#IT SOUNDS SO COOL AND IT SOUNDS LIKE IN THE PAST? LIKE IF SHE WAS STILL IN THE CONSTEST

[demie90s]

Some Things Are Sacred

NAVI | MORE

Summary: Your a well-known face around UConn funny, bold, always on live after games. But off-camera, she’s the quiet kind of hero.

Word Count~ 2k

Genre: Sports drama, emotional comfort, slice-of-life

Warnings: Mental health themes, mentions of suicide (no graphic content), emotional vulnerability

Post-Game

The hallway outside the locker room still hums with leftover energy, squeaky shoes, ESPN lights packing up, someone wheezing from laughter a few doors down.

You’re leaning against the wall, phone in hand, scrolling with lazy fingers while your legs recover.

You’re not looking up when a deep voice says, “Hey. She… um. She asked for you.”

It’s one of the arena security guards. Real chill dude. Wears the same black windbreaker every game. You blink, then glance past him and there she is.

She’s tiny. Fourteen, maybe fifteen. Hoodie sleeves pulled over her hands, lanyard swinging nervously from her neck. Her sneakers are worn out at the toes. She doesn’t say anything, just stands there like she’s debating whether or not to bolt.

You straighten up. “Hey. You good?” The guard steps back to give y’all space.

She nods fast, too fast, then shrugs like she changed her mind mid-thought. “Yeah. Um. I just… I’m not tryna be weird or anything. Or make it awkward. I just..”She stops herself. Swallows. “My cousin told me I should say hi. Like actually say something.”

You tilt your head and smile a little. “You already saying something.” That makes her laugh under her breath. Barely. But it’s a start.

You step off the wall, not too close, just enough that she doesn’t feel like you’re towering. “What’s your name?”

She hesitates, then tugs at her sleeve. “Layla.”

“Cool name.” You offer her a fist bump.

She bumps it back. Shy. Quick.

Then she fiddles with the string on her hoodie, staring down at it. “So like… this is kinda dumb. But I printed something you posted last year.

That caption about losing somebody. I stuck it on my mirror.” Her voice cracks a little. “Read it like every day.”

Your chest tightens, but you stay steady. Calm. Let her talk.

“I was in a bad place. And I don’t know. It just felt like… like somebody out there actually got it. Even if you don’t know me. It was like..” Her voice trails off and she bites her lip. “Sorry. This is probably so cringe.”

You shake your head. “Nah. You’re good.”

She peeks up at you, barely. You smile. “You ain’t gotta explain the whole thing. I’m just glad you said hi.”

Something soft passes over her face, like she needed that permission. That space.

“I’m better now,” she says quickly. “Just… yeah. You helped. That’s all.”

You nod slow. Let the silence stretch. It’s not awkward—not when it’s honest.

Then you tap her arm gently, just enough to get her attention. “You got a phone?”

She looks confused, then pulls it out of her hoodie pocket. You open your notes app, type in your number, and hand it back.

Her mouth drops open a little. “For real?”

“For real. Text me if you ever need to vent. Or just wanna send me a meme or whatever. I like memes.”

She laughs again, softer this time, and it actually reaches her eyes. “Okay. Bet.”

You lean down and whisper, like it’s just between y’all. “Promise I’ll text back. But don’t tell your whole school or I’ma have fifty kids in my phone talking about ‘you got games on your phone?’”

Layla giggles, and you swear it’s the best sound you’ve heard all day.

She pulls her sleeves up just enough to wave before bouncing back to whoever she came with. You watch her go. You don’t say anything when she turns around to smile again before disappearing into the hallway crowd.

You just smile back.

A Few Weeks Later [9:03 PM]

Layla 🦋: hi :) is it okay if i text you today?

You: always. what’s up?

Layla 🦋: nothing bad just school stress and girl drama, also why is algebra a scam

You: bc math is the devil. proven fact. also girl drama?? 👀

Layla 🦋: girl why do people flirt if they don’t mean it like if i’m smiling at you and laughing at your jokes… i got plans

You: LMFAOOO you sound like me when i was 15 (also they flirt bc they like the attention not the commitment. be smarter than them.)

Layla 🦋: ugh. i wish u were my older sister fr the kind that lets me talk mess and doesn’t tell mom

You: bet. i’m your big sister now. it’s official. talk mess all you want.

———————————————————————————————

Two Months In

Layla 🦋: can i ask you something and you won’t think it’s weird

You: go for it

Layla 🦋: if i made it through all the dark stuff and i’m still sad sometimes does that mean i’m backsliding?

You: nah it means you’re human. healing isn’t straight lines it’s a squiggly ass map with bad wifi and broken roads you’re still on the road tho. and i’m proud of you.

Layla 🦋: i’m crying at that 😭 squiggly ass map is my new twitter bio

You: you better tag me

———————————————————————————————

Most Recent

Layla 🦋: guess who got invited to prom 👀 and i said yes 👀👀👀

You: oh so you grown now huh. i need a pic. i’m tryna see this glow up

Layla 🦋: you’ll see 😏 (i wish u could come tho)

You: who says i can’t?

Tattoo Reveal – IG Live

The sun’s out and your crop top’s loud a little “UConn Girls Love Chaos” design that your teammates keep clowning you for. You’re walking across campus, holding your phone up, scrolling through comments as you talk to the live chat.

“Y’all ever realize how every professor got the same tone when they email you like you personally ruined their week?” you say, sipping a smoothie. “Like my bad Ms. Janine. I was depressed. Damn.”

“LMFAOOOO”

“who hurt ms janine 😭”

“WAIT IS THAT A TAT”

“Y’ALL SEE HER RIBS? ZOOM IN”

You don’t even notice the moment until you stretch your arms over your head, showing just a flash of new ink: soft cursive, right under your ribs. It reads: 𝐿𝒶𝓎𝓁𝒶.

No dates. No explanation. Just the name.

“WHO’S LAYLA 👀”

“y’all think she dating a girl named layla??”

“uhm… she didn’t have that last week??”

“the tattoo… it’s giving important”

You grin and keep walking.

“I’m not explaining shit,” you say, sipping your drink again. “Let the theories fly.”

The Night of Prom

You left campus with nothing but a hoodie, a carry-on bag, and a nod to Coach Auriemma.

“Everything alright?” he’d asked as you leaned against the doorframe of his office.

You just held up a tiny gift bag and smiled. “Got somewhere important to be.”

He didn’t press. Just gave you that small, knowing look and waved you off with a quiet, “Don’t be late coming back.”

So you weren’t. But you were late to dinner check-in. Late to group FaceTime. Missing from the girls’ usual chaos. They noticed.

It’s nothing like the campus galas you’re used to. The decorations are paper stars and curling ribbon. The music is ten minutes behind the vibe. The punch is lukewarm.

Layla is glowing. Her dress is baby blue. Hair laid. Nails done. There’s a quiet nervousness in her when you text her to come outside.

You: I’m here. Don’t freak out. Just meet me by the front doors.

She replies with twenty question marks and a “what??????” before you see the doors swing open. Then she sees you. She freezes.

You’re in a tailored black suit, button undone, white tee underneath. Casual. Sharp. Cropped curls. Fresh sneakers. Gift bag still in hand.

“You… what…?” she stammers.

You lift the bag. “You really thought I’d miss this?.“

Her hands cover her mouth. She looks like she might cry, but instead she just runs into your arms.

“I can’t believe you’re here,” she whispers, muffled against your chest.

You hold her tighter than you mean to. “Told you I show up when it counts.”

Inside, you stay in the shadows. Let her shine. You take a few pics, sign a few autographs, but most people don’t even realize who you are.

You pin her corsage. Give her her gift: a dainty silver necklace that says “light.” Just that.

Because that’s what she is.

“Where the hell have you been?” Nika asks, bursting into the locker room as soon as she sees you walk in.

“Y’all,” Paige says, wide-eyed, “we thought she was kidnapped.”

“I checked her location last night,” Azzi adds. “She turned it off! Which means it was serious.”

“She never turns her location off,” Ice mutters. “Even when she’s drunk.”

You just toss your duffle down and start pulling on your hoodie, nonchalant. “I was busy.”

“Doing what?”

Jana turns her phone toward the group. “More like who. Look what’s trending.”

It’s a photo from last night. A fan post. Blurry but clear enough to tell it’s you in that black suit, standing next to a girl in a blue dress. You’re putting a necklace around her neck. She’s beaming.

The caption: “UConn’s [Y/N] showed up to my little sister’s prom. Y’all… she has a tattoo of her name too 😭”

The locker room goes silent.

“WAIT—LAYLA?!”

“THE TATTOO?”

“Is that why she got the name??”

“You been texting her this whole time??”

You glance up, calm. A little shrug. “Y’all loud as hell.”

Nika throws a towel at you. “You’re soft as hell!”

Azzi’s eyes are glassy. “Why didn’t you tell us?”

You just smile and grab your water bottle. “Didn’t need y’all making it a big deal.”

Paige is grinning from ear to ear. “Girl. That is a big deal.”

“I mean…” you mutter, heading toward the showers, “…some things are sacred.”

Graduation Day

It starts simple. Layla’s walking across the field with her class, cap tilted back, gown billowing in the breeze. Nervous. She’s been nervous all morning.

You told her last week you might not make it. Finals. Travel. Media. The usual.

She understood. Said it was okay. But she didn’t mean it.

So when she turns the corner and sees the crowd and you, sitting right there on the edge of the front row, sunglasses low, smile wide her breath catches.

She mouths your name. You wink.

“GO LAYLAY!!”

“YEAHHHH BABY GRADUATE!!!”

“WE OUT HERE FOR YOU!!!”

“LOOK AT MY BABY OH LAWD”

The rest of the UConn team stands up. All of them. Matching UConn hoodies, signs, cowbells, and blown-up face cutouts of Layla that Azzi made in the hotel room last night.

One says “MENTAL HEALTH MATTERS” in glitter letters. Another has a picture of Layla’s favorite quote printed in big block font.

Layla gasps.

She turns slowly, face half-hidden behind her hands, absolutely stunned as her entire section of classmates and family loses their minds. The crowd starts clapping louder. Cheering. Crying.

Even the principal looks confused.

You stand up last, slow and steady, holding your phone to record her reaction. She sees it and immediately wipes her face, pretending not to cry.

“Mhm,” you call softly, grinning.

The field turns into a photo frenzy, and Layla is surrounded. Paige’s tall ass is holding her diploma like it’s a championship trophy. Nika’s twirling her around. Ice is on FaceTime with her cousins yelling, “Look who we came for!”

Someone hands Layla a gift bag. It’s a chain. Simple. Dainty. The charm says: Still Here. Everyone signed the card. Geno included. Layla looks at you, blinking.

“Y’all really came.”

You nod. “Told you. I show up when it counts.”

Paige claps you on the back. “She ain’t tell us until the last minute. We booked the whole back row of the Amtrak.”

“We brought snacks and everything,” Nika adds. “Layla, be for real—you’re basically our team baby now.”

Layla snorts, tears forgotten. “I’m okay with that.”

Azzi snaps another picture of y’all hugging. “This better go viral for the right reasons.”

———————————————————————————————

You and Layla sit on the edge of the bleachers, everyone else packing up behind you. She leans into your side, diploma in her lap, face peaceful.

“I’m glad you didn’t keep it a secret anymore,” she says softly. You smile, pulling her closer.

“You’re my little sister you repeat.

“And the whole world should know you made it.”

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[edward-munson]

bring me to life | E.M.

Summary: Eddie has had many dark days in his life. Until he meets you. Until he starts sharing his days with you– filled with late-night drives, shared smoke sessions, and laughter that feels like safety.

Pairing: Eddie Munson x f!Reader

Warnings: Smut (protected p in v), oral, mentions of drug use, hurt/comfort, fluff

Word count: 10.2k

────୨ৎ────

Eddie had only set his eyes on you once. When he put on a show at the cafeteria in front of the entire school. When Jason Carver called him a freak, you couldn’t help but snort at Eddie's demeanor. Your reaction made him snap his head directly at you with a sly smile. You've never exchanged glances after that.

He likes to sit on the bench in the middle of the woods, where he usually gets to sell his shit. It's his spot for that, no one ever goes there unless it's for buying. At least that's what he always told himself. It's just him and the trees, this time. The weather is slicing cold. Whenever he breathes, the fog leaves his mouth dramatically. He's looking at his lunchbox, his trembling fingers tapping incessantly against it.

He doesn't want to use it. He swore to himself he would never try anything else rather than weed. He's done it before and it didn't feel good. Well, he wasn't supposed to mix drugs with alcohol, but he was too overwhelmed that week and he needed to cool off. His friend offered him LSD and he didn't deny it at the moment.

Eddie never used it again. He preferred weed. But now, everything else just feels irrelevant. He's almost failing school again, the town thinks he's a major freak. Not only just a freak, a cult Satanist who apparently likes to summon demons or whatever the fuck that's supposed to mean. His name is stained. People look at him weird. Chrissy doesn't even acknowledge him anymore, even though they had dated in the past. It's been only a year. Now she's dating Jason. He huffs– of course. They're perfect for each other.

He opens the lunchbox and picks up the plastic bag. It's ketamine. He knows he's not supposed to overtake it. He knows only a small amount is enough to get him to feel numb. It's the numbness that makes him get through the days. His friends, Jeff and Gareth, have no idea what goes on in his head. He never tells them. Eddie never tells Wayne. Or Dustin. He doesn't think it's going to make any difference anyway.

His hands still shake as he raises the plastic bag and looks at the Special K. He only ever sells it. He's never even tried it. Eddie knows it's easier and faster to kick in if he injects it, but he would rather just snort it. He licks his lips, feeling his blood rushing and his heart racing.

He just wants to feel peaceful. He just wants the numbness.

Until his thoughts are interrupted by a rustling sound among the trees. You suddenly appear, but you don't see him right away. He hurriedly shoves the plastic bag into the lunchbox and closes it, trying to nonchalantly pretend he wasn't about to take Special K. You're wearing headphones, holding a book in your hands, completely unaware of your surroundings.

Eddie watches you carefully, amused to see the way you're so distracted that you still don't notice he's sitting right across from where you take a seat. He doesn't say anything at first, but he doesn't want to scare you, so he wiggles his fingers in front of you. You're startled at first, quickly pulling your headphones off and placing your book over the table.

"Jesus, you scared me."

He huffs a small laugh "Sorry, didn't mean that."

You close the book and pause the tape in your walkman, glancing up at him.

"You okay?"

There's something about him that is intriguing. He seems too loud, too smooth and too confident at school. The moment he leaves the door, he's a whole different person. You have never talked, but you have noticed it before. The way he tries to avoid social interaction even with his friends. The way he seems to always be too distant, always smoking a cigarette looking into nothing.

He shrugs. It's a lie of a shrug. Nothing about him is okay. You look at him for a long time, eyes narrowing a little like you're trying to read a language he doesn't speak anymore.

"You're not" You point it out.

"I didn't know anyone would be out here. I come here when I want to be alone" You say a little shyly.

"Same" He says in a low, rough voice.

You nod, as if you understand it. You pull the sleeves of your hoodie in discomfort, like you're trying not to feel awkward.

"Want me to leave?" You ask, trying not to stare into him for too long.

He opens his mouth and then closes it.

"No, stay" He mutters.

You nod again, and silence fills the air. It stretches for several minutes, you don't know exactly what to say and he's not in the mood to talk. Even though he tries to make sense in his head why the hell you are still sitting here, even though you asked if he wanted you to leave. You were never like the other people who glare at him. You don't judge him or look at him differently, even though you don't know each other well. You're genuine, and you don’t see him as broken.

