#Still it was a nice trip down memory lane

[sphere-in-the-corner]

So I've finally come to terms that I will likely never roleplay again. I think I'm just tired of doing so, or I simply outgrew it. Idk. I just don't feel the same joy that I did way back when I first started. Either way, in order to congratulate myself for this discovery I felt like posting all of the characters I created. There will likely be some that I can't remember the names of and would be unable to find them, since the forums they were on have vanished. Or I would simply be too lazy to go look them up.

Tumblr

Let's start with the ones I created for this website.

Pokemon OC - Duke. An ex team rocket member and his team. Techinacally I didn't create him for rping on here, but I did try importing him over. I never really did anything, so that fell flat. I'll talk about him later when I get to the part where I first created him.

OC - Sadie. So this one was supposed to be more of an ask blog, back when those were popular. She was supposed to be an exiled alien princess. She was exiled because of her sadistic tendencies.

I never really got to do much with her because in search of images to reblog to build her character and what she'd like, it ended up becoming a porn blog. In which I learned quite a bit about myself.

Tentacl

Ever heard of Tentacl? Probably not. Am I misspelling the name? Maybe, but I think this is right. Anyways on to the characters.

OC - Name unknown. Yeah, I don't really remember much about this, other than the fact that it was a supernatural rp; not the show, the genre. I think they were either a vampire, ghost, or werewolf. While it was not my first time erping, it was the first time I actually tried. I believed it would help broaden my horizons. While I can't remember it, I'm sure it was cringe and I'm glad it is gone forever.

RP Nation

I believe this is the most famous rping sites out there, but I'm not a huge fan. Most of the rps require you to use CSS to make it look nice, but I really didn't care for it.

Star Wars OC - Name Unknown. He was created as a clone during the clone wars. He was a sniper, and much like Crosshair from Bad Batch, he had a mark around his eye. But this was before Bad Batch was a thing. The rp didn't go very far. I think the style the creator tried to force us to go with was just really not my style and everyone just stopped posting after they tried to force it.

There might have been other characters, but I can't remember them. They could have just been ideas instead of fully fleshed out. I really can't remember.

Google +

Yeah, you read that right. They had some rping going on over there. All these characters were from the same forum. It was a mish mash of OCs and established characters like the Doctor or Sentry. I much preferred creating my own characters rather than using someone else's.

OC - Eznho LastName. I don't know if I spelled the name correctly, I know there's an h in there somewhere, but oh well. He was a native american, back in the days of early colonization. He and his tribe were killed, except he came back to life. With this new immortality he went out and got revenge. Ladda ladda, years later, present time, he became a vagabond. Trying to hide who he was, because the government is evil. His immortality only works when he dies. His body heals itself to brand new, forgetting the sensations, except for his mind. And being experimented on for years left him scarred. He wasn't that fun to play with the other characters, but it wasn't too bad.

OC - Arsinoe LastName. This one was much more fun to use with the people there. She was an alien princess, or noble with an army of nanobots. So, her planet revolted against the ruling class and her side was losing poorly. One day she fell into a coma and came out with psychic powers which had disappeared from the gene pool years ago. They start winning some battles, but it's not enough. So they try to boost he powers by giving her nanobots. It works! Then the nanobots take over and destroy the world. Then she regains control over the nanobots, but now she's evil. She's a little psycho, but clear headed.

There night have been another one, if there was I never used them.

FanFiction

I think I might have spent the most time here rping. It was a lot of fun, and where I made the most memories. A lot of it cringe, but that's the best part.

Young Justice OC - Frank Gorbachev Gorbak AKA Dark Blade. Jesus, Dark Blade? Talk about an edgy teen, lol. So, I initially created him with the last name Gorbachev because at the time they had a tournament thing going separately from the main story. I wanted my character to go into the tournament and have the announcer say "Mr. Gorbachev, tear down the wall." With the wall obviously being his opponent. But I created him too late. His power, was that he was able to pull swords out from anything, but they all ended up being black, hence Dark Blade.

He was supposed to be this cool edgy character, but after interacting with the others, he ended up being a complete dork and doofus. I did not stick to his original personality whatsoever, and honestly disappointing. He became a stereotypical anime pervert.

However, due to some conflict with the owner of the forum and one her friends, the forum was nuked, but brought back. There, he changed a bit, like normal comic book characters. It was here where I changed his name. Made him less of a pervert and into a raging misogynist. Not what I was going for, but how it ended up. I changed how his powers work a little. Instead of a whole ass sword from like a paper, the sword had the attributes and thickness of the material he used.

This was also the forum that got me to start cursing. Before that, my mouth was clean. There is also a bunch of other stories with this forum, but that's for another day.

Dragon Age OC - Name Unknown. I started this one after I finished Dragon Age 2, which I really liked. And the people in the forum were from another one that I was in, so it really shouldn't have been that bad. Except only playing 2, I had no idea what they were talking about. It lasted for a short while before everyone just stopped.

Monster Hunter OC - E. Yeah, just a letter for a name. It was based off of my character in game. You can tell I'm great with names. He was brash and energetic. A bit of a dumbass for sure. The forum was fun and lasted for a while. I had him die at one point because I was bored of the forum, but I brought him back. I tired to change his personality as a way to spice things up, but I eventually dropped it as a whole.

Monster Hunter OC - Sebastien Ottobahn. He was fun to write. A hermit hunter who has the power to transform into a monster because the setting allowed it. He ended up killing his old party accidentally in a fit of rage, which is why he is a hermit. He hates himself for what he is, and blames that for why he killed his friends. There are others like him in the world, both natural and artificial, and he hates them all. After some conflict with the other characters he gets defeated. The forum ended before it finished. Like right at the end. So in order to give him a good ending I made a little story to wrap up his arc.

Monster Hunter OC - Ismene LastName. Another fun one. She has voices in her head. Much like Sebastien, same forum, she has a monster side, but hers is artificial. She was a member of the Dark Guild, who focused on ridding the world of monsters, using science! And much to her credit she is quite smart. However, she has the wisdom of a sack of rocks. Being a genius at a young age and being told no, meant she had to do it anyway. She created a mixture that would allow her to transform into a monster all by herself, without notes, when it took the other scientists years to do so. Buuut, she messed up. Now she has hundreds of different souls of monsters trying to take over her body which has slowly reduced her sanity. Only reason she keeps them in check is because the sould of the founder is keeping them at bay, hoping to take over.

She meets the protagonists as an enemy, is defeated easily and decides to join them for fun. No loyalty. She helps their side fight in the war, and the forum ends before we get to a conclusion. sad

Pokemon OC - Johnathan (or maybe another Sebastien). He was an old trainer who almost had title of champion. He gave it up because at the time he was sure he'd win easily and didn't want to be disappointed with a boring battle. After he'd travel the world helping young trainers on their journey, all the while looking like a lazy bum, cuz he sleeps all day, and only trains at night. I did not use him a lot. Having an OP character when everyone else are just beginners felt awkward.

Pokemon OC - Duke Mense. Finally got back to him. He's an ex-Rocket member, as they had been dissolved, and was looking to start his own team. In doing so he slipped into Plasma and worked as a spy trying to get info for his own. That's really all there was to him. He never really interacted with the other characters, due to him being a villain. But when I made him I felt much more attachement and wanted to do more and expand his history. Which is why I failed to start the one in the beginning. I could write a story, but I'm bad at writing and all that other stuff. I have made oneshots here and there with him and the others, but they're all garbage.

Pokemon OC - Name Unknown. This is actually two characters. They were brothers and gijinkas. One was a yanmega, and the other a sabelye. Once again, they were bad guys and left on the background and didn't get to do much. I'm great at creating characters that isolate themselves and wonder why I don't rp that much.

RWBY OC - Farren Sicks. I created him after watching hunter x hunter and a stick figure fight. I made his weapon a shield and his semblace the ability to create fog. No fairy tale for this guy, but his name does match a color. Farren for steel, which is gray; and Sicks, read as six, which in hexidecimal I believe all 6's would make a gray. I don't remember much, it didn't get very far, or I just dropped it.

Fiction Press

FF sister site and probably where I created the most characters and spent most of my rping time. Since these are all OC's I won't need to denote that.

Johnathan E. Zachfire. This was a zombie rp and probably the first one I tried out in earnest. He accidentlly killed a couple he was robbing and was sent to jail. He was there when the virus broke out, which helped him break out. He made it to a shelter, but it pretty much ended there. There was only two of us and the other guy disappeared.

Name Unknown (Lucifer). Another zombie rp, but with vampires. I don't remember his actual name, but had a split personality ala movie trope, who went by Lucifer. And since the main body was wet cardboard, the evil side was more fun to play. There was a good cast of characters and it was fun. eventually people dropped out and it died. That was a bit heartbreaking because I believe it was the first one I got real attached to. Looking back though, it was cringe. At least I was. I got so needlessly angry when a character criticized mine, in character. I took it as a personal attack. It was bad.

Names Unknown. This one was a historical rp. There were a few characters I created. One for the american revolution, another for another time period, and another for another. I don't really remember that much, but I do know it wasn't too bad. I eventually ended up dropping it.

Names Unknown. This was a supernatural rp. ther premise was that every angel demon, pagan god, what have you fought a giant war, died, and was reborn as humans with power. One character was a demon who had the ability to heat the surrounding area. Not himself, just the air around him. The other was the reincarnation of Tartarus and was a warden at a jail, real original. That didn't last long either, but was fun while it lasted.

Name Unknown. This was a spy rp. Or more accurately an assassin rp. My character had a temper and was almost not allowed to join the organization during his trial run, but was given another chance. He just had to kill someone else. In that mission, I felt like no matter what I did, or how much my character was prepared they were going to to lose. My character sneaks in, gets caught immediately because of some dumb bs, and things of the sort. I tried to play around it, but gave up and left. It went on for a while after I left and then it died,

Name Unknown. This one was a pirate rp. My character was an ex dread pirate whose crew mutinied. He ended up another pirates crew as a cook, planning on taking over. The owner wanted to wait for more people before starting, it never started.

Name Unknown. This was a fantasy rp. The setting was card themed. four kingdoms with spades, cloves, diamonds, and hearts. There was a forest in between them which was forbidden to enter because diplomacy. My character was thief from the poor kingdom, tried to steal from the richer one and was chased out. It felt like there could have been a romance to bloom between the poor bad guy and the good rich girl. It was fun, but died too soon.

Name Unknown. This was a fantasy rp. The setting, the world stopped rotating, and the world went dark. I don't believe we talked about the other side, but that didn't matter. In the darkness were monsters that ate humanity. and humans were stuck in small villages with lights surrounding because it kept the monsters out. My character was born out in the darkness and learned to get around. He is eventually found and brought to a village, but the light burns his eyes. The idea was interesting, but this too died quickly.

Name Unknown. this was a supernatural rp. I really don't remember anything about this one, other than the fact that my character was a vampire who experimented on himself. He made himself a lot heavier and moved his fangs to his throat. That way they came out like an eels.

Names unknown. This was a fantasy rp. the setting, time has frozen still. Those who are still able to move gained powers, but are being hunted down. My character was kidnapped and beaten just before the event. Then he gained teleportation and freed himself. Now he was afraid of people, but eventually teamed up with another person. Due to some miscommunication between me and the other player, we ended up fighting and both just stopped. The other character I played was the main villain. Some old guy from Ancient Egypt who stops time and grants power, only to steal it away to gain extra years of his life. Apparently the owner liked the way I played villains.

Name Unknown. This was a sci-fi rp. Setting wasn't very clear. My character was an ex alien slave who had the power transform his body for a few hours at a time. Somehow he learned that by eating people he can keep that form permanently. He starts a rebellion and frees his people. He then goes across the universe freeing other worlds from slavery. His cannibalism allows himself to extend his life by replacing body parts with the ones he's eaten. It doesn't need to make sense. His species however only lives up to 50 years, and he was like 150, so his mind was all there. When he meets the other characters it wasn't too bad. But like a dumb fucking idiot I thought "You know, I should give him a flaw to round him out a bit more. What could a person who frees slaves have as a flaw? Oh I know, I'll make him a pedo. Genius!" And then he starts simping for a little hours old baby! Like how dumb could I be to miss the huge flaw that is him being a fucking cannibal?! And then I tried to pass it off as normal? Like jesus christ bro, what were you thinking? Yeah, that rp didn't last much longer after that, and I don't blame them. If you were from there and end up reading this, I'm so sorry.

Misc.

These are for all the others that I have forgotten about or just don't fit neatly into the other categories.

I have 5 dnd characters. Whose names elude me, but they were a human paladin, a tabaxi rogue, a gnome sorcerer, a half-elf barbarian, and a hombrew creature druid. Because of scheduling these never did get anywhere.

DBZ OC - ???. Yeah that was his name. He was created on some dbz forum website. I got like one post in before I stopped. I had no idea what I was doing. He was also the first rp character I ever created.

If I remember anymore characters I'll update.

[wanderingchocolateeclair]

Of all the pairings in My Hero, why Edgejeanist? How'd you discover their potential?

Oh god this is a good question- here we go lmao

STRAP IN, you are getting a story /lh:

To start with: Jeanist is my favourite character in the entire franchise.

I didn’t think he was interesting at first, and my first impressions of him were. Very contrasted to how he actually is. (I, for some reason, had this impression he would be a very cowardly, annoying character that would sacrifice others to save himself)

(don't ask how, but that was the first impressions i got from seeing him visually)

So when Kamino happened, I suddenly just went "Oh. I was very wrong about this character. This is now my favourite character."

So, fast forward ONE DAY, and I've got a whole set of hcs and thoughts for Jeanist. But I need more content

So I rewatch the Kamino Arc.

Thats when Edgeshot comes on the screen and I actually notice him properly for the first time, I immediately liked his design and-

Quite literally couldn't make this up if i tried-

My Brain basically just CLICKED and I went "Oh. I feel something here. I also like this character let me look them up."

I noticed a) they were next to each other in the ranking and b) are of similar age.

And then my brain just went: Oh. There's a possibility for a ship here.

I had a very strong feeling about it and immediately took to shipping them from that one feeling.

I then looked up the ship and found next to nothing for them.

Turned to tumblr and found one ask blog and asked them what the name of the ship was, they said 'edgejeanist' and then. didnt. post again. sadly.

so I looked up the tag and there were about two or three total posts for them. and none were active makers for the ship.

SO

I took matters into my own hands and learnt how to draw digitally purely for the sake of making stuff for this ship. Started writing for them too.

fastforward 3 years and here we are!! The community has grown AMAZINGLY, we've got shit happening in canon, and I am still here LMAO

OR, basically: I saw them, and instantly shipped them on a whim from a deep rooted feeling of them clicking together and then i fell down the rabbit hole and am still here 3 years later lol

[crimezi]

ello ello i took ur dsmp uquiz and got tubbo :D ur playlists are very nice btw ^^

idk just wanted to say hi and have a nice day :]

oh dear lord, that quiz is so old!!!! glad you enjoyed it tubbo's was my 2nd favorite dsmp playlist because i had so many feelings about him circa jan 2021 but like a few months back i added a few songs to all of the dsmp crew i should update that quiz for sure

have a great day too >:3

[fcxchild-blog]

peeks in

[thesacrificialdove]

𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐋𝐘 𝐒𝐔𝐑𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐄𝐒 1.6k words rich yandere x gn!reader — ko-fi | patreon | masterlist | inbox | taglist | home | req. & comms

tags sugar daddy, rich yandere, low-key obsessive behaviour, first meetings, college student reader, age gap, brief mention of a rapist (no description or anything more)

—📜" Being a broke college student, you decide to try your hand at getting a sugar daddy. You find someone who is... quite eager to know everything about you. It's weird because he doesn't seem to be the same person he was online.

They say to spend your youth on nightclubs and partying with friends. But really, they don’t know the true beauty of being in a jazz club and drinking all by yourself. There’s no ill intentions, there’s no partying until the sun goes down—just some nice music and good drinks.

People find it odd, sure. But nothing can beat this feeling for you. As you lay in a couch that’s worth double your college tuition, you drink champagne that's triple your college tuition. 

How you ended up here is another embarrassing story. Hunting for a sugar daddy online is a clear plan for destruction. It could end well with a decent allowance every now and then, of course. Yet, fear gets the most of you. The thought that you end up with a fat well and alive man who asks for sex with his small dick looms over you like a gloomy cloud. That fear is there because your sugar daddy is anonymous.

Sighing, you drink another sip of the champagne as you fix your posture. Again. The seat in front of you is still empty. You’d think he wasn’t really being honest with you but he did have a reservation ready for the both of you.

It’s not bad to wait. Even if you do look dumb getting stood up, at least you’re enjoying yourself.

“You lonely there?” someone asks behind you.

Turning your head behind you, you see a towering man with a smile so bright you think you could be blinded by it. He looks elegant—the way he’s holding a glass like a connoisseur and his long black hair pulled into a slick ponytail. Fuck, is he your sugar daddy? He looks the age for it and honestly, he aged really good.

You tell him, “Maybe. Are you lonely?”

He chuckles and takes the seat opposite. Finally. “No,” he says, “not anymore, at least. All thanks to…?” he gestures to you.

When you tell him his name, he parrots it like he’s tasting it. “Beautiful. Your mother picked it out?”

“I’m sure so,” you don’t know, who the hell would know that? ���It’s a generational name, really. In our family we keep reusing names.”

“So are you the second? The third?”

The third was your great grandfather but he ended up being a rapist. Eugh. “The fourth,” you answer. “But I never tell anyone that, actually. Bit embarrassing if they call me the fourth, so.”

He laughs, somehow finding you amusing. “Nicolas,” he says, “very nice to meet you.”

Was… his name Nicolas? You’re not so sure about that. From the site he only revealed his last name so that you could get the reservation. Huh.

“Nice to meet you, Nicolas.” The little twitch in his lips is unavoidable to your eyes, “You look very nice tonight,” maybe that’s why he took almost an hour to arrive here. “Do you live near here or?”

“Oh, no,” he shakes his head, “I come from Bolzano. But I came here from Portofino, where my heart currently is.”

You nod like you know where those places really are. Italy, you assume. “Very nice. I heard it’s a beautiful place.”

“Beatiful even more with company,” he puts his drink down. “How about you? What makes you come here?”

You, actually. You wanted to go here. “I was raised by my grandfather and jazz was his favourite. Every corner of the house Hank Mobley would be playing. I have his old records that he passed down to me and whenever I play it, I can see the way he dances.”

“So, come down here for a little trip to memory lane?”

Before you could answer, you think about it even more. The man you were talking was definitely not Italian, right? No, his name sounded British, at most. And Nicolas sounds like he has little to no knowledge about the fact that you two are supposedly on a date.

Fuck, did you get him wrong? I mean, he is interested, you think.

“Yeah, it’s nice,” you hum. You put your glass down too, clasping your hands. “I think I do need to go now. It was nice to have your company—”

“Going so soon? A bit rude especially if you came here to be mine for a price, no?”

You pause. Though you’re ready to leave this embarrassing meeting, you’re caught. You turn to him in confusion. So you were… wrong? Right? 

“Sit back down, this champagne is a bit too new to me.” He raises a hand and someone immediately finds their footing beside him. Nicolas speaks in his own tongue, requesting something you don’t understand.

You’re promptly back on your seat with a small wave of his hand. “Come on, I think we have a lot to learn about each other. But I know you.”

Did he send in a private investigator or what? Fuck, man. You didn’t think that those things were real in real life. “How much do you know?”

He doesn’t answer. His legs are crossed as he watches the busboy leave to prepare your drinks. “How are your classes?” he asks, making idle conversation of things you’re a bit worried to talk to him about. “Hope you’re dealing well.”

“Yeah,” you say, unsure of this now. “It’s all fine, yes. Just a few projects and classes.” You wonder for a moment how rude it would be to ask for a price on your body right now. “Nothing interesting, really.”

“I’m sure anything you say is of interest,” he says, all too fond of you. “Tell me, love, you mentioned having difficulties with some of your professors.”

He wasn’t interested in all that before when you were talking. “It’s fine. Well, not like I can say no. It’s a bit hard when you’re paying for an education and you’re not being taught,” you laugh, “Self-taught learning, he excuses.”

“That’s simply lazy,” he excuses. “Fine arts is such a nice career path. No reason to be dismissive of students who want to learn it.”

Did you tell him what you’re studying?

The busboy returns and brings a drink to the both of you. The song changes and it sounds familiar. You could almost see your grandfather dance behind Nicolas.

“I’m going to guess that’s your doing,” you say, “Thank you. It sounds lovely.”

He smiles, “I’m not one for jazz myself.” He reaches for his glass and swirls in, taking a whiff of its scent afterward. “But I’m curious as to who you are. How you grew up is one of those things”

When the both of you talked online, you expected him to be more lustful than this. Maybe it’s the repeating innuendo in his messages. All of that persona is gone now as if it never existed. It’s concerning.

Both of you make small conversation. Mostly it’s about you. He asks every little detail about you, asking for things that not even your friends would care about. It’s the little things.

‘Do you like soft cotton or silk?’ You don’t really know the difference but cotton is nice.

‘How often do you see your family?’ Every or so month, you’d wager. But you make sure to keep in contact.

‘What’s your thoughts on caged animals?’ A bit cruel, but you can see where it can stem from. Still, it’s cruel. You’d never do it.

The night come to a close when you start to feel a bit light-headed with the drinks you’ve ingested. Nicolas puts aside your glass as he stands to go on your side of the table. “Maybe it’s time to take a break tonight, love?”

You groan. “Yeah, I guess that’s fine now. I’m really thankful for tonight.”

“I’m glad,” he says, pulling you up and helping you walk. You don’t need it but it’s nice anyways. “I can take you back to your dorm, yes? You don’t need to worry about anything else when you’re with me.”

In your pocket, your phone buzzes. You don’t get to check it when Nicolas wraps both of his arms around your waist. He pulls you to the exit and you swear you hear ‘Signore Giordano’ come out when the men bid him goodnight.

Which is weird, because his surname is Abbot.

The ride was a blur, literally. Maybe you’ve had too much to drink. The next thing you know is that both of you are in front of your dorm. It’s too dark outside. The streets are dead silent. The low rumble of his car is the only thing you can really hear.

He calls your name. “It’s time to go home. You can’t stay with me yet, love.”

You stretch in the seat. A car seat has never been more comfortable. “Been nice, really. Thank you.”

As you unbuckle your seat, he leans forward. His arm drapes over your shoulders as his hand comes to your face. “Then can I get a little reward? Just a little?” He turns his cheek, a grin on his face.

It’s stupid but oh well, he would pay you. You press a kiss on his cheek and he looks like the happiest man alive. He laughs, looking at you with stupid heart eyes. “Thank you. Call me with this number��” he places a card in your hands—”and delete that damn app. I’ll come find you after your classes tomorrow for your contract. You don’t need to find anyone else now.”

He leaves shortly after you get inside your dorm. You hear the revving of his car go in the quiet night. It’s relieving. You’re tired on your feet, unable to really process what happened tonight.

It’s whatever. It’s all done now.

You delete the app on your phone, swiping away a message you got from it. You’re pretty sure it’s from another match you had last time but again, you don’t need it anymore.

do not redistrubute this work as yours/without permission or feed to AI 📷 art by @ L0tus_Ren_ & @ Ivan Belikov

[mydadleft471]

A Trip Down Memory Lane

Summary: Messmer decides to surprise you in more ways than one.

Spoilers for both Elden Ring and Shadow of the Erdtree. No warnings tho, just me loving my fiery redhead.

MESSMER LOVERS COME EAT!

I finally got the courage to upload the fic I was working on! Everyone was so nice (and starving for Messmer content) so I folded lmao. Please enjoy and understand that I have never written anything like this, especially with ye olde English. It's a pain.

“I have something I wish to show thee.” Messmer’s low voice cut through the silence reverberating in his chamber.

“What is it?” You look up from patching a hole in one of his cloaks.

“I cannot say. It is a surprise.” His eye twinkled with something akin to mischief. You put down your needle and gently fold his cloak, putting it on your chair to finish later.

“A surprise for me? Are you feeling alright, My Lord?” You smile at him from where he towers above you. 

“Shush. Wilt thou follow?” 

“Always,” you say.

He leads you down countless flights of stairs and through the castle’s corridors. Down a hallway, you follow him as he steps into a lift that takes you to a part of the castle that is unfamiliar to you. You assumed you had explored everything by now, but it seems you were wrong. Messmer had given you permission to freely roam the castle, and you had spent a lot of time exploring the various rooms. You had gotten lost many times within the many twisting and confusing hallways, but the castle staff always led you back to your quarters. 

