#ignore how bad this is i was working against the clock and also the alcohol

[bright-and-burning]

@scuderlia + two glasses of wine = horrible horrible creations. im so sorry

[flamingo-writes]

Caught Fire – e.m.

Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

A/N: This is going to be a long list so brace yourselves! Or just skip to the fic fhnsdk

So, I started writing this on Sunday and it's Friday now. And kid you not, all of my free time from work I spent it here, planning, writing and editing this...I really poured a lot of effort here, so I hope you all like it.

Don't let the length of this fanfic intimidate you, I promise it's worth it. 15.6K words with a lot of story and emotions.

This fanfic is actually very personal to me, several of the things in this fanfic are based of memories from my high school with a few of my crushes dnhckjs

The title is based of How Can I resist by Heart. And I know, I have another fanfic based of this same song, but c'mon it's one f my all time favorite songs and I love the lyrics and I can see Eddie vibing to this song

Also, I want to give my lovely friend @storiesthatneedtobewritten bcs Em, you're awesome, and we've been fangirling about Eddie nonstop for the last few days. Em is also working on a Eddie fanfic! So keep an eye out for it!!

Summary: After a very interesting detention, Eddie can't help but think of his bad luck of having met you with the end of the schoolyear around the corner. Specially after your plans for college are so far away from Hawkins. The instant friendship soon had him smitten, and before he realized it, he was in love with you. With graduation closer and closer, things seem to simultaneously get perfect between the both of you, but also messy. The both of you screw up, and hurt each other in the process. And there's a decision Eddie has to make.

Warnings: Cursing, alcohol consumption, mentions of drug consumption, Eddie and the reader being idiots, angst, smut.

Genre: strangers to friends to lovers, fluff, angst, hurt-comfort, smut.

Word Count: 15.6K words

Taglist: @nightless @emotionaldreamer @totallynotkaibiased @kibumslatina @lonely-kermit @angelzone @random-fandom-900 @joukiworld @slightlyvicked

The detention room was always so…strangely, peacefully quiet. Sure, every time he was there after class, he felt the need to poke out his own eyes out of boredom, but this was perhaps the most at peace he found himself when he was at school. When it wasn’t D&D night, of course.

The usual handful of people were there. Mark, a guy who fell asleep in perhaps too many classes. Jessica who snapped back at a teacher or two. Some kid who’s name Eddie always forgot, caught copying the homework or perhaps a test. And the latest addition to the group, a freshman who had been caught more than once writing down stuff in the bathroom stalls and smoked inside the classroom. 

The bunch of misfits. An odd little family Eddie had grown to appreciate over the course of detention hours. 

Eddie completely ignored the sound of the door opening and closing as he had his arms crossed over the desk and his face buried in it. Caught in a slumbered state, not entirely asleep yet, he still heard light footsteps, deciding they were not worth his attention. Not yet, at least.

"Welcome. Sit down. Think about what you did, write an essay about it, and you better not write down that you’d do it again…" Ms. Phelps said.

Eddie, far past the point of caring and half awake state, knew it was someone who wasn’t usually in detention. And hearing Ms Phelps’s instructions, he noticed how for the last few years, barely anything had changed. Same speech, same instructions, and the same lack of interest for reading said essays. Same essays Eddie stopped writing a long time ago, since they didn’t matter. The time the clock struck 5 o’clock, they were off the hook.

He heard a groan, a sigh and finally a loud thud on the desk next to his. And finally, deciding it was worth to look up and see who it was, Eddie saw you. Your forehead was pressed against the table, as you frowned frustrated and resigned, your leg anxiously bouncing; and you seemed to be mumbling to yourself. He smirked amused. 

“Now, that’s a surprise…” He whispered, catching your attention as you opened your eyes and looked at him with panic devouring your eyes. “Welcome to the misfits” He said in a low deep voice, trying to get any form of reaction from you.

‘What a surprise,’ he thought. You, out of all people. He scanned you up and down, the look of a scared animal caught wandering where it shouldn’t was splattered all over your face. Your camera resting on the desk and the strap was wrapped around your hand, an outfit he thought was cute in philosophy class earlier that day, and the sweet smell of your perfume —a smell he always associated with vanilla cookies— reached his nostrils. 

The interest he already had on you seemed to spark. He always found you cute and thought your antiques were adorable. Far too quiet, far too polite, and definitely far too nice to frequent the social circles you did. However, it was part of who you were. And you were the school photographer, a member of the school newspaper. Meaning you were often around the socialite groups, the various sports teams, the cheerleaders, the popular kids…Which was why Eddie never really felt the need to approach you and talk to you. You belonged in another social group, despite your entire personality not exactly matching with the people you frequented. 

You didn’t exactly belong. And more than once Eddie thought those people kept you around mostly out of convenience. The better they get along with the school photographer, the more and better pictures of them make it to the paper. Symbiosis, if you will. You take the good pictures, they maintain your popularity.

“Thanks,” You replied awkwardly.

"Silence!” The teacher snapped, and you flinched. 

Eddie smirked amused, thinking you looked cute. Well…cuter when you flinched. He looked over at Ms Phelps as she soon got distracted in her magazine once more. Biting the tip of his tongue, he grabbed his backpack and pulled out a notebook and opened it in the first blank page he found and took out a pen. 

As you continued to shake your leg anxiously, your eyes were glued to the clock on top of the blackboard. It was barely 3 pm, and the football game would start in half an hour. Nancy Wheeler was going to murder you for getting your ass in trouble and missing the big final, and not getting any pictures. You needed to get out of there, but Ms. Phelps had a reputation of being insufferable, and making an agreement was not an option. Even trying to picture the possible conversation with her, you were sure you’d end up crying out of the utter panic and Ms Phelps raising her voice at you. And the last thing you wanted was for everyone there to see you cry and beg.

You flinched again, as you caught Eddie sliding a folded piece of paper over your desk. He met your stare and gave you a cheeky wink as you grabbed the piece of paper and unfolded the whole page.

‘Fancy seeing you here,’ was written with messy yet nice looking handwriting. 

You sighed and looked at him. Something in his cheeky grin softened into a more genuine smile, as you actually felt some sort of odd comfort radiating from his dark eyes. Eddie with whom you’d perhaps exchanged a total of 7 phrases during the school year and lent him your notes one time he skipped class to go to a concert. You always admired his complete lack of fucks to give. And even found his laidback and usually chill attitude —mixed with his rockstar appearance— attractive. But you were slightly intimidated by him. 

You grabbed a pen from your backpack and wrote down your reply hoping he’d catch on your sarcasm.

‘You know, I’ve always had a fascination for rebellious acts against the system’

You folded the paper and handed it back to him. He picked it and read it, his smile spreading wider across his face as he appreciated your handwriting, far prettier and nicer to stare at than whatever his messy doctor handwriting was.

You watched him glance at you and then started writing. He passed you the note.

‘Ah, non conforming, I see…Good. I like you better now. Excuse my intrusive nose, but I can’t help but wonder why Hawkins High Photographer is stuck in the detention room, looking like you’ve seen a ghost. Did your journalist nature get you in trouble?’

Eddie noticed the way you smiled softly. Amused by his peculiar writing, you looked up again at him. He was glad that he had managed to make the terrified look in your eyes change. You looked back down and moved your pen at once.

‘Well, for starters, Nancy will be mad at me for not getting pics of the game that’s happening right now…And also, I punched Jason Carver in the jaw’ 

You handed him back the note as he looked at it. As his eyes went over your reply and he let a loud laugh escape his throat as he clapped his hands.

“Ah, marvellous!” He sang.

“Munson!” Ms. Phelps barked.

“Yeah, yeah. I’m sorry…” He sighed, raising his hands as he looked at the teacher and then leaned over his elbows over the desk, waiting for her to look back at her magazine before he started writing down his next reply.

‘You’ll have to tell me more about punching Jason…Do you wanna go to the game?’ Somehow, his voice was in your head as you read.

‘Well it’s not a matter whether I want to or not. I have to…But I can’t just leave here’ You replied.

‘I’ll cover you,’

After reading his reply, you looked over at him, slightly confused as he stretched his hand over to your desk and snatched the piece of paper back, wrinkling in his palm as he winked at you and stood up from his desk rather loudly. 

“What in God’s name do you think you’re doing, Munson?” The teacher asked, he shrugged in a silent reply.

“I didn’t like the way my regretful speech was turning, that’s all…” He said as he stood by the teacher's desk and tossed the paper on the bin. “What?” 

“Were you really writing the essay?” Ms Phelps raised an eyebrow questioningly.

“If you don’t believe me, read it” He said confidently, making your heart race as you could see the horror unfold before your eyes as you wondered if Ms Phelps would actually grab the piece of paper and read it. 

But she didn’t. She limited herself to stare at Eddie, her small eyes squinting, almost disappearing from her face. 

“You’re up to something…” She said, making Eddie chuckle. 

“Must I always have a master plan behind everything I do? Am I not just free to do things for the sake of it?” He asked with his sarcastic smirk on his face.

“You speak far too eloquently for someone who keeps repeating senior year…”

“I’m going to pretend like that wasn’t an insult in disguise and instead take it as a compliment because you called me eloquent. I spend a lot of time reading. Besides, it’s but a single class the one I’m struggling with, the rest I know the lectures almost by heart now…” His smile grew into a toothy proud smirk. 

Eddie avoided looking up at you to draw any suspicion. And as the teacher continued to bicker with him, you very silently grabbed your backpack and walked towards the door, slowly pushing it open and closing it very slowly.

Eddie would be lying if he said he didn’t spend the rest of his afternoon thinking of you. Not in a dreamy kid with a crush kind of way. He thought about you in general. And how despite most of the people in the school paper being for the most part tacky and conceited, you remained very humble. 

The next day, very much to his displeasure, you two didn’t share any classes that day. He would’ve liked to see you and talk to you, but looking around school or keeping his eyes wide open while walking down the halls was too much effort.

“Hey, Ed. Hawkins High journalist 6 o’clock…” Dustin whispered upon noticing you awkwardly approaching their table.

You had your binder pressed against your chest as you shyly walked closer to them, camera hanging from your shoulder and your backpack from the other one.

Eddie sat up straight and turned around. His gaze turned into a confident smile. Your entire look was adorable, he had to admit. He stood up and gently bowed, offering you the seat next to him.

“Oh, well, well, well…The rebellious princess is blessing us with her presence…” He said as you smiled shyly and sat between him and Dustin.

“What a weird way to say hello” You giggled putting your binder and camera over the table.

“I’m not the school freak for nothing, babe” He smirked. “What do we owe the pleasure?”

“I wanted to thank you for helping me out yesterday,” You said looking at him with a genuine smile and sparkly eyes. “I managed to get to the game on time, took a few pics, didn’t get murdered by Nancy…And all thanks to you…” You said as the rest of the Hellfire Club exchanged stares, slightly confused. "I am indebted to you, and I’ll gladly buy you lunch someday, or a drink or whatever…”

“I’m glad I could help…” He smirked. “I’ll take your word on lunch someday, sweetheart”

 It seemed like since that day, Eddie and you became friends. And over the course of the week you went from waving and smiling at each other when you walked across each other in the halls, to stopping at the sight of the other to exchange a few words or questions “What class you’ve got next?” “Hey, can I borrow your calculator?” “Mr Owens is in a mood today, make sure to not say anything stupid nor too sarcastic”. People started giving you weird looks when they noticed you and Eddie ‘The Freak’ Munson started interacting more and more. Especially when you went from knowing the other exists to actually talking outside the school, in the parking lot, by your locker. And all over the course of a week and a half. 

Two weeks after your detention incident, you finally took Eddie out for lunch to thank him for what he did. You two went to a Chinese restaurant  by the mall one Thursday afternoon after school, you would’ve gone on a Friday, but Eddie had told you Fridays were Hellfire days. And not wanting to disrespect your newfound golden friendship, you decided to go on Thursday instead. 

“I hate this,” You giggled as you kept trying to hold some of your rice with your chopsticks and it kept falling and falling. 

“This was your idea, baby” He giggled as he  effortlessly grabbed some rice from your bowl and pulled his chopsticks up to your mouth. 

“You’re so good at this, it’s unfair” You giggled as you took the bite he offered you and blushed at the realisation that he had fed you. “How do you do it?” You murmured with your cheeks stuffed with rice.

“I’ve got a few hidden talents. Between playing guitar and painting miniatures, you learn how to carefully handle things…” He said as he then grabbed a piece of chicken and ate it. 

“You’re so incredibly artistic, Ed…Have you noticed that?” You sighed.

“I mean, I do want to become a musician…”

“No, not just that…” You said. “You paint your miniatures, and actually do a very good job at it, you play the guitar, you’ve said you write lyrics too, right? And you  not only design maps but plan these adventures for Hellfire. You’re insanely creative, Eddie!” You gasped.

The enthusiasm in your voice made his cheeks heat up and his heart skip a beat. Not really used to being flattered like that. Or in any way that wasn’t playing his guitar or while playing his role as Dungeon Master. And here you were recalling all the things he took for granted and as a part of his daily routine and made him realise how indeed, all those things required more creativity and talent than the average person had. 

“So me being a nerd is artistic?” He chuckled.

“Not all nerds are. But the very specific kind of nerd you are, yeah…” 

“Thanks, I guess…” He smiled, feeling the heat clinging to his cheeks. 

“I mean it. All these little things you do, they’re amazing, I swear. Too bad not everyone gets to realise this…” You sighed, “Artists are always under appreciated”

Eddie looked at you with a new found intrigue. His heart suddenly beating loudly in his chest as your big wide eyes met his and you smiled. He felt his heart being pierced with an arrow. The kind looks you gave him, your gentle and overall soft demeanour, and your clear appreciation of who he was…Rarely people gave him a chance, and those who did were soon surprised with how Eddie wasn’t the mean and scary person everyone took him for. But there was something different about the way you treated him, like you’d never really cared about the things people had to say about him, like he wasn’t a freak, like you were genuinely curious of who he was as a person and you weren’t enduring an interaction with him like it happened when someone bought drugs off of him. 

You spent the rest of the afternoon together just talking and getting to know each other better. At least until 9 o’clock when he drove you home. A little bit too early for his taste, but you had insisted.

“My dad and his stupid 9 pm curfew, I’m sorry…” You sighed. 

“I mean, we can at least still talk and hang out, right?” He asked. 

“Yeah, of course…Let me just go inside and tell my parents I’m back and that we’re going to be out here…” You said as you hopped down his van. 

He watched you leave as he got down himself and grabbed a cigarette, lighting it and taking a drag. His thoughts circled around everything that had happened. Especially the way you smiled at him and told him you thought he was incredibly artistic. Even the memory tickled his belly and made his heart squeeze as he thought he was done for. He watched you go out and walk to the edge of the sidewalk and sit down, patting the free space next to you, inviting him to sit with you. He chuckled and walked towards you, noticing the curtains from the large window next to the door move and someone peeking out. Eddie instinctively waved, and whoever it was waved back, as you turned around to see. 

“Oh, that’s my dad…” You replied and looked back at Eddie. 

And just like that, the curtains fell once more behind the glass. 

From then on, the friendship bloomed. Eddie was not only easy to talk to, but something about his unhinged and spontaneous personality drew you in like a moth to light. Once Eddie managed to get over your shy facade, he was pleased to learn that your hidden playfulness matched his perfectly. Only perpetuating the feelings Eddie was growing over you. 

Even, in an attempt to spend more and more time with you, he agreed to study with you and even hang out in the afternoons and do homework together, helping each other out if needed. This was such a new thing for Eddie, he even found himself enjoying these little study dates. Sure, he still disliked sitting down and studying, but your company sure made it bearable. That and the focused look in your eyes when you concentrated, or how passionate you got when you were explaining something to him took his breath away. 

As the finals were drawing closer and closer you spent more and more time together, studying and catching up on homework. And one particular day, you were in his trailer, specifically in the living room sitting on the floor with your books and notes lying all around as you were explaining something to him about biology. Eddie entranced with your voice and hands moving around, he even had a small smile on his face. 

The door swung open slowly as Eddie’s uncle walked inside and found the both of you there. The scene was instantly surprising as it was clear that you two were studying. Eddie was studying. 

“Oh, you’re early…” Eddie sighed as he looked at his uncle and stood up, stretching lightly before offering you a hand and helping you up. “Hun, this is my uncle, the one and only Wayne Munson” He said and then turned at Wayne and called your name no loud and clear. “My dearest friend, companion I’d say partner in crime, but she’s too sweet for that…” 

“Nice to meet you, Mr. Munson…” You said gazing at him.

“Oh dear, drop the formality. You can call me Wayne, it’s alright” He chuckled awkwardly. “You’re studying, now that’s new…” Wayne joked. 

“Oh yeah, she’s Ms Good Influence in my life now…She convinced me to study…” Eddie teased as you giggled and watched him attentively. 

Something in Eddie’s demeanour changed when Wayne arrived. Not new walls building, but quite the opposite. Not like you, you would’ve gotten slightly tense if your mother had arrived home to find the both of you studying. Eddie bickered with his uncle back and forth for a while, teasing and joking between them as you noticed a look in his dark eyes. Eddie’s dark eyes sparkling with something too beautiful and too peaceful. You wondered how close those two were. Sure, Eddie rarely talked about his parents, talked a few things about his uncle, and something you knew to be true was that the old man worked for most of the day, and every so often he had night shifts. But from the way Eddie was looking at him, you could tell Eddie appreciated him far more than he concealed with words.  Your heart melted and wished someone looked at you the way he looked at his uncle, with so much unconditional love. You even wished Eddie looked at you that same way.

“We bought pizza for lunch earlier. There’s still some left in the fridge if you want…” Eddie said as he returned to the living room where you were, looking at him with melting eyes. “What?”

“Nothing,” You purred.

The sweet tone of your voice and the cute smile you gave him made his heart skip a beat and wonder what did he do to get such a reaction from you? He’d do it again.

“Thanks, kiddo” Wayne said opening the fridge. 

“Sure, no problem,” Eddie replied looking back at Wayne as he sat next to you on the couch. 

“Wanna take a break from studying?” You yawned. 

“Oh finally! Yes!” Eddie giggled as you felt his smile warming up your cheeks. 

With every passing day. The friendship seemed to grow stronger and stronger. The two of you becoming two peas of a pod, getting used to each other’s antiques, likes and dislikes. Adapting into a comfortable routine where you spent a considerable amount of time outside of school together. Eventually, you got over your slight fear of rejection, and asked him if you could take pictures of him. His flamboyant and dramatic demeanour allowed you to take great pictures of him.

And since, Eddie became your favourite subject to follow around and photograph. You had gathered a small collection of pictures that looked staged, but in reality, those were Eddie being Eddie. You got a chance to take a picture of Eddie walking over one of the cafeteria tables, staring at everyone from above, like a cat gazing over what was his territory. Eddie playing his guitar at the back of his van with a joint between his lips, Eddie dramatically sitting on the armrest of his famous throne in the classroom they used for Hellfire campaigns, even his DM screen and set up looked fascinating in their own way. 

But your favourite picture was one in which he was doing nothing but relaxing on one of the stone benches outside the school. The both of you were skipping your 7th period of the day on a Friday that was far too close to the summer and graduation. It was hard to concentrate in class by this point, even the teachers were starting to savour the end of the school year. So, skipping a class or two wouldn’t hurt anyone, nor the teachers would care. He was lying on the stone bench. The tree above you keeping the both of you fresh, despite the unbearable heat. His chest rising and falling slowly as you sometimes thought he had fallen asleep, at least until you noticed his foot moving to the rhythm of whatever he was listening to on his Walkman with the headphones on his head. His messy hair spread and falling down the stone bench. His black Dio shirt matching the slightly faded ink in his sun kissed skin. 

You saw the entire scene and quickly pulled your camera, taking a picture. And it wasn’t until you heard the click of your camera that the penny dropped. The sudden rush in your heartbeat when you saw Eddie so relaxed on that bench wasn’t just because you had found a beautiful scene to capture in your camera. You found him beautiful and attractive on his own. But you realised how your crush  on him wasn’t just a crush. A blush spread through your cheeks as you looked up from your camera and stared at Eddie once more, taking in the little details in his face, his neck, his chest, his hands gently resting over his stomach. 

"You good?” His sleepy voice snapped you out of your thoughts. 

“Ah ye-yeah…” You stuttered as you met his eyes briefly and looked away feeling all too flustered. “I took a picture, that’s all…”

“Really?”

“You looked too relaxed…And not threatening nor intimidating at all” you joked as you gazed back at him and watched him crack a smile. 

“Oh no,” He joked. “You better keep that to yourself, people can’t be seeing me being vulnerable” He smirked.

You stared at him with a gentle smile spreading on your face, looking at him with a new found adoration. Something about his comment made your chest warm up. Perhaps that he trusted you enough to admit that he had let his guard down with you around. Or that you kept the picture… most of the pictures you took of him, you’d let him keep them. Just kept a few for your own portfolio for college. 

“Eddie…” You whispered as he looked at you and took off his headphones. 

“Tell me, sweetheart”

“What are you doing after graduation?” You murmured, already knowing he wanted to do something with his music, but never really went into an actual explanation of whatever he planned. If he even was in the first place.

“Finally someone has faith in me!” He said dramatically, referring to his slim chances of passing Ms. O’Donnell’s final. “I don’t know, sweetheart. Perhaps play my guitar somewhere…why?” 

You felt a rather painful squeeze in your chest as you didn’t know how to break the news to him.

“I…got the acceptance letter back from the college…in Indianapolis…” You said without saying anything else, letting him fill in the blanks. 

His eyes widened in surprise as he sat up and fell to the grass in front of you. 

“Oh hey, that’s great, darling!” He said excitedly as he cupped your face in his hands and brought you closer, hugging you. “I told you your little nerdy brain could get anywhere you wanted!” 

“Yeah…Thing is…I,” You stuttered breaking the hug “Well, I also got another one back…From a college I applied to in New York…” 

His smile faded slightly, as he looked at you. Puzzled at first, not believing for a second what he had heard as he thought of the chances of you leaving Indiana to go to a place like New York. Far away from Hawkins. Far away from him.

“New York? That’s far away!” He chuckled awkwardly.

“It is! But my brother is currently there, in law school…So, I told him if I could move in with him in his apartment and he said yes…” You explained, not sure exactly what you were trying to accomplish.

“That is amazing, love…” He whispered looking at you tenderly “I mean, it’s a bit sad that you’re going to leave me but, I’m proud of you, babe…" He said smiling at you, although he felt a sting in his chest. "Come visit from time to time…I’m sure going to miss you as hell…" His voice faded.

You stared into his eyes and smiled. Such a beautiful smile, Eddie thought. A smile he wanted to forever carve in his memory. Against his conscious mind, his arm reached out for you again and brought you close for another hug as you wrapped your arms around him at once and melted against his embrace, taking in the familiar smell of Eddie’s cologne and cigarette smoke.

—

As the summer drew closer, you spent more and more time together. Studying for finals and especially helping Eddie with the classes he struggled with the most. Sometimes at his place. Sometimes at yours. Sometimes it was the school library. And even the back of his van. This was when people started talking the most about the odd closeness the two of you shared. 

Being in the school paper meant you were in a lot of social events, interacted with a lot of people, and being the photographer, people had to be nice to you. You held so much power without realising it, since you could decide which photos to use, and how many times were you willing to take people’s pictures. So everyone in school, if they wanted to look good in the paper, they had to kiss your ass. However, the genuine desire to be nice to you or to ask you to sit with the popular groups wasn’t exactly there. You knew this, but didn’t really give a shit. 

And now the photographer was hanging out with the freak. Not only hanging out. Rumours spread like wildfire after one time someone saw you two at the back of his van, the van parked on a popular viewpoint where normally couples went. However, the both of you were mostly studying with the door wide open. Eddie needed to constantly change locations or else he’d grow bored and restless and studying became impossible. And this viewpoint was your latest idea as you studied. 

But people didn’t know that. 

People simply saw you at the famous viewpoint. The two of you spent several hours there doing god knows what. And the next thing everyone knows is, you’re hugging Eddie, in the middle of the hall as he is spinning on his toes. A truly adorable scene…if it wasn’t the freaks. Or at least many people thought. 

But you didn’t care. You were more focused on celebrating Eddie’s B+ in Mrs. O’Donell’s final. The one class Eddie needed  to pass. And the exam you studied for the most, even to the point of Eddie begging you to study something else. But all the studying had gotten Eddie far more than the D he needed. He had gotten a B+ and he was as ecstatic as you were. Thanking you over and over as he hugged you, spinning on his toes as you clung to him celebrating as well. 

“Eddie! Oh my god! That’s insane! I’m so proud of you!” You giggled as you buried your face in his neck as he spun you around celebrating. 

As he set you down and broke the hug, he dramatically bowed to you. 

“I will forever be in your debt, oh your glorious highnesses” He said, making you giggle. 

“Just buy me lunch sometime and we’ll be even” You giggled.

That night, as he drove you back home at the usual ridiculously early curfew your father set, he parked in front of your house. You’d gone to the arcade and spent the afternoon trying to beat as many high scores as possible, competing between the both of you. And on the ride back home, you found one of the many D20 bouncing around in the cup holder of his van, and grabbed it and played with it in your palm for the entirety of the ride. As you say your goodbyes and as you were about to go inside your house, you stopped on your tracks and hopped back to his van. 

“What’s up?” He asked once you opened the door and you returned the D20 to the cup holder. 

“I was about to kidnap this little guy” You said, making Eddie chuckle as he grabbed it and handed it back to you. 

“No, keep it” He said, smiling softly at you. “Think of this as a piece of me…” 

“Ed–“

“This used to be any other D20, like the other eight I have lying around somewhere in this same van…” He chuckled. “Now it’s yours. Keep it safe for me, yeah?” The smile he gave you was to die for as you rolled your eyes playfully. 

“So dramatic…” You chuckled, as he smirked. 

“A token of my trust, my gratitude, even a piece of my heart of you will,” He joked, playing along and moving his hands in a dramatic gesture. 

“Alright then, Eddie The Freak Munson…” You chuckled. “Good night,” You purred as you leaned forward and kissed his cheek before sprinting out of his van and running towards your house. 

If you had stayed for two more seconds, Eddie would’ve seized his chance and would’ve kissed you right there and then. Although the flip his heart made and excitement rushed through his body, soon he felt the gloom washing over him, reminding him that you had your days in Hawkins jumbered. And with every passing day, you were closer and closer to leaving to New York, making him feel slightly bitter, and even sorry that he didn’t get to meet you before. You had spent almost four years there, and him six, and he had to meet you after you returned from Spring Break. 

Just like every end of term, there was a party where pretty much everyone was invited and everyone attended. Even him, although he went more as a business trip, selling joints and weed to people at the party, and also because you’d told him you were going to be there. However, you were nowhere to be seen yet, and he came across Chrissy Cunningham. The sweet little cheerleader he had the pleasure of making a drug deal shortly before Spring Break. And most likely, the girl to steal his heart if you hadn’t come around exactly two weeks after his drug deal with Chrissy. He had felt that romantic curiosity and attraction towards her when they first talked in the woods, but that was before you came along. However, some sort of residual feelings were still there. 

After you returned from taking a couple of photos of the basketball team, you returned inside the house. Hearing from the team they were trying to cheer Jason up, you wondered what had happened, but not enough to ask. Truth was, you didn’t really care about what  happened with Jason. Since that time he tried to get his way with you and you punched him in the face—which got you into the detention in which you properly met Eddie—, and you thought perhaps Chrissy had opened up her eyes and realised Jason wasn’t the best guy for her. 

But boy, you weren’t actually expecting Chrissy to realise not just that, but seeing her talking to Eddie made something in your heart twist and turn painfully, And the worst part it wasn’t that you were the only one seeing it. People were also talking about how close Eddie was talking to Chrissy. His silhouette towering right next to her, leaning closer to her, talking into her ear. People around you were saying how Chrissy only needed a few hours to get over her breakup with Jason to move on to none other than Eddie, The Freak. Her wide eyes looking at him curiously, as Eddie’s charming smile shone down on her. 

You felt dizzy. You felt nauseous. If it wasn’t for the fact that you hadn’t had a single drop of alcohol yet, you’d perhaps believe you were drunk. Light headed, and suddenly the earth spinning faster than ever, you would’ve believed you were drunk. You hung your camera around your neck and spun on your toes and went to the kitchen to get a drink. 

“So much for a piece of your heart…” You whispered bitterly, as you felt the weight of the D20 in your pocket suddenly weighing fifty times more than it should. 

As you grabbed a can of beer and opened it, you wasted no time and drank half of it in one go, hoping that the bitter and gross taste of beer washed away the bad taste seeing Eddie flirting with Chrissy left in your mouth. 

“Whoa, someone’s here to get wasted!” You recognized Bradley’s voice as you put down the can. 

You stared at him and waved hello. Tall, tanned, charming smile and cheeky eyes looked down at you as you wondered how much could a person change with just an outfit. 

“You look so different without your football uniform…” You said, smiling at him. 

“I look good, though, right?” He smirked as you rolled your eyes sarcastically. 

“You always look good, Brad. Or so all the girls at school say…” You replied, not really meaning anything of what you had said. Sure, Bradley was attractive, but he wasn’t your type by any means.

The rest of your beer soon disappeared. And so did the next two, three cans of beer. And the night became blurry with colours that looked all too saturated. Music seemed to barely last, as you weren’t sure anymore of what was happening. All you knew was that you were trying to forget about the image of Chrissy and Eddie, which was going great at first. Until you caught a glimpse of them making out by a corner of the house. The nausea clung to your throat and your eyes blurred with tears as another two cans of beer made it past your lips as if they were water. As you were actually growing fond of the taste of it, your head didn’t. You danced, you blended in with the popular crowd for the first time in all of your high school years, you swore you kissed lips that tasted like cigarettes and weed, and in a poor taste joke, your mind envisioned Eddie, but only made the ache in your heart worse as you pulled away, only to find Brad holding you by the waist. 

You had gotten drunk before, a few times, but never like this. God, your parents were going to kill you. You were lost. Drowned in alcohol, and yet, the fear of your consequences sobered you enough to make you leave the dance floor and Bradley, telling him you needed some fresh air. Walking out of the house, you dragged your feet, fighting to keep your balance until you made it to the small park across the street and grabbed one of the swing seats and sat down, looking at the ground, feeling your stomach threatening you to barf all the excess beer filling your empty stomach. 

“Shit…” You groaned, as you closed your eyes, resigned that sooner or later it was going to happen. 

As Eddie walked out of the house with a victorious smile and a giggly Chrissy with her arm around his waist and his around her shoulders, they headed to his van. Slightly disappointed that he never got to see you, but at the same time grateful. Things with Chrissy wouldn’t have happened the way they did if you were there. If you’d been there, his attention would’ve been solely on you. 

