#and tell me why this is the first time im realizing that you made this fanfic shdBDNDN

[zyafics-recs]

reblogging comment review from @zyafics

SORRY IT TOOK ME SO LONG TO REBLOG, I WAS PACKING TO MOVE 🙂‍↕️ always these r my comments on my first AND SECOND read through because im actually obsessed with them ⬇️

also the two songs i've been playing on repeat for this fic is everytime by ariana grande and y.d.l.r by tory lanez. take from that as u will 😌

Hockey and, well, the fact that you hadn’t missed a game since… well, since Rafe and you broke up.

i cannot tell u how giggly i am rn

God, why did he always have to look so fucking good? His broad shoulders filling out his number 17 jersey, that stupid confident smirk as he skated out with the rest of the team. His dark blonde hair peeked out from under his helmet He was captain this year, and it made sense—he’d been working his ass off since…ever. You couldn’t think of anyone more deserving than him. 

i love this so MUCH SO SO SO MUCH

You knew better than to be here, yet somehow you ended up courtside anyway. Probably because you’d never let him run you out of your favorite game. Not even if he was captain now. This was your team, the one you’d been coming to see since before Rafe even knew what a slapshot was.

i unfortunately do not know what a slapshot is

You sank further into Elijah’s side, forcing your eyes away from your ex. But it wasn’t until you caught the dark blue of the jersey you were wearing in the corner of your eye that you realized… You’d put on Rafe’s jersey. 

YOU TOOK MY IDEA AHHHH 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️

You followed his gaze, heart dropping. They were zooming in on the two of you. You could feel the crowd around you start to cheer and whistle as Elijah leaned in closer, clearly getting ready to kiss you.

ohmygodohmygodohmygodddd

Bang!In the span of a second, a body slammed into the boards right in front you, the sound so loud it made you jump. The entire section gasped, and you turned your head just in time to see Rafe standing there, glaring up at you from behind the glass. His eyes were locked on you, jaw clenched.

As he FUCKING SHOULD I AM LITERALLY ON THE EDGE OF MY SEATTT

That was what had your pulse racing. You could barely focus on Elijah anymore. The way he laughed, oblivious, made your stomach churn because Rafe—Rafe—was staring like he owned you. He always had this way of making you feel like no matter what, no matter who else was around, you were his. 

choose me love me fuck me (who said that)

Then, still staring at you, he mouthed the words, "I dare you."

When the kiss ended, you forced a smile at Elijah, but your mind was a mess. Rafe’s eyes were still on you, and you could practically feel anger radiating off him, even through the thick glass.

his jealousy is RADIATING and i’m eating all of it up

“Bullshit,” he growled, leaning in closer, so close you could feel the heat radiating off his body. “You knew exactly what you were doing. Bringing a date with you. Do you want me to kill someone?"

sometimes yes pls prove how obsessed u r w me

“I hate you,” you muttered. It was a weak defense, and you both knew it.

my favorite part of hate sex when they r LIARS

Rafe leaned in, lips brushing against your ear. “Yeah?” His voice was a low rasp that made your knees weak. “Funny, you never sound like you hate me when you’re under me.”

HES SUCH A DICK

His tongue slipped past your lips, and you bit down, hard, just to remind him you weren’t going to make this easy. He groaned, low and rough, pulling back just enough to look at you, his gaze dark. "You always did like it rough."

OH I FUCKING LOVE HERRR

But he wasn’t having it. His grip tightened, his mouth capturing yours again in a kiss so raw, it was borderline filthy. And that was it. Your last piece of control vanished, and you were lost in him all over again.

HE DOESNT EVEN LET HER ANSWER why is this so hotttt

Rafe just laughed, “No, you don’t,” he growled, his hands grabbing your hips as he settled you onto one of the locker room benches. “But keep telling yourself that.”

i’m so quiet bc i’m so into this 🫣🫣🫣🫣

“You’re mine,” Rafe growled, his voice rough as he thrust into you, each movement deep and brutal.“Doesn’t matter who you’re with, doesn’t matter how much you try to deny it—you’ll always come back to me.”

ONE FUCKING CHANCE

He pulled out suddenly, and before you could catch your breath, he yanked you up, turning you around. You barely had time to register what was happening before he lifted you up, your legs wrapping around his waist as he pressed you against the cold locker. His cock was back inside you in seconds, filling you again, and you moaned, the new angle sending jolts of pleasure through your already overstimulated pussy.

he’s INSATIABLE

“Go back to your date,” Rafe continued, his voice mocking now, “Pretend like he’s enough for you.”

YKW FUCK U I WILL

He knew it too. "I never wanted to lose you," he admitted quietly.You swallowed hard, your chest tight. "You already did."

so u give me earth-shattering smut and emotional angst? screw u

💌 i am absolutely enamored by the way u wrote their tension, how rafe fucking banged against the plexiglass and DARES her ohmygod i melted in a fucking puddle. ur smut was absolutely hot scorning riveting AND I WAS SO SURPRISED BY THIS MANS STAMINA LIKE CAN WE CATCH A BREATHE ugh ☺️💘 u did my req so much justice n gave me sm inspo i must write now

ex!reader who loves the game and wants to support her team but hockey captain!rafe is on the ice. he thinks she’s there for him but when she comes in with a date? and when they get put on the kiss cam? rafe slams into the glass to scare them? hate sex????

someone who lets you break them twice - hockey!toxic!rafe x ex!reader (+18)

warnings: veryyy long and 99% smut🙂‍↕️ the things i do for you...

The cold air inside the rink always made your skin tingle. Your breath curled in front of you like smoke as you moved uncomfortably on the bleachers, pulling your jacket tighter around you. This is why you hated fall. It was too cold to be outside, too early to be winter. But tonight wasn’t about the weather—it was about hockey.

Hockey and, well, the fact that you hadn’t missed a game since… well, since Rafe and you broke up.

“Everything okay?” The voice beside you pulled you back to reality.

Elijah, the guy you’d been seeing for the past couple of weeks, smiled at you, oblivious to the bullshit taking over your mind, and you gave him your best smile back.

“Yeah, just cold,” you said, trying to focus. You weren’t here for Rafe, not anymore. You loved hockey. You loved watching the boys skate across the ice, their power and grace.

Or at least that was what you kept telling yourself.

Elijah wrapped an arm around you, pulling you closer to him, and you leaned in, feeling his warmth. The game was just about to start, and the arena lights dimmed slightly, casting shadows over the rink. The roar of the crowd drowned your thoughts for a moment as the players took the ice.

And then, as if the universe was personally trying to screw with you, you saw him.

Rafe.

Of course, he looked good.

God, why did he always have to look so fucking good? His broad shoulders filling out his number 17 jersey, that stupid confident smirk as he skated out with the rest of the team. His dark blonde hair peeked out from under his helmet He was captain this year, and it made sense—he’d been working his ass off since…ever. You couldn’t think of anyone more deserving than him. 

He always had to be in charge, on and off the ice.

He still had that same cocky swagger that made you wanna scream… for entirely different reasons now.

You knew better than to be here, yet somehow you ended up courtside anyway. Probably because you’d never let him run you out of your favorite game. Not even if he was captain now. This was your team, the one you’d been coming to see since before Rafe even knew what a slapshot was.

You sank further into Elijah’s side, forcing your eyes away from your ex. But it wasn’t until you caught the dark blue of the jersey you were wearing in the corner of your eye that you realized… You’d put on Rafe’s jersey. 

His number. The one you’d always worn to support him when you were together. Out of all the team merch you owned, of course you had to wear his.

“You really like hockey a lot, huh?” Elijah asked, glancing down at your jersey.

“Yeah,” You mumbled, feeling your cheeks heat up. “I’ve been following the team for a while.”

Lies. You loved hockey, sure. But you loved Rafe a little more. Or, you used to. Or, well, maybe that was still complicated.

The puck dropped, and the game started. For a while, you tried to focus on the action. Rafe was all over the ice, playing like the goddamn superstar he thought he was. You couldn’t help but notice how his gaze kept darting up toward the stands, like he knew you were there. And maybe he did

Halfway through the second period, he slammed into an opposing player, sending him crashing into the boards. The sound echoed through the arena, and the crowd went wild, but you could feel your stomach knotting up. That had always been Rafe—intense, aggressive, unable to hold back. On the ice or off.

You tried to focus on Elijah, laughing at something he was saying, but your heart wasn’t in it. And then, just when you thought you’d survived the worst of it, the kiss cam flashed up on the big screen. Your laughter died in your throat as you realized what was happening, your face heating up instantly. You weren’t exactly embarrassed, but this was... awkward. 

“Aw, how cute,” He said, grinning as he pointed to the screen.

You followed his gaze, heart dropping. They were zooming in on the two of you. You could feel the crowd around you start to cheer and whistle as Elijah leaned in closer, clearly getting ready to kiss you.

You could see him coming toward you, could see his lips getting closer, but all you could think about was—

Bang!

In the span of a second, a body slammed into the boards right in front you, the sound so loud it made you jump. The entire section gasped, and you turned your head just in time to see Rafe standing there, glaring up at you from behind the glass. His eyes were locked on you, jaw clenched.

He looked like he was ready to tear Elijah apart, or you, or both of you. His chest was heaving, eyes blazing, standing mere inches away from where you sat. He had skated right into the glass.

Your heart was practically in your throat, and it wasn't from Elijah being close. The look on Rafe’s face as he stood on the other side of the glass?

That was what had your pulse racing. You could barely focus on Elijah anymore. The way he laughed, oblivious, made your stomach churn because Rafe—Rafe—was staring like he owned you. He always had this way of making you feel like no matter what, no matter who else was around, you were his. 

And you hated that you still kind of liked it.

Then, still staring at you, he mouthed the words, "I dare you."

Why couldn’t he just leave you alone?

Those stupid words. Silently mouthed, but somehow loud enough to hit you like a punch through the glass. I dare you. God, what was wrong with him? He knew exactly how to push your buttons. And of course, it was working. He wasn’t just playing hockey—he was playing with you.

You could feel Elijah shifting next to you, still oblivious to the whole freaking drama unfolding right in front of him.

He was so sweet, too sweet, and it was almost infuriating right now because Rafe was standing there, with his stupid intense eyes, all but daring you to move on. Why did he have to look at you like that—like he knew you were still his.

The breakup had been brutal, the kind of messy, loud explosion where neither of you were willing to be the first to walk away. You were both too stubborn, too prideful. And now here you were, months later, still dealing with the fallout. 

Elijah finally leaned in, lips brushing yours, and you kissed him, but your heart wasn’t in it. All you could feel was Rafe’s stare burning into you. The kiss cam lingered for a few seconds, and the crowd cheered, but all you felt was... empty.

When the kiss ended, you forced a smile at Elijah, but your mind was a mess. Rafe’s eyes were still on you, and you could practically feel anger radiating off him, even through the thick glass.

You glanced down, avoiding his gaze, and tugged at the hem of his old jersey, suddenly feeling like you didn’t belong in it anymore. You leaned into Elijah, mostly out of spite at this point. You could practically hear Rafe’s teeth grinding from across the glass. Good. If he thought he could just walk around, acting like he owned the place—and you—then he deserved to stew in it a little.

But, of course, he wasn’t the kind of guy to just let something like that go. You watched as he skated back into play, but his eyes kept flicking up to where you sat, like he couldn’t stop checking to make sure you were still there. Still with Elijah. His shoulders were tense, movements a little too aggressive, like he was about to snap.

You tried to focus on the game again, but your mind kept drifting back to him. You hated this. You hated that he could still make you feel this way, even now, after everything.

After the fights, after the breakup, after swearing you were over him. Why was it so hard to let him go?

The third period started, and Rafe was everywhere, throwing his weight around like he had something to prove. And maybe he did. Every hit was harder, every pass sharper. It was like he was playing angry. And you couldn’t help but feel a little satisfied, knowing you’d gotten under his skin.

But then, with less than five minutes left in the game, things escalated. He slammed into one of the opposing players so hard that the guy went down, and the whistle blew immediately. The crowd was roaring, but Rafe didn’t back off. He stood over the guy, glaring down at him like he was ready to throw a punch.

"Jesus," Elijah muttered beside you. "What the hell’s his problem?"

You didn’t answer. You knew exactly what his problem was.

The ref skated over, shouting something at Rafe, but his eyes weren’t on the ref. They were still on you, even as the other guy on the ice slowly got back to his feet. The arena was buzzing, the crowd getting rowdy, and for a second, you thought Rafe was going to lose it right there. His fists clenched, jaw set—he looked like he was ready to drop gloves and start swinging.

And then he smirked.

It was that same cocky smirk you knew so well, the one he always flashed right before doing something reckless. The ref sent him to the penalty box, and he skated off, still with that fucking look plastered on his face. Your heart was racing, your body tense. Elijah had leaned back in his seat, totally unaware about everything.