The path from the lift leads out to a part of the castle almost entirely flooded. This seems like a place that hasn’t been occupied in many years. Some of the buildings you can see appear to be collapsing and debris litters the area. The water churns uneasily below you, as if something lurks in the depths. Taking a few steps away from the ledge, you stare out into the water that swallows surrounding buildings.

“What is it?” Messmer asks. He senses your trepidation in going any further, though you don’t think you have much to worry about with a powerful demigod at your side. Still, this place sets your nerves alight and has you on high alert.

“I’ve never seen this place before. Where are we?”

He speaks as if it’s common knowledge. “The Church District.”

“What happened here?”

He takes a second before he responds in a flat tone. “It does not matter.” Noticing your face falling slightly, he gives you a small smile. “Thy surprise is near. Come.”

You continue to follow him, your footfalls mere echoes of his much heavier ones. You wonder where he is taking you, and why he decided to surprise you. Though you have gotten much closer to him throughout your time in the Realm of Shadow, you can’t wrap your head around the fact that he wants to show you something himself. So many unanswered questions, though Messmer brings about many of those. Still, you cannot complain about how well he treats you now after you’ve earned some of his trust. You are safe within his walls, and you are welcome.

Though you wish he’d let you into his heart and mind more often, you take what you can get.

Finally, he stops in a room with a large, and complete, statue of Queen Marika. Many throughout the Realm of Shadow have been beheaded, sending icy chills through you when you first arrived, but this one is intact. The only signs of damage have been from the apparent age of the statue.

“Dost thou trust me?”

His question catches you off guard. Looking up at him, he looks vulnerable and almost uncomfortable. 

“Of course I do. I wouldn’t have followed if I didn’t.” You smile at him to ease his tension.

He relaxes slightly. “Of course. I will ask thee to trust me again.”

You shoot him a puzzled look. How could you trust him any more than you already have?

“Close thine eyes. I shall lead thee, hand in hand.”

The prospect of him holding your hand makes heat rush to your cheeks, but you comply. Closing your eyes, you hold out your hands, and a few seconds later, he grabs them in his much larger ones. He holds them delicately, as if you might break if he dares to squeeze your hands. His skin is surprisingly smooth and warm. 

“I will ensure thou dost not fall and injure thyself..” 

“I’d appreciate that.”

He chuckles at your comment, a sound so rare and pleasant you want to hear it again and again. He begins walking, gently guiding you down a hill and you soon feel sunlight on your skin. The air feels lighter and there is a pleasant smell of lavender and fresh grass in the air. You wonder where you could possibly be. You haven’t seen much greenery in the Realm of Shadow.

After a few minutes he stops and lets go of your hands. You instantly miss his warmth, but you soon feel the heat of him behind you. You keep your eyes closed out of obedience and trust; you know he would not harm you.

His hands gently find your waist and he moves you a few steps to the left. Satisfied, he lowers a hand over your eyes to ensure you will not open them prematurely.

“This place is sacred. Inviting thee here was not a spontaneous act.” His voice is a mere whisper in your ear. You can’t tell whether to be scared or excited for what he will soon allow you to see.

He moves his hand away from your eyes, but they remain closed. You will not sully his trust. 

You can hear the smile in his voice. He’s pleased by your obedience. 

“Open thine eyes.”

You do, and you are immediately greeted with a grassy field speckled with vibrant flowers. You’ve never seen so many in one place. You think it would take all day to identify them. Trickles of gold sit suspended in the air like shattered stained glass and the sunlight kisses your skin sweetly. Not far up a hill is a small village made up of a few wooden houses. They look old and mostly abandoned. You take in the beauty before you. Not even Leyendell was this spectacular.

“Thou’rt pleased, I take it?” His voice wavers slightly with uncertainty.

“This is a most wonderful surprise, My Lord. Thank you for bringing me here.” You look up at Messmer, whose golden eye seems to shine brighter in the sanctity of this place.

“Forget formalities here.” He sits down in the soft grass and you are soon to join him. He looks relaxed, even happy, here.

“May I ask where we are now?” You idly skim your fingertips over the silky petals of the flowers swaying in the breeze around your skirt.

“Mother’s home. Her village before she became a God.” 

Your mouth hangs open in shock. It takes you a few moments to gather yourself enough to speak. “Queen Marika lived here?”

“Yes,” he answers. “Long ago.”

You wonder if Marika wanted Messmer to guard her old home, or if he does it out of love for her. You’ve seen the state of other Shamans within his infirmary, his medics working day and night to try and reverse the torture they’d went through. You knew Marika was a Shaman herself, but you’d never realized this place was originally her home. Your heart hurts for the God-Queen. Behind all her power was a girl who wanted her people safe.

You sigh, and Messmer shoots you a curious look. “This is the first time I’ve seen Marika as a person. Knowing she lived here, knowing she suffered… I understand now.”

Messmer reaches up and takes his helmet off, gently placing it to his side. “Mother desired revenge for her peoples’ suffering, and I became her instrument to do so here, in the Land of Shadow.”

“Did you want this?” 

He closes his eye. “Mother has endured what a thousand people could not. I will ensure she receives her long-awaited deliverance.” He dodged the question. He does not want this, but he desires to avenge Marika.

“I know you won’t answer me truthfully, and we don’t have to talk about this anymore. But know this: you are not ‘The Impaler’ to me.”

“Thank you.” His response is so quiet you almost can’t hear it, despite being right next to him.

As promised, you change the subject. “Have you brought others here?”

He looks away and you can see a faint blush creeping up his cheeks.

“I have not. The first to lay eyes on this place is thee.” He admits.

“Why?”

“I-“ he begins. “Surely thou must know thy importance to me, yes?” 

The realization hits you. 

This is his way of saying he loves you.

You scoot closer to him and lay your head against his arm. You feel him tense, then slowly begin to relax. One of his snakes gently perches itself on your shoulder. You smile.

“You can touch me, you know.” You reassure him. “You won’t break me.”

Silence hangs in the breeze as you wait for him to respond.

“Dost thou understand my reason for bringing thee here?”

You nod against him. “I think so.”

He moves away from you, earning himself a confused look, then he slowly grabs your hands and pulls you closer until you are comfortably sitting between his legs. You look up at him and see that his face is almost as red as his hair. He is adorable when he blushes.

You could get used to this.

“You will forgive me if I am too presumptuous. I am… not accustomed to touch, yet I want thee closer.” His soft, silky voice makes your heart melt.

“I want you closer too. It’s okay.” You cup his face with both hands, and though it’s a simple gesture, he relaxes into your touch almost immediately. His eye closes and you try to memorize the look of peace etched on his face.

“With thee, I am content.” He whispers to you.

“Then I’ll see to it that we’re never separated.” 

His eye flutters open and he hazily looks down at your lips. His hand engulfs your cheek and you feel the warmth radiating from his palm.

So many have met their demise from the man sitting in front of you now, content and complacent, and that thought sends shivers down your spine.

“No man nor God could tear thee away from me. That is a promise.” 

He leans forward and kisses you. His lips are soft and he pulls you closer to him and his hands are splayed possessively over your face and back. You don’t want to pull away, and you get the feeling he doesn’t want to either.

You are his as he is yours.

[booksandabeer]

Celebrating 10 Years of CA:TWS — A Stucky Rec List

Rec list for the CA:TWS 10th Anniversary Event @catws-anniversary (thank you so much for organizing this event! 💙) | Prompt: Memories

10 years, huh? 10 years of Captain America: The Winter Soldier. 10 years of what many—myself included—still consider to be the best MCU movie ever made.

But also 10 years of post-TWS fanfiction. 10 years of Bucky Barnes Recovering and Steve Rogers' Sadness Errands; of Up All Night to Get Bucky and Revenge Road Trips; of Winter Soldier Trauma Umbrellas and Everybody Needing A Goddamn Hug; of Good Bros and Soft Epilogues. 10 years and tens of thousands of Steve/Bucky fics later, here we are.

So, to mark the occasion, let's take a trip down memory lane and celebrate the movie and the stories it inspired: One fic from each year since it all began:

There's really only one rule here: All fics are set before, during, or after the events of CA:TWS and/or reimagine its plot in interesting ways. Naturally, many of the fics on this list are post-TWS canon divergent, but I tried to go for a nice variety of length, genre, and popularity to keep it interesting. Speaking of popularity, this is very much not intended as a round-up of ‘most popular fics of each year’ because—and I say this with all the love and respect in my heart for those stories and their authors—nobody needs a rec list for that, and I believe in spreading the love. Here we go:

Poltergeists by enemyofrome | 17K, T

Author's summary: When the helicarriers blow up and the Winter Soldier goes on the run, he takes Steve with him. He's got a name written in Morse code on the inside of his arm, a ton of questions he doesn't know how to ask, and now, a new handler with absolutely zero sense of self-preservation to contend with. Life is hard. In which Bucky tries to figure out whether he's a human being, Steve does everything he can to keep from losing him again, and there are lots of explosions.

Starting off with one of the best versions of the 'Bucky didn't leave Steve, he took him with him after the Potomac' fics that were (and still are!) so popular post-TWS. This one stands out because of its fantastic beginning, its interesting take on how Bucky was broken and remade into the Winter Soldier, and because it allows both characters to be messy. It's a popular fanon trope that it's Steve who brings out a ruthless, almost vicious streak in Bucky, but here it's emphasized that this is very much a mutual thing. Just like Bucky, who's often afforded the "excuse" of still figuring out how to be a person again, Steve gets to be difficult here—without ever turning him into a stubborn asshole. They're both traumatized, and they're both allowed to show it and to lash out, including at each other. Also, this fic will give you capital-F Feelings about morse codes and apples. Believe me.

sleepwalk back to the battle site by ftmsteverogers | 22K, T

Author's summary: “I’m going to track down every HYDRA agent that’s left,” Bucky says, buckling his gun deftly to his belt. “And then I’m going to kill them.” “Oh,” Steve says. “Come with me?” Bucky asks, dangerous hands tucked into his pockets.

A classic post-TWS fic that picks up right after the movie ends. Equal parts Revenge Roadtrip, Bucky Barnes recovering, and Steve Rogers being in urgent need of a good hug. This starts out intensely melancholic—Steve's despair and helplessness are palpable and there's a scene involving a drinking glass that still brings tears to my eyes just thinking about it. Halfway through, the story changes pace and becomes much more action-heavy, but it still manages to allow space for the quiet, intimate moments between Steve and Bucky. They have both become sharp and deadly men, but they're also allowed to be soft with each other. Their coming together feels sweet and inevitable. I also really enjoyed the Steve characterization here. His absolute conviction that Bucky is still Bucky at his very core and always will be, but also his emotional and intellectual flexibility to adapt to this still-new-to-him, changed version of Bucky rang very true to me.   

Surveillance by Sproings, 7K in 2 parts, G

Author's summary: If there are ears everywhere, that means it's somebody's job to listen. I hate my job.

Do you ever think about how SHIELD bugged Steves DC apartment and how horrible that was, but also...you're kind of curious what they might have overheard? Do you ever wonder about the people who listened in on his sad, lonely life? Well, here you go. An outsider POV fic told "through the ears" of an unnamed SHIELD agent assigned to spy on the private life of a man who doesn't really have much of one. The story begins just before IM3 and takes us all the way through the events of CA:TWS and beyond. It's clever, original and told with great empathy for both the subject under surveillance and the person carrying out that surveillance—who increasingly questions its purpose. Here's a small snippet to give you an idea of the fic's style:

He got a phone call, once. He put it on speaker, too, which was very exciting for me at the time. It was from an archivist at the Smithsonian. They seemed really surprised that he answered his own phone calls. The two of them talked for a long time about an exhibit the museum was planning. A very long time. As if one of them was starstruck, and the other was desperate for any kind of human interaction.

What Gets You Through by velleities | 12K, M

Author's summary: For Steve, getting through each day is a process – one he’s currently failing at spectacularly. Feeling out of place in this brave new world, he hopes to find a home in Bucky, and looks for him with everything he’s got. But Bucky doesn’t want to be found, and when he does touch base with Steve, he never sticks around for long. Bucky has embraced the modern age, leaving Steve lagging behind – or so Steve believes, until Bucky shows him otherwise.

This post-TWS fic revolves around five encounters in liminal spaces, and each time Bucky has pieced himself back together again just a little more. Despite their increasingly longer and more honest conversations, and Bucky's incremental progress, he always disappears again, leaving Steve to grapple with his heartbreak. There are quietly gorgeous moments in this fic (the bus and the church in particular were my personal favorites) as well as wonderfully crafted characterizations. Bucky is initially portrayed as somewhat feral in some ways yet surprisingly well-adjusted in others, and I love that Steve can't help but be a little annoyed at that. However, it quickly becomes clear that, in good old Bucky Barnes fashion, much of it is really just a front put up for Steve's benefit...

A Real Boy by itsnotbleak | 5K, T

Author's summary: It took the Winter Soldier three weeks to remember that human beings needed to sleep and eat. It took Steve far too long to realise the Winter Soldier was sleeping in his bed.

A wonderful, short-but-doesn't-feel-like-it fic (in the very best way) set immediately after CA:TWS, in which Bucky secretly and then soon not so secretly visits Steve in his apartment. Follow along as Bucky Barnes argues with his brain about sandwich toppings, the importance of a good night's sleep, and the necessity of personal hygiene. Also: how to best go about becoming a real boy (again). And who the hell is that Bucky guy anway? This is as soft and sweet a Bucky recovery fic as you're ever going to find. It's funny but not silly; sad in a way that all of these stories inherently are—because, well, these are some tragic boys—but not super angsty or depressing. A beautiful story with a lovely, hopeful ending.

Savage God by PottersPink | 36K, M

Author's summary (abbr.): Past, present, future, Steve knows Bucky Barnes. It’s why he recognized him when he found him in that alley in April of 1942, even though Bucky was older, stronger, wearier; he called himself The Asset, and had a metal fucking arm. He flinched when Steve tried to touch him, and when Steve told him he loved him, his first response was to ask why. Seventy years later, Steve wakes up in the twenty-first century, and he doesn’t know whether to be heartbroken or hopeful when some of the things Bucky revealed to him in 1942 start falling into place.

An absolutely riveting AU that will have you on the edge of your seat the whole time. I'm itching to talk about it more but I cannot since it would mean spoiling the hell out of it. What I can say is that it's a very intriguing and clever exploration of what would happen if Steve knew about the future but without really knowing any of the details. How would it change the events of CA:TFA and CA:TWS, and how would it change Steve himself? I so very much appreciate this characterization of Steve as smart, competent, and unwavering with a hefty dose of no fucks left to give. This fic features some really nifty time travel and plotting, great action sequences and a very satisfying ending where certain people get their much-deserved comeuppance. Plus: Bonus Shrinkyclinks (kind of)!

Charlie Lock by seapigeon | 105K, M (hard M)

Author's summary (abbr.): The Winter Soldier knows that sometimes, in order to make the kill, you must destroy what the Target lives for. Steve Rogers knows that he can't fight his captors. If he fights, they'll kill Bucky. But the price of his life is steep. Tony Stark has nothing left to live for, but he's needed. So all these miserable motherfuckers better stay alive, too. Clint Barton never expected to be a leader. But a leader he is, and no one else is going to die on his watch. --- A story in which the first wave of Project Insight succeeds, and the Avengers must pick up the pieces and find a way to stop Hydra from completing its work with Zola's algorithm.

This is not only the longest fic on this list, but also the angstiest one—by a mile, so please heed the tags. It's dark, disturbing, and brutal. However, it is neither relentless misery porn nor is it shocking for shock's sake, where everything is magically forgotten and/or healed the moment Steve and Bucky start kissing. Instead, the author puts these characters into an absolutely horrifying situation and then slowly, gently guides them out of it and into the light.

It's a Stucky fic but it's also a multi-POV ensemble piece featuring all the Avengers and other familiar faces. If you are someone who'll always be a little bitter about the unfulfilled promise of an Avengers found family, then this is for you. In this AU, they do not only fight together, but grow together in every way. They truly become a team, not just co-workers barely tolerating each other. The story takes its time exploring the characters and the group dynamics. Steve and Bucky are definitely at the center of the narrative but there is space here for every member of the team to grieve and adjust to the new reality and to find at least some measure of healing. It's a story about the meaning and the consequences of revenge, about hope and resilience, and about love in all its many forms. It also has one of the most satisfying title drops that will have you pump your fist in triumph when it happens. It's a tough read, but ultimately a very rewarding one.

SPELEVINK by Ginny_Potter | 10K, G

Author's summary: Bucky’s back. He’s leaving me messages through IKEA plushies, Steve texts Sam. jesus christ, rogers, Sam texts back. Or, Bucky lives in an IKEA Tiny Apartment, Steve is a dancing monkey once again, and somehow they find their way back to each other.

This is an absolute DELIGHT of a fic that will have you alternately laughing out loud and crying quietly into your SVARTFIBBLA blanket (super-soft, recycled polyester, 47x63"). It's ‘crack treated seriously’ at its very best and a clear homage to the fandom classic Infinite Coffee… (that’s not a dig or a spoiler, the author says so in the author’s note).

Now if you know me, you’ll know that angst o’clock is my happy hour and I’m usually not very into these heavy-on the-humor quasi-absurdist fics (because I’m super special and not like all the other girls, obviously). But. I LOVED this story so, so much. It’s such a fun read—even when it makes you cry—and it really became one of those ‘huh, I guess I’m into this after all’ moments of joyful (self)discovery via fanfic for me. I never thought a pair of oven mitts could move me like that, and I'll never be able to walk into an IKEA again without muttering "F******!" under my breath (iykyk). Absolutely fantastic.

a handful of dust by RecoveringTheSatellites | 20K, M

Author's summary: Steve looks for Bucky for a long time. But the thing is that Bucky doesn't get found, Bucky finds. Bucky always finds Steve. This takes a hard left after the Potomac and stumbles through the dark a lot after. Take a bit of running, the occasional synaptic misfire, the resurfacing of old memories, a dash or two of PTSD, and (eventually) a nice dose of action, stir, and serve over some unresolved issues.

Honestly, the second paragraph up there perfectly sums up the story. It's a good ol' fashioned Bucky recovery fic with some angst, some action, and a whole lot of healing and devotion. Steve and Bucky get to be very sappy about each other, but also extremely Badass Battle Boyfriends™ when somebody threatens their hard-won happiness. Both are allowed to be messy, unstable, and very co-dependent.

This was the first time this author played in the Stucky sandbox and I mean it 100% as a compliment when I say that you can tell. This is someone with "fresh legs" diving headfirst and very deep into the Stucky trope pool and they're doing it with great relish and enthusiam. The result is a story that rejects some of the tried and true conventions of the post-TWS fanfic canon and lovingly embraces others, but that is definitely aware of and in dialogue with the body of work that came before it. Also, it's just a really fun read that gives these two the very soft ending they deserve.

Everybody is Supposed to be Dead by pollutedstar | 22K, M

Author's summary: In 1944, Bucky Barnes falls off a train into the Alps, missing and presumed dead. Months later, Steve Rogers nosedives a plane into the arctic. In 2010, the Winter Soldier project is uncovered by S.H.I.E.L.D., and Bucky Barnes is found alive. Three years later, Steve Rogers’ frozen body is found in the ocean.

A really interesting AU and a fascinating exploration of what could’ve been; the impact it would’ve had on the events and characters if Bucky had been the one to be “found” first. How would it affect Steve to come back into a world where he isn’t quite so lonely and adrift, and where he does have the relief and reassurance of having Bucky by his side and at his back? How would that have changed the way he acted and reacted to this strange new world and the people and organizations trying to recruit him to their cause even though the ice hasn't even completely melted off his body yet?

There are a lot of astute and precise observations about characters like Tony, Natasha, and Clint in this story, and on top of that, it offers up some very compelling insights into Steve's conflicted and difficult relationship with his role as Captain America.

it's never over (hey orpheus) by romcommie | 12K WIP, 2/?, M

Author's summary: He remembers a song first and then everything else follows, burying him below. Or, Bucky Barnes pieces a life back together with a few choice verses, some duct tape and seventy years worth of spite. Steve Rogers tries very hard to relearn there's a life to be lived in the first place.

Ok, listen up, people! This is a WIP and there are only 2 chapters posted so far, but I haven't felt this absolutely bonkers excited about a post-CA:TWS fic in a long while. We're talking frothing at the mouth here. I have such a massive crush on this fic, it's a bit embarrassing, really. It's one of those fics where you know after just a few paragraphs that you're in very good, very competent hands. The wealth of historical and cultural detail; the way the story shifts/flips/flickers back and forth between time, perspective and narrative levels; the Bucky voice—it's all so well done! I'm so insanely excited to see where the author takes this!

ENJOY!

[musicforastylesrestaurant]

His Forever Valentine.

masterlist || ask me anything <3

authors note - happy valentines day you sexy people, mwah !!

word count - 4.3k

in which, you and harry have been each others valentines for what seems like forever, it all started back in 2014, and now, in 2024, your love story is still going strong, so when you look back on memories from over the years, the two of you realise just how far you’ve really come.

February 14th, 2024.

You let out a soft huff.

Last night, you and your husband had taken part in some secret little rendezvous and that had meant that clothes were discarded all over the floor, which you had left until this morning to be cleaned up.

So now, here you were.

As you tidy up the bedroom, picking up clothes strewn across the floor, your foot suddenly collides with something solid.

You glance down and notice a shoebox with "Valentine's Day" scrawled across the lid. Curiosity piqued, you bend down to pick it up, recognizing it as the container for your cherished Polaroid camera and the collection of snapshots you and your husband have taken on Valentine's Days past.

With a gentle tug, you open the lid, revealing a treasure trove of memories captured in instant film. Each photograph tells a story of love, laughter, and shared moments over the years.

You smile as you sift through the images, remembering the joy of each Valentine's Day celebration spent together.

The camera nestled among the Polaroids brings back memories of spontaneous snapshots, impromptu poses, and candid shots captured in the heat of the moment. It's a tangible reminder of the love that has grown and deepened between you and your husband since you first embarked on this journey together.

As you hold the camera in your hands, you're transported back to those special moments frozen in time. From romantic dinners to adventurous outings, each Polaroid is a testament to the bond you share and the memories you've created together.

You can't help but laugh softly as you descend the stairs, the shoebox cradled carefully in your arms. Entering the living room, you find your husband seated, still clad in his workout attire from his early morning gym session.

As you approach him, you place the box gently on his lap, causing him to look up at you with a puzzled expression, a crease forming in his eyebrows as he registers the unexpected gift.

"It was tucked away in the bedroom," you explain, intertwining your fingers with his. "I thought it would be nice to take a trip down memory lane together."

Feeling his warm lips pressing against the top of your head, you lean into his affectionate gesture, savoring the moment of closeness. As he opens up the box and pulls out the first Polaroid, a wave of nostalgia washes over you.

The image captures him back in 2013, a mischievous grin playing on his lips as he holds a rose between his teeth.

You remember that day vividly, as if it were yesterday. It was your first Valentine's Day together, and he had surprised you with a romantic gesture that had left you speechless.

Seeing the Polaroid now, you can't help but smile at the memory of his playful antics and the joy it had brought you.

As he gazes at the photograph, a fond smile tugs at his lips.

"M’remember this," he murmurs, his voice laced with affection. "That was such a fun day."

The memory floods back, enveloping you in a cascade of emotions as you revisit that magical Valentine's Day four months into your relationship with Harry. You can still feel the nervous excitement fluttering in your chest as you try to persuade him to play along with your whimsical idea.

"Come on, H," you urge, your eyes sparkling with mischief as you hold out the single red rose. "It'll be hilarious! You'll look so macho with the rose between your teeth."

Harry's expression is a mixture of amusement and reluctance as he eyes the flower skeptically.

"I don't know, babe," he says, a hint of uncertainty in his voice. "It feels a bit silly."

But you're determined to coax him into indulging your playful whim. Fluttering your eyelashes at him, you pout exaggeratedly, knowing full well the effect it has on him.

"Please, H," you plead, giving him your best puppy-dog eyes. "It'll be our little Valentine's Day joke."

Unable to resist your charms, Harry finally relents with a chuckle, a reluctant smile playing on his lips.

"Alright, fine," he concedes, taking the rose from your hand and tentatively placing it between his teeth. "But if anyone sees us, I'm blaming you."

You can't help but giggle at his mock seriousness, feeling a rush of affection for the man who's willing to go along with your whimsical antics just to see you smile.

/ /

Back in the present moment, Harry reaches for another Polaroid from the box, his fingers delicately tracing the edges of the photograph. As he pulls it out, you feel a surge of anticipation, eager to revisit another cherished memory captured on Valentine's Day.

This time, the image transports you back to 2015, seated in a cozy restaurant with Harry across the table, his hand clasping yours tenderly.

