#i enjoyed reading it a lot. actually. sorry i lied

[xulips]

i hope u don't mind but ur tokoha drawing singlehandedly killed my writers block and now this exists inspired by it!! ty for Them it bought me insane amounts of joy <3 have a nice day!!

i enjoyed it quite a bit

[chompe-diem]

sometimes i wish i wasnt a guy who gets so exhausted from writing even 1k words in a day's work bc there are fic ideas up there man,,, theyre not Great ideas but they exist at least....

[bitchimasnake-sss]

hi lovely🥹 i'm sorry if i am being unreasonable, but may i ask, for more stories of stepbro!op monster trio? sorry to bother 🥹🫂

you guys are never unreasonable!!! unless, you like ask me to write actual incest cause frankly that goes beyond my (very lose) morals. but step-brothers? we love (fictional) step-brothers. you got it! like always, also adding ace and law!! hope you enjoy, pretty <3

☆thinkin' about: the monster trio, ace 'n law! vs familial relations, shh!

NOT PROOFREAD. JUST UTTERLY HORNY AND PERVERTED. tw: CONCEPT OF STEP-CEST, PORN LOGIC, DUB-CON. BIMBOFICATION. DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT. [i.e. if you do not feel okay reading such concepts, please scroll/click away. thankyou in advance.] cw: lots of porn logic. set in modern au. nsfw includes: a lot of overstimulation blowjob, cockwarming, penetration, cunnilingus, fingering, some bondage and use of toys and smex. lots of smex. MDNI OR I WILL ACTUALLY FIND YOU USING BLACK MAGIC. SIT THIS ONE OUT, KIDS. m.list

🍒monkey d. luffy: your favourite meal, 'nichan!

❤️monkey d. luffy is not quite sure which he loves more, you or food. because when he entered the kitchen in the dead of the night, he only really wanted to eat something to soothe his insatiable hunger. how lucky, he found you there instead! "l-luffy," you squirm under his tight grip on your thighs as his tongue swipes against your clit once more. when he looks up, his lips are drenched in everything you, "what?" "someone's gonna see." you mumble, trying feebly to pull at his hair and get him to part with your pretty pussy. but luffy just holds you down tighter on the kitchen counter, making sure your trembling cunt doesn't run away from him. he's still hungry, after all. he gives you a dopey smile, the kind that has you believing all of his false lies, "nobody's gonna come, pretty." he licks a soft stripe up your wet pussy, softly chuckling at his own joke, "i mean, you will." "nobody will?" you echo innocently, words falling down your wobbling lips so easily as he pulls your hips to himself and starts feasting like a man ravished. he moans against your folds, "nobody, i promise." his nose nudges against your clit so dangerously well, his tongue slides into your sickly sweet hole so easily and as he fucks up the muscle into you, you swear you feel his tongue stretch as if to hit you g-spot. "l-luffy, ohmygod," you practically feel yourself drip onto your step-mother's freakishly clean counter tops and half-heartedly try to think of a lie to tell her when she asks you about the stain. "tsk," you step-brother shakes his head so softly around your cunt, pulling back his drenched face just to nudge his digits into your hole instead, "don't worry about the mess, i'll clean it up all by myself." and from the way your step-brother was licking at you clit, drinking in every candied, syrupy essence out of you, you were sure he meant it. "just relax, and let me have my share." he husked into your bundle of nerves, right hand pumping and curling into your heat, "i got the rest, peach."

🍀roronoa zoro:

💚"zoro?" you ask so softly, and your voice echoes back towards you from the empty changing room. your step-brother had asked you to come see him once his practice was over. he claimed it was an emergency, and wouldn't you be a terrible younger step-sister if you ignored your brother in a dire situation like this? "in here." his voice echoes from the shower as you meekly find yourself walking to one of the closed stalls. calling out again, you stand in front of the stall, "zoro?" the door opens momentarily and you're pulled in by his sturdy hand on your wrist. as soon as your gain some semblance of sanity, you're face to face with your step-brother. the shower is still running in the background, and water droplets softly run down his ripped, naked body. "what's the emergency?" you ask softly but zoro brings his hands up to your lips, softly swiping his thumb across your pouty bottom lip before meeting your eyes. he rasps, "i had a shit match. 'm so angry right now, think you can make it better, pretty?" you nodded, knowing just what would cheer your brother up. after all, that's what a good step-sister should do! sinking down to your knees, you gaze up at him one last time before softly grabbing his aching, erect cock in your hands. zoro moans at your soft touches, and it spurs you to lick his tip leisurely. your hands move up and down over and over again as his tip slips past your lips. you taste his beading pre on your tongue and your thighs rub against each-other as you feel the wetness build up in your panties. "good girl." zoro husks, throwing his head back and guiding you to softly take more of him in. he tastes like he always does: sea-salt and something tangy, and you hum around the familiar taste, "jus' like that, so, so good for me." you hum around him again, gagging just a little bit as his tip kisses the back of throat, "r-really?" "of course." zoro hums, pulling you off his aching cock to let you breathe, "think ya can take it whole?" you nod with conviction and the green-haired jock smears his tip across your lips, smirking down at the way you part your mouth to let him line it easier, "cute." he guides you to take him past your glossy lips, "take it. take it whole."

🫐vinsmoke sanji:

💙"and how does this one taste?" sanji asks innocently, feeding you a bite from the cake he had baked, "good?" you nod, words wobbling, "'s r-eally good, sanji." "awh," your step-mother claps, "'m so glad you both are working hard together for the bake sale! alright, i'm off to the market. be good, both of you." "of course." sanji nods and you feel him press his erection onto you from behind. teasing you. telling you just what was waiting for you. you were lucky that your lower halves were hidden by the kitchen island otherwise your step-mother would have seen that sanji had his hands down your shorts, teasing your clit while pretending he was such a saint. as soon as you both hear the woman slam the front-door and leave, sanji drops his face into the crook of your neck, breathing in your scent like a man crazed. his forefinger and thumb pinch your clit so meanly and you buck into him as a result, "s-sanji." "don't you think you should thank me?" your step-brother rasps, pulling your folds apart so he could thumb your clit better, "i helped you bake for your sale." "th-thankyou." you stutter at the way his fingers keep circling your sensitive nub, "how should i... thank you?" "let me make you cum." he hums definitively, slipping his hand further to let one finger inside you, "ah, you always feel this good. 's almost addictive." "it... it is?" you buck into his hand, desperately rutting to get the friction on your clit from him. but sanji never let you beg, ofcourse. he riles you up instead, "what's that, baby? want more?" and the blonde shoves another finger without you nodding. curling his digits, he moans at the way your gummy walls clench around him, how your wetness was dripping down his hand and wetting your short, how you brought your own up hand to your tits to play with your perky nipples. "you're so cute." sanji hums, pumping into you without faltering, "come on, pretty girl. cum all over me. let me taste you."

🦋portgas d. ace:

🧡"tsk, wrong again?" your older step-brother softly shakes his head. if it weren't for the slight smirk in his tone, you would have thought he was seriously disappointed in you. "'m sorry." you mumble, hips squirming as as he wraps his muscled arms around your waist to hold you still. he rests his head in the crook of your neck, softly whispering to you, "y'know i had to skip hanging out with my friends to help you do this assignment. and now? you're getting all of them wrong." "i cannot focus..." your voice trembles and he laughs in return, "really? why not?" he hums, "you know how busy i am, right?" and you did! you knew he was busy with his own things and asking for his help over this uni assignment was stupid... but, he was always so good at teaching, that you had to ask him. "tell me..." he wonders aloud, "why cannot you focus?" but how could you? you were stuffed full of your step-brothers cock. his length stayed unmoving inside you, and the way you could feel every little vein against your velvety walls. he was so mean! he said he would fuck you once you finished your assignment, until them let him cockwarm in you. but it had been so long and he was still unmoving!! "ah, well... you know the punishment." he whispers in mock distress, and your pussy trembles against his length in anticipation. his hand comes down on your clit. a harsh, little slap that has you dripping down his length and wet both your clothes. "try again." ace says definitively, "c'mon, you're surely not as dumb as you're acting." and then, something clicks. "hah, unless..." your step-brother's fingers come down to tease your exposed, overstimulated clit again, "you're purposefully getting them wrong because you want me to do..." he slaps your cunt again, "this?" "no!" you shake your head, voice growing even weaker, "i- i didn't. promise." but he just grins, "shit. if you liked that so much, should've told me sooner, princess."

🪻trafalgar d. water law:

💜"you know i need to practice, right?" your step-brother repeats and you nod in return, "i... i know. don't worry, law." you knew he was a med student, and you knew how important it was for him to be able to understand the human body from a close, physical point of view! and especially, for him to better examine women, he needed to understand them well, didn't he? and well, that's where you came in. you lay in his bed, your arms and legs tied to the leg posts as law peers down at you, "let me just see how you react, okay?" you nod and law brings the buzzing toy to your glistening cunt. as the vibrator comes in contact with your exposed clit, you involuntarily jerk your hips away, eyes clenching shut in delight. your hips stutter all-too-pathetically and law takes the toy away to note something down. your tattooed doctor looks down at you as if scrutinizing you, "hm, feel good?" and you can't help but nod desperately, "y-yes." "then, tell me." there's this sadistic glint in his eyes, "i told you, talk to me through it. how else would i know how you react, right?" "i-i'm sorry." you catch your wobbling lips under your teeth, a sorry expression plastered to your face as law slowly brings the toy back to your anticipating body. "f-feels good, law." you stutter as the toy constantly nags against your sensitive nub, and law nods as if he's serious, "does it? describe it better for me, could you?" "it feels..." your words get stuck in your throat, eyes widening at the lewd things you're about to say. you avert your gaze, "i- don't wanna say such things." "oh?" law quirks an eyebrow, his lips pressed into a thin line as if unveiling his disappointment. your stomach drops at his reaction. after all, what kind of step-sister were you?! he mumbles gravely, "but it's for my study, y'know that. there's no shame in helping your older step-brother, right?" "i-" your step-brother gives you a re-assuring nod, and your voice trembles as he teases you, "it f-feels good... like my body's gonna explode, an-and it's good." "it's good?" he repeats and you nod, trying to rest your eyes on him despite your squirming body, "y-yes." "that's a relief." he huffs, pressing the toy against your clit harshly now, "i'm glad my girl's having fun." law exchanges the toy for his thumb instead, giving you a soft smile, "let me see how this feels for you."

a/n: hahahaha I SWEAR IM SANE!!! I SWEAR!!! yes, my digital footprint goes crazy, thanks for asking. don't ask again. also. the feminine urge to write the all of these drabbles longer and without step-cest... hm, anyone on board?? anyways, glad to see you having fun you filthy, filthy person :// m.list

[belovedivies]

Hi its my first time I request

Can you do Raphael from killer Peter manhwa

Like when he get jealous or how did he fell in love

Im sorry if my english was bad

raphael relationship headcanons

cw: minor spoiler, yandere content

LOVE?

Raphael doesn’t “fall in love”. If he takes a liking to someone, they are automatically his property. No questions asked.

With you, however, who neither end up as another dead body in line for cremation nor a slave to his ever-expanding collection… it almost seems like Raphael goes easy on you.

That being said, he’s far from an ideal guy to be around. Your ears will most likely blast from hearing him shout at his underlings every few minutes of the day.

Your presence does help to ease the tension a bit though, and it won’t take as long for Raphael to direct his attention towards you and just forget about his useless lower-ranks.

Royalty treatment to the max, but only when you behave. This man has the most influential organization on Earth in the palm of his hand—you won’t want for anything else when he’s around.

Between the constant chase for Peter’s head and the killers' recruitment to rebuild Glory Club from the ground up, Raphael burns his money on you. Want that special edition of your favorite book but it’s unfortunately sold out? He’ll get it printed as many times as you want, all with your name on the leather cover in goldwork embroidery.

Just thank him after. Give him a bright smile and a kiss on the cheek; Raphael prefers his toy sweet and obedient.

JEALOUS?

Raphael gets jealous, that’s for sure. It’s just something that comes naturally for a love-deprived child.

His servants know better than to stare; longer than five seconds and it’s an instant death. This man will whisper sweet nothings into your ear while his subordinate lies there on the floor, dying in the pool of their own blood.

He likes to think that his possessiveness isn’t that bad. Can you really blame Raphael for going barbaric when one of the Apostles flirts with you during a meeting, right in front of his face?

And the motherfucker even has the audacity to look so smug about it.

With a territorial growl, Raphael pulls you into his lap right after; his hands around your hips feeling like the grip of an anaconda.

“Last warning, Philip.” Before he eventually joins the pile of unnamed bodies down the pit, that is.

Rumors soon go in cycle within Glory about the nature of your relationship with this unpredictable man.

For a plaything, Raphael does favor you a lot. No one can actually tell how long this will go on, or what tragedy shall befall your pitiful existence once the fun is up and he stabs you in the back, literally.

But for now, you’re still untouchable because you’re his. And no men or God shall lay a hand on you unless they wish to suffer a fate worse than death.

♡dividers credit: @xurengu0♡ ♡masterlist♡ a/n: lmao this was a really unexpected ask (no complaints tho) (͠≖ ͜ʖ͠≖) fyi im not taking any requests yet, but i cooked this one up fast for u. hope u enjoy reading, my lovely yuri ◕‿↼

[onceuponastory]

closer - tattooartist!bucky barnes x female!reader

Plot: Y/N's feelings towards her tattoo artist intensify the closer he gets to her. Pairing: TattooArtist!Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader Warnings: A few mentions of needles - specifically tattoo needles - and the sensation and pain of getting tattooed (specifically when it goes over a bone). If that sort of thing gives you the squick, I wouldn't read. Notes: Welcome to... whatever this is. I just missed tattoo!artist Bucky and I hc him as a flirt and a slight pain in the ass so here we are!

Not beta'd, so any mistakes are my own.

“Alright.” Bucky grins, loading up his tattoo needle with ink. “You ready to start?” 

“As ready as I’ll ever be.” 

“You’ll be fine.” Bucky reassures. “Besides, it’s not like it’s going to be any different from the other ones I’ve done for you.” He chuckles.

He’s right, of course. This is not her first tattoo by Bucky Barnes. In fact, by this point, Bucky’s done most of Y/N’s growing collection of tattoos, and claims to be the very reason she was ‘bit by the tattoo bug’. And he’s right. Since she got her first tattoo from him, Y/N’s been itching to get more. She doesn’t see skin on her arms anymore, she sees empty space, a canvas for Bucky to fill with his art. And if she could, she’d have him cover her entire body with it.

Of course, the fact that her favourite tattoo artist (his words, not hers... although she agrees with him) is the most gorgeous man she’s ever seen is also why she keeps rushing back whenever she can. And he's also a massive flirt. Yet although it’ll never amount to anything, it never does… that doesn’t mean she can’t spend their sessions hoping for it. That one day he’ll notice her, really notice her, and tell her he’s just as much in love with her as she is with him.

As Bucky gets to work, Y/N turns her head, watching him. Of course, a lot of her sessions are also spent oogling her tattoo artist. Multicoloured tattoos of various designs and sizes cover Bucky's arms, piquing her curiosity. She's always wanted to ask him about them, to tell her the stories behind them, what was going on in his life back then to make him choose that design.

The familiar warm feeling of love begins to pool in her gut again, and Y/N sighs.

There's a lot of things she wants to know about Bucky.

"I can see you staring, you know."

"Just checking you're doing a good job." She lies. Bucky rolls his eyes.

"Oh, please." He looks down at her, trademark smirk playing at the corner of his mouth. "You use that excuse all the time. You just can't resist me."

Asshole.

Thankfully, Bucky soon drops it, going back to working on her tattoo. Today, he’s doing a piece that snakes up her arm and onto her shoulder, meaning he’s frequently getting up close and personal, more so than she’s used to. However, she doesn’t mind that at all. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

As Bucky works, Y/N occasionally glances over at him, still watching him curiously. Both because she actually enjoys seeing Bucky at work, and because again, he’s gorgeous. Thankfully, Bucky doesn't seem to have noticed this time. Or if he does, he doesn't call her out on it.

Some of Bucky’s brunette strands escape his man bun, framing his face. Y/N has to stop herself from reaching up and tucking it behind his ear. Despite how close she and Bucky are, that gesture is too intimate, too close for them… even as he moves further up her arm and onto her shoulders.

At one point, she glances over again, not realising he’s a lot closer than expected. So much so that her skin almost brushes against Bucky’s hair. For a split second, a flash of pink crosses Bucky's cheeks, and she frowns. Was he...blushing? Because of her?

“Oh, sorry.” She murmurs, her cheeks burning. How does he even look hotter up close? “Just tell me to move back if you want… or just move me out of the way.” She jokes awkwardly, only adding to her embarrassment. Hopefully, this session will be over before she makes even more of a fool of herself in front of Bucky.

“It’s okay.” Bucky smirks, running a hand through his few strands of hair, a sight that makes Y/N glad she’s laying down to witness. “You’re perfect, actually.” He chuckles. ��Don’t tell the others I said this… but you’re my favourite client.” He winks.

She swears this man will be the death of her some day.

As Bucky continues the tattoo, he suddenly goes over a tender area, and she winces in pain. “You okay? You’re doing great, but let me know if you wanna stop, alright?” Bucky says. Gritting her teeth, Y/N nods.

“I’m good.” She gasps. "I just forgot how much that hurts."

It’ll all be worth it. It always is.

At least, getting to see Bucky makes it worth it, anyway.

“Good girl." Bucky smirks. 

Fucker.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The remainder of the session passes in silence, and Y/N’s head swirls. If she told him the truth, laid her heart out on the line… would it be so bad? 

She braces herself, opening her mouth to speak. But Bucky gets there first.

“You know Y/N, we’ve known each other for long enough that I feel like we’re friends. So the trust between us is solid enough.” He chuckles, refilling his ink. 

In actuality, she and Bucky have known each other for almost three years. Not that she’s been counting or anything. And despite Bucky doing most of her tattoos, she’s been at the shop infrequently enough that she wouldn’t consider themselves ‘friends’. But the thought that Bucky considers them friends makes her heart do that funny thing it always does whenever she sees Bucky - when it somehow beats too fast and almost stops. 

God, she wants him so badly.

“Yeah, that’s true. And besides, you’ve been up close and personal with me a lot.” She chuckles, another batch of heat spreading across her cheeks. Bucky laughs brightly, and Y/N grins just as wide.

“You’re right, I have.” He nods. “To be honest, by this point I’m convinced I could say or do anything, and you’d say ‘yeah!’, tattoos or otherwise.”

“Yeah!” she giggles.

“Okay.” Bucky muses, looking up at her with a smirk. “Go on a date with me then.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Please follow @onceuponastory-library and turn on notifications to be notified when I next post!

[lastoneout]

Honestly, I don't say it often bcs I know how this site is but I really do think for a lot of survivors of abuse, especially abuse that went on for years and years, sometimes the message "it's not your fault, you didn't do anything wrong/to deserve this" while ABSOLUTELY TRUE* isn't actually super helpful. For a lot of us there's a LOT of guilt tied into it, and even if things were truly out of our hands we will not be able to accept that we are truly blameless, at least not at first, and maybe for some of us not ever. So being told "no dw you didn't do anything wrong <3 <3 you're innocent" feels...idk like some toxic positivity style lies. It doesn't make me feel better, because I still do feel like there were things that happened that were my fault, that were in my control, even an ethicist or god or whoever could look me dead in the eyes, weigh all the facts, and assure me of my complete innocence, and I still wouldn't believe it. (Tbh, you have to be ready to forgive yourself and trying to force it early does more harm than good.)

And I occasionally see movies and shows and stuff get roasted all to hell for having the audacity to go with a different message, to offer abused characters not a platitude about how they are innocent and should forgive themselves asap, but instead say "so what if it was your fault? so what if you fucked up? you're still alive, you still have time, your mistakes(or perceived mistakes) don't make you irredeemable scum who deserves to suffer, it's okay that you fucked up, what matters is what you do next, and even if the horrible thing was your fault in one way or another or you did actually hurt people, you still did NOT deserve to be hurt in turn" because people think that is like, admitting that the person in question is at fault when they almost always aren't....but as an actual survior, I'm sorry, you can tell me I'm innocent till the cows come home and I won't believe it. What I need to hear is that even if it was my fault I didn't deserve to be treated that way. I still deserve help. I deserve to keep going. I am not forever stained by my mistakes. I deserve a future free from this pain.

I think before we look at things in this like...grand moral way where we try to make sure we're sending the most Correct and Healthy Message Possible, sometimes it's worth asking if that message is actually the one the people it's about need to hear. I'm sure for some people it is very freeing to be told it's not their fault, but that kind of message does not resonate with me. And I, as well as people like me, deserve to expirience stories about us that are cathartic, that resonate, that make us feel seen, and to not have to see everyone and their mom throw a fit because what helps us is "problematic".

Anyway this has been mulling around in my head for a while and I def have a lot more to say about the way guilt manifests in trauma born of abuse, but yeah I just feel like this is something that should be talked about when we bring up abuse narratives and how well written they are and if they send the Correct Message, because the "Correct Message" is never going to be the same for everyone. And that's true of ANY demographic you could choose to represent!

Like some disabled people might enjoy the "magically healed" trope while others find it offensive. Some trans people like stories where transitioning is easy as drinking a potion or getting a fancy futuristic surgery and some find that that trivializes their struggles. Some queer people want stories where there's just no homophobia at all, others find that a world without it feels fake and patronizing. Some women do want to read stories about how keeping hearth and home is noble and empowering and others want read about women who have other jobs and never have kids or get married. For some of us "you're beautiful no matter what" is lovely and some of us just want to be told being fat and hairy and having acne and scars and shit is normal and fine. Or, like the last post I reblogged says, sometimes "you're not a burden" doesn't hit as well as "being a burden isn't a bad thing". No one type of representation is ever going to work for everyone, and that doesn't mean one type of rep is objectively wrong and the other is objectively right.

So yeah, the next time you find yourself angry because you think a story is sending the wrong message about a marginalized or harmed group, maybe stop for a second to ask yourself if it's actually harmful...or if you're not the person who the story is speaking to, and if there's someone it is talking to who desperately needs to hear what it has to say.

(*Getting ahead of this now: Do not put words in my mouth. I am not saying that any abused person in any way deserved their abuse or was at fault for it happening, that is not up for debate. The fault is always in the hands of the person who chose to hurt them. I'm just saying it's nuanced and complicated and guilt is a huge fucking issue that survivors have to deal with all the time and it's not wrong to acknowledge that some of us are always going to feel like we did something wrong and not be eased by being told otherwise even if the person saying it is 100% correct and/or means well. I do not have time for people who are going to willfully misinterpret me. You will be blocked.)

[taintedcigs]

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

CHAPTER FOUR: TWO NOTES AND A HEART DOWN

← prev chapter // next chapter →

✦ summary: in which eddie takes you for a trip down memory lane and you finally read the note. (wc: 9.4k+)

✦ warnings — ANGSTANGSTANGST, argument </33, yelling, crying, mentions of sa (nothing happens) like its not brought up AT ALL it's insinuated like the tiniest bit, mean!eddie, kinda asshole-ish? pining and slowburn, strong language!, mentions of alc*hol and drg use and a toxic/ab*sive relationship, food!!

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

✦ authors note — sorry for the wait but i hope a 9.4k chapter makes up for it omg! also feel free to chat with me in the asks abt this series (and anything tbh) pls!! not proof-read pls ignore mistakes!! ive been struggling with this chapter A LOT. its not at all how i wanted to write it but i was just tired of holding it off :// so hope u guys enjoy and this is like the last fluffy chapter lmao its all angst from here on (well kinda)

series masterlist | series playlist

His nose skimmed against yours, a mere breath away from the temptation of your soft lips, everything you’ve been wanting on the tip of your fingers.

But you couldn’t do that. It didn’t matter if he was sorry or if it was casual. Chrissy still existed. And he still kissed her in front of you.

Friends, is what he promised. And this was going to ruin it.  

“Please, look at me,” he pleaded, you could hear the desperation in his voice. Your eyes blinked open slowly, how close he was to you had your eyes widened. 

"I-I don't even know what's wrong with me," he breathed out. "I feel like...I feel like I'm losing my goddamn mind, and I don’t even know what just happened,” he said in a strained voice. 

