#3:31am

[actual-llamadrama]

Heyyyyyyy like fuckin time since I’ve been on here lmaoo.

Anyways

It’s 3:23am as I am typing this and I can’t help but over think the fact that I was not a good sister to my sisters. I mean yeah obviously I’m not gonna be a saint but like… none of them message me or try to call me or even keep a snap streak. I get it that one lives in England and the other is a teenager that doesn’t want to hang out with her older sibling. It sucks.. I can’t do anything about it.

I want to hurt myself because I feel like I’ve failed as a sister to them but I won’t because I’m not going to do that. I know I can feel these things that probably aren’t true and not do that to myself because I don’t want them to worry about me. They don’t need to have that on their shoulders.

Not like I can tell them this either.. or anyone else for that matter.. but yeah.. that’s what’s goin on in my head rn. I should probably just sleep.

[systemic-anomaly]

INTERNATIONAL TRAVEL IS IN YOUR FUTURE.

[chill--cat]

☕️🥞 🐹🎧

[chaimeanstea]

what ew no

I just meant that I don't care about the consequences.

I'll stay up for as long as I want.

fun fact! did you know that you can gain extra ‘forbidden time’ by staying up late in the night? but Watch Out

[emeraldcreeper]

Tired of being a sad little insomniac want to keep fucking around with retroarch despite the frustrating horrors and general pain that screens cause want to be asleep so bad but even the hat man eludes me and won’t knock me unconscious the same way anymore

[thebibliosphere]

I'm watching (well, listening) to a true crime show because my friend is super into it and wants someone to talk to about it, and I know I've complained about how my neurodivergent ass would never survive a police interrogation (assigned guilty for having ADHD and not being able to remember what I said five minutes ago and constantly adding new details to a story as I remember them), but this line legitimately made me laugh:

Police officer: the couple claimed to be doing DIY at night, but who does that? Who renovates their house at night?

Reader, it is 3:31am, and I am literally up a step ladder with a power drill 😂

Assigned guilty by delayed sleep phase disorder and a profound lack of impulse control.

[bowiepens]

as much as i love writing smut it also must be highly emotional in some way hfjgkfhgkjhgkfjhk

[btbonescanon]

after buck and eddie get together, eddie starts giving buck absentminded kisses all the time.

kiss on the forehead after he passes him his morning coffee. kiss on the cheek while buck is cooking dinner. kiss on the back of his hand as buck drives them to bobby’s house for a family bbq. kiss on top of his head while they cuddle watching a documentary. kiss on his shoulder while they sit on the station couch reading in between calls.

but buck’s favorite kisses? the ones edde blows him from a distance. when no one is looking during a call and they have to separate, buck doing evac and eddie treating some minor burns. when buck is pulling out of the their driveway to go meet maddie and jee for lunch and eddie sees him off from the front porch. during their family night out at the movies with chris in between them before the action film their son chose and they’re both probably going to hate begins.

every single blown kiss is always followed by eddie mouthing “i love you” at him, and every single time buck feels himself start to blush, the butterflies in his stomach staging a very chaotic and uncoordinated flash mob.

there’s something so exhilarating about knowing that no matter how close or far away they physically are eddie always wants to be kissing him. like eddie knows just as well as buck does that his lips were always meant to graze buck’s skin and leave behind goosebumps for hours to come.

even when they can’t see each other at all, buck knows eddie is thinking about it too because eddie does not go more than 3 hours without sending him little 😘 emojis. he doesn’t say anything else, doesn’t contextualize them because he doesn’t need to. it's just random 😘 throughout the day, scattered in between the rest of their texts.

buck [3:33pm]: got caught in traffic, chris and i will be there soon! eddie [3:33pm]: ok, hen and denny just arrived eddie [6:03pm]: 😘

&

eddie [11:27am]: can you write “chris dentist appointment” on the kitchen calendar for 10/17? buck [11:31am]: done! eddie [11:32am]: thanks, baby eddie [2:16pm]: 😘

&

buck [10:08am]: we also need eggs! buck [11:43am]: remind me to replace the lightbulb in chris’s bedside lamp eddie [1:14pm]: 😘 eddie [3:09pm]: your amazon package just arrived buck [3:09pm]: yaaaaaaay eddie [7:24pm]: 😘

&

eddie [6:02am]: 😘 eddie [8:56am]: 😘 eddie [9:07am]: 😘 eddie [12:31pm]: 😘 buck [3:17pm]: 😘😘😘

[meowshark12]

i know it won't work (rc)(3)

series summary: you're best friends with topper, kelce, and rafe. it has never bothered you to see them with other girls, knowing that they usually only have flings, but, when rafe gets what appears to be a girlfriend, how does this change things?

(not canon)rafe x kook!reader, original characters

chapter 3 summary: the after effects of Topper's party. I'll leave it at that.

warnings: rafe is pissing me off.

2.4k words, basically unedited.

1 2 3

chapter 3: why

...

Topper's party ends with you, Stella, and Macey walking back over to your house after the vast majority of the crowd had dissipated. All who remained there ended up crashing somewhere in the great unknown of Topper's parent's estate.

You wake up in your bed next to a snoring Macey and an already awake Stella, who greets you with a soft smile and your water bottle. You sit up.

"Thanks," you whisper, careful to not wake Macey. You take a few sips of your water, not realizing how thirsty you actually were. "what time is it?" you ask.

"only 8" Stella responds, which prompts you to lay back down (dramatically) and open your phone.

You are met with 11 messages from Topper from last night.

...

top

yoooooo wya??

sent 1:28am

yn. are you here

sent 1:31am

did you fr go home?

sent 1:32am

omfg I see ur light on.

sent 1:32am

you actual pos

sent 1:32am

kelce and rafe are asking where you guys went

sent 1:36am

they say they're coming over

sent 1:37am

I told them not to. why did you leave?

sent 1:41am

what's wrong.

sent 1:45am

pls respond.

sent 1:46am

ok gn then. dont be mad.

sent 2:19am

...

You sigh. Stella shoots a questioning look your way before you show her your phone and she understands.

Macey stirs, though it is much too early yet for her to arise. She hums in her sleep, probably to tell you guys to be quiet.

"what do I even say to all this?" you ask, nobody answers, but you didn't really need an answer. You knew that you would explain to Topper that you and the girls just needed a girls night, but you also knew that he wouldn't buy it for a second.

You respond to Topper, and ask if he would want to meet you at the club for lunch, somewhat disregarding his messages but knowing he would force you into talking about last night somehow. Topper may not be the brightest, but he is much more in tune with emotions than someone might think. He says yes to lunch, and you turn your phone off, satisfied with the way you bought yourself a few more hours.

You think about the best way to approach the subject with Topper. Because 'hey me and the girls don't like that beautiful girl that you and the boys hangout with and we want you all to ourselves because it works better that way' doesn't seem like the right thing to say. Topper texts you again, asking if you could do coffee and bagels instead. You take a minute to respond though you know you'll say yes anyway. You were hungry and did need a hangover-curing coffee, as did your girls, you were sure.

You reply a nonchalant 'sure' to Topper before telling Stella your plans and that you'll bring her and Macey back their faves. Topper offered to drive, so you begin your walk to his house.

As you open the fence and walk through, you see Rafe's truck pulling out of the driveway with Amber in the passenger seat. You have to stifle a reaction, but you did not expect to see Rafe and Amber interact ever again. Rafe was usually a one-night kind of guy, not a one-night and drive you home the morning after kind of guy.

You had heard your fair share of Rafe's escapades in your group's conversations, but nobody in the group ever seemed phased to hear about anyone else's hookup stories.

Though, there was the one time that you shared a story that the boys, and especially Rafe, were not fond of.

You had just turned 17, and had all begun the night drinking your beverages of choice and hanging out in Kelce's room, if you could even call it that. Kelce's parents only had one kid, and they let him have free reign of their finished basement. So, as you all sprawled on the various couches and chairs there was conversation flowing aimlessly throughout the group.

Though, you started out talking to the girls (who prompted you) about your recent endeavors with a boy named John, the boys begun listening after they realized the topic of conversation. You were never entirely open with the boys about your personal life, so they were completely intrigued with the conversation.

You paused partway through your long story before realizing that the three nosy boys on the other side of the room had stopped their conversation to listen to you. You laughed, saying a quick "stop listening!" before rolling your eyes and turning back to the girls. When you saw that the boys had no intention of stopping their listening, you turned back to them and didn't speak.

"Oh come on, yn, we never get to hear about this stuff!" Kelce begins, raising his eyebrows and giving you a look to try to persuade you to continue.

"Yeah, yn, you know all about our lives, how come we rarely get to know about yours?" Topper chimes in, agreeing with Kelce's sentiment. Rafe is quiet, not sure if he wants to hear what you are going to say, but his gaze on you is intent, almost silently willing you to continue talking.

"Ugh. Okay. Well..." you begin, without really knowing how to continue. All you had really told the girls was that you had hooked up with John Townsend, the boy whose parents were the sole contributors of the Kildare Yacht Club. But, the boys hadn't been listening to who, all they heard was that you had hooked up with someone.

"Go on..." Macey says, hoping her prompting will elicit a reaction out of you.

"We've just hooked up a few times. It's not that big of a deal." You spit out finally, waiting to see what your friends will say.

"A few times?!?" Stella nearly yells. "I thought it was only the one time at his house?" She finishes, waiting for you to say something. Before you can, Macey interrupts.

"His house?!? I thought it was only at the..." she starts before glancing at the boys, "...you know where I thought it was." she finished meekly. The boys erupt in a series of "what"s and "no way"s, turning to you for an explanation.

