#I just think that if I got my heart shattered again it would give me the strength to overcome my shitty joints yk

[tofugains]

I am not someone who should be in a relationship. I think that at a certain level, feelings are bad for my health. But I am considering the anabolic benefits of texting my ex so he can break my heart all over again right before I walk into the gym. I will not do this because I'm pretty sure it'd kill me but it's an option

[maxtermind]

absolutely loved ‘baby, would i still be your lover’, everyone single one got me in my feels! i was wondering would you consider doing a part 2? whether it ends in angst or fluff

I'll tell you the truth, but never goodbye

★ : summary :: when he accidentally insults you during an argument- aftermath ★ : feat :: max verstappen, lewis hamilton, carlos sainz, charles leclerc, lando norris ★ : genre :: hurt/comfort, hints of angst ★ : word count :: 4.3k ★ : a/n :: thank you so much for the love on part 1 💓 some of these have open ending so you can pick whether you'd like to forgive them or not as a reader!! feedback is appreciated :)

( part 1 )

Max Verstappen

You sighed as you sat down to have your morning tea as usual, trying to pretend that nothing was wrong. As if you hadn't spent all night long getting your phone spammed with calls that you were ignoring.

After mindlessly roaming around for a bit, you eventually decided to crash at your best friend’s place. You lazily waved at her as she frantically got ready to leave for work. However, you were on your tiptoe as soon as the door opened.

A body that was possibly sleeping while leaning against the door fell inside and you heard curses that you were quite too familiar with. Your heart clenched at the sight of your boyfriend - or perhaps now, your ex-boyfriend - on his knees, nursing the wound on his head. The ache of seeing him in pain reignited the anguish you thought you had left behind.

“Okay,” you heard your friend murmur. “I'm gonna let you guys get to it.” She was out the door a second later.

You looked at the closed door instead of the man who was desperately trying to make eye contact with you.

“How long have you…” You trailed off before deciding that you didn't want to know.

“As soon as you turned your phone off, Y/N! I've been here since last night.” "Why?" you choked out, the words barely escaping your lips as tears threatened to overflow. His brows furrowed before he ran his hands over his face and got up to sit right next to you. You saw his hand itching toward yours and instinctively pulled it towards your body. "Because I needed to see you in person, to talk." He took another deep breath and you later realized that he was trying to stop himself from crying. “I realize I messed up, baby. I.. I never should have let you walk out.” But his attempt to mend the shattered pieces of your relationship only served to reopen the wounds, your walls instinctively rising in defense,"Talk? You think a talk is going to fix everything?" Max's eyes were filled with a mix of regret and desperation as he reached out for your hand, his fingers trembling slightly. "No, I don't think a talk will magically fix everything," he admitted, his voice raw with emotion.

"But it's a start. I need you to know that I'm truly sorry for what happened. I hate myself for hurting you, for making you doubt how much you mean to me."

You couldn't bring yourself to meet his gaze, the pain of the previous night still too fresh in your mind.

“How can I trust you again, Max? How can I be sure that this won't happen again?" Your voice was barely a whisper, filled with the ache of betrayal.

Max's grip on your hand tightened, his eyes pleading for understanding. "I know I've messed up, Y/N. But I'm willing to do whatever it takes to earn back your trust. I'll work on my temper, I’ll be better to you, I'll do anything you ask of me. I just need you to give me another chance." “You know you’ve always been the best to me, right? I just can’t believe that instead of talking it out yesterday, you straight up skipped to breaking up wit-” Fresh tears started falling down your cheeks. Max immediately leaned forward to hold you in his arms and you let him because you needed him. But how could you trust him again? How could you be sure that history wouldn't repeat itself? That he won’t throw away your whole relationship just because the anger got a hold of him? As Max held you close, you felt a wave of conflicting emotions wash over you. Part of you wanted to push him away, to scream and shout at him for causing you so much pain. But another part of you craved his warmth, his touch, his presence.

"I'm sorry, Y/N," Max whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "I know I messed up, and I hate myself for it. I never meant to hurt you, I swear."

You buried your face in his chest, the tears soaking through his shirt as you struggled to make sense of your feelings.

“I just don't know if I can do this anymore, Max," you admitted, your voice muffled against him. Max tightened his embrace, his arms wrapping around you protectively. "I understand," he murmured, his voice gentle. His admission eased your thumping heart a bit, you were glad to have him back. The storm within you finding a momentary calm.

"I made you feel like our relationship was disposable, like breaking up was no big deal. But that couldn't be further from the truth. You're the most important person in my life, baby and the thought of losing you terrifies me. I'll do whatever it takes to make things right between us, to show you just how much you mean to me. I'll do whatever it takes to earn back your trust if you still want me."

Lewis Hamilton

The weight of Lewis's words hung heavy in the air, suffocating you as you retreated into the sanctuary of your bedroom. Tears streamed down your cheeks unchecked, your heart aching with a pain you couldn't quite comprehend. How had a day that started with such a promise turned into this? You buried your face in your hands, the sting of Lewis's words feeling like acid running through your veins.

Outside the door, the silence was deafening, broken only by the muffled sound of your sobs. Lewis stood frozen in place, his mind racing as he replayed the exchange in his head.

He couldn't believe the words that had escaped his lips, couldn't fathom how he had allowed his frustration to morph into such hurtful remarks.

Minutes stretched into eternity as Lewis grappled with the weight of his actions, the gravity of his words settling like a lead weight in his chest.

He wanted to reach out to you, to apologize and make things right, but his feet remained rooted to the spot, paralyzed by the magnitude of his mistake.

Inside the bedroom, you were consumed by a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. Anger, hurt, betrayal - they all swirled together into an ugly monster, threatening to engulf you whole.

How could the man you loved, the man who had always been your rock, turn on you with such venom?

But beneath the anger and hurt, there was a flicker of doubt, a gnawing fear that maybe Lewis's words held a grain of truth. Maybe you were too insecure, too needy, too demanding. Maybe you were asking for too much, expecting him to be there for you when he had his own priorities and responsibilities. Maybe-

The sound of a soft knock on the door snapped you out of your thoughts, and you looked up to see Lewis standing there, his expression wrought with regret and guilt. For a moment, neither of you spoke, the weight of the unspoken apology hanging heavy in the air. Looking at him distraught made your chest feel worse. How could he make you feel ten fold worse than this and not feel a thing? 

"I'm sorry," Lewis finally whispered, his voice barely audible. "I didn't mean what I said. I was out of line, and I know I hurt you. Please, let me make it right." He rushed through the words.

His words pierced through the haze of your pain, and you felt a bit of heaviness leaving your body. He crossed the room in a few strides, dropping to his knees in front of you, his eyes pleading for forgiveness. 

"I don't know what came over me," he admitted, his voice thick with emotion before your boyfriend took your hand away from your face and kissed your cheeks. "I was so caught up in my own frustrations that I lashed out at you, and I hate myself for it. You don't deserve to be treated that way, especially not by me."

You studied his face, searching for any sign of insincerity, but all you saw was genuine remorse and regret. And despite the pain still raw in your chest, you couldn't deny the love you felt for him, the longing to mend what had been broken between you. “You hurt me,” you whispered but didn’t push him away as he laid down with you, holding you close to his chest. Some of your resolve wavering when you felt his fast heartbeat. “I wanted you there so much.” He nodded as he shushed you, his own eyes dropping tears. “I’m so so sorry, baby. I can't even begin to express how deeply I regret the way I acted the whole day, I know you deserve so much more but-” You shifted slightly, knowing all that you wanted right now was comfort, you didn't want to forgive him or minimize the weight of his actions. "I don't know if I can right now," you replied, your voice trembling with the weight of your emotions.

Lewis's eyes brimmed with tears as he whispered, "Please don't shut me out. I can't bear the thought of losing you."

You felt a pang of guilt at the pain evident in his voice. "I just need some time to process everything," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

"I understand," Lewis replied, his tone filled with sorrow. "But please know that I'm here whenever you're ready to talk."

You nodded, silently acknowledging his words as you allowed yourself to be enveloped in his comforting embrace. 

"I promise to make it up to you," Lewis vowed earnestly, his voice laced with determination. "I'll do whatever it takes to earn back your trust."

"I want to believe you," you admitted quietly, your heart heavy with uncertainty. Everything was a little too raw right now and your emotions were all over the place.

"I'll spend every moment proving it to you," Lewis declared, his eyes locking with yours in a silent vow.

“I was thoughtless and cruel today, and I never should have let those words leave my lips. You are not insecure, you are strong and resilient, baby. You deserve so much better than the hurtful words I spoke. Please know that I can’t lose you, Y/N. I will work tirelessly to regain your trust and rebuild what I have so carelessly shattered. You mean the world to me, and I will spend every moment striving to be worthy of your love.”

Carlos Sainz

As you sat nervously in your childhood home, the familiar sights and sounds providing little comfort, your mind raced with thoughts of disappointment and hurt.

For the third time, Carlos had failed to join you in meeting your parents, leaving you to face their questioning looks and unspoken concerns alone. You had rehearsed what you would say to them, how you would explain his absence, but each time, the words caught in your throat, choked by a mixture of frustration and sadness. For the past few days since you walked out of your apartment, you had been ignoring Carlos’ attempts to reconcile with you. The calls and texts he spammed you with were ignored and curses left your mouth as soon as your mind went back to the day of the argument, bringing unwanted tears to your eyes.

In the passing, you saw a Ferrari conference being conducted and as much as you wanted to reach out and talk it out with him, your heart did flips that you were sure you should have visited a doctor for.

Your parents, ever perceptive, noticed your unease as you fidgeted with the napkin in your lap, casting worried glances in your direction. You tried to muster a reassuring smile, but it faltered, betraying the turmoil within you.

How could you explain to them that the man you loved couldn't find the time to meet them, despite his promises and assurances? "What's wrong, sweetie?" your mom asked, concern evident in her voice.

You sighed, hesitating for a moment before replying, "It's Carlos... He like…"

Your dad's brow furrowed. "Is everything okay?"

You tried to muster a reassuring smile. "Yeah, he said that he got caught up with work. You know how busy he is with his racing and all..." Your dad’s brows furrowed when you trailed off, about to ask you what exactly you meant but just as you were steeling yourself to broach the subject, the doorbell rang, startling you from your thoughts.

Your heart sank as you realized it was likely a neighbor stopping by to meet you since you don’t visit that often, you stood up to go greet them. But then, to your disbelief, you heard his voice drifting through the door, before you saw your boyfriend standing right behind it. Your head titled in confusion and you drew a breath that took most of the stress from the previous days away from your body.

"Sorry I'm late," he said, his tone apologetic yet determined. Carlos took your hand and kissed it lightly,"Traffic was a nightmare." “What about the conference that you-” “You’re the most important person in my life, Y/N.” He cut you off before pulling you in and walking to the dining room that was in his vision. As if that was the answer to your question.

You turned to face him, your eyes wide with surprise and a flicker of hope. There he was, looking slightly disheveled but undeniably earnest, his gaze that locked on yours was as if it was seeking forgiveness. You could see the sincerity in his eyes, the regret etched in the lines of his face.

Your parents exchanged a glance, their expressions softening as they took in the sight of Carlos standing before them. 

Despite their reservations about his repeated absences, they couldn't deny the genuine affection that Carlos held in his eyes when he looked at you.

Before you could find the words to respond, Carlos took a step forward, his hand reaching out tentatively. "I'm really sorry, both of you," he said, addressing your parents directly.

"I know how important this is to you, and I should have made more of an effort to be here on time."

His words hung in the air, a silent acknowledgment of his shortcomings and a pledge to do better. You felt a surge of emotion welling up inside you, a mixture of relief, gratitude, and a glimmer of renewed faith in your relationship. "Well, we're just glad you could make it," your dad said, offering Carlos a handshake.

"Thank you for coming, Carlos," your mother said, her voice warm yet cautious. "We understand that life gets busy, but it's important to make time for the people who matter most."

Carlos nodded, his expression earnest as he met her gaze. "I couldn't agree more. Family means putting in effort, I promise to make it up to all of you."

As you sat down to dinner, the atmosphere was tinged with a sense of reconciliation and hope. Your hand still intertwined with his as you saw him charm your family. Despite the rocky start, Carlos's presence brought a newfound sense of unity and understanding to the table. And as you shared stories and laughter, you couldn't help but feel grateful for the opportunity to mend what had seemed irreparably broken.

In that moment, you realized that love wasn't just about grand gestures or sweeping declarations—it was about the everyday moments of connection and compromise, the willingness to forgive and grow together.

And as you looked at Carlos, his eyes filled with determination and affection, you knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, you would face them together, hand in hand.

Charles Leclerc

Charles had apologized right after he had said those words and though you had both fallen back into routine, the underlying bitterness and resentment was still present. You weren’t the one initiating any kind of affection from your side and every time Charles was initiating anything, you half assed your way out of it. Was it childish? Probably. But you were still not comfortable with how easily you had forgiven Charles, burying your hurt just to avoid conflict once again despite knowing deep down that he has hurt you probably more than anyone else ever has. These thoughts were running through your head as you sat beside Charles, your heart still heavy with the weight, you couldn't shake the feeling of unease that lingered in the air. Especially because Charles seemed distant, his mind preoccupied with thoughts, that you couldn't help but wonder what exactly they were. Why had he even asked to go on a date today? To break up with you? Suddenly, Pippa appeared, her presence causing the knot to form in your stomach to get tighter. She approached with a confident stride, a charming smile gracing her lips as she greeted Charles with a hug.

"Hey, Charlie!" Pippa exclaimed, her eyes flickering briefly in your direction before returning to Charles. "Long time no see!"

Charles returned her hug, though his embrace seemed somewhat forced. "Hey, Pippa. Yeah, it's been a while." 

You observed their interaction closely, your unease growing with each passing moment. Pippa's presence always seemed to unsettle you, and you couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to their friendship than met the eye. Was he gonna break up with you in public and confess his years long feelings for Pippa? Charles glanced at you, his expression softening as he reached for your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours. "I was just out with Y/N today."

You couldn't help but feel a rush of warmth at his actions, his affectionate gesture soothing some of the tension that had been building between you.

"Nice to meet you, Y/N," Pippa said, offering you a friendly smile. "Sorry I didn’t see you next to Charlie."

You returned her smile, though it didn't quite reach your eyes and managed to reply without gagging. "Nice to meet you, Pippa." Charles tightened his grip on your hand, silently reassuring you of his presence and support. "We were just grabbing a coffee," he explained, his gaze flickering between you and Pippa. "Care to join us?"

Pippa hesitated for a moment, her eyes narrowing slightly as she glanced at you before turning back to Charles. "Actually, I was hoping we could catch up alone, if that's okay."

You felt a pang of anxiety at her words, a sense of foreboding settling in the pit of your stomach. Despite your reservations, you nodded, forcing a smile as you released Charles's hand. It was better to walk away yourself than to have Charles dismiss you.

"Of course," you said, though your voice sounded strained even to your own ears. "I'll wait for you outside."

Charles shot you an alarmed look as you stood up,”I’ll see you in a few.” Charles’ hand lingered on yours for a moment longer before you reluctantly let go and made your way to the door.

You leaned against your car and enjoyed the wind for a second. You couldn’t help but catch a glimpse of the exchange between your boyfriend and his best friend sitting inside.

You were half scared to find them kissing or something but, instead a sense of confusion washed over you as you watched the way Pippa was angrily point a finger at Charles and scream at him.

It was a second later when she stormed out before making her way towards you.

"Is he doing this because of you?!" Pippa's accusatory tone sent a shiver down your spine, her words hitting too close to home.

Before you could even process what was happening, Charles emerged from the cafe, his expression determined as he approached you and Pippa.

"Go home, Pippa," he said firmly, his voice leaving no room for argument as he intertwined his hand with yours.

Pippa's eyes blazed with anger, her fists clenched at her sides as she glared at Charles. "You will regret this, Charles!" she spat before storming off, leaving you both standing there in stunned silence.

Once Pippa was out of sight, you turned to Charles, your heart pounding in your chest. "What was that all about?" you asked, your voice trembling slightly.

Charles sighed, running a hand through his hair as he looked at you with apologetic eyes. "I'm sorry you had to witness that, Y/N. Pippa has been... difficult lately."

You frowned, your mind reeling with confusion and frustration. "Difficult how?"

Charles hesitated for a moment, his gaze searching yours as if trying to find the right words. "She's been pushing boundaries, trying to come between us. But I won't let her." 

"Hey," he continued, taking your hand in his. "I told Pippa that I wouldn't be spending time with her alone anymore. If she can't accept you, then it's better for us to not be friends at all."

You blinked in surprise, a rush of gratitude flooding through you at his words. "Really?"

Charles nodded, squeezing your hand gently. "Really. You're the most important person in my life, and I won't let anyone come between us."

Tears welled up in your eyes as you wrapped your arms around him, holding him close. "Thank you, Charles. I appreciate you standing up for us."

He smiled softly, squeezing your hand reassuringly. "I'll always stand up for us, Y/N. You mean everything to me."

Tears welled up in your eyes as you threw your arms around him, holding him close. Despite the lingering bitterness and resentment, you couldn't deny the overwhelming love you felt for him in that moment.

Lando Norris

As you stepped out of the taxi, the cool night air enveloped you, offering a moment of respite from the whirlwind of emotions that had engulfed you throughout the evening.

Your heart still felt heavy with the weight of Lando's hurtful words, but beneath the pain, a numbness resided- knowing deep down that you might’ve just broken up with your boyfriend.

Before you could take another step, you heard the sound of hurried footsteps approaching from behind. Turning around, you saw Lando rushing towards you, his eyes filled with remorse and his expression wrought with sorrow. Your hand instinctively went to your chest, trying to calm the rapid beating of your heart.

"Y/N, please wait," he called out, his voice pleading as he reached your side, breathless from his haste.

You pulled your face to meet his eyes, uncertainty and wariness etched into your features as you met his gaze. Part of you yearned to turn away, to shield yourself from the pain of his words, but another part couldn't help but hope that maybe, just maybe, he was sincere in his apology.

"Lando," you said softly, your voice tinged with a mixture of hurt and apprehension. You wanted to say more but the damn ball in your throat stopped you doing so.

He took a deep breath, his eyes never leaving yours as he searched for the right words to express the depth of his regret. "I know I messed up, Y/N. I hurt you, and I can't even begin to tell you how sorry I am for that."

His words washed over you like a soothing balm, offering a sliver of comfort. But still, you couldn't bring yourself to let go of the hurt that lingered in your heart.

"I should have been there for you tonight, supporting you and showing you how much you mean to me," Lando continued, his voice filled with genuine remorse. "Instead, I let my own selfishness and insecurities get in the way, and for that, I am truly sorry."

Tears welled up in your eyes as you listened to him, the sincerity in his voice echoing the ache in your own heart. You were sure you’ll regret letting go of this amazing relationship without at least attempting to work on it.

Despite the pain he had caused you, you couldn't help but feel a glimmer of hope that maybe, just maybe, there was still a chance to rebuild what had been broken.

"I don't expect you to forgive me right away, Y/N," Lando said softly, his hands shaking and showcasing the intensity of his vulnerability.

"I know I have a lot of work to do to earn back your trust and your love. But please, just give me a chance to make things right. I promise to do whatever it takes to show you how much you mean to me, every single day for the rest of my life."

His words hung in the air, heavy with sincerity and remorse, leaving you torn between the desire to hold onto the pain of the past and the hope for a brighter future. As you gazed into his eyes, searching for any hint of insincerity or deceit, all you found was raw honesty and unwavering devotion.

With a heavy heart and a flicker of hope, you reached out to take his hand, intertwining your fingers with his. "I don't know if I'm ready to forgive you just yet, Lando," you whispered, your voice trembling with uncertainty.

Lando takes a step closer, gently cupping your face in his hands. "I'll spend every moment proving I'm worthy of your love, Y/N. Let me show you how much you mean to me, starting from this moment. I'll do whatever it takes to earn back your trust, even if it means giving you the space you need. Just know that I'm here for you, whenever you're ready."

( writing masterlist \ main masterlist \ drop a request ) ©maxtermind // do not copy, rewrite or translate any of my work on any platforms.

[jasmineoolongtea]

― in between ⋆⭒˚.⋆

― the ways in which they act around you when you're in that in-between stage ༘ ⋆｡˚

contents: gojo x gn!reader, geto x gn!reader, nanami x gn!reader, megumi x gn!reader, yuji x gn!reader, yuuta x gn!reader, headcannons/drabbles, fluff a/n: heavily based on in between by gracie abrams. if she releases it in the secret of us deluxe edition, i might just explode with happiness. btw thank you sm for blowing up my last post, literally insane of you guys and a big kiss to all of you. also genuine question for you guys, do you prefer the layout i have for my headcanons, drabbles or longer fics? i'm trying to see which one you guys prefer

gojo satoru never lets his phone ring for more than a couple seconds when it comes to you. doesn't matter where, when or what it could be about, the second he hears your personalised ringtone or sees your name flash across the top of his screen, he's scrambling to try and answer it as fast he possibly can. he could be in the middle of fighting a curse, deep within the throws of battle with a laser focus on the target in front of him and it all goes out the window the moment you call his phone.

you'll never know about it though. for some reason, satoru keeps this fact to himself like it's the biggest secret in the world. he'll always pick up the phone with a carefree lilt to his voice, sometimes even choosing to tease you for calling him when you could have just texted instead. quietly inside, he thanks the universe for giving him the opportunity to hear your voice again.

"gojo," god, he loves the way you say his name, maybe one day he'll manage to get you to call him satoru. "are you sure you're at home right now?" there's a tinge of concern that permeates your voice and he swears his heart beats twice as fast just thinking about the fact that you might be worried about his well being.

"of course! why'd you ask? don't tell me this is your way of asking to come over right now?" you sigh at his antics and he laughs it off, it's like a routine you two do. he keeps jokingly throwing out these more than friendly offers to your constant dismissal but secretly, he hopes one day that he can stop pretending like they're just that.

there's a loud crash coming from his side of the call which only serves your suspicions as you quip back. "no, gojo. i'm asking because i'm hearing noises like you're beating someone up." he curses faintly under his breath at the curse who's off groaning in pain in the distance after being punted into a wall with a flick of his wrist.

you pause for a second as your voice softens "is this a good time to call because if not i can just-"

"no, no." he cuts you off, "i've got all the time in the world for you."

geto suguru hates it when you cry and hates it even more when you're away. he never thought it would be possible to hear a heart shatter in front of him but that's what he hears every time you shed a tear. you're the definition of angelic as crystalline tears stream down your face and his heart swells with warmth when you allow him to comfort you in his arms.

silently, he pledges to burn down whatever has brought you so much grief and pain as a newfound sense of anger courses through his veins. but before he can do anything, you turn to him with watery eyes and a quivering lip as you ask him to do the unthinkable.

"stay." you plead quietly.

"okay." he responds, a soft, comforting smile gracing his expression. he'll never say it out loud but he knows that it's a request, just like many others, he'll accept a thousand times over if it means he gets to stay close to you, even if it's nothing more than this.

if he thought it was painful to see you cry, then being away from you was possibly a fate worse than death. whenever he has to bear the misfortune of being separated from you, there's a part of him that you've taken away with you and is only reunited when you return to him. absence is said to make the heart grow fonder but he's pretty sure it's humanly impossible for his to do that as you're already the one it beats for. even across the distance of a phone call, it's still not enough for him to hear but not see you as it simply makes him crave your presence next even more.

he's rarely ever let anyone in like this before but the day you see him exhausted, dishevelled and broken and still choose to remain at his side, despite his protests, is the day he's sure that you're the only thing he'll ever want for the rest of his life. you claim it's under the guise of being friendly yet even satoru hasn't seen him like this. you might not know it but he does.

he doesn't say much, instead choosing to bask in this moment of mutual comfort and closeness as even at each other's worst, you both know that you'll still be okay.

nanami kento says that he's new at this when you toe that delicate line between the two of you. you're new to this too. he's scared and you're scared, however, the fear is not enough to stop this. when does the line of being just friends end and the line of calling each other lover start? or is there a secret in-between stage that the two of you are stuck in like right now, where the other waits with bated breath to see if someone takes the risk to make the first move?

you've been friends for as long as you can remember running into each other that one fateful day within the rectangular walls of jujutsu tech. however, there's always been a whisper of something else there as well. it's been something the two of you have danced around with lingering glances and silent, 'accidental' touches in public spaces. the two of you have seen each other through the growing pains of adolescence, nights of broken hearts and awkward first dates and now with an added layer of professionalism as recent coworkers.

when it was nanami who was the one who rescued you from those times when you were left cold and alone in a random restaurant somewhere, you know that you've had enough of waiting on somebody who doesn't care about you. as he places his hand on your shoulder, ushering you into his car with his jacket dropped across your figure with the utmost care, he knows that you deserve so much more than whatever this world can offer and he can only dream of being the one to give this to you.

between you and him, there's an invisible wall of all the labels you have each barricade the other behind in an attempt to hide under a sense of familiarity but now in this moment, you want nothing more than to tear it all down with your bare hands. he reaches out to you, threading his fingers through his and in one swift move, he's done the impossible and has crossed over the holy ground that lies beneath you.

"do you think this is a good idea?" you ask him, your voice barely above a whisper.

