#does it count as waking up together if they just. go back to sleep afterward.

[kharonion]

11 from the otp prompts💜

[ soft otp prompts ]

11 | WRITE ABOUT YOUR SHIP WAKING UP TOGETHER.

It's absolutely precious how Vikt stirs awake. He grumbles deep in his chest, like a low rev of an engine—muted by the pillow he's shoving his face into—and tosses around as if trying to escape the sun.

Kerry chuckles, laid there resting his head in the palm of a propped arm. His fingers skirt along the dip of Vikt's spine, the definition of his shoulders, tracing every line of ink on terracotta skin. With every motion, there's a slight rustle, a gruff groan that's both content and endearingly agitated.

"Hey, sleepin' beauty," Kerry rasps with a smile that lifts his cheeks. He twirls the sparse curls of hair at Vikt's lumbar in gentle circles, continues to graze the skin with his nails.

All Vikt responds with is a light growl. His head shifts, eyes fluttering open—reluctantly. "Hrm...? What... time is it?"

"Fuck if I know." It's true; Kerry hasn't bothered to leave the bed. And, frankly, what does it even matter? "What, got somewhere to be?" he asks with a snicker, fingertips sneaking underneath the blanket set low at Vikt's hips.

That damn phone rumbles from the bedside table, and Kerry's about to sigh in defeat when Vikt's hand smacks down on it hard enough to shut it up. And he doesn't move otherwise. Kerry laughs as from the pillow, he hears a gruff, "No."

"They okay with that?"

Vikt shifts again, and finally, his eyes—well, one of them—crack open, eyelashes fluttering and optics gleaming in the sunlight. The wrinkles at their corners are always so prominent when Vikt wakes, and Kerry always traces them lightly with his thumb.

"Fuck 'em," Vikt drawls. He sighs deep, readjusts so he's laid on his side to properly face Kerry. He groans, yawns (and tries to hold it back, which is adorable). "Let 'em figure shit out themselves for once. I've... got better things to do..."

As he mumbles, Vikt scoots closer, until he's pressed close with his head tucked underneath Kerry's chin. Steady, hot breaths tickle his neck, the spot peppered by gentle kisses amidst the protesting moans seeping from Vikt's lips. Kerry runs his fingers up and down Vikt's ribs, absolutely relishing in the hums it elicits. He swears he can even catch the tail end of some light snores. "Do you now?" he eventually asks without much need for an answer; he can guess.

All Vikt does is nod, offers a low "mhmm" without any more elaboration—or any haste to change his position. He's quite content right where he is, seems like.

And Kerry's about to pipe up that maybe they should at least get up to eat something, but he can't commit to it. Not when the large man curled in his embrace has dozed back to sleep. Instead, he smiles, buries his face in Vikt's bed-tussled hair, and lets himself relax, too. After all, there's no rush. Not when they can just stay like this—content, warm, and lazy as fuck for once.

[livwritesstuff]

for @steddie-week day 3 | long (and a little bit of mutual pining but the kind when they're literally dating which i think is even more pathetic)

tags: modern day, famous au, actor!steve, rockstar!eddie

Eddie stayed longer than he should have. 

He was supposed to leave Chicago with the rest of the band yesterday after their show at Credit Union 1 – opening night for a year-long national tour.

Eddie didn’t leave yesterday though. Instead, he insisted on spending one last night with Steve, one last morning pretending like they would actually get up and go to that breakfast spot they like even though they both knew they’d be spending the time wrapped up together in their bed, in the home they share, refusing to disentangle themselves until they had no other choice.

No other choice meant Eddie waited so long to leave that he ended up on a flight which would get him into Ohio with barely enough time to make it to the venue in Cincinnati before showtime (and he was missing soundcheck completely – sorta shot himself in the foot with that one, in Steve's opinion, though he won’t be caught complaining).

He won’t be caught doing anything – not publicly, anyway.

Steve and Eddie’s relationship is kind of in the halfway-stage between secret and private, where Steve posts vague, faceless photos of the two of them every now and then but still deflects questions about his romantic life during interviews because – look. He and Eddie are both at weird high-points in their careers at the moment, and that means there’s a lot of eyes on them whether they like it or not. Steve had a public relationship turn sour years ago and there is no way in hell he’s letting it happen again.

Not with Eddie. Not when it counts.

There are speculations, obviously (and after Steve dropped Eddie off at O'Hare, he posted a photo of the Kiss n’ Fly sign to his IG story with the caption i hate this place :( – mostly for his own amusement at the specific way his notifications implode afterward), and they’ll probably get around to an official hard-launch someday, but for now Steve likes that they’re keeping things to themselves, especially when they don’t get to make that choice with much else.

Steve gets a just landed text from Eddie a few hours after he boarded his plane.

(Steve knew. He’d been tracking the flight).

Before he could respond, Eddie added, miss you so fn much

i miss you too, Steve texted back, and before either of them could wallow in it too much, he sent, gonna make it on time?

probably, Eddie answered. Then, getting ready in the car lol

He goes quiet after that (the getting ready, presumably), which is fine.

Steve gets it.

He’s busy too. It’s why he’s not following along on Eddie’s tour like some glorified groupie, and it’s not like the distance is anything new. On the contrary, it’s been an element of their relationship since they met at an awards show after-party four years ago. It’s more that this time around, they were supposed to only have four-and-a-half weeks together before Steve headed off on a press tour for the movie he filmed last year, but then that got pushed out a bit further, and so that four-and-a-half weeks together turned into a glorious nine, the longest Steve and Eddie’s calendars had ever been aligned without some serious planning beforehand.

He just got used to it, Steve supposes.

He got used to having Eddie around all the time, under his fingertips, under his skin. He got used to saying goodnight in person, in their bed together instead of over phone lines, got used to waking up in Eddie's arms and hearing sweet nothings whispered in his ear rather than reading the texts Eddie would leave for him to wake up to when they were apart.

He'll adjust just like he always does, and the worst part will be over tomorrow morning – that moment right between sleep and wake when Steve will realize Eddie isn’t in their bed with him.

Like it or not, the distance is their normal and they make it work (except it’s not even making it work, because it’s not like that. Any situation, any set of circumstances will work without question because it’s Eddie).

The start time for the Cincinnati show comes and goes. A few minutes into the opening act and while Steve is mindlessly flitting between Instagram and TikTok waiting for the algorithm to fill his feed with clips from the concert (ones of Eddie, preferably), his screen lights up with a call.

“Hey,” he says the second he slams his thumb on the green accept button.

“Hey,” Eddie replied, his tone nothing short of grim.

“You geared up for the show?” Steve asked.

“No,” Eddie answered, “I’m quitting.”

Steve rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, okay.”

“I need you to come tuck my pockets in,” Eddie said, and it’s a goddamn wonder Steve didn’t break down then and there, because Eddie always managed to tug his pants on in a way that made the front pockets stick out just a bit, and throughout their years together Steve had gotten into the habit of tucking them back in for him, squeezing Eddie’s hips a little when he was done and pulling him in for a kiss.

“Yeah,” Steve manages a wet laugh, “I – fuck, man, I wish I was there to tuck them in for you.”

“I want you here so bad, Steve," Eddie says, "I really, really miss you."

“I miss you too,” Steve nodded, even though miss isn't a big enough word for the homesick feeling in his chest, “Only a week until the Indy show though. And I’m coming with you for the Michigan one after.”

“Yeah,” Eddie replied, and if he sounded a little morose about it, Steve was right there with him. Sure, it’s a comfort knowing he’ll be seeing Eddie again so soon, but when those two days are over…yeah, it’s gonna be a long goddamn while until next time, because Eddie will be playing the Midwest while Steve’s press tour is mostly on the East Coast this time around, and after that he heads up into Vancouver to shoot a period drama mini-series while Eddie plays the southern half of the US, and then…well, Steve could keep going. They’re both taking a short break for the holidays, but that and the rare weekend one of them can fly out to the other is about it for the foreseeable future.

Which, yeah, Steve loves acting, loves that he gets to make a whole career out of it, and he knows that Eddie feels the same way about his music, but…the love he has for Eddie definitely edges out the rest of it – enough that he feels the distance between him like a dull, ever-present ache whenever they’re apart.

Eddie only ends their call when his manager practically has to yank the phone out of his hand and shove him onstage, and then Steve settles back into bed, back into scrolling mindlessly on his phone waiting for his finely-tuned algorithms to do their jobs.

Sure enough, it takes less than thirty minutes for Steve’s FYP to start showing him TikToks from Eddie’s show, and amidst all the hair and leather and silver chains and chunky rings and eyeliner and manic energy, Steve sees something else, something that has the hurt of missing Eddie increasing ten-fold, something that has him seriously considering taking an ax to all his contracts and his career and his livelihood and getting on the next plane to Cincinnati.

Eddie left his pockets untucked.

[xxcallmemaryxx]

Vessels x gn reader

Sleeping with the vessels headcannons.

Under the cut <3

Vessel can be a lot. If it were up to him he would consume you entirely and then go right to sleep after. This man will not settle until you are pulled so closely into him that you almost become one being. Big on skin to skin contact. Just absolutely adores being able to feel you and your warmth completely against him. Expect every inch of your skin to be touched and held by him at some point before he’s even tired. He is so serious about this. Needs you to know how adored you are by him every second of the day, but this amplifies as he gets sleepy or relaxed. Can never truely believe that you’re his and he gets to share such quiet and intimate moments with you. The routine you share when preparing to lay down together. The fact he gets to lay with you at all is nothing less of a privilege to him. He feels beyond blessed every single time. He will press his entire face into the softest parts of your body and stay there. He’s found himself falling asleep lightyears quicker when he’s with you compared to when he’s sleeping alone. But he fights it. Every single time. He would rather throw himself into fire than miss being able to admire you for as long as possible, but the second he gets his hands on you his eyes are drooping and his head is heavy buried in your chest. His favourite part of napping with you is waking up afterwards. When you are both impossibly tangled up, so close you can’t tell where he ends and you start. When you’re warm and soft and still half asleep. No words are shared. But you say your hellos to each other by snuggling deeper and basking in the presence of the other.

II is secretly a cuddle bug. Really only lets himself succumb to it when he knows the two of you will not be interrupted. The doors are locked and the curtains are drawn and there’s not a soul on the planet that he will ever allow to get close enough to either of you during this time. Enjoys you close, and really enjoys when you fall asleep curled into him. He’d never admit it out loud but you’ve picked up on it, how he settles into the pillows when his arms are secured around you. How he manoeuvres your half asleep form around so your head is tucked under his chin. How he sleeps closest to the door of the bedroom. He only settles, truely settles, when he feels as if he’s protecting you. Always up long after you’ve fallen asleep. When you’re safely tucked underneath him. He lays awake for ages counting your breaths, studying your features, committing to memory how beautiful you are sound asleep with him. He falls asleep looking at you. But ii is extra cuddly in the morning. Especially when it’s cold. If you’re lucky enough to wake up before him, his hair is always an absolute mess and his face has ended up buried in your skin somewhere. He might wake up for a few minutes, when he allows himself to snuggle deeper, chasing your warmth and inevitably falling right back to sleep again. The world outside doesn’t exist to him when he’s in bed with you. His only concern being that you’re still there and warm and safe and secure with him. He lets you soak it up for as long as you can when he’s all soft and sleepy.

III completely refuses to sleep without you. He won’t do it. He does not care. Whether it be taking mid day naps, or if you’re out and about for the night without him. He will not sleep until you are next to him again. He can be stubborn when he wants to be, and he’s damn good at it too. Poor guy could be falling asleep standing up and he’d still force his eyes back open. He is just as clingy as Vessel is when it comes to you. Possibly even more so. His entire body is draped over your shoulder the whole way to the bedroom, face pressed into your neck and arms wrapped around you the entire time. When you finally get to the bed, it’s almost as if he’s forgotten his own height. He waits for you to settle in and then, quite literally, flops his whole body on top of yours. His face is pressed into you and his arms are around you and he’s out like a light immediately. He will not move. At all. The whole night. He will stay right there, as close to you as humanly possible, where he knows you can’t get up and leave either. He sleeps so deeply he will not wake up for anything, especially if he’s been unable to sleep for a little while, it’s like his brain can finally rest because you’re back in his arms again and it just completely switches off. His hands, if not around you, are holding onto you somehow. He likes burying a hand into your hair and pulling you closer to him. He’s all about closeness. All about contact. He’s very big on you two spending your time together. Whether he’s conscious for it or not. So long as your body is pressed against his, he’s happy. He will only move in the morning, after he’s woken up long enough, to shift you around and pull you on top of him. The weight of you on top of him is the best feeling in the morning. Loves watching you slowly wake up.

IV considers bed time to be the best part of the day. Crawling into bed with you after a long day, is something he can tell you he has become addicted to. He is big obsessed with you. The moment you pull those covers over yourself his hands are on you and he’s not letting go for anything. If you fall asleep before him, he absolutely lays awake and watches you for a while. He takes great comfort in being able to feel and see you next to him. His hands are under your shirt so he can feel your warm skin against his, and he’s conscious of every breath in and out of your lungs. Don’t you even think about trying to move away from him, he will trap you between his body and the mattress so you have nowhere to go don’t even test him. You do somehow get out of bed in the middle of the night? IV is following you through the house like a lost puppy. He could be in the deepest of sleeps but the second you’re not next to him anymore he’s up and awake in seconds. There’s been many times when he’s tried to blindly follow you through the dark while half asleep, ending up with big bruises on his body from running into the walls. Hold his hand and guide him back to bed. Be gentle with sleepy IV, he’s delicate. IV has attempted to wear your sleep shirt, with you still in it. The top stretched over his head as he slept quite peacefully with his head on your bare chest. Best sleep he had in ages. Will do it again.

[luvergirl-866]

something like love

part - 2

pairing - paige bueckers x azzi fudd

word count - 5.3k

c/w - language, slight angst if you squint, emetephobia warning

a/n - hi!! it’s odd for me to post two days in a row, so try not to get used to it! i just already had this written and wanted to share it so baddd. hope yall enjoy! also, this is unedited so once again, im begging, lmk if there’s any mistakes. and ofc tell me what you think!!

To be honest, Azzi hadn’t really known what to expect when they put their plan in motion. She and Paige had gone over the logistics, sure, but they’d only really skimmed over how they’d act in public, and whether they’d hold hands, and what kind of flirty things they’d say to each other. Azzi sort of regrets her decision to let Paige lead the way, because that makes her feel like she’s going into this blind, with no idea of how Paige is going to act when they’re together now. No idea of how things are going to change.

It is only the morning after their movie night, and here is what Azzi has learned so far:

For one, Paige doesn’t actually seem to be that big on hand-holding. The only time she held Azzi’s hand last night was when she led her to the doorway once the night was over, waving their joined hands goodbye to their friends.

Paige does, however, seem to be big on basically everything else.

Once the girls were done gushing and celebrating and asking (very invasive) questions, they’d all decided on some horror movie they’d seen the trailer for. Azzi hates horror movies and she guesses this is probably the reason why Paige advocated so hard to watch one. Because as soon as they turned the lights off and the scary intro music started, Paige wrapped her arm around Azzi’s shoulders, pulling her flush against her side. They stayed this way for around ten minutes before Paige claimed she had to use the restroom, but before she left, she kissed Azzi’s head and mumbled, “Don’t get too scared while I’m gone, baby,” into her ear. Azzi had swallowed thickly and nodded, and pretended not to notice Jana wiggling her eyebrows at her.

When the first real jumpscare happened, and Azzi screamed along with a few of the other girls, Paige chuckled quietly and leaned down to whisper, “You’re such a baby about this kinda stuff, Az.” Azzi had reacted how she normally would, slapping Paige on the arm and rolling her eyes, defending herself with a, “Shut up, I know you’re scared, too.” But what wasn’t normal was the way Paige fondly shook her head and nuzzled her cheek with her nose before pressing a kiss there, and then leaned back up to pull Azzi into her side once more, this time protectively. Azzi swore she could hear her own heart racing for a solid five minutes afterwards. It didn’t help that KK had looked back at them and said, “Aw, y’all grossing me out with how cute you are,” before turning back to the movie. Paige had snickered. Azzi had taken a deep breath, which did nothing to help with her composure.

Almost an hour into the movie, Paige rested her hand on Azzi’s thigh and squeezed, and she didn’t give Azzi any time to tame the fire in her belly before leaning into her ear once more and whispering, “You’re so stiff. You gotta chill,” and so, tamping down the need to cross her legs, Azzi’d obeyed and leaned her head on Paige’s shoulder.

At some point or another, she must’ve fallen asleep there, because all she remembers after that is a gentle pressure on her shoulder, jostling her softly, and a voice from her dreams saying, “Az, it’s late, we gotta go. Time to wake up, baby,” and Azzi opened her eyes to find Paige sitting beside her, giving her this look that Azzi had only ever caught glimpses of, and it was so soft she had to shut her eyes again.

“Thought we were sleeping over,” Azzi mumbled, stretching and then turning onto her side, realizing vaguely that somebody must’ve thrown a blanket over her.

“Nah, I figured we better sleep in an actual bed tonight.” Paige stroked back a strand of Azzi’s hair with incredible tenderness before taking her by the waist and hefting her into a sitting position. “C’mon. I’ll take you to mine, okay?”

Azzi had nodded sleepily, and had let Paige say all their goodnights while she hung off her arm with lidded eyes. Even in her half-sleep state, she didn’t miss the way the girls elbowed each other and gave knowing glances.

Now, Azzi stares at Paige, who lays sleeping just next to her, hair all splayed out and mouth hanging open. Azzi smiles softly at her. She and Paige have slept in the same bed hundreds—maybe thousands—of times, but this is different, because Azzi is allowing herself to pretend that it is. She imagines reaching out and waking Paige the same way Paige woke her last night, gently and lovingly, and then sharing a lazy morning together as a couple where they joke about morning breath and talk about their plans and hold each other.

But Paige grumbles, then shifts and blinks her eyes open, rubbing them a little before finding Azzi laying next to her. She smiles, but it’s not the same smile from last night—it’s not that tender, adoring smile, but rather the one Azzi is used to—the wide, toothy, beautiful but friendly one. “Oh, hey. Morning.”

“Morning,” Azzi mumbles, her indulgent fantasy broken, and she reminds herself just how careful she’ll have to be while she and Paige are doing this. She cannot allow herself too many delusions, cannot let her imagination run wild with the idea that their act is real. She cannot let herself get burned by this.

“You kept stealing the blankets last night.”

Azzi lies onto her back to avoid eye contact, staring up at the ceiling. “No, Paige, you were taking up the entire bed.”

“Cap,” Paige says, shoving her shoulder. Rough, friendly. Sisterly.

It’s silent for a second and then Paige turns onto her side. “Hey.” Azzi can feel her eyes burning into the side of her head. “We did pretty good last night, yeah? We seemed super in love and shit?”

Azzi doesn’t chance a glance over, staring stubbornly at the ceiling. “Yeah, P,” she agrees. “We did.”

——————————————

Finals come far too fast.

The last month of school is always hectic, and this year has been no different—Azzi’s spent the vast majority of her time studying, drinking her nostalgia away with friends, and then more studying on top of that.

Oh, and pretending to be in a committed relationship with Paige. That too.

Some days are easier than others—it’s not like they’re being forced to undress each other in front of an audience or anything. They haven’t even had to utilize pet names much. But it’s still…different. So different. Paige was touchy-feely with Azzi even before they started ‘dating’, so now, if they ever sit more than an inch apart or walk somewhere without wrapping their arms around each other, they get strange glances from their friends. A couple mornings ago, they were so hungover that they forgot about their whole act, and when they’d stumbled out of Paige’s room and began making breakfast without so much as a word to each other, KK had abrasively asked if their was ‘trouble in paradise’. Paige was all over her the rest of the day. After two weeks, Azzi is starting to get used to it.

At least they haven’t had to kiss. They haven’t even discussed it, and Azzi has been specifically avoiding that topic of conversation. She knows herself well enough to know that she can’t kiss her best friend and act normal about it.

Later, Azzi will curse herself for thinking this without knocking on wood after.

“So, we all know the rules of the game?”

“KK—“

“Girl, just answer the question!”

A pause, and then a bored chorus of yes’es.

“Yay!” With a big, tipsy smile on her face, KK places the empty beer bottle in the middle of the circle.

Paige groans and rests her head on Azzi’s shoulder. “KK, this is so fuckin’ lame.”

“For real!” Ice says from a few spots down. “We’re not in middle school.”

KK waves them off. “Girl, boo. Y’all are the lame ones. This‘ll be so much fun, you’ll be thanking me after.”

Everyone starts to groan in response to this, but Caroline, ever the mom, speaks up. “C’mon, guys, just play KK’s game.”

Unable to really say no to Caroline, the group shuts up. KK smiles excitedly. “Now that’s what I like to hear! Thank you, Carol.”

Azzi brings her hand up to rest on Paige’s back, and she’s proud that it almost comes naturally now, like her body knows that’s just what it’s supposed to do.

Nika breaks the peace a moment later with another teasing comment, which prompts KK to yell at her, and then everyone is talking amongst themselves, the room buzzing with late-night, drunk-college-students-before-finals energy.

Paige sighs deeply into Azzi’s shoulder, and she loves that she’s the only one who can hear it, who can feel it against her skin.

Putting her lips to Paige’s hair, Azzi mutters, “Wanna go downstairs?”

Downstairs is where Paige’s dorm is. Azzi’s is the floor they’re on now, and it’d probably make more sense to sleep there for the night. But Paige’s dorm, and more specifically, her bedroom, is where they’ve been gravitating to the past couple weeks. Azzi has always loved it there, the smell of Paige filling the very air, photos of the two of them on her nightstand, purple bedding so very Paige. And now it’s become something of a sanctuary, a way to escape their facade which can become cumbersome.

Usually, they’d be in bed by now, because Azzi likes to sleep early and Paige hasn’t been wanting to stay up without her. But Paige shakes her head at the question.

“No?” Azzi asks. “You’re not tired?”

“Mm, nah.” Paige glances up at her. “You?”

Azzi licks her lips. She swears Paige’s eyes track the movement, and linger for just a moment too long. She clears her throat. “Same.”

“Aight,” Paige says, turning back to her shoulder. “We can leave after this, ma.”

“Hey, lovebirds,” KK says, barely giving Azzi any time to shudder at Paige’s nickname. “Pay attention. You’re going first.”

Everybody’s looking directly at Azzi, and she shakes her head awkwardly. “Oh, no, I don’t think—“

“If you don’t wanna play, you gotta take a shot every round.”

Paige lifts her head up. “KK, that’s dumb. She doesn’t have to play if she don’t want to.”

KK smiles deviously. Paige flips her off, but Azzi pulls her hand down, rolling her eyes. “Okay, whatever.” She leans over into the middle of the circle, making Paige lean off of her, and spins the beer bottle.

It spins only twice before slowing down and, blessedly, landing on Aubrey.

The girls make a range of noises, mostly giggles, and then Aubrey leans into the circle to meet Azzi in the middle, smiling.

Once she gets close enough, Azzi whispers, “Liyah good with this?”

Aubrey raises her eyebrows. “I’on think it’s my girl we gotta be worried about.”

Confused, Azzi glances over her shoulder, and sees Paige staring intensely at them, bottom lip pulled between her teeth. The blank look on her usually lively face scares Azzi a little bit. She turns back to Aubrey, who also looks a little afraid.

“You’re good,” Azzi reassures her, because she is. Aubrey doesn’t know that Paige is just acting, because she’s the possessive type and of course, if she and Azzi were really dating, she’d be jealous even of her own teammates. But Azzi can’t tell Aubrey this, so instead, she leans forward and kisses her.

Aubrey lets out a noise, surprised, and it makes Azzi laugh because she probably should’ve warned her she was going in. The kiss can’t last more than two seconds before there’s a hand fisting Azzi’s shirt, pulling her back, and Paige is saying, “Alright, alright,” quite gruffly.

Azzi’s stomach does flips at Paige’s rough voice, but she’s tipsy (maybe a little bit more than tipsy) so she leans up to nuzzle Paige’s cheek rather than shying away from her. “Somebody’s jealous.”

“Yeah,” Paige says, “no one should be up on you like that.” And they’re obviously acting—but when Azzi pulls away to look at her, there’s something on her face that isn’t quite fake enough.

But then she’s smiling and saying, “Stop tryna steal my girl, Aubrey,” and Azzi’s heart contracts like it always does when Paige says stuff like this nowadays.

Across the circle, Aubrey takes her spin. It lands on Ice, and Ice is considerably more drunk than any of them, so the whole thing is pretty slobbery. The next spin—Nika—is mostly the same.

It goes like that for a while, a few people taking shots instead of kissing, and a few others taking shots for the hell of it. The bottle lands on Azzi once again and she fills her shot glass to the brim before taking it, needing to dull the feeling of Paige’s hand wrapped possessively around her waist.

By the time the bottle lands on Paige, they’re all pretty damn drunk.

Azzi knows it’s just a game, but she’s always hated seeing Paige with other people, and now is no different. Ashlynn laughs, because this whole thing is pretty fucking funny, but Azzi can’t help but sulk, glad to be under the guise of a relationship—glad she doesn’t have to hide her feelings for awhile.

Before leaning into the circle, Paige looks at Azzi and says, all lighthearted and buzzed, “Don’t pout at me, baby.”

There’s that roughness again, that tone in the back of her throat, and Azzi squirms when Paige presses a wet kiss to her cheek.

Paige and Ashlynn kiss, but they both laugh kind of hysterically so their teeth are pretty much just clashing, and when they’re done Paige wraps an arm around Azzi’s shoulders and spins for herself. And it spins, and spins, and spins, so many times Azzi gets dizzy watching it—

It gets to Amari, and it slows.

It passes by Inês, barely moving anymore.

The neck gets back to Paige, and Azzi wonders for one drunk second, What if it lands on Paige and she has to kiss herself? and she doesn’t even have the time to laugh at how ridiculous that is before the bottle stops, pointing almost accusingly at her.

The girls all cheer, oohing and laughing.