You laugh and cover your face with your hands, your cheeks turning a shade of red that you didn't even know existed before now. The boys are all slack jawed and waiting for you to talk.

"Oh what? Like you all haven't had your fair share of hookups??" You start, "why is this so crazy?"

"because its YOU, yn. You've never told us about this stuff before, even when we ask!" Topper says, still bewildered. You look between the boys. Rafe seemingly deep in thought, Kelce wide eyed, and Topper's mouth still hanging open.

You begin to defend yourself before you are cut off by Rafe asking "Who is this guy?" and that's when you realize that they hadn't been listening the whole time. Topper and Kelce hum to show that they also want to know. You look over at Stella and Macey, both of whom are making faces at you to show that maybe you shouldn't tell the boys who this mystery man is that you've hooked up with more than one time.

"Ummmmmmm..." you start, not intending to share with them.

"Fine. If you don't want to share, we'll just got through your phone and find out ourselves." Topper says, lunging toward your phone with an open hand.

You protest, holding it out of reach. Some semblance of a fight ensues, the girls trying to keep them away and the boys pushing through (to the best of their ability without trampling a bunch of 17 year old girls) to get to your phone.

"FINE!" you finally shout, stopping the fight. "If you really want to know that bad... it was John Townsend." You finish.

Rafe is the first to speak. "What?" He says plainly.

"Did you really not hear me?" you say.

"no, I think I heard you. I just- what??" he finally answers.

You look at the rest of the group, the girls looking relieved but worried, and the other boys looking somewhat the same as Rafe.

"What's the problem with John?" you ask innocently.

"What's the problem? Yn what's NOT the problem?" Kelce begins before Topper finishes his sentence.

"Yeah, yn, that guy is bad news. His parents might be hot shit in Kildare, but he's a weirdo. Especially for younger girls, like you." Topper says, not intending to hurt you with his words, but they do sting a little.

Rafe is still silent, and you look to him to say something. He avoids your gaze, waiting for the other boys to be done.

"I think they just mean that you should be careful, yn" Stella begins, trying to fix the tension in the room.

"No, Stel, we mean that she shouldn't be so stupid to fuck around with a dirty loser like that guy." Rafe finally speaks up, and his words hurt you the most. "I mean really, yn. Be serious right now."

You're on the verge of tears, not expecting to be belittled in front of your only friends.

"Alright that's enough dumbass." Macey says. "She's allowed to do whatever she wants and doesn't need approval from anyone, especially not you idiots."

You give her a small smile. You're not sure why Rafe's words affected you that much. You all are silent for a moment before conversation restarts. You excuse yourself to go to the bathroom, hoping to get your bearings back.

Stella and Macey follow not long after you, and soon you are all on the bathroom floor. They begin explaining to you that the boys were just being stupid and protective like they always were, and that it just got out of hand. You agreed, and soon everything was back to normal. But, you had always thought about that moment before beginning to share something with your friends from that moment on.

Overall, the relationships of your friends were private from your friend group. In a way, all of your most important relationships were with each other. So why would you want that to change? Nobody ever really had serious relationships anyway, and you all liked it that way. At least you thought you all liked it that way.

Soon after you see Rafe and Amber leave, Topper comes out of the house and sees you leaning against the passenger door of his Jeep.

He gives you a small smile before unlocking his car. You open the passenger door and get in.

Topper climbs into the driver's seat right after you. "Coffee first or bagels?" he asks, avoiding the obvious awkwardness between the two of you.

"Bagels, probably? I'm gonna get coffee for the girls too, don't want it to melt," you reply easily, since conversation with Topper has always come naturally for you. Topper nods, turning up the music that was playing and rolling down the windows.

The drive to get bagels was short, short enough that neither of the two of you had tried to initiate conversation, but long enough that the awkwardness began to brew. After getting bagels, you buckled yourself in and felt the rumble of the engine, but Topper didn't shift the car to begin driving.

You knew that leaving early normally wouldn't have been a big deal for other people. Especially since you lived right next door, it makes sense to sleep in your own bed after a party instead of cramming into one person's house. But, the six of you always stayed, and if you didn't, you wouldn't leave without saying goodbye.

"So," Topper begins, "what's up with you?" he says, not necessarily intending to blame you for leaving early, but maybe he knew it was your idea to leave.

"What do you mean?" you challenge, hoping he will give you some information before you explain yourself.

"I don't know, it's just weird that you guys left yesterday," he says, pausing to take in your reaction. You nod with him, understanding why he would be upset about it. "Why did you leave without telling us? I mean, we know you live right there, but that's just never happened before. We were kinda worried... Rafe suggested showing up to your house and then Kelce wanted to go with him, but I figured we should just leave you guys be." At the mention of Rafe, your ears perk up. Why had he of all people suggested going over? Wasn't he preoccupied with Amber?

"Yeah, I know we should've told you we left," you say honestly, feeling bad that you left him high and dry. "Honestly," you begin, and Topper is now staring at you, "we were just not exactly feeling it, it was kind of a weird vibe outside with you guys... and Amber... and I don't know, we just figured we would go back to mine kinda early," you pause, seeing Topper's gaze soften. "I'm really sorry though, Top. You know I didn't mean to leave you like that. We aren't mad at you, the vibe was just off and we felt weird still being there." you finish.

"Okay... well if that's really it, and you're not mad, then we are all good. We just don't want to mess around with a mad yn, or a mad Macey, for that matter." You laugh, glad to have been able to dance around the point enough to satisfy Topper's craving for an answer from you.

The two of you finish your coffee run and come back to your house to a wide awake Stella and Macey awaiting your arrival.

"Finally!" Macey says dramatically, as if she hadn't woken up ten minutes prior.

"I think she means 'thank you'" Stella explains while helping you with their drinks.

"You're welcome," you respond, and Topper trails in behind you. After the two of you made up, you figured you might as well invite him in for breakfast.

After the four of you eat together, a notification from your group chat lights up your phone.

...

rafe

ward not home. druthers today at 12?

...

Kelce has already responded 'yes' and the four of you are in agreement as well. Today was going to be a day on the boat. You were hopeful that this would be able to mend the crack slowly forming in the group of the six of you.

But, your hopes were soon crushed when you arrived to the Druthers and see Rafe and Amber awaiting your arrival.

You look at the girls, and they're already looking at you. You sigh, shrug, and hope that you all can make the best out of the day ahead of you.

🏷️list: @flvredcas @rafesno1bae @kiiyomei @silkylovey @girlwedontcare @sunny1616 @asterizee @pillowprincess4him @patychieffi @rafeslittleangel @anightlikethisss @drewsdirtyslut @mattyskies @theyluvmesblog @gothamgirl2024 @ujws5 @kmhbygss @kaiparkerwifes

a/n: hope you all keep enjoying! sorry for huge delay in posting. ill be back hopefully for a while!

[wileys-russo]

lessi blurb about being unable to sleep and not wanting to wake her but she gets up anyway and is just her usual sweet cute caring self? Soft lessi >>

insomnia II a.russo

of no ones fault but your own, you felt your body wake and your eyes fluttered open, snapping you out of a once dreamless and peaceful slumber.

eyes squinted and vision hazy you glanced over to the alarm clock on the bedside table, internally groaning as it read 3:19am.

laying your head back down on the pillow you carefully turned onto your side, the sight of your sleeping girlfriend beside you gracing your tired and weary gaze.

you lay watching as her chest softly rose up and down, long blonde hair sprawled across her pillow, smiling at how at peace she finally looked, her usual stress lines now smoothed out and unnoticeable.

football had been getting to her a lot lately with the stamp of uncertainty placed on her future with united, and with everyone and their mother feeling the need to leave their comments on the matter, it had hit her hard and the aftermath of stress, anxiety and general discomfort on the italian was somewhat tremendous.

but as alessia lay there, porcelain cheeks slightly tinted red, rosy pink lips pressed into a small frown, nose twitching every now and then, you couldn't help but melt. she was a work of art that you couldn't help but to constantly admire, and no matter how much she would blush and tell you to stop, the striker never having been someone that had been great at accepting compliments, you never would.

a sudden breeze whipped through the open window, the curtains fluttering with a soft rustle against the headboard as a chill shot through your body.

shivering lightly you pressed your body gently against your girlfriends, craving her body heat as she shifted slightly with a deep exhale at the intrusion.

tanned strong arms subconsciously wrapped around you and legs intertwining, you sighed contently, her nose pressed softly into the crook of your neck as you placed a tender kiss to her exposed shoulder blade.

moments like this were bittersweet. you treasured them when the two of you were together, but your whole being ached for them when you were apart.

your job solely based in manchester anytime alessia needed to leave for a tournament, camp or away match meant you had to be left behind, much as both your hearts yearned that to not be the case.

closing your eyes you settled into alessia's embrace, willing yourself to succumb to the urge of the warm bubble of her forever present love and fall back to sleep.

and though your eyelids were heavy, limbs tired and your body screaming out for sleep, it never came.

turning slowly in your girlfriends tight hold, careful not to disrupt her rest knowing she needed to be up early for training, you glanced tiredly over to the alarm clock again, 4:51am.

it seemed sleep was both your enemy and ally, it never came easily and when it finally did, it was never for long.

insomnia to you was neither a friend nor a foe just a familiarity you were used to, but never quite accustomed to. sighing tiredly you did your best to lull yourself back to sleep, trying everything from counting sheep to reciting the alphabet over and over in your head, but nothing worked.

glancing one more time at the dreaded alarm clock, 5:31am, you shifted restlessly.

quietly you carefully wiggled out of the english strikers grasp, breath hitching as she stirred for a moment, but simply pulled the duvet closer toward her and soundly slept on.

though you didn't wish to wake her you longed for her touch, but knew she needed the rest.

