#I will wake up so late and get nothing down | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

theonottsbxtch · 1 day ago

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I LOVED YOU FIRST PT3 | FC43

part one | part two |

an: this is the most requested part three. i fell asleep so many times writing this but i’m waiting for tate’s new song so it gave me something to do. not proof read.

wc: 8.3k

It was nearly dawn when Franco turned off the engine, but the silence felt hollow. He sat motionless in the cockpit of his car, his hands still gripping the wheel even though he had finished his lap over an hour ago. The empty track stretched before him, a stark grey line splitting the waking sky, and for a fleeting moment, he considered taking off down it one more time, just for the noise.

That had been the only reason he'd even bothered coming out this morning. Noise. Anything loud enough to cut through the thick numbness that had settled over his life the last two years. Even racing—his childhood dream, his only real thrill—felt distant, just another repetition in an endless loop of things he used to care about.

He let go of the wheel, his fingers stiff and aching, and slumped back into his seat. The inside of the car still smelled new, though he’d driven this car all season. But everything in his life felt new in the wrong way, like he was breaking in someone else's skin.

Franco closed his eyes, but there was no escape there either. As much as he tried to avoid it, the image still came easily: two years ago, his wedding day. The hushed gasp of the guests as he had walked back down the aisle alone, the weight of his father-in-law’s hand on his shoulder. And her eyes—his childhood best friend, his first love, his confession to her still raw in his throat. He'd bared his heart, thought he was finally doing the right thing, only to watch her turn him down, her gaze steady and unwavering.

It was strange how clearly he could remember it. She had moved on. He was too late.

And yet here he was, two years later, sitting in the emptiness his choices had carved out. His marriage was the result of the aftermath—inevitable, unstoppable, once her father had coerced him into making it right. He’d been a fool to think he could live with it, that he could somehow build a life out of that hollowed-out choice. But every day he woke up, and every day it was the same. A stranger beside him, a public charade. He was trapped in a marriage more binding than he had ever imagined, one that had closed off any other life he might have had.

A tap on the side of the car startled him out of his thoughts. His agent, Eddie, looked at him expectantly, his face creased with concern. Franco forced himself to meet his gaze, pulling on a blank expression he’d perfected over the last two years.

"You good, man?" Eddie's voice sounded so distant for some reason.

Franco forced a nod. “Just getting in some practice.”

Eddie raised an eyebrow. "You finished over an hour ago."

Franco shrugged, not offering any other excuse. What could he say? That he no longer felt the rush, that even the raw thrill of racing at 200 miles per hour left him feeling nothing? It would be admitting too much. He wasn’t sure he could handle what Eddie would say if he knew.

As he finally climbed out of the car, his gaze drifted toward the track, that endless stretch of asphalt, and for just a second, he felt a flicker of what it used to mean to him. Freedom, purpose, maybe even love. But that had been before her—before he had thrown it all away, thinking he could have her back. And now all he was left with was this: the shadow of a life he hadn’t chosen, the memory of a love that had been real once, and a future he couldn’t bring himself to face.

Franco shook his head, stuffing the thought away. "Let’s just get through today" he muttered to himself, the words a quiet vow.

Tomorrow, he’d put on the act again.

The house was silent when Franco walked in. He closed the door softly, slipping off his shoes out of habit rather than any real desire to keep the peace. She was there, sitting in the dimly lit living room, curled on one end of the couch with her legs tucked under her. A book lay open on her lap, though her eyes weren’t moving over the words.

They hadn’t spoken much in days, maybe even weeks, except for the occasional small-talk exchange over morning coffee or at some public event. When they were alone, it was as if they were two strangers who’d agreed on a routine. She looked up as he walked in, and he wondered if she was waiting for him to speak first.

But he didn’t. He simply nodded, moving past her as if it were just another evening in this quiet, loveless house. He heard her shift, a quick intake of breath, and he paused, feeling her eyes on his back.

“I cheated,” she said, her voice flat, almost as if it were a statement she’d practised a thousand times, something she needed to let out before it grew stale.

Franco slowly turned to face her, letting the words settle, though he didn’t feel anything sharp or raw. Instead, there was just the dull, familiar weight of something like resignation. He studied her face, waiting for the anger or betrayal to come, but there was nothing. Just the same emptiness that had been there for two years.

“Okay,” he said, his voice calm, resigned.

She blinked, her expression faltering. “Okay?” she repeated, as if she hadn’t expected that response. Her brow furrowed, and she set her book aside, sitting up straighter. “That’s it? Just… okay?”

He shrugged, slipping his hands into his pockets. “What do you want me to do about it? You’ve already done it.”

She searched his face, a flicker of frustration and hurt sparking in her eyes. “Why aren’t you angry, Franco?” Her voice was louder now, cracking slightly. “Why don’t you care? Why don’t you… love me? What did I do wrong?”

For the first time that evening, he felt something stir. Not anger, exactly, but a kind of distant ache. He looked at her—really looked at her—and saw the exhaustion in her face, the years of pretending, of building a life on a foundation that had never been real. And he knew, somehow, that she felt as trapped as he did.

“This isn’t about what you did wrong,” he said quietly. “I just… I don’t have it in me to love you, not in the way you want.”

She shook her head, her eyes brimming with frustration. “But we were supposed to be in this together. My father… Your team. The whole world expects it. I have tried, Franco. I’ve done everything I could to make this work. I just wanted you to see me, to try…”

He sighed, looking away. “We’ve been pretending for two years. It’s not that I haven’t seen you—I just don’t think we were ever meant to see each other this way.”

Her shoulders slumped, the fight draining out of her. She stared at her hands, twisted together in her lap. “So what now? We just keep living like this, sharing the same house, putting on a show for everyone?”

Franco didn’t have an answer for her. He didn’t know what they were supposed to do, what the next step would even look like. They were bound together by more than their vows—by the expectations, the pressure, the image of a life neither of them had chosen. He knew she deserved better than this emptiness, the hollow echo of what might have been.

After a moment, he sat down across from her, resting his elbows on his knees, his voice barely more than a whisper. “What do you want from me?”

She looked away, biting her lip, and for the first time he saw the loneliness in her eyes. "I don’t know," she murmured, her voice quiet. "I don’t know if I ever knew."

She looked down, fidgeting with the hem of her sweater, and then let out a long, quiet breath. "I’ll speak to my father," she said, her voice steady. “We’ll break it off. There’s… someone else. For me, I mean.”

Franco nodded, feeling only a strange sort of relief. “Okay.”

She gave a small, sad smile, as if she’d expected more—anger, maybe, or regret. “I’ll make sure he keeps the sponsors on your team,” she added, her voice softening. “It’s the least I can do.”

Franco shook his head. “He doesn’t have to. I don’t want you worrying about that.”

For a moment, she looked at him with something almost like sympathy. “Franco… it’s not your fault,” she said.

He frowned slightly, unsure what she meant. “What isn’t?”

She looked away, gathering her thoughts, and then back at him, her gaze unwavering. “It’s not your fault you still love her after all these years. Some things… they just don’t go away.”

His throat tightened, and he couldn’t find the words to respond. Her words hung between them, exposing something he’d tried to bury, something he hadn’t even admitted to himself. His silence was answer enough.

“She was a very lovely woman when I met her,” she continued, her voice softer, almost wistful. “I’m sure she hasn’t changed. I’m sure you two would be perfect together.”

He looked down, swallowing the ache in his chest. For all their distance, she’d seen more of him than he’d realised, even if they had never truly belonged to each other. Maybe she’d known all along. Maybe that’s why they’d been drifting from the beginning, like two people playing their parts, waiting for the script to finally run out.

He stood up, running a hand over the back of his neck, his voice low. “I’ll sleep in the guest room tonight.”

She nodded, her eyes full of an understanding that somehow made this harder. “Okay. Goodnight, Franco.”

He gave her a brief nod, then turned and headed down the hall, his footsteps soft against the hardwood. The walls of the house felt like a cage, closing in with every step, but he knew that maybe, for the first time, there was a way out—for both of them.

Franco closed the door to the guest room, feeling the weight of everything settling over him. He felt like a visitor in his own life, just as he had every day for the past two years. He slipped off his watch, set it on the nightstand, and reached for his phone to set an alarm.

Just as he did, his mother’s name lit up the screen. She called him every night, their routine barely wavering since he’d left home all those years ago to chase his dream. He answered, feeling a bit of the tension ease from his shoulders.

“Hey, Mama.”

“Oh, finally, you picked up! I thought I’d missed you tonight, hijo.” she said, her voice bright and warm, filling the room with a bit of comfort he hadn’t known he needed.

“Sorry. It’s been… a long day,” he replied, not sure where to start even if he’d wanted to.

“Oh, mi amor, I’m sorry to hear that,” she said, sympathy lacing her voice. She paused, her tone shifting to something lighter. “Well, you’ll never guess who I ran into today.”

He smiled slightly, settling back against the pillows. “Knowing you, mama, it could be anyone.”

“You flatter me,” she laughed. “But no, this one you’ll want to hear. I ran into your chiquita's mama at the market this morning.”

At the mention of his childhood best friend, Franco’s heart gave a small, involuntary jolt. He kept his voice casual, though he could feel his pulse quicken. “Oh yeah?”

“Guess who’s moving back home?” she said, her voice bright with excitement. “She’s coming back without that boyfriend of hers—what was his name, Angelo or something? Anyway, I don’t know what happened there, but her mama didn’t say much, just that she’ll be moving back in soon.”

Franco fell silent, her words sinking in. She was moving back. Back to the same town, back to where they’d both grown up. It was strange hearing it now, after all this time—especially tonight. He tried to imagine her there, close by, after years of being nothing more than a memory, a lingering ache. She hadn’t been in touch since his wedding. They hadn’t spoken, not really, since that day he’d confessed everything.

“Franco?” his mother asked, her voice pulling him back. “You still there?”

“Yeah,” he murmured. “Yeah, I’m here. Just… surprised, I guess.”

“Well, I thought you’d be pleased to know,” she said gently. “I don’t know why she’s moving back, and I suppose it’s none of my business, but I hope she’s doing alright. I always liked that girl.”

“Me too,” he said, his voice barely more than a whisper.

He wondered what could have happened to bring her back. She’d seemed happy, at least in the few times he’d seen her in the public eye over the last two years—smiling, vibrant, that spark still in her. Whatever had drawn her back, he doubted it was anything good.

“Anyway, I just thought I’d tell you,” his mother went on, a hint of cheer in her voice. “I’m sure you’ll see her around when she’s back. Goodness knows you two could catch up. I’ll let you get some sleep, though. You sound tired, love.”

“I am,” he said honestly. “Thanks, mama.”

“Goodnight, mi amor,” she said softly. “Try not to worry so much. Things have a way of working out.”

He hung up, setting the phone down on the nightstand, but his mind kept circling back to her, the unanswered questions piling up. Why was she moving home? Why now, after everything?

He lay back, staring at the ceiling, feeling the quiet gnaw at him. For the first time in a long while, he felt something stirring beneath the emptiness—something that he hadn’t let himself feel since that day two years ago. A flicker of hope, of curiosity. And maybe, just maybe, the faintest hint of longing.

Franco woke up to an unsettling silence the following morning. The kind that felt thick, heavy, and somehow different from the usual quiet he’d grown accustomed to in this house. He rubbed his eyes, groggy, his mind still tangled in the remnants of last night’s conversation with his mother. She was moving back home. The thought had settled somewhere deep, like a stone sinking to the bottom of his chest, and he hadn’t stopped wondering why she’d come back.

He rose slowly, crossing the hall toward the master bedroom to grab his things, but as he reached the door, he noticed it was open just a crack. There was an odd stillness inside, an emptiness. Pushing the door open fully, he froze.

The wardrobes were wide open, their shelves bare, nothing left but empty hangers. He scanned the room, taking in the strange absence of her things: the jewellery stand, her perfumes, even the photos from the dresser—all gone.

On the bed, her wedding band glinted in the morning light, sitting atop a folded sheet of paper. Heart pounding, Franco walked over and picked up the note, her familiar handwriting scrawled across the page in clean, deliberate strokes.

"Go live a life you’ll enjoy. Go get the girl."

He read the words over and over, the reality slowly sinking in. She had really left. It was over, finally—no more strained conversations, no more pretences, no more empty rooms they shared out of duty. She had made the choice for both of them, letting him go in a way neither of them had been able to until now.

He let out a slow, deep breath, feeling a strange mixture of relief and regret. She had given him a way out, but he felt a twinge of sadness for the life they’d tried and failed to build, and for the woman who’d known him well enough to let him go.

After a moment, he picked up his phone and scrolled to his agent’s number. It rang twice before Eddie answered, his voice thick with sleep.

“Franco? It’s barely morning. You okay?”

Franco ran a hand through his hair, still processing everything. “Yeah. Listen, Eddie, I need you to book me a flight.”

“A flight? Where are you going?”

“Home. To Argentina.” He paused, and for the first time in two years, the words felt right. “I just need to go home.”

Eddie hesitated on the other end. “You sure about this?”

“Yes. I’ll figure everything out when I get there,” Franco replied, feeling a resolve he hadn’t felt in years.

Eddie sighed, but there was something like approval in his voice. “Alright, I’ll get it sorted. You’ll be on a plane by tonight.”

“Thank you, Eddie.” Franco hung up, glancing around the room one last time. He pocketed her note, her words still echoing in his mind.

True to Eddie's word, Franco was on a flight six hours later. The journey was a blur of cramped seats, stale air, and the faint taste of regret that clung to the back of his throat. The turbulence was relentless, like some cosmic joke, as if the universe itself wanted to remind him that nothing had ever been easy. He tried to sleep, but the aching pull of everything he’d left behind in that house—his marriage, his choices, his dreams—kept him awake, staring out at the dark sky, thinking of all the roads that had led him here.

By the time he landed in Buenos Aires and caught a car for the long drive north to his family's old village, the exhaustion had crept under his skin, weighing him down like a thousand unspoken words. But the quiet beauty of the countryside—the sun setting over fields that stretched on forever—started to soothe him, even if just a little.

The car ride seemed endless, every minute dragging with the weight of his thoughts. But when the familiar sight of his family’s village finally came into view—cobblestone streets, thatched roofs, the scent of freshly baked bread hanging in the air—something inside Franco began to shift. The city felt miles away, the noise, the crowds, the weight of his past life all falling away as he crossed into the place that had always felt like home.

The moment he stepped through the door of his childhood house, all of that exhaustion seemed to vanish. The house was exactly as he remembered it—warm, full of life, and alive with the kind of energy he hadn't felt in so long. His mother’s soft humming from the kitchen filled the air, the scent of her cooking familiar and comforting in a way nothing else ever had been.

“Mama?” he called, stepping into the kitchen.

She looked up from the stove, a warm smile spreading across her face as she caught sight of him. It was like the years had slipped away in an instant, and before he could even move, she was across the room, enveloping him in her arms.

“Oh, hijo,” she said, pulling him in tight. “You’re home. You’re really home.”

Franco closed his eyes for a moment, inhaling the comforting smells of garlic and simmering stew. It was the same as it had always been. His mother’s embrace felt like a balm, her steady, familiar presence filling up the spaces in his chest that had been empty for so long. He let himself relax into the hug, feeling like he could finally breathe again.

“Yeah, mama,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “I’m home.”

She pulled back, looking at him with concern now, her gaze soft but knowing. “You look like you’ve been through a storm. What happened, Franco?”

He shook his head, a slight smile tugging at his lips. “It’s… been a hot minute.”

She stepped back, eyes still lingering on him as she turned toward the counter, gesturing for him to sit. "Come, sit. You must be starving."

As he slid into the chair at the table, his mother’s eyes flickered to his left hand, where the ring had once sat. The absence of it didn’t go unnoticed.

"Franco," she said softly, her voice delicate but insistent, “Where’s your wedding ring?”

He froze, his fingers absentmindedly tracing the spot where the band had once been. The question hit him harder than he expected, like a weight on his chest.

He took a deep breath, his words coming out slow, almost reluctant. "I… I never loved her, Mama. Not like I should’ve. Not like I should’ve loved the person I married."

His mother didn’t flinch, didn’t offer a shocked look or try to comfort him with false reassurances. Instead, she simply nodded, as if she had known all along. The silence between them was calm, understanding.

"I knew," she said, her voice gentle but firm. "I knew from the start, Franco. I could see it. You were never... you were never right with her."

He exhaled, a small weight lifting from his chest. His mother didn’t judge him. She hadn’t expected him to make some fairy tale of a marriage. She had always known him better than anyone.

"Why didn’t you say something?" he asked, the question slipping out before he could stop it.

She smiled softly, her hand brushing his cheek. "You had to learn it on your own, cariño. I couldn’t take that from you."

He sat back in his chair, letting her words sink in. This was home. The quiet understanding, the unconditional love. The very things he had been running from for so long. And now, in this moment, he felt like he was finally allowed to come back to it.

His mother leaned in, brushing the hair from his forehead as if he were still that little boy who had left for the big city years ago. "You’ll be alright, Franco. I know you will. You always find your way back."