You remember that evening vividly, the soft glow of candlelight casting a warm ambiance as you savored each other's company over a romantic dinner. Harry's gaze, filled with love and adoration, never wavered from yours as you shared laughter, conversation, and stolen glances throughout the night.

As you study the Polaroid, the memory comes flooding back, enveloping you in a cocoon of warmth and affection. It's moments like these, captured in snapshots of time, that remind you of the depth of your connection and the beauty of your love story.

With a soft smile, Harry leans over and presses a gentle kiss to your cheek, his touch a silent affirmation of the love that continues to blossom between you.

As you sit across from Harry in the cozy restaurant, the air thick with anticipation and love, you notice a hint of nervousness flickering in his eyes.

Suddenly, he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small box, causing your heart to skip a beat.

Your eyes widen in surprise as Harry's words hang in the air, his hesitant demeanor only adding to the gravity of the moment.

"I have something for you," he says softly, his voice tinged with a mixture of apprehension and excitement.

With trembling hands, he opens the box, revealing a delicate piece of jewelry with what appears to have a key nestled within. Your breath catches in your throat as you realize the significance of his gesture, your heart pounding with anticipation.

But before you can fully process the contents of the box, Harry clears his throat nervously, his gaze locking with yours.

"I... I have something else to ask you," he begins, his voice slightly shaky. "Would you... would you like to move in with me?"

Tears shimmer in your eyes as you reach for Harry's hand across the table, squeezing it tightly in a silent affirmation of your love and devotion.

"Yes," you whisper, your voice barely above a breath. "Yes, Harry, I would love to move in with you."

/ /

Harry's laughter fills the room once more as he reminisces about that special evening. With a fond smile, he looks up at you, his eyes sparkling with affection.

"That was one of the nicest evenings we've shared together," he muses, his voice tinged with nostalgia.

You nod in agreement, feeling a rush of warmth flood your heart as you recall the joy and love that had enveloped you both on that unforgettable Valentine's Day.

It was a moment of pure bliss, a testament to the strength of your bond and the depth of your connection.

As you gaze at Harry, his laughter echoing in the room, you can't help but marvel at the journey you've embarked on together. Through the ups and downs, the laughter and tears, you've remained by each other's side, growing stronger with each passing day.

Harry reaches for another Polaroid from the box, his fingers brushing against the edges of the photograph with a tender reverence. As he pulls it out, you feel a rush of excitement, knowing that this snapshot holds yet another cherished memory from your shared Valentine's Day celebrations.

This time, the image transports you back to 2017, a year filled with love, laughter, and a furry addition to your family.

You remember the joyous moment vividly, the surprise etched on Harry's face as he laid eyes on the adorable puppy you had carefully chosen for him. It was a breed he had always admired, and seeing his eyes light up with delight was a gift in itself.

In the Polaroid, Harry's face is aglow with happiness as he lets the puppy kiss his cheek, his smile radiant and infectious. The bond between them is palpable, a testament to the love and companionship that would come to define their relationship over the years.

As Harry sat on the couch, oblivious to the surprise in store, you couldn't help but feel a flutter of nerves in your stomach. Taking a deep breath to steady your nerves, you walked into the room, a mischievous grin playing on your lips as you held the squirming puppy in your arms.

"Hey, babe," you greeted Harry with a smile, trying to mask your excitement. "I have something for you."

Harry looked up from his book, curiosity flickering in his eyes as he watched you approach.

"What's that?" he asked, his brow furrowing slightly in confusion.

With a dramatic flourish, you revealed the wriggling bundle of fur in your arms, watching as Harry's eyes widened in surprise.

"Happy Valentine's Day!" you exclaimed, unable to contain your excitement any longer.

Harry's expression shifted from confusion to sheer delight as he took in the sight of the puppy, its tail wagging furiously as it sniffed the air in excitement.

"No way!" he exclaimed, his face breaking into a wide grin. "S’this for me?"

You nodded eagerly, your heart swelling with happiness at his reaction.

"Yes, it's for you," you confirmed, gently placing the puppy in his arms. "I know how much you've always wanted a dog, so I thought it was time we added a furry friend to our family."

Tears welled up in Harry's eyes as he held the puppy close, his heart overflowing with gratitude and love.

"I can't believe you did this," he whispered, his voice choked with emotion. "This is the best Valentine's Day gift ever."

As you watched the scene unfold before you, the room filled with laughter and the sound of happy barks, you knew that this moment would be etched in your memory forever. It was a testament to the power of love and the joy of sharing life's precious moments with the ones you hold dear.

/ /

Harry's fingers gently stroke the fur of the large, but still beloved, dog nestled next to him. Pancake, now fully grown but forever a puppy at heart, looks up at Harry with adoring eyes, a silent reminder of the bond they share.

With a nostalgic smile, Harry recalls the early days when Pancake was just a tiny ball of fur, bounding around the house with endless energy and mischief.

"Remember when he was small enough to fit in the palm of my hand?" Harry muses, his voice tinged with fondness.

You nod, your own heart swelling with affection as you watch the pair interact.

"Those were some unforgettable times," you agree, your voice soft with reminiscence. "He's grown so much since then, but he'll always be our little Pancake."

With a sense of anticipation, Harry reaches for another Polaroid from the box, his movements deliberate as he carefully selects the next snapshot to relive. As he pulls it out, your breath catches in your throat, anticipation building as you recognize the significance of the photograph.

This time, the image transports you back to a breathtaking sunset in Italy, a moment forever etched in your memory as the day Harry asked you to be his forever.

In the Polaroid, the radiant glow of the Italian sunset provides the perfect backdrop to the centerpiece of the image: your sparkling engagement ring, glimmering in the fading light. Memories flood back as you recall the magic of that evening, the air thick with anticipation as Harry led you to the terrace of your shared villa.

The setting sun cast a golden hue over the landscape, painting the sky in shades of orange and pink as you stood hand in hand with Harry, the world seemingly frozen in time. With trembling hands and a heart full of love, Harry dropped to one knee, his eyes shining with emotion as he poured his heart out to you in a heartfelt proposal.

The air is alive with the scent of Mediterranean flowers and the soft murmur of the evening breeze. Harry's hand clasps yours tightly, his gaze fixed on yours with unwavering intensity as he leads you to the edge of the terrace, where the sun dips below the horizon in a fiery display of color.

"Close your eyes," Harry whispers, his voice tinged with excitement as he guides you to a spot overlooking the rolling hills and the sparkling sea below. You comply, a smile playing on your lips as you anticipate the surprise Harry has in store.

A moment later, you feel his warm breath against your ear as he murmurs softly, "Okay, now open them."

As you open your eyes, the breathtaking sight before you takes your breath away. The sky is ablaze with hues of orange and pink, casting a warm glow over the landscape as the sun sets in a magnificent display of natural beauty. Candlelit lanterns twinkle along the terrace, creating a romantic ambiance that sets your heart aflutter.

"It's beautiful," you breathe, turning to Harry with a look of wonder on your face.

Harry smiles, his eyes twinkling with mischief as he takes your hand in his leading you further onto the terrace until you're bathed in the soft, golden light of the setting sun.

And then, with a suddenness that catches you off guard, Harry drops to one knee, his hand reaching into his pocket as he pulls out a small velvet box. Your heart leaps into your throat as you realize what's happening, your breath catching as Harry's eyes meet yours, filled with love and determination.

"From the moment I met you, I knew you were the one," Harry begins, his voice steady but filled with emotion. "You've brought so much joy and love into my life, and I can't imagine spending another day without you by my side."

As he speaks, Harry opens the box to reveal the dazzling engagement ring nestled within, its sparkle reflecting the light of the setting sun.

"Will you marry me?" he asks, his voice soft but resolute, his eyes never leaving yours as he waits for your answer.

/ /

Harry's voice breaks through your reverie, his words a tender reminder of the significance of that day.

"I still can't believe you said yes," he murmurs, his eyes reflecting the love and wonder he felt in that moment.

You reach for Harry's hand, squeezing it gently as you relive the joy and excitement of your engagement.

"It was the easiest 'yes' I've ever said," you reply, your voice filled with warmth and affection.

Harry reaches for another Polaroid from the box, his fingers tracing the edges of the photograph with a gentle reverence. As he pulls it out, his breath catches in his throat, a small gasp escaping his lips as he realizes the significance of the snapshot.

In the Polaroid, you and Harry stand side by side, radiant in your wedding attire, surrounded by the lush greenery of the church garden. The joy and love that radiate from the photograph are palpable, a testament to the happiness you both felt in that momentous occasion.

Harry's eyes linger on the image, a soft smile playing on his lips as he recalls the whirlwind of emotions that swept over him on your wedding day. It was a day filled with love, laughter, and promises of forever, a day you had both chosen to celebrate your love on Valentine's Day, the most romantic day of the year.

Little did you know at the time that Harry's best friend, Niall, had snapped the photograph, capturing the tender moment without either of you realizing it.

"M’can't believe it," Harry murmured, his voice filled with wonder as he gazed into your eyes, his own sparkling with love and adoration. "We're finally husband and wife."

You couldn't help but smile, feeling a rush of happiness wash over you as you took in the sight of your new husband, his face illuminated by the soft glow of the setting sun.

"I know," you replied, your voice tinged with excitement. "It still feels like a dream."

As you walked hand in hand through the garden, the world seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of you in a cocoon of love and happiness. Each step felt like a dance, a celebration of your newfound union and the beginning of your shared journey as husband and wife.

"I love you," Harry whispered, his words a tender declaration of his devotion as he pulled you closer into his embrace. "I've never been happier than I am in this moment, with you by my side."

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as you leaned into Harry's chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart against yours.

"I love you too," you whispered back, your voice filled with emotion. "More than words can say."

/ /

With a tender smile, Harry reaches for another Polaroid from the box, his fingers tracing the edges of the photograph with a sense of reverence. As he pulls it out, he holds it close to his chest, his eyes shining with emotion as he gazes at the image. This, he declares, is one of his favorites so far.

In the Polaroid, Harry is fast asleep, his features softened in slumber as he lies peacefully in bed, unaware of the momentous news about to unfold. In the foreground, a pregnancy test rests on the bedside table, its result displayed prominently for the camera to capture.

You remember the moment vividly, the mix of nerves and excitement coursing through your veins as you prepared to share the life-changing news with Harry. With a trembling hand, you had set up the camera, carefully framing the shot to include both Harry and the pregnancy test, capturing the raw emotion of the moment for posterity.

You and Harry sat side by side under a blanket of stars, the soft glow of moonlight casting a romantic ambiance over the scene. With the night sky twinkling above you, you knew it was the perfect moment to share the life-changing news you had been keeping a secret.

Taking a deep breath to steady your nerves, you turned to Harry, your heart pounding in your chest as you mustered the courage to speak.

"Harry, there's something I need to tell you," you began, your voice barely above a whisper.

Harry turned to you, his eyes shining with curiosity and affection.

"What is it, love?" he asked, his hand reaching out to gently caress yours.

With a nervous flutter in your stomach, you took a deep breath before blurting out the words you had been rehearsing in your mind.

"I'm pregnant," you confessed, your voice trembling with emotion.

At first, Harry's expression registered disbelief, his eyes widening in shock as he processed your words.

"Really?" he exclaimed, his voice filled with a mixture of surprise and disbelief.

You nodded, a small smile playing on your lips as you reached into your pocket to retrieve the pregnancy test. Holding it out to Harry, you watched as his eyes flickered from the test to your face and back again, the realization slowly sinking in.

Tears welled up in Harry's eyes as he took the test from you, his hands trembling slightly as he examined the result. And then, as the truth of the moment washed over him, he broke into tears, his emotions overflowing as he pulled you into a tight embrace.

"M’going to be a daddy," he whispered, his voice choked with emotion as he pressed a kiss to your forehead. "I can't believe it."

/ /

As Harry studies the photograph, a myriad of emotions flicker across his face, from surprise to joy to overwhelming love.

"I remember this," he murmurs, his voice soft with emotion. "I had no idea what was coming."

You reach out to grasp his hand, squeezing it gently as you relive the anticipation and excitement of that unforgettable moment.

"It was one of the happiest moments of my life," you confess, your heart swelling with love for the man beside you.

With a tender smile, Harry leans in to press a kiss to your forehead, his arms wrapping around you in a comforting embrace.

"And it was the beginning of the greatest adventure of our lives," he whispers, his voice filled with love and gratitude.

And just like that your almost two year old made his presence known.

As Sebastian toddles into the room, his chubby cheeks flushed with excitement from his playtime adventures in the toy room, a delighted squeal escapes his lips at the sight of his father. With a burst of energy, he throws himself onto Harry's lap, his tiny arms wrapping around his father's neck as he snuggles in close.

Harry chuckles warmly at Sebastian's exuberance, his heart swelling with love as he wraps his arms around his son in a tight embrace.

"Hey there, little buddy," he greets, his voice filled with affection as he ruffles Sebastian's curly hair, the same curls that match his own.

Sebastian giggles gleefully, his eyes sparkling with joy as he gazes up at his father. His attention is quickly drawn to the cross necklace dangling around Harry's neck, the delicate chain catching the light as it sways gently with his movements.

"Dada," Sebastian babbles, reaching out to touch the necklace with chubby fingers, his curiosity piqued by the shiny object.

Harry smiles down at his son, his heart swelling with pride at the sight of Sebastian's innocent fascination.

Sebastian's eyes widen with wonder as he continues to examine the necklace, his tiny fingers tracing the outline of the cross with gentle fascination.

"Pretty," he murmurs, his voice filled with awe.

Harry nods, a fond smile playing on his lips as he gazes down at his son.

"Yes, it is," he agrees, his heart overflowing with love for the precious little boy nestled in his arms.

As Sebastian sits in Harry's lap, giggling and playing with his father's necklace, you feel a pang of bittersweet nostalgia wash over you. Your little boy is growing up before your eyes, each day bringing new discoveries and adventures. You can't help but marvel at how quickly time seems to be slipping through your fingers.

Determined to capture this precious moment, you reach for the Polaroid camera resting on the nearby table. With a sense of urgency, you snap a photo of Harry and Sebastian, their smiles bright and their bond palpable. The sound of the camera's shutter clicking fills the room, freezing the moment in time for eternity.

As the photo develops before your eyes, you can't help but feel a swell of gratitude wash over you. This, you realize, is what life is all about—cherishing the fleeting moments of joy and love that make it all worthwhile.

With a gentle smile playing on your lips, you reach for the pen that lays on the coffee table, its sleek design catching the light as you pick it up. Gripping it firmly in your hand, you carefully write a special little message on the underneath of the Polaroid, a message of love and gratitude that you know will warm Harry's heart when he discovers it.

Once the message is complete, you place the Polaroid neatly back in the box, its presence a tangible reminder of the love and memories you've shared together on Valentine's Day. With a sense of satisfaction, you close the lid, knowing that this small gesture will hold a special place in Harry's heart for years to come.

Turning to Harry, who sits beside you with Sebastian in his lap, you snuggle into his warm embrace, reveling in the comfort and love that surrounds you.

"I love you," you whisper, your voice filled with emotion as you press a kiss to his cheek.

Harry's arms tighten around you, pulling you close as he murmurs softly,

"I love you both so much." His words are a tender declaration of his love, a reminder of the bond that binds you together as a family.

With another Polaroid security added to the box, your reloaded just how much you can’t wait to add even more photos as the years progress.

[taintedcigs]

GETAWAY CAR — rockstar!e.m. x f!reader

CHAPTER THREE: I’LL SWIM DOWN, WOULD YOU?

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✦ summary: in which eddie takes you for a trip down memory lane. (wc: 6.7k+)

✦ warnings — ANGSTANGSTANGST, fluff!, pining and slowburn, strong language!, mentions of alc*hol and drg use and a toxic/ab*sive relationship, reader is sad but also mad </3, mention of bruises from an ab*sive relationship (in the past)

✦ pairings — rockstar!eddie munson x fem!reader, past billy hargrove x fem!reader

✦ authors note — im so glad you guys are liking this series !! feel free to chat with me in the asks and sorry for the cliffhanger >:( also not proof-read pls ignore mistakes!! and sorry for the twisted sister slander eddie said it not me!

series masterlist | series playlist

It was late, really fucking late. Something you missed noticing while you were taking your supposed one hour sobbing nap. 

Your gaze gravitated toward the window, fingers fluttering to adjust the comfortable, frilly black dress you had casually slipped into moments earlier. But now, it made you feel stupid, like you were trying too hard, your mind was telling you that no matter which pretty dress you chose, he’d never want you. 

He wanted her now.

Your attention diverted toward the glove compartment, fighting the urge to yank it open, wishing those The Cure tapes could fall on your lap now. 

The uncomfortable silence between the two of you was starting to sink in now, accompanied by the Beastie Boys blasting through Eddie’s speakers. And you knew he was doing it on purpose because he knew you couldn’t resist, automatically making you hum along to it while he tapped his fingers rhythmically on the steering wheel, the two of you perfectly in sync with the beat, and it shouldn’t bring such a silly smile to your face, but it does. 

“So, uh…” He started off, eyes still on the road, he couldn’t afford to look at you, you looked breathtakingly pretty; the soft glow of the dashboard light highlighted your features, and with that goddamn black dress on you, Eddie was sure he was fully enamored by you.

“I’m–I’m sorry about the whole Chrissy thing,” He muttered, gaze avoiding yours. “It just kind of happened, but–she changed, she really changed.” 

“She–she told me how sorry she was about the whole Billy thing,” You gulped physically at the name, biting your lips nervously.

It didn’t fucking matter how sorry she was now, Chrissy was supposed to be your friend. You already had a hard time trusting people but you gave Chrissy that chance, you opened your heart to her, and you let her in, but she decided to stomp on it and chewed your trust in the cruelest way possible.

“I would’ve never talked to her if she hadn’t.” He avoided your gaze again.

“Cool… and you gathered that in what? A week?” You muttered angrily. 

Eddie fell silent at that, he didn’t know what to say next, he knew he was in the wrong, and he was desperate to fix it now.

“No, no I– just,” he sighed. “I don’t want to talk about this, Eddie,” you snapped, head turning towards the view of the window, lips pressed into a thin, bloodless line in an attempt to hold the words you wanted to say. 

You’re jealous—so incredibly jealous that it seeps through your skin. You wonder if he can tell, if he can see through you like he always did. 

“We’re not together,” He muttered embarrassedly. Chrissy seemed nice, but Eddie knew that she wasn’t you. Sure, Chrissy was pretty, but her face couldn’t make the gloomiest person in the world grin like yours did. And she was funny, but she could never make him nearly choke on his drink the way you always did. And he knew she could never, ever make him feel in a way you did. 

He was acutely aware of how awful that sounded, but he wasn’t trying to use her in any way; he was just trying to move on, but with you here, it was fucking impossible. You would always be his priority. No matter what happened between the two of you, if you even so much as glanced his way, he'd drop everything and come running. And that’s what scared him, that’s what made him act so unlike him toward you today because it was terrifying how much he truly wanted you.

You glared at him now, a second warning to shut him up, and he was quick to press his lips tight together. 

He huffed. “Look, how about we just… start over?” You finally plucked up the courage to face him again. With the warm breeze of summer nights in Hawkins having its full effect as it rustled through the open car windows, you could see his hopeful eyes.  

“Let’s just put it all behind us, you know… wipe the slate clean.” Your interest peaked with that; both of you had fucked up already, and if there was any way to survive the next five days with him and not be a burden to both Jonathan and Nancy, this was the perfect solution.

“Because I really don’t want us to have this weirdness over this whole wedding weekend- uhh… five day thing.” Shit. Was he actually reading your mind?

“Me neither.” You agreed in a mumble.

“Yeah?” Eddie asked with that pretty grin stuck on his lips. God, it was infectious, and his hopeful question fluttered your heart, you could feel yourself soften. Maybe this could work.

“So, uh- can we be… civil?” His voice was wavering, visibly nervous. 

You could put the whole Chrissy thing behind you for now, couldn’t you? At least until your next inevitable encounter with her. Maybe that was selfish, but you wanted to spend time with him; you wanted him all for yourself, just for a few hours, without any third person meddling their way in, so you nodded furiously. 

“Friends?” He offered, his hand extending to shake yours.

And even though that word fucking hurt, that’s all you could afford with him, too. You didn’t want to reopen the old wounds, at least not yet, and you were more than ready to settle for being friends with him for now. If it meant you could talk to him or be near him, you would do anything.

“Friends.” You agreed, hand harshly shaking his as you squinted your eyes jokingly. 

“They talked some sense into you, didn’t they?” You squinted.

“Nancy?” You asked with a slight smirk.

“Dustin and Jonathan, actually.”

“Dustin told me I was in the wrong with the whole Chrissy thing,” Eddie muttered as he stole a glance at you before he focused on the road again.  You fought hard to shrug off the smug smile on your lips; just the image of both Dustin and Jonathan telling Eddie off filled you with glee. “I swear that little shit is more mature than any of us.” You added.

“Don’t I know it?” He breathed, making you giggle. 

“So, where exactly are we headed to? Because I’m tired of seeing trees everywhere, and I’m starting to think you’re going to kidnap me.” You muttered with a narrowed gaze, attempting to ease the tension.

“You can’t tell?” He huffed, a little smile tugging at his lips at your joke. 

“Nuh-uh.” 

“You’re getting rusty, sweetheart.” You scoffed at that, eyeing the road quickly so you could tell him off. 

Once he passed by Mirkwood, you knew exactly where he was headed. A squeal escaped your lips childishly. “Oh my god!” 

The community pool. 

The two of you had snuck in at least a hundred times before. Even Chief Hopper had gotten tired of dragging both of your drunk asses off the pool. 

He couldn’t help the way his lips fully etched into a grin now, he had missed that genuine smile on your face and that childish squeal. 

“Eddie!” You squealed again when he finally neared, mouth stood agape. 

“Are we going in?” You asked excitedly. It was boggling your mind how quickly he melted your defenses. 

Before letting him nod, you spoke up again. “Ahh, shit! If I had known, I’d put on a bathing suit,” you huffed, causing Eddie to snort lightly. 

Your eyes drifted toward his features now; he looked… so happy, and that goddamn grin on his lips—why did he have to be so pretty? 

“What?” You muttered, feeling almost shy under his gaze now. 

He used to look at you like that a lot, like you meant something to him, like you were the most important thing in his life. And it felt so good to have that back, to see those deep brown eyes glimmer again.

There was another deep pause, as if he were debating whether or not he should let you know how much it truly meant that you were here. How much he had missed you. How much he missed that graceful curve of your lips as it stretched to a sugary smile, missed the way your eyes sparkled childishly when something excited you. 

“Nothing… uh- I just... I’m glad that-uhh you’re back,” he muttered, shaking his head, a strand of curly hair falling on his forehead.

He wanted nothing more than to feel just a graze of your touch, he had wanted to wrap his arms around your frame the whole day; he wanted you to sweep his curls off his forehead as you threw him a giggle, that angelic sound filling the space. 

And oh, how he missed your presence. He missed the way you filled the space around him, filling him with warmth and making him feel alive. But his thoughts remained unspoken; instead, he settled for a simple, “I missed you.” 

He held your gaze, tracing the contours of your face and memorizing every feature; he wanted each and every part of you etched into his brain, just because he didn’t know if you would leave again; he couldn’t handle forgetting your features, not again.

“I missed you, too,” you murmured, voice low when you could barely let the words out. There was a softness in his gaze, a vulnerability he only showed through it, and you returned it.

That impalpable silence was interrupted as he shook his head. “Let’s go, before you start getting in your head about getting in the pool with your clothes,” he teased, parking the car before he rushed off to your side. 

“M’lady,” He bowed dramatically when he opened the door for you, extending his hand, you took it with a giggle. “Such a gentleman!” You exclaimed, hands shaky when his grazed against yours. 

If Nancy and Jonathan could see the two of you now, their heads would probably explode, considering how both of you had been fluctuating between hot and cold the entire day.

“How are we even gonna get in?” You asked with a shrug, trying to keep up with him. 

He looked at you like he took offense to your question. “The old way, duh.” He shrugged carelessly, before he led the way. 

As you approached the silver metal fence, your heart skipped a beat, it had been so long since you had last done this, and when it loomed before you now, you had to physically gulp. “You scared or somethin’?” Eddie whispered in your ear with a sly grin, making you slightly jump. “N-no,” You muttered. 

"Then, do you wanna do the honors, sweetheart?” He asked with a wink, a mischievous glint sparkling in his eyes. With a deep inhale you nodded, placing your hands on the cold, textured metal of the fence. Once you fully braced yourself, Eddie hoisted you with a strong push, you probably would’ve been more anxious if you weren’t distracted by the fact that Eddie’s calloused hands were grazing against your waist. 