However, his euphoric little state didn’t last long as he recognized you at the distance, when he opened the copilot seat for Chrissy to get inside. His stomach turned stone cold.

“Shit,” He purred. 

“What’s wrong?” Chrissy asked curiously as she followed his eyes across the street and looked at the park. 

“Give me a minute. Stay in the car, I’ll be back in a bit, yeah?” He purred softly, as he thought about kissing her forehead, but he didn’t. 

He didn’t and he knew why. Eddie watched Chrissy get in the van and he closed the door before jogging across the street and into the park as he walked up to you, calling your name as you flinched and looked up. 

“Oh, shit. Hi…“ You groaned and looked back down. “Hello…”

“You came…” Eddie said confused.

“Yeah. I told you I would…” You sighed as he sat on the swing seat next to yours and rubbed your back. “Ed, I’m so drunk, this is ridiculous…”

“Yeah, I was going to say you stink like the guys who usually watch us play on Tuesdays…” Eddie purred. 

“Ha! That’s a good one…” You purred.

“What happened?” He asked.

“I’m stupid, that’s what happened…” Eddie frowned at the way your voice bitterly spat your reply. 

“Hey, come on, don’t talk like that…” He whispered. “Let’s take you home,”

“N-no…I ca-can’t get home like this…Eddie, please…”

“What do you suggest I do?”

“Oh god, I don’t know…” You sighed deeply. You slid off the swing seat and fell to the grass. “How much of a bad idea is it to stay here?”

“Awful. C’mon…” Eddie said standing up and offering you a helping hand as he took a deep breath. 

“Where are we going?” You muttered as you grabbed his hand and he pulled you up and you clung to him, feeling like the earth was spinning a thousand miles a second. “Oh god…” You muttered. “Sorry…” 

“No, it’s okay…” He whispered. “I’m taking you to my place…” 

Eddie’s plans of taking Chrissy to his place changed as soon as he saw you completely wasted, saying you couldn’t go back home. And he didn’t even feel conflicted about making such a decision. Seeing you like that made his heart break as he knew something had happened for you to end up like that. And in a heartbeat, he made the decision to watch over you rather than getting lucky with Chrissy. As he guided you to his van, he slid open the backseat’s door and guided you inside. 

“Dude, the back seat…?” You asked confused as you looked over and saw Chrissy on the co pilot's seat as she waved shyly at you. “Oh, hi, Chrissy..,” You hiccuped. “What a-are…Oh–, shit, I’m sorry…” you mumbled as your drunken brain managed to put two and two together. “Ah fuck, I’m so sorry. You look very pretty though…Hi Chrissy…” 

As Eddie slid into the driver’s seat, he felt his chest tight at the way you dragged your tongue with every word. Reminding him of how he was making out with another girl who wasn’t the girl he so desperately wanted to kiss. And having both of them there made him tense. 

“I’m so sorry. I couldn’t leave her there…” Eddie muttered slightly embarrassed. “Mind if I drive you home? I need to sober her up before dropping her home…” Eddie lied.

“Oh, don’t worry..,you two are best friends, right?” Chrissy asked.

“God, the best! Eddie is…” you sighed as you lied down. “The absolute best guy you can find…”

Your words only made Eddie’s chest tighter and tighter. Chrissy giggled. 

“Really?” 

“Oh really!” You said sitting up and leaning closer to the front seats. “He’s so fun and chill to hang around…Hella smart even though he says he isn’t…”

“Jesus, you sure are drunk…” Eddie chuckled uncomfortably. 

“No, no…I mean, yeah, I’m drunk. But I mean those things! I mean, I’m drunk, I can’t lie if you ask me anything right now…”

“Honey, you are such a terrible liar, even when sober” Eddie said as you chuckled. 

“Hmm, that’s true…” You whispered and laid back down. “I’m sorry for ruining your night guys…” You whispered, your cheerful voice soon dissipating and lowering. 

“Don’t worry, I actually think it’s very nice that you’re going to watch over her…” Chrissy said. 

“I tell you! Eddie has a heart of gold…” You sighed. 

Eddie looked over at the mirror, looking at you on the passenger's seat. He also felt Chrissy’s sweet stare on him as he felt ashamed to look over at her. 

"I love you, Eds,” You yawned, stretching your hand towards him and gently patted his head, as Chrissy giggled at the cute gesture. Eddie’s throat closed as he clenched his jaw. 

“Me too, dude” He said, biting the tip of his tongue as he didn’t know why he dropped that pet name out of all the things he used to call you. 

Was it because Chrissy was there? He didn’t want to blow off his narrowing chances with Chrissy. And at the same time, he felt like an asshole for doing that to you. Especially in such a vulnerable state, after you just said nice things about him. 

As Chrissy guided him to her place, he parked outside her house and rushed out of the van to open her door for her and walked her to the door. Chrissy stopped and pulled her keys out before swinging on her toes and looked at Eddie with a smile as she stood on her top toes and pecked him. 

“I know this didn’t end like you wanted, but I think it’s very sweet that you take care of her…As you should…” She gave him such a genuine and radiant smile it made Eddie feel guilty. “Someone else would’ve let their friend there if they were on their way to take someone else to their place…” She said, making it clear that she knew where Eddie was going to take her and why. 

“Yeah, well…she’s important to me…” Eddie sighed, his own oversimplification of your friendship hurting him. 

“I can tell. I’m even slightly jealous…I wish I had someone who looked out for me the way you do with her…” Chrissy said, only adding to the piling guilt in his gut. “Anyways, see you on Monday?” 

“Yeah…” He purred. 

“Goodnight, Eddie…” She purred as she wrapped her arms around his shoulders and brought him close to her for a slow kiss. 

He groaned softly in surprise as he kissed her back. Her lips suddenly tasted bitter as he placed his hands in her waist. A part of his brain too painfully aware that you were passed out in his van, and another part of his brain imagining he was kissing you instead. 

“Goodnight…” He purred softly as he broke the kiss, his heart beating in his throat making him nauseous.

If you were being honest, the last memory you had from that night was when you first sat down in that swing seat. Everything else that happened afterwards was one big black out. You remembered everything before that point. 

And you spent the entirety of the Sunday in Eddie’s trailer. He watched over you, helped you with your hangover and told you a little bit of what happened after he found you in the swing seat. You called your parents and told them you crashed over at a friends place because your friend was the one passed out drunk and you were going to take care of them. That was Eddie’s idea to keep you off trouble. 

That was such a weird day. 

You told him you saw him and Chrissy kissing. He said he was originally selling her a few joints and one thing left to the other. You didn’t tell him why you had gotten so drunk, you simply said you had hardly eaten that day and that was it. You told him you made out with someone but couldn’t remember who was it, Eddie told you it had been Bradley Walsh. And other than that, you didn’t talk much. 

After a very needed shower, you spent the rest of the day in his bed. The both of you cuddled, napping, your legs tangled or your hands entwined the entire time. The both of you felt oddly hurting, and staying cuddled next to each other was both comforting and torturous. 

Eddie couldn’t stop thinking about how he kissed Chrissy in an attempt to use her as a rebound. He felt grossed out by himself. Only to realize that when put together, he’d choose you a million times. You in the other hand felt insanely guilty. You had made out with Brad because you were being petty and couldn’t stand the sight of Chrissy and Eddie kissing. 

The desire to hold on to each other and kiss each other was growing as the afternoon progressed, making the tension between you two more and more uncomfortable. But neither of you knew, or at least refused to believe, that your feelings for each other weren’t as one sided as you both believed them to be. And at the same time, the fear of actually losing the wonderful friendship you’d found a few months ago would go to waste with a single kiss. And if it didn’t, your departure to New York would definitely break both of your hearts. Either way, not addressing the situation seemed like a far better idea at the moment.

After he drove you home, you only felt your heart breaking further and further. The comfort of being in Eddie’s bed, between his arms, his slow breathing next to yours and his chest next to yours was drifting away with every mile you drove further from the trailer park. And when he walked you to the door, he kissed your forehead.

“Goodnight, love” He purred before he walked back to his van. 

Despite your Sunday with Eddie, you still felt uncomfortable every time you saw Chrissy. Specially when she looked at you, waved, asked how you were doing and if you’d seen Eddie. The fact that she was looking for Eddie made your stomach twist and your appetite got lost completely. 

“He’s perhaps at the usual table of the Hellfire Club?” You wondered. 

And with that, she was gone. You went in about your day and spent some time in the newspaper classroom printing your last photos to get them ready for the last issue of the school year. A few pictures of Eddie were there, only making the uncomfortable hole in your chest ache more. Once you were done, you went to the cafeteria and walked towards your friends in Hellfire, noticing Eddie wasn’t there. 

“Where’s Ed?” You asked in a soft whisper, not sure you wanted to hear the answer. 

"I saw him walking to his usual dealing spot with Cunningham…” Garett said. 

You clenched your jaw and nodded. 

“I see. Well, thanks guys, see you around..,” You sighed and walked away.

Dustin and Mike exchanged concerned stares. Noticing the way your slouched shoulders hid your head. The distant stare, and over all cold behaviour. You were normally so laid back and talkative. This time you simply made a question and with that you were gone. Along with the rumours, everyone was exchanging in the halls about what had happened in Aaron’s party. 

Thinking you and Eddie were more than meant to be, Dustin and Mike did feel worried regarding those rumours. You two were always together, we’re constantly flirty with each other, and suddenly, he was making out with Chrissy and seeing leaving the party with her. And you were seen making out with Brad. What exactly had happened in that party, they didn't know. Eddie too was acting odd that day. Quieter than usual, and he was seen quite a lot with Chrissy. 

After having finished their lunch, they decided to explore the school grounds searching for you. And when they finally did, you were sitting underneath a tree, resting against it, with your eyes closed and a very tired look on your face.

“Excited that you’re finally graduating this Friday?” Dustin asked with a feigned chuckle as you opened your eyes and looked at him. 

“Yeah, I guess…” You muttered smiling at them. 

“I thought you’d be looking a bit happier…” Dustin added. 

“Mind if we sit with you for a bit?” Mike asked, you shrugged and patted the grass next to you. 

“Be my guest, guys…My grass is your grass…” You said with a smile, not reaching your eyes.

“What’s wrong?” Mike asked sitting next to you, bumping his boney shoulder next to yours, you sighed and rested your head against it, closing your eyes, fighting the urge to cry. 

“Life’s scary, Mike…” You sighed. “College is scary, adult life is scary too…” Your voice died out. 

“Are you seriously okay?” Dustin asked sitting in front of you. 

You chuckled bitterly and opened your eyes, revealing your tearful stare to him. 

“No, not really…” 

“What’s the matter?” Dustin asked. 

“You know you can trust us, right? I mean, we’re not the closest of friends but…We do consider you our friend. Everyone at Hellfire…” Mike said looking at you as you lifted your head from his shoulder and cleaned the tears slipping down your face. 

“Thank you. Mike…” You whispered. 

“Did you and Eddie have a fight or something?” Dustin inquired. 

“Why would you assume this has anything to do with Eddie?” You said With a bitter chuckle as your eyes continued to tear up exposing the truth of Dustin’s assumptions.

“You…like him…don’t you?” Dustin guessed.

“What?” You barked.

 “Ah I-I mean…sometimes we had the impression that you…liked him? You know? But I–we know you two are best friends…” Mike quickly intervened. 

Sighing deeply, you let your head fall back against the tree. Your eyes shut closed, as you felt them get even more tearful and several tears even fell down your closed eyes. Mike and Dustin exchanged worried stares, not sure how to help or what to say even. 

“So is it that obvious?” You purred.

“So you…really like him? Like…like him?” Mike asked. 

“Yes, Mike. I like him. A fucking lot, actually…” You hissed, refusing to open your eyes. 

“So…I guess you heard…” Dustin muttered. 

“What exactly?” You whispered, swallowing the knot in your throat. 

“I-I…I bet it’s just some stupid rumor…” Dustin stuttered. “I-I bet it’s…not even real…”

“Cut the chase, Dust…Please”

“Eddie and Chrissy kissed…But…Eddie told us she was trying to get her mind off Jason…they broke up earlier that day…And he said he had seen you with Bradley and…”

“Dustin, if Eddie told you himself then it’s not a rumour…” You snapped, finally opening your eyes and meeting his worried stare. “He kissed Chrissy, big deal. I kissed Brad…We’re both mature enough to deal with it, Dust…”

“Well…it doesn’t seem like it…” He whispered.

“Look, we’re worried because both Eddie and you have been acting weird the entire day. And not just that…When Eddie told us about Brad, he seemed pretty pissed about Brad kissing you…” Mike called your name. “You do realise that Eddie has feelings for you too, right? Of course he’s going to be pi—“

“What did you say?” You cut him off.

“That Eddie has feelings for you?”

“Oh my god, the both of you really are very blind or incredibly stupid,” You frowned at Dustin’s remark. “Eddie has feelings for you. He got mad at Brad for kissing you. It made him jealous which was why he kissed Chrissy!” 

“Did he tell you that?” You asked.

“No, but it’s not hard to deduce, Jesus. Seeing the both of you pinning for each other is actually very painful…” Dustin scoffed. 

The rest of your day at school, Dustin’s words kept circling your mind, dragging you deeper and deeper into the same thought spiral. Although there was something that didn’t add up. You had seen Eddie and Chrissy making out before you even kissed Brad. However, if what Dustin had said was true, then the day you spent hangover at Eddie’s place was nothing but bittersweet torture not only for you but for him too. Thinking you could’ve finally confessed your feelings for him and perhaps make things better. Perhaps, if that had happened, you’d be with him instead of Chrissy. 

An arm around your shoulders snapped you out of your thoughts abruptly as you flinched and looked over your shoulder to find Bradly next to you. 

“Got any plans for today?” Brad asked cheerfully as you glanced over at him “I’ve got to admit, I didn’t expect the little photographer to be such a good kisser…” He purred leaning closer to you.

“Jesus, Brad. Get away from me…I was drunk, I thought you knew how this worked. You make out with someone at a party, you move on” You said gently pushing him away from you.

 “Not every day I get hard from just a kiss” He purred against your ear, making you shiver and glared at him. 

“Gross dude…” You groaned and pushed him away from you once again “Not interested…Sorry”

“Oh seriously, are you still head over heels for that freak! Even after what he did?” He snapped as you stopped dead on your tracks. 

Turning around you glared at him. Not sure as to what he meant exactly.

“He left the party with Chrissy, people saw them making out, and then, they were leaving. Together,” 

You knew Eddie had dropped Chrissy at her place, because you were with them. You had woken up in Eddie’s bedroom, and Eddie had slept in the living room. Sure, Eddie and Chrissy kissed, but nothing else happened between them. At least not that night.

“Fuck off, Brad” You hissed not really caring what he had to say or thing about it as you were ready to leave when he dared to talk again.

 “Seriously, what’s with that guy? Why is suddenly everyone interested in him? He’s poor and a stupid freak who holds satanic cults and thinks he’s better than everyone else—“

“You just resent him because the girl who gave you a boner actually wants him. And apparently now Chrissy Cunningham’s after him too!” You snapped interrupting him as you spun on your toes once more and gave him a cold stare “You’re pathetic, Brad…Like talking shit about my best friend is going to make me suddenly want to sleep with you…Fuck off–“ Brad took two long steps and gripped you by the shoulders, slamming you to the closest lockers as you whined loudly. 

People starting to gather closer as they’d heard the arguing and the yelling, and suddenly the sound of something hitting the lockers caught everyone’s attention even further.

“Listen here you little bitch,” Brad growled, “You’re just as much as a piece of shit as that motherfu–" 

Before you could even register what had happened, Brad fell to the ground. And you understood that the quick flash of silver you’d seen was Eddie’s fist flying towards Brad’s jaw. His left hand, the one covered with the most and biggest rings. Despite Eddie being right handed, of course he was going to throw a punch with his left hand.

“Do not touch her” Eddie threatening with a grim stare, his black eyes looking deadly.

 “Oh, came back to claim what’s yours?” Brad laughed, as Eddie’s eyes darkened and a rather creepy smile spread across his cheeks.

“Fuck off dude. Her not wanting to fuck you it’s not her problem. Most women in this school don’t either” He replied calmly, seeing the way Brad’s smile dissipated. 

“You’re a real piece of shit, you know that?” Brad barked.

“Yeah?” Eddie asked raising an eyebrow, barely caring what Brad had to say about him.

“Kissing another girl when your allegedly best friend is head over heels for you. Enduring that must be painful, doesn’t it?” The jock said, his gaze moving to meet yours.

“Brad, stop” You said in a low voice.

“And not just that," Brad looked back at Eddie “you decided to go after the big fish and kissed none other than Chrissy Fucking Cunningham…Imagine having to compete with someone with her calibre…” Brad said turning to you “that’s rough competition…” 

“I’m sick and tired of your bullshit, Brad.” You snapped, feeling your eyes get teary, as his words had pierced exactly through your insecurities “You’re graduating this week, stop flicking acting like a middle school boy, grow up” You spat sourly and walked out of the circle. 

“I’m not done with you, you little bitch!” Eddie ignored Brad as he followed you, noticing the way you had clenched your jaw and looked down before walking away. “Oh, you are running away too? Fucking cowards, you deserve each other!” Bradley shouted as the two of you walked along the hall with long quick steps.

An uncomfortable buzz in your ears as you bit your lower lip, and took big breaths to keep the tears from spilling. A lump on your throat as you kept circling around what Brad had said, and how true you believed his words to be. Chrissy was perfect. She was cute, nice, laid back, petite, pretty, confident…Many things you could only aspire to be. And considering how high you thought of Eddie, she seemed a lot more deserving of him than you did. And that thought alone crushed your soul.

“Hey, are you alright?” Eddie said managing to get a hold of your arm, as you stopped abruptly and turned around. 

“No, Eddie, I am most definitely not okay” You barked.

“Hey, talk to me–“ 

“Sure, that’s a great idea!” You interrupted him sarcastically, “Okay so, where do I start? I am so deeply in love with my best friend and it’s cliche and stupid. We went to a party, I saw him talk to the most popular and pretty girl in school, but they appeared to be flirting with each other, so I got mad and drunk and made out with the biggest asshole I could find at the party. I did it out of pettiness, but jokes on me because I just embarrassed myself out there because of my funny little revenge…”

Eddie’s eyebrows lifted in concern as his eyes suddenly changed and now looked concerned and confused. 

“People are saying you and Chrissy left together and everyone is assuming the two of you slept together, which I know to be a lie because I was there, I spent the night over at your place and stayed the entire next day getting over my hangover, you watching over me. And correct me if I’m wrong, but we spent the entirety of the afternoon cuddling and holding hands, and I thought perhaps we were going to pretend like the party didn’t happen in the first place! But I get here and everyone is talking about it, Chrissy is looking for you, and people tell me you’re hanging out with her and I can’t help but get jealous, Edward!” 

Now Eddie had an uncomfortable buzz in his ears, and his heart felt heavier. 

“And now Brad is bitter because I don’t want to sleep with him and apparently you’re now popular because Chrissy is interested in you…And I can’t even be mad at you because seriously, Chrissy is such a catch. I’m happy for you…Seriously. You two actually look cute together”

The whole time you’re talking, Eddie could feel his own heart sinking and dropping all the way to the floor. Silent tears escaping your eyes only making him feel guilty. You sounded mad, but he can tell from the look in your eyes you actually felt sad, broken even. And the only one he could point fingers at is at himself. He did this to you. The girl he had been so in love with, not only happened to correspond to his feelings. But he had to find out in the worst way possible. And it was too late to fix it without hurting anyone else in the process. 

And when he watched you turn around and resume your walking, his own heart began to break. 

 “Wait— Sweetheart—“ He began.

“Eddie, stop!” You snapped looking at him. “Leave me alone for a while, okay? I need to think, besides, I have a job interview and I don’t want to show up with my eyes all red and puffy” You said and turned back around, leaving through the door. 

Right, Eddie remembered. You had told him you’d managed to schedule an interview with the photographer at the Hawkins Post and you were going to try and get a job there over the summer to save some money for New York and gather some experience to write down in your curriculum. He had forgotten the interview was today. In a couple of hours specifically. His throat closed even tighter, making it harder for him to breathe. He had told you he was going to take you there himself. Now he guessed he wouldn’t.

As he turned around after you disappeared behind the main door, he found Chrissy. Her big wide eyes looking concerned and worried. 

“I am so, so sorry…” He whispered.

You skipped the last period and left school one hour earlier to be able to cry peacefully on your way back home and get a shower before the interview. Eddie, however, stayed. After the last bell of the day rang, and people were soon escaping the building like it was on fire. Eddie dragged his feet to the Hellfire Club classroom to get some of his things he had there. Being the last week of school, he needed to take everything he wanted to take with him, or else leave it there for the future generations. And he wasn’t sure why he’d gone there in the first place. The things he wanted to keep were usually in his backpack or his van. 

Perhaps he was dreading the walk to his van. He’d normally meet up with you outside his van, and you’d go to grab lunch or something before heading back to his place to waste the afternoon away. But he knew you weren’t going to be there. And suddenly, driving on his own seemed like the last thing he wanted. Sitting in silence with his thoughts…Just no. And even risking seeing Chrissy in the halls. She’d seen everything that happened with Brad. And she was chasing after the both of you when you snapped at Eddie before leaving. He hadn’t talked to Chrissy about it, he simply apologized and left; and even though he knew he needed to, he didn’t feel like doing so right now. His mind was still all over the place.

He kept thinking of Chrissy and you. Sure, before spring break he felt that funny feeling in his gut after he made his drug deal with Chrissy. And he knew she felt it too. What he didn’t expect was meeting you in detention right after the break was over. The same funny feeling in his gut, but this was was different. It was warmer. The instant attraction and chemistry felt like a riptide. He simply met you, and from then on, he was met by some sort of gravitational force pulling him towards you. Becoming close friends in the span of a weeks was something that had never happened to him before. And he doubted it was going to happen to him again.

“Eddie?” Dustin’s voice echoed followed by the creek of the door opening. 

“Henderson, fancy seeing you here, you little dwarf” Eddie said looking at him with a hollow smile.

“How are you?” 

“Nostalgic, really. I’m going to miss Hellfire…” Eddie replied, knowing what Dustin meant but completely avoiding it.

“I mean…I heard what happened…” Dustin muttered as he walked inside the classroom.

“God, people really like to talk about other people’s lives. How boring must their own lives be?” Eddie replied, avoiding the topic. Again.

“I’m sorry for what happened…” Dustin whispered your name, making Eddie’s heart skip a painful beat. “She…I know she means a lot to you…” 

“Dustin, have I not made it clear that I do not wish to talk about this?” He said gently interrupting him as his smile faded and met Dustin’s honey eyes. 

 “Maybe you should, you know? But talk to her...tell her everything, I know you like her as much as she likes you…" Eddie rolled his eyes at Dustin. “And, well, you know her…she’s not exactly the most confident nor popular girl, think how she must feel about this…” Eddie’s heart shrunk 

“So I’m the bad guy now?” Eddie barked defensively.

“What? No! Not at all! This is just a communication problem…you two are best friends, you’ll be able to figure something out…” Dustin quickly added.

“Yeah, well…she’s moving to New York in two months…there’s nothing much I can do…” Eddie scoffed. “We can talk and cry about it, go back to being friends, sure, but then what Henderson? We confess our love for each other and decide to walk into the sunset holding hands and kiss under the moonlight, then what? She moves away and I stay here? You have a girlfriend, Henderson. You know how long distance relationships are hard. And now add that she’s going to go there for college…College and High School are not the same, man” Eddie spat, the tension building in his chest feeling slightly relieved, despite the fact that his eyes were getting tearful. “And I don’t know about you, but I’m someone who needs to be able to hold his girlfriend and kiss her and show her around like a badge of honor—” 

“Then go with her to New York” Dustin interrupted, as Eddie stopped right away and stared at him.

 “What?” 

“You heard me” 

“I can’t just pack up and go to New York…” Eddie chuckled bitterly.

“Why not? You want to make a living out of playing your guitar, don’t you? Don’t you think achieving that in New York might be actually easier than staying in Hawkins?”

Eddie’s mind became blank.

That evening, he climbed the tree next to your house up to your window as he peeked inside and found you sitting in your bed with a bunch of photos spread on your bed. It would’ve been a very cute scene if he hadn’t made you cry earlier and he still felt guilty about it. He tapped gently on the glass breaking you away from your trance as you got out of your bed and went to your window sliding it open.

“What the hell are you doing? You know you can use my door right? My parents love you” You explained.

Eddie’s smile soon dropped into a puzzled face as his eyebrows raised and eyes widened in confusion.

“Wait, really?” 

“Yeah…my dad knows his 9pm curfew is ridiculous, but he actually likes that you respect it and drive me home by 9, even when we stay on the sidewalk hanging out afterwards, even if we stay out there until very late… He appreciates that you do get me home by 9 always…” You chuckled softly as you moved away and let him in.

“Well in that case, next time I decide to visit late at night I will use the door…” He said with a cheeky smile and looked around your room, noticing the little details everywhere, thinking how much your room felt yours.

“Why are you here, Ed?” You whispered awkwardly as Eddie looked at you with tender eyes and a soft smile.

“Just wanted to see my bestie,” He replied with a shrug, managing to make you chuckle lightly and nod.

“Well, here I am” You said walking back to your bed.

“How did the interview go?” He asked as he followed you and gazed at some of the pictures as you picked them up and set them on the side table, making space for him.

“Good, I think. I talked to the photographer and said that he was going to talk to the editor…Kept some of my photos and told me to go on a few trial days next week…” You explained.

“That’s a good sign, right?” Eddie said excitedly as you couldn’t help but smile at him despite the subtle heartache. 

 “Yeah, I think so”

“Congrats” Eddie said pulling you in a genuine and tight hug. 

Wrapping your arms around him, you buried your face in his shoulder. And after a few seconds. you noticed he didn’t back out from the hug. His arms suddenly feeling too warm and soft around you, as his smell pierced through your nose. You could feel something radiating from his body into yours, a warm and comforting sensation that soon made your eyes tearful and heart beat fast. The memories of what had happened in the last days flooded your mind and you sobbed silently, hugging him tighter. 

Eddie felt your shoulders stiffen before you clung to him and he knew immediately what was going on. He kissed your head and burying his face in your hair, taking in the sweet smell of your shampoo. 

“I’m sorry,” He purred. “About earlier…Not my best moment...or the last few days for that matter. The last thing I even wanted to do was hurt you, out of everyone at school, you…” He said breaking the hug and cupping your face in his hands as he wiped away the tears from your cheeks with his thumbs. “You’re the most precious thing that school has, you know?” He whispered as you rolled your eyes playfully, and he chuckled. “I mean it! Sure, Chrissy may be the queen of Hawkins High, and Jason may be the town’s celebrity, but next to you, they seem so small…” He purred. 

“Oh please,” You said as your hands reached his wrists. 

“No, seriously, sweetheart” He whispered smiling and leaning closer to you, bumping his forehead to yours. “You’ve got a heart of gold,” He said, repeating what you had said in your drunken state, words he was positive you didn’t remember. “Until today I never saw you snap at anyone before, you’re always so kind and nice…second, you’re so smart it made me smart…” You giggled looking away as he followed you with his stare “I mean it! You’re the first person who actually succeeded at tutoring me, enough to get a much higher grade than I needed. And out of everyone from the senior year, you got the coolest college opportunity...Seriously…New York? Everyone else is either going to Indianapolis or staying here in Hawkins…You? You’re going to the Big Apple!” 

“Stop!” You giggled, getting flustered. 

“And last but not least, I take pride in being a freak, really, I do. And most of the things I do, I do them to piss people off…But never have I ever felt so contempt of who I am until I realized you genuinely enjoyed who I am…You make me want to become better…That is something completely new to me…" his voice died out calling your name. “You said earlier you were deeply in love with your best friend...Which is perfect for me because I am too, deeply in love with my best friend…So much it hurt and felt hopeless when you told me you were moving to New York, so much I tried to look for something, anything that could help me get over my feelings for you so it wouldn’t hurt as much when you left…” He said, his dark eyes glued to yours as he leaned forward again, his forehead bumping against yours and the tip of his nose brushing yours. “But I ended up hurting you…And trust me, that was the last thing I wanted to do…”

“Ed…” You whispered with your heart climbing all the way to your throat and you closed your eyes. 

Without giving it much of a thought, you leaned forward, pressing your lips to his. His breath hitched, not actually expecting you to be the one who sealed the kiss. He was still contempt and surprised. He kissed you back. His lips locking with yours in what was a shy kiss at first. Your lips infinitely sweeter and softer than Chrissy’s, perfectly molding with his as you quickly stole his breath away. 

He moaned gently against your mouth, making your heart race even further. Your hands grabbed his flannel shirt, slowly climbing up his chest until one of your hands made it to the back of his head, tangling with his messy curly hair as you pulled his closer. 

He took this as his cue to deepen the kiss, a soft groan escaping his throat. Moving closer to him, you wrapped your arms around his shoulders, squeezing your chest against him. At once his arms mirrored yours and snaked around you, squeezing you against him, stealing a moan off of you into his mouth, making his blood warm up. His hands slid down your back as you broke the kiss and pulled your legs on top of the bed, breathlessly staring at Eddie. Your heart beating in your throat, as you cupped his face and brought him close for another kiss before he could even say something. 

Kissing you back, he smirked against your lips and moved closer to you. You slowly layer on the bed, pulling him on top of you. Wasting no time, he tried kicking off his boots but struggled. 

“Wait, baby…” He purred sitting on the bed and rushing to take off his boots as you chuckled and sat up, looking at him tenderly.  

After he did, he looked at you and smiled. You noticed the rosy tone in his cheeks, making your heart about to jump out of your chest. 

“Hey…” You purred softly. 

“Hey,” He giggled and climbed back on top of you as you wrapped your arms around his shoulders and kissed him. 

He quickly melted into the kiss, leaning down and resting some of his weight on top of you as you welcomed him and wrapped your legs around his narrow waist. Pulling him closer, you moaned shyly upon feeing his hips against yours. 

Your moan echoed in Eddie’s head as he broke the kiss and started kissing your neck. Stretching your neck to grant him better access to your skin, your breath hitched as his warm lips slid down your neck. 

His name escaped your lips, making a shiver run down his spine as he bit your shin, his teeth gently sinking on the base of your neck as another moan, slightly louder, came out of your mouth. His blood rushing everywhere in his body as he smirked. 

“You liked that, babygirl?” He purred, dragging his lips up your neck to your ear.

“Ye-yes…”. You whispered as you felt your own cheeks grow hotter and hotter. 

He bit your neck again, slightly underneath your ear, making you arch your back and grip his hair. The gentle tug made him groan softly as one of his hands slid underneath your shirt. His fingers caressed your hip, not moving much as if waiting for permission. The sweet and needy whimper that came of your mouth soon after was the answer he needed as his hand roamed your body underneath your shirt. Noticing the way your skin got covered in goosebumps and your breath deepened made his pants feel uncomfortably tighter. 