He smiled, his heart full, and reached across the table to squeeze her hand. "Thanks, Mama," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "I think I’m ready to find it now."

His mother studied him for a moment, as if weighing whether to say more. The comfortable silence stretched between them before she finally spoke, her voice casual, but with a slight undercurrent of something he couldn’t quite place.

“You know, she moved back this morning,” she said, a soft note of curiosity in her tone.

Franco looked up sharply, his stomach tightening at the mention of her. “She did?”

His mother nodded, stirring a pot on the stove. He shifted in his seat, trying to steady the flutter of emotions that were beginning to rise in his chest. She was back. The thought of her living just next door made his heart ache in ways he wasn’t prepared for, especially after everything that had happened. It felt like a sign, but it also felt like a question—one he didn’t know if he was ready to answer.

“I don’t know what’s happened,” he said, the words coming out quieter than he intended. “But I’m sure it’s for the best. She’s probably just trying to figure things out.”

His mother gave him a thoughtful look before turning back to the stove. "It’s not easy, you know. Coming back here after all those years. Maybe she just needs some time. Things haven't been easy for her, either."

Franco nodded absently, his mind already racing, a thousand thoughts flooding his mind. He’d always wondered what it would be like if they were close again—if the years between them could just vanish, and they could pick up where they left off. But that was before everything had changed.

Before he’d made a mess of everything.

“I’ll give her space,” he said after a long pause. “She clearly needs it if she’s come back home. I don’t want to crowd her, not like this.”

His mother looked at him for a long moment, her gaze soft and full of the kind of love only a mother could offer. She didn’t press, but Franco could tell she was seeing more in him than he was letting on. She always had that way of reading him, even when he didn’t want to be read.

“I think that’s wise, Franco,” she said quietly. “But don’t wait too long. Sometimes, the right things—people—can slip away if we don’t take the chance when we can.” She gave him a small smile, her eyes gentle but full of a mother’s wisdom. “Don’t make the same mistake twice.”

He swallowed hard, looking down at his hands. The right things... people. Was she talking about her?

He wasn’t sure. What he was sure of was that he had already lost so much—lost the girl he had once called his best friend. His true love. That much was clear.

But he couldn’t make the same mistake again. Not with her. Not now.

“Yeah,” he said, his voice hoarse. “I won’t. I’ll give her the time she needs… and then, I’ll figure out what comes next.” He forced a small smile, looking back up at her. “But first, I think I need to settle in here, Mama. Just for a bit.”

She smiled warmly at him, nodding as she moved to set the table. “Take your time, cariño. You’ve earned it.” Then she added softly, almost to herself, “And when you’re ready, you know where she is.”

Franco nodded, the weight of her words hanging in the air like a promise he wasn’t sure he was ready to make. He had to sort through the years of distance, the pain, the confusion, and the mess he had made before he could even think of approaching her again.

That night the house was quiet as Franco prepared for bed, the kind of quiet that settled deep into the bones. The weight of the day’s emotions, of the journey—of everything—pressed on him like a physical force, but he couldn’t quite shake the feeling that something was still missing.

He stood in front of the mirror, his eyes scanning the reflection—a man who hadn’t truly looked at himself in a long time. His face was a little more worn, the years of racing and the strain of the past two had carved lines into his features. And yet, there was a boy in those eyes too—the one who used to laugh freely, who used to dream of more than just what life had given him.

He sighed, running a hand through his hair, the quiet ache of the past two years swirling in his chest again. Where did it all go wrong? He’d asked himself this so many times, but the answer had never been clear. His life had seemed like it was on track, until it suddenly wasn’t. Until it all came crashing down, leaving him here, in his childhood home, looking at a version of himself he didn’t recognise.

Where did it all go to shit?

He turned away from the mirror, needing a moment of peace, a change of scenery. The night air felt crisp as he stepped out onto the balcony, the soft night breeze brushing against his skin. The village was quiet, the distant sound of crickets filling the silence. The stars above him were impossibly bright, as if they had been waiting for him to step out into this space to show themselves.

For a moment, he just stood there, taking it all in. The vast sky, the deep silence, the comfort of being home, of being away from all the chaos of the life he’d left behind. He closed his eyes for a beat, letting himself breathe.

Then, he froze.

From across the yard, on the roof of the house next door, a figure was sitting—her silhouette outlined by the soft glow of the stars.

Franco didn’t know how long she’d been sitting there. The sight of her—after all these years—was like a jolt to the chest, a flood of old memories and emotions crashing over him.

At first, he considered turning back into the house, pretending he hadn’t seen her, pretending the universe wasn’t trying to push him into a conversation he wasn’t ready for. But his feet stayed rooted to the ground, his eyes locked on her figure, so familiar, so her. He hadn’t expected to see her tonight, especially not like this. Not sitting on the roof, in the same place they used to sit together as kids, watching the stars and talking about everything and nothing.

He had no idea how to approach her.

Before he could make up his mind, she spoke, her voice drifting through the night air, quiet but unmistakable. “Staring’s rude, you know.”

Franco’s breath caught in his throat, his chest tightening at the sound of her voice. It had been so long since he’d heard it, and yet it felt like no time had passed at all.

He stayed where he was, still unsure, a little frozen by the way his heart was racing. “I didn’t think you’d notice,” he finally said, his voice coming out quieter than he intended.

She tilted her head slightly, but didn’t look directly at him. “I always notice,” she replied, a faint smile playing on her lips, though her tone was more playful than anything else.

He let out a small laugh, a bit surprised by her nonchalance. It was just like her to act so casual, even in the middle of something heavy.

“I wasn’t planning to interrupt,” he added, his hands shoved deep into his pockets. "Just thought I'd leave you to it."

She didn’t respond right away, but he could see the way her gaze flickered toward him, though she didn’t move. After a beat, she spoke again, her voice quieter now. “You came home.”

“I did,” he said, his heart racing as he stood there, not knowing where to go from here. “Took me a while, but I’m here.”

She nodded, the soft rustle of her hair catching the starlight. "Good. I didn’t think you would."

Franco swallowed, the weight of the unspoken words hanging thick between them. "I... didn’t think I would either."

There was another pause, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. Just... heavy, in a way that felt like they were both waiting for something. Waiting for the moment when they could go back to being what they once were. But Franco knew, deep down, that it wasn’t going to be that simple. Too much had happened between them, too many years spent apart.

Her voice broke the quiet, her words soft but inviting. “There’s space next to me. You should come up here.”

Franco hesitated for a second longer, unsure, but something in her tone, a subtle pull, urged him forward. He glanced around briefly before deciding to take a chance.

Carefully, he climbed over the small stone wall dividing their balconies, his fingers finding familiar purchase as he pulled himself over. The moment his feet hit the roof, the memories of their childhood came rushing back—sitting on the very same roof, talking about everything and nothing, watching the stars as if they were the only two people in the world.

It felt surreal, like no time had passed at all, even though everything between them had changed.

She was already sitting cross-legged, her back turned slightly toward him, but she patted the spot next to her, silently urging him to join her. He moved toward her, then sat down, the cool roof beneath him grounding him in a way he hadn’t expected.

When he finally reached the top, she shifted to make room, and before he even fully settled beside her, she was resting her head on his shoulder. It was as natural as breathing, a comfort he hadn’t realised he’d been starved for.

The night seemed to stretch on forever as they sat together, not speaking, just sharing the same space, the same memories that lingered between them like a soft, delicate thread. It was as though the silence held all the things they couldn’t say out loud.

Finally, it was her who broke the quiet, her voice low and tinged with regret. “Sorry I never replied to your letter.”

Franco’s heart stuttered in his chest at the mention of the letter. He hadn’t expected her to bring it up, not after everything that had happened. Slowly, he turned his head to look at her, his voice barely a whisper. “You... you received it?”

She nodded slowly, lifting her head from his shoulder but not fully pulling away. She stared up at the stars, her fingers absentmindedly tracing shapes in the air. “Four days ago,” she said, her voice soft and distant, as though the words were hard to say.

Four days ago.

The words hit him like a punch to the gut. The letter. The letter he’d written years ago, before everything spiralled out of control, before the wedding, before he called it all off. The letter where he had laid bare his feelings for her—telling her everything he’d never had the courage to say before. Telling her that he loved her. That he’d leave his fiancé for her. That he wanted to be with her.

The letter had been the final step, the desperate confession that he couldn’t hold inside any longer.

“I… I didn’t know,” Franco muttered, his throat tight. “I sent it because I thought you needed to know. I thought you needed to hear it.” He paused, looking down at his hands. “I didn’t expect you to just—ignore it.”

Her breath hitched slightly, and she looked over at him, her eyes meeting his with an intensity that made him ache. “I didn’t ignore it,” she said softly. “I didn’t know about it. Angelo hid it from me.”

Franco froze. Angelo. The same guy she’d been with all those years, the one who had kept the letter from her. The weight of it hit him hard, a cold knot in his stomach. “He hid it?” His voice barely came out above a whisper.

She nodded, her eyes not leaving his. “I only found it four days ago when I was packing.” She paused, as though weighing whether or not to say more, then sighed. “He kept it from me, Franco. Told me it was nothing, just some silly thing from the past. But it wasn’t nothing. It was you. It was everything you were trying to say. And I didn’t even know until hours before your wedding.”

Franco could feel his chest tighten, the words he had written, the words that had been locked inside of him for so long, echoing in the space between them. He had no idea she’d never received it. No idea she had been living in that oblivion, thinking that nothing had changed when, in reality, everything had been laid out for her years ago.

Franco closed his eyes, the weight of her words settling over him. His entire life had been built around the lies he’d told himself, and in the end, he had only hurt the one person who had always been there for him.

When he opened his eyes again, he was staring at the sky, the stars so far away. “I never stopped loving you,” he said quietly, the confession falling from his lips before he could stop it. “I never stopped thinking about you, even when I thought I should. Even when I tried to move on, I always... always thought about you. About Monza.”

Her voice was soft but steady, a quiet confession in the night air. “I shouldn’t have come to that wedding,” she said, her words hanging in the space between them like a breath held too long.

Franco blinked, his heart stuttering slightly in his chest as he turned to look at her. “Why?”

She sighed, her eyes focused on the distant horizon, her expression unreadable in the soft glow of the moon. “Because I thought I was over you, Franco. I really did. I thought that seeing you get married to someone else, someone who wasn’t me, would help me move on. But when I watched you declare your love for me in front of everyone... it hit me all at once. I felt like I was coasting through a lie with Angelo for two years.”

Franco’s chest tightened at the mention of Angelo again, but he didn’t interrupt. He knew this was something that had been simmering beneath the surface for a long time, something they had never really spoken about. She took a slow breath, her fingers playing with the hem of her shirt as she spoke again.

“I couldn’t give him all of me,” she continued, her voice wavering for the first time, just the slightest crack in her calm demeanour. “When you still had half my heart.”

Franco felt a lump form in his throat at her words. She still loved him. Despite everything, despite the time apart, despite the man she had been with, a part of her had never truly moved on.

He didn’t know what to say. He couldn’t find the right words to express the swirl of emotions inside him. The guilt, the confusion, the longing. All he could do was listen, his heart aching with each word she spoke.

“Amor…” His voice faltered, and he cleared his throat, trying to find his grounding. “She cheated on me. My wife.” He added as though she needed clarification.

Her head jerked up, her eyes wide with surprise, but she said nothing. She waited for him to continue, her breath catching in her throat.

Franco stared out at the stars, his voice barely more than a whisper. “I didn’t feel much at first. I think I expected it. In some way, I always did. I’d been living in a marriage where I wasn’t really present for a long time.” He paused, his eyes distant as he recalled the feeling of his world unravelling. “But... when I found out, I couldn’t feel anything. It was like I had already shut myself off from it all.”

She studied him, her gaze soft but piercing. “Really? You didn’t feel... anything?”

Franco’s heart twisted, “I felt guilty,” he admitted, his voice low. "I didn’t feel hurt or anger. I just felt... guilty."

She frowned, the confusion and concern evident in her eyes. “Guilty? Why? You didn’t cheat. You weren’t the one betraying her.”

Franco chuckled bitterly, a hollow sound that felt foreign to him. “No, I didn’t cheat. But I’ve been mentally cheating on her for years now.” His voice cracked slightly, the admission slipping out before he could stop it. “With you. I’ve been thinking about you. Wanting you. Wondering... what could have been.”

Her breath caught in her throat, and she stared at him for a long moment, the weight of his confession hanging between them like an invisible force. The air was thick, heavy with the things they hadn’t said, the things they had both buried for too long.

For a moment, neither of them spoke. The only sound was the distant rustle of the trees, the wind whispering through the leaves. Then, she shifted slightly, her fingers brushing against his, tentative, like she wasn’t sure if it was okay to reach out. But Franco didn’t pull away. He let her fingers weave through his, and for a moment, they were back to the way they used to be—close, without words, just a connection that had never truly faded.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, her voice breaking the silence again. “I didn’t mean to make things more complicated for you. I never wanted you to feel guilty.”

Franco shook his head, his fingers tightening around hers. “You didn’t. It’s my fault. I should’ve been honest with myself. With you. With everyone.”

Her hand found his, her grip soft but reassuring. “We can’t undo the past, Franco. But maybe... maybe we can stop running from it.” She looked up at him, her eyes searching his face for something—maybe a sign that they were on the same page, that this wasn’t just a momentary lapse, but the beginning of something else.

Franco’s heart skipped a beat. The ache inside him—this pull, this longing—felt more real now than it ever had before. But he couldn’t let himself get lost in it. Not yet. Not before he figured out what came next.

“Maybe,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “Maybe we can.”

But for now, they stayed there, hand in hand, watching the stars as the night stretched on—together, but not quite ready to bridge the distance between them. The future was uncertain, but in that moment, with her close to him again, it felt like the possibility of a new beginning was still there.

And maybe that was enough.

She shifted slightly, pulling her knees closer to her chest as she stared up at the night sky, the stars scattered above them like little pieces of a puzzle they couldn’t quite put together. Her voice broke the quiet again, this time more introspective, tinged with a kind of sadness that Franco couldn’t shake. “Why are we like this?” she asked softly, the question hanging in the air between them. “Why can’t we ever get it right? Why does it feel like we keep missing each other?”

Franco felt a lump form in his throat as he turned his head to look at her. He had no answer. No easy explanation for the years of missed opportunities, the broken promises, the things left unsaid. All he could do was let the silence stretch for a moment before he spoke, his voice thick with regret.

“I don’t deserve you,” he said, his words barely audible, but full of the weight of everything he had kept buried for so long.

Her hand tightened around his, her fingers warm and steady against his skin. She didn’t look at him immediately. She just stared at the stars, letting the night take them both in. But when she did speak, her voice was clear, almost a little too sharp, as if she were trying to distance herself from the ache inside.

“I know,” she said, her words simple, yet filled with the unspoken truth between them.

Franco exhaled slowly, his chest tight with the unrelenting guilt that seemed to follow him wherever he went. “I really don’t,” he added, his tone heavier this time, the words more raw, like they were scraping against his very soul.

She turned her head slightly, her eyes soft but steady as she met his gaze. “But you’ll always have me anyway,” she said, her voice gentle, almost a whisper, but strong in its promise. “All of me. Even if you think you don’t deserve it, even if you feel like you’ve lost me, I’m still here. I always will be.”

Franco closed his eyes, his heart pounding in his chest. He wanted to believe her. He wanted to reach out and pull her into him, to hold on to the promise she was offering, but he knew that he had to fix everything first. He had to prove to himself, to her, that he was worthy.

After a long moment, his mind shifted, a question bubbling up to the surface, something that had been nagging at him for a while now. “What happened to Angelo?” he asked, his voice quiet, but urgent with curiosity.

Her gaze flickered away, her expression becoming unreadable for a brief second. She didn’t speak at first, but then, she sighed, her voice small as she turned her head back toward the night sky.

“He proposed,” she said softly, her words hitting Franco like a punch to the gut. “He got down on one knee, right there in the middle of a restaurant, and asked me to marry him.”

Franco’s heart sank. He had imagined the two of them together, but hearing her speak those words, hearing the finality in her tone, made something inside him shift. His breath caught in his throat.

“And you didn’t say yes,” he whispered, the realisation washing over him slowly, painfully.

She shook her head, her fingers grazing the edge of her sleeve as she gathered her thoughts. “I couldn’t bring myself to say yes,” she murmured, her voice distant, like the memory still held weight over her. “I couldn’t lie to him, and I couldn’t lie to myself anymore. Not after everything. I just... I couldn’t. And when I looked at him, I knew something wasn’t right. I knew that the whole time, I had been lying to both of us, pretending that he was enough when I wasn’t even sure of myself.”

Franco felt his chest tighten, his heart aching with understanding. “I’m sorry,” he said, the words tumbling out before he could stop them. He wasn’t sure if he was apologising for Angelo, for her, or for himself, but it felt like the right thing to say. “I’m sorry for everything.”

She didn’t respond right away. She just sat there beside him, her head back on his shoulder, her fingers still twined with his. The night stretched on, both of them lost in their own thoughts, but there was something in the air that felt different now. It wasn’t just the weight of their shared history or the unsaid words that hovered between them. There was something else.