You cursed at the loss of touch when you made it to the top, and with a disappointed sigh, you swung your leg over the fence, carefully climbing down to the other side. 

You watched him almost jump over it with no hesitation, and now you were concerned with how much this had turned you on. Shit, shit, shit. Why did he have to be so fucking attractive in everything he did?

“Jesus Christ, you’d think they would’ve made this more secure by now,” you muttered with a giggle in an attempt to shut up your dirty thoughts about him, hands stretching out to dust your dress off before you followed him toward the pool. 

The poolside area was the first thing that caught your attention. Maybe it was the stupid deja-vu but you couldn’t help but be intrigued by everything. The pool lights created a cool ambiance that was kissed by the moonlight cascading on them. Each ripple of the water’s surface carried around the awful scent of sunscreen and chlorine; each sight of this goddamn place took you down memory lane. 

“You want one?” Eddie’s voice caught your attention when he plopped into an empty lounge chair, his hand fishing out a poorly rolled joint—which was probably just squished from being in his pocket all day.  

You nodded, mind still spiraling from the fact that you were here, with him. “Our spot, remember?” He muttered, hand signaling toward his side so you could sit down next to him. 

You hummed in agreement, before you shyly sat down next to him. “Here, let me.” You muttered, pulling the dragon lighter from the pocket of your jacket. 

His eyes almost widened again at the sight of that lighter, a tense silence overtook the space while you helped him light the joint sitting on his lips. “Uhh, t-thanks,” He muttered awkwardly. 

The two of you basked in that uncomfortable silence before Eddie finally turned toward you. “Is it just me or does this feel fuckin’ awkward again?” He took another long drag from the joint, breathing out before he turned to pass it to you, a nervous look crossing his features. 

And it makes you feel comfortable, that nervous breath you were holding in for so long finally slips out. “Thank god, because I thought I was goin’ crazy,” You murmured, happily accepting the joint as you placed it on your lips. 

“I-I just… I know a lot of shit happened between us, and I know we can’t fully pretend it never happened, but, this… this feels so nice.” You admit, gaze avoiding him. 

“It’s like, we used to have so much fun, we could do all this crazy shit and not give a single fuck. Do you even remember how many times Hopper escorted us out of here?” You asked with a slight smirk.

Eddie bit back on his tongue, he wanted to tell you that it was your fault. Wanted to remind you that the two of you could have been having fun all this time if you hadn’t just left him like that. 

But a clean slate is what he promised you, even though it was so fucking hard not to be bitter when he knew how much it hurt, because you had no clue how much you leaving him did a number on him. He had to pick on his own wounds, just so he wouldn’t reopen yours, just so you would talk to him again. 

He shook his head with a slight chuckle. “He really hated us, didn’t he?” 

“Oh, totally,” You muttered, head falling more toward his direction with a giggle. “Do you remember that time he chased us around here?” You almost gasped at the memory. 

“Shit!” He joined in on your laughter; his eyes met yours, and for a moment, time seemed to stand still. “How could I fucking forget?” He coughed out the drag he was holding in. 

"His stupid hat fell in the water," He recalled with a mischievous glint in his eyes, you giggled again leaning in closer, shoulders brushed against his, and both of your chuckles intertwined now. Once you finally caught your breath, you spoke up again "and he tried to get it. And then, oh my god..." You paused for dramatic effect, biting your lip to hold back more laughter.

"He slipped," he continued, with another chuckle, "face first into the pool!" Your laughter erupted louder as the memory replayed in your minds. And it felt so nice to have that genuine bond again. It gave you this sort of hope that whatever the two of you had, maybe it could withstand you leaving him; maybe it could withstand Chrissy, and the time and distance spent apart. 

And you so wanted to believe it, because this had genuinely been the happiest the two of you had ever been in the last five years.

Once both of your laughter died off, you took a deep breath, hand reaching out for the joint as you tapped on his fingers to pass it to you. You sucked on it until it numbed your mind, causing you to break the comfortable silence with your train of thought. “I still can’t believe they are getting married,” You breathed.

“Hmmm?” Eddie responded carelessly.

"I mean, I know they're literally like soulmates," you continued, "and I always knew they'd eventually get married. But isn't it too soon? Aren't we still too young for all of this?"

Eddie turned his gaze toward you, looking at you with his brows pinched together. "Why wait?" He asked, curiosity took over his features as he studied your face.

“If you have met the ‘love of your life’ and all that bullshit, and you knew you’d want to spend the rest of your life with them…” You shifted your position, propping yourself up on one elbow to look at him more closely. “Wouldn’t you want to do that as soon as possible?” 

You considered his words for a moment before you spoke. “But how could anyone be… sure?” A hint of uncertainty was wavering in your tone. 

“What if they wake up one day and decide they're not in love anymore? Or they suddenly want completely different things in life? Or, oh god, what if they betray each other?"

His brows pinched together. “Oh, Pinky…” He shook his head.

“What?” You asked, your voice laced with curiosity.

“You still do that?” Eddie asked disapprovingly.

“Do what?” You retorted, sounding slightly defensive.

“You don’t trust anyone or anything, just so you don't get hurt,” he muttered.

“You nitpick every single part of something good... always trying to sabotage it because you’d rather ruin it than lose it,” Eddie explained with a concerned look on his face, and you hated it. You hated that he knew you so well, that he knew you by heart.  

“I do not do that!” You protested.

“Are you actually gonna tell me you never did that?” He gently prodded, tilting his head slightly as he regarded you with an all-knowing look.

You hesitated, your defenses crumbling just a bit. “Okay, maybe like one time, Munson,” you admitted with a reluctant squint of your eyes.

“You’re so afraid of losing something you love that you refuse to love anything,” He muttered, not realizing his concern had hit a nerve.

“But it doesn’t work like that. Love is not supposed to be that complicated.” He continued with a whisper, your gaze drifting away as you fiddled with your fingers, because he was right. 

“Why do you assume being loved by someone would ever be so hard?” Eddie realized he had truly hit a nerve and immediately regretted it. He could see the pain flash in your eyes—that familiar hurt you carried with you. You shook it off—a defense mechanism you had perfected over the years.

You found it too difficult to believe that someone could ever truly love you. And he knew that; he hated that he couldn’t tell you how much he loved every fucking part of you and how much he loved you for being you. You didn’t need to try for him; you didn’t need to do anything. You could just exist, and he’d still love you. But he couldn’t tell you that, not when you had left him. 

And he knew he couldn’t apologize for his words because you’d just brush it off, you’d just close off on him more and more, and he didn’t want to ruin this in any way. 

Desperate to shift the mood, Eddie changed the subject, opting for a game of questions just so he could distract you. By the time the two of you had started passing around the second joint and had gotten over thousands of questions, you were seated near the pool now, knees grazing each other as your feet dangled into the water.

With a mischievous glint in your eye, you initiated the next question, “Favorite color?” You asked with a soft giggle.

Eddie responded with a playful tilt of his head, "That has to be the lamest question, ever," he quipped.

You gasped animatedly, pretending to be offended by his comment. "Oh, really?"

"Well then, Munson, do you have a better one up your sleeve?" Your eyes squinted in a playful challenge.

Eddie, puffed out his cheeks as he wrestled with his thoughts to come up with a question. After a moment, a mischievous glint sparkled in his eyes. “I’ve got one,” He muttered playfully.  

 “Saddest song you’ve ever heard?” Eddie inquired.

You let out a groan of mock exasperation, your shoulders slumping dramatically. "Oh, come on! How am I supposed to answer that?"

Eddie leaned back casually on his elbows. "Well, I already have mine," he shrugged.

“Really?” You huffed, “I need like an hour,” You muttered, causing Eddie to give you a look.

“Okay, fine, fine!” You sighed audibly, racking your brain.

“Oh, oh!” You shot up quickly, splashing your feet in the water, when you finally thought of something, “can I name two?” Eddie raised an eyebrow in curiosity. "Two? Now you've got my attention, princess." He winked teasingly.

You leaned back on your elbows. "Uhhh… Here Comes a Regular or… Wango Tango."

Eddie couldn't help but snort at the unexpected combination. "What?" he chuckled. “I can understand Here Comes a Regular, but Wango Tango? Really?” He gave you that puzzled look again. 

“Okay, okay, before you judge!” You squinted your eyes. “Hear me out, because it has a story.” You said. 

“I don’t know if I should tell you this,” you admitted, noticing Eddie's raised eyebrows and intensified curiosity.

“What? Why?” He questioned. “Because I never told you about this before, and I feel like it’s just gonna drag our mood down,” you murmured, biting your lip nervously, as Eddie’s eagerness peaked further.

“Are you kidding? You absolutely have to tell me now!” Eddie demanded softly.  

“I mean, are you sure? It’s just a stupid story, and I don’t even know if it matters now—” You began to waver, failing to notice the intensity of Eddie's interest.

“Pinky, please.” He interrupted with a tilt of his head, his voice filled with an urgency to know. You nodded hesitantly.

"So, uhh, you remember how he used to uhh- drove me and Max to school every week?" He nodded, his muscles tensing as he understood who you were referring to. “I think it was another tough week for him, and we had already been fighting a lot," you began, tone laced with a hint of exasperation.

"I think that’s why he was on the edge again, like he was ready to explode at any moment," you continued, gaze avoiding him and fixed on the shimmering water of the pool.  "W-we were in the car, and you- you were driving like two cars in front of us.” Your eyes squinted as you recalled the details animatedly, and Eddie listened curiously, his gaze fixed on you with a mixture of emotions.

“I think that like ticked him off or somethin’.” You shrugged, your voice wavering. “He started going on and on about you and he was already mad about us hanging out too much,” you stuttered and Eddie's jaw clenched as he listened, his eyes flashing with anger on your behalf.

“He threw me a look that I knew was nothing but trouble," you huffed with an ironic chuckle, but Eddie's expression remained stern, and you were starting to realize how dumb of a decision telling this story was, but it was too late now. 

“So then he, uhh- he started laughing all weirdly and following you, and I could just feel my blood boil, you know?” You went on, your eyes narrowing at the memory.

"I was telling him to stop, uhh, repeatedly, but he just… he just ignored me and sang that stupid song, tapping along to the rhythm.” Your lips curled with disgust at the thought.

“And oh god, Max just sunk into her seat, and that just made me go absolutely insane, Eddie!” 

“He was getting so close to you, like so close. And I-I knew you had no clue because I knew how loud you liked listening to your music in Aurora,” you muttered with a chuckle, attempting to lighten the mood, but Eddie didn’t focus on your joke; he could feel his insides burning with that familiar rage and the need to protect you.

“I don’t- I don’t even know what came over me, and I-I just drove the car off the road." You breathed. “And I know that’s… that’s horrible because Max was there too but I had no other idea and I was scared,” you admitted, biting your lips to hold all of your emotions inside of you as you took a deep breath.

“And I wanted to keep you safe,” you murmured, and Eddie’s heart almost stopped at that. The guilt of you being hurt because of him weighed in on him now. And he wanted nothing more than to go back in time and beat the shit out of that douchebag, again.  

“And I just remember that look on Max’s face… that pure terror, and while all of that was happening… fucking Wango Tango was playing.” You couldn’t help the exasperated chuckle that left your lips. 

You finally looked up at Eddie again, realizing how much you had unloaded on him. "What?" he asked, dumbfounded.

“H-he did what?” He stuttered in fury; you could see it in the way he scrunched his brows together.  

“Shit… I don’t know what I was thinking; I really shouldn’t have told you this when we were having a good time-” You shook your head, sighing. “I just… right before I left Nancy’s, I-I saw that Camaro and that song has been stuck in my mind and it’s the first thing I could think of." You rambled quickly; you had never opened up this much about Billy before, and you were starting to regret it because you didn’t want him to pity you. 

“God, I must sound so annoying but I swear I’m not saying any of this to make you pity me or anything-”

“No, no, that’s not it.” He interrupted with a shake of his head. “I would never think that, are you kidding?” His hand sat on your knee for reassurance.

“No… no, I just wish... Why didn’t you just tell me?” He spoke to you in a gentle tone, but you could see his jaw clench. 

“I-I don’t know, I was scared, Eddie, and I didn’t want to drag you into my bullshit,” You murmured, gulping when you looked down at his fingertips gently caressing your skin. Your emotions were all over the place, his one touch just calmed you down, all of your worries vanishing in mere seconds. 

“Are you kidding?” He asked softly. “I-If I had known, I would’ve done something a lot sooner, Pinky, I used to think he was just a shitty boyfriend, If I had known how he was-I swear, I swear, I would’ve never let him hurt you.” His voice was desperate as he leaned in closer, gaze never leaving yours. 

“I should’ve fuckin’ known,” he mumbled under his breath, he wanted to punch himself for not seeing it quicker, not seeing him sucking the light out of you, the way you flinched around him, and, oh god, the random bruises. 

He was stupid. So fucking stupid. 

“Don’t say that!” You protested. “I was the one who kept it a secret, it’s not your fault, in any way,” you muttered, your thigh grazing against his.

“Eddie, you quite literally saved me,” you whispered, a graceful smile adorning your lips.

His eyes drifted toward you again, gaze locking with yours.

“Look, I don’t give a shit what happens between us, you can always, always tell me anything, okay? Any fucking thing.” Eddie reassured, with a soft tone.

You nodded, the smile that formed on your face was genuine, you really appreciated each of his words. Whatever happened between the two of you didn’t matter—Chrissy, you leaving him in LA, the fight at Nancy's—none of it fucking mattered. Eddie was still here for you, and you were going to do everything you could to make sure you wouldn’t lose him ever again. 

"Anything?" you asked, seeking confirmation. Eddie didn't hesitate. He nodded in affirmation, his gaze soft and unwavering. "Anything."

“Oh, good! Because I’ve been dying to let you know how much of a dork you look like in your own band’s shirt,” you said with a slight smirk playing on your face.  

Eddie raised his brows gleefully, and a grin overtook his features once again. "Oh, I'm so getting you for that one," he muttered, his fingers quick to graze against your sides. Once you realized what he was up to, you tried to get away, but it was too late. 

He started tickling you relentlessly while you squirmed and wriggled under his touch, trying to catch your breath between giggles. 

"Okay, wait—stop, stop!" You managed to speak, your voice coming out in gasps as you pleaded for a momentary break. Eddie finally relented, his fingers retreating as you caught your breath.

"You still haven't told me yours!" you exclaimed between your chuckles, trying to catch your breath and eager to distract him from tickling you again.

“Ahh shit,” he muttered with a chuckle. “Now I really don’t want to tell you mine, because it’s gonna sound so petty and childish.”

“Nuh-uh!” You protested. “You absolutely have to after all the shit I told you!” You encouraged. 

“Fine,” he muttered. “Leader of the Pack by Twisted Sisters,” he huffed, his face souring.

“What? Why?” You asked with a baffled look.

“Because, I waited for that album for two years, and the moment I listened to that song, I wanted to die.” His hand daggered through his chest dramatically, making you huff.

“A bit dramatic, don't you think?” Your brows pinched together playfully.

“No, I'm serious Pinky. That album was pure garbage, I swear I got teary over it.” You giggled slightly.

“No, but I love that!” you exclaimed, your eyes lighting up immediately.

“Love what? That awful song?” He asked with a scoff.

“No, you dumbass,” you huffed, rolling your eyes dramatically at him.

“I love that a record can make you feel so many different emotions, you know?” you mused. “Anyone can listen to it, and they can have so many different stories, it’s super fascinating to me.”

Your gaze shifted toward the pool’s rippling water. “That’s one of the things I love about working in a record shop—people have so many different stories and feelings regarding music and it’s just..." You muttered. “I don’t know I think it’s great that just one thing can make everyone feel something different, it’s like a secret language that speaks uniquely to everyone, you know?”

Eddie nodded, leaning closer to you now. “That is kinda… inspiring,” Eddie hummed as he pondered for a minute, and that piqued your curiosity. “Hold on a second,” he said, holding up a finger as you watched him reach into his pocket.

A worn notebook was sprawled on his lap, and once you leaned closer, you realized it was the ‘promise’ notebook. Your eyes widened as you tried to catch a glimpse of what he was scribbling inside. "What are you doing?" you asked, a mischievous giggle escaping your lips, but he playfully blocked your view.

"That's going in the notebook!" he exclaimed, a glimmer of excitement in his eyes. 

“Nuh-uh,” you disapproved. “That was so lame.” You shook your head embarrassedly.

"No, it was quite touching, actually," Eddie replied with his head still buried in the notebook.

“So you just write down everything like that?” You asked with your head tilted.

“Pretty much,” he shrugged. “I just scribble down anything that feels important to me.” A smile etched on your lips at that. 

“And then sometimes, if I’m lucky, and I mean very very lucky, these thousand notes can turn into a song,” he hummed excitedly.

“Can I see them?” You asked with a hopeful look.

“No way!” He chuckled.

“What?” You exclaimed. “I should be like the only person who has access to that!” You huffed with your arms crossed across your chest.

“And why would that be, princess?” He pinched his brows together, teasing you.

“Uh, maybe because I gave you that notebook, asshole?” You retorted animatedly, teasing him back. 

He contemplated for a moment before he spoke. “Okay, how about this…” He mocked a thinking face, piquing your curiosity. “You go in the water with me… and I’ll give you a note,” he offered. 

Your gaze drifted toward the cold water. You always hated going to the pool without your bathing suit, and he knew that, but you so wanted those notes. 

“Just one?” You squinted your gaze. 

Eddie sighed dramatically. "Fine, I can give you one paper with notes on both sides," he conceded. You nodded frantically. “Deal!” You exclaimed, holding out your hand for him to shake it. 

“But one more thing,” He spoke up again causing you to groan. “You can only read it once you get home,” he mute. 

“Fine, is that all of your conditions, Munson?” you quipped, arching an eyebrow.  He mocked a thinking face again. “Pretty much, yeah,” he replied with a sly smirk.

“Okay, okay. Then I’ll go in the pool with you.” 

“You promise?” 

“Yeah,” you muttered. 

“Pinky promise?” He asked with a grin, and you rolled your eyes. Elbowing him playfully at his joke “Jerk,” you muttered under your breath. 

“Close your eyes,” he said, his voice low. “What?” You inquired.

“Close your eyes so I can pick a note, and put it in your pocket.” He shrugged, and you obliged with a huff. 

You could hear him whipping through the notes, cursing as he debated which one he wanted you to see. 

“Your eyes still closed?” He asked, his voice still gentle. You nodded with a huff, trying to appear annoyed when your excitement was building with each passing second.

“‘Kay,” he mumbled, and you could feel his hands grazing you as he stuffed the note in the pocket of your jacket. 

“You can open them,” he said as soon as he was finished. 

“All done?” You muttered, cheeks still embarrassingly heating after you just felt a graze of his touch. He nodded with a grin. 

“Now it’s your turn,” he teased, fingers pointing toward the pool. 

Giving him an annoyed glare, you sucked in a shuddering breath. You glanced around at the pool again, the illuminating lights created a cosy atmosphere that truly warmed you, but you knew the chilly water would give you a rude awakening. 

Your trembling fingers slid your coat off your shoulders, tossing it aside as your feet splashed around the water. It was cold, and you looked back at Eddie with a pout. “We’re going to catch a cold,” you whined. 

Eddie huffed in mock annoyance, his impatience evident. "For the love of God, just go in," he exclaimed. You faced the pool again, feet still swishing around in the water. The more time you took, the closer you could feel Eddie’s silhouette behind you, and you knew if you didn’t go in soon, he was going to intervene. 

Your fingers fiddled nervously with the hem of your dress as you contemplated your decision once again. But before you could make up your mind, a sudden and unexpected push from Eddie left you in shock. Without warning, you were propelled dramatically into the pool, the water enveloping you with a cold, exhilarating rush. You emerged almost as soon as you fell in, sputtering and laughing, your dress clinging to your body and your hair plastered to your face.

“You asshole! I knew you would do that,” you exclaimed with a chuckle. 

You dived in once, fixing your hair after you emerged again. Your head tilting to see that sly smirk on his lips. “Jerk,” you muttered again. 

“Oh, you’ll live,” he mocked.

You extended your hand toward him with a pout, and he had a baffled look on his face. “Help me up, please,” you whined, shaking your hand further to convince him, but he could see that mischievous glint in your eyes.

Eddie squinted at you playfully, his head cocked in mock suspicion. “You think I’m fallin’ for that?” Your scoff only elicited a roll of his eyes. “You pushed me in, dumbass! The least you could do is pull me up." You protested, your hand waving in the air, waiting for him to fall into your trap. 

“Nah,” he shrugged nonchalantly, a smirk playing at his lips. You continued to whine, your hand still reaching out to him.

“Eddie, I’m serious, it’s super cold, and this dress is suffocating me!” You argued, the slight desperation in your voice making him feel for you. Eddie hesitated for a moment. That soft, innocent look in your eyes and the sweet pout on your lips were more than enough to convince him. If only he weren't as hopelessly infatuated with you, he might have resisted longer.

With a deep sigh, he extended his hand toward yours, taking it in a firm grip. “Fine, but if you try to pull me down, I swear to god-”

Before he could finish his threat, you swiftly pulled him toward you, yanking him off balance and into the water with a resounding splash.

Giggles erupted from your lips. “Too late!” you declared triumphantly, a wide grin adorning your face.

As you watched him resurface, he gave his head a good shake, water droplets flew around as his chuckles filled the air, and he couldn't help but praise you with a playful smirk. “You're good,” he admitted, the characteristic dimples on his cheeks making an appearance. You returned his compliment with a warm smile. “I know.”

Eddie felt dizzy; a flood of feelings hit him all at once when he looked at you again. He tried to divert his eyes away from you—from your smooth skin, from the sweet curve of your lips, from the way your brows pinched together when you giggled so sweetly. But he couldn’t.

Those innocent, big eyes that had a slight bit of mischievous glint in them—the way you fluttered your eyelashes at him whenever you teased him—it was all too fucking much for him.

Don’t look at her, Eddie. He tried to remind himself, but it was useless.

God, you really were beautiful. 

He shouldn’t be any closer to you, but he couldn’t fucking help it. 

When he swam closer, the laughter in the air had fully died down; there was only tension—so much tension that you could hear your own heart rate picking up. 

The water around you seemed to shimmer the closer he got to you, caging you between him and the edge of the pool. You gulped physically when you felt the concrete hit your back; he had you cornered. 

Each second stretched into hours now, and all the two of you did was gaze into each other's eyes, speaking a language without any words being spoken. 

He couldn’t help it when his gaze drooped down to your glossy lips, they looked so kissable that Eddie was about to lose his mind. You opened your mouth to speak but it was of no use, no words dared to come out of it. 

You watched in awe as his hands grazed against your cheek first, then he tucked that one strand of hair behind your ears. You could feel his breath fanning against your cheeks—that same speechless expression on his face that mirrored yours.  

Eddie was sure you had this unexplainable, tight hold on his heart. He had never, ever felt so completely possessed by someone before. You completely invaded his mind in a way that he struggled to put into words.

His calloused hands hooked behind your back as he inched you a little bit closer.  Your heart was pounding inside your ribcage, and your eyes were following his every movement. The second his forehead came to rest against yours, all you could do was squeeze your eyes shut. 

“Look at me.” He whispered all huskily, and you were sure you had never heard him filled with this much desire.  

You didn’t dare to open your eyes, standing still and even afraid to let out that gasp you’ve been holding on to for far too long. 

Was this all real?

Was he actually going to kiss you?

[wardenparker]

The Stars Re-Align, part 2

Frankie Morales x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

Rating: E for Explicit! 18+ Word Count: 9.8k Warnings: Reader is given an age and a grown daughter. Cursing, food/alcohol, mentions of military service (obviously), complicated relationships, family drama, of-age teenage sexuality, flashback, abusive relationship, domestic abuse, slaps to the face, verbal abuse. Summary: A trip down memory lane brings a conversation full of honesty with your daughter. Frankie frets about the future with Will. And then the world turns upside down all over again. (This chapter begins with a flash back). Notes: Rated E for an Explicit portrayal of an abusive relationship. Even if the on-page violence is minimal, it still deserves to be tagged.

“What time are your parents getting home?” The most frequently asked question you and Frankie have for each other these days, as you decide where to hang out after school and what hanging out will actually consist of.

Frankie smirks and shrugs slightly, eyes dark and full of promise as he slides them up and down your body. “Don’t know.” He admits. “Late. They said something about bowling after Dad got off work.”

The subway is packed full but somehow Frankie still manages to get impressively closer to you as the stops roll by. “Your place, then,” your head bobs in agreement while you try to think a little with his hands on you. Two more stops.

