#i can’t even explain the way i wheezed when i saw this

[leopardom]

not “wolves in california” being an actual track title 😭

[erwinsvow]

𝐬𝐮𝐢𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐬𝐨𝐮𝐥

summary: you were a pogue, and now you're a kook. just like how once you were no one's, and now you're rafe cameron's.

author's note: here it is!!! imagine like s1 rafe with the s2 hair, and basically just having a former-pogue girlfriend through out the whole season. i just think rafe would actually be such a good boyf, he just needs someone to settle him down when he gets a lil crazy. follows the sequence of s1 until about 3/4ths down, where i just started making stuff up. you might read this & think no one would act like this.. and that's fine, i know they wouldn't, but this is a self indulgent story for rafe <3 part 2 of the other seasons maybe? enjoy!!

now spinning: black beauty by lana del rey (soooooo rafe coded! he just needs a hug and some pussy!)

word count: 13.5k

warnings/tags: wheeze is a toddler for no reason. reader isn't the biggest fan of the pogues at this point in time. smut: oral (f receiving), fingering, degregation, use of daddy, rafe calls reader kid because <3, lemme know if i forgot something!

“So that’s it? Really? Your mom is marrying a Kook and you’re moving across the island… just like that?” John B speaks to you as if you had any choice in the matter. You look at him sadly, but you’ve cried so much the last few days, it’s hard to find any more tears.  

You want to tell him, want to explain everything. The way your mom has been so lonely for years, ever since your dad passed away. The way she would pull double-shifts every week just to make sure you had the nice, trendy shoes and hot dinner every night. The way you grew up in the cut but it never felt any different than growing up in figure eight, because she took care of you.

And now it was your turn, to take care of her. Blake Richards was rich, and he wanted to take care of your mom, which meant for the first time in a long time, she would be the one being taken care of. And you owed that to her, you owed that much.

“I-I don’t really have a choice, John B. I mean, this is my mom. And she’s getting her chance to be happy. I can’t ruin it for her.”

“Yeah, I get all that but, like, does this mean you’re gonna go full-Kook on us? Because I think that would just be disturbing,” JJ says, and you crack a smile, even as you feel a tear spill down your cheek. 

“I don’t think I could ever go full-Kook.” It comes out quietly, a notch above a whisper.

“Hey, hey,” you hear John’s voice again, as he stands up to get closer to you. You feel embarrassed, the way your cheeks flush and heat up when he’s only a few inches away from you. He wipes the tear away with his thumb. “No crying, okay? Nothing has to change.”

The way he says it, you almost believe him.

“Right,” you say, still quiet. There’s a sob stuck behind your throat, and you don’t want the boys to know how upset you really are. You’ve stitched up these boys more times than you can count, set shoulders and bones and nursed bruises for them. “Nothing has to change,” you repeat, trying to convince yourself. Everything was about to change, starting with your relationship with them.

And that’s the one thing you wish could stay the same. Deep down, no matter how many times you were teased and laughed with, there was a part of you, buried away, that thought you would end up with one of these boys one day. Sweet John, funny JJ, smart Pope. Well, maybe not Pope. You’ve seen the way he stares at Kie, even when no one else notices.

But John and JJ, the possibility of being with one of them always lingered in the air. Even when they’re flirting with tourists or cracking so-called boy jokes that you just wouldn’t understand, you always thought they were your endgame.

If only you knew. 

Pope and Kiara drive up, just as you’re wiping away another tear. You’re dreading repeating everything to them, shedding more tears. 

౨ৎ

“Who is that?” Topper asks, eyeing some girl entering the club. Rafe was getting sick of Topper crying over every pretty girl he saw on the street when he was supposedly dating his sister. He hardly cared about Sarah, daddy’s favorite, but that was his family, and he wouldn’t tolerate disrespect to his family. 

“She must be fresh meat,” Kelce says, “I’ve never seen her before.”

“Tourist?” Topper questions. Rafe downs the rest of his drink. 

“Nah, man, see that guy ahead of her? That’s Blake Richards. My dad works with him, he’s a big finance guy. He’s a widower, but I guess not anymore.” 

“Step-daughter? Jesus,” Topper says. “It’s like a cheesy porno. But I wouldn’t be surprised if he married her mom to tap that, I mean-”

“Enough,” Rafe snaps. “Shouldn’t you be in a fight with my sister?” Topper blanches. 

“I mean, look at her Rafe. That is something special,” Kelce says, and then finally, Rafe lifts his head to look at you.

You look… confused. Your head is turning, taking in everything about the club, like you’d never been there before. A waiter comes up to your family with tall glasses of water, little pieces of cucumber and lemon floating around in them with ice cubes. Richards—your step-father—takes a glass and hands it to a woman who can only be your mother, with the same hair and complexion. Before he can take a glass to hand to you, you take it from the tray yourself, smiling and saying thank you. The waiter, some teenage Pogue, blushes at your affection.

When you start walking, continuing the tour, the waiter turns to look at you walk away, gawking like men do when they see something pretty. Rafe feels an overwhelming urge to punch the kid, and cover you up with his jacket. 

You’re not in anything too immodest, compared to what he’s seeing girls at the club walking around in, but it feels like it’s too much for the leering eyes that follow you. Your jean skirt comes down a little less than half-way to your thighs. Your shirt is white, with puffy sleeves and little buttons that tighten around the chest.

He sees a glimpse of cleavage, which makes his chest tighten uncomfortably, not in the way he’s used to when he sees a pretty girl. He wants to take his shirt off his back and slide it onto you, buttoning it up all the way and making sure no one else looks at you the way he’s looking at you right now.

“Rafe?” his friend calls, and he’s not sure which one. In your glancing, you turn towards Rafe and you lock eyes for a second. You must have noticed him staring. You probably think he’s crazy, but he doesn’t seem to care much at the moment. Your mother must have beckoned you, because you turn away in a second, walking towards the older couple, trailing behind them again.

“Be right back,” he says, leaving a confused Topper and Kelce behind him at the table. He cuts through the tables near the bar, entering the walkway where your family is already, but coming out of the other end. He gets there just in time to run into Richards, who’s leading the little group.

“Hi, Mr. Richards, right?” he says, holding his hand out. “Rafe Cameron.”

“Oh, Rafe, hi,” the older man replies, shaking his hand. Rafe grips hard, making sure Richards doesn’t think he has a wimpy handshake. Otherwise he’s never gonna agree to what Rafe has in mind. “I haven’t seen you in years, I mean you were half your height last time I was over at Tannyhill.”

“Crazy, right? Well I just wanted to say hi since I ran into you. How’s, uh Benny and Brax?” 

“I can’t believe you remember them, they haven’t been to Kildare in years. They’re good, yeah, Benny’s in California now, and Brax is out at law school, at Oxford.”

“Oh yeah, international law, right?”

“Yeah,” Richards says, smiling wide. “You’ve got quite a memory, son, I’ll have to tell Rafe when I see him.”

“Oh yeah, he’s around here somewhere.” Then, he makes his move. He turns his gaze to your mom first. He thinks about it briefly, but if he addresses you before her, your mom will be on guard. He knows how their minds work. “I don’t believe we’ve met before, I’m Rafe,” and he shakes your mom’s hand, but turns back to Richards for the introduction—something else in his little cheat-sheet of rules. Let dad do the talking, so he feels like he’s in control. 

“Rafe, this is my wife, Anna-”

“Nice to meet you, Rafe,” your mom smiles at him sweetly, and he smiles back. 

“-and my step-daughter.” You smile, and hold your hand out. He shakes your hand, gently, and looks at your face, because he can tell the smile is forced. He wonders why. 

“Nice to meet you.” he says, and you smile that forced way again.

“You too, Rafe.” You let go of his hand, and it’s good, because if he held on any longer, the adults would get suspicious.

“First time here?” he questions, still looking at you.

“Yes,” your mother answers, laughing, if not a little uncomfortably. “Is it that obvious?”

“Nah, it’s a lot to take in, I remember that much.” Richards smiles at him, almost beaming. He knows Rafe has been coming here since he could walk. That means the old man appreciates him trying to comfort his new family. Another step closer.

“It is,” Anna says, looking at her daughter. She has those worried eyes, the one Ward’s new wife won’t stop looking at him with. 

“Well, it’s the perfect place to be all summer. I mean, pretty much everyone our age is at the pool or the courts.” At his mention of the both of you, you look up from staring at your shoes quickly to looking right at him. He smiles. You don’t smile back. 

“Really?” Richards asks, still openly friendly.

“I mean yeah, Mister R, I remember Benny on the golf course, like, everyday. And Brax, I mean he practically taught half of us how to swim.” Richards nods and laughs, continuing small talk about his sons. Rafe sneaks another glance at you, and you look back knowingly, like you can smell his intentions from a mile away. 

“Honey?” your mom asks quietly. “Do you wanna go with Rafe?”

“What?” you reply quickly, surprised. You weren’t listening, and he tries hard not to laugh.

“Well, I can take you ‘round, introduce you to everyone. I’ll finish the tour if you and Mrs. Richards are heading up to the course?” He nods at the golf clothes your parents have on, that you are lacking. 

“I think that sounds great, right, honey?” Anna presses, and after you lock eyes with her, you nod in agreement.

“Yeah, sure,” you say quietly. Rafe smiles again.

“Great, great, yeah. Well, it was great to see you Mister R. Missus R.”

“Thank you, Rafe. Kiddo, you can ask for the car to go home when you’re ready, okay? Your mother and I are going to get dinner here.” Anna looks up confused, probably wondering how they’ll get back.

“I’ll call someone to bring the car back, honey,” he explains, and your mom smiles.

“I can also take her back,” Rafe interjects. “Tannyhill is the same direction, and I’m headed back anyways. If you wanna leave the car here.”

“Really, Rafe, that would be great, thank you.” You look even angrier than before, but the plastic smile spread over your face doesn’t faze them.

“Right, thanks, Blake. Bye mom,” you say, and then lean over to kiss her on the cheek.

You watch them walk away, chewing your cheek and turning back to Rafe with anger splashed all over your pretty features. 

“I can’t believe that worked on them,” you tell him quietly, smiling when your mom turns back to look at you before they turn the corner. Your parents were too gullible sometimes.

“Yeah, me either, kid.”

“Don’t call me that,” you reply right away. “And despite what you think, I’m not touring this place with you. I’m probably never coming back here after today.” You start walking away, in the opposite direction of your parents, when he chases behind you.

“Y’know, I don’t get you. Every girl your age lounges around here all day, and everyone else wishes they could.”

“Well, you know what they say,” you start, smiling sweetly, though he sees through it again. “Idle hands are the devil’s workshop.”

“Really?” he shrugs. “Never heard that before.”

“Yeah, you wouldn’t have.” 

“Come on, you’re not even giving me a chance. You don’t even know me.” You laugh at that.

“Yes, I do, Rafe, you just don’t recognize me.” You continue your brisk pace, looking for the exit and getting closer. He reaches out to grab your forearm, holding you back for a second. He guides you into the corner, between the hallway where there’s no one else around.

“Yeah, that so?” Rafe is almost caging you in. He’s so close you can smell his cologne and the scotch on his lips.

“I’m from Kildare, Rafe.” You try to break free of his grip, but it proves even harder than you thought. He holds you in place without even breaking a sweat.

“No, no, no, because I know every pretty girl in Kildare. And you’ve definitely never been here before, so-”

“Really? Even the ones from the cut?” You thought that would be enough to get him to drop your arm, but he doesn’t budge.

“Huh. So that’s why you’ve never been here. Old Man Richards married a Pogue and made her daughter into a Kook? Did I get that right?”

“I’m not a Kook,” you say, squirming, because you still don’t want to be trapped by him. His cologne smells good, your mind wanders and thinks, like ocean air and sandalwood. You snap out of it at once.

“Not yet, you’re not.” 

“I’m not going to be, either. A little money isn’t going to change anything for me.”

“Yeah, yeah, kid. That’s what everyone says, ‘til it does.”

“Rafe, let go of me, I said let go-” And he does let go, quickly, and your arm falls. Faint red marks appeared when he was holding on, what can only be a bruise tomorrow. He’s marked you, and you’re not half as angry as you would have thought. 

“Come on, kid, we’re finishing this tour. I promised,” he says, and the last bit is so mocking, you can’t believe mom and Blake fell for his act. 

He takes you around the entire club, shows you the restaurants, the spa, the pool. At least a handful of girls stare at the two of you walking side by side, but Rafe doesn’t look back at anyone. You don’t know how to feel about that.

The oldest Cameron isn’t a mystery to anyone in Kildare, but you don’t know anything about him besides what the boys have told you. JJ hates him, naturally, John doesn’t let you look at him in passing, and even Pope can find a few bad things to say. But right now, he’s not doing any of those things you would have expected once he found out you and your mom are from the other side of the island. The crude jokes and gold-digger comments are nowhere to be heard.

But you can’t write him off completely yet. After all, this is Rafe Cameron.

He finishes the tour on the golf course, so you can wave to your parents on the course. You’re sipping on a lemonade through a little pink straw, and he finds it hard to look away when your cheeks hollow to draw up the liquid. Your mom and Blake wave back, and you smile—genuinely—for maybe the third time that morning. 

“They’re good together,” Rafe comments, on the walk back to the front door, where his truck is waiting. 

“Do you really think that?” you ask quietly. You’re tired, he can tell, drained from trying so hard to make sure he knows you hate him. 

“Yeah, kid, I do. He’s been a widower basically my whole life. And he married your mom, so he must really love her.”

You can’t tell if he’s just saying it to get on your good side. You hope he’s not. Through all of this, all the crying and the suffering and how much you miss your old life and your friends, if your mom doesn’t at least end up happy, it’ll all have been for nothing. You feel more tears brewing.

“Thanks, Rafe,” you end up saying quietly, as you put on the seat belt in the passenger seat of his truck. His music plays softly in the background of the drive - rap, something you've heard before but can't place - back to Blake’s house. With your window down, you stare out of it and try to pay attention to the breeze in your hair rather than the entirely overwhelming scent of Rafe, which is all-consuming in his car.

Rafe turns to look at you every few minutes. You look perfectly in place in his car, leaning against the panel with your eyes closed. That means you trust him, even though every word you say makes him think otherwise.

Your eyes flutter open when he puts the car in park, outside the door to your house. 

“Home sweet home, kid,” you hear his voice in your ear, but he sounds closer than he should be. When you turn to look, he’s leaning over you and so close to you, you feel the heat radiating from his body. 

“What’re you doing?” you ask quickly, heartbeat picking up and rocketing off. 

“M’just getting the door for you, kid.” His arm flexes, only an inch or two away from your chest, pulling the handle and swinging open the door. He leans back into his seat, smirking. “Why, what'd ya think I was gonna do?”

You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding in and swallow uncomfortably. Your throat feels dry and your palms are suddenly clammy.

“Nothing.” 

“Sure. Whatever you say.”

You climb out of his car, shoes hitting the ground a little too hard. He strains his neck, trying to make sure you’re okay. 

“Thanks for the ride,” you say, not meeting his eyes, closing the door behind you. 

“Anytime, kid. I’ll be seeing you around.”

You thought he would take over the second the passenger-side door was shut, but he doesn’t. He stays and watches you fix your skirt that had ridden-up on the drive, and walk into the front door, glancing behind you, just for a second, before going inside. And then you hear the roar of the engine, only after the door was closed and you were safely inside.

౨ৎ

You didn’t take it literally, that you would be seeing him again. Rafe seems like the type to play with his toys and get bored before long, but true to his word, you see him days later. And to his luck, you were feeling even worse than the first time you met him.

The morning started like any other—showering in a bathroom that’s just yours, and no one else’s, and attached to your bedroom. You can hardly remember the years when your dad was alive, but after he passed, you and your mom moved into a tiny two-bed, one-bath with your mom’s best friend. You were there for the next five years, until she got married and moved out, and it was just the two of you. But even in all the years since, you’ve never had your own bathroom until now. 

You shower as long as you want, whenever you want. Your room is in a completely different hallway than the master, where Blake and your mom sleep. You blast music at night, singing along off-tune from the bathroom, and would stay on the phone for hours with your friends. If anyone answered your calls anymore. 

It’s been three weeks since you broke the news to everyone that you were moving. Two weeks since you actually moved. One week since Rafe walked you around the country club and drove you back home, like you belonged to him. In that time, you’ve driven down to the Chateau twice, walked by Kie’s house, which is now just a few blocks away, and texted multiple times—all with no responses. At first you panic, thinking something’s happened, but then you realize this was what always happened. When you’re off on an adventure, you don’t think about who’s waiting for you back at home.

That’s what’s running through your mind when you run into Rafe again that day.

You had showered without interruption, taking your time doing your hair up just because you felt like it. There was no work to be done, no chores assigned to you anymore. Breakfast was always prepared when you went downstairs, so you took your time getting ready now. 

You missed a lot of things about your old life, but the limited time and constant rushing and anxiety were not among them. 

Your clothes were picked out with the anticipation of seeing your best friends again, your favorite overalls from the thrift store—which had been bought when you were still two sizes too small for them, and had been baggy on you until last year, but they were such a steal your mother refused to let you put them back—and a yellow shirt to match your ratty, yellow converse. They had been washed so many times they were more brown than yellow, but it didn’t matter much. 

This outfit was the old you, and it brought up feelings inside you that nothing in figure eight could change. You wore it because you wouldn’t look any different to your friends in this outfit, and for maybe a few hours, you wouldn’t be the girl in the fancy house with the country club membership anymore.

“You look nice, sweetie,” your mom says, when you head downstairs. She’s drinking her coffee at the table, your step-dad nowhere to be found. It’s eleven in the morning and she’s just woken up too, in her robe and slippers, and you smile, watching her more relaxed than you’ve seen in years.

You swing by her side of the table to give her a kiss, and steal a piece of toast from her plate. You’re relieved she doesn’t mention your clothes, not when she keeps offering to take you shopping with Blake’s money, which you keep refusing, but is getting more tempting every time you step in a puddle in these shoes.

“Thanks mom, I’m going to see the boys and Kie, I’ll be back later, don’t wait up!” and with that you’re gone, before you can discern the disapproving look in her eyes. 

Your junky old car, older than you by several years and still somehow the nicest thing you own—used to own, a voice chirps in the back of your head—is hidden around several fancy cars in the driveway. It’s intentional, you’re sure, and likely your mother’s doing. Nothing embarrassed her more than you handing out constant reminders of your old life to everyone around you.

And then you’re on the way to the Chateau, windows down and no music, since there was no way to connect your phone and the radio was busted by Pope a year ago, who claims he was trying to fix it. 

But it’s what happens when you get there that embarasses you the most—no one’s there, and no one will answer your call. You wait around for a half hour, trying to see if they come back, but they don’t. 

And that’s when it hits you. They were off on their adventures, and you weren’t just down the street anymore, which meant you weren’t invited. You get back in your car and slam the door, humiliated, tears falling down your face and probably ruining the makeup you had done, stupidly, this morning, because you wanted to look nice for them, like your old self for them. You don’t realize until later, after you were done crying, and seen Rafe again, that your friends didn’t want to bother you while you were adjusting to your new life. 

You feel betrayed, and the words that John had told you rattle through your head, because he was wrong. Everything had changed, and nothing would be the same. 

You take off, heading back home. There’s a big storm brewing and your Accord gets dramatic in the rain. It’s not until you cross the border back into figure eight that you realize two things. One, that you had just thought of your new house as home for the first time. And two, that you had never felt more alone. 

There’s not much to do about either of these feelings, besides stopping for the biggest bowl of ice cream you can reasonably carry back home, and eating it in your room, crying and watching You’ve Got Mail for the hundredth time.

So that’s what you do, pulling into the ice cream shop closest to home. Your car also doesn’t have the greatest functioning air conditioner, and you don’t need any more questionable stains in your seats, considering how many times JJ had borrowed it and returned it, promising you it’s nothing and that that spot in the back seat was always there!

In line, tapping your foot, calling your mom’s cell. Your eyes are puffy and your nose is red from crying. She’s not answering, but the unspoken rule of your little family is to always, always call when you’re getting ice cream in case the other wants something. You’ve only been gone something like two hours, and you can’t imagine what she’s doing that she can’t answer your phone. You dial Blake’s number, hoping he answers instead, and while it’s ringing you realize it’s your turn to order. You haven’t even looked at the menu yet. 

You turn to the people behind you, telling them they can go in front, but when you look up from your phone, you almost drop it. 

Of course it’s Rafe Cameron behind you. Of course. Who else would it be? Who else would keep catching you at your lowest moments? He’s with a little girl, who can’t be older than four or five, with dark hair and glasses, holding his hand patiently while staring up at you, while you stare at him and he stares back.

“Rafe, she said we can go in front,” she says, tugging on the hand she’s holding. 

“Yeah, Wheeze, I heard. Let’s go order and then thank this nice girl for letting us go ahead, right?” The little girl nods, and follows him up to order. Rafe looks back at you but then your step-dad answers, so you turn away, cheeks heating up. You don’t want him to see.

“Hi, what’s going on?” you hear his voice through the phone, sort of staticky and jumbled. 

“Hi, Blake, I just wanted to ask if you and mom wanted ice cream? I’m at the place… yeah, the one near the house.”

“Oh, yes, let me ask her, one second-” You hear him put the phone down, or cover the mic, and then, “Honey! Kiddo’s asking if you want ice cream.” 

You feel yourself soften a little bit at the nickname. And then you hear your mom and Blake talking back and forth, for what feels like ages. The girl behind the counter looks at you with a glare and you try to look back at her with an apologetic smile, but you’re a little fed-up from the emotional turmoil you’ve just endured. 

“Hi, sweetie, I’m okay, I had some at the club with lunch and twice in a day is just not a good idea-”

“Just get it, who cares? We can have it later tonight too-”

“What if the power goes out? It’ll melt, and then it’s just a waste of money-” Crap. You hadn’t thought of that.

“We have generators for that.” Blake picks up the phone again. “Hey, kiddo, get your mom her usual and make sure you use the card I gave you, okay?”

You hang up the phone, smiling, and then order. It feels weird, being oddly comforted by someone other than your mom or your friends for once. In your distraction, you don’t see Rafe and the little girl hovering near the freezer window that showcases all the ice cream they offer. When you’re reaching for the shiny black Amex, you hear him again. 

“I got it, kid,” Rafe says, pressing his matching card against the reader and pushing your wrist down and away. He does it so easily, without trying, just like he did in the country club. You look up at him stupidly, brain not registering what he just did and why he did it, and you don’t move for a moment. You don’t move until he leans down a little, close enough to smell that enticing cologne again but not nearly close enough. 

“I think the words you’re looking for are ‘thank you’. And you should probably get out of the way.” You blink back up at him, and he’s smirking again. You feel kind of stupid, the way he’s talking to you, but you also don’t mind as much as you thought you would. The girl behind the counter yells out Next! and that’s when Rafe takes you by the arm, just above where he had bruised you, and moves you away himself.

“You okay, kid?” he asks, and you feel yourself melt like ice cream left in your car for too long. You don’t know if he really means it, or if he really cares, but you do know Rafe Cameron needs to stop talking to you like he likes you, or you’re going to be in trouble.

“Fine, yeah. Thanks, uh, thanks for the ice cream.” You’re still blinking slowly, stupidly, stuck in a daze. You should really get it together around him. It’s a little pathetic if a strong grip and a couple of nice actions gets you acting like this. That’s a problem for another day right now.

“Is she okay, Rafe?” the little girl asks quietly from beside him. 

“No idea, Wheezie. Why don’t you sit and eat your ice cream?” he replies, and she sits down a few tables away, beginning to shovel chocolate ice cream with a tiny wooden spoon.

“Hey,” he says, and you begin to snap out of it. It’s raining outside now. You hear the pitter-patter of the drops on the roof. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, yes. I am. I just had a bad morning. Sorry.” But you don’t know what you’re apologizing for.

“Well, are you gonna talk about it and shit? ‘Cause I don’t know you that well yet but you’re kinda freaking me out right now.”

“I-I…I just-”

“You, you, you just?” he mocks, and then when tears fill your pretty eyes and he sees one slip down your face, his own eyes panic briefly. “Hey, hey, I was just joking, kid-” He pulls out a colorful chair for you, and sits you down next to Wheezie, who is still eating ice cream at an alarming rate. Your ice cream is ready at the counter, and he brings it down next to you, holding his own strawberry cone in his hand. 

“Hold this for me Wheeze,” he says, not really asking, and the little girl shakes her head right away.

“How’m I gonna eat mine then?” 

“Wheezie,” Rafe says, in a voice that you haven’t heard him use before—and then you realize how stupid you sound. You’ve talked with him twice, you don’t know anything about the voices he uses or how he sounds when he’s talking to this girl who can only be his little sister. 

“Can I have some?” Wheezie propositions back, and Rafe nods. “Okay!” she says, taking a bite of the scoop with her front teeth.

“So, y’gonna tell me what’s going on or am I gonna have to guess everything?” 

“My friends, I just keep missing them, or they keep missing me, maybe. I just wanted to see them. It’s really lonely here, that’s all.” You’re staring into his eyes, his really, really blue eyes that are currently a little alarmed and concerned, and the fact that they’re that way for you is making you a little dizzy. 

“Yeah, I get that. Sorry, kid, that’s the lay of the land, right? Not a Pogue anymore, are you?” 

“I don’t know what I am.” You feel silly and embarrassed for pouring your heart out over ice cream with Rafe Cameron. He doesn’t know you, and he never will.

“Well, right now you have a choice. You can sit here and eat ice cream with us, or you can go home and cry about it alone. But if you choose the second one, Richards and Anna will see you, or hear you, and ask about it. And I’m not gonna keep asking if you don’t wanna talk. So pick one before this shi-stuff melts, okay?” 

You nod dumbly again. You’d like to turn your brain off and let Rafe decide for you. 

“I need a spoon.” He smiles, not smirks, for a second, before getting up to get you a spoon.

A few things float through your mind while you eat ice cream with the Camerons. First, Rafe remembers your mom’s name. Second, Rafe doesn’t swear in front of his kid sister. And third, and most important of all, Rafe Cameron cares about you.

“That’s a lot of ice cream,” Wheeze, or rather—as you’ve just learned—Wheezie, comments.

“I was feeling really sad,” you reply, shoving another spoonful into your mouth, watching the little girl eye your peanut and chocolate ice cream inquisitively. “You’ll understand someday.”

“Boy problems?” she asks, and you can’t help but crack a smile. Rafe looks up from his phone momentarily 

“Not really, but a good guess. This would also apply to that situation.”

“My sister’s always got boy problems.”

“Really?” you ask, and then look up Rafe. “You have another sister?”

“Yes,” he says, in between licks of strawberry ice cream. You should really look away when he does that, because your heart rate is picking up. “And she’s even more annoying than this one.”

You laugh while Wheezie frowns.

“If I’m so annoying, why do you always take me for ice cream, huh?”

“She’s got you there, Rafe,” and you resist the urge to look at him, even when you can feel his eyes on you. 

“Because you wouldn’t stop asking, dork, that’s why.” Wheezie shrugs in reply.

“I’m not gonna finish all of this. You want some, Wheezie?” you ask, offering her your spoon. She looks back at you smiling, and then at Rafe for permission, who nods.

She digs into the pile left, while you finally give into the urge to look up at her brother again. He takes another lick of his ice cream and you look away within a second. 

“Been eating that for a while, haven’t you, Rafe?”

“Yeah.” 

Somewhere in between Wheezie eating so much of the ice cream so quickly that she gets a brain freeze, and Rafe finally tossing his half-eaten cone into the trash, it’s time to go home. And as much as you hate to admit it, you don’t want to leave. The rain is coming down hard outside, a preview of the impending hurricane.

“Drive here, kid?” he asks, as your feet hesitate by the door. 

“No,” Wheezie answers, “I came here with you, dork.”

“Not talking to you, kid,” he replies, rustling the top of her hair with his hand, getting an ugh, Rafe, in response.

“Yeah. Yes, I drove here. But my car doesn’t do so good in the rain.”

“Huh?” he questions.

“It’s old, okay. Junky. The AC is broken. And the radio. Sometimes she just stops, y’know?” You gesture to your blue car parked out front, the rusty, tiny sedan two spots down from his shiny truck.

“No, I don’t know. Richards lets you drive around in that thing?”

“She.”

“It’s a car. Barely, at that.”

“She has a name, okay. HoHo. That’s her name.”

“Alright, well, you’re gonna have to ditch the hoe, because I can’t let you drive home in a hurricane in… that.” You turn to glare at him. “Her, sorry.”

That’s how you end up soaking wet in the passenger seat of Rafe’s truck, Wheezie secured in her booster seat and Rafe even wetter than you are. He drops you home and says the two of you can go pick up your car tomorrow—if it’s still there, he adds at the end, leaning over you again to open your door. You stare at him dumbly again, which has now become a bad habit, and it’s not until Wheezie says you’re getting her wet in the back that you finally climb out and close the door. You stand behind the front door with your mom’s melted ice cream in one hand, and your phone with Rafe’s contact saved in the other, wondering what exactly just happened. 

౨ৎ

The next few weeks pass through as quickly as they came. Your car—to your chagrin and your mother’s joy—does not survive the hurricane. Blake gives you a fancy, luxury car to drive around in that he just had laying around, which you don’t believe for one second. But, your mom is pleased when you actually start driving it, and you can actually listen to music from your phone and enjoy air conditioning and the most luxurious of luxuries—a backup camera. 

The night of the ice cream shop incident, Rafe texts you. You were completely ready to wallow in bed, waiting for the text from him that never comes, drowning your sorrow in more ice cream, but he does text you. First and right away. 

R: Is it wrong if I hope hoho drowns tonight?

that’s so mean. she never did anything to you.

R: She’s kinda ugly. And what was that about no ac?

so she deserves death????

R: The impound lot at the very least

if she dies, it’ll be because YOU manifested it

R: Never thought I’d believe in that manifesting shit, but here we are

did Wheezie eat dinner after how much ice cream you let her inhale?

R: No.

R: Ur fault. You gave her yours

you gave her yours too

and btw, I offered her a bite. she ate the rest. not my fault

R: She’s five, genius

R: I’ll come around noon tomorrow. Sleep tight kid

౨ৎ

Somewhere in between picking up your car—which entailed no less than stopping for lunch, even more ice cream that you can’t stand to watch him eat, and driving through town to see how bad the damage from hurricane Agatha was, and altogether three hours together ending with a wet, heated kiss in his truck with the windows fogged up—and today, you’ve been with Rafe more times than you can count. 

And you try hard to suppress the thought that it’s just because he’s available, that the availability is the reason for your attraction. And then you catch yourself trying to justify why you want to see Rafe so much, this guy that you had just been assuming was bad because your friends told you he was bad, without much in the way of an explanation. 

But Rafe is the furthest thing from bad. He’s so sweet to you it makes you delirious. He picks you up all the time, even when you tell him you’re just at home, and your car is right there. He pays for everything, he opens every door, the gentle but teasing way he is with Wheezie makes you even more head over heels.

But most important of all, he calls you first. He texts you first. He makes you feel wanted, and you definitely, definitely, want him, so you don’t think twice before saying yes to accompanying him to Midsummers. 

You actually don’t know what it really is, besides for a big party. It was always one of the worst nights at the hospital—litters of teens with alcohol poisoning and from car accidents— so your mom would be working. When you turned eighteen, your mom paid for classes to become a junior nurse, and so busy nights like the one of Midsummers usually was, you would get called in too. So before this week, you’d never spent Midsummers doing anything other than cleaning wounds and fetching suture kits.

You tell Rafe this and he looks at you strangely, another of his looks you hadn’t seen before, with furrowed brows, and you flush and apologize, regretting even opening your mouth. 

You know you’re deeper than you thought when he takes your head between his hands and kisses you—messy, with tongue and spit left glimmering over your mouth, so much so that he wipes the corner of your mouth with his thumb when he’s done. 

“Go get yourself a pretty dress, and we’ll have fun, yeah?” You nod stupidly again, the way you’re prone to doing around him. He must have realized you get a kick out being told what to do by him, what to worry about and what to focus on. 