Paige laughs too, easy and casual because they’re supposed to be a couple, they’re supposed to have done this a thousand times, it’s supposed to be normal, normal, Azzi, act normal.

They should have known this would be inevitable.

Paige turns to her, still smiling but with a concerned, almost imperceptible furrow between her brow. Azzi obviously can’t refuse this kiss, can’t take a shot rather than kiss her girlfriend in front of all these people who know she’s her girlfriend.

So instead, she wills herself to nod and then she takes Paige by the collar and kisses her.

Strangely enough, the first thing Azzi takes note of isn’t actually the way Paige’s lips feel touching hers for the first time, or the fact that their teammates are watching them, wolf-whistling and giggling amongst each other.

No, instead, it’s the way Paige smells—the fact that the hair tickling Azzi’s cheek is sweet, vanilla, which means she washed her hair today. And it’s the way her hands cup Azzi’s jaw, cradling her like they do this all the time, thumbs rubbing gently against her cheekbones in a gesture soft enough to make Azzi gasp into her mouth.

She only snaps into it and really realizes, oh, Paige is actually kissing me right now, when Paige’s tongue teases against Azzi’s bottom lip. And it’s just for a second, Paige pulling away fast enough that Azzi thinks she must have imagined it, but it leaves her lip wet.

After that, Paige sits back, smiling at her but there’s that furrow between her brow again, imperceptible to anyone who doesn’t know her as well as Azzi does, and she’s stroking Azzi’s cheek like a tick now, like she’s trying to figure something out.

The moment ends when the girls all clap like white people on a plane, and Azzi isn’t even paying attention to the teasing and cooing, because she’s too busy staring at Paige, wondering what she’s thinking about right now, wondering what about that kiss made her feel so damn…safe.

Whenever she thought about her first kiss with Paige, she expected butterflies, light-headedness—maybe even nausea. Comfort, the thing you feel when you come home to your small town after a semester away—that was not expected.

Paige blinks, that strange look on her face disappearing, and Azzi realizes that she’s still holding onto the front of her shirt. She pushes her away teasingly, and Paige laughs, wrapping an arm around her as she turns to the girls, waving off their teasing remarks, and as Azzi watches her profile, feels the wetness on her bottom lip cool, she knows that she is falling and thinks nobody will be there to catch her when she reaches the bottom.

——————————————

The next morning, Azzi wakes up and immediately regrets it.

Paige’s window blanket must’ve fallen down last night, because the sun is shining through the room and it is…loud. She rolls onto her side to try and get away from it, and then that problem is fixed but another rises in the form of an abrupt tummyache. And Azzi prides herself on being a strong person, but as soon as she gets a tummyache it’s over for her.

Also, maybe the loud sun problem isn’t as fixed as she thought because her head is beginning to pound. She can feel it beating against her skull in time with the beating of her heart, and somehow that gives her a feeling akin to motion sickness, which makes her tummy hurt worse. She is probably going to throw up very soon, and should get up so she doesn’t do it all over Paige’s bed, but that’s where the third problem arises: she is so comfy. How can she ever be expected to leave this bed when she’s so goddamn comfy?

“Yo, are you gonna puke?”

Azzi groans. “Probably.”

Azzi’s facing away, so she can’t see what Paige’s doing, but she hears sheets rustle and then a pair of footsteps on the hardwood floor. Soon enough, Paige is standing in front of her, holding a hand out. “Come on, I’ll help you.”

Azzi looks up, and that makes her stomach turn again, the back of her neck burning. “I don’t want to.”

“I’m gonna kill you if you puke on my bed. Like, actually.”

If Azzi threw up on Paige’s bed, Paige would probably usher her to the bathroom, give her some water, and clean the sheets without complaining about it until a few days later. But Azzi still doesn’t think that’d be a good idea, so she sits herself up and is about to accept Paige’s hand when she realizes this is much more urgent than she thought. Almost as soon as her feet hit solid ground, the bile rises in her throat at an alarming rate and she has to run across the hall. She doesn’t make it to the toilet but manages the bathtub, which is arguably better.

Paige is there once she’s done, tying her hair up into a ponytail. “That it?”

Azzi spits. “No, I don’t think so.”

“Okay. Lemme grab you some pepto or somethin’. Hang tight.”

Once Paige walks away, Azzi wipes her mouth and all at once, like the tide coming in, remembers how the lips now coated in spit and bile were yesterday on Paige’s.

Of course, she also remembers the pet names, the affection, the flash of jealousy in Paige’s eyes that may or may not have been there. But it’s the kiss, the wonderful, tipsy, warm kiss that wrestles its way to the forefront of her pounding head and stays there, the memory replaying quite a few times before Paige comes back with pepto bismol and water. “Here.”

Azzi looks disdainfully at the bright pink medicine. “I don’t think I can swallow that, P.”

“Whoa, pause.“

“Chill,” Azzi says, rolling her eyes. “Gimme that.” she takes them from Paige’s hand and manages to swallow one before throwing up again, this time with Paige by her side to hold onto her while her shoulders heave.

“Aw,” Paige tuts sympathetically when she’s done. “My lil lightweight.”

Azzi rests her head on the edge of the tub while Paige turns on the tap, washing the bile away.

Azzi lifts her head enough to see Paige sit against the wall across from her. “Feel okay now?”

Her throat burns, and her tummy hurts, and throwing up in front of the love of your life is not a glamorous experience. But with Paige here with her, taking care of her, she doesn’t feel too bad.

If it only weren’t for that really good fucking kiss.

Azzi nods weakly even though she doesn’t know the answer, because saying ‘I hate the fact that we kissed last night, not because I regret it—I’ve been wanting to do it since we were kids in high school—but because now I’m worried I won’t be able to keep my feelings hidden for much longer which is worrisome because we haven’t even left for Montana yet, and also I wonder what this means for us and our fake relationship, because if it means kissing will become a normal thing I don’t know if I can do this’ would probably be weird.

“K, good. Thanks for not puking in my bed.”

Azzi smiles weakly at her, mouth still tasting like bile. How could Paige ever return her feelings when she has seen her like this a hundred other times?

Paige reaches a socked toe out to nudge Azzi’s calf. “Okay, you said you feel better, but you still look kinda…green.”

Azzi looks Paige in the eye, and manages maybe a second of eye contact before she’s thinking about how they looked at each other just like this after they kissed last night, and there it goes, the moment playing in her head once and then again. She can’t help but groan and rest her burning cheek to the cool tub.

And the universe should go to hell for making them best friends because Paige gets it instantly. “Oh, this is about last night.”

Suddenly the cool tub isn’t helping anymore. Azzi weakly shakes her head, but she knows the truth is showing plainly on her face.

“Yeah, whatever.” Paige pushes herself off the wall, wiggling her eyebrows. Azzi senses trouble. “It was a good kiss, huh?”

Azzi balks, then tries to reel it in. “That’s not…Paige…”

“Hold up,” Paige says, looking genuinely a little confused. “You don’t think I’m a good kisser?”

“No, no, but I just…” how can Paige talk about this so casually, like it was meaningless, something to be joked about? Azzi envies her lack of feelings. “Don’t you think we should talk about it?”

“Uh, I mean…” Paige scratches the side of her neck, and it occurs to Azzi that the bathroom isn’t an amazing place to talk about this. “Yeah, sure. If you want to.”

Not exactly an encouraging answer. Azzi strives on nonetheless. “It was our first kiss.”

“Yeah. Guess we coulda planned it better.”

“Yeah, I guess…” Azzi trails off. “Don't you think it was sort of…weird?”

Paige frowns again. “Damn! If you didn’t like the kiss just say that.”

Azzi hopes she can blame her flushed cheeks on the hangover. “P, I don’t mean it like that. It’s just that you’re my best friend—“

“That’s me.” Paige smiles proudly. It’s too fucking cute.

“And,” Azzi says pointedly, “I feel like, weird, about kissing you.”

She waits for Paige to answer, but Paige just stares, apparently waiting for her, too. Azzi sighs. “I worry we won’t be able to fake it well enough.”

“We did fine last night, didn’t we?”

“We were drunk last night.”

Paige makes a face. “I guess. But I feel like we’d do good even if we were sober, y’know?” She leans her head back against the wall. “And it’s not like kissing’s a big deal, anyway.”

Azzi’s eyes drop down to the tiled floor, cold against the thin material of her sleep pants. “Maybe not to you,” she mumbles.

There’s a shuffling, and then Paige is closer than before, nudging Azzi’s knee with her own. “Yeah, you’re right, that’s my bad.” There’s a silence, both of them thinking, and Azzi wonders if maybe Paige is thinking the same thing she is. About how their kiss last night felt…different. Different than a kiss between two friends, different than the other kisses with other people felt. And the look Paige gave her afterward…

But then Paige says, “Wanna practice, ma?” and Azzi was a fool to ever think they’d be on the same track.

Azzi splutters for a moment. “Practice?”

“Yeah. To prepare, in case we have to do it again,” Paige says casually, like it’s no big deal at all.

“I don’t think that’s…that’s not—“ Azzi cuts herself off on a sigh. Then she looks at Paige, really looks at her, and that’s when she catches the glint in Paige’s eyes, and she realizes—she’s messing with her. She’s taking advantage of Azzi’s obvious shyness about this whole thing.

What a little shithead.

Making a quick decision, Azzi leans forward a little bit, glancing down, then back up, looking at Paige through her lashes before she licks her lip.

Paige clocks it, tracks it with her eyes. Just like last night.

Azzi swallows down the nervousness and wills herself to be normal, reminds herself that this is Paige, and she has no reason to sink into her shell when she has the opportunity to take the upper hand.

“Okay,” Azzi says after a moment.

Paige’s eyes flit up, away from her lips. “Okay?”

Azzi nods, then lifts her hand to place over Paige’s knee, bare in her sleep shorts, before she dances her fingers delicately up her thigh. “You wanna practice kissing me, Paige?”

Paige swallows thickly. And then she nods.

Okay. So. That’s…unexpected.

Paige wants to kiss her.

That would explain the lip-ogling.

Azzi has half a mind to make the biggest mistake of her life and close the gap between them, but then she remembers they are sitting on the bathroom floor, and, ew, she just threw up. Twice.

Azzi manages what she hopes is a cocky smirk and leans away. “Well, too bad. Sick, remember?”

Paige’s eyes widen, like she’s just been snapped out of a trance. “Oh. Yeah.” She backs off then, relief coursing through Azzi, before she’s standing up and dusting off her shorts as she reaches down to help Azzi up. “You good to stand?”

Ok. So they’re not talking about it. Cool.

Azzi nods and takes Paige’s hand, her palm warm against her own as their fingers entangle for the two seconds it takes to go from sitting to standing, feeling a little dizzy from the altitude once she’s up.

Paige frowns at her. “You still look kinda messed up. How ‘bout you lay down. I can go get us some food? Gotta fuel up for all the studying today.”

Azzi groans, palming her face. “No, I forgot about finals.”

“Azzi Fudd? Forgetting about finals?” Paige teases, leading them out of the bathroom. “Last night really fucked you up, huh?”

“Yeah,” Azzi mumbles. “It was definitely the alcohol that did it.”

Paige glances back at her but doesn’t say anything, sitting Azzi down on the edge of the bed once they get there. “Okay, sit here and chill out. Lemme know if you need to puke again.” She smiles down at her, and Azzi smiles weakly back, before the older girl is turning on her heel and walking out of the room, closing the door gently behind her. Another door opens somewhere down the hall and then one of the girls’ voices mixes in with Paige’s as the roommates converse too quietly for Azzi to really hear. She sighs and flops down on the bed, hands wringing nervously at her stomach as she stares at the ceiling.

She has really gotten herself into some shit this time.

Her phone starts buzzing from its place on the nightstand, and Azzi straightens up to check it, her mother’s face flashing on the screen. Anxiety coils in Azzi’s belly at the sight of her mother’s contact, which usually brings her so much comfort.

Ever since she and Paige ‘came out’ to their friends, Azzi has been avoiding her mother like the plague. She knows she should just come out and tell Katie, but she’s not sure what she should tell her.

Azzi knows that Katie would disapprove if she found out about their little scheme, the woman avidly against lying. But if Azzi were to tell Katie what they’ve been telling everyone else—that they are a disgustingly happy, perfectly real couple—she’d be lying to her mother. And with Katie being her main confidante throughout her entire life, Azzi’s never really been good at that. She hasn’t gotten enough practice.

Not without guilt, Azzi lets it go to voicemail, holding her phone close to her chest afterwards, lying back down. She feels nauseous again at just the thought of lying to her mom. But if she came clean, would Katie make her feel guilty about it? Urge her to tell the truth, even if it meant not helping Paige like she promised she would?

Just as Azzi’s about to head back to the bathroom, Paige comes to the bedroom, leaning through the doorframe. “Toast’s almost done, Az.”

Azzi nods but doesn’t move. Paige lingers, sensing that Azzi’s going to say something.

Finally, after some internal debate, Azzi says, “What do you think I should tell my mom?”

Paige frowns. “I thought you talked to her already.”

Azzi shrugs. “We haven’t called. I’ve been avoiding her, but I feel bad about it.”

Paige bites her lip like she always does when she’s thinking, and it eases some of the tension out of Azzi’s shoulders, softening her around the edges. She leans against the doorframe, looking right at Azzi. “Well, what do you wanna do?”

Azzi shrugs helplessly.

Paige scrunches her nose (very cutely) and says, “Honestly, I don’t think we should tell her. Not yet, at least.”

Azzi heaves out a breath, not liking the sound of that answer. “You think?”

“Yeah. Have you met your mom?” Paige smiles fondly. “Lady can’t keep a secret for shit.”

“You’re right.” Azzi hadn’t thought of that, the fact her mom’s the town gossip. “She’d probably have the truth out before we could even finish telling her.”

Paige nods in agreement. “Exactly. Plus, it’s easier to tell everyone the same story, right?”

“I guess.�� Unsteady, Azzi pushes herself up from the bed, walking over to Paige slowly. “You still sure this is a good idea?”

“Even if I wasn’t,” Paige says, “we’re too deep in it now.”

Azzi looks up at her solemnly. “The point of no return.”

“Uh-huh.” Paige sighs out a breath, looking almost regretfully at the girl in front of her. “Sorry again, about asking you to do this. I know it’s kinda a whole thing now.”

Azzi’s shaking her head before Paige can even finish. “I already told you, it’s fine. We go to Montana soon, and before we know it we’ll be done.” Azzi’s stomach sort of sinks at the thought. No more flirting, no more cheek-kissing, no more Paige protectively slinging an arm around her shoulder while they’re in public like she’s telling everyone Azzi’s her’s.

Azzi manages what she hopes is an optimistic smile anyway. “Let’s go eat breakfast. And then I’ll call my mom back and we can tell her together?”

Almost as if reading her mind, Paige easily wraps an arm around her shoulder, pulling her close as she leads her down the hallway. “Alright, ma. Sounds good to me.”

@smiths-fan--13 @ch12334

[daydreamingyuta]

Mornings | Jaehyun

summary: fluff, a collection of mornings with Jaehyun over the years as you spend your lives together. word count: 1,127

Saturday August 10, 2019 [7:18 am]

You woke up, having hardly gotten any sleep, but energized as ever. Today you were meeting up with your boyfriend, Jaehyun. You two had just made everything official and your heart was so happy.

You go into the bathroom to do your skincare, and when you walk back into your room, you notice a good morning text from him.

Jaehyun: "Good morning baby! Can't wait to see you today <3"

A single text shouldn't make you this filled with joy, but it's from Jaehyun, so of course it does.

Y/n: "I can't wait either! Do you think we could also get some ice cream afterwards?"

Jaehyun: "We'll do anything you want angel"

You flop back onto your unmade bed, your thoughts filled with how lucky you feel to be Jaehyun's girl. You start to get giggly because you know that, by the end of the date he's going to cup your face into his hands and tell you how pretty he thinks you are, like he always does.

⸻

Sunday November 10th, 2019 [1:17 am]

You were supposed to be at home, already asleep in bed by now, but you and Jaehyun didn't want to leave each other. Each of you making excuses to prolong your date. Now it's one in the morning and you're on a walk, the street lit up by the moonlight. Each step you take, now unconsciously synced with his. Jaehyun hasn't let go of your hand once, and you wish that he never would. While you were enjoying your stroll, his mind was racing, thinking of how to tell you. He knew in his heart that you felt the same way about him, so he decided it would be best to just tell you outright. "Y/n?" He says, with a hint of nervousness in his voice.

You both stop and turn to face each other, knowing from the tone in his voice that he needs to tell you something important. "I love you." Words cannot describe how your heart feels in this moment. The way he's looking at you, like you're the most precious person in the world to him, was making you melt. "You love me?" You say with a teasing smile, tilting your head slightly. "So much y/n. I can hardly take it." He says, breathlessly. You stand up on your tippy toes and give him the biggest kiss you've ever given him. "I love you too, Jaehyun."

⸻

Sunday December 15th, 2019 [9:12 am]

The slight movement of Jaehyun cuddling more into you was the reason you had woken up. You move to get into a more comfortable position, causing Jaehyun to wrap his arm tighter around you.  “I’m sorry baby, did I wake you up?” Jaehyun says with his morning voice that you couldn’t get enough of.  “Hm, it’s okay. I love cuddling with you in the mornings.” Jaehyun nuzzles his head into your neck, “Me too, baby.” You fall back asleep, thinking about how excited you were that it’s almost your six month anniversary together. You can’t believe that you’ve been together for that long, the time feeling like it was going by so fast. 

⸻

Friday April 16, 2021 [7:32 am]

You knew something was up. You weren't sure what, but Jaehyun and all your friends and family had been acting strange for the past month. Like they all knew something you didn't.

You had just gotten a promotion at work, so maybe they all came together to plan a surprise party for you. But that's not really something you would enjoy and they all know that, so you really had no clue what it could be.

Today, Jaehyun was taking you out on a fancy dinner date, so whatever was going on definitely wasn't happening today.

"Good morning, angel." Jaehyun says, once he sees that you're awake. He's carrying a suit that he must have just picked up from the dry cleaners.

"Did you buy a brand new suit for our dinner?" You ask, confused.

"Yeah." He shrugs, as if getting a new suit was no big deal. As if he didn't have to spend days finding the right one for the special occasion. As if he didn't get the suit tailored to fit him exactly the way he knows you like.

You had more questions, but Jaehyun distracted you from them all by climbing into bed with you and giving you a million little kisses. You were in heaven whenever he did this.

Little did you know, that in only a couple of hours he was going to be down on one knee, in the park that you two visited during your first date, asking you to make him the happiest man on earth.

⸻

Monday May 16, 2022 [10:35 am]

You woke up with the waves coming from right outside your hotel window. You feel around the bed and notice that Jaehyun must have already gotten up. You hear a sound in the bathroom and know that he just got finished with his morning shower.  He comes out of the bathroom with a white robe on, his hair wet and messy, but you don’t think you’ve ever seen anyone as handsome in your life.  “Can you believe we got married two days ago, Jae?” You ask, unapologetically staring him down.  “No, I can't." He says, jumping back under the covers with you. "Did my beautiful wife have a good night's sleep?” You rest your chin on his now bear chest. “Yes, I did.” He strokes your hair as he looks down at you. “Should we sleep in on the first day of our honeymoon?” You nod your head yes, adamantly. You come up to press a kiss onto his lips and he cups your face into his hands and kisses you back. He pulls away, but just for a moment to ask you a question. “Do you know how beautiful you are y/n?”

⸻

Monday May 8th, 2028 [7:23 am]

“Mommy!” You hear as your oldest hops onto your bed, waking you up. “Mommy, happy mothers day!” She presses kisses all over you, making sure that you're fully awake. “Thank you sweetheart.” You say, sitting up so you can give her a hug and another kiss. She giggles in your arms and gets close to your ear like she has a secret to tell you.

"We made you something." She whispers.

Soon after, Jaehyun walks through the door, balancing your youngest in one arm and a stack of pancakes in the other.

“Happy mothers day, angel.” Jaehyun tells you as he sits the pancakes down on the bed and leans over to give you a sweet kiss.

[strangespinapple]

RC ~ When It Hurts P2

rafe cameron x fem reader

blurb: you and rafe are together. and lately he's been acting differently so you confront him. but what happens when you find out he's been lying to you?

warnings: angst, cheating, cursing, physical hitting, SMUTTTT MDNIII 18+ (ill tell your parents 🫵🏽🤨), dark rafe, kidnapping???

word count: 1.6k

a/n: mb about the late posting I meant to post this like a week ago but i got busy and im still mourning. enjoy :)

P1 Here

Song Inspo: Hurts So Good by Astrid S

He pulled your face closer to his and captured your lips in a cultivating kiss. It started off slowly and passionately, filled with love and raw emotions. You moaned against Rafe’s lips. With his hand on your jaw, he squeezes your cheeks to force your lips apart and sticks his tongue in your mouth. He uses his other hand to push your shoulder flat down against the bed so he can get on top of you. With that same hand he props himself up and moves his hand from your face to underneath your shirt. With no bra in the way he easily gropes your boob. He moans against your mouth and grinds into you. 

“Rafe pleasee, I need you.” He pulls down your shorts along with your underwear. 

“I can’t wait any longer. I need to be inside of you. Feel how warm and tight you are.” He babbled against your lips. His mind turning into mush from you turning him on.

You grab his shorts and underwear pulling them down just enough to grab and stroke his length. He grinds against your soft hand and kisses your neck. Your hands make their way to his back while he guides his tip inside of you.

“Fuccckkk” he moans in your ear as he pushes his full length inside of you stretching you completely. 

“Rafe, oh my go-“ His hard quick thrust made you moan loudly. 

“Baby you feel so fucking good. Best pussy ever.” 

He grabs your leg and hooks it over his arm allowing him to slide even deeper inside of you. Both of your moans reach a new octave from the new found pleasure. 

“Right there, right fucking there Rafe.” 

Listening to you, he slides right in that spot drawing you super close to your climax. You have always loved when Rafe gets like this during sex. Something about him being so horny and turned on that he starts babbling, whining, or thrusting into you erratically, always pushes you over the edge. 

“You’re squeezing me. I’m not gonna last, I’m not-“ 

Rafe starts thrusting inside of you at a faster sloppier pace. Your back arches and your legs shake as your climax hits you. Rafe moans loudly as his hips stutter against you. His cum spreads within you, painting your walls white. Rafe gets up and grabs a rag from the bathroom inside of y’all shared room. He wipes in between your legs and afterwards does the same thing to himself. He throws the rag in a nearby bin and gets into the bed with you.

“I love you and I’ll always love you.” He grabs your face and kisses you.

“I love you too baby, and I trust you.” 

“Let’s get some sleep so I can make it up to you all day tomorrow.” You smile as you kiss his lips once last time. 

You roll on your side and Rafe cuddles you from behind spooning you. You close your eyes as sleepiness comes over you. Smiling at how content you feel, knowing that your boyfriend will never cheat on you.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

4 Hours Later…

Your eyes open at this incessant buzzing. 

Buzz Buzz

Looking at the clock on your nightstand it’s almost 4am. You turn over to Rafe’s side of the bed to see he is no longer cuddling you and is facing his nightstand.

“Rafey” you whisper thinking he may be awake. You peek over at him and see that he is fast asleep, but his phone is lightening up and buzzing. 

Buzz Buzz Buzz

You think to yourself ‘it might be important with his family or something’ with the way his phone is going off. So you lean over Rafe grabbing his phone without trying not to wake him up. 

Sophia: “Rafe are you coming over or what????” “I'm not gonna stay waiting for you forever” “Come on I need you like real real bad and I know you need me too 😩🤭” *sends a past video of them fucking* “We had such fun times together. Remember yesterday we fucked ALLL day long and it was so much fun”

He told you he was backed up in meetings all day yesterday.

“Seriously Rafe don’t you want all this. Cuz I know you did yesterday.” “Rafeeeeeeeeyyyyyy come on” “I'm so much better than her, I don’t understand why you spend so much time with your loser of a girlfriend” “UGHHH you fell asleep didn’t you ☹️🥺” “Fine call me in the morning babe 😚”

Not only did your heart drop into your ass but it also shattered. How could he do this to you?! You have been nothing but an amazing supportive girlfriend and he has the nerve to cheat on you. Tears start to roll down your face from the hurt. But then it hits you. HE LIED TO YOU. Those tears turned into anger real quick. You turn the light on, grab your pillow from behind you and hit Rafe with all your might. Over and over and over again you beat the man who you thought loved you.

Rafe jumps up, snatching the pillow out of your hands. “WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU?!”

“YOU! YOU ARE WHAT’S WRONG WITH ME. HOW COULD YOU?!” You both get up standing on both sides of the bed.

“HOW COULD I WHAT? DO YOU KNOW WHAT TIME IT IS? I DON’T WANT TO DEAL WITH THIS SHIT I’M TIRED!”

“YEAH I BET YOU ARE FROM ALL THE SECRETS YOUR HIDING. YOU LYING CHEATING PIECE OF SHIT.” You hold his phone up to his eye view with the messages his mistress sent him. He stares at you with wide eyes. 

“You went through my phone? What kind of girlfriend does that?”

“OH NO DON’T YOU DARE TRY TO TURN THIS AROUND ON ME. YOUR PHONE WAS GOING OFF AND I THOUGHT IT WAS AN EMERGENCY SO I PICKED IT UP.”

Rafe starts biting his nails, a habit you’ve been trying to break him out of since you guys first started dating. Oh but now you couldn’t give two shits. He could bite his nails until he hits bone for all you care. 

“IT WAS YOUR LITTLE SLUT BEGGING YOU TO COME OVER AND FUCK HER LIKE YOU ALWAYS DO.” 

You throw his phone at him and speed walk into your closet. You pull out a small suitcase and start throwing some of your essentials in it. Rafe is still standing at the foot of the bed biting his nails, waiting for your next move. You come back to the room and throw the suitcase on the bed. 

“Wha- What are you doing?” You continue packing your things not looking at him.

“What does it look like I’m doing, I’m leaving.” 

“What do you mean you’re leaving? You can’t leave. You can’t leave me.” He circles the bed towards you as you pack the last of your things. He begins to panic thinking you’re serious. 

