#in the park which was so fucking scary for me and we had to be so close for ages

[opens-up-4-nobody]

...

[fatecantstopme]

Spell Bound

Pairing: Dean Winchester x plus size!reader

Summary: It's sex pollen...I couldn't help myself.

Warnings: cursing, use of pet names. An excessive amount of heavy SMUT, unprotected sex (P in V), rough sex, oral (F receiving), multiple cream pies

"I freaking hate witches," Dean mumbled as he picked the lock on the apartment door.

You chuckled softly, very used to hearing him grumble every time you were hunting a witch.

He slowly walked into the apartment and you followed in after him.

"So what exactly are we looking for?" you asked quietly.

"Big scary magic book. Sam said it's probably on or near some kind of altar."

"Big scary magic book," you muttered under your breath. "Makes perfect sense."

You sighed as you walked into the living room and noticed several bookcases lined with large books. "You've gotta be kidding me."

Dean shot you a weary smile. "Guess it might take a little longer than I thought."

"You think?"

You took one side of the room and Dean took the other. Sam had described the look of the book to the both of you, but there was really no way to be 100% certain if you found it.

About 15 minutes into your perusal, you spotted a large leather-bound book tucked under what appeared to be an altar cloth. You slowly removed the cloth, wary of what you might uncover. The book was almost exactly as Sam had described, so you had a feeling it was the right one.

"I think I found it," you said aloud.

At almost the same exact moment, a crash sounded from behind you and Dean let out a string of curses.

You spun around to see the hunter brushing off some sort of florescent pink dust from his face. "What the hell did you do?"

"I was moving some of the books and this box fell out and some powder just kinda...sprayed my face."

"Seriously?"

He looked sheepish. "I didn't even see it."

You sighed. "Great. God only knows what the hell that was."

He looked at the box carefully, but there was nothing written on it to identify the powdery substance he had inhaled. He gave you another sheepish look and shrugged. "Maybe it's not harmful."

You shot him a stony look. "Dean...it's a witch. It's not gonna be fairy dust."

He sighed, knowing you were right. He started shifting his shoulders a bit as if he was uncomfortable.

"Let's get out of here. I'll call Sam on the way back to the motel and see if he has any idea what it could be."

Dean nodded and followed you out the door. By the time you got outside the building and to the car, he was twitching like an addict in need of a fix.

"Dean?" you asked tentatively.

"My skin feels like it's on fire and--and it's like--itchy. And there's a weird feeling inside that I can't describe, but it doesn't feel nice."

"Okay...how 'bout I drive?"

He looked up at you with concerned eyes, but he handed you the keys and got into the passenger seat. You knew he must really be feeling terrible if he was letting you drive Baby.

You started the car up and pulled out of the parking spot while simultaneously calling Sam on your cell. He answered on the third ring.

"Dean got some sort of witchy powder on his face and now he's...itchy?" you said quickly in lieu of a greeting.

Sam sighed. "What are his symptoms?"

You put the phone on speaker. "Dean, what are your symptoms?"

Dean couldn't look at you and when he spoke, his voice was barely above a growl. "I feel like crawling out of my own skin, everything aches, and I'm having a hard time breathing right. Oh and I can literally smell (Y/N)'s skin, which is totally not normal!"

"You can smell my skin?"

He grumbled under his breath. "I can smell your skin and your shampoo and your goddamn body wash, and I want--fuck. What the hell is wrong with me, Sam?"

"Uh, I honestly don't know. Let me call Bobby and see if he has any ideas."

You set the phone down on the seat beside you. "Maybe you're turning into some kind of animal?"

"What?"

"Well, I mean...you can smell me...which is weird and kind of--animalistic."

"I don't think that's it," he said harshly. "My body is aching in a way I can't even begin to describe to you, but I don't think I'm morphing into anything."

You eyed him carefully, worry etched into your face. He was your closest friend and trusted hunting partner, and you hated seeing him like this. Witches scared the shit out of you...you knew what they were capable of.

"Maybe drive a little faster," he hissed.

You pressed harder on the gas and the Impala shot down the road. When your phone rang, you answered it immediately.

"So I think I might know what it is, but I have something I need to ask Dean first," Sam said.

"Okay." You looked at Dean. "Can you hold the phone? Sam wants to ask you something."

Dean took the phone from your hand, hissing as his skin made contact with yours. "What?" he grumbled.

"This is gonna be awkward, but I need to know, okay? Do you feel--umm--aroused at all?"

Dean was silent for a moment as he let his brother's question sink in. Ohhh fuuuuck, he thought to himself. He glanced down at his jeans and noticed the bulge straining against them. With the intense pain he was experiencing, he hadn't really noticed. "Son of a bitch," he mumbled. "Yeah."

"Okay, well the good news is, I know what it is. It's called sex pollen."

"It's called what?"

"Sex pollen. The name doesn't really matter, but you have all the symptoms. They're only going to get worse until--well until you die."

"Die? Is there a cure?"

You looked over at Dean in terror, your foot pressing down even further on the pedal. Dean's hand was shaking slightly as he put the phone on speaker so you could hear.

"You have to--uhh--well--shit. You have to umm...fuck it out."

"I have to what?"

"Dude, I know, okay? But you don't have a choice. If you don't you'll die a rather painful death."

"Son of a bitch," Dean said again. "Can I, umm, take care of it myself?"

"According to what Bobby read, the only option is actual intercourse with another person."

"How long do I have?"

You were acutely aware of Dean's close proximity to you, and now you understood the nature of his pain. Your own breathing was more labored, but you desperately tried to maintain control of yourself. Don't make it weird, (Y/N), you thought to yourself.

"30 minutes from the time of contact until...until death," Sam answered.

"30 minutes?" you gasped. You started doing the math in your head as Dean continued talking to his brother. "We have maybe 10 more minutes until we get back to the motel and that leaves about 10 until..."

Dean looked over at you, his normally green eyes dark with need. "I'm so fucked," he muttered.

"That doesn't really leave us time to find someone for you to--you know," you said worriedly.

"Shit."

"Might wanna make it fast," Sam said.

"Obviously," Dean snapped. "How long will it take to...get out of my system?"

"That depends," Sam began. "If it's meaningless, one and done. If it's someone you care about...that's another story."

"Another story?"

"It could take a lot longer."

"Great," you mumbled.

"Sam, don't be there when we get there," Dean growled at his brother before hanging up the phone.

"Dean?" you questioned softly.

"Just drive, (Y/N)."

You continued driving, but your focus was most definitely not on the road. You could hear the heavy breathing and the soft pained sounds coming from the man beside you and it made it nearly impossible to concentrate on anything else. It certainly didn't help that you had wanted him for years and seeing him like this was making you feel things you absolutely shouldn't be feeling.

Dean flirted with you regularly, but he flirted with almost every person he came into contact with. It's just a part of his personality, so you never read into it. While Dean quite obviously adored you (and you him), you were not his type. You were a good fighter, sure, but where you really excelled was research. You were brilliant--almost as knowledgable as Bobby, though you still had plenty to learn. You were also significantly more--voluptuous than the women Dean gravitated to. Soft, chubby, more to love--whatever you wanna call it. As such, you'd never made any sort of move to announce your feelings for him. You didn't want to face his rejection.

"Sweetheart, if you don't speed up, I'm liable to die before we make it there," Dean hissed.

You shot him a look. "We're less than two minutes away, so don't die on me yet, Winchester."

He exhaled sharply and nodded. "I'm not gonna make it either way, (Y/N). Like you said, we don't have enough time to find a, uh--partner."

You took a deep breath. "I can't let you die."

He looked over at you and you felt his gaze boring right into your soul. "I can't do that to you."

"I really don't see how we have much of a choice here."

You pulled into the motel parking lot before he could respond.

"Let's go," you said quickly as you got out of the car and made your way to your room.

Dean was right behind you, so close you could feel his breath on the back of your neck. As soon as the door was unlocked, Dean was pushing you through it and locking it behind you.

"Shit," he muttered. "I don't wanna hurt you."

"It's okay, Dean," you said softly. "I'm not afraid."

His eyes widened and he grabbed your chin. "You should be...I'm going to lose control."

"It's alright...use me."

He let out a low growl and squeezed your chin tighter. "I--I won't be able to make this good for you."

You pressed yourself against his body, feeling the hard ridges against you. "It's not about me. You need this."

That was all it took for Dean to let go. His lips attacked yours with a hunger you were not expecting despite the intensity of the situation. He was not at all gentle as he tore your clothes from your body, ripping his own off with equal force.

He tossed you down on the bed with shocking ease. He had absolutely no difficulty manhandling you. You weren't sure if it was the sex pollen or just him.

His lips and hands were everywhere, touching every inch of your soft skin he could possibly reach. He needed to be inside of you so badly it was almost impossible to breathe. His skin burned with each touch and his instincts screamed at him to just break you.

He moves his way down your body and you're surprised as he stops just above your core. "Dean, what are you doing?" You knew he needed a release--and soon--or he wasn't gonna make it.

A voice in the back of his mind kept reminding him this was (Y/N), his (Y/N). Even in his current state, he wanted to avoid hurting you if he could. "Need to get you ready," he grunted.

The words were barely out of his mouth before he was devouring your pussy. The sounds he made were incredible, the feeling almost electrifying. He slid two fingers in and moved them in a scissoring motion to help loosen you up.

He was only down there for a 30 seconds before he came up and locked eyes with you. "I can't hold off anymore."

You nodded. "Just let go. I'll be okay."

He knew the moment he slid inside you, he'd be a goner. Whatever tiny amount of self control he'd managed to hang onto would disappear in an instant. But he could also feel the roaring agony inside him and he needed to feed it before it devoured him.

"I'm sorry," he whispered against your ear a split second before he sheathed himself fully inside you.

You cried out--pain mixing with pleasure as his large member stretched you in ways you'd never before experienced.

Dean couldn't give you time to adjust--he was too far gone. His hips began to move and his sole focus was on his own pleasure--his own release.

His thrusts were powerful and fast, so much so that your body started to scoot farther up the bed. He grabbed your hips and held you in place, pace never faltering. The sensations were almost painful given his size, but you wouldn't have stopped him even if you could have.

"Fuck, baby--you feel so good," he grunted.

You were more than a little surprised when he spoke--you hadn't pegged him as a dirty talker. Then again, it could very well have been the pollen. The same could be said of the sounds coming from his mouth. You'd never heard such sinful noises and you loved them.

"So tight--squeezing me so good. Feels like heaven."

You squeezed his cock purposefully, making him groan each time you clenched down. He needed his release and you were gonna make sure he got it. Your own enjoyment was far from your mind--this was essentially a transaction--a lifesaving measure. You had to view it that way to protect your heart...at least that's what you told yourself.

"Baby," he moaned. "Imma fill you up--so close."

Despite the voice in your head telling you this wasn't real--that you shouldn't have any emotional attachments--you reached up and touched his face, caressing it lovingly. "Cum for me, Dean," you whispered.

His eyes locked on yours and he bit his lip--hearing you say his name in the heat of the moment was a bigger turn on than he'd ever imagined. It pushed him right over the edge and he spilled inside of you with a grunt.

You lay beneath him, panting despite the minimal exertion on your part. He'd had his orgasm, but he was still moving, much to your surprise. "You're not done--?"

He shook his head. "Need more."

He pulled out and quickly flipped you over with no warning. You instinctively lifted your hips to allow him access, which he took without hesitation. His cock was still throbbing and the need still burned in his veins. His mind remained singularly focused on his relief--his pleasure.

He slammed into your pussy and set a brutal pace, earning a cry of pain from your lips. This new angle allowed him better access, sending his cock deeper inside of you. His head brushed against your cervix with each thrust, a stinging pain accompanying the pleasure.

Dean's large palm came down on your ass with a hard smack, eliciting a gasp of surprise from your lips. Your pussy clamped down on his cock as he landed another slap to your round cheek.

"Fuck baby, you like that don't you?" Smack. "You like it when I slap this sexy ass?" Smack. "Fuck--squeezing me so tight, sweetheart." Smack.

He was right though, you loved it. You always had, but there was something extra enjoyable about having your ass smacked by Dean Fucking Winchester. Even if you couldn't verbally express your pleasure to him, your pussy made it well-known.

Dean's right hand gripped your hips tightly, pulling you flush against him as he continued pumping. His left hand trailed up your back until he grabbed a fist full of hair at the base of your neck and pulled. Your head snapped back and you cried out, but you didn't fight him.

"Do you know how badly I've wanted to pull this hair, pretty girl? Fuck--I think about it all the time." His pace was relentless and his hand remained entangled in your hair.

You'd never really noticed him looking at your hair in any particular way, so you assumed once again the pollen was making him say such dirty little things.

After several more thrusts, Dean let go of your hair and pushed down on your upper back, forcing you to press your upper body into the mattress. Dean gripped your hips with both of his hands and slammed into you with an intensity that was unmatched by any of his previous actions.

You had a feeling he was close to another orgasm, at least if his grunts and curses were anything to go by. You clenched down around him again, intent on pushing him past the brink.

It worked like a charm. Dean came with a cry of your name, thrusts continuing as he emptied inside of you once again.

You were exhausted and you hadn't had a single orgasm. Part of you really hoped Dean had gotten it all out of his system, but another part of you didn't want this to end. Even if it wasn't real--even if he didn't actually want to be having sex with you, you liked pretending, if only for a little while.

Dean pulled out of you slowly and rolled you over with a surprising gentleness. You assumed that meant he was satiated and the pollen was out of his system.

When you met his eyes, you were surprised by how brilliantly green they were. You'd almost gotten used to the dark forest color that had taken over as a result of the pollen. He was looking at you with an odd expression you couldn't quite place, but for some reason it made you want to scurry away and hide.

"Better?" you whispered.

He cocked his head to the side and a small smirk played on his lips. "Not even close," he murmured.

His lips met yours in a fiery kiss before you had time to respond. Unlike the previous kisses, this one was more passionate, more intense. It made your body tingle all over and a warmth spread through your veins.

Dean's brain fog had finally cleared enough that he could actually slow down and focus on what was happening--on what he was doing, or rather who. He hated that he'd cum twice without even thinking about you, let alone making you orgasm. Dean prided himself on being an excellent lover and he wasn't about to let you leave this bed unsatisfied.

His cock brushed against your pussy as he shifted to hold you closer. You both inhaled sharply, enjoying the sensation. Dean's lips began to travel down your neck, leaving soft, wet kisses in his wake. He nipped at your pulse point, earning an excited moan from you. He liked hearing that sound, so he sucked on that spot until you were panting heavily beneath him.

His hands traveled over your soft curves, touching and squeezing all the parts of your body you were self-conscious about. Dean didn't seem to give a damn that your stomach wasn't flat, that your hips weren't narrow and your thighs weren't skinny--in fact, he seemed to be reveling in the feeling of softness.

His lips were so gentle as he continued his downward movements. He kissed and licked and sucked on each of your breasts, spending several minutes focusing on each one. "You have such perfect breasts," he murmured.

You were too surprised, and perhaps too lost in pleasure, to formulate any kind of response to his words. Luckily, he didn't seem to need one, and he refocused his attention on you.

Once he was satisfied your breasts had received enough love, he continued moving down your stomach, stopping to place soft kisses to every mark and scar he saw.

When he reached your sweet pussy, he spread your legs as wide as he could and settled down between them. You were surprised at his actions, especially since you knew he was still hard--that he still needed another release.

Dean was now singularly focused on one thing--and that was you. Now that his damn brain was working properly, he wanted to make sure you enjoyed this--even if it was a one time thing because you didn't want him to die, he wasn't about to walk away from this without making you scream his name at least once.

He breathed in deeply, smelling your arousal mixed with his own spend, and he smirked. His eyes flicked up to yours and his mouth latched onto your clit, unleashing an overwhelming assault on your swollen mound.

You gasped as the sudden pleasure washed over you. You couldn't take your eyes off the man between your legs--nor did he take his eyes off you. Every time your hips bucked or you tried to move, his strong arms held you in place so he could continue to watch you.

You were writhing against the sheets in what felt like seconds--it was probably longer, but either way you felt embarrassed at how quickly you fell apart under his touch. Your orgasm tore through you like a hurricane, broken moans dripping from your lips.

To your shock, and perhaps concern, Dean didn't stop his assault on your pussy. Even as you tried to squirm away, he held you in place, desperate to give you another orgasm. You whimpered that it was too much, begged him to give you a break, but all of those words quickly morphed into pleas to keep going--don't stop.

"Dean," you gasped as your fingers slipped into his hair, grabbing hold of the short locks by the roots. Your nails scrapped lightly against his scalp and he let out a soft groan.

His tongue seemed to dance across your clit, creating beautiful designs and languages only he seemed to know. He paid attention to what motions made you quiver, which ones made you moan, and which ones had you tugging on his hair with an iron grip.

"Dean, please--I--so close," you moaned.

He smiled, enjoying the immense pleasure he was giving you just as much as you seemed to enjoy it. A few moments later, you were once again coming apart against his mouth and he eagerly lapped up everything you had to give him.

This time as you tugged on his hair and squirmed away, he obliged, lifting himself up from between your thighs. He licked his lips as he looked down at your blissed out face.

"You taste like heaven, baby," he murmured. "Wanna taste?"

Your pretty (y/e/c) eyes widened and you nodded hesitantly. He smiled wolfishly as he leaned down to kiss you, tongue invading your mouth almost instantly, allowing you to taste yourself.

You moaned into the kiss and he held you even more tightly, lips sealed to yours like he needed your air to breathe.

He wasn't entirely sure how he'd managed to control his urges long enough to coax two orgasms from you, but he could feel that control waning. "I need you, baby," he whispered against your lips. "I need you so badly."

You looked up at him, a small smile playing on your lips. You lifted your hips to brush against his cock and he groaned at the contact. You nipped at his jaw and pulled him back down to you. "Fuck me, Dean. Please."

He groaned. "Yes ma'am."

He didn't hesitate as he gripped his cock firmly and lined it up with your entrance. He slipped inside easily, having plenty of lubrication to assist him. Despite having been inside of you multiple times at this point, he was still taken aback by how fucking incredible you felt.

"God, I love this pussy," he murmured. "She was made for me."

You moaned softly at his words and the feeling of him inside you once again. As he started to move, he was much more gentle and you found yourself enjoying the sensations--perhaps more than you should.

"You're so good for me, (Y/N)," Dean mumbled, already lost in the feeling of you.

You would have given anything to hear him say that, but the words broke your heart a little. Had he had any other choice, he likely wouldn't be here right now--you wouldn't be the one he was fucking.

"Hey," he whispered, a rough, calloused hand running along your cheek as he looked at you. "Where's that pretty little head at?"

You smiled at him. "Right here, Dean."

Somewhere inside of him, he knew you were lying, but the damn pollen was still affecting his senses. He accepted your response and went back to his actions, focusing on the feeling of your pussy wrapped around his cock like a vise.

He wanted to feel you cum one more time...wanted to feel the way you'd squeeze his cock as you came. He wanted to watch you come undone beneath him, lost in pleasure he gave you.

He grabbed a pillow and gently lifted your hips, sliding the pillow under them. This provided him a new, improved angle, allowing him to cage you beneath him and hit that sweet spot inside you.

"Dean!" you gasped as the first thrust hit your g-spot.

He grinned and picked up his pace, slamming into it repeatedly. Each thrust sent you closer to the edge of an orgasm you knew would ruin you. Dean Winchester already made you feel things no other man ever had and his ability in bed was no exception. Damn him.

His thrusts were firm and measured, each one sending wave after wave of pleasure crashing through your body. The familiar tightening in your gut was so intense you thought you might actually explode.

Dean's strong arms were on either side of your head and he was looking down at you with that same strange expression from earlier. "You're so damn beautiful, baby. I wanna watch this pretty face as you cum for me."

You gasped, unprepared for the way his words made you feel. You felt emboldened, so you asked for what you needed. "I need more, Dean."

His hand slipped between your bodies, a single finger gently massaging your clit as he continued to fuck you. "That better, baby?"

You nodded rapidly, earning a soft chuckle from his sweet lips.

"You gonna cum for me beautiful?"

You nodded again.

"Yeah? I want you to keep those pretty eyes open when you cum, okay? Wanna see you fall apart."

"Dean..." you whispered.

"I know, sweet girl. I've got you."

Your brain seemed to short-circuit in that moment. All you could feel was a blinding hot pressure immediately followed by an intense euphoria. You heard someone scream "Dean!" and you belatedly realized it had been your voice.

The intensity of your orgasm sent Dean spiraling over the edge of his own. He hadn't even been prepared for it--the mixture of you screaming his name and the sensations of you squeezing him so tightly and the gorgeous way your face contorted as you came was all he needed.

He emptied into you a third and final time, his cock finally beginning to soften as he helped you ride out your high.

He pulled out and flopped down beside you on the bed, his body aching from what had to be some of the best sex of his life--sex pollen or not.

You were just as sore as Dean--probably more so given you literally couldn't move. The two of you laid there in silence, slowly coming down from the electrical highs you'd experienced, both trying to catch your breath for the first time in what felt like hours.

Dean was the first to recover. "Did I hurt you?" he asked so softly you almost didn't hear him.

You turned your head to look at him and your heart clenched at the expression on his face. He was genuinely worried, brows furrowed in concern. You contemplated lying to him, but you knew he'd see right through you.

"A little," you said honestly.

He winced and his beautiful eyes closed. "I'm so sorry, (Y/N)--I would never hurt you on purpose--ever."

You offered him a small smile he couldn't see, until your hand touched his cheek and he opened his eyes again. "I know."

There were a thousand other things you wanted to say--a thousand words you wanted to string together into just the right sentences, but you couldn't. You wouldn't put yourself through it.

"Shower?" he asked softly.

"I honestly don't think I can stand."

A smirk played on his lips. "That should not make me feel so damn good."

You laughed lightly, glad to hear the teasing tone in his voice that you loved so much.

He managed to pull himself into a sitting position. "It's not ideal, but there is a bathtub..." he trailed off.

"I wouldn't mind a bath," you admitted.

He nodded and got to his feet. He was a little unsteady at first, but managed to make his way to the bathroom. You heard the water running as he filled up the tub.

You laid there thinking about everything that had just happened. This was a position you'd never imagined you'd be in--with anyone, let alone Dean Winchester.

You knew this wasn't something you were going to be able to forget about, but you hoped things would go back to normal between the two of you and eventually this would just be a funny story.

Suddenly, Sam's words from earlier snapped into your mind. "If it's meaningless, one and done. If it's someone you care about...that's another story."

One and done...one and done. This most definitely had not been a 'one and done' scenario. But didn't that mean...? No. No way. Impossible. Dean Winchester does NOT have feelings for you.

You began to rationalize your thought process. Maybe "care about" included a friendly relationship. Yeah...yeah that made the most sense. Of course Dean cares about you. You're his best friend. There couldn't possibly be anything more to it...right?

As if on cue, Dean stepped back into the room. "Bath's ready."

"Okay." You tried to pull yourself up, but you immediately fell back against the mattress, body too worn out to sustain any kind of movement.

Dean chuckled lightly and came up to the side of the bed. He pulled the pillow out from under your hips and slipped his arms under your body, hoisting you up bridal style.

"Jesus!" you yelled. "Put me down! I'm too heavy--you'll throw out your back."

Dean laughed. "Calm down, (Y/N). I just threw you around this bed repeatedly with zero issues. I promise I can carry you to the bathroom without dying."