with a small struggle you tugged on a pair of joggers which lay discarded on the messy bedroom floor trudging out to the dark living room, already wearing an oversized lionesses jumper with your girlfriends last name sprawled across the back, you closed the bedroom door softly behind you.

deciding against flicking on a lamp, the soft light of an upcoming sunrise promisingly glowed through the balcony window of your shared apartment.

feet padding quietly against the polished hardwood floors you made your way into the kitchen. you wasted no time in clicking on the kettle for the water to boil, a hot cup of tea sounding incredibly enticing right now.

once it was done you wrapped both hands around the mug, cherishing the warmth that radiated from within as you left the cold tiles of the kitchen floor long behind you.

the chill of the early winter morning hitting your tired bones you collapsed into the chocolate brown worn leather sofa, the mangled smell of alessia's perfume and what you assumed to be mildew, piercing your nostrils.

but you didn't mind, it smelt of home and of love, but also of many sleepless nights you'd laid bundled in blankets unable to sleep and craving alessia's body next to yours, but she couldn't always be there.

feeling around for the remote you eventually dug it up from under the sofa, probably having fallen there discarded during one of yours and the strikers many makeout sessions, both of you needing constant physical reassurance meant that it was rare there wasn't at least one inch of skin touching the others.

clicking the TV on you mindlessly scrolled through the early morning talk shows, documentaries and other useless programs that were on at this time of day.

settling on an old re-run of a friends episode you grabbed one of the many fluffy blankets you always kept within reach of the sofa. manchester could be a beautiful place, but the cold winter mornings bit back with a frost that numbed even sock covered toes.

growing bored of the TV you muted the sound and wrapping the blanket tighter around you, poured yourself yet another cup of tea and wandered out to the balcony.

placing yourself gingerly down on the worn out double love seat you watched as the sun peaked over the horizon, shyly rising and bringing with it an array of dizzying colours.

scarlet reds, coral pinks, opaque yellows and soft oranges all blended together in aesthetically stimulating patterns across the sky as the suns soft glow melted away the bitter frost of the early morning.

abandoning the blanket you rose to your feet, stretching your still aching limbs as the sunlight grew brighter and the once magnificent colours of the sky began to fade.

still holding the now lukewarm cup of tea in your hands you sipped it leisurely, the sound of traffic already breaking up the once peaceful morning.

but by now you were long used to it and it had merely become a small whine in the background of a much bigger picture.

taking a deep breath you closed your eyes as the sunlight shone down masking your face with its gold inviting rays.

footsteps sounded behind you, the balcony door softly squeaked on its hinges as it was pushed open once more, arms wrapped around your waist and familiar lips gently kissed at your neck.

"g'morning love." the blonde rasped out tiredly, her now forever familiar accent calming you entirely.

humming in reply you took another sip of tea as her face buried itself in your shoulder, grip never loosening from around your waist.

"the bed was cold without you." she mumbled sleepily, fingers intertwining with yours, you subconsciously playing with her rings, one being a promise ring that matched yours. it was a habit you'd collected over the time you two were together, luckily she never minded claiming it also helped to calm her.

"couldn't sleep again." you admitted quietly, wanting nothing more than to close your eyes and drift off but it just wasn't going to happen.

"you should have woken me." the striker replied, worry lacing her voice as you turned in her embrace, arms wrapping around her waist as your cold nose met her warm one and her eyes crinkled a little with a gentle but concerned smile.

"you needed the rest." you replied truthfully as she merely rolled her eyes, knowing you were right but refusing to admit it. "well it's cold, come inside before you get sick." her hand found yours again as she tugged you back into the apartment, balcony door closing with another harsh squeak behind you.

pulling you down onto the sofa with her she assumed position of the big spoon, hands gently raking through your hair as your head fell to her stomach, body nestled between her bare legs.

your hands rubbing her thighs in an attempt to warm them up, her lips met yours in a sweet kiss before they lingered to your temple and she pulled away, leaning into the couch as you closed your eyes.

"i love you." you heard the three words fall from her lips as you opened your eyes and smiled softly up at her, repeating them back with just as much meaning.

"go to sleep my pretty girl, I'm right here." alessia ordered softly, the gentle drum of her heartbeat calming you as your eyes shut once again and the soft sounds of your girlfriends breathing filled the empty apartment.

hands still playing with your hair you felt your mind and body finally come to peace with one another and sleep start to kick in. the TV crackling quietly in the background you slowly drifted off, in the arms of the one you loved, her heartbeat matching yours.

[yokowan]

i had this optimization with drawing shadows where i would cast lines out from the vertices of a triangle in the direction of the light and then for each row only check for shadowed pixels inside that area. this is a HUGE performance optimization because it decreases the amount of pixels that need to be iterated over by like one to two orders of magnitude

but i have noticed a problem. it chooses which line to use as the left and right bounds of a shadow naively, just by selecting whichever line has the lowest and highest x coordinate in that particular row. this works 90% of the time but i had completely forgotten to account for this case in which the lines have opposite slopes. here, the shadow should be to the left of both of the lines everywhere. the only reason there's any shadow at all is because it also selects the wrong line. grumble grumble.

got back to this project btw. she works on linux!

[lesbianpepsi]

is this love?

pairing: Vada Cavell x fem!reader

summary: reader goes on Vada's laptop and finds something very interesting on it

words: 2.204k

warnings: mentions of sex, light swearing, bad writing, let me know if there's anything else

authors note: this is my first time writing for Vada so if she seems OOC i'm sorry💀

vada (1:31am) wher r u? 

me (1:33am): at home...? 

vada (1:33am): cum over 2 watch a movie 🙃🙃

vada (1:33am): come* lol

vada (1:33am): cum 👉👌

me (1:34am): hilarious. why do you want me over vads?

vada (1:36am): bord and snakish 

me (1:36am): it's half one in the morning

vada (1:36am): pls:( not evn for ur wife???💔

me (1:38am): what snacks do you want me to bring?

vada (1:38am): :D

vada (1:38am): takis, that choalet u like, waterlemon siur patch kid 

me (1:39am): okay, i'll be over in a few 

vada (1:39am): tyty

me (1:39am): 🙄🖤

vada (1:40am): 🤭🤭

You shook your head in amusement as you shoved your foot into your vans, soon after shoving your phone into the baggy hoodie you owned. 

Of course only for Vada -your girlfriend- you'd sneak out in the middle of the night to bring snacks and to watch movies.

The chokehold that girl had on you was beyond tight.

Grabbing your headphones, backpack, wallet and phone you silently sneaked your way down the stairs, you took painfully slow steps to make sure you wouldn't make a sound.

After what felt like an eternity you had made it outside with the key to the garage, you quickly went to unlock it and retrieved your broken blue bike. It was barley rideable, but still good enough for you.

You locked the garage, keeping the keys in your pocket before you began biking away towards the closest 7/11. 

The headphones placed on your ears filled the silence of the night with the sweet melody of Lana Del Rey.

After a handful of songs and halfway through White Mustang you arrived at the small store, it being the only twenty four hour store that was closest to yours and Vada's house.

You hopped off your bike before you entered, you had already memorised what Vada wanted. It didn't take you long before you were at the counters paying for the snacks, trying not to laugh at the clearly high worker who tried to act sober.

"Thanks." The worker gave a lazy thumbs up as he cracked an even lazier smile, you chuckled as you shoved your purchases into your backpack.

You sat back down on your bike as you checked on your phone to see three unread messages by Vada.

vada (1:43am): pls ride save 🚲🚲🚲🥽🥽🛟

vada (1:57am): jez what's takis so long?

vada (1:57am): 🪚

me (1:59am): 1) i will, don't worry❤️ 2) i have to ride to the store then to yours, plus my bike is shit. 3) no we're not watching saw, last time you watched it you got nightmares

vada (1:59am): ur alive!!!🧟‍♀️🚫

vada (2:00am): hury up 

You laughed to yourself as you kept your phone back into its original position, peddling away before you took your hand out of your pocket.

Lana Del Rey's mystical voice sung a few more songs in your ears before you arrived outside of the Cavell residence. 

You swiftly got off of the bike before you walked it up the pathway to keep leaning it against the wall. 

Opening the gate you silently walked over to the back door to where Vada was already waiting for you, smiling brightly when she noticed your presence. 

"Y/n! Hi!" She whispered yelled as she grabbed your wrist, pulling you into a hug. You smiled down at her as you wrapped your arms around her.

"Hey, Vads." You replied with a warm smile as butterflies flew around in your stomach at the contact.

The two of you stayed like that for a moment before Vada gazed up at you and stole a kiss from you before she headed towards the cabinets.

You took the moment for freedom to take off your shoes, placing them neatly in the corner of the room. 

 Vada went on her tippy toes as she reached two glasses from a cabinet, dropping them a bit too carelessly making you wince.

"Wanna do me a favour?" Vada asked as she grinned at you, hopping over to the alcohol cabinet as she took out a bottle of vodka.

You raised your eyebrows as you leaned against the counter. "Depends what that is." 

"Go on my laptop and choose a movie for us to watch while I make us our drinks." She said as she shook the bottle of vodka daringly in her hands.

You laughed as you nodded your head, pushing yourself off the counter. "You already know what I'm going to put on." 

"We are not watching Spider-Man again. I beg you." 

"Fine." You decided with a roll of your eyes, somewhat not surprised Vada didn't want to watch Spider-Man for probably the fifth time this week. 

Without a noise you made your way up the stairs and towards Vada's dimly lit bedroom. You shrugged off your backpack as you dropped down on Vada's snuggliest bed.

Her laptop was already on her bed so you thankfully didn't have to get back up, stretching until you reached it and swiftly pulled the laptop onto your lap.

