#it was so hard to find music i had to keep cutting it down because there wasnt any songs long enough

[itneverendshere]

BLESS HALLOWEEN - r.c (+18)

pairing: frat!rafe/ghostface!rafe x reader (uni au) warnings: no plot; smut

inspired by this audio (+18)

between midterms, a terrible class project partner, and your roommate constant need to fuck her boyfriend at any given hour of the day, you’re half asleep most days.

the only thing you should be doing is sleeping, anywhere, for hours, but instead, you let yourself get dragged to a halloween party. 

sure, you’re running on three hours of sleep and five cups of coffee, but heaven forbid you to miss a party because your roommate just had to be there. never mind that she’s been wearing her "not-so-pg sexy witch" costume since last tuesday, casting spells for her crush to notice her (like he doesn’t see half her skin every night anyway).

you look hotter than you'd like to admit. black mini dress? check. sky-high boots? check. a little lace mask that hides just enough to keep the mystery going? obviously.

you're not trying too hard, but you’re giving just enough to turn heads, with a vibe that says, “i might ruin your life, but you'll thank me for it."

you’re rocking some version of a "slutty masquerade," not that anyone could guess what that means, but it gets you a free drink within five minutes. and the best part? nobody knows it’s you.

the only downside is that you’re in his territory.

it could be anywhere, but it’s happening at his frat.

your project partner, personal headache and resident menace, rafe cameron holds court here like he’s king of the idiots.

he’s hot, you’ll give him that, guy’s all charm until it’s time to work; then he’s as useless as that cheap foundation your roommate keeps borrowing.

and now you’re here, half hoping to avoid his face entirely—his smirk that screams "’m getting credit off your hard work" and that irking attitude that makes him think he’s doing you a favor.

as if seeing him once a week in class isn’t enough of a problem. you pull your mask down a bit lower, not that he’d recognize you through the lace, but just in case.

against all odds, you’re having a good time. the drinks are good—something sugary—and you find yourself laughing, loosening up.

mid-laugh, you walk straight into someone, practically face-plant into a solid chest. you stagger back, the guy's hand catching your elbow to hold you, and you look up, only to be met with a ghostface mask.

“ohh, sorry,” he says with an amused chuckle like he's getting a kick out of startling you. "sorry, sorry—i  didn’t mean to scare you," he adds, not sounding remotely apologetic.

you raise a brow, your lips curving just slightly. “hmm, you sure? cause it kinda looks like you enjoy it."

he puts a hand up in mock innocence. “nah, i swear, completely unintentional,” 

you blink up at him, squinting against the red lighting to catch a better look at his mask. it’s honestly a little creepy up close, that ghostface grin somehow twisting a bit more under the lights and crowd. but you’re in the mood to get laid tonight.

"nice costume,” you don’t bother to hide the way your eyes stuck to every corner of his body, “scary.”

he doesn’t catch it though, leaning down, head tilting, “what?” he asks, chuckling a bit as he stands closer. “yeah, sorry—the music’s way too loud.”

rolling your eyes with a little attitude, you repeat yourself, a bit louder. “i said, your costume’s scary.”

he nods, shaking his head like he’s relieved, and rubs the back of his neck, as if this mask isn’t hiding the flush you think you see creeping up his neck. “oh, thanks. yeah, uh, you look…” his voice trails off a little, and he clears his throat, swallowing. “you look pretty, uh, scary too.”

you raise a brow, "you think so?"

he nods again, “yeah, ’m terrified of hot women, so…”

the music cuts him off this time around, his words getting lost in the heavy bass, it’s harder to know what he’s saying when you can’t read his lips. you frown, stepping closer into his space. “hmm?”

the guy practically jolts, “nothing, nothing—it’s, uh…” he stammers, then gestures at your face, his fingers brushing near your mask. “it’s a cool mask.”

you smile, amused. “thanks, ghostface. should i be, y’know, scared of you?”

 “i don’t know, that depends. should i be scared of you?”

"nop, you're cute. i like where this is going."

the guy’s mask tilts, there’s smidge of surprise in his voice. "really? so—so you’re into masks and, like, the whole psycho-killer thing?”

you shrug nonchalantly, letting your gaze drag over him slower. "only if they're hot and built like you."

there's a short pause, and you can practically feel the amused smile hidden under his mask. “oh, okay, yeah, yeah—so what is it? do you like being scared, or?”

there’s something about a guy like him—tall, broad-shouldered, who could probably break you in half without even trying. and honestly? you like that kind of shit. you’ve always wanted a guy who could cover you with his entire body, who’d tower over you in a way that was intimidating enough to make your heart pound. 

the kind that, if you begged nicely, might just be able to cut off your oxygen in bed with one hand. and here he is, looking like he could throw you around a little if you wanted him to. which you might. his hand still hovering near your waist isn’t exactly subtle either—it’s like he knows, somehow. either way, you keep your expression smooth, not giving him anything, it’s more fun that way.

you let out a giggle that’s only partly mocking. "maybe i just like danger, ghostface. or maybe i like watching people squirm."

“holy shit, that’s fucked up.”

you take a slow sip of your drink, watching his shirt cling to his chest as he takes a deep breath, every inch of that body sculpted to the fucking gods like it was made for nights like this. shit, that’s a nice body. 

you can’t help the sly smirk that pulls at your lips as you murmur, “what’s wrong with liking it rough?”

he snickers, almost breathlessly, and you know you’re getting to him. “there’s something a little wrong with you.”

yeah, there is. you almost blurt out the truth—that your panties are drenched and practically glued to your skin because of him, that he’s got you feeling hornier than you’ve felt in a long time. but you choose to let your fingers trail down his arm, slow and teasing. 

“you think so?” you faux-pout, giving him a look that’s all dark lashes and bad intentions.

he swallows, stumbling over his words. “y-yeah, i mean, there’s some things you need to… work on.”

you tilt your head, smiling in that way you know drives guys crazy, leaning in just enough to make him catch his breath. “would you like to help me?”

he stares at you, goosebumps rising along his arm where your fingers still rest, visibly caught off guard, “what does that mean?”

with a wicked grin, you reach up, wrapping your manicured hands around his neck, his breath all but halting as you pull him down until his face is level with yours. his breath hitches, and you take your time, letting your lips brush the shell of his ear, enough to make him shiver. 

“you find me upstairs,” you murmur, voice dripping with promise, “and ’m all yours. okay?”

instead of waiting for him to process it, you’re already sneaking off into the crowd, leaving him rooted. you don’t try looking back, already feeling his stare burning into you, dazed and desperate as he takes in what you just promised. you don’t second guess yourself once, you know he’s coming.

by the time he shakes himself out of his trance, you’re halfway up the stairs.

at the top, you stop, one quick peek over your shoulder to check if he’s still watching.

you push open a random door and slip into an empty room, locking eyes with yourself in the mirror. hair a little wild, eyes glinting with that mischievous glint you know all too well. you adjust your mask, the lace sitting just right over your cheekbones. you pull your dress higher, letting it ride up just a little higher, admiring the way the fabric clings to you, showing off every curve.

you turn the lights off, letting the room fall into shadows. he’ll have to work for it if he wants to find you. you can imagine the way he’ll hesitate, hand hovering over the doorknob, wondering what the hell he’s getting himself into. 

why make it easy for him?

rafe watches you leave, standing there like a fucking idiot, heart hammering in his chest as he replays what just happened. the words “find me upstairs, and i’m all yours” looping in his mind like a mantra. the confidence in your voice, the way you looked at him like you already knew he’d be following—fuck, it’s enough to make him hard just thinking about it.

he swallows, trying to be calm as he looks around, but there’s no hiding the way his breathing’s quickened, how his body is buzzing at the thought of finding you, alone, in a dark room, just waiting for him.

you’re playing with him, he tells himself, but he doesn’t care. he’s going to go after you anyway.

pushing through the crowd, he’s half-dazed, talking to himself under his breath, almost wheezing out a series of what the fucks. his grip wraps around the banister as he ascends the stairs, his fingers still itching from where you’d brushed against him. he feels completely out of his element. girls flirt with him all the time, he’s with girls all the time, sure, but this—this is different. 

he always been a sucker for a good challenge and you’d practically left him in the dust, tossing back that promise without even checking if he’d follow.

at the top, he pauses, looking down the hallway, every door holding the possibility that you might be behind it, waiting. 

rafe feels that thrill coil in his stomach, his heart pounding in anticipation. he’s like a kid on halloween night, trick-or-treating at the house he’s always been too afraid to knock on. but you dared him, so there’s no way he’s backing out now.

he starts with the first door, pushing it open only to find it empty, checking the shadows, in case you’re hiding, but nothing. he goes into the next door, finding a couple already in there, and quickly shuts it again, eyes slamming shut, ignoring their annoyed stares as he backs out.

third time’s the charm, yeah? he thinks, reaching for the next door and pulling it open. the door creaks as it swings shut behind him, his footsteps are slow, hesitant, and the scuff of his shoes against the floor makes him cringe. 

it takes him a second for his eyes to adjust to the dark, pupils dilating as he walks further inside.his breathing is loud and uneven, almost like he’d run all the way here. he stops in the middle of the room, his chest rising and falling hard, his breath painfully audible. 

his heart is doing an annoying thing, pounding, and he swears he can hear it.

did he misread you? the space is eerily quiet, he can’t help but wonder if he’s been set up, if you’re somewhere downstairs, laughing at how eagerly he followed your trail up here like a fucking dumbass.

rafe scans the room’s edges, searching, and he notices a quick movement in the corner—something. he swallows he leans forward a little, squinting to make out any familiar shape.

“you wanna play hide and seek?” he calls out, hoping he’s not making a fool out of himself, “is that it?” he’s taking gulps of air, feeling dizzy from being in the dark for so long, “you like this?”

a quiet giggle echoes from one of the corners, inviting, and he feels the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. you’re playing this game too well, lurking just beyond his reach, and the longer he waits, the more desperate he feels.

he swallows, his mind spiraling as he steps walks around, slow and cautious, hands slightly trembling. he’s caught off guard by just how badly he wants you; the way you kept looking at him like he was the prey downstairs, has him all kinds of worked up. 

his cock stirring against his jeans is proof enough. 

“you want me to scare you or somethin’?” he provokes you, praying it’s enough to lure you out, “you think it’s smart? letting a stranger chase you into a room, with no one else around. you’re all alone with me.”

“who says you’re that dangerous?”

the second the words leave your mouth, rafe’s resolve slips. 

it’s maddening, the way you’re hiding from him, how your voice seems to come to him from every dark corner of the room. he shouldn’t have drowned two shots before following you, but the liquid courage had been tempting. 

you’re keeping him on a tight leash, making him wonder if he’s got a shot or if you’re just messing with his head. he wants to see you again, your expression—wants to read you, even if the last time he tried, he ended up with his mind in knots.

“you don’t even know my name,” he muses, taking a couple steps closer to the closet, “does that make it more fun for you? that you don’t know anything about me?”

his movements are cautious, almost reverent as if you’re something sacred and forbidden all at once. he stops, opening the doors, leaning inside as he half-whispers, “not here, huh?” no answer, just silence, but he swears he can feel you watching him, your gaze prickling his skin, almost burning, “where are you? c’mon come out, i’ll go easy on you.”

he sighs, sounding like more of a frustrated exhale. no sign of you anywhere. he shakes his head, letting out a soft laugh, more amused than annoyed. 

“be a good girl and come out.”

rafe stalks around the room with the focus of someone hunting prey, his footsteps deliberate, his hands gliding along the walls and over furniture. he reaches the small bathroom door adjacent to the room, his fingers tightening around the handle. his lips pull into a smirk as he pauses—listening. 

the room’s quiet, but then, he hears it: the faint, uneven rhythm of your breathing, a quickened inhale, almost as if his words had finally affected you. he stops dead, dropping his hand from the door and turning around with a dark gleam in his eyes. 

“wait—wait,” his voice lowers with satisfaction, with the thrill of the chase. he lets out a breathy chuckle, his eyes roving the room as he zeroes in on where you’re hiding. “i can hear you, can hear you breathing.” 

he takes a slow, taunting step, his head tilting, as though he’s relishing the way you’re fighting to stay silent, to keep control. 

“what’s the matter? you sound a little…” he trails off in a murmur, enjoying the tables turning. “...shaken up. are you scared?”

your breath slips, just enough to betray you and his lips quirk up.

“i know exactly where you are.” with lazy confidence, he walks over to the far corner where the heavy velvet curtains seem to pool against the floor, drawn closed over the tall, narrow window. 

his fingers brush the fabric, his eyes narrowing as if he can feel the warmth of you just on the other side. then, in one smooth motion, he grabs the curtain and yanks it open. 

“caught you.”

moonlight spills in, illuminating you both. in a second, you’re pressed against the wall, lips parted, cheeks flushed, and his eyes rake over you, lingering on the way your costume accentuates every curve of your body. 

he steps in close, his silhouette blocking the light as he cages you in, one hand pressing against the wall beside your head, the other landing on your waist. his gaze drops to your lips, taking time to roam the way you’re biting your lip.

you tilt your chin up, “maybe i just like trouble.” 

rafe’s grip on your waist tightens in response, a hunger that he can’t hide, while he’s memorizing the way you’re looking up at him, ready to push him just as far as he can take it.

“you’re in trouble, alrigh’,” he shakes his head, while his hand inches down, slipping lower along your body until his thumb brushes against the curve of your hip, “don’t think you understand what you’re getting yourself into.”

your fingers slide up his chest, feeling the hard planes of muscle beneath the thin fabric of his black shirt, the way his heart hammers from your touch alone.

“maybe that’s what i want,” you whisper, tipping your head up so your lips brush against his mask.

he shudders, and you let your fingers trail slowly down, tracing over the line of his collarbone. rafe swallows hard, his body thrumming with tension. his eyes dropping to your mouth once again, wishing he’d been smart enough to take the mask off, so he could kiss you. 

“you don’t know what you’re asking for,” he breathes, but the glint in his eyes says otherwise. he’s already melting under your touch, the desperation in the way he holds onto you confessing just how badly he needs it.

“you want me?” you ask, watching his pupils dilate as you lean in even closer, close enough that he can smell the fruity trace of your drink on your breath trough the mask, the lingering sweetness making him light-headed.

 jesus fucking christ where have you been all his life?

“yeah,” he mutters, voice strained, eyes half-lidded as he stares down at you, “i want you.” his hand trails up your side, down the line of your dress, stopping just at the hem. he hesitates, holding himself back for your sake, the look in his eyes begging for permission, daring you to say something, to let him go further.

you smirk, letting your fingers slip lower, grazing over the top of his waistband, “’m already so wet for you.”

a rough, almost growling sound escapes his throat as his fingers taunt around you, his control slipping at the admission. “yeah?” he grunts, letting his hand glide under the hem of your dress, his fingers inching higher, grazing along the sensitive skin of your thigh, “lets find out.”

the first brush of his fingers against your thong sends a shiver from your head to your toes, his smirk growing. he’s bold now, unapologetic as he moves them up, grazing the thin barrier of fabric between his hand and you.

your panties are ruined, drenched, and stuck to you most uncomfortably, he can tell from the way you keep pushing your hips forward, begging him to do something. 

he doesn’t think twice before using two fingers to pull the sticky fabric to the side.

“fuck,” he mutters to himself, “all this for me?”

you have to bite your lip to stop a moan from slipping out when he finally touches you properly. two of his long, thick fingers press against your entrance, sliding into you with no resistance. the feeling of your cunt clamping around him makes his cock twitch. 

he works you open, even the slightest touches have you arching your back from the wall. the need in his eyes turns ravenous with every desperate little gasp you let out. he moves slowly, deliberately, feeling the warmth of you clenching around his him, as he curls his fingers just right, 

“you’re so wet, ah, yeah—you’re gonna scream for me?”

his thumb finds your clit with ease, and he presses down, drawing gentle circles that make your knees buckle. he grins, drinking in every sound you’re trying to bite back. his thumb stays steady over your clit, circling with the perfect rhythm, applying just enough pressure to keep you breathless.

“c’me here,” his other hand moves with swift, easy dominance, capturing your wrists and pinning them above your head, holding you firmly against the wall,” you like this shit?” 

“you’re gonna fuck me with the mask on?” you grind yourself harder against him, practically delusional from the way he’s making you feel, “kinky.”

he's mesmerized by the way your breasts jolt underneath your dress with each shaky breath you take, your skin feels feverish, heat radiating off it like a furnace.

“just like you wanted,” he promises, his voice filled with satisfaction as his thumb presses down harder, coaxing a soft whimper from your lips. “go on, let me hear it—ride my hand.”

he tightens his hold on your wrists, keeping you perfectly in place, not prying his eyes away from how your brows frow with every grind. 

“fuckkkkk, do that again,” you whine when he hits a particular spot, your walls tightening around him in a way that makes him want to stop the foreplay and fuck you right away.

rafe leans forward to coo praise into your ear, “like this?” your skin is sticky with sweat—some saliva too—his. he’s never been this fucking hard in his life. he slows down on purpose, to torture you, doing anything in his power to make you beg, “ooh look at you— a fuckin mess.” he taunts.

“don’t be an asshole,” you groan, fingers itching to be set free, and grab his shoulders so you can slam down on him harder, “you gotta make me cum if you wanna fuck me.”

he runs deep circles into your clit making you press your legs together, knowing that he's getting exactly what he wants makes him chuckle into your skin. by this point as he mindlessly humps against your writhing body, he’s peeking down, taking a moment to admire the mess of slickness between your thighs.

“you want more?” you’re so caught up in the feeling that you don’t notice his hand leaving yours, wrapping it around your neck, pulling you closer to him, “answer me”

“another finger,” you spit out when he tightens his grip on your neck, the added touch having you on the brink.

rafe doesn’t even look at you, too entranced by your mess to make eye contact. he never got so lost during sex, but your pussy’s making him intoxicated to the point where his senses are dull, and the part of him that’s fully aware is his dick. 

he’s not even inside you yet, and still, he can cum just from seeing you ride his fingers. “another?”

he groans at the way one of your hands move to flex over his, watching in amusement as you try to get him to add one more finger. he mutters a low, gruff “good girl” as he slides a third finger in, pressing just deep enough to make your legs tremble, since you asked so nicely.

“think you can handle more?” rafe prods, “you’re so tight, don’t think you can take me.”

the way his fingers work, methodical and relentless, leaves you barely able to breathe, let alone answer.

“i could take t-two of you,” you tease, letting a breath out, and turning your head to face him. god you wondered if he looked good under that mask, but if he was this good in bed, who fucking cared.

“the only thing you’re taking is this fucking costume off,” he grumbles against your shiny lips, fanning like a wild animal catching the scent of its prey. he’s already tugging at the material, pulling the straps to the side before you can, nudging it aside, “look at you. gotta get my hands on you.”

rafe moves his attention to your breast and squeezes firmly, the tips of his fingers clasping down on your nipple, pressing and pulling as he chases after those sweet sounds that leave your lips.