“I am leaving Rafe. You cheated on me and lied to me multiple times.” You zip the suitcase up and walk out of the room, going down the stairs, making your way to the front door. 

“Wait, you can’t leave. I’m sorry. I’m sorry baby.” 

He rushes in front of you blocking you from reaching the door at the bottom of the staircase. He grabs your shoulders to keep you in front of him. 

“I fucked up okay cause I’m a fuck up. I’m sorry you’re the one good thing in my life and I need you. I promise I will never hurt you again I’m so fucking stupid.”

 He takes a deep breath to stop himself from rambling over his sobs. 

“Just please, please don’t leave me. I’m sorry.” His eyes red and hands shaking from the crying and fear of losing you. 

Looking down at the floor, you push his hands off of your shoulders.

“Look Rafe, I can't be with you. You cheated on me and you broke my heart. Even if I were to forgive you, I can never trust you again. And honestly I thought you loved me.” You say finally looking up at him through your wet lashes.

“I do! I promise I do.” The tears streaming nonstop on both of your faces. 

When it hurts but it hurts so good Do you take it? Do you break it off?

“If you did, then you wouldn’t have betrayed me. I can’t do this with you anymore. I’m done, we’re done.” 

Rafe could’ve sworn he felt his heart stop. You really weren’t playing around. He realized he really fucked up and there’s no coming back from this. You move towards the door and place your hand on the knob starting to twist it when you hear Rafe speak.

“I’m sorry-”

“Me too.” You slowly open the front door. 

When it hurts but it hurts so good Can you say it? Can you say it?

“but I can’t let you go.” 

Before you had a chance to react you felt one strong callous hand wrap around your mouth while the other wrapped around your body. You dropped your bag screaming and kicking as Rafe lifted you up. You hoped someone would hear you but your kicking closed the door shut. Rafe's hand starts to press harder and harder on your mouth putting pressure on your throat. 

“Shhh go to sleep. I promise when you wake up I will fix everything.”

Your eyes began to feel heavy as well as your body. Rafe always told you that he would never hurt you but he was terrified of losing you. 

Fear and love can turn the sweetest person into a monster.  

Your love is like (hey, na-na-na, na-na) It hurts so good

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

P1 Here

hey y'all! so how did y'all like the fic? constructive criticism is always accepted!

do you guys want a part 3? if so lmk which direction it should go :)

[bonthefuckjourx]

Lucifer x Sinner!reader (Hazbin Hotel)

   SUMMARY: You wake up in Hell and realize you didn't make the cut into Heaven. You never did anything evil, but never believed in God. You wanted to live life by your own morals. Little did you know a group of hazbins would take you in and show you more kindness than anyone on Earth ever did. Then you met someone you never thought you would, Lucifer, the King of Hell. Then you did something you never thought you would, make a deal with the devil.

Word Count: 3300k+

WARNINGS: smut

A/N: I am so excited to give you guys this chapter! I feel like we are actually moving now. I've been wanting to write this non-stop, so hoping another update will be out tomorrow. In the meantime, happy reading!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

CHAPTER THREE: I Did Something Bad

“I can’t believe he just kicked us out like that! I mean who the fuck does he think he is?”

Charlie was pacing back and forth in her office back at the hotel. The meeting went less than ideal as Heaven wasn’t forthcoming on her idea. Not only did they rudely kick us out and fling her papers everywhere, but they also increased the Extermination date. It put you on edge how much the angels enjoyed it. You spent the last extermination boarded up in a crate for the entire day. The screams of sinners and the laughter of the angels haunted you in your sleep.

            “I mean it makes sense that the first man alive was this egotistical asshole. “

You mentioned that quite a few men on Earth were like that as well. Of course, you were brushed off as Charlie wasn’t paying attention to anything but her own mumbling. After a few minutes Vaggie came into the office and you decided Charlie didn’t need you anymore for moral support. You closed the door behind you as you made your way up to your room. It had been a long day and all you wanted was to wrap up in your warm comforter. As you walked into your room you noticed a certain friend, Angel Dust, sitting on your bed waiting for you. His head perked up as you walked towards him.

            “Y/n you are not going to believe this. He sang to me, and of course I was upset, but he sang to me. No one has cared even to ever do that for me. Afterwards he was so understanding, and we took a walk together. I mean it’s like we’re practically dating.”

            Angel Dust wrung his hands has he watched you sit next to him on your bed.

            “Did you guys’ kiss at all?”

            “Well, no, but y/n I was so nervous, and for once this is something I want to work out. I can’t afford to mess it up.” He was nervous as he looked to you for support.

            “That’s a good thing. It means you really care. I’m glad you want to take things slow for once, it’ll be good for the both of you.” Your hand gripped his shoulder as you tried to comfort him.

            “Thanks y/n. I guess I just wanted confirmation that I’m doing the right thing. I really like him.”

            “I know you do. It’ll all work out I promise.” You laid back on your bed, closing your eyes briefly. It wasn’t long before he spoke up.

            “So how was your date with the King of Hell?” You opened your eyes, glaring daggers at him. In turn he was smirking at you expecting a response.

            “It wasn’t a date, and you know it. “

            “Well practically, right? You went over to his house, that’s close enough. Did ya do anything? Tell me how big the King’s cock-“

            “Angel Dust! Nothing even happened! We had some snacks and something to drink and we talked.”

            “You. Talked?” He looked at you as if he didn’t believe you. Perhaps he knew you too well by now. You caved in.

            “Well, we did talk, but he also touched my face again and when he looked into my eyes I just couldn’t look away and then next thing I know he’s leaning me over the couch and he’s kissing me and oh my god he just touched me, Angel. Something like that has never happened to me before. It left so different, so alive. It was like his magic was all around, intoxicating me.” You spoke with your hands as well trying to have him understand just how much everything was. You dropped your hands to your sides as you stared at the ceiling, waiting for a response.

            “That’s amazing y/n, but if you ever tell the story to someone else, I advise you to leave out the part where you mention his rival. I’m pretty sure he would be less than happy to hear God’s name coming off your lips rather than his.” A blush overcame your face as you thought of saying his name repeatedly in desperation. It’s horrible just how much he ended up in your thoughts. It’s even worse most of those thoughts are less than clean.

            “Angel, I don’t even know what to do. It’s like he’s a drug to me. Something about it feels so wrong, but so very right. I mean he’s Charlie’s dad, and Charlie also has a mom. Not to mention Lucifer is how many centuries old? I was only 21 when I died. I feel like we could never actually work out. We have so many differences, but there is the trouble between Heaven and Hell. Not to mention we are trying to rehabilitate into Heaven, right? I don’t know if I even want to at this point.” Tears welled up in your eyes at all the impossibilities.

            “Maybe you should take it slow then, like me and Husk. Just be friends.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After Angel left you sat in your bed for a long while. Tears came and they went and eventually you even wrote a bit in your journal. Being friends made sense even though every part of you wanted more. It would be best to be friends until this whole thing with Heaven blew over. If you could convince yourself that you were just friends with him, then maybe you could convince Charlie this was a one-time thing. Speaking of which, you needed to stand up and actually go see her. Ten minutes later you found yourself in front of her bedroom door. You knocked waiting for her to open. Almost immediately it opened, making you wonder if the Morningstars had some more magic up their sleeves than you knew about.

            “Y/n. Hey come in.”

            “Sorry for not coming to you after we came back. I was emotionally tapped out.” You walked inside as she ushered you over to a sitting area she had. A small couch was on one side as a cushioned hair was on the other.

            “It’s okay I understand. However, you might want to explain what exactly is happening between you and my father.” She sat down on the chair leaving the small couch to you. As you set down you rubbed your sweaty hands on your thighs. Charlie looked at you expectantly.

            “Well as you know I really can’t go outside. It’s one of my fears after my death and I just go into panic mode. A couple of weeks ago when he visited the hotel, he found me near a balcony. I admitted to my fear, and he offered to help me overcome it. He brought me to his study. It has these huge windows that look over the city and in a way it helped. I asked him if he would help me with going outside in the future and he said he would. That’s how we ended up traveling together to the embassy today.”

            “That much I gathered but thank you for confiding in me. I understand it takes courage to bring up fears. You still didn’t explain to me, how do I put it, how my father became disheveled.” You looked away from her, baring an awkward smile, hugging your sides. She waited when you were ready.

            “Yes that… He teleported me to his mansion first. There was time so we talked, and one thing led to another. I don’t plan to continue these actions. I do want to become friends with him, but right now it’s too messy. Not to mention he’s your father and had a wife at some point I gather?...” You looked at her with a grimace hoping to not bring up hard feelings. Charlie didn’t seem to mind.

            “Oh that? They haven’t been together for most of my life. I do think it is a great idea you visit these feelings later. I’m all for following your heart, but for one we’re talking about rehabilitant you to Heaven! Not to mention he is my father and if anything does happen in the future, please encourage him to leave me out of it.”

You both ended up laughing together, satisfied with your talk. Your conversation turned to other things and before you knew it you two were chatting about anything and everything. Just like it used to be. There was a reason she chooses you to help her around the hotel. You shared very similar aspirations as her. The only difference was you were not hell born, although sometimes you wished you were. Sinners could not leave the ring of pride, not to mention hell born often thought less of sinners. They could be powerful yes, but sinners could only reproduce if they had a hell born. Many of them didn’t want to touch sinners. It was an afterlife, but it was apparently meant to be a punishment. Many things in the city weren’t there to make sinner’s lives easier.

Eventually you left to retire to your room as you both were becoming tired. You changed into your pajamas and plaited your hair for bed. Your cell phone rang then and as you glanced at it on your vanity you realized it was from Luci. You nearly fell out of your chair. The rings continued as you thought of what to say. You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding and answered the call.

“Hi Luci.”

“Hey y/n. I know it’s late, but I just wanted to hear your voice. I’m sure you know; the nights are the longest.” He sounded tired and sadness tinged his words. You picked up your phone and ventured over to your bed. Laying down you set your phone on your chest as you stared at the ceiling listening to his voice.

“Yea I know about that all too well.”

“Can I ask you something?”

“Sure, Luci.”

“Do you ever feel like no matter how hard you try you make everything worse?”

“Sometimes.”

“Do I really make everything worse?”

“You helped make me feel better. Didn’t you?”

“I suppose.”

“Then no, you don’t make everything worse.” He let out a small sigh. There was silence for a long time. The only thing you could hear was his breathing trying to keep it together.

“It just feels like it. For centuries I’ve been stuck down here because I tried to give humanity free will. I tried to give them this gift to create and invent and live their lives in amazing, beautiful ways. But it backfired. They snatched what I gave them and threw it down the gutter.” He was speaking behind broken words at this point. The emotion in his voice threatening to break it.

“Luci that’s not your fault. You were doing something good. It’s not your fault the others didn’t agree.”

“Then there’s also Lilith. I thought we had something good. We had Charlie, a real family y/n, and then she left.” His voice wavered with every word. It was heartbreaking.

“I’m sorry she left, but you have Charlie and look at all the good she is doing. You made her for the better. “

“Yea I guess my daughter is pretty amazing.”

“I don’t know much about you and Lilith splitting, but anyone would be wrong to leave you. You deserve happiness even at your worst.”

“Thank you, y/n.”

“You’re welcome.”

You both sat there listening to each other’s breaths. Waiting for the other to break the silence once again. He spoke up first.

“Can I ask you something else?”

“Anything.”

“Can I give you a nickname? Like you gave me mine, Luci.” Your heart pounded in your chest. Friends can give each other nicknames, right?

“Seems only fair,” you spoke softly with a smile on your face.

“Duckling. Just like my best creation.”

“I love it.” Your heart was full, but ached at what you knew you needed to explain.

“Luci, can I ask you something?”

“Of course, my Duckling.” He sounded suave, confidence now in his voice.

“I need us to be just friends.” He sucked in a breath holding it across the line. There was silence for quite a while.

“I understand.” His voice was low now and cut off. The emotion gone. Had he become accustomed to shutting people out?

“Luci it’s not like that. I like you and I loved the time we spent together it’s just too fast. We barely know each other and there is turmoil between Hell and Heaven. I know it must be more than the extermination and I’m worried it’s going to be worse before it is better. Plus, the whole thing with Charlie, it’s a mess. But you’re my mess, together we’re this horrible pile of sin and lost hope. Just wait for me Luci, that’s all I ask of you.”

“Then I’ll be here waiting. Friends can still use nicknames, right?”

“Yes.”

“And talk over the phone late at night?”

“Sure.”

“Then tell me, what was Earth like?”

With that you and Luci talked for hours about anything and everything. From your music preferences to politics to even how high school was for you. He loved learning anything about humans. Thanks to him you all now could choose and oh how many choices did you have. You’re pretty sure any hobby you could think of you tried at least once. You told him about the instruments you played and art pieces you made. People you dated and people you hated. History was always so very interesting to you, and you relayed it to him in detail. Eventually it landed on the topic of religion and how Christianity seems more like a cult now then anything. He told you it had always been that way.

As the hours of the night ticked on, it became a good amount past midnight. You both were tired, but reeling on the energy you both gave each other. It was so nice to have someone to talk to again and bullshit with. He made you laugh, and he listened so very well. You would also ask him questions and you loved listening to his voice. This late at night it was a bit hoarse and husky as he spoke in a lower tone. He was tired that much was evident in his voice, but he also gave off other emotions. Those of adoration and love and home. Eventually his questions made an interesting turn towards your creative writing.

“So let me get this straight. People would write stories about fictional characters and then people like you would write completely different stories based on those characters?”

“Pretty much.”

“What did you write about?”

“Well of course it was mainly romance. I was such a sucker for fantasy romance. I wish I could get my hands on some here in Hell.”

“Romance. Interesting maybe I could give you some pointers here and there for another story. Totally platonic though.” You laughed out loud at the mischievous devil.

“That’s just like no homo.” You couldn’t stop laughing it was that bad.

“Just like what now.”

“I’ll tell you the story another time.”

“Alright Duckling. Let’s hear more about these stories. Come on I’m so interested!”

“Quite honestly these stories would be romance, and a good romance story needs to feel real. A.K.A most of them had sex. There’s something so carnal and intimate to it.”

“You know one of these days you’ll have to write me a story for me to read. I really want to see the genius at work.”

“Well, what do you want the story to be about?”

“I could just show you.”

“Now, now Luci. We’re friends, remember? You could just tell me.” He chuckled across the line and a blush crossed your face at your boldness. You are just friends! Friends can talk about these things, right? If you stay away from being physical with him it all should work out. You hoped.

“My story would start with a certain fallen angel and a beautiful sinner from his land.”

“That’s a good start. What else?”

“Well, he’d take her out to dinner, buy them an expensive bottle of wine to share, and chat about their daily happenings. As dinner would continue, he would stare into her beautiful eyes as he would knead her thigh under the table. She’d laugh and play it off with a blush crossing her face. At one point he would bring her hand up to his lips, kiss it, and tell her to slip off her panties. Hesitantly she would take them off, handing it to him under the table where he would hide them in his pocket.” His voice was laced with lust and made you tremble deep inside. Your deepest fantasies were coming to life with the sound of his words.

“And maybe on the way home this fallen angel would spread his wings and fly her across the city. She would hold onto him and whisper sweet nothings into his ears. When he would land, she would run her hands along his wings, daring him to keep them open.”

You could hear him struggling to keep it together on the other line. A small whimper left his mouth, and you wondered what he was doing. Wondered if you should do the same.

“He’d bring her inside, throwing her on his bed, taking in her beautiful form. His fingers would snap, burning off her clothing in angelic light. He’d use his tongue and lick over her neck and her breasts. Paying close attention to her nipples rolling them in his mouth. He’d kiss her deeply, running his tongue against her lips and nipping at her. His hands would run along her thighs, leaving little marks as his claws dug at her skin. She would be marked as his.”

Your breaths were matching his as you moved your own fingers to his imaginations. Soft moans rolled from both of your lips as you continued the story.

“She would wrap her arms around his neck, biting at the soft flesh there. She’d let him do whatever he wanted to her, and she left her legs open for his taking. She’d whimper and moan as he moved down towards her warmth gasping as he delved in. His tongue would roll between her folds, flicking up and down. Two of his fingers would explore and find the perfect spot and she would melt underneath his touch.”

“He’d take control then lifting her up from the bed. They’d find the nearest wall, pushing her up against it. He’d kiss her deeply as he lined up his shaft to her entrance. They would find a rhythm as she would wrap her legs around him. He would become undone. He would slow down and ease up, then increase speed and deepen the intimacy. At the end he would kiss her, mumbling intoxicating words as he wrapped his arms around her. She would hold onto him as if he was the air she needed to breathe. They would come together then, breathes slowing down as they listened to each other’s heart beating.”

In the end there was very little for you two to say. You were just friends but committed a dangerous sin. Neither of you cared but didn’t dare admit to it.

“Are we finished?” The man on the phone asked not wanting to face their consequences.

“I am, Luci.” You could swear you heard him let out a sigh of relief.

“Then that’s all that matters.” You rolled your eyes. This man never thought about himself.

“Are you as well?”

“When it comes to you, I don’t think I could ever have a different answer.”

Shortly after you two said your goodbyes, finally sated. An unspoken truth held in the air; you both knew nothing would ever be the same. You were spiraling down a fate you were afraid to face. You made a deal with the devil how could you think you would ever make it out alive.

For he was your Savior.

And you had a lot to repent.

[wolftoken]

Twilight, part 1 • iv x reader

a/n: i ordered the graphic novel!! just tier one because shipping was expensive, but im so excited!!!!

word count: 1828 • tags: gn reader, masturbation, fantasising, self doubt, reader is shorter than IV, awkward cuddling, falling asleep together, twilight movies

• masterlist •

Every single night for the past week he’s woken up at midnight rock hard and dripping for you. Dream after dream of pinning you down, touching your chest and biting at your neck, fucking you so good you scream his name only for him to wake up and groan in frustration at himself. Since you moved in he’s been attracted to you but it only got more intense for him as time went on. The clothes you wore that showed off your skin that made him want to reach out and grab you. The scent you sprayed on your neck every morning that seemed to linger after you’d gone, making him follow after your trail like a dog.

You’re so fucking pretty, it’s not fair for him. He just wanted a nice, quiet, clean roommate and he got one but at what cost? His sanity, it seems like. Sometimes he wished you would just bring home some fling and force him to get over his feelings. But that never happened. So he’s stuck with the swarm of butterflies that made a home in his stomach when you made a home with him.

It’s only natural that he’d touch himself to the thought of you. He can’t just walk into the kitchen with a hard-on in the morning, that would be inappropriate. But, then again, what if he did just that? What would you do? Maybe you’d get down on your knees and look up at him with those precious doe eyes like you do in his dreams. Maybe you’d throw water in his face. Either way, the thought drives his hand to sneak into his boxers and feel the pre gathering at his tip.

His hand moves quickly once he’s coated it in his spit, sliding up and down his thick cock and beginning to relieve the intense pressure he woke up with. It’s honestly embarrassing how little it takes for him to bring himself to the edge when he’s thinking about you. He’s always already so worked up from his dreams that he has to hold himself back at times so he doesn’t cum immediately. But tonight he just wants to get off and go get some leftover pasta.

He shoves his hoodie sleeve in his mouth to try and stifle his noises but he never realises how loud he actually is when he cums, or the fact that he’s moaned your name on more than one occasion.

Sometimes he feels bad afterwards, when he’s cleaning his cum off his tummy and trying to get back to sleep. When you were looking for a roommate you definitely weren’t looking for some guy to jack off to the thought of you then greet like everything’s fine the next morning. But really, what’s so bad about it if you don’t even know it’s happening? He’s not disturbing you, hopefully.

Once he’s tucked himself back into his sweatpants he gets up to wash his hands and raid the kitchen. His footsteps are light just in case you’re asleep, but he stops in the doorway when he sees you.

You’re right there, in the soft glow of the dim kitchen lamp, in nothing but a tank top and underwear. Is he dreaming again? Did he cum so hard he passed out and imagined walking into the kitchen to you half naked and reaching for the top shelf and stretching just so that your tank top lifts up and shows even more of your skin?

“Fuck, IV, you scared me,” you laugh. “Could you not sleep either?”

You could say that. Pasta be damned you look good enough to eat right now.

“Uh, no. I just wanted some pasta. Here- I’ll get you my hidden stash of gummy bears,” he says, and you know his annoyed tone is a fake one. He’d let you get away with anything and you’re starting to catch on.

The fact that you’re not addressing your state of undress is making him feel crazy. Maybe he is; maybe friends hang out at midnight in the kitchen in their underwear all the time. Trying to lift his gaze from you, he walks over to wear you’re trying to reach and effortlessly grabs the sweets. When he looks down you’re much closer to him that he thought you’d be and he freezes with his hand still in the air, but you seem to take it as a playful gesture and start jumping up to grab the bag out of his hand, all while giggling and making his heart stutter in his chest.

“Give me my candy!”

“It’s not really your candy until I give it to you.”

“Then give it to me, IV,” you pout, and it’s not meant to mean anything other than playful fake begging but dear god does it make his body heat up like a fire. His cock twitches in his sweatpants as his eyes widen at you, looking up at him with yours shining in the dim light like glass. He hands you the gummy bears, knowing if he tries to speak he’ll either come out with nothing or everything.

He watches you bend down to pull a tub of ice cream out of the freezer, and grab spoons. He’s not sure why you want all this sugar at this time of night but then again he’s not sure of a lot of things about you.

“I wanted these to eat while watching Twilight. Wanna watch with me?”

“Where-“

“Well your bed’s bigger - I’ll go get my laptop.”

His eyes widen and his jaw goes slack. You’re gonna sit in his bed? With him? Practically half naked? He’s just jerked off to the thought of you and now you’re about to climb into his bed with a tub of ice cream and a shitty film.

Maybe he’ll get to cuddle you - sneak an arm around your shoulders or subtly press his thigh to yours. Maybe you’ll lean on him and fall asleep and he’ll have no choice but to keep you there until you wake up. What if you think he’s weird because he’s looking at you too much? If he gets hard again he won’t be able to stop blushing, but at least it’ll be dark enough to hide it.

“You coming?” you call out. From his room. Fuck.

“Yeah, uh- yes,” he replies. His stomach is beginning to erupt with butterflies as he makes his way to his bed. God damn it, why do you have to look so good, so right, sitting in his bed? The top of your thighs peak out underneath his duvet and he knows his eyes linger on them too long but he can’t help himself.

Oh look, you brought an extra spoon for him to share the ice cream with you. How sweet. But then a thought occurs: he gets to watch you lick ice cream off a spoon all night. This is going to be either the worst or best night of his life.

Sliding into bed, he watched you with cautious eyes and tries to put enough space between your bodies without looking too strange. Obviously, by the look on your face, it’s not working.

“You’re gonna fall off the edge like that, just- come over here,” you giggle, although he can still tell you’re feeling a little awkward yourself. Are you regretting inviting him to your movie night? Climbing into his bed with no pants on? He hopes to every deity above and below you don’t. He’s been dreaming of waking up next to you after countless wet dreams that leave him desperate and aching for you and after tonight his wishes might come true. Even though there’s a chance you’ll wake up before him and sneak away to your own bed, or even leave after you finish your movies. He’ll just have to stay awake long enough to enjoy your presence beside him until you go.

But that’s going to be difficult. You’ve made him scoot over so that your shoulders are touching and the warmth radiating from you makes him realise how tired he is and he’s fighting to keep his eyelids open despite how bad he wants to look at you.

You’re pressing play on Twilight and he lets out a quiet laugh at the million ads on the piracy site you use. His eyes close involuntarily and he takes in the nostalgia the movie brings him. Bella’s “I never had much thought as to how I would die” speech makes him smile as he remembers watching this for the first time. It’s so bad that it’s good and it’s made better by the feeling of you pressed so close to him.

Honestly it’s ridiculous how much comfort you bring him. You haven’t even known each other that long but he’s undeniably attached to you and he hopes you at least think of him as a friend and not your weird roommate who stares at you in your underwear in the kitchen at midnight. If you did, you wouldn’t climb into his bed and pull him close, would you? You wouldn’t let him rest his head on your shoulder while his eyes droop shut and his breathing steadies.

When you lean over to put the second movie on, IV wakes up and realises you’re still here, so he couldn’t have been asleep for long. His hand has moved by its own volition to rest on your thigh, just above your knee, and his heart picks up its pace at the feeling of your soft skin against his palm. He recognises the intro to New Moon and feels you lean back against the pillows and relax, and your free hand comes to rest on his. Suddenly he’s a lot less worried of seeming creepy now that you don’t seem to mind his touch, and even reciprocate it, but he’s not sure if he should go any further than this.

It’s not that he doesn’t feel every single cell in his body urge him to squeeze your soft thighs and pull them apart and dive into you. He just doesn’t want to scare you. You’re precious to him and you have no idea. So, for now, his hand stays where it is and he doesn’t dig his fingers any deeper into your warmth skin, and he revels in the feeling of your hand atop his as your fingers absentmindedly graze over his knuckles.

You look sleepy, too. There’s ice cream still left in the container, half melted and you’ve dug out all the chocolate chunks while he’s been asleep. But he doesn’t mind, he’s just happy to be here with you. His eyes flutter with the strain of keeping them open to look at you for just a moment longer. He wants to see you fall asleep with him. But it’s 2am and you’re warm and soft and you smell so good. Maybe tomorrow he’ll tell you how much he appreciates you.

[ponder-the-orb]

Stay

Inspired by this fanart by the wonderful @abneyart

Pairing: Fem Tav/Gale, (unnamed tav)

Tags: 18+, smut and angst, post/during Act 2 romance scene

Word count: 3.3K

Read on AO3 or below

***

She isn’t a stranger to the feeling of new love. The fervent glances, the unschooled or unintentional touches, her stomach tightening to the pleasurable edge of an ache at the realisation that someone could want her just as much as she wants them. It may be a slightly different flutter each time but the joy always has that same sunny taste -something easy and new, a precious thing to be savoured. 

Not this time though. 