You don't know what he carries in the lunchbox, but he seems to be staring at it so intently that it makes you wonder just why the hell he's doing that. You don't ask him, though. But somehow, for the first time, he doesn't feel numb. He feels seen.

You offer him to listen to the music in your walkman, he shades your music taste and you start an argument about it. It's not a fight, it's just a conversation. It makes him get so distracted that he forgets what he was supposed to do minutes before you got there. He laughs when you say things so naturally. Eddie looks so much more like the person you see at school, even though you know people don't actually like him.

Eddie left the woods with you on his side, he offered you a ride to your house, a place you share with Robin. You invited him for dinner because you knew he was having a hard moment before you stumbled upon him, but he denied it. You had offered him to have dinner with you too many times, you tried to convince him it was fine, that Robin wouldn't mind. He didn't want to. He didn't feel welcome.

He started inviting you to smoke weed with him in his bedroom instead of spending his time alone. At first, he's kind of nervous to have someone else inside of his personal space, but he wanted company. He wanted you to make him company. It was the first time you were actually witnessing him having fun after so long.

He glances up at you with a crooked little smirk "You ever smoked before?"

You raise an eyebrow at his question "What kind of question is that?"

He shrugs "An honest one. Could go either way with you."

You toss a Froot Loop at him. It bounces off his chest and he catches it midair with his mouth, triumphantly.

"Well?" He coaxes.

You hesitate just a second too long "A few times. Nothing major."

He grins as if that was the answer he'd been waiting for and reaches under his bed to get a wooden box that looks too beat up, with Metallica sticks that are faded and almost peeled off at the sides "Wanna get a little high with me?"

You chew on a rainbow-colored loop thoughtfully, then nod "Yeah. Okay."

"Cool." He says it casually. 

But there's a flicker of something else behind his eyes. Excitement, maybe. Nervousness, definitely. You shift on the bed, bouncing your feet as you watch him roll the joint slowly, with a care you didn't expect, the tip of his tongue peeking out between his lips while he focuses.

"You do this a lot?" You ask.

"Not as much lately" He licks the paper to seal it, and the action suddenly makes your stomach flutter "But… sometimes. When the noise gets too loud upstairs."

He is referring to thoughts in his mind, and you understand what that means. And the only way to make it easier is to read a book in the middle of the woods. Or to spend time with Steve.

Shit, Steve. You were supposed to meet him earlier that day and you completely forgot about it. You wince when you think about him, about the way he must have been worried at first, and then probably mad after calling your place and finding out you were not there.

He lights it and takes a slow drag, then hands it to you without ceremony. You take it between your fingers, inhale cautiously, feel the slow warmth spread down into your chest. It's smoother than you expected. Softer.

"See? "You're a natural" He says with a grin while watching the smoke leave your lips.

You exhale toward the ceiling and give him a lazy smile "I think I'm just trying to impress you."

He laughs and leans his head back against the dresser with a satisfied sigh "Shit. You already do."

There's a long silence after that, but not awkward. It's quiet, intimate. The kind of silence that makes everything else fade out, like the hum of the fridge down the hall. He feels weird after saying something like that out loud, and curses himself for talking too much. 

You take another hit and pass it back, his fingers brush against yours.

"Y'know, you being here... it's kinda weird" He says as smoke curls out of his mouth.

You glance down at him, surprised. "Weird how?"

He shrugs, his eyes moving to follow the trace of smoke "Just– I don't usually hang out with people like this. In here. It's my little cave, you know? Most people don't stick around long enough to see it."

You look around his messy room, his bed is unmade, there are faded posters on the wall and too many guitar picks spread on his night stand. Somehow, you're glad they weren't condoms.

"I like it here" You say honestly.

His eyes flick to yours and his brows crease "Yeah?"

You nod "It's… you."

He looks away again, suddenly shy, and hands you the joint "Be careful. Say things like that and I might start thinking you mean it."

"I do mean it" You say quietly, taking another drag. "I'm not here out of pity, Munson."

He grins without looking at you after a beat of a moment passed "Yeah, well. You'd have to pity yourself too, being seen in this disaster zone."

You laugh, curling up tighter on the bed, starting to feel the high settling inside of you "You're not that much of a disaster."

"Oh, I absolutely am" He says as he climbs the bed and dramatically flops down beside you with a sigh "I'm a walking tornado of long hair, bad decisions, and emotional damage."

You nudge him with your knee "You forgot 'kind of sweet sometimes when you're not looking.'"

He goes quiet at that. Eddie turns his head on the pillow to look at you, a soft look in his eyes "You think I'm sweet?"

"You say that like it's something impossible" You reply.

He stares at you for a second like he's not sure what to do with that. Then he looks up at the ceiling "Shit. I'm so high right now."

You laugh, and the sound makes his eyes flick back to you again, like he can't help it. He reaches out, like instinct, and gently tugs on the hem of your sleeve.

"Thanks for being here tonight" He says a little quieter.

You nudge your foot against his "Thanks for asking me."

You just lie there, even though the joint is nearly burned out, just side by side. Not touching, but close enough to feel each other's warmth in that moment. He keeps looking at you from the corner of his eye. 

And you pretend not to notice.

You really needed to have a conversation with Steve at this point. You've been turning down every invitation to go out with him. Either it was something you had to do, or simply because you wanted to stay with Eddie instead. But it wasn't fair to him, even though you didn't have anything serious going on. You slowly became distant, like you were avoiding him, and he started to notice the way you kept giving him excuses. 

And you didn't know why, you didn't know how. It felt like a magnet kept pulling you back to Eddie.

You get inside Benny's, sliding into the booth across from Steve at the same spot you've always been to. The sunset crosses the table and catches the rims of his sunglasses, as he pushes them up into his hair. He's already got your order waiting, the same as always. That used to mean something. At least to him. 

You sit down and smile at him and he does the same. Although, there's something different about the way his lips curl and it makes your stomach flinch. 

"Hey, you made it" He says gently and you nod. 

"I did" You pick the fries and dip them in your favorite sauce. 

"So, how's Eddie?" His voice is light, somehow. 

You blink "Eddie?"

"Yeah" He leans back in the booth, arms crossed, but not in a mean way. He just seems closed off "The guy you've been with every day for the last, I don't know, three weeks?"

Your heart does that uncomfortable flip with guilt, mostly. But also something else, something you're not sure how to name yet.

"I didn't realize it was that obvious" You murmur.

Suddenly the fries didn't seem very appetizing for you anymore. 

Steve just gives you a half-smile "You forgot to meet me the other night. Remember?"

Your stomach turns again.

"Oh god. Steve, I'm so sorry. I completely spaced, I thought it was next Thursday."

You didn't space, you were getting high with Eddie that day. Or maybe you did space a little bit.

You cover your mouth with your hand and sigh. 

"Shit. That's not like me. I didn't mean to–"

"I know you didn't. I know" He says quickly. 

You look at each other as silence between you sharpens, as he looks down at his own dish for a moment. 

"I'm sorry I've been a shitty friend" You reach out for his hand and Steve glances up at you with a small smile on his face.

"Yeah you were, a little bit" You scoff and swat his hand away, ripping a chuckle from his mouth. 

"I'm gonna have to make it up to you, don't I?" 

He tilts his head, rubbing his chin theatrically. You roll your eyes "Yeah, pretty much. But don't worry, I won't be mean."

You both chuckle as you look at each other for a moment. He reaches for your hand again and you take his hand, your fingers grazing his skin. The softness of his hand has always been one of your favorite things about him. It made you feel wanted, it made you feel safe. But maybe it could still make you feel safe, even if not in the same way as before. 

"So, Eddie…" He drags, stealing a few fries from your plate. 

"What about him?" 

"You two are pretty close" He says nonchalantly, like he can see there's more to it than you'd ever admit.

"He's a good friend, it's nice to have someone as crazy as he is around" Your voice almost – almost – sounds like syrup. Like it gives off something more. 

Steve hums and starts bombing you with questions about Eddie, your friendship, your small encounters in the woods. Where you listen to music, where Eddie spends his time judging your music taste all the time. 

He listens to you ramble and notices the way your eyes sparkle with affection when you talk about the metalhead.

You get a ride back home with him, you wish you could invite him inside and stay with him for the rest of the night. But it didn't feel right anymore. Something inside of you kept screaming back saying that it wasn't what you really wanted. Not with him, at least. So you give him a kiss, the last one. It makes his stomach flutter and his heart race, but he knows it's temporary. He knows it's not what you really want. 

Steve knows he's not the one you want to kiss, and he also knows this was never meant to be something. 

That day, you were all invited to Reefer Rick's house party. Eddie picked Robin and you, told you to stay with him at all times and demanded you don't take any drugs from anyone. You both nodded, giggling at the mother-like figure, amused. You spent the whole night together, drinking and smoking his weed.

He had never felt more alive before. He missed his friends, he missed playing in the band. He had distanced himself because he didn't feel like himself anymore. It only happened because of you. Because you showed up before he made a decision that would change his entire life.

You're lying on the grass, chatting, laughing and making jokes that don't make sense. Whenever Rick showed up offering something different you would make a fuss about it and mock Eddie for telling you to not accept drugs from strangers. A few things changed that day. You had become closer, he and Robin became best friends.

He had finally gotten to know Steve, realizing the former jock wasn't a douchebag anymore. He was kinda nice, and funny. He was really close to the teens and that seemed to have made a difference.

It was the first time he actually got inside your house. He slept on the couch, woke up early– before you two. Made you breakfast, watered your plants. Eddie made you listen to the radio he usually likes to listen to. He made fun of yours and Robin's music taste. He even forgot he was hungover from drinking and smoking weed. Things seemed to have been pretty decent for him, he forgot why he was so upset in the first place.

But you noticed that crack between reality and fantasy he had suddenly created after you started hanging out. You noticed the subtle change of humor out of nowhere, the way his eyes would momentarily flick from happiness to sadness when no one was looking. You wanted to pull him aside and actually ask him how he was feeling, what was intriguing him.

You know he's not exactly the town's favorite person, you know people liked to scrutinize him in order to see if he was actually a devil worshiper. He's fucking far from that.

You would see the way Eddie would drop his gaze every time he and Steve were together. Like he was less important, like he wasn't worth being a friend. As if he was the outcast who people pitied. He didn't wear fancy clothes or colognes, he didn't have expensive cars. He didn't have a beautiful face and a good reputation. He wasn't a girl's magnet, and god– he had never wanted that anyway.

But you would never notice the way he looked at you when you smiled or laughed. Or when you made him breakfast or dinner. Or when you made stupid jokes just to make him laugh. The way he called you "sweetie" all the time for a reason, and maybe he knew he would never actually have you more than just a friend.

He couldn't stop looking at you. At school, he had to ground himself, otherwise he would spend the entire break in the cafeteria just gawking at you. He did it like a fucking hawk. When you would leave school with Steve or Robin, he would wonder what you were doing that day. Whenever you spent the days apart from him, he just stared into his bedroom wall thinking what it would be like to just sleep you.

And he means sleep, not sex. Obviously, he wanted to have sex with you, he's miserably in love with you and it hasn't even been that long since you've actually met each other properly. He's head over heels for you and he feels lame for that.

Because why on Earth someone just like you, would want to have anything to do with him?

The answer he doesn't know is: everything. Your eyes would always look for him at school. You would always check if his van was parked, even thought he'd told you Wayne also uses it every once in a while. You keep checking the woods, and when you see him sitting on that bench, your heart would start racing.

It was ridiculous. It felt like you were 12 years old. It felt like you had never been there before. And you did, once. It wasn't the greatest thing to ever happen to you though, but you had been in love before. Probably not like that.

You didn't know, but this one was ravishing. If you two weren't together, it was like the world just didn't function.

And when Eddie sees you with Steve? God, he just wished the ground beneath his feet would just open and swallow him. He got nothing compared to the former jock. Nothing.

Little did he know, you weren't sleeping with Steve anymore.

You were helping him wash his van. It was a spring afternoon, the sun was burning upon your heads. He didn't put on sunscreen and you know he was going to get sunburned, he was just too stubborn.

"Lift the hose a little more, so I can get the dust off" He asked, stepping onto a plastic chair.

He was wearing only shorts, and his body was covered in tattoos that stretched from his neck down to his waist, even across his stomach. You had rarely seen him shirtless before, and it made you feel flushed. Your cheeks burned, but you weren't sure if it was from the sun. 

As he scrubbed the top of his van, you held the hose up.

"Sweetie" He says, pulling you out of your thoughts "You're almost soaking me!"

You look at him as water sprays from the hose, nearly drenching him. You giggle and splash water into his face with your arm. He scoffs, quickly steps down from the chair, covers his face, and drops the sponge he was using.

"You menace... You're gonna regret that!" His tone is playful and you laugh at him, your hand moving to cover him with water again "You're lucky it's hot!"

He steps toward you and you squeal when he wraps his arms around your waist.

"Eddie, no! Eddie–" He easily pulls the hose out of your hand and soaks you. You feel the goosebumps from the coldness, but it feels refreshing to be wet.

You try to snatch the hose from his hand, but he's stronger than you. The more you attempt to rip it out of his grasp, the more he holds you. Water sprays wildly as you both tumble slightly off-balance, landing in a puddle of water.

His arms wrap around you instinctively to keep you steady, and when the laughing starts to die down, he notices he's still holding you. Still flushed from the sun, from the chase, from something else that hasn't been said yet. He doesn't let you go. He doesn't want to let you go.

Eddie locks his eyes on your lips, it lingers there. He swallows harshly, feeling his heart thumping against his chest, his ears ringing. He hesitates, like he always does when something matters. He doesn't want to ruin things between you, he doesn't want to lose you. You're the only good thing that happened in his life. Well, Robin too. And maybe Steve. But you, you're different.

His fingers tighten ever so slightly on your waist, his breathing is shaky, but he doesn't move. As if he's afraid of messing it up, as though kissing you might burn him. But you do it first. You don't overthink it, you lean in and press your lips against his. Slowly and gently. His breath catches in his throat and he holds back the urge to grunt, he doesn't want to sound greedy. 

And then he melts into it. His hand slides up to your back, into your wet hair, and his mouth moves against yours like he's been waiting a thousand lifetimes for this. He kisses you like you're both made of glass, careful to not break the moment. You have to pull back to catch your breath and he's staring at you like you just remade him entirely. Like he's in another universe.

"Holy shit" He whispers, ripping a giggle out of you.

"Yeah."

You look into each other like the rest of the world doesn't matter. But the hose splashes water across both your feet and you laugh, leaning your forehead against his. You feel the way he squeezes your waist like he doesn't want to let go of you, not yet.

Eddie pulls his van up on your driveway and kills the engine. His fingers grip the wheel a little too tight for his liking, because he doesn't want to let go of you, not yet. He's afraid that, if he does, you won't ever come back. And he doesn't want you to slip away from him.

His jaw tightens and his lips press together firmly. You unbuckle the seatbelt and turn over to look at him.

Your shirt is still clinging to your back, damp from the hose, and your hair is a mess. Eddie's fingers drum against the steering wheel like he's trying to keep himself calm.

You look at him and he's already looking at you.

There's a faint blush on his cheeks, the kind that doesn't match the usual bravado he carries around. His curls are still damp, one of them is stuck to his jaw. He looks half-boy, half-wrecked, like that kiss cracked something open he's not ready to put into words yet.

"You want me to walk you to the door?" He asks quietly, wincing at the question immediately.

What kind of question is that? You don't ask someone, you just do. He thinks.

You smile "You trying to be a gentleman now?"

He shrugs bashfully "Maybe I just want a reason to stay longer."

The sentence sits in the air between you. It's soft, but heavy at the same time. Your stomach keeps fluttering at the sight in front of you.