“look at these tits, fuck” he rasps, eyes trailing over your chest and savoring every inch, his breath almost a snarl, “this’ what you wanted?”

you pressed your lips to his neck, ignoring the deep rumble in his chest as you sucked marks into his flesh, nipping him less than gently. grunting at a particularly rough bite you landed just under his adam’s apple, “i wanted your cock not your finger—"

his pitches your nipple harder making you squirm, “watch your fuckin’ mouth.”

the way you’re creaming his hand should be illegal, but this man is clearly sent from above. someone finally listened to you and gave you exactly what you needed to survive your dry spell. 

you reach down to cup him up through his jeans, “or what?”

he moans, head dropping to your shoulder, “fuck,” he mutters, his tone conveying that he’s just as distracted, watching how your puffy folds glisten with your arousal.

“hmmm, can’t hear you ghostface.”

rafe’s too entranced to put you in your place, you’ve got him eating out the palm of your hand. the sounds of your pussy sucking in his fingers are obscene, the simple act of your hand grazing cock has his knees buckling.

he can feel his heart beating miles a minute and he swears he could die right there, his hand coming down to grip the swell of your ass, kneading it firmly. you sigh contently with every slow drag of his hand, your head falling on his shoulder, nipping at his neck no doubt marking him up again.

“open your mouth.” you lift your head immediately, no smartass bullshit coming out of your lips, he chuckles breathlessly at your impatience, fingers moving from your ass to your parted hole, “suck my fingers, go on.”

it’s hard to make any coherent thought when his fingers are still inside you, dragging against your spongy walls deliciously, but your tongue automatically slips around his digits, doing your best to suck them down your throat. you’d never felt so willing to let a man bend you however he wants to, hushed curses escaping your occupied mouth, raking your nails down his arm. 

“good girl, yeahhhh, that’s it,” he grunts when you prod his skin harder, “you like diggin’ your nails into me, like it rough, huh? ‘course you do,” he stammers out when you clamp harder around him, your slick making everything slippery, “course you fucking do.”

with his fingers buried deep inside you and your lips wrapped around his other hand, rafe’s fully intoxicated, drunker than he can ever get. the sounds you make, he never wanted to taste something so bad, if it wasn’t for his stupid mask—

“take this thing off—" he grinds his hips into you, the rough fabric of his jeans pressing deliciously against your bare skin, teasing you, while his hand leaves your mouth to do nothing else but rip your panties apart.

you let out a huff, glancing down at what’s left of your underwear as he tosses it aside like nothing, already sliding his back up your thigh, “you’re paying for those.”

“whatever you want.”

you’re already occupied with his stupid belt, fingers quickly working to take the damn thing off, pawing at him to help. it’s only then he leaves your pussy unattended, settling his hold on your hips while you fumble with his jeans, unbuttoning them and snapping them open, his bulge straining against the fabric of his boxers. 

he grabs the underside of your thigh, picking your leg up and wrapping it around his waist, backing you two further into the wall, eyes gazing into yours, even though you can’t see him. why the fuck do your eyes look so familiar?

the tip of his dick kisses the skin of your pussy, the firm head bumping against your clit as he rubs himself against you, “happy?”

looking down, you watch his cock slide back and forth between your thighs, the friction making heat slowly rise in your core, warmth swarming in your chest. he’s so fucking big. you watch him, eyes half-lidded, your legs aching from the position, almost drooling from the sight alone. 

you don’t know how much longer you can let him tease you.

“so happy,” you nod, not tearing your attention from him.

“yeah?” he cocks his head to the side, brows furrowed, concentrating not to cum on the spot with the way you’re eating his cock alive just with your pretty little eyes, “you’re gonna let a stranger fuck you?”

rafe reaches down, teasingly rubbing the tip of his dick over your folds, tracing it over your clit a few times. you look up, lips curling into the most earth-shattering smirk.“i can always find someone el—"

you both groan when he slides into you with no warning, your warm walls enveloping him perfectly, sucking him in like a vice, a perfect tight fit. he pumps you so full, not waiting for any adjustment, your walls fluttering around his girth, thick tip slightly curved up from your position.

“fuck, fuck, fuckkk,” he drawls out, rolling his hips in tight circles, slowly fucking into you, dragging himself along your walls to learn what you like, “this pussy, oh—so good.”

your head falls back against the wall, sighing in pleasure. you want him to let go and beat your walls loose, especially when he looks so good doing it. you melt into him, body sagging, downright losing it with how easily he holds you up and still pounds relentlessly into you, your breathing picking up with his change of pace. 

he’s so strong.

“this good enough for ya?” he murmurs against your ear, picking on the way your body shudders, a scream for anyone outside that door to hear, “hmm? you like my voice, right here?”

“you’re gonna make me cum,” you feel yourself grip him harder, his thick cock stretching you open, dragging out moan after moan from your lips, “oh my god.”

it’s the sweetest torture, the way his pelvis smacks against your tummy with every thrust, barely even pulling out to roll back into you.

“such a fuckin’ slut, aren’t you?” he growls, “letting a stranger fuck you open—holy shit, holy shit,” he hisses, almost as if he’s in pain, when you teasingly whine your hips back into him, fluttering at the low sound he breaths right by your ear.  “shit, you’re squeezing—fuck.”

“you’re so b-big,” you wheeze at a rough thrust, hand coming down to press against his lower stomach.

“yeah? good enough for you, huh?” his hips increase in rhythm, rocking into you, his thrusts precise, beating against your g-spot with vigor, “takin’ it so good baby.”

by now you’re seeing stars in your vision from the white-hot pleasure shooting up your spine, smart mouth forgotten, “harder.”

“harder?” he’s fucking into you at such a pace you feel like he’s gonna split you in half, “don’t think you can take it.”

“please.”

it sounds too pretty coming out of your mouth. having a girl like you beg feeds his ego like nothing else. 

he buries himself so deep, his pelvis is pressed hard against the hilt of your mound, fingers coming down to pinch and roll your neglected clit between his fingers.

“fucking take it then.” rafe snaps his hips with every word, glaring into your teary eyes. 

you gasp, nodding your head frantically, too fucked out to even use your words properly when he bottoms out properly, leaving you entirely only to slam inside harder than before. you squeal, not expecting him to use his entire body strength to almost fold in half while you’re still standing.

“no one can h-hear you down here, go ahead,” your mouth runs dry as you feel his body helplessly pressing into yours, “lemme hear those pretty noises, c’mon, scream f’me.”

you’ve never moaned so loud in your life, hands coming up to tweak your nipples, him filling you to the brim, “w-where the fuck have you b-been?”

he chuckles, though it comes out strained, “right here,” he makes a point by ramming into your g-spot perfectly, “hold your leg up f’me.”

for once in your life, you do as you’re told while focusing on his clothed stomach, feeling it constrict with every deep breath he takes. 

“you look so pretty like this,” you hear him praise you, one of his hands sliding down the span of your back, coming down to wrap around your hair and forcing your head up, “could fuck you for hours.”

the tip of his dick is kissing right against your cérvix, “not stopping you.”

“yeah? that’s how good is it?” he laughs, “can’t believe stranger cock does it for you.”

you open your mouth to speak, probably to give him shit about how he wouldn’t stop teasing you, but your words run dry as you feel the familiar sensation of his fingers playing with your overstimulated clit. motherfucker.

your body tenses as he builds up the pressure, and a strangled symphony of your wails leaves your sore throat. it’s too much and not enough at the same time, the pressure of his cock as well as his fingers, he’s quite literally fucking you dumb. 

“nothin’ to say now, huh?”

the better it feels, the farther gone you’re in your mind, “s-shut the fuck up.”

if you were with someone else, it would bother you that your tits are quite literally out while he’s still dressed, besides the jeans pooling by his ankles, but that stupid black wife beater looks mouthwatering on him. 

somehow the outfit and the mask add to the allure, not knowing who’s behind it, but still letting him treat you like a rag doll. you’re bouncing down onto him, almost sniffling as your pussy’s still twitching and soaking, so close to your well-deserved orgasm.

“cum inside,” your head’s starting to sting from how bad you need to cum,“please.”

rafe swears he almost falls on his ass, “what?”

“inside,” you grit out, eyes closed in bliss, “want to feel you cum inside.”

he lets out a groan at the way you say it, “are you serious? oh fuck, what a little cock-slut.” he can’t help but let out a chuckle at your fucked-out state, lost in the chase of your own pleasure to care about how pitiful you look right now, “you’re gonna cum around me? go on,” he coos, kneading at the flesh of your thighs.

you nod, slipping out a high-pitched ‘mhm’, knowing this shit is about to hit you like a train. you arch yourself into him, whimpering lewdly and cutting small moon crescents into his shoulders with your long nails.

rafe feels like he’s lost all ability to fuck anyone else but you, growling at the filthy thoughts swimming through his mind, the urge to fill you up with his cum getting stronger as he enjoys watching you. 

a strained whimper escapes you as you lean forward to bury your head in his shoulder, groaning against the skin, “don’t stop.”

“n-never stopping, c’mon,” you swear you see stars while he’s slipping out curses and praises that you’re not even sure make sense. “holy shit, yeahh, fuck.”

he applies a little more pressure to your clit and that’s all it takes for you to be gone, your chest touching his, blinding flashes of paradise filling your vision as you leave reality, having it ripped away from you. 

your mouth is parted in the most beautiful oh shape he’s ever witnessed. tears are streaking down your eyes and he can’t help but be turned on by them.

“oh! fuck, fucking—” you squeeze your eyes shut, having no idea how you pulled the words out between continuous sobs that escape from you.

rafe feels like a fucking creep, he can’t take his eyes off you for the life of him, hips snapping animalistically into your pussy while he grunts, groans, and cries as he talks you through it, “that’sss itt, so good, so fuckin’ perfect.”

he tilts your chin up, forcing you to look at him, thumb brushing over your bottom lip. 

he’s chasing his orgasm while he watches yours; he all but whines when he releases inside of you, not slowing down in the slightest as he makes sure you take every drop. his hand comes down on your stomach forcing you back down with his python grip, feeling his bulge right there makes his eyes roll as his hand tightens on your waist. you’re still clenching and spasming as you milk him dry, “fuckin’ take it.”

his hips don’t let up, grinding into your core despite him already finishing inside of you. for another ten minutes.

five minutes later, you’re both a little hazy from the endorphin rush, still processing. once he pulls away, rafe feels a lazy grin stretching across his face, feeling more satisfied than ever. unlike the past hour, the room isn’t filled with your moans, but complete silence as you both try to breathe like normal people again, collecting yourselves, adjusting clothes, and then there’s an unspoken agreement that maybe, it’s time to see who’s behind the masks.

you fumble with the edges of the fabric, hesitating for a moment before finally pulling them off, unveiling each other’s faces.

you freeze, staring at him in disbelief.

“you gotta be fucking kiddin’ me,” you nearly burn a hole through his head, eyes narrowing with pure annoyance as you process this disaster, voice dripping with irritation, “what the fuck? rafe?”

he’s completely still, staring at you with his mouth wide open, eyes wide like he’s just seen a ghost—everything you’re hurling at him is going in and out his ears. the realization that he just spent the last hour fucking you is making him dumber. the girl he’d been thinking about, dreaming about, wanting more than he’d ever admit, even to himself.

the anger in your eyes, the annoyed way you’re crossing your arms and glaring at him—it’s so perfectly you. he’s watched you in class a hundred times, always stealing glances when you weren’t looking or cursing his ass off, catching little glimpses of your attitude that only made him want you more. 

but he’d never thought he’d get a moment like this. 

bless halloween.

“are you even listening to me?” you snap, catching his starstruck expression, waving a hand in front of his face. “hello? earth to cameron? stop looking at me like a puppy, this was a mistake.”

more than a mistake. you can’t believe you just fucked the reason why you didn’t want to come to the party in the very first place. 

and the worst part is that you’d do it again.

“i…i just…wow,” he breathes, “it’s really you.” he lets out an incredulous laugh, rubbing a hand over his jaw “can’t believe it.”

you groan, rolling your eyes and shaking your head in exasperation. “are you serious right now?

“can i eat you out?”

you blink, realizing you’ve been staring, “what?”

he takes a step closer, filling the small space between you. you swear the sound of his next words drag a whimper from your throat, “can i eat you out?”

you nearly choke to death as his hand ghost near your waist, the barest brush of contact, sending sparks dancing across your skin, “right now?”

rafe leans down to your size, eager to get on his knees and taste you.

“why not?”

well, fucking damnit.

dont go fucking strangers with ghostface masks at random parties

[doodlenoodleboi]

Sally face head cannons

Authors note: If you don’t specify I’m gonna pick for you most of the time it’s gonna be headcanons, they tend to be easier and quicker to write.

TW: Not professional, might have misspellings and improper grammar, I just do this for fun. Nsfw, mentions of drugs, stoner Larry, Larry is 2 years older then Sal, some non accurate writing I haven’t watched or played Sally face in years but remember the general plot. Btw when this wrote Sal is 17-19

SFW

◦ Sal doesn’t have the best relationship with his father.

◦ Sal tends to get misgendered a lot to the point he doesn’t even correct people he couldn’t care less anyways and hates unnecessary confrontation.

◦ Sal keeps his glass eye on his bedside table and one nice he actually drunk out of the cup.

◦ Sal isn’t the best at saving money when it comes to video games. He doesn’t spend his money on much In high school besides games for his game boy and other systems.

◦ Sal loves rock music and listens to music whenever he can, he owns an old stereo along with a walk man and mp3 player. (Keep in mind his teen years are in the 90’s)

◦ Along with his hair Sal also ventured in make up in skincare.

◦ Because half of his face being disfigured he tried his best to at least look normal with make up and help it heal better with skincare.

◦ Sal has the worst split ends and uneven layers because he never actually had his hair cut properly he always has done it himself.

◦ Sal is rather geeky when it comes down to it, owning as much technology as he could by in the 90’s.

◦ Sal is most comfortable showing his face to Larry among anyone else almost like a big brother to him of sorts.

◦ Sal gets rather socially awkward when it comes to people liking him so you would have to be in his friend group to have a chance of a relationship or some established connection before hand.

◦ Once you and Sal become friends as he’s comfortable with you expect things like him painting your nails and rocking out to music

◦ If he does later show romantic interest in you before he shows you his face he will be anxious about what you’ll think about him after he shows you.

◦ He’ll even teach you how to play his guitar if you’re interested.

NSFW

F

◦ Sal Is obviously a virgin it’s hard to get close to him let alone take of his mask so you’ll have to have patience to get to this stage.

◦ For-play could be longer then the actual sex for the first time and he might back out from nervousness before you guys can even start.

◦ Sal is not a shy guy maybe introverted but not shy but moments like this make him extremely vulnerable so he’s flustered and embarrassed.

◦ If you find the courage to kiss him he has his mask on he’s whipped. He would be a flustered and embarrassed mess and he might even tell Larry about how exciting it was. You were probably his first kiss as well.

◦ Sal would be around 5 inches 5.5 hard (let’s be realistic here ain’t nobody taking much past that.) Just enough to reach the back of you’re and make you gag.

◦ Sal even if he’s isn’t pornhub but still likes to prep you, after all sex is a rather sacred thing so he tries his best to treat you with care even with his inexperience.

◦ He would probably be a nervous teenager at the back of Spencer’s trying to find lube (that doesn’t get used) and other things trying not to be seen. Covering up this purchases with a rock album or something of equal value.

◦ Sal is big on after care asking you how it was if it wasn’t obvious, he would be nervous after and still not realizing he actually did that.

◦ Sal isn’t big on giving hickeys but he doesn’t mind being especially on his jawline and neck. When talking to his friends he will just say it a bruise or injury just that’s always been there. But it’s almost obvious that it’s not.

◦ Once you’ve done it once he’s nervous to ask for you to do it again so he does enjoy make out session to keep him down.

◦ Sal didn’t heavily masturbate before hand honestly rarely doing it at all until he had sex once and now that’s all he thinks about ever since.

◦ He loves laying kisses against you when doing it but never hickeys as he’s a bit scared of hurting you.

◦ He holds your hands during sex for comfortability.

◦ His favorite positions would probably be missionary and cowgirl he’s a pretty vanilla switch.

◦ Mostly a service top and a shy bottom, it’s not like he’s generally shy he just gets embarrassed seeing you on top but overtime he gets used to it.

Sorry i accidentally deleted the request!

[mythos-writes]

Revenge

Rhea Ripley x Wrestler! Reader

Plot: With Rhea gone because of injury, leaving (Y/N) alone in the Judgement Day, and the new target for Liv Morgan. But when Rhea returns from injury, all is fair in love and war

Word Count: 914

Warnings: None, just an angry Rhea Ripley :)

Main Masterlist

WWE Masterlist

Since Rhea was sidelined after Wrestlemania, things slowly started to fall apart within Judgment Day. With Damian struggling to keep the group together, Finn and JD winning the Tag team belts was amazing. But having Dom running around and fooling around with Liv, was driving a spike deep into the heart of the Judgement Day. 

But the person taking Rhea’s absence the worst was (Y/N). Failing to get the women’s title after Rhea relinquished it, dealing with the group, and Liv bullying her was starting to get too much for her. The boys tried not to let Liv near her, but once Dom spent a lot of time with her, keeping her distance was getting harder. 

(Y/N) was getting ready for her match against her friend, Dakota Kai. Usually, Rhea would have come out with her, but because of the injury, she had been flying solo. 

“There you are, I’ve been looking for you everywhere,” Damian’s voice booms in the small empty hallway. “Are you ok?” he asks. 

“Yeah. This has been one of the only places that Liv can’t find me to harass me,” she says, looking down at her boots. She never likes showing how much Liv affects her. 

Damian sighs, placing a hand on her shoulder. He tries his best to get Liv away from her, and away from Dom, but he can only do so much. 

“Do you want me to accompany you to the ring tonight?” he asks. (Y/N)’s heart warms at the offer, missing someone in her corner for matches.  

“I think I’ll be fine. Thanks though. If I need you, I’ll send an arrow to the entrance,” she says while mimicking Damian's archer taunt. He lets out a breathy chuckle at her actions. 

“What are we laughing at?” Liv’s voice breaks their moment. 

“Um, nothing important,” (Y/N) says, becoming shy—Damian moves to protect her from the Women’s champion. 

“I was just talking to her before her match, which is next so if you excuse us,” Damian says, grabbing (Y/N) wrist and pushing their way past Liv. Once they got out of the hallway and away from Liv, she let out a sigh of relief. 

“Thanks, Damian,” she mumbles as they walk towards the gorilla.

“You know I got you,” he says while pulling her into his chest. 

“(Y/R/N) and Dakota Kai to the gorilla. Match in 2 minutes,” The voice calls out over speakers. 

“You ready?” He asks. She sends him a smile. 

“I’m ready. But the question is are they ready for me?” 

“Yes,” Dakota replies, getting a chuckle from the two members of TJD. Dakota’s music blasts as she leaves the gorilla. 

Damian places his hands on her shoulders, grounding her again. Damian has stepped up a lot to be there for (Y/N) since her girlfriend has been out. Rhea has also been in constant contact because she knew that (Y/N) wouldn’t have been 100% honest with her. After all, (Y/N) wouldn’t want her to come rushing back when she wasn’t ready. 