“My place.” He leans in, nuzzling your neck and dropping a kiss on your thready pulse. Grinning when it jumps against his lips.

“I’ll—” It’s all you can do not to gasp any time Frankie kisses you, and you’re in public. “I’ll call my Mom from your phone. Let her know.”

“Tell her you’re staying the night.” He encourages, knowing that he won’t want to let you go home. You live two stops from him and it’s close enough to swing by and have you get dressed in the morning. Or you can wear his clothes. He doesn’t mind that at all.

“It’s a good thing she likes you,” you huff, but again the sound turns into a swallowed moan when he touches you. “I’ll tell her.”

“Good.” Frankie loves how you melt for him. It’s something he takes pride in, aware that you do talk to your friends about your relationship, and that you only have good things to say.

"Not gonna let me study at all, are you?" It's a half-hearted gripe, although you both do have homework to do. Senior year is starting out better than you could possibly imagine and college applications will go out soon. Everything is just as perfect as you could possibly want.

“I bet you that you’ll get an A after our study session.” He chuckles in your ear. “Every prep test you get right, you get an orgasm.”

"Frankie." The little whine only spurs him on. If not for the train jolting to a stop and the hustling bustle of people moving all around you, he'd probably slip his hand under your clothes right there on the train.

“What?” He gives you an innocent look. “You know I’m good for them.”

"I know you are," you huff as he moves you off the train and onto the platform along with the masses. "That's why I'm whining."

“So you’re going to be a good girl and get every answer right, aren’t you?” It’s become a game to him, to see how often he can turn you on in public and he loves how responsive you are. His baggy pants hiding his hard cock from the public as he teases you.

"I would get every answer right anyway." It's another huff, but it's good natured. Mostly just the fact that he's so damn good at getting you all riled up no matter where you are.

“I know, my girl is smart.” He hums, guiding you towards the stairs. “Sexy, sweet, nice ass…shit that’s not an ‘s’ word.” He huffs playfully, just wanting to hear you laugh.

It works, because of course it does, and the sound bubbles out of you as you hustle up the stairs to street level with Frankie right behind you. The extra sway in your hips is just for him, but if someone else notices you couldn't care less. At times like this your world is just narrowed down completely and entirely to Frankie.

Friends for years, Frankie had finally gathered the courage to ask you out in middle school, elated when you said yes. There hadn’t been the drama others had, no huge fights and breaking up only to get back together, the two of you had been steady. He had tried to brush off all the jokes about getting married straight out of school and you popping out six kids right away. You both had plans that didn’t include kids for a few years. At least until after he was a higher rank in the Army. “Shake that ass, baby!” He calls out, whistling in a catcall.

If you were any version of yourself except a teenager desperately in love, you might have huffed at him or made a face, but in this moment you just giggle and throw even more sway into your movements until you’re all the way at the top of the stairs and waiting for him to join you.

“Goddamn.” Staring at your ass, Frankie nearly trips over his own feet on the stairs, catching himself and grinning when you giggle at him again.

“If we don’t get you home in one piece, you don’t get to have any fun,” you remind him, clicking your tongue teasingly.

“Ass.” He sticks his tongue out at you playfully.

"Didn't you just point out how much you love my ass?" The playful retort comes with a kiss to his cheek, and you grab his hand to head for his apartment.

Like others in the building, the apartment had been the Morales family home for years. Making the habit of pulling out his keys and unlocking the door almost automatic. It’s a long-ingrained motion.

“Any sign of siblings?” Before you sling down your backpack on Frankie’s desk chair, you bite your lip and look around curiously for his brother and sister.

"Nope." Frankie doesn't see any of the tell-tale signs of the younger ones being around. He would be tripping over their damn shoes around the door.

“Thank goodness.” The less time you have to spend being social, the more time you and Frankie have to yourselves, and you grab him by the wrist to pull him down the hall to his bedroom.

"Eager to study, already?" Frankie laughs as he lets you drag him away from the living area.

“We can study while other people are home.” You throw a pout at him over your shoulder. “Or do you not want to try what I learned from the copy of Cosmopolitan that Shelly Estrada stole from her mother?”

“What was in it?” He’s always interested in what you learn from those magazines.

“Something we absolutely could not hide under a blanket.” Giggling a bit, you bite your lip and toss your backpack down in his room at the end of the hall just in time for his arms to come around you. “And involves me being on top of you, which I know you love.”

His brow wings up and he grins instantly, always loving when you are bouncing on his cock. “But we had fucked with you on top under the blanket.”

“I know.” Your eyes flash with mischief as your boyfriend practically slams his bedroom door shut. “This is different.”

The click of the lock is loud, securing you inside and keeping out the rest of the world through the action. “Tell me.”

“You get on your back.” One of his favorite views of you is from his back so that isn’t a hard sell. “But when I get on top of you, it’s flipped. So you can eat me out while I suck your cock.”

“Fuck.” Frankie hisses, eyes widening in absolute delight as he quickly reaches for his shirt to pull it off. He loves using his tongue on you and enjoys the very boastful reputation you have given him by bragging to your friends. “I’ve seen it in a porno.” He admits, nodding in agreement. “Fuck, take your clothes off baby.”

“Boys have pornos and girls have Cosmo,” you tease, already pulling your t-shirt over your head.

“Girls can watch porno too.” Frankie snorts. “Bet it would turn you on and give you ideas.”

“Girls can watch porno too.” Toeing off your shoes and pulling off your socks lets you strip your jeans off too, and you stand unafraid and unapologetic in your underwear in front of Frankie. “But where would I get it?”

“Watch it with me.” He groans, pushing down his own jeans and underwear so his hard cock springs out and bobs in the air. “Sit on my dick while you watch another girl get fucked.”

“Next time,” you promise him, though it’s a little breathless as your mouth waters at the sight of him and you pull your bra and panties off as fast as humanly possible. “I want to try this first.”

"I want to try it too, baby." He is always eager to try new things, positions, everything with you. He had cum so quickly the first time he slid inside you. Embarrassed, but you hadn't blamed him for it. Now, he was proud of the fact that you were cumming before him, completely boneless as he fucks you into the bed of his childhood bedroom every chance he gets. You are his everything.

******

Sitting home alone last night was probably a bad idea, but you hadn’t wanted to wreck Rachel’s night. Instead you barely slept — crying intermittently and picking at the remains of your birthday cake with a seemingly endless margarita in your hand while you watched rom-coms and thought about Frankie. Just because Santiago was probably right to end things didn’t make it easier.

Now you’re hungover with your face bowed over a cup of coffee and trying to lecture yourself into making breakfast while you try to figure out what the fuck to do with yourself today.

There’s an extreme sense of guilt that has settled over Frankie’s shoulders. He had – unknowingly – crashed your party and ruined things for you. And changed his entire life in the process. Another child. A grown ass woman who was half his. He hadn’t told Marie, couldn’t even find the words, although he had scooped up his precious little girl and held her close, locking himself into the nursery with her.

As if you were feeling some of those vibes beat out to you across towns, you abandon the thought of breakfast for now in favor of going upstairs to dig out your oldest Memory Box. The box full of keepsakes and memories all pertaining to Frankie. Not the one that contains all of the pregnancy-related things that you’d shown Rachel multiple times in her life, but the secret one you keep tucked in the back of your closet that has things like ticket stubs to the movies and concerts you went to together or the endless Polaroids you took on every occasion. That box. That is the one you bring back downstairs to wallow in at the dining room table.

******

“I don’t think I need to leave Mom alone today.” Rachel tells Benny, sighing softly and reaching for his hand. “This doesn’t make things weird, does it?” She’s asking yet again, but she needs the reassurance.

“We’ll adjust, baby.” He promises her. She needs the comfort of hearing it again and, to Benny’s surprise, each time he says it he means it that much more.

“I didn’t know. I feel like I should have.” She confesses quietly.

“How?” That still doesn’t make sense to him. There is no way she could have known just based on instinct. “Absolutely nobody thought this was gonna happen, baby girl. And it doesn’t change how much I love you.”

“I know, I just—” she clings to his hand and sighs. “I’ve always had this fantasy of my dad coming back and finding us.” She admits quietly. “And now…I don’t know what to do.”

“Frankie’s a good guy.” Benny huffs, knowing that sounds lame. “He’s been through so much. Saved our skins way more times than I can count. And the way he is with Luna? Baby, I know it isn’t what you imagined, but give Fish a chance. You might be surprised to find out that your Dad is just a normal guy who will do right by you.”

“I feel guilty.” She huffs. “Santiago is a good guy too. And yet…” she shrugs slightly. “If you had asked me yesterday if he was someone I would want my mom to be with long term, I would have said yes.” She glances away. “Now…”

Benny’s brow furrows, seeing the guilt on her face for even thinking it. “You wish your parents could be together?” He guesses, soothing one hand over her back.

“Is that wrong?” She asks softly. “If he’s the man you say he is….my mom deserves to be happy.”

“Of course it’s not wrong,” Benny shakes his head. “But…it’s up to them.”

“Yeah.” She sighs softly and smiles at Ben. “Do you want to come in? Or do you want to run for the hills for right now?”

“If you want me to come in, I will.” In no way does he want to give her the impression he’s making a run for it, but he also doesn’t think it’s his place to be in there right now, either. “What if I drop you off now so you can have some time with your Mom, and I’ll come by with dinner later? I can pick up from the Thai place you guys like.”

“That would be good.” She nods, thankful that she can determine what kind of mood you are in. It’s possible that you have simply brushed off the entire thing, but she doubts it.

“Then that’s what I’ll do. Pad Thai for my girl and that crazy peanut curry your Mom likes.” He grins when Rachel almost opens her mouth, but he holds up his hand. “And the fried calamari with the sweet chili sauce. Otherwise don’t bother bringing anything at all. I know, baby. I love you.”

She laughs and leans over to press her lips to his cheek. “You are the best.” She promises. “Thank you for being here. For not finding all of this crazy.”

It’s a little crazy, but not nearly crazy enough to lose her over, so Benny just hums and kisses her back. “Text me if you need me, baby. I’m going to train for a few hours.”

“Good luck.” She doesn’t ask if Frankie is going to help, she doesn’t want to know right now. Since his pilot’s license was suspended, Frankie had been helping Benny train and right now, it’s just too awkward to think about.

Normally vigilant, you don't even hear the front door of the house open when Rachel comes inside. The box of memories has overflowed all over the table as you uncover more and more pieces of your past, and there is definitely a damp tissue in your hand when you finally hear footsteps on the kitchen tile. "Oh shit." The sound makes you jump, but when you wheel around to see your daughter standing there, you relax immediately. "Sorry, sweet pea. I didn't know you were coming home. You scared me."

“Hey Mom.” Curiosity practically seeps out of her pores, looking over pictures and trinkets that she’s never seen before. She knows this has to be a box of things from your time with her dad. She knows it. “Organizing?”

"Um...more like memory lane." You glance back at the table before looking up at your daughter and pat the chair beside you. "Have you had breakfast yet?"

“No, but I can wait.” She doesn’t want you to stop, so she slides into the seat and picks up a Polaroid. “Holy shit….you two look like babies.”

"That was..." Tilting your head slightly in consideration, you squint at the faded photograph and end up smiling. "Sophomore year. So we were about 15? They took us all on a class trip to Ellis Island."

“God.” She huffs, squinting at the photo. “You two look over the moon crazy about each other.” She points out, noticing the way that her dad’s arm is slung over your shoulder and he’s grinning like he’s the luckiest boy in the world.

"We were." If there's a note of yearning in your voice it's unintentional, but you do reach for another photo and hand it over to her to inspect. "Senior prom," you hum in amusement, and offer her another photo that has you and Frankie noticeably younger with a very excited looking collie in the photo between you. "And this is the day he asked me out." Shifting the picture from Ellis Island into the middle, you look at the trio with tired eyes. "The beginning, middle, and almost-end of our relationship."

“You never really talked about my dad much.” She studied each photo carefully, as if she could possibly glean some friction that was under the bright smiles and finding nothing. “Did it hurt too much?”

"Partially." It was a large part of it, if you're honest, and you realize belatedly that you've picked up a piece of jewelry he gave you ages ago like it's some kind of fidget toy. "But also...I didn't think we would ever see him again. And I didn't want you to build up dreams of him thinking he might just stroll in through the front door one day. Which seems ludicrous now, since that is essentially what happened."

Rachel snorts and leans back, biting her lip. “It’s fucking crazy is what it is.” She admits. “He’s like…one of Ben’s best friends. He said they’ve been through some shit together. Francisco saved his life…more than once. My father saved my boyfriend’s life.”

"I'm sure you have plenty you want to ask." Pushing back from the table, you squeeze her shoulder gently and step away to scour the refrigerator for anything breakfast oriented. "But first...how are you and Ben doing, honey? Are you guys okay with all this?"

“We’re okay.” She promises, reaching for another photo. “He’s coming back after training with Pad Thai for dinner.” She tells you. “Santiago still asleep?” His car isn’t in the driveway, so it’s an invitation for you to talk, rather than a question.

"Probably." He's a heavy sleeper, and definitely not a morning person, so wherever he is he's probably still asleep. But that isn't what Rachel is asking and you both know it. "He didn't stay, honey." Suddenly you want absolutely nothing to eat all over again, and your head pounds even harder. More coffee will help... "We, uh...we broke up, Rach."

“Oh shit.” She huffs out the whispered curse and shoots out of her chair. Dropping the photos as she rushes towards you to engulf you in a huge hug. “I’m so sorry, Mom.”

"It's okay, honey." It hurts like hell, but you aren't going to treat your daughter like your therapist. It's more than enough that she's there to offer you comfort and support. "I'm just glad that the whole situation hasn't come between you and Ben."

“He broke up with you, didn’t he?” Rachel frowns deeply, upset on your behalf. “That asshole. I’m going to chew him a new asshole.”

"It just wasn't meant to be, that's all." The last thing you want to do is cause more drama with this group of friends that she has. It's bad enough that her father is in the middle of all of this. "And he's entitled to make that decision for himself."

“Did he say why?” She demands.

"He didn't have to say why." But now she's upset, and you start buzzing around the kitchen again to keep yourself busy and hopefully soothe both of you with some food. "If it makes you feel any better, he wasn't happy about it."

“Oh.” That makes her pause and she tries to see it from his point of view. “Oh shit….” She sighs and moves to flop back down into her chair. “He— it’s because of Dad, right?” She asks quietly. “Some kind of bro code. ‘Thou shall not sleep with friend’s former girl’? That has to be it.”

"I don't know if it's as formal as that, but...basically." Yogurt and fresh fruit from the fridge are joined by a box of granola from the cupboard and you put on a fresh pot of coffee to brew. "It's okay, sweet pea. I promise. And please don't think any less of Santiago for putting his friendship first. He's known Frankie a heck of a lot longer than he's known me."

“I just— I don’t like the fact that him showing up has ruined things for you.” She’s still conflicted, and she would never tell you her secret fantasy, even as close as you are.

"It's better to find out early on." That's what you're telling yourself this morning. That you were better off finding out that Santiago and Frankie are best friends before you and Santiago had started planning for the future. "It's not anybody's fault. It's just...how life is sometimes."

She blows out a guilty sigh. “I wish I had stayed home.” She mourns. “I didn’t know he was going to break up with you. You were all alone.”

"I didn't want your night ruined." Once the coffee pot is going again, you grab bowls and spoons and bring the whole tray of breakfast things to the table. "You deserve to have a nice time with your boyfriend. That shouldn't stop on account of your Mom having a little drama in her life."

“A little drama…” she snorts and rolls her eyes, leaning back in her chair and crossing her arms over her chest. Unaware that she looks exactly like Frankie would have. Right down to the downturn of her frown and the crease of her dimple.

"You look exactly like your father when you do that, you know." You've always thought so, and she's been doing that posture since she was a toddler. "If you ever see him do it, it will be like looking in a mirror."

She rolls her eyes again, sensing that you are trying to steer the subject back to him and she lets you “Tell me about it?” She asks softly. “All of it. The good, the bad and the ugly.”

"For the most part, it was all good," you admit. A basic breakfast comes together easily for both of you and you fill your bowls with yogurt and fruit and honey and granola in your own personal perfect ratios. "We were nearly inseparable. And since we went to the same school, and our Dads worked for the same company, it all went pretty smoothly for a long time. Everybody just...assumed we would always be together. Even us."

“Was there ever any sign he would break up with you?” Rachel can’t even fathom how abruptly the relationship ended if you were as close as you say. It’s just not how she knows her mother to be. You have always been strong and vocal.

“We had a whole plan.” A plan that went haywire, but a plan nonetheless. “But…when I found out I was pregnant I panicked. I started pressing Frankie to get married quickly, instead of waiting like we had planned. I should have told him why, but I was seventeen and convinced that he would just break up with me if I told him the truth. And…no, before you ask. He never gave me any indication that he wouldn’t have wanted a baby. But he wanted to wait to do the grown-up things, so I thought that springing the news on him would ruin it. But if I could show him that getting married earlier wasn’t a big deal, then the baby news would be okay, too. It…it doesn’t make a lot of sense in retrospect. But we were just about to graduate high school and I was hiding my morning sickness by claiming it was nerves over my boyfriend joining the Army. I was not at my best critical thinking levels.”

“Do you think he would have stayed if he had known about me?” The question is quiet, introspective. Wanting to know if she would have been wanted. She knows you love her; you’ve always made that clear, but she also wants to know about the man who is the other half of her biological makeup.

“I didn’t think so at the time, but I don’t know how much of that was just fear of the unknown,” you admit, reaching for her hand and squeezing it gently in your own. “But I know he wants to get to know you now. I’m sorry that isn’t a very good answer.”

“Are you— are you okay with that?” She asks, unsure if getting to know Fransisco would cause you pain. She wouldn’t want that, not for a moment. “If you don’t want to see him….” She shrugs. “I can meet him out in town. Not talk about him.”

“Honey, no.” On this point you are absolutely firm, and you shake your head adamantly. “There’s been enough years of not talking about your father. He’s not someone to be ashamed of and we’re not going to treat him that way.” Will it hurt? Of course. But you would rather see Rachel happy than anything else in the world.

“Okay.” She’s still eyeing you doubtfully, but she agrees. For now, she will just make sure that there isn’t a lot of talk about the man you had loved. “Do you— how do you feel about getting to know him again? Seeing him?”

“I wish it hadn’t been by surprise.” That admission comes with a little laugh, because yesterday is still so unbelievable to you, but you just shrug and shake your head. “To be honest, sweet pea? If I can’t face him at this point, I’ll never be able to. And you deserve to know your father.”

“It might be a good thing, then.” She decides. “You make it sound like you never expected to see him ever again.”

"I didn't." You can admit to that very easily.

She nods, looking down at the photos again. “You loved him.” She can tell that easily by the besotted look on your face. “Do you still? Or love that version of him?” She points to the high school photo of them together.

"You're really not going easy on me with the questions today, are you kiddo?" The coffeepot finishes percolating, and you pop up from the table again, needing a fresh cup if you're going to continue on with this line of thought from your daughter. After a few moments of silence filled only by the pouring of hot coffee, you return to the table and sigh. "Yes." You nod finally. "I still love him very much. But who he was then and who he is now may be two completely different people so I have no intention of making a nuisance out of myself after a whole lifetime apart. I only care that you get to have your father around if you want him in your life."

“I’m sorry.” She murmurs softly. “Who would have fucking ever thought? Not me. I mean, I always thought it would be wild if Ben had met my dad. But you nor my grandparents ever even said his name.”

"You have nothing to be sorry for, Rach. Life just...doesn't make sense sometimes. But we always make the best we can out of the confusion." The two of you doctor your coffee and dig in to your light breakfast. Whatever happens, you will just keep rolling with it. Your adult life has been making sure that Rachel is cared for and happy, and that doesn't change just because Frankie Morales still makes your heart clench.

******

He’s in the room with Luna when there’s a knock at the front door. Watching her play with the toys in front of her and squeal happily for tummy time. She’s almost ready to crawl, but for some reason, hasn’t started yet. It irritates Marie, but Frankie is happy to have his daughter still immobile for a bit longer. Once she starts moving, there will be no stopping her.

Marie pulls open the front door with a huff, dressed to go out and irritated that she's being delayed even for a few seconds. "Will." The figure of Frankie's friend fills the doorway and where she once had patience to pretend to be glad to see any of them, it has evaporated recently. "He's been in with the baby since yesterday. Good luck getting him out."

“Hey Marie,” Will doesn’t care for the woman, but he also knows that as long as Frankie is with her, he needs to be polite. Knowing that causing any problems for his former teammate would not be in the man’s best interest. “You are dressed up nice. Big plans?”

"Girls' day," she tells him breezily. Marie grabs her purse and sunglasses with the door still open and swans right through it. "Bye!"

“Bye.” He watches her practically zip down the stairs and chuckles slightly. It’s not like having a day for yourself is not warranted. He wonders if Frankie offered this so he could go to the cookout yesterday. “Fish?” He calls out, wanting him to know that he was here. Everyone is a little more on edge since South America and it wouldn’t be wise to startle him.

Luna squawks happily at the familiar sound of her uncle Will's voice, and he steps further into the apartment. Footfalls that are heavy enough to be heard, but not heavy enough to disturb the downstairs neighbors. The woman who lives below Frankie works third shift and will barely be asleep at this hour of the morning.

Frankie looks up as the door opens, his eyes falling on Will before looking back down at his daughter. “Uncle Will is here.” He coos, brow furrowed as he goes over yet another thing that he missed out on with Rachel. “What’s up?”

“Thought you could use some company,” Will tells him honestly, but he also reaches out for Luna and grins when she reaches back. “And I wanted to see my favorite niece in the whole wide world,” he babbles, laughing when the little girl giggles and looks over again at Frankie. He looks like he needs to stretch at minimum, if not run a marathon to get rid of some stress.

“Only—” Frankie breaks off from his usual retort, paling slightly when the new dynamic hits him all over again. “Where’s Jess?”

“Brunch with her sister.” Will’s girlfriend is typically around for whatever mischief the group gets up to when she isn’t at work, but makes seeing her sister a priority just like Will and Benny make each other priority. It gives her a good foundation of understanding for the Miller brothers, and makes her a solid support person for the whole group — not just for Will. “She asked me to apologize to you for having to work yesterday. Said it sounded like you could have used the support…”

“Yeah.” The word is heavy, pushed out of him on a sigh. He reaches up to scrub his hair, his hat missing this morning and he picks up Luna to hand her to Will when she keeps squawking for him.

“Hey little fairy queen!” Will blows a raspberry on Luna’s cheek to make her laugh and nods his head that Frankie should follow him out into the living room. “Marie went out,” the younger man tells him.

Nodding quietly, Frankie groans as he pushes himself up off the floor. “Yeah. She said something about a day off.” He rolls his eyes but doesn’t say anything else. Seems like she’s needed more and more days off since he’s come back from South America, but every time he suggests spending time together, it’s thrown in his face that he was radio silent for nearly fourteen days – double the amount of time he had said he would be gone. Frankie has just given up trying to apologize.

“Talk to me, Fish.” Will insists, carrying Luna into the kitchen to grab them drinks and looking the little girl over. “Does she need a bottle? I have no idea what time it is.”

“She ate about an hour ago.” Frankie sighs and moves over to the fridge, opening it up to notice that Marie didn’t get the cereal he had asked for, nor any of the baby foods. He sighs and grabs a couple of sodas. It’s a bad idea to drink right now. “What do you want to talk about?”

“Fish.” Will’s tone is deadpan and matter-of-fact all at once. “C’mon man.”

Sighing again, he pops the top of his soda and takes a swing. “What do you want me to say?” Frankie huffs. “This is going to be a big fucking deal.” Marie is going to kill him. It’s not going to matter that his child is grown or that he never even knew about her. His girlfriend had this strange obsession with having been the only girl to have a baby with him. Had once jokingly told him that she had baby trapped him— although it hadn’t felt like much of a joke at the time. She had been six months pregnant at that point. “I feel goddamn guilty.”

“You had no idea.” Will reminds him. He cracks the cap on the soda that he had been handed and quietly approves of the choice. Marie hadn’t been a very good influence in Fish’s habits but since coming back from South America he’s been trying to clean up his act pretty dramatically. “But uh…hell of a coincidence, honestly. We always knew you and Pope had the same taste in women.”

“Fuck.” Frankie snorts and rolls his eyes, trying to hide the pain in them. “It’s not that….” He hedges guiltily, reaching out and tickling Luna under her chin and then dropping his hand. “I’ve been stuck on what could have been if I had known.”

“Would you have stayed?” It’s a hard question, and maybe it doesn’t have an answer, but it’s important that he’s at least thought about it. About what he would have done then and what he’ll do now.