“Man, that guy’s intense,” Elijah said, shaking his head, eyes still on the ice.

You didn’t answer. Intense didn’t even begin to cover it.

Rafe was sitting in the penalty box now, helmet off, running a hand through his hair like he didn’t just about murder a guy on the ice. You could feel his eyes on you, even from all the way across the rink. You hated it. You hated that he could still get to you like this.

The last few minutes of the game passed in an instant. You weren’t really paying attention anymore, not to the score, not to the plays. You were too busy trying not to think about Rafe, about the way he had looked at you. About the way it had made you feel.

When the final buzzer sounded, the crowd erupted in cheers. Elijah stood up, stretching, turning to you with a smile.

“Ready to head out?” he asked.

You nodded, forcing a smile. “Yeah, let’s go.”

As you made your way toward the exit, weaving through the crowd, you could feel the tension building in your chest. It wasn’t over. It never really was with Rafe.

And you knew—somehow—you weren’t getting out of here without seeing him again.

You reached the bottom of the stands, where a crowd had gathered near the exit. Elijah was still chatting about the game, still clueless. But you were distracted, scanning the crowd without even realizing it.

And then you saw him. Of course, you did.

Rafe was leaning against the wall, still in his gear, helmet tucked under his arm. His eyes locked on yours the second you stepped into his line of sight. He didn’t even pretend to care about the people around him—his gaze was dark, intense, like a predator waiting for its moment.

You hated how your heart skipped.

Elijah noticed you freeze and followed your gaze, his smile faltering when he saw Rafe standing there.

"Isn’t that the captain guy?" he asked, glancing between you and Rafe, confused.

You swallowed hard, forcing your feet to keep moving. “Yeah. That’s him.”

As you passed by, Rafe pushed off the wall, stepping right into your path. Elijah, sweet, unsuspecting Elijah, paused beside you.

"Leaving already?" Rafe’s voice was low, casual, but his eyes were locked on yours, ignoring Elijah completely. "Didn’t even stick around to congratulate the team?"

You clenched your jaw, fighting to keep your cool. "It’s late, Rafe. We’re heading out."

But he wasn’t letting you off that easy. He took a step closer, his towering frame making Elijah shift uncomfortably. "You didn’t used to leave so soon," he said, voice dripping with that familiar cockiness. "Used to be the last one out."

Because you’d always let him fuck you in the locker room.

Elijah cleared his throat, trying to stand his ground. "Uh, yeah, we’ve got plans after this."

Rafe’s eyes flicked to him for the briefest second, before landing back on you.

"Plans, huh?"

Your pulse was hammering, and you could feel the heat rising in your cheeks. Why did he always have to do this—why couldn’t he just let you go?

“Rafe, we’re done,” you said through gritted teeth, trying to hold on to the last shred of your composure. “You don’t get to pull this shit anymore.”

He glanced at Elijah briefly, his gaze cold and dismissive, then back at you. “You sure about that?” he asked, “Because it doesn’t look like it.”

You clenched your fists, nails biting into your palms as you tried to calm yourself. You didn’t need this right now. Not with Elijah here. Not after everything.

“Let’s go Elijah,” you said, tugging at Elijah’s arm, desperate to get out of there before things escalated. But Rafe wasn’t having it.

He stepped in front of you again, blocking your path like he had some kind of claim on you. And God, the worst part was—you weren’t sure he was wrong.

You glanced at Elijah, who was staring at the two of you like he had walked into the middle of a conversation he couldn’t quite follow. “Look, dude,” he started, awkwardly laughing, “I don’t know what this is, but—”

“It’s nothing,” you cut him off quickly, your voice tight. “Let’s just go.”

But Rafe wasn’t about to let it go. 

“Yeah, Elijah,” His voice dripped with sarcasm. “It’s nothing.” His eyes flicked to you, dark and daring, and before you could stop yourself, you met his gaze with the same fire.

Elijah’s phone buzzed, and he pulled it out, frowning.

“Shit,” he muttered, distracted. “I’ve gotta take this call real quick. Give me a sec?” He stepped away, leaving you and Rafe standing there in the middle of the hallway, your body practically vibrating.

He was on you in an instant, grabbing your wrist and pulling you toward the locker room door. 

“Rafe, what the fuck—” you hissed, but he wasn’t letting go.

You tried to resist, but something inside you broke down—the anger, the unresolved pull between you two. And maybe it was the way he still had that stupid hold on you, the way your body responded when you shouldn’t want it to.

Or maybe it was the fact that you’d never fully closed the door on Rafe.

He shoved the door open, pulling you inside the dimly lit hallway that led to the locker room. The second the door closed, you spun around, shoving him in the chest hard. 

“You’re such a fucking asshole, you know that?”

Rafe barely flinched, his gaze smoldering as he crowded you against the wall. 

“Yeah? You didn’t seem to think so when you were wearing my jersey tonight.”

“That was an accident.”

“Bullshit,” he growled, leaning in closer, so close you could feel the heat radiating off his body. “You knew exactly what you were doing. Bringing a date with you. Do you want me to kill someone?"

Your heart was pounding, and not just because Rafe had you pinned against the wall like he always fucking did— God, why did he have to be so damn close? The scent of his cologne mixed with the sweat from the game, sending your mind spiraling. He was overwhelming, and you hated it. You hated him for still making you feel like this.

“Get off me,” you snapped, but it came out weaker than you intended. The way his blue eyes were boring into yours, like he could see through all your bullshit, wasn’t helping.

Rafe’s smirk didn’t falter. If anything, it grew.

“C’mon, baby, don’t act like this wasn’t what you wanted. You show up, wearin’ my number, sitting there with some random guy like I don’t still own you.” 

He stepped closer, caging you in completely. You pressed your hands against his chest, but it wasn’t like you were really pushing him away. And he knew it.

“You don’t own shit,” you spat, glaring up at him. But even as the words left your mouth, you knew you didn’t believe them. The truth was, part of you had always been his.

Rafe’s lips curved into a smug grin as if he could read every thought running through your head.

“Really? ’Cause from where I’m standin’, you’ve been thinkin’ about me all night.” His breath was hot on your skin, and you hated how much you wanted to close the distance between you.

Your jaw clenched as you tried to muster the strength to tell him to fuck off, to leave you alone, but he was right. As much as you tried to convince yourself otherwise, he was still in your head, under your skin. The way his body hovered over yours—it was like nothing had changed. Like you hadn’t spent the last few months trying to forget him.

His hand found your hip, fingers pressing into your skin through your jeans, and you felt your body betray you. You cursed yourself silently as heat pooled low in your stomach. You didn’t want to give him the satisfaction, didn’t want him to know how much power he still had. But damn it, he knew. He always fucking knew.

“I hate you,” you muttered. It was a weak defense, and you both knew it.

Rafe leaned in, lips brushing against your ear. “Yeah?” His voice was a low rasp that made your knees weak. “Funny, you never sound like you hate me when you’re under me.”

Your breath hitched, and you swallowed hard, trying to ignore the way your pulse quickened.

“Don’t—”

But he was already kissing you, hard and rough like he owned you, like you were his and his alone.

And the worst part? You kissed him back. His hands were on you, grabbing at your waist, pulling you closer until your bodies were pressed together. You wanted to shove him away, to slap that stupid look off his face—but your body had other plans. 

This was so wrong, on so many levels. 

You broke the kiss, gasping for air, but Rafe didn’t back off. He was staring down at you like you were his next meal, like he’d been starving without you.

“This doesn’t mean anything,” you bit out, trying to cling to some sense of control.

Rafe’s grin widened, wicked and knowing. He leaned in again, lips ghosting over yours. “We both know that's a lie.”

You clenched your fists, frustrated beyond belief. Frustrated at him, at yourself, at how easy it was for him to pull you right back in.

“Fuck you,” you hissed, but the breathless tone in your voice told a different story.

Rafe’s eyes darkened, the corner of his mouth lifting in that infuriatingly sexy way he always did.

“Oh, you will.”

And God help you—you knew he was right. That fucking arrogance. It crawled under your skin, set your blood on fire in ways it shouldn’t.

You wanted to punch him, shove him, do something to wipe that smug expression off his face. But instead, you grabbed his shirt, pulling him back toward you, kissing him with all the fury you felt.

His lips crushed against yours, and it wasn’t gentle—there was nothing soft or sweet about this. It was all heat and frustration, months of unresolved anger bursting out in one chaotic, messy kiss.

His tongue slipped past your lips, and you bit down, hard, just to remind him you weren’t going to make this easy. He groaned, low and rough, pulling back just enough to look at you, his gaze dark. "You always did like it rough."

Your fingers tangled in his hair, and you yanked him down, kissing him like you needed to get all of this out of your system. His hands roamed your body, possessive, rough, and you hated how much you craved him, like you were still his.

You weren’t his. You couldn’t be.

But every heated breath you took, every desperate movement your body made, was telling you otherwise.

When his lips moved down your neck, teeth grazing your skin, you gasped, tilting your head back as your resolve crumbled to pieces. He knew exactly what to do, how to make you fall apart, and it pissed you off that he still had that power.

His hands gripped your thighs, lifting you with ease, pressing you harder against the wall. Your breath hitched, the cold tile behind you making you gasp. His mouth was on you, hot and demanding, and for a moment, it was like nothing else mattered.

Not Elijah, not the fact that this was so damn wrong, not the months of hurt and anger you’d been holding onto.

There was only Rafe. The way he touched you, the way he kissed you like he was trying to stake his claim all over again. Like you hadn’t been apart at all.

"Tell me you don’t want this," Rafe muttered against your lips.

You bit down on your lip, trying to stop the words from spilling out. You did want this. You hated that you did, but fuck, you couldn’t lie—not to him, not to yourself.

“I—” You choked on the words, eyes meeting his, and for a split second, you thought maybe you’d find some kind of resolve, some way to pull yourself back from him.

But he wasn’t having it. His grip tightened, his mouth capturing yours again in a kiss so raw, it was borderline filthy. And that was it. Your last piece of control vanished, and you were lost in him all over again.

“Fuck,” you gasped, head spinning as his hands explored your body like he had every right to. Like you hadn’t spent months trying to break free of him.

Rafe pulled back just enough to smirk down at you, breathless and flushed. “Yeah, baby. That's what I thought."

His hands gripped your ass hard enough to leave bruises, you let out a frustrated, muffled groan, your fingers still tangled in his hair. It was a lot longer than the last time you’d seen him.

You could feel every inch of his muscle through the thin fabric of your shirt. It was suffocating in the best way, and you hated yourself for how much you wanted it.

How much you wanted him.

“You’re such an ass,” you gasped between kisses, your breath hitching when his mouth moved down to your neck. You felt him grin against your skin, the bastard.

“You say that like it’s supposed to stop you.” His voice was rough, low in your ear, and it sent a shiver down your spine. “But I don’t think it is.”

You were about to fire back, but his hands slid under your shirt, fingers grazing your skin, and whatever you were going to say was swallowed by the heat rushing through you. You hated that he still knew exactly how to get to you—how to pull you apart and leave you helpless against him.

“Rafe, this—” Your words were cut off when he bit down gently on your collarbone, sending a shockwave through your body. You clutched at his shirt.

“This what?” he taunted, pulling back just enough to look at you, his blue eyes intense. “This a mistake? Because I don’t think that’s what your body’s saying.”

You just glared up at him, trying to catch your breath. You hated that he was right. Again.

Always.

“I told you,” you managed to say, though your voice was shaky, “this doesn’t mean anything.”

Rafe’s grip on you tightened, and he leaned in, his lips brushing yours as he whispered, “You’re still here, aren’t you?”

Your heart was racing, and you could feel the heat of his breath on your skin. There was no denying it—you were here, and you weren’t leaving. Not yet.

Maybe not for a while.

And Rafe knew it.

His hands moved lower, fingers grazing the waistband of your jeans, and your breath hitched. This was dangerous territory. You knew that. 

“Last chance,” he murmured, his lips ghosting over yours. “You want me to stop?”

You should’ve said yes. You should’ve shoved him away and walked out of there with what little dignity you had left. But instead, you kissed him again—harder this time, angrier, like you needed to prove something to yourself. And maybe you did.

He yanked your shirt over your head in one rough motion, and you weren’t gentle either, tugging at his jersey until it was off and tossed aside. His hands were everywhere—on your back, in your hair, slipping under the waistband of your jeans, pulling them down with the same reckless urgency you’d been feeling since you laid eyes on him tonight.

“I hate you,” you whispered as your nails dragged down his chest, leaving angry red lines in their wake.

Rafe just laughed, “No, you don’t,” he growled, his hands grabbing your hips as he settled you onto one of the locker room benches. “But keep telling yourself that.”