“You got this,” Damian reassures her before her music hits. She sends him one last smile, taking a deep breath, before walking through the curtain and out to the waiting crowd. (Y/N)  rocking black pleather shorts with a leather garter belt. Her top was a simple pleather wrestling top with a cut-up Judgement Day shirt over it. She made her way to the ring, ready to get this small match over with. 

Once the bell rings, (Y/N) was dominating the match. They had some good back and forths but (Y/N) keeps the upper hand. She could hear the growing noise coming from ringside, but she chose to ignore the noise. (Y/N) hits her finisher (a version of the Walls of Jericho), securing her win. Dakota rolls out of the ring, refs making sure she is ok.

As she was processing the win, something hard hit her in the back of the head. (Y/N) is looking up to the rafters and Liv Morgan’s face comes into her view. Liv gives her an overly ‘friendly’ wave. (Y/N) slowly rolls off of her back, still holding her head.

As (Y/N) slowly gets up, Liv grabs a steel chair and is ready to lay a beating on her. When Demons in your Dreams belt out through the arena. The crowd cheers, Liv and (Y/N) couldn’t believe it. Liv scampers out of the ring like her life depends on it while Rhea charges the ring, wanting to get her hands on her placeholder. 

Rhea made sure that Liv was nowhere close to the ring before she turns her full attention to (Y/N).

“Rhea?” (Y/N) questions. Rhea moves her hair out of her face, getting a better look at her girlfriend.

“I’m here love,” she replies. Refs came over to see if extra assistance was needed.

“I thought you were still out?”

“I’m not 100% clear but I couldn’t sit at home anymore and watch you get hurt at the hands of her,” Rhea was still enraged at what had been happening. “I’m also gonna have a chat with a certain Dirty Dom after getting you to the medics,” she says while helping (Y/N) out of the ring.

“I’m happy you’re back,” she whispers for only Rhea to hear. She smiles down to her partner and places a kiss on her forehead.

“Me too babe. Me too.”

[nicverse]

crawling back to you

where jason can't stop coming back to you every night.

jason todd x journalist!reader

warnings: small mention of blood and wounds. just a little bit of fluff.

You were too busy writing your next article about the last incident in Gotham, too focused on the sound of your fingers against the keyboard that you didn’t even notice Jason’s body slipping behind you, resting his body on your couch.

It had been a long, long night. He was tired and probably didn’t have a good night's sleep for weeks, so as soon as his head touched the soft material of your couch, he dozed off.

His own apartment had been long forgotten since the first time he entered yours. Yours was full of life, small little cosy lights instead of the cold ones he had, lots of books and music records you loved to play when you were cooking. Everything was so nice and warm, like you. Jason always told himself he kept coming back to your place because he just loved the good decoration it had, but mostly, he loved the person who was living there.

He really loved the pretty thing that was sitting in front of him, quickly writing on her laptop.

You didn’t notice his presence until you stood up from your desk and saw his body passed out on your couch. Your heart jumped in your chest as your soul left your body for a few seconds, you were not yet used to his late night appearances in your house. You walked very slowly towards his face, gently removing his mask as your fingers slowly caressed his face. He had a few deep cuts but the worst one was in his brown; an ugly, deep cut that started to bleed a little.

You went for your aid kit. It wouldn’t be the first time you stitched him up and it certainly wouldn’t be the last. Your fingers lingered against his skin carefully, starting to clean his wounds.

Jason was a light sleeper, so he noticed your presence as soon as you touched his skin, but he didn’t open his eyes. He felt your fingers taking care of his face so carefully as if he would break. His heart started to pound like a horse running, so hard that he was afraid that you would feel it too.

Your hand was a rose petal cleaning the skin of a killer, and the worst part was that he didn’t even flinch. He just closed his eyes and relaxed in the warmth of your body close to his. Jason never thought he was worthy of so much love, especially you, a broken body like his would never be able to get better.

But you made him believe otherwise. From the first time you took him in your arms and cleaned his wounds he knew deep down that maybe there was hope for him to be better.

"I know you are awake, Jason," you murmured with a chuckle, patching up his wounds. "You're the worst light sleeper I've ever met," Jason opened his eyes to find your pretty face looking down on his as your body knelt beside your couch, "You don't have to patch me up, you know," he replied, biting his cheek to stop the smile that threatened to appear on his face.

He never wanted you to stop patching him up, though. Every night, he would crawl back to you and seek your warmth.

"I know, but I want to," you said, fixing the hair that covered his face. Your eyes pinned in his, no, you didn’t look at the scars in his body, you never looked at him with fear or anger but it was always love and affection.

He wanted to kiss you so badly, to hold you close and never let go, to feel your soft embrace melt into his.

But he couldn't. He didn’t want you to get involved in his world or in his life, not because he didn’t love you, it was because he loved you so much that he wanted to keep you away from his problems— from him.

“Just sleep a bit, Jason, your eyebags make you look like a raccoon” you passed him a blanket, his favorite “could say the same ‘bout you, princess” Jason responded as you rolled your eyes.

"Good night, Red Hood," you said as your body disappeared in the door to your bedroom.

Maybe he should be keeping away from you, but he didn’t want to— not anymore.

—there's something about this type of jason, he loves you buy is too afraid to fuck everything up. yet he can't stop craving your love!

—this is something i took out of the fic im writing about jason x journalist!reader and I love these two already

—i'd love to do requests! feel free to ask them <3

[fandom-imagines-stories]

The New Regular

Dr. John Carter x Reader

Words: 1868

Summary: The bartender of the hospital staff’s go to place meets a new, and desperately in need of a drink, doctor. 

Notes: Funnily enough, the first person I started writing for for ER is Doug Ross (which I will finish and post at some point, because God I love George Clooney) But I thought this short and sweet one would be a nice refresher for all of you getting into the show after the traumatising experience of The Pitt. Enjoy! 

-

It tended to be pretty quiet this time of night. The only ones left were night-shifters and drunks from earlier who hadn’t figured out a way home yet. You didn’t mind, though. This was your favorite part of the night, when everything started dying down and the music got slow. It was an old Billy Joel when he walked in, still in his scrub shirt and hair sticking up at every angle. 

You finished cleaning the glass in your hand and set it aside, watching the clearly newish doctor stumble his way up to the bar with the exhaustion of a just-ended shift weighing his shoulders down. 

“You look awful,” you said, giving him a small smile. “What can I get you?” 

“Something strong,” he muttered without looking up. His eyes are glued to the bar in front of him, and it isn’t hard to see that it’s been a rough day. 

It’s a look you’ve come to understand well, being the closest bar to County General. Whenever a doctor has had a long, hard shift, you could usually find them sitting across from you, hoping for something to ease the stress away. This guy was different, though. You could tell he was new because he still had this look to him, like he was exhausted but still ready to go right back in if they asked him to. 

Plus, you didn’t know any cynical old doctors who were this cute. 

You slid the drink you titled ‘Medicine’ across the bar towards him. You poured yourself one too for the hell of it. “Physician heal thyself.” 

The cute doctor laughed humorlessly and picked up the glass, but didn’t drink. 

“That bad, huh?” You sipped on yours, leaning on your elbows against the bar.

He snorted. “How much time do you have?”

Scanning the room, you found the one person who’d still been ordering. “Bertie, I’m cutting you off!” You shouted at the older man.

“What? I’m not even half-” He started to protest, but fell face first onto the wooden surface. 

The young doctor stood up, but you put a hand on his arm. 

“He’s fine.”

Sure enough, a great snore echoed through the quiet space. 

He sat back down. “Do you get a lot of hospital workers in here this time of night?” He asked. 

“Sometimes. Depends on how bad the shift is. Most of the time, it’s patients coming through. As if they still have the money to spend after visiting you guys.” You took another drink and let the burn coat your tongue. 

Finally, he did the same, though he made a bit of a face when he tasted it. “Jesus, what is in that?”

“You said you wanted something strong,” you snickered. God, he really was cute.

He drank some more, visibly trying to keep his reaction to a minimum, and set the glass back down. 

“I’m John, by the way,” he said. “Not that you, um, asked.”

“Y/N.” Pulling up the stool you kept behind the bar, you sat across from him. “So, are you going to tell me what’s got you coming to this joint, John or would you prefer to brood in silence like some of the other doctors?” 

You’d been trying to get Doug Ross to open up to you for years to no avail. The man was more closed off than the toughest safe, using his charm and flirting to cover up his deeper issues. He liked to tell you that you didn’t need that psych degree you were studying for; it seemed you were already practicing just fine.

“I lost a patient,” John answered, his voice going quiet. 

“Your first?” You asked gently. 

He shook his head. John ran a hand down his face and downed the rest of his drink. The mix of emotion and liquor turned his eyes glossy. 

“Doesn’t make it easier, though, does it?” He said. His hand went over his face again, then again through his messy brown hair. “I mean, it feels like for every person we help, there’s another going to the morgue. It just makes you wonder what the point is, you know? Like, why am I even trying? Why are any of us?” 

You leaned down so you could look him in the eye, his face still trained down at the bar. “It sounds like you could use another, doctor.”

His eyes flicked up to meet yours. A faint smile teased his lips. “Maybe just a beer this time.” 

“You got it.” You opened up a bottle and set it in front of him. Sitting across the bar felt too unnatural, so you abandoned your chair and walked around to the barstool next to him. “So tell me about yourself, John.”

“Hm?” His gaze still had that distant, faded look to it. 

“You said you weren’t sure why you were there. You didn’t see the point,” you said. “Well, tell me why you started, and maybe that will help you see.” 

“Oh, I, um, I don’t-”

“What’s the first thing that comes to mind when you think about wanting to be a doctor?” 

“How much my family hates it,” he blurted. He laughed, surprised at himself. 

“A rebel then?” You teased, nudging his shoulder. It was just nice to see him come back to himself a bit. 

He shook his head. “That’s not it, though. Or, at least, not the only reason.” A new kind of distance takes over his features. One that inspired a bit of awe. “I want to help people.” 

There’s a pull in your chest, one that you have to push down to keep yourself from leaning over and just smacking a kiss to those pretty, pouting lips. 

“How very noble,” you teased instead. 

He snorted. “Watch me get vomited on a couple of times, then you won’t think so.” 

“A humble doctor.” You raised a brow. “That’s got to be a new one for me.” 

“Not just that,” he grimaced, which broke into a smile. “I’m studying to be a surgeon.”

You leaned forward and ran your fingers through the front of his hair, making a point to narrow your eyes and huff. 

“What are you doing?” He laughed, but leaned into your touch. 

“I’m looking for a horn,” you said. “You’ve got to be a unicorn or something.” 

John pulled away and shook out the poof you’d left in his hair. He didn’t even look like the same person who sat down, the beaming smile on his face lighting up every corner of the room. 

The next time he came in was better. He’d saved someone that day-a little boy who’d drowned. It was a close call, but he was going to be okay. Just listening to him go on and on, it wasn’t hard to see that John Carter was exactly where he was meant to be. 

The next time he was down again, but you were able to get at least one smile that night. 

Every week, he came in. Sometimes he didn’t even get a drink, but he’d still leave you a tip at the end of the night. You told him he didn’t have to, but he never listened. One night in particular, when the bar was absolutely slammed, you didn’t get to talk to him as much, but he stayed anyway. 

“I think you’ve got yourself a shadow,” Megan, your fellow bartender that night, smirked at you. “Either that or he can be your first patient when you become a real shrink.” 

“God, I hope not,” you sighed, overly dramatic. She looked at you with a quirked brow and questioning look. A grin spread across your face. “Then I couldn’t ask him out.” 

She gave you another look that said ‘Fair enough’ and hustled off to help her next customer. 

John stayed until the crowd died down despite how exhausted his own shift had made him. There was something about being around you, every time you smiled or took a second to come talk to him that just made him feel awake. As other patrons filtered in and out and in and out again, he stayed. 

He swirled his club soda around his glass and watched you wipe down the last of the tables. John wasn’t sure how long he’d been coming to the bar. A couple weeks at least. He’d kicked himself more than once for leaving without asking you out. He always ended the night by laying his cash on the bar and telling you goodnight, looking back through the gaps in the neon sign to see if you were watching him leave. 

“So, Dr. Carter, is tonight the night?” You asked, leaning over the bar with a smirk. 

His eyes went wide and his cheeks turned red. Could you read minds? Were you that good at your psych degree?

“W-what?” 

“Are you finally going to let me make you another surprise drink?” You asked, as if there was no other possible meaning to your words. 

“Oh, um…” His cheeks only continued to redden. Sometimes he could still taste the, um, strong, concoction you first made him and the idea of having anything like it gave him a pre-drinking hangover already. 

You laughed, loving the way his face changed colors when you got him flustered. Might as well keep going. 

“I’m just kidding,” you said. “I want to know if you’re finally going to ask me out or if I’m going to have to do it myself, Dr. Carter.” 

If you thought his face was red before…

“I-um-I was just waited-oh, uh, I-” He couldn't remember the last time he was this much at a loss for words. “That would be-” John forced himself to swallow and take a breath so he could attempt to stop looking like a total idiot. “Do you want to get drinks sometime?” 

You glanced around you at the various bottles and liquor you were surrounded by every day. 

“Maybe dinner?” You suggested. 

“Right. Yes. Dinner. Of course. Dinner.” He ran his fingers through his hair, fluffing it up again. You waited. He stared. You waited some more, smile creeping wider and wider across your face while you waited for him to get it. “Oh. Yes. Do you want to get dinner? With me? Tomorrow night?”

You leaned across the bar and kissed his cheek. “I’d love to.” 

That grin of his lit up and it felt like the whole dark bar brightened with it. 

“Great! I can, uh, I can pick you up at 8? There’s a place close to mine, it’s not the fanciest, but it has some really good chicken parm and-”

“You’ve already sold me on it, doctor. Leave some to be a surprise,” you teased. You flashed him one last wink and started back towards Megan at the other end of the bar to finish closing up for the night. 

She glanced at you over her shoulder and you caught a knowing look in her eyes. “I take it we’re going to be seeing even more of him then?”

You wiped down a spot you’d already cleaned and watched the young, handsome doctor watching you. 

“Yeah,” you said, blush tinging your smile. “I hope so.” 

[simplyluunaa]

˙⊹ ੈ✰[Finding You Almost Dead]✰ ੈ⊹˙

-ˏˋ. rules + masterlist ˊˎ-

Fandom: Danganronpa

Characters: Aoi Asahina, Kiyotaka Ishimaru, Kyoko Kirigiri, Mondo Owada, Sakura Ogami, Genocider Syo, Toko Fukawa

Warnings: !!NOT SPOILER FREE!! Set in the killing game, some slight angst, and mentions of blood and injury, but no death.

Other: Established relationship, though it's not super obvious. Also, this one is long!! (also also don’t ask about the logistics okay I didn’t think too hard about the cannon deaths timeline)

A/N: The motivation for this one was crazy I banged this out in just a couple of hours. Anyways!! Please excuse any mischaracterizations, but if you want any other characters feel free to request them!! (Not just the first game!! I write for any of them + the anime!!)

˚₊·—̳͟͞͞♡⟢Kiyotaka Ishimaru

When he found you, you were in the fourth-floor music room.

You had lacerations all along your body, unconscious in a small puddle of your own blood

He and Mondo were together, and when they saw the door to the music room ajar, they decided to investigate, but once Taka saw your body, he just screamed, which attracted the others

Kyoko quickly realizes the lack of body discovery announcement and checks your pulse, stating that you’re alive

He Mondo carries you to the nurse’s office

He cries like…so much

He and Mondo stay with you in the nurse's office and patch you up, Mondo kinda acting as a guard dog, not letting anyone near you, and Taka doing his best to keep himself and Mondo calm while they wait for you to wake up

Once you do, he’s once again, in tears

He’s barely able to resist the urge to pull you into a hug, instead, he grabs your hands

He’s just so happy that you’re okay!!

He’s too relieved that you’re okay that he forgets to ask if you remember who attacked you, so Mondo does that

When you say you don’t, his worry increases ten-fold

What if they don’t find out who did it? What if they attack you again while you’re still healing and end up actually killing you? What if they attack someone else?

Insists on having a non-official class trail in the dining hall, and Kyoko ends up taking the lead as most people didn’t investigate because you hadn’t died

The one who attacked you was Genocider Syo

Why? You were ‘flirting’ with Byakuya

You laughed at him because he made a stupid face after Makoto said something he disagreed with. 

She cornered you and cut you up, but intentionally didn’t kill you and avoided lethal areas

Toko didn’t know but doesn’t feel bad

Syo gets shunned, so by proxy, Toko does as well

Though they didn’t interact with the others, other than Byakuya, who doesn’t treat her any different than normal so…

⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊☽ ◯ ☾₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆

˚₊·—̳͟͞͞♡⟢Mondo Owada

When he found you, you were in the second-floor pool area

You had one stab wound in your abdomen, the knife lying next to you on the ground, you were unconscious in a pool of your own blood

Hina arranged for everyone to meet up at the pool to hopefully have some fun and get their mind off of the killing game for a while, so Mondo and a group of a few other guys were the ones to find you

He starts yelling at everyone around, which causes the girls to go investigate as well

Taka is the only one able to calm him down enough to tell him that you’re still breathing

It’s then he takes action, scooping you up and booking it to the nurses' office

Taka doesn’t yell at him for running in the halls for once

He tries to patch you up himself, but he has limited knowledge of how to do all this in the first place, and his hands shaking and his vision being clouded with tears aren’t helping either

So Taka does it for him while he holds your hands and cleans the blood off of you

Doesn’t want to let anyone close to you, other than Taka and maybe Kyoko, but even then he watching her closely

Does ask Kyoko to find out who did this

Also, he’s like…really pissed

Like infuriated

Swears he’ll kill whoever hurt you

When you wake up, he instantly scoops you up in a hug, accidentally squeezing your wound and hurting you

Almost drops you when you wince

He is hesitant to touch you at all after that because he hurt you!!

Of course, he asks if you remember who attacked you

When you say you don’t, he feels his temper kinda flare

He’s not mad at you, of course, but at the person who had hurt you

The one who attacked you was Leon Kuwata

Claims it was in self-defense because he thought you were a killer

In actuality, you just turned a corner and he was there with a knife, and tried to kill you!!

When it gets revealed that Leon did it, Sakura has to hold Mondo back so he doesn’t kill him

Leon is shunned, and Mondo is weary of everyone but Taka

Doesn’t let you out of his sight for a long while

⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊☽ ◯ ☾₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆

˚₊·—̳͟͞͞♡⟢Aoi Asahina

When she found you, you were in the Science Lab Storage Room

You had a large impact wound on your head, blood pouring from the wound, and you, of course, were unconscious

When Aoi spotted you, she wasted no time rushing over to you

So she finds out that you’re still alive very quickly

She scoops you up and rushes you over to the nurse's office, tears streaming down her face

Thankfully, whoever attacked you hadn’t cracked your skull, just broke the skin

Once you’re safe in the nurse's office, and she’s patching you up the others arrive, having seen her running through the halls with your body in her arms

Sakura is the one who comforts her the most, a few of the others go to the scene to see what had happened.

