#just. go look at people for ten minutes. just take a minute. just look. at a photo.

[dear-ao3]

good evening my friends romans and fellow countrymen, i come to you with yet another tale.

so as you may or may not know i live with my best friend, tumblr mutual and fellow mod katya. and tonight we have found ourselves in a situation.

so today was friday. after a harrowing day at work katya and i had an eventful day of errands planned because we are normal people who have to spend money to survive. and also katya is going on a trip this weekend and needed some things. one of those things happened to be shorts.

let me be incredibly clear: there is nothing special about these shorts. but there is also a lot special about these shorts.

the shorts themselves came from marshalls. if you don’t know what marshall’s is, it’s one of those stores that sells weird brands you’ve never heard of but also brand name stuff that is overstock from brand name stores that they sell them at a reduced rate. these shorts were from one of the weird no name brands. and came in a two pack. one pair was gray and one was purple. both pairs were marked as a small but the purple ones were definitely a medium mismarked as a small. and they were, again, nothing special. just a pair of really soft sweat shorts. fleece insides. drawstring.

we did go look for another pair of them, but there were no other ones in that size. we also tried to look online but the marshalls shop interface sucks and yielded us absolutely zero results for each or the 10 keyword combinations we tried. and. on top of that. when we asked a worker they said they didn’t know if they had any more and also couldn’t be bothered to check.

regardless. we purchased the shorts. well. i purchased the shorts. for a grand total of 16.99. and we decided that katya would take the gray ones and i would take the purple ones.

upon returning to our apartment we decided to wash the shorts along with a fluffy throw blanket that katya also needed to purchase for his travels.

and so, around 5:30pm on friday june 6, which also happened to be national doughnut day even though that has nothing to do with the story, katya and i put the two pairs of shorts and the blanket into one of the washing machines in our apartment laundry room.

and then promptly forgot that it existed for a few hours.

admittedly, we were dealing with other things. but i will be the first to say that we did forget about the laundry for roughly 4.5 hours.

when i did finally remember the laundry, at 9:10pm, i went down to go retrieve it from the washing machine to find the most peculiar thing.

all of the lights were off for some reason. this has never happened before.

all of the washers were open. this has also never happened before.

the washer that i had used was open and inside was the blanket, and one pair of purple shorts. the gray ones were nowhere in sight.

sorry, let me just hit you with that again:

someone stole a pair of brand new gray sweatshorts, sopping fucking wet, out of a washing machine. seemingly just for the love of the game.

and this, my friends and romans, was not a game that i respected in the slightest.

because remember, katya needed these shorts for his trip. that he leaves on in two days. and someone had stolen them. straight out of the washer.

why take the shorts and leave the objectively much nicer throw blanket, now i have absolutely no idea, but i am also not a laundry room shorts thief.

so i throughly searched the laundry room to no avail, took my remaining shorts and the blanket and marched upstairs and said to katya: “so we have a situation”

which was how we found ourselves in a target, ten minutes before it closed, being serenaded by bryan adams’s summer of 69, while hunting for a replacement pair of gray sweatshorts. we did find some, but they were nary as nice as the marshalls no name shorts, which both of us, predictably, had become rather attached to after our traumatic experience.

and then, to top it off, we nearly t boned someone at an intersection while leaving the target, because some loser in a white toyota camry decided to run a red light while we had a green arrow. and then also had the audacity to yell at us and flip us off. all while we were listening to celtic symphony by the wolfe tones.

i almost died while listening to some guys chant ooh ah up the rah all because of a pair of no name marshall’s sweatshorts that some loser decided to steal out of the washer.

[rafesteddy]

𝓢𝓷𝓮𝓪𝓴𝔂 𝓛𝓲𝓷𝓴𝓼 𝖎𝖗𝖑/𝖘𝖒𝖆𝖚

𝓑𝓮𝓯𝓸𝓻𝓮 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓼𝓱𝓸𝔀…

𝚜𝚗𝚎𝚊𝚔𝚢𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚔𝚜!𝚛𝚊𝚏𝚎 𝚡 𝚜𝚗𝚎𝚊𝚔𝚢𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚔𝚜!𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 (baseball!rafe)

+18 -> smut | You didn’t expect much from tonight’s date—and got even less. But one message from Rafe changes the whole rhythm of the night. What starts casual might be getting dangerously close to something neither of you can ignore.

c/w: swearing, casual sex, jealousy, possessiveness, blurred boundaries, light humiliation, dirty talk, unprotected p in v, cum play, oral (female receiving after orgasms; both), spanking, slight choking, multiple positions, multiple orgasms, rafe says “I’ll kms” jokingly + banter during sex

𝓨𝓸𝓾 - 𝓓𝓮𝓾𝔁𝓪𝓿𝓮, 𝓑𝓸𝓼𝓽𝓸𝓷 𝓜𝓪𝓼𝓼𝓪𝓬𝓱𝓾𝓼𝓮𝓽𝓽𝓼…

You wore the dress because it made you feel good. Simple, black. A little backless. Not too much. It made you feel like you still knew how to show up—how to try, even when you weren’t sure why you were bothering.

You met him on Raya. His profile was filled with sunset gym selfies, gold chains, and at least one yacht that didn’t belong to him. But your friends insisted. ‘He’s hot. Give him a chance.’

You gave him a chance and now here you are, staring at a half-full glass of sparkling water while he tells a story about benching three plates and putting a coach ‘in his place’.

“Like, bro. Don’t test me,” he says, laughing and pointing at his own chest. “I’m not that guy. I don’t play submissive.” You nod in agreement, trying your hardest not to look at the clock. He smirks. “You get it. You’re chill. That’s hot.”

Holy shit… This is dating now? Endless one-way talking. Endless egos. And you’re starting to think being “chill” just means letting men be mediocre without calling them out for it.

𝓡𝓪𝓯𝓮 - 𝓒𝓸𝓷𝓽𝓮𝓼𝓼𝓪, 𝓑𝓸𝓼𝓽𝓸𝓷 𝓜𝓪𝓼𝓼𝓪𝓬𝓱𝓾𝓼𝓮𝓽𝓽𝓼…

He met her at the gym. She stopped him mid-set to ask about his program; hair slicked into a perfect ponytail, lashes too long to be natural. She smelled like vanilla and spray tan. He didn’t even think. Just said ‘yes’.

Now he’s here, picking at an overpriced plate trying not to wonder how fast he could get out of this without looking like an asshole.

“So you get paid to throw balls?” She teases, one manicured finger tracing the rim of her wine glass. “Kinda iconic.”

Rafe nods, smiling without teeth. She’s been talking about brand deals and algorithm slumps for twenty minutes straight. She hasn’t asked him a single question that didn’t have a “likes” count attached.

“Honestly,” she says, “I feel like people don’t understand how hard it is to stay relevant in this industry. 400 thousand likes and you’re a flop. You miss one trend and you’re done. Poof. Digital death.”

He coughs, trying to cover up a laugh, raising his beer to hers. “To survival.”

She rolls her eyes and giggles, lifting her glass as well. “You’re funny. You should be on TikTok more.”

𝓨𝓸𝓾 જ⁀➴

The food isn’t bad. It’s actually good. Which almost pisses you off more—because it means you can’t even use that as an excuse.

You were hopeful, foolishly so. You gave your hair the extra ten minutes, exfoliated, rehearsed your little “in your free time” spiel in case he didn’t respect your actual job. You wanted this to go well.

But now, with each story he tells—about how “soft” the world’s gotten, how “crazy” his ex was, how “girls just don’t know how to take a joke anymore”—you feel yourself slipping into that quiet, numb space in your mind. The one where you just let the man talk while you think about how cozy your sheets are going to be when you slide into them alone and what movie you're gonna put on instead.

“This was fun,” he says as he signals the waiter for the check, smiling like it’s a done deal. “We should grab a drink after this. My place is, like what, five minutes away. Killer view. Hot tub. You’ll love it, babe.”

You smile, but it’s thin. Doesn’t reach your eyes as you meet his across the table. “I think I’m gonna head home.”

He blinks, surprised. Taken aback. An answer this man surely isn’t used to hearing when he extends the offer. “C’mon. Just one drink.”

“I don’t really drink,” you murmur, fingers curling around the handle of your purse, two seconds away from bolting out the door honestly. He laughs, the sound loud in the quiet between you.

“Everyone drinks.”

“Not me.” A lie.

𝓡𝓪𝓯𝓮 જ⁀➴

The walk outside is short and silent until she brushes her shoulder against his, fingers grazing, desperately hoping to intertwine but they don’t. She looks up at Rafe, with a look on her beautiful face that usually pulls praise easily from men, but his mind is somewhere else.

“You should come over. Just for a little bit. I’ve got this sauna that would be so good for recovery. And a bottle of wine that’s basically a religious experience—”

“—Appreciate it,” he says, stopping her before she can even finish. “But I’ve got training early.”

She pouts her pillowy lips, batting her lashes which has almost the opposite effect on him. “You’re no fun.”

He pauses; lips tugging to the side as he weighs his options. Could say ‘yes’. Could let it play out. But everything about this feels empty. Another night of people pretending that this could go anywhere.

“Not tonight. But thanks—really. This was nice—” He closes the door of her Uber before she can reply, pocketing his keys, with someone better on his mind.

𝓑𝓪𝓬𝓴 𝓪𝓽 𝓗𝓸𝓶𝓮…

You shut the door, the quiet click too loud in the empty room. Your heels go first. Then your purse hits the floor with a heavy drop. The house is quiet in the way that always makes you feel a little lonelier after a night like this.

You move through the motions: wine, music, robe, lights dimmed low. You could call it self-care, but really, it’s just a ritual for disappointment.

You curl up on the couch with your legs tucked under you and sip slow, mumbling against the rim of your glass in his deep, stupid voice, “c’mon just one drink.” You laugh weakly as you toss some back, feeling the burn in your throat, and the sting of the night. Tonight, you just wanted something. And you got nothing.

You pull your phone into your lap; not even sure what you’re looking for, just running on autopilot, going through the motions, looking for a reason not to delete every dating app you’ve ever downloaded.

That’s when the notification lights up your screen.

It’s a gym selfie. No caption. Just sweat, muscle, and that familiar smirk. You bite your lip, swiping the screen to your text messages—and just as you do, the little text bubbles appear. Someone has the same idea…

Rafe: hey pretty. you free?

You don’t answer right away. But your fingers are already hovering.

He doesn’t follow up with a question mark or a ??? or where you at? Rafe never does. That’s part of the deal. You keep it easy. No pressure. No expectations. Just a simple rhythm you’ve both fallen into. The man shows just enough effort that he’ll drive by at night, looking up into your room. Curtains open, Spotify glowing through the glass, bedside light on. An unspoken, I’m home and ready, Rafe. The rest is up to you.

You set your phone down without replying, take one last sip of wine, and head to your bedroom. You already know he’s on his way.

You change into the cotton Calvin Klein set he always notices—the powdery white bralette, matching thong that isn’t meant to be sexy, but somehow always is. Comfortable. Soft. Barely a statement, which is exactly why he likes it.

You’re lying on your stomach, book open in front of you, toes grazing the edge of the comforter, when you hear his keys drop on the counter. A muffled “hey baby” to no one.

The door shuts; shoes hitting the floor with the same tired thud as your purse. You don’t look up when you hear the zipper. Don’t say a word when his shirt and jeans thump lightly onto the hallway floor; big feet pound against the hardwood with each swaggered shuffle, walking in like he lives here.

He doesn’t. But sometimes it feels like he could.

You feel the mattress shift beneath you before you see him. A familiar weight dips near your thighs. Then his hands plant on either side of your hips and he crawls up the bed in just his boxers, heavy and warm.

You gasp when he presses against you, his broad chest brushing your back, his mouth near your ear.

Your giggle slips out before you can stop it.

“Book club tonight?” He mutters, voice low and amused as he kisses your neck.

You roll your eyes, but before you can fire back, he grabs your hips and flips you onto your back. Rafe’s big body presses down into yours, your wrists pinned to either side of your head.

“Shit, look at you,” he hums.

His eyes roam your face, then drop to your lips. And for a moment neither of you says a thing.

You shift slightly beneath him, the cotton of your bralette stretching as you breathe in.

Rafe’s palms still frame your wrists, warm and rough, but he isn’t holding you down anymore. Not really. Just resting there, like he likes the excuse to touch you, taking this mental picture of you below him.

You tilt your chin up, your voice soft and sweet, making the corners of his lips curl into a smile.

“What’d you do tonight?” You whisper, cheeks heating up under the weight of his gaze.

“Went on a date.”

You quirk an eyebrow, saying so much with a single look. “And it went well?”

He lets out a frustrated groan, burning himself in your neck, saying even more with his tight embrace. Your words make him laugh, the warmth of his breath fanning across your throat. “Fuckin’ sucked,” he says, dipping his head until his nose brushes the curve of your jaw. “She thinks I could be TikTok famous. What do you think, baby? Think I should hang up the cleats?”

You stifle a giggle and fail. “The world will be a dark place without Rafe Cameron in baseball pants—”

“That’s what I said,” he mumbles as he nuzzles in closer. “Food was cold before she even ate it. She needed to get the perfect picture for her story or some shit.”

“Did you check her TikTok page?” You ask as you trace lazy circles on his back. “She might have called herself a WAG in the caption—”

“Please,” he chides, his eyes practically rolling out of his head, “Didn’t even make it to dessert.”

“That’s your favorite part,” you shoot back, tone light, as your fingers toy at the back of his hair. You feel him tense a little under your touch, breath hitching against your throat.

He lets out a half-growl, a sound that almost makes you smile. “Well shit,” he mutters, voice dropping a shade. “Maybe that’s why I’m so goddamn pissy, huh? Couldn’t take anymore. Made me wanna knock over the candle and light the table on fire—”

“Jesus fuck, Rafe,” you cut in with a laugh. “Why are you bein’ so hard on her I’m sure she was stunning—”

“—Hey,” he interjects playfully, giving you a little more of his body weight, making your breathing a little tighter. You grip his shoulders pushing him back slightly. Rafe pulls back with a boyish smile, looking down at you. “Didn’t say the view wasn’t nice. But that’s not what it’s all about, you know that.”

“Mhmm… Wise words.”

You stretch your arms above your head, twisting slightly underneath him. His hands slide down with you, skimming your ribs, your sides, the soft dip of your waist, tongue tracing along his bottom lip as your nipples turn hard below the thin fabric.

“You wore this for me, did you?” He asks.

“I wore this for me,” you respond as his hungry eyes flick up to yours, calling you bluff instantly.

“Whatever you say, princess,” he smiles. Rafe’s rough fingers glide up your inner thigh making goosebumps rise on your soft skin. “What about you?” He asks after a pause as the tips of his fingers hook under your panties. “What’d you do?”

You hesitate for half a second. Not because you’re nervous—because you want him to react. So you say it lightly, flicking your gaze up at him too. “Went on a date.”

Rafe pauses, his hands still, just a little. “With who?” He asks, quieter now.

