#I’m pretty sure we’re just called slurs

[dragonnarrative-writes]

Transferrable Skills Part 2

Transferrable Skills Masterlist

You don’t often use your MyFet beyond finding a group or conference to attend. You periodically clear out your messages, just in case an acquaintance wants to reach out. So you almost delete the message from the anonymous profile on autopilot, but the subject line intrigues you.

Interested in Distance Play, No Punishments - 14 Hrs Ago

Intrigued, you open it because… at least they read a little bit of your profile.

I noticed your profile because of your self-rope pictures. The rest of your profile is very interesting to me - specifically your engagement in solo play and dislike of punishment. I liked the post you made about obedience as an ongoing active choice.

I���m a man in my 30s with a classified job. I travel a lot, and I’m looking for someone to have a strictly long-distance arrangement with. I’m interested in: non-restrictive rope, obedience, behavior modification, praise. I’m sure there’s more, but I’ve written this message six times. Please let me know if you’re interested in discussing.

Well, that’s refreshingly straightforward and devoid of unsolicited smut. You read the message again, then click into his profile. G_987654321_ It’s… pretty bare. But if he’s got a classified job, that makes sense, right? Location: Antarctica. His age is listed as 33, and he’s listed himself as dominant and seeking acquaintances and play partners. Not interested in hookups, interested in casual nudity, obedience, praise. Hard limits of degradation and humiliation.

It’s not much more information than the message itself, but it’s more than some of the men who have asked if you want to meet up in private. You review his original message and bite your knuckle. Worst case scenario, he’s some troll who will call you a range of slurs and waste your time, and then you’ll block him. Best case scenario… he means what he says.

What are you looking for? Who, What, When, Where, and Why?

You send the message and log out of the app before you can chicken out. Your inner voice is grumbling (stupid stupid stupid), but that’s normal. You let yourself watch two and a half episodes of your latest show, and then make a hearty dinner.

You’re surprised when you pick your phone back up. One new message.

The whole time you’re cursing the app for glitching and logging you out and forgetting your password, you’re sure it’s not him. Most likely, it’s an event announcement from a friend or a bot. But you like going to events, so it’s worth it.

It’s a message. It’s from him.

Who: You and Me What: Praise-based, goal-oriented obedience play When: Twice weekly when we’re both available, but I won’t always be available. Sometimes weekly, sometimes a greater time between meet ups. Where: Virtual meetings. Video preferred, audio-only acceptable. First couple of discussions will be text based until I can get secure video set up. Why: Mutual relaxation and well being. Sexual connection preferred, but obviously not required.

Having a guide was helpful. Thank you.

Well… That’s something.

—

You follow Simon towards the fighting, which is not where you wanted to go. When you point this out, he barely acknowledges except to say “You don’t want to go the other way.” So you keep low and stay quiet and breathe like he told you to.

He leads you down a few halls and you don’t bother trying to remember the route. He seems to know where he’s going. One or twice he has you stop while he checks around a corner, but eventually, he herds you into a small conference room. You freeze when you see three men, but Simon drops the muzzle of his gun to the floor, so you must not be in too much danger.

“Who’s this then?” A man in tactical vest and boonie hat steps forward, and you sidle behind Simon before you know your feet are moving. He gives you a considering look before looking to Simon.

The man in question fishes you out from behind his and plants you in front of him with a heavy hand on your shoulder. “Found Bambi wandering the halls.”

Boonie Hat’s eyebrows pop up. “Bambi?”

“’Bout scared the piss out o’me,” Simon confirms.

“Well, that throws a wrench in things,” the other man says. “But there’s nothing for it. Stow her for now, we’ll keep her safe.”

Simon’s hand guides you to the other side of the large table and pushes you gently into a plush rolling chair. He puts his huge body between you and the others, who look at you curiously,

“Eyes up, li’l fawn,” he intones.

You aren’t sure how well you hide the flinch when you see the skull covering his face, again. He’s quiet as you look between his eyes, clasps his gloved hands in his lap so you can see them when you look over him.

There’s a lot of him to look over.

Now that you’re not moving, you can see the brown spots on the edge of his mask, flecked on his tactical vest. His thighs spread a bit beneath his black pants where they meet the table. His biceps bulge, which is a whole different experience in person than it is online. Theres a gun on his hip, and a knife. Two knives. Three. How many knives does a man need?

Enough for everyone’s throats. You have to bite back terrified giggles.

“You’re gonna stay ‘ere,” Simon tells you, interrupting your musing. Your horror must be plain on your face because he shushes you, again. “Shhh. Easy. This wing’s secure. Can’t keep you safe if I’m wonderin’ where you’ve wandered to. Acknowledge.”

“What if something goes wrong?” you blurt.

“You follow Price if you can't see or ‘ear me. ‘e's the Captain, outranks me,” Simon answers. He points to Boonie Hat, then to the black man, who smiles at you, and a white man with a mohawk, who looks at you like you’re the most fascinating thing he’s seen all day. “This is Gaz, that's Soap. You can't find the Captain, you sit tight and wait for one of them to retrieve you."

“But-!”

“Acknowledge, Bambi.”

You swallow back tears. “Please don’t leave me alone.”

“’M goin’ where the guns are,” he answers. “’S my job to take care of you, right? Acknowledge.”

It’s hard to get the words out, but you do. “Acknowledged. You have to take care of me.”

“’M not always going to be able to do that the way you want. Acknowledge.”

“Acknowledged. Not always the way I want.”

“’M gonna keep you safe as I can,” he says. “’Nd it’s okay that you’re scared. But this is my job. ‘S not a scene. So I can’t negotiate. Acknowledge.”

“It’s your job,” you say, taking a deep breath and letting it out. Unfortunately, you can feel the day catching up with you, and your eyes start to prickle. “It’s not a scene, we can’t negotiate right now. Acknowledged.”

The one called Gaz approaches from the other side of the table. “Ghost, we’ve got to get moving.”

Before you can integrate the realization that Simon is apparently called Ghost, the other one, Soap, peeks around Simon’s shoulder with a raised eyebrow. “This your bird, LT? Le’s get her tucked away, aye?”

Something about the way he asks if you are Simon’s bird, his girl, flips a switch in your brain. Because you’re not Simon’s girl. You’re not even supposed to have ever met in person. You’re an online sub, a weird, awkward, anxious person who couldn’t find an in person connection. And yeah, Simon-Also-Called-Ghost is an online Dom but apparently that’s because he’s running around Europe rescuing people from hostage situations!

It’s a little much.

You suck in a breath through your mouth as everything gets blurry with tears. Your whole body shakes with the sob that you try not to let out. You simultaneously want to lock every muscle in place and curl up on the ground to die.

A hiccup shakes you hard enough that you almost fall out of your chair.

Simon’s gloved hand grips the back of your head, and you’re guided to press your forehead against his thigh.

"Shhhhh," he whispers, and you can almost pretend that you’re listening to him in your ear from thousands of miles away. His pants are tough and scratchy, nothing like your pillow, but the steady pressure of his hand is so steadying. "It's okay. I know this isn't a scene, but the same rules apply. You feel overwhelmed, don’t know what to say, you hold up 4 fingers. No punishments for feeling something. Show me."

Holding up 4 fingers feels familiar. The way his hand cups the back of your skull doesn't. But it's still nice.

Sooner than you’d like, Simon guides you down off the chair and under the table. You can’t pay attention to the others, though you can see their boots on the other side of the room. Instead, you keep your eyes on his his right hand, stuck on the inane detail of skeleton themed gloves. Your dom wears skeleton gear to work. His work is killing some people and saving others.

That hand cups your chin and makes you look up into his face. His eyes are dark, piercing. His voice, when he speaks, sends shiver down your spine. “Stay. Acknowledge.”

You’re already about as low down as you can get, but you still duck your head as much as you can while keeping eye contact. “Acknowledged. Stay.”

His thumb caresses your cheek for a long moment. And then he’s standing. Chairs are pushed in to surround you, and four pairs of heavy boots dash from the room.

You curl up, hug yourself, and let the tears fall.

You wake up with a start. Your whole body hurts, shoulder and neck and hips tight like they haven’t been in a long time. And of course they are. You’re on the ground, lying under a conference table. Why the hell are you under a conference table? You’re not in college anymore, you’re too old for this shit.

And then you see a pair of huge boots round the edge of the table and remember.

Your heart is in your throat as two chairs are shifted away and a huge form drops into a crouch. A part of you flinches back from the mask, the tactical clothing, the blood you almost can’t see shining on his boot. But then you see those eyes and think, Oh. You came back for me.

[kombuuuu]

Birthday Girl.

Earth42!Miles x Reader + Pavitr x Reader

“Happy Birthday, [Name].”

Headcanons and snippets C:

i want to wife him

E42!Miles: Purple Pavitr: Orange You: Pink Rio Morales: Blue

Miles Morales:

Would wake you up with breakfast in bed

if it’s a day where he’s called in for a job he’ll fight Aaron on getting the day off for you

although, the fight wouldn’t last long

Aaron likes you too, so with a sigh and a pinch of his nose bridge, he concides

letting Miles have the day off but only with a promise of working him to the bone the next day over

he rolls his eyes but the smirk on his face makes his uncle scoff a laugh

so with breakfast in hand, he’s gently shaking you awake

whispering your name with the promise of food

your sleepy voice greeting him makes the butterflies in his stomach awaken

“[Name].. Wake up, Chiquita, I have breakfast.”

“Food? Hi, Miles.”

He smiles at your slurred words, and you peak your head from under your covers. Pulling yourself to sit up.

There’s a spread of breakfasts foods in front of you, all your favourites.

“Miles..”

“Happy Birthday, Mami.”

“I’m gonna kiss you.”

“I won’t stop you.”

Spoils you with gifts

literally anything he could’ve possibly seen that you even might have liked

designer shoes to match with him (Nike Airs)

Matching jewellery as well, literally adores matching with you

gets you a chain with his name on it and one with yours for himself

whether you like silver or gold he gets you some premium shit

likes the look of white gold so that’s what he got himself

would do genuinely anything you want him 2

takes you to your fav nail tech to get you both done

he lets you choose the colours but makes sure to include purple with his own

after he takes you shopping,

you tell him off

he literally already bought you so much

knows what he’s doing tho

“Miles!”

“Aye, ma. C’mere.”

“We’re not going in there.”

“Yes we are.”

He settles his hands along your waist, turning you towards the boutique.

“Miles— It’s expensive in—,”

“I have an opening booked for us.”

His monotoned voice dragged in your ear, a shiver in its wake.

“Wha— C’mon!”

“Don’t pout at me, Mami. Might have to take you home.”

“I’m not pouting—“

“Hi.”

“Hello Mr.Morales, Right this way, Please.”

“Mr.Morales..?”

take you both to a boutique to get you clothes for the night

let’s you try on any dress you want

you try and pick the ones that don’t look too pricey

he catches on pretty quick and ends up picking the dresses for you to try himself

makes you show off for him

likes how you look in expensive shit and makes it known

“Damn, ma. Gonna have to buy that one for a later date..”

“Baby, no event is going to come up anytime soon that big enough for a dress like this.”

“I’m a patient man.”

ends up getting something that complements both your nails and the matching jewellery

also buys the matching shoes

he had a huge thing for seeing you in heels, but if you prefer flats he’ll make the workers find you something

gets a suit for himself

he’s been here before so they know his measurements.

gets a simple white blouse, with a dark grey set, a matching waist coat with it. And a black tie to go with the black buttons on the waist coat and cuffs.

doesn’t really bother with shoes

just figured he’s gonna wear his normal shit

when checking out, he makes sure to distract you with talk on what he plans for the night

adding tidbits that have both you and the store clerk blushing

the poor clerk just trying to ring you up

He leant over to whisper in your ear, rather loudly for someone “trying” to be discreet.

“Can’t wait to take you home, Chiquita. Seein’ you all dolled up for me? Jesus..”

“Oh my god.”

“That’ll be—“

“I got it.”

The clerk handed you the bags quickly before printing the receipt and going to rush off.

“Thank you, Have a nice day.”

Miles’ rumbling chuckle made your knees weaken.

“Yeah, we will.”

Takes you home to get ready,

touching you the whole time you do your make-up

whether it’d be a hand smoothing down your shoulders, massaging you while you worked

or his grip on the expanse of your waist

or even his nails raking down your back, watching the goose bumps rise as he did, infatuated

eventually you were both ready

and it was late

he took you to a high end restaurant, Electric Lemon it was called

and when you walked in greeted by his family, mingling with yours

you might have teared up a bit

“Chiquita? You ok?”

“Mmha..”

“If it’s too much we ca—“

“No, Miles, I love it. I love you—,”

You turned to him, the small smile gracing his lips a rare but gorgeous sight.

“This is perfect, thank you.”

“Love you too, Mi Cielo.”

“Oh (Name)! Feliz cumple! No es linda? Miles hizo increible!”

“Oh! [Name]! Happy Birthday! Isn’t this so nice? Miles did amazing!”

“Momma, Please—“

'Oh! Y Aaron era tan secreto sobre lo que era -'

“Oh! And Aaron was all secretive about what it was—,”

She leaned close to you, whispering “-así supe que toda fue para ti”

“,—so I knew it was for you.”

She smiled sweetly at you while you giggled back. Thanking her for coming to see you. She waved you off, walking you an Miles over to Aaron as she spoke.

“No, no me das gracias. Tu eres mi hija. Sería un crimen no venir.”

“No, Don’t thank me. You’re my daughter, it’d be a crime to not show up.”

You glanced over to Miles, seeing the sincerity behind his eyes when watching the two loves of his life interact so sweetly. You smiled back in turn.

He whisked you away from the party, after a while. Taking you to the more secluded parts of the rooftop. Completely devoid of life, he cradled your head to his and kissed you earnestly. Putting his Heart and Soul into loving you.

You giggled into his mouth, watching him smile back. You dragged your finger down the centre of his braids, something he’d come to love you doing. He pulled back from you, watching you smile up at him. His eyes shining with an endless love.

“Happy Birthday, [Name].”

—

he is so boyfriend coded

Pavitr Prabhakar:

will do similar to Miles, but not with breakfast in bed

will wake you up with flowers and kisses and an outfit he knew you liked set out for you

like i said in this, sleepy you makes him go insane

he’d let you sit with him a while whilst you woke up, and would smother you in love, whispering his praise to you

pulls you into his lap to look him in the eye while he confesses how much he loves you like it’s the first time all over again

“Thithli, you mean the world to me—,”

He massaged the flesh of your thighs, resting along his waist. He was flustered looking up to you, knowing you were there, with him, drove him farther head over heels.

“—You’re the love of my life, getting older with you is the greatest blessing of my life.”

“Pav.. baby..” You whined his name, waking up to such affections would be something you could never get used to.

“I’m so glad you exist with me, Shonu.”

You shoved you head into his neck, hiding your lovey-dovey smile from him.

“Love you, Pavitr..”

“Love you more, [Name].”

When you’ve woken up more

he coaxed you for a shower, taking care of you like the doting lover he is

pats you dry and helps you dress, then dresses himself

all while telling you how you make him whole, how you’re the reason he’s here and he’ll never be as happy as he is with you

it’s obsessive, but you’re just as bad

you tell him more in touches than in words, and he takes it in stride.

he’s come to know your love language, both of you sharing touch, but you take in the quality time trait as well

so he makes sure to drag the day out as long as he can

makes the morning slow, brings you his gifts and starts the food while you open them

he pets your cat and cooks, watching you out of the corner of his eye

He’d gotten you a set of bangles with small spiders engraved, crested in diamonds.

ones matching to the ones he wears

accompanied with a matching collar for your cat, which you smiled at

he’d also gotten you smaller, sentimental things likes references to your first dates, massage oils,

and things you’d said you liked in passing, that’d he’d remembered. because of course he had

he smiles when you shyly cover your mouth, looking down at the things he’d gifted with teary eyes

knowing how hard it is for you to accept gifts,

he doesn’t say anything, just turns the stove down and walks over to kiss you

“You okay, Jaanu?”

You looked up at him from the paper in your hands, nodding with a pout of your lips and a tremble in your voice.

“Yeah—, Yes, I’m good.”

He leant over to kiss your temple, smiling as he turned back to tend to the food, “Thank you, Pav.”

He glanced back over at you.

“My pleasure, Thithli.”

you lie in bed together for another two hours after you eat

just taking in each others prescience and letting the calming white noise of a distant show in the background soothe you

you hold him close, listening to his heart beat

when a song comes on he recognises and he sings to it softly, the contented sigh you let out is involuntary

he eventually gets you up again, since you’re already dressed, you feed your cat and leave

he walks you through the streets of his home, bringing you to his favourite spots

to feed the stray dogs with him, or to grip onto him and swing over the immense traffic

“Pav, If I fall, I’m blaming you.”

“Thithli, you won’t fall. I promise.”

“Okay.. But if I do—“ He grabbed your waist and hoisted you against him, shooting a web to a high building and swinging you up. Using his bangles to create more momentum and fluidity with his swings.