"positive." he responds, more resolute in his answer than in anything he has been in his life, and you swear sparks fly when you kiss.

fushiguro megumi loves your eyes and your smile and you love how he talks late at night when there's no one there. it's like a silent agreement between you two, one that you always honour. whenever one of you guys can't sleep, you will go to each other's dorm rooms and knock twice and you guys will stay up and talk until either the sun comes up or you both fall asleep.

it doesn't take a genius to say that megumi is a guarded person, with his walls so high you might even lose sight of him behind them, so it only makes it even more precious when you're able to see him like this in the dim light of the moonlight pouring in through the window. his skin is illuminated by the glow and the way he sounds when he's speaking with his soul bared open in its entirety makes you want to forever immortalise this moment in your memories. you think about all the people who have missed out on experiencing him like this with how his eyes sparkle with passion and how he breaks out into a grin at the slightest joke, leading you to mourn silently for their loss. however, you think of how vulnerable he lets himself become around you, knowing that you'll stay here with him no matter what, and the sweet nothings you hear him whisper to you when he thinks that you've fallen asleep and you realise this a secret you'll want to keep just between these walls.

on the rare occasion that megumi loses his battle to sleep first, he'll silently reach out for your hand and pull you closer to him. you're not sure if he's doing this consciously or unconsciously but you chose not to comment on the growing red glow of his ears as you sink into his touch.

usually, however, what happens is that you fall asleep first as you make your way onto the pillowy fortress that is either of your guys' beds. as you begin to drift off, he's always there watching over you like your very own moody guardian angel. this is the most he'll let himself indulge in your closeness, for now, as he takes comfort in the familiarity of this in-between stage.

itadori yuji tells you that you're beautiful, funny and smart like nothing he's ever seen. he swears on everything he loves in this world, a list that includes you but you don't need to know that yet. you brush off his compliments with practised ease as you try to fight the burning sensation that is spreading across your face. deep down, you can feel your heart fluttering at his compliments but then you think about how you shouldn't be feeling this way about someone who's your friend.

"itadori, you're exaggerating," you say, shoving his shoulder playfully. he pretends to feign hurt, rubbing the impacted area with a slight pout. adorable, you think to yourself before bringing yourself back into the present moment.

"no, it's true really! if you don't believe me, i'll just keep saying it over and over again." he asserts, ever so confident in his stance. it's all true to him, just like how the sky is blue and the grass is green. he'll be the first one to say how pretty, amazing and talented you are in a room full of your biggest supporters and he'll be the first one to say it again when there's no one else.

you roll your eyes half-heartedly at him, trying your best to act nonchalant despite wondering if he might ever feel more for you than your current state of friendship. "you don't say that to your friends. what about nobara, you don't say this to her, do you?"

"yeah, but she isn't you," he responds back. you don't answer him, choosing instead to point out an ice cream stand in the far distance and he lets you tug him along with you. it's okay, he knows that you're scared of whatever lies ahead for you two. he understands that you're worried that he might like you in that way, although he thinks that it's a bit stupid you're still so unsure about it when he wears his heart on his sleeve whenever it comes to you. whatever is it, he'll be happy to go along at your pace, just as long as it means he gets to be by your side like this.

okkotsu yuuta is so good to you and it makes you want it more than everything in between. is it greedy to say that you want more than whatever you two have right now? the longing stares, the lingering touches and the way your faces light up when you spot each other in a crowded room. sure, those were all fine for a bit but how long were you able to survive on just that when he was right there next to you as a constant reminder of the possibility of something more.

you never thought that you would be able to meet someone like him, someone who treats you as if you were the best thing to ever happen with so much care and love radiating from his very being. the way his hand brushes your cheeks when you get even the smallest cuts makes your heart feel like it's about to fall out of your chest with how he takes extra care to scan over your appearance for anything, pausing for a second on your lips. you think to yourself, he must be doing this on purpose, and you want to curse at him for playing with your heart but when he smiles at you with those half-moon eyes, you can feel all of that melting away and more.

the only person you can blame here for your current predicament is yourself really, you were the one who drew the line in the sand when the two of you first met. just friends, you said but in your defence, you had just learned about his history and how cold and empty his has been as well as how much you've been hurt in your own past, so you decided to do what was, at the time, what you thought was best for the both of you. only now, every day you spend with him makes him wish that you would one day wake up and finally take that jump.

yuuta also shares your sentiments, actually ever since he first saw you he knew that you were the one he wanted to live and breathe for, but he doesn't say anything for fear of scaring you off. he knows about your worries, your doubts and your fears and as much as he wants to tell you that you should throw caution into the wind and that he'll take that step for you, he also knows that he can't. so for now he'll do his best to quell your nerves with a gentle hand on the small of your back and a fleeting kiss on your cheek that you'll someday trust in yourself and him to fall headfirst into this new unknown territory, outside of this in between.

[hiraethwrote]

cw gn!reader but written with f!reader in mind, angst, no comfort, breakup, pining, minor clubbing wc: <1k an i'm on my period which is making me a little emotional, which resulted in this

ex!suguru will never truly be over you, convinced you’re the one that got away.

the breakup was “mutual”, emphasis on the quotation marks — it only meant you guys ended on good terms. it was a very quiet and tender scene. he holds your hands in his, slowly his thumb strokes across your knuckles, never letting his eyes leave your tear stained face.

ex!suguru who, despite disagreeing wholeheartedly with the decision, sees it’s for the best. he will forever hate himself for being unable to see it coming, unable to stop it — one day he suddenly notices how staying in the relationship brought you more turmoil than joy, and he didn't have the heart to hold onto you even though he so desperately wanted to. but he would ruin himself million times over for you

“it’ll be okay,” he says softly, letting himself indulge in the small acts that come so naturally to him one last time before he has to let go, hand reaching up to dry your tears and cupping your cheek. “i’ll be okay.”

with the quiet promise, he feels the stress leave your body and you rest against his touch, a sad smile painting your lips — you’re so beautiful, he thinks.

ex!suguru who lies because he knows it's what you need to hear. you had already stayed longer than you wanted because you didn’t want to hurt him. he wasn’t surprised. you were just so considerate, through and through. he had always thought the relationship was too good to be true anyways, never truly feeling worthy of you

ex!suguru who doesn’t cry, but that is because he feels numb. he can’t remember feeling a pain as intense as this one.

when your tears have stopped, only shy sniffles escaping you, he comes with one last confession. “i’m always going to love you.” he waits, hoping you would say it in return. it isn’t because you don’t love him anymore that you can’t keep going, it’s just because it isn’t working.

“i know,” you say quietly and his heart shatters.

ex!suguru who has his friends fooled because they think he is over the relationship already. he acts the same, eats the same and goes about his business the same — but that’s because it doesn’t concern anyone other than the two of you.

first weekend as a single man, gojo forces him to go out clubbing with him. he really doesn’t want to, but he can’t give his friend any excuses he will accept.

he hates every moment of it, rudely shutting down anyone that approaches him. no matter how attractive, no matter how charismatic, no matter how willing — they’re not you so what’s the point?

ex!suguru who hates the universe a little more than usual. despite his best efforts, he can’t seem to escape you entirely. and he swears he tries, but you somehow just appear every now and then.

he spots you in the grocery store, doing your daily shopping. he spots you in the line of the coffeehouse, ordering your usual drink (one he knows by heart). he sees you on every feed, posting pictures and updates of your life — you seem happy.

his heart screams for him to surrender to his desires, to approach you and hear your voice again. but he knows better, so after torturing himself by admiring you for a few seconds, he simply turns on his heel and leaves.

ex!suguru who after years still thinks about you as much as the day you left. he has tried to move on, but it feels like a betrayal, even after all this time.

has he healed? sure, a little. life goes on after all. with time he has been reunited with some sense of happiness. however it could never compare to the period of his life where he was so fortunate to be with you.

ex!suguru runs into you after nine years. and not like all the times he has simply noticed you down the street — no, you fully crash into his chest one day while walking out of a bakery.

to say he is surprised is an understatement. he has memorised all the places you used to visit so this exact scenario wouldn’t happen, and this had never been a chain you had set foot in before. but a lot changes in nine years.

“suguru, hi.” your voice is light, a rhythm in it that was not present at the end of your relationship. “wow, crazy running into you. how have you been?”

“good,” he croaks, eyes glued to your face. he still finds you as ethereal as the day you left. he wants to say more, but he is a little unsettled by how at peace you seem to be despite not being with him. “and you?”

it doesn’t go unnoticed how you present yourself as genuinely content with where you are in life. however, suguru goes through the entire heartbreak all over again — he has missed so much of your life. he used to think he would be along side you for every single moment of it. instead he is stood in front of you and feeling as if the walls are closing in on him.

his breath catches when you stretch out your hand to grab his forearm. “it was really great seeing you again,” you muse. it’s probably just wishful thinking, but he believes he hears a sadness in your voice that comes from missing him.

“you too,” he whispers, and you’re gone again.

ex!suguru who eventually comes to terms with just being alone again. before you, he always imagined this was how it would end, not the person made to share his life with someone.

you had obviously made him believe otherwise. with you by his side, waking up next to someone and sharing your meals didn’t seem so silly anymore.

but it turns out he only wanted those things if it was with you.

tags @sad-darksoul ﾉ @madaqueue ﾉ @toadtoru ﾉ @hiraethwa ﾉ @harperluvgojo

©hiraethwrote 2024 . all rights reserved. reposting, translating and otherwise plagarisim is prohibited

[retroellie]

Polluted

Summary: After a long day of work, Spencer comes home and fucks his stresses away.

A/N: This was written in literally 45 minutes but I had this idea and I couldn't make it into a full fic, my mind could only think of the smut part lmao. Enjoy!!! :)

Warnings: NSFW, slapping, degradation, squirting, unprotected sex, mean!spencer

Word count: 1.9K

Prison changed Spencer Reid, plain and simple. This is not the man you came to love. He was cruel, possessive, completely and utterly damaged. You hoped that prison wouldn't taint Spencer too much, you hoped that he would continue to be sweet little Dr. Spencer Reid. But you knew what prison could do to a person, for you locked people up daily. You knew that the system would take Spencer's old soul and soft heart into its muddy hands, squeezing them until they became one. Although sometimes in the right lighting, in the right moment, you can see a hint of Spencer in his light brown eyes.

You can't say that you hated the change in Spencer, obviously there was much work to be done before Spencer could truly be himself again. However, you could live with this change. He was hungry, feeling as though your body was the only thing that could fill that hunger. It was extremely attractive to you, his sudden hunger for you. Spencer was always using you, using your body or your mouth or your hands... just you. There was always an excuse for him to be inside of you in his mind. A man thought of looking at you? He bent you over the kitchen table. You wore a shirt that showed a bit of your chest? He dragged you into the bathroom and forced you onto your knees. You smiled at him? He would shove his face between your thighs until you couldn't even see straight.

Even on the way back home after he had gotten out of prison, he bent you over the backseat on the side of the road and fucked you roughly. It felt like you were stepping on eggshells every time around him because you never know what can set him off... it was oddly scandalous, almost arousing as the thought of how he'd fuck you next was always on your mind. A big plus was that spencer dug himself into your brain, pulling out your deepest and darkest kinks, and using them to give you earth-shattering, mind-blowing, life-changing orgasms. Now you don't think you two could ever go back to just plain sex. He had ruined you, ruined your body so much that only the thought of being hurt could get you off now.

"Fucking bitch..." Spencer spat out, his hand spreading your legs further open as his cock drilled into your soaked cunt. "That bitch looked at me like I was fucking stupid..."

His words came out breathy and jagged as he fucked into you at an animalistic pace. Spencer came home today upset, his tie being ripped off and thrown down as soon as he got into the door. You knew something was up by this action, but also the look on his face. He seemed to have a frown sewn onto his face, something that he wore most days. You asked what was wrong but you were met with him ripping off your clothes, hinting that he didn't want to talk but to fuck his frustrations into you. Now here you were, panties ripped off, legs wide open, Spencer deep inside you with his hand placed on your neck.

You couldn't tell how many times you came just in this position alone, you couldn't keep count. His hand gripped your through, affecting the way your brain functioned. You felt with every thrust of Spencer's hips you would lose brain cells... creating the dumb cock whore that Spencer ached to achieve. Spencer's hand applied more pressure to your throat as he thought of what happened at work, how while section chief Erin Strauss critiqued his work, people were being murdered.

"As if my 187 IQ wasn't enough for her." He started, his hand on your thigh being slammed down past your face and into the wooden table he was drilling you into. " I mean, I've been at this place for over 10 years... I know what I'm fucking doing"

You came again, not able to keep yourself from unraveling now. His hand on your throat was constricting your moans, completely silencing them as the only thing that could come out of your mouth was soft gurgles. You loved this feeling, knowing that at any moment if you didn't like it you could alert Spencer and he'd stop immediately. I guess you could say that Spencer's care for you never disappeared after prison, he would go on to say that it strengthened his love for you. He had this picture of you that you had sent him in one of your many letters, he kept it with him everywhere he went for it was the only thing that kept him sane.

One time a fellow inmate saw it, snatched it from him, and digested every single inch of you. He went on to explain the disgusting things he would do to you if he got the chance, that is exactly why Spencer came home to fuck you nice and good every night. Because if he wasn't the one to do it, he knew that other people would take you for granted, they would spend only minutes with you... ignoring what you needed and taking what they wanted. You would feel incomplete, unsatisfied, and completely in denial that love existed. You would assume love was only made for books and movies, that no one could show you the love you deserved. This is the love you deserve. You deserve a love that could have you coming undone over and over again, a harsh and mean kind of love but that always ended with soft kisses and a nice hot bath. A love that was sour at first but ended sweet, making sure that the words "i love you" were carved onto your skin.

"You wouldn't do that would you?" He whispered into your ear, his grip on your throat as he waited for your response. " You don't think I'm stupid ...hmm?"

His cock was too deep inside you, it was deep enough to have you going cross-eyed and unable to speak. Your moans became audible now, no longer being stuck in your throat due to his pressure being released. His pace was still inhumanly fast, not stopping even for a second. The table had started to shit forward, being scrapped across the floor and probably worrying the downstairs neighbors. You were on the verge of cumming again, your mind not even able to comprehend his question until you felt a harsh sting on your cheek. Spencer had slapped you across the face, growing impatient while waiting for your answer.

"Answer me...." He hissed out, leaning down and taking his lips to yours. He bit down on your lip, creating a pain that shot through your body. "Or I'm going to make you cum over and over and over again until you can't think of anything else besides my cock deep inside your tight little pussy..."

You could taste blood now, your lip bleeding and seeping into your mouth. His words created this deep, rough knot in your stomach. It wasn't like the rest of the orgasms you had tonight, no it was more intense. It hurt, painful with every thrust of his cock. It created a deep pain and pleasure dynamic in your body but felt like something was trying to claw itself out of your body.

"Fuck..." You screamed out, grabbing onto him and digging your fingernails into his back. "No I wouldn't! Fuck... I wouldn't! I won't!"

You finally replied, hoping with those words he would deepen his thrust if that was even possible. Spencer just grinned down at you, placing his head in between your shoulder blade and your neck. He set soft kisses to the skin, his warm lips against your burning skin. Spencer was close, your words pushing him further to the edge. The feeling inside your stomach didn't stop or dull, it only got worse. You were screaming now, Spencer's hand lingering on your neck but sitting gently on your skin. Spencer picked up his speed, the table scraping against the floor even harder.

You couldn't handle it, everything around you becoming so far away yet being so close. The feeling got to a point of feeling terrifyingly painful but also so potent of pleasure and so bewitching that you didn't want it to end now. A couple more of Spencer's deep and harsh thrusts sent you over the edge, the painful knot in your stomach snapping and shooting liquid out of your body. It was the first time you had ever squirted, the feeling so glorious that you wished it would happen every time. Your vision went out, only seeing light and hearing Spencer's soft moans as he finished inside of you. The world felt like it ended, nothing to be seen or to be experienced... just emptiness but complete fullness all at the same time.

"Good girl..." You heard Spencer's words echo through your now-empty mind. You couldn't tell if your eyes were closed or not. "You did so good for me honey... I'm so proud of you."

Those single words were all you needed to hear as you floated back to earth and into your body, you blinked a couple times... forgetting where and who you were for a split second. You came back to see Spencer brushing your hair back from your sweaty face, his face inches from yours as his face filled with concern that maybe he had broken you finally.

"There she is..." He chuckled softly, kissing your lips softly. " There's my girl..."

You gave him a weak smile, raise your hand to rest on his cheek. You rubbed it softly, feeling the growing stubble on his face. He was just as sweaty as you, his body hot to the touch. You two probably looked insane, one of you barely able to walk looking beat the hell up and the other one scratched up and drenched with liquids. Spencer gently slid himself out of you, watching you wince softly as it felt like he was connected to you at this point.

"Sorry..." He whispered, taking your hand in his as he rubbed your thigh gently "I was too rough huh?"

Rough was not even close to what Spencer was. He was brutal, sadistic, barbaric but you couldn't deny that you would choose it over compassion any day. You began to think that maybe prison was the best thing that could've happened to Spencer Reid, not only was he a genius but he now had a powerful glow to him. Shy kisses and longing gazes were a thing of the past for you two, Spencer knew what he wanted and he was going to get it.

"You were just rough enough..." I chuckled, feeling nothing but content and at peace in this moment.

Spencer laughed with you, pecking your lips one last time before pulling away from you. He looked around, his eyes landing on the couch. He smiled, walking over and leaving you but only for a second. He came back with a blanket, wrapping it around you then picking you up bridal style. You thanked him silently because you knew there was no way you were getting off the table without some kind of help.

"To the bath you go..." He joked, holding you close to him as he walked you to your shared bathroom. 

You looked into his eyes and at the right lighting, the right moment, you looked into his light brown eyes... realizing that this is Spencer Reid. This is Spencer Reid damaged, polluted, and bruised... but it was still the man you fell in love with all those years ago.

[starsjulia]

rekindling us // leah williamson

a/n : based of this request!! also so sorry it’s short, school is currently consuming my being.

trigger warnings : accidental mistreatment of spouse? idk

You weren’t a footballer like Leah. You had your own passions, your own world, but you had always been her biggest supporter. Whenever Leah was exhausted after a long day, you’d make sure the house was tidy, cook her favorite meals, and offer her the kind of quiet comfort that came without asking. You didn’t need her to tell you how much she appreciated you—you believed her actions would show it. But lately, the actions weren’t there. The little things had faded away.

Leah was constantly missing plans. The dates you had carefully planned together were brushed off with a casual “Sorry, training went long,” or “I got caught up with the girls, we’ll do it next time.” You understood, at first. You knew how demanding her schedule was, how much her career meant to her. But the cancellations became more frequent, the nights spent waiting for her to come home stretched longer, and slowly, without even realizing it, you began to feel invisible.

You continued to put in the effort, thinking maybe she would notice if you worked harder. You took on even more around the house, making sure Leah didn’t have to lift a finger when she was home. But Leah barely acknowledged it. She was so wrapped up in her own world that she didn’t see how much you were doing, or how much it hurt to be overlooked.

One evening, you decided to make a special dinner. You knew Leah had been under a lot of stress lately, so you thought a quiet evening together would help her unwind. You spent hours preparing a dish (other than party food) that you knew she’d enjoy, setting the table with candles and soft music, hoping it would be a reminder of the love and connection you shared.

But Leah didn’t come home on time. As the hours ticked by, the food grew cold, and your heart sank. When she finally walked through the door, she didn’t even notice the effort you had put in. She tossed her bag on the chair and casually said, “Sorry I’m late. The girls wanted to grab a drink after training.”

You tried to hold it together, but the disappointment was overwhelming. She had forgotten, again. Forgotten the evening you’d planned, forgotten how much you’d been waiting for her. Without saying a word, you got up and went to the bedroom, tears stinging your eyes.

Leah, oblivious at first, finally noticed the candles, the untouched dinner, the quiet emptiness in the room. Her stomach twisted with guilt as she realized she had let you down again. She stood there for a moment, unsure of what to say, before making her way to the bedroom.

She found you sitting on the edge of the bed, tears streaming down your face as you hugged your knees to your chest. The sight of you so upset shattered her. She had never seen you like this before, and it hit her hard—how much she had been neglecting you without even realizing it.

“Babe…” Leah’s voice was soft, full of regret. She knelt beside the bed, reaching for your hand, but you pulled away slightly, hurt and frustration etched into every movement.

“Do you even care anymore?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. “I’ve been trying so hard, Leah. I cook for you, clean for you, wait for you—just to spend a little time with you. But it feels like I’m not even a part of your life anymore. Like you don’t see me.”

Leah’s heart clenched painfully. She hadn’t realized how much her actions had been hurting you. She had been so focused on her career, thinking you’d understand, that she had failed to see how much you were giving and how little she had been offering in return.

“I… I didn’t know,” she said, her voice cracking with emotion. “I didn’t see how much I was hurting you, and I’m so sorry.”

You shook your head, wiping at the tears on your cheeks. “I feel like I’m doing everything for you, and it’s never enough. I just want to feel like I matter to you. Like I’m more than just someone waiting at home for you.”

Leah’s breath hitched as she took your hands in hers, holding them tightly, as if afraid to let go. “You do matter. You matter more than anything, and I’ve been too caught up in everything else to show you that. I’ve been taking you for granted, and I’m so, so sorry for that. You deserve so much more than what I’ve been giving.”

Your tears fell freely now, but this time, Leah didn’t let go. She pulled you into her arms, holding you close as if trying to make up for all the times she hadn’t. “I’m sorry for missing our dates, for not being there when you needed me. I’ve been selfish, thinking you’d just understand, but that’s not fair. I love you more than anything, and I’m going to show you that. I’ll do better. I’ll be better.”

You sobbed into her chest, the weight of everything you’d been carrying finally spilling out. “I just miss us, Leah. I miss what we used to have.”

“I miss us too,” she whispered, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head. “And I’m going to make it right. I’ll make sure you never feel like this again. I love you, and I can’t lose you. Not over something like this.”

You stayed there for a while, wrapped in each other’s arms, the silence between you no longer filled with pain but with the promise of something better. Leah’s apologies weren’t just words; you could feel the sincerity in the way she held you, in the way she promised to be more present, more aware.

In the days that followed, Leah kept her word. She made more time for you—whether it was something as simple as cooking dinner together or making sure you had a proper date night each week. She paid attention to the little things, the ones she had overlooked before. Every day, she made sure you felt loved, cherished, and appreciated.

The connection you shared began to heal, piece by piece. Leah started to see just how much you did for her, and she didn’t let a day go by without thanking you. She showed up for you, not just physically, but emotionally, and you could feel the shift in your relationship.

Leah would wrap her arms around you from behind while you cooked, pressing soft kisses to your neck and whispering, “Thank you. For everything you do. I love you so much.” You’d smile, feeling the warmth of her love and knowing she truly meant it.

It wasn’t long before you both found your rhythm again. The love between you was stronger now, forged through the realization of what truly mattered. Leah’s career would always be important, but she had finally learned that the most important part of her life was you—the person who had stood by her, supported her, and loved her through everything.

And from that point on, Leah made sure that you always knew just how much you meant to her. Because, in the end, no match, no trophy, no accolade could ever compare to the love she had with you. You were her heart, her home, and she would never let you forget it again.

[daydreaming-nerd]

The Angel of Music (Azriel x Reader)

AN: guys this is always one of my emotional support movies/plays I’ve seen it a million times so it only seemed fair that I give it the ACOTAR collab it deserves. 

Summary: It was the inner circles first time at the theater and from the way the Shadowsinger was blushing they all had a feeling it wouldn’t be the last. (the reader plays Christine Daae in Velaris’ adaptation of The Phantom Of The Opera and Azriel falls in love with her, but he’s afraid that she won’t like him because of his scars because she choose Raoul in the play) Set between ACOWAR and AOFAS

Warnings: Angst because of Azriel’s scars, shy az, but so much fluff, (just a little Az brain rot, didn't take this too seriously)

Word Count: 3,070

It wasn’t the shadowsinger's usual scene. Bustling people dressed to the nines, plush red chairs, gold sconces, orchestras. But Cassian had been tirelessly trying to make Nesta smile, and Ferye wanted to try and get her sisters together, so here he sat in the box that Rhysand had purchased for the night. 

Nesta loved the music and dancing, Elain loved the romance, and Feyre loved the costumes and color palettes of scenes. Cassian wanted to see Nesta smile, and Rhysand would do just about anything Feyre asked of him. 

In all his 500 years of life, Azriel had never thought to go to the theater. When he was a child he heard of his parents going but of course, he never got to go. As he grew the idea of going to see a show simply never crossed his mind.

When the lights went down and the orchestra came to life he spent most of his time watching Cassian, who was watching a very intrigued Nesta. He stayed that way until a clap and a spark echoed throughout the room. At first, he thought there was danger, but as soon as he turned his attention towards the stage he saw the large chandelier raise itself to life bringing the dilapidated stage with it. Golds, reds, and vibrant colors filled the room. 

Still, Azriel had trouble following the plot. But as he watched Nesta and her sisters become entranced by the music and dancing. The loud organ had stirred something in him, but he didn’t truly feel moved until her. 

Think of me, think of me fondly when we’ve said goodbye…

Azriel was sitting in a box at the edge of the theater, but even from this distance, he could tell that she was the most beautiful female he had ever seen.  He scooted to the edge of his seat a tad just to be that much closer to her. Her voice was that of a siren, no not a siren, an angel. His shadows danced around his ears and his wings at the sound of her ballad. Even the rest of the inner circle seemed to be entranced by her spell. 

As the play went on he found himself becoming irrationally jealous of Raoul. The pretty Viscount had not given her a second look at the beginning of the play. It wasn’t until the organ sounded again that the sound of her voice graced Azriel’s ears. The woman walked through a mirror towards a masked man. 

Who was this masked man? Where was he taking her? It wasn’t until Mor rested her hand to where he was gripping his chair with white knuckles that he remembered it was just a play. He sat back in his seat more, trying to tell his shadows to calm down. But as her voice climbed and climbed that beautiful crescendo they twisted and turned around him. 

Azriel spent the rest of the play being utterly entranced by the beautiful singer’s relationship with the Phantom. The masked man was dark and radical, staying in the shadows where no one could see him. He observed her from afar. Much like the shadowsinger did himself in every aspect of his life. 

It was clear to him that the Phantom was in love with Christine. So when Raoul and Christine kissed he nearly felt his heart shatter. The way the Phantom mourned, and cried, it felt all too personal to Azriel. 