You finally take your mom up on the offer to go shopping. Her and your step-dad are going to this thing anyways, but you can tell she wasn’t completely sure you’d go to something so Kook-y, maybe not just yet, and she doesn’t want to push it since your mood finally seems to have picked up. But then you tell her Rafe asked you to go with him, and the two of you smile and jump around the living room, laughing like kids. She’s happy for you and you’re happy that the two of you are happy at the same time.

Rafe sends you money for a dress—enough money to pay for a month’s rent at your old place. Your mom says your step-dad insists on paying. You feel like things are coming together for the first time.

You wander the stores, trying on different dresses and feeling like a scene out of a movie until you finally find the perfect blue dress. Blue for Rafe’s eyes and his suit jacket, because you’re not embarrassed to admit to him that you want to match for Midsummers. It’s patterned with little flowers, ruffles and lace moving in the wind when you twirl, and for once, you stop feeling like you need to pick a side to be on—Pogue or Kook—and you decide just to be Rafe’s for now.

The night of the party, Rafe offers to pick you up, but you tell him you’ll come with your parents. They’re both wearing shades of peach and salmon, the three of you together look like you’re headed to a baby shower, which you and your mom laugh about in the car ride there. 

You text Rafe to let him know you’re there, and tell your parents you’re going to walk around to find him. When you glance back, they’re talking with some of Blake’s friends, people he had invited to the wedding.

You see, what you can only think, is a glimpse of Pope, in his usual waiter get up, but he disappears before you can see where he was. His father is still there, though, and you make your way through the crowd to get near him.

“Hi, Mr. Heyward,” you say, smiling and unsure if he’ll recognize you. You don’t think he’s ever seen you in anything but your overalls or scrubs. 

“How can I help yo-wait, is that you, well I’ll be damned. You’re blending right in, aren’t ya?”

“Well, it took long enough.” You suddenly feel embarrassed, because he knows the old you, the one who wouldn’t be here in a million years. “Do you know where Pope is? I thought I saw him, I just wanted to say hi.”

“He just went off that way, but if you see him, tell him I still need his help over here, just like I did before he walked away—”

“Can I help with anything?” you ask quickly, but he shakes his head and tells you the direction Pope went in.

You follow it generally, trying to see where he could have gone in such a short time. But then you see all of them, and you can’t stop your feet from running over. Kie, JJ, and Pope, all standing and talking about something, but you don’t really care about interrupting. Kie’s all dressed up too, and you suddenly don’t feel so embarrassed.

“You guys,” you feel yourself gushing. “It’s been so long,” and you go in for a hug with each of them. 

“Wow, god, you look so pretty,” Kie says, and you hug her again. You don’t realize how much you missed her. 

“You too, Kie,” your smile is so wide it starts to hurt. “Isn’t this so weird, all of us here at this party? Where’s John B?” you ask, looking around. 

“So weird,” JJ says, and you notice the bruise around his right eye because he’s turning to look at Kie again. 

“JJ, what the hell happened to your face?” JJ doesn’t answer, he actually doesn’t say anything at all, which should have been your first sign that something was wrong. You look at him quizzically, before turning to Pope.

“Pope, your dad’s looking for you, I just went over to say hi-”

“Oh crap,” he says, heading back in the direction you just came from. “Sorry, be right back.”

“W-what the hell is going on?” you question Kie and JJ, searching for any answer, desperately hoping that it isn’t we don’t wanna tell you. Your phone goes off, twice, and you pick it up. The look on your face must have been beyond palpable to your friends.

R🧸ྀི: Come inside the house

R🧸ྀི: Got a surprise for you

“I-I gotta go inside,” you say, looking at the confused faces of your friends.

“What’s inside? I thought-”

“No, nothing, I don’t know, Rafe just asked me to go inside, and I haven’t even seen him yet-”

“Rafe? What, Rafe Cameron?”

“Y-yeah?”

“What are you, with him, or something?” JJ asks, and you feel your heart fall into your stomach.

“I-I yeah, maybe. I’m here with him tonight, he-” Your phone goes off again. “I’m sorry, I have to go find him, but I’ll come find you guys right after, okay?”

You leave the two of them there, looking at each other confused, looking at you like they don’t recognize you. And it stings, for a moment, until you get inside the mansion and find Rafe hanging out by the entrance, nursing a glass of scotch and eyes lighting up when they see you. 

Everything with him is like that scene from that movie. Lights go dim, you walk in slow-motion, the room goes quiet. He watches you walk up to him and his eyes take in everything—your pretty hair, your dolled up face, the way your dress moves when you walk, and most of all, that you’re here with him. He reaches his hand out to grab you by the waist to bring you in for a kiss. It’s not like the others, it’s chaste and soft and romantic. 

“Hi,” you breathe out, resting your forehead against his.

“Hi, kid. You look fantastic,” and he presses another sweet kiss to your temple. 

“We’re matching,” you say with a smile, taking in his blue suit jacket and the way you feel dizzy right now, and you feel his grip tighten around your waist. 

“Yeah, we are. Now get in line with me, we’re walking out together.” Your eyes are big like coins, because you understood that you were coming here together, but this is his family’s big night, if everything your mom and Blake told you was to be taken seriously.

You don’t have time to say anything, because Rafe’s nice parents line up ahead of you, and his two sisters behind you. Wheezie tugs on your dress and you turn to greet her and Sarah quickly, because then the doors open and you’re walking out, following Rafe’s lead, lots and lots of eyes on you, but only one pair of blue ones you really care about. 

You almost want to cry, the whole thing is so magical. You have a flute of champagne and a sip of Rafe’s scotch, and you are deliciously tipsy for the next two hours. Your parents come over to talk to you and Rafe, and you can see how happy your mom is in her eyes. You and Rafe dance until your feet hurt, and it’s only then, when he leaves your sight, that things seem to get back down to how they normally are. 

You can’t find Wheezie’s parents or Sarah anywhere. The little girl spilled ice cream on her dress and is crying quietly, fat tears rolling down her chubby cheeks. You want to get her parents, because you think they can help, but you end up taking her to the bathroom yourself. With a damp paper towel, you wipe as much as you can, and you promise to get her another ice cream if she stops crying.

“It’s just a stain, honey, don’t worry.” You toss the dirty tissue and grab another one, wiping the tears and then letting her blow her nose. “It’ll come out when you wash it. And no one will notice because it’s so dark now, right?” She nods in agreement. “Do you wanna go find your big brother?” Another sad nod. “Let’s go honey,” and you take her hand and lead her back out. 

You’re not entirely sure what you missed in the last fifteen minutes. Everyone’s gone quiet, staring at what you hope is a trick of your eyes—all of your friends running from the party, hooting and hollering. Kiara’s parents look hopelessly upset, Mr. Heyward downright disappointed, and your mom scanning the crowd, trying to see where you are, until she spots you and Wheezie.

Her and Mrs. Cameron come running over, and you instinctively flinch, thinking the giant headpiece she’s wearing will poke you. You hand off Wheezie and turn to look at your friends, and you think, for a second, they’re waiting for you. They are, you realize slowly, waiting for you.

And you almost take off right then and there, until you feel Rafe’s warm hand on your shoulder, and you look up to see him bleeding.

At that moment, you turn right back around and head inside to the nearest room, sitting Rafe down on the bed and scrambling to find something to clean his wound with, and something cold to help the swelling, and in your panic, you don’t realize you’re rambling.

“I mean, what the hell was all of that? I turn around for two seconds and everyone’s running from the party like there’s a fire, and destroying things and throwing punches, I mean, I get they hate the whole Kook thing, but it was never like this before, even when I didn’t know you yet, and I-” you drop the frozen bag of peas onto the floor in your sudden realization. “I just let them leave. They waited for me. I didn’t go with them.” Your eyes fill with years. That’s a betrayal, not all the stupid stuff you thought was happening before tonight. They waited for you, and you turned right back around to go inside with Rafe.

“Hey, hey hey,” Rafe says quietly, taking your head in his hands again. “Hey, it’s gonna be okay.”

“You’re bleeding, Rafe,” you say, voice trembling. Your tears are ruining your makeup. 

“I’m gonna be fine. You know why?” he asks, and you feel more tears rush down. “Hey, hey, no crying.” Rafe wipes away the tears with his hand, then he brings his hands to your back and rubs soothingly. “You know why, kid?” “Why?” it comes out a whisper.

“Because you chose me. We’re gonna be fine, okay?” 

The way he says it you believe him. 

You spend the next two days at Tannyhill with Rafe, wearing nothing but his t-shirts and doing nothing but rolling around in bed. It’s been a month, maybe a little bit more, and you haven’t even had the talk yet—the sex talk. There’s no doubt in your mind that he’s not ready for it, but you’re not ready for it, not yet. You’re working on it. He doesn’t make it easy for you, either. You’ve spent hours now, making out in his lap, grinding against each other until you make a mess all over his shorts and his hair is sticking up in every direction, and working your way up to telling him what you want. 

You’re almost there. You’re waiting for the perfect time. Which was almost right now.

“You like that? Shit-” he breathes into your ear, pressing a kiss to the tender skin of your neck right underneath. It makes you moan again, louder, until he clamps a hand—the one not three fingers deep inside your leaking pussy—over your mouth, barricading the noise from leaving. “Gotta be quiet, kid, you want the whole house hearin’ what a little slut you are?” 

His blue eyes, lustful and blown, stare into your own. You shake your head softly underneath the tight grip of his palm. You’re always obedient with him, but he really likes you like this. 

“Yeah? You gonna do whatever daddy tells you? Just so I keep my fingers in this tight pussy?” You nod compliantly, head falling back on to the pillow. His fingers are thick, and the cool of his ring rubs against your clit in the best way, in ways you didn’t even realize it could feel.

He keeps fucking three fingers in and out of you, moans muffled by his hand but not completely silenced. You must be making a mess, because it’s what he keeps talking about, rambling about your messy cunt, greedy and sucking him in, and how you’ve been cumming for him like a little princess for the last two days, but it’s never enough for you. 

It’s when he removes his hand and kisses you hard instead, tongue deep inside you mouth, the metal of his chain dangling on your chin, and you feel the similarly cool metal of his ring on you, you finish again, exploding around your boyfriend’s fingers and moaning into his mouth. He hears you, repeating his name over and over again, not Rafe, but rather daddy, and he swallows your chants into his mouth. When you calm down, he makes a show of licking his fingers off while locking eyes, and then you get flustered and bury your head into his neck. 

He laughs, because it’s so cute, but only for a minute. Then you two shower together and he makes another show, but this time out of you, kneeling on the floor of his tub while he paints your face with his cum, making sure to cover the necklace you’ve been wearing recently too, the silver, loopy little R hanging between your collarbone. 

Then you get dressed—a little pink dress that’s been his favorite recently, with buttons down the front and a pretty bow where your tits sit— and the two of you have lunch with his family like nothing ever happened.

Rafe drops you back at home later that day, gives you a kiss where he grabs the back of your head to bring you in, and then waves bye to your parents as he unlatches the door for you, in his usual way. 

౨ৎ

A week later, he does the same thing. Drops you off, drives away once you’re inside, and you’re starstruck walking back, so much so, you don’t realize there’s someone waiting for you.

It’s Kie, and Rafe’s sister, Sarah. You’re a little confused since you thought the two of them didn’t get

along,  but they look like they’re fine now.

“Hey, listen, we need you to help us. Can you come down to the Chateau later tonight, after sunset?” Kie asks, and you must look as confused as you feel, because Sarah speaks right away, before you can get a word out.

“You cannot tell my brother. Promise us you won’t.”

“Why are you asking me that? Why can’t I tell him?” Sarah and Kie exchange a look, and it’s clear to you that you are missing several pieces of the puzzle. “Guys! Come on, you-you can’t expect me to just be on board with lying to my boyfriend and showing up to help you guys without knowing what it even is, right? What’s going on?”

“We will explain everything, just please promise us that you’ll come,” Kie implores and you nod hesitantly. 

“And you won’t tell Rafe?” Sarah asks again.

“Come on. Pogues for life, right?” Kie says, and you get a flashback to your life two months

ago—doing anything for your friends and dreaming of how you’d end up with one of the boys someday. It all seems like a million years ago.

“Yes, yeah, yeah, I’ll be there. I won’t tell him.”

You guess that God was on your side today. 

R🧸ྀི: Hey kid. Busy with my dad today. Dinner tomorrow okay?

sounds perfect!! don’t work too hard! i'm gonna watch a movie with my mom and blake and stay in tn

R🧸ྀི: You got mail again?

you know me so well

R🧸ྀི: Have fun princess.

You set down your phone on your dresser, feeling like you could throw up your dinner. It’s just starting to get dark outside, and you’ve just lied to Rafe for the first time since you’ve met him. It feels terrible, like something’s gnawing inside you, begging you to come clean and confess, or not to go out at all. You think about it for a moment, maybe if he knows you’re with some of your old friends, it won’t be like a real lie.

Then you remember your old friends are the ones who punched him. You tell your mom you’re going to Rafe’s, and then you get in your fancy car that Rafe helped you christen the other day—in the backseat, specifically—and drive to your old life.

You park next to the Twinkie and get out, stepping into a slush of mud. Your shoes are new, and were clean, and you cringe internally at how much you started caring about these things. You don’t want Rafe to see you with dirty shoes.

The boys and Kie are sitting on the logs near the fire pit. Sarah is sitting right next to John B, looking at him how you look at Rafe, and then you realize the magnitude of just how much you’ve missed.

“Hey,” Kie says, looking up first, smiling. “You came.”

“Yeah.” You’re at a loss for words. Everyone looks the same. Everything feels so different.

A part of you wants to sink down between Pope and JJ, crack a beer, and laugh at jokes you think you would still understand. Another part wants to get into the fancy car and drive to Tannyhill. You opt for neither, standing a few yards away and letting the light from the fire cast its hazy glow over you and all your old friends.

“Did you tell him?” Sarah asks. She means it well, not in a rude way, but that’s how you feel. 

“No, no, I didn’t. He, he thinks I’m at home. With my mom and Blake.”

“Alright,” JJ says, tossing his empty beer can. “Let’s get this show on the road.”

“Listen,” John B says, getting up and sounding too sincere for your liking. “We all appreciate you coming. Because we need a favor from you, and it might not be easy.”

“I mean, I think it’s gonna be pretty easy. Unless Rafe is like, really, really crazy, like even crazier than we already know he is-” JJ says, but stops when Kie and Pope shake their heads. “What? She knows, she’s the one dating him.”

“Know what? I don’t even know what you want from me-”

“We need a distraction. For Rafe, okay?” John B starts.

“An hour, okay, that’s all we need, right guys?” Sarah asks, looking back at everyone. They nod, trying to convince you, except Jayj.

“Well, like, maybe a couple of hours. If he’s up to that, y’know, I don’t wanna assume shit ‘bout stamina and all that-”

“JJ,” Pope says, shoving the blond’s arm. “You’re not helping.”

“What?” you breathe out, even more confused than before. You start to get what they’re asking, you just don’t want to admit it.

“We need to distract Rafe, for an hour, or like two hours, and we figured you’re our best bet.” John B says, and you look at them with your mouth falling open a little.

“You want me to…sleep with my boyfriend, to distract him, so you guys can do something that you won’t tell me about?”

“Kind of, yeah. Pretty much.”

“And is, is this thing going to hurt him in the long run? Is he going to be upset? When he finds out what happened?”

“My Kook feelings radar is a little off, right now, but who knows, I mean hell, he might not ever find out,” JJ says, and you want to sit down, because your knees feel weak, but the ground is muddy and the logs are occupied. “If we do our job right, he won’t know for a long, long time, right guys?” A chorus of right, right rings around the fire. 

“And you’re not gonna tell me what this is about at all?” 

“Well, it might not be a good idea. Because, you’re dating him, and listen, we just need like an hour, and he never has to know you were a part of this, okay? I will never tell him, none of us will,” Sarah says, and you do believe her. But you can’t believe that they’re asking you to do this.

“And if he finds out, and he breaks up with me, then what?” 

“Yeah, I, uh, knew this was a bad idea. She’s not gonna do it, guys, so let’s just reformulate-”

“Oh, you knew I was gonna say no, JJ? Lying to my boyfriend? For the people who hurt him?”

“He hurt us too, y’know,” Pope says, and you feel your heart begin to race. 

“No, I don’t know, because no one tells me anything! No one answers their phone and no one’s here when I drive down. Kie, you live two streets away from me now. The first time I saw you all month was at Midsummers and then, today. Asking me to come here to lie to Rafe, to sleep with him to distract him.”

“No, no, we shouldn’t have asked you, because I knew you would say no, I told them-” and you can’t believe the words coming from your friend's mouth. “Look at you, you went total Kook on us.” 

And then you feel like they’re taking it all in. The R around your neck, the jewelry that sparkles in the light of the fire, all yellow citrine, for Rafe’s birth month. The pink dress that’s his favorite—you put it on this morning in case you ended up back at Tannyhill tonight. And worst of all, his white button up hanging from your shoulders, smelling like ocean and sandalwood and Rafe Cameron. 

“It’s like you belong to him now.” You feel a tear sliding down, but you wipe it away. 

“Maybe that’s because he was actually there for me, when I needed it. And I get it, maybe I should have tried harder. But you guys should have too.”

The group of you stand there in silence for a moment. Your phone goes off. You know it’s Rafe. They know it is too. It starts with Kie, and then a course of apologies from everyone. John B wipes away your tears like nothing has changed. JJ scratches his head, and then hugs you tighter than he ever has before. Pope tells you how much he’s missed you, how he had to start bandaging wounds in your absence. 

“I’ll distract him. An hour, that’s all you get. I’m not sleeping with him because you guys want me to, okay? So if he leaves, he leaves.” 

You take off for Tannyhill, leaving your old life behind and risking your new one all at once.

౨ৎ

Rafe’s phone goes off again, and he lets out a short, tight breath. 

Princess: are you still busy at home? i need you

Princess: please rafey

“I’ll be back,” he tells Ward, and before he can even respond, he’s out of the room, calling you. The line rings twice, and then you answer.

“Rafey?” you sound quiet, like you’ve been crying.

“Hey, hey kid. What’s going on? I told you I was working tonight,” and then he runs a hand through his hair, because he knows he’s fucked, if you’re crying and you need him, then he’s going.

“I know, Rafe, I just really need you, I had a really bad night-” “Woah, wait, I thought you were just with your parents?”

“I was, it just got really bad, I-I’m outside Tannyhill because I had to leave, and then I got lost and I was scared so I just came straight here.”

“Lost? Jeez, kid, it’s, like, down the street.”

“But I didn’t wanna bother you, ‘cause you were busy-” and then he hears a hiccup, and then a sob.

“Okay, okay, stay there, I’m gonna come get you,” and he hangs up the call. He darts outside, spotting your navy car and you inside, still in the same clothes from this morning, just wearing his shirt over it, like a jacket. He gets close and you climb out of the car yourself, jumping into his arms and burying your face into his neck, like you always do when you get like this. He can feel the way your body shakes under his arms, the wetness of your tears on his black polo.

“Okay, it’s okay now, come on, let’s go inside.” You make it up the stairs to his bedroom, when Rafe guides you inside and pulls his blinds, so no one peeks inside. 

He sits you up on the edge of his bed, squatting before you, hands in yours, arms resting on your knees. 

“You gonna tell me what happened?” You shake your head, another tear falling. You wish you could say you were pretending, but the tears find their own way when you think about the encounter you just had. You’re lying when you tell him it’s between you and your parents, but his reaction makes you regret it instantly. “Did they say somethin’ to you? Did they try something? I’ll go over there and sort it all out, okay, kid, don’t worry about a thing.” He stands up, running another hand through his messy hair, letting it fall in the moppy way it always does, over his forehead. “Stay here, okay, princess, I’ll be back.”

Then you realize he’s gonna go over there and talk to your perfectly happy, clueless parents, so you stand up and turn him back around.

“No, no, Rafe, don’t leave,” and then you melt into a hug, taking in everything about it. Rafe rests his chin on the top of your head, his arms tight around your back. He smells so good, and the way he’s taking care of you makes you realize a couple things. “Will you just…make me forget?”

Your boyfriend looks down at you, and you don’t shy away from his gaze like you often, when you get flustered. 

“Make you forget?” he questions. 

“I just don’t wanna think about anything else,” you start, undoing the bow of your dress, more cleavage revealing itself. “I just wanna think about you,” and then your fingers undo the buttons trailing down the front of your dress. It falls off your shoulders, and you stand before him, naked, certainly not for the first time but what feels like the most intimate it’s ever been. 

There’s a pretty lingerie set hidden in the back of your closet, what you had actually put aside for this moment, but you had no time to run home and get it, so you opted for the next best thing, taking your bra and panties off in the car ride here, shoving them into your purse, and hoping that Rafe was as tempted as you were.

“Just about me?” he questions, and you take his hand into yours, leaning in to press a soft kiss against his lips.

“Just you, Rafe. I’m ready, Rafey, I want you to fuck me,” and it seems like that’s all it takes. Rafe crushes his lips against yours, kissing you how he always does, tongue in your mouth and spit everywhere. He holds you by the back of your head and your hands run through his hair. You want him closer, even closer than he already is, than he possibly could be.

His hands leave your head and go down to your ass, grabbing both cheeks roughly and wrapping your legs around his waist. He drops you on his bed, head hitting the pillow, and you pull away for a second, to catch your breath. Rafe doesn’t let it happen, gripping your cheeks between his hand and bringing you back in for another kiss. You’re naked, and he’s still completely dressed, but you don’t miss the obvious way his hardened dick presses against your bare cunt.

You can’t breathe, and all your senses are overpowered by Rafe, but you also don’t really care. You keep kissing, moaning into each other’s mouths and gripping hair and skin that’s sure to leave a bruise tomorrow, until you feel him finally pull away for a second. You catch your breath, open-mouthed and heaving, eyes locked.

“‘M only gonna ask this once, kid,” he breathes, leaving another hot kiss on your neck, which makes you spread your legs further open with instinct. “Y’sure you want this? ‘Cause there’s no going back.”

You nod in that way you always have with him, telling him everything with no words at all. 

“That’s my girl,” he breathes against your neck, and you feel him bite down into the soft skin of the flesh there. You yell out, but it turns into a moan when Rafe licks his tongue over the wound. “That’s just so you can remember this night, okay baby?” You look back up at him, wet eyes, swollen lips, and flushed, sweaty skin. 

“Thank you, daddy.” He smiles, because you’re in for it now.

“You’re welcome, kid. Shit,” he breathes out, “I knew you’d like it, little freak.” He starts with more hot kisses, all the way down your neck, down your sternum, and stopping to press a kiss to each side of your ribs, before continuing down to your stomach. You whine from your position below him, one huge hand holding your hip in place and the other tracing the pattern of the kisses down, until he finally reaches where you want him to be.

“Gotta be quiet, kid, everyone’s home. You gonna let them all hear how much of a whore you are for me? Huh?” he mocks, and you shake your head fervently. “Good girl. You’re being so good, you’re gonna get a treat, okay?” You nod stupidly.

His breath catches for a second, when he gets down to your glistening cunt. He looks up at you from his position there, your chest heaving, tits bouncing with how much you’re squirming, how much you want him to do something. He moves his hands, one resting on your breast, pinching the nipple with his finger, and the other running a line down your pussy. Your whole body twitches up when he runs the metal of his ring over your clit, because he knows you really like it. 

“Rafe, please,” you cry, sounding stupid and fucked out, even though he hasn’t started yet. “Please, please,” and your hips jerk up. He pushes them down. 

“Be patient, kid. Gotta admire this virgin pussy for the last time before I ruin it, ‘kay?” You feel your walls tighten at his words, and you hope he missed the way everything just clenched, but it’s Rafe, and he didn’t miss a thing. “Like that, huh? You like being my little slut?”

You shake your head, trying to deny it, but the damage is done.

Rafe dives in, and you let out a moan that you didn’t realize you were capable of producing. You clamp your own hand over your mouth, because you know he’ll stop if you get too loud. His tongue licks you up and down, and true to what you had always thought, he does know what he’s doing.

The hand pinching your nipples doesn’t relent, and the weight of his arm holds you down when you buck up as he pushes two fingers inside you, scissoring them to stretch your walls out. It hurts, in the best way, and before you know it, he’s added a third.

His mouth stays focused on your clit, and your legs tremble, even though it’s barely been a few minutes. It’s all of it, all at once. Being naked in Rafe’s bed, his hand groping your tits, the way he holds you down without trying, the smell of his cologne and his skin and his sweat, making you lightheaded.

His fingers push in and out, and when he hits that sweet spot inside you, the one your own fingers have never been able to reach but somehow, Rafe’s have become well acquainted with, you can’t help the noises you make.

You repeat his name over and over again, and you think you’ve felt the height of this pleasure, that nothing could surpass this feeling, until your stomach tightens in an entirely new way. Your fucked out brain gets it together for a minute, to feel the overwhelming, ecstatic pressure of Rafe’s tongue on your clit, spelling out his own name. Your stomach tightens, unbearably so, that coil winding up, but before he even finishes the F, it snaps all at once. 

You let out a scream—which you think is so stupid of you. But it feels so good, there was no way around it. Rafe reacts instantly, grabbing your hand that’s pulling his hair and using it to snap over your mouth, all while he rides you through it. 

His nose presses against your clit while he slides his fingers out, your pussy walls clamping around nothing, missing him already. He laps up the mess you just made with his tongue, the noise being so overwhelming, you want to scream again. 

You use your other hand to yank his hair, pulling him up to look at you, because you know you want to see this. Rafe, your Rafe, your boyfriend, with blown, wide eyes and the entire lower half of his face glistening with your juices, with the mess you just made, and then you collapse back down onto the bed. 

Your breathing is heavy. You aren’t sure it’ll ever go back to normal.

Rafe pulls his shirt off by grabbing it from the back, yanking it over his head. Your hand floats up to

touch his chest, to make sure he’s still real and not just a vivid sex dream, but he slaps it out of the way.

“What did I say, hm?” he asks, leaning over you. His face is just an inch too far to kiss. Your limbs feel numb, and you can’t pull him down yourself. You want to cry, because you want to kiss him so badly. “I said you had to be quiet, or everyone’s gonna know what a little whore you are.”

“I tried, daddy, I did-”

“I don’t think you tried at all, kid.”

“No, I did, I swear-”

“You’re lucky that I-” and before he finishes his sentence, you pull him down into another kiss. He tastes like you and scotch, and the combination is so intoxicating, you can’t pull away. “Hey, hey,” he breathes. “I’m not going anywhere, okay?” and the soothing way he says it, you believe him.

“I’m lucky that you what?” you ask, unbuckling his belt and snaking it off the loops.

“That I love you, and I’m not gonna punish you tonight for not listening to me.” You drop the belt over your stomach, the melt part hitting with a little clink. You look back up at him, your eyes wide, you imagine, your cheeks flushed. 

“You love me?” you ask, quietly. You can barely hear yourself over the thud of your heart pounding in your chest.

“I do,” Rafe replies, running his hand to smooth over your hair, which you’re sure is a mess now. “Enough that I’m gonna fuck you now, but I had to say it first, because I’m gonna fuck you until you break.”

You’re speechless, watching Rafe unbutton his pants and kick them off, boxers going with them. He strokes himself once, twice, and you’re still staring up at his face, even though normally you would get distracted. 

He looks up again. 

“You ready, kid?” 

“I love you, Rafey,” you say, twisting your hands around to the back of his neck, pushing him into yet another kiss. You can’t pull away, even if you want to, you want him so close that you forget everything else in the world for now. While you’re kissing, he lines himself up with your leaking pussy, which has probably ruined these sheets, and pushes in the tip.

You pull back from the kiss, just to moan, but Rafe silences you with his mouth again. He pushes in more, and more, until you’re sure he’s bottomed out. Your cunt is so, so stretched, you can’t fathom this is what you’ve been missing out on, and it feels so good, like nothing has ever felt before, not his fingers, not his tongue, not any other part of him. 

“That’s halfway, kid, you doin’ okay?” and your eyes jolt up to his in a second.

“H-half?” you breathe out. “I can’t, I can’t take any more, s’not gonna fit Rafe, not gonna fit-”

“Hey,” he repeats, which always has that calming effect on you. “You let me worry about that, okay? Just relax this pussy f’me, okay?” and the way he says it, you do, because you have no other choice. He pushes in again, fast, hard, and then pulls all the way out. You’re too scared to look anywhere but his eyes, so you stay locked in on them, until he pushes all the way in again, and your eyes clasp shut.

“Oh, oh my god, Rafe-” And you don’t care who hears you this time. He pulls out again, just his lip still inside you.

“Look, princess, look down,” he urges, and you follow his instructions, because you always do. “Look where we’re connected, yeah?” He fucks in and out of you, slowly but then faster, and you do look, entranced at the way your pussy sucks him in, the way your cum is coating his dick, at the brutal pace he’s set. 

You look until you can’t anymore, leaning back against the pillow and watching Rafe above you, his face twisted in pleasure, eyebrows furrowed, mouth panting. He buries his face into your neck, and you grip the top of his shoulders, nails digging in, because you just need to hold onto something.

He told the truth, you think, in your fucked out, blissful state, that he was going to fuck you like he hated you, battering into your sore pussy over and over again. 

You repeat his name—daddy, not Rafe—until he shuts you up with a kiss, and he watches the strings of spit connecting your mouths when he pulls away.

“Just needed this dick, didn’ya princess? Just needed daddy to think for ya?” You moan in reply. “You got it then, kid, because m’never gonna stop fucking you. Y’never gonna think about anything else again.”

And then he finally does you in, because he presses down, right below your stomach, while he slams in, and you feel something inside you break, like a flood breaking through a dam. It washes out to every part of you, from your ears to your fingers to your toes. White hot pleasure runs its course through your body, cunt tightening and shaking, eyes rolling back, your spine arching forward. Through all of it, Rafe pins you down, and fucks you through it. And finally, deliriously, you open your fucked-out eyes, looking up at him.

“I love you, daddy,” and he cums before he can even pull out, messy rivulets shooting inside you, leaking out onto his expensive sheets. He moans into your neck, and his entire body slumps forward, and you giggle under the weight.

A few minutes pass by.

“Rafey, you’re gonna crush me,” you say quietly, sing-songy. You’re so happy, you’ve forgotten everything else that’s happened.

Rafe presses a kiss to your forehead and rolls off, slumping next to you. Your head lands on his chest not a second later, his arm around your shoulder and another kiss to your hair.

“Feel better, kid?” 

“So much better, Rafey.” 

You don’t know when you fall asleep, only that you woke up to the sound of your phone going on. You pick it up, trying to turn down the light so Rafe doesn’t wake up too. There’s one message.

JJ: I thought you said you weren’t gonna sleep with him?

౨ৎ

[moutainrusing]

wildfire

492 words, @wolfstarmicrofic

“I am officially a wildfire,” Sirius declared, flopping backward onto his mattress.

“Sorry?” James squinted at him in confusion.

Sirius sighed, “Y’know how wildfires are caused by long periods of dry weather?”

“Yeah…?”

“Well, I myself have been experiencing a dry spell.”

“Like, you cast a bad drying charm on yourself?”

“No, Prongs,” Sirius rolled his eyes. “I mean, I haven’t shagged in quite a bit, and now I’m kinda… sexually frustrated. Like a wildfire.”

“Ohhh, so shag someone. Problem solved.”

“Y’know, there’s a reason I haven’t shagged in a while. I just don’t want to.”

James frowned, “But now you’re sexually frustrated, so clearly you do.”

Sirius waved a dismissive hand at him, “No, I…” He tried to gesticulate with his hands; explain that he no longer found anyone attractive, because for some reason, he was fixated on one person, one specific person, whom he couldn’t shag even if he wanted to. He tried to explain how that person’s smile outshone everyone else’s until it was the only thing he could see, the only thing he wanted to see. All he wanted was to make that person smile, not shag a bunch of pathetic losers who paled in comparison.

James’s eyes widened to the same shape of the ‘o’ his mouth had formed. “You’re in love with Moony.”

“What— When did I— How did you— What?!”

James threw his hands up, “You literally just told me.” He proceeded to demonstrate with his hands, in a similar fashion to Sirius, imitating his voice in a high-pitched squeal, “This is how tall Moony is and oh Merlin, isn’t he just so bloody hot up there, I want him to lift me by my collar and snog me.”