“Pavitr Prabhakar! I’m going to kill you!”

“Kiss me? Doesn’t really sound like a threat..”

“I swear—“

His sweetened laugh interrupted your spiel, and you couldn’t even be mad.

he eventually leads you back to his house

where your friends and family (his included), are waiting for you.

They greet you in tandem, with a cute, fairly out of sync “Surprise!”

the furniture in his house had been pushed into the far corners and the tiles of his family’s large lounging area had been made into a make-shift dance floor,

everything else being decorated in a very honest sense

and if there was a ache in your chest for the love you’d felt then, no one but you would know

all your spidery friends were there as well— only making the evening even more special

festivities shown were upbeat and exciting and you hadn’t felt more of a community than you had at that moment

When a lull in the upbeat songs play, and a slower, more set tone starts through the speakers—, Pavitr cuts in, taking you from Hobie, who shoots him off with a wink.

He holds you close, starting a slow dancing sway with you.

“How’re you finding it, Shonu?”

The lights dancing in your eyes make you evermore pretty to him.

“It’s—.. Its beautiful Pav, I’m so happy,”

People had started to sway with you, keeping the middle of the floor clean for you and your lover.

“,Thank you.”

“Only the best for you, [Name].”

You’d swayed with him for another minute before the end of the song had approached. Him twirling you out and catching you in a dip whilst you laughed and went along with it.

He brought you up into a quick, cheesy kiss.

“How romantic.”

“Cause I love you.”

Your voice quietened. “Love you more, Spidey.”

He stared at you a moment longer, placing a kiss along your temple once more.

“Happy Birthday, [Name].”

—

FOR MY BDAY GIRL @juneberrie 🥳🥳‼️

and ty to my lovely translator 🫶 @kissmxcheek

(PUT ME IN A CELL 💥💥⬇️)

[throneofsapphics]

the other side 

young!Rhys x Reader 

Summary: “I hate you” “No you don’t”  and “How do you sleep at night?” “I usually go for a bed” with Rhys 

Warnings: drinking, bickering 

A/N: for this! (continued here)

Through the sweat, liquor, and various perfumes you still managed to pick up on that distinct sea and citrus smell. That scent only meant one thing. He was back, your good mood was about to take a turn.  

The High Lord’s son infuriated you. Usually stayed away from Velaris, you didn’t know where exactly he went - rumor had it somewhere in Illyria, but as long as he was away from you, you were fine with it. You’d suffered through lessons with him when you were younger, and that was plenty. The two of you always had it out for each other, bickering over one thing or another and constantly getting in trouble because of it. 

Still, each year when winter solstice came around, you mentally prepared yourself to deal with him. Maybe this time, if you stayed in the shadowed corner of the bar, he’d leave you the hell alone. It was a nice sentiment, but he loved tormenting you too much for that and you should’ve known it. 

“Fuck off,” you snarled as he slid into the stool next you. 

“Charming as always,” he braced one forearm on the wooden bar, angling his body towards you. 

Fingers tightened around the stem of your wine glass, shoulders rolled back, you turned to face him. 

“Can I help you?” you gritted your teeth. 

“I can’t say hello to an old friend?” His eyes danced, stars twinkling, and you tamped down the urge to throw your drink at him. Rhysand wasn’t worth getting kicked out or causing a scene

“We’re not friends.” 

“An old acquaintance,” he modified. 

“That’s better,” you replied, eyes rolling, you shifted away from him and downed the rest of your wine. 

“Impressive.” 

“I’m not trying to impress you,” you hissed. 

“That’s obvious,” he made a show of running his eyes over your body. 

“Mother above, I hate you.” 

“No, you don’t, darling.” 

“Don’t -” 

“Call me that,” he waved you off, “yes I know.” 

“If you know,” you spat, “then why do you still do it?” 

“Because it amuses me,” he shrugged, and stood. Your reactions, amuse him. Theoretically, if you wanted him to stop - you’d just ignore him completely, but there was something comfortable about the routine - the bickering each time you’d see him, so you let it happen. From the little spark in his eyes, he felt the same. “Same time next year,” he winked, before turning and melting into the crowd. 

“Fuck,” your hit the table a touch too hard, catching a few wary looks. He’d gotten the last word in. This time.

-

You should’ve asked more questions. Absolutely should’ve asked more. When your friend invited you, you assumed it would just be a few of your mutual friends, people you ran with regularly. 

In the future, you’d make sure to ask exactly who would be in attendance, considering your greatest childhood and now a few times a year annoyance was sitting on a chaise, making it his throne. His eyes gleamed as he saw you. 

You were tempted to turn around, to walk right out that door and forget about this, but that would mean he’d won and that was utterly unacceptable. 

A few drinks later, the two of, to your mutual surprise, spoke to each other somewhat civilly. 

“I’ve been wondering,” he drawled. You stared at him, not bothering to egg him on. He frowned when you didn’t bite, but continued, “how do you sleep at night?” 

“Excuse me?” You choked.

“With all of that arrogance,” he continued. “Aren’t you up all night? Thinking about yourself? About how pretty you are?” His words were slightly slurred, alcohol, sounding like he was trying to make a joke that wasn’t quite landing as he wished.

“I usually go for a bed,” you deadpanned, “and you look like you need a rest.” 

You scanned the room, aware of exactly who was in here, and who might try to take advantage of the heir in this state. There were plenty of takers. Sure, you weren’t his biggest fan, but you couldn’t let that happen. Maybe there was a lingering sense of loyalty after suffering through the same lessons. 

“Let’s get you home,” you finally said, and linked your arm through his. 

Taking me home, darling? His voice purred in your mind, sending a shiver down your spine. You forgot he could do that. 

Getting you away from the vipers, you countered tersely. 

Don’t let my father see me like this. 

You stopped, sending him a quizzing look, and saw the slight desperation in his eyes. If  his father saw him like this … you didn’t try to fill in the blanks. Instead, you were sober enough to winnow him back to your apartment. 

-

The memories faded, and you let out a soft laugh against his chest. “You really love throwing us right back into the past, don’t you?”

“It’s interesting to see me from your side,” Rhys ran his fingers lazily through your hair. “I never realized quite how much I annoyed you.”

[sturnina]

Rule number one

Dealer!Chris x Fem!reader

— tags;; drug use, a lot of curse words, no use of y/n, arguments, angst

— wc;; 1.7k

— author‘s note;; my take on dealer!chris since I find it concerning that people think it‘s a good idea for him to be a druggie, hope you enjoy <3

Rule number one is clear. You are aware of it, Chris is aware of it, everyone knows. The dealer does not take their own stuff. Because what happens then? It goes down way too fast. It is too dangerous.

Everyone knows. With an almost infinite supply of more, always more, it is a risk you cannot take.

And yet, you’re here. Standing in front of Chris, with a deep and dark pit in your stomach. Fuck. His eyes are clearly dilated, and his heart is racing—you can feel it through his shirt when you press your hand against his chest. He mutters something incoherent, a smile dripping from his lips.

“What was it?” you mumble, more to yourself. At least you’re alone with him, away from his brothers or customers. “What did you take?” you ask again, louder this time while gripping his chin and forcing him to look at you.

No. Wrong approach. Violence doesn’t help. But fuck, you need to know what it was.

“Was it K? Ketamine? Chris, did you take Ketamine?” you ask, slowly rubbing his shoulders. Oh, please let it be Ketamine.

He laughs and launches forward, embracing you tightly. “Shush Ma, you’re making me all worried,” he whispers, pressing a kiss to your head. “It’s alright. It will be alright, trust me.”

The pit in your stomach deepens while the machinery in your mind runs at full speed. Racing heartbeat. Emotional closeness. Dizziness maybe? From the way he is swaying, you can tell he is more than a little lightheaded. **

“What do you feel?” you ask him, pulling away a little to look at him. “How are you feeling? Are you disoriented? Drowsy?”

Chris shakes his head, sighing deeply. “Doesn’t matter,” he mutters, his voice getting a slight slurred edge.

“Do you have a headache? Or an increased appetite?”

“No?” His voice is disinterested—he clearly could not care less. Unfortunately, this is all you care about at the moment. Increased body temperature, sweating, slurred speech…

“Chris, did you take MDMA?”

“Mmh…” he says, pulling you close again and peppering kisses to your head. “No, it was a longer name…”

“Ecstasy, Chris.” A slight undertone of desperation lies in your voice. How does he not remember the simplest things? “MDMA is Ecstasy. Did you take it or not?”

“Why does it matter?” he asks, pulling away to look at you. His movements are unpredictable and confused—clearly, he does not see the way you do right now. Even if just through his energy. “Come on, let’s go back inside and have fun. Dance with me, pretty girl, yeah?”

He grabs your hands, but you refuse. “You can’t go back in there,” you say sternly.

“But the party isn’t over,” he complains. “I still gotta dance… and deal.”

“You can’t. Deal, I mean.” A lump forms in your throat at the confused look he shoots at you through half-lidded eyes.

“What? Sure I can! Look, I still have-” The second he pulls out a small bottle of pills, you snatch it out of his hand. And you were right—it’s X, MDMA, clarity, whatever you want to call it.

“Chris you have to stop dealing.”

“I know you’re always worried about me, Ma,” he says with a sloppy grin. “But you know I have everything under control. No one’s going to get too dangerous.”

“That’s not what I’m talking about,” you sigh, stepping closer. “Chris, you have to stop dealing. You broke rule number one. You have a practically infinite supply of drugs, and you just started taking them. What do you think is happening now?”

He frowns, clearly having difficulties concentrating. Fuck, how long does Ecstasy last? You go through your memory, trying to find anything about it. From one up to… was it five? Six hours? Fuck.

“We’re going,” you say, grabbing his hand and pulling him out of the room you searched for shelter from the party.

The second you step outside, into the main area, the music clogs up your ears. Smoke burns in your lungs, mixed with the smells of alcohol and sweat. You’ve never been a fan of parties like this, but you came with Chris more and more often, wanting to look out for him—even though you wouldn’t be able to do anything in an extreme case.

But today, you’re infinitely grateful for having come with him. Who else would force him to go home and not take another pill? His brothers don’t even know what’s going on behind the scenes, he’s taken care of that.

Back at your car, you force him into the passenger seat. Now looking at him, restlessly playing with the decoration on your glovebox, you’re almost relieved he did it. Just because it means he has to stop dealing. As soon as he’s sober, he’ll realise that too.

After getting into the driver’s seat, you lock the doors and reach out a hand. “Give me your phone.”

“Huh?” he asks, pulling out his iPhone.

“Not that one. The burner one.”

Frowning deeply, he crosses his arms. “No.”

“Yes. Chris, do it.”

“No way. That’s the only contact I have with customers and the supplier,” he protests.

“Exactly. Hand it over, I’m not asking you again.” Your fingers move twice in your direction, a sign everyone knows. Come on, you think, don’t make this more complicated.

“A’ight,” he mutters, pulling it out of his back pocket and going back to fiddling with something he found in your car. You couldn’t care less what it is.

“Good,” you mutter, quickly chucking the phone into the backseat from where you’ll pick it up later. For now, you need to get Chris home.

The drive back is silent, except for when he occasionally starts humming a melody and then abruptly stops, grinding his teeth.

“Don’t do that,” you mutter, watching him out of the corner of your eye.

“Stop telling me what to do,” he replies, staring ahead like a pouty kid. “I can take care of myself.”

“Clearly,” you scoff, a wave of anger bubbling up in your chest.

How could he be so careless? How could he possibly have thought that taking drugs as a goddamn drug dealer is okay? That it works? He knows the dangers of every drug. He’s seen people get completely wasted, slowly destroying their lives and the ones of the people around them.

Why would he do this to you? To his brothers? His friends and family?

Tears are burning in your eyes and you blink rapidly to focus your gaze on the street.

“Ma? ‘re you crying?” Chris asks. His voice is softer but clearly slurred now. The drug seems to be kicking in.

You open your mouth to say something, but not a single sound escapes your lips.

“Why are you crying, love?” he whispers.

“Why would you do that?” you finally ask. “You know drugs. You know what they do. You know they destroy lives. Fuck, Chris, what’s going on? Why did you take it?”

The car is silent, and nervosity settles in the pit of your stomach.

“Chris…?” you ask again. “Why did you take it?”

“I js wanted to try,” he mumbles. It’s clearly not the only answer, but now is not the time to figure out what exactly led him to be so stupid.

After stopping the car in front of your house—you won’t let Nick and Matt see him in this state—, you force Chris outside, into the cool air. He doesn’t react, even as you start shivering. You quickly fetch the burner phone from the backseat and lead Chris inside, pushing him through the front door and to the couch. He seems restless and refuses to sit down, so you let him wander around.

While he’s still in his drug-induced haze, you sit down at the kitchen island and open the flip phone. The first number is his suppliers’, you know that, saved simply as G. It rings only once before he picks it up.

“You run out this quickly?” he asks. No greeting, no nothing.

“No,” you reply. The tension is palpable, even through the phone.

“Who are you?” G asks cautiously.

“You will not supply C anymore,” you say, careful not to use Chris’s name. “Do you understand me?”

“Tell me who you are and I’ll consider,” he repeats.

“That’s none of your business. If you sell to Chris-” Fuck, fuck fuck. “If you sell to him again, I will find out and send the police after you.”

The guy chuckles. “Easy. I’m sure we can talk about this. You his girlfriend?”

“Yeah,” you sigh, running a hand over your face.

“You worried about him or something?”

“Obviously,” you scoff. “I don’t want him to become an addict. That’s normal, I fear.”

“He wouldn’t. I’ve been supplying to him for a while, he does it for the money, not the drugs,” G says, apparently unimpressed. “Just stay out of his business, yeah? This is no place for little girls.”

“You listen to me, you little fuck,” you hiss, jumping up from the chair. “I know who you are and from where you supply. I know the faces of all the little dealers around here, and they’re all connected to you. I know what parties you go to, and what people you know. I’ve seen you. And I will get you if you deal with my boyfriend again. He took Ecstasy today. And trust me, I know what happens next. I’ve seen it happen. So if one of us ever hears from you again, you will be caught, I promise.”

A stunned silence fills the phone. The only sounds you hear is the clock on the kitchen wall ticking… and heavy breathing behind you.

You whip your head around. Chris stares at you with confused eyes. He reaches out for the phone, but his movements are too uncoordinated, and you dodge his hand.

“Is that G?” he asks, slurring his words more than before. “Why would you- what are you doing?”

“Making sure you don’t go down that path,” you say sternly.

Since you have no more to say to G, and you don’t care to hear his answer, you hang up the phone and guide Chris upstairs, leaving the burner phone on the kitchen counter.

“Come on, let’s go to bed.”

“But ‘m not tired,” he protests, still energised from the Ecstasy.

This is going to be a long night.

masterlist

[spnexploration]

Comments

Happy birthday Dean Winchester! Here's a quick one-shot I whipped up to celebrate.

This also fulfils the 'Plus Size' square of my @spnaubingo 2023 bingo card, even though it's 2024... I'm late, I know, but I still want to do some more of it!

Pairing: Dean Winchester x plus sized!reader

Words: 1.6k

Warnings: Couple of crap comments from a random, some not-great self-esteem and a drunk character, but nothing particularly bad.

Synopsis: A man you're interviewing makes some crap comments about your body, and Dean doesn't help. Can he make it up to you?

Supernatural writing masterlist

“Which one’s the father?” The sleazy guy joked. My stomach dropped.

“Excuse me?!”

“Oh, it’s alright love, I know the real father’s probably suffering somewhere alone while you’re off gallivanting with your workmates. I’m surprised he lets you out, really.”

The urge to punch the witness we were interviewing was overwhelming. Rather than ruin the case, I turned on my heel and marched out.

Fuck that guy. I’m not pregnant and I’m not screwing either of the Winchesters.

I heard Dean’s FBI agent tone of voice as he started speaking behind me. Great to see they were all just moving on with their lives, I thought sarcastically.

---

📱 Where are you? We’re going to the next witness’s house

A text came in from Dean. I read it but didn’t reply.

📱 You ok?

I sighed. Finally, he asks.

📱 Fine. I’ll catch up with you later

I replied. He sent me a thumbs up, I rolled my eyes.

I kicked at the ground and started the walk back into town. Sam and Dean would probably try and make me feel better, but I knew that wasn’t happening. I looked down at my soft, flabby belly that I’d tried multiple times to lose.

I walked.

---

I felt a bit absurd, getting tipsy this early. It wasn’t that I felt like I had to drink to get over the comment. It was just  that I’d gotten back to the motel room and was feeling a bit morose, and there was nothing to do. I’d tapped out of the case and I was bored. I went for another wander and this stupid town had nothing in it but a pub, and so somehow I’d ended up here, starting drinking a lot earlier than normal.

And now I looked like I was drinking my feelings, when I wasn’t.

 Not that there was anyone looking at me anyway.

