#i just need to talk to her and figure it out

[mssalo]

fixation

You have an oral fixation, and Joel is more than happy to keep your mouth busy.

Warnings: MDNI, 18+, oral fixation (f!reader), oral (male receiving), finger-sucking, dirty talk, praise kink, established relationship, consensual dynamic, playful possessiveness, casual intimacy, semi-public setting, reader can’t keep her mouth off of Joel’s cock (I get it) 6k.

· · ───────────𖥸──────────· ··

It had been about 11 months since you and Joel started seeing each other, and every day with him felt like a quiet discovery, learning things about each other that made each moment feel richer.

But there was something you hadn’t quite figured out how to bring up yet—a part of you that you weren’t sure how he’d respond to. Yet, in his presence, the need always seemed to flare up, subtle but persistent, tugging at you like a habit you couldn’t quite ignore.

One evening, you were curled up together on his couch, the night warm and quiet, and you’d been a little fidgety, your mind distracted, wondering if he’d picked up on your subtle hints.

His hand rested easily on your thigh, his thumb tracing soft, absent-minded circles over your jeans, grounding you in the moment.

“Hey,” he murmured, his voice low and gentle, breaking the comfortable silence as he glanced over at you, his eyes soft but observant.

“You’ve been a little… antsy tonight.” He tilted his head, watching you carefully with that warm, reassuring smile of his. “What’s goin’ on in that pretty head of yours, huh?”

You bit your lip, your cheeks heating up as you avoided his gaze, feeling that familiar warmth creeping in, making you both nervous and a little thrilled.

His hand squeezed your thigh just slightly, his fingers gentle, urging you to look up.

“Baby,” he said, his voice a mix of patience and curiosity, “you know you can tell me anything, right? If there’s somethin’ you want, or… need?”

He trailed off, his gaze lingering on your mouth, a knowing smile beginning to form.

You swallowed, feeling the warmth in your face intensify as his words sank in, and finally, you gave him a small nod, glancing up at him shyly.

Your lips parted slightly, but the words felt stuck, tangled up in the way he was looking at you, his gaze warm and inviting.

A quiet laugh slipped past his lips as he brushed a thumb over your bottom lip, his voice dropping to that rough, soft tone that always seemed to send a shiver through you.

“Got a feeling I know what’s been on your mind,” he murmured, his hand moving up to cradle your cheek as he leaned in closer.

“You got a little fixation, don’t ya?” he whispered, his tone playful but warm, his eyes glinting with quiet confidence.

Your heart raced, and you gave a small, embarrassed nod, your gaze dropping to his chest as you felt the words tumble out in a near whisper.

“I… I just like having… something to keep me busy,” you admitted, your voice soft, almost shy.

Still brushing his thumb over your bottom lip, his eyes sparking with that familiar glint.

“Need somethin’ to keep that pretty mouth busy, huh?” he murmured, his voice soft and rough as his thumb lingered, his hand steady on your face.

“Should’ve known,” he said with a grin, his gaze dropping down to your mouth. “Come here.”

His hand moved to the back of your neck, pulling you closer with a gentle yet confident touch.

As you leaned in, you saw the soft amusement in his eyes, the way his expression held a subtle, reassuring warmth.

You parted your lips, shy but eager, letting his thumb slip between them, and he watched, his gaze intense but filled with that easy confidence that always seemed to make you feel safe with him.

"That’s it, baby," he murmured, his thumb brushing against your tongue as he watched, clearly enjoying your reaction.

"Didn’t need to be shy about it… any time you need this, you just come to me, alright?"

Your cheeks flushed, but you couldn’t help the smile tugging at your lips as his thumb brushed your lower lip, his other hand steady on your waist.

It felt like a quiet promise, a comfortable acceptance that brought you even closer, and you felt your lingering hesitation melting away as he held you there, happy to give you exactly what you’d been craving.

“I don’t mind one bit,” he whispered, his thumb still in your mouth, feeling your soft, tentative sucking as he gently pulled you closer.

Joel’s eyes softened, his voice was low, roughened with curiosity and a touch of arousement as he asked, “Is this what’s been on your mind, babygirl? Just my fingers?”

His question lingered in the air, his tone hinting at more as he kept his gaze steady on yours, letting the words sink in.

He watched the way your cheeks flushed deeper, and he let out a quiet chuckle, his thumb brushing the corner of your mouth as he murmured, “Or was it somethin’ else you were thinkin’ about?”

Your heart raced, his hint unmistakable, but there was something about the warmth in his gaze and the steady grip of his hand that put you completely at ease.

The words felt caught in your throat, but Joel waited, letting his thumb slip out of your mouth, his hand settling under your chin to lift your gaze to meet his. “I can make sure you get exactly what you need… all you have to do is ask.”

He leaned in, pressing a lingering kiss to the corner of your mouth, his hand sliding up to cradle the back of your head.

His voice softened, a quiet encouragement. “Whatever you want, I’m here, sweet bug.”

Joel’s thumb brushed over your lip again, encouraging as he kept his gaze steady, patient, letting you find the words.

Your cheeks warmed, but the way he was looking at you—reassuring, warm, without a hint of judgment—made it easier to open up.

“I just… feel calmer when I’m, you know, sucking on something,” you began, your voice quiet, a little shy.

“Something solid. It’s like… I like the weight of it in my mouth.” You paused, catching your breath, feeling a mixture of vulnerability and relief as you finally said it out loud. “I don’t know why, but it’s… comforting.”

Joel listened closely, nodding as his thumb traced a gentle line along your jaw. His smile softened, and he murmured, “I figured, pretty one… I could see it.”

He tilted his head, watching you with a look of gentle understanding that helped ease the lingering embarrassment. “Were you embarrassed to tell me?”

You hesitated, giving him a small, shy nod. He chuckled softly, a low, comforting sound that settled any lingering nerves.

“Can’t say I haven’t noticed,” he murmured, his voice low and a little rough, as he looked down at you. “The way you linger, like you can’t let go of my cock once you’ve got your mouth on it… like you’re not quite done with me.”

Your cheeks flushed, and quiet laughs slipped out of the both of you.

He tilted your chin up, his gaze softening, still playful but carrying a deeper warmth. “You like the weight of it, hm?” he asked gently, a thumb tracing the corner of your mouth. “Feels good for you, yeah?”

You gave a small, shy nod, meeting his gaze as your pulse quickened.

He leaned closer, his tone a gentle murmur as he continued, “Darlin’, anytime you need that—anytime you want me, you come to me. I’ll be more than happy to help you calm down.”

With that, he pressed a lingering kiss to your lips, his hand still cradling your face, his words sinking in as he held you there, his touch reassuring, making it clear he was there for you, always.

· · ───𖥸

It had become a quiet ritual between you and Joel ever since that night—one where he was more than happy to help you find comfort whenever you needed it.

At first, it was just his fingers. When you’d feel the day’s tension creeping up, he’d let you settle close, slipping his fingers between your lips as he watched you, warm and intent.

The gentle weight, the grounding feel of his hand against your jaw as he let you draw his fingers in, helped you feel calm in a way that words couldn’t quite reach.

Joel noticed it too, the way you’d relax under his touch, how you’d quietly seek him out and never let go until you were completely at ease.

Tonight, though, you found yourself wanting more. It had been a long and hard day, one that left you feeling edgy, and his fingers alone weren’t enough.

As you walked into the living room, you found him on the couch, relaxed with his arm draped across the back, his other hand resting on his thigh.

The sight of him there, so grounded and steady, instantly soothed something in you.

He noticed you right away, his gaze softening as you approached, catching the fidgeting in your hands.

“Hello there, pretty girl,” he greeted, his voice warm, with that touch of curiosity he always had when he knew you needed him. “Need anything?”

You didn’t say anything, instead sinking to your knees in front of him, your gaze falling to his lap before meeting his eyes again.

Joel’s brow lifted slightly, his expression soft but knowing, his lips curling into a small smile as he reached down, fingers brushing over your cheek.

“Had a rough day, huh?” he murmured, his tone low, patient as his hand moved to cradle your jaw.

His thumb traced along your bottom lip, holding you there gently, his eyes darkening with quiet understanding.

“Is this what you’ve been needing?” he asked, his voice a quiet rumble, letting his fingers linger at your lips, already familiar with the comfort it brought you.

But you shook your head slightly, looking up at him with that same shy glance, your gaze flickering down as you hesitated, unsure how to ask for what you really needed.

Joel’s gaze held steady, his thumb brushing over your lip as he read your expression, his voice dropping to a low murmur. “Or maybe… you want a little more than that?”

You felt your cheeks flush, but the look in his eyes made the words come easier. You glanced up, giving him a small nod as your hands settled on his knees, silently asking for permission, for more.

Joel’s thumb brushed over your lip, and he chuckled softly, his gaze dropping to meet yours. “Is that what you’ve been needing?” he murmured, his voice low, rich with amusement. “My cock… to make you calm?”

The words sent a thrill through you, and he watched as you nodded, barely able to meet his gaze, your cheeks warm. ”Yes... please,“ you whispered quietly.

Joel tilted his head slightly, his hand guiding your chin so you couldn’t look away.

“No need to be shy with me, darlin’,” he continued, his voice a quiet, steady invitation. “If that’s what you need, I’ll give it to you. Always.”

Joel leaned back slightly, the soft lighting casting shadows across his strong features, highlighting the rugged lines of his face and the warm, steady gleam in his dark eyes.

He watched you closely, his gaze never faltering as you settled in closer, his broad chest rising and falling in slow, measured breaths, grounding you with his steady presence.

A subtle smile played at the corner of his mouth as his hand settled over yours, guiding you with a gentle but firm touch.

His fingers brushed your jaw, coaxing you to look up at him as he murmured, “Go ahead, sweetheart… take what you need.”

Your fingers brushed over the outline of his cock, feeling him hardening beneath your touch, his quiet, restrained breaths signaling his anticipation.

His gaze darkened, his eyes holding a mix of warmth and intensity as he watched you, his lips parting slightly as you felt his cock pulse beneath your hand.

“Just like that,” he whispered, his voice deep, a touch of approval in his tone as his other hand cupped the back of your neck, his thumb brushing soft, grounding circles there.

His touch, his steady gaze, everything about him filled you with a quiet confidence as he murmured, “You’re doin’ perfect, darlin’… don’t stop.”

His voice, low and calming, was a quiet invitation, full of the easy confidence that you found so comforting.

“Go on, pretty girl,” he murmured, his eyes holding yours.

You tugged his jeans down just enough, freeing him from the fabric, and your breath hitched as you took him in.

His cock was thick and slightly curved, already hard and flushed with arousal, the tip a deep, needy pink that glistened faintly, inviting. Dark, neatly kept curls surrounded his base, a subtle, masculine scent rising from him, earthy and undeniably him.

His hand moved at the back of your neck, thumb grazing lightly against your skin, steadying you as you leaned in.

His voice, low and gravelly, sent a shiver through you as he murmured, “My sweet girl... Lookin’ so good with your mouth just inches from me. Can see you want it… don’t hold back.”

His words dripped with quiet command, tinged with that deep warmth that made you feel secure yet set your nerves alight with anticipation.

You opened your mouth, your tongue trailing along the underside of his length, savoring the salty-sweet taste of him.

The heat, the weight of his cock, filled you with a heady calm, grounding you in the sensation. Joel’s hand tightened ever so slightly on your neck, his other hand resting on his thigh, fingers curling as he watched you take him inch by inch.

“That’s my girl,” he groaned, his voice dark and warm, his eyes half-lidded as he watched you.

“Look at you, takin’ all of me like that, slow and easy. Your lips… they look so damn good wrapped around me, sweet one.” His tone was full of approval, deep and rich, letting you know how much he was enjoying this, letting you settle into the moment.

You began to move your mouth over him, letting your tongue swirl around the sensitive head, savoring every ridge and vein.

The faint sheen of your saliva coated him, catching the light, and his cock looked even more inviting, glistening and hard, throbbing slightly in response to your touch.

Joel let out a low, pleased hum, his hand stroking your cheek, encouraging you as you took him deeper.

“God, baby, good job,” he murmured, his tone thick with admiration. “So sweet and focused… like you were made for this.”

His fingers trailed through your hair, gentle but firm, guiding you without any hint of impatience. “Gettin’ every inch, nice and slow… takin’ your time just like I like.”

Your mouth tightened around him, feeling his cock twitch as you took him deeper, letting the weight of him press down on your tongue, grounding you, calming you in a way that nothing else could.

His scent, his warmth, his quiet, filthy praise—everything about this moment soothed you, made you feel safe, yet utterly alive.

“You love how it feels, yeah, baby?” Joel’s voice was a low rasp, and his words spurred you on, made you feel bolder. “The weight of me, how thick I am in that pretty mouth of yours. Tellin’ you, sweetheart… there’s nothin’ I like more than watchin’ you get lost right here.”

You could feel the pulse of his heartbeat through his cock, and it made you shiver.

His hand moved from your hair to your cheek, his thumb brushing softly over the corner of your mouth as he watched you, eyes dark, lips parted in quiet approval.

He tilted his head, studying you with that intense, appreciative gaze that always made you feel seen, adored.

“You keep that mouth workin’ as long as you need, baby,” he murmured, a faint, satisfied smile tugging at his lips. “Long as you want, it’s all yours. Just… fuck, yeah, just like that.”

The praise made you feel a rush of warmth, and you took him deeper, letting him feel your eagerness, your need.

His cock pulsed against your tongue, and you savored the feel of him as his fingers stayed steady at your neck, grounding you with his warmth and strength.

“Feelin’ better already?” he asked, his voice gentle, his tone rough with desire.

His hand traced down your jaw, thumb pressing lightly at your lip, pulling it down so he could see himself disappear into your mouth. “Look at that, darlin’... look at you, takin’ me so well. Such a good girl, lettin’ me calm you down just like this.”

You hummed softly around him, the vibration making his fingers tighten slightly on the back of your neck.

His breathing grew deeper, more ragged, but he kept his touch soft, steady, letting you take the lead, letting you have what you needed. “That’s it, baby… don’t rush, just keep me right there. Slow and steady,” he whispered, his voice low and dark, every word soothing yet making your pulse quicken.

His hand stayed firm as he leaned back slightly, allowing you to settle comfortably as you continued to savor him, tasting, exploring, letting his words and his touch fill you with warmth and calm.

Every brush of his thumb, every murmur of approval, grounded you deeper, letting you lose yourself completely in him, in the simple, comforting weight of him on your tongue, a connection that was yours and his alone.

You relaxed deeper, each slow movement of your mouth deliberate, savoring the weight of him, the feel of his thick, flushed cock filling you, grounding you.

Joel’s hand stayed steady at the back of your neck, fingers pressing just enough to let you know he was there, a solid presence holding you close.

“Babygirl, look at you,” he murmured, his voice a husky rasp that made your pulse quicken, each filthy word dripping with pride.

“My perfect little thing, workin’ so hard… always giving it your all. Just needed somethin’ to fill that pretty mouth, didn’t ya?”

His fingers tangled in your hair, a gentle but possessive touch that sent a thrill through you. “That’s what I’m here for, baby. You look so damn good like this, takin’ me slow.”

Your cheeks flushed, feeling yourself sink into his words, every filthy murmur making you crave more, making you want to show him just how much you needed this.

You let your tongue swirl around the head of his cock, tasting him, savoring the salty heat, feeling him twitch under your attention.

He let out a low groan, his other hand moving to cradle your jaw, his thumb brushing over your cheek as he watched you, dark eyes heavy with desire.

“God, baby, you’re too good at this,” he muttered, voice dipping lower, dripping with arousal.

“So focused, takin’ me so good, like you were made for it. Seein’ those lips stretchin’ around me, so damn eager. Look at you… got me hard as a rock, and you’re takin’ your time, just workin’ every inch.”

His hips shifted, barely a nudge forward, just enough to let you feel his need, but he held back, letting you control the pace.

“Bet you’d stay right here all night if possible,” he chuckled, the sound rich and dirty. “You’d just keep suckin’, hm? Letting that pretty mouth of yours get all messy for me.”

You felt his cock pulse, a heavy, throbbing weight on your tongue as he watched you, his breathing roughening as he sank further into the sensation.

His grip on your neck tightened just slightly, his control slipping as he saw how lost you were, how you kept at it with such gentle, focused attention.

“Love how you’re suckin’ my cock for me, baby… so fuckin’ devoted. Just lettin’ me fill that mouth, takin’ me all the way. It’s like you can’t get enough, huh? Just keepin’ me right there, like you’d never let go.”

His breathing grew heavier, more ragged, and he bit his lip, feeling his own need taking over as he tried to hold back, not wanting to pull you from the calm, submissive state you’d found.

But with each slow, wet stroke of your mouth, each deliberate pull of your lips around him, he felt himself teetering closer to the edge, and a quiet, breathless laugh escaped him as he leaned down, his hand cradling your face.

“Baby, I’m sorry,” he murmured, voice thick with both regret and need, “but you’re too damn good… I can’t hold back any longer. I’m gonna cum.”

His thumb pressed against your cheek, feeling the fullness of his cock in your mouth as he whispered, “Hate to take this from you, but I want you to swallow every drop, every bit of me… you’ve earned it, good job.”

He let out a deep, guttural groan as he came, his cock twitching in slow, heavy pulses against your tongue, spilling into your mouth as he held you close, his grip tightening just enough to anchor you, keep you steady as he filled you.

His other hand brushed over your cheek, thumb stroking the corner of your mouth, watching with dark, hooded eyes as you swallowed everything he gave, his voice dropping to a low, possessive murmur.

“God, look at you, darlin’… swallowin’ every fuckin’ drop like the good girl you are. So perfect, so fuckin’ perfect. Just lettin’ me use that sweet mouth, keepin’ me close.” His thumb lingered at your lips, his voice warm, affectionate as he whispered, “You’re exactly where you belong, sweetheart… right here, with me.”

He stayed there, holding you, his voice softening as he praised you, his thumb tracing gentle circles over your cheek, grounding you as you both came down, feeling safe, cherished, and completely at peace in the warmth of his touch.

As you eased back, Joel’s hand remained at the back of your neck, his thumb brushing gentle, soothing circles, and he looked down, a soft smile tugging at his lips as he took in the calm, relaxed look on your face.

You were utterly at peace, your eyes heavy-lidded, a faint, satisfied smile on your lips as you looked up at him, the tension you’d been carrying all day melting away.

“Good girl,” he murmured, voice rich with warmth and pride, his hand steady as he helped you rise.

“My perfect girl, you did so well,” he whispered, pulling you up to settle you against his chest, cradling you close as his hands drifted to rub soft circles on your back.

He could feel how completely at ease you were, the deep calm radiating off you as you leaned into him, feeling safe, cherished, like you’d found exactly what you needed.

You let out a quiet, sleepy murmur, snuggling into his warmth, your cheek resting against his shoulder as you wrapped your arms around him.

“Thank you,” you whispered, your voice soft and full of gratitude, the words barely audible as you let yourself sink into his embrace.

Joel’s chest rumbled with a low chuckle as he held you, one hand moving up to brush through your hair, his fingers gentle, comforting.

“That’s it, darlin’,” he murmured, his voice low and soothing.

“So calm now… my sweet girl, lettin’ herself relax.” He could see the sleepiness in your eyes, the way your breathing had slowed, your body completely soft in his arms.

He tucked you closer, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head, his hand never stopping its gentle, grounding strokes along your back.

“You can rest now, baby,” he whispered, his tone full of care as he continued to hold you, letting you know he was right there. “You’re safe with me… just close those eyes. I’ve got you.”

You melted further against him, your body fully relaxed, your breathing deep and even, your face tucked against his neck, perfectly content and utterly calm in his embrace.

He felt you drift closer to sleep, your soft breaths warm against his skin, and he tightened his hold, letting you find that final bit of peace, held close and cherished in his arms, exactly where you belonged.

· · ───𖥸

Over time, it became second nature, a quiet ritual between you and Joel.

The comfort you found in each other had only deepened, making those moments when you had him in your mouth feel easy, almost instinctual.

There were mornings when he'd sit on the edge of the bed, tousled hair and a sleepy smirk, and you’d settle between his thighs, taking him slowly as the sun crept through the blinds, warming the room as he murmured sleepy praise, his hand steady in your hair.

Or lazy afternoons, when you'd both wind down on the couch, and he'd reach over, resting a comforting hand on your shoulder, just to let you know he was there, that he understood what you needed.

Sometimes, even in the middle of the night, he'd feel you shift closer, your warm breath against his skin, and he’d know exactly what you needed without a single word exchanged.

He’d guide you under the sheets, his voice a low, sleepy rumble as he whispered, “Go on, darlin’, take what you need,” his tone gentle, reassuring as he let you lose yourself, knowing how much it helped you relax, how much you needed him in those quiet hours.

And then, there were moments just like now—calm and casual, like you were simply sharing another part of your day together.

Joel stood at the stove, his back turned slightly as he tended to a simmering pan, cooking up something simple for dinner before a friend came over.

His shoulders were broad and relaxed, his stance easy, completely at home in his space.

You were on your knees - his hard cock in your mouth, your lips wrapped around him, taking him slowly, almost like an afterthought, as if this were as natural as holding his hand or sharing a quiet drink together.

The kitchen filled with familiar sounds—the soft sizzle of the pan, the clink of the spatula, Joel’s steady breaths mingling with yours.

His free hand occasionally drifted to your hair, brushing over it with gentle fingers, not guiding but simply acknowledging you there.

Every now and then, his hand would graze over your cheek, tracing a soft line along your jaw as he continued to stir the food, keeping his focus on both you and the task in front of him with that calm confidence that made you feel secure.

He glanced down at you with a smirk, his eyes warm with that casual affection, the amusement clear on his face as he took in the sight of you.

“Look at you, baby,” he murmured, his voice low and playful.

“Can’t keep away, even while I’m tryin’ to get dinner on the stove.” He chuckled, running a thumb along your jawline, his tone casual and amused. “But hell, can’t say I mind one bit.”

His hand returned to the pan, stirring with a practiced ease, completely unfazed as you continued to take him deeper, your lips sliding over his length with a slow, familiar rhythm that felt grounding, comforting.

You could feel his cock twitch in your mouth, but his breath remained steady, his voice calm as he casually carried on.

He kept stirring the pan, flipping the food, but you noticed how his fingers tightened on the spatula, his calm demeanor wavering ever so slightly as his eyes lingered on you a moment longer.

His hand drifted back to your hair, gripping a little firmer this time, letting his thumb brush over your cheek as he took in the sight of you, your cheeks hollowing as you pulled him in deeper.

“That’s it… good girl,” he whispered, his voice dipping lower, rougher.

“Always so eager to get me in that pretty mouth of yours, no matter what we’re doin’. you just can’t get enough.”

He chuckled, shaking his head in admiration as he went back to the stove, still casual, as if it were perfectly natural for you to be on your knees, sucking him off while he cooked.

You felt your own excitement building, a warmth settling over you as his words sank in, his easy praise making you feel cherished and bold.

As Joel continued cooking, your pace grew a little faster, your mouth working over him with that same familiar, comforting rhythm, but now you could feel his cock twitching, thick and heavy against your tongue.

He glanced down with a small smirk, clearly enjoying the way you seemed to lose yourself, the casual intimacy of it making him feel grounded, completely at ease.

Just then, the doorbell rang, echoing through the quiet kitchen.

Joel paused, casting a quick glance at the door before looking down at you with that calm, teasing expression, his fingers stroking through your hair.

“Well, guess Paul’s here,” he murmured, his voice low and amused, as if the idea of his friend arriving right now only added to his pleasure. “Mind hurryin’ it up, darlin’?”

You looked up at him, eyes wide, cheeks flushed, feeling a surge of need as his gaze held steady on yours.

The doorbell rang again, and you gripped his thighs tighter, pressing in, whispering in a low, urgent tone, “Please, baby… fuck my mouth. I need you to cum. right now.”

A low groan escaped him, his amusement giving way to a darker need as he held your head in place, his fingers tightening in your hair.

“Well, since you’re askin’ so nice, baby,” he murmured, his tone dropping, filled with pride and pleasure as he looked down at you. “Guess I can’t keep you waiting, can I?”

With a steady hand, he guided your head, his hips beginning to rock gently, then harder, each slow thrust filling your mouth with a deep, satisfying pressure that made you feel grounded, completely in tune with him.

His hips rocked forward, his hand guiding your head to take him as deep as possible, his voice breaking into low, filthy groans.

“That’s it… just like that. God, you’re a perfect little thing… lettin’ me use you, lettin’ me fill that pretty mouth like you’re starvin’ for it.”

His breaths grew more ragged, his cock pulsing with each movement as he picked up the pace, letting himself go, his fingers digging into your hair as he held you steady.

“Just like that,” he groaned, his voice thick with need, his thrusts becoming faster, deeper. “You want my cum, don’t you, sweetheart? Just need to feel me fillin’ that pretty mouth of yours.”

You hummed in response, the vibration making him gasp, his cock throbbing. Joel’s breaths grew heavy, his control slipping, and you could feel him getting closer, his words now a strained murmur.

“Almost there, sweetheart… just a bit more. Need you to swallow every bit for me.”

With one final thrust, he let go, his cock pulsing as he spilled into your mouth, warm and thick, his groans deep and satisfied as he watched you take everything he gave.

His thumb brushed over your jaw as you swallowed, his gaze filled with a mix of pride and possessiveness. “That’s my good girl,” he whispered, his voice rough as he held you close.

Just as you both caught your breath, the doorbell rang again. Joel smirked, helping you up and wiping the corner of your mouth with his thumb before pulling you into a quick, reassuring kiss.

He glanced at the door, chuckling. “Better let Paul in. Don’t want him thinkin’ we forgot about him.”

He straightened up, a satisfied smirk tugging at his lips as he went back to the stove, leaving you flushed, fulfilled, and feeling like you were exactly where you needed to be.

You straightened up, catching your reflection in the hallway mirror and smoothing your hair, feeling both satisfied and a little flushed.

You opened the door to see Paul standing there

“Hey, Paul,” you greeted, trying to keep your tone light and casual, though you could feel Joel’s gaze burning into you from behind, clearly amused.

Paul stepped inside, glancing between the two of you with a smile. “Took you both long enough—I almost left again.”

Joel strolled over, leaning casually with that familiar smirk tugging at his lips. “Well,” he drawled, his eyes glinting as they met yours, “guess I finished up just in time.”