You opened the laptop and immediately winced at the brightness, of fucking course Vada would put her laptop at full brightness at night. 

You hurriedly lowered the brightness until you could actually look at it.

That's when you noticed the laptop was making a noise.

The Sims theme played lowly, an audio that was instantly recognisable. You smiled as you noticed Vada was still in her world.

Deciding there was no harm in it, you began looking around the beautifully decorated house Vada had built. 

It was a perfect house for the family Tara had made.

The first sim you noticed was a toddler, a boy with y/h/c coloured hair and a freckled face. 

You smiled at how cute the sim was as your eyes flickered down to the corner of the screen where a small row of sims' faces was at.

Finding the toddler's face you hover the mouse over it to get the name of the sim.

Tod Y/l/n-Cavell

You blinked, then blinked again at the name.

Y/l/n-Cavell

No fucking way. 

Without hesitation you swiftly moved the mouse to hover over the next sim, a teenage girl who had dark brown hair.

Delilah Y/l/n-Cavell

A smug smile had appeared on your lips as your eyes gazed over to the two final remain sims. Promptly you clicked onto the next sim this time, which teleported you  over to where the sim was.

Your eyes widened as you noticed the name and what the sim was doing.

Y/n L/n-Cavell was the name given to the sim that you couldn't see since it was woohooing the last sim.

You purse your lips as you stifle a laugh, much slower than before you moved to hover the mouse over the final sim which heavily resembled Vada's face.

Not to your surprise, the name 'Vada Yl/n-Cavell' appeared as the mouse hovered over the sim. 

Just as you read the name a frantic Vada flung the door open as she practically dived in your direction, slamming the laptop closed on your lap.

With Vada half on you, half not, your eyes travelled down to her face, where you couldn't see her beauty since she was hiding it on the mattress next to your thigh. 

"Please tell me you didn't see a thing." She begged through a muffled voice, you closed your eyes for a few seconds as you tried to not let out a laugh.

Swallowing any hint of laughter you said: "I didn't see anything," A small snort of laughter escaped as you muttered. "Mrs Y/l/n-Cavell." 

Vada groaned loudly as she hid her face further into the bed, throwing her hands over her head as she tried to hide herself even further.

"I think it's adorable!" You said as you managed to stifle most of the laughter, Vada violently shook her head. "You're just saying that."

"No I'm not." Vada lifted her head as she gave you an unamused expression. "You're laughing."

"I'm not." You told her with a serious expression, the corners of your lift kept lifting as you fought a smile. "I just didn't expect to see a sim version of myself fucking a sim version of you." You managed to get halfway through the sentence before you let out a deep laugh, instantly covering your mouth with your hand to try to hide it. 

Vada groaned as she slammed her head back down to hide in the duvet. "I'm never showing you my face ever again." Vada declared to you, you smiled as you positioned your hand on top of Vada's hand.

"And how exactly are you planning to never show your face to me again?" You taunted her with a grin. 

"I'll just wear a mask everywhere like that weird Minecraft streamer." Vada exaggerated through a muffled voice as you tried hiding your laughter.

You shook your head mostly to yourself to try to stop laughing as you looked down at Vada. 

"And deprive me of that pretty face of yours?" Vada nodded her head, her head still hid in the sheets. "Yes. You better start getting ready to bang me with a mask on for the rest of your life."

"Is it at least a ghostface mask?" 

Vada stayed silent for a few moments, as if the words you said had actually gotten to her, before she shook her head.

"No! Making me horny won't make me forget about this." 

You mentally reminded yourself to carry on that conversation another time with Vada.  

"Vada, I promise you, it's not that bad. It's actually cute as shit." You insisted with no laughter that time, Vada slowly picked up her head to look up at you.

Her eyes narrowed on yours as she leaned against your thigh. "You're not bullshitting me?"

You smiled as you nodded your head enthusiastically at your girlfriend. "I'd never lie to you."

"It's still embarrassing." Vada whined as she snuggled further into your clothed thigh. You laughed lowly as you removed the laptop off of your lap, placing it onto the empty space next to you.

"The most embarrassing thing about it is that you actually think I'd let you name our child Tod." You jested with a humorous grin. 

Honestly, you didn't know what was going through Vada's choosing the name Tod. You'd rather name your child Howard, a name you more than less hate.

Vada gave you a hurt look as she perched up on your thigh to be able to get a better look of you.

"Tod is a magnificent name. You'd probably name our child something nerdy like Peter." Your smile shifted to give Vada a dirty look at her words. Just because I love Spider-Man, you thought to yourself with a groan.

"There's nothing wrong with the name Peter, meanwhile there's everything wrong with the name Tod." You argued light-heartedly, the corners of Vada's lips twitched upwards, she was trying to fight her smile.

Pride withered in you at that, Vada was starting to feel less embarrassed at the whole situation.

Raising her eyebrows she gazed into your eyes. "Fine. We'll just have to name our child something absolutely ridiculous then." 

You smiled amusedly as you nodded your head as if heavily interested in the conversation. "Oh yeah? Like what?" 

Vada pursed her lips for a few moments as she glanced away from your eyes, deep in thought. As if she had figured out a top secret code, Vada returned her eyes to lock with yours, joy swirling around in her eyes.

"Donut." Vada assured with a nod of her head. You stifled a laugh as you cocked your head to the side like a husky. "Donut?" You repeated in a teasing tone.

She nodded her head confidently. "Donut; the second love of my life." Vada confirmed with a goofy grin on her face. 

You smirked, your free hand moving to rest on Vada's scalp as you played with her soft hair. "Who's your first love then?" 

"C'mon you already know the answer to that. It's obviously Bela Dimitrescu." Without hesitation you shoved Vada's head down with the hand that was on her head.

Vada laughed as she dodged your hand as she moved it so the side, landing her head back down on the top of your thigh. "Don't worry, baby. You'll always be my number one girl."

You narrowed your eyes. "Even over Bela?"

She nodded curtly against your thigh. "Even over Bela Dimitrescu."

"What about Lady Dimitrescu?" 

Vada hissed as she closed her eyes momentarily before reopening them. "That's a tough one." 

You sighed as you nodded your head in agreement. "Alright I'll give you that since she is so fine."

"So fucking fine." Vada whispered in agreement.

You smiled at Vada who beamed back at you with joy, a true sight for the sore eyes.

"How about instead of watching a movie we play sims?" Vada grinned as she sat up, grabbing the laptop as she sat by your side. 

"I'm pretty sure my sim just impregnated yours so we can name our third child donut." Vada giggled as she opened the laptop back up.

You gave her a  puzzled look. Vada's sim impregnated yours?

Why the fuck aren't you the one who had a dick? 

"Why do I have to be the pregnant one?" You questioned as Vada began replaying the game. "I give off bigger dick energy than you."

You scoffed loudly at that, rolling your eyes. "Yeah right."

[man-im-so-high]

kimi writer era i am SEATED.

for the prompts!!!!: “You pretending that cushion is me?”

//EMPTY BED// - m.h. x reader

warnings: none! pure fluff!

w/c: 1k words

a/n: this is my first official blurb!! i'm shitting my pants posting this 💀 ANYWAYS THANKS JAYE FOR BEING MY FIRST REQUEST ILYSM

//masterlist//

the clock kept ticking, driving you mad.

on the one hand whenever there's shitty moments or nothing happening at all, time won't pass - it stretches like gum. on the other hand, the good moments pass way too quickly. time itself is pacing, always.

right now time won't pass though.

you've been alone at matty’s concrete bunker of a home for a month already now. the longer you spend your time here, the more you realize that it's actually quite cozy somehow. everything in itself seems cold and harsh but together it creates some sort of comfortable, relaxing and balanced atmosphere.

but without matty it's once again cold and harsh. it's like the whole house loses its charm when he's not here.

the bed is colder than usual, everything is quiet - no music playing from his vinyl player, no typing on the typewriter, no jamming on his guitar, nothing - there's no smell of pancakes in the kitchen, the bathroom doesn't smell like his perfume and there is no mess. you're surprised that a thing that usually pisses you off has now become something you miss.

so here you are, on his couch, cuddling with a pillow while the TV is on in the background. there's some sort of reality tv show on but you didn't pay attention to it, you just need noise, the feeling of not being alone.

matty is currently on tour in north america. with you having to stay in london, seeing him is nearly impossible. only nearly though, but seeing him on facetime or hearing his voice on a simple call is surprisingly very hard as well.

on his days off it's easier. he's more flexible with his time management when there is no huge concert at night with the sound checks and everything beforehand.

he's currently in new york, playing one of their biggest shows ever tonight. he's excited, you know that. he has been excited for months now, basically ever since he found out that they could play there.

“i can't wait, oh my god. i will literally- explode!”

“on stage?”

“fuck yes i will, just imagine: we play sex and i just explode.”

“twitter would eat that up.”

“right?!”

but he has also been worried.

worried because it's a huge venue, worried because it's being recorded, worried because you're not there to calm his mind.

you glance at the TV - advertising, of course. you peek over at your phone. it's 3:24 am. usually you'd be lying in bed together at this time, cuddling, in deep sleep.

but right now the bed is cold - ice cold - and the cool concrete walls don't make it any better. you love this place but it's not the same without him.

you calculate in your mind. he's in new york, you're in london so the concert must be over by now. thus the waiting continues.

you look back to the tv. the reality tv show is over and now there's some sitcom playing. it's friends! finally, something funny to help you pass time.

a few minutes pass and your phone lights up. 3:31am.

“hey, you awake?”

another text

“concert’s over”

you instantly grab your phone.

“i'm awake! hope you had fun xx”

he quickly answers and asks:

“you wanna ft when i'm at the hotel?”