Something that, for the first time, felt like the beginning of something new.

After a while, she spoke again, her voice barely audible. “I never wanted to hurt him. But I couldn’t pretend anymore. Not when you’re still here, not when you’ve always been here, Franco.”

Franco closed his eyes, his fingers tracing the curve of her hand. “I understand,” he whispered, though he wasn’t sure if he did. He wasn’t sure of anything right now except that he needed to make it right—whatever that looked like.

They stayed like that for what felt like hours, the quiet stretching between them, neither of them in a rush to break the stillness. The night air was cool against their skin, and the stars above seemed to twinkle with the same quiet understanding that hung in the air. For the first time in years, it felt like they were both exactly where they were meant to be—together.

But slowly, the rhythm of her breathing changed, softening, slowing. Franco felt it before he saw it, the gentle shift in the weight on his shoulder. He glanced down, his heart softening at the sight of her—her lashes fluttering closed, her face serene and peaceful in sleep. She was completely relaxed, as if the weight of everything had been lifted, even if just for a moment.

He didn’t move, didn’t want to disturb the quiet that had settled between them. But as minutes ticked by, he knew it was time to move her. Carefully, he slipped his arm beneath her, lifting her gently, cradling her close. Her head rested on his chest as he stood, her body instinctively curling against him. She felt weightless in his arms, and for a second, he couldn’t believe how natural it all felt.

As he carried her through the door to her room, the familiar smell of her childhood home wrapped around him—the scent of lavender and old wood, a place both foreign and intimately familiar. The room was just as he remembered, simple and cosy, with little traces of her scattered throughout. He looked down at the floor he used to sleep on when they were young The soft, pale light of the moon filtered through the window, casting everything in a gentle glow.

He placed her gently in the bed, tucking the covers around her small frame. For a moment, he just stood there, watching her, his chest heavy with emotion. Everything about this felt so right, so painfully wrong at the same time. He should have been here years ago. He should have never let things get so far. But now, he was here. And he wasn’t going anywhere.

He leaned down, brushing a strand of hair away from her face before pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead. His lips lingered there for a second longer than he meant to, his heart aching with all the things he never said.

Just as he turned to leave, to head back to his own house, her voice stopped him.

“Don’t.”

Franco froze. His hand rested on the window frame , his heart stalling in his chest. He turned slowly, not sure if he had heard her correctly.

“What?” he asked, his voice quiet, almost unsure.

She looked up at him, her eyes still heavy with sleep, but there was something in her gaze—vulnerable, raw, but full of longing. “Don’t go,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. “I can’t watch you walk away again. Please don’t.”

For a moment, Franco stood there, his chest tight as he processed her words. Don’t go. It was all he needed to hear. She didn’t want him to leave. After everything that had happened, after all the distance between them, she still wanted him here.

He walked back toward the bed, his movements slow and deliberate. He didn’t need to say anything; the weight of the moment, the look in her eyes, said it all. He carefully slid under the covers, settling beside her, the warmth of her body so familiar yet so new.

Without a word, she shifted, curling into him, her head finding its place on his chest, her hand resting gently against his side. Franco wrapped his arm around her, pulling her close, and for the first time in a long time, he felt at peace. It wasn’t a perfect moment, but it was real. And it was theirs.

They stayed there, the rhythm of their breathing slowly syncing, the quiet of the night wrapping around them. No more words were needed. No more distance. Just the two of them, together, holding on to each other like they were afraid to let go.

And as they drifted off to sleep, tangled together beneath the covers, Franco realised that this moment—this feeling of being home—was everything he had been searching for.

Home.

Her.

It was all synonymous.

She was his home.

the end.

taglist: @sp1rl @yennasaurusrex @ellen3101 @firefirevampire @directioner5life @littlegrapejuice @obxstiles @scopeiguess @newlifeforus @justsisse @zestytimbit @taygrls @charlosvibesonly @sparkleofpizza

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casuallyanidiot · 17 hours ago

Text

Yandere academic rival who really, really wishes he could just get you out of the way.

Dead dove Do Not Eat! MDNI ! NSFW !

Tw. Dubcon/Noncon, bullying, academic pressures, blackmail, oral sex, explicit photos, mentions of baby trapping, yandere, stalking, forced relationship, AFAB reader

Elias had a certain level of respect for you.

You both attended a prestigious university crammed full of students vying to make connections and nab a cushy position for themselves in the future, and while it was easy for him to be on top of the social and academic scenes, he knew you had to work a bit harder. He came from a very wealthy household, one where needing something was merely a concept and not something he ever actually encountered. You, on the other hand, definitely come from a lesser background than him and his circle. Your scholarship and just above the average academics seemed to have pushed you into a good spot to be hoisted into the same realm as him.

But he didn't really think of you much at first.

You were some nameless face that wasn't really worthy of being around him. Maybe he would catch glimpses of your hair, or someone woud mention you in passing and he'd pretend to be intruiged.

It was really when you started to be compared to him of all people that he started to really pay attention.

You were smart, cunning, and ruthless when it came to your assignments. Just like him. Normally he worked overtime, paid industry professionals to help review his papers, his study materials and poured blood sweat and tears into his academics. And yet you somehow managed to be on his level with less than half the resources. It drove him up a wall because if you were nearly as good as him now, then what could you be like if you had the chance?

Elias was like a man obsessed after your sudden, explosive rise in the minds of professors and lecturers alike. He spent hours studying, shirking his friends and other responsibilities just to make sure he was still better than you, to keep you in your place.

He started to focus in more on your personal life, too.

Where on earth did you come from? He's half convinced that you were genetically designed in a lab to piss him off. But the more he glares at the back of your head when you're not looking, the more he's transfixed. You're like a black hole, or some kind of other abyss like metaphor. Fuck, you had him writing poetry in his head. He hated poetry. He hated you. Or at least, he would really like to hate you, but he couldn't. You had the same amount of drive as him, maybe even a little more. No matter what he did, he was forced to acknowledge you, forced to be aware of every twitch of your hand or every flutter of your eyelids. To him, you were something that demanded attention, even if it was taken from him through gritted teeth.

The only reprieve from his spiraling was the fact that you felt the same way about him. He liked to imagine that you were just as obsessed with him, sitting there in the late hours of the night writing down equations with him as your sole motivator.

But then he finds out that he's not even occupying your mind, and he loses his shit.

"Oh Elias? Yeah I guess he's fine. Huh? Rivals? What the- no way I just want good grades. He has nothing to do with it haha."

You just said it in passing when someone teased you about it, and he knew that he shouldn't linger on your words for too long. If anything, it should make him feel better. You had nothing against him, so it meant everything was fine, right? Wrong. It was so wrong.

Elias was seething, nearly throwing a tantrum. How could you not even think about him. Him! You were some piddling, pathetic excuse for a human being, and you had the audacity to not even regard him when he spent nearly every waking moment thinking about you.

He was fine just watching you from the corner of his eye. He was fine knowing that on some level, the two of you had a respectable if not distant relationship. Just because in some aspect, he wanted a piece of you all to himself. And if you weren't going to let him just have a little bit of your life, your passion, your drive, he would just take all of you instead.

He follows you into the library late one night. You're sitting there, glowing in the warmth of the nearest lamp while your pen makes soft scratching noises against the paper. You look pretty. You've always looked pretty to him. You don't notice him as he approaches, and he feels any vestiges of doubt or restraint float away. Even now, as he loomed over you, you didn't even spare him a glance.

The library was empty. He made sure it was so before hand, and he's glad he did. The quite air was shattered by the sound of him shoving you over the priceless lacquered wood desk. Your eyes go wide as you take him in, and his hands fly up to your throat.

"Augh! What are you-?"

"Shut up." He hisses and narrows his gaze. Your pulse is racing underneath his fingers, and he has half a mind not to crush your windpipe into oblivion so that he can be the last one to feel it. "You have no idea," He mutters and leans in close. Your frightened breath ghosts over his skin, and he shudders. Now that he thinks about it, this is the first time he's ever been so close to you. It feels so right. He never wants to be away from you again. Not when you look so damn alluring with tears rolling down your cheeks and your clothes rumpled on the floor by his feet.

He wants you like this always, with your twitching cunt stuffed full of his fingers and your cries filling his ears. Soft, wet squelching noises met each of his ministrations, and a cruel, wonder filled grin spread across his face.

"You have no idea how much you've driven me wild," He laughs. It's a sharp sound that grates on your ears. "How much you infuriate me," Each word is punctured by a thrust, by a curling motion that has you gasping and seeing stars.

If this is what he has to do so that you notice him, so you will just fucking care about his existence more than you would any other speck of dust on the street, then so be it.

It only gets worse from there.

Elias takes photos of you. So many. Ones of your crying face, ones of your leaking pussy, some of him shoving his dick past your puffy lips. Once the camera shuttered and they were in his hands, it was all over.

He played the role of your boyfriend after that.

There wasn't a moment where he wasn't hovering over your shoulder, whispering threats into your ears. He gets you to start doing worse in your classes and on your assignments, and for once, he's happy. He finally has your eyes on him, and if you ever try to leave him or say anything, then he'll make sure you can never show your face around here again. Don't worry, though. He's kind enough to keep it so you won't fail outright. In fact, he'll just slip some money to some of the professors so you don't have to do anything other than sit on his lap and pay attention to him while he actually works for the top spot.

Elias takes you out on fancy dates as if it's any way to soothe the sting of having your life ruined. He pays for everything and practically preens under the feeling of finally getting what he wants. He's such a brat, and he doesn't even care about hiding it when he's with you. Part of the reason why he likes you is he can be his nasty, awful and conniving self and you have no choice but to accept it. He doesn't mind if you're reluctant or stubborn. In fact, he kind of likes it because in the end, you still gave in to have a chance to graduate from a prestigious school. And plus, now you're living the high life with him! It's kind of a win win if you think about it.

He loves having you sit on your knees (a cushion underneath them of course. He wouldn't want you to ever actually get hurt) and taking his cock in your mouth while he studies. You look so cute like that, with your eyes all narrowed in mildly hidden frustration, and he loves it even more when he thrusts into your throat. You always make these little spluttering noises that just drive him wild, and he clamps his thighs around your head to keep you there.

Elias who soon becomes the university's beloved model student. He's not going to let anyone get in his way ever again, especially not after he has you to provide for now. After all, he's got plans for you. Once he manages to put a baby in you, he'll know that your future family is secured, and he's got to support all of you. There's no way he can fail now!

#my writing #yandere #yandere x reader #tw yandere #yandere male #yandere x you #x reader #dead dove fic #stalker yandere #yandere rival #male yandere #yandere x darling #yandere boyfriend #fanfic writing #darlingcore #yandere concept #yandere character

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moonchildreads · 14 hours ago

Text

don't you know what the night can do?

summary: you call for help in the middle of the night and eddie comes to your rescue

pairing: best friend!eddie x reader

tags/warnings: mdni. technically a college au? depression, abusive relationship (not eddie, he's a sweetie), talks of potential homelessness, no SA happens but eddie thinks it did for a second before it's cleared up (again, it does NOT happen, but since it could be triggering consider this your warning), hurt/comfort, happy ending!

wc: 2.8k

a/n: i was supposed to post this yesterday but upon rereading it i realised it was me trauma dumping so i rewrote a significant portion of this to make it into it's own thing. i hope it brings you as much comfort for you as it did for me, and if you are in a situation like reader is, please seek help. i believe in you and i am rooting for you 🖤

Now's the time when it's down to me and you Spread these wings, we'll be flying

It’s already late when the phone rings and he’s immediately shoving his feet into his sneakers, rushing out the door of his apartment and into his van. It’s even more late when he parks across the street and decides against waking your entire building up by ringing your doorbell. Hurriedly, he searches his glove box for that little spare key you gave him for emergencies - the one that has a big metal ring and a tiny plastic tab with your name on it. He lets himself in, the storm outside in the sky and inside your head getting worse and worse every second that ticks by.

Eddie finds you slumped against the small table where your phone rests, the receiver still in your hand, and he knows. He knows something terrible has happened and it doesn’t matter that he’s been anticipating it ever since you told him you’d begun dating that asshole classmate of yours because nothing could have prevented his heart from shattering the moment he sees you.

You’re a lifeless looking doll, devoid of any emotion and feeling. He’d fear you’re actually dead if he couldn’t see your chest rising and falling slowly.

“Sweetheart?” he says, lowering himself to where you’re sitting and trying not to spook you. “Are you okay?”

“Huh?” you say, almost surprised when his eyes come into view. “You’re here.”

“Yeah, baby, of course I’m here,” he shuffles closer to you, but still doesn’t touch you.

Eddie swears he can still feel your arms around his neck sometimes, how your hands always used to find his, and how your legs would tangle on the couch all the time. You don’t like to be touched too much these days. He misses your warmth.

“Are you okay?” he repeats.

“Cold.”

“You’re cold? Come on, let’s get you to bed.”

“NO!”

Your voice rings loud in the quiet apartment, your eyes locking with his in a fiery yet terrified stare. What are you so afraid of? Eddie takes in your appearance and it’s clear that you’ve been crying, though he doesn’t really understand why. He peers into the hallway that leads to your bedroom, searching for answers though he finds none.

“I- I’m sorry… I made a mess,” you explain, deflating once more. “I was upset and the sheets, they… they’re not on the bed anymore.”

“That’s okay,” Eddie says. “We can put them back on.”

You afford him a movement that barely registers as a nod and he thinks he hasn’t seen duller eyes in his entire life, except for when he used to look into the mirror when he was younger. You shouldn’t feel like that, not if he can help it. He raises up onto his knees, still keeping his distance but signaling that it’s time to get up.

“It’s late, sweetheart. Come on, you need to get some sleep.”

“Can… can I get a hug first? Please?” you whisper, your face contorting into a pitiful sight.

Eddie doesn't say anything before he pulls you into a tight hug, his arms shielding you from anything and everything that might be trying to hurt you. He lets you bury yourself into him, lets you crawl underneath his skin and bones, become a part of his very soul and he holds you tighter whenever you exhale another heavy breath.

He waits and waits with his ass turning into ice on the harsh linoleum floor of your kitchenette area, and he doesn’t let go before you do because you once read to him that you should always hug kids until they let go first and he still hasn’t forgotten about it. A booming thunder shakes your windows and Eddie feels as though the storm has moved inside your home. You are no longer a kid, but right now you remind him too much of himself when he first went to live with Wayne, and so he keeps holding you until you pull away first.

"I really needed that, thank you," you smile up at him, but it doesn't reach your eyes. He takes it as a win anyways, because you haven’t smiled in a while and Eddie has always loved your smile.

"You can have as many hugs as you'd like, sweetheart. Why don't you go take a shower while I get your bed ready, huh? You can leave the door open if you want, I’ll be here."

You follow him into your hallway, eyes full of tears at his words. He might be the only person in the world that knows you better than you know yourself, and you don’t take that for granted. You take a hot shower and rub at your skin with your washcloth until it's raw and sensitive and cleansed, and when you come out wrapped in your fluffiest towel Eddie says nothing about the fact that when he walked into your bedroom, he could tell that you’d ripped your bed sheets off the mattress somewhere between a nervous fit and calling him in the middle of the night. There’s a new set, clean and smelling like your favorite fabric softener, and he’s laid out your most comfortable sleepwear at the end of your bed.

Eddie throws your used sheets into the washing machine and gets it started while you get changed, and when you're done you fish out a pair of his pajama pants and a shirt he left behind what feels like eons ago. He thanks you, almost surprised to see you have those clothes and it dawns on you that he doesn’t remember he gave them to you, because you haven't had one of the movie nights where he used to wear them in a while now. When you're both ready for bed, Eddie lifts your covers for you and tucks you in, laying next to you on top of the duvet.

"You can get in if you want," you say, and it's clear you want him to do it.

Eddie thinks he'll never be able to say no to you, so he gets in without you having to ask twice. You are quick to shift closer to him once he gets under the sheets and he takes the hint to put his arms around you, bringing your head to his shoulder and tangling his legs with yours. It’s been ages since he’s held you like this and he’s not going to start complaining about it now - not when you’re right back where you’ve always belonged.

"I have to move out by the end of the month," you mutter, starting to explain the night's events.

"That sucks. You’ve been house hunting yet?"

"No. I found out today and I was hoping Matt would help."

"And he didn't," Eddie says, knowingly.

"He didn't," you confirm. "I asked him to come over earlier because I was upset and he said he’d be here for dinner."

"You cooked?" he hums, petting the back of your head.

"Yeah. I made, uhm, lemon chicken? It wasn't very good."

You've always been a wonderful cook, at least in Eddie's eyes. You don't have a lot of recipes you can whip out from under your belt upon short notice, but the ones you do have are some of his favorites. The chocolate chip cookies he has to hide from Wayne, the chicken noodle soup you bring over when he’s sick, the banana pancakes that always went along with his scrambled eggs and bacon when he used to sleep over. You've never made lemon chicken for him, but you're good at following a cookbook so he thinks it mustn't have turned out inedible.