While Sirius gaped at him, James gestured to his eyes and teased, “If Moony’s eyes were the last things I saw, I’d die happy,” then James mimed opening a book and wheezed, “I want Moony to open me up like he opens his books— Pads, why did you have to tell me that?!”

Sirius grinned. “Well, I’m sorry, I guess the truth hurts.”

“Bloody. Hell. Just shag Moony then!”

“I can’t!”

“Look, this can go two ways. You confess, he reciprocates, and he can shag your dry spell away. Or you confess, he rejects you, and you’re free to shag someone else!”

“But I don’t want him to reject me!”

“He won’t.”

Sirius gave him a flat look.

James sighed, “And if he does, it’ll be easier for you to move on. So confess.”

“Okay.”

“I don’t see you going to confess.”

“I’m going, I’m going,” Sirius raised his hands and backed out of their dormitory, down the stairs to the common room.

“Moony,” he said to Remus’s back. “I’m… a wildfire.”

“FIRE?! WHERE?!” Instinctively, Remus leapt up and spun around, casting a jet of water out of his wand, drenching Sirius.

Then he hastily began apologising, while Sirius laughed, “Wow. I really do love you.”

[enkas-illusion]

The Worst Kept Secret

Fandom / Pairing: Jujutsu Kaisen / Toji Fushiguro x f!reader

Rating: NSFW/Explicit - MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Genre/Theme: Co-workers to lovers; non-sorcery au

Content warning: fluff but not too much, smut, oral (f & m receiving), piv sex, dom!Toji, sub!reader, overstimulation, unprotected sex, explicit sexual content, language, Toji has a filthy mouth.

Summary: Your colleague Toji only has eyes for you, despite having a reputation of sorts. Porn with a plot… or more like a build up.

Author's Note: Co-worker Toji is instantly attractive cause a) he’s not a bum and b) he’s Toji-fucking-Fushiguro – that’s all in my defence, your honour! This shit is nasty… no, I won’t explain myself (I'm pretty sure i was possessed while writing this). 

Anyway, I hope you enjoy this one shot, please write to me and let me know your thoughts. I love reading whenever people have elaborate things to say T.T Thank you for reading! 

-Eren’s Birdie

Song Dedication: Talk by Hozier

“Rat!” you exclaim as you hold your phone up to display the word written boldly on the screen.

“Ummm…. It’s not a rat, it's not a patootie, it’s a ratatouille!” your coworker, Lisa, blurts out excitedly.

You both look at each other, trying your best to control before you burst out laughing. This goes on for about a minute till your bellies hurt and you’re wheezing. You quiet down as you wipe the tears forming in the corner of your eyes. 

“Why don’t I know that one?” your other coworker, Ema, mutters with furrowed eyebrows, confused at what could possibly be so funny about the sentence.

You’re too drunk to realise that sober you would not find it as funny as you do right now. But that’s what happens when you party a little too hard with your coworkers on a work trip and then hang around the hotel bar because nobody wants to go to bed even at 3am.

You look around at the handful of your coworkers, randomly occupying different spots at the bar, all too dazed and into their own conversations to pay attention to the stupid game that the three of you were currently playing – A word game your genius minds had developed, using a random word generator app and use it in a meme-able sentence.

“Oh god… next word. Feminism!” Lisa squeals, snatching your phone from you to generate the word for your turn.

“Fuck… I suddenly can’t think of anything,” you admit and giggle, trying hard to work your brain.

“Seriously…” 

“Wait, Wait… I need a few seconds,” you laugh, trying to save yourself. You look around and your eyes land on your office crush, Toji Fushiguro, sitting at the bar with your boss, Kento Nanami. 

You look back to your group with a determined look in your eyes, ready with your sentence. “I want him to do things to me that feminism wouldn’t agree with,” you giggle like a teenager, “hah! I’m a genius.”

However, your friends have fixated on something else entirely, ignoring your perfect answer, since their eyes follow your line of vision to the bar. “So, what’s the scene?” Ema looks back at you.

“It's your turn, next word–”

“Nah, we’re bored… this is far more interesting,” her eyebrows wiggle, as she scoots closer to you on the sofa. By the looks of it, Lisa has also forgotten about the game in a second. You realise you’ve dug this hole for yourself, yet you don’t mind sharing a drunk confession with your friends.

“Let’s head out for a smoke,” you get up from the sofa. Lisa is quick to grab her purse as both your friends spring up, hurrying to happily follow you out onto the secluded porch outside, ready for gossip.

As you light up your cigarette, Ema looks at you expectantly. Looking at her face makes you snort and you cough out the smoke before speaking, “Have some patience! Besides, there's nothing too juicy about this gossip.”

“Pleaseeee, literally everyone saw the way Toji was glaring at the man who asked you for a dance tonight… not gonna lie, he looked kinda hot when he got mad,” Lisa catches your lie as she fawns over Toji, something that has become a regular thing among the female coworkers at the company. 

“I know right? And I said no to the guy! What was he so pissed about anyway?” you protest.

“It's all because you agreed when the dude was like ‘at least let me buy you a drink sweetie’!” Ema imitates the stranger from the bar from hours ago.

“Hey! Who says no to free drinks?” you defend yourself.

“Okay, fair,” Lisa nods her head before realising, “aye, focus on the matter at hand! Why did you say no to the guy? He was cute.”

“Was he really though?” you retort.

“Yeah, like you’d notice anyone else when Toji's around… Please fuck him, I need some office drama!” Lisa snaps back before taking a long drag from her cigarette. 

“Yea right… I’m serious though,” you ponder between slow drags, “I doubt anything is going to happen between Toji and I.”

“Why not?!” Ema whines and you laugh at how it seems like they’re more desperate about this whole thing than you are.

“Need I remind you I literally just got out of a relationship? This is no time to be having stupid crushes. I need some alone time… besides you know how his reputation is. Sure, he flirts with me and I enjoy it a lot but I don't know,” you explain as if it’s an automated response stored in you.

“So what? Then just fuck him and get it over with. They say the best way to get over someone is to get under someone!” Lisa giggles, “Besidesss, I've heard he’s really good in bed… heard it from a mutual– uhhh, I don't really remember her name.”

“Oh wait, shit I remember that!” Ema squeals, almost dropping the cigarette from her hand in excitement, “But didn’t she also say that he basically ghosted her after? He just fucks around, I guess.”

“Hence the reputation… Men like Toji are the most charming kind. They know exactly what to say to get you to sleep with them but disappear when it comes to commitment,” Lisa ponders, staring into the distance.

“Exactly, everyone says that Toji doesn’t do relationships. And as horny and curious as I might be, I don’t just want us to fuck and leave it at that. It’d be way too awkward to have such a dynamic at the workplace,” you reason and they simply nod. There’s a beat of silence as all three of you smoke quietly.

“Still though… would it be so bad to just give it a shot? Simply see it as a one night stand and get it over with? If he’s that indifferent about it, I doubt it’d be awkward at work,” Lisa presses.

“I know right! I dont get why you’re thinking so much about it. At least the sex would be killer even if nothing else is assured,” Ema advises.

You take another big drag before dropping the bud to the ground and crushing it with your heel, “Hmmm… that’s true, I’ll think about it.”

“Think soon and try to seduce him in the three days we have here!” Lisa squeezes your shoulder encouragingly. 

“Yes! If you don’t want to, please allow me to! He looked so delicious yesterday,” Ema sighs and by the look on her face, you can tell she’s probably recalling memories of a shirtless Toji playing volleyball at the beach from yesterday. 

“Be my guest… but do it tomorrow, you’ve had a lot to drink tonight,” you snort.

“Please, drunk or sober, if there is one hook up I wouldn’t regret, it’d be him… after our boss of course,” Ema confesses.

“Yeah right. Either of us could still have a shot with Kento. Toji only flirts back with you,” Lisa looks at you with narrowed eyes.

You laugh before a sudden chill runs down your spine, and you cuss at the feeling, “Motherfucker– Should’ve gotten a coat. It's getting cold.”

Your coworkers eye each other mischievously before Lisa snickers, “Why don’t you ask loverboy to help you with it instead? That way you’d be warm inside out.”

“Oh yeah, great idea! Let me go back inside to find him–” you cut off when you see a figure walking outside towards your group.

You signal Ema, who has her back turned to the encroaching new presence, to shut up but it's too late as she fake moans, “Exactly… I’m sure he’d love to indulge you, he’d basically been eye-banging you all night, harder Toji, fuck yea–” 

“HEY TOJI! What’s up!” you’re basically shouting at the guy when he’s a few feet away, hoping to cover up and save yourself.

Maybe he senses your embarrassment, or maybe he didn’t hear her (hopefully) but he doesn’t say anything about it. Instead he greets the group and there’s an awfully awkward feeling in the air.

“Ladies,” he speaks coolly as he stands next to you, “Glad I found you here since boss man was looking for you two.” 

“Kento?!” Ema’s ears shoot up at his sentence as she exchanges a grin with Lisa. They rush ahead inside and as you are about to follow them, you feel a hand on your wrist holding you back. You turn to look at him with a confused frown.

“Where do you think you’re going? I was just getting rid of the two of them,” he smirks, making you look at his pillowy lips. 

When he catches you staring, you look down quickly, tugging a strand of your hair behind your ear nervously, “Oh… So, Kento wasn’t really looking for them?”

“Nope.”

“Oh… that’s– they’re gonna be disappointed,” you chuckle lightly as you fidget with your phone’s cover.

“Well, sucks for them, I guess,” he holds two fingers under your chin to make you look up at him, “You look pretty… you usually do, but even more so in that tiny dress.”

Your eyes grow wide at his confession as you feel the heat rush to your cheeks and you mutter a quiet ‘thank you’. You move to the front of the porch as you stare out at the vast night sky, partly to avoid feeling so mushy and partly because you feel the alcohol toying with your nerves. 

Another chill rushes down your spine and you’re pretty sure it makes you shiver visibly. As you mutter a quiet ‘fuck’, you feel him wrap his denim jacket around your shoulders. Your eyes widen at him in surprise.

“What? I’m a gentleman,” he teases, standing closer next to you. You laugh at this, turning to face him as you shake your head.

“Sure… a gentleman with a reputation,” you roll your eyes as you wrap your arms around your torso in an attempt to keep yourself warm. What you don’t realise is that this action further pushes your boobs together, causing Toji’s eyes to wander down briefly before he looks back into your eyes again.

“Aren’t you ever curious to know if I live up to that reputation?” he raises an eyebrow as he leans down closer to your face.

“Hmm, sure… if you were a stranger at a club and not someone who I had to see at work 9 hours a day, 5 days a week,” you roll your eyes at him as you bring up one hand to slowly run a finger down his shoulder to the outline of his bicep.

“Well, we see each other everyday anyway, so why not turn it into something we actively look forward to,” his fingers graze your jawline softly while his eyes shamelessly fixate on the dip of your cleavage, giving him a better view from the way he’s towering over you.

“As tempting as that is… I don’t do one night stands Toji–”

“Who said anything about just one night?” he interrupts and you tilt your head to the side in confusion, “I’m not stupid to approach someone I work with if I was simply looking for a quick fuck.”

“Oh… then please tell me what exactly you’re looking for?” you speak softly but it comes out more arrogantly than you’d like.

“You. I intend to fuck you more than once.” he’s direct yet his calm demeanour never wavers. 

You let out a nervous chuckle, “Look Toji… you’re hot, charming and oddly easy to get along with but I just got out of a relationship, it’s barely been two months–”

“I know… his loss for letting such a sweet thing go. Didn’t he initiate the break up? What a loser,” Toji laughs as his hand cups your face. 

You simply stare at him in bewilderment, you had no idea the news of your breakup had travelled even to the non-gossipers.

“Why me?” you ask, your curiosity getting the best of you.

“For starters, you’re hot. Two, I like it when we hang out outside of work, you put me at ease with your conversations. Three, I haven’t been able to hook up with anyone else for about a month since I found out about your ex… such a pretty girl should be cherished the way she deserves to be,” his fingers slide down to your collarbone, threatening to dip down even lower.

“Hmm… that’s a good enough pitch, so you want us to be fuck buddies? Exclusively?” you play with the collar of his shirt, entertaining the idea.

“Yeah, I’m not one to share,” his other hand comes up to brush his thumb against your bottom lip.

“Nothing serious?” you pout at him with fake disappointment.

“Not until the both of us feel like it,” he dips his thumb inside your mouth while his other hand snaked around your waist. You suck on his thumb as you stare into his eyes and he feels his blood rush straight to his cock.

“I can work with that,” you give him an innocent smile, “But let’s not be too obvious about it, I’d hate for our little arrangement to mess with our work life.”

“Perfect,” he smiles as he cups your jaw, staring at your lips while sliding his tongue over his lips to wet them instinctively.

Just as he’s about to lean down to kiss you, you pull back when you hear distant footsteps approaching. You see your two friends walking back towards you, talking among themselves.

“Hey, we couldn’t find Kento at the bar,” Ema mumbles.

“Really? He must’ve gone back to his room. Maybe ask him about it tomorrow,” Toji speaks innocently and you press your lips together to keep yourself from laughing.

You see Ema eyeing the jacket you’re wearing suspiciously and you suddenly take it off to hand it to Toji.

“Keep it. You’ll get cold again… return it tomorrow morning.” Toji speaks before you have a chance to give it back to him. You nod as you hold it closer to your chest.

“Alright then. Good night ladies,” he smiles politely before walking back inside. When your eyes shift from his diminishing silhouette to your two friends, they’re both staring at you with hopeful eyes.

“Nothing happened!” you exclaim and their faces drop.

“Fine, that’s it! I’m calling dibs, I’m gonna flirt with him,” Ema retorts. You simply chuckle and shrug, diverting your attention to your phone when it vibrates in your hand. You look at the notification and it’s a text from Toji.

Toji (Work):

Room no. 9010

Don’t leave me hanging, pretty

You lock your phone quickly as you look up again to force yourself to focus on the conversation.

“Could you not get the bottle from the cute bartender? We could’ve taken it to the room,” Ema sighs.

“No but I gave him my room number soooo…” Lisa giggles.

“Guys, I’m feeling a bit too drunk and tired to continue so I’m just gonna go to my room and sleep, okay?” you make up an excuse, hoping it seems believable. However, the girls are too drunk to analyse your lies and they simply pout and bid you ‘goodnight’ in a singsong voice, giving you a group hug.

You quickly make your way to the elevator and press the button to the ninth floor. And although you’re wearing his jacket again, you still feel your body shiver. You take a deep breath when you hear a ding, signalling your arrival. You walk out into the long passage quietly, skimming over the numbers till you spot his room, your heart feeling like it's about to fall out of your chest due to the thrill.

You knock on the door twice and fix your hair nervously. When no one answers, you unlock your phone to call him. You almost let out a scream when you hear the door unlock and he pulls you inside, catching you by surprise and making you stumble.

Before you have a chance to speak, Toji slams the door shut behind you, pushing your body against it before kissing you hungrily. You place your hands on his chest, creasing the fabric as you pull at it, humming into the kiss when his tongue shoves into your mouth. You close your eyes, the fluttering in your stomach making its way down to your core as his tongue plays with yours, making wet smooching sounds in the otherwise quiet room.

“I think you’ve misunderstood this. I’m simply here to return your jacket,” you tease, huffing as you catch your breath when your lips part. He smirks as he slides the jacket off your body till it pools near your feet before caging you against his body with his arms locking around your waist.

“Of course, this is me simply thanking you for returning it,” he moves one hand lower till it’s massaging the flesh of your thigh just below where the fabric of your dress ends.

“Oh, you’re welcome,” you give him another innocent smile as you wrap your arms around his neck and pull his head down for another kiss. 

His hands lift up your dress to your stomach before going back down to squeeze your ass. He deepens the kiss as he towers over you, making you arch your back, causing you to hook your arms around him to keep your balance.

When you break the kiss for another shallow breath, he moves to your jaw, biting and pulling your skin with his teeth as he makes his way down to your neck. You tilt your head to give him more access, letting out soft sighs as he leaves sloppy kisses all over the expanse of your neck.

While his left hand hooks around your waist to keep you steady, he brings his right hand over to your mound, pressing the sticky lace of your thong into your folds. When he feels how wet you are, he groans against your skin, biting it again.

He rubs over the fabric again and you moan out of frustration, he's so close yet there's a tiny barrier between. You try to grind against his hand, whining when he pulls away.

He gets down on his knees before you can complain and lifts your right leg over his shoulder, securing it in place. You lean your whole weight against the door, feeling like you'd fall if you didn’t have something solid to hold onto, so your hands make their way down to tug at his hair.

Toji hooks two fingers into the lace, pulling the fabric to the side to expose your puffy folds to him. He slowly slides two fingers over to separate them, your wetness coating the tips of his fingers immediately. 

“Knew you had a pretty cunt,” he murmurs as his eyes remain fixed on the way his fingers are working you. You let out a breathy moan, tightening your grip on his hair.

He brings his face closer to your core, peppering the entire area with soft kisses. You thrust forward into his face but it only makes him slap the inside of your right thigh harshly.

“Toji… please, stop teasin– ngh,” you plead but your words get caught in your throat when he licks a stripe up your cunt like it's a melting ice cream. He darts his tongue out to wiggle it over your clit and your legs feel as if they're about to snap and go limp.

“Toji– wait… I n-need to take off my heels,” you huff.

“No. They stay on,” is all he says before sliding two fingers into your hole with ease, and at the same time getting back to making out with your clit.

“Fuck– Toji please– ah,” your straight knee buckles forward as you yank at his hair some more to steady yourself. You let out an involuntary yelp when he lifts your other leg over his shoulder as well, burying his face into your pussy, hooking both his arms around your thighs. While this angle hits better, you feel a different kind of thrill about completely having given up control and trusting him not to drop you to the floor.

As you lean your head against the door, your hips rut further into his face and Toji doesn’t relent even for a second. As you hook your feet behind his neck, he brings his right hand down to your hole again, pushing three fingers in this time, meeting with a bit of resistance. The squelching sound of his fingers fucking your hole mixes with the sound of his lips sucking your clit.

“Feel s-so good,” you pant as your thighs twitch around his face. You shaky hands run through his hair weakly as you try to steady your ragged breathing. Each time Toji hits the right spot inside your walls, you moan out praises and encouragement for him to keep going.

He curls his fingers as he picks up the pace and it's brutal. You hold his hair so tight that you hear him hiss momentary before getting back to fucking you with his tongue.

You close your eyes shut as your hip involuntary thrusts forward, twitching uncontrollably as you come all over his fingers. You bite your tongue to control your moans, turning them into muffled whimpers instead. He pulls his hand out to hook it back around your thigh as his tongue starts lapping at your juices to lick you clean.

“Ngh– Toji, too much!” You squeal as you try to move your hips away from his touch but it causes him to poke his tongue out further over your sensitive skin.

“God– please, baby I can’t take it anymore,” you cry as your body jerks violently again. You hear him chuckle before kissing your clit one last time and pulling your legs off his shoulders and standing up again.

When you land on your feet, you're glad he’s holding your waist to keep you from crashing to the ground. He kisses you on your lips and you taste yourself on his tongue. It's enough to take your already intoxicated mind to a new level of high.

He slowly lets you go before stepping back to create distance as he hurriedly takes off his clothes and your eyes widen when you see the way his erect dick hangs low and heavy.

He grabs a condom from his wallet, tearing off the cover before sliding the rubber over his hung cock smoothly. The smug smile on his face grows wider when your eyes peel away from his dick to meet his gaze. You stare at him with a look of astonishment mixed with nervousness. 

“Toji… you're–” you whisper silently. Toji is blessed to say the least.

“It's okay, don't be scared, pretty. I'll make it fit perfectly,” he cooes as he closes the distance between your bodies.

You gulp when he pressed his hands on either side of you, caging you against the door. As he's kissing your shoulder, his hands move to your back to undo your zip. He struggles a bit, fiddling with the zip of your dress and you’re pretty sure you hear a rip when he grows impatient, tugging at the fabric harshly.

“Did you jus–”

“Shh… later,” he blurts out, not giving you a chance to complain as he pulls the dress down your body, unhooking your bra to yank it down. He quickly takes off your thong as well, leaving you exposed as you stand in front of him in only your heels.

“So much better than what I had imagined,” he stares at your naked figure hungrily and you pull him closer to kiss him once again, already missing the way his lips feel.

You wrap your hands around his torso to feel his muscular back with your fingers, growing wetter at how huge his body feels compared to yours. He pulls away to lean down, latching his mouth onto one of your nipples. 

You let out a satisfied hum and he repeats the action on your other nipple. Your eyebrows furrow as your back arches at the sensation and you weakly claw at his pecs.

“Fuck– I can't wait any longer… Just let me know if it hurts too much,” he groans as he scoots you up off the floor completely, hooking your knees over his elbows, opening you up wider as he readjusts his pelvis under you.

You bring a hand down to guide his tip to your entrance, sucking in a deep breath as you look down, anticipating his movement as he begins pushing his dick inside you. 

With your legs spread apart firmly, he presses his hips up, almost losing his shit at how tight you feel. You bring both of your hands up to hug them around his neck. You steady yourself, resting your cheek onto his shoulder briefly when you feel his movement come to a halt. You feel so full, there's a delicious ache in your lower belly.

“Shit– I'm gonna move now, okay?” he grunts. You simply nod your head as he grabs you by your sides to push your lower body away till only his tip is inside before pulling you in closer to fill you up again.

Your eyes roll to the back of your head while your mouth hangs open when Toji begins to slam you onto his hard length, repeating the motion over and over again as you let out broken cries of his name. When he picks up speed, your pussy flutters at the abnormal feeling, causing him to pounce into you harder.

“Oh god– nghh– Toji!” You cry into the crook of his neck.

“Mmh– look at me, let me see that pretty face,” he orders breathily. You pull away from his neck reluctantly, eyebrows still knitted as your lips stay fixed in a silent O shape.

“Look at how well you take my cock… ‘ts a perfect fit,” he hisses when your pussy squeezes him again at his words. You'd always thought that Toji would be the silent type, just like he was at the office, but seeing him spew such vile praises just adds more to the intensity of it all.

“Fuck– Toj–” you whimper as you rest your forehead against his.

‘Hmm? Yes, pretty? Cock got your tongue?” He laughs but it's strained. You tilt your head to kiss him on the lips and he shoves his tongue into your mouth to kiss you back hungrily. You moan into the kiss when he thrusts harder. In a swift motion he pulls away from the kiss, dropping your legs to the ground as he pulls out of you to turn you around.

He pulls your hips back to meet his, while pushing your face flush against the door to arch your back for him. He slides back into your hole in an instant, rutting into you from behind. Your hands press against the surface of the door while he grips onto your hips tighter to keep them from jerking forward due to the force.

You bring your left hand down to rub your clit, the pressure building up further as you get closer to your release. Toji leans forward to press his chest against your back, hooking his hand down to swat yours away. Instead, he replaces it with his fingers to toy with your clit and it feels so much better than your own dainty ones.

When your legs start to shiver as the pressure in your stomach builds up, Toji brings his other hand to intertwine his fingers with yours, pushing your chest further into the door.

With the way you're screaming his name, you're pretty sure anyone passing by outside can hear you. You wonder if that's the reason he's doing it, to show people just how good he's fucking you.

“Toji fuck– I'm coming– fuck!” You cry as your legs shake as you cum hard, threatening to give out, not being able to hold your weight. Despite wanting to finish himself, obsessed over how your pussy is sucking him in, he knows it'll be a bit too much for you to handle at the moment. So, he slows down as he secures one hand around your waist before pulling out completely. 

He turns you around till you're facing him, taking deep breaths to calm your breathing. He bends down to swing your body over his shoulder with ease as if you weigh nothing at all. He walks over to the bed before slamming you back down onto the soft mattress. 

He gives you another cocky smile, proud of how deliciously fucked you look. You recognize this look and just as he's about to lean forward to make his way to you on the mattress, you place one foot onto his chest as the heel digs into his skin.

“Time out… you’re too much,” you sigh and he lets out a snort.

“Better get used to it,” he smiles as he brings his hands up to take off your stiletto, tossing it on the floor before bringing your other leg up to take off the other pair. 

He holds both your feet firmly, pushing them into your torso till you're practically folded in half as he brings one hand down to rub your swollen clit.

“No,” you turn to the side to get out of the position before sitting up straight, looking at his still erect cock in front of you. You lean closer to him as your hand wraps around the length, “Let me make you feel good.”

You roll the condom down before discarding it to the side, leaning forward to kiss his tip, swirling your tongue around the angry swollen head before licking a strip up his shaft. When you open your mouth wide, he grabs his length to tap it on your tongue a few times before you wrap your lips around the thick head. You make eye contact with him as you take in more of him, letting your mouth adjust to his size slowly. He mutters a quiet ‘fuck’ while grabbing the back of your head to push it closer. You gag before you can even take his entire length in your mouth, tears slipping out the corners of your eyes.

“Yes, right there… such a pretty mouth. Come on, I know you can take some– ugh— more,” he grunts and you relax your mouth to deep-throat him.

As Toji lets out breathy cusses, you move a hand down to massage his balls. Your other hand moves between your legs to part your folds and rub soft circles. This doesn’t go unnoticed by the man and you see a mischievous smile creep up on his face.

“Let go, babe,” he smiles while firmly pulling at your hair. You move your head back and you can already feel your throat aching as it readjusts to the emptiness. You’re still stimulating his tip with kitten licks, lapping at the precum, all the while touching yourself desperately.

Toji grabs both of your wrists as he pushes you back up on the bed, climbing up before lying on his back. As you await his instructions, you’re confused when he signals you to sit on his face. You hesitantly straddle his chest but it all makes sense when he tells you to turn around. You giggle as the heat rushes to your cheeks as you lie face-down on top of him to sixty-nine him.

“Now, stop being so greedy and focus on sucking my dick,” he speaks as he pulls at your asscheeks to part them, parting your folds with his tongue. Your toes curl in as you lean down to take him in your mouth once again.

As you bob your head up and down, sucking his entire length, his groans vibrate against your pussy as he eats you out just as fervently.

You steady your hands on his thighs as the muscles flex and relax every time his tip kisses the back of your throat. You close your eyes to focus on your movement as it gets harder and harder with Toji slurping at your pussy ruthlessly.

When you bring your hands over to play with his balls, it has him unravelling quickly. After edging himself unintentionally the whole night, he can’t help but feel like this is the tipping point.

“Do you– mmh– mind swallowing?” His voice is strained. You shake your head no, not parting from his cock even for a second. His nails dig into the flesh of your ass as thoughts of you flood his mind.

He can’t help but feel his pride swell that he's the one who gets to ravage his seemingly innocent co-worker like this. As if it weren’t already hard enough, imagining the things he’d do to you when he saw you at the office – now he had actual memories in flesh to make it harder.

Two months ago, he wouldn’t have imagined you'd be going dumb over his dick this way. Your interactions had always been respectful, despite him flirting with you occasionally. It was only about a month ago that you took him by surprise when you give a witty reply,  flirting back with him.

Toji knew a thing or two about breakups, so when he subtly inquired and eavesdropped in conversations around the office, he heard your loudmouth friend talk about how sad it was that your ex had the audacity to dump you when you clearly were out of his league.

Sad indeed, Toji thought, wanting nothing more than to finally get to fuck his pretty colleague. But when you both were assigned on a project together about three weeks ago, the flirting had gotten out of hand and your talks were no longer just a few words exchanged out of courtesy. Toji knew he wasn't made for relationships but a part of him wanted to make you his and greedily keep you to him.

As he enjoys the way you’re sucking his dick with your pretty pussy fluttering under his touch, his desire to have you has only grown stronger.

He leans his head back when he feels himself shoot his load into your mouth, his dick twitching as he feels you lick and struggle to swallow him.

“Fucking hell–” he sighs, kneading the flesh of your ass lazily. When he feels the weight of your body lift up, he grabs your waist to pull your ass back to hover it over his face.

“Where do you think you're going?” He huffs and before you can answer, he's eating you out at a faster pace than before. You already feel overstimulated as is but when Toji pushes two fingers inside, it turns you into a blabbering mess.

You arch your back as you lean forward with your fingers denting the skin over his abdomen. You grind your hips to feel his tongue on your cunt. Your head hangs limply when you cum once again on his tongue and Toji continues to slurp at your juices.

You body twitches violently and you beg him to slow down. He chuckles as he licks you clean before placing a quick kiss over your folds, relaxing his grip to let you get off.

You roll over to the side till you're lying on your back, your chest heaving as you take deep breaths. You look down when you feel a hand on your shin. He smiles lazily at you as he caresses your skin. You smile back before closing your eyes to relax, but open them back again when you feel the mattress dip as the figure beside you shifts.

You find Toji caging you with his arms on either side of your head as he leans down to kiss your lips. You close your eyes, humming into the kiss. He dips his head down to give you another mark on your neck, bringing one hand down to play with your nipples.

“Let me rest!” you push his chest but it doesn't faze him at all.

“Okay fine,” he laughs, “I'm only going easy on you cause it's our first time.”

“Easy? You really live up to your reputation,” you stare at him in disbelief. This makes him laugh and it’s the first time you hear his real laughter and not the smug, cocky chuckles of usual. You grin when you feel a warm fuzzy feeling in your heart, maybe Toji Fushiguro has more to him than he lets on.

He creates some space between you when he gets off and before you can ask him what he's doing, he lifts you up in his arms to carry you to the bathroom. 

When he sits you down on the sink counter to run the hot water tap to fill up the tub, you giggle.

“What?” He walks back to you.

“Nothing… just… Now, I get why women apparently call you unforgettable,” you mumble, trying hard not to blush.

“I don't do this for them,” he shrugs. You roll your eyes at him, not believing his words.

He chuckles, “I'm serious! I don’t fuck around… much. It's not a communal dick.”

“Oh really? What have I done to deserve such special treatment?” You tease.

“If I want to keep seeing you, I have to make you want to see me again too,” he smiles, leaning closer till he’s standing between your parted legs, brushing a finger over your lips.

“I think you guaranteed that right after you made me come the first time,” you laugh.

“That easy? Why's that?”

You shake your head no and he raises an eyebrow, urging you to speak.

“Well… if you must know, I rarely came with my ex. He said he got tired quickly so often I'd finish myself off in the shower later,” you confess, feeling a bit embarrassed at admitting this to him.

“Damn. What a fucking loser,” Toji chuckles dryly as he lazily rubs soft circles on your inner thighs, “Well, I'm glad he sucked. It really was time for an upgrade.”

You laugh as you play with the hair on his nape. You wonder out loud, “Have you ever thought about anyone else from the office?”

“Like who? You’re the only one there who I’d get blue balls for,” he laughs.

“Seriously? Not even Ema or Lisa? They’re pretty hot,” you push.

“Not my type.”

“Hmm”

“Why do you ask?”

“Nothing… just…”

“They’re painfully obvious about their crush if that’s what you’re asking,” he lets out another dry chuckle as he brushes your loose strands to the side, “Well they won't bother from tomorrow.”

“Why's that?” your eyebrows furrow.

“Unless you have a top that covers your entire neck, they’re going to figure shit out instantly,” he smirks as he traces the light red/purple bruises on your neck. You twist to the side to look at your reflection in the mirror.

Your eyes widen as you gasp, “Toji! How am I going to cover these?”

“Maybe don't... it doesn’t matter if they find out– maybe that way the gossip will reach your loser ex and he’ll know just how well I take care of you,” he teases, nuzzling his nose into your neck.

“God, you’re obsessed,” you giggle as you slap his chest lightly.

“Hmm, maybe. Told you I'm not one to share… especially not when your pussy tastes so good,” he kisses down your body till his face is in front of your core again. 

“I never said yes to our little arrangement… I can always back out,” you tease but your breath hitches when he presses his tongue to your core once again.

“Hmm, maybe I need to try my best to convince you then,” he nibbles and you instinctively tangle your fingers into his hair, closing your eyes as you enjoy the way Toji fucks you with his tongue once again.