Your jeans hit the floor, and he wasted no time, his hands gripping your thighs as he positioned himself between your legs, pressing you down on the bench, his body heavy against yours.

Everything was messy, and rushed, like neither of you could get enough. Like you were trying to erase the months of distance, of frustration, in the way you kissed him back, bit his lip, tugged at his hair.

 You hated how much you needed this. 

“Still think this doesn’t mean anything?” Rafe rasped, his voice hoarse as he pressed his forehead against yours, breathless and wild.

You could barely think, let alone speak, but somehow, you managed to gasp out, “Positive.”

Rafe’s mouth moved down your neck, biting and sucking, leaving marks you knew would still be there tomorrow. “You’re such a fucking liar.”

It was wrong, it was toxic, but fuck—there was something about the way he touched you. And body, traitorous and weak, responded like it always had.

You were furious with yourself, with him, with everything, but the anger only made it all hotter, more intense.

His fingers brushed against the seam of your panties, teasing, barely touching you, but doing enough to have you drenched. 

“You’re soaked,” he murmured, almost amused, slipping one finger under the fabric to run along your folds, barely dipping inside before pulling back out, "Was this all for Elijah?"

Sonofabitch.

“Stop talking,” you spat, but your voice was shaky, showing him the way you were falling apart under his touch. Rafe chuckled low in his throat, his finger moving back, this time slipping inside you, deep and slow.

You gasped, your head falling back as he began moving his finger, curling it inside you in just the right way. Your body responded immediately, hips jerking against him, desperate for more, but he took his time. He added another finger, stretching you out as his thumb rubbed slow circles over your clit, making your legs tremble beneath him.

He sped up, his fingers thrusting deeper, faster, hitting that spot inside you that made your mind go blank. “You’ve been wanting this, haven’t you? All those nights pretending you don’t think about me, but look at you now.”

Your nails dug into his shoulders, legs shaking as you felt yourself teetering on the edge, his fingers driving you closer and closer to the orgasm you so desperately needed.

His thumb pressed harder against your clit, sending shocks of pleasure through you. “Tell me how bad you need this.”

“Rafe—” you gasped, your hips bucking wildly against his hand. The tension inside you was coiled so tightly, so close to snapping. You hated him, hated yourself, but the words slipped out anyway. “I need it.”

He groaned, pleased, and that was all it took. He thrust his fingers harder, faster, until your body gave in completely. You hadn’t had a proper orgasm in months. Nothing could get you off properly. Your walls clenched around his fingers the pleasure tore through you. You cried out, your nails leaving half-moon marks in his skin as you trembled beneath him, lost in the sensation.

But he didn’t stop. He slowed down just enough to draw out every last bit of pleasure, his fingers still moving inside you as you rode out the aftershocks. When you finally caught your breath, he pulled his fingers out, his hand moving to cup your jaw, forcing you to look at him.

He shoved his pants down, not bothering to take them off completely, just enough to free himself. Your breath hitched when you felt him against you—hard, hot, and ready—and every rational thought you had left disappeared in that moment. He lined himself up, teasing you just enough to drive you crazy.

Before you could respond, he pushed into you in one hard, deliberate thrust. Your gasp turned into a low, breathless moan as your back arched, your hands gripping his shoulders for something to hold on to. The sensation of him stretching you, filling you, was overwhelming, almost too much, but exactly what you needed.

Rafe didn’t give you time to adjust. He pulled back and slammed into you again, setting a punishing rhythm that left you breathless, gasping for air. 

There was nothing gentle about it, nothing tender.

His hands gripped your hips, fingers digging into your skin as he fucked you like he was trying to remind you who you belonged to.

And you hated how good it felt.

“You’re mine,” Rafe growled, his voice rough as he thrust into you, each movement deep and brutal.“Doesn’t matter who you’re with, doesn’t matter how much you try to deny it—you’ll always come back to me.”

“Shut up,” you hissed, but your body was betraying you as you wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him deeper. 

He leaned down, his breath hot against your ear as he whispered, “Tell me you haven’t been thinking about this every night since we ended.”

You couldn’t.

The words were right there, on the tip of your tongue, but instead, a moan escaped your lips as he hit that perfect spot inside you. Your body arched against his, and you cursed yourself for being so weak.

“Fuck,” you gasped, eyes squeezed shut as the pleasure built, every nerve in your body on fire.

“That’s what I thought,” Rafe growled, his pace quickening, the force of his thrusts making the bench creak beneath you.

The sound of the bench, the way his body pressed into yours so perfectly, the heat of his breath against your neck—it all made it impossible to think straight. You should have been disgusted with yourself for letting it get this far, for letting him have this kind of control over you. 

“I fucking hate you,” you managed to gasp out between breaths.

Rafe chuckled, “Yeah? Then why do you sound like that, huh?” His voice was taunting, filled with the arrogance you hated, “This pussy still mine, huh?”

You loved the way he grabbed you like you were his, even though you’d sworn, sworn, you were done with him.

You were still in love, weren’t you? Even after all the shit, all the screaming matches, the nights spent crying because of him. That was the part that pissed you off the most.

Before you knew, his hands were flipping you over so fast your knees hit the bench before you could react.

“Rafe—mmh,” you gasped, but your words died in your throat when he shoved you forward, pressing your chest flat against the cold wood of the bench. You barely had a second to brace yourself before his hands were gripping your ass, spreading you open for him.

He didn’t give you time to catch your breath. He was already dragging the head of his cock through your wetness, teasing, knowing how much you wanted it, even if you wouldn’t say it.

You squirmed, hating how desperate you felt, hating how your body responded to him like this. “Fuck, Rafe, stop teasing—”

“You want more?” he cut you off, voice dark and dripping with arrogance. He slapped your ass, just enough to sting, and you yelped, your back arching instinctively. “You’re gonna have to beg for it.”

"Like hell," you spat back.

He leaned forward, his chest pressing against your back, his mouth right by your ear.

 “You can act tough all you want, but I know how much you want this,” he gritted out, his cock sliding against your folds again, torturously slow. “I know how much you need it.”

Before you could snap back, he thrust into you hard, filling you completely in one brutal stroke. You cried out, hands gripping the edges of the bench, and Rafe didn’t even give you a second to adjust. He pulled out almost all the way before slamming back in, faster this time, deeper.

The angle had you seeing stars. The bench was narrow, forcing your legs closer together, making everything tighter, more intense. You couldn’t stop the way your body responded to him, hips moving back to meet his thrusts even though your mind was screaming at you to get a grip.

His hands gripped the fat of your ass, pulling you back onto his cock with every thrust, and the sound of skin slapping against skin filled the small room, mixing with your moans and his ragged breathing.

“God, you feel so fucking good,” Rafe groaned, his voice low and rough as he thrust into you, each movement hitting that perfect spot inside you, making your legs tremble. “So fucking tight for me.”

He pressed his thumb against your clit, rubbing in slow, deliberate circles that had you on the edge in seconds. You couldn’t stop the moan that ripped from your throat, your hips bucking wildly against him as the pleasure built, higher and higher until you felt like you might break apart.

“You’re close, aren’t you?” He rasped, his voice thick with lust. “I can feel it. Fuck.”

You tried to hold on, tried to keep some control, but it was useless. He knew exactly how to break you.

“I’m gonna come,” you gasped, your voice barely more than a whimper as you felt the pleasure rising fast, threatening to consume you.

“Do it,” Rafe growled, his fingers rubbing harder, faster. “Come for me, baby.”

And you did.

Your orgasm crashed over you so hard your vision blurred, your body shaking as the pleasure tore through you. You cried out, your walls clenching around him, and Rafe groaned, his grip on you tightening as he fucked you through it, relentless, brutal, until your entire body was trembling.

But he wasn’t done.

He pulled out suddenly, and before you could catch your breath, he yanked you up, turning you around. You barely had time to register what was happening before he lifted you up, your legs wrapping around his waist as he pressed you against the cold locker. His cock was back inside you in seconds, filling you again, and you moaned, the new angle sending jolts of pleasure through your already overstimulated pussy.

He pounded into you, his grip on your ass bruising, and you clung to him, nails digging into his broad shoulders as he fucked you against the lockers. The sound of metal creaking under the force of his thrusts only made it hotter, more desperate. You could feel another orgasm building, and you hated him for it—hated how easily he could pull them from you. 

“You’re mine,” he growled, his voice rough as he buried his face in your neck, his teeth scraping against your skin. “You’ll always be mine.”

And you hated that some twisted part of you wanted it to be true.

Your legs tightened around him, pulling him impossibly closer, deeper, as if you couldn’t get enough of him.

And God, you couldn’t.

His grip on your ass was rough, bruising, but it only made you moan louder. You were on the verge again—your body still tingling from the last orgasm, but the way he moved inside you, the way his teeth grazed your neck, it had you spiraling toward another one, faster than you thought possible.

“Look at you,” Rafe groaned, lifting his head just enough to lock eyes with you. His pupils were blown wide with lust, a wild look on his face that sent a thrill down your spine. “Fuck, you love this, don’t you?”

You did. Because no matter how much you hated him, how much you wanted to hate him—there was a part of you that still belonged to him. A part of you that couldn’t walk away.

His lips were everywhere—on your neck, your collarbone, your jaw—and you couldn’t stop the sounds escaping your throat as he kept driving into you.

“Say it,” he growled, “Say you’re mine.”

You bit down on your lip, trying to hold it in, trying to fight back, but every nerve in your body was betraying you. The way his body fit against yours, the way he moved inside you, it was all too much. You were coming again, and you hated it.

He pulled back just enough to look at you, his eyes dark and wild. “Say it.”

You wanted to spit in his face. But your body was telling a different story, hips bucking against him, legs tightening around his waist again.

“R-Rafe,” you whimpered, hating how weak you sounded, how desperate.

His smirk was infuriating, but fuck, it was hot.

“That’s what I thought,” he murmured, his pace quickening, each thrust deeper than the last. “You’re mine. Always have been.”

And then he slammed into you one last time, hitting that perfect spot inside you, and the orgasm tore through you, leaving you gasping and trembling in his arms. You cried out, head thrown back against the lockers as your body shook with the force of it, your nails raking down his back.

Rafe groaned, his grip on you tightening as he rode out your orgasm, his movements growing sloppier, more erratic. His forehead pressed against yours, his breath coming in short, ragged gasps.

“Fuck, baby,” he moaned, his hips jerking against yours as he finally let go, his release hitting hard. You felt the warmth of him spill inside you, as he held you against him, buried deep.

The second his breathing slowed and his grip on you loosened, reality came crashing back in. 

What the fuck had you done?

You pushed at his chest, trying to put some space between you, but he wasn’t letting go that easily. His arms stayed wrapped around you, his body pressed against yours like he still had something to prove.

“Get off,” you muttered, your voice weak, but sharper than before.

He chuckled, that low, arrogant sound that drove you crazy. “That’s not what you were saying five minutes ago.”

You shot him a glare, shoving at his chest again, harder this time. “I’m serious, Rafe. Move.”

Reluctantly, he let go, stepping back just enough for you to slide off the locker and onto shaky legs. You stumbled a bit, and Rafe’s hand shot out to steady you, but you jerked away from him, pulling your jeans back up with shaky hands.

He leaned against the locker, smirking like he hadn’t just torn your world apart all over again. “You’re welcome, by the way.”

You wanted to scream at him, to throw something at his face. But instead, you grabbed your shirt off the floor, yanking it over your head as you tried to steady your breath.

“Good luck finding your date.”

Elijah. You’d come to the game with Elijah.

You shook your head as you zipped up your jeans and ran your fingers through your hair, trying to look somewhat presentable. You avoided looking at him, knowing that if you did, you’d see the smug satisfaction on his face that would only make you feel worse.

He pushed himself off the locker and took a step closer to you. You flinched, stepping back instinctively. “This can’t happen again.”

His smirk slipped for a moment as he looked at you. H e closed the distance between you in two strides, his hand reaching out to grab your wrist, pulling you toward him before you could react, “You’re choosing him?”

You yanked your wrist out of his grip, your heart racing as you forced yourself to take a step back, putting distance between the two of you, “You’re the one who chose yourself.”

His eyes darkened, searching your face, like he couldn’t believe what you’d just said. Maybe he thought he still had you wrapped around his finger.

“You’re the one who walked away,” you added, hating how your voice trembled, “So don’t act like I owe you anything.”

Rafe’s hand hovered like he was about to reach for you again, but he didn’t. “That’s not how I remember it.” 

Your stomach twisted, “I’m not doing this anymore. I can’t—” You glanced at the door, feeling the weight of Elijah waiting for you. The one person who was good for you, who actually wanted to be with you.

But the worst part? You were still thinking about Rafe. Even after everything, you were still here, breathless, a mess because of him.

He took a step closer, his eyes locked on yours, and for a second, you thought he might apologize. Maybe say something real. But Rafe Cameron didn’t do apologies. 