Because there was love. And then there was Gale. Feverishly erudite and a new kind of infuriating and who somehow slipped under her skin to tear up and remake her definition of want into something so strong it almost hurts. She should be satiated, excited even as she holds him in her arms, but she can’t. Every time she tries, the warmth is darkened by an encroaching bitterness, the same thought turning over and over in her mind until the words wear flat like a stone against the tide. 

How can she truly love a man so ready to let himself burn?

She almost doesn’t want to. She had a plan, or at least part of one. Earlier she’d murmured it to herself over and over again as that scarily accurate magical replica of him led her from camp to where he was sitting. She was going to push her feelings down, fold them away into the darkest part of her mind and let him down until she knew she could scrub Elminster’s message from both their minds. And then there he was, with an aurora painted in the sky and an almost painfully earnest confession, “I’m in love with you.”  There was never going to be any going back after that. 

The lightest scratch against under her collarbone pulls her from her thoughts. He’s shifted slightly, his chin nuzzling against her skin until a warm pink blooms in its wake. There must be a dozen pillows summoned around them and yet he seems perfectly content with his head on her chest, his hand curled under her shoulder. They’re both lying in the most comfortable bed she’s seen in what feels like months and she’s still not entirely sure where he summoned that from. The poster curtains are mostly drawn, but the light still creeps in a soft caress over both their bare forms, enough to forget the cursed land beyond even if just for one night. For once, the permanent pinch between his brows has softened, his mouth half open in what looks to be the most relaxed sleep he’s had since they began travelling together.

Sleep won’t come for her yet, perhaps not at all. Not if she’s expected to be content with the fact she can count the hours they have left tangled up like this on her fingers. 

She tightens her arms around him, breathing shakily.

She wants more time, the time stolen from them by this wretched journey. Time to discover each other properly- more than just their bodies, more than what she’d been able to glean from slightly flowery anecdotes whilst walking. She wants the mortal details most don’t know, the smallest threads of the tapestry that made him: when he started going grey, how dark he likes his toast and why one man can own so much damn purple. There’s purple bitten and sucked across his shoulders in a messy constellation now too. She presses each one gently, making a memory of how his face shifts as she does. She’d been deliberate with her mouth before, leaving bites of her passion that would shine and ache for days afterwards so he can still feel the intention whenever his fingers graze those same spots. You are wanted. Here. Now.

Even if he won’t believe it.

She presses slightly harder until his own grip tightens against her, a sigh warming her skin. She’s not sure if that’s what hurts the most right now- that it isn’t enough. For either of them. She could love him black and blue, take him to the crest of ecstasy over and over but it doesn’t take away the truth. 

They’d seen first hand the armies the Absolute commanded, the powers these tadpoles can give, how easily the most powerful minds can bend. Even if she knew what this heart of the Absolute was or had a plan to end it, what are her words against the command of a Goddess? A command that she was evidently too busy to deliver herself.

She knows it’s pointless to try and unpick divine reasoning but it’s still hard to swallow. She can’t understand how it could be so easy to sentence a person you once cared for to die with the same unfeeling cruelty as a child pulling the legs off of a spider. But Mystra’s wants and whims are just that… ineffable. Godly reasoning can never be boiled down to good or bad, selfish or wanting. Apologies and explanations won’t come. That’s something she’d been told multiple times when trying to wrap her head around the existence of the pantheon as a child. You might as well berate the sea for the vessels it swallows every day. 

She chuckles quietly to herself. A fool's errand perhaps, but she knows all too well that if it took the person she loved, then she’d try. Try and try and try until the salt dried her skin to shards and withered the magic from her soul. 

She’d never liked that metaphor anyway. The ocean can’t think about consequences or see the havoc it wreaks. Gods can. They can see and hear and touch anything they wish whenever their mood swings a certain way, somehow both omnipresent and ignorant.

It’s the reason she asked him to dismiss such a beautiful illusion of Waterdeep and bed her as far away from the cup of Mystra’s hand as possible. Her mind would have wandered, angrily. That if she turned away from Gale and bit down into the beating strands of the weave itself it might just be enough to make a Goddess bleed.

She has precious little other than the clothes on her back and equipment stained by corpses, yet when he kissed her for the first time she finally finally felt like she had something she could call her own. Would it really be such a selfish thing to fight to keep it? 

She laughs again. It’s colder this time.

She knows the answer is yes and she has no problem with that. There’s no fear of damnation- what punishment is it to be locked out of a paradise she’ll never want? She’ll wear the title of sinner like a crown if it’s cast on by a Goddess she’ll never have love for. 

The simple truth is she’ll damn the world itself if it means she can keep the man she loves whole. 

She traces the curve of his back and exhales softly towards the canopy, her words caught somewhere between a prayer and a plea.

“Please don’t do it.”

She doesn’t expect his half open eyes to meet hers as she looks back down. She stiffens slightly, unsure if he heard. He doesn’t say anything, just watches her in the dim light for a few seconds before resting his head back against her chest. She assumes he’s going back to sleep until she feels him kissing across her skin in a lazy pattern. The scratch from his beard is already strangely familiar and the tension wracking her body relaxes a little as he continues his unhurried exploration. 

Her fingers tighten in his hair as the swell of his bottom lip brushes her nipple. He smiles against her as he does it again, his tongue dipping out to lightly trace the same spot until her hips start to jerk underneath him of their own accord. She holds his head there, groaning as his hand joins in, brushing over her other nipple in a slow tease.

He stays there for a few more tortuous moments, a louder cry pulled from her as he gently nips at the skin. He lifts his head again, eyes bright and intention clear. 

“Yes?” 

She catches his jaw, dragging his face back to hers so she can press her answer into his mouth. “Please.”

She weaves one hand back into his hair, the other cupping the side of his face as he settles properly on top of her. She’s not quite sure exactly what she’s asking for, but she knows she needs him close. Close enough to keep safe, to push away all those bullshit expectations she can almost physically see weighing with crushing might on his shoulders.

Their kisses are messier than before. There’s still the lingering taste of herself on his tongue, a stark reminder of him burying his face for what felt like hours between her thighs. It hadn’t taken long to discover that he makes love with the same devastating precision as when he casts - pushing her to the heights of the heavens like it was the sole thing he’d been put on this plane to do.

She chases the heat of that feeling, grinding down against his knee in an urgent rhythm as he presses it between her legs. He swallows her harsher breath when she presses harder, letting her follow those blunt sparks of pleasure before pulling his leg away. Her frustrated cry dies as the hand brushing over her chest slips down to replace his knee.

She throws her head back, baring the column of her throat and his lips meander down to kiss that gentle curve. He caresses the length of her folds a few times, each pass becoming firmer. She bites his lip at the maddening touch, already keenly aware of how wet she is- desperate for him. Thankfully he doesn’t leave her in limbo for long as his fingers finally sweep against her clit, once, twice, three times.

For one of the first times since their journey began, there aren’t any words between them. All of them are lost somewhere between her heart and his lips on her neck. Any other time she’d be thrilled to explore the no doubt exhaustive list of other uses for his mouth, but not in this moment. Right now she needs to hear him say it, that he’s taking back his steadfast choice to die, or at least find her own way to convince him. If she can’t find her own voice then she’ll do it with her body: kissing, fucking, loving it into him until any thoughts of Mystra’s command are eclipsed by her own.

You deserve to live. 

She tugs his hair as he massages her clit more firmly, a familiar pressure he’d discovered with a smirk right before the first time he’d made her come. She rides that pleasure for a while, steady and hot as a candle’s flame. It sears right down to her toes as he slips one then two fingers inside her, curling and rubbing until she’s seeing messy stars behind her eyelids. Part of her wants to melt into the feeling and enjoy his fingers into her own end, but another part won’t let her. Not until he does.

She grabs his waist and rolls over, pressing him into the mattress. She leaves a deliberate kiss over the orb, then again like she can dive through that vile magic to his beating heart. She lingers there as she reaches down to stroke his cock, making another memory of the way his throat bobs and his eyes flutter- a sight just for her right now. 

His hand moves from between her legs to cup her hips and lightly brush the skin there. It’s a moment of sweetness in a haze of want, a reminder of exactly who she’s here with- someone who’s been looking at her for days like he’d pull the stars from the sky if she asked.

She holds his gaze as she eases herself down onto him, a rosier warmth spreading under each of his fingers as they grip her harder. 

She doesn’t need the stars. She needs to know he’ll still be there to watch them with her when this is finally all over.

She arches her back, crying out some strangled version of his name as he thrusts up under her. She follows that feeling, shifting up and down to find her rhythm. There’s no finesse here, just an almost primal need for him to find his own pleasure with her, in her. Whatever he needs, whatever she can give. 

He sits up, hands moving from her hips to lock round her back and pull them close. The orb pulses with an increasing brightness between them, bathing their skin in swathes of blue light. It had been quite the shock the first time that had happened, a sizable panic snatching away all her bliss until he’d reassured her it was the excitement and not an incoming explosion. 

She brushes those bright strands from his eye down over this neck until her thumb rests over his rabbiting pulse. It’s a small caress and her own reminder that he’s still here. That at least in this slick, desperate moment, he’s hers and hers alone.

She holds him harder and kisses any skin she can find, his neck, his forehead, the top of his head. She pauses there, inhaling deeply. Underneath the sweat and the sex there’s something else, earthy and rich like some freshly cracked tome. It almost makes her laugh because of course inbetween life, death and sleeping in the dirt he’d take the time to do that.

She leans back, taking in the sight of him even more. His hair is a mess in her hands and every inch of visible skin blooms with a deeper flush under the light. It breathes a strange sense of pride in her. To the world he’d been nothing but prim and proper since she’d first pulled him from that portal, but only she gets to see him like this: perfectly wrecked and wanting. 

He brushes her bottom lip with his thumb as she closes her eyes, pulling her focus back to his gaze. It’s more intense this time, like the look of a dying man finally seeing the oasis in the desert. It’s almost heartbreakingly beautiful but it pierces like an arrow through her chest. She pushes his face into her neck, her eyes burning.

Any other time she’d want to drown in that rum-dark want but for now she just can’t. She knows all too well what it means- how he’s clinging to this as some final comfort in his oblivion. She isn’t strong enough for that. Even the ghost of that feeling is almost enough to shatter her like delicate shells underfoot. She doesn’t want to be a bright spot in his final days, nor some happy face to think on when he finally unleashes it all. How is she supposed to hold herself together after that happens? To live with the fact that she gave herself so irrevocably to a man content to confess his love and his suicide in the same breath. 

Even with the wall she’d erected around her feelings, he has to know that she needs comfort too. Comfort from the parasite, from the pain of her own expectations, from the fact that the role of leader to a group of broken misfits was thrust upon her whether she’d wanted it or not. 

She blinks back her tears, a louder gasp leaving her as he moves faster. His fingers slip between them to find her clit and he rubs her in a circle until the hot spring coil of pleasure inside her feels ready to snap.

It isn’t fair, not even remotely and she isn’t even sure if she wants to curse or thank the winds of fate for giving her this. Or for making him so fucking easy to fall for.

He bites down on her shoulder as he comes, his movements messy and erratic while he rides out his orgasm. She roughly pulls his head back, muffling her own climax into his mouth as she finishes against his fingers.

He caresses the back of her neck as they catch their breath before gently pushing their foreheads together. It’s such a tender thing that it makes her want to cry all over again.

Don’t go.

“It’s been quite some time since I’ve been woken up that way,” he murmurs, his hands coming up to rub her shoulders. 

She brushes her nose against his as her voice finally finds its way back to her. “If you’re very lucky, it won’t be the last.”

Please. Don’t go.

He chuckles at the soft tease, dropping his face back against her neck. “Here’s hoping then.”

Please.

“Don’t go.” The words leave her mouth in a damp whisper before she can swallow them back.

His smile wavers against her skin. She winds a lock of his hair between her fingers, so tempted to hold his face there and stop him from seeing the cracks finally breaking across her expression. He shifts back, eyebrows knitting together as he softly touches the corner of her eye. She almost chokes when she sees the wetness shining on his thumb.

“What-”

“This isn’t your final night, you know. It’s… it’s not,” she blurts out, cutting him off. She sucks in a shaky breath, gripping onto his fingers like some desperate lifeline. He regards her carefully but keeps quiet, almost as if he can see the mess of words stuck in her throat like a shard of glass.

She sits for a second, grounding herself with the feel of his hands, his breaths. She hadn’t exactly planned on saying this with him inside her but she knows she can’t let it go now. She presses her forehead more firmly to his as if she could spill her intent right into him, no parasite needed. “There are going to be so many more. I’m going to make sure of that, I promise.” There’s more she wants to say, but it’s all she has right now. Something barely coherent, but as painful and honest as she can be- her heart split right open for him.

She tilts back and waits for the inevitable brush off. 

“Better to meet it on my own terms,” he’d said before. A heartbreak gift-wrapped as comfort as if that could possibly make it hurt any less.

It doesn’t come. Instead, a gentler smile settles on his face and he twists his head to kiss the palm of her hand. “Well, who am I to argue with that?”

It’s a warm touch, like magic itself spreading through her hand and into her belly. It’s not a confirmation nor a promise, but it’s something. It’s enough for the sourness resting at the edge of this night to melt away a little.

She lets him brush the tears from her face, his lips following the path of his thumb until they land back on hers. He eases her onto her back, squeezing her shoulder as he pulls out. She hears him murmur something against her skin and the stickiness between them is gone in an instant. 

Perks of a wizard lover she thinks, cupping his chin to kiss him again. 

“I mean it Gale,” she mumbles as they eventually pull apart, her words a feather’s caress against his mouth, “you’re not going anywhere.”

He settles back against her chest, lazily brushing his fingers over her stomach. “And so did I.”

His voice is soft and easy enough that it almost feels like reassurance. Just enough for her limbs to finally give into their exhaustion as he stills against her again. She knows come morning this calm will probably disappear back into the curse along with the bed, but for now she’ll take it. And perhaps in this brief moment somewhere between magic and martyrdom, she’ll even believe he isn’t a liar.

***

It only took 200+ hours of playing and three glasses of wine to finally write something BG3 related.

Again please give @abneyart a follow!

[dreamingofaizawa]

Coffee and Stitches - Part Two

Shouta Aizawa x AFAB! Fem! Reader

Warnings: None just an insane amount of fluff

Word Count: 8.4k

Author's Note: PART TWO LETS GO

Enjoy~

You’ve fallen into a nice rhythm with him. Working your shifts, handing Shouta a new sample or two, experimenting with more drinks. He does end up taking you up on your offer to sleep upstairs, and he brings his sleeping bag along with an overnight bag and spare clothing for himself. It’s only a few nights, and he makes sure to always clean up after himself and always makes some kind of meal for you afterward as some kind of payback. He’s sweet, and kind, and he may be blunt most of the time but he’s fun to be around. More than a few times you’d caught him stifling a laugh at some of the dumb jokes you’d make, and you’d call him out on it just to make him admit you’re funny. He’s helped you brainstorm a few of the things you’d need to change around the cafe for winter time, and you’ve spent a whole lot of time together after his patrols just sitting at a table and talking about nothing over whatever warm drink tickles your fancy as the weather gets colder.

You learn alot about him, his favorite things to eat and drink, his favorite things to do in his free time of which he has very little. He likes cats, but doesn’t have the time to take care of one like they should be cared for, nor the time for any pet really. You learn he developed his very own fighting style with that scarf of his and it took him six years to fully master it, the calluses and scars on his hands are a testament to that fact. He doesn’t drive anywhere, doesn’t usually need to when he can swing around and run across rooftops most of the time, but he does have a license to drive as well as an old car he rarely uses but manages to maintain well enough. You also learn he’s a ruthless but also merciful teacher. He’ll ‘flunk’ any of the students that can’t meet the standards for his course, but re-enroll them in a different course so they still have the opportunities that come with attending UA. He’s kind in that way, where he’ll witness a student’s limits and shift the course of their schooling to reflect their strengths and weaknesses. There are so many layers to this man that you’d never known, but the more you talk the more you want to uncover.

It was nice, the push and pull of your nightly interactions. Even on your off days you’d make sure to be down in the cafe, just to greet him as usual and meet him after a patrol for a cozy conversation. More often than not, he’s leaving as the sun rises, and the morning shift is getting used to having him around as a regular. You’ve grown a lot closer to him, and it warms you much like a drink when you think about the man. Today as you fall asleep, your mind drifts back to the hero. You’ve got it bad, huh? You’ve got to keep this thing in check. 

The low buzz of your phone is what wakes you up. Only half-awake, you probe around beneath your pillow and locate the damned thing, answering it without reading the caller ID. 

“Hello?”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.” The deep, tired, monotone voice on the other end jolts you wide awake. It’s Shouta.

“No! No, it’s fine, hi!” You sit up in bed, slinging your feet over the side to get your brain working at full speed.

“Hi.” It takes a moment for it to click in your brain that he sounds amused. You try not to giggle like a schoolgirl.

“Hi. Um, what’s up? You calling for any specific reason?” A hum sounds on the other side, and a small ruckus is unfolding in the background.

“Yes, actually. You’re off tonight, correct?” Well, today is…Friday? Which means you’re going to be off tonight and Monday night. Another overnight worker would be covering for you those days, since they have another job this is their secondary income so it works out for the both of you.

“Yup, I’m off tonight and Monday night, why?” You can hear some more commotion, maybe two other voices? It’s hard to tell exactly what they’re saying. He clears his throat.

“Actually I was wondering if you’d like to come over to my place tonight for dinner.” Tonight? For dinner? What in the world brought this on? And what could you say but yes?

“Oh, sure! What time should I be there?”

“How does 7 o’clock sound?” That’s in…4 hours?

“That sounds nice. I’ll see you then?” Whatever was happening in the background had calmed down, silence filling the line as you wait for a response.

“Seven it is then. I’ll text you the address. See you later.” He ends the call there, and your heart begins to race in your chest. Did this qualify as a date? You weren’t prepared for this. The first thing you do is text Rika, the only three words that would get her attention.

Date tonight. Help.

You hadn’t realized she worked today, and that her shift ended about three minutes ago, so when your door burst open and Rika shouted as she ran down the hall you were startled to say the least. Finally reaching your room, she runs over and grabs your shoulders, shaking you just a little too hard.

“Tell me it’s a date with Eraser.” All you can do is nod. She nearly shrieks.

“Okay, okay, we need to get you dolled up. I’m thinking a bodycon dress, sensible stilettos, bold but cute makeup. Hair! What are we going to do for your hair?” You grab her shoulders this time effectively shutting her up.

“Rika, it’s only a small dinner at his place. We aren’t going out anywhere. He’s making dinner.” You can almost see the gears turning in her head, the outfit ideas flying around in her brain.

“Bet. Sit still, I’ve got this.” You do just that, letting her raid your closet and throw a few combinations in specific piles on the bed. All of them are a good balance between casual meeting and dinner date. The last thing you want to do is make it seem like you want this to be a real date, because if this is meant to be some kind of ‘thank you’ dinner it would be embarrassing to look like you expected something romantically involved. She’s still buzzing around, digging through the little makeup you’ve got and putting together something sensible. You catch the lacy pair of underwear and matching bra she tosses at you with a frown.

“What the hell are these for?”

“Duh, for when he’s undressing you! You can’t go in without a matching set.” 

“Oh shut the fuck up! This may not even be a romantic date! And even then this would be the first and we definitely won’t be getting anywhere near that stage yet!” You grab a normal pair of underwear and hop in the shower, using the new citrus scented body scrub you’d gotten not too long ago. It would pair well with the raspberry lotion you’ve got, and that scent combo would be subtle enough to not overpower whatever meal he had planned. When you’re out Rika has an outfit laid out for you, and you must say she’s nailed your style perfectly. The layers are perfect for the cooler weather, and the jacket can come off once you’re inside. 

“Now, makeup. Sit.” You’re planted in your desk chair while she fiddles around. Mascara, very subtle eyeliner, a hint of blush and sparkly clear lip gloss. She touches up your brows lightly and once she’s done she sweeps your hair into a casual updo, all the while you apply the lotion to your body. When you’re all done and dressed, it’s 6pm. According to the gps, it should only take fifteen minutes to get to his apartment complex by car. You’ve got 45 minutes to kill, and you figured you’d stop by the liquor store and pick up a bottle of champagne. Rika agrees.

“Come on, we’ll take my car.” You eye her suspiciously.

“Your car? Are you going to take me to his apartment?” 

“Well duh, I’m not gonna let you drive! You’re not planning on staying over, so you should be out of there by what, ten? I can pick you up, easy peasy.” Somehow, you feel like this could be a setup, but you don’t voice that opinion. 

“Fine, I guess you can help pick the champagne.” With that you head out. The store has a much larger variety of champagne than you’d anticipated, but between the two of you the choice was narrowed to a white champagne that should pair with pretty much anything. By the time you actually get to the complex, you’re fifteen minutes early, and you text Shouta that you’d arrived. He sends you the floor number and the apartment number, and Rika sends you off with a ‘good luck!’. Shouta buzzes you in at the door, and once you’re inside you take in the decor. It’s higher end than you’re used to, but you supposed that’s the kind of thing a hero’s salary can get. Then again, it’s definitely not the fanciest in the world, so Shouta choosing to live here makes sense. He didn’t really strike you as the luxurious type anyways. The carpet in the lobby is kept insanely clean for how dark it is, the navy blue still very bright instead of dull and gray like one would expect. There’s a reception desk where you fill out your name and the room number you’re visiting, and the woman points you in the direction of the elevators with a smile.

The elevators are all chrome, the ceiling a smooth mirror that you gaze at your reflection in. You haven’t looked or felt this pretty in a while, you’d never really had a reason to get dressed up at all. The button for his floor is pressed, and the soft ding notifies you of your arrival. It’s easy to find his apartment, the rooms numbered clearly and boldly on plaques outside the doors. When you arrive, you knock, and wait patiently. The door opens and you’re met with the wonderful aroma of Italian food. Tomato sauce, cheese, oregano and all kinds of spices. Shouta stands before you in a black button-down and comfortable slacks, thank heavens you aren’t overdressed, his sleeves are rolled up above his elbows and the top few buttons of that shirt are left undone. His hair is brushed back into a low ponytail, the scruff that’s normally on his face has been cleaned up. Not clean shaven, but neat. It looks good.

When you’re done looking him over, you look up into his eyes only to see as he gives you a once-over. His eyes almost burn a path down your body, and when he finally meets your gaze he blinks and smiles sheepishly.

“Hi. Sorry, come in. I’m just finishing up. I hope you like chicken parmesan.” You giggle, stepping past him and placing your shoes on the mat beside the door.

“Hi yourself. Thank you for having me, I do like a good chicken parm.” The door is shut and you hand him the bottle you’d brought with you.

“I didn’t know what you were making, so I went with a mild option.” He takes it and sets it on the counter, and once you’ve taken your jacket off and hung it on the coat rack, he holds a hand out for you to take. It’s easy to place your hand in his, easier still to let him lead you around the corner away from the kitchen into a small dining room. The lights are dimmed just a little, a small round dining table with forks and spoons set for two, spaces left for plates to go. 

“You look beautiful tonight, by the way. I didn’t get to tell you earlier.” Heat rises to your face, the compliment making you fluster. He pulls out your chair and pushes it in as you sit, ever the gentleman.

“Thank you, Shouta. You look good too. I like what you did with your stubble. It’s nice.” You could have sworn his own cheeks warmed just a little. 

“Thanks. It was a friend’s idea.” You beam at him and his honesty.

“Well your friend has good taste.” He smiles back, then disappears into the kitchen. He called you beautiful! If Rika were here she’d be screaming right about now, you’re sure. The aromas from the kitchen are wafting through the air, your stomach gurgling just the smallest bit. You hadn’t eaten yet, considering you’d woken up and immediately started getting ready. So you were ready to eat, especially something that smelled so good. Shouta called out that he was coming around the corner with something hot, so you remained where you were and allowed him to set two small bowls of what looked like some kind of soup on the table, then disappear again and come back with two plates of the chicken parm. Once again he goes and returns with two glasses of champagne and two glasses of water. He takes his seat across from you, then clears his throat.

“So, this is no five-course meal, but I like to think my cooking is good enough for a date. So, french onion soup and chicken parmesan. I’ve also got some tossed salad if you’d prefer, but I didn’t know for sure.” A large grin spreads across your face, he’s just so cute and sweet.

“It’s wonderful, Shouta. Thank you. I’m excited to try it all, it smells amazing.” His own smile matches yours, and you dig into your soup. It really does smell good, and after cooling the spoon you can’t help but hum at the flavors. It’s perfectly seasoned, not overly salty, and the onions are caramelized perfectly.

“Shouta, this is amazing. My god, how long did this all take you?” He swallows down his own spoonful before answering.

“I started the tomato sauce and soup broth just before I called you. In hindsight, I probably should have waited until you’d actually said yes to the date before starting the cooking.” In all of that, the one thing your brain stays hooked on is the date part. 

“So, this is a date then?” When your eyes meet his, he seems cautious. 

“I’d very much like for it to be, if you’re alright with that.” You beam at him.

“I’d love that, Shouta.” Relief floods his features, and he takes the time to savor another bite of his soup. You do the same.

“I’m glad. As much as I enjoy our late night talks in your cafe, I’ve been meaning to spend time with you outside of work. In a more personal setting.” 

“I can only imagine, with what little free time you do have, that it can’t have been easy to find a time for this. Weekdays surely wouldn’t have worked.” He nods.

“I got lucky today. School let out early for both students and teachers, so I was able to get everything set up and prepare a meal like this.” It is a wonderful meal. He’s quite the home chef, though you’re not all that surprised after he’d made you so many meals at your place on a whim. The conversation is light and ventures around to all kinds of things. Your soup is finished off and the chicken parm is just as delicious, the sauce deep and savory with just a hint of sweet. You both sip at the champagne, but the water is the first to go. You ask him more about his life outside of work, what kind of things he’d like to do if he had the time, what kinds of places he’d like to visit given the chance. He’d love to see Greece, and the mountains of Machu Picchu. You’re surprised to find you both share an interest in ancient civilizations. You love the architecture and art, and he loves learning the bits of culture we can pick out from the ruins. The conversation continues long after your meals have finished, the both of you deep diving into the ancient civilizations you’d been obsessed with. You make sure to help him clean up the kitchen, not taking no for an answer, and you talk through the cleanup about random things. 