"But--"

He glared at you and tightened his grip on you as if to prove his point. "Ain't a damn thing wrong with your body, so shut it."

Your mouth closed immediately. His words sent a jolt directly to your core and you were almost annoyed by it. As if three orgasms wasn't enough...

Dean very gently set you on your feet in the bathroom and slowly helped you into the tub. As soon as he got you into a seated position, he got into the tub as well, slipping in behind you.

"Umm...whatcha doing?"

"Taking a bath."

"Isn't the tub a bit small for both of us?"

You could feel him shrug behind you. "I think it's perfect size. Now come here." He grabbed your shoulders and gently pulled you back so you were laying against his chest. "That's better," he muttered.

Your mind began to race once again as you laid there, body tense and uncomfortable.

"Okay, (Y/N), I know you better than anyone, so don't you dare lie to me. Where's your head at?"

"I--" you sighed. "I'm not really sure how to feel."

He nodded. "I know you didn't want this--I feel like I had to literally force myself onto you and I hate that. I know you only agreed so I wouldn't die, but--"

"Woah--stop." You sat up and turned your head to face him. "That's not true at all. You didn't force me to do anything."

"Okay, maybe 'force' is the wrong word...but you did have sex with me to save my life. Do you know how ridiculous that sounds?"

"I'm painfully aware," you muttered.

He ran his hand over his face. "I'm not saying any of this right."

"Then what are you trying to say?"

He bit his lip. "Remember what Sammy said? About...how long the effects would last?"

You nodded.

"Well in case you didn't notice, I had three orgasms."

"Both me and my very sore vagina noticed," you said lightly.

He sighed. "Do you understand what I'm trying to tell you, (Y/N)?"

You turned a little more so you could see his face better. He had that same look he'd had when he was making you feel incredible. "I need to hear you say it..." you whispered.

He nodded and leaned forward so his face was mere inches from yours. "He didn't mean 'care' as in 'we're friends, so I care about you'...he meant 'care' as in 'love'."

Your lips parted and you inhaled sharply.

"So you see, I don't just care about you as a friend...and I don't just love you as a friend...I'm in love with you."

"You--you love me?"

"In love," he repeated. "For as long as I can remember."

"You're in love--with me?"

He chuckled softly. "Who else would I be talking to, baby? Yes, I'm in love with you."

"I--I don't know--" you stuttered.

"The only thing you need to know is how you feel. Do you know how you feel about me, (Y/N)?" he whispered.

You nodded slowly.

"And?"

"I'm in love with you too."

He grinned widely. "Yeah?"

You nodded, cheeks turning red.

He wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you back against him. He looked down at you with that expression he'd been wearing and you suddenly realized what it was...it was love--real, true, beautiful, heart aching love.

He leaned down and placed a soft kiss to your lips, which you returned in kind. He held you tightly, loving the feeling of your body in his arms.

"We better get cleaned up before this water gets cold," he said softly, lips pressing to your hair.

"Mhmm," you hummed.

He chuckled. "Don't you dare fall asleep on me, babe."

"But I'm comfortable," you whined.

He smiled against your cheek. "Give me five minutes to clean you up and then we can sleep, okay?"

You looked over at him and smiled. "Deal."

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[fuckingarataswespeak]

School stress and scary kid update for those who know whats going on:

[satorusdiary]

“mmm, i think i jus like them a little older.”

Dilf!Toji Fushiguro x Reader

Warnings: Toji and reader have an age gap (reader is 21, Toji’s in his late 30’s,) Toji has Megumi in this, kissing, making out, groping, sexual talk, cursing, fingering, orgasms, squirting, mentions of ‘daddy’ 2 times, idk anything else lmk

Summary: Just you being obsessed with your older boyfriend Toji :)

Toji

Hey baby, where are you? I’m parked at the front.

You

I’m coming out rn, my professor held me n my friend back to talk ab something

Sent 1:48 pm

“Y/n, i understand your boyfriend is ‘smoking hot’. But i didn’t think he was so scary! Also, he’s like twice your age..” Your friend Haruki mumbled out, rubbing her arm with her free hand.

You sighed, it’s the same comment your friends have given you whenever they had a chance to see your boyfriend. They would drool over him, then they would be shocked at how old he was. But you didn’t care, he’s your man. And he loves you.

“mmm, i think i jus like them a little older.” You smirked and pushed open the double doors that led outside. You instantly spotted the black tesla that was parked underneath the trees.

“He’s fucking rich too! You a lucky girl y/n.” Haruki hummed as she pulled out her phone. You laughed in response, adjusting your skirt along with your jacket. “He’s here, i’ll see you next time we come back?”

She nods her head and holds your hand, slightly drifting away as she goes her separate path. “Yup! see you thenn.” She waved and turned her back.

The closer you approached the car the better you were able to see your pretty boyfriend through the window. A grin appears on your face, cheek to cheek as you knocked on the window, signaling him to open the door.

He looked up at your side of the window and watched as you waved at him with one of the sweetest smiles he’s ever come upon on, making him unlock the door and wave back at you.

You opened the door, immediately sitting on your personal seat which no one else was allowed to sit on. Toji, who placed your seatbelt for you leaned over and pressed a sweet, long kiss on your glossy plump lips. Making you snicker when you feel his lips sucking on your bottom one.

“Hey old man.” You snickered once more, making Toji groan as he pulls away and starts the car. “Always givin me shit, the first’ second i see you again. Little brat.”

“—‘m the one whose payin’ your fuckin tuition, be grateful for me sweet girl.” He side eyes you and slithers his hand onto your bare inner thigh. His fingers ghosting over your underwear.

“I know.” You trailed off. “Thank you, daddy” you blurted the name as a joke. Knowing towards Toji, this “joke” was something that could push his buttons. Sexually that is.

Toji smirked and began messing around with the hem of your underwear fabric, pulling the small edges and letting it go just so it could slap agains your wet clit.

“Take off your underwear, baby.” He whispered, continuing to drive away from the college campus. You instantly did as he was told, holding both edges of your underwear and dragging it down to your feet. Toji had his hand out, waiting for you to hand over your underwear.

“Why do’ya need my underwear?” You questioned. Toji chuckled and looked over to you, caressing your soft doughy cheek. “So i can touch my baby, of course.” He mumbled, taking your underwear and stuffing it into his pocket.

“Y’know. Gumi really misses you, been whining about how he’s stuck with me while you go to school.” Toji rubs your clips making you grab onto his arm and take a deep breath in at the sudden contact.

“o-oh really? i miss my Gumi too, ‘m happy i get to see him soon.” You stuttered when Toji began sinking his fingers deep inside of your sobbing pussy, you were full and it wasn’t even because you were right, it was becasuse Toji’s fingers were massive.

The sharp turns Toji makes when he has to drive by a neighborhood to get to your guy’s home has you feeling like your on a roller coaster. But the feeling of his fingers slowly moving inside of you drives you even more crazy.

His pace gets faster, making your breathing get heavier and your moans get louder. Music to Tojis ears, more satisfying than the music playing on his radio. Your juices continue to leak onto Toji’s seats but he doesn’t seem to mind.

“ohh- toji please.. go faster.” You moaned, gripping on his arm trying to convince him to thrust into you faster. “Please who?” Toji questions.

“Please daddy.” You throw your head back more into the head cushion on your seat. A smirk appears on Tojis face, he stops at a red light and goes over to place a few kisses on your lips. Occasionally he would swipe his tongue over yours and massage your breast with his free hand.

He thrusts in faster and deeper inside of you, the small droplets of liquid spilling out of you the more aggressive he plunges his fingers inside your pussy. The coil in your stomach building up as you cry out even more. The man beside you is only grinning, noticing how much your clenching around his two massive fingers.

Even if it wasn’t his cock, his fingers did know how to please you as if he was using his cock. Like, how big it was, how fast he was able to thrust his fingers inside you, and how deep it was able to reach inside of you. Better than you ever expected it.

“You gonna come sweetheart? Cum around my fingers, c’mon make a mess for me darling.” He coo’s. “Godd.. Toji.” You wince as his fingers abuse your g-spot, driving you on edge as you chase your orgasm.

Before you knew it, you had squirted in his hand. You thought it was embarrassing, Toji on the other hand thought it was cute. What he did next left you flabbergasted.

He brought his hand from between your thighs and licked a strip of your juices, making you agap your mouth open and slap him lightly on his arm.

“Oh my gosh, Toji!” You shut your eyes and clenched your sticky wet thighs together. The heat in your cheeks getting hotter as you realize you don’t have your underwear no more.

“What’s wrong? ‘m in the wrong ‘for wanting to taste my sweet, innocent lil girlfriend?” Toji smirks.

You rolled your eyes and turned away from him to look out the window. “Let’s jus go home, i wanna’ go to bed already old man.” You abruptly jabber out.

“Ahem— i mean, toji..” You coughed out once you notice the older man’s glare towards you.

“That’s my girl, always so polite.”

Your wobbly legs were not helping you once you tried walking out of Toji’s tesla, that was parked outside of his garage. Luckily, before you could’ve fallen Tojis muscular arm had a hold around your waist, keeping you steady from falling.

“—t’s your fault old man! Your fingers so fucking massive, might as well break me in half huh.” You complained and held onto his other hand that wasn’t around your waist. A snort was let out from the older male beside you as he walked the both of you towards your home.

“I’m supposed to be sorry? fuckin brat. Be happy it wasn’t my dick, shit could’ve been a thousand times messy.” Toji grinned down at you, watching as you don’t meet his eyes and look away embarrassed.

“The silent treatment huh? You’re breaking my heart, sweet girl.” He hums, his hands getting lose as he tries to pull away once you and him make it to the front porch of your home.

“..’m sorry, Toji.” You mumbled and hugged his torso, placing your head on his muscular chest. The thin, tight black shirt that was over his torso just held his figure so well, you couldn’t help but awe over your pretty boyfriend.

“it’s okay, baby. Now let’s go inside? Gumi might still be watching tv.” He kissed your forehead.

You nodded your head and twisted the doorknob leading you inside the house. The first thing you noticed was a little boy sitting on the couch, with a crayon on hand, drawing on a blank piece of paper.

“Gumi?” You called out to the little boy. Toji was behind you locking the door, but still paid attention to when you would interact with his son.

Megumi looked back at the entrance, you could’ve sworn his eyes lit up when he saw you. He jumped out of the seat and ran over to you, his arms wide open as he wants to pull you in a big hug.

“y/n!” The four year old cooed, giving you a big hug making you kneel down. You smiled and nuzzled your face into his hair, massaging his back.

“Hey, megumi. You missed me?” You mumbled to him. It’s been a few days since you’ve been home, staying on campus for the whole week meant not being able to see your loved ones. Which was a pain when you couldn’t see Toji, or Megumi.

“missed you s’much. Dad has been nagging me ever since you left..” He clung onto your arm, signaling that he wants you to carry him on your hip. Which you did.

“no th’fuck i didn’t. He jus wants you to feel bad for him, don’t fall for it.” Toji tsked and made his way towards the kitchen, to grab a drink of water.

You snickered and placed Megumi back on the couch, leaving him to continue drawing and watching his cartoons. Toji, who was still in the kitchen was occupied opening a wine bottle.

Your hands snaked around his torso as you buried your head into his back, your cheek being smushed in the process.

“Shower with me, please” You mumbled. Toji stopped using the cork screw and looked back at you with a questionable expression.

“y’want my dick hm? jus couldn’t wait til we made it to the bedroom.” Toji chuckled and ruffled your hair, placing a kiss on your temple.

“maybe.. but i just want to shower for now.” You winked, pressing a kiss on his lips. After, you walk towards the stairs unbuttoning your top.

Right then and there, he’s convinced that he’s inlove. Toji never believed in love, until he met you. A young, innocent soul who was willing to patch him up when he was badly injured after getting into another battle.

If he were to ever talk about love, or the person he cherishes the most. He’d talk about you, and him together. And Megumi of course.

The sounds of the shower running comes into his senses, along with your voice yelling for him to join you. A grin appears on his features.

“yeah, ‘m coming sweetheart hold up.”

A/N: don’t mind errors

Jujutsu Kaisen Masterlist

[papil0nglegs]

Friday night night funkin dating hcs!!

Warnings: Some nsfw stuff but nothing too far, boob grabbing, bra stealing, nudes but not rlly

A/n: I HAVE ANOTHER OBSESSION UGHHH, anyways!! I’m so happy the fandom is reviving bc of the new update ahh. Also I didn’t rlly know what to put for bc so apologies if you wanted more of him :(

Keith (bf):

He’s such a flower sniffer istg

He’s like a rosy cheeked sweetheart who brings you heart chocolate every time he visits you

No but actually he’s wrapped around your fingers, it’s scary.

His fav dates are you and him alone at his house watching Godzilla movies and laying his head against your stomach while you play with his hair

AND YOU WEAR HIS HAT

Sometimes you’ll send a pic of you in his boxers that he left at your house just to tease him

But whenever he feels silly (which is all the time) he’ll send a picture of him in your bra for funsies

“I can do that too :D”

“0_•”

Keith is such a nerd, playing video games with him is your go to date

You guys would always match, like whenever you two play Mario kart he’d be toad and you’d be toadette

You hype him up sm, esp when playing Fortnite 😭

Y’all know that one Tik tok audio that goes

“Yeah get his ass FUCKING PUSSY TRY THE FUCK AGAIN BITCH, TRY THE FUCK AGAIII”

You do that, and it scares him.

His fav activity? Pot + cartoons.

You guys are the silliest couples ever. Laughing at SpongeBob with fog all over the room until your ribs start to hurt.

“Babes.. do you think that like-Starfires armpits are also pink?”

“…woah”

Pico:

Now when pico first starting dating you he thought you were just another chick to stuff his wiener in.

But soon enough, you guys were both wrapped around each others finger.

He’d kill for you tbh

Pico canonically has abs, so he likes it whenever he’s chilling with you and you just poke/rub them. He thinks it’s the cutest AND hottest shit ever

This man cannot get enough of your boobies, whenever he’s on his phone he’d have his arm around you and casually use your boob as a stress ball.

Sometimes he’ll just steal your bras whenever you’re showering or changing, just so that he can get a fresh look at ‘his girls’ (that’s what he calls them)

“Pico!! Have you seen my bra?”

“Hm? Na babe, I’m js here.”

This sly fuckin ginger

Most of his dates consist of going to his fav burger joint or sleeping over at each others houses

He esp loves the second one cuz he gets to makeout with you, prob his fav thing to do in this life.

Whenever you guys leave any function, like ever, he’ll yell out your ship name as he leaves the room 😭

“Pi-y/n, OUT”

“Babe you don’t have to do that every time we leave..”

Also his dad (Tankmen) loves embarrassing him in front of you.

(Tankmen) “Yeah so Pico kept pissing himself in the bed until 7th grade, shit had me concerned but turns out it was just normal puberty shit.”

(You)“Oh..”

“Dad I’m gonna kill you.”

Lmao he did eventually

Darnell

Darnell has such a big ego on being a ‘cool tough guy’, but when it comes to you it entirely washes away

It embarrasses him whenever he’s around his friends and you come over and start smooching him all over his face, getting lipgloss/lipstick all over him

“Mwah mwah mwah!!”

“B-baby. Babe, you’re ruining my aura.”

But he loves showing you off, you’re like his biggest flex. Whenever he hangs with his friends he always shows pictures of you like you’re his newborn

“Yeah so this is when we went to the skate park the other week and-“

“Dude. This is like the 5th picture you’ve shown me of them.”

Once for Valentine’s Day, he surprised you by spray painting an entire wall of you smooching him. (But like in the style of the fnf stickers they sell)

You were in such awe, you almost cried.

He was so embarrassed to show you at first, but when he saw how much you loved it he was so relieved

You and Nene are such besties

Like, squealing while talking about boys besties

“HII Y/N!!! :33”

“OMG HEY NENE!! ^^”

So when she found out you had a crush on Darnell, she was so excited

You guys became delusional abt him together, like

“NENE TODAY DARNELL LOOKED AT ME”

“STOPP HE WANTS YOU SO BADD”

“IKR”

O and your weapon (cuz everyone in picos friendgroup has one) is a broken glass bottle of whatever your fav drink is

Sometimes you’ll throw in a burning rag in there to make a Molotov cocktail

Also I hc that Darnell has thick silver rings and you love how they feel against your neck whenever you guys are smooching.

He lets you wear them at times but they always slip off because our boy has some THICK fingers.

[wolfish-trickster]

Don't make me choose

Gojo x fem!reader

Part 2

Word count: 1.4K

Summary: it's been some time since you've started dating the infamous Satoru Gojo. But lately you feel more like the two of you are just cuddle/fuck buddies and not a real couple. You make him choose his priorities which is something the strongest doesn't like.

Warnings: bad grammar (possibly), typos, angst, very little comfort

When Gojo Satoru first asked you out you couldn't be happier. The first time he caught your eye was when he zoomed past you together with Geto on one bike. You got so startled you fell to the ground and scratched your knee. You thought at first that they will just leave you there and probably laugh at you later at a pub, talking to their friends how they knocked over a clumsy girl in a park. What completely shocked you was Gojo running up to you with Geto pushing their bike behind him asking you if you were okay and if you need any help.

The rest is history.

Now, three years later, things have been going well. Mostly.

You had the ultimate boyfriend experience. Nice dates, wholesome anniversaries, moving in together, having fun. You did everything in your power to not get boring, for him to not get bored. You cooked, cleaned, asked him how his day was, acted silly with him even when you were exhausted after a long day.

So why? Why was he spending more and more of his free time away from you?

It started out small. The first time you started noticing was like a month ago. As soon as he came home he told you he's going to the pub with Geto and Nanami. You told him to have fun of course, not wanting to seem like that girlfriend that doesn't allow their boyfriends having fun without them. Then from one weekend it became every weekend. Both of you were busy during the week, the only time you had for yourself was during the night and weekend. It soon became just nights.

Even during the week it was "babe, i have a day off tomorrow i'm going to Geto's" or "sorry we have to move the date night to sometime else, Geto is sick and has no one to take care of him" and once even "babe, remember how you told me about this place you used to love as a child? I'm going there with Geto! What a coincidence, right?". The last one hurt the most. Honestly, the last one was also what made you start noticing these in the first place. Once you looked into the past and counted all the times Gojo chose to spend his free time with his best friend instead of you you nearly slapped yourself. It was too many times. How could've you been so blind?

All off days were for Geto. All special days were once again for Geto. Weekends, holidays, his and yours birthdays, all for Geto fucking Suguru.

You needed to have a talk with him.

If he comes back that is. Lately he started to have sleepovers with Geto. As if both of them were teenage girls. You did ask to join them but they always told you off to "not disturb their boy time".

Steps echo outside your apartment. The door unlocks. And in comes...

"Babe," comes the voice of your beloved white haired guy, "I'm home."

"I can hear that," came your answer. You prayed it didn't sound too agressive. Your stomach was full of nervous butterflies, making it even worse to come up with a decent way to start the talk.

While you were thinking he came from the entrance hall to the kitchen where you were sitting and kissed you on the crown of your head. "I wanted to ask, do we have plans next wendesday? Because Suguru said he'd-"

"Listen," you interrupted him before he could even finish, "can we talk?"

Gojo chuckled. "That's a very scary sentence."

"Why? Have something to hide?"

"Nope," he put his bag down and leaned his back against the wall, "I'm listening. What is it?"

You took a deep breath. Then another. "Don't you think you're spending a little too much time with Geto?"

His playful smile loosend into a neutral line. "Elaborate?"

"It's just... you've been with him so much lately and I miss being with you-"

"I'm with you all the damn time. Every single night we-"

"Can't you let me finish?!" you said a little louder than intended but enough is enough. "Is that all you see me as? A fuck-buddy to warm your bed?"

Gojo groaned in annoyance. "No, of course not. But you're literally overreacting over here!"

"Overreacting? How? By wanting my boyfriend to be home on his off days? To spend some time with me and have fun like before?"

"Have fun times with you? What am I your babysitter?"

"Are you Geto's? All the fun stuff we used to do you're doing with him!"

"No, no darling," he stood up straight and walked towards you, backing you into the corner, "all the stuff we used to do I did with him first. He's my best friend! I've known him half my life! You have to have at least a bit of empathy to understand that."

Even cornered by a giant of a guy like him you didn't feel fear. The butterflies in your stomach died. What remained was just pain in your chest predicting what was about to come.

"Do you even see me as your girlfriend anymore, Gojo?"

"Oh, so we are on last name terms again?" he asked sarcastically and walked away to pour himself a cup of water.

"Answer me."

You watched him drink. Slowly. You've never seen a man drink this slow.

"Of course I do," he put the glass down, "what kind of a bullshit question is that?"

"It's how I feel Gojo. You're never here with me!"

"I am here now aren't I?" he poked his chest with his forefinger. "I'm here every single day and night, twentyfour fucking seven ever since we moved in together! Well excuse me I want to have some quality time with my best friend from time to time!"

You didn't want this. The yelling, the arguing. But it has to be done.

Now as a finishing touch. "Who do you value more?"

"Excuse me?" was all he said, too surprised to not hear you yell in return, just calmly asking your question.

"Who is more important to you? Your best friend or your girlfriend?"

Gojo covered his face with his palms and threw his head back. "You can't be serious right now," he groaned. "Suguru is my best friend. You can't just make me choose!"

"So I'm below a best friend. I might as well be called your friend with benefits..." you say more to yourself than him.

"There you go hating yourself again," he shook his head. "I get it, you want to hear me say how much you mean to me, how you're the most important thing in the world and other stuff I've told you a million times already and yet you still slip into this state. I might as well record myself saying those things so you could listen to them everytime you're attention starved," he pinched the bridge of his nose.

He sighed. "You know what? I'm tired of this. I still care about you, but you have to understand Suguru is-"

"I know," you interrupt his rant. "I'm tired too."

Gojo sighs. "Okay. Good. I knew we could talk this out," he said and picked up his sleepover bag again. "I hate arguing with you."

He walked past you to the bathroom to dump his pyjamas into dirty laundry. "Let's go to bed, okay?" he shouted from there.

After a quick shower he walked out the bathroom with nothing but sweatpants on and a towel around his neck.

However you weren't there. Not in the bedroom, nor living room, nor anywhere else. Confused Gojo walked around the apartment, looking for any signs where you might be hiding. Maybe you want to jumpscare him again to light up the tension?

Fine, two can play this game. He tiptoed into the bedroom to your massive closet and yanked it open.

You weren't there. But neither were your things. He quickly checked under the bed to see your beloved backpack missing.

Panicked he started calling out for you, thinking this was just a prank.

It wasn't.

You made him choose and without even realizing it he did.

[vivwritesfics]

Hungry Like The Wolf

Chapter Nine

She hadn't seen her best friend, Lando, in years. She didn't run into him the last time she was visiting her father and she doubted she'd see him this time. Things were different now. She wasn't aware of his furry little problem. Just like she wasn't aware of the vampires plaguing the town.

1.4K

Vampire!Oscar x Reader x Werewolf!Lando

Series Masterlist

Feel free to buy me a coffee ☕☕

She stood in front of her mirror, checking her reflection over one last time. She looked perfect, but she couldn't stop herself from finding faults.

But there was no time to change into something different. Something hit her window and she rushed to open it and stick her hand out.

There was Lando, his suit just slightly too small, revealing his ankles and wrists. Okay, maybe he was a little bit overdressed. "I can't climb up!" He shouted, gesturing to his suit.