At the scene, they find a wooden mallet, after some inspection Kyoko confirms it was the weapon, the size matching the wound on you

Once you’re patched up, she asks Sakura to keep an eye on you and she asks Kyoko and Makoto to help her question everyone to see if they can find out who did it

Byakuya would probably also help, but only because he doesn’t want to be attacked next and they need to find out who the dangerous ones are

After a while, Hina checks back in on you, to see that you’re awake!

She gently hugs you, careful to avoid the wound, and cries, saying how thankful she is that you’re okay

Asks if you can remember what exactly happened

When you can’t she feels bad that she wasn’t there to protect you

The one who attacked you was Hifumi Yamada

He had attacked you under Celeste’s instruction (Like the third trial of the game), but he hit too soft and in the wrong spot, so you ended up surviving

Hifumi would fess up almost immediately, spilling everything he knows about the plan and why

They both get shunned, Celeste refusing to acknowledge him after that

⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊☽ ◯ ☾₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆

˚₊·—̳͟͞͞♡⟢Kyoko Kirigiri

When she found you, you were in the second-floor hallway

You were slumped against a wall, in an out-of-the-way area, with a few bruises on your body, but most importantly was a large impact wound on the back of your head, a splatter of blood on the wall showing where your head had been slammed against it

She very quickly notices that you’re not dead, and may or may not let out a sigh of relief

Thankfully, a few people are nearby, namely Makoto, Sakura, and Hina

Calmly asks Sakura to carry you to the nurse’s office, and for Hina to accompany you to help patch you up

She’s calm, mostly because she noticed the wound was only skin-deep

She stays to examine the scene, because even though you hadn’t died, you almost did, and she wants to figure out who attacked you

For everyone’s safety…but noticeably yours

It’s harder than investigating deaths, funnily enough, but she is able to gather some clues from the scene and starts to question the others

Once you wake up, she’s by your side as soon as she hears

One part to comfort you, another to see if you knew who had attacked you

You didn’t, but that’s okay, she's a detective, she’ll figure it out

If you want her to stay with you she will, but if you don’t mind either way, she’s going back to questioning the others

The one who attacked you was Mondo Owada

It was a heat-of-the-moment attack, and he didn’t even realize the damage he’d caused

He’d cave the second Kyoko put the smallest amount of pressure, apologizing profusely

Since he seems genuinely remorseful, half of the others are only slightly weary, while the other half shun him

Kyoko will only forgive him if you do, if you don’t however, she won’t either

⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊☽ ◯ ☾₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆

˚₊·—̳͟͞͞♡⟢Sakura Ogami

When she found you, you were in Classroom 1-A

You had a stab wound on your shoulder, and another one in your side, the knife nowhere to be found

She and Hina had been wandering around together, but after catching a glimpse of blood they busted into the room, both shocked to see your body covered in blood and two stab wounds

Sakura is almost too stunned to move until Hina sees your chest move as you breathe

Sakura scoops you up, she and Hina are silent as they take you to the nurse's office

They patch you up, also in silence

Sakura is seething, though (You remember when Hina got attacked by Syo? Yeah, like that but even more since you’re so badly hurt)

Almost crushed the bottle of medicine she was holding

Once you’re properly patched up, she requests a moment alone

Even though you’re asleep, she grabs your hands and kisses the backs of them, quietly promising to not let any more harm come to you

She checks in on you frequently and stays for long periods of time, just in case you wake up

You thankfully wake up when she’s around, and she’s right by your side

Again, gently takes your hands

After a long stretch of silence, she asks if you remember what happened, or who attacked you

When you say you don’t, she doesn’t press or ask any more questions related to that

Will give you a protein shake

The one who attacked you was Sayaka Maizono

She had meant to kill you to escape, but stabbing people is much harder and much more traumatizing than she had anticipated

She gets shunned, even by Makoto

⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊☽ ◯ ☾₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆

˚₊·—̳͟͞͞♡⟢Genocider Syo

She actually didn’t find you first, Toko did, but Toko fainted and Syo fronted, finding you in the third-floor Rec room

Freaks out, and runs into the hallway, chasing the nearest person down, putting her scissors to their neck, and threatening them

This person happens to be Makoto, and not far behind him is Kyoko, so the three went back to your body

Kyoko informs her that, while you aren’t dead, you will be if they don’t act quick

So, she scoops you up and runs you to the nurse's office

She tries to patch you up but doesn’t really know how resulting in loose bandages and her panicking over your body

Makoto and Kyoko are not too long after, and they help, though not without Syo watching their every move and threatening them if they make a wrong move

After they're done patching you up though, she makes them take at least three steps back

Stays in the nurse's office until you wake up, keeping everyone away

She even goes as far as to threaten Byakuya

She takes every step possible to keep herself from sneezing or passing out, so Toko doesn’t front

When you wake up, she grabs your hands and smiles in an oddly tender moment

Then asks if you remembers who attacked you, and then follows up by asking if she can kill them

When you say you don’t, she offers to torture everyone until she finds the attacker

Thankfully you don’t have to answer that, as Kyoko comes in, saying she knows who did it

The one who attacked you was Byakuya Togami

You’d ended up preventing a murder, getting everyone to get along, and ignore the motive this time

He thought the game was getting boring, so he took matters into his own hands

He hadn’t meant to injure you so severely, but he figured he hadn’t killed you, and you probably wouldn’t die from blood loss, so he left you there

Syo was furious and chased Byakuya down, Sakura and Hina having to hold her back so she wouldn’t kill him

Instead, she hurls insults at him, and the next few times she fronts, she tries to kill him all over again

⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊☽ ◯ ☾₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆

˚₊·—̳͟͞͞♡⟢Toko Fukawa (This one is a continuation of Syo’s!!)

She wouldn't front again until after it was revealed that Byakuya was the one who attacked you

When she next fronts, she’s confused

Firstly, she thinks you’re dead

You’re not, thank god

Secondly, you got attacked

Not very good

And thirdly, the person who attacked you Byakuya?

Toko immediately starts hurling insults at him, much like Syo had

She wonders how she’d ever liked someone so rotten

She hadn’t been obsessed with him for a while, but she still held a lot of respect for him up until now

Byakuya gets shunned, but he hadn’t interacted with the others much before this, so it doesn’t affect him too badly

The only real difference is that Toko insults him every time she sees him

⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊☽ ◯ ☾₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆

[leaawrites]

All I got is you

Eli Hewson x fem!reader

Summary: In which, they both got what they wanted for so long. Each other.

Warnings: pining, fluff,

Wordcount: 1.2k

Masterlist

The apartment was quiet only the clutter of the dishes in the sink keeping his thoughts from drifting too far away from reality. The bottle grew warm in his hands as Eli was sat on the couch, watching the dark screen of the TV. Soft music was playing in the background. Grounding him for a second in time before the morning would come again and the stress of the new album would return.

His eyes flew over the room. The dirty plates were cleaned and put away hours ago, when everyone was still around. They’d done it together. It was one of the first conversation they had that evening, besides the usual greetings.

It was a get together, a quiet evening, to find peace in all the chaos and catch up with old friends who were left behind the last couple of months because of the album. She had offered to stay a bit longer than the others to help him clean up and then he got a text from Bobby: ‘It’s your chance, man’

Sighing and throwing his head back at the thought of what this meant now, Eli let his eyes wander further. Her shoes were still messily thrown on the floor in front of the door. Footsteps came nearer and soon enough, she plopped down next top him. Right in the middle of his vision.

“You alright, rock star?” she asked, giggling slightly at his tired look and lulled back head.

“All’s good,” he answered, not looking away from her.

“What’s on your mind then?” The room went quiet and for a moment he thought that dying would be better than speaking in that moment. So much could go wrong, so much could fall apart. But Rob’s words still hung in his head and the other lads agreement were slow backing vocals he couldn’t get rid off.

‘She likes you too, man,’ Rob said on one late evening in the studio as they tried figuring out a section of a song.

‘How would you know?’

‘Talked to her the other night and well, she said, that you were way too cool for her. I guess that say enough.’

‘What you talking about?’ Ryan came in just as Eli was about to answer and dismiss Rob’s words. Sitting down next to them with fresh coffee in his hands, Josh carrying in the other two cups.

‘Eli fancies Y/n and he doesn’t want the possibility to be true that she likes him back,’ Rob answered, making Eli groan in frustration of his words. They were true, still haunting.

‘Oh, she definitely likes you,’ Josh cut into the conversation. ‘Why else would she willingly spent two months on tour with us?’

‘Because we’re all friends?’ Eli suggested.

‘Because she wants you to notice her as more than that,’ Ryan corrected him.

‘Think about it,’ they all said before going back to the song, but his mind was still stuck there.

He was still stuck in the same conversation as she sat down next to him, watching with curiosity of what was going through his head, when all he was thinking about was her. She wanted it to know too, when she couldn’t forget the way they laughed together earlier that evening and how he didn’t ask her to leave yet.

It had to be something, right?

It had to mean something more than boredom to him, right?

“Do you ever -” Eli started, looking away and down to his fingers. “Have you ever thought of doing the most stupid thing in your life that you hope you won’t regret?”

“How do you mean that?”

“Nothing, it’s stupid,” he pushed the question away.

“No, it’s not. What are you talking about?”

“What if one person is all I have in life but I don’t even know if I have that person fully?”

“You’re in love?” she guessed, averting her gaze from him now too. If he was to confess, she didn’t want to see his face while thinking about it. She couldn’t see the happiness in his eyes if it wasn’t because of her.

“I guess, yes. I just-” he swallowed hard like the words he wanted to say were ought to be put away, still they came tumbling out seconds later. “I can’t stop thinking about what life would be like if- if I got to call her more than a friend.”

“We’ve been friends for so long and I don’t think I’ve ever seen you like that before,” she joked, nudging his shoulder and trying to lighten the tension that hung between them.

“They say the prey is always the most oblivious.”

Silence.

He was met with nothing but silence and it seemed like they were back at the beginning. Back then, when she was too shy to talk to him properly and every time he tried to make conversation it wouldn’t last longer than a few sentences.

“What?”

“All I got is you and I don’t know what to think of it,” he said, turning to her. Cursing himself for trusting Rob when seeing the shocked look all over her face. “What do you think about it?”

“I’d call it old news,” she started, heart thumbing in her chest, “but I wouldn’t mind being called more than your friend.”

“Old news, huh?” He laughed, recalling the conversation once more, laughing at the version of him who was too afraid to admit anything to even his closest friends. “Well, new headline: What about I call you mine from now on?” Winking at the end of her sentence and cringing at his own words, but it came to his head and at that moment he wasn’t afraid of saying anything anymore.

Doubling over in response and laughing at his attempt of flirting like they were strangers in a bar, she couldn’t help herself but lean forward. Closer to him.

As out of instinct, Eli wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her into his lap as he started laughing too. Holding her close and letting himself fall into the melody of her happiness. He couldn’t believe himself, but it worked better than he could’ve imagined. Because now, she was laying in his lap, looking up at him with the biggest smile he had ever seen directed towards him.

“I wouldn’t mind being yours,” she whispered, cradling his neck and pulling him down. Closer to her face, closer to her lips. Until they met and all fear was forgotten between them.

It was just them now, in an empty apartment late at night with the whole city asleep. Letting themself love the other uncontrollably for the first time in their lives. And neither planned on stopping anytime soon.

Definitely not when they pulled away and smiles spread on both their faces at just the other being so close. Her hands running through his hair, slightly tucking at the ends to make him notice her want for more. She wanted him and wanted her.

They were all they needed.

[whosblackcat]

mini thread abt how to help riize & seunghan + info 🩷🫧

note & warning: please don’t engage with ANY content of riize, for example don’t comment in their tiktoks saying “riize is 7” even if your intention is good, it breaks the purpose of the boycott!!

sm will pull fake scandals to distract our attention from the matter, for example as they did with sungchan yesterday! don’t believe anything, exols warned us

tweet the trending tags on twitter!! big official fan accounts always share which ones we have to use

don't buy or watch anything related to riize & sm, we’re boycotting

don’t interact with any post of sm and riize even if it’s to use the tags or supporting the boys, we’re boycotting

all the info of what did one of the persons who sent the death wreaths

ot6 are complaining to the police & government abt the displays and flowers for seunghan in front of the sm building, and according to this person now it's not possible to put them in commercial facilities

sm is buying followers and likes due to the impact of the boycott

ot6 are monitoring every movement and project in every language and reporting them. @/RIIZEUSACENTRE kofi was reported because of them while raising trucks money

seunghan's leaked photo with his girlfriend was leaked by hybe

riize is seven movement schedule. day 1 october 28th

mass review 1 star to all sm facilities on google maps (note: they’re deleting the bad reviews but we have to keep going)

hybes’s ceo lee jae sang issues apology letter for the ‘music industry report’ document (a sorry is not enough after destroying hsh life & career)

seunghan town will be removed due to ot6 reports and company that they reported the project, causing making hard getting the needed permits

pineapple manager passed in front of the protest today, he def saw the protest

manager passed in front of the protest again, they know what’s going on

manager passed in front of the protest for the third time, and tomorrow is the meeting

riize is seven movement schedule november 6th

there’s a very popular lawyer who has won a case against sm before that right now is representing fans

riize doesn't have any schedule, comeback or tour for the first quarter of 2025. the boycott is working, keep going!

riize lost 400k monthly listeners on spotify

clarifications on rumors regarding hsh. the thread linked below explains it really well, so please read carefully and repost it on X!

sm announced that seunghan will debut as a solo artist in the second half of 2025… they even created him a profile on ig. sm is trying to calm us down. is their final act of desperation to tame the situation. this doesn’t protect him from toxic fans, pls keep boycotting, this doesn’t end here (we protested to have him back in riize where he belongs, not to debut as solo artist is this a joke what are they doing💀💀)

Jaehyeon Choe, a TikToker with over 174k followers (@/watchwithsamjaychoe), who has worked with different kpop groups, some of them being SM ones, knows things we don't know and is telling us to DON'T STOP THE BOYCOTT

MAMA's violations against fans, the mistreatment and disrespect experienced by the fans cannot be ignored. some fans were denied entry due to their clothing and some others had their stuff (which they paid for) thrown away even if it wasn’t against the rules they settled. dm @/RIIZEUSACENTRE on X if something like this happened to you

this is all the info i found and i wanted to spread it here too, so thanks and credits to all the ppl on twitter!! if i find more relevant info i’ll keep updating this post. please share it 🫶🏻 (note: english isn't my first language, sorry for any mistakes in my grammar)

little motivation and some twitter accounts that organize projects/give info below the cut! 🩷

— some good info twitter accs:

@/RIIZEUSACENTRE @/SEVENRIIZE @/RIIZE_EUROPE @/PROTECT_RIIZE @/Seunghan_USA

— little motivation:

kbriize are holding face to face protests and fanbases hired an attorney. boycott properly if you don't want all the effort to be wasted! remember, boycotting takes time

"The group nearly disbanded in September of 2001, after Park Joon-hyung was discovered to be in a relationship. Their management announced, without informing him or the members, that he was to leave the group and they'd continue as 4, but it was met with strong objection from fans, who repeatedly signed petitions and threatened to boycott concerts and the company. Danny, Kyesang, Hoyoung and Taewoo held their own press conference, without the knowledge of their management, to show their support for Joon. After two months of disagreements, their company eventually backed down and allowed Joon to be in the group." if joon returned to the group after two months of protests, complains and boycott, we can bring back seunghan!! the key is persistence. please don't give up and keep fighting for his rights and justice!!

[hellfirenacht]

Anomaly Part 4

Summary: You can talk to anyone in school with no problem. At least, anyone who’s not named Eddie Munson.

Tags: Anxious-ish!Reader but not shy, one sided pining, no use of y/n, fem!reader, one sided enemies to lovers, fem!reader

Word Count: 2.2k words

Master List

“The only reason she didn’t smack you was because she broke her arm.” Gareth said before downing the rest of his soda and crunching it on the table. 

“I didn’t do anything to warrant a smacking.” Eddie said, crossing his arms. This had gone on for the past few minutes, where the guys had been hounding him about being seen with you and an ex-cheerleader. “I was a gentleman and carried her books to the cafeteria.” 

“She looked terrified to be seen with you.” Gareth was reaching for one of Jeff’s tater tots and yelped as his hand was smacked away. 

“So what else is new? Everyone’s afraid of Eddie except us.” Grant shrugged which caused the rest of the table to laugh before Eddie shot them a look that made them all shut up. 

It was a blessing and a curse being the Freak of Hawkins High. Eddie knew that most people were afraid of him here, and that’s what he liked. Having people scared of him, or at least apprehensive of him, made it easier to keep an eye on his club. People moved out of the way when he moved through the hallways now, unlike his first four years of high school when he was pushed around. 

Maybe it was because after that first senior year, Eddie had hit another growth spurt and looked more adult than most of the students. Wayne had once made a dry joke that if he cut his hair and wore a nice shirt for once he’d be mistaken for a teacher. Eddie had taken that personally and had spent his last few dollars on a metal WASP pin that weekend. 

Eddie knew he looked dangerous to the average student, and a criminal to the average teacher. When Eddie looked in the mirror, he just saw himself. 

“Did she say why she saved your ass from being expelled?” Dustin piped in, stealing one of Gareth’s tater tots while he was still trying to take Jeff’s. 

“No, but she said she fell to distract everyone over the fact that Miles shit himself during the pep rally.” Eddie deadpanned. 

“That’s the closest you’ll ever get to talking to a cheerleader, congratulations, Eddie.” Jeff said, with a mouth full of tater tots, finding it easier to shove them all in his mouth at once rather than spend the rest of lunch fending off Gareth. 

“Ex-cheerleader.” Eddie said without thinking. He wondered if Stacy blamed him for what happened. She didn’t seem pissed at him though, then again you seemed to dislike him enough for the both of you.  

“Exactly.” 

Quickly losing interest in this whole topic, Eddie pulled out his cassette player, removed the batteries, gave them a good shake and put them back in before pushing play. The rest of the club went back to talking about other things. As for Eddie, he had been listening to the same damn song for a week to get the riff right. With the rest of the club growing sick of the song, it gave Eddie an excuse to bow out of the conversation for a moment. 

He glanced back over at the table you were at for just long enough to see you and Stacy having a heated debate about something. What was it that got you so passionate right now? 

You looked frustrated, but you usually did when he was around. 

The rest of the day passed by at a snail's pace, with the days getting longer outside now and with how close he was to the end of the school year it was hard to keep momentum up. Eddie had come into this school year swinging, determined to pass those last few classes and get the hell out of here. But like anything that wasn’t D&D or music, the longer things went the harder it became. 

Senioritis was already bad, but for a 3rd year in a row? This was getting ridiculous. 

He thought back to this past summer where he sucked it up and signed up for summer school. Two classes over two months to show that he could count to twenty without taking his shoes off and say that Hitler was the one who killed Hitler and that gave him two shiny credits under his belt so that this year he only had to worry about Science and the PE class he had been skipping since middle school.

As much as it sucked, it was quick and easy and Eddie really just wished that regular school was as easy as summer school was. At least in summer school he was with the rest of the burnouts and future flunkies. No one there gave two shits about popularity. 

The final bell rang and he made his way to the parking lot towards his van. If there was one thing that his dad did right by him, it was leaving Eddie his van. His band and this piece of junk was his ticket out of Hawkins as soon as he had that diploma. 