It’s domestic, and sweet, and makes your chest bloom with warmth. 

“Thank you for coming. I had a lot of fun tonight.” You grin up at him from where you stand near the door, your shoes not yet on your feet. Somewhere in your mind you want to delay having to leave, even just a little bit.

“I had fun too, thank you for inviting me. I hope maybe we can do something like this again?” His smile is infectious.

“Absolutely.” Your phone buzzes then, Rika texting you to say she’s waiting out front. Which means, unfortunately, it’s time to go. As much as you really don’t want to leave, you turn to Shouta.

“Well my ride’s here. I’ll see you tomorrow night?” 

“You can count on it.” It takes you just a moment for you to work up the courage to do what your mind is begging you to do, turning back to him after getting your shoes on. You motion for him to lean in close, and when he does you place your hand on his jaw and leave a soft kiss on his cheek. Your blood is pounding in your ears as you do it, the adrenaline making your heart race uncontrollably. He’s stunlocked, blinking down at you as you stare back up at him. You don’t know what you’re expecting, hell you aren’t expecting anything at all really, ready to turn and leave with a grin plastered on your face for the rest of the night. You’re surprised when his hand comes up to cup your cheek and he leaves an equally gentle kiss on your temple. It makes your face warm even further, the heat crawling up from your chest as you bite your lip to hide your smile.

“Good night.” He’s grinning while he says it, opening the door for you to step through.

“Good night.” You grin right back, and once the door closes you’re practically skipping all the way down the hall to the elevator. This is going to make your entire week, you’re sure. This was one of the best nights you’ve had in a long time. You leap into Rika’s car, and she can just tell from the look on your face that you’ve had a very good night. 

“So it was a real date then?” You nod, not quite ready to speak. If you tried you might just talk until you turn blue, forgetting to breathe altogether in your splurge of words. She laughs, beginning the drive back to the cafe. You can’t seem to stop smiling, and Rika definitely doesn’t let you get away with it.

“Must have been a wonderful date to make you this smiley. What happened?” You shake your head, not wanting to distract her while driving.

“I’ll tell you when we get to the cafe. You have some time to spare right?”

“For you, always. Especially when your love life is involved. It’s been years since you’ve been interested in anyone, let alone gone on any kind of date.” You roll your eyes, but she’s right. It’s been a very long time since you’d been romantically involved with anybody. Your life as of late has been consumed with the cafe, between opening a few years ago and scheduling and finances and insurance…It’s been a lot. You just haven’t had the time for romance, not that you ever cared all that much to put yourself out there. You can’t count the number of times Rika has begged you to make a profile on a dating app. Every time you’d refuse.

“Good. I’ll gush about it all once we’re inside.” The look she shoots you is pure surprise.

“Gush? Oh I’m sleeping over tonight.” Your grin only widens. It isn’t long before you’re parking and you almost sprint up to the apartment. It’s much easier to strip out of your outfit than it was to get into it, and the both of you get comfortable on the futon couch with a mountain of pillows, and she immediately drills you for the details. What he cooked, what he wore, what he said and what you talked about. After all her questions were out, all that was left for you to gush and gush about were all the little things that made you giggle and smile and the things that made you swoon. Like the way he kept his sleeves rolled up to expose his arms, the way his dress shirt and slacks fit his body so well, the way he’d swept his hair back.  You detail almost every moment, all the things you’d talked about over dinner and then some. 

“Rika, when I tell you this man is going to be the death of me.” She squeals, rolling over so she’s on her back.

“I’m so happy for you girl omg.” You grab her arm, not forgetting the one detail that is sure to have her screaming.

“I haven’t even told you the best part.” Her gasp is loud, and she rolls back over to face you, her eyes boring into your own. She’s intent on hearing this.

“I kissed him on the cheek before I left-” She squeaks, but you shoot her a look to wait for the rest, “and he looked shocked at first but then he kissed me back.” Unable to contain it any longer, she plants her face in a pillow and squeals, her feet kicking the bed behind her. The memory makes you giddy, and you hold your pillow close to your chest.

“I know. I mean, it was just on the forehead but the way he held my face. I swear I had little hearts in my eyes. If I didn’t know better I’d say I was in a sappy romance movie.” You talk until you pass out, the both of you so tired after hours of talking about the date. It’s almost noon when you wake up, Rika snoring beside you. She probably didn't have a shift today, so your late night date talk wouldn’t pose a problem to her sleep. Already wide awake, you busy yourself with little chores around the house. Tidying up the bathroom, maintaining the kitchen, sweeping the corners of the house where dust tends to collect. Nothing too huge, your weekly deep cleaning comes every Monday since you’re off. Rika wakes up then, diving through your fridge for anything decent to munch on. She groans when she doesn’t find anything she wants.

“You know the cafe is just a staircase away, right?” In her tired morning haze, she’d forgotten she gets free food in the cafe. She disappears down the stairs and you finish up whatever you were doing. Coffee wouldn’t hurt, you’ve been feeling like having something with white chocolate in it. The door opens and shuts, and you call out from where you’re buried in the closet to return your cleaning supplies to their proper homes.

“So what did you get?” The closet door closes easily, and you dust off your clothes as you hear the answer.

“Mac and cheese, I think.” That wasn’t Rika’s voice. You whirl, meeting Shouta face to face as he stands mere feet from you.

“Shouta! Hi!” His smirk is sly and teasing, and you can’t help the way you bite your bottom lip to hide your bright grin.

“Hi. You forgot this last night.” He holds up your jacket in his hand, and you take it graciously.

“Oh my gosh I didn’t even realize. Thank you for bringing it, but you were coming in tonight weren’t you?” He nods.

“So why not just bring it to me then? I’d have been down there.” The faintest tint of pink appears on his cheeks, and he can’t look you in the eyes.

“It’s kind of a selfish reason. If I’m being honest here I just wanted to see you again.” You do grin then, not bothering to hide it anymore. He’s just too cute. In the silence you can’t help but giggle at the bashful expression on his face. 

“Yeah, yeah laugh it up.” You go to hang your coat up in your room, still giggling out of joy.

“I’m sorry, I’m just very happy at the moment. A handsome pro-hero I’d just gone on an amazing date with not even 12 hours prior is now in my apartment, admitting that he’d gone out of his way just to see me. I could pinch myself.” With him still in the hallway you can’t see the blush on his cheeks.

“Handsome?” At the shock in his voice you whip around, stomping out to the hall, and you’re sure you’re looking at him like he’d grown another head.

“Uh, yeah. You may not be the most popular pro out there, and a plethora of girls swoon over that oversized red chicken, but there are so many women and men that find you hot.” He hums, a hand coming up to rub at the back of his neck and the tiniest bit of pink crawls up his neck onto his face.

“I figured someone was bound to, being a pro means putting yourself out into the public eye.” You nod enthusiastically.

“Yes, and one of those people is me. Like I said, you’re hot.” His other hand comes up to cover his face entirely. You’re sure he’s beet red under there and your grin is mischievous, the opportunity you’ve just been handed is irresistible.

“Are you…flustered, Eraserhead?” He peeks from between his fingers, a small ‘no’ muffled behind his palm. Obviously, you don’t buy it, so you push more buttons. Tilting your head sweetly, clasping your hands behind your back, swaying your hips just that tiny bit as you step into his space. 

“You are. A pro hero like you, flustered by something as simple as a woman calling you hot?” You lean way up into his face, which is still covered by a hand. His eyes widen just a fraction, and he barely leans away from you. Still you push, reaching a hand up to rest on his chest, toying with the collar of his shirt.

“You’re just too cute.” Suddenly his demeanor changes, the hand on his face dropping to rest on your hand, still on his chest. The other comes to land on the small of your back, trapping your other hand beneath it, and he tugs you close to lean over you. The change is so sudden you can’t help but arch the tiniest bit away from his face, which is mere inches from your own. Blood rushes in your ears, heart pounding in your chest at the dynamic switch. Now you’re the one flustered. He’s just so handsome and he’s right there, and you’re stuck in his hold. His eyes bore into your own, piercing and heavy and dark.

“You’ve got to be careful which games you play. You’ll get yourself in trouble.” The heat in your face feels like an inferno, your chest heaving as tension settles in the air between you. His hands are hot where they rest on your own, the skin contact and close proximity sends a tremor into your fingertips. You’re nervous. You’re anxious. You want to kiss him so bad.

“Shaking? Already?” He leans closer, your noses nearly touching and you swallow to help alleviate the dryness in your throat.

“I haven’t even done anything yet…”

“Okay, I definitely should have given you guys more time alone.” Shouta’s hands are off you in an instant, the both of you putting as much space between you in the confines of the hallway. Rika’s settling onto the couch holding a bowl of something hot, steam rising off the surface, and the grin on her face looks like the cat that got the cream. Her bowl is placed on the coffee table, and she faces you once again.

“However, after seeing what I’d just seen, I’m glad I interrupted when I did. You kids need to learn to keep it in your pants when there are guests around.” Shouta coughs at that comment with a mumbled apology. You only roll your eyes. The both of you walk toward the door, and you’re ready to see him off when he stops and turns to you.

“Actually, I’d also come for another reason.” He drops his hands into his pockets, his posture relaxing.

“In a couple weeks it’s going to be cold enough for the ice rink down the street to open up. I was wondering if you’d like to join me for some ice skating?” This time your grin is wide, joy leaking into your face.

“I’d love to, Shouta. Friday again?” He nods.

“Friday evening, in two weeks. 5 pm.” 

“I’ll be there.” The corners of his mouth tug out just a little, a smile pulling at his cheeks. He seems pleased.

“Good. It’s a date.” A date. A second date, with Shouta Aizawa. It takes every ounce of your willpower not to jump up and throw your arms around him. What in the world has this man done to you? He’s gone much faster than you’d like, disappearing down the stairs, and the instant the door is shut Rika’s comments begin.

“So how close were you to seeing him naked?” 

“Rika!” She throws her hands in the air.

“What?! It’s a valid question!” 

“No, it isn’t. Now eat before your food gets cold.” Her eyes roll, but she drops the subject. The next two weeks are spent as usual, plus the added anticipation of your upcoming date. Every time Shouta walks in the door you’re beaming, and you’ve noticed that slowly his smiles have become more frequent, however small they may be. You dare to think it’s because he gets to see you. You’ve already got your outfit planned out, a good mix between warmth and fall protection, and cute enough for a date. It gets much colder in the span of two weeks, snow beginning to fall regularly. Shouta’s hero getup didn’t seem to change all that much with the weather, but when you asked him about it he’d explained it’s almost an identical suit, just more insulated and a tad thicker and heavier. That made sense, he wouldn’t want to compromise the suit’s capabilities, but he’s also probably not very cold while sprinting across rooftops anyways. Now, as you wait ever so patiently for Shouta to walk in on Thursday night, your nerves are buzzing with excitement for tomorrow. You get to go on another date with this man that sends butterflies through your entire body. Mentally you kick yourself, being so giddy over a man so quickly has never ended well.

“You’re distracted tonight.” His voice makes you jump, the erasure hero standing directly in front of you on the other side of the counter. Huh. You hadn’t even heard him come in.

“Oh, yeah I guess I am. Sorry, I’m just excited for tomorrow.” His small smile makes heat burst in your chest. You’ll never get sick of that, even if it isn’t a full smile.

“Me too. I get to spend more time with a pretty lady.” That makes you grin way too hard, and you reflexively look down to hide that fact. The way he makes you so bashful is baffling, he’s somehow turned you into a lovesick school girl staring at her crush for the first time. 

“What, you get to call me hot and I can’t call you pretty?” A giggle bubbles up in your throat at the indignation in his tone and you gaze back up at him.

“I never said that. I like when you tell me I’m pretty.” His expression can only be described as smug.

“Then I guess I should say it more often.” Leaning over the counter, you let your elbows hold your weight and prop your chin in one hand.

“Not too often. You’ll give me a big head.” He reaches toward you, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. The action makes you blush but you don’t move away from his hand, even as his hand finds its way to cup your cheek.

“I don’t think so. I know how to appreciate beauty without spoiling her rotten.” You have to bite down on your bottom lip to keep the beaming grin from splitting across your face, but there isn’t much you can do about the flare of heat that washes over your entire body. His words are sending so many happy emotions flooding through your brain. Far too quickly for your liking, he pulls away completely, turning and walking to the door.

“I’ll be back after my patrol.” He calls over his shoulder. You don’t try to respond, he’s already out the door and swinging onto a rooftop as a light snow comes down. Now, with the space to breathe, you allow yourself to quietly celebrate the last few minutes. Nerves buzzing, cheeks hurting, face warm and all you can do is wrap your arms tight around yourself in a tight hug to keep from screaming out loud. The cafe remains empty for the most part until Shouta returns, albeit a little later than usual, and you greet him with a grin and a wave.

“So how’d it go?” His shoulders roll in a lazy shrug.

“Nothing crazy. I’m guessing it wasn’t much different here.” You nod.

“Yup. But it’s alright, I had something to look forward to.” One dark eyebrow lifts, a smirk tugging at his lips.

“Oh yeah? And what would that be?” You sigh, put on a dreamy smile, gaze up toward the ceiling as if there were a cloud playing your thoughts like a movie floating there.

“Just this handsome pro-hero. He’s a regular, always comes in before and after his patrols. I can’t lie, I always look forward to seeing him, you know?” He nods, playing along.

“I do know. I’ve got a cute cafe owner I like visiting all the time. On my really dead patrol nights I bide my time waiting to go back and see her.” There’s no point trying to hide your beaming smile, not when his matches. A laugh is shared between you, the cafe feeling just that little bit cozier in the cold weather. You stare at each other for a long while, the silence of the cafe stretching between you. His hair is damp from the snowflakes that had melted when he walked in, his cheeks not as red as they were in the cold air outside. You take in his face, the sharp angles of his stubbled jaw, his piercing eyes and the designer bags beneath them, his lips that you’d love to be kissing right about now. He really is such a handsome man. A handsome, tired man.

“Do you need to sleep here tonight? You came back late.” His hum is low and smooth, vibrating through your chest.

“I guess I did. Got held up with a punk at the end of my patrol route. I think I’ll take you up on that offer.” 

“Go on up. You should still have spare clothes up there.” He nods, then heads up the staircase. He knows the drill, if he needs a shower he’ll take a quick one before settling into the futon for a much needed nap. You really don’t know how he does it, living off naps and very little full rest. It’s a miracle he doesn’t collapse from exhaustion half the time. The rest of your shift is dead, and when the three covering the morning come in you let them take over. It’s easy to stay quiet as you make your way up the stairs, living here for a few years means you’d already memorized everything that makes noise. Shouta’s passed out, wrapped up in his sleeping bag. He didn’t even pull the couch into a bed, just hopped into his yellow cocoon and knocked out. You have to fight the urge to stuff a small pillow beneath his head and cover him with a blanket. He’ll have set an alarm for himself, so you disappear into the bathroom for a nice hot shower before settling into bed. You’re asleep the moment your head hits your pillow. Shouta is gone when you wake up, but that’s to be expected. He didn’t make anything this time, but that’s never been expected if you’re being honest. Rika texts you, saying she’d be up in a couple hours after her shift finishes, and you get busy with a light lunch for the both of you. When she bursts through the door the first thing she asks is if you’re ready for tonight.

“Yeah I am. I’ve been excited and waiting for this date ever since he’d asked.” Her shit-eating grin is not lost on you.

“I bet. What do you think he’d do if I locked you out of your apartment?” You stab your chopsticks at her face, shooting her a look that could kill.

“Don’t even think about it, asshole. The last thing I want to do is inconvenience him with a surprise sleepover he wasn’t prepared for.” If her smile before was mischievous, this one was downright evil.

“I don’t think he'll be inconvenienced by that, considering you almost got dicked down in the hallway two weeks ago.” Your jaw drops, a loud gasp leaving your mouth. The flames that creep onto your face is a mix between embarrassment and annoyance, and she’s laughing at you.

“Shut the fuck up about that already! You haven’t stopped talking about that for two whole weeks.” She’s clutching her stomach, doubled over the counter, cackling hysterically. It takes about two full minutes for her to calm down and wipe the tears from her eyes. What kind of best friend is she anyways?

“Yeah and I won’t stop talking about it until you actually get laid. You’re too pent up, gotta let loose, especially when you’re so against one night stands and hookups.”

“And rightfully so. Strangers are dangerous, especially when quirks are involved. Nuh uh, I’m not taking that kind of a chance.” She sighs, dramatically, and her shoulders sag then shrug.

“Yeah I know. You’re the only reason I’ve actually given those up, your paranoia is rubbing off on me.” Good. She needed to be more careful, one of her hookups a year back was making you nervous with how often he’d turn up looking for her. You still don’t know how he found where she worked. She’s blocked him and made it very clear she wanted nothing more to do with him, and he’s been out of sight, out of mind ever since. And since that incident she’s done exactly what you have, sworn off hookups and one night stands.

“Anyway, wanna see my outfit?” You spend the next twenty minutes getting dressed and having a mini fashion show with your skating outfit. Rika’s as supportive as ever, hyping you up and making inappropriately suggestive comments to make you laugh. Once you’re completely ready you take off, deciding it’d be nice to just walk to the rink since it’s only a few blocks down. A text is sent to Shouta alerting him that you’d arrived, but you soon see that you didn’t need to send it at all since he’s waiting for you at the entrance. He’s on his phone, leaning against a wall, and you assume he gets the text because his head shoots up and his eyes dart around until they land on you. You wave when he spots you, he waves back, and you get a good look at him as you approach. He’s got thick dark jeans on, snow boots that are probably waterproof, and a deep maroon puffer jacket over what looks like a thick turtleneck. There’s a fluffy gray scarf around his neck, matching gloves on his hands, and his hair is loose over his shoulders. He looks warm.

“Hi.” You smile at his simple greeting.

“Hi yourself. You look cozy.” He hums, shoving his hands in his jacket pockets.

“It’s cold.” You almost laugh at him. Almost. He can see you stifling your giggle and drags a gloved hand down his face.

“Yeah yeah I know. Come on, we gotta go get our skates.” It only takes you a moment, and you decide to grab his hand as you walk through the open gates. If he’s surprised by the action he doesn’t show it, his grip tightening around yours as you grab your respective sizes from the clerk at the counter. Your bag is deposited in a locker, and you’re on a bench pulling the skates on your feet. He’s done lacing his own long before you are.

“Do you need any help?” Yeah, you might.

“Honestly I haven’t gone ice skating since I was a kid.” He hums, then tugs one of your legs over his lap to lace up the skates.

“Let me know if it’s too tight.” It takes a couple do-overs, but once you’ve got both laced up comfortably you’re wobbling toward the gate on the rink. You’re nervous, it’s been many years since you’d done this and muscle memory isn’t going to be enough to keep you upright on the ice. 

“We can stay on the wall if you’d like.” You nod, a shaky ‘okay’ leaving your mouth. He steps on the ice first, easily transitioning. He must have done this often to be so smooth on the ice, but also he’s a pro hero. You have a much harder time getting into the rink, one hand gripping the wall and the other squeezing Shouta’s hand for dear life.

“You’re alright. Try not to be so stiff, keep your knees bent. There you go.” It’s definitely not easy, but it’s fun. Shouta gives you little tips, and whether you take them or not he encourages you to keep moving. It gets marginally easier to move comfortably across the slick ice, your legs beginning to actually move the way you want them to. And now more comfortable on the ice, you allow yourself to bask in Shouta’s presence. He’s so strong where he holds you upright, but oh so gentle when he pulls you along with him. His smile is lazy and sweet, and you can’t help the way your cheeks start to hurt with how much you’ve been smiling yourself. For a moment you have to wonder what kind of saint you’d been in your past life to deserve such a kind man to want to date you. Even if this doesn’t end in a full relationship, and even if you end up falling apart completely, you can live happily knowing that at least for right now, you’re happy with someone like him to share moments like these.

The sun sets while you’re focused on your feet, the dark bringing cold with it. Even though you feel like you’ve been running for an hour you’re freezing before long, and Shouta’s not far behind you. It’s easier getting off the ice than it was getting on, and your aching feet are relieved when the skates are yanked off and your comfortable shoes are back on. You’re going to be sore tomorrow, you’re already starting to feel the ache in your thighs and core.

“Are you hungry?” You nod, take his hand when he stands and offers it to you. He makes it easy to fall into step beside him, talking about nothing and everything as you make your way down the street. There’s a food truck you hadn’t spotted before that sells heaping bowls of ramen, and you find a popup table to get comfortable at as you dig into your steaming bowls. It’s a perfect little meal, filling your bellies and warming you from the inside out. 

“Thank you for tonight, Shouta.” He tilts his head, setting his chopsticks in the empty ramen bowl.

“So you had fun?” Your nod is quick and strong, a smirk growing on your face.

“I always have fun when I’m with you.” He matches your little smirk.

“That’s a pretty cheesy thing for you to say.” You shrug.

“Cheesy, but true. I really do enjoy all the time I get with you, even if it’s just for a few minutes before your patrol.” 

“Well it’s nice to know I’m not the only one.” For a minute you both sit there, smiling at each other like lovesick idiots. Shouta decides to break the little streak by taking your trash and disposing of it, then offering you a hand which you easily take. You take off back toward the rink, and Shouta offers to take you home since he’d driven there. Being as physically tired as you are, you accept. His car is exactly as he’d described, an older model, but he’s kept it well. It’s clean inside, and there’s an air freshener hanging from the rearview mirror that smells of linen and clean laundry. It’s a short drive, less than five minutes, and he insists on walking you to your door.

“So I guess this is good night?” You hate that tonight has to end. You want to stay in his orbit forever, want to stare into his eyes until you drown in them. He hums, reaching to grab your hands from where he stands one step below you. Heat flares over your skin when he brings your hands to his mouth and presses sweet kisses to your knuckles.

“I’m sure I could find a way to stay a little longer. I don’t have a patrol tonight, so I���ve got nowhere better to be.” It’s all too easy to lean in close, close enough that you can lie your forehead on his and breathe in each other’s air. 

“Shouta?” His eyes meet yours.

“Yes?” You bring your hands up to rest on his shoulders, toying with the scarf that sits on his neck.

“Can I kiss you?” Being so direct isn’t really your style, but you can’t take it anymore. A deep breath makes his chest heave, and his laugh is short and relieved.

“I was going to ask you the same thing.” That’s all you need to hear, really, and your lips are on his. Hungry, insistent, you kiss him until you can’t breathe and then keep kissing him some more. He’s no different, large strong hands wrapping around your waist to keep you from separating. Your hands grip his scarf like a vice, using the material to tug him somehow closer. Your body temperature skyrockets, heat blooming through your limbs as your heart pounds heavy in your chest, but you can’t find it in yourself to care about the heat when you’re finally kissing Shouta. This is heaven on earth. If you could, you’d kiss him forever. The moment doesn’t last long enough for you, but you both need to breathe, so you’re left holding each other and basking in the afterglow of your first real kiss. He’s the first to break the silence.

“I’ve been wanting to do that for a while.” You laugh at him then, at how close you were to saying something almost identical.

“Yeah? How long of a while, if I may ask?” 

“It’s a little embarrassing, but that first night I’d fallen asleep in the beanbag downstairs. I don’t know why but when you woke me up I got the sudden urge to kiss you. The rest is history.” Another laugh escapes you.

“I was going to say something about not knowing me very well, but that would make me a hypocrite.” His head tilts, a smirk pulling his mouth.

“And why is that?” Your face heats up, and you can’t look him in the eyes.

“That same night I got some very domestic thoughts of you sleeping in my bed.” His smile is bright and sweet, and he buries his head in your neck much like a cat would. You won’t say that out loud, though. Having to pull away from him annoys you, having to separate at a time like this is incredibly inconvenient, but you’ve got to unlock your door to invite him in. Though, you do keep one hand clasped firmly in his. It's a flurry of clothing as you strip down to your thinnest layers, the heat in the apartment making all your snow gear unbearably hot, and once again you’re inconvenienced by the fact that you want to get comfortable in some pajamas before dragging him to cuddle on the couch. He still had a pair of sweats he kept here so he’d changed as well. 

“I’ve been wanting to do this for a while.” He hums into your hair, holding you tight to his chest where you lay atop him. 

“So this is one of your domestic thoughts?” You can only nod into his chest. You don’t think he’d appreciate knowing there were a few very brief not-so-domestic thoughts. For now, you’re going to keep those to yourself.

“Shouta? Can I be honest with you?” One of his hands scratch up and down your clothed back as he hums and waits. 

“It feels like I’ve known you for years. We’ve been talking almost every day for just over a month but it feels like it’s been longer.”

“I know what you mean. Though the first night I’d come here was probably about five months ago, so we have technically known each other for nearly half a year.” The memory makes you smile. He’d been injured, sure, but it was your first interaction. Things tend to look better in hindsight.

“Yeah. I guess you’re right.” Silence falls then, and you press your ear to his chest as you listen to his steady heartbeat. It’s solid, and strong, and his fingers on your back are lulling you to sleep. You can’t open your eyes for long, and what you do see is blurred by exhaustion. As much as you want to fight it just to stay awake with Shouta for a little longer, you can’t, and you slip right into a wonderful dream your brain can’t be bothered to remember.

[berryhobii]

Down Bad Part 2 (pjm x reader)

Pairing: fuckboy!Park Jimin x black!female!fuckgirl!Reader

Word Count: 3.8K+

Warnings: none really. Mentions of previous sexual intercourse, mentions of foursomes, drinking(not explicit), all of this is from Jimin’s POV and his internal crisis, he’s really going through it

A/N: Hi loves! I’m back with Part 2 of Down Bad. Lots of people have been requesting it so here it is. Part 3 will be the final chapter where everything comes to it’s crest😈please look forward to it. Just to clarify, Jimin does have some thoughts that I don’t condone AT ALL. In order to progress the plot, he does continue to pursue reader so if you’re uncomfortable with that, please don’t continue reading. It will be the driving force of the story. Anyway, thank you so much for your patience and I hope you enjoy! Much love🩵🩵

~

“Hyung!”