From behind her, her phone buzzed. She held her finger up to Lando as she checked the incoming messages. "Go round to the front! He's here," she called and pulled the window shut.

Slipping her phone into her little black purse, she left her bedroom.

"Where are you going?" Her father asked from the bottom of the stairs as she made her way down them.

"Out with Oscar," she said quickly. Maybe a little too quickly. Swallowing, she waited for her father to reply.

But he didn't have to. Susie grabbed his arm, pulling him out of the way. "Let her go and have some fun," she said as she pulled Toto away from the door. Her eyes sparkled as he step daughter walked forward, walked out of the door.

She strode towards Oscars car, looking for any sign of Lando. But Lando was nowhere to be seen. Frowning, she pulled open the passenger side door and slipped into the seat beside Oscar.

"Hey," he said, hand immediately settling on her leg.

She smiled at him. "Hey, Osc," she replied and leaned forward to kiss his cheek. "Where is Lando?"

Oscar put the handbrake down and began to drive away from the house. "Oh, he's around here somewhere."

Suddenly, from the back seat, Lando sat up. "Holy fuck!" She cried when she looked in the mirror to see him sitting there, in the middle seat. Turning in her seat, she smacked his knee a few times. But, to Lando, it felt like a fly landing on his skin. "That was so fucking scary, you ass!"

Both of the boys grinned through their laughs, revealing pointed teeth. But Oscar's were sharper, definitely more deadly.

The three of them didn't know what to speak about on the drive to the restaurant. A restaurant on the vampire side of town.

The vampire side of town was a lot more tolerant than the werewolf side of town. If Oscar was to try and get a meal on the werewolf side of town, he would have found himself as the meal for a pissed off werewolf. But the restaurant on the vampire side of town (which Oscar had called up before he started getting ready for the date) had food for all three of them.

He parked out front and rushed to open the door for her as well. "Thank you, Osc," she said, wearing a grin as he helped her to step out.

Lando climbed out of the car after them. He offered her his arm and, suddenly, she had no idea what to do.

She held her bag as she followed Oscar into the restaurant, Lando bringing up the rear. A waiter showed them to their table and the three of them sat down, immediately ordering drinks.

"So," she began as the waiter walked away from the table. "What do we do from here?"

Lando looked at Oscar. It was something he'd been wondering, too. He'd wanted to do what came naturally, but what came naturally to him wasn't what came naturally to them.

Oscar grabbed his hand on the top of the table. He reached across and grabbed her hand as well. "We set boundaries. We learn things about each other and we find out what we're comfortable with." He squeezed both of their hands in tandem.

They could do this. And the dinner they had just proved it.

It surprised Lando, just how easy it was for him to split his attention between the two of them. He didn't find himself paying special attention to one over the other. There was no conversation where two of them were leaving the remaining one out.

She and Lando could share food, but Oscar couldn't be a part of it. He didn't feel jealous when she scooped some food from her plate and fed it to Lando. No, if he joined in he would have been throwing up everywhere.

As soon as they'd eaten, the three of them stood. This time she offered Lando her arm, and he offered his to Oscar. They walked out like that, arm in arm (until they got to the door, where they were forced to let go of each other).

"Can I drive?" Asked Lando as they approached the car.

Oscar just pushed him into the back. She got into the passenger side and Oscar was the one to drive them away. "Where to next?" She asked, turning towards the two of them.

Oscar glanced at Lando in the rear view mirror. "I don't think we should go back to either of ours," he said honestly.

Suddenly, Lando met her eyes, a smirk crossing his face. "Treehouse?" He questioned, eyebrows raising and face full of mischief.

"What's the tree house?"

She sucked in a breath, her own grin dancing across her features. "When we were kids, our dads built us a tree house out in the woods. Somehow, it's still standing," she answered, and turned her attention back to Lando. "You really want me to climb up the ladder in my dress?"

"I don't mind," he answered and winked.

"Neither do I," Oscar said quickly.

She looked at them and folded her arms over her chest as sat back in her seat. "I'm sure you guys don't," she muttered, but she was smiling the entire time.

She and Oscar hadn't done anything yet. They'd kissed and she'd climbed into his lap, but they hadn't gone any further than that. But still, the idea of them watching her as she climbed the ladder had her suppressing her shiver.

Oscar parked up just up the road from her house. The three of them climbed out of the car and Lando began leading the way through the woods. He kept his hand outstretched behind him, as if it would help to guide them.

Holding Oscar with one hand, she grabbed Lando's to let him pull her through the woods. He and Oscar could see better than she could, Oscar's hands settling on her waist when she stumbled.

And, finally, they made it to the three house. "After you," Lando said to her, holding the ladder still.

She stuck her tongue out at him and began climbing up the ladder. The boys watched, Lando unashamed as he looked up her skirt and Oscar trying to look anywhere but. It wasn't as easy as that, though. He couldn't help it, breath hitching when he saw her pretty, lacy underwear.

Oscar climbed up next, followed by Lando. The two of them climbed up into the tree house, Oscar coming to sit beside her and Lando immediately crawling to the beers left in there from the last time he'd been in there with her.

Both boys knew it wouldn't get them drunk. Well, it wouldn't get Lando drunk, and it would take double the amount they had to get him pissed. Still, all three of them cracked their drinks open and began sipping.

They talked, but the talking didn't last very long. No, soon her beer was discarded to the side and she was crawling into Oscars lap. Her mouth was on his immediately, arms around his neck as Oscar pulled her closer.

Lando just watched. He sipped his drink, watching, until Oscar's eyes met his.

He crawled over after that. His lips touched her neck and a gasp left her lips, one that Oscar swallowed down. And then she started kissing down Oscar's pretty, pale neck. The kisses were soft and gentle, until her teeth grazed his skin and he chuckled.

Lando was kissing him suddenly. Leaning over her shoulder he kissed Oscar, caging her between their bodies. Oscar lifted one hand from her hip to run it through Lando's curls. He dragged his pointed teeth over Lando's bottom lip and the werewolf let out a throaty whine.

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@cassielikereading

@styl1shl1v

@ln4norizz

[spiderthesenutz]

hi!! may i request first date headcanons (☀️) with pavitr, gwen, miles and hobie? (gn reader)

First DATE with the Spider Quartet!

CINEMA!

Or stay at home and watch movies-

Definitely would try the stretch and around your shoulder move

Is internally screaming the entire time

He’s very nervous so if you say stuff like

“This is so fun! We should do this again!”

He MELTS

He’s like

“Again? I’d love to! I mean as long as you want to”

Absolutely they type to brush his hand against yours tryna hype himself up in his head

He walks you back home or if you’re already at your place watching movies he asks to go for a walk and then walks you home

Stands at your door all nervous like

“I really had fun with you today Y/N”

“I really enjoyed it to miles, let’s do it again sometime yeah?”

If you lean in and kiss him he just stands there like: ( ・∇・)

Then you have two different processes:

Miles: omg they just kissed me- so does this mean another date or? I’m literally falling harder oh god-do they still like me? WAS THAT A PLATONIC KISS?

Y/n: LETS FUCKING GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

PUNK CONCERTS!

But also movie nights at his place, cuddled up on the sofa

SELF CARE NIGHTS

dying each-others hair (more him dying yours and you begging to do his much to him amusement)

He definitely gave you a piercing at some point

Hanging out in his bedroom jamming out to his music

Having little dates where you meet up in a little remote area and just chill out without hearing the world around you

Wouldn’t take you swinging-BUT he does take you to the top of the Big Ben

Which you both spray paint and flee the scene

Y/n: oh! We can watch shark boy and lava girl and make out during the scary parts

Hobie:…

Y/n:…

Y/n: what?

Hobie:the scary parts of shark boy and lava girl?

CAFE DATES, MOVIE NIGHTS AND STUDY DATES

Late night movie nights/sleepovers

Cuddles whilst you have movie marathons

He just loves having his hands on you

Cuddling on the couch during movie dates

You playfully calling chai “chai tea” and watching him pout

“Oh come on you know I don’t mean it”

“No no kisses for an hour- you know what you did”

He’s really warm so you never need a blanket, just Pavitr

He’s 100% the type to just lie on top of you with his face in your chest whilst you play with his hair not paying attention to the movie

Y/n: Since we're in a relationship now, your clothes are my clothes too. Don't ask me why I have your shirt on, this is our shirt.

Pavitr: Fine, but when I come strutting in with your fuzzy socks I don't want to hear shit.

SKATEBOARD DATES

Or just going to the park with a ton of snacks

Late night walks/store runs

Self care nights after a stressful day

Spontaneous dates when something happened with her dad and she needs to cheer up

You put on her favourite movie

Gather her favorite snacks you keep stockpiled for moments like this

Cuddle up on the sofa at yours as you stroke her hair and comfort her

Sleeping on the couch together!

Gwen: Y/n, you love me, right?

Y/n: Normally I’d say yes without hesitation, but I feel like this is going somewhere I won’t like.

[natailiatulls07]

Haunted house

Oscar Piastri x female!reader

Summary - McLaren are doing a haunted house halloween video and Oscar manages to rope in his girlfriend

Warning - Blood (fake), swearing, chainsaw (fake), clowns, spiders and a mention of the exorcist??

A/n - Another first timer today!! I love Oscar!! 🤍

23 Halloween season

-

When Oscar told me that McLaren were doing a Halloween challenge video for their YouTube channel and had offered Oscar to rope me in, I was excited. Growing up I Ioved Halloween; dressing up, getting free sweets and watching spooky movies, they were just so exciting to me.

Naturally I grew up but yet I still held that love for the holiday. So that’s why I agree and now I’m in the passenger seat of Oscars car on our way to the secret location.

Every so often he was gently rub his thumb across my thigh, we were have a light conversation between ourselves.

Eventually, Oscar pulled in a car park when the McLaren social media team and Lando were stood around just talking and most likely waiting for our arrival. “Ah the couple has arrived!” The Brit was the first to notice us and announce our arrival.

Getting out the car, I was grateful that I decided to wear a large cream wool sweater because the weather felt nippy. “Hey dude!” Oscar and Lando greeted each other with a quick fist bump. It was soon followed by a quick side hug between me and Lando.

-

The McLaren pr manager was quick to fill us in with the details of the video; we all would be going into the haunted house, go through the different sections and then come back out at the end. Simple as that.

At this point though, thats when my nerves kicked in. I started to get anxious but I didn't want to show that emotion, knowing that if I did Oscar would make me not do it.

The team started to film, before Lando and Oscar explaining the video to the viewers. "Hey guys! So today me, Lando and Y/n are going to do this super fun haunted house!" There's sarcasm in his voice when he says 'super fun', which makes both me and Lando laugh together.

Lando manages to compost himself. "There will be multiple different sections to the house, however we don't know what the sections are and what they're like" I look over to the entrance of the house and cringe. "So let's go!"

We all start to walk towards the entrance with the camera man behind us. "Ladies first..." As if insync, Lando and Oscar move to allow me to walk in first which I quickly say thank you to and walk inside despite my nerves.

Once inside, it's pitch black. I can hear distant noises which I cannot describe, foreign noises. A hand goes to grasp mine and I jump at the sudden contact. "It's me, sweetheart" Oscars australian accent comes from behind me in the darkness.

"Oh god...we're two steps in and Oscars already being all lovey dovey" The Brit from what sounds like behind Oscar complains.

"You're such a child!" Oscar moans as to which laugh along with him.

After walking about five steps through the darkness, we come to another door. Making our way through the door, I'm greeted with walls decorated in thousands of tiny orange, blue and green glow in the dark dotes. "Oh this is cute!" I comment but immediately regret my words when a glow in the dark clown starts jumping out on us.

"AH FUCK!" Lando shouts, even though he is the furthest back out of the three of us. The bright clown laughs hideously and starts making his way towards me.

I'm suddenly pull back by my hand, the hand that Oscar has ahold of. Colliding with his chest I feel him quickly moving us past the clown onto the next section.

Just as we made it past the clown, the two of us hear Lando again. "You ain't scary bitch!" There's a pause. "AH Wait fuck, maybe you are!"

Oscar leans his head down, so that his mouth is next to my ear. "Are you okay?" He whispers, and in that moment I feel alone and disconnected from the world with him.

Nodding my head. "Yeah, it was cute and then that fucker came. But yeah I'm okay" I lean up to give him a quick kiss on the lips before looking around at the next section.

There's a bloody operation table, laid on top is a little girl dressed in a long white gown. Her hair long, black and extremely tangled. Around us, looks like an old operating room yet the walls, much like the table, is covered in crimson blood.

You know instantly when Lando has entered because of his uncontrolable reaction. "EW! WTF" I find myself laughing at his childish reaction to the section, Oscar laughs along with me.

Lights start flashing and we all turn to the girl on the table. Noticing how she is now slowly moving up into a sitting up position. "Oh and she lives, just fucking brilliant!" McLarens British driver comments sarcastically.

Once she sits up, her waist turns so she is now facing us. "Help me! Help! He's going to kill me!" Just as she finishes her sentance, we all hear the whirring of a chainsaw behind us as to which we all turn. Coming face to face with a tall and broad man, in his hands there's a chainsaw and much like the rest of the room covered in blood.

He jumps forward, more so my way, causing me to scream out in fright. "I need another body...yours will do" He smiles disturbingly.

“Yeah fuck this, no way are you coming after my girl sir!” This took both me and Lando by surprise as Oscar was never one to react this much openly. He quickly moves us out of the room, Lando still behind us when he says “Yeah that’s right bitch! Back off!” Followed by his high pitch laugh and a high pitch scream, also from Lando.

-

We all collectively make our way through the rest of the haunted house, coming across a spider themed room and a exorcist themed room. As usual, Lando is making little comments and screams the whole way through.

Admittedly on some of the room, either me or Oscar join in Landos terrified comments.

I push through the long bunting across the door way, we come out of the haunted house. A camera team is set up awaiting our post haunted house reactions.

“That was fun!” I comment which earns me a dirty look from Lando, and a laugh from Oscar who has his arms wrapped around my waist.

Both Oscar and Lando are quick to make a outro, wrapping up the video. After talking with the media team and Lando, me and Oscar get back into his car making our way home.

“Thank you for inviting me today baby” I say, looking over at Oscar who is focusing on the road.

“It’s alright, plus I needed someone to put up with Lando so thank you!” Pulling up to a red light, Oscar takes my hand and kisses my knuckles gently.

-

Tag list - @ilovechickenwings @carlossainzwho @ipab @erikasurfer @soph1644

[urlovebot]

⋆⭒˚｡⋆ Attention

bada accompanies you to your high school reunion

cw: nothing too bad. actually, not suggestive! bada lee being fine as hell... y/n acting up per usual. really fluffy at the end. enjoy!

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

when you asked bada to come with you to your high school reunion, you didn’t think much of it. Until now. you’re checking your outfit in the mirror, smoothing down your shirt. you looked fine. right?

“right. now let's go. we’re going to be late- albeit fashionably.” bada’s eyebrows wiggle as she states her thoughts. you have no CLUE how she’s so calm right now. did she not also feel the pressure of meeting people you once know and now are going to meet in a battle of who’s more accomplished? don't get yourself wrong, you’re more than happy to have bada coming with you, the thought easing your anxiety a little. but still, what would people say when they saw you two?

bada strides over to you, “you look gorgeous honey, let's go show them.”

you weren’t necessarily unpopular in school, but you definitely weren’t everyone's cup of tea. this thought alone made you nervous- but you’re fine. bada is there. she’s right beside you.

you take a deep breath,

“thank you. we can leave now.”

now, you’re parked outside of the venue in which this reunion is taking place.

“i’m gonna be fucking sick.”

bada looks over at you in concern, “why? what’s wrong?”

you put your head in your hands, “you-” gag “Other people are going to perceive you. how am i supposed to cope with that.”

bada scoffs, “you had me worried," she shakes her head, "i’m getting out of this car, i’m going to come around to your door, open it, and pull you out. don’t worry about other people… perceiving me. your eyes are the only ones that matter to me. lets go.”

bada climbs out of the car and does exactly what she says. she rounds the car, hooks a hand under the door handle, opens it, and puts out a hand for you to grab hold of. once your hand is in hers, she brings it up to her mouth, kissing the back of it. you hesitantly get out of the car.

bada keeps her hand in yours, swinging the two back and forth. in the corner of your eye, you could see her smiling. she looks down at you as you reach the doors. you glare at her.

“why’d you have to leave the house looking like that. it’s like you’re trying to impress other women or something.”

bada was dressed like a whore in an all-black outfit, cap on her head and chains dangling from her neck.

“me? what about you?”

you were also wearing all black but instead of pants, you opted for a skirt that bada thinks should be banned from you ever wearing outside of the house. it wasn’t even that short, it just fit you so well that bada believes the view should only be for her.

you huff, “bada if anyone tries to talk to you that's not me, scream stranger danger please-”

she rolls her eyes, “you are so dramatic. nobody is going to be interested in seeing me here, this is your high school reunion, not mine.”

you press on anyway, making her pinky promise to run away from any woman trying to approach her. You open the doors to reveal a room crowded with old classmates, some faces familiar, others not so much.

you didn’t really keep up with people after you graduated, having moved on to other, more important things early on in your life that just didn’t align with others your age. you danced under multiple different studios and academy’s, landing yourself at just jerk nearly a year ago. they’d asked you to choreograph to “sativa”, bada observed your class, and the rest is history.

the occasion was quite casual. you opted for some flowy, light colored clothing with silver jewelry. bada on the other hand was dressed like a whore in an all-black outfit, cap on her head and chains dangling from her neck. you often referred to her as your scary guard dog with a golden retriever personality. to be fair, she did look kind of scary today. her height did not help. bada lets you lead her into the room by her hand.

you’re greeted by a few people right off the bat. bada just observes behind you. you’re cute in the way your eyes light up when people ask you what you’ve been up to. she’s so proud at how much you’ve accomplished, and she loves when you show yourself off. alternatively, you love showing your girlfriend off. people already knew exactly who she was. bada lee was an extremely popular name amongst your classmates as you went to a performing arts highschool. Imagine their surprise when you walk in with bada lee in tow.

in conversation she laughs where she needs to, butts in when appropriate, and lets you guide the conversation. once the group leaves, you heave a sigh of relief. you lean back into your girlfriends' sturdy figure and her arms circle around your waist. she kisses your temple.

“do you want me to get you a drink?”

you nod, hesitantly letting her remove her arms from around you. another old classmate comes up to you to make small talk, but in the corner of your eye you see a woman approach bada. you take a deep breath. it's fine. you can have a normal conversation without worrying-

you feel your eye twitch when you see the woman lean up to say something to your tall and sexy girlfriend. bada responds and this woman laughs and… caresses bada’s arm while doing so. you start to worry until bada’s eyes swiftly meet your own and she throws a wink your way. reassured, you continue your conversation.

bada looks at this woman like she’s crazy. all she wanted to do is get you a drink and now this woman by the name of “mina” is borderline harassing her.

“...and that’s the most recent studio i’ve danced for. are you still at just jerk? you should invite me to one of your classes.” she smiles, but bada knows the intent behind her eyes. per her girlfriends' silent request found from her pleading eyes across the room, she ends the conversation.

“no thank you. you can always sign up through our website and hope you can get a spot that way. good luck!” bada grabs your drink and leisurely walks away, leaving mina’s face stuck in bewilderment.

you’re mid conversation when you feel bada’s arm wrap around your shoulder, she hands you your drink, “sorry it took so long,” she kisses your cheek, “who’s this?”

with a light blush on your face, you introduce your old classmate. they give bada a warm smile. you felt good. you knew people were eyeing the both of you, probably wondering how you ended up with someone like bada. you almost start to worry about the stares, but bada knows you. she can see in the slight crease on your forehead that you’re thinking yourself into oblivion. her hand smooths down your back, resting just above the curve of your bottom. she traces small circles there as she strikes up conversation with your friend.

when bada excuses herself to go use the restroom, your old friend group approaches you, ogling at bada as she walks away.

“y/n… she is so…”

you squeal and cover your mouth, “I know- i know!”

when you watch her stride back into the room, her eyes never leave yours. bada loved you. and you loved her. and anyone in the room could feel that radiating off of the both of you.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

a/n: this was much shorter and more fluffy than i intended it to be so just know a part two is coming 🤭

[tamas-love]

（ 제목 ） THE MORGUE.

PRESENT.⠀⟡​⠀working at the morgue late at night, something seems to be messing with you.

（ 박종성 ） — pairing = fem!worker + deadbody!jay.. ୨୧ warning = eery-ish, jay is a corpse.. ୨୧ wc = 731

a/n : a scary one !! i'm not sure if other people might find it scary, but i HATE morgues, it's the scariest thing for me..

click me! ↓

ㅤ𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐒𝐀𝐓 𝐀𝐓 your desk, looking down at your time for most of the time. Today was the first day you had a nightshift, and it wasn't that bad. Most of the employees that worked at the morgue had quit their job the next day after working the night, but you didn't understand why.

ㅤ"How's the job?" Your best friend asks, fortunately lying in bed since she was unemployed. "It's not that bad, I just have to watch the cameras and check for any new bodies to store." You reply, messing around with your nails in boredom. 

ㅤ"That's not that bad, did you see anything spooky yet?~" She asks in a playful voice to which you roll your eyes and hang up. It was pretty normal for you to hang up on her at any random time, so she didn't think much of it.

ㅤYou look up at the monitors, showing what the camera picks up. You got a little bored so you put on the headphones, listening to the audio footage that the camera records. "...drop, drop." There was a faint sound of liquid droplets, which could mean a leak from one of the blood drainers.

ㅤTaking off the headphones, you place them down on the table and get up. Going over to the body storage rooms and flicking on the lights. You look around, scratching your scalp a little before going over to the sink area.

ㅤ"Ah, fuck." You mutter, watching how one of the body locker doors were slightly open and dripping with a black-ish colored liquid. You pull open the door all the way, carefully pulling out the roller for the corpse before pulling the body out of the capsule.

ㅤYou stare down at the dead man's face, glancing at the front of the door and checking to see what his name is. "Okay, Park Jay.. Let's clean you up." You say, as if talking to the body for real.

ㅤAs you look into the body capsule which was now empty you saw a little black figure.

ㅤQuickly jumping back before looking closer, there was nothing there. It looked like a pair of eyes and a black fog, but you suppose that you were hallucinating. You turn back to the corpse of Park Jay, rolling him away.

ㅤYou open the file holder, browsing through the files. "Lee.. Kim? Park? Park!" You saw the surname of Park, quickly pulling out the folder and opening it. "Park Sunghoon?" You mumble, before closing the folder and putting it back to its place before picking up the other one labeled as park.

ㅤ"Park Jay, here we are." Talking to yourself, you look at the file and quickly scan through it before putting it back. In the corner of your eye, you see the corpse's head slowly turn to face you. A creepy squelching sound coming from the neck.

ㅤYou turn your head and stare at it, blinking a few times. Suddenly, it sat up. It sat up. It fucking sat up. You scream in your head, freezing in place as the corpse's head turns again and faces you. This time, its neck let out a loud squelching sound and then a crack once it stopped.

ㅤYou stayed frozen, staring at the body of Park Jay. "What the-" As you spoke, the lights went out. Leaving you in a pitch black room with no idea where to go. Behind you, you hear a plop. As if the body fell back to it's original position.

ㅤThe lights slowly flicker back on, allowing you to see around the room again. You look down, and then around. Only to see the body was gone. No way it just got up and left, right? "Jay fu-" As you step forward, you hear something shift behind you.