Your cheeks flushed as Joel’s smirk lingered, a private joke hanging thick in the air, while Paul remained blissfully oblivious.

· · ───────────𖥸──────────· ··

I really liked this…. a bit too much. 🫎

Just a little reminder that your comments, and reposts with reactions, mean the world to me. They’re the only “thank you” I get for these stories, and truly the reason I stay motivated to keep writing and sharing.

Knowing you’re enjoying the journey and hearing your thoughts keeps this all alive.

So please, keep those comments and reposts coming—they’re what make it all worth it. Thank you so much for being here and for all your support!!!! 🗣️🗣️🗣️😭😭😭‼️‼️

[aakeysmash]

maybes and sunscreen

college!sukuna masterlist

after almost a year of living together, you and college!sukuna are so accustomed to one another that you naturally slip up in the other’s conversations. maybe it's because you're both homebodies, or maybe it's because you've reached the silent agreement to keep the activities you do with yuuji hidden to preserve his innocent childhood (you learned that rumors run a long way inside your campus), or maybe it's because you started to ask sukuna less private questions, since he now seems to want to answer them even before you formulate them.

either way, the two of you always mention the other in conversations, and you don't even seem to notice, but your friends do.

"how about your house, man?" suguru asks sukuna from across the table, sipping his soda. they're sitting outside with satoru for lunch break, slouching on white plastic chairs, waiting for practice to start in less than ten minutes. days are getting longer the more summer break gets nearer, and the breeze flowing through the newly green leaves of the trees is a nice change from the humid stench of the locker rooms.

"dunno. the woman of the house is gonna bake cookies today," he shrugs, scrolling through his phone. he finds himself on a blurry zoomed in photo of a kitten covered in milk, and he smirks, hitting send after having selected your contact. you're going to love it.

"and?" geto asks, confused.

"and i don't know if she wants me to help her or not," sukuna continues, not bothering to look up from his screen, acting like he's not going to pester you until you let him help. and steal some of your cookie batter, too.

"it's the finale, bro, we've been talking about it since december. are you really not going to watch it for some cookies?" his raven haired friend exclaims, baffled. satoru only lowers his glasses on his nose, crossing his arms on his chest.

"oh, i'm going to watch it. got her hooked up on it too," the pink haired man says, a certain tilt to his voice matching the tilt of his head, as if he's saying are you crazy? i'm not missing it. "i don't know if she'd want you there, though."

geto rolls his eyes and satoru snickers, shaking his head. "we just want to watch the game on your tv. are you afraid she's going to feel uncomfortable with us there, my lord captain?" he mocks, sighing. lazily, sukuna glances his way.

"it's not her i'm worried about," he says, raising one of his eyebrows, maroon eyes squinting on a spot behind his friend's back.

"what does that even mean?" mutters geto, even more confused. it’s not like they’ve never seen you or have never been inside your house when you were there, so what’s different this time?

suddenly, sukuna grins like a madman, uncrossing his legs from on top of the table and standing up with his helmet under his arm.

“where are you goi-“ his dark haired friend starts, but satoru puts one of his hands on the other’s shoulder, effectively stopping him, whispering just wait.

sukuna takes a couple of steps, getting out of the gentle shadows of the trees above the table, still grinning.

“hi, baby. did you miss me so much you had to come to see me at practice?” he asks your nearing figure. you’re wearing a dress, the breeze soothingly flowing through your hair, and he takes a second to admire how graceful you look in the middle of the green garden. are the flowers you picked with yuuji the other day still fresh? maybe he should get more. maybe you’d like that. maybe you’d smile. maybe you'd thank him.

“i’m here because i knew you were never going to bring sunscreen with you, dickhead,” you huff, blowing your hair out of your vision, frowning. his grin only grows before he forces it away. typical.

“i don’t need that shit,” he rolls his eyes, turning on his heels and going towards the stadium. he knows you’re going to follow him. and you do.

“put it on! i’m not joking, sukuna,” you whine, trying to fall in step with him. “it’s going to be so good for your skin, come on.”

“it’s sticky and i don’t like feeling like a pussy,” he growls, going faster toward the benches inside the stadium and plopping down on them.

“you like pussy, though,” you shrug, forcing yourself between his parted legs, rummaging through your bag.

“i like you too, baby, but that doesn’t mean you’ll let me stick it in your pussy, does it,” he asks you smugly. you punch him on the shoulder, bewildered.

“you’re so disgusting,” you scoff, opening the little spf tube you brought in your purse just for him. "and don't tell me you like me when you never listen to me in the first place," you playfully add, caressing his face to smooth it out, and he lets you get his unruly hair off of his forehead. maybe he likes how you don't take the things he says to heart. maybe he just says them because he knows he's getting a snarky comment back.

“you didn’t say no, though,” he chuckles, closing his eyes and letting himself bask in your presence. your touch on his features is relaxing. he honestly thinks he could fall asleep if you were in any other setting.

“i’m letting you talk just because i’m in a male dominated field and even if i don’t agree i don’t want to die,” you deadpan. you smear the white cream on his nose, on top of the horizontal tattoo, and massage it into his skin. then you do the same thing with his other markings, making sure they’re protected enough to shimmer in the blazing hot sun.

“i wouldn’t let you die on me anyway,” he mutters. he gets both of his hands on your exposed thighs, keeping you closer, softly rubbing his thumbs in your muscles. "are you fucking finished? i hate this," he bites, frowning. you hum, lazily smiling down at him, rubbing his frown away with your fingertips.

"you're going to be the prettiest girl on the field," you coo. you can feel his mean glare from beneath his eyelids, and you almost shiver. "you're so going to thank me in a couple of years," you add, resting your palms on his cheeks and turning his head up. he opens his eyes slowly, staring into yours intently. his thumb catches on the fluttering hem of you dress while he draws little circles on your legs. he hears his coach screaming for his team to start running, but in this moment, he doesn't care that much. maybe the heat is getting to his head. maybe the soft smile you're looking at him with is making him a little bit weak in the knees.

"wanna make cookies today? we can watch the match together, perhaps ask the brat if he wants to join too," he says, rough voice kept low, almost as if this was a you and him kind of thing. maybe he already planned to ask you to do something with him when he was talking to his friends just a couple of minutes ago. maybe he lied, telling them you were the one who chose to do something, when it's not true. maybe the way satoru is patting suguru on the back with an "i told you so" look on his face isn't casual. maybe the one he was worried about all along was himself.

"wouldn't you prefer to watch it with your friends?" you ask him, tilting your head, positioning your thumbs on the fake tattoos on his cheekbones. almost as if you could cover their pupils and make him see less.

"wouldn't you prefer to watch it with me?" he genuinely responds, a somber look on his features. you think it's the first time he doesn't have a mocking grin on his lips. you ruffle the pink hair just above his left ear.

"maybe."

[mywritersmind]

TWENTY FINE - LN4

summary : Throwing your best friend a birthday party is easy. Trying to figure out if he’s joking about kissing you is the hard part. Two best friends and a moonlit roof.

listen up : kissing! swearing! happy birthday lando norris!! 25!

word count : 1976

⋆｡‧˚⋆

Lights flashing, music blasting, people jumping. It's everything that surrounds me while I grab my third drink of the night from the bar. A body slides up next to me and I know who it is immediately.

He smells like alcohol and the cologne I bought for him last year. “Birthday boy.” I smile softly as he grins at me. “You look happy.”

“How could I not be? My best friend organized the best party ever just for me. I’m feeling special.” He’s radiating good energy. He looks sickeningly good. In black slacks and a shirt to match, it’s unbuttoned low enough so I can see his 4 necklace hitting his chest.

“Well, you’re twenty fine!” I laugh at my own joke as Lando cringes, “I’m glad you’re happy though.” The bartender hands me my drink which I bring to my lips instantly. He's being extra nice to me because I organized the party and made sure it’s only people we know and like.

He rests his hand on my arm as a girl calls his name, he glances back then meets my eyes again, “I seriously don’t deserve you.” Lando brings his lips to my cheek quickly, winking and hurrying off to people who chant his name.

I laugh, making my way over to my friends. Max eyes me, “You’re seriously beating me out of number one best friend spot.”

“Good! I deserve it more.” He shakes his head, his curls moving with him.

“Not fair! Lando likes your face more.” I roll my eyes and take another drink, turning to Carlos who’s with his girlfriend Rebecca.

“Can I steal your girlfriend away?” Carlos frowns as Rebecca sits up, “That actually wasn’t a question!” I take her hand and we run into the crowd.

Everyone’s sweaty and drunk and laughing. I hold onto Rebecca’s hand and jump under the lights. My hair is messy and in my face, my skirt riding up and I couldn’t be happier.

Some of our friends join us, hugging and waving at people as I grin. My drink is empty in my hand and I lose it when a guy comes up next to me. He’s one of Lando’s friends, hot and tall with shaggy hair.

I catch Lando in the crowd right as his friends puts his hand on my waist, whispering in my ear in an attempt to be seductive.

He’s laughing with Max and a girl I don’t know. She’s holding Lando’s hand but I can tell he’s trying to shake her off when he moves to push back his hair with his occupied hand.

He gives in eventually, dancing with her far too close for my eyes. I turn back to the guy and focus on him.

He grabs my ass as I move my hands to his shoulders, “You’re Y/n, right?” I nod, leaning my head back and feeling the music. “I’ve heard a lot about you!” I wish he would stop talking to me.

“That’s nice!” Is all I can say.

“Lando talks you up, I just had to see if you’re really that great!” I nod slowly and back away to my friends. Mentioning my best friend while feeling me up is not the way to get in my pants.

“Y/n!” Lily, Alex Albons girlfriend grins at me. Every annoyance in my face disappears as I hug her.

“Lily!” We melt into a mix of talking, screaming the lyrics, and dancing.

“Where’s Lando!?” She yells over the music as I shrug.

“Off with some girl!”

She gives me a look. It’s weird and almost surprised, She sips her drink and nods drunkenly, “You need a boyfriend!” When she gets pulled away by her boyfriend, I slip out of the crowd.

I know my way around the place, there’s three levels and they’re all completely filled. When I step up to the third, I can see Lando at the DJ booth, a huge smile on his face.

I close the door behind me, the music muffling as I walk up the staircase. It’s creepy and dark but as soon as I step onto the roof, the cool air hitting me, I take a deep breath and smile.

I love parties, I wouldn’t be so close with Lando if I didn’t. But I need air far more often than him. I step to the edge, leaning on the barrier and looking out at the city.

People are walking the streets still, some dancing and some arguing. They look like ants. My eyes catch on a tiny couples, they’re holding hands and skipping down the street.

I rest my chin on my hand, looking up at the stars. I wonder if any of the stars are looking down at me and thinking I look like an ant.

I’m so absorbed in the sky that I jump when the door to the starecase opens. When I turn, I see Lando.

His hands are in his pockets as he walks up to me, “You okay?”

“Yeah! Just wanted some air…” I turn to him, the concrete rubbing against my exposed back, “Why are you up here?”

“Looking for you. Had a feeling you’d be looking at the stars.” He's teasing but I know he’s 100% serious. He rests his forearms on the parapet and looks out at the city.

I outline his profile in my mind, his freckles and hair looking extra nice under the moonlight. His eyes closes, dark green disappearing under unfairly thick lashes.

“Enjoying the party?” I ask quieter than I meant.

He turns to me, looking at me like no one else has. “I’d be enjoying it more if you would stay with me.” I may have been avoiding him a tiny bit, but I wanted him to be catching up with his other friends.

“You seemed like you were enjoying that girl's presence more than mine.” I’m lying and he knows it.

Lando turns to me, narrowing his eyes, “Untrue.” He looks at me for a second, his eyes flicking down to my body. If it were anyone else, I would think they were just looking at my outfit. Unfortunately, I know Lando better than that. “You look good.”

“Well this party is star studded…” I joke, “Had to look my best to compete.” I run my hand through my hair, my rings tugging on it.

He shakes his head, not joking with me, “They can’t compete with you in pajamas, love.” Still, a serious little smile tugs at his lips. This is what he does.

He drops something like that then goes and makes out with a girl opposite of me. But I’ve done the same so I can’t say anything. It’s just how our friendship works.

“Someone’s been taking advantage of the bar.”

“I've had two drinks.” Is all he says. I know he’s serious, too. “I wanted to say thank you- though. That’s why I came up here.”

I smile softly, tilting my head at him, “You’ve said thank you.”

“I mean thank you for everything.” His hands fidget in front of him, “For being there.”

He’s being extra sincere. “You’re welcome. And this is your present so don’t go asking for more-” He gets a big closer, laughing.

“Just one more thing?” He says in a sort of begging tone.

I raise a brow, our arms touching now, “What could you, Mr rich birthday boy, want?”

He bites his lip, then lets it go. The look he gives me is… magnetic. “A birthday kiss.”

It surprises me and for the first time in a while, I don’t know if he’s joking. “I’m sure you could get that from many others.”

“You don’t want to kiss me?” His hand goes to my waist, not touching my skin, but tugging at the fabric of my skirt.

I breathe in, scanning his face for any hint of humor. “I didn’t say that.” I know I made the right move when the corner of his mouth tugs upwards.

“So say you want to.” His voice is soft, that accent I’ve listened to for years soothing my beating heart.

I furrow my brows together, “You’re gonna make me beg for your birthday present?” There’s a tiny shadow on his face from the moonlight and his curls.

“It’s called consent, love.”

I take a big step, resting my arm on his shoulder so he gets closer, “Happy birthday, Lando.” I don’t think he’s going to do it at first, but then he leans in.

He hesitates, looking at my lips and eyes to make sure. But then he closes the gap and I wonder why I would ever say yes to this.

I think I'm out of my mind but who cares about that because Lando’s lips are on mine and I'm melting into him. He’s soft, pressing a gentle kiss onto my lips. Lando pulls back by an inch, he looks into my eyes. They're so green, my favorite color.

I can’t breathe. I can’t breathe and I'm pulling him back in, crushing his lips back onto mine. His hold on my hips gets tighter and my other arm wraps around his neck. His tongue goes into my mouth and suddenly I can’t understand why we haven’t done this before.

Kissing Lando is everything. My mind has come up with a hundred ways this would happen, I knew I shouldn’t think about it but I can’t help my dreams.

He feels hot against me. Hungry and needy for me.

He pulls me tighter against him, like he physically needs to be closer. It’s everything I've ever wanted and everything I’ve dreaded.

The moment someone steps out onto the roof, loudly stomping and singing, I pull away and look back over at the city.

It looks new… somehow.

I don’t look back at the guy, but Lando clears his throat and the man starts talking, “Oh shit! Sorry!” and the door closes, leaving us again in silence.

My heart is pounding so hard that I barely hear Lando mumble, “Dickhead.”

I smile slightly at this, dropping my head down so my hair falls in my face. What the fuck did I just do?

“I’m going to ask for one more thing.” Lando says, “Please don’t get mad.”

I push my hair behind my ear and listen to him.

“Can I take you out?” What the hell. “On an actual date. Not for a present or because I want you to. Because you want to.”

“Lando-”

“We’re not ruining anything.” He knows what I was going to say already. “I want to take you out on a date because I like you.”

I feel like I'm dreaming. This doesn’t feel possible. “Okay.”

“And you can’t say no just because you’re nervous because i’m nervous too and basically shitting myself just asking- wait. Okay!?”

I smile softly, nodding, “I guess I'll let you pay for a fancy dinner.”

He shakes his head, a huge smile appearing on his face, “We are not going to dinner! Do you even know me?” his hand goes to mine, lingering.

“I don’t want to fuck this up, Lando.” I say it because he’s right, I am scared.

He shakes his head, “I’m twenty fine… Nothing gets messed up anymore! Especially with you. Nothing is ever wrong with you.”

I sigh as he slips his hand to my cheek, moving his thumb softly against my skin. He cups my jaw and kisses me again. “I like kissing you.”

It feels right all over again, and I can’t help but smile at the idea that I’ll be doing this over and over again.

“Smiley.” He says against my lips.

Lando barely lets me get my words in, lost in lust and smiles, “I like you too, Norris. A lot.” He kisses me harder.

[impactrueno]

Beetlejuice clearly wasn't interested in Lydia when they met, so when do you think he actually fell for her? Was he so impressed by Lydia defeating him that he developed a little crush?

i think this might be the biggest thing i've been turning around in my head since the sequel dropped. how did bro get to this point. i need to know. you weren't like this where we left off, what happened during that huge time gap????

this is where canon ends and conjecture begins, you just have to theorize and fill in the gaps yourself with whatever makes the most sense to you, which is what i've been trying to do this whole time. so please bear with me here.

i don't know how much i want share or save for my comics because i don't know how much he would actually reveal about this but whatever we ball

edit: ok so i scrolled back up to this after finishing writing this and as it turns out i have no self control and i ended up sharing everything that crossed my mind. craziest stream of consciousness i've ever written down. strap on and keep your limbs inside the ride at all times. whatever. we BALL.

let's review their first encounter from his point of view:

you're hired to scare the deetzes, right? so you do just that. excellently you might add. just when you're about to terrorize their teenage daughter, barbara banishes you and the party is over. what fucking losers right? you get the sense that adam and barbara care about this girl so you make some remark about her and it pisses them off. haha. also whoa where did this place come from? damn adam, who could've guessed he had it in him. you forget about everything else and dance your way to dante's inferno room.

after spending a respectably tasteful evening with those ladies, you're chill now. relaxing under your little sun lamp to work on your tan.

someone walks in looking for adam and barbara. don't they know they're dead?

"are you a ghost too?"

"i'm the ghost with the most, babe."

hold on a sec, who's even—

...well hey. it's the girl.

the girl who can see ghosts, and she's talking to you.

target acquired. this one's your ticket out of this hellhole.

"you look like somebody i can relate to," you tell her. relate how? doesn't matter. you're ensnaring her with your affable demeanor like you always do, make people feel like you're pals with them first and foremost. she seems like a nice girl, so this should be easy. you tell her upfront that you want to get out of there and you need her help to do so.

"i want to get in," she says.

whoa there.

what? she wants to get in? she says that in response to you saying that you wanted out. she really has no idea what it's like on the other side, huh. but shit, that kinda stops you in your tracks a bit. this girl wants to die. this young? that's not right. makes no sense.

"...why?"

she just looks at you and says nothing. jesus. ok maybe it's none of your business so let's back it up. you're losing control of the conversation and you're on a mission here. you figure if she helps you get out, you might as well talk her off that ledge or show her how shitty it is on the other side or somethin'. frankly, you can't afford to care right now. you're not entirely sure why she thinks things would be better on the side you're so desperate to get out of, but alright. doesn't matter, right now you gotta get her to summon you. so you begin your little game of charades.

after she correctly guesses your name and almost says it a third time, she recognizes you as the snake that terrorized her family. god fucking dammit. you're losing her. you're getting impatient. your affable act is over. "nah...i want to talk to barbara," she says and now she's REALLY getting on your nerves because fuck barbara, fuck adam, you're SO CLOSE to getting out and you're not gonna let this go now, go go GO GO SAY IIIIIIITTTTTTT

adam and barbara walk in because of course they do. womp womp

ok well that didn't work, but you're not gonna give up so easily. sooner or later another opportunity will come and soon you will be free.

wait why are they moving the model— where are they taking it—

ooohhhhh. business meeting. get a load of these yuppies, trying to turn winter river into a town-sized Ripley's Believe it or Not. a talking marcel marceau statue? and you thought you were a con man. no wonder the deetz girl wants to die, it's bleak as hell here too. but if you get out...you can fix that. hell, you can fix anything.

these bozos are here to see some ghosts, but the girl says they're not going to show up unless the fleshbags stop making a mockery out of the whole thing and that maybe they can all live happy together in the house. ain't that sweet.

of course no one's taking her seriously. she's a kid, what does she know, right? they'd rather listen to the most obnoxious guy in the room (besides yourself) who has no idea what the fuck he's talking about, but somehow, he's got his hands on the handbook.

the girl panics, then immediately says completely deadpan "wait, what am i even worried about, otho, you can't even change a tire" and you're surprised they didn't hear how hard you cackled at that.

despite all that, they seem to have started a séance with their old wedding clothes. bad news for the maitlands. they're about to be dead-dead. the girl cries for them to stop, and these guys are just sitting there scared shitless. you're hearing everything. you knew a new opportunity would arise, so you wait, because this is the part where people remember how good at your job you are. they always do.

she knows you can help. you're the only one who can help. so here she comes. those wedding clothes give you an idea. plan B is now in motion.

well well well.

look who came crawling back.

she asks for your help, and you're happy to oblige, under one condition of course. after all, you don't do anything for free, and she's the only one who can help you with your problem. how serendipitous.

once again, you lay it on her, straight up. you want out. and a way to do it (thanks adam and barbara for the reminder) is through marriage with a fleshbag. you need to get married. a green card marriage, if you will.

she's immediately disgusted by the idea. you don't take that personally, of course, because it doesn't matter. she's just a kid and it's not a real marriage. she just happens to be unlucky enough to be the only one around who can assist you with this, the poor girl. it's a marriage of convenience—or rather, inconvenience—and you're not planning on sticking around because you will get the hell out of there as soon as you can. so there shouldn't be a problem, right? besides, does she know how many women would kill to be in that position? she gets to brag about it to her friends, what's not to like? it's a totally even deal.

the clock is ticking and the maitlands aren't getting any younger. she agrees to the deal. you win, at last.

she already knows what to do, so you sit there patiently with a shit-eating grin on your face, awaiting the three little B words. gloating.

Beetlejuice........Beetlejuice...........Beetlejuice.

it's showtime.

this is your favorite part. you love a dramatic entrance. you decide to show the deetzes and their greedy friends the circus they so wanted to turn this town into. horrible as you are, you're also pretty damn good at calling out other people's horribleness, and you do love an ironic karmic way of dealing with someone. for example tubby here thinks he can escape, but not before you change his sleek black suit into a tacky white leisure suit. the horror! this is why you're a professional at this.

you effortlessly end the exorcism and the maitlands are saved. a little pruney right now but they'll be fine. everything is taken care of, you have fulfilled your end of the deal like you promised. only one thing left to do.

"shall we?"

there's really no need to make a whole show out of this, but you're a showman first and foremost and as a 𝒥𝓊𝒾𝓁𝓁𝒾𝒶𝓇𝒹 𝒶𝓁𝓊𝓂 you'll be damned if you're not gonna let yourself have a little fun with this. everyone looks terrified. this is why you're a professional at this.

witnesses and reverend in place, you can finally begin the ceremony. you're having fun, yes, but let's try to pick up the pace a bit, okay? the closer you get to your goal, the more impatient you get. the girl isn't finding any of this very funny at all and she protests. the maitlands butt in and are now kind of twisting your arm a bit, but you deal with them harmlessly, until they get on your last nerve so you send adam to the model and barbara to saturn. all of this after you honorably fulfilled your end of the bargain and saved the day. jesus christ, are you the only one with some integrity around here or what.

you forget the stupid ring. shit. you're pretty sure you have it on you somewhere, ever since you chopped up delores into pieces for poisoning you. you kept her ring finger as a trophy and as a reminder to never get married again, and yet here you are, but desperate times call for desperate measures. finally, you find the ring (still on her severed finger) and hastily tell your new bride-to-be that delores meant nothing to you. in case she even cares. she doesn't seem to. not even a chuckle? oh well.

almost done with the ceremony. almost there. you're holding the girl's hand with an iron grip to keep her in place as you're about to put that ring on her finger. "i now pronounce you, man and—"

a tiny car crashes against your foot and it catches on fire. you scream. a fucking sandworm crashes into the room through the ceiling. everyone screams. you scream LOUDER.

you're sent back to the afterlife waiting room.

not your first rodeo with a sandworm, but that doesn't make the experience any less shitty. the real annoying part is being in the waiting room again. this could take ages. you're number 9,998,383,750,000 and they're serving number 3 right now. you trick the guy next to you and steal his ticket (number 4) but he's not too pleased about that, so that didn't work.

a long time sitting here it is, then.

movie ends, credits roll.

for reference, that was 1988. winona ryder was 15 when they were filming in 1987 so while lydia doesn't have a confirmed age, i think we can safely assume that she was the same age as winona at the time.

36 years later, it's 2024. or 34 years later, it's 2022. we don't know the exact year because while bob's in memoriam credits scene says 2024 and all the interviews talk about how 36 years have passed in universe as well, there's this other one tiny detail.

jeremy's death passport says he died on march 11, 1999. jane butterfield says he died "23 years ago," putting the movie in 2022. they did film it in 2022 so the math is mathing correctly there. given that the in memoriam scene was more of a joke and jeremy's passport is a canon prop in the movie, i'd say 2022 is the canon year the movie is set in. (small sidenote; the passport also has the roman numerals DCLXVI which is 666. cute detail i loved it)

in the sequel, beetlejuice says lydia has been ignoring him for 30 years. i always thought that was curious because outside of this claim, they always specify how many years exactly have passed since. he doesn't say 34 or 36, he says 30. and for his degree of obsession (and the fact that he remembers exactly how many times he's watched The Exorcist) i think he would be counting even the days so i think he did really mean 30 years. so this would mean at least 4 years passed between getting sent back to the waiting room and the beginning of his stalking.

AND NOW that we established all that, we are finally getting to the answer to the question, "when and how did this all start?"

so okay, he spent a while in the waiting room. a lot of time to think. probably replaying the events at the deetzes' in his head over and over, how he got here, where he fucked up, what's he gonna do once he gets out. cursing the maitlands for ruining his plan when he was soooo fucking close. wondering what ever happened to lydia deetz.

lydia deetz, the young girl who told him she wanted to die.