“Toji… the bathtub,” you sigh when you hear the water overflow. Toji pulls away, holding his hand out and pulling you to the bathtub. Once in, he closes the tap and turns you around till your back is flush against his chest. He kisses your shoulder from behind when you're nestled against his broad torso.

As you straddle his lap, you feel his boner poke your skin.

“Leave some for tomorrow,” you let out an exhausted chuckle.

“Ignore it…,” he speaks softly and you lean back, dropping your weight onto his chest. You close your eyes as you feel him rub and massage your skin with a soothing pressure all over.

You don’t realise you begin drifting into light sleep but blink a few times when your head jerks up, feeling his body shift underneath you. You lean forward to allow him some space and he gets out of the tub. You eye the way the water drips down his body, trickling over his toned back muscles before he grabs the towel to pat himself dry. His damp hair falls over his temple and you smile to yourself – you could definitely get used to this.

He holds his hand out to you and you take it as you get out of the tub. You undo the towel around his waist to dry your own body, feeling your skin prick due to the cold air after having spent a good few minutes in the hot tub.

Just as you’re about to wrap the towel around your torso, Toji tugs it out of your hand to drop it to the floor and instead lifts you up again to carry you out into the bedroom.

“Toji, I’m cold,” you hug your arms around his neck.

“I know… don’t worry, I’ll keep you warm,” he says as he lays you down on the bed, readjusting his position till he’s on top.

“I really think we should get some sleep,” you giggle when he kisses you cheek.

“This is how we build up your endurance… with more practice,” he leaves open mouthed kisses down your throat.

You laugh as you yank his hair to pull his face away from your skin. “Let me sleep! Good night.”

“You can sleep… I don’t mind,” he mumbles as his tongue teases one of your nipples, biting the hardened bud lightly.

“Toji! Behave!” you scold him in a not-so-convincing tone.

“If I had behaved, we wouldn’t be here,” he rolls his eyes as he gets back up to give you a long, lazy smooch till you’re both out of breath. When your lips part, he rolls to the side, collapsing on the bed next to you. 

He covers the thick blanket over your bodies before pulling you to his chest and kissing your shoulder with a soft ‘good night’. The act is surprising as you hadn’t really taken him for the cuddling type. You feel his boner stick out against your back once again and you laugh.

“Shh, this is all very new. Give me some time,” he teases, snaking his arm around your waist. You wrap your hand over his, letting yourself melt into his arms when he rubs soft circles over your belly. You involuntarily rub your ass against his hard on and he presses your stomach to still your movement.