“of course :))”

finally you decide to turn off the TV and let silence and darkness take over the room. you take the cushion you've been lying on and holding and make your way up to the bedroom.

instantly, you miss matty. he's a living heater - and a comfortable one to say the least.

so when you lay back down, you lay on the cushion as if you were lying on matty's chest. if you squeeze your eyes shut, just enough, then you can almost hear his heartbeat. or maybe it's just your lack of sleep, who knows.

the tiredness comes creeping in, a yawn escapes your lips. in the same moment your phone lights up.

a facetime call by no other than matty.

happily you pick up.

“good morning, sunshine” an exhausted smile on his lips. he's happy to see you but the weariness from performing is evident.

his hair is damp, he probably just came out of the shower.

he's in bed as well, the bedside table lamp illuminating his face with a warm light from the side, throwing soft shadows on his face.

“good night” you tiredly greet him, a smile adorning your face when you see him.

“how was the concert?”

“oh it was great!” he started to ramble about the crowd, how the band harmonized, how the security and the whole team was great and how everything was perfect.

his soft voice and his endless talking could send you to sleep right then and there-

“hey! no sleeping yet! tell me about your day… or night.”

“uh, i didn't do anything special. i just laid around and was on my phone, i watched some TV and laid on this cushion because you're not there.” you point at the cushion that you're currently lying on.

matty seems to recognize the way you're lying on the cushion.

“wait, wait, wait, are you pretending that cushion is me?”

“maybe, i did. but then i had to realize it's a better cuddler than you are.” you tease him.

he laughs at that. “you're just saying that because you already forgot how good i am.”

a loud yawn leaves your mouth.

“is someone getting tired?” he chuckles and grins. you're so cute when you're tired.

“what do you expect? it's late.”

“get some sleep, sleepyhead.”

“can you stay on the phone with me?”

his grin grows even wider, he could melt at your cuteness.

“of course i will.”

a short moment of silence.

“so, what do you want me to do?”

“i don't know, just talk. tell me a story or something.”

and that's what he does. he knows you know all the stories, he loves talking - you love listening. he talks and talks, his voice almost as soft as the cushion you're resting on, slowly lulling you to sleep.

[havemybackanyday]

I started thinking about Buck texting Bobby every time he woke up, and my hand slipped.

---

Bobby is just beginning to prep breakfast at the station when his phone pings.

7:26am hey everything ok

It doesn't click right away—Bobby’s first assumption being that Buck is missing the job, maybe feeling a little left out. 

7:27am Yeah, everything’s fine here. Shift just started, you’re not missing much. Are you ok?

He watches as the three dots pop up and then disappear a couple times, and then puts his phone down to stir the eggs. He’s almost forgotten about it by the time the response comes in.

7:34am just checking

It’s then that the penny drops, and the realization breaks Bobby’s heart a little. He opens his camera and flips it around, taking a surreptitious selfie with A shift seated at the table in the background. Chim is gesturing animatedly, and Eddie is chuckling into a coffee mug while Hen rolls her eyes. In the foreground is half of Bobby’s own face, forgetting to smile as he concentrates on framing the shot. 

He sends the picture off to Buck.

7:36am We’re all here, all safe. We miss you. thanks bobby. miss you guys too

The next one comes in the following morning, just as Bobby is pulling into his driveway.

7:31am hey Hey, kid. All good here. ok, great sorry thanks No need, Buck.

Bobby knows there’s something Buck isn’t telling him about the coma dream and his place in it. When Bobby had asked him about it at the hospital, he’d been cagey, and since Buck got home, Bobby feels like he’s being tracked—like if Buck doesn’t know where Bobby is at any given moment, Bobby might vanish into thin air… or Buck might.

Bobby can be an anchor. He’s had practice.

2:12pm all good? All good.

They fall into a routine, where Buck will text “hey” whenever he wakes up and Bobby will reply with a checkmark emoji. It’s soothing for Bobby, too—this way, he knows Buck is sleeping, and gets a rough idea of when and how much. There’s always a text in the morning, and more often than not, a message also comes through in the afternoon. 

A couple days in, the afternoon text arrives while the 118 is on a call. Nothing serious, but several cars are involved, and Bobby is flitting around the scene, directing his people back and forth to where they’re needed. By the time he wraps up, Eddie is sitting half inside the truck and holding his phone, a concerned look on his face.

“Cap?”

Bobby pulls his own phone out of his turnouts.

3:42pm hey

3:48pm hey, bobby?

3:52pm i know it’s fine and i know you’re probably on a call but lmk if you’re ok when you can

3:54pm please sorry

Bobby takes a quick selfie with Eddie. Neither of them is smiling, but it’s not annoyance—it’s the same way they’d be looking at Buck if he were here, handling the call with them. No performing, just an ordinary moment in time. 

He sends it over.

4:09pm Sorry to make you wait. We’re good.

He looks up from his phone, and Eddie is watching him with pinched eyebrows. Wordlessly, he flips his phone around to show Bobby his own string of texts from Buck. Bobby sees his own name in the thread several times.

“How’s he doing?” Bobby asks.

Eddie blows out a breath and settles his elbows on his knees. “He’s… working through some stuff,” Eddie says, looking back at the text thread. He’s silent for a long moment, and then huffs a rueful laugh. “He seems rattled, which is pretty understandable. But beyond that, I don’t think he knows what he needs yet.”

“Well, until he tells us differently, the best thing we can do for him is to be here, and be us.”

Eddie nods, and they both swing into the engine.

That night, the ping of Bobby’s phone wakes him from a deep sleep in the station house bunks.

2:20am hey you awake

Bobby rubs a hand across his face. I am now. You ok? sorry i woke you No, don’t be. I’d rather you reach out.

Buck doesn’t respond; the three dots don’t even appear.

2:22am Did something happen? You alright?

2:24am just a nightmare You want to tell me about it? nah maybe later glad you’re ok, get some sleep

Bobby locks his phone and stares at the ceiling in the dark. He isn’t sure how much time passes, but at some point he resigns himself to the fact that his swirling worries won’t resolve themselves into anything legible right now. He swings his legs out of bed and heads upstairs to the kitchen.

Five hours later, he pulls into a parking spot outside of Buck’s apartment complex, a pan of cinnamon rolls in the passenger seat.

“Hey, Bobby.” Buck looks tired when he swings open the door, circles under his eyes, smile a little faded. 

“Hey, kid. Brought you something.” Bobby peels back a corner of the foil covering the cinnamon rolls, and watches as Buck’s eyes brighten.

He laughs and gestures to the piles of food on the kitchen island. “I don’t know if I’ve even got space for those, but I’ll move some of this out to the balcony if I have to.”

Bobby hands the pan over, and Buck lifts out a roll immediately, taking a huge bite that leaves icing on his lip. “Mmmmh. God. Thank you.”

He can’t help a smile at Buck’s enthusiasm. “Anytime.”

There’s a moment of quiet while Buck wedges the pan onto the overloaded island and finishes his roll. He’s licking his fingers and avoiding Bobby’s eyes when he says, “Sorry again for waking you up.”

“Buck.” Bobby waits for him to look up. “Don’t be. We’re all here for you—and not just because you got hurt. We’re here whenever you need us.”

Buck pauses, index finger still in his mouth. He pulls it out and says in a rush, as if racing his own hesitation: “You were dead. In my coma dream, you were dead. Because Hen and I never came to your apartment that day.”

“Okay,” Bobby says, nodding neutrally as the memories wash over him. The shame of waking in the shower. The helplessness of placing his pain in his coworkers’ hands. The rock-steady warmth of Buck and Hen on either side of him.

A vise tightens around his heart.

“Is that why you’ve been checking on me?”

Buck has the gall to sound ashamed of himself when he says, “Yeah.”

“Buck, you know—hey. Look at me, this is important.” Buck, who has shifted his gaze to someplace over Bobby’s right shoulder, drags his eyes back. “You know that my sobriety isn’t your responsibility, right?”

Buck nods. “I know, and I’m not trying to… fix things, or control things I can’t. I just…” He trails off, and his eyes are shining. “I don’t want to wake up again in a world that doesn’t have you in it. This version of you, I mean.”

“Oh, kid, c’mere.” Bobby steps forward and wraps Buck in a hug. 

God damn anyone who ever told this kid that his heart was a problem. 

When they finally let go of each other, Bobby holds on to Buck’s shoulders. Buck sniffs, and swats a tear off his cheek with the palm of his hand. 

“You’ve been through a lot, and I know you’re still sorting it out. But I also know how stubborn you are when you’re chewing on a problem,” Bobby says, drawing a wet laugh out of Buck. “I know you’ll find your way through it. And we will all be here for you. Every step, however long it takes.”

Buck nods, and breaks into a hesitant smile.

“And in the meantime, let us spoil you a little.” Bobby gives Buck’s shoulder a light jab with his fist. “We don’t want to wake up in a world without you, either.”

[whiskey-tango-matcha]

Then & Now (M, cold)

Hiii, hope you like A LOT of hurt followed by 2-3 sentences of comfort lmao. This is Greyson fic - Grey is sick on a day he and Reed are supposed to have a date, and he's sure Reed is going to be angry with him because Trauma(TM). It's told in a flashback sort of format which I really enjoyed because I love writing blurbs of colds at different times in life lol. I hope you guys like it, please let me know what ya think, good, bad, or otherwise :)

CW: Male snz, cold, pneumonia mention, coughing, contagion mention, lots and lots of whump lmao. A little over 4K words under the cut.

Then & Now

Now

“Morning, Chef.”

“Huh-! HhITSZHH-ue!”