"I don't have to go in yet" You say simply.

He looks up at you, surprised. Then his whole face softens, like you just gave him the answer he needed.

"Okay. Cool. Yeah. Okay" He breathes and you chuckle at his nervousness.

You sit there like that, just… being. Your left hand rests on his bare knee and he hesitates. Should he take your hand between his and just leave it there?

"Can I ask you something?" He says suddenly.

You nod.

"Did you want to kiss me before I kissed you?"

"I kissed you" You correct, smiling.

He grins, looking down "Right, that. You know what I mean."

You squeeze his hand gently and he seems more flushed than before "Yeah, I did."

He glances at you through his lashes, something flickering in his eyes, something that's not just attraction. Something deeper. Something like relief.

"Good. That's good" He gives you a soft, but timid smile.

You both just stay quiet again. The sun starts dipping into the horizon, behind the tress, casting an orange glow in the sky. Eddie eyes you a little nervously, before scooting closer to you. Your legs both separated by the gear shift knob. You tilt your head and purse your lips, anticipation bubbling inside of you for what's about to happen again.

He lifts his hand and cradles your face, smacking your lips together a little too tenderly. When his lips part, yours follow, and your tongues meet in a soft sweep. It's tender and intimate this time, it's the kind of kiss that makes your heart squeeze and your lungs forget what air is like. His fingers tighten slightly along your jaw, digging into your skin.

He exhales into your mouth, a quiet sound that sends goosebumps trailing down your spine. You shift a little closer, and your knee brushes his.

He pulls back just a breath away, his lips still hovering over yours.

You can still taste the bubblegum he had earlier, right after having lunch. His breath hits your skin and it's like you're frozen in time. Eddie, on the other hand, seems frazzled. As if his mind had been working to funcion ever since he noticed his feelings for you.

He walked you to your door, kissed you again, waited until you locked it and walked to his van. It took him a couple of minutes until his soul came back to his body and he finally took in what just happened. He drove back to his trailer with a smile on his lips that wouldn't slip away, his cheeks started to cramp.

That night, he laid in bed and close his eyes. He saw flashes of the day he spent with you like a movie. His skin shivered at the thought of you under him in his frontyard, all soaked and smiling. Your face a little sunburned. At the thought of your lips against his in a wet kiss.

He groaned and shoved the pillow against his face. He was fucked up, he knew that.

~•°☆

He suddenly became absent. After your kiss, at least. You wouldn't see him that much around at school, and when you walked to the spot in the woods, he wouldn't be there. Jeff and Gareth were seeing him less and less as well, and it left you wondering what could've happened. You didn't feel intimate, for some reason, to ask him what was happening. Steve said he hadn't seen his friend either, and neither did Dustin.

Eddie didn't want to tell anyone how bad he had been feeling. He didn't own anyone explanations of his whereabouts. Something inside of him just bloomed when he saw how close you and Steve were. How he would hover around you during class breaks, how you would crack at whatever the fuck he'd be telling you.

He felt as though he'd been used. Like you felt sorry he probably had only kissed one girl in his life.

You started to feel worried about him, about his well-being. It didn't take you more than a week to finally follow him when you saw him leaving school. He wasn't driving that day, so you tried to hurry your way up to his trailer and actually wait for him. You had met Wayne before- he liked you, he wouldn't mind if you waited there. He knew Eddie can be quiet and often shut everyone out.

You waited for him. You've waited for several hours, you had to tell Robin where you were because it was getting too late. Wayne had to leave for work, it was already 1 a.m. when he left. Eddie arrived an hour later. You were glad he wasn't driving, because he was drunk. He tripped over the steps of the trailer before getting in, not seeing you first until you almost gave him a heart attack from your yelling.

"Where the hell were you?" You asked, your voice too loud, stunning him the moment he closed the door behind him.

He dropped his keys, clutching his chest and squinting his eyes "Jesus Christ."

Eddie looked at you through his hazy eyes, his body unbalanced from the whiskey he had.

"What the hell are you doing here? How did you get in?" He slurred.

"Wayne" You roll your eyes "Where were you, Eddie?"

You help him walk to his bedroom, where you had been only once, and sit him down on his bed. His body was completely uncoordinated because of the alcohol. You help him remove his shirt and his jeans, not caring if he was almost naked in front of you.

"Eddie–"

"Why do you care? You all pity me! You all feel bad for me, I can take a fucking hint" He lashes out all of a sudden and it startles you "You feel bad for me, you feel sorry for me. Poor Eddie must have never kissed anyone in his life, so maybe I'll kiss him just so he can die a satisfied, not a virgin-kiss man!"

"What?" Your voice trips and you feel the tension and the pressure building up in your chest "I have never felt bad for you, Eddie. Not once in my life, not even when I didn't know you!"

He chuckles, putting on his shirt but it's inside out. The label of the fabric is in the front. He almost stumbles over his backpack and he curses when he can't even put his pants on.

"Let me help you" You offer, but he lifts his hand up in denial.

"I don't need your help. I don't need anyone's help. I'm a lost cause and a fucking failure! Why did you even kiss me in the first place?"

He didn't make any sense and it stung. Because he thought you only kissed him out of pity.

"Because I wanted to, you idiot! You're not a failure, Eddie! Don't let what other people say get into your head, please. You're a nice person, you're kind, you're funny. You're special, you make us laugh, you make us have a good time. We love being around you, I love being with you!"

Eddie slumps down onto the floor, his back hitting the foot of his bed. He shoves his face into his hands, his arms on top of his knees. He starts crying, and it surprises you because not once in your life did you see him cry in front of anyone.

He sobs and he's not even ashamed, his chest rumbles from the weeping. You bend down, placing a hand over his hair, pulling the strands of his bangs out of his face. He doesn't look at you, he's not even sure he wants to look at you.

Because he's afraid of seeing that face. The face of someone who feels bad for him.

"Eddie... Please look at me."

He doesn't. He shakes his head and cries into his hands. He starts rocking back and forth, mumbling incoherent words you can't make out.

"Eds, it's me" You place your hand on top of his, carefully trying to pull it back. Trying to bring comfort to him.

But he's shocked when he hears his nickname roll out of your tongue. You've called him that before, he always liked it. He always liked the way you called him that. But it's different this time, it hits deep within.

He lifts his head up and meets your eyes. Your caring, loving eyes. His eyes are bloodshot red and puffy, just like his lips. His cheeks are flushed and wet, there are still tears streaming down his face. He leans into your touch, your thumb swiping away his tears.

"I've never felt sorry for you. I've never felt bad for you, I don't see you as a lost cause or a failure, or anything for that matter... Eddie, you're the most important person in my life. You're the most genuine person I know..."

He sniffles and diverts his gaze. He thinks back to the few times he saw you hanging on Steve's neck, even after he had met you. He lets out a huff, looking down at his knees.

"I'm sure you feel the same way about Steve. But the only difference is that he's not a fucking loser."

You pull back only a few inches, scanning his features. Is that jealousy? Was he jealous of Steve the whole time? But you were not even together.

"You're not a loser. And I love Steve, he's my friend."

He laughs this time, and even though his face holds that weird laugh, he still manages to cry.

"Who fucks their friend?"

It comes out bitter and his tongue weighs a hundred pounds for saying that. You raise your brows, scoffing.

"We're not hooking up anymore, Munson. And we've always been friends, even then."

Eddie feels like a bucket of ice had been dropped on top of his head. He should've known. He hasn't seen you around each other like that anymore, but maybe he refused to believe that. Maybe he wanted to believe he wasn't interesting enough for you. Maybe he wanted to see what felt right for him.

But he was wrong.

"I'm sorry. I'm fucking sorry, sweetie" He starts crying again, and this time, you pull him in for a tight hug "I'm a fucking mess."

"It's okay, Eds. You're not a mess, stop saying things like that."

You rest your chin onto his head, your fingers curl between his hair and he tries to ease his anxiety, but it only worsens when he thinks about the things he wanted to do until you showed up.

"You're going to hate me, sweetie. You're going to hate me when I tell you what I was about to do that day we met. You'll want to leave me, I know you will."

You glance at him and see the way he's looking at you. He's afraid. He's fucking afraid. He's desperate to get it all out of his chest, to get it over with. Because you deserve to know he was getting worse and worse.

"Eddie, I would never do that" You place a kiss on the back of his hand and he softens "No matter how bad it is. I'm always here."

He tried to hold back the tears that kept soaking his shirt. He stuttered the words out, he rambled and the whole time he told you about it, he couldn't stand looking at you.

"I just– I thought it would be a distraction. I'm so fucking tired of being judged for doing nothing" He mumbles in his crying and you stroke his hair.

"I never told you what I was doing out there in the woods the day we met."

He doesn't look at you when he speaks, and you go still. 

"I had it in my lunchbox. Special K. That's what they call it, right? Ketamine."

You don't say anything. Not yet.

"I wasn't… I wasn't gonna do anything dramatic, or permanent, or anything. I just…" He shakes his head, feeling his jaw clench "I wanted to not exist for a while. Just float away and feel nothing. Like the weight would finally shut up."

Your heart aches for him.

"I didn't even think it through. I just took my lunchbox and went there. The woods would be quiet enough, far enough. No one would see me wreck myself."

He gulped, trying to focus his eyes on something else.

"And then you showed up. Headphones on, reading a fucking book like you were walking through Narnia."

You try to smile, but your throat is too tight.

"I remember thinking…" Eddie lets out a shaky laugh "God, I remember thinking 'of course this beautiful girl just waltzes into my overdose like it's a goddamn indie movie'."

You press your hands quietly over his and he doesn't pull away. 

"I didn't take it. Because you looked at me like I wasn't invisible. You waved, you smiled. You sat down and just… stayed."

A tear slips down your cheek before you can stop it.

"I never thought anyone would" His voice breaks again "Not after all the shit with Chrissy. The town, the hiding. The guilt, the loneliness. I didn't think anyone should."

"Eddie" You whisper, tightening your fingers over his hand "You didn't deserve any of that. None of it was your fault."

"I know" He says quietly "Now, I do, sort of. But back then I was so tired of trying to prove I wasn't poison."

His words hit you too strongly. You don't see him like that, you never did. Not even back then at the cafeteria, not when you saw him hurrying out of the school to be alone. 

"I'm really glad you didn't take it" You whisper.

"Yeah. Me too."

You take both of his hands and kiss his knuckles. Your eyes glued to his brown red-rimmed ones that are still glassy. Eddie watches your gentleness and sighs, trying to compose himself. You drop your hands for only a moment, pulling him closer to you for a hug. You cried for him, you cried with him. You couldn't help but feel bad for him because he deserved more than just pain.

"You have me. You have your friends from Hellfire, even Robin. And mostly, you have your uncle. Just promise me you won't ever do that."

"Shit, sweetie. I'm really sorry, I didn't mean to bring you into this mess."

"Don't apologize, I'm glad I'm here with you now. We'll get through this, together. I'm always going to be here for you" Your voice is low, gentle and caring.

You hold him up, help him change his clothes and sit him on his bed. After that, you head to the kitchen to make him some tea. The warm drink helps calm him down; he stops crying, and the stress seems to dissipate. 

It was almost dawn when you both went to bed and just laid there. You kept smoothing his hair while his head rested on your shoulder. His arm was wrapped around your waist, and his cool, ringed fingers grazed your skin underneath your shirt.

It was the first time you actually slept with him like this, and it felt so good.

You spent the entire weekend together. You took him to your house and you watched movies with him, while Robin stayed at Vickie's. He didn't want to leave you. He kept clinging to you as if you were to disappear. He snuggled against your neck, placing kisses over your skin. You danced to the songs playing on the radio even if they were metal songs.

Eddie wanted to know more about you. He asked about your situationship with Steve, and you told him you ended things only a few weeks after you had met him. He giggled quietly, he knew why. He just couldn't believe it. And maybe you knew that too, but played cool just to see what his reaction would be.

After the weekend, when you told Robin how it went, she couldn't stop gasping. Because she noticed the way you would turn down Steve's offer to have sex every time he had the chance. He asked Robin a few times if you were seeing anybody else and just didn't want to tell him, she said no. When she finally realized the way you and Eddie became too close, she figured it all out.

"Oh my God! You had a crush on him!" She said loudly and you furrowed your brows "You're so slow, Jesus."

"It wasn't a crush, I just liked being around him!"

"Exactly. Because you have a crush on Munson" She pointed at you playfully with a smug face.

"... Maybe"

Your cheeks blushed and she giggled, giving you a hug.

Steve met Eddie at The Hideout for a few drinks. The metalhead himself invited his friend out, he wanted to become closer. He wanted to fit in, he wanted to give himself a chance. Steve might have looked at him differently in the past, but he's grown fond of him.

The former jock mentioned your fling, the way you would give him excuses every time. And all those times you denied his invitation were the times you spent with Eddie. It clicked right then and there. He put two and two together.

Steve laughed.

"Robin would tell me she was with you. Guess I figured why" Steve said, taking a swig of his beer.

Eddie felt a leap in his heart, a tug in his chest. A warmth that kept spreading across his face.

"Sorry I stole her from you."

"Nah" Steve shrugged "It was never serious. And I can see how happy she is with you. And how much you have changed since you met her."

He couldn't fight the grin. Eddie wasn't sure you had a crush back then, but it all makes sense now. Back then, it was just a friendship for him, surprisingly.

"She really likes you, man. We all like you" He bumps his shoulder against Eddie's, a lipped smile on his face.

They've been sitting in comfortable silence for a while.

And then Steve says it, not like an accusation, or even a joke. But with a careful tone that lands too soft, which surprised Eddie.

"So… you kissed her."

Eddie doesn't answer right away, he just drags his head back against the wall behind him with a low groan.

Steve smirks "I'll take that as a yes."

"Shut up" Eddie mutters, dragging a hand down his face.

Steve watches him playfully "Was it good?"

Eddie exhales, like he doesn't have another option but to tell Steve "It was… yeah. Yeah, it was more than good."

Steve nods once and smiles, tapping him on the thigh. He takes another sip from his can "You love her?"

Eddie blinks "That's… I don't know."

"Yes, you do."

Eddie groans "I hate how smug you sound."

"I am smug. I knew from the second you started showing up to hangouts late, and looking all... floaty."

"Floaty?"

"Yeah. You had that look. Like your heart was full and your brain had left the building."

Eddie shakes his head "You're the worst therapist."

Steve shrugs. "Maybe. But I'm not wrong."

The metalhead figdet with the hem of his sleeve, staring down at the floor. His friend doesn't say anything either, letting the quiet stretch a little longer.

"I'm actually scared" He says.

Steve furrow his brows and becomes more serious "Of what?"

"That I'm gonna ruin it. Or that I already have."

"You didn't" Steve says without hesitation. "You were honest. You let her in, and that's the hardest part."

Eddie doesn't answer, but his shoulders unroll at ease.

"Hey" Steve adds, nudging him with his foot "For what it's worth? I'm glad it was you."

Eddie looks up at him, a little startled "What?"

"With her" Steve clarifies, like it's obvious "You were a mess, but you still showed up. You care. That's the only thing that matters."

Eddie stares at him "You're really gonna let me off the hook that easy?"

Steve smirks "No. You mess it up, I will kick your ass. But until then… yeah. I'm rooting for you."

Eddie lets out a slow, shaky breath, and nods. And for the first time in days, maybe weeks, he lets himself believe it.

I like her too. I like her a lot. I actually love her. He wanted to say.

He felt a strange sensation inside him that he hadn't experienced in a long time. It was happiness. It was acceptance. He was no longer alone.