I  gave you my music, made your way. And now how you’ve repaid me, denied me and betrayed me…

  From there on out Azriel found himself rooting for the Phantom, the man he saw so much of himself in. He nearly shed a tear when he found out why the man wore a mask. A scared child in a cage made to perform. 

He looked down at his mangled hands sitting on the arms of his chair. He had known a similar childhood and had suddenly wished he had something like a mask to cover such torn flesh. Maybe then the beautiful woman on stage might look at him with that same lovesick gaze, she wore now for Raoul, but he knew that could never be.

For a moment he felt joy, seeing her kiss the Phantom with such passion, such love. Only for that joy to be extinguished like a candle when she walks out with the Viscount. Of course, she would choose him, life does imitate art after all. It wasn’t until the curtain went down and the crowd erupted in thunderous applause that Azriel broke from his trance, standing to applause with them. 

“Well that was wonderful,” Feyre beamed, linking her arm with Rhysand’s. 

“I’ll say, that girl sang like an angel,” Mor gushed, fanning herself with her program as we all made our way out of the box. “Even Azriel seemed to enjoy it,” the female smirked, bumping Azriel with her shoulder. She had seen the lovesick gaze in his eyes. 

“It was so romantic the way Raoul came to rescue her,” Elain swooned, grabbing her sister's other arm. 

“Oh please, the Phantom was the obvious choice!” Nesta huffed at her sister's comment. 

“Nesta, would you like to meet the cast? Maybe talk to some of the dancers?” Feyre asked, changing the subject quickly before conflict arose. 

Nesta thought for a moment and spoke again, “Yes I would.” all she said. 

Of course, it was an easy task for Rhys to sweet-talk his way backstage, the inner circle sticking out like a sore thumb as they weaved past props, costumes, and the ensemble. Azriel’s eyes stayed ever vigilant, unable to let go of years of training as they walked down a dark hall. A cast member opened a door at the end of the hall to reveal mirrors with glimmering faelights around them. Vanities with every manor of makeup and costume jewelry. Two men he recognized as the actors who played the Viscount and the Phantom. 

The Phantom had washed off the makeup that made his face look scarred. Once again Azriel wished he too had that ability. Rhys and Feyre shook both their hands introducing them to the whole inner circle, but Azriel paid no mind. His hazel eyes were searching for a hint of her.

“Oh y/n there’s someone who wants to meet you!” called out one of the actors. 

“Oh, really who?” called a voice so melodic Azriel just knew that she had to be an angel. 

His shadows wisped around him frantically, calling out her name in his ear, like they were excited to finally know it. Rhys and Feyre’s eyes looked to their friend and smiled at one another. 

She walked around from a changing screen, tying the strings of the robe she was wearing that looked similar to the one she had worn on stage. She nearly stopped in her tracks as she saw her High Lord and Lady staring at her. 

“My Lord, My Lady,” she bows. “It is an honor.”

“No, no, please don’t bow,” Feyre rushes over, bringing the singer upright. “If anything we should be bowing to you. You sang like a goddess out there, you are truly talented.”

“Why thank you, my Lady, I’m truly happy you enjoyed the show,” she smiled and Azriel’s heart all but glowed. 

“Please call me Feyre,” the High Lady smiles, extending her hand. 

“Y/n,” the singer replied, taking her hand and shaking it. 

Azriel kept to the sidelines as the inner circle conversed with the cast and crew. Feyre and Rhys praised the play director and claimed they would be purchasing their box for the rest of the season. Nesta picked the brains of the dancers and their instructor, Cassian listening dutifully behind her. Elain chatted up the Phantom and Raoul, both actors seemingly falling for her, once again showing how life imitates art. 

Mor talked to y/n, about what? Azriel didn’t know. But the second Mor caught Az gazing at y/n she held out a hand to him. 

“Y/n I’d like you to meet Azriel, spymaster for the night court,” Mor said, beckoning Azriel over. 

Azriel quickly put his hands behind his back, not wanting to scare her with his scars. He could’ve sworn he saw her cheeks tint a shade pinker as he approached, looming over her in size. 

“How do you do?” y/n asks.

It takes a second for Azriel to realize that her angelic voice is speaking to him.

“Oh um, very well thanks.” he stutters, already feeling like a fool. Gods she was even more beautiful up close, he found himself suddenly longing for the box that offered him sanctuary, or a mask like the Phantom had. 

“Did you um, enjoy the show?” she probed and Azriel realized that Mor had conveniently dismissed herself. 

“I did,” he said quickly. “You have a beautiful voice, I could’ve listened all night.” 

Once again he swore he saw y/n blush as she looked down at her feet, “Thank you, though I think I fell flat a little in the first song. Opening night and all,” she laughed nervously and oh Cauldron, the sound of her laughter was enough to make Az take one step towards her. 

“No it was perfect, all of it.” he spat out, not standing to hear her say one more bad thing about herself. 

“Well thank you Azriel,” she said and by the fucking Cauldron she smiled at him. His name fell off her perfect lips and she smiled at him. He must’ve been dead and somehow gotten to heaven, there was no other explanation. 

The rest of the inner circle watched the pair intently. Feyre sank further into Rhysand’s side as they both realized they were watching Azriel fall in love in real-time. The yin and yang of the pair was near poetic and Feyre told herself she would pain this exact moment tomorrow morning. 

“Y/n why don’t you come to dinner with us? We would love to hear more about you,” Rhysand smiled.

His words broke the trance y/n was in, “Oh my Lord I truly wish I could, but I have an early day tomorrow and my apartment is clear across town.” She apologized. 

“No worries, it sounds like we will all be back for tomorrow night's show as well. Though I would hate for you to walk home alone,” Rhys smirked trying to get Azriel to bite at the bait.

“Not to worry I make the trek all the time,” she smiled, picking up the many vases of flowers people had left for her on her vanity. 

“Azriel could walk you home, couldn’t you Az?” Mor chimed in and Azriel shot her a look. 

“Uh, yeah I could if you’d like,” Azriel mentioned stuttering over his words as he scratched the back of his neck. 

“Oh no I wouldn’t want to take you from dinner with your family,” she assured him, picking up two large vases of flowers. 

“Not at all, I would be honored to walk you home,” the shadowsinger said a little too quickly. Feyre tried to stifle her laugh in Rhys’ side, she had never seen her spymaster so flustered. 

“Okay then,” the girl smiled and soon enough they were off down the cobblestone street, their way lit by dim faelight. 

y/n’s pov:

“Your shadows are incredible,” I smile watching as the dark wisps carry the various vases of flowers down the road. 

I had been more than happy to have the High Lord’s shadowsinger walk me home. In all honesty, I was captivated by the male the moment I set eyes on him. Sure he was hard, dressed in black, and over a foot taller than me. 

A sane woman might’ve kept her distance from the male, he was dangerous after all. But I knew the moment he spoke that he wasn’t a threat. There was a quiet and gentle calm underneath all that darkness.

“Thank you,” he says and I swear I see him blush. “They seem to really like you.” 

“They do? How can you tell?” I laugh as one of the little fellas brush against my cheek like a cat brushing against an ankle. 

“They went wild when you were singing tonight,” he chuckles, seemingly remembering how they danced. 

“Really?” I ask balking a bit. 

“I’m serious, give it a try,” he smiles, motioning for me to sing again. 

I shrug and clear my throat before singing a line from the play, “Angel of Music, hide no longer. Come to me, strange angel,” I sang softly and sure enough the little shadows danced and swirled around me. Threading themselves through my hair and around my arms where they held my vases of flowers. 

“That’s amazing,” I breathe finally watching the small wisps die down, hiding behind their master like they were shy. 

“You’re amazing,” their master spits out and then blushes. ‘

I can’t help but feel myself blush too, shying away from the hulking Illyrian. He didn’t look so tough as his shadows carried dozens of flowers behind him. He had walked down the street with his hands behind his back the whole time, not needing to lift a finger. 

The little purple door I’m so used to seeing comes into view. Outside the cottage are dozens and dozens of roses and the light inside is out. 

“I leave these here,” I say gesturing to the flowers I’m holding as I set them on the front porch. 

“Why not take them home? Were they not gifted to you?” Azriel cocks an eyebrow as his shadows place the flowers neatly next to the ones I set down. 

I laugh starting back down the path towards my place, “I get so many, I can’t possibly keep them all. Marla is an elderly woman who lost her husband years ago. It brings her joy to have them, so I leave them for her. Besides it’s not like they’re from anyone special,” I shrug, subtly dropping the hint to Azriel that I’m not otherwise engaged. 

Azriel pauses beside me and approaches a rose bush blooming near one of the cottages. Drawing his dagger, he carefully slices off a vibrant red rose. Before offering it to me, he painstakingly removes every thorn with the same blade, as if to protect my hands from even the slightest prick.

“You deserve to have at least one flower,” he says offering me the rose. 

I blush and go to reach for it when I catch sight of his hand. The mangled and marred flesh. I can’t help but feel my breath hitch as I wonder who could’ve done such a thing to such a gentle soul. The scarred hand pulls back a bit as if realizing my staring. 

“I guess I’m more Phantom than dashing Viscount,” he utters sadly, referring to my play and my role in it. My heart shatters as I see his broken expression. 

“You know,” I smile, taking the rose from his scarred hands. “I always thought that Christine should end up with The Phantom, he was clearly the better choice.” 

His head whips up as if I’ve uttered an inconceivable phrase. “Even though he had ugly scars?” Azriel inquires, his face tight like he might not want to hear whatever answer I provide.

“Who said he was ugly?” I laugh, did this beautiful specimen of a male truly believe he was ugly because his hands bore scars? 

“So you would choose the Phantom?” he cocks an eyebrow as if trying to read if I was telling the truth.

“In a heartbeat,” I affirm confidently and honestly.

He takes a step towards me, his form getting even bigger, “and what about scarred hands? Is that a deal breaker?” he probes, holding out his hands so I can see that they both harbor similar markings.  

I shake my head taking another step towards him, appreciating the beauty that is him. From the white scars that ran up his hands, to the shadows that danced around him like they they were whispering to him.

“So if I asked you to dinner after your show tomorrow?” he queries taking a step towards me as well.

“I would ask you where we are going?” I reply feeling my cheeks heat up. Was he asking me out? I tried to push the butterflies down in my stomach.

“Rita’s ?” he shrugs, stepping forward. 

“Sounds like a plan,” I smile moving towards him more, like I was compelled to.

“I’ll swing backstage after the curtain closes,” he smiles, seemingly becoming more confident in himself as we step closer together just a few feet apart.

“I’ll put your name on the list,” I say, feeling his presence pull me in. 

“And if I were to send you flowers? What kind would you like?” he interrogates further. 

I think for a moment, no one had ever asked me what flowers I might like to receive. My eyes look around as if searching for inspiration until they land on a blue siphon adorning his chest that’s right in front of me. 

“Something blue,” I blush knowing that when I see the cobalt flowers on my vanity I will know they are from him. 

“Consider it done,” he smiles and I suddenly realize that we’re mere inches apart now. 

I turn to my right where the blue door to my house beckons to be opened. Pulling out my keys I unlock it and use my shoulder to shove it open as it always gets stuck. 

“Well,” I say shyly. “Thank you for walking me home,” 

“Anytime,” he smiles looking down at his feet. 

The sight of the bashful warrior on my front doorstep has me melting. His face is so beautiful and perfectly carved I can't help but lean up on my toes and kiss his cheek. I almost regret it when it’s over but the violent red of his cheeks makes me smile again.

“Well goodnight,” I say, trying not to let my words shake in the process. 

“Goodnight,” he smiles, brushing a hand against his freshly kissed cheek.

I close the door and place the single, thornless, rose he cut for me in a vase. It isn’t until I turn on a light that I hear him take off into the night and I swear I hear him let out a grand whoop from way up in those clouds.

Permanent Taglist: @fides25, @dissociated-always @crystalferret202 , @kennedy-brooke , @sunshineangel-reads , @lilah-asteria , @evergreenlark , @cheneyq

[boyfhee]

﹙𝓲ssue﹚ㅤ:ㅤwiping their kissesㅤ...ㅤ( 엔하이픈 )

ㅤㅤ﹙1167﹚ ㅤ장르 fluff, est. relㅤㅤwarnings kissingㅤㅤᐢᗜᐢ as always, thank u sm for reading. pls rb and give feedback, it helps a lot ^_^ iNDEX

HEESEUNG

would do a double take, looking like a deer caught in the headlights. you do whine jokingly about him kissing you every minute, but never go as far as to wipe his kisses so it takes him a good minute to register what was happening. “did you just wipe my kiss?” would ask with eyes wide open and all, clearly in disbelief, almost convinced he did something wrong until he catches you holding back a smile and knows it's just another one of your little games. would quite literally engulf you in his arms, not letting you escape. “i'm going to kiss you until you're sick of it,”

JONGSEONG

jay wouldn't think of it so much the first time you do it, so he would kiss you again, brows furrowing in confusion when you wipe your lips the second time. “why are you wiping my kisses?” scowls when you don't respond. you're wiping his kisses and ignoring him, and he huffs in disbelief, looking away before giving you a sour look up and down. he leans in for another kiss and knows you're going to wipe it as well so he grabs your wrists, although with a gentle grip and kisses you again, this time making it more intimate, almost holding himself back from kissing you senseless and smirks when he pulls back sees your flustered expression. “that's what you get for wiping my kisses.”

JAEYUN

pouty, hurt, confused, surprised, panicked— every emotion listed in the dictionary. he's so sure he did something wrong to have you act this way and would he so hesitant to reach out to you in case he pisses you off again. “are you upset? did i do something? i'm so sorry—” yapping and it's apologies, it makes you feel bad for even pulling this prank on him. he gets even more confused when you start laughing, and then gives you that upside-down frown he does, it makes your heart melt. “you almost had me there, babe.” also makes you promise him that you won't pull anything like this again >_<

SUNGHOON

his ego is bruised, shattered to be honest, and he actually gives you the worst side eyes and mocking glares. “i guess we're not kissing anymore,” starts avoiding your every single attempt to kiss him later to give you a taste of your own medicine. if you manage to steal a peck, he is wiping it off, probably even feigning dismissal and disinterest. it isn't long until he's caving in because he wants to kiss you so bad but fortunately, you apologise and make up to him with hugs and kisses. “lame ass prank, shouldn't have done it if you can't keep your hands off me.” talking as if he wasn't experiencing withdrawal symptoms -⌓-

SUNOO

scoffs dramatically when you do it, knowing it's one of your silly little pranks because he always showers you in kisses and never once have you acted this way. he takes it as a challenge, giving you another kiss and his smile grows wide when you wipe it again, and this continues, getting faster and faster with both of your giggles and laughter erupting in the room. it's only a matter of time before he has you pinned on the couch, peppering your face with butterfly kisses and not giving you any opportunity to wipe them. “see, you can never escape my kisses.”

JUNGWON

is quite taken aback when he catches you wiping your lips, a bit flustered as he speaks sheepishly. “does my breath smell?” and you end up laughing, making him even more flustered. sort of laughs along with you but he is still giving you that clueless stare. “is something wrong? why are you laughing? wait, is this a prank?” he gets really self conscious but feels like he can breathe properly when you give up and tell him it's a prank, immediately giving him a kiss as an apology. “ah, you got me there.” he would still be a bit confused but would kiss you for hours later.

NI-KI

quite literally goes “eh?” when you wipe your lips after he gives you a quick peck, and then bursts into laughter as if it was an absolute knee slapper of a prank, while you're standing there all confused, giving him the '???' look. “what's so funny, 'ki?” you ask, and he would laugh even more, shaking his head while trying to compose himself. leans in to kiss you because of the look on your face but has to pull back because he ends up laughing again. “it's funny to see you wipe my kiss when you can't go a minute without them.”

[gguk-n]

Notes & Nitrous (Oscar Piastri x Jeon Jungkook's labelmate!Reader)

Series Masterlist

Face claim- IU

{Jungkook's POV}

Y/N was always nice, that was her personality. She wasn't nice because she wanted to be an idol but she was genuinely nice from the moment I met her. She was the first female solo artist under our label and debuted soon after we did. Those were tough time; while Y/N made a name for herself domestically, we were able to expand internationally which in turn brought more traffic to our company. She would always joke about how we helped her go to concerts overseas. She got along well with the other members too; but there was always something different between us, or so thought.

We were both teenagers when we became trainees. She would always ask us questions and for help and she was the only one who could call me oppa and get away with it. Even the fans noticed how she could call me oppa and no one else. When I think about it, it's mostly because I had a huge crush on her. I was in love with her for years but us dating would be scandalous so we never did, or I never asked.

Everyone treated her like BTS's younger sister. I couldn't imagine it. I wish I had the guts to ask her out.

Y/N was promoting at the same time as I was promoting seven. Going to music shows became exciting because I would find Y/N back stage and we would be goofing off. "Why'd you have to promote seven now?" she whined playfully. "Why?" I asked confused. "I can't win a single time now, until your song stops being nominated" she laughed. "I can stop" I stated. "No, no, oppa, I was joking. The fans love the single; I was just teasing you. I've won enough trophies at this point" she quickly corrected.

We were both done with our promotions and were at the company recording. I had asked her to do a demo for a few of my songs and she was giving feedback on how I could do them. I saw how her eyes sparkled and the way it made my heart beat really fast when she spoke. I found myself staring at her lips, I have no clue what took over me but I suddenly kissed her. She stopped speaking and then I felt it, the sudden push. "Oppa" she screamed. I was shocked, the feeling of her lips still on mine as I traced my lips. "What was that?" she asked. "I...I like you Y/N, so much for so long now" I mumbled. Her shoulders slumped, "I'm sorry oppa but I don't feel that way." she said. "I thought..." I trailed off. "I'm sorry if I gave you the wrong idea. I just hope you will forget this" she said. "Why? Is it because of the dating ban" I asked. "What? NO, Oppa, we are veterans at this point. I just never saw you as anyone but an older brother. Someone to lean on or ask for help" she explained. My heart shattered and I couldn't even say anything. I felt tears prick my eyes. "I'm sorry, I really am. I just hope we can be friends" she begged. "I'm sorry Y/N but I need time. Can you leave?" I asked. "I'm sorry again. I hope we can be friends again" she said while walking out.

y/n.y/l/n

Liked by oscarpiastri and 267,803 others

y/n.y/l/n 3 sold out shows in Melbourne!! Thank you everyone who came. Can't wait to see you guys in Manila next!💗💗

user8 언니 너 너무 예뻐 🥹🥹unnie you are so pretty user9 Love all your shows❤️❤️ user10 Oscar was at that show and I saw him too, I think I can die happy now😭😭 user11 She doesn't have a bad angle🥵🥵 user12😘😘 oscarpiastri 🤤🤤 user13 please behave yourself Oscar🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️

{Oscar's POV}

I walked into the McLaren garage for the meeting before the race when Zak introduced me to Y/N Y/L/N. They listened to me and invited her, when did they ever do that, my brain was short circuiting. She raised her hand to greet me, "I'M A HUGE FAN" I blurted out, quickly covering my mouth. She smiled, "I saw, the fans were talking about some Oscar at my show, so I checked and they didn't disappoint" she said winking at me. I could die happy now. "It's nice to meet you, you've helped my fan base expand" she chuckled. I laughed nervously. She turned her attention to Lando who had walked in and spoke to him for a few moments while I watched.

"Mate, you're sweating so much, don't be nervous you drive Formula One cars for a living for fucks sake" Lando joked as he saw me stare at her. "How can I not? She's my celebrity crush" I stated. "Ask her out" Lando said simply. "What? NO?" I denied. "Come on, she was flirting with you since she got here. The worse she could say is no and you will never see her" Lando reasoned. "But..." I stammered. "You wanted to meet her that's why you asked to invite her and now that she's here you won't even shoot your shot" Lando questioned.

So, eventually I did pluck up the courage and walked up to her. She was taking a few pictures when I stood in front of her, "Hey Oscar" she greeted putting her phone away. "Hi. Are you in town for a few more days?" I asked. "yeah, my concerts in a few days" she said. "Would you like to go out with me?" I asked trying to sound as confident as I could be. She smiled, "yes, I would love that" she said. "Great! Then dinner tomorrow at 8?" I suggested. "Done. Can't wait" she commented. I walked to the car with a pip in my step, my celebrity crush just said yes to going out with me.

y/n.y/l/n

Liked by oscarpiastri, mclaren and 890,296 others

y/n.y/l/n First formula one race of my life!! Thank you mclaren for having me🧡🧡

mclaren don't mention it but you should thank our driver tbh😏🤔 user14 no way Oscar suggested to invite her🥹🥹 user15 She looks so good in orange, I could never😘😍😍 user16 that outfit😍😍 user17 Is no one gonna talk about how she changed her outfit at the paddock?🙂‍↔️🙂‍↔️ user18 I would've fainted if I was Oscar🫣👀👀 landonorris user18 he almost did🫢🫢 user18 landonorris OMG!! YOU RPELIED oscarpiastri we loved having you, come back soon🧡 Liked by the author y/n.y/l/n oscarpiastri I would love to be back if you'll invite me😉 user19 what is going on between Oscar and Y/N?😌🫣 user20 user19 they're just being nice to each other, shut up🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️

[ajortga]

just too late

pairing: tara carpenter x fem!reader

summary: where tara can't help but regret the outcome of her consequences, she was just too late. how can a heart love if it is no longer beating?

warnings: massive angst, death, stabbing, blood

word count: 3.5k+

a/n: based of a request i got on wp! honestly, i wrote this months ago and got to the end, but their request was so similar that i redid it. posting a small second part soon<3 also omg, thank you for 500 followers!

-

You had just visited Tara, a bouquet of roses in one hand as you knocked on the door. You had seen them when walking to her apartment and you knew that they were just perfect for her. You had to get them. As you heard the lock of the door click, Tara opened the door. She peeked out and saw you, smiling shyly. You thought she'd smile back, but instead her smile dropped. 

That had never happened before. 

"Y/N, we need to talk.

You knew something was wrong, something bad was going to happen. Your breath got stuck in your throat as she stepped aside to let you in. You knew the next thing that would happen would not be good.

 fast forward 20 minutes

You stood there in Tara's apartment, Sam eyeing you with a penetrating death glare. You felt like sinking into the floor right there and then. You hated this kind of silence. 

Sam broke the quietness, her gaze stern, "Y/N, this isn't going to work out between you and Tara." She states, crossing her legs as she sighs, "All of it just adds up."

You shake your head, but before you can retaliate, Sam speaks again.

"You know it too. You started dating my sister two weeks prior before the first ghostface attack. The police found your necklace right next to the victim, covered in blood. I can't trust you and have you near my sister. All of us," she states, twirling her finger in a circle, "Are in danger and I can't let my baby sister get hurt again. None of us trust you, not Mindy, not Chad, and definitely not me. You are going to stay away from her, no more coming over or seeing each other at school. Do I make myself clear?"

"You believe a piece of evidence that barely proves anything? They didn't even find my DNA anywhere!"

"Gloves."

You felt rage crawling its way out, you couldn't believe your girlfriend's sister would think you're the killer. Sam knows all too well how much Tara loves you. "You know I wouldn't hurt you! Least of all Tara! I love her with my whole heart and I would never even think of that! I-I don't know how my necklace got there, someone framed me!" You turned to Tara, blinking away tears that stung your eyes, "Tar.. You believe me right? Please tell her. I didn't do anything! Please don't leave me."

"Please.." you begged. You saw the way her gaze slightly cracked, you knew she didn't believe you. You could feel it, you wouldn't care for fucks sake if Mindy, Chad, or Sam didn't believe you. But Tara was different. It felt like a swing to the heart, it hurt so much. It felt heavy.

Tara didn't do anything but give you a hurt look, staring down at her fingers. You expect her to throw her arms around you, tell you that they all got it wrong and you can both live happily ever after in the end. Yet she doesn't.

"I'm sorry Y/N," she forces her shattered voice in her normal tone, swallowing a cry clawing to come out, "I don't trust you anymore, I don't love you. I-I never did. I just.. Don't think you should visit anymore. We're done."

You felt like your whole heart shattered at that moment as you heard her last two words. You looked at her as you sobbed in your hands. Hurt, mournful, betrayed.

All that Tara said was, "You need to get out please," her eyes pink and glossy.

"You don't understand Tara, please I'm begging you-"

"Y/N, I'm not going to say it twi- It's n-not me Tara!" you say, this point a small cry escaping you. The way Tara looks at you is wild.

Your girlfriend's voice raised, with a fury, she wasn't going to say it again, "Get the hell out! Do you need me to say i-it twice? I don't fucking love you! I don't want to see your face again!"

You flinched, you never felt more heartbroken in your life. Your heart hurt, it felt like someone had smashed it with a hammer. Tears that threatened to fall down were now dropping on the floor. All the moments you've spent together were now thrown away, stomped on. You felt your body shaking as you toss the flowers, leaving them to fall on the floor with a thud. 

You simply nod, slowly.

"Fine." You say, more flat than ever, turning to leave as you feel the petals get stepped on by your shoe. 

All you wanted was to brighten your girlfriend's day, entering with flowers in your hand and just wanting to cuddle her all day long. Yet, here you are, your girlfriend now turning into you ex, flowers dead, no cuddles, no more trust.

Tara felt horrible, the guilt eating her alive. All of her words were lies, she just knew that if you were to separate from her, she would keep you safe. You wouldn't be the target for ghostface if he thought you were just a normal person in Woodsboro. You would be safe. She tried to assure herself that as you slammed the door. 

Her eyes met the squished flower that escaped from the bouquet on the floor and she wondered if she'd ever get flowers from you again after everything.

-

You stared at the picture frame placed on the counter of you and Tara together hugging with matching clothes, you choked on your sobs. Tara nor your friend group had chatted with you since then. Sam had blocked you on social media. At least your other friends had came along and checked up on you to make sure you were okay. Tara had sent a few messages, saying she was sorry that things had ended up like this, but to realize you blocked her.