Yoongi almost flung his cereal bowl across the room as his front door suddenly slammed open and Jimin burst inside.

“Jimin, what the hell?” Yoongi cursed, heart hammering like a stampede in his chest.

“Hyung, I need to ask you something.”

Yoongi sputtered. “W-what? How the hell did you get in my house?”

Jimin waved a hand. “I bribed Seokjin hyung with GrubHub but that’s not important. I need to talk to you.”

He was dreaming, he had to be. There was no way Jimin just let himself in without calling or texting first. And he was going to kill Seokjin!

“You just broke into my house. How is that not important?” Yoongi pointedly quipped.

Jimin groaned. “Focus, hyung. Look, I need to ask you about y/n.”

Breaking and entering aside, Yoongi acknowledged what Jimin was asking.

Yoongi walked over to his couch to sit down, motioning for Jimin to follow. “y/n? What about her?” He scooped some cereal into his mouth.

Jimin ran a hand through his hair. He’s been doing that more often than usual, your impact on him stressing him out.

“Why doesn’t she date?”

Ah. Yoongi realized where this was going. A smirk twitched at his lips and Jimin had a flashback to you. That god damn smirk.

“She put it on you, huh?” Yoongi chuckled with a shake of his head. He knew this was going to happen. Mainly because he went through the same thing about 2 years ago—the anxiety, the pacing, even the brief addiction to wondering what you were up to.

You were dangerous. Intoxicating. Almost unhealthy.

Yoongi considered himself a pretty good lover but you were on another fucking level. Your head game, pussy, aftercare; all top tier. He thought he was in love for a second and maybe he was but unfortunately, you weren’t the type of woman that wanted to be tied down.

“You’re sweet but I’m not looking for a relationship. Like ever. I’ll see you around though. Get home safe. Bye.”

Then you closed the door in his face and he went through the motions much like his good friend was right now.

It was hard not to get addicted to you.

Jimin groaned again, burying his face in his hands. “She was so good, hyung. I don’t even remember some of it because apparently, I passed out.”

Yoongi whistled. “Damn. I didn’t pass out but I did sleep for like 10 hours afterward. I even missed work. She definitely tires you out.” Yoongi sniggered, recalling the almost coma you put him in after that night. He was just lucky you didn’t put him out while he was practically dead on his feet. You made coffee, a light breakfast, and even let him take a shower to wake himself up more. You were a really nice and attentive person.

Jimin leaned back against the couch. “So why doesn’t she date?”

Yoongi shrugged his shoulder. “I don’t know.”

“Aren’t you two friends?” Jimin quizzed with a raised eyebrow.

“Yeah. Her job is like a block from mine. We meet up for lunch sometimes and I help her fix things around her apartment.”

There’s some information he didn’t know he really wanted. So you two were pretty close?

“And you haven’t slept together again?”

Yoongi shook his head, finishing his milk and then placing the bowl down on the coffee table.

“Nope. After our first time, I just gave up. Didn’t want to overstep, you know? She said she doesn’t sleep with the same person twice or something.”

Oh god. You had the same rule he did?! Now that he was hearing it, he realized how fucking dumb that rule was!

Yoongi could see the internal conflict Jimin was going through. He had the same problem back then. Even now sometimes, he wondered what he could do to get you but he respected you too much. You were sexy and confident, yes but you were also a great friend and someone he didn’t want to lose.

“Look, man. It’s best if you just forget about her. Nothing good will come from forcing yourself into her life.”

Jimin slumped further into the couch. He knew that. He liked you but he wasn’t the type to overstep any boundaries like that.

“Yeah. I guess you’re right.”

They sat in a comfortable silence for a moment before Yoongi broke it.

“Did she do that two handed twist thing on your dick?”

“Oh my god! It was insane!”

~

After that talk with Yoongi, Jimin decided to forget about you.

He went to work. He went to his classes and did his homework. He hung out with his friends……

And that’s it.

“You’ve been acting weird.” Taehyung suddenly stated one night when the two were hanging out on his couch. Jimin had shown up with fried chicken and beer out of the blue. Taehyung was actually kind of shocked to see him since Jimin was normally at a bar or a party on Friday nights.

Now that he thought about it, Jimin’s been at his place every weekend for the past month.

Something was up.

Jimin chewed the food in his mouth before swallowing, hand that wasn’t holding his chopsticks currently working on stealing from someone else on Monopoly GO.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, you’ve been here every weekend for a month. Why aren’t you at a party or something?”

Jimin made a noise of offense. “You say that like you don’t like spending time with me. I thought we were soulmates.” He cried dramatically with a pout.

Taehyung rolled his eyes. “We are but we haven’t spent this much time together in a while. Are you okay?”

Jimin went back to his game. “I’m fine. I just haven’t been feeling like going out.”

Okay, was hell freezing over or something? Jimin doesn’t feel like going out? Taehyung’s known Jimin for many many years and out of all of that time, he’s never known for Jimin to be a homebody. Taehyung was the homebody, Jimin was the party crasher. That was their dynamic and he’d be damned if he let Jimin take over his title.

“Alright, spill it.”

Jimin cursed under his breath at not finding another key before asking, “spill what?”

Taehyung squinted his eyes. Was Jimin really about to play stupid with him? He was used to Jimin actually doing stupid things, fake stupidity wasn’t in his nature.

Then he remembered something.

“You never told me how it went with you and that y/n girl. You normally give me a play by play of all of your one night stands.”

He saw how Jimin’s shoulders stiffened.

Bingo.

“Tell me. What happened?”

Jimin tossed back the remainder of his beer and then went to shove another piece of chicken in his mouth.

Taehyung snatched the box away, taking his phone as well.

“Come on, man! Just tell me.”

Jimin swallowed before sighing. He knew he couldn’t keep it from his best friend any longer.

“Nothing much happened. It was fine.” He lied because something very much happened and it was way more than just fine.

His eyes burned holes into Jimin’s face. He didn’t understand why Jimin was withholding. Jimin was never tight lipped when it came to spilling his escapades. The detail he’d put into it would make Taehyung feel like he was actually there.

So why was he being so secretive now?

“Alright,, get up.” Taehyung ordered, standing to his feet.

Jimin’s eyebrows jumped up. “Why?”

“We’re going out.”

“Going out? Where?”

Taehyung hauled him up by his arm, pushing him down the hall to the bedroom to find them something suitable to wear. Jimin left some of his clothes here just in case, mainly pajamas or casual clothes but he had a few going out pieces for those crazy moments. Like that time a girl ripped Jimin’s shirt off of him and he had to walk back to Taehyung’s house with tattered clothes hanging off his body.

Taehyung ruffled through the space in his closet where Jimin’s clothes hung, pulling out a simple button up and jeans.

He shoved the clothes in Jimin’s arms. “Tae, wait. I don’t really feel like-“

Taehyung interjected, “no, I’m done watching you act like someone you’re not. You need to go out and have fun. Get laid.”

“You’re the one always telling me to stop having so much sex but now you want me to?” Jimin asked incredulously.

Taehyung huffed. “I’ve never told you to not get laid. I tell you to stop treating women that way. How would you like it if someone just used you and put you out?”

Oh the irony. If only he knew….

Luckily, Jungkook had responded to Taehyung’s text and gave them the address to a small party on his college campus. Jimin’s complaints and refusals fell on deaf ears as Taehyung all but shoved him into an Uber and then they were on their way to the party.

The space was pretty lowkey and the party wasn’t as crazy as Jimin was used to; just people gathered around talking and drinking and making out. He didn’t really know if that was a good or bad thing yet. It could be good since it meant he could probably just sink into himself and stay quiet but it could also be bad since there wasn’t enough distractions to give him an opportunity to sneak away. Either way, he didn’t really want to be here.

Jungkook approached them with a loud greeting, a cute girl under his arm. “What’s up guys? Glad you can make it.” He gave both of them one of those handshake/hugs before turning his attention to the girl. “This is Lila.”

She gave a small wave and smile. “Hi.” To which Taehyung and Jimin greeted her back.

“So make yourselves comfortable. We have plenty of drinks and food and I think Hoseok should be coming back with more people soon.”

“Cool.” Taehyung nodded while Jimin was scouting out the nearest exit. He needed to get the hell out of here.

Breaking him from his thoughts of escape, Taehyung grabbed his arm and dragged him over to the drink table to grab a beer from the cooler before taking him to sit down on a small collection of couches.

Jimin’s nerves were on 100. He didn’t know why he wanted to leave so badly. Parties were his stomping grounds, right? What exactly was he so afraid of? Had you really knocked him off his mojo that badly?

Taehyung could also see the way Jimin was reacting and he didn’t like it. While he didn’t always agree with Jimin’s lifestyle, that didn’t mean he wanted him to change. This new reclusive and jumpy Jimin was not the man he’s known since childhood. Something definitely happened with that girl he went with a while ago but what?

Scanning the small party, Taehyung spotted a group of girls all laughing and enjoying drinks. One of them glanced over, making eye contact with Taehyung, her lashes fluttering in a flirty way.

Taehyung nudged a slumped down Jimin with his elbow, motioning to the girls. “Look. She’s cute, huh? Why don’t you go talk to her?”

Jimin looked in that direction, finding all of the girls looking now, their giggles ringing out when he made contact. Judging by their intimate touches between each other, they were definitely down for some girl on girl action. Normally, he would have already made his way over to see if a foursome was in the cards but now, that didn’t seem plausible. Ugh, past him would be beating his ass for turning down a potential opportunity to sleep with 3 girls at once.

“Are you a fucking idiot?! Look! They’re practically in kissing distance of one another! You could get between all that!”

Jimin sighed, averting his eyes and sipping his beer. He just wasn’t in the mood tonight. He appreciated Taehyung for his attempts but he just doesn’t think he could-

OH SHIT!

Jimin’s beer clattered to the floor, his hands coming up to cover his face with his leather jacket. Taehyung startled at Jimin’s sudden movement, eyebrow raising at the sight of Jimin attempting to hide himself. What the hell was going on?

“What’s wrong?” Taehyung probed with a frown, looking around at what could be causing Jimin’s turtle act.

Jimin’s heart was going crazy in his chest, his mind racing as he tried to will himself to turn invisible.

This is not happening right now, his wild mind thought.

You were here. You were ACTUALLY here! Even through his panic, he couldn’t help but notice how beautiful you looked; a white shirt paired with a olive green overall skirt that hugged your curves in a delicious way, cute lace up heels on your feet. Your hair was still straight and black but this time was styled up into a simple ponytail.

He knew something was telling him not to leave the house! Just what were the chances that you’d appear at the exact same party he was at? He was relieved that this was a smaller party since he doubted you would even hang out at places like this but it was like the universe was conspiring against him. Had all of his bad deeds finally caught up to bite him on the ass? He thought stopping that lifestyle would bring him some good luck but he guessed he was wrong. So very very wrong.

It was bad enough that you were in the same vicinity as him but what was even worse was the piece of man candy you had on your arm. Who the hell was that?!

No time to think about that now! Jimin has to get the hell out of here. “Tae, we have to leave. Now.”

“Wha-why? Are you feeling okay?”

“No. Yes. I don’t know. We just need to leave.” He rushed out panicked, eyes working overtime trying to map out an escape route. That was becoming hard though since you and this guy had positioned yourself next to the alcohol area which was right by the door. And this space was very open which means he could see the entire room. Any chance of leaving unseen would be practically impossible.

Should he just wait it out and hope you don’t notice him and then he could sneak out? Or should he just risk you seeing him and race out now? Both posed a possibility of you noticing him and of him having a heart attack.

And of course, luck was not on his damn side because Jungkook and Lila made their way over to them with Hoseok in tow. The loud men crashed down onto the empty couches around the small coffee table and Jimin could have pulled all his hair out. Did they have to bring all of that over here?!

“Whoa Park Jimin? I wasn’t expecting you to come here. You’re normally at a club or a bar!” Hoseok loudly bellowed with a bright smile. Jimin winced at how loudly Hoseok announced his name.

Nervously chuckling, Jimin croaked out a, “yeah…..strange, isn’t it?”

“But hey, don’t worry. There’s some totally hot trim here. See those girls over there?” Hoseok motioned behind them over to 3 women Taehyung pointed out earlier. “They’re always down for a foursome.”

I fucking knew it! Go over there, you sad sack of shit!

“Ah yeah. Maybe.”

“Hey is that Namjoon?” Jungkook observed, squinting his eyes to confirm if it was really the person he thought it was. Raising his hand, he called out, “Yo, Namjoon!”

And you wouldn’t believe who Namjoon fucking was! YEAH! It was the guy you had arrived with! Had all of Jimin’s bad luck he’ll ever accumulate over his life gathered right now to royally fuck him over?

Namjoon looked up from your eyes, looking in the direction of where his name was being called from. A smile spreading across his face at the familiar sight of his friends. He said something to you before BOTH OF YOU began making your way to their small group.

Yup, the universe was definitely pointing their fingers and laughing at him right now.

You and Namjoon reached their group, Hoseok and Jungkook standing to give him a handshake/hug.

“Hobi this party is pretty tame, even for you. Did daddy’s credit card finally hit its limit?”

Hoseok cackled, not at all offended by Namjoon’s joke. “Nah but the campus police have. That last party caused someone to break their arm so I’m on a warning. Gotta keep it lowkey, you know?”

“True. Thanks for the invite anyway. I hope it’s okay that I brought a friend.”

Oh no. Oh no. Oh no. Oh no.

“This is y/n.”

You waved at the group, eyes flittering over Jimin who was still trying incredibly hard to make himself invisible. Grinning, you purred, “It’s a pleasure.”

Jimin shivered at the sound of your voice, that same voice that whispered in his ear as you rode him into oblivion just weeks ago. It’s been haunting his dreams(both wet ones and daydreams) ever since you put him out and now that it was filling his ears once again, it felt 10 times more impactful and nerve racking. As if your presence wasn’t already sending him into a manic spiral, now he had to hear that seductive voice? And he just knew you were staring him down with those piercing eyes.

Everything felt too out of control. Jimin needed to leave.

Taehyung glanced from Jimin to you a few times before he finally remembered who you were.

“Hey, aren’t you Yoongi’s friend?”

Jimin’s eyes widened so much that they could have bulged out of his head like a Looney Toons cartoon. Shut the hell up! Out of all the times for Taehyung’s loner ass to be confident enough to start conversation, it had to be now!?

Moving your gaze from Jimin to Taehyung, you answered, “I am. What a small world. I think I remember you from the bar.”

“I was there too!” Jungkook announced while excitedly waving his hand which made everyone laugh. Except Jimin who didn’t find anything funny.

Namjoon and you went to sit down on the couch next to Hoseok which was right across from Jimin and Taehyung.

Thankfully, Hoseok bounced the conversation somewhere else which meant they didn’t have to recount what happened in the bar. Jimin knew Taehyung and probably Jungkook knew that he went home with you but he was grateful neither of them mentioned it.

The redirected conversation gave Jimin an opportunity to not obsess over you and Namjoon getting cozy just across from him.

With your leg tossed over Namjoon’s, you leaned forward to whisper something in his ear, dimples indenting his cheeks at whatever you said. His hand stroked up and down your leg, sometimes playing with the hem of your skirt.

Jimin’s own leg bounced up and down, a strange feeling bubbling in his belly as he watched you two. It felt different than anything else he’s ever felt before.

Something hotter. Something intense. Something ugly.

The feeling rose with every caress, every giggle, every light kiss you shared with Namjoon. And when you locked eyes with Jimin as Namjoon whispered in your ear, that’s when he realized what it was.

Envy.

Staring directly at Jimin with that annoying ass smirk, you continued to exchange heavy pets with Namjoon. It was like you were taunting him, dangling a carrot right in front of his face and then swiping it away.

Your gaze said it all.

You can’t have me.

Suddenly standing to his feet, he stalked out away from the group and out the door.

The others were confused by his sudden departure.

“Is he okay?” Hoseok asked Taehyung who frowned.

“I don’t know. I’ll go see. I’ll catch you guys later.” After a chorus of goodbyes, Taehyung followed Jimin out. He looked around once he made it outside, finding Jimin’s receding figure walking down the street. “Jimin! Wait!”

But Jimin didn’t stop, hands stuffed in his pockets and mouth mumbling various curses about you and Namjoon. What the hell was wrong with him? He had finally managed to convince himself that he had forgotten about you and that you didn’t affect him anymore but just the sight of you with another man had crumbled any semblance of control he thought he had. You had barely done anything and you had him acting like this.

Taehyung eventually caught up with his friend, extending his stride to keep up with him.

“Hey what’s up?”

Jimin shook his head, eyebrows furrowed into a deep frown. “Just leave it, Taehyung. I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Somethings going on with you. I can’t just leave it when it has you acting so strange and it’s not good for you to repress whatever you’re feeling. You can talk to me.”

“I said drop it.” Jimin seethed.

“But-“

Jimin finally snapped, abruptly stopping and whipping around to face Taehyung. “God damn it, Taehyung! Fine, you want to know what’s happening? y/n and I had sex and it was so fucking amazing that I can stop thinking about her! But apparently she has that same only fuck once rule that I have and it’s driving me fucking crazy!” He tugged at his hair, breath speeding up as he finally ranted about what’s been bothering him. “I’ve been avoiding going out because she absolutely wrecked me and I can’t even think about sex with anyone else! I also wanted to avoid seeing her since I know she hangs around the college bars and clubs. Then she just had to show up tonight with a new guy. It was just too much, Tae.”

His tone softened towards the end, his anger dissipating into the soul crushing reality that you really had a hold over him.

Taehyung sighed. He honestly didn’t really know what to do or say. This was a situation he’s never been confronted with and he was sure he could say the same for Jimin. He’s never seen his friend be so torn up over a girl. Admittedly, it did seem a little shallow since Jimin was just acting like this over good sex but who was Taehyung to invalidate anyone’s feelings?

“Look, it was one time. I understand it was really good but you can’t act like this over one girl, especially one you don’t really like. It was just sex. It’s not like you’re dating or pursuing a relationship. I suggest you just forget about her.”

Jimin paused.

Wait a second. Taehyung was right, you two weren’t dating nor was Jimin pursuing you. Why didn’t you date? Yoongi didn’t know and you’ve been friends with him for a while so why? He knows Yoongi told him to just leave you alone but he just couldn’t.

Jimin was going to break you. He was going to figure out what made you tick, how to dismantle that cool facade you kept on, and he was going to make you break all of your own rules.

[daleyeahson]

Girl on Film | Perv!Eddie Munson x Best Friend Reader: Part 3

Summary: After days of not seeing or hearing anything from Eddie, you finally snap. When you confront him about your feelings, it’s not exactly what he had hoped to hear.

Warnings: angst, cursing, I’m just gonna go ahead and say 18+ minors dni mainly bc of what has happened before and that stuff gets briefly mentioned in here so… yeah lol

Word count: 2.9k

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A/n: I’m sorry this took a little longer than expected to get released! I’ve been a little busy and tbh at first I didn’t know where I wanted this story to go so that also slowed the whole process lol thank you guys for your continued love and support! You have no idea how much it truly means to me.. Enjoy! x

It’s Monday morning and Eddie slowly stirs awake. Stretching as much as he could, he turns his head over to look at the alarm clock. 6:45am. He then turns his head to the opposite side only to be met with the sight of your naked body. Your back facing him and the sheets covering just the lower half of you. Panic sets in before he has a chance to really take in the view. He starts to freak out as his questions from last night enter his mind once again.

He tries to convince himself that he’s just overreacting and that you must’ve genuinely felt the same way he did, right? If you didn’t, why would you do all of that with him? Why would you play along with the whole camcorder situation? He began to think that maybe it was just a spur of the moment thing for you. That maybe you just wanted to have fun with this and not get romantically involved. He also thought of how maybe you’d wake up and regret this whole weekend and then things would be forever changed between the two of you.

With every question of “what if?” or “why?” that crossed his mind, he knew one thing for sure. He did not want to stick around and find out. He couldn’t handle the possibility of rejection or the idea of losing you as his best friend. He needed to think things over before diving into that conversation with you. So, without a moments notice, Eddie does what he does best. He runs.

Or at least he tries too. He gently gets out of the bed, trying his best not to wake you and rushes to go take a quick shower. While he’s in the bathroom, you wake up to the sound of the water running. Still a little bit groggy, you slip on another oversized t-shirt since the one you had on yesterday was now torn in two thanks to a certain someone. You decided against wearing pants, not having the energy this morning to deal with putting them on. Plus, at this point, Eddie has seen you in a lot less, so you figured he wouldn’t have a problem with it.

You make your way to the kitchen in desperate need of something to drink. You pour yourself a glass of water and casually sip on it while having your back leaned against the counter. You hear the shower turn off and soon afterwards, the bathroom door opens. In such a hurry to leave, Eddie doesn’t even notice that you’re standing in the kitchen.

“Mornin’ Eddie, sleep well?”

“Jesus Christ!” He jumps at the sound of your voice. “I didn’t know you were awake,” he gives a nervous chuckle, “You scared the shit out of me.”

“I haven’t been up for long.. What’s got you up and ready to go out the door so early?”

“Uh…” Eddie pauses for a second, trying to find what to say. He doesn’t want to bring up the real reason he’s leaving, so he says the next thing that comes to mind. “School! Gotta head off the school, ya know, don’t wanna be late.”

You look at him and say with a raised eyebrow, “Since when did you, Eddie Munson, care about going to school, let alone getting there on time?”

He smiles softly at your comment, knowing that you had a good point.

“I figured dealing with the third go around of this shit, I might actually want to try for once before I end up graduating with Henderson’s class.”

You laugh. You know you’d never let that happen, but it was funny to picture him and Dustin posing for a photo together with their cap and gowns on holding their diplomas.

“Well before you go, do you want some breakfast? I can fix you something real quick. I know the stuff they serve in the cafeteria isn’t the best.”

Growing more anxious the longer he stands there, Eddie shakes his head, “N-no thanks. As much as I would love to, I don’t have the time. Still have to run home and change out of this,” he gestures to his sweats, “and you know how long it takes to get my whole get up on. At this rate, I’ll be lucky if I get there before the first bell rings.”

You try not to show a look of disappointment on your face. You wished he would stay a little longer, but you understood his reasons. If you were in his shoes, you’d want to do everything possible to make sure you didn’t have to repeat your senior year again too.

“Oh, well, I’ve got to start getting ready for work in a few anyway, so no biggie. Give me a call though afterwards, yeah? I’ll be back home this evening, probably around six.”

Eddie doesn’t say anything, just gives you a slight nod and walks out the door. Driving off in his van, he makes his way back home. Once there, he heads to his room and spots the camcorder still sitting in the same spot he left it. He really did plan on going to school, but after seeing that and being reminded once again how all of this got started, he decided to stay home. There was no way he could focus on any of his classes after that.

You started getting ready for work not long after Eddie left. Taking a quick shower yourself and changing into your uniform. You pulled your hair back to keep it out of your face and applied a light, natural makeup look. You weren’t one to really wear makeup to begin with, but being a waitress, it seemed to help get you better tips so you didn’t mind having to wear it while you were at work.

You worked at a small diner right on the edge of town, only a 15 minute drive from your place. It wasn’t the best job, but it paid the bills. It’s not like you didn’t enjoy it, you loved your coworkers and got along well with the regulars you had, but being on your feet for hours on end for most days of the week was exhausting.

Your work day was the same as always. A group of older gentlemen would always come in early for some breakfast which usually consisted of biscuits and gravy all while talking for hours, getting refill after refill of coffee. You gained a few more customers when lunch rush hit, but things never picked up until it came closer to dinner time. You’d always get busy around then, mainly having truckers stop by for a good hot meal after being on the road all day. You didn’t mind though, you loved hearing the stories they’d tell about the places they’ve been and things they’ve seen. It always helped make the work day go by a little faster.

When your shift came to an end, you made your way back home. Feet aching from the day, all you wanted was to get out of these clothes and go to bed. You didn’t even think about the fact that Eddie said he would call. All that was on your mind now was getting some much needed rest.

When Tuesday had came and gone and still no word from him, you started to wonder why Eddie hasn’t been back over or called. You didn’t really pay much mind to it, thinking he must’ve been exhausted like you were last night after playing his gig at the Hideout with the Corroded Coffin boys.

Wednesday was a different story though. That evening, you made your way over to Family Video to pick out movies for the sleepover this weekend. It was supposed to be at Eddie’s place this time, but after not hearing from him for days, you weren’t sure if he even wanted to have it. You walk in and was greeted by Robin who stood at the front counter.

“Hey, y/n! Picking out more movies for you and Eddie this weekend?”

“Yeah,” you say in an unsure tone, “I guess I am.”

“You guess? What’s that supposed to mean?”

You sigh and start to explain everything to her. Just the part of not hearing from Eddie in a while, she didn’t need to know the rest and you still hadn’t even talked about it with Eddie himself. It would feel wrong to discuss those things with another person before him, even if Robin was one of your closest friends.

“It’s just, I don’t know. I’m not sure if he wants to have the sleepover this weekend. After he left my place Monday morning for school, I haven’t heard from him since. I figured maybe he was tired from his gig last night, but I still haven’t heard anything from him today either. It’s just weird not seeing or hearing from him, ya know? He’s never done this before.”

“Wait, you said he left Monday morning for school?” She asks and you give her a nod. “Eddie wasn’t at school Monday. Like at all.”

“What?” You looked at her with confusion written all over your face.

Not at school? What does she mean not at school? Why would he say that’s why he had to leave your place so early and then not go? Maybe he was late getting there and she just didn’t see him.

Robin went on to explain, “Yeah. He borrowed my biology notes and was supposed to give them back to me at lunch, but he wasn’t there. I asked the guys at the Hellfire table if they’d seen him but they said he never showed up that morning.”