...

is she alright?

i don't think he's capable of feeling guilt, but we can probably argue that he's not entirely heartless. what she said about how she wanted to "get in" must've stuck with him from the way he reacted when she dropped that bomb. she never showed up in the waiting room so he knows she didn't follow through with that. still, he used a vulnerable young girl for his own selfish gain. ironically enough, he knows exactly how that feels, because he also got tricked into marriage and got used for someone else's gain. the difference being that he dealt with that shit with an axe.

much much much to think about for mr. juice.

after years of ruminating in that waiting room, he's finally out and back to the regular day to day afterlife. definitely gets chewed out by juno, maybe forced to do community service or labor or what have you, he basically just needs to clean up his act now. this freelancing shit is becoming more trouble than it's worth anyway.

he's still wondering about lydia deetz. should he check in on her? maybe he should, he's too curious now.

at this point, lydia is now about 19-21 and in college. maybe he manages to sneak into the model one time she's back home for the holidays or something. and oh my god would you look at that, what a beautiful young woman she's grown into. she's radiant. she's happy. she's no longer that gloomy suicidal kid he met in the attic. seems like what she said about the deetzes and the maitlands sharing the house did come true after all.

that's nice. very sweet. good to know.

maybe he wonders if she remembers him and tries to get her attention somehow, give her a little scare for old times sake or whatever. for a brief moment it seems like she saw something and her expression changes, but she shrugs it off and continues on chatting with her two sets of parents. no such luck.

oh well. curiosity sated! and beetlejuice goes back home and doesn't return.

until the next time he returns.

and he keeps coming back to check in on her, telling himself he's just making sure that she hasn't killed herself or something. and he's not above admitting that with every year that passes, she keeps getting more beautiful. and to think they almost got married, huh.

he constantly tries to get her to notice him somehow, and sometimes she almost does, but ultimately he never really succeeds beyond making her do a double take. very rarely she does catch a glimpse of him. he's seen her mutter to herself that she's just seeing things and she seems a bit frightened every time this happens, but there's nothing to fear, honey, it's just good ol' beetlejuice. he won't lie, he gets a bit of a rush every time and it makes his dead heart beat faintly. he's gotten this far, he can't just stop now. in his mind, this has become their little private game of cat and mouse, where the mouse ignores the cat. but aren't they cute? he thinks they're cute. this is not creepy at all!

before he realizes, he's already learned everything about her. he knows about richard and even watched their wedding from afar like a loser. he knows she gave birth to a healthy baby girl named astrid. he knows they have a blast on halloween. halloween is lydia's favorite holiday, and his too. sometimes he can't help but see the three of them happy together and think it could've totally been him. even if he and richard are nothing alike (in fact could not be more opposite) and the circumstances of their unholy wedding were nothing short of grim and a farce. but in his mind, he's starting to convince himself otherwise.

maybe it's his jealousy speaking, but lydia doesn't seem to be that happy with richard despite everything. even though richard is like, the perfect guy. then one day his suspicions are proven correct: neither of them knows why it happened, but after having a long and emotional talk (that he watched with a bucket of popcorn) they decide to get a divorce. he pumps his fist, feeling victorious for some reason. sure he's a little sadistic at times, but why is this giving him so much glee?

the divorce is hard on lydia's kid, who was always more attached to her father, but they still spend a lot of time together. sometimes the three of them, since richard and lydia kept things amicable after the divorce. lydia tries to move on and see other people, but each relationship fails before it even starts. mostly because she keeps holding back and so fails to connect with anyone else, but also sometimes because, well, he can't help himself but to scare them away from her from time to time. it's fun. in his mind, he's just being protective of her, as a gentleman should for a lady.

then richard dies. fell into a piranha infested river from the looks of it (he saw him at immigration one day, don't ask what he was doing around there, force of habit after constantly making sure lydia hasn't killed herself yet.) it's devastating for both lydia and astrid, straining their relationship even more for the next few years as they both try to cope with the loss. the shock proves to be too much for lydia, so she goes to a survivors retreat to work through her trauma, both from richard's death and "unresolved feelings."

then lydia, at her most vulnerable, meets rory.

beetlejuice was able to clock him immediately. a textbook manipulative opportunist, he himself knows the tactics very well. swoop in to "help" someone in a vulnerable position, pull the wool over their eyes and begin taking control so you can get what you want out of that person.

he wouldn't admit it, but this really irks beetlejuice. you know when you see someone who reminds you of the worst parts of yourself, so you despise them? yeah. he's been there, and he's also been him.

but rory is somehow even worse than beetlejuice. see, rory is her manager, and boy does he manage to get on his nerves. he takes her phone. he controls what medication she takes. he blames and guilt trips her about every mishap that HE causes, making himself look like her benevolent savior and making her feel like she would be lost without him, confusing her with his psychobabble. on top of all that, he's forcing her to do this hacky show called Ghost House where she "hunts ghosts" or whatever. the houses he's been helping newly-deads with in his day job as a bio-exorcist (now with a fleet of employees,) she's "hunting" those ghosts now. it's so dumb. it never works. beetlejuice doesn't even know what the hell she's doing, she's phoning it in most of the time and she knows she's become a sellout. what happened to that "strange and unusual" girl who stood up for her ghost friends when those suits wanted to profit off of them back in winter river?

he needs to bring that back. he's the only one who can.

in his mind, beetlejuice has already rewritten the events that transpired. in his mind, lydia has been his wife this entire time, it's just, y'know, one of those open long distance relationships and she doesn't always remember him, but that's okay. in his mind, they share a psychic bond that allows her to sense his presence or see him in her dreams from time to time. he's got nothing to be jealous about, because other men can't compare. no one else can match what they have.

sure, part of him knows he's lying to himself a little bit. but he's already clung to this idea; these past 30 years wouldn't make sense otherwise. he's in love with lydia deetz. this isn't insane of him to say at all. and if it is, well, you know what they say, love makes you do batshit crazy things.

it's not that complicated, no matter what they say you'll never meet another me it's not that difficult to get my head around i'll never meet another you

the end

don't trick me into writing a fanfic again

[rafesapologist]

if you would've been the one ─ rafe cameron (part 2)

summary: rafe gets engaged and you find out

warnings: addiction, dr*g use, angst, mentions of drinking, sad rafe, infidelity (don't cheat guys), sensual moments

author's note: i wasn't sure if i was going to write a part two, but some of you requested one so here you go <3

It has been a month since that fateful encounter with you, since he last held you while you sobbed in the middle of town. The sight of you—broken down, vulnerable, crumbling in his arms—haunts Rafe like a tortured ghost, a specter that clings to him, refusing to be exorcised. It plays on a loop in his mind, a visceral memory he can’t escape no matter how hard he tries. He remembers the way your voice cracked, the way you trembled against him, and the sound of your broken cries feels like a knife twisting in his chest, again and again.

Sofia moved in with him just a few days after that night, boxes stacked in the living room, her laughter filling the house as she unpacked their future together. On the surface, everything looked perfect. Rafe played his part well—smiling, planning the wedding, talking about the life they were going to build. He made everyone believe that his life was finally on track, that he was happy and settled. But the truth was far from the polished facade he showed to the world.

In reality, his nights had become a battleground of regrets. He would lie awake long after Sofia had drifted off to sleep, staring up at the ceiling as the images of your tear-streaked face replayed behind his eyes. The memory of your sobs haunted him, an echo that reverberated in the dark corners of his mind, refusing to be silenced. The sound of your voice—broken, raw, filled with so much hurt—was something he couldn’t shut out, no matter how tightly he closed his eyes.

While Sofia lay beside him, dreaming about their wedding, their future, and all the things he had promised her, Rafe was stuck in a different kind of dream—a waking nightmare. He relived that night over and over, his subconscious torturing him with the choices he’d made, the words he couldn’t take back. He would wake up in a cold sweat, his chest tight, the ghost of your presence lingering in the room. He could almost feel your tears soaking through his shirt again, the phantom weight of your body pressed against his as you cried out every last bit of hurt he’d caused.

It was like being trapped in a loop he couldn’t escape from, a purgatory of his own making. Every smile he gave Sofia, every kiss, felt like a betrayal—to her, to you, and to himself. He was playing the role of a man who had everything figured out, but inside, he was unraveling, piece by piece. Because he knew the truth he couldn’t admit to anyone—not even to himself. He wasn’t haunted by the life he was building with Sofia. He was haunted by the life he’d lost with you. And it was a loss that was slowly eating him alive.

Rafe picked up his old habits like an old, familiar coat—one that he’d hoped to never wear again. In the days and weeks following that night, the weight of his regret and guilt became unbearable, pressing down on him until he could hardly breathe. He tried to push it all away, to bury himself in his plans with Sofia, to drown out the echo of your words in the monotony of his new life. But it didn’t work. He couldn’t escape the sound of your broken voice, the look in your eyes as you told him how much he had destroyed you.

That was the night his sobriety came to a screeching halt.

He remembered sitting on the edge of his bed, Sofia already asleep beside him, her breathing soft and steady. He stared down at his hands, the same hands that had held you, that had pushed you away, that had made all the wrong choices. It was like he could still feel the ghost of your touch, the imprint of your fingers as you shoved him in a fit of anger. His heart felt like it was being ripped apart, and he needed something—anything—to numb the pain.

Rafe knew where to go, who to call. It was frighteningly easy to slip back into old routines, to let the darkness swallow him whole. He took his first line of coke that night, the familiar burn hitting him hard, and for a brief, fleeting moment, he felt relief. The crushing weight of his emotions lifted, replaced by a rush of artificial euphoria. It felt like he had control again, like he could breathe. But it was a lie—a dangerous, seductive lie that he willingly bought into.

The weeks that followed were a blur of late nights and reckless choices. What had started as a desperate attempt to cope quickly spiraled into something darker. His addiction came back with a vengeance, tenfold worse than before. It became a weekly ritual, then every few days, until it was nearly a daily habit. Rafe would disappear for hours, locking himself in the bathroom or sneaking off to the garage, cutting lines on the cold surface of the counter, inhaling deeply as the familiar numbness washed over him.

Sofia was oblivious. She’d look at him with concern sometimes, noticing the dark circles under his eyes, the way his hands shook ever so slightly when he thought no one was watching. But Rafe was good at hiding it. He knew how to play the part, how to keep up the facade of the doting fiancé, the man who had everything under control. He’d smile, kiss her on the forehead, tell her everything was fine. And she believed him. Why wouldn’t she? To her, he was still the man who had turned his life around, who was ready to settle down and start fresh.

But in reality, Rafe was spiraling, falling deeper into a pit of his own making. The regret of losing you, the guilt of betraying what he once felt for you, was a constant gnawing at his soul. He’d lie awake at night, staring up at the ceiling, his mind racing with all the what ifs that he couldn’t shut off. What if he had fought for you? What if he had chosen you instead? What if he had never let things fall apart?

The only thing he felt like he had control over was the drugs he was putting into his body. It was the one thing that numbed the pain, that quieted the screaming in his head, even if just for a little while. It was the only way he knew how to cope with the reality he had created, a reality where he was haunted by the ghost of you, the woman he still loved, but had pushed away.

And with every line he snorted, he knew he was digging himself deeper into a hole he might never climb out of. But the truth was, he didn’t care. Not anymore. Because in his mind, this was his punishment—his self-inflicted penance for the life he had ruined, not just yours, but his own as well.

The weekend finally arrived, and Topper’s invitation to the Pelican Yacht Club felt like an aid thrown into the raging sea Rafe had been drowning in. Topper had insisted he come out, promising a carefree day of drinks and laughter with old friends—a chance to forget about the chaos that had become his life. Rafe had been hesitant, rightfully so. The yacht club wasn’t just a place anymore; it was a scene of memories, and there was a good chance you’d be there. It was your workplace, after all, and Rafe knew that running into you could rip open wounds that were still fresh and bleeding.

But as he stood there in the mirror, staring at his own reflection, he realized he had nothing left to lose. His spiraling had already reached its peak. He was a man standing at the edge, and avoiding you now felt pointless. The drugs had dulled the pain, numbed him enough to survive each day, but they hadn’t erased the hollow ache in his chest. In his mind, he reasoned that maybe seeing you would bring him the closure he never got—an end to the nightmare he’d been living since that night he held you while you cried.

He agreed to go. He left the house with Sofia behind, her cheerful wave and bright smile not reaching him the way it once might have. She asked him if he’d be home for dinner, her voice laced with hope, as if she sensed the growing distance between them but couldn’t quite put her finger on why. He told her he’d try, planting a kiss on her forehead out of habit more than affection, and walked out the door without looking back.

The drive to the yacht club felt like an eternity. His fingers drummed nervously on the steering wheel, the weight of anticipation gnawing at him. He couldn’t tell if he was hoping to see you or praying that you wouldn’t be there. When he arrived, he took a moment to steady himself, taking a deep breath as he stepped out of the car and into the blazing afternoon sun. The humid air clung to his skin, reminding him of countless summer days spent here with his friends, with you. It felt like a different lifetime.

He spotted Topper almost immediately, surrounded by a familiar group of friends, their laughter echoing across the dock. The sight was almost comforting, a sliver of normalcy in the midst of the chaos his life had become. Rafe plastered on a smile and made his way over, clapping Topper on the back as he was handed a drink. He took a long sip, feeling the burn of the alcohol slide down his throat, and for a moment, he felt like he could pretend that everything was okay.

But it was fleeting. His eyes scanned the crowd, searching for you almost unconsciously. He told himself he wasn’t looking for you, but his heart knew better. He could feel it racing in his chest, an unsteady rhythm that only worsened when he finally caught sight of you. There you were, behind the bar, moving with a practiced grace, serving drinks and laughing at something a customer said.

You looked good. Too good. It made his stomach twist with a mix of longing and regret. He wasn’t sure what he expected—that you’d be as broken as he was, perhaps. But you looked like you were surviving, like you had picked up the pieces of your shattered heart and put them back together, even if the cracks were still visible beneath the surface.

Rafe felt a lump form in his throat as he watched you. He couldn’t take his eyes off you, despite the sinking feeling in his gut. This was it, the moment he had been dreading and anticipating all at once. He had braced himself for what might happen, but seeing you again, looking so effortlessly beautiful and so painfully out of reach, knocked the air right out of his lungs.

He turned back to his friends, forcing himself to join in their conversation, to laugh at Topper’s jokes, but his mind was somewhere else entirely. He could feel the weight of your presence across the bar like a magnetic pull he couldn’t resist. He took another long swig of his drink, hoping the alcohol would calm his nerves, but it only made him feel more on edge.

Rafe knew he had to make a choice—approach you and risk tearing open old wounds, or avoid you and leave things unresolved, the way they’d been left that night in town. He felt his heart pounding in his chest, his hands trembling slightly as he set down his empty glass. He glanced back over at you, his front faltering as he watched you laugh with a customer, the sound of your laughter piercing through the haze of noise around him.

Suddenly, the conversations around Rafe begin to fade, the laughter and chatter of his friends muffled like he’s underwater. He forces a smile, offering a half-hearted chuckle here and there, but his mind is miles away. He keeps sneaking quick glances over his shoulder, looking for you across the bar, though every look is so brief you never notice. It almost pains him, the way you seem oblivious to his presence. But he tells himself it’s busy; you’re too focused on the flow of customers to scan the room. Still, he can’t shake the sting, a dull ache in his chest that grows stronger every time he catches sight of you, the girl he let slip away.

You hadn’t noticed him yet. The thought stings more than he expected it to. How could you be so unaware of the agony ripping him apart from across the room? But he knows it isn't fair to think that. The bar is packed, filled with the usual weekend crowd; your focus is split between orders, conversations, and the rhythm of your job. It's easier this way, he tells himself. If you noticed him, it would complicate things, make the air heavy with unsaid words and unresolved feelings. Yet part of him—a selfish, desperate part—aches for you to look up, to lock eyes with him, even if only for a second. Just to see if he could read something, anything, in your gaze.

Rafe is at war with himself, stuck between the urge to keep his distance and the desperate need to get closer, to say something—anything. His fingers tap nervously against his glass, the buzz of alcohol not strong enough to drown out the whirlwind of thoughts racing through his mind.

Then one of his friends speaks up, snapping him back to the present. “We’re running low on beer, man. Someone should get another round.”

Without thinking, Rafe jumps in, his voice a little too quick, a little too eager. “I got it,” he blurts out, pushing himself up from his seat. His friends barely notice his sudden enthusiasm, already lost in their own drunken conversations. For them, it’s just Rafe doing a favor. But for him, it’s an excuse, a chance to approach the bar and maybe, just maybe, get a moment alone with you.

He moves through the crowd, weaving between bodies as he makes his way toward the bar. His heart is pounding, adrenaline coursing through his veins as if he’s about to do something reckless. In a way, he is. He hasn’t seen you up close since that night a month ago when he held you in his arms while you broke down in tears, and the memory of it still haunts him. He doesn’t know what he plans to say, or if he’ll even say anything at all. But he has to see you, has to face whatever feelings linger between you.

As he reaches the bar, he spots you right away. You’re busy, turning to grab a bottle from the shelf, your hair falling in loose waves over your shoulder. The sight of you hits him hard, a wave of emotion crashing over him so violently it nearly knocks the breath out of him. It’s like seeing you for the first time all over again, except now there’s an insurmountable distance between you that wasn’t there before.

He wipes his sweaty palms on his khaki shorts, trying to calm himself, his fingers gripping the edge of the counter like it’s the only thing keeping him grounded. When you turn around, you don’t notice him at first, focused on passing a drink to a customer. He takes a deep breath, his voice caught in his throat, but he forces the words out anyway.

“Hey, can I get a round of beers?” he asks, his voice barely louder than a whisper, but enough for you to hear.

The moment you look up to meet his gaze, it's as if time itself halts. The crowded, bustling room fades into the background, and for a fleeting heartbeat, it’s just you and him. Your eyes widen ever so slightly, a flicker of recognition passing across your face before you can mask it. It’s a split-second crack in your facade, but you quickly snap yourself back into place. The shock, the pain—it all gets shoved down as you force yourself into a state of icy calm.

You give a curt nod, your expression stone-cold, devoid of any trace of the emotions boiling beneath the surface. You glance away, reaching for a stack of glasses without missing a beat. To anyone else, it would look like he’s just another customer, another face in the sea of people.

“Gotcha,” you reply flatly, your voice monotone and unreadable, like a wall going up between you. You don’t give him the satisfaction of anything more, no warmth, no bitterness—just cold indifference. You’re determined not to let him see how much his presence unsettles you, how the mere sight of him brings back every hurtful word, every sleepless night spent crying over the pieces he left behind.

You focus on the task at hand, pulling a few cold beers from the cooler and lining them up on the counter. The silence that stretches between you is suffocating, thick with all the unspoken words that hang in the air like ghosts. You can feel his eyes on you, searching for something in your expression, but you refuse to give him the satisfaction of looking back.

Rafe swallows hard, the tension settling heavy in his chest. He opens his mouth to say something, but the words die on his tongue. He watches your every move, hoping for a sign—anything—that might tell him you still care, even if it’s just a spark of anger or pain. But you give him nothing.

You slide the beers across the counter toward him, your movements quick and efficient. “Anything else?” you ask, your tone clipped and business-like, as if this moment isn’t ripping you apart from the inside.

Rafe stares at you, his eyes flickering back and forth between yours, searching desperately for something—anything—that might hint at what you’re feeling. But you don’t let him see it. You hold his gaze with a cold, distant expression, one that feels foreign even to you. It’s a stark contrast to the way you looked at him the last time he saw you, broken down and vulnerable. The warmth that once lived in your eyes is gone, replaced by an icy shield you’ve built up to protect yourself.

His mouth opens for a second, and it almost looks like he’s going to say something—something important, something that might change the trajectory of this interaction. But he hesitates, words caught in his throat, and you see the flicker of conflict flash across his face. He bites his tongue, the sentence dying before it ever has a chance to leave his lips.

“Uh—no, that’s all. Thank you,” he manages to say, his voice barely above a whisper. It’s awkward, hollow, like he’s a shell of the man you once knew. He picks up the beers off the counter, his hand shaking slightly, and without another word, he turns away from you. He moves quickly, as if he’s trying to escape the weight of the moment, the unbearable silence hanging between you.

You watch him leave, his shoulders tense, his movements almost robotic as he disappears back into the crowd. A part of you wants to call him back, to demand answers, to tell him how much he’s hurt you. But you don’t. You stand there, rooted to the spot, swallowing down the lump in your throat as you remind yourself that he’s no longer your concern. He made his choice.

Rafe returns to his friends, dropping the beers onto the table with a thud that goes unnoticed by the group. They’re too caught up in their drunken laughter, their cheers filling the air as they reach for the drinks, oblivious to the turmoil brewing inside him. He forces a smile, pretending to be present, but his mind is miles away.

The brief encounter with you replays in his head on an endless loop, each second of it magnified, dissected, and analyzed like a broken record he can’t turn off. He can’t stop thinking about the look in your eyes—so cold and unfeeling, a far cry from the warmth and love they used to hold. It’s like staring into the face of a stranger, and it makes his chest ache with regret.

He takes a long swig of his beer, hoping the alcohol will numb the gnawing feeling in his gut, but it doesn’t. If anything, it makes the hollow sensation grow worse. He questions every part of that brief interaction: Should he have said something different? Should he have apologized again, right then and there? Should he have tried to explain himself, to make you see how much he’s been suffering too?

But it’s too late now. The moment has passed, and he knows he can’t change it. All he’s left with is the echo of your monotone “gotcha” and the way you looked right through him like he was nothing. He clenches his jaw, staring down at the condensation forming on his bottle, the laughter of his friends now just white noise in the background.

Rafe tries to shake it off, telling himself to get over it, to move on like everyone else seems to have. But he can’t. He’s stuck, trapped in his own head, replaying the scene over and over as he mentally beats himself up for everything he did wrong. It feels like a downward spiral he has no control over, a reminder that no matter how hard he tries to pretend everything is fine, the cracks are still there, ready to shatter him completely.

The night drags on, hours passing by in a haze for Rafe as he tries to drown his thoughts in drink after drink. The buzz of alcohol settles over him, a dull hum that makes him feel lighter, even if just for a moment. It’s a temporary escape, a slight escape from the relentless torment of his own mind. By the time his friends decide to call it a night, the Pelican Yacht Club has long since closed its doors.

The group gathers outside, their laughter a little louder, their goodbyes a little sloppier as they make plans to meet up again soon. Rafe stands at the edge of the group, his smile forced as he nods along, contributing half-heartedly to their final jokes. He feels distant, like he’s watching the scene play out from somewhere far away. One by one, his friends leave, until he’s the last one lingering in the parking lot, alone.

He sways slightly, fumbling in his pocket as he searches for his car keys. His coordination is off, the alcohol making his movements clumsy. He curses under his breath, frustration bubbling up as he struggles to pull the keys free from the tight fabric of his jeans. His head feels foggy, and the dull ache of regret pounds against his temples, as if the night is mocking him.

Just as he finally pulls the keys from his pocket, the sound of the front door creaking open behind him makes him freeze. The noise cuts through the silence, startling him. He turns around, his heart sinking when he sees you standing there.

You step out into the faint glow of the parking lot lights, your expression unreadable as you lock up for the night. The sight of you is enough to sober him up slightly, his buzz fading into a sharp pang of anxiety and longing. He hadn’t expected to see you again, not tonight, and certainly not like this. He opens his mouth, but no words come out, his mind racing with what he could possibly say after everything.

You don’t notice him at first, too focused on locking up, the familiar clicks of the door securing in place as you twist the key. It’s been a long night, and you’re eager to get home, to escape the remnants of the day’s chaos. But when you turn around, ready to leave, you see him standing there, swaying slightly under the lights of the parking lot. Rafe’s figure is slouched, his face half-shadowed, and even from a distance, you can tell he’s had too much to drink.

You sigh quietly to yourself, feeling a wave of irritation wash over you. You cross your arms defensively, a barrier between the two of you, as if it might protect you from the emotions he still stirs up inside you. “Rafe, what are you doing?” you ask, your tone edged with annoyance and judgment. It’s a reflex, your way of keeping him at arm’s length, of pretending that the sight of him doesn’t affect you as much as it does.

Rafe stares at you for a moment, looking caught off guard. He struggles to find his words, his brain muddled from the alcohol. “I was just—uh, leaving,” he mumbles, the words tumbling out clumsily. He mentally curses himself, hating how weak he sounds, how pathetic he must look to you right now. He’s Rafe Cameron—he’s supposed to have it all together, but here he is, fumbling in front of you like a lost kid.

You raise an eyebrow, unimpressed. “Well, we’re closed, so...” you say, your voice trailing off in a dismissive tone. You don’t finish the sentence, but the implication is clear: there’s nothing left for him here. Not tonight, and maybe not ever.

Your expression remains stone-cold, void of any emotion, and it sends a sharp pang through Rafe’s chest. He’s used to seeing fire in your eyes, whether it was anger, passion, or even sadness. But this cold indifference—it’s like a knife twisting in his gut. It’s as if you’ve already made up your mind about him, as if he’s just another inconvenience at the end of your shift.

Rafe stands frozen for a moment, the weight of his guilt pressing down on him, suffocating him with each passing second. He doesn’t know what to say, doesn’t know how to undo the damage he’s done, but his mind races, desperate for something to break the silence. Your cold indifference cuts through him like a blade, and for a moment, he feels as if he’s drowning in his own regret.

You turn your heel to walk to your car, the sound of your footsteps sharp against the quiet night, but Rafe’s voice halts you abruptly. “Y/n, wait,” he calls out, his tone more urgent than he intended, the alcohol slurring his words slightly.

You pause, but don’t turn around immediately, your body stiff with tension. You can feel the heaviness of his gaze on you. You knew he was going to say something, but you didn’t know what. Did he even have the right to speak to you? After everything?

Rafe takes a tentative step forward, his voice quieter now, but no less filled with a kind of desperation. “Please,” he adds, almost pleading. "I... I just need to say something." His hand twitches at his side, as if he wants to reach out, but he doesn’t, knowing it’s the last thing you probably want from him.

You hesitate, your fingers brushing the handle of your car door, torn between the need to escape and the need to understand. Rafe’s presence pulls at something deep inside you, but it’s a complicated knot of emotions you can’t untangle in a moment. You glance between him and your car, the battle in your chest raging, before your shoulders slump in defeat. You can’t leave him like this—not without hearing him out.

With a sharp exhale, you turn, looking at him once more. He’s waiting, as if he didn’t quite believe you’d stay, his posture stiff with tension. His eyes meet yours, and for the first time in a long while, you allow him that moment to speak. You give him an inch, but that’s all you’re willing to give.

Rafe’s breath shakes as he lets out a small sigh of relief, as though your decision to stay has momentarily lifted a weight from his chest. He shifts his weight nervously, not sure if he’s even saying the right things, but it doesn’t matter now. The words come tumbling out, almost too quickly. “I can’t... leave things where they were when we last talked,” he admits, his voice wavering with something close to regret and need.

You stare at him, confused, eyebrows furrowing as you process what he’s saying. The statement doesn’t sit right with you. You’ve been through so much, and now, after everything, he’s just showing up like this? The anger and the hurt bubble back up, and you feel your guard rise even higher. "What’s that supposed to mean?" you ask, your voice laced with uncertainty and a hint of frustration. His words don’t add up. After everything he’s put you through, after how he left, now he’s trying to make things right? It doesn’t make sense.