He raised an eyebrow, “Really?” His hand lifted, brushing a strand of hair out of your face in a gesture that was far too intimate, given everything that had just happened. “Then why are you still standing here?”

You flinched, stepping back. Why were you still standing there? You had no good answer, at least not one you were ready to admit.

“Go back to your date,” Rafe continued, his voice mocking now, “Pretend like he’s enough for you.”

You bit the inside of your cheek, trying to keep the tears at bay. You couldn’t give him that satisfaction, not again. “You’re wrong.”

Rafe let out a low chuckle, shaking his head. “I don’t think I am.”

You squeezed your eyes shut, throat tight, trying to push back the tears. This was all wrong. It was always wrong with Rafe, “Stop.”

It sounded like a plea—a plea for him to stop talking, stop looking at you like that, stop making you feel so small and yet so overwhelmed all at once.

Rafe sighed, stepping back just a fraction, and for a second, his gaze lifted. But it wasn’t enough. It never was. “I’m not trying to hurt you,” he said, his voice softer now, like that made a difference.

“You always do,” you shot back, finally meeting his eyes. The truth slipped out before you could stop it, and there it was.

His jaw clenched, "I don’t mean to," he muttered, his voice low. "You know that."

"Does it even matter?" You felt the bitterness rise in your throat, along with something else—something fragile and painful. "You still do it. Whether you mean to or not."

Rafe stayed quiet, and you hated that silence. He didn’t have an answer. He never did, not for this. Your fingers fumbled with the zipper of your jacket, something to keep your hands busy so you wouldn’t look at him, wouldn’t say something you’d regret. But regret was already everywhere, suffocating you both.

“I thought we were past this,” you said finally, barely more than a whisper. “I thought I was past this.” But clearly, you weren’t. Clearly, some part of you was still here, with him, in the wreckage you’d both created.

He ran a hand through his hair, looking frustrated, torn. “It’s not that simple.”

"It should be." Your voice cracked. You hated how much this hurt. How much he could still hurt you.

It wasn’t fair. You weren’t supposed to still care this much. You weren’t supposed to still feel this.

Rafe sighed, taking another step back, giving you space. But it wasn’t the kind of space you wanted. It wasn’t the kind that would make things easier. “I don’t know what you want from me,” he admitted quietly, his eyes searching yours for something he couldn’t find.

You swallowed, the lump in your throat making it hard to breathe. "I don’t want anything from you." 

That was the truth, or at least it was supposed to be. You didn’t want anything he had to offer, not anymore. Not when every time you reached for it, it slipped through your fingers like water, leaving you emptier than before.

But there was still that ache, that feeling between you two, the one that dragged you back here even when you knew better. You wished you could kill it, cut it out of you like some infected part, but it was tangled too deep. And maybe a small part of you didn’t want to.

“You keep saying that,” he murmured, his voice almost tender, like he was seeing right through you. “But you’re still here.”

“I don’t know why,” you whispered, blinking back tears. Fuck, you hated this. Hated how vulnerable you felt, how easily he could unravel you, even now. “I shouldn’t be.”

He didn’t say anything, just stood there, watching you, like he was waiting for you to make the next move. Like he wanted you to figure it out on your own.

But you didn’t know how. You never did when it came to him.

"I’m sorry," he said, and this time, it felt real. There was no arrogance. Just Rafe, standing there, as broken as you felt. "I don’t know how to fix this."

You let out a bitter laugh, wiping at your eyes with the back of your hand. “There’s nothing left to fix, Rafe. We’ve already destroyed it.”

His face twisted, like he didn’t want to believe it. Like he was still holding onto some small piece of hope. "We could—"

"No," you cut him off, shaking your head. "We can’t."

You couldn’t keep doing this. The push and pull, the endless cycle of hurt and apologies that never really fixed anything. You couldn’t keep pretending that something would change, that he would change.

Because you both knew he wouldn’t.

He took a breath, exhaling slowly, and you could see it—the realization sinking in. 

He knew it too. "I never wanted to lose you," he admitted quietly.

You swallowed hard, your chest tight. "You already did."

[lucimaaie]

dream girl ✧.* spiderwoman au

pairings - ellie williams x fem!reader

summary - the universe is determined to put you and ellie together, nevermind her fear.

warning - i wrote this in sept and was kind of watching good trouble at the time so that's why r has like backstory, random ass side characters, and stuff, I dunno what I was on when I wrote this so just run with it y'all, i made this long for no reason (shh 3k is a lot to me), it also occurred to me that im not good at slow burn so this aint that even if it is an attempt

also credit to @sister-lucifer for the dividers

You'd been missing from class a few times after Ellie saved you. She thought about visiting your house, but that was too creepy. Creepier than drawing you. Checking in with your dad was an option up until she realized they’d only recently formed a truce. Finally, she landed on a coffee.

The plan still had flaws: Ellie hated coffee herself and yet she knew your exact order from overhearing it. It was super-hearing’s fault not hers. She’d do it anyway, and add a cute drawing of you. It was normal, right?

Ellie bounced her knee as she watched you walk into class and slip into the front desk. Jesse sat next to her. Did she forget to erase her initials? She was supposed to do that.

“Talk to dream girl yet?”

“Shut it.” She opened her notebook. “And she’s not my dream girl.” She had dreamed of you once and Jesse wouldn’t let her forget about it.

“You don’t gotta lie to me.”

She didn’t have to look at him to imagine the grin on his face. “One day, when you least expect it. I swear.” She shook her head as she went back to watching you.

Ellie was like a deer in headlights when you looked back at her, holding up the coffee cup with a smile. “Thank you.” You mouthed.

She gave a nod, hoping her smile came off nonchalant. “Fuck.” She mumbled as you looked away. She did not erase her initials.

Ellie felt like a coward for not sticking around after class. Especially when it was in an attempt to avoid you. Dick move, but cut her some slack. She expected anonymity.

All this to say she wasn’t expecting a coffee cup on her desk the next day. Someone was about to be very disappointed, she thought as she sat down. She shrugged off Jesse's remark about her having a secret admirer. “Boo.” She whispered-yelled at him.

She cringed right before the liquid hit her tongue. She hissed at the burning sensation before preparing herself to take a second sip. It wasn’t coffee, it was some kind of tea. Sweet too. She sat back to look at the wrapper around the cup, which she could’ve done first thing and avoid the possibility of being roofied by a serial killer, but least she was now.

‘I didn’t know what you like but I know you never drink coffee. thank you for last week!’ There it was: Message and initials in that pretty handwriting she’d seen when she reluctantly asked to borrow notes. Ellie’s eyes flicked up to you, surprised to see you looking right back. She raised her brows, not knowing what to do as you smiled at her. Maybe smile back you idiot! She let a natural a smile as she could grace her face as she mouthed a thanks.

The absence of your eyes allowed her to revel in what just happened. That was until she could feel Jesse glaring at her. “Don’t even.” She mumbled into her hands. “But you saw that too?”

“It’s almost like I've been telling you she might, probably does, like you back.”

“She doesn’t. She’s just being nice.” Ellie took another sip. Her eyes lingered on the note as she pulled out her notebook. It wasn’t lost on her how obsessed she looked if you were to flip through her notes. Lucky for her, you never asked. “I'm not gonna read into it. At all.” Safer that way.

“Won’t have to if you make something happen for real this time.”

“Let’s talk about your love life for once.”

“Alive and well, thank you very much.”

“What? That’s all I get?” Ellie scoffed. “You stick your nose into mine all the time!”

“We’re not talking about me.” Jesse sat back in his chair with his arms crossed. She huffed, flipping to a new page as her eyes traveled from him to you. You were as oblivious to your effect on her as always.

Ellie had dozed off. She was nudged into consciousness by Jesse. As much as she wanted to grumble and go right back into dreamland, she could see how much she missed just by the sheer number of words on the board. Tiny, tiny words.

The words coming out of the professor's mouth were pure gibberish as her sleepy senses zeroed in on you. "Ow!" Another nudge from Jesse, telling her to pay attention to anything other than you for once.

It took all of three seconds for her to hear the two words she dreaded: Group project. What normal person would be excited to do a presentation over economics? The better question was what normal professor thought she wanted to do that, but she leaned forward as she listened for the pairs.

She froze as she heard her name and yours in the same sentence. As a pair, doing the project together.. Ellie swung her bag over her shoulder as she pretended to search for where you sat. She was careful not to bump into anything as she settled into the newly vacant spot next to you.

"Hi," You said in that kind voice she'd always managed to pick out above all other noise any time she heard it.

"Hey," Ellie dropped her backpack. "Ellie, back row." She inwardly cringed at the words left her mouth. She didn't need to introduce herself; You'd known her enough about her to get her a drink, which made her hope that meant you were looking at her as long as she'd been looking at you. Or not, in the event that she did something humiliating she didn’t remember.

"I know your name." you smiled. "Did you like it?” She glanced down at your hand pointing to the cup in her hand. "I didn't know what you like and not everyone likes coffee so.."

"Oh, yeah. I..don't usually drink tea, but you surprised me." She tapped her fingers against the cup as you rested your head in your hand, eyes attentive though she was saying nothing important. "How are you feeling? After the..thing a few days ago."

"You know about that? I’m okay, it was just a few bruises and soreness."

"Uh, I listen to a podcast. Better than the news, less boring. I'm..I'm glad you're okay." She tucked her hair behind her ear as she glanced at the blank space of the table.

"So, after we pick a topic, I was thinking we could head to the library and keep working after class." Her eyes drifted back to you, taking in the way you shifted into a certain level of focus she lacked at the moment. That was something she always admired about you. "Unless, you have work or something more important."

"Oh, no! I'm free, not busy at all." Stop talking.

"Great!" You said with a friendly smile. "Wanna go?"

"Yeah, we can go."

Once you got to the library it had finally set in to Ellie that she had to behave with some degree of normalcy. It’d be embarrassing if she made it any more obvious how much a crush she had  you. 

“Oh, I forgot to ask you about your number.” You picked up your phone and went to the contacts, pressing new contact. “Just in case you or I can’t make it, stuff like that.” Ellie’s hand was gentle in taking your phone and typing in her number, afraid the sweat on her hands would blur the text on the screen. 

“I should be able to make it.” She said, needing something to do besides nod at your every word like an idiot.  

“Great.” You flashed her another friendly smile. 

Time had gone by relatively slow. Few words were exchanged as you worked on a shared template, putting in information neither of you cared for. Eventually, your computers were pushed aside in boredom.  

“I can’t read any more about supply and demand or my brain’s gonna implode.” Ellie rubbed her eyes. She was starting to wish she enjoyed coffee so she could reap the benefits.  

“Thank god, I’m not the only one.” You shut your computer abruptly with force. Ellie did the same with care not to destroy the thing. “I hate this class and the professor. He doesn’t teach, like, at all and then expects twenty slide presentations.” You rambled, dropping the sweetness she had come to know you for. Ellie couldn’t help but chuckle. “Sorry, it’s..the caffeine or something.” 

“I’ll bet. Your go-to has a million pumps of caramel syrup in it coupled with an extra shot, just so you can still taste the coffee.” Tiredness had wore down Ellie’s usual anxiety. She hadn’t even noticed she teased you until your face morphed into shock at being called out. 

“I didn’t know you noticed that, but then again you were so nice to save me six dollars.”  

“Outrageous price, by the way.” 

“That tea you liked so much this morning was the same price so,” 

“Welp,” Ellie threw her hands up. You both shared a laugh.  

“Let’s get out of here.” You said suddenly, crossing your arms just to lean forward. “I can’t stand the quiet anymore or this pointless project.” Ellie knew what you meant but that didn’t stop her mind from going to different places.

Stop it, you idiot!  “Agreed”  

Ellie had managed to pull her weight despite inwardly panicking around you. It didn’t help when you looked at her the way you did.

The workload was getting lighter and left more time for you to get off topic and talk about anything that came to your minds. Ellie couldn't pinpoint the moment she'd transition from not believing you were talking to her to not wanting to stop. Probably somewhere around the you exchanged numbers for the sake of project neither of you were worried much about.

She was satisfied, or rather she'd tried to convince herself she was, with just texting back and forth as friends. She decided she'd shove her feelings deep down, eliminating the worry of ruining your newfound friendship or putting you in danger. Ellie was okay as the friend, as long as she was close to you.

Ellie leaned against the rough brick wall of your apartment building a she waited for you come out. The soft material on the inside of her jacket gave her enough of a distraction until she heard the screech of the door. “Hey,” A smiled immediately appeared on her face as she took in how you drowned in your adorably festive sweater.

“Okay, before you come in, I wanna let you know my friends are weird. They don’t know boundaries but I promise they're really nice—“

“You were serious about the communal living thing?”

“Ellie!”