What the hell? Why didn’t he go? More importantly, why did he lie to you about going in the first place? Your blood started to boil at the thought of him lying to you. You had been friends forever, why would he feel the need to lie? You explained to Robin that you had to go, not getting the movies you had planned on picking up. You needed to get home to think about some things. What the fuck was Eddie’s problem?

Thursday evening rolled around and still no word. You finally decided to give him a call instead of waiting for him. You knew he should be home from school right now, if he even went this time, and he didn’t have band practice or anything like that. You reach for the phone and dial his number. After a few rings, a mans voice spoke on the line.

“Hello?” Wayne. You didn’t think he’d be home right now. He must’ve been getting ready to leave for work when you called.

“Hey, Uncle Wayne, is Eddie around?” You ask.

Wayne looks over at Eddie standing in the living room, signaling for him to say that he wasn’t there and couldn’t talk.

Wayne sighs before answering, “No, I’m sorry, sweetheart. He’s not here at the moment. I could take a message for him if you’d like though.”

There it was, another lie. Now he’s even getting other people to do it for him? Unbelievable.

“Just tell him to give me a call when he gets a chance, okay?” You tried to not sound frustrated, but Wayne could tell you were upset.

“Will do.” He hangs up the phone and looks up at Eddie once again.

“Boy, I don’t know what the hell is going on between you two, but whatever it is, not talking to her about it isn’t going to solve the problem.”

Eddie looks down at his feet, embarrassed that Wayne is lecturing him over something that he should’ve already taken care of.

“I know, Wayne, it’s just..” he tries to think of the best way to explain this to his uncle without having to go further into detail about it all, “things are just a bit..complicated right now, okay? I promise I’ll talk to her soon. I just need some time to think about things.”

Wayne takes the hint that Eddie doesn’t want to get into the subject of what’s going on and gives him a sympathetic look. Not really knowing what it was that was making things complicated between you both, but knew whatever it may be was causing his boy to be in misery.

Grabbing his jacket and getting ready to head out the door, he turns and with a sigh he says to Eddie, “Well, whatever it is, you guys have been friends all your lives. You’ll be able to get through it, okay? Don’t sweat it, kid.”

And with that he heads out the door, leaving Eddie to stew in his own thoughts about everything.

You on the other hand, were pissed. Outraged. Angry.

How could he lie to you like that? Why would he even do such a thing? And then ignore your call when you finally reach out to him?

No, you weren’t gonna have it. Eddie was going to talk to you face to face about this whether he liked it or not. It was something that needed to be done, and you knew exactly when to do it.

It was finally Friday, you had just finished your shift at work and was heading home to change and shower. Eddie was making his way over to the high school to start setting up for his Hellfire campaign. You knew if he wasn’t going to come to you and talk about things, you’d have to go to him. And that’s exactly what you planned on doing. You knew he wouldn’t miss a Hellfire meeting no matter what, so he would definitely be there. He wouldn’t be able to hide from you no longer.

You arrived at the high school and made your way to the room where the boys would be at. As you got closer to the door, you could hear them screaming at one another. Most likely over something that just happened during the campaign. You then heard a familiar sound. One that usually filled you with joy, but this time it just made you fill up with more rage than you already had.

Eddie’s laugh.

It pissed you off to no end hearing it. Hearing him having a good time, as if nothing was wrong. As if he hasn’t been avoiding you like the plague all week.

Without any hesitation, you burst through the door. The room falls silent as everyone looks over to see who interrupted them in the middle of their campaign. When Eddie’s eyes finally met yours, he could see how upset you were.

“Oh shit.”, He whispers to himself.

You march your way over where he was, sat on his throne, and you point your finger at his face.

“Where the hell have you been? Hm?”

Before Eddie has a chance to say anything, you continue on with your rant.

“All week! You haven’t called or stopped by to see me all fucking week! You never do that. Ever. We have been best friends forever and now suddenly, without warning you decide to just disappear? What the hell is your problem? Why have you been ignoring me?”

Eddie sat there, speechless and paralyzed from shock. He wasn’t expecting you to just show up randomly. He thought he would have more time to think over things before talking to you. He also didn’t expect to be having this conversation in front of the entire Hellfire Club, either.

“Say something!” You yell at him. Still, Eddie can’t find the words. Mouth moving as if he wants to say something but nothing comes out. You were mad before, but now standing here having him just stare at you not saying a word, it sends you over the edge.

“Fuck you, Eddie.” You spewed hatred towards him. “I can not believe after everything you did to me this weekend, you have the fucking audacity to not only ignore me and my calls, but blatantly lie to my face and have Wayne lie for you too. I already know you didn’t go to school Monday, Robin confirmed it for me. I seriously can’t believe you right now!”

You were fuming and after a few seconds of Eddie still not saying a word, you look at him and reach your hand out.

“Give me my key.”

“W-what?” Eddie finally is able to breathe out a word, and of course, it’s not what you wanted to hear.

“You heard me…Give. me. my. key.”

When he doesn’t move to give it, you yell again, still beyond frustrated with him.

“NOW!”

With trembling hands, Eddie reaches for it. He slowly takes the spare key to your apartment off the key ring and places it in your hand. You walk back over to the door, turning to him one last time before you leave.

“Don’t bother calling or coming over anymore. Not until you actually grow the fuck up for once. Until then, I’m done. I don’t need to put up with you and all of your bullshit, especially not after what happened.”

You slam the door shut, leaving the boys there in silence. Walking back out of the school, you feel hot tears running down your face. In this moment, you could care less. You just wanted to go home and forget about everything that has happened this past week.

Eddie is left sitting there, staring at the door trying to hold back the tears in his eyes that are fighting to spill over the edge. Gareth is the first one to break the silence.

“Dude, I don’t know what you did” he says looking away from the door and back over to Eddie, “but whatever it was, you really fucked up.”

Still not saying a word, Eddie thought to himself.

He really did fuck up this time.

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[applcrumbl]

Moonlit Man.

Pairings: Rafe Cameron X F!Reader Warnings: Sex allusions, Strong Language, Suggestive content, Word Count: 2.5K Author's Note: This took on an entirely different direction than it was supposed to, but that's life. Went very poetic with this one, take it or leave it.

Summary: A hookup-only relationship that becomes more.

The golden shine of his back in the soft glow of the balcony lighting outside. He came late and left early - though she never minded. They simply enjoyed their time together, every few nights, sometimes a week, never more than a month.

His breathing was shallow, his back defined. Comforter hanging low on his hips, it was a surprise he wasn’t freezing. The large bay window had all 3 glass panes wide open, the sound of the beach whistling through the breeze that blew gently into the room. The wind carried away the smell of sex from mere hours before.

She never slept afterwards, she couldn’t. Not when she knew he’d expect her gone in the morning. So she would wait until he snored soundly, before slipping into her shoes and sliding out the back door. Sleek. Silent.

He only slept when she was there. He couldn’t otherwise. Not when her soft heartbeat didn’t provide rhythm for him to focus on. So he would shut his eyes tight and knock himself out before she had the chance to be gone.

She never really wanted to leave. And he never really wanted her to go. How they’d found themselves in this familiar routine, neither knew. Like clockwork, and neither questioned. A fear of it ceasing altogether if it were mentioned.

There was no talking, other than the small introductory necessity beforehand, or the sexy profession of need during. Just sex. They knew each other’s names and mobile numbers. She knew he lived at Tannyhill, and he knew that she was a local. They were just sex, some light banter, and a guaranteed ride home at the end of a drunken night.

That was all.

Until it wasn’t. He’d looked her up. Breaking their unspoken arrangement. He searched instagram, he asked his friends, he’d almost near hired a private investigator when his seach turn up nothing. Her name like a needle in a haystack. Like an earring back in a freshly dug bed of soil. As if she never existed.

She did of course. It was so easy to block someone on social media. So easy to stay on a certain side of the island where one is reluctant to step foot. So easy to know where best to go on the odd occasion that one does. So easy to stay an elusive part of Rafe Cameron’s life, and carry no consequence for his action. How she liked it. No strings attached.

But despite a lack of strings, people can find other ways to be entwined. Feelings can be caught, and laughs shared. Snippets of memories, and drunken honesty. Over their short period of time together, they’d grown to enjoy the company. In ways that werent just late nights. Him sleeping first, and her slipping out.

This night were no different, and as his breath gently tickled her neck, she crept from his king sized bed as she’d done countless times before. Her underwear slid over her legs, dress over her head. She carried her shoes and jacket down the stairs of the large home. Quiet so as not to wake any of it’s other inhabitants.

The rest of her clothes were briskly added once she reached the front landing. The same path each time. Left step, right step, dodge the creaky floorboard, and out the old servants' quarter's door. It was in the house's original design to be the quietest area, so that the Plantation’s staff could once enter and exit without disruption to their masters. Perfect for her need.

She opens it, careful to dodge the miscellaneous boxes strewn about. Evidently where the family’s random items were collected. She knew that the baseball bat must’ve been Rafe's and that the dolls would have belonged to a pair of sisters she’d only heard traces of. But, as much as she’d happily let Rafe tell her all, she knew it was best to keep their paths clear and uncrossing.

“The front door is closer, you know.”

She jumps at the surprising voice, turning quickly to be met by her moonlit man. Hand clutching pearls, she steadys herself.

“Thought you were sleeping.” She states.

“I was” Rafe replies, rubbing the back of his neck, still shining with the lightest layer of sweat.

She pauses for a moment, unsure of what to say. “Oh, then I’m sorry to wake you.”

They look at eachother. Him directly at her eyes. Her at his shoulder, avoiding his direct gaze. They spoke sometimes, but not often, and never afterwards.

“You forgot your earrings.”

“Oh,” She breathes, “Thanks.”

She hold her hands out, expectant for the boy to place the studded pearls in her grasp. He doesn’t. “I left them upstairs.” He apologises, opening his fingers to show her his empty palms.

She just nods, “I’ll get them next time.”

There would be a next time, after all, there always was.

He clears his throat, “Sorry.”

A smile without teeth, and a curt nod. These were the most words they’d uttered to one another at a single time. At least not for those moaned, or whispered under bedsheets.

She turns to leave through the open doorway. Eager to be home before the cold took over too much. Laden in nothing but the thin jacket, shoe and satin dress she wore out the night before. 

“You never answered my question.”

He catches her on the doorstep.

“Servants' quarter's door is the quietest place in the house.” She explains, “Slave owners liked not to be disturbed early in the morning.”

“Are you calling me a slave owner?”

“No!” she apologised, “I just meant it’s the quietest way out of the house.”

Typically, an air of confidence surrounded her. Conviction in uncertainty. She could pretend to be someone she was not, especially to those who knew no different. Her insecurity slips out. The strong bravado once built, comes tumbling down. 

He enjoyed this side of her. Sweet, clumsy. He seldom saw it.

“Is that why I never hear you leave?”

“I wait until you’re sleeping.”

“Why don’t you just stay?”

The question throws her for a loop. Caught off guard, she can only stutter and answer. 

“I have things to do?”

It comes out as more of a question than an answer.

“At 3am?”

She just nods, jacket pulled even tighter around her shivering body. She wants nothing more than to leave as usual.

“Why don’t you exist outside of my bedroom?”

It’s bold. It’s new. It’s nothing she ever expected to hear him say. It’s unlike anything Rafe Cameron has ever asked. It scared her. Shocked her into silence.

Any normal person would find words at that moment. Even something as simple as ‘I don’t know’. Yet, she stood, mouth agape, no sound coming out.

“I’d like it if you did.” He follows.

An admittance. A moment of pluckiness. An opportunity to spark a new light in their relationship. Testing the waters of whether or not they could be more. Whether he could have her full address. Whether she could stay over for the night.

But, her confidence is out of the window, and he needs his ego bruised a bit.

She just turns and walks away instead. Silent, except for her feet crunching the gravel path. Leaving Rafe alone at the servant's quarter’s door, which he never even knew existed. She runs from Tannyhill Plantation, and away from the man who she simply saw for sex.

Regret fills them both but for different reasons. She wishes she spoke to him. She wishes she stayed, she wished her confidence did too. She wishes that he kept sleeping and that she hadn’t forgotten her earrings. He wishes he’d offered to take her home. He wishes he’d just let her leave so that he’d know she’d come back. He wishes he’d never asked her for more than that. 

He goes back to his bedroom, and she to hers. Pulling covers up tight around her shoulders, she nods off securely in her own bed. Rafe tossed and turns as the warmth leaves the spot next to him. His bed grew colder as hers grew warmer.

-

The next time they spoke was a mere week later. Both tired of their hand, and longing for the other. Rafe was the first to fold.

Wednesday, March 11th at 09:58pm.

RAFE Can we ignore what I said? I think I was still a bit high.

Wednesday, March 11th at 10:04pm.

Y/N That makes sense. Okay. RAFE I need you. Y/N Me too. RAFE I’ll pick you up? Y/N I’ll meet you at yours. RAFE Okay.

Message read at 10:12pm.

A round trip of Kildare Island will take you an hour and a half at most, and although he didn’t know much about her, he knew she drove. No matter where she stayed on this small island, she would have been with him after 45 minutes. And he’d known from past times that she always pulled into the driveway after 22. So when the clock struck 11pm, that is when Rafe began to worry.

He worried that she’d chosen to walk. He worried that she’d gotten into a car crash and died. But, most of all, he worried that she’d changed her mind. That she wasn’t coming. He text her again.

Wednesday, March 11th at 11:16pm.

RAFE You on your way?

The speech bubble that popped up soothed him. She was alive. The fact that it came and went a few times put him on edge. What was she going to say?

Y/N No. RAFE What do u mean?

He tries to call her. The number rings once before sounding the dial tone. She clicks the decline button, hands running over her thighs.

RAFE Answer your phone. RAFE Please RAFE Have I done something? Are you in trouble? Y/N I’m fine. Why would I be in trouble? RAFE Why aren’t you coming?

Wednesday, March 11th at 11:22pm.

Y/N We’re getting too attached. RAFE We’re not. RAFE I promise.

Wednesday, March 11th at 11:29pm.

Y/N We are. And that’s okay, It’s just not what I want. Y/N It’s not what either of us want, really RAFE We’re literally not geytung attached RAFE getting*

Wednesday, March 11th at 11:38pm.

Y/N Rafe, u searched me up. You asked around for me.

He draws his cigarette. A sharp breath in and a gentle one out. Contemplating his next message. Unable to deny his actions, but embarrassed by the reason behind them.

Y/N You’re literally still wake at 1AM waiting for me to come around.

Y/N

Waiting on your fucking porch for me Y/N And I know for fact that you have other numbers in your phone that you can call instead.

His eyes snap up. Scanning the darkness for a set of headlights. How else would she know he was here?

RAFE Where are you parked? Y/N Wdym? RAFE You know i’m on my porch, which means you’re here. Where are you? Y/N Lucky guess. RAFE Don’t believe you. Y/N You should. Y/N I’m at home.  Y/N I just know what you’re doing right now because we’re getting too close. RAFE Is it really such a bad thing RAFE That i want to see you RAFE That i like you?

Wednesday, March 11th at 11:45pm.

Y/N You like my pussy RAFE Well yes RAFE But I want to know you Y/N

The speech bubble appears again before it leaves. It doesn’t show up for the rest of the evening. Or the following day. Or the next week. Month. Three Months.

-

Her life goes back to normal. His does too, only emptier. Her friends see her more, his see him less. She tries to forget about Rafe Cameron, and what it felt like to be beneath his sheets. He is plagued with thoughts of the girl who didn’t want him back. The first of her kind.

Kildare’s annual bonfire was the one chance he had of seeing her again. It was how they’d met the year previous. The first night of many stolen kisses and rumpled bedsheets. 

Rafe had considered that the fact he’d never seen her, or that none of his friends had heard of her, might be because she was a pogue. He’d never thought to ask, and ultimately he’d started not to care. But it was underlying in his mind as he sipped a beer next to the bonfire. Using its flame to illuminate the face of every girl gone past. None of which her's.

He’d tried texting her. Called once or twice whilst drunk. But never got an answer. And he’d never admit it, but he missed her. Missed her almost as much as he did his own mother. A casual hook-up held the same weight in his heart as an absent parent. The one who got away.

Except, she never really got away. Because, she was never his in the first place. He can’t lose something he never had. He can’t have something that never wanted to be his. Rafe bullied himself into the ground for screwing up the opportunity. 

She did the same for a while. Thinking, and thinking about what might have been. She’d dream of white dresses, and bearing children. She’d wonder what he was doing, who he was seeing. If he’d gotten over her. She’d convinced herself he had. She’d convinced herself he didn’t care for her anymore. She’d convinced herself that he wouldn’t even be at this stupid bonfire this year, and that the fact that she was going was stupid in itself.

But she’d do anything to at least see him again. Even if it were just the back of his shoulders, glistening in the low light of outside his bedroom window.

Maybe if she got the chance again, she’d stay. Maybe if he got the chance again, he’d keep her with him.

She sat at the bonfire. Eyes hurting from the smoke that blew her way. Unbeknownst that the very man she’d come for was exactly adjacent. Hidden by the burning embers, and floating orange ribbons. The fire died slowly as she pulled her phone out. Biting the bullet and sending the text.

Thursday, June 25th at 11:57pm.

Y/N Are you here?

An answer comes quickly.

RAFE Yes. Are you? Y/N I wouldnt have said ‘here’ if I wasn’t 

He missed her quick wit. She missed his dumb questions.

RAFE Where? Y/N Meet me by the big rock? Y/N They’re away to put the fire out.

He rises quickly, avoidant of the poured water buckets that smother the once-roaring flames. It sizzles and hisses with the drastic change in temperature, but he can barely hear it over the thundering of his own heart. Rafe practically sprints to the rock, the phone still in hand.

She follows, catching a glimpse of him for the first time in so long. He has his back turned, it feels strangely poetic. The light of flame is replaced by that of the moon, and she watches Rafe in a familiar state. Broad shoulders outlined by blue shimmer.

The open horizon of the beach feels like Rafe’s bedroom window. He takes a seat, back still turned to her. His phone in hand as he begins to draft a text. No doubt asking where she is. She fights every urge to make as she normally would, and slip away. But, they both fight their vices.

Rafe's eyes stay firmly open, as he turns to the sound of her footsteps. Hers close tight as she sits next to him, head resting on his shoulder.

[lowlylux]

So You Love Me? (Yeah)

Chapter One This Party's Shit

Word Count: 2k

Status: In Progress

Rating: E

Description:

Both Heizou and Scara stay quiet for a bit before Scara seems to realize they were in the middle of a conversation. “But Ei didn’t tell you about the band?”

“The what?”

“Ei thought that it would be a good idea to combine some of her artists and just make a band. She announced it last night. Thought she told you.”

Heizou checks his phone, noticing the multiple missed calls from his manager. “She tried.” His attention snaps back to Scara, his brows furrowing in confusion. “Who’s going to be in the band?”

ao3 Link

Heizou quietly grabs his shoes, keeping them in his hands as he rushes out of the room, careful not to wake up the sleeping figure wrapped in the scratchy hotel room sheets.  He probably should not have been drinking, at least not the amount he ended up doing last night.  He probably should not have gone with the first warm body who came up to him afterwards, no that was moronic.

And the problem is, he is smart.  Like, really smart.  He should have known that it was a risk, that acting recklessly would lead him into a trap, but he frankly did not care.  Why would it affect him if his public identity is tainted?

He opens the front door of the hotel, shoes still on hand, immediately blinded by flashing lights.  It was so strange, the hotel was eerily quiet.  Not a sound to be heard the entire trek to the front door.  However, the moment he emerged from the building, it was like the world woke up again.  

Heizou instinctively covers his face with his hand as voices meld together, just giving him a headache.  Or is it because he is horribly hungover?  Nonetheless the paparazzi is probably not helping him one bit.  

He cannot even understand them.  Their questions fall to deaf ears as he just wants to escape.  He doesn’t remember how he got here, but he knows he was not the one driving.  Even drunk, he is not that much of an idiot.  No, his car is safely parked and locked at the bar.  

But what he does hear is a car screech.  He squints, trying to find the source of the sound, but with all the flashing lights he quickly realizes that is a stupid idea.  A door slams, and suddenly he is grabbed, being pulled around.  He jerks away, staring at the culprit in shock.

He looks familiar, but Heizou definitely does not recognize the man.  But the aggressive stranger just glares at him.  “Get in the fucking car, Ei needs you.”

Heizou just has to hear the name of his manager for him to accept the man, allowing the tugging to continue so that he can make his way to the car.  He is pushed into the car, his face impacting the seat before he can gain his balance.  

It smells like naku weed.

Suddenly he is far more trusting of this individual, especially since it is quite obvious that he is using a company vehicle to do things off the clock.  Truly his type of man.

The driver’s side door slams closed after the unknown man slips in, grumbling to himself as he honks the horn in an attempt to part the crowd.  “Get the fuck out of the way!” He screams after lowering the window, honking his horn at the same intensity.  The man grumbles, rolling up the window and slumping into the seat.

It is quiet in the car for a moment, and Heizou really does not know what he can do.  He covers his face, avoiding the flashing cameras to the best of his ability.  He gets so distracted by the annoying individuals who make it their entire life goal to get an incriminating photo that he does not even notice at first when the unknown man dials a number using the car dashboard.

“Scara…it’s the middle of the morning…what the hell?!”

Heizou’s attention snaps to the dashboard, recognizing the voice.  He glances at the man who he now knows is Scara and then back to the car.  “I need a favor.”

“At three in the morning?”

“You can kick Heizou’s ass next time you see him,” Scara grumbles, flipping off a person who takes a picture of him.  “Can you and Diluc go somewhere? Need a distraction so I can drive.”

“Diluc is asleep, like I should be.”

“Then wake him up,” Scara hisses out, honking his horn for good measure.  “Childe, I swear to fucking god, I will do whatever you want.”

“…anything?”

“Anything,” the man confirms, resting his forehead on the steering wheel.  He lets out a sigh, seemingly attempting to calm down.  “Dude, we need a way out of here.”

“Alright, can you give me ten minutes?”

“You have five,” Scara says, hanging up before Childe can respond.  He glances at Heizou, sending the man a glare before dialing another number, allowing it to ring before someone picks up.  “Lumine, are you still friends with Charlotte?”

“Yeah? Scara, this isn’t a great-“

“Call Charlotte, tell her that Childe and Diluc are going out.  I need her to get the word out.”

“Wha-“ she asks before the line goes silent for a moment.  Heizou swears he hears a sigh from her end.  “Fine.”

“Much appreciated, see you later,” Scara says, hanging up on her as well.  He slumps into the seat, holding the horn in a feeble attempt to disperse the group once more.  “You’re making my life much harder than it needs to be.”

“How was I supposed to know this would happen?”

“Who goes to a bar and fucks the first person who goes to you?  You’re famous, act like it.”

Heizou’s eye twitches uncontrollably as he starts to dislike this stranger who seems to have far too many opinions.  “I haven’t released new music in a while, how was I supposed to know they were gonna set me up?”

Scara stares at him for a moment, seemingly a spark of realization hitting him.  “Did Ei not tell you?”

“Tell me what?”

“Oh thank fuck,” Scara says suddenly when people begin to disperse.  He looks upwards almost comically.  “I’m going to owe Childe so much,” he says, closing his eyes for a moment before starting the car and pulling away.

Both Heizou and Scara stay quiet for a bit before Scara seems to realize they were in the middle of a conversation.  “But Ei didn’t tell you about the band?”

“The what?”

“Ei thought that it would be a good idea to combine some of her artists and just make a band.  She announced it last night.  Thought she told you.”

Heizou checks his phone, noticing the multiple missed calls from his manager.  “She tried.”  His attention snaps back to Scara, his brows furrowing in confusion.  “Who’s going to be in the band?”

••••••

“Who’s A?” 

Lumine’s head snaps toward her brother, causing the car to swerve to the side.  She does not even bother apologizing to Kazuha, who was sleeping without a seatbelt in the back and got to experience the pain of his head smacking on the glass.  “Why do you have my phone?”

“You asked me to answer it for you when Scaramouche called.”

“That was not an invitation to start snooping.”

“You should have specified that.”

“I swear to fucking-“ she cuts herself off, extending out her hand, expecting him to give back her phone.  He does not do that though, which annoys her to no end.  “I will give you the worst song on the planet next time Ei has me write you something.”

Aether gasps, placing the phone in her hand.  “You wouldn’t dare.”

“I wouldn’t?” She asks, deciding to keep her eyes on the road.  “Try me.  How do you want me to refer to the next unnamed lover?  Call them a clown? Might work, especially with the goo goo eyes you’ve been sending Lyney.”

“We’re just friends.”

“Right, and I’m into Tartaglia,” she says sarcastically, pulling into the studio.  “Do you think he would appreciate being sung about?  It could include things only you two know, making it a whole Taylor Swift scenario.”

Aether sends her a look before looking behind himself, reaching over and shaking Kazuha awake.  How the man stayed asleep after hitting the window, Lumine does not care to find out.  Kazuha grumbles awake, squinting his eyes.  “Is it still an ungodly hour?”

“Blame Ei, not me,” Lumine says, shutting off the car and slipping out.  “But, if you two don’t get your asses up there, she’s going to have mine so let’s get going.”

A few more grumbles from the car, but overall she decides this mission is an amazing success.  Both boys actually get out of the car, which shocks her.  She glances at her phone, frowning at the messages Aether was looking at.

There’s a new Furina movie out do you wanna go see it together ??? Seen

It probably is better she did not get a response, especially with Aether snooping, but it still upsets her.  If they’ve seen it, they should be able to respond.  But no, they are busy.  Maybe they have yet to see it and the phone is glitching, yes that must be it.

Lumine puts away her phone, going with that conclusion.  It truly is the best one for her sanity.  It is simply too early to have negative thoughts.  

The elevator ride is uneventful.  If it were later in the day, most likely conversations would have taken place, but it is far too early to converse amongst each other.  When the doors open, Lumine cannot help but smile at Scaramouche who is leaning on a wall, staring blankly at his phone.

She doesn't even know if he actually notices her.

She does not even take it to heart.  Yes, they knew each other years ago, but that was years ago.  They have both changed, and even if they have each other’s numbers, that does not mean they have truly stayed in contact.