Well, except in disgust. Who knew how many more people in here thought I was pregnant too. Probably thought I was harming an unborn baby, right now.

Fuck them.

---

“You know there’s still a monster on the loose?” Dean said gruffly, a frown on his face. I guess it’d been easy to find me given how few things there were in this town.

“You struggling without me?” I didn’t think I was slurring too much, but his expression did not improve when I started talking.

“How you going to fight one off like this?” he gestured to me.

“You think a few drinks are why I’m fat?” I said sarcastically.

“I’m not calling you fat, I’m calling you drunk.”

“Right,” I said with an eyeroll.

“Come on, get in the car,” he said, trying to tug my arm.

“Fuck off Dean! I can drink if I want to. There’s nothing else to do in this shithole, anyway.”

He dropped my arm and stomped off to the bar.

I turned back to my drink. Sam came and sat opposite me. You can’t escape the bloody Winchesters.

“Hey, you ok?” he asked with his puppy dog eyes.

“I’m fine. I had a free afternoon, I came to get a drink. Is that fucking crime now?”

“I meant about what happened with the guy. You seemed pretty upset.”

“Surprised you could see that, you were both so busy being silent.”

“Didn’t you hear Dean?”

“How could I hear Dean when he wasn’t saying anything?”

“No, he laid right into the guy.”

“You don’t have to lie to make me feel better. I heard Dean get right back into his FBI voice as I walked off.”

“Yeah, he was still in character at first, told the guy that he needed to speak respectfully to Agents. And then when the guy was still a douche he got a bit more Dean and threatened to punch his lights out if he didn’t shut up about you.”

I laughed into my drink. I was sure Sam was embellishing, there was just no way Dean would care that much about someone being mean to me.

Speak of the devil, Dean appeared again, tumbler of whiskey in one hand and a glass of water in the other. He put the water in front of me.

“Thanks, but I don’t accept drinks from strangers,” I said sarcastically.

“I’m not having you hung over tomorrow and being a liability to the case, drink the water.”

“I don’t remember electing you.”

“Jesus, you’re even more belligerent when drunk. Just drink the water and stop moping.”

“I’m not moping!”

“The guy was an asshole, no one thinks you look pregnant. But you can’t just drink yourself blotto and get yourself killed every time someone says something mean to you.”

I stood up, grabbed the glass of water and upended it all over Dean’s face. Then I marched out the door.

The effect was a little ruined by my drunken stagger, though.

---

Sam caught my arm as I got outside. “Come on, I’ll drive you home.”

“I walked myself here, I can walk myself home!”

“I’m pretty sure you were walking in a straight line when you got here though. Come on.”

I let him tug me to the Impala. He must’ve grabbed the keys off Dean before chasing after me.

“He’s just worried about you,” he said gently as we were exiting the carpark. “Doesn’t want you getting hurt.”

“That does not give him a free pass to behave like that.”

---

Dean stood over me, a glass of water and a couple of painkillers in his hands. “Morning, sunshine. Need some relief?”

I gratefully reached out. Man, I did not normally drink that much.

“What time is it?”

 “Time to work the case.”

I groaned, “Can’t you do it without me?”

“No, come on, back on the horse.”

“It’s not the horse that’s the problem, it’s the dog that bit me.”

“I did tell you to drink water,” he said smugly.

“Fuck off!” I threw my pillow at him. He easily deflected but wisely left me alone after that.

I groaned and got off the couch I’d been sleeping on, slumping to the bathroom. The boys were sitting around the tiny table, already dressed and looking at their laptops.

Sam was gone when I came out, freshly showered, dressed and feeling slightly more human. I looked at Dean with a clear question on my face.

“He’s gone for coffee, thought you could use some.”

“Thanks.”

“I, uh,” Dean continued, more hesitantly, “I owe you an apology.”

I crossed my arms across my chest. An apology from Dean was a rare thing, but I was wary it was going to end up being a backhanded insult instead. I often felt like I needed to protect my heart from being hurt by him.

“I was worried about you getting hurt when I saw you were drunk. But I just tried to solve the problem, I didn’t actually talk to you, and I,” he paused, biting his lip, “I shouldn’t do that.”

“Nice to see I’m just a problem,” I replied sarcastically. I wasn’t sure why he was riling me so much, but I still felt so hurt and angry.

He stood up and came over to me. “You’re not a problem,” he said quietly, trying to look into my eyes. I ducked my head away from the intensity of his look. “And I am sorry that asshat upset you.”

“I didn’t get drunk just because some guy called me pregnant, you know.” I could hear how defensive I sounded, despite my best efforts not to.

“It’s a shitty thing he did anyway. You’re beautiful.”

I laughed mirthlessly.

“Don’t do that,” he said quietly. “Don’t put yourself down all the time.”

“Dean, your idea of beautiful is tall, thin, busty and great hair.”

“That’s not true.”

“Well, they’re all thin at least.”

“Who are ‘they’?”

“The women you sleep with, the women you hit on.”

“I can think of many women I’ve hit on who aren’t ‘thin’, it doesn’t matter to me.”

“Suuuure,” I said with an eye roll.

“But I haven’t hit on many women lately, been distracted by one in particular.”

“Let me guess, beautiful?”

“Absolutely.”

“My point exactly. It’s ok Dean, you don’t have to ma-” Dean’s fingers found my chin, nudging it up so I would like at him.

“You’re beautiful,” he said, looking deep into my eyes. “I’m sorry I haven’t made you feel it.”

I stared at him, mouth agape. Absolutely stunned into silence.

“And I’m sorry again that I was a bit of a dick yesterday.”

His face came even closer, watching my reactions.

“You’re my weak spot,” he whispered.

“No, I’m not.” I put my hands on his chest, “Dean, this isn’t funny, don’t tease me.”

He dropped his hand from my chin, looking hesitant. “Sweetheart, I’m putting my heart on the line here, I’m not teasing.”

My hands slackened.

He edged a tiny bit forward.

His tongue darted out and back in. I couldn’t stop staring at his lips.

Was this even real?

How was this happening?

His hand came up to cup my cheek.

I leant forward.

The world suddenly sped up again. Dean moved in, closing the gap between us and bringing his lips to mine. I lost myself in the tenderness of his touch, the softness of his lips, the  exploration of his tongue and mine.

A sudden noise made us pull apart. Sam was standing in the doorway, cardboard holder with coffees in one hand and the other on his hip.

“I’m happy for you guys and all, but we still have a case to work. You can pick this up later.”

.

.

.

Dean Winchester taglist

@mrsjenniferwinchester

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Everything Supernatural taglist

@leigh70

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[bkgml]

drunk katsuki!

katsuki hates drinking.

he hates not having a filter on his thoughts. he hates the thought of someone getting injured while he was too drunk to protect them.

though, the thing he hates most right now, is the fact that you’re not beside him. you had to work late tonight and told katsuki to go out with his friends. maybe you’d come later in the night but it’s plausible that you’d be much too tired.

katsuki never let’s himself get drunk.

he’s missing you though. let’s himself have more drinks than he should’ve so he could make up for the fact that you’re not there.

it takes two hours for kiri (tonight’s designated driver) to notice katsukis drunk.

at first glance he looks like his normal self, arms crossed in front of him, frown on his face.

if you take a closer look though, his crossed arms are actually hugging himself and his frown is more of a pout.

“bakubro! what’s up!” he says, making his way over to him.

katsuki lets out a little grumble? whine?? kiri isn’t sure.

“where’s my girl?” katsuki frowns, looking around the bar.

kirishima lets out a little laugh and bakugou glares at him.

“yn’s working tonight, remember? she should be back home by now, but she’s tired, long day.”

“stupid fuckin work. i want her with me.” katsuki pouts, his voice getting softer.

“you’ll see her tomorrow! just enjoy the party tonight!” kirishima attempts to cheer up his friend.

katsuki whips his head in kirishimas direction.

“tomorrow? i won’t see her tonight??” he sounds desperate.

“uh no, bro. first thing tomorrow, promise.”

“i need her now, kiri.” katsuki pleads.

kirishima pauses. when had he ever called him kiri? or begged??

“um i mean i could call her?” kirishima offers.

“yeah! yesyesyeysyes.” he slurs.

you are so tired. you want to go to sleep so bad right now. you were supposed to go to the bar with your friends but, god, you’re so tired.

*incoming call from: kiri*

you groan. that’s probably kiri trying to get you to the bar.

“hey, yn. im sorry if i woke you” he doesn’t sound like his normal cheery self.

“hey, normally you’d be yelling in my ear to get me to party. is everything alright? where’s katsuki?” you say, concerned.

“put it on speakerrrrr.” a distant voice calls to kirishima.

“alright, alright. yn we’re on speaker now.”

you can hear the sounds of the bar in the background, mina and kami squealing at each other, the clanging of beer bottles, the tv in the back with some sports game on it.

“ynnnnnn.” katsuki says, interrupting your train of thought.

“katsuki? are you drunk??” you say, stunned.

“that’s not importanttttt. why aren’t you hereeee, you’re so warm and soft, want you here.” you can practically hear his pout. katsukis never drunk.

“kirishima? why is he drunk?”

“i don’t know, this is new to me. would you pick him up? it doesn’t look like he wants to be here-“

“HEY DONT IGNORE ME!” katsuki shouts.

“hey kiri can you pass the phone to him?”

kirishima does as he’s told.

“babyyyyyy, *hiccup* why aren’t you here with me? want your pretty face beside me all the time.”

“i know, kats, i wanna be with you all the time too. i’m going to come get you okay? you should keep quiet until i get there cause kami’s going to record you if he sees you.” you say to avoid arguments between katsuki and kaminari the following day.

“mmmkay. i’ll always listen to you, pretty. you’re so smart.” katsuki says, dazed.

“okay, bye, katsuki, bye kiri!” you say, grabbing your keys.

when you arrive at the bar you text kirishima to bring katsuki to the car.

a couple minutes go by and kirishima comes out, holding katsuki close beside him.

you get out of the car to meet them.

“yn!!” katsuki cheers.

“hi, kats, did you have too many drinks?”

“nu uh.” he defends.

“here you go.” kirishima says as he gently pushes katsuki to you.

he leans on you, arms around your waist, and face in your neck.

you rub his back.

“hi.” katsuki says shyly, rubbing his nose into your neck.

“hi.” you whisper back.

“thanks a lot, kiri.” you say, grateful for your friend.

“anytime! see you guys!” kirishima waves and turns on his heel, heading back into the bar.

“where do you want to sit katsuki? beside me? or in the back so you can lay down?” you ask.

“wanna sit beside you.” he says, pecking your cheek.

you struggle to get him in his seat, with him not wanting to stop holding you.

“okay, there you go katsuki. i’m just going to go around to my seat, kay?” trying to get him to let go of your arm.

“mmmmmfh. fine.” he huffs, letting go of your arm to cross his own, and turning his head away from you.

you close his door, walking around to your side and getting in.

“hi!” katsuki uncrosses his arms and reaches out to grab you hand.

seems he forgot he was mad.

“hi.” you say, lovingly smoothing his hair.

as you drive home katsuki leans over the console to rest his head on your shoulder.

“we’re home, kats!” you say, excited to get in bed.

“home?” he questions.

“uh huh, come on let’s go inside.” you get out of the car, heading to his door and opening it for him.

he sighs in relief.

“i thought you were going in without me.” he pouts and you laugh.

“without you? never. i need my favourite boy inside with me.” you say and grab his hand, helping him step out of the car.

as you unlock the front door katsuki presses his cheek to your back and holds your waist.

“okay katsuki, can you walk to the bedroom alone? i just want to get you some water.” you say heading to the kitchen.

you grab a glass and pour some water into it. then, you head out past the front hall on your way to the bedroom but you still see katsuki standing in the front hall.

“what’s up, kats, why aren’t you in the bedroom?” you ask.

“don’t wanna go without you.” he pouts.

you laugh.

“okay.” you grab his hand.

“let’s go together then, yeah?” you say, walking to your room hand in hand.

“mmm bed.” katsuki says as you get into your bedroom, flopping onto the bed in his clothes,

“don’t fall asleep yet, katsuki.” you say.

“fine.” he says sitting up.

you give him his glass of water to drink.

then you make him stand up and undress him to his boxers.

“why’re you trying to see me naked?” he laughs to himself.

“you like what you see?”

“get in bed, katsuki.” you laugh.

“you come too?” he asks.

“uh huh, move over.” you say patting his thigh.

he moves so you can get in.

as you shuffle into the sheets and pull the covers over the two of you, katsuki sits up on his forearms so he can lay between your legs with his head on your chest.

“hi.” he says, eyes closing.

“hi.” you whisper back, threading your fingers through his hair.

[lotusunique]

Nights like this pt.2

Armando Aretas x Black Fem! Reader

Sorry this took a lil minute to come out guys I had to proof read! Enjoy my loves💋🌺

“He don’t wanna be saved, don’t save em. That is not my nigga don’t claim him”, You rap along to Megan thee stallion. You weren’t really the dancing in public type but you were already six or seven shots in,which meant you were letting loose.

As you dance against Kelly, absolutely having the time of your life, you spot a guy staring at you from across the dance floor.

“Go dance with him”,Kelly says. “Girl if you wanna go dance on your man that’s all you gotta say.”,you say playfully as you continue to dance. “Now you know that’s not what I meant”,She laughs. “Mhm, girl you can go dance with your man. I’m gonna go get another drink”, you smile before making your way over to the bar.

“Can I please get a sex on the beach”,you beam, your cheeks flushed from the liquor already settling in. The guy from earlier quickly appears beside you.

“You can put hers on my tab”,he says to the bartender before turning to you. “Thanks but you didn’t need to do that”,you give a small smile.

“It’s no problem. I was wondering if you’d like to dance with me.”,he says as you sip from the fruit filled drink.

You look around,realizing Armando still wasn’t here. You let out a small sigh, “Sure”, before finishing your drink. Before you know it, you’re in the middle of the dimly lit club, dancing on a random stranger. For some reason you had wished Armando was there, being the one holding you.

But you shrugged the thought off. He decided not to follow through on his word so fuck him.

“I never got your name”,The stranger says. “Y/n”,you say still dancing against him. “Nice to meet you pretty girl, I’m Eric”,he says spinning you around. You let out a laugh, “Thank you Eric”.

The casual dancing turns into serious sensual dancing as “Wus Good/Curious” by Partynextdoor starts to play.

“Ride me (Ride me), 'til I'm ('Til I'm)

'Bout to ('Bout to), cum (Cum)

PND’s vocals sing as Eric’s hands start to move softly up and down your body, the liquor making his touch feel even softer than it actually is. You gently grind your hips into his.

What you didn’t know is that while you were so caught up with your new boo, Armando was watching you across the club the entire time.

With a deep gruff , he realized he’d seen enough when he saw this random dude place his hands on your ass.

Out the corner of your eye you spot, someone walking up to you. You feel a strong tug on your arm. You look up in confusion before realizing it’s Armando.

“Um why are you on me Mando”,you ask, your words slurring somewhat. He gives you a confused glance. Seeming as you’ve never called him Mando you had to be drunk. “I’m taking you home, you’re already drunk as is”,he says clearly heated.

“Bruh let her go”,Eric attempts to “defend” you, which you find adorable. “Eric it’s fine, we’re friends from work”,you say coldly. Armando feels the chill in your tone, cutting him deep in a way. The two of you walk outside the club, to talk somewhere more private.

“What is your problem”,you shake him off you. “The fuck you mean what’s my problem.”,he asks looking at you like you’re crazy. “Exactly what the fuck I just said”,you cross your arms.

Girll that liquor got you putting some base in your voice!

“You have no right to feel any type of way about ANY of the choices I make.”,you explode. He takes a step back almost shocked at what’s coming out your mouth. “Yea that’s right. Be shook nigga”,You roll your eyes.

“First off I waited all night for you like some fuckin idiot. Just for you not to show up. Someone takes interest in me, someone wants to fuck me, and now you got a problem with it? It’s not like you were gon be the one doing it”, you spout. He narrows his eyes at you while listening to you rant.

“You play this game with me where you get under my skin, make me think you feel something for me just to turn around and play with my emotions. And truly you got me fucked up. I don’t give a damn if you are Armando Aretas with all the bitches on

you-“

You’re cut off by Armando grabbing your face and kissing you passionately. The taste of his soft lips, sweet and supple, shocks you, you’d only dreamt of this moment never expecting it to actually come true.

Leaning into his hands and into the kiss you feel rain start to drizzle before the two of you pull away. You look at him in complete awe of the events that just occurred. He stares down at you, wondering how it ever took him so long to make his move.

“Now this right here is some romantic shit”,You look up at the beautiful scene unfolding around you, causing you the two of you to laugh. “Look I don’t care about anybody else . I want you and only you. Seeing him with his hands on you, got me heated okay”, he explains.

You look up at him wondering if this is real or not. Armando eyes you with a huge smile upon his face, unbeknownst to you, he’s studying how beautiful you look.

“And I’ll kill any pendejo that even thinks about looking at you y/n”, he says, looking down at you.