“Mason Williams. He played for the Lightning and now he plays for—”

“The Bruins. Yeah, I know the guy,” Rafe mumbles. The flicker. That little twist in Rafe’s face. His jaw clenches, mouth parting like he’s about to say something smart and cocky—then thinks better of it. But you see it.

You run your fingers down his strong arms as a taunting smile plays on your lips. Rafe rolls his eyes, laughing at himself, completely caught in the act. “Is someone jealous?”

He scoffs, shaking his head. “I’m not—” He cuts himself off, sucking his teeth, trying his best not to show all his cards. “Not jealous. You’ve never hooked up with another athlete before.”

“I’m on Raya now.”

His hand squeezes your thigh like he can’t help it. “No shit…”

“I didn’t know you liked hockey.” He adds, voice amused but slightly tight, thumb flexing against your thigh.

You arch your back slightly, head falling a little deeper into the pillow. “I still don’t.”

“She was trying to get me to go back with her,” he says after a moment, his voice quieter, more serious.

You nod once. “He asked me to go home with him too.”

There’s another pause, heavier this time. He doesn’t move; just watches your face.

“Why’d you say ‘no’?” He asks. You push his hair back, fingers grazing his temple.

“He was kind of an ass.”

His mouth twitches, like he already knows there’s more. “Yeah? And?”

You let out this small breath, tracing down the side of his face, thumb brushing his jaw. “And I was really hoping to cum tonight.”

His breath catches and then his smile deepens, slow and knowing. “Well, shit,” he mutters, leaning in until your noses brush. “I think I can help with that.” You can feel the air change the second he settles above you.

Rafe’s forearms bracket your head, his chest brushing yours, bare skin on cotton as he gazes down. You can feel the flex of muscle under his skin, the slow drag of his breath as he looks between your eyes and mouth like he’s choosing which part of you to taste first.

“So, I’m the lucky guy tonight?” He hums as he kisses lower, between your breasts. “Not gonna have to worry about Williams tryin’ to do what I can—”

You giggle, threading your fingers through the back of his hair. “You act like I have a roster, Cameron.”

“Please tell me you don’t,” he says dryly. “I’ll kill myself I swear.”

“You’re so dramatic,” you chuckle, still smiling when he glances back up, blue eyes sharp and warm and a little bit smug. “Just you—”

“You need to stop dating men who hate women.”

“You need to stop dating women who hate women.”

“Touché,” he mutters, against your clothed pussy, running his tongue along the wet patch that formed, moaning at the subtle taste of you on his tongue before yanking them off.

Rafe nudges your thighs further apart with his knee, dragging his palm over the inside of your leg like he’s not even thinking about it—like his body’s already memorized every inch of you as he crawls back up your body. His thumb grazes where your underwear used to be, gliding through the slick mess between your thighs.

“Not sure if you care, but I only do this with you,” he adds under his breath. You try not to show it. Not to let him see how that lands. You nod, heat pooling low in your stomach.

Your breath hitches as he grinds against you, slow and deliberate—not inside, just enough to tease, to make you squirm and ache for more.

His lips find your throat, kissing down, then back up again, and he doesn’t stop until your breath goes ragged. When he finally sinks into you, it’s slow, all the way, one fluid, deep thrust that makes you gasp and cling to his shoulders. He’s so thick it burns in the best way, and you feel your hips tilt instinctively, seeking more.

“Fuck,” he whispers against your jaw. “Always so tight. You miss me?”

You nod fast, whispering, “Yes, yes—Rafe.”

His hand clamps around the back of your thigh, hauling your leg up high around his waist. The next thrust shoves a gasp out of you. He kisses you through it—messy and hungry—his hips grinding harder, deeper, like he’s got something to prove. Like he’s trying to tell you that you made the right choice tonight.

“Say it,” he growls softly, lips brushing yours.

“I missed you.”

“Yeah?” He grunts, fucking into you just a little harder, wet skin clapping against his. “Tell me. What’d you think about when he was askin’ you to come over, pretty?”

“You,” you breathe, honest and raw.

He smirks, sweat forming at his temples. “You were wet for me, weren’t you?” You can barely manage a nod. “Thinkin’ about me at dinner? Already thinking about me fucking this perfect pussy,” he whispers, brushing his lips against yours with every word. “Should’ve worn this set to dinner,” he says, fingers tugging gently at the band of your bralette. “Show him what he couldn’t touch.”

You grab your bra, lifting it to your collarbone, boobs bouncing with each thrust; Rafe’s eyes rolling back in his head. “Think anyone’s gonna fuck you like me?”

“Don’t be a dick,” you laugh breathily.

He bites down a groan, snapping his hips, making you cry out his name. “You fucking love it—” He kisses the words off your lips, deeper now, hands bracketing your jaw as he grinds into you just right—over and over. “You wanna know what I was thinkin’ about during dinner?” He murmurs, voice dark and thick with want.

You gasp, fingers tugging in his hair. “What?”

“You. Ridin’ me. Couldn’t get it outta my fuckin’ head.”

You bite your lip, heart racing, thighs clenching around his waist. “Let me,” you whisper, eyes sparking. With a rough groan, he grabs your hips and flips the two of you—flat on his back now, hands pulling you up to straddle him.

“C’mon, pretty girl,” he rasps, eyes dark as sin. You sink down on him slow—one teasing grind, then taking him deep as a moan spills from your lips. “Fuck,” he breathes out, head falling back for a second, his grip bruising on your hips.

His gaze doesn’t move, locked on you—his touch is everywhere—grabbing, too hard, not careful at all. Like he can’t stand the space between you.

But he doesn’t guide you. Not once. Just watches—lets you fuck him exactly how you want, the man losing more control with every roll of your hips.

“Look at you,” he pants, voice rough. “A fuckin’ dream. That’s it, baby.”

You ride him harder now, bracing your hands on his chest, moving faster, chasing your climax.

“Rafe—”

“I got you,” he growls, one hand sliding between your thighs, fingers finding your clit. “Cum for me,” he pants. “Fuck—Wanna feel it.” And you do—shaking, gasping, crying out his name as your body locks down on him, vision hazy. “So fuckin’ perfect,” he grits out.

With a wicked grin, he reaches up, hand wrapping his hand around your throat, sending your pulse racing all over again. “My turn,” he rasps, flipping you to your back in one breathless move.

Rafe drives into you hard and deep; hips cracking against you, dragging desperate sounds from your throat as the room starts to spin.

“You feel that?” He murmurs into your skin, voice gritty and low. “How fuckin’ wet you are for me?” You nod, breathing too labored to answer. Rafe groans, smirking even as his hips jolt. “Mmm, greedy little thing. Squeezin’ me so fuckin’ tight. You gonna cum?”

He slows down, grinds instead, dragging the thick length of him against that spot inside you that makes you shiver. His thumb slips between you, brushing over your clit in tight, practiced circles as your mouth falls open with a helpless sound.

“Cum for me,” he whispers, forehead resting against yours. “Right now—” It crashes over you so hard you sob his name. He groans when you squeeze around him, thrusting a few more times before he follows. His whole body shudders against yours, muscles trembling with the force of it, the sound he makes so raw it leaves your heart stuttering in your chest as he spills inside you.

And then the room stills.

Only your breathing, tangled and soft, fills the space between your bodies. Rafe doesn’t pull away. Doesn’t roll off. He just stays there, forehead pressed to yours, fingers stroking your jaw.

“You ruin me,” he says.

You smile, eyes fluttering open to find him already looking at you. “I could say the same,” you whisper, and brush your lips against his, sweet and slow.

And even though no one’s said the words, even though this is still nothing on paper, you both know better.

He pulls out, slow enough to make you gasp, and spreads you wide beneath him again. You’re still pulsing around nothing, body buzzing and undone, your thighs sticky and spread, the sheets bunched beneath your hips. And then he touches you again; fingers slow, spreading you open just to look. One palm cupping your thigh, the other thumb grazing over your slick folds like he’s deciding what to do next.

“Wanna take a video so fuckin’ bad,” he mutters under his breath, still completely out of breath. “Couldn’t tell you how many times I’d watch this shit, sweetheart. It’s probably for the best,” the warmth of his words hits hot against your skin. You smile, lip caught between your teeth.

Rafe drags two fingers through the mix of you and him, pushing his release back inside you, rubbing it in slow, ghosting lazy circles over your clit.

Rafe dips down and presses his mouth against your center, licking soft and slow—torturous tongue flicks, the kind that make you squirm but he grabs for you, curling his biceps around your thighs to hold you in place.

His nose brushes your skin, stubble scraping gently along the inside of your legs as he moans into you. He hums low against your clit, the vibration making you grip the sheets—Ding.

Your phone lights up beside the bed. The air still thick with sex, heat clinging to your body like a second skin, and you almost don’t hear it over the sound of your own breathing but Rafe does.

He reaches for it without asking, still between your thighs, and lifts it toward him.

“New message on Raya,” he says, snorting under his breath. “Damn, baby. You think I should tell him how good this pussy feels? Bet he’d love to know what he missed tonight.”

You laugh, but the sound catches when you see his face shift. The amusement drains slowly. His mouth tightens; brows twitch just slightly—not enough for most people to notice, but you’re not most people.

He hands you the phone without another word and moves off the bed like the sex just cracked something open in him and now he’s trying to patch it up.

“Thank you, sweetheart.”

You glance toward his phone as he picks it up, already tapping on the screen, swiping like he needs to be doing something—anything. Like looking busy might keep you from noticing the ache behind his silence but it’s too late for that.

You look down at the message… A teammate of Rafe’s. Someone you’ve met before. Someone who’s looked at you too long when Rafe wasn’t paying attention.

You try to play it off, you both do. This was never supposed to be more than a warm body. A reliable rhythm. Mutual trust. Late nights and early mornings with no promises in between.

“Rafe…”

He doesn’t look up right away. When he finally does, his eyes are unreadable.

“I know we’re nothing serious,” you say carefully. “But I wouldn’t do that to you. Okay?” His eyes fall to your screen as you delete the message.

His gaze flickers over your face, so many unsaid words locked behind his lips. Instead, he dips closer, skimming a knuckle beneath your chin before pulling you in, mouth finding yours with a quiet sigh and a tender kiss.

You watch from the bed, sheet barely covering your hips, heart still hammering too loud for no reason. He throws his hoodie over his head, jeans riding low on his hips, the muscles in his back shifting with every movement.

He flashes you a crooked little smile as he walks to the door. The same one he always gives you when he’s pretending to be fine.

And then he’s gone.

You sit up slowly, sheet pooling at your waist; bed still smelling like him.

Stepping off the bed you pad over to the window, drawing back the blinds, watching from behind the curtain as Rafe steps out into the street, phone glowing in his hand, thumb swiping.

Tinder.

Your lashes flutter, stomach sinking in an instant, and it stings. More than it should. More than you’ll ever let him know because there’s a chance he doesn’t feel the same, and then what? You’re done? That can’t happen.

You slip back into your sheets, body still tingling from everything he gave you. But something feels hollow now—Ding.

Sarahhhh: Tell my brother I said hi 🖕

Your Name: Haha he just left babe. You’re ridiculous.

Sarahhhh: So what’s with you two?

Your Name: Just casual. You know us.

Sarahhhh: Do us all a favor and find someone worth your time already.

Your Name: Bold of you to assume I’m not perfectly happy with my bad decisions rn Sarah 😛

Sarahhhh: STOPPPP 😂

Sarahhhh: Ok but seriously. Just look at this for me? [link attached: Paradise Palms - Casting Now 🌅 🌴]

Your Name: Lmao Sarah no. There is NO way I am going on some reality show

Sarahhhh: First of all it’s not like that. Second of all it’s fun. Third of all just fucking do it. You might be surprised.

Your Name: I’ll think about it

Sarahhhh: Do it or else

Your Name: Why so ominous 😂😂😂😂

Sarahhhh: Scaring you was the next tactic ☺️ Love you bye

You stare at it.

Then you click.

One tap, one breath held too long.

CASTING NOW: Netflix’s newest unscripted romance series—Paradise Palms is looking for singles ready to take a chance on love. Apply now.

𝓑𝓪𝓬𝓴 𝓪𝓽 𝓡𝓪𝓯𝓮’𝓼…

“The fuck is this, Wheezie?” Rafe mumbles as he pulls the door shut behind him and breathes out hard through his nose as his sister sends him some spam about a new Netflix reality show.

He rolls his eyes and kicks off his shoes, feeling the weight of the silence in his house, wishing desperately that he didn’t ruin it by looking at your phone and he would have gotten to stay longer but he knows better. Knows the rules. You’ve never been anything but clear—no promises, no labels, no strings. So why the fuck does his chest feel tight?

Ding.

Zander Jones: You done with her yet? Tryin to shoot my shot.

The blood drains from Rafe’s face before he can stop it. For a second, he just stares at the screen, frozen even though he knew this was coming.

He taps out of the message and sinks down on his leather couch, kicking back his feet as he swipes open a dating app for the nth time. Like muscle memory at this point. Like a balm that will ease the ache in his heart.

And across town, in your bed that’s still warm with his heat and rich with his smell you feel your frustrations swell. If he can swipe, you can click.

You draw a deep breath as your stomach twists in knots because deep down, you already know you’d never go to paradise for love. You’d go because you couldn’t stay away from him.

You’re never going to get over this. You’re just trying to forget.

But you know damn well—you won’t.

No one forgets about Rafe Cameron and he feels the exact same way about you.

New tag list 🏷️

@rafesthroatbaby | @ietss | @lilithblackkk | @rafecameronsfavourite | @my-name-is-baby | @urmotherlvr | @forgiveliv | @barnesboo1967 | @wtfisastiles | @k4yr14 | @taliescapes | @rafesbuzzcutseason | @sky-44 | @biascriptum | @vanessa-rafesgirl | @lolasangelz | @st8rkey | @lhhlver | @slut-4-rafey | @gri959 | @prettybabyyyy | @sabrina-carpenter-stan-account | @maybankslover | @littlelamy | @buckybarnessweetheart | @angelicameron | @lover-girlyy | @rcameronlova1 | @rafesbabygirlx | @mayanqueenxx | @bimbob1tch | @dylsdaily | @blair-bears-blog | @akobx | @countryclubwhore | @esmerai-artemis | @jkmylove97 | @wtfdudesblog | @livie4lifestarkeyblyth | @yasmin-oviedo | @queen-cs | @floredaqueen | @alexxavicry | @aerie717 | @cokewithcameron | @premiumshitt | @rcameronlova1

[urfavnewgirl]

12:22 AM. gotham city.

you. the red hood.

despite your mutual disdain, the two of you function like a well-oiled machine. its a fact your shared friend, roy, loves to remind you of, and it is also the reason why he managed to convince you to once more patrol with him, of all people.

he's brash, he's reckless, he's everything your vigilante persona doesn't represent. that was not your main issue with him, though, no. he was simply annoying. and impossible to read.

"do you always toss bad guys into dumpsters? or did this one just remind you of gregor samsa?"