Ei sits at her desk, being the only one who seems actually awake.  Her hair is pulled into a tight bun, a feat Lumine is jealous of, simply because of how much this woman has.  “I’m glad all of you made it,” Ei says, not keeping her gaze on anyone in particular.

“Actually, I’m going to have to refuse to join whatever you’re doing,” Heizou says, glancing at the group.  Lumine recognizes the remaining people, those being Venti and Xiao.  Venti is borderline sleeping on Xiao’s shoulder, and the aforementioned man does not seem to care.  “I’m a solo artist.”

“And you’re now a part of the band.”

“No-“

“It’s in your contract,” Scaramouche says calmly, not looking up from his phone.  “It’s in all of our contracts.”

“I’m sorry, you’re a musician?” Heizou questions, causing Scaramouche’s gaze to snap forward.

Scaramouche stares him down for a moment, thoughts circulating his mind before he looks away.  “I’m retired.”

“What are you doing here then?”

“Scaramouche,” Ei says carefully, her gaze trained on Heizou, “is going to be working behind the scenes.  Protection during concerts, keeping track of your reputations, things like that.”

“And he knows how to do that?”

“Heizou, just shut up,” Lumine mutters.

“It’s a valid concern!” Heizou says, crossing his arms.  “And if it’s in our contract, why don’t I know about it?”

“Because you didn’t read the contract,” Kazuha sighs out, leaning on the wall.  “You heard the perks and signed before hearing anything that would benefit the label.”

“I-“ Heizou cuts himself off, seemingly thinking.  For a small moment, Lumine internally celebrates, because the man is finally quiet.  Perhaps that is mean, but she cannot bring herself to care.

“I expect all of you to put everything into this group, am I clear?”

“What about our solo careers?” Xiao asks, accidentally jostling Venti awake.  “You can’t expect us to put everything on pause for an experiment.”

“Obviously we aren’t canceling your solo careers,” Ei assures, waving him off.  “But I want to see how far you all can take this.  Lumine has already been crafting a few songs that I think will elevate all of your individual talents.  We can always come together again and rethink if it does not go well.”

Heizou sends her a glare, letting out a small sigh.  “We don’t have a choice…do we?”

Ei just sends him a closed eyed smile, an expression that Lumine wonders is Ei attempting to stop herself from strangling the man.  She knows it is hard enough for herself to avoid doing so.  “You don’t.”

“Great,” Kazuha mutters, shaking his head.  “When do we start?”

>> 02

masterlist

[cinewhore]

The Take Over - chapter two

Pairing: Marcus Pike x fem!reader

Rating: mature

word count: 2.5k

read the first chapter

warnings: mentions of body horror - peeling skin, sticking fingers down someone’s mouth, general angst

Summary: You investigate the body in Danny’s house and pay a visit to an old friend. 

A/N: This is an Invasion of the Body Snatchers AU. You don’t need to watch the film to understand what’s going on. Credit to the gif maker(s). No beta.

You regard the body with immense disgust and a slight intrigue. You were one hundred percent sure that Danny had called to fuck you, yapping your ear off about a body in his house that happened to look like him. Didn’t seem at all possible. Until you dragged Marcus out of the house with you, all the way to Danny’s and Sydney’s place, just to start at this thing on his floor.

“So, can you tell me what it is?” Danny prompts, scratching at his face. You frown, cocking a head toward him.

“I’m a fucking doctor, not a forensic expert.”

Danny shrugs. “Same thing, isn’t it?”

“Is it going to kill us?” Sydney rambles on, body shaking nonstop.

You breathe out slowly through your nose, pinching the bridge of it with two fingers. Marcus reads your gesture clearly, grabbing Sydney lightly by the elbow.

“Let’s go make some tea, that should help us calm down. Give them some room to work.”

Sydney agrees and follows Marcus to the kitchen. You shed your coat, pushing the coffee table back to create something semblance of a workspace. The body looked like Danny but there was no indication of it having any sort of sentience.

“Was it always lying here?”

“As far as I know. Sydney got up to get some water and then I heard her scream. Came running with the fucking bat and she’s cowering in the corner, pointing at this.” Danny lowers himself down into a squat. “I can’t believe this. It’s like a wax figure.”

An idea sparks.

“Dan, get me a paper and some ink, please.”

It takes a moment to find loose ink but Danny returns with the items faithfully, catching onto your scheme. He’s careful as he lifts the arm of the body, observing as you wet the fingertips, pressing them down on the paper.

“Huh, no fingerprints.”

“Freaky.” Then, “what does that mean?”

“If you ever really wanted to leave no traces, you’d burn your fingertips. Old school but it’ll do the trick. Unless, there were no fingertips to burn.”

Sydney and Marcus return, Sydney more at peace. Marcus offers you a cup of tea but you deny it, too keyed up to get distracted. To be honest, your stomach had been doing flips since you had gotten the phone call and you didn’t plan on vomiting anytime soon.

“What do we know so far?” Marcus asks you.

“I don’t know.”

You didn’t like giving that answer but it was the truth. Quickly glancing at Sydney, you change your tone.

“I don’t think it’ll cause any harm, though. At most it seems that it's still growing.”

“Can you move it?” Danny pipes up, holding the cup near his mouth to take a sip.

“I wouldn’t want to, im not sure if this is an active crime scene I’m fucking with and i don’t think the cops will be appreciative of me tampering with evidence.”

“The cops?” Sydney tightens the robe around her body. “Why would you call the cops? They’ll take one look at this and send us straight to the mental institute, I'm sure of it.”

Your annoyance flairs. “Well what else am I supposed to do? Listen, here’s what’s going to happen: my husband and I are going to go back home. You two are gonna sit here and monitor it, see if anything changes. If it does, call the cops. If it doesn’t, call the morgue.”

“So I just call the hospital and tell them that I have a dead body in my living room that looks like me but isn’t? C’mon, there has to be another way we can handle this.”

You glance at Marcus then back at Danny.

“Fine. Move it someplace more isolated but where you can keep a good look at it. If it wakes up or moves, call me or Marcus. We’ll deal with it, all of us, together.”

Sleeping didn’t come easy afterwards. You popped a few melatonins against Marcus’s judgment, not caring about the time but just wanting a solid sleep. You slip into unconsciousness an hour later, Marcus curled up near your back. You awake a little later, absolutely still in the throws of the heavy weight of slumber. It takes you a minute but you drag yourself out of the bed, your bladder screaming for attention. Trudging to the bathroom, you stop when you notice a light on in the kitchen downstairs.

You hadn’t remembered leaving a light on and even though it was out of your eyesight, the thought of a light being on made your teeth rattle. Taking it step by step, you make your way down the stairs, rubbing your eyes with the hope that it would make you more alert. For all you know there could be a thief in the house and you’d have no willpower to stop them in this state.

You halt in your steps, eyebrows drawing tight together upon noticing Marcus’s figure on the couch. He was asleep, some book long forgotten in his lap. You open your mouth to wake him but no sound comes out. Out of the corner of your eye, you detect a slight hint of movement. A figure emerges from the darkness of the adjacent hallway, you.

It was you and it wasn’t you. You were you, half asleep and dressed in an old t-shirt. The other you was completely nude. You stare in horror as she slips gracefully into the light fully, grinning at your expression. You don’t dare move an inch as she saddles up to you, taking a hand and delicately ghosting it over your face.

“You’re not real.” you barely mutter, voice hoarse.

“And you are?” she retorts.

It even laughed like you.

“What do you want?”

She scrunches her face in faux thought, humming. “Better. For you.” She tilts her head back at Marcus. “For him.”

“Please,” you beg. “Don’t involve him in this.”

You swear you see her face morph into something damn near demonic as she slinks towards your husband. She places herself on his lap, shushing him as he fidgets.

“He deserves so much more than what you have to offer. After all, he did give up his life so that you could have your dream.”

You shake your head. “No, this – this was our dream.”

“A silly little thing you keep telling yourself to make it through the day. With me, with us,” she fans her hand out to you. “We can have unimaginable things. You just have to let me in.”

“No.”

“Is that so?”

Your heart rattles in your chest as she advances upon you again, your feet finally cooperating with the rest of your body, allowing you to take a small step back.

She studies your face - her face - with a softness you had never experienced before. Is this how you actually looked to other people?

“Don’t be scared, it won’t hurt. We’ll start slow, ok?”

She pecks your lips, admiring the string of silvia that hangs from both of your mouths. She comes back in for another kiss and this time, you let her in further, parting your lips. Her tongue dances across yours, eliciting a tiny moan from you. She smiles as she pulls back, satisfied.

Her thumb rubs your bottom lip, teasing you as it slips in and out of your mouth. She pushes it further down, what started out as genuine curiosity turning into panic as she sticks more fingers in, her hand other ripping at your skin and tugging pieces of it off, the slight slap sound vibrating off of the kitchen floor, body fluids squelching and-

“Baby?”

You lurch forward, eyes flying open and lungs working overtime to push out more oxygen as you dry heave. Marcus sits in the bed next to you, the dark sky now replaced with sunlight streaking through the blinds.

You claw at your chest, mouth and face before lowering your head into your hands, a sob escaping your lips.

Marcus pulls you into his arms, leaving kisses in your hair.

“It’s ok, it’s ok, you were just dreaming. You’re ok.”

You take a few more deep breaths, extracting yourself from Marcus. Glancing at the nightstand, you snatch your phone off the charger.

“Did Syd or Danny call?”

Marcus shakes his head, clearly troubled by your behavior. “Are you alright?”

You know you should tell him what you saw, what you felt but figured there was no use in scaring him as well. You were going to get down to the bottom of whatever the fuck was going on but first you had some business you needed to handle.

Hitting 3 on your speed dial, you bite at the skin around your index finger. Janie picks up on the second ring.

“Where the hell are you? You promised coffee and I purposely skipped making any this morning.”

“I’m not coming in today, feeling a little under the weather. Have Shannon and Peter pick up any extra patients.”

“Of course.” a pause. “What’s going on? Really?”

You sigh. “Did Linda call?”

Janie pulls the phone away from her ear, blowing out an aggravated huff. She hated when you left her in the dark, especially when it concerned your work. You agree that she has a right to know but only when you’re absolutely sure of everything yourself.

“Yeah, she did, actually. Said she was being dramatic and that Joe is just fine.”

“Anything else?”

“Nope, she just canceled her appointment after and hung up. Sounded pretty chipper about it.”

“Fuck.”

Janie grunts. “Will you just tell me what in the hell is going on? I will show up to your doorstep, so help me-”

“Janie! I need you to shut up and listen to me for a second, ok?”

She settles down. You continue.

“There’s something strange happening in this town and I’m trying to understand it. When I know more, you’ll know more. For now, I just need you to promise to keep your mouth shut and eyes open. Can you do that for me?”

Janie swallows harshly, poking her tongue out to lick her lips. Usually she had some sort of snarky comment on her lips but the waver in your voice let her know that this was serious business.

“Yeah, yeah I can do that for you.”

“Good. Call me if you notice anything.”

Click.

You avoid Marcus’s glare boring a hole in your back, moving from the bed and into your closet.

“Where are you going?”

You nearly chuckle at your own response. “To see a doctor.”

Dr. Narduzzi’s office was situated near the edge of town, partially hidden by the overgrown greenery. Despite his shy exterior, Jean was quite the socialite, known to frequent many of the bars and taverns. Upon meeting the scrawny gentleman, you were unsure of what to make of him. He rubbed you in all the wrong ways, his loud and boastful personality clashed with yours directly.  Over time you began to see beneath the surface and learned to appreciate his eccentric methods.

Honestly, he had become one of your closest confidants.

As you entered his office, you noticed his secretary, Margot, was not present. The entire place was empty, except for a repeating thud sound coming from Jean’s study near the back of the building.

The door was open and that’s where you find the psychiatrist, launching darts at a board.

He flicks his wrist and sends a dart flying, narrowly missing the bullseye.

“You’re a very busy man, I see.” you remark, sitting down in an armchair. You applauded him for the velvet material, you would purchase something like this for your own office but loathed the cleaning process that came with it.

“As always, my dear. As I remember, we have not scheduled our regular tête a tête, so this is a business meeting,” he throws another dart and misses, landing in the outer right corner. “What can I help you with today?”

“I think I’m losing my mind.”

Jean’s toothy gap smile almost covered his whole face. He haphazardly throws the remaining darts in his hand all at the same time, not caring where they end up as he sits at his desk. “Tell me more.”

“Last night, I had this dream where I was antagonized by..myself. I was looking at my reflection except it wasn’t in a mirror, she was standing right in front of me.”

Narduzzi squints his eyes as he nods, hanging onto every word you said. You don’t spend much longer describing the dream, the recounting of the story sending chills down your spine.

“That’s very interesting.” Jean thinks, rocking himself back and forth in his chair.

“I don’t need interesting, I need a solution.”

Jeans tsks. “A solution only comes when there’s something to be fixed.”

“Oh, don’t give me this metaphorical bullshit now, Jean. What does this mean? I haven’t mentioned it before, not even to Marcus but I’ve been having hallucinations and dreams like this prior to last night. I just assumed I was dehydrated, stressed or whatever but this is clearly something.”

“Mhm. Well, I know that the mirror and our reflection show us our true selves.” He rubs at his jaw.

“Are you saying that a part of me wants what she wants?”

“Potentially,” Jean gets up from his chair, coming to stoop in front of you. He grabs your hands, rubbing them in between his own. “While I do think there are some clear signs of stress and exhaustion, I think you should listen to your body. Give in. You may be surprised to see what you discover.”

The smile on your face fades as Jean squeeze’s your hands tighter, his grip pinching at your skin.

“Jean-”

You struggle in his hold, unsure of what to make of this.

“Jean, please, let go. You’re hurting me.” you breath out a panicked laugh, mustering up all of your body strength to throw him off of you.

“Don’t you get it? All the signs, practically handed to you on a silver platter. Let her in and all will be well. You can be one of us.”

Your fight or flight instincts kick in and you tackle Jean, the both of you tumbling around on the ground until you manage to escape him. You scoop up your keys and cellphone, dashing out of the door.

You don’t dare look behind you as you enter your car, skirting out of the parking lot and onto the main road. You barely let your feet up off the gas until you reach home, throwing your car in park and making a run for the front door.

You were in such a state that you didn’t notice the extra car in your driveway.

“Marcus? Marcus!” you yell, tearing through the kitchen and living room. Marcus emerges from his office, Sydney and Danny in tow.

“We have a problem.” you pant, short-winded.

Marcus looks grim. “Yeah, we do. That thing, it woke up.”

[screaming-universe]

Hidden in plain view

word count: 2,370

Eddie, his slutty black top and a lot of pain, from season 2 onward.

A short fic inspired in part by @nymika-arts very gorgeous art.

also on ao3

Eddie has a racerback top that does a good job at showing off his shoulders, he thinks. Buck calls it Eddie’s slutty top the first time they work out after pulling a grenade out of Charlie’s leg, after he’s decided that maybe Eddie isn’t all that bad. Eddie’s not sure he’d call it slutty but it is rather revealing, he can’t dispute that. He likes the freedom of movement it gives him, that it isn’t in his way – it’s comfortable. Buck just laughs at that reasoning, tells him he could move just as well in a top that doesn’t show off his shoulder blades. Eddie goes back to hitting the bag but he does so with a smile.

.....

Then Shannon dies, Buck’s in the hospital, Buck’s in the hospital again, Buck and Chris are in the tsunami, Chris has nightmares, Buck sues the LAFD. Each of those would be a lot on their own; all of them together are just too much. Eddie feels like he’s fracturing, breaking apart. He feels like he needs to hide, just a bit. His racerback top stays in his wardrobe, he always picks one that is less revealing.

He finds that that isn’t necessary when he fights. When he fights he is in control, he has energy and focus. He isn’t falling apart. He pulls off his top and steps into the ring. As soon as he has left it though he pulls on a hoodie that is too big – it is Buck’s, he knows that, but as angry as he is with Buck he still finds comfort in it. He hides away again.

Buck comes back, Chris’s nightmares are better – he talks to a therapist, thank god. And Shannon is still dead. Eddie forgives Buck, of course he does, how couldn’t he? He knows why Buck did what he did, he knows that Buck didn’t mean for them to get hurt. He knows. He heals a little, he thinks, just by having Buck in his life again, by seeing Buck and Christopher together again. Chris doesn’t continue to ask about Buck with hurt in his eyes, he asks with excitement now. But as good as it is to have Buck back again, Eddie is still falling apart.

Eddie nearly drowns in a hole forty feet below the ground. He doesn’t quite remember his fight back out of there, at least not all of it. He is so cold, even hours afterwards. Buck goes to the hospital with him, drives him home when he’s free to go. He keeps him upright to look in on Christopher sleeping peacefully, holds Eddie close to him in the shower when his legs threaten to give out. Afterwards he is so tired that everything feels hazy but when he wakes up the next day, he wears soft sweatpants and a thick hoodie that are definitely not his own. But he knows Buck left them here since Eddie washed them on the last laundry day.

.....

Then there’s suddenly a pandemic. Him, Hen and Chimney move in with Buck, he moves into Buck’s bed, basically. Sometimes he wakes up with Buck in his arms, sometimes he wakes up in Buck’s, warm and comfortable. As much as he loves that, loves to not fall asleep alone and to not wake up alone, he misses Chris more. His son is safe but Eddie wants nothing more than to hold him in his arms, to talk to him directly.

There’s a pandemic and somehow that doesn’t make Eddie want to show more skin. He left his racerback top at home anyway and he doesn’t really miss it.

The pandemic stays – oh surprise! – but they get better at dealing with it. He goes back home and hugs Chris until his son pats him on the shoulder and tells him it’s alright. Things are starting to get better, he thinks.

And then he gets shot in the middle of the street in the middle of the day.

.....

Eddie wakes up in a hospital, Ana by his side. She immediately calls Buck, knowing Eddie wants to see him without even having to say something. They call Chris – Buck’s taking care of him without even knowing about his will. Buck says something about it being better if Buck had been shot and Eddie’s too high on painkillers to quite comprehend what he’s saying and definitely too high and exhausted to tell Buck he’s stupid in a way Buck will understand.

Buck helps him into his clothes when he’s released from the hospital. It’s painful and Eddie feels utterly useless. But the worst thing is Buck’s face when he sees the back of Eddie’s shoulder. It’s covered with gauze and what not but he still freezes. Eddie doesn’t know what to say.

Healing is slow and painful and Eddie feels powerless but he is getting stronger. When the bandage comes off for good, Eddie can barely look at his shoulder. Both the entry and the exit wound look ragged and angry and it’s hard to imagine they’ll ever get better – even though he has proof of that on his left shoulder. Surprisingly he finds it easier to look at the exit wound, and not just because it’s on the front of his torso. The entry wound somehow feels… realer? He’s glad he can’t see it when he looks in the mirror.

It takes time and effort but Eddie makes it back to the 118. He sticks to the tops that cover his scars but one morning, when he’s stressed and has to get Chris to school and all workout tops are in the laundry, he grabs the last one in his wardrobe without thinking about it. He puts it on, lost in thought and moves to punch a bag. He isn’t lost in thought though when he hears Buck gasp behind him. Buck looks like he has seen a ghost, is frozen to the spot. It’s then that Eddie realises that he’s wearing his racerback top – which does nothing to hide the scar on the back of shoulder. The scar on the front of his shoulder isn’t hidden by the top either, at least not entirely, but it has faded much more already, looks less angry.

They don’t quite talk about it. Eddie stops wearing the top again.

.....

Eddie has a panic attack, breaks up with Ana, Christopher is afraid of him dying, he quits the 118. Dispatch is fine but he can’t sleep and thanks to the insomnia he has forgotten what it feels like to be warm. He is fracturing again, he realises, probably never stopped in the first place, only delayed the inevitable. He tries to hide in his clothes, tries to hide the cracks. He finds comfort in them. Then he breaks his room and breaks down himself.

Buck finds him there, slowly helps him to pick up the pieces. Eddie’s still hiding away in hoodies – some of them Buck’s, he thinks. He gets better, slowly but steady. Therapy’s exhausting but at least he gets to come home to his son – and Buck. The whole 118 is there to support him when it becomes too much, first and foremost Buck.

Things are looking up.

.....

Buck gets struck by lightning, Eddie too. Buck is dead for three minutes and seventeen seconds. Three minutes and seventeen seconds until Eddie can get his heart to restart and he’s taken away from them. Days until Buck wakes up, days Eddie can barely be in the same room as him. He’s been here before, he thinks, but he’s too exhausted to discern what that means. Eddie’s got some Lichtenberg figures on his thigh and hip, it might scar he’s told. He doesn’t care.

Buck falls asleep on his couch and they actually have a talk about what happened when Eddie makes Chris’s lunch for the next day. Buck’s been wearing sweatpants and long-sleeved shirts every time Eddie’s seen him. When Buck comes back to the 118, he wears the short-sleeved uniform shirts he usually wears. He sticks to t-shirts when working out though.

.....

It’s Eddie’s way overdue laundry day and he’s wearing some of the few things he doesn’t have to wash: his racerback top and cut-off sweats. It’s the A shift’s day off and Chris is at school so nobody is there to see him, it should be fine. Should be. He hears the door opening and Buck’s calling out and then when Eddie turns around, Buck stands there, frozen.

“Sorry,” he says, his voice hoarse and his eyes wet as they look at Eddie’s and then quickly to the shoulder again, as though he can see through it and at the entry wound scar. “We talked about the shooting but I– I can’t get used to it. To seeing it.”

“I know,” Eddie says, still watching Buck’s face.

“Is that why you stopped wearing your slutty top?” Buck asks and looks up at Eddie again. The smile on his face is brittle.

Eddie just shrugs. It feels more complicated than that, it is more complicated than that.

“Why aren’t you wearing tank tops anymore?” he asks instead of answering.

Buck looks startled, then he’s trying to find the words but Eddie’s got time, he’s patient.

“The lightning left scars,” Buck says. “They look kind of cool but… I know they’ll just remind you – all of you – of what happened.”

“Buck,” Eddie says and waits until he meets his eyes again. “As if we could ever forget, scars or not.”

“I know,” Buck says and shakes his head. “But the scars make it more real.”

“I probably got a shirt around here somewhere,” Eddie says, suddenly unsure if he can actually have this conversation. He tries to walk past Buck to his room but before he can actually get away, Buck grabs his top and holds onto it. Eddie doesn’t turn around but he doesn’t try to free himself either. He’s been waiting for this – Buck reaching out, quite literally in this case. Buck’s hand his resting between his shoulder blades, barely touching him so it’s more of a warm whisper against his skin.

“Can I show you?” Buck asks, his voice barely even a whisper.

Eddie turns around and when he does Buck looks right back at him. He doesn’t let go of Eddie’s top either, meaning that they are suddenly quite close. Eddie nods slowly. He needs to see those scars too.

Slowly, without breaking eye-contact, Buck lets go of Eddie and moves to take his shirt of.

“They are way cooler than your scars though,” Buck says with a small grin. “Prepare yourself.”

“Stop talking and start stripping, Buckley,” Eddie says, unable to not smile back.

Buck is right, Eddie thinks. The Lichtenberg figure scars do actually look quite cool. They nearly took Buck away from him forever.

“Can I look at yours?” Buck asks, suddenly quiet again.

“What are we comparing here?” Eddie asks with a sad smile but he knows. They had close brushes with death, both of them. But somehow those two wounds – the gunshot wound and the lightning tree – symbolise all that more than anything else. Wounds that nearly killed them, right in front of the other. Eddie pulls his top over the head without saying anything else.

They just stare at each other, taking in the scars, what led to them.

“Can I touch?” Eddie hears himself asking, his hand already hovering over Buck’s chest.

“Yeah,” Buck breathes and grabs Eddie’s wrist to move his hand the last few inches.

Eddie let’s his fingers follow the branches of the lightning tree that grows on Buck’s left shoulder and chest. It is beautiful, in a way. And scary. How can something so horrible leave something so beautiful?

“Can I–“ Buck just trails off but Eddie knows what he’s asking for. He nods and grabs Buck’s hand to move it to his own shoulder. The exit wound has scarred rather nicely – at least as nicely as it can. It is smooth and shiny but it has faded, it will probably continue to fade a bit more but it’ll always be visible, Eddie knows that.

Buck nudges him to turn around and Eddie lets him. He hears Buck’s breath catch again but before he can turn back around, Buck’s hand touches Eddie’s left shoulder, his thumb moves across the small scar a few times, carefully, before it settles and gently holds Eddie there. When Buck touches his right shoulder, just below his scar, he shudders before he can stop it.

“Are you sure this is alright, Eddie?”

“Yes,” Eddie whispers. “Sorry, I was just unprepared.” He clears his throat, trying to calm down again. “Go on.”

Buck’s hand ghosts over the scar, hardly touching. Then he lets his hand settle on Eddie’s shoulder blade. He’s just looking, Eddie thinks and feels Buck’s breath on the back of his neck. He almost shivers again but for an entirely different reason.

“When we got you into the engine you asked me if I was wounded,” Buck says and Eddie just listens. He knows what Buck is talking about. He can barely remember anything about the shooting but he knows that Buck remembers just about everything that happened, still has nightmares about it. “You got shot and I was so close that some of your blood landed on me. Eddie,” he says and sounds very hoarse again. “You were dying and you were worried about me.”

“I don’t remember,” is all Eddie can say as he’s trying to work through this new information.

“I know.”

“I’m sorry,” Eddie says and looks over his shoulder. Buck is smiling sadly but he shakes his head.

“Don’t be,” he says and squeezes Eddie’s shoulder gently.

Eddie just turns around and pulls Buck into a hug. Their upper bodies are still undressed, he realises; they’ve never hugged like this before but when Buck’s arms wrap around him and pull him closer, he lets himself relax.

“I see you,” he whispers against Buck’s neck.

“I know,” Buck repeats and holds him tighter.

.....

The next time they work out, Buck wears a top that doesn’t hide his Lichtenberg figure entirely. And he grins when he sees Eddie in his slutty tank top.