Without even giving a response, you smash your lips into his. He pulls away before whispering, “Pero para responder a tu pregunta, si fuera por mí, te tendría aquí ahora mismo.”. (But to answer your question, if it it was up to me, I'd have you right here right now)

You look up at him, confused by what just came out of his mouth. Were you trippin’? Or did he just say he wanted to fuck you right here right now…

You squint your eyes at him, “Did you just say what I think you just said?”, you ask, thinking that you just imagined all of that. “I don’t repeat myself precioso “,he says with low eyes, just like last night in the office.

[illdowhatiwantthanks]

Hi!!! I love your Amelia and Emily fics so much, I’ve basically binged them 😂 I was wondering if I could request an Amelia x reader fic where maybe reader is like 6 months pregnant with her and Amelia’s first child and has a bad history with her dad and her dad comes into the hospital with his new wife and her kid and it just stirs bad feelings for reader and Amelia comforts her? Maybe autistic reader? Thank you so much!

Thank you so much! ���� I'm so, so glad you enjoy them! Also, thanks especially for an autistic!reader request, they're some of my favorites to write! Hope you enjoy! – illdowhatiwantthanks

The R Word

Amelia Shepherd x fem!autistic!reader Warnings: autism struggles, ableism, use of ableist slurs, overstimulation (the autism kind, not the sex kind), explicit language, pregnancy times (let me know if I've missed anything!) Word Count: 2.4k

Summary: It's a typical day working with a child in the ER when your estranged father shows up and makes you feel just as small and stupid and alien as he did when you were growing up. Amelia is there to comfort you and remind you of who you really are.

“No, Mommy!” the little girl wailed as she writhed on the hospital bed. “I want to go home!”

Her mom looked at you apologetically as she tried to soothe her child. You needed to get her vitals. Based on the mom’s description, you also probably needed to get IV fluids and an antiemetic in her. But you knew that wasn’t going to happen while the kid felt scared and overwhelmed. This wasn’t your first rodeo with kids in the ER. In fact, the other ER nurses often called you over when kids were difficult to work with. They called you the “bad kid whisperer.”

You knew better. They weren’t bad kids. They were usually just scared. There was a lot to be scared of at a hospital. And you were good with them because you understood better than most what it was like for your body and brain to feel so overwhelmed that you could no longer regulate your emotions. Being autistic was hard sometimes, it made you stand out, but this was a place where it made you stand out in a good way.

You lifted your hands to show the little girl that you were setting down all your medical instruments.

“It’s okay,” you said quietly, pulling the curtain closed around the bed. Sometimes making the space smaller helped. You bent down to her height, careful to keep your distance and not to touch her.

“I’m Y/N,” you said. “What’s your name?”

The girl didn’t answer, shaking as she sobbed.

You nodded. “It’s okay if you don’t want to talk right now. Do you feel like you can’t breathe or anything?”

The girl shook her head.

“Good. Then all this other stuff can wait, okay? I’m not gonna touch you. No needles, no thermometer, no heartbeat or anything until you feel a little calmer. We can wait.”

She seemed to calm down a bit when she realized you weren’t going to make her do anything, her sobs subsiding to the occasionally aggressive sniffle.

“Here,” you offered, pulling a tiny tech deck skateboard out of the pocket of your scrubs. “Sometimes when I’m scared or nervous, having something to do with my hands makes me feel better.” You rolled the skateboard toward her, and she started running it across the rails of the hospital bed, her breathing starting to calm.

“Better?” you asked.

She nodded.

You started taking her vitals and continued the conversation. “You think you can tell me your name now?”

“Maddy,” she whispered.

You smiled even as you read her temperature: 103.4. Pretty high. She was almost certainly dehydrated. “That’s a really cool name. Now, do you know why your mom brought you here?”

“I threw up,” she told you, lip quivering.

“Oh, man,” you commiserated. “That’s the worst. I hate throwing up.”

Maddy nodded.

“Did you throw up just one time or a lot of times?”

“A lot.”

You exchanged glances with the mom to make sure this information was accurate.

“She can’t keep anything down,” the mom worried, biting her nails.

“Okay. Well, that’s okay. We’re gonna help you feel better. First, we’re gonna get some fluids in you. Do you know what that means?”

She shook her head as you gathered the supplies and pulled on gloves.

“It means your tummy is so sick that when you drink water, it all just comes right back out. And that’s not good because your body needs water. Your heart and your lungs and all the things that make you healthy and strong, they need water. So since you can’t swallow it, we’re gonna put a little tube in your arm and send water through the tube. That way your body gets the water it needs. And we’ll send medicine and electrolytes and all kinds of other good stuff to fight the sickness, too. It’s like we’re sneaking weapons past the sick.”

This explanation seemed to cheer her up a bit. “Like a secret mission?” she asked.

You nodded conspiratorially. “Exactly like a secret mission. But to get all that good stuff in there, we’re gonna have to put a needle in your arm. Just for a second! It makes the path for the supplies to go in.”

Maddy seemed to think deeply about this, then nodded. You had her play with the skateboard while you placed the IV line, ensuring that she was comfortably positioned for a good hour or so of fluid intake.

“Thank you,” her mom mouthed to you, and you gave her a quick thumbs up before adding a few reminders to your chart–what to check in the next hour, etc.

Maddy, now calmer, took a good look at you for the first time, from your glasses to your fingers that twitched by your ears, to your stomach that protruded out past your waistline–you were six months pregnant.

“Why are you so fat?” Maddy blurted out.

“Madeline Grace!” her mom hissed.

“It’s okay,” you laughed. “My tummy looks like this because there’s a baby in there. But some tummies are just bigger than others, too, and that’s okay. All tummies are good tummies.”

“Where’s the daddy?” she asked, reaching out to brush her hand over your stomach.

“No daddy,” you explained. “This baby has two mommies. His other mommy works upstairs. On brains.”

“Brains!?” she squealed.

You nodded. “Yeah. She’s pretty cool.”

Just then, the relative calm of a midday ER was interrupted by a loud, brash voice, bursting through the doors, yelling at the nurses at the station.

“Where the fuck is my daughter!? Middle of the fucking work day. Unbelievable. Am I going too fast for you? Read my lips, sweetheart. Madeline. Y/L/N.”

You froze, any icy stream of panic running from the back of your neck all the way down to your heels. You’d know that voice anywhere. It was an angry voice, a coach’s voice, the voice that had yelled at you to “stay the fuck in the bleachers” when all you wanted was to sit in the car and breathe. The same voice that growled at you to stop “doing that shit with your hands, you look like a r*tard.” The same voice that told you over and over that you weren’t “stupid enough to be on the short bus,” but you were “too stupid to function in real life.”

You felt your brain start swirling, felt panic building in your chest. You knew he’d gotten remarried, of course you knew. But you didn’t talk to him, hadn’t talked to him in nearly a decade. You knew they’d had a kid, but you didn’t know it was this kid.

All the ER noises, the beeps of the machines, the buzzing of the overhead lights–were they getting brighter?–the clang of instruments being set down, wails, conversations, and above it all your dad’s voice. Your dad’s voice. It was too much. It was all way, way too much.

You felt your hands start to shake at your sides, your body swinging back and forth, and you had to stop. You had to stop. Your dad would kill you.

He threw back the curtain, and his jaw dropped when he saw you.

“You!?” he spat, looking down. “Are you pregnant!?”

Maddy seemed oblivious to the tension. “Daddy!” she called. “Her name is Y/N and she gave me this little skateboard and the water is fighting the sickness through my tubes and she has a baby in her tummy and the baby’s other mommy fixes brains.”

You tried so hard not to stim, but it was not working. 

“Don’t tell me you’re a nurse?! God, it’s a miracle you didn’t fucking stab her. You shouldn’t be holding any needles with those flappy arms. Probably shouldn’t be holding any babies either.” He shot out his hand and grabbed Teddy’s arm, which was wild to you. The audacity of the man to assume he had the authority to bother the trauma surgeon. “Yeah, honey, we need a different nurse over here. This one’s a r*tard.”

Teddy looked flabbergasted and deeply offended, but also concerned, as you clenched your teeth, hugging yourself, twisting your body back and forth. “It’s doctor, sir, and that word is not welcome at Grey-Sloan. Y/N is a perfectly capable medical professional. In fact, she’s one of our best, especially with kids.”

“I don’t know if you know this, but I feel like it’s my responsibility to tell you,” your dad whispered loudly to Teddy. “She’s got autism. She shouldn’t be handling tools or people or anything.”

Teddy pressed her lips together in frustration. “As I said, sir,” she repeated more forcefully. “Y/N is a perfectly capable medical professional, and we’re lucky to have her. But I’ll get another nurse over here for you. Y/N?”

Teddy beckoned you over, careful not to touch you, and led you to a quieter corner of the room.

“Who the fuck is that guy?!” she asked.

“M-my dad,” you stuttered. Everything in the room–sounds, lights, smells, all of it–seemed to be crashing over you again and again. As if you’d been knocked over by a wave and couldn’t get back up again because they just kept coming.

“You want to hang out in one of the on-call rooms for a bit?” Teddy suggested.

You nodded.

“Should I page Amelia?”

You shook your head. “She’s in surgery.”

Teddy pulled out her tablet to look. “I mean, we could just check.”

“Don’t bother her,” you repeated. “She’s got work to do. I’ll be okay.”

You made your way to the elevator and up to an on-call room, breathing heavily when you shut the door against the rest of the hospital. You turned off the lights, curling into a corner of the bottom bunk and pulling your knees up to your chest–or as close to your chest as they could get with your baby bump in the way.

You rocked yourself back and forth, thoughts spiraling. The movement and the dark usually calmed you down, but you were having a hard time regulating today, and nothing seemed to be working. Your breath just got faster and faster. And the fact that you couldn’t get yourself out of your spiral only made you spiral more.

You knew you were a good nurse. You knew that. You knew because you’d done it. But you hadn’t ever been a mom before. What if he was right? What if the baby made you overstimulated and you yelled or lashed out? What if the baby went to school and you went to parent nights and he was embarrassed of you, of how you couldn’t make eye contact and didn’t start conversations right and didn’t get the jokes. What if being autistic made you a bad mom?

You had tears streaming down your face by the time you heard a light knock on the door. It creaked open and Amelia’s head popped in. When she saw it was you, she quickly let herself in and locked the door.

“Oh, babe,” she said, watching your body rock back and forth in huge, aggressive sweeps. “A bad one, huh?”

“Go away, Amelia,” you hiccuped.

“Hey,” she said, jokingly. Then when she got closer and saw the tear tracks on your face, she said it again, quieter, sitting next to you on the bed. “Hey.”

When you didn’t say anything, Amelia shrugged. “Teddy said your… dad was here?”

You nodded.

She let out a deep breath, running a hand through her hair. “Honey, will you let me hold you? Please?”

You nodded again.

“Alright,” she said, waiting for your body to line up with hers as you rocked, then quickly grabbing you up in her arms, like she was catching something midair. “Gotcha.” She rocked with you.

“What did he say?” she asked, her breath warm on the top of your head.

“That I shouldn’t hold medical tools or babies because I’m a fucking re– I don’t want to say it. I hate that word.”

You felt Amelia’s arms tighten around you, and her breath came out in huffs. She was very angry. “As you should,” she told you. “It’s a nasty word. And it’s a word that doesn’t describe you at all, you know that.”

“I don’t know, Amy,” you whispered into her chest. “What if he doesn’t like me?”

“Babe, I think that ship has sailed,” Amelia said, running her fingers through your hair.

“Not my dad,” you explained. “The baby.”

Amelia was quiet for a moment, then you felt her lips press against the top of your head.

“Oh, honey,” she said, her voice soft. “Of course he’ll like you. He’ll love you. You're his mom.”

“But what if I’m bad at it? What if autism makes me bad at it?”

“Y/N,” Amelia said, gently grabbing your face and positioning it so that you had to look in her general direction, if not in her eyes. “Look how good you are with the kids in the ER. You’re gonna be an incredible mom.”

“I’m just scared,” you admitted.

“I’m a little scared, too,” Amelia told you. “But you know what? I think we’re gonna be okay. Me and you together? I mean, surely, combined, we can be at least one whole good mom, right?”

You giggled.

Amelia grinned at you. “There she is.”

You were quiet for a moment, playing with Amelia’s finger, with the edges of her scrubs.

“You know what you are?” Amelia asked after a bit, kissing your forehead. “You are smart and kind and empathetic. You’re funny and brave and you work hard. You’re my favorite person in the whole world.”

You looked away.

“Hey,” she said, pulling your face back toward her again. “I don’t like people talking about my wife like that. Even you.”

You nodded, wrapping your arms around her waist and pressing your face to her chest.

“Are you going back down there?” Amelia asked.

You shrugged.

“Want me to check if your dad’s still here?”

“Would you?”

“Oh, yeah,” she said, standing and placing one more kiss on your cheek. “In fact, I’d really like to talk to him.”

“Don’t do anything that’ll get you fired, Amy,” you called after her.

She looked back at you and winked as she walked through the door. “Can’t make any promises.”

[ginax0916]

✮‧₊˚✩ 𝐇𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐤 ✩‧₊˚✮

Little Sister (8yrs old) x triplets

Genre - Sorta Angst & Fluff

Synopsis - When the triplets little sister has been staying with them for a month but she suddenly feels home sick but also guilty.

⋆˚✿˖°

Matt pov:

Our little sister y/n has been staying with us for a month since our parents wanted to go on vacation. We don’t mind it at all, it’s been pretty fun lately. It just gets hard when we have to film videos or go to meetings that she can’t be in.

“Y/n you ready to go?” Chris called out.

“Yes I’m so excited” She yelled as she ran down the hallway jumping into Chris’s arms.

He laughed and carried out to the car where Nick already was.

“Took y’all long enough” He grumpily said looking at me.

“Hey don’t look at me! It’s y/n who took so long” I lifted my hands in defense.

“Matt! No I didn’t I was very quick!” She protested slurring her words a little as she talked.

“Yes you did sis don’t listen to them” Chris took her side as her buckled her into her car seat and kissed her cheek.

It’s clear that Chris has a favorite sibling.

LS Pov:

My brothers were taking me to Canes for lunch. It’s not much, but to me it’s the best food in the world. A lot of my friends seem to not like it but I don’t understand how! It’s too good.

I remember how mom would take me to this other restaurant in Boston that also had chicken tenders and we would order a big plate and share. I miss her.

Or when dad would take me to the dinner back in town to eat waffles for breakfast every Saturday. I miss him too.

But I’m with my brothers I shouldn’t be missing my parents right?

“Ok we’re here!” Matt yells.

I’m only 8 which means I still have to sit in a car seat. It’s so stupid I’m sure I could be a big girl and seat on the actual seat. I can’t even get out of the car without the help of my brothers because for some reason I can’t get the seatbelt to unlock.

“You exited?” Matt says as he helps me out of the car.

“Yes very” I reply as I take his hand.

“Awwww look how cute they look! She looks so small compared to Matt!” I hear Nick say behind us and a camera click.

We get a table and we order our food. But as we wait a woman that I could’ve sworn was mom walked in.

“Is that mommy?” I ask my brothers. They all turn their head to look at the woman.

“No y/n it’s not. Moms in Hawaii with dad remember?” Nick laughs.

“Oh yea sorry” I say now embarrassed.

“Hey it’s ok I thought it was her too at first” Matt comforts me. I smile at him and rest my head on his arm since he was sat next to me.

I start to feel sleepy since I haven’t taken my daily nap yet. I do everything to keep my eyes open but nothing works. They fall shut and I start to loose consciousness.

“Hey baby wake foods here” Matt rubs my back waking me up.

“Yay” I say in a tired voice as I sit up from Matt. My hair all messed up and my eyes still closed.

“Good nap?” They all laugh and I do too.

As we eat our food I see a little girl walk in with her mom. They’re holding hands and they’re laughing together. She’s holding a shopping bag so it looks like they went to the mall together. It reminds me of me and mom. Is it bad that I really miss her? I shouldn’t miss her I’m with my brothers that I only see once in a while since they live in L.A.

“You ok?” Chris asks.

“Mhm” I nod.

We were just waiting on the check when I see a man walk in. He walks over to the table where the girl and her mom are. He’s the dad. They all sit together and the girl is laughing with her dad and the mom seems to be taking pictures of them. I miss my dad too. I miss being home and going out to eat with my parents. I feel so guilty about missing home because my brothers are doing so much to take care of me. I shouldn’t feel this way.

I feel tears well up in my eyes but I quickly blink them away before my brothers realize.

“Can we go now?” I quietly ask.

“Uh yea come on” Matt says confused at my sudden change of emotion.

As we walk out I feel two pairs of arms launch me up in the air. I start giggling and screeching like crazy and I’m thrown in the air and back down.

“You want ice cream?” Chris says as he holds me instead of launching me.

“No not really” I reply as I rest my head in the crook of his neck.

“What you always want ice cream” He says stunned.

