." Rhett didn't move, keeping you pinned against the truck, staring down at you with eyes you had often gotten lost in as a teenager. You felt a blush start in your ears and work it's way down your face, blossoming in your chest under his attention. He cupped your cheek with one rough hand, his raspy voice soft enough for only you to hear as he said,

"Welcome home, Sweetheart."

-

a/n: it's my first time writing y/n fic in a long ass time and this was originally written with an OC name but I wanted to switch it up. might turn this into a longer fic or do more snippets - lmk if y'all would be interested in something like that.

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