“Don’t do that if you want to sleep,” he warns and you giggle as you close your eyes, the tiredness of the whole day taking over your senses as you fall asleep in his arms.

~~~

You wake up when you hear your phone ring from a distant corner. You try to move Toji’s heavy arm to free yourself but he pulls you in even closer.

“My phone’s ringing,” you whisper as you turn your head to look at him. His eyes are still closed as he grumbles in a low voice, “Let it.”

You still manage to wiggle yourself out of his grasp and quietly walk towards where your phone was lying on the floor near the door. Toji stirs and sits up, his eyes following your naked form as you pick up the call.

“Did you die in there or something?”, you wince when you hear Ema’s voice on the other end.

“Open the door, we’ve been out here for, like, 5 minutes now,” Lisa’s voice is more distant.

When your brain registers what they’re talking about, you slap a hand over your mouth as you stare at Toji.

“Give me 5 minutes,” you mutter before hanging up, not giving them a chance to protest. Toji gets off the bed and walks towards you.

“Ema and Lisa… they’re outside my room… and I'm here,” you sigh as you pick up your garments off the floor.

“Told you there’s no point in hiding,” he says, tucking a loose strand behind your ear, “I’ll walk you to your room.”

You simply narrow your eyes at him with a ‘yeah, right’. He takes the dress from your hand.

“I’m not joking…” he holds the dress up in front of you and shrugs, “Besides, you’re gonna have to wear my clothes anyway.”

You see that the zip is broken with the fabric looking frayed where the zip ends – you had heard it right, he did rip your dress last night.

“I really liked that dress,” you pout but it’s far from a complaint. You know you cannot complain after a night like that.

“I liked it too… it gave me a really hard time the entire night,” he gives you a quick peck, far from apologetic, “I’ll get you one just like it.”

You simply blush at his words before pressing your hands on his chest, “Fineee, get me something to wear.”

He squeezes your ass once before walking away to his suitcase. You put on your thong and bra back on just as he returns with a t-shirt and sweatpants. You snatch them out of his hands and put them on quickly. 

He laughs at how baggy his sweats are, the compression t-shirt is still okay in comparison, “Guess it’s too big for you?”

You crinkle your nose, cringing at his joke as you secure the drawstring tightly to keep the pants from sliding down, “No, it’s not that big.”

“Is that so?”, he wraps his arms around your waist, caging you in, “Do I need to refresh your memory?”

“Toji! My friends are waiting!” you slap his chest and he laughs, leaning down to kiss you.

“Let them,” he moves his lips down to your jaw.

“No, let’s leave,” you wiggle your way out of his arms, shoving your phone in the pocket of his sweats before picking up your heels to carry them in one hand. He quickly puts on a different pair of sweatpants with an oversized t-shirt and sliders before grabbing his keycard. 

“Oh wait… I think my keycard is in your jacket from yesterday,” you turn around when you’re at the door to find him already rummaging through the pockets to retrieve it. You grin at him and he simply shrugs, “Told you, I’m a gentleman.”

You roll your eyes again as he opens the door and you quickly make your way to the elevator. Toji’s hand is resting on your lower back when the elevator dings and the doors open. 

You know there’s no point in hiding, yet you walk ahead of him as you notice your two friends standing outside your room. Before you have a chance to greet them, you hear Toji’s booming voice from behind, “Morning, ladies!”

You brace yourself for their reaction and it’s just as animated as you’d expected. They don't try to be subtle about it as they smirk at you while greeting the man in unison and you realise it's a lost cause trying to keep it a secret.

And it surely doesn’t help that Toji makes it a point to grab your jaw and kiss you goodbye in front of the two for no damn reason, as if it weren’t already obvious about what had transpired between you two. 

As he leaves, you smile at him, watching him walk away. The heat rushes to your cheek when you hear Ema fake a cough and you turn around to look at your friends. 

“Open the door ASAP! I wanna know everything,” Lisa squeals and you know your friends would not leave you alone until you went into heavy detail about the whole night.

~fin~

[iatnen]

daniel and sebastian defo the type of couple to explosively break up at breakfast and be making out sloppy style at dinner, people ask ominis whose side he takes when they argue and he threatens to avada himself

Exactly

I’ve let my inbox pile up for long enough I NEED TO GET TO THEM NOW SO HERE I GO

Oooof I had a hard time with this one….. I was stuck between pride and greed. I mean if you push Daniel’s character to the veerrryyy extreme he’d be a success hungry guy who craves recognition and validation 😅 And Daniel’s main flaw would be his short temper LOL

Doesn’t like being seen as less than > goes out of his way to be the best > gets mad when he doesn’t reach his own expectations/what he thinks other people’s expectations are + insecurity of his own abilities = anger issues…… does that make sense 🤔😰 hopefully HAHAHA

What makes Daniel laugh? Sebastian 😙 NAAAHHHH but fr pretty much just anything that makes the average teenage boy laugh….. like skibidi toilet (ironically) 😸 Sarcasm, irony, anything that’s funny bc of how unfunny it is, I think that describes Daniel’s humor in a few words

For his laugh… hmmm

Well first he’s not the type of guy to really laugh out loud or cackle, when something is funny it’s usually more like one of those short little exhale laughs yk ??? But I mean if he’s really going to LOL he would be sorta airy, breathy, starts with a wheeze kinda laugh that just goes silent and then broken by a sudden gasp for breath YK??? Likeee I suck so bad at explaining but those out of breath laughs is what I’m imagining

Ominis is both of their friends but it’s a little complicated 😅 ofc Ominis would be conflicted cuz of the dark arts stuff yk still he doesn’t hate either of them. Daniel and Ominis had a very rocky start, in the end they respect each other on their own choices and views. Ominis separates Daniel from Sebastian’s actions, so he isn’t angry at him for whatever happened with the relic and Solomon etc. (even if he lowkey enabled Sebastian 😰)

I like to think that Omini would take on the role of the “responsible one” in the group when they’re together, while Sebastian is the one coming up with the crazy ideas and Daniel is like “ok!!!”. He’s still closer to Sebastian than to Daniel just bc of how long they’ve known each other but yah they’re all good friends and hang out yay !!! 😙

HI ANON ! TYSMMMM it’s so shocking to read that people like Daniel too…. Like THAT’S MY OC GUYS !!! 😦 WHAAATTT !!!??!!

I’m truly motivated by such messages when I get them 😿😿😿 I know I don’t answer every single one like this but I NEVER DELETE THEM !!! I keep them in my inboxes and read them whenever I need a little push to draw so THANK YOU ALL

HAHAHA well I hope you’re being careful when opening my posts at school….. some of them are uhhh 😳

I honestly had no idea what OTP meant for the longest time, I just saw it everywhere BUT YAY THAT’S SO EPIC YET STRANGE TO HEAR LIKE…. I CAN’T BELIEVE PPL LOVE THE QUIDDITCH BROS ???!! (I think I’m just gonna call them that now)

And finally thank you to these two for the sunflowers 🙏 I was surprised to even get one THANK YOU 🌻🌻

[buckymorelikefuckme]

a helping hand

jake jensen x fem reader

words: 3.7k

warnings: **18+ ONLY** friends to lovers, handjob, fingering, p in v sex, unprotected sex (don't do that), jake has a big dick, my lame attempts at humor. please let me know if i missed anything!

a/n: SURPRISE!! this is honestly so silly. and filthy. i wrote it in a frenzy last night after the idea randomly came to me. keep in mind it's all based off the vague info i have about him. i probably took a lot of liberties. it wasn't planned for my first jakey fic to be this, but oh well lmao! any and all mistakes are my own. feedback is encouraged and greatly appreciated :) xo

❀ part two

With an exaggerated, put-upon sigh, you gesture vaguely at Jake to stand and say, “Alright, let me see it.”

“What?” Jake asks, brows furrowed so deeply you worry he’ll get a migraine.

“You’re being awfully dramatic about this, so I need to see what all the fuss is about,” you calmly explain, though still skeptical.

Jake had showed up at your apartment with a look of pure despair, ranting about how yet another hookup went south when they took their clothes off and his would-be partner saw his cock for the first time. Said they almost begged him to leave and take his monster with him.

Surely his dick can’t be that big, right?

Jake hesitates, watching you warily as he contemplates, but then he sighs heavily and he rises to his feet, grumbling as he unbuttons and lowers the zip on his jeans. His thumbs curl under the waistband of both the jeans and his underwear before he unceremoniously shoves them down to mid-thigh. And then there’s only silence that follows.

You blink. You stare. You blink again.

Jake shifts his weight on his feet, settling his hands on his hips awkwardly.

Finally, you find your voice.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” you wheeze, your voice tight and airy as you struggle to remember how to inhale.

Jake groans, covering his face mournfully. “I told you!” he wails. “It’s too big! And I know, I know—boohoo woe is me I have a big dick—but listen, this is literally a big fucking problem. I’m going crazy here. It’s just not the same with only my hands!”

Probably because not even both of your hands can cover your gigantic fucking penis, you think to yourself, but thankfully, do not say aloud. And, alright, maybe you’re exaggerating just a little, but Jake is still easily the biggest you’ve ever seen. Like, leaps and bounds bigger. The length of it isn't overly scary or anything, it's just… thick, and veiny, has the slightest curve to it.

And the thing is, you really shouldn’t be so surprised. In general, Jake himself is… big. He’s tall, and broad, and his hands are works of fucking art with his long fingers and wide palms, and his thighs—Jesus, fuck, his thighs. They deserve sonnets alone, just for how sculpted and muscled they are. Even Jake’s pecs are big. And you’re normally not a tit person, but Jake’s? You’ve cupped and squeezed and fondled them probably too many times to be appropriate.

The point is, though, that Jake is fucking hot. You have always thought so, in an offhand kind of way, like, a passing observation. Jake is also sweet and attentive, always periodically checking in on each person in his friend group, always willing to offer advice or a listening ear. He’s incredibly smart while also endearingly dumb about so much. He never asks for help with anything because he doesn’t want to be a burden, no matter how many times he’s told he could never be. So you’re pretty sure that Jake has used up all of his courage and vulnerability by coming to you with his problem. And you are flummoxed as to why he chose you, but you will not let this opportunity pass you by.

“Jake,” you start after a slight pause, “I have lube, patience, and willpower.”

And Jake says, “Huh?”

Which is fair, to be honest.

“Can you, um, put your dick away so I can think properly?” you ask after delicately clearing your throat.

Jake flushes and hastily obeys before taking his spot on the couch again.

You shift to face him fully, taking in his pink cheeks and inability to meet your gaze, and you feel bad for being so blunt, for speaking before thinking.

“Sorry,” you apologize, “I just wasn't… You know.” You wave your hand around in a way that you hope says, I wasn't expecting you to have the most perfect cock I've ever seen, when your mind blanks on how to continue.

Then again, maybe it's a good thing you couldn't figure out a way to say that verbally.

You clear your throat again. “What I was trying to say is that, um, maybe I could help you?”

Jake tilts his head. “Help me?” he repeats.

“Yeah, you know, like,” you say, licking your lips, “I could lend a hand. So to speak.”

It only takes a split second for him to understand what you're saying. His eyes widen, round like saucers behind his glasses, ears now burning a bright red as he sputters.

“What? You're offering to—no, that's. No, you're not—this isn't what I—fuck, I think I’m gonna pass out,” he stammers breathlessly, and honestly, he is starting to look a bit lightheaded. He shakes himself, closing his eyes, then takes in a deep breath and releases it slowly.

You quietly wait for him to gather himself, almost wishing you hadn't said anything. Almost, but not really, not enough to try to take it back.

Finally, he blinks his eyes open and turns to you. “I didn't come here expecting you to–to help me with my… problem.”

“Jakey,” you say on an exhale, smiling. “I know that. I offered because I wanted to.”

“But why?” he questions, bewildered.

You purse your lips, glancing up at the ceiling as you think about your response carefully this time. “Because you're one of my best friends, and you're hurting, in a way. I know it's not like, the worst thing in the world to just get off with your own hands, but I feel like getting shot down at the last minute every time you go to have sex can't be good for you mentally, either.”

Jake shifts his gaze to his lap then, mouth twisting into something disappointed, and that just confirms what you've said. He's started taking this to heart, beating himself up over something entirely out of his control. Sure, you wanna get your hands, mouth, and everything else on his dick, but a guy like Jake deserves to be brought to orgasm by someone else.

“Think of it as a favor,” you try, quietly, nudging his arm.

Swallowing roughly, he meets your eyes, searching. “Are you sure?” he asks after a long pause.

You reach out and grab his hand, twining your fingers with his. “I’m sure.” When he still hesitates, you squeeze his hand lightly. “You can say no, Jake.”

“No.” You start to pull away, and then he shakes his head quickly, holding on to you tighter. “No, I mean—I don't want to say no. I'm just. I'm a little nervous.”

His confession breaks your heart a little more. On the surface, this problem isn't all that serious, but underneath it all, Jake is craving connection. You’ll make sure he leaves your apartment more than satisfied.

“If at any point, for any reason, you want to stop then we’ll stop,” you promise.

He finally smiles, small and lopsided, and nods in agreement. You stand up, tugging him to rise with you and struggling to lift all that muscle mass.

“Come on,” you instruct, “let's go to my bedroom. We’ll have more space there.”

Silently, he follows you to your room, palm clammy against yours. The sun is shining through your windows, beams landing directly on your bed like some kind of spotlight. You let go of Jake’s hand to quickly shove your comforter to the foot of your bed then climb onto it.

“C’mere,” you murmur when you see him hovering unsurely beside the bed, patting the space between your legs.

First, Jake makes quick work of the button and zip on his jeans, before knee-walking to where you indicated. You both settle on the mattress, your back to the headboard and Jake getting comfortable against your chest and into the cradle of your spread thighs. The position really highlights your size difference, almost comically, and you have to swallow down all the things you want to say or sounds that threaten to escape.

Jake already has his jeans back down around his knees and quickly wiggles his underwear down to get his dick out. He’s jittery, his movements stilted and awkward, like he doesn’t quite know what to do with himself.

“Relax, Jakey,” you softly instruct, reaching up to squeeze at his shoulders comfortingly. “It’s just me. I’m here to help, okay?”

“Right,” Jake replies on an exhale, nodding, “okay. It’s fine. I’m fine.”

Your lips quirk slightly. “Good. I’m gonna touch you now, alright?”

“Okay,” Jake murmurs.

You hear him swallow, see his fists clench and unclench where they’re resting beside his thighs. Tentatively, as if not to startle him, you move your hands to Jake’s hips, petting over the exposed skin there. You hear Jake’s breath hitch then, so you keep going. You trail your fingers down the tops of Jake’s thighs, into the crease where they meet his groin and back up, just a touch higher than before, and you repeat the motion a few times until you’ve worked the hem of Jake’s shirt up to give you better access to his torso.

Slowly, Jake sinks further and further into your embrace, getting heavier and heavier the more you touch him. You are quietly loving the weight of him, the way his head is starting to loll and his eyelids beginning to flutter. You watch Jake bite his lip when you finally tease closer to his hardening cock, running your fingernails lightly across the trimmed hair above it.

You raise one of your hands, palm up, with a soft, “Jake,” as instruction.

He blinks down at your hand for a second, dazed, and then he’s carefully holding your hand and bringing it up to press a surprisingly gentle kiss to your palm. You feel your face grow hot as you hide your smile in Jake’s shoulder, though you’re positive he can feel it anyway.

“Jakey,” you say again, painfully endeared, “I meant for you to, you know, get my hand wet.”

“Oh.” He huffs a little at himself, but he doesn’t hesitate to bring your hand back up to his mouth and drag his tongue across your open palm.

Now it’s your turn for your breath to catch in your throat, locking every part of your body so you don't make any sudden movements or do something stupid. That gets more difficult to avoid when Jake, after thoroughly licking all over your hand, tops it all off by gathering the remaining saliva in his mouth, makes you cup your hand and then spits into it. For a split second, you think you’re about to come, which would be mortifying, so you’re glad when you’re able to reign in your hormones and offer a small thank you so you can get back to the task at hand. Literally.

You bite the inside of your cheek as you finally allow yourself to look over Jake’s shoulder, and honestly, you could weep at the sight before you. Jake’s cock is fully hard now, lying against his toned stomach, looking more intimidating than ever. Somehow his cock seems bigger, and thicker too. Your mouth waters, but you tell yourself to focus.

With your dry hand, you lift Jake’s cock, holding him at the base while you bring your other hand down to curl around the head. Jake gasps lightly, but otherwise stays still and quiet, at least until you begin stroking him. Slow and steady, you drag your hand down to the base of Jake’s cock, then add a little more pressure on the upstroke. Jake makes a punched out kind of sound, his knees jerking up slightly before settling back in place. A thrill rushes through you, powerful and giddy at the thought of Jake being at your mercy, of being the one to pull out even these tiny reactions. It makes you want to see just how loud you can make him. For now, though, you continue your steady pace, feeling more than hearing Jake’s sigh when you use your free hand to start touching him everywhere you can reach again.

What’s dangerous about this is that you could get used to it. You’re pretty sure you already are, and that could spell disaster for you, because you’re just supposed to be helping him out. This is only supposed to be offering Jake some relief after being unable to get off with a partner, to give him pleasure that isn’t by his own hands. You press your lips together and speed up your stroking, just a smidge, squeeze a bit more around the head and dig your thumb into Jake’s slit.

“Oh,” he utters, head falling back to rest on your shoulder, eyes closed tight and hips twitching up into your touch, chasing the feeling.

“Does it feel good, Jakey?” you boldly ask.

Jake nods and hums. “So good,” he affirms. He moves his hands to grip your knees as he adds, “Being so good to me, sweetheart.”

And, well. Fuck. You've been trying to pretend your pussy isn't wetter than it's been in a long while, but his words have you wishing you could close your thighs for some much needed friction. Subtly, you try to shift your hips and all it does is make you more frustrated. You let out a huff, breath fanning out against Jake’s neck. He shivers against you and you pause. Your lack of movement makes him whine, low and pleading, and it jolts you back into action.

Dragging your gaze down the line of his throat only makes you want to put your mouth on it, see if you can get him to shiver again. You peek at his face and see his eyes are still closed. Softly, so soft, you lean in and press a kiss to the side of his neck, and the way he responds is beautiful.

He whimpers, tilts his head back further to give you more room, his hips bucking up into your hold as you continue stroking him at a rhythmic pace. And you really can't say no to that kind of invitation. So, sufficiently sure that he doesn't mind it, you press even more kisses into his skin, trailing them up and down his neck and shoulder, as far as you can reach. The kisses turn wet, your tongue flicking out to taste him. Jake’s stomach muscles clench, and you quicken the pace of your hand up a bit, mouthing sloppily up his neck to his ear.

“Don't know how anyone could refuse you,” you mutter, your own breathing getting heavier to match his. “How can anyone look at your cock and not want to sit on it, Jakey? It doesn't make sense.”

He groans, planting his feet on the mattress so he has better leverage to thrust up into your fist, panting and letting out needy sounds.

“God, Jake,” you whine. You suck and bite a mark on his throat, pulling away once you're happy with it. “I bet you would feel perfect inside me,” you confess in a whisper.

“Stop,” he pants, and you let go of him in an instant, stomach dropping.

Before you can start to panic too much, Jake clumsily shifts around until he's on his haunches facing you, flushed all the way down his chest, eyes blazing behind his frames. You open your mouth to ask him what's wrong, but then he's gripping you under your knees and yanking. You fall flat on your back with a startled yelp and Jake is there to swallow the sound, kissing you like it's his lifeline. A moan rips its way out of your chest, arms coming up to wrap around his shoulders and pull him closer to you.

He breaks the kiss, glasses askew, to ask, “Can I please fuck you?”

Any other time you'd snort at the politeness of such a vulgar question, but at the moment all you can do is nod, roughly tugging at his shirt until he gets the hint and removes it, almost knocking his glasses off entirely. It lands somewhere on the floor, along with his jeans and underwear a second later. You squirm once you see his body fully naked, core throbbing in need to have it against you, on top of you.

“You too,” he murmurs, reaching for your shorts.

You lift your hips to help him, biting your lip at the way he curses when he realizes you aren’t wearing panties. With a grin, you surprise him further by taking off your t-shirt and reveal you're also not wearing a bra.

“Would it totally ruin the moment if I say I’ve wanted this for way too long?” he wonders, eyes raking over your body, his hands joining soon after.

You smile softly and shake your head. “Not at all.” He returns your smile, but yours eases into something mischievous. “But what will ruin the moment is if you don't get your fingers in me to get me ready for your big cock.”

Jake’s smile drops. “Fuck,” he says with feeling.

To incentivize him, you spread your legs, hand tracing a path down to where you're dripping. He watches with blown pupils and a slack jaw. When you hum as your fingers lightly glide down your slit, he snaps into focus. He knocks your hand away to replace it with his own. You sigh at the touch of his calluses on your sensitive skin, tilting your hips up and moaning when he finally sinks one finger inside you.

Thankfully, he doesn't seem to want to waste time, thrusting his finger steadily. You've never appreciated how long his fingers are more than you are at this very moment. He works you up to three of them much too fast for your liking, but you understand the urgency he’s feeling, and you can't really deny that you're feeling it too.

“That's good, Jake, c’mon, please get in me already,” you beg, shifting restlessly.

“Shit,” he breathes, “okay, yeah, let me just—”

He shuffles closer, taking his cock in hand and rubbing it up and down your slit, the head catching on your opening, making you whine. He curses under his breath some more and starts pushing in. Your mouth drops open, but no sound comes out, brows furrowing deeply as he splits you open on his cock. When he bottoms out, you let out a sharp exhale that hitches in your chest, while Jake’s chest is heaving like he's run a marathon.

“So tight,” he mutters.

“So—” You hiccup through a desperate sob. “So big, oh my god, Jakey, baby, please move, I need you to move.”

His chin drops to his chest with a pained sounding groan, but he listens. He draws his hips back, cock dragging deliciously out of you, before he thrusts back in. You're not sure you've stopped making noise since he started pulling out, high and needy and hungry pleas for more, and he's barely even gotten started.

Every sensation feels dialed up to a million. You're not sure sex has ever been like this for you; like your skin is on fire, like you can feel your pulse throb through every limb, through every single finger and toe, but especially in your clit. Your nipples even feel more sensitive than usual as they brush against his chest. Your body is positively singing with pleasure.

And Jake… Oh, that sweet, precious man is in heaven. You know you're tight around him, warm and wet, the perfect place to fuck into, and now that he's finally getting what he's wanted he's not holding back. He's fucking you like he’s gonna be graded on it after. His hips slam into yours and he can't stop making noises of his own. Grunts, soft gasps, neverending praise over how you feel, how he's so happy this is happening, how he's never going to stop fucking you.

Your nails dig into the flesh on his back, dragging all the way down until you flatten your palms on his ass and squeeze. His thrusting falters for a second, but he finds his rhythm again quickly, dropping to his elbows so that he's even closer. He kisses along your collarbones, nipping at the base of your throat before sucking at the spot harshly. You moan brokenly and clutch at him tighter.

“Left my mark on you, too,” he declares, kissing the bruise he’s made, then kisses you properly, tongue sliding across yours and dipping into your mouth.

You're not sure how much longer you can hold back from touching your clit, your need ratcheting higher and higher, but you know Jake is right there with you. He's pounding into you roughly now, chasing his climax with determination. Reaching down, you swipe your fingers through your slick and use it to rub your clit, a whimper escaping you when you tighten around him from the added stimulation. Jake growls and speeds up some, hitching one of your legs up his side. It changes the angle just enough that he's hitting that spot inside you that has you crying out, a long warble of his name, fingers quickening their pace on your clit.

“Yeah, that's it,” he encourages. “Please, come for me. Come on, baby, let me see it, wanna watch you fall apart.”

All of your breath gets trapped in your lungs as warmth pools in your core and bursts outward, your pussy fluttering and clamping down on his cock. Your body shivers through your climax, thighs trembling unceasingly as Jake groans and fucks you harder, three, four more times before stilling. He comes with a loud moan, grinding inside you as he rides it out.

After a moment, he collapses on top of you. You grunt at his weight, but smile tiredly at your ceiling, combing your fingers through his hair. You feel him press a kiss on your shoulder.

“Thank you,” he mumbles.

That makes you giggle, which in turn makes you clench and has Jake whining since he's still buried inside you. Gingerly, he pulls out, both of you hissing at the sensation. He runs a tender finger along the outside of your opening.

“Did I hurt you?” he asks, concerned.

“No, baby,” you whisper.

He meets your gaze then, hopeful, still flushed with exertion and glasses slightly foggy. “Baby?”

You hum with a grin. “Yes. My big, beefy baby,” you tease. “I’m keeping you all to myself now.”

“You know, I think I just might be okay with that,” he replies, beaming in a way that puts the sunlight through your window to shame.

[daydreaming-en-pointe]

it’s nice to have a friend (pt. 1)

Pairing: Hobie Brown (Spider-Punk) x GN!Reader

Type: Mini Fic - Fluff-ish??

Word count: 1.6k

Warnings: Cursing, maybe a little bit ooc Hobie since it’s been months, a few halfhearted attempts at his accent and then I just gave up whoops

A/N: wrote this while having the worst cramps of my life last month and only finished it now 👍 idk I just felt like cussing out the world at that point so that might explain the excessive swearing 😭

Tap tap tap.

You were just about dropping off to sleep when you heard those light knocks on the window. Probably just a clumsy bird.

Tap tap tap tap.

The knocks grew more insistent, more familiar - a pattern of sorts. You heaved a long, mildly annoyed sigh and got up to open the window.

It was not, in fact, an annoying pigeon. It was Spider-Punk in the flesh. Or as you knew him, your absolute dumbass of a best friend.

“It’s 3am in the fucking morning,” You waved your hand at the pitch-darkness outside, giving him the most formidable glare you could muster. “What do you want?”

“Hello, sunshine!” Hobie hopped inside, pulled off his mask, and gave you a completely unfazed grin. “Nice to see you too. Stop glaring at me! What, I can’t see my best friend whenever I want?”

“It is 3am in the fucking morning,” You repeated, pointing helpfully at the clock on your bedside table, though you had to press your lips together to squash a smile. Good grief, did his little cross between a smirk and a smile have to be so contagious?

“But I can’t sleep, and clearly you can’t sleep, and I missed you, so let’s go!”

“You saw me barely six hours ago,” You deadpanned, already pulling yourself to your feet and grabbing your coat from where it lay thrown across the the bedside table. “Drama queen.”

“Me? A drama queen? Nah, I’ll show you drama.” He flopped melodramatically onto the floor, grabbing your ankle and pretending to die. He looked ridiculous, like a lanky stick-bug-fish hybrid that crawled onto land and starting flapping about.

“Hobie, get up!” You gave a little huff, reaching a hand down to yank him upwards. “Okay, fine, let’s go wherever it is you want to go.”

“Yay! Can we go to the roof?”

“Sure, we can take the fire esca- HOBIE WHAT THE FUCK NOT AGAIN!” Before you could even take a step towards your bedroom door, he had grabbed you around the middle and leaped out the window. Your stomach dropped as he let you both plummet almost to the ground before shooting a web to the railing that ran the length of the roof and extended a little bit over. You both shot up like a rocket and he angled you in such a way that your landing would be much gentler than his.

“The next time you do that I’m going to throw up on you,” You warned him once you got the air back in your lungs (after a little bit of wheezing).

“That’s what you said last time. Besides, ‘s like a free amusement park ride! Honestly, I’m so generous, you don’t even have to pay,” He chuckled softly, brushing past you to sit at the edge of the roof.

“Sometimes I don’t even know why I put up with you,” You muttered, carefully navigating around the looser tiles on the roof to go and sit next to him.

The atmosphere was silent, not peaceful exactly but just still for the moment. Factories in the distance were still chugging out thick smog that floated up to join the suffocating clumps in slowly strangling the city. The alleyways were dark save for a few slivers of moonlight that managed to cut through the pitch-blackness of the backstreets.

Perfect time for a philosophical conversation, right?

“Do you ever wish that that spider hadn’t bitten you?”

Hobie looked at you in surprise, his eyebrows raising slightly. He looked back over the city, leaning back on his palms. “Well… sometimes. What I mean is… sometimes I just wish I didn’t have to do this, y’know? But it’s better me than some pig. One of those bastards as Spider-Man would be a fuckin’ nightmare. For everyone who sees through Osborn’s bullshit.”

You nodded, satisfied with his answer. Truth be told, you didn’t understand much of what he said - it was 3am, it had been a long day, and the words just didn’t register in your tired brain. You closed your eyes for a few minutes, leaning on Hobie. It wasn’t very comfortable, since not only did you have to avoid impaling yourself on the small spikes on his vest, but his shoulder was also pretty bony under the fabric.

“Tired?” He turned his head to look down at you, eyes soft and sweet and filled with something you couldn’t quite put a name to right now, perhaps because of the state of your consciousness.

You rolled your eyes, having still not fully pushed away the remaining traces of grumpiness that lingered from your rude awakening. “Thanks to the dumbass who woke me up at some unholy hour.”

“Come on, you know you wouldn’t have slept anyway. At least this way you have some company.”

You opened your mouth to say something back but slowly shut it upon realising that he was right. Absolutely insufferable.

You just snorted and closed your eyes, savouring the moment as best as you can. You loved quiet moments like these, where you could ask anything and get an honest answer instead of having to mince your words — maybe you liked them more than you should, but it was fairly harmless, right?

Marriage could end in divorce, couples could break up, and young love really wasn’t a constant. You couldn’t expect something so intoxicating to retain its magic against the test of time.

So it was better to take that fierce rush of whatever it was that you were feeling and label it as platonic love. Because strong platonic love, when it was returned, was benign and beautiful and all-encompassing, all at once.

“Oi, don’t fall asleep here. Still with me?”

You felt a light touch of ridiculously cold fingers against your forehead and jolted fully awake.

“Asshole,” You complained, batting away his ice blocks for hands. “Have you been sitting and stewing in a fridge for a few hours?”

Hobie snickered at your annoyed frown and chose that moment to break into a grin, reaching into his pockets. “Oh, that reminds me, I made us matching bracelets!”

He held out two bracelets, ridiculously tiny in comparison to his fingers. They were both composed of random beads, staples, half-broken bottle caps and bits of coloured string threaded onto a loop of fishing twine. The loud, mismatched colours practically vibrated off of them in shockwaves like some sort of sonic boom of Hobie-ness.

In short, they were absolutely perfect. There was nothing that he could’ve given you that would remind you more of him. All sleepiness was momentarily forgotten as you took one of them, holding it up to examine it in whatever moonlight managed to cut through the clouds.

You gave him a smile, slipping it onto your wrist carefully. “It’s beautiful, Hobes. Thank you.”

“Ah, we’re back with the nicknames! There it is! Good to know I didn’t actually make a mistake waking you up.” His tone was lighthearted and teasing, but his smile had turned into one of affection as he watched your reaction to his gift.

There it was again. You’d seen it a few times recently, and it had been silently eating at you no matter how much you tried to dismiss it as simple friendship.

Nothing more than a tiny little flash of that puzzling something in his eyes, but something that made you feel all warm and fuzzy inside, and not just in a way that someone would feel about their best friend. Something that gave you the courage to finally break free from the voice in your head whispering about everything that could go wrong — although that might have been because of your horrendous lack of sleep and the tiredness that was tinging each of your thoughts with just a little bit of delirium.

Screw keeping it platonic.

“Hobie,” You began, and something in your tone must have sounded different because he trained his eyes on you, his head cocking to the side slightly. You faltered slightly, trying to think of something to say. But before you could find a way to put your exhausted, confused mess of thoughts into words properly, he winced and his face scrunched up in the way it always did whenever his spider-sense went off.

“I’m sorry, I gotta…” Hobie gestured vaguely down at the alleyways, an apology practically written on his face. You nodded, ignoring the hollow pit of disappointment forming in your stomach.

“Yeah, you should go. I’ll… see you tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow,” He agreed, already fishing through his vest pockets and digging out his mask. He paused to give you a cheeky grin before slipping the fabric over his face. “Don’t worry, I’ll pick a more pleasant time to drop in.”

“That’s what you said last time!” You called after him as he leaped off the building, disappearing down into the roads winding around, into and throughout the city. You stayed where you were, hugging your knees to your chest as you stared at the ever-shifting skyline. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Of course something came up right as you had finally mustered up the courage to say something… and yet, it felt as though he was almost expecting it. Like he wanted you to say it.

You scoffed at the absurdity of your train of thought, looping around and around hopefully like a broken clockwork toy. All wishful thinking, perhaps? Then again, maybe not. You pushed yourself to your feet, pushing open the fire escape and beginning to make your way back to your apartment. You almost missed the terrifying rush of adrenaline that accompanied one of Hobie’s daredevil manoeuvres in and out of windows on the fifth floors of buildings. Almost.

You got into bed again and switched off the light, pausing to look out of the still-open window. Oh, well...

You moved to close it, pulling down the pane of glass and latching it at the bottom.

Maybe next time.

@hobiebrownismygod @l0starl @therealloopylupin2099 (not sure if i’m missing anybody else, it’s been a while 😭)

[ponykidcurtis]

called your name ‘til the fever broke | ao3 link

3.9k, hurt buck, v lightly buddie

Through his blurring vision, Buck gets a flash of brick siding—a house?—and then the sun glints off steel, blindingly bright. The hands release him. Buck’s back hits something hard and unyielding, punching the breath right out of him. Something digs uncomfortably into his shoulder. He wheezes, trying to catch his breath and fight his way to a sitting position at the same time, but his legs are still bent at the knee hanging half out of—is this a fucking box?

It’s unseasonably hot. Buck might love summer, love the heat, but really—this is a bit much. The day had dawned beautifully warm, but by afternoon it’s gotten worse. The truck is sweltering when he hauls himself in next to Eddie, and he can’t suppress a groan of frustration.

“It’s too hot,” Buck complains, slumping down into his seat. Even the leather is hot to the touch. Bobby gives him a sympathetic look over his shoulder from the front and reaches over to flick the air conditioning on. 

“Sounds like a simple medical call,” Bobby says, as the radio chatters at him. 

“No turnouts?” Buck asks hopefully. Bobby laughs and shakes his head. 

“Why send us all out if it’s just medical?” Eddie asks, at the same time that Buck mutters, “Thank god.” 

“Dispatch says the caller was a little unclear on the details,” Bobby explains, “There may or may not be a second patient—we’re not sure, so we’re just covering all the bases.” 

“So we’re going in blind,” Eddie says. Beside him, Buck twists, trying to maneuver the strap of his radio over his head without undoing his seatbelt.

“Dispatch saw no need to send an officer our way, so I’m not worried,” Bobby assures him. He cuts a look to Buck, eyebrows raised. “Buck, what are you doing?”

“It’s hot,” Buck complains again. He finally succeeds in getting his radio off and drops it next to him, reaching for the buttons of his uniform shirt next. “I’d rather not wear two shirts if I don’t have to.” 

Bobby sighs. “Fine.” 

Buck pops the buttons and tugs at the sleeves, getting them down past his shoulders. He gets as far as his elbows and then resorts to wriggling, trying to get the sleeves off the rest of the way with the shirt trapped behind his back. He’s sure he looks ridiculous—at least Hen and Chimney are in the ambulance, so Chim isn’t here to razz him about it. 

Eddie takes pity on him after a moment, reaching over to help get one sleeve over his wrist. The second is easier, with one hand free. His LAFD t-shirt is damp with sweat down his spine, but it’s better than multiple layers. 

“Thanks,” Buck says, leaning back against the seat again to let the air conditioning work its magic. 

There’s hardly time to enjoy the cool air from the vents before they roll up to the scene. Buck grimaces at the thought of stepping back into the heat, but he unclips his seatbelt and gets a hand on the door anyway. 

“Put your radio back on,” Eddie reminds him, and hops out.

read the rest on ao3

[yourlocaltrashpandaa]

A Slight Bit Odd

{Various Genshin Characters/Isekai’d!Fem!Reader}

Summary: A young lady from the modern world interacts with people from another world that don't live in a world like hers. People of Teyvat say she's a slight bit odd.

Masterlist

Word Count: 1526ws

<======>

Chapter One: Arrival in Ina-what?!

A wheezing cough sounded from you as you ran through a grassy field. You trampled bugs, slightly tripped over rocks and startled wildlife as you went. You were thinking to yourself why did you skip cardio every day during p.e. if only you knew you’d might need that cardiovascular strength when running for your life. And why are you running for you life? Well, let’s just say you appeared in a world that wasn’t your own and the people here are less than friendly.

You lost your footing as you slipped on the grass yet you were able to keep your from falling to the ground, catching yourself with your hands and slid. A huff left your lips as small beads of sweat slipped down the side of your face as your eyes screamed for help. The people that have been chasing you called themselves the Tenryou Commission they’ve been on your tail since you woke up.

The Tenryou Commission had called you an outlander once they saw you, sitting up from the ground feeling slightly dazed. You were quite startled by their shouting, you started booking it from them a while ago when your eyes spotted a city. It was a straight shot minus the monsters that you ran into along the way. You were close but you felt as though you were close to collapsing from exhaustion but you can’t stop now.

“Hey! Stop right there!” You heard a voice yell.

“Shit!” You exclaimed softly as you pushed yourself off of the ground and picked up into a sprint again.

You needed a place to hide and getting into the city was your best bet. Maybe you’ll bump into someone that could help you, maybe someone that wasn’t so hostile to outlanders and this someone could tell you where you are. With the city in your sights, you grinned yet grimaced feeling a pain in your chest, your lungs felt like they were about to burst.

Seeing a brick walkway, you tripped over the edge of it and fell. A yelp left your lips as you closed your eyes as you fell waited for the impact of the brick that never came. Feeling something grip around your back and waist. Your eyes widened as they slowly opened again to get a look at your saver.

“Are you alright, miss?” A concerned voice asked you. It was young man, he didn’t look much older than you. He had bright green eyes that held a concerned look. His hair was sandy blonde yet looked ginger in certain lighting. His horned headband is what caught your interest the most, you liked it.

You coughed and groaned a bit from the pain in you legs and chest. “I need help… being chased… hide me…” Was all you could get out, a slight bit broken yet you hoped your saver would understand since you did have time to explain how, who, and why. The sandy blonde nodded.

“Alright. You can explain to me everything once we get you somewhere safe. And you look exhausted.” He said.

“Yeah…” You mumbled out.

"Come with me. Komore Teahouse is the safest place for you for now at least then I'll have a chat with the Kamisatos of the Yashiro Commission and we'll see from there." The green-eyed male said.