"no."

you merely sigh at his response, or lack thereof, shaking your head in disbelief. this was going to be a long night.

you both turn a corner, walk past a secluded alleyway, dimly lit street lamps flickering weakly. clear. the next one is clear, too. you continue this routine, until he breaks the strangely calm silence more than ten minutes in.

"didn't take you for a reader, though." he's not looking at you when he speaks, tone dry, eyes instead fixed on the path ahead.

your eyebrows furrow, and you reach up to adjust your mask. "you barely know me."

he dismisses your remark, insistent on his earlier statement. "you do read, then?"

the pace of your walking increases, and you shrug. "i dabble, sometimes."

that almost gets a chuckle out of him. uncharacteristically, he catches up to you, matches your step. "sure, yeah. you dabble in kafka."

01:38 AM.

"so, you're goth? under," he waves a brief hand in the direction of your disguise, "all that?"

you scoff in disbelief. it seemed the subject of literature transformed your usually grumpy, taciturn partner into a downright chatterbox. an hour or more had gone by, and he had yet to halt his questioning.

“what makes you say that?”

“you said you liked carmilla.”

you have to physically hold back from laughing at his response, biting your lip until the moment passes. "i like... a gothic novel, ergo you think i have an affinity for fishnets?"

“your costume's black.”

this time, you give in to your limbic system's first instinct, and really do laugh. it's weird, not pretty, but he's lucky his mask covers the flush of his cheeks once he registers it.

he can't help but want to hear it again.

02:26 AM.

you wipe the speck of blood off your bare cheek, pray the guy you just manhandled doesn't have a contagious disease, and turn to face him. hes already looking at you, eyes flickering from your head all the way down to your feet. his shoulders relax. huh.

“what? don't have a tv at home, red?”

his face is hidden, but his voice carries enough annoyance for all of gotham to feel. "are you six years old?"

you flash him a grin. “no, but judging by your costume design, you might be.”

“you’re annoying.”

“maybe. but my face isn’t.”

"i can’t even see half of it."

"you wish you could, though."

merely shaking his head, he walks over to you and drags the unconscious man at your feet further into the dark alley with minimal effort. you follow him, quietly, the scent of gunpowder lingering in the air.

“so, what will his punishment be this time? you gonna tie him to a lamp post?”

he groans.

04:00 AM.

one hour left. one hour until the sun breaks through the darkness of the night sky. one hour until you part ways with him.

you pull your jacket on more tightly, and the leather clings to you like a second epidermal layer. your fingers prod the bare stretch of skin between your brows in exhaustion. the two of you have gone quiet now, your contrasting voices slowly transforming into the sound of waking birds.

crime alley has long been left behind, replaced by two pairs of feet walking through little italy. you liked this part of town. it had its ups (pasta) and many downs (falcone’s leftovers), but you could appreciate it for what it was. you seem to be more comfortable around each other, now.

walking past a tiny restaurant, you almost grin when you notice the red and white-striped paravans, chained to each other and nearly cemented into the ground, because in gotham, too safe does simply not exist.

you’re about to point them out to him, make one of your little remarks you, for some reason, like to make around him, when his arm shoots out, seizing your wrist. he pulls you into a secluded corner, one hand clasps over your mouth, the other rests on your upper arm.

your first instinct is to protest. to shove him off, furrow your eyebrows like you always do.

but you don’t. not when he’s standing closer than he ever has before, and his presence engulfs you like a weighted blanket on a cold day. comfortably.

he’s tall. really tall. and he smells like wood. iron. a little sweaty, too, but that’s to be expected after five hours of-

"are you listening to me?"

you blink, force the odd images that were suddenly flooding your head away, and find his eyes. nod. the touch of his glove leaves your face, and it feels like a horribly tragic loss.

"good. that smile was weird as hell. thought you got hit by joker venom, or some shit. we have one more job to do. to your left."

again, your combined actions run like clockwork.

10.00 AM. roy harper’s apartment.

roy opens his apartment door, leans against the frame, a shit-eating grin marking his face.

"you’re totally into her, aren’t you?"

jason flips him off.

he did place an order for both carmilla and the metamorphosis about an hour ago, though, and a certain someone, on the other side of town, is currently reading jane austen’s emma.

little... extracts from patrolling w him.... mayb too fast paced idk

[mym1na]

𝐋 🎱 𝓡 — HESITATING .ᐟ PT2! ⋆˚࿔

— “𝑾ait, now do I want you more?.”

synopsis; Yn was Lara's entire opposite—her counterpoint, if you will. She was awkward and slightly odd, while Lara was confident and outgoing, but hey, opposites attract, right?

Lara Raj x fem!r ღ [ 𝙮𝙩 𝙫𝙞𝙙𝙚𝙤.] | fluff + loser yn.

katseye 7th 𝙢𝙚𝙢𝙗𝙚𝙧 au. | pt1! ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

— 𝙘𝙡𝙞𝙥 𝙛𝙤𝙪𝙧𝙖𝙣𝙙𝙖𝙝𝙖𝙡𝙛 ღ [WEVERSE DMS] OnlyFans.

230K Likes | 838K Views

yn: sometimes I forget I’m lowk tatted up until I see an edit whenever I wear short sleeve shirts

yn: u whores

yn: I mean, young, taleented ppl

yn: *talented

yn: Now, whoever asked me to do a naked tattoo tour? insane work.

yn: lowk, if y'all paid for it, will do it

yn: pls don't take that seriously.

yn: ok, that was a joke. I'm not going to make an OnlyFans

yn: but I am currently on my way to get a new tat. hahaha. lol. Bye.

— 𝙘𝙡𝙞𝙥 𝙛𝙤𝙪𝙧 ღ [WEVERSE LIVE] tatted + surprised, lara!

230K Likes | 838K Views

Yn settled in at her desk, waiting for the live stream to begin. She fiddled with the ends of the Saniderm that now covered her neck. Was she told not to get a tattoo on the side of her neck? Yes. Did she listen? Nope.

This was her first solo livestream since the Ynara live she bombed. It was different; she wasn't as nervous as she had been when she went live with Lara; instead, she leaned back into her chair, sighing comfortably.

"This is tattoo number ten?” She says as she watches the live comments pass by quickly.

C͟H͟A͟T͟

nahhhh… yn is rlly fine shyt when she’s by herself… OnlyFans?

LARA. I'M STANDING UP AND APPLAUDING FOR YOU IF YN BAGS YOU

The tattoo, bro. busted.

Yn let out a small laugh as she read the comments. “Guys—please, I’m not starting an OnlyFans,” she says as she shakes her head and awkwardly stares at the cameras as she gets way too many ‘*OnlyFans when?*’ questions.

C͟H͟A͟T͟

Lara: ONLYFANS????? HELLO???

Lara: It should be onlyFORlara.

LMFAOO LARA????

Yn coughed nervously as she caught Lara's comment, along with thousands of other people in her life. “Lara…” Yn clicked on her phone screen, making sure it didn't turn off while she struggled to find her words. God, Lara never makes things easy for her.

While sitting in silence for a full minute, Yn heard soft footsteps approaching her room, followed by a small knock at her door as Lara opened it and peeked through. “Only for Lara. Remember that.” Lara laughed softly, keeping her head peeking through the door as she watched Yn turn in her chair and stare at her, lost for words.

Yn furrowed her brow, looking at the girl as if she had just stolen something from her. "You're odd," she says softly, beginning to rub the side of her cheek, embarrassed by the girl's words. If she had her normal lights on, you could definitely see how red she turned in response to Lara's words.

Lara playfully rolled her eyes as she pushed through Yn’s door, closing it behind her as she walked up to where the girl sat, waving at the live. “Hey, guys…” Lara slouched down so she could be in frame.

Yn watched as the girl interacted with her live, Lara's words fading as she continued to stare—she was at it again. She was enchanted by the girl and couldn't stop staring, no matter how hard she tried.

It was so bad that Lara turned to check on Yn, who had become quiet. "You keep doing that," Lara said, breaking Yn's stare.

“Huh…?”

"You stare a lot—mouth open and all," Lara explains, nudging Yn, who shrugs awkwardly.

"I don't stare—”

“Liar.’ Lara interrupts the girl before she can continue.

“Whatever…”

C͟H͟A͟T͟

yn…bb…you're fumbling my queen

Guys, yn is trying her best…!

Ynara this, Ynara that, but guys, what about the neck tat????????

— 𝙘𝙡𝙞𝙥 𝙛𝙞𝙫𝙚 ღ [FAN CLIP] you & lara?

76K Likes | 520K Views

While the rest of her members fought to get into the crowd to meet their fans, Yn quietly stood back, leaving a small gap between herself and the people around her. While she was the complete opposite of her members, she attempted to keep conversations going despite the fact that she was out of her element.

“Yn!” A fan's voice cut through the crowd of people, causing Yn to turn to the voice, “Hm?”

"What's up with you and Lara?” The person's voice asked as she leaned against the barrier.

Yn tilted her head, unsure what the person meant by the question. “What? We’re good.” She responded, assuming it was one of those questions where people assumed they didn't get along with each other.

“No! Like— come on… be honest, you two are a thing, *right?*” A simple question that Yn quickly denied as she turned a slight red.

”No!” She let out a breathy, awkward laugh. "Lara and I—well, We're just Lara and me.” She cleared her throat, aware that the answer sounded stupid. It wasn't a lie, though—She and Lara were simply Lara and Yn, nothing more or less. Yn's crush isn't 'nothing less,' but she digresses.

It was a short interaction, but it was one that Yn would have deep in her mind forever at this point, she should make a scoreboard of how many times she made things weird or just plain awkward.

And she already knew that Lara would eventually see that clip and start to haunt her with it. Lara always made a point of doing things like this; it was almost second nature to her. When Yn says something strange, Lara finds a clip and uses it to tease her.

— 𝙘𝙡𝙞𝙥 𝙨𝙞𝙭 ღ [ALLURE] So good.

180K Likes | 623K Views

As all the Katseye girls sat around the round table, blue drinks in front of each of them, they all read off their cards. Yn remained silent as she listened to her members yap away, smiling whenever they said something stupid.

"Yn," Lara's voice caught Yn off guard as she sat up in her chair alongside Daniela and Megan. “What was the last Message you sent to someone?” Lara asked as she read the question from the card.

The other members responded with small 'ooo’s' to the question.

Yn blinked before she reached into her hoodie pocket, pulling out her phone as she unlocked it to check what her message was.

“Wait—Are you going to actually answer this?” Sophia’s voice rang through the room as she stared over at Yn.

Yn shrugged. “Well, I don’t remember what it was, so—” Yn said, clicking on the message app to open her most recent message.

"Oh," Yn said to herself, shaking her head as she read the messages.“Uh—You know, I think I should keep this to myself.” Her face scrunched up, evidently embarrassed by the message.

“What is it?” Megan inquired, trying to sneak a peek at Yn's phone. Yn only turned her phone to show Megan what it was, which made the girl laugh, and she looked at Lara before turning away.

Megan giggles, "I think that's fine.”

“What is it?” Lara inquired, noting Megan's glance at her, leaving her to wonder what the message was about.

“Um-hm.” Yn debated internally, trying to decide what she should do. Woman up and do it, or don't.

Yn let out a sharp sigh as she looked around the table, meeting curious eyes and Lara, the girl she could never get away from. She didn’t know if it was the fact that this was a truth game or whatever, but she spoke her truth.

“Okay…um—How do I say this without it being weird…” Yn, she muttered as Megan looked at her, surprised. “Oh my— Are you gonna do it?”

Yn softly nodded her head as she tried to find the right words. “Okay... The last message I texted was to one of my best friends, and I said, ‘IMA THROW UP. LARA LOOKS SO GOOD.” Yn quickly read out her messages, her voice trailing off as she threw her phone on the table and covered her face in embarrassment.

Lara sat in her seat for the first time and was surprised by Yn's comments because she was used to Yn keeping them private. She cleared her throat as she nodded slowly, trying to hold back her grin that threatened to show. “You know, Yn, you could've just texted me that.”

"Bro, shut up," Yn says, her words stifled behind her hands—her ears turned red with embarrassment as she began to reconsider the entire 'woman up' thing.

"Guys, can we just move on—I'm embarrassed," Yn says, removing her hands from her face, only to look over to Lara and become flustered again. She stared for a mere second before she looked away again, clearing her throat, hoping everyone would just move on.

Thankfully, they did, but Yn couldn’t help but notice the glances and smirks Lara was sending her way.

note: it’s okay guys, I think i will cook a pt3 regardless…I think, don't hold it against me. Anyways, the writing might be a little flip floppy but idk i tried ! 😖

— 𝙢𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩 | 𝙥𝙩1 | pt3(?)

taglist: @frenchyypoo @liancacoltrane1

[heavyhitterheaux]

Wifey reacts when Joe accepted to participate at Netflix Quarterback serie

(This takes place in summer of 2024)

It was around ten at night and you were in your bathroom doing your skin care routine when Joe peeked his head in to see what you were doing. You saw him out of the corner of your eye before he said anything to you and demanded that he joined you.

You had noticed a blackhead at the top of his back this morning and was determined to get it off one way or another. If he wanted to be a baby about it and scream then so be it.

“Baby! Come here and do this face mask with me.”

“But…” Joe started to protest and you glared at him making him slowly walk in and stand next to you.

“Good. Now sit.”

After he sat down, you ran a warm wash cloth over his face and stole a kiss before putting on the face mask and setting another timer for when he should wash it off. Yours would probably be going off in six minutes and you started to place your face products that you wouldn't need anymore back in the cabinet when you heard his voice.

“Babe..”

“Yes, my love?” You replied as you put the last product away and turned to him.

Joe patted his leg telling you to come over to him and sit. Once you made yourself comfortable, he opened his mouth to speak again, but hesitated making you furrow your eyebrows.

“Everything okay?” You asked as you wrapped an arm around him.

“I just want to get your opinion on something.”

“Of course. What is it?”

“I'm only asking because you're included in this and if you aren't comfortable you don't really have to do it, but…”

“Pookie, you're rambling. Out with it.”

“I said yes to being on the second season of The Quarterback. So it will cover the upcoming season.”

It was quiet for a minute and you looked at him confused.

“But, why now? What changed?”

“I mean if you tell me no, I won't do it.”

“I didn't say that. I just want to understand why you changed your mind. I mean ever since you came into the NFL, it has been all business with you. You keep things completely professional and don't really let people in about your personal life. There is absolutely nothing wrong with that, but baby, you hate cameras and you are only in front of them if you absolutely have to be. That show is pretty invasive privacy wise to your standards.”

“I know, but I had a talk with Peyton and it kind of opened my eyes more. This could end up being a good thing and I don't have to show anything that I don't want to. It can focus on me coming back from my wrist injury and how I'm starting to open up more and try new things.” He told you as you started to pick at the blackhead since you were at the perfect angle.

“As long as you are okay with it. You know I'm supporting you until the wheels fall off. I just want you to be completely sure about this.”

“I asked because you are obviously going to be in it when we start filming. You are one of the main reasons why I stay sane during the season. OW!”