By now Eddie has learned that "it wasn't very good" means "Matt didn't like it". He doesn’t understand why that piece of shit is dating you if never likes anything you do. Hearing you repeat the things he says to make you feel bad makes your best friend want to dig through your fridge for the leftovers and eat them all just to prove to you that your boyfriend is wrong.

"I think I have to break up with Matt."

Your words make Eddie's head turn. Of all the things you could have said tonight, this was not something he ever imagined. He could have sworn you'd date Matt until he'd decided he'd had enough of you, or you'd marry him and he'd have to sit in the front row watching that fucking guy sap you of your life force for the rest of your days.

Eddie is haunted by the sound of your vacant voice when you'd asked him to come over. At the forefront of his mind he can see it all in loose pieces: the disarray in your bedroom, your obsession with being clean, Matt not being here after you said he’d come over earlier for dinner. He waits for you to paint a clear picture, hoping he won't have to break your boyfriend's nose (or worse) when he sees him around.

"Did he hurt you?" Eddie asks, heart sinking.

"I don't think he likes me anymore," you say, breaking down. Eddie shifts closer and holds you while you shiver. "He, um… he said I can't live with him if I can't find a place before I have to move out of here. A-and when I got upset because I don't want to be fucking homeless during my last semester, he- he tried to distract me with sex."

"What the fuck."

"I t-think he only came o-over ‘cause he wan- he wanted to get laid," you admit between hiccups. "And when he- he couldn't g-get it, he just left.”

"Sweetheart, fuck, I'm so sorry. He's such a fucking asshole," he lets you sob into his arms, the tears coming out of your tired eyes rivalring the downpour outside hitting your windows.

“He- he wouldn’t even hug me. I was crying and he just stood there! He doesn’t care about me being homeless, he- he doesn’t care about me at all!”

“Shh, it’s okay, you’re okay. I’ve got you, I’ve got you,” he says gently, and you want to believe he’s telling the truth but you don’t. You can’t.

“It’s not. It’s not okay,” you try to move away but he follows you, heart chasing after yours.

"What do you mean, baby?" he brushes a tear away from your face as you both sit up.

“I- I don’t know what’s wrong and I’m just… there’s nothing in here,” you say through your teeth while you grab at your shirt frantically, scaring him with the rough motion. "I feel so empty and I think- I know there's something really wrong with me, Eddie. Something has to be wrong. I’m not normal.”

"Hey, no, no, there's nothing wrong with you," he pulls you into him once more, not letting you run away from him again. "Sweetheart, I promise you, you're- you're not empty, what are you even saying? You're full - you're so full. You're full of love, a-and kindness, and if that son of a bitch is making you feel like you're not full then, I don’t know, dump his ass! He's mean and pathetic, please don't- don't break yourself into a million pieces for someone who doesn't deserve you."

"I don't feel full, Ed."

"That’s okay, we can work on it," Eddie says, confidently. "And I’m not gonna let you be homeless, I swear. You can move in with me until you feel ready to start house hunting!"

"What if I never feel better?"

"Then we’ll live together forever,” he says like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, and you know he means it.

"Ed-"

"Babe. I'm serious. One hundred percent. You can even have my bedroom, I don't care."

"And where are you gonna sleep, huh? Don't be stupid."

"Wayne slept in the living room for like a decade and he's still kicking, I'll survive."

You turn in his arms so you can look at him. Eddie looks back at you with his warm eyes and mischievous smile firmly planted on his face. He’s so special to you. And luckily for him, you've never been able to say no to him either.

"When is your lease over?" you ask, wiping your tears and feeling suddenly determined.

"Uh, after you graduate I think?"

"I’ll move in with you but don't renew it. Let's find a new place."

"Yeah?" Eddie grins. "You wanna be roommates? For real?"

"I think- I think it could be good for me," you raise your hands and squish his cheeks. I think you could be good for me. "I’ve missed this. I’ve missed you."

"Me too," he says, gaze softening.

He knows it's not your fault Matt has taken over your life, not when he's conditioned you for the past year to depend on him for everything. Eddie also knows he himself has been the source of many of your fights, and while it hurts to see you cry every time Matt gives you the silent treatment until you apologize for something you didn't do, your adamant refusal to cut your best friend off your life makes him incredibly proud of you.

As much as you've stood up for Eddie throughout your lives, you've never been good at standing up for yourself. He thinks it’s time he starts standing up for you too.

"You, um," Eddie starts, grabbing your wrists to pull your hands away from his cheeks and onto his lap. "You really are gonna break up with him though, right? Because I don't think I can pretend like everything's cool with the guy when he keeps hurting you like this."

"No, I know. I can't keep going like this anymore. There's... there's so much stuff you don't even know, Ed. Sometimes he really scares me," you confess.

"He hasn't, like… hit you or anything, right?" his throat constricts.

"No, but he says things... weird things. He's so mean sometimes,” you huff, finally getting rightfully angry. “He got mad for no reason the other day and said that the only time he felt I loved him was when he got sick and I stayed with him during Spring Break. I spent an entire week taking care of him and then when he gave me the fucking plague, because of course I got it from him, Robin had to take care of me because he was sooo busy."

"He's such a goddamn loser, he totally held you hostage ‘cause you had plans that didn’t involve him for once. I knew he had a problem with us going to Steve's cabin, he’s never liked any of us!”

"Also he says I humiliate him in class because I think I'm smarter than him. Like it’s my fault his grades suck.”

"You are, though," Eddie says, grinning.

“Huh?”

"You are smarter than him. You have always been the smartest of us all."

"No, I’m not,” you scoff. “Nancy was valedictorian."

"Be real, you didn't want that shit anyway."

"No, I really didn't," you giggle softly. "I was too busy running around town with you and Jonathan.”

“Those were the good days,” he snorts. “We totally made Hopper age in dog years.”

After the laughter ends, you two look at each other and know that something has changed tonight. Something that was slowly veering off track got violently course-corrected, and you let yourself feel hopeful for the first time in a very long time.

You’ll go to sleep in Eddie’s arms and wake up to the smell of him frying bacon. You’ll whip your banana pancakes from thin air and you’ll start deciding together what you want to sell, what you’ll put in storage and what you’ll take with you once you move out of your place. You’ll talk about your finals coming up and Eddie’s new job, and he’ll do the dishes while you call Nancy, who’ll call Jonathan, who’ll shake Argyle up, who’ll call Eden, who’ll call and wake up Robin, who’ll yell at a sleepy Steve to get up, who’ll then call you to ask when they should be coming to help you lug all your stuff into Eddie’s van.

And Matt won’t call all weekend, because he doesn’t care about you, but you will never know that because you’ll be getting drunk at Robin and Steve’s while Eden tells you about a two bedroom apartment that a classmate of hers is vacating after graduation, and everyone else will make bets on how long it’s going to take for you and Eddie to notice that you won’t actually need two bedrooms.

But for now, with eyes that hurt from crying and limbs that feel heavy with a tiredness you’ve been carrying for months, you feel a little less empty because you know that no matter what the future holds, you’ll always have Eddie by your side.

thank you for reading!

#bunny writes #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson

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loveesiren · 2 days ago

Text

Doing It All For Us (Pt. 13)

Masterlist

Rafe Cameron x Reader

Summary: Y/n has a little scare but it's not as bad as what's to come...

Warnings: Fluff, braxton hicks

Word Count: 4.3k+

Rafe blinked awake, his vision blurred as his face was pressed deep into the pillow. He reached for his phone, low growl spilling from his throat as he tried to wake up. He rubbed his eyes and unlocked his screen. The clock read 12:15. "Shit..." He muttered.

"Good afternoon, sleepy head!" You cood from the bathroom door.

Rafe rolled on his side and took in the sight of you. "Beautiful girl..." He hummed. You looked flawless in a flowing white sundress, strappy wedges, and a tan sun hat sitting atop your head. You had neutral colors for your make up today which made your Y/E/C eyes pop. "How are you this perfect?"

You smirked at his compliment. "Get up, baby. Topper and Kelce want to meet at the club."

Rafe gathered his thoughts, still lost in the beauty that stood before him. Shit, he had to meet Courtney to pick out a ring. He got up and pulled on his jeans. "You go ahead, sweetheart. I have to help my dad with something."

"Are you sure?" You asked, putting your earrings in. "I can come with if you want."

"No, sweet girl," He said, kissing your temple. "Go. Eat. Have fun. I'll meet you back here later, yeah? Then we'll put on a movie and I'll rub your feet until you fall asleep."

You smiled up at him. "That sounds perfect."

He places a soft, tender kiss to your lips before crouching down to kiss your belly. "Later kid, be good for your momma!"

You chuckled as you watched Rafe leave the room, continuously glancing back to get one last look at you. You took one last look in the mirror before gathering your purse and making your way down stairs. You set the alarm and locked the door before heading to your Benz Truck. Your car. The car you've barely touched since you moved here. You've had the luxury of being chauffeured around by your fiance and friends all year.

You climbed in and noticed you'd need to adjust your seat as your baby bump pressed against the steering wheel. "Been a while," You laughed to yourself. You adjusted the seat to your comfort and checked all your mirrors. You felt really...independent. And you weren't sure if you liked it. You missed Rafe. You wondered what he and his dad were up to today. But, to be honest, you needed a break from everything going on and lunch with your friends sounded great. You started the car and took off.

Rafe stepped off the ferry and scanned the crowd, spotting Courtney pretty quickly. "Hey Court," He greeted.

"So you really proposed to my best friend on a whim? No plan, no ring? You're supposed to let me help you plan!" She scolded.

Rafe chuckled. "I'm sorry. I couldn't wait."

"So where'd you do it?" Courtney asked as they began walking towards the town.

"In my room at the Bahama house. She puked the whole plane ride there, poor thing. She was so tired when we got there we just went straight to my room." He said, purposely leaving out the part about the gold. He'd save that for another time. "She just looked so beautiful in the late sun, I couldn't wait."

"That girl could turn into an ogre and you'd still call her beautiful," Courtney laughed.

"Nothing could take away her beauty." Rafe said softly, picturing your face in his mind. God he missed you. It hadn't even been two hours.

Courtney grabbed Rafe's hand and dragged him towards the jewelry store. "Come on, lover boy. She deserves a proper proposal and a fat diamond!"

Rafe owned nice jewelry. Gold chains, nice watches, his signature signet ring. But he had never, ever bought jewelry for a girl until you walked into his life. The diamond R necklace he had gifted you was something he stumbled upon on a TikTok. Now obviously, that jewelry was cheap and he'd never let a $5 zinc necklace touch your perfect skin. So he had a necklace custom made for you. But this was different. This was huge. This was a symbol of the love he had for you. Something you'd wear proudly for the rest of your life making it known you were taken. Owned. A Cameron.

He was overwhelmed with all the gleaming rocks reflecting in the glass cases. He didn't know where to begin. He followed Courtney, looking where she looked, trying to take mental notes of things she pointed out on each ring.

"And who are we shopping for today?" The store clerk asked. "Ah, aren't you Ward Cameron's son? Rafe?"

"Uh, yes ma'am." Rafe replied, caught off guard.

"We're looking for the perfect engagement ring for my best friend!" Courtney squealed. "Uh, his girlfriend." Courtney gestured to Rafe.

"Fiance," Rafe corrected.

"Oh yeah, he proposed without a ring. Can you believe that?! Now I have to help him find the perfect one!"

"Well, congratulations! I'd love to help you find the right one. My name is Renee." The clerk said kindly. "Tell me about your fiance!"

"Oh no, here we go..." Courtney said under her breath but still smiling as she looked up at Rafe.

Rafe eyes were bright and he beamed with excitement. "She's immaculate. She's beautiful, like a goddess, especially when the sun hits her eyes, they shine like diamonds. Her voice is like honey, soft and sweet. I could listen to her talk all day. And her smile..wow..out of this world. She brightens up the whole room, no, the whole event! You can feel her presence when she's near. She's strong, like a lion. Vicious when she needs to be. Bat shit crazy and insanely fun. I've never been bored around her. She's resilient. She's like hypnotic when she moves her body and -"

"Okay, big guy!" Courtney says, patting him on the shoulder. "I'm gonna stop you right there."

Renee chuckles. "Absolutely smitten with her, I see."

"She's my everything." Rafe smiles softly.

"Follow me," Renee says, gesturing them over towards a case in the back of the store. "Now, I don't usually show these to our younger customers, this is our priciest collection, but it is also our nicest, and guaranteed to last a lifetime. Longer than a lifetime. If she is buried in this ring, it will still be perfect centuries from now."

Rafe winced at the thought of you buried in the dirt. He didn't like that image. But he knew he'd be right beside you if you were.

"But seeing as you are a Cameron, and absolutely over the moon for this woman, I thought I'd let you take a peek."

Rafe stared down at the absolute stunning 20-karat emerald cut diamond ring that sat before him. It was perfect. It was perfect like you.

"Now, I also have some lovely options over here, a bit smaller, but bold with personality-"

"I'll take it." Rafe said, cutting Renee off and stopping Courtney in her tracks.

"Son, this ring goes for one million dollars," Renee chuckles.

"Rafe, I know you're rich but shit dude you don't have to drop a milli on this ring. She'll be happy if you gave her a piece of string, dude." Courtney said.

Rafe smiled, thinking about all the money he now had. "This is the one. I'll take it."

"So Rafe really proposed? No ring or anything? And you said yes?" Topper asks once again.

You laugh as you swallow the last bite of your salmon. "Sure did! I don't need a ring. I just need him."

"He still has to get a ring though, I mean come on!" Kelce added.

"You know what's funny? Before I moved here, before I met Rafe, I was so materialistic. I suppose I still am with some things. But all the guys I dated in high school always got me expensive jewelry and bags and all that shit. I loved it. It made me feel loved and powerful. Like I was better than everyone else. But now? Now, I don't know. Rafe makes me feel loved in different ways...better ways. If we lost all our money tomorrow and had to live on the cut, I'd be okay with it. As long as I was with him."

Kelce and Topper smile. It took everything in them not to tell you Rafe was out looking for a ring right now.

"Well boys, this has been lovely. But a bitch is tired and I need a nap." You say with a smile as you begin to gather your things and stand up. The boys stand up with you, ready to walk you to your car.

You gasped loudly, falling back into your seat and clutching your stomach. "Fuck!" You screamed.

"Y/n? What's wrong?!" Kelce asked, both boys quickly by your side.

You took a few breaths. "I - ah! I don't know!" You had a sharp pain in your abdomen that you hadn't experienced before. "I-I think something's wrong - ow, fuck! - with the baby!"

"Okay, let's get you to the hospital now." Topper said, scooping you up in his arms and rushing towards the exit. Kelce grabbed your things and followed suit. Topper got you in the car, sliding in beside as Kelce drove as quickly as possible.

You were trying your best to breathe but you were terrified. You weren't even in your third trimester yet. You couldn't be in labor could you? "Call...Rafe..." You said between breaths.

"On it," Topper said as he took out his phone to call Rafe.

Rafe pulled out his phone, signing the last signature on the paperwork for your ring. "It's Top," he says to Courtney.

"He better not of squealed." She sighed as she took the bag from Renee's hand, thanking her for all her help.

"What's up, Top?" Rafe said as he answered the phone.

"Dude! Something is wrong with Y/n and the baby!"

"What?! What do you mean?!" Rafe stood up quickly and ran out of the store.

Courtney grabbed the ring and stored it safely in her backpack before running out after him.

"I don't know dude! Everything was fine and then she just like toppled over in pain. We're on our way to the hospital right now."

"Rafe, hurry!" He heard your pained voice cry out in the background.

"I-I'm on my way! I'll be there soon, baby, I promise!" Rafe said before the call disconnected.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck!" Rafe said, pacing back and forth.

"What's going on?!" Courtney asked.

"Y/n's in pain. Something with the baby. Fuck I need to get there now but the ferry is two fucking hours, I-"

"Dude! I took my dad's helicopter here! It's just a mile up the road, come on!" Courtney said.

Rafe breathed a slight sigh of relief before they both took off running.

"Renaldo!" Courtney called as she approached the helipad.

"Ms. Fields, are-"

"We have to go now! It's an emergency!" Courtney yelled.

"Okay, okay! Let's go!" Renaldo responded. "We'll be there in about 15 to 20 minutes, Ms. Fields."

Rafe's leg was shaking with anxiety as they flew over the water. Extremely grateful in this moment that he was friends with Courtney. Her dad was one of a handful of people on the island that owned a personal helicopter to use at their disposal. 15 minutes. He reminded himself, but it still felt like hours.

"We can land pretty close to the hospital. We'll be there soon!" Courtney reassured him.

Rafe chewed on his finger, a million thoughts going through his head. Was the baby okay? Were you okay? He felt guilty for not being by your side. The one time he leaves the island something horrible had to happen.

The second the helicopter touched the ground, Rafe hopped out and started running. Courtney thanked her pilot and took off after him. They made it to the hospital in record time and Rafe burst through the front doors, almost breaking them off their hinges.

"Y/n Y/l/n! My fiance! Wh-where is she?!" He asked the nurse at the front desk, causing a scene in the waiting room.