~•°☆

You would show up at school with Eddie tangled in your arms. He didn't care that people gave you the weird looks, the glaring. He also didn't want to cause a commotion, so he would only stop by to kiss you during class breaks. He would sit with his friends at the cafeteria and throw you a few glances. Whenever he did that, your heart would race and you would feel your legs numb.

Oh, the young love.

Eddie started pulling you into the janitor's room. Lock the door behind him, dig his fingers into the small of your back, kiss you with lust. His tongue would do things to you. Not only when you kiss. He always slips his tongue across your skin, licking your pulse point, then leaving a spit trail until he reaches your ear lobe. He bites into the spot and rips a moan out of your mouth.

He didn't know how he would make it to the other classes without busting in his pants. Maybe he became an expert at putting weird thoughts into his head. He would lose his boner immediately after thinking about Mrs. Click. Worked every time.

Eddie takes you on simple dates. He's not fancy, he doesn't like fancy. When you say you want something like that, he does it only to please you. But you never bothered going to a simple diner or a cafeteria. Or bowling. Or karaoke. Or even The Hideout. You always have the most fun there, either way. You'd drink until you feel tipsy, get home and just spend the rest of the night kissing.

He takes his time with you. He wants to fuck you, he wants to make love to you. He wants you in all honesty, but he doesn't want to ruin it. Even though you've done it before. Multiple times. With Steve. He can't compete, but he doesn't want to compare himself to another man. He knows you like his tattoos, he lets you kiss them all over. He feels smug every time you look at his bulge and your eyes flicker with pleasure.

Robin is once again out. You had just arrived from Rink-O-Mania after too many attempts at standing on your feet and failing every time. You're both laughing too hard, talking about your day. Something snaps in your head and you lead him to your bedroom, and he thinks "finally".

You being the one to lead it to sex is something interesting to him. You push him onto your bed, straddling him. You spread kisses all over Eddie, all over his tattoos. You take his shirt off, your mouth lingers on his sensitive spot between his sternum. He shivers when you press your tongue flat on his skin.

He pulls your hair carefully, almost lifting his body to feel you even more. One of your hands goes down to his jeans, unbuckling his belt and unzipping the fabric. His heart is hammering and he almost can't hear anything. He's too stunned, he's too fucking stunned. Your fingers graze his boxers and stroke his cock through the damp material, making his lips leave a grunt. You keep stroking him up and down, your mouth finds his and he latches onto you. His tongue swipes against yours in a way that makes your core heat up even more.

You're soaking for him, your jeans are almost stained with your slick. You lower his boxers and finally pump him, feeling his thick cock around your fingers. Your fingers slip against his hardness, his tip leaks with precum incessantly, and the more you stroke him, the more he groans against your lips. He thrusts against your hand, he whimpers against your mouth.

Eddie is already a fucking mess and he really loves it. He doesn't care if he's loud, if he's greedy. He takes off your shirt and your bra, his thumb pressing your nipple in circles, rubbing your skin keenly. His fingertips dig into you as you bring him to the edge of his bliss. His cock twitches between your hand and you chuckle against the kiss. You pull back and give him a peck before making your way down his body, a coil inside his stomach kicks in as he glances at you.

Your eyes never leave him, even when you wrap your lips around his dick, but he can't hold back the moan. He throws his head back onto the pillow with a gruffed mumble, his hand flying down your hair as he pulls it back. You slide down his length, his tip reaching the back of your throat carefully. You almost gag on it and he buckles his hips forward.

When you finally adjust to his size, you suck him off, pulling your head up and down while you stroke him. He's whimpering and moaning and groaning, whispering your name and rolling his eyes to the back of his head.

"Fuck, sweetie. This is so good–" He rasps under his heavy breathing.

You lock eyes with him, bobbing your head, licking his wetness and gently sucking his tip. Your cheekbones hurt but you love the feeling of getting him off. He pushes your hair to the side so he can have a better look, his hips buckling to meet your throat. Eddie is about to explode, but he wants to last longer. He wants to cum with you, he wants to cum inside of you so bad.

He pushes you back, hissing when the air hits his soaking cock. There's spit everywhere and he twitches at the sight. He glances at you, there's lust in your eyes, your lips are plump and red. Eddie pulls you into another kiss, not giving a fuck of tasting himself in your mouth. He turns you over and spreads kisses over your chest and your breasts, sucking on your nipples.

He grazes your skin between his teeth, his tongue rolling on it. You find yourself grinding against him, his warm cock pressing your thighs. He hums against your damp skin, tracing your stomach until he reaches for your jeans. He pulls it off along with your panties and he huffs.

"So perfect. So beautiful, sweetie" He muses you, his rough and calloused fingers trace your inner thigh gently.

He spreads your legs open and eyes you. The moment you lock eyes with him, he gives you a sweet, but sly smile before diving into your core. His heart beats too fast and he feels his hands trembling a little bit, but he tries to avoid thinking about that. He kisses your clit, ripping a moan out of you, your hips rolling in response. He repeats the action and uses two fingers to open your slit. Your legs immediately tend to close against his head and he chuckles, but his cock responds to it as well. You're breathing quickly, your hand lands on his messy curls.

The finally licks up a stripe of your pussy, sending shivers down your entire body. He presses his tongue against your clit and rolls it around your sensitive spot.

"Eds, this is so good" You whine, pulling a fistful of his hair.

He keeps grinning, licking you up, pressing his tongue flat onto your slit, sliding against your slick skin. You feel the tip of his tongue against your entrance, moaning his name every few seconds, a jolt of electricity running between your legs.

"Your pussy is so good, sweetie" He mumbles, eating you eagerly.

He takes in every drop of your juices, he tastes you. Eddie sucks your skin and pulls his head back with your clit between his lips and you cry out. You roll your hips against his face, his nose nudges your clit every time he licks your entrance. He slips two fingers inside of you, making you gasp. Making you feel breathless. He pumps in and out of you, with his rings still on his fingers, the cool metal touching your skin.

You can't hold back your moans, your hand pulls his hair back and Eddie groans against your skin. He savors your wetness with everything within him. He curls his fingers inside of you, just the way you like it. There's something different about him, even though you've fucked Steve before, something about Eddie makes you wet.

You're about to cum when he notices the way you start clenching around his fingers, so he retreats. You whine at the absence of him in your core, and you feel hot when you watch the way he sucks on his fingers. His eyes closed, his brows furrowing, his throat roaring.

"Fuck, you are so hot" Your voice comes out hoarse with pleasure.

Eddie latches onto you again, his lips smacking against yours. He slips his fingers between your pussy and starts stroking you, his hips rolling against your thigh so you can feel his cock. You can't stop moaning his name and he loves every second of it.

You only break apart when you open the drawer to pick a condom. He's still kissing your neck as you unwrap it.

"Do you mind?" You ask, holding the material in front of you.

"Fuck, no" He picks the condom from your hand and doesn't even waste another second putting it on himself.

You would have done that, but he's more greedy than ever and you don't mind it.

He straddles you, kissing you and your skin until he's on top of you. He grips his cock and aligns himself into your entrance, pushing carefully for you to adjust to him.

"Holy fucking shit" He groans, his biceps contract and he can barely support his own weight.

You kiss him again, heaving as he pushes further into you until there's nothing left. He's balls deep into you. His thrusts are slow at first. He can't hurt you. Eddie holds one of your legs up, he grips on your skin and starts thrusting faster. He digs his head on the curve of your neck, his breath hitting your skin. He grunts over your ear and you clench around him.

"Please, fuck me baby" He begs.

It's the first time he calls you that.

The pounds faster, his hand now slipping up to the curve of your breast. His thumb holds you in place as he comes back and forth. He starts to regret not tying up his hair. It's all sweaty and sticking to his skin. His cock slips in and out of you, his balls slap against your skin just as his hips.

"Yes Eddie, just like that" You shudder under him, your hands scratching the skin on his back. Your nails are digging into him.

He doesn't care at all.

He looks at you, he takes in the sight of you in pleasure. You roll your eyes when he snaps his hips into you once. He does it again, and again. His cock twitches and he knows he won't last much longer.

"I need you to look at me, sweetie" He asks. You struggle to open your eyes and when you do, you grind against him.

Your clit strokes against his skin and it's enough to take you out. You feel the pressure building up the most he splits you open, the more the tip of his cock hits your sweet spot.

You lock eyes and everything changes. He begins to lose strength when he feels the climax reaching its peak. But he doesn't stop, he keeps his eyes on you the whole time. You crease your brows and bite your lips.

"Cum with me, Eds" Your voice is like honey to him and he nods.

He pounds you roughly, not fast. It's about the way he does it, not how quick it is. It's perfect, it's enough for you to widen your eyes and leave a brutal moan. It's so loud, he smirks. Your legs tremble under him and you start shaking.

"Good girl."

He whispers. And another wave of pleasure immediately crashes and it's stronger this time. Your eyes roll and you convulse to his cock that's twitching inside of you. He's groaning "fuck" a hundred times a second, he shudders on top of you and almost collapses. He sputters inside the condom and falls limply beside you, his arm still wrapped around you. 

You both turn on your sides to face each other, his chest is still rising unevenly, but he's not feeling exhausted. He's thriving. There's a slight stunned kind of peace that follows a moment he never thought would happen.

There's a soft beat of silence. He's watching you like he's still trying to make sure this is real– like he's not convinced he didn't dream the whole thing. His eyes are wide and soft, still a little dazed, like he's memorizing the shape of your face. You reach up slowly, fingers brushing through his hair, and gently tug at the strands that have fallen into his eyes. His bangs are stuck to his forehead with sweat, curling just slightly at the ends.

"Your hair's a mess" You tease in a whisper.

He smiles, a real one, lazy and crooked and too full of affection "Yeah? You gonna sue me?"

You hum, brushing your thumb across his temple "I might. For emotional damage."

He huffs out a laugh "You're really here."

"I am."

He lifts his rough hand and trails his fingertips on your bare arm, as if he's drawing a path there "I'm glad you didn't leave me that day."

You nudge your forehead against his gently "I wanted to stay. I want every part of it, every part of you."

He goes still for a moment, before feeling the burning sensation in his core, like the last piece of armor has finally dropped. Like this is what it feels like to be safe. And when his eyes close, and your fingers are still tangled in his hair, you know that whatever this is, it's real. Not just the sex. 

And to him, you're the best part of his day. You've brought him to life again– and this time, he feels like life it's finally worth living. 

[ditzyrafe]

hear me out

rafe x reader in a crowded public setting and rafes ignoring reader, so she moans his name to get his attention??

love ya !

— dom!rafe punishing u for moaning in public

warnings — mean!rafe, degradation, use of the word 'slut', public sex (kinda), lewd language

a/n — i lowkey hate this... sorry i didn't do this ask justice🥲

the cold shoulder from rafe has been a constant, infuriating presence all day. now, at topper's party, surrounded by his friends, he's still ignoring you, laughing with kelce, his gaze sliding right past you as if you're a ghost. humiliation and a desperate, aching need for his attention curdle into a reckless idea in your gut.

fine. if he won't look at you, you'll just have to make him.

you find a shadowy corner of the patio, slightly apart from the main group but still in his general line of sight. under the cover of the thumping music, you slip your hand beneath the hem of your short dress, fingers finding the damp lace of your underwear. this is insane. this is public. but the ache for his focus, even his anger, overrides everything else.

you start touching yourself, your own slickness a testament to how much even his coldness affects you. your fingers move with desperate purpose, chasing a friction that's as much about provocation as it is about pleasure. you watch him, see his back still turned to you. it's not enough.

taking a deep, shaky breath, you push your fingers harder against your clit, arching your back slightly, and let out a sound you've been suppressing all night.

"oh, fuck…"

it's not a whimper. it's a loud, breathy moan, deliberately pitched to cut through the noise, a raw sound of pure, undeniable pleasure.

everything stops. the chatter in rafe's group falters. heads turn. and rafe… he freezes mid-laugh, his body going rigid. he turns his head slowly, his eyes locking onto yours across the patio. the casual amusement on his face vanishes, replaced by a mask of pure, murderous rage. his eyes are black holes, promising absolute punishment. you've done it. you have his undivided, furious attention.

before anyone else can fully process what happened, he's moving. not strolling, not walking, but stalking towards you with a predatory grace that makes your blood run cold even as a thrill shoots through you. he doesn't say a word. he just grabs your upper arm in a bruising grip, yanking you to your feet.

"inside. now," he snarls, his voice a low, terrifying growl meant only for you.

he practically drags you through the sliding glass door, ignoring the confused looks from his friends, and hauls you down the hallway towards the nearest bathroom. he shoves you inside, slamming the door and locking it behind you with decisive, echoing click.

he spins you around, pinning you against the cool, tiled wall. his face is inches from yours, eyes blazing with a fury so potent it's almost suffocating. "you want my fucking attention?" he seethes, his voice dangerously quiet now. "well you got it."

his mouth crashes down on yours, a brutal, punishing kiss that's all teeth and anger. he hikes your dress up with one rough motion, not bothering with your panties, just ripping the delicate lace at the side to shove them out of the way. he unzips his jeans with frantic, angry movements.

he grabs your hips, lifting you slightly, and then slams into you without any preparation, burying himself deep inside you in one brutal, punishing thrust. a sharp cry of pain and pleasure tears from your throat. he starts fucking you right there, against the bathroom wall. his rhythm hard, fast, and utterly merciless. each thrust is a punishment, a possession, a furious reclaiming.

"you like this?" he pants against your ear, his hips slamming into yours relentlessly, his voice a low, vicious snarl. "you like being my dirty little slut in front of everyone? making noises so they all know whose cock you're desperate for?" he pulls your head back by your hair, forcing you to look at your reflection in the mirror above the sink. the sight is jarring: your face flushed and wild, lips swollen from his kiss, tears of pain and pleasure gathering in your eyes. behind you, rafe is a mask of pure, dominant rage, his muscles corded, his jaw tight with fury. "this is the attention you get," he growls. "this is what happens when you embarrass me."

he doesn't let you look away. he forces you to watch as he pounds into you, his movement brutal and efficient. the shame of being watched, even by your own reflection, mingles with the raw, intense pleasure. you can hear the muffled bass from the party outside, a surreal backdrop to the raw, animalistic act happening right here in the bathroom.

"beg for it," he commands, his thrusts becoming deeper, aimed at shattering your composure completely. "beg for me to fuck you like the desperate little slut you are."

"please rafe," you sob out, the words ripped from you, your body already starting to tremble on the verge of release. "please fuck me."

your plea seems to snap the last of his control. a guttural roar tears from his chest as he drives into you with a final, impossibly deep series of thrusts. he fucks you without finesse, without an ounce of tenderness, pushing you over the edge into a violent, splintering orgasm that leaves you screaming into the cold mirror. your body convulses around him, and he finds his own release moments later, spilling himself deep inside you with a shuddering, possessive groan.

he stays buried inside you for a long moment, pinning you to the wall, his body heavy, his ragged breaths hot against your neck. the rage in his eyes slowly recedes, replaced by a dark, smouldering satisfaction. he pulls out slowly, leaving you slick and trembling, your legs barely able to hold you.

he adjusts himself, his movement deliberate, never breaking eye contact with your reflection. he leans in close, his lips brushing your ear. "next time you want my attention," he whispers, his voice a chillingly calm promise. "you come to me. you don't put on a show for them. understand?"

you can only nod weakly, completely drained, utterly dominated. he gives a final, possessive look at your wrecked form in the mirror before unlocking the door and striding out, leaving you to collapse against the sink, the echoes of his punishment and your own shattering release the only things filling the sudden, stark silence.

taglist ; @mojitrvo @mayanqueenxx @kisses4rafey @zoenighshade555 @feverg1rl @onxlyemery @rafesgreasycurtainbangs @yncoded @millie--billie @laniirackssss @slut4you @g3t2kn0w @kravitzwhore @dollyfiles @kild4re @zzhenyac @sparklyananas @dsfault @rafesprttyprincess @lynst91 @nonbeliever1 @drewsephrry @k4yr14 @babydollll-bunny @leleasalwaysblog @cokewithcameron @mialuvsrafe @urcoolgf @love-ella333 @amelialovesrafe @kaisage45 @goodsoup19 @cicicavill7 @tezzzzzzzz @badnightngo @gsbrielads @p45510n4f4shi0n @platypus92688 (join here) | divider creds ; @/anitalenia @/fairytopea

© written by ditzyrafe — do not steal or claim as ur own, stealing will result in me blocking u, any resemblance to any other story is simply coincidental!