“I-I just… I look at you, and I’m absolutely terrified.” He gulped. “It terrifies me that—” He stopped himself before he could spew out more. 

It terrifies me how much I would do for you, he wishes to say, but he doesn’t, he can’t. 

“I can’t—we shouldn’t be doing this." He stammered, quick to lean away from you.

“I-I know” You agreed hesitantly, because you knew this was a bad idea. But your stomach burned at the thought that he wanted to not kiss you because of Chrissy. Was he actually going to be with her now? Did he lie about things being casual? 

“Do you…” You took a deep breath, “do you like her?” Your voice was strained, it was barely above a whisper, but Eddie heard you loud and clear. 

Your heart rate picked up quicker than you intended it to, you leaned further away from him, your mouth flooded with a bitter taste. 

“No!” His eyes widened, he answered it so quickly that the idea that he was lying sank further into you. 

“No, I-I don’t know… I just-” He breathed. “We agreed to being friends… We should keep it that way, and I can’t keep doing this,” he stammered. “I need to stop hanging on to the past.” 

“but, fuck. Each time, I try to, you just… prevent it!” He admitted, without realizing the weight his words held, your brows pinched quickly. 

“I prevent it?” You enunciated with an exasperated chuckle. 

“Jesus fucking Christ,” you mumbled under your breath as your body turned away from him, elbows holding onto the edge of the pool as you swiftly lifted yourself up. 

Eddie just looked at you, baffled. “Do you realize how unbelievable you are?” You spat, looking down on him with your hair still wet and your dress uncomfortably stuck to your body. 

“What are you talking about?” He gave you a puzzled look.

“Nevermind,” you huffed, facing away from him.

Eddie groaned, following you as he exited the pool swiftly. “Why do you even care?” He asked, breathless. Taking another step closer toward you. 

“I don’t,” you lied with a gulp. You were a bad liar. And Eddie knew that. 

“You don’t?” He narrowed his gaze, giving you a second chance to open up, but he knew you were too stubborn.

“I don’t.”

He huffed. “Fine.”

“That…” He paused, “was a mistake.” You could feel that horrible ache in your chest return. Sure it was a bad idea, but a mistake?

Did he really hate you that much?

“What does that mean?” You swallowed hard. Your heart was breaking the more he spoke, you wanted nothing more than to shut him up. 

“It means we-I shouldn’t have done that,” he corrected himself with a tinge of disappointment in his tone. But what exactly did he mean by that? Did he mean that the almost-kiss was a mistake because it could ruin your potential friendship? Or did he mean it in a way that suggested he liked Chrissy?

Those words were enough to have your heart drop into your gut; your whirlwind of thoughts were mocking you, the idea that Eddie had a chance of liking her was eating away at you, and all you could do was stand there and watch it all unravel. 

You parted your lips to speak, but all that could come out was a weak mutter of, “okay.” You turned your back on him quickly, picking up your jacket from the ground. You put it on in a struggle, fighting back the tears that were pricking your eyes. 

“What are you doing?” He asked with a puzzled look, and you refused to look back at him before your feet picked up. He didn’t seem to realize why his answer truly crushed you.

“I-I’m going home.” Your voice was barely audible; there was a lump sitting in your throat, causing your breathing to stammer.

“With what exactly?” He huffed, following behind you. 

“I don’t know,” you muttered with a roll of your eyes. “I’ll figure it out… I always do, don’t I?” You shrugged. 

“Don’t be ridiculous, I won’t let you walk alone like this. You could catch a cold, or something could happen to you, Pinky." His voice was laced with concern, brows furrowed as he hurried to your side.

“I don’t care,” you muttered with an emotionless expression.

“I do!” 

“Do you?”

“Of course I do!” He spat. “Please, don’t do something stupid and reckless. I can take you home,” he mumbled with a huff. There was no fucking way he’d let you walk home alone. 

“And I have a towel in my car,” he added, you slightly huffed. It was chilly, your dress was soaking, and he was right. There was no way you could get home without him. At least until you were willing to freeze off or get hauled by whatever was roaming in the forest. 

You followed him to the car with a simple nod, Eddie still failed to notice why you had gotten so upset, not realizing the implications his words held. 

-

By the time you got into the car, you were shivering, faintly muttering a ‘Thanks’ to Eddie as he wrapped the towel around you, brows creasing with worry, but he didn’t know what to say to you. 

Usually, he wouldn’t have let it go; he would’ve tried to get it out of you and ask you if you were okay, but when you were this upset, it was no use. 

The ride was silent except for the faint sound of Eddie’s mixtape filling the space between the two of you. He had asked if you had anything specific you wanted to listen to, but you shut him off with a faint shake of your head. 

Your heart was aching. Like he had just ripped open your chest and taken it without a care, not noticing how tight he had been squeezing and releasing it. As if he were toying with it. 

And you felt nauseous. You weren’t sure if it was because you didn’t get a chance to eat all day or because of that mocking thought in your head that told you that Eddie wanted Chrissy.  

Once your stomach grumbled, your question was quickly answered, your cheeks heated up as you crossed your arms against your chest in an attempt to shut it up. Eddie gave you a slight chuckle. “Munchies?” He chuckled. “Do you wanna get something to eat?” He asked with a reassuring smile. 

“I just wanna go home,” you grumbled as your gaze refused to meet his. “C’mon,” he muttered with a huff. “Do you even have anything to eat at home?” He asked all-knowingly. You shook your head, you didn’t; your fridge was empty; it was late, so you couldn’t get any groceries; not to mention, your messy kitchen was in no condition to cook. 

“Are burgers still your favorite food?” Your face unintentionally lit up at that; he was definitely thinking about Benny’s, and your mouth-watered just at the idea of their cheeseburgers. 

“Benny’s?” You asked with an involuntary smile on your cheeks, and Eddie swallowed a deep breath. That curve of your goddamn plump lips was driving him crazy. 

“Yeah, do you want to go?” He muttered slowly. “O-okay,” you mumbled. 

First the Wheeler House, then Billy’s stupid camaro, then the pool, this goddamn van, that mixtape, and now Benny's... this whole day had been a nostalgic mind fuck for you. You couldn’t complain, though; no matter how upset his words made you, you were still so pathetically happy to spend some time with him, ecstatic that he didn’t let you go. 

And so was Eddie. That’s why he had been holding his tongue back; he wanted to know why you cared so much about Chrissy. Sure, what she did with Billy was horrible. But it didn’t make sense. There had to be something he didn’t know.  

By the time you guys arrived at Benny's, it was past midnight, so, the place wasn’t packed, of course, but surprisingly, there were still a lot of tables besides the two of you. Eddie let out an ‘Aha!’ sound once his eyes caught the booth that was nestled in the corner. 

The same one the two of you always shared. The white light loomed over its padded, dark maroon seat, and you slid onto it with a huff. Your senses were immediately greeted by the mouthwatering aroma of toasted buns. The air was infused with a disgusting smell of frying oil, but all of it smelled irresistible to your growling stomach. 

Once the two of you got situated, Benny was quick to rush to your side. “Welcome to Benny’s, what can I get you—” 

"Oh my god!" Benny's eyes widened, his face breaking into a wide grin. "Didn't expect to see you! Jesus, how long has it been?" He chuckled, his memory working overtime.

A smile adorned your face, Benny had always been nice to you and to Eddie, giving you one too many free meals, always telling you that it was not an issue despite your protests, knowing of your absentee parents, just like the rest of the town did. 

“Very long,” you added with a chuckle, “missed your cheeseburgers.” You pouted. 

"Yeah?" Benny's excitement was palpable. "Mmhmm, nowhere in New York does it as good as Benny's," you hummed sweetly.

"Now, you're just butterin' me up!" Benny dismissed with a chuckle, eliciting a warm smile from you.

"But, New York, huh?" Benny inquired, raising an intrigued brow. "I've seen this one around, a lot, even last week." His finger pointed toward Eddie, prompting your brows to furrow.

Last week? 

“So that's why you weren’t with him.” He added, realization dawning on his face. Eddie was quick to shoot a painful gaze toward you, one that almost said, ‘no, she wasn’t with me because she left me’, You didn’t know how it was possible to share a language just through your shared gaze, but it had you physically gulping. 

“Uh-uh, yeah,” you mumbled, your gaze avoiding Eddie’s. 

“I gotta say though…” He leaned down, almost like he was telling the two of you a secret, “It’s really nice seeing the two of you together, again.” Benny said with a sly smirk.

“‘Bout damn time y’all got together,” He teased further. 

Your eyes widened in unison, both sets of cheeks warming before you spoke up. 

“Oh, no—” You were quick to dismiss with your hands.

“We’re not—” Eddie joined in your protests.

“So, what can I get for you, lovebirds?” He hummed casually, ignoring both of your protests. Your eyes locked before both of you shyly avoided each other’s gaze. “The usual?” 

“Uh-uh, yeah," Eddie grumbled, suddenly more interested in the wooden table. 

When Benny turned toward you, “same for her, but with extra pickles.” Eddie said almost automatically, your brows pinched together and Eddie mentally cursed himself, “I-I mean… if that’s still your order…” His words smushed together, cheeks quick to heat crimson red. 

“It-it is," you mumbled. 

“Alright, comin’ right up,” he threw a wink at the two of you, clueless of the awkwardness apparent in the air. 

It was stupid, all this back and forth all day. You weren’t kids anymore; you should have been able to just be friends and hang out, not fight. Yet, somehow, it had spiraled into a seemingly impossible situation.

Talking it out wasn’t going to do anything. If the two of you wanted any chance to salvage whatever your relationship was, you needed to talk about the bigger picture; everything needed to be spilled out. But neither of you wanted to do that. 

Unspoken feelings were lingering, and none of you knew when they would boil over. Both of you desperately wanted to cling to the promise of being friends and make the most of it. 

There were a lot of things you could say to him; you could choose to talk about Chrissy, you could choose to talk about L.A.; hell, you could choose to talk about his nerdy game, but your curiosity got the best of you, and before you could help it, the words spilled out of your mouth. “What were you doing here last week?” 

Eddie was almost taken aback by your question, not expecting you to be curious about him again after icing him out for so long. “I like coming here,” he shrugged. “Whenever I’m in Hawkins, I drop by, you know, to write some stuff.”

“Here?” Your face scrunched, finding it hard to believe that a greasy diner could ever be inspiring. 

“Yeah,” he chuckled, “most of our second album was produced in this bad boy.” 

"Are you serious?” Your brows raised, “and the rest of the band is just okay following you here?" You narrowed your gaze playfully, your hands finding a resting place on the worn wooden table.

Eddie’s mouth twitched with a smile. “Yeah, actually, they’ve gotten pretty used to it,” he confessed, “you-uh… I don’t know if you ever got to listen to the second one-”

"I did," you interrupted, voice resolute.

“Y-you did?”

“Of course.”

Eddie hesitated before asking, "What did you think of it?"

“Great record, are you kidding me? It had such a unique sound… You know, like, a timeless quality that makes it stand out?” You said excitedly, and he nodded with a raised brow, “that much?” He asked hesitantly.

“I’m not kidding, Eddie. You know how I don’t pull punches with music; if it wasn’t good, I’d tell you in a heartbeat.”

"Which one's your favorite?" Eddie asked, his curiosity piqued.

You pondered for a second before answering, "oh, definitely Aurora!"

Eddie's shaggy bangs fell onto his forehead as he leaned closer, listening intently. "I mean, 'I just kinda died for you, you just kinda stared at me' is genius," you said, your voice filled with admiration. You didn't dare look him in the eyes.

"And really, really sad," you continued, a hint of melancholy in your tone. "The idea that you could give the whole world to someone, to the point where you describe it as dying, and they don’t even see it... it sounds awfully painful." You gulped, your eyes fixed on the worn wooden table. You weren’t stupid; you knew why it was named Aurora; you knew what the lyrics were alluding to.

His car. The same car that the two of you drove around in. The same car drove the two of you out of Hawkins. 

You knew he liked you way before he let you on, and you wish you knew. 

Maybe if you weren’t dating that douchebag, maybe if Eddie said something sooner, maybe if everything that happened when the two of you left didn’t happen… Maybe just maybe, the two of you’d be together now. 

Maybe if the timing was just right, it wouldn’t be like this; he wouldn’t have whatever he had with Chrissy. You wouldn’t have been in New York. 

But what were you supposed to say? What could you say that would change all of this? Even if you told him about what Chrissy did, even if you explained why you had to leave him in L.A., there was no use. The truth couldn't turn back time. You two had ventured down different paths, and it was painfully evident.

He wasn’t the Eddie you knew, and you weren’t the Pinky he knew; it was too fucking late. 

Eddie's mouth hung open in surprise; he hadn't expected you to delve into the song's meaning like this. Aurora was one of the heaviest songs he had ever written, and he held a special attachment to it. The label and the rest of the band had embraced it, which was surprising since they usually rejected his heartbreak songs, wanting more of that unbridled rage. 

He didn’t answer you; there was a weird tension between the two of you again, so you diffused it with, “but kinda lame that you decided to name a song after your car,” while eyeing Eddie to gauge his reaction.

Eddie chuckled. “Oh, bite me,” he teased, "but yeah, that one was also written here, in that same spot you were sitting.”

“Shut up!” You said, hand playfully reaching out to nudge him. 

"And to your question... I can't tell you why I was here last week," Eddie confessed, his voice carrying a hint of mystery.

Your stomach twisted at that, and you didn't know how many more punch-in-the-gut revelations you could handle today. "Why- uhh- why not?" You asked hesitantly, your words stuttering over simple syllables.

"Because then I'd be spoiling the note, dummy," he said, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

A deep breath of relief escaped your stomach, and you chuckled. God, he was a douche. "Wait... so does that mean... I have a song in my pocket?"

"Not exactly."

"I'm the first one to see it, huh?" You asked excitedly, hand teasingly dipping into your pocket.

"You and the rest of the band," Eddie huffed, offering a sheepish grin.

You gave him a quick glare. “You know I could leak this to the press and make millions, right? No more dealing with rude customers, and no more nine to five hours stuck in a record shop?”

He narrowed his gaze. "You can't get shit for that," he mockingly retorted.

"What?" You frowned.

"Yeah, it's basically like the first chorus and some gibberish notes, it's worthless," Eddie explained.

You pouted. "Aww, damn it."

"I'm kidding, I'm excited to read it,” you reassured with a wink, “you know… Maybe I could give you some notes on it? Review it?" You suggested.

“Didn’t know you were a musician.”

“Rude!” You huffed, “I may not be a musician, rockstar. But I sell records for a living. I can promise you, I listened to many more records than you did this year.” You said with a playful smirk.

"How's that like?" Eddie asked curiously, his deep brown eyes resembling longing and curiosity.

You leaned back against the cushioned booth, letting out a wistful sigh. "Working at a record store? A rollercoaster,” you chuckled, “lame in some ways, but also incredibly fascinating. New York's a whole different world compared to Hawkins."

Eddie couldn't help but study your face as you spoke. He noticed the faint traces of insecurity in the way you held yourself—an air of loneliness that came with moving away from everyone you knew and your family leaving you.

"But also, it took me a while to get used to it," you continued. "Nancy and Jonathan used to visit me a lot; they've really helped me adjust.”

“And you know, of course, Robin and Steve, too,” you murmured.

Eddie’s brows shot up at that. So everyone but him. 

It was a sting he couldn't quite shake, burning at his skin, that you decided to abandon him but were fine with everyone else, including Steve. 

Your absence in his life had left a void he couldn't fill, ever.

Yet, here you were, replacing him like it was nothing. 

Eddie knew he had no right to be jealous; you two were just friends, right? But it ate away at him; that feeling seeped through him, even though you were never his to begin with.

His face burned, and his jaw clenched involuntarily. He could almost feel the taste of bitter jealousy in his mouth, considering how it was overtaking his senses. “Steve?” He questioned; gaze seeping through you, an unbrittled rage ready to tip at any moment. 

You didn’t seem to notice it, though. For someone who was usually very perceptive, it flew right by you—that slight tick in his jaw, the way his fists curled, the storm raging beneath the surface.

“Yeah,” you murmured, his head turned away from you, gaze fixed on anything but your face. The other corners of the burger place was suddenly very interesting to him as he grappled with his own emotions.

“It’s pretty crowded in here, right?” you remarked, trying to draw Eddie into the conversation and gauge his mood.

“Uh-huh,” Eddie replied, his gaze remained distant, thoughts elsewhere.

Concern etched across your face as you pressed further, “Uh, are you okay?” Something seemed to be bothering Eddie, and you couldn't pin-point what it was.

“‘M fine,” he dismissed with a wave of his hands. 

He had to distract you and do something else because he was being super fucking weird, and you weren’t dumb; you could read him like a book. 

He didn’t want that awkwardness or tension to reappear; he wanted to talk to you freely, he couldn’t let his insecurities ruin this for him. 

Eddie’s attention turned back to you,  “is that what you want to do with your life?” his brows raised, “The record store, I mean.” He didn’t want to sound rude, he just wanted to know more.

“I don’t know… I never had much time to think about it.” You gave him a small smile, shaking your head gently, “also, I can’t really afford to think about it anyway.”

“But what do you want to do?” He probed.

“Anything concerning art… I mean I’d love to be a tattoo artist, too. That’s the likely path I’m going down, dunno if the salary is good enough, though.” You shrugged, “but you know what I’d love to be?” Eddie leaned closer, his eagerness clear. 

“What?” He asked, genuinely intrigued.

“Someone came in like a month ago, this bearded guy with lots of tattoos… We had a new album coming to our store that day, and he wanted to see them,” you mumbled with a warm smile, eyes glistening with a dreamy glow. “Then he told me about how he was a tattoo artist, but helped make some of the cover art for that album, and then something just like clicked in me.”

“I used to draw with the hope that maybe it could connect with someone, you know, like it did with me… I spent half of my childhood drawing and listening to music as an outlet. Whenever my parents left, whenever they were absent in my life despite ‘being there’, or whenever they had a screaming match, plates thrown at each other, the first thing I did was sketch, anything, on the notebook.” You mumbled, “or I listened to a record, and I let it consume me, in the hopes that it would drive me away from reality, diffuse the pain, even for a split second, and it worked,” you said with a simple smile. 

Eddie hung on to your every word, his gaze never wavering, admiring that creative spirit shining in you. “Art and music shift the world in the best way possible, and maybe it is dramatic but it also saves lives in a way, you know, by helping you get through something, or making you forget. And that’s my biggest wish… to have my art be important to someone, to make them feel like they’re not alone, in any way possible. So when I saw how that guy combined music and art like that, I thought, this is fucking perfect, this is what I need to do.” 

Eddie’s brows pinched together, “why haven’t you done it?” he asked, his voice a soothing lilt that could melt any doubts away. He could listen to you talk about your passions for hours, the way your eyes glistened with hope, that little quirk of your brow did when you found something interesting, it was heavenly to him. 

“C’mon Eds, be realistic,” you murmured sadly. “Half the people that work for a good record company or with a good band have fancy art degrees, they have connections, they have the money, the time to do it. No one’s going to want a nobody who doesn’t even have a college degree from a small town.” Your lips pressed into a thin line.

“Bullshit,” he spat quickly, dismissing the way you so quickly diminished yourself, “I was the trailer trash of Hawkins, and look what happened,” he encouraged in a harsh but also a warm manner, leaning closer. 

“Yeah, but you’re also a guy, Eddie.” Your voice wavered as you pointed out, “t-they have different expectations for women who don’t have those connections, or don’t come from like insanely rich parents… If you know what I mean,” you said with disgusted frowning upon your face, chill running down your spine. 

Eddie immediately picked it up, his face growing to one of concern, “W-wait-” his voice quivered, the color drained from his face quickly, you immediately knew what he was implying and shook your head, “no, no, not me! But I heard lots of stories in New York, it’s just disgusting,” your face scrunched. 

“That’s awful,” Eddie’s jaw clenched in anger, he knew there were a lot of scumbags in the industry, and it pissed him off that he could do nothing about it. He already felt guilty enough that he didn’t realize what a narcissistic asshole Billy really was, he wanted to help any way he could. 

And then, like a sudden light bulb went off in his head, an idea illuminated his mind. “Have I ever told you that our record company is in need of a new art director?” He pouted teasingly. 

Your eyebrows shot up as a giggle escaped your lips. "You're funny," you said, playfully skeptical.

Eddie, ever earnest, replied, "I'm serious."

“I-I can't do that," you said shyly, your fingers toying with the hem of your dress.

Eddie leaned in, and retorted with a, “and why not?"

“It-it feels wrong, and you don’t even know if I’d be good-“ you hesitated, not fully convinced if this was a good idea.

“Bullshit,” Eddie countered firmly, a small smile gracing his lips. “I know how great your art is, and I know how much you care about music, the way you describe it is exactly the reason why I love it so much.” Eddie always took you seriously and encouraged you about your dreams, no matter how unrealistic it was. 

“You know what you said earlier about how you wanted your art to matter to someone?” You nodded, eyes glistening with hope. 

“Your art is important to me, Pinky. The ones you sketched in your notebooks, is what helped me write some of my lyrics. The drawings you made when you were bored in class, the ones I have hung up on my wall still at the trailer… they mean so much to me,” he said in a hushed voice, he dragged his arm on the table, quick to point to the tattoo on his forearm. “This tattoo, is what helped with Corroded Coffin’s symbol bats, you do realize that, right?”

Skeptical, you scoffed, "you guys always had bats as your thing."

 “True,” he agreed, “but your design helped bring it to life.” He shrugged, “and you know the band better than anyone, maybe you could help us with our next album cover, too. I don’t think I could find someone more perfect for the job.” Eddie shrugged and smiled warmly.

“But-”

Your protests were gently silenced by Eddie, who insisted with a soft determination, “No but’s, just say yes, please.” His voice was sweet, sickingly sweet, you couldn’t say no even if you wanted to, and this was the perfect opportunity. 

“I mean I’ll just have a talk with them, show them some of your stuff, so, no promises. But I can be very, very persuasive,” he teased, a wink thrown your way.

You stammered, the excitement bubbling within you. "Y-you'd do that for me?” He nodded surely, “even after everything that happened?" Your tone was muffled, laced with insecurity.

"Anything for you," Eddie reassured as he leaned closer, that familiar, small smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

With your heart aflutter, you finally agreed, excitement breaking through the barriers of your insecurities. "If—if you really are okay with it, I-I'd love to."

“Of course,” he affirmed. 

“Alright!” Benny chimed in, interrupting the two of you. “Two cheeseburgers with a side of fries, and two milkshakes.” He hummed, settling the food in front of both sets of hungry eyes.

“Enjoy, lovebirds!” He said with a smirk, sauntering away to the kitchen. 

“Thank you!” Both of you exclaimed with happiness as you dug into the food.

As you munched on the crispy fries, you admired the other tables, each one occupied by a slice of life that you couldn't help but find intriguing.

One table was for a family of four. All you could hear was the distressed children, their whining echoed through the restaurant. The parents looked drained, faces etched with exhaustion as they juggled plates of half-eaten food, desperately trying to calm down and distract their kids.

Another table was occupied by a couple who was in a heated argument. The man wore a scowl, voice raised in anger, while the woman looked like she was about to cry, her eyes pleading for understanding.

But the last table was the one that you couldn’t tear your eyes away from, it brought a smile to your face. “Oh my god, look,” you said in a hushed voice, gaze pointing toward the booth that was nested in the far right corner.

Eddie was already face-first into his food, “later, ’m eating.” He grumbled. You poked your tongue out at him playfully. “Jesus… Forgot how grumpy you get when you are hungry,” you hummed, flinging a fry in his direction, causing him to pause mid-bite and chuckle.

“Oh, you don't wanna play that game with me, sweetheart,” he teased, dangling a fry in front of your face.

You grinned, your eyes dancing with excitement. “Just one look, and I’ll be out of your curly unbrushed hair, Munson,” you joked with a giggle.

His eyes rolled quickly, “you won’t stop until you get what you want, will you?” He asked with an annoyed tilt of his head.

You shook your head with a giggle. “Fine,” he huffed jokingly, dipping the fry in his hand into the vanilla milkshake, making an exaggerated sound of satisfaction as he devoured it.

“Gross.” You commented with mock disgust, and he rolled his eyes in response.