"Let's see here..." The nurse said as she grabbed her clipboard and looked over names.

"Now!" Rafe demanded.

"Sir, do not give me attitude. I'm trying -" She was quickly cut off by Topper's voice.

"Rafe! She's in here!"

Rafe discarded the nurse and ran to your room. There you sat, once again in a hospital bed for a horrifying reason. He never wanted to see you in a hospital again unless it was for the birth of your baby. But you were sitting up, smiling and talking to the nurse.

Rafe walked in slowly, chest heaving and sweat soaking through his shirt from the anxiety and running. "Baby...What's going on? Are you okay?" He asked, coming to your side and taking your hand.

You smiled at him. "I'm okay, baby. I promise. So is Wolfie."

Rafe was confused. He had prepared himself for the worst but nothing seemed to be wrong. Still, he checked over you for anything out of place which made you giggle.

"Braxton hicks," The nurse chimed in.

"Brax...what?" Rafe asked, as he leveled his breathing.

"Braxton hicks. They are essentially false contractions. Definitely scary if you aren't sure what they are, but they are harmless. All is okay. We gave her some medicine for the pain. I just have to finish up a bit of paperwork and she should be set to go home." The nurse smiled and excused herself from the room.

Rafe breathed a sigh of relief and pressed his forehead to yours, placing one hand on your swollen belly. "So you're okay? You're both okay?"

You laid your hand on top of Rafe's. "We're okay, baby. I promise. Just tired. I'm about ready for that foot rub." You teased which pulled a smile out of Rafe.

"Topper and Kelce went to get your car."

"Where's your truck?" You ask, wondering how he got here.

"Uh...it's at the dock."

You furrowed your brows. "The dock? Were you on the mainland?"

"I'll tell you later, baby. I promise. For now, let's get you home and keep you off your feet for a few days."

You wondered what exactly was going on, but everything had been so crazy lately and quite frankly, you were exhausted. All that mattered was that Rafe was here now.

Rafe drove your car home while you relaxed in the passenger seat, trailing your fingers over the sensitive skin of your stomach. Wolf was kicking ever so lightly, also tired from his big day.

Rafe hopped out of the car and quickly came to your side, as he always did. He helped you out of the car, grabbing all your things and walking you to the door.

"Are you hungry, sweet girl?" He asked as you entered the house.

"A little." You admitted. "Can we just order in and watch a movie?"

"Of course, baby. You go on upstairs, I'll be up in a minute, okay?"

"Okay," You agreed with a smile and headed up to your room. You worked on getting out of your clothes and taking off your make up before settling into bed and scrolling Netflix.

Rafe took out his phone to order food and call his dad.

W: Hello?

R: Dad, hey.

W: Hey, son. How's Y/n?

R: She's okay. The baby is okay.

W: Good. That's good.

R: Uh, hey dad? The gold is secured right?

W: Yes, son, it is. Why?

R: Ahah..Uhhh I kind of got Y/n a ring today.

W: That's great!

R: Yeah, I'm excited to give it to her, but uh...

W: But what, Rafe?

R: It was kind of....a million dollars.

W: Jesus Christ, Rafe, what the fuck!"

R: Hey a milli isn't that bad now that we have the gold right?!

W: *sigh* Atleast you're marrying rich.

R: I'm not marrying her for money, dad.

W: I know, son. I know. Just, uhh...Yeah. The gold is secured. Just go take care of your fiance and my grandson, okay?

R: On it, dad. I love you.

Rafe hung up the phone and smiled. He walked upstairs to find you in the bathroom, rubbing lotion on your swollen belly while your silky pink pajamas clung loosely to your skin. You were humming softly as you cradled your belly. He leaned his head against the doorframe of the bathroom and smiled as he soaked in your beauty.

"Hey, mamas," He said softly.

You turned to look at him and smiled. He'd never seen such glowing beauty before. Your face was bare, your hair pulled back, there you stood, swollen with his child. It was the most beautiful sight he'd ever laid eyes on. Like a thousand summer sunsets. This was all his. His family. He did everything for you.

"Hi, Rafey," You beamed. You smiled as Rafe stepped behind you and placed his hands on your belly, admiring how much you've grown. "It's funny to think how just a year ago I was the new girl on the island. And now we're about to be a family."

Rafe buried his face in your neck, inhaling your soft scent. "You're a dream come true." He whispered. He slowly removed one hand from your belly and reached into his back pocket. "Do you remember how I asked you to marry me in The Bahamas?"

"How could I forget being proposed to?" You giggled.

"Yeah, well, that's not how I planned to do it."

"Has anything we've ever done gone according to plan?" You chuckled.

"Nope. And I really haven't planned out the rest of our lives yet either."

"Planning isn't for everyone." You reassured him.

Rafe hesitated. He could give you the ring right now. He knew you'd be happy either way. But he paused and thought for a moment. "Are you free this Saturday, my love?"

"Hmmm, I'll have to check my schedule." You teased.

Rafe laughed and picked you up, carrying you to bed. He had ordered some Chinese food but by the time it got there, you were already out. He took out his phone and texted Courtney, Topper, and Kelce.

This Saturday, at the club. Plan a party. I'm going to really propose to her. On the beach. Please help me set it up.

Rafe waited a few minutes before he heard his phone buzz.

We got you.

Rafe had been so weird this week. But not in a bad way. Just very excited about Saturday and you couldn't figure out why.

Rafe was out and Courtney had come over, insisting on helping you get ready. They weren't very good at hiding things. Rafe obviously had a surprise date planned but you played along.

"I think this is the one!" Courtney squealed as she pulled out a deep navy blue, silk dress from your closet. It was a maxi dress that would definitely be blowing in the breeze. A low cut front and long lacey sleeves.

"I'm not sure Wolfie will fit in that." You teased.

"Oh sure he will! Come on!"

You let Courtney work her magic of getting you into the dress and doing your make up. This must be some date Rafe had planned. However, you were happy and excited to see what he had in store for you.

Courtney put the finishing touches on your outfit, including a small tiara that she laced through your hair. "Is all this really necessary?" You asked.

"Yes! You look beautiful!" She said. Her phone chimed and she quickly rushed to check it. "Your ride is here!"

She handed you your bag to match your dress and walked you downstairs. You continued to act oblivious, knowing that one of the guys were here to pick you up and take you to your special date. Once you stepped outside, you did your routine of locking the door and setting the alarm. Courtney walked you to the end of your driveway and you faltered when you took in the site before you.

A horse-drawn carriage sat in the street in front of your house and your fiance stepped out to greet you. "Care for a ride down the beach?" Rafe asked.

You were in awe at the gesture. His slicked back hair and dark navy suit had your knees weak. Courtney handed you off to Rafe and kissed your cheek. "I'll see you later! You two kids have fun!" She said before running off.

Rafe helped you into the carriage and you sat, speechless.

"Rafe..." You began. "Rafe what are we doing?"

Rafe wrapped an arm around you. "Oh, you know, just going on a casual date." He teased.

You didn't question it. You snuggled up to Rafe as the horses made their way to the beach. You listened to the waves crash against the shore and enjoyed the twinkling stars in the sky as you laid on Rafe's lap, enjoying the feeling of his palm against your belly.

Eventually, the horses stopped and you sat up. "Will you join me on the beach for a second?" Rafe asked. You agreed and let him help you out of the carriage. He held you close as you walked down the sand, standing slightly in the water as the waves washed over your feet.

"This is beautiful, Rafe." You told him. "Thank you."

"The night's far from over, my darling." He told you.

You turned to look at him, the moonlight illuminating his features perfectly and you could swear you were melting on the spot at the sight of him, ready for the ocean to take you away.

"I asked you to be my wife on a whim. I truly meant it. I did. But it wasn't what I planned." Rafe began.

You smiled but remained quiet.

"Before I met you, Y/n, I was falling apart. I-I didn't care about anything anymore. Then you came into my life and turned my world upside down. I've never met someone so...insane." He chuckled. "In a good way."

You frowned for a moment, looking back on all the pain you've caused.

"You're the only person I've ever felt true love for. You and our son," He said, placing his hand on your belly once again. "I want to give you the world and so much more."

You smiled up at him, enjoying the breeze in your hair and appreciating the way it messed up his. Rafe reached into his back pocket and slowly got down on one knee.

"I know I already asked..." He began. You took a step back. "But I wanted to do it right. You are God herself, Y/n. I can't live without you. I need you like I need air to breathe. I'm so grateful you chose me and I just want you to know...I'll always choose you. Will you marry me?"

He opened a small black box, revealing a huge diamond. You fought for air for a moment as you took in the sight of it. How did that thing even fit in that tiny box?

"R-Rafe..." You were at a loss for words. "Rafe...what?!"

"Please? Please marry me. I've never been so sure of anything in my life."

You stood speechless for yet another second. "Rafe, yes! Of course I'll marry you!"

The shine of his smile could be seen from outer space. He took your left hand and placed the rock on your finger. You'd never seen such a beautiful piece of jewelry.

"Rafe, you didn't have to-"

"Shut up," He said, standing up and pressing his lips firmly against yours. You kissed him back deeply. You had never been so happy in your life. You could even feel little Wolfie kicking.

You were over the moon about the little family you were creating. Nothing could take this from you.

"Come on, I have one more surprise." Rafe said, leading you back to the carriage and helping you inside. You weren't sure how this night could get more perfect.

You were all over Rafe as the horses took you to your next destination. When you pulled up to the club, you assumed you were about to sit down for a nice dinner. But as you stepped out of the carriage, the sound of cheering patrons led you to believe it was something much bigger.

Rafe helped you out of the carriage and held your left hand up. "She said yes!" He screamed and the whole crowd cheered.

Before you knew it, Courtney was running to you, wrapping you up in a bear hug. "You're getting married, bitch!" She squealed. She was in an entirely new outfit than she was from helping you get ready. You knew she had helped plan this. So did Kelce and Topper by the way they weren't surprised in the slightest, greeting you with warm hugs and praise.

You all walked into the club with smiles on your faces. You clung to Rafe's arm happily knowing that all the people here were supporting the two of you.

"Let me see the ring!" A swarm of women come up to you. You happily showed off the giant rock on your finger.

"Congratulations, you two." Ward said as him and Rose approached you. Rose gave you a hug, Wheezie soon following her as Ward patted Rafe on the back. "Y/n, there's someone here to see you." Ward said, motioning in the direction behind you.

You turned around and your jaw dropped. "D-Dad?"

"Hey, Sunflower," Your dad said softly.

You couldn't help the tears running down your face as you embraced your father in a hug. You hadn't seen him in months and here he was, standing in front of you.

"I can't believe you're here!" You said happily.

"Let's sit, for a second." Your dad said, helping you to an empty table nearby while other guests mingled amongst themselves. You sat back and relaxed, taking a deep breath as you rested your hands on your belly. You realized you hadn't had a moment to breathe in a while. "Look at you," Your dad started.

"Look at me!" You joked.

"A lot happened while I was away."

"Yeah," You sighed. "How do you feel?"

"About you and Rafe? About...this?" He asked, gesturing to your swollen belly. "It's every father's dream and nightmare." He chuckled. "But seeing you this happy...clean and happy. It's great. I see you've been taken care of and that's all I could ever want."

"Thanks, dad." You smiled. "So how was-"

"Rafe Cameron!" You were quickly cut off by Shoupe's voice as he entered the club with two other cops. "You're under arrest for the murder of Sheriff Peterkin!"

Let me know if you'd like to be tagged! :)

@outerbankspov @torturedtypewritersdept

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megumiluvv · 1 day ago

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Choso has noticed these little things with you lately. Just simple things, like how you clean his apartment while Yuji naps, or how you take naps on his couch on particularly boring days. He finds himself subconsciously leaving a blanket out on the couch before he leaves for work, or stacking the pile of dishes in the sink so it’d be easier to manage.

He comes home after a rough day, working one of his umpteen jobs where many customers (who aren’t always right, he finds) yell at him for hours, and sees that you’re asleep on the couch, the dishwasher is going, and dinner has been cooked. Though nothing regarding the dinner has been actually eaten, maybe you were waiting for him to come home? He sets his things down, trying to be quiet and let you sleep, but his keys fall and wake you up with a start.

“Who’s there?” You sit up, sleepiness evident in your voice.

“It’s just me, don’t worry.”

“Gah, I fell asleep,” you mumble and get off the couch, wrapping the blanket around your shoulders.

“That’s alright. Yuji still asleep?”

“Yeah, gotta wake him up…”

“I’ll do it,” Choso says.

“No, you look like you had a rough day, and if I sit down again, I’ll go back to sleep.”

“Didn’t know my couch was that comfortable.”

You laugh and go to wake Yuji, while Choso warms up the food. Yuji clings to you when you exit the boy’s bedroom, Choso can tell he’s been asleep for a while. The kid perks up when he sees food, though, and hops from your arms to the dinner table.

Another little thing Choso has noticed: you always walk certain paths to get somewhere in his apartment. Like taking the left side of the hall to get to Yuji’s room, or going behind the couch to get to the bathroom. Round the corner quickly and dodge the ends of the kitchen island by curling your body the other way. However, sometimes you miss and hit your side, making Yuji giggle and eliciting a groan of pain from yourself.

You sit down, rubbing your side that’s sure to bruise tomorrow, and poke Yuji’s nose playfully. The boy giggles and shoos your hand away, then takes a bite of his food. Choso sits with you two and eats quietly, just observing.

When did this all start to feel so normal? You’re just his neighbor, but you feel like part of the family now. You’ve also gotten used to when Sukuna visits, even combatting the witty remarks with some of your own.

“Choso, chooosoooo, anyone there?” You tease and get his attention.

“Hm?”

“Are ya tired or somethin’? You’ve barely touched your food.”

“Ah, sorry about that.”

“No, it’s alright, just wanna check on you is all.”

“Thank you. I’m alright, just had a long day at work.”

“I see. Go get some sleep, I’ll put Yuji to bed and lock the door on my way out.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I’ve got this. Take care of yourself, Choso.” You smile and place a reassuring hand on his shoulder. Why are you so perfect?

Yuji watches as Choso goes to bed and looks up at you. “He looks at you like how Megumi looks at pretty flowers.”

You would’ve choked on your food if you didn’t swallow two seconds before the boy spoke. “What does that mean, Yu?”

“I dunno, maybe he thinks you’re pretty. I think you are. I’m gonna go put on my pajamas.”

And just like that, the boy disappears, leaving you alone to process the words he said. You eventually snap out of it and clean up, tucking Yuji into bed and making sure he’s asleep before going next door to your apartment. What did Yuji mean by that? Is there a chance he likes you too? You never noticed anything out of the ordinary, so what little thing did Yuji notice?

Masterlist

Taglist (ask to join anytime): @samaraxmorgan @cherriee-ee @auor4 @chaotic-ish @meowsannie

@mediokerrv @flooftoof @dazaisfavgf @mysteriaqueen

#brothers babysitter au #pre-date but really super close to the date if that makes sense :3 #but like #before he asks you out #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk choso #jujutsu kaisen choso #choso #choso fluff #choso x reader #choso x you #jjk choso kamo #choso kamo #choso kamo fluff #choso kamo x reader

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court-jobi · 2 days ago

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Aquarium Date

Pairing: Hawks x reader (gn!reader)

Words: 3.1k

Rating: G~

Warnings: fluff hours, y'all. Mentions of PTSD but nothing deep, dark, mysterious. Just taking care of my sweet, sweet flyboy

Summary:

You've been introducing little spots around the city to Keigo, slowly reintroducing him to the public per his increasing interest. As much as he prided himself on coming up with the best date ideas, you flip the script and come up with a surprise for him today: high time the prince of the skies gets to experience an aquarium for the first time~

A/N: Here's the long-awaited poll result!! it's been a minute, but I've been polishing up some drafts and finally have a breather to begin posting them! (Also started seeing someone which oddly enough cuts into my writing time, oops) But thank you all so much for reading; I've loved reading all the comments and tags!

For my My Hero Academia Masterlist, check it out here!

Read on Ao3

Quilted mornings greet Keigo's weekends now. Every Saturday, he sleeps to his heart's content- or at least until he rolls over with an indulgent stretch to find you already sitting up, nursing some coffee.

This morning, you return your mug back to the side table the moment you catch that telltale creak of his voice trying to wake itself up. It’s a careful move not to spill, but you're also bubbling in anticipation of what's coming next:

Without fail, Keigo will crack open his eyes, fuss against the light, moan how you've moved too far away, and *army-crawls* on his tummy until he can drape an arm across you again. To watch his shoulders work as he moves is still a handsome sight… even without his wings.

As he tries to sneak in a bit more shuteye, you stroke Keigo lightly, wherever you can reach. It's mostly his hair that calls out for your hand’s touch, though as you lay some light scritches down between his shoulder blades, Keigo rustles more. When you stop, he jolts his shoulder up in a nudge.

'More, please.'

"Good morning, GoldenEye~" you greet him.

Laying a groggy kiss to nowhere in particular (just an absent press of the lips on your midsection where he could reach), Keigo trills lazily but with a smile on his face. A wakeful state rests behind still-closed eyes; he talks before willing them open,

"Gmornin', bay’bird.."