“I’m just asking!”

“C’mon, you.” Ellie’s heart jumped as you shamelessly laced your fingers with hers, dragged her along into the rustic building. Her wandering eyes were something like a kid in toy store, instead of an overly decorated lobby. The decorations were gaudy but homey, nonetheless.

She became self-conscious that her hands were becoming clammy as you continued to hold her hand, squeezing it every once in a while. “Just remember, they’re trying their best to be normal.”

“And..what’s not normal?”

“Jan bringing in random rescues, V keeping us up because she’s ‘running her lines’, Jade never leaving her room except to tell us our rent is due, and Winn never not having a friend over, but he's having a midlife crisis so." You shrugged. "Pretty normal stuff.”

“And you all share a bathroom..and stuff?”

“It’s the best I could get.” You said sheepishly as the elevator opened. She could immediately see what you were talking about the moment you started to struggle with the stubborn elevator gate. Her hand was soft in grabbing your wrist. "I got it."

“You clearly haven’t seen my shitbox I call an apartment. This is fine.” She remarked as she opened the rusted gates without much effort. Her eyes landed on even more Christmas decorations.

“If you’ll let me work my magic, it won’t be a shitbox.” You looped your arm around hers.

“You will never look at me the same. I'm serious. It's a disaster. A dumpster fire, really." It became easier to put down the worth of her apartment as she saw how filled out your building was just from the hallway. Even the scattered belongings had a way of telling anyone who came in that everyone who lived there was proud to. She couldn't lie, the closer you got to the dining room, that too you shared of course, she was sweating bullets. That's what it felt like at least.

"I can handle a dumpster fire."

Ellie's head turned back to you, eyes softening at the sincerely at your words. You were not making this any easier on her. She could wait out a crush. If she hadn't known you these past few weeks, she would've forced herself to get over it, but that hadn't been the case. "Hey, before we go in, i wanna thank you for all..this. You didn't have to invite me."

"I wanted to." You said simply.

"Why?"

"I don't know. No one should have to spend the holidays alone. Definitely not you, especially you." You poked her shoulder.

"What's so special about me?" She mumbled. That was not supposed to come out.

"That a serious question?" It didn't make sense in her mind, your interest in her. Shad no time to formulate a response when a short blonde girl came in with a bowl in her hand and muffled words coming out of her mouth. "Guess that's our cue." You smiled, tugging on her hand.

"Why the hell are you eating straight cranberry sauce?" Your words were fuzzy to Ellie as you took the bowl from the girl's hand. She was too in her mind to laugh at the absurdity of the situation.

She was hugged by a few people, all of which had nothing in common but living in the same building. Sat down by an older man she could only assume was Winn and fed until she felt her stomach could pop. Given a lecture on method acting from jade.

There was a point where she ran into being questioned by a few of them. The quippy, confident version of her was nowhere to be seen then and replaced with a stammering, blanking mess. Fortunately, you covered for her.

Ellie stared at the city with a full belly, leaning back on the less than stable lawn chairs on the side of the rooftop pool. The heated debates behind her served as background noise to the glimmering light and commotion New York provided. She took a sip of her beer. Her head turned towards you in the doorframe.

"Overwhelmed yet?"

"I wouldn't say that." She said with feigned coyness, sitting up to see you better.

"I wouldn't be mad. Or blame you."

" They do have a weird sense of...hospitality?"

"Hospitality is a word." You smiled, amused as you looked up at nowhere at all.

"At least that's the word I landed on." She shrugged.

"Well, you obviously haven't even used the bathrooms yet." You looked down at her with that smile she loved seeing. You took a seat on the chair next to her.

"Why do you think I’ve been sipping everything?" Ellie’s eyes never left you as you laughed in unison. She could've swore your smile melted into something shy. You never seemed shy at all. Or you were damn good at hiding it.

"Hey." Ellie hummed in response. "I’ve got something for you."

Her brows raised as you brought out a little blue box from behind you. The ribbon was crooked but tied by you, she could tell. "You didn't have to-"

"I wanted to. I promise I don't do anything I don't want to. Now, take it. Please? For me." You held up the tiny box like a offering in your hands. Her eyes moved from your face to the small box.

"Alright, fine. You don't have to beg." She inspected the cute little ribbon before carefully undoing it.

"Damn near,"

"Oh shut it." She glared up at you as she took the top off the box. As she looked down, the attitude slipped off her face. It was a camera as tiny as the box decorated with little savage starlight stickers.

“It’s not much, but I know you’re artsy and I figured maybe photography would be a nice hobby.” You scooted to the edge of your chair. “Also, it might be nice to have pictures of our first date.”

Her head snapped up to look at you, biting your lip in anticipation. “You’re asking me on a date?”

“Only if you want to.”

“I do want to.”

“You do?”

“I’ve wanted to for a while. i didn’t think you noticed.” Ellie flipped the camera in her hands, running her fingers along the mini stickers of the superhero. She wanted so badly to be on that date right now, taking pictures of everything so the memory would always be fresh in her mind.

“How long’s a while?” Your voice was quiet against the howling of the cold air, but in a way it felt intimate how close and quiet you were. There was gleam in your eyes from the fairy lights surrounding the patio area.

“If I answer that, will you still wanna go on a date with me?" Her eyes were almost pleading as she looked back up at you.

"I asked." You leaned even closer, allowing Ellie’s eyes roamed your face under the dim light. When she realized she was caught staring, she averted her eyes as she pressed her lips into a barely contained smile.

The moment was once again interrupted by jade. The girl stood with an empty pot, asking you where it would go. Your shoulders slumped a degree before you went into the kitchen with the young girl. "You could've asked Winn, hun.”

Ellie took that as her cue to get going. She took a sip of the now warm beer and grabbed her gloves. Her eyes were glued to you as always as she made her way to the elevator.

Knowing you wouldn't let her leave without a goodbye, she leaned against the gate for no more than a minute. As expected, you came around the corner with a smile and a few plates in your hand. Her eyebrows furrowed as her eyes landed on the stack of foiled plates. "You’re making me feel bad, y'know that?" She leaned her head on yours as you wrapped your arms around her.

"You can make it up to me on..saturday."

"Saturday?"

"That’s the day."

Ellie’s eyes widened, realizing you were serious. Some part of her thought you’d forget all about it a few days later and she’d look like the desperate one bringing it up. leave it to you to prove her assumptions wrong. "Got it." She was still dazed as you leaned up to kiss her cheek and close the gate for her. Her biting her lip couldn’t stop her from cheesing as the events of the night finally set in. She was doomed.

thank you for reading!

[rockermybuddie]

I’ll Never Leave You

Eddie x Buck

Summary: Eddie and Buck have a deep conversation on Eddies couch after Buck came over after his break up with Tommy.

Warnings: not proof read, unsure of what im even writing.

A/n: Im still not over Bucktommy break up. Blah blah blah yeah yeah yeah they only brought Tommy back for one reason.

Im still sad ok.

In my head this is what i need to see in the next episode. What i imagine is happening.

In no way am i trying to make Tommy the bad guy in this. If you have seen any of my other posts since Epi 6, you know i love Tommy and im a multi shipper.

——————

“Tommy broke up with me.” Buck muttered. Its the first thing either of them said since they sat in the couch, the case of beer almost empty.

Eddie paused and made his known face he makes when Buck tells him he broke up with is current partner.

He turns his head and sees how hurt Buck is. Of course breaking up with someone is hard but Tommy was good for Buck so even Eddie is feeling sad for Buck.

“I’m sorry Buck.” Eddie rubs Bucks shoulder reassuringly as he finishes off his beer.

The two sat there in silence again as Eddie doesn’t want to push Buck to talk and Buck is wondering why no one stays in his life.

“We both dated Abby.”

“Really?” Eddie furrows his brows as he proceeds to think of what Buck just said.

“Yep. Tommy and Abby were engaged. And after that i was the himbo.”

“Himbo?” Eddie snorted but quickly cleared his throat when he saw the look Buck was giving him.

“Sorry.”

Eddie got up and grabbed another six pack from the fridge bringing it into the living room handle Buck another beer.

“I asked him to move in with me.”

“You did?” Eddie thinks of how long him and Tommy have been together but then again he cant say anything. He asked Marisol to move in with him.

“Then he said that ‘I’ would end up breaking his heart because he knows how this ends.”

Buck leaned his head back against the couch as he finished off another beer.

“I thought he was the one. He said that he was my first not my last. But they can be they same thing, thats what i told him. He didnt believe me. Do you believe me?” Buck looks over at Eddie who is fingering his beer bottle.

“Y-yeah, sure….they can be the same thing.” Eddie mumbles out. The beer is starting to get to him.

Buck puffs out his cheeks as he looks down at the floor. He notices Eddie is still just in his underwear and a button down with the collar flipped up. But he doesn’t say anything about it.

“Everyone always leaves me.” Buck says after minutes of silence. A tear falls down his cheek but he wipes it away.

“Maddie has left me multiple times, my parents clearly didnt want me in the first place. Bobby left. The damn lawsuit. And everytime i ask someone to move in with me, they leave.” Buck named off everyone whos ever left him making him realize that maybe hes the problem.

“Buck we are all way past the lawsuit.” Eddie reminds him. “Bobby came back to the 118. Maddie and Chimney are here and Hen is here.”

“I know. I just wish people who claim they love me would stay.” Buck says

“We all love you Buck.”

“Not like that.”

Eddie turns his head and looks at Buck, the conversation at the coffee shop with Father Brian.

“You’ll always have me Buck.” Eddie tells him, he feels his heart beat start to race and he starts to feel sweat droplets around his forehead.

Buck turned his head looking at Eddie and repeated what Eddie had just said in his head trying to put it in place with the conversation.

“What do you mean by that?” Buck asks

“I- i um… I’m your best friend.”

“Yeah?” Buck can clearly tell something is going on with Eddie, and its not how drunk he is something was going on before he got there.

“I lied to you.” Eddie says, he sees the hurt fill Bucks face even more and it makes him feel even worse.

“About what?” Buck asks him. “Being my best friend?”

“No. About me. Who i am.” He sees the pain he caused turn into confusion on Bucks face.

“I went and talked to Father Brian and he said that I’m punishing myself of ‘joy’ told me to find a way to express myself.” Eddie explains

“Is that why you shaved?” Buck asks

“Part of it.”

“The other part is because i was hiding from myself.” Eddie confessed. He found it easy to talk to Buck, he didnt feel pressure or judged.

“Are you done hiding from yourself?” Buck asks. He knows Eddie feels like a failed parent since Chris is in Texas with his parents.

He knows Eddie hasnt been himself since and he hasn’t wanted to push him about it.

“Im not sure.” Eddie says “theres something else.”

Buck reaches for another beer, as he leans back onto the couch hes a bit closer to Eddie. Their arms brush against each other as Buck takes a swig of the beer. Waiting for someone to say another word.

“Find joy” Eddie mumbles

“Hmm?” Buck looks over at Eddie.

“Joy.” Eddie places a hand on Bucks cheek as he looks into Bucks blue eyes.

“Eddie.” Buck says, the hand on his cheek feeling like a hot mold leaving a scar on his face.

This had to be the beer because why is Eddie staring into his sould wetting his lips with his tongue.

“Kiss me.” Eddie whispers

“W-what?”

“Kiss me.” He repeats

At first Buck thought he was joking there was no way Eddie wanted him to kiss him. Eddie was straight to his knowledge.

“A-are you sure?” Buck asks as he notices the tent in Eddies underwear. Its pretty easy to see since hes not wearing any pants.

“Yes.”

Eddie asking Buck to kiss him sobered him up but as soon as Buck leaned down and placed his lips on Eddies he was drunk again.

Eddies lips were warm and soft against his.

Eddie adjusted himself on the couch so Buck was above him between his legs.

Bucks tongue worked its way ino Eddies mouth as Eddies fingers slipped under his shirt.

The two were shirtless chest to chest as they made out.

“Is this what joy feels like?” Eddie asks

“Yes.” Buck quickly answered.

-

As Buck laid on Eddies bare chest listening to his heart beat all these thought were rushing through his mind.

His boyfriend just broke up with him, he came to his best friend’s house to drink a beer and to not be a lone only to have ended up making out with his best friend.

That was a very Buck 1.0 move.

He just made out with his best friend who hasnt came out to himself.

What if it was all the beer?

What if this isnt what Eddie really wants?

Buck cant go back like nothing happened.

———-

A/n: I’ll probably write another story once we know what happens next episode.