“Just tell me which table.” Eddie leaned in, his curiosity piqued as your gaze moved toward the couple at the adjacent booth. The girl was wearing a plaid mini skirt, expertly paired with a statement crop-top covered by an oversized leather jacket wrapped around her shoulders, likely borrowed from the curly-haired brunette sitting on the opposite side of the booth.

Her head was thrown back, and laughter danced in her eyes as she hung on to every word of the story he was telling. The curly haired brunette guy had a graphic band-tee and a guitar pick adorning his neck. Mascara smudged and eyes all red; you knew they probably had a long night. 

It reminded him of something, or rather, someone. 

He looked at you with his brows scrunched up, and you replied to him with a giggle. Both of you were thinking the same thing. 

“That’s fuckin’ weird.” Eddie mumbled with a mouthful of his juicy cheeseburger. “Are those our… doppelgangers?” 

“Right?” You almost mirrored him, taking a bite from your cheeseburger as you leaned further on your elbows. “What do you think their story is?”

“Uhhh-” Eddie grumbled, “us from five years ago?” His mouth partially obscured by the burger as he chewed thoughtfully, a furrow in his brow. 

“Such a detailed story!” You mocked. He couldn't help but notice how the dim diner lighting accentuated your features—plump lips looking so soft from the way you frustratingly groaned—which brought an unintentional smile to his face.

You were so breathtakingly pretty; even when you were munching on a burger, he was absolutely whipped.

Eddie shrugged, that shit-eating grin still on his face. He looked you dead in the eye before he took another big bite, stuffing more fries into his mouth. 

“Fine, I’ll give them a story,” you narrowed your gaze, “and you can keep eating your gross milkshake dipped fries,” you mocked, straightening up your back as you leaned closer, licking your lips before you spoke.

“So the girl… she’s pretty, like really, really pretty.” You said with a sly grin, your gaze now focused on the couple in question; if he wasn’t going to participate, then you could just drag this further. 

“And there’s the guy." You gestured toward the other booth, gaze narrowing as you turned back to Eddie. “He’s just... there, I guess, kind of looks like a douche,” you mocked, mouth scrunching as you looked at Eddie all-knowingly, head tilted to the side.

Eddie scoffed, responding with a lighthearted yet passionate defense of himself. “He looks like a total stud,” he grumbled in between bites with a smirk, “and that band-tee? He’s so fuckin’ cool.”

“Oh, yeah?” You challenged, “I think he’s a total nerd, bet he’s telling his dorky D&D stories to his best friend.” 

He stuck his tongue out, a carefree grin on his face, “Hey! You said you loved my campaigns!” He exclaimed and playfully tossed a soggy fry at you. 

You gasped dramatically, reaching for another fry to retaliate before Eddie’s unreadable expression had you frozen. “Shit, I totally forgot, what time is it?”

“Oh, you’re not getting away with that, Munson, we’re in a full fledged food war now,” you teased, holding a fry aloft, your gaze narrowing in mock seriousness.

“No, no, I’m serious.” Eddie insisted, causing you to huff in response. You turned your back to try to read the old-fashioned clock that stood on the wall. 

“Uh… 1.15, why?” you replied, your brows furrowed in confusion, trying to understand him.

“Shit! Shit, shit!” He cursed, getting up quickly while he started gathering his things.

“What?” You asked with a puzzled look.

“Wayne!” He exclaimed making you furrow your brows.

“What about Wayne?” 

“I promised to pick him up after his shift,” he explained with a sigh. “You know, since I kinda have the car.”

"Well, when did it end?” you inquired, still calm as you took another bite from your burger.

He eyed you with urgency. “15 minutes ago,” grumbling, he shoved whatever was left of his food into his mouth. 

“So, I’m going to see Wayne?” You asked with a smile. 

“If we don’t hurry up, you’re going to see me dead,” he exclaimed dramatically, making you roll your eyes. 

“You need to inhale all of that, now!” He screeched, and you looked up at him with a pout. 

“Now!” He snapped, hands clapping in front of your face. 

“Okay, okay, jesus!” You groaned, taking a deep breath, before you shoved a generous handful of fries in your mouth. 

-

When Eddie led you to the car, all you could think about was how Wayne would react—would he be mad at you? Would he be disappointed? 

Goosebumps appeared when a chill ran down your spine, you didn’t know if you could handle it. Wayne had been a staple in your life up until you left, he fed you, he listened to you when you needed it, he gave you a place to sleep, and he always reassured you that you were always welcome in their home.

And you didn’t even bother to say goodbye to him. Not that you didn’t want to; it’s because you couldn’t. When you and Eddie left, it was in a hurry. You had no time to tell anyone, not even Eddie told Wayne until you two were half-way there to California. 

But it still didn’t stop your guilt, it still didn’t help the way your stomach twisted at the mention of his name. 

Your feet picked up quickly as the thoughts filled your head, only stopping when Eddie called out to you. “I have to tell you somethin’” Eddie mumbled, eyes squeezing shut. 

A huff of air was quick to escape your lips, you knew it was too perfect to end like this, you knew he was going to ruin it. 

“She-uh… she’s coming to brunch tomorrow.”

You froze in place, almost everything fit like a puzzle in your mind now, and you didn’t know which emotion to feel first. 

Anger, jealousy, or sadness. 

And all three of them hit you at the same time. Because it made sense now, it was clear. He liked Chrissy. He wanted Chrissy. 

He wanted to move on with her. 

He had your heart in his hands, but this time he wasn’t toying with it; he was stomping on it, over and over again, not stopping until he was sure it was beyond salvageable. 

Hand almost frozen in the place you opened the car door without a word, settling into the passenger seat like nothing had happened. 

“Shit,” he cursed under his breath before he opened his side of the door, getting inside swiftly just to turn to you, “are you not gonna say anything?” he asked, voice carrying a desperate tone.

Your gaze remained fixed outside the window, your cheek pressed against the cool glass. “We’re going to be late,” you replied with a cold, unfeeling tone. Silence filled the car, mirroring the gaping void that now existed between you two.

Thankfully, Aurora didn’t give him any trouble when he started the ignition with a key turn, and the engine roared to life. You didn’t want to speak; you didn’t want to say anything to him. You wanted to save all of your emotions, contain them in the depths of your mind, and cry yourself to sleep. You didn’t want him to know how much this crushed you. 

But you couldn’t just do that; too disappointed to let it slide, the words escaped your mouth like a dam breaking, “I can’t fucking believe you.” 

“Just, listen, I-I didn’t even invite her-” Eddie tried to explain, but you weren't listening, you didn’t care, you were letting it all out. 

“How would you fucking feel if I kissed… Jason in front of you?” Eddie opened his mouth to answer, but you continued, “how would you feel if I invited him to brunch tomorrow?

Once you took a deep breath to gather your thoughts, he scoffed. “That’s not the same thing, Pinky. Carver made my life a living hell, he was a miserable bully.”

You should tell him, you should tell him what exactly Chrissy did to you.

You should tell him the whole story of that night at Steve’s party. 

The part he didn’t know. 

But you don’t. 

Because you’re too busy to worry about whether he actually wants to be with her or not, your mind felt full, anxieties and worries dancing around in it. 

“And Chrissy kissed Billy!” Your mouth dried up when that name left your mouth, you could feel that dreadful feeling consuming your chest. 

That night was still a blur to you—the way you caught them, the things Chrissy said to you, the way Billy swore that she initiated the kiss. 

Eddie shook his head. “She said it was a misunderstanding.”

You rubbed your fingertips on your forehead in disbelief. “And you believe her over me?” you asked, tone carrying a tinge of hurt and betrayal. The question hung heavy between the two of you.

“No, no!” He yelled out. “Jesus fucking Christ, stop putting words in my mouth, Pinky!” Eddie groaned in frustration, his hands gripping the steering wheel. “She explained it was a misunderstanding, and she does want to tell you that, too… maybe you could talk to her—”

You let out an exasperated chuckle, not interested in entertaining the idea. “no fucking way.” 

“If you want to be with her, then just fucking say that, Munson, don’t do all this fuckin’ bullshit,” you added, crossing your arms against your chest. 

“I don’t want- oh, you’re unbelievable!” He snapped, head bumping against the headrest of his van. 

“You make it fucking impossible to start over!”

“Wh-what does that even mean?” You retorted back.

“J-just when I’m about to start over, just when I-I’m going to…” He rolled his tongue inside of his cheek in rage as he paused to better explain himself. 

“I find a picture of you in my wallet that you put… or, or Nancy and Jonathan tell me that you invited them over…” You were on the brink of retorting when he continued, “or, or, you- you just barge back into town like you never left; talk to me like nothing fuckin’ happened.”

You didn’t dare to open your mouth; everything he said made you feel guilty. But everything he felt, you felt, too. Each time you felt like moving on, each time you wanted to try to be with someone, you physically couldn’t. 

Maybe it was selfish that you liked hearing him feel the same way too. That’s why the way he was being so vague about whatever he had with Chrissy was like a stab to your heart, in the most non-dramatic way possible. 

“You know… I used to think you were the best thing that ever happened to me… I used to think that you w-would always be in my life. That you’d be the one fuckin’ person who’d never leave me.” Eddie's voice trembled, and your throat was quick to tighten, lump forming as his words began to sink in. It felt like the car grew darker the more he spoke, your world crumbling down with it. 

“I was wrong about all of that... all you fuckin’ did was ruin it… You ruined my life.”

The faint strains of heavy metal playing on the car's stereo seemed distant, before you spoke up, wobbly lips slurring your words. “I… I r-ruined your life?” You slumped back on your seat with his words slicing through you like a knife, gnawing at your insecurities.

“Y-you really think that?” Words barely escaped your lips, voice quivering. 

He opened his plushy lips to speak, but he couldn’t answer; words died down in his throat, his gaze fixated on the road, lips pressed into a tight line. 

That in itself was an answer, you knew it, and he knew it. You felt exposed to him, like he knew your insecurities but still did nothing to hide them. 

You couldn't help but feel a hot prickle behind your eyes, the unshed tears were getting harder to hold back. You bit back on your wobbly lip, in an attempt to conceal the pent-up emotions that were begging to be let out. “This… this whole thing was a mistake,” you murmured, voice hushed and heavy with regret. The words felt like stones in your mouth, bitter and unpalatable. 

“We-we were caught up in ourselves, ther-there’s no fuckin’ way we could ever be friends,” you continued, driving home the painful truth, just so you could hurt him like he hurt you, just so you didn’t want him to know how pathetically you still wanted to be with him in any way possible. 

“I agree,” he grumbled, eyes still on the road. Tears streamed down your cheeks, tracing glistening paths along your cheeks, you didn’t even attempt to wipe them. Sniffles punctuated the air, body shuddering with an attempt to suppress your sobs, but then again, they were drowned out by the heavy metal music that echoed in the car. 

Eddie’s gaze fell on you every few seconds; but you didn’t seem to notice. And the guilt ate away at him, too, his brows furrowed in agony. He knew that wasn’t what he meant to say. He didn’t mean it in that way, you didn’t ruin his life; you never could—well, not until you left him. 

His knuckles tightened on the steering wheel; this wasn’t how everything was supposed to happen. He didn’t even invite Chrissy; she asked to come, and of course Eddie said yes, what else could he do? So he just wanted to give you a heads up. Just so things wouldn’t get bad between the two of you again, but he managed to screw it up.

Grumbles and some curses were all the two of you could hear when Eddie pulled up to Wayne’s workplace. With a huff of breath, your car door hung open. “I’ve been waiting for thirty minutes, rockstar; you better have some good fuckin’ excuse-” Wayne’s eyes widened the second his gaze met your sad figure.

“Jesus H. Christ!” Wayne exclaimed as if seeing a ghost. “Am I seein' that right? Is that who I think it is?” Despite the heartache gnawing at your insides, you managed a smile.

"Hi, Wayne," you mumbled shyly. Wayne, however, wasn't having it. "Oh, you're not gettin' off with a simple 'hey,' come over here, kid!" He said excitedly, pulling you into a bear-hug. The embrace was tight enough to make you giggle and sniffle, an unfamiliar smile on your lips.

“Where the hell have ya been?” Wayne inquired once he let you go. 

You tried to get up, offering him the front seat, he shook his head, hands holding you down by your shoulders, not wanting to interrupt the two of you.

You told him about everything—New York, your job, how you got here. Everything. 

And all Eddie did was drive; he didn’t look at you or even Wayne for all that mattered—not a single glance. And of course, this didn’t go unnoticed by Wayne. 

“Alright, kids, you two are bein' weird…” Wayne grumbled, glancing at Eddie. “Tell me what the hell happened. Some kind of lover's quarrel?” Eddie scoffed, and you couldn't help but snap your head in his direction.

"Somethin' funny, boy?" Wayne added, narrowing his gaze at his niece. Eddie sighed but still avoided both of your gazes.

“No, no, uhh- nothing happened.” He murmured.

Your gaze narrowed, and you couldn’t help the anger inside of you. “That’s funny, that is not how I remember it.” 

Wayne’s brows furrowed before he leaned closer to the front seat. “What happened, P? You know you can always tell me anythin’” he murmured with a reassuring tone. 

Eddie scoffed, rolling his eyes, but you ignored him, “he is with Chrissy,” you said, scrunching your face as you turned to gauge Wayne's reaction.

Wayne's brows tilted together, his eyes narrowing as he tried to remember that name. “You remember her? Strawberry blonde hair and-”

“The blondie that made you cry?” you nodded, “with that Hargrove kid?” 

“See, even Wayne remembers,” you grumbled, slightly elbowing Eddie to get a reaction out of him, only earning an offended huff.  

“I never liked him, you know,” Wayne continued, large hands gesturing vaguely to emphasize his point, “always thought you were way too good for him. A guy like him has no business with my Pinky.” You leaned further into the headrest, fingers fiddling with your jacket as you gave Wayne a weak smile. 

“Should’ve listened to you,” you hummed. 

“So Eddie is with her?” Wayne mumbled, face souring. 

“Boy, have you lost your damn mind?” Wayne was quick to chide Eddie, who was drumming his fingers on the steering wheel in an attempt to not snap at either of you. 

But it wasn’t working. 

"I told you I'm not with her!" he hissed, voice dripping with irritation. He shot a glare at Wayne through the rearview mirror, but his words were directed at you. 

“How would you explain kissing her and inviting her to our friend's brunch!” You snapped in Eddie’s direction. 

“Eddie, tell me you did not do that!”

“It-it’s not like that, Wayne.”

“Oh, really? What is it like?” You gruffly asked, curiosity and hurt evident in your tone.

“Eddie…” Wayne warned him shushingly with a disappointed look, he could see how much you were hurting, and he knew Eddie was a bit oblivious.

“What?” he groaned.

“Don’t worry, Wayne, he just enjoys playing with my feelings,” you replied with a scoff, fingers tracing the pattern on the car’s leather seats, a relief to your pent-up emotions.

“Oh, you’re one to fuckin’ talk,” Eddie muttered under his breath with an out of place chuckle, his anger overflowing after holding it back for so long. “Newsflash, princess. You weren’t the one to wake up all alone in L.A. with one fucking note, I was!” He yelled, words punctuated by the heavy breath he took between each sentence. 

“You should be grateful you have two notes in that pocket of yours because I barely got one!” 

“Will you stop bringing that up?” You plead, lip wobbling as you bit on it harshly to stop your emotions from spilling. 

“‘I can’t do this, sorry.’” He recited your words, and you refused to look at him. “Five letters, Pinky. Not even six. Five. You left me with that—no goodbyes, no nothin’, just a sticky fuckin’ note attached to the fridge.” His head snapped toward you.

A loud chuckle left your mouth, you turned to him with rage, and Wayne knew he had to step in or it was going to get ugly, even uglier than, whatever this was. “This isn’t even about that-”

“Alright, alright!” He interrupted, hands waving in the space between the two of you. 

“Simmer down, both of you! I know the two of you have a lot of unresolved shit… but don’t burn this bridge,” he warned, “not again.” Wayne’s words were quick to disperse the emotional fog that had surrounded the car. 

“The thing, whatever the hell it is, that y’all have… people spend their whole fuckin’ life lookin’ for it… Don’t be dumb.” That was enough to have the two of you shut up. 

“Talk it out.” He said, firm but fair. “I know you’ve both been hurt, so, be honest with each other, and apologize,” he continued, urging both of you to confront each other.

“Okay?” He asked, head hanging in the space between the two of you. 

“Okay,” both of you mumbled in unison, backs turned toward each other.

‘Too late’ was all you could think; that bridge was already burned. There was no way the two of you could ever go back now, right?

A sigh of relief escaped your lips when Eddie finally pulled up to your house, you didn’t waste any time saying goodbye to Eddie before turning to Wayne and giving him a hug. 

“See you around?” You asked with a hopeful smile.

“You better!” Wayne warned playfully, evoking a giggle from you. “You gotta drop by sometime, promise?” He asked with a sly grin, he knew exactly what he was doing. 

You didn’t want to see Eddie anymore than you had to now, but if Wayne asked you to do something, you’d do it in a heartbeat. 

You looked back at Eddie, your gazes connecting for a second before both of you turned away. “Uh-huh, promise,” you mumbled before exiting quickly. 

“What the hell are you doin’, kid?” Wayne exclaimed the moment you left, causing Eddie to look at him with a puzzled expression.

“Walk her to her door, for Christ’s sake!”

“I-I don’t think that’s a great idea,” Eddie explained hesitantly.

“Where are your manners?” Wayne scolded him, raising his voice. Eddie grumbled in frustration but ultimately gave in, cussing under his breath as he exited the car to follow you.

He ran after you, breathless once he finally caught up to you. “Sorry, I should’ve walked you-” He mumbled

You shook your head interrupting him, “no, it’s fine.” 

“So, uhhh…” He started, gaining your attention back to him. “Goodnight.” Eddie grumbled with a scratch of his head, barely able to look at you. He didn’t want to leave things like this, but the damage was already done. You could see the guilt in his eyes, but it didn’t matter now. 

He wondered what you would think of the notes; would you even read them? Would you get mad at him for the things he wrote? 

“Goodnight, Eddie.” You muttered back, turning to the door as you avoided looking at him, your finger shakily retrieved your key as you fumbled with it, doing everything in your willpower to not turn back at him. 

Eddie walked away with the same thoughts eating away at him. Were you going to look back at him? The temptation got the best of him, and he turned with a shy nod. You were struggling with your keys, muttering in frustration, and the sight unintentionally brought a smile to his lips before he hurried back to his car.

The moment you heard his car door open, you turned, slowly and reluctantly, only for your gaze to meet Wayne’s, who had an all-knowing smirk playing at his lips, waving at you. 

You gave him a shy smile before you hurriedly turned your back, finally opening the door and rushing inside. 

“You idiot lovebirds are goin’ to be the death of me,” Wayne grumbled to himself with a shake of his head, watching the way you scurried inside.

Once you locked the door, you rested against it, a sigh of relief escaping your lips. Your thoughts were swirling,but there was only one thing that was overpowering everything else; the note. 

You furiously searched for it in your pocket, curiosity filling the course of your veins as you fished it out of the left one, your hand shaking as you held it in front of your eyes. 

The words scribbled in the closed note had your heart racing, afraid of what it was going to say, once you fully opened it, your eyes roamed through it quickly.

The note was dated a week ago. 

Don't fool yourself,

She was heartache from the moment that you met her.

My heart feels so still

As I try to find the will to forget her, somehow.

Oh I think I've forgotten her now.

(Is it obvious this last line is sarcasm?) 

Your fingers traced the line that had the parenthesis and were crossed out. Eddie’s notes. If you the tears that escaped your burning eyes weren’t distorting your vision, maybe you would’ve appreciated some of the lyrics, and his funny notes, even though they were messy and all over the place.

I don’t blame you, but sometimes I wish we hadn’t met. (This is kinda too out there, but there could be something from this???)

Your heart pounded against your ribcage—that familiar ache that never fully left returned with a sharper pain. It hurt that he thought of you in this way. He thought you ruined his life, and now he wished he had never met you. 

Those thoughts sank into your brain, and the anger that came with them was something you couldn’t comprehend. There was a lot more of the scribbled nonsense that you couldn’t read, other lyrics that were scratched out. 

Your hands were shaking once you flipped it over. The other note was dated today. 

I lied, didn’t I? I think I would prefer all the heartache in the world to not knowing you. I didn’t even realize that until today. Until I saw you across the room. And I can’t even explain how good it felt to look up and see you standing there. Even with that frown adorning your face.

Your tears hadn’t stopped, falling onto the piece of crumpled up paper and making a mess. 

You felt like an idiot; you should’ve told him when you had the chance, and you had a lot of them. You were angry that you let everyone walk over you. You were angry that Billy had gotten away with everything. And now, Chrissy had a chance with him without ever paying for the consequences of what she did. 

You couldn’t let that happen.

You didn’t want to be polite with your sadness anymore You didn’t want to absorb everyone’s pain to make sure they were okay. And you hated that that’s what you did essentially did when you didn’t tell Eddie about Chrissy. 

You paced around the room, biting down on your nails. 

Should you tell him? Or was that too selfish?

Because if you wanted to tell him, you had just the perfect opportunity to tell him and confront Chrissy; the brunch. 

✦ final authors note —ALSO THE CHRISSY STUFF WILL BE REVEALED NEXT CHAPTER. IM SORRY FOR TEASING IT SO LONG BUT THE REVEAL IS GONNA BE GOOD I PROMISE LMAO. if you like this series pls support me by rbing liking and commenting ily thank youu🫶🏻 [EDIT: i forgot to say this but ofc the lyrics are not mine they are by jeff buckley’s incredible song “forget her” i listened to it A LOT writing this chapter👀 also if u can guess what the chapters title is inspired by ily]

permanent taglist (lmk if u want to be added): @mandyjo8719 @kellsck @batkin028 @hideoutside @sashaphantomhive @nabiiturner @andvys (ILY.)

[olderthannetfic]

I have a fandom friend who isn't shy about sending me her fics in the DMs and asking me to read them (not as in beta reading but as in link to AO3).

The thing is, they're really not up my alley because I'm really finnicky about style and story construction and the like: her fics have a lot of telling and not a lot of showing, there's rarely significant tension or change (which might not bother some but it does bother ME personally as a reader), so there's nothing pushing me to read on, and she usually writes detached scenes from the AUs she has in her head, which feels a bit like someone grabbing me by the pussy with no foreplay. I'm not that familiar with the version of the characters/story from the AU so I'm not attached to those storylines the way she is (again, no buildup of tension that makes the emotional scene hit right).

Basically, I really enjoy talking about The Blorbos with her but every time I have to read something of hers it feels like a chore and I either get bored in two paragraphs or my hand starts itching for a red pen. Sometimes I just put it off and hope she forgets but I feel awful and guilty about it because she clearly cares about her fic (it's just too self-indulgent for me to enjoy it from the outside).

She never asks for feedback, so I think it would be incredibly rude to give unsolicited critique or, like, suggest that I could be a beta reader (with how forward she is she'd have asked already if she wanted it).

How do I address this? I want to keep being on friendly terms with her and I'd be open to reading more from her if she fixed some of the consistent issues with her writing (I think the CONCEPTS she entertains are interesting and cool), but also for me the joy of having a hobby is being able to engage with it on my own terms without having "required reading" and what's going on right now ain't it.

(I'm aware that this will make so many people feel really insecure and paranoid about their own writing/readership and I'm sorry for that :/ I'm sure there are people who do enjoy my friend's fic as is, but I can't help my own preferences or attention span)

--

Does she press you for a reaction? If a friend sends me a link, I often thank them for it but don't actually read. Or maybe I skim it or something but don't actually say much to them about it.

I think it's fine to go "I posted a thing!" with the link and expect a "Wow, you finished that so fast!" or "Congrats on finally finishing that longfic!" or whatever. I think it's unwise to expect one's friends to read all of one's work, to like one's work, and to give praise. That way lies disappointment and awkward feelings on both sides.

[sandwhitches]

hi, i am here for your writing event if i may request something. can i have spf 50 w/ sakusa and anything by adrianne lenker? thanks a lot, have a good day

a/n: i literally dashed to my laptop to write this i LOVE adrianne lenker AAHHHHHHHHH!!!!!! thank u for ur request, enjoy! :3 (also!! i was unexpectedly busy this afternoon but i’m totally gonna get to the other requests soon, sorry yall!)