Eddie passed the buses, taking the long way around as it was a surprisingly warm day for early Spring. 

His mind was distracted, wandering to the next time Corroded Coffin would practice- he needed to tune his guitar first, and check to make sure the amp was going to live to see another show, call Ronnie and-

THUMP

“Watch it!” Eddie turned and snapped as someone shoulder checked him as they rushed to the bus behind them. It was reflex, the past two years he’d dealt with this bullshit less and less and he wasn’t about to let it go now.

Eddie stopped as he made eye contact with you. You were gripping your arm and staring him down, caught between a snarl and a deer in the headlights. He met your gaze unflinching, until you blinked first and looked away. 

“Sorry.” you said before running onto the nearest bus. 

Shit. You probably hadn’t meant to actually shoulder check him. You had apologized, albeit reluctantly. If there was one thing he could give you credit for, you never went out of your way to be outright cruel to him. You just... didn’t like him. He could live with that for the next few months. 

Still, the sight of you running onto the bus stirred up the memory of the first time he remembered seeing you this past summer. You were always the first person on the bus in summer school. Guess that hadn’t changed. 

---

As long as you kept your headphones on and had a window seat, the bus wasn’t the worst thing in the world. You missed the freedom of being able to drive to and from school, stopping at gas stations for snacks or going to downtown Hawkins just to loiter around the shops. 

The first day on the bus was as peaceful as one could hope. Your personal mixtape was buzzing in your ear, you stared out the window as your peers were dropped off groups at a time at different stops. Some had parents waiting for them, some didn’t. You knew yours wouldn’t be. As soon as you hit freshman year, they swapped to the night shift deeming you old enough to take care of your own dinner, on your second round of summer school you saw them even less. 

Eddie was also held back, that wasn’t exactly a secret in the school and he could hardly pass as a pimple ridden teen anyway. That was also one of the reasons you seemed to gravitate to him. But while everyone knew about Eddie’s schooling history, having come to Hawkins late in your high school career, it allowed you a bit of extra discretion. Stacy was the only one who knew this was your second round of senior year. 

Your arm throbbed under your cast on the way home today, your face burning from embarrassment that you had almost had a nice conversation with Eddie earlier, but now he thought you shoulder checked him. You thunked your forehead against the window with a sigh. 

Eddie didn’t talk to you until the following Wednesday when the two of you were cornered by your teacher after the bell rang. You could see the look in Ms. Benson’s eyes what she wanted to talk about, but why was Eddie involved?

Ms. Benson handed Eddie his last paper, a C- scribbled at the top. Passing, but barely. Salt in the wound to you, and you looked down at your cast, picking at it. 

“You’re phoning it in, Mr. Munson.” she said. “I know that you don’t need this class to finally graduate but I don’t like mediocre work.”

You didn’t like that he was getting lectured when you were right there. Where was the decorum? The dignity? You wanted to crawl into the linoleum. 

Ms. Benson turned to you before Eddie could say anything. “You didn’t turn your paper in.” she said blatantly. She might as well have turned to Eddie and told him directly that you were a lazy dumbass. 

“I broke my wrist.” you said, more to the signature of Allie from gym class than to your teacher. If you had done literally anything else in class this year, then maybe that excuse could have worked, but you hadn’t and it didn’t. 

Ms. Benson took a look at you both and let out a long sigh. “I’m giving you both a chance to fix this.” she said. “I’m willing to offer you both extra credit to give you either a bonus on your final papers or replace a missing one.”

It was a good deal, a very very generous offer. Too generous-

“And what’s the catch, Ms, B?” Eddie asked skeptically. 

“I need volunteers for Spring Day.” she said. “You help with that, and I’ll give you the extra credit.” 

Spring Day was basically a free day where kids could either skip school or come for a slack off day. There were games, events happening at the gym, fields, and library, catered lunches, and plenty of ways to sneak off. 

“Sorry, no can do.” Eddie said. “I was banned from Spring Day. I have a hot date with in school suspension and you know how Higgins hates it when I cancel on him like that.” 

“I already cleared it with him.” Ms. Benson said, shocking Eddie. “As long as you stay away from the balloon pop booth.”

You saw Eddie smirk out of the corner of your eye. “I was framed, I swear.” 

“Of course you were.” She said dismissively. “So,I expect both of you to show up after school on Mondays and Wednesdays to meet me to help set this up. We only have a few weeks, and the budget is tight.”

Well, there was clearly no choice now. Just like that, you were now being volun-told to help with the one day a year you didn’t feel guilty about doing jack shit. 

“...Go away now.” Ms. Benson said, and you and Eddie didn’t need to be told twice. You turned tail and damn near ran out of the room. 

You were at your locked, struggling with the damn lock when you heard a voice next to you. “Do you think humiliation was also part of the extra credit, or are we just lucky?” 

Eddie had followed you to your locker, he was the last person you wanted to see after that. “I guess.” you mumbled, awkwardly shoving books in as you grabbed your lunch. 

You could handle feeling judged by teachers and your fellow students. That was the norm since you were a kid. God, Eddie was on his sixth year! Why did you care what he thought about you? Wouldn’t he understand better than anyone at this school what you were dealing with? 

You closed the locker harder than you meant to and Eddie winced. Shit. You had to say something to ease the tension. 

“...What did you do to the water balloons?” You asked, looking at him. Eddie smiled wide at you. 

“Allegedly I added some fun food coloring to the water.” he shrugged. “I didn’t think this school hated red and black so much.” 

You cracked a smile despite yourself. “It’s not exactly school colors.” 

“It’s not.” Eddie agreed, messing with one of his rings. His eyes darted past you, and you looked over to see Stacy walking over. 

“Eddie.” she nodded with a pleasant smile. Maybe too pleasant? No, that’s weird to think about your best friend. 

“Stacy.” Eddie nodded back. 

You had a weird feeling that there was a conversation going on, that you were in the middle of. You tried to shake off the thought, Stacy knew everyone. Stacy had a way of making everyone feel important, plus she was super pretty. You couldn’t blame Eddie for looking at her, and you tried to squash that glob of jealousy. Stacy was your best friend, she wouldn’t make a move on the guy you’ve been pining over. 

Stacy turned to you. “We’re sitting outside today with Nancy. She wants to interview me for the school paper.” 

“Wheeler?” you asked. “Uh, sure.” Stacy had so many damn accolades you didn’t bother asking which one she was being interviewed for. You’d read about it later. “Uh, see you on Wednesday, I guess, Eddie.”

“Yeah, see ya.” Eddie agreed as Stacy lead you away. 

“Wednesday?” she whispered with a glint in her eyes. “The second we turn the corner you’re talking.”

----

2 posts in one day?! Yeah lol. This fic is pure stream of consciousness so even I barely know what's happening. I have a vague idea of story beats bot otherwise this fic is always hot off the press lol.

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[oh-phoenixx]

"Stay" - Jegulus microfic @into-the-jeggyverse - 1392 words

-

James wanted to like Regulus. Really, he did. But overcoming that want was his love for Sirius, and his fear of his best friend getting hurt. This had happened before. Regulus had shown up on their doorstep all bruised and bloody and Sirius had welcomed him in so eagerly, just wanting to keep his brother safe. But the moment that Walburga had come looking for him, apologising to Regulus and begging him to come home, Regulus had given in. It had torn Sirius apart, and James would not let it happen again.

“You’ll really stay this time?” James asked, eyeing Regulus suspiciously. Nothing had happened to provoke Regulus’s running away, he was not adorned with any new cuts and had no story of his parents’ violence to tell. He had simply run away because he wanted to, because it was what Sirius wanted and because he knew his parents were not good people. James wanted to know where it had all come from.

“I’m going to stay,” Regulus swore stiffly. 

“You can’t just show up here and leave the second Mummy comes knocking,” James gritted out, surprising even himself with his cruelty. He tried not to show how guilty he felt. “You left Sirius and it really fucking hurt him.”

“He left me first,” Regulus spat, then closed his eyes and took a deep breath to steady himself. “I’m…I’m not going anywhere. I’m here. I won’t let her control me anymore.”

James just nodded, still looking him up and down, as if waiting for something to pop out and ruin everything.

-

The first few weeks were hard. Despite his initial hesitation to accept Regulus into their lives, James did everything he could to make sure Regulus knew he was safe with them. He remembered how Sirius was, when he first moved in with James and his parents, and he knew what had worked for him, what had made him feel more comfortable. 

Regulus had nightmares often, and James would find him sitting in the living room, staring blankly at the wall. When this had happened with Sirius, James or Euphemia would make him tea. So, without thinking, really, James did this. He brought through a cup of tea and handed it to Regulus, who jumped when he finally noticed James.

“Bad dream?” James asked knowingly. Regulus looked him over cautiously before nodding. “Tea always helps Sirius sleep. Thought it was a safe bet.”

James learned quickly that Regulus did not speak at night. He wasn’t sure if it was the dreams or night time in general, but he didn’t question it. James also learned that Regulus was a very good listener. At first, he had started talking for the sake of not sitting in silence, not really about anything specific. Then, he shared opinions, on whatever he could think of. Movies or brands of tea or music or how that woman in the shop was rude earlier. There was a kind of domesticity to it, this end-of-the-day ritual. James got it all off his chest and went to sleep feeling a little lighter. He hoped Regulus did, too.

Progress was slow, but it was progress nonetheless. Regulus sitting a little closer each night did not go unnoticed by James. One night, Regulus had rested his head on James’s arm, and neither mentioned it, and it didn’t happen again, and James was so, so happy. With how guarded Regulus was, James had been sure that he would have hated him forever because of how cruel what James had said was. But each night, James brought him tea, and each night, Regulus accepted it and did not say a word. It was strange, really. Before Regulus had come to stay with Sirius and James, James had always seen him as this somewhat rude enigma, Sirius’s mean little brother, just like his parents. But at night, as they spoke—or, more accurately, as James spoke—, Regulus seemed so vulnerable; all tired hums and sleepy giggles one moment, and trembling hands and shaky breaths the next. 

After a particularly long day, James fell asleep earlier than usual. Work had been hard, and he had stayed up late the night before talking to Regulus. Really, his exhaustion had dragged on for weeks now, as he was always awake in case Regulus needed him.

When his alarm went off at six, as it did every morning, James sat up, rubbing his eyes and noticing the presence of the younger boy in his bed, who groaned at being woken so early in the morning. When he noticed James staring, Regulus’s eyes widened and he shot up.

“Um, sorry, I…You weren’t there last night,” Regulus explained, getting out of bed and already heading for the door. “I came in to find you and I fell asleep. Sorry. I- Sorry.”

And before James could respond or tell him that really, he didn’t mind, Regulus was out of the door, leaving James confused and a little sad, for some reason. Only after Regulus left did he notice the two mugs, one empty and one filled with now-cold tea.

That night, James did not fall asleep. He brought in the two cups of tea, and sat beside Regulus, who seemed calmer each night they were together.

“I’m glad you’re here,” Regulus whispered. James was sure it was the first time he had ever spoken to him at night. “My tea never tastes as good as yours.”

James hoped that was not the only reason Regulus was happy to have him there, but did not push it.

-

When James got home from work, all he wanted was to sit with Sirius and Regulus and watch a movie. So, the sight that he got instead was not a welcome one.

“Regulus, this is foolish,” Walburga said, looking around the flat with disgust. “You will come back. Your father and I need you.”

There was this subtle hint of desperation in her voice that James knew was intentional. Regulus swallowed hard and looked between Sirius and their mother, as if trying to decide which life to live, which of the two people he loved to appease. Then, his eyes met James’s. James tried to speak, but nothing came out. He mouthed ‘stay’.

“I’m not coming, Mother,” Regulus said, voice unsteady but determined.

She wouldn’t leave immediately, but once James and Sirius had both stepped between her and Regulus, she seemed to decide it wasn’t worth it. 

That night, Regulus walked into James’s room. He stood in the doorway, seeming unsure of himself. James gestured for him to come in, and he finally moved towards the bed, sitting awkwardly on the edge.

“Thank you,” James started. “For staying.”

“I did it for Sirius,” Regulus replied, looking away.

It stung a little, but James nodded. “I know.”

“I…I did it for you, too, though,” Regulus added, quieter.

James beamed at him, reaching a hand out and placing it on Regulus’s. He didn’t really think about it until Regulus’s eyes met his own, and he was overcome with this indescribable urge to do something. He wasn’t sure what. Or maybe he was, and he was scared. But James didn’t get scared, not of a thing like this. He leaned in, just a little, just enough to gauge Regulus’s reaction. His breath hitched and he pulled his hand out of James’s. Oh. James moved back.

“Wait, no, I’m sorry, I-” Regulus cut himself off and sighed. James tilted his head to try to catch Regulus’s eyes.

“Regulus?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m in love with you.”

“Oh. That’s…nice.”

“Nice?”

“Yeah, I think so.”

James laughed, though he wasn’t sure why. What Regulus had said wasn’t funny, really, but still, he laughed, and Regulus’s cheeks turned this pink colour that James could revel in for the rest of his life. That urge was suddenly so loud, and James realised that it had been there long before he had noticed it.

“Regulus?”

“Yeah?”

“Can I kiss you?”

Regulus’s ‘yes’ was just a breath, so quiet that James took a moment to make sure he wasn’t imagining it. Regulus looked at him expectantly, and James nearly lunged forward. It was all want at first, deep and determined. He took a breath and pulled away to collect himself, gentling his hands and kissing Regulus again, softer this time.

When they finally parted, Regulus mumbled, “I love you, too.”

[howlett-n-morgan]

More Than Words

2. Questions

Logan Howlett x OC!Reader

Series Summary: Having lived for over two hundred years and never having the privilege of human touch is the biggest burden imaginable... until someone comes along with the healing ability to withstand the touch of death.

Chapter Warnings: still a lot for now but: mild language, canon typical violence, mention of murder, death, mutant experimentation, and a depressive episode briefly described. Logan is a warning, especially here

Chapter Summary: The bad dreams have ceased, but many questions lurk in their place, and the meaning behind those dreams is still one of them. In the middle of all the chaos, a few things will come to light.

Word Count: 8.4k

“Of everyone here, I didn’t expect you to be keeping a stash,” he sat down on the edge of your bed, facing your back as you were hunched over the desk, writing sloppily a few notes for tomorrow morning. “I asked Scott and Storm, they had nothin…”

You put your headset on this morning. You usually only used it to drown out everything else when you really needed to. Everyone has noticed except those who don’t know what it means. Those who do, remember the times in which you were at your lowest. Back then you were practically unable to function without the damn headphones over your ears. The last time you even remember wearing them was when you first started teaching here, all the noise and rapid energy being quieted by the music in your head.

 After last night, and the confessions made to Logan, he seemed to be open to hearing more from you then… but he kept you at arm’s reach now, and you couldn’t say you didn’t understand why. He’s not just been thrust into the middle of an age-old fight between friends, but he also is struggling with his identity. 

You did however learn something interesting after hearing chatter when you woke up. Logan and Scott aren't getting along. Why? Because Logan has been relentlessly flirting with Jean. You’d scoffed when you found out. Not because you don’t think Jean is worthy of such advances, but because he was basically shooting himself in the foot by even trying to take her from Scott. 

Jean is a rare bird, and a special person. Charles argues the same thing about everyone who sets foot on the property, but with her, it’s especially true. She’s smarter than most people you know, having gone to a college outside of the education given by Charles and the others. She even attended school alongside you for a while, although it only took you a few semesters to realize you weren’t cut out for the medical field like she was. You have to be able to touch your patients, after all.

She had a lot to offer, and anyone could see that. Even excluding her powers, which were enough to level a city on their own. She was kind, nurturing, and very strategic. All of those things combined with the looks of a super model made her one of the most desirable people in the entire mansion, so even though you and Logan made a connection, you don’t find it hard to see why he’s taken with her. 

It may bother you just a little, but you would never admit it to anyone who asked, not even Charles. 

All of this is not why you put on your headset, but it could be a contributing factor. 

You’ve just met Logan, or at least officially. It stands to reason that you shouldn’t have an inkling of feelings yet. You can’t imagine that would be how it goes. In any rational situation, you have to get to know him. That’s how relationships work.

You remember how it was with Charlie, how it took more than one night of talking late when everyone else was asleep. You got to know him, and got to see his kindness and compassionate heart. You’d seen who he truly was, and it warmed your heart and soul, despite not being able to touch him. You don’t know Logan yet, but you imagine he’s not as soft and kind, nor gentle or compassionate. He seems like sort of a lone wolf, and the type to push away everything except for what he’s got his eyes set on. You don’t even know if the connection you made was real, or if he was just looking for company…

He has nightmares, but you don’t know why. It’s only one relation, that’s all. Maybe he’d only asked you to stay because he was frightened of them, just like you are of yours.

You’d gone back to your room near the hours of sunrise, and fell back asleep before your alarm woke you, but you were still exhausted, and wondered if he was facing the same conundrum. It was only when you went to ask him about it that he became colder to you than the night before. He’d given a stiff answer and gone about his morning, which you were confused by, since he wasn’t a student, nor a teacher.

You passed him in the halls throughout the day, and nodded to him with a sweet smile. He doesn’t really return it, just kept walking. You think that maybe he just didn’t see you, or was on his way to do something else and couldn’t pay attention, but then at dinner he refuses to look at you, and you can’t for the life of you understand why. 

You decide to block him out, to deal with the more pressing matters. The school, the mutant rebellion, and Rogue, the newest recruit. 

She’s like you in a few ways, and you feel sorry for her. You hope that by passing on some stories that maybe she can find hope in her powers. They are a gift and a curse, but she holds them wonderfully well already.

You found her on the back balcony, overlooking the gardens. She’d been sitting alone for about an hour, but didn’t seem to be bothered, just enjoying the peace. You debated whether or not you should disrupt it, but the second she heard you behind her, she turned. 

You had been organizing things back where they go, following the mess of mutant children to try and keep the house in good shape, and now that you’d found yourself with her, you wanted to say a few things. You peeled your headset off and sat beside her, offering a smile first. Her energy felt stiff, like she’d been unwelcome where she was. 

“You settled in yet?” 

She shrugged, unsure of what to say. Even in a place full of people like her, she was an outsider. “I guess I’m getting there.”

It was silent for a moment, and you sensed her energy was low and draining. She must have been sad, or angry, or even flat our forlorn about her powers and the danger they hold. 

“Y’know, when I first found out about my powers, it was the worst day of my life,” you started, but quickly followed up, knowing the words were not inspiring. “They are a blessing and a curse, but for most of my life they were a curse… until the Professor found me. Now, I’ve learned to use them to help people. You can, too.”

It should have helped, but her feelings on the power she held didn’t waver, she just wanted to know what she was in for, and you knew better than anyone what she would face.

“Did you ever… hurt anyone?” she asked sincerely, turning to face you but managing the distance. Both your touches were lethal and dangerous.

“Yeah,” you sighed, looking out to the gardens and hoping that the serene ambience would keep you in a good state of mind. “Most of them were the people closest to me. Always an accident, but still a deadly one.”

“I’m sorry,” she dropped her head, unsure of herself now, too. She didn’t know how to control it, or even subdue it. It may not even be possible. 