“I’m full I don’t really want any” I lie. Truth is I do want ice cream I just don’t wanna see more families there that will remind me of home.

“Ok so what ice cream place do we go to?” Nick asks looking at Chris who’s carrying me.

“Uhh she said she doesn’t want ice cream so just go back home I guess” Chris replies.

“What? But y/n you always want ice cream” Matt questions.

“That’s what I said” Chris chuckles.

“I just don’t want it ok!” I say with a ruder tone.

“Ok ok Sorry we’ll go back home” Matt replies looking at Chris and Nick confused.

Once we get home I run into the room where I have been staying and jump onto the bed quickly getting a hold of the stuffed animal my parents gave me. It’s a little frog which is my favorite animal. My dad had sprayed his cologne on it so it would smell like him. And my mom had put one of her bracelets as a necklace on it. So I just laid there on my bed hugging my little frog while looking at a picture of my parents and I. Tears threatened to spill out of my eyes. I miss home.

Nick pov:

I have been editing videos since we got back from lunch. I usually hear y/n laughing or screaming with either Matt or Chris as they play a game or watch a movie. But today it was silent. More silent than it’s ever been. I also don’t hear her little footsteps running around the house which is odd. She had started to act weird after the comment she made about the woman at Canes. And she didn’t want ice cream, which she always wants. I start going downstairs to ask Matt and Chris about it. I see them both sitting on the couch watching Sam and Colby on the t.v.

“Fuck you scared me” Chris yells.

“That’s what you get for watching paranormal videos at 9 pm dumbass” I laugh.

“Ok but on serious note have you guys noticed how down y/n looks today?” I ask them while sitting down at the end of the couch.

“I did yea she seemed upset after lunch” Matt adds on.

“She hasn’t come out of her room since we got back from lunch” Chris comments.

“I think we need to go check on her c’mon” I say standing up heading to her room.

Chris Pov:

I open the door to her room to find y/n asleep hugging her frog stuffed animal with one hand, and hugging a picture with her, mom and dad on it.

“Oh baby” I hear Matt say as he sits next to her on the bed. Nick and I following after him.

“Hmm?” Y/n hums as she starts to wake up.

“You ok?” I ask.

“You guys promise you won’t get mad at me for it?” Y/n sniffles as her eyes start to get glossy.

“We promise” Nick says.

“I- I just really miss mommy and daddy” She starts to cry. Matt quickly wraps his arms around her.

“Hey hey it’s ok” Matt quietly whispers to her as her soft cries are muffled by his sweatshirt.

“Why would we ever get mad at you for missing mom and dad?” I ask her as I pick her up her tiny hand and she wraps her small fingers around mine.

“Because I feel guilty that I really miss home when I’m with you guys” Y/n softly says as she snuggles into me.

“Oh sweetheart you don’t have to feel guilty. It’s ok to miss home. You’re still a kid and you’ve never been away from mom and dad for so long. We’re not mad at all cuz we feel like that sometimes too” Matt says while running his fingers through her hair, something that always calms her down since she was a baby.

“So you’re not mad?” Y/n asks.

“Of course we not y/n. We can FaceTime them together later” Nick chuckles and joins the hug.

“We love you always” I say and kiss her forehead.

“I love you always too” Y/n giggles.

✫・ 。.・゜✭・.・

Opinions on this??

[estrellami-1]

Steddie Week 2023

May 28th Prompt: Free Space

Day 1, Day 2, Day 3, Day 4, Day 5, Day 6

@steddie-week

(Warning for queer slurs, but spoken in love, if that makes sense?)

“I hate you,” Robin hisses, eyes glassy. She covers her mouth, shakes her head. “Steve. Holy shit.”

He’s looking at her with an unreadable expression. His eyes are also glassy. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. He’s gonna love it. Fuck. Fuck you, dingus, I didn’t want to cry today.”

He laughs, then, and gathers her into his arms. “Thanks for letting me practice on you, Robbie.”

“I’m never doing that again. Holy shit.”

Steve smirks. “It’s alright. I promise to cry whenever you practice on me for Vickie.”

She pinches his side. He elbows hers. “Let me know when you decide to do it, yeah? I’ll steal Jon’s camera.”

Steve snorts. “Just borrow it like a normal person, Robs.”

“Literally when have I ever been normal.”

“…Fair point.” He shifts. “You think he’s gonna like it? For real?”

“If he doesn’t like it I’m taking your nail bat and practicing with his head.”

“Robin, oh my god.” He laughs, probably more than the joke warrants—especially considering he’s not entirely sure she’s joking—but he’s so relieved. “I love you.”

“Yeah, yeah. Love you too, dingus. Just tell me when.”

“Um. Tomorrow night, actually. I’m taking him back to Hawkins, to the quarry.”

She makes a face. “Why there?”

“It was our first date. We had a picnic.”

“Oh my god,” Robin says, then her eyes widen. “Wait. Steve. Steve. You have a ring.”

Steve laughs, digs his hand into his pocket. “I was wondering when you’d ask.”

“Oh, fuck you,” she says, grabbing at his hand and peeling his fingers open, grabbing the ring as soon as she can, turning it and inspecting it. She frowns a little, looking intently at the inside. “What-”

Steve smiles. “I love you in Elvish.”

“You’re both suck dorks.” She looks up at him, smiles. “He’s gonna absolutely love it.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. You know he’s head over heels for you.”

Steve blushes. “I still don’t know how.”

“Because you deserve it, dingus, you’re a good guy. A really good guy. And, according to everyone who likes guys, you’re extremely attractive.”

Steve laughs. “Thanks, Robin.”

“You’re welcome.”

A key in the lock startles them, and Robin slips the ring back into Steve’s pocket a second before the door opens. “Hey, sweetheart,” Eddie says, smiling at Steve, before turning to smirk at Robin. “Hey, freeloader.”

She squawks and launches herself at him, clinging on like a koala. “I’ll show you freeloader.”

“Oh my god get off of me you weigh a ton, Stevie, baby, help me!”

Steve just laughs. “You brought this upon yourself, babe.”

“Ah!” Eddie winces. “Jesus, Robs, elbows! In my spleen! How the fuck did you even do that, you fucking contortionist?”

“Dick.”

“Dyke.”

“Faggot.”

“Jesus fuck,” Steve mutters, eyeing the two of them. “It’s impossible for there to be peace when you two are together, isn’t it?”

They both look at him and answer simultaneously. “Yes.”

They both laugh as Robin drops off of Eddie, pressing a kiss to his cheek as she ruffles his hair. He grins and kisses her forehead before moving to embrace Steve, wrapping him in a hug and kissing his temple. He sighs, long and content. “It’s good to be home.”

Steve chuckles. “Was today that bad?”

“No, just long. Dinner?”

“In the oven.”

Just then the timer dings, and Robin races past them, yelling over her shoulder, “I’ll get it!”

They both chuckle, then Steve kisses Eddie’s cheek. “Hey.”

“Hey yourself.”

“We’re going to Hawkins tomorrow.”

Eddie’s brows scrunch up. “What?”

“Hawkins. Tomorrow. I’m the one with hearing loss, babe.”

“Actually, with your hearing aids, I’m pretty sure you can hear better than I can.”

“Fuck off.”

“Mmm, no. Something about how you love me.”

Steve softens. “Something like that,” he agrees, pressing a soft kiss to Eddie’s lips, swaying them in place, like they’re dancing. “I already called off for you. And for me. It’s overnight, but just for a night. We’re gonna drive back the next day.”

Eddie smiles. “Am I ever gonna understand what goes on in your head?”

Steve laughs. “You already do. Sometimes you know me better than I know myself.”

Eddie nudged Steve’s nose with his own. “Something about how I love you.”

“Something like that,” Steve agrees, then lets Eddie seal their lips together.

That is, until a knitted potholder flies into their faces. “Dinner time,” Robin says brightly when they break apart, like she isn’t the reason for the airborne potholder.

“And you’re sure you can’t tell me why we’re going to Hawkins?” Eddie wheedles for what feels like the millionth time.

“Nope,” Steve says happily, popping the p. “You’ll just have to wait. Enjoy the suspense. I am.”

“You’re only enjoying it because you know where we’re going,” Eddie argues.

“Exactly,” Steve says, then takes Eddie’s hand. “You’re gonna love it, Eds. Please stop worrying.”

“I’m not worrying,” Eddie says, then slumps when Steve just turns an eyebrow on him. “Okay, maybe I’m worrying a little. But only a very little!”

Steve chuckles. “Sure, babe.” A few minutes later, he reaches up to turn the radio down. “How’d you feel about no music for a while?”

“Okay,” Eddie says immediately, looking at Steve. “Are you okay? Headache?”

Steve smiles, brings Eddie’s hand up to his mouth to kiss it. “No headache, I’m okay. I was actually wondering if you’d read to me for a bit.”

Eddie raises his eyebrows. “You brought a book?”

Steve hums. “In the backseat, blue bag.”

Eddie reaches back and rifles around for a minute, then looks at Steve with a delighted expression. “I’m kissing you as soon as you stop driving.”

Steve chuckles. “Duly noted. Start wherever you want.”

Eddie blinks. “I’m in the middle of this one.”

“I know.”

“You won’t have any idea what’s going on.”

“I like listening to you.”

“You’re a sap,” Eddie says, even more delighted. “Holy fuck, I love you. Okay, um, I’m on chapter ten. The choices of Master Samwise. Frodo was lying face upward on the ground and the monster was bending over him, so intent upon her victim that she took no heed of Sam and his cries, until he was close at hand. As he rushed up he saw that Frodo was already bound in cords, wound about him from ankle to shoulder, and the monster with her great forelegs was beginning half to lift, half to drag his body away.”

He continues reading, getting more and more into it, affecting accents for the different voices, slowing down for some parts and speeding up for others, and Steve thinks his heart might burst for how much he loves this man.

They arrive in Hawkins before too long, and the first thing they do—just like every time they have to go into Hawkins for whatever reason—is visit Wayne.

Eddie blinks when he opens the door. “What the fuck?”

Steve and Wayne share a look borne of knowing Eddie. “You alright, Wayne?”

Wayne waves him off, makes a face at his cane. “Fine. Slight accident at work, fell wrong, banged my hip. I still get around fine and I didn’t want you two worryin’ none.”

“That’s our job, old man,” Eddie says, pulling Wayne into a hug. “It’s good to see you.”

“It’s good to see you boys, too.” He hugs Steve next. “C’mon in, make yourselves at home, y’know the drill. Steve, you wanna grab us some beers?”

“Love to,” Steve replies with a chuckle, following Wayne inside.

They talk and catch up for a few minutes before Eddie excuses himself to use the restroom. “Your stuff’s in the pantry,” Wayne murmurs to Steve. “Want to run it out to the car before he gets back?”

“Oh,” Steve says, like he just realized. “I asked after you’d fallen, didn’t I?”

Wayne hums noncommittally. “Not like I minded. Was just about goin’ stir crazy with the time off work.”

Steve chuckles, leans in to hug Wayne, and goes to put the bag in the car.

A few minutes later they’re hugging goodbye. “Robin’s here to take pictures,” Steve murmurs in Wayne’s ear. “I’ll get her to drive you up to Indy for the dinner tomorrow.”

“‘Preciate it,” Wayne says, clapping Steve on the back before turning to Eddie. “Get in here, boy.”

Eddie laughs and hugs his uncle. “Love ya, Wayne.”

“You too, kid. Take good care of ‘im, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Eddie agrees. “We’ll see you later.”

“Mhm. You kids have fun.”

Eddie narrows his eyes at Steve as soon as they’re back in the car. “That wasn’t what we came down here for.”

“Nope,” Steve agrees. “You’ll see soon enough, Eds.”

Eddie sighs and collapses back into his seat. Steve just grins, wholly in love.

Soon, though, he sits up again, interest piqued. “Are we going to the quarry?”

“Got it in one.”

“Steve,” Eddie says slowly, suspiciously. “What are we doing here?”

Steve doesn’t answer for a few minutes, just plays with Eddie’s fingers with one hand, the other on the wheel, his eyes never leaving the road. “Remember the first time we went to the quarry?”

“Must’ve been eight years ago, now, huh?”

“Just about,” Steve agrees. “We were just kids, terrified and halfway in love and no clue about how our lives would turn out. But we made it. Against all odds, we made it.” He glances at Eddie, smiles. “Thought it would be kinda poetic, coming back here.”

“Yeah,” Eddie agrees softly, rapt attention on Steve.

“So,” Steve continues, shrugging. “There’s some stuff in the back. Thought it might be nice to have a picnic again. Just to take some time off and remember how it was back then, think about where we were versus where we are.”

“Ugh,” Eddie says, glassy-eyed. “What have you done to me, I used to be cool.”

Steve laughs. “You’ve always been a nerd, babe. Pretty sure I’m the only one who thinks you’re cool.”

“Well, joke’s gonna be on you when we have a kid and they think I’m the coolest dad ever.”

Steve blinks, smiling even as Eddie freezes beside him. “I bet they will, Eds.”

That small sentence is enough to release the tension coiling inside Eddie, flowing out and leaving him looking at Steve, besotted.

Steve parks and they make their way to the edge, a mirror of all those years ago. Steve unfolds a blanket and lays it out, thrusting the bag at Eddie. “Here, start getting the food out, please.”

Eddie’s eyebrows steadily climb higher as he unpacks. Sandwiches, fruits, brownies, and drinks. Both of their favorites, and Steve makes a mental note to do something for Wayne soon, because nobody deserves the actual angel that is Wayne Munson.

They eat and talk and joke around, and kiss—a lot—and just as they’re finishing, the first raindrop splatters down.

Steve looks up, dismayed, to see dark clouds all around them.

Eddie whoops and jumps up, packing everything up and stuffing it back in the car, before running back to Steve and swinging him around in a hug, laughing. “What,” Steve says, but he’s laughing too, because he can’t not be happy when Eddie’s happy.

Eddie stops, sets him down, and grabs both his hands, looking Steve in the eyes. “Do you remember a few days ago when we were watching Singing in the Rain?”

The last time they’d seen the movie was at least four months ago. “Sure.”

“And you were sighing, all forlorn, and I asked what was wrong? And you said you thought you would’ve liked to dance around with someone in the rain?”

Steve can’t help the laugh. “I’m in love with your brain. That was at least five years ago, Eds.”

Eddie frowns. “No, that can’t be right, that was like, a week ago.”

Steve laughs harder. He can’t tell if the water on his cheeks is rain or tears. He doesn’t really care. “It was at least five years ago,” he assures his boyfriend.

“Huh,” Eddie says, shrugging. “Okay, well, I waited and waited and waited and it never worked out. It either always rained while we were asleep or while we were at work, or if we weren’t either of those things, it was a thunderstorm, and I sure as hell wasn’t gonna take you out in that. So.” He grins, wide and unashamed, and bows, offering Steve a hand. “May I have this dance?”

Steve’s going to die and it’s going to be Eddie’s fault. His heart is just going to give out one day because it can’t take how much he loves Eddie. “Of course,” Steve answers, taking Eddie’s hand, and Eddie lights up, dragging Steve into a crushing hug and pressing their lips together in a bruising kiss. “I love you,” he murmurs against Eddie’s lips. His breath hitches. “I love you so much.”

“I love you so much,” Eddie responds softly, wiping away Steve’s tears. “Happy?”

“Beyond,” Steve answers, floundering for a way to tell Eddie exactly how he’s feeling. But then Eddie smiles at him, and his smile is wobbly, and Steve suddenly knows Eddie knows exactly how he’s feeling.

They sway together for minutes or hours or days, Steve doesn’t know or care, letting the rain on the leaves and the ground be the rhythm they move to, an unhurried dance that somehow means everything.

The rain eventually lets up, and Steve pulls away after a few minutes, so they’re holding hands. “I have a question.”

“Okay.”

“We’ve known each other for a little over eight years now. We saved the world and managed to fall in love in the middle of it. The Shire was burning, we defeated Sauron, and I carried you out of Mordor. Against all odds we made it out alive, and against all odds we made it out of the Shire, and against all odds we made it together. It’s been eight years and every one’s been an adventure. Every day has been an adventure with you. And I may not know what our lives may hold next, but I know whatever the adventure is, I don’t want to do it without you by my side.” He kneels, pulling out the ring, and Eddie gasps, tearing up.

“Stevie-”

“So,” he continues. “Eddie. I know we can’t legally get married. I don’t know if we’ll ever be able to, but I don’t care. I don’t need the government to tell me who I can and can’t marry. I love you, baby, and if you’ll have me, I’ll love you forever. Will you fuck the government and marry me?”

Eddie’s shaking. “That,” he manages after a minute, “was metal as fuck, baby.” He sniffs, shakes his head, and laughs. “Of course. Of course I’ll marry you. We’ll flip off the whole of the government together.”

“Hell yeah,” Steve says, grinning, and stands. “Before you put the ring on, though, there’s something I want you to see.” He turns it, points out the inscription on the inside, and Eddie tackles him with a yell, and they both go down laughing.