You couldn't function properly, your eyes were dry with the amount of tears you released in the past week.

It's not your fault, you tried to assure yourself. You weren't ghostface. You can't believe the person you trusted most didn't even put her trust in you.

Maybe it all is your fault. Maybe if you were different, in personality, how much the core 4 really liked you, you wouldn't be here, crying like those teens in the movies that just feast on a gallon of ice cream. It makes you cry a little harder while you hug your teddy bear.

Especially the taunting memory of Tara screaming at you, tears blurring your vision as you stumbled back out of her apartment. Sam's eyes softening just a little bit, not meaning for this to happen. Yet you didn't even try looking into her eyes, too caught up with your own feelings to feel her sorrow.

The past few days, you've locked yourself up, abandoned school. Ignored the core 4, blocked Tara and the other three.

Your mind wandered, you were clouded in your own thoughts as you sobbed angry and hurtful tears. You cried to the point where tears stopped falling, and you were left with feeling nothing and your body feeling sore. Your breathing was still heavy, you let out heavy shaky breaths, but they started to cool down.

You closed your eyes, focusing on your breathing, until you heard your phone buzz from the ground. You picked it up, there was a message.

A part of you expected your friends to check up on you, since that's what they've been doing every since you've stopped going to school. Instead, you were met with a picture from unknown of the abandoned movie theater not too far from here. There, you saw the camera facing a knife pointing towards Tara and Sam, threatening, daring. 

Your eyes widened, as you immediately take your keys and bust out the door, grabbing a small knife, maybe you'll need it, unblocking Tara and calling her and all of those you knew must be in there. They're in danger.

Each call leads to voicemail, from both Tara and Sam, you search up their location. The only one shared for you is Tara's. You almost smash it to the front of your phone holder, locating where they are at.

As much as you hurt, you knew that you would never heal knowing that someone you loved was at risk. The car engine roars to life as you head for the theater.

With each texts and call ignored, you get paranoid, worried sick. Stepping on the accelerator of the car, your car turns a corner and is out of sight.

"She fell for it, she's coming your way," a taunting voice rasps into their phone, Ghostface.

"Our plan is just setting into action."

-

Carefully, you slip into the door of the run down theater. You hear clatters, and immediately you freeze, hiding a corner and peeking out. Tara's scream echoes through the theater, your eyes widen and you look around, for something sharp. 

This is a stupid shrine committed to ghostface, you realize. It makes it a little better, at least you're guaranteed a knife to defend and fight with?

You sweep a corner, the room your in is silent, and you creek down the floor board, being greeted with glass display cases.

You're not good with blood, yet there's evidence from ghostface's mark years ago. TV's, a knife laced in the red crimson color. A gag almost leaves your lips, yet you open the display case and your hands grasp around  a cool metal. It's a knife alright, not too sharp if you were to drop it you wouldn't cut your whole toe off. Yet it's do-able. 

"Tara?" your voice echoes, walking around and exploring, you're frantic. You keep hearing her voice mail ring through your ears and your worry increases.

You thought the room you were in was obsessive with ghostface, yet when you go into the middle of this shrine, it's filled with obsessive things. Masks, robes, knives, even the TV that Stu Macher was killed by. A shiver escapes you.

You look up, and you see the chaos going, glass shattered on the floor, action buzzing around. You see Tara.

"Tara!" You shout, trying to keep your voice low, your eyes meeting the ladder that goes up, you climb on it, grunting in effort. You climb, climb, climb, climb, until you reach the top.

Tara is with Sam, they're talking about their plan, they're a couple hundred feet away from you. The sister's clothes are smothered in blood, Sam's arm has a wound, and you feel sick seeing the blood seeping from your girlfriend's clothes. 

Your about to say her name, until you see a shadow emerge. It's not any that you know, this one is dark, tall, more man-like. 

It's not until you see the tilt of their head the sliver of light reflecting off their mask. Ghost face. 

You don't know what gotten into you from the adrenaline from the moment, but your legs begin to run, move, nothing sounds more fitting than slow motion. His knife lifts from his chest, the sharp metal edge glistening.

You try to scream, the words bubble up in your throat, comes out in a dry cough.

Your legs feel like jelly, run faster, damnit. 

They can't see him, he's behind them, tucked just 2 feet away in a corner, yet you see him. You can save Tara and her older sister, you can save the both of them, you have time. 

You can save the both of them, your love outplays your brain. It's telling you to stop, you're going to get killed. But your heart overwhelms it, beating quicker, with each beat all you can hear is 

Tara

Tara

Tara

Save

Her!

Tara

You

Have

Time.

The knife ghostface is holding gets brought down.

"Tara!" You finally scream, it comes out as a desperate cry as you lunge towards her. Her eyes turn from the setting below her to you, confusion, then shock as your hands shove her shoulders. The strength you built up finally goes to use, pushing her out of harms way, she shoves into Sam, as they both stumble back. 

You hear them both say your name, confusion at first, before the second time they holler it out. It's a scream, yet it dies down in your ears, feeling the cool metal of the blade slam into your shoulder. The ring from Tara's screams fade, replaced with the blood pulsing in your ears. The pain, the sharp knife sinking into the flesh of your shoulder. All you can do is let out a soft cry, too tired to scream. 

Your eyes water, looking up at ghostface, the ugly mask boring into your eyes. He tilts his head, shocked for a moment. Until he tilts his head back again, like the target he hit is even better than what he wanted. They didn't expect you so soon.

The knife tears out from your flesh, a sob leaves your throat, kicking and flaring your arms. 

"Y/N!" Tara screams your name, this one you can hear. She's crying, sobbing, wailing. Begging for her older sister to let her go and save you. 

Sam shushes her, all they can do is watch. All Tara can do is watch you suffer.

His knife slams into you again, your abdomen. You hear a disgusting squelch as it goes in. The pain is unbearable, this stab hurts even more than anything you can think about. You thought the 4 foot thorn going through your foot was bad. You cry, grabbing the knife that's tucked into your pocket and slam it against the black coat, right where the neck meets the shoulder.

A raspy whisper escapes your lips, "F-fuck you." You snarl.

You barely hear him grunt. Yet he doesn't back down, in fact, you hear the disgusting squelch again.

And again.

And again.

The pain lessens. You know why. You're dying.

You can't hear it anymore, but there are now several stabs on your abdomen. You collapse, blood seeping through your clothes, your hands, your face. It's warm, dark red, spreading. It oozes out of your wounds, and the squelching sounds are gone. Your eyes flutter, seeing the flurry of the white masked figure leaving you to rot. Your body collapses to the floor with a loud crash.

You saved Tara, you would die before he could ever kill her. Before she could ever die. If Tara died, you'd kill yourself, or you'd die quicker from a broken heart. 

Sam's yelling, kicking ghostface as he lets go of you, you can barely see her bringing him down to the bottom floor, both of them collapsing off the second story.

Your eyes begin to close, your breath comes in short heaves and wheezes.

And then, you see her, barely, through your weak vision.

It's blurry at first, but you know it's Tara, who else would look so good with blood all over her face?

She presses her body down to you, her warmth barely seeping through, your body is colder. Those warm, soft eyes are wide, looking so scared, hands pressing down deeper to your stomach, trying to stop the bleeding.

"Fuck, no. Nononono.. Why the hell would you do that?" She yells at you, shaking your body, you whimper.

You barely respond, croak her name out, cough out blood.

She's crying, you realize, she's choking on sobs as she cradles you, lifting your body up to her chest. She smells like your favorite scent, sweet.. light.. vanilla.. So lovely.

You just want to be in her arms forever. Let her sweetness soothe the pain.

"Y/N," she sobs, seeing the way you're struggling to stay conscious, you're only holding on because she's there. She can tell the way your eyes are slowly glassing over, your vision is twitching, blurring, un-focusing. 

Don't cry, you want to tell her, even though you know you're here, dying in your girlfriend's arms. But you're too weak to speak, instead, let a slurred murmur leave you. Her hand is clinging to yours, like if she were to let go you would immediately fall away.

"It's okay baby," Tara sniffs, clinging to you. Like if she lets go you'll shatter, "I'm here, help will come soon. Stay with me. Eyes on me baby."

You look at her, your girlfriend, being in her arms. She has a small wound, around her arm to her shoulder, yet it's barely bleeding. Being here, in her arms. It's your favorite thing ever, you've done it so many times to feel her warmth. You never thought you would not be in Tara's arms at night with you buried against her.

Yet you know it's your last time you'll be in them. You can barely feel the warmth she's trying to transfer to you, you're freezing. She senses it too, the way she's hugging you tighter. Pleading you to stay here, with her. The brunette squeezes your hand, distracts you from the pain that's already leaving. Along with your pulse. 

"I'm so fucking sorry," she sobs, "I love you so much, you don't fucking understand," she wails. Pulls you closer to her, "I should have never left you, you mean the world to me, I never meant what I said. I t-thought I could protect you if ghostface knew that you were no longer in our circle."

You wheeze, your eyes never looking away from hers. She notices, how you're studying her, like the moment you don't, you'll forget how she looks like in heaven. 

Freckles, doe-shaped crying eyes. You lift her hand to your chest, let her feel your heart, to let her know that your giving her your heart, your love. You don't want her to forget about you. 

You don't want to die.

Yet if you don't want her to die, you'll die before she could ever. 

Tara's still sobbing, ripping her shirt and tying it against your stomach, the blood seeps through, she tightens it. Looks worriedly down at you. 

Ugly shapes of swiggles and dots cloud, you see random shapes flying. Try to focus on Tara.

Sirens ring in the distance, Tara looks back, yet immediately looks back at you. A tear falls from her stained mascara cheeks, down your shirt. Weakly, you bring it up and wipe her cheeks. Assure her it'll be okay. Yet she knows it's not. They're just too fucking late.

You saved her. That's all that matters now.

"It's all my fault, I'm so sorry my love. I never meant to hurt you. I never thought it would end so soon. I don't want you to die."

You swallow, blood slightly gurgles through your throat, use your dying strength to speak, "I'm h-here." You croak, "T-tara."

"I love you so much," you slur, hiccupping on a cry. Trace the matching necklace she gifted the two of you years past on her neck. You're wearing it too.  Hers was silver, yours was gold. A silver and golden dove.

The blood loss is too much, you can barely speak. But she's here with you, in your last moments. You're able to have a goodbye you might not have had. She might not be ready, but you almost are.

Time wasn't in your favor. It really wasn't. 

This isn't goodbye this is a simply see you later.

She's okay, knowing that makes you feel a little more okay. A little more okay and soothe the worries.

Tara plays with your necklace. A proper goodbye. Her eyes glisten with tears, and she leans down, presses her lips to yours. You kiss her, knowing it'll be the one you'll live to feel. Then you slump back down on the concrete. You don't care about anyone but her anymore. Sirens holler, people bust into the theater, and you look up at her, taking off her necklace and putting it into the palm of her hand.

"I w-want you to promise me one thing."

She sniffles, tears wont stop anytime soon, keeps tying cloth around your deep wounds. It's no use. She nods, "Y-yeah?"

"Promise me y-you won't forget me. E-even when you find someone you love, maybe even more than me. You won't t-throw.." You pause, coughing, "T-throw our memories away.  Promise me that. That when your h-hands hold theirs, you realize that mine was once warmer. When you're by yourself on F-Friday nights, you'll remember that you used to come to mine and cuddle m-me." You hiccup, losing your train of thought, blinking, your words are barely audible, yet Tara can still make them out.

"...When you look at the stars on the grassy meadow, you'll remember that that's the spot we always w-went to to get our thoughts out of things," you barely giggle, it hurts your stomach. "A-and, when you look at all my pictures, or maybe one day I won't pass your mind for once, you'll be ready to let me go. The thought of me still being here. Y-you'll be able to love, even though I might still scar your heart."

She sniffles, seeing the way you begin to struggle on your words, they grow quieter.

"But I won't let that happen, I don't want your h-heart t-to scar," You place her hand on your chest again, "You can have mine."

Tara swallows her tears, still, they drop.

"I love you, Y/N," she sniffles, it's the same word from every other time you both said you loved each other. Yet this time, it's so fucking different. It's the last time you'll ever hear her say it to you while you're still hear. "I'll never love anyone more than I loved you."

"I love you too, Tara," you whisper. It's the last time she'll ever hear it from you. A small, weak smile cracks on your face as she leans down one more time, kisses you softly, taking the last breath from your lips.

And it's time to go. Your chest stills.

And for the last time, she hears your heart beat one more time.

A heart that once beat for her was gone.

[dira333]

Of Lovers and Friends - Ushijima x Reader

thank you @screamin-abt-haikyuu talking to you is inspiring

If you find a typo, I wrote this instead of going to bed. Goodnight.

“Just a Tonic Water, please,” You order, well aware of all the eyes on you.

“Are you sick?” Kindaichi asks, already pressing a hand against your forehead.

“Pregnant?” Kunimi’s next, though less serious.

“As if, you can’t get pregnant from RPG,” Makki points out, licking foam off his lip.

“You would know,” you tell him, a little peeved, as you push Kindaichi away.

“I’m fine. I just have a date later.”

Yahabi whistles, clearly impressed. God, you need to amp up your game. This is just sad.

“Who is it?” Kyoutani asks, forever your best friend. Or at least the one guy who’s seemingly the least interested in teasing you.

“I don’t know, my Mom set us up. She went to school with his Mom or something like that. I just know that he plays Volleyball and is about my age.”

“Could be anyone,” Watari mumbles into his Aperol Spritz.

“Could be Ushijima,” Mattsun jokes, causing Makki to choke on his beer, spluttering as he bellows out a laugh.

“Can you imagine? That would be hilarious!”

“Har har har,” you thank the waitress for your drink and lean back in your chair, “Can we change the topic? Does Makki have a job yet?”

“Uncalled for!” Makki points an accusing finger at you. “And no. But a little birdy told me that Kyoutani’s got a fangirl.”

Kyoutani blushes, glaring into his drink. The girl must mean something to him if he’s trying to pull himself together like this. You swerve to look at Kindaichi who’s managed to spill his diet coke - again.

“What about you? Did you call that girl we met at the coffee shop?”

“No,” he ducks his head. “I didn’t. I was… I didn’t want to make a fool out of myself.”

“Yeah, well, you did,” Makki lets his eyes wander as usual, “Tell you what. There’s a nice girl with her friends two tables over. We’ll get you her number but you have to call. Or at least send her some funny memes, okay?”

“Okay,” Kindaichi’s looking at you. Makki’s looking at you.

You groan and get up. “Next time you get someone else to get that number, okay? This is the last time.”

“Love you too, pumpkin!” Makki calls after you as you make your way over. These patterns have turned familiar.

-

You should have gotten a beer, you think two hours later as you wait, your legs twitching with anxiety. 

You’ve been painfully single for so long that you can’t help but feel you should have worn a dress or at least something more fancy than the jeans and top combo you’re sporting. But it’s comfy and it sets you at ease. And you’ve always been an advocate for being yourself on the first date. If they don’t like you like that, they won’t matter anyway.

So far that has brought you a lot of first dates and not a lot of second dates.

A deep voice calls out your name. You turn, your hands clutching the single purple carnation you had to bring - your mother’s idea. 

You spot the flower first, a tiny purple thing held in massive hands. He’s tall, impressively so. You let your eyes wander up as he walks over, the flickering street light casting long shadows over his face until he’s reached you and the soft warm glow of the restaurant behind you. 

Your heart skips a painful beat as he attempts a rather forced smile.

“Ushijima-kun,” you stutter, the confidence earned in twenty-something years shattered and replaced by the anxious brain of a teenager.

He offers you his hand, the one without the flower and you take it. His palm swallows yours, his grip warm and firm. If you can blend out the history your team has with his, that your friends have with him, you can give him a chance, right?

-

“Are you close with your mother?” He asks in the tense moment when the food’s already been ordered and the drinks aren’t served yet. It’s the worst possible question to ask, too, because no, you’re not close. Not since she went through with the divorce, unable to settle with a man ever since, as dissatisfied with them as she is with life, her business, you.

You don’t ramble often, but you do when you’re nervous. 

If he’s taken aback by the flood of words, of trauma seemingly long overcome, he does not show. He’s like a rock, sitting steadfast in the crashing river of your emotions, unmoving, sturdy.

When you’re finished, throat a little dry, he nods slowly. 

“My parents are divorced as well,” he says. You wonder if he’s told it often. 

“How was it for you?” You ask and the surprise in his eyes tells you that he hasn’t been asked this before. 

His tale is told more slowly. He hands out information bit by bit, always confirming that you’re still listening, still interested in what he has to say about this topic. You share a bottle of wine over his parent's divorce, the main dish just an accessory to the topic at hand. 

When his words run dry and the last drop of wine is poured into your glass, your mind a little fuzzy and his lips tinted a little blue, you are full and empty at the same time. All the anxiety has left you over dinner. 

Seijoh and your friends are far, far away but Ushijima - Wakatoshi, as he asks you to call him - is right there.

“Do you want to share dessert?” You ask and his eyes light up with a new emotion, one you haven’t seen before on him. It’s a little softer, makes him look a little younger, maybe.

“Do you like chocolate?” He asks, leaning forward a bit as if to share a secret.

“Who doesn’t?” You ask back and learn about his best friend.

-

“This was nice,” you say when he walks you to the train station, slowing his steps to be in tune with yours. The cold night air does wonders for your fuzzy brain but the chill is less pleasant. You shiver.

“Here.” A warm weight settles over your shoulders. His jacket drapes over your skin like it was made for this. It smells good, too. 

It’s not the first time you wonder if there will be a second date. But it’s the first time you really, really hope there is.

The train station appears much too soon. You want to prolong this evening, stay longer in this emotion that you cannot name. But you’re a realist at heart and you slip his jacket off before you become too used to its warmth.

“Keep it,” his large hand stops your movement, easily takes hold of yours. “You can give it back the next time.”

“Next time?” You ask, unable to keep that hopeful tone out of your voice. 

“I don’t have much free time,” Wakatoshi explains, “Could we meet again in a week? Same time, same place?”

You nod, much too eager to come off as nonchalant. It reminds you of Kindaichi, but you cannot bring yourself to care. You give him your number and feel your lips slip into a smile when he immediately texts you so that you have his as well.

Overhead your trains arrival is announced. You turn, still unwilling to part.

“Until Friday,” Wakatoshi says, one last wave. “Good night.”

- - -

You sleep well, better than you have in days.

It’s only when you wake up that you realize what this means.

You have a second date. The first in a long time. 

But as excited as you are for it, dread still settles in your stomach. How on earth will you explain this to your friends?

The answer is, you don’t.

When you meet up for beers and games on wednesday, Makki consolingly pats your shoulder. He seems to think your date went awful and you do nothing to correct him. You only feel a little guilty. It’s his fault for not even asking.

The others seem to already have forgotten. The news of Kindaichi getting a first date is more exciting and you let yourself get dragged into it, give him fashion advice - that goes ignored - and laugh with the others when Yahaba tries to fix his hair.

It’s only Friday afternoon that your nerves make themselves known.

Surely there’s nothing wrong in dressing similar again. Wakatoshi didn’t seem to mind and neither should you.

But you want to, you desperately want to… look a little better. You want him to look at you, unable to catch his breath, unable to form words, at least for a few seconds. Is that too much to ask for?

But you don’t own any Make-up, courtesy of rebelling against everything that makes you think of your mother. So you do the next best thing and call Mattsun.

“I’m not late,” he answers, immediately defensive. Right, you’re still on for drinks before the date. You can’t think about that now.

“I don’t care. Get your girlfriend on the phone, I need help.”

“What? Why?”

“Girls-stuff, you wouldn’t understand.” 

Miri agrees to join you for drinks. According to her she won’t need more than ten minutes in the bar bathroom to give you a little bit of an extra kick.

“You don’t want to look too different to what he’s seen the last time,” she reasons as you go over the few options of fancier clothes you have.

You're anxious the whole time, nurse one soda after the other. Even Kunimi notices.

“Second date?” Kyoutani asks. Makki’s eyes widen in surprise. You hate it.

“Maybe,” you grumble, getting up to pee once more. 

“What? You didn’t tell us the first one went well.”

“You didn’t ask,” you tell him as you make your escape to the bathroom. But this is Makki. He doesn’t let go of a topic.

“What’s his name?” He asks as soon as you’re back. “What team does he play for?”

“Let me get through this date first,” you huff, trying to sound more relaxed than you are. 

“He’s nice?” Kyoutani asks, able to put a threat and a question and a whole lot of worry in those few words. 

“Yeah,” you say, a little flustered just by the thought of him. The boys go silent around you. 

“Wow, you really like that guy,” Mattsun points out. 

“Shut up,” you grumble and empty your glass, calling for another. You don’t want to talk about it.

“Anyway,” Miri points out and you’ll forever be thankful for that, for her switching topics when you need it most, “Mattsun and I have decided to move together. We’re still debating about which apartment to move into, though.”

“Are you for real?” Makki’s always the first to put in his two cents, “Miri’s apartment is way better.”

Miri laughs. “Thank you Makki, I knew I could count on you.”

-

“There, done.” Miri steps away. You look at yourself in the mirror, the knots in your stomach slowly loosening. You don’t look like a clown, not like your mother either. 

“What did you do?” You ask, a little perplexed by how long your lashes suddenly are. 

“Mascara and some eyeliner. A little lipgloss too, you can reapply it when you’re at the restaurant.”

“Thank you.”

“Anytime. If you want, we can go shopping for some of this stuff. You don’t need much and I can show you how to do the little things you might want to do sometimes.”

“Ah,” you look away, embarrassed, “Let me get through this date first.”

Miri smiles, understanding visible in her eyes. 

“Go get him, tiger,” she tells you when you part ways.

- - -

Wakatoshi is already waiting for you. 

Warmth pools in your stomach when he stills at your sight, his eyes warm as they wander over your face. 

“You look beautiful,” he tells you and you have to look away, too flustered to face him for a second.

“Am I not beautiful all the time?” You joke, hoping against hope that he does not notice the way your voice breaks slightly.

“Of course,” Wakatoshi tells you immediately, not an ounce of insincerity in his voice. You have to swallow twice before you’re able to talk again.

“You’re very pretty too,” your voice is doing funny things. You offer your hand to shake, a little unsure of what greeting is correct. He takes your hand in his, not to shake it, but to hold it all the way to the table and you’re unable to look anyone in the eyes until you’re seated, your insides a fluttery mess.

-

“Can I see you again?” Wakatoshi asks when you reach the train station, his jacket a comforting weight on your shoulders, your hand resting in his.

You nod, unable to hide your eagerness. 

You can’t blame the buzzing of your mind on alcohol this time. He’s calmly explained that he can’t drink often with his strict diet, has to choose between dessert or a glass of wine most of the time. It didn’t feel right to drink when he wasn’t allowed to.

Somehow your conversations feel deeper, more meaningful without the alcohol coating them. You know he means it when he asks and he knows you mean it when you nod.

Overhead, your train is announced. You don’t let go of his hand.

“I could do a little walk,” you say, “What do you say?”

You kiss his cheek when you eventually part. His skin is soft and warm underneath your lips. It follows you into your dreams.

-

On Wednesday you get a text just as you head out to meet the boys for beers and games.

“I’ve got out of practice earlier. Do you want to go for a walk?”

You go back inside, put on the lipgloss Miri had lent you as you text him your confirmation. You think about kissing him and wipe it off again, unsure of what you want. In the end you put it into your pocket just in case.

“Can’t come today, I have another date,” you text the group chat. 

Makki’s the first to answer, per usual, but his use of emojis has your anxiety rising so you put your phone on silent. You’ll deal with this on Friday.

It’s not yet time for the Sakura blossoms, but the park is beautiful anyway.

Not that you can focus on much besides the feeling of your hand in his, the way his voice rumbles in his chest as he talks about practice and his plans to meet up with his old teammates. 

You like this, the calmness of it all. You like him, with his serious expression and his direct way of asking. You like how he never fails to ask how your day has been, how he’s interested in all aspects of your work, even the little ones that no one seems to care about.

You like him, a lot. And if the way he looks at you is any indication, he likes you too. 

It’s when you’re on your way back, the setting sun bringing forth a chill, that someone calls your name.

You turn, your hand still firmly in Wakatoshi’s grasp, only to spot Kyoutani. He’s frozen on a near path and you know with certainty that he’s recognized your date. Your heart beats painfully in your throat and you feel sick.

“Everything okay?” Wakatoshi asks at the same time the girl next to Kyoutani pulls her massive scarf down to look at you. She looks familiar, blond hair, brown eyes, petite figure. It’s only when she opens her mouth to ask Kyoutani what’s going on that you recongize her. She’d been Karasuno’s volleyball manager. Yachi something.

Kyoutani seems to realize that you’ve recognized her because his face turns dark. He shakes his head at Yachi, points into the distance and leads her away. 

You’re still frozen next to Wakatoshi, realization washing over you like the cold floods of the  Tamagawa. 

“Is everything okay?” He asks again, cradling your face in his hands to make you look at him. You blink to clear your mind, wish you could just lean into his touch and disappear forever.

“You know what school I went to, right?”

“Aoba Johsai, yes. You were a manager for their volleyball team.”

“Yes,” He must have realized the truth already, still he asks you to say it out loud. “I’m still friends with the team, like you are with yours. They are not… They’re not fans of you.”

“I understand.” Wakatoshi nods. His hands slip away from your face, you miss them immediately.

You didn’t plan for it to go like this. He’s got an uncanny ability to make you open yourself up. Being vulnerable feels less scary when it’s him. 

He takes your hand again, guides you around the park for another round as you tell him all there is to know about your poor attempts at dating. How it sucks to be “just one of the boys” sometimes. How it hurts that they don’t even ask anymore if you’ve got a second date. How scary it is to admit to them that you’re dating him.