[izzylovesmatt]

Confessions Part 2

matt x fem reader

summary - after matt confesses to his bsf drunk he is forced to tell her the truth and it ends up leading to something more than just a friendship

part one

(dividers by me give credit if gonna use)

⚠️warnings⚠️suggestive content,no smut (sorry)

As the morning glow seeps through the black curtains and fills the room i start to stir awake. I open my eyes as the sun hits my face i start to remember all last night, all matt's words were suddenly coming back into my knowledge even though i wish to just forget them. I see that matt's still sleeping so i slip away like a sly fox into the kitchen hoping to not wake the three sleeping boys up. I look into the fridge for any kind of drink that isn't soda. To no surprise there wasn't only pepsi's and dr pepper's. i go into the cabinet to grab a glass and i fill it with water from the fridge for matt. i grab advil and i make some butter toast to keep his stomach from hurting or from throwing up. As i slowly slip back into the room i notice matt isnt in is bed. i place the items in my hands on his nightstand and lay back into the bed and scroll on my phone till he gets back from what i thought he was doing. i thought matt was showering, well he was but he wasn't washing his body or his hair. He was faintly moaning and i could hear through the door. Did he forget i was here? is he doing it on purpose? or is he hurt and im just being dirty? What do i do? After hearing him a bit more it's obvious he isn't hurt and those are moans of pleasure. I can hear him moan my name slowly between soft whimpers. After 15 minutes of his shower i hear the water stop. Before he gets back in here i have to leave and do something away from his bathroom i can't have him knowing i just listened to him do that and i can't have him know it made me soaked. So i do, I get up and go back into the kitchen getting chris and nick the same things i got matt so i didnt look like a weirdo. I hear footsteps from nicks staircase i look over and nicks coming down rubbing his head and sighing loudly "is this for me?" he says referring to the toast, water, and medicine. "yeah for you and chris." i say getting chris's last peice of toast out from the toaster. "did matt get one? also chr-" nick says before getting interrupted by matt. "hey why don't i get toast not fair!" he says his wet hair still clinging to his forehead. "chill you did its in your room on your nightstand i thought you were still sleeping but i heard the water running." i say finishing up chris's toast as i watch heat rise to matt's face him realizing that i could've heard him moaning my name. "oh okay i'll um give this to chris" he says taking the plate from my hands. " oh there's a girl down there let me do it." nick says taking the plate from matt. "thanks nick!" i say shouting so he can hear me. After nick comes back up he grabs his toast says his goodbyes then he heads upstairs. "so y'had fun last night huh?" i say to matt. "well the parts i can remember yeah" he says with a mouthful of toast. "oh figures you don't remember anything." i say giggling at the boy who doesn't know what he said the very night before. "why are you lauging? what did i do last night that's making you laugh like that" he says covering his face with his hands. "wellll do you really wanna know?" i say still slightly laughing. "yes i want to know was it embarrassing did people laugh at me?" he says still covering his face "well first it's something you said and did but nobody else was around so-" he interrupts me "i don't wanna know i don't wanna know." he says getting up and puting his plate in the sink then sitting on the couch trying to remember anything he did or said last night. "are you sure it's kinda important." i say sitting on the couch next to him. " uh oh" he says. making it seem like he knows exactly what im talking about.

Time skip

After 3 hours of me and matt sitting on our phones and having only small conversations he finally said something to me that was more than a small conversation or a joke. "So about what i said last night" i turn my phone off as he speaks. "what about it?" , " did i say it in the club orr?" my heart starts to race for some odd reason i shouldn't be nervous around matt i never am. "well there were a few things you said. and did" , "okay but what would you say was thw worst this i did." i think back to last night when he asked me to change infront of him but that wasn't bad we do it all the time, finally it came to me. " well we were at the club and y-" suddenly he cuts me off "nonono i don't wanna hear just yet so we were at the club okay now where were we when i said the worst thing i said all night." , "well it really wasn't that bad it's just i don't think you would say it when you weren't drinking" , "yeah but where were we?" , "we were here and i was trying to sleep but you wouldn't shut up about-" he cuts me off again. " no i don't wanna hear it. yet" , " okay when do you want to hear it?" , "I don't know but i think i know exactly what i told you and i-" i cut him off with a soft kiss to his lips. Matt kisses you back almost immediately, he softly grabs your cheek as you wrap your arms around his neck. "i- i" matt try's to speak but cuts himself off. "what matt?" i say still looking at him even though he's looking down now. "i didn't want to tell you this because your my bestfriend but i-" he doesn't finish is sentence once again. "what mat-" he cuts me of by saying "i love you." The room goes silent. I don't know what to say. "and i know i shouldn't because your my bestfriend but please don't go silent please don't stop talking to me." he says still looking anywhere my into my eyes. "i-" matt cuts me off before i can speak "i'll drive you home if you don't wanna be here i unde-" i cut him off "i love you too matt." he looks at me finally in the eyes. "wait you do?" he says with a look of relief on his face. "yes matt but you don't know how to shut up so" i say before he pulls me back into the kiss, it feels like the whole world stopped just because of a silly little drunk confession. "now how about i show you to my room and i have a even better thing we can do back there." he says pulling me off the couch. As we're walking back to his room i can't help but be excited over this new beggining.

i thought i posted this 3 days ago but i just saved it to my drafts also im sorry it's short and not that good my great grandmother just passed and i havent been doing the best but i will make a smut soon to makeup for this

[greenmcgee]

Fanart of @crystalizedcryolite 's fanfic which I was thinking about so much that I had to just draw out one of my fav scenes

[xiakeik]

U know especially for someone who hasn't consumed JJK in awhile, that's really accurate. I'd really love more details if u want but not only is that super accurate but man what a fucking fun character that would be. Idk even know who I'd want to see them interact with the most because I want to see them interact with everybody. The stuff like doing insane things to win arguments and caring so much about how they look is such a perfect way to combine their traits too

Little rushed comic I thought I could do of their interaction with Mr. Stanford Pines himself!

Further explaination under the cut :]

Some other fun things I thought of regarding Nopher that aren't specifically related to Ford/anyone:

Nopher (which I'll say is the fusion name), definitely will have a hard time getting used to the body first. If you think about it, it's just Sukuna & Itadori in Season 1 (which btw, IF my art block doesn't attack me, i MIGHT draw an interaction btwn them). Simply not pleasant LMAO. Ford doesn't really know what to do with it because Nopher isn't much of a threat for the moment. Another thing to note is that Nopher kinda just showed up to to Ford's doorstep (thanks Bill) and while Ford DOES immediately recognize Bill in Nopher, he does not recognize the physical body he inhabits. Ford doesn't know Nobara, and Nobara doesn't know Ford. Only connection they really have with each other is Bill. I feel like Ford would be VERY intrigued by how Nobara, who likely doesn't have much knowledge on Bill, is able to withstand brief periods of possession per say? I'd like to think that although Ford really doesn't want to do anything with Cipher At All, he can't really ignore the fact that he got a "random" person involved. Obviously Nopher's capable of pretty much the entire arsenal that Nobara & Bill have (except Bill's powers might be a teensy bit limited but they don't know that).

Don't ask me where they get the money from but they do enjoy clothes shopping/shopping in general for the trendy stuff. One of the very few things they "enjoy"/have in common.

Nobara within the mindspace once in awhile will get excited to see the things they have around Oregon, same with Bill when they meet the JJK gang in Tokyo.

Bill ABSOLUTELY gets really confused over the idea of being able to see Curses. The creatures released during Weirdmageddon couldn't leave the confinements of the town, so it's a shocker for Bill to find that there are actually other worldly beings residing in a place outside of Gravity Falls. Freely too! (If they aren't killed)

On the contrary though, Nobara will always see the weird stuff happening in Gravity Falls as a threat. She's been trained that way to never let her guard down and she's BRUTAL with it. I think during these times, Nopher's general "crazy" really starts to come out.

Regarding the past 2 bullet points, it's a just whole new struggle for Nopher: Nobara needs to continue protecting people from Curses that normal people can't even see, whereas Bill always wants to try and make allies with them. It's tough.

That's probably all I'm gonna come up with for now!! I do have a semi-large project I'd like to get started on & finish before the end of the week so story-building Nopher may not be prioritized for now. I do hope you enjoyed my ramble though, anon!

[sqlmn]

OC RNG stuff.

-Lucinda is engaged to the oldest prince in a family of nine where there are 8 brothers and then the youngest is the only girl. She adores her future husband. -Ink Blot is a really dumb mage who acts as a street performer using fake magic despite being an actual mage. He just wants to be the center of attention. -Ruby and Luce are from the same plot (thank you RNG I love the dream wardens). They're part of different pairs and basically just patrol to keep dreams in check. Ruby and Luce also don't really meet each other in canon. Their routes don't overlap but they both interact with the main duo which is Colette and Marcus. (Ruby wants to beat Marcus up while Luce wants to kiss Marcus for what it matters.)

[asfdhgsdkjhgb]

had quite the night drive earlier this evening.

[higuchisora]

Can I say that I didn't really like the Seven of prophecy as a group and felt like their only value as characters from a writing standpoint is to add diversity to the PJO series and that they don't really feel necessary without the rep they add and some of them feel purely constructed to fill archetypal roles/tropes instead of being constructed as whole characters with an actual function in the narrative that no other character could fill or will I be sacrificed at the stake for it

[fallowtail]

i try not to let it get to me but the knowledge i am always going to be The Stupid One in every situation i’m in just…really, really sucks. sigh. oh well. i stay silly :3c

[kethabali]

i continue to be surprised how our body, minds, and universe align perfectly sometimes and we get just what we needed even if we don't realize we needed it

[criminalamnesia]

HIIII!!! I just wanted to say that i really love ur writing! I've read ur traitor series and I can't wait for part 4! I'm a new author, and english isn't my first language, so it's sometimes very hard for me to write bcs i'm stil not that good, but ur fics have helped me improve<3💗!

thank you so much!🫶 im glad you’ve enjoyed the series! and speaking of part four, here it is :)

ALL PARTS CAN BE FOUND HERE

simon didn’t turn to watch you leave the gym.

he stood there, eyes forward, mask clenched in one fist. he could feel the blood drying on his skin. he made no move to wipe it away.

he didn’t blame you for your anger— he couldn’t. he understood the rage. had felt it himself a time or two.

but he couldn’t take everything lying down.

did he deserve your wrath, your fury? yes— and he knew that. there was no making up for what he did; he realized that, but why couldn’t you understand?

he’d never fully taken his walls down around you, and that was no fault of your own. he was a guarded man, and his past gave him every right to be.

he had been burned and broken too many times. he’d seen the people he loved murdered because of him.

he swore he would never let that happen again. he put those walls up, and you knocked some of them down.

but there were some you’d never gotten through, at least, simon told himself you hadn’t. there was always something he was holding back, a piece of himself he wouldn’t give freely. he told himself it was because he couldn’t stand to love you so deeply and then watch you leave.

but really, it was because he needed an out. he needed a way to justify his leaving if something ever happened— and that’s what got him here.

simon trusted the 141 with his life. he trusted his captain with his life. price had never led him astray; john knew his face well before any of the others. well before you.

and when someone you trust so deeply, someone you’ve followed for years, tells you that the person you love has betrayed your team?

you can’t help but believe them. and that’s what simon did.

the evidence was coincidental at first. wrong place, wrong time. but then, everything started to seem like more than a coincidence. pieces of a complicated puzzle were fitting together. things only you and the rest of the 141 would know were leaked.

and all the signs pointed to you.

and although he didn’t want to, simon couldn’t help it. the second price had confided in him that you may be the rat, simon began to distance himself. you had been confused, but he had offered no explanation.

price was the one to question you first. it was a heated conversation in his office, consisting of him showing you the evidence and you becoming furious at the accusations.

johnny came to you next, buttering you up with his flirtatious and unarming words before asking if you’d leaked information.

then there was kyle, who pleaded for the truth. he told you that a case was being built against you, and that if you came clean now, things wouldn’t be so bad.

simon never tried to talk to you about it. the other men would tell him what you’d said, but he had never gone to talk to you himself.

maybe it was pride. simon wasn’t trusting, not after his past. he had let the 141 in, had let you in. and now you were a suspected traitor, and he was angry at himself. angry he hadn’t seen it sooner; angry he’d let you in at all.

but maybe it was hurt. hurt that you’d done this to him, to the team, after knowing everything they’d been through. after stitching up wounds on the battlefield and taking bullets for one another. after sharing simon’s bed and whispering you loved him.

all he knew was that he trusted price. and as evidence built, so did the distance between the two of you, until you were tied to that chair.

and simon had taken his hurt, his anger, out on you. he wasn’t proud of it, and he knew now that he was wrong. but he was still a little angry. angry because you couldn’t see his side of things— not like he could see yours.

so, he was an ass. he didn’t apologize. he snuck flowers to your bedside but kept his distance. he told you to watch your tone because you were still part of the team, and speaking to price like that was only something an outsider would do.

and he told you that he’d spared your life because he had. anger had consumed him, and truthfully, you were lucky he hadn’t done worse.

even if he’d smothered his feelings for you with rage, he still harbored love for you, and that’s why some part of him held back.

he knew you would probably never forgive him. he had made his peace with that.

but he couldn’t stand the fact that you couldn’t understand why he’d done what he did.

the creak of the gym door opening broke simon from his thoughts. he pulled his mask back on before turning around and making his way to the door.

it took one firm knock on the door for price to answer.

the door clicked open, and price sighed when he saw simon, scrubbing a hand over his unruly beard before letting the taller man in. price turned, walking back to his desk chair, while simon closed the door behind him and locked it.