𝐀𝐍𝐘𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 | 𝐬. 𝐤𝐢𝐲𝐨𝐨𝐦𝐢

genre: fluff

content: gn. reader, established relationship, one reference to an injury requiring stitches (no graphic detail)

wc: 572

this is a part of my summer writing event!!! please feel free to send some requests my way :3

It’s never been odd for the two of you to sit in your carefully tenderly woven blanket of silence for hours on end. Sakusa, who is without a doubt the quietest person you’ve ever known, still manages to have a myriad of words behind his eyes.

With every lazy blink in your direction and delicate shift of his thumb against your hip, it feels as if everything he’s thinking is practically tangible, sitting on the palm of your hand. What is he saying now when he noses into the skin of your neck? 

As you pretend to doze off in his arms, you realize it’s always been this way, that there is never a moment in which you knew Sakusa without knowing him. Long gone are the days of high school in which too much class time was spent pretending not to see the other staring, hearts beating with the thrill of a new crush, wondering who will cross the line you’ve been toeing for months. 

You’ve learned, though, that it doesn’t take much to love Kiyoomi, he’s made himself all too easy to read for you. Perhaps this is the result of everything that led you to this moment, swallowed in his arms as the late afternoon sun begins to bleed into inky twilight.

After high school, it was the moments spent biking back and forth from each other’s dormitories too late in the night, that first December in your cramped apartment in which you two got ahead of yourself when sending out invitations for a holiday dinner, or the empathetic kisses placed on your forehead as the doctor stitched up your results of getting too crafty cutting a cucumber. 

Somewhere along that line, you’re sure lies the gradual formation of a moment in which words no longer needed to be present for a conversation. Touch substitutes for dozens of different amorous declarations that you both already know, the feeling of his slowing breath on your skin tells you that he doesn’t want to move for a very long time.

To you, the idea of spending the rest of your life with someone who knows you as thoroughly as Sakusa used to be daunting, the terrifyingly constant exposure to someone who is always watching. In spite of this, there’s nothing that brings you more comfort now than knowing that Kiyoomi will always know exactly what’s on your mind without the need to ask, and there’s nothing that brings him more comfort than giving you exactly what you need before you know you need it. 

There’s one thing Sakusa has learned about love: it is perfectly simple to do when it is spent on the right person. You, in his mind, are without a doubt always going to be the right person, the only person he doesn’t mind watching him in return. 

Sakusa knows that you haven’t actually been asleep, he can’t be fooled by the delicate display of your eyes so lightly shut. His face comes closer to yours, pressing a featherlight kiss on each of your eyelids, I know you’re awake, his kisses say. Just as he expected, your eyes flutter open, and he’s rendered speechless sometimes when it hits him that it is his arms you sleep in every night.

Maybe things like luck and fate are real, maybe they’re not, but just this once Kiyoomi wants to believe that this is how things were always going to be.

[six-eyed-samurai]

Hello ! (I’m not sure if your requests are open but I love your fics so I really wanted to try 😭) Could you maybe write a Genya x Male reader one ? Where like Genya deals with confusion and internalised homophobia after realising he fell in love with a guy ? IM SO SORRY IF YOU DONT DO MALE READERS OR SMTH LIKE THAT, HAVE A GOOD DAY !!

SUMMARY: Genya's emotionally constipated. It's the Shinazugawa genes - but even more so when it comes to...guys?!

A/N: KYAAH Ty anon glad you enjoyed, and DW my inbox is open anytime I'm just a little slow in writing rn because of exams and I'm moving house. I have done male reader before but I'm not too used to writing gay T-T so I'm sorry if this turned out the way you wanted

WARNINGS: Male reader in case you don't read the asks and only warnings/Minor swearing

Much romance happens at Kimetsu Academy.

There's Zenitsu and Nezuko, although Genya considers it more of an obsession on the blonde’s end seeing as Nezuko doesn't openly display any signs of liking him back romantically, whatever the delusional idiot thinks. There's also Tanjiro and Kanao, the perfect epitome of friends to lovers. And whatever Aoi and Inosuke have going on.

But none of that ever happened to Genya. Sure, he thought the occasional girl was pretty or nice, but aside from the fact he explodes into a tomato just from a simple “hello” he's never been actually interested. Of course that occasionally made him feel a bit left out amongst his friends, like he was missing something great, but hey, Muichiro and him would be single pringles forever and that was fine.

(Genya's very betrayed to find out Muichiro had received a confession…and was considering accepting it.)

But it was a little unbelievable to the Kamaboko Squad that in all of the sixteen years of his life he had never had a crush, hence the interrogation they were giving him that particular day during lunch.

“Have you never fallen in love? At all?!” Genya wants to snort; as if Zenitsu would ever notice anybody else's love life but his own.

“HAHAHAHAA! LOSER!”

Tanjiro calmly shoved Inosuke away from a fuming Genya, smiling brightly. “I'm sure Genya has one! And we'll be more than happy to help him confess!”

“Aren't crushes supposed to be secret-”

“Then we have to figure out who it is first!” Zenitsu hollers.

“No-”

“Is it Kocho?!”

Kanao, Tanjiro and Genya both look scandalised but Zenitsu barrels on. Aoi face palms. Inosuke steals everyone's food.

“Is it Kanrojii?!”

“Why is everyone you're listing so much older than me!”

“OKAY, OKAY! Uh…Koyuki-”

“SHE'S ENGAGED TO SOMEONE ELSE!”

“Sheesh, I got it, stop yelling! That Shabana girl?”

“Just why-”

“Maybe Genya does like someone but just doesn't realize it,” Kanao offers timidly.

“That's a good point, Kanao!” Tanjiro beams, causing Genya and Kanao to flush red but for entirely different reasons.

“How am I supposed to know if I like someone?”

“If you find them cute?”

“That seems really superficial,” Aoi says disapprovingly.

“You'll get really nervous around them, like your heart speeds up. You'll probably stare at them a lot too, and want to do lots of things for them, maybe hold open doors?” Tanjiro nods wisely.

“And they're the first person you look at to see if they're laughing at a joke,” Kanao agrees.

Genya considers. “Then none of the girls you just listed, honestly.”

“It's alright, you'll find the one for you one day. There's no rush now.”

“HAHAHA! TENYA IIDA IS GOING TO BE ALONE FOREVER! HAHAHHAA!”

“MY NAME IS GENYA!”

***

Truth be told Genya had lied.

It wasn't a lie exactly either. More of…an avoidance of the truth. He didn't feel that way about any girls Zenitsu had mentioned, or any of the girls at school.

But he did like someone, yes.

Or no. Definitely not. It couldn't possibly be.

“Oh, hey, Shinazugawa.” Your simple wave as you joined his side outside the classroom door was enough to get his heart pounding and slightly sweaty like he had just suffered an entire class with the gym teacher Tomioka.

“Thanks for holding the door!” You call out over your shoulder, flashing him a bright smile while entering the class and taking your seat. You immediately turn to start talking with your friends, something Genya's extreme thankfully for because then you can't see the tomato red that's painting his face as he's still stuck, frozen and speechless, by the door. Only Iguro-sensei’s cold “Do you plan to have the lesson by the door or something?” Shook him out of it.

You're so confusing, Genya thinks, averting his eyes when you catch his with a mouthed “oops” and raised eyebrows, because he wants to revel in your attention and hide in a hole from it at the same time.

It was a pleasant kind of confusion, though. The kind he wouldn't mind thinking about forever; it gave him an oddly warm, fidgety feeling inside like he had just drunk an entire thermos of hot chocolate and got marshmallows to top it off. Then he promptly slaps himself (mentally) because he shouldn't be thinking about this, that and you.

Not like it stopped him from staring at the back of your head all through class. He doesn't realize it until your friend turns their head around and makes a face at him, leaning closer to you to whisper something. Genya panics and ducks his head, burying it into his arms for a few minutes before he judges it's safe to look up.

And when he does you're smiling at him knowingly, as if the both of you knew something the rest don't. Oh good lord.

Your laughter is something Genya wishes he could make as well, when the whole class watches Iguro-sensei trying to tell Inosuke off, but the dumbass can't get the teacher’s name right at all. He finds himself laughing as well, a combination of that and because of you before it hits him.

“You'll get really nervous around them, like your heart speeds up. You'll probably stare at them a lot too, and want to do lots of things for them, maybe hold open doors?”

Oh shit. Check, check, check.

“And they're the first person you look at to see if they're laughing at a joke.”

And check?!

Shit shit shit shit shit-

Genya groans. He does like you after all.

But that's not right, it's got to be wrong.

You're a boy. Genya's not gay…at least he didn't think so…Then again he's never actually liked a girl. But he's never liked a boy either. Until you.

Forget it! You're not a crush, you're the reason why Genya is going to drive himself crazy right now! Hell, why did the idea feel so wrong but so right at the same time?

Genya rubbed his temples. If he was being honest the idea only seemed so wrong because…well, because he's just never considered that possibility before. It just hasn't really occured to him he might be attracted to the same gender. It's a new concept, yes, but…not really a terrible one. He got all red with girls yes but it wasn't because he like-liked them or thought they were cute.

Was crushing on a guy really going to be any different than a girl then? Genya groaned again. Judging by his behaviour these days…yeah, not really.

Okay, then if hypothetically he DID like you and he liked guys…how would Sanemi and his friends react? Would they still want to hang out with him? Would Sanemi still…consider him his brother? What would his mom think?

What a headache. What would…you think? It'd be pretty embarrassing to like you and you're straight, Genya thought. Then again was he even sure he was gay, even certain he had a big fat crush on you?

“Hey, you alright?” The voice startles Genya out of his thoughts. He lifts up his head and looks around, startled to see everyone's left. Shit, he hadn't even realized class was over. Idiot.

He glances to his left and nearly dies of fright.

You cock an eyebrow. “Um, seeing a ghost, Genya?”

“No!” He just about shouts, flailing his arms as he tries to stop himself from falling out of his chair. “I'm fine! Really! Sorry…just, just kinda out of it.”

“Wanna talk about it?”

Yeah, let's talk about how I've just realized I might be-

“It's fine, it's nothing important.” Genya notices your fidgeting however. “What about you?”

You hesitate. You're playing with your sleeves quite nervously. It's making him paranoid.

“I'm just…there's a new arcade that just opened up.”

“Sounds fun,” Genya offers. He's got barely enough brain cells still functioning from the close proximity between you both.

“I was wondering - um, do you wanna go with me? I can buy all the tokens,” you quickly blurted out and held your breath.

“Sure.”

“N-no. Just you and me. Like on a date.” You rub the back of your neck, looking away. “No - no pressure or anything! I know you might not be into guys, you might already like a girl-"

“You're gay.”

You wince at his tone. Genya wishes he hadn't sounded so accusing. “Last I checked, yeah.”

“Sounds fun,” Genya repeats dumbly, because holy shit, you like him you like guys too he likes guys he really wants to go to the arcade with you oh thank god-

You blink. “So that's a…yes?”

“Absolutely.” Genya waves his hands frantically. “If you're still up for it! Nothing’s awkward! I - I do want to go as a date, not as friends, and, uh-"

He snaps his head away, embarrassed, but he glances back long enough to see you grinning like you've won the lottery.

"Does 2 pm work for you?"

Shit. He really does like you after all. And with the way you're smiling at him like that maybe he can deal with whatever bullshit that's going to come next.

***

“Hey Genya, do you want to come over this weekend?”

“Muichiro wants to go to that pizza place again.”

The Tokito twins stare at him expectantly over the usual din of the Kamaboko Squad's usual shenanigans. Now or never.

“Sorry, I'm busy.”

“With what?” Muichiro looks out off; Yuichiro frowns in surprise.

“With someone.”

The silence was so thick you could've cut it with a knife - or Zenitsu's screaming.

“WHO?”

“HAR?!”

“Is it a date?” Tanjiro managed to slap a hand over the blonde's mouth while Aoi deals with Inosuke. The twins and Kanao's mouths hang open in surprise.

Genya picked at his food. “Yeah. At the new arcade.”

“Congratulations!”

“I thought you were planning to be single forever-”

“Shut up, Mui!”

“With who?"

He says your name and again the silence is thick.

Tanjiro's eyes light up in recognition and shock. “Isn't that the new boy?”

Genya nods stiffly.

“You're…gay?” Kanao asks tentatively.

Genya nods again.

“I had no idea! I never would've guessed either.” Tanjiro shakes his head, stunned. Much to Genya's relief…he's smiling? “But good for you, Genya, I'm sure you'll enjoy the date!”

This wasn't so bad after all. It's like a weight’s been lifted off his shoulders. Now it's just how well…Sanemi will take it and his family. Probably not as easy.

“I thought it was a little weird you rejected that cute girl the other day.” Muichiro looks excited. “Now I've got a gay best friend!”

“What are you, twelve?” Yuichiro grumbles, but turns to Genya. “Have a good time then.”

“THIS IS UNBELIEVABLE! DON'T SHOCK US LIKE THAT, GENYA!” Zenitsu finally squawks, clutching his heart.

“Wait, what's gay?” Inosuke's lost. “Is Genma happy or something?!”

Never mind.

***

“Damn, I knew you were good at shooting, but basketball too?” You wiggle your eyebrows at him, pretending to throw an imaginary ball as Genya throws an actual one through the basket easily.

“Heh, this one's just easy since it's so near.” The machine flashes lights and beeps, displaying a new highest score. “And kinda short.”

“You are pretty tall,” you agreed, counting the leftover tokens. “Hey, we still have enough for that claw machine!”

“Seriously?”

So far the date's going pretty well. Genya hadn't made a fool of himself when you showed up dressed up in that letterman jacket and excitedly tackled him yelling about how you managed to get about an entire bag's worth of tokens. You both had spent your time mostly fooling around playing air hockey, shooting games (he had a moment of crisis before sitting next to you in the cramped space), he got forced to dance with you, you claimed he cheated at the racing, he won you a figurine as an apology for accidentally smacking your hand during Whack-A-Mole. Genya was kind of regretting that now, because you were now convinced Genya had amazing luck and could continue to win you more prizes. But as Sanemi said - a million times - those things were a scam, so Genya compromised by saying if only there was tokens leftover from the basketball game.

Alas and alack, he supposed, but you were already speeding towards the claw machine.

“Come on, come on, almost there, almost there!” Your chanting is barely heard over the obnoxious arcade music but you're practically breathing down his neck.

“Okay, okay, I got it, shut up for a sec.” Genya's grip on the controls is so tight he's actually afraid he might rip out the joystick by mistake like Sanemi last time…although Sanemi had done that on purpose during his rage quit and since had been banned from that particular arcade.

“Dear Kami-sama, please, please, please-”

“SHIT.”

“NOOO! So close!” Your head's tossed back in an exaggerated groan, flipping off the stupid claw that let go just a second too early. “I could've won that Hashira figurine!”

“I was the one playing!” Genya protested.

“I got the tokens!”

“I offered to pay you back! You said no!”

You punched his shoulder playfully. “Hey, this was supposed to be my treat. You can pay for the next date.”

“Next - next what-"

“Oh jeez, your face is so red now. Let's get some fresh air; I know a good dessert store.”

Genya's down bad alright.

***

“Where the hell have you been?”

It's already late by the time Genya lets himself into the house. His siblings should've been asleep, his mom too, so hopefully he could…uh, break the news the next day, when he's written and planned everything out, chewed off his nails and get that support you promised him earlier.

Luck had decided to abandon him since his second attempt at the claw machine however, since now he's been caught kicking off his shoes and smiling down at his phone, at the picture you've sent him of the figurine in your shelf.

>>Maybe I'll get more from you

You wi<<

He shuts off his phone quickly. Sanemi’s sitting on the sofa, arms crossed and does not look like a happy camper. Genya tries for an innocent smile. He probably looks like he has a stroke. If Sanemi were a cop, every criminal would be cracking in less than a minute under his interrogations.

“Out with a friend. Sorry I'm late, I was talking them back home.”

“Really? Saw all your friends - Tokito twins and that Kamado kid - earlier today. Try again."

“Someone else.”

“Cut to the chase, Genya, you were out on a date, weren't you?” Sanemi barks.

Genya's shoulders slump. “Yeah. Please don't be mad, I did tell Mom.”

“You should focus on studying. Your math grades are still too low.” Sanemi's expression softens, just slightly. "Who's the lucky girl?"

“Ah.”

“I swear to god, if it's that Shabana girl-”

“It's a guy.”

A very awkward beat of silence.

“WHO?!”

Genya almost expects to be attacked when he says your name. Or mauled after Sanemi demands every detail of what went down at the arcade. Maybe thrashed while finally confessing yes, he's not straight. But not stand there while Sanemi stares at him, strangely quiet.

“You two didn't do anything suspicious?”

Nope. You'd been quite understanding when he admitted he was still kind of getting used to the newness of…all this and offered to save a kiss for next time, causing him to explode into scarlet and try to poke you with his straw. “Aniki!”

“Is this a new thing or have you been…keeping this from me?” Unbelievable. His older brother almost looks hurt by that notion.

“A new thing, I swear, I wasn't planning on keeping anything from you, I was just waiting for the right time and right thing to say and I - I didn't know how you'd react.”

“Well…” Sanemi mutters something unintelligible, eyes moving away slightly.

“Um…what?”

“I SAID, AS LONG AS YOU'RE HAPPY WITH HIM, IT'S FINE BY ME! NOW GO TO SLEEP!”

Genya couldn't stop his grin. “Really? Thank - thank you, Aniki, and okay, I will.”

“And don't do anything too intimate before you're married!”

***

You spat out your straw. “He said what?”

Genya takes a long sip of his latte, slipping his hand into yours. “I didn't make that up.”

“No,” You say, shaking your head. “That sounds like Shinazugawa.”

[akirasarchives]

[ᴄ.s] | 𝗿𝗲𝗹𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻𝘀𝗵𝗶𝗽 𝗵𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗰𝗮𝗻𝗼𝗻𝘀

sᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: how you relationship formed, came to be & every-day life

￫ pre-borderlands ver | post-borderlands ver

𝗠𝗘𝗘𝗧𝗜𝗡𝗚 —

Ironically enough, you work in the hospital cafe which doctors and nurses flood to and their breaks

It’s a pretty easy job seeing as you’re mostly handing doctors their pre-orders, handling coffee and shuffling little pastries into bags

Most are generous tippers too (i.e. the very full glass jar beside the register)

So you mostly enjoy your job, especially seeing as you get to make your own food for free too and most of the hospital staff are down to have a good laugh on their lunches

But one particular doctor is pretty hard for you to read

He has shaggy, blonde hair and a set of growing eye bags beneath his dark irises

He always orders the same thing, so often times you’ll have the meal ready and all you have to do is pour him his coffee but he often goes between wanting to have a small chat and staying completely silent

“[l/n]” Chishiya hums as he walks to the polished, marble counter. His hands rest idly in the deep pockets of his white lab coat as he watches you with a soft gaze.

“Dr. Chishiya” You shoot him a smile “Sorry I’m a bit behind today” Bashfully motioning at the stacked styrofoam containers which are yet to be labelled, you anxiously watch his expression. Some doctors today were a bit grumpy when their food wasn’t ready on time and maybe you lost a couple tips but all in all you can’t really blame them.

“That’s okay” He nods “Where is Nakamoto?” He questions, referencing the other young man who you often work with. Usually, Yuta was behind the counter and slinging out orders like there was no tomorrow. His voice usually replaced the soft radio which was playing now in his absence (mostly singing any thelastrockstars or larcenciel song).

“He called in sick… I didn’t realise how much he actually helped” An airy laugh passes through your lips as you get started on Chishiya’s order. In your defence, the doctor was earlier than usual and you were busy preparing the orders for the doctors that often came before him.

“Is he a troublemaker?” He asks, watching how you precisely create a nutritious bento box for him. It’s impressive that you’re able to remember the order of over 50 staff members without breaking a sweat, though, Chishiya supposes he remembers things that are quite a bit more important than the correct lunch order.

“Oh no! Yuta is funny… He just talks a lot” You smile as you continue putting together his lunch “And he lies a lot too, but it’s funny” You bite your tongue as you foolishly repeat yourself. In all honestly, this is the longest conversation you’ve had with Chishiya outside of ‘are you busy today?’. It’s uncharted territory for yourself to blabber with the cat-like man.

“Oh, you’re on first name basis?” The questions flusters you as you scramble to close the lid of the styrofoam box. You know what he’s hinting at as other nurses and doctors have teased you about it before (mostly the older women) but being stuck behind a counter for many days of your week has caused both you and Yuta to drop the formalities.

“Um - it’s nothing like that” You slide the box across the counter and peel the sanitary gloves from your fingers “Working together so often kind of made it awkward to continue to act so formal, you know?” You laugh is jittery as you swipe a cardboard cup from the stack beside the coffee machine. You don’t bother to glance at Chishiya as you’re sure the sight would make your hands tremble.

You’re not sure why the man has such a hold over you. Maybe it’s your people-pleaser jumping out or the fact that he’s undeniably handsome and is staring a hole straight into your head as he presses on about Yuta and yourself.

A few awkward seconds pass by as you prepare the coffee. Chishiya begins rustling with his wallet as he presumably clinks a few extra coins into the filling jar as your back in turned. Funnily enough, Chishiya prefers a concerning amount of sugar in his coffee which in all honestly makes you feel a bit ill as you prepare it.

“Sorry, again, Dr. Chishiya” You repeat as you carefully slide the sleeve onto the cup so the doctor doesn’t burn his fingers while holding his drink.

“Don’t worry” He replies with a ghost of an appreciative smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

“I promise to have everything prepare tomorrow!”

He scoffs, lightheartedly, as he grasps his items “Just call me Chishiya, okay?”

That whole scenario plays in your head the next few days as he comes to collect his orders

Yuta obviously notices you’ve dropped the “Dr.” when referring to him as almost every doctor here prefers to be called Dr. [Name]

Not to mention, he gossips with the other staff so word spreads around that you and Chishiya have gotten closer

Which to yourself is just odd as enough drama happens on a daily basis in a hospital so why is you dropping his title in Chishiya’s name such big news?

Does everyone know that Chishiya is unsociable??

Not to mention that the older women have gotten 10x worse with their prodding

𝗔𝗦𝗞𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗬𝗢𝗨 𝗢𝗨𝗧 —

Chishiya decides that if he ever wants to make a move with you he’s just going to have to suck it up and do it at the cafe

For months he’s tried to catch you when you’re leaving or even hoping that you’re alone for another day - because to his luck Yuta was working alone one day and wouldn’t drop the subject

“You know, Dr. Chishiya” Yuta prods as he slides the coffee across the counter. Chishiya raises a brow as he watches the flamboyant man smile cheshire-ly.

“If you like [y/n], you better tell her soon because she’s going on a date with my friend next week” Yuta very obviously takes his time sliding Chishiya’s meal across the counter, gaging the annoyance that causes Chishiya’s eyebrow to twitch.

“Cause Niragi really, really like her!”

Yeah, Chishiya’s not surprised you have dates lined up

But the exchange was like a slap of reality hitting his face

So, the next morning you’re setting up the cafe when Chishiya comes rushing in (walking the tiniest bit faster than usual)

“You’re early!” You greet as you set aside the broom you were using to brush up the crumbs that weren’t caught yesterday. Very rarely doctors would visit the cafe in the very opening hours, more so visitors and interns doing coffee runs.

“Sorry… Is this a bad time for you?” He asks as he slows his pace. You shake your head as you grasp the broom firmly between your fingers to ease any apparent anxiousness.

“No, did you want a coffee or something? We got new pastries if you want on-“

“No” Chishiya states as he ends your small blabbering “No, I came to ask you something”

Oh. Odd. You can’t help but widen your eyes as you stare curiously at the doctor. You can’t help but notice his usually neat ponytail was sagging and strands of hair were messily framing his face. He had practically jogged (shocking, really) from his car before Yuta could disrupt your peaceful moment, so strong gusts of wind had caused his usually neat hairstyle to look unkempt.

“I’m free on Saturday, please meet me at the hospital entrance after your shift” He asks awkwardly, grasping at a piece of paper that was crumpled in his lab coat pocket. He hastily hands you the paper, very much less suave than he hoped to come across.