You bite your tongue after those last words. You’ve been on two dates so far, this is your third. Is it too forward to call this “dating”? What if he’s not-

“I understand if you want to keep this a secret for longer,” he says. His voice is heavy in a way that tells you that there’s more to it. 

Two things can be true at the same time. Understanding it won’t mean that he’ll appreciate it.

“I will… I will try and talk to them,” you promise. And you will. Even if you could keep this a secret, you won’t if it hurts him. And you can tell that it hurts.

-

You wish you could kiss him goodbye. But you can tell that he’s distanced himself, put up a wall to protect his heart. 

“On Wednesday we usually meet up to drink beer and play games,” you explain, wringing your hands, “They should all be there right now. Well, except Kyoutani. I will... I will go and talk to them right now.”

He nods. Your voice breaks a little when you ask. “Are we still- Are we still on for Friday?”

“Of course,” his deep voice soothes your anxious heart a little. You take a step forward and hug him, stiff and awkward, before you move back.

“I really like you, Wakatoshi,” you say before you can take it back, swallow it down, hide it from the world. 

“I like you too.”

- - -

Makki is already buzzed when he opens the door.

It’s probably not the best time to talk about things like this, but you want to get this over with. If you talk about it now, the dust will settle by Friday. Or so you hope.

There’s an iPad on the coffee table, Iwaizumi and Oikawa grinning back at you. You accept a beer, almost drop it with how jumpy you are, your legs unable to stay still.

“So, how was your date?” Makki asks, cutting off one of Oikawa’s rants.

“Good,” you say and take another sip of beer, “We met Kyoutani at the park.”

“Oh?” Mattsun looks up from his phone. “So you met the girl he fancies?”

“Maybe,” you shrug, unwilling to give up his secret. He’s got his one fears to face. 

“What you mean, dear Mattsun,” Makki teases, “Is that Kyoutani met her boyfriend.”

Oikawa gasps dramatically. “No way?! You got a boyfriend? Who is it!”

“Ushijima,” you say, ripping the bandaid off in one swoop.

Makki cackles, spurned on by Oikawa’s apparent confusion.

“Good one,” Mattsun jokes as Iwaizumi snorts. The younger players don’t think the joke’s that funny. It’s Kunimi who bothers you the most, his perceptive eyes locked onto your face.

“Guys,” he cuts through the laughter, “She’s serious.”

And it would have turned out better, you suppose, without the beer. Because Oikawa gets more petulant when drunk and Makki’s jokes are a bit less funny and a lot more mean when he’s buzzed. The younger guys don’t really know how to mediate. That has always been your job, or Iwaizumi’s. But the distance does not work in your favor.

You leave half an hour after you’ve arrived, angry tears streaming down your face. 

It’s always the people closest to you that hurt you the most. They know what parts of you are the most sensible, and which parts of you are still bruised, still in the process of healing.

You press your phone to your ear.

Wakatoshi picks up right away.

“I talked to them,” you press out. Your voice is doing funny things again and you swallow back another wave of tears, less motivated by anger and more by hurt.

“Do you want to come over?” He asks and you don’t hesitate to agree.

It hurts to fight, to possibly lose good friends over something as stupid as old rivalries, but Wakatoshi is good at soothing over it, with warm hands and the gentle rumble of his voice as he holds you close.

-

You don’t meet up with the boys on Friday. No one has bothered to invite you.

You watch Wakatoshi practice instead, laughing about Kageyama who pesters you about how to better his form - you’re a licensed sports therapist after all - and teasing Hoshiumi who fake gags every time you throw Wakatoshi a kiss. 

You move your date to Wakatoshi’s apartment, cook dinner together - it turns out pretty decent - and talk through the night. When you wake up in his arms on Saturday morning you know that you want this to go on, that you want this to be a relationship that lives instead of dies, one that strengthens over time.

- - -

You’re a little surprised to find Mattsun and Makki at your work. 

It’s Wednesday and they should be working too, well, at least Mattsun should.

“Iwaizumi called us every day,” Mattsun admits eventually, “Apparently we’ve been dicks.”

“Yeah,” you tell him bluntly, noticing that Makki’s still stubbornly staring out of the window. “You were.”

“Oikawa’s still pissed,” Mattsun admits next, taking a seat in front of your desk. “But he’ll get around. Kunimi pointed out that it was a blind date. You didn’t actively pick him.”

“Even if-” You start but Mattsun just shakes his head. “It’s Oikawa. Logic does not pull.”

“I’m only apologizing-” Makki interrupts, huffs, and continues, “I’ll only apologize if you do too.” He glares at you. Mattsun’s looking too, though his eyes are softer.

Finally, you nod and get up, offering your hand for Makki to shake.

“I’m sorry I made fun of you. It’s not your fault that you got fired.”

He huffs again. You know that sound. He sounds like that when he’s trying not to cry. And you suppose you can’t fault him for that. Friends just know where it hurts the most.

But he shakes your hand, his grip a bit firmer than it needs to be.

“I’m sorry that I called you an ugly bitch that has no game.”

Suddenly you can’t help but laugh. It flows freely, from deep within, has you bending over the desk as you cackle. They laugh along, softly first before it breaks out of them too.

“All good?” Makki asks when you eventually calm down.

“All good,” you agree, looking over at Mattsun. He shrugs. “Don’t look at me, I’ve always been good.”

“Sure,” you joke, “But just so you know, I’ll bring Wakatoshi along tonight.”

Makki rolls his eyes. “Whatever. I’ll smoke him at Mario Kart.”

As it turns out, however, Wakatoshi smokes him.

Who knew he had it in him?

.

-.- Warsaw -.-

The front door closes with a soft click, alerting you.

“Shh!” You hiss at the boys before turning toward the door of the living room. 

“Hey honey, welcome home!”

“Hi,” Wakatoshi steps inside, spots the beer and your laptop screen and waves. “Beers and Games?”

“Yeah, but it’s not that important.” You get up to kiss him, ignoring Makki who’s trying to make a point of his importance. “You wanna go out to eat?”

“Can we stay in?” He asks, “There’s this new movie that Satori recommended.”

“Yeah, sure,” you nod. “Go shower. I’ll make some food.”

He smiles and leans in for another kiss, waving at the camera before he leaves for the bathroom.

“So he doesn’t know, huh?” Mattsun asks as you pick up your laptop and carry it to the kitchen.

“No, I want to tell him tonight. Thanks for not spoiling it guys.”

“Anytime,” Kindaichi pipes in. You bet he’s got no clue what you’re talking about. “What are you making?”

“Golabki,” you answer, “Cabbage roles. I’ve been obsessed with these lately.” 

You catch up while you cook, eager to hear more about Kindaichi’s budding relationship or Makki’s latest work adventure. Even Kyoutani contributes a lot today, proudly talking about how Yachi has won a prize for one of her designs.

At some point Wakatoshi appears, leaning into you as you work. He likes to be in the way when you facetime the team, thinks it’s funny that Makki has named him “the Log” or that he’s always blocking the drawer you need to get to the most.

“Move,” you tell him, pulling at his thighs. Behind him’s the cutlery you need to set the table.

“There’s a price for that,” he tells you quietly. You roll your eyes and move to kiss him. He shuffles slightly to the side, now blocking the cabinet that hides the plates.

-

It’s only after dinner, your laptop put away, the dishes done, that you find yourself back on the Couch, cuddled into him.

“Wakatoshi,” you address him, your hands shoved under his shirt. His eyes have closed but he’s still awake, you can tell by his breathing.

“Hmm?”

“Remember how we were talking about what we wanted to do on your next break?”

“Yes?” He opens one eye to squint at you. “Do you still want to go back to Japan?”

“I wouldn’t mind it,” you confess, “But we talked it through. It’s not feasible and I’ve got a better idea.”

That has him opening both his eyes. He can sense that something’s coming and you nestle further into him. 

You like to surprise him, for sure. You love how quiet he gets when you do something special for him, almost unsure if he deserves it. If this is really just for him. But that doesn’t mean you don’t get flustered by your feelings for him once in a while.

“I got us tickets to Paris,” you tell him quietly. “Tendō already knows.”

When he pulls you close he doesn’t have to say anything. You already know.

He misses his best friend just as much as you miss yours.

[bbymunsonx]

birds of a feather

eddie munson x fem reader

summary: eddie munson was your best friend and you were hopelessly in love with him. it was starting to get embarrassing how much you were in love with him. the only problem was that you don't want your boyfriend, steve harrington, to find out.

warnings: MINORS DNI 18+, smut, angst, cheating, attempted SA, oral (f receiving), nipple play, piv (protected), masturbation, sex toys, wet dreams, aftercare, death, no happy ending

word count: 8.1k

notes: sorry!

Ever since you had moved to Hawkins, your life had been a nonstop nightmare. Life before Hawkins wasn’t all that great either, but at least California has sunlight, beaches, great weather… Hawkins was just, Hawkins. Your little sister, Max, and your stepbrother, Billy, were just as excited about this new beginning as you were. 

You remember the first day of school like it was yesterday. Stumbling to your locker, you tried the combination five times and your locker wouldn’t open. 

“Goddamn it,” you mutter to yourself under your breath. As you tried to open your locker one last time, all your books suddenly slipped out of your hands onto the dirty high school floor causing you to sigh. 

“Are you alright?” A voice came up from behind you. Your head whipped around revealing a boy standing right behind you. He had shoulder length hair that was slightly frizzy, tattoos covering his arms and deep chocolate brown eyes. He started to crouch down to pick up the books that slipped from your hands. 

“Yeah, yeah I’m okay. I just can’t get this fucking thing open.” You groaned, causing the boy to display a slight smile on his face. 

“I think it might be because this is my locker. I’m 748. You’re 747.” The boy pointed to the locker directly next to the one that you were trying. You could feel heat rising up your neck onto your cheeks as you were completely embarrassed.  

“Oh my god, I feel completely stupid. Thank you…” You waited for him to give you his name.

“Eddie,” He smiled and reached out his hand. You gave Eddie your name and shook his hand. 

“It’s nice to meet you Eddie.” You smiled at him before shoving your books in your locker and walking away. Little did you know, since your last names were Mayfield and Munson, Eddie sat next to you in homeroom and the two of you shared a couple classes together. Throughout your first year at Hawkins High, and Eddie’s second year, the two of you became best friends.

***

As you got closer with Eddie, you started to feel something towards him. You started to feel a bit nervous when you saw him. Your palms would get sweaty when he would call you the pet names he usually calls you. Your stomach would flip flop whenever he took a hit of the joint that you two shared. You would feel your heart shatter into a million pieces whenever Eddie would tell you about his latest one night stand. Even though you became extremely close with Eddie during your freshman year, you also became close to the King of Hawkins High, Steve Harrington. You started hanging out with Nancy Wheeler and by association, became friends with Steve. Steve was the most popular guy in school but he wasn’t Eddie. 

It wasn’t unusual for you to spend your free time at Eddie’s. Billy was usually having sex with a different girl in his room and there’s only so many sex sounds a person can take before they explode. 

You and Eddie both lay on his bed in your pajamas with a scary movie on in the background. Again, nothing unusual. As you take a hit of your joint and pass it to Eddie, you say, “What do you think about Steve Harrington?”

That caused Eddie to start choking on the smoke he had just inhaled. “Jesus, Munson, breathe,” you laughed at him. 

“Why do you wanna know how I feel about Harrington?” Eddie scoffed. 

“Nancy told me he wants to ask me out,” You looked over at Eddie to try to catch his reaction. You looked down at his hands to see him clenched his fists. “You’re my best friend and I just wanted to see what you thought.”

Eddie took your hand in his. “I want you to be happy, sweetheart. If Harrington makes you happy, then I think you need to have a talk with him.” He smiled at me which made me smile back. 

“I have an idea.” You sat up, trying to get Eddie to feel excited about your idea. “Steve’s having a party tomorrow night. Nancy’ll be there, Barb, Robin, Chrissy… a whole bunch of us. Why don’t you come?” 

“Princess, I know for a fact that Steve isn’t gonna want me at his party.” Eddie sounded doubtful in your idea. 

“He will if you bring this.” I shook Eddie’s bag filled with weed in his face. Eddie rolled his eyes at you. 

“You’re lucky I love you.” He responded and placed a wet kiss right on the top of your forehead. 

Your stomach sank again. 

You and Eddie arrive at Steve’s house a little after the party started and the two of you stuck out like a sore thumb. As you looked around, it seemed like half of the high school was there. 

“Hey!” Steve noticed you across the room and walked right over to you. “Thanks for coming! You look… wow!”

“Thanks, Steve,” you blushed. “You know Eddie, right?” You tried to introduce them to one another. 

“Yeah, yeah. Hey, Munson.” Steve barely looked at Eddie as he said that.

“Harrington.” Eddie responded coldly. Suddenly, the room was filled with so much tension. 

“Alright, I’m gonna go grab a drink.” You said as you were walking away, trying to break the tension. 

“Come out back when you’re ready. We’re all hanging by the pool.” Steve yelled at you while walking over to the back door. 

As you walk over to the kitchen, you run into your stepbrother, Billy, walking in the opposite direction. 

“What are you doing here?” He questions rudely. 

“Um, I was invited. What are you doing here? You still obsessed with showing Steve how much of a big boy you are?” You smirked at Billy and continued walking. 

“Watch it!” He yelled at you, to which you replied by throwing up your middle finger behind your back. 

Steve’s fridge was filled with beer so you took two, one for you and another for Eddie, and headed out to the backyard. 

There were a bunch of chairs set up outside with a fire pit in the middle of them. Sitting there was Steve, Nancy, Robin, Barb, Chrissy, Tommy, Carol, and lastly, Eddie. “Hi, guys!” You greeted the group before handing Eddie his beer. You took the empty seat between Eddie and Steve and gazed into the fire. 

One beer quickly became two and two beers quickly became three. The night was going pretty smoothly and it seemed as though even Eddie was having a great time. He spent a majority of the time making small talk with Chrissy Cunningham, who was seated next to him. After the conversation began to die down a bit, Robin exclaimed, “Let’s play a game!”

Steve initially groaned, “Games, Robin? How old are we? Ten?”

“Games could be fun,” you smirked over at Steve. 

“What kind of games do you want to play?” Steve caved in, seeing your eyes light up. 

“Let’s play truth or dare,” Robin smirked. You sighed internally. Truth or dare never ends well. 

“Alright, let’s do it.” Steve agreed. 

After a few rounds, it was Eddie’s turn. So far, Robin and Nancy kissed, Chrissy had to choose somebody to flash (luckily for her she chose Robin), and Steve told us all the last time he had sex… which was right before he had met me. 

“Truth or dare, Munson?” Steve looked over at Eddie. 

“Dare,” he responded coldly.

“I dare you to kiss Chrissy.” Steve laughed. “The freak kissing the prettiest girl at Hawkins High.” Your stomach dropped when you heard Steve call Chrissy the prettiest girl in school. 

You looked over at Eddie with wide eyes, not anticipating him to actually do it. 

“It’s okay, Eddie. It’s a game,” Chrissy consented as Eddie shifted over to get closer to her. He reached his hand out to grip her neck, ever so slightly. They both closed their eyes and leaned into one another. All you could hear was Chrissy gasp into the kiss, so you could only guess that Eddie had slipped his tongue into her mouth. A classic Munson move. 

“Alright, Munson. I told you to kiss her, not eat her face.” Steve laughed. You could feel Steve look over at you as your eyes were glued to the fire sitting in front of you. You were trying not to let the tears that were glossing your eyes fall down your cheeks. Eddie was your best friend. That’s all. 

“Mayfield, it's your turn, babe.” Steve started. Your stomach flipped as that was the first time Steve had called you babe. “Truth or dare?”

You weren’t sure if it was the alcohol or your emotions from watching Eddie and Chrissy make out, but suddenly, you had other plans. You whispered over to Steve, “Follow me. I have another idea.” You got up off the chair and took his hand in yours, slowly dragging him up. 

“Sorry, folks! Gotta go!” Steve laughed to the group as you dragged him into the house. You had looked back at the group, who were already back to playing the game, but not Eddie. He was staring daggers into you and Steve. You loved every second of it. 

You had dragged Steve through his filled house, up his stairs and into his bedroom. After the two of you were in the bedroom, you slammed the door shut and immediately connected his lips to yours. 

“What do you have up your sleeves, Mayfield?” Steve whispered in between kisses. 

“Nancy told me that you liked me. Is that true?” You suddenly gained the confidence to ask him. 

“I do.” Steve said while batting his eyelashes at you. “I thought you liked Munson?”

You pulled away from Steve to look at him completely, “Why…why would you say that?” 

“It’s just that everyone thought you guys were a couple. You are always together so I just figured you were screwing or something.” 

“I’m all yours, Steve.” You had connected your lips back to his, deepening the kiss while nudging him towards the bed.  You laid back on the bed as he laid on top of you, ravishing you. As he kissed his way down your neck, you involuntarily groaned. 

“Steve,” you whimpered. Just as Steve lifted your shirt over your head, his bedroom door immediately swung open, ricocheting off the wall. Eddie was at the door eating Chrissy’s face with his hands cupping her breasts through her shirt. 

“Fuck, Eddie! Get out!” You threw your shirt at him to get him to leave. 

“Oh sorry! Thought this was the spare!” Eddie exclaimed as he and Chrissy left. Chrissy gently closed the door behind them. 

“Where were we?” Steve cocked an eyebrow at you while kissing down your neck. Steve really took his time with you, but it was very obvious that Eddie was not taking his time with Chrissy. Her moans were already filling the entirety of Steve’s upstairs. 

“Fuck, Eddie!” Just the way you had yelled at Eddie earlier. “You’re so good! Yeah…yeah right there!”

You hadn’t even noticed that Steve was pumping in and out of you, his cock splitting you open. All you could focus on was your best friend having sex in the next room, and your heart was split in two because he wasn’t having sex with you. 

***

It’s been two months since you and Steve have been official, and you’ve never been happier. After a couple of dates, Eddie and Chrissy figured out that they just weren’t compatible. Not the way you and Steve were. Though you and Steve were together, you still spent a majority of your time with Eddie. You wanted to be anywhere that wasn’t home. Steve understood the dynamic of your friendship and he was completely fine with it. Or so you thought. 

After a long night of smoking and watching horror movies, the two of you fell asleep in Eddie’s bed. Something woke you up out of your sleep. The sound of your name being spoken, or rather whimpered. As you started to regain consciousness, you felt Eddie behind you, deep asleep, rutting his clothed crotch into your clothed ass, while whimpering your name. You debated letting him finish, but the thought of Steve popped into your head, causing you to wake Eddie. 

“Eds, get up!” you nudged him, causing him to jump awake. 

“What! What is it?” He seemed genuinely confused. You pointed down to his very obvious boner. “Was I…”

“Just a little,” you cringed. 

“Fuck, I’m so sorry, Mayfield.” Eddie covered his face with his hands, obviously very embarrassed. 

“Eds, it’s fine. We can’t control our bodies and what they do.” Who were you to judge Eddie with the obvious wetness pooling at your center. “I think I’m just gonna go home.” You started to get up before Eddie quickly grabbed your hand. 

“Please don’t go. I can just go to the bathroom real quick and take care of this and then we can start another movie. Just please. Stay.” Eddie pleaded with you. You sighed and shook your head. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Eds.” You rubbed his hand with your thumb before letting go. The feeling of his hand on yours felt more like cheating than waking up to him grinding into your ass. 

The last thing you could hear before walking out of Eddie’s room was him softly cursing at himself under his breath. A part of you felt awful for leaving him, but another part of you would have taken things to another level if you’d stayed, and you couldn’t hurt Steve like that. 

As you walked into your room, you plopped on your bed and let out a huge groan. Thankfully, it was the middle of the night meaning everyone was asleep. The silence of the house only caused the thoughts in your head to get louder and louder. The feeling of Eddie’s cock rutting against your ass. This has never happened before, but you would have chalked it up to Eddie having a wet dream about a cheerleader or something. But he was whimpering your name. Desperate whimpers as his grinding became more desperate. More needy. 

The more you thought about it, the more you were aware of every single part of your body. Your heartbeat was too loud. You could feel the beads of sweat dripping between your breasts. You could feel your clit begin to pulsate as it was desperate to be touched. You bit your lip as you quietly reached over to your nightstand, pulling out your trusty vibrator. Because of how worked up you were, you knew it wasn’t going to take much to make you orgasm. 

You teased yourself at first. Trailing your finger around your neck and down to your tits. Luckily, you weren’t wearing a bra, and your arousal caused your nipples to become rock hard. Your fingers slowly started to circle around your clothed nipple. You softly exhale at the contact. You were planning on teasing yourself for a lot longer but you couldn’t take it anymore. 

In one swift movement, your shorts and panties were laying at the foot of your bed with your vibrator making contact with your clit. Fuck, you groaned at the contact. Your brain kept picturing Eddie and what he was doing earlier in the evening. You loved Steve. Steve treated you so well and made you so happy. But there was nothing you wanted more in the world than for Eddie to have kept going. For him to wake up to realize what he was doing and keep going. For him to climb on top of you and fuck you.

When you turned the vibrator up to the higher setting, you were already close. Eddie was in your head egging you on. Telling you how girl of a girl you are and how needy you are for him. 

As your orgasm washed over you, your hand fell to your mouth to stop you from screaming his name. The name of the guy who wasn’t even your boyfriend. 

The next day, you didn’t see Eddie at all in the morning. Since you’re always locker neighbors, he usually waits at your locker for you, but this morning he was a no show. You were at your locker gathering your books when all of a sudden, someone came up behind you and wrapped his hands around you, lifting you up. Automatically thinking it’s Eddie, you screamed, “Eds! What are you doing?!”

The arms put you down, causing you to turn around. Steve was standing behind you with a confused look painted on his face. “Eddie?”

“Shit, Steve! I’m sorry!” You pecked him on the lips. “I’m just used to meeting Eddie here. Creature of habit, I guess.”

Steve let out a fake sounding chuckle as he smiled down at you.  “Hey, where were you last night? I called your house and got an earful of Hargrove.” Steve scoffed. 

“Oh, Eddie and I were having one of our movie nights.” You smiled innocently. Steve doesn’t need to know specifics. 

Steve reached out to your hands while whispering your name, “I think we need to talk.” The bell rang for classes to start but classes were the last thing you were interested in at the moment. 

“What’s up, babe?” You questioned. 

“Look at me in the eyes and tell me you're not in love with him.” Steve said sternly. Your throat began to feel dry as you found it difficult to look at Steve. 

“I…Steve…” You began.

“I know how close you are with Munson. I know you two are best friends. But you are my girlfriend. Not his. I really hate to do this to you,  but I need you to choose. Me or him.” Steve said sternly. He was actually serious. 

Behind Steve, you noticed the entire reason why Eddie didn’t meet you at your locker this morning. All you could see was him leaning against a locker while talking to a girl in a cheerleader uniform. You could hear the way she chuckled all the way over here. 

“I’m yours, Steve. Only yours.” You grabbed his face and planted a sloppy kiss on his lips before heading to class. 

It’s been a couple days since you stopped talking to Eddie cold turkey. A part of you felt extremely guilty, watching him slowly pull away, but the other part of you didn’t feel bad at all. Eddie was a player, plain and simple. You and Steve had something special and you wouldn't jeopardize your relationship over something that wasn’t real. 

Since you stopped talking to Eddie, you spent more and more time at Steve’s house. It was really great being able to spend time with him like this. On this particular night, you told Steve you wouldn't be able to spend the night because you had a drama club meeting. 

When you arrived at the Drama Room, you noticed Eddie in the room, setting up the table for his Hellfire Club meeting. Unfortunately, you were way too loud opening the door so you couldn’t slowly back away. You and Eddie had just stared at each other for a few moments in silence before you let out, “I’m sorry. I thought I had drama practice tonight.”

“Oh, sorry. They’re in the cafeteria tonight.” Eddie replied sorrowfully. 

“Thanks.” You quickly turned around to run out of the room. Eddie tried to call after you, but you had already made it halfway down the hallway. 

Drama practice ran quite late tonight, as the parking lot was completely empty by the time you left the school. You sort of expected Eddie’s van to still be here but Hellfire Club must’ve let out early tonight.

Not feeling like walking all the way home, you decided to stop at Steve’s house since it was closer. After five minutes of walking, you arrived at the Harrington house. You reached down and took the spare key from underneath the welcome mat and let yourself in. 

“Steve!” You yelled. Silence. 

Music blasted from up the stairs so you decided to follow the noise. The music was coming from Steve’s room. That wasn’t the only noise coming from Steve’s room. 

As you opened the door, you were greeted with Nancy on top of Steve, completely naked. She was rocking back and forth on his cock making him whimper, in a way you’ve never heard. 

“Steve?” You choked. Steve and Nancy both stopped dead in their tracks and looked over at you. 

“Shit!” They yelled at the same time. “I can explain!” Steve yelled after you. You burst into tears as you ran out of Steve’s room, down the stairs, and out of his house, into the pouring rain. 

Your house was a ten minute walk and Eddie’s was a twenty minute walk, yet you chose to run to Eddie’s house. You just wanted to be in the arms of your best friend. 

Extremely out of breath from running and sobbing, you finally made it to Eddie’s trailer. Your hands started banging on the door waiting for him to answer. You could barely see from the rain dripping down your forehead and the tears falling from your eyes.  

After a minute, Eddie arrived at the door with wide eyes. 

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” He questioned. 

“I went to Steve’s and he was fucking Nancy.” You whispered, but Eddie heard you loud and clear. 

Eddie whispered your name under his breath before you grabbed his face in your hands and planted a sloppy kiss on his lips. The two of you melted into the kiss for a few seconds. The butterflies in your stomach were relentless as you always wanted to know what it would feel like to have his lips on yours. Though, you wished it would be under better circumstances. You let go as soon as you heard someone’s voice coming from inside the trailer. 

“Eds! Who is it?” A girl’s voice called. The girl who he was flirting with this morning.. 