ㅤIt sounded like the rustling of the paper gown the corpses had to wear. You shift your gaze down towards your feet, a puddle of blood surrounding you. "Huh?" You slowly turn around, only to see his body standing before you. The dim light from above reveals his dead pale skin and lifeless eyes.

© tamas-love on tumblr, © tamas-love on wattpad ㅤㅤ𓈒ㅤㅤ𓈒 taglist open.⠀⦂ ⠀@nheyri , @uoalirie

[sturniololoco]

i LOVEDDD the pregnancy one!! can you do more like that like maybe when she has the baby and how they help her?

Pregnant pt 2

Sturniolo Little Sister (SLS) x The Sturniolo Triplets

Warnings: baby spit up, tiredness, cuteness overload, etc.?

Note: This is so perfect bc I'm ab to get another little sibling tomorrow! (Don't mind the age gap lol)

Chris's POV

Why does giving birth to a child take so damn long?

SLS/N was finally giving birth to her little girl today, so Matt, Nick, and I were sitting in the waiting room, bouncing our legs and biting our nails, waiting.

Soon, a nurse came out into the room, asking for the Sturniolo family. The three of us immediately stood and followed her to a room.

"Which one of you is the husband?" the nurse asked, making small talk as we walked down the hallways.

all of our faces burned bright red at her question.

"O-Oh, no! She's our sister!" I said, giving a light laugh along with my brothers.

She stopped in front of a room and opened the door. Putting a finger to her lips, she motioned us inside, then left us there, closing the door again behind her.

We nervously walked around the corner to see SLS/N sitting up against the pillows of her hospital bed, holding a freshly bathed baby girl.

We smiled at her, quietly coming next to her and giving her a side hug.

"Hey, kiddo. How ya feelin'?" I asked my little sister, kissing her on top of her head. I knew it hurt her, but she was tough. She was gonna love this kid with her whole heart.

"I'm doing pretty good actually." She said. She had the biggest of smiles on her face, and it never stopped shining.

"You guys wanna meet Charleigh?" She asked motioning to the baby in her arms. We all smiled, leaning down to say hello.

"Hello, little Charleigh! It's your favorite, Uncle Chris!" I said, rubbing my finger over her soft smooth hand. I internally cringed at my baby voice, but at this point, I didn't even care.

SLS/N giggled, lifting her up to get me a better look at her face.

"Here, why don't you hold her." She asked, getting up out of bed gently so as not to wake her sleeping baby.

"I-Uh...Ok," I said.

I was kind of scared to hold her.

What if I drop her? What if she wakes up? What if she cries? What if-

My thoughts were cut off by SLS/N placing her in my arms, and showing me how to hold her. She sat me down on the couch and put a pillow under my arm.

Charleigh only moved a little, but then went right back to sleep. I let out a nervous breath I had been holding in, relieved as I realized that this was not as scary as I thought.

"She's so perfect," I say, looking down at her and smiling.

"Now that's a good picture!" Nick says, holding up his phone to snap a shot.

-

Matt's POV

The next day, SLS/N and the baby were discharged from the hospital and ready to get home.

SLS/N was carrying the baby in her car seat, the one that took Chris and me 2 and a half hours to get the base in the car.

She put Charleigh into the car and then climbed in next to her, Nick in the way back, Chris in the front next to me.

Then It hit me.

I'm driving a newborn baby. What if we crash? What if I run off a bridge? what if-

"Matt? You okay?" I hear SLS/N ask me.

"I-Uh...No. what if something goes wrong? It'll be all my fault! And then-" I start rambling, my anxiety flooding through my veins.

"Hey, hey. Listen to me. I trust you more than anyone in the world to drive my baby and me home. If I didn't, then I wouldn't put her in the car. But you're the only person I would want to drive in this situation, okay?"

Her words instantly calmed me. I began to feel braver, happy that she felt like she could put so much trust in me. I back out of the parking lot and make our way home.

-

Nick's POV

We pull into the driveway and my sister gets the baby out of the car. she then walks to the back to get her stuff.

But I beat her to it.

"Don't be silly SLS/N! You just had a fucking baby, go sit down and I'll get the stuff." I order her.

I really want to help my sister as much as I can, she's already been through so much. I want to support her through all her decisions, showing her that I love and support her.

"Aw, thanks, Nick!" She says, walking into the house after Matt, who had just unlocked the door.

I grab her and the baby's bags, then walk into the house after her.

-

"Hey Sis, I made you a surprise!" I say to my sister, walking into the living room with a plate behind my back.

She had just gotten Charleigh asleep in Matt's room since it was the closest to the living room. She was now lounging on the couch with Matt and Chris.

She sits up and claps her hands, closing her eyes. I place the plate in front of her.

"Oh fuck yeah!" she says, digging into the quesidllia I made her. I laugh as she sighs in delight. I have no ide why she even likes these that much, I can't cook worth a shit.

as she sets her plate down on the table, she scoots closer to the three of us, wrapping her arms around our necks in a big group hug.

"I love you guys," She says, squeezing us tight.

Just as I was about to respond, I heard a cry on the baby monitor.

"I'll get her!" Chris shouts, jumping up to retrieve our new favorite niece.

@idkwhosnyla @babypat08 @eyelessdemon00 @christopherowensturniolo @sturnsxx @freshloveforthefit @matty443355 @sleepysturnss @emeraldgreenbeautiesstu @sunsetsturniolos @hoesturniolo @x4nd3rsukz @chr1sgirl4life @sstvrnioloo @sturns-posts @chrisstopherfilmed @kylasrealityx @zoeysturnioloooooo @comet235 @islaasblog @sturnioloblogs @defnotayonna @mattsleftnipple03 @thematthewlover @mattsaq

[buckevanley]

any other bodily sense.

you can also read it here on ao3

The second Eddie steps into the dark, muggy parking lot at the end of his first twenty-four hour shift since a ladder truck blew up his best friend’s life, Maddie is calling him. 

This strikes Eddie as odd for two reasons. One, he didn’t even know he had Maddie’s actual number in his phone. He’s gotten so used to hearing her calm, steady timbre over the radio during calls that her voice has more or less become synonymous with imminent emergency incoming in his head. 

Two, he and Maddie have never really actively spoken on the phone before outside of that bubble of imminent emergency incoming, which leaves Eddie to assume that there’s only one thing she could be calling about. 

He picks up on the third ring. “Maddie?” 

“Eddie, hi,” Maddie’s voice rushes out on a sigh, relief staticky down the phone line. “Sorry, I know it’s late. Or, God–really, really early. I hope I didn’t wake you. Did I wake you?”

“Uh, no. No, you caught me at the perfect time, actually,” he says, looking around the slowly emptying parking lot as the rest of the shift shuffles off to their cars. The rain, which has been an endless droll on the station roof all day, finally petered off, leaving every surface shiny and slick in the streetlights starting to come to life. The heat is already starting to bake it off, filling his nose with the smell of wet, hot asphalt and steam. 

He sniffs, staving off the tickle of a sneeze. “What’s up? Is everything okay?” 

“Yes, everything’s fine. It’s just–,” she takes a breath, and it’s so different from her usual steadiness that the muscles in his shoulders pull tense, like his body knows the answer before she even says it. “It’s Buck.”  

Eddie grimaces, suspicions confirmed, and immediately kicks into gear. He takes long, wide strides across the parking lot to get to his truck, pinching the phone between his cheek and shoulder to dig for his keys in his pocket. “What happened?” 

“We just got back from the ER. He’s fine,” Maddie adds immediately, like she can hear the way Eddie’s stomach shoves its way up into his lungs. “He’s okay, it’s just a bad cold. But he’s running a pretty high fever, and with it coming on so recently after his surgery,” her voice trails off, and Eddie puts two and two together easily. 

“You were worried it could be something worse,” he finishes for her. Postoperative fevers aren’t unusual—Eddie had his own rough go of it after the surgeon pulled three bullets out of him overseas. He remembers the shivering, the pins and needles, the misery of his body stuck in overdrive while it slowly tried to pull itself back together—but it must be a bad one if it’s got Maddie worried enough for an ER trip. His mind helpfully fills in the blanks on potential complications, all of them scary, none of them pleasant.  

“Yeah,” she replies softly. He hears a little sniff, and he can almost see the way her brows pull together as she tries to stave off the tears, nodding.“Yeah, he just spooked me, is all.” 

Eddie doesn’t waste any time. He hauls himself into the truck in one, swift movement, the handle wet beneath his fingers. “What do you need me to do?” 

“Come over? To the loft,” she asks, then laughs a little. The sound is tired, but helplessly fond. “He wants to sleep in bed, and I can’t carry him up the stairs.” 

Well, okay. Neither can Eddie. But somehow he doesn’t think she would appreciate that sentiment right now, when she’s so clearly trying to make her little brother less miserable in an already pretty fucking miserable situation. A tight knot, hidden and tucked snugly against the underside of his sternum gives a ferocious little tug when he realizes that he was the person she thought to call to make that happen. 

And he would try, if it really came down to it. He would carry Buck up those god awful stairs, leg cast and all, if it meant that his best friend was just a little less miserable. 

Eddie would’ve picked that ladder truck up and thrown it down the street for Buck, if it was within his power. 

“Curse of being short,” he jokes instead of saying any of that, and it earns him a scoff of protest, light with surprise. It’s a genuine thing, though, and helps that knot in his chest loosen, just a little. “Give me a few minutes to pick up some things. I’ll be over in ten.” 

On the drive over he calls Pepa, explaining the situation and letting her know that he’s going to have to pick up Christopher in the morning instead of tonight. He feels bad that she had to stay up so late waiting only for him to call off at the last minute, but she swiftly assuages his guilt, citing that she’s happy to let the little boy sleep. 

“We’re fine here, Edmundo. Don’t worry about us,” she says, tone steady and patient, and he feels like he can breathe a little easier for it. “In the morning I will have some caldo de pollo for you to bring to your boy. It will help him feel much better.” 

At first Eddie thinks she means Christopher. But before he can open his mouth to correct her on the fact that Buck is not his boy, just a good friend and work partner, Pepa is wishing him goodnight and ending the call with a long, overexaggerated yawn. Eddie snorts, wishing her a good night and ending the call with a press of his thumb. 

In the following silence, he can’t help the sound of disbelief that huffs out of his lungs, shaking his head. 

Buck. His boy. 

He sits with that thought as he drives, tires swirling through the steam drifting listlessly off the sleepy, wet streets of LA. A slow seeping warmth begins to spread from where that knot is pulling loose in his chest, making its way into his limbs, buzzing and heavy. Grip on the wheel tightening, he feels the muscle jump in his jaw.  

Despite the fact that it feels like sinking, it’s not claustrophobic. If anything, it feels snug, like stability. Like being held. 

He doesn’t know why that scares him so much.

By the time he parks and is walking up to the loft, he’s literally shaking out his arms to get rid of the feeling. He stops as soon as he realizes, feeling silly. Eddie takes the stairs two at a time to get to Buck’s floor, his gym bag bumping against his hip where it’s swinging from his shoulder. He manages to wrestle the feeling back down by the time he makes it to the door. 

He knocks, even though he has a key, but with Maddie inside it just feels better to knock. Like he’s offering her some control in a situation she already has very little over. Her brother is sick and hurting, and she’s the one who has the power to open the door and let Eddie in to help. He can give her that, at least.

He doesn’t have to wait for long. He’s barely lifted his knuckles from the wood when the door is swinging open to reveal Maddie on the other side, looking both so elated and so deeply tired that Eddie’s heart aches a little at the sight of her. 

“Thank you for coming,” she says the second she opens the door, stepping back to let him inside. “Really, Eddie. I mean it.” 

“Don’t thank me yet,” he replies, aiming for joking as he steps carefully inside while she shuts the door behind him. Setting his bag down by the island counter, he turns back to her, running his palms down and back up his thighs to stop himself from wringing them together. “Not until he’s up those stairs. How’s he doing?”

“Better now with the Tylenol I just gave him,” Maddie says, keeping her voice soft. She runs a hand through her hair, holding it back out of her face as she fills him in with a sigh. “They said everything looked okay with his stitches, no signs of infection or bad drainage. We’ve been really careful about keeping the cast dry when he showers, so there’s no irritation from water damage. It’s terrible timing, but it really is just a bad cold. There’s not much else we can do but fill him up with cough medicine and hope he doesn’t chew his own leg off from boredom.”

“Easier said than done,” Eddie says, leaning back against the counter. After a moment his brows draw together. “You said we?”

“Me and Evan, yeah,” Maddie nods. Her cheeks color a little, but she smiles as she tells him, “Chimney’s been helping me out with bringing meals over, too. Oh, and sometimes Josh comes by after work and we play cards.” 

“What happened to Ali?” It’s out of his mouth before he can think about it, and he watches something in Maddie’s eyes shutter closed like a steel grate. She opens her mouth to answer, but is interrupted by the sound of snuffling from around the loft stairs. 

He exchanges a quick glance with Maddie, eyebrows raised. She only shakes her head, mouth pressed into a thin line, and that’s all Eddie needs to confirm his suspicions about the noticeable lack of girlfriend in Buck’s apartment at the moment. He’s a little relieved, if he’s honest. Ali was nice enough, but Eddie always quietly thought there really wasn’t a lot that she and Buck had in common, besides surviving a 7.1 earthquake.  

It’s easy to push up off the counter and give in to gravitational pull in his chest, the one that pulls him around the loft stairs like a needle compass to true north, to see his best friend bundled up on the couch, groggily sitting up and blinking awake, slowly emerging from underneath a fuzzy purple throw blanket that’s tucked underneath his chin. 

Buck looks, to put it nicely, like warmed up roadkill. It’s only been a week since he left the hospital, and the nasty scrape on his forehead is still healing, purplish green bruising skating down his temple to his chin like an oil spill. The fever is a bright red stain high up on his cheeks, and the soft pink of his mouth, half open already since he can’t breathe through his nose, drops a little further in surprise. He blinks up at Eddie, eyes owlish and blue. “Eddie?” 

It’s more of a croak than his name, but Eddie thinks it might be one of his favorite sounds in the world. 

“Hey, bud,” he says, way softer than he means to, and moves to sit down on the coffee table. He feels a smile pull across his face, and a real one at that. It’s the first time that he hasn’t had to force one in days. “How are you feeling?” 

“‘M fine,” Buck manages, and Eddie winces internally at how congested he sounds. Sniffing uselessly, Buck shuffles a little under his blanket. He swallows before finding his voice again. “What–what’re you doing here?” 

“I was in the neighborhood. Thought I’d pop in and see how you were doing.” At Buck’s somewhat glazed, disbelieving stare, Eddie relents. “Maddie called me. Said you weren’t feeling great, and that you needed some help getting up those stairs.” 

At that, Buck frowns, brows drawing in. It looks like it might sting, the way the scab by his eyebrow pulls. “You're not gonna be able to carry me.” 

“Why not?” 

“You’re too short,” Buck states, like it’s obvious. Eddie’s unable to muffle the miffed noise that kicks out of the back of his throat. 

“I am not,” he protests, and it only sounds a little like he’s whining. “I’m six foot!”

“An’ I’m six two,” Buck replies, like that somehow trumps all of Eddie’s firefighting and military experience. He opens his mouth to say as much, but Buck is busy shimmying the blanket back to reveal the awkward, clunky cast that will be chaining him down to that couch for the next three months. “‘Sides,” he says, “can’t carry me with this thing. Too heavy.” 

“Your cast does not weigh a ton, Buck,” Maddie says, crossing over from the kitchen to come perch on the armchair. From her tone it sounds like they’ve had this conversation before. 

“Does too,” Buck mumbles back, so sullen that Eddie has to bite back a smile. “Weighs two tons, probably. No way we make it up the stairs.” 

“Maybe you should’ve thought about that before you begged me to call Eddie to come carry you, then,” she replies, and Eddie’s brain trips over itself as every thought comes to a screeching halt like a comically long record scratch. 

“Maddie,” Buck whines. “You’re not s’pposed to listen to me. I was loopy on cough medicine.” 

“You’re still loopy on cough medicine,” she reminds him, sounding not sorry at all as she leans over and presses a kiss to the side of his temple that isn’t scraped to shit. Buck turns into it like a flower towards the sun, letting his sister card her fingers gently through his hair. “But look, Eddie’s here now, see? You’re welcome.” 

“Thank you,” Buck grumbles out, and Maddie rolls her eyes in a way that is both long-suffering and inexplicably fond. She leans back, and Buck peeks over at Eddie, almost like he’s shy. “Hi, Eddie.” 

“Hey, Buck,” Eddie hears himself say, faintly, because his body is currently trying to manually reboot from the blue screen Maddie just caused.

Buck asked for him. Buck could’ve asked for anybody. Any one of the 118 would’ve picked up Maddie’s call and come running, but Buck didn’t ask for that. 

He asked for Eddie.  

Eddie is not going to lie. It’s no secret that he hasn’t exactly been the most present, lately. He never, ever lets it interfere with his job, because he loves being a firefighter and he cares about the people he works with too much to not give them his everything. He trusts them implicitly to have his back out in the field, and Eddie would rather walk on hot coals in bare feet than let any of his team think he doesn’t have theirs. 

But outside of the job—when he’s not Firefighter Diaz, and all the adrenaline and focus drains out of him, and the only thing he can manage is a threadbare goodbye in the locker rooms before he’s shuffling off at the end of a shift like a goddamn zombie, limbs still moving despite the fact that his skull feels heavy and hollow—when he’s just Eddie? 

Who would ever want just Eddie? 

“Right,” he says, swiftly cutting off that train of thought at the knees. He sits up a little from where he was leaning on his elbows and points at Buck, who blinks at his finger. “We need to get you in bed.”

“I already told you,” Buck groans in a way that sounds suspiciously like Christopher, slumping down to burrow deeper underneath his blanket. It might be Maddie’s, actually, because Eddie doesn’t think Buck has ever owned a single throw blanket in his entire life. Eddie plans on rectifying that immediately. “There’s no way you guys can carry me. You’re—” 

“Too short. Trust us, Buck, we know,” Maddie cuts him off. She raises an eyebrow at Eddie, eyes narrowing pointedly. “Some of us have been told twice.” 

And yeah, okay, Eddie deserves that one. 

He’s surrounded by Buckley sass on all sides tonight, Dios help him. 

“Alright, then,” Eddie says, standing up. Thinking quick on his feet, his eyes dart around as he takes in the shape of the living room. After a moment, he gets an idea. “Here. Maddie, help me move the coffee table?” 

“Oh! Uh, sure,” Maddie’s quick to hop up and help Eddie move the table out of the way in the kitchen. The side table quickly follows that too.   

“Okay, what’s happening?” Buck asks, shuffling to sit back up as Eddie takes the stairs two at a time up to his bedroom. He calls, voice strained and craggy,“Why are we tearing apart my living room?” 

“Well, I figure if we can’t bring you to your bed,” Eddie reasons as he comes back downstairs to plop Buck’s comforter and obnoxiously big pillow that he insists helps support his neck right onto his lap. Buck stares, eyes wide and bewildered, and Eddie smiles at him, shrugging. “Then we can bring your bed to you.” 

A few minutes later—with some surprisingly efficient coordination between the two of them and a very good demonstration of geometry skills on Maddie’s part—Eddie and Maddie manage to drag Buck’s king size mattress, sheets and pillows and all, down the stairs and situate it so it’s pressed right up against the couch. Now all Buck has to do is carefully slip down and shimmy a little to get in the center of the mattress, just how he likes. 

Which he does, almost immediately. The second his head hits the pillow Buck is conked out, mouth open and snoring even before Maddie is finished making sure his cast is properly elevated with some more pillows stolen from the couch. 

“Wow,” she says, sounding genuinely impressed a few minutes later when she and Eddie settle at the kitchen island. “I think that’s the fastest he’s gone to sleep since he got home.” 

Eddie just finished turning the lights down low to let Buck sleep, and she presses a warm mug into his hands the moment he sits down. He cradles it gratefully, the sweet warmth of cider filling up his nose a pleasant surprise. There’s a specific kind that Eddie likes from a small farmer’s market that pops up by the firehouse every so often. He didn’t know Buck still had some. 

“Seriously?” he asks, surprised, and she nods around a slow sip from her own mug. 

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but Buck doesn’t exactly know how to sit still,” she says, and he can’t help the laugh he lets out, air leaving his nose in a soft huff. Maddie smiles at him. “That hasn’t changed much since he was a kid. God, he used to toss and turn for hours. Especially when he was sick.” 

“That’s a little harder to do with a full leg cast,” Eddie points out, and she hums in agreement. 

“The only way I could get him to sleep is if I let him sleep in bed with me,” she admits, gaze drifting over to where Buck is starfished out on his mattress. Her eyes are warm, if not a little sad. “Then at least he would stay still, otherwise I threatened to kick him out if he kept wiggling around. But he’d go right to sleep, curled up next to me.” 

Eddie can picture it. The two of them, small and young, huddled together beneath a blanket, Maddie’s arm curled around Buck’s shoulders, his nose pressed into her hair. Offering the delicate heat of their own bodies to create a bigger, better warmth together. 

“He always got me sick afterwards, too. But I didn’t mind,” Maddie says, smiling a little. She adds, quieter, almost to herself, “I think he always sleeps better, knowing somebody he loves is close.” 

Unbidden, Eddie thinks of all the times he’s watched Buck drop into bed in the bunkroom and not move an inch. Stretched out on his stomach in a way that is sure to give him back problems later on, sheets pulled haphazardly up around his waist, clinging to his pillow. 

He thinks about how many times he’s watched Hen pause to adjust the sheets until they were pulled up to Buck’s ears as she passed by to go to her own bunk. How many times he’s watched Bobby turn off the lamp by Buck’s head if he forgot to before he fell asleep. How many times Eddie himself has absentmindedly straightened out Buck’s boots while he unties the laces of his own, watching his friend’s back rise and fall every time he breathes. 

Not once, during any of those moments, did Buck ever stir. 

“My mom would quarantine us as kids. My sisters and I,” Eddie says. He doesn’t even mean to, but then Maddie’s turning those big, brown eyes on him, attentive and open and listening, and he just keeps going. “Five people in one house like that, no way was she dealing with three sick kids at once. Four, actually, if my dad caught it too.” 

Maddie laughs at that, and Eddie smiles at her. He tells her, “Problem was, there were only two kids' bedrooms, right? Mine, and the room my sisters shared. So whoever got sick got stuck in my room, and the other two would have to share Sophia and Adriana’s. And my mom—she treated any illness like it was the worst thing to ever happen. Even if it was just a cold, it might as well have been la plaga de la muerte. We weren’t allowed anyone near that bedroom, and whoever was stuck inside wasn’t allowed out until their temperature was back below a hundred degrees.” 

“What about eating? Like breakfast and dinner?” Maddie asks, and Eddie shrugs. 

“She’d leave a tray at the door. Food, water, meds, she’d drop it off and knock.” 

“And what about going to the bathroom?” 

“Alright, she wasn’t that crazy,” Eddie laughs, and Maddie holds up her hands in mock surrender. 

“Okay! Okay, just making sure,” she says, and watches him while he takes a slow sip from his mug for a few beats. The cider warming his belly, he almost misses it when she asks, “Did your parents really just let you deal with being sick alone like that?” 