Elijah turned towards Greyson, who was doubled over into his hoodie sleeve, and gave him a sympathetic grimace. “Cooks finally pulled you under, hmm?”

“Ugh, like way fuckin’ under,” Greyson muttered, rubbing his eye and sucking in through his nose. “I feel like ass.”

“Sorry, dude,” Elijah said, tossing his counterpart a box of tissues. “Sucks.”

Greyson caught the box and pulled out a few just in time. “HITSZHZH-uhh!” This one, he managed to catch in the handful of tissues. He wiped his nose and shrugged. “Yeah,” he said, tossing the used tissues. “Mbostly because I was supposed to have a date tonight.”

Elijah smirked at his friend, who was pushing past the GM into their shared office. The two of them sat in unison. “Do you guys still call them dates? You’ve been official for, like, six months.”

“It’s our six-month anniversary,” Greyson said, his voice flattened by congestion. “We were going to do EMP.”

“Awww, now I’m depressed,” Elijah said. “Also, why didn’t you tell me earlier you were going to Eleven Madison? I still know people there.”

“So does Reed,” Greyson said, massaging his temple. “That’s why we were goigg. Fuck, mby fuckin’ head is pounding. Do we have any -?”

Elijah placed the ibuprofen in front of the chef before he could ask, along with a bottle of cough syrup and a decongestant. “You know we have it all,” he said, pushing an old cup of water across the desk for Greyson to swallow his arsenal of pills. “And fair enough. Well that fuckin’ sucks, dude, I’m sorry. Hey, at least you can leave early, right? Matt’s closing?”

“Yeah,” Greyson said, unwrapping a cough drop and popping it in his mouth. “I’ll head out once the rush is over. I still have to text Reee – hh...hhNTSHH-ue! HGTSHH-uhh!” Greyson doubled over, sneezed into his arm, and groaned. “I’mb gonna kill the guys when they get in,” he said, mostly to himself.

“Don’t do that,” Elijah said, placing a hand on Greyson’s shoulder on his way out of the office. “Then you’ll have to stay all night.”

Greyson huffed out a laugh and pulled out his phone. He clicked on his conversation with Reed, sighing. He did not want to have this conversation.

Greyson

9:31AM

hey babe. gonna have to cancel tonight, the cooks infected me w their plague :( im rly sorry.

The chef set his phone on the desk, prepared to either be ghosted or gaslit – two of Collin’s favorite pastimes whenever Greyson had had to cancel their plans during their relationship – and was shocked when the phone buzzed with a text almost immediately. He was almost afraid to look at his boyfriend’s response.

Reed

9:32AM

Oh, baby don’t be sorry!! what time are you off? I’ll pick you up and take you home :) we can do a sick day little date night instead!

Greyson stared at the phone, stunned. He couldn’t help it; he read the message again, then out loud said, “What the fuck?”

Then – Ten Years Ago

“Chef?”

The Executive Chef looked up from his paperwork at Greyson and sighed. “What is it, Abbott?”

“I, um – hh! HTSHH-uh! HGXTSH-ue! Snf. Umb, I just wanted to see if it was okay if I… left a little early today?” Greyson asked, his voice barely above a whisper. His chef raised his eyebrows and put his clipboard down. Oh, no, Greyson thought.

“Leave...early? And leave your clean up and prep to whom, exactly? Me?” The Executive Chef huffed out a laugh. “That’s rich, Abbott. Why the fuck would you need to leave early?”

“I…” Greyson started, but his voice gave out on the single syllable. He attempted to clear his throat. “I just… I really feel like shit? I was hoping I could, like… sleep it off, I guess. I mbean, I wouldn’t want to get anyone else sigck.” Greyson felt a cough bubbling to the surface; he tried to quell it, to no avail. The younger man collapsed into a coughing fit that felt like it lasted a lifetime.

The Chef remained unmoved. “My guys,” he said, placing a hand on his chest as Greyson attempted to compose himself, “don’t get sick, Abbott. And if they do, I don’t fucking hear about it. Understand? Because I really don’t give a shit. If you’re here, you’re here. If you decide to leave early,” he shrugged, uncaring, “then you leave for good. And Abbott, if you try to get a job after walking out of my kitchen, I promise you I will make it impossible. I know you’ve only been here a couple months, but here’s what you need to learn: put your head down and do your fucking job, and you can work anywhere in the world after this. Be a whiny piece of shit who tries to walk out on his shift, and you’ll be working at McDonald’s for the rest of you life. Got it?”

Greyson, too shocked to rebut, just bobbed his head up and down.

“Let me hear you say it,” the Chef said. Greyson cleared his throat.

“Yes, Chef,” he said. The Chef nodded.

“Now get the fuck out of my office.”

Now

“Elijah. Look at this text.”

The GM looked up slowly from the iPad where he was going over reservations for the evening. “...Why?” he asked, taking the phone from Greyson’s hand.

“Just look. Tell mbe that’s ndot weird,” Greyson said, crossing his arms over his chest. Elijah looked down, confused, and read the text. He pinched his eyebrows together just a little, and read it again. “See? Isn’t that weird?”

“Greyson…” Elijah said, handing the phone back. “That’s not weird.”

“Seriously?” Greyson asked, reading the text yet again. “It’s bizarre. He’s ndot even a little mad? C’mon. That’s weird.”

“He’s being sweet,” Elijah explained, slowly, as though he were talking to a toddler. “Did you want him to be mad? Because that’s bizarre.”

“Ndo I don’t want him to be mad. I jus – HTSZHH-ue! HRRSHH!” Greyson wrenched to the side to sneeze, which sent him into a fit of hacking coughs. “I just figured he’d want to, like, yell at mbe or something. For canceling,” Greyson finished, his voice strained against another cough. Elijah didn’t respond, not at first, and instead pressed a hand onto the chef’s forehead.

“I think you’re sicker than we thought, because you’re acting fucking delusional,” he said as Greyson slapped his hand away. “Greyson, normal people don’t yell at each other for getting sick, or having to cancel a plan. That’s, like, really twisted.”

Greyson rolled his eyes. “It’s ndot twisted, Lij you fuckin’ drama queen,” he said, then held up a finger. “Onesec – hh! Hh...hnn.” Greyson sniffled, a let out a little irritated cough. “Lost it.”

“Go back to the kitchen,” Elijah said, pointing towards the swinging doors. “Sit down. Rest. Let your medicine kick in. I don’t want people seeing this -” he gestured to Greyson, as if to allude to his entire being – “when they walk past the restaurant. Alright? Text your boyfriend something nice. Not something unhinged.”

“Oh, fuck you,” Greyson muttered, turning toward the kitchen, his phone still open to the conversation with Reed. He turned towards Elijah again before pushing through the kitchen doors. “I still say that this is the unhinged thing.”

“Go to therapy, Greyson,” Elijah said, not looking up from the iPad. Greyson rolled his eyes, pushed into the kitchen, and regarded his phone once again.

Greyson

10:07AM

thanks, babe. it’s ok, I can take care of myself. it wont be a long day, ill just grab some nyquil omw home and sleep it off. ill reschedule our rezo too, don’t worry about that. im really sorry again for canceling. if I could taste the food id still go lol.

Figuring that sounded at least relatively normal, Greyson hit send. He sat down at his desk once again and placed his head in his hands. No way he’s not pissed, Greyson thought, and he really believed it. In all his years of dating, he’d never met anyone who would respond that way; they’d at least have a snippy remark about the last-minute nature of the cancellation.

Greyson’s phone pinged once again, and he couldn’t help but grab it right away to assess the damage.

Reed

10:08AM

honey, please don’t apologize, seriously. youre sick, it happens, its no biggie :) I already moved the reservation to next week but if we need to ill move it again. james at emp said to tell you feel better btw.

Greyson blinked, dumbstruck. He started typing without thinking.

Greyson

10:10AM

you REALLY arent mad? seriously?

Reed

10:10AM

im really not mad. who gets mad at someone for being sick…? is someone at work mad at you? am I supposed to be mad..? lol

Greyson

10:11AM

I mean its a last minute cancellation. id understand if u were mad.

Reed

10:11AM

welllll….im not. is that ok? haha

Reed

10:15AM

grey…? you believe me, right?

Reed

10:21AM

greyson..?

Then – Seven Years Ago

He was moving through molasses.

Greyson placed a sluggish hand to his own forehead – you can’t check yourself for a fever, dumbass – and blinked painfully. He’d made it to work, he’d made it through the day, and he’d made it back home, against all odds. Now, he was stuck on his couch, unable to even crawl to the bathroom for a thermometer.

It had all compounded on him, was his guess. The endless fourteen hour days for the better part of two years at his thankless sous chef job. The shitty Chicago-suburbs apartment with no heat, where he froze for the few hours a week he slept. The near-constant drinking. Sure, he was only twenty-five, but what was it they said about this industry? It ages you in dog years. Yeah, that was it.

“Hh-! Hh...ITSZHH-ue! HTSHHH-ue!” Greyson sneezed helplessly into the blanket he’d wrapped around himself, and groaned. This was not what he’d imagined when he moved here from Minnesota. He’d thought it would be glamorous, working as a sous chef at a high-end hotel in a big city. He thought he’d have friends, or a girlfriend, or something. Instead, he was trapped on his couch, benched by a sinus infection and seasonal depression that seemed to last the whole year round. Fuck this, Greyson thought. He couldn’t get off the couch, but he could reach his phone; Greyson pulled up Indeed and changed his search parameters.

Actively searching for work. Location: Any.

Now

“Um… Chef? What’s, uh… what’s going on?”

Greyson paused for a moment, a crate of spoiled food held on his shoulder. He turned towards Matt, keen to answer, but instead held the crate tighter and wrenched to the side. “HRTTSHH-uh!”