“Talk to me, Princess…” He purred seductively. “Do you like this?” You whined. 

“Ye-yes…” You whispered. “I-I do…”

Amused by your shyness, he pulled back and looked at you attentively, wanting to see the reactions he managed to pull from you. 

“Can I take this off?” He murmured, referring to your shirt.

His gentle voice caressing your ears and making your crotch ache desperately as you nodded and stuttered and affirmative. 

“Only of you take off yours too…” You said. 

“Ah, m’lady wants conditions equality, I can respect that…” He giggled mischievously as he pulled back and took off his red plaid shirt along with his Iron Maiden shirt. 

You could feel your heart beating everywhere in your body as you stared at him. Hypnotized by all of him as you wondered if this was actually happening. After throwing his shirts to your floor, he wasted no time pulling your shirt off of you as his lips quickly attached to your shoulders and chest, his hands idly playing with the straps of your bra, pulling them down your shoulders. 

“You know…Condition equality includes this as well…” He purred as his fingers gently tugged on your bra, making you shiver. 

“Smartass,” You chuckled. 

“I’m just stating the facts, love” He sand as he ran a thumb over your skin, teasing your breast as he followed the cup’s curve, dangerously close to your nipple. “But I’ll wait for Ground Control’s instructions…” He said kissing your chest right underneath your clavicle. 

“Just take the goddamn thing off…” You scoffed as Eddie’s big curious eyes looked at you with fascination. 

“Desperate, are we?” 

“Just a little…” You admitted, feeling the heat rising up as Eddie’s hands snuck behind your back to undo the clip.

“Just a little…” He repeated.

As he let your bra fall off your bed, he wasted no time kissing your skin. Every now and then teasing you with his teeth, sucking on it, making sure he left some sort of evidence of what was going to happen. Always gentle, he noticed the particular shyness with which you reacted to his ministrations. He went slow, learning how to distinguish every sound and movement you made, and trying to learn the unspoken language of your body. 

Always aware that you weren’t perhaps the most experienced in these things, he asked for your permission for everything. If it was okay to touch or kiss somewhere, if he could take your pants off. And the tender and caring manner, along with his big doe eyes, it was impossible to resist him. Your mind spiraling out of control,as you wanted nothing more that to enjoy your night with him. You wanted nothing more than to feel him all around you. 

Once the both of you were completely naked, kissing and tasting each other’s skin, mapping everything little detail in a beautiful lovely memory, and once you’d made your way underneath the covers of your bed, it all felt too intimate. Sure, you were insanely nervous for what was going to happen, but you were also excited for it. 

As Eddie nestled between your legs, his erection gently resting on your belly, throbbing with anticipation, he had you locked in an intoxicating kiss. The heat of his body radiating into yours, as your legs around him kept him close. Hanging from the very last string of his salinity, waiting for your green like to move forward.

You broke the kiss, catching your breath.

"Wa-wait, Ed…” You stuttered shyly.

“What is it, princess?” He murmured pulling back and staring at you.

“There’s something you’ve got to know first…” The words dragging out of your mouth as you felt your cheeks grow hot at the slight embarrassment, Eddie however had been slowly putting the pieces together based on your reactions.

“We don’t have to do this of you don’t want…” He purred kissing your forehead. 

“I-I know…But I do want to…with you…” His heart stopped at the sincere look in your eyes and your words getting stuck in his brain. He smirked.

“Oh baby I’m honored…” He began, his cheeky smirk spreading as his heart almost jumped out of your  “But you know if we do this, we’re gonna have to marry asap and have my kids right? I’m thinking at least four…” He teased, managing to make you giggle.

“Oh shut up, you don’t believe that bullshit…” Eddie laughed at your remark. 

“No, not at all…” He purred as he “But, if we do this…You’ll be mine, and trust me, I don’t give up easily on what’s mine…” His voice grew seductive as he leaned forward and pecked your lips.

“What does that mean?” You giggled.

“I’ll follow you till the end of the world. Or until you tell me to…” He smiled and kissed you slowly, his lips locking with yours as one of his hands slid down your body down to your hips. “If you want me to stop or go slower, just tell me…Tonight everything’s about you, baby” He whispered.

You nodded. 

His hand slid down all the way to your thigh, now going up, closer and closer to your needy hole. His finger ran up and down your wet slick, as he smirked, proud that he had you like that. 

Your breath hitched as he watched your reaction attentively. His thumb circled your clit softly, watching you shit your eyes closed and moan softly, as you pushed your head back. Fascinated, he felt his mouth grow thirsty as he continued staring at you, hypnotized by your reactions. 

“Can I?” He asked, his index finger sliding to your entrance, teasing you, as his finger continued to get more and more covered in your arousal. 

“Please,” You begged. 

His finger very slowly sank inside of you, feeling your tight walls clenching around it, as a soft whimper escaped your throat. He kissed you sweetly, silencing your cry. 

“Silence, baby…You don’t want your parents hearing and walking on us, now do you?” He muttered. 

“N-no…” You stuttered. 

“Does it hurt?” 

“It’s just…weird…” You murmured. 

“It’ll soon feel good, I promise…” He pressed his forehead to yours.

He continued fingering you. Slowly, patiently exploring your velvet walls, once again guided by your reactions as he allowed you to get used to the feeling. Quickening his pace and eventually sliding a second finger in. Your sweet quiet moans fueling him, making him desperate to claim you as his, growing addicted to the beautiful sounds you made and the way you so desperately called his name. He kept going, building up a rhythm you could easily grow used to, until he had you cumming around his fingers. Proud of the mess the made of you, his cramped fingers still buried deep inside you, he took in the gorgeous image of your body slightly shaky and covered in a thin layer of sweat. 

“Fuck, your beautiful…” He purred. 

“Kiss me, Eddie…“ You whined. “Kiss me, please” 

Obediently, he kissed you, swallowing your whines as he could taste the universe in your mouth. His heart full and body hot, he slowly pulled his fingers out, pulling a soft grunt out of you. One he gladly drank from your kiss as well. As the world came back to focus, you clung to him, being painfully away of his length still on your belly. You shivered at the thought of eventually having it inside you. 

“E-Eddie…” You whispered breathless. “I want you” You purred. 

He felt a shiver run down his spine as he smiled and looked at you, his black eyes devouring you with adoration. 

“Your wish is my command, baby…” He muttered as he wasted no time, running his wet fingers over his erection, coating his dick with your arousal and positioning himself against your entrance. 

He looked at you one last time for consent as you gave him a shy nod. And with that, he pushed inside of you. Slowly. Very slowly. A gasp caught in his throat, as your tight walls seemed to squeeze around him, gently sucking him as you covered your own mouth with one of your hands, muffling the moan fighting its way out. Feeling ecstatic, he closed his eyes, enjoying the sweet feeling of your warmth surrounding him as he bottomed out. As he went all in, he looked down, watching his pelvis connecting to yours, getting another shiver down his back. He smirked and leaned down, kissing your cheek. 

“You’re all mine now…” He whispered kissing your jaw as you arched your back, wrapping your arms around him. 

“I’m yours, Eddie…” God, your words made him light headed as he started moving in and out of you, slow at first. 

Eddie, who had a few encounters here and there wasn’t exactly crazy about sex. Sure, he had his kinks and had fun every time he had the chance to have sex, but he wasn’t someone who’s actively go around flirting with people, looking for someone to take back to his bed. But this, with you, oh, he could definitely see himself getting addicted to doing this with you. It was far more than just the sex and the adrenaline running through his veins. It was the intimacy of it. Your body so close to his, your whispers and moans cooing him, the way your touch set him on fire. Sex had never felt this good before. 

His thrusts going deeper and deeper and getting faster and faster, he still remained collected, reminding himself that this was your first time. Besides, he loved attentively watching the way you moved and reacted. The way you opened your mouth and said nonsense with every push. The way your face got all flustered every time he praised you. And god, the way you told him over and over you were his. And only his. His heart beating alongside yours as you both shared this moment, getting drunk and lost in each other, as every piece of your heart was on the table. Caught fire, and skin tingling. It was such an addictive feeling.

What were you doing to him?

Nothing in his life had ever felt so gratifying as that moment right there. And he knew he did not want to let you go. Not when you left to New York, not ever. He would definitely keep his word and follow you to the end of the world. 

Low moans and sweet nothings dissipated in the air, caught between the hungry kisses of two lovers. Their bodies melting together and the pleasure increasing with every second, thirsty for that high at the end of the road. The ecstasy of both of your orgasm condensing slowly. Eddie cumming shortly before you, but not stopping until you were pushed off the edge as well. Blissfully giving in to that relaxing burn and tingling his entire body, washing over him as your walls clenched around him, and he moaned with his face nuzzled against your neck. 

Once the both of you came off your highs, Eddie was still lying on top of you, catching his breath as his entire body melted on top of yours, relaxed, ready to fall asleep for the next several weeks. He hummed softly and kissed your chest.

You stared at Eddie with melting eyes, smiling at the sight of him leaving small pecks all over your skin.  He eventually noticed you staring at him and blushed lightly. 

"What?” He whispered. 

“You meant that?” You asked with a low purr. 

“What exactly?” He hummed slightly sleepy resting his chin over your chest, staring at you with sleepy eyes.

“That you’ll follow me till the end of the world?” He smiled and closed his eyes.

“Definitely” He purred.

“Does that include New York?”  

“Especially New York…” He replied at once.

“Really?” 

“Is it so hard to believe?” He chuckled softly “I don’t think I ever felt like this about someone…Not to sound like a slut, but I’ve had my fair share of flash romances and one night stands, and none of them sparked in me whatever it is you did…” He said as you stared at him, and ran a finger through his hair, brushing a misplaced strand of hair off his face, “I’d never felt so scared of losing someone…I do want to be with you…whether if it’s here, or in New York…if you tell me you want to pack up and go walking to Argentina, I’ll go too…” 

You smiled, considering his words, biting your lower lip.

“That actually sounds like a good idea…” You said.

“Argentina?” 

“A sabbatical year before college…Perhaps not spend the entire year but…working and saving up money for six months, and then go to Argentina…” You wondered, as Eddie’s smile spread.

“Can we take a small detour to Brazil?” You giggled at his proposal.

“We can go anywhere…” You replied, noticing the dumbfounded smile he was giving you “What?” You asked.

“I seriously am in love with you…” He sighed lifting himself up on his elbows “I know, it’s cringy, saying this right after we had sex for the first time but…” He chuckled at his own comment “I’ve had feelings for you for some time now…” 

“How long?” You murmured curiously.

“I always found you pretty, but since you were often hanging around all sorts of popular crowds, I didn’t really feel like approaching you…” He began “After we met, boy, I wish I had talked to you earlier. You’re nothing like them and you’re far cooler than anyone else in that school…I was smitten after that time we went to have Chinese? Do you remember?” 

“That was literally the week after the detention thing” 

“Exactly!” Eddie said gawking “And when you showed me your portfolio that same day with all your favorite pictures, man, I felt like I’d jumped down a cliff and fell on my face” You blushed.

“Since then?” You giggled. 

“I’m pathetic, I know…” He chuckled. 

“No, you’re not…” You kissed his cheek. “For me it was when you introduced me to your uncle…” 

“What?” You giggled at his confused reaction.

“Yeah…You know you look at him in a very particular way?” Eddie raised an eyebrow.

“Really?” 

“Like you’re immensely grateful to him…And like you genuinely care for him, I saw that look and thought ‘Man, I wish someone ever looked at me that way…’” 

“Yeah well,” Eddie chuckled, blushing lightly “He took me in after my asshole dad ended in prison…I knew having to watch over me and practically raise me was rough for him, I was a kid but I wasn’t stupid, I saw it was hard for him in the begining, and I felt like a burden, but he never complained, though…” Eddie sighed as his eyes suddenly got lost in the distance as he recalled his childhood memories “He never got mad, he was always nice and gentle with me…” Eddie chuckled meeting your stare again “He bought me my first guitar and signed me up for classes after he once found me playing with a broom, pretending it was a guitar while I jammed to Pink Floyd…” 

“That’s cute…” You whispered smiling, feeling a gentle squeeze in your chest upon seeing that sweet spark in Eddie’s eyes. 

“I owe everything to that old man…” He sighed deeply “Specially now because, thanks to him, the girl of my dreams loves me back” He smirked.

 Giggling, you cupped his face and pulled him in for a small peck.

“Thank you for helping me sneak out of detention…” You whispered.