“Don’t be sorry, it was a long time ago… I’m a lot more careful now.”

“They told me how old you were, how long you’ve been around…” she trailed, looking for a good way to ask such a terrible question. “How have you lived that long without being able to touch the people you love?” 

You understood why she was asking. Of course, she was concerned about her future, but also her present. She’s a runaway, who’s left her entire family because of her ability. She must be feeling the lonesomeness that all mutants inevitably face at one point in their lives.

“I don’t know,” you shrugged, trying not to become emotional. You’ve loved many people in your lifetime, many people you’ve lost early, or at the right time, but you could never go with them. You can’t seem to die, but everyone else does when you need them the most. “I think that being here is really what saved me. Not only knowing there are others like me, but knowing I can have a family who doesn’t fear me, doesn’t judge me. Even knowing all the things I’ve done.”

“You didn’t do them on purpose, did you?” 

“No,” you shook your head. “But I’m still responsible for them, for the people I’ve killed.”

You’ve killed people. How many, she doesn’t know, but she feels as though you’re the only person that can understand her. That can understand being afraid of herself and what she can do to others. She knows that you’ve probably gone decades and decades just trying to learn how to be more careful, and that she’ll have to learn, too. 

“You said you’d hurt people you love… what happened?” 

This was a very soft spot for you. Even after a century, it was still an open wound. Something that would never fully heal, because there was no way to achieve closure over it. What’s lost is gone, and your powers were the cause.

“I was engaged once,” you dropped your gaze to your lap, looking at your hands and the way they were so well fitted with the green gloves. You practically never took them off. 

“Engaged?” 

“Yeah, engaged. I’d somehow managed to find the single man in the entire universe that didn’t require me to touch him to achieve his affection…” You trailed, trying not to go into detail. Searching for a small distraction, you fiddled with the hem of your sweater, pulling loose threads to ignore the sad memories. “I touched him by accident.”

“And he died?” She widened her eyes, both upset for you and becoming more afraid of herself. She doesn’t want to fall in love, not if she’s going to hurt that person eventually. 

“He did,” you wiped your hand over your eyes before any tears could even fall, and then let it rest back in your lap. “But you’re not gonna make the same mistake that I did, I promise. I’ll help you.”

“You will?” Her eagerness to accept the assistance was clear. “Thank you.”

“Of course… and don’t give up hope. There could be someone out there that can withstand your powers just as they are.” 

Maybe it wasn’t a good idea to offer such things to her, but it seemed like the right thing to do.

Her brow furrowed, unsure if what you were saying was true. From your earlier words, you’ve been around a long time and it’s never happened for you. “Sounds impossible.”

“It’s not impossible,” you told her, standing up from beside her on the bench. “Nothing is impossible.”

You left her on that note, and went back inside. 

-

On your way up to bed, you caught Logan in the hallway. You gave a tight lipped smile on the way to your door, expecting him to be cold like he was throughout the day… but he fell into stride next to you, walking to his own door. 

“You guys got anything good to drink around here?” he asked, partially as a joke, but usually never going without a drink for more than a day was catching up to him. 

“This is a school, Logan,” you turned to him with a laugh and a light smile. Maybe he’d struck out with Jean and was off her coattails now. 

“Well I can see that, but I figured with a limited number of adults chasing after a million kids, someone’s gotta be drinking at the end of the day,” he leaned against his door frame, and you had completely turned to face him, neglecting your door knob which you had reached for originally. 

You huffed a sigh, shaking your head at him. You may or may not have a bottle of Jack hidden where no one can find it. If anyone in this hell hole had a reason to drink it was you, but you never did it in front of the kids, or nearly anyone else. You reckon Charles or Ororo would march up to you if they found out, voicing their concern. 

“Stay quiet, and don’t say a word about this to anyone…” You opened the door, letting him follow you in before closing it and locking the knob. “Under the bed, back right corner.”

You allowed him to go fishing for it himself, going to your desk in the corner to make sure you were caught up on everything and prepared for tomorrow’s history quiz before you settled in for the night. He’d already been ready for bed, seemingly just roaming the halls and looking for alcohol at this late hour. 

“Of everyone here, I didn’t expect you to be keeping a stash,” he sat down on the edge of your bed, facing your back as you were hunched over the desk, writing sloppily a few notes for tomorrow morning. “I asked Scott and Storm, they had nothin…”

“I surprised you, huh?” you ask, not even throwing a look over your shoulder. You may have an interest in this man, but since you started teaching here you were always efficient, and that wasn’t going to stop now. 

“Yeah, a little,” he chuckled, taking swigs straight from the bottle. It had been more than half full the last time you drank from it, so there was a decent amount. “You just seem like the innocent one.”

This made you drop what you were doing and spin your chair around. “Innocent?” 

He smirked at your furrowed brows, but having known of your mutation, he was willing to guess everything and even bet on it. “I believe that’s what I said.”

You tilted your head at him, the look on your face making him grin even more. 

“I don’t think I like that word,” you leaned back in your seat, crossing your arms over your chest and thinking of all the reasons why. “I’ve done and seen things that would be considered unfathomable to other people.”

“I don’t mean how dangerous you are, I mean how corrupted you are,” he kept on, another swig taken from the bottle. “And I think you’re innocent.”

“I still don’t like it,” you shook your head, laughing a little and reaching for the bottle, which he was all too happy to hand over, fingers brushing your gloved hands. “I prefer inexperienced.”

“Does it matter? It means the same thing,” he argued, watching you take a nice lengthy drink of the whiskey in your hand. 

“It does matter, actually,” you were all too happy to correct him. “Innocence implies that my mind is pure of corruption, but really, I’ve just never been able to do the things I’ve thought about.”

He rolled his eyes, taking back the bottle and trying to keep up with you. He pointed to your head with a swirling finger. “Yeah right, I’m sure you’re just all kinds of perverted up there.”

You just giggled and looked at him for a moment. He was funny, he was handsome, and he was clearly interested in your favorite choice of alcohol. Just more things to connect on, you supposed. Maybe feelings weren’t so far down the road, after all. 

You blinked out of it when you realized you’d been looking at his bare arms for too long, the beater he wore left little to the imagination as to how fit he was, and it was a nice view to take in, but not this late, and certainly not with a bottle of Jack. 

“I should be getting to bed soon, big test tomorrow…” you trailed, standing up and going to the door. It was late, no one else should be awake, but you still wanted to make sure. “You can take the whiskey for the road, if you want.”

“I’ll get you another one,” he returned, knowing that by the end of the night, the bottle was likely to be empty. He’d not had Jack Daniel’s in a while, so he was grateful for the favor. 

“No need,” you shook your head as he met you in the doorway, peering down and clearly shadowing you under his tall form. You had to take a breath and smile to break the tension you felt, as it was thick and heated. “I really should stop drinking here, anyway.”

“I’m happy to pick it up in your place,” he smirked, still standing right in front of you. If anyone had stepped out of their room, they’d see how close he was looming. 

“I guess I’ll see you tomorrow?” You asked hopefully, knowing full well that he could respond with an empty promise, and still be cold to you as he was today. 

“Yeah, I’ll see you.” 

And he left without another word.

-

You awoke in the middle of the night to chaos in the hallway. You were surprised not to be plagued with nightmares for once, but the screams of your next door neighbor didn’t exactly settle you back into your pillows. You heard footsteps outside your door, and when you sat up, Ororo opened the door without knocking, the urgency of whatever situation that had happened started to set in. 

“There’s been an accident,” she looked to you with an expression of fear and shock, leaving the doorway as soon as she could see you were scrambling to your feet.

You could feel the energy, it was all over the place. Kids were scared, and so were some of the adults, Ororo being one of them. You ran into the room, avoiding the touch of everyone you passed by, and stared at the scene playing out. 

“What happened?” you rushed over to where Jean and Scott were hovering over Logan, his unconscious body thrown over the bed and seemingly in a state of paralysis. 

“Rogue, she touched him,” Jean was working the best she could to try and keep him from death’s door, but even with her skilled hands, she looked afraid. “He’s fading quickly, she may have drained too much of his regeneration.”

You tried to think quickly on your feet. She drained his regenerative energy, but you could restore it. The manipulation of energy was clearly something you were all too familiar with, but you were afraid if his regeneration was too low that he might die from your mutation. 

If he’s already going to die, you’re going to do the only thing you know how to try and save him. 

“Jean, move,” you reach for him, and she practically dives out of the way of your bare hands. 

“You’ll kill him!”

“Just trust me,” you said, your hands finding his shoulders. You heard gasps behind you when your skin met his, and they all started whispering, assuming that if he wasn’t dead before, he definitely was now. 

You focused your energy on him, using what was inside of you and around you to build back up what had been inside of him. His mutation, his strength and endurance, and most of all, his healing capability. 

“Alice, he’s dead,” Scott nearly scolded you, shaking his head. He wasn’t fond of the man, but that didn’t mean he wished him to die… and now he had, by your hand or Rogue he wasn’t sure. “What did you do?” 

You ignored him, and all the ones whispering behind you. You could feel his life force, like a branch in the air around you, reaching out just the smallest bit, but not strong enough to hold growth yet. You were slowly building it, letting it stretch out until his own body could take it from there. 

When he took a sharp inhale of breath and his chest started to rise and fall again, everyone nearly fell over out of shock. No one said a word yet, because they were too stunned to speak. 

Logan was still in bad condition, but you trusted that his healing could help him out from here. You pulled him onto your lap, head resting against your body as you felt for a steady pulse, and saw the color returning to his hands and arms. 

“I got you,” you whispered, holding him close. This was the first person that you’d ever been able to save with your touch, as before, it killed everyone who came across it.

“Alice?” Jean called from behind your shoulder, her mouth still agape and her eyes wide. “Alice!”

You looked to her, only slightly fearful that she may tell Charles about this, and then you’ll be in for an earful. He was the hand that guided you along the terrible pathways of your life, but he was also the one who reprimanded you when need be. 

“He’s alright,” you promised her, but she still didn’t come closer. Scott however, was completely baffled and had a million questions. 

“How did you do that? You can’t touch anyone-”

“I can touch him,” you answered shortly, your arms still wrapped tight around his limp form. “Just him.”

Jean shook her head and snapped out of her train of thought. There was too much to be asked, but this was not the time for it. Logan still needed more treatment, despite the help you gave. You stood up to accommodate her, keeping your eyes on Logan and making sure he was still okay. You could feel his energy restacking, like building blocks in the air around you. 

“Start talking,” Scott pressed, the urgent situation now overshadowed by a need for answers. Ororo joined Scott in front of you, her expression holding more than just shock at this point. She looked nearly excited, but you couldn’t say why. 

“I know him,” you said, trying to start slowly, but knowing the two of them, it wouldn;t be good enough. “When Striker had us, he got Logan, too. He doesn’t remember it, but he saved my life… yours too, Scott.”

“That…” he trailed, shaking his head. He’d done the same thing that you’d done. He blocked it out of his memory. That didn’t mean that it didn’t happen. You just had a better reason to remember it. “That can’t be possible… he’s touched you before?” 

“He practically dragged me out of that cell,” you told him, and he recalled the day of the mutant prison break. He remembers a man helping them, but never imagined it could have been Logan. 

“How is it possible? I’ve seen you drop some of the most powerful mutants where they stand, no one survives being touched by you,” Ororo was the one to pitch in this time, her question not so much one of what, but how?

“His regenerative ability. The way Charles used to explain my powers to me, he said to think of my skin like a radioactive energy poison. When such a poison is absorbed into one’s body it can cause it to shut down. My powers work the same way, just a thousand times stronger and faster. The thing is,” you pointed behind you, where Logan was slowly gaining small bits of health. “His regen mutation never allows my energy to be absorbed… I can’t kill him.”

“Scott?” Jean called from the ground, trying and failing to lift Logan on her own. “Gonna need a little help here. I need him in the med bay.”

Scott shook off the conversation, focusing on the matter at hand. 

When Jean and Scott got Logan through the crowd of kids, they all dispersed back to their rooms. The only two remaining were you and Ororo. 

She stared at you for a moment, wondering if you were going to leave, but then watched as you shuffled around in Logan’s things, looking for what you leant to him. You were hoping by some miracle that there would be some left. 

“Aha,” you let out, grabbing the bottle from inside the dresser drawer, unscrewing the cap and taking a swig. There wasn’t much, but there was enough to ease your mind at this late hour. “Want some?” 

“You really think this is a good time to be drinking?” she scoffed, crossing her arms and watching you fall back onto the foot of his bed. 

“I think it’s the perfect time to be drinking,” you held it out to her, wondering if she’d actually take it. 

She tried to keep her adult habits outside of the school, but these were tumultuous times, and she supposed it wouldn’t hurt to allow it under the circumstances. 

Out of the silence, she turned to you, right as you took your next slow gulp of the smooth liquor. 

“So,” her pause and sigh were unneeded. You knew what she was about to be getting on about. “You can touch him…”

“Yep,” you looked at her, a thin lipped smile on your face. You really didn’t have much else to say, but she did. 

“I know you never got over Charlie,” she spoke gently, not wanting to pinch a nerve, or bring up bitterness in a moment like this. The calm after the storm, no pun intended. “But maybe this is your chance…”

“A chance to what?” 

“You know what I’m talking about,” she leaned into your eyeline, still careful to stray from any of your exposed skin. 

“Yeah,” you muttered, “I know.” And then with the last swig in the bottle, you felt the warmth of the drink, and the tiniest bit of a buzz. “I don’t think Logan’s that kinda guy.”

“You don’t think he’d commit to a relationship?” 

“I don’t think he’d commit to me,” you corrected, shrugging your shoulders. You wished you had more to drink after that revelation, but unfortunately, this empty bottle contained the only bit of alcohol on the entire property. 

“He seems loyal, maybe you just need to know him better,” she encouraged, bumping her clothed shoulder with yours. Always a kind gesture, one of friendship and to show she held no fear of you like others did. 

“He doesn’t even know himself,” you chuckled a little. It may have been a bit of a mean joke to make, because you can’t even imagine how hard it is for him, but still you laugh, because you know him better than he does. “I know who he was that day.”

“When he saved you?” 

“Yeah, saved everyone,” you dropped your head, focusing on your hands and trying to keep your mind from falling down any bunny trails. “He was a hero. I think he still might be.”

“You should tell him that.”

“I did,” you chuckled, tossing the whiskey bottle back into the soft pillows of the bed to rid your hands of it. “He didn’t believe a word I was telling him…”

She sighed, knowing that with your stubbornness, and your fear of hurting people, you may opt to keep him at arms length, regardless of his ability to touch you. She knew about Charlie, and what you did to him. She knew you’d sworn off love since that day, over a hundred years ago… but she still had hope that this could turn into a part of your happiness. 

“Don’t give up on him so fast, alright?” She asked, her eyes turning to that of a puppy dog, pulling at your heart and nearly making you comply. 

“I won’t.”

-

Rogue went missing the next day, and while you’d been chomping at the bit to find her, you were unfortunately called to the office of the professor. You wondered if you were in for a stern talking to after the previous night’s events. 

“Take a seat,” he began, staring out the open window at the setting sun, and the children on property who were playing in the grass before dark. 

You did as you were told, not because you wanted to, but because you respected Charles enough to listen to whatever diatribe he was about to drone on. 

“I’ve had quite a few people visit my office today on your account,” he turned his chair around, his face not one of disappointment like you thought it would be. He didn’t look upset at all, nor did he look like he was going to reprimand you for being careless with your abilities. “I must say, I was surprised to hear of what happened.”

“I know it was careless of me,” you defended, unknowing if it was even necessary, but wanting to cover your bases, anyways. “But I can explain.”

“There’s no need to put up an argument, my dear.”

“There’s not?” 

He chuckled and shook his head, a small smile spreading over his cheeks. “Not at all. In fact, I’m actually quite happy for you.”

“Happy for me?” you asked another question, the reasoning for your visit becoming more unclear. 

“I know how long you’ve suffered,” he sighed, his tone returning to something more serious. “I have felt your anger and bitterness towards your abilities. I’ve sensed your hatred of them for years.”

“That was before,” you tried to interject, to tell him how thankful you were for his training. “But you taught me they were not just a curse, but also a blessing.”

“And do you really think I believe you when you say it? Miss Beckett, I’ve known you more than half my life… I can read your mind without entering it by now.”

You knew that if anyone could understand you it was him. You could feel other’s energy, but when he entered someone’s mind he could feel that and so much more. He could feel emotions, think that person’s thoughts, and even see what they see. 

“You knew all this time, then?” 

“I did,” he nodded, but didn’t stop there. “I knew that no matter what I did, it wouldn’t change your burdens.”

You ducked your head, thinking back to the times you’d lied, telling everyone that things were better. Truthfully, as a person you felt less alone, less hated and less dangerous… but you never felt loved. You couldn’t. No one could, or wanted to touch you, knowing your mutation.

“Scott told me about Logan, how you’d all met once before,” he said, turning the conversation back around to that of a better note. “When you’d repressed the memories of what Agent Striker had done, you’d forgotten him… but you didn’t forget what he did for you, and you didn’t forget a special detail.”

“He touched me,” you filled in the blank, waiting for him to continue. 

“Precisely.”

“I think…” you trailed, unsure of where this chat was going to lead. If Ororo had come to him, you were sure the thoughts exchanged the night before had come up, even if it was just meant to help you. “I think he may have feelings for… someone else.”

Charles nodded, he’d not purposely looked into Logan’s mind, but when Jean was stirring restlessly in the late evening, he took a peek inside hers, seeing the struggle to combat Logan and his advances.

“I understand,” he responded, but thought it was worth mentioning what he knew. “But his advances are pointless.”

“I still don’t want to get my hopes up,” you reasoned, a good point to be made considering his behavior towards you. “I’m getting too old for shit like this, you know?”

His understanding went without saying, he remembers your past, and knows of the only person you ever truly loved. It was a story for the ages with a tragic ending that would even make the bravest of men shed a tear. 

“Of course.”

You waited for him to dismiss you, and when he nodded to you in finality, you stood up from your seat. 

“Stay open minded, my dear, you don’t know where your path may lead.”

You hummed in acknowledgement, giving him a smile as you left the room. 

“Thank you, Charles.”

First Ororo, and now Charles. Your biggest cheerleaders since they met you… you love them both, and want to listen to them, but you are older therefore wiser, and must protect yourself from things that aren’t good for you. Everyday you grow older but your face and body stay the same. Your mentality weakens when you realize you’ve still got so much life to live, and it burdens you more when you struggle to live it alone. Having someone by your side would be the answer to your every prayer, the reason you could keep going. But you know you can’t endure another heartbreak, you won’t survive it. 

-

It’s been days, nearly a week. Your mind is frazzled, and you think that maybe it’s time for a break. A quiet time to let your mind rest and restore itself. 

So much has happened, and you can’t put your finger on what was the most stressful part of it all. The quickness, the escalation, the chaos… or what it almost cost you. 

Erik is temporarily defeated, but you know he’ll keep at it in the future. There were several mutants in his gathering that were unapprehended after the final battle. It will make for an interesting hunt that the X-men get to pursue.