“Got it! That blackhead had been bothering me all day. I just unclogged one of your pores. Can I at least get a thank you?”

“No.”

“But I can get a kiss right!?”

“You can have as many as you want once I wash this stuff off of my face. But on a serious note, thank you baby for always supporting me. I mean…. I honestly don't know where I would be without you.” He told you as he squeezed your hip.

“Aww, Shiesty, you give me way too much credit. You would still be a bad ass quarterback with or without me.”

“But with you, I'm better. I love you and don't you ever forget that.”

“Forever and always, babe. I love you more than anything. Now let's wash these off so I can get those kisses that you owe me.”

[tortillamastersblog]

Where Light Bends Wrong - Part 12 | Wednesday Addams

Pairing: Wednesday Addams x reader

Warnings: violence, injuries, and blood

Summary: You’ve kept your secret buried and your power quiet, until Wednesday Addams came to Nevermore and turned your whole world upside down.

Previous Part | Next Part | Masterlist

‧˚⋆⋅‧˚⋆⋅‧˚⋆⋅‧˚⋆⋅‧˚⋆⋅‧˚⋆⋅‧˚⋆⋅‧˚⋆⋅‧˚⋆⋅‧˚⋆⋅‧˚⋆⋅‧˚⋆⋅‧˚⋆ ⋅‧˚⋆⋅‧˚⋆⋅‧˚⋆⋅‧

“Here you go.”

I look up and smile when Iris sets the coffee I ordered down in front of me. “Thanks.”

“Anything else?” she asks.

I shake my head and offer another smile before going back to my book. It’s Friday afternoon and since the Rave’N’s tonight, classes have ended earlier to allow for some time to get everything set up. 

I’m not going to the Rave’N, and I’m not on the student planning committee, so I took the extra free time to walk to Jericho.

I thought the walk through the woods would give me a chance to think about everything that’s happened lately, but I was actually too preoccupied being vigilant to really think about anything.

Every rustle or branch snapping nearby made me falter in my step, but nothing actually happened. 

I know I’m technically invulnerable again, but the fact that I did bleed the last time the monster was there scared me in a way I’ve never been before. Yes, I was scared of what the monster could do, and how it could hurt others, especially Wednesday, but I never had to fear for my own safety before.

The fact that I could also easily be ambushed by whoever stole the book only occurred to me when I was already in the woods, and by then it was too late to turn around.

It’s like I said though, nothing happened, and I made it to Jericho unscathed, but I’m already dreading the walk back. 

I sigh, trying not to think about it and get back to reading my book. I don’t get very far though because not even ten minutes later my ears pick up on Wednesday’s heartbeat nearby.

I look up and see her across the town square with Enid. A handful of other Nevermore students mill around as well, and I realize the school must have organized a shuttle to bring them here after I’d already left.

What they’re doing here, I have no idea, but then I pick up on Enid saying something about a dress.

Ah. The Rave’N.

Enid must have managed to convince Wednesday to go dress shopping with her. What helpful input Wednesday could possibly give Enid though eludes me, but I guess it’s nice to see that they actually get along now.

I told Enid over breakfast this morning that I wouldn't be going to the Rave’N with her, and while she was a bit bummed, she did understand. I didn’t tell her I was going on a stakeout with Wednesday and Eugene, but she also didn’t ask, so I figure no harm has been done. 

I tried to convince her to give Ajax another chance when we saw him glancing our way, but she just brushed me off and asked me not to go to talk to him when I offered. 

It’s obvious they’re still into each other, and they’re just not communicating, but who am I to go against Enid’s wishes. At the end of the day, it’s none of my business.

“I know you said you didn’t want anything else, but this is on the house.” Iris’ voice snaps me out of my thoughts and I turn my head to see her smiling sheepishly, holding a plate with a blueberry muffin on it. 

I laugh softly and take it from her. “Thanks. I appreciate it, but can I ask why you’re doing this?”

She pushes her glasses up the bridge of her nose and shrugs. “Just figured you could use a little pick-me-up. You look tired and Weems told me you left early because you weren't feeling well yesterday.”

Touched by her thoughtfulness, my laughter turns into a soft smile. Iris has always been nice to me and despite Enid teasing me about it on more than one occasion already, there is nothing romantic to it. 

She’s just like that. And anyway, she’s almost twenty while I’m barely seventeen. Yes, for some people that age gap wouldn’t be too dramatic, but I’m not comfortable with it. Not to forget, I’m not attracted to her and I’m pretty sure she has a boyfriend. 

“Thank you.” I say sincerely, letting out a hum of approval when I take a bite of the muffin.

“You’re welcome.” She squeezes my shoulder affectionately before going back to work. The cafe is pretty empty, but she’s alone, so she has to get back to the other customers.  Tyler’s shift ended right as I walked in earlier, thank God, which allowed me to lean back without feeling his judgy eyes on me.

I honestly don’t know what his problem is with me, since we never seemed to have one before…

A certain raven haired girl’s face comes to mind unbidden, and I feel my ears heat up at the image. I don’t try to push it away though because since yesterday, I’ve realized it's of no use anyway.

Ever since what happened at the old meeting house, I keep thinking about her. About how she literally seemed to absorb my power through her pinky, how she asked me if I was okay even though she’s never done that before, and how she actually seemed worried when she saw I was bleeding.

Whether it’s all that, or the way her eyes are more expressive than she lets on when you pay close attention though, I have to irrevocably admit that Wednesday Addams has somehow managed to weasel her way into my thoughts. 

She’s also objectively beautiful despite her cold exterior and strictly monochrome wardrobe, a fact I only realized last night. 

It made my heart beat faster and my stomach flutter. 

I know what it means, of course I do, but I just… I can’t have a crush on her. What am I, ten? 

I’m sure it will go away soon–it has to– because if it doesn’t I will just make everything way more complicated. The stakeout, the investigation in general? Yeah, no. I can’t let that happen.

The fact that the chances of her ever being interested in me are basically zero helps in dulling my feelings, but it doesn't change them.

I’m anxious to see how tonight goes. I’m just glad we won’t be alone since Eugene will be there too. 

God. What have I gotten myself into? 

Wednesday Addams? Really, Y/N?

It could have been literally anyone else. Mina? Noah? Anyone! But no…It had to be her. Knife-throwing, sharp-tongued, unrelenting-in-the-most-infuriating-way-possible Wednesday freaking Addams.

I keep telling myself it’s because of the soulbond the book mentioned because it’s obvious now that I, for whatever twisted reason, am bonded to her, but even if that’s the case, there’s nothing I can do about it.

I really have to talk to Thing…

“There you are!” 

Enid plopping down across from me startles me so much, I actually spill some of my coffee. 

“Shit, Enid!” I quickly grab a napkin and dab up whatever I spilled, thankful nothing got on my book.

“Sorry!” The blonde smiles sheepishly, waiting for some more scolding, but I just shake my head and sigh. 

“Whatcha doin’? Daydreaming? Overthinking your existence?” she quips with a cheeky smile now which makes me glare at her.

“I was trying to read,” I defend, trying but failing to ignore any more thoughts about Wednesday. 

Where is she anyway? Wasn’t she just with Enid?

Enid huffs in amusement and folds her arms on the table. “Didn’t look like it,” she teases. “You know, considering you’d have to actually look at your book instead of staring out of the window?”

“Yeah, I got it.” I scoff, but soften a moment later when I notice the worry underneath her smile. “You okay?”

“Been better,” she admits, “What about you? After yesterday–”

“I’m fine,” I cut her off a little too quickly, making her frown.  “Sorry, I’m just… still processing everything.”

Her eyes flash with sympathy and I have to look away in order not to get too emotional. 

“That’s okay,” she says softly. “As long as you promise to come to me if you ever need to talk.”

I want to say I will, but I know I won’t because she would just worry and fuss over me when there’s really nothing she can do about it, so I just hum in acknowledgement.

Silence settles around us and out of the corner of my eye I see Enid actually stealing a bite of my muffin before gasping.

“Oh my God, I completely forgot to tell you!”

I look at her again, folding my hands over my book on the table. “Tell me what?”

She beams almost menacingly and leans over the table to whisper dramatically. “Guess who’s going to the Rave’N?”

I shrug, having no idea, but then she says, “Wednesday! Can you believe it?” and my stomach drops.

“What?” It comes out breathier than I want, but Enid doesn’t seem to notice.

“I know, crazy right? She’s going with Xavier!” She giggles and steals another bite of my muffin. “Can you imagine the drama that’s going to cause? Wednesday and Xavier? Oh, Bianca is gonna freak!”

I don’t laugh. I can’t laugh. Not with that bitter feeling rising in my throat and threatening me to say something I’m going to regret.

Wednesday is going to the Rave’N. With Xavier. Tonight. When we were going to stake out that cave… Wasn’t it her idea? What the hell happened? What kind of game is she playing?

I suddenly feel silly for having a crush on her. Even just thinking it makes me cringe because while I’m over here thinking about her, skin glowing gold and dripping from the rain, she’s playing with me. Not only with my feelings but also with my time.

“That’s…great,” I grit it out and I know under normal circumstances Enid would have clocked my tone immediately, but she’s too busy rambling about the drama it’s going to create.

“I have to go,” I say after a few moments, standing abruptly and grabbing my book and jacket.

Enid stops mid sentence and looks at me wide-eyed. “Did I do something wrong?”

I shake my head. “No. Not at all I just… I gotta go. See you later?”

Her mouth opens and closes a couple of times with nothing actually coming out before she simply nods.

I send her a tight lipped smile and leave without another word.

I cough when I accidentally inhale a cloud of dust after slamming an old book onto one of the tables in the back of the library.

I’m alone because everyone else is either in Jericho or helping set up for the dance.

What Enid said about Xavier and Wednesday going to the dance together made my chest tighten so much with embarrassment, humiliation, and disgust, that I didn’t wait for the shuttle to take everyone back to school.

I went straight back through the woods, this time however not caring a single bit about the monster or anyone else who might be lurking in the underbrush because if anyone or anything had tried to attack me, I would not have held back.

Now, since I have nothing else to do, I try to distract myself by doing some research for a history project. Working out hasn’t exactly proven helpful in trying to keep my mind off Wednesday, especially when I remember how my stomach flipped when she kept eying me yesterday which is why this will have to do.

I take a seat, and open the book, getting started on noting down important dates and revolutions when someone behind me clears their throat. 

I roll my eyes, expecting Wednesday at first, but her heartbeat is quiet, nowhere near me, so I turn to find Thornhill watching me with a gentle smile.

“Miss Thornhill,” I acknowledge her quietly, a little surprised.

“Y/N,” she says, coming closer and looking at what I’m doing. When she sees I’m doing school work, she frowns and meets my eyes again. “You do know you have the afternoon off, right? Why don’t you do something fun?”

I sigh. I doubt she wants to hear about my pathetic little crush, and I’m not about to tell her about how my life is literally unraveling, so I just shrug and say, “I have to get this done, and the library is empty, so I figured why not do it now.”

Her face softens and she brushes a strand of red hair behind her ear. “Well…I  better let you get back to it then.”

I send her a tight-lipped smile, mildly surprised she’s not trying to convince me not to do it. “Thanks.”

She adjusts her glasses and dips her chin as if to say you’re welcome before retreating quietly.

I work quietly for the better part of the next half hour, enjoying the silence before I once again hear Thornhill coming down the stairs behind me . 

I sigh without looking up, not understanding why she’s so adamant about getting me to do something fun, but then my ears pick up on her heartbeat and I realize it’s not her after all. 

Wednesday.

I stop writing for a moment, listening to her approach, before going on, not in the mood to acknowledge her or talk to her. 

My stomach swoops however, and I hate my body for betraying me like this. 

She comes to a stop next to me, expecting me to look up, but I don't, which makes her clear her throat.

Again, I don’t look up despite the way her cedar wood and fresh linen smell makes my ears burn. It’s honestly so pathetic how I’ve seemingly cooked up this crush on her overnight…

“I talked to Eugene,” she says, sliding into the seat across mine,  seemingly unfazed by my ignoring her. “We’ll meet him in the foyer at eight. Once the dance starts, the teachers will be too busy to notice us.” 

I frown and glance up to find her looking at me with her dark, calculating eyes, waiting for a response. 

What’s she playing at? She’s going to the dance with Xavier. Why the hell is she still talking about the stake out? Unless she wants me to make a fool of myself and show up anyway just so she can turn me down… I don’t know why she’d do that, but then again, she does a lot of things I can’t explain. 

I scoff and return to writing. My hand trembles a little, so I clench my jaw and tighten the grip on my pen. 

“What?” She has the nerve to sound impatient.

I don’t answer and just turn to the next page in the book. My bitterness is slowly but surely turning into anger, and I know if she doesn’t take the hint and keeps pushing, I’ll snap.

“I might not have a good grasp on social conventions sometimes, nor do I bother to care, but I do know it’s considered rude to ignore people,” she says. 

That’s it.

I slam my pen down and glare at her. “What do you want from me, Wednesday?”

Her eyebrows fly up for a split second before she frowns and crosses her arms. “What are you–”

“-Talking about?” I cut her off bitterly. She goes to say something else, but I close the book with more force than necessary and put the lid on my pen. “You’re talking about this stupid stakeout of yours even though you’re going to the Rave’N with Xavier,” I snap. “So, I’m asking you again, what do you want from me? What are you doing? Because just yesterday you were telling me you weren’t going to the dance, and now you suddenly are? With Xavier of all people? You’re the one who thinks he could be the monster, so why the hell are you going to the Rave’N with him? And why are you still acting like the stakeout is still on?”

Wednesday stiffens, and for the first time, I feel a bunch of different emotions bubbling up inside her. Before, I could only kind of tell what she was feeling, but her emotions were always somehow muted and kept under tight wraps, but now it’s like a veil has been lifted and I can see everything clearly. 

She’s surprised, confused, and for a split second, guilty, but then it all gets muted again in an instant when her face hardens and she crosses her arms defensively. “I am not going to the Rave’N with Xavier.”

I scoff again. “Oh, please.” I get to my feet and shove  my notebook into my bag. 

“No.” She gets to her feet as well. “I’m really not going with him. I was, yes, but only because he found me snooping through his shed in search of clues.”

I pause and eye her warily. 

She sighs and uncrosses her arms. “I asked him to the Rave’N so he wouldn’t get suspicious. But then he found out when he caught me snooping again a couple of minutes ago… We’re not going to the Rave’N.”

Against my better judgement, I deflate a little. I don’t say anything though, so Wednesday goes on.

“I said I wasn’t going yesterday because I really wasn’t planning on it.” She steps around the table and looks up at me, her eyes searching mine for something. “The stakeout is still on… and Eugen and I could use your help, so if you’re still up for it I–”

“Okay,” I cut her off quietly. “I’ll be there.” 

She relaxes her shoulders and nods once. “Okay.”

I swallow thickly, struggling to break her gaze for a moment before leaving without another word. I keep clenching and unclenching my hand, not knowing what to think about what just happened.