“You’re very welcome, love” He smirked. 

~~~~~~

I hope you liked this one! Please make sure to leave a like, a comment or a reblog, help spread my work please! I also have a few more (considerably shorter) Eddie fics and a few fic recs in my blog if you're interested!

[bump1nthen1ght]

I’m Still Hurting (F!Reader/M!Orc)

Pairings: Fem!Reader/Male!Orc

Genre: Urban Fantasy, Angst

Warnings: (Almost) Infidelity

Word Count: 3376 words

Summary: Your boyfriend does something he’d never thought he’d do, and you’re left to try and pick up the pieces.

Request: can I make a request? About an angst story between an m!orc and f!human. I like the idea of like maybe the orc sorta misses being with other orc women or like she can't fulfill his needs and she hears this. I like the idea of almost infidelity

A/N: Surprise bitches! I’m alive! And back with some delicious angst for y’all!! I really loved doing this request, as I don’t often write full on angst. I am also working on a fluffy request  at the moment, if some of you would like some nice comfort after this haha. Hope y’all enjoy!

Honey ❤️: Babe

Honey ❤️: Babe please answer the phone I need to talk to you

Honey ❤️: I know you’re angry, you should be angry, but please talk to me

Honey ❤️: Baby please

“____? Is that my phone?” Brynn yells from the kitchen, already mixing another cocktail for you to down. Her bright red horns peek over the living room divider, bouncing back as she grabs the alcohol from the fridge. Still looking at your bright screen, you don’t even have the energy to respond.

“____?” You throw your phone away as she peaks her head over, giving her a shameful look. Brynn furrows her brow, pulling away from the kitchen island and putting one hand on her hip. “Was that him?” With your eyes darting back and forth from the pillow you shoved your phone under and Brynn’s face, you nod.

“Y-yeah, it was him.”

Brynn sighs, fiddling with her hands.

“Listen, I don’t want to tell you what to do, especially not tonight, but I just think-”

“No, no, it’s alright. You’re right, you’re right.” A jolt hits you as your phone vibrates, the vibrations rumbling through the fabric and stabbing right into your stomach. You force yourself to look away, fiddling with your fingers. Brynn shoots you a pitiful look, you’re sure of it, even as your efuse to meet her gaze. “I shouldn’t talk to him tonight. Not right now, not when I’m like….this.” A slow, tired breath escapes you. “I’ll make him wait, just like he did.”

The coach cushion bends as Brynn sits next to you, rubbing your shoulder as she leans in for a side each. You accept it, your body like a deadweight as you let yourself go slack in her arms.

“Do you want anything? Chocolate, maybe a movie? I’ve got some leftover cheesecake?”

“A movie sounds nice.” You murmur, nodding against her chest. Brynn hums, her tail coming up and massaging your lower back as she kisses you on the forward.

“Of course, your choice. Do you want me to get your drink?”

You nod once more, letting Brynn untangle herself from the hug and laying back on the couch, grabbing the comfiest blanket and the remote. You quickly flick through you and Brynn’s ‘most watched’ section on Netflix. You need something new tonight, something to get your mind off.

All your regular comfort movies are romances, after all.

By the time Brynn comes back, a rum and coke and a carton of ice cream in hand, you’re already snuggled into a blanket burrito. She hands you a spoon and the glass, which you wordlessly accept. She sits down and throws a hand over your shoulder, trying her best to massage the left over tension in your neck. You sink into the feeling, pressing on your movie of choice.

“Mad Max: Fury Road, huh? I’ve heard this movie’s great.”

“Yeah,” you whisper, “It is.”

And chocked full of shitty men getting what they deserve.

As the opening title plays, the deep voice of Tom Hardy kicking the movie off, you snuggle into Brynn’s side. Your phone buzzes again, but it’s drowned out by screaming men and loud engines. Just how you like it.

Honey ❤️: Could you call me in the morning?

Honey ❤️: I’ll leave you alone for the night, I’m sorry

Honey ❤️: I love you

--------

Waruck sighs, his fingers shaking as another small ‘message delivered’ shows up on his screen. No response, just like the last 15 texts. He finds himself typing out another anyway.

I love you so fucking much

It reads, but is quickly deleted. Waruck clicks off his phone, but it stays in his hand, taunting him. The black mirror shows a sad, pathetic boyfriend, getting the silent treatment.

He falls back onto his bed, exhausted from a day of doing nothing. Nothing but worrying and feeling guilty, with the occasional flicking through TV channels and texting his girlfriend.

It’s getting late, his bedside clock cutting through the dark of his room to remind him he’s been up for almost 16 hours now. Waruck slides a hand through his hair and gets up. He’s going to have to camp out in front of the TV, because he knows he won’t be able to sleep tonight.

Not after what he did.

--------

He had gone out with friends. Friends from highschool who he still occasionally chatted with, friends he didn’t even really like anymore. But the past two weeks had him feeling oddly...nostalgic, like something was out of place. So when his buddy Simon had invited him to the bar, he had eagerly accepted.

He remembers grabbing his coat, you sending him a text to have fun, and him not replying. He didn’t know why he didn’t respond, he still doesn’t. The two of you had been going strong for almost 8 months now, with only the occasional hiccup that most couples have. So why didn’t he respond? What made him casually throw your sweet remark to the side like that?

Waruck shakes his head, trying to focus on the movie in front of him. Now isn’t the time to get existential over tiny shit like that, not with how the rest of the night went.

When he met up with the group, Waruck immediately knew that tonight was going to be different. His current group of friends are quite different, less rowdy, than his old posse. At only 10 PM, three of the guys we’re already halfway drunk, saving a spot in line from him outside the noisy bar. The electronic music that thrummed through the concrete and out onto the street reminded him of how much time has passed, how different his usual party-scene is now, and he revels in that feeling of former good-times.

Simon greets him with a hug, the guys shouting his name as he joins them. From the corner of his eye, he sees a gaggle of girls giggling.

And that's where it started.

An orc woman, dressed in a beautiful black dress, winks as she passes him at the bar. Simon nudges his side as Waruck takes a drink.

“Dude, that chick is totally sending you the look”

Waruck furrows his brow, stirring his drink.

“What’s ‘the look’?” He says, taking another sip of his scotch.

Simon rolls his eyes. “The ‘come hit on me’ look dude! That’s the sign you need to go for it!”

“I have a girlfriend, Simon.”

Simon scoffs, throwing his hand out dramatically. “What, that human chick?”

Waruck has half of mind to set down his drink and ask Simon what he means with that sarcastic tone of voice. It pisses him off, but he says nothing, just rolls his eyes.

“No offense, bro, she looks cute and all. But is she really worth missing out on some great ass?”

Waruck grimaces and shoots Simon a dirty look. “Jesus, Simon, are you serious?”

“I’m serious! When was the last time you had fun, y’know? Everyone knows an orc chick can throw down, wild-style.” Simon nudges him in his side, playfully, but it only serves to make Waruck more annoyed. “C’mon, you seriously don’t miss it?”

Waruck should tell him a firm ‘No’, finish his drink, and leave. He should call a cab and go home, call you and rant about his gross misogynistic friend from high school.

But he doesn’t.

The part of him, the part of him that feels slightly off, wonders if this is it. It had been a long time since he had been with another orc. You were a great girlfriend, but so different from in so many ways. Is that it?

Maybe relieving the old days will satisfy whatever longing he has, and then it will leave forever. Would that be so bad, to let loose for one night?

Waruck feels a tap on his shoulder, and turns to see the orc girl from earlier; The one who sent him ‘the look’.

“Hey handsome, can I buy you a drink?”

Between the boosted bass of the music and the orc woman pressing up against him, Waruck doesn’t notice Simon slip away, giving him a pat on the back.

Leave, say no, tell her she’s got the wrong guy, you fucking idiot. His consciousness yells.

“U-uh, sure.” He stutters.

She introduces herself as Naz and says she noticed him the minute he walked in.

“Hard not to notice the best-dressed guy in the room.” She flirts, pressing herself closer and up against him.

He has a thousand little moments like that, to say something; To pull back and apologize, but he doesn’t.

Instead, he slips into a corner booth with her, purposely ignoring the texts you send to check up on him. You had remembered that he wasn’t sure how much fun this night would be, and routinely checked in if he needed a convenient excuse to leave early. You’re sweet like that.

Naz is sweet too. She's a great conversationalist, with a good head on her shoulders and an interesting career in zoology. Waruck could see the two of you being good friends.

Is that why she seems so alluring? Because she’s so similar to you? Waruck’s mind does mental gymnastics to try and justify his hesitance, his compliance in believing that maybe she has something different after all, even though he knows that isn’t true.

The two of them talk for a solid hour and a half, Naz slowly inching herself closer and putting a hand on his knee. His body screams in resistance, his stomach tying up into knots, but he doesn’t push her away.

“So, I’ve got a room not too far from here. What do you say we go make ourselves a bit more comfortable?”

This is his final chance to find an excuse and say goodnight. To run back home and forget this ever happened. But the words are caught in his throat and he’s further silenced by the nearby whooping of his asshole friends.

“Yeah, Waruck! Get some!”

Naz chuckles and mistakenly reads his seething anger at himself with embarrassment for his friends. She leans in, grabbing his jaw, and whispers.

“Let's give them a show, huh?” Then, she kisses him.

The noises of the bar, his friends, and Naz all drown away as her lips mold into his. Waruck’s body goes rigid, terrified as time seems to freeze as he kisses someone who is not his girlfriend.

But all of that stops when your ringtone begins to blast in his pocket. It should be near silent when compared to the pounding bar music, but that familiar jingle seems to cut deep into his skin and skewer his heart. Waruck pulls away with a quick jerk, Naz almost falling over as he pushes himself into his seat and away from her body-heat. Every nerve is a light with tension as he quickly pulls out his phone.

There on the screen is a picture of you, your contact name, “Sweetie❤️”, shining through the dimmed light of that bar. Waruck breathes heavily, feeling like he’s just run an emotional marathon, stuck in his own head until Naz slides away from him.

“Wait, hold on, do you have a girlfriend?”

Waruck looks at her, then looks at his still-ringing phone, then back to Naz. He nods.

Naz's face curls up into obvious disgust, quickly directing her body to be as far away from him as possible. “Fucking hell, dude. What the fuck?” She grabs her handbag and stomps out of the booth, not before throwing her drink in his face and telling him to go to hell.

He almost watches her move across the bar, most likely to go complain to her friends about the asshole she just wasted the last 2 hours chatting up, but all he can focus on is your picture on his phone.

--------

Waruck practically runs out of the bar, his whole body covered in sweat and his mind racing a mile a minute.

What the hell was wrong with him?

He felt like a 15 year old, goaded into another shitty prank just because he wanted to look cool in front of his friends, buying into their weird bullshit about humans. Was he seriously going to throw away your wonderful relationship over one night, over one urge?

Naz had been strikingly beautiful, in all the ways he was taught an orc like himself should look for. She could probably get any guy in that club tonight, but she wasn’t you. You’re different, but in so many cool, inconsequential, uniquely-you ways.

Waruck doesn’t know how long he walks before he sits down outside a cafe, trying to collect his racing emotions. He feels gross, sticky with the kind of sweat you only get after too much alcohol and too many people. The screen of his phone seems to reflect every smudge and finger-print as he swipes it to unlock it, finally getting the courage to read your text messages.

They start off normal, spread out over several hours. The occasional “How are the guys?” and “Hope you are having fun! Just let me know when you get home safe.” before dropping off into nothing. Right up until 20 minutes ago, where you send a short and curt text that has his heart dropping to his stomach.

Sweetie❤️: Can you call me right now?

Sweetie❤️: Waruck, I need to talk to you

Sweetie❤️: Are you still at the bar?

After that is a notification of your missed call from earlier and Waruck can’t help but feel  guilt stir in his gut.

It could be nothing, something unrelated to what he almost did tonight. But the notification he gets from his Instagram says otherwise. It says a mutual of his tagged him in a photo 30 minutes ago.

Waruck feels like vomiting when he opens up Simon’s story and sees a shaky picture of Naz, draped over him in the corner booth, with him looking all too happy to have her there. The caption reads

“At least someone’s getting lucky tonight 🤣🤣 #BoysNight20XX”

But what comes next is even worse; An even blurrier photo of Naz kissing him, both of their eyes closed as she almost sits in his lap.

Waruck can’t even look at the caption, quickly exiting out of the app and calling you.

He needs to explain himself.

But what will he say?

The phone rings, rings, rings….

Waruck waits with bated breath, thinking you’re going to let it go to voicemail, but you answer. There is no cheerful “Hi Babe” or even a tired and drawn-out “Hey.” Instead all Waruck hears is a shaky sigh, waiting for an explanation.

The words stay caught in Warucks throat, trying to find a way to maneuver and swing around to a solid excuse, a lie he hopes you won’t catch.

But he can’t, he can’t. Not to you.

So you make it easy for him, like you always do, and start the conversation off instead.

“Were you flirting with that girl?”

Waruck’s mind doesn’t give him a choice, the truth already spilling out like a tidal wave.

“Yes.”

Waruck hears you suck in a breath, before you shakily ask once more,

“Did you kiss her? Did you kiss her back?”

“Yes.”

There's 15 seconds of brutal silence as Waruck sits with his confession. In the moment, Waruck feels like he can hear your pounding heartbeat through the receiver.

You hang up.

---------

You hate the weather outside for two reasons.

One: You had far too much rum last night to enjoy any amount of sunlight. And,

Two: On a terrible morning like this one, it feels unfair that there aren't any dramatic thunder storms.

The bell rings on the cafe door as you walk in, causing you to wince as you pull down your sunglasses.

Thank god for the low lighting of these cafes.

You rub your brow, eyes scanning the menu above the bar. Some caffeine should do you good, at least with your headache.

But when you spot him, tucked away at a table, tapping his foot, all that aching pain seems to fall to your subconscious. Before you can meet eyes, you look away, forcing yourself to re-read the menu and blink away your tears.

You face the inevitable when you put in your order, turning to walk towards Waruck. He’s locked his gaze into the wood grain of the table, his large body hunched up and small, like he wants to sink into the shadows. He looks like shit, with large bags under his eyes and a nervous tension in his face.

He startles when you pull out a chair, sitting down across from him, but quickly curls back into his ball of shame. He looks so guilty, a small part of you wants to comfort him and tell him it’ll be alright.

You punch away that part of you with a baseball bat.

“Why did you flirt with her?”

Waruck says nothing. He looks at you with his tired eyes, big and racked with guilt.

I don’t know. They whisper.

Your fingers dig into your jeans, anger boiling up and through your nerves.

That’s not a good enough answer.

“Were you,” You suck in a breath, trying to control your volume, “Were you going to sleep with her? If I hadn’t called you, would you have-”

“No!” Waruck nearly shouts, shaking the table as his knees bang against the bottom, but he recoils once he sees the way you flinch. “No, I wasn’t going to.”

Those pesky tears press against your eyelids once more. You can feel your nails digging indents into your thighs.

“I don’t know if  I can believe that.” You whisper, failing to catch the crack in your voice.

Waruck’s brow furrows as he nervously chews his bottom lip. He tries to meet your gaze, but you seem to look right through him.

“I know.” Waruck sighs, bringing his hand up to rub the back of his neck.

There's a tenuous silence; Waruck tries to find the words to fix things  while you focus on the details of the cafe walls, examining every nook and cranny as you try not to sob.

“I-I understand if you don’t trust me. I understand if you hate me, or you want to break up. But please, please know that I love you, and that I’m sorry. I never wanted to hurt you. I’ve been kicking myself over flirting with that girl because I love you so fucking much. I-”

You hold up your hand, stopping Waruck in his tracks. He realizes how loud he’s been talking and that people are beginning to stare. He huddles back into his corner, tucking his hands into his lap. You let out a long breath. Waruck takes the risk and looks up.

When his eyes finally meet yours, he realizes just how sad you look. A treacherous tear has begun falling down your cheek, sending a lightning bolt of remorse into Waruck’s chest.

You take in another deep breath, wiping away the tear with the back of your hand. You look at Waruck, exhausted.

“I don’t,”  You falter, but catch yourself, “I don’t want to break up with you. I just don’t know if I’m ready to forgive you yet.”

Waruck nods, fiddling with his fingers.

“Of course, I get it-”

“I’m not done.” Waruck quickly shuts his mouth. “You hurt me, Waruck. Hurt me in a way I don’t think I’ll ever forget. So I need time. Time before I can even see you again without thinking,” You hiccup, but this time you let the wave of emotion hit you, full force.  “Without thinking about that night.”

A lady calls out your order, but neither of you makes a move. You sit in each other's presence, trying to wrap yourselves around the mess of emotions, trying to read the others mind without seeming too obvious.

You both sit here, in the presence of something that's been broken, damaged in a way that’s cut the heart of your chest and slams them on the table. There’s a crack that runs down between you two, inching open more and more with each breath.

But somehow, somehow, you both think you have a chance of fixing it.

[mirkosintern]

Crawlin’ back to you

pairing: dabi x fem!reader

genre: smut with a lil angst and fluff if you squint

notes: reader is a member of the lov, set in the meta liberation army arc (before the war!), possessive dabi, wowee this is my first work!! I never expected myself to be able to write a piece but here we are ehehe this was inspired by a certain tiktok actually. U may have already noticed but the title is from the song do I wanna know? by the arctic monkeys<3

warnings: 18+, unprotected sex, breeding, cum play, dubcon-ish?, toxic relationship, degradation, vulgar language, alcohol

word count: 3k

⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙∘☽༓☾∘∙•⋅⋅⋅•⋅⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅

That the nights were mainly made for saying things that you can't say tomorrow day Crawlin’ back to you Ever thought of callin’ when you've had a few? 'Cause I always do Maybe I'm too busy bein’ yours to fall for somebody new Now I've thought it through

⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙∘☽༓☾∘∙•⋅⋅⋅•⋅⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅

Dabi wasn’t one to do feelings. He’s screwed numerous women, but they were nothing more than some toys to fulfill his sexual needs. Neither did he want to have feelings, nor did he need to. Afterall, his side hoes who begged to stay with him even after all the degradation he’s given them disgusted him the most. He would snicker at their pathetic attempts and cut them off ruthlessly.

However, you were an only exception.

No, he did not have feelings for you, he swears he never did and never will. But you were different from his other disposable sluts--he kept you around. He didn’t ghost you, instead, he kept coming back. It is only because you’re a member of the lov as well, he thinks. You are easy to access since you’re always around the lov base, and he doesn’t even have to worry about getting caught by civilians or stupid bitches who suddenly decide to turn him into the police. You guys were practically co-workers with benefits, fuck buddies where the “buddies” part is questionable.

Dabi didn’t mind that he made an exception for you until that night. That very night where you sleepily decided to crawl into his arms after a rough round and whispered him how you loved the rough texture of his skin against yours. That very night where you pressed delicate kisses beneath his jaw. The moment of intimacy—making his heart pound and warmth spread beneath his cold skin—was threatening. You were threatening.

That’s where he cut you off completely. He did not knock on your bedroom door located in the lov base anymore. He stopped sending those “you up?” texts at 3am. He didn’t even lock eyes with you or talk to you anymore.

It feels as if something heavy dropped inside you, squashing your heart to the point where it’s painful. You try your best to ignore the pang in your chest and remind yourself that you guys were nothing more than co-workers with benefits. However, the enduring heartburn only functions to make you realize how attached you were to him. He’s Dabi, the biggest scumbag you will ever meet, what did you expect? What were you thinking? It should be no surprise this happened, right? But having to encounter his stupidly handsome face every day was not doing any help. You are a girl with dignity, you tell yourself, trying your best to ignore his strong scent of campfire and cologne drowning you every time you guys are in the same room.

The pain is suffocating you for weeks, and you finally decide to completely get over him. The night Dabi brings a bimbo to his room and fucks her loud enough for everyone in the lov to hear—for you to hear—you’re done with everything. You step outside, get drunk, do anything to numbify the pain the raven-haired guy has caused you, and even meet a nice-looking guy who seems to be interested in you.

You are doing good without Dabi.

You don’t need Dabi anymore.

You are not letting him get to your head.

 ⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙∘☽༓☾∘∙•⋅⋅⋅•⋅⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅

A party.

League of villains is all about privacy, but they also started having some fun after uniting with the meta liberation army. Now they had sufficient money, people and place to throw parties every now and then without the danger of getting caught by civilians. Afterall, a number of heroes were in their side as well.

“Not gonna lie, you guys do know how to host parties.” Keigo smirks, picking up a glass of bourbon whiskey. “It’s fuckin’ lame,” Dabi answers as he downs a glass of liquor.

“So, what happened with y/n?” Keigo throws a suggestive smile.

“The hell you mean what happened with her?” Dabi frowns.

“Y’know, didn’t you guys used to be a thing or something?”

“Nah, she was an occasional fuck and that’s it.”

“Oh really? The Dabi I know never fucks a same bitch twice though. I thought she was something special.”

“Special?”

“Yeah, thought maybe you actually wanted her.”

A smug grin appears on Dabi’s face. “Never even liked her.”

“Have you seen her and her new boyfriend?”

The smile is quick to vanish from his face after hearing the word boyfriend. Dabi’s eyes widen, immediately glaring at Keigo. Before he could say anything, Keigo tilts his chin to point something.

“There they are.”

Dabi turns his head only to find you clinging onto some guy’s arm. Your cheeks are flushed –a pretty, pink glow on your face—as you bat your eyelashes at the guy. Bubbly giggles escape from your lips while you stare at him through half-lidded eyes. The guy’s arm is secured around your waists, pulling you closer to him.

Dabi sees red.

His entire body freezes as his grip around the liquor glass tighten. Dabi doesn’t say anything for a moment, but there is no way Keigo wouldn’t pick up how his cerulean eyes are flaming at the sight. “Well, I thought you knew.” Keigo pats Dabi’s shoulder. “Wouldn’t matter anyways right? You never liked her.”

“…Right.” Dabi takes another sip from the liquor, his eyes still fixed to you.

Keigo’s words are true; at least they are supposed to be true. Dabi didn’t have feelings for you. He doesn’t do romance. No feelings were ever involved with any of the women he’s slept with, and he made sure of it. It was so clear for Dabi without a question.

But why is it unable for him to erase the sight of you with some guy as he forces himself to sleep that night? Why are your sweet giggles echoing his head? Why can’t he get rid of the thought of you in that tight, black dress that perfectly complements the curves of your body? Why is the moment where the guy places his hand on your inner thigh replaying in his head? Why are thoughts of you messing with his mind?

“Fucking hell.”

Dabi gets up. This was fucking annoying. You were truly fucking annoying.

 ⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙∘☽༓☾∘∙•⋅⋅⋅•⋅⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅

You tilt your head to check the glowing digits of your digital clock on the nightstand. 2:15am. It’s late, and you haven’t even taken off the dress you wore to the party. You are too tired both physically and emotionally. You’ve done quite a decent job in entertaining the man who’s accompanied you through the whole party, but it was truly an energy-consuming task. You and him walked around as if you guys were the happiest couple in the party; but the truth is that you guys aren’t even properly dating yet. Solely because you have constantly been refusing to properly answer him asking you to be his girlfriend. It’s not that he’s bad looking or anything, but the idea of being with him just doesn’t sit right with you. Ever since you’ve met him, he couldn’t keep his hands off you without asking you anything about consent. You always had to pull his hand away with an uncomfortable smile, yet he never took a hint. However, when a dating rumor about you and him started and spread quickly, you didn’t try to correct anything. Maybe it was because you wanted to pull out a reaction from a certain villain. Maybe your unusual actions at today’s party; clinging onto the guy and laughing at every single word he spoke; was to make Dabi witness how happy you were.

 Truthfully, you were dying inside.

 What was even worse was that none of your attempts seemed to bring an ounce of reaction from Dabi. When have you become so pathetic and desperate? You feel tears welling up in your eyes, hot and burning, but you don’t want to cry. Not for an asshole like him. You take out your phone, find the guy’s name, and text him that you don’t want to see him anymore. You feel a little guilty, thinking that you may have used him to provoke something from Dabi, but your thoughts are too worn out for you to comprehend anything. You flop onto your bed and bury your face in your pillow. You huff out a deep sigh, and the soft texture of your cotton pillow feels warm on your cheeks. In all honesty, you were thinking about Dabi the whole time you were at the party. Whenever the guy’s hand creeped up your thighs or gripped on your ass, you imagined it was Dabi’s, trying your hardest to feel something from the contact.

 You weren’t over Dabi. You never were. Realization hurts, leaving a sour feeling in your mouth.

 Your body shoots up at the sudden, loud slamming sound emerged from your door. Your teary eyes widen at the lean man slamming the door shut. “Dabi?” You ask, not believing your eyes. “What the hell are you doing here?” Without an answer, Dabi’s one hand reaches for your throat as his other hand grips your wrist. His large body is towering over you, and you feel your bed shift as he dips one knee in the mattress. His sapphire eyes pierce through your soul, and you can feel his raging anger just from looking at him.

“You’re such a pain in the ass, y’know that?”

“Dabi, what are you-“

He doesn’t let you finish the sentence, pulling you in for a heated kiss. Your lips open reflexively, enabling him to deepen the kiss. The kiss is aggressive, and he doesn’t know whether it is because of his anger or his pent-up desires towards you that he has been suppressing. The kiss gets sloppier over time, hot and wet with saliva and tongue. He lets go of the grip on your wrist and starts tracing your inner thigh with his thumb, and you let out a soft moan. You finally pull away from the kiss to catch your breath, but he doesn’t cease to caress your thigh. Instead, he lowers himself to your ear. “You seem to really love thigh touches, don’t you?” His low voice and hot breath brushing the shell of your ear sends chills down your spine.

“Huh?”

“I always knew you were a slut, but never knew you were this much of a whore. You would bend over any guy who offers you some touches, right?”

Tears swell in your eyes again at his vile words, but it’s hard to talk when his knuckles are repeatedly brushing your clit.

“I’m… not a slut…nngh.” Suppressed moans escape your lips.

“Yeah? Why are you making those sounds then?”

“Dabi…”

He yanks your dress up and dips two fingers inside your lace panties, making you let out a weak yelp. Dabi raises his brows with a smug grin on his face.

“Oh, so she indeed is a slut huh? You get this fucking wet from a kiss?”

His two digits start pumping inside you, and you grip on his white shirt at the sudden sensation. Your gasps and moans get louder, and you suddenly feel his wet lips against your neck. Dabi sucks hard, making sure to leave dark purple marks from your jaw to your neck and shoulder, as he repeats the step of curling his fingers and pulling them inside and out your hole. “Dabi…too fast.” You whine out. “Yeah?” A sadistic grin appears on Dabi’s face. “Be a good slut and take what I give you.” His thumb reaches for your clit, making your legs shiver.

“Nngh…stop, I’m gonna… Dabi I’m gonna cum.”

“Stop? You want me to stop?”

“No!”

“Do you deserve it though?” he slows his pace while teasing your clit. “Beg.”

It’s humiliating, really—but do you have any other choice when you are this close?

“Please, Dabi… I’ll be your good slut. Please let me cum!” Your desperate cries have him pumping his fingers fast again, and soon you’re seeing white. Hot drops of release coat Dabi’s fingers as he pulls out.

“Say ah.”

“A-ah.”

You obey, and Dabi sticks his digits inside your mouth. Your mouth wraps around them immediately, sucking as if it’s a pacifier. “Good girl,” Dabi says as he pats your head, and it makes your stomach swoop with sick pride.

The bulge in his pants is becoming painful, and he contemplates on fucking your mouth. But he’s too impatient; He feels the need to abuse your cunt right now. He wants to hear your screams and cries as he proves who you belong to.

“Take that off.” Dabi gestures at your dress, and you start undressing as he demands. Dabi pulls down his sweatpants and boxers, causing his cock to spring out. It’s so pretty, you think, and you can’t help but admire his red tip, glistening with precum. He pumps his length a few times and lines it up with your entrance. You inhale a sharp gasp as you feel his whole length inside you. It feels so full; it feels as if he’s gonna split you in half if he starts moving.

“Ah, too big.”

“I know.” Dabi looks down on you. “Take it like a little slut you are.”

Before you could even talk back, he is moving inside you. Your moans blend with the noise of the bed creaking; a perfectly harmonized orchestra to Dabi’s ears.

You knew Dabi wasn’t one to prep you or go slow, but you feel like he’s going way rougher than usual. His wild thrusts have your head lolling backwards, and Dabi does not miss the chance to take a hard bite on your neck. You scream out of both pain and pleasure, and you feel two hot streams of tears on your flushed cheeks.

“Aww, she’s crying.” Dabi says in a mocking tone. “Bet you love the pain.”

Humiliation fills your chest and you turn your head away, but Dabi quickly grabs your chin with one hand, forcing you to directly face him.

“Who’s the one making you feel this full?” he asks.

“Y-you.”

“Did he ever make you feel this way?”

Wait, he? Who does he mean by he? Your alleged boyfriend? Could it be possible that Dabi was doing this out of jealousy? You try to comprehend, but it’s impossible for you to think clearly, not when Dabi is fucking you stupid. “No!” You shout.

Dabi’s free hand reaches for your clit and starts rubbing circles. “Tell me, who does this pussy belong to?”

“You…” You try to answer, but he suddenly lifts up your lower body and slams into your cervix in the right angle. It has you moaning even louder, your insides spasming around his cock.

“I can’t hear you.” He smirks sadistically.

“You, Dabi, it belongs to you! I belong to you!” You’re screaming his name like it’s the only word you know, making his cock twitch. “That’s right. You are all for me, all for me to use. Just a pathetic little slut for my cock.” A satisfactory grin appears on Dabi’s face.

Dabi lowers his body down and grunts directly into your ear as he thrusts even faster. The sound of his skin slamming into yours is so erotic, and you can feel how close you are.

“You wanna cum huh?” His words have you nodding frantically, babbling incoherent words. Yes Dabi—wanna cum so bad—wanna be yours—wanna be your good girl—please, dabi.

“Then do it. Make a mess on my cock.”

“Nngh, Dabi!” You scream out his name as euphoria washes down your body. His release follows you soon enough, painting your walls white. You feel warmth filling your belly while his groans echo in your ear. You’re still sobbing and panting after he pulls out, without any energy left to move. As your blurry vision starts getting clearer, you feel his warm skin and the sting of his cold staples against your back. His long arms wrap around your oversensitive body, pulling you closer to him.

“You’re messing with my head.” Dabi rests his forehead on the back of your shoulder.

“Huh?”

You’re confused, but Dabi doesn’t elaborate. His ego doesn’t let him do such thing.

“When you said you belonged to me, did you mean it?”

You bite your lower lip, not knowing how to respond to his sudden question. Millions of unspoken words and feelings are hanging in the back of your throat, creating a huge lump. You swallow them all and spit out a question instead. “Do you want me to belong to you?”

“Yeah.” Your eyes widen at his unexpected response, butterflies fluttering inside your chest. “Be mine.” His low voice vibrates against your soft skin. Your heart melts at his words, and you cannot stop your feelings from overspilling anymore. At that moment you both realize; you and Dabi were meant to crawl back to each other, no matter how hard you both try and struggle.

“I’m yours.” You smile, “I’m all yours.”

[tinawriting]

Beach trip (R.L)

Requested: Yes/No

Pairing: Remus Lupin x fem!reader

Navigation

Summary: After finishing with school, the group decide to go on a beach trip and Remus finds the opportunity to confess his feelings for Y/n.

Warnings: spoiler of Carrie I gues?? not proofread, alcohol, my english

A/N: Thank you so much @sunrisefairy for posting this and inspiring me, I got so excited I didn’t even read it once so they might be a lot of spelling mistakes, maybe one day I’ll fix it.

Word count: 1.5k

The morning sun hitting her face, the wind blowing her hair, the sand getting in between her toes. She looked at her right to see James and Sirius wrestling in the clear water of the ocean. Lily and Peter looking for shells a little farther away.

At her left, Remus was sitting with his nose almost touching the book in front of his face.

"You should wear your glasses," she said looking at him. He just left and eyebrow, his eyes not leaving the page he was on and she huffed. "Alright, go blind."

A little smile tugged at the corner of his lips, his eyes meeting hers. He doubled the corner of the page and closed the book, smirking at the way she winced.

"What did the poor book do to you?"

He shrugged. "It's easier that way, I don't have any bookmarks."

She looked away from his brown eyes, focusing on the soft waves. "You're a monster."

He chuckled. "You know what else?" He asked leaning towards her. "I also write notes on them, and one time a ripped a corner because I needed a piece of paper."

She looked at him again and moaned. "I love when you talk dirty to me." She said sultry.

He laughed and her heart skipped a beat. He looked so angelic. Little crinkles adorned the corner of his eyes and a dimple appeared on his left cheek. She wanted to see him like this everyday, without bandages all over his body and without that frown he would have constantly when it was close to the full moon. It was almost too much so shifted her gaze to the book on his lap. She grabbed it and turned it upwards, caressing the spine.

"I didn't think you'll be into this at all," she said reading the title. "I thought you’ll be more a poetry kind of guy."

He hummed. "I like this one though, the things Carrie goes through, how her mother wouldn't even explain to her what was happening with her body. How she blamed her for everything. It's interesting how everyone who bullied her regrets it the moment she takes action, but you know it's not genuine."

"Yeah, I think the book made the readers empathize with her, maybe we shouldn't though, she did kill a lot of people."

They kept talking about the book and their point of view. She always liked talking with Remus, he always gave his opinion with valid arguments and respected the other person thoughts, it was a fun banter, and she couldn't get enough of this, enough of him.

A loud splash made both of them turned their heads, just to watch a soaking wet Sirius holding a very angry Peter by his feet and dipping him repeatedly into the water, James' loud laugh filling the air, and Lily next to him with her hands full of shells.

When Y/n turned around again, Remus' eyes were already on her, and he looked away quickly, a slight blush forming on his neck and cheeks. She cocked her head in confusion and put a hand on his shoulder.

"Are you alright?"

"Yeah," his voice cracked and his blush became more evident. "Yes, I'm fine. I'm just hungry, are you?"

It took a lot of work of processing the word that left his mouth because of how hast he said them. She decided to ignore it and just smiled softly at him, nodding.

"We should play a game." Said James with his mouth full of biscuits. Lily made a face and passed him a napkin.

They were sitting together in the lounge of the house they rented for the weekend. Lily and James were sitting on the floor under the same blanket, a plate of biscuits on James' lap. Sirius was sitting on the couch next to Peter. Remus and Y/n were sitting on armchairs. The group decided that with the chilly night the best idea to warm themselves up it was to drink firewhiskey, so it was an understatement that they all were a little bit tipsy.

"Sure," said Peter. "What do we do?"

"Spin the bottle?" Said Sirius smirking.

Remus huffed. "What are we? Twelve?"

"Aw Moony, are you afraid of kissing one of us?" Said Sirius making obnoxious kissing noises.

Y/n decided she had to save Remus from this one. "We should do a bonfire." She said looking at the dark sky behind the window. "The night it's beautiful."

They agreed that if they were going to go outside they had to at least carry all the blankets and the rest of the firewhisky.

Lily and Remus started making the bonfire while the rest made themselves comfortable around them. Y/n noticed how even behind his sweater, Remus' arms flexed as he lifted all the wood. How after lightning up the fire his beautiful brown eyes would look even more bright. How the flames made his face look sharper but softer at the same time. He was incredibly breathtaking, and it broke Y/n's heart to know that he didn't think that about himself. She would gladly remind him everyday.