[camficdiner]

1.1, 2.1, 3.3, 4.3

the new pics of jack have me FERALLL so im thinking for this that they’re lowkey hooking up and always in that on again off again stage and they’re just getting back together again and they go HARD

☕️ cams fic diner — order 112

🍒 thank you: to the girlies who don’t care he’s taken — because he always comes back to you. boat decks. on-again, off-again. montauk. you know what you’re doing. so does he.

💬 “mine.”

✨ description & prompts:

character: jack hughes

prompt: 4th of july party in montauk — he’s taken, but you’re the one he DMs.

tropes: on-off situationship, jealousy, forbidden chaos

(no offence to his real situation, its just fictional)

🧁🍒🛼✨

You didn’t come to Montauk looking for trouble.

But when the 4th of July party got too loud, too fast — when the Montauket blurred into shots, crowd crushes, and music that vibrated through your ribs — you saw him. Jack. Across the patio. Blue shirt, sunglasses, slouched deep in a chair like he hadn’t just wrecked your brain a month ago.

You weren’t supposed to be here at the same time. You thought Sammy would be. Maybe she had. But she wasn’t there now. He was. And he was laughing — tilted back, arms crossed, drink in hand, and Quinn beside him. Duke to his left. Luke too.

You? You weren’t on stage like the other night. You were just walking past. Just close enough for him to see you.

And he did.

His eyes flicked up once, locked on you. No words. Just that look.

And you? You broke.

You knew better. God, you did. Jack Hughes wasn’t the kind of man you brought back into your life. Not after the last time. Not after the quiet unfollows and the late-night texts and the “you up?” messages from numbers you swore you deleted.

But you texted him anyway.

[you]: you around tonight?

[you]: don’t be weird. i just wanna talk.

[you]: also maybe fuck. but mostly talk.

He replied in seconds.

[jack]: boat. 11pm. no one else.

—

The boat scene is a blur.

The sound of water lapping against the dock. The hush of Montauk’s chaos behind you. Your back hits the cool vinyl seat and his mouth is already on yours — hot, frantic, greedy.

Jack grabs your jaw to kiss you deeper. “You just had to walk past me like that, huh?”

“You’re the one who texted back.”

“You knew I would.”

He doesn’t undress you gently. He lifts your sundress over your head and curses when he sees what you’re wearing underneath — or rather, what you’re not. No bra. Lace panties. A bead of glitter on your chest from someone else’s makeup.

“Jesus.”

He fucks you with his mouth first. Hands gripping your thighs, tongue buried so deep you sob into your own wrist. Then he flips you — stomach down, ass up, knees pressed against the seat cushions — and slides into you from behind.

It’s rough. Possessive.

“You think I’m gonna let you walk around like that?” he pants, pounding into you. “You think I’m just gonna watch while every guy at that party stares at you?”

You cry out — loud, raw, honest.

He fucks you until your knees give out. Until you’re gasping his name and clutching the rails and shaking so hard he has to hold you through it.

When he finishes, he stays inside you. One hand on your waist. One hand tangled in your hair.

“Say it,” he whispers.

You’re still trembling. “Say what?”

“That you’re done playing around.”

Silence. Then:

“I am,” you whisper. “I’m done.”

He turns you over gently. Kisses your cheek. “Then let’s do this for real.”

—

After that night, things change.

He texts you every morning.

Sammy? He clears it up. Tells her it’s over. Tells the boys, too.

And then comes the post.

A blurry photo, clearly taken on the boat. Your legs over his lap. His hand on your thigh. The Montauk lights in the background. His caption?

mine.

You post one too. A better shot. Him, backlit in the cabin lights, flushed and smiling, hair a mess. You type just four words:

he never stood chance.

The comments go insane. Quinn sends thirty question marks. Luke replies finally. Trevor Zegras just posts a coffin emoji.

But Jack doesn’t care.

You’re his. And this time, for real.

[over-orchid]

『Here comes the Sun』

【A Neil Vana x Reader】 【 Act 1 】 【 All eyes on me 】

Synopsis: It didn't take long for them to come back to you, you'd always be dragged back over the bridge. Its just this time, you have a pair of the palest green eyes following you.

Rating: Mature, will go up. Tags: Neil Vana x reader, No use of Y/N, Scientist Reader, Forced proximity, Enemies to friends to lovers, Pre-Canon, Canon divergent, Eventual romance, Eventual smut. wc: 2.5K Chapters: Chapter 2

『It was nothing. Until it was something.』

“I think the beach is real”

“Oh?” The half picked out Caesar salad long forgotten as you meet the hazel gaze of the tall woman seating in front of you. Lucy, or Lulu to you. She had a sharpness to her; she was as blunt as a butter knife but that’s half the reason you two became friends. She told it as it was. She wasn’t afraid to stick up to your attitude. You challenged her when she needs someone to set her straight.

“What’s got you getting so philosophical.”

“I meet someone. He’s…. helped me understand it better” You could have helped her. That would risk everything for you.

“How did he manage to do that. I’ve been trying to show you for years and all I get is you looking at me like a case study.” You’ve traded the salad for a cigarette.

“I can’t say much but he’s shown me so much.” She has this softness to her. You don’t see this much anymore.

It’s nice.

“How’s the research going? You look like you haven’t slept, and you’ve barely finished your food.” Nothing gets past her does it. She has the uncanny ability to turn any conversation into a session.

“It’s fine” Theres that look “I’m serious, it’s fine. I need to run by some samples, but I can’t find them in the Bridges system. They’re too specific for my needs and no one is willing to go retrieve them.”

“What exactly do you need that no one can go get for you?”

“I need samples of Chiralium” You forced a response. It wasn’t entirely untrue, but she didn’t need to know that.

You could tell she wanted to challenge that but you’re thankful she didn’t. Its already hard enough to explain to your colleagues.

There’s a ding from Lulu’s phone, just as she checks it, she’s up. Pained expression gracing her delicate features.

“Sorry, I have to take this. I’ll call you later” She was gone as soon as she spoke. Already forwarding some credits for you to pay with.

Who ever this guy was, he’s got her hooked.

“Oi, Doc”

 Well, there goes your perfect concentration. With a slight jolt of your hand, your prized microscope goes off kilter.  Turning with a blazing look, there stands your tiresome coworker, Mikey as he would prefer to be called. He leaned against the table, merely centimeters away from you. God, you can smell his cheap cologne. You’d hoped with his wondering eye finding the new lab assistant, Giselle. He’d finally leave you alone. Unfortunately, that was not the case.

“What Michael.” There was a tightness in your voice, maybe it would make him go away.

With a roll of his eyes, he pushed away from your personal space. “No need to give me that look. Big man needs you, sounded like it was important.”

Now that was interesting.

Gathering your supplies, you’ve mastered the art of packing as many objects into your handbag as possible. You didn’t have long to catch him before he goes offline again.

Getting through the large campus was a breeze, from outside of the science division of the OC, it looks imposing, sterile, void of any sort of life. The LED white lights hummed as the click clack of your short heels made their way on the concrete. For most people, the off-white walls and cool lighting were claustrophobic. For you, it was calming. Like nothing really changes here. It saved you from the chaos of the outside world.

You’ve had enough of the outside for a lifetime.

Finally, the head office was in sight. Just as you pass into the foyer, there’s a group of what looked like heavily armed men, the security division. Why would they need to be here? Oh well, not your problem.

As you round the corner, you see the familiar black door with a “Dr. Carl Hartsen” placed neatly to the right. You faintly tap your index finger on the door. Nothing. He must not be online yet. You make your way in anyway.

The room was empty. It looks like it’s hardly been used. Almost in perfect condition really. As you make it to the desk, there’s a quieten ding. Coming from above you. A small projector comes to life as a blue tinted figure appears out of nowhere behind the desk. He’s neatly dress, glasses perched on the bridge of his nose. The orange device attached to his chest, beeping softly. A reminder of his fate.

“Ah, Hello. Thank you for coming on such short notice.” The tall, wiry hologram of smiles calmly, knowingly.

“It’s ok sir, I’m sorry I haven’t gotten the recent reports written up. This data has been kicking my ass harder than I expected”

“We’ve been over this, no need to be so formal.”

“I don’t think saying ‘ass’ in front of your superior is formal” 

“Well, as formal as you are. I’m not a “sir” anymore, not to you anyway. We’re equals now.” He makes his way around the desk, to stand beside you. Leaning against the table. The blue of his hologram illuminating the room around you. “Besides, you’re making me sound old”

“Ah well, carl-Heartman. I would even dream of doing that.” Feigning insult, you smile. “I’m still getting used to being promoted business. I can’t believe I have to boss around all the assistants; they all look at me like kicked puppies.”

“Don’t let it get to you; it toughens them up really” Giving you a cheeky wink. “Anyway, I didn’t call you here for an update on your promotion. I-Well, how do a put this” He looks away sheepishly from you. He was not one to beat around the bush.

“You’re needed in a meeting with head office. It’s…. very important that you go.” There was a hint of pity in his brown eyes.

“What kind of meeting? Why am I only being told of this meeting now?” The familiar flare of anxiety bubbles in your chest. You push it away with anger.

“Not one I can openly discuss here. I will be with you, but she will be doing most of the talking.” She? There’s a pause. The beeping on his chest quickens “Shit, I don’t have much time.” Heartman’s lips purse as he looks away and back to you. Like he’s mulling something over in his head.

“ You-“

A knock startles both of you. You really were jumpy today. Maybe lay off the caffeine.

“Come in” Heartman straightens up with a cough.

The door revealed an older man, clothed in a black dress suit. He looked important. You bite the inside of your cheek. The bubbles only got worse.

“Heartman” The unknown man nods to the hologram beside you before turning his sharp gaze to you, addressing you with some force. “They’re ready to see you”

Your nervous eyes meet Heartman’s; he smiles softly at you. “Don’t worry, I’ll be right there in a few minutes” With that he disappears.

The walk to the conference room was quiet and tense. The man in black didn’t even turn to acknowledge you as you both left the room. Rude. It wasn’t a long walk but it almost like you were being chaperoned to your own doom. That gnawing feeling in your chest only grows more apparent. Not now. You can almost feel the ink in your veins drip from your fingers. Like the darkness could swallow you at any moment.

Jesus Christ, not now.

When you finally get to the room, you really wish it would.

There, by the head of the table stood another formal looking man, well combed brown hair in a navy-blue suit. All American, all sleaze. His smile reminded you of a shark, too many teeth. He stared at you like you were some sort of insect on display. Like he could crush you in an instant.

But nothing he could do would compete to the woman sitting beside him. Right at the center of the table, she sat there with a warm smile and cold eyes. Blond hair perfect, signature red dress prominent against the greys of the room around her.

There sat the queen herself.

AmelieStrand.

“Thank you for joining us on such short notice, please have a seat” Her voice light and airy. With a level of sophistication that you would never achieve in your lifetime.

This can’t be real. You’ve entered the lion’s den.

Heartman you better get your ass in here right now.

“Erm-Thank you ma’am.” It almost felt painful to make your way to an empty seat nearest to the door. You didn’t even notice there was two other men in the room. Both sat on the side of the table opposite the door.

All eyes were on you.

The two men looked to be in combat gear. The same as the the troops stationed outside. Why would they be here? What kind of meeting is this? Where was Heartman?

The first of the men was tanned, probably Hispanic, eyes as black as his slicked back hair. He was handsome, very handsome. Perfectly chiseled jawline, with a 5 o’clock shadow that would have others flocking to him. He smiled at you, now that was a sight.

You almost didn’t notice the most strikingly pale green eyes staring at you from beside the ridiculously handsome man. Ok, now you’re staring.

Amelia called your name. Her blue eyes bore into yours, like she was trying to find something within them. You squirm in your seat.

“Excellent, we’ll proceed. Now, I’ve called you all here for a matter of-”

“Excuse me Ma’am. Please forgive me but I was told Heartman would be here. Should we wait for him” There’s no way you’d be doing this without him.

You can see the man beside Amelia’s eye twitch. Though, she herself just smiled politely.

“Don’t worry, he’ll be here in a few moments. You can catch him up on anything he’s missed.” She stands. That’s the end of that.

“I assume you all are wondering why I’ve called you here. I’ll keep this short.” Gesturing to you “I’ve read your paper on ‘How death has changed DNA’, amazing work. Your work on the creation of beached things, is next to none I’ve read.  Your involvement in Project Hades was remarkable”

Hades.  Of course, she called you here because of that disaster. The unpleasant memories begin to surface. You can feel your fingernails dig into your palm.

Amelia makes her way towards you. Her gold neckless jingles with her smooth movement. A feeling of unease carries through you.  Her compliments felt hollow.

“That is why I need you to go to Washington DC to retrieve the last remains of the first BT.”

…

..

.

What.

You could feel yourself twisting rapidly to face her, disbelief clear on your face. This can’t be real. She can’t be serious. A quick glance at the two men, shows they share in her astonishment.

“Ma’am with all due respect, my paper was just a theory into the creation of beached things and how genetics plays into their conception. I haven’t been able to prove anything in any concrete way. The Hades project was a complete failure-”

She cuts you off. “That is why you need those samples. I believe with the right materials and time. You can make it work. I can provide you with all the resources to get you to your destination.”

“Madam Strand, thank you for this offer but I can’t go out there. I’m not a porter. I don’t have the skills to even get to Nevada without getting myself into a voidout.” Or worse.

“That’s why they’re here.” Strand finally sets her gaze to the two-man watching silently. “Alejandro, may you introduce yourself and your companion.”

“Ehum, Of course Madam.” Mr. Handsome straightens up. “Hola, my name is Alejandro Torres. I’m the lead operative for security for Bridges. This is my compatriot, Neil Vana. He’s one of the most skilled Porters in the business.” Torres, smiles as he claps the shoulder of the pale man. He looked like he would rather be doing anything else than be here. His green eyes darting between Torres and Ameila. Before ultimately landing on your own. You bristle; his gaze is almost unnerving.

“Neil” That got his attention. He gapes wide eyed at the woman in red. She was standing directly beside you now. “I need you to accompany her on this expedition. She’ll need an expert porter to make it there and back.”

His eyes darted between yourself and Amelia. Dark brows furrow in confusion. “I can do this job on my own.” His voice was soft; you would almost have to strain to hear it. He also has a slight accent. “I don’t need a civie slowing me down”

Ouch, rude much? He wasn’t exactly wrong. Though you could do without the cheek. Before you got a chance to retort.

“She’ll need to collect data along the way, and I’m not sure about you but I don’t think you would know what you’re looking for Mr Vana.” Thank God, Finally Heartman makes an appearance. Neil makes a face but doesn’t say anything.

“Forgive my delay. I had to go offline for a bit. You understand. I’m Heartman by the way. Pleasure to make your acquaintance, Gentleman. I would shake your hands but-” He pushes his hologram hand through the table.