“Baby,” Eddie manages after a minute. “Holy shit. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

“Yeah?” Steve asks rhetorically, and they both watch as he slides the ring onto his fiancé’s finger.

It’s a perfect fit.

[jo6hny]

 She got my heartbeat. Skipping down 16th Avenue - Hazel Callahan

Pairing: College student! Hazel Callahan x College student! Reader 

Contains: fluff, hazel being woozy from meds, mentions of beating PJ up (i love her this was for the plot), somewhat idiots very in love, kissing!!!  

Summary: Based on this request.

Word Count: 2.3K

A/N: yay i managed to post this week! Onto the next request. Also, let me know if you’d like to be tagged onto future Hazel oneshots :) ! 

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“What the fuck happened?!” You exclaimed, barging into Hazel’s hospital room. 

Sylvie and the rest of the girls were there by her bedside, earnestly looking after the injured girl. They give you a look of pity and guilt. Everyone knew how protective you could get of your best friend. 

“Pretty girl, hello!” Hazel slurred, jolting upwards into a sitting position. Her heart rate monitor was spiking. She had taken several medications for her injuries and it made her loopy and out of her mind most of the time. 

Sylvie gently pushes her back down and interrupts Hazel. “Hey, she kind of got into a fight.” 

“Kind of?” You interject, your arms flailing in panic. Hazel looked like shit. Her lip was busted and her eye swollen. To add to this, her face had been colored purple and blue from several bruises around her face. The sight of her made your heartache and made you want to coddle the brunette. 

“We’re sorry this happened,” Isabel started, making her way to you. “It’s just that PJ and Josie tricked all of us into the fight club and Hazel had to fight the big guy. It’s a super long story.” 

“I’m gonna fucking kill PJ.” You muttered, feeling your eye twitch and your blood boil. You had never liked her, she had always left a bad taste in your mouth. It baffled you why Hazel always spoke so highly of her. Josie, you could get it. She was nice albeit awkward but she was never mean spirited like PJ was. 

“Noo not good, pretty. Bad.” Hazel interrupted. Even in her disheveled state she was defending PJ. It stung and you felt a sense of dejection. But you pushed it aside as you realize that you needed to step up and take care of her because no one else will. Hazel’s mom was vacationing god knows where and her dad was out of the picture a long time ago. She only had you. 

Making your way to her, the girls parted and offered you a seat beside her hospital bed. You had noticed that her heart rate monitor was incredibly high but figured that it was the leftover adrenaline from what ensued. 

“Hey Haze,” You whisper, voice cracking. “I’m gonna get you home, okay?” 

“Pretty girl going to take care ‘me?” She asked, she was slurring her words and it came out kind of whiny. 

A shy smile spread across your face. She had never called you pretty girl before. Sure, she was never shy of compliments but never outright like this. It made you wonder if there were truth to her words. 

You nodded, taking her hand. “Of course, Haze.” 

“Dude your heart rate keeps going up, I’m gonna call a nurse.” Sylvie observed, taking Isabel with her to get someone. She was genuinely concerned for Hazel, her heart rate kept going up especially when you came around which she found weird. 

“‘M face hurts.” Hazel said. Her breathing was shallow and she could barely open one eye. 

“I’m so sorry this happened to you, Haze.” You replied, rubbing her hand with your thumb. This was something you often did whenever you were nervous or apologetic. In return, Hazel would squeeze yours back three times as if to say it’s okay. At least that’s what you thought. 

The girls came back to the room with the nurse they found to assist Hazel. She was tall and looked kind. Almost reminiscent of Hazel’s mom without the flashy jewelry and short hair. 

“You say her heart rate was spiking?” The nurse asked, closely looking at her heart rate monitor. 

Sylvie nodded and pointed to you. “Yeah it started going up when she arrived.” 

The nurse looked at you with curiosity in her eyes and then she spotted your interlocked hands. The tips of her mouth perked up and her gaze glinted with mischief. 

“Huh,” She started, looking at you with a teasing gaze. “Must be leftover adrenaline from the fight.” 

“That’s what I thought so too.” You replied, feeling confident in your answer. It didn’t cross your mind to think that she might be hinting at something else. Why would she? She was a stranger and friends held hands all the time. Though, your heart rate definitely didn’t feel fast whenever you're holding other people’s hands, only with Hazel. 

“Sure.” The nurse said, turning her back from you. Her tone was sarcastic and it baffled you. But you brushed it aside, choosing to put your attention to Hazel instead. 

After some more checking, the nurse ruled out anything dangerous but told Hazel to be careful. And as her primary caretaker, you took it upon yourself to talk to the Nurse too. Just to find out what to do and when you could take your bestfriend home. The lady was nice enough to supply all the correct answers but not without sly remarks about “taking good care of your girlfriend”. Whatever that meant. Finally, she told you that Hazel would be able to go home tomorrow which gave you relief. It was gonna be hard work but you weren’t complaining as it was Hazel you were pouring your care onto. 

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Back at your dorm, Hazel occupies her side of the room and is slumped against her bed. Despite her wounds healing, she hadn’t been quite active; not like herself at all. You’d blamed the meds that the doctor prescribed, as well as the bruise the altercation might have left on her ego. 

“You look really pretty today.” Hazel said, complimenting you. This was her 10th compliment of the day and she didn’t show any signs of stopping. Again, something you blamed the meds on. She was all loopy and hallucinating. You didn’t look pretty at all today, body adorned with just a regular hoodie and sweatpants. 

“Mhm, sure Haze. Thank you.” You reply, sitting on her bed and taking out the supplies needed to tend to her wounds. 

Facing her, you inch closer towards your best friend and take a good look before reaching for her bruise medication. Her face still looked splotchy because of the bruises, but certainly better. 

“Thank you for taking care of me, I owe you a lot, pretty.” she mumbled, her one non swollen eye looking at you with affection. Hazel might have been on medication but she meant every compliment that came out of her mouth. In a way she was glad for it because it enables her to voice out her thoughts about you. 

“It’s okay. I would take care of you any day.” You reassure her, giving her a smile. It still breaks your heart whenever you recall what happened to her. She deserved so much better, especially after you learned about the argument her and PJ had prior to the fight. You wanted to beat the shit out of PJ so bad but restrained yourself because you knew that Hazel wouldn’t forgive you. But still, you can’t help but glare and stick your middle finger up at her whenever you pass each other by at the halls. 

“I’m gonna beat PJ up as payback for what happened to you, I swear to god.” You added, your voice was shaky. 

“Don’t.” Hazel replied, taking your hand in hers. She did it again, squeezed your hand thrice. It made your heart flutter. But at the same time, it saddened you how much she defended PJ. 

“Don’t defend her, Haze. She’s the reason you got hurt.” You reply defensively, intertwining your hand with hers. If you had a heart rate monitor at home, Hazel’s would have skyrocketed right now. She was praying that her pulse didn’t give anything away but you seemed to be distracted by the hate you had for her friend. 

“I’m not,” She started, staring her one eye at you. “It’s just that you’re too good for that, beautiful.” 

“Stop that.” You whisper, avoiding eye contact. You decide to distract yourself by opening up the treatment for her bruises and applying it onto her. 

“Stop what?” 

“You know, complimenting me. You’re too loopy from the meds.”

Hazel shakes her head, interrupting you from treating her wound. “That’s not true.” 

“Yes it is. I mean, you have been doing the same since the hospital.” You retort, trying to evade Hazel’s attempt at knocking at your heart. It wasn’t working, of course. Her admittance of her affection for you made you feel loopy. 

“It might have started at the hospital but it doesn’t mean that it isn’t true. I do think you’re beautiful and kind and gorgeous and the best person in the world.” She rambled on, listing positive things about you. 

The brunette’s confession shocked you, leading you to push down a bit harder on her bruise as you applied her medication. 

“Ow!” Hazel exclaimed, it felt like her bruise would resurface with the pressure you put on her face. 

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry!” You reply, frantically caressing her face as to apologize for accidentally hurting her. 

“It’s okay.” Hazel mumbled, bringing a hand up to her cheek. “Kinda hurts though.” 

“I’m really sorry. I’ll make it up to you, I swear.” 

Hazel’s eyebrows perk up at your offer. The cogs in her mind were working overtime and she was going to take a leap at what she was going to do but it would all be worth it. 

“I know how you can make it up to me.” She led on, a small smirk displayed on her face. She couldn’t quite smile as there were cuts on her lips that disabled her from doing so. 

“How?” You cocked your head to the side, curious to what her demands were. You felt really bad. To be fair, Hazel surprised you and she couldn’t just do that so suddenly, not when your hands were on her face. She knew how reactive you could get. 

“A kiss.” She beamed, proud of herself. 

You stare at her, bewildered. 

“We need to get you off those meds.” You mumble, putting away her ointment. This was you trying to hide your face that was sporting a blush. You could feel the warmth spread past your countenance and through your body. 

“I’m serious!” Hazel flailed, sitting upright. She had never been more serious in her entire life. She could come off as goofy most of the time but never with you. She had always tried her best whenever she was with you. You deserve the best things in life and she knew this. 

“Alright okay.” You caved, positioning yourself closer to her so that it was easier for your lips to attach themselves to her wounds. 

“Really?” The blue eyed girl questioned. She didn’t think she’d get this far. 

You hummed in response and made your way forwards, pressing a chaste kiss on the apple of her cheek right where the bruise was starting to shift colors. And then you planted another towards her swollen eye, careful not to put any pressure. Then, your lips found its ways towards hers. You hover over her lips, not quite sure if you should continue. 

“Please kiss me.” Hazel whispered, feeling a bit pathetic at her plea. But then again, this was all she ever wanted. To be near you and feel you. And if she were honest, she’d get beat up a thousand times again if it meant being under your tender care. 

At this, you press your lips onto hers. You were careful not to press too hard as you minded the cuts she obtained from the fight. But still, you kissed her with much love and yearning. With all of the pent up feelings you had for your best friend. She tasted like skittles. The only thing she’d enthusiastically eat during these past few days that she’d rested. 

“Do you feel better now?” You ask, parting your lips from hers. The beating of your heart was loud and you could physically feel your heart thump against your chest. 

“Well,” She said, as if in deep thought. “I think you need to kiss me more, to be honest. I don’t feel too well.” 

You laugh at her attempt to convince you to kiss her again. It worked, though. Obviously. But it was just so…Hazel. So authentically her. 

“Oh no!” You feigned worry, playing along. “We wouldn’t want that.” 

“No. Not at all.” Hazel shook her head. She took her spare hand and wrapped it around your waist. 

Leaning in once again, you take a moment to examine her features. The contrast of her sharp features against the violent splotches of purple and green and beige. She looked beautiful. Right then and there you swore that you’d protect her. Never let anything like this happen again. Protect her against the stupid football guy, PJ, anyone. 

“What are you thinking of?” Hazel asked, breaking you out of your trance. 

“How good you look. And how I’m totally gonna kick that football guy and PJ’s ass.” You reply, earning a groan from your best friend. 

“More kissing, less kicking ass, please.” She pleaded. 

“Alright okay.” You laughed, connecting your lips to hers again. You weren’t sure where this left the both of you. If it meant that you two were together now. You made a mental note to bring this up to her once you two finish making out. 

Hazel on the other hand, was elated. She had to personally thank her nurse and doctor for prescribing her meds that made her more loopy as hell but confident. She couldn’t believe it! She was kissing her best friend and long time crush all because of some stupid meds that got rid of her shyness. Hazel was going to enjoy this, she thought. And she also thought about how she was going to scream everything out into the world. How she finally got her girl and how lucky she felt. 

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tags: @academiareid <3

[anadiasmount]

Hi love! I love your blog and your scenarios. You are a very talented writer.

I was wondering if you can write a story when the reader it's Jude's best friend and she is a little to drunk. She can't stop saying to Jude how amazing, big and soft his lips are (because omg Jude's lips). And idk if they kiss it's up to you how the story goes.

kisses xx

hi lovely!! tysm!! it means a lot 🫂🤍

“oh my gofh, i’m soooooo drunk,” you slurred laughing a bit. your eyes where half way closed barely holding onto jude who carried you bridal style since you couldn’t even stand. “i’m so gonna regret this tomorrow jude, i’m calling it right noew,” jude chuckled leaning his head on yours that rested in the crook of his neck.

“i tried to stop you but you had a mission, i’ll take care of you,” jude promised setting you down as he fidgeted to grab his keys and open the door. “why did you get so drunk? hmm?” he asked wonderingly. the whole night you drank, danced, laughed, and even almost fought someone because they pushed you.

“if i told you, it wouldn’t be a secret,” you giggled failing to properly put your finger against your lips, instead by the corner of your mouth. jude picked you back up and walked into the house, he set you down on the small bench leaning down onto one knee to remove your heals.

“i know what you’re trying to do, don’t act like i don’t. i might not be in my five senses but i can’t tell you this secret,” you hummed in delight, a sense of pride waving in for not telling him, even if you wouldn’t remember it the next morning. “why can’t you tell me this secret hm? how big of a secret is it?” jude teased, walking you slowly upstairs to his bedroom and then bathroom.

“it’s a fbi secret. if my friends found out i told you i wouldn’t hear the end of it,” he heard you giggling and then hiccup. “if i told you i’m scared the next morning it’s going to be awkward and we’re not going to be friends anymore,” you slur and pout looking into jude’s brown eyes boring into yours. even when drunk he didn’t fail making you shy and intimidated by his handsomeness.

“and why’s that?”

“because i love you so so so so much,” you express, leaning up to wrap your hands around his fitted shoulders. “i love your eyes,” you touch his lashes feeling them flutter, “i love your nose,” you poke it another giggle escaping your lips, “i love your curls,” you twist a single coil in your index finger jude chuckling nervously.

“i love your lips so much! they’re just so plump, juicy, and so soft,” you whine, your thumb running along his lips slowly, your eyes entranced by the small lines and shape of them. “if you were mine i’d kiss you all the time,” you taunt him even more without knowing, jude’s heart racing at your confession.

you shake your head no, jude feeling the coldness return where your arms were once wrapped, “what am i saying! y/n behave. remember he doesn’t feel the same way,” you reminded yourself loudly. “what do you mean pretty girl?” jude asked squinting his eyes ever so slightly as his hand stroked your cheek.

“that you don’t feel the same way i do… love wise… you see jude i like you but not as a friend, as in something more you know? like anytime i’m around you i never want to leave because you make me so happy. when i’m with you it seems like you’re the only person i want to spend the rest of my life with,” you frown, tears stinging the inner corners of your eyes.

“i don’t think you love me the way i love you jude.”

“how can you be so sure of that hmm?” jude says, taking out some of the makeup melting bomb you had to remove it, stroking away the aftermath with a gentle and clean towel, doing some of your skincare for you as you sat there with your eyes closed. “i’m sure so sure if it jude. you don’t look at me the way you do with other girls…”

“that’s because the only girl i want to look at for the rest of my life is you darling,” he stopped his movements urging you to look at him. “whether you remember tomorrow or not, i want you to know that we share the same secret. that we love each other but not in a friend way. as in i wanna spend my life time with you,” jude confessed.

you squeal, kicking your legs excitedly as you heard him, not caring if he hadn’t completely spread the moisturizer on your face. “do you really mean it jude?” you attempt to ask him seriously, with a brow raised and arms crossed against your chest. “i’m not lying to you. i really do mean it,” jude leaned down a placed a feather like kiss on the inner corner of your mouth.

“let me finish here and we can cuddle okay?” he stated, making you nod and go quiet after a long night of chattering away. “okay but i want to wear one of your shirts. they’re just so comfy and so soft. like your lips. HEY! did i mention how much i love your lips? they look soft as clouds,” you yapped.

jude laid in bed, giving you a minute of privacy to change and brush your teeth. he couldn’t stop thinking about your admittance to him, the way you poured your heart and feelings out. he’s dealt with you drunk but it wasn’t compared to tonight. all he could think about was if you could remember the next morning and about finally making you his.

you practically sprinted almost tripping toward the bed. you cuddled into his warm embrace placing small kisses on his bare chest and neck. “goodnight judey, i love you handsome,” he heard you say cheekily, forever wanting to hear you say it everyday for the rest of your lives. “i love you too pretty girl. sleep. a morning of headaches is awaiting for you.”

the next morning, you slurred in your sleep, squinting your eyes and looking around to see you were in jude’s bed. your head came up from his neck, jude fast asleep snoring very quietly, a hand on your waist as the other one was placed next to him. you were infatuated with how he looked, evening in the morning and asleep he looked so handsome.

you remembered last nights events surprisingly. wanting to slap yourself for not being able to tell him sooner how you felt, it would’ve saved you this whole embarrassment and hangover. jude slurred in his sleep, eyes fluttering as he woke up, his eyes slightly puffy and red from his sleep. he smiled down at you, dimples popping out as he leaned his head back onto the pillows chucking deep. “i take it as you don’t remember anything?”

“nope. in fact i remember everything, handsome.”