Eddie whispered your name before your hands covered your mouth. 

“I don’t know what I’m doing here. I’m sorry, I have to go.” You ran away back into the rain, slowly making your way home. 

***

It’s been six months since you and Steve inevitably broke up. Believe it or not, you two started to become good friends. You had hated him for a little bit in the beginning, but even though he was physically cheating on you, you had mentally been cheating on him for a lot longer. 

After the night you and Eddie kissed, you two hadn’t kissed again. You haven't even talked about it. The only thing he asked was if you were okay after everything with Steve. He continued to date other girls and you continued to date other guys. 

That was until one night you had gone out with Jason Carver. The two of you had a great time seeing a movie, but when you had gotten back into the car, he had tried to force himself on you. Tried to get you to do things you did not want to do. He grabbed your shirt so hard it tore. You’re favorite shirt. Funny enough, it was the shirt you were wearing the first time you met Eddie. You were finally able to push yourself off of him and run. Every time you need to run somewhere, you find yourself running right to Eddie Musnon. 

This time, you didn’t care if there was another woman in there, you were going to burst right in. As soon as you burst in the door, you ran all the way down to Eddie’s room, where he was laying in his bed in his pajamas, strumming at his guitar with a cigarette hanging out of his mouth. He instantly put his guitar on the ground and his cigarette on his ashtray before jumping out of bed. 

He grabbed the fabric of your torn shirt and traced it in his fingers. His hands grabbed onto your shoulders before looking you right into the eyes. “Who did this to you?” His voice was almost so deep it sounded as though he was growling. 

“Jason Carver.” You whispered. 

“I’m gonna kill him.” Eddie grabbed the keys to his van before gently pushing you aside. You grabbed onto his arm, not wanting him to go anywhere. 

“No. Don’t go. I need you.” You pleaded with him, almost sounding completely desperate. 

“Okay, princess. I’ll stay.” He walked back towards you. Eddie reached into his drawer to grab you a pair of sweatpants, a t- shirt, and a towel. “How about you shower tonight off, yeah?”

“Thanks, Eds.” You whispered. You’ve showered at his house mutual times but this time felt more personal. As soon as you got into the shower, you immediately lost it and started sobbing into your hands. 

After about twenty minutes in the shower, you put on Eddie’s clothes and gazed at yourself in the mirror. There was just something that looked so right about you wearing his baggy clothes. You slowly brought up the collar of the t-shirt and inhaled it. It smelled just like him, and that brought you a tiny amount of comfort. You exited the bathroom and went back into Eddie’s room to see him still laying on his bed watching a movie on the television. He looked over and saw you standing there, patting on the side of the bed next to him. Your side. 

“I knew I shouldn’t have gone out with him.” You groaned as you plopped down on the bed.

“Did he…” Eddie began before you quickly cut him off. 

“No. No. I got away before anything else could happen.” You sounded relieved, as did Eddie. “Eddie…” You whispered, turning your head to the side to look at him. 

“Hm?” He whispered back, looking back at you. 

“Remember when Steve and I broke up and I came here and kissed you?”

“I do.” Eddie nodded. 

“I should’ve done that sooner.” You whispered, not even sure if Eddie could hear you. “I’ve gone out with all these bullshit guys, just to try to get over you.”

“Over me?” Eddie questioned, to which you nodded. “You like me?”

“Of course I do, Eddie,” You scoffed, feeling stupid. “I’ve literally been in love with you since the first time I saw you. I can’t pretend anymore. My heart beats for you and only you. Pretending that I’m not in love with you… it’s killing me.” 

Eddie’s hand slowly slid over to your side of the bed, on top of your hand that was lying by your side. You turn your hand over to invite his fingers to interlock with yours, which he does. He gazes at you with loving eyes as his fingers begin to play with yours. 

“Please say something.” You whispered. 

“You’re my best friend, Mayfield. You are… everything. I was a pussy for not saying anything but I just loved you too much, I was scared. I was scared to lose you. I love you in every sense of the word. I don’t think I can love you any more than I already do. My beautiful girl” Eddie smiled down at you while caressing your cheek. 

“You love me?” A tear escaped your eye. 

“Don’t be so surprised.” Eddie chucked at you before leaning down and planting a gentle kiss on your lips. You didn’t hesitate to immediately kiss him back. You haven’t felt his kiss in so long but it immediately felt like home. 

As things became more heated, you whimpered as he slipped his tongue in your mouth. A classic Munson move. 

“You alright, baby?” Eddie questioned because of your reaction. 

“I’m more than okay,” You smiled into the kiss. Eddie readjusted himself as he climbed on top of you, to get better leverage while kissing you. You whimpered to yourself as Eddie’s lips left yours. His lips were all over your face. All over your cheeks, your forehead, even your nose. He couldn’t get enough of your face. 

When he was pleased with the work he did on your face, his lips began to travel south. He licked and sucked on your neck, obviously leaving hickeys. You were Eddie’s and everyone was going to know it. 

“Fuck, Eds,” you groaned as he continued to mark his territory. You began to squirm under his touch, everything on your body becoming way too sensitive. He had barely touched you and you were already coming undone underneath him. 

“What do you need, sweetheart?” Eddie taunted above you, knowing exactly what you needed. He lifted his shirt off your body and lucky enough, you weren’t wearing a bra. 

“Need you to touch me.” You gasped as his warm mouth made contact with your nipple. 

“Christ, Mayfield. You were hiding these from me this whole time?” Eddie continued to taunt. He was repeating the licking and sucking he had performed on your neck but on both of your nipples. While his mouth was attached to one nipple, he was rolling the other one with his thumb and forefinger. He wanted to make sure they were getting the same amount of attention. As he licked, sucked, and bit, you were trying your hardest to grind into him to relieve your throbbing clit. Everytime your hips bucked up, Eddie would back away slightly leaving him out of touch. 

“Tsk tsk,” Eddie smirked. “You gotta be patient, baby. I’ll take care of you.” His hand returned to your face and cupped your cheeks as he gave you a filthy kiss filled with lust. 

Eddie continued to kiss down your body until he reached the band of his sweatpants. He placed a wet kiss right above the band of his sweatpants and used his fingers to play with the band. 

“Can I?” Eddie asked to which you nodded. “I need you to talk, princess.” 

“Yes, please take them off.” You groaned in frustration. Eddie took the band of his sweatpants in his teeth and slowly dragged them down exposing the lacey pair of underwear you had worn for your date tonight. You didn’t even wear the underwear for Jason. You just wanted to wear them for yourself. 

“Fuck,” you heard Eddie groan under his breath over your clothed cunt. Eddie lazily dragged his fingers down your clothed slit, smirking at the sight of you squirming. He lowered his face near your core when your breath hitched. 

“I’ve never-” you began, watching Eddie slowly raise his head.

“You’re telling me that Steve never ate you out?” Eddie asked, almost angrily. You shook your head no. “That’s just not gonna do, princess. Do you trust me?” 

“With my life, Eds.” You whispered. As soon as those words left your mouth, Eddie leaned down and planted a light kiss right over your clothed clit. If you weren’t so turned on, you may not have been able to feel it.

You bucked your hips as Eddie reached for the band of your underwear and slowly shimmed them down your body and he placed them right into the pocket of his pajama pants. “Jesus Christ,” he groaned to himself at the sight of your bare pussy. “You’re so wet. All this for me?” Eddie taunted. 

“I’m always this wet for you, Munson.” You moaned. That’s all it took for Eddie to lay back down on the bed and start kissing up your thighs. The feeling of his rings wrapped around your upper thighs were enough to make you shiver. After he had kissed his way up your thighs, he flattened his tongue against your hole and licked from your hole to your throbbing clit. The initial contact between his tongue and your clit was enough to make you moan, the loudest you’ve ever moaned. 

“God you taste so good, baby.” Eddie moaned into your cunt. “I could eat you for breakfast, lunch and dinner.” He continued to swirl his tongue around your clit as he slowly slid a finger inside of you, pumping it in and out. Your back immediately lifted off the bed as you began to grind on Eddie’s face. 

“I’ve waited so long to hear you moan for me, baby.” Eddie groaned. The vibrations of him talking added to the pressure he was already applying to your clit. 

“Just like that, fuck, you feel so good inside me, Eds.” You were able to gasp through your moans. If you listened closely enough, you were able to hear Eddie moaning too, desperately. The sounds of Eddie moaning mixed with the feeling of his tongue and his fingers were enough to push you over the edge. Eddie could feel you clench around his fingers, a sign that you were close. As his one hand was busy working you towards an orgasm, his other hand slowly reached up and interlaced his fingers with yours. 

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum. I’m gonna-” you cried out before the cord in your lower belly snapped, causing you to orgasm all over Eddie’s face. 

“Atta girl.” Eddie coached you as you continued to ride out your high on your face. When he lifted his face, his lips and nose were shiny, covered in you. “That was the fucking hottest thing I’ve ever done.” Eddie quickly moved back up the bed and showered you in kisses. The taste of cigarettes plus the faint taste of you on his tongue was enough to make you cum again. 

You reached down and briefly touched Eddie’s throbbing cock through his sweatpants. “Your turn, my love.” 

“I’m not one to turn down a blowjob, but if I don’t get to fuck you right now, I’m actually going to lose my mind.” Eddie laughed as he continued kissing you. You laid back in the bed as you watched him take off his sweatpants and his boxers. Your eyes almost fell out of your head because of how big he was. 

“Fuck, Eddie.” You had to stop yourself from drooling at the sight of him. His throbbing cock was dripping with beads of precum, anxiously waiting to be inside of you. Eddie reached to his nightstand and brought out a condom before rolling it on his cock. 

He leaned over you and placed a sloppy kiss on your lips. He took his cock in his hands and started lazily trailing it up your slit and resting the tip right on your clit, causing you to whimper. 

“Eddie if you don’t fuck me right now I’m gonna hit you,” you groaned frustrated. You felt so empty and all you wanted was to feel him slam into you. 

“Such a dirty girl. You just can’t wait for my cock, huh?” Eddie teased. 

“I just want you so bad. I’ve always wanted you.” You grabbed his face and roughly kissed him, and he took that as the opportunity to slowly push himself into you. Your open mouth kiss quickly turned into a moan as you felt yourself trying to adjust to his length. 

“You alright, princess?” Eddie whispered. 

“Yes. God, you’re so big. Biggest cock in Hawkins.” You kissed him more as he continued to push into you. Eddie continued to push into you as you cried out. 

“Alright, sweetheart. You’ve got all of me.” Eddie groaned as he started to slowly move in and out. As he started to move out, you wrapped your legs around his waist, not wanting him to go anywhere. 

“Christ, Eddie. Can’t believe I’ve been missing out on this,” you groaned as you started to leave scratches up and down his back. Every time your nails would scrape his skin, he would filthily moan into your mouth. You whimpered every time his guitar necklace would dangle and tickle your neck. The two of you just kept making the dirtiest noises, and neither of you could get enough. 

“This is so fucking embarassing, but I’m not gonna last much longer.” Eddie moaned into your mouth as his pace began to quicken. 

“It’s okay, Eds. Me too.” You whimpered as Eddie continuously hit your g-spot. As he got closer, he reached down and started rubbing circles around your clit, causing you to tightly clench around his length.

“I’m gonna cum, baby.” Eddie groaned and at the same exact time, you came around his cock. As he was still inside you, his forehead gently laid on top of yours. His bangs stuck to the sweat that was dripping down your forehead. 

“That was…” You started. 

“Incredible.” He finished. He slowly pulled himself out of you, causing you to shiver because of how sensitive you were. Eddie rolled next to you to catch his breath for a moment. “I’ll be right back.” He kissed you on the forehead before rolling out of bed and grabbing you a change of clothes and a wet washcloth. 

“Here… let me,” Eddie softly said while spreading your legs open and cleaning you off with the wash cloth. No man has ever done this for you before and it makes your heart feel so full. “I left your change of clothes in the bathroom. Go get changed and I’ll get us a snack.” He placed a kiss on your lips before leaving the room to go to the kitchen. 

All you could do was lay in his bed and smile like a fucking idiot. 

***

It’s been three years since you and Eddie professed your love for one another. You expected these years to go differently, but every year was another challenge. Hawkins had become cursed. Monsters roamed the town that you called home. Your friend, Barb, was killed. You watched as Billy was impaled by a gigantic monster in the middle of the mall. And now your sister was being targeted by a powerful wizard, whom we cannot see. Max was only being targeted after Vecna had killed Chrissy. 

Chrissy was truly struggling, so you offered for her to come over Eddie’s house to smoke and help get her mind off of everything. Since you and Eddie became a couple, you were able to mend your relationships with Chrissy, Steve and even Nancy. All that mattered was that you and Eddie had each other. But now that Chrissy was killed in Eddie’s trailer, the entire town of Hawkins had labeled Eddie as a “Satanic Murderer”.

You had spent the entire week in hiding with Eddie. You’d rather the town label you as a Satanic Murderer than leave Eddie alone. It had been an exhausting week, but you had been hopeful that the group would find a solution. 

The two of you spent the week reminiscing on your years together, even when you two were just friends. The nights you would spend over at his trailer, sprawled out on Eddie’s bed looking at him with nothing but pure love in your eyes as he strummed on his guitar. The time the two of you volunteered at the Snowball dance for the kids. The Christmases you would spend at the Munson trailer with Eddie and Wayne where it would end with Eddie mercilessly beating you in a snowball fight. 

The only solution anyone could come up with was that you all had to go to the Upside Down yourselves to kill Vecna. There was no other way. 

You kissed Max on the forehead as she made her way into the Creel House. “I love you, Max. I’ll see you soon, alright?” You had to stop the tears from escaping your eyes. “Lucas… take care of her.” You hugged Lucas as they left the RV that Eddie stole. 

The plan was that Steve, Robin, and Nancy were to go to the Creel House in the Upside Down to kill Vecna. You stuck with Eddie and Dustin, as you were all tasked with creating a diversion for the demobats. 

Eddie and Dustin set up an amp on the top of Eddie’s trailer so he could play his guitar to lure the bats right to us. As he played, you sat next to Dustin with tears in your eyes. A part of you was completely fucking terrified. In the distance, you saw the bats start to fly towards the trailer. 

“Let’s go!” You yelled at Dustin and Eddie as you jumped off the top of the trailer. Dustin and Eddie followed right after you. As the three of you were safely in the trailer, the group of you jumped up and down, celebrating how badass that was. 

You hugged Dustin and then latched your arms around Eddie’s neck, tightly. Never wanting to let him go. 

“Alright, let’s get out of here.” Dustin said, grabbing on to the rope before stopping. There was a weird noise coming from the back of the trailer. 

“What’s that?” You questioned, before bats started letting themselves into the trailer one by one. The three of you must’ve missed something while you were protecting the trailer. 

“Shit! Dustin, go!” You screamed at Dustin as he climbed up the rope and flipped upside down on Eddie’s bed. 

“Go, baby! I’m right behind you!” Eddie handed you the rope and rubbed the bottom of your back as he nudged you up the rope. Your muscles burned as you pulled yourself up but then you flipped over on Eddie’s bed, right next to Dustin. You pushed yourself up to see Eddie just standing there, his gaze moving from the gate to the bats. 

“Eddie?” You whimpered, unsure what he was doing. 

“EDDIE! COME ON!” Dustin yelled, his hands on his head in distress. 

Eddie looked us through the gate before making direct eye contact with me, “I’m sorry.” He lifted his makeshift weapon and used it to cut the rope down, destroying the tether from our world to the Upside Down. 

“Eddie, no.” Your voice was barely above a whisper. You didn’t know what he was doing. 

“EDDIE! WHAT ARE YOU DOING? NO!” Dustin continued to yell. 

“I’m buying more time.” Eddie said before moving the other mattress out of the way and running out of the trailer. Your blood had run cold, your eyes unable to focus on what was happening. Dustin was trying to find a ladder or something he could use to jump through the gate. 

“Dustin, you need to hoist me up there. And then you need to go.” You grabbed Dustin by the shoulders, trying to get him to pay attention. 

“No,” Dustin whimpered. 

“DUSTIN! You need to get me up there!” You raised your voice, immediately feeling guilty. You had never raised your voice at Dustin. He was like your little brother.

“Okay, okay. On three.” Dustin sadly shook his head and began to count up to three. 

One…Two…Three…

You jumped on Dustin’s hands as they pushed you up to the gate. Your hands had grabbed onto the gate, enough for you to push yourself through. After mustering up the strength, you were able to push yourself enough that you fell right through, right onto the hard floor of Eddie’s trailer.

“FUCK,” you screamed in pain. You had clearly landed on your ankle wrong, but that didn’t matter to you. You needed to find Eddie. Dustin was shouting your name from the other side but you paid no attention to him as you ran out of the trailer and into the Upside Down. 

You burst through the doors and looked all around, about half a mile away, a herd of demobats surrounded Eddie. He was laying on the ground, trying to fight them off but obviously failing. 

“HEY! OVER HERE! COME AND GET ME!” You screamed loud enough to get the bats attention. You started banging on every gate you could to get them to get off of Eddie. As the bats started to fly towards you, all you could see was that Eddie wasn’t moving. 

Just as the bats were about to get to you, they suddenly stopped in their path just to turn around and fly in the completely opposite direction. Most likely towards the Creel House. Towards Steve, Nancy, and Robin, but you didn’t care right now. 

It took you a minute to limp over to Eddie, who still wasn’t moving.

“Eddie?” You whimpered, as you knelt down to him. His chest was moving up and down very slightly. 

“There’s my beautiful girl.” He coughed out. Spurts of blood dribbled on his chin as he coughed. 

“We have to get you out of here, Eds.” You tried to stay calm and lift him up. He was completely limp and you weren’t strong enough to lift him on your own. “Can you move?” All he did was shake his head. 

“I…I didn’t run away, right? I just wanted to help.” He asked with tears in his eyes causing you to almost lose it. 

“No, sweetheart. You didn't run.” You caressed his cheeks in your hands and wiped his tears with your thumb. 

“I love you so much. I’m gonna miss you,” Eddie whimpered before turning his head slightly to kiss your hand. This is when you just let your tears come out. There’s no point in trying to fight them anymore. 

“I will love you for the rest of my life, Eddie Munson.” You closed your eyes and knelt down to plant a soft kiss on Eddie’s lips. When you lifted your head, you noticed he wasn’t moving. He wasn’t blinking. He wasn’t Eddie, not anymore. 

“Eddie?” You whispered, as you started to shake him slightly. He still wasn’t moving. Sobs started to escape your mouth as you didn’t have the strength to hold them in anymore. You held his head in your hands, slightly closing his eyes to make it look like he was sleeping. Eddie was always so pretty when he slept. 

Steve, Nancy, and Robin started running towards you screaming that you had to go. They stopped dead in their tracks as they realized what had happened. 

Nancy and Robin stood there with their hands covering their mouths. Steve came running over to you and crouched next to you and whispered your name, “We have to go.”

“I can’t leave him here. I can’t leave him here!” You sobbed onto Eddie’s shirt. Steve didn’t have the choice but to pick you up and throw you over his shoulder as you screamed and cried. 

“NO! STEVE! PUT ME DOWN! NO! EDDIE!” You screamed and sobbed and choked. As Steve walked back to the trailer, the vision of Eddie laying in the middle of the trailer park became more and more faint. You had just left him there. The love of your life. The bane of your existence.

***

The worst part about mourning Eddie is that you couldn’t mourn him. Though most of Hawkins was in ruins, everyone was celebrating the fact that Eddie Munson was presumed dead. The town was relieved to know that such a scary man had perished in the “earthquake” that shook the town. No one knew that Eddie had died for them. He died to give Hawkins a chance at a better future. 

You sat outside on a park bench in silence with Wayne Munson. Dustin had told him what happened a few days prior, but this was the first time you saw Wayne since Eddie died. As soon as he laid eyes on you, the two of you completely fell apart. You melted in his arms as you started to sob. 

After your sobs started to subside, the two of you just sat in each other's presence. You started to reminisce on times you and Eddie shared together. Times you’ll never get back.

“Don’t you think it’s weird that we’ve only been friends for like, six months? I feel like we’ve been friends longer than that.” Eddie laughed after taking a hit of his joint. The two of you were extremely high and at this point, you would just say stupid shit to one another.

“It’s because we’re birds of a feather, Munson.” You laughed while looking over at him, eyes full of love, but he didn’t notice. Not yet. 

“What the fuck is that?” He said, dumbfounded.

“It means we’re kind of like the same person. Platonic soulmates, if you will.” You smiled up at him. 

“That’s really profound. I like that. But birds are annoying,” Eddie smiled, getting higher by the second. “Wait, that’s even better. If you see a bird outside, that’ll just be…like… an extension of me. They can annoy you when I’m not around.” 

You laughed, “What do you mean ‘when you’re not around’? You’re up my ass 24/7.” 

“You never know, sweetheart. I gotta keep you on your toes.” Eddie took another hit of his joint. 

You snapped back into reality with a sad smile on your face. You’ll miss those small conversations with Eddie more than anything. Just as you focused back on the present, a small bird, a baby finch, landed right next to you on the bench. All it did was look up at you for a moment before it flew away. Eddie. 

[peachsukii]

— the knife in you brings out the life in me

college life has been a breeze and you've got everything you've ever wanted — a hot boyfriend, decent grades and a circle of friends you wouldn't trade for the world. that perfect daydream is shattered when a student ends up murdered in their apartment off campus, and somehow, it all leads back to you.

✮ summary. it's a typical friday night as kendo preps for your annual movie marathon, impatiently waiting for you to come home when she gets a mysterious phone call from an unknown number. ✮ content. 18+ MDNI. part of the wyfscm collab: scream!au + bakugo x fem!reader. college setting (characters are 21/22). descriptions of stalking/kidnapping. major character death(s). sexual scenes (soft predator/prey & knife play, heavy makeouts, oral & vanilla-ish sex). violence (blood/gore). lots of meta humor. angst w/ a "happy" ending. ✮ word count. 3.2k — Act One ⨯ Act Two ⨯ Act Three 『 wyfsm collab ⨯ k.bakugo masterlist ⨯ crossposted to ao3 』

✮ act one: silver screams & movie scenes

Apartment 104 | 8:30PM

A crisp night on campus, the windows in the apartment open to let in the chill as Kendo stood in front of the oven, impatiently tapping her nails against the frozen pizza box on the counter. She glances at her phone for the tenth time, sighing when the little 'Read' notification finally appears under her last message to you.

Kendo (8:35PM): Y/N, are you coming home soon? I got the movies lined up and pizza's in the oven. Read 8:44PM

"Bitch," she playfully curses to herself. She leans against the laminate, fingers furiously tapping against the screen.

Kendo (8:46PM): That dick better be worth ditching movie night. >:( I'll save you a slice of pizza, but only one. You (8:47PM): Thanks Kennie! Be home soon. <3

Kendo slides her phone into her back pocket before unwrapping the pizza, shoving it onto the oven rack and slamming the door shut. She wasn't actually pissed, she just didn't want to watch a set of scary movies by herself. They freaked her out, but you always want to watch the classics around Halloween, something you two drunkenly pinky promised over way back in your freshmen year. That tradition has held strong for almost two years now — some things never change. She strolls into the living room, skimming one of the backs of the DVDs on the table when her phone vibrates repeatedly, catching her attention after the second round of buzzing. No one ever calls her, not even her boyfriend or family, let alone some random person. The screen reads 'Caller: Unknown.' She chuckles to herself before clicking the "Ignore" button.

"Real original," she laughs aloud. "I'm not an idiot if she thinks she can play tricks on me."

The phone begins ringing again in her hand, 'Caller: Unknown' popping up on the Caller ID another time. Now she's getting annoyed, answering with a huff. "I'm not stupid, Y/N. I know this is you and Katsuki prank calling me."

There's a faint rustling sound in the background before the voice comes through the line. "Hello, Itsuka."

Her heart skips a beat, caught off guard by the use of her name. "Uhh…Who's this?"

"I'm in one of your study groups for chemistry. I was wondering if you had Y/N's number."

Kendo pauses — who the hell would call on a Friday night about a dumb study group? It's prime party hours, especially in your off-campus neighborhood.

"How'd you get my number?"

There's a hollow laugh followed by some sort of static that she can't quite place. Her stomach sinks, a pang of fear aching in her guts. Why did it suddenly feel like someone was watching her?

"Sorry! I thought you'd recognize my voice. I got it from Professor Yamada," he stammers, the tonality in his voice shifting into something artificially sweet. "Is Y/N home?"

"No…" Kendo stalls, walking to the balcony doors to look outside before closing the curtain. If he got her number from the professor, why couldn't he have gotten yours, too? "I can give you her e-mail address and you can ask for whatever you need."

"Sure, that would be great," he says. "Are you busy right now?"

Technically, no, but there's no harm in lying to this guy. What he doesn't actually know won't hurt him.

"Yeah, I'm in the middle of dinner and a movie. Looking for a hot date or something?" she jokes, trying to lighten the panic lingering in her chest.

He tuts. "Pizza doesn't seem like a healthy dinner, now does it?"

Kendo barely registers his words before she hangs up, tossing her phone onto the carpet as if it was on fire. The screen illuminates with 'Caller: Unknown' splayed across the screen, taunting her repeatedly as he calls over and over again. It's not until it rings a fourth time that she finally answers, carefully bringing the phone to her ear without saying a word.

"That was rude," the voice scolds, tongue clicking against his teeth. "You shouldn't leave your windows open when you're home alone. Haven't you watched horror movies? That's an open invitation for someone to sneak inside and do god knows what to you."

"And you shouldn't be staring through people's windows, creep," she retaliates. Crawling along the floor, Kendo scurries over to the open kitchen window, shutting it hastily.

"Who says I'm staring through the window?" A distant click of a lock fills her ears, crudely reminding her that the front door was left open. Why the fuck didn't she lock the door?!