“Not always,” he says. “My dad had this trick, to help with congestion. He’d take a washcloth, soak it in hot water, and then drape it over your face so you could breathe in the steam and alleviate some of the pressure. It worked, at least for a few minutes anyway. He didn’t do it a lot, didn’t want to get caught by my mom, I think. But I remember him sitting with me, sometimes. Just holding my hand.” 

He thinks about being six, and seven, and nine years old, alone in his bedroom, shivering ferociously while his body fought off the illness. He thinks about the relief he felt, blindly clutching at a big, calloused hand in that warm darkness where he could finally breathe again. He thinks about dreading the moment when the washcloth went cold, and his father’s touch would slip away.

“I don’t remember when he stopped doing it,” he says, and knows it’s a lie the second it’s out of his mouth. He knows exactly when. It was the same time Ramon sat him down and told him it was time for him to step up, to become a real man. “I was ten, I think.”  

“That’s—” Maddie starts, then stops, and something about her tone makes him look up. She’s already looking at him when their eyes meet. There’s no pity, in her gaze. Just heaviness, and a profound sense of understanding. 

“That sounds really lonely, Eddie,” she says gently, and Eddie thinks it should feel it like a punch to the gut. If it was anyone else saying it, he's pretty sure the gravity of that statement would have him doubling over in his seat. 

“It was,” he admits quietly, surprising himself. 

Eyes hot, Eddie blinks, suddenly finding it very difficult to continue meeting her gaze. He looks over at where Buck is sleeping, watching the steady rise and fall of his chest beneath the comforter. He finds himself trying to match his own breathing to that steady rhythm, seamless and slow. 

“The truth is I would’ve given anything to have someone stay with me, like you did for him,” he says, looking back at her, and Maddie’s whole expression crumples in on itself, her lip wobbling a little as she nods. She reaches out across the counter, palm up, fingers open. Offering her own warmth out to him. 

Eddie slides his hand into hers without a second thought, squeezing tight. She squeezes back, and the heat created between their palms makes Eddie feel steadier than he has in months. 

They stay like that for a few minutes, just holding on to one another, until Maddie’s phone chirps from the kitchen counter. Sniffing a little, she pulls back and reaches for it, not without giving his fingers one last squeeze. Eddie does her the courtesy of not pointing out the stray tear that’s running down her chin, too busy wiping at his own. 

“Shit,” Maddie says succinctly, and Eddie looks over at her in alarm. 

“What?” 

“Chimney just texted,” she says, grimacing at her phone like it just personally insulted her. “He’s asking if he should bring over breakfast tomorrow. I completely forgot to tell him I have a shift in the morning.” 

“In the morning?” he repeats, and she nods, expression turning sheepish. She looks a whole awful lot like Buck, when she’s smiling like that. He checks the time on his phone. “Maddie, you need to go home and sleep.” 

“I was going to!” She stresses, just barely catching herself from raising her voice. Her eyes dart over to where her brother is still sleeping soundly before she turns back to him, leaning in with a half stage whisper. “I was going to. But then everything with Buck came up, and I—” 

She cuts herself off with a huff, running a hand through her hair as she shakes her head. “You didn’t see him earlier when I got back. He was so sick, Eddie. His fever was so bad he couldn’t even get up to get to the medicine cabinet. I can’t just leave him here alone. What if—” 

“I’ll stay,” Eddie offers, automatically. Easily. “I can stay with him tonight.” 

“I can’t ask you to do that,” Maddie says. “What about Christopher? Don’t you need to pick him up?” 

“You’re not asking. I’m happy to do it,” he says, already waving away her concerns as gently as he can. “And tomorrow’s Saturday anyway. Pepa will be happy to hold on to Chris for a little longer. She and my tío Paco will make him migas for breakfast and ruin my chance of ever getting him to eat my omelets again.”

“Are you sure?” she asks, worrying at her bottom lip. Carefully, Eddie reaches out across the counter and holds out his hand just like she had before, palm up. She interlaces their fingers without a moment of hesitation, and he squeezes tightly. 

“I’m sure,” he promises, and after a moment she nods, squeezing back. 

Maddie leaves shortly after that. Eddie helps her gather up her purse and other things while she tiptoes around the mattress in the living room to kiss Buck’s forehead and whisper goodbye. He snuffles a little in his sleep, turning towards her voice, but otherwise doesn’t stir. 

She hugs him tight before she goes, which stuns Eddie for all of two seconds before he’s folding his arms around her, her hair tickling his chin. She makes him promise to call her if they need anything, even if it’s in the middle of the night, and then she’s gone out the door, leaving only the warmth of her embrace in her wake. 

And then it’s just Eddie, standing in the entryway of the loft, his best friend sleeping soundly behind him.

The first thing Eddie does is text Pepa that he’ll be a little later in picking up Chris in the morning. It’s late enough now that she’ll have gone to sleep at this point, but he trusts she’ll see it when she wakes up, and that’s enough for him. He also asks her to send him her migas con huevos recipe, which he’ll no doubt butcher the shit out of, but it’s something he and Chris can do over the weekend together. Maybe they can bring Buck over the leftovers, if they’re not burnt.

The second thing he does is shower. Maddie was polite enough not to say anything when they hugged, but he knows he’s more than a little ripe after coming off a twenty-four hour shift. He uses the upstairs bathroom in an attempt to keep the noise down. Buck, who’s currently snorting like a war horse in his sleep, doesn’t seem to mind. 

Rinsing off the sweat and worry of the day, he only feels a little bad about using Buck’s body wash. It’s a nice smell—sandalwood, and something that kind of reminds Eddie of orange zest and fresh oatmeal. 

Stepping out of the bathroom in a towel, it dawns on him that he doesn’t have a change of clothes. He has his street clothes that he could change back into, but he’s not exactly thrilled at the idea of sleeping in jeans tonight. 

So instead, he just digs out a pair of sleep shorts from Buck’s dresser and a T-shirt that he doesn’t think Buck will mind him wearing. It’s a little big in the shoulders—with a faded image of Bruce Springsteen’s fingers curled around the neck of his guitar plastered on the front, a silver bracelet drooping over the back of his hand—but it’ll do. 

Stopping at the bottom of the stairs, Eddie doesn’t know what to do with himself, for a moment. He can’t turn on the TV with Buck sleeping in the living room, not that there’s much of anything he’d be interested in watching at this hour. Plus, Buck doesn’t have Hulu so he can’t put on old baseball reruns on ESPN. 

He briefly considers making himself a cup of coffee, or some more of that cider, but ultimately decides against it. The day has been long, and only made longer by Maddie’s sudden call, so Eddie decides to follow Buck’s lead and crash. 

He fishes around in his gym bag until he finds his earbuds, then moseys over to the couch after turning off the lights, using the dim glow of his phone screen to lead the way. Taking up the throw blanket Buck abandoned for his comforter, Eddie gets himself situated on the couch, tucking one earbud into his ear. There’s a mystery podcast that Buck has been raving about for a while, and Eddie thinks it’ll make the perfect background noise to fall asleep to. 

Turning on his side to get comfortable while the host starts up a lulling, ominous monologue about strange weather phenomena in his ear, Eddie takes a minute to catalogue Buck’s sleeping form below him, slack jawed and snoring. His head is turned away from Eddie, so he can just make out the light stubble on Buck’s jaw. His hair is going to be a wild mess come morning, and Eddie smiles a little at the perfect little curl he can see resting against Buck’s pillow above his head. 

Because he’s unable to flip flop around like a restless pancake, Buck’s taken to fidgeting with his arms. He’s got one hand up by his head on the pillow, the other arm is stretched completely out across the mattress by Eddie’s head on the couch. His palm is up, fingers splayed out. Reaching, even in sleep.

There’s a small, white scar that curls around the bone of Buck’s wrist. A biking accident, from when he was young. He can’t see it well, but Eddie knows it’s there. He remembers watching Buck thumb at it when he told him, during a slow moment between calls at the firehouse. 

Carefully, so carefully, Eddie reaches out and traces his fingertips over that line, following it to the delicate, paper thin skin over the vein of his wrist, and then up to the life lines of Buck’s palm. Reflexively, Buck’s nerves react to the touch, his fingers curling around Eddie’s in a lax hold. Strangely, Eddie feels his face flood with heat, warmth spreading all the way to the tips of his ears. 

For some reason, he doesn’t let go. He ghosts his thumb over the warm skin of Buck’s knuckles, eyelids starting to get heavy as he keeps up the slow, hypnotic motion. 

Maybe Buck’s not the only one who sleeps better, knowing that his loved ones are close by. 

Some indeterminable amount of time later, Eddie is pulled out of his doze by the faint feeling of a warmth pulling away, leaving his fingers cold. Half awake, he reaches for it, but only finds more empty space. 

That gets him awake. Blinking open his eyes—it’s harder to orient himself with the podcast host talking about frogs raining from the sky somewhere over Serbia in his ear—it takes his sleep-addled brain a minute to understand what he’s looking at. 

Buck, who has so far been sleeping like the dead, is sitting up ramrod straight in the dark, not moving. 

“Buck?” Eddie rasps. “You okay?” 

Buck doesn’t answer, which has Eddie’s pulse spiking oddly up into his throat. He rips out the earbud and sits up, straining to turn the lamp on behind the couch so he can see what’s wrong. He twists back around to see that Buck’s eyes are open, staring off into the middle distance with his eyebrows raised, like he’s waiting for something to happen. 

Eddie’s just about to ask again when Buck’s whole face contorts, and suddenly he’s letting out the most ear piercing, earth shattering sneeze that Eddie has ever heard in his life. It has him startling like a horse at the sight of a snake—he nearly jumps half a foot in the air from the sheer power of it alone. 

And Christopher thought Eddie’s dad sneezes were bad. 

“Jesus Christ, Buck,” he gasps, unpeeling himself from the back of the couch, one hand clutched over his chest to calm his racing heart. He laughs, a little strangled by the unnecessary adrenaline. “You couldn’t warn a guy first?”  

“S’rry,” Buck slurs out, so muffled by his hands that Eddie can barely hear him. “My bad.”

“Hey.” Eddie moves forward immediately, setting a hand on Buck’s shoulder when he leans forward, hand cupped around his face. “Hey, you okay?”

“Need a tissue,” Buck kind of gurgles, pulling his hands back a little and oh, yep. Yes he does. Eddie quickly throws off his blanket and hops up, hurrying over with the box off the coffee table and plopping it into Buck’s lap. 

“How are you feeling?” he asks after nearly half the tissue box has been demolished, the evidence filling up the bathroom garbage can that Eddie quickly grabbed once the post-snot eruption nose blowing tornado started.

“Guh,” Buck replies eloquently, flopping back down onto his pillow. He lifts his head back up a little after a moment, looking muzzy but more alert. “What time is it?” 

Eddie gives a cursory glance at his phone. “It’s half past eleven.”  

Buck groans, flopping back down with more conviction. “Where’d Maddie go?” 

“She went back home to sleep before her shift tomorrow morning.” Eddie perches on the arm of the couch to look down at Buck, crossing one arm over the other. “You’re stuck with me for the night.” 

“Oh,” is all Buck says to that for a beat. “You don’t–you don’t have to do that. Isn’t it your day off with Chris tomorrow?” 

“Chris is with Pepa,” Eddie says, pointedly ignoring the way the genuine care in Buck’s voice makes his stomach do a complicated somersault maneuver. “And I do have to, actually. I’m under strict orders to keep an eye on you, otherwise your sister will skin me. Probably turn me into a rug or something.”

Buck is quiet for a long moment, absorbing this. Eddie watches him worry at his lip, a little chapped from being sick and dehydrated. He thinks that Buck and Maddie’s habits are practically interchangeable, at this point. 

“She wouldn’t make you into a rug,” Buck says eventually, expression surprisingly serious when he looks up at Eddie again. 

“Oh no?” Eddie quirks an eyebrow. “What would she make me into, then?”  

“She’d make you into something useful, like a blanket or–or a petticoat,” he says, then honest to god giggles at his own joke. “An Eddie-coat.” 

“A what?” 

“An Eddie-coat,” Buck reiterates, a slow, pleased smile spreading across his face like butter. “She’d make you into an Eddie-coat.” 

There’s a moment where neither of them says anything. Eddie stares at him, and Buck immediately breaks first, devolves into nasally, semi-delirious laughter. 

Valiantly fighting off a smile on his own face, Eddie rolls his eyes skyward. “Proud of yourself for that one, huh?” 

“You are too. Don’t act like you aren’t,” Buck beams up at him. “You think I’m hilarious.” 

Eddie purses his lips, cheeks warming, unable to fight back the smile this time, and Buck starts laughing all over again. He gets a little wheezy at the end, and Eddie winces when it turns into a wet, ugly sounding cough. 

“Alright, funny guy,” Eddie says, pushing off his perch. “Where’s that thermometer? We’re checking to see how cooked your brains are.” 

“Kitchen drawer. And my brains aren’t cooked,” Buck protests, propping himself up on his elbows as he watches Eddie root around his kitchen drawers. “Just, like–lightly sautéed, I think.” 

“Uh huh.” Eddie comes back over, brandishing the thermometer above his head triumphantly. “I’ll be the judge of that. C’mere.” 

It’s easy to drop down onto the mattress and scooch close, careful not to jostle Buck’s cast too much. They’re practically pressed hip to hip, Buck’s shoulder fitting snugly into the crook of Eddie’s collarbone while they both peer down at the little device in Eddie’s hand. He’s hyper aware of Buck’s breathing when the thermometer beeps, declaring that it’s ready for use. 

“Here,” he murmurs, pulling back a little. He misses the contact almost immediately, but then something—happens. 

Buck looks up at him through his long, honey colored lashes, and he’s opening his mouth to let Eddie check his temperature, and Eddie physically feels it when his heart trips over itself and falls flat on its face. 

And just what the fuck is that all about? 

Vaguely feeling like he’s been plunged under water, Eddie tucks the thermometer under Buck’s tongue, who lets him do it without complaint. They wait the few minutes it takes for the thermometer to beep like that, just watching each other.

“What’s the diagnosis, doc?” Buck asks after the thermometer beeps and breaks the silence. “Am I gonna make it?” 

Eddie squints at the number on the tiny screen. “No cooked brains,” he confirms. “Still a little warm, but that’ll go down with some more meds and sleep.”

“Oh thank god,” Buck sighs, sagging against Eddie’s side, head dropping down to rest on his shoulder. He can feel Buck’s smile through the thin shirt sleeve. “I don’t know what I’d do with cooked brains and a broken leg.” 

Barely breathing, he slides his palm up and down the length of Buck’s spine, turning his head to hide his smile in his friend’s hair. “Somehow, I think you’d manage.” 

Eddie feels a little bit like he’s getting away with something, here. 

They don’t do this. Sure, the occasional slap on the back or shoulder squeeze is fine. Normal. Sometimes Buck’s knee will brush Eddie’s in the engine and Eddie won’t pull away. But none of that leaves Eddie’s mouth dry, or like he’s suddenly too big for his skin, or like he weirdly doesn’t know what to do with his hands. 

“How are you feeling?” Eddie asks for what feels like the thousandth time tonight, keeping up that steady movement of his hand up and down Buck’s back.

Buck sniffs dejectedly, shrugging, and Eddie dutifully hands him another tissue from the box. 

“What can I do?” he asks, pulling back a little to give Buck some space while he blows his nose.

“Unless you can get me some new sinuses, not much.” Buck tosses the tissue in the trash can, his nose already turning a shade of red that let’s Eddie know it probably hurts like a bitch to blow. “Feels like my whole head is a cork in a champagne bottle.” 

Eddie hums, chewing on the inside of his cheek for a moment. His thoughts drift back to the earlier conversation in the kitchen with Maddie, how easy it had been to share those memories with her, as painful as they are. 

Then he remembers Maddie’s hand squeezing his, the earnest understanding on her face as she met his eye, and he thinks that maybe that pain can be useful for something after all. 

“Can we try something?” he asks. 

“Uh.” Buck pauses, tissue half raised to his nose. “Sure?” 

“Great,” Eddie says, patting him on the back before standing up. “Take off your shirt.” 

“What?” Buck startles, staring after Eddie with wide eyes as he pads around the stairs and into the bathroom. His hands press instinctively to the grey zip up he’s wearing. “Wh–what do you mean take off my shirt?”  

“I mean, I’m going to put a wet washcloth on your face, and I don’t want your shirt to get soaked,” Eddie explains, coming back around to lean on the railing of the stairs. “Where are your washcloths, by the way?” 

“In the upstairs bathroom, second drawer down.” 

When Eddie comes back down, washcloth in hand, Buck hasn’t taken off his shirt. In fact, he’s pulling the sleeves of the zip up further down his hands. His mouth is pulled into a tight, small frown. 

“Buck?” Eddie pauses. “You okay?” 

“What is it supposed to do?” Buck asks, and if Eddie didn’t know any better, he’d say it sounds a little bit like he’s stalling. “The washcloth, I mean. How–how does it work?” 

“Oh,” Eddie blinks. “I was gonna soak it in hot water and then kind of drape it over your face. The steam is supposed to help with the pressure, I think. So your congestion will clear up and you can breathe better.” 

Buck is quiet for a long moment, nodding as he takes this in. He won’t look at Eddie, picking anxiously at a stray thread on his sleeve, teeth caught on his lower lip. 

“Hey.” Eddie comes to sit down at the edge of the mattress, ducking his head so he can meet his friend’s downcast gaze. “What’s going on?” 

“It’s not pretty,” Buck blurts out. He looks up, his voice pinched with distress. “The road rash, it—it’s pretty much healed up but it’s not gone yet, and I don’t—” he cuts himself off with a sharp intake of breath. He shrugs mutely, staring down at his hands.  

After a moment, Eddie sets a hand on Buck’s shoulder, thumb finding the crook of his collarbone like a magnet clicking into place. Naturally, easily. 

“I’m a paramedic, Buck,” he says, “I’ve seen way worse than a little road rash.” He smiles gently when Buck huffs, shoulder jumping under Eddie’s palm. “And I can take my shirt off too, if it helps,” he offers, teasing, and that’s enough to make Buck crack a smile. It’s small, but it’s real. 

“That’s okay,” he says, cheeks going a little pink, and Eddie’s really going to have to schedule a visit with his cardiologist, if his heart keeps flopping around in his chest like that. “You can keep your—wait. Is that my Bruce Springsteen shirt?” 

“Uhm.” And now it’s Eddie’s turn to feel uncomfortably hot, apparently. He hopes he’s not catching Buck’s cold already. He pulls back, nodding. “Yeah, I didn’t have any clothes to change into after work, so I borrowed one. If that’s okay.” 

“No, no—um,” Buck waves a hand awkwardly, face turning beet red as he gestures at Eddie’s person. “You’re good. It—yeah, it looks good. On you. You’re good.” 

“Thank you.” Now that they’ve both successfully embarrassed the hell out of themselves, Eddie motions with the hand holding the washcloth towards the bathroom. “I’m gonna—go get this wet.”

“Yep,” Buck says, nodding like a bobblehead. “Yeah, go right ahead.” 

“Great,” Eddie says, then all but flees to the bathroom. 

A few deep breaths and a pointed glare at his reflection in the mirror to fucking get it together, Diaz , later, Eddie leaves the washcloth in the sink with the hot water running, letting it soak while he comes back out to help Buck to stand up, careful not to let him twist or bump his cast in an awkward way while he gets his footing, leaning heavily on Eddie’s shoulder. 

He carefully does not react when Buck’s shirt comes off. Just stands steady while Buck shrugs out of his zip up, then keeps a firm hold of Buck’s back, acting as a dutiful crutch while his friend slowly works the black T-shirt off one sleeve at a time, and then pulls it up and over his head. 

There’s a violent roadmap of healing scrapes that starts on the pale skin of Buck’s hip and glides all the way up his torso, just stopping shy of the curve of his armpit before continuing on the soft, vulnerable underside of his arm all the way up to his elbow. If he wanted to, Eddie could trace the exact line of where Buck's body dragged when the truck skidded on its side. 

“Maddie cried, the first time she saw it.” Eddie drags his eyes up to see Buck already watching him. He smiles, sad. “She tried to hide it, but I—I think I scared her pretty good.”  

“She’s your big sister, Buck. She’s always going to worry about you,” Eddie says, carefully helping Buck slide his good arm around his shoulders, hand wrapping around Buck’s wrist, the other securely on Buck’s hip, careful not to press his fingers into any bruises. 

“And you don’t scare me,” he adds, softer, and Buck looks over at him, something so painfully earnest and open in his expression that Eddie wants to fold himself around his friend like a protective layer and shield him from all the awful in the world. 

Maybe Buck was onto something, earlier. Because from where he’s sitting, being made into an Eddie-coat doesn’t sound so bad right about now. 

The shuffle into the bathroom is a slow one, but with the warm line of Buck’s body pressed from hip to shoulder against him, Eddie finds he doesn’t really mind. 

After some debate, they get Buck situated on the bathroom floor with a pillow for him to sit on with Eddie sitting on the lip of the tub, Buck’s back against Eddie’s shins so he can easily tip his head back and rest against his knees. 

“You ready?” Eddie asks, unballing the washcloth carefully after wringing out the excess water in the tub behind him. It’s just a little too warm against his fingertips, steam coming off the fabric in fleeing, wispy curls. 

“Mhm,” Buck nods. He cranes his neck a little to look up at Eddie, squinting a little. “Am I supposed to do anything specific, or–?” 

“Nope,” Eddie replies, smiling down at him. “Just close your eyes and breathe. The steam will do all the work for you.”

“Okay.” Buck wiggles a little more to get comfortable. He lets his eyes slide shut, murmuring, “go ahead.” 

“Alright. Hold still.” 

Very gently, Eddie drapes the washcloth over Buck’s face, making sure that it covers his nose and eyes, smoothing out the edges on Buck’s forehead, just against his hairline. He makes sure it doesn’t sit too heavily over his mouth, just in case Buck starts feeling claustrophobic. 

A few stray water droplets immediately race over the curve of Buck’s chin and down his neck, pooling in the hollow of his throat. Eddie chases after one that slips down his cheek, stopping it from rolling into his ear with a soft swipe of his thumb. 

“How’s that feel?” he asks after a moment. 

Buck shifts, voice a little muffled. “It’s okay.”  

“Okay?” Eddie echoes. “Not too hot, or anything like that?”   

“Mm-mm, it’s good.” Buck takes a deep breath, then lets it go slowly, steam billowing off the fabric like a sleeping dragon lay beneath. After a second, he asks, “Can you shift forward a little? My neck kind of hurts.”

“Sure, here.” Carefully, he cradles Buck’s head in his hands and shifts his legs forward more, so Buck can lean back fully against his shins. Eddie gently starts massaging Buck’s temple with his thumbs, using slow, sweeping motions against the pressure he knows is built up there. “That better?”

“Yeah,” Buck sighs, melting into it. “Yeah, that’s perfect. Thank you.” 

They stay like that for a beat, Eddie keeping up his ministrations before Buck’s curiosity is piqued enough for him to ask. “Where’d you even learn this from?” 

“Old Diaz family trick,” Eddie tells him, mouth quirking. “Waterboard your children while they’re ill so they can’t fight back.” 

That earns him a proper laugh, genuine and surprised and endearingly nasal, and the sound is so sweet that it warms Eddie straight through. 

After a few minutes of quiet, Buck sniffs, sounding clearer than he has all night. He takes another deep breath, much easier this time. “Oh, wow,” he says. “It really does work.” 

“See? What’d I tell you?” Eddie smiles, pleased. “You gotta trust me on these things, Buck.” 