“Okay…” You agreed.

You didn’t complain or argue with him since you were too exhausted to even see straight or think. A stranger was being nice enough to help so who were you to complain. You wanted to sleep, desperately. The male’s grip on you tightened as he started guiding you into the city. You leaned up against his shoulder, your legs almost falling out from under you as you walked.

“Oh,” The male’s green eyes shifted to you as he smiled at you softly. “By the way, my name’s Thoma.” He introduced himself to you.

“Thoma…” You repeated his name, it was nice name.

Though before you could introduce yourself back to Thoma, your exhaustion won the battle.

*

*

*

Your eyes shot open, light was coming through the window next to you, it streamed in hitting you into your eyes. You squinted a bit to adjust to the light. You sat up from where you were laying and looked around to take in your surroundings.

“This must be the Komore Teahouse.” You said.

“I see that you’re awake,” You turned and looked over to the doorway of the room you were in. It was Thoma. He smiled at you. It was a bright and friendly smile, it seemed genuine too.

“Uh, yeah,” You replied. “Thanks for your help, Thoma.”

He nodded, keeping his friendly smile. “It’s not a problem. Happy to help someone in need. Besides you haven’t even told me your name yet.” Thoma said.

That’s right you didn’t. You blacked out before you could introduce yourself. “Right, sorry about that. I’m Y/n, just Y/n.” You said.

“Y/n. That’s a nice name. It’s different from what I’ve heard,” Thoma said. “Are you from a different nation?” He asked.

You laughed nervously. “Yeah, you can say that.” You said.

"I see. So, what brings an outlander here to Inazuma?" He asked you.

You looked off to the side and out the window of the teahouse, sighed a bit and looked back over to Thoma, who eagerly awaited for you response.

“I can’t really say,” You paused thinking of what to say. “I honestly don’t know how I got here.” You said.

Thoma frowned at your response. “Really?” He answered not knowing what else to say.

“So, amnesia then?” Thoma asked.

“No,” You replied tilting your head to the side. “I don’t think so. I have my previous memories I just don’t have any memory of coming here.” You said.

“That’s quite strange.” Thoma said as looked off to the side and went into his thoughts.

“So, Thoma,” Thoma looked back at you as soon as his name came from you. “Where am I exactly?” You asked.

“Welcome to Inazuma,” Thoma said. “One of the seven nations in Teyvat.”

“Ina-what? Teyvat?” You were confused at this point as Thoma told you have suddenly appeared in.

Your eyes widened. ‘Holy shit! I’m in a different world!’ You screamed in your head.

“Y/n? Are you okay?” Thoma asked you.

“Yeah!” You exclaimed. “I’m totally fine!”

‘No I’m not!’ You thought.

“Okay… so, Y/n tell me,” Thoma grabbed your attention again. You hummed in response. “Who was chasing you to the point where you couldn’t even stand?” He asked.

“By people who called themselves the, what was it again, the Tenryou Commission? Yeah! That was it!” You said.

"The Tenryou Commission. Now I see why? You know you technically ran from the law." Thoma said.

“Shit! Really?” You asked.

“Yeah, nowadays, Inazuma doesn’t take to kindly to outsiders,” Thoma said. “You’re really lucky you ran into me and no one else.”

“Gee, I couldn’t have guessed,” You said sarcastically, rolling your eyes a bit. “But yeah, I’m happy I tripped and fell into you, Thoma.” You smiled at him.

He chuckled softly. “Really, it’s no trouble,” Thoma said. "Anyways, I spoke to Lord Kamisato about your situation now that I know more it's best if we head to the Kamisato Estate to speak with him."

"Kamisato? You keep mentioning that name. Is it someone important?" You asked.

"Oh! Most definitely. The Kamisato Clan is the head to the Yashiro Commission and Lord Kamisato is responsible for the Yashiro Commission and all of its affairs." Thoma explained.

“Sounds like he’s definitely important. You work for him, Thoma?” You asked him.

“Yes, I do.” Thoma said.

“I’m curious then,” You smiled. “What do you do?” You asked.

"Oh that. I'm just a housekeeper nothing more than that." Thoma said.

You squinted your eyes at him and scrunched up your face. “Really?” You questioned. You felt like he wasn’t telling you the whole truth.

“Yes. Really.” Thoma said.

“Okay, I’ll believe you… for now.” You whispered that last part. You were not entirely convinced but dropped the subject.

You had to since you barely knew Thoma and vice versa yet he’s been so kind to you and is trying to help. You felt like you could trust Thoma though not all the way. Now, you were curious about what kind of person this Lord Kamisato was.

"Anyways," Thoma's voice took you out of your thoughts and you looked over to him. "You should rest and stay here for a few days or so before we meet with Lord Kamisato, you'll be safer." He said.

“Okay.” You replied to him.

'So I guess I'm meeting this Lord Kamisato in a few days time. This should be interesting.' You thought.

"Oh! And before I go, how about something to eat." Thoma smiled.

Your eyes widened at this. “Food! Now you’re speaking my language! Yes, please!” You exclaimed.

Thoma chuckled at your enthusiasm. "Then wait here for me."

‘Maybe this place won't be so bad after all.' You thought with a grin.

Yet little did you know that a lot of eyes are on you and they’re not friendly.

[mollymawkwrites]

this is the longest thing i have written in well over a year, and i'm quite happy with how it came out. thank you so much @dapandapod for your support and cheer reading, it meant a lot <3 CW: dubcon, sleep paralysis, inhuman!Eddie

Of course Steve gets nightmares. He’s always had them, ever since he was a little boy in a too big house. They only got worse after he saw a demogorgon crawl out of the walls at the old Byers’ place.

Flesh monsters, vines tight around his neck, demobats tearing at his flesh… Yeah, his brain has all the material it needs to fuck up his nights for several lifetimes. And yeah, some of them are about Eddie.

That’s weird, given Steve was only vaguely aware of the other boy’s existence until they met in less than ideal circumstances. And it’s not like they hit it off then, either. Sure, Eddie was fun and braver than he liked to pretend, but they hadn’t really gotten to know each other, what with the whole “running for our lives” situation.

But one doesn’t decide what one’s traumatized mind chooses to focus on, and so, in the months after the almost apocalypse, Steve gets used to seeing Eddie’s pale, bloodied face in his sleep every once in a while.

One of those nights, give or take five months after they’d buried an empty casket and struggled to meet Wayne Munson’s eyes, Steve wakes up from a nightmare featuring big, fearful doe eyes with a strangled gasp.

His brain struggles to catch up as his heart beats fast enough to hurt, sweat tickling his scalp. What hits him first is the heaviness of his limbs, unresponsive even as he wills himself to sit up. Panic seizes him, and he screams — well, tries to. All that comes out is a pathetic wheeze.

No matter how hard he strains on his vocal chords, nothing comes out but the air in his lungs.

It takes him a while to calm down, and even then it’s more out of exhaustion than anything else. That’s when Steve notices the shadow in the corner of his room. And it’s not like he’s not used to mistaking a pile of clothes or a coat hanger for a threatening presence — there have been incidents involving panic attacks and waving his nail bat at unsuspecting items.

But this — this is not just a hallucination. Or maybe it is, a very elaborate one. He can’t see much, a humanoid shape, hunched between his wardrobe and his desk, so dark it looks like it’s sucking the moonlight from the room.

It doesn’t move, and Steve keeps his breathing shallow, quiet, his lungs straining with the lack of oxygen as he stares at the shadow, his eyes burning with the need to blink. As if keeping his eyes on it will keep it from moving closer.

A car passes in the street outside, bathing the room in light for a second, and two eyes flash, reflective like a cat’s, fixed on Steve, furthering the feeling of <i>prey</i> tickling at the back of his neck.

But with the sudden light, there and gone, Steve gets a better look, though the thing is still just a shadow, a complete absence of color and light; but the shape of it is familiar, wild curls around its head, bad posture in a relaxed, careless way. It’s a silhouette he sees more often than not when he’s asleep.

Maybe he is still dreaming; that would explain why he has no control over his body, his voice. Why Eddie’s shadow is standing in the corner of his room. It doesn’t make it easier to relax, the claustrophobic feeling of being trapped in his own skin bringing back flashes of metal chairs and manacles in a Russian secret facility, of slimy vines crawling over him, restraining his limbs, choking him.

“Eddie” is unmoving, quiet, as Steve’s chest heaves around painful breaths, his mouth opening around silent words and pleas. Nothing comes out of his mouth but agonized whimpers. Tears gather at the corners of Steve’s eyes. He still doesn’t dare to blink, equal parts terrified that Eddie will disappear or that he’ll attack him if he does. Adrenaline rushes through his veins, making the forced immobility of his limbs even more unbearable.

It feels like hours before he slips into an exhausted sleep, “Eddie” just as unmoving in the corner as Steve is in his bed. Flashes of light glint off of his eyes from time to time, and the outline of him seems blurry, like dark, unnatural smoke. Steve fights to keep his eyes open, trying to catch more details out of the apparition haunting his room, but as the stars wink off and the sky lightens, he gives up, and sinks back into uneasy dreams.

The incident stays on his mind for the next couple of days, making him nervous, unsettled; but after an uncomfortable conversation with the other older kids, he concludes that was just the results of his exhausted, traumatized mind, a textbook case of sleep paralysis (thank you Nance). After that, it’s easier to put it out of his mind.

Except it’s not even a week before he wakes up gasping in the middle of the night, vivid images of bitten off flesh and big, lifeless brown eyes staring at a blood red sky superposing with the familiar decor of his own bedroom for a second. Restless energy thrums, desperate to do something, get rid of this helpless feeling that’s been underlying, hiding under his skin for months; but as he goes to rise and find something to do, maybe call Robs or demand a check in through the walkie, he finds himself, once again, unable to move an inch.

This time he forces himself to breathe through the panic, to relax his limbs, just like Nancy told him. And it helps, it does, right up until he notices the shadow standing at the foot of his bed, the moonlight coming from the window forming a halo in its wild, curled hair, darkness bleeding out from where Steve knows the bats tore into skin and flesh.

He can’t help the choked sob clawing up his throat as tears spring to his eyes, rolling down his temples to pool in the hollow of his ears. He whimpers, hurting his tight throat as he fights to whisper, “S— sorry, ‘m sorry, Eddie—“

A weird, hissing noise echoes around Steve’s room, making the hair on his arms rise, like the warning sound of a rattlesnake when you’ve stepped too close. It takes Steve a minute to realize it comes from Eddie, a mockery of a shushing sound, as if trying to soothe him. 

At some point, around the same time his tears dry and his sobs fade into tired hiccups, the sound merges into a faint hum, discordant and unsettling, like an old-timey melody heard through a malfunctioning vinyl turntable. It sounds familiar, though Steve’s exhausted mind can’t quite recognize it. He falls back asleep quickly, wakes up in the morning with salt tracks dry on his cheeks and a stubborn melody stuck in his brain.

This, like the nightmares, the yearly world-ending threat, and the knowledge that superpowered teenagers are a thing, becomes Steve’s new “normal”. Every once in a while, when Steve dreams of Eddie, he wakes up to the silhouette of the dead metalhead lurking in his room, sometimes in the corner, sometimes in the shadow of his wardrobe, or even perched on his desk.

As weeks pass, the silhouette seems to get sharper, like a camera focusing bit by bit. Shadows leave place to a pale face with wide, black eyes, reveal claws at the end of long, thin arms, and the low, rough voice always seems to be humming the same melody, the one Steve can’t seem to shake off his brain even during the day, and is pretty sure is meant to be played on a guitar.

After a few of these nightly visits, Eddie gets bolder, starts crouching at the foot of Steve’s bed, and eventually, perching over him, his face hovering over Steve’s, eyes glinting, mouth forming wordless melodies. There is no weight, no dent in the sheets; dreams are weightless, Steve supposes. There is a smell, though, something like ash, like ozone and iron, that gets stronger whenever Eddie manifests that close to him. A cold sensation seeping through the sheets where there should be contact between them, raising goosebumps over Steve’s skin.

This goes on for another few weeks, during which Steve debates telling anyone about his unusual nighttime visitor. He saw Eddie’s dead body, the vital parts ripped out of him by thousands of tiny teeth. He mourned along with the rest of the Party, though his waking mind kept his focus on Max and her slow, painful recovery.

All that to say, Eddie is dead. Steve knows that. And even if he wasn’t, they left his body back in the Upside Down. El closed all the rifts, they made sure of it. How could Eddie be here, when his body has been locked in another dimension?

Steve is probably going crazy, making up a strange imaginary friend, a fucked up kind of coping mechanism. Telling the others will alert them of his less than stellar state, and get it in their head to help him. And then… then Eddie, or whatever weird imaginary version of him, might disappear for good.

Steve’s not sure why the thought makes him so uncomfortable, why he almost looks forward to going to bed now, despite the nightmares, despite the insomnia, just because it might be one of those nights where Eddie “visits” him again. Somehow, he gets to spend more time with a man he lost before they could become friends, and no matter how fucked up that is, Steve doesn’t get a lot of nice things these days. He’ll enjoy that one while it lasts.

*

There is something else Steve hasn’t told anyone, not even Robin. Since their last stunt in the Upside Down, Steve’s libido has been… well, lacking would be a word for it. And he knows he’s got A Reputation, but the truth is he’s never been as much of a Casanova as everyone says. Sure, he’s gone on a lot of dates, and some ended up in one night stands. But that always feels unsatisfactory. Yeah, Steve likes sex, loves sex, but what he loves about it is the emotional connection. So no, he doesn’t sleep around that much even at the best of times. And this… this is <i>not</i> the best of times.

The fact that he’s either been not sleeping or having nightmares when he does surely doesn’t help. He’s had no interest in sex in months, and even masturbation is only perfunctory, just another unsuccessful way to try and fall asleep.

So when he gets his first wet dream in who knows how long, Steve damn well intends to enjoy it. There’s no real focus of his dream, only warm, fuzzy sensations, a tingle in his lower belly he’s not felt in what feels like forever.

He basks in it for a little while, heat building, shapes and sensations brushing his skin, his hands tangling in long, soft hair, humming lips kissing his burning skin, a weight shifting over him like a comforting, grounding embrace.

A hoarse voice moaning praise, whispering his name against his throat, his ear, his hair.

“Stevie…”

He grinds against the other body, chasing sparks of pleasure, but the weight disappears, and he whines, hips stuttering, seeking delicious friction.

“Steve,” the raspy voice pierces through the hazy fog of lust, and Steve opens his eyes to his dark room, a now familiar immobility restricting his body. His heart beats hard in his chest, body still caught in unfocused pleasure. He knows to look for a shadow before he’s even completely awake.

Eddie’s crouched awkwardly near Steve’s legs, big eyes staring at him in surprise. From his point of view, there’s no ignoring the obvious tent in the light summer sheets. The shame that floods Steve chases away the last of the sleepiness, and he closes his eyes in mortification, a muffled groan making its way out of his tight throat. There’s no doubt Eddie had been sitting atop him when Steve had started moaning and grinding his hips like a perv. The weight had felt so real, so good, and now Steve is left with a persistent hard-on in front of his own personal ghost.

So instead he keeps his eyes closed and hopes against hope he’ll get back to sleep and Eddie will be gone when he wakes again. Which, of course, has zero chance of happening in normal circumstances, even less so with his dick still stiff as a board.

The mattress shifts, Steve’s body rolling with the movement. He snaps his eyes open, meets Eddie’s equally confused gaze. That felt like… Eddie actually sitting on Steve’s bed, his weight dragging Steve towards him like gravity. But it can’t…

They both watch as Eddie raises his hand as if in slow-motion, hovering right over Steve’s knee, complicated emotions stirring in his bottomless eyes. The touch, when it comes, is cold through the sheets. A jolt of electricity shoots up Steve’s thigh, contracting the muscle and tingling over his skin.

“Stevie?” Eddie rasps, voice unsure. Steve wants to tell him it’s okay, though he really doesn’t know if it is, all his comfortable assumptions about dreams and sleep paralysis and logic flying out the windows as Eddie’s fingers press into his flesh; not bruising but firm, like he’s trying to make sure he won’t go through Steve’s skin.

Gaze rising from where he’s been staring at Eddie’s — corporeal— hand for the last minute, he finds Eddie’s eyes searching his face, bloodless lips parted over too sharp teeth. Though he feels far from confident about the situation, Steve dredges every bit of reassurance and comfort he can find, pushing it to the front of his mind as if Eddie could absorb it through — fucking osmosis or something.

 Dumb as it sounds to his own brain, Eddie seems to catch up on it, and he shifts again, a little closer, upper body hovering over Steve’s, his big dark eyes searching for something.

Slow, as if not to spook him, Eddie brings his other hand to Steve’s bare chest. His fingers are freezing, and Steve can’t fight off the shiver that wracks through his body at the touch, soft skin yielding under a clawed hand.

Eddie stays still for a moment, his eyes never leaving Steve’s, before lowering his head next to his hand, ear against Steve’s chest, as if… as if listening to his heart.

Steve’s face flushes bright hot as his traitorous heart immediately picks up, betraying how affected he is by all the touching.

He is so lost to mortification he almost doesn’t notice the strange sound rising in the room, but the vibration against his chest catches his attention. Weird as it is, it doesn’t take long for Steve to understand Eddie is purring, loud and smug like Dustin’s cat always does when he perches on Steve’s lap. A silent laugh shakes Steve’s shoulders, and Eddie straightens up, a small, hesitant smile on his face. Sharp fangs press into his plush bottom lip, creating little dimples matching the ones on his cheeks. Steve only sees them for a second before Eddie shuffles even closer, leaning down again, aiming this time for Steve’s neck. Visions of those sharp fangs tearing into his throat only torment him for a second, before he hears Eddie snuffling against his pulse point, cold breath raising goosebumps over the bare skin.

Steve’s not sure his sleep stale sweat is a very alluring scent, but Eddie seems to think otherwise, as an oddly long tongue trails from the dip between Steve’s collarbones to the ticklish spot under his left ear, the deep purring emanating from Eddie’s chest growing louder with the action.

Steve lets out a strangled gasp at the wet sensation, the night air flowing from his open window immediately cooling the trail of saliva and enhancing the sensation. His flagging dick reacts immediately, rising to attention. Eddie raises his head, face hovering right over Steve’s as he searches his gaze, a sharp grin pulling at his lips when he finds whatever it is he’s looking for. Steve’s breath is shallow, fresh sweat beading at his temple as his body heats rapidly, hyper aware of Eddie’s skin so close to his own, their only point of contact the hand Eddie still has placed at the center of his chest and the strands of curly hair tickling his throat and shoulders.

“Stevie,” Eddie croaks again, with an edge of teasing to his voice this time, his cool breath brushing over Steve’s face. 

A pang of loss runs through Steve when Eddie sits back, mourning their proximity, until Eddie throws a leg over Steve to sit over him, much like he has taken to do during his nightly visits, except this time, Steve can feel it, his weight, the coldness emanating from his body, as he sits right over Steve’s crotch.

For once, Steve thanks his momentary paralysis, as he has no doubts his hips would have thrust up if he’d been free to move. Instead, he lets an admittedly embarrassing groan, which has Eddie smiling wilder and squirming a little, sending sparks flying through Steve’s spine, his core tightening with pleasure.

Leaning with a smug purr, his hair tickling along Steve’s scarred ribs, Eddie plants a kiss right over Steve’s sternum, nosing into his chest hair. Steve’s hands itch to reach for him, to stop him or urge him to keep going, that isn’t clear even in his own head. Staring at the dark blue of his bedroom ceiling, trying to breathe deeply enough to get enough oxygen to his brain so he can think about the situation properly, Steve leaves Eddie to his animalistic… scent marking?

The scrape of a fang over his left nipple startles him back into the present with a gasp, eyes snapping to Eddie’s mop of dark hair. Dark eyes glint at him between the strands before lowering again to focus on the sensitive area.

It’s more exploratory than intentional, the way that slick, serpentine tongue flicks out to follow the edges of Steve’s scars, to taste the moles and freckles that dot his entire body, and it drives him crazy. He feels filthy, enjoying it this way, though there’s no way Eddie doesn’t know what he’s doing.

The thin sheets offer little protection, and though Eddie is still mostly shrouded in darkness, Steve’s pretty sure he’s just as naked. He can feel the muscles in Eddie’s thighs flexing on each side of his hips with every tiny movement, and there’s no ignoring how well Steve’s cock fits under his ass, trapped in delicious agony.

Once Steve notices that, no amount of imagining his old swimming coach naked helps to quell the fire building inside him. It only takes a few more minutes of Eddie playing with his chest like a kitten with a new toy to bring him to the edge; once there, it’s only a matter of Eddie shifting a little, Steve’s cock slipping between his buttcheeks, and Steve is thrown into a cramp-inducing climax, body going rigid under Eddie.

He comes to a few seconds later, chest heaving, opening his eyes to  a pleased and awestruck expression on Eddie’s face. They stare at each other for a silent second, before Eddie sits back and snakes his hand under the sheet and Steve’s underwear with a focused expression on his face. Excuses and apologies bubble up to his lips, dying on his tongue as Eddie drags a clawed finger in the sticky cum on Steve’s lower belly. Bringing it to his own mouth with a curious expression, Eddie licks Steve’s cum off of his finger, effectively strangling the breath out of Steve’s lungs in the same time.

Making a face at what Steve assumes to be a bitter salty taste, Eddie scrunches his nose and lets the sheet fall back over Steve’s modesty. Fondness floods Steve’s chest, and he smiles up at Eddie when the boy turns back towards him.

Body lax and fuzzy, more relaxed than it’s been in what feels like years, Steve quickly slips into a dreamless sleep, only conscious long enough to feel Eddie’s cool but solid presence laying down beside him, wrapping around him with a contented purr.

Steve falls asleep to the feeling of Eddie’s sharp, blackened fingers treading through his hair, playing with the strands, humming a discordant melody in a deep, raspy voice.

*

Steve wakes slowly, drifting in and out of consciousness, sensations coming back to his body; the slight chill of the air over his naked skin, something soft brushing against his cheek, an unpleasant sticky sensation tickling at his crotch. God, it’s been years since he’s come in his sleep like this, he’d thought he was over with this kind of teenage bullshit—

The memories of the night before hit him at the same time as he registers the arm thrown over his chest, and he snaps his eyes open, suddenly completely awake. The body against his shifts as it wakes, tangled curls tickling his nose and making him sneeze. All movement seizes, the other body going as stiff as his, before it springs up, light blue sheets slipping down to reveal pale skin mottled with dark ink and angry pink scars.

Eddie Munson is looking down at him with wide, disbelieving eyes. Warm, brown, human eyes.

“What the fuck?” A rough, scraping voice escapes Eddie’s mouth, though it doesn’t look voluntary, if his even more confused expression and the hand flying to touch his own lips are to be believed.

“Me what the fuck? You what the fuck!” Steve replies intelligently. He’s not very proud of how he’s handling the situation, but he’s pretty sure he can be excused for that one. It does feel good to be able to talk — and, oh, to move as well, he checks as he mirrors Eddie and sits up — with Eddie there.

“I’m alive? I’m— I’m real?” Eddie overlooks Steve’s stupid answer, turning his eyes to his own — very naked — body, right hand hovering over his chest as if afraid to touch. Or to go through his own skin.

Too confused and tired of this shit to be delicate about it, Steve tugs on the curl of brown hair sticking to Eddie’s neck. “Seem real to me.”

Eddie slaps his hand with a wince and a frown, but at least the disbelief on his face fades from his expression for a second. Silence settles over them as Eddie wiggles his fingers in front of his face, pokes at his own cheeks, smushing them in a way that floods Steve’s heart with fondness.

“Am I… human?” Eddie asks at last, his eyes deliberately avoiding Steve’s this time, as he skims his right hand over his left forearm.

Steve studies him, the vulnerable slouch of his shoulders, the slightly unnatural paleness of his skin, and raises his own hand to brush Eddie’s hair away, revealing a pointed ear. “I’m not a hundred percent sure on that one,” he says, rubbing his thumb over the arch of Eddie’s ear. “You can still blush though, so that’s good news.”

Face flushed red, Eddie groans, falling forward to hide in the crook of Steve’s neck. “You’re an asshole, Harrington.”

“Well, I might be an asshole, but it looks like fucking me brought you back to life, so I think you should be grateful,” Steve says, barely containing a laugh as Eddie gives a halfhearted slap to his chest.

“I thought it was a dream! I thought I was dying or already dead and my brain just decided to let me have some fun in my final moments.”

“You often dream about breaking into my room to have your way with me?” Steve wraps an arm around Eddie’s shoulders, reveling in the very firm, solid presence of him, though not as warm as he’d expect a human body to be.

Pushing away to give Steve a stern look, Eddie says with a flat voice, “Steve, I literally just came back from the dead. Stop trying to get in my pants.”

Steve shrugs and slips out of bed, giving Eddie some space. He steps out of his soiled underwear, confident that Eddie likes what he’s seeing. “I’m not the one who sex-dreamed myself back to life. You don’t have a leg to stand on here, Munson. At least <i>I</i> got a great orgasm out of it. And here I was, about to return the favor.”

And if he puts a bit more of a swing into his hips as he walks to the bathroom, well. The sound of bedsheets being shoved to the floor and footsteps following him in a hurry are so, so worth it.

[heathersbutincorrect]

Time for a chandsaw oneshot to add to the collection!

The taste of drain cleaner hit her tongue before Heather realized what was happening. This was no prairie oyster, but a liquid death. She choked immediately, trying to expel it. A hand that wasn’t hers shoved its way past her lips. Fingers down her throat. Veronica? She gagged and gagged. How long can a person go without breathing? The next thing she knew, she was retching and finally ejecting that horrible drain cleaner.

“T-that’s it Heather, get it all out…” Had Veronica been crying? “I’m so sorry. He tricked me. I never, ever wanted to hurt you.”

Heather threw up on her own this time. The taste was even worse coming back up. It was startling to see so much blue. How much had she consumed? Her chest heaved as she caught her breath. Veronica was kneeling in front of her. The phone was sitting off the hook. She must have called 911.

At the hospital, doctors frantically ran about and provided treatment. There were second degree burns inside her throat. They said she was lucky to be alive. Veronica was frantic to explain that it was a freak accident. There was a mixup in the kitchen. Heather had never seen the girl have so many panic attacks in a row. And yet she could do nothing. It wasn’t until several days later that she got the full story of what had been done. And really, she knew JD was bad news but how dare Veronica try to undermine her and take power for herself? If her guilt wasn’t so genuine she would plot revenge against the girl too. But for now, ending JD was a good enough goal. As punishment, Veronica would have to help.

“Anything! I’ll do anything!” Veronica was so quick to agree. She hadn’t left her side since she was admitted, missing school. That was unheard of. Heather tried to speak, but it still hurt too much. Instead she had to write out what she wanted to say. She handed the note over.

“Yeah, I can help come up with a plan. Hey uh, Heather and Heather wanna stop by today to see how you’re doing if you’re up for that. What should we tell them?”

Heather glared and shook her head. Too embarrassing to give all the details. “Okay! I’ll just give them the same story I gave your parents. I promise, JD will get what he deserves. Just hang in there.” Veronica squeezed her hand and walked off for a moment. She was doing that a lot. Touching her, then isolating herself.

Heather and Heather visiting was a drag. McNamara just played twenty questions with a doctor. Duke spent half the time in front of a mirror, not even fully present. Veronica was the only one that actually seemed to want to be here. After half an hour, the pair left, and Heather was just relieved. It was less lonely to be alone with Veronica. Where was she, anyway?

“V…” Once again, her voice died in her throat. She’d get it back if it was the last act of her short life. She wandered towards the bathroom and saw the door was shut. On the other side of the door, she could hear panicked sobbing. Heather knocked.

“I-I’m fine.” The worst lying she’d ever heard. And she heard bad lies before. But she wasn’t trying to lie.

“Let-“ Heather burst into a round of wheezing and coughing. “P-pl-“

“Okay. Okay. Please don’t…don’t strain yourself.”

She opened the door. Her eyes were red, wet, and swollen. Her makeup was completely smeared. “I’m sorry, I can’t help it. I can’t make the…guilt…go away. I was just so angry. I fucking slept with JD and said I was done with you. He took it too far.”

Heather could only nod in response. She hated not having her voice yet. There was a lot she wanted to say about JD.

“I know you’ll probably never forgive me. I’ll do whatever it takes to bring him down. And I promise, I won’t let a boy sweep me off my feet like that ever again. I can’t be trusted.” Heather raised an eyebrow. Veronica was really talking down on herself about this. It must be destroying her. It was then she wondered, when was the last time this girl had even slept?

“Well anyway. Enough about me. They’re gonna take a look at you tomorrow and if you’re able to talk by then, you can go home.”

Thankfully, things looked far better in the morning. Although she was still on the mend, doctors were stunned when Heather was capable of saying a few words at a time already. Her recovery was praised in the whole wing as she was sent home with Veronica. Her parents had found an excuse to be out of town…in other words, not deal with the embarrassment.

Back in her room where it all happened. Heather saw the blue stain on the carpet and nearly cringed. While Veronica religiously started to scrub at it, she noticed a couple things out of place. Her copy of The Bell Jar sat on her bed instead of the nightstand. And there was a crumpled paper with some pencils on the floor. She cast a glance at the brunette who was still cleaning.

“My book.” She couldn’t say much more to clarify what she meant, but Veronica followed her gaze and got the point.

“That must’ve been what JD was doing…he was convinced you’d die and wanted to stage something. Obviously, I didn’t listen to him.”

For the first time, Heather was afraid of JD.

“I know. I didn’t want that either. I was lucky to even be able to save you at all, really.” Two more words came to mind. Something she thought she would never say.

“Thank you.”

The blush in Veronica’s cheeks gave her new life. And so they spent the afternoon together, cleaning and plotting the demise of Jason Dean.

[randalsgrave]

Sweetness and Light: Part 5

Well hot damn, it's been long enough - and speaking of 'long enough' this part totaled out at 22 pages. Told y'all it's only gonna get longer from here on out.

Week two and week three go by, each with its high - and low - points.

BobxFemale!OC. F/C: Kacey Rohl

Word count: 8.1K

WARNINGS: colorful language; not beta-read (we die like men); mentions of toxic family behavior

Recommended Soundtrack: Go! - Public Service Broadcasting; Kick the Tragedy - Drop Nineteens; Crank - Catherine Wheel

***

Week 2. PT does, indeed, suck on Monday. 

Everhardt decides that his class’s first PT session of the week is going to involve endurance conditioning at the base track - a lot of it. 

When he utters the dreaded words “caboose runs,” Katie groans (as do probably 5 other people, but that’s beside the point). As if it wasn’t bad enough that she and Bob kicked their asses hiking on Saturday, now she’s got 20 minutes of staggered sprints on shit legs to worry about. 

“It had to be caboose runs,” Katie mutters under her breath as she falls in line behind Fanboy and trots off for the next 20 minutes of hell. 

At least she’s not alone in her misery. Bob says nothing as he slips into line behind her. He does, however, pass her a grin of pained solidarity as he sprints his way up to the front of the train when his turn comes. 

It’s a grin she returns when it’s her turn to bolt to the front. 

It’s also a grin that Fanboy catches notice of, and one that he finds himself asking questions about when the run ends 20 minutes later. 

“Am I missing something here?” he wheezes to Katie when they’re all clustered on the side of the track, taking a much-needed water break. 

Katie, propped up beside Bob against a row of bleachers, shrugs. “Dunno. Maybe if you’d tagged along with us instead of spending all morning in bed on Saturday, you’d be in the loop.” 

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. How was the hike, anyway?” 

“Long,” Bob winces. “And steep.”

“Hm. Explains the faces of agony.” 

“You don’t even know the half of it,” Katie mutters with a snort, which Bob underscores with a nod and chuckle of agreement. 

Fanboy says nothing else beyond that - at least, not while Bob is within earshot. When everyone starts making their way to center field for calisthenics and Bob follows along with the others, Fanboy pulls Katie aside, leans in close. “So uh, like I was saying earlier… Am I missing something here?” 

There’s no missing the sly, knowing glimmer in his eyes when he speaks. Oh Christ Fanboy, what are you insinuating?

She plays dumb. “I have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about,” she says airily. 

“Hell you don’t,” Fanboy retorts with a roll of his eyes and a smirk. “I saw you guys vibing together. Being all smiley and shit. Y’all got real friendly with each other on Saturday, didn’t you?” 

“If by ‘got real friendly’ you mean ‘hiked up the side of a mountain and OD-ed on pancakes and hashbrowns shortly thereafter,’ then yeah, we got real friendly.”

“Cute, cute. There gonna be a second date?”

“Oh my god Fanboy-”

“Ooh, that sounds like a yes-”

“Fuck off,” Katie giggles as she gives Fanboy a small shove. “Seriously, there’s nothing going on with me and Bob. We’re just friends.”

“Five bucks says that changes in a couple weeks.”

“You ready to lose that bet?”

Fanboy shrugs. “I dunno, I’m feeling pretty good about this one.” The waggling of his eyebrows earns him an exasperated groan. 

“You are absolutely ridiculous.” Despite the nature of the words she just spoke, Katie can’t help the grin that splits across her face. “C’mon, before Everhardt bitches at us.” 

He laughs, but says nothing more as he jogs off to join the others for the rest of PT - and thank god he does, otherwise he would definitely have words to say about the disgruntled scowl curling across Katie’s lips. Making bets about her love life… As if she even has one. She and Bob are friends and nothing more. 

At least, that’s what she tells herself. What she’s currently hell-bent on telling herself. 

She steals a glance at Bob, then at Fanboy - and the scowl deepens. Bastard, she thinks. 

This is going to be a long 3 months. 

***

Instruction picks up right where it left off on Friday, with two-man hops and simulated bombing runs and death by classroom lecture. The first half of the day sees Fanboy and Halfpint paired with Airbud, a single-seater pilot, and their hop goes as well as it’s expected to. 

Where it all goes to shit is during the second half of the day, when Katie finds herself paired with Melendez. 

Melendez isn’t a team player; she made that much clear during the first week. Of course, nobody really realizes it until one person or the other is paired up with her for flight ops. Nobody knows which is worse: the fact that she’s maliciously cocky in and out of the cockpit, or that she peppers her shit-talking with musings of being a TOPGUN instructor. She’s not making friends with anyone here - and it seems like everyone else is happy to keep it that way.

So why Katie finds herself jogging after her on the tarmac and calling out to her is completely beyond comprehension.

“Melendez!” she yells over the whistling roar of their jet engines. 

She doesn’t hear her. Either that, or she ignores her. It doesn’t matter to Katie. She jogs after Melendez, reaches a hand out to touch her shoulder.

And damn-near gets decked with a fistful of equipment. 

“What?” Melendez snaps. “What the fuck do you want?” 

“Whoa, hey-” Katie’s hands are up instantly, and she takes a step back, opens up the space between them. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea… “I just wanna talk, that’s all.”

“Yeah? About what?” 

Katie closes her eyes, sucks in a deep breath. She’s gonna have to make this quick. 

“Look - things got off on the wrong foot last week. I was hoping maybe we could reset and try again.”

“‘Reset and try again’?”

Melendez is mocking her, or getting ready to do it, at least. Fuck, Katie knew this was a bad idea. 

She stands tall, gives a single, curt nod. “Yeah.” This conversation may be going south faster than she would’ve hoped, but she’s not about to tuck tail. 

Laughter bursts from Melendez's mouth, a loud, raucous guffaw of… Disbelief? Amusement? Katie’s not sure - but the laughter all the same can’t be a good sign, not when she’s trying to extend an olive branch. 

It starts with a smile, a malicious one.  “Look, blanquita, I dunno what you’re on right now, but let’s get somethin’ straight. We’re not friends; we’re competition - and even if we weren’t competin’ there’s no fuckin’ way I’d wanna be friends with you.” 

Her response doesn’t really shock Katie. At least, the first part of it doesn’t. 

It’s the second part that throws her. 

“You little white girls are all the same,” Melendez says, voice laced with poison. “You try to be friends with everyone so no one calls you out for being trash. Make me look like the bad guy for callin’ you out on your shit.”

“I don’t-”

“Shut the fuck up, yes you do. Grow up, blanquita. Stop tryin’ to be everyone’s friend and do your fuckin’ job, if you even can. They can’t help you if you suck.” 

And with that, Melendez pivots on one heel, and continues her march to her jet. She spares no second glance at Katie, who stands stock-still for a moment, blinking and staring at the spot she previously occupied. 

She didn’t think it was going to go that bad, but… yikes. That was pretty fucking bad. 

And the worst part of it? Maybe Melendez has a point. 

It’s a thought that plagues Katie as she climbs into the cockpit of her F-18, and takes off for an exercise that sees Melendez push her around and leave her feeling like shit about her flying. Maybe she’s right. Maybe she does suck and is trying to distract from it. It wouldn’t be the first time someone’s told Katie that she doesn’t measure up and that she’s only lying to herself. 

You know you’re not cut out for this. Why do you insist on embarrassing yourself?

No. No, no, no. Fuck that. 

Whether or not Melendez is right, it doesn’t matter. Katie can’t let that get to her. She’s worked far too hard and for far too long to be derailed by some little Brooklynite trying to pick a fight with her. 

Melendez wants competition? Fine then. Competition is what she’ll get. 

She’s gonna wish she hadn’t, though. 

***

The next day is much better - Katie’s relegated to an observer position while two other teams are sent up in the air. The two teams in question? Bojack and Wolverine, and Bones, Bob, and his front-seater Rapture. 

Now, everyone at TOPGUN knows as well as the next person that each pilot and NFO has their own distinct magic, that little bit of something that sets them above and apart from their peers in the aviation community. Katie’s knack for quick absorption is unparalleled. Fanboy and Halfpint are fast, efficient, precise. Hell, even Melendez has her magic; her doggedness and tenacity in the air make her one hell of a pilot. 

And then there’s Bob. 

Bob is a goddamn crack shot. His rate of accuracy is so near-perfect that it’s almost a little frightening to watch him and his front-seater rain destruction down below them. Of course, Rapture is plenty accurate and deadly on his own - but with Bob? Their targets don’t stand a chance. Rapture’s WSO is sharp and laser-focused and on the money every damn time, a deadeye of epic proportions. 

Katie can’t help but smile as she listens in on the radio chatter in the ready room and hears Bob and his front-seater slam-dunk the exercise. They’ve got their targets zeroed and smoldering within minutes, a far cry better than most of the others in class. 

Certainly a far cry better than her and Melendez yesterday. It stings, just the tiniest bit, but she tries not to let it bother her. Besides, why should it bother her that someone who’s clearly meant to be here just killed their bombing run? 

This boy is gonna be the one to blow them all out of the water. Katie just knows it. 

“Jesus - remind me never to cross you,” she murmurs to Bob after debrief. “You were like fuckin’ Annie Oakley out there.”

Bob’s mouth screws up in a small grin. “Yeah, well, Annie Oakley appreciates that. It’s nice when your peers tell you how lethal you are.”

“Oh, you. Still wanna grab Chipotle with me, Fanboy, and Halfpint?”

“Thought you’d never ask.” Bob matches his pace with Katie’s, sets his garrison cap upon his golden-brown head. “I’ve been dreaming of a double-protein bowl since Fanboy brought it up this morning.”

“You earned it, that’s for sure.”

He smiles again, wider and happier, and it sends a flutter through Katie’s chest. “I aim to please.”

And he certainly does. Bob Floyd is an incredibly gifted aviator. There’s no doubt that he will take top spot in their class. No doubt at all. 

And, quite frankly, Katie thinks, it couldn’t happen to a better person. 

***

“Do you drink coffee?”

It’s barely past 0630 on Wednesday, and Katie is already receiving texts - and from Bob, no less. 