“There’s nothing to forgive, Heartman. I’m glad you could make it but unfortunately, I must take my leave. Agent Jefferson will fill you in on the details. I’ll meet you two at the exit port in two days, at 0600 hours.”

Just as she leaves, she gives your shoulder a squeeze. It felt cold.

After what felt like hours, you can leave the conference room. The rest of the meeting was a blurr, you didn’t really focus on anything other than the fact that you had to leave the town in two days. It’s been 3 years since you stepped foot outside. You bite your cheek again, wincing at the pain. It was something to focus on.

“Hey, Doc. Got a minute?” The smooth deep voice of Alejandro stools towards you. Alone this time.

You and Heartman exchange glances, you give the taller man a nod. “I’ll meet you back in my office tomorrow morning. Rest well.” As he vanished you turned back to Alejandro.

“Don’t mind my friend, he’s a bit una reina de hielo. He’s a good man really. Just give him time.” You don’t doubt Alejandro, but that doesn’t change the fact you’re going to have to deal with him for weeks until he warms up to you. If he ever will.

“I’m sure he is, but he’s right. Going out to the next state is one thing, across the country is a whole other story.” You could use a cigarette.

“Don’t discredit yourself yet, Doctora. You don’t know what your capable of” With a smirk and wink, the tall dark man makes his way down the hall.

What the fuck are you getting yourself into.

[sunsetmade]

hii, the anon who requests too much is back with a new request! where she and rafe are dating only for a few months and he still doesn't know about her past. she comes from a privileged family like him, and she is an only child with a father who expects too much from her. she has an ex-boyfriend who was violent towards her. maybe a fight broke out between them when rafe kept a gun around him "to protect them" but she doesn't like the way it scares her. rafe, maybe stressed with his father's constant nagging, he accidentally snaps at her and she can only stare at him in fear, the memories with her ex coming back to her. you can only write if you're comfortable, of course! and also, I was wondering if I could be an anon with an emoji so you could easily remember me.

- 🥹 anon

Welcome back 🥹 anon! Thank you for your requests I always enjoy writing them, hope you love this one just as much!

When Tempers Burn

Rafe Cameron x Kook! Reader

It was quiet in the house. That kind of stillness that only settled late at night—after the dishes had been washed, the world had exhaled, and the soft hum of cicadas filled the silence through cracked windows. The air was cool, brushed faintly with the scent of salt and summer grass, and everything felt slower—softer.

She lingered at the top of the staircase, barefoot on the wooden steps, her fingers curled loosely around the railing. From the landing, she could see the soft glow spilling out from the kitchen—the under-cabinet lights casting warm amber shadows across the countertops, catching faint reflections off the marble and stainless steel.

Rafe was sitting at the table.

One hand wrapped around a sweating glass of water, the other dragging slowly through his hair. His shoulders were hunched forward, his head bent slightly. From the way his elbow rested on the table, knuckles pressed to his temple, she could tell he hadn’t moved in a while.

He looked tired.

Not just in the way someone looks at the end of a long day—but deeply tired. Like something unseen was clinging to him, pressing down on his chest and dragging behind every breath. The kind of tired you can’t sleep off.

She hovered there for a second, hesitant. Watching him in the hush of the house. Then she stepped down the stairs—quiet, not trying to sneak, but still careful. Her footsteps barely made a sound on the hardwood.

He still noticed her instantly.

Rafe’s head turned, and his whole expression shifted. The second he saw her, something in his face loosened—like seeing her peeled away the tension just enough to breathe. His eyes, rimmed with exhaustion, softened with something warmer. Familiar.

“Hey,” he said, voice low and rough with sleep. “What’s wrong, baby?”

She didn’t answer at first. She just walked toward him slowly, swallowed in one of his old t-shirts, the sleeves long enough to nearly hide her hands. Her hair was a little messy. Her eyes uncertain.

Rafe leaned back in the chair and held his arms out without a word, like he knew she needed it even before she did. She let herself fall into him, her body curling effortlessly into his lap, her knees pulled up beside his thigh like she’d done it a hundred times before.

Because she had.

With Rafe, it was always like that—easy, instinctive. Like her body already knew where to go. Like home lived in the curve of his chest and the safety of his arms.

He tucked his face into the side of her neck, breathing her in. His hands skimmed up and down her spine slowly, grounding.

“Talk to me,” he murmured.

She fiddled with the hem of his sleeve. Her voice was quiet, unsure. “I was looking for your charger earlier…”

“Yeah?” he said against her skin.

“I opened your nightstand drawer.”

That made him pause. His hands stilled on her waist.

“I wasn’t snooping,” she added quickly. “I didn’t mean to— I just didn’t think anything of it.”

He shifted a little beneath her, posture stiffening slightly. She could feel it in the tension that returned to his thighs.

“And I found it.”

He didn’t speak at first.

Then, quietly: “Found what?”

She met his eyes, even though it took effort. “The gun.”

Rafe went still.

Completely still.

She felt his jaw lock where it pressed to her collarbone, his breath stalling for half a second before he pulled back slightly to look at her. His brows were furrowed—not angry, but alert now. Like something in him had clicked into place.

“I didn’t know it was there,” she said gently. “I didn’t expect it. It just—startled me.”

Rafe exhaled slowly through his nose. “It’s for protection,” he said carefully, measured. “That’s all it is.”

“I know,” she said quickly, not wanting him to feel like she was accusing him of something. “I get it. I do.”

But her body was still tight. Her fingers were twisted in the fabric of his shirt, just enough to pull it taut.

Rafe’s eyes searched her face—deep blue and serious. She wasn’t mad. There was no blame in her voice. But she looked… unsettled.

“You okay?” he asked, softer this time. His thumb began tracing small, slow circles on her thigh again—like he was trying to soothe the tension out of her skin.

She hesitated. Then nodded, but it wasn’t very convincing. “Yeah. It just… freaked me out, I guess.”

“Why?” he asked, tilting his head slightly, trying to understand. “What scared you?”

She drew in a breath, steadying herself. “I don’t know,” she said, voice trembling just a little. “It’s not like I think you’d do anything. I just—when I opened the drawer and saw it, I froze. It felt so close. Like… too close. Right next to where we sleep. Where I feel safe.”

Rafe’s jaw clenched subtly. He looked away for a moment, his thumb pausing mid-circle before starting again.

“It’s not loaded,” he said after a beat. “I keep the mag separate. I’d never leave it loaded in the house.”

She nodded slowly. “I figured. But still… it just scared me.”

That landed differently. Something shifted in his expression, like her words hit deeper than she meant them to. His hand on her leg stilled completely this time. His other arm curled tighter around her waist.

“You think I’d ever hurt you?” he asked suddenly, voice quieter—but lower now. A weight behind it.

Her breath caught.

“No,” she said instantly, her voice full of certainty. “Of course not.”

His eyes didn’t leave hers. There was something almost desperate behind them now—something like fear. “Then what are you scared of?”

“It’s just a fucking gun,” he muttered, more to himself than her. “It’s not gonna go off by itself.”

Her throat tightened. She looked down, away from him. Her fingers played with the hem of her sleeve again. He was already annoyed.

His voice wasn’t loud—but it was sharp. Clipped at the edges, edged with heat he wasn’t trying to control. Tension sat heavy in his throat, in his jaw, in the way his words hit the air a little too fast, a little too hard.

Not yelling. But close.

It was that specific kind of edge only Rafe Cameron carried. The kind born from too many days under pressure, too many ghosts on his back. Ward had been on him all week—about the business, about appearances, about “representing the Cameron name like a man.” Another meeting, another lecture, another subtle reminder that Rafe was never quite enough.

And now this.

A drawer. A discovery. A fight he hadn’t seen coming.

“I’m not scared of you,” she said quietly. Smaller now. Like the room itself had shrunk. “It just reminded me of something.”

He blinked. Confused. “Reminded you of what?”

She pulled her legs off his lap, slow and deliberate, and stood. The motion created space between them, but it didn’t help. The air only got heavier. Tighter.

“Nothing. It’s fine.”

“No—don’t do that.” Rafe stood too, brows drawn in, voice tight. “Don’t shut down on me. Just tell me why it freaked you out.”

“I am telling you.”

“Then say it.”

“I don’t want it in our bedroom,” she said, the words rising and cracking under the weight in her chest. “Isn’t that enough?”

Rafe stepped back, raking both hands over his face, dragging his fingers through his hair in frustration. The way his body moved was too tense, too fast. His shoulders were coiled, his chest rising and falling in short, aggravated bursts.

“You know how many people hate me, right?” he muttered, pacing. “You think just because I live in a nice house, they won’t try shit? You think I don’t think about that every night—that someone could come in, hurt you—?”

She tensed.

Not outwardly. Not enough for most people to see.

But inside, something pulled back. Curled in. Like a thread snapping quietly in the dark.

It was the tone. His words. That tightness behind his eyes. Too familiar. Too close to a past she’d worked too hard to leave behind.

Back when raised voices and clenched fists were warnings.

Before Rafe. Before safety.

“I just don’t want to be around a gun when I sleep,” she whispered. Her voice was soft but steady. Fragile. “That’s all.”

But he wasn’t listening. Not really.

He stepped toward her again, and this time his voice raised—not shouting, but loud enough to make her chest tighten. “I don’t get it. I’m doing everything I can to keep you safe, and now you’re acting like I’m the threat.”

“I never said that!” she said quickly, eyes wide, throat catching. “Rafe, I—”

He took another step.

And she flinched.

It was small. A reflex. Her shoulders jumped just slightly, her head tilted back. It happened before she could think.

But it was enough.

Enough for everything to stop.

Enough for the heat behind his eyes to vanish. Enough for the noise in his chest to go silent.

Because he saw it. He saw the way she jerked away.

Like she’d been here before.

Like she knew what came next.

But nothing came next.

Only silence.

Rafe froze. Completely. His hands dropped to his sides like he’d been shot. His mouth parted, but no sound came. His heart plummeted. Something broke wide open in his chest.

“Wait—” he breathed.

She shook her head, blinking fast, eyes glassy. “I’m sorry.”

“No—no, don’t apologize.” His voice cracked, softer now. Crushed. “Baby… what—what just happened?”

She turned like she was going to leave—just walk away, disappear from the moment—but he stepped in front of her quickly. Not to block her. Not to stop her. Just to be there.

He didn’t touch her.

He just waited. Arms loose. Chest open. Everything in him suddenly gentle.

“Did you flinch?” he asked, though he already knew.

Silence.

“Did I scare you?” he whispered, the words barely making it out of his throat.

Her lip trembled.

And then she nodded. Barely.

It was like the floor vanished beneath him.

Rafe ran a hand over his mouth, then dropped it to his chest like he needed to hold something inside from falling apart. His voice cracked again.

“Jesus. Baby. I would never—” He cut himself off, swore under his breath, eyes shining. “I didn’t mean to come at you like that. I didn’t even realize I—”

He took a cautious step closer. Still not touching her. Still giving her that space she suddenly needed.

“My ex used to raise his voice like that… right before he’d hit me.”

Rafe froze.

The words landed like a punch to the gut—no warning, no chance to brace. His breath caught mid-chest, his eyes locked on her like he wasn’t sure he’d heard right.

All the blood drained from his face.

“What?” he asked, barely more than a whisper. The word cracked in the middle.

She swallowed hard, hands trembling as she twisted her fingers together in front of her. Her voice was soft, stripped of any armor. “He wasn’t good to me. It was a long time ago. I don’t really talk about it because… it feels like a different life now. Like I’m someone else.”

Her eyes flicked to the floor, like it was easier to talk to the hardwood than to him. “But sometimes… my body still reacts before my brain has time to catch up. Even when I know I’m safe.”

She finally looked up at him.

Her eyes were red-rimmed, lashes wet.

“You didn’t touch me. I know that. But your tone—the tension in your voice, in the room—it just…” She cut herself off, a shaky breath breaking loose as she pressed a hand over her mouth.

Rafe’s eyes filled instantly.

He took a step forward, slow and cautious. Like she was made of glass. Like she might shatter if he moved too quickly.

“I didn’t know,” he said hoarsely. “I didn’t know, baby.”

“I didn’t want you to.”

“Why?”

“Because…” Her voice wobbled. “I didn’t want you to see me as broken.”

The silence between them pulsed. Something sharp lived in it. Regret. Guilt. Grief.

Then, slowly, gently, Rafe closed the space between them and brought both hands to her face—his touch so careful it was almost reverent. His thumbs brushed under her eyes, catching a tear she didn’t even realize had fallen.

“Broken?” he echoed, shaking his head. “You think that would make me love you less?”

His voice cracked again, thick with emotion. “You think I’d ever see you as anything other than the strongest, bravest, most beautiful girl I’ve ever known?”

She looked at him—and this time, she really saw him.

Saw the weight behind his eyes. The heartbreak carved into his features. The sheer devastation that he had been the one to make her feel even a fraction of the fear someone else had once forced her to live in.

“I’m sorry,” Rafe said, his voice low and aching. “I’m so fucking sorry I raised my voice. There’s no excuse. I let my own shit get too loud. I let it touch you, and that’s on me.”

Her bottom lip trembled. “It’s okay,” she whispered.

But he shook his head, eyes glistening. “It’s not. You felt unsafe in a room with me, and I can’t live with that. Not ever again.”

“You didn’t mean to—”

“But I still did it,” he said, voice breaking as he stepped closer. “Even if I didn’t lay a finger on you, I made you feel what he used to. That alone… I can’t fucking stand it.”

Her chest ached. There was so much pain in his voice—not defensive, not angry, just wounded. Like hurting her meant hurting himself too.

So she stepped forward, wordless, and wrapped her arms around his waist. Her head rested against his chest.

Rafe melted into the embrace immediately, arms folding tight around her like he was afraid she might slip through his fingers if he didn’t hold on tight enough. His hand splayed across her back, the other pressing gently between her shoulder blades. He tucked his face into her hair.

“I’m here,” she whispered. “I’m okay.”

But he still shook his head, murmuring into her hair, “No more gun in the drawer. It’s done. I’ll move it to the safe downstairs. Locked. Hidden. You’ll have the code, okay? Full control.”

She didn’t respond, but the way her fingers curled into the back of his shirt said enough.

“If anything ever changes,” he continued, pulling back just enough to look her in the eye, “if something doesn’t sit right—you tell me. Don’t hold it in. Don’t protect me from it. I want to know, always. You never have to carry that alone again.”

Her nod was small but sure.

They stayed like that—holding each other in the middle of the kitchen, the hum of the fridge the only sound—for what felt like hours. Time didn’t exist in that moment. Only warmth. Forgiveness. The fragile stitching of something healing.

Eventually, Rafe pressed a soft kiss to her temple and whispered, “Come on. Let’s go upstairs.”

He guided her gently, not with force but with presence. With patience.

In the bedroom, he moved to the nightstand immediately. No dramatics. No explanation. Just quiet action. He opened the drawer, took out the gun and magazine, and left the room.

When he returned, his shoulders looked lighter. Like the guilt hadn’t disappeared—but at least now, he was holding it with both hands instead of letting it crush him.

They climbed under the covers together without a word.

She settled into the mattress, and he curled up behind her like always—his chest against her back, his arm wrapped securely around her waist. His hand found hers under the blanket, fingers slipping between hers, anchoring.

He pressed a kiss to the back of her neck, soft and sincere.

“Thank you for telling me,” he whispered, his breath warm against her skin. “Even if it broke me to hear it.”

“Thank you for listening.”

“I’ll always listen, baby.”

And for the first time in a long time, she let herself exhale fully.

Wrapped in arms that held her gently, protectively—not to claim, not to control—but to love… she finally believed what her body was still learning:

Love didn’t have to hurt.

Not this time.

Not with him.