Buck curls his arm around Eddie’s leg, fingers warm against the skin of his shin. Not squeezing, just holding on, thumb mirroring the sweeping motion of Eddie’s against Buck’s temple. It’s the same spot, Eddie registers distantly, where Buck’s surgery scar is hidden beneath his cast. 

“It’s you, Eds,” Buck murmurs. “I always trust you.” 

Eddie is suddenly so thankful that Buck cannot see his face, because it feels a little bit like he just got kicked in the chest by a mule. 

If he had been standing up, the force of it would have him bowing over. Instead he just sits there, staring down at his friend’s covered face with equal parts amazement and terror, and that’s when it hits him. 

He’s afraid of it—this implicit trust that Buck is so willingly giving him. Eddie is terrified of it, and the force of it startles him, but he doesn’t shy away. In fact, he welcomes it, feeling almost dizzy with relief. Because for the first time in his life, Eddie is wanted not for what he can give, or what role he can fill, or how well he can provide. 

Buck asked for Eddie because he is exactly that—just Eddie. 

The truth is ever since Shannon passed Eddie has had a hard time with feeling—not needed, but. Something close to it. A word like wanted feels like too much, too selfish. Useful, maybe. 

He couldn’t stop her from getting hit by that car that day, couldn’t even ease her pain, because by the time he got there there was no more pain for her to feel. The best he could do was twine their fingers together, clutching helplessly in a desperate attempt to give her his warmth, even as she grew colder by the minute, and stand there and listen to her tell him how much she wanted to stay, even as she was in the middle of leaving. 

Eddie couldn’t stop the ladder truck from blowing up, either. He could only stand there and watch as Buck came to, blood gushing down his face with grime caught in his fluttering eyelashes. He’d never felt more helpless than when he watched his best friend realize he was crushed under nearly fourteen tons of lifesaving equipment and metal, while Bobby talked down the bomber not even ten feet away. 

He couldn’t stop Buck from needing surgery, or the fever and illness that followed. But Eddie can be here, in the aftermath. He can fetch tissues for his friend’s poor nose, and drag Buck’s bigass mattress down the stairs so he can sleep more comfortably, and he can use the tricks from the rare moments he received his father’s warmth in childhood and make that old, familiar achy pain into something useful, something good. 

Eddie can be good. 

Maybe he always has been. 

Buck certainly seems to think so. Maddie, too. So maybe it’s time Eddie starts believing it himself, if only a little. 

The washcloth has cooled some, in the time it took Eddie to work himself into and back out of his miniature panic spiral, the steam no longer fleeing the fabric as rapidly as before. Eddie decides to relieve Buck of its weight before it can get too uncomfortable. 

“Buck,” Eddie says softly. “I’m going to take off the washcloth now, okay?” 

Buck doesn’t answer, the slow, even rise and fall of his chest telling Eddie that he’s probably dozing under there. Even dragons need their beauty sleep. At least he’s not snoring yet. 

“Buck?” he asks, a little louder. “You with me?” 

Buck’s answer is an incomprehensible, sleepy mumble. Eddie huffs a laugh through his nose, taking that as permission, and gently peels back the lukewarm washcloth from his friend’s face. He leans over and hands it up on the tub spout to dry before taking Buck’s head back up in both his hands, gently scratching at his scalp in apology for jostling him. 

Buck’s head is a heavy weight in his hands, and Eddie takes a few seconds to just take him in. His cheeks are still flush, more from the heat of the steam than the fever, now. Droplets of water have beaded on the sloping bridge of his nose and across the delicate skin below his eyes. It reminds Eddie of the constellations in Christopher’s favorite astronomy book as a kid—the one with holes punched in the pages that you can shine a light through and project them onto the ceiling. 

The proximity to the steam has made the edges of Buck's hair curlier than it already was, and Eddie's heart gets all sorts of warm behind his ribs because it reminds him so much of Chris's hair, too. He cards his fingers through it, and Buck hums, a warm, happy sound, and Eddie wants to be the one responsible for Buck making that noise for the rest of his life. 

He’s not really thinking when he leans down and presses his lips to the unscathed skin on Buck’s temple, checking his temperature the same way he’s done a thousand times with his son whenever he’s sick. Buck’s skin is warm and damp, but no unnatural heat is rising off him. It’s safe to say his fever’s finally broken. Feeling triumphant, Eddie presses a satisfied, lingering kiss to Buck’s hairline, smiling a little to himself. 

“Eddie?” Buck whispers. 

Oh, is the first thought Eddie has as he freezes in place, lips still brushing against Buck’s skin. 

The second, much more important thought he has is, oh no. 

Eddie’s breath stalls out in his lungs. He pulls back, eyes wide, and finds Buck staring right back.

“Hi,” Buck breathes. Up this close, he can see the starburst pattern in the blue of Buck’s irises around his pupil. It almost reminds Eddie of a nebula, or a flower. Light and life, blooming out. Reaching, reaching, reaching. 

Eddie opens his mouth, but his voice is being strangled somewhere beyond his back molars. He shuts it, swallowing. He whispers back, “Hey, Buck.” 

“Sorry I fell asleep on you,” Buck says, and it’s so not what Eddie was expecting that it bursts the bubble of anxiety that was forming inside his lungs, and all the air it was holding back leaves in a rush of relief. 

“That’s okay,” Eddie replies. He thinks he’s going to let Buck fall asleep on him whenever he wants for the rest of his life, forever. “I don’t mind being a pillow.” 

“Um,” Buck blinks a few times, Adam’s apple bobbing. When he finds his voice again, it’s low, a little grainy from his illness. It makes Eddie’s stomach flutter. “Did—did you kiss me, just now?”

Tongue like a balloon in his mouth, Eddie nods. “I was checking your temperature,” he explains, like that excuses anything at all. “Dad habit. I’m sorry.” 

“Don’t be,” Buck says quickly. His eyes dark down to Eddie’s lips, then back up, lightning quick. He asks, voice soft and small, “Can you check it again?” 

Eddie feels his eyes go as wide as dinner plates. “You want me to?” 

“Yes,” Buck says, nodding frantically. “Yes I want you to.”  

So Eddie does. He checks Buck’s temperature above his left eyebrow, then his right, the bridge of his nose and each eye, both cheeks and even the divot of his chin. He kisses all of those little drops of starlight right off of Buck’s skin, savoring their taste, amazed that he’s even allowed to at all. Even more amazed when Buck chases after him and their nose knock, and then Eddie kisses it again in apology. 

They’re both smiling when he pulls back, giggling like children. Eddie doesn’t think he’s ever going to get over how brilliant Buck’s smile is, bright and pleased and perfect. He’s pretty sure his own smile makes him look like an idiot. 

“You ready to get off this bathroom floor?” Eddie asks, failing to beat back the giddiness trying to escape his every pore. 

“Actually,” Buck says around a yawn, arching his back in a stretch before turning his nose to nudge against Eddie’s bare knee, eyes sliding shut. “I think I’m good right here.” 

Eddie’s smile only gets bigger. “You don’t want to wait until you’re back in bed?” 

“Can’t hear you. Too busy sleeping.” 

“Oh really?” Eddie muses. “After all that trouble Maddie and I went through to drag that mattress down those stairs?” 

That makes Buck open his eyes again, and then Eddie watches as his best friend’s expression sort of just—melts, lip wobbling for half a second before he catches it, swallowing hard. 

Eddie’s smile starts to slip. “What?” 

It takes Buck a few seconds to find his voice. When he finally does, his expression is so painfully sincere that it looks like it hurts. 

“You made me a couch-bed,” he says simply, staring up at Eddie in such awe that Eddie can’t help it. He laughs, soft and relieved, and feeling infinitely lighter than he has in months. Before Buck can get the wrong idea, he leans down and presses another kiss right against the strawberry pink of Buck’s birthmark. 

“It’s you, Buck,” he says, shrugging, a fond smile growing on his face as he stares down into those big, earnest baby blues. “It’s always you.”

That seems to do it for Buck, because the next thing Eddie knows he’s being pulled down and Buck is surging up and crushing their mouths together in a kiss. The angle is awkward, and their noses bump together hard enough that Eddie’s eyes water, but he doesn’t even care because Buck’s lips are warm against his, and everything about it is goofy and wonderful and perfect but there’s just one problem.

“Oh, no, Buck—come on,” Eddie rips himself away as soon as he remembers, leaning back and wiping at his mouth as Buck laughter fills up the tiny bathroom. He groans, “You’re going to get me sick.” 

“Sorry,” Buck says, not sounding sorry at all, the bastard. “Couldn’t wait.”  

“Yeah, I’ll bet,” Eddie shakes his head, pinching Buck’s side playfully till he twists, swatting at Eddie’s hand with a gasped out laugh. “C’mon, let’s get you in that couch-bed.” 

“Only if you be my pillow,” Buck replies, practically beaming, and who is Eddie to deny an injured man what he wants? 

Buck is out like a light the second Eddie gets him back into some warm sleep clothes, and Eddie can’t help but smile at the way his friend sighs like an overworked puppy when he finally settles down into bed, feeling all kinds of gooey and fond at the sight of him. 

In the morning they’ll talk about it. They’ll have to. But for now, Eddie is content to turn off the lights in the loft and crawl into bed beside his best friend, his partner. His boy. 

The second he settles, Buck shifts, turning his head to tuck his snotty nose against the hinge of Eddie’s jaw, and in that moment Eddie doesn’t even care if it gets him sick, so long as he can keep being the warmth that Buck reaches for in sleep.

[katyawriteswhump]

Omega Found, Omega Lost, part 1

Title: Omega found, Omega lost; Chapter: 1/5; WC: 2372 Rating: M (will be E in later parts); Tags: Steddie, Omega Steve, Alpha Eddie, angst, hurt/comfort, fluff. For whumptober 2024, day 1 prompts: race against the clock, search party, panic attack.

Summary: Newly presented Omega, Steve, gets lost in a storm while out searching for Dustin. Unclaimed and un-mated, he's vulnerable to any predatory Alpha... but he can trust Eddie Munson, right? Whump, whump, whump but also shameless fluff!

Billion x thank you to @wheneverfeasible who kindly enabled the omega-verse fun <3<3<3

Chapter 1: Race against the clock (also here on Ao3)

Steve parked up on the edge of the forest and wandered out, wondering which of the noisy search parties he should tag along with. Icy drizzle lashed his glowing cheeks. The skies churned with clouds that resembled purple-black bruises. The winter storm brewing was nearly as intense as the shitstorm over the missing pups.

"Steve?” Chief Hopper left the group he’d been bossing around and thundered over. “What the hell are you doing?"

"What does it look like?" Steve wrapped his arms tight around himself. Being yelled at by the most Alpha Alpha in the town pack was super-scary. He lifted his chin defiantly. "Dustin is my friend. I can’t stay on the bench for this."

"Don’t be a fool. Loan Alphas roam these woods at night. You know that, kid. You fall out of step, get left behind? You’re a stripling unmated Omega—you do the math.”

Yeah, yeah, yeah. Lone Alphas are animals who’d as soon spit-roast me alive as hump me. I’ve heard the scary bedtime stories so many times they genuinely make me doze off. Anyhow, they’d be freakin’ brain-dead, evolutionary full-stop Alphas to be skulking around for kicks on a night like this. 

Steve didn’t say any of that, of course. He mumbled towards his boots, “I could come with you?” 

"I can't be looking out for Hawkins’ mouthiest, most hothead Omega, when…"

Steve was never going to win. Even his trump-card reason for joining the search—the walkie-talkie he’d been trying to contact Dustin on for hours—was summarily dismissed.

“We have Lucas’s radio,” said Hopper. “He’s helping with the search.”

“Sinclair? Seriously?” Steve barely kept the whine from his voice. “He’s a pup! Look, I can take care of—"

"Omega, go home."

Steve’s breath jammed in his lungs. Hopper’s deep rumbling growl was pretty much inarguable. As was the arm Hopper slung around him to guide him back toward his car.

Steve drove off. He was so goddamn frustrated, and the worry inside him made his stomach churn as wildly as the clouds. He was nearly home before he slammed to a halt, tyres screeching and skidding.

Screw them all! He was an Omega, not a freakin’ pushover, plus there were pups in danger. Okay, not his pups, and in fact only a few years younger than him. That was total irrelevance. It was his duty as much as anybody’s to look out for them. In fact, presenting as Omega had been a goddamn relief, explaining a lot about his protective instincts toward younger kids.

Oh, and also about Eddie Munson, who’d presented as Alpha the year before Steve presented Omega. 

Simply thinking about Eddie stirred something wild in the pit of his belly. Eddie had been hitting on him, and yeah, Steve was interested. But was Eddie serious?

Eddie Munson never seemed quite serious about anything. Plus, Steve’s parents totally didn’t approve of him… and Steve had no capacity to worry about that mind-fuck tonight.

Dustin was missing. Obsessing over Eddie was making him confused and even more stressed-out, when he ought to be super-pumped to find his younger friend.

He drove back to the fringes of the forest then retrieved his walkie-talkie from the glove compartment. He wrapped himself up in woolly mittens and a scarf—newly knitted by his dad, so it was soft and springy and smelled comfortingly of home—and stomped off in the direction of Skull Rock. He’d a hunch that Dustin was with his girlfriend, so there was a small chance they’d moseyed in that direction, and then…

…Christ, he couldn’t bear to think what might’ve happened.

Steve gritted his teeth against the biting wind. Under the twilight, the fresh snow looked magical, like sweet frosting on the naked branches. He didn’t enjoy it for long. Soon, he waded through drifts that rose to his knees, the dampness soaked through his clothes and seeped into his bones. 

Worse, he wasn’t sure where he was.

He got out his flashlight. Dammit. He figured he knew this part of the forest like the back of his hand. Everything looked crazily different in the snow.

His breath grew short, and the cold burned his chest. Crap, he was scared, but he couldn’t surrender to it. He pulled out his walkie-talkie, removed his mittens to work the thing: “Dustin? Do you copy, you little shit?”

“Steve? Yeah! I copy! Holy crap, you have literally no idea! I’m fiiine, but there was this mammouth search, and…” Fuzzy white noise interrupted Dustin’s voice. Steve caught more snatches: “Suzie… cake… hot chocolate…” 

More white noise. Then nothing. Steve dialled madly, seeking an open channel.

“Dustin? Dustin! Anybody? Do you copy? What the heck? Oh, no, no, no, no, no. Please, come back!”

His radio was dead. Totally dead.

“Shit… Shit!”

The cold stiffened his fingers, hampering his efforts to get it working again. Night shrouded the forest completely, save the occasional flash of a near full moon between the fast-moving clouds. 

Oh God. Oh God. This isn’t happening. I’ve got to get home. I’ve got to get home! 

He pulled his mittens back on, smothered his face in his sodden scarf. He could barely glean the reassuring scent. Madly waving his flashlight around didn’t help, as the snow had healed over his footfalls already. Rooting himself to the spot, his mind began seizing up.

Oh help! Oh God… I can’t… can’t! Not by myself… I can’t… I need… Oh shiiiiiit!

Eddie Munson popped into his head.

Which was kinda screwball, but he’d take it. It wasn’t exactly a vision of Eddie, more of a feeling: an idea of Eddie’s body enveloping him, which set warmth glowing beneath his chilled skin. Steve wiped his eyes, shook himself as if waking from a dream. 

Deep breaths. You can do this, Harrington.

The wind had been behind him on his way, right? Okay, so he had to fight against it to return to his car. He set off, wishing the nasty-ass air would stay still, rather than battering him with slap after slap, much like his increasingly negative thoughts: 

Oh Jesus, he was an idiot! 

He couldn’t even follow his Omega instincts correctly without screwing the hell up. Maybe it would be different if he had an Alpha who wanted to mate with him, rather than dumb teen crushes. If he had a nest of his own, to feather for his pups. Oh God! Was he gonna freeze to death, or…

Oh, shit, shit, shit!

When he was home and safe, it was easy to laugh off scare stories about rogue Alphas. Right now, all he could think of was Tommy H, cackling in his face when he’d first presented Omega:

“You are gonna fuck this up so bad, Harrington. You’re such an airhead, you’ll wind up chained in some cave, breeding machine and fuck toy, till you’re not so pretty, and then…”

SNAP!

For a fleeting heartbeat, the sound alone shocked Steve, ripping him from his fearful thoughts.

Then the searing pain in his ankle tore up his leg and spine, and all but fried his brain.

He collapsed onto his butt in the snow, dropping his flashlight. He blinked through the gloom at the snare around his outstretched left leg. He’d walked straight into an old hunters’ trap or…

Maybe this is how those lone Alphas snare their victims?

The pain gathered pace, forcing him into gasping sobs. He was so cold. So scared. No more than a husk of quivering flesh. He huddled into a ball, small as possible, apart from his trapped and bleeding leg. It felt like every nerve and tendon was being ripped and chewed, over and over, by razor-sharp teeth, while cold gnawed hungrily through the rest of him.

When he tried to think, panic throttled him afresh. All he could do was feel, and all he felt was the all-consuming scorching of the fire and the ice, and… something else… another unendurable agony… a desperate yearning:

Please, Eddie… Alpha… Help me?

…

A strange gut feeling propelled Eddie to go open the door of the trailer. 

Fuck, it was cold! He stepped out, closed the door behind him, and squinted into the darkness. 

To be fair, Eddie liked the snow, and he never felt the cold or the heat too bad. Something about growing up in the trailer, he guessed—ball-shrivelling frigid in the winter, and sweatier in the summer than the contents of his snuggest leather pants.

Then Eddie smelt it, striking through the icy air like lightning. 

Fear. Blood! An Omega in trouble? Yes. And not just any Omega. This was the Omega he’d been crazy about for months. Okay, yeah, Steve had been playing kinda macho, hard to get. On the other hand, Eddie perceived that, deep down, Steve was plain scared of him, and he wasn’t sure how to make that right.

He nearly fled straight into the forest. Then he checked himself and went back inside to throw on a warm jacket and grab a flashlight. Steve was in trouble, crying and vulnerable. Eddie had to find him before some meathead Alpha—or lowlife Beta—got their filthy claws into him.

“Hold on, Baby. I’m a comin’.”

The journey passed in a blur. He muscled his way through the snow like he was the goddamn Hulk, not a rookie Alpha of barely a year, with a slender-for-an-Alpha frame. Before long, the scent that drew him grew overwhelming. Steve’s for sure. Blood, tears and naked fear dampened his usual delicious musk, which was like bananas and cream mingled with something even more potent and “grabby-handy.” 

Yup, Steve usually smelt as addictive as the finest weed he’d ever supped.

Eddie now stood dead still. The hairs on the back of his neck bristled, while he swept his flashlight beam across the snow, and then, “Steve!”

Eddie flung himself forward to where Steve was huddled. The white stuff smothered Steve so completely that, without the scent, Eddie could’ve missed him. Eddie dumped his flashlight and blanketed himself around Steve, shielding him from the storm. Steve tensed, whimpered, and struggled slightly, almost elbowing Eddie off. Eddie braced him tighter, rubbed soothing circles on his back.

“Sssssh, it’s okay, Baby. It’s me. It’s Eddie. I gotcha, I gotcha.”

It pained Eddie to unwind himself even as far as he needed to examine the terrified Omega.

“H-hurts,” whispered Steve, curling into Eddie, burrowing his face into Eddie’s chest. Eddie carefully roamed his hands down Steve’s body, checking for injuries.

His gaze alighted on the dark stains in the snow around Steve’s ankle.

And the metal hunter’s snare, lying by Steve’s leg and half-lost in a drift.

Steve’s hands were bare and bleeding too. Obviously, he’d somehow pried the thing off. Eddie’s blood boiled, while a terrible collapsing sensation in his chest seemed to tell him he’d failed already. 

“P-please don’t eat me,” Steve murmured. “Please help me.”

“Stevie?” He touched his knuckles to Steve’s pale cheek, captured a gaze fogged with pain and fear. “Look at me! Hey? Not gonna hurt you. Jesus, you know that, right?”

Steve kinda nodded, comprehension glinting, then his face crumpled completely, and he started to weakly cry. Eddie folded him against his chest, trying not to move his injured leg then gently tucked Steve’s injured hands under the folds of his jacket.

He must stop any bleeding, and get Steve out of here before he froze to death. The wind whooped ever harder through the trees, the snow battered them in horizontal gusts, and worse, Eddie was rattled, too.

Eddie Munson had never been a hero. 

Right outta the gate, this lousy, hierarchical world had conditioned him to be an outcast, a reject. A nothing. On the other hand, presenting as an Alpha had made some sense to him. After all, each time the world dealt him a crappy card, which was pretty much every day, he’d always been able to flip the bird and cackle like a maniac in its force-conformity face.

Right now, though, he was bordering on losing his shit. And Alphas weren’t supposed to do that, right?

Focus, Munson. First, you need to calm and comfort him.

He gathered Steve closer, so the Omega was huddled halfway into his lap, his head tucked on Eddie’s shoulder. Then Eddie dipped to rub his face in the curve of Steve’s neck—yup, right on that tantalizingly unbroken mating gland—dousing him in his scent. All the while, he shushed and soothed him, till Steve’s whimpers disintegrated into soft sighs.

Then he kept on gently rocking and cuddling him.

Steve’s breaths beat against Eddie's throat, and he sensed the too-fast patter of the Omega's heart. Boy, Steve aced at presenting tough. Right now, stripped bare, Eddie saw only how goddamn fragile he truly was.

“Thank you, Alpha,” murmured Steve, startling Eddie, “D-doesn’t hurt so much. Not c-cold anymore. Can’t feel my leg.”

Okay, that was a touch disturbing.

Once again, Eddie forced himself to focus. Which was harder than ever. This was the first time any Omega had called him Alpha, let alone one he was dippy about. If things were different, he’d have been howling ecstatically toward the next glimpse of the moon. Oh, and revelling in Steve’s ethereal prettiness, the shadow of those long lashes across his porcelain cheek, and the faintest vibration of the Omega’s purrs.

There was also the problematic fact that his knee-jerk notion of ‘comfort’ had been to douse Steve in his scent.

Good call, Munson. Douse first. Think later. When your dick’s gonna do most of the thinking for you.

Nope. This wasn’t a good time for his inner Alpha to dump him with a boner: “Okay, Baby, I’m gonna bind up your ankle, and then I’m gonna get you home.”

“Too tired. Want to sleep here. St-stay here with you.”

Yeah. Then we both die, Sweetheart.

Eddie pressed his lips to Steve’s temple. He thumbed Steve’s damp hair from those huge, befuddled eyes, and let his more protective Alpha instincts lead him:

“You gotta stay awake, Omega,” he growled. “Your Alpha is gonna take care of you, but you gotta come with me and do exactly what I say.”

Chapter 2 on tumblr Chapter 2 on AO3

...

If anybody fancies reading more chapters, which will be posted at intervals throughout the month, I would be happy to tag :) Or follow #katya's omega whump

My endless outpourings of Steve whump can be found on AO3 here :)

[silentglassbreak]

Well guys, you let me write your delulu fan fantasies, and it was an absolute blast. I had the best time with it, and hope to open myself to doing that again someday. Thank you all for letting me bring some semblance of your fantasies to life. It means the world to me!

Now…I think it’s only fair that I write mine.

Rating: Mature

Warnings: None.

Breathe

The last three days had been a blur. They’d been exciting, exhilarating, and unbelievably fun…but they were so exhausting.