“Abso-fucking-lutely.” The answer is immediate and fierce. “I should have asked questions. Demanded to know why she wanted to get married so badly.”

“You were kids.” That part of the situation cannot be stressed nearly enough, and the two men bring Luna into the living room to settle her in her playpen so they can talk.

“We were adult enough to make a baby.” Frankie shoots back before he winces. “One who is currently fucking your brother. Jesus Christ.” He flops down onto the sofa and covers his face with his hand.

“Yeah…Benny promises to cool his jets talking about her like that, by the way.” That conversation had been had between the brothers already — Benny had brought it up and Will promised to deliver the message. “He never would’ve if he had known.”

“Still gonna punch him.” Frankie snort out, looking up at the ceiling. “Definitely didn’t need to know that shit about my daughter.”

"More than fair," Will agrees with a snicker. "He absolutely deserves it. My only request is to be allowed to film it for posterity."

Frankie laughs, probably for the first time since his world has been flipped upside down and he leans back. “What the fuck am I going to do?”

"Perfect world." Will poses, pointing a finger and the neck of the Dr. Pepper bottle at Fish. "Best case scenario, what would you want?"

Frankie shakes his head. “Time travel isn’t possible, man.” He sighs and looks over at Luna. “And I don’t regret having my baby girl.”

"Okay, that's fair." Nobody could regret little Luna, in his opinion. She's the best baby in the world, and he and Benny have their fair share of nieces and nephews to compare to back home from their sister. "Best case scenario of the future."

Guilt swims in his stomach and he rubs it reflexively. “Come on, she hates me.” He starts out. “There’s no way I could possibly have that happily ever after like in some kind of fucking Hallmark movie.” He closes his eyes. “Besides, Marie would fucking murder me.”

"Respectfully, Marie can rot in hell." None of the guys like her, but Fish had been so deep under her spell in the beginning that they had let things run their course, hoping that he would come to his senses along the way. Instead, Fish ended up with a baby on the way. "If you want your girl, maybe one of us can at least do a little recon before you just assume that she hates you?"

He hates the hope that blooms, knowing it would be squashed quickly. “Fuck— how could she not hate me?” He huffs, rolling his eyes and flopping his head forward to take another sip of the soda, even if he desperately wishes it was a beer. “I left her alone to raise a kid. Our kid.” He bites his lip. “I almost saw her….after boot camp. But I was too goddamn stubborn and that bit me in the ass.”

"What happened?" Trying to poke and prod along this highway through Fish's memories is precarious, but it's why Will is here. Pope isn't going to be able to talk sense into Fish right now while he's still getting over the woman who fathered his best friend's oldest child. And Benny sure as fuck isn't going to be the one to offer advice when he's currently sleeping with said oldest child. This one is Will's job.

“I don’t even fucking know.” Frankie closes his eyes. “There was the normal bullshit teasing.” He admits. “Everyone saying I was going to knock her up before we graduated. Have to get married. But we had a plan. I was going to go through boot camp and my schooling and then we were going to get married.” It’s filtering through memories that he’s simultaneously repressed and played over and over again. Not sure where daydreams end and reality begins.

It does no one any good to point out that he had very clearly gotten you pregnant before graduation, so Will glosses over that particular detail entirely. "So when she started pushing too, you dug your heels in?"

“She just hit me with it out of nowhere.” Frankie tells him. “At our graduation party. Demands that we get married. Gets angry when I remind her that we had a plan. That I wasn’t marrying her right out of high school.” Frankie sighs, the ‘hindsight is 20/20’ saying is smacking him on the forehead, but you could have told him. “She started crying and telling me we had to get married or it’s over and I snapped.”

"Okay." When Will nods, he leans forward in his seat and watches Luna playing with her brightly colored plastic key ring for a few seconds. "So neither of you gets points for 'Most Mature Teenager Ever'. That's not super surprising."

“No, but I could have cooled down. Gone back to talk to her.” Frankie sighs. “I left for boot camp the next day.”

"But we all know you never forgot about her." The elder Miller brother looks up, raising an eyebrow at Fish and daring his friend to challenge him. "We all have heard you talk about her."

Frankie blushes slightly, knowing that Will is right. “You never forget your first love.”

"Can I be honest?" Normally it's not something he has to ask about, but this is a sensitive topic.

“Shoot.” They’ve been friends for too long to even question it, but Frankie gives him the go ahead.

"It's pretty obvious to anybody who knows you that..." Will shrugs, almost apologizing for the observation. "That you're still in love with her. Or at least you still have love for her."

“That obvious?” Frankie rolls his head back and groans. “Great. Now everyone is going to think I’m pathetic. And Marie can never know who she is. Never.”

"Nobody thinks you're pathetic, Fish." He chuckles softly as Luna has her keys in one hand and reaches for her teddy with the other, determined to have both toys at once. "But man...we've got to do something about this whole situation before you lose your mind or your health or both."

“Seriously thought about just getting faded.” He shoots Will a bland smile to show he’s joking. “Too bad we burned Lorea’s house down. Sure he had some shit stashed in there too.”

"That shit would've killed you," Will points out without hesitation. "But that's exactly what I'm talking about. You and the little queen over here deserve a way better environment than the one you've got."

“Marie swears she’s clean too.” Frankie had gone into rehab before the baby was born, another sore spot between them. But he wants to get his license back bad enough that he would do whatever it takes.

"It's not just that." It's largely that, but not just. "We're worried, Fish. Honestly worried. You're miserable except for your little girl, and you don't have to be."

“She’s pissed at me.” Frankie reminds Will. “Rightfully so. I got popped on a test. I lost my fucking license.”

“So you’re telling me it’s just right now?” Will challenges. “It’s completely temporary that Marie is upset. It’s not been years of excuse after excuse and abusive, controlling behavior that you would have called any single one of us out on already?”

“What do you want me to do, Will?” He feels helpless and stuck. “We have a kid together. I can’t just fucking get rid of her.”

“Jess and I talked.” It might be horrible, but just getting Frankie to admit that he would rather not be with Marie is a huge step forward. They’ve been worried about him for a long time and they’ll take the avenue in that they’ve got. “We cleaned up the spare bedroom and we want to offer it to you and Luna. One floor away might not be far from Marie yet, but it’s a good first step. A safe step.”

“She’s going to try to take Luna from me.” Frankie is immediately shaking his head no, sitting up. “I can’t— Jesus Will, she knows what happened in South America. You don’t think she won’t use that shit to take my child from me?”

“She has no proof.” The reminder is a stark one. That the trip five men made and only four returned from was a dire one. “We were ghosts down there, man. As far as anybody can prove, we were in Sao Paolo on a boys’ trip. That’s all. Nothing illegal about that whatsoever.”

He’s right, but the blind panic still grips Frankie. “I can’t lose her.” He murmurs, looking over at where she has tired herself out and sprawled on the mat of her play pen to sleep. “I’ve lost too much already.”

"We're going to do everything we can, and we're going to be on your side every step of the way," Will assures him. "If you want to get out of this situation, then we're going to help you. Together."

“She’s gotta leave me.” Frankie had never married her, thank God, but he sighs softly. “I think she’s close.”

Ruefully, Will chuckles under his breath. "Then maybe we should tell her about Rachel."

Frankie huffs out a small chuckle. “Do you want her to hit me with a fuckin’ frying pan?”

"My reflexes are pretty good," he's still chuckling, but this time he shrugs and nudges Fish. Seeing him laugh even a little is good. "I'll stop it before the pan gets to you."

“You mentioned a lawyer once.” Frankie reminds him. “You think you could—? I mean, you don’t have to.”

"Absolutely." There is no hesitation in Will's answer. In fact, he's practically pulling out his phone.

“Don’t— I mean, just talk to them.” Frankie hedges. “See if they would be willing to talk to me.”

"I know he will, but I won't jump the gun. I'll just talk to him." The lawyer in question is ex-Army and specializes in custody cases without a clear-cut answer. Will knows he'll do everything he can for a man like Frankie.

He can’t even believe he is contemplating this. “I know she’s going to find out about Rachel.” Frankie murmurs quietly. “But I’m dreading it.”

"That's more than fair." Shifting on the couch, Will looks away from the little figure of Luna asleep in her playpen and focuses on Frankie. "But will it be better or worse if she finds out on her own, rather than you being direct with her?"

“I don’t fucking know.” Frankie frowns, scratching his head. “She’s been so….volatile after Luna. Or South America. Pick one. But she just throws a fit when I tell her to go to the doctor.”

"You shouldn't be alone when you tell her." That much is pretty damn obvious, but Will isn't beyond stating the obvious right now. "If for no other reason than having a corroborating witness for the custody trial."

“Might need a camera.” Frankie snorts quietly, hating how bad things have gotten. He could deal with a lot of shit, but it’s getting be too much.

"Florida's a two-party consent state," Will reminds him. "A witness is better than a camera."

Frankie blows out a sigh and nods. “Yeah. You’re right.” He shakes his head. “I don’t understand how I get myself into this shit.”

“What matters is that we’re going to get you out of it.” The promise is solemn. Quiet, even. That they are going to get Fish out of this hellhole of a relationship. “You and Luna. You’re going to be safe, so she can grow up without worrying that her mom is going to blow up at any time.”

“I don’t understand what went wrong.” Frankie continues on, shaking his head. “It was good at the beginning.”

“Not everything is made to last.” They aren’t necessarily the softest words of wisdom out there, but Will knows as well as anyone that good things come to an end. After all, things were great with his ex-fiancée until they weren’t. “And sometimes…sometimes we get a second chance.”

“Not that I deserve one.” That comment comes for a multitude of reasons, not just leaving you alone and unsupported during your pregnancy and your daughter’s life.

Will hums, understanding where the thought comes from even if he doesn’t agree. “Isn’t that up to her, ultimately? And to you, if you want to give her a second chance?”

“I don’t have any reason to not give her anything.” Frankie snorts. “I owe her. A shit ton of back child support, too.”

"Just start small," the other man advises. The small smile playing on his lips is just from being happy that his friend is starting to seem more relieved. "Talk to her. Get to know Rachel better."

Frankie blows out a sigh and looks over at Luna again. He can’t imagine missing any more time with her than he has to, and he missed Rachel’s entire life. He had a lot to make up for. “Yeah.”

Will blows out a sigh, reaching over and patting Fish's shoulder with the force of a man who knows his own strength but understands some people need to have love and support knocked into them instead of handed gently. "We'll figure it out, man," he promises. "Whatever it takes.”

******

Because Marie is gone out for a girl’s night and Will’s girl is spending the day with her sister, Frankie and Will end up ordering a pizza. Relaxed for the first time since the big reveal, Frankie is sitting on the sofa, laughing with two slices on a plate and another soda in his hand. Luna is already fed, bathed and down for the night, so he’s seriously contemplating the option of a beer.

The door slams open without ceremony, definitely loud enough to make both men inside jump and loud enough to wake up the baby, but Marie doesn't care. She tears inside like a tornado, already seething and ready to scream before she's even closed the door behind her. "Francisco!"

“Jesus!” Frankie jumps up, pizza spilling onto the floor and he’s half afraid that there’s been an accident, until he sees her fury-filled face. “What?”

"What the fuck is this?" There is a slip of paper in Marie's hand and Frankie's coat is draped over her arm, but she throws that down on the floor in the entry way. "Tell me why I reached into your coat pocket and found some slut's phone number?"

His eyes widened, latched onto the paper and he shakes his head. “It’s not— Marie— she’s not— it’s not like that.” He promises, holding his hands up. “I don’t fuck around on you.”

"Then who the fuck is Rachel?" She snarls, practically spitting the name at him as though its very existence was proof enough of his wrongdoing.

“She’s Benny’s girl.” He pleads for her to understand. “I promise. She gave me her number as a friend, nothing more. She’s not interested in me and I’m not interested in her.”

"So you're fucking your friend's girl now?" Marie is very much in the camp that men and women can't be friends without sex getting in the way, so she doesn't buy this bullshit for a second. "Do you hear this Miller? This asshole is fucking your brother's girlfriend."

“God no.” Frankie nearly blanches at the thought and he can’t shake his head fast enough. “No— I’m not fucking her. Never. Please, babe, you gotta believe me. There’s nothing like that between us.”

"Is that where you were yesterday, asshole?" The fire in Marie's eyes makes it abundantly clear that she has already drawn her own conclusions. She has already decided what happened and nothing Frankie says will dissuade her. "Rachel's house?"

“With Benny.” Frankie stresses, wincing when he hears Luna start to cry out in her bedroom. “Fuck.” He hisses. “Will was there. Nothing happened. Goddamnit, you woke the baby.”

"Oh, who gives a fuck about the baby?" She wails, which only makes Luna cry louder. "You're cheating on me!"

“Hold on.” Will doesn’t like to get involved in this, but he holds up his hand. “Fish isn’t cheating on you.”

“Nobody asked you.” Marie spits, clearly only wanting Will involved in the argument when it suits her.

“I’m not cheating on you.” Frankie implores one more time. “Please, just— believe me. Rachel is—” he can’t say it. The words are stuck in his throat.

“Rachel is what, Francisco?” She’s spitting mad — literally — and when Frankie doesn’t answer her immediately she steps further into his space and slaps him clean across the face. “You’re a piece of shit, Morales. But you knew that already.”

His head snaps to the side but he doesn’t react. Will tenses, not sure if Frankie would ever snap to jump back, but he knows that it would be a mistake on the other man’s part. “I am.” Frankie tells her quietly. “We both know that.”

Satisfied with at least that one answer, Marie tosses the piece of paper on the ground at his feet and crosses her arms. “So what the fuck do you have to say for yourself?”

She won’t stop. Not now. Now that she has this insane idea in her head that he’s cheating on her. Frankie glances over at Will, sighing heavily and he scrubs his hands on his pants. “Thing is…Marie…” he swallows, feeling nervous even though he had been cool under more dire circumstances than these. “Rachel is….uh, she’s my fucking daughter.” He confesses quietly.

The moment of hesitation before Marie starts laughing like a disgusted hyena is only the amount of time it takes her to process the most ridiculous thing she's ever heard in her life. Without another second of thought or hesitation, Marie's hand makes contact with Frankie's cheek a second time, the slap ringing through the apartment with a violent vibration. "You should have been groveling on your knees every day you had me," she spits, arms crossed again despite looking like she wants to make it three slaps for 'good' measure. "You fucked up for the last time, Morales. Hope Rachel is enough of a slut to make up for the fact that you wouldn't know where to put your dick with a road map." Shoving past both men, the whirlwind of Marie's anger propels her toward the bedroom with impressive velocity. "Have fun raising that crotch goblin alone, asshole. You fucked up for the last time."

“Marie…” Frankie can’t believe what the fuck she just said. The door to the bedroom slams open and he can only pray that it’s their bedroom and not Luna’s as the baby’s screams get louder. “I’m coming, baby girl.” He rushes to the baby, wanting to protect her and calm her down.

Will stands in the living room, hypervigilant with his phone in his hand to call for help – emergency services or the guys, whichever is needed – just in case. Frankie had closed the door to Luna's nursery behind him to keep the noise down but it's the door to the master bedroom that Will is watching closely. If Marie wants to start shit with him, too, he's right here ready for it.

Rushing over to the crib, Frankie picks up a red-faced, screeching Luna. Gasping for air as she screams, shaking in fury. “It’s okay, baby.” He coos softly, making sure to keep his own emotions closed off, not wanting to transfer energy to her. “Daddy’s gotcha. I’m right here. Shhhhhush.”

Rattling from the room next door continues, finding a crescendo in the crashing of something that might have been furniture. When Marie throws the door back open she seethes at Will, screaming something incoherent before shoving him out of the way to snap up a few things from the living room and throw them into the various bags she has been packing in the bedroom. Mere seconds later, she is marching out the door with one last screeched "FUCK YOU, FRANCISCO!" and leaving it open as she stomps off down the hall into the night.

Luna is halfway soothed, still hiccupping and sobbing into his chest as Frankie rocks her as he paces around the room. Completely sure that his girlfriend has trashed the apartment, but his concern is his daughter.

The door to the nursery opens slowly about a minute later, and Will swallows but shakes his head solemnly. "Well..." The best he can do is sigh. "She's gone. Took about four bags with her."

Frankie turns and nods. “Can you— uh, I think she might need another bottle.” He tells Will. “I don’t want to put her down.”

"I got it," Will promises, putting up one hand as if to tell Fish to stand down. "I also called in reinforcements. The guys should be here in no time. We'll get the place cleaned up and figure things up." He flashes his friend a half smile, trying for a joke. "Guess you won't need to move in with me and Jess after all."

“I don’t—” Frankie bites his lip and frowns. “You don’t think she will come back, do you?”

"Maybe for some stuff she left behind, but those were full bags, Fish." Will shakes his head again, not even sure what to say at this point but sure as all hell that things will be figured out before the night is over. "I'm just glad it's not too late. The number of noise complaints should be fewer." With that, Will steps away to make Luna a bottle and wait for the others to arrive.

“It’s okay, baby girl.” Frankie rumbles softly, rubbing her little back and jostling her to calm her down. “You’re okay. Everything is good.”

******

Benny ignores his phone the first time it goes off in his pocket. The second time, even. It's the third time his phone buzzes with a text message that he apologizes and takes his cell out at the kitchen table as he's eating dinner with you and Rachel. "It's the group chat," he explains, the repeated apology apparent in his voice. You both know there is a group chat with the guys, but opening it at the table isn't his usual thing. He tries to have manners around his girlfriend's mother. "Oh shit..." Benny breathes a second later, eyes widening as he reads the texts.

“What?” Rachel looks over at Benny in concern. She knows how hard he tries to impress you and it’s rare that he’s even pulling out his phone.

"I, uh..." He's already halfway pulling the napkin out of his lap with panic on his face, and he looks up at you and Rachel but his eyes jet back down to his phone. "It's Frankie," he explains, unsure how that particular news is going to go over. "He's...my brother is over at his place. It's a SOS text."

“What is it?” Rachel’s eyes widen and she reaches for Ben. Almost ready to claw the phone from him to see for herself. Her mind has immediately started spiraling with worst case scenarios.

"The text says clean up and mission assessment," Benny tells her, although he knows that that won't make any sense to her. It's more like reassuring her that grabbing his phone won't do her any good.

"Is he okay?" You ask, wanting a much plainer and more immediate answer than whatever cryptic military text message he got.

"Safe." Benny clarifies. "That text means he needs our help, not that something has happened to him."

“I’ll go with you.” Rachel is immediately tossing down her napkin and standing. Clearing her plate so she can tidy up quickly and head out with him. It’s obviously time sensitive.

"Baby..." Benny stands too, watching Rachel's anxiety start to build very obviously. "You don't need to do that. We can take care of things. I don't even know what happened yet."

"It doesn't matter what happened." In the split second he looked away, you've stood up, too. Gathering things up on the table means you'll just throw leftovers in the fridge and wash the dishes later. "If he needs help, we're going to help him."

“Mom…are you sure?” Rachel stops and turns towards you. “You don’t have to. Everyone would understand.”

"Sweet pea, I have eighteen extra years of stubbornness on you," you remind her, never once pausing as you clear up from dinner. "We'll take two cars, I'll follow you and Ben since I don't know where I'm going."

Rachel looks over at Benny, but he’s just shaking his head and holding his hands up. Unwilling to get in the middle of that argument. “Don’t look at me.” He snorts.

"Leftovers in the fridge. Two cars. Let's go," you insist, knowing from the churning in the pit of your stomach that whatever the problem is...you're in it now. If Frankie needs help, you're going to be right there to give it to him.

“Yes ma’am.” Benny helps put away the food, clearing his own plate and grabbing his keys out of his pocket. “You can follow me.”

______

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[summercreolefanfictioner]

the scent wafts in, her name making him beg on his knees chap 5 || touya x fem!reader [modern au]

chapter summary: Touya takes a trip down memory lane, reliving all his days as a host and how it changed his world for the worse.

themes: mentions of prostitution, sex, SA, abuse, violence, etc. (YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED)

notes: this one really has heavy themes and I want you all to be aware of the warning cause yeah; oh btw this is fem! reader but all is written in 3rd POV so y/n will be referred to as "she/her"

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Touya knew about sex when he was a child, and no amount of porn and eavesdropping could make him discover this fact. It wasn't like he accidentally found a stash of porn magazines or DVDs in the house or he walked in on someone doing it. He knew about it when the adults were talking, specifically his grandparents (more like his mom's parents). They were talking about Rei having another child with Enji after Fuyumi, and that's when he heard the word he shouldn't have.

Sex.

He knew about that word when he was tasked to fill out his basic contact information, and what he knew about it was his gender. It took him a bit of searching on a random dictionary to understand what it really was, and he suddenly dropped the book as he covered his mouth in shock. The gasp he was about to let in suffocated him as he deduced things in his head and learned later on how the birth of Natsuo and Shouto changed a lot of things in his perspective.

Sex. Intercourse. Coitus. It was all a chore his parents did to bear an heir for the Endeavor Corp. But for his childish mind, they were trying to replace him, and it made him see red.

He wanted to say he was good enough to be like Enji, to be his successor. But no, Enji rejected the idea of him being the next CEO. For Enji, Touya was not good enough. He didn't need an heir who drives himself mad when he can't achieve perfection. He doesn't need an heir who shows weakness in his sleeve.

It ruined Touya that he couldn't look at relationships the same way as he entered puberty. Whenever he sees a few of his classmates dating or talking about "Hey, I stayed over at my girl's place when her parents were away" or "Well, I couldn't ignore her especially when she's being like that to me," it made him think: Relationships are a facade. Romance is a lie. Virginity is a concept they play to make themselves feel they attained innocence. Pleasure is just the side effect of it, but it's nothing.

------

He was 22 when he agreed with the manager's suggestion to have side work as a host for a club at the Red District every Monday and Friday. Honestly, he half-expected a few customers to ask for a kiss on the first try or even a hug or basically any form of physical intimacy. Surprisingly, most of them only wanted male attention, someone to talk to when they get off work or when things get stressed out, or just a harmless, casual date because they couldn't find a man that would give them the treatment they wanted.

Another thing Touya learned: he didn't have to act like he was so nice like a Prince Charming like some of the hosts do. He was just naturally there, talking when he was supposed to talk and serving them drinks like the gentleman they thought him to be. So there were no hookups or casual sex or any bookings of hotel rooms afterward.

That was until he met his regular customers that things took a downturn for him.

------

1. The one who's visibly disgusted by the man she would be marrying

Touya met her every Friday, and he already knew from the get-go that she was the typical rich daughter who went by her parents' bidding; someone who never touched bad things. Well, except that night. She decided to go to the Red District for the first time and heard about this secret host you can book. He had heard her family name somewhere, probably when he was still in high school since Enji and Rei would have the four of them attend important events. It only occurred to him then how popular she was with the way the other hosts were staring and whispering to themselves.

It was when the other hosts talked to him in the locker room and told him that she was hiding a lot from the media because apparently, she was marrying this famous celebrity producer who went after gravure models; that it was an arranged marriage and she obviously abhorred the fact that she was getting wed off to an old geezer.

When she talked to him about meeting up with her on a Saturday night at a booked hotel room, Touya already knew what she was up to. There was extra money involved, plus her promise that she wouldn't be booking his services after. The arrangement worked well with him, setting aside his personal feelings over the matter, as he had sex with her, making it seem like he knew the ropes when he clearly did not. Everything was all thanks to porn and all those gravure magazines he saw from his classmates in high school.

When she cried afterwards, something about being relieved that she didn't spend her first time with a perverted old man, that was when Touya's heart constricted with heaviness. He didn't understand what he felt back then, but after leaving the hotel, he spent away the last of his expenses drinking and smoking before returning to work like nothing.

------

2. The one whose loneliness cannot be fulfilled by her own husband

He dreaded this one regular, and he wished he told the manager that he didn't want to entertain this woman. The first time she booked Touya, he thought she was just a regular customer who wanted nothing from him until she started placing her hand on his thigh one night, and a few nights after, she asked if they could meet outside. Touya was stressed over her and her silly antics, even though she was just asking him to eat lunch at her recommended fancy restaurants and stroll around town.

Well, it wasn't like she was overly clingy or demanding; it was the fact that Touya had no idea what she had under all that nice adult woman facade. It was only when they met up at a coffee shop that she told him about her circumstances. She said, "My husband and I cannot divorce, and he knew about this arrangement and didn't mind as long as no one knew. I also don't mind since he has been sleeping with other women for as long as I can remember." This irked Touya and reminded him of his parents' arranged marriage. He knew they didn't cheat on each other, but it made him think about how the media and paparazzi painted the Todoroki family as a loving family with toothy grins and blooming flowers.