She’s not going to the dance. She wasn’t lying yesterday. But she would have gone with Xavier had he not found out about her motive for asking him.

Would she have told me about it? Or would she have let me hang out to dry?

I don’t know, but she had the decency to be honest about what happened just now, which eases some of the sinking feeling in my gut. She’s also not going to the dance after all which makes the part of me that is still crushing on her feel a little better. 

I shake my head and tighten my grip on my bag before making my way to my room. It’s almost four now, so I have four more hours to get ready for tonight. I don’t know what we’ll be facing tonight, so it’s best if I rest a little before then. Some sleep will also hopefully help me clear my head and get rid of this heavy feeling in my chest.

The thumping of the bass in the Great Hall is audible throughout the whole school as I make my way to the foyer. It’s dark outside now, and while I got some sleep, I kept thinking about what could happen tonight.

I know that if the monster shows, it will be up to me to keep both Wednesday and Eugene safe, and the thought of it makes me a little nauseous. I can’t afford for  my invulnerability to slip again and even though it hasn’t happened since the old meeting house, it’s still a huge concern for me. 

I have to go with them though in case something happens because if I don’t and something does happen, I’ll blame myself for the rest of my life, and think about all kinds of what ifs…

I follow a bunch of students dressed in white, and chatting about the ball until we make it to the foyer. They continue toward the Great Hall while I stay back and crouch down to re-tie my shoes. It’s eight now, so Eugene and Wednesday should be here any moment now.

I dare to risk a glance in the direction of the great hall for the time being and while I’m glad I’m not going because the music is entirely too loud for my ears and everyone’s emotions are buzzing, I do wish I was normal enough to be able to go too.  

Being an Ægiryn has been nothing but a burden ever since my powers manifested, and for a moment I think if it’s going to be like this for the rest of my life.

Before I can spiral too much though I see Eugene come into the foyer, so I get back to my feet and approach him. 

“Well, you are certainly prepared,” I say with a soft smile, noting his overstuffed backpack and the flashlight in his hand.

“Y/N!” He smiles bashfully and looks down at his flashlight, turning it on and off once. “You know us Hummers. We can never not be prepared.”

I chuckle softly, fighting the urge to ruffle his curly black hair. We’re not exactly close, but I’ve helped him lug around a bunch of bee keeping stuff before. He has this childlike innocence about him that reminds me of Lara and while we don’t interact that much, it’s always nice being around him.

I pull out my phone to check the time again, frowning when I see it’s five past eight now. Wednesday is never late. 

I’m this close to calling Enid to check if Wednesday’s even coming, but then Eugene steps past me and says, “Wednesday, what’s going on?”

I turn around, my frown deepening but then my eyes land on her and my eyes widen. 

She’s standing right there, in a black dress, layers of sheer fabric shifting around her like shadows. Her hair, which is usually in it’s two signature braids has been pinned up into a braided crown, with her bangs and two strands of hair framing her face.  She looks incredible, breathtaking even, and my heart stutters for a second, but then my eyes shift and land on the person next to her. 

Tyler… wearing a white suit and a blue shirt.

“What happened to staking out the cave?” Eugene asks.

Wednesday’s eyes widen for a split second. She looks between Eugene and me, then flicks a glance at Tyler.

Tyler whom she’s here with because of the Rave’N.

My stomach clenches as bitterness rises up my throat, coiling around my neck and rendering me mute. 

I can’t believe it. 

She’s here with Tyler. She’s going to the dance and all that after reassuring me just hours earlier that she wasn’t going. First Xavier and now this…

“Sure. I get it,” Eugene says, voicing my exact thoughts even though he sounds more disappointed than bitter. “Guess Y/N will go check out the woods alone then.”

I scoff and shake my head. “Yeah, no. We’re not doing that.” 

I don’t mean to be brusque with Eugene, but there’s no way in hell I’m going out with him alone. This was supposed to be something the three of us did together. It was Wednesday’s idea for crying out loud, so there’s really no point in going if she’s not going to be there. Also, this is the second time now I’ve been completely blindsided by her and I’ve had enough.

I can’t believe I believed her in the library earlier. I can’t believe I let my stupid infatuation with her get the better of me again. 

She’s using me, just like she uses everyone else.

“Guess I’ll go alone then,” Eugen says which makes me whirl around.

“No.”

“Don’t go alone.”

My eyes meet Wednesday’s, and I can’t help but scowl at her. She swallows and holds my gaze for a moment before looking back at Eugene, adding, “It’s too dangerous. Stand down. We’ll go together tomorrow night, understood?”

Eugene sighs dejectedly but nods. 

Wednesday’s eyes flicker to mine again, waiting for me to agree too, but I don’t. Not this time.

I huff. “Yeah, no. I’m not coming tomorrow.” 

She frowns and goes to say something else, but I just shake my head and turn around without another word.

Eugene calls after me and I hear Tyler’s confused, “Staking out a cave?” but I don’t stop. 

How stupid could I have been…

Tears of frustration and embarrassment sting my eyes, but I’m quick to blink them away, clenching my jaw.

I make it to my room and slam the door shut behind me. The force of it makes the wood creak, and for a second I’m scared it will fall off its hinges, but it doesn’t.

I toe off my shoes and strip off my black sweater before slipping into bed and putting on my headphones.

Instead of playing any music though I just lay in silence, letting the headphones drown out the sounds of the dance. It doesn’t manage to drown out the sounds of a certain heartbeat though, so I squeeze my eyes shut and press the headphones against my ears with a desperate whimper.

I know I’m acting like a child, but I just can’t take it anymore. Not Wednesday, not this whole monster-in-the-woods thing, and not the fact that my entire existence is literally in the balance.

I don’t know when I fell asleep after returning to my room, but I did because one moment I’m drowning out the world and the next I’m waking up with a start, my headphones falling off my head and onto the pillow when I sit up abruptly.

The muffled music from the ball is still audible, but that’s not what woke me up. No, that’s not it. Not at all.

I pant for some reason until I hear it again. A roar. In the woods. And then, panicked breathing and someone crashing through the underbrush.

Eugene.

Shit.

He went out alone.

I told him not to go! Wednesday told him not to go!

I scramble off my bed without thinking and put on my shoes. Then I speed through the school, my chest and veins burning with heat as I tap into my powers  without caring if anyone sees me.

Eugene is in danger.

I burst out of the school and frantically run toward the forest, my legs flying over the uneven ground like never before.

The forest is dark and dense, the moonlight having no chance of illuminating the way through the thick canopy overhead, but I weave through the trees without slowing down. 

There’s another roar and a thud, and I panic, goosebumps rising along my exposed arms as branches whip against my face and neck.

“Eugene!”

There’s a cry of pain, and I push myself more, my heart pounding in my ears until I finally break through the underbrush.

Eugene.

He’s on the ground, the monster over him, swiping at him with its claws. 

The metallic smell of blood immediately hits my nose and Eugene whimpers, trying to shield himself with his arms, but it’s no use.

The monster swipes at him again and I see red, slamming into it without slowing down. 

It roars indignantly as we fly through the air until we crash into a tree. The breath gets knocked out of me, but I scramble to my feet nonetheless, my hands shaking with adrenaline as the monster howls and gets to its feet again. 

Its big googly eyes take me in with fury and within a split second it swipes at me. I duck just in time, but then Eugene lets out a rattled breath and I look over my shoulder without thinking.

That turns out to be a big mistake because a split second later I’m flung back with a force so strong it feels like my entire chest just exploded.

I fly through the air before slamming into the ground, letting out an involuntary sound that’s between a whimper and a wheeze.

Within a second the monster is above me, and even though it easily has two feet in height on me I manage to kick it in the chest before it can swipe again.

It lands with a snarl, skidding on the leaf covered ground and I jump to my feet, panting with shaking hands, ready for another attack. But it just roars again, its eyes glinting with caution, and vanishes into the darkness.

I watch after it, rooted to the spot with my knees shaking until Eugene’s ragged breathing snaps me out of my trance.

I dart over to him, and when I see the deep gashes in his stomach with a trail of blood running down his chin, I panic.

“No, no, no. Eugene!” I fall to my knees and  press my hands against his stomach. Blood seeps through my fingers immediately and I blink rapidly to get rid of the tears brimming my eyes. 

He’s unconscious and I realize his glasses are missing before focusing back on his stomach where the life is slowly but surely seeping out of him.

“No, no, no. Come on,” I plead, my voice breaking when his breathing stutters.

He’s going to die. He left without me. I let him go alone, and now he’s going to die.

I press down harder, my heart beating wildly. And then I see it more than I feel it. The veins in my fingertips light up, casting an eerie gold glow over his face and injuries. The light pulses in time with my heartbeat and travels up my hands and my forearms. 

My first instinct is to pull back, afraid to hurt him even more, but then I see his body still, almost as if it’s relaxing, so I don’t move.

He shudders and I tense when the warm sensation turns burning, but I don’t pull away because slowly but surely his blood stops gushing through the gaps in my fingers. 

He’s healing, I realize with a gasp, so I concentrate more on my powers even though I have no clue what I’m doing.

My vision blurs after a few moments, and I blink to focus again, only to realize that the light in my veins is flickering like a lamp that’s about to die.

“No, come on, come on, come on,” I flex my fingers and clench my jaw in concentration, but my powers fade, leaving us in total darkness again. “Fuck!”

I swallow the burning sensation of tears in the back of my throat and scoop Eugene into my arms without thinking. He’s still unconscious and even though it’s almost pitch black, I can tell he’s unnaturally pale, so I tighten my grip on him and start running back to school.

My hands are sticky with his blood and my lungs are burning from a sudden wave of exhaustion, but I don’t stop running.

I’m not as fast as before, but I don’t stop. I can’t stop. Not when my knees start buckling, nor when my head pounds as though someone’s repeatedly assaulting it with a sledgehammer.  

“Stay with me, Eugene,” I beg breathlessly, finally reaching the edge of the forest. He doesn’t move and his breathing has turned shallow again, so I push even more, crying out in frustration.

“Help!” I shout, running up the cobblestone street that leads to the front gates of the school. “Please, someone!”

I hear a commotion from inside the school– the music has stopped and there’s screaming–but I don’t see anyone.  

That is until I stumble through the gates and see someone emerge from the shadows, seemingly in a hurry themselves.

“Please!” I shout again. “Get help!”

“Y/N! Eugene!” 

Of course it’s Wednesday…

I fall to my knees but keep my arms under Eugene, making sure he doesn't hit the ground.

“He’s been attacked!” I sob. “The monster–It–”

“I know.” Wednesday drops to her knees in front of me, and when I look up, I’m momentarily horrified to see she’s drenched in what looks like blood. She seems unharmed though as she  frantically reaches for Eugene’s blood soaked stomach. 

I’ve never seen her this beside herself which makes me panic even more. “He needs help, he needs–”

“Oh my God. Y/N! Eugene!” My head snaps up at the sound of another voice and I feel the tiniest bit of relief when I see Thornhill running toward us. She’s drenched in the  same red liquid as Wednesday, her once white blouse stained red, but just like Wednesday, she seems unharmed.

She pulls out her phone immediately after getting down next to the raven haired girl, also pressing a hand to Eugene’s stomach while dialing 911 with her other hand. 

I continue to hold Eugene, panting and wide-eyed until flashing lights and a hand on my shoulder make me look up again.

A young paramedic is standing over me, calm but urgently saying, “You’ve got to let him go.” 

I shake my head and tighten my grip on her, not wanting to let him go even though I know I can’t do anything to save him anymore.

“I can’t.” I gasp, but then Thornhill squeezes my forearm, making me look at her.

“Y/N, let him go,” she says calmly, and something in her voice actually speaks to the rational part in me, so I do as I’m told, slowly setting Eugene down.

The paramedic and his partner who’s been standing back until now move in immediately and start cutting Eugene’s shirt off.

I get up on shaking legs, my entire body trembling as I watch them until a tug on my shirt makes me look at Wednesday who’s also moved out of the way so the paramedics can work.

“Are you hurt?” she asks, her voice tight, eyes scanning my face

“I–What?” My gaze keeps snapping to Eugene, but then Wednesday tugs on my shirt again, her fingers grazing the inside of my forearm.

“Are you injured?” she asks again, this time sounding slightly panic-y. 

I clear my head and shake my head, meeting her eyes again. “N-No.”

“Are you sure?” she asks, making me frown because why wouldn’t I be sure, but then I look down to where she’s tugging on my shirt and my heart stops when I see three clean rips  in the shape of the monster’s claws in it. The fabric is also blood stained, but even before Wednesday dares to grab the bottom of it and lift it to inspect my stomach I know that it’s Eugene’s blood and not mine.

My skin is completely unscathed. There’s not even a scratch and even though my heart is still pounding in my ears, I hear Wednesday exhale shakily. 

“I’m fine,” I whisper, a sudden wave of exhaustion washing over me, but then she actually touches my stomach, making me jump.

She pulls back like she’s been burned, eyes wide, staring at her hand like it betrayed her.

She’s still drenched in what I now realize is paint, and I’m about to ask what the hell happened, but then the paramedics load Eugene onto a stretcher and into the ambulance.

I sidestep her, forcing her to let go of my shirt, but before I get far, Thornhill is there to stop me.

“You can’t go with him,” she says, her voice shaky.

“But–”

“No buts.” She shakes her head. “I’ll go with him.”

I want to protest again, but then she’s already climbing into the back of the ambulance.

I watch, numb,  as the doors shut and the ambulance pulls away…

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Yikes.

Tag list: @sunshinez4 @protozoario @automaticpatroltragedy @mamas-evil-hag @theallseer97 @hellenheaven @iwshemj2 @jizzuo308 @trashcannotbealive @gloriousvariant @brocoliisscared @1863rdorv-reader

[godricgryffinsnore]

babes, i absolutely love your work so yk i had to request something!!!

george weasley x bsf!reader who’s forced to watch reader get asked to the yule ball by almost every guy in their year. she’s getting asked left and right by guys from all houses, and he doesn’t understand why she keeps denying them until he realizes she waiting for him to ask. (basically a little jealous george + best friends to lovers?)

Yule Be Mine ♡ : A George Weasley Fan Fiction.

pairing : George Weasley x fem!reader

summary : At the Yule Ball, two best friends discover that sometimes, all it takes is a little jealousy, a lot of dancing, and one perfect night to realize what’s been in front of them all along. 💫

warnings : Light language, excessive fluff, mutual pining, jealous behavior, one (1) extremely love-struck Weasley. Please let me know if I missed any.

author's note : English is not my first language, so please forgive me for any grammatical errors or spelling errors. Re-blogging is completely fine with me, but please don't copy my work. I love you all. Enjoy <3.

della's note : Thank you so much for requesting, anon!!! I really enjoyed writing it, love!!! Glad to have you here <333

word count : 1.9k

main master list <3

banners : @anitalenia and @cafekitsune

George Weasley was not the type to be jealous. Really, he wasn’t. Except right now, watching a seventh Hufflepuff boy trip over his robes just to ask his best friend to the Yule Ball, George was absolutely the type to be jealous.