“this is a bloody mess,” the captain said, falling heavily into the chair. it squeaked at the sudden weight, old leather crinkling and crackling.

“doc came and saw me earlier, ‘fore she left for the night. told me about some new injuries, and yelled at me for letting that happen.”

simon didn’t speak. price’s eyes met his, and he sighed again.

“fuckin’ hell, simon. what the fuck did you say? doc said she had to stitch up both their hands.”

“doesn’t matter what I say,” simon spoke, eyes still on the captain “they won’t fuckin’ listen.”

price shook his head. “that’s not true, ‘nd we both know it,” he sounded tired as he spoke, dark bags under his eyes. he paused for a moment, then spoke again.

“spoke to laswell after you left earlier. she said she’ll try to speed up the transfer process. tryin’ to avoid more fuss, and im not fightin’ it any longer.”

“they’re part of our team,” simon spoke, tone rough.

price shook his head. “they are, but I can’t keep doin’ this. can’t keep pushin’ off transferin’ because of you lot. it may be better for us, but not for them.”

the room fell quiet. simon inhaled, exhaled. his fists clenched at his sides before quickly unfurling once more.

he didn’t have a right to be mad at you for leaving, but he was.

“laswell say anythin’ else about tha’ transfer?” simon asked.

price leaned back in his chair, arms folded across his chest. “not much. no word on where or with who, but even if she knew, doubt she’d tell us. for their sake.”

simon gave a small nod and made to turn, but froze as price spoke again.

“she did say she didn’t know if it would go through. they’d have to pass another eval.”

they both knew what that meant. if laswell said that, then she didn’t believe the transfer would happen. kate wouldn’t outwardly say it, but price had known what she’d meant.

pushing the transfer through wouldn’t matter if you couldn’t pass a physical and psychological evaluation— and laswell didn’t think you could.

although he wouldn’t admit it, price was unsure, too. torture was something that took an incredibly devastating toll on the mind and body.

but torture at the hands of your team? there was no telling the damage that that would do to someone. to you.

an honorable discharge was more likely. and, if that was the case, then your rage would likely grow tenfold.

you career, your livelihood, taken from you by the hands of the men you trusted the most. your family, cutting you up and pushing you out.

damned by your team and your country, regardless of everything you’d done for both of them during your service.

you were just another cog in the machine, one that had been damaged and discarded, and a discharge couldn’t make that any clearer.

he thought back to what you had said in the gym earlier, before you’d left.

‘you should have killed me.’

maybe he should have.

thanks to everyone for your patience! also just incase you didn’t see my post about it—

im no longer doing a taglist! my side blog @troiastitans will reblog my works from now on, so if you want to know when I post, follow that account and allow notifications!

as always, thank you for the love! (also I hope you all enjoyed a little peek into simon’s head!)

[tbaluver]

I loved the “when you have a baby with them” fic, could you do one where you feel insecure about your body post birth and they reassure you? I love your work!! 🤍

When You're Insecure About Your Body After Birth- The Love And DeepSpace Men

warnings: mentions of body insecurities

parings in order: Xavier x Reader, Zayne x Reader, Rafayel x Reader, Sylus x Reader

a/n: hihi anonnie!! im so happy to hear you loved that headcanon fic and my works! (´｡• ᵕ •｡`) it always makes my day to hear you guys love them <3 i hope you and everyone else enjoys this one!

any likes and reblogs are always appreciated! enjoy!

⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆

Xavier:

He would notice every time he tried to get close to you, you would find an excuse or completely avoid him. Anytime you would try to wrap his arms around you at bedtime, you would roll away from him so you're out of his reach. Your sleepy lover would not be able to sleep anymore without you in his arms.

He would be so confused on why you tried to avoid his affection. He would look it up on his phone, his search history filled with questions of "Does my lover hate me?" "Why does my lover not want my affection" All the answers he read online made him more confused and sad.

It wasn't until he watches you stand in front of the mirror, tugging at your clothes and grimacing each time you realize the fabric doesn't sit on your body like it used to before. You wouldn't notice that he was watching you, thinking he was asleep the whole time.

He would grow concerned every second and every minute as you're still fixated on your clothes and by the time he gets up from your shared bed, you're on the verge of breaking down. You avoid eye contact with him before he can even ask what's wrong.

His arms reach around your waist and he pulls you firmly into his body, his chin resting on your shoulder. “Honey, I can’t stand seeing you like this. What’s making you upset? I want to support you and make everything better.” He would say, kissing your neck before nuzzling into you.

Although your lover warms your heart, it doesn't stop your tears. Instead, you start to ramble about how you don't look like how you used too before your pregnancy. How your clothes don't fit you like how they used too and how you felt like you started to hate your body.

He would listen silently, letting you let it all out while he's continuing to hold you so closely. You let out a deep sigh when you finished talking, melting into his touch.

He would pepper you with kisses and promises you that every inch and part of you is beautiful and deserves to be loved. He'll continue to love on you as much as it takes for you to see you as he sees you.

"You're my everything. Every change is proof to your incredible strength and the beautiful journey we've shared. To me you're more than perfect and I'll keep reminding you of that every single day."

Zayne:

Zayne has always been and will be extremely attentive to you and your family. He's remembered your medical record and has known the smallest detail about you so he's already noticed the change on your eating habits. He'll notice you checking the packages to check the calorie counts and at first he wouldn't think much of it. He would think at first, you were maybe keeping track of your energy but he wouldn't brush this off.

He'll notice this has been happening quite often every day. Every time you want too cook something or order something or even get a snack, you'll always check the calorie count. So he decided to finally talk to you about it during dinner and ordering your favorite takeout.

As you chat and set down the dinner together, feeding the baby first, he’ll notice you putting only a small amount of food on your plate. It’s your favorite dish, so this seems unusual to him. "Is that all you're going to eat, my love?" He would ask, his gaze on you. You would look at him anxiously and tell him it was enough for you because you were on a diet but he would tell you that it wasn't enough and that you didn't need to go on a diet at all.

Tears would threaten to spill from your eyes when you would explain to him that you need to lose weight. You'd open up about your insecurities, worried that he might not find you as attractive now because you feel your body has changed after the pregnancy compared to how you looked before.

Zayne would get up from the opposite side of the table where he sat and made his way to your side. He would sit back down on a chair closest to you, hold your hand tenderly, and gently rub soothing circles on the back of your knuckles.

“My love, you’ve only just welcomed a new life into the world and your body has done something remarkable. It’s proof of your strength and love, and its beauty goes far beyond just appearances.” He would say while pressing soft kisses on the back of your knuckles.

He hated to see you so upset like this, insecure and hating your body when to him you were the most beautiful thing in the world. He would do anything to show you how truly loved you really were.

"I promise you, you don't need to lose any weight. I think you're perfect the way you are. But if you don't feel confident in your body, then there are better ways to do it. I can help you and support you."

Rafayel:

He's called you a couple times to dinner but you didn't come down to the dining area. He's already fed the baby and put your baby down for a nap before he went off to find you. You stood in your shared bathroom mirror, poking and prodding at the pregnancy scar and imperfections on your body. Every single flaw became amplified in your mind the longer you looked at your figure contort in the mirror. You felt disgusted in your own body and wanted it all to disappear.

Tears would race down to your cheeks and you would feel strong arms wrap around your waist. You were met with Rafayel's reflection smiling right back at you until he saw the tears stain your face. He would gently turn you to face him, keeping one arm wrapped around your waist while using his free hand to wipe away your tears. "What's the matter princess?"

He patiently waited for you to talk as you tried to steady your breathing as he continued to wipe any more tears that came running down.

When you were ready to talk, you explained to him that you've been feeling insecure lately. The weight that you gained from pregnancy hasn't left your body. You haven't looked the same every since. A couple of your clothes don't fit the way they used too and it's all been upsetting you.

Hearing you talk so low of yourself broke Rafayel's heart. He hated that part of your brain. The brain that brings you down and makes you despise yourself. He desperately wished you could see yourself the way he saw you.

He began peppering your face with soft kisses, causing you to let out a laugh. He continued trailing kisses over your body and stopping at every area to tell you why he loved it. Your body was practically covered with kisses and praises from head to toe. Once he was finished, he brought himself back up and pulled you into a kiss.

"My love, you're like a breathtaking masterpiece to me. Every change tells the story of the journey we've been through together. You're still the same incredible woman I fell in love with, and you'll always be my beautiful, amazing wife. My one and only. I adore you more than ever."

He cups your cheeks gently and looks into your eyes with his warm gaze, "I love you, every part of you," He says softly. "If I could somehow transfer my thoughts and feelings into your mind so you could see yourself the way I do, I would do it in a heartbeat."

Sylus:

He would notice the signs but he didn't want to jump to conclusions just yet. You two would shower often before you gave birth. It was one of the intimate times you both shared. After birth, he noticed that you wouldn't shower with him anymore. Usually you would excuse yourself to watch the baby or say you would have already showered. You also wouldn't go out that often with him to auctions or any dates even if he offered Luke and Kieran to watch the baby. He figured maybe it's because you didn't trust them with the baby just yet, which is valid.

It wasn't until he finally got to convince you to go out tonight to an auction. He picked out a dress for you so he could match with you.

You stared at the mirror completely lost in thought. You hum dismissively as continued to poke at your skin. You analyze every stretch mark that appeared on your skin out of the dress. You'd turn every few minutes to check out your other angles.

You were so caught up in thought that the footsteps of your lover didn't alert you that he was in the room. He was leaning against the door frame, watching you for a while. He approaches you, wrapping his arms around your waist. "You look beautiful sweetie." He says, placing a kiss on your shoulders and then one at the top of your head.

You'd frown and protest, feeling that you're not as beautiful as he says. You'd start to ramble about how the changes from pregnancy have made you uncomfortable with your appearance, tears welling up in your eyes. Realizing that tonight might not be the best time to go out, you'd suggest that he should go by himself instead.

He'd spin you around so you were now facing him. His large hands cupping your face as one of his thumbs wipe any tears running down. A finger on your chin made you look up at his crimson eyes and you can see the concern and honesty in his eyes as he spoke.

"Sweetie, you are truly beautiful. Your beauty isn't just in how you look but in the love and resilience you've shown. I see you, not just as my wife but as this remarkable woman who has given a gift and something truly precious. You are stunning, inside and out."

He would gently intertwine his fingers with yours, holding together as he placed tender kisses on your knuckles. All the while, he'd keep his gaze locked on you, with one arm wrapped lovingly around your waist.

"I know every detail about your body and I know it's perfect. I will continue to love you, every inch of you. And I'll remind you that every single day."

[icarusredwings]

Thinking about Wade's life and his mental health issues a lot, and I just thought about this. Not only being abused, but his entire brain being made out of cancer, and the fact that oxygen was physically taken from his brain over the course of 2+ days multiple times?

We see him coloring a lot and claim multiple times that he doesn't/ can't read (this is probably a bit, I guarantee he can read), but it had me thinking what if some days were more childish then others as part of his coping mechanisms?

At first, Logans was really confused about why Althea puts up with it until he realizes that it's extremely good for him to just... be taken care of? Praised and given affection for the bare minimum? He thinks it's weird. This wasn't the same man he was fighting with yesterday.

Coming into the living room, he sees Wade sprawled out with crayons and markers all around him with multiple pictures already coloured, his notebook having pages ripped out of it as he kicks his feet and hums.

On the tv, there are cartoons playing. Once in a while, he'll look up at the tv and then go back to coloring. "What are you doing??"

"Hi wolvie. 'm colouring."

"He's behaving, so don't ruin it." Al says. There's pictures by her, and she is holding a box of cereal.

"O..kay??" Sitting down, he's almost too curious to just walk away, picking up puppins so she doesn't ruin his drawings, petting her confusedly.

Sometimes, Al will hold out some cereal in her hand. "Wade." And he will see him shimmy over and take the cereal. "Thank you."

"You're welcome, baby."

As hes scooting back to his color spot he stops and watches the tv for a bit longer then usual.

"...What.. the fuck." Logan says to her and she gives him a brow raise. "What?"

"What is he doing?"

"He's coloring. And I thought I was the blind one."

"No no I mean.. those aren't murder plans. That's puppins."

"Yes? And?"

"And.. what did you do to him?"