Rafe’s gaze flits around the parking lot, his fingers tugging at his hair as if trying to find something solid to hold onto in this conversation. His thoughts are racing, but the words come out in fragments, stammering as though he doesn’t even believe what he’s trying to say. “I—I don’t think we should leave off this way, you know? Maybe we just need... some closure?” He glances at you briefly, but quickly looks away, the uncertainty in his voice giving the whole thing a shaky feel.

You stand there, arms still crossed tightly over your chest, your posture defensive as you process his words. You stare at him, a bitter chuckle escaping your lips, shaking your head in disbelief. “Closure?” you repeat, scoffing slightly, as if the very idea of it is laughable. Your voice hardens as the frustration and anger come rushing back, thickening your tone. “I don’t need any closure from you, Rafe. It’s pretty damn clear what your decision is here. You’re getting married. What else is there to say?”

Rafe’s face pales at your words, and for a moment, he looks almost defeated. The sting of your anger hits him harder than anything he could have prepared for. He expected you to be upset, angry—hell, maybe even hurt—but this... this is different. The bitterness in your voice, the coldness in your eyes, it cuts deeper than anything he’s felt before.

"I know, I know but—" he mutters, his frustration bleeding through as he paces, running a hand through his hair in a futile attempt to gather his thoughts. "I can’t stand the thought of you hating me for the rest of your life because of this." The words fall from his lips full of desperation, his voice strained as he looks back at you, trying to convey something—anything—that could undo the damage.

His gaze locks with yours, searching for any hint of vulnerability, any crack in the wall you’ve built between the two of you. And for a brief, fleeting moment, he swears he sees something in your eyes—hurt, maybe even a glimmer of sympathy—but it’s gone just as quickly as it appeared. In its place, that same stone-cold, unreadable look that he’s grown all too familiar with tonight.

Your expression hardens again, and when you speak, your voice is quieter, but just as resolute. "Why are you doing this? I’m trying to move on, Rafe. I don’t have anything left to say to you anymore that’s gonna change what happens." You take a deep breath, your body tense as you prepare to put an end to this conversation. "So go back home to your fiancée and leave me alone."

His heart clenches painfully at the finality of your words. The way you speak—so detached, so sure of yourself—it makes everything feel so much worse. He thought there might be a chance, even the smallest one, for him to explain himself, to somehow make things right, but with each word you say, that possibility slips further and further away.

“Y/n,” he says softly, and it feels like a plea, like he’s begging for something you can’t give. His eyes meet yours, desperation and regret clouding his expression. “I made a mistake. You were right, I didn’t try hard enough. I was so used to everyone in my life leaving me that I pushed you away before I thought you could do it to me.” His voice cracks slightly on the last part, and he takes a step closer, but you don’t flinch. You stay still, frozen by his words. “I can’t change that, but I need you to know that this is ruining me. I spend every damn day and night replaying what you said to me in my head,” he continues, his fingers tapping frantically at his temple, as if the memory of your hurtful words is a physical wound he can’t escape. “I can’t let you go, y/n.”

The air between you thickens, the words hanging heavily in the silence that follows. Your heart wrenches at the rawness in his voice, but there’s still so much anger, so much betrayal coiled inside you that you refuse to let it go. You were right. You knew, deep down, that the Rafe you loved—who you thought was yours—was gone, replaced by someone who could never give you what you needed.

"Stop," you finally say, your voice low, trembling with everything you've been holding inside. "Stop pretending like this is about me. It’s about you, Rafe. Always has been. You don’t get to come here, to pull me back into your mess, just because you feel guilty. You don’t get to destroy me and expect me to just pick up the pieces and put you back together."

You take a step back, the space between you growing, but your chest tightens. His words echo in your mind, but you can't let them have the power they once did. Not anymore.

“Y/n, please, don’t do this,” he begs, his eyes filled with a mix of regret and pain as he gazes up at you. Then, before you can even process it, he falls to his knees in front of you. The motion is sudden, startling, and leaves you frozen, speechless. His arms wrap around your waist, pulling you close, as if he can somehow erase the past with his touch, his brokenness seeping into you like a virus you’ve already fought too long to get rid of.

“I need you,” he mumbles against your stomach, and you can hear the tears in his voice. The man who used to be your world is now kneeling before you, broken, crying, and pleading in a way you never thought you'd see. It's almost too much, the weight of it crushing your chest, but you fight it. You fight it hard, as though giving in would undo everything you’ve worked so hard to build.

You try to push him away, but your hands falter, shaking as they hover over him. You don’t want to give in. You don’t want to let him pull you back into his chaos. Not after everything.

“Rafe... please, just stop,” you say, but even to your own ears, your voice is weak, trembling with the same sorrow you’ve been trying so hard to bury. You don’t know whether you’re trying to convince him or yourself. Your chest tightens with every second he holds onto you, every second he doesn’t let go.

He doesn’t stop. His grip on you only tightens as he looks up at you, his face streaked with tears, eyes full of raw, untamed emotion.

“I’m sorry, y/n,” he chokes out. “I’m so sorry. I never should’ve let you go. I never should’ve pushed you away. I—” His voice cracks, and he buries his face in your stomach, unable to finish the sentence. The sound of his sobs against your skin is almost too much to bear. It stirs something in you, something painful, something you thought you’d buried so deep that it couldn’t hurt anymore. But it does.

You shake your head, fighting against the part of you that still wants to be there for him, that still wants to believe in the words he’s saying.

“I can’t look at you the same, Rafe,” you whisper, your voice cracking under the strain of holding back tears. You tense up, every muscle in your body recoiling from the touch that once brought you comfort but now only fills you with a deep, searing pain. Your face twists into an expression of disgust, your lip trembling as you continue. “I can’t look at you knowing you’ve proposed to somebody else. I don’t think I could ever forget that.”

Your words are laced with a solemn, heartbreaking truth that makes Rafe’s breath hitch. He opens his mouth to say something, anything, but no words come out. He looks utterly broken, his eyes searching yours desperately for any sign that you don’t mean it. But he finds none.

“That’s not something somebody can just get over,” you add, your voice barely above a whisper, yet it echoes in his ears like a shout.

Rafe’s eyes well up with fresh tears. He drops his head, resting his forehead against your stomach as he chokes out a shaky breath. “I know,” he whispers, his voice filled with raw anguish. “I know I’ve ruined everything. But I still love you, y/n. I’ve never stopped loving you.”

You swallow hard, squeezing your eyes shut as if that could block out the pain of his words. “That doesn’t change anything,” you murmur, your hands still hovering over him, unsure whether to push him away or pull him closer. “You made your choice, Rafe. And it wasn’t me.”

He flinches as if you’ve slapped him, his arms falling limply to his sides. The realization that he can’t undo what he’s done, that he’s lost you for good, washes over him, leaving him hollow. He looks up at you one last time, his expression a mixture of desperation and helplessness.

Once Rafe stands up, there’s a brief silence as he stares into your teary eyes. He swallows the lump in his throat as he takes in your appearance — even after a busy day, you still look beautiful and flawless. It’s one of the things he always admired about you, how you could be under a whirlwind of stress and still somehow look perfect. But as he gazes at you now, his eyes fill with dread and desperation.

“Listen to me, y/n, please just listen to me,” he pleads, his voice breaking as he points to his chest. You stay silent but don’t move, your eyes peering up at him with a painfully broken look that he wishes he could erase. “I fucked up, okay? I fucked up. It shouldn’t have taken me so long to realize it, but I did, and I’m so, so sorry.” His lip trembles, his eyes filled with tears and sorrow.

You stand there, unmoving, as his words spill out with raw emotion, almost tripping over themselves in his haste to get them out. The sight of Rafe, usually so composed, now crumbling in front of you is enough to make your heart ache. You clench your jaw, trying to keep your composure, but you can feel your front wavering.

Rafe’s eyes are red and glossy, his lips trembling as he desperately tries to explain himself. He points to his chest, almost as if he’s trying to pull the words directly from his heart, like they’ve been buried deep inside him for too long.

“I still love you,” he whispers, the words trembling on his lips like they’re too fragile to say out loud. “This entire time, I never stopped. I just thought I was doing what was right by letting you go. I thought I was saving you from… from me. I couldn’t ruin your life anymore.”

You inhale sharply, the air catching in your throat as his words hang in the space between you like a heavy fog. You want to be angry, to lash out, but instead, all you feel is a deep, consuming sadness. It’s like everything you’ve held back, every ounce of pain and longing, is suddenly sitting right there on the surface, impossible to hide.

Your voice is soft, almost trembling as you speak. “You don’t get to decide what’s best for me, Rafe. You don’t get to choose when you love me and when you let me go.”

Rafe’s face crumples at your words, his hands balling into fists at his sides. “I know,” he chokes out, his voice barely a whisper. “I thought I was protecting you, but all I did was hurt you. I was so scared of losing you that I ended up pushing you away. And now… now I’ve lost you anyway.”

There’s a silence that follows, heavy and suffocating, as if the weight of everything left unsaid is pressing down on your chest. You blink back the tears that have gathered in your eyes, finally allowing one to slip down your cheek.

“I don’t know if I can forgive you for this,” you admit, your voice strained and filled with a pain that’s almost unbearable to hear.

Rafe steps forward as if to reach for you, but he stops himself, his hand falling back to his side. “I don’t expect you to,” he whispers, his voice barely audible. “I just needed you to know… I needed you to hear it from me. I never stopped loving you, and I never will.”

You close your eyes, letting the tears fall freely as his words wash over you. It feels like every emotion you’ve tried to bury is clawing its way back up to the surface, tearing you apart from the inside. You want to shut him out, to run away and pretend this conversation never happened, but you can’t. Not now. Not after everything he’s said.

With a shaky hand, you wipe the tears from your cheeks, sniffling as you let out a bitter, humorless laugh. “So what now, huh?” you ask, your voice strained with raw emotion. “You love me, but in a few weeks, you’ll be off marrying someone else?”

Your expression twists with anger and heartbreak, the frustration building up like an unbearable pressure in your chest. It’s like everything you’ve held back for so long is finally breaking free, and you can’t stop it anymore. You look at him with a fury born out of pain, your eyes ablaze with a mix of betrayal and sorrow.

Rafe flinches at your words, his face crumpling as if you’ve physically struck him. He shakes his head frantically, trying to find something — anything — to say that will make this right. But the truth is, he doesn’t have an answer. He’s caught in his own web of mistakes, and he knows it.

“I thought I was doing the right thing,” he whispers, almost to himself, as if he’s trying to convince himself that his actions were justified. But even he knows it’s a lie. He looks up at you, his eyes pleading for some kind of forgiveness, some kind of understanding. “I never wanted to hurt you.”

“Then why did you?” you cry out, your voice breaking. “Why did you do this to me? Why did you let me believe that you didn’t care when you knew how much I loved you?”

The silence that follows is deafening, filled with all the things that neither of you can say. You’re both standing there, barely holding it together. Rafe takes a step towards you, his hand reaching out as if he wants to touch you, to comfort you. But you take a step back, shaking your head.

“No — don’t touch me!” you shout, stumbling back as Rafe reaches out for you. You throw your hand in the air, creating a barrier between you. “Don’t fucking touch me!” Your voice cracks, filled with a raw pain that you’ve been holding in for far too long.

The words escape your lips like a scream, your sobs growing louder as the reality of everything crashes over you like a wave, threatening to pull you under. It’s as if the dam you’ve kept up for so long has finally broken, and there’s no stopping the flood of emotions now.

Rafe’s hand drops to his side, his face pale and stricken as he watches you fall apart in front of him. He wants to say something, anything, to take back what he’s done, but the words seem to be caught in his throat, strangled by his own guilt.

“You ruined me, Rafe!” you cry out, your voice laced with a bitterness that makes him flinch. “You fucking ruined me!” You point to your chest, stabbing your finger against your sternum as if you’re trying to drill the pain into him, to make him feel even an ounce of what you’re feeling.

“And now you get to live your life with someone else,” you continue, your words heavy with despair, “and I’m still here, trying to get over you.” Your voice breaks on the last word, your face contorted in anguish as tears stream down your cheeks.

You look at him, your eyes filled with a mix of heartbreak and fury. It’s almost unbearable, the way he looks at you — like he’s seeing you for the first time, truly understanding the depth of the pain he’s caused. His lips part as if to say something, but no sound comes out. He stands there, helpless and broken, as he realizes the full weight of what he’s done to you.

“Do you have any idea what it’s like?” you continue, your voice trembling. “To be replaced? To watch you make a future with someone else while I'm still stuck in the past?”

Rafe’s eyes fill with tears, his chest heaving as the weight of his own guilt crashes down on him. He shakes his head, and when he finally speaks, his voice is barely a whisper, strained with intense emotion. “I see what this has done to you, y/n," he says, his words trembling with sincerity. "And I can’t tell you how sorry I am for hurting you like this. But this —” he gestures between the two of you, his hand trembling as he struggles to find the right words, “— this is hurting me too.”

His eyes are pleading, desperate for you to understand. “You don’t get what I’m saying, y/n. There is no future without you. I can’t even fucking look at Sofia without subconsciously comparing her to you. I can’t even imagine a life where you’re not there.”

You flinch at his confession, feeling your chest tighten as his words sink in. It feels like a gut punch, hearing him say out loud what you’ve feared deep down — that he still loves you, that he’s been pretending all along. You clench your fists, trying to steel yourself against the burning emotions his words bring up. It hurts too much to even look at him right now, the man who was once your everything, standing there and admitting he still wants you despite everything.

“You’re engaged, Rafe,” you choke out, as if reminding him — or maybe reminding yourself. “You’re about to marry her, start a new life with her. How can you say that to me?”

Rafe shakes his head frantically, wiping the tears from his cheeks as if trying to scrub away his own shame. “I don’t know,” he admits, his voice breaking. “I don’t fucking know how I got here. I thought I was doing what was right, I thought I was moving on. But the entire time I’ve been fooling myself. It’s you. It’s always been you.”

You stare at him, stunned into silence. The sincerity in his eyes, the way his voice cracks when he says your name — it’s too much. It’s everything you’ve wanted to hear, but it’s also everything you’ve feared because it complicates the pain you’ve worked so hard to bury.

“I can’t stand this,” he continues, taking a step closer. He looks at you with an anguish that you’ve never seen from him before, like he’s on the verge of completely unraveling. “I can’t stand the thought of spending my life with someone else when every part of me still loves you. I don’t want a future where I’m constantly wishing it was you beside me instead.”

“Then why?” you finally whisper, your voice breaking as you look at him through your tears. “Why didn’t you fight for us? Why didn’t you choose me?”

Rafe’s face crumples, a sob escaping his lips as he takes another step forward. “Because I was scared, Y/N. I was scared that I’d destroy you, that I’d ruin your life the way I’ve ruined everything else. I thought you deserved better, someone who wouldn’t drag you down with their bullshit. I thought letting you go was what you needed.”

Your lips tremble, your eyes glued to the ground as you stand there before him, openly weeping. The sobs come out in shuddering gasps, and it’s painfully clear that you’re waging a war with yourself, torn between the pull of your heart and the reality staring you in the face.

“This is wrong...” you choke out, shaking your head as you look down at the pavement. “This entire thing is so fucked up now, Rafe.” You take a shaky breath, trying to steady yourself, but your voice cracks with the weight of your words. “I can’t tell you I want to be with you knowing you have a fiancée. I’m not that type of person.”

Rafe looks at you, completely shattered. The realization of how deeply he’s hurt you, and how badly he’s messed everything up, is etched across his face. He steps closer, his hands reaching out, but he stops himself just inches away, as if he’s afraid that touching you would make it even worse.

“You don’t think I know that?” he whispers, his voice filled with a vulnerable, desperate plea. “You don’t think I’ve been tearing myself apart over this? I know what I did. I know I put you in this impossible position. But God, y/n, I can’t lose you. Not like this.”

It’s as if the sincerity in Rafe’s voice drags you into a tidal wave of emotions you can’t control. Your sobs grow harder, louder, as you struggle against the rising tide of everything you’ve kept bottled up inside. You wipe your tears with the back of your trembling hand, trying to steady your breath. It takes every ounce of strength you have left to lift your eyes and look at him, your voice barely a whisper, choked with disbelief.

"So what do you suggest, Rafe?" you manage to get out, your words laced with pain and anger. "Because I’m not a homewrecker, and I’m sure as hell not gonna start now." You say it with a force that surprises even you, as if you need to convince yourself just as much as him.

Rafe’s eyes widen, filling with a desperate, almost frantic light. He steps closer, his hands reaching out as if to touch you, but he hesitates, letting them fall back to his sides. He’s trembling, his chest heaving as he struggles to get the words out. "I’ll... I’ll break things off with her," he stammers, his voice raw and pleading. "I’ll tell her I don’t want this anymore. Whatever it takes, I’ll do it."

He looks at you with an earnestness that you haven’t seen in years, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. He’s practically begging, his voice breaking as he continues, "Please, just... just let me make this right. Let me fix this."

You stand there, stunned into silence. The weight of his words, the sheer gravity of his promise, leaves you breathless. You search his face, trying to find any hint of doubt or hesitation, but all you see is desperation. He’s standing there, laying his heart bare before you, offering you everything he has left.

And yet, the fear and doubt in your chest tighten like a vice. It’s everything you ever wanted to hear from him, and yet it feels like it’s coming too late. "You’d break off your engagement?" you whisper, almost disbelieving, as if you need him to say it again for you to believe it.

"Yes," Rafe breathes out without hesitation, his voice cracking. "I would. I’ll do it right now if that’s what it takes. I’ll call her, I’ll tell her everything. Just—just don’t walk away from me. Not again."

You stand there, frozen in shock and grief. He’s offering to leave everything behind—his fiancée, his life as he knows it—all for you. It’s everything you once dreamed of hearing from him, but now it feels like a hollow promise, a desperate plea that leaves you at odds with yourself. Your heart pounds in your chest, torn between the memories of the boy you first loved and the stranger standing before you now, a man who’s broken you more than anyone ever has.

You swallow hard, your voice barely above a whisper as you look at him, searching his face for any sign of the boy you once knew. "How do I know you won't do the same to me, Rafe?" you ask, your eyes filled with both heartbreak and accusation. "How do I know that you won't change your mind in a few months, or decide again that I'm not worth the fight? How do I trust you after everything you've put me through?"

Rafe's voice shakes, his eyes searching yours, desperate for any sign of understanding. "You’re my first love," he repeats, softer this time, as if the words themselves carry a burden he’s never let go of. His gaze is intense, filled with intense emotion that seems to pierce straight through you.

"I’ve never felt this way about anyone before. And I know I messed up, I know I hurt you—more than I ever should have. But you’re the one I keep coming back to, no matter what, no matter how hard I try to move on." He swallows hard, his voice cracking slightly. "I’ve been trying to tell myself that I could be happy with Sofia, that I could settle for what I have now, but I can’t. Not when I keep thinking about you. About us."

His hands twitch at his sides, a barely contained energy as he steps closer, but not enough to invade your space. He seems to respect the distance you’ve created, but you can feel the pull of his presence, the desperation in his every word.

"I made a mistake, y/n," he says, his voice breaking as if the weight of the confession is physically painful. "And I know that doesn’t change anything. But what I feel for you—it’s not something I can just walk away from. I can’t forget about you. I don’t want to forget about you."

You’re silent, your thoughts a tangled mess, but the truth in his words cuts through the chaos, and you can’t help but feel that old connection flaring inside of you. The love that was once so pure, so certain, but now feels like a distant memory, something impossible to hold onto in this moment.

But Rafe is still standing there, eyes pleading with you, waiting for you to speak. His words hang in the air, heavy. "You’re my first love, y/n. And that means something to me. I can’t just let it go."

The sincerity in his voice cracks your walls just a little more, and for a brief second, you want to believe him. You want to give in and let him in again. But the fear, the pain, the loss—it all rushes back. How could you trust him again after everything he’s done?

But his eyes—those same eyes that once held so much promise—are full of regret, full of a longing that makes your heart ache. And despite everything, despite the doubt that still lingers like a shadow between you, you can’t help but ask, "What are you asking of me, Rafe?"

His lips tremble as he opens his mouth to respond, his voice barely above a whisper. "I’m asking you to give me a chance. A real chance to prove to you that I won’t make the same mistake again. I’m asking you to trust me again, even if it’s just for a little while. To let me show you I’m not the same person who walked away."

You take a shaky breath, your heart pounding in your chest. It feels like a decision that could change everything—everything you’ve worked for to protect yourself from him, from the hurt. But the sincerity in his eyes, the raw emotion in his voice, it pulls at something inside you. Something you thought was long buried.

"Please, y/n," he whispers, his voice thick with emotion, "just give me a chance."

You stand there, frozen for a moment, as Rafe’s words echo in your mind. Your heart is a battlefield, torn between the pain of the past and the ache for what could’ve been. You can’t ignore the emotions swirling inside you—the longing, the betrayal, the love that’s never really gone away.

You stare at him, your expression unreadable, as your eyes flicker between his. You’re caught in a moment of vulnerability, unsure of what to do next. But then, all the years of hurt, the anger, the love you’d buried deep inside you, rush to the surface in one overwhelming wave.

Without thinking, you reach up to him, your hand trembling as you pull his face toward yours. His breath catches as your lips meet in a kiss that’s electric, full of all the things you can’t put into words. At first, it’s tentative, a question in the way you both move, as if unsure if this is real, if this is the right thing to do. But the moment he responds, pulling you closer, you know you’re both lost in this—lost in the feelings that have always been there, buried beneath the hurt and the distance.

Rafe’s hands slide to your back, pressing you against him, and you can feel the heat of his body, the desperation in the way he holds you, like he’s afraid to let go, like you might slip away again. His lips are soft but demanding, as if he’s trying to make up for all the time that’s been lost. Your heart races, and everything around you fades into nothingness. It’s just you and him, just the connection you once had, reigniting in a way that feels both comforting and painful all at once.

For a moment, everything is perfect. All the doubts, all the pain, fade away in the warmth of his touch, in the way his kiss deepens, as if he’s trying to pour everything he’s kept inside into you. But then, a sharp pang of reality stabs at you. This isn’t a fairytale. This isn’t a happy ending yet. Your hands push against his chest, breaking the kiss, and you take a step back, your breath ragged.

Rafe stares at you, his chest heaving, his face flushed with emotion. His hands are still outstretched, as if he’s afraid you’ll disappear if he lets you go. His lips are swollen, his eyes searching yours for any sign that this is real, that you haven’t just pulled away because of the past.

You pull away from the kiss just long enough to look into his eyes, searching for any sign of doubt, any hint that this might be a fleeting moment, but you find none. There’s only sincerity and longing, as if he’s been waiting for this moment just as much as you have. The realization hits you all at once: this is real, and it’s all he’s ever wanted, too.

Before you can even process the thoughts racing through your mind, you’re pulled back into him. His lips crash against yours once again, but this time, it’s different. It’s not just a kiss—it’s a confession, a promise, a desperate release of everything you both kept inside for so long. The world around you disappears as your hands find their way to his hair, tugging him closer as if you can’t get enough of him.

His hands slide under your thighs, lifting you effortlessly, and in a heartbeat, your legs are wrapped around his waist. The cool air outside disappears as the heat between you both intensifies. He presses you against the truck door, his lips still capturing yours, and you can feel the weight of his desire in every movement.

Rafe groans against your lips, his breath ragged, his hands pulling you closer as though he’s afraid you might slip away from him again. He moves with a hunger you’ve never seen before, and yet, it’s familiar, as if every kiss, every touch is a reminder of something you both once had and now desperately crave. You can feel his heart hammering in his chest, matching the erratic rhythm of your own.

You pull away, your lips swollen from the intensity, but your foreheads stay pressed together, both of you gasping for air. His hands roam to your back, holding you against him as if he can’t bear the thought of letting go. The vulnerability of the moment is overwhelming, but it’s also freeing. In this moment, you don’t care about the past. You don’t care about the pain, the mistakes, or the fear. All that matters is right here, right now, with him.

"Rafe," you whisper, your voice breaking as you look up at him. “This is… too much, I—”

He cuts you off with another kiss, gentle this time, his lips brushing against yours with a tenderness that makes your heart ache. “I know. I know. But I can’t help it, y/n. I need you. I’ve always needed you.”

The words hit you harder than anything else, and despite every doubt that lingers, you know this is the real Rafe, the one you fell for all those years ago. He’s here. And he’s not going anywhere.

"I still love you, Rafe. I've never fully stopped."

Rafe’s breath catches in his throat as he hears your words. His entire body goes still for a moment, as if he's trying to process what you've just said. His fingers dig into your back, pulling you even closer as though he's afraid that if he lets go, you’ll disappear.

His eyes search yours, desperate for confirmation, for a sign that you mean it, that you’re not saying it out of guilt or hurt. His heart races in his chest, the same way it always did when you were near. But this time, there’s something different in the way he looks at you—a sense of relief, of finally being seen and understood after everything that’s passed between you both.

“I never stopped loving you,” he whispers, his voice rough with emotion. “I never fucking stopped, y/n.”

His hands cradle your face gently, his thumb brushing away a stray tear you didn’t even realize had fallen. His gaze softens, a mix of regret and longing flooding his expression. “I don’t deserve you, but I’ll do whatever it takes to prove to you that I can be what you need. I can be the man you’ve always wanted me to be.”

You lean into his touch, the weight of the words, of everything that’s been left unsaid, starting to settle in. It’s still chaos, and the reality of everything is still real and messy. But in this moment, you realize that you don’t need to have it all figured out right now. What matters is the connection between you two, the bond that’s never really broken, no matter how far apart you’ve been.

“I just want you to stay,” you say softly, your voice trembling, but steady. “No more running. No more pushing me away. Just stay, Rafe. I need you.”

Rafe’s eyes close for a moment, taking in the full depth of your words, and then he nods. A tear slips down his cheek, but it’s not one of sadness—it’s one of relief, of knowing that maybe, just maybe, this is the second chance he’s been waiting for.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he promises, his voice filled with the certainty that comes with knowing exactly what he wants. “I’ll never leave you again.”