“Another one?” he muttered under his breath, watching from across the common room as (Y/N) politely turned down a tall Ravenclaw with a blinding smile and teeth too perfect to be trusted.

Fred leaned beside him, snorting into his hand. “You know, at this point, you might want to just hang a ‘Reserved for George’ sign on her or actually do something instead of glaring at everyone like a gremlin.”

“I am not glaring,” George hissed. “I’m observing.”

Fred tilted his head. “You’re observing like you want to set his robes on fire.”

George didn’t respond. He was too busy imagining exactly how long it would take to invent a hex that turned charming Ravenclaws into goats. Maybe five minutes. Ten tops if he wanted horns.

Another one. A Slytherin this time—smirking like he thought he stood a chance. George narrowed his eyes.

(Y/N) blinked, gave a kind smile, and shook her head.

DENIED.

That was the eleventh guy in two days.

“What is going on?” George muttered, dragging a hand down his face. “She could’ve said yes to any of them. That Slytherin even offered her enchanted roses. Did you see them? They were floating.”

“She doesn’t want roses, George. She wants you,” Fred said, like it was the most obvious thing in the bloody universe.

George blinked.

“I—what? Me?”

Fred stared at him, the way one might stare at a particularly dumb Flobberworm. “Yes, you, you daft—”

“George!” (Y/N)’s voice rang out, sweet and cheerful and completely unaware of the chaos she was wreaking in his chest.

She bounced up beside him, cheeks pink from the cold, smile radiant. “You wouldn’t believe the amount of people who asked me to the ball today. I swear it’s getting a bit mad.”

“Yeah, I noticed,” George muttered, barely resisting the urge to cross himself dramatically. “Thought I was going to have to start charging admission to watch you get asked.”

She laughed—god, that laugh—and bumped her shoulder into his. “I don’t get it though. Why all of a sudden?”

George opened his mouth to say, Because you’re perfect and you smell like peppermint and you laugh at my jokes even when they’re terrible and your eyes do this crinkly thing when you smile and I can’t stop thinking about you— —but instead, he shrugged and said, “Beats me. Maybe they all drank Amortentia.”

She rolled her eyes. “Well, I’m not saying yes to any of them.”

George’s heart did a full somersault.

“Yeah?” he said, trying to sound casual. “Saving yourself for Cedric Diggory, then?”

She gave him a look. “Cedric? Please. He’s already going with Cho.”

George perked up. “So…you’re not waiting for anyone in particular?”

Something flickered in her expression. A moment. A pause.

“I might be,” she said lightly.

And then she walked off.

George stared after her, dumbfounded.

“Merlin’s saggy knickers,” he mumbled. “She’s waiting for someone.”

Fred leaned in again. “How’s that observing going for you, Sherlock?”

“Shut it.”

── .✦

Over the next three days, George kept an unofficial (and definitely obsessive) log of every guy who dared approach (Y/N).

There was Oliver Wood (too muscly), Ernie Macmillan (too earnest), and Seamus Finnigan (too…explosive). Each one got the same response: a smile, a polite “no,” and a wave.

Each one made George want to throw something into the Black Lake.

“She’s not mine,” he grumbled, “but if one more bloke tries to hold her hand I will invent a spell that turns them inside out.”

“You’re ridiculous,” Lee Jordan said, watching George brew what he claimed was a calming draught but looked suspiciously like a spite potion.

“I’m in love,” George corrected. “There’s a difference.”

Lee raised a brow. “You told her yet?”

George blinked. “...Of course not.”

Fred groaned from the next table. “You are the dumbest genius I’ve ever met.”

── .✦

The day before the ball, George was losing hope.

(Y/N) hadn’t said yes to anyone. But she hadn’t asked anyone either. Which meant she was either going alone (which made George want to riot), or—

“George,” she said, flopping onto the couch beside him.

He inhaled sharply. She smelled like parchment and chocolate frogs.

“I’m giving up,” she declared, tossing her hands up. “No one else is going to ask, and honestly, I’m just tired of pretending I’m not disappointed.”

He blinked. “Wait—disappointed?”

“Well, yeah.” She leaned her chin on her palm, looking pensive. “I mean, I was kind of hoping someone specific would ask. But at this point... maybe I just go alone.”

George’s pulse skyrocketed.

Someone specific. Someone specific. Someone with red hair and bad timing and a heart currently trying to claw its way out of his chest.

“You know,” he said, voice cracking slightly, “maybe he’s just a bit slow.”

She gave him a look.

He cleared his throat. “Not stupid slow. Just… worried he’ll ruin the best friendship he’s ever had in his life by asking the most amazing girl to a dance.”

Silence.

She blinked. “Oh.”

George inhaled. “And maybe, just maybe, he’s so completely gone for her that the idea of her saying no makes his stomach feel like Peeves set off a dungbomb inside it.”

More silence.

Then—

“Well, you absolute idiot,” she said, standing up, “you could’ve just asked.”

George stood too, flustered and flushed. “So, uh—want to go to the ball with me?”

She rolled her eyes, grinning. “Finally.”

He laughed, stepping closer, and god, it felt right. Natural. As if this was always supposed to happen, and all it took was eleven rejections, two broody nights, and one very jealous Weasley twin to get there.

“I should’ve done this ages ago,” he murmured, brushing his knuckles against hers.

“You should have,” she teased, eyes gleaming. “But I forgive you.”

He grinned. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

And then, because he couldn’t help himself, he kissed her—soft and sure and entirely theirs.

── .✦

At the Yule Ball, Fred raised his goblet dramatically and declared, “To the most oblivious couple in Hogwarts finally getting their act together!”

George threw a bread roll at his head. (Y/N) just laughed.

Jealousy had never looked so good.

── .✦

“If I faint, don’t let Fred draw on my face.” —George Weasley, 7:03 p.m., approximately two minutes after seeing you walk into the Great Hall.

── .✦

George Weasley had faced trolls. He had outrun Filch with a dungbomb in his pocket. He had once pranked Snape’s office and lived to tell the tale. But nothing—absolutely nothing—could’ve prepared him for the sight of you descending the staircase in your Yule Ball robes.

You were glowing. Not metaphorically. You literally shimmered. There was glitter. There was…sparkle. You looked like you’d been handcrafted by the gods of chaos and starlight and soft, sweet things, and George stood there like someone had punched him square in the soul.

“You’re drooling,” Fred muttered beside him.

George elbowed him without breaking eye contact.

You caught sight of him, and your face lit up—lit up, like you were relieved to see him.

George’s knees nearly gave out.

“Hi,” you said, voice softer than usual, lips glossed and curled into a shy smile. “You clean up nice.”

George stared. “You—you're—I mean, I clean up alright, but you—Merlin, you’re blinding.”

You laughed, biting your lip, and George’s brain promptly short-circuited.

── .✦

The Great Hall was unrecognizable—ceiling bewitched to resemble a starlit sky, frost-dusted trees in every corner, everything dripping in silver and enchanted snow. But to George, it all faded into the background the second your hand found his.

Your fingers curled around his like it was natural, like it was always meant to be this way, and he had the sudden, bone-deep realization that he was doomed.

He was so in love with you it wasn’t even funny anymore.

Fred gave him a look from across the dance floor. George gave him a rude gesture in return.

── .✦

“Okay,” George muttered, staring at the dance floor. “Here’s the thing. I can charm the knickers off a professor with a pun, but I cannot waltz.”

You grinned, tugging him toward the music. “That’s fine. I can, and I’ve got two feet that aren’t constantly trying to murder each other.”

“Are you saying I’m a hazard?”

“I’m saying you’re lucky you’re cute.”

George’s heart did a backflip. “You think I’m cute?”

“Shut up and follow my lead, Weasley.”

── .✦

You danced.

Well—you danced. George mostly shuffled around like an overgrown redhead who had suddenly forgotten how limbs worked, but you didn’t seem to mind.

You laughed when he spun the wrong way. You snorted when he tripped over your hem. You beamed when he finally got the steps right for half a chorus and whispered, “You’re doing it.”

George felt like someone had lit a firework in his chest.

“You know,” he said as he swayed with you, your head on his shoulder now, music slow and honey-sweet, “this might actually be the best night of my life.”

You looked up at him, eyes shining. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” He leaned closer, breath brushing your cheek. “Though I still might faint.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. You look very…faint-worthy.”

You laughed and pulled back just enough to kiss his nose.

George stopped breathing entirely.

── .✦

Fred interrupted halfway through your third dance with a dramatic bow and a: “If you don’t let me steal the lady for one spin, I’m going to explode from secondhand tension.”

You laughed and agreed, twirling off with Fred who (to no one’s surprise) was suspiciously good at dancing.

George watched, arms crossed, glowering.

“She’s not yours, mate,” Lee Jordan said beside him.

“She is tonight.”

“Getting a bit possessive, aren’t you?”

“Don’t care. She smells like vanilla and joy, and I saw Malfoy eyeing her during the last song.”

Lee laughed. “You’re gone, Weasley.”

George didn’t deny it.

── .✦

When you returned, breathless from spinning with Fred, George pulled you right back into his arms with a firm, “Mine now.”

Your eyebrows shot up. “Possessive, are we?”

“You have no idea.”

You both laughed—but neither of you let go.

── .✦

Later, after the band had packed up, after the enchanted snow had melted and the hall had emptied into whispers and giggles and clicking heels, you and George sat on the edge of the fountain in the courtyard.

You dipped your fingers into the water. George dipped his gaze to you.

The stars were reflected in your eyes. Or maybe you were just full of light like that.

“I had fun,” you said softly.

“Me too.” He hesitated. “You were waiting for me, weren’t you? When all those blokes asked.”

You smiled, eyes still on the water. “Took you long enough.”

“I didn’t think I had a shot.”

You turned to him, incredulous. “George Weasley, you’re my best friend. You’re funny and clever and good. Of course you had a shot.”

“Yeah?” he murmured.

“Yeah.”

George tilted his head. “Can I kiss you?”

You smiled. “Thought you’d never ask.”

The kiss was soft, slow, a little messy, like two people who’d been on the verge for too long finally crossing the line—and finding out the other side was better than they’d ever dreamed.

When you pulled back, George was grinning like a lunatic.

“Told you,” you teased, brushing his fringe out of his eyes. “Lucky you’re cute.”

“Lucky I’ve got the girl who turned down half the school to wait for me,” he said, voice thick with wonder.

You kissed him again.

Somewhere in the background, Fred gagged audibly from behind a statue.

[lovly-q]

FASHIONABLY FUCKED UP ; satoru gojo .

synopsis ⁀ . ❛ you’re a model, and it’s ten minutes before the runway show. most people wouldn’t think that’s enough time to fuck—satoru’s not most people ❜

content⁀ . +18. 1.4k word count. finger fucking. reader doesn’t release (i knowww). since this is a model!reader au, it also means this is in a modern!au.

authors note⁀ . thought of this while listening to that one the weekend song. god someone help me

the bass from the catwalk vibrates so hard through the walls of your dressing room, that you could practically feel in your chest. it wasn’t until the cue song—the one that plays less than 15 minutes before your entrance—that the nerves finally hit. by now, slowly but surely your assistants have slipped out, leaving you alone for these last moments. you’d spent the past hour perfecting your makeup, and now, it was flawless. your outfit hugged your body like a second skin, the fabric tracing every curve of your hips, the neckline cut down just low enough enough to tease the crowd.

ten minutes to curtain.

you take a deep breath, and study yourself in the mirror of your vanity. you turn left, then right—and only then, you notice the figure in the doorway.

startled, you swift around in your chair. “toru—?”

and there he was. leaning against the doorframe as if he owned the damn building. he had his signature sunglasses perched up top of his white hair, shirt half-unbuttoned, black slacks all sleek and ironed.

“what are you doing here?” you hiss. “you can’t be in here—”

“oh please,” he rolls his eyes. “no one saw me.” with his next words, his voice shifts into something low. “plus—who cares? i missed you.”

you stand up from your chair, and lean against the corner of your vanity. crossing your arms, you frown.

“satoru,” you warn, but it’s a useless attempt. he’s already moving across the room—unhurried, almost described as lazy. he does this as if he has all the time in the world. which he didn’t. hell, you didn’t.

“look at my sweet girl. you look gorgeous,” he murmurs, stopping in front of you. his fingers skim the curve of your waist, then they dip even lower. they trace along the plush of your thighs. “really good. y’know i can’t believe they don’t let you take these outfits home. i’d love for you to sit and give me a personal show.”

you narrow your eyes. “i have ten minutes.”

“eight, actually,” he grins, glancing at the clock on the wall above you. “but i’d say that’s plenty of time, yeah?”

“satoru—“

he’s quick to tuck his hand between your thighs. the fabric of your panties is so paper thin that he can easily feel the dampness of your heat.

“fuck,” you groan. your breath catches somewhere in your throat, every muscle tensing.

“huh, you’re already wet,” he hums, voice laced with nothing but amusement. “how rude of you to not to tell me.”

you try to step back, forgetting there was nowhere to go. your actions only make the vanity press closer against your spine. satoru presses between your legs, his free hand firm on your thigh to hold you still.

“don’t start something you can’t finish,” you warn—or atleast try to. it doesn’t help that your voice shakes.

“hm, me?” he comes close to your ear, as he whispers, “i won’t be the one begging to finish.”

abruptly, he tugs your panties aside.

you gasp. the cold air hits you first. then his fingers—warm and fucking agonizingly slow—slip through your folds. he circles your clit once, twice, and you nearly buckle.

“this is cruel,” you manage to get out, voice barely above a whisper.

he gives you a look over before leaning in once more, lips brushing against you ear. “cruel would be making you walk out there dripping and not letting you come.”

“are you not trying to do that already—” your breath hitches as he presses two fingers inside.

he moves slowly, too slowly, curling them just enough to make you whimper. your nails dig into his forearm, teeth clenched as he starts to finally get a rhythm. it’s disappointing, really. too gentle. just shy of what you really needed.

fuck, why does he have to be such a tease?

you whine, “more.”

he lets out a low laugh. “more? you sure?”

“can you just fuckin’ do it,” you groan.

despite your pleas, he doesn’t change his pace. if anything, he slows. his thumb circles your clit again while your fingers side even deeper. dragging against that sweet, aching spot that he knew made your legs tremble.

“still five minutes left,” he murmurs. “don’t act like you’re in a rush.”

“you’re so annoying. i am in a rush.”

“yeah? then say please.”

through hooded eyes, you glare at him, “you’re—”

your insult dissolves into a strangled moan as he curls his fingers more tightly—a quick, repetitive opening and closing gesture. your head falls back, and your thigh begin to shake. his open hand stays steady with its job of pinning you in place. it builds just enough pressure to make your need grow tighter, sharper—until you’re sure you’re finally about to fucking release—

and then he stops.

you voice is broken as you whine, “‘m no—toru, don’t you fuckin’ dare—”

“y’know, baby, at first you said you didn’t even want this,” he murmurs with a slow, teasing smirk. “got such an attitude about it—your mouth’s so filthy, always switchin’ between yes and no…”

his palm lands firm against your clit. it brings a heat that makes you jolt. then, as if to soothe it, his slick fingers slide back up, circling your clit in a slow, lazy swirl.