[hyper-alice]

So I’m watching another production of TGWDLM right now (go watch it please) and of course I’m going to yap about it as I watch so here

I love the opening choreo and the set is so epic!! I love the glow-in-the-dark green vibe with the painted handprints on the back wall

the way Ted rolls Paul out on a wheelie chair, then the whole cast conga lines a bit just to gather around and collectively call Paul a piece of shit I’m dying lmaoo

Melissa actually asked Charlotte about the softball league while Mr. Davidson and Paul were talking :)

Charlotte: But- we skipped last month… The audience: (gasp!)

Charlotte pulled out the biggest fucking flask ever help

while Melissa and Paul were talking Ted walked up to Bill, talked to him about some folder, then immediately got mad and walked away lmao

and then the way he ran up to ask Paul about beanies

Ted: Get me a chai iced tea okay?! Asshole.

Zoey (clearly not working): HiiWelcometobeanies.

Paul and the coffee shop jerk racing each other to the counter loll

“Yeeeah can I get a grandie caramel frappie in a venti cup 10 pumps of frappie roast, 3 shots of espresso no carmeldrizzl whip on top?”

Emma sounds so deadpan free my girl she just wants to go home

“I’m never coming back here again, that sign’s bullshit!!” (Proceeds to sit down and drink his drink anyways)

Pete is so aggressive I’m crying

I love this Harmony Jones please her running backwards to maintain a convo a few seconds longer

The Homeless Man digging through the trash while Paul and Harmony are talking I love that

HM waddles too what a guy

The audience lost it when Ted came out in a robe with Charlotte lol

“If you don’t like what we’re doing here-” (aggressive sexual dance) “there’s the door!” (angry strut off stage)

Sam (walking on stage past Emma): Mm… harghhh haharghh

Sam (now standing next to Zoey): SCUSEMEMAM!

SOUTHERNSAM SOUTHERN SAM SOUTHERNSAM

“That uniform is so fucking sexy on you” (Sam does sexy model poses at audience)

Bill rolling across stage on the chair and holding whatever the hell he’s using as a steering wheel

“Hey Siri, call Alice” (Siri proceeds to not do as asked and there is another several seconds of Bill struggling to call Alice as the audience laughs their asses off)

Deb: Well then I guess we’re out. Danny: WHFATWHAGTHEFYUCK??

The professor aggressively runs on stage, makes slutty poses while talking, and aggressively runs off stage. 10 out of 10 no notes.

Donna was voiced by one of the guys doing an aggressive high pitched voice while Dan had a pretty low voice. I’m using the word aggressive to describe a lot of this play and that’s a positive

The opening dancing to LDDDD was literally just two people running and jumping across a silent stage lmao yeah I’d be confused too

“I’m not a bad guy.” (Harmony Jones ominously steps closer) “I’ve donated to charities in the past” (she steps closer again) “Not yours…” (she does not break eye contact before bursting into song)

The Homeless Man began gyrating his hips at the start of his verse. Yeah I don’t doubt that that’s Ted at all

The world is my ✨house✨

“The dogs are my food RUFF!OH LOOK a new blouse!” HEY MELISSA REFERENCE?!

“🎶Dancing on the concrete🎶 It used. To hurt. A lot.”

They put Pete and HM Ted next to each other HAHAHHAHAHA IM FINE

During the chorus overlapping bit in LDDDD Harmony Jones was miming conducting that’s so cool I could easily see the 4/4 bar movement

Harmony Jones really pulled Paul to the front of the stage just to push him onto the floor and have everyone stand over him Inevitable style

Amazing ending pose

They said the lights down thing and the HM chucked his hat across the stage as he was running off amazing

(moving props after LDDDD) set change set change

Bill ranting about Alice to Ted buddy he doesn’t care :(

Bill: “-a god dang meteor! 🎶Mamma Mia🎶” (CLAP)

Char didn’t get the coffee in the sugar joke and Bill had to explain it to her lmao I love her

Okay these productions might unironically make me a BillTed shipper this shits getting crazy

“He didn’t get home at all” (everyone staring) “IwouldntknowiwasntthereatallFUCK”

Ted slaying those shoes

Paul: Oh, my reports! I’m gonna get it Ted: HA! Loser!

Mr. Davidson started up his song like a robot powering on I never knew I needed that

What Do You Want Paul? is beyond words PLEASE

Mr. Davidson never walking normally

He did the “too many curves” bit except every curve got shorter and wider as he went down

“Carol I want you to.. get a BBL” GAGGED IM CRYING

“If you leave you’re fired ☺️” (kiss on the head)

I need to stop WDYWP? deserves its own post this is madness

Pete and the guy with the hat were in LDDDD but also appeared in Beanies later so they got uninfected?? Or they were faking not being infected during cup of coffee?? Either way wow Pete apotheosis on stage real

on the topic of Pete and Guy With Hat, then sitting next to each other in Beanies was so awkward lol. GWH waves to Pete, Pete moves farther away. Pete keeps looking over at GWH as he’s on his phone. Beanies is a very awkward place from what I see

Pete was just dying to tip when Emma and Paul were talking lol. Then Nora and Zoey came out from behind doors the second the money went in the jar? I fully believe the people we see die in the coffee shop were already dead they were just pulling some scare factor or some shit lmao. Also Pete really enjoyed the tip song kicking his feet and stuff what a silly

Emma just chucking shit at the customers lmaoo

Nora and Zoeys dance moves I’m crying

LMAO during the “walking through the audience shrub alley way” bit Emma said “that shrub is talking??”

Ted was the only one actually in the trash can lol

“If you wanna stay in our hiding spot you’d better be FUCKING quiet, okay?” I’m starting to think this Ted doesn’t like Paul

Paul tried to whisper “the latte hatte, remember?” into Ted’s ear but Ted kept pretending he couldn’t hear him until Paul had to say it out loud lmao what an ass

Ted: Paul, Paul, Paul- Paul: You’re drunk?

Ted very much struggled to get out of the trashcan, he used Emma to hold onto

Charlotte: I called Sam, he should be able to help us! Paul: I love the cops! 😁 . Bill: Yeah, me too! ☺️

Show Me Your Hands is also wonderfully chaotic, aggressive dancing even more aggressive the guy who plays Jeff’s characters is such a treat

Sam: Put it in your mouth and SUCK IT! Charlotte: Sam, please don’t suck it

Oh yeah Ted is drunk that is not a sober man why is he trying to match the cops’ freak

Charlotte didn’t even have to grab Sam’s gun the cops just pointed at Sam on the ground, did a high pitched Wicked riff and ran lmao

she did still grab the gun and start pointing it at the others tho

they changed the alien insides from blue to green (to better fit the theme probably)

THAT’S NOT HIS BRAIN IT’S FUCKING GREEN!!

Ted is gold

“I vote we go to the panic room and we beg for the king’s help, who’s with me? I got whatever the fuck her name is, I got Bill. Paul?Charlotte?Paul?Charlotte?”

(Charlotte picks up Sam’s gun) “Oh yeah, that’s yours.” “Should she have that right now?”

Ted (after looting Sam’s hat, now refusing to help carry him): Oh no, fuck that man.

The long string of “gates opening” noises (like that one AVPS scene where Ron opens the train compartment door idk that’s the best I can explain it)

The professor pointing the gun at Sam byee

Professor Hidgens shoving the blue green shit in Charlotte face help

“Alexa, be a good girl and dim the lights” is wild

Angry Charlotte I love you

Ted: If I’m gonna die, I’m gonna go out doing the thing I love most. Screwing around with another man- (realizes he put his hand on Sam’s shoulder and jumps up) -‘S WIFE

THE SEX MUSIC STARTING UP AND THE LIGHTING CHANGE IM CRYING

no thoughts just this

Then she drops him and he lays in the fetal position on the floor for a bit

Ted and Charlotte the disaster couple of all time he’s arguing like a child I can’t do this

Ted repeatedly flipping her off as he walks away lmaoo

WHY AM I TIED TO A CHYYEAR??

More banger batshit choreo in You Tied Up My Heart, I can’t get enough of this guy

Swivel chairs are such an enhancement

WHAT THE FUCK NOT THE NIGHTMARE TIME MOTIF PLAYING AT THE SCENE CHANGE AFTER CHAR DIES WGHATT

Bill: I’m gonna kick your head! Audience: Ooooooohhh

Bill just flopping down hard on the floor after the kick-your-head argument lmao

Emma sounds so sad during her monologue to Paul my girl :(((

Paul: You’re the reason I don’t like musicals. :) Emma: Thanks Paul.

That long note Charlotte has at the start of Join Us (And Die). Her actress kept making the note higher!!

Sam immediately beelining for Ted

Ted is the one freaking out the most, this man is losing his shit (as it should be). Also he tried to shoot at Sam with a gun but it was out of bullets lmao

During the “sing Moana” bit Paul and Ted did the “HOUH HOUH” thing at each other

Someone needs to keep alcohol away from Ted all he’s been doing is drinking this whole apocalypse I swear

The professor saluted at Bill when he said “god speed”

Okay shit I’m cutting it off at act one since this is already so long, I’ll probably make a part two of this as I watch but it’s already taken me like three hours to get through act one since I keep pausing help.

anyways if you actually read this whole thing, props to you, reblog like a cat emoji or some shit idk I need to know if anyone actually read this

[snugglesquiggle]

Okay, parkour is a *little* bit harder than the videos made it look, Uzi thought. Maybe it was all the ice, maybe it was the cloudy night sky making it hard to see, or maybe it was that Uzi was a bit—

Haha, no. Of course not!

Uzi bounced with an arm outstretched, fingers straining to grasp a shattered bit of masonry, just out of her reach. The abandoned storefront, otherwise featureless, just a few a handholds up there, barely out of reach. She’d been searching for way up to the rooftops. Plenty of things to climb on this street, but you’d scampered up atop a doorway or awning, and then what?

Lots of starts, no middles.

The worker was midair when it came—a whine‍-​shriek shivered past, a wind with a knife’s edge.

Uzi dropped to a crouch, the mechanical memory of halt, blank and hide drilled into her since she had a frame to animate. Halt your servos, hydraulics at once going still and silent. Blank your screen, and all of the indicator lights elsewhere on her body dimmed and guttered like candles. Then hide, curled up all anxious, and pray to robo‍-​god the vultures circling find another corpse.

Err—well, that was a little bit backward. Can’t exactly hide if you’ve already halted. But sometimes teachers screwed up the explanation—it was probably supposed to be “halt current activities”.

But it’s pointless anyway, because Uzi wasn’t out here because she was helpless like everyone else. The opposite! The exact opposite!

(She was so used to this being something she daydreamed about, doodled in class—not real, not finally finished.)

Uzi sprung back up into a stand, all her weight on one leg while the other kicked back, hitting the railgun holstered on her back. It bucked upward, only to be deflected by her hand, and ultimately swing‍-​ricochet in a very cool way into her other, waiting hand. Only took like a second—she was the queen of quickdraw.

So many months to finish this this—and she hadn’t even shot anything. Maybe tonight would be the night?

But something told her to check. It feels like— Her eyes craned upward, peering at cloud‍-​fog that gave a meager aureole to every flickering streetlights. She saw the shadow glimmering, a sharpened silhouette. Her. Of course.

Who else would it be—it was her every frickin night she went out this week, like some personal vendetta. As if every other murder drone—she knew there were at least three!—had gotten a memo to avoid her.

Uzi sighed. The exasperated kind, that didn’t flutter out of her chest. She looked left and right. C’mon, Uzi, play it cool.

She decided to turn around and lean against the wall, one foot on the ground and one against the wall. Hands slid into her jacket pockets, and the railgun was leaning beside her, parallel. Her dark purple constrasted nicely against the pale, iced‍-​out blue‍-​green of the storefront behind her.

A roach drone scrurried in an alley two blocks down, and Uzi cast her gaze down the street, focus bouncing like a skipping stone—defiant of gravity.

Gravity being what pulled the murder drone to the street with a great crash that echoed in all the surrounding buildings’ hollow spaces.

The click‍-​scrape of pegs against asphalt sounded like a lunge or sprint, but Uzi was slow giving it her attention. A casual glance, too cool to care.

“Sup,” she said, winking at the yellow cross.

In reply, a cone‍-​gauntlet flick‍-​transformed into a gun barrel already opening fire. A spray of bullets, and Uzi knew to dropped. A dozen bullet holes drew a line across the storefront—and given that Uzi was a few percents its width, it meant only one had even come close to hitting her.

“Robo‍-​jesus, we really doing this again?” Uzi watched smoke waft from the barrel, and traced her eyes up its length and then along the body of its wielder. That form‍-​fitting suit, and today she wore a dark undershirt with a tie bright where her corelights would be.

Her scowl only deepened as Uzi blatantly checked her out.

“I got the hint the second time, you know.” Actually the third—Uzi wasn’t that quick on the uptake—but this was the fifth.

“Clearly not, or you’d be dead. Hold still and I can foreclose on the insult of your continued existence.”

“You take me that personally, huh?” Uzi shook her head, and she could hear the murder drone grinding her teeth.

Then the gun was a sword, and the three meters between them was three inches. Her pig‍-​tails trailed like weightless ribbons behind her, and in front a blade was thrusting.

Uzi knew the exact moment to dodge, sword stabbing past her and into the wall. She reached down and grabbed it. The murder drone’s other hand was a pistol now, and was pointing at her head. Well, in the general direction of her head—the arm wavered wildly.

Uzi was trembling too.

Brows furrowing, vocalsynth hissing. “My objective is professional. I am the most effective disassembly drone in this sector. You are nothing but a target, a corrupt AI wholly unable to secure its survival and disgustingly confident in spite of that fact.”

Confidence… yeah, Uzi wasn’t used to being called that. She wasn’t used to acting like that, not in a way that robots didn’t laugh at. “Surviving you four times has that effect.”

“It was a fluke—a blip in the market. There is no doubt that a disassembly drone of my caliber could decimate you into an unrecognizable scrap heap. Need a demonstration?”

Uzi giggled. “Honestly, why not just say you let me live. It’s true, plus you’d keep more aura points that way than what, consistently jobbing against me?”

J tugged on her sword, but—on whispered instinct—Uzi pushed down on it at just the right time, and it only sawed deeper into the wall. If anything, it was more stuck.

Frustration bleed into her voice. “Do you think this this is…” But then she lost articulation, and it just became a noisy growl.

Uzi reached out, her hand falling on the other robot’s shoulder. “I think you know what this is.” The worker smiled. Or smirked.

“Fine, it doesn’t matter. You won’t get away this time.”

Uzi glanced down. Frowned. Five nights, and it played out the same way every time—she didn’t want to be mean, but Uzi might be getting tired of it, honestly. She needed more than this, this was…

Lots of starts, no middles.

“Hey uh…” Her eyes darted to the drone’s armband—SD‍-​J—as if Uzi hadn’t studied every glance to create a 3D model of her. “J? Do you want to do something different today? Get to know each other, rather than just fighting—”

“Shut up. Shut up! I’m tired of hearing your voice. It never ends. When I stop to think—when I dream!—I hear it. Taunting me. You miserable scam. You’re unfinished business, of course, so maybe it’s just me reminding myself. Motivating myself. I need to do what I should have done the first night I saw you—shoot instead of yapping—but… why. can’t. I. just. do it!

The gun—J’s only free hand—shook more fiercely now. She must be trying to press it against Uzi’s temple, but it won’t stay put, swinging—at some angles it was almost like it’d hit J herself.