Kei's morning voice should come with a warning– if you had no bills to pay or the human need to eat and drink, you'd never leave this bed with him in it like this.

He wrenches a little pout, a scrunch of his shut eyelids, "nnngh.. -wha’ times’it?"

To answer Keigo's drowsy twists and turns under the covers, you pull up the confirmation email on your phone with bidden excitement,

"Right about time for you to start getting yourself ready, babe," you greet softly, "we've got somewhere to be today."

An accented eye finally chances a peek up at you, "-where?"

"It's a surprise~ I'm taking you out. Up for a little adventure?"

"Adventure, huh?" Keigo cracks a smile with teasing interest, groaning into your side as he stretches yet again, "MMMMFH-hhhh.. now what's my baby got in mind f’me, huh?"

You've been introducing little spots around the city to him, slowly reintroducing him to the public per his increasing interest. You were nervous at first, but by Keigo's healthier mental balance between work and play now, you follow his lead and try to make outings fun for him.

Online, you'd come across a locals-only ticketing deal that was too good to pass up and thought to treat him to an excursion he'd likely never gotten to do in grade school... Since when would assassin training allow for field trips like most nine-year-olds get to go on?

Without giving anything away, you merely gave Keigo a small kiss on his forehead and left him confused while you urged him to get up once again. A frisky swat on his butt atop mountains of covers got him into action soon enough, chasing after you with roguish excitement.

“Guess it’s a bit late to ask if I should have changed into a wetsuit?”

“I don’t think you’re supposed to be in the enclosures without permission, Kei. Hero or not!~”

“Cmon, you can’t swim with them?”

“Some folks do, but they get paid to do that! The rest of us get to watch how it’s done.”

“Sheesh, where’s the fun in that?”

Giggling at his ridiculous notion, you find your darling’s interest in the building's flashy backlit signage holds more depth, like he’s reading every word for the first time.

"Y'know, I always passed this place," Keigo emerges from the car, with a set gaze at the fish captured mid-breach, "but never went inside. Couldn't risk the wings getting too wet while on the job, y'know?"

"Thought as much," you rejoin him, pocketing your keys into your coat and all but biting your lip in excitement. "Wanna see?"

"Lead the way, pretty thing~"

So the two of you entered Kyushu's newly renovated aquarium center. It's renown as one of the loveliest in the world with a seven story high observation deck, prized for its integral underground facilities with access directly to the waterways through man-made tunnels and bayfront access. Quirk specialists who bear similar biology to nature's most wonderous aquatic life find their ‘home away from home’ here at the conjoining lab complex, and aid in conservation efforts alongside the scientists.

But out of all the inner workings listed on plaques and donor standees lining the walls of the lobby, Keigo fixates on one feature above all others the minute he steps in the door-

"They have PENGUINS?!"

You mute your giggles, cringing at his unintended echo through the ceramic walls and floors.

Merely nodding, your hush guides him to not make such an outburst again, taking ahold of his bicep and threading your arm through to keep him close.

"Surprise!" You whisper adoringly.

You feel the equivalent of a parent’s pride on Christmas morning, watching Keigo take in a sight like this as if he weren't twenty-plus years older than you were when you first came to visit one.

Unafraid and completely enraptured by the dark halls and den of water ahead, Keigo is stepping out strong with your hand in his, forgetting altogether that this is a paid attraction and he can't just spurt ahead of his own two feet.

A hard habit to break, going too fast for his own good… but your linking of fingers in his softens the sting of having to wait to show your tickets first.

Inside changes Keigo's demeanor entirely. From giddy interest comes a deep, profound quiet he was still very much capable of. You took the lead, enlightening him to all sorts of creatures which -you'd come to learn today- he'd never seen before:

Shrimp were little marvels Keigo had only ever seen sauced up and on a skewer, so to watch them mosey about in their natural state brought a funny tweak of regret to his lips. Jellyfish were the 'roadkill of the beach’, to him. Never before had he seen how big they could get or how beautifully they migrated out in the open ocean. Fish with spikes, eels that glow, creatures with tails longer than their entire bodies, whipping around their cratered homes all set under interchanging lights… it all rendered Keigo nearly speechless.

So speechless, he didn't pay a single mind to a few nearby kids who were whispering to their moms if the man over by your side ‘is who they think it is’...

You'd catch their eyes, mocking a little hush of the lips and sending a wink to their guardians- an unspoken word between you promised to let everyone just explore at their own peace and pace.

These are the beautiful times you are gifted to spend together; now more than ever. While you wish under every star in the sky that Keigo Takami’s newfound free time was not at the expense of his hero work, you are grateful for the perks his rehabilitation period offers you now. In this time of healing, your relationship has flourished; not unlike the sea life around you.

Much like the aquatic life you walk by from enclosure to enclosure, the far-off vision of these sights in the wild remind you that so many beautiful things can exist under the surface of turbulent waves. From the skies, ‘Hawks’ in his larger-than-life glory became drawn to you just over a year ago: rooted to the ground as you were. Now grounded himself, It’s here that -once again- you amaze him with a new perspective, this time sharing marvels with him that exist far under both your feet, under the sea. By his awestruck reactions, you’re proud that you can enlighten him to something he’s never experienced. So many times, you’re so sure that he’s seen it all… but you still manage to surprise him.

As he rightfully deserves. You’d give Keigo the world if you could.

Though for now, his complete joy seems to stem from checking out the baby penguins, half covered in the fuzz of their infant downy feathers. For a split second, your chest pangs when he makes an offhand comment about how they’re just like him, flightless. But Kei settles any subtle concern you hold, because his laughter is far to giddy for you to worry that he’s self conscious.

Had you not known what horrors and traumas he’s gone through with his quirk, you’d think this is the funniest sight to see a grown man revert to child-like excitement. But now, it means so much more to see him so happy and carefree.

It’s not that you’re desensitized to such creatures, mind you! While you’d been taking candid photos of Keigo for your own private collection, a couple birds suddenly squawked an internal debate, demanding the attention of you both. It’s clear a race had been cast, because the penguins then slid right onto their bellies to a quick, friendly speedrun to the bottom of the slicked, icy slide into the water. When one emerged from the pool ‘laughing’, Keigo wheezed and started a cheeky round of applause for all bystanders to join in on.

Birds of a feather, you assume, and they love a good race– whether in the air or not, I guess!

"Can we-- maybe go back again?” Keigo paused before you could veer off to one of the last passageways before the end of the museum, “Wanted to see something again ‘fore we get to far ahead."

So you backtrack through the exhibits, and return to ‘The Great Room’.

At his lead, you're back at the tank the resident whale shark calls home, but you're caught off guard by where he chooses to settle– watching Keigo walk right up by the glass- not quite a foot away. In the middle of the feature wall, sitting down criss-crossed, the man you’ve loved in and out of the spotlight makes himself the whale shark's newest neighbor, smack dab on the floor.

Five-year-old Keigo has arrived, and your heart could break at the sight.

Looking over his shoulder for you, he's got a boyish look on his face that's a little hard to read. By his posture, he's relaxed as ever, but a hidden story sits behind his eyes like a mist. His scar pales into the rest of his cheek under all these watery refractions of light, to the point where you forget for a moment it's there.

At his pat on the ground, you mirror his seating arrangement and join him. No one else is in the room at this moment, but even if it were jam packed with chiding eyes around you both, you'd never refuse him.

Keigo looks back up through the glass when you curl up next to him- staring off everywhere and nowhere at once. For once, a lost look across his face doesn't make him look haunted. He's just overcome.

"I feel... small."

"Small?" you ask.

"Mhm. But in a good way," he follows the third lap of a long, spotted fish, surrounded by the tiniest minnows in a cloud around it. "It's different when you're down low, when you've always seen things from up top."

The perspective he holds has been completely inverted. You worried this was a hurt he likely carried around unspoken: not being able to fly.

"They probably think waves are like the sky to them," Keigo looks up to where he sees the residual bubbles of all the wildlife rising to the surface. The light and the overlook banisters above casting their shadows highlights the tiny pockets of air, “n’to think like that card back there said, you can’t even see the surface when you’re on the bottom of the actual ocean floor. This is– just incredible.”

You’re glad to see him so happy, to have given him something new to discover.

Keigo is quiet for a while, until he grows softer still in his normally unwavering voice. Seems now he’s not just found his ‘inside voice’, but the one he keeps special just for you.

“Yknow that feeling where you gotta scratch your eye, but no matter how many times you try, the itch is still there?”

You follow, with a hum.

“That’s how it feels sometimes.” Keigo doesn’t look at you, but you can read his wistfulness through the first panes of glass in front of him. “I don’t necessarily think of it every minute of every day… but man. When it itches, it really itches. And nothing settles it.”

You rarely bring the war up on your own– reminding Keigo of such fresh events would be cruel, you thought. You only respond with your thoughts whenever he asks for them in a formal, work-related capacity, but you know it’s affected him in every way regardless of how quickly he appeared to bounce back. It’s also a sensation you’d never have an equivalent to share with him. In terms of support, you often weren’t always sure what to say to console him on the days he appeared the most down; it’s not that you could ever truly relate.

Robbed of his quirk– robbed of the air. To feel as weightless as the creatures in the water, unbound by gravity.

“But these guys–” Keigo looks up again with a smirk, “--they don’t even gotta worry about things like blinking. And anytime they get caught by some seaweed or something- look how the others take care of ‘em. Look how happy they are.”

You seek out the pod of fish he’s been tracking. Expert eyes, he’s still lightyears ahead on you with his eagle eyes. They are far away now, murky due to distance from the foreground…

…it’s not about the fish anymore.

It’s about his healing. Finding his place in the world. Keigo feels like a fish out of water, now– even in his new role as President of the Hero Public Safety Commission, but he’s confessing a key part of his journey now: the after, and how it’s maybe not so far away as you expected.

It took Keigo a while to sleep shirtless around you, after everything. It was physically hard to do so, first of all… but more than practically, the act of baring himself in any way was tender in more ways than that of newly supple skin. He’d grown used to his entire torso being wrapped up for so long… his true emotions concealed and lying deeper still.

Even longer, he spent a month wearing constant compression -like a tight fitting bodyglove or even a too-small hoodie- as it was more comfortable than strutting around bare-chested as he once did. Healing was more of a never-ending action plan, rather than a passive point of rest like most would picture. There were therapies and tinctures and salves and appointments that all guided a former hero like him back into a state of truly feeling better and treated as a normal member of society- civilian.

That title, still so strange to him. Alien. Another reason he’d wanted to keep layers on while he accepts his own skin. Over midafternoon tea one day, Keigo had grumbled on a grim day that he’d worried he’d never be considered ‘normal’, even if he completely healed; that some wounds were too deep and he’d never be seen as anything other than a hero- even a failed one.

However, the page turned one day- Keigo coming to you quickly after getting out of a shower to snuggle up to your figure washing the dishes. The telltale warmth of his chest hit the back of your shoulders, same as the arms which wrapped around you snug and close. Kisses along your neck served to try and distract you from your tasks, but the bigger surprise remained how vulnerable he stood behind you: he was shirtless once again.

The thought made you smile, your darling love finally embracing you in a fully relaxed state... Content, happy- or at the very least assured enough to turn you around, begging softly for some more kisses in that saucy way, and sheepishly requesting a backrub 'like you used to'.

Maybe it was healing for you as well, getting the chance to cover Keigo in restorative love. It's always been a source of pride for you, and served to give you connection in ways the rest of the world didn't see– a place to put your care and attention in new ways for the man who gives his all to everyone else.

He's still so beautiful, like this. He's got spark to his chatty tongue again, a lift to his cheeks, and lingers for your every touch, melting on the spot even without a single feather to hint at how he feels. He doesn't need them; his eyes do all the talking for him.

You'd always care for the hero inside him- those instincts will never die, truly. Hawks' brilliance lives through his natural leadership and street-savvy command as head of the HPSC… But to nurture the sleepy, tired boy who is still finding his feet on the ground, who works every day to make the world a better place than the one he was brought into, and who missed out on so much… he’s your top priority.

You sink onto his shoulder, met by his craning atop yours. Though the reflection of the glass, Keigo doesn’t look at you, but bears the most content smile while resting with you, sneaking your hand and twisting the pretty rings adorned on it. He’d gifted you most of these, anyhow.

"They're sure not in any rush,” Keigo coos after the floating, drifting life ahead of him.

The swarms of sea life, ebb and flow of plant life, and the simulated tides created all washes over you two in quiet beauty. The way each group of fish move in their own current is the most relaxing sight and -yes- drifts along at an unhurried pace.

You hum your agreement.

"Slowing down's not such a bad thing, huh."

"No, not at all."

Eventually distracted by your own lazy watching, you check on Keigo again as he’d turned his head to kiss your temple while still entranced by the aquarium. In a soft voice, he asks with a pining whisper,

“How long we got in here, sweet’eart?”

“I think it closes at four today~” you share, but make the mental note to upgrade your passes to the annual membership before you leave…

#keigo takami #hawks #mha hawks #bnha hawks #keigo x reader #keigo takami x reader #hawks x reader #mha fanfiction #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #mha x reader #bnha x reader #mha #bnha #hawks fluff #keigo fluff #post war arc #post war hawks

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koji-haru · 2 days ago

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Sweet Dreams, Adam

[Perfect combo with this.]

The kiss of the early sun had never been kinder, the hug of the morning breeze never been softer, the songs of the waking birds never been sweeter, and before Adam knew it, he had awoken back in paradise.

Everything was as he had remembered; flora that remained evergreen, never knowing the concept of decay; animals in playful harmony, the spilling of blood never crossing their thoughts; waters so clear and crisp, untouched by the filth and grime of the quotidian earthly life; and food so fresh and abundant that the humans of the garden never knew of hunger and hardship. As soon as Adam began to move, he felt a familiar weight on his back, one that had journeyed with him for over countless millennia – his beautifully golden wings. A confirmatory hand reached over to the top of his head, and he was right, a cool ring floated above his head – his halo. And now that he had finally fully got his bearings did he realise that he was wearing robes, white and gold and lilac, one he normally wore on the daily. Loose robes, a glowing halo and large golden wings, Adam wasn’t a human in the garden anymore, he was an angel.

No matter how hard he tried, searching every nook and cranny of his brain, no memory prior to this arrived in Adam’s mind. Nothing at all, not even a hint as to how he managed to return to Eden. Adam looked around the garden, despite the life teeming freely in here, it also seemed so empty and quiet; missing the loudly cheerful voices that used to freely roam and explore everything their soft, unmarred hands could reach and touch. Where was Eve? Her striking appearance was not something to be easily missed, nor her loud exuberance. Or Lilith, who often sought places such as this in the garden, where everything was still and calm. It was as if the garden was empty; not even a sign of odd temporary creations, colourful magics or the tune of a fast paced instrument. Even he didn’t seem to be here.

Or at the moment he wasn’t anyway. Because as soon as Adam decided to get up and explore this oddly empty garden, a voice called out to him with a cheer that hadn’t been directed to him in an uncountable amount of time.

“Adam!!” A cheerful voice and a speedy fluttering of white and red was all the warning Adam got before he got captured in a tight and excited hug, pushing him back down to sit on the grass. “I missed you so much!! Sorry I haven’t been around lately.”

Lucifer hugged and nuzzled what he then believed was the most perfect creation of God, his top hat forgotten on the grass. Only when he finally pulled back did he notice something was amiss with his human. Confusion immediately formed in his features in the shape of furrowed brows and a tilt of his head. He blinked once, then twice, then thrice letting go of the grip he had on Adam’s shoulders briefly before grasping onto them once more, even tighter this time as his ruby eyes widened with both surprise and amazement. “Adam!! Since when did you become an angel?!”

It had been so long since Lucifer had behaved this way towards Adam that could only find himself stunned into silence as the playful angel eagerly examined his supposedly ‘new appearance’. Touching his halo, feeling his wings, even examining the fabrics of his robe, before moving onto his face, turning his head side to side, absorbing every new detail.

Lucifer gently ran his thumb just under Adam’s eyes, a soft smile playing on his lips. “Your eyes are still as pretty as when you first opened them.”

It was then that Adam unfroze from his stupor and pushed the smaller angel away from, the curious touches a softly painful wake up call to the life he had led after the garden. “Don’t touch me like that, I don’t like it,” he mumbled out, a slight frown on his face.

Lucifer looked hurt at Adam’s rejection of him, and a part of Adam wanted to comfort him, say he was sorry and that he didn’t mean it, but Lucifer’s presence itself already felt like a stab in his heart, salt in a festering wound that simply refused to heal. And so, he kept his words to himself lest he would end up saying things he couldn’t take back.

“Sorry,” apologised Lucifer, still trying to keep his smile, though it was faltering. “So. You’re an angel now, huh? How did that happen? Wow…,” he chuckled nervously, afraid that Adam, who was now part of Heaven, had also begun to dislike him.

Adam wasn’t sure what compelled him to answer somewhat truthfully, but he did so without a second thought. “I lived a full life outside the garden, died and then became an angel.” He turned to fully face Lucifer, holding his gaze. “That’s all.”