What made this situation worse for Touya was how the woman decided he meet her every weekend at her shared house with her husband. Touya had already met the man, and he knew from one look that all he cared about was knowing who his wife was sleeping with and reminding him that the two of them were only to have a sexual relationship and nothing else (not like he was looking forward to moving things further with a client anyway).

They would always have sex in the guest room assigned for them, but sometimes the wife would take a risk and have them go all the way to the master's bedroom. She would reason out that it wasn't like her husband was so faithful not to bring women there inside since she caught them before in the said room. Touya learned she was insatiable as hell and would try a lot of her fantasies on him because her husband deprived her of trying out exciting things.

Their last sex was of Touya wrapping her legs around his hips as her back hit the bathroom wall and the hot shower poured down on them. After the high, Touya told her he wouldn't be entertaining her anymore since the risk of their arrangement was catching up on him.

------

3. The one who wanted the boyfriend experience

This one was simple, and Touya kind of liked her because he was able to forget his shitty childhood and family issues. She basically became a friend in many ways, and her reason for hiring Touya was because she wanted the boyfriend experience, kind of like having a secret lover especially now that she had gone adulthood and wanted companionship. Touya wouldn't say it was fun being with her. It was just okay. She would ask him to hold hands or ruffle her hair or tell her the corniest shit that he had ever said (he was still embarrassed remembering it, but he managed to set aside his shame over her.)

It became apparent that something was amiss when she visited on a Friday night, displaying unease and nervousness, punctuating the air with sighs as he handed her the drink. He was about to speak when she blurted out, "There's a guy at work, and he said he saw me with you, and he confessed. He asked me if I wanted to date." Her face was beet red as she made a mess of her hair, probably remembering the said confession in her head. "Dabi-kun, what should I do?! Do you think I'm a good dating material?"

Touya wasn't in love with her, but the way things were happening, there was that familiar feeling again when he had sex for the first time with his first regular. That dark pit in his stomach prompted him to do something bad and run away instead of facing them properly. It was easier to drown everything

He placed the glass on the table and said, "Give it a try. You never know what might happen."

He never saw her after that, and he didn't take customers for a while. He spent his weekends drinking and smoking until he fell asleep.

------

4. The one who struggles with a husband's cuckolding kink

Touya was weirded out by this customer because usually, it was only the woman who stayed in the room waiting for him as he served them one of his best alcohol concoctions. It was on a Monday night when he had a married couple as his client. Great. Before, it was often the wife who came in here. Now, they bring their husbands into the mix, he thought bitterly as he sat on the couch. At first, it was awkward with the way the wife was trying to lighten up the mood by telling fun stories as her husband drank and watched them from the corner. Honestly, Touya could not care. At least he was getting his usual drink. If this evening turned out shitty, then so be it.

Suddenly, the husband stood up and knelt traditionally (seiza-style), bowing before Touya as he begged, "Please have sex with my wife!"

The wife went to his side as Touya stopped midway from his drink, his mood worsening as he was yet again reminded of this one regular. However, this time he thinks it is different as the wife assures him there is no need for him to kneel and beg because she can do fine without sex, which the husband is opposed to. And the two went on to discuss his cuckolding kink, how he would only get turned on and have sex with her once he was done having sex with someone else.

Touya narrowed his eyes in disgust, leaning on the couch as his cold voice cut through the conversation.

"Aren't you two being rude?"

The couple were ashamed, bowing at him for their lack of respect and quickly explaining about the matter at hand. According to the couple, they've been having problems in the sex department because of the husband's cuckolding kink, something about getting turned on by the fantasy of his wife having sex with someone. Touya obviously groaned in disgust and was about to protest, dismissing their request and not wanting to partake in their weird shenanigan, something about the charade setting him off even further than before. The husband wanted him to have sex with his wife just so he could take her afterward. How revolting. Why did the manager let them in this place?

"This will only happen once, please!" The husband added. "We will make a formal contract." Then he gave him his business card. "You can call me if you change your mind."

Of course, Touya doesn't call him. He doesn't care. He will do the usual. Yeah, he tells himself this as he realizes he needs more stash of money so he can live for the next month (not like he was running out; he was just being careful.) So he finally succumbs to temptation and calls the man up, meeting them in a fancy restaurant as Touya read through the contents of the contract.

The contract was fair and just for all parties, though. For one, the husband will not watch or record Touya and his wife having sex or any act similar to the matter. It also indicated that this would only be a one-time thing between the three of them and Touya will be paid a hefty amount on the same day the act will commence. Touya also added a few things in the agreement, which included no BDSM or anything similar and that he would not be doing any acts that would "impregnate" the wife (since a few of his customers before liked the idea of breeding, and he didn't love it.)

When all was said and done, Touya got into the business and did everything like how he did before, masking all his emotions and pretending there was so much pleasure and thrill in embracing another man's wife when there wasn't. It was vile even, knowing that the husband was willing for his wife to be disrespected just so he could give her the love she deserved. The worst part? She liked touching him, hugging him close as he thrust even further, or kissing his lips like she owned him. Touya wanted to push her away and tell her, this was just sex and she was crossing some sort of boundary. Then again, she was a customer. It's not like he hadn't been paid to give a kiss before.

Afterwards, he took a shower and left without a word, carrying the check with a large sum as he headed to the bank that day. Touya slept that night convincing himself everything was a nightmare; a horrible shit he went through because he needed to survive.

------

5. The one who likes sharing everything with her bestfriend

Touya had been hearing stories from other hosts about some customers booking them together and having awesome threesomes, that there was no greater feeling in the world than having more than one woman with you in bed. He wished he had the same sentiment because honestly, he doesn't find what's so fun about threesomes. It was tiring and disgusting beyond means, and he still couldn't fathom the fact of sharing a lover with another in bed. Gross. Gross. GROSS.

But he had to experience it because of two women; one, a sultry vixen who believes the world is in the palm of her hands, the other an alluring shadow of her own existence competing to be in the spotlight. The first one meets Touya every Monday and the other on Fridays, and he could see a recurring pattern in the way they both lead conversations. The vixen liked herself so much, and it was apparent. So apparent Touya could even bring a tall mirror and face it on her so she would brag about how this one guy tried to seduce him at the bar a few nights ago or when her co-worker's boyfriend tried to date her in secret. She would even mention being scouted as a model but rejected all offers as she wanted to be an IT developer.

On the other hand, her bestfriend was shy but nonetheless had this air of confidence. Touya could even remember how one of the staff members asked him about her because the guy genuinely was attracted to the way she was so elegant and dainty. Her posture screamed princess vibes as she held her glass of champagne and talked to Touya about her modeling job. Touya could even tolerate this one better than the other as she wasn't being a bitch when they have an actual conversation (because he swore he dreaded every Monday seeing her).

Until one time, the two of them asked him to have sex with each of them on different days as a part of his off-duty job. Touya was already guessing, "They're gonna invite me to a threesome soon" because the way they had sex with him was always "Did she do this to you?" or "Am I more fun than her?" like they were openly comparing themselves to each other to him. And he knew they talked about it. There was no doubt.

And they did. They invited him because they shared things with each other. Because they liked the same guys. They hated the same guys. They loved the same things. They also hated the same things. They're twins from different mothers, and Touya only wished that this whole shit would go down the drain and this would be the last he would have them, thrusting up and down as the two women ground their pussies on his shaft. Their throaty moans were getting mixed in, and he bit his lip to hide his moan because there was no way he liked this. He hated this. Hated everything with every fiber of his being.

After the whole stint, Touya finally handed in his resignation letter and left. He was tired of pleasing people; weary from all this nasty chore he had been doing for the sake of living in hell.

------

Touya later learns that love and sex can coexist. When he encountered his (only) ex-girlfriend while working as a bartender at Shigaraki's bar, he found himself perplexed about how to navigate this new dynamic. They initially started as smoking buddies in the back of the building, exchanging crude jokes until they eventually exchanged phone numbers. He genuinely enjoyed spending time with her, but eventually, their connection faded into nothing.

Fun. It was what they only had next to nothing.

Her name was Ruka, and she had her long dark hair dyed blonde as she dressed in the same black outfits as him but feminine. She was all guts and foul curses, her red lips smirking teasingly. He knew from the moment they put a label on what they were that she would expect a lot from him as her boyfriend. Dates. Movies. Late-night talks. Smoking and drinking together. Hugging. Holding hands. Having sex. Touya tried his best to be the boyfriend she wanted even though he had zero idea of how to be one, and he believed at the time it was because they were dating. It turned out to him that he was simply repeating the same train of thought.

Dating is a chore. Sex is a chore. Relationships are nothing but a chore.

He was simply doing everything out of responsibility, not fully caring about himself or how Ruka would feel. He was a tad selfish that they fought a lot and he didn't swallow his pride or compromise even. He would go about his way proving his point and if he didn't, he would slam the door and leave for days, spending his nights at the bar and making it his new home. Ruka also held her pride so high she didn't even find him or apologize, and they would fall into this toxic pattern of seeing each other again after a few weeks then making out and having sex and brushing everything under the rug because emotions are getting into the way of their fun. There was no way they were ruining whatever this relationship was for a sappy one-on-one of calling each other out and promising to do better.

Touya didn't change, and he grew tired of being her dream boyfriend. He still leaves his clothes on the floor. He doesn't tell her where he went. He never goes the mile to update her. He drops by her space whenever he wanted to despite her telling him to just move in. He ghosts her and then comes back like nothing.

He was being pathetic, and she was being overbearing. She cries, thinking he will relent when he sees her tears. It doesn't change his mind though. He just gets worse. They would throw things at each other and curse. They would raise their middle fingers. They would throw hands and he'd give a punch in exchange for her slaps and hits.

Touya just left and never came back after.

------

"She was a lot different," Touya mentioned his girlfriend (the current one he thinks about so often) again to his therapist. "I know I told you this before, but the first time we did it, everything just made sense."

He didn't know how. He just felt it. It all came full circle. That morning had him almost running in fear, scared at the thought of going deeper with her because he knew he would hurt her. He will not give her whatever she wants. Those dreamy things from romance mangas? Those corny lines from romantic movies with sappy storylines? Consider them all trashed. There was no way he would give in.

But Touya will stay around. He knew to himself that he would die the moment this shit was all over; that she had changed her mind and wanted those romantic stints from the screens. But staying around didn't do it for him—especially for her. Just because he stayed around didn't mean he got what he wanted. He loved her, so, so much; yet she was sleeping with a man who's a figment of his own false identity. It was toying him upside down, especially with the way she looked at him with adoration and pure sincerity when he knew it wasn't really him.

"I want her to love me," he stressed out. "Only me."

next chap

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[kanmom51]

Jikook in Japan November 2023

What we have so far.

First thing first, I want to thank all of you for your good wishes in the comments to my last post. I did miss you guys, and I'm hopefully on the mend, if not fully there yet.

So, JM and JK in Japan. Do we all see just how big that is? We know just how important their trip was in 2018, they told us all about it ever since. And now we have them travelling to Japan again, one last trip before enlistment. Together. They spend time in Tokyo (we know cause they flew into Tokyo - great detective work going on here - and the pics that JM posted on his IG - and I'll get to that soon too). But they are also travelled to Sapporo, where they are right now. Sapporo, where this happened back in 2016, just to remind you all.

Anyways, let's go back a sec to their departure. Cause why not, really?

As they walked into the terminal JM signalling JK to come in closer to him.

And after going through the departure doors while waiting for their security check.

Same same...

JM came to us last night posting on IG with two "my boyfriend too my photo" pics.

Are they doing a walk down memory lane? Is JM sending us down memory lane? I mean, let's get real here. They know. They see it all. They knew about the threats and hate preceding their trip, they know about Jikookers talking up this trip, Jikookers love of GCFT. And in saying that, was his choice of pics posted just random or purposeful? My bet is on the latter. Everything JM does is thought out. That is, until he has JK standing right in front of him. That's when he loses control, lol. And that, my friends, is why JM is unwilling (and probably rightfully so, as hard as this is for me to admit) to go live with JK. I kind of think that JK realised the same of late, after that live tiddy grab, lol.

JM posted at 11:44 pm or 23:44 pm. And here are the numbers.

I'm done with "it's a coincidence", cause it is not. It wasn't when JK started lives at 11:08. It wasn't when JK posted his letter to Army at 6:13. And it's not now either. At this point that's what I believe. Take it or leave it.

And just incase those that saw them leaving for Japan and are still struggling to come to terms that perhaps the two are literally travelling together, we had someone that saw them together in said restaurant eating together, sitting at a table for 2 (and not for the lack of bigger tables available at the restaurant).

We also saw the two leaving for Sapporo. Of course, again, said very 'nice' - NOT - people having a field day with them not caught in one frame on their way out of Tokyo.

And I guess just for these 'nice' people's benefit (not really, but am I a bad petty person for being glad they got this right in their faces??) we had the two arriving in Sapporo TOGETHER.

Also looks familiar.

And did I mention the matchy matchy grey coloured sweatshirts?

At this point nothing surprises me anymore.

So Sapporo. A winter paradise. A city known for it's beer and breweries. The city that recognized same sex marriages. A known couples destination.

There have been sightings. And they are mostly keeping the information to themselves at the moment, seeing that the two are still in Japan. But, point being the two aren't hiding it. They are out in the open, together, enjoying themselves.

I know that they are having the time of their lives.

I know they are creating cherished memories for years to come.

I know that they are and will be happy!!!

I know that.

[oozebrain]

Idk if you accept these types of things, but if you do, art x reader who’s birthday is on Halloween?

Perhaps he throws them a “party” (it’s just him probably lol) with “streamers” and “balloons” (various body parts)

If you don’t do these things, apologies!

Hello hello!! Happy birthday!! I hope it's been a great day for you! Thank you for this awesome idea and I hope you enjoy!

Circus Circus

Art x Reader. It's your birthday and Art's here to help you celebrate it! Fluff and Art being a magician.

This time of year always unnerved you a bit. Getting older, looking to the future, and reflecting on decade old memories that felt like they’d just happened yesterday. However, the weight of the groceries as you heave them from the ground halt your trip down memory lane. You fiddle with your keys as you struggle to unlock the door, groceries in hand. It would be nice if your roommate would help you. He is the one who sent you out to get all of this, after all.

Finally you thud into the door and manage to unlock it. You stumble in and come to an abrupt halt as you catch yourself from falling into the hallway. Something is strange though: Art isn’t on his usual spot on the couch. He’s no where to be found, actually.

“Art?” You call out, heaving the grocery bags off your arms as you set them down in the kitchen. You set the bags down and strain your ears in the silence. Nothing. You hear no sawing or hammering, no crunching of bone or slurping of marrow. Now you were concerned and call out again, “Art?”

He isn’t in the kitchen, the living room. The bedroom door was shut how you left it... that left only one room. Tentatively, you reach for the bathroom door and ease it open. Peering inside, you see nothing. The room is faintly illuminated by the privacy window above the shower, but aside from that, you see nothing. But the shower curtain is closed.

You hesitated, but you knew you were going to get the shit scared out of you either way. If he was there, you were going to get scared. But if he wasn’t, you were going to be terrified. Your hand lingers over the shower curtain and, like a lightning strike, he was there. 

Art ripped the shower curtain opened and held his mouth open like an angler fish, his body cast in a faint red shadow from the window above. Naturally, you startle and awkwardly flail at him in instinctual defense. He laughs at you, mimicking your fear with comical theatrics then pointing at you. 

Your heart was still pounding but you could finally laugh along with him. He holds your gaze a moment before raising his eyebrows and looking at you incredulously, motioning to the object in his hand. He presented it as though it were an object of wonder and awe.

You had been so scared you hadn’t even noticed what he was holding. It was too dark to see, and as if knowing, he strikes a match against his teeth and sets the small object alight. It was a candle, and slowly its warm light captured the two of you. It was a cupcake, messily frosted with way too many sprinkles and topped with a cherry. 

It was perfect.

You feel the corners of your lips blossom into a smile, your cheeks straining to contain the happiness you feel in this moment. You open your mouth to speak but he holds his finger to his lips in a shushing motion. He motions for you to step to the side and he exits the bathtub, cupping his hand over the flickering candle so it would not go out. 

Art sways his head to the side, nodding for you to follow and you oblige. He takes you to the bedroom, pauses for dramatic effect, and swings the door open. Inside is a wonderland.

There are so many string lights you don’t know where to begin. Various types of fairy lights, outdoor lights, and even garland are strung all over your room. You step inside and gaze at all the twinkling lights that had been so carefully strung hither and yon, seemingly without reason. 

There were also dozens of carved pumpkins scattered around the room, ranging from simple jack o lanterns to more detailed carvings. Some also depicted the pumpkin’s brutal death, one having a hatchet buried in it with its “entrails” spilling out of the wound.

He did all this while you were gone? The more you looked the more you noticed. Fake spiders, a piñata shaped like skeleton (that you would strike with caution), and your bed was covered in candy. It really was like a wonderland. But…

Why were there six bloody trick or treat buckets piled in the corner?

With a yelp you startle. There was a sudden pop and Art was once again laughing at you. He set several more confetti poppers off, the smell of sulphur lingering in the air, and mounds of tissue paper confetti littering the floor. He hands you a popper and naturally you set it off. He applauds silently before reaching for your ear. From it, he withdraws a small package.

It is wrapped in newspaper with what appear to be stains of some bodily origin. You should be repulsed but you had gotten used to Art’s eccentricities... for the most part.

Art patted your back, nearly knocking you down as he didn’t realize his own strength. Despite nearly toppling over, the pat was reassuring, its comforting presence resonating in your chest and spreading out like the roots of a plant. He smiled down at you and motioned for you to open the present.

Opening presents from Art was a game of chance. Sometimes it was an interesting rock he found, or perhaps an insect. Other times it was the jaw of someone who had minorly inconvenienced you. You gulp and wonder what kind of surprise you’ll unwrap.

Carefully, you tear away the paper. So far nothing has bitten you, so thankfully it’s either inanimate or something dead. You continue to tear but you just peel through layers of paper like an onion’s skin. It seems never ending and gradually you wind it down until it’s the size of an acorn. It is an acorn.

You look at it and smile. You love acorns, not enough to really warrant such effort on his behalf, but you appreciate it nonetheless. But something is off. He’s looking at you like he has a secret, but what is it?

With dramatic enthusiasm, he takes the acorn from you and twists the top off. Art nods for you to peer inside and you see its empty. The little seed has been hollowed out to be a container but there was nothing inside. You look up to Art and he feigns surprise, his eyebrows raising and mouth forming into a large O as he animates your confusion. 

He gives an eyebrow waggle, smiles, and makes a pinching motion into the acorn. From it he begins to withdrawal something, something much too large to be stuffed inside an acorn. He continues pulling and gradually the distorted object comes into view. It’s...

A teddy bear!! The size of you! It even has a bow wrapped around it’s neck. Though the bow is torn, stained with blood, and has a human fingernail embedded in it, you still love it all the same. If anything, the garish details just make it uniquely Art. You give the bear a hug and your companion taps your shoulder, seeking attention, which you gladly give.

He points at the candle hurriedly, his frantic pointing professing it was about to go out. Quickly, you conjure up a wish in your head and blow out the candle, leaving the two of you delicately illuminated among thousands of man-made stars scattered around. The streamers above are a radiant red, aglow and... bleeding? 

Art grabs your attention by tapping the end of your nose affectionately. He smiles down at you and plumes his hands out, imitating fireworks and mouthing ‘happy birthday’ to you voicelessly. 

You love the bear, but there is something you want more than anything. You lean into him, bear still in arms, as he envelops you. The brimstone in his chest pounds furiously as you soak up his warmth. He sways with you slightly, slowly waltzing in place to music that only he could hear. 

You smile against his chest and sway with him, closing your eyes and basking in the moment. By the lion’s roar emanating from his chest and buzzing against your ear, you knew he was basking all the same.

[padfootagain]

Love in Verses (III)

Chapter 3 : ‘I miss him in the wheeping of the rain; I want him at the shrinking of the tide’

Hi, everyone!!! Here is another chapter! Break up is rough, angst is everywhere!

I hope you like this series! Tell me what you think!

****

Pairing: Hozier x fem!reader (professor!AU)

Warnings: slow burn, angst, hurt, hurt/comfort, tooth-rotting fluff in later chapters, some scenes in later chapters will have heavy sexual themes even if it’s not explicit nsfw description, so minors here

Summary: Your life seems perfect. You're engaged, your career is thriving as you become an assistant professor at Trinity College, and this Andrew Hozier-Byrne you're sharing an office with seems to be a nice guy you hope to call a friend soon. Life seems to be smiling at you... until everything goes sour. When your fiancé breaks up with you, your perfect world shatters. And when your colleague also gets his heart broken soon after, your shared office seems to be a curse rather than a blessing. But Andrew seems determined to mend your broken hearts... Will things finally go according to plan?

Word Count: 3954

Masterlist for the series – Hozier’s masterlist – Main masterlist

Time does not bring relief; you all have lied   Who told me time would ease me of my pain!   I miss him in the weeping of the rain;   I want him at the shrinking of the tide; The old snows melt from every mountain-side,   And last year’s leaves are smoke in every lane;   But last year’s bitter loving must remain Heaped on my heart, and my old thoughts abide.   There are a hundred places where I fear   To go,—so with his memory they brim.   And entering with relief some quiet place   Where never fell his foot or shone his face   I say, “There is no memory of him here!”   And so stand stricken, so remembering him.

Edna St. Vincent Millay, Collected poems, 1938

You woke up in an empty bed.

Your alarm rang, it was time to get up and go to work. There was no one else on the other side of the mattress, nobody else’s warmth beneath the sheets. There was still Frank’s scent everywhere though, but no item left on his bedside table. You got up, took a shower where his shampoo and bodywash had disappeared, his toothbrush and razor missing by the sink. None of his clothes were left, and the thought suddenly struck you that he couldn’t have packed all of his things in the hour he stayed the previous night. Where had he left anyway? He must have planned everything…

You were so overwhelmed with emotion that you weren’t even sure what you were feeling, in the end. Hurt, anger, loss, shock, denial… God, you couldn’t believe that this was truly happening…

You looked down at your left hand, and your engagement ring was still there, on your finger, where it belonged. None of this was real, it was a mistake, a dream, a prank even… but it couldn’t be real.

How could Frank be gone? And if he was… what on earth was this story of his about a woman he had just met, a woman he barely knew? He was ready to throw away the past six years for a stranger? Was that truly all you meant to him?

This was a mistake, clearly. Frank was making a mistake. Perhaps he was stressed with his job, maybe he was freaking out because of the wedding. Whatever it was, he would realise soon that he was acting on an impulse, out of all logic, and he would come back to his senses. He ought to…

… he ought to, because how could you live without him? You had forgotten how to do it.

Andrew sent a text to Samantha, as he did every morning. He was late, as per usual. He almost tripped on Elwood, while the dog was stretching in the middle of the hallway, rushing as he did to get his coat. He checked in his pockets.

Phone, yes.

Keys, yes.

Wallet, yes.

Glasses were upon his nose, he had his bag thrown over his shoulder with his laptop, a water bottle, a thermos and…

He rolled his eyes, cursed under his breath.

An empty thermos. That’s what he had forgotten to do this morning, prepare himself some coffee or tea. Never mind, Andrew would prepare something at work, he didn’t have the time.

Anyway, the list…

An empty thermos, the article he had brought from work last night, the book of poetry he was currently studying…

He pressed ‘send’ on the screen of his smartphone, spotting a spelling mistake before he could close the app, but he didn’t have time to correct it.

Good morning, love. Hopng for a good day for you. Are you planning on dropping by tonight?

… A notebook, a couple of pencils, a hair tie. Wait, did he have a hair tie? Yes, around his wrist, of course, bloody idiot…

He petted Elwood’s head, told him to be a good boy, and hurried outside.

During his drive, he thought about Samantha, wondered if her meetings had gone well the previous day. She hadn’t sent him a text to tell him she was safely home, but upon receiving no news and no answer to his calls, he had called her friend Jess, who had told him she was indeed home, safe and sound. She was probably just drunk and had gone to bed, forgetting to text him. As long as she was safe, Andrew didn’t really mind, but he had been worried about her. He made a mental note to remind her to text him the next time she went out.

He heaved a sigh, turning up the volume of the music, letting Duke Ellington and John Coltrane fill up the space around him. A sentimental mood started playing, he felt all his muscles relax as the saxophone sang.

His mind wandered with the airy notes, jumping from Sam, to work, to you. He was happy to see you today, to ask about your work at lunchtime. You would probably have thought about your classes during the evening, would have a lot of things to discuss over a salad or a sandwich at noon. He smiled at the thought as he parked his car at Trinity.