“J‍-​J? Are you—”

“Is this some sort of chemical agent in the air? A violation of my electromagnetic field? A wireless signal you’re insinuating into me? I can’t focus, I can’t hold myself steady, I can’t barely stop myself from—” A choking sound, sputtering to a stop. Teeth grinding, spitting, “It must be some kind of fraud—you’re just a toaster, after all. This heat…”

Uzi’s hand drew back, smacking her own visor—facepalm. “Oh my god. Really? Do you not—you didn’t realize?”

“Explain.” J intoned like an order.

The worker rolled her eyes. What was it J had said, that first night? “Look, miss murder, you said you had ‘prey’ fight back before right? Killed yourself a whole mountain of bodies.”

“And you’re next~”

Oh she’s got it BAD. “Stop thinking about that for a minute, and think. Has it ever felt anything like this?”

(Honestly, as much as this was frickin annoying, Uzi couldn’t really blame her—last week, she had never felt any of this either. She didn’t think it was real! Just another thing made up, like robo‍-​jesus or property rights. All of her high school friends couldn’t stop gushing and gossiping about it, so this just made her even more the outcast.)

J remained silent, as if it was pulling teeth to speak any word that was conversation and not passionate threat‍-​rants. “…Continue.”

“That’s a yes. Robo‍-​God, this is so embarrassing. Do I have to keep going?”

J waved the gun in front of her face again. Like that’s anything but a prop.

Uzi sighed. “You aren’t trying to kill me, J.”

J scowled viciously, showing off all her teeth like a drawer of blades. As if that wasn’t the coolest thing.

She doesn’t realize I drew all my OCs with shark teeth.

Of their two dueling expressions, Uzi’s dreamy smile proved the most disturbing, and J pulled back, and finally begging for her to continue. “Then what is going on?”

She sounded so desperate. “Say please?”

“No.”

“Fine. Just… give me a hand?” Uzi held out her four‍-​digit hand, as if for a high‍-​five. After a moment, the useless gun barrel transformed into a larger hand, lit by yellow light.

Uzi reached out, slowly inching closer and—

A flash, a snap—a spark of static electric zapped a bridge between them.

J flinched back, a jerk so violent her sword finally ripped free of the wall, a brick stuck to the tip.

“Was that some kind of attack!?” Legs bent into a combat stance. And that still means she looms over me.

Uzi opened her mouth. Then she closed it.

I thought it was deep denial. I’d get that; even I thought it was unrequited till last night. But…

“You… don’t know. I thought you’re older than me, but you genuinely don’t know anything about it?”

“Stop lording whatever single, minuscule scrap knowledge this is over me, and tell me, already. Directors, this must be the first time you’ve gotten to feel superior and you’re milking it for all it’s worth.”

Uzi kicked off the wall, crossing the distance between them. She knew—the same instinct that told her she was near, that told her how to dodge all J’s attacks—told her now that if Uzi reached out, stroked the drone’s silver hair and cupped her cheek, held her other and squeezed, the predator would let all of this happen.

And it did—tenderly.

The two of them stood so close together—warm, ready heat was blooming in her core with the whine of a processor overworked. The possibilities danced at her finger tips—and yes, this was a dance.

Uzi could yank on those silver locks right as she leaned forward and breathed in hungrily; or Uzi could grope lower, grab that suggestively‍-​bright tie and tug, like a lose thread which would unravel that suit and J’s composure with it; or Uzi could bite and scratch and pin her down like a—

And J would play along. J would dance to the rhythms of music she couldn’t hear—her core gripped in sympathetic shiver‍-​hums like an instrument waiting for its part.

But J didn’t know anything about what was going on, she just felt the urge. And if Uzi pulled her along, stole this dance from her—it was all a bit forward, wasn’t it?

Ugh. There’s a power dynamic here and it’s NOT the one you think.

Uzi was panting, core whirring like it would rock out of her chest. J had eyes animated closed, lips parted as if silently pleading for more. Then she seemed to dimly realized something unacceptable had come over her, her expression froze and then almost physically this display was wrenched back inside herself with effort that showed its strain. J tried to glare, flatly and skeptically.

Uzi could feel that if she kept her waiting any longer, J would tap her stiletto‍-​peg impatiently, only she was so unsteady on her feet that this would tip her over. J would fall, but Uzi could feel she was positioned just right to catch her, and then—

She was getting lost in daydreams. Almost as bad as her classmates.

There was no fighting it, not completely. Uzi leaned forward, like she longed to do, but with effort, twisted to ensure her lips had no course to J’s. (They weren’t ready for that.)

No, Uzi brought her mouth to J’s audials, and turned up her synth’s breath parameter. ASMR whisper voice activate.

“J… you’ve got a bitcrush,” Uzi said. “I can’t believe the company never told you about the bolts and the bytes.”

[nestababe]

So I caved and wrote a nessian fic 🫣 this is lowkey in reference to my post a couple days ago about wanting to see Nessian seperate with the bond still intact but seeing Cassian have regrets.

Can you also spot the Naley ref(OTH)

I’m a little rusty but here it is.

The prompt:

“Your sisters love you. I can’t for the life of me understand why, but they do. If you can’t be bothered to try for my happy little circle’s sake, then at least try for them.”

The idea:

A chuckle of disbelief slipped out into the air in response. Chewing down on her lip and turning away was the only thing stopping her from crying,she could barely look at him.

This wasn’t the first time she’d had those words thrown at her. She could usually handle it, the comments, the stares from anyone else she could take it but coming from him…

She couldn’t stand it.

“ Neither do I. But for some reason, no matter how many times I fuck up or push them away they’re still there. Because whether anyone in that damn house likes it or not they’re my family.” She spat, pointing in the direction of the building behind her. “And families bicker, and argue with one another. They laugh and cry with each other. My family may not be perfect but at least we’re trying to learn how to love each other.”

After years of discontentment between her and her sisters they were finally in a good place with each other. It’d been hard before their mother died and even worse after. The drift between the girls had driven them further and further apart once they were turned. And it didn’t help when her youngest sister's friends hated the mere sight of her. Her and Feyre had long since made up, but for some reason or another her sister’s family couldn’t get over their disdain for her.

“We all fuck up and say things in the heat of the moment. But guess what? No matter how hard you try and push away people that love you, they'll still be there. Even if you are unworthy of that love they give.”

A cool breeze brushed past them, cooling the heat in her veins. She could hear her heartbeat ringing in her ears as realisation dawned on her.

The words from moments before played on repeat inside her mind “Your sisters love you. I can’t for the life of me understand why, but they do.” Something in her cracked wide open, that feeling from so long ago threatening to rear its ugly head. She pulled on the ends of her long sleeves for some kind of comfort.

“I shouldn’t have said that. Just forget I said anything, come on let’s just go back inside.” He gently picked up her hand leading them towards the house.

“You know what?” She said, surprising herself with how calm she sounded. “ I’m done with this.”

“What are you talking about?” he halted watching as her hand slipped from his grip.

“All of this. You, us, whatever this fucked up mating bond is. I’m done.”

“ You don’t mean that.” he started, crossing his arms over his chest, his eyebrows pinching together, those bright red siphons on his hands illuminating against the sleeves of his winter coat. “Look, let's just go, we're keeping them waiting.”

She tried to find anywhere in her memory where he had told her he loved her. Any moment where he chose her. Stood up for her.

“Is that all you seriously care about right now?”

“Nesta-”

“Fine, if you want to go back and exchange more ‘gifts’ with your old lover and sit in silence whilst your High Lord makes passive comments then be my guest. But I am not going back there Cassian.”She looked at the male in front of her. The light from the moon shone down on his face, his jaw clenched tight. She could feel something shift between their bond.

“Okay, well then I’ll see you at home.” He huffed puffing out a breath into the cold winter air.

“That’s it? That’s all you have to say to me?”

“What more do you want? I’m done with the arguing but you don’t see me bitching about it. Can’t we just have one solstice without us fighting?

The idea of being so desperate to be loved by someone wasn’t foreign to her but she hated the mere thought of begging for love from him.

“What I want is for you to fight for me, fight for us. I would’ve died for you that day. Fuck, I was willing to die with you.” Her voice cracked at the sound of her desperation. “I’ve fought for you, for us. And for years I’ve had to sit there and watch as you continue to actively avoid having to stick up for me to your friends. I’m done.”

She spoke with a shallow breath “I’m sorry that all I have ever wanted is for you to love me for me. But I'm not sorry that I can’t be who you want me to be. I gave you my heart. And if that’s not enough for you. Then I’m not enough for you.”

The weight of her words hung heavy in the air between them. He winced a pained expression washing across his face, she recognised that look of hurt, it mirrored her own.

“Nesta please.” He reached for her through the bond they shared, she could feel him tugging at that golden thread that tied their souls together as if she was slipping away from him.

“Just go Cassian.Go be with the people you love.” She put up those mental shields, that wall that separated her from the bond.

“Happy Solstice Cass.”

And with that she turned around leaving the Illyrian soldier.

[nani-nonny]

I want to see if I can weite drunk

Fi knows Leohas been watching her. She can feel it. She can feel his eyes locked on her shell, judging and specilating her purpose in twvaelling all these years to the past. And for what? To supposedly save their world from pink aljens?

She knows how strange it sounds to a youjg thrtle. But it shouldnt be outrages to a mutant thrtle created in a lab by an unsupeevised goat mam who formerly wished to take over the human overworkd for the sake of yomai.

But to follow her all the way to the middle of nowhere with nothing but a butter knife is a new level of stupdity that Fi was not used to in the past version of the resitance leader.

It was foolish. It was unplanned. It is dangerous.

So she stops in her tracks and snaps in the young turtle’s direction. The teen flinches in respknse and ducks immediately.

“Leonardo. I know you’re there,” she announces. She takes a seat on the nearest stuitable chaie which happened to be a broken gate.

“If you wished to observe me secrwlty then I can assure you will never succeed in doing so. I knkw yourpresence. And you are far less trained than your future counterpart. If you wanted to follow along I would jave agreed. You have no need to strain yourself.”

The teen waits for a moment before he sighs and reveals himself from the corner of a builmding fhat she passed. He slimps over with deagging feet, his butter knife loose in his hand. “How did you know?”

“You wont like the andwr,” she replies coldly. “But if you must know, I can hear you wuite clearly.”

“How did you hear me? I applied all my ninja arts I larned from dad.”

She stares him, trying to pinpoint the tiniest quiver in his wxpressionwthat shoes he’s joking. To her shrpise, he isn’t.

“Your foot steps are quite lpud, Leonardo. Not louder than the avergae person’s but loud enough,” she replies truthsully. “One dH you will succeed in sneaking up on me, but that day is not this day or the next. Oerhaps it wont appear for months to come.”

“So I nailed it once? How? What did I do? Was it cool?”

“You stabbed me, Leonardo.”

“What.”

“Stabbed me,” she repeats then points at her side, ljfting her arm to reveal the tiniest sliver in her shell that shows a split when she stretched her body to the side. “You were successful in stabbing me from behind,” she reiterates.

“It was quite the shrprise,” she compliments as she lowers her arm.

“Why did I stab you?” Leonardo asks, leaning forward with integiue.

“Because I went too far.”

Leonardo leans back sljgntly, a cautious expression washing over instsntly. “What did you do?”

“Do you truly want the answer now? Or would you prefer it later?”

“Would it change my mind about you?”

Fi shrugs, “Perhaps. I do not know. I am not as talented in reading people like you are and will be.”

[weirdcat1213]

HYUNA'S PART WHEN SHE SINGS "MAKE ME YOIR GOD I CAN GIVE YOU EVERYTHING" IEHIEDHISHWJEHRIDUDKRHRU HYUNAAAAAAAAAA

[random-chaos-and-stuff]

Silly Game Time: Who are the protagonists of two stories you really enjoy? (could be from any media: movies, shows, novels, games, comics, etc.) (yes, OCs count) AND which of them is better with animals?

You know what? I’m feeling particularly dragony today, so I’m going with Lady Trent from A Natural History of Dragons, and Princess Cimorene from the Enchanted Forest Chronicles. And though I love Cimorene a lot, and do think she’d be good with animals, Lady Trent wins, as she is a naturalist and has to actively care for and study the dragons she has, as well as the fact that she loved animals when she was younger too, and with all the time she puts into her work I feel like she would have to be good with animals. It’s shown in the books too that she’s overall pretty good with animals, especially the dragons she studies.

[labyrinthinesyndicatex]

"So now I'm ruining you for future compliments?" Anais said, laughing as they walked toward the exit. "That sounds like a personal problem, not my fault you set the bar so low." The cool night air hit them as they stepped outside, and she could feel the shift between them - two hours of conversation that had spiraled way past her original plan. She was supposed to be gathering intel on Izel, figuring out weak spots she could exploit later. Instead she'd spent the entire dinner genuinely enjoying herself, which was definitely not part of any revenge strategy. This whole thing was getting messy in ways she hadn't expected. Her father would have liked Demir - the honesty, the way he admitted his mistakes without trying to pretty them up. Made her want to forget about the Solis family entirely, which was dangerous territory considering they were the reason she was here in the first place. 

"And dangerous dessert was definitely an understatement," she continued, stopping next to her car. "Though I have to say, for someone who claims he's not done yet, you're being awfully polite about this whole walking me out thing." The teasing came naturally, even though her pulse was doing weird things every time he looked at her like that. Like he actually meant what he'd said about not being able to think about anyone else. Which should have been perfect for her plan except it didn't feel calculated anymore. It felt real, and that was terrifying. "You know what though?" she said, stepping closer and reaching up to kiss his cheek softly. "Thanks for not being boring. I actually had fun tonight, which is more than I can say for most dinner dates." She pulled back with a grin that felt more genuine than strategic, already moving toward her driver's side door. "Try not to miss me too much before round two happens."

He watched her take another bite of tiramisu like it was a performance designed just for him—and, frankly, it kind of was. The way she talked, the way she moved, the way she stole food with absolutely no shame—it was all hitting him harder than he cared to admit. The sweet bite of espresso and mascarpone lingered on his tongue, but not as much as her words did. When she'd first come into his life in that harshly lit grocery store aisle, Demir hadn't expected to be quite so charmed in this way.

He was normally good at keeping his emotions and feelings at bay, but something about Anais just--called out to him. He leaned in slightly, elbows on the table, grin slow and dangerous. “Stealing food with dedication, falling into dangerous emotional territory… and now ruining me for future compliments?” He shook his head, mock-somber. “I’m really not going to be able to think about anyone else for a long time huh?”

The glance he gave her wasn’t playful this time—it was deliberate. Focused. “You know, you say I won this round like you weren’t sitting across from me, killing me slowly with pasta theft and that smile. But I’ll take the win, if it means there’s a round two.” When the waiter interrupted, Demir didn’t move immediately. He just sat there, watching Anais check her watch like she couldn’t quite believe how fast the night had gone. That made two of them.

“I told you dessert would be dangerous,” he said, standing and sliding his coat off the back of the chair with a practiced ease. “But I’m not done yet. This isn’t over, Anais.” He stepped beside her as she stood, voice lowering just a touch as he added, “I’m going to walk you out, and if you're not careful, I might even ask when I get to ruin your evening again.” He held the door for her this time too—no ceremony, no smug comment. Just a glance that said everything he hadn’t yet: You surprised me. I want more.

[p33p33p00p00]

nobody understands how much susie deltarune means to me

[greenpervert]

last exam ever 👍🏽 for a stupid ass course too but it’s DONE thank GOD

[spidernerd625]

I actually love learning history, but we barely learn any of it in school. I want to learn EVERYTHING! ESPECIALLY the crazy stuff! Teach me the things that don't make sense! Teach me the details about how people loved, what they did! What shinanigins did they get up to? Make me reenact something ridiculous and crazy!

Gods, I love history!

Got these pictures from my for you page on Tik Tok

These pictures are NOT mine.