“Um… Okay” You we’re dying to ask if it was a date, but you couldn’t allow yourself the embarrassment.

“This is my number” He explains as you grasp the paper “I want to take you on a date”

That was pretty much it

Chishiya took his leave after , mostly to avoid any embarrassment

Saturday wasn’t for another three days and the anticipation as well as the fact that you’ll have to see him later today, the next day and the day after that caused a wire of nerves to bundles in your stomach

Never mind the fact that all you wanted to do was to text your friend Kuina but knowing her she’d blab about it and Yuta was definitely out the question

So you bite your tongue for the next few days until Saturday

The day is nerve wrecking when it comes

You’re dressed a bit nicer, wearing a nice pair of shoes that you hope doesn’t get drenched in coffee and an extra shirt stuffed in your bag to change into before leaving

Thankfully, Yuta served Chishiya so you didn’t have to look at him until now

Through the massive glass wall encasing the cafe, you can see Chishiya standing outside the cafe doors in his normal clothes. He’s wearing a pair of baggy cargos and has a black jacket shrugged on - presumably a black top too

Yuta allows you to get away a bit quicker, probably because he can see the way you’re staring straight at Chishiya through the glass windows. For once you’re happy he keeps his mouth shut as you’re able to swiftly change shirts and walk out without him saying something

“Sorry you had to wait on me” It’s a bit awkward as you slowly close the door behind you, attempting to diffuse any awkwardness by lingering around the closing door. Chishiya takes note of your nerves as he slides his phone into his back pocket.

“it’s okay, you’re actually a little bit early” He nods as he begins to walk away. You quickly fall in pace, watching his face as he continues to speak.

“I hope you don’t mind riding in my car” He motions to the keys he had fished from one of the many deep pockets of his trousers. You dismiss his worry with a shake of your head, watching as a particularly nice car flashes as he clicks his keys.

You knew Chishiya had some money, especially because his mother and father were very high-ranking individuals but it never really visualised until the silver, clean and very expensive car came into view.

DATE —

Maybe Chishiya’s game is a bit rusty

as he second guesses himself the minute he pulls up to the local museum

his friend Kuina told him that the new botanic section was a TOTAL game changer because when she took Ann, they both thought it was so romantic

“I hope you liked museums… We can go somewhere else if you want?” Chishiya’s fingers drum against the steering wheel nervously. However, a wave of relief washes over him as you smile.

“I love the museum!” You reassure him with a cheesy smile. Chishiya’s nods, unbuckling his seatbelt as he practically races out of the car.

the date goes by smoothly

and lucky for Chishiya the new addition was a total surprise for you

“Let’s go to the botanic room” Chishiya announces as he walks away from a particularly detailed painting. You can’t help but gasp, raising your brows as you stare at Chishiya dumbfounded.

“There’s a botanic room?” You ask, surprised that you had no clue of the new addition. The museum was your go-to for a destresser and the thought of walking through a room of beautiful, delicate flowers after a particularly stressful day excited you to no end (life of an adult).

“Yeah, you didn’t know?” Chishiya asks with a slight laugh. You nod as you quickly follow behind him, ignoring how your arm grazes against his. He walks leisurely beside you with his hands stuffed deep into his pockets.

“I thought you loved the museum though?” He teases, leading you towards a glass door. A long corridor follows as it leads to the specialised building. The sound of running water, chirps of artificial wildlife and a growing humidity spikes your excitement.

Pure astonishment flushes over your features as the doors swing open. Beautiful, vibrant flowers and long branches decorated with the most beautiful shade of green greets you as you walk in. It’s almost as if an amazing tropical holiday was condensed into one room.

“Oh my God..” You speak to yourself, arms grasping out to grab Chishiya’s. He hums, ignoring how he almost trips over himself as you point at an extravagant plant. He watches how your face contorts as you take in the scenery.

Maybe Kuina was right.

𝗥𝗘𝗟𝗔𝗧𝗜𝗢𝗡𝗦𝗛𝗜𝗣 —

Speaking of, how you and Chishiya didn’t realise you both had a mutual friend

and it being Kuina no less!!!???

She finds it hilarious

anyway!!

chishiya… surprisingly romantic

flowers, gifts, holidays, dates

you name it, he’s done it

maybe it’s his romance books (which he will NEVER admit to reading) rubbing off on him… but he’s a darn good boyfriend

despite working long shifts he ALWAYS makes time for you

whether it be dropping by on his breaks, ordering delivery for you when he can’t be home for dinner, taking holiday hours just to spend a few days with you

he’ll do it

his field of work is pretty emotional and at times he struggles to flicker between switching off his emotions and turning them back on

and on days like that where he feels pretty robotic, coming home to you and having a cuddle eases his mind just a little

sometimes he feels that he’s not expressive enough for you and sue to that he can either come a bit too closed off or weirdly clingy

like a cat that wants you to pet them but also runs away when you actually try to

he tries to work on it though

lavish gifts and holidays can only do so much, you know?

speaking of gifts

his love language is defo gift giving

he struggles with words and displays of affection at times (mostly due to his parents) and he finds it easier to materially show his love to you

the tiffany bracelet you looked at once? done. A perfume that you tried and said it smelt nice? 100ml and no size smaller. Fancy a specific dish? Table booked at the nearest specialised restaurant.

it can be a little exhausting trying to match his gift giving (pay-grade difference is astonishing)

all he wants in return is a kiss or hug 😭 please give him something

he adores silent reading

just chilling on a sofa with a nice cup of tea, cuddled up with a blanket thrown over his lap and complete silence as you both read (i.e. he reads and you sleep)

favourite dates: cafe, museum, picnic, movie nights

when you go out you’re practically dripping in designer labels

and that cheap car you had? your next birthday it was gone

yuta almost had a heart attack when he saw you coming into work with a dior sweatshirt on

“It’s gonna get stained! Are you actually insane?” He cries as he grips at the baggy material. The soft cream colour complimented your skin so beautifully, you couldn’t bare the thought of not wearing it.

“I don’t know why you even work here anymore, can’t Chishiya just buy you whatever you want?”

your friends are so jealous but so happy for you

esp when they find out that after you last fight with chishiya you came home to a gift card, cartier ring, bouquet of flowers and a particularly expensive bag on the bed

with a sorry note lol

you also discovered how chishiya secretly lives for reality tv

every time you watch something he groans and complains that you’re watching trashy tv again

but trust that he will be keeping notes on who everyone is

he’s so sneaky about wanting to watch it too!

“[y/n], that show you like is coming on” He points towards the tv with the remote, shrugging ever so casually at the tv menu.

yeah, as if he purposely didn’t check the time and saw it was coming on in 5 mins

anyways chishiya is a dork and needs help expressing himself

[cha-melodius]

Fic Fest!!

You know it’s gonna be FirstPrince … and I need that Kennedy Garden AU!

Congrats on your 100th work!! You’re an incredible writer and person and I feel quite fortunate to know you.

(Thank you for this lovely prompt Sam!! I'm sorry this took forever, but I hope you enjoy this AU!)

Flowers Only Grow Where There Are Seeds

(T, 4k, read it below or on AO3)

“Are you watching that guy like a weirdo creep again?” June asks, too close to his ear, and Alex jumps a fucking mile.

“I’m not being a weirdo creep,” he huffs, folding his arms over his chest as he steps away from the window overlooking the Kennedy Gardens.

June gives him a look. “But you are watching him.”

“I was just— I was walking by and I happened to notice him, and—”

“You should go talk to him,” June interrupts blithely, already sauntering away.

“What? No,” Alex scoffs.

“Why not? He’d probably be flattered he caught the attention of the First Son.”

“He’s working, June,” Alex says. “He doesn’t want to be bothered.”

June shrugs. “Suit yourself.”

~~~~~

Alex doesn’t know exactly what about the gardener first caught his attention. Maybe it was the fact that he was younger than a lot of the other people who were employed to work on the landscaping at the White House—Alex’s age, or thereabouts. Maybe it was the way he was always still somehow so pale after working in the sun all day. Maybe it was the fact that he could have been a model, with his long legs and swooping cheekbones and full lips, and yet he was spending his days clipping bushes and digging up bulbs.

Actually, all of that’s a lie: Alex knows exactly when the gardener caught his attention.

It had been an abnormally warm early spring day, and he’d been pacing in front of a bank of windows as he tried to wrestle his ideas into something that might resemble a coherent essay for one of his classes. He wasn’t even looking out at the gardens, not really, but a flash of movement caught his eye and drew him over to the glass. A hose had failed somehow, leaving the man who’d been working with it looking like he was re-enacting Mr. Darcy emerging from the lake (what? June has those movies on all the time, it’s not like it’s his fault if he gets caught up in them sometimes). The gardener had plucked at his thin white shirt as it clung to his torso, revealing a truly breathtaking collection of muscles sculpted by regular manual labor, before he’d finally peeled the whole thing off, taking his dingy ball cap with it.

That was when Alex discovered that they were currently employing what might very well be the most gorgeous man on the planet.

That was also when Alex realized he might be something less than 100% straight. Ok, it had taken some more time after that, and more than a few instances of catching sight of the beautiful gardener again, before he started to understand what he was feeling. He still isn’t really sure if he’s actually bi or just lonely and horny, but that was definitely the start.

He’s well aware of how weird it would be to go hit on the man, for many, many reasons, so he just… appreciates from a distance. It’s fine. In a few months it will be winter again, and Alex probably won’t see him around anymore. He’ll get over his stupid little infatuation on someone he’s never even spoken to, and that will be that.

~~~~~

It’s one of those days, when there’s too much going on and he can’t get Cash to go with him on a run outside of the White House grounds, so Alex just ends up looping endlessly around in little circles on the path around the South Lawn, trying to get out some of the excess energy that’s thrumming in his veins. Eventually, he manages to tire himself out enough and ends up sprawled out on his back behind some bushes in the Children’s Garden, staring up as the clouds drift past. He doesn’t know how long he lies there, only that he still hasn’t quite come back to earth when he hears the sound of footsteps on the nearby path. Probably he should get up, but he can’t really bring himself to care who sees him like this.

That’s before the hot gardener comes around the corner. His light blue button-down shirt is hanging open, thrown loosely over a white tank top that’s smudged with dirt and sweat-darkened at the neckline, and Alex might have fallen over if he wasn’t already on the ground.

“Sorry, I didn’t know anyone was out here,” the gardener says. The accent is a surprise. An extremely sexy surprise. Fuck. “Do you need a hand?”

Alex could use a hand with something, all right. In his own tank top and the running shorts that June says are an inch away from a misdemeanor, he’s really not wearing enough clothing for this. Or maybe he’s wearing too much. Closing his eyes, he forces himself to get a fucking grip before he starts to push up off the ground. The gardener’s proffered hand appears in his line of vision, so he takes it because it would be more awkward not to. It’s warm and dry and rough with callouses that Alex feels no particular way about, and he lets the gardener’s strong grip tug him upward, until he gets his feet under him again.

It’s only then that the gardener seems to clock him. His eyes go wide as they track over Alex’s body and linger on his face. “Oh. You’re…”

Their hands are still clasped together, and Alex tightens his hold around Henry’s. “Alex.”

“Henry,” the gardener says in return as his lips part in a smile, which is devastating, actually.

“Nice to meet you, Henry,” Alex says. He might let a little of the southern drawl slip out, honey smooth. Sue him.

“The pleasure’s all mine,” Henry replies, his rounded vowels dipping low, and ok, he’s a smooth motherfucker too. Alex is officially fucked.

“You’re British.”

Henry laughs, cocking an eyebrow at him. “An astute observation.”

“No I just mean—” Alex cuts himself off and shakes his head. “I didn’t expect it, but I guess it fits.”

“Why?” Henry asks, tipping his head as a little furrow appears between his brows.

Alex bites his lip. “Because everything about you is unexpected, Henry.”

~~~~~

Alex should leave him alone. He should listen to what he told June and not bother a White House employee when he’s working.

The thing about Henry, though, is that he’s ridiculously easy to talk to, and he always seems so pleased to see Alex. It’s impossible to stay away whenever Alex spots him working in the gardens, which is frequently these days. It’s the middle of summer, which means Henry is mostly working in the mornings and evenings when the heat isn’t quite so bad, but occasionally Alex finds him doing something ridiculous like digging a hole to plant a bush in the middle of the day.

As he’s now wont to do, Alex makes his way out to the gardens with a large glass of lemonade. Henry’s entire face lights up when he sees Alex coming, which Alex is sure is less because of him and more the promise of ice cold refreshment. The poor guy is absolutely drenched in sweat, which Alex absolutely is not thinking about licking off his collarbones. As Alex walks up to him, Henry sinks the shovel into the loose dirt and pulls his ball cap off, the muscles of his arms rippling when he pushes a hand through blond hair darkened with sweat. Alex narrowly avoids swallowing his tongue as he hands the glass off, and when their fingers brush, Alex feels the contact tingling in his fingertips long after Henry’s pulled away.

And that’s before Henry tips his head back and takes a long drink of the lemonade, the muscles of his throat working as he swallows. Thank fuck it’s hot outside, because Alex is sweating like he’s the one who’s been working in the sun for hours.

Somehow, he manages to regain his faculties for conversation by the time Henry’s finished the lemonade, and they fall into their usual easy banter as Henry works. (Alex once offered to help out, feeling bad for standing around while Henry was sweating his ass off, and Henry had laughed and laughed and told him that he’d be fired if he let the First Son do his job for him.) They talk about everything and nothing—about movies and music, about the best food trucks that frequent the area around the mall, about what Alex has been up to during the summer, about the many projects always going on in the gardens.

“How’d you end up working here, anyway?” Alex asks from where he’s reclining in the shade, plucking bits of grass out of the lawn and tearing them apart.

“It’s a long story,” Henry grunts as he shovels. “I moved to the US for a fresh start. The gardening, I sort of fell into. I needed a job, and I always liked working with my hands. I’m certain that my friend sent me this listing as a joke because I—” His voice fails as his eyes cut over to Alex, then drop quickly to the ground again. He clears his throat. “Well. It’s not important. But I decided to apply anyway. I think Rodolfo thought I was having him on when I showed up at the interview, but he must have seen something in me.” Henry huffs a laugh. “Or maybe I was the only one who passed all the frankly mental background checks that were required to work at the White House. And now, here I am.”

“You’re my age,” Alex says, squinting at him. “You didn’t go to college?”

“I dropped out of Oxford,” Henry replies simply.

Alex can’t help it; his jaw drops open. “You dropped out of Oxford? What happened? Did you not like it?”

He knows he shouldn’t pry, but he can’t help it. He wants to know everything about Henry.

“I loved it,” Henry says, and there’s a smile on his face but an unmistakably melancholic note in his voice. “I wanted to be a writer. But I couldn’t stay. Not with the pressure from my grandmother and the way she was insistent on ruling my life.” He stops speaking for a long moment, but never pauses in his digging. “Sometimes I think about going back to school eventually. For now, I’m happy with this. I like it. There’s a beautiful simplicity to my life.”

“Wow,” Alex breathes. For once, he doesn’t really know what to say. “I’m sorry that happened to you, Henry. But for what it’s worth… I’m glad you ended up here.”

Henry leans on the shovel, smiling at him. “Me, too.”

~~~~~

Alex is trying to make any kind of sense of a bill that the Republicans are going to try to push through the Senate—don’t ask how he got the draft—when Nora lets herself into his room without so much as a knock.

“Wow, entitled much,” Alex huffs, barely glancing up from his work. At least she brought burritos.

“You invited me here, dumbass,” Nora retorts as she flings herself onto his couch. “Remember? Bisexual awakening movie night? Don’t tell me you forgot about Rick and Evie.”

Alex groans, wiping a hand over his face. “No way it’s fucking Sunday.”

“You’re not serious.”

“I might be.”

“All the more reason you need a break,” Nora tells him firmly. “Your classes don’t start for another week. Why are you working?”

“Because I’m gonna be a senior next year and I have to have something lined up for afterward,” he grumbles.

“I’m sure your mom will give you a job on the campaign,” she says as she finds the remote to his TV and starts navigating through streaming services.

“Maybe I want options. Don’t want everyone to think I’m just a useless nepo baby.”

Nora snorts. “Because I’m sure no one will think your connections got you a job in Rafael Luna’s office.”

“Fuck off,” he groans, turning away from her again. “We’re not talking about this.”

“Ok,” she agrees, too easily. “You got a secret admirer or something? Who sent you those?”

“What?”

“Those,” Nora repeats, gesturing to the small vase full of multicolored roses that’s sitting in front of her on his coffee table. Red, lavender, orange, blue, and even these neat yellow ones tipped with red around the edge of the petals.

“Oh,” Alex says dismissively. “No one sent them. Henry brought them by.”

“Who the fuck is Henry?”

“He’s a gardener who works here.”

“Hold on, the gardener? Your gardener?” she says, sounding too delighted by half. Alex may have talked about him before, once or twice.

Alex huffs and sets his pencil down, turning back to glare at her. “He’s not my gardener. He’s an employee of the White House.”

Nora grins smugly. “He’s the one you’ve got a crush on, though.”

“I don’t—” He breaks off with a frustrated grunt. “We’re not having this conversation, either.”

“And he brought you flowers,” she continues, ignoring him.

“It doesn’t mean anything. He has to prune the roses so that they keep producing more blooms, and he brought me some extras because I said I liked them one day while I was out in the garden. That’s all.”

That’s what Henry told him when he showed up with the first ones, his face flushed red from being out in the sun. Alex’s heart had done something very fucking complicated in his chest, but he’d accepted them in the spirit with which they were given: as a friendly gesture, and nothing more. The haphazard arrangement is all Alex—Henry brings by a different color almost every day, and Alex adds them in the vase, which is getting rather full.

“That’s all,” Nora scoffs with obvious deep skepticism.

“What?”

“Alex, when a boy gives you roses, it always means something,” she says solemnly. “Did you look up the colors?”

“Huh?” he replies, becoming increasingly lost.

Nora shakes her head at him, like he’s the crazy one. “Different colored roses mean different things. Maybe he’s sending you secret messages.”

Alex snorts dismissively. “Pretty sure they’re just whatever’s blooming in the garden.”

“If you say so,” she says, sounding extremely unconvinced. “Can we watch the movie now?”

“Please.”

~~~~~

By the time November rolls around, the gardens are looking pretty dire. Alex never really took notice of what was going on before this year—the plants were just there, in the background, and sometimes it was more colorful than others. Now, though, he notices. Notices the autumn flowers as they come into bloom and die back, notices the trees dropping their leaves, notices the bushes getting thin and scraggly. Henry’s still been around, working in jackets and hoodies as the temperature dips, but between the lessened need for garden care and Alex’s punishing course load, they haven’t seen each other as much. Alex pretends like he doesn’t know that’s why he gets unaccountably grumpy sometimes.

Today he’s on a mission, though, and after confirming that Henry was on the work schedule, Alex scours the grounds until he finds Henry by the tennis court, trimming some bushes. There’s a biting chill in the air, and Henry is bundled up, his nose and cheeks red from the cold. He seems surprised but pleased to see Alex, and Alex bites down on a too-large grin as he holds out the envelope he’d brought with him.

“What’s this?” Henry asks, pulling off his work gloves before he takes it and carefully breaks the seal.

Alex shifts nervously and jams his hands in his pants pockets so he doesn’t fidget. “It’s an invitation. To our big New Year’s party? You’ve probably heard about it.”

“I’m familiar, yes,” Henry says dryly, smirking a little as he glances up from the embossed paper. “But I was under the impression seats were thousands of dollars and reserved for the who’s who of America’s hot young glitterati.”

“First off, you’re young and hot, and it doesn’t matter if you’re not rich,” Alex says, pretending that he didn’t just call Henry hot to his face. Whatever. It’s an objective truth. “We waive the seat cost when there’s someone we really want to come that can't afford it.”

“And you really want me to come,” Henry surmises, still looking vaguely amused by the situation.

Fuck it. “Yes,” Alex answers firmly.

Henry looks back down at the invitation, trailing a finger over the engraving. “I can afford it,” he mutters.

“What?”

“I said, I can afford it,” Henry repeats as he meets Alex’s eyes again. “I know I don’t look it most days, but I have a rather large inheritance that I’m delighted to spend on good causes.”

Alex blinks. He knew Henry’s family back in England was wealthy, but he kind of assumed that after Henry dropped out and moved across an ocean to work as a gardener, he wasn’t in the same boat. “Oh,” he breathes. “Well, you can certainly donate if you want.”

“I do,” Henry confirms. He taps on the invitation with a finger. “It says here I get a plus one.”

Alex’s heart plummets to somewhere near the Earth’s core. Of course Henry has someone. He’s young and hot and amazing, and it’s frankly ridiculous to think he wouldn’t already have a significant other. Or maybe there’s someone he wants to impress—an invite to the year’s biggest party would do wonders. Alex is just the guy that pesters him while he’s working. He never had a shot.

“Yeah,” he manages, cursing the way the word croaks out of his throat. “Of course. It’s, ah, standard, I guess, so if you want to bring someone…”

Henry just smiles at him. “Wonderful.”

~~~~~

Alex stares up at the stars, watching as the cloud of his breath briefly obscures them, making them twinkle before it dissipates. It’s freezing out here, especially after being in the heat generated by the crush of bodies at the party, but for once, Alex appreciates that. He takes another breath, letting the cold air flowing into his lungs numb the ache in his chest.

The crunch of footsteps on the frosted lawn draws his attention, and he looks over to see Henry hovering nearby, still nothing short of stunning in his clean black tux.

He’d arrived with an ostentatiously dressed man he introduced as his best mate Pez, which was a fucking trip because of course Alex had heard of Percy Okonjo. Pez was charming and handsome and immediately the life of the party, but Alex couldn’t tear his eyes away from Henry. Saying he cleaned up well would be a trite cliche, but fuck if it wasn’t true; he looked more like a prince or a movie star than the boy with dirt ground into the creases of his hands that Alex knows. Alex had been buoyed for a while by the fact that Henry had not brought a date with him, but as midnight crept closer, his spirits had started sinking again.

The Kennedy Gardens had seemed like a safe place to retreat. He should have known better. 

“I’m fairly certain the host isn’t supposed to hide from the party,” Henry teases gently, a tentative smile playing on his lips.

“I’m only one of three. June and Nora have it on lock,” Alex replies with a sigh. “Sorry for leaving you to the wolves though.”

“It’s fine,” Henry says, shaking his head as he walks a little closer. “Believe it or not, this isn’t my first time at this kind of soirée.”

Alex snorts at that. “Oh, a soirée. Aren’t you fancy?”

“Says the man in a velvet tuxedo.”

“Touché,” Alex returns. His smile falters a little as he stares back up at the stars. “I needed a break. Don’t get me wrong, I usually fucking thrive at these things, but sometimes being ‘on’ all the time starts to wear on you, you know?”

“Why do you think I’m a gardener?” Henry says wryly.

“Fair enough,” Alex says with a puff of laughter. “I just… needed a moment to myself, I guess.”

“I shouldn’t intrude, then,” Henry replies softly, already stepping backwards.

“No,” Alex blurts, probably too desperately, but he couldn’t care less about that if it means Henry won’t leave. “I mean, you don’t have to go. I don’t mind the company. When it’s you.”

Henry halts in his tracks, his eyes going wide. “Oh.”

Thankfully, he stops trying to leave and instead comes closer, until he’s right next to Alex, a few bare, aching inches separating their shoulders. For a moment they both just stand there staring up at the sky, until the champagne soaking Alex’s brain gets the better of him.

“If I’m being honest, I wasn’t so excited to count down to the New Year.”

Henry shifts a little to face him more directly. “No?”

Alex shrugs. “The winter’s one thing when you’ve got the holidays to look forward to, but after tonight, it’s nothing but cold and gray. Everything’s dead and brown, and it’ll be months until things are growing again, and you won’t be around…”

He trails off slightly too late to save himself. Whatever. He’s allowed to say he’s going to miss seeing a friend. He stares fixedly up at the sky, resolutely refusing to look at whatever Henry’s face is doing, but then Henry moves to stand in front of him, and he has little choice but to meet those gorgeous blue eyes. They’re crinkled slightly in amusement, but not unkindly.

Fond, he thinks distantly. Henry looks fond.