[yan-randomfandom]

yandere viktor with an innocent and naive reader but with magical abilities, where the reader knows how to use simple magic like conjuring plants or controlling water... ((the reader only knows the basics of magic, since no one taught it and this magic would be the only one so far who knows how to do it, and the reader was a little scared of being in a rush or being studied like a lab rat because she has magic, but she confided her secret to Viktor...)) Why do you do that?

Y!Viktor x GN!Mage!Reader

a/n: posting this before act 2 omg, i think i need a rewatch — btw this one only has very light yandere undertones,, ..erm

💦 ;

"Psst. Hey, want to know a secret?"

Viktor blinked. His eyes followed the moving reflection on the iridescent river. Your figure was mirrored in the water, an unreadable expression on your face.

... He looked up, alarmed. Were you talking to him? Viktor didn't even know you.

You met his amber eyes. For whatever reason, on the edge of the cliff just above the water, you folded your legs against your chest and buried half your face in your arms.

"Well?" you pushed, voice muffled.

His mouth opened, then closed. Viktor nodded wordlessly instead.

" ... Promise me you won't tell anyone."

Without a moment's hesitation, the young boy nodded again.

He watched as you stood up and jumped steadily into the river, splashing him and his mechanical boat. A low, frustrated groan escaped him as water seeped into his clothes.

"Oh, sorry," you said as he tried to wipe the water from his face. "Let me get that for you."

Suddenly, Viktor felt his weight gradually become less unpleasant—almost refreshing, even, as if the water slid across and away from his skin and clothes.

That's when he saw it.

A small blob of water, floating in the air. It moved carefully like it was fragile.

Then came another, and another. Small specks came together until it formed one single bubble.

Abruptly, it dropped in the river. Like nothing ever happened. Viktor's eyes widened in disbelief.

"Cool, right?" you grinned. He looked at you with furrowed eyebrows, his jaw gaping. One of your hands was lifted, fingers poised in a manner of delicacy.

"You," Viktor finally spoke, stammering, his breathing ragged. "You did that? Was that... magic?"

You chuckled, settling yourself beside him. He turned to you, scooting over to make room, and met your steady gaze. “I think so. But I was serious when I said never, ever tell anyone.”

He shook his head, utterly appalled. "Is this some sort of trick?"

"I wish—"

“This is not funny,” he snarled, his demeanor shifting completely, catching you off guard. “If you’re just here to get a reaction out of me, I’d advise you and your friends to leave. Please.”

You frowned, standing up with your fists clenched. “No, you’ve got it all wrong. I’m so sorry! And I don’t… even have friends.”

Viktor searched your face.

There's nothing to suggest a lie. He's observant, and he quietly prides himself over it, but this is one of the few cases where he genuinely starts to doubt his judgment.

"But," you sighed, turning away. "I'll leave if that's what you want. Apologies."

...

"... Wait."

— 🫧

The leaves of the seedling barely moved.

"Aw," you chuckled, dropping your arm to your side. Who knew conjuring plant powers could be so draining? "Well, I tried. Let's take a break!"

He let out a choked noise, pausing his writing. "We barely started! How is it that whenever you get to try something new and amazing, you avoid it?”

...

You didn't respond immediately.

Viktor put down his notebook, looking back at you, who was blankly staring at him.

"I guess I'm... scared?" you said, tilting your head. To his surprise, you gently grabbed his hand, running your thumb across his palm.

His face warmed. He physically couldn't say or do anything.

"You're the only one who knows about this, Vik," you muttered, your eyes fixed on his rough skin. "I sprung this on you when we were kids, which is kind of hilarious, by the way, but I had a reason. In my mind, you were the only one who would understand."

He thought so, too.

Viktor couldn’t stop himself from slipping his fingers between yours. It was a good thing you weren’t looking at him—otherwise, you might’ve seen how red his face had become.

"And you told me no one will believe me," he said, and while the memory was of you giving him a serious warning, his tone was filled with nothing but endearment.

"I still stand by that," you laughed, pulling your hand away from his, much to his disappointment. You still hadn't glance at his face. He mentally scolded himself for almost hoping you would see his expression. "Especially with our age now. They'll just think you're crazy."

"I understand," he chuckled, turning away. "About that break... you want to go to our usual?"

A smile curled on your lips. "Yes, please!"

— 🌱

Viktor said he has a surprise for you.

Admittedly, you're feeling extremely anxious. He grew up to become a researcher, an inventor—facts that don’t surprise you.

As his best friend, a person able to do magic, while absolutely shitty at it, you know he sees you as someone with massive potential. Literally. No one else in Piltover or Zaun is known to do this. Maybe in a hundred years—who knows? You didn't even have a proper education.

...

Viktor cleared his throat. "I've been offered a position in the University of Piltover."

You froze. The letter in his fingers bore the university’s wax seal in the center, bold and unmistakable.

“Holy shit,” you blurted, your eyes darting between him and the letter. “Holy shit!”

Jumping over to Viktor, you wrapped your arms around him in a tight embrace. The biggest, most triumphant smile tugged at your lips. He staggered a little, but you were too wrapped up in your happiness to notice.

"Language," he laughed, hugging you back.

You snickered. "I'm so proud of you! Words can't even begin to express how happy I am for you!"

Pulling back, your hands still rested on his shoulders. Your smile relaxed ever so slightly as your eyes gazed into his softer ones.

"I knew you could do it," you exhaled.

A small pause.

Viktor had a look. Oh, shit. What’s that smirk for?

"...You're not done," you accused, raising an eyebrow.

He lifted the letter in his hand. "I have not accepted yet."

Now, your brows knitted together in utter confusion.

"... Why not—?"

"I said I won't be going unless they let me bring a plus one."

You smile faltered, denial crossing your face. He noticed it. Did he just say what you thought you heard him say?

"Are you saying...?" Your expression shifted into disbelief; you didn't quite understand his point.

"I want you to come with me," Viktor said, grabbing your hand and placing the letter in your palm. "To Piltover."

Oh, no. You didn't mean to.

The letter slipped from your hand as you panicked and pulled away.

Viktor felt overwhelmingly worried. He thought you'd be happier about the news.

Then, he looked around.

It had rained just before he decided to share the news. Some raindrops were still fresh, glistening from the downpour.

And around your figure, small droplets rose into the air. You were emotional.

"Viktor. You're not giving me to them, are you...?"

Defeated. That's how your voice sounded.

"Of course not," he hushed, pushing you onto a chair. "Never. Please calm down. Let me explain."

You obliged, sitting down. He sat beside you.

"I'm sorry," you spoke first, meeting his eyes. "It's not that I don't trust you. Heck, I trust you more than anyone. The thought of going up there... it just makes me anxious."

"I understand," Viktor nodded. He turned his head. "However, I promise you, I won’t let them take you away from me. You’ll be solely under my care. But I do know someone who’s willing to help us."

Viktor. So compassionate and filled with empathy. You admired him for those very reasons, not just for his brilliance. His presence feels like a whole other world to you—someone who could help you understand your abilities. Perhaps the only chance you have to truly learn who, or what you are.

"I'll be a burden."

"No. Of course not. I want you by my side."

You hesitated. Despite your family being clueless about your ability, they were still the people you cared for. You still had a life in the undercity.

"And if I refuse...?"

Viktor took a moment to respond. The thought of leaving you hurt his heart.

"You... I believe you don't have much of a choice."

You couldn't explain why, but you found it in yourself to wholeheartedly believe him.

— 💌

zamn

critique is welcome btw

[oediex]

You know what, yeah, that bell hooks quotation wasn't appropriate, it doesn't say what the person who added it think it says.

But I don't think it's fair to say that that man who everyone is pissing on somehow claimed we had to "hold his hand" or "coddle" him or whatever. Or even that women had to do it.

He never once even mentioned the word 'woman' in that post. I'm not excluding that that what he was implying - it's very possible! - but what he said was "the left", and let's be clear, this is his understanding of what the left is. I saw people saying that a "self-proclaimed leftist" should understand that his answer was still drenched in patriarchal thinking. But he never once proclaimed he was a leftist. Perhaps he thinks he is, but all he said was that he got "out" of the "alt-right". For all we know, that means he voted for the Democratic Party and we, who are on the left, all know that's not the fucking left.

The question that was posed was how do we keep young men from turning right wing, and he offered an explanation. An explanation! Not an excuse! Again something that a lot of people just assumed.

And yes, it was a flawed explanation, and yes he has some things to learn, and yes it was uncritical and terribly phrased.

But can we recognise that not everyone has the necessary critical thinking skills to completely dig their way out of the overarching ideology that fucking rules our lives? Critical thinking skills aren't something that we are born with. It's something that is learned, something that you have to train. It's a never-ending project. And from what I know of the educational system in the US? That's not where you get it.

Speaking of bell hooks, at least she understands this. In that book (The Will to Change) she writes that "most men never think about patriarchy - what it means, how it is created and sustained." She writes how the patriarchy sees men's violence and the one emotion they're allowed to have, anger, as "natural". Understanding the patriarchy is something that has to be learned, and you either figure it out yourself by reading, but most of us probably had someone in our lives who talked to us about it, taught us about it, and then we might have started reading more about it.

What if you don't have someone like that? What if all you hear is that the things feminists tell you is bad is what was imprinted on you as "natural" to you?

Here's bell hooks:

Yet no one talks about the role patriarchal notions of manhood play in teaching boys that it is their nature to kill, then teaching them that they can do nothing to change this nature—nothing, that is, that will leave their masculinity intact.

Here's what she says of her own brother:

As patriarchal thinking and action claimed him in adolescence, he learned to mask his loving feelings. He entered that space of alienation and antisocial behavior deemed “natural” for adolescent boys.

She clearly pinpoints the moment of these patriarchal ideas taking hold to be in adolescent, and the question that was posed was, what can we do to stop that from happening? I've seen people say that nothing can be done until we change the material conditions that make it so that men systematically have power over women. And yeah, undoubtedly that is a fight we need to have. But is that truly the only way we can keep (some) boys from falling into the grasp of the (alt-)right? Is there no hope in at least reaching them in the meantime?

I've seen a post saying, "omg of course he goes for misandry" and while misandry isn't real in that men are not systematically oppressed, that doesn't mean that there aren't some out there who express hatred or disgust of men. That's not what the left stands for, obviously, but it is not absent. Here are some comments from the notes on some of these reaction posts (and presumably these are all people who consider themselves leftists):

"you should be hunted for sport"

"makes me want to commit homocide"

"kys right now"

"'leftists constantly said i should die' yeah fucking right"

"we need to double male loneliness and I'm not even kidding"

"I HATE MEN AND THERE IS NOTHING WRONG WITH THAT. THEY HATE US MORE AND THEY HAVE ALL THE POWER TO DO ACTUAL HARM TO US. Misandry is NOT FUCKING REAL but I wish it was"

"we should kill people who don't get it"

Is that hatred of men (non-systematically)? Not all of it, but some of it definitely or possibly qualifies. And it sure does look like some people (who probably think themselves leftists) think this man (or men in general) are the "scum of the earth" and that they want him/them dead. How else do you interpret some of these phrases?

Now imagine that this is something that you encounter online, and with the help of the stranglehold of the patriarchy, whispers of right wing ideology, confirmation bias, and negativity bias? I can imagine you might end up concluding they "hate you for your immutable traits" (remember patriarchy teaches boys that violence and anger is natural to them) and that they "blame you for everything that's wrong in the world".

Is that the right conclusion? No. But as much as being able to use reason is part of being human, so is not being immune to ideology and propaganda. We wouldn't fucking be where we are right now if that wasn't the case.

How do we teach boys that anger and violence aren't "immutable traits"? How do we educate them about the power of the patriarchy? Well, where does it have to come from if not from the fucking left?

Does it have to be you? No. Does it have to be women? Also no. It's probably good if it's men, and especially men who themselves walked with the right at some point (if someone has already been pulled into the right, rather than catching them before).

It can be a woman though, if there's someone who wants to do it. I don't mind doing it if someone wants to talk about it. Will I be nice? No, I won't hold back and I will tell them if what they're saying is wrong. Will I coddle them? Fuck no. Will I keep trying if someone clearly isn't listening? No. Will I be compassionate? Yeah, I think I will.

Because compassion is really important when you're trying to keep people from falling into the far-right, or even if you're trying to get them out of it (which again, isn't what we were talking about in the first place).

Here's Pete Simi, professor of Sociology, talking about Life After Hate, an American non-profit that tries to help people leave the far-right:

The organization was started by former hate group members who have been doing a lot of outreach in terms of providing testimonials and trainings to schools and law enforcement and other community groups across the country. The focus of their message is the importance of using compassion to inform prevention and intervention efforts and aftercare for individuals who want to change their lives but may need various types of support. I think LAH is a very promising development and I hope it will continue to find the resources that it needs to expand the services it provides.

Being compassionate doesn't mean coddling. It doesn't mean holding their hands and it doesn't even mean being nice to them. It doesn't exclude holding people accountable for their views. It does require patience, though. And I understand that if someone is holding the belief that you are not allowed to exist, that isn't something you can do. And that's fine. It doesn't have to be you.

But somebody has to do it, and it has to be someone on the left.

Now none of that means that the suffering of men under patriarchy, and the fact that this has to be addressed loud and clear, are more important than the suffering that women, and especially women whose oppression intersects with other levels of oppression. I've seen some tags on reaction posts that stated "omg of course centring men in discussions of gender" - but the post was about men. That was the whole starting point!

Because men do suffer under the patriarchy. And it's pushing them to the right, towards misogyny and racism, unless they develop the necessary critical thinking skills to understand their own suffering. And you know who thinks so too? bell hooks.

Often men, to speak the pain, first turn to the women in their lives and are refused a hearing. In many ways women have bought into the patriarchal masculine mystique. Asked to witness a male expressing feelings, to listen to those feelings and respond, they may simply turn away.

Since men have yet to organize a feminist men’s movement that would proclaim the rights of men to emotional awareness and expression, we will not know how many men have indeed tried to express feelings, only to have the women in their lives tune out or be turned off.

It is a form of abuse that this culture continues to deny. Boys socialized to become patriarchs are being abused. As victims of child abuse via socialization in the direction of the patriarchal ideal, boys learn that they are unlovable.

The patriarchal model that tells men that they must be in control at all times is at odds with cultivating the capacity to be responsible, which requires knowing when to control and when to surrender and let go. Responsible men are capable of self-criticism. If more men were doing the work of self-critique, then they would not be wounded, hurt, or chagrined when critiqued by others, especially women with whom they are intimate. Engaging in self-critique empowers responsible males to admit mistakes. When they have wronged others, they are willing to acknowledge wrongdoing and make amends. When others have wronged them, they are able to forgive. The ability to be forgiving is part of letting go of perfectionism and accepting vulnerability. At the same time, constructive criticism works only when it is linked to a process of affirmation. Giving affirmation is an act of emotional care. Wounded men are not often able to say anything positive. They are the grump-and-groan guys; cloaked in cynicism, they stand at an emotional distance from themselves and others. Affirmation brings us closer together. It is the highest realization of compassion and empathy with others. One of the negative aspects of antimale feminist critiques of masculinity was the absence of any affirmation of that which is positive and potentially positive in male being. When individuals, including myself, wrote about the necessity of affirming men and identifying them as comrades in struggle, we were often labeled male-identified. The women who attacked us did not understand that it was possible to critique patriarchy without hating men. Indeed, recognizing all the ways that males have been victimized by patriarchy (even though they received rewards) was a way of including men in feminist movement, welcoming their presence and honoring their contribution.

“in order to create loving males we need to love males” means teach boys that they can be themselves without being less of a man. it means being encouraging and nurturing of their emotions so they don’t become cold and hateful. it means showing boys, early in their lives, that they have value outside of what our society deems proper masculinity. what it doesn’t mean is that it’s our job to handhold men who see women as walking sex toys through the concept of empathy, and maybe if we’re really really nice to them and don’t say things that hurt their feelings they’ll stop killing us for saying no

[stuckinmymind22]

you say "i love you" first

ft: zoro, sanji, robin, ace, and shanks

gn!reader (minus zoro, sorry), mostly fluff, mostly sfw (shanks is a little bit explicit)

a/n: i just think this is cute idk

zoro

you say it first and he kisses you instead of saying it back, that leads somewhere and he’s more tender than usual and you know that is him saying “i love you too” finally says it back after several days when you’re alone and he mumbles it, you aren’t sure that you heard him so you ask him what and he comes and whispers in your ear “i said, i love you, woman” don't expect him to say it often though, the words from him are rare, no matter how many times you tell him that you love him. instead, zoro shows his love in his actions, one time he pulled out your chair for you at dinner and didn't say anything about it (was kinda awkward with it tbh), but the rest of the crew poked fun at him. he somehow always knows when there is something wrong with you, and although not the most emotionally aware he will listen to any of your problems as you talk through your emotions

sanji

he has definitely said it way too early in the relationship, said it a bunch then as you got serious he slowly stopped saying it bc now the words meant more/had more weight and he didn't want to scare you off when you do say it, immediate nose bleed, nearly cries, says it back right away. now that you said it this man is going to make declarations of love at least once a day, somehow he never repeats himself. would probably scream it from the mountain tops if he could tbfh

robin

she’s really confused, not that she doesn’t love you back but more in the “how could anyone love me” type of way. she remains speechless for far longer than you would like, when she does speak again it's to tell you that she isn't quite ready to say it back. naturally, you're devastated by this and you start to distance yourself a bit. that ends up being what she needed to admit her feelings. she probably tries her best to make some romantic gesture maybe just flowers or maybe she gets sanji (ever the simp) to make your favorite dinner. she's the type to be real quiet about her love, not to say that her love for you is unnoticed by outsiders, but she is not going out of her way to make it known like sanji

ace

you guys say it at the exact same time both of you are like awesome. he says it at the most random times, sometimes walking up to you while you are in a conversation to whisper "i love you" in your ear. he adores the way that those words always bring a massive smile to your face he's still a little insecure about himself, but each time you tell him you love him he starts to get more and more confident. he starts to become attached to your side (gets made fun of for it but he doesn't care), not that he wasn't before, but this was more

shanks

takes a while for feelings to develop beyond sexual (you both went in thinking it was just a hookup and that it was all it would ever be) it starts to become clearer that you both are in too deep. neither of you want to ruin what you have so you stay silent about it for far too long once, after you had sex, you bring yourself to admit it, completely out of breath. he’s lowkey stunned, doesn’t really know what to say, says “thank you doll” of course you get mad and he’s like “what i just said thank you, you know i love you too” and you’re like "i mean i figured but it would’ve been nice to hear 🙄" never being bothered by pda, he starts to become more brazen in his displays of affection, sometimes catching you as you walk by to pull you into his lap, regardless of who is around

[planetpedri]

hey queen! Could you do a angst of Pau cubarsi? Pau and reader having an argument before going to his family gathering. Pau’s sister noticed that reader is quite upset and talks with Pau about it. When they return home, they’ll talk about it and everything! 🫶🏼

Coming clean — Pau Cubarsí.

Pairing: Pau Cubarsí x Fem!Reader

Summary: An unresolved argument with Pau had ruined your whole night. Luckily for you, Irene is right there to help you get Pau to come clean.

Word count: 1.17k

Disclaimer/s: arguing , angst to resolved ending.

A/N: it’s 3:45 am and i can’t sleep so here is this! + hi Bea! how about you try to end a fucking post w out it ending in a kiss???🤦‍♀️

The car ride to Pau’s parent’s house was silent. No music, no talking, just pure and tense, silence. The lingering anger from the argument that had only happened ten minutes ago was still fresh.

Even when you arrived, at least a foot apart, you still hadn’t talked. You separated from each other instantly; Pau finding his cousins and you wandering around aimlessly.

Irene watched as you arrived, she could sense that something was off when instead of finding her or her parents, you milled around the food table.

She pushed off the counter she was leaning against and made her way towards you. When Irene called out your name, you plopped a grape into your mouth before turning to face her with a forced smile.

“Irene! Hi!” Your expression falters when you see the way she was looking at you—pity. “What?”

“Let’s go take a walk, yeah?”

Your eyes dart to Pau, who was busy conversing with his cousins. “Okay, yeah. Where to?”

Looking around, the girl points to the back door. “My mom’s flowers started to bloom, want to take a look?” Subtle. Very, very subtle, Irene.

Lips pulling into a thin line, you nod. Irene spins on her heels and marches her way towards the door. You pass Pau, but he doesn’t bother looking in your direction, though you knew he saw you by the tick of his jaw.

Trying not to scoff, you take a deep breath and follow Irene out the door. The spring air hits you comfortingly and the view of Mrs.Cubarsí’s flower garden brings a genuine smile to your face.

“It’s really improved since the last time I was here.” You comment, bending down to sniff one of the vibrant flowers.

Irene hums in agreement. “So, what happened with you and Pau?” When your head snaps in her direction, she chuckles. “Sorry, I just noticed you two were unusually distant and you looked upset.”

You let out a quiet, “oh!” Before you continue. “We argued. It’s a communication problem.” You wave your hand as if to dismiss the problem, but a butter taste lingers on your tongue.

“Okay… tell me about it? Pau is usually an open book, or at least, he used to be.”

You snort at the last part. “Used to be, yeah. Not anymore. For some reason, he’s been holding things back recently, and oh! Yesterday, I went to hold his hand and he—well, he pushed his hand back into his pocket.” You point at the house, though not directly to wherever Pau probably was. “Him avoiding affection? Not normal.”

Irene’s forehead creases in confusion. Pau had never, not once, refused to show you affection. In fact, he was always seeking it out. “Okay, yeah, weird. What did he say when you tried to talk to him?”

You couldn’t help but scoff, “he said that I was ‘reading too much into things’ and that I was, ‘being dramatic’. I’m staring to think—“ Your mouth clamps shut, you couldn’t say that.

Giving you a look, Irene urges you to continue. “Think..?”

“That he’s..” You run your hand over your mouth, “that maybe he’s falling out of love. It’s stupid, I know, but I can’t help but assume, y’know?”

Frowning, Irene nods in understanding. “He loves you, i’m sure of it. He’s just being difficult. Maybe you two should leave early, talk it out?” She pauses, “or I can give him a talking to.”

Your eyes widen, “no! No. Do not talk to him, i’ll figure it out. Just.. need to figure out what to say first.”

“Let’s go back to the party and you contemplate while we stuff our faces, perhaps?”

“That sounds like a brilliant idea.”

When the gathering was over and Pau was driving you back home, you play with the hem of your skirt. “Pau?” You speak quietly, not sparing him a glance.

Pau turns in your direction momentarily, offering you a short, “hm?”

“Can we talk.. please?”

No matter how upset, or annoyed Pau maybe be, he couldn’t resist the pleading tone in your voice. “I guess.” He answers, “what do you want to talk about?”

“Why you’re upset with me. I mean, before our argument. Clearly I did something to hurt you, or maybe you just..” Your voice fades into nothing, scared to speak.

“Just what?” He doesn’t comment on the parts before that, so you know you definitely did something wrong.

You pick at the lace harder, “I know it’s probably me reaching, but, I just thought that maybe you are like—“ You were tripping over words, too embarrassed to speak them out loud. Forcing yourself to come clean, you take a breath, “maybe you were falling out of love.”

The car lurches to a halt, right at a red light. Pau’s head whips in your direction, “what? No! Jesus, baby, no! Not that! I love you, I do.”

His words of reassurance made you feel a sense of relief, but still, your theories about upsetting him were only becoming easier to believe. “I love you too, but, my question still stands. What did I do to upset you, and how do I make it right?”

As Pau begins to drive again, he sighs. “The other day, when we were having dinner with the guys and their girlfriends, why did you lean away from me when I tried to kiss you?”

You did that?

Genuine surprise takes over your face. “Wait, what did I do? Shit, Pau, I didn’t even realize.”

His bottom lip tugs between his teeth as he turns into your driveway. “Are you sure? Because it felt intentional.” His words had bite to them, whether he meant to or not.

“Seriously, I would’ve never done that intentionally. Is that why you’ve been so withdrawn?” You frown, leaning your head back against the headrest and unbuckling while Pau parks.

He nods shamefully, “sorry, I just got upset. I was being a dick when I should have just talked to you about it. I’m sorry.” He couldn’t meet your eyes, to annoyed with himself to face you.

“Pau.” You sigh out, “look at me.”

He does just that, meeting your eyes with a pained look. “I’m sorry.”

“I know. You can’t do this again, though.” You give him a warning tone, “and you owe me, big time.”

Nodding, Pau grabs your hand, giving it a tight squeeze. “After my next game, we should go on a date. Anywhere you want to go, i’ll take you.”

Tapping your chin, you ponder the idea. “How about a movie night? I want alone time, and you will be watching every movie I chose, got it? Oh, and please bring snacks.”

A smile forms on Pau’s lips, causing one to grown on yours. “Anything you want. Make a list, i’ll stop by the store on the way here.”

Sitting up and gathering your things, you nod. “Will do! Goodnight, I love you.”

“Goodnight, I love you.” Pau leans over, meeting your lips in a soft kiss.

likes , comments , and reblog’s are all appreciated. lmk if you’d like to be tagged in future pau posts.

DTS , @halfwayhearted @ar4ujos @sakashq @joaoflms @hrts4havertz @spidybaby @unx100to !

[leupagus]

On Taash

I think one reason people keep pretending that Taash's character is badly-written is because they remind them of what they were like as a young adult: blunt, convinced that they were always right (and everyone else was stupid), and flailing around for an identity that didn't hurt. That often makes for an unpleasant person to be around, and someone who at times is even unlikable. But we never see the beam in our own eye while discussing the splinter in someone else's, so I think there's a certain degree of "well I certainly wouldn't yell at my mom like that!" (You would, honey. You would.)

IMO, Taash is one of the best-written companions in Veilguard precisely because they are thoughtless and callous and blow up at people for no reason at times. They're trying to figure their shit out! They got voluntold to work with the Veilguard without any warning, under a leader who's a complete stranger and alongside people she's never met and often has fundamental conflicts with. They've got an extraordinarily complicated relationship with their mom, who gave up her entire life and culture and place in the world out of love for them, but who withholds approval in a way that so many of us can relate to. They're confronting the wrongness of their old gender expression (woman), then embracing a new one (nonbinary) almost as soon as they learn about it—which is how a LOT of identity works, remember? Remember learning the term "trans" or "bisexual" or "genderfluid" and thinking oh shit that's me? It's relatable, but it's still uncomfortable as hell. Considering all that Taash has on their plate, including hiding a fundamental aspect of who they are (their dragonbreath), it's a wonder they're as stable as they are.