"Are you in my house?!" She questions, wanting to sound threatening but cannot hide in her voice that she's scared shitless.

No response.

"Answer me, you freak!"

The line disconnects. Kendo drops her phone onto the kitchen counter and skips to the entryway of the apartment to see the door wide open, but no one in sight. There's not many places to hide in this tiny place — maybe it was a stupid prank after all? You and Katsuki are fucking with her, that's gotta be it. Who else would know she's home alone?

Kendo hurries down the hall in an attempt to shut the door when a shadow moves out of the corner of her eye, a mysterious figure lurching out to grab her. Her body slams against the wall, desperate to recollect the breath that was swiftly stolen from her lungs. A white Halloween mask and black cloak…is this guy serious? A Ghostface costume?

"Very funny, Katsuki," she coughs out, a hand coming to grip the person's forearm. "Come on, jokes over."

"I didn't want to do this, Itsuka." The figure pulls out a knife with the opposite hand, moving to trace the pointed edge along her jawline. Their voice sounds deeper, almost computerized, an extreme difference from the phone calls moments earlier. "Too bad you hate horror movies, you'd have a better chance at winning the game we're gonna play."

Fuck, this is real.

Kendo swallows harshly before questioning further. "Wh-what game?"

“Now now, don't rush me, sweetheart," he cautions, the tip poking roughly into the side of her throat, a tiny pinprick beginning to weep blood onto the blade. "You’ll be in the news for weeks, I’ll make sure of that." He drops the knife and takes a step back, signaling to the open door. "All you gotta do is run.”

Without a second thought, Kendo bolts for the door and out into the night, running for her life through the apartment complex courtyard in her slippers, not knowing where the hell to go. She runs past a few open windows, loud music pouring out of multiple house parties of her fellow colleagues. Her eyes are darting back and forth between them, ping ponging her options in a rush.

She stops at one, attempting to shout over the speakers at the group of people closest to her. "There's someone with a knife out here, call the damn cops!"

No one bats an eye as she's banging her fists on the glass, desperate to grab someone's attention. She tries to open it further and it won't budge — of fucking course it won't. Is this what her night has come to, running from some psycho killer? If it turns out to be you and Katsuki playing a stupid ass prank, she's going to kill you herself for scaring the ever-loving shit out of her.

No matter the case, she can't waste another second, every single one precious to keep herself alive if this is legit. Kendo spins on her heel, proceeding to trip over her own feet as she rounds one of the complex buildings, hugging the wall to stay out of sight. It's too bad it happens to be the moment she didn't look where she was going, colliding with the masked assailant in the dark.

One of the most important rules of horror movies; never blindly hide in the dark from a killer, especially alone.

A large hand grasps her shoulder, pinning Kendo in place as the other comes swinging forward, weapon in hand. She can't even shout before the blade pierces through her cashmere sweater and directly into her chest, blood spurting around the knife and staining the fabric in gushing waves of crimson. The killer twists the weapon, torturing her as Kendo screams in agony, burgundy droplets spewing from her mouth. They pull out the knife with a sickening schlep, only to prick the rest of her body like a pin cushion to the melody of her wails for help.

One, two, three… she loses count of the number of stab wounds, too focused on the pain building in intensity with each slice of her flesh. Was this some form of sick karmic justice? What the fuck did she do to deserve this?!

"Please," she chokes out in a high pitched squeal. "S-stop!"

Kendo attempts to grasp at the killer's mask, but the material slips from between her bloody fingers, leaving messy bloodstains in their wake. In the distance, a group of college kids are excitedly strolling down the sidewalk, chatting loudly about the hottest party on the block. She tries to scream, to produce any sort of noise for them to hear — she can't. Her hands come up to clutch around her throat, a pitiful attempt to stop the blood rising like bile before it spills over her lips like a waterfall and all over her bunny slippers.

"Oh, Itsuka," the voice laments while letting her body go limp and fall into the grass. "Someone needed to be the message, and it happened to be you." Kendo's vision clouds, the killer kneeling over her twitching body, finger jamming into her chest wound. She lets out a breathless scream, the pain too much to bear any longer. "What a perfect opening for our movie. See you in hell, angel."

Is this how it feels to die? Her last glimpse of reality is that goddamn mask, the bloody finger prints splayed on the white plastic like some pretentious abstract art taunting her as the world fades to black.

Her final thought?

'I fucking hate horror movies.'

Bakugo's Apartment | 9:25PM

"Katsuki! Noooo!" you giggle, running down the hallway of his apartment and swinging into his bedroom, slamming the door shut. It doesn't have time to latch before Bakugo's shoulder rams against it. He taps his knuckles on the wood as a warning, even though he could burst in on his own.

"C'mon, baby," he sings, sickly sweet. "Let me in." He doesn't hesitate to deliver a hearty kick to the door, the doorknob slipping out of your grasp and causing you to stumble backwards.

"Gotcha," Bakugo teases, squeezing your hips and shoving you up against the wall. Your heart races, a flush creeping up your neck and flaring to the tips of your ears. The pout spread across your glossed lips almost has him crumbling, a brief moment of weakness to let you run free. But not tonight, any night but tonight. The thought quickly leaves when he remembers the power he holds over you, one of his hands finding your throat in one swift motion, pinning you in place under his firm grasp. "A pretty thing like you shouldn't be left alone, especially with those frat fuckfaces wanderin' around campus."

Heart-eyes blossomed under your half-lidded gaze, laced with a deadly mixture of fear and infatuation. You looked delicious in this state, a fawn batting her lashes at the wolf to guide her home. Bakugo growls at the thought of how you'll look when he's got you pressed beneath him, begging to be fucked to hell and back just the way he likes. He leans down next to your ear, hot breath fanning over your skin and nudging his nose against your cheek. His grip releases from your hip, fingers trailing to the edge of your skirt. "This short ass skirt could get ya into trouble with the wrong guy."

The clash of terror and arousal actively going to war inside you, adrenaline spiking as Bakugo's palm skims over your inner thigh, fingers dancing along the hem of your underwear. He snaps the fabric against your skin, a moan flooding out of you and echoing through the room. Thankfully, his roommates weren't home, but honestly? It might be hot to let them listen in on you two in the future.

"M'not dangerous, baby. Nothin' to be scared of," He pauses to nip at your earlobe, relishing in the way it makes you squirm beneath him. "None'a those creepy jackasses could fuck you like I can, make ya beg an' scream until your throat is raw."

Your hands shoot up to clutch onto his shirt. "Please, make me scream until I pass out, 'Suki!"

Bakugo's ready to devour you, rough hands finding your waist to lift you from the wall and shove you toward his bed. "With pleasure, little mouse."

He pounces on you hungrily, grabbing your face to twist toward his and ravish your lips. It's messy, all teeth and tongue while he fishes something out of his back pocket. It isn't until you hear a click that you open your eyes, a black and red switchblade on full display. Suddenly, you're on the tallest rollercoaster imaginable, your stomach churning with dread as you approach the first big drop and look out into the horizon, realizing how high up you truly are.

"Like what ya see?" Bakugo jokes while trailing his lips down your neck, canines grazing your delicate skin. "Borrowed it from one of the guys." He drags the dull side of the blade along your bare thigh, the sensation sending a chill up your spine. It disappears under your skirt and snags the fabric of your panties laying against your hip, the tip of the knife slipping through the material with ease. You have to fight against the urge to run, panic coursing through your veins as the steel kisses your skin.

You can trust him, you have to, he loves you and would never hurt you. Not in a million years.

Bakugo roughly yanks on the knife, accidentally pricking your hip and causing you to yelp in pain with an accompanied "Fuck!"

"Shit!" He drops it and lets the weapon clatter to the hardwood floor. "Lemme take a look."

You wince when his fingers brush against your skin to investigate the damage, curiously grinning when he sees your underwear is still in one piece, albeit hanging by a thread, blood seeping into the band strained over the cut. He rockets off the bed to retreat to the bathroom down the hall, returning in a flash with a wet washcloth and a few band aids.

"Stay still," he grumbles under his breath. "I got'cha."

Without thinking, he rips the loose threads of your panties, letting them give way and fall away from your skin to access your wound. The warm cloth stings at first when he presses it to your hip, but is soothed shortly after with a few gentle puffs of air as Bakugo blows on the area. "Sorry sweetheart, didn't mean'ta cut you open."

"S'okay Kats, it was an accident."

You throw your head back against his pillow, chest still heaving from the excitement of it all. Of course this is what you get for asking your boyfriend to pretend stalk you and playing around with a damn weapon, and no safe word. Neither of you have every wielded a knife before, your imaginations running too wild to stop and think of any consequences. Blame exam season, the two of you locked away to study with little time to actually fuck, especially with roommates. While you're ruminating in your own head, Bakugo's eyes fall to your discarded panties, a prominent wet spot soaked through the cotton and barely covering your center. He bends down and starts leaving wet kisses along your inner thigh, all while holding the cloth to your hip to soak up any remaining blood.

"K-ahh-tsuki!" You whine, squirming under his touch. Your eyes begin to fall closed until the sound of your phone vibrating against his nightstand incessantly catches your attention.

"Ignore it," Bakugo snarls before diving between your legs, hot tongue slipping between your folds with ease and collecting all of your pent up juices in one swipe. And you obey him, turning your head away from the screen to focus on the pleasure building in your belly. It's not long until your phone is ringing for a second, third, and forth time in a row, distracting you from your boyfriend's attempt to apologize for his fuck up. Your eyes squint at the name on the caller ID - 'Ochako Uraraka.'

That's odd, Uraraka's normally at Midoriya's on Friday nights. What could she want?

"Babe, it's gotta be important. Ochako's called me four times in a row." You don't wait for Bakugo's response before answering, out of breath. "H-hey, what's—"

"Ohmigawd you're alive!" Uraraka screeches through the speaker, her voice unusually distressed. "Where are you?!"

You thread a hand through Bakugo's hair to still his movements, tapping the top of his head to get him to stop as you sit up and pull away from his mouth. He grumbles in annoyance, but it quickly fizzles out when he sees the look of concern on your face.

"Uhh…I'm at Katsuki's place. Why?"

"Oh thank GOD. Okay, okay…umm, I don't know how to tell you this," she starts, pausing to take a deep breath. "Something happened at your apartment."

Bakugo's brow furrows when he feels his own phone begin to ring in his jeans, tugging it from his pocket to see Kirishima's name on the screen and three previous missed calls. What the hell is going on?

"Itsuka was…," Uraraka lets out an audible sob. "She was killed!"

Your first instinct is to laugh, to chalk it up to her acting and pulling a prank on you. "Quit bullshitting, Ochako! You're scaring me."

"I'm not!" She argues, another stifled cry as she begins to mutter through broken words. "Her body was found…h-hanging -hic- from a tree by her throat with…and…and -hic- stabbed a-almost 20 times."

Everything falls silent, the words ringing in your head. Without warning, you hang up on Uraraka, unable to find anything to say in return to the news lingering in the air.

Kendo was stabbed? Your Kennie?

She's…dead?

Bakugo's sudden grip on your shoulder startles you, his eyes dilated with shock as he speaks, but you can't hear a thing. You try to read his lips until his voice eventually reaches your ears. "…was found dead."

You shake your head in disbelief. "Sorry, what?"

"Monoma. Found him dead in the quad, there's a whole crime scene on campus." He turns away from you to continue talking with Kirishima on the other line, nodding hesitantly to whatever Kirishima was info dumping to him.

"Itsuka…too," you mumble, afraid to speak the truth out loud and face the reality of the situation. Bakugo's eyes shift to yours, a rare glimpse of dread on full display as you continue. "Someone broke into our apartment."

So much for getting laid tonight.

a huge thanks to @lumiambrose @ambiguouslady42 & @hayatoseyepatch for beta'ing this for me! :)) act two & three should be done before halloween. <3 happy spooky season!

✮ network. @pixelcafe-network

✮ tags. @slayfics @maddietries @starieqq

@liluvtojineteyam @jays-adventure3 @simp-plague

@napbatata @Yoyolovesdaiki @kirishimaeijiromyman

@strwbrrykthv @awkwardchick87 @stunies @suokura

[solxamber]

Helloooo!! I want to request Leona's bodyguard reader x Malleus draconia

The reader has been Leona's bodyguard since they was a child.

They are calm and serious people. They look strong and intimidating on the outside, but in reality they are gentle, humble, kind, and have always been by Leona's side, both in good and bad times.

And I thought it would be funny if Leona found out that his bodyguard was dating Malleus Draconia.

Malleus Draconia x Leona’s Bodyguard! Reader

thank you for waiting, i hope you like it <3

You’ve been Leona’s bodyguard since you were both kids—a quiet, steady shadow to his sharp glare and princely airs. Through tantrums and triumphs, through wild hunts and royal galas, you’re the one constant in his life.

Calm, grounded, intimidating on the outside but with a deep well of patience and kindness on the inside, you’ve been there for him through thick and thin. Even if he rarely says it, you’re pretty sure Leona trusts you more than anyone.

But recently, your attention has been caught by someone else. Malleus Draconia. You’re not sure how it even started—a mutual nod at some formal event, a brief, stolen conversation under the stars—but somehow, you’re drawn to him in ways you hadn’t expected.

His reputation as a brooding, powerful mage is well known, but when he’s with you, he seems... softer. Gentler.

You’re surprised to find yourself laughing with him over small things, finding moments of peace in his quiet company, and even catching yourself looking forward to seeing him.

One night, after a particularly stressful royal banquet, Malleus pulls you aside into a secluded part of the garden. The air is thick with the scent of night-blooming flowers, and the soft glow of the moon gives everything a silver hue.

Malleus looks at you with a tenderness that leaves you breathless, a look so deep and genuine that it shatters your carefully maintained composure.

“Is it... strange that I feel so at peace with you?” he asks, his voice barely a murmur.

You shake your head, feeling your heart hammering as he takes a step closer, his fingers brushing yours. “I don’t think so. I feel it too.”

With a gentle hand, Malleus lifts your chin and leans down, his lips brushing yours in a kiss that’s soft, almost reverent. For a moment, the world falls away, and you’re just two people, finding something precious in the most unexpected of places.

From that moment on, a quiet romance blossoms between you. It’s filled with stolen glances, secret late-night walks, and a warmth you never thought you’d find in the life of a royal bodyguard.

Of course, it doesn’t take long for someone to notice. After returning from one of those quiet rendezvous with Malleus, you find Leona sprawled on a couch, eyes narrowed with a smirk that tells you he knows far too much.

“So,” he drawls, “when were you planning to tell me about your little... lizard liaison?”

You raise an eyebrow. “Lizard liaison?”

Leona’s grin widens. “Yeah. You’re sneaking around with that overgrown gecko, right?”

You sigh, rubbing the bridge of your nose. “First of all, he’s a dragon, not a lizard. And second, I don’t see how it’s any of your business.”

Leona just cackles, clearly entertained by the way you’re trying to stay calm. “Of course it’s my business. You’re my bodyguard, not his. You do realize the guy’s got enough power to raze a kingdom?”

You cross your arms, trying not to let him get to you. “Malleus is nothing like that. He’s... actually very kind.”

Leona stares at you, somewhere between exasperation and disbelief. “Yeah, kind. Right. Next thing you know, you’ll be telling me he’s got a soft spot for kittens and flowers.”

You sigh, more out of resignation than anything. “Leona, it’s not like that. He’s... he’s different from what people think.”

He raises an eyebrow, then shrugs, stretching lazily. “Fine, whatever. Go ahead and play damsel to the dragon. Just don’t get eaten.” He smirks again, like he’s thought of something funny. “But hey, if things get too weird, I’ll send a rescue party.”

Rolling your eyes, you mutter, “I’ll keep that in mind.” But as you walk away, you can’t help but feel oddly reassured by Leona’s grumbling.

Days turn into weeks, and your relationship with Malleus deepens. You’re careful to keep things quiet, but when he’s by your side, everything feels lighter, even as the duties of court life weigh on you.

Finally, after a long day of meetings, you and Malleus find a moment to yourselves in the garden. He reaches for your hand, a rare look of uncertainty crossing his face.

“You know,” he murmurs, “I never thought... I would find someone who sees me, not as a prince, but as simply... Malleus.”

You smile, threading your fingers through his. “I’ve always seen you as Malleus. And I always will.”

Just then, a familiar, exasperated voice cuts through the moment. “Seriously?” Leona drawls, standing there with his arms crossed and looking at you both with a mix of exasperation and vague amusement. “I leave you alone for five minutes, and you’re off canoodling with him?”

You half-expect Malleus to take offense, but he only smirks, and you—well, you’re too used to Leona’s antics to be embarrassed. You just shrug, as if to say, Yep, you caught me.

Leona gives an exaggerated sigh and rubs his temple. “Just don’t start spouting nonsense about gargoyles or some weird fae magic nonsense. Last thing I need is you turning into a bat or whatever.”

Before turning to leave, he adds, almost too casually, “And, hey, Lizard—make sure you don’t screw this up. I’d hate to have to break in another bodyguard.” He waves a dismissive hand, like he couldn’t care less, but there’s something in his tone, a reluctant warmth, that lets you know he does.

With a laugh, you thank him, and Leona just shakes his head, muttering something about “lizard-brained idiots.” But as you walk off with Malleus by your side, you know that no amount of Leona’s teasing can dampen the feeling you have—the feeling that somehow, against all odds, you’ve found someone who truly makes you feel whole.

Masterlist

[steveseddie]

my heart burns there too

steddie | rating: t | wc: 4,7k | cw: none | tags: misunderstandings, light angst, pining, eddie jumps into some crazy ass conclusions, but it’s all good in the end

for @steddie-spooktober day eight, prompt “bonfire”

read on ao3 here

The bonfire is Robin’s idea, but Steve is who extends the invitation to Eddie when he stops by Family Video one day.

“A bonfire? Won’t that get us arrested?” He asks, leaning on the counter and watching Steve operate the tape rewinder with a bored expression.

“Nah, man,” Steve says with a shrug. “Hopper is Chief again and you’d be surprised by how easy it is to get him off your back if you play the ‘I fought monsters with your kid’ card.”

Eddie lets out a snort. “Wish I had that all those times that he picked me up for dealing.”

Steve sniggers. The tape rewinder makes a loud clicking sound, signaling that it’s finished, and Steve removes the tape, putting it back in its case before rewinding a new one. “So are you in?”

“Sure,” Eddie says, never one to turn down the opportunity to spend time with Steve— and Robin, of course. “But I’m not holding hands with you and Buckley and singing Kumbaya.”

For some reason, that makes Steve blush. He ducks his head, fiddling with another tape. “Um, well, it’s not just us, Nance is coming too.”

Ah, Eddie thinks, now the blush makes more sense.

He tries not to let his disappointment show. He doesn’t want Steve to think he has anything against Nancy because the truth is that he doesn’t. Nancy is great— she’s nice, she’s smart and she’s fucking badass. He wasn’t lying during that Spring Break from Hell when he told Steve that he should win her back, Wheeler is a fucking catch. Even Eddie, gay as fuck as he is, can see it.

Only now things are different. Not the fact that Nancy is a catch, she still is. But now she’s single, and she and Steve have been inseparable since she ended things with Jonathan.

Oh, and now Eddie is stupidly and hopelessly in love with Steve so he’s just waiting for the day when they finally announce that they’re back together and break Eddie’s heart.

He doesn’t know what they’re waiting for and he kinda wishes they would just get the fuck on with it. At least then, Eddie could stomp down any hope of anything ever happening between him and Steve. Right now they’re in a weird limbo where some days Eddie will catch Steve’s gaze flickering down to his lips or he’ll feel his touches linger a little too long and he’ll think maybe, but then he’ll walk into Steve’s kitchen to find Nancy and Steve whispering with their heads pushed together only for them to break apart and go quiet the moment they see him or he’ll try to make plans with Steve only to watch him fumble for an excuse before admitting he’s hanging out with Nancy. And every time his heart shatters a little, so better to just rip the bandage off once and for all.

“Eds?”

Steve’s voice snaps Eddie out of his thoughts and he realizes that he fell uncharacteristically quiet at the mention of Nancy. So much for acting like he doesn’t have a problem with her. Goddammit.

He plasters a smile on his face. “Wheeler is coming, you say? Great! The more the merrier!” He says, hoping it sounds convincing enough. “Should I bring something? Lighter fluid? Marshmallows? Child sacrifices?”

A woman standing to the side of the counter, letting the kid in her arms pick something from the candy display gasps audibly, scowling at Eddie and switching the toddler from one arm to the other, further away from him.

Whoops.

Steve gives him a look— why are you like this? it says. Eddie shrugs.

“Just bring drinks, okay?” Steve whispers to him after giving the woman a placating smile.

“Sure thing, big boy,” he says, delighting in the baffled little pout Steve makes every time Eddie calls him that. “Anything else?”

“Well,” Steve purses his lips, thinking. “I’ve got everything we need for the bonfire, Rob is bringing the music and Nance is in charge of the snacks.”

“Tell her I want s’mores.”

“She’s way ahead of you, man,” Steve says with a chuckle. Eddie’s eye twitches— of course perfect Nancy already picked the perfect snacks.

Nancy isn’t your problem, Eddie reminds himself, the problem is that Steve’s straight and still hung up on his ex-girlfriend, and frankly, out of your league.

He sighs. “Sweet, I’ll see you and the ladies on Friday then.”

“Oh, you’re leaving already?” Steve asks, sounding almost disappointed. Other than the woman and her child, the store is empty and has been for the entire time Eddie has been here. He’s probably dreading being alone for the rest of a slow shift.

“Sorry, sweetheart,” Eddie says, “I promised Red I’d drive her to the skatepark and if I’m late to pick her up, she’ll beat me to death with her skateboard and I’m too pretty to die.”

Steve smiles at him, that little lopsided smile that Eddie likes to believe is reserved just for him. He’s never seen him smile like that at anyone else— fond, amused, endeared. “Yeah, you are,” he says and winks.

Eddie’s breath hitches, his traitorous heart thinks maybe but his brain stomps down that hope real quick.

“Careful, Stevie, or Wheeler might get jealous,” he jokes but it doesn’t come out as lighthearted as he wishes.

Steve’s eyebrows furrow but before he can say anything else, a group of kids comes barrelling through the door followed by an exhausted parent and they all walk up to the counter to ask Steve for recommendations for their movie night.

Eddie quietly slips away from the counter, giving Steve a lazy salute and getting a finger wiggle in return before the kids loudly demand his attention.

Six little nuggets, Eddie thinks, recalling a conversation between Steve and Nancy that he wasn’t supposed to hear.

His heart breaks a little more. He wonders how long it’ll take before it shatters completely.

***

To no one’s surprise, Eddie is the last one to arrive at the bonfire.

He parks his van between Steve’s car and Nancy’s station wagon at the spot Steve circled on a map when he gave Eddie directions. After swinging his guitar over his shoulder and grabbing the cooler filled with sodas and beer, he follows the smell of smoke and the sound of Buckley’s boombox through the woods.

He spots Robin first— feeding dry leaves and twigs into the fire and singing along to some pop song Eddie doesn’t recognize.

Eddie whistles appreciatively. “That’s one impressive fire, Birdie!”

Robin jumps, dropping the leaves and the twigs to the ground with a startled yelp. When she spots Eddie, her face breaks into a big grin and she clumsily steps over the logs arranged around the bonfire to hug him as best as she can with the cooler between them and Eddie’s guitar on his back.

“You made it! And you brought your guitar!” She says, bouncing on her feet with excitement.

“Yup, there’s no way I’m letting you make my ears bleed by listening to pop tunes all night,” he teases and gets a light punch on his arm for it.

“I didn’t know you could play metal with just an acoustic.”

“Metal isn’t all I know, Birdie, I have hidden depths,” he says, thinking about all the country and folk songs he knows thanks to Wayne.

Robin cackles. “Sure you do, Munson.”

He sticks his tongue out at her and then glances around, looking for Steve and Nancy but they’re nowhere to be seen.

“They’re picking up more wood,” Robin says when she notices him looking. “They should be back soon.”

Unless they got distracted making out, Eddie thinks, biting down on his tongue to not let the bitter comment slip past his lips.

As if on cue, they hear leaves rustling and then Nancy and Steve step out from the treeline. Steve is carrying the wood and Eddie gets to enjoy the way his biceps bulge from the weight before his eyes zero in on Nancy’s tiny hand wrapped around Steve’s arm. They’re in deep conversation, Steve listening intently and nodding as Nancy speaks to him with a soft voice, her hand never leaving his arm. They don’t even notice he’s there until Robin points it out.

“Hey! Look who’s here!” She says, oblivious to the downward turn of Eddie’s mouth.

Both Nancy and Steve’s heads snap in their direction and Eddie tries really hard to school his features into something casual and less green-eyed monster.

Nancy’s hand falls from Steve’s arm and the pile of wood he’s carrying falters a little before Steve hoists it up again, biceps flexing. Eddie tears his eyes from his arms to look at his face, expecting him to look like he just spent the last ten minutes making out with Nancy or like he just got caught red-handed but instead, he’s grinning widely at Eddie, eyes twinkling under the moonlight.

“Hey, Eds!” He says, attempting to wave with his elbow but giving up when a piece of wood falls to the ground, his cheeks pinking up in embarrassment. “Shit, Nance, can you—” he starts but Nancy is already picking it up and placing it back on the top of the pile. “Thanks.”

Eddie carelessly drops the cooler in front of him. “Hey, Stevie. Hey, Wheeler,” he says, sweeping down in an over dramatic bow. “I come bearing drinks.”

Robin whoops, throwing the lid open and grabbing a wine cooler while Nancy picks up a beer.

Steve forgoes the cooler, dropping the wood on the ground next to it and walking around it to pull Eddie into a hug.

It takes him a little by surprise but he recovers quickly, wrapping his arms around Steve’s waist. “Hey, sweetheart,” he whispers against Steve's neck, feeling him shudder, probably from the cold. He's only wearing a polo shirt, and despite the fire burning next to them, Eddie feels a slight chill in the air even though his jacket. “You smell like smoke.”