“Let me make sure I have this right,” Henry says carefully. “You’re out here pouting tonight because you think this is the last time you’re going to see me until spring?”

Alex huffs out a laugh and looks down, feeling his face heat. “I mean, I don’t know if I’d put it that way.”

“You’re wrong about some things, love,” Henry replies, inching closer. Moving slowly, he reaches out to slide a hand onto Alex’s waist, the mere pressure of it lighting a fire under Alex’s skin even as Alex trembles involuntarily under his touch. Then he looks out at the gardens. “They’re not dead. A bit dormant, perhaps, but still in need of care. And I’m not going anywhere.”

“You’re not?” Alex asks breathlessly.

Henry shakes his head. “There’s plenty to do over the winter. Planning, cleaning, prepping the beds… Rodolfo has plenty to keep us busy. I’ll admit, I was intending on taking some time off, but you certainly won’t get rid of me that easily.”

Alex feels like he’s fucking flying, or would be if Henry’s steady presence wasn’t tethering him to the ground. He’s shifted even closer now, nearly pressing Alex back against the tree, and Alex lifts his arms to loop loosely over Henry’s shoulders as he lets a pleased grin curl onto his lips. “There aren’t any roses, though.”

“I’ll buy you roses, you absolute menace,” Henry huffs, but he’s smiling too broadly to sell being put out about it.

“I have another confession,” Alex breathes into the rapidly vanishing space between their lips. “I also ran away because I wanted to kiss you at midnight, but I couldn’t.”

Henry pauses, pulling back a little, though he thankfully doesn’t let go. “Ah. I understand if you can’t afford the questions—”

“No, that’s not it. I don’t care who knows. I mean, I should probably make a plan for officially coming out, but that’s not why,” Alex jumps in before he can get anything else out, because it’s important that Henry knows.

Alex isn’t ashamed and he doesn’t want to hide but, like so many things in his life, it’s not that simple. He takes a deep breath, forcing his jumbled thoughts into something that makes sense, which is no mean feat when he’s tipsy and his arms are full of a very handsome gardener who he’d much rather be kissing.

“It’s a lot, being in the public eye the way I am, and I couldn’t ask that of you,” Alex says as he stares fixedly at Henry’s tie. It’s got little yellow roses on it, and he can’t resist dropping a hand down to run a finger down the silk. “You like your quiet life.”

“I like it,” Henry murmurs. He lifts a hand to Alex’s chin, his fingers icy cold on Alex’s overheated skin, and nudges Alex’s face up so that their eyes meet. “I like you more.”

“Oh,” Alex breathes.

“Now, about that New Year’s kiss…”

Henry is biting his lip, looking hopeful and coy all at once as he stares down at Alex through pale lashes, and Alex… can’t believe this is his life, actually. He’s going to enjoy it while it lasts, though—just them, in the garden that brought them together, and a kiss that holds as much endless potential as the plants around them. Not fragile but resilient, perennial, ready to grow and bloom into something truly incredible.

[daisynik7]

Give You Blue

Chapter 4: Alone Together

Pairing: Eren x f!reader, Reiner x f!reader (past relationship)

Rating: Explicit (for mature content)

cw: switching POVs (reader is in 2nd person, Eren is in 3rd), angst, language, a bit of fluff

Word Count: ~5.7k

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Give You Blue Masterlist | ao3 | Give You Blue Taglist

Summary: You and Annie attend a dinner at the Mu Phi sorority house on campus. Reiner, on his way out of Delta Delta, ambushes you on the walk back to your dorm for a less than pleasant conversation. Later that week, RA Eren hosts a game-night for his fellow residents. But, with it being on a Friday right after midterms, he's disappointed when it flops. Fortunately, someone comes to his rescue. Author’s Notes: Hope you enjoy this one! Likes, comments, and/or reblogs are ALWAYS appreciated. Please let me know what you think, I thrive off of reading your comments! If you want to be tagged in any future chapters, please let me know! Divider created by @/mikeykuns.

“Eren, are you paying attention?” 

Armin waves his hands in front of his friend’s face, snapping Eren out of whatever reverie he’s stuck in. He shakes his head slightly, grinning. “Sorry, Armin. Sort of zoned out for a minute there.” They sit next to each other on Eren’s bed, watching a movie on his laptop. It’s Saturday night, and Eren actually agreed to be social today. 

Armin taps on the space bar, pausing the film. “You’ve been doing that a lot lately. Are you sure you’re getting enough sleep?”

The real answer is no, but with Armin, he’ll only worry if he knows the truth. “Plenty. All eight hours,” Eren lies. In reality, he’s getting four hours tops. He stays up late studying, then spends the rest of the night tossing and turning in bed, anxious about the future. 

Oblivious, Armin responds happily. “Good! Living by yourself is already paying off. Sometimes I wish I could have my own space. The frat house can get pretty noisy, especially with Connie as a roommate.” He chuckles, reaching towards the bag of chips between them.

“Connie’s a blast to be around, though. I’m sure you’re having fun.”

“Yeah, I am. You should really come by the house.”

“Maybe. When I have time.” In all honestly, he has no intention of stepping foot in that frat house. Not because he has a disdain for Greek life; but because it’ll only show him what he’s missing out on. He already feels that way whenever he catches up with Mikasa and Armin, both thoroughly enjoying their college experience still. 

Mikasa returns from the bathroom, hopping on the bed to squeeze next to Eren. “What did I miss?”

“We ended up pausing the movie anyways, so not much.” Armin passes the snacks to Mikasa, who throws a handful into her mouth. 

They continue the movie, Eren’s mind drifting into space again. He’s already thinking about the upcoming chemistry midterm next week, how he hasn’t fully memorized the amino acids and their structures yet. And how he has to schedule a date to meet with Hange Zoë, a senior doing research in the lab, to see if he can shadow her for a month. On top of that, he’s planning on hosting a small event at the dorms, something to help his residents let off some steam after exams. It’s all too much. He wants to sleep and pretend that none of these obligations exist. 

The credits roll on his computer screen. He blinks, fully unaware of what transpired during the movie. His friends hang around for a few more minutes before leaving to head to a party somewhere else on campus. Once again, he’s alone. 

He is not motivated to study tonight, already burnt out from the last couple of days. Instead, he practices his electric guitar, working on a particular riff of this song he likes, replaying it over and over through his headphones. He loses himself in the music for a while, the closest thing to an escape that he can reproduce inside his own bedroom. Fingers sore from picking and strumming, he decides to call it a night. Face washed and teeth brushed, he snuggles under the covers, glancing at his phone. 11:00 PM. Wild night, he thinks to himself, laughing. 

Suddenly, his brother’s name flashes across the screen. “Zeke?”

“Eren, hey. You’re not sleeping already, are you?”

“Nah. But I’m in bed.”

“On a Saturday night?”

“Yep.”

Zeke chuckles heartily. “Oh boy. I can already hear it in your voice. Welcome to the club, little brother. Your descent into med school hell is starting.”

“Yay, can’t wait,” Eren responds sarcastically. “Anyways, what’s up?”

“I wanted to check in and see how you’re doing. Clearly not well.”

“I’ve been better.” He keeps his answer vague on purpose. With Zeke, he doesn’t go into too much detail with the emotions he’s experiencing. As much as he respects his older brother, the two of them don’t always see eye-to-eye. While Eren usually acts out of emotion, sometimes to a fault, Zeke is detached, unable to empathize with what his younger brother is struggling with.  

“Is dad still giving you a hard time? I heard he wasn’t happy with your last quiz grade.” 

Eren ignores the urge to ask how he knows about that, already aware that they talk about him behind his back. “I told him it was weighted, so technically I passed.” 

“Well, you know how the old man is. Technicalities don’t really matter to him.”

He rolls his eyes, staring up at the ceiling of his bedroom, almost regretting picking up this call. “What are you trying to say?”

“I’m saying you should study harder.”

He’s fighting to keep his cool, his body tense with anger. Before he loses it, he mutters through gritted teeth, “Okay, thanks. I actually gotta go now, bye.”

“Eren, I’m just trying to help – ”

He doesn’t wait for Zeke to finish his sentence, already tapping on the red button to end the call. Now, with his mood ruined, he’s not sure if he can fall asleep. He wishes it was still daylight, specifically the golden hour when the sun sets. It would be the perfect time to head to his favorite spot: the beach that overlooks the shimmering expanse of blue ocean water separating Paradis and Marley. He discovered this area recently, on one of his drives that he takes to temporarily escape. It brings him peace, even if the moment is fleeting. 

Instead, he scrolls through his contacts, tapping on his mom’s name, holding the phone back up to his ear. When her familiar voice greets him on the other line, the tears start flowing and he spends the next half hour confiding in her. 

~~~

You and Reiner cuddle in bed, his nose nuzzled to the back of your neck, spooning you. Bertolt is home for the weekend, leaving the room to yourselves. 

“Coco, are you still awake?”

You hum, snuggling closer to him, on the verge of sleep. He swallows hard behind you, as if he’s nervous. “I think I want to live in the fraternity house next semester.”

This gets your attention. Surprised, you turn around to face him. “What?”

“It’ll help me bond with my brothers better.”

“But we were supposed to live together.” The two of your agreed quite early in the semester that you would live together in one of the on-campus apartments. This news comes to you as a shock, since he’s never mentioned wanting to live on Greek Row, until now. 

“I just want to try it out for a year, baby. When we’re juniors, we can find our own place off campus, so we can do whatever we want.” He pulls you closer, kissing your forehead. “Everything is going to work out, okay? You can wait a year, right?”

Of course you can wait; that’s what he asks you of, so you’ll do it. But you don’t want to. You had all these exciting ideas laid out in your head: cooking meals together, relaxing on the couch in each other’s arms, being alone without worrying about parents or roommates barging in on the two of you. Being together all the time. 

“Coco, say something.”

It’s easy to get upset. Make a fuss and yell at him for being selfish. Simultaneously, you feel guilty for thinking this way, like you’re the bad girlfriend for disagreeing with it. For wanting him all to yourself.

“Okay,” you finally respond. “I’ll ask Annie if she wants to live together again, I guess.” It’s a compromise for the sake of making him happy. Because more than anything, you want him to be happy. 

He smiles, kissing you on the lips. “You’re the best, you know that? I don’t know what I would do without you.”

You wake up, back in your own bed, Annie’s soft snores filling the quiet of the room. A quick glance at your phone shows you it’s only 4 AM in the morning. It’s been a few days since you dreamt about Reiner, a new record since the break-up. Still, whenever you do, it hurts as much as it did the first night. 

He never warned you about wanting to move into the fraternity house. It came out of nowhere, a total and complete blindside, much like when he broke up with you. He’s been this way for a while, making rash decisions and springing it on you without a mention of it beforehand. You always end up going along with it, forcing yourself to accept it without disagreement. You never could stand up for yourself, thinking it was less hassle to bend for him than to argue about it. When you’re with someone for so long, the easy road seems the obvious choice, compared to one that has bumps and cracks along the way. But just because it’s easy, doesn’t mean it’s better; it doesn’t always lead you to the right destination. And maybe that’s why you are where you are now: lost. 

It’s been almost two weeks since you saw him on that rainy day. Two weeks since he sent you that text message, which remains unanswered. There’s been moments where you stared at the screen, fingers ghosting the keyboard, wanting to send him a reply. Somehow, you’ve resisted those temptations. In the end, it’ll only lead to more heartache. The memories haven’t kept you up at night as much as it did before. Thankfully, your sleep schedule is back to normal, except for nights like this. You’re doing better each day. Annie’s two words to you are on constant loop in your head: Baby steps. Any progress, no matter how little or big, is still progress. As long as you don’t go backwards into a downward spiral.

Later in the week, Annie extends an invitation to eat dinner at one of the sorority houses on campus, Mu Phi. Hitch, a close friend, is a sister who currently lives there. As you approach Greek Row with your roommate, you look at the Delta Delta house right next door, wondering if Reiner is there, working as their hasher tonight. Possibly flirting with Christa or other sisters that surely find him attractive. You let the insecurities fade as soon as you knock on the door to Mu Phi, soon greeted by Hitch and two other friendly sisters. They lead you into the dining room, chatting about various topics, subtlety sneaking in how great sorority life is, asking if you’ve ever been interested. After all, they are constantly in recruitment mode, which doesn’t bother you. It feels nice to be desired. 

During the meal, the conversations continue. Annie, being the secret gossip she is, mentions the neighbors. You briefly described to her your run-in with Reiner and Christa, so naturally, she’s been curious since. “What’s it like living next to them?”

Hitch replies, “It’s fine. Did you know that Mikasa’s a Delta Delta?”

“Really? She rushed? I guess they can’t be all bad,” Annie muses.

Hitch eyes her with an amused smirk on her face. “Why would you say that? Who’s in there that you don’t like?”

Before Annie can respond, you interrupt, not wanting to spread any unwarranted gossip. “She’s joking. By the way, who’s Mikasa?”

“She’s this girl that attends Annie’s kickboxing class.”

Annie adds, “She’s also our RA’s sister.”

“Eren?”

She nods, confirming. His appearance around the dorms has lessened, possibly because of the upcoming midterms. He is a pre-med major after all, so you’re certain he’s too busy studying to be out and about. You wished you could have seen his face when he received the bag full of Pocky you bought for him, as thanks for sharing his umbrella on that rainy day. “I didn’t know he has a sister.”

“She’s adopted, from what I heard,” Hitch comments. “But they’re super close. Her, Eren, and Armin.”

At that third name, you glance at Annie, a slight blush creeping on her cheeks. She had a class with Armin last semester, and they were paired up for a big project. From then on, your roommate has been smitten with him, but she’ll never admit it out loud. You also recognize the name as one of Reiner’s pledge brothers from the same fraternity, though you’ve never met him personally. Knowing he’s close to Eren already gives you the impression that he’s a nice guy. 

The dinner ends with a tour of the house, not including the exclusive sleeping porch on the top floor, where all the sisters are forced to slumber beside each other. Right outside the entrance, you, Hitch, and Annie talk for a little while longer until your roommate announces, “My shift at the library is starting, so I have to leave now. Thanks for dinner Hitch!”

The three of you say your goodbyes, Hitch waving farewell from the door, you and Annie parting ways in opposite directions. It’s a clear sky tonight, the moon glowing brightly in the vast darkness, littered with barely visible stars. You take your time walking, enjoying the pleasantly cool air, admiring the other houses along Greek Row. From behind, a familiar voice calls out to you. “Coco.”

Before you face him, you curse under your breath, aware of exactly who it is. You find Reiner several feet away from you, presumably from the Delta Delta house. His fraternity is in the opposite direction, so he must have spotted you from afar, maybe heard you talking outside. You stand in place, waiting for him to catch up to you, ambushed. 

“Hey,” he says, with a sheepish grin.

You nod stiffly, unsure what to do next. It’s too late to make a run for it. Impossible to turn back the clock and sprint your way across campus. You should have known better, especially when you already assumed he’d be working there tonight. It doesn’t matter now; you’re trapped. 

“Are you heading back to your dorm?” he asks, hands in his pockets. 

You nod once more, voice stuck in your throat, unable to speak. 

“I’ll walk with you.” It’s not a question or a suggestion. It’s final. He’s determined to do it. 

Reluctant, you let him, pivoting on your heel towards the direction of your dorm, remaining silent. He stays beside you, hands in his pocket, glancing at you hesitantly. “What were you doing at Mu Phi?”

So he did notice you first. Eyes focused on the ground, you answer, “Hitch invited us for dinner.”

“Christa also invited you, remember? To the Delta Delta house.”

“What does that have to do with anything?” You don’t mean to sound venomous; well, maybe you do. Why bother bringing that up?

“I’m just reminding you. She’s really nice, you know.”

You snap, annoyed and frustrated. “Yes, Reiner, I’m sure she is very nice. That’s why I think she’d understand why I refuse to go to that house for dinner.”

“Because of me?” 

“Of course it’s because of you!”

He sighs, scratching his arm excessively. Something he does when he’s anxious. “I don’t understand why you’ve been ignoring me. I thought we agreed to be friends. You won’t even respond to my texts. How am I supposed to know that you’re okay?”

“Okay? You want to know if I’m okay? Reiner, I haven’t been okay since the day you broke up with me.” 

“That’s why I’m trying to talk to you.”

You scoff, blood boiling. “You’re the last person I want to talk to. You’re the reason I’m not okay. You broke my heart.” It’s a cheap shot to blame him, but that’s what you do. Fire everything in your arsenal to defend yourself, to hurt him.

His expression turns sullen at your harsh words. “I couldn’t be your boyfriend anymore. It’s fucked up, I know. But I did what I thought was right. I didn’t want to string you along.”

“Then why didn’t you tell me you were feeling this way? Why didn’t you talk to me about it? We tell each other everything. Why keep this away from me?” 

He chews on his lip, nervous. “I was scared, okay? Really scared to lose you. I thought if I started talking about it, you’d break up with me and hate me forever. I wasn’t ready for that.”  

You process this, not sure how you truly feel about it. On the one hand, you understand the fear of losing the most important person in your life. That’s what you two are to each other. Well, were. On the other hand, it isn’t fair that he makes decisions when he’s ready. What about you?

You arrive outside your dorm building, standing feet away from each other, your arms crossed over your chest, protecting your heart. When you don’t respond, he continues. “I care about you, Coco. You’re my best friend. You’re the most important person in my life.”

 “You say that now, but eventually, somebody else will come along. Then what?”

Quietly, he replies, “I don’t know.”

You have to stand up for yourself. Hit him with the bitter truth even if it makes him uncomfortable. You’ve gone far too long agreeing to what he wants, following his plan, sacrificing your sanity to protect him. You don’t owe him anything. He decided to dump you when he was ready. That gives you free reign to do the same. “I don’t want to be a placeholder for whenever the next person comes along. Do you understand how painful that is? To know I’m temporary? I can’t be the most important person in your life. Not like this. That’s why we can’t be friends.” 

He stares at you, dumbfounded that you won’t concede to him. Disappointed that he can’t get what he wants this time, after so many years of doing so. This is what it’s like to have control, to stick up for yourself. Maybe there is some good to come out of this breakup. 

After a while, Reiner speaks, voice trembling, eyes glistening. “You can’t do this to me, Coco. I still…I still love – ”

“Don’t say it. Do not fucking say it.” You cover your ears, as if that will prevent your brain from finishing the rest of that sentence in your head. 

“I mean it, though. No matter what happens between us. I want you in my life.”

“Why is everything about what you want? Have you ever considered what I want?” You begin to pace back and forth on the pavement, arms jittery, increasingly erratic. 

A little louder now, a tinge of arrogance in his tone, he says, “We’ve known each other our whole lives. Pretty sure I have a good idea about what you want.”

“Well, you don’t. It’s different now. You don’t know me just as much as I don’t know you.”

“How can you say this right now? You’re just going to throw us away?!”

“You did it first!” you yell at him, tears streaming down your cheeks.

He steps towards you, hands in a desperate prayer, begging. “I don’t want to lose you. Please, Coco. I need you. I need you.” It’s the magic words that he so expertly chants to you. The ones that tug at your heartstrings, make you weak in the knees. And for a second, you consider taking everything back. Reach out and hold him, forget about the pain you’ve suffered these past two months and agree to be friends. Because you’d do anything to see him happy again. For this to be a long nightmare and to wake up together, perfectly back to normal.

But you don’t. And only because the entrance to your building suddenly swings open, revealing Eren at the door, inspecting the scene with a concerned expression on his face. “Is everything okay out here?”

Reiner glares at him for the interruption. “Who are you?”

Eren steps towards you, glancing at you and Reiner. “I’m Eren, the RA for this building. Heard some yelling and thought I should check it out.” 

“Reiner is leaving now,” you murmur, avoiding Eren’s gaze, embarrassed. “I’m sorry for the commotion.” You turn to head inside, not bothering to wave goodbye to your ex, who stands there, watching you. Eren follows, sneaking glances at Reiner before swiping his ID at the door to let you both in.

“Coco,” he calls out. “Please.”

You ignore him, wiping your tears with the back of your shaky hands, listening to the door shut behind you. 

“Are you okay?” Eren asks, voice calm.

You face him, forcing a weak smile, eyes still wet. “Perfectly fine.” You turn to hurry into your room, overwhelmed and wanting to hide in the safety of your bed forever. 

Before you can, he grabs you gently by the hand, thumb brushing your knuckles. “If you ever need to talk or anything, my door is always open for you.”

You mutter a timid, “Thank you,” then rush down the hall and into your room, heart pounding against your chest. His comforting words replay in your head, trying to replace all that was said between you and Reiner.  

~~~

At the end of the week, Eren hosts a game night in the common room of the dorm building. He’s excited to bond with his residents with pizza from his favorite local Italian joint and some good old-fashioned Mario Kart. He lays the food out on the table and sets up his Nintendo console to the TV, the familiar opening sequence playing on the screen. Then, he patiently waits for his first guest. Fifteen minutes pass and still no one shows up. Where is everybody? 

At the thirty-minute mark, he lays down on the couch, staring up at the ceiling. The pizzas are surely lukewarm now, and the same tune playing on the TV is starting to grate on his ears. He texts Mikasa and Armin, complaining about the complete lack of attendees. Immediately, he gets a call from his sister. When he picks up, she states, “Eren, nobody is there because it’s the Friday night after midterms.”

“So?”

“People are getting ready to party. That’s what I’m doing, that’s what Armin is doing. That’s what everyone is doing.” 

Someone in the background yells, “Tell him to come out with us!” It’s Sasha’s voice. 

He groans, realizing his mistake. “I’m such an idiot.”

“You’re not. Just come out with us. You deserve a break.”

He considers it for a few seconds, before he replies, “Thanks, but I’m gonna head to bed.”

Sasha boos him. “C’mon, Eren! Join us! It’ll be fun!”

“I’m tired, Sash. Next time.”

Believing she can’t be heard, she whispers to Mikasa, “He always says that.” Well, she’s not wrong. 

Eren bids farewell to his friends, wishing them fun tonight. He lays on the couch for a while longer, trying to not to be too devastated at this failure of an event. Finally standing up, he heads to the table to begin packing.

“Am I too late?”

He turns around, surprised by her voice. The resident from down the hall, Room 104. The girl he’s seen cry at least three times now, the most recent being earlier in the week, outside the dorms. A small confrontation with the guy who Eren assumes is her ex, the cause behind all the tears. He was hoping to run into her soon, to check if she’s doing alright. He’s delighted to find her standing in the doorway, a small smile on her face. 

“Hey,” he greets, waving at her. She steps towards him, inspecting the plethora of food on the table. He rubs the back of his neck, embarrassed. “You’re the first person to show up, so we have plenty of food.”

She gives him a sympathetic look, opening the pizza box to grab a slice. “I’m sorry I’m late.”

He grins. “Hey, you’re here, aren’t you? That’s all that matters to me.”

As she settles in on the couch with her food, she explains, “I would have come earlier, but I was helping Annie get ready for a party.”

Eren takes the seat beside her, dropping a piece of pepperoni into his mouth. “I guess everyone really is going out tonight,” he muses, recalling what Mikasa told him earlier. 

“Well, not everyone,” she reminds him, smiling. His chest swells with warmth seeing this side of her. Eyes free of tears, cheeks rounded with happiness, relaxed in his presence. He secretly resents Reiner, or whatever that guy’s name is, for putting her through all the misery she’s had to suffer. 

They eat their pizza, chatting about arbitrary topics like favorite toppings, best local restaurants around the town, even a silly bet about who will beat who in a race. The upbeat melody of the Mario Kart intro still playing in the background is no longer annoying now that Eren has company. 

One box only halfway finished, they wipe their hands clean of pizza grease to start the game, picking their favorite characters. Eren always opts for Yoshi, because of course he’s got to get the green dinosaur. She selects Toad, going on about how adorable she finds him, doing a decent impersonation of his high-pitched, bouncy voice, causing Eren to bust out laughing. They race, moving their bodies along with their controllers, bumping elbows and shoulders with bright smiles on their faces. She nudges him in the ribs when he tosses a red shell at her, knocking her off the course to take first place. He taps her knee with his when he slips on a banana peel she strategically lays out for him. It’s competitive, but not serious, both of them gloating and teasing one another at their victories. After going through most of the courses, they play battle mode, teaming up together to destroy CPUs on the most difficult levels. 