Flying all the way out to Grand Rapids…amid a cyber defect, no less…delayed flight, no one can take cards, two days at a rock music festival…I was beat.

Nicole and I had been planning this trip for months, and it felt like regardless of how many things we did right, we were fighting against some unseen force against us. Everything we tried to do was halted at each turn, and it had become rather annoying.

Despite all of the mishaps, we had persevered, determined to enjoy ourselves against any and all odds. We got to listen to great music, meet some bands, and ate the most disgusting food the festival had to offer.

It was a dream.

By the drive back to the hotel after day two of Upheaval, we were sitting in near-silence, the radio humming low in the vehicle.

"Babes?" I looked over to Nicole. "We need to eat."

I groaned in response, sinking further into my seat. "Sounds dumb. I want to sleep."

She chuckled. "Same, but if we don't eat, we're going to feel like shit tomorrow."

"Ugh," I rolled my eyes toward the pitch darkness outside the window of the rental. "you're right."

She smirked. "As always."

I sucked my teeth. "Can we at least shower first?"

Back at the hotel, we each took our time scrubbing the day off of us, erasing the sweat and makeup left from the weekend. I slipped into my heavy sweats and black crop-top, beads of water still falling from my long, dark hair. Nicole was rubbing moisturizer into her skin, standing in front of the bathroom mirror as I ran my fingers bluntly through my hair.

"I don't want to eat Taco Bell again." Her voice was pleading, and I snickered.

"Same, dude. But what else is open?"

She picked up her phone, opening Google Maps, and scrolling through.

"IHOP?"

I sighed. "It was so bad when we ate there on Thursday..."

She nodded, pursing her lips. "I know, dude. Let me keep looking." Her fingers swiped the screen. "That Denny's looked fucking scary."

I laughed, walking out of the bathroom and grabbed my wallet from my purse, stuffing it in my pocket.

"Oooh!" She stepped into the room, a smile on her face. "There's a TGIFridays open! Only for like, another hour? But if we eat fast, we can make it."

The restaurant was desolate, only one other large SUV in the parking lot. Before opening my door, I slipped my phone from my pocket and checked the screen.

No notifications.

"Have you heard from him?"

I just shook my head, re-locking the phone, and putting it in my pocket. Her look was sympathetic.

"He's an idiot. Don't even worry about it, babe." She put a hand on my arm. "That's a 'tomorrow you' problem."

I nodded, giving her a small smile. "I know. Thanks, Nic."

We walked into the restaurant, eyes glancing around and seeing only one table in the corner filled with no less than five men laughing and eating. Craning my neck around, I searched for the server.

"You think they'll even seat us this late?"

Nicole shrugged, eyes trained on the table with the patrons. "Don't know."

She was distracted, so I stepped forward toward the host stand, looking around toward the bar.

"October..." Her voice was small, just above a whisper.

I didn't look back at her, my empty stomach motivating me to keep checking for the employee. "Hmm?"

A hand gripped my wrist, which made my head snap back to her. "I need you to, discreetly, look over at the table of guys in the corner."

I furrowed my brows, looking her directly in the eyes. "What? Why?"

Her face was stern. "Just do it, but don't be obvious."

Exhaling a breath, I continued searching around the restaurant, letting my eyes fall on the table for only a split second longer than anywhere else.

I counted six men, all black t-shirts and hoodies. Three of them wearing black baseball caps. Half of them were sitting with their backs turned to me, but my eyes caught one of them facing our direction, hands air-drumming feverishly in front of him.

He looked so...familiar?

I stole another glance, and my eyes widened.

"Is that...?"

"Nick Folio." Her voice whispered to me.

I averted my eyes to the floor, hand rising to cover my mouth. "Oh my God."

"If he's here, that means it's them."

I couldn't process that.

Bad Omens was my favorite band. Nearly the entire reason I had flown sixteen hundred miles to a state I had never been. I ground my teeth together, shutting my eyes.

"No fucking way, dude. We just saw them at the festival." I let my eyes look up at her, and she smirked.

"Well, clearly, they're hungry."

"Mkay, well I'll be out in the car if you need me." My legs started for the door, but an arm hooked mine, swinging me back to my spot in front of her.

"Oh, no no no. You're not leaving."

My eyes blew wide at her. "I can't fucking be here while they are! They're my fucking heroes, Nic!"

She nodded. "Uh, fucking same! But when will we ever get an opportunity to be this close again?"

I rolled my eyes. "We're not at a zoo, Nicole. They're just guys."

I didn't even believe the words I was saying.

"Yeah?" She crossed her arms, and raised an eyebrow. "Then why leave?"

My face deadpanned, my lip pouting. "Cause I'm going to throw up."

She chuckled at this, eyes darting back to the guys, completely oblivious to our turmoil unfolding fifty feet away.

"We should talk to them."

My heart fell straight to my gut. "I beg your finest pardon?"

She shrugged, considering me. "Why not? What's the worst that could happen?"

"Uh, we interrupt their meal and I die of a stroke?"

This time, she rolled her eyes. "If you don't go say hello, I'm going to do it."

My brain short circuited. We couldn't have that. Who knew what Nicole's unhinged mouth would say to them...

"Can't I just eat and go? Pretend I didn't even see them?"

"And you'll never forgive yourself. You can't be this close to Noah Sebastian, and not tell him how much his music means to you."

I chewed on my lower lip.

"C'mon, babe. It'll be fine, and I'll be there with you!"

I steadied myself, wiping my hands on my pants. "Okay. Okay, I will."

I turned, looking directly at the table. The server had finally emerged, a tray full of plates in his hand. I waited as he set them all down, and he finally approached us.

"Sorry about that wait, guys. Just two?"

Nicole nodded, given I was nearly catatonic. The short, blonde man led us to a booth, only two away from the table I was dreading. He handed us menus, and took our drink orders.

"Before or after food?" Nicole asked as she scanned her menu.

"Can't you just do it?" I grimaced. "Without being a weirdo?"

She didn't even bother looking up at me. "Nope. Weird is built into my soul, sorry."

I sighed hard. "Before, then. If I eat, I will vomit all over them."

She folded her menu, and stood from the booth. "Let's go, then."

I closed my eyes, and took her outstretched hand, standing. Taking a quick second to right my hoodie - my Bad Omens hoodie - tied around my waist, I took in a hard breath.

"Alright." I squeaked out.

She led me carefully the few paces over to the table, moving behind me. I walked about four feet from them, likely looking pale as a ghost. I caught Folio's attention first, smiling awkwardly and giving a short wave.

"Hey! Can we help you guys?" His voice was upbeat and sweet as candy. Exactly how I expected.

"Hi." I cleared my throat, taking a careful step forward. My hands kneaded each other, and Nicole held a steady hand on my low back. "I'm s-so sorry to interrupt."

All heads had turned to me, and I didn't have the nerve to look to my left, where I knew Noah was sat.

"No worries!" Folio was smiling widely at me. "Are you guys fans?"

I nodded, looking down at my feet. "We are. We just saw you guys perform tonight, and I wanted to just-" My voice cut off abruptly, a catch in my throat. I swallowed hard. "We wanted to tell you how amazing you all were."

My eyes bounced to the other two men facing me. Nick Ruffilo and Matt Dierkes. They were both grinning.

"Thank you, that means a lot." Nick's voice was tired, but his smile was genuine.

Folio stood from his seat, pushing a hand out to me. "I'm Nick."

I took it with shaky fingers, feeling his grip mine tightly. "Folio, right."

He nodded. "And you are?"

Wow, I forgot my name. Smooth.

It took me a moment, but with a more certain voice, I was able to respond. "October." I let go of his hand to move to the side. "This is Nicole."

He shook her hand as well.

She smiled a toothy grin at him. "We flew from Las Vegas to see you guys."

Folio smiled wider. "Really? Wow! That's so fucking cool!"

Trying not to combust, I dared a glance slightly to the left, seeing Jolly and Bryan, who were both chewing food.

"I would introduce the rest of these guys, but I'm sure you already know who they are." Folio chuckled, and we both nodded.

"Yeah, we're familiar." I added.

"Well, that's great. Now, do you mind?"

The voice came directly from the left of me, where I had been avoiding. The tone made my blood run cold, and I felt all of my muscles tighten.

Finally, I looked over to meet his large, brown eyes. Noah looked anything but appreciative of us coming over to give our praise. In fact, he looked downright annoyed.

I couldn't process what he had said, and I stupidly asked, "Excuse me?"

He narrowed his eyes at me slightly, gesturing to the table. "Look, as much as we all appreciate it," His voice was dripping with disdain. "we're exhausted. We just want to eat so we can get out of here."

My heart had stopped beating. If I had anything in my stomach, it would have erupted out of me right then and there.

Maybe it was the jet-lag, or the fact that when I got home tomorrow, my life was actively in shambles, or maybe it was just being hungry...but I was enraged.

My hands balled into fists instinctively, trying to control my irritation, and I repainted my sweet smile.

"I'm sorry, we'll go. We just wanted to let you guys know you did great tonight. And you all are extremely talented."

He nodded, eyes now looking about as bored as they come.

"Great. Thanks." He snapped, turning his body back toward the table.

"Noah." Folio's voice was stern, and he turned back to me, an apologetic look on his face. "Don't mind him. He's cranky. You guys really aren't bothering us."

I heard the sound before I really registered what it was.

He sucked his teeth.

Oh, I see. He was a fucking child.

Now having lost all sense of nervousness, I could feel Nicole's hand tugging at my arm. "C'mon, babe."

I let myself be turned for a second, but my anger spun me back around, now facing directly toward him, which made him glance up at me like an inconvenience.

"You know," I started, sucking my own teeth in mockery. "you're not at all what I expected?"

He snickered, leaning back in his chair. "No?"

I shook my head slowly. "Nah. I expected someone with as much talent and success as you to be a decent person. Guess I was wrong."

Nicole's near silent gasp behind me was not lost, and I smirked.

"Well, sorry to disappoint, sweetheart." His voice was so nonchalant, it made my blood roar in my ears.

My hands twisted around the knot in my hoodie at my belt line, pulling it loose. I pulled it off with one hand, holding it out in front of me and let it go, leaving it to fall directly in his lap.

"Here." I caught him off guard, him looking up at me with wide eyes. "You probably want this back."

He picked it up, recognizing it was one of theirs. "Why would I want this?"

I smirked, a darkness in my eyes. "Well, you're pretty cold, Noah." I leaned down just to meet his eye level. "Might want something to warm you up before everyone realizes."

I heard a stifled snort come from the table, but I couldn't even begin to tell you who it was. Standing back up, I backed away from the table, and looked back at Folio.

"It was really nice to meet you guys. Have a safe night."

With that, I snatched Nicole's hand, and stalked away from the table, only pausing at the booth to grab my bag, before heading for the doors.

Once outside in the brisk night air, I took three large breaths, rounding the building and leaning down. My hands caught my knees, and Nicole stood in front of me.

"Holy shit!" She was nearly hysterical. "You just told off Noah Sebastian!"

Breathing hard, I fought the tears welling. It was too much all at once.

Was it that significant? No, not really. But after the year I'd been having, I couldn't handle that encounter at all.

"I want to leave. I want to go home."

"I know, babe. I'm sorry that went that way. I can't believe how much of a douche he was."

Shaking my head, I stood back up straight, wiping the moisture from my eyes. "Me either."

"Well," A voice came from behind us, and my eyes blew out, seeing him towering only a few feet away, hoodie in hand. "I don't know if I'd go as far to say douche."

My eyes squinted, jaw clicking. "I would."

He approached us slowly, holding the sweater out to me. "Take this. It's yours."

I held a hand up to him, shaking my head. "No, thanks."

He rolled his eyes. "You paid good money for this. And you made your point. Take it."

I considered him, counting my breaths. He was unmoving, so I reached out, gripping the fabric.

His foot kicked at the sidewalk, hands retreating into his sweater pockets. "Look, I'm sorry." I stood, shocked. "Folio's right. I'm just cranky. I haven't eaten all day, I'm tired. You just caught me on a bad moment."

My lips tightened, and I sighed hard. "So that makes it okay to be rude to someone who just wanted to tell you how great you were?"

His teeth chewed on the inside of his cheek. "I said I was sorry."

A hand touched my arm, and I looked back at Nicole, who gave me an amused smile. "Babe? I'm going to go back in. I'm also hungry."

I just nodded, letting her walk past the both of us.

He took two steps toward me slowly, eyes fixed on my face. "Nicole, right?" He asked, without taking his eyes off of me. She stopped short in her stride. "Pull a chair up to the table, dinner's on me tonight."

I caught the small smile on her lips before she continued her trek back into the restaurant.

"Well, you all enjoy that." And I turned, ready to get into the car, when I hand caught me by my purse. I stopped, looking back at him.

"Come eat."

Stitching my eyebrows together, I crossed my arms with my sweater between, considering him.

"Why?"

He shrugged. "Cause I was a douche."

I sat relatively silent at the table, munching slowly on the personal flatbread pizza I had ordered. It was one of the cheapest items on the menu, and I would be damned if I didn't somehow manage to slip him cash for it before we left.

Noah had loosened up substantially once he started eating. He was leaned back in his chair, flicking fries at Nick across the table, and participating in the conversations swirling around. Nicole, as she always did, melted into the group comfortably, sat next to Folio, and telling story after story of our trip and the festival.

"You guys seriously had to drive to an ATM to pay at the IHOP?" Nick asked incredulously.

"Yep. We sure did. The guy couldn't take card, and we felt bad. We could've just not come back, but that wouldn't be good karma."

I smiled at Nicole, the memory of two nights ago flooding in. An arm bumped mine, and I looked to my left to see Noah, eyes searching my face.

"You still mad at me?"

His voice was entirely different, soft as butter and warm like a fire. I smirked, leaning my elbows on the table.

"Haven't decided yet."

He nodded, sitting up so he was sat closer to me. "Yeah? Well, you shouldn't be."

Resting my chin on my hand, I gazed at him. "Why not?"

He smiled brightly. "Cause you came all this way to see me."

This made me snort, rolling my eyes. "Uh, no. I came all this way to see Bad Omens. Which I did."

"Why fly to Michigan? We were just in Vegas in April."

I nodded. "At Sick New World. I was there." He quirked an eyebrow. "Also at the show in October."

He looked confused. "So why come to Michigan?"

Shrugging my shoulders, I smiled a small grin. "Favorite band."

"We are?"

"Is that so hard to believe?"

He smiled, smug. "I mean, not really."

I laughed, leaning back from the table. I was wearing my hoodie now, having become chilly halfway through the meal.

"Bet I can guess your favorite song?"

My eyes darted to his face, amused. "Really?" He looked so sure of himself. "Go for it."

He pursed his lips and stroked his chin dramatically, like a Medium. I tried to hide my laughter.

"Just Pretend?"

Rolling my eyes, I shook my head. "You think I'm that basic?"

He chuckled. "Fair enough." He stared hard at me, trying to get a read. "Death of Peace of Mind?"

Nicole raised a hand. "That one's mine!"

Both of us glanced up at her, not realizing anyone else was listening. He turned back to me, still wracking his brain.

"Dethrone?"

I shook my head. "Nope."

"Nowhere To Go?"

"Nope, close third, though."

"Third?!"

I giggled, a blush flushing up my neck.

"Which album is it off of?"

"Nuh-uh, that's cheating."

He threw his hands up. "How is that cheating?"

I pursed my lips. "Second album."

"Limits?"

"Bingo."

He clapped his hands together in triumph. "Ha!" He pointed at me. "Knew I'd guess it."

Laughing, I pushed him with my arm. "Yeah, after you guessed half of your songs."

We both broke out in laughter, and it occurred to me that some of the other conversations had stopped. I caught Nick in the corner yawning hard, and my eyes met Nicole's. It was time.

"Well, Noah," I looked back at him. "thank you for the food. We should get going."

His lips downturned, but I was sure I was imagining it. "Oh," He looked back at the rest of the guys. "yeah, us too. Early morning."

I nodded, standing out of my chair, everyone else following suit.

As a group, we made our way out the door, pouring out onto the sidewalk. Nicole bid goodbye to the guys, and I did the same. We hugged them each separately, Noah being last.

I wasn't sure if hugging him was appropriate, given our encounter, so I just stood in front of him while everyone else headed for the cars.

"So," I let my lips turn up in a smile.

His face mimicked mine. "This was fun."

"It was. Despite how it started, it was really great meeting you, Noah."

"You too, October."

The bill in my hand was getting sweaty, so I stepped forward, pushing it toward him. His eyes looked down at my hand, and he put his hands up.

"Oh, no. Dinner was on me."

"Please take it, Noah."

He took a step back, as if what I was holding was poisonous. "Not a chance."

Scoffing, I stepped toward him, pulling my hand back. "I don't like people paying for me."

He pursed his lips. "I'm not taking money from you." I groaned, slipping the two twenties back in my pocket. "I will, however," He looked at me from under his lashes. "take your number, if that's okay?"

I froze, my mind stopping. "Oh, uh,"

He looked as though he may run in the opposite direction, eyes becoming panicked. "You don't have to. I totally get it."

"No, no. I can give it to you." His head snapped up to look at me. "I just, uh," My face fell to stare at the ground for a moment before I spoke. "I'm not really looking for..." I trailed off.

"Oh! No! I just had a lot of fun talking to you. Figured we could keep talking? Like, friends?" His smile was nervous, and it warmed me.

"Okay."

"He asked for your number?!" Nicole nearly screamed at the windshield as she drove us back to the hotel.

I cackled. "Yeah."

"And you gave it to him?!"

I didn't verbally respond, only dropped my head in my hands.

"Holy fuck!"

"He said he just wants to be friends."

"Oh, bullshit. He fucking liked you. I could tell he was into the attitude."

I gasped. "Not true!"

"So fucking true."

"No way, dude. He's Noah Sebastian. And I'm...me."

"You're fucking amazing, I don't know what you mean." Nicole looked nearly offended.

"I know. But he just wants to talk."

She smirked. "With his dick, maybe."

The shrieking laughter that exploded out of me was a mix of shock and hilarity at her comment.

"We'll know for sure if he texts you."

I sighed, leaning back in my seat. "We'll see."

As fried as my nerves were, nothing was stopping me from passing out the moment my head hit the pillow of the hotel room bed. I was absolutely cooked, ready to return back to my normal life.

I had received no messages before I knocked out, so I put it out of my head. It was a fun experience, and a sweet gesture of him to take my number, but I knew the likelihood of ever hearing from him again was so slim, it wasn’t worth hoping for.

He didn’t know me, and from what I knew about Noah Sebastian, he was an extremely private person. How did he know I wouldn’t give out his number or share our messages online? I would probably pause before I did anything if I were him.

When my eyes finally cracked open, the fog settled behind my eyes slowly evaporating, I saw Nicole sat up on her bed, looking down at her phone. I grunted, rolling onto my side and pulling the blankets up to my chin.

“What time is it?”

“Nine. We don’t have to leave for the airport for another hour.” She didn’t look up at me, but she smirked when she spoke.

I yawned, letting my eyes fall closed again. “I should go back to sleep, then.”

“You could.” She set her phone in her lap. “Or, you could check your phone.”

Snuggling deeper under the covers, I stretched my legs.

“He hasn’t texted me, dude.”

Nicole raised an eyebrow. “I don’t know. Your phone went off twice about half an hour ago.” She leaned back on her hands. “I already looked at the screen, and it wasn’t your Dad or…anyone else.” She spoke the last words carefully. I knew who she was referring to, and my chest squeezed at the idea.

My hand carefully reached onto the nightstand, gripping my phone. I pulled it in front of my face, tapping in the code, and letting it open. My messages icon showed two red notifications, which I opened hastily.

The messages came from an unknown number. When I opened the thread, my heart halted all its movements.

+17475558326: Hi.

+17475558326: It’s Noah.

My breathing picked back up, and I shot straight up in bed.

“Was it him?!” Nicole was bursting.

My eyes slipped over to look at her, my mouth fallen open. “It was.”

She squealed. “I can’t believe he texted you!”

My fingers shook while holding the phone, threatening to drop it in my lap. “What do I do?!”

“Fucking respond!”

I nodded, my thumbs hovering over the screen but freezing. “What do I say?!”

“Hi? I don’t fucking know?!” She looked amused. I was not.

Me: Good morning.

My finger hovered over the send button for a moment before I finally sent it. Instinctively, I tossed my phone on the bed, pulling my knees to my chest,

“Holy fuck, dude.”

She stood, walking over to my cell and checking the screen. “He’s already read it.”

“Give it.” I held my hand out, and she placed it in my palm.

His type bubble was already up. I took a second to save his name into my phone.

Noah: Sleep okay?

Was this real life?

Me: I did, how about you?

Noah must’ve had the chat open, because my message was read instantly and he started texting back quick.

Noah: Eh, yeah. Hotel beds aren’t my favorite.

Me: Me either. I was so tired, though.

I stood off the bed, stretching my arms over my head. Nicole had disappeared into the bathroom. I pulled my hoodie over my head, and looked at my messages again.

Noah: I’ll bet. You had a busy weekend. Excited to go home?

I thought about my response carefully.

Me: I am. I’m sure my kids are missing me almost as much as I miss them.

It shouldn’t be any big deal to admit that I’ve got kids casually, right? We’re just friends…

The thread indicated he read the messages, but it took him a full five minutes to start typing. My breath held what felt like the entire time, waiting for his text to come through.

Noah: How many kids?

My pulse raced, and I sat down on the edge of the bed.

Me: Two.

Noah: How old?

I raised an eyebrow.

Me: Why do you ask?

He responded slowly.

Noah: Just curious. Making conversation.

I sighed, now slightly concerned.

Me: 9 and 5.

Noah: Boys?

Me: Boy and a girl. My son is older.

Noah: Big brother, huh? Very cool. What’re their names?

I bit my lip, and Nicole was now stood next to the bed staring at me.

“What’s wrong?”

“I told him about my kids.”

She eyed me, confused. “And?”

“He’s asking about them.”

Quirking an eyebrow, she sat down next to me. “Are you not comfortable telling him? That’s a valid feeling, babe.” She put a hand on my knee. “You just met him.”

I nodded. “It’s just kind of…I don’t know, strange? Why would he care what my kid’s names are?”

She pursed her lips, staring down at my phone. “Maybe he’s trying to get to know you?”

“Maybe. I don’t know. Maybe I should just tell him?”

“It’s up to you, babe.”

I sent back a quick response.

Me: Michael and Willow

Noah: Nice.

I was brushing my teeth, so I didn’t immediately respond before his next text came in.

Noah: So, if you’ve got kids, does that mean you have a husband?

I scoffed, rolling my eyes.

Me: Don’t have to be married to have kids, Noah.

His text that came through almost made me spit my toothpaste all over the mirror.

Noah: Children out of wedlock?! Unacceptable!!

I cackled, and I knew Nicole was wondering, but she didn’t ask.

Me: What can I say? I’m a heathen.

I followed it up quickly.

Me: But, no. Not married. Their Dad is around, but we’re not together.

Noah: I see.

I sighed, not really sure where to go from here. Resolving to changing the subject, I was also packing up my things into my duffel to prepare for our journey to the airport.

Me: Anyway, enough about me. What’re you up to?

Noah: On the bus headed to Mansfield. We should be there in about an hour.

Me: Oh, that’s right. You play Inkcarceration tonight, right?

Noah: Yup. Surprised you won’t be there. 😜

I laughed out loud.

Me: Well, I can only stalk you so much. I have work tomorrow.