“Um…but I visited you just two sunsets ago??,” asked Lucifer with a confused smile. “Your life couldn’t have gone that quickly.”

“Why do you even care?,” Adam groaned, annoyed at the perceived pretence of care. He remembered all those times when Lucifer would apologise to him for being ‘too busy’ to play with him only to find him spending all his time with Lilith. It hurt Adam a lot, but what hurt more was the fact that Lucifer couldn’t even be honest with him. He could take rejection, he could accept the truth, just not betrayal. “Shouldn’t you be with Lilith anyway?”

“Lilith? Who’s that?”

“Quit fucking with me,” Adam hissed.

“I– Huh? I don’t really understand…” Lucifer sat back on his heels, timidly twiddling with his fingers as he looked randomly all over the grass, eyes avoiding Adam’s. A heavy sadness weighed on his chest as he slowly began to accept the fact that the only person who seemed to like him and his ideas now disliked him too. “...sorry, I–”

“I don’t hate you, okay?,” Adam quickly cut in once he realised this was truly his best friend, still untainted by betrayal and lies. The one he shared his happiest memories with, the one he wished he could have spent eternity with, his unattainable dream. “Life just hasn't been so easy. Sorry.”

A small smile returned on Lucifer’s lips, as he breathed out a small sigh of relief knowing that Adam didn’t hate him. He moved closer and sat beside Adam, a comforting hand on his shoulder. He, too, had hard days; Heaven wasn’t always welcoming of strange new ideas, and the feeling of isolation in a place full of people simply struck especially painfully. “You can spill your feelings out to me if you want.”

“I…I’ve made so many mistakes.” Adam looked down, tears threatening to form in his eyes. Something about returning to the very beginning, when things were simpler and nothing was wrong, brought out the sensitivities he had long killed and buried deep within him. It came back in rushing waves, ready to overwhelm him with memories of what used to be, and projections of what could’ve been. Nostalgia and pain swirling and mixing together into a messy concoction that wore down the walls he had painstakingly built throughout the millennia. “And so many things I can’t ever get back to…”

Suddenly, a softness with all the care in the world wrapped around him – six wings, two slender hands, and eyes that held him ever so tenderly. “But you’ve made it, right? Look, you’re an angel! Just like me!”

And then the dam broke. Tears flowed down heavily from Adam’s eyes, years of buried pain and regrets gushing out in uncontrollable waves. “I just missed you so much..!,” he cried, hugging Lucifer tightly back, afraid to ever let go for fear that he would lose him again. “When you left…I wasn’t sure if I wanted to continue anymore…”

“Oh Adam…,” Lucifer cooed, lifting Adam’s face up to try and wipe his tears away.

“Without you…life was just so much more difficult..!,” Adam continued to sob, letting all of his pain out.

“Ssshh, I’m here now,” whispered Lucifer as he placed a gentle kiss on Adam’s forehead. “I won’t leave you,” he promised while cupping Adam’s face, sincere devotion in his eyes.

Adam kept his words to himself, knowing the true hollowness of that promise, but for now, he decided to turn a blind eye to that so that he could bask in this comfort, temporary as it may be. Because as of now, it wasn’t a lie, not when it was still the two of them together.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there when you needed me,” Lucifer continued. “But I’m proud of you for staying so strong. I can’t imagine how difficult it must’ve been.”

“You could never…,” Adam whimpered, half replying to what Lucifer said, half implying something else.

…

The pinkish rays of Heaven’s first rays filtered through the curtains of Adam’s room, no kind kiss from it; nor was there a soft hug from the morning breeze blocked by glass panes; the early birds sang a song that brought nothing but a buzzing background noise; and before Adam knew it, he had awoken back in Heaven face wet with things that he wished could’ve been.

“You could never…”

---

[I told you it would happen again @twost3ps, so this was somewhat a reverse of the previous one.]

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel adam #hazbin adam #hazbin hotel lucifer #adamsapple #lucifer x adam #🍎🎸#short and sweet 2.0 :)

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thytaenic · 15 hours ago

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⊹˚︵‿₊˚ʚɞ˚₊‿︵˚⊹ ʚɞ ～ ❝ 𝐬𝐨 𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐡 𝐬𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐥 ❞ ╰‧₊˚ haikyuu : akaashi keiji x f!reader

╰‧₊˚ not proofread ! disregard my grammar error

"i think we should break up."

"keiji, w-wait.."

"WAIT!" your body jolted up, an arm stretched out as if you're trying to grab onto nothing. you were awakened from the dream you just had, sweating and breathing heavily. your eyes started to scan the room you're currently in, still breathing heavily. you noticed the room layout; it is indeed your room. a heavy sigh escaped your mouth as you replayed the dream over and over again like a video tape of a bad memory, constantly on loop and hunting you. it's not the first time you've dreamed of the same situation and it seemed to be engraved into your mind ever since the day it happened.

right when you were about to pull the comforter over your body, you heard a soft knock on the door of the room. fear started to engulf you as you recalled, you've been living alone for almost a year so who could that be? and at 2 am that is. suddenly, the door knob was turned and the door was pushed, revealing a silhouette of a familiar figure.

"i went to grab a glass of water, did i wake you up?"

you weren't sure how to react to the sudden reveal. it was none other than your friend, Akaashi Keiji. but he looked different, way more matured to be exact. questions filled your mind, what is he doing here? how did he get here? what is happening?

"k-keiji .." you muttered, eyes nailed to the male with a glass of water in his hand. "w-what are you doing here?"

he looked at you weirdly, but then a smile appeared on his face that you've missed so much. for years you've been waiting for his return after he left to further his studies. he walked closer to you, closing the gap between the two of you as he sat next to you on the bed, handling you the glass of water to which you gladly took.

"nightmares again? you really should stop watching horror movies before bed time, love." he chuckled, his hands now slowly making their way to yours, slowly and gently holding yours in his.

you're more than confused at his answer. love? you felt overwhelmed by the current situation as you felt a stream of tears rolled down your cold cheek. you wanted an explanation from him, you wanted more than just his presence there to soothe the stabbing pain in your heart. and so you bravely asked him.

"keiji, i don't understand. why are you here? a-and why are you in my room?" you bombarded him with questions, getting frustrated at the amount of unanswered questions in your throbbing head. you clenched your fist at your frustration and your sob grew louder as your head hung low.

akaashi was taken aback by your sudden outburst. he didn't know what has gotten into you. but he remained calm, his thumb caressing your clenched fist. this is all so wrong, you thought.

you raised your head only to meet his confused expression, probably not understanding why're you acting so weird. you had realised that your sudden tantrum put him in a position where he's questioning your sanity.

"y/n, i think you should sleep first." he tried to calm you down, gently pushing you to lie down but you remained frozen.

"but keiji , where are you going to sleep?" you hesitantly asked.

again, he was confused. he didn't know why were you so clueless considering that he remembered how you were completely fine before you went to bed. "what do you mean 'where'? of course i'll sleep next to my wife right here."

"h-huh..?"

your pace quickened when you noticed that you're running late to class. 10 more minutes before class and you're still on your way walking to the school.

"come on, come on. why are there so many cars today?" you cursed out, frantically tapping your feet on the ground.

not long after that, you felt a sudden gush of wind washed all over you. you glanced to your left side and your eyes met with a teenager on his bike trying to catch his breath from possibly the frantic cycling he just did.

"akaashi?!" you exclaimed.

the male turned his head to face you. his tie hung loose with the first two buttons of his shirt were left unbuttoned. you couldn't help but admire the sight before you, how his sweaty hair swung effortlessly from side to side and that good-looking face. who would've thought your childhood friend is actually a handsome young man despite his nonchalant side. but akaashi looked distressed, and in a hurry for sure.

"y/n? why are you still here?"

"seriously, that's your concern? you should look at yourself."

his eyes dropped to take a look at what you mentioned but he only sighed. he raised his hand and his watch stated '8.26'. that's 3 more minutes before the morning bell rings.

"get on."

"w-what?"

"i said get on, we're running late." he pulled your arm to the back of his bike to signal you to get on. and so you put your bag onto the empty seat behind him before sitting on the bag.

"just so you know, this is my first time ri- AAAA!" you were adjusting yourself to sit comfortably so you won't fall when he started cycling later, but that didn't really work when he suddenly sped up, causing you to quickly hug him from behind, holding onto your dearest life.

akaashi's smile turned into a smirk, one hand stayed on the handle while the other grabbed yours which were tightly wrapped around his torso. he didn't say anything but his gesture of caressing his thumb onto your forehand somehow reassured you that you'll make it before the bell rung.

soon after that, the two of you arrived exactly before the bell rung as you waited for him to parked his bike under the roofed area. you were about to leave to your class when you felt a strong grip around your wrist and you turned around to see akaashi smiling at you. your cheeks grew warmer when his face was just inches from yours, causing you to look away to avoid his gaze.

"see me after class?" you didn't get to answer when he suddenly walked past you, leaving a trail of his strong cologne lingered. from far, you can see him being dragged into the school entrance.

it's not the first time he had said that to you but these days, the two of you had been exchanging 'overfriendly' remarks. one that is not normally said between friends. it even sparked some rumours among his volleyball teams. but you've known him for years, even since the two of you were still in diapers. of course this was nothing more than just a normal friend hangout. or so you thought.

part 1 , part 2 , part 3

author's note : hello , i've nothing to say . but i hope youre enjoying this short series of my first haikyuu fic ! will update part 2 asap . feel free to reach me out at the chat section

#haikyuu #haikyuu fanfiction #akaashi #akaashi keiji #akaashi x reader #haikyuu x reader #miellefinds #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu x female reader

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abarbaricyalp · 1 day ago

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Hi! Mini fic ask: SamBucky #12?

Hi!!! From this prompt list

I feel like we could all use a lot of sappy nonsense right now.

12: Things you say when you think I'm asleep

When Sam was a boy, he used to lay in his parents' bed in the morning, milking out ten extra minutes of sleep until the bathroom was open for him to get ready, and he'd listen to them get their day started. They'd share hushed conversations, pretending not to know he had snuck under the blankets, or just get ready in comfortable silence. He still found the glow of low-light through a half open door more comforting than anything else. The smell of his daddy's aftershave and his mama's perfume was a better wake up call than good coffee. He still had a bottle of each in his medicine cabinet.

It was something he missed, even into adulthood. He'd lived alone most of his grown life (the time spent not on a base) and even when he had family around, he was usually the first one up in the morning. There was no one to listen to patter around in the bathroom, run the shower for too long to use the steam as a pseudo-heater, spritz hair product and deodorant.

Bucky, though, tended to come in late. He always showered, if he'd been outside, and he still had pre-bed rituals he had to work through no matter what time it was. He used aftershave very particularly. He dressed in the bedroom instead of the bathroom. He laid out whatever watch or necklace he'd been wearing earlier on the dresser.

Sam watched him through his lashes, trying not to open his eyes. He listened to Bucky curse under his breath when the water was always too hot, and counted the number of seconds between him opening his shaving cream can and then closing it.

The bathroom's light was just as warm now as it had been and Bucky kept the door half shut, just like Sam's parents had. Aside from his shampoo and aftershave, there was no strong smell to follow him out, but Sam didn't mind. Bucky getting in the bed, shower warm and a little damp, was a good replacement.

Bucky ought to be able to tell when Sam was awake, but he never really seemed to. Maybe Sam had just become too good at keeping his breathing and heartrate even. Maybe Bucky was telling the truth when he said he tried not to listen in on Sam like that. (Sam kind of didn't believe it)

So Bucky got into the bed and turned off the lights and curled himself against Sam's back, took his hand and held it against Sam's chest, and began to talk. Every night.

Some nights it was nothing. What he was going to write in his debrief. What he'd seen while he was sitting on the porch. The sale at the grocery store.

And sometimes it was everything.

"I love you," he said against Sam's shoulder, pressing a kiss to a cluster of freckles there. Sam had to fight down the goosebumps he got every time Bucky said it. That would definitely give him away. "I missed you. I dunno how we used to go six, seven, eight months without seeing each other. My fault, I guess. But you weren't a very good seeker either, y'know."

Well, now he was just saying things on purpose to get a rise out of Sam.

He traced his fingers blindly across the center of Sam's chest, following the line of his pectorals and the familiar spread of Sam's birthmarks to guide himself.

"Read something the other day that said birthmarks were where you'd been most kissed in a past life," he said suddenly. "And I'm gonna keep these birthmarks right where they are in your next life. And the one after that and the ones after that too. Gonna find you and keep kissing you right over your heart and across your shoulders and under your eye. I know every version of me is gonna love them.

"And I hope the next time I'm kissing all these same spots, fate is a little kinder to us. I hope there's not so much blood and fear. Maybe a dog. Gotta keep the cats, too. I hope in that world, we go to bed at the same time. And when we don't, it's because you're up too late tinkering on something or I wanted to watch a baseball game and you didn't. And I know you'll still wake up too early to go running, but maybe there are more mornings where I get to wake you up with kisses and you complain about my morning breath.

"I hope I find you sooner too. I kind of hate that I had a whole lifetime--two whole lifetimes--without you. I don't want to waste time next time. I wanna love you for as long as I can, as soon as possible. I wanna skin our hands and knees on the playground together. I wanna take you to crappy high school dances. I wanna make out and break up and make up in your first car. The truck has to come with us, in this life. I wanna move into an apartment together and fight about bills when the broken AC floods the whole place. I wanna propose to you and actually be able to marry you. Grow old together and put those rocking chairs you still haven't fixed out on the porch so we can watch the thunderstorms even when our knees don't work anymore.

"But mostly, I wanna make sure this little constellation of freckles, and all the other ones, make it into your next life too."

He kissed the back of Sam's shoulder again and Sam couldn't stop himself from shivering. Surely Bucky could feel the racing of his heart anyway. He must've known Sam was awake by then.

He didn't mention it, though. He kept pressing kisses along Sam's shoulders and up his neck, taking his time and roaming. His fingers curled around Sam's again, and Sam could feel his heartbeat in them. His pulse was racing too.

"Anyway," he said after a few quiet moments of shared touch, "Kate accidentally hit Yelena in the face today and I think the whole entire world stopped breathing while we all waited to see what she'd do."

He launched into a story about whatever they'd been doing. Some mock training that had gone off the rails. Sam’s heart still raced, but the sound of Bucky's voice and the warmth of his body slowly pulled him down until he actually fell asleep.

In the morning, when he woke to their position reversed and the back of Bucky's neck bare in front of him (all of Bucky's hair was sprawled across Sam's pillow instead) he mapped out the faint edges of a wine stain birthmark that peeked out from his hairline. He touched his fingers to it, making Bucky mumble and shift in his sleep. Then he leaned forward and kissed it gently.

This, too, would follow them into their next life.

#sambucky #sam wilson #bucky barnes #i answer things #the falcon and the winter soldier #sambucky fanfic #captain america

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hywonuka · 2 days ago

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lost all my dignity | jww

every step that i take is a mistake to you, chapter 2

Sypnosis: 2 weeks into the dare and Wonwoo feels like he has made no progress, but he doesn’t pressure himself. After all, he has time. Or at least that’s what he thought, as someone new comes on the scene.

Pairing: college!wonwoo x college!fem!reader

Genre: college au, falling for a bet or dare trope, slow burn

Warnings: cursing, jealous wonwoo

Word count: 1.8K

chapter 1 | chapter 2 | chapter 3

Cold January mornings were one of Wonwoo’s biggest enemies. Waking up early on a cold January morning was his biggest enemy. Make it even worse by waking up early on Sunday, but he couldn’t say no to Jeonghan whenever he called him to eat breakfast together. Even if it meant leaving the comfort of his bed, he couldn’t ditch one of his closest friends, so he got up and picked up some of his warmest clothes, as he has a busy day today. He wasn’t only meeting up with Jeonghan for breakfast, but also for tutoring some junior student and, after lunch, he was meeting up with Y/N. He froze as he remembered that.

The task given to them wasn’t the most difficult, but it required a lot of work. Y/N thought of displaying some of the Art and Design students artwork, and needed screens for that. But she also needed everything to be perfect, as she had insisted to Wonwoo. There were also some Dramatic Art’s students that wanted to do a performance, which required the need of a computer engineer and, of course, Wonwoo was asked to do it.

He sighed as he left his dorm room, carrying all what he needed for today in his backpack. At least he would get to spend some time with Y/N, which he needed. It has already been 2 weeks of the dare, and he has made no improvement. He can’t afford losing against Wonwoo, not when his dignity was in game.

“You seem pretty lost in thought” Jeonghan pointed out, as he took a sip of his dark coffee. “Have a lot on mind lately”.

“Is it about the open day stuff?? It’s at the beginning of March, I don’t even know why she is so eager on getting stuff done now”

“She said something about the Dramatic Art’s students needing to practice for their performance or something like that”. The tallest one said, taking a bite of his chocolate croissant. It’s not like he minded , after all it benefits him, and he also liked helping her.

“Damn…” Wonwoo looked at the blonde guy suspiciously. He knew his friend and knew there was something behind that damn.

“What is it?”