Y/n smiled smugly at the three boys. After the fire died down and everyone agreed it was time to go to sleep. Y/n, Sirius, Peter and Remus had to decide who would get the big bedroom. The house counted with a master bedroom -it belonged to James and Lily, of course- another bedroom with a double bed and a smaller room with three single beds.

They decided to finish the discussion of who was worthy of the big bedroom with a game or cards, Y/n won.

The three boys made their way to their bedroom and she snickered a little at how Sirius was mumbling profanities at her. She decided it was time for her to go to sleep too.

Y/n woke up in the middle of the night, a loud noise could be heard from the kitchen. She looked at the clock at her bedside table. '4 AM'

She groaned and walked her way to the kitchen to see Remus struggling with a pan.

"Everything alright?"

She watched at how Remus' back tensed and then relaxed, he turned around with a sheepish look on his face.

"Sorry, didn't mean to wake you up," he said putting the pan on its place. "I just wanted a glass of water."

"It's okay," Y/n said walking up to him, amusement all over her face. "How did you manage to knock everything up if you just wanted a glass of water? And what are you doing up?"

"I was distracted." He said scratching the back of his neck and not meeting her eye. "And my back hurts like hell, that bed was made by the devil himself."

She chuckled and passed past him to grab a glass of water for her and touched his arm on the process, she heard him make a sound at the back of his throat and she turned around, her back against the counter. "Alright, what's up with you? You've been weird all day. And can you at least look at me?"

He sighed and looked her in the eye. His cheeks tinted with pink, his scars standing up more than ever, his eyes soft and vulnerable. "I don't know how to behave when you're around."

She frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Are you really going to make me say it?" When she didn't replied, he let out a soft exhale. "I honestly have no idea when it started but one day you weren't just my friend anymore, y-you became so much more to me and it might be my lack of sleep but I don't think I ever wanted to kiss you so bad in my entire life."

She felt her eyes widen and her heart nearly burst out of her chest, her hands trembled slightly at this revelation and she wasn't sure it was out of nervousness or excitement, maybe both.

She smiled brightly at him and reached out a hand to pulled him close, she saw how he hesitantly gripped her hand a little tighter. She reached out and grabbed the front of his t-shirt to pull him down, their lips meeting softly. She pulled his face between her hands and felt how hot his cheeks were, his hands found themselves on her back, pushing her even more against the counter. His tongue brushed her bottom lip and she gladly opened her mouth to deepen the kiss, a soft sound leaving his mouth at the sensation. When they broke apart they were both a little out of breath, soft smiles grazing their lips.

"You know, my bed is big enough for two."

Remus smiled and kissed her again, short and sweet. Just because he could now. He grabbed her hand and led them to the bedroom, getting under the covers they snuggled close to each other. Her head found its way into the crook of his neck, his hand played with her hair until she dozed off with a smile on her face.

[extremelyblackandwhite]

tolerate it

pairing: mob!bucky barnes x reader

warnings: violence, harassing

a/n: at this point do i know how many parts this is gonna have? no i’m expecting there to be at least two more, who knows tbh. this part was originally supposed to be champagne problems but i decided to change it to tolerate it and champagne problems will MOST LIKELY be the next one followed by tis the damn season. “tolerate it” the song is from bucky’s point of view and not y/n.

INIVISIBLE STRINGS - CHAMPAGNE PROBLEMS

If it's all in my head tell me now, tell me I've got it wrong somehow ...

     - We need to talk. - her father stood in front of the door, his police hat hanging from his head. - The chief wants to put someone else on the field. 

     - Why? - her stomach dropped and she felt sick. Why did she felt sick? Someone else on the field would make her job easier, safer. But her job wasn’t dangerous or it hadn’t been dangerous so far. Bucky hadn’t been rude, harmful or anything of the sort. He’d protect her even and cared for her his own way. Last thing she needed was one of her father’s colleagues following her around as if she were a child. She had gotten the name of his enemy ... although she had little to no will of revelling it. 

     - Catherine’s son. You remember him. He’s fresh out of the police academy and you two used to be great friends when you were kids. Already got some info on the mob upstate and he could help speed things up.

    - Edward was an asshole and the reason why he got info on the mob upstate was because he stole it from his partner. - she crossed her arms over her chest. She wasn’t the best undercover agent in the world, maybe because she wasn’t an agent at all but it had been their choice to put her alone on the field. A second person would only mean that any slip from them would lead to her getting offed. At least if she was alone, she could blame herself for any harm that came her way.  - Shouldn’t I have been consulted when you made that decision?

     - You’re not part of the force, Y/N. Besides, the sooner this is over, the sooner you can return to your life. What are you wearing anyway?

     - I ...

     - Y/N, thank god you’re home. - Wanda rushed into the living room, crying. Her senses were immediately heightened and the fact her father held no confidence in her whatsover no longer mattered. Wanda did. - Patrick broke up with me.

    - Patrick? - who the hell was Patrick? She remembered Johan and to some extent Ben could be considered an ex-boyfriend but Patrick? Who the heck was he? Before she could question her about it, Wanda was already hugging her side, forehead pressed against her covered. 

   - Well, I see you’re busy. I’ll speak with you later, Y/N. - her eyes remained on the ground as the sound of his heavy uniform boots registered past her, opening the once closed door and returning it with a closed bang to its latches. The defeating sound of silence haunted both of them as Wanda stepped away, cleaning the tears of her cheeks.

   - I was seeing he’d never leave. You’re lucky you have a very good actress for a friend.

  - Thank you, Wanda. I’m sorry I’m this late. - she pulled Bucky’s jacket which was still laying atop her shoulders. - So, is Patrick a fake person?

  - Don’t change the subject. Whose jacket is that? I called the bar and they said you weren’t there. I was worried, Y/N!

    - I was with Mr. Barnes. - she held the jacket against her chest, the scent of his expensive cologne somehow calming her down. Wanda was right to scold her, she wasn’t thinking straight or safe but yet again she didn’t feel in danger when he was near her so why did it matter?

It clearly mattered to Wanda. She knew danger and she knew what they were capable off, being herself a fan of true crime. Last thing she wanted was for Y/N to suffer an accident or suddenly have an overdose or go into alcohol coma. Yet Y/N couldn’t help but stream into the unknown that was so addictive, the warm blanket of safety that he gave her. She was dumb enough to have gotten into the job so she would see it through. 

The brunette of course knew why she was so sweet on this safety. She had known Y/N since the two were babies and there was no lie or hiding when she was intrigued by someone. It had happened two times in her whole life - with Chris when she was 5 and with Joshua when she was 18. There was this twinkle in her eye, that walk of pure calmness as if there was no problem in life. This, this definitely was another time that Wanda would even regret seeing or love to talk about during ringing bells’ celebrations. 

   - You’re a smart girl, please tell me you know the game you’re playing.

   - I do. - she walked out without any more words. She knew if they were to come out she would merely wound herself and what was the use in wounding herself and holding the mirror of truth up to her face if not to drown in her own sea of insecurities?

She sat on her own bed, swallowed by the covers and blankets, shoes thrown aside and earrings in her hands. What was she doing? What was she feeling? Was it even a good idea to think about what she was feeling or even put it into thoughts? No, it wasn’t because a deep and dark part of her knew what it was and the one who wanted to do good, the one who always did good, perfect A’s, perfect assignments refuse to look at. It was best to sleep, nothing good would come out of her if she were tired and so she decided to sleep. 

Morning came like a bad memory and she was up and at those classroom halls in what seemed like minutes. Things went by slowly and she found herself falling asleep on the top of her hand more than usual and she probably would’ve slept throughout her whole anatomy lesson had it not been for the girls sat on the row above her chatting in a very annoying tone. Usually Y/N would’ve just ignored it and razor focus on the lecturer but today all she wanted was to do was to ignore what he was saying. She found herself eavesdropping on their conversation; apparently there had been some confusion on the city centre deriving to some violence which also in a regular day wouldn’t have caught her attention had it not been for the mention of the mob. Her senses perked up and she started tapping her foot against the hardwood of the ground until the clock finally hit finishing time and she was out of the classroom in a rush.

Y/N held the books tight against her chest as she ran down the street, wind penetrating through the knitting holes of her cardigan as shivering her skin as she continued to run on loose and broken cobblestones not exactly knowing why and where she was running to. Well, she knew where to, she just thought better to tell herself she knew where not to. 

The unlit lights of the bar/club came into view and she rushed through the door and straight to the back and to the door she was told never to open. Her hand grasped the handle and pushed it open hoping to not see it empty.

    - What the ... - Mr. Barnes turned around on his chair, expecting to yell at whomever of him clumsy workers had walked in without the decency of knocking only to see his own clumsy bartender. - Looking for tutoring, petal?

    - What? - she questioned before looking at the books she was holding. - Oh, no I was just ... I heard, I saw ...

    - Good that means your ears and eyes work properly. 

    - I heard there was a commotion in the centre and that the mob was involved and I ...

   - You thought to check on me? - he gave her a toothy grin, hands placed on his desk as he rose from his chair. - I’m flattered, petal. 

   - No, I ... I ... - she looked down at her shoes, feeling his presence as he approached her. - I thought my shift would’ve been cancelled if you or anyone else had been harmed. 

   - No. - he hooked a finger under her chin, gently pushing it upwards. - I’m afraid you’ll still have to work. 

   - Ahh ... good. - she felt her mouth dry up as she stared at him. No, you can’t do this anymore, Y/N. You’ve been compromised, go away, give up, quit, say you don’t want to work here anymore. - I have to tell you something.

No, shit. Don’t blow your own cover, what are you doing? Her inner voice yelled at her.

   - I’m all ears.

   - I ... - she was parched, world spinning around yet for some unholy reason she was gonna come clean and maybe eventually end tied to bricks at the end of the river. Why was she coming clean? What are you doing, Y/N? - I’m ...

   - Mr. Barnes? - a third voice shattered everything, making both the mob boss and the bartender look to the owner of said third voice. Edward. - Oh, hey Y/N, I didn’t know you worked here.

   - You know each other? - James’ hands were immediately on his pockets as he took a step in front of the bartender. Had she not known any better, she would’ve assumed it was a protective stance. 

   - We used to date each other back in prep school. 

The answer knocked the two of them back. Y/N mostly because she would never in a million years dated someone like Edward as one he was the son of one of her father’s ex-girlfriend and two she barely could stand him. James, on the other hand, seemingly couldn’t see his bartender, his very clumsy bartender who enjoyed to pretend to be Betty Draper on auctions, dating the newest bar’s cleaning boy, one whom he particularly disliked. 

   - I see. Well, you ought to know I don’t accept work relationships. If that’s all, I was having a conversation with Y/N. 

   - No, it’s fine Mr. Barnes. I need to speak with Edward myself. - she punctuated the last word as if it spewed poison. Bucky looked at her, hands in fists as she walked out with the cleaning boy by the hand as if she herself hand a place in the mob herself. 

She wanted to throw him to the floor once they were out of sight and had it not been for the fact he was taller and physically stronger than her so instead she shoved him against one of the walls.

    - What the hell, Edward? Your ex-girlfriend?! - she whispered-shouted at him.

    - It’s a reason for us to be close so instantly. Trust me, I know what I’m doing.

    - Stay the fuck away from me and don’t you talk to me. - she pointed at him before storming out but not before realising she had left her books, her library borrowed books, on Mr. Barnes’ office.

She turned around out of anger, not really knowing what she was mad about. It wasn’t like she was expecting her father to pay any homage to her wishes of not having Edward around. It didn’t matter really except of course it did but she would never dare to say anything about it. She knocked on the office’s door this time, one which was opened by a very surprised James as if he expected the two ex lovers to be behind his bar reminding themselves of what love feels like.

   - Forgot something, petal?

   - My books. - she pointed at them laying on top of one of his chairs. - I ... they’re from the library, I need them. 

   - Of course. - he handed them to her as if it weighed nothing. - Anything else I can do for you, petal?

   - Oh yes, sorry I forgot. - she opened her bag rummaging through it to find the box of incredibly expensive earrings she had been nervous about carrying with herself the whole day, afraid of being robbed. The bartender handed him the box, receiving a mere eyebrow raise from him. - It’s an incredible gift, Mr. Barnes but I couldn’t possibly accept it. 

   - Why not?

   - It’s too expensive.

   - It’s nothing compared to what I have.

   - Well ... I’d have nowhere to wear it.

   - You should wear them here.

   - I don’t ... I’m not the type of woman who wears things like these. 

   - Come with me. - he took the box from her, moving away from where he was standing and out of the office. As if she were attached to him by some invisible string, she followed straight away, wondering where they were going. He wouldn’t kill her here, and to be honest she started to wonder if he ever would.

He stopped in front of the bathroom’s, opening the door for her and standing near it. She looked at him in confusion, not entirely knowing what he wanted to do in the bathroom or why he wanted her in the bathroom. Was he going to kill her in the bathroom? She stood on her two feet still for a few seconds before going inside still wary of his intentions, whatever they were.

She could hear the sound of her ballerina slips as she entered the tilled dark decorated bathroom which was cleaner than it did during the night. His hand stood in the small of her back leading it against the black marbled counter connected to the mirrored wall. 

     - May I? - he opened the box and she nodded, looking at herself in the mirror. She stood there, motionless yet with feelings heightened as he pushed her hair away from her ears to put the earrings on her. They were slightly heavy, a sign of their value and her mind couldn’t wrap around the fact such expensive jewellery was hanging from her ear lobes. - You look exactly like the type of woman who wears things like those, petal. 

     - You flatter me.

     - I think you just don’t flatter yourself enough. - she turned her head to face him. She could feel his breathe against her forehead. All she could sense was that, his breathe, the smell of his cologne and the sound of silence. Looking up to him, he could see her own reflection, the reflection of her earrings glistening on his baby blue eyes. She didn’t know what to say, eyes glued to his as they both got close to each other until each other’s lips were touching, melting in want.

The silence seemed to burst into fireworks of each other’s heartbeats as his hands held her waist close to him. They were too lost on each other, both forgetting for a moment who each was to give way to their own choices. 

    - Mr. Barnes? - someone knocked on the door, that invisible string pulling them together breaking as they stopped kissing and stepped away from each other. 

     - I’m busy. - he yelled out.

     - Mr. Barnes there’s someone here for you. 

     - I said I’m busy.

     - No, it’s fine. - she rushed her fingers through her hair, one hand against the counter holding her up. What had she done? - You should go.

     - Petal.

     - It’s fine. - both hands now held the counter, eyes shut. - You should go. 

I sit and watch you ...

taglist: @lookiamtrying @mariamermaid @sebastianstansqueen @unmagically @buckybarnes1982 @mela-noche @lowercasegenius @randomweirdooo @projectcampbell @sebbystanlover-vk @jevans2 @hollarious @itsallyscorner @tcc-gizmachine @saiyanprincessswanie​ 

[iamdeku]

Little Patch of Heaven: Bakugou Katsuki x Reader

A convenience store au in which a certain explosive blonde is your boss, and you have a little crush.

Warnings: age gap! There is a slight age gap here between Bakugou and the reader. Reader is meant to be about 20, while Bakugou is 26-27-ish. This isn’t a huge gap, but if it makes you uncomfortable please don’t read on. Also sexual innuendo and a sleazy guy hitting on you.

You weren’t sure when you had started crushing on your boss, of all people. It had all started off very innocent, a friendship with the ornery man you had wanted to like you. That was all you had wanted. For him to not actively hate you like he did everybody else.

Somehow you had ended up here, throwing furtive glances his way, afraid he would catch you but unable to stop. While he worked the register you stocked the shelves, taking the time to admire him. The muscles in his arms flexed beautifully when he turned items to scan them, and you swear the red light of the scanner highlighted the veins in his arms like that was its designated purpose. Light filtered through the window, the beams hitting his white blonde undercut and fluttering through your heart. You couldn’t be doing this.

There were, as far as you could figure, three main problems with your crush on Bakugou Katsuki. The first was that he was your boss, and you had a strict policy against dating coworkers after watching your best friend in high school date a coworker and have a disastrous breakup resulting in her refusing to step foot in the local mall. Yeah. It was that kind of bad.

Second, Bakugou Katsuki hated everyone, and you weren’t an exception. Sure, you were pretty sure he didn’t hate you the way he hated everybody else, but that didn’t mean he would ever feel the same about you as you did about him. The biggest problem of all, however, was his age.

He wasn’t that much older than you, but what with you working this job while attending college and him being a fully functional adult man who had long passed his college days, you knew he would only ever see you as a kid. It was one of those unfortunate facts of life you’d prefer to ignore.

That being said, you weren’t short of suitors, oh no. Working at a convenience store like this, there were plenty of sleazy guys who liked to come by and pick on you when your boss was nowhere to be seen. You usually just ignored them, trying to make the best of it and laughing it off. Sometimes though, they got bold.

Bakugou had gone into the back room to check something out, and you were covering for him on register when things took a turn for the worse.

A gruff looking man who was probably in his mid-40’s came in, and the moment he walked through the door you could smell the alcohol coming off him in waves. He reeked of drunkenness, a fact that filled you with dread. You hoped he was harmless.

He headed straight towards you, and you felt every muscle in your body tense up. The store was basically empty right now, which did nothing to comfort you.

“Hey sweetheart. A pack of cigarettes, if you please.” He leered, leaning against the counter.

You shrank back, trying not to be too close to him.

“Sure, what kind?” You asked, customer service voice still firmly in place despite your disgust.

He specified what he wanted, and you grabbed them for him, intent on checking him out quickly so he would get out of here and leave you alone with no further incident. He had other plans, though.

“Do you smoke?” he asked.

“No. Not my style.” You shrugged.

“You should. Your lips would look real pretty wrapped around a cigarette. I can think of some other things they would look pretty wrapped around, too.”

You pretended not to understand him, ringing up his total and reminding yourself he would be out the door mere moments from now without any further complications, and you would never have to think of him again. You took his cash for the cigarettes, returning his change hastily and wishing him a good day.

“Now hold on there just a minute,” he said. “You forgot something. You still haven’t given me your phone number.”

You laughed nervously, pretending and hoping that he was joking. He was not, and he stayed put, staring you down.

“I’m afraid it’s against store policy for me to provide my number to customers while on the clock,” you lied diplomatically.

“That’s bull,” he said. “If I was one of those cute little boys that come in here I bet you’d be tripping over yourself to give me your number. I think somebody needs to teach you a lesson. A little girly like you probably has a thing or two to learn that she can only be taught by a real man.”

“Do tell,” you hear a voice behind you start. “What qualifies as a real man? Because I’m pretty sure you’re slime somebody pulled out of the gutter and rolled into a ball.”

Bakugou’s voice behind you comes out as more of a growl than anything else, but the man is too drunk to register the very present threat.

“Oh, is this your little girl then? You should teach her to obey better.”

The word makes you bristle. He’s talking about you as though you’re a dog to be trained, and with Bakugou at your back like this you aren’t afraid of this man hurting you. He couldn’t even get close, especially not with your boss’s powerful quirk.

“I’m not an animal. The only person I obey is myself. I do what I want when I want, so you should leave before I decide I want to castrate you.” You spit the words with all the venom in your body.

“You’d better watch your mouth,” the man growled.

He raised a hand, and for a moment you felt the tension build in your body before another much larger hand wrapped around his wrist in a vice grip.

“You lay a single finger on her and I will blow up this hand. The other one I’ll do just for fun.”

Katsuki runs some sparks through his fingers to make his point, and you watch as the man’s face pales.

“You- I didn’t mean anything by it.”

“Get out of my store. Before she makes you.”

Bakugou doesn’t need to say any more before the man is skuttling off, feet barely moving fast enough to stay underneath him. You take a shaky breath, a bad taste left in your mouth from the encounter. You hated when things like this happened, and though you could have easily taken care of it on your own you were grateful for a little backup.

“Thanks Bakugou,” you said. “I was afraid that one was going to get messy, but you never know. Sometimes they just like to play with their food.”

You shrugged, turning back to the register and going back to work.

“What do you mean?” Bakugou asked.

“Oh, you know guys like that. They’re usually pretty much harmless, but sometimes they don’t take no for an answer, and then I have to get a little strict.”

“That…happens a lot?”

The surprise in his tone confuses you. Surely a man who runs a convenience store had to know that the customers here were not always the friendliest. Or rather, they could be altogether too friendly.

“Yeah. At least once or twice in a shift. It kind of comes with the territory of working here.”

You turn around only to be confronted with Bakugou’s horrified face, and you know the sparks crackling along his arms this time are no controlled display.

“If one of those bastards ever tries anything like that again or so much as makes you uncomfortable, you come get me right away. You got that?”

You frowned, crossing your arms. “I can take care of myself. Besides, it’s no good driving away customers.”

His fists clench, the silver rings on his long fingers clicking against each other. “I don’t care what you think you can do. If that happens again, you come to me.”

That pissed you off. Who did he think he was? You knew he didn’t think much of you, but you could handle yourself.

“Listen, I get it, okay? I really do. I’m just the kid who stocks your shelves. You think you need to take care of me or whatever because you’re in charge of me. Well, you don’t. You don’t owe me anything, and you might just see me as a dumb kid but I’m not. I have it handled, thanks.”

Bakugou’s mouth fell open at your little speech, eyebrows coming together in something that looked suspiciously like anger.

“You think that’s how I see you? As just a kid?” He took a step closer, very nearly invading your space.

“Yeah. I mean, that’s why you hired me, isn’t it? You felt bad for me, trying to pay my way through college.”

“I hired you because I liked you better than all of the other idiots that applied for this job. I kept you around because you’re good at it, but not only that, you’re…” he blushed. “You’re funny. You always tell really good stories about the customers. You see them in ways that I don’t, that I can’t. I probably shouldn’t say this, and you can quit if you want because of it, but I think you’re beautiful. I spend half my time working just staring at you and hoping you won’t notice. I wouldn’t help you out with those guys because I think you can’t take care of yourself. I would help you because…it’s my job, okay? I’m supposed to protect you.”

There was something vulnerable about his last words that caught in your throat as he took a step even closer, close enough to reach out and touch you. He didn’t though, wouldn’t make another move. You weren’t scared to move though.

You took one of his rough hands in yours, stomach turning in knots and face growing warm.

“I didn’t think you saw me that way. I always figured you were looking because you didn’t like me, not because you liked me back,” you admitted.

“You…like me too?”

“Yeah. Why do you think I’m always staring at you? It’s because I think you’re beautiful too. I always wanted you to like me, and at some point it just turned into a different kind of like. I didn’t think I had a chance though. You barely like anybody at all. You don’t even like your best friend. Every time Izuku comes in you yell at him.” You giggle a little.

Bakugou frowns. “I yell at stupid Deku because you give him more attention than you give me. He’s banned, actually, but good luck getting that through his thick skull.”

“I thought you wanted us to get along! I figured it would be a good way to get you to like me if your friends liked me.”

“Yeah, well, Deku likes you a little too much.” Bakugou pouted.

You roll your eyes.

“You’re a little possessive, aren’t you?”

Bakugou grinned. Confident now in the knowledge that you liked him, he caged you in, body trapped between his arms and the counter you were pressing your back up against, the afternoon sunlight streaming down and highlighting your lips, which were suddenly very close to his. He leaned forward, tilting his head just so.

“Only possessive of the things that are mine.”

He closed the gap between you, giving you a honey sweet kiss right there in the empty convenience store, your personal safe haven. If somebody had asked you before starting this job whether you thought you would have a job you loved or a boss you kissed, your answer would have been an easy no. Things had changed a little since then.

You let yourself melt into the sensation of his kiss, fingers trailing up and down the muscle hiding beneath his black tank. You didn’t hold back, having waited too long to do this. By the time he pulled away, you were both a little breathless.

“Tonight, after we lock up, I’m taking you to dinner.”

“That didn’t sound like a request,” you tease.

He looked back at you, shooting you a feral grin. “It wasn’t.”

“And if I don’t go?” You raised a brow, unable to fight off the smile playing on your lips.

“Then you’ll have to pay for your own dinner.”

“Then I guess it’s a date.”

Needless to say, the date went well and you did a lot more making out in the stockroom than you would have predicted, but it was all worth it to have your little patch of heaven.

[spookysmujer]

Issues, O. Diaz

Summary: Spooky and his S/O having jealousy issues at a party.

requested by: @gemini0410

warnings:  Angst, semi-toxic!Oscar, f r e a k y shet 👅 (smut/18+)

A/N: Hi everyone, I finally got a new laptop!! Which means that I can post again, f i n a l l y. I’ll be working on requests that I’ve gotten nearly over a month ago, I feel so bad! This turned out more smutty more than anything, LOL. As usual, please show some love: heart it, comment, reblog, follow and turn on the notifs for when I post, thank you for requesting! And again I’m so sorry this took so long to get done.

(gif belongs to @merakiaes 🦋 miss you babes!)

It had been a long day, the ache in your shoulders prominent as you’re staring down at diagrams on the too thick stack of papers. You sigh as you blink away the tiredness. The half day shift kicked you in the ass as you’re now doing a late night study in the community college library.

The face clock creeping towards 10:45pm, you’ve been here for 2 hours trying to finish up this section that you’ve been struggling with. An exam around the corner. However, the night is still young as your boyfriend, the infamous Oscar ‘Spooky’  Diaz always says. You promised him earlier in the day that you’d stop by the usual weekend party at his place, though you said you’d show up by 8:30pm. 

Where you at 

Nena, hello???

Puta, don’t come by then. 

I got all these other hynas anyways 

You pick up your phone again, the 4th time in a half an hour span, seeing another message come through from Oscar. He has issues when people don’t stick to their word, for everything and anything, if you slip up on your promises you’re scum of the earth. That’s why he reacts the way he does, like he is now with the nonsense. 

“Okay, I am all studied out and I gotta go, before he sends someone to get my ass. Thanks for studying with me, I appreciate it.” You begin to collect all your papers and stationary items which consists of far too many highlighters. “Yeah, of course no problem, whenever you need it!”

After gathering all your things and exiting the library, you send a text to Oscar that you are finally on your way, though he reads it and doesn’t reply. By this alone, you know it will be a long night ahead of you. Issues run deep between the two of you. It falls more heavy on Oscar’s side, you tend to be a bit more tame. When it comes to him, he can make it very... personal.

The music is bumping, feeling the bass of it as you step out of your car. The front lawn filled with a few people, most of them all drunk and half asleep already. You trek through the house, keeping an eye for a hot-headed Santo. The idea of a red Oscar making you laugh to yourself. After finally getting through the house to the backyard, you spot him chatting away with other santos.

One of them happens to look your way and nudges your boyfriend to which he follows his line of sight and spots you. He stares at you with a look of almost disgust. He doesn’t move from his spot for a moment, finishing his conversation and then his beer.

You sigh, walking over to the cooler to get a beer because though you aren’t much of a drinker you know how tonight will pan out, so all the help you can get to get through it.

“Why you here for?” He says, sporty the signature ‘Spooky’ look. You know how he likes to play this game.

You take a sip of the cold, bitter liquid, “Here for the party like I told you I would be.” He lets out a breathy laugh, sliding his tongue between his lips while looking down at you. “Yeah, told you not to come by since you wanna be fake. Show up by 8:30 my ass, pendeja.”

Now the tone his voice is changing, he’s looking for a fight. Though Oscar can hold his alcohol, it does boost ego more than usual. You roll your eyes, shifting your weight onto your other leg and shoving your free hand into your pants pocket.

“I told you that, yes. But I did tell you that I’d be studying after work so you know what that means too. I’m here though so let’s enjoy the night, hm?” You pull your hand out of your pocket to wrap your arm around his waist but he stops you, “Nah, you didn’t have to go out of your way to come, go. Go back to studying with your puta friends.”

And he knows exactly how to get under your skin, talking all kinds of shit.

Before you can retort back, your phone buzzes in your pocket. Your eyes still on Oscar’s, him with a sly smirk on his face. You pull your phone out and see it lighting up with your friends name, Ricardo.

That ‘Game Over’ voices play in your head as you stare down at the illuminated phone screen, you click the lock button a couple of times to end the call and you quickly shove your phone in your pocket once more. 

Oscar’s eyes flick up to yours as you look back up at him, his lip twitching up. Damn it, you say to yourself. You should have ignored it and continued your pursue on your boyfriend.

When Oscar is really upset, he tends to be quiet, that’s when his thoughts are louder than his words. He stares at you for a moment more then he steps back and away from you, still no words.

“Babe.” You call out, “Oscar!” This time a little louder but he continues with his back towards you and into the house. You let out another sigh which has to be the 10th since you arrived. Heading into the house to see where he went off to, you just in time as he slips through the front door as he slams it behind him. 

When you step out of the house you see him unlocking the car door of his impala. “Where are you going?” You call out to him as he slips in. You hurry over in time to catch the door with your hand before he can close it, “Let go.”

Oscar’s voice is eerily calm as he keeps his line of sight off of you and straight ahead. He is holding onto the door, waiting for you to let go. You pull it more open and stepping closer, “Where are you going?”

He scoffs at you, “You seem real interested in me now but where was all this at 8:30? Hm? Studying with that pendejo, huh? Bet you weren’t even fuckin’ studying.”

The venom in his voice begins to drip at you, his eyebrows touching at this point. The fact you were late and also it was because you were studying with a dude is fuel added to the fire. 

Issues ran deep between you two, especially the jealous issues. Oscar couldn’t help but get insecure, you are a gem. He’s damaged goods and you always remind him that he is more than you thought you deserved, but moments like this one though? Only infiltrates his thoughts more.

“Oscar, Ricardo is my accounting partner. We work in pairs this semester. So yes, we were studying. And you know I was, don’t start that shit.” You explain to him to which he doesn’t immediately reply. A sign that he is trying to reason with his demons.

He pulls the keys out of the ignition, dropping his hands to his lap, “Why’d you hurry your phone away then? Hm? If he’s just this so called partner?”

Demons winning.

You cross your arms over your chest, tipping your head back and closing your eyes for a brief moment, “If you want me to pull up my roster, I can show you he is just a study partner. I did that because I knew how you would have acted, just as you are now. You’re already upset for me being late. There is no reason to think anything, I promise.”

Oscar sighs and moves to get out of the car. He stands and towers over you, looking down and staring deeply into your dark orbs. He searches them for a moment for extra confirmation that he has nothing to worry about. And as he see it in your eyes that it simply was just a study session, he begins to ease up.

“Please, let’s just drink and enjoy the night, hm?” You close the space between the two of you as he wipes his face of any physical agitation. As he does you wrap your arms around his waist, leaning the side of your face against his chest. 

He wraps his arms around you, feeling you under him for a moment as he places a chaste kiss on top your head. When you let go, he looks at you with a look at only means one thing. He pushes some stray strands of hair behind your ear as his eyes begin to rake your body. 

Oscar tilts his head towards the house as he grabs your hand, you interlock fingers while he leads you into and through the busy house. You’re close trailing behind him as a few of his compas give him a boosting look. 

Once the two of you make it to his room, he locks the door and pulls off his shirt in one swift movement over his head, tossing it to the side. You take a few steps back before you sit at the foot of the bed. Oscar stalks towards you and positions himself in between your legs. You gaze up at him through your lashes as he pushes his body into you. As long as the two of you have been together, you two can communicate with each other with just looks. 

Your hands move up to his bare stomach, feeling his skin as they fall back down to his waist and you begin to work his belt. You pull it through the loops of his shorts and then work the button and zipper, it’s a moment of complete lust and there is no tender moments to be wasted.

He pushes his shorts and boxers down enough for his semi-hard member to slip out. You push his clothes down to his ankles to which he moves his hands behind his back to hold there. He juts his chin forward to you to give you the go. You’re biting your lip as you move your face closer to his now fully hard cock.

“No hands.” 

He says barely above a whisper as you set your hands down on your thighs. You maneuver your face to be set directly in front of his girthy length, placing your lips on the tip, holding it between your lips as you gaze up at him. 

The rough inhale from him and contraction of his abdomen muscles tell you that just your lips on his throbbing head alone is enough to send him into the void. You know better than to tease him in moments like this, you know when it’s no sweet kisses or lingering touches that there is no room for torturous or slow whatsoever.

Your mouth opens the more you take him, eating up ever inch of the Santo leader. It’s when his tip hits the back of your throat that you breath through your nose and swallow, your throat muscles squeezing him like a vice. 

“Fuck, nena,” 

Then you been your assault, bobbing your head on his member, up and down and never removing your mouth. When you get back to the tip, your swirl your tongue and suck harder as if its a yummy lolli. Giving Oscar head always gets you turned on overdrive. It’s something about the ability to make him come undone, making him come undone is a feeling that sends shocks right to your core. 

Oscar is letting out soft but guttural groans, the sweat beginning to build around his body. The entire time you’ve been taking him, he’s had his arms locked behind his back but that changes when you take his entire length and into your throat, holding you it when working your throat muscles. He grabs the back on your head, pressing you into him more than you were prior.

His moans getting a pitch louder as he begins to buck his hips forward. You begin to lose your breath and getting in oxygen through your nasal cavity proves difficult as your nose is pressed up against his skin. The automatic instinct to pull back kicks in but he has you in a tight hold against him, he’s now completely fucking your throat.

You push on his thighs with your hands to give him the besides the obvious hint that you need air. As you begin to gag, he finally releases the hold on the back of your head and you pull your head up and off his cock. 

“I’m about to fuckin’ bust, bebe. Go again.” 