At first she’s confused. She’s in the Navy; of course she drinks coffee. Caffeinated beverages are practically her lifeblood. 

Her brow furrows as she picks up her phone to respond. “Yeah? Lol. Why do you ask?”

A bare 10 seconds pass before a response is shooting into her inbox. “I’m brewing some in my room,” the text reads. “Happy to make you a cup if you’d like one.” 

Hm. An impromptu coffee date with Bob Floyd. Even if it is ridiculously early in the morning, Katie has to admit, that sounds quite nice. 

“Sure, I’ll swing by. What’s your room number?” 

“224. Just a heads up, I split the room with Rapture and he might be here when you come down. Sorry for that btw.”

“No worries. Be down in a minute.”

Thankfully, neither of them have to worry about Bob’s front-seater when she appears at his front door moments later. He’s stepping out as she’s coming in, heading off for breakfast in the lobby. 

Which leaves Katie quite alone with Bob in his room. 

Somewhere in the back of her mind, a small ripple of excitement passes through as she steps into the hotel room and shuts the door behind her. 

Living spaces, no matter how temporary, have always been an interesting thing for Katie. They paint a picture of the person occupying it, shed light on the parts hidden by polite social interactions and facades. 

Bob’s living space is simultaneously everything Katie figured it would be and absolutely nothing like what she thought. Frank Herbert’s Dune rests on the coffee table in the living room area, but so too does a battered, oft-read copy of Robert Jordan’s The Eye of the World and Pathfinder’s Core Rulebook. A sticker-emblazoned gaming laptop with a pulsating rainbow-colored keyboard rests on the kitchen counter, but it’s streaming soft, soothing coffeehouse jazz. And the coffee that Bob offered earlier? He has a whole setup for it, complete with a hand-cranked coffee grinder, water boiling on the stove in a lodge-supplied tea kettle, and a small French press. Whatever images or preconceived notions Katie had about Bob’s living space have been all but obliterated at this point. 

It’s more than that, though. The contents of the hotel room prove that things are nowhere near as simplified as she would’ve thought. There are layers to Bob; that much has been apparent since the moment they first met. Still, Katie didn’t think she’d ever really get to see them. The fact that she’s now standing here, seeing these parts of him - hell, that he’s letting her see these parts of him… 

She might actually have butterflies in her stomach right now. 

Bob putters around the small kitchen space with his flight suit half-zipped and the sleeves tied tight around his waist, one hand gripping the coffee grinder while the other cranks the handle. His face holds an expression of calm, collected concentration, almost like an artist’s. It’s a creative process for him, Katie realizes. How very him. 

“Do you take anything in your coffee?”

Katie makes a noise of indifference as she seats herself at the countertop. “Not really. I kind of just drink it how it’s presented to me.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure. Why the double-check?”

“Well,” he replies as he dumps the freshly ground beans into the French press, “I ask because some people don’t like how I present coffee to them. I drink coffee black because it lets me taste the flavors and undertones better, but I know a lot of people who think drinking black coffee is like drinking charcoal, so…” 

“So give it to me black then.” When Bob makes a noise of protest, Katie rolls her eyes but smiles endearingly. “I’m a big girl, Bob. I can handle a little bitterness.” 

Bob only nods as he pours hot water into the press, then presses the grounds to the bottom with the plunger. When he pours the resulting liquid into a mug and slides it towards Katie, he does so with a look of nervous anticipation on his face, almost like her reaction determines how the rest of the morning - maybe even the day - plays out. 

Lucky for him, Katie’s reaction when she takes her first sip of coffee is a highly positive one. She’s no connoisseur; she can’t taste any flavors or notes or undertones, but she knows for damn sure that it’s a good cup of coffee. It’s smooth, warm and roasty, but not burnt. Clearly, Bob has good taste in the stuff. 

She smirks around the brim of her mug. “Well, it’s definitely not Maxwell House,” she says before taking another sip, a bigger one. 

“God, I hope that’s a good thing.”

“It is. Don’t get me wrong, there’s a special place in my heart for the cheap shit, but sometimes I want a cup of coffee that doesn’t taste like dirt.”

“Well then,” Bob replies as he seats himself beside her, “I’m happy to give you that second cup.”

“I’m happy to have it with you.” 

She says it before her brain can catch up with her mouth. It’s hardly that loaded of a statement, and somewhere in the back of her head, Katie knows that - but it doesn’t stop her from blushing, and damn-near crimson at that. Where did that come from?

What’s funny, though, is that Bob is blushing too, and just as red as Katie, if not more. It makes her wonder what’s going through his head in that moment. 

He takes a long, drawn-out sip of coffee, likely to help steady his nerves. “Uh, you know… I do this every day. Brew up some coffee, sit down, take some time to relax before class…” He takes another steadying sip of coffee, and the mug trembles in his hand, just the tiniest bit. “It’d be nice to have some company. Y’know, whenever.” 

The words hang in the air, and Katie contemplates them. It’s not like Bob asked her to marry him, but she can tell that even asking for something as low-key as a shared coffee before class is out of his comfort zone. That he’s putting himself out there like this, that he’s doing it for her, no less… 

Katie would be lying if she said her heart didn’t flutter in her chest. 

A small smile graces her face. “Happy to come by whenever,” she finally replies. 

She’s never been so glad to have accepted an invitation. 

***

Thursday rolls around with another round of paired hops and simulated bombing runs. Katie’s up first this time, paired with Fanboy and Halfpint. She’s had time to get her head on straight after Tuesday’s less-than-stellar hop with Melendez - and now? Her head’s more than screwed on straight; it’s a steel trap, a loaded spring ready to explode and execute. She’s pissed at how Tuesday went, and she wants that feeling of competence back. 

She can feel Melendez’s eyes boring into her as she passes by the ready room, can feel her smirking and sneering at her. No doubt she’s thinking there’s going to be a repeat of Tuesday’s hop. Like hell. 

The run winds up being everything Katie expects it to be and hopes for - her, Fanboy, and Halfpint all working together seamlessly and efficiently, zeroing their targets and raining ultra-precise hellfire down on them, getting in and getting out with not a second wasted. It’s everything Tuesday should’ve been, and everything the rest of her time here at TOPGUN will be. 

Needless to say, Melendez is no longer smirking when they all come out of debrief an hour later. 

And that is enough to put a smile on Katie’s face.

***

It’s Friday night, and all Katie wants to do is have a beer. A Deschutes beer, specifically. Something that she knows the Hard Deck doesn’t have on tap - not that she’s really complaining. She’s not in much of a mood to “go out” tonight. 

She could, however, wrangle up a friend or two to occupy the covered patio out back. That has the makings of a good time tonight. 

All she needs to do is grab a six-pack. 

It’s multitasking at its finest as she grabs her wallet and taps out a quick text to Bob. “Any interest in drinking tonight?” she asks him casually. “I’m about to head over to the NEX to get some beer.” 

The reply comes back sooner than Katie thought it would. “Funny you mention that; I’m actually at the NEX right now. What do you want? I can grab it for you.”

Huh. Well how about that. 

“Do they have Deschutes there?”

“I’ll take a look. What’s your plan b if they don’t?”

“Uhhhhhh Kona beer? If they have Longboard or Hanalei then that’ll work.”

“On it. I’ll let you know when I’m on my way back.”

“Sweet, sounds good.”

Well, that was easy enough. All Katie needs to do now is wrangle up some more company. 

She swaps over to her chat thread with Fanboy, begins to type. “Feel like drinking on the back patio tonight? Bob’s grabbing beer at the NEX; if you want anything I can text him and tell him to grab it for you.” 

She’s slipping an old red hooded flannel over her t-shirt when she gets a reply back from Fanboy - a picture, says the notification. When she opens the message, laughter bursts from her. Fanboy’s sent her a picture of himself jutting his thumb over his shoulder - and who happens to be standing behind him, holding up a six-pack of Shiner Bock and making a face for the camera? 

None other than Bob. 

“Wayyyyy ahead of u fam,” he replies in a second text. “Also Bob says they got deschutes here. They got fresh squeezed IPA and squeezy rider IPA.” 

“Ooooooooh definitely Squeezy Rider. Please and thank you.” 

“Bet. Grab us a spot downstairs? We’ll be back in 10.” 

“Will do.”

Without another word or text sent, Katie trots off for the elevator and makes her way downstairs, shuffling through the lobby to the back patio area, which is lit by the soft glow of brass torches. Coupled with several cushy seats in the area and the soft crash of the tide in the near distance, it provides just the right amount of relaxation and ambience for an easy Friday night in. 

She folds herself into one of the lounge chairs, starts up one of her quieter shoegaze playlists, smiling to herself. Yeah, this was definitely a good call for tonight. 

True to their word, Fanboy and Bob come waltzing through the door ten minutes later, each with beers in one hand and what looks like a bag of snacks in the other. For Fanboy, it’s Takis and mini pretzels. For Bob, it’s cool ranch flavored sunflower seeds and smoked mini sausages. Sure, it’s not the most inspired bunch of snacks - but food is food, and Katie is glad they at least had the thought to get some. 

“You’re a peach,” Katie beams when Bob comes over and hands off the coveted six-pack to her. “How much do I owe you?” 

Bob waves the question off and shakes his head. “Don’t worry about it.”

“No, c’mon, lemme pay you back-”

“Sand Trap, seriously, it’s fine.” He grins at Katie as he takes the lounge seat opposite hers, all nice and easygoing and good-natured, but the glint in his eyes makes it clear that the issue is no longer up for discussion. 

Well. Bob might not have taken very well to growing up in the South, but he sure as hell has the ‘southern gentleman’ mannerisms down pat. Isn’t that nice. 

Still, Katie can’t help but grumble. “Fine, but I’m buying next time.” She settles back in her seat, twists off the top on beer number one. She doubts he’ll let her pay for whatever it is they buy next time, but damned if she’s not going to try. 

“Yeah,” Bob hums around his first bottle of Shiner Bock, “we’ll see about that.” 

“I’m sure we will.” Yep, she was right about that one. Not giving it up that easily. Not that it’s a bad thing. Katie likes a guy with a sense of chivalry. “Pass me some of those sausages.”

Bob obliges, holding out the open bag to her, and she grabs a handful and fastens one between her lips. It’s punchy, full of minced hatch chilis and spice, a nice counter to the languid citrus haze of her beer. Not bad for cheap snack food from the NEX. 

“These are good,” she murmurs after a bite of sausage and a swallow of beer. “I’m gonna have to start buying these.” A snicker bubbles out of her mouth after a second. “Maybe that’s how I’ll repay you, Bob - just buy you a giant bag of hatch chili sausages.”

“Sand Trap-”

“Oh, c’mon Bob, I gotta repay you somehow! Lemme be nice!” Katie laughs, giggles tremoring in her chest as she takes another swill of beer. “Lemme be your friend and repay the favor.”

“You’re a plenty good enough friend without having to buy me stuff.”

And so the banter circles, and circles, and circles again. Katie’s not going to lie, it’s tiresome - but she keeps it up all the same. After all, it’s nice seeing Bob relax, nice seeing him engage in the dumb antics and arguments most others get themselves into. 

It’s nice seeing him comfortable. 

Speaking of being comfortable…

“Hey Bob?”

“Mmm?”

“You can call me Katie.” She can feel Fanboy’s amused side-eye boring into her the second she says it, but she doesn’t give a damn. Bob’s been her friend long enough; he’s certainly earned the privilege. 

His blue eyes glimmer behind his glasses, and the corners of them crinkle in time with the grin that spreads across his face. He says nothing, but he doesn’t have to - the look on his face says everything. 

“What about me? Can I call you Katie?”

“Loser - we literally established this the day we met!” 

“I know, but I wanted to get in on the moment! It was too cute to pass up!”

“You are the absolute worst,” Katie snickers before flicking a bottle cap in Fanboy’s direction. 

And there the three of them sit, drinking well into the wee hours of the night, snarking and poking fun at each other, vibing, laughing, living, basking. 

Few things truly are better than drinking with one’s fellow aviators. 

***

Week 3. Coffee with Bob in his hotel room at 0630 is a fairly daily occurrence now. Katie makes a note in her head that Monday morning to get her hands on some good coffee beans later in the day. It seems like the only proper ‘thank you’ for the man who’s been sharing his small supply of caffeine with her this past week. 

They’re sitting at his counter, scribbling their last little bits of homework before the day starts, sipping from their mugs while the usual coffeehouse jazz streams from his computer. Katie should be kicking herself for not having this done the night before, but she can’t be bothered to care too much. If anything, doing it now gives her a chance to cross-check things afterwards with Bob. 

Or so she says. 

“Y’know, it really is fascinating, what you can accomplish when you procrastinate,” Katie muses. 

“If stress and anxiety weren’t side effects of it, I’d do it more often.”

“Agreed. Although I’m not sure what you have to be stressed or anxious about. You’re easily the smartest guy in our class. If anything, I feel like this whole thing should be a slam dunk for you.”

Bob shrugs. “It’s only easy because I have my setup to worry about, nothing else. Point, shoot, done. You, on the other hand, have my ultimate respect because you do that AND fly at the same time.”

“I don’t think I’m very good at it, though. I’m doing my damnedest to prove my worth, but… I dunno.” Katie’s lips purse as she looks down at her work, scribbles in her final notes. “Honest truth? I dunno how I even wound up here. There are definitely way better pilots out there. They’d be more deserving of a spot here than me.” She’s stopped writing at this point, gaze downcast and jaw clenching tighter and tighter. God, how it pains her to admit that, but she knows it’s true. She’s been told that her whole life; it’s not like she can just wipe it from her mind, her entire existence. Hell, she heard it from Melendez last week. No amount of anger, hard work, or successful hops can erase that.

Why do you bother? You’re not good enough. You’ll never be good enough for them, Katherine Mae… They don’t know you like I do…

They don’t love you like I do.  

“Well, I think that’s a crock of shit,” Bob declares, voice cutting through the poison swirling in Katie’s head. “You’re a hell of a pilot, Sand Trap; someone clearly thought you deserve to be here. And I know that whoever sent you here, they’re not the only one thinking that.”

“Oh yeah? You one of those other people?” Katie mutters. 

There’s a beat of silence. Then…

“Yeah, actually, I am.”

Katie blinks, looks over at Bob, finds herself looking into his eyes, that endless stretch of cerulean. There’s an earnestness in them that makes her stomach clench and her breath hitch, just the tiniest bit. It’s not often that she hears serious reassurance like that. In fact, it’s rare, so rare that Katie finds herself at a bit of a loss for words. Or proper response. Or anything, really, because not only is it coming from a colleague of hers, it’s coming from him, from Bob, and how the fuck is she supposed to react to that, to someone like him actually giving a shit? 

She feels her face growing hot, burning red. She drops her head down, low enough so that he can’t see the embarrassment scorching across it. “Thanks,” she mumbles. 

Out of the corner of her eye, she sees Bob smile. “I’d fly with you any day of the week and twice on Sunday, Sand Trap.” 

Her whole body is burning now, and whether it’s with pride, pleasure, or shame, she’s not sure. Whatever the case may be, it’s a first for her.

She needs to speak. That’s what she needs to do. 

It’s on the tip of her tongue to tell Bob ‘thank you’, to say some sort of one-and-done pleasantry - but all she can think to say, in that exact moment, is…

“Thought I told you to call me Katie, Bob.” 

Though he seems momentarily taken aback by the answer (maybe he was anticipating her saying ‘thank you’ too), Bob chuckles, his cheeks tinted with the barest hint of red. 

“I’ll keep that in mind from now on, Katie.” 

This time, Katie doesn’t even try to hide her face when heat tears across her cheeks. Something about Bob using her first name the way that he does, so innocent and personal… It does something to her. What the hell’s happening to her?

She coughs, cobbles her things together and tosses them into her black backpack. “We don’t, um… have that much time left before class. I’m just - I’m - um, I’m gonna go-” It’s abrupt, out of nowhere, and certainly nowhere near the calm, cool, and easygoing responses she usually gives, and all she wants to do immediately after saying it is kick herself, because Jesus Christ, could she look like any more of a psychotic dweeb? 

Bob, poor thing, seems just as confused. “Okay… Um… Guess I’ll see you in class then.” 

Katie’s bolting out of the room and shutting the door behind her before ‘yep’ has even passed her lips. She doesn’t want to stick around long enough for him to see the internal meltdown she’s about to suffer. He definitely doesn’t need to see that. 

“Seriously, Katie?” she hisses to herself as she marches down the hallway to the elevators. “What the fuck was that? He used your first name - after you LITERALLY told him to! Could you have reacted any more weirdly to that?” 

Well, I don’t know - when was the last time you let yourself entertain ANY sort of male attention? Especially from someone that you, oh, I don’t know, MIGHT HAVE AN INTEREST IN?

Could she, though? Could she really? 

No, Katie decides - no, insists - in the elevator ride down to the lobby. She and Bob are friends, nothing more. That’s the way it will be - the way it has to be.

Anything more than that and she risks opening wounds and exposing truths that should never see the light of day.

She shakes her head with a quiet snarl, makes her way out of the lodge and off to her car.

She’s gonna have to have a long conversation with herself when she’s done with everything for the day - a very fucking long one. 

***

It’s Tuesday evening, a late one. Katie’s been staring at the same piece of instruction on aerial bombing maneuvers for the last half hour now and none of the information has absorbed into her brain. Whether it’s due to the late hours or the fact that it’s fairly complex material, it’s refusing to stick - and Katie is rapidly losing her patience with it. 

With a huff of exasperated resignation, she tosses the paper away with no concern about where it lands, and thumps back against her bed’s headboard. What use is there in trying to force memorization? At this point she’s been reading and rereading the same three sentences with no clue of what they’re saying. Better to just say ‘fuck it’ for the night and pick up where she left off tomorrow, when her brain - and patience - is refreshed. 

She lets her eyes slide shut with a sigh, thoughts tapering off into nothingness, welcoming the call of a peaceful night’s sleep…

Until the sound of her phone buzzing, rattling on the nightstand jars her awake again.

The phone continues to buzz on the nightstand, her sister’s name and number scrolling across the screen. Katie frowns. Naomi’s talkative, sure, but she’s not really the type to reach out with a phone call - not unless there’s something going on. What could be going on at close to 2230 on a Tuesday, Katie’s not sure, but she hopes it’s nothing too serious.

She rolls over, grabs the phone off the nightstand, accepts the call. “Hey kiddo, what’s up?”

“Katherine.”

Katie’s stomach lurches and her blood runs cold. Her. Oh god, her. 

It’s a fight to maintain composure, to not fly into a seething, furious rage at the mere sound of her voice. Four years since she last saw her and Katie’s still licking the wounds from her last encounter with her. This bitch is the last person she wants to talk to. 

“Carrie.”

She makes a sound on the other end - a ‘tut’ of disdain, Katie realizes. Jesus - is she actually thinking of scolding her, of shaming her?”

“‘Carrie’? Is that any way to address the woman who gave birth to you? I-”

“You lost that ‘mom’ title a long time ago and you know it,” she hisses before immediately closing her eyes and clenching her jaw. Fuck, fuck fuck fuck, she can’t be snapping like that. It’s how she pulls her into her bullshit; it’s how she’s always done it. Katie needs to calm down, and fast. 

She inhales through her nose, exhales forcefully, grips the phone tight in her hand, evens her breathing and pitch. “What do you want?”

“Well, I want to talk to you,” Carrie replies, as if the answer is obvious. “I just found out that my oldest daughter’s on the West Coast; why else would I be calling?”

“Did it ever occur to you that maybe I don’t want to talk to you?” No, of course not, Katie thinks. This is her mother; the only person she’s ever paid close attention to is herself. The feelings and boundaries of her kids don’t matter to her. They never have. 

“Why would you say something so horrible? What have I done to deserve that?”

Katie doesn’t even try to swallow her cackle of incredulity. “Are you serious? Do you want a list of all the shit you’ve done? I mean Jesus Carrie, you stole Naomi’s phone to get to me!”

“Let me remind you that I pay the bills in this family, and that includes the one for your sister’s phone. I may allow her to use it, but this is MY phone, understand?”

She’s pulling her into her bullshit already; Katie can feel it. Her immediate response should be to cut her off and end the conversation right here, just like she’s done countless times before - and yet, she can’t. It’s been a long week and it’s not even over yet. She’s tired, her guard is down, and after the last two minutes, her blood pressure is climbing and threatening to spill over. If anyone should know how pissed off and exhausted she is, it’s Carrie. 

“Do you hear yourself? What kind of fucked up ‘no privacy’ bullshit are you on?”

“Oh, don’t you lecture me, Katherine Mae. I do what I do to keep this family together. And if this is what I have to do to keep my other daughter from abandoning it like you did, then so be it.” 

Oh, that’s it. That’s fucking it. Katie’s not doing this anymore. 

“Well, you clearly haven’t changed, so I no longer feel compelled to keep this conversation going.” 

“Katherine, don’t you dare-”

“I’m done, Carrie. Give Naomi her phone back and don’t call me again.” 

Katie then disconnects the call before Carrie has the chance to protest, the action decisive, unwavering, final. She should’ve ended that call a long time ago, and she knows she’ll be kicking herself for it later, but she’s out of it now and that’s all that matters. That bitch isn’t getting to her anymore tonight; she won’t let her. 

But goddamn, did she come close to it. 

Worse still, Katie knows it probably won’t be the only time that it happens - that Carrie finds ways to pull her back into her lies and abuse. This is only the start. And though she might’ve had the strength to shut Carrie down this time, there’s no guarantee that she’ll have it for the next run-in with her. 

And that? That scares Katie. It scares the living shit out of her. 

She needs an escape. Now. Before the memories threaten to consume her. 

She slips in her Airpods, puts on Drop Nineteens’ Kick the Tragedy, cranks the volume to drown out the voices and nightmares swirling in her head, and pulls her knees tight to her chest, trembling. 

It’s a position she stays locked in for the rest of the night. 

***

“Does this instruction make any sense to you or am I just stupid?” 

Katie’s currently sitting at a corner table in the buffet area with Bob, surrounded by notebooks, scattered sheets of paper, and small stacks of flight manuals. The piece of instruction Katie’s currently focused on is the same one from the night before, but she’s reading and poring over it with a renewed sense of determination (and spite, if she’s being honest) - or, at least, she’s trying to. It’s still as dense and heavy as when she last read it and it’s still not willing to stick in her brain. 

She groans loudly when Bob glances over at the paper and shakes his head, thumps her head into her forearms. “I’m so fucked for this test on Friday,” she moans. “This is 65 percent of what we’re being tested on and I can’t” - thump - “fucking” - thump - “understand it.” 

“Maybe put it down then, focus on something else?” 

“I dunno. Maybe. My brain’s soup at this point.”

“Hm.” Bob drums his fingers contemplatively on the tabletop, seems to rack his brain for a solution. It isn’t until he glances down at the watch fastened around his wrist, though, that he comes up with something - and that ‘something’ involves him packing up all their study materials, rising to his feet, and gently pulling Katie to her feet by her elbow. 

At first, she’s confused. “What are you doing?”

“Stopping for the night. We’ve been at this for the last four hours and it’s almost 11.”

“So?”

“So, that would explain why you’re having a hard time absorbing material,” Bob explains. “You’re tired; your brain’s not gonna absorb much when you’re tired.”

He says it so calmly, so simply. Fuck, it is simple, and Katie knows it. But, somewhere in the back of her mind… she can’t bring herself to go along with it. She’s a fighter pilot. More importantly, she’s a 1% fighter pilot in arguably the most challenging course the Navy has to offer. She should be soaking this material up, not getting stuck on the particulars of two-man air-to-surface strikes, literally the simplest shit. What kind of pilot is she if she can’t even figure this out? A lousy one, that’s what-

“Katie.”

Bob’s voice seems to melt through the nagging in her head, rendering it to little more than a whisper. She blinks, slowly, drifts back into reality, her very tired, very sleep-deprived reality. 

Okay. Maybe he has a point. Exhaustion is definitely doing a number on her. 

But hell if she’s going to admit it out loud. 

Somewhat thankfully, Bob seems to pick up on that reluctance and speaks for her. “Here, I’ll walk you up.” He reaches a hand out, as if to touch her, but seems to think better of it after a second and pulls it back, choosing instead to nod in the direction of the elevators. “C’mon.” 

They’re quiet as he escorts Katie up to the third floor and down the corridors to her room. When they finally come to a stop at her door, the exhaustion has set in with a swiftness and intensity she hasn’t seen since she was in OCS. She wonders briefly how she ever managed to power through it.

Bob takes her key card, swipes it across the reader and opens the door for her. “Get some sleep,” he tells her, voice soft. “I’ll hit you up in the morning, ‘kay?”

Katie nods mutely, steps over the threshold, allows Bob to pull the door closed. The exhaustion is weighing on her so heavily now that she doesn’t even react when it thuds shut more loudly than she’s used to. 

Bob’s right - she really does need to sleep. 

She trudges into her bedroom, fingers fumbling as she sets an alarm for 0600, then tosses the phone on the nightstand and falls face-first into the bed. She’s asleep seconds after her head hits the pillow, but not before her thoughts give a final whirl ‘round the study material, her pride in being a pilot, and her soft-spoken, bespectacled WSO classmate - the one who will be there for her in the morning. 

And sure enough, he is, for when Katie wakes up the next day at 06, there’s a single-word text waiting for her in her messages:

“Coffee?”

***

Two days later, after an extended study session with Bob and Fanboy the night before, Katie walks out of the test on Friday with two errors shy of a perfect score. The ironic part? The errors were on material completely unrelated to what she’d been stressing over two days ago. 

When she tells Bob and Fanboy as much on their way back to the lodge, they each respond with a shake of their head and a quiet laugh. 

“See, smartypants?” Fanboy says. “Told ya you’d be fine. Gotta learn to trust yourself more.” 

“Yeah, I’m working on that. Celebratory beer at the Hard Deck later?” 

“Don’t have to convince me.” Fanboy looks over at Bob, raises a questioning, but friendly eyebrow at him. “You tagging along or are you laying low?” 

“I mean, I gotta take a nap and catch up on the sleep I lost last night,” Bob replies casually, “but, uh… I could be persuaded.” He looks directly at Katie when he says the last part, making it abundantly clear that if anyone’s going to persuade him, it’s going to be her. 

And goddamn, if that doesn’t set the butterflies afrenzy in her stomach.

“Yeah, I’ll, uh, I’ll let you know what’s going on.” Katie’s attempt at replying in equally casual fashion is damn-near a failure; the pitch of her voice squeaks higher with each word she speaks. She’s not sure why it’s happening, but speaking or replying to Bob these days seems to be doing a number on her nerves. “Honestly, I’m probably gonna take a nap too; I’m feeling kinda’ dead.” 

“How late did you guys stay up after I left?” Fanboy asks them quizzically. 

Katie shakes her head. “Trust me, you don’t wanna know.” She herself is running on five hours of sleep; nerves and stress made it difficult for her to rack out at her usual time, wiring her awake well into the wee hours of the morning. A nap is an absolute necessity at this point if she has any desire to socialize later. “Meet up in the lobby in a couple hours?”

Bob nods. “Works for me.” 

The three of them pile into Katie’s 4Runner and putter their way back to the lodge, Catherine Wheel thrumming from the speakers as the mid-afternoon sun brightens the world around them. Were it not for the fact that she wants to be horizontal for her nap, Katie would be damn tempted to put her seat back and catch up on sleep in the warmth of her car.  

Bob splits off from Fanboy and Katie in the parking lot, leaving the two of them to stroll into the lobby together and ride an elevator up to their respective floors. For the most part, it’s quiet, comfortably shared silence between two friends. It’s short-lived, however; just before the elevator dings to a stop at his floor, Fanboy leans in towards Katie, eyebrow quirked inquiringly, smugly. 

“So, not a whole lotta sleep between you two… Was that all code for something and I just completely missed it, or-”

“Fanboy, I swear to God-”

Fanboy only snickers before splitting off for his room on the second floor, leaving Katie alone and red-faced in the elevator. Jesus Christ - if he keeps making comments like that, she might actually have to kill him. 

“‘Code for something’...” Katie mutters when the elevator reaches the third floor and she stomps off to her room. “Fucking menace.” If she didn’t know any better, she’d say that Fanboy was actively trying to push her and Bob together. 

Whatever. She’s not going to dedicate anymore thought to it, no sir - especially when she’s tired and still coming down from the stress of their test earlier. 

She loosens her laces and kicks off her flight boots, falling into the mattress with her hair still bunned and flight suit still zipped, settling in for some sleep that practically blacks her out for the next few hours. 

Later, after a nice, long, well-deserved nap and some dedicated relaxation time, the three of them are clustered around a high-top table at the Hard Deck, a small bowl of salted peanuts in the middle, beers of various brands in hand as they muse about their first three weeks at TOPGUN. They decide that, for as hard and as break-neck fast as it’s been going, all in all, it hasn’t been a bad experience so far. They’re conditions befitting their jobs - and lord knows, it hasn’t been boring. 

“Kinda’ makes me worry, though,” Bob murmurs. “We’re only three weeks in and it’s already been a helluva challenge. What are the other ten gonna be like?” 

Fanboy snorts, takes a swill of his pilsner. “You’re not telling me you’re scared, are you?”

“Apprehensive is more like it.”

“Eh, same difference. Not like you need to be scared though. It’s obvious you’re top brain in the class. You’ll get through this shit just fine.” 

“Yeah, so I’ve been told.” Bob’s eyes dart over to Katie for the briefest moment, holding her gaze for an even briefer moment before returning to the bottle in his hand. “I’m just waiting to see where Everhardt takes us next, and, y’know, trying to prepare myself for it.” 

“Understandable.” 

“I mean, if the next ten weeks are anything like the last three, just assume he’s gonna try to run us into the ground and proceed from there,” Katie shrugs. “I’ve already resigned myself to getting my ass handed to me; you might as well do the same.”

“Says the girl who aced her test earlier,” Fanboy scoffs. 

“Almost aced her test earlier.”

“Oh whatever. You’re smart. You’ll be fine. Fuck, you’ll both be fine; you guys’ll probably take the top two spots.”

“Well, I’m certainly gonna try,” Bob murmurs with a bashful smile. “Can’t be helped if I get bested by this girl over here though.”

Fanboy shakes his head and sighs, but he does it with a smirk on his face. “This guy…”

“Nah, you’ll definitely best me, Bob; there’s no question about it.”

“We’ll see about that,” he replies. “May the best aviator win.”

“I’ll drink to that.” Katie raises her bottle. “While we’re at it, here’s to making it through air-to-surface.”

“And the first three weeks,” Fanboy chimes in as he raises his. 

Bob’s the last to raise his, and his accompanying sentiment really rounds the evening out. “Onward to the next and best.”

Clink. 

@thestagsheadsblog @everything-i-love-in-life @luckyladycreator2 @docdetective @airedale17

[frostbeees]

can we get an itid snippet🥺

well i suppose <3 i didn't get anything written today bc i've been sick (hello norovirus) but my fever is finally breaking sooo.

here's a little moment between thom and his sister. this takes place before the rookie showcase in DC (and after the breakup). sorry this is kind of a long one but it was too hard to trim it down bc i just LOVE this part

“You worried about having to spend time with Brendan again or is something else bothering you?” Jade asks as she picks through the pile of clothes closest to her, choosing pieces that she apparently thinks Thom needs to take with him as she places them into the suitcase. 

Thom drops the toothbrush he had just grabbed from his bathroom and it clatters to the ground. She’s always been blunt about feelings-talks and he wasn’t not expecting this to come up eventually but he definitely wasn’t expecting it today. 

“Okay so the first one,” she says, brow furrowed as she tries to read him from across the room. “Wanna talk about it?”

“Why would you even think that?” Thom asks carefully, trying to call her bluff. She doesn’t fold.

“You left for Cali in such a good mood and you came back in the form of a little storm cloud. We’ve all been tiptoeing around you for weeks and mom’s been bugging me to talk to you. Also, I’m pretty sure I saw you crying in your car in the driveway the other day when I was getting ready to leave for training so obviously something is up. You can talk to me about it, you know.” 

Thom takes in a deep breath. His chest rattles a little like maybe he’s coming down with something, a slight wheeze to the inhale. Maybe that would explain the tickle in his throat getting worse. 

“It’s—” Thom starts, pausing to shove a pile of clothes off the bed and onto the floor so he can flop down with his head near Jade’s legs. Her hand goes to his hair immediately which is exactly what he was hoping for, scratching softly against his scalp and sliding through to the ends. “He broke up with me. Or, well. I ended it with him before he could break up with me, I guess. I don’t fucking know. Either way, it’s over. He made it very clear he doesn’t feel the same way about me as I do about him.”

“Oh honey,” Jade slides down the bed and pulls Thom against her chest, arms firmly wrapped around him and his chest heaves as the tears finally break free and start falling steadily. “Fuck him then, honestly. You’re the best and if he can’t see that, then he doesn’t deserve you.”

She’s just like their mom: soft and warm and welcoming with a touch of spice when needed. She’d probably fly to California to tackle Brendan in a way that would get her immediately booted from a game. That’s the only difference between Jade and their mom, really. Chantal has a sharp tongue. She can tear someone down in such a way that leaves them thanking her and then crying later. Jade, on the other hand, isn’t afraid to do a little physical beatdown when needed. Thom has the scars to prove it.

“Yeah, fuck him.” Thom’s a snotty mess against Jade’s soft sweatshirt but she makes no move to push him away or get up so he lets his little sister hold him until the tears dry up and his breathing steadies again.

He doesn’t mean it though, about Brendan. He doesn’t tell Jade that, too afraid of her trying to knock some sense in him or running off to get their mom involved if she thinks Thom’s being stupid. But it’s true. He still loves Brendan more than anyone he’s ever loved before. He’s still fucking pissed at him, but if Brendan called right this second and asked Thom to come back out to Manhattan Beach? To be with him again? Thom would go, easy.  

Jade doesn’t push him to talk about it anymore though. When Thom finally gets himself pulled back together he goes back to packing his bag and Jade sticks around for a while longer. Eventually, though,  she gets bored and leaves, but not before getting in another tight hug and securing a promise from Thom that they’ll get the good bagels for breakfast in the morning before he heads to the airport. 

[bastionbibi]

Hi it’s the Drabble Anon again thank you and I’m glad that you like the little stories I made and it’s okay if you don’t answer or read it immediately, take as much time as you need. I made a few more stories than usual so I hope you enjoy and have a good day/night, the first is picking up from the swapover au as I dub it:

Conan frowns as he’s dropped back to Mouri’s office, pondering the events that unfolded this night; He told the police about the Labradorite mirror shattering when Kaitou Kid pulled it out of the safe which was further proven when a piece of the broken gemstone was found in the outskirts of the building and the strange man in black that appeared afterwards whom the thief escaped with. However, he didn’t mention what Kaitou Kid exclaimed out loud upon seeing him, or how Conan noticed the similarities between Phantom Magician and a certain British detective he’d met a few times. But it can’t be Hakuba, when Conan asked where he is, Inspector Nakamori said that he’s still in England, yet his hair looks so similar and even Kaitou Kid sees the resemblance. So is it a doppelgänger? If so, why act like some gentleman thief and appear out of nowhere. Conan checked the entire room and there’s no evidence of a hidden door or any of that sort anywhere. It’s as if he appeared out of nowhere like magic..

No! Magic doesn’t exist at all, it must be some trick! Yet there’s too many loose threads and disconnected puzzle pieces to form a coherent picture. The best Conan could deduce was that pulling the Labradorite mirror out of the safe must have caused it to shatter. It was a custom safe made of tempered glass so that people can still look at it while it’s secured and safe but why would anyone resort to such an extreme measure to ensure that Kaitou Kid doesn’t get his hands on it?

Sighing, Conan climbs up the stairs, yawning as he announces that he’s home only for his voice to die in his throat when he saw the scene before him. He rubbed his eyes to check if it’s just his tired mind playing tricks on him but nope, there are two Rans in the office, both looking identical to the other with the exception of one having her hair tied into a low ponytail. He struggled to form words, only managing to splutter out, “Eeeh?! R-Ran-neesan? Who’s this?”

“Ah, Conan! I- well it’s kinda hard to explain!” Ran says, waving her hands around before composing herself and gesturing towards the other, “This is, well… My other me! It’s hard to believe but it’s true, she’s also Ran from another world! We agreed for her to be called Rachel for the time being. Rachel, this is Conan, the boy I talked about who lives here with me and dad.”

The other Ran, Rachel waved and was about to greet herself before blinking and narrowing her eyes at Conan, “You look a lot like Shinichi…”

Panic seized Conan’s chest, filing the fact that even their voices are exactly the same for later as he puts on his best kid impression in pure instinct, “Al-le-le?! N-no, I’m not Shinichi-niisan! I’m Conan, Edogawa Conan! Sh-Shinichi-niisan is way bigger, and I’m really, really short!!”

“I never said that you were Shinichi.” Rachel said, her eyes narrowing even more but thankfully, Ran came to the rescue, “Ah, Conan is actually a distant relative of Shinichi’s mom and Professor Agasa! That’s why he looks alike to Shinichi.”

“Huh? But…” Rachel frowns, clearly contemplating but by the grace of whatever deity is out there, she dropped it, smiling as she bent down and clasped her hands together into an apology, “I see, I’m sorry that I scared you Conan-Kun, I guess I misunderstood things.”

“It’s okay Rachel-neesan!” Conan reassured with a bright smile, mentally wheezing out in relief that his identity wasn’t blown. Thankfully it was also then that Mouri came back, announcing that he already finished setting up the rooms to sleep in for the night.

Conan immediately fell asleep due to exhaustion of the latest heist, filing all the things that happened for tomorrow for him to figure out when he woke up to voices in the office a few hours later. Tired yet intrigued, he carefully creaked open the door which was enough for him to hear the conversation.

“I’m sorry, I’m grateful for you housing me even though I’m not entirely your daughter, or I guess I’m just not the daughter you know-“

“Rachel. I don’t care what weird sci-fi magic bullcrap brought you here but no matter what universe you’re from or if you’re related to me by blood or not, you will always be my daughter and as such, you’ll always be family. Got it? And I swear to you, we will get you home no matter what, I promise.”

“.. Yeah, thanks pops. I think I needed to hear that.”

“Pops?! Why Pops?!”

Conan smiled as he closed the door and went back to sleep, leaving the two to their late night conversation.

Hi again, drabble anon!!! 

I’m always here for more stories! Let’s get into it, I can’t wait!

Ha! What i find kinda disappointing about detco is their inflexibility when it comes to anything ‘supernatural’, so to be forced to accept something just isn’t… right is nice. 

Honestly conan is taking this better than I expected?? I would’ve passed out if I see two version right next to each other like that lmaoo 

ALSO LOVE HOW THE OTHER VERSION OF RAN IS A LOT SHARPER!! (Or at least, less in denial bc im sure canon ran should’ve known the truth by now… but that’s another story.) 

Hehehe kogoro being a good dad for once that’s great. Tho I wonder how Rachel is going to act now tho, I hope she calls Conan out on his bullshit soon 👀, like she doesn’t have to clue the others on it but 👀

[waitimcomingtoo]

Malevolent As I’ve Ever Been

Pairing: Peter Parker x Venom!reader

Synopsis: Venom!reader in scenes of no way home

Masterlist

First police interrogation

“Oh good, you’re here. Thanks for coming in, miss L/n.” The first officer said as he sat across from you in the interrogation room.

“You forcibly removed me from my home.” You said flatly.

“I’m officer Stacy.” He continued. “I’m sure you know why you’re here.”

“I’m sure I don’t.”

“Have you requested a lawyer?” He asked you.

“I don’t need one.” You shrugged. “I haven’t committed any crimes.”

The detective gave you a strange look before opening up the Manila folder. He spread the contents of the folder out on the table and slid them towards you.