He checked the time on his watch before leaving his car. He was late, although he had no meeting nor class to give. But he had hoped to be in his office by nine o’clock, and it was almost nine thirty. Where did these thirty minutes go? God, he really was a terrible time-keeper…

He hurried through the university grounds, left empty by the summer, students enjoying a well-deserved rest. There was still a little bit of dew wetting the grass, making it shine with pearly specs of light. The sky was a mix of blue and cotton-white, as if it pondered for now on whether to give Dublin a sunny day or a rainy one. Andrew paid little attention to those details, hurrying towards his work, his head already busy with all he had to do. He stopped by the cafeteria before heading to his office to prepare himself some coffee, filling up his thermos. He took a sip of the too-warm beverage as he exited the room, walked down a corridor, burning his tongue a little in the process. He cursed under his breath at the feeling.

He heaved a sigh, hurried towards the staircase and climbed all the way up to your shared office, a smile back on his lips as he thought of seeing you. Maybe this day had not started in the best way, but you would greet him in just a moment with your usual enthusiasm, and it would make him feel happy again. He hurried down the corridor leading to the wooden door that sported both of your names, engraved in copper.

When he opened the door, you were there, indeed. You were focused on your computer screen, didn’t seem to notice that Andrew had come in. He smiled at you anyway.

“Morning, Y/N,” he greeted you with warmth, making you finally look up at him.

“Oh… morning, Andrew,” you gave him a polite smile, right before focusing on your screen again.

The gesture was tight-lipped, professional. He frowned at the sight, blinked a couple of times before finally putting his thermos down on his desk and his bag on the ground by the side of his desk.

“You’re alright this morning?” he asked, trying to hide that his question was genuine behind a neutral tone.

“Sure. You?”

“Yeah, yeah… all grand.”

You didn’t look up, merely stared at your screen. He noticed that your eyes were red, that you seemed tired. He wondered if anything wrong had happened for you to act so cold. But then again, you were colleagues, had been for less than a week. Perhaps you were always like that. Now that the excitement of the first days was over, maybe you were just falling back into your normal character, turning professional rather than friendly. And it was alright, of course. You were colleagues. As long as you would both get along fine together, you didn’t need to be anything more.

Still, Andrew couldn’t refrain the feeling of disappointment that washed over him.

You remained quiet for the rest of the morning, and so did he. He was focused on his work, you were struggling to keep your eyes away from your phone, glancing regularly at the device propped on your desk, right by your side.

When it was finally time for lunch, Colm came knocking on the door of your office, without waiting for an invitation to come in.

“Well, hello, busy bees! Time to eat! I’m starved!” he proclaimed, making Andrew chuckle as he got up.

You didn’t move from your seat, merely granted Colm another one of your polite smiles.

“Erm… you’re eating with us, Y/N?” Andrew offered, putting on his jacket.

“Thanks for offering! But I’m really not hungry today.”

“You’re sick?” Colm asked, crossing his arms before his chest. “I know it’s your first week, but if you’re sick you can just go home. No need to act all brave and tough just to gain points towards… nobody, really.”

“No, no… it’s not that at all. I’m not sick, just… not hungry.”

“As you wish…” Colm shrugged, turning towards Andrew, who didn’t seem convinced by your explanation at all.

“Come on, Treebeard! I’m starving!”

“You’re sure you’re okay?” Andrew asked you, ignoring Colm for a moment.

But you nodded, the same neutral smile on your lips. You seemed sad, upset even.

“Sure, I’m alright.”

Andrew nodded, giving up. He was a mere colleague to you, after all. He wasn’t your friend, surely something was wrong but it was perfectly normal for you not to want to discuss it with him. Still, he forced himself to walk out of the room, guilt tugging at his heart.

Andrew ended up eating with several colleagues, and he had a nice time. He checked his phone, but Sam had not replied to his text yet. He started making assumptions, worrying about her all over again. He admonished himself for being such a worrier, for not being able to let go. She had had too much to drink, she was probably dealing with a hangover, nothing more, nothing to worry about… Besides, how hypocritical of him it would be to get angry because she wasn’t answering right away, when he was terrible at managing texts and emails himself. He too often forgot about a text he had left on read, being busy when he received it, only to remember to reply days later. He didn’t do that for Sam, though…

He walked back up the stairs with Colm and Ronan, who worked at the IT department and turned left instead of right to go back to his own office. A nice guy, commented Colm, they ought to hang out with him more often. Besides, it was always a good idea to have someone good with computers close by. The remark made Andrew chuckle, while he let Colm reach his own office. Andrew was alone again as he opened the wooden door of your shared working space.

He was quiet as the door slid open, and you weren’t. Over the noise of your own conversation you were having over the phone, you didn’t notice as Andrew was walking in, closing the door behind him. You were facing the window behind your desk.

“Frank… you can’t be serious about this.”

Frank. Andrew recognised the name. He was your partner. Perhaps the two of you had a row…

He was taking off his jacket already, but stopped before he would finish his movement. Perhaps he should just tiptoe out of the office. You didn’t seem to have noticed him, and this was clearly a personal conversation that he had no business hearing.

“What do you mean you’ve taken your decision?! Have you taken a minute to actually think?! We’ve spent six years together! Yes! No! Yes, you’re right, I’m not accepting your ‘decision’, because it makes no fucking sense! Look… just… let’s meet up tomorrow, and discuss things, okay? Are you chickening out because of the wedding?”

Andrew silently slid his jacket back on his shoulders, pulled his hair from under the collar, and slowly walked back towards the door.

“Frank, this is ridiculous… it makes no sense…”

Your voice broke, Andrew ached at the pain it was revealing.

“No, I don’t want to!”

Andrew had almost reached the door when the tiles under his feet cracked, and you spun around in a jolt. He gave you an apologetic smile, but remained frozen under your stare.

“Frank, I’ve got to go, babe. Just… please, think about what you’re doing, okay? And we need to discuss this properly, face to face.”

Your face fell, he saw that you were about to cry, before you pulled your phone away from your ear, stared at the screen with a blank stare.

“Y/N? You’re alright?” Andrew asked, staring at you, at how distressed you looked.

You blinked up at him, put your phone down on your desk. And then you shook your head, covered your mouth with your hand, and started crying. Or sobbing, rather. Andrew stared for a second with round eyes, not knowing what to do.

His first reaction was to hold you, and so he took a couple of steps towards you, but then he remembered that you were colleagues, that you barely knew each other, that it would be inappropriate for him to touch you in any way. So, he stopped abruptly, stared at you some more.

“Y/N?”

You stared at each other for a moment, while your sobbing got worse, and Andrew was thinking of what he should do. But then, you were the one to circle your desk, and basically let yourself fall into his arms. He caught you easily, held you in a tight hug.

“Hey… what’s going on? You’re alright? What’s wrong?” he asked, making his voice even softer than it usually was, rubbing soothingly your back.

You were shaking in his arms, holding on his jacket like your life depended on it.

“Frank is breaking…up… up with me,” you explained, your cries making you stutter, choking on your breathing.

Andrew clenched his jaw, held you a little tighter.

“God… I’m sorry, Y/N.”

“It’s just… out of nowhere… we’re engaged! He says… he says he’s met someone else… but he… he doesn’t know her! They met… like… just a few weeks ago… who does that?!”

“I don’t know, Y/N. I don’t know…”

“What am I going to do now?”

He let you cry for a few more minutes, supporting your weight as your legs seemed too weak to fully carry you, rubbing soothing circles into your back, your head buried in his chest.

“Why don’t you go home, Y/N? Huh? You should go home, get some rest.”

But you shook your head, suddenly breaking free from his embrace.

“No, no… I need to work…”

“You’re not going to get anything done, anyway. It’s alright. Just… go home. Go home, and rest. You’ll come back on Monday morning, once you’ve sorted this out.”

You blinked up at him, dried your cheeks on your sleeves.

“I’m sorry…”

“There’s no need to apologise. Just go home, get some rest. You’re upset, being here will do nothing to make you feel better. We don’t have classes yet, you can work at home if you want to.”

You nodded, but sat back at your computer all the same.

“I’ll leave early.”

“Alright.”

“It’s… It’s better if I don’t think about this, anyway.”

“I understand…”

“I… I’m sorry I hugged you like that…”

“No need to apologise. It’s fine. You’re upset, it’s okay.”

“I… I’m sorry if I’m a little off today…”

“Y/N… I reckon that it’s normal for you to ‘be off’ today. I’m the one who’s sorry. I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, in fact… I was about to walk out again, like… erm… but you heard me before I could…”

“You could have knocked.”

“It’s my office.”

Slowly, you nodded.

“Yeah, right… it’s okay…”

“Do you… want to talk about it?”

But you shook your head.

“It’s better if I focus on something else. Besides, I’m sure you don’t want to be bothered with my personal life.”

He nodded, not saying anything else while he took off his jacket, threw it on the back of his chair and sat down behind his desk.

When he looked up at you, you were still crying, although you were doing so in silence, drying your eyes and cheeks quickly, in an attempt to hide it.

Andrew wanted to hold you again, until you would stop crying for real.

Elwood wasn’t supposed to climb on the couch, but Andrew had such a soft spot for his dog that this rule had been neglected for a long time. Instead, he let his dog lie by his side on the sofa while he watched tv, a beer in his hand, Elwood’s head lying on his laps in search for infinite scratches. And Andrew was happy to comply and offer all the petting his dog desired.

Stallone was suffering of post-traumatic stress on screen, hiding near a village after coming back from war with nothing, but Andrew wasn’t really paying attention to Rambo’s pain. Instead, he let his mind wander off to other places, to worries and lists of things to do. He thought of you, hoped that you would be fine, that you would sort things out with the man you loved. He thought about the article he needed to read the next day, the poems he wanted to select and discuss in his class about Yeats. He thought about the notebook that sat in his office at home, that had remained closed for the past few months, how he couldn’t find any reason to write these days, how he missed being able to produce poetry. It used to quieten his busy head for a while, he grieved for the easy cure, the temporary emotional relief creating provided for him. But then again, things were a little off with Sam these days. He could feel her drifting away sometimes, didn’t feel that they were as close as they used to. They would overcome it, of course, they always did. But what worried him most was that he didn’t know the reason behind it. Especially the past few weeks. She didn’t seem to make much efforts to be with him, to show interest in him. He wasn’t sure if it came from outside, may it be work or family, or if it came from inside their relationship. Perhaps he wasn’t paying enough attention, perhaps he had said something without realising it could be hurtful to her…

Anyway, they were drifting apart, and Andrew couldn’t write. He hadn’t written a single poem in two months, the longest time he had spent not writing at all since his teenage years. He felt kind of lost without that routine, the anchor it provided.

Sam had not answered to his texts today, he was worried. He knew she was alright, he had asked her friend again this afternoon, and Sam had been to work as per usual. It wasn’t like her to simply ghost him, though, that was new.

He would have been lying had he pretended that it didn’t make him angry. He didn’t reckon that he was being too much, crossing boundaries or anything of the kind by asking her to reply, when he just wanted to make sure she was alright. He clenched his jaw at the thought, tried not to let anger win, but he couldn’t help it. She was always complaining about his lack of communication skills, but she was pulling stunts like this? Andrew was far from perfect in that area, he knew it, he tried to make efforts about it, but he had never ghosted her for an entire day.

There was something wrong, and Andrew dreaded to find out what it could be.

Andrew jumped when he heard a knock on the door. Elwood felt his sudden rush of fear, barked in response.

“Shh, it’s alright, boy,” Andrew petted Elwood’s head before standing and walking to the door.

His eyes grew round in surprise as he found Sam on his doorstep.

“Babe? What are you doing here? It’s almost midnight…”

“I… I wanted to see you.”

His heart grew warm at her words, but he was still angry because of her silence. He let her in anyway.

“You’re alright? You didn’t answer me at all since yesterday morning,” Andrew said, trying to maintain a neutral tone.

“Yeah, I know. I’m sorry… I was just… busy…”

“What’s wrong? You seem upset?”

“Long day…”

She walked to the kitchen, paid no mind to Elwood as he watched her pass by, sniffed at her jeans, before heading back towards Andrew. The dog followed him around as he walked to the kitchen as well.

Andrew internally debated whether he should start a fight or not, about her silence, about the unanswered texts, about the fact that he was worried sick…

“How was your day, Andy?”

A simple question, Andrew was surprised to be stunned by it. It was a perfectly normal question, one he asked her every day, one she used to ask him. But then, he realised he was surprised because she had stopped asking about his day years ago…

“Erm… fine,” he answered, blinking at her, pushing his resentment to the side for a moment.

He looked at her fidgeting with his kettle, with a mug she had taken from the cabinet above her head. She seemed nervous, distressed even. Perhaps she was summoning up the courage to talk about whatever was bothering her. So, Andrew answered, instead of arguing.

“I… My day was fine. Got a lot of work done, ate with Colm and Ronan, which was nice. I’ve started narrowing down my list of poems I want to talk about for this new class about Yeats I’ll be teaching this year, made some historical research for it too. I’m worried about Y/N, though.”

“Really?”

“Yeah… her fiancé broke up with her last night. She’s devastated.”

He saw how Sam tensed at his words, turned her head slightly in his direction.

“Really?”

“Hmm… they had been together for several years, were engaged and everything. She was upset, like… really upset. I hope they can fix things, she seems to love him a lot. And apparently, it was very sudden too. Which only made things worse. She truly didn’t see it coming. God, can you imagine? Your long-time partner just… dropping a bomb on you like that? Without any warning? She didn’t want to talk about it, I don’t know exactly what happened, but… something so unexpected like that….”

He saw Sam struggling to swallow, saw the fear and the hesitation in her eyes, even though she wasn’t looking at him. He walked over to her, folded his long arms around waist, pressing her back to his chest, kissed her head.

“Anyway, how are you? Are you okay, baby? Why didn’t you tell me you were home last night, I was worried sick…”

“I’m sorry, I just… I’m a little off today.”

“Yeah, I can see that. What happened?”

She hesitated, but then she shook her head, and he could tell that she was changing her answer, that she was hiding something from him.

“Just…” she stopped, stared at the empty mug in front of her. “Do you think that could happen to us?”

“What?”

“What happened to your colleague… do you think that could happen to us?”

Andrew’s heart started pounding, but he didn’t show it. He didn’t show the panic rising in his chest at the thought, he merely tightened protectively his hold on her instead.

“Of course, not. We’ve always been through every issue we’ve had, every row, every hard time. We’ll be fine, babe. We’re always fine.”

She didn’t relax per say, but Sam heaved a sigh, shook her head, turned in his arms to hug Andrew tight.

“You’re right. That’s silly…”

“Babe, what’s going on? What’s wrong?”

But she shook her head, closing her eyes as she buried her face in his t-shirt.

“Nothing. Nothing important. I’m sorry I was so off today.”

“I love you, Sam.”

She opened her mouth to answer, but seemed to change her mind right before speaking. “I know, Andy. I know.”

[writingstoraes]

begin again 🌷 (split pt. 3)

pairing: charles leclerc/fem!reader

type: instagram imagine, social media au

notes: the long awaited part 3! this took so long only cause i had no idea how i want it to go lol anyway i hope u guys love this one :D lmk what u think!

about: almost a year after your split with charles, fans take a trip down memory lane and wondering why the two of you seemed to have watered things down after soft launching other people months ago. a bunch of rumors also set twt crazy along with speculations at your paddock appearance where you apparently support ferrari.

read: part 1, part 2 (can read on its own, but the parts provide context hehe)

yourusername

liked by isahernaez, lilymhe, landonorris, and 231,298 others

yourusername back at the happiest place on earth ❤️

lilymhe Have fun, love xo

yourbff Looking that good just to watch a race????

tyretactics QUEEN I ALWAYS LOOK FORWARD TO YOU EVERY RACE

charliez1655 miss mam twt is on fire we all miss you 😪

leclercsluv wdym shes almost always at every race ricciardoshooey no they meant w charles lol

yourusername recently added to her instagram story!

Now playing: Charles Leclerc, 2023 Austrian GP, Post-Sprint Shootout Interviews

yourusername

liked by yourbff, lilymhe, carlossainz55, and 210,593 others

yourusername on a wednesday, in a cafe, i watched it begin again

lecslover looking GOOD AS HELL QUEEN

sainzplaylist god shes back to the man shes been soft launching i think i am going to be: sick

1655lecs that might be charles, we don't know 🙏 sainzplaylist yeah i think its time we let that go lol

wagsqueens mam im sorry wym by begin again???

charles_leclerc

liked by pierregasly, finemidnights, carlossainz55, and 982,221 others

charles_leclerc It's nice to have a friend 🌅

tyreexpert u cant tell me thats not y/n 😪 she's his friend after all...

joris__trouche Looking sharp!

lecssainz16 war is over you guys theyre back at it i am in my acceptance stage now

Some months later...

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, pierregasly, lilymhe, and 756,293 others

yourusername i am and willl always be your number one fan. words cannot encapsulate how proud i am of you; truly, you deserve all of this and so much more. congratulations, my love ❤️

it's nice to see you running towards me again :)

ps. yes we've been soft-launching each other the past months hahaha

leclercfan AM I DREAMING SOMEONE PINCH ME

livwatchraces i screamed when i saw you guys on the screen!!!

carlossainz55 Aaand they're back 🎉

charles_leclerc Thanks, number one shipper

charles_leclerc

liked by landonorris, maxverstappen, arthurleclerc, and 1,982,384 others

charles_leclerc Sunshine in human form.

A few months ago, I started hanging on to the fact that in good faith and in good time, things will eventually work its way out. Almost a year ago, it seems as if we have closed a chapter but today, we are living proof people who are made for each other can begin again.

Ce sera toujours toi 🤍 It will always be you.

scuderiaferrari We missed you tons, Y/N! ❤️

wagsf1 the queen of all queens is back we love to see it

lecslover it's years later and he still talks about her the same way he always have 🥹

sainzchamp The way theyve been soft launching each other all this time and that one rumor of Charles being with another girl was still Y/N 😭

yourusername sold our apartment already? too bad 😆

charles_leclerc I never actually sold it, if I did, I'd probably buy it back

---------

tagging: @slytherheign, @honethatty12, @siovhanroy, @mehrmonga, @mess-in-side, @leclerc16s, @thelovehypothesis, @dakotali, @aldene-styles

notes: eeee and its finally done! cant believe it took so much time before i finished all three parts lol anyway thank you so much for those who waited for the part three (i see all the asks on my inbox and the comments ehehe) i really just didn't know how i wanted it to go so! i hope you guys love this and lmk what you think <3

[jasmines-library]

Devil in Disguise

WHUMPTOBER DAY 29: Prompt ‘oxygen deprivation’

Fandom: Supernatural

Summary: After escaping from the cage, Lucifer decides to pay Sam a visit, only he's not there. So he settles on the next best thing: you.

Warnings: Choking, near death

Word count: 1.2k

MASTERLIST ⛤ WHUMPTOBER WORKS

🕸 ⋆ ⁶𖤐⁶ ࣪⋆🕸

No matter how many times you wished things would go your way, you never seemed to be that lucky. That was to say the least.

You were waiting antsily for your brothers to return, bouncing your leg restlessly and picking the thumb around your skin. They had only gone on a supply run; something they had done hundreds of times, but today something was different. You couldn’t shake the feeling that you were being followed. Every time you turned your back, you felt as though an invisible hand was trailing down your spine, but each time you turned to take a look, the feeling stopped. Perhaps it was to do with the face that Lucifer was back from the cage. 

It was an odd sensation. Seeing Lucifer possess your best friend. It was stranger to know what he was doing with his body too. The havoc and disruption he caused. You would have liked to have said that it got easier when he left Cas and returned to his first vessel, but then you were faced with the constant reminder of what he had done to Sam. You weren’t really sure which was worse. 

To try and take your mind off of things, you had settled down in the library with a book, A leather-bound copy of a handwritten journal that once belonged to a woman of letters. You had just settled into it when you heard it; a loud crash that thundered through the bunker. You had an unwanted visitor. 

Leaving the book on the armchair, you crept into the hallway, snagging a pistol that lay on the table on the way past. The good thing about the bunker was that it was crawling with weapons and you knew it like the back of your hand. But seemingly, so did the intruder. 

A cold hand wrapped its digits around your arm. You yelped as you were whipped around to face Lucifer. Tall and looming over you he grinned, flashing you his pearly teeth. 

“Hiya, Y/n?” He gave you a small wave. “ d’ya miss little old me?”

You shoved him off, holding the gun out in front of you even though you knew that your actions would be in vain. “Get away from me.”

You tried to run further into the bunker, but were stopped by an invisible force, keeping your body in place as though you were surrounded by a block of concrete. “What do you want from me?” 

He shrugged, trailing a slender finger along your jaw. “Can’t I pay a Winchester a visit?”

You gave him a firm look. 

“Okay. Fine.” He chewed the inside of his lip. “I got bored. All this hopping around… i'd got nothing to do. But now I’m back in good ol’ Nick. Well. I thought it would be nice to see some old friends. Maybe take Sammy on a little trip down memory lane. But it seems he’s not here right now. Isn’t that right?”

You didn’t respond. You just grimaced as he took your jaw in his grip and forced you to face him. You tried to squirm but were held still. 

“So, It looks like I'll just have to deal with the next best thing.”

You didn’t have a chance to react as he flung you against the wall, your head snacking against the blue tiles, helpless as you felt the invisible force squeeze you against the wall. 

“Let me go.” You demanded, desperately trying to pry your limbs away from the tile. 

Lucifer just pursed his lips. “Hm. I think this is much more interesting.”

“Sam and Dean’ll be back at any moment and then you’ll be a dead-”

Suddenly an invisible hand wrapped its way around your neck. “You talk too much.

You dropped to the floor, clawing at your neck as you tried to relieve some of the pressure that was crushing your windpipe like it was a can. You gasped and stuttered, trying to hungrily suck in air that refused to pass into your lungs. The agony that blossomed from them was unbearable; fiery and raw. 

Lucifer just smirked as he watched you struggle, tightening his mercilessly around your throat. 

Your chest constricted with fear. You had never imagined you would go down like this. For years you had believed you would go swinging. Never alone and without saying goodbye to your brothers. You flailed wildly as black spots swirled in your vision, and everything faded in and out.Your shoes slipped against the floor, struggling to find a grip on anything in your panic-filled reverie. That was until it stopped. 

Lucifer’s clutch on you vanished as your two brothers stormed into the bunker, noticing your absence. It was then that he heard the struggle coming from the halls. They had never moved faster than they did as they raced towards you, catching the devil off guard and after some struggle managed to restrain him with the cuffs. 

Sam was at your side in a second, squatting besides you. He placed his hands on your shoulder and forced you to look at him with your wide eyes. You were hyperventilating, breaths coming in short and desperate gasps. 

“Hey, Hey. Kiddo. Look at me.” You watched him carefully. Observing the way that his hair framed his face. “Follow my breathing.”

You took in a shaky, but deeper breath feeling the air rush into your lungs. You tried to follow your brother's breathing until yours settled into an even rhythm. 

“That’s it kid. You’re okay. We’re here.”

He wiped the stray tears that had fallen from your eyes and brough your head to his chest, tucking your head beneath his chin. You curled up tightly on his lap like you used to do when you were a small child afraid of the monsters that lurked under your bed. You leaned into his warmth, seeking solace in his cologne. 

“You’re okay kid.” He mumbled into your hair, threading your hair through his fingers. He eased you up into his arms and carried you off down the hall. When you dared peak over his shoulder, you noticed that Lucifer was nowhere to be seen. It was likely that Dean had forced him into the dungeon, but you clung closer to Sam just in case. 

He then eased open the heavy door with a creak and crossed the room in two large strides to lay you down on the comforter,Your head snapped up when he stepped away for a moment, panic clutching you tightly again.

You sniffled. “Sammy?”

“I’m here.” He said, returning moments later with Dean who had managed to slip in through the door at some point. 

He perched on the end of the bed. “Hey sweetheart.” He pulled you in close to his chest as his brother came round to sit on your other side. 

“You’re okay sweetheart.” Sam soothed. “He can’t get you anymore. No one is going to hurt you.”

You shuffled in closer to them, as exhaustion began to settle over your body. 

“Why don’t you try and get some rest, kiddo?”

You nodded hesitantly. “Stay with me? Please.”

Dean pressed a gentle kiss to the top of your head. “Of course sweetheart. We’re not going anywhere.”

🕸 ⋆ ⁶𖤐⁶ ࣪⋆🕸

<- DAY 28 ⛤ DAY 30 ->

taglist:

@senjoritanana

@deans-spinster-witch

@amaryllis23