One of which you wouldn't mind letting go about her business for a while. You knew Mystique when she went by Raven. 

So much has changed since then, and you've changed with the time gone by.

There's still something on your mind after everything that's happened this week, and of course that something is Logan. His past, his present, and what he wants to do with his future. 

He’s an X-man now, a part of the team and a member of the mutant family… but he searches for who he is, and you can sympathize with that, especially because of what he did for you. He didn’t just do it for you, but with the state you were in, he could have passed your cell, given up on you. Instead, he practically carried you out of that prison, never knowing how lethal your touch was. He saved you and gave you the greatest gift you’d received. Hope. A fresh start. The thought that life didn’t have to be such a burden. 

The kids were settled in early this evening, after the late night that was pulled the day prior, they needed to catch up on their rest… but Logan was having a hard time sleeping. You were, too. 

It was about eleven when he came knocking on the door, softly so nobody else would hear him. Ororo was behind the door next over from yours, her light on beneath the slit in that door, and he mentally kicked himself for even doing this at all, so late at night. 

When you cracked open your own door, peeking through to see who it was, you were surprised at the man standing in the doorway. 

“Logan? What are you doing up? It’s late…”

“Yeah, I know,” he whispered, just above the level you were speaking at, voice barely audible. “I wanted to talk to you.”

You were unsure of what there was to talk about, really. It had been radio silence since the mission, and you figured he wanted some space after something like that… it wasn’t unusual for an X-man, but you didn’t know him as well, so you didn’t know what you were supposed to expect. 

“Can I come in?” he asked, and it was only now that you realized you’d been frozen in your spot, a furrowed brow worn on your face. 

“Yeah, sorry.”

You closed the door behind him when he passed through, going back to your bed to sit down. He followed suit, and it was nearly a reverse image of the first night he arrived. 

“I wanted to thank you,” he cleared his throat, trying to sound grateful. “For saving my life. Jean told me what you did.”

You smiled a little and scoffed, shaking your head and waving him off. “Don’t thank me… I actually endangered your life.”

“I’m still here, aren’t I? Whatever you did, it saved me.”

“I had no idea that it would, it could have gone either way,” you argued, not for the sake of being right, but because you didn’t want him to think you’d done something extraordinary or heroic. You were actually being quite selfish in your actions. 

“You like to argue a lot, huh?” he teased, remembering the last one on one conversation you both had. You would admit, you didn’t like being wrong. You’d gotten it in your head that after being alive for so long, you ought to know more than everyone. 

“Well, I am a lawyer,” you shrugged, a slight smirk on your face. You’d never practiced in a firm, or even got a law related job, but you liked to remind people of it here and there, it was always entertaining. 

“I noticed that certificate on your wall the other night, noticed em’ all, actually…” he trailed, throwing a glance over his shoulder to check and make sure they were all still there. He’d come to the conclusion that you were intelligent the first time you met, your dialect being very formal for the age he thought you were… but above that, you carried yourself in a way that spoke to being knowledgeable. 

“Oh, those?” you laughed, tilting your head and making a silly face in their direction. “Those are nothing, just reminders of all the times I’ve been bored.”

“Bored? You’re kidding me,” he mused, crossing his arms and chuckling. 

“Maybe I also wanted to better myself a little,” you answered truthfully, rolling your eyes after getting it out. He didn’t seem like the scholarly type. Not a bad thing by any means, but you were sure his abilities far accelerated him in other occupations before he ended up here.

“Well whatever the reason, you’ve clearly done good,” he complimented, and you were certainly not complaining. Getting compliments from your friends, from your mutant family, it uplifted you… but getting a compliment from him? It felt different, more weighted. “And whatever you did to save me, that was good too.”

“I didn’t even know it would work,” you huffed, looking down at your hands. You hadn’t touched him since he came in, and you weren’t sure if it was because you were doing so purposely, or if you just hadn’t gotten the opportunity. “I honestly thought I might kill you faster…”

“Then why would you have tried it?” He couldn’t believe you. A smart girl like you, with the power you held? It seemed out of character to make a decision like that.

“Honestly?” you raised your brows, thinking of a sentence that didn’t sound weird, or selfish. “I was scared you were gonna die before I could know you.”

He tilted his head slightly in confusion. “You want to know me?” 

“I do,” you nodded with a sheepish smile. Thank God for the darkness in the room, because you’re sure your face is turning red. “I mean, it’s not everyday that I meet someone I can shake hands with, so…”

He laughed a little, reaching out playfully for a handshake. You smiled wide, taking his hand and giving it a nice firm shake. You’ve shaken hands when wearing gloves, but it’s just not the same. You’ve touched others while wearing them, too. But the skin contact you’ve always been deprived of, it’s something that sends chills down your spine, no matter how simple the gesture is. Even just a handshake. 

“I’d like you to know me too, but there’s just one problem with that,” he sighs, shaking his head in a bit of something akin to sadness. “I don’t know me.”

You can’t stand to see that look on his face. His hand was still wrapped around yours, now resting on his knee and near your lap. An idea springs to your mind, and though it’s a terrible one, you think about all the good it could produce in the long run. 

“What if I could help you remember?” You suggested, grabbing his attention almost immediately. “You’ve said you don’t remember anything past fifteen years ago… that’s when you saved me from Striker.”

“You think you could help me?” 

“I can try, I owe it to you.” Your reasoning made him turn the idea over in his head, but he wasn’t sure of how you planned to help him, exactly. “Something must have happened that day to make you forget… we can go back to the base, look for answers, see if anything triggers your memories?” 

It was a bold move, but you had to take it. No matter what happened the other night, you still owe him your life, and this could be a way to even the playing field. 

“You’d take me there?” he asked sincerely, a bit surprised that you would even offer, considering what he knew of your time in that prison. You shouldn’t want to return at all, but what’s worse is you want to do it for him. 

“I would… If you want me to.” 

He grinned, his look of bewilderment still laced in. “I would be grateful, if you could.”

“It’s settled then.”

He nodded to you, and you both gave a glance to the door. It was time to say goodnight, though you wanted him to stay and talk till sunrise. You had so many questions, about him, about his life since Striker, and even about his abilities… but it would have to wait till another time. 

He got up, and you followed, getting to the door before you heard voices outside of it. 

“It’s Ororo,” you sighed, turning to him and huffing. “I don’t know who she’s talking to…”

“I better not let her see me sneaking around this late,” he said, looking back at you with a comical expression. “I have a feeling that she’ll tattle on me.”

“You’re right, she would.” You stood with your ear to the door, hearing that the other voice in the hall was Jean. They were talking about you, and you figured it was not a good time to let the Wolverine go traipsing out of your room. “You know, you don’t have to go… if you don’t want to. You could just stay here tonight.”

His smirk held a bout of confidence before he spoke, “You sure I’m not crowding your space?” 

“I’ve got plenty of room,” You nodded to the queen bed you’d stood up from. In all truthfulness, it was a big bed to sleep in alone, and you’d been forced to for over a decade. “You also just happen to be the only person who wouldn’t die if I accidentally kicked you in the middle of the night.”

He laughed, nodding his head. He didn’t want to leave in the first place, he just felt like maybe he’d been imposing. Tough luck on that, because if you had your way, he’d stay longer than just the night. 

“With an argument like that, how can I say no?” 

“I might not sleep for a while, though… so if you wanna turn in, be my guest,” you sat back on the bed, shoving your walkman with the headphones to your side so he could settle in next to you. 

“Couldn’t really sleep already, that's why I came here in the first place.” He started eyeballing the walkman, scooting in closer to where you sat, legs crossed and back against your pillows and headboard. “You got music?” 

“Oh, uh… yeah, just a little mixtape I’ve been listening to.” 

You’d just rewound the tape earlier, and almost put it over your ears when you found you couldn’t sleep. Maybe it would have settled the noise in your brain… but Logan seemed to do a pretty good job of that, too.

“May I?” He gently reached for the set, and your heart stuttered in beat when you saw the sweet look in his eyes.

“Yeah, of course,” You handed it over with a smile, no hesitation, even though this new mixtape was built primarily on the feelings for him you’d been fighting. “It’s mostly just girl stuff…”

He put the headphones on and started listening, and you felt a bit awkward just watching him listen to the music, unsure if he would piece anything together or not. 

The first song played was Fields of Gold by Sting… just a soft ballad that made you think of what life might be like if things were different. 

By the second song, you pulled the plug of the headphones, letting the music play softly through the speaker instead so you could both hear it. It felt much better when you could listen to the music yourself. Music always calmed you down, made you feel more at ease.

You helped him fast forward through some of the songs he seemed bored during, but he stopped you on a few, nodding his head and smiling as the music filled his ears. 

“You like this one?” You asked, watching him start tapping his fingers to the song I Was Made For Lovin’ You by Kiss.

“This is my kinda music, right here,” he laughed, letting loose a little, breaking down his tough exterior just slightly so you could see the softness lurking behind. 

The noise from outside your door had long gone, but Logan didn’t seem eager to leave whatsoever… you did after all invite him to stay. 

When the song Wicked Game came on, you opted to skip it, and he grabbed the tips of your fingers to pull your hand away and ask why. The intro kept playing, the somber guitar filling the air between you. 

“It’s a sad song, kinda haunting,” you explained, but the real reason you were trying to skip it was because you’d rewound this one a bit too much when thinking about him, the lyrics seeming to match up to every time you looked at him the way you were now. “It’s not as fun as the others.”

“I’ll be the judge of that,” he said, taking the walkman and holding it so that you couldn’t skip the song yet. 

World was on fire, and no one could save me but you

Strange what desire will make foolish people do

You looked up at him and he seemed to really be into the music, but his brow was furrowed, like he was thinking about it in real time. 

I never dreamed that I’d meet somebody like you

You had to look away from him for a moment, your face turning red and your eyes falling to your lap.

And I never dreamed that I’d lose somebody like you

No, I don’t wanna fall in love

No, I don’t wanna fall in love… with you

You took a glance back up, seeing his face and the way it seemed to turn almost upset by the lyrics. You almost thought about reaching for the walkman, but his death grip on it looked too strong to break. 

“The next one is pretty good,” you smiled, trying to lighten the mood. He broke out of his trance and nodded, handing the device back to you. 

The smooth and laid back energy returned to the room, and you could feel the peace of it engulfing you as you absorbed the energy from the air. It fed you, made you stronger, happier. 

You couldn’t even help yourself by the time it got to the end of the playlist, the last song making you quietly sing aloud in front of someone you barely know… which was strange considering you wouldn’t even sing in front of your dearest and closest friends. 

The song just did that to you… it used to remind you of a love you once lost, but because of the lyrics, you were starting to associate the beautiful melody with another face. The one looking back at you with a small lip tug of a smile. 

The song in question? More Than Words by Extreme. 

You didn’t look at him when you sang it, because you were already falling too hard, too fast. You needed to slow down… but just thinking about the lyrics… 

More than words, is all you have to do to make it real

Touching someone for the first time is more than words can express… sitting side by side with someone without fear of hurting them means more than words could possibly say.

When the song ended you stopped the tape, setting it to rewind and putting it over on your bedside table. 

“Not bad… that last one, I’ve heard it a few times somewhere else. It’s pretty good.”

“Yeah, I like it better than the others,” you said jokingly, as if he couldn’t already tell by how easily the words came out of your mouth. “Saved the best for last, right?” 

“I’d say so,” he wouldn’t look anywhere else but you, and you felt so powerless under his stare. You were folding in record time, and honestly at this point, you’d count it as a miracle if you made it out of this night without ruining it all.

“You tired yet?” you asked, changing the subject and pulling back your sheets. 

“I’m getting there…” 

His soft and pretty hazel eyes were starting to make you wish you’d not invited him. He was making this difficult. You wanted to know him, and not just physically. There would be time for that, but you had to wait and make sure he was the one.  You weren’t willing to let yourself love him to the ends of the earth if you weren’t going to be able to keep him. It would just haunt you for the rest of your long and burdened life.

“Me too, but uh… I’m gonna try and finish my book,” you smiled, reaching for the novel on your bedside table. Fahrenheit 451. “So, just turn in whenever you’re tired.”

He debated asking you about the book, but ultimately decided that he’d bothered you enough for one night. It seemed like something he might research himself, if it was something you like. You obviously have good taste in music, maybe he ought to give reading the same books as you a try. 

He’d never admit it, because it wasn’t like him to do such a thing, but he liked being around you. Liked touching you. The energy you gave off was pleasant, and every time your skin connected, he absorbed a little bit of it from you. Something that would kill anyone else, he got to experience first hand. 

He smiled and lied down, giving a glance over his shoulder before he settled in. Your bed was warmer than his, more comfortable, too. “G’night, Alice.”

Your grin compared to his was like a young schoolgirl, completely and utterly lovestruck for the boy you met last week. 

“Night, Logan.”

Tags: @ayamenimthiriel @levislegislation @reidsworld @melsunshine @clairealeehelsing

[abigailovesz]

SHE KNEW...I THINK.

summary: part 2 of birds of a feather. the aftermath of your death is the hardest most terrifying experience jj has ever experienced, and of course he has to pick up all the pieces- your room, your belongings. the worst part? he finds something he won't ever forget.

music: IFHY instrumental - tyler the creator (beginning)

warnings: angst is written all over this, swearing, may cause heartache and some tears im sorry, mentions of death, swearing, flashbacks, italics are flashbacks/ past times.

IT'D BEEN 2 months already.

2 months since you'd been shot - murdered. 2 months since jj lost a part of himself, honestly - to jj - he'd lost all of himself.

jj had gone through the hard part. the funeral - the one where he watched your body lowering into the depths of the earth where he'd never see you again. Never. and the faces of people who had only spoken one single word to you? the tears running down there faces, a handkerchief clutched in there hand. God.

God, it was so pathetic.

Months later, JJ stood before a sea of somber, pathetic faces, their eyes fixed on him as he clutched the podium with white knuckles. jj's gaze drifted over the crowd, landing on the casket at the front of the aisle. The polished wood gleamed under the soft lighting, a mocking reminder of the stillness inside.

He cleared his throat, the sound echoing through the microphone and piercing the heavy silence. "I...shit, i cannot believe im standing here," he began, his voice cracking on the last word - already. "I never thought I'd have to say goodbye like this. Not to her."

"I thought we had more time," he whispered, his eyes locked onto the casket as if he could see her through the wood.

after that, he'd never be the same again.

and it was true because he wasn't the same. no more off the hook jokes, no more snarky replies, no more fun. jesus, the term fun felt non existant to him. The past 2 months, his body stayed slotted either on the couch, under his bed sheets, or the chair on the dock.

he couldn't go in the hammock. not when it was your spot.

even looking at the thing hanging between the two trees out in the back of the hot tub made his throat constrict and his eyes water immediately.

11 years old.

"pleaaase can we get the one with blue stripes? the pink is too..." jj paused, blinking a few times before clasping his fingers to his palm - a sassy gesture. "girly." you snickered at the gesture but then silence. "Nope, we're getting the pink one, whether ya like it or not you-" you crinkled your nose, contemplating.

"blondie."

jj groaned with a high pitched drawl, throwing his head back from where he stood beside you in the story aisle - adventure aisle to be specific. - "oh come on! i told you if you call me that one more time, im gonna tell john b to gimme a pair of scissors so i can.. cut your hair alllll off." he teased while fidgeting with your hair.

you squealed, smacking his hand away. "okay okay ill stop!"

jj chuckled, rubbing his hand dramatically before speaking. "we're getting the blue one."

so, that hammock that still hung outside - the blue one - was still standing. The look of it, no, the memories of it would always haunt him. It's just another thing mocking your absence.

2 days ago, your mother called jj and requested something - something he never ever wanted to do. but he blamed himself - for your death. he should have protected you, saved you. and of course, he didn't, he couldn't.

so he still did it.

he had to pack up all your things.

he had to go into your bedroom, grab cardboard boxes and fill them to the rim with each and every belonging your delicate skin had touched. he had a choice, an easy one at that - either throw the stuff away or keep it.

he's gonna keep it. No matter how painful it is, he can't get rid of everything. you wouldn't want that.

jj stood in the doorway of your bedroom, his heart heavy and his stomach churning. the room was just as you'd left it, a frozen snapshot of a life cut tragically short. Posters of her favorite bands and interests that reminded jj of her each time someone mentioned it.

he took a deep, shuddering breath and stepped inside, his feet sinking into the plush carpet that had once been a comfort to him - of seeing her. the bed was unmade, the sheets still tangled where she'd last slept before the trip, a sight that made his chest ache with the cruel injustice of it all.

he started with the closet, his fingers brushing against the soft fabric of her dresses and shirt. and then, in one small bin - was the clothes she'd worn as a kid, the ones he saw her run through sand and grass with as a kid.

then - god, it all just broke. it all as in jj. all of jj.

one tear.

his hand fell with the small pink shirt - the little mermaid picture sealed onto the front clasped in his hand, his shoulders dropping in defeat. one single tear. it slipped out of his tired, worn down eyes and down his cheek - right onto the specific spot on the sleeve. a ice cream stain.

7 years old.

It was the kind of summer afternoon that made everything feel endless. the sun shimmered on the lake, the air buzzed with the scent of warm pine and chocolate ice cream. on the old wooden dock, jj sat beside you - you as in, you in your favorite pink shirt.

jj and you were deep in a fit of giggles, the kind that only comes from you coming up with some word that could be used in a different language. jj laughed so hard - being the kid he is - almost dropping his ice cream.

Nearly.

A small plop broke the rhythm of the moment.

A dark spot of chocolate landed right on the sleeve of your shirt, splattering across the pink cotton.

jj blinked, stiffling a chuckle at the face you pulled. "shit- oh i mean-"

you gasped, pointing a finger at him. "hey! no swearing-"

next, he tackled her desk, sitting down heavily in the chair. he ran his fingers along the smooth wood of your desk, tracing the path of the initials you both had carved together on a lazy afternoon. with a heavy sigh, he started to sort through the contents, his heart clenching at every memento he uncovered.

there were old photos of kie and john b pope and him, the edges worn and faded from being handled so many times. And then, tucked away in the back of the drawer, he found a letter.

It was a simple envelope, unassuming and plain, with his name scrawled across the front in your sloppy but readable handwriting. with trembling fingers, he tore it open, unfolding the single sheet of paper inside. As he read the words, his vision blurred and his breath caught in his throat.

hey blondie, 3 / 17 / 2021

so basically me and kiara decided to write letters and create some video because we saw it on youtube about - 'writing letters to people to read if i ever die.' its stupid but we were bored off our asses so dont blame me, blame kie.

if you're reading this, it's probably something you'd make fun of me for haha or maybe i am dead who knows, i ain't got no crystal ball or whatever sublime said. but anyway if i am dead, please dont look through my phone i'm begging there's some ridiculous shit on there - mostly you.

but seriously, if i die your gonna keep living and your gonna be the same dumbass person you are even though i probably won't die cause i got you n everyone - just please keep living.