Steve snorts. “Oh, so I smell like you?”

It’s Eddie’s turn to shudder as his brain provides a handful of other reasons why Steve would smell like him. He tells his lizard brain to cool it and pulls back. “Yup, exactly! And you should know the smell is a bitch to get rid of.”

“It’s okay. I don’t mind,” Steve says, shrugging. With a wink, he adds, “I like it.”

Which to Eddie sounds flirty and a lot like ‘I like the way you smell’ and it takes his brain a moment to recover from that, but he does it just in time to catch the beer Steve tosses at him, even if he fumbles with it at first.

“You did a good job with the fire, Stevie,” he says, expertly popping the bottle open and gulping half of it down.

He catches Steve watching his throat as he drinks and the way he gives a little shake of his head before glancing at the bonfire. “You only say that because you didn’t see my first two failed attempts,” he chuckles. “It was actually Nancy who got it going.”

Eddie’s grip on the bottle tightens. “What would we do without her?” He says, voice a little clipped.

Steve’s smile falters but luckily doesn’t ask what Eddie’s problem is. “So are you gonna play for us?” He asks instead, gesturing at the guitar still hanging from his shoulder.

“Not just yet, Stevie. I was promised snacks, I’m hungry.”

“Me too!” Robin jumps in.

“Oh, the snacks are in the car,” Nancy says, digging through her bag for the keys. “I’ll go get them!”

“It’s okay, Nance. Eddie and I can go,” Steve volunteers, and with a secretive smile, Nancy tosses him the keys.

“Don’t forget you gotta—”

“Jiggle the key to open the trunk, I know,” Steve finishes with a smirk.

Eddie doesn’t realize he’s pouting until Steve points it out. Luckily he thinks it’s because he volunteered Eddie to get the snack too, and not because Steve is finishing Nancy’s sentences. “Stop pouting, Eds, it’s not that far.”

“You only say that because you didn’t have to carry a cooler and a guitar all the way here,” Eddie responds snarkily before setting his beer down on the ground and falling into step next to Steve.

“I’ll do the heavy lifting this time,” Steve smirks.

Eddie squeezes Steve’s arm, feeling the taut muscle underneath. “Seems like you already have, big boy,” he says, his voice coming out lower and flirty now that they left Nancy at the bonfire.

With an undignified yelp, Steve trips over something and Eddie, who hadn’t let go of his arm yet, tightens his grip to keep him on his feet.

“Careful, sweetheart,” Eddie says and Steve curses under his breath. Maybe his foot got caught on a root and he hurt himself— it’s hard to see the ground when all they have is the moonlight filtering through the trees. “You okay?”

“Yup, yeah, thanks, man,” Steve stammers out, giving Eddie a tight smile. “Come on, we don’t want to keep Robin waiting, you know how she gets when she’s hungry.”

Eddie snorts. “Oh yeah, I know. I still have her bite mark on my fucking arm,” he says, rolling up the sleeve of his jacket to point out the fading bruise from their last movie night when the pizza was taking too long to get there and Buckley decided to chump on his arm. “As if getting chumped on by demobats wasn’t enough!”

Steve sniggers. His eyes sparkle with something when he says, “Don’t think I can blame her for wanting a piece of you, though,” matching Eddie’s tone from before— low and flirty.

Eddie’s eyes widen, he stops looking at where he’s going to gawk at Steve and trips on a rock. With no one grabbing his arm, he goes down, landing on his hands and knees.

“Motherfucker,” he curses, his face burning with embarrassment.

“Christ, Eddie,” Steve mutters, hurrying to help him up.

“Well, that was embarrassing,” he laments with a chuckle, brushing off dirt from his pants and his hands.

“You okay?” Steve asks softly and then Eddie feels hands cupping his cheeks and tilting his head up until he meets Steve’s eyes. “You didn’t hit your head?”

Eddie shakes his head no, but the truth is he isn’t exactly sure— maybe he hit his head and now he’s hallucinating how close their faces are or how Steve’s eyes linger a little too long on his lips as they dart over his face, looking for any sign that Eddie hurt himself.

“Um,” Eddie clears his throat which feels a little dry. “We should get those snacks before the girls send a search party after us.”

Steve nods, and after letting his right thumb brush over Eddie’s cheekbone once, he drops his hands from his face.

Heat builds up on Eddie’s face, making his cheeks burn hotter than the bonfire.

They stay like that all the way to Nancy’s car.

***

Back at the bonfire, Robin snatches the marshmallows from Eddie’s arms. “What took you guys so long?” She asks, ripping the bag open and unceremoniously shoving one into her mouth.

“Gee, and they call me feral!” Eddie says and is rewarded by Robin hitting him with the bag of giant marshmallows. It doesn’t hurt, they’re marshmallows, but Eddie is nothing if not dramatic.

He grabs his arm where she hit him and falls to his knees, as if wounded. “This is what I get for braving the woods at night for your snacks, Lady Buckley? The nerve, the ungratefulness! I shall never recover!”

Robin lets out a giggly snort. She offers him a marshmallow on a stick for him to roast as an apology which he graciously accepts.

When he looks up, he finds Steve looking down at him with an amused expression. “Why do you insist on dropping to your knees in the middle of the woods? Your jeans are ripped enough as it is!”

Eddie’s mouth acts faster than his brain, leering at Steve as he says, “You don't like how I look on my knees, sweetheart?”

Steve’s eyes widen almost comically, his cheeks flaring an alarming shade of red. Eddie doesn’t get to enjoy the sight of a flustered Steve for long, his head snapping to his right when there’s a loud gasp that doesn’t come from either of them.

His eyes meet Nancy’s wide ones as they dart from Steve to Eddie to Eddie’s knees and back at Steve, her lips mouthing a silent, “Oh.”

Oh? Eddie thinks, ‘Oh’ what?

She can’t possibly mean— even if Steve said this isn’t the first time Eddie drops to his knees tonight, she can’t possibly think— oh Christ, does she?

Eddie is about to blurt out something along the lines of, ‘I didn’t blow your secret boyfriend in the woods, I just wish I did’ when Nancy’s eyes meet Steve’s and out of the corner of his eye, Eddie sees Steve firmly shake his head. That seems to be enough for Nancy, whose shocked expression melts away as she stands up and joins Robin where she’s roasting her marshmallow.

Eddie sits back on his heels with a sigh.

“You okay?” Steve asks, knocking his Nike against Eddie’s leg.

No, your girlfriend just thought you cheated on her with me! Eddie wants to say. “Yup, come on, let’s make some s’mores,” he says instead, pushing himself off the ground to go sit on one of the logs arranged around the bonfire.

He expects Steve to sit with Nancy, to appease her further but he sits next to Eddie, leaving no space between them despite there being plenty of room.

Eddie doesn’t mind, he loves having Steve close. Still, he can’t help but send surreptitious glances at Nancy every once in a while, averting his eyes when he finds her staring right back a few times.

He stops glancing at her when he gets distracted by Steve eating his s’mores— more specifically by him messily licking his lips and fingers clean. Not even his own marshmallow catching on fire can make Eddie tear his gaze away from Steve’s tongue lapping at the melted chocolate on his fingers, not until Robin screeches and points at the blackened little thing at the end of Eddie’s stick.

“Shit, shit, shit,” Eddie curses as he pulls it out of the fire to blow on it, extinguishing the flames. Next to him, Steve laughs, lips stretched in a smug smile that it’s a little too knowing.

Holding the stick between his legs, Eddie squeezes the marshmallow between the crackers and the chocolate before taking a bite. There’s a slight burnt taste to it but it’s still good, so Eddie eats it enthusiastically.

He can feel Steve’s eyes on him as he does and he considers putting on a show like he did— licking and sucking on his fingers in an obscene way. But before he can, Steve is reaching out and wiping chocolate from Eddie’s bottom lip with his thumb.

Eddie’s breath hitches, his eyes widening.

Red blooms on Steve’s cheeks and he drops his hand to his lap. “Uh, you had chocolate on your lip.”

“Thanks, Stevie,” Eddie mumbles. He jerks his thumb over his shoulder, “I’m gonna— I need a beer.”

He scrambles to his feet, stepping over Steve to get to the cooler. He nearly drops the beer when he looks up and finds Nancy staring at him, lips pursed and a tiny frown between her eyebrows.

Did she see Steve do that? Is she mad? Eddie wonders, averting his eyes and staring at the flames instead.

And more importantly— what the fuck is Steve playing at?

***

Eddie finally gets his answer about an hour later.

The four of them are sitting around the bonfire, drinking beer and talking about everything and nothing. Robin and Nancy are sharing a blanket they grabbed from Steve’s trunk because, despite the fire that’s still burning, the air has only turned colder as the night goes on. Eddie is sharing a log with Steve— or he was until Steve stood up to put on his Members Only jacket and sat down on the ground instead, leaning against Eddie’s leg.

Eddie didn’t question it at first, assuming that Steve wanted to be closer to the fire while still leeching some of Eddie’s body heat, which is fine by him. But then Steve wrapped his arm around Eddie’s calf and dropped his head on Eddie’s thigh, essentially cuddling Eddie’s leg.

That’s also fine with Eddie. At least until Steve’s hand starts rubbing up and down Eddie’s leg, his fingers occasionally coming in contact with bare skin where his jeans ride up and his sock rides down while, at the same time, his hair is tickling Eddie’s skin through the rips in his jeans.

He reaches for Steve’s hair, intending to move it away from his leg but the moment his fingers touch the strands, Steve shudders and melts under the touch. Eddie doesn’t have the heart to push Steve’s head away so he ends up playing with his hair instead, brushing his fingers through the strands.

It’s maddening. All of it— Steve’s head on his lap, his fingers in Steve’s hair and the small noises it drags from him, Steve’s fingers playing with his ankle bracelet and his wiry leg hairs.

Suddenly, Eddie feels hot all over, and it has nothing to do with the flames bathing them in red and yellow and orange. And when Steve tilts his head and kisses Eddie’s knee it feels as if he might burst into flames.

But when he looks up and finds Nancy staring at them with what can only be described as a scowl —a jealous scowl— it’s like being hit in the face with cold water. Cold water and a realization. The realization that Steve might be doing all this to make Nancy jealous.

Eddie doesn’t know why exactly. Maybe he’s ready to go public with their relationship and he’s trying to bait Nancy into accepting. Maybe he’s getting back at her for whatever happened with Jonathan when she was still dating Steve. Maybe it’s just a weird fucking kind of foreplay.

It doesn’t matter what it is, Eddie knows he doesn’t want to be a part of it.

So he pulls his hand away from Steve’s hair, and as carefully as he can, jerks his leg free.

Steve turns his head, looking up at Eddie with big confused eyes. “You okay, Eds?”

“I, um. I need to smoke,” he lies, scrambling to his feet.

Steve looks even more confused at that. “You can do it here, you know? We literally all smell like smoke already,” he says with a chuckle.

But Eddie shakes his head. “No, I- I gotta go, sorry, Steve,” he stammers out, tripping on the log as he hastily heads back to the van.

Without stopping, he digs a cigarette and hiz Zippo from his jacket, lighting it up as he walks. He hears Steve call out for him once, twice then nothing. Eddie pretends it doesn’t hurt that he didn’t come after him but he’s got Nancy, so why would he?

“Goddammit,” Eddie curses, running his hands through his hair with a frustrated groan, lit cigarette dangling from his lips.

It falls on the ground when Eddie lets out a strangled scream as Steve materializes out of fucking nowhere.

He hurriedly snuffs it out as he tries to get his heartbeat under control. “The bonfire wasn’t enough, Harrington?” He scoffs. “Are you trying to get me to start a real fire sneaking up on me like that?”

“I didn’t sneak up. I was calling for you.”

Oh. Eddie might’ve missed that from the blood rushing through his ears. “What do you want?”

“Why are you leaving? What happened?” When Eddie doesn’t answer, Steve’s face scrunches up. “Did I do something?”

Whatever Eddie’s face does at that is answer enough and Steve’s shoulders slump. “Shit, was that too much— I’m sorry, Eddie, I thought—”

“That you could use me to make your girlfriend jealous? Yeah, well, a heads up would’ve been nice,” Eddie says bitterly.

Steve jerks his head back as if he’s been slapped. “What?”

“I’m just saying that I probably would’ve said yes if you asked. At least then I wouldn’t have gotten my hopes up, y’know?”

“I- I don’t know, Eddie, what are you talking about?”

Rolling his eyes, Eddie asks, “You were trying to make Nancy jealous by being all over me, yeah?”

Steve splutters. “Uh, no?”

Eddie frowns. “So what? You guys are in an open relationship or something?”

“We’re not in any kind of relationship!” Steve says, his voice loud and hysterical at this point.

“Please!” Eddie scoffs. “You two have been inseparable since she and Jonathan broke up! It’s obvious you’re back together!”

“We’re not, Eddie, we’re friends! Yeah, we’re closer than we were before but that’s just because—” he hesitates.

“Because?” Eddie prompts with an impatient hand gesture.

Steve sighs, glances over his shoulder to where Nancy and Robin are and pinches the bridge of his nose. “Oh, what the hell!” He says to himself. “We got closer because we both realized we have a crush on our best friend.”

Eddie’s nose wrinkles. “Buckley?”

“No,” Steve says, dragging a hand down his face. “Well, Nancy does. She has a crush on Robin and I hope she’s telling her right now and that she won’t care that I just outed her to you—” His eyes meet Eddie’s and they’re open, vulnerable, hopeful. “But no, I don’t have a crush on Robin, Eddie, I have a crush on you.”

Eddie blinks. Then he blinks again. Then he pinches his arm hard but the world doesn’t fade away, he doesn’t wake up, he’s not dreaming. This is happening.

“Me?” He asks in a small voice. Steve nods. “So all of that— you weren’t making Nancy jealous you were—”

“Making a move on you, yeah,” Steve admits shyly, hanging a hand from his neck.

“Oh,” he says as he recontextualizes everything that has happened in the last couple of hours— hell, in the last couple of weeks. “Oh,” he repeats. “For what it’s worth it would’ve worked. If I wasn’t, you know, an idiot.”

Steve chuckles softly. “Well, good to know.”

Eddie bites his lip and goes on, a little nervous. “Yeah, and since I’m not an idiot anymore, if you wanted to like, make another move right now, I wouldn’t storm off or yell at you or—”

Eddie’s words are cut off by Steve making his move, which consists of him cupping Eddie’s cheeks, guiding his face to his and catching Eddie’s lips in a kiss.

Eddie stands frozen only for a split second before he loops his arms over Steve’s shoulders and kisses him back, feeling a fire bigger than any bonfire they could’ve built blaze wildly in his chest.

Steve dragging his teeth across his bottom lip only fuels the fire and causes Eddie to make a punched-out groaning sound that Steve chases with his tongue, deepening the kiss in a way that makes Eddie’s knees so weak they threaten to give out.

Before they do, causing Eddie to fall on them for a third time that night, Steve slows the kiss down to a full stop, ending it by nuzzling their noses together.

“You still are by the way,” Steve says.

“Huh?”

“An idiot,” he says, kissing the corner of Eddie’s mouth. “I can’t believe you thought I’d use you to make Nancy jealous!”

Eddie groans, dropping his head on Steve’s shoulder, embarrassed. “I’m never gonna live that down, am I?”

Steve wraps his arms around him, kissing his hair. “Nope.”

“Yeah, I deserve that,” he says, nuzzling Steve’s neck. He jerks his head back as he thinks of something— “Wait, if Nancy wasn’t jealous then what’s with all the scowls and the glares?”

“Oh, she was jealous. Of me. For making a move on you while all she did was share a blanket with Robin,” Steve says with a laugh.

And Eddie can’t help but giggle at how ridiculous this all is. “Should we make her jealous a little more?” He asks, grabbing Steve’s hand with a wicked grin.

Steve nods, intertwining their fingers together and letting Eddie drag him back towards the bonfire.

***

They find Robin and Nancy making out next to what’s left of the fire, wrapped up in the blanket and each other. Quietly, they make their way back to the cars, climbing into the back of Eddie’s van, kissing until the sun comes up.

[dcxdpdabbles]

Alfred's Boy Part 4

"Master Bruce, would it be alright if I had someone over?" Danny's soft voice breaks the chatter around the table. Bruce is honestly surprised to hear the boy speak up without prompting. It takes him a moment to answer how unexpecting the request is.

The boy seems to think his silence is an answer, for he ducks his head and brings up his shoulders. "Nevermind. It was stupid. I'll tell Clockwork to forget it."

"No. No. This is your house as well, Danny. You can invite any of your friends. I'm just surprised Clockwork would allow you to contact guests from your old home." Bruce assures. His eyes flicker to the rest of the table, showing how everyone is focused on their own plates, but all conversation has died.

He is sure half of his children are attempting to develop super hearing with how much they are straining to eavesdrop.

"He's not really a friend, per se." Danny pushes some of his food to one side of his plate. It's a nervous habit Bruce had realized he does when speaking of his old home. Not just food but anything he can fiddle with, as Danny seems unable to hold still when nervous. "Wes and I have....a history, you can say. Clockwork said that he was allowed to visit because he knew what was happening but wasn't too involved with the situation. Not like Sam and Tucker, my best friends, or my sister Jazz. "

A history? Oh no, was this "Wes" an ex?

Bruce looks again at his youngest and fights a wince at Damian's dark sneer as the boy stabs his broccoli. Please let Wes just be anything but an ex. He doesn't want to follow the other kid around to make sure he doesn't have to fight off his children from bringing him harm.

Dick speaks up, likely thinking along the same lines. "I'm glad you can still have someone to see you! When will he be here? Will he be alright with Gotham's....everything?"

A smile is fighting at the corner of Danny's lips, and Bruce swears he can hear his children's hearts shatter as the boy flushes slightly. "Trust me, Wes can handle a lot. Clockwork said he would let Alfred know the details if Master Bruce agreed."

The butler pulls out an old-looking pocket watch. After checking the time, Alfred snaps it close with an impassive smile. "Clockwork will have the boy here in three days. I believe Danny will have a few days off then to enjoy his company?"

It's not really a request, but Bruce still nods. "Of course."

Danny's entire face lights up. It's the most joy he's seen on the boy's face since his arrival. "Thank you, Master Bruce. Thank you, Alfred. Can you please excuse me? I want to prepare his room."

"Of course, dear boy," Alfred nods his head. Danny is gone in a flash, a secret smile pulling at his lips. He waits a few seconds, so Danny's footsteps can fade away before leveling a stern stare at everyone at the table.

Bruce straightens his back out of reflex when that all-knowing stare passes over him. He barely contains a sigh of relief when Alfred slightly lingers on him to transfer his gaze to Damian.

He feels terrible for his son but cannot step between the butler and him. Damian will have to fight this battle on his own.

"I trust everyone here will not give Danny or his guest any grief during his break." It's not a question. It's a camond. Everyone shivers slightly out of fear.

"No."

"You don't have to worry about me"

"I have some stuff to do."

"Of course not Alfred."

Alfred doesn't precisely threaten them, but he does make his eyes a little darker "Danny's guest will not find shadows following him."

A few of his kids look heartbroken, while Jason has an expression of manic glee blooming on his face.

The following night, Danny is asking for ideas on where to take Wes on his tour. Apparently, both are from a small town and are used to having fewer options for entertainment.

"Kids usually either went to the mall or the local burger place. The mall wasn't even that big too, so after a while it got boring" Danny admits.

"You have to take him to Batburger," Jason tells Danny. Bruce fights the urge to leap over the table and punch his child. Jason knows that Danny hadn't gone to the restaurant so a lot of his siblings had been dreaming of taking the boy on a date there.

He's just rubbing salt in the wounds at this point.

"I think I will. I'll take him to museums too. Wes loves history." Danny writes some ideas down in a little notebook. He's taken to carrying it around, brainstorming a perfect weekend there.

Bruce had glanced at it earlier that day, when Danny had been busy cleaning and had read, "Make out point- Dick said the stars are the clearest there."

He almost had a heart attack. For all that Danny was Alfred's boy, Bruce still felt very protective of Danny like his own. He did not want his somewhat son to be going to any place with the name make out point.

No one speaks after that- primarily due to his younger children trying to shift their sobs and the older ones trying to comfort them without letting Danny notice.

Eventually, Cullen gets up from the table, excusing himself with a half-baked excuse of needing to do homework, and Harper chases after him. The two are followed by Tim- whose eyes are glossy- Steph, who looks to be biting her lip. Duke, whose hands are curled into fists, and Damian, who stomps out like a bull about to charge.

Bruce leaps to his feet but is stopped by Dick, who pats his shoulder. "I got this."

"The plot thickens," Jason says before he, too, goes after his siblings. For all his teasing, his second oldest adores his brothers and sisters, so he'll be there in their time of need.

"Is something...wrong?" Danny asks after a moment of hesitation. "I can tell Clockwork and Wes not to do the visit."

"No. You have Wes over. We talk." Cass tells him, giving the boy a wink as she, too, steps away. "Tonight, all ice cream."

"Yes." Alfred sighs. "I do believe that would be best. A frozen treat to soothe the pain of heartbreak. I'll bring up the tubs for everyone in a moment."

Bruce fights the urge to bury his face in his hands as Danny spring to his feet offering to help with the ice cream, unaware he is the cause for the comfort food.

Despite the apparent tension in the manor, the promised weekend does arrive. Danny is beside himself with excitement. He's not wearing a suit for once- he's gotten to copying Alfred in a misguided attempt at a butler uniform- and is wearing street clothes.

Besides, when the first day, Bruce has never seen Danny in street clothes. He's surprised that Danny dresses like a punk rocker- complete with a black leather jacket, big combat boots, and various chains.

He looks like the type of person fathers warn their daughters away from. Bruce hates how that only makes more of his children bestowed.

Danny had given everyone a happy smile when Bruce handed him the keys to one of his sports cars- he saw no reason why Wes and Danny should take a bus to the airport when he had plenty of vehicles to lend him. Alfred had allowed the boy to go alone since Danny needed to go through a particular gate for Wes.

Apparently, Clockwork would be sending Wes on a private plane. It burned not to know who Clockwork was or what he did, but Bruce fought the urge to snoop to get Alfred to stop glaring at him.

"I bet you he's not even that great," Tim grumbles, stuffing a chocolate cookie into his mouth. "Bet you he's ugly."

"With buck teeth" Steph adds stealing her own cookie.

"He likely never even seen a sword," Damian spits.

"Come on guys, I know it sucks, but we can't just dis on Wes 'cause Danny likes him," Duke says though it's not very convincing, seeing as he dropped over the couch in a depressive slouch.

"Why are all the good gays taken?" Cullen sighs, ignoring the meta.

Bruce opens his mouth to offer some comfort or maybe lecture them, but the front door opens before he gets a chance. Everyone sits up only to slump down as Dick strolls in with a cheerful smile. They all glare at him, which makes Dick flauter in his steps for only a second.

"They're waiting for Danny," Bruce tells him. Dicks smile regains his cheer as the oldest throws himself on the couch.

"He's outside with his guest. Lovely guy."

"Is he ugly?" Tim asks hopefully. His dreams are dashed as Dick shakes his head.

"He could be a supermodel."

"Of course, he can."

Jason snorts from behind a book. Bruce knows he is not reading it, simply by the fact he hasn't turned a page in the last ten minutes- his son speed reads whenever he adores a book- and is likely enjoying the show.

The door opens again, this time accompanied by two sets of laughter. An unfamiliar voice wheezes "-Dash then reads out love poems he wrote about Phantom!

"No!" Danny gasps. "Not Dash Baxter. What did the other A-listers do in retaliation?"

"Nothing that's the crazy part. They had poems too!"

The two voices are carrying, so Bruce has a few seconds to prepare himself. So do his kids, who all sit up at attention, a few with not as welcoming expressions as he would like. The voices round the corner, and Bruce looks at Wes first.

Dick was right. He's a handsome young man with ginger hair and flickers of freckles. He is dressed similarly to Danny, but a little less black and slightly more burnt orange to add color to his punk look. A worn-out backpack is swung over his shoulder while the same arm is tugging along a suitcase behind him.

Wes is also holding Danny's hand with a free hand.

Damian makes a slightly wounded sound that digs a dagger into Bruce's heart. His baby's first heartbreak.

Danny looks surprised to see them all, seeing as the family usually prepares to go out as the Bats at this time- but he smiles widely after a moment. "Everyone I like you to meet Wesley Weston. Wes, this is my boss, Bruce Wayne, and his kids, Dick Grayson-wayne, Jason Todd-Wayne, Casandra Wayne, Tim Drake-Wyane, Stephine Brown, Damian Wayne, Cullen Row, and Harper Row."

Wes smiles at them, waving the hand he has interlocked with Danny. Bruce winces as most of his kids give half-hearted greetings. Thankfully Alfred is in the kitchen and misses their terrible manners.

Wes pauses and squits at the youngest of the house before he sighs. "Of course, it happens in this dimension too."

"What?" Danny asks confused

"Danny and I aren't dating," Wes tells the room, ignoring the startled boy he's launched onto. "Danny just needs to have physical contact for his mental health. So we hold hands. He also needs to have someone sleep with him. Otherwise, his core doesn't recharge correctly."

"Wes!" Danny protests. "They don't know about cores!"

"Oh," Wes shrugs, waving his hands at them, "Never mind. Processed as normal, Danny and I will cuddle in his room. Danny lead the way."

Alfred's foster son flushes a bright red but quickly tugs the guest away. Jason shakes from unrestrained laughter as Damian stabs the table on which he is sharpening his knives.

Bruce yells after the two boys.

"The door stays open, Danny!"

"Master Bruce, it's not like that!" Danny yells back, mortified, and Wes breaks into impish laughter.

"I hate him," Duke hisses, and Bruce gives in to the urge to bury his face in his hands.

It's going to be a long weekend.