“Nothing”

“Liar” Jeonghan shrugged his shoulders, laughing, which made Wonwoo wonder what did his friend have in mind, but he couldn’t ask, as Vernon suddenly appeared and took a seat next to him. The youngest one smiled at his friends and took a bite of Wonwoo��s breakfast.

“Morning fellas” He said, munching the piece of croissant he stole from the one with glasses. “Hmmm, dark chocolate, great choice Wonwoo”

“I didn’t give you permission to eat my food, idiot” The youngest one stuck his tongue at Wonwoo, while Jeonghan laughed at them.

“Well, well, Vernon, do you happen to have any plans today?”

“Not really, today is my day off, why?”

“Would you come to the cinema with me? I proposed it to Wonwoo, but he is busy with some lady” Wonwoo rolled his eyes. Of course, Vernon smirked when he listened to that, and decided to tease Wonwoo.

“Oooh, are you finally overcoming your fear of women?? Will you ask her out, huh?” The tallest one looked at his friend, serious. He wanted to slap him. How could he ask her out if he can’t even make small talk without freaking out?

“Vernon, behave. You shouldn’t tease him that much, c’mon, he might finally lose his virginity!!” As those words escaped Jeonghan’s mouth, both him and Vernon started laughing loudly, driving all the attention to their table, while Wonwoo could feel his cheeks turning red. Why did they have to keep mentioning that, for God’s sake!!

Before he could speak up, the sudden entrance of two people at the cafeteria made him shut down. It was Y/N and… Chan.

From the last weeks, Wonwoo had learnt that they both were really close, something he didn’t like. At all. He couldn’t explain why it bothered him so much, it just bothered him. Vernon and Jeonghan noticed the change of demeanour of his friend, and quickly discovered why.

“Scared you are gonna lose because she already has a boyfriend?” Vernon whispered, unable to Jeonghan to listen. Wonwoo threw his napkin at him. He didn’t want to admit it, but the thought of her and Chan dating made him feel uneasy.

꩜ ‧.°. 𖦹.°.‧ ꩜‧.°.𖦹 .°.‧꩜ ‧.°. 𖦹.°.‧ ꩜‧.°.𖦹 .°.‧꩜ ‧.°. 𖦹.

The day passed by pretty quickly, and now Wonwoo found himself in the Art and Design faculty building, looking for Y/N and getting whatever she had on mind done. He had a hard time tutoring today, and wasn’t in the mood of doing anything at all. So, when he finally found her, laughing along with Chan (God, did he know the concept of personal space?), his face completely changed. He was annoyed, but only because he didn’t want to lose that dare.

“Oh, hi Wonu!” Wonwoo faked a smile at the nickname Y/N had picked for him. She thought it was cute and fitted him. He wouldn’t say he secretly enjoyed when she said that. “Hey, you two. Why is he here?”

“Wonu, this is Chan, one of Dramatic Art former students. Chan, this is Wonu, he is in charge of all the electronic part”

Wonwoo already knew Chan. He met the short blonde guy at some Jeonghan’s party a couple years ago. He even remembers he was accompanying her. Maybe they have been secretly dating since then?

“It's a pleasure” The tall one said, shaking hands with the other guy. “The pleasure is mine”

“Chan will be joining us today with the preparations!! He takes part in the performance, so i thought it would be nice if he was around, telling us how to display the screens better”

So he was there basically to do part of his job? Great, what a way to finish the day. This only made things worse, how is he even gonna dare to break a couple just for a stupid bet?! He was better than that.

He needed to know if it was just the voices in his head or if they were both truly dating, so he did what a normal person would do: ask someone else.

[wonwoo]: hey hao

[wonwoo]: can i ask u smth?

He waited, as he pretended to be connecting some wires to his laptop. God, what was taking his friend so long?!

[minghao psycho]: sure

God, finally. Wonwoo looked around, making sure both of them were busy doing whatever.

[wonwoo]: are y/n and chan dating????

He could see his friend typing. Oh, great, he can see it coming. Minghao was gonna scold him for not caring if she was already with someone else earlier.

[minghao psycho]: not that im aware

[minghao psycho]: but they are hella close

[wonwoo]: thx man

Wonwoo sighed. Well, Minghao didn’t scold him, that was something good. He was about to put his phone in his back pocket, when a sudden vibration made him look again. It was Minghao. Okay, now he was fucked up.

[minghao psycho]: honestly i cant believe you are asking this NOW and to ME like wtf??? you have been 2 weeks onto this dare and you only care bout her relationship status when you realize she might be taken?? and not only that, you come ask me?? im not even close to them dude

[wonwoo]: ur girl is

[minghao psycho]: im not asher

[minghao psycho]: hope they are actually dating so you feel bad bout attempting to break a couple

[minghao psycho]: was about to type breaking as if you actually could lmao

Wonwoo was tempted to block Minghao. God, yeah, he was wrong about the whole dare thing, but he was drunk and didn’t think straight when he accepted, and now it’s not like he could back out and pretend it never happened. He had to win this. His pride was in game at this point.

He looked back at Chan and Y/N. They were focused on their conversation, acting touchy and laughing with each other. The sight of them together made him want to throw up. He had to do something. No, he needed to do something.

He took a long breath, mentally preparing himself for what he was about to do. He finished connecting all the wires, and walked straight where Chan and Y/N were talking. The blonde guy was doing some sort of dance, that made her laugh. He truly couldn’t stand the sight of it, so he approached them with quicker steps. He was about to call out her name, when he stepped onto his shoelaces and felt himself falling down. He would have completely fallen onto the floor if it wasn’t due to a strong arm holding him.

“Dude, everything is okay?” Chan asked, still holding Wonwoo in his arms, who was completely red. He has made a complete fool of himself, and the worst part is that he couldn’t see a thing.

“Fuck, my glasses…” The tallest one whispered, cursing under his breath. The frame of his glasses were broken in half. Great, those had been expensive, and now he has to pay again for them to get repaired. He couldn’t even look for them, as Chan kept him in his embrace, and it’s not like he could actually see them.

“Wonu, are you okay?” Fuck, he also has humiliated himself in front of her.

“Y-yeah, I’m fine…”

“Let me fix your glasses”

“Huh? There is no need, Y/N, it’s… fine”

“Don’t be stupid, Wonu. I’ll fix it… Gimme a sec”

“She is really good with her hands, she will fix them” What did Chan just say?! Wonwoo felt his face turning completely red, he really hoped none of them noticed… Wait, how did Chan know that? No way. They were actually dating.

He didn’t notice when the shorter one stopped grabbing him, or when she left looking for adhesive tape. He was way too lost in thought for that. He couldn’t focus on anything else, not now that he saw clearly that Chan and Y/N were together. Why did it hurt so badly? It was just a stupid dare, he had no reason to feel that way.

“Are you fine?” Chan’s voice brought Wonwoo to reality. He hated that guy now.

“Yeah, I am. Thanks for catching me” He might hate him, but he wasn’t rude.

“It’s nothing…”

Silence. Great, what Wonwoo needed right now, a tense atmosphere. He wanted to leave and hide under his blanket. He could feel Chan’s eyes on him, but completely ignored it. He would blame it on his poor eyesight and the lack of his glasses if the other guy ever mentioned it.

After a couple minutes, that felt like hours, she returned with his glasses taped. She gave them to him, who looked at his glasses with a hint of sadness.

“It’s the best I could do…”

“Don’t worry Y/N, it’s not your fault… Thanks…” He said, shyly smiling at him. God, he couldn’t wait for this awful day to end.

A/N: i wanted to have this done for sunday but uni is absolutely killing me TT i rlly hope i can get to write next chapter soon cuz its one of my relax moments hehe… anyways, any thoughts on chan and y/n relationship and how it can affect wonwoo?? hehehe anyways hope yall like im gonna get some rest mwaks

Taglist: @adonisbtch @mydearhangel @wonvsmile @wonuilu @peachyaeger @minwonwoozi @syluslittlecrows @divigo @coupsgfsstuff @jennwonwoo

#seventeen #college au #seventeen fanfic #falling for a bet or dare trope #fluff #jeon wonwoo #wonwoo fanfic #wonwoo x reader #kpop #wonu #seventeen wonwoo #wonu x reader

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mushibashiraas · 3 days ago

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warning(s): they/them pronouns, bisexual rindou, spirals, depression, self-harm/“picking at the skin on their fingertips again,” mentions of cheating, rin being a d¡ck (but only bc he met reader in a weird, awkward situation), hair pulling, the occasional swear word, waist-specifications, reader has a ton of stuffed animals/plushies, suggestive comments (2 references towards the end), and affectionate nicknames.

“hey, rin....?” they hesitantly ask their boyfriend of two years, eyes darting around every which way but at him. they've started picking at the skin on their fingertips again, he notices.

rindou mutes his gaming mic and turns his chair around. “yeah, baby?” sliding his headphones off of his ears with one hand, he reaches out with the other hand and pulls them towards him until they end up between his legs. wrapping an arm around their small, — as he calls it — “cute” waist he pulls them closer until they almost fall on top of him.

getting the message, they straddle rindou and reach up into his messy blonde streaks distracting their fingers with the lines of bright, cyan-blue running through them.

they don't want to seem angry at rin for this because gods above! they could never be angry at him. their angel. their rock. their peter parker or miles morales. he's always looking out for them. always putting them first before his own needs. they think — no... they know that he'd drop the entire world if they asked him too.

but at the same time.... they just love waking up to his soft features in the morning on the rare occasion when they wake up first. they love when they go to bed and the last thing they see at night is rindou, purple eyes softening and gazing at them as if they hung the stars in his sky. his face relaxing as his eyelids slowly droop trying to and failing to fight off the god hypnos' spell.

so then why? why does he turn around on some nights? or what about those other nights where he'll join them in bed late after staying up playing with his old gang friends and he crawls in behind them and snuggles them in his sleep. he doesn't bother turning them around to face him and kiss his cute nose goodnight. did they say something or do something? did their relationship change? does he not love them? is he cheating on them with someone else? perhaps someone physically and mentally stronger than them caught his eye at the club the other night when they turned him down to join him and ran. he'd be better off with them than they're sorry ass—

a harsh tug on their hair rips a sharp whine from their throat. “what the hell, rin?! what was that for?” they pull away from him and glare at him one hand reaching up behind their head where rindou had just yanked.

“i've been talkin’ to ya this whole time, babe.” he doesn't look mad or annoyed but he certainly looks worried. “you know you've been talkin’ this whole time, yeah? and i've been trying to tell you something and explain to you why i've been sleeping with my back to you or sleeping on the other side of the bed. but you've been spiralling so deep in your thoughts that you didn't hear a word i said. calm down, ok?” compared to the rough tug he gave their hair earlier, he gently cups their face in his rough hands, thumbs rubbing soothing circles on their cheeks. “sorry for pulling your hair like that, hon’. but you were really gone; had me worried there!” he gives them a quick cheeky smile and pecks their forehead. “i was worried because i care about you. i like the feeling of being able to protect someone else dear to me besides my own brother. he's older than me so i don't get that feeling very often. but when i met you and you clung to to me when you passed out and came to that one time, i wanted to feel that sensation again. that pride of and happiness of being a person that someone can rely on. i know it was an accident but still... ‘twas nice.”

“....oh....” they suddenly felt so embarrassed and so ashamed, even though deep down they knew they had nothing to be ashamed about. rindou's their boyfriend. he's one of the few people in their life that has stuck around. the man they've secretly daydreamed of marrying. he's seen them naked. seen them in tears. seen them angry. rindou's caught them in every possible vulnerable state they could ever be in and he never let them down. never gave up on them. never walked away. why would he...? why would.... he.... “why would you stay with me? you've seen every side of me since then. like i said, i am sure there are others out there who aren't as fucked up as me. who are far healthier than i am and can accompany you more often to your club at night with your brother and friends. i don't hold you back; you've said that so that's not the issue here. but.... i want to know why, in a sea of people, you would still choose me.” by now they had started sobbing, face buried in his t-shirt, tattooed arms wrapped firmly around their waist, their own hands balled into fists clutching onto him for dear life as if he'd disappear otherwise.

“babe,” he pressed a kiss to the top of your head, big, warm, calloused hands slowly rubbing their back. “i choose you over any other healthy guy or girl because i've seen your determination and persistance through everything you've gone through. the only people i've seen with that much determination were that hanagaki guy and toman's leader. but they're different from you; you've remained selfless and compassionate to everyone, no matter what. always the open-minded one trying to see someone's perspective or situation from their end. you're one of the last people to judge others. not gonna lie, i thought it was pretty naive at first. figured you'd be — and saw it often — walked all over a lot. but you never let that keep you down for long.”

they huffed. pouting they also grumbled back, “sure seems long....”

he made a sound like a game show buzzer going off because a contestant ran out of time or got the answer wrong. “incorrect answer, my love. it seemed long but it was always only temporary. things always changed for the better. if things in the world never changed for the better then it would've imploded a long time ago. anyway,” he moves his hands from their back to their shoulders and raises them to look him in the eye.

“anyway,” he says again, “babe, you always say that one of your traits is that you're stubborn as hell. well, ever think that your stubborness applies here too? you're so stubborn and determined to not let people's opinions of you cloud your outlook on life. you've seen and experienced so much that you don't wish to see others go through the same hardships as you. so you give back to others as much as you can. that's pretty cool, y’know? you're cool, babe! the coolest! we can be cool together: you, me, and ran — you laughed! that made you laugh!” rin cheered and giddily kissed their tears away. “but!” he abruptly leaned back all of a sudden. “he can only join our cool squad only because i know he'd be offended at never let me live it down that i don't think he's cool enough to join.” he rolls his eyes at the audacity of how far his brother would go with his dramatics. “it's a wonder *aniki's not an actor with how dramatic he can be sometimes.”

taking a few tissues from the box sitting on rin's desk, they dried their eyes, cleaned their face and blew their nose. “i mean, he did say he's always wanted to be a celebrity. so basically he's living the ‘actor’ life anyway, isn't he?”

taking a clean tissue from them he patted their cheeks dry and chuckled, “true. even if it is my club he's still a celebrity by association. anyway, you good now, babe? baby? my love? my angel? my sweet thing? dollfhmph?” he playfully glared at his “dollface” as they clapped a hand over his mouth. “don't like that last one, baby? ‘s’not what you said last night while i was—”

“you finish that sentence and you'll sleep on the couch!” they playfully retorted back. “besides, you never answered my question about why you've been sleeping with your back to me or why you've been sleeping on the other side of the bed lately.”

“you've got enough stuffed animals. i want to be your stuffed plushie that you hold at night and cuddle with.” the instant rindou pouted and crossed his arms over his chest, they knew he was partly messing with them still to cheer them up. “but in all seriousness,” he relaxed his posture and returned to cleaning them up and fixing their hair. “in all seriousness, baby, when i crawl in behind you after i log off from my game i just like the feeling of your back pressed to my chest as i wrap my arms around you. i also love it when you subconsciously hold onto my own arms when i do that. it's cute!” leaning in, he rests his forehead against theirs and watches and feels as they slowly get more and more flustered. “you know what else is cute?”

“wh-what....?” they stutter, barely able to maintain eye contact with him with how intensely his gaze on them was.

“i also adore how flustered you get — even though we've been dating for two years and have been friends for three — whenever i go to kiss you or whenever i undress you. it makes my heart swell every time i see you trying to look away from me. it only makes me want to kiss you more, y’know? and i think that's exactly what i'll do.” tilting his head to the side rindou gives their lips one peck. two. three.

throwing his headphones onto his chair, he stands up and hoists them over his hips as he effortlessly carries them to the bed. between each deep, hungry, breathless kiss he mutters lowly against their lips high praise after high praise while also promising to show them in slow, agonizing detail why he would never leave and always choose them every time.

note. ....did i grab my own face in my own hands to figure out how rin would hold it and where he'd massage on my face with his thumbs.....? .......yes...... no....... hhhh ABSOLUTELY! fine. lol listen. artists aren't the only ones who do "weird" shit lol

also feel free to listen to 13Aurora's “can't catch me now” slowed + reverb cover on while you read this iyw. i had it on loop while i wrote this aaa tho tbh i was looping it all day

aaaaaa seasonal depression has been kicking me in the ass on top of my symptomatic depression (thanks, migraines). so i've been spiralling a lot lately. and when i spiral,, i wrote rindou comfort lol a bit prouder of this compared to my last rindou comfort (that one is still in my drafts tho. ew!). i like the ending more in this one than the last one!! it flows better, i hope, what with all the kissing and loving and suggestive writing~ oooo *squirms in my seat* i adore final timeline rindou so so much — almost as much as bonten arc rindou hahah!! gamer!rindou also has my whole heart and soul too so i had to include that as well as rin's beloved older brother whom i also adore.

(are rin's gaming friends waiting for him to come back and help them defeat the boss with them....? uhh,,,,,,,,, *stares at rin's afk character* yes!)

*ALSO! “aniki” means older bro or big bro or older brother in japanese slang

#tokyo revengers #haitani rindou #haitani rindou x reader #haitani rindo x reader #rindou x reader #rindo x reader

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