“Are you aware that you’re connected to the murders of Dora Skirth, Carlton Drake, Cleatus Kassidy, Frances Barrison, Roland Treece, Maria Gustavo, Sam Medina, and the disappearance of Detective Patrick Mulligan?” Officer Stacy asked you. You stared at the photos in front of you, momentarily caught off guard by your past. Not wanting to look phased, you gave a simply shrug and folded your arms.

“Yes, I am aware.” You said simply. “But connected is not that same as convicted, my guy.”

“Right. Can you explain this photo?” Officer Stacy asked as he slid a picture of you in mid air as you hopped a fence at the Life Foundation. You recognized it as the time you broke into the foundation and first bonded with Venom, but Officer Stacy didn’t need to know that.

“That’s not me.”

“That’s not you?” He raised an eyebrow.

“No.” You shook up head. Officer Stacy sighed and pulled some more pages out of your unfortunately thick file.

“You are also connected to the San Quentin prison riot, the St. Estes fire, the motorcycle chase in San Francisco that left several injured and dead, the explosion at the Life Foundation, and the collapse of the Grace cathedral. Just to name a few.” Officer Stacy continued. You silently stared at the pile of evidence that had been culminating against you and folded your arms.

“I would like a lawyer.”

In an interrogation room a few rooms over, Peter was being questioned by a group of police officers. He was already freaking out and felt even more anxious when he saw May walking through the station.

“Why is my aunt here?” Peter asked. “She had nothing to do with this. She wasn’t even in London when it all happened.”

“Relax, Parker.” An Officer snorted. “We brought your Aunt and friends in for some questioning.”

“You brought my friends in? But they’re completely innocent.” Peter insisted.

“We are questioning Ned Leeds and Y/n L/n right now to see if you’re right.” Another officer spoke up, making Peter’s heart stop.

“Wait, you left Y/n alone with a bunch of cops?” He asked with wide eyes.

“Don’t worry. The big bad police officers are not gonna hurt your little girlfriend.” An Officer laughed meanly.

“Yeah, I know.” Peter scoffed. “My little girlfriend is gonna hurt the big bad police officers.”

Back in your interrogation room, you had several police officers plastered to the wall with Venom’s tendrils. You had Officer Stacy dangling upside down in front of you as you asked him some questions of your own.

“Where is Peter?” You demanded.

“We can’t tell you.” He wheezed, face going red as all the blood rushed to his head.

“Then I’m gonna swallow you whole and shit you out!” You growled as your sharp teeth came out. An officer broke away from the wall and made a break for the door but you quickly snatched him up.

“Where do you think you’re going? No one’s leaving until you tell me where my boyfriend is.” You warned as you pulled the officer over to you with a long black tendril.

“He’s detained. You can’t see him.” The officer said in a strained voice as your tendril tightened around him.

“There’s no such thing as can’t.” You said as Venom enveloped your body. You opened your mouth and were about to bite his head off when you heard a familiar voice.

“Y/n!” Peter called through the doorway. Venom immediately went back inside and you dropped all the police officers to the ground.

“Peter!” You smiled sweetly and ran out of the room. You hugged him tightly and kissed his face as the officers you’d been holding captive rubbed their arms and heads.

“Are you okay? May told me they just showed up without warning.” You frowned as you rubbed his cheek comfortingly.

“I’m okay.” He assured you. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. Can’t say the same for the cop who tried to handcuff me.” You grimaced and nodded towards an Officer that was walking with a limp.

“We bit his ankle.” Venom told Peter.

“Yeah. Full disclosure, I may be detained overnight. Fuller disclosure, I think I’m a wanted criminal. But we can talk about that later. All that matters right now is you.” You sighed and pulled Peter into another hug.

“I’m so sorry about this. How did they even get you here?“ Peter mumbled against your shoulder.

“They showed up at my door and I cooperated.” You shrugged.

“We had to shoot 6 elephant tranquilizers into her.” Officer Stacy grumbled as he walked past you. You gave him a death stare and pulled one of the remaining darts out of your butt.

“I’m just glad you’re okay. Can we go home now?” Peter asked you.

“You can. I am actively being arrested.” You kept your smile as one of the officers put your hands behind your back.

“Oh my God.” Peter said as he watched you get handcuffed.

“It’s okay. I’ll be out in 24 hours. They really don’t want you biting cops. Who knew?” You laughed as they led you away.

Meeting with a lawyer

“Well thank you, Mr. Murdock. I feel a lot better about this now that Peter’s out of legal trouble.” May sighed and rubbed Peter’s back.

“Can we talk in your room for a second?” You bent down and whispered in Peter’s ear. He thanked Matt one more time before following you to his bedroom.

“What did you want to talk about?” Peter asked nervously as he sat down on his bed. After everything he put you through lately, he had a feeling he knew where this conversation was going. Instead, you locked his bedroom door and pushed him back onto his bed. Before he had a chance to ask what you were doing, you were kissing him. He happily kissed you back and let all the drama of the week melt away. You made out on his bed for a while, only pulling away when you needed air.

“Sorry for the ambush. You looked like you could use a distraction.” You chuckled as you rested your chin on his chest.

“I really needed that.” He smiled softly. “Thank you.”

“It’ll be okay, Pete.” You assured him and kissed his cheeks. “I think Mr. Murdock clearing your name is the first step towards things going back to normal. I know this is really hard for you right now but it won’t be hard forever.”

“You’re right. I just hate that it’s hurting so many people. You and Ned didn’t get into college because of me. May has to look for a new place to live because of me. It all got so out of hand.” He sighed and looked away.

“It’s not your fault. You didn’t know your identity being exposed would have this affect.” You said as you combed your fingers through his curls.

“Still. It feels like it’s my fault.” He sighed. “I wish there was more I could do to help. Maybe you can write an article on how unfair MIT is being and get people to call them out.”

You were silent for a minute and rolled off of his chest. Peter looked at you curiously as he pulled you into his side.

“The Daily Bugle kinda fired me.” You admitted as you gave Peter a weak smile.

“Because of me?” He frowned. “They can’t do that.”

“It’s okay. I understand why they did it. I can’t intern at the Daily Bugle and write articles about Spiderman when I’m dating Peter Parker. They would all be biased since I love you so much.” You teased him and kissed his cheek. Despite your efforts to convince him that you weren’t upset, Peter’s frown didn’t budge.

“I’m so sorry.” He sighed. “This is so unfair. I know how much you love to write.”

“It’s fine.” You waved your hand. “There will be more jobs. I already got an interview at the coffee shop at the end of the block. If they ask though, my name is Laura Vatraction.”

“You’re way too talented to be pouring coffee. You should be writing.”

“I’ll write again one day.” You assured him. “Plus, I might love pouring coffee. It could be my new calling.”

“It’s not fair. You shouldn’t have to face the repercussions for my mistake. I’m public enemy #1. Not you.” He grumbled as he stared up at his ceiling.

“If you’re public enemy #1, then I’m public enemy #2. Simple as that.” You said as you brought his face back to yours. He still looked guilty, so you rolled back onto his chest and kissed his face until he stopped frowning.

In the Undercroft

“There was a huge power surge by some phone lines a few miles from here.” Ned read off his computer.

“That must be the guy I saw on the bridge.” Peter realized.

“Okay. You go find the flying green gabagool. I’ll stay here with Ned and…these guys.” You said as you gestured to the villains in captivity.

“Why would you stay here?” Ned wondered. “Shouldn’t you and Venom help Peter?“

“I’m staying here because if doctopus or Barney and friends break free, you’re gonna need some protection.” You replied as you pointed to Doc Oc and the giant lizard.

“No offense, but how would you possibly protect him from us?” Doc Oc asked you from within his cell. Before you could answer, Venom enveloped you and ran over to Doc Oc’s cell.

“What did you say to us, metal octopus man?” Venom growled. “We are the Lethal Protector. We could protect Ned from 10,000 of you. Do you think you and you tiny sunglasses would stand a chance against us and our bulging muscles?”

Venom finished her sentence by pointing an accusatory finger at Doc Oc. She quickly went back inside your body when she was done yelling, leaving you with your finger still pointed at him.

“Oops. Sorry about that.” You laughed sheepishly and put your finger down.

“I’m sorry, did that thing just come out of you?” Doc Oc asked in shock.

“You’re judging me?” You scoffed. “You’re in a floor length trench coat and your fursona is a steampunk octopus.”

“My what?” He titled his head and asked.

“Baby, please don’t explain furries to him right now.” Peter groaned as he pulled on his mask.

“Sorry. Good luck on your mission”. You gave Peter an apologetic smile and blew him a kiss. Once he was gone, you turned back to Doc Oc.

“This isn’t over.” You warned. “And for your information, I have a parasite.”

Meeting the three Peter’s

(I’m gonna use real names to make it less confusing)

“Aw.” You smiled softly as you watched the three Peter’s work in the lab.

“What?” Peter wondered.

“It’s three you’s.” You gushed. “You guys all look so cute in your suits. I need a picture.”

“Honey, not now please.” Peter asked kindly. “We’re really busy. We gotta get those cures done and-“

“Cheese.” Andrew held up a peace sign and smiled for your camera.

“Peter 2 and 3 are cooperating. Why can’t you be more like them?” You playfully scolded Peter. He rolled his eyes before smiling as well.

“So cute.” You grinned and snapped pictures. “So cute.”

“You should show them our suit.” Venom suggested from inside you.

“That’s a great idea!” You gasped and put your phone down.

“What did you say? And to whom?” Andrew looked at you curiously.

“Sorry. I actually wasn’t talking to you. I was talking to the parasite inside me.” You said as if it were the most normal thing in the world.

“What?” He repeated as he exchanged a look with Tobey.

“Don’t worry about it.” You waved your hand. “I have to go get into my suit. I’ll be right back.”

“She has a suit?” Tobey asked Peter.

“It’s a long story.” Peter prefaced. Just then, you walked back into the room in your all black Venom suit.

“Now we all match.” You smiled as you did a little spin.

“Oh wow.” Andrew nodded. “Goth Spiderman.”

“Wait, where did you get that?” Tobey asked when he recognized the black suit.

“Venom made it for me. I honestly think it’s made out of my skin.” You cringed a little as you held out your arms.

“Did you say Venom?” Tobey asked as he touched your suit. Peter watched the physical contact but said nothing.

“Yeah.” You lit up. “You know Venom?”

“Yeah. I had him for a little while.” He recalled. “Those were dark times.”

“Really? You had Venom?” You gasped. “I can’t believe she didn’t kill you. Wait, did you say he?”

“We are gender fluid.” Venom cut in as she came out in her snake like form. Tobey and Andrew looked at Venom in shock, but Peter and Ned were unfazed.

“Huh.” You nodded. “I did not know that about you.”

“I can’t believe you guys are friends.” Tobey remarked. “My venom made me do all these weird, crazy things.”

“You’ve eaten people too?” You whispered with wide eyes.

“What?” Tobey backed away. “You eat people?”

“No.” You said quickly as your eyes darted to the side.

“Yes.” Venom admitted, making you sigh in defeat.

“Oh my God what?” Andrew looked at Peter with a dropped jaw. “Dude, your girlfriend eats people?”

“I try not to think about it.” Peter said as he shut his eyes.

“So this thing just lives inside of you at all times?” Tobey asked.

“Pretty much.” You shrugged.

“And you get along?” Andrew wondered.

“Oh, no.” You chuckled. “She constantly tears down my self esteem. They keep me safe though.”

“That’s nice.” Andrew smiled weakly. “As someone who has never had a venom, as you two put it, I’m curious. How does it work?”

“Do you guys want to try? I could put it inside you.” You offered.

“Oh my God.” Peter hung his head in shame at your choice of words. He already didn’t like his variants fawning over you, and now you were making innuendos.

“No thanks.” Tobey took a step back. “I’ve already had it inside me.”

“Other Peter, what about you? Do you want it inside you?” You asked.

“Yeah, okay.” He nodded. “You could put it inside me.”

“My aunt just died.” Peter reminded everyone.

“Give me your hand. It’s gonna feel a little strange at first but you’ll get used to it.” You said as you took Andrew’s hand.

“I’m so nervous.” Andrew laughed nervously as you turned his arm over.

“Don’t be nervous. I’ll be right here.” You assured Andrew as Venom crept up his arm before disappearing into his skin.

“I hate everything about this.” Peter mumbled to himself.

“Woah. I feel it.” He looked at you incredulously as Venom bonded with him.

“Is it okay?” You asked him.

“It’s kinda cold.” He admitted. “Ow! What was that?”

“Venom! Do not bite his kidneys!” You said as you snapped your fingers.

“I think that’s enough for now.” Andrew shuddered and practically threw Venom back at you.

“Fine by me.” You mumbled as Venom absorbed back into your skin. You looked around at the three Peter’s, taking into account how attractive each of them were. You smiled a little to yourself as you got an idea.

“Hey do any of you guys know what eiffle towering someone is or-“

“Y/n.“ Peter cut you off with a disappointed sigh.

“I’ll stop.” You nodded and looked down in shame.

The final battle

“Ned, I can’t just stand here and watch. I gotta help them.” You said as you and Ned watched the three Spidermen fighting through the portal.

“But Peter told us to stay here.” Ned reminded you.

“Yeah. But he didn’t tell us that.” You replied as you turned into Venom. You ran out onto the scaffolding and jumped into action. When you climbed into the crown of the statue, you found the sandman inside.

He started coming at you, so you rushed at him. You tried to bite his head off, but your teeth went right through the sand. He tried to punch you in retaliation but his fist turned to sand the minute it made contact with your shoulder. You looked at each for a moment, both realizing how pointless your fight would be.

“Let’s not.” You decided, and he agreed. You climbed out of the crown and saw Ned hastily moving his arms in a circle.

“What are you doing? Close the portal.” You told him as you changed back into yourself.

“I’m trying. It’s not as easy as it looks.” He whined as continued trying. His panicked expression melted into one of pure fear as he looked at something over your shoulder.

“Dude, the giant lizard is coming at us. Run!” Ned cried and ran further into the lab. You turned around just as the lizard caught up to you. It grabbed you by the shoulders and roared in your face, making you burst out laughing.

“Bitch please.” You laughed before changing into Venom and roaring even louder. The lizard let out a whimper and ran away from you, so you began to chase it. You tackled it and both of you fell through the middle of the scaffolding, landing on a couple of wood planks below. You wrestled and clawed at each other for a while until the lizard grabbed Venom and threw her off into the sea.

“Seriously? Every time?” You called after Venom. The lizard snapped at you but you put your foot up to hold it back.

“Jokes on you. She’s gonna find her way back to me in the knick of time and-“

Before you could finish your sentence, he slashed you across the face with his claws.

“Ow! You bitch!” You scoffed as you covered your face. You smacked him across the face and then back hand smacked him while he was still recovering from the first one.

“That’s right. I don’t need a symbiote to kick you in your lizard balls.” You growled before lunging at him. You landed on his chest and started to choke him out. It didn’t take long for him to overpower you and flip you on your back.

“You won’t be able to stop me.” He growled.

“Ew. You talk?” You choked out.

“Once I get my hands on that box, I’ll be able to go home and turn the entire city into reptilian hybrids.”

You stopped fighting him for a minute and looked at him curiously.

“Wait, that was your evil plan?” You scrunched your nose. “You were gonna turn everyone into lizards?”

“Yes.” He growled.

“I mean, that’s kinda lame don’t you think? Like why would you even do that?” You shrugged, making him choke you harder.

“I wasn’t being mean. I was genuinely asking. Why would you want everyone to be a lizard? What would that accomplish?” You asked as he strangled you. The lizard retracted his claws and plunged them into your stomach, looking down in confusion when he didn’t feel them go in.

“Dummy.” You snickered. “Can’t you tell I’m wearing an impenetrable suit made out of alien goo?”

“That won’t stop me from biting off your face.” He said as he licked his fangs.

“You got me there.” You laughed nervously and turned your face away as he opened his mouth.

“Y/n!” Andrew called as he swung by. “Catch!”

He tossed Dr. Connors’s cure at you and you caught it with one hand. You quickly shoved it in his mouth just as he got as biting down, making the gas explode out of the bottle. He slid off of you and slumped back onto the ground as he began to turn back into his human form.

“Where am I?” He asked you.

“What does it look like dude?” You sighed, unamused. “You’re on the Statue of Liberty in another dimension. Try to keep up.”

Dr. Conners stared at you in disbelief as you got up and dusted yourself off.

“If we’re done here, my boyfriend and his inter dimensional counterparts need my help.” You clicked your tongue and shot finger guns at him before walking away.

Andrew saving you

Your hands just missed Peter’s as he plunged down to save you. Venom was still nowhere to be found so if you hit the ground, you weren’t gonna survive it. Andrew noticed you falling as flashed back to the last time he saw Gwen.

“No!” He cried and dove off the scaffolding. He caught up to you and wrapped his body around you like an armor. He shot a web up and held you tightly as his feet landed on the ground.

“Are you okay?” He asked you as he held you in his arms.

“Am I okay? I just fell of the freaking statute of liberty! No I’m not okay!” You shouted as adrenaline flowed through your body. Andrew gulped and nodded a little, understanding why you’d be shaken up.

“Sorry uh yeah I’m fine.” You said once you caught your breath. Andrew teared up a little and nodded again, finally hearing the words he needed to hear.

“Are you okay?” You asked when you noticed the tears running down his face.

“I’m okay.” He told you as a smile broke through on his face. You stared into each other’s eyes as you caught your breath, both of you still shaken up.

“Should we kiss?“ You asked after a beat of silence. You and Andrew both contemplated it and even started to lean in a little.

“No.” You said in unison and he set you down.

After reuniting with Venom, you saw Tobey crumbling to the floor as Andrew struggled to hold him up. You ran over to them as fast as you could to help.

“Is everything okay? Are you okay?” You asked Andrew.

“I’m okay. He’s not.” Andrew said as he looked at Tobey in a panic.

“Oh shit.” You frowned. “What happened to you?”

“Oh, you know.” Tobey smiled weakly. “I got stabbed.”

“Hey, hey hey. Don’t worry.” You smiled and knelt beside him. “I can heal you. I just need to stick my alien inside you.”

“What?” He sat up and winced. “No. Absolutely not.”

“Shhh. It’s okay.” You cooed. “Just let me stick my alien inside you.”

“Do not stick anything inside of me.” Tobey deadpanned.

“Shhh. It’ll help. Let me put my goo in you.” You winked at him and placed your hand over his stab wound.

“Oh God.” He tilted his head back so he wouldn’t have to see it.

“It’s gonna be cold at first. Then it’s gonna feel really, really warm.” You warned him before letting Venom go inside.

“Is it in?” He asked and looked down.

“It’s in. It’s definitely in.” Andrew nodded as he knelt beside you guys.

“I feel it.” Tobey grimaced. “Gross.”

“There you go. All better.” You smiled once the wound was healed. You looked up to see Peter watched you with a disgusted face.

“Are you okay sweetie?” You asked as you stood up.

“Other than the fact that I just watched my girlfriend stick her alien inside a version of me from another dimension right after I nearly murdered a man for killing my last living relative, I’m doing okay.” Peter nodded. You smiled sadly and pulled Peter into a kiss as Venom crept inside him to heal his wounds. When you pulled away, you saw Norman Osborn sitting on the ground behind him with a look of utter despair on his face. You went over to him and sat on the ground beside him, both of you looking out at the water as the sun began to rise.

“You have some pretty deep cuts there, doctor. I could help with that.” You said softly as you looked at him. Norman tore his attention away from the water and looked at you curiously.

“Why would you help me? After everything I just did to you and your friends. Why even speak to me?” He asked you. You gave him a soft smile and put your hand on his cheek, letting Venom seep inside to heal him.

“I know what it’s like to have a monster inside of you.” You told him. “One that makes you do things you would never do. But I’m friends with my monster. I’m sorry you couldn’t be friends with yours.”

Norman smiled softly as you as you moved your hands to heal a cut on his arm, then his leg.

“Thank you for being nice to me.” He said to you. “Even though I’ve done really bad things.”

“It’s okay. I’ve done really bad things too.”

“As bad as killing an orphans only living relative?” Norman sighed and looked over at Peter.

“I’ve eaten 9 people.” You told her.

“Well I never did that. That’s fucked up.” Normal replied, making your jaw drop.

After the spell

Peter walked into your coffee shop with his note in his hand. He nervously folded in and put it in his pocket as he approached the counter.

“Hi.” He greeted you with a nervous smile.

“Hi.” You smiled back, feeling a strange pit in your stomach as you looked at him.

“Peter? Peter Parker?” Venom asked inside your head.

“What?” You asked out loud.

“What?” Peter asked you.

“Sorry.” You gave him an embarrassed smile. “Not you.”

“We know this guy. We know him really, really well.” Venom told you.

“No we don’t. Hush.” You turned your head to whisper to Venom before looking back at Peter.

“What can I get you?” You asked him.

“Just a small cup of coffee, please.” He asked politely. He could tell you were talking to Venom and wondered what you were saying.

“Sure. I’ll get started on that right away.” You smiled at him before turning around. You poured his coffee into a cup and went to turn around, but Venom locked your knees in place.

“Put sugar in it. He likes sugar.”

“He didn’t ask for sugar.” You whispered.

“Peter is shy. And he loves sugar.” Venom said as an inky black tendril came out of your side and grabbed a packet of sugar. You looked over your shoulder to see if anyone was watching and when you looked back, Venom had emptied five packets of sugar into Peter’s coffee.

“Stop it. He’s gonna get sick.” You whispered harshly and quickly put a lid on the cup.

“We know his coffee order.” Venom told you, sounding annoyed that you were doubting her.

“No we don’t. I’ve never seen that guy before.”

“Fine. Ask him yourself.” Venom said before yanking you towards Peter.

“Woah!” You gasped as you stumbled towards the counter. Peter bit back a smile, knowing Venom was puppeteering you.

“Hi. Me again. Would you like any sugar in your coffee? I accidentally put a sugar packet it in. And then I accidentally did that four more times.”

“That’s okay.” Peter chuckled. “It’s perfect actually. I usually put 5 sugars in. I like it it sweet.”

“Told you.” Venom said smugly.

“Shut up.” You said and rolled your eyes.

“What?” Peter asked you.

“Sorry. I’m so sorry.” Your eyes widened. “I don’t have an explanation for that one.”

“It’s okay.” Peter laughed again. “It happens.”

“Here. Sorry about…me.” You said as you handed him his coffee.

“Don’t be sorry. I like…you.” Peter said through a shy smile. You returned the smile before typing his order into your monitor.

“That’ll be $1.40.”

“He keeps his wallet in his back left pocket.” Venom told you. “It’s a Velcro Aladdin wallet.”

You watched curiously as Peter pulled a Velcro Aladdin wallet out of his back left pocket and handed you two dollars.

“Here. Thanks for the coffee.” He said as he handed you the money.

“Cute wallet.” You smiled and nodded towards his wallet.

“Thanks. It was a gift.” He smiled softly as he remembered the birthday when you gave him the wallet.

“He’s cute.” Venom commented.

“Shut up.” You giggled as you thought the exact same thing. Peter looked at you curiously and you slapped your hand over your mouth.

“Sorry. Not you. I was talking to myself.” You lied.

“It’s okay. Have a nice day, Y/n.” He nodded towards your name tag as he put a dollar in your tip jar.

“Oh, thanks.” You smiled and nervously played with your uniform.

“Have a nice day too, Venom.” Peter said as he walked towards the door.

“Bye Peter.” Venom called back.

Bonus scene

“I can’t believe this.” You sat on the floor and put your head in your hands.

“It’s not that big of a deal.” Tobey sighed as he subbed his eyes.

“It’s a huge deal.” You raised your voice. “This is the worst news I’ve ever received.”

“You’re offended all of us by saying that.” Andrew said as he gestured to the other two Peter’s.

“I don’t care.” You shouted as you stood up. “You mean to tell me my variant is a white man named Eddie Brock? A white man?!”

“Why’d you have to tell her that?” Peter asked Tobey in a whine.

“I thought she knew.” Tobey shrugged.

“A white man?! A freaking white man? Is he at least cool?” You asked as you shook Tobey by the shoulders.

“He was a journalist.” Tobey smiled weakly in an attempt to make you feel better.

“Oh my God.” You groaned loudly. “Was he at least successful?”

“He’s freelance.” Tobey grimaced, making you groan even louder.

“What about Venom?” You asked. “Was he good to Venom?”

“He died protecting Venom from a pumpkin bomb.” Tobey told you, making you relax a little.

“Oh. Okay.” You nodded in satisfaction. “That makes me feel better. What did he look like?”

“Frosted tips.” Tobey told you. “And we wore a lot of leather.”

You let out a slow groan as you sat back down on the floor and curled into a ball.

Tag List 🏷

@awesomebooklover17 @thebookwormlife @imanativeofswlondondahling @serendipitous-amor

@lavender-writer @whatareyouhidingpeter @takenbyheartstrings @ultrunning @imyourliquor-youremypoison @andreasworlsboring101

@letsloveimagines @peterparkoure @a-villain-vying-for-attention @justcallmehitgirl @jackiehollanderr @mara-twins @maryjanee23 @geeksareunique @emmamarshmellow @unbelievableholland @flixndchill @sovereignparker @thisisthebiplace @every-marveler-ever @undiadeestos @caelestii-e @eridanuswave​ @itscaminow​ @fiantomartell @solarxmoonchild @canyouevencauseicant @illwritetomorrow @thehappygrungelife @saysomethingspiderman @smilexcaptainx @quaksonhehe @kelieah @seasidecrowbar @lovelessdagger @electraheart-3174 @unbelievableholland @yourtypicalhotmess @horanxholland @thesuitelifeofafangirl @marshxx @heyheycharlatte @nooneinvitedfascistbarbie @tomshufflepuff

@maybemona @alexxcorona113

[gladerwolfstarkimagines]

Imagine the Ember Island Players creating a romance between you and Zuko which hits a little too close to home

You sat beside Katara and noticed how Zuko sat on the other side of her. Aang faltered, obviously wanting to sit there and you smirked as Zuko obliviously missed Aang’s look. Zuko had been with the group a few weeks now but his social skills still weren’t very good and you found it made for some very interesting interactions. His attempt at telling jokes alone made you smile every time you saw him for a full week afterwards and you found Zuko did a lot of things that amused you but apparently not so much the others. “I was going to sit there” Aang whined and Zuko shrugged “so? Just sit next to me”. Aang pouted and you laughed to yourself “here” you said standing up “take my seat Aang” and you moved so he could sit beside Katara. Katara was oblivious and you sat on the other side of Zuko chuckling at Aang’s blush. “What was that all about?” Zuko asked and you smiled “ow nothing you just almost ruined Aang’s evening”. Zuko frowned and went to ask what you meant when the lights dimmed so you knocked his arm shaking your head “i’ll tell you later now shhh”. Zuko folded his arm huffily but stopped talking. The play was wonderfully awful. As you hadn’t joined the gang straight away you knew you had time to just enjoy the first few acts and make fun of the way they portrayed all your friends. Plus what could they do to your character? You didn’t have any old flames like Katara or Sokka and you didn’t have an emotional backstory like Zuko or Aang. So you relaxed arms spread over the back of the bench and waited for *yourself* to make an appearance.

The second your actress walked on stage you knew it wouldn’t be good. They had your character all wrong! Your actress flirted with everyone and acted like a lovesick idiot. You didn’t think it could get much worse and then your character met Zuko’s.

“I’ll save you from the pirates” Zuko’s character purred to yours and you spluttered. “That...that wasn’t even me! That was Katara!” you whispered angrily. You looked to Zuko for confirmation who nodded “yeah I didn’t say that to you...and I certainly didn’t tie you up while staring at you like that”. “And I did not flirt with you like that either”. You both glared as your characters bonded and they actually invented Zuko letting you go voluntarily. As Zuko’s character stared off into the distance and said your name you heard Sokka and Suki wheezing from laughter while you simmered with anger and embarrassment. “I didn’t do that!” Zuko cried and you saw he was blushing vividly. That made you blush too and crossed your arms tightly “they better not stick with this theme”.

Of course they did. By the time act 3 had ended you and Zuko were living a star crossed lovers lifestyle in Ba Sing Sei. They again got you mixed up with Katara and said Azula kidnapped you to lure Zuko to the Earth King’s palace. The act ended with Zuko charging in to save you, offering his own life in exchange for yours, but Azula outmanoeuvred him and arrested him too. As the lights went up for intermission you and Zuko paused before exploding.

“That never even happened!”.

“I knew he was in Ba Sing Sei but we never went on a date”.

“Yeah that was a different girl”.

“And you did not fight with Jet over me”.

“I didn’t even know you knew Jet!” Zuko agreed and you both paused for air.

The gang all looked at each other before bursting into laughter. “What is so funny?” you cried and Sokka smiled. “We all know none of that stuff happened, we were there too remember?”. “Yeah so...can’t we rant?” you asked. “Well yeah but why get so mad about it? Are you trying to convince us or yourselves that the idea the two you flirted is so impossible?”. You and Zuko exploded again at the thought and Sokka and the others burst into laughter again. “All i’m saying is this is a lot of emotion to come from nowhere” Sokka smiled “now i’m going backstage so yell at each other or something” and he disappeared with Suki. Katara and Toph left for snacks and Aang went to the toilet leaving the two of you alone. “But i mean it is ridiculous” you muttered and Zuko nodded “utterly ridiculous”. “Sure we ended up together a few times” you shrugged “but that was completely by chance, it wasn’t like you were hyper-aware of me or vice versa”. “Yeah not at all” Zuko agreed but he wasn’t looking you in the eye for some reason. You stared at him confused and noticed his neck looked slightly red as if he was blushing. “Wait did you?” you asked suddenly “notice me more?”. Zuko looked up and he was indeed blushing deeply “what I....of course not! I never...I mean I did learn your name before anyone else’s but that’s because we spent that time together when I helped the pirates kidnap you and you wouldn’t shut up the whole night”. “Then why are you blushing so much?” you asked and Zuko shrugged “I don’t know I...it’s just them insinuating I like you. I’ve had it a lot”. “You have?” you asked amazed and Zuko nodded “when my uncle heard you’d seen me in Ba Sing Sei and that we’d reached a deal not to tell on one another he had this annoying smirk like i’d done it for any other reason besides the fact it was mutually beneficial. Then when I went back home Azula made it seem like me and you had a thing and Mai got jealous and started asking about you and I had to explain all our interactions and it was very awkward...she wanted me to reassure her by putting you down and making the idea seem impossible but I must have failed because she didn’t believe me. So I guess that’s why it makes me feel weird, everyone keeps telling me I act differently with you and I suppose I do but I have no idea if that’s because everyone keeps saying it or if I always have”. You nodded your head but were unsure what to say. “Well which one do you think it is?” you asked eventually and Zuko paused “what?”. “If you had to guess, would you say you act differently around me because of what people say about us or have you just always acted that way”. Zuko thought, staring at the ground and basically anywhere but at you, “i’m not sure but I guess maybe the second? They must have got it from somewhere I suppose”. “The second?” you asked surprised and Zuko’s blush returned vividly “I’m only guessing, I honestly don’t know”. You nodded your head and went to speak when the others returned which stopped you right in your tracks.  

The second half of the play began of course with you and Zuko reuniting in the prison under Ba Sing Sei. You and Zuko did end up there together but you definitely did less staring at one another. You rolled your eyes as your characters began to passionately speak to one another stepping closer and closer. They finally reached one another and you laughed when your character began yelling at Zuko’s. “Ha maybe they got some things right!” you whispered to Zuko who nodded “you did yell at me a lot”. You smirked and went to apologise when Zuko’s character kissed yours. You and Zuko abruptly shot away from each other. “That is not even close to what happened!” you cried at the others who were all laughing. Zuko nodded “this is just slander! They didn’t even bother to try to get our characters right and anyone with half a brain would realise that!”. Someone shushed Zuko and he glared “shush yourself” he cried before storming from the room. He didn’t return for the rest of the play and honestly you thought that was probably wise. It got worse and worse. They still kept in Zuko’s betrayal of Iroh but changed it making you at the centre of Zuko’s struggle. He chose the crown and they made you react dramatically (even getting a love ballad moment). They then skipped forwards to Zuko at the palace, who got his own song when he realised he’d made the wrong choice. Your characters reunited not long after and promptly confessed their love for one another. Then you were both murdered by Ozai very much in line with the tragic forbidden lovers style.

“I mean I’m just glad she’s dead” you shrugged on your way out “anything to end that romance”. The others smirked when Aang paused “do you think Zuko went back home to the villa?” looking around for the angry fire prince. “No he knows we don’t know this place well, he’s probably just sat outside somewhere” you replied looking around but you couldn’t see him brooding anywhere either. When you walked out the front door and still didn’t spot him Aang frowned “okay everyone split up and look for him, meet back here in five minutes”.

You returned five minutes later to see Katara, Suki, Sokka and Toph all hadn’t found him either. “I wonder where he is” Katara frowned and you shrugged “he’ll be fine, that boy has nine lives”. “He didn’t in that play” Toph commented and you nodded. “True but that play was a mess and there’s one thing I still can’t get over. Zuko said his family and friends thought he liked me that’s where his side of this rumour started but in the play they acted like I encouraged him! Where on earth did they get that idea?”. The group all went quiet and you paused “what?”. “Well...I mean you kinda do encourage him” Sokka frowned and your jaw dropped “I DO NOT! When have I ever...”. “When we got kidnapped by the pirates you teased Zuko constantly and refused to be quiet until he spoke to you” Katara pointed out. “Yes but that was to annoy him not flirt with him!”. “Okay how about when June asked if you were his girlfriend and you replied he wishes instead of no?”. “I was joking” you shrugged and Toph smirked “or how about when I was sneaking out to see Zuko at the Western Air Temple and found you already on your way to see him? What were you popping in to see Zuko for huh y/n? Nice date by the campfire?”. “I was doing the same thing as you! I was going to see if he would tell the truth and given that I knew him best I thought I....”. The gang all erupted and you paused “what?”. “You know him best?” Sokka asked smirking and you nodded “that doesn’t mean anything it’s a fact”. “Ow is it?” Sokka asked and you nodded “It is! Fine if I don’t know him best what was his fake name in Ba Sing Sei?”. Everyone went quiet and you nodded “or how about how long ago he was banished from the fire nation? Better yet just tell me his parent’s names!” you cried. When nobody replied you smirked folding your arms victoriously “told you I know him best”. “Yeah you’ve definitely proved how much you know about Zuko” Suki smirked looking past you. You frowned before you heard someone behind you. You turned to see Aang had found Zuko and by the look on his face he’d heard everything. You blushed and looked down “Zuko we were...”. “Having a competition to see who knows me best?” Zuko asked mildly amused and you paused “well sort of...Sokka started it”. “No I didn’t” Sokka retorted “you declared you knew Zuko the best and when I asked if you were sure you started spouting your favourite facts about him”. “They’re not my favourite facts about him” you snapped and Sokka’s smirk just grew “whatever y/n” and he turned leading the way home. The others all followed and purposefully made it so you and Zuko were at the back. “Why were you talking about me anyway?” Zuko asked and you paused “ow nothing I was just er...trying to work out why the Ember Island Players thought I had a thing for you but the gang was not helpful”. “They couldn’t think of a reason?” Zuko asked innocently and you frowned “no they could actually think of lots of reasons, it appears similar to your family they were also under the impression I held a flame for you as it were”. “Ow really?” Zuko asked. He kept his voice flat but you could swear he was smirking slightly. “Stop enjoying this” you whined pushing him “it’s not funny, it’s embarrassing”. “Liking me is embarrassing?” Zuko asked and you paused “no I didn’t mean that, I just meant having all your friends claim you like someone when you can’t see it”. “You really can’t see where they’re coming from?” Zuko asked and you shook your head “nope not at all”. Zuko looked away and you frowned “I saw that, what did that look mean?”. “Nothing...” Zuko trailed off but you sighed grabbing him by the arm to make him look at you “I’m sick of everyone saying things about me for once just say it to my face!”. Zuko sighed “fine, I just think i’ve been honest with you but you’re not being honest with yourself”. “Not being honest?”. Zuko nodded “Yes, I admitted I could see where my family were coming from and how the rumours started but you’re acting as if they plucked them out of thin air!”. “Well maybe they did! I don’t see how any of our interactions could be interpreted as romantic”. Zuko didn’t look convinced. “You don’t think there’s some truth to what the Ember Island Players said? That maybe there is something here?” Zuko asked gesturing to the small gap between you. “No of course not! Do you?”. “No” Zuko yelled back and you nodded “fine! You are the most infuriating...” you started when Zuko grabbed you kissing you. You initially tensed at the sensation but soon melted into it. Zuko seemed to be trying to prove a point by kissing you passionately and not wanting him to win you kissed him back matching his intensity. Finally Zuko pulled away for air and stared at you “still not want to admit there’s something here?”. You stared at Zuko torn between admitting he was right and your pride. You were annoyed, frustrated, excited and exhilarated all at once. You were breathing rapidly, your cheeks bright red as were Zuko’s and neither of you made to move away. “I...” you started eventually “that was a good kiss”. Zuko nodded, his frustration melting away “it was, I enjoyed it...I’ve been wondering what it would feel like to kiss you for a while now”. “You have?” you asked and Zuko nodded “as annoying as it is to admit my family and friends were right, I like you and I have for a while”. You smiled despite yourself at how adorable Zuko looked all bashful and embarrassed. “I tried ignoring it for a while but then when I joined the group your friends all saw it straight away. Then tonight...the play was bad but I was frustrated that everyone seemed to see it apart from you the person I actually wanted to see it...you”. You looked down wondering how to reply “I’m sorry I bet that was really frustrating”. Zuko nodded “It was and I figured this was just one-sided but that...did you feel it too?”. Zuko looked so unsure and unlike himself it was endearing and gave you confidence. “Yes” you said shakily “after that kiss I can tell you it is definitely not one-sided. I like you too Zuko and probably have since the start”. “Probably?” Zuko asked and you sighed “I’m not good with my emotions, I can be oblivious to them so I can’t with certainty tell you it’s been going on as long as the play made it out to be but I know I like you. Right now in this moment...I hope that’s enough, I know it’s a shit confession and you probably wanted something more solid but I...”. Zuko began laughing and you paused “what’s so funny?”. “Something more solid? Y/n I’m on the run from the Firelord who is my father, my sister is hunting me to kill me and I could very likely be imprisoned for the rest of my life if Aang fails and that’s if i’m lucky...I’m not even sure if I have a future so trust me all I need is the present. To know in this moment right here you like me back” Zuko blushed but he stepped closer and took your hands “that’s more than enough for me”. “It is?” you asked and Zuko nodded “yes and if by some chance it becomes more long-term I’ll be very happy but for now I just want to enjoy this time with you”. You smiled and leant in to kiss Zuko again when someone coughed. “Hey what are you two doing?” Sokka called. Apparently the others had finally realised the two of you were no longer with the group and walked back to find the two of you as you currently were. Luckily it was dark so you moved away from Zuko but still held his hand. “Yeah we thought you’d gotten lost are you okay?” Katara called. Zuko sighed and you smirked at his expression. “We’re fine” you smiled “we were just talking and Zuko’s going to show me this beach he went to a lot as a kid”. Zuko’s eyes shot up to yours and he smiled. “You are?” Aang asked and Zuko nodded “yep, it’s not far from here so we won’t be long. You guys head back to the villa and we’ll meet you there” and with that Zuko tugged you away from the others. You smiled at Zuko and he smiled back at you “quick thinking, I didn’t think we’d get out of there so easily”. “You can thank me later” you replied when you heard Sokka gasp “wait are they holding hands? Y/n are you holding hands?”. “Run!” Zuko cried and you laughed but did as he said. You kept running even after Sokka’s voice trailed off and only stopped when you reached a sandy beach. You both collapsed on the ground and you turned to look at Zuko “did you know this was here or did you get lucky?”. “Totally the former” he smiled and you shook your head “you’re lucky I like you”. “I really am” Zuko agreed and he stared at your face tenderly. His fingers brushed your cheek and you smiled “what are you waiting for?”. “I have no idea” Zuko admitted and he leant in to reclaim the lost kiss from earlier. This time you weren’t interrupted.