"Treated him like a human being. Give it a try once inawhile." She says, and he comes back with more pictures, climbing in between them with no regard for space as he leans into her.

"Oh thank you. What is it?"

"It's you."

"Oh? How sweet. Do I look good?"

"Mhm!"

"Im glad. How about you show our friend here your amazing pictures. And he better be nice!"

So wade turns and now is leaning on logan as he points to a different picture. One of Logan with Puppins on a leash with a sun in the corner and crappy grass, a hearts all over the place.

At first he wants to tell him to get off of him, but seeing the pictures and how excited his eyes were to show him, it hits him and he understands.

".. uhm.. thank you?" But he puts it back in his hand. "Oh- you want me to keep it?"

Wade nods and starts cleaning up his crayons.

Logan turns to whisper to Al "How long does this go on?"

"About 2 hours or so."

"Why?"

"God only knows, but it helps with his nightmares."

"Colouring helps with his nightmares??"

"Its more then that. Hey sweetheart? Why don't you bring your ponys out."

"Theyre horses."

"Oh im sorry, my mistake. I think logan here wants to play horses."

Logan gives her a look like excuse me? When did I sign up for that? "No.. uhm.. I think im good."

Wade gets this look of sad innocence but goes to get them anyway, beginning to play by himself, brushing them and making them talk to each other quietly. As if he speaks any louder, he would get hit.

Logan groans and is like "Gimme a fucking horse.."

From then on, Logan is quick to understand what's happening and is much nicer to him, starts giving him snacks, buying him actual coloring books, and has pinned his drawings to the fridge each time he's gifted one. His horses name is Buttercup, by the way.

[wttcsms]

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖࣪ you know i got a soft spot for you !!

ᝰ.ᐟ peak romance is when you realize that he's got a soft spot for you. alternatively: a headcanon post about the specific things he only does for you or the specific things you do to him that only you can get away with. ( fem!reader & sfw )

featuring osamu miya, tobio kageyama, kiyoomi sakusa author's notes damn, y'all just let hq win every poll, don't you?? haha jk, im happy to write whatever u guys wanna see. keshi's song has been stuck in my head all day (is this my socal abg transformation?? [guys im 100% viet, im allowed to make that joke]) i definitely still want to make a bllk version + if you guys like this, i'm always open to more characters <3

౨ৎ OSAMU MIYA — gives you the first and last bite of his food why it's special: osamu takes being a foodie to the next level. the man can eat, and he loves to do so. ever since elementary, his classmates and friends learned better than to ask osamu to share any of his snacks. he's not rude about it, per se, but you can tell that he packed his food with the intention of him and only him consuming it. him and atsumu even get into verbal altercations over who ate the last snack in the pantry. osamu just loves food — so it's pretty obvious that he must really love you a lot to always offer you the first bite of a meal at the restaurant he's spent weeks waiting to open.

"and anyway, that's when— hey, what the hell!" bits of rice fly out of atsumu's mouth whenever he watches osamu give you the first serving of grilled meat. you and osamu invited atsumu out to eat, to celebrate him joining the msby black jackals, and because everyone was craving bbq, you all agreed on the same restaurant (for once). osamu is naturally in charge of grilling the meats. what throws his twin off guard, though, is the fact that osamu is serving you first. "what's the matter? and finish chewing before you speak, damn." osamu huffs, before beginning to assemble portions of the side dishes on your plate as well. atsumu looks at his own empty plate before looking at osamu's empty plate. "geez, [name], how'd you do it?" you look up from your food to answer atsumu. "do what?" "this selfish, gluttonous bastard never lets anyone else eat first!" atsumu tells you, and you just laugh as osamu starts swearing at his brother. "well," you tell atsumu brightly, once his argument with osamu is settling down. "osamu's always lets me eat first. he insists, really." osamu has to tell atsumu to shut the hell up and stop whining before he doesn't get any food at all.

౨ৎ TOBIO KAGEYAMA — takes pictures of you why it's special: tobio kageyama's camera roll before you consists of screenshots (some are accidental, such as the ones of his lock screen, or it's usually different athletic gear he wants to check out), photos of maps (because he is directionally challenged everywhere except for the court), and sometimes of virtual tickets (for when he actually does attend an event, usually for sports). tobio kageyama's camera roll after you consists of the same stuff, pretty much... except for the fact that there are now hundreds of photos he takes of you. he's not one to take pictures; he's a bit awkward around a camera, really, but he realizes soon after getting with you that he doesn't mind being in front of a camera as long as you're posing with him. he takes so many candids of you, like when you're washing the dishes or drifting off to sleep on the couch after bingewatching a tv show. if pictures are worth a thousand words, he's said "i love you" over a million times.

"oh my gosh, delete that!" you shriek, trying to make a mad grab for your boyfriend's phone. his reflexes are quicker, though, and he holds it out of your reach. "why would i delete it?" he asks innocently. "you look cute." the photo in question is the one he just took. the two of you ordered ramen for takeout, and yours was made spicier than usual. your lips feel swollen, and they're kind of stained red from the spices used, and the image captures that, but also highlights the tears welling up in the corner of your eyes as you're in the middle of a massive bite of noodles. "i look like i'm the thumbnail for a 'mukbangers who took it too far and died' video!" you wail. "delete it, tobio!" "but you look cute." he stands his ground, pouting a bit. "that's not fair. do not make that face." you groan, turning to look away from your boyfriend. honestly, with a face like that, it's no wonder why you couldn't force him to delete any pics of you. he's just too damn good at whittling away your resolve. "i think i'm gonna make it my lockscreen." he muses.

౨ৎ KIYOOMI SAKUSA — lets you make a mess of his things why it's special: kiyoomi is very particular about his personal belongings. he doesn't let his teammates borrow any of his training equipment. he refuses to wash his jersey with the rest of the team's, and instead, gets it professionally cleaned elsewhere. in the beginning of your relationship, kiyoomi always offered to wash the dishes, purely because he would only trust that it was truly cleaned if he could confirm that they were well scrubbed. the closer you two get, though, the more the boundaries blur. soon, his stuff gets mixed in with yours. you're doing the laundry together. he gives you his pillow when yours gets too warm. there's intimacy in that, even more so when you consider how prickly kiyoomi gets with these things.

"kiyoomi! you're home early!" fuck fuck fuck, is what's going on in your internal dialogue. you're baking a cake for dessert, only the mixer had a mind of its own, and you ended up covered in sugar, spice, and everything nice. which isn't that big of a deal. you already wiped down the counters, mopped the floors, and got started on the dishes. the only issue is that when you're at home, you have a habit of stealing kiyoomi's clothes. right now, you've still got on his sweatshirt. his nice, pristine, fresh from the laundry sweatshirt... that is now covered in nothing but flour and cake mix. you were going to wash it, honest! it's just... cleaning the kitchen took more time than you anticipated, and kiyoomi was supposed to stay at the gym for the whole day. he knows that that sweatshirt is his. you expect your boyfriend's eye to twitch, or for him to frown, or to even complain that you just ruined his very nice and outrageously priced hoodie. instead, he walks over to you, and places a kiss on your forehead. you've got flour all over you, including your hair, and surely he's got some flour on his lips now. he doesn't complain or say anything about the ruined sweatshirt. he just says, "thanks for baking. i'm going to go shower."

[teamatsumu]

screenshot. (kita shinsuke x reader)

summary: your friend confesses on your behalf. for my valentine’s day event - theme: confessions.

word count: 1161

tags: @keiva1000 @kindnessspreads @msbyomimi @sleepyxxhead d @priv-rose @nishayuro @kitas-tapioca @kakashineedstotouchgrass @amisuh @avis-writeshq @samanthaa-leanne @akaashi-todorki @sp1ng @kur0obaby @bleach-your-panties @pinkiipeachiikeen @whippedbel

event masterlist

Many of Kita’s friends and volleyball teammates think he is a stickler for routine. And they are right. But Kita isn’t rigid. He isn’t unchangeable. He accepts a break in routine, takes it in stride, learns from the turning tides and comes back with a smile on his face. Why else would he be the captain of the volleyball team if he didn’t know how to assimilate with rapidly developing circumstances?

Today, he is confronted with another such change. He is staring it right in the face. For a few moments, Kita cannot fathom the sight. How can it be? A red envelope in his locker? Surely, it must not be meant for him.

His next thought is how it got there in the first place. No one besides the volleyball team is allowed in the club room. He is the one who always opens it and he is also the one who locks up every night. Did someone sneak in during practice time?

Nothing else in his locker seems out of place. Just the letter placed delicately on top of the rest of his belongings. Kita finally reaches out for it, tugging on the flap to detach it and pulling out the crisp white paper inside. Kita is halted in his tracks when he realizes that there is no writing on the paper. It’s a print-out. Of a screenshot.

He eyes the text message chain, recognising the small icons on both the sender and receiver’s text bubbles. It’s Suna, his underclassman, and he also recognises you, the manager and his long time best friend.

‘I can’t stand it anymore suna!’

‘then just tell him’

‘u know i cant’

‘thats a u problem’

The next message is long, bordering on a whole paragraph, and Kita’s eyes skim over it. For the first time in a long while, his heart skips.

‘ive known him forever rin. hes such an amazing person and my best friend but he doesn like me that way. if i tell him im just gonna lose him as a friend and id rather we be friends than nothing at all’

The punctuation is atrocious, and the grammar is slightly questionable, but Kita smiles regardless. He carefully folds the paper again, placing it inside the envelope. He closes his locker and continues his evening routine of cleaning up and locking the club room.

Over the next hour as Kita cleans, his thoughts mull over the letter he had just received. The menial nature of the tasks relaxes him, gives him time to mull over this new information. Kita realizes that maybe he isn’t as perceptive as previously thought by his friends.

How can he have not seen that look in your eyes before? Softer than anything and directed only at him, now that he thinks about it. He ponders over your words, the insecurity and negativity behind them. He has never known you to be a negative person. You are endlessly optimistic and full of energy. You are so bright that Kita loves basking in it. He has known you for a very long time, and he is almost affronted that your budding romantic feelings were hidden from him for so long. Especially when Kita has made his courting intentions for you fairly clear.

He has not directly said anything. But he doesn’t think he was ever being discreet. But maybe he has been wrong in his approach. Maybe you hooking your arm with his when you walked to school in the morning, sharing lunches every day, permanently stealing a few of his choice hoodies were all friendly gestures on your part. While Kita has interpreted the gestures as romantic, it seems you have not felt the same heat behind those actions.

Kita has always walked the same route home, sometimes with Aran, sometimes with you, and sometimes on his own. Today he takes the walk alone, but he is not bothered. He has purpose in his mind, the red envelope in his hand, and his feet carry him all the way through the winding streets until he stops at your doorstep.

He smiles at the surprise in your eyes when you receive him at the door. He nearly coos at the fuzzy slippers on your feet, huge and with bunny ears on them, making your feet look twice their usual size. You are so cute. Kita scolds himself lightly, regretting that he had wasted so much time as your friend when maybe he could have spent it with you as his romantic partner. His girlfriend.

It has a nice ring to it, Kita decides.

“Shinsuke?” Your voice breaks his train of thought. The ‘what are you doing here’ is clear in your voice. Your eyes are wide and your face is questioning. There is a tinge of worry on your face, and Kita realizes that showing up unannounced may not have been the best idea. He isn’t sure what is going on in your head, but he quickly tries to quash your worries.

“Everything is fine.” Clear, direct, to the point. It’s Kita being Kita. “I’m here about something I found in my locker while closing up.”

He holds up the red envelope, and when you stare at it in confusion, he proceeds to open it and pull out the white paper. You take it when he offers it to you, unfolding it and reading the letter. If you can call it that.

Kita watches the color drain from your face, notices how the panic overtakes your features as you recognise the conversation printed in front of you. He feels his shoulders slump a little, lamenting the fact that you are truly scared about him finding out. What do you think he will do? Has Kita truly not made his intentions for you clear enough? He cannot help but self loathe in that moment, seeing the state you were in now.

“Shin-”

He doesn’t let you finish.

“If you will allow it, I would like to take you out for dinner this weekend. Will you be free on Saturday?”

You blink once, twice. Your mouth opens and closes. Kita is acutely reminded of a fish. He tries to tamp down his smile.

“R-really?”

He merely nods.

Slowly, life reinjects into your face. You seem to age in reverse before his very eyes. Your grip on the letter crinkles the paper slightly, and Kita reaches out to gently pry it from your hands and smooth it out. He stays quiet as you process his words. He thinks of hugging you, maybe even kissing you. But stops himself. Those are moments he will reserve for after your first date, after he has properly given you the best date of your dreams. So he keeps his eyes on the letter.

“Remind me to thank Suna for this letter.” He comments. “I must say, it’s the strangest confession letter I have ever received.”

There is a pause.

“You’ve received other confession letters?!”