Noah: What do you do?

Me: I work for a law firm as a paralegal. It’s a mostly remote gig, so I work from home most days.

Nicole and I loaded our bags into the car, dropping our key cards off at the desk.

Noah: Oh that sounds fun.

Me: It’s not, but it pays the bills.

We made it to the rental car return, and I waited outside while Nicole dropped the keys in the box. We made our way into the airport, now having to pay full attention to the tasks at hand.

Check in, move through TSA, head to Starbucks, find gate.

Nicole had stopped at a gift shop that had an impressive bookstore inside, where I opted to go find seats at the gate. It wasn’t until I was settled in that I was able to check my phone again.

Noah: Well, what would you rather do for a living?

I chewed my bottom lip thinking about this.

Me: I don’t really know, honestly. Thats a tough question.

Me: I’d have to think on that.

Noah: Great, I expect a report back in 3-5 business days. 👍🏻

I cackled at the message, and Nicole sat next to me right as I did.

“Still texting the love of your life?”

I scoffed, locking my phone and looking at her. “Oh, stop. He’s just a guy.”

“Yeah, mhm, sure.” She opened her crispy new novel and began reading the first few pages, successfully ending the short conversation.

Noah: What time’s your flight?

Me: We board in about ten minutes.

Noah: Sweet. You’ll be home soon, you must be relieved.

Me: I am, but I hate flying…

Noah: Really? I’m the same way. It’s the worst.

Me: Any tips for me?

Noah: Depends. Is it the small spaces, or the fear of crashing?

Me: Crashing.

Noah: Oh, yeah…no. Can’t help you there. I have an insane irrational fear of being in a plane crash.

I audibly groaned, sinking into my seat.

Me: Awesome, thanks.

Noah: LOL you’ll be fine. It’ll be a smooth flight and you’ll be home to your kids in no time.

Noah: I usually blast music through the whole flight and just tune everything out.

Me: I’ll try that.

The call for our boarding came, so Nicole and I stood, headed for the line.

Me: We’re about to board. Talk later?

Noah: Yup. Fly safe. Text when you land.

Noah: If you want.

Smiling at my phone, I typed back swiftly.

Me: Will do.

Falling into my bed, I took a moment to stare up at the ceiling.

It was over. I was home. All that was left to do was gather myself, pick up my kids from their Dad, and return back to my regular life.

The thought consumed me. I only had an hour until I was due to pick them up, and as excited as I was to see my babies, I was absolutely floundering at the idea of seeing their Dad…

Things had not ended well between Sean and I. Earlier in the year, we had finally called it quits after nearly a decade. Although we tried hard to amicably end things, it just wasn’t in the cards for us. There was too much history and hurt to let it die peacefully.

I gave myself a few minutes to gather myself before I took my phone out, shooting him a quick text to let him know I’d be there at 5PM, as agreed.

Sean: K.

Sounds about right.

I then realized I had forgotten to text Noah, so I opened our thread.

Me: I got home okay. Did you make it to Ohio safely?

Heading for the backyard to let my dog, Steve, out to use the bathroom, I sat at the table, staring out at the grass.

My phone chimed.

Noah: Nope. Bus crashed. Fiery mess. Blood everywhere.

I smirked.

Me: Damn. RIP.

Noah: We’re at the festival, just hanging for now. We’ve got about an hour before they set up the stage.

Me: Same setlist from last night?

Noah: Probably. We haven’t taken the time to make a new one.

I sighed, making my way back into the house and moving around the kitchen to start a pot of coffee.

Me: You should.

Noah: Yeah, how so?

Thinking for a moment, I leaned against the counter, and typed on the screen.

Me: Maybe add in something different? Something you haven’t played in a long time?

Noah: Such as…?

I snorted.

Me: Isn’t that your job to decide?

Noah: You can tell me, as a listener, what you’d want to hear.

Noah: What’s your favorite song off the first album?

Me: The Fountain, but that’s too slow.

Noah: I doubt I even know the words to that anymore, dude.

Me: Exit Wounds?

Noah: Meh.

Me: OMG…

Noah: What else?

Me: Worst In Me?

Noah: Hate that song.

Me: Jesus actual Christ.

Noah: Second album? Other than Limits?

Me: Burning Out?

Noah: …

Noah: That might not be a bad one…

Me: Oop?

Noah: I’ve got to talk to Nick. I don’t have a lot of time. I’ll text you later?

Me: Yup. Have a great show!

Noah: That you should be at…

I ignored his last message, sipping my coffee, and steadying myself. He was a little flirty, sure. It didn’t mean my heart didn’t jump each time he did it.

My knuckles tapped the door, and I was greeted by my son Michael, his smile huge.

“Mom!” He rushed me, wrapping his arms around my waist.

“Hey baby!” I knelt down, pulling him into a tight squeeze.

Behind him, inside the house, my daughter came running as well. “Mama!”

I pulled an arm open for her, encapsulating them both. “Ugh, I missed you guys so hard.”

Letting them loose, I noticed they already had their backpacks on.

“Where’s your Dad?” I looked around inside the apartment, but Michael just waved a hand.

“In his room. He told me to tell you he’ll see you next week.” He was so nonchalant, and although I knew it was forced, I was thoroughly impressed at how strong my young man had been throughout this difficult process.

Silently, I thanked the universe that Sean and I didn’t have to come face to face, and we made our way out of the apartment and down the stairs.

“How was Mushygen?” Willow asked, and I laughed at her pronunciation.

“Michigan was good. Auntie and I had fun, but I’m so glad to be home with you both.” I buckled her in the back of my minivan while Michael climbed in his seat next to hers.

“Did you get to meet any cool bands?” He asked me.

This made me smile as I slid into my seat, starting the vehicle.

“I did. I actually got to meet my favorite band.”

“Bad Omens?!” His voice cracked, and I smiled bigger.

“Yes! We ran into them at a restaurant last night!”

“What were they like?” He was curious, being a bit of a fan himself.

“Super nice, really cool guys.” I skipped over mine and Noah’s introductory debacle.

“That’s so cool, Mom!” Willow chirped from her seat.

“How was your weekend at Dad’s?” I asked them.

They proceeded to give me the full rundown of their three days with their father. They went to the park, out to dinner, but mostly stayed in at the apartment, given how hot it was. They couldn’t wait to go back next weekend.

Sean was a lot of things, but I’d never lie and say he wasn’t a good father to his kids.

Once back at home, I began working on dinner. Spaghetti, per the children’s request. After dinner were baths/showers, two hours of hangout time, before they had to go to bed. It was summer, so bedtime was midnight.

About 8:30PM, while I was sat on my Chaise lounger curled up with Willow watching Inside Out, my phone buzzed next to me.

Noah: That was a good choice. Turns out, a lot of people know that song.

Me: I’m glad it went well! Did the rest of the set go smoothly?

Noah: Sure did. It was tiring, and I’m ready to go home. But festivals are fun.

Me: When do you head back home?

Noah: Tonight. We’ve got stuff coming up on Thursday, so we’ve got to get going ASAP. Takes three days to make it back to LA.

I felt Willow shift next to me, and I noticed she was snoozing comfortably. It was already after 9PM, so I decided it was time to carry her into her room.

Laying her small body in bed and tucking her pale pink blanket over her, I left her with a kiss on the forehead and turned on her nightlight.

When I made it back to my spot, I flipped to SVU, and responded to his text.

Me: That’s a long drive. I don’t envy you.

Noah: You’ve got work tomorrow, I don’t envy you.

Smiling, I leaned back in my seat and covered up with my throw blanket.

Me: Fair enough.

The days passed tediously. Two weeks had gone by since I came home from Michigan. Every day, like clockwork, Noah texted me. Not the entire day, but most of it. We talked about a lot. My job. His music. Our favorite movies. Favorite places. Our hobbies. Our tattoos.

I was working in-office today, smiling at my phone because of the messages we were exchanging.

Noah: How big is it?

Me: Hip to knee.

Noah: WOAH.

I smirked. I was referring to a tattoo of an octopus I have on my left thigh.

Noah: Pic?

Me: I don’t have any off hand.

The flirting had been mild at best, but once in a while, he would say something suggestive, and it made me smile. Still, I would typically change the subject.

Noah: Damn. I’ll just have to see it in person.

This made my stomach twirl. In person? Throughout these last couple weeks, at no point had we discussed meeting in person again. I mean, it was possible, I’m sure. But it hadn’t really registered as a possibility.

While talking to Noah over text only, it almost made the entire experience feel unreal.

Me: I don’t remember seeing any Vegas tour dates on your website, sir.

His text took a few to come through.

Noah: Sir…?

Whoops. Maybe that was a bad move.

Noah: Vegas isn’t far. And didn’t you say you’re going to be in LA in September?

Chewing the skin off of my lip, I clutched my phone.

Me: To see Falling in Reverse and Black Veil Brides.

Noah: Maybe I could go.

Me: I didn’t think you listened to them?

Noah: Not so much, but if you’re going to be there, I think it could be fun.

That made my insides twist. He wanted to see me?

Me: Well, guess I’ll see you there, then?

After work, I dropped the kids at Sean’s. He had requested we do contactless drop off now, to try and avoid any arguments…like my children were a fucking Uber delivery.

He would stand outside, I’d let them out of the car, and they’d walk up to the apartment. It was fucking childish, but I didn’t argue. I had no energy left for Sean anymore. He had taken it all.

At home, I began the process of decompressing for the week, still fuming over my ex’s immaturity. First order of business was to uncork my Rosé, and fill my tallest glass.

I stood at the counter, heels kicked off to the floor of the kitchen, and chugged a few gulps of the drink.

My phone began chiming in my bag, and I fished it out. Someone was FaceTiming me?

Noah…

Noah was FaceTiming me?

I swiped the call open, not bothering to check my appearance first, and his face looked back at me. He was sitting at a desk, bed behind him, wearing a t-shirt and his hair was messy.

“Hey.” I said, apprehensive.

“Hey, sorry, is this a bad time?”

I shook my head, taking another long pull from my glass. “Not at all. Just got home from dropping the kids off.” My tone contradicted my words, my agitation still leaking in.

“You sure? Lookin’ a little stressed there, October.”

I snorted, propping my phone against the stove, and refilling my glass.

“Long day. What’s up?”

He sat back in his chair, hands folded over his chest. “Just wanted to see you.”

My fingers gripped the counter. “You did?”

“Yeah, texting gets old.”

I nodded. “It does.”

“Want to talk about your day?”

I groaned, the alcohol already softening the edges of my brain slightly. “You don’t even want to know.”

He pursed his lips. “Try me?”

Waving a hand in front of me, I swallowed the last of my second glass. “It’s just my children’s father being a dick. Nothing new.”

Lifting a brow, he cocked his head to the side. “What’d he do?”

As messy as ever, I poured a third and final glass, emptying the bottle, and dropping it in the trash can. Lifting my hand to my hair, I pulled the clip loose, shaking my hair out.

“He asked for contactless delivery with the kids.” I said as I lifted the glass to my lips.

He looked taken back. “Like…a pizza?”

“That’s what I said!” I shook my head. “He’s a fucking coward. He can’t even fucking face me without being an asshole.”

“Then maybe it’s better you don’t see each other?”

Shrugging, I ran a hand through my hair. “Fuck, probably.”

Looking at him, I noticed he was walking now, phone in hand.

“Anyway, fuck that guy. How was your day?”

He set the phone back down, and he was clearly in his kitchen. “Uneventful. Played with some beats. Caught up on some of the shows I’d been missing.”

I walked to my room, pulling a t-shirt from the hanger. “I’m going to set you down a sec so I can change.”

He just nodded. “Should I make pasta or tacos for dinner?”

I shouted at the phone as I pulled my shirt over my head and slipped my pants off. “Pasta, always pasta.”

Satisfied, he began pulling items from the cabinet.

“Oh, Noah!” I stood, only in my shirt covering my underwear. He turned to look at me as I lifted the phone. “Did you want to see the tattoo now?”

He padded back to where his phone was at, and leaned down close to the screen. I set my phone on my dresser and stepped backward to get myself in the frame. Feeling sheepish, I carefully worked to only show my ink, and not my crotch.

“Hmm,” He mused. “Cant see it. Better take the shirt off too.”

My eyes rolled, and I grabbed the phone. “Perv.”

He snickered, smiling at me. “What? Beautiful tattoo on a beautiful woman? Can you blame me?”

My cheeks reddened, and I quickly slipped my sweats on. “Guess not.”

He placed a pot of water on the stove to boil, and stepped back, twirling a wooden spoon in his hand. His eyes considered me as I moved back into the kitchen to start working on my own meal.

“Can I ask you something, October?”

Distractedly, melting some butter, scallions, and garlic in a pan, I responded. “Sure.”

“When I asked you for your number, back in Michigan, you acted like you weren’t looking to date anyone.”

My eyes shot over to the phone, my hand stopping its stirring. “Mhm…”

“That’s true? You’re not looking to date?”

Trying to concentrate on my task, I added the cream to the roux I had made. “Not right now, why?”

He shrugged his shoulders, dropping his pasta in the boiling pot. “Curious.”

“Yeah? Cause that’s a super pointed question for just curiosity.”

He smiled to himself, not looking at the camera. “Alright, maybe I’m a little more than curious.”

I turned my full attention to him, adding Parmesan to my Alfredo base. “What’s ’a little more than curious’?”

He looked at me then, eyes piercing me. “Interested?”

Death. That’s what I felt right then. Heart rate explosive, mind racing, eye twitching. No words can describe the feeling when someone as unbelievable as Noah Sebastian tells you they’re interested…

“Y-You’re…interested?”

He nodded slowly, stirring his pot. “I am.”

Stuttering like a cat, I nearly dropped my spoon. “Why?” I managed to choke out.

His face was bewildered. “Why not?”

Biting my lip hard enough to draw blood, I nearly let my sauce boil over.

“Uh,” I moved the pan from the burner and poured my pasta in the water. “I mean, it’s a valid question.”

“I don’t get it.”

“Noah…” I sighed hard, scrubbing a hand over my face. “Have you seen you?”

“A few times.” He laughed as he strained his noodles. “And?”

“I’m not,” I pointed toward him. “that.”

“A dude? Yeah, I didn’t think so but I didn’t exactly want to ask.”

I narrowed my eyes, smirking. “Smart ass.”

“I don’t see the confusion here.”

“You’re being willfully ignorant.” I raised my eyebrows at him.

“How so?” He answered as he threw butter and seasonings into the pot.

Sucking my teeth, I rolled my eyes. “Noah, you’re an actual rockstar.”

“Kay, and?”

“And I’m a normal person.”

“I’m sorry,” He held up the spoon that was scooping noodles into a bowl. “Am I not?”

“I have kids. A job. Baggage. We live in different states. You’re,” I gestured to him again. “far out of my league.”

He shook his head. “I disagree.”

He moved to his table, propping me up on something I couldn’t see.

“Well, you’re wrong.”

He shoveled food into his mouth, taking a moment to chew. I strained my own pasta.

“How do you figure? You’re funny, interesting, fiery, beautiful…”

My throat went dry.

“What’s the issue?”

Putting my pasta together and getting it onto a plate, I walked over to my own table. “You’re forgetting the baggage part.”

He waved a hand. “You’ve got kids. So what?”

I dropped my fork. “So what?”

He rolled his eyes. “I didn’t mean it like that. I just mean, what’s the big deal?”

“Uhh,” I drawled. “you don’t? And probably don’t need that in your life right now.” I sighed. “Or someone who has them. They’re always first priority.”

Nodding, he continued eating. “As they should be.”

Biting into my food, I stared at him, no words coming to mind.

“Look,” He set his fork down. “I’m not saying I want to marry you.” I choked at the word. “I just like you.”

My eyes widened, my jaw stopping mid-chew.

“I just want to take you on a date or something. See how it goes when I’m not super cranky.” He smirked.

Oh God. It was so enthralling, hearing the words come out of his mouth…

The temptation was strong.

But…

“I can’t, Noah.”

He leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. “No?”

My head hung in frustration.

“I like you, too. A lot. But,” I pushed my plate away, suddenly losing all of my appetite. “I’m still dealing with a lot. I’m trying to get back to a sense of normalcy here. Sean just moved out three months ago. My kids are my entire life. I feel like I’m living in a storm at all times. I’ve got to get a handle on that for now.”

He was silent as I spoke, and I knew I had blown it.

“Are you mad?”

His tongue rolled around in his mouth before he spoke. “No. I won’t lie, I’m disappointed, but your reasoning is valid. I respect that.”

A man? Respecting me? Wild concept.

“I understand if you don’t want to talk anymore.”

He looked perplexed, taking a drink from his water bottle. “Why would I want that?”

I didn’t verbally respond, I just stared at him.

“I like you for more than a date, October. I like talking to you. If it’s alright with you, I’d like to keep doing that.”

My face warmed, and I couldn’t stop the smile spreading. “I’d like that, too.”

“Alright.” He slapped a hand on the table. “That settles that. We’ll stay friends.” He picked his fork back up and kept eating.

I almost didn’t catch the last words come out of his mouth.

“For now.”

[cvnt4him]

Ik that most of your stuff is nsfw (not complaining) but I was wondering if you could do something about an amusement park date w Izuku where the reader is kind of horrified of rides but gets on them anyway lol 💗 Love your writing SO much 🫶

I promise promise promise I write other things than just smut!! You can always go to my MHA masterlist to see ofc! Thank you so much for the love and appreciation, feel free to leave another req anytime you're always welcome<333

Writing this bc literally like 2 days ago I went to six flags n almost died.

Going on a surprise date with your boyfriend izuku midoriya was not supposed to be like this. You loved whenever he planned these, of course, but it just so happened to be the one thing in the world you were afraid of. Amusement parks.

It's not the park you were scared of, it was the rides, the rollercoasters. How high into the sky they'd get and those oh so terrifying drops. Don't even get me started on the loops they do and when they go backwards n twist n turn n shit, n how fast they go?! For fucks sake.

You were petrified. Literally shaking in your boots just staring at the entrance sign of the park, your eyes slowly moved to your boyfriends excited face the way he was blazing with excitement and happiness. You could tell he wanted this with you, to experience a traditional moment in girlfriend and boyfriend history.

Izuku was adorable by all means, and you loved him with ALL of your heart, but this was just something you weren't sure you could do. I mean, scary rides that go super duper fast and could go off the rails at any given moment whilst you're in the sky? It's a death wish waiting to happen.

“ surprise!! Are you excited? I'm so excited! I got us VIP passes so we get to skip the lines and go first! I can't wait to do this with you!!! First we'll go on the superman, then we'll go to the..-”

As he trailed off into exact details of what exactly you'd be doing suddenly you felt something swarm your tummy. It wasn't something as angelic as butterflies either...

“ grreeeeat...”

You cut izuku off mid sentence which made his eyes shoot directly to you, the way his smile dropped was fucking hilarious, but also heartbreaking at the same time. His eyes grew wide and started searching your face for any sign of discomfort or anything, he found exactly what he was looking for. He seen the way you were nervous and fiddling with the hem of your shirt, he cupped your face and pulled you closely placing a gentle kiss on the bridge of your nose.

“ hon, is everything alright?”

The worry in his eyes hurt your heart. You couldn't let his money that he spent on VIP PASSES.... Go to waste. You exhaled through your nose and sucked it up.

“ I'm fine, my love. Just hungry I guess, is there anything to eat?”

His loving smile reappeared, he patted your head gently before speaking to you in such a soft manner assuring you that not only would everything be okay, but you probably shouldn't eat first if you're going to go on fast rides.

Fuck.

The next two hours were spent on terrifying rides you tried your hardest to get through, you almost threw up a couple of times but that's not something he definitely needs to know. Your legs were wobbly and your stomach was swirling, you tried to catch your breath but your racing heart was not helping. Your hair was a mess, your cheeks were red due to the heat and worst of all you felt like the earth was spinning.

All the whole izuku was yipping and yapping ab how you should 'do it again' n how 'you should try the Texas Giant' which is known for being one of the scariest rides there. You literally started shaking at the mere mention of the ride, whimpering lowly as he grabbed your hand and dragged you to it.

Of course being the obedient partner you are, you suffered through it and had your eyes closed the entire time, you screamed loudly and held onto your boyfriend and the ride buckles for dear life terrified you were going to fall out.

After getting off you held onto the railings for dear life literally thanking everything above for not letting you die. Izuku however was more worried about your pictures that had gotten taken whilst you were on the ride.

“ wh- what..”

“ look! Look at how cute you look snuggled up close to me like that!”

You two must've been looking at two completely different pictures because the one you seen was you holding onto his shirt for dear life, screaming and pleading to not die whilst your hair was all over the place, it even looked like tears were prickling at your eyes. It was embarrassing and the fact everyone could see it made you feel even more hot.

It was burning up outside and you felt dizzy, those fast rides were NOT helping at all. You gulped down, dehydrated and terrified, wobbly legs hardly getting you to where you needed to go. You weakly call out to izuku who with a smile on his face turns back to look at you, he seen your estate and rushed to your side pulling you into the nearest shack with fans and drinks ordering you one instantly.

He watched dover you with a frown, worried he might be pushed you too far. He knew you had a fear of heights but he figured this could be fun, you two could overcome it together like those cheesy romcoms.

It broke izukus heart that this unfortunately wasn't like those stupid movies, as sad and disappointed as he was that you both had to leave due to you being terribly overheated and dizzy, he was glad you were okay.

The train ride home you look so sad, your rosey cheeks all puffed out while you looked at your shoes with a small frown. Izuku took notice and frowned alongside you, he placed one of his hands on top of tours and squeezed it lightly getting you to acknowledge him. once you look up to him a welcoming smile spreads across his freckled face, small dimples being present.

“ are you alright, hon?”

“ tsk, I'm fine. J's feelin’ bad I ruined your day.. you spent all that money on those VIP passes and I chickened out...”

That broke izukus heart knowing this was eating away at you. Izuku didn't care about money, or how much he'd spent, or how it'd "go to waste". He cared about spending time with his partner because he loves you. he squeezed your hand once more before completely embracing you in a hug. No matter how embarrassing you might've looked or how red you were due to the heat, he'd love you regardless and he was glad that despite your crippling fear of heights you went along with him.

“ y/n, don't worry about any of that. I don't care about that, so neither should you. I just wanted to spend time with you.. I'm glad you came along with me and rode the rides that you did! But I deeply apologize that you felt like you couldn't tell me no, that you didn't want to do it. I love you always, and nothing will change that.”

He was just too adorable and loving for you. Sometimes you felt as if you didn't deserve him, which is natural. He's such a great and caring and selfless guy it's normal to feel that way when you finally have something good. He was just so cute he was making you want to bite him n squeeze his stupid baby-like cheeks.

“ -and besides,.. we get to use those passes all year round. So don't worry about it, if you're ever feeling brave again we can just come back!”

Huh. Well there you go. A bright side to the dark side, he really did think this entire thing through didn't he. The perfect man that izuku was, and he was all yours. You loved him so much and you couldn't wait to show him just how much.

“ next time we go on a "surprise date" I'll let you know before hand it's not an amusement park, haha!!”

“ okay, y’dork.”

You sighed and snuggled into his chest, he chuckled at your words and held you close. Obviously due to the heat it didn't take long for you to let go of him but you held his hand regardless, no amount of sweaty palms could make you let go of him.

AN: I know people don't normally like when I write anything other than smut but since I've been away from writing anything other than little imagines n shit I enjoyed this. I hope you all do too<3