After exhausting most of the game to their heart’s contents, Eren checks his phone, shocked that it’s already past 11 o’clock. He glances at her, checking if she’s ready to leave once they shut down the game. She remains beside him, her attention focused on the piano in the corner of the room. Pointing at it, she asks, “We have a piano in here?”, clearly never noticing it before.

He chuckles. “Yeah we do. Do you play?”

She shakes her head, standing up to approach it, sitting on one side of the bench. He follows her, taking his place next to her. It’s only now that he realizes how close they’ve been all night. His heart starts to beat faster for some reason. 

Finger at a key, she presses on it, filling the room with a very out-of-tune C-note. “Do you play?” she asks.

“Not much, just the basics really. I’m better at guitar.”

“Acoustic?”

“Electric,” he answers, resting his hand on the piano, hovering his fingers over a chord.

“Electric guitar is so cool. I’d love to hear you play sometime.” It’s an innocent suggestion. But for whatever reason, Eren is shy about the idea of her being inside his room, watching him play his guitar. And for a split second, he imagines what other activities they can do with each other, in the privacy of his bedroom. He catches himself, mentally waving away the potentially inappropriate thoughts. 

Desperate to change the subject, he suggests, “Want me to teach you something?”

She nods, eager to learn. He starts his thumb on a C-note. “This is a C-major scale. It starts here,” he presses down, wincing at how out of tune it is. “And then you follow through with the rest of your fingers. That’s a very basic scale, without complicating it too much.”

She does it easily, smiling at the keys in front of her. “Now can you teach me Moonlight Sonata?” she jokes. 

He laughs. “How about Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star instead?”

“Fine,” she says, fake pouting. She’s really cute.

By midnight, she’s perfected the lullaby, enough for the two of them to sing along to it. Even with the notes out of tune, it’s still pleasant to listen to. He then shows her how to play the easiest version of Heart & Soul, a fun duet they manage to practice together within the hour. She’s a quick learner, which he appreciates. After their performance, she looks at him, smiling. “You’re a really good teacher.” 

He brushes his fingers along the keys. “That was my dream job growing up. I always wanted to be a teacher.”

“A music teacher?”

“No, an elementary school science teacher,” he admits. “Thought it’d be so cool to blow their minds with little experiments or facts about the living things.” He stares distantly, a longing grin on his face, fantasizing an imaginary world where he’s pursuing a career he enjoys. 

“So, what made you want to become a doctor instead?” 

At this point, he’s speaking candidly, no longer worried about hiding the truth. He’s comfortable with her. “My dad. He’s a doctor, and it’s pretty much expected of me.”

“Are you enjoying it so far?”

“No, but at the end of the day, I’ll be helping people. And that’s what matters right?” 

There’s a small pause in the conversation as she pushes on one of the keys, the note ringing out in the temporary quiet. “Teachers help people too. More than what society gives them credit for. And besides, no one wants to go to a doctor who isn’t happy being a doctor, right?”

He faces her, processing her statement. “I guess I never thought about that.”

She continues, drumming her fingers lightly on the piano. “You shouldn’t force yourself to do something you don’t want to. If there’s anything I’ve learned these past few months, it’s that forcing yourself to be happy doesn’t actually make you happy. It’s silly to say that out loud, like it’s so obvious. But I’ve made a lot of excuses, pretending I was fine with decisions made on my behalf without my feelings being considered. It was always easier to go along with it, avoid confrontation or an argument. But at what cost? Sacrificing my own happiness? It isn’t worth it, especially when it’s your life that you’re living, nobody else’s.”

This is about her ex. There’s a strong urge to ask her about it, offer a lending ear to listen to what else is on her mind. But he doesn’t question it further. The words she speaks to him resonate. Although they’re both going through different struggles in their lives, she understands him better than he expects her to. Maybe more than anyone in his circle of friends right now. 

“I have a friend who’s an education major. Erwin Smith. His dad is also a teacher. I can give you his contact info if you want to talk to him?” she offers.

“I don’t know,” he responds hesitantly. He’s never considered changing his major. He can already picture the faces his father makes, disdainful and disappointment at his son “downgrading” his career. 

“It doesn’t hurt to have it, right? Just in case?” 

He thinks about it carefully before he eventually relents, whipping his phone out to type out the information she recites to him. She’s right; it doesn’t hurt to have it. It doesn’t mean anything. 

Phone still in his hand, he abruptly blurts out, “We should exchange numbers.” Almost instantly, he regrets it, aware at how inappropriate that would be. But when she grins at him, nodding, he’s immediately relieved. 

“I’m assuming this will be your personal number and not your RA emergency line?” she smirks.

Laughing, he confirms, “Yes, my personal number. I, um, enjoyed hanging out with you tonight. We should definitely do this again.” He passes her his phone as she does the same. 

“You’re teaching me Moonlight Sonata next, remember?” she jokes, tapping her number into his screen.

“Yeah, of course.”

She slips her phone back into her pocket. “Also, if you ever need someone to talk to or listen to you, I’m just down the hall.”

“Hey, that’s supposed to be my line,” he teases, nudging her elbow with his. 

“Well, you’ve helped me out way more than you know, so I want to do the same for you. Rely on me, okay? We’re friends now.”

Outside the room, students begin to stumble through the hall, back from their night of partying. Eren checks his phone, surprised to read 1:35 AM on the screen. “It’s already past 1. I’m sorry for keeping you up.”

“Don’t be. I wanted to be here with you. Thank you for hosting this.”

“Thank you for being the only person to show up.” 

They gaze at each other, smiling. He wants to stay like this a little while longer, but he knows it has to end. At least, for tonight. They’re friends now, and he’ll be able to enjoy that warm, vibrant smile more often, he hopes. 

“Anyways, we should probably sleep soon,” she suggests, glancing at the pizza boxes on the table. “I’ll help you clean up.”

“Thanks. Maybe we can hand some of these out. I bet someone out there has the munchies right now.”

She giggles. “Great idea, Mr. RA.”

They tidy up, clearing the room of trash and putting away the video game console back in Eren’s knapsack. She carries it with her while Eren balances the pizzas in his hands, offering a box to the passing residents that are not-so-discreetly drunk. By the time they make it to his room, he’s only got one left, deeming the event an overall success. Especially now that he’s made a friend from it. 

She sets the bag down on the floor, watching him unlock the door. “I guess this is goodnight,” she says, giving him a small wave as she begins to step backwards down the hall, facing him.

“Yeah. I guess it is. Sweet dreams, okay?”