As for the conversations about their identity that people are claiming are "cringe" or "unrealistic"—my babies, I have listened to more people talk through their gender and sexuality journeys than you've had hot dinners, and let me tell you they often sound a LOT like Taash. That's not a bad thing! But it's like learning a new language—or heck, joining a new fandom—where you use the unfamiliar terms in clumsy ways and want to talk about it all the time, even to people who aren't fluent. (Taash talks about other shit too; yes, a lot of their quests touch on their gender, but a lot of them don't and frankly expecting someone who's only just figured themselves out to not talk about it is...kind of cruel. Of course Taash isn't a real person, but man I hope you people complaining about how often you have to "deal with" Taash's gender conversations don't have any friends who have trusted you with those conversations.)

Taash is extraordinary in so many ways—the way they talk to Spite directly like a kid who needs firm boundaries; the possible romance they have with [spoiler]; the nuanced and emotional way they talk about dragons; the way they care for birds and refugees and anyone else in their orbit, if they're allowed to. They are one of my favorite companions (although right now it's kind of a seven-way race between all of them), and I have snort-laughed at more of their lines than any other companion by a country mile.

It's just a shame that so many people saw a reflection of the more grating parts of their own personality and so decided that Taash is badly-written, instead of considering the possibility that they are simply badly-heard.

[homopopsie]

[Sif has been looking at you weird for a while...] "Isa." [CRAB!!!] "Uhh, Yeah Sif?" [He's looking straight at you, his eyes piercing you to your bones. He looks kinda creepy like this... Reminds you of all the times you found him reading late at night with his flashlight eye.] "You mind if we talk for a second? Alone." "UMM. YEAH SURE SIF." [CRAB CRAB CRAB CRAB CRABBBBBB] "Are you alright, Isa? I've noticed you doing some... things. You're acting more- There's really no other way to say it, Isa you've been acting dumb. Acting like you're just 'really lucky' whenever you find a key that we need. I know you, Isa. I know you aren't stupid. You're really smart actually, and I know something is up. So what is it? Can I help?" [CRAB CRAB CRAB WHY IS HE ASKING THIS NOW????] "What do you mean? I really have just been getting lucky?! I don't know how I would know where the keys are, I've never been here?!?" [You feel awful lying to them.] "Right. So you finding the switch to the Death Corridor trap instantly isn't something strange? You always trust me to handle traps, and yet you immediately put your hand out in front of me and stopped me before I could look around, and then hit the hidden switch. I know I only have one eye, but that was really well hidden." "But how would I know where it was beforehand? I just had a feeling."

"I don't know Isa, but I know that people with 'a feeling' still jump at massive falling rocks! And I know that people with 'a feeling' don't just nonchalantly strut into The King's chambers and talk before Odile gets a chance to talk to the man who froze her entire home. I know people with 'a feeling' don't grit their teeth hard enough to shatter. Don't act like nobody noticed that either, maybe the others didn't but I did." [!!!] "But, that'd be impossible, right? It's impossible to have been here before-" "Is it? Because you sure seemed to have a few theories! You knew to ask me about Wish Craft, to ask me to read those books! You knew that I could wish properly, you didn't have an inch of doubt on your face when you said how I taught you. You knew that a wish could have given The King the ability to harness Time Craft. Don't think I believed you when you said you didn't wish for anything. I know you're indecisive, but you aren't going to just ignore something I told you either. I know you wouldn't just listen to me tell you how to wish and not bother with it. You aren't callous. [If only he knew... If only he knew how callous you were!]

"I..." "Isa, I know you're not stupid. And you know I'm not stupid either. If I see something, the only thing I can do is observe for more. And all signs right now point to you. Did something happen? Is that... Is that why you're looping in time? Did-"

"Oh Siffrin... Why? Why did you have to figure it out now? Why couldn't you have figured it out before? Why couldn't you have never figured it out?" "Isa, I-" "Can't you see? It's too late now. Nobody can help, now. It's already too late. Because I was too much of a coward to try and ask for help. Because I was too much of a coward to tell anyone about the loops! Because I was too much of a coward to say anything! Because I was too much of a coward to tell you how I feel! Especially you, Sif. I'm too much of a coward to tell you how I feel about you. And I'll never get that chance. Because it's already too late. "..." [He's just staring at you with a scared expression. Or at least its probably scared. Whatever. It's too late anyway. You coward.]

"...So what is it? Can I help?" "Nope! Was that all?"

[Sif seems... sad, at your response.]

"Alright. I'll miss you Isa. Come visit me sometime on your travels, okay? It'd be a shame if I couldn't look at the stars another time with you."

Roleswap Sus event combos Everybody gets a turn being the suspect and the suspectee! Nobody enjoys the experience, though.

[whatifmommylovedyou]

Hi! I would like to request one where Agatha makes Reader ride her thigh

"I can feel how much you want it," Agatha whispers, and there's that familiar undercurrent of nastiness. She's looking up at you, her beautiful blue eyes keeping you pinned to the spot as her leg rises and falls beneath you.

You're straddling her, and she's made you keep your hands behind your back. She won't let you touch her, won't let you do anything but grind yourself against her thigh, through your pants and through hers. She's smirking at you, and if you squint you can JUST make out the little glimmer of purple in the back of her eyes.

You roll your hips forward - you're pressing the most sensitive part of your body against her leg, and the sweet pleasure is working its way up your back, dancing across your nerves. You're squeezing her leg between your knees, and Agatha gives the leg an occasional jiggle.

"Does that feel good?" She doesn't sound as if she's trying to dirty talk to you - she barely sounds like she's interested. Like you're just some little divergence before she gets down to whatever business it is she needs to do.

You nod desperately, sweat dampening your forehead, soaking into the armpits of your shirt. You squeeze your eyes shut and tilt your head back, and you can feel yourself jiggling with each grind. You're shaking as you get closer, and she just keeps watching you.

One of her hands goes to her brooch, and she's passing her thumb across the female figures carved on it. "Thank me for letting you get off on my leg," she tells you sharply.

"Th-thank you for letting me…" You trail off as she raises her leg up, forcing more of her leg against you, forcing the seam of your pants along you. You're shaking, your mouth falling open as you pant. "For letting me… get off on my leg."

"For letting you hump me like an animal," Agatha prompts, and she makes her leg go utterly still.

You whimper, a pathetic little noise in the back of your throat, and you try to push yourself forward. You go utterly still when she gives you a Look, fear waking up and feeding into the heat in the depths of your guts.

"For l-letting me…" A groan as she forces her leg back up. "For letting me hump you like… an animal." A deep, rough moan ripped out of you, and then you're leaning forward, your forehead against her shoulder in spite of yourself.

You can smell the ozone and skin scent of her, the fabric of her coat rough against your cheek. You sob, and you're trembling so hard your teeth are going to start chattering.

"Please," you whisper. "Agatha, please, I'm… I'm so close, I…"

"You're going to make a mess," she says dismissively, but she's still jiggling her leg, forcing you to ride her. "But you've already made a mess, haven't you? Making a wet spot on my nice clean pants. I should make you lick it up as a thank you for letting you come in the first place."

"Yes!" You gasp out. "yes, yes, I will, for you I'll do anything, I promise, I'll do anything you want Agatha, but please I'm just… I…"

Your orgasm forces its way out of you, a throbbing wet pulse that washes along your nerves, shivering under your skin. You sag against her, still leaning against her in spite of yourself.

And just for this moment… she's letting you.

[doeeyeseddie]

Piaaaaaa "brushing their arm against the other's, hoping the other would finally catch their arm and hold it close" please, we already know they constantly brush arms anyway!

fridaaaa this took me, once again, many months to get to and i sort of only vaguely filled the actual prompt, but i hope you still enjoy it <3

5+1 things, rated t, wc: 4k

[read on ao3]

I.

Eddie’s first day as a probationary firefighter is…interesting. Captain Nash welcomes him with the same warm smile he gave him the first time they talked, then leads him inside and shows him around the app bay.

“We’ll give you the full tour later,” he promises, “after you’ve met the rest of the team. You’re the first one here, if you want, you can change into your uniform now.”

He points towards the locker room – which has glass walls for some reason – and Eddie nods.

He’s just finished buttoning up his shirt when Captain Nash ushers a group of firefighters inside. Eddie runs a hand through his hair to make sure it’s tidy and smiles as Hen and Chimney introduce themselves to him with warm smiles and handshakes, welcoming him to the team.

There’s a third person with them, hovering in the background and glowering at Eddie. He’s young, probably around Eddie’s age, tall and very built, and despite his hostile expression, he doesn’t give Eddie the impression of being an asshole. It’s like the expression doesn’t fit on his face, like he’s not used to wearing it.

Chim grabs him by the arm and pushes him forward, giving Eddie a commiserating smile.

“And this guy is Buck,” he says. “He was our probie before you.”

“Nice to meet you,” Eddie says politely, stretching a hand out to offer a handshake. “You’ll have to show me how things work around here, then.”

Buck glowers down at his hand, and when he finally grabs it, he squeezes it too tightly, like he’s trying to prove something. Eddie squeezes back, amused by the pretense this guy is clearly putting on.

Behind Buck’s back, Hen rolls her eyes, but she’s also wearing a fond look, which only confirms Eddie’s assumption that Buck isn’t half as bad as he’s pretending to be.

From Captain Nash, he knows that they’re supposed to work together a lot of the time, so that’s gonna be interesting. He doesn’t know why Buck is acting like this, but he’s gonna find out, and then he’s gonna figure out a way to work with Buck anyway.

He didn’t come here to make friends, but he’ll be spending 50 hours a week with these people, and he has to trust them with his life for a lot of that time, so they at the very least need to bury whatever hatchet Buck is carrying right now.

Eddie lets go of his hand with a nod and a polite smile, and gives himself a week to figure Buck out.

II.

The days between the accident and the funeral are kind of a blur.

There’s too much to do and think about, too many decisions to make, too many people to call, too much to organize. He has help – Abuela, Pepa, the entire 118, but it still feels too much.

Shannon was 27, she didn’t have a will, they never talked about any of this. How is Eddie supposed to know how she would like to be buried, or if she’d rather be cremated? What kind of music she would want them to play at her funeral? This wasn’t supposed to happen. Not for a very, very long time.

But it did happen, and now Eddie is somehow supposed to know all this about her, his wife, the woman he’s only just let back into his and Christopher’s lives, the woman who asked him for a divorce and completely pulled the rug from under his feet just a day before she died.

Sometimes, he feels like he didn’t know her at all.

His parents are here “to help”, which should be a relief but really isn’t. They never liked Shannon and aren’t making a secret of it, even now that– now that she’s gone. So Eddie can’t involve them in the funeral planning, and he can’t even leave Christopher with them because he’s scared that they’re gonna take the opportunity to grab him and run, and someone needs to make sure that Shannon’s memory is honored, but she didn’t have any family except him and Christopher, and Chris is seven, so Eddie has to be the one to make this funeral beautiful, something she’d deserve, but he doesn’t know– there’s so much–

“Eddie,” someone says next to him, snapping him out of his spiral. “Come on, breathe with me.”

Eddie stares at Buck’s chest as it rises and falls with exaggerated breaths, trying to match him. When did Buck get here? He doesn’t remember letting him in, doesn’t really remember what he was doing before he started hyperventilating on his couch.

“Chris,” he gasps when he realizes that also means he’s not sure where his kid is. And of course he’s the kind of father who would do that only days after his kid lost his mom, maybe his parents are–

“Is with Hen and Karen,” Buck says firmly, grabbing his forearm. “He’s gonna spend the day with them and Denny, probably getting spoiled rotten. I borrowed Pepa’s key when we went over there so they could pick him up, she told me you might not open – sorry for barging in here, but I’m glad I did. I know you– I wanted to– Bobby and Athena are running interference with your parents. And I’m here to help you with all that.” He gestures towards the couch table that’s covered in forms, leaflets from funeral homes, and cards from grief counselors. “After Abby’s mom– I helped plan her funeral. So I’ve got some experience.”

Eddie just stares at him, biting the inside of his cheek hard to stop himself from crying. He trusts Buck, but he still doesn’t want to cry in front of him, doesn’t want to cry in front of anyone. But he does think that maybe he should give Buck his own copy of a key, so he won’t have to borrow Pepa’s next time.

Buck squeezes his forearm and gives him a small, sad smile. “We’re all here for you, Eddie. I got your back, remember?”

Eddie blinks against the tears in his eyes and swallows around the lump in his throat that’s keeping him from saying anything.

Instead, he twists his arm from Buck’s grip and grabs his hand instead, squeezing it in a silent thank you.

Buck squeezes back and keeps holding on.

III.

Buck gets to go home earlier than anyone expected, but Eddie has been to his new apartment, so he isn’t surprised when Buck texts him a picture of his couch with a sad face. It’s not ideal, but at least he has a bathroom downstairs and a girlfriend who can help if he struggles with anything.

Until he doesn’t have that girlfriend anymore.

Eddie doesn’t find out until after his shield ceremony, days after, actually, once his parents have finally gone home to Texas.

Buck says he’s fine, obviously, but Eddie starts going over every day he doesn’t have a shift anyway, because he knows Buck and can see how much he’s struggling with the whole situation, with the uncertainty of when and how he can return to work.

He brings Christopher most of the time. They’re not having the best summer either, Eddie still worries that he’s not doing enough to help Christopher deal with his grief, when he can barely keep his own head above the water of grief, guilt and fear.

Carla is doing what she can, watching Christopher whenever Eddie’s working, she found him a grief counselor and is even looking into more permanent therapists.

None of it changes the fact that they’re grieving. 

But when Christopher gets to hang out with Buck, he lights up every time, and so does Buck, which makes this a two birds with one stone kind of situation. Hanging out with Buck helps them both, too, makes their grief not the first thing on their minds for a little while.

Buck can’t move much, so they play board games and try to find one they all enjoy equally – it’s not easy, since Eddie likes luck-based games (he plays poker with his abuela and tía whenever he can), Buck prefers trivia and games relying on knowledge, while Christopher likes strategic games most.

But everyone gets to pick sometimes, and when they don’t want to play board games, they switch to video games instead.

Eddie knew that Buck and Chris get along well, they have ever since the first time they met, when Buck drove Eddie to Chris’ school after the earthquake during Eddie’s second week at the 118. But with how much time the three of them are spending together now, he can see them growing closer every day – and he loves it.

Buck is his best friend, and he genuinely cares about Christopher in a way that feels completely independent from Eddie.

One evening, while they’re playing a few rounds of Christopher’s current favorite video game after dinner, the kid falls asleep between them on the couch.

Buck smiles down at him and lowers the volume of the TV, which means he loses even more clearly to Eddie, but he had the win in the bag anyway, he’s sure.

Buck rolls his eyes at him when Eddie celebrates his victory with big, silent gestures, but he’s smiling, too.

Eddie grins at him, resting his arm on the back of the couch behind Chris, and Buck twists a little to face him. His leg, resting outstretched on the couch table in front of them, moves with him, and Eddie slides Christopher’s glass of water out of the way in a practiced move.

“I know you’re here to keep an eye on me,” Buck says, “and I should probably be annoyed. I– I was kind of annoyed, at first. But it’s hard to stay annoyed when he’s here, right?” He nods down at Christopher. “And I guess you’re okay, too.”

“Wow, thanks,” Eddie says, but he knows his glare isn’t convincing. “To be clear, we’re all keeping an eye on each other.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Buck reaches for Eddie’s hand, still on the backrest between them, and squeezes it – just for a moment, like he’s trying to get Eddie’s attention, like he doesn’t already have it anyway. “Thanks.”

IV.

Everything sucks.

It’s the uncertainty that gets to Eddie most, the not knowing how to help, how to stay safe, how to keep his loved ones safe. How long this is gonna last.

Every day, they have to see people die from a virus they know nothing about, and can’t do anything against.

And afterwards, they can’t even go home.

Christopher is part of a high risk group, and Eddie risks exposure at work every day, so obviously, he can’t endanger him by living with him. Chimney feels the same way about Maddie, and Hen also wants to keep her family safe, which is how the three of them ended up at Buck’s apartment, where they’ve been camped out for the past three weeks.

It’s generous of Buck to let them all stay with him, but the loft is not made for four people to live there, and they’re all feeling it.

Eddie loves his friends, but spending every minute of every day with them is starting to wear on him. They all try to give each other space, using the balcony as an extra room or going for runs outside, but there’s only so much they can do. 

He hates being separated from Chris, it makes him feel like he’s breaking his promise to never leave him behind again. Christopher says he understands, but Eddie worries anyway. He trusts Pepa, who’s working fully remote and offered to stay with Chris, and they talk every day, but it’s not the same as being there.

Whenever he talks to Chris on the phone, he feels better in the moment, but worse the second they hang up. While they’re talking, he can almost pretend that things are normal, but it all comes crashing down afterwards.

He hasn’t hugged his son in weeks, and he has no idea when he’s even gonna see him in person again.

Buck joins their calls most of the time, at least for a few minutes, and he sits next to Eddie on the bed now, shoulders slumped where they’re touching Eddie’s. In a world where he has to keep his distance from almost everyone, except the patients he’s treating and the people he’s living with, touching and being touched by Buck is a real comfort.

“This won’t be forever, Eddie,” he says, almost desperately. 

“But for how long?” Eddie asks, and it comes out sounding a little wobbly.

He’s not embarrassed by it anymore – Buck’s seen him in all kinds of situations, and they’re currently sharing a bed, so he’s seen him cry anyway.

“I–I wish I knew,” Buck says. “I wish I could– fix this.”

Eddie wipes at his eye and laughs a little. “The whole pandemic?”

“If I could, yeah.” Buck shrugs.

Eddie presses even closer to him for a moment, a gentle pressure of their shoulders, arms and thighs against each other. “I wish you could, too. But even if you can’t – I’m glad you’re here.”

“Of course.” Buck smiles at him and places his hand on Eddie’s thigh, palm up.

Eddie smiles back and grabs his hand, squeezing tightly.

“Okay,” he says, taking a deep breath. “I think it’s our turn to make dinner tonight – you ready?”

“Ready when you are,” Buck says, but he doesn’t let go until Eddie does.

V.

After Chris has gone to sleep, after Eddie has finally stopped crying, after Buck has wrapped his knuckles and cleaned up the worst of the mess in Eddie’s bedroom – the shards, the pieces of drywall, the fallen furniture, he makes up the couch for Eddie to sleep on. Eddie wants to help him, to tell him that he’ll just sleep in his room, but he can’t seem to move from his seat at the dining table.

Everything feels like too much, his hands hurt and his head worse, and he can’t stand the thought of Buck leaving. He’s exhausted, but he knows he won’t sleep if Buck goes home now.

But he can’t ask him to stay, not after Buck already dropped everything because Eddie couldn’t keep it together. He probably had plans, and Eddie ruined those too.

He can already feel the hot burn of tears behind his eyes again and drops his forehead onto his arms, folded on the table in front of him.

Buck’s hand lands on his back, warm, then travels up to squeeze the back of his neck gently.

“You ready to sleep?” he murmurs, and Eddie makes a noncommittal sound. “Come on, you must be exhausted.”

Eddie shrugs and Buck’s thumb brushes along his hairline.

“You don’t have to go in there, I can get you anything you need,” Buck says quietly. “And I’ll be right next to you in case you have a nightmare.”

“You’re staying?” Eddie asks, lifting his head. Buck’s hand stays where it is.

“Of course, Eddie,” Buck says, like it’s that easy.

And maybe it is that easy, Eddie thinks when they settle in next to each other in the living room, Eddie on the couch and Buck on a makeshift bed next to it. He’s pushed the couch table to the side to make room for it and it looks like he’s dragged Eddie’s mattress here, so at least Eddie doesn’t need to worry about him sleeping on the floor.

They’ve been by each other’s side through so much shit, maybe it’s not such a surprise that Buck wants to be here now too. He’s just not sure he deserves it.

“I’m sorry,” he says, staring up at the ceiling instead of looking at Buck. “You had plans– I’m sure you didn’t want to–”

“You have nothing to apologize for,” Buck says firmly. “Of course I’ll come whenever Christopher calls. O–or if you need me. I’m here, okay?”

“I keep thinking about her,” Eddie mumbles, pressing the heels of his hands to his burning eyes. “Mills. Last August– I should’ve– if I’d picked up the phone earlier–”

“This isn’t on you.” There’s rustling and then Buck is gripping Eddie’s forearms, trying to gently pull his hands away from his face. “I d-don’t know what Mills was going through, but I know that you couldn’t have known how bad it was. It’s sad, and it’s unfair, but it’s not your fault. And I know you’re feeling all these things now, but Eddie– I’m so happy you’re still here. I need you to– know that. Okay?”

Eddie finally lowers his arms, but instead of letting go fully, Buck just grabs his right hand and holds on. His eyes are wide and scared, and Eddie has scared too many people he loves tonight.

“Okay,” he says, even though– well. What makes him special? Why should he be the only one to get out? He’s not a better person than any of them, he doesn’t have a right to happiness or whatever he’s been deluding himself into believing he could have. 

But he knows that he can’t tell Buck that now (or ever), knows that it’s a dark road to go down.

Maybe for tonight, with Buck by his side, he can keep the thoughts at bay for a little bit longer. After that– he has no idea. But Buck is still holding his hand, and Eddie may not deserve him, but he trusts him.

He thinks it may just give him enough hope to get through this night.

+ I

“This was nice,” Buck says, holding the door for Eddie as they leave the restaurant. “You, uh, you really didn’t have to pay, though.”

“I wanted to,” Eddie says with a smile, glancing right towards their cars and then left to where the beach is only a short walk away, and finally back to Buck’s face, finding him already looking back. “How do you feel about taking a walk?”

Buck grins, turning left. “Let’s go.”

They’re not on a date, or at least they haven’t called it that, but Eddie has been thinking that it feels like one all night. Technically, they’re two friends trying out a new restaurant together. They drove here separately, no one pulled anyone’s chair out, they talked the same way they always do.

But Eddie spent half an hour picking something to wear tonight, Buck is wearing a shirt that looks new and gorgeous and fit for a date, and every time their eyes caught across the table, Eddie thought that maybe, Buck wouldn’t pull away if he reached out and took his hand.

It’s not the first time Eddie has thought that. Ever since Buck and Tommy broke up, it’s felt like maybe they’re heading towards something, familiar touches lingering and turning into something new, gazes catching and then holding instead of looking away.

Buck was upset for a little while afterwards, but he admitted to Eddie that it was more about another failed relationship – and his first one with a man, after he thought he’d finally figured out what was missing, than about Tommy as a person.

He went on a couple of dates, with men and women, but nothing ever stuck.

Eddie was going through his own stuff at the time – he eventually came out to Buck a week before Chris finally came home, and Buck hasn’t been on a date since.

Sometimes, Eddie wonders (hopes), if the two things are related.

Still, neither of them has called tonight a date – yet.

Eddie glances at Buck’s profile while they’re walking, and wonders what he’s waiting for.

Yes, it’s scary because Buck is the most important person in his life right after Christopher, but it’s also not, because this is Buck. Who has been by Eddie’s side through the worst, most painful, most humiliating times of his life, and is still here. Buck, who Eddie trusts with his life, and his son, and his heart.

Buck smiles at him and Eddie smiles back, heartbeat picking up. He’s doing this, he’s gonna tell Buck how he feels. Any minute now, he’s gonna be brave enough.

“Hey,” Buck says, “it’s just me.”

“I know,” Eddie says, and his heart thumps against his ribs. He lets his fingers brush against Buck’s on their next swing and watches as Buck bites his lip, smiling down at the ground. Hushed, like a confession, he adds, “Are you nervous, too?”

Buck looks back up at him then, eyes glittering in the dark. “Y-yeah. I am.”

They’ve reached the edge of the beach by now and bend down to take off their shoes without having to talk about it.

When they start walking again, they’re even closer than before, the backs of their hands, their elbows and shoulders all brushing with every step.

Eddie keeps stealing glances at Buck, and almost every time, Buck is already looking back.

There aren’t many people at the beach at this time of day, so they don’t come close to anyone else, and all they hear is the sand beneath their feet and the waves crashing a few feet away. The moon is big enough to be reflected on the sea, a beautiful sight, but Eddie still can’t look away from Buck for long.

“So, this is, uh, kind of romantic,” Buck blurts out after a few quiet minutes. “Right? I–I’m not misreading that?”

“No,” Eddie says. “I mean– you’re not misreading it.”

“But you’re nervous.”

When their knuckles brush again, Eddie stretches out his fingers and catches Buck’s, holding on. Buck’s own fingers tighten immediately, and it gives Eddie the last bit of courage he needs.

“Well, yeah. Buck–” He stops walking, and Buck follows, turning so he’s facing Eddie. He’s close enough that Eddie can see his expression despite the dark, and he looks terrified, hopeful, nervous and excited at the same time, all of which Eddie feels, too. Eddie takes a deep breath. “I’m nervous because– nothing…no one’s ever been this important.”

A smile spreads out across Buck’s face, slowly deepening the crinkles around his eyes. “So this was a date?”

“Did it feel like one to you, too?”

Buck’s smile widens. “Yeah, i–it did. And I’m–I’m nervous too, of course. Eddie, if we do this, there’s no going back for me. I can’t– lose you. You and Christopher, you’re too important.”

He pulls on Eddie’s hand a little, and Eddie takes another step closer, drops his shoes in the sand and places his free hand on Buck’s shoulder, thumb resting against his collarbone.

“It’s the same for me,” he says quietly. He shivers when Buck grabs his waist, the warmth of his hand seeping through Eddie’s shirt. “I– We don’t know what’s gonna happen. But, Buck– I love you. I love you so much, I have for…way longer than I was aware of it, and I just don’t see that going away. And I don’t think it’s fair to us to deny ourselves when I really think we could make each other– so happy. I know I can make you happy, and I want to prove it to you every day of my life, Buck.”

Buck is just staring at him with a dazed expression, his lips slightly parted, and Eddie suddenly can’t stand not kissing him for a second longer.

He slides his hand from Buck’s shoulder to the back of his neck, watches Buck’s eyes flutter shut and feels his fingers tighten on his waist, and then he’s finally, finally closing the distance between them.

Buck makes a soft sound against his mouth, like he’s still somehow surprised this is happening, but he gets on board very quickly, and Eddie stops thinking entirely.

When they pull back breathlessly, Eddie’s hair is a mess – he can feel the loose strands on his forehead – his lips are still tingling, and Buck’s got both arms wrapped around him tightly.