Please don't blame yourself if it happens. you were the best thing that ever happened to me, and losing you is my worst fucking fear. if it happens- keep that photo of us. i dunno stick on your ass or something.

love, y/n

jj sat back in the chair, the letter crumpled in his hand, tears streaming down his face. he clutched it to his chest, his body shaking with the force of his sobs, the words etched into his heart as deeply as the initials on the desk.

the letter was so you. and that hurt.

with a final, shuddering breath, he folded the letter carefully and tucked it into his pocket, a piece of you to carry with him always - the letter and the bracelets, the hair tie he refused to take off of his wrist. he stood, his legs unsteady beneath him, and turned to face the empty room, a bittersweet smile tugging at his lips.

and in that moment he knew, he'd keep going. for you.

for the girl he'd loved every single day, every single hour, every single minute and every single second of his day.

maybe you knew. maybe you'd known he'd loved you - she knew. he was sure.

but that didn't matter anymore because he was left alone. with a letter that had broken his heart completely.

[sometimesanalice]

A prompt party, Alexa? How in the world did I miss that? I'd be over the moon if you could write a little something for Bradley + "i’m gonna marry you one day." 🪩 ✨

Rebecca! Now you know I’m always down to write a little something for a smitten Bradley! I hope you enjoy!

It was a surprisingly quiet night at the Hard Deck.

You could actually hear the music playing out of Penny's old juke box, rather than just the faint essence of notes for whatever oldie was queued up over the usual rowdy ruckus. And there were more empty chairs scattered about than there were taken ones.

It was one of the rare rainy days they got in San Diego. The gray skies and drizzle driving even the best of Uncle Sam's finest under blankets and curled up on couches.

Bradley always liked the moody weather. He liked the way the clouds seemed to cling to the coastline. He liked the rough rolling waves as they broke against the shore with more force than they usually did.

But he wasn't look out the bank of windows out towards the beach, in fact, he had his back turned to it.

Because he was looking at you.

Bradley had been trying to ask you out for the better part of two months now. And he was starting to think that you were giving him the runaround.

He'd learned that first evening that you were only filling in as a favor to Penny- she and your mom went way back as sorority sisters- for a few months as Jimmy recovered from his knee replacement surgery.

Under normal circumstances, he’d take the hint and move on. And even if his mom hadn’t raised him right- which she had- Rooster knew that just because someone was nice didn’t mean they were interested. Especially when it was their job.

But he couldn’t kick the feeling that there was something there.

All he needed was one date to prove it.

It was more than the way you always seemed to catch him looking, because you were looking right back. Or the way you’d slip him a free drink every now and then, saying it was on the house. Or the way you found a way to brush past him a little too close whenever you'd swing by with more peanuts for Bob or a fresh round of drinks for his friends.

You were so damn smart and funny as hell. He’d taken to spending less time on his ESPN app and more time on the NYT trying to find interesting topics to get to spend a extra few minutes with you. Nothing felt better than earning a smile from you.

But any time he got close to asking you out or asking for your number, you were pulled away by something or another. The sound of broken glass. A pointed throat clearing from a thirsty patron. An emergency trip to the storage closet.

Rain was good luck in some places, and Bradley needed all the luck he could get. It hadn’t been on his side in the past two month, but tonight was his night. He was sure of it.

Especially considering he was the only person seated at the bar.

You'd been popping out and checking on people, delivering refills personally to the few people who had braved the elements instead of having them come up to the bar.

Rooster was patient, he didn't mind waiting his turn. After all, he had a shiny new NYT subscription to keep him company.

He smiles to himself when you work your way back to the bar, grabbing the bowl of limes and a cutting board, and setting up right in front of him. He watches as you deftly slice and quarter the limes into wedges, their bright scent clinging in the air.

“Why does it feel like I’ve seen less of you tonight than I do when this place is packed?” Bradley asks, saving the article he was midway through before closing out of the app completely.

“I’m just a one woman show here tonight, I told Penny to stay home." You're tidy and efficient in the way you store the prepped wedges and work to clean up the already immaculate bar. "It's means a bit more running around for me. But I don't mind, I like to keep busy."

"So I've noticed."

You look up at him from under your lashes, as you wipe down the prep space. "Have you been keeping tabs on me, Rooster?"

"Now I know you're teasing me." He sets his phone down and levels a look at you. "Because we both know you catch me looking often enough to know the answer to that."

You press your lips together, but the corners curl up anyways.

"Oh, Bradley," you say with a soft sigh. "Bradley, Bradley, Bradley..."

And then your eyes drop purposefully down.

The two of you stare at his phone sitting on the shiny bar top.

"You wouldn't," he rasps.

"I think I'm legally obligated to. There's a very official wood sign and everything." You look the picture of innocence, but you don't fool him.

"Sweetheart, c'mon."

"Are you asking me to bend the rules for you? Just because Penny isn't here?" You tsk, with a self-satisfied smile. "And here I thought you were a Boy Scout."

Bradley just shakes his head amused as you sashay up to the bell and give it a loud, long ring. A couple whoops go up in response, but no one gets up. Yet.

You walk back towards him with an all too pleased smile.

"I think you enjoyed that."

You smile wider and don't deny it. "I can't lie, it is a fun perk of the job."

He sighs. "And here I thought we had something special."

"Stop that, you're too pretty to pout," you tease. "You gave me no choice. I don't make the rules, I just follow them. And as much as I love Penny, I have a healthy dose of-"

"-fear-"

You smirk. "I was going to say respect. But also you're not wrong."

"And what about me?" he asks, sitting up straighter on his stool. "What are your impressions of me?"

"Oh you?" You tilt your head to the side, letting your gaze linger on his face as you muse. "You look like trouble."

"Do I now?"

"Mmhm. I thought it from the moment I saw you strut through that door." You say it like you're letting him in on a secret. "And there’s something you should probably know about me."

He leans in closer. "And what's that?"

You mirror him, leaning in as well and resting your elbows on the counter. Your face is just inches from his. “I’m really good at getting into trouble.”

He grins. “I’m gonna marry you one day.”

You tip your head back and laugh, it’s the best sound he thinks he’s ever heard. 

“That’s a bold statement from the man who still has yet to ask me out on a date.”

He opens his mouth, to do just that, after months of failed attempts. And then another one of the patrons saddles up to the bar, waving you down for your attention.

Rooster groans.

"Alas, it appears I have another gentleman caller," you sing, reaching for the towel and waving it like a handkerchief in his direction. "Guess I'll be seeing you around, Bradley. Maybe at the end of an aisle, who knows, the night is young."

The smile you give him promises that this conversation isn't over yet.

You spin away from him and don’t give him a second glance as you head over towards the thirsty man whose beer is going on his tab, but there’s a sway in your hips that wasn’t there before.

And Bradley thinks to himself, this is going to be fun. 

[cloudcountry]

Here me out!

Mc. . . . .is any type of nymph . . .Your choice of characters-

SUMMARY: jin, sho, ritsu, subaru, and haku getting to know a nymph!

COMMENTS: i asked my friends what kind of nymph they would be for this project a hot second ago 🧍‍♀️ then i took a uquiz and it told me i would be a LAMPAD??? which are protectors of the underworld. writing that for ritsu was an interesting experience (；´д｀）ゞ

TAGGING: @cherievivi / @vioisgoinginsane / @amaribelt / @twstchatterbox thank u guys for going along w my random question HASJHDSAHGD well except for rubia bc she was Obvious

Jin Kamurai

Jin sees you in the garden from time to time, just sitting with the flowers and staring at the sky. Sometimes, if he feels like it, he’ll come down and sit with you.

He likes those moments. It’s peaceful to be with you, letting his eyes drift along your robes, letting his soul slowly merge with yours.

You’re so untouched. Frostheim and his legacy and Darkwick hasn’t made a single blemish on you, and it soothes him.

He’d cut down anyone who tried to hurt you, anyway.

You seem to like his classical music choices a lot, and so he’ll play them for you every time he sees you outside.

Jin watches you scale trees and run barefoot through the forest, quickly and light as a feather. You are truly in your element when you're free.

And when you’re free, you’re the happiest he’ll ever see you. He knows that well.

Sho Haizono

The first time Sho ever saw you, he nearly ran you over. He hadn’t been driving too dangerously, even though Leo had insisted he get those errands done immediately so he had to take a shortcut through the forest and...

He can tell you’re foraging right away. Sho knows he spooked you, but you’re still staring at him from behind that tree, so maybe he didn’t totally frighten you off? He’d feel bad if he did.

And so, he keeps meeting up with you, watching over your shoulder as you take care of the forest animals and show him different edible plants.

Leo asks him where he’s going and he doesn’t respond, unwilling to give you up. Who knows what Leo would do if he knew you existed.

He’s grown to really, really care about you. And if there’s a single thing Sho would ever ask of you, it’s for you to feel the same about him.

Ritsu Shinjo

Ritsu, despite all of his talk of having an unbreakable composure, does find himself drawn to you. Maybe it’s because of the lamp light you shine when situations get dire, or the mysterious way your robe cascades down your shoulders, but he wants to know more.

And so, he asks. He introduces himself as Ritsu Shinjo, Sinostra first year, paralegal. If you have any problem, don’t hesitate to come to him, and here is his business card.

Your expression is as aloof as always, and if it wasn’t for his unbreakable spirit he might have viewed you turning your back on him as rejection.

But it wasn’t. You took his card.

Despite the fact that you do not contact him, he still sees you around, and strikes up conversations with you. It’s hard to get a hold of your behavioral model because he always finds you somewhere else.

You seem to gravitate towards Hotarubi for reasons unknown. You spend a lot of time with Rui. When placed in a situation where fatalities rise, you are unaffected.

Fascinating.

Subaru Kagami

It’s impolite to stare, Subaru knows this well. But part of him can’t help it when it comes to you. Your hair is like the drooping, soft petals of the wisteria, and your robes are as delicate as fallen leaves against the sunlight.

You seem eager to be around him, never quite saying much but always wrapping your arms around him.

He jumped the first few times, expecting the rush of memories. It never comes.

Subaru doesn’t know what it is about you that jams his stigma, but he revels in it. Being able to freely touch another person not only delights him, but you too.

He can tell. Perhaps you’re one in the same.

He takes you for walks around Hotarubi’s grounds, watching you lean over the side of the lake and stare at the petals in the water.

He tells you your hair is pretty, you smile and duck your head behind it, bashful.

Subaru’s heart stumbles on his chest, and he thinks he might love you.

The strangest beauty he’s ever met.

Haku Kusanagi

Haku wishes he could dive into you and live in the coolness you embody. It’s a crime that he can’t spend every waking moment staring into your eyes, or marveling at your hair, or whispering praise into your skin.

You’ve fought hard to be where you are, and Haku knows that well. He’s hesitant to say he knows it better than anyone, but if he were being honest (and not humble for once) he does.

He’s glad you dedicated to make the land your home, to stay up here with him when you could be in someplace that would be arguably more comfortable.

That’s why he takes you to the lakes in Hotarubi, watching you like you’re a goddess as you swim and splash and float in the misty waters.

He’d do so much just to see you happy, don’t you know that already?

So how can he convince you that all his flirting is serious?

How can he get you to realize that he wants to be yours?

[moesthoughts]

hii! could u write (fem) reader getting like rlly drunk and travis has to take care of her bc i feel like he’d be so sweet 💔 (can be pre or post crash or even in the wilderness, whichever one u prefer)

have a good day or night!! <3

always by your side

blackout drunk doesn’t sound so bad when you had a horrible week at school, luckily your friend Lottie Matthews throws a party at her house. After having a little too much to drink, Travis Martinez of all people finds you at your most vulnerable moment.

pairing ➥ travis martinez x fem reader

warnings ➥ travis being a dickhead at the beginning, pure fluff, puke mentions, alcohol, pre crash

Nausea is an understatement for what you’re feeling right now, your head is pounding, you can barely stand up because of how imbalanced you are, you’re shaky beyond belief, and you’re alone on Lottie’s bedroom floor, trying desperately to get back onto your feet. The solo cup you held in your hand is discarded somewhere on the floor, the spiked juice spilt with it. You feel like you’re going to throw up all your insides from the amount of pain you are in currently. You manage to curl up into a ball, and trying to focus on not throwing up.

An ounce of hope fills your soul as you hear the door creak open, the soft beat of music playing downstairs fills your ears again. You forgot you’re at a party, it’s almost too quiet up in Lottie’s room. You turn over to see who stumbled upon you, just to be met with the face of Travis Martinez. You don’t even care who it is that managed to find you, all you need is someone to be there to help you. Travis wears a face of judgement, he scans your face and instantly notices you’re drunk as hell. A groan comes from his lips, he realizes he has to be the unwilling victim to help you.

“Coach… Travis— Nope. You’re his son.”

You blabber out, and his eyebrows instantly furrow at the mention of his dad. Of course you have to recognize him because of his dad, and not the little chats you’ve had now and then. He can’t blame you, since you’re obviously not well. He puts his solo cup down and bends his knees to take a better look at you.

“How much did you drink to get this drunk? Jesus woman.”

He practically whispers, causing you to squint your eyes due to not being able to hear him. Travis really zones in when you start gagging, he quickly goes to pull you up to your feet, struggling a bit since you’re basically limp. He holds your arm around his shoulder, and keeps a gorilla grip on your waist. He feels a bit wrong holding you like this, but whatever gets the job done. He rushes you towards the bathroom when you start gagging more, he makes sure you’re over the toilet before shutting the door so nobody can see you in this state.

“Travis— I.. I’m sorry. You shouldn’t need to—“

You cut yourself off by puking, Travis winces. He feels horrible, the frustration from earlier wearing off. Here he is, standing in the corner of Lottie Matthew’s bathroom with his arms crossed, watching you folded over the toilet, throwing up your intestines. Hesitantly, he makes his way over to you before crouching beside the toilet. His hand goes to your back, his calloused fingers comfortingly rubbing the skin. The amount of tension in your muscles lessens, and you start to relax a little even if it was getting hard to breathe. You have someone by your side, even if it is the Coach’s son. He’s being a sweetheart, which is surprising.

“Just— don’t puke up your liver or something, you need that.”

Travis tries to joke, a small smile breaking onto his face. You snort, wiping your mouth with your hand. His hand is still on your back, scratching it hoping it’ll make you more relaxed. Even if you’re still kissing the toilet. For once, Travis actually thought of himself as useful, you’re smiling even if you’re dry heaving, and you’re not puking on Lottie’s floor, so that’s one less mess to clean up. Finally, you stop puling. He runs a towelette under cold water and places it on your forehead, He slowly starts to lay you down until your head is on his lap, he brushes stray hairs out of your face.

“You’re actually.. a great guy.”

Travis gets shy, averting his eyes as a faint shade of red kisses his cheeks. He rests his hands on your shoulders, rubbing circles into them in hopes it’ll bring comfort. He hasn’t realized how pretty you actually are, your eyelashes, the gorgeous eye color you have, how pretty your lips are. He can’t deny the butterflies swarming in his stomach, and the hue change on his face. The way you smile at him just makes it ten times worse, he presses his lips together as he looks down at you, a girl he barely knows who’s head is in his lap, smiling up at him like he’s you’re boyfriend.

“Do— Do you want water?”

He stutters out, suddenly trying to help you sit up. You nod with a confused expression on your face, you realize how red in the face he really is. Once he props you up onto the wall he runs out the bathroom, using his excuse to recompose himself. One thing is, you drive him up the walls.

pre crash travis… everyone saying they miss doe eyed shauna, I MISS DOE EYED TRAVIS

req me!

masterlist

[thatsdemko]

Monaco lover - d.ricciardo

masterlist

requested: n

pairings: Daniel ricciardo x fem!reader

summary: with Daniel not racing, he begins to find new hobbies with his wife.

warnings: established relationships + fluff

a/n: only right I post for daniels bday!!

the basket in his hand is beginning to get heavier by the second, as you keep adding fresh fruits and vegetables from the little local farmers market.

you’re more than hours away from the loud music, busy streets, and the infamous Monaco circuit. your new home is a perfect escape from the city of formula 1.

it was Daniels decision to move away from the big lights and party animals after he no longer had a seat on the 2023 grid. he wanted a reset on life, and there was no perfect way to do it than far away from the cameras.

“you think we have enough to feed everyone?” you look at the overgrowing basket in his arms. leaves of lettuce and kale are hanging out brushing against his thighs as you walk up and down the slow streets.

“more than enough.” he assured you with a chuckle. it’s been weird to have Daniel home so often. you don’t hate it, formula 1 once took the man you loved and wore him down into a shell of himself. now away from the McLaren and happily in a reserve seat for Red Bull, you can begin to see that smile brighten everyday.

“well then let’s go home and wash everything, I’m starving.” you loop your arm through his and let him lead the way to your car, one he knows he won’t get caught or stopped in.

it’s not hard to be recognized, he’s had neighbors stop him while mowing the lawn or gardening with you, but they mostly respect your space unlike the people of Monte Carlo, where the flashing of cameras never stop.

“what are you going to eat first? those strawberries looked really tasty.” he sets the basket in the back seat, before opening your passenger door planting a sweet kiss to your lips.

“I was thinking about those peaches, but now that you say the strawberries, I might have to join you on that.”

“not if I finish them first.”

—

you can’t tell if he’s bored or if he genuinely enjoys cutting the grass, gardening, and the small town farmers markets. you know there’s a certain thrill he’s missing, and maybe he does all these things to occupy his mind of the itch to get back.

but right now, he’s deep into a conversation with your neighbors about the lawn and your backyard garden. he’s showing them the vegetables, herbs, fruits, and flowers he’s planted like they are his children.

it’s weird to you, to see him this way, because all you ever knew was Daniel ricciardo, the racer of fast cars. now he’s the friendly helpful neighborhood hand.

“so you and the misuses are going away next week? where to?” you watch Daniel mock the man’s stance, hands on his hips nodding along as they walk to the backyard.

“just Miami, we shouldn’t be gone for too long.”

“Miami? what are you doing down there?” he asks, quizzical look taking his face. the perks of being away from the chaos of Monte Carlo, meant not everyone in this little small town knew Daniel. and that included your elder neighbors who loved you both dearly.

“just some work stuff, nothing crazy.”

“I thought you were unemployed?”

Daniel laughs, you can hear it from where you sit on the couch, “it’s a lot more complicated than unemployed.” and it truly was, while Daniel was bringing home the big bucks from not driving for mclaren, he anxiously awaits an opportunity for a Red Bull seat this season. some say unemployed delusions, Daniel calls it optimism.

he shakes his head, “you kids these days, you keep me on my toes.” he pats Daniels shoulder, “make sure you two come over later for dessert, okay?”

“oh we wouldn’t miss it.” Daniel waves him off before going inside to find you still wrapped up in the blankets, but this time wide awake with a smile.

“you have fun with your friend?” you sit upright crawling onto your knees to meet him for a kiss. he just laughs wrapping his arms around your neck and pressing s kiss to those lovely lips he calls home.

“I hope when I’m older I turn out to be just like him. tan, happy, and always making dessert.” he laughs a little hoping his future turns out like that. he’s already got the most perfect wife, and soon enough he’ll have the most perfect little family.

“he does make some stellar desserts. his wife is lucky, I wonder when my husband will start making me desserts.” you joke recalling when Daniel attempted to make boxed brownies, and somehow burnt them to a cracker.

“I’ll just stick with growing you fresh fruit and veggies, how about that?”

“I’ll take it.”