After take a few more breaths, you take his slick with your saliva cock in your hand to pump him so you are able to get a few breaths in. You guide him back into your mouth, this time pumping him along with the sucking.

You begin to moan as you do so, adding the pleasure you are creating. And the ache between your legs begin to grow, as you shift you can feel just how wet you are getting. The ache becoming too much to leave unattended. Your hand massages your clothed heat, sending you into a frenzy.

Oscar had his head tipped back and eyes closed since you started again, but when he begins to hear and feel your moans he looks down to see your free hand in your pants. The pleasure you’re creating for both him and yourself draws you close to an orgasm. 

You purposely begin to gag on him and it doesn’t take too long before Oscar cums in your mouth. The release of profanities and groans sends a shock to your cunt, you double over as your hand begins to falter, the orgasm ripping through you. 

After swallowing his seed, he tells you to show him that it’s all gone. He bites his lip and pulls you to stand. Oscar grabs your hand that was in your pants and brings it to his mouth, taking your fingers and sucking on them.

He wanted a taste, you got a taste of him so it only seems fitting.

Oscar jumps in the shower for a quick rinse, as you simply just change your underwear. The night a success as the two you ended up relieving the tension in a beneficial way. 

“And mamas? If I find out you bail on me to study with some puto again, I promise Freeridge will be one less body and with a begging puta for my cock to which she won’t get shit for weeks.”

[thequeenxofhearts]

Bloody Knight

Summary: Jason returns home from a night on patrol. He’s hurt and bloody, and it’s up to Y/N to take care of him.

Warnings: Mentions of blood, bruises and violence

The rain splattering on the window woke you up, but a familiar sound got your attention. You glanced at the alarm clock on your bedside cabinet, 2:49AM

You heard footsteps on the fire escape outside your bedroom window. It was probably Jason coming home from patrol, but in case it was never him; you knew Jason kept an emergency handgun in the bedside cabinets.

The window slowly opened, and you wondered if it was Jason or if it was someone else; someone attempting to break in, or kidnap you as leverage against Red Hood and the rest of Batman’s entourage.

The curtains were pulled back and Jason stumbled into the apartment. You were relieved, but only for a second as you noticed something was wrong with him.

You turned on the bedside lamp and saw him lying on the floor at the foot of the bed. He groaned as he tried to stand up.

“Jason!” You exclaimed.

“I’m ok.” He groaned. You climbed out of bed and went to him, he was bleeding. Blood was dripping onto the hardwood floor, and seeping through his clothes. Mud covered his boots and you saw blood splatters.

You quickly closed the window and drew the curtains so nobody could see into the apartment. Then you tended to Jason.

 You pulled off his hood and removed his domino mask, blood was splattered over his face, along with mud.

“Jay, what happened?” You asked, holding his face in your hands, you listened to his breathing and could tell he was struggling a bit, “Jay, calm down. Just breathe.”

Jason listened and tried to steady his breathing; it didn’t take him long to get it under control, he was used to this.

You wrapped your arm around him and tried to get him to stand, “Come on.” You said helping him get to his feet, he wrapped his arm around you and it was then you realised how heavy Jason was, it was taking all of your strength to hold him up. Sure, most of it was muscle, and the rest was the weight of his costume plus and the rain, blood, and mud that it had soaked up.

You took him into the bathroom and sat him on the closed toilet seat. You peeled off his jacket and dropped it into the bathtub. You saw bruises along his muscular arms.

Ignoring them for the moment, you pulled off the rest of his costume, and he helped with the bottoms. You threw the rest of his clothes into the bathtub, leaving him only in his boxers.

You looked at Jason, “Is it bad?” He asked, “It feels bad.”

Along with the bruises on his arms, Jason also had multiple dark bruises on his torso, a cut that was bleeding and what looked like a boot imprint on his stomach. He had cuts on his legs, but they weren’t that bad. It was mainly bruising that covered his body.

You shook your head, “No, I’ll just dab some alcohol rub on your legs and clean up that cut, it doesn’t look deep. And I’ll get some ice for that.” Pointed to his stomach. You stood up, but as you reached into the medicine cabinet, you looked back at Jason and the state he was in.

You sighed. Grabbing a towel from the rack on the wall, you laid it onto the floor and removed the clothes from the bathtub and dropped them onto the towel.

I’ll deal with that later.

And you began to run a bath.

“What are you doing?” Jason asked. “I’m not letting you get into bed in that state.” You replied.

“Y/N, you don’t need too.”

“I do.” You replied.

Whilst the bath was running, you grabbed the alcohol rub and a pack of cotton balls out of the medicine cabinet and began dabbing the cuts on his legs. Jason hissed as the alcohol stung his cuts.

You chuckled, “They are only little cuts, babe.”

“The little ones are always the most painful.” He commented, “Remember that paper cut you got last week?”

“Alright, ok I get it. But the next one is gonna be a more painful.”

You were lucky that you had picked up a few things from your father, who was a paramedic and volunteered to teach first aid at some of the elementary schools in Gotham City.

You grabbed another towel, a small one this time. You dipped it part of it into the bathtub, you brought it back to Jason and gently dabbed the cut on his torso, he hissed a little bit but you thought that the warm water was less painful than the alcohol rub.

Once the cut was cleaned of blood, you poured some of the alcohol rub onto the drier part of the towel and dabbed it against the cut, Jason hissed again and you thought about how painful it must be.

But it seemed that the pain had quickly began to subside, but you continued dabbing the wound until you were satisfied that it wouldn’t get infected, when you were done you fished in the first aid kit for a bandage big enough to cover the wound, and luckily enough to find several in the bottom of the box.

You ripped the packaging open and covered the wound on his torso.

You stopped the bath running and began to put the first aid kit away but kept one of the bandages out. “Take your boxers off.” You spoke.

Jason chuckled, “You’re very bold.”

“Jason.” You gave him a look that said, this isn’t the time for jokes

And it worked, he took off his boxers and kicked the to the pile of his clothes, you put the rubbing alcohol and the cotton balls back in the cabinet. The you helped Jason into the bath.

He sighed as the hot water touched his skin

The water quickly became a mixture of red and brown as the blood and mud came off his body. You quickly went to the kitchen and grabbed the measuring jug from the cupboard and when you returned to the bathroom, you filled it up with warm water and poured it over his dark hair.

The water washed blood out of his hair and it ran down his face. You poured another jug of water over his hair before you grabbed the bottle of Jason’s shampoo and squeezed a large amount into you hand and began to massage it into his hair.

Jason closed his eyes as the suds began to run down his face, and the bubbles had turned at red/brown colour from the grime in his hair. Then you rinsed his hair a few times before you were sure his hair was clean.

 You grabbed the sponge and the bar of soap that sat on the side, and you began to wash the grime off him, staring with his face. You wiped away the blood that had been washed from his hair.

“That’s better.” You smiled. Jason smirked at you as you continued to wash him.

“So, tell me. What happened?” You asked as you squeezed the soapy sponge onto his right shoulder.

Jason sighed heavily, “It was just supposed to be a patrol. Bruce hadn’t pick up any activity on the bat computer, but he was keeping an eye on it. It was quiet until I heard a scream, so I followed it. I ended up in Crime Alley.”

You rinsed the sponge in the water before lathering it up again.

“A woman was being mugged, and I stopped it but they got away with her purse, so I followed them. I followed them to an old factory a few blocks away, and I didn’t even realise it was the Joker’s old hideout.”

You stopped sponging his back and asked, “Isn’t the Joker in Arkham?”

Jason nodded, “Yeah he is, but Harley Quinn isn’t. Nor are the Joker’s henchmen. They jumped me as I entered the factory.”

You sighed, “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be, Y/N. It’s not your fault.” He reached for your hand and you let him take it. He brought it to his lips and kissed your knuckles.

“The three of them overpowered me, it was Harley who did this.” He said pointing to the injuries on his torso, “But I managed to get my gun, and I shot one of the goons. I didn’t kill him, just shot his shoulder. Then I broke the other guys leg and knocked Harley out. I couldn’t wait for Batman to turn up, so I called the GCPD and I left.”

You kissed his shoulder and pulled the plug out and let the water drain. You grabbed a towel and wrapped it around him as he stood out of the bathtub.

You let him dry himself whilst you went into the bedroom and grabbed a pair of boxers for him to wear to bed.

When you came back and he was dry, you threw him the boxers which he pulled on.

Carefully, you pulled the bandage off his torso and dabbed it dry. The replaced it with a clean, dry bandage.

“Go to bed Jay, I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

“Leave that until the morning.” Jason said as you gathered his clothes and put them back into the bathtub.

“No, it won’t take a few minutes.” You said, running the bath again. You planned to leave his clothes soaking in the tub overnight to get the worse of the grime out, then you could put them in the washing machine in the morning.

Jason wondered into the kitchen and grabbed a glass of water for you both, along with a packet of paracetamol. He was in a lot less pain that he was when he had arrived home, thanks to you, but his bruises still pained him.

He laid down on the bed after taking two of the paracetamols.

When you climbed into bed next to him, he pulled you against his chest, “What would I do without you?” He mumbled, pressing his lips to your forehead.

You smiled, “That’s a scary thought.”

Jason chuckled, “I love you.”

“I love you too. Good night Red Hood.”

“Night babe.”

[pies-writes-and-more]

catch in the dark

Word Count: 1,879

Warnings: angsty feels, unrequited love, an ending that might hurt you a bit, mentions of characters drinking alcohol - all assumed to be of legal age!

Pairing: Sugawara Koushi x Fem!Reader 

A/N: as usual because they’re amazing, thank you to @satan-ruler-of-hells and @thisnoodlewritesao3​ for reading this for me before and letting me know your thoughts! I appreciate you both so very much <3  Also, I’m sorry for the sad feels guy haha that’s just how we’re feeling today.  Inspired by: Catch in the Dark by Passenger

Haikyuu Masterlist

Your name flashed on Sugawara’s phone screen and he immediately gave a small smile. He wished he could hear from you more often, but that smile slowly turned sad, because he knew that you only called him when you were broken.

“Are you alright?” He asked softly after hearing your small “Hi” from the other end.

There was a pause but you just sighed and your voice weakly got out, “I know you’ve got work soon. But can you leave your front door open again?”

He told you okay, because it was okay. This had happened a few times before and he always wanted to be there for you. But he hated that this was the only time he would see you. When your heart was at its lowest, your eyes fragile, dull, no more sparkle that he used to see.

Suga closed his front door, leaving it unlocked just as you asked. And as he walked his way to work, he wondered if he really was as dumb as everyone thought. Everyone always told him that his love for you was toxic, that it wasn’t a good friendship to only be called when you needed him to console you. But wasn’t that what friends were for?

It was his fault for falling for you anyways. For letting you run away with his heart and disappear with it, only to get your own broken and return to him.

By the time he got home, you were on his couch, curled up in some old pjs you kept at his place and a blanket wrapped around your shoulders. Your eyes focused on the old reruns playing on the TV, barely even noticing him come in.

“Are you alright?” He asked, the words feeling like a mantra - something that was always repeated when he saw you.

“I wish I knew what it was like to be hopeful,” you told him softly and Suga could tell that you’d been crying. Your voice crackled with tears and heartbreak and he wanted nothing more than to wrap you up in his arms. “I’ve always been hopeless at hoping... always really bad at coping with this kind of stuff.”

Suga never knew if his words made a difference, but he pulled out some ice cream from his freezer and climbed into the couch with you, holding your hand and gently rubbing your back as you cried over and over again.

“Maybe I’m just not worth being loved,” you joked after you had finally shed your last few tears for the day. Your laugh sounded so genuine, it made Suga’s eyebrows furrow. You were laughing as if you were really joking. How was he going to tell you that you were worth ten times the love that you’ve chased? That you were the sole holder of his heart and that he would give his life just to see you smile for the rest of your days.

“Why don’t you just confess to her already?” Asahi had asked earlier today when Suga told the guys that you were back at his place. 

Suga smiled sadly, looking down at the work in his hands, “She’s never wanted me. It’s always someone else.” He thought for a moment and glanced out the window as he realized how difficult it was to love you. Loving you was like playing catch in the dark, unsure of where you were and unsure if you knew he had thrown something at you. Unsure if you would ever return or if you ever would throw something back. Suga had known since the first moment he had met you that he wasn’t even in the realm of your love life. He was a tear drop in an ocean of flames.

It was Wednesday but Suga knew that it didn’t matter. He pulled out the alcohol and poured you a drink, watching you greedily swallow it down, as if the burn in your throat would make you forget the burn in your heart.

“Men suck,” you mumbled quietly after a few shots, burying your head into your arms. Your watched the liquor in the bottle swirl around as you poured yourself another shot, sighing softly.

“I know,” Suga told you gently, brushing your hair from your face so he could see your eyes. He loved your eyes. He loved how you seemed to carry the whole universe in them, how looking in them was like an adventure.

“Why don’t they ever stay? Why do men always leave?” You seethed in anger, gripping your glass just a bit too tightly. “It’s always the man that leaves.”

Suga’s words were like a broken record, words you had known far too well because it was everything that your other friends said too, “You’re perfect, Y/N. Men come and go but don’t you blame yourself. They’re just trash,” he told you softly. But maybe you would never know just how much he meant it. You were perfect to Sugawara Koushi. 

You just shook your head in response, huffing, “So perfect I haven’t had a stable relationship since high school. I’m so tired of putting my heart out here and getting no where,” you grumbled, banging your head against the table with a pout. Suga winced as you hurt yourself, pulling you up from the hard surface and checking your face for any redness.

“Just got to wait for the right man,” he told you softly, holding your face in his hands and just watching your eyes. How a guy could turn you away he would never understand. He didn’t get why the men you always met up with turned out to be assholes, why you always seemed to be attracted to red flags and toxic behaviours.

“I don’t even think a right man exists,” you murmured, eyes fluttering shut as the alcohol slowly started to take its sleeping potion effect on you.

Suga gave a small smile and laughed out gently, “Probably not,” as if he wasn’t wishing he was your right man. He helped you out of the chair you were practically slipping out of, letting you lean on him while he helped you to his room.

Suga’s apartment was small and only had one bedroom, so every time you came with another broken heart, wanting to be consoled and wishing you could forget whoever you just spent your emotions on, Suga would give you his bed, tuck you into his covers, and take the floor.

Today was no different. He tucked you in, noticing how late it was getting. You were both probably going to be hungover tomorrow and he considered calling in sick for work tomorrow. He pulled his spare pillow and blanket onto the ground with him, sighing as he stared up at the ceiling.

“You’re going to have to tell her eventually,” Daichi had told him, tired of watching one of his best friends take a back seat in his romance life because of someone who only used his heart for comfort.

“If I do, I might lose her,” Suga insisted quietly. “I’d rather stay here in the darkness, waiting for the fact that she might, than lose her forever.”

He was being pathetic, Suga knew this. He shook his head clear of his drunk thoughts, wondering what would happen if he confessed to you now and blamed it on the alcohol. Then he could see how you would take it. Would you be happy? Could you have been waiting for it? Or maybe you’d ignore him from now on, avoid talking to him... your friendship was everything to him, even if he was your designated breakup friend. Even if it was only sometimes, Suga liked having you around. And he didn’t want to give that up for a maybe she likes me back.

“Suga?” You whispered, his eyes shooting over to your direction in surprise. He had thought you had fallen asleep already.

“What is it, darling?” He asked gently, shifting on his side so he could face you.

You gave him a tipsy smile, eyes closed and a slur in your words, “If we’re both single by the time we’re 40, let’s just get married okay?”

Suga’s heart hurt a little hearing those words, “Sure, love,” he told you, even linking pinkies with you when you begged for a pinky promise. He watched how happy you seemed with his promise, flopping back into his bed and mumbling something else about how men sucked. He did, Suga knew they did. But he wished he could show you that sometimes, there were a few guys out there that didn’t suck all that much.

Your promise stuck in his head all night while he tossed and turned. It didn’t matter that it was some drunk promise, Suga finally convinced himself. Because you would never want him anyways. He was used to taking a back seat, being a last resort. He was okay with it, really, he told himself as he squeezed his eyes shut to try and keep any tears at bay. He just wanted you to be happy, even if that didn’t include him.

But what if...

What if he told you he loved you? What if you gave him a teary eyed laugh and shoved his shoulder back, scoffing. What if you’d say, “Took you long enough, idiot.”

What if he kissed you, tasted what that chapstick of yours tasted like? What if he held you in his arms and promised to try and mend the broken pieces that others had left behind? What if he was the reason behind your smile, what if he got to wake up to seeing your sparkling eyes every morning, what if he got to see that face you made when you were really concentrated or when you were talking about all the things you were passionate about?

And what if you loved him back? What if you had been waiting for him to confess this whole time? What if there was a fairy tale ending to this story?

What if there was a future for you two?

All of the what if’s remained in Suga’s head from the time he closed his eyes to sleep to the time he woke up. Maybe... just maybe... it was worth to tell you because what if you two could be happy together?

Suga’s eyes blinked opened slowly as he made up his mind. He wanted to tell you how much he loved you, that it had always been you and that he wouldn’t leave you like every other guy had. 

He glanced at the alarm clock glowing in his room, the one that read 5:15AM. It was now or never. He wanted to tell you. 

Suga shifted to sit up, rubbing sleep from his eyes with one hand and trying to make sure his face was presentable. He was ready. If you two could be happy, it would be worth it right? He turned and reached for your arm in the bed, wanting to feel your warm skin under his fingertips.

Only for his fingers to find empty sheets instead.

“It’s always the man that leaves”, you had said. But this time, you had left him without any warning. 

And just as fast as he got his hopes up, they fell.

Haikyuu taglist (let me know if you’d like to join!)

@al0ehas​ @aurumk​ @devilkittymusic​ @thisnoodlewritesao3​ @satan-ruler-of-hells​ @trashy-simp​ @jeppiet​ @lucyheartfilias-wife​ @darkvadeeer​ @haikyuutothetop​ @wolfishwriting​ @livy384​

[cno-inbminor]

domus - pt. 3 (final)

a/n: it’s done. oh god it’s done. it’s like 2AM so it’s unedited for now, but i’ll make edits in the morning. i also apologize in advance for the slightly rushed ending fas;elifjac you will need to read parts 1 and 2 (linked below) for context!

plot: when kuroo tetsuro drops the hard-hitting truth that he’s fallen out of love with you, your first thought is to escape. but you find comfort in the least likely person: akaashi keiji, a boy you had grown up with out of forced family interactions, who always seemed so distant from you. yet you probably knew more about him than anyone else.

characters: fem!reader, ex-bf!kuroo, & family friend!akaashi

wc: ~8k

genre/warnings: angst with teaspoons of fluff; mentions of alcohol and getting drunk

pt. 1 | pt. 2

The grey sheets fail to startle you this time around, granted that it’s been about four days since you first arrived. It’s the constriction of cotton around your body that wakes you up on this Tuesday morning, and your brain can’t fathom why your loose pajamas have suddenly become so uncomfortable. But then the threads tickle the skin of your arms, your legs feel the slight scrape of denim, and your toes have trouble wiggling around due to the constraint of…socks.

Why are you wearing socks to sleep?

Much to your body’s protest, you stumble out of Keiji’s comfortable sheets (note to self: ask him where he got them from) and into the reflection of the body-length mirror in his room. Your vision blurs when all the colors of the rainbow come into place, exploding into a million stars as you lose a bit of your balance. Thankfully, your hand finds purchase against the wall and allows you to regain some stability. It only takes a few seconds, overwhelmingly agonizing as they are, before you can properly assess your current state.

Yesterday’s outfit glares back at you, though much more mussed and wrinkled than you last saw it. Similarly, your hair is in a disarray, hands subconsciously trying to take out any tangles while you can. Knowing the state of cleanliness that Keiji keeps his space in, you feel a wave of regret wash over you for having slept in his bed in air-polluted clothes that must have caught who knows how many germs. Immediately, you move to your suitcase to find something to change into, discarding your current outfit into a large plastic bag that acted as your nomadic hamper. As soon as you’re done, you begin to gather up all the layers of Keiji’s bed, fitted sheet and all, and leaving them on top of the mattress in separate piles by how they should be washed. But while you gather the first bundle into your arms, you take a quick look at the clock, slightly flabbergasted that it’s only a little past 6AM.

In your somewhat frantic attempt to atone for your sins against Keiji’s abode, you failed to notice the lack of sun rays peeking from behind the curtains. And much like you’ve done every day since you showed up, you pull the material back and greet the nostalgic view of Tokyo once more.

But serenity doesn’t come to you. In fact, your heart seems to be weighed down by an unknown anchor. Instinctively, your arms come up to hug yourself slightly, knowing that it’s a feeble attempt at best. The weight gradually mixes with a grasp of suffocation and the feeling closes around your throat. Immediately, you seek a source of fresh air, eyes catching a handle on the window that you somehow missed all these days. This means that Keiji has two separate doors to the balcony, including the one in the living room, and you do your best to quickly yet quietly slide the pane open. As soon as there’s enough space for you to slide through, you practically bound out and lean yourself over the rail of the balcony, lungs taking in deep breaths of oxygen.

Below you, the city has already begun to awaken, pedestrians the size of ants seemingly crawling their away down the street. Faint car honks echo through the city, the occasional train horn blaring louder than the rest. These are sights and sounds you find familiar, and somehow, the unease in your chest settles. Everything seems okay again, and you wonder why it crept up on you so suddenly.

The realization creeps through your veins as you drink in the sight of the SkyTree: you’re not quite ready to leave yet. You don’t think you’re ready to hop on a plane back to Sapporo and back to the apartment that you and Tetsuro spent the last few years building together. Every corner, every nook and cranny of that unit was filled with memories upon memories, mostly good and some bad. And even if you want to think back on them, to be able to look at them and recall the moments fondly, you know that Tetsuro’s unfortunate confession would immediately overshadow all of it. They would just leave you in the same pool of broken bitterness that you originally escaped from.

You still haven’t texted him.

He must be worried sick, you think as your feet drag you back inside and grab your device from the nightstand. You check through your notifications as you step out onto the balcony again, and after a few minutes, your thumb hovers over his conversation thread. A stinging pain courses through your system at the nickname you have set for his contact, and you hate it. You hate how fresh it still feels, completely and utterly frustrated at yourself that part of you still hasn’t let go of him. Why couldn’t you be stronger than this?

But despite your distress, you tap on it and hesitate above the keyboard, trying to think of the right words. Only a few come to your mind, and before you can convince yourself to back out (because you owed him at least this much), your thumbs type out two words and hit the send button, immediately locking it afterwards and sliding it into the pocket of your gym shorts. Out of sight, out of mind, right? He wanted a text of confirmation, you give him a text. That’s all you would allow yourself without crumbling again, and you were trying to put all the Band-aids you could on it.

Undoubtedly, Keiji’s presence helps. It’s easy to not think about Tetsuro when you’re around him, busying yourself with either work emails or recipes that you want to try out. The former doesn’t mind being a guinea pig, as he so kindly put it on Sunday. In fact, he handed you a cookbook from his shelf that had some recipes tabbed with sticky notes, pointing out the ones he thought you might enjoy. Surprisingly, they were all very appealing and to your taste, and part of you wonders if it’s just a mild coincidence. So far, you haven’t messed anything up, and Keiji always finishes his portion with slightly veiled enthusiasm. He knew how much you enjoyed cooking and baking for others, evidence presented by the years of instances when you stopped at their house to drop off your newest creations – so whether or not his compliments were genuine, you took it.

What you don’t know is the number of knowing glances throughout middle and high school that Keiji’s mother would give him as he munched on your edible gifts, pretending to seem unfazed though his eyes adopted a slight twinkle as he ate his fair share. If she could see him now, she’d notice the same shine in them.

Part of you itches to see if Tetsuro read your text message, if he will bother responding. The phone burns in your pocket, but you decide against it, letting it scorch against your thigh as you lean against the rail and watch the sky grow brighter. You miss the carefree mornings like these when you aren’t in a rush to leave the apartment. All that’s really on your mind now is what to make for breakfast, mentally running through all the ingredients that Keiji has.

Today seems like a good day for pancakes.

-

Keiji’s eyes snap open when his phone goes off, mentally groaning when he realized he forgot to turn off the daily alarm he usually sets for going into work. Now that he’s spending a few days at home, there’s been no need to get up so early. He left it on yesterday since they had that early ride on the bullet train, but with all the events that happened last night, he simply forgot.

Keiji sees that his bedroom door remains closed and believes you’re still asleep. But when he stands up to stretch and looks out his balcony windows, he catches a glimpse of your figure through the gap in the curtains. The breeze from the AC slightly causes them to flutter, giving him a better view as he steps around the couch to get a better angle. You look pensive and somewhat defeated, staring out into the open space as the wind from the heights tousles your hair. He wonders if you’ve taken the initiative to let Tetsuro know if you were okay.

At this thought, his eyes are drawn the phone on his coffee table, staring for a few seconds and calculating to see if this is a good idea. Unable to find any issues with it, he steps back to reach for the device. On the off-chance that you did text him, he doubts that you told your boyfriend where you’re staying. Keiji knows that Tetsuro would be worried regardless and perhaps might gain some comfort from knowing that you were staying with a friend. So before he can chicken out, he taps a short text, ignoring the fact that it’s been months since the two had last spoken outside of the group chat Koutaro created for the three of them and Tsukishima.      

The lack of an immediate reply indicates that the former Nekoma captain is either still asleep or busy with his residency. Keiji casts one last look at you, noticing that you haven’t moved in the last few minutes. It seems that you’ll be there for a while and lost in your thoughts. There were only a few times in his life when he had witnessed this faraway look of yours, knowing it was better to leave you alone than to try and rip you out of the reverie. Perhaps he’ll take a chance with breakfast today, a small repayment for the onigiri and juice boxes you bought him on the train.

He thinks you might enjoy having some pancakes.

-

The deafening creak and slide of plastic ripping away from its rubber suction startles you. Much like you did when Keiji first scared you on Saturday morning, you turn to the source of fright with a hand over your pounding heart, staring in disbelief as said man walks out with a tray of food. Though this time, much to your amusement, he looks rather apologetic. The humor quickly morphs into guilt as you notice the two plates of pancakes – just how long had you been standing out here?

In a few steps, you meet him and silently take the tray from his hands, allowing him to close the balcony door. There’s no good place to put it besides the ground, and when Keiji sits next to it – legs stretched out – with his back against the plexiglass, you demurely mimic his movements on the other side of the tray. Without a word, Keiji places his portion onto his lap and grabs his own set of fork and knife. You simply stare at him until he gestures for you to do the same, returning the small smile he gives you. Both of you say your thanks before digging in, and you can’t help but notice how Keiji has drizzled just the right amount of syrup and in the way that you like it.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t help you,” you apologize after a few bites in. Despite how fluffy and soft they are, the pancakes have a hard time going down your throat. Keiji had also gone through the trouble of making some freshly squeezed orange juice, yet the sip of the beverage doesn’t help much.

“It’s the least I could do after yesterday,” he says softly, and his eyes let you know he really didn’t mind. “Really, you’ve been cooking everything else. I saw a chance and took it.”

“But still—”

“I was more than happy to do it,” Keiji interjects. “It’s my way of saying thanks.”

“…has anyone ever told you that you’re too kind sometimes?” It’s easier to swallow now.

“Bokuto-san has mentioned it a few times,” he replies quickly, staring at you before you both burst out laughing.

From there, conversation flows more smoothly, topics ranging from the MSBY practice session yesterday to what mangas he’s been editing. The pancakes quickly disappear as the sun beams through the clouds, gradually heating up the earth until it was becoming somewhat unbearable in the heat. Keiji sports a light sheen of sweat by the time you two decide it’s wise to go back inside. He takes the tray before you can even think of grabbing it, ushering you to go ahead and shower first while he washes the dishes. As a sign of thanks, you give an affectionate squeeze around his upper arm as you walk past him.

Keiji pretends that his skin isn’t burning from the touch.

Right as he’s placing everything onto the drying rack, his phone rings from the pocket of his sweatpants. He’s not entirely surprised when Kuroo’s name flashes on the screen – after his text, he figured your boyfriend would either message back with lots of question marks or simply call to demand answers. A quick exhale leaves his lungs as he hits the green button and brings the device to his ear.

“Hi Kuroo-san.”

“What do you mean ‘she’s staying with me’?”

Keiji glances in the direction of the bathroom and hears the shower still running. Chances of you eavesdropping or overhearing would be low.

“It’s exactly what I mean. She’s staying with me for the time being.”

“Why you?”

“Honestly, that’s a good question.”

“…wait, so you didn’t know she was coming?”

“She called me when she was at the airport,” Keiji sighs, leaning back against the sink to keep a lookout on the bathroom. “I was just as surprised as you are.”

“You’ve been treating her okay?”

“Of course, what do you take me for?”

“Sorry, that’s not what I meant,” Kuroo groans. “I only have about 10 minutes left in my break. How’s she doing?”

“As well as someone can do when their significant other suddenly tells them they’re not in love with them anymore.”

The silence is deafening over the phone. Keiji didn’t really mean to slip up right then and there, but he couldn’t help the simmering anger rising in his stomach.

“…I’m guessing she told you then.”

“Just last night. I asked when she got here, but she wasn’t in the mood to talk about it. We went to see Bokuto-san yesterday.”

“That would explain the weird text I got from him last night. Did it help?”

“Yeah, I think so.”

“That’s good then,” Kuroo sighs into the speaker, rubbing his temple with his free hand. “Thank you for taking care of her.”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” Keiji replies. “Though if you don’t mind me asking…how did it happen?”

“I don’t have a lot of time left so I’ll make it quick. It just – I don’t know, it kinda hit me one morning. I was wondering why I stopped feeling like I needed to get home as soon as possible. Stopped asking for details about her day, or at least nothing more than how it was. I’d forget half the things she was telling me whenever she talked about her job. It was nice coming home to someone after a long shift, but I just…it didn’t feel all that special knowing she was the one waiting for me. I love her like a best friend, just not romantically anymore. She doesn’t deserve to get dragged along because I can’t speak up about my feelings, so I told her. You understand, right?”

Immediately, Keiji wants to say no. No, he doesn’t get it. It’s nearly unfathomable to him that Tetsuro can just slowly stop caring about the things that were important to you. He imagines your figure curled up in bed, anxiously waiting for your boyfriend to come home safely. He imagines you greeting Tetsuro happily, blissfully unaware that the man only kissed your cheek in greeting as a force of habit.

He imagines your face falling little by little as Tetsuro explains himself, your guard failing to mask the anguish you were feeling, and it pains him. Yet his torment at the thought could only be a small fraction of what you experienced – neither was this the time to be heavily biased.

“I don’t have any say in the matter,” Keiji begins and tries to keep his voice as level as possible. “But you know she’s not going to give in to your terms, right?”

“I know it’s not exactly sensible, but I’m trying—”

“Do you really think she’d be happy knowing that?” He nearly hisses into the phone, simply fed up with Kuroo’s stubbornness. “You’ve just told her you don’t love her anymore, insinuating that you’d be happier without her – knowing how much she loves you, do you really think she’d let you force yourself to try for her sake? You know how selfless she is!”

“And I’m trying to give her a chance to be selfish for once – this is on me, and I could at least try! I loved her once, who says I couldn’t love her again? I’ll give her all the time she needs and—"

“If you really cared about her, you would let her go!”

“It’s not that simple!”

Keiji has never wanted to punch someone so bad in his life. “Don’t you understand it’d be nothing but torture for her? Every day, hanging onto some flimsy hope that everything will go back to the way it used to be? There’s a high chance that you’d never feel that way again, so you’re going to let her waste all that time on you? That’s bullshit, and you know it.”

Tetsuro knows Keiji’s right. He knows, and he loathes it. His own fear of drastic change caused him to spill all those empty promises to you, simply refusing to acknowledge that his own selfish desires were the demons speaking.

“…I’m glad you’re the one she’s staying with. It’s better than being alone in a hotel for a week.”

“You’re digressing.”

“Let her go, huh?”

“Like I said, if you really cared, then yes. Anything she asks of you, go with it. It’s the least you could do.”

“…I gotta go, my break’s up. Thanks, Akaashi.”

Keiji isn’t doing it for him. “Bye, Kuroo-san.”

Beep.

-

“You cannot leave your room until I let you!”

“(Y/n), what—”

“I need to get groceries and what I’m making is gonna take a really long time, but I’ve been dying to try it and this is the perfect time! I wanna surprise you though.”

“You don’t need to surprise me—”

Keiji’s feet are planted in the entrance of his bedroom door, heels digging into the hardwood as much as they can. After he came out of his shower and grabbed a cup of coffee from the kitchen, you were pushing him towards his room, words spilling from your lips a mile a minute.

“Please?” You nearly pout when Keiji turns to get a good look at your face. “You said you need to work anyways, right? I’d be much less of a bother if I was doing something else.”

“You know I don’t mind you being in the same room,” he says gently, hoping that he never said anything that could’ve insinuated your presence wasn’t welcome wherever he was. “Company is nice.”

“We have tomorrow for that, it’s just this one time. Plus, I’m washing the bed and the sheets are still in the dryer.”

“You didn’t have to do that – hey, what if I need to go to the bathroom?”

“You have to promise not to peek!”

“(Y/n)—”

“Pinky promise, right now!” You demand, sticking out a pinky in between the two of you. Keiji pretends to be annoyed at your antics, but he can’t help but smile as your two pinkies link together and thumbs come up for a stamp.    

“What if I need to get something to drink?”

“Just let me know and I’ll bring it to you. And no peeking!”

“As I promised, yes.”

“Don’t miss me too much,” you tease, and Keiji can only watch a little despondently as you disappear out the front door. He isn’t looking forward to the same sight that’ll occur in three days, though that time you’ll be lugging a suitcase behind you and potentially leaving for good.

Instantly, the apartment feels too empty. Everything is too quiet again, reminding him why he has a difficult relationship with working from home. Part of him is so used to the hustle and bustle of the manga company that the silence in an empty home somehow feels wrong. And now that some liveliness has been thrown into the mix, painting his abode with splashes of gentle hues, the void feels even more foreign.