“In case that wasn’t clear,” Buck gasps, and lifts a hand to cup Eddie’s cheek. His thumb brushes over Eddie’s chin and caresses his lower lip, and Eddie presses a kiss to the pad of it. “I love you, too.”

[mountttmase]

Change Of Heart

The End - Part Six

Note - wow, I can’t believe we made it to the end 😭 thank you all so much for reading and for your kind words throughout. I really hoped you enjoyed this as much as I have and thank you again to Elisa for being so patient with me. I’d love to know what you all think and enjoyyyyy

Pairing - Mason Mount x Reader

Word count - 10.7k

Warnings - series contains angst & fluff

Day and night you thought about Mason. About what your life would be like if you got the guts to let him in and tell him how you really felt now but everytime you thought about it, you couldn’t bring yourself to do it.

Months passed and all you did was fall deeper and deeper for your best friend. Seeing him more often than ever didn’t exactly help the situation either but the fact the pair of you were so domestic just made it all even harder.

You were in a perfect routine with him. Home games with you both in his shirt when you could and away games if they were close by. Dinner together as a family at least twice a week with Mason picking up Gee from nursery every Wednesday to give you some time to yourself but you knew he liked taking her out for treats as well. So much so you pretend you didn’t see anything when she came back with chocolate ice cream stains down her dress as her happy smile made up for all of it.

You wondered if he’d maybe caught onto the fact your feelings had changed. It felt so obvious to you in the way you acted around him now as he made you so nervous and flustered, but if it was obvious then he didn’t say anything. He was still your typical kind and loving Mason and you were trying so hard to be his best friend.

You didn’t know what was holding you back. You were pretty certain he felt the same but it had been so long since you’d heard him say anything of the sort you’d managed to talk yourself into thinking that his feelings had vanished. What exactly did you have to offer him anyway? You were a single mum who was just about getting by when he could no doubt have any girl he laid his eyes on.

That didn’t make you feel any less for him, if anything as the months went by all you did was fall for him more. He made you feel happy and warm and filled your house with so much laughter and love that when he wasn’t around you felt lost. Even when he was by your side you still found yourself drifting off into your own imagination to think about what life would be like if you were an item and right now was no different.

You knew Mason was talking, but the piece of paper in your pocket was burning a hole through your jeans and it wasn’t long before he noticed you were in your own world and bumped your shoulder gently.

‘Y/n? You listening to me?’ He scolded lightly. Turning to face you and he must have picked up on the moody look on your face as his face dropped as soon as you caught eyes. ‘Y/n? What’s wrong’

‘It’s nothing-‘

‘No don’t do that’ he interrupted, placing his arm around your shoulders for a bit of comfort and you had to refrain from nuzzling yourself into him further. ‘You know you can tell me’

‘It’s Gee’s nursery’ you huffed. Figuring you may as well come clean. ‘They’re putting on a parents day thing for Christmas and… I don’t know, I'm just overthinking it too much. You know what this time of years like, it’s all gonna be about families and there’s gonna be all those kids with both parents there for them and-’

‘Stop it. You give Gee everything. You’re mum and dad rolled into one and Gee loves you, she thinks you’re a superhero’ he reassured you and you didn’t realise how much you needed to hear that from him until he’d said it. Your eyes filling with tears as you hid you face away again to take some breaths but he held you the whole time.

‘Will you come? To parents day?’ You asked. His eyebrows shooting straight up in shock but you just sent him a reassuring smile. ‘I know it’s a bit of a weird ask but she’s actually invited you’ you laughed, looking at his confused face as you pulled the invitation out so he could see his name written on the front under yours in Gee’s best attempt at writing. ‘If you’re busy it’s fine but she’s written your name and everything’

‘Well how can I say no to that huh?’ He laughed and you could tell he was a little emotional about it as his eyes became glossy. ‘I reckon if we asked Woody over we could recreate that picture’ he laughed, trying to mask how emotional he was with a joke. ‘Where is Gee anyway? I’ll go tell her I’m coming’

‘Watching tv, she said she had a long day and needed to unwind’ you told him, rolling your eyes at her sass and he quickly placed a kiss on your head before going to join her.

You joined them too not long after. Laughing as they were both laid on their bellies with their faces in their hands so they could watch tv together and it struck you how alike they were. You always thought Gee could pass as Masons own child but having had him be around consistently for well over a year now they were like little twins.

'Do you wanna stay for dinner?' You asked him, brows raised as you looked over to him but there was an expression on his face you'd never seen before and it made your tummy drop.

'Oh um I can't, I've got plans already' he nodded. Sitting up to face you and scratching the back of his neck as he looked to the floor so you decided to play dumb and see what he said in hopes you could confirm your suspicions.

'Oh, is Woody visiting? You didn't tell me'

'No, it's um… it's no one you know' he shrugged and you knew he was never going to come out with it so you decided to call him out.

‘Wait a minute, are you going on a date?' You asked him and his face told you everything you needed to know. A sinking feeling in your tummy at the realisation but you made sure you kept it together.

'I date, I just don't broadcast it everywhere’ he laughed. Your mind reeling and trying to think back when he may have been out before with someone without you knowing but you shut it off quickly. Not liking how you felt when thinking about him with another girl but thankfully he didn't let you dwell on it as he stood up and gathered his things. 'I better go, I need a shower and everything. Are you alright?'

'Yeah fine, sorry um, have a nice time, yeah? Good luck’ you spluttered, trying to look busy so he couldn't see the heat travelling up your neck but his hand on your wrist made you stop in your tracks.

'Thanks love' he smiled, kissing your forehead quickly just like always but all you felt was sadness.

The rest of the evening went by slowly. You and Gee getting into your pjs after dinner so you could watch some Disney films under a blanket but you couldn’t focus on anything for too long. Thoughts of Mason and who he might be with filled your mind and you’d never felt more miserable.

If he was going out on dates then he’d clearly moved on and left his feelings for you in the past. It's not like you could blame him, you’d never given him a sign that you wanted anything more and he’d waited long enough. He deserved to be happy but it was tearing you apart that it wouldn’t be you that could give him what he needed now.

You were up and out early the next morning as you were meeting Ell for breakfast but you saw the way her face changed with just one look at you. Waiting until Gee and Tommy were in their respective seats before she dived in.

‘What’s wrong?’ she asked carefully but you didn’t know what to say. She’d guessed a few months back that your feelings had changed for him a little bit but knew you weren’t ready to do anything about it and never pushed you. Right now you wished she’d had though and as you were still feeling just as miserable.

‘Mason, he’s um… he went in a date yesterday’

‘Okay?’ She breathed. Looking at you questioningly as if she couldn’t understand what the big deal was and you knew you’d have to explain further.

‘I don’t know, I just feel weird about it. He’s never told me before but I bet he’s been on loads. I mean look at him of course he has’ you sighed and you felt your eyes sting the more you thought about him with someone else.

‘Oh babe’ she pouted. Reaching over and taking you hand and as much as you didn’t want Gee seeing you upset you couldn’t seem to hold it together.

‘I’ve missed my chance haven’t I?’ You croaked. Using you other hand to quickly wipe your cheeks so your tears went as quickly as they came.

‘Not necessarily. You said he was just on a date right? That could be anything, it’s probably just a first date’ she tried to reassure you but your mind was already reeling.

‘Yeah but it could also be a third or a fifth or maybe he’s actually got a girlfriend and they’re in bed right now and she gets to kiss him and do all the things I should be doing’ you spiralled and before you knew it you were snatching your hand away from hers and grabbing your phone out of your bag. ‘That's it, I’m calling him’

‘Y/n, no! You can’t’ Ell cried out. Reaching for you phone and somehow snatching it from your hand before you’d even realised.

‘Why not?’

‘Whatever he’s doing he’s allowed to do! He’s single okay, don’t ruin it for him’ she told you and it’s like her words were a slap to the face.

She was right. He wasn’t yours anywhere else but in your own head so if he was in bed with someone else right now then it didn’t matter how much it was tearing you apart. He was well within his rights to see whoever he wanted and it made you feel like crap to think about. This was your own doing though and when you looked up to Ell she was looking at you sympathetically.

‘Look, i think you need to tell him how you feel’

‘I can’t’ you croaked, your emotions attempting to get the better of you but you swallowed them down as best you could.

‘You can, okay? This has gotten way out of hand like you can’t be trying to jeopardise his dates and keep tabs on him if you’re not going to tell him what’s going on in your head. So you either tell him how you’re feeling and move forward or you keep quiet and leave him be’ she told. ‘I’m sorry for the tough love babe, but I just want you to be happy and I know that Mason would give you the world if you just asked’

‘I don’t know, I’ll think about it’

‘Well I’m keeping hold of your phone until we’re done’ she winked and even though you knew she was being serious you knew she was trying to make you laugh.

You didn’t hear much from Mason over the next few days. You knew he was busy in recovery whilst also trying to get a few personal projects off the ground but you also didn’t feel like you could message him. Pulling yourself back from him a little bit as you were feeling awkward and sad about the whole situation but you knew deep down you were just incredibly jealous.

It got to the point where you weren’t sure if he was even coming to Gee’s performance anymore but as soon as you’d got in from work you felt your phone buzz and Masons name pop up on your screen.

The thought of seeing him the next day filled you with mixed emotions and you couldn’t tell if you were excited or completely terrified. One the one hand you knew you’d have to hear all about his date and how well it went but you but on the other hand you had missed him to the point you didn’t care and just wanted to be around him.

You dropped Gee off early so they could get her into her costume and asked Ell to save you two seats whilst you waited outside for Mason. He was taking a while though and you thought you might have to abandon him soon so you didn’t miss anything but as soon as you turned back to the door his voice rung through the car park.

‘Hey sugar’ you suddenly heard from behind you and when you turned to face him, he pulled you straight into a hug before you could even look at him.

‘Sugar?’ You laughed but he didn’t explain himself. Just held you tighter and buried himself into your neck. ‘I was beginning to think you’d be late’ you told him, pulling back and budging his shoulder but the ever persistent cheeky smile he gave you made you smile back just as wide.

‘Couldn’t find anywhere to park, I've been walking for about ten years’ he joked. Slinging his arm around your shoulder and kissing your forehead before his eye landed on the two huge Christmas trees dangling from your ears. ‘Nice earrings’

‘I’m just trying to get into the spirit of things’

‘Well you look great. Makes me look under dressed but I thought it was best I keep things on the down low’ he winked before his face turned a little more serious. ‘I’m sorry if I’ve seemed a bit off, I really wanted to be completely free today for Gee so I had to move some things around but you’ve got me uninterrupted for the rest of the day’

‘That’s okay, you don’t need to explain’ you told him but he just shrugged as he let you go so you could walk into the main reception.

‘I know, but I’ve missed you. I haven’t even had a second to think about anything else but work but it’s like now I’m back with my favourite people’

‘I’ve missed you, too’ you whispered. It hitting you then that you really had and now you knew he had the rest of the day free you thought you’d make sure you could spend as much time as you could with him. ‘Maybe after all this is over you can come back and we can catch up a bit more?’

‘Did you even need to ask’ he laughed.

Mason helped himself to the complimentary mince pies on the way into the hall before sending you a wink. Letting you lead him over to the two seats so he could say hello to Ell and Noah before you got settled for the show to begin.

‘So how was your little date the other night?’ You asked before you even realised what you’d said and you wished you could take it back. You didn’t want to know about him and any other woman but you couldn’t turn back time now. Not even having the courage to look at him as he answered but you knew he wasn’t looking your way either.

‘It was fine’ he shrugged.

‘Just fine?’

‘Yeah’

‘Wow Mase, say how you really feel’ you laughed sarcastically, your eyes flickering over to him for a second and you could see his cheeks were bright red and he was biting back a smile.

‘Fine, you wanna know how it really went?’ He asked, turning towards you in his seat as he wrapped his arms around the back of your chair and as much as you wanted to say no you didn’t.

‘Yes’ you whispered.

‘She didn’t stop talking, like non stop to the point she was talking whilst she ate and she accidentally spat pasta into my eye’

‘Oh Mase’ you giggled. Finally turning to look at him as you covered your mouth with your hand but he just rolled his eyes as he squeezed your shoulder.

Has he always been this gorgeous? you thought. His bright brown eyes full of warmth as he looked down at you and you could feel yourself blushing under his stare.

‘So yeah, that’s how it went’

‘Safe to say you won’t be seeing her again?’

‘Safe to say I won’t be seeing anyone again, at least not for a little while anyway. She’s traumatised me. The only other person I’ve seen that Messy with pasta is Gee’ he grumbled. Turning back in his seat as the lights were dimming and the show was almost about to start.

You felt a weight lift from your heart immediately knowing there was no other woman you had to worry about now but the reality finally settled in that you would have to let him know how you felt before another came along. He’d mentioned that he didn’t want to date but you didn’t know if he was being serious or not and figured you better tell him while you had the courage.

You noticed Gee as soon as she stepped out on stage in her Giant Christmas tree costume but you could tell straight away she couldn’t see you. Her eyes frantically searching the crowd as her bottom lip dropped in fear you might not be there but it was Mason who made himself known. Standing up and waving his arms whilst calling her name and she found him within an instant.

You thought Mason had wanted to be inconspicuous today from the way he was dressed and what he’d said earlier but that had clearly gone out the window as he’d just announced himself to the whole room so Gee wouldn’t get upset thinking you weren’t there for her.

It was the most adorable thing you’d ever seen, the look of relief washing over her face which quickly turned to excitement as she waved back at him before blowing multiple kisses to which he returned. A chorus of quiet awwws ringing out through the room as she continued to blow kisses to the whole crowd so after you’d given her a wave to let her know you were here too, you pulled Mason back down to sit next to you and he gave you a shy smile.

‘What happened to being on the down low?’ You laughed but he just pursed his lips with a smile and shrugged his shoulders.

‘Yeah that’s gone out the window a bit hasn’t it. I won’t have my baby girl being upset though, so it was worth it’ he told you but he must have caught onto the shocked expression on your face and knew he needed to explain a bit further. ‘I know she’s not mine, but she sort of is’

‘Sometimes I think she’s like your double’ you smiled at him. Thinking back to them sat watching tv together the other day but you didn’t have a chance to say anything else. The sound of rocking around the Christmas tree blaring through the speakers and suddenly everyone was silent.

You could barely see what Gee was doing through the tears that were welling in your eyes. It was a dance she’s been practising at home with you for weeks but to see her front and centre shaking her stuff as she sung her heart out made you feel like the proudest mum in the world and when Mason slid his hand into yours and squeezed it to offer you some comfort, you held on tightly.

It had been a long road to get here. Long nights of uncertainty of whether you were doing the right thing by becoming a single mum and moving hundreds of miles away from anyone you knew but it was moments like this that made you realise it was all worth it. She was the most important thing in your world, a reason for you to get up in the mornings and carry on and you knew as long as you had her you’d always have everything you’d always dreamed of.

Once all the theatrics were over about an hour later there was time for all the parents to chat but you mostly stuck with Ell as the pair of you didn’t really know any of the other mums, and you let Noah and Mason grab you all some drinks whilst you waited for all the kids to come out.

You knew all eyes were on Mason, and you knew he knew that too. Standing right by your side with his cap on low to hide his face but that was all out the window when Gee came back. Chucking her up in the air until she was giggling like a maniac and it wasn’t long before the first dad came over with their son to ask Mason for a cheeky autograph and a selfie.

‘Are you sure this is a good idea?’ You asked, watching a mini queue form but he just shrugged as he turned to you with a big smile.

‘Probably not, but I hate saying no’ he told you and thankfully it didn’t take too long to get through everyone. The four of you deciding to head out and back yours for some food and you watched with a soft expression as Mason walked the kids back to your car with one on each hand.

As Mason was parked a road or two away he let you know he’d meet you back home and dashed off but as you reached for Gee, Ell stopped you.

‘I’ll take, Gee. You need to talk to him’ she told you firmly and you knew she was right.

‘I will’ you nodded. Quickly putting Gee’s car seat in Ell’s car and telling her you’d come and get her later but she seemed excited about going to Tommy's house for a bit.

You were full of nerves the whole ride back, trying to think about what you wanted to say but the ride was short and sweet and all you felt was an overwhelming sense of nerves by the time you got back.

‘Hey, where’s Gee? And I thought they were all coming back here?’ Mason asked as you got out of the car. He was lent against his own but he followed you up to the front door whilst you frantically thought of an excuse as to why you were on your own.

‘Oh um… Gee was kicking up a fuss about ice cream and wanting to see Ell’s Hamster so she’s taken her for a couple of hours with Tommy. Thought maybe we could finally have a bit more of a catch up like we said?’ You offered and he sent you a nod as his cheeks reddened.

‘Okay, yeah. Let’s do it’ he smiled shyly. Letting you lead him into the house before ushering him into the living room whilst you got him a drink.

You used the time you were in the kitchen to calm yourself down a bit. This was Mason you thought to yourself and when you made it back to the living room he was looking at you with a huge smile as he waved his phone in the air.

‘You fancy a cheeky maccies? I didn’t have lunch I’m bloody starving’

‘Go on then’ you laughed. Taking his phone from him so you could add your order and before long you were chatting away as you shoved nuggets in your mouth. Thankfully the pair of you kept away from the whole dating topic and just spoke about upcoming plans and how he’d been playing recently after another short spell out but thankfully he was in good spirits about it all.

‘I fancy a coffee, you want one?’ You asked him after you finished off your last fry and he was nodding his head as he shoved the last in of his own so you quickly tidied up and made your way to the kitchen to make you both one. It suddenly hitting you that you hadn’t spoken about what you’d meant to as you were so caught up in just being together so you used the few minutes the kettle was boiling to think about how you were going to broach the subject.

‘What you watching?’ You asked as you walked back in with his coffee. Placing it down on the coffee table before taking a seat next to him and when he wrapped his arm around you and pulled you into his body you just went with it. Cuddling up with him on the sofa and he scrubbed the video back to the beginning.

It was a video of Gee from earlier, right at the front singing her song and doing her little dance and you felt your eyes sting again at how proud you were of the tiny human you’d created.

‘She’s so funny, I still can’t believe I cried through the whole thing’

‘That’s why I thought I better record it, thought you wouldn’t be able to see much through all the tears in your eyes’ he laughed but you just patted him on the chest playfully.

You both sat and laughed at how into it she was, cuddling into Mason like you couldn’t get close enough and when you looked up at him as the video finished his lips were merely an inch from yours.

The air shifted within a nanosecond. Time suddenly standing still as he froze in front of you and you did the only thing you wanted to and pushed up slightly. Placing your lips on his in a gentle kiss before pulling back to gage his reaction but he hadn’t moved. He didn't kiss you back but you didn’t exactly give him a chance to and he wasn’t backing off so you leaned in again in hopes this time he’d reciprocate. Thankfully after a beat or two he did and as you both sighed into each other's mouths you deepened the kiss even further.

It was like any sense of anything left your bodies as you kissed each other. Your free hand holding his jaw as he kissed you back softly and you thought you might have died and gone to heaven. Not believing yourself that this was the first kiss the pair of you had ever shared and your tummy was fluttering with how gentle he was being with you. Both lost in each other as you wondered what had taken this long to get here but soon you didn’t have time to think for too much longer. Feeling Mason pulling away and she shook himself out of whatever trance he was in and you felt all the blood in your body rush to your cheeks.

‘Shit, sorry y/n I-‘

‘No don’t be sorry, it wasn’t you. I kissed you first’

‘Yeah but I shouldn’t have kissed you back’

‘Why?’ You breathed, confused as to why he seemed so upset with himself but he was now looking back at you just as confused.

‘Cause you don’t want this’ he told you, speaking to you like he was talking to a crazy person. ‘You’ve told me this isn’t what you want so many times-‘

‘I was wrong, I do want this’ you cut him off, sitting up properly so you could finally speak to him properly about your feelings but this wasn’t how you expected it to be coming out or for him to be looking back at you.

Shocked? Maybe. But horrified? This wasn’t on your list.

‘What? I don’t… what do you mean?’

‘I was just confused, I’ve wanted you and us for the longest time I swear. I heard you talking to Gee when she was a baby and telling her how you still loved me and-‘

‘What? That was years ago’

‘I know, and I’ve been thinking about it for years’

‘You knew and you didn’t say anything? He asked, his voice easing slightly but you knew it was just because he was upset with you.

‘Mase please just listen’ you pleaded. The hurt across his face was unbearable and you wanted to reassure him in some way but you were so flustered you couldn't get anything out properly. ‘You’re my best friend, yeah? Always have been but hearing you still loved me, like after all this time still, it just made me wonder what life would be like if things were different and somewhere along the way I got confused like you’re so good with Gee especially after Jack left you really held us all together and you’re always there for her-‘

‘So because I’m good with Gee you think that’s enough?’

‘No, not at all Mason that’s just an extra-‘

‘So what then? Are you confused?’ He cut you off and you’re starting to get frustrated at how he kept batting you away.

‘No Mase’ you huffed, wishing he would just listen but you understood why he wasn’t.

‘Well what is it?’ He demanded. His voice desperate as he moved himself away from you and you felt your heart plummet as he moved to stand on the other side of the room.

‘Will you let me just talk? You know how much I hate being interrupted’

‘Let me guess, Jack always did the same?’ He scoffed and you were confused as to why he’d bought him up even if he was right.

‘Well yeah he did, and I don’t need you doing the same’

‘Why do you always fucking do that?’ He exploded and you were taken aback by the way he was being. He’d never once spoken to you like this before and whilst you knew you had nothing to be afraid of in anyway it still shocked you.

‘Do what?’

‘Comepare me to him all the fucking time?’

‘I don’t-‘ you defended but it was no use. Mason was furious and ready to give you it with both barrels.

‘You do!’ He insisted even louder. ‘Apart from what we’ve got between our legs I’m nothing like him and you know it’

‘Mase-‘

‘When he left, who picked up the pieces and expected nothing in return, huh? It was me, yeah? It was me and I’ve looked after you and Gee like she was my own ever since just for you to tell me I’m the same as the scumbag that never deserved you? Who left at the first sign of a struggle. It was me that stepped up, me that took care of everything, of you, and you take every chance you get to tear me down’

‘Mase please’ you sobbed. Wanting him to calm down a bit so you could talk rationally but every word that came out of your mouth seemed to just wind him up more.

‘And now you wanna tell me you wanna be with me? You’ve known how I’ve felt about you this whole fucking time and you’d stayed silent. Why now huh? Why have you strung me along for so long? so I can babysit?’

‘That’s not it-‘

‘What is it then? I’m good with Gee and you think that’s all it takes for us to work? You didn’t say one thing about me, it was all about what I can give to you’ he carried on. Getting more wound up with each word that came out of his mouth and you had no idea how to stop him now.

‘Mason please, I got confused’ you whimpered and even though he’d stopped shouting you could see he wasn’t done yet. Expelling all the air from his lungs in a shaky breath before sliding his hands over his face and you wondered what he was about to hit you with next but to your surprise his voice was much quieter yet more emotional.

‘I’ve loved you for as long as I can remember y/n’ he croaked and you felt your heart shatter as his bottom lip wobbled. ‘Everytime i see you I can feel it and it’s torn me apart that you’ve never felt the same’

‘Thats what im trying to tell you though, i have, I do feel the same Mason, I just couldn’t tell you’

‘Why not ?’ He demanded, but you didn’t have an answer for him. Not a reasonable sounding enough one anyway but Mason was coming to his own conclusions as he looked at you. ‘Is this because I went on a date the other night?’

‘No-‘

‘It is, isn't it? You thought you had me wrapped around your finger but now you know i'm not you’re saying you like me so I don’t leave you’

‘Will you just stop-‘

You were cut off by your phone ringing in the side, looking down to see it was Ell and you knew you had to answer so you quickly cleared your throat before picking up in hopes you’d sound as normal as possible.

‘Hey Ell, everything okay?’

‘Yeah fine, I think little miss is getting tired though, I think it’s best you come get her’

‘Of course. I won’t be long, okay?’ You told her but before you’d even hung up Mason was already making his way to the door.

‘I’ll go, I need some air’ he told you, leaving before you could say anything else and once you were finally alone you let yourself fall to the sofa and let your emotions out properly.

Even in your worst case scenario in your head you never envisioned this happening. You figured he’d be somewhat confused and a but unsure at first but the pure rage coming from him was so out of character and you weren’t sure what the future held for the two of you now.

You knew Mason could tell you’d been crying when he got back. Placing Gee on the floor so she could run to you and you scooped her up and held her close whilst Mason shuffled uncomfortably at the door.

‘Listen, I’m gonna head off yeah. Let you put Gee to bed’ he nodded quietly and you felt your heart sink.

‘Oh’ you breathed, wondering why he didn’t want to stay and talk things through, especially after how upset you clearly were but you just nodded and placed Gee back on the floor. ‘Go say goodbye to Uncle Masey and we’ll get ready for a bath, yeah?’

Your heart broke as he placed little kisses all over her face, her giggles filling the hall as he told her he’d see her soon before nudging her back to you.

‘I’ll um, I’ll see you soon then’

‘Okay’ you whispered, unable to look at him so you picked Gee up and made your way up the stairs without another look at him. Your tummy dropping when you heard the door shut a few moments after and you knew he’d gone.

Gee was quiet as you got her bathed and ready for an early night. Not sure if it was because she was tired from the days events or she could tell you were upset but you were thankful that she wanted to go to sleep now even if she was being a little clingy. You stayed with her though until she was fully out but all you were thinking about was Mason and how you’d both move on from here.

That would have to wait for now though. All you could think about was the chocolate cake in your fridge that you’d saved for a moment alone so when you were certain Gee was definitely fast asleep, you gently kissed her head and made your way down the stairs and into the kitchen.

‘Fuck!’ You squealed. Hands clutching at your chest as your heart threatened to burst free. The sight in the corner of your eye making you do a double take before you were jumping out of your skin. ‘What the fuck, Mason’

‘Sorry’ he whispered. Standing by the fridge with his arms crossed over his body and you noticed he hadn’t looked directly at you once.

‘How did you get back in? I never heard you’ you asked, gulping to try and readjust your breathing as inconspicuously as you could but it didn’t really matter as his eyes were still trained on the floor.

‘I never left in the first place’ he told you and you realised that when you heard the door shut earlier he never actually left but had simply shut the door and waited downstairs for you.