“do you now? how’s the hangover?”

“could be worse, but you could kiss me to take the pain away?” you say leaning up, lips dangerously close to his, tucking your hair back so it wouldn’t fall on his face. “with pleasure,” he sat up, taking your legs and spreading them so you could sit on his lap properly, as his lips connected with yours. you moaned in delight, a hand coming to the back of his head to pull him closer. jude slip his hands under your shirt, feeling your still warm skin underneath his fingertips.

you didn’t care about anything. not even if you hadn’t brushed your teeth. all you cared and could focus on was the way he devoured you, holding you close to his chest almost afraid to let go off you. how his lips smashes with yours, teeth clashing, his warm tongue tracing your bottom lip before kissing you deeply once again.

“kiss me. just kiss me forever jude.”

[cosmos-coma]

Sick Days- Geralt

Pairing: Geralt x Reader

Words: ~1.1k

Summary: You refuse to tell Geralt that you're sick and so he has to find out the hard way

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“How are you doing back there, Y/n?” Geralt called back to you, he and Roach taking the lead on this narrow path.

The partly cloudy afternoon was more than welcome to you compared to the rain you had pushed through all day yesterday. And the day before. Ugh. 

Honestly, you liked rain as a whole, but the added chill in the air and the absolute soaking of your jacket left you feeling tired, feverish, and sniffly. You dared not let Geralt know that you were growing sick, the deadline to get to Novigrad was drawing closer and you refused to be the cause for missing it.

“Yep, yeah, I’m okay back here…” you lied. Your vision had begun spinning and your vision started lagging behind your eyes about 10 minutes ago. Your light tunic clung to your skin as your fever made you sweat relentlessly. Your various layers were laying across your horse in an unceremonious heap where you had left them and- wait, did you lose a jacket along the way? Hmm, you couldn't remember.

You let out a soft hum as a faint breeze cooled your skin and gave you a moment of relief from the sweltering heat.

 “Y/n?” Geralt called out to you, “did you hear what I said?”

“Hm? Oh, no… what were you saying?” Your eyes closed as you tried to listen, your ears only picking up garbled noises. You could feel your body begin to get to tired to hold itself together, but you had to fight through it. 

“Hmm, That’s interesting… “ you replied- well you're pretty sure that’s what you said. You… couldn’t be sure right now. Your consciousness filled with nothing more than a dense fog you couldn't seem to fan away. 

“Yes very interesting…” you slurred out as your mind finally forced your body to shut down and everything went dark.

“Y/n, you’re not making any sense- shit..!” Geralt turned just in time to see you fall off your horse with a great big THUD. A pathetic groan was the last sound your barely conscious body sent out as Geralt yelled again and ran to your limp body. 

“Y/n?” he shook you, “Fuck… and you’re burning up,” he commented and swiftly picked you up, your skin blazing and burning against his. “Let’s get you to an Inn, we’re done traveling for today…”

You woke up on clean linens, your body stripped down to its underclothes and covered in damp washcloths to keep you cool. “Hmm, Geralt...?” you grunted out as you sat up, rolled up cloth falling from your forehead, “Oh- nope, no, no, no... too dizzy…” you sighed and promptly laid down again. 

“Welcome back, sleeping beauty…” Geralt jested and sat on the edge of the bed- his expression slowly changing to something more sincere, his voice quieting as he urged you to take in the seriousness of his words. “You scared me back there… why didn’t you tell me that you were sick..? That you had a fever..?”

Your mouth opened and closed as you tried to find an adequate explanation, but it never came.

“You could have died if you’d fallen over a cliff's edge…if your head had hit rocks…” Geralt couldn’t even meet your eyes as he talked- instead opting to replace the damp cloths on your forehead. “You’re not as hearty as a Witcher is- you know that.” 

You frowned, feeling more and more like a scolded child as he spoke to you. You shook your head and glanced outside instead of anywhere near this conversation. 

“Y/n...” Geralt sighed, knowing exactly what you were doing, “Dear heart..?” he tried once more, finally catching your gaze. 

“I don’t mean to make your softness such a flaw- you know it's exactly what pulled me into you in the first place..” A small smile crept over his features as he briefly remembered your first meeting. “But you need to let me know when to slow down, okay? Remind me now and then to be a little softer too,” he spoke so quietly that you were sure nothing else in the world could have heard him but you. 

Your own expression reflected his smile and his whispered words fluttered around your heart “I will… I promise.” your fingers reached out for his, searching around until they captured his touch. “Oh, how long have I been out? We need to keep going” you urged, using your aching arm to bring his hand up to your lips in a soft kiss before you struggled to pull yourself upright.

But Geralt only laughed and shook his head as he helped you sit up, “now I see where Ciri gets her endless determination from- neither of you wants to stop for a minute to take care of yourselves.”

“We learned it from YOU, Geralt…” you grinned, sniffling as your nose threatened to run. 

Eyes rolling, his smile became even wider. “Anyways… I mean to say that you shouldn’t worry about it… we’ve been making good time, we can spare a day to let you rest and recover.” 

You nodded and relaxed a bit more, rolling your shoulder and cracking your back as you tried to get comfortable. “Good… Good, I really can’t fall off like that again. I feel like I just slammed shoulder-first into a shaelmaar…”

“I bet,” Your witcher snorted, a knowing smile hiding behind your hand as he brought it up to kiss in return. “Do you think some desert would make that shoulder feel any better?”

“Hmmmmmm, I think it’s a good start… that might help being sick but maybe you can rub my shoulder later..?” you grinned, knowing you were pushing it, but that hadn’t failed you yet. 

A genuine laugh pulled itself from Geralt as he stood, audible and even forming a faint crease around his eyes. For a witcher, it might as well have been a full belly laugh the way their stoic expressions dampen everything. 

You beamed and watched your handsome witcher as he headed off to get you dessert. You wouldn’t be surprised if his heart was as golden and lovely as his eyes were.  “Hey, Geralt? I love you…” 

“I love you too, Dear heart… no matter how soft you make me.” He said with a smile as he came back to your side and leaned down to press a sweet kiss against your lips.

______________________________

Taglist: @writingmysanity @open--till--midnight @dark-academia-slut @madamemelancholysstuff

[unnaturalequilibrium]

Capítulo 7

- Mafin rewatch (Sueños de Libertad)

Fina in that green dress - she is beautiful. Damn. She also is Isidro’s daughter through and through, she too seem to have that way of getting people to open up, getting them to accept her advice and comfort. She is soft and reassuring as Claudia spills her mistakes with Tasio. And Fina’s hug looks so nice. I’m pretty sure this is what “everyone needs a bosom for a pillow” means and I agree, they do. To get lost in her embrace looks like it could solve a great many personal problems and maybe a few societal ones too. I don’t know if it’s the solution to climate change, but if 2025’s Nobel prize winners tell me it is - well I won’t be surprised. I also like that she one hundred percent share my exact opinion of Tasio, he is trash, unredeemable trash and should be avoided like the plague.

Aww, Fina arguing her case that a marriage doesn’t equal happiness and that her father shouldn’t be so quick to wish one upon her. The old man really just wants her to be happy, you can tell though that it’s a conversation that makes her ill at ease because of the way she has to stretch and stitch the truth in her replies. I already know it’s going to hurt a lot when he later on rejects her.

Marta confronting Elena - I know that it won’t officially happen for another hundred plus episodes, but Marta is the boss. The way she just slides into that armchair and takes hold of the entire office with what seems like nothing more than an innate sense of authority and a raised eyebrow - yeah, she exudes in charge. But I enjoy the little exhale at the end as Elena leaves. Like so much of who Marta is at this point this too is a game face. Maybe she carries it with what looks like ease, but it might actually come at a fairly high price, just not one we’re allowed to see yet.

Petra, I’m telling you - back off the Marta insults, or - If I remove myself from the narrative though, I love this. I love how they try to build Marta up as this stick in the mud, firm, cold and distant. Unsmiling, no sense of empathy, all business and with very little sympathy. If I hadn’t know what was to come maybe I’d buy it, maybe I’d laugh along with Petra as she mocks and says that Marta needs to smile more. Because yeah, all we’ve seen of her so far actually fits that vision of the demanding ice queen, except for these brief micro-expressions on Marta’s face when no one is looking, when she doesn’t have time to catch her true reaction. When Damian brings up marriage and children, when Elena turns her back, when Fina confronts her and tells her she demands a lot of respect. For a second you see something else, but only for a second, before it is hidden behind the wall again. So yeah, if I had watched this for the first time I would probably have thought of Marta as a bit of a bitch to approach with extreme caution.

That said, back to the narrative, fuck Petra. Fina is a fucking cinnamon roll and I ache so hard for her as this woman clearly leads her on, only to slam the door in her face and call her disgusting as wine and a win makes Fina bold enough to go for a kiss. And invertida is never a slur I’ve had to personally experience, but the way it is delivered and the way it lands makes it feel like I share its burden too. It’s a slap in the face and I wish I could reach through the computer screen and return it, with interest.

Marta’s relationship with her dad, ugh. She talks to him about being happy with being more involved in the company, getting a shot at running the business alongside her brothers. And what does Damian do? He turns the table on her and brings the conversation back to her marriage, talking about how it isn’t what he wanted for her. Granted it’s nice of him to want more than the isolation her current marriage gives her, but it’s also another dagger in Marta’s side, isn’t it? Whatever she does, or achieves, with her dad it always boils back down into her marriage, her role as a wife and the failure of it all. That shit really has to feel like someone ripping out the feathers of her wings every time she tries to take flight. It’s a nice parallel though of both Isidro and Damian wishing happiness and partnership for their daughters. I’m looking forward to when this will come full circle in 170 episodes and they discuss how their daughters have found just that, in each other.

[petals2fish]

The Good Witch

Day 4 of jily week (hosted by @sunshinemarauder and @kay-elle-cee ) prompt; role reversal

Read on A03

“Alright, Potter?”

James Potter glanced up from his essay to see Lily Evans leaning over his desk. Her shirt was unbuttoned just enough to be distracting, and he rolled his eyes as she fluffed her red hair for his benefit. There were three reasons she was the most popular witch in school:

1. she’s bloody gorgeous

2. She’s way too good at quidditch

3. She’s a massive show off with an affinity for mischief making

Despite these three things, James still avoided her like the plague. Especially after that incident in potions two weeks ago, where she’d tried to come to his defense after his best friend shouted a slur at him in front of the whole class. He didn’t know what had been more humiliating, Sev blowing up on him, or Lily Evans playing the hero.

James definitely didn’t need her swooping in to defend him. She irked Sev enough that her mere presence makes James’ old friend go blind with rage. James sometimes wondered if Sev actually liked Lily, but hated himself for it.

But then again, who didn’t like Lily and hate themselves for it?

“Do you deliberately go out of your way to find me?” he asked flatly. “You know I can’t stand you at the moment.”

“I think you secretly like me,” she replied, sitting on the edge of his desk.

“You’re insane.”

She was right.

”You’re the one who was staring at me during transfiguration.” She sang, “Anyway, I wanted to let you know that I caught the snitch in the match last night, so according to our bet, you owe me seven minutes in heaven.”

He really hated himself for giving into her goading at breakfast yesterday. They’d bantered back and forth about how good she actually was at quidditch. James found bantering with her to be a sport of its own, and she sadly excelled at both.

“You’re the only one who agreed to that.” He said, pushing at her to move. She stayed put.

”You shook on it.”

”You picked my hand up and forced me to shake your hand.” James reminded her, “I told you I didn’t want to bet against you.”

Her eyes sparkled mirthlessly, “I love when you accidentally compliment me without realizing it.”

”Go bother someone else,” he begged, “literally anyone else.”

“We’re already a minute in. Why waste time fighting?” She waggled her red eyebrows. “Pucker up, buttercup.”

James snorted. “You’re unbelievable.”

“Don’t I know it.” She just giggled and kicked her feet. “I’ve got Petunia holding the portrait, so no one will walk in on us, don’t be embarrassed. One little kiss never hurt anyone.”

It might kill me, he thought to himself.

James looked around the common room and realized she had somehow cleared everyone out. He sighed and tucked his quill behind his ear. Lily smirked, swiped the quill from him, dipped it in the inkpot, and took his hand.

“What are you doing?” he asked, his face turning red as she guided his palm open.

“Reading your future,” she said nonchalantly, tracing the lines of his palm with the ink, creating intricate patterns.

James swallowed hard, the tickling sensation of the quill giving him goosebumps. “And why are you doing this?”

“Oh,” she clicked her tongue, “it says here that your lifeline is really short, which means you should kiss a hot witch before you die at the ripe young age of fifteen.”

James pulled his hand away. “Let me guess, you’re the hot witch in question?”

She grinned wickedly. “I am pretty hot, don’t you think?”

“Sure,” he muttered, “but your ego is really unattractive.”

She placed a hand on her heart, feigning shock. “Me? My ego? James, James, James.” She lifted his chin with a finger, her green eyes sparkling. “It’s called confidence.”

“Well, I’m confident I don’t want to kiss you,” he shrugged. “You might as well tell your sister to let people back into the common room.”

Lily’s shoulders slumped, her confidence faltering. “Did I do something to make you hate me so much?”

“You mess up your hair to look like you’ve just been on a broomstick,” he said, standing up so he was finally taller than her as she perched on the desk. “You make fun of people for sport. You’re an arrogant toe-rag, and I’d rather kiss the giant squid than make out with you.”

Her frown deepened. “Fine.” She pushed herself away from the desk, her feet hitting the floor with a pronounced thud. “I get it. You’re afraid you might actually like me, so you’re pushing me away. According to Witch Weekly, that just means you’re actually interested.”

James rolled his eyes. “Witch Weekly isn’t exactly where I’d look for dating advice,” he said, absentmindedly brushing imaginary lint from his robe. “That’s not the reason I don’t want to snog you.”

“Then give me a chance,” she insisted. “Go out with me and see if we’re a good match.”

“No.”

“Why not?” She challenged, her eyes narrowing. “Is it because I’m a pure-blood? Because that’s ridiculous. You know I’m nothing like those pure-blood elitists who look down on you or anyone else.”

“Your blood has nothing to do with it,” James said, smoothing down his robe with a dismissive gesture. “I just don’t fancy you.”

Another lie.

“Really?” She raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. “Then why do you blush every time I walk past you in the hall? And why did you stand up for me when Snape called me a useless Quidditch player who’s overrated?”

James shifted uncomfortably, avoiding her gaze. “Look, it’s not about what you think. It’s just not going to work.”

“Because your best friend Snape hates me and doesn’t want you talking to me?” Lily guessed.

James blinked in surprise. “You heard him?”

“Of course I did.” She wrapped her arms around herself. “You think I don’t hear what he and his Death Eater wannabe friends say about me? Or Sirius? Or Petunia? We’re all blood traitors because we defend you. I don’t know how you can still be friends with Snape. He’s such a prat.”

“We aren’t as close,” James admitted. “Not after he called me a—” He hesitated, “—a Mudblood.”

Her green eyes softened, and her voice took on a gentler tone. “I would never call you that, you know that, right?”

“Yes.”

He did. Despite her often inflated ego, James was well aware that Lily Evans was a genuinely good witch. If he could turn back time and rewrite his choices, he would have chosen to be friends with her rather than with Severus Snape.

Even though James had grown up alongside Sev, their friendship had become strained over the years. Sev had increasingly aligned himself with those who saw James as an outsider simply because he was the child of two Muggles. The bitterness that had started to poison their relationship had made him realize, too late, that he had been on the wrong path.

But he knew that pursuing anything with Lily Evans, Sev’s sworn adversary, would likely bring more complications than it was worth. Even though he secretly wanted to kiss her, he couldn’t ignore the potential trouble their relationship might stir up.

James was still dealing with the effects of the last encounter between the three of them. He had a feeling if Sev heard James was snogging Lily, Sev might actually kill him. He’d definitely see it as some sort of betrayal. After all, Lily had spent the last five years bullying Sev relentlessly.

As the common room began to fill up again, students weaved around James and Lily, but Lily remained firmly planted in place. She stepped closer to him, her hand reaching out and clasping his. The sudden, firm grip caught James off guard, and he instinctively tried to pull away, but Lily held on tightly.

“I’m a straightforward witch, Potter,” she said with a determined edge to her voice. “When I see something I want, I go after it. That’s why I’m such a good Seeker. And let me be clear—I don’t care if you’d rather kiss the giant squid than me. I still want you. So when you finally come to your senses and realize that Snape is toxic and manipulating everything around you, including who you’re allowed to snog, remember that I was the one who warned you. And I’ll be the one still waiting for you.”

James's face turned a deep shade of red, drawing curious glances from those nearby. “Lily, I—I…” he stammered, struggling to find the right words.

“Hey, Potter.” Lily’s sister appeared, her expression haughty. “Snape’s waiting outside the portrait hole. He says he’ll camp out there if you don’t come out right now.”

James winced at the thought of facing Sev after everything that had happened. Especially after Lily’s confession. “Perfect.”