You’ll be back within an hour. He just has to bear with it for that short time frame – there’s a decent pile of work waiting for him anyways.

It might be a good time to start practicing being alone again as well.

-

With determination, Keiji throws himself into his work, only stopping every couple of hours to lean back into his chair and rub his eyes. His little energy bursts come in various forms: when you first came back and greeted, “I’m home!” through his bedroom door, whenever you come in to refill his cup of water, when you come in with two plates of sandwiches          during lunch time, and when you bring him some tea as a change of pace in the afternoon. Every gesture is strongly appreciated, and he wishes he could help you in the kitchen.

(He tries to ignore how domestic everything feels. It’s a sensation he finds himself getting drunk on, the bliss encasing his nerves with a pleasant numbness.)

Keiji broadcasts a bit of his work to you, talking you through his process and the things he looks out for when editing. With you, he doesn’t have to worry about leaking spoilers – in fact, you look more enraptured with his set-up than anything. He enjoys the awe and childlike wonder that cloud your face. It’s a far cry from the ruminative expression from this morning, and Keiji hopes that he’ll never have to see that face again.

Always a man of his word, he stays in his bedroom while you finish making dinner. Based on the smell and distinct sound of something being seared in a hot pan, Keiji gathers there’s meat involved. Earlier, his food processor had been going as well, though he couldn’t exactly place why it sounded like you were beating something against the counter. You might have been butchering something, meaning there was meat involved. But he knows his curiosity will be pleasantly sated and bides his time with mindless YouTube videos.

There’s a quiet knock on his door before it opens, revealing your slightly exhausted frame. Concern washes over him as his eyes frantically assess your current state, flitting around until he spots where your hand seems to be cradling the other. It could only mean one of two possible scenarios, and without a word, he grabs the medicine box from his closet in search of the burn ointment. You begin to try and explain what happened, but before you can even say that you accidentally touched one of racks in the oven with the back of your wrist, you spot the little tube between Keiji’s fingers and fall silent. His eyebrows furrow as he approaches you, standing no more than a couple of centimeters away from you as he finds the burn and begins to apply the balm.

“You should’ve let me help,” he says quietly, regret laced through the words. His lithe fingers hesitate over the mark, hoping that the salve was applied quickly enough to prevent any potential blistering.

“This is nothing,” you try to soothe him. “I was just lost in thought and didn’t realize that my arm was getting a little too close. What matters most is that I still saved the dinner.”

Keiji shakes his head and releases his hold. “That’s not the most important at all. Are you sure there isn’t anything I can help you with?”

“You can help me by waiting here for another 15 minutes until I tell you to come out.”

“You know that’s not—”

“Keiji,” you firmly interject. Your hands grasp one of his, clenching around them to let him know it was okay. The small burn was no one’s fault but yours, and there was no need for him to feel guilty. “I’m okay, really. All the hard parts are over now, I just need to let something cool down and set up the table.”

The man before you releases a defeated sigh and you let go of his hand. Instantly, he misses the warmth and subconsciously flexes his hand in some strange attempt to retain the heat running through his fingers. “Call for me if you need any help, okay?”

“Of course.”

Once more, you exit his room and close the door behind you. He takes this time to stand by and stare out his balcony doors, watching the sun slowly sink below the horizon. A warm, orange glow fills his room as Keiji turns to look at his freshly washed bed, remembering the way you had scuttled in with an armful of linen and batted him away repeatedly from trying to help. He pictures the way you would curl up in sleep, imagining once again just how nice it would be to wake up together with the Tokyo sunrise.

“Dinner’s ready,” your voice calls out from behind him, stealing him away from his daydream. He makes his way around the bed to meet you where you demand him to close his eyes. The skeptical look causes you to laugh as you continue to goad him.

“I’ll make sure you don’t bump into anything, promise.”

“If I so much as nudge a table with my big toe, I will kick you out.”

“So dramatic,” you scoff and roll your eyes. “Come on, please?”

Giving in to your requests seems second nature now, he realizes as his eyes slip shut, relying on nothing but the gentle hold you have on his hands and the sound of your voice. You do well in warning him about any possibility he might bump into something and Keiji’s trust in you solidifies – hell, they could be on the outskirts of an exploding volcano and he’d let you drag him around with a blindfold on. He can feel the nervousness rolling off you as you sit him down in his chair, hurriedly taking the seat across from him and adjusting yourself. “Okay, you can open your eyes.”

Keiji has to blink a few times to refocus his vision and chooses to ignore the way your teeth gnaw on your bottom lip for the plate in front of him. Two slices of beef wellington sit elegantly on the white porcelain, a glass of red wine in the top corner, and a set of a knife and fork on opposite sides. It looks straight out of a cookbook and he loves that you were right – he would be pleasantly surprised, and your hard work would certainly pay off.

But what makes the smile on his face form is the memory of you two discussing different cooking shows on the walk home from school one evening. You had asked him out of the blue if he watched anything cooking-related, and when he had listed some of the channels he watched from time to time, you rattled off a list of things you wanted to try making some day but never could with time constraints. Beef wellington had been one of those items, as well as a croquembouche, Totoro macarons, and others.

“Did you finally get to live out your Great British Bake Off dreams with the puff pastry?” Keiji jokes, lifting his utensils and beginning to cut through the meat. At his question, he realizes you must’ve been pounding out the slab of butter to be used when making puff pastry from scratch.

“That, and try to channel Gordon Ramsay for everything else,” you chuckle and watch him carefully as he chews on his first bite.

“This is really good, holy shit,” he murmurs and relief floods your system. “Are you sure this is your first time making it?”

“Yep!”

“I’m gonna have to get seconds later,” Keiji says, still slightly suspended in disbelief. You’re practically shaking in your seat from how well received the dish is.

“Try to save some room for the dessert wine later.”

“Oh, you bought some?”

“Yeah, they had the brand we like at the supermarket.”

“What’s the occasion?”

You ponder on that for a bit, trying to find the right words for it. What he didn’t know was that you caught the last half of his conversation on the phone with Tetsuro. At first, you felt a flare of anger when you put the pieces together and realized that Keiji had ratted out your location, almost storming out of the bathroom to give him a piece of your mind. But when you heard him defend and stand up for you, you faltered, hand hovering over the doorknob. Once again, he was holding your best interests at heart and risking potentially fraying his friendship with Tetsuro for you. It was exactly the kind of support you needed in that moment.

So you do what you’ve always done to show gratitude when it comes to Keiji: make something edible for him. In middle and high school, you felt that food was the least awkward thing you could give to him if he did something for you, considering that you felt you two weren’t very close. Permanent gifts were a touch too intimate, and you could always hide the fact that you were gifting him something under the pretense of wanting to give it to his mother instead. Any batch of cookies, muffins, palmiers, or pastries were mainly meant for him, saying thanks for walking home with you, driving you home, entertaining you during get-togethers, letting you win in Monopoly for once, and many more. That was something you originally planned to take to your grave since you figured that Keiji would find it weird or disturbing, but now…now seemed okay.

Just not this exact moment.

“To a new beginning,” you decide and lift up your glass, angling it towards him for cheers.

“To a new beginning,” he echoes. Keiji clinks his glass against you and you both take a sip, his eyes glimmering over the rim.

-

You are very tipsy. Borderline drunk. You honestly can’t remember the last time you got wine drunk, but somehow you just couldn’t stop drinking. If you had to give your best estimate, about 70% of the red wine had been consumed by you. And now that the dessert wine was open, you were nearing 60% of that as well.

Keiji sits on the opposite side of the couch from you, indulging you by letting you watch Ouran High School Host Club through some streaming service on his TV. It had been ages since he last saw anything from it, though he mainly focuses on your how far your inebriation is getting ahead of you. An hour ago, he had placed a cup of water by your side, though there was still half of it left. He wonders if he should be cutting you off soon, but you look too carefree and happy. And from experience, he knows that you could easily walk in a straight line if told to. It was an uncanny ability that you possessed, one that was somewhat showcased when you and Tetsuro showed up at a house party in college he just happened to also attend. Smashed overexaggerated your drunken state at the time, but the glossy look in your eyes now was very similar to that incident all those years ago.

The laugh that erupts from your chest as a result of Haruhi’s deadpan humor is slurred and lasts a little too long to be considered normal. Keiji feels his chest ease up when you reach for the water this time instead of the alcohol and chug it all down. He freezes when you turn towards him with a lazy smile spread across your face, but it turns into a pout when you hand him the now empty mug.

“Keiji-kun,” you mumble. “Please gimme more water?”

“You can’t get it yourself?” He taunts, chuckling when your pout intensifies.

“I don’t wanna acci-acc-accid-accidentally break the mug. You brought it from your parents’, right? I used this one all the time back then.”

“Mmm,” he hums, prying the porcelain from your hands and standing to comply with your request.

Not even a minute passes after he returns when you clumsily shift closer to him. He doesn’t even have to time to internally gasp when you lay down on your back and plop your head onto his thighs, his arms now slightly suspended in the air because he honestly has no idea what to do with them. The best he can come up with is resting one arm on the back of the couch, the other tentatively placed on top of your head. He fights the need to run his fingers through your hair, although knowing it would bring you some comfort as the world begins to blur. It takes everything in him to not look down, but he’s not absorbing anything from the anime. The sounds fall short to the pounding in his ears, and the only time he can remember being this nervous was their last volleyball match during Nationals.

“Thank you, Keiji.”

“Hm? For what?”

“…sticking up for me to Tetsu.”

“…didn’t your mother ever tell you it’s rude to eavesdrop?” Keiji attempts to digress, pinching the shell of your ear.

“It hurts!” You cry out, overstating the pain you felt. In his defense, he barely put any force behind it. “I just wanted to say thank you, ‘s all.”

“It was nothing, I—”

“You really think we’re friends?”

Keiji frowns. “I said that before, didn’t I? Did you ever think we weren’t?”

“Honestly…no, I didn’t,” you confess. It’ll be a miracle if you remember any of this tomorrow morning. “You always seemed so far away…there were a few times when I thought you maybe hated me, only tolerated me because you’d never hear the end of it from your mom if she ever caught you being mean to me. I mean, if you ever think about it…you never talked about yourself, y’know?”

Keiji pauses the TV, throwing the apartment into complete silence. He only hears your shaky breathing and the AC running.

“Anything I ever heard about you was from your mom because she’d tell my mom, and then my mom would gossip,” you continue, chuckling bitterly at the end. “I knew you, but did I really know you? It felt so weird, walking by you in school and knowing what you were struggling with. But then you’d just smile at me like nothing was wrong and that hurt.”

He’s been staring at the same frame for the last minute or so and feels more and more awful with every word that leaves your lips. Somehow it’s everything he’s wanted to hear for years, but it’s also so bittersweet and tragic. But the more important matter currently at hand is the sound of your sniffles. Oh god, are you crying? Keiji finally has a reason to look at you now, studying how a forearm is strewn across your eyes – but he can see the tear tracks and feel the dampness on his sweatpants as they slide down your face. He attempts to move the limb away but you resist as much as you can, though it doesn’t take much. Keiji reaches over and plucks out a tissue to help clean you up, trying to placate both you and the semblance of a heartbreak.

“I was always worried that you were just – hic – hiding your emotions, bottling them up inside until it’d burst one day. But then I had to – hic -- remind myself that you had other close friends to confide in. With how much you got along with your teammates, I figured they’d keep an eye on you…but I still worried a lot. I hoped that you’d finally open up during our family dinners someday. Instead, it took a break-up and me getting drunk.”

He’s frozen when you lift your hand to his face, the tips of your fingers barely ghosting over his jawline. The anguish in your eyes is palpable; he can’t help but broaden the contact, leaning into your palm until it’s cradling his cheek while maintaining eye contact with you.

“You were okay, right?” You whisper. “You could talk to Koutaro? Or Akinori?”

Keiji’s gaze softens considerably. He analyzes the drooping of your eyelids, how they fight to stay open until you receive a desirable answer from him. It’s incredibly touching how much you wanted to reach out to him during all those years, waiting, wishing, hoping. You were right – he did expose some of his more vulnerable moments to his teammates. But that doesn’t mean he didn’t have days where he ached to call you and spill every negative emotion he was feeling.

“I was okay, I promise,” Keiji reassures you, giving in to comb through your hair. “Thank you, (y/n), for caring about me.”

Your arm slowly drops from its hold and curls up against your chest. Even in your drunken state, you feel at peace, like the world has finally been lifted from your shoulders. It’s the answer that you’ve been silently searching for all this time, the unknown stewing and festering in the back of your mind.  

“I’m…glad…”

Keiji observes as you fall asleep and your breaths even out. With a heavy sigh, he gathers you into his arms bridal-style, hoping that the jostling doesn’t wake you up. Just like last night, he tucks you into bed, though not without leaving a gentle press of his lips against your temple.

The futon is cold and lonely. He’s really starting to not like it very much.

-

Wednesday and Thursday fly by so fast that he wonders if he accidentally time-traveled into Friday. Before he knows it, you’re rolling your suitcase out of his bedroom and towards his front door. As you slip on your shoes, your mind rattles off the locations of your important things: phone, wallet, keys, passport, driver’s license, and more. You turn back to look at your gracious host, shooting him your most appreciative smile.

“Thank you for everything this past week, Keiji. You don’t know how much it means to me, and I promise I’ll pay you back somehow.”

“I was happy to have you, and you’ve done more than you needed to in trying to pay me back. Are you sure you don’t need me to drop you off at the airport?”

“I couldn’t impose on you any longer,” you wave off. “An Uber will do just fine.”

“You’ll let me know when you’re there? When you get back to your apartment?”

“Yes, mother,” you poke fun at him, laughing at the way he rolls his eyes.

“I’ll let that one pass for now. Remember, you can call me anytime, okay? About anything, it doesn’t matter. Just don’t be a stranger.”

“I’ll remember that. See you around then?”

“See you around. Be safe.”

Neither of you make a move, not until Keiji steps forward to wrap you in a tight embrace. You do your best to return it ounce of ounce, bundling the back of his shirt in your fists. The last seven days have been pivotal to your friendship and you’ll never forget everything he’s done for you. Minutes pass, neither wanting to pull back until you can’t anymore, needing to meet the Uber outside. Keiji doesn’t have the heart to walk you all the way to the main entrance of the apartment complex, and you don’t force him.

Sitting in the airplane back to Sapporo is much less nerve-wracking than you originally predicted. You already have a list in mind of how to clear things out with Tetsuro, what steps you two need to take to make this split as seamless as possible. Various apartment listings had been bookmarked over the last couple of days, units big enough for just one person rather than two. The wound is still somewhat fresh, but scabs have already begun to form. You have Keiji to thank for in this process of healing.

As promised, you update him whenever you can, the final notice sent when you stand outside the door of your and Teturo’s apartment. It’s impossible for the nerves to not strike you now, even more so as you slowly unlock the door. The work shoes to the side of the doorway indicates that he is home, probably passed out in bed after a long shift. You quietly pad around the unit while putting some of your stuff away, though leaving the suitcase in the living room for now. When you step into the bedroom, Tetsuro is curled up on your side of the mattress, breathing deeply and soundly.

Two months ago, you would have peppered his face with kisses, demanding that he give you enough room to cuddle next to him. He would have opened his arms willingly, trapping you effectively in his new cage and you would’ve never thought of wanting to escape from him. So much has changed now, you think as you sit on the edge. You believe your action was subtle, but he stirs from his asleep, addressing the fact that you have returned. There is no screaming or crying, no tears or pleading. Instead, he shifts closer to give you an awkward hug around your waist while still laying on his side. It’s not the kind of hug that says, “Welcome home,” or “I miss you”, though.

It says, “I’m sorry,” and the placement of your hand on his embrace replies, “It’s okay.”

-

2 years later

Keiji likes this new routine with you.

For the last year and a half, you two schedule a weekly video call to catch up with each other. He likes this because he can watch you pull yourself together, adjust to the new life without Tetsuro. He gets to hear all the work stories that the other stopped bothering to pay attention to, no longer waiting for your next Snapchat or Instagram story update. Keiji’s at the friendship level now where he knows something has happened before you even post the photo. Sometimes you both cook together, finding a recipe that you’ll want to try. Other times you might just want to watch an episode or two of a show that’s caught both of your interests, swearing to each other that you’ll avoid spoilers or watching ahead.

It’s not the kind of relationship he truly wants with you, but it’s close enough and he’d be a fool to not take it.

Last week, you had to miss the video call, saying that your boss dropped a massive project onto your desk. You were going to be pulling overtime, and Keiji reminds you to take the necessary breaks. Texting is sparse and he feels the worry exponentially grow – were you pushing yourself too hard? Were you eating foods other than convenience store bentos and onigiris? Were you getting enough sleep at night?

His phone blares your custom ringtone from his kitchen counter and Keiji practically lunges for it, quickly picking up and holding the phone to his ear.

“Hello?”

“Have you had dinner yet?”

What is this feeling of déjà vu?  “I was about to start cooking something up just now, why? Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. I was so busy, I’m sorry we didn’t get to talk last week. What about you?”

“I’m good, everything’s normal. Where are you?”

“I’m on my way home. By the way, I bought you a gift. They said it got delivered not a few minutes ago.”

“Really? That’s weird, the front desk usually notifies me as soon as they get it. But you shouldn’t have.”

“Consider it an early birthday present,” he hears and relishes in the warmth your words bring. “Why don’t you go downstairs and check?”

“I guess I can. Stay on the phone with me?”

“Of course.”

“What’d you get me?”

“What’s the point in me telling you when you’re about to open it in a few minutes?”

“Well,” Keiji starts and wrenches open the door. “I—”

He stops in his tracks, voice caught in his throat. You stand sheepishly before him, phone still at your ear as you drink in his stunned expression. Keiji doesn’t get taken by surprise very often, and you wish you had a camera for this moment. Koutaro would’ve loved it.

“Hey there,” he hears from you and through the speaker, a slight delay between the two phrases as his mind grasps at the situation.

“Why are you here?” He asks, hanging up and letting you in. Keiji hopes it doesn’t sound as rude as it might’ve come across. Like a gentleman, he takes your jacket and allows you enough space to take off your shoes.

“They’re doing renovations at my new apartment so I can’t really move in yet…I was wondering if I could stay here for a few days?”

Wait, new apartment? “Are you moving back to Tokyo?”

Excitement isn’t enough to describe the pure feeling of joy that runs through his veins when you nod. This is what you must have been so busy dealing with, packing everything up and scheduling a small moving van. All you have is your purse and a large suitcase, meaning that the rest of your belongings must still be en route.

“You can stay for as long as you need to. Take the bed, I can—”

“Actually, I lied. Not about moving to Tokyo,” you quickly defend when he seems to bristle at your words. “There aren’t any renovations and the rest of my stuff is coming tomorrow…but I purposely booked a ticket to get here today. You’re the first person I wanted to see.”

Not your parents, not some of your other friends. Him. You wanted to come and see him first before anyone else. The tone in your confession holds so much weight, a fondness in them that’s too intimate for someone who was just a friend. This was your way of trying to let him know that there was something more going on, but you were afraid that he would reject you. The ball was in his court now, and it was entirely up to him to decide how to proceed.

No one knows you better than him. No one is in tune or in sync with you as much as he is. It’s terrifyingly thrilling, but you want this. You want him.

So he takes one stride forward, cradles your face between his hands, and crashes his lips onto yours with a searing passion that’s been kept under lock and key for far, far too long. It’s perfect, you smile to yourself. But most of all…

It feels like home.

Bonus (a week later):

[Konoha]: hey, kou, is keiji dating anyone????

[Bokuto]: not that I know of??? why???

[Konoha]: apparently he just rsvp’d to my wedding and said he’s bringing a plus one??? i’m so confused, why wouldn’t he tell us??

[Bokuto]: did your fiancée see a name anywhere?

[Konoha]: hang on, she’s checking.

[Konoha]: oh shit.

[Konoha]: OH SHIT.

[Konoha]: HOLY FUCKING SHIT WHAT THE FUCK

[Bokuto]: WHO IS IT YOU BETTER TELL ME RIGHT NOW

[Konoha]: HE’S BRINGING FUCKING (Y/N) JESUS FUCKING CHRIST

[Bokuto]: ABOUT GODDAMN TIME

[Konoha]: YOU OWE ME 5000 YEN, PAY UP

[prettyboybarzal]

Dancing with Our Hands Tied (2)

Pairing: Pierre Luc Dubois x Reader

A/N: Hello, angels!!! Here is part two... As always, let me know what you think! Part three is almost done and will be out next Sunday at 8pm. 

Word Count: 2.9k

Warnings: Alcohol consumption

Previous Chapter // Masterlist // Next Chapter

“You’re practically jail bait for these men, do you understand?”

“I’m 21, not 18,” Sadie protested. It was 9 p.m. on a Friday night and you were standing outside Josh’s apartment dressed for a night out. You were reading her the riot act, knowing damn well that it was probably going in one ear and out the other.

“21 is young enough,” you argued. She rolled her eyes as you continued. “If you can’t find me while we’re out, look for Josh. Or Seth. Or Boone.”

“YN, everything’s gonna be fine.”

“I really hope so.”

The entire week leading up to Sadie’s arrival was stressful to say the least. You had to childproof your entire life just to have a problem free weekend with her, and that included childproofing the boys too.

Because Josh had met Sadie plenty of times before, he was more than happy to have everyone over his house for pre-drinks. It took a weight off your shoulders because being in an enclosed space with your closest friends meant it would be easier to keep tabs on how much alcohol she was consuming. And the more people she met before hitting the club meant there were more people keeping an eye out for her, and you need all eyes on her. 

Well, almost all of them. You could do without Pierre’s.

Josh’s apartment was already loud when you arrived, which came as no surprise considering about half the Blue Jackets were inside. When you entered, Sadie gazed around at his apartment like a kid in a candy story.

“This is where Josh lives?”

“This is what a cushy job gets you in Columbus.”

“Why didn’t Mom and Dad force us to become athletes?”

You ventured into the living room and were greeted by an assortment of hoots and hollers. Josh swept Sadie up in a big hug before introducing her to the rest of the boys and some girlfriends in a pretty general introduction. Seth slipped a beer into your hand with a knowing smile that screamed, “I got you. Stop stressing.”

Pierre wasn’t there and you were naive enough to think he might’ve passed on a night out, but then the front door swung open and he was sauntering in with a rack of beers in his hand. Sadie’s eyes cut to yours as he made his rounds to say hello.

When he reached her, he came up short. He narrowed his eyes as he studied the all too familiar facial features.

“You’re YN’s sister,” he spoke. “I’m assuming you already hate me.”

“More or less.”

“I’ll have fun trying to prove you wrong tonight then.”

He stepped away from her and said hello to the remaining few before completely ignoring you and slipping into the kitchen to put his beers in the fridge.

---

The executive decision was made to leave Josh’s apartment around 9:30 p.m., so while you ran off to the bathroom to get ready to go, Sadie flitted off to the kitchen for one final drink. Pierre did the same. When he entered, she was standing in front of the liquor, studying each bottle.

She didn’t even spare him a glance, having clocked him through her peripheral vision and deciding not to engage. He opened the fridge and reached in to receive a new bottle.

“You go to Ohio State, right?” he asked after popping the cap off.

She looked uncertain of him when he asked, but responded, “Yeah, I do.”

“You’re in the,” he paused, thinking for a moment about her class placement, “third year?”

“Yep.”

“How do you like it?” he asked, cocking his hip against the counter. He watched as Sadie poured herself another drink. She sipped it for taste, then added a little more Vodka. “I always got a little jealous of my friends who got to go to school.”

“It’s great,” she answered. “But I don’t think you’re missing out. If you make anything close to what Josh does, I should be jealous of you.” He chuckled softly, lifting the mouth of the bottle to his lips for a swig. She narrowed her eyes at him. “What did you do to my sister?”

He placed the bottle on the counter beside him, fingers swiping along the condensation settling against the label.

“I didn’t make the best first impression and she never gave me the chance to right that wrong,” he answered honestly. “It’s all good, though. I don’t need her to like me.”

Sadie caught the uneasy shift of his eyes from hers to the bottle beside him and decided that he had a shit poker face. 

“She’s a tough cookie sometimes,” she murmured. He nodded in agreement, eyebrows nearly raised to his hairline. 

“She’s determined, I’ll give her that,” he huffed, shaking his head to himself and taking another sip of beer. 

“I’m pretty sure she didn’t like me the first five years I was alive, so don’t worry, maybe you’ll win her over,” Sadie shrugged, giving Pierre a knowing look that he tried to ignore. If he was going to go around spilling secrets to anyone the last person he would choose was your little sister.

“Crazier things have happened, right?”

“Sure,” she said softly. Her eyes lingered on him for a moment like she was trying to decipher what he wasn’t saying. Pierre felt uncomfortable under her gaze, lifting his beer bottle to her and slipping out of the kitchen before she could make him sweat anymore than she already had. 

---

As soon as you walked into the club, you threw an arm over Sadie’s shoulder and led her to the bar. Josh and Pierre followed a few steps behind you as the rest of the group left to grab a table. Sadie’s eyes lit up as she studied every bit of the place you all frequented, overjoyed to finally be a part of your Columbus crew.

Sadie propped herself up onto one of the barstools at the bar and you stood beside her to wave down the bartender at the other end. Behind you, Josh and Pierre waited, deep in conversation about something to do with the team.

The bartender was quick to attend to your needs, dropping your drinks off swiftly before moving on to the next group of patrons.

You were busy surveying the land for potential suitors for the evening, not exactly sure if you wanted to end up in Charlie’s bed again or not. For some reason you were finding it hard to take interest in any of the men mingling around the bar with Pierre’s cologne overwhelming your senses as he stood just a few feet behind you. 

Sadie seemed to have no interest in the men that were hanging around the bar, which made you feel better at first. That is, until you realized she was eyeing up Pierre and then shifting her gaze back to you. She was up to something, that was never a good sign. 

“His name matches his face,” Sadie spoke after glancing at Pierre over your shoulder.

“What does that even mean?”

“He’s fucking hot!” she exclaimed. Her voice carried and while you choked on your drink in front of her, Pierre choked on his own in front of Josh.

“You heard that?” Josh asked him with an amused smile. He nodded slowly, desperately trying to push her words out of his mind. “YN’s blood is probably boiling.”

“I have a feeling I’m going to be castrated by the end of the night.”

“It was nice knowing you, buddy,” Josh teased. 

As you and Sadie stepped away from the bar, Josh grabbed your sister and pulled her into his side. Left in their wake, Pierre fell into step with you. 

“You talk about me to your little sister?”

“Only to tell her how insufferable you are,” you informed him. He grinned, like he always did, like he was one step ahead of you. “Whatever she said to you, don’t believe. She’s a liar.”

“So, she was lying when she said I’m fucking hot?”

You turned to face him, standing tall even though he was basically a foot taller than you. You raised your voice just enough to beat out the music, growling, “If you try anything with my sister, I will literally--” 

“Holy shit, I’m kidding,” he said gruffly, an exasperated sigh attached to the end of the sentence. He shook his head, mumbling as he brushed past you on the way back to the booth. “I don’t want your little sister, YN.”

---

Two hours later, Pierre was wandering the bar in search of someone new to occupy his time. He’d been with a group of co-eds for a bit, one of which he’d slept with once before, but they’d decided to leave for another bar. And though he’d been invited, he decided to stick with his real friends.

It had to be somewhere around midnight when he slipped past the bar and noticed Sadie at the end without any of her appointed babysitters and immediately felt worry bubbling up in his stomach. She was the youngest in the bar and seemed a little unsteady on her feet, and even though you told him to stay away, the creeps eyeing her down from the other side gave him bad vibes.

So, he stepped up beside her and leaned against the bar with a smile. 

“Bonjour!”

“Hey, Sadie,” he greeted her. She hiccuped. “You good?”

“Oh, I’m fine,” she slurred. “I’m getting another Tequila shot.”

“Do you need one?” he asked. His tone of voice was teasing, but the concern was clear on his face. When she turned to look at him, he saw how strikingly similar she looked to you. It was probably the glare on her face that did it.

“I want one,” she repeated. “And you’re going to take one with me.”

“Well, okay.”

Pierre had seen this one too many times before. He knew this shot was going to be the end to her night, but it didn’t matter how hard he tried to stop her, it wasn’t going to work. The bartender brought the liquor over and after some convincing on Sadie’s part, he poured a shot for himself as well.

The tequila went down easy for the two men, but the look on Sadie’s face told Pierre that she also knew that shot was going to be her night’s death sentence.

“You look pale.”

“Let’s go sit,” she murmured, grabbing his wrist and pulling him with her towards the booth with the rest of the group. Seth caught Pierre’s frantic eyes as they approached.

“She’s going to be sick,” he whispered as soon as they were standing beside each other. They both looked up at Sadie who’d taken up residence at the end of the table, knuckles white from from clutching the top. “Where’s YN?”

“I have no clue,” Seth answered. “The bathroom maybe.”

Just as Pierre started to look around the bar, hoping to find you in the crowd, Sadie lurched slightly. 

“I need to get her out of here,” he said. “If she throws up here, YN would never want to come back and she loves this place.”

“Do you want me to just take her?”

It was a good question and Pierre stopped to think for a moment about the answer. Seth could take Sadie off his hands and he could go about his night normally, or he could prove to you that he wasn’t the asshole you painted him out to be. For whatever reason, he chose the latter.

“No, I got her,” he said. “Let YN know what’s going on, would you?”

---

You returned to the table not even fifteen minutes later, already pissed off because of how long the bathroom line was. Needless to say, Seth letting you know that Pierre had taken Sadie back to your place was not what you wanted to hear. 

“You let her leave this bar with Pierre?”

His fingers danced nervously along the beer bottle in his hand. The 6’ 4” defenseman was utterly terrified of your wrath, and had you not been so pissed off, you would’ve thrived in the feeling. “I know you hate him, but he was just trying to help out.”

“Help out?” you repeated. “You think Pierre would do something out of the kindness of his own heart for me, Jonesy?” He nodded a bit sheepishly. “You’re delusional.”

With that, you snatched your purse off the table and stormed out of the bar in pursuit of your apartment. The walk was only about ten minutes long and, quite frankly, you didn’t give a shit that you were walking through the city at night in a short little dress. You were a woman on a mission and anyone that crossed your path with the wrong intention was going to get your wrath, and it seemed that everyone knew that because you weren’t bothered once. 

You threw your door open once it was unlocked and the decorations on the wall rattled as the door hit the wall beside it. Pierre, who’d been standing outside the bathroom door, jumped out of his skin at the sound. He righted himself and stood tall as you entered the hallway unsure of what type of reaction he was going to receive from you. 

You hardly looked at him as you barked, “Where is she?”

“Puking.”

He leaned forward and pushed the bathroom door open a bit wider, revealing Sadie with her head on the toilet seat. You huffed as you entered and kicked the door closed in his face before slumping down beside her.

“Sadie, what the fuck?”

“I suck.”

“How much did you have to drink?” you asked, hand rubbing comforting circles on her back. 

“I was trying to keep up with your friends,” she murmured before gagging into the toilet again.

“You know that they’re all well above six feet and weigh like two hundred more pounds than you, right?” you stated. She nodded and groaned pathetically. “You should’ve known better.”

She didn’t offer a response to your chastising and instead sat up to look at you and said, “I thought I wasn’t going to like him.”

You raised your eyebrows at her.

“Pierre?”

“Yeah. He’s actually a really nice guy,” she grumbled, dropping her head back into her hand that was propped up on the toilet. “Held my hair back for me.”

With an eye roll and a grunt, you stood to leave her to fend for herself.

“Wait,” she called as soon as your hand was on the door knob. “Can you tell Pierre that I’m sorry I ruined his night?”

“Sure.”

“Be nice to him.”

“No promises,” you grunted, pulling the door open to kick the hockey player out of your house.

---

Pierre was uncomfortable in your apartment. Before you arrived, he was too worried about Sadie to even think about the fact that he was in the middle of your personal space. But now, as you sat with her in the other room and he stood in the living room lurking, he knew he didn’t belong.

There were books decorating your coffee table and plants hanging from the ceiling above him. The television stand was cluttered with picture frames of your family and friends from home. His eyes caught on a photo strip from a Blue Jackets event. Josh’s arm was slung over your shoulders, yours wrapped around his waist, both of you clearly hammered and smiling like two idiots who’d been sitting at the open bar all night. 

Although he couldn’t remember much of that night, thanks to the date he was entertaining, he did remember one thing. He remembered the dress you wore. 

It was this dark blue, almost navy dress, and there was a slit up your leg to your thigh that he kept finding himself gazing at. For the first time since he met you, he thought about what it would be like to feel your body against his, to slide his hand up and between your thighs in the middle of a team event just because he could. 

When he got home later that night after dropping his date at home, he jumped beneath a cold stream of water in the shower. He was desperate to clear his mind of every dirty thought that included you. In the end, the only thing that could clear it was release and he ended up jerking off in the shower despite himself.

“I could’ve used a text. I was worried sick.” 

You snuck up on him, leaving him with no time to pretend like he hadn’t been staring at you in each of your photos.

“I would’ve texted you but, in completely unsurprising news, I don’t have your number,” he said defensively. 

It wasn’t like he was expecting you to grovel at his feet for making sure your sister didn’t vomit in the middle of your favorite club, but he would’ve appreciated a little less attitude or a simple ‘thank you’. 

“Her phone was dead, too, and she started throwing up in a bush, so I was a little more concerned about holding her hair back than calling you right away.”

Your mouth snapped shut.

“Anyway, you’re welcome.”

Your mother would kill you if she saw you now. You didn’t even say thank you. 

But, before your mouth could catch up to the thanks at the tip of your tongue, Pierre was pulling the apartment door open and disappearing down the hall. Not even a parting glance was sent your way.

[spartanguard]

summary: Imagine Killian came over with the first curse. Imagine Belle wasn’t locked away—that she actually had been Lacey that whole time. Imagine if they met. (Imagine if they did whole lot more than that.)

A/N: It’s time for Kaitlyn’s annual self-indulgent birthday fic! It’s not CS—not remotely—but I had a desire to see Killian x Lacey, and realized that I couldn’t do it within canon. So here’s some AU that’s bound to piss people off but I enjoy it so don’t come at me. Hope some of you like it, too!