He’d stayed for a reason, but you weren't quite sure if he knew what that was. Clearly he wanted to talk but right now he had his arms still crossed over his body and his head down as he looked at his shoes but you could tell he was chewing on his bottom lip which meant he was trying to keep his emotions in.

All you wanted to do was comfort him. Not sure if he wanted you close to him but you pushed that to the side and slowly made your way over to stand right in front of him.

He didn’t move a muscle, just kept his eyes down as you waited for him to look at you, but you knew he wouldn’t without a little encouragement so in the end you held him at his jaw and tilted his head up so he’d finally look at you. The tears welling in his eyes made your heart ache and all you wanted was to reassure him and let him know you were serious.

‘I’m so sorry, Mase’ you whispered, your tummy dropping as he shut his eyes and his tears spilled over. Wiping them away as quickly as you could before uncrossing his arms and placing them around your waist in hopes he’d hug you and once your arms were around his neck he pulled you in as close as he could.

‘I’m sorry for shouting at you’ he whispered. His voice full of tears as he spoke into your neck, but you just shook your head to let him know it was okay.

‘It’s okay, i probably deserved it’

‘No you didn’t, I just… I’m so confused’ he told you, peeling himself away so he could look at you properly and you hated the way he looked so vulnerable.

‘Shall we talk then? Talk properly and figure it all out?’

‘Okay’ he nodded and you took his hand to lead him back into the living room so you could talk. The smell of your untouched coffees from earlier still hanging thick in the air as you tried to clear your mind of all the angry words he’d thrown your way not too long ago but you could tell he was in a completely different mind set now. The anger subsided and vulnerability in its place and you just prayed you could finally get your thoughts together and tell him how you felt properly.

‘I’m a bit nervous’ he chuckled. Making sure you were comfy on the sofa as he tucked you into his side and you smiled up at him as you were feeling the exact same.

‘Me too. I don’t really know where to start’ you laughed and even though he’d clearly calmed down and wanted to talk you still didn’t want to set him off again.

‘You said you heard me talking to Gee once? What did you hear?’ He asked quietly but he could see you were nervous to talk so he took your hand and squeezed it gently. ‘It’s okay, you can tell me. I’m not gonna have a strop again I promise’ he chuckled and you felt your shoulder relax.

‘It was when she called you dada for the first time and you told her you weren’t but you wished you were’ you whispered, watching him recall that moment in his head but thankfully he was still smiling softly. ‘That you loved us and that it hurt knowing I was your person but I didn’t see it’

‘I see’

‘That’s not when I realised my feelings had changed though’ you confirmed and you noticed his brows furrow in confusion.

‘When was it?’

‘When you stayed with us that week before you moved into your house and you told me I had to share you with Gee‘ you laughed. ‘It just slapped me in the face that I don’t want to share you with anyone. And then her second birthday party you were just perfect and it made me feel all this new things for you that I never had’

‘That was over a year ago, love. Why the change of heart? Why tell me now?’ He asked quietly and you could tell he was in a completely different headspace to earlier.

‘Cause you were right’ you wept, using your free hand to dry your eyes so you could carry on talking sensibly but you were finding it hard to hold it together. ‘I didn’t like the thought of you going on a date the other night and I almost called you the morning after thinking you were still with her in hopes I could ruin it but Ell stopped me. I know how it sounds, I know. But it’s not me messing you around or keeping you wrapped around my finger. I’ve just had enough of keeping things to myself when I know we could be happy together’

‘I just don’t get why you haven’t said something before. I thought we told each other everything’ he told you sadly and you knew you had to just be open with him.

‘I was scared’

‘Of what, love?’

‘That you’d react like you did’ you laughed and even though he was smiling back you could tell he was still feeling guilty about it all. ‘Plus when you were talking to Gee that one time you told her you’d try to move on and I didn’t want to make an idiot out of myself just in case you had’

‘All you had to do was tell me and I would have been yours from that very second’ he told you matter of factly but you didn’t like the way he was using the past tense.

‘Does that mean you won’t be now?’ You pouted. Eyes full of tears that you’d waited so long to come clean but he just smiled at you softly and pushed the hair out of your eyes so he could see you better.

‘Why do you think I'm here, love?’ He asked quietly but you just shrugged as you looked down to your lap. Tears spilling down your cheeks but he was quick to hook his finger under your chin and make you look at him again. ‘I think about you, and what we could have, every fucking day’ he whispered. ‘I’ve loved you since we were kids, that’s not something I can just throw away and move on from’

‘I know it’s taken me a while to realise it but I love you too, Mase. I really do’ You gulped. ‘I’ve never felt like this about anyone before and I’ve never felt how you make me feel before’

‘What do you mean?’ He asked. Trying to contain his smile at the fact you’d just told him you loved him but he needed more from you clearly.

‘When Jack left me… well I’d never felt so ugly in my whole life. I hated everything about myself you know, like no matter what I did I was never enough’ you told him. ‘But you’ve always made me feel beautiful’

‘That’s cause you were. You are beautiful, y/n. So so fucking beautiful’ he whispered as he pulled you further into his lap and you were so close now your noses were touching as you spoke.

‘I think there’s this part of me that’s felt like I’ve never deserved you. You’re you, you know? And I’m a mess. A single mum who’s just about getting by like what do I have to offer you?’

‘Don’t ever say that again’ he whispered. Cutting you off as he cupped your jaw and stroked your cheeky softly. ‘You deserve whoever you want and whoever makes you happy. And I know I will do everything I can every single day to make you happy’

‘I know you will, you already do. This last year has driven me insane’ you laughed. ‘I don’t know how you’ve done it for so many years’

‘Well they say If you love someone you set them free. And if it’s meant to be you’ll find your way back to each other. We always find our way back no matter what happens right? That's got to count for something’ he told you and before you knew it the ghost of your favourite cheeky smile was adorning his lips. ‘You try and put 240 miles between us and i will hunt you down’

‘Well when you say that…’ you laughed, trying to pull away from him as a joke but he was having none of it. Pulling you in even closer so he could kiss your cheek and the feel of his lips on your hot skin made you shiver.

‘I really am sorry for earlier, I didn’t mean to go off like I did. I think I was just in panic mode and it’s been hard on me too. Like coming here and getting to play house with you sometimes but knowing I’d never get that happy ending was a lot but I still did it cause I’d take what I can get with you’ he confessed quietly. ‘That still doesn’t make it right though’

‘It’s okay, a lot of what you said earlier made sense but I need you to know I didn’t fall for you just because you’re good with Gee I promise’ you told him. ‘Even though you’ve stepped up and basically been her father figure without me asking you too. You know I’ll always be thankful for that’

‘Well I love the pair of you more than anything. And I get why me having a good relationship with Gee is so important to you’

‘It’s hard, being a mum and wanting to do right by your kids whilst also trying to have a bit of happiness for yourself’ you sniffed, not having spoken to him about this topic before but since you both seemed to be getting stuff off your chests you figured you’d go for it. Letting him wrap you up close to his chest so you could take in a breath of his relaxing scent before you continued. ‘Gee’s always been a big factor as to why I’ve held back with relationships cause as much as I want someone for myself, she’s my whole life, you know? She’s part of me and I’d never forgive myself for bringing someone into our bubble that could hurt us. So yeah, your relationship with Gee is huge for me cause I don't have to worry about that. You said it yourself earlier she’s basically yours and I don’t think I’ll every trust another man with her like I trust you with her’

‘And I promise you, you’ll never have to even think about trusting someone else okay? You guys are my family. Always have been always will be’ he told you softly and you had to pull back again to look at him as you missed his face already.

‘I’m sorry too though, for keeping it from you, and for comparing you to Jack a lot. I didn’t realise I was even doing it but now I do and I need you to know you’re nothing like him’ you told him tearily and you could see it all over his face how much that meant to him.

‘Thank you’ he whispered, tears still flowing down your cheeks that he gently wiped away and you could see from the frown on his face he didn’t like that you were so upset still. ‘Hey come on, please stop crying baby’ he whispered, the pet name making you smile wider than you had all evening as your tummy swarmed with butterflies. ‘I can’t kiss you again if you keep crying, and I really wanna kiss you right now’

‘You can still kiss me’ you chuckled. Letting him help wipe your cheeks so you didn’t look so upset and when he cupped your jaw you felt your heart flutter at what was about to happen.

If he was as nervous as you then he didn’t show it too much as he tipped your face up towards his. A small smile on his lips as his eyes flashed downward but you could see his pupils had dilated whilst his breathing had deepened but you couldn’t look for too much longer. Shutting your eyes just before his lips touched yours and you felt every nerve ending in your body sing. Your mind foggy as he carefully brushed his lips against yours but you felt whole for the first time in a long time.

‘I’ve waited ten years for that kiss’ he whispered. Lips ghosting yours as he peppered kisses to the corner of your mouth and back and you couldn’t stop giggling before he captured your lips once more.

‘Sorry it took so long’

‘Don’t be. I’d wait another ten, you know that right?’

‘I can’t believe I’ve been so blind this whole time’ you sniffed. Resting your hands on his chest as another wave of guilt hit you. ‘I’ve been so in my head about Jack and then trying to look after Gee and then the move. It’s like all I’ve been doing is trying to keep my head above the water but now I feel like I can take a breath and my visions cleared and you’ve been standing right under my nose this whole time’ you breathed, feeling him pull you closer into his body. ‘I’ve never told you enough how much I love you, like even just as friends. I know I was never great to you over the years and I’m just so sorry for how I’ve acted and how I’ve made you feel all this time. Kinda makes me wonder why you even still like me’ you giggled but just smiled as he rubbed his nose against yours.

‘Cause I don’t just like you, I’m in love with you. Good days, bad days and everything in between. Yes it’s been rough but even if I knew it would hurt as much as it has sometimes I would have still loved you like I do now’ he whispered. Tears springing to your eyes again but you were determined to keep them inside. ‘But I understand, my minds kinda blown and I don’t really get any of this either like when I woke up this morning this wasn’t on my bingo card’

‘Well I’ve been thinking about you for a while and Ell told me I had to be honest with you’

‘Yeah? What have you been thinking?’ He asked, clearly wanting to tease you even more and the prospect of saying divulging even more made you blush furiously as you tried to stutter out a response but he was quick to kiss your cheek and squeeze your sides. ‘You can just say you fancy me, it’s okay’

‘You’re unbelievable’ you laughed. Not being sure if you wanted to pull away or nuzzle in closer but you went for the latter in the end. Wrapping your arms around his neck to you could hold each other and you could feel yourself melting in his arms.

‘And you’re tired’ he whispered into your neck, making you laugh at the way he could read you so well. This whole evening had been exhausting but there was still so much you wanted to ask him. ‘Do you wanna head to bed?’

‘Only if you’re coming with me’

‘Of course’ he whispered, squeezing you tightly for a moment before pulling away and helping you to stand. ‘We can talk some more up there I just wanna be comfy’

You both got ready for bed fairly quickly and Mason was under the covers before you meaning he could warm it all up just as you liked. You’d shared a bed with Mason a few times over the years but this felt different, every other time he’d been basically fully clothed but this time he was just in his boxers and your mouth was watering at the view of his chest. He could tell you were a little bit nervous so he pulled the covers back and tucked you into his side just like normal. Your cheeks flaming as he held your jaw and kissed you again gently but your mind was still reeling with questions.

‘Can I ask you something, cause I feel like you never told me’ you asked as you pulled away from each other.

‘Yeah? Course you can’ he laughed tickling your side gently as you got settled on his chest, his skin warm against your own and after you’d nuzzled yourself into him a bit you were looking up at him with a smile.

‘Why did you pick United?’ You asked and you saw his cheeks redden a touch like he knew why you were asking.

‘Why wouldn’t I?’

‘I’m just curious. There’s so many other clubs that were in for you’ you shrugged before settling your head back down but you noticed his heart rate had picked up slightly.

‘Why do you think I chose here?’

‘I don’t know’ you shrugged. Hoping if you played dumb and not accuse him he’d come out and tell you.

‘I mean I picked here cause I thought it would be the best fit for me but I can’t lie and say the thought of being closer to you wasn’t at the forefront of my mind’ he confessed quietly. Confirming what you sort of had always suspected and rather than scare him off you kept your head down and traced patterns on his chest gently to see if he’d elaborate.

‘Yeah?’

‘When you first told me you were moving, I was so crushed. I thought that was it, you know? Any shot of us ever being more than friends was gone but not even just that. You were so far away it’s like I wouldn’t know if you’re safe or not and it tore me apart that I couldn't protect you anymore. Especially you being up here when Gee was so little. So yeah, you being here made have made it on the list of pros for signing here’

‘It’s your life, mase. I would have never expected to be on your list for something that big’

‘You forget, you are my life. You and pickle are everything to me like even after you told me you didn’t want this I’ve still never been able to let you go. And maybe that sounds a bit pathetic but I just always knew deep down we’d get there one day’

‘Well here we are’ you laughed.

‘Here we are’ he smiled. Kissing your forehead gently before looking down at you with a coy smile. ‘Anything else I need to confess to? Come on, out with it’ he laughed, knowing you and more to say and you figured since he was on a roll you may as well ask no matter how insane you seemed.

‘When you said you date… like how often are we talking?’ You laughed. ‘Cause I had no idea no idea, you’ve never mentioned anything before so it was a bit of a shock’

‘I mean it wasn’t often, every now and then. I’m not all that good at dating I’d don’t think, seemed to just compare everyone to you’ he laughed, rolling his eyes a little bit. ‘But after you moved up here I was with someone for a few months’ he confessed and even thought it was over quite clearly you still felt a weird sinking feeling in your tummy.

‘Oh? Was it serious?’ You asked carefully but he just shrugged.

‘Could have been. But then I had to move and she wasn’t up for long distance so we decided to leave it. I think she kinda knew my feelings towards you too so that probably didn’t help but since moving up I’ve only been on like two dates including last weeks’

‘Does that make me your third time lucky’ you smiled. Your fingers gently tracing his ribs as he smiled back down at you and you couldn’t help but reach up to peck his lips gently.

‘No way, you’ve always been my number one’

‘Is that why you didn’t tell me?’

‘Sort of, I guess I was just holding out hope that you’d come round one day and I didn’t want you thinking I’d moved on from you even if you didn’t care that I had at the time. I didn’t even really want to tell you about last weeks but you’d figured it out and I couldn’t lie. I hope that doesn’t make you feel any differently about me’

‘Not at all. You’re a human Mase, and I wouldn’t expect you to wait for me if I was giving you nothing back. You don’t have to worry about that anymore though cause I wanna give you everything’

‘Oh yeah’ he grinned. His eyebrows wiggling suggestively but you just rolled your eyes as you tapped his chest.

‘Yeah. Like I fell for you because of how I feel when I’m with you and I wanna reciprocate that, you know? I want you to feel all the love you make me feel every single day’

‘I feel it, always have done’ he whispered but all you knew was that you wanted to give home more.

‘Well then buckle up cause you’re about to be overwhelmed’ you laughed. Cupping his jaw and kissing him again but this time he didn’t let you go. Chasing your lips when you went to pull away but it was his hand that was on your lower back that was begging to explore your skin that made your heart race even faster. Gasping into his mouth as he gave your bum a cheeky squeeze and you both pulled away breathless before anyone took things any further.

‘I can’t believe I get to kiss you now. 15 year old me is losing his mind’ he chuckled, pecking your cheek as you both got your breath back. ‘If you wanna be my third time lucky you’re gonna have to let me take you out on a date then’

‘Really?’

‘Yeah, of course. How about this, Lew is coming up next week so he can make a start on some Christmas stuff, why don’t I ask if he can have Gee for an evening and I’ll take you out. I’ve been planing this in my head for years so all you need to do is turn up’

‘Yeah?’ You laughed, loving the excited expression on his face but you were just as excited to get to experience whatever he was dreaming up for the pair of you.

‘As long as you don’t spit pasta in my eye’ he winked and you knew that was a promise you could most definitely keep.

🤍Four Years Later🤍

‘Gee! You ready to go baby?’ You called, standing by the door with her bag and everyone else’s belongings.

‘Coming!’ She shouted. Her footsteps bounding down the stairs suddenly and as you looked to your left, she was running up besides you with a big smile on her face.

‘I’m gonna put all your stuff in the car, okay pickle?.’

‘Where’s daddy?’ She questioned, not wanting to leave without him clearly but you just smiled and stroked the top of her head.

‘He’s coming baby, don’t worry’ you reassured her and she gave you a quick nod to let you know she understood.

‘Right that’s all locked up out back, just need to do the front. We ready?’ Mason smiled, rounding the corner from the kitchen before his eyes were on you. A cheeky and excited look on his face as he wrapped his arms around your waist and even though you two were excited, you were full of nerves at what you were about to do. ‘You okay love?’

‘I’m nervous’ you giggled. ‘I can’t believe we’re finally going’

‘I always promised we would, didn’t I?’

‘You did’ you whispered smiling up at him before he dropped a soft kiss to your lips.

‘Which one are you taking?’ Mason asked. Looking over to Gee who had a protective hand on the handle of the car seat which made your heart thump in your chest.

‘You take Gee and lock up, I’ll get Leo in the car’ you smiled and with another quick kiss to your lips Mason had picked gee up and was stuffing her into a hoodie so she wasn’t cold.

‘Come on little man, let’s get you all strapped in, yeah?’ You cooed. Watching Leo giggle as you tickled his tummy.

Leo was around 10 months old now and he was the apple of Masons eye. You still remember the look on Masons face when you told him you were expecting and even though it was a bit of a shock, it was something the pair of you had spoken about often and you knew he was waiting to hopefully give Gee a sibling.

When you’d first booked this trip, the pair of you had no idea about Leo even existing. His arrival making you question if you should postpone the trip you’d always dreamed of but Gee was already excited and with Leo being such a calm little guy you figured you should just go for it and finally live your dream.

‘Hey mate, you all ready to go?’ Mason asked him sweetly. Coming up behind you as you’d finally got him sat in the car all strapped in and that was all it took for Leo to send him a bright gummy smile. He was such a happy baby but he always reserved his biggest smiles for his daddy.

‘Daddy! Come on!’ Gee suddenly called from the seat in the back next to Leo. Clearly getting frustrated you hadn’t left yet but Mason just playfully rolled his eyes as he smiled down at you.

‘She gets that from you, you know’ he winked. Dropping a heavy kiss on your lips before bending down to talk to Gee. ‘Oi you, I’ll throw you with the lions when we get there if you’re not careful’ he teased but Gee was giggling soon after as he began to hype her up about the trip and get her excited, behaving like he was your third child.

‘Come on, we best head off’ you laughed. Pulling his arm so he’d look at you and the smile on his face made your heart flutter. ‘You sure you got everything?’

‘Got all my people, that’s all I need’ he beamed. Cupping your jaw and kissing you deeply to the point you knees went weak.

‘I can’t believe we're actually doing this, it’s like my biggest dreams coming true. I know I’ve said it a million times but thank you. I love you so much, dimples’ you smiled and it was worth it to watch the blush creep over his cheeks like always when you called him that.

‘I love you, too’ he whispered. Squeezing your sides softly as he kissed you again. ‘But what have I told you about calling me dimples?’

‘Doesn’t matter what you say, your face says it all’ you whispered. Knowing how much he complained about the nickname you’d given him shortly after you’d finally gotten together, but you just didn’t believe him. Watching the way he’d turn into a blushy mess each time told you he secretly loved it and you loved making Mason feel good. ‘Come on then, before Gee loses the plot’

‘Your chariot awaits Mrs Mount’

‘Easy, I’m not Mrs Mount yet’ you laughed, tapping his chest and even though it was something you’d spoken about, Mason was yet to pop the question.

‘It’s only a matter of time’ he whispered. Kissing your head before he let you go and get in the car but it was only when you were out of sight that he checked his pocket for a very important piece of cargo. The small black box felt huge between his fingers but he couldn’t think of a more perfect time for him to ask the girl of his dreams to be his wife than on the trip of her dreams with their two babies in tow. Finally getting to be the family the both of you had always dreamed of.

y/n

liked by masonmount, ell_197, lukeshaw23 and others

y/n wild and free… but not for long 😌 it’s always been a dream of mine to come here but i never imagined just how special it could be. The easiest yes I’ve ever had to say 🤍

masonmount the easiest question I’ve ever had to ask 😏 I love our little family so much ❤️

y/n I love you more, dimples 🥰

masonmount 🙄

ell_197 it’s about damn time guys!!! So so excited for you, congratulations 🥳 🩷 I knew this trip would be special for you girly but who knew just how much 🥺

masonmount yeah I’ve left it a little late huh 😂

y/n he’s lucky he’s cute 🤭 can’t wait to start planning with you Ell! 🩷

lukeshaw23 he finally did it huh 😂 he’s been talking to me about it for months. Thank you for saying yes so he doesn’t have to come and live with me!

y/n why do I feel like you’re saying this because you actually want thank you happen 😂

Mummy_y/n oh I’m over the moon. I remember watching you two growing up and knowing you’d be in each other lives for a very long time. So glad you’ve found your soulmate baby girl 🩷

y/n Mumma 🥺 he’s been here this whole time I’m just glad I finally saw 😭

Tag list - @saltyheartnightmare @harvestmount @prideofpd @sid-vii @carlottawllms @footiehoemcfc @katharinanadiaa @whenelifallsinlove @neverinadream @cityzenchick @msnmnt @stikkibun @masonmtxo @chillymountsjess @yoursselo @maseymm @feelinglikeineedlotsofnaps @leclerc13

[ramblingautisticman]

Al comes back from her weekly "Bingo and Bitches" session one night, quickly telling Logan and Wade all about it, then heads to bed for a good night sleep.

Logan doesn't think anything off it, until Wade comes home the next day covered in blood and dripping in sweat.

"Uh...Wade- what happened? You okay? You didn't say you had a mission- shit- it's not those fucking AVT motherfuckers again is it?" Logan asks, rushing over and checking for any injuries. He knows that there shouldn't be, but he needed to make sure. Just cause Wade healed, doesn't mean it didn't hurt- doesn't mean it couldn't be taken away- and Logan liked to make sure he was looked after when he had been injured.

"Oh- no I'm fine!! AL! GET YOUR ASS OUT HERE!" Wade replied, yelling for the older women as he heads further into the apartment, throwing his mask off, his huge smile now visible to everyone else.

Logan is visibly confused now, and moved to stand next to Wade, watching as Al comes out of her room.

"What do you want motherfucker? I was trying to watch my stories!" She says, her hands on her hips.

"I dealt with the guy you mentioned! The one you said pushed infront of you at the bingo hall? Dealt with. He will not bother my sweet sweet mother figure ever again." Wade said proudly, smile still plasterd on his face as he leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to the women's cheek.

"You are good to me Wade. Not all the time, but sometimes. Now- I'm missing this episode of Family Fortune!" She says before shuffling off back to her room.

"Anyway, how was your day babe?" Wade asks casually, jumping up and sitting on the kitchen island, swinging his legs slightly.

"I...I have so many questions- what the fuck was that!?" Logan asks, staring up and Wade with a glare. He knew what the fuck that was, he could guess. Wade had killed the guy that had pissed Al off last night- which was really why he was so confused and angry. "I thought you stopped 'dealing with issues' like that! We talked about it! You can't just...just kill people who annoy your friends!"

"But....but he upset Al." Wade said, confusion now covering his own face. "He pushed her, and butted in line. She could've broken a hip! I ain't lettin' nobody hurt my mama like that!" He said dramatically, his arms moving as he spoke.

"You know what, as long as you don't kill people for pissing the rest of our family off...I will allow that."

And that's how Logan is also now allowed to kill people for Al.

Wade is 100% the type of guy to be told by his friends that they don't like someone, and instantly, he doesn't like them either. He hates them. Yukio doesn't like the owner of the deli? Wade is going to be rude to him if he sees him. Collosus hates the house a few doors down from the school because they have been putting up anti mutant posters? Wade is finding the phone number and writing it on bathroom stalls. Logan feels uncomfortable around their upstairs neighbor because she made a few comments about his body? Wade is commenting on her body and making sure she feels uncomfortable around him.

Normally, he would love to just go and kill these assholes, but he promises Logan to tone it down.

Al? Al let's him kill people who upset her though.

[wheredidhiseyebrowsgo]

Could you recommend some fics Derek has PTSD and Stiles or the pack help him with coping? If you don’t mind me asking.

Let's see!

take me home. by Anonymous

(1/1 I 3,529 I Mature I No Pairing)

In which Derek Hale is not as okay as he seems (especially after being de-aged by Kate Argent), and Scott and Stiles witnesses it first hand by accident, and tries their best to help.

5 Times Derek Experiences Sensory Overload + 1 Time Derek Experiences Sensory Joy by Warlock_Nerd

(6/6 I 5,604 I General I Sterek)

Derek is Autistic but he hasn’t told anyone in fear of not being taken seriously as an Alpha. Stiles, however, figured it out and made it his mission to help Derek not only for Derek’s Betas but for Derek to finally accept himself.

Regression to the Mean by theroguesgambit

(1/1 I 16,580 I Mature I Sterek)

There aren’t really words for this. “Sure, dude. Let’s hang out sometime and bond over the fact that our lives suck and we’ve both basically killed a bunch of people by accident” doesn't exactly roll off the tongue.

Boys of the Wild by MourningDawn

(28/28 I 145,919 I Mature I Sterek)

Derek has had the worse summer of his life. It was suppose to be his big summer before he started college, where he partied and drank his summer away. But a tragic accident changed everything including Derek. The accident takes a toll on him. He doesn't talk much anymore or leaves his room. All his friends have abandoned him. People in town often look at him with hatred and pity. No one will look him in his eyes anymore, not even his father. No longer being able to watch her son suffer, Talia decides Derek needs a new start. She sends Derek to her home town of Beacon Hills to stay with her brother Peter. It's there that Derek be friends free spirited Stiles Stilinski. Derek decides to keep the accident a secret but he isn't the only one hiding something

The Outcry of Wolves by JupiterMelichios

(47/47 I 254,075 I Mature I Sterek)

He's put a lot of time and effort into remaining human. He was invested in his humanity, actually, despite what certain Alpha werewolves might choose to insinuate. And now it's gone, just like that. One minute human, the next minute... Okay, the next several hours, maybe, but still. He'd been human, and then he took a nap, and now he's... something else.

When Stiles is bitten, he wants to believe it's just a random accident. But something is killing innocent people, Lydia's seeing things, Allison keeps having mysterious accidents, and he's got a growing suspicion it might all be connected.