“but this,” he continues, voice low, “this says yes.”

you bite your lip, “who’s to say you always know what i want? you don’t really think you’ve got me all figured out… do you?”

his gaze darkens, “why wouldn’t i?”

he leans in, and your instantly lips move against one another. it’s slow at first, similar to the way his fingers kept working you over. but gradually the kiss gets deeper, slower.

you were soaked. writhing against his hand.

you really didn’t want to give in.

y’know what?

fuck it.

“toru, baby,” you breathe, forehead resting softly against his. “please.”

he grins so hard its sickening. “ask and you shall receive.”

his fingers speed up, just enough to make you cry out again. your nails rake down his shoulder, and your other hand tightly grips the vanity behind you.

you’re seconds away. so close.

and then—he stops. again.

“no—!” you choke. desperate, dizzy. “please, i’ll do anything—”

“you will,” he says, sucking the slick off his fingers. “but not now.”

you stare dead at him. legs shaking. panties ruined. body filled with so much frustration that it hurt.

“you’re a monster,” you whisper.

“i’m your biggest fan.” he says, and this time his voice is softer than before.

he crosses the room to grab a piece of tissue, then comes back to you with a soft smile. “you’re sweating…don’t worry, it’s jus’ a little,” he murmurs. “don’t worry, as much as i would like to, i wouldn’t let you go out there jus’ lookin’ like anything. i kept an eye on it.”

gently, he dabs the sweat from your forehead. then he leans in and presses a kiss right where he wiped.

“now,” he says, full of pride, “go show ‘em who you belong to.”

a knock came at the door.

“one minute!”

you barely manage to stand, pulling your panties back into place with trembling fingers. your legs were sore. your mind was everywhere other than where it needed to be: the runway show. even stepping toward the hallway was a hassle.

and through all of this stress he has the nerve to smack your ass on the way out.

it’s not hard for the circle of light to find you. immediately, cheers and compliments erupt around the stage.

you got this, you think to yourself.

you take one step forward.

and stumble.

not mortifyingly. not so visibly. not to the cameras or the crowd. but you could feel the imbalance in your walk. your thighs brushed together and heat began to pulse between them with every single step. you couldn’t help but be so aware of everything that was indifferent from your other runway walks. you especially couldn’t help but be aware of the slick that was still coating your folds, soaking the delicate fabric.

when you get to the tip of the runway point, you catch satoru in the front row. his shirt is buttoned now—a attempt at him trying to look less like the bad influence he is.

and…what the fuck? is he…smirking?

he folds his arms, tongue peeking out to lick his bottom lip as his eyes raked over you.

you try to clear your mind as you finalize your performance. you walk. you pose. you turn.

every flash of the camera reminded you that you were still wet, still aching, still one touch away from falling apart completely.

and satoru knew it.

[deanssluvr]

PUPPY LOVE

pairing: sabrina carpenter x fem!reader

word count: 1.2k

summary: it’s your girlfriend’s birthday and you decide to surprise her with a puppy.

content: rpf. fluff.

a/n: saw these pics of her and this fic idea immediately popped into my head. hope you guys enjoy. mwah

song inspo: must be love by laufey

Today was a very important day. It was your girlfriend’s birthday. You’d been together for about 3 years at this point, and wanted this birthday to be even more special. She was a little upset that she’d have to spend the day at rehearsals and not with you. But you reassured her that once she got home, you’d make the rest of the day feel special.

She told you she didn’t want anything big and wanted to just spend the night with you. You had something special planned for her, but first, you had to get the perfect gift. So now you’d been staring at your phone for 15 minutes at a note you labeled “gifts for her”. It’s stuff she’d look at and things she mentioned to you. You’d write it down so you’d have gift ideas, but now you have no idea which one to get her. You wanted to make sure she’d love it.

So, you closed your phone and lay back on the couch thinking. Then you remembered her mentioning a dog recently. You thought she was kidding, but she mentioned it quite a lot. 

“Hm. Why not?” you shrugged to yourself. 

You pushed yourself off the couch and freshened up a bit before going out.

The drive was rather short, which was good since you still needed time to set up before Sabrina got back home. The shelter itself was small and in a rural area. Sectioned off from other stores. As you walked in, you were greeted by the smell of dogs. It didn’t bother you since you grew up with many dogs. 

At the front desk was one woman. She was very focused on something on her computer. You had to say excuse me twice before she noticed you.

“Oh my god. Hi,” she had an apologetic smile, “I am so sorry. I was so busy I didn’t even notice you came in.”

You reassured her that it was fine.

“I was hoping to adopt today,” she smiled, seeming more excited than you were. She led you towards the back, where the dogs were being held. There were so many. All of them were so excited to see a new person. Some were jumping at the door, and others were just sitting, but most of them were barking. 

She took you further back where they keep the younger ones. Although there were so many, your eyes landed on a small golden retriever. You asked her about it. She told you that the dog was a girl and 3 months old. The dog was abandoned on some random street and was brought in a week ago. It hurt your heart that someone would do that to such an innocent and adorable puppy. 

“People can be so cruel. My god,” she nodded her head in agreement. You decided right then and there that this was the dog you were gonna take home. She smiled excitedly and left to go grab some papers. While gone, you bent down to pet him through the bars, while letting him sniff you first, of course. She licked your hand before letting you pet her. It seemed like she already trusted you.

The front desk lady came back with the papers and handed them to you. She told you to go fill them out at the front while she gets the dog ready. You filled it out and waited about ten more minutes before she came back with the dog in hand. 

“She’s all ready to go home with you.” She hands the dog to you, as well as a bag full of goodies, things you’ll need. “So, do you have a name for her?”

“No. I was gonna let my girlfriend name her since it’s her birthday gift.”

“Aw, that’s too cute.” She took the paperwork from you and looked over it. “Well, everything looks good. So you’re good to go.” 

You thanked her for her help before leaving. Once to your car, you set a potty pad on the seat and set her down. Then you went to the driver and left the parking lot. You made your way over to the nearest pet store to pick up a few things. You put her on the leash and took her into the store. You grabbed things such as a collar, dog bowls, food, and a bed. Just basic things to get you through the first couple of days. She was somewhat well-behaved in the store. She didn’t bark, but was happy to try and go up to every person (and dog) she saw. She was very friendly, to say the least.

After getting what you needed, you made your way back home. Luckily, Sabrina wasn’t back yet, so you still had time to set up. You set up her bowls with some food and water so she could eat. In the meantime, you finished icing the cake you made. It was a simple chocolate cake with chocolate icing. Her favorite. You added some chocolate-covered strawberries and two candles that said “26” on top. After you finished, you checked on the dog again and found it asleep on the bed you bought her. She looked so peaceful and so cute. You had an idea to leave her in your bedroom until it was time to surprise Sabrina. So you carefully pull the bed into your room and quietly shut the door, as you didn’t want to wake her. 

You walk back over to the kitchen and set up the cake and flowers you got her, and suddenly you hear the door open. You quickly lit the candles and grabbed the bouquet before hiding behind the counter. You can hear her walk towards the kitchen and set down her things.

“Surprise!” You sprang up from behind the counter. Her eyes lit up immediately when she saw you. “Happy birthday, my love.” 

She smiled lovingly as you handed her the bouquet. 

“You did this for me?” you nodded, “I love it.” 

“Go ahead and make a wish,” you gestured to the cake. She took your hands in hers and shook her head.

“Everything I want is right here,” she placed a sweet kiss on your lips, and then blew out the candles. 

“Oh. Time for your gift,” you walked over to the door of the bedroom and opened it. She watched you, skeptical of what was happening. But as she watched the puppy run out, she kneeled on the ground as it walked up to her. She let it sniff her before petting it.

“You got us a dog?” she looked at you in pure disbelief.

“Well, you wouldn’t stop talking about it,” you told her, a sarcastic tone lacing your voice. She rolled her eyes at you and went back to showing it love. It quickly escalated from hesitant petting to full-on belly rubs. The dog seemed to love almost as much as you did.

“I left her name up to you,” she held the puppy in her arms as she thought about it. 

“How about Lily? Like the flower,” it was her favorite flower. Beautiful and soft like her. Makes sense she’d use it as a name.

“I love it,” she was barely paying you any mind anymore, as her full attention was now on the dog. It didn’t bother you, of course. You were just happy that she was happy.

[cheesesandwichsanto]

Class Reunion

Summary: Eddie sees you ten years after graduation at class reunion

Warning: some curse words

Word Count: ~1.3k

A/N: Hope you enjoy this lil story 🖤 English is not my first language. I got inspired by this song:

If you enjoy the story; likes, reblogs and comments are really appreciated 🖤

“Welcome back, Class of 86!”

Stood on the banner above the stage in the school gym.

It was a rainy evening.

How he hated that stupid gym.

And that stupid school.

And those stupid people.

The only reason he had come here tonight was you.

He hoped you would attend.

He wanted to see you again.

He regretted not telling you how he felt ten years ago at prom.

You had been friends in high school, but after graduation, your friendship just faded away from time to time.

You were still in contact with Nancy, though. She had told him you would be back in town.

Sometimes he asked her about you.

The last thing she told him was that you had a boyfriend, James, or Josh, or something, had graduated the University of Indianapolis and currently were working in marketing in some big company in the city.

Back to 1986

There he was, standing in the hallway, just in time so see that douchebag Billy Hargrove ask you out to prom, which you accepted happily, throwing your arms around his neck and planting a peck on his cheek.

If he had been five minutes earlier that -maybe- could have been him.

He had spent hours planning how to invite you, and the only thing he could come up with was “You&Me. Prom?” written on a handmade sign. He had planned to buy a rose and hold the sign in front of you.

Eddie was disappointed, and tossed his self made invitation into the nearest trash bin.

Of course you would go to prom with Billy. Everyone wanted to go to prom with Billy.

At lunch break, he saw you sitting with Nancy and your friends, and as soon as you saw him you waved him over.

“You won’t believe who asked me to prom Ed’s…” you started babbling.

“Billy Hargrove” that douche

“how do you…” I saw it

“I … um… overheard it from Kimmy in chem class.”

“I am so excited. Nance and I are going dress shopping after school.”

“Well, have fun” he tried to force a smile on his sad face.

You were too good for Billy.

Billy, who scooped up every panty in sight.

Class Reunion 1996

He hadn’t spotted you yet, but he had spotted Billy, that prick.

He still had that same stupid grin on his face, just like he had in high school.

He even looked the same, though his hair was a little shorter now.

Eddie had changed too, his long curls long forgotten. Short brown curls were peeking from his head, and a neatly trimmed beard complemented his face.

Now he looked like the perfect son-in-law every mother dreams of.

He still remembered what Billy had done to you as if it were yesterday.

Prom Night 1986

He was wearing a suit, nothing too fancy, and went with Robin, Nancy and Jonathan.

At first, didn’t want to attend, but after Robin’s endless nagging, he finally said yes.

He saw you taking your prom picture with Billy. You looked gorgeous in your black dress and black heels.

A total dream.

Billy held you tightly against him, and you both smiled into the camera before heading into the gym after the photo was taken.

After watching you with Billy for two hours, he had had enough.

He couldn’t stand seeing you with him.

He finished his drink, said goodbye to his friends, couldn’t find you to say goodbye to you as well, so he went outside to smoke one and then to went home.

On his way out, he saw a girl sitting on the stairs, sniffling and crying.

As he walked closer, he recognized your beautiful dress and realized the girl was you. Your makeup was totally ruined.

“Hey, sweetheart, what happened? Why are you crying?” He sat down next to you and threw his arm around your shoulder, pulling you into a hug.

It broke his heart to see you like that.

“I went to the restroom and when I walked back to the gym and passed the biology classroom, I saw Billy and Tina making out. I am such an idiot for being fooled by him.”

You sobbed.

“You’re not an idiot. He’s the idiot for not being happy to take the most beautiful girl in town to prom. Who’s Tina anyway? She’s a skank”

You laughed and wiped a tear away.

“I’m just mad. He destroyed my picture of a perfect prom. You know, just like in the movies. I wanted to have that too…” the last sentence was not more than a whisper.

“I …uhm… may not have a limousine or a fancy suit” he pointed to his outfit as he stood up “but we could go and grab something to eat?”

“Ed’s, please no pity…”

“Thats not pity. Actually, I was planning on asking you to prom, but I was too late… Anyway, it would be an honor for me to buy some burgers and a milkshake for you” he said, holding up his hand for you to grab.

“Okay, let’s go.”

You both went to Benny’s and grabbed some food.

Then Eddie drove you to Lovers Lake in his van. You talked for hours about everything.

Billy long forgotten.

His van got into a hold before your house, just before curfew.

You looked at him with a happy smile on your face.

“You turned this awful evening into a night I will never forget. Thank you so much Eddie.”

“No need to thank me, sweetheart. It was an honor.” He said, followed by an awkward bow.

“Guess I see you around…” you said, still sitting in the car, waiting for something to happen, but nothing did.

“Good night” you mumbled, opened the door and got out of the car.

He wanted to kiss you.

He really did.

But he was a coward.

Class reunion 1996

He watched the entrance carefully.

And then there you were, looking around to see if you recognized any familiar faces.

Your gaze fixed on him.

Your heart started beating faster.

You walked towards him and greeted him with a hug.

“Long time no see Ed’s”

“Good to see you again, sweetheart. You are still as beautiful as I remember.”

You started blushing.

“Oh, shut up. Look at you, Mr. Handsome.”

“Mr. Handsome? Not me.” He tried to play it off with a laugh.

“You look stunning. Short hair really suits you, and that beard. Wow. You are handsome, always have been.”

Eddie was confused.

Always have been?

You thought he was good-looking back in high school?

Or did he understand something totally wrong?

“Uhm… thank you.” He mumbled shyly. “So, how have you been? Heard you moved in with your boyfriend recently.”

“No. No boyfriend. I’ve been single for almost a year now.”

Damn Nancy.

Why can’t you quote facts correctly?

But good for you Ed’s.

That’s your chance, dude.

Grow some balls, man.

“That’s sad to hear… but… okay listen, I’m just gonna say it ‘kay. In high school, I was in love with you. And over the last few years, I couldn’t stop thinking about you. I regretted not telling you earlier, and I really should have kissed you at prom, but I was a coward. But, we are both grown-ups so imma just ask you. Would you go out with me?”

He was waiting for your answer.

“Of course. You know, I was really disappointed when you didn’t made a move to kiss me, so I just assumed you weren’t into me.”

“Not into you? Impossible…”

Their eyes met, and they knew this was just the beginning of something wonderful.

The next morning you both woke up from the sound of pouring rain.

It felt like a dream came true to Eddie, but finally, you were there.