“Sweet dreams, Eren,” she repeats, turning on her heel to walk to her room. 

~~~

You lay in bed, listening to Annie’s drunken snores beside you, mind focused on your new friend Eren. Snuggling closer to your pillow, you smile to yourself, happy for the first time in what feels like forever. It’s the most fun you’ve had this semester, and most importantly, it’s the longest you’ve gone without sulking about Reiner. 

It’s in this moment that you realize the baby steps you’ve taken so far don’t seem so small anymore. Things are finally starting to look up. 

Taglist:

@batafuraikisu @bloompompom @monirei @filunara @katestrophes @ichinosejager13 @hoperenae @zellskz @e-ayyy @liliorsstuff-blog @maliakealoha @holdmeclosebutdontloveme @chrollohearttags @sailorputa @squickkk @dnyllmh @hellomeow12 @s-cream-ing @potofstewie @conniesbbymama @erzascarlett28 @lem-hhn @roronoazorosbxtchh @ichigostrawberry15 @rhaelrence @lilshades @bigmoodyjoody @icansmellsouls @aangsupremacy @ashsauroras @bakuhoes-bxtch @mrs-wolfwood @si-kamo @jmtherula @imaddicted-b @monkemanjeager @neesiewrote @large-juice @chiinni @belovedackerman

[everythingblackblack]

Hakuba should propose to Kaito then the white imagery would fit his civilian identity too via giving him his surname. Plus Kaito keeping people in the dark and operating in the shadows (black) and Hakuba recognising the good in him and being determined to bring everything about Kid into the light (white), also the Kuroba or clover on the black hat accessory reference in Kaitou 1412's original costume as well as the black feathers (translation of Kaito's family name) being used by Corbeau while he traumatised Kaito with his father's appearance. It just has lots of satisfying symbolism of Kaito finally being able to part of with the weight of his family's tragedy and his father's legacy. Because Kuroba-kun and Kid are just means of getting to know Kaito, Hakuba has no investment in Kid or the Kurobas beyond Kaito himself. Kaito isn't a generic civilian identity that's just another fabrication to hide the criminal secrets or the punniest name for a Japanese phantom thief (because he was literally born and raised for this purpose even with his parents' absences they, including Jii, only enter Kaito's life to help him be Kid for his mother and father's mistakes or lie/escape into another life via Vegas or Poker Face) it's the name of the person Saguru loves and he's his and no matter what name he goes by or what he lies about and hides Saguru will love him, figure it out and find the truth. He'll always ask Kaito for his honest answers and give him Real options to be Himself in it's realest form.

A funny thing happened to me while I was reading your question, I happened to have my playlist on shuffle and "Good Luck, Babe!" started playing, so if you see me rambling a lot, attribute it to that funny coincidence.

You made me think of an arranged/convenient marriage. Not exactly though.

Kaito, who feels hurt and lost after finding out his father was alive and mom knew about it, doesn't want to talk to Jii at all because he can't stand the thought of him taking his father's side (he's not sure if he will or not, so he just chooses not to deal with it), can't ask Aoko or her father for help, doesn't feel worthy of their help.

So he desperately and insecurely chooses Hakuba. He wants something that feels close.

Hakuba is probably having a cup of tea while enjoying a book, hears knocking on the window in his room, and is surprised to meet Kaito.

"You still want to know my reason?" Kaito doesn't mention KID, he doesn't need to, Hakuba has a bad feeling, something very serious must have happened for someone like KID to even consider revealing his reasons for stealing, he rushes to let him in, offers him tea, but Kaito rejects it.

They both sit in silence.

"I don't know how to start, it's a mess, actually, my life is a mess."

After a couple of minutes, Kaito begins to tell Saguru about his love for magic and his father, the history of KID, and everything else.

The word that Saguru thinks fits well in this situation is “Sad,” and of course, he is so upset.

“Marry me.” The words are out of his mouth before he can process them, it’s not an unfounded request, but it was a proposal made by his emotions.

“What?”

“I’m sorry if I was so abrupt, still, I mean what I said, I definitely need to think it over better, but I can’t just leave you like this.”

"But how would getting married help?"

"First, because you could adopt a Western name if you wanted, and because it seems very cruel to me that they named you like that… as if your destiny was sealed from the day you were born and you couldn't change it."

"But we're not in love."

"I am."

"Oh."

"You can think about it, meditate on it if you want, I would never force you to do something you don't want, even if you don't accept me that way, I will watch over you, and I won't let you get hurt again. Take my name, my contacts, and whatever you need to get back on your feet."

Kaito thinks Hakuba is being kind, he doesn't want him to be a second choice or receive a half-hearted love. He has nothing to gain by accepting, instead, Kaito would be the only one to benefit.

[ctrlsht]

I want to request a ff. can you make yandere CEO sugar daddy jungkook ff? if you are accepting my request then please don't make yn the typical humble sweet innocent girl who gots herself into that situation just because her dear mom or grandma is on verge of dying and she doesn't have any money so she took that path to save them. no please make her character different. Like a spoiled brat and arrogant girl who wanna have lavish life and power forever and takes advantage of the fact of having powerful handsome most sought after man on her side. kinda gold digger type but not really since she doesn't want to leave him and she actually enjoys his obsession/yandereness until it gets too much. I want to actually see kinda negative female lead than typical positive character? Doesn't really have to be negative just bitchy kinda toxic demanding clingy character etc.

Btw i loved your ffs who is in control and seat of power. I hope you keep making more yandere Jungkook ffs in future. I hope to see more of your ffs in future. You have already become one of my fav author in Tumblr 🩷

Don’t Blame Me | sugar daddy!jungkook one-shot au teaser

pairing: sd!jungkook x reader genre: one-shot & yandere au

summary: You can have everything you want and need as long as you have Jeon Jungkook by your side. You were enjoying everything that Jungkook gives you and as long as you obey him. You’re sure to yourself that you will never fail him but he was the one who failed you. Everything is fine until he gets too much. 

content  & warnings: sugar daddy & ceo jk, college reader, manipulative behavior, unhealthy behavior, possessive & obsessive jk, yandere, bitchy reader, jk sabotaging reader’s career

date of release: June 12, 2023 | evening (KST)

Preview:

“Baby.” Is the first thing he said after a long silence between the two of you.

“A-are you… Mad?” He asked in his low and soft voice like he really sounded guilty from what he just did. 

“What was that, Jungkook?” You finally spoke and annoyance is evident in your voice. 

“Baby, I’m sorry. I just want us to have our dinner because we haven’t done it for weeks already.” His voice was still low and soft just like a child that was scrolled by his mom. 

He doesn’t like it when you’re mad. It rarely happens but when you did, he felt like he did really something terrible for you to get this angry. 

“It was our due date this week, Jungkook and we’re not yet done with our paper. We still have a lot of things to do and I don’t understand why you can’t understand it.” 

He’s getting anxious with how your voice sounds. You’re so pissed and he immediately regrets the actions he just did. 

You sound like you hate him now and that you regret being with him. It’s like any minute, you would open your door and leave him alone. 

By just thinking about it makes him crazy. 

He held your hands and placed them on his lips and you can feel his hands shaking.

“Y/N baby I’m sorry! I’ll promise that I’ll be the one to finish all your works I swear. You already knew that those things are only a piece of cake for me and I can finish that in no time I promise!” He speaks so fast and you feel his anxiousness within his shaking voice and hands. 

“I acted without thinking. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.” He added as he intertwined his fingers with yours and his lips touched the back of your hand.

He’s too scared that he has to feel you right now in order to calm his nerves because when he doesn't, you might drift away from him. 

“But seriously, Jungkook. What was that?” You asked after a long silence. 

The more that you call him by his name, the more anxious he gets because you don’t call him only by his name. 

“When I read your message—

“I thought you didn’t read them?” He looked at you in your eyes and he bites his lips. 

“I lied. I’m sorry.” He admits and you become more confused with his actions. You don’t understand what’s with him. 

“Baby, I'm uneasy and I felt that something is not right and I saw your location and I saw the guy and I don’t know, I feel like my heart will explode! Babe, I can’t sit well because you’ve been declining my invites multiple times and I don’t know what’s happening and I’m overthinking things.”

Even though he talks too fast, you understand where he’s coming from. You’ve seen this before and you know the reason why this is happening.

“So you thought that I ditched you for Yuan?” You asked, trying to hide your smile. 

“Who’s Yuan?” When he asked that, you immediately cracked up.

“Baby, who’s Yuan?” He asked once again.

“The guy I’m with. Jungkook, what the heck!” You can’t take it as you laugh so hard. 

“Babe, why are you—

“You’re getting jealous of someone you forgot! Who’s not going to laugh at that?” You speak in between your laughs. 

Your laughs continued until you realized that he doesn’t find the situation funny. Your laugh slowly fades when you see how serious he is. 

“I was just kidding! Why so serious, Ggukie?” You spoke and you clung to his arm. You still find the situation funny and you tried your best not to laugh since he’s being serious.

After  a few moments, he spoke. 

“Did you really… Ditch me?” He asked in his low and soft voice and you instantly looked at him in horror while you shook your head.

“Of course not! Why would I do that?” You respond in defense. He looked at your eyes trying to see the sincerity of your words but he’s having a hard time finding it. He looked away as he looked down and you took a deep breath.

“Babe, look at me.” You caressed his face as you moved his head to look at you. His eyes glow in the dark and you love how pleading his eyes look. 

“I understand where you’re coming from but believe me when I say that whenever I decline your invites is because I really do have to finish something. Babe, you know how I value my academics and I am aiming for a latin honor. You know that right?” You brushed your thumb off his cheek and he closed his eyes to feel your touch. 

“And Yuan? He’s just a research partner and nothing else. And please, don’t be insecure because of him. He’s nothing compared to you. And I don’t like him either.” You lean forward to kiss his forehead. 

“Don’t you ever think that I would ever like him because it’s a fucking insult. I have a standard, babe and he didn’t even meet the 1% of my standard.” You spoke in a demeaning tone before you pushed your back at the backrest. 

a/n: This is the first time that I received a ff request and tbh, I was kinda nervous because I might not meet the expectation of the person who requested it. I write everything based on what the ff requester wants and hopefully, I did it right! It was hard for me to go out of my comfort zone when it comes to writing (what I mean is writing a ff that wasn’t me who plotted it) but I realized, why not try it? To the one who requested this, I hope you’ll like it! 

[heyidkyay]

And I'm petrified of being alone, now |

Part Twenty-Four

Summary: She’s just trying to get by, really. What with being a single parent to her four year old son whilst simultaneously trying to kick start a successful career as a radio presenter. She’s got everything she’s ever wanted though, friends close by, a mum who’s merely a phone call away, and of course her baby boy. What else is there to wish for? But then, it’s not long before her relatively normal life gets upended and turned on its head, and she’s suddenly forced to deal with situations she’s never even thought to imagine.

What happens when one mention of a certain controversial singer on her show sends a flood of unexpected challenges her way?

Authors note: I’m here:) finally. It’s been a while, idk how long, not that long but long enough i guess, sorry for the wait! This one is wordy but also has a lot going on, so hope you enjoy!

Ngl, this can probably be read as a standalone if anyone’s seeing this and not started the series, it’s just a bit angsty and mostly smut? But unsure, I said probably! X

Warnings: Arguing, usual Matty and Mouse thinking (feels like it needs its own warning at this point, they’re saddos), smut, unprotected sex, EMOTIONS (because yeah)

> Last update: look back here if you'd like!

Masterlist

There was something raw in the bitterness that was love. Like the sour skin of an apple that was first thought to be sweet. Love was deceiving in itself really, but it was never alone. It brought life and light. It wrought anger. It stirred both jealousy and pity. It gave and gave, until all you were left with was that tart tang aftertaste. 

Some people revelled in it.

Others, withered away.

Years before, perhaps maybe not even that long ago now, Matty would have belonged to the former. He had enjoyed the strings he found that could tie him to people, sex and money had given him the ability to do it, to keep them there, to pull them alongside him. And he’d indulged in it all, beyond what most would consider extortionate. 

And still, even after everything, when the fun had ended and the games had been discarded, and he’d just been tossed off somewhere to the side… Alone once more. He had continued on. On and on and on, until he ultimately had lost himself completely.

The last few months had shifted something in him though.

And now here he was, still angry and bitter and resentful. But full of actual love. The raw type. The kind that left you marvelling at the most stupid things— insipid little concepts that held no actual value or any real detail worth getting all starry-eyed over.

It had wormed its way into the hollow shell that was his heart and rebuilt some part of him that he believed he had long since destroyed.

He wanted to scoff at the very thought. The very idea that an emotion could be felt so strongly that it differed the world around you; that, singularly, it could change you. The notion was far too complex, too out there to even begin to fathom, but then again, Matty supposed that emotions were exactly that. Complex.

It sent his mind reeling. Had his entire body aching with a fever to expel the feeling completely, if only so that he could think freely again, so it wouldn’t hurt to merely breathe anymore.

You should have told me.

He knew that. He had admitted as much.

And yet, he still hadn’t told her.

He’d lied.

Why didn’t you tell me?

And that was the question, wasn’t it? Why hadn’t he just told her?

Fear, he guessed.

Yet another morbid emotion in which Matty had always been so wary of. Another lost feeling he thought he’d swallowed whole and hidden somewhere deep down. Because there was no fear in a drug induced haze. When you were off partying or chasing some other euphoric high. What the fuck was there to be fearful of? When the chilling buzz which shook you to your very core blanketed over everything else.

When there was always that silence.

That numb quiet he had chased and craved and cherished.

Though, he supposed, it was nothing compared to the fear of losing this.

Of losing her.

Still, Matty could not for the life of him find it in himself to tell her exactly that. Those words lost on him, lodged in the column of his throat and etching themselves a home there.

“Where do we go from here?”

He blinked at the sound of his own voice, looking up at her shadowed expression and at how tired she then seemed. How different she now looked compared to the moment they’d first met. 

She’d been something of a presence even then. Always effortlessly complex. With her soft smile and guarded eyes. Eyes he’d gone and fucking wondered about for hours on end.

Those eyes which were now caught on the far wall stood opposite, the one lined with coloured photo frames and that odd little doodle Teddy had gotten in trouble for only a couple of weeks prior. 

The realisation made Matty mourn the few days they’d spent apart.

After a long moment, she finally shrugged at him and he found himself swallowing tightly at the movement. Startled by her seeming lack of care. 

“I don’t want to lose you, Squeaks.” 

It was honest. As honest as he could be.

She huffed an amused breath in return though, “Not like you’re short on company, Matty.”

He felt his gaze snap up to meet hers then, head shifting with it. 

“What’s that even meant to mean?” He asked her, frowning now, at the way she had crossed her arms over her chest and how her shoulders had hunched on their own accord whilst she casually moved to glance out the window. Matty forced himself up onto his feet, hating the fact she had turned away from him.

“I saw everything, Matty.” Mouse replied tiredly, as though she was fed up, fed up with this, with them. “I saw the articles.”

Matty’s stomach bottomed out at her words, he stepped towards her. “Nothing happened.” He murmured, taking another step closer. “Nothing fucking happened, Squeaks. I swear it.”

She tensed but didn’t quite flinch at his sudden approach, so he kept a little distance between them, even as desperate as he was to hold her. To shake her enough so that she would see sense, that she’d realise how stupid he would have had to have been to have gone near anyone else. That girl was no one, she’d meant nothing. 

“You can swear that, can you?” She mocked him, one corner of her mouth toying with a merciless smile that didn’t quite suit her. “You were gone, Matty. Fucking out of it. That much was clear to see just from the photos alone.”

Matty stared at her helplessly.

She shook her head.

“I’d had a couple drinks. That isn’t a crime!” He stressed, automatically falling onto the defensive, “Didn’t mean I was stupid enough to get with the first person I fucking saw! That girl- she was off her head too. Had mates with her even! But she was just trying to help me, Mouse. That’s all it was.” 

She was shaking her head again now, tongue catching on her incisor; a dead giveaway to how stressed she was, how anxious she was getting. Matty only wished to shoulder it all, that defensiveness of his faltering slightly at the sight of her trying to hide it all. To stay strong. How fucking long had she had to do that?

“I feel like such a fool, Matty.” She finally spoke, her voice trembling with the onslaught of tears that glazed her eyes but she didn’t dare let fall. “A fucking fool. ‘Cause I’d thought that things were okay, that we were okay. That I could finally relax and let you in. But then-“ She paused, a sad huff leaving her, “Then you went and dropped this mess in my lap and somehow expected me to just deal with it. To tell you it’s all fine. That we could make it right.”

Mouse turned then, ever so slowly, looking about as defeated as Matty had ever seen her. He felt his chest burn with the last breath he hadn’t remembered taking let alone hold onto, too afraid to look away, to even move. 

“But you embarrassed me. You’ve made the whole world believe I am that fool. That I was as naive as they’d first made me out to be. As my friends thought me to be.” 

Her smile was shattered and broken, her voice wet and hoarse, but she continued on even as her hands fell limply to her sides and she took a single step closer.

“And to make things worse, you didn’t just hurt me, Matty. You hurt Teddy too.”

–

Hit them where it hurts.

That was the saying, wasn’t it?

But it only left me feeling all the more sour- gutless. As well as a little stupid, I supposed, wondering if Matty even cared for Teddy at all, or how he had felt the last couple days.

Though I shouldn’t have second guessed it, not when the way Matty’s face immediately paled and then fell proved me wrong. 

Deep down, I knew that he cared. In his own odd way he had always cared. But to know it and to see it were two entirely different things.

And although it was true, that Matty had in fact hurt Teddy. It still felt like a shitty thing to say to him then. But he’d hurt me as well, hadn’t he. And even though I’d been hurting most of my life, Matty being the reason for all that hurt pained me in a way I couldn’t even comprehend. 

“I didn’t-”

I scoffed at his attempted reply, but my heart wasn’t in it, breaking all over again. I wondered how long we could drag this out. If we even would.

“Mean to?” I finished for him, shaking my head stupidly. “I know you didn’t mean to, Matty. Doesn’t change the fact that you still did it.”

His eyes slipped closed just as his lips fell apart, and when he opened them again I was stuck staring into his devastated gaze. 

“If I could take it all back, I would.” He breathed, “I promise you I would.”

I swallowed back my own tears, even as they burned and pricked at my throat and eyes. “But you can’t.”

And it was as simple as that, wasn’t it? He couldn’t ever take it back. 

I don’t want to lose you.

He knew just how to get under my skin, past all that rusted armour of mine.

It was what made this all so much harder. 

“Tell me what to do, Squeaks.” Matty croaked pleadingly, hand reaching out towards me before he looked down at it, blinked, and then let it fall. “I’ll do it, just– tell me.”

What was left that he could do? When it felt like things had so suddenly and so horrifically fallen out from under us.

“I don't know.” I told him honestly, in a barely there whisper, “I just don't know, Matty.”

He stepped even closer then, hand moving to capture my jaw in a determined haste, not restraining himself like he had just moments before. I tried to pull away, titling my chin and looking off to the side as I clenched my teeth, but his thumb was there, luring me back in, forcing me to meet his eye.

“I’m not just gonna give up.” His other hand jumped to cradle my face, a cushion to those heated words. 

I was reluctant in my needless wanting, desperate to be held whilst simultaneously wanting to push him away. So I lifted my hands up to cover his own, unsure of the choice they’d make. To stay, or go.

“It’s not about that, Matty.” I heard myself say pathetically, voice wavering with each word, “You can’t just forget this.”

His dark eyes were trained on me, flickering over every square inch of my scarred face. I’d never felt insecure about them when I was around him, but this moment felt too heated, too high strung. And I’d been burning the candle at both ends the last few days, so with him being this close, this intense, every emotion I’d felt was brimming closer and closer to the surface. 

Instead of facing him, I turned away, hiding once more as I worked my jaw and felt my hands slip down to the backs of his forearms.

A shared breath and then,

“Don’t do that.” Matty whispered in the quiet, almost begging. “Don’t hide from me.”

His thumb smoothed over the skin of my cheek and I was all but putty in hands, looking back at him just as a tear escaped me and slid to meet the pad of it. 

Matty brushed the tear away without thought, before he leant in to rest his forehead against my own. The action forced me to cling tighter to his arms, eyes closing to keep from embarrassing myself any further. I wouldn’t cry. 

I wouldn’t cry.

“Look at me.” He demanded, nose so close that I could practically sense its phantom touch. And foolishly, I did as he asked. “You-” His breath stuttered as his eyes pleaded with me, sounding forced as it broke free from him, his fingers making a home for themselves in my hair. 

“You don’t know what you do to me. How much of a mess I’ve made of myself. How much I have missed you.” Matty confessed, his voice quiet in the small space shared between us, in a place where we were both sheltered and unseen. “And I’m sorry. I am so fucking sorry. Enough that I’ll keep on repeating it until you fucking believe me. Enough that I’d do just about anything for you to see how much I want this.”

He sucked in a breath, and I blinked back at him, lips tingling with the sensation of his proximity. 

“I know I messed up. I know.” He repeated, eyes flickering back and forth between my own whilst his thumbs trailed the line of my hair. “But all I’m asking for is a chance to make it right. To be better. Squeaks, I’d do it all over again in a heartbeat if I could.”

His breath was tickling the skin of my cheek as well as the corner of my mouth, it almost made it difficult to think let alone remember how to breathe. I wanted–

Suddenly my eyes were looking down, focused on his parted mouth, on the stubble he’d let grow across the cut of his chin as well as his upper lip. His nose finally brushed past my own, touching ever so carefully as one or both of us pressed nearer, almost there, inching closer but not close enough.

“Tell me no.” 

Instantly, I was thrown back to that first night he kissed me. I hadn’t told him no then, and for some reason I couldn’t find it in me to decline him now. 

So instead I took, all but biting as my hand cradled the back of his neck and closed that short amount of distance between us. My nails dug into the exposed skin of his nape, where the collar of his shirt jumped with each move he made. My teeth nipped at his lower lip, angry in my attempt to swallow him whole, teeth clashing as we both stumbled, moving and moving until Matty’s back hit the nearest wall.

How the roles had reversed, I thought to myself as Matty’s shoulders flexed beneath his shirt and jumped under my ever roaming hands. I hated the desire that it stirred through me, knowing how easily he could take back control with his carefully contained strength. But he didn’t, instead he gave my fury something to latch onto.

My hand lifted to pin one of his wrists somewhere to the left of his head, glare not wavering even as his stubborn gaze met my own. He was as riled up as me.

“You have some nerve.” I all but spat, watching on as his chest rose and fell, questioning how quickly everything had switched.

“Yeah?” Matty bit back, those familiar brown eyes- a colour that had always brought me comfort- were blazing now as they trailed over the flush that I was sure lined my face. “Why’s that? You’re the one with me pinned, darlin’.” 

His heavy gaze traced the bow of my lip, slumping ever slightly in his stance so that his head could fall closer forward. My breath hitched.

That was all he needed apparently, to earn the upper hand here. Because in a moment, the room was spinning and then I was the one being crowded against the wall, fury be damned.

Contrary to my previous endeavour, Matty’s touch was still as careful as ever, making it that much more obvious that I could slip away if I so wanted. But the question was whether or not I did.

“Matty–”

But he just carried on, as though he hadn’t even heard me speak, voice a low breathy murmur. 

“I’ve been stuck in this endless loop. Driving myself mad.” He told me, his knee angled enough so that he could let his head dip towards the juncture of my neck, his mouth pausing by the shell of my ear whilst a finger gently trailed its way up over my hip. “Wonderin’ if I’d lost this for good.”

My heart pounded in my chest as the ghost of his words tickled my skin, tensing when his nose ever so slightly grazed my jaw. 

That finger of his continued to move, working its way up my torso, jumping across my ribs and up to the bone of my collar. My gaze was fixed on the opposing wall, on the mirror that framed my dazed face and the back of his head. My hand worked its way into his unruly curls.

“But you’re as stubborn as me, see.” Matty added, luring me in, “And I’m not the type to give up on a sure thing.” His words held enough bite that I snapped back to meet his stare, he tilted his head at me whilst I scowled.

“Excuse me?”

Matty smiled, lids heavy as his careful hand danced its way back down my front. 

“And this,” He said, almost in a whisper, ignoring my retort as he hooked my leg around his waist, “This is a sure thing.”

A soft breath escaped me even as I batted his hand away, but he simply reached up to grip at my chin, touch tender even with the way his calloused thumb dragged down my lower lip.

I was slowly beginning to imagine that this was all a dream, something my sick mind had gone and conjured up in hopes to ignore all of the hurt he had put me through. Because this couldn’t be right, things couldn’t have fallen back into place this easily. 

“Matty.” I tried again, firmer this time, but was captured by the look his eyes held, probably having understood the expression that must have just crossed my face.

“What did you do, Squeaks?” He asked me almost hurriedly, shaking my chin between his forefinger and thumb, my previous anger and doubt melting slightly as I leaned further into his touch. “Did you want me to hurt, too?”

I blinked, caught off guard by the sudden question, his swift change in topic. Baffled by the fact that he was now trying to pin this back on me. 

Was that really what this was? I wanted to ask.

Matty didn’t give me the opportunity to say a thing though. My surprise had stalled me briefly, but it had evidently been long enough to allow him to simply carry on.

“What did you do, eh? Tell me.” He breathed before he pressed his mouth to my jaw, once and then twice, pulling away just as I tilted my head to accommodate him, “Did you go out, baby? Find somebody else? Or did you just stay here, waiting for me?”

I reeled back, anger spiking again. “Fuck you.”

Matty’s eyes flickered back and forth between mine. 

“I’m trying to get you to.” He said, always so brazen and snarky, even in the moments where I hated him most. The hand I had previously slapped away went back to the leg he still had draped over his hip, snaking up over my knee and to my thigh. 

My glare didn’t waiver, even as my breathing picked up at the pressure his fingertips wrought on my skin. 

“Tell me no.” He finally repeated, eyes failing to meet mine. And how was I supposed to? When having him this close brought back that fire he’d put out in me, when he was kissing my neck so sweetly?

“We’ll regret it.” It was as close to a no as I could get, enough to have him pause. Matty looked to me then, his hold loosening on my body but still holding. Hoping.

“Do you care?”

I marvelled at the question, did I care?

I cared so much it pained me.

But he hadn’t meant it like that. That much I knew.

Do you care if you regret it? Because, what if you don’t? 

With Matty there was always chance– he was the type to play the odds, to push his luck.

What if.

What if, what if, what if?

Shaking my head, I was forced to question if he understood me as much as I did him. If he could see each of my thoughts just as they dawned on me, flashing across my face like a story being told. 

Then I wondered whether or not I even wanted him to understand. This, this thing we were doing would only further complicate things between us, but perhaps this could be a goodbye.

But, if this was a goodbye, why was he looking at me like that? Watching and waiting for me to truly answer.

Tell me no, he’d said.

Matty’s gaze swept over my face, as though trying to read me, maybe in hopes to find what it was he was really searching for. 

Tell me no.

“Please.”

And my resolve broke at the word.

“Okay.” I heard myself say in reply, nodding quickly, and that was seemingly all the permission he needed before Matty was wrapping his arms around my waist and pulling me towards him fully.

My hands floundered momentarily before they were back on his shoulders, his teeth nipping at my neck. 

I moaned, eyes falling shut as he pressed hot, open-mouthed kisses down my skin, teeth scraping before his tongue swirled to soothe their angry ambush. I could smell him everywhere now, the shampoo I was so used to stealing, as well as the only aftershave he’d ever claimed to like.

His hips rolled into mine, pressing himself right against the fabric of my trousers and the underwear which had grown damp during our heated argument. 

I didn’t want to linger too long on the thought of my body’s obvious betrayal, too caught up in him to think about how wrong this should all feel.

“Shit.” Matty groaned, breath catching with it as he continued to grind against me.

I gasped back, grabbing at him harder as he bit down on the curve of my neck. I nipped at his jaw in retaliation, nails digging into the skin of his back, hoping to leave a mark.

“I knew you’d miss me.” He grunted into the base of my throat, the hands which held my waist dipping beneath the hem of my shirt to explore further. “Even when you’re angry you’ll wait. ‘Cause no one else can touch like me.”

A whine bypassed my lips almost involuntarily as he continued to rut against me, I wanted to be angry- no, in fact, I was angry. But all emotion other than want was blurring at the edges of my mind now, being pushed further and further back by each eager kiss he peppered along my jaw.

“You really–” I jerked in surprise, cutting myself off with a short gasp when his hand slipped past the hem of my trousers, fingers pressing against the damp fabric he found there. 

“What was that?” He provoked, and I could hear the smirk in his voice as he trailed over my covered clit, causing me to whimper before I was biting down on my lower lip. Matty didn’t like that much. “Come on, I wanna hear you.” He muttered, pressing a little harder, wanting a reaction. “Tell me.”

“You’re such a bastard.” I panted, head falling against his shoulder as my hips pushed further into his touch, seeking more.

Matty laughed, all breathy and lovely, mouth catching on the lobe of my ear before he hissed, “Yeah, but you like that about me.”

His hand was gone with that and I was almost tempted to ask, to even plead with him for its return, aching all the more now, enough that all I could think about was riding his fingers until I couldn’t think at all. 

But then Matty was grabbing my waist again, his grip hard, firm, and I swallowed when he whispered into my ear once more.

“Jump.”

Without thinking, I jumped. 

We collided, his mouth on mine and the two of us moving as though it was second nature. And in a way, it was. But it shouldn’t have been. I knew that. I tried to remind myself of it. 

He shouldn’t be here.

But he was. Walking his way through my flat with ease, effortlessly missing each sharp corner and the miniscule step which led back into the hallway. He was blind, my hands in his hair as he manoeuvred us into my bedroom, throwing me down onto sheets that he’d never seen, let alone slept in. 

I tugged him down with me, his hands moving to unbutton those fucking jeans he always wore as he worked his way back into my mouth. 

He hovered over me after kicking them off, my head pressed to the pillows as his eyes roamed every inch of my face. “Beautiful.” He whispered, as though he hadn’t really meant to say the word aloud.

My breath hitched anyway but Matty paid it no mind, leaning in closer to kiss me again, slower this time around, though his hands were still quick, tugging at the hem of my top enough so that I got the hint. I lifted myself up, breaking away to take it off and toss it to the side. 

Matty kissed his way down my neck again, following the trail of scars down my torso until his fingers paused to hook around the top of my trousers. I nodded at his silent ask, planting my feet a little firmer on the mattress so that they could follow my tee.

Matty stopped then, kneeling between my parted thighs, eyes caught on the panties I was wearing, and I could swear something in his gaze shifted as he stared down at me. 

“Lace?” He murmured, fingers curling around my thighs tight enough to bruise as he pushed forward, closer to my face. “Really?”

It was a loaded question. Almost felt like an accusation.

I shrugged– I hadn’t meant to end up here, but it hadn’t been subconscious when I’d picked them out of the pile this morning. He liked the way they looked, had told me so one night spent at his when he’d talked me into smoking a couple joints with him sprawled out on his living room floor. 

I opened my mouth to reply but Matty didn’t quite catch the motion, already busying himself with the task of pulling the lace down my thighs. His fingers, calloused from years of playing guitar, dragged alongside the black material rolling down my legs. I tensed at the feeling, zeroing in on the slow motion, then listened to him groan at the sight before they were gone completely.

I watched him pull away, balling the damp fabric up in a fist before leaning over the side of the bed to drop them on top of his jeans. 

“A souvenir?” I couldn’t help but question, mostly out of mirth, but humour helped deflect from the weight I felt at having him here.

Matty hummed, fingers already back on me, trailing the length of my right leg before he was stretching his way back up again, head stopping between my parted thighs and nosing at a crease sat at the very top. He didn’t answer me though, instead choosing to shut me up with another gasp by dragging his thumb across my folds.

“Matty.”

“Hm?” He hummed again, having sat back on his heels to watch me squirm as he continued on. I shot him a rather annoyed glare.

“Take off your shirt and fuck me.” 

His brows rose languidly when he flicked his eyes back up to meet mine, then tilted his head. “But I’m having so much fun.”

With a swift kick to his side, Matty’s hand fell away and he shook his head around the beginnings of a smile. “Always so demanding.” He tutted and before I could spit something back– probably about him being the biggest hypocrite I knew– he was placing his hands either side of my head and leaning forward so that his lips were right beside my ear, his breath fanning the shell of it. “You gonna beg for it?”

My breathing grew heavy as I watched him pull away, dragging a finger up the inside of my thigh before stilling ever so briefly and venturing on, up over my hip and then my ribs. He pressed a slow kiss to my chest, eyes flicking up to find mine as his tongue swirled over the skin, there and then gone.

“Come on–”

He huffed a quiet laugh, the force of it lighting goosebumps over my exposed flesh. “Come on, baby. Beg.”

I rolled my eyes, reaching up to grab at his neck but he was already dancing out of my reach. He jutted his chin. 

“Matty.” I huffed.

“Yeah?”

I really wanted to throttle him, “Fuck me. I’m not asking.”

The corner of his mouth tugged itself up into a small smirk, “Good enough.”

A disbelieving chuckle escaped me, one which was quickly cut short by his wandering hands finding purchase on my hips once more, before he dragged me down the length of the bed, his mouth finding purchase on the swell of my breast.

He pressed fast kisses along the curve of it until his tongue flicked out over the nipple, causing me to gasp. My hands flew out to tangle themselves in his hair when he lapped it into his mouth to suck and I groaned at the weight of his hands cradling the curve of my back. 

“Matty.”

He hummed and the sound sent vibrations rippling out across my skin, I fisted my hands into his curls harder.

Shifting until my hips found his whilst he lavished at my chest, I pressed up into him, both annoyed by the fact he was still clad in his boxers and pleased by the very visible wet patch I could see. I ground against him and the sensation elicited moans from the pair of us, his hands flying down to hold my hips steady.

“Patience.” He murmured, but I was having none of it, lifting a leg against his arse to spur him closer. Matty’s head jerked up at the surprise before he looked down at me and stared. “You’ll be the death of me.”

“You better hope not.” I replied, hands finding the hem of his shirt and dragging it off before he could fight me on it. “I’ll make it painful.”

“Counting on it.” Matty murmured back, hair now a mess, either from the clutch I’d had on it moments before or from the way I’d all but yanked his top over his head. “On all fours,” He said roughly, tapping my outer thigh twice. My already flushed skin heated further at the understanding of how he wanted to take me but– contrary to popular belief– I didn’t argue and rolled onto my stomach.

Palms to the sheets, I pushed myself up onto my hands and knees, eyes trained on the headboard. I grinned to myself when I heard Matty groan at the sight, looking back over my shoulder only briefly to see him palming himself through his boxers.

“Don’t have all day, Healy.” I prompted after a moment passed, just before the mattress shifted beneath his weight. I heard something drop to the floor a second later before he was right up behind me.

I jolted a tad at his sudden touch, then was forced to focus on the way his hands slid over my hips with that same familiarity they’d always done, moving up to the swell of my arse to squeeze it before dropping back down to spread my legs further apart.

A moment passed and I was forced to wait in the silence he then gifted me, waiting and waiting until I finally went to say something. It was then that I felt a finger glide down my spine, dragging ever so slowly over my jumping muscles. 

“Hands,” Matty then reminded and I was forced to blink away the haze I had drifted into, reaching up to grab onto the headboard just as I felt him swipe his dick between my thighs, guiding himself up over my folds, pushing past them so he rested at my entrance. 

I let go of a rush of air, splaying my hands further against the headboard before he slammed into me without any warning at all, all the way up to the hilt whilst I cried out at the sudden fullness. “Fuck.” I hissed, head falling between my shoulders as I winced. 

I breathed through the bit of pain that came with the thrust, acknowledging that Matty didn’t move an inch and instead keeping still, hands holding my hips even as he leaned over to whisper, “You good?”

His voice was surprisingly soft in the quietness that encased the flat, reminding me of other times we’d spent here, both like this and in other odd moments. It made my chest ache.

I took another moment to adjust to him before I nodded, “Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine.”

He hummed in turn but didn’t question it, just waited, thumbs circling the skin on my hips for a moment in a manner so gentle and yet so very Matty, before finally, he moved. 

His thrusts were shallow and slow at first, his thumbs keeping the same steady tempo as they continued to soothe the tops of my hips. I moaned at the feel of him, before I managed to roll my hips back to meet his own, enjoying the sound that escaped him.

“So good.” He said, hand sliding further up my side and towards my ribs before I was titling my head back and Matty was holding a fistful of my hair. He just held it for a bit, forearm pressed against the skin of my back before his thrusts began to grow harder, tugging more and more.

The room was quickly filled with the sounds of our groans along with the bedframe rocking against the wall and I praised all the Gods above for the fact that there were currently no neighbours residing in the flat beyond it, before I was quickly swept up once more in the thick scent of sweat and sex. Matty fucking into me with a desperation I’d never quite experienced from him before.

I panted beneath him, nails digging into the wood of my headboard whilst he picked up the pace.

I couldn’t quite focus on anything but him. His breathy whispers, his fingertips which dotted my skin, the feel of him rocking in and out of me. It was almost as though nothing else existed but this moment, even if I knew it would soon end. His thrusts getting sloppier, his grip tightening, his murmured praises increasing by a tenfold. 

“Come on, baby.”

I liked when he called me that.

Made me feel special. 

But that thought soon soured. Because, was I really? 

How could I be anything special when my whole life I’d been nothing but a doormat for people to walk all over? I couldn’t help but think that Matty would be the same, like he’d gotten too close and finally seen what everybody else already had.

“Squeaks, baby. What do you need?”

I whimpered at his ask, tears collecting in the corners of my eyes. “I–”

What the fuck did I need? It wasn’t meant to feel so loaded, that question. But it felt as though the walls were now closing in. Because was this it? Was this the end?

“I–” I tried, feeling Matty’s fingers slip from the ends of my hair before a gentle palm laid itself flat on the small of my back.

“So good for me.” I heard him say and I moaned at the slight praise, breathing harder as he continued to mumble mostly to himself, “So pretty. So good.”

I was almost there, back arching under his palm as the other moved away from the right grasp it held on my hip, fingers finally finding my clit, knowing exactly what I needed.

“Yes.” I panted as the combination of his hard thrusts and steady hand sent my head into a dizzying pool of water, “God, yes. I–”

I think I screamed as I came, his fingers working deftly whilst mine clung to the headboard, body trembling as I fought to keep myself up. But Matty was there, holding me long enough so that he could reach his high and pull out with a loud grunt, coating my inner thighs. 

We stayed there for, I don’t know how long, until he finally released me, falling away whilst I slumped forward onto the pillows before us. He followed a second later, still catching his breath as he stared up at the ceiling. I watched him, eyes hidden behind my forearm and a sprawl of hair that had fallen over my face, content to soak in what I could of him. What I had left.

Then Matty shifted beside me, I half expected him to get up and leave with some half-arsed excuse on the tip of his tongue, but he paused when he caught my heavy gaze. I let my eyes trail over the side of face, on the tired circles settled beneath his lash line and the slope of his nose.

He looked back towards the ceiling.

“You got your souvenir, remember?” I found myself saying, stupidly, voice just above a croaked murmur, “Don’t let me keep you.”

Quiet. And then, “Do you want me to?”

I knew what he meant, but still I asked, “Want what?”

Matty’s head slowly turned towards me, eyes guarded and peering over at my devastated form. I wondered what he made of me right then, if he thought anything at all. 

When he offered me no words, I refused to add anything either and felt what was left of my heart crumple up into a pitiful bundle when he pushed himself to the edge of a bed with a barely there sigh.

The air in my lungs caught as I watched and waited, eyes trailing after him as he rounded the bed frame to pick up his discarded boxers. I let them slip closed again, not wanting to watch him leave. 

I listened to his feet pad across the hardwood floors and out of the room. My chest ached with every step but I didn’t dare stop him, burying my face further into my pillow. 

I laid in wait for the front door to open, for there to be a clue to his evident departure, but then the footsteps returned. I didn’t dare give myself false hope, knowing he must have forgotten something to have come back. But the padding continued, closer and closer until they were back by the bed and I held my breath as it creaked, my eyes stinging just as I felt a warm damp cloth press against my inner thighs, wiping me clean.

I choked on the sob that wanted to escape me and the cloth paused for a split second before venturing on. I waited, wondering why he was doing this, why he was dragging it out.

Just leave already.

But then the cloth was pulling away again, and the bed was creaking again, and the tears, they wouldn’t stop. 

Stay. 

Please just stay.

I gasped into the pillowcase, stomach tensing with the strength to keep quiet. To let him leave quietly. 

I wouldn’t cry.

And then there was quiet, at least for a moment or two, before the bed dipped once more and there was a hand in my hair, combing the strands from out of my face and tucking them behind my ear.

When I opened my eyes, he was still there. Dressed and ready to go, but still sitting there beside me. Whilst I laid bare, curled up into a ball to better protect myself from his knowing gaze.

Suddenly everything hurt. Suddenly I felt exhausted and was falling apart at the seams.

Matty moved carefully, stretching toward the foot of the bed before returning with the sheet to cover me up, laying it gently over my trembling shoulders. He leaned in to press a slow kiss to my forehead and then went to move away again.

My hand caught his wrist.

And then I was flat out sobbing. Hysterical even. Crying into the pillow almost soundlessly as I gasped to try and catch my breath. Because I wanted him to stay. I needed him to stay.

Not just for me. But for Teddy. And for the life he brought into my dreary flat. To the kindness he never failed to gift me.

I needed him to stay.

I needed him.

I opened my mouth to ask, to let him know. But I could hardly even bear to look at him, blurred as he was through my onslaught of tears, Matty still held the key to all but destroying what little I had left.

His hand returned to my hair, fingers tangling themselves in it, a sudden contrast to the rough grip they’d held there earlier. And then he settled further onto the bed, back pressed against the headboard whilst he continued to run his fingers through my hair.

The tears still flowed but the sobs came less and less, until I was blinking at his shadowed figure in the dark, holding out hope that somehow he’d just know and he’d stay.