rated M | 1.3k | AO3

Ian Jones didn’t bother to lock the door of his office as he left it. If anyone really wanted to mess with the harbormaster’s files and ancient PC, they were welcome to it. Besides, this was Storybrooke; he’d be so lucky if something that exciting happened. 

(Besides—the real valuables were hidden...offshore, so to speak. His extracurricular activities were not necessarily above board but the only thing that made his mundane existence bearable. Just don’t tell the new sheriff that.)

Anyways. He left the docks, taking the familiar side streets and alleys that led to the Rabbit Hole. It was a Monday, so it’d be quiet there—well, save for the regulars, like himself. He wasn’t sure exactly when it became tradition to end a shift with a celebratory drink, and some might find flaw with the frequency in which he stopped into the watering hole, but those people thankfully kept their opinions to themselves.

No one spared a glance when he entered the dimly-lit dive, and no one ever did. He slid onto his usual stool at the bar and ordered his usual rum, then settled in for a usual night of drinking and casual, empty conversation.

(He never said his nights here were fulfilling; perhaps they were as banal as his days. But he liked it well enough to not seek out a change. He was familiar with the stir of restlessness, but it wasn’t telling him to do anything—yet.)

He glanced around the half-empty bar; billiards tables took up one side of the large space, where a couple dusty miners were making bets that everyone knew they wouldn’t honor; a couple was attempting to have a private rendezvous in one dark corner, oblivious to the fact that they were actually on full display; and a fight was about to break out at the jukebox over whether they should play Van Halen or Guns N Roses, if his hearing was right.

Actually, that caught his attention; bar fights didn’t happen often but were always entertaining. But more importantly, he’d never before seen this dark-haired lass, who was trying to take on a much-larger man. 

It wasn’t often strangers showed up in town, so anyone new was a break in the monotony. (That included the new sheriff, though he hadn’t had occasion to meet her yet...and he was rather hoping to hold off on that encounter as long as possible given his less-than-legal side hustle.)

And, though this (rather attractive) woman seemed capable of holding her own in a fight, neither party was the most sober and her foe was easily twice her size. Ian was nothing if not a gentleman (when he felt like it), and it’d be bad form to let her lose this battle, as she was sure to do—she wasn’t as steady on her stilettos as she thought she was.

He strode over as casually as he could and told the man to, “Leave the lady alone.” 

The brute was nearly bent over, trying to get into the woman’s face, but rose to his full height at Ian’s arrival. “Or what?” he sneered, then shoved Ian’s shoulder—specifically the left one, the arm of which quite obviously ended in a prosthetic hook.

Ian was well aware of his lack of appendage, and if there was one thing he hated, it was when others tried to use it against him. “Well,” he snarled, but rather than finish his sentence, swung back and clocked the man with his right fist. The asshole fell against the jukebox head-first, then slid to the floor, knocked out cold. 

The bar had gone silent at the scene, but a few moments later, the opening strains of “Runin’ With The Devil” began, and the hum of conversation resumed. One of the guy’s friends came to tend to him, but Ian had already turned around, headed back to his stool to finish his drink (and hopefully get some ice for his aching knuckles).

“Wait,” the lass said, reaching out for his forearm. “You’re just gonna walk away without letting me say thank you?”

He turned around and she was grinning up at him—a wide thing, slightly inebriated, but genuine, and he couldn’t help but return it. He even went so far as to bow slightly, replying “At your service, ma’am.”

Adorably, she snickered at him. “I don’t think anyone has ever called me ‘ma’am’ and meant it,” she joked. “It’s usually ‘miss’ or ‘hey you, stop that’.” He couldn’t exactly place her accent—Australian, maybe? There were a handful of foreign ones floating around town, his own included. But he liked it.

He also liked the way her skin-tight skirt clung to her hips, and the way her black bra was visible through the gauzy blue blouse that brought out the color of her eyes. He might have a chivalrous side, but he could just as easily be a scoundrel.

A fact she’d picked up on, if the smirk he found on her lips after his blatant perusal of her form was anything to go by. But he’d noticed her eyes heading south as well, more than once.

“So, does my handsome hero have a name?” she asked, shifting ever so slightly closer.

“Ian,” he replied; he had a feeling that last names weren’t needed for this encounter. 

“Lacey,” she said back, and offered her hand. He took hers gently and lifted it to his lips, placing a kiss on the back of it. An apt name, he thought; it matched her bra. “Can I buy you a drink?” she offered.

“If the lady insists,” he shrugged, and they wordlessly headed to the bar.

One drink quickly became a few, the alcohol loosening their tongues—and their inhibitions. Later on, he could hardly remember what was discussed, and was only surprised to discover that they’d both been in town as long as either could remember and just somehow hadn’t had a chance to meet. A pity, that.

Because she was a divine kisser.

He wasn’t even sure how it had started; they were just suddenly too close—her lips looking far too delectable—and he needed to taste them. They were rum-soaked but sweet, whatever drug-store chapstick she wore getting lost in the shuffle of their lips. 

When their hands began to wander, someone told them they needed to take their activities elsewhere, so they stumbled out into the chill night—but didn’t go much farther than the side of the building. They weren’t the first to engage in traditionally horizontal activities on the vertical brick surface, and likely wouldn’t be the last. 

He pressed her against the edifice, quickly finding her lips again and cupping her pert rear with his hand, settling his hook at her waist. Her hands slipped under his leather jacket to grip his hips, though one eventually drifted up to his chest; her palm felt like fire through the thin cotton of his tshirt. 

She started to wobble—no thanks to her impractical footwear—so he slid his hand down her thigh and pulled her leg around him, letting her feel the evidence of his arousal. She groaned into his mouth and arched her hips against his, making him bite back his own cry of want.

“Can I?” she breathed, one hand on the button of his jeans. 

“Please,” he practically begged. 

She made quick work of the fly, and her own situation was easy to deal with. It wasn’t elegant—one might even call it quick and dirty—but they soon found release then and there, under the flickering streetlight outside the bar. 

As quickly as they’d come undone, they righted themselves—but he was enjoying himself too much to leave it at that.

“Y’know, my place is just a block away,” she said softly, but desire was dripping from the simple statement.

“Lead the way, love,” he replied—and oh, he loved to watch her lead.

----------------

Months later—after the curse was broken, after Killian had finally met and inevitably fallen head over heels for the blonde sheriff who absolutely upended everything in his life—did he finally realize that his lover-turned-friend (with benefits) was actually in love with his mortal enemy.

Yet another thing he could hold over the Crocodile’s head, he supposed: he knew how to make Belle come.

----------------------------------------------

yeah, I stand by that last line.

no idea who to tag but some of you that might like it: @kat2609 @optomisticgirl @thesschesthair @laschatzi @cocohook38 @kmomof4 @word-bug @pirateherokillian @scientificapricot @stubblesandwich @ohmightydevviepuu @shireness-says @phiralovesloki @profdanglaisstuff @initiala @idoltina @thejollyroger-writer @let-it-raines @donteattheappleshook​. Feel free to ignore; I have no idea who is into this.

[threecrowsinatrenchcoat]

Let's Keep Dancing On the Broken Glass

Dukeceit Week Day 1: Anniversary/Birthday

Remus is bored at work, and can’t help but gaze longingly across the bar at Cute Blonde. And can’t help but also notice the random douchebag who won’t take no for an answer. 

AO3 Link: [here]

Word Count: 1387

Warnings: Alcohol mention, generally creepy behavior from a random bar patron.

@dukeceitweek <3 

-

Remus could make a Cosmopolitan in his sleep. Seriously. He was on number thirty-two for the evening, and he still had a couple hours left to last call. So he was pretty sure the involuntary eye roll when Douchebag #4 ordered said Cosmopolitan was perfectly warranted.

(Besides, the guy had been here all night and hadn’t tipped once. He could get over himself.)

“Enjoy,” Remus said when it was done, handing it over with his best fake customer service smile. The guy took it, didn’t tip- again- and stalked off.

It was a Friday night, so Mindscape was bustling. They certainly weren’t the busiest spot in town, but their reputation as “the local queer bar who will gladly toss a homophobe out on their ass,” a reputation well-earned, garnered them a healthy amount of traffic. 

But, as Douchebag #4 took his dumb Cosmo and wandered off, Remus found himself a moment’s reprieve from the steady onslaught of customers. He let his gaze trail across the crowd, and the myriad of different types of people here. He liked to people-watch; if he was incredibly bored at work, he liked to make up stories about the people he saw. He’d guess at their lives, their jobs, what occasions they might be at the bar to celebrate- or to try and forget. And, if he was especially bored, he liked to ask those people and see how close his stories were to reality. 

Douchebag #4 was here with his friends, Douchebags #1 through #3, so Remus was a little surprised to see him head towards the back of the bar instead of their table. Remus tracked his path with idle curiosity until he realized which table he was going to.

It was Cute Blond’s table, as Remus had dubbed it because, well, of the cute blond. There were others too- a young guy who dressed like a dad, a jeans-and-polo nerd, and a mid-2000s emo- but Remus liked Cute Blond best. It was somebody’s birthday, though Remus hadn’t figured out who; but despite the event it was the quietest and most polite table of the night, with the four of them chatting amicably over the occasional round of drinks. 

They all glanced over as Douchebag #4 approached and made his way over to Cute Blond. They were way too far away for Remus to hear what was being said over the din of the music and other patrons, but he didn’t miss how Cute Blond’s easy smile turned brittle when the Cosmopolitan was offered. He shook his head, a clear dismissal- because obviously Douchebag #4 didn’t have a shot in hell with Cute Blond, Remus thought proudly. 

Douchebag #4 didn’t take the hint, though. He stepped closer into Cute Blond’s space, which made the whole table also move closer, almost defensively. Douchebag #4 said something. Emo Guy snapped something in response. Cute Blond put up a hand and, whatever he said, it was enough to make Douchebag #4 back off with a huff. But not before setting the Cosmo down on the table. 

Remus relaxed a bit as Douchebag #4 made his way back to his own table. Remus was not above throwing someone like that out, but Roman made him fill out an incident report every time he did, and paperwork was just below homophobia on his list of things he hated. So he didn’t. But Cute Blond’s table still looked a bit ruffled, so Remus stepped away from the bar and made his way over.

“Virgil, really. It’s fine,” Cute Blond was saying and god what a voice. 

“It’s not fine-” Emo Guy started, but he broke off abruptly when Remus approached. 

“Hey,” Remus said awkwardly. Cute Blond turned to look at him, and Remus was momentarily distracted by his mismatched eyes. And his freckles. He had freckles.

“...Yes?” Cute Blond prompted.

“Oh. Uh.” Why did he come over here? Oh, right. Remus gestured to the Cosmo, sat ignored at the edge of the table. “I can clear that for you, if you want. I’m guessing no one wants it?” 

Cute Blond’s eyes softened, though Emo Guy was still eyeing him suspiciously. Cute Blond slid the glass across the table toward Remus.

“Thank you,” he said. “You guessed correctly.”

“Let me know if he bothers you guys again, alright?”

“I doubt that will be necessary,” Cute Blond replied, with a glance toward Emo Guy. Looking back to Remus, he added, “But thank you.”

Remus really didn’t know what to say to that, so he just gave a hurried, “Yeah, sure thing,” in response, grabbed the unwanted Cosmo, and retreated back to the bar. 

He hoped that might be the end of it. He served some more customers. He switched the music to something more chill and moody to wind down the evening as the clock turned over from midnight to 1 a.m. And when Douchebag #4 appeared at the bar again, he tried not to grimace.

“Cosmopolitan, but send it to that table, from me.”

Remus didn’t even have to follow his gesture to know he was pointing to Cute Blond’s table. 

“I don’t think he’s interested, man,” Remus sighed. 

“I didn’t ask your opinion, just make the damn drink,” Douchebag #4 snapped. And, well. That was just the wrong move entirely, bud. 

“Hm, you know what, I think you’ve had too much tonight,” Remus said with a grin. “I think I’d better cut you off. For your own health.”

“Excuse me?”

Remus shrugged. “We could lose our liquor license if you end up at the hospital with alcohol poisoning. Best stay on the safe side, y’know?” 

“Oh, fuck you.” Douchebag #4 whipped around and stalked back to his table. Remus tried not to feel too smug. 

And failed.

The night wore on. Eventually, as 2 a.m. loomed, Remus switched off the music to announce last call. And in between the flow of people ordering their last drinks or closing tabs, Remus caught sight of a familiar flash of blond hair through the small crowd, as Cute Blond made his way toward the restrooms. Which was probably a weird thing for Remus to notice, but the guy was cute, sue him.

But what also caught his attention was the other familiar face, trailing some distance behind, heading in the same direction. Remus frowned. Douchebag #4 followed Cute Blond into the restroom. Alone.

Now, Remus had worked as a bartender since he was 18. He knew by now to trust his instincts. And right now, his instincts were saying that guy was bad fucking news. 

“Here, you’re all set.” Remus handed the credit card and receipt back to the customer he’d been helping. To the guy next in line, he said, “Sorry, I’ll be right back.” And then he power-walked to the restroom.

He pushed the door open quietly and immediately heard Cute Blond’s sharp voice. 

“I thought I made myself perfectly clear-”

“C’mon, don’t be such a prude.”

“I’m- hey, get your hands off me-”

Remus came around the corner quickly, just as Douchebag #4 grabbed Cute Blond’s wrists and crowded him back against the wall. The creep looked like he was going to say something more, but whatever it was, they never got to hear it; because that was the moment Remus’ fist met his face. 

-

It was a rare night off for Remus, and yet here he was, at Mindscape, as always.

At least this time, instead of watching from afar, he was sitting at Cute Blond’s table. And Cute Blond was sitting in his lap.

“Gosh, I haven’t been here since your birthday, Janus,” Patton was saying. “Is the air hockey table new?”

Remus grinned. “Yeah! Finally talked Roman into it.”

Janus chuckled, and settled himself more comfortably against Remus’ chest. “Mostly I just come here for the cute bartender.”

Remus cast a look to where Roman was tending the bar, and looked back to Janus with an expression of mock-outrage. “Who? Roman? Jannie, hate to break it to you, but he’s taken.”

“Yeah, he is,” Virgil growled. Next to him, Logan rolled his eyes.

“Shame,” Janus sighed dramatically. “Guess I’ll have to settle for the one who punched a creep for me.”

Remus grinned. “I’d do it again in a heartbeat,” he said. And he leaned down and kissed his Cute Blond. 

[official-weasley]

Meant to Be (Charlie Weasley x OC)

What happens when Bill brings home a girl and Charlie is completely awestruck by her?

WARNINGS: curse words, minor mentions of alcohol

Chapter 15

Charlie

I woke up abruptly the next morning after hearing something break in the kitchen. The headache was drumming against my skull and as I rubbed my eyes the events of last night all came back. I couldn't stop a smile painting my face.

I haven't felt this happy in a long time. I also haven't felt so tired in ages. I went to grab the alarm clock on my nightstand. We slept for 2 hours. Let's just say that we were too busy breaking Rhylee's orgasm record over and over again.

“Shit.” I put the clock back as I heard her voice.

There were still clothes all over the floor and it took me a minute to find some boxers.

“Rhy?” I rushed to the kitchen to see what she was doing.

I leaned on the doorway of my bedroom and yawned. The kitchen was empty. Where was she? Just as I yawned again she stormed past me out of the bathroom. She didn’t even glance at me, her cheeks soaked with tears.

This isn’t going to end well, is it?

“Rhy?” I said her name again and when I didn’t get a response, her only trying to wipe her cheeks, I decided to put a stop to this.

I walked over to her slowly, careful not to startle her as it looked like she wasn’t really present. I extended my arm to reach hers.

“Don’t…” She jumped away, finally acknowledging my being there. “Please, don’t touch me.” She sniffed and started wiping her tears away again.

She was wearing her dress over her waist, her breasts bare naked.

She was a complete mess.

She rubbed her nose with the back of her hand and started stumbling around the apartment again, desperately trying to find something.

I was observing her for a minute, trying to figure her out but couldn’t. I couldn’t bear to look at her being so miserable.

“Can you stop for a minute?”

“No, no I can’t, Charlie!” She stopped anyway and finally looked at me.

I wish she hadn’t.

I knew that look. That’s how I looked at Bill the morning he woke me up when we slept together at the Burrow. The guilt. The realization of what happened and just how wrong it was. It broke something in me, her looking at me like that.

I knew this was going to happen. I knew it was a bad idea but I just couldn’t stop. I couldn’t resist kissing her. I know we were drunk but we weren’t that drunk that we weren’t aware of what we were doing.

I remember everything. Every second, every kiss, every touch, every moan. And I know she does too. That’s why she is panicking so much right now. She has absolutely no idea what to do about the situation or with the feeling inside her chest. I know it’s tearing her apart and I feel bad that I don’t feel guilty.

If I knew she was happy with Nick, I would. Heck, I probably wouldn’t even make a move yesterday. I would let her go when she tried to leave. But I know she wasn’t happy. Everything she did, told me she wasn’t and I couldn’t understand why was she still with him.

We could be together. I know we are made for each other. It was definitely perfect last night and I am not talking just about sex. That was a bonus. It was so much more. The feeling of belonging. Us laughing like idiots in the shower. The looks we gave each other. How she fell asleep in my arms, moving more and more into me as if I wasn’t close enough.

We didn’t talk much, but we didn’t have to. We said enough with just being together. We understood each other on a level that I never thought possible and no words could ever explain it better than our actions.

Was it wrong if I felt hopeful? Was it wrong that I didn’t feel bad at all and if I could I would repeat last night without thinking twice about it? I probably was. Perhaps I was a bad person for thinking like this, but I couldn’t help it. If I thought I was in love with her before then I don’t even know how to describe my feelings now.

I took a deep breath. I know what was about to happen. Her gazing in my eyes like that didn’t mean anything good. She was in the position I was at that Christmas morning. She was the one who didn’t know what to do.

She was standing still, looking at me with an empty expression. I know she was having a battle in her head. I slowly moved toward her. She said she doesn’t want me to touch her. I want to respect that but her hair was a mess and I couldn’t resist brushing a lock of it off her face. She trembled under my touch, closing her eyes.

It pained me that she tormented herself like this. I know she didn’t mind my presence. I know she wanted more of these moments. She wanted so much more but she didn’t allow herself to feel what she so desperately wanted to. I was standing right there, ready to be hers, to be completely devoted to her and it broke my heart knowing she won’t allow herself to feel the happiness that would bring her.

“I can’t.” She shook her head and stepped backward. “I can’t.” The tears running down her face ran over the traces the tears left before. “I can’t. I can’t. I can’t.”

She buried her fingers into her hair and for a second I thought she will start pulling on it. She was completely losing it.

I wrapped my hands around her and held her tight as she moved around, trying desperately to get out of my grip.

“Let…me…go…Charlie.” She said through her sobs. She will have to try harder for me to just let her go and ignore the pain she was feeling right now. She started slamming her fists against my chest. “Let me go. This is so unfair!” She finally gave up and dug her head into my shoulder.

I don’t think I ever heard someone cry so loudly. I thought she was going to hyperventilate and I didn’t know what to do. How am I supposed to help her? I know that nothing anybody said to me the last time could make me feel better. Could make the guilt go away. I didn’t want her to end up like me. Beating herself over and over about it for 2 years.

“Rhy, please talk to me.” I whispered and kissed her forehead.

I wasn’t thinking anymore. I just did it. She whimpered at my touch, pressing harder against me.

“I…” She said into my shoulder.

“Yes?” I encouraged her.

“I…” I gently pushed her away and lifted her chin with my right hand. “I can’t find my bra.” She said with the most innocent voice and the saddest eyes I have ever seen.

I had to bite my cheeks not to chuckle. She was so cute. She was looking for her bra and here I was, thinking she lost it for not putting her dress on.

“Okay.” I said slowly and locked my fingers with hers. I accompanied her to the couch and gently pushed her shoulders down to make her sit. I leaned to her so that our eyes locked. “How about I go find your bra and you wait here?”

“Thank you.” She rubbed her nose.

I hurried to the bedroom, scanning the floor for her bra. Where did I take it off yesterday? Not by the closet, or the nightstand. It wasn’t on the bed or anywhere around the big pile of clothes she threw out of my drawer yesterday. I finally spotted it by the wall and picked it up.

“Here you go.” I sat down next to her and handed her the bra.

“Thank you.” She tried smiling but it seemed she didn’t have the strength to pull it of.

She put on her bra and put her dress back on.

“Want me to zip it for you?” I offered and she shook her head, staring at absolutely nothing in front of her.

We sat in silence for solid five minutes. I didn’t know what to do. She didn’t look like she wanted to leave. She was nervous, I could tell and I know she was going about something in her head. I just wish she would talk to me. I know we could work this out together.

“I’m sorry for what happened last night.” I swallowed hard.

I had to say something. I had to break the silence. I didn’t want to say what came out of my mouth and we both knew it wasn’t true. There wasn’t a moment of last night for which I was sorry about.

“I can’t believe you’re apologizing to me.” She pressed her hand against her chest. “I don’t know what you remember,” she paused to collect herself, “but I remember everything.” She whispered the last word and bit her lip.

“So do I.” Suddenly my voice lost all its volume and my heart started beating like crazy.

We were in that zone again. The place of so many unspoken things we wanted to share with each other but just didn’t find the courage to say them.

“I kissed you, Charlie. You have nothing to feel guilty about.” She was still looking away.

It seemed she was thinking of what to say next.

“Look…” I sighed.

I know I’ll regret what is about to come out of my mouth. I wanted to tell her that she has nothing to feel guilty about. I wanted to say that she should leave Nick and be with me.

Heck, I’ll tell him for her!

“Nobody knows you were here last night. We don’t have to tell anyone.”

But I couldn’t. I said this stupid thing instead.

I know how much I hurt Bill when we slept together and he was my brother. This guy, prick or not, loved her in his own way and I can’t bring myself to put myself first. I can’t put my happiness first. It’s her decision. She’s the only one who knows what she wants to do with what happened between us.

“We can keep it a secret.”

“I can’t do that, Charlie.” She bowed her head, pressing her lips tightly together. “I have to tell Nick.” She wiped off another tear. “It’s only fair to him. I can’t lie to him about something this,” she inhaled sharply and locked her eyes with mine, “big.” She finished the sentence with a breath.

“I have to go.” She suddenly stood up as if coming up with a plan and walked to the door, her dress still unzipped.

“Rhylee, wait!” I got up and tried stopping her.

Before I could reach her she was already out the door, slamming it behind her.

I didn’t know what to do. I know she needed to be alone. It was better if she told him. It’s what I should’ve done the second Bill woke me up at the Burrow. It pained me to know what she is going through. The scenarios of what he will say to her rolling through her head. I wish I could do it with her.

The part that terrified me was that I had no idea what will happen. Will they break up? Fuck, I feel terrible for thinking that. But how I wish it would happen. I closed my eyes and pinched the bridge of my nose. I can’t think about it. She’ll have to tell me sooner or later anyway and I am done feeling guilty for what I want.

I love her.

I want to be with her.

There I said it.

I know she’s in a relationship but this is how I feel. Does it make me a bad person? I don’t care. I feel it in my heart that we should be together. That we belong together and I am not going to push that feeling aside and I will definitely not ignore it. Not anymore.

I put on some clothes and decided to go to the tavern for breakfast for a change. Truth be told, I was dying to know what happened between Theo and Gerta, and knowing my friends, they were already up and chatty.

Walking there I promised myself to not say anything about me and Rhylee. I was confident that they didn’t see us leaving the party together and even though Rhylee decided to tell Nick, I am keeping my end of the bargain and staying quiet. She already feels embarrassed enough about kissing me and letting last night happen and I don’t want to do anything to make that worse for her.

“A mate can’t lose you in a crowd if he wanted to.” I chuckled and sat down next to my friends.

They were the loudest in the whole place, laughing at something.

“Are you calling us loud, Weasley?” John smirked.

“I could hear you from a mile away.” I teased.

“What can I get you, dear?” A waitress stopped at our table.

“Just some coffee, thank you.” I smiled and she walked away.

“We could say the same for you, lover boy.” Peter winked at me.

“What?” I was generally confused by his words.

“Oh, Charlie. Charlie, yeah that’s the spot. Fuck yeah, Char-lie.” John imitated moaning and I thought my eyes will fall out of their sockets.

How in the bloody hell did they know I had sex last night?

“Left you speechless there, Weasley?” Andrew started laughing.

“I am genuinely lost for words.” I said honestly.

What does one reply to something like that?

“How about you tell us who you were with last night?” Evan leaned on his arms.

“Who was the lucky girl that screamed your name so much?” Peter followed his lead.

So they didn’t know I was with Rhylee? At least it didn’t look like they knew. If they did, they would ask way more questions.

“First of all, I would like to know, how the fuck do you know? Did you fall asleep on my front porch?” I am not telling them anything before I find out how much they know.

“Peter and I were one of the last to leave last night and since everything has quietened down and you and your lady friend weren’t exactly trying to keep it down it was pretty hard to miss, walking past your hut.” Evan pursed his lips, preventing a smile from spreading across his face.

“Alright, you got me.” I sighed and lifted my hands in defeat. “You know I was in the library a lot these past few weeks.” They all nodded, waiting eagerly for me to continue. “I met this girl there a few times and we flirted a little. I saw her at the party last night and well,” I took a sip of my coffee, “you heard the rest.”

I don’t think I was ever so proud of myself for lying. I did meet a girl in the library and we did flirt but that was it. I had no idea she would be such a perfect alibi!

“Lucky girl!” John waggled his eyebrows.

“Damn, I was hoping you would say it was Rhylee.” Theo screwed his face.

I stiffened. If they only knew.

“Nah. We danced to a couple of songs and then I took her home. She was really drunk.” That was my plan initially but boy did my night take a turn.

“So are you seeing this girl again?” Evan asked.

It was unbelievable how they bought my lie.

“Does he ever see a girl he sleeps with again?” Theo rolled his eyes at Evan and I laughed.

“While we’re on the topic…” I turned to Theo. “What happened with you last night?”

“What do you think happened!” Theo grinned. “Gerta and I made sweet, sweet love!” We all burst out laughing.

“You two moving in together or what?” Andrew teased.

“Have you gone completely mad?” Theo frowned at him. “Does Gerta seem like a type of woman that can be approached while being sober?”

“Oh, come on, Theo.” I started. “She loves you.” I said, making a kissy face.

“Bugger off, Weasley, before I make that smug expression disappear from your face!” He rolled his sleeves up, ready to punch me.

We all started laughing again. There was nothing better than making fun out of Theo. He was just too gullible not to mess with!

[river-bottom-nightmare]

OXYCONTIN OXYCODONE (HCI CONTROLLED RELEASE TABLETS)

—tim grabbed the bottle from the stash of medicines in his apartment, shakily pressing down on the lid to open the locking mechanism. 

OT00367K 300514-0H WARNING: OxyContin is an opioid agonist and a Schedule II controlled substance with an abuse liability similar to morphine.

—because thank god alfred somehow managed to keep the batcave infirmary stocked with many different drugs and painkillers. tim remembered the money making people blink, the professional suppliers delivering to an unknown location, leslie turning a blind eye, going so far as to help them sometimes. it gave tim access to whatever he needed to take for his own apartment.

Oxcodone can be abused in a manner similar to other opioid agonists, legal or illicit. This should be considered when prescribing or dispensing OxyContin in situations where the physician or pharmacist is concerned about an increased risk of misuse, abuse, or diversion.

—leslie had glanced at him strange, so tim took her into the medbay and pulled up his sweatpants. the swollen, bruised colour of his ankle was striking against his pale skin. to her credit, leslie didn’t even wince, just used firm hands and warm fingers to examine the wound. tim had asked her not to tell anyone, and the injury was minimal enough for her to purse her lips and nod. she demanded a checkup in a week. with some negotiating, tim moved it up to a week and a half. “be careful with those,” leslie said, gesturing towards the painkillers. “of course,” tim responded easily.

OxyContin Tablets are a controlled-release oral formulation of oxycodone hydrochloride indicated for the management of moderate to severe pain when a continuous, around the clock analgesic is needed for an extended period of time.

—tim leaned against the wall of his bathroom, finally gripping the hem of his sweatshirt and pulling it off. a myriad of colours greeted him, everything from mottled yellow to angry violet to the dark red of the blood flecked around the wound on his side. it was stupid, so stupid. damian had come out of that encounter fine, just a couple bruises to the forearms. tim, on the other hand, had to suffer a slice to the side with a knife, all because he’d hurt his ankle and ribs a day ago and hadn’t been able to flip out of the way in time. the pain had been unnoticeable yesterday, but today, it went past his entire body being on fire and instead felt like he’d been dipped in ice. tim was ready to claw his skin off his torso and fix his ribs himself, but he settled for tipping a couple pills into his palm.

OxyContin Tablets are NOT intended for use as a prn analgesic

—tim allowed himself a couple seconds, taking a few deep breaths, the way dick had taught him to push through the pain. then, pushing off the wall, tim stumbled into his bedroom. forgoing dinner, he shrugged his sweatshirt back on and collapsed onto the bed, letting out a hiss of pain when he landed on a bruise. he shuffled over to his favourite side, staying on top of the covers, moving his injured ankle into a somewhat comfortable position, and waited for the pills to kick in as he drifted off to sleep.

OxyContin 80 mg and 160 mg Tablets ARE FOR USE IN OPIOID-TOLERANT PATIENTS ONLY. These tablet strengths may cause fatal respiratory depression when administered to patients not previously exposed to opioids. 

—when tim woke up the next day, it was hard to breathe. hypoventilation was nothing new with stronger painkillers, though, so tim groggily stood up and made his way into the bathroom. the bruises had darkened, and the wound was gaping. turned out tim’s initial assessment was wrong: he needed stitches after all. on the bright side, the pain wasn’t as bad today as it was yesterday. tim popped a couple more pills and took out his medkit.

OxyContin Tablets ARE TO BE SWALLOWED WHOLE AND ARE NOT TO BE BROKEN, CHEWED, OR CRUSHED. TAKING BROKEN, CHEWED, OR CRUSHED OxyConton Tablets LEADS TO RAPID RELEASE AND ABSORPTION OF A POTENTIALLY FATAL DOSE OF OXYCODONE.

—bruce needed his help with a black mask case, and he’d called jason in as well, because no one knew the villain like the former crime lord. but jason was also working a human trafficking case with dick, and while things were getting better, dick was still one of the people that routinely defied bruce’s authority, quieter than jason but much more intense. but damian had asked him personally to come (well, he’d said he wanted to show him how to groom alfred the cat, which was practically the same thing), and cass was visiting from hong kong. so, for probably a couple rare hours, everyone was going to be in the manor, and if alfred and cass had anything to say about it, peacefully. tim gathered the information he’d layed out, and made his way towards the manor.

Possible Side Effects of OxyContin include: Drowsiness and/or weakness,

—tim stopped in one of the sitting rooms in the manor, dropping onto the couch after feeling the ground sway underneath him. he probably needed to eat something. knowing what his family would say if anyone found him in this state, he used trembling hands to take his computer out of his backpack, and pull up some mindless case under the pretense of work. he forced his eyes open, letting the blue screen cut through his vision. he had a good night’s rest, so the last thing he needed was to sleep right now. besides, look at dick! the man could stay awake for days on end, or keep going for weeks on minimal sleep, never get slow or sloppy in the field with exhaustion, and kept a warm and welcoming smile on his face the entire time. the least tim could do was put his injury to the side and stay awake for the first few hours of the night, before everything delved into screaming matches and arguments.

dizziness that may be accompanied by a headache,

—tim could feel everybody staring at him. they were analyzing him, taking stock of his weaknesses, he just knew it. and he couldn’t blame them. he could barely keep his head propped up, sitting in front of the screen. he flinched every time a particularly sudden or loud sound cut through the air, making his brain scream and his face wince in pain. tim’s fingers were rubbing his temples, but the effect was laughable against the pounding in his ears, the pounding of his head. “tim,” bruce’s voice caught his attention, deep but not quite gentle. “why don’t you get some water, hm?” tim nodded, then went to stand up stumbling slightly and grabbing the chair for balance. bruce moved to steady him, but tim held a hand out to stop him. he was fine. the floor was moving, the walls were spinning, but he was fine. “just a little tired,” he waved off to bruce. “don’t worry. i’ll grab an energy drink or something later.”

nausea,

—jason’s brow was furrowed as tim forced another bite to his mouth. across the table, dick’s head tilted in question and he asked “i thought alfredo was your favourite?” tim’s smile didn’t feel all that forced when he brought it up, and he forced another bite past his lips. “i’m just not that hungry. i had a snack in the afternoon.” his stomach was rolling, clenching, sizing up and- “if you would like something light, master timothy, i’m sure we have some crackers and soup. you can eat the alfredo another time.” alfred really was too kind. tim’s hands were clenched around the fork, and it took everything he hand not to curl up on his stomach, to heave as he opened his mouth to say “no thanks alfie. i’m good.” 

and vomiting, 

—tim couldn’t take it anymore. he pushed his chair back and left the table, far more rudely than he’d ever been before, barring an argument at the dinner table, and raced upward, willing his uncooperative feet and busted ankle to cooperate no matter the dizziness. he could hear the confused cries of his family behind him, but ignored them. tim threw open the door to the bathroom, having the mind to close and lock it, before falling over the toilet, heaving up the little pasta he’d managed to force down. and when that was done, there came the fire. the pain in his stomach as he tried to throw up what wasn’t even in his stomach anymore and oh was that blood? that wasn’t a good sign.

among other side effects. For a complete list of all possible side affects, ask your doctor or pharmacist.

—there was pounding on the door, and tim heard dick’s voice calling out his name. “fuckin’ pick the lock!” jason’s voice was angry. of course it was angry, the one time his family hadn’t come to blows and tim had ruined it. couldn’t he have held it together for just a few more hours? suddenly, there was a loud crack. cass had kicked the door in. she leaped into the bathroom, immediately over to him, with dick hot at her heels. jason was leaning against the doorway, keeping damian or bruce from coming in.

Previous medical conditions, such as lung problems, head injury, liver or kindey problems, adrenal gland problems, convulsions or seizures, alcoholism, hallucinations or other severe mental problems, and past or present substance abuse or addiction may heighten the negative effects of the oxycodone. 

—voices filtered into tim’s mind, but everything sounded like he was underwater. muffled, quiet. the quiet was nice. if only his headache could get with the program. there were hands on his shoulders, cupping his face. they were warm, and felt strong. he was safe. there was a part of him screaming, though. get up, open your eyes, stop being weak! stop being pathetic! the others could do so much more than you, so just stop acting like a victim and be useful for once! the voice was demanding, and tim tried to do just that, the dizziness had come back with a vengeance and the room was spinning. or maybe his vision was whiting out, because everything flared a bright, brilliant white before tim was plunged into darkness.

Pharmacist: dispense the attached Medication Guide to any patient taking OxyContin Tablets.

OT00367K 300514-0H

i don’t actually know how OxyContin works so all of this may be horribly wrong. this is just what the warning label said on a bottle i found in the medicine cabinet.

tag list:  @comicsandhoney @birdy-bat-writes @elles-shitposts-personified @subtleappreciation @screennamealreadyused @pricetagofficial @catxsnow @astroherogirl @yesboopityboop @dangerduckjpeg