Lily brushed her shoulder against his, a surge of warmth following her touch. “Give him hell for using that slur, or I will,” she said fiercely.

And James believed her.

[maurauderswhxre]

whispers in the smoke || r.c

pairing: rafe cameron x f!reader

Summary: A solitary after party smoke session night at Tannyhill welcomes an unusually peaceful talk with the broodiest kook in obx.

Warnings: smoking, light cursing, mentions of alcohol and drugs, partying, slight talk about insecurity.

words: 3.6k

a/n: this is my first fic! show some love and lmk what you think abt it ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚

The loud music that once blared through every hall of Tannyhill mellowed into a slight hum and tune as people cleared out from the house. Scattered red solo cups, beer cans, confetti, and small grains of sand decorated the floor in an orchestrated mess. Walking your way through the trashed house, you try and find Sarah. A small part of you hoped she wasn’t blackout drunk, knowing the pain and the struggle it is to carry her up to her bed from her previous recklessness and ignorance of how much liquor she could hold.

You passed by a few people who were too hammered to realize the party was over and a few maids who diligently started cleaning up the mess left. Smiling at them appreciatively, you made your way to the backyard, where you found a very drunk Sarah Cameron bent down and talking to what seemed like the head of a broken garden gnome.

“I'm sorry.. Charlie. I will fix you. I promise…I swear. I-I will find out who did this to you,” she slurred as she placed the cracked head on its neck, trying to make it stay. A giggle left your lips as she babbled the broken ceramic empty promises. The sight was too funny for you not to take your phone and take a picture of her. Shaking your head, you walked over to her and bent beside her. 

“Sarah, I think it’s time to leave Charlie and go to bed. You’re drunk, and I’m pretty sure you’re going to pass out drunk in your backyard any moment,” you spoke to her, trying to distract the blonde from the broken gnome. She turned and looked at you, her brown eyes glossed over and brimming with tears. God, you were not drunk enough to deal with this. 

“But I can’t. He’s broken, and h-he needs to be fixed,” she pleaded like a small child whose balloon had just popped. 

“He will be fixed. I will fix him, okay?” you said as you slowly grabbed her arm to get her to stand up. She got up, stumbling a bit, as you guided her back inside the house, her incoherent babbling filling the once-quiet house. After a rather tedious task of making it safely up the stairs, you walked her to her room and tucked her in, placing a trash can next to her and a bottle of water. 

She called out your name, making you hum in acknowledgment from the bathroom as you looked for a bottle of painkillers. 

“You promise to fix Charlie?” she mumbled, voice laced with slumber.

 “Yes, I do. Now sleep. We’re gonna go get breakfast in the morning, okay?” you said, walking back and placing a bottle of Tylenol on her bedstand. Hearing a lack of response, you looked at her and found her fast asleep. You made sure she had everything she needed before going to the bathroom. 

You sigh tiredly as you grab the spare pjs you kept in her cupboard due to the frequent sleeping over and changed your clothes. Tying your hair back, you dug in your bag for your lighter and carton of cigarettes; stowing them in your pocket, you walked out of the bathroom and headed to the window that let you out to the roof. After some struggle, you opened the window and carefully crawled onto the roof, sitting comfortably, taking out your cigarette and lighting it. The hot smoke invaded your mouth and burned your throat as you took a drag. The familiarity of the bitter taste on your tongue as you blew out the smoke left a slight smile as you looked up at the cloudless night. 

The black blanket had a few dispersed stars that glowed in the moonless sky, mimicking the fireflies down near the grass. A cool breeze wrapped around you as you smoked in solitude, floating freely in your realm of thoughts, and your brain racked with all the memories of the party that evening. Lost in your thoughts, you didn't notice the head that popped out of the window and saw your silhouette against the dark sky. However, that presence was soon made known through a rough grunt, which startled you out of your trance to look at the now-emerging figure of Rafe crawling out of the window. He sat down with a huff and rubbed his head, wincing lightly. A smile broke out on our faces as you brought the cigarette to your lips and inhaled the dizzying gas.

“Thought you left with Barry; I didn’t see you around the house,” you said as you blew out a thin ribbon of smoke that floated lazily around you. “I was on my way to go, but I found you on my roof,” he spoke, digging into his pocket to grab his cigarette and light it, the flame of the lighter illuminating his sharp features. “And I don't trust you or Sarah enough to leave you in the house after drinking your weight in margaritas,” he added as he blew out the smoke that invaded his mouth. 

“Hey, I can hold my liquor. Sarah can’t” you defended yourself taking a drag. “If anything, I don't trust you around me after your little coke business,” you retorted, laughing out the smoke. 

“Oh, really now? Keep those same words when you ask for a discount next time you want a line,”  he remarked, smirking as he brought his lips to the filter, hollowing his cheeks and inhaling the hot smoke. Your eyes lingered on his lips a second too long as you reluctantly looked out over the glittering lake. 

“I’ll have you know that you just lost a very loyal customer,” you gasped lightly, placing your unoccupied hand on your chest as you feigned hurt. 

Rafe raised an eyebrow and looked at you with a smirk, taking a long drag on his cigarette. "Okay, and what are you going to do? Go ask Barracuda Mike instead?" he asked, making a joking grimace. You both chuckle, remembering Barracuda Mike and the shitty, cut-with-baby-powder products he sold. 

"I mean...I can if I want to," you teased back, knowing damn well Rafe had a point. You couldn't get your drugs from anywhere else unless you wanted to be dealing with a bunch of random dealers.

Rafe chuckled, taking another drag of his cigarette.

 “I know you can, but I also know you won't.” He said, eyeing you playfully. Rafe was always great at reading you.

“Fine,” you said, rolling your eyes. "I'll stick with you, but only because I have to get my fix somehow.”

“That's what I thought,” Rafe replied, taking another drag of his cigarette. You both sat silently on the roof, smoking and watching the stars.

"So cocky," you mutter back as you take a long drag on your cigarette. The warm tobacco fills your throat, and the dizzying nicotine sends your head spinning. You look out over the water at the sparkling lights of distant boats that signal the liveliness of the summer night. The nights that both keep you up at night and give you a sense of comfort.

The silence between you and Rafe is deafening. You've known him for years, yet it never got easier to speak to him when you were alone together. How you guys acted when you were around people was nothing like how you were alone. It was like you were different versions of yourselves almost. Rafe takes another drag of his cigarette, the ember illuminating the sharp features of his face. You've always thought he was handsome, but you've never let yourself dwell on those thoughts.

You two sit there, smoking cigarettes and staring at the sparkling lake together.

“You know, I like you the most out of Sarah’s friends.” He said, breaking the silence. 

You look over at him, coughing out the smoke you inhaled, surprised by the sudden statement. "wha..." you mumble, unsure of what to say. It takes you a moment to process his words, because the truth is that you've always had feelings for him, even though you never admitted it to anyone - even yourself. So this sudden revelation was not helping your case. Suddenly, you feel an intense heat wash over your body, and you're not sure if it's from the cigarette or embarrassment. "Thanks?" you ask, your voice shaky as you try to gain your composure.

"I mean it," Rafe says, looking at you intently. You can't tell if he's serious or not, since he has a habit of teasing you sometimes. But that compliment felt different than the other times he'd teased you. Was he saying what he meant? Before you can ask him or respond in any way, he takes a long drag of his cigarette and then blows the smoke out in a cloud in front of him. "You're the only one out of her friends that actually cares for her. And she seems to be less of a bitch with you around, so.."

"She's not a-," you start to say, quickly cutting yourself off at the end. It's no secret that Sarah can be difficult to deal with sometimes, and you tend to take care of her when you go out together.  You can't help but feel your cheeks warm as you realize he's being serious for once. You try to play it off like it's not a big deal, but deep down, you know you're starting to get flustered by his words. "Oh, so you think I'm a good influence, huh?" you ask, sounding playful and taking a drag. In reality, you're not sure what to say. Rafe always surprises you when he acts like this, making you wonder if there might be hope for more than friendship between you two.

Rafe chuckles at your response and takes another drag of his cigarette. "I mean, putting aside doing drugs and all, yeah, in comparison to her other friends, you are," he says with a sly grin. "And I meant what I said earlier - you're the only one who cares for her. I see how you sometimes look out for her when I'm around. It's kinda nice. And you're always there for her, even when she's being...well, a total bitch."

As you blow out the smoke, you can't help but feel your cheeks heat up. As he continues, a slight flush creeps up to your ears. He notices this and smirks, taking another drag of his cigarette. You can't help but feel your heart race as the conversation continues, and you can't help but notice how handsome he looks in the moonlight. The way the light plays off his features is almost mesmerizing.

"I guess so," you whisper, sounding casual even though your voice is slightly shaky. You tap the cigarette to let the white ashes float down from the burning end. 

“What? You sound so conflicted and confused,” he laughs as he crushes the butt of the cigarette into the roof tiles and looked at you. 

"Nothing," you mumble, looking at him and smiling before using the last bit of cigarette. You do the same as rafe and extinguish it; you bring your knees to your chest and hug them. "It’s just…it’s odd to see you so relaxed and all." You pause momentarily, feeling his gaze on you as the silence settles. It feels intense but not uncomfortable. Just awkward. “It's new. I like it,” you continued, your voice small and whispering, almost as if you were talking to yourself. 

The silence lingered for a few seconds more as if Rafe was also trying to gather his thoughts. You could tell he was a bit flustered as well, but it was different from yours. His words carried a weight that couldn’t be missed, and there was an intensity to his gaze that couldn’t be ignored. 

“I'm not always a dick,” he said, chuckling dryly as he looked at you; his face wore an expression you couldn't deduce. 

“I didn’t say you were; it’s just you’re a little more heated most of the time with whatever you’re dealing with,” you said, trying to explain yourself. You looked away momentarily before slowly turning back to him. To your surprise, his gaze was still on you, and it felt like he was staring into all the secrets you held deep within.

“Yeah, well, there’s a lot to deal with sometimes….especially with my family,” he said, looking away for a second. You could tell that he wasn’t comfortable talking about his own emotions, and you knew better than to probe. 

“I know,” you muttered, scooting a little closer to him. “I know you just care about your family and want to take care of them, and I know that Rose, Ward, Sarah, and Wheezie all appreciate it.”  

"Thanks,” he responded, putting his head in his hands and rubbing his eyes. "It’s just…it’s not the easiest thing to do."

You nodded, understanding what he meant. Taking care of a family as large and seemingly dysfunctional as Cameron’s was never easy, but you respected the responsibility Rafe carried on his shoulders.

“And I don't think anyone else can do a better job,” you say softly with a small smile as his beautiful eyes meet yours. 

His gaze flicks back to you, and you can feel the tension in the air. A slight rumble of thunder echoes in the air, but neither of you pays any mind to it right away.

Rafe looked away from you, focusing on the distant, sprawling scenery before you. You could feel the intensity of his eyes on you, but he didn’t say anything. A comfortable silence fell between you two as you sat side by side, looking up at the stars and listening to the crickets as the summer evening stretched before you. Suddenly, Rafe’s expression shifted slightly as he looked back at you.

“Can I ask you a question?” he said quietly, breaking the silence.

You could only nod as you wondered where he was going with this. Did he want to change the subject? Had you said something wrong?

“Are you gonna tell Sarah you had to find her in the backyard talking to a broken garden gnome?” 

You laughed at his question. It was reasonable, considering the situation. Rafe chuckled and nodded his head at your response. 

“You saw that?” you said, laughing as you recollected the memory of drunken Sarah. “Oh definitely, it's such good blackmail material,” you giggled; Rafe couldn’t keep his eyes off you. Maybe it was the buzz of the alcohol and drugs that made him see a halo of soft light around you, or perhaps it was the way you captivated his heart and mind since you started spending more time at Tannyhill. Whatever it was made him feel a slight burn of yearning in his chest as he took in your appearance; your hair was tied up messily, and small remnants of glitter and eyeliner glistened on your cheeks and eyes as they caught the light. And that smile you had upon your face made him feel so warm—what he would do to keep that smile on your face. 

Reluctantly, Rafe pulled himself back from the cloud of admiration he got lost in and ran his hands through his hair. He laughed in response, shaking his head at how the scenario had unfolded. “I can only imagine how that conversation will go…”

You giggle lightly and before you could  reply to to him again a low thunder rumbling sounded again, indicating more rain to come but once again ignored by the buzz of the chemistry that filled the open air.

As you sat on the roof, the rain began to fall in a light drizzle. Neither of you wanted to go back inside and leave the tranquility of the night air, but the threat of a heavier shower made you feel like you should.

"We should probably go in soon,” he said, as your jokes and laughter seemed to lighten the tension in the air.

“You’re right,” you muttered, feeling the cool rain drop on your skin. "We shouldn’t push our luck.”

You looked around, feeling the dizzying buzz of the alcohol mixed with the nicotine from the cigarettes. Rafe stood up, his gaze still on yours.

You looked up at him as he outstretched his hand, which you took gratefully smiling appreciatively as he pulled you up onto to your feet. 

“Thanks,” you said softly as you looked at him. He didn’t drop your hand; his warm calloused hand covered yours entirely. 

“You’re welcome,” he whispered, his tone hushed as the soft rain fell around them. His gaze remained on yours, his breath quickening as he took in your intoxicating presence.

The two of you carefully walked towards the window back, carefully avoiding the puddles of rainwater that had started to make the roof tiles slippery. The rain had begun to pick up in intensity, the quiet pitter-patter of the droplets turning into a loud pounding sound as they hit the roof. 

He went inside the first and helped you inside. As you entered the house, you felt the rush of humidity hit your face. Rafe closed the window behind the two of you, blocking the sound of the rain and the sight of the summer showers. You could feel the heat of his body as he let go of your hand, leaving you standing on your own.

As you stood there, feeling the warmth of the house enveloping you, you couldn't help but notice the way Rafe's eyes lingered on you. There was an intensity in his gaze that sent a shiver down your spine, and you found yourself unable to look away.

As you stood in the warmth of the house, the residual chill from the rain still clinging to your skin, you couldn't help but feel a slight flutter in your chest. The electricity in the air was palpable, and the tension between you and Rafe seemed to crackle with anticipation. You tried to brush it off, attributing it to the intoxication of the night and the rush of adrenaline from being caught in the rain, but deep down, you couldn't deny the growing attraction you felt towards him.

Rafe, too, seemed to be affected by the charged atmosphere. His eyes lingered on yours, his gaze intense yet soft, as if silently communicating a thousand words. You felt a heat rise to your cheeks under his scrutiny, and you couldn't help but fidget nervously under his gaze.

"So, uh... that was quite the adventure, huh?" you quipped, breaking the silence as you attempted to lighten the mood with a playful remark.

Rafe chuckled softly, a crooked smile playing on his lips as he nodded in agreement. "Yeah, definitely wasn't expecting a rooftop rendezvous in the rain tonight."

You laughed, the sound ringing through the air as you shook your head in amusement. "Well, you know me, always up for a little spontaneous adventure."

"Clearly," he replied, a teasing glint in his eyes as he took a step closer to you. "Although, I think we might need to work on your timing. Getting caught in a downpour wasn't exactly part of the plan."

You rolled your eyes playfully, nudging him with your elbow as you shot him a mock glare. "Hey, I'll have you know that I'm an expert at improvisation."

Rafe grinned, his gaze softening as he looked at you. "I have no doubt about that."

The air between you seemed to crackle with tension as the moment stretched on, neither of you willing to break the spell that had enveloped you. You could feel the heat of his body radiating towards you, his proximity sending a shiver down your spine.

And then, without warning, Rafe reached out and gently cupped your cheek, his touch feather-light against your skin. Your breath caught in your throat at the sudden intimacy, your heart pounding wildly in your chest as you met his gaze, your eyes locked in a silent exchange of longing and desire.

"Hey," he murmured softly, his voice barely above a whisper as he leaned in closer, his lips hovering dangerously close to yours. "You know, for someone who claims to be an expert at improvisation, you sure seem caught off guard right now."

As he leaned in closer, his gaze intense and unwavering, you felt your heart skip a beat in anticipation. The air around you seemed to crackle with tension as his lips drew nearer to yours, a silent invitation hanging between you. Before you could formulate a response, his lips met yours in a gentle yet electrifying kiss. It was as if the entire world had faded away, leaving only the two of you suspended in a moment of pure bliss. It was like a spark had been lit between you, a profound connection that left you breathless and wanting more. Remnants of smoke and alcohol could be tasted on his lips, but you wouldn’t want it any other way. 

At that moment, as the rain continued to fall outside and the soft glow of the house enveloped you, you couldn't help but feel like everything was falling into place. Lost in the moment, you melted into his embrace, your fingers tangling in his hair as you kissed him back with equal fervor. All you could think about was how right it felt to be in Rafe's arms, lost in the warmth of his embrace and the sweetness of his kiss. You knew deep down that this was exactly where you were meant to be.

a/n: hope you liked it, like and repost is highly appreciated xoxo ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