“Bless you,” Matt said, an automatic reaction. Greyson nodded, turned towards the dumpster, and dumped the food in before beginning the cycle anew: pick up crate. Turn to sneeze. Dump old food. Matt wasn’t sure if he should help his boss, or go inside for backup.

He chose the former, picking a crate filled to the brim with rotten tomatoes off the ground and hoisting it into the trash. “You gonna tell me what’s up?” he asked as the two of them continued gathering and tossing.

Greyson sighed, pulled a hand down his face, and shook his head. “I thingk Reed and I are over,” he said, voice soft and throaty. Matt’s eyebrows shot up.

“What? Seriously? What did you do?” Matt asked, prompting a stuffy laugh from his boss.

“I just don’t thingk it’s going to work,” Greyson said, shrugging. “I… I don’t want to, like, play gambes. I can’t do that again, ndot after Collin.”

“Chef,” Matt said as he gathered and tossed the last milk crate, “what are you talking about? Reed is, like, the most straight-shooting guy I’ve ever met. How is he playing games?”

Greyson, left without anything to occupy his hands, just shrugged and pulled out his phone. He handed it to Matt without explanation, and the sous quickly read through the text conversation Greyson and Reed had going. Matt furrowed his brow.

“I don’t get it,” he said, handing the phone back. “He wants to take care of you, what’s the problem with that?”

“He doesn’t want to take care of me, he wants to have the upper hand,” Greyson explained, pulling out a pack of cigarettes and sitting on the step just outside the back door. “Want one?”

“Sure,” Matt said, sitting beside his boss. “I mean, you shouldn’t be smoking if you’re -”

“HTSHH! Hh-! ITZSHH-ue!” Greyson turned into his elbow, taking a long moment to gather himself before handing Matt his cigarette.

“-sick,” Matt finished. The older man shrugged, and Matt plucked the lighter out of Greyson’s hand to light both of them up, not daring to push his boss any closer to the edge. For a moment, they smoked in silence, only Greyson’s sniffles and coughs interrupting the quiet.

“Boss,” Matt said, finally, “I think you need to talk to Reed.”

“I did,” Greyson said, stubbing out his cigarette. “You saw.”

“No, I mean actually talk to him,” Matt said. The two of them stood, looking at each other – a face-off without the malice. Matt continued. “Not ignore his texts and clean out the walk-in.”

Greyson scoffed. “Matt, just because you have sombe fairy-tale love story doesn’t mbean everyone else does, too. Okay? If it’s over between me and Reed, it’s fine. I’mb better off alone, anywaa – hh! Hh… Hhhii-!” Greyson stood with his elbow poised at his face, stuck in pre-sneeze agony for what seemed like an eternity. While he was incapacitated, Matt took his phone and typed out a message that his boss couldn’t see. Finally, Greyson lowered his arm and sucked in, fruitlessly, through his nose. “The fugck are you doigg?” he asked, snatching his phone back from his sous.

“If you’re not going to talk to Reed,” Matt shrugged, unapologetic, “I will.”

Greyson looked down at his phone, which buzzed twice in his hand. Reed’s face popped up on the screen. Call from: reed <3

Then – Three Years Ago

“HTSHH! Huh! ETZSHH-ue! HRTTSHH-ue!”

“Bless, bless, bless you. Allergies?” Collin asked, not looking up from his phone. Greyson sniffled in vain, and coughed painfully.

“Ndot exactly,” he croaked from the doorway to Collin’s living room. “Baby, do you thingk you could drive mbe to urdent care, actually?”

Collin looked up and slowly raised an eyebrow. “For what?” he asked, obviously annoyed. Greyson swallowed as best he could and placed a hand on his throat.

“I thingk… I mbight have strep. Or bronchitis, or sombething. I, uh… I’ve had a fever for like. A week.” Greyson had to stop to close his eyes and grab onto the door frame, a sordid attempt to keep from hitting the floor like a rotten sack of potatoes. Collin rolled his eyes.

“You’re such a drama queen. You seemed fine when you came over last night.”

“You were asleep whend I came over,” Greyson said, his eyes still closed. “Did you ndot notice that I haven’t been over in like five days?”

Collin shrugged. “I mean, yeah, but I figured you were busy with work. You’re always busy with work,” he said, the venom in his voice making clear that he wanted to fight.

Greyson, physically incapable of fighting at that moment, just slid slowly to the ground and nodded. “Yeah. You’re right,” he said. “Ndow I’m paying the price. Please, baby. Can you please just take me? I… I really don’t feel well.”

It was pathetic. He knew it, but he couldn’t stop himself; he was fairly sure he was moments from passing out. Collin turned and made himself comfier on the couch.

“I’ll call you an uber,” he said, pressing some buttons on his phone. “You barely make time for me, and now you’re asking me to be your chauffeur? Please, Greyson.” He showed his ailing boyfriend the phone. “He’ll be out front in five minutes. Better make your way down.”

“Okay,” Greyson said, pulling himself slowly to his feet. “Thangk you.”

Collin didn’t say a word as Greyson let himself out of the apartment. He made it downstairs, and into the uber, and into the waiting room at urgent care. He made it out by himself, too, with a laundry list of prognoses – strep, sinus infection, walking pneumonia – and a handful of prescriptions. When he texted Collin later to fill him in, his boyfriend didn’t text back.

Greyson fell asleep on his shower floor and awoke to freezing water pounding on him, and a courier pounding on his door. When he toweled off and answered it, chicken soup from the local bodega and a note that read feel better -c sat at his feet. Greyson breathed a sigh of relief; at least he had been forgiven.

Now

Reed had dated plenty of men is his thirty-five years of life, and had found that there were two general categories when it came to sick men: there was the Baby, and there was the Don’t Look at Me.

Greyson though, an enigma since the moment they met, seemed to fall into a third category, a category that was, to Reed, yet undiscovered: the You Hate Me.

Reed was good with the first two categories; the Don’t Look at Me, you left medicine outside their room and texted them funny memes. The Baby, you laid in bed with them and spoon-fed them soup. Easy. Understandable. Truthfully, this was one of his favorite things about men: they were easy to crack. He figured Greyson would likely fall into the Baby category, which was fine by him – there was nothing he’d like more than to look after an ailing Greyson, to be honest. This third category he seemed to embody, though, was not something Reed knew what to do with.

“He didn’t answer when I called him,” Reed said into the phone receiver. “I just want to know what’s going on, I mean, did I say something wrong?”

On the other end of the line, Elijah sighed. “No, you didn’t do anything wrong. This is just… it’s just Greyson being Greyson.”

Reed wasn’t about to take this lying down. “Hey, are you guys super busy tonight? I mean, I don’t want to be that boyfriend, but, like, can I come get him? We really need to talk, and if what Matt said is true he probably shouldn’t be, like, working anyway, right?”

While Elijah paused, Reed pulled the phone away from his ear and once again re-read the text Matt had sent from Greyson’s phone: hey reed, it’s matt. grey is sick as hell, so DO NOT take any of the crazy weird shit he says seriously, k? his temperature needs to lower by like 5 degrees before you do this, but u guys need to actually talk. he’s being stupid.

“Please,” Reed heard Elijah’s tinny voice on the other end and put the phone back to his ear. “Please, come and collect him. I’m begging.”

Reed stood from the couch and grabbed his keys. “Give me twenty minutes. I’m on my way.”

Then – Two Years Ago

“Heyyy, baby, cand I buy you a dringk?”

The girl leaned back, her face marked by disgust. “No, thanks. Save your money and get yourself some NyQuil,” she said, disappearing into the crowd. Greyson huffed out a sigh and coughed into his hand – a long, crackling sound that made the other bar patrons inch their chairs away.

“She’s right, you know,” the bartender – Skip, Greyson had learned his name was a few weeks back when he had started coming in every night – said, filling Greyson’s shot glass yet again. “You need to go home.”

“And yet you pour mbe another drink,” Greyson said, knocking back the shot. “The duality of mban. NGTXSH! HTSHH! Huh-! HRRSHH-ue!” Greyson covered his mouth lazily with one hand, wiped it on his pants, hand held the glass up to indicate ‘another’.

“Bless you,” Skip said, not pouring the shot. “Greyson, seriously: go home. You sound fucking awful.”

“Are you cutting mbe off?” Greyson asked, his rheumy eyes meeting Skip’s over the bartop. “Because unless you are, I’mb staying.” He coughed again, into his elbow; the cough was quickly becoming a problem. He’d had a cold two weeks ago; the symptoms had been mild, but the cough had hung around. When he caught whatever-the-fuck this was two days ago, the cough had turned from an annoyance to a pressing issue; he should go home. He should go to the doctor, he should take a day off, he should, he should, he should.

But he wouldn’t. He would stay, and he would drink until he was kicked out, then he’d pass out on the train and not make it home to sleep. He’d go to work at seven AM and stay until midnight and do it all again.

“I’m not kicking you out,” Skip sighed. “I’m just saying… you should take care of yourself.”

Greyson blinked slowly. He could feel his lungs, heavy with fluid, gearing up to cough again; his head, pounding in spite or because of the alcohol; his heart crushed into a million, Collin-sized pieces. Take care of yourself. It felt impossible, when you’d never been shown how.

“This is mbe taking care of myself,” he said, clearing his throat. “I’ll have another.”

Now

Greyson rested his head on a case of lettuce in the corner of the walk-in. He knew he should be continuing his madness of cleaning, but he’d accidentally sat down on his fifth trip into the refrigerator, and now he wasn’t sure he’d be able to get up again.

Fucking Reed, Greyson thought as he allowed the cold salad box to sate the fever he had burning in his brain. Why can’t he just be up front with me? If you’re mad just say it, don’t fucking torture me.

Perhaps deep down, he knew he was being ridiculous; Matt and Elijah were most likely correct. The simplest answer – that Reed truly was just a good guy – was probably the right one. But he just couldn’t get out of his mind all the times he’d reached out, needed help and asked for it, and been shot down. He certainly couldn’t allow himself to believe that the person he was dating was truly good; he knew he’d never deserve that.

“Greyson?”

Speaking of Reed, that sounded a lot like him – was Greyson hearing things? Had he, in his fever-addled state, conjured a hallucination of his boyfriend to have a fight with? Bizarre, Grey, he thought to himself. That’s really fucking bizarre.

“Grey? Elijah said you were in here but I don’t – oh!”

Either this was a really crazy hallucination, or that really was Reed standing over him, in the walk-in. Greyson blinked hard, then blinked again, and suddenly Reed was on the ground next to him.

“Babe...it’s really cold in here. Do you think we can, um, leave?”

Greyson furrowed his eyebrows together. “Leave… and go where?” he asked, his voice cracking. “I have to… work. What are you doigg heeee...HRTSHH-ue! Huh -! HTSHH! NTSHH! IGXTSH!” Greyson attempted to stifle over and over, until Reed gently took his hand and pulled it away from his face.

“That has to hurt,” Reed said, his voice quiet and calm. “You can just… sneeze, you know. Like, regular.”

“Tryigg ndot to get you,” Greyson croaked, his eyes glazing over once again. “Youbettermov – HRRETSZCHH-ue! ITSZZHH-ue! Fuck – NGTSHHZ-ue!” Greyson sneezed into his lap, then coughed until his lungs felt sore. Reed didn’t move; he came closer and rubbed Greyson’s back.

“Bless you, baby,” Reed said, eventually.

“Thangks. Sorry,” Greyson murmured, pushing his hair out of his face and turning to look at Reed. “Why are you here?” he asked, levity out the window.

Reed let out a little laugh. “Umm, why do you think?” he asked. “You’ve been ignoring me since this morning. I got worried, since Matt said you were super sick – no lie detected, by the way, you sound truly awful –”

“Sorry,” Greyson said again, wiping under his nose. “I kndow, it’s gross.”

“Please, Grey,” Reed said, taking both sides of his boyfriend’s face in his hands and looking him in the eye. “Please. Stop apologizing. It’s okay to be sick. I don’t understand why you think I’m angry at you. I’m not.”

Greyson swallowed, painfully, and gave a little nod. “Okay,” he said, finally.

“Okay,” Reed repeated. “Anyway. I called Elijah. He said to come and collect you.”

At this, Greyson couldn’t help but cough out a laugh. “Collect mbe?” he asked. Reed smiled a little.

“Yeah,” he said. “His words, not mine.”

They both laughed, softly at first, then ramping up to near-hysteria. They only stopped when Greyson started coughing again and couldn’t seem to stop.

“Let’s go get you some water,” Reed said, helping his boyfriend to his shaky feet. Greyson allowed himself to be pulled out of the walk-in, and given a bottle of water that was sitting on his prep station. Greyson drank until the fit subsided, then regarded Reed once again.

“So… you really aren’t mbad?” he asked, rubbing his goosebumped arms up and down. Reed shook his head and shrugged off his windbreaker. He draped it over Greyson’s shoulders.

“I’m really not mad,” he insisted. Greyson nodded, seemingly satiated. Reed sighed through his nose and slipped his arms around the chef.

“Life’s done a number on you, huh?” he asked, quietly enough that it could’ve just been to himself. Greyson huffed out a sad little laugh.

“Like you wouldn’t believe, baby,” he murmured, pressing his hot head into Reed’s hair. “Like you wouldn’t believe.”

[kzlove]

3:04am

syn -> armin constantly has trouble sleeping. tonight, he decides to drag his girlfriend into it.

(ooc insomniac!armin)

[3:04am] my min : hey you up ? [3:07am] my min : listen I know you have stuff to-do in the morning [3:07am] my min: but I just really wanna hear from you

[3:10am] love : min bb… [3:11am] love : you can’t sleep again?

[3:11am] my min : I’m really sorry

[3:13am] love : no it’s okay , you can’t control it [3:13am] love : what’s up?

[3:14am] my min : uhm it’s nothing really [3:14am] my min : just wanted to hear from you

[3:14am] love: oo okay

[3:15am] my min : yeah sorry

[3:16am] love : hush [3:17am] love : did you take a warm bath?

[3:17am] my min : yeah

[3:18am] love : drank some water?

{3:18am] my min : two cups

[3:19am] love : turning on the diffuser?

[3:19am] my min : I even replaced the oil [3:21am] my min : maybe i just need to come see you yk ?

[3:21am] love : thats too dangerous min. why would you even suggest that??

[3:22am] my min : …babe it’s not that far

[3:22am] love : do you see the time?

[3:22am] my min : I still don’t see the point

[3:24am] love : wtv,, is ren awake??

[3:25am] my min : I don’t think so . haven’t heard him

[3:25am] love : why don’t you check? ask him to help you out or smth?

[3:26am] my min : no I can’t do that [3:26am] my min : that’s so embarrassing

[3:27am] love : you two took a bath together

[3:27am] my min : when we were kids??

[3:28am] love : may I also add in the fact that he said to wake up him if you need him?

[3:29am] my min : I don’t need him?

[3:29am] love : you need someone to help you

[3:30am] my min: yeah and that person said 'it's too dangerous' [3:31am] my min : besides [3:31am] my min : what can he even do for me ? rub my tummy ???

[3:31am] love : will that help?

[3:32am] my min : ^^^sarcasm .

[3:32am] love ^^^srs

[3:33am] my min : you think he'll say 'aww poor minne :( ofc i'll rub your wittle tummy to help you sweep'

[3:33am] love : maybe not exactly that but [3:33am] love : similar?

[3:34am] my min : love are you attempting to be funny?

[3:34am] love : ^^^^^^^^^srs.

[3:35am] my min : omfg- ok [3:35am] my min : i'll try to rub my own tummy [3:35am] my min : if not then i'll try something else

[3:35am] love : like ask eren for help?

[3:36am] my min : i didn't say that

[3:36am] love : *cough* ask eren now *cough*

[3:37am] my min : ihy

[3:37am] love : <3

[3:37am] my min : also , open the door

[3:37am] love : you did not. [3:38am] love : armin i told you to stay home

[3:39am] my min : god fucking dammit just open the door .

you dragged yourself up out of the bed and opened your front door, frowning at the sight of armin arlert.

"what are you doing here?" you sighed quietly, raising your eyebrow at your boyfriend.

armin smiled big with tired eyes, flashing his smiley piercing at you.

"i told you. maybe i need to see you." armin replied smoothly, venturing into your home after moving you aside.

you rolled your eyes and shut the door, locking it and watching him make his way into your kitchen.

he picked up a bottle of water and unscrewed the cap, taking a long sip while still smiling at you.

armin let out a (overly) dramatic sigh of relief and screwed the cap back on.

"come on. let's go to sleep." armin said, not waiting for you and making his way into your bedroom.

you followed after him and watched as he rid himself of his clothes, climbing into your bed and tossing a stuffed animal at you.

it slapped you dead in the face and landed on the floor, making you laugh quietly and climb in next to him.

armin quickly pulled you into his chest, laying on his back and sighing in content.

you placed a hand over his chest and began falling asleep once more, finding comfort in your boyfriend's warmth.

a couple minutes have passed, and your room stayed silent.

until armin let out a loud sigh.

"what now min?" you asked, peeking an eye open and looking at the blond haired man.

"still can't sleep." armin complained, looking at you.

you rolled your eyes and sat up, licking your tongue in slight annoyance.

armin was always like this, so you honestly couldn't get mad at him for it.

you were happy he was comfortable enough to come to you with these problems late at night.

you stood up from your bed and walked over to your desk, clicking on the machine that sat on it.

purple mist began to flow from the machine, letting you know that it was on and working.

you climbed back into bed and yawned, stretching and pressing soft kisses on his cheek.

"m'sorry." armin mumbled, lips tugging down into a frown.

you pressed a soft kiss onto his lips. "s'okay. don't worry." you reassured quietly.

armin continued to lay on his back, slowly pulling you into his side once more.

you pushed your hand into his hair and played a bit, feeling him hum in content.

armin leaned into your touch, squeezing your hip playfully.

"wanna try something?" you whispered, resting your head on his shoulder.

armin looked down at you and chuckled. "i'm not. having sex with you." armin said jokingly.

you chuckled along with him and ignored him, placing a hand on his lower stomach.

"aye." armin teased, slapping at your hip playfully.

you laughed quietly, and began to move your hand in a slow circle on his stomach.

"i'm telling you this isn't gonna work." armin said, rubbing your hip at the same pace you were rubbing his stomach at.

"how would you know?" you questioned, shooting him a teasing look.

armin scoffed, looking back at your ceiling. "because i know my body and i tried this when i was home." armin responded smoothly.

you mocked him quietly, earning an eyeroll from him.

it became silent once more, save the for light sounds of the machine giving off a lavender scent.

you continued to rub his stomach slowly for five minutes, before looking up at him.

armin was fucking knocked out, despite having the most shit to talk not too long ago.

you smiled, kissing his cheek softly and beginning to doze off along with your boyfrined.

before god could grant you with sleep once more, your phone buzzed a few times.

you groaned quietly, reaching over blindly and grabbing it.

eren !! : tell min if he's gonna leave @ 3 in the night , lock the fuckin door back eren !! : or @ least lmk eren !! : scared the dog shit outta me smh.