[brokenpieces-72]

Hearts

Note: So this was originally going to be the request fill from a previous part, but I decided against it. I felt it drifted to far from the request. However I put a lot of time and effort into it, so I didn't want to just give it up.

Price had asked her to join them as a field medic. Fucking hell, the offer was nice but Bailey was no soldier. Right now she was at a First Aid station, prepping the soldiers to be taken back to the unit to be treated further. Once she got the bandages on, and the worst of the shrapnel out, they were loaded into a bus or chopper and sent off. All she could do was hope Tracker was taking on the majority of the cases. Anything to keep Borne's hands off of them.

Outside was shouting, gun fire and explosives. Bailey would scream at all of them to knock it off if she thought it would actually do anything to give her an easier time. No wonder there were only two people at the aid station, any more and they would be too big of a target. She finished her another patient, ordering for him to be loaded up. At the station she could do as thorough of a job as she would like, the most she could do was extend their life long enough for them to reach the MASH unit. After that, it was up to the surgeons.

Another blast shook the station, making her flinch. She looked toward the source, but it was too far to actually see what had done it. Yet another kid was laid down on her table. The patch was familiar, and she was seeing them more and more. Fucking hell, shouldn't they have their own medics? Bailey didn't care, she wasn't about to turn the kid away. He wasn't going to make it to the MASH unit without some extra work.

"Doctor, you don't have time, patch him up and send him out." The other medic instructed.

"If I put him on that chopper half assed, there will only be shit." Bailey argued. The medic didn't try to talk back, this was the third or fourth one she insisted on working more extensively on. If they made it out alive, the medic wasn't about to argue. "Did this guy hit a mine or bellyflop on a grenade?"

God there was so much blood. At this point she couldn't smell anything else but blood and blackpowder. The guy was trying to talk, but Bird-Eye kept telling him to shut up and grit his teeth. Ten minutes. She needed ten minutes to finish this. Someone yelled that the chopper was taking off and on it's way, and the bus had to move out because of...something. Bailey couldn't make it out over an increased amount of shouting. It didn't take long for her to realize why the chopper and buss had fled. The shouting was in Arabic. Bailey paused for only a moment before her patient groaned. Focus, finish this and it won't matter who's shouting.

"Doc... just go." The patient groaned, before grunting from a piece being removed. A big piece that needed to be patched. Shit shit, something must have been knicked, there was too much blood. The door to the station was forced open, and Bailey heard guns being pointed. The medic next to her had his hands raised, thankfully no wounded on his table. They shouted at both of them to get on their knees, while Bailey ignored them. Put a gun to her head, see if she cared she would save this guy.

"Doctor on your knees." The medic told her.

"Buy me dinner first." She called back ignoring the take over. AQ had broken in, and were taking over the station. One of them went over and grabbed for her, but she shrugged him off. As soon as she did they pointed their guns at her. Thank god she got the bleeding to stop.

"Point all you want, I need to finish." Bailey told them, staying calm. The one that had tried to pull her off just stared her down before ordering something in Arabic. He gestured for her to get on her knees. "Wait your turn or give me a menu."

They didn't like that answer.

Tracker was up to elbows in human. He was relieved by some of the work being quick and easy. Everytime someone came to the table he silently thanked his fellow bunk mate. Meanwhile Borne was badgering away, commenting that whatever extra work Bird Eye had done could have waited.

“Pipe down Borne.” Tracker told him.

“You can’t talk to me like that, I’m ranking surgeon.” Borne argued.

“And your mouth is just as rank.” Tracker muttered. “Hurry on home Bird.”

“Sirs!” The corporal hurried into the room, a mask held over his face. “We have a problem.”

“Don’t tell me. The Leafs lost again?” Tracker asked, the nurse across from him smirking.

“No sirs. It’s Bird Eye.” Echo said. Tracker went silent stopping what he was doing. “They’ve captured her.”

Tracker’s face went pale. Born took advantage of the silence of everyone. “Karma catching up with her mouth.”

“Can it!” Tracker barked at him. “Echo find the Captain and tell him, I need to finish up here.”

“Which captain?” Echo asked.

“The British one, the only other captain in camp! Go!” Tracker said. Echo hurried out before hurrying back in.

“Tell him that you need to finish or tell him Bird Eye is captured?”

“About Bird Eye! Shift it!” Tracker shouted, sending the young corporal into a sprint.

Alex, Price, Soap, Gaz and Ghost were outside, playing with a couple of the kids in camp. Johnny was showing them some football tricks with Kyle and Alex making a big deal of every goal the kids scored. Price and Ghost watched them, taking advantage of the shade.

“Never hurts to see what we’re fighting for.” Price commented.

“Not at all.” Ghost agreed.

“Laswell mentioned the unit locating the families, and one of their former nurses runs a shelter for the women and children in need of help.” Price said. Farah was trying to assist with the same but she was still confined to her bed. Getting a couple of young visitors herself.

“Sirs! Sirs!” Price and Ghost turned hearing the sound of a running footsteps and the cry of a young corporal. Echo skidded to a stop, winded from his hard sprinting.

“Corporal?” Price asked. He was in a state of worry, raising the captain’s concern.

“The first…the first aid station… Bird Eye…” Echo had to brace himself, Ghost getting him to sit down. “It’s Bird Eye…she was needed at the first aid station. And the station…was taken over.”

“By who corporal?” Price demanded.

“AQ.” Echo answered. Both men tensed and shared a look.

“Bird didn’t come back on the bus? You’re sure?” Ghost asked.

“Honest sirs.” Echo said, looking like a kid who just admitted to stealing a cookie.

“Where is the first aid station, are there maps?” Price asked.

“Y-yes sirs in the office.” Echo said.

“Get them, laid out and get a jeep ready.” Price ordered. Echo was off like a shot, and Price called his men away from the game. The three apologized to the kids for leaving, assuring them they’d be back. They recognized the captain’s tone. They had work to do.

Graves had just arrived, driving with one of the buses loaded with wounded. He was unceremoniously shoved in. At least he could keep some of his boys safe. He was fortunate himself to make it out alive. Imagine his heart rate when he saw the 141. Graves had stepped into the office and saw the men looking over a map of the area he’d come from. Before they could object to his presence he spoke up.

“If you need any of my men, they’re at your disposal, but a majority of them are needed in pre-op.” He explained. The men stared a little stunned by his presence.

“You were up there?” Alex asked. Graves shrugged.

“Not long enough.” He admitted. Echo hurried to him seeing his struggle to stay standing and giving him a chair. "Whatever you need, I do what I can."

"You're saving your own skin." Soap commented.

"My boys were up there, along with good medics from this unit. I'm getting them back one way or another." Graves argued. "I'd prefer them alive."

The five men stood debating it with silent looks. Echo stood next to Graves, awkwardly. "Couldn't hurt to have extra hands sirs. B-but that's just my opinion."

"Could use an extra gun." Kyle mentioned.

"Farah is still out of commission, I hate to admit it but Graves would have knowledge of the terrain over there." Alex added. Price stared at Graves, almost glaring at him. One downside, Graves wasn't exactly untouched. He would need some recovery time, which gave them a chance to come up with something, brief him, and take him along.

"You pull anything..." Price warned.

"Only the trigger on AQ." Graves said. Before Price could officially agree, Graves added, "I didn't get a good look, before being loaded on the bus, but they came from the North."

The team was silent as Echo left the room. Echo was pretty good at ducking out to avoid trouble, and Borne was going to be pissed. Tracker might want to come along as well. Price's men looked to him for orders.

"Fine." Price said biting back some pride. "Show us."

Graves dragged himself out of the chair to look over the map. Alex looked around and found some bits and pieces to mark the aid station on the map. Graves marked where the enemy had come from, more possibilties were narrowed down. They'd have to scout the area for survivors anyways, but having an understanding of the terrain was crucial in case Al-Qatala decided to come back and finish the job.

Captain Bailey groaned, her head throbbing. Patient. Was her patient okay? Bailey forced her senses back and looked around. The room was dark but she could make out some dim light. She hissed from pain, noticing her wrists were tied with coarse rope. Fuck, she could deal with that later. Right now, she was concerned about the people laying in rows in the room. There were a couple of men with weapons by the doors, with small windows letting a bit of light in. Bailey had been tucked in the corner, sitting against the wall. Her shoulder hurt though. Her leg too. Oh that's why, they had bandages... over her clothes which still had some blood stains from wounded. If some idiotic AQ medic thought this was a good idea, she was going to give him a full lecture on blood types and transfusions.

The patient. Where was the patient? Keeping her movement careful and slow, she got to her knees to check the man closest to her position. Could she be so lucky? Well she'd gotten captured, so debatable. It was hard to make out features, but it wasn't her last patient. Bird looked up to make sure the AQ guards weren't paying attention to her. Next one down the line. Nope, not hers. Same patch though. If her ex had actually brought his forces into her shitty paradise he was going to get a much harder lecture... or a good night depending on how this went.

There he is. Just conscious enough for her to get his attention. "Hey bud. You still with us?"

"Y...ye...."

"Good. Listen the hotel doesn't have our room ready yet, once housekeeping is done we'll get you checked in yeah?" Bailey said, taking a moment to glance around the room. Her throat was dry, head still pounding. Was her vision blurring or was the room starting to spin? The Shadow gave her a nod and she gave him a nod.

Someone shouted, and Bailey looked up. A guard had spotted her. She stood up slowly following the guards angry gestures. The only thing Bailey could do was hope a few of them understood English, and thankfully one was able to translate. Bird was ordered to face the wall, hearing some guns click. Bird shut her eyes.

Then there was a loud blast. A flashbang.

The six men made it out to the aid station a few hours later. A few of the doctors and nurses came with them, tending to any wounded that hadn't been captured. Graves was focused on helping his Shadows while the 141 secured the area. Tracker had come along, running up ahead to the first aid shelter, hoping his comrade might still be there. Alex followed close behind, and Tracker stopped at the door.

The tables were covered in blood stained clothes. Pieces of shrapnel and bits of bloody cotton littered the ground. Tracker rubbed his eyes whilke Alex went past him. Wasn't the first time he'd been to a place like this, but it didn't make the second or third time easier.

Alex crouched noticing some details. Tools had been scattered on one side of the room but not the other. There were some streaks in what little dust was one the ground. Someone had been dragged. On the messier end of the room, there was a blood stain on the floor. A hand print.

"Tracker." Alex said, getting Tracker's attention. He gestured to the handprint. Tracker went pale. Tracker looked at Alex who remained expressionless. Then Tracker left the station, needing air. A wave of emotion came over the Captain as he tried to brace himself, trying to rid himself of the worst case scenario. Captured. Echo said captured. He had to remember that.

Alex came out as the 141 closed in on the shelter. Alex spoke to Price directly and quietly. "No sign of the medics, but they were here. Dragged off."

"The 627 are loading up wounded and casualties." Kyle said, coming up next to Price. Alex looked deep in thought.

"Something on your mind Alex?" Price asked.

"Why not kill them? Take out two medics, eliminate the first aid station, get more ground." Alex questioned. Price picked up on what Alex was suggesting. Just in case.

"Sergeant." Price said. Soap looked up at attention. "Check their inventory, see what supplies they might have taken. Ghost go with him."

"I'll come." Tracker spoke up, dragging himself over to the two men. "I know what they would want."

Graves came over to Alex, Kyle and Price. "There's good news and then there's well... not sure what kind."

"Good news first." Alex said.

"Anyone wounded has a fighting chance, and they're being patched and loaded up to go back to the MASH. Casualties are being taken back so their families can be informed. A low number considering how long they were out here with their injuries." Graves reported.

"The other news?" Kyle asked.

"The numbers are small. There were still wounded when I left, and not enough of them have been loaded up." Graves explained. Price didn't need clarification. AQ had taken hostages.

"What's the difference?" Alex asked. Graves shrugged.

"Estimate maybe... 10-15 shadows. Plus however many ULF." Graves said, just as Tracker, Ghost and Soap returned to the group. "The upside is they're likely still alive, but if they don't have proper doctors or supplies then it's another story."

"They have supplies, they nearly cleared everything out." Tracker said. "And they have Bird Eye, so a doctor won't be a problem."

"Bird was here?" Graves asked. That peaked some interest in all of them. Tracker nodded in confirmation. Graves shoved the notion aside, acting as if the question had never been asked. Honestly Price didn't care about his personal problems anyways.

The tracks were still visible, they had their target. They needed to move and fast. Something else was going on, but none of them wanted to think of what they might do to her.

In the jeep Graves was with Kyle, Alex and Price. Soap and Ghost were in the other vehicle, comms remaining open. Alex decided to address the elephant in the room. “You know this doctor?”

Graves honestly wanted to ignore Alex. “Had an occasion to run into her.”

“More than once?” Kyle asked from the front seat.

“…something like that.” Graves said. Neither Alex nor Kyle believed it was just that. Price turned and led the jeeps down another road, listening in. Alex looked to the commander, brow raised.

“You and Farah? Anything there?” Graves asked. Alex took that as a sign. He didn’t need to be a profiler to pick up on Graves relationship with Bird. Nor did Kyle.

Bird sat down, exhausted now. God they were giving her everything. Right now she would take anything to go back to the swamp. At least she could rest. Another of her captors came in and she requested another minute.

“You speak English?” She asked. The captor nodded. “Thank god. Could do without more shouting from your cheerleading buddies. Do me a favour, tell them to piss off.”

The man urged her to get back up and come with him. Bailey complied.

Soap exited the vehicle with Ghost. The two of them were counting ahead, while the other four stayed back.

“Keep up Soap.” Ghost told him. A small settlement was nearby, and plenty of guys with guns. Ghost set of his gun, watching them through his scope, while Soap watched with binoculars.

“See anything?” Soap asked. Not much. It could simply be an outpost, a large checkpoint, anything. They needed more signs. There were some vehicles, that looks like they’d been shot at, but still nothing definitive. If it weren’t for the weapons they would seem like regular civilians.

“Ghost, sit rep.” Price radioed.

“Estimate about 10 men, no patrol, more inside the buildings. Two battle worn vehicles, only half of them arm visibly armed.” Ghost reported.

“Any sign of the captives?” Price asked.

One of the doors opened, and another unarmed civilian stepped out. Something wasn’t right. There was more to do this. The vehicles were damaged but vehicles at the war zone were in a far worse state. “There’s two larger buildings, could be holding them there.”

“Ghost.” Soap said, getting the lieutenants attention. “South East Building.”

Ghost turned his attention to the second largest building. A woman stepped out with a man escorting her. There was a child in her arms. Couldn’t be more than a few months old. “Price we got something.”

“Send traffic.”

“Mother just existed the south east building, new born, couldn’t be more than a few months.” Ghost reported.

“Not first time kids have been dragged into conflict.” Graves radioed.

“She exited with a male, a medic likely from the aid station.” Ghost reported.

The four men shared a look from where they waited. What the fuck?

“Do you think…” Kyle started.

“They took the supplies, and two medical professionals.” Price said. Graves picked up on what was being suggested.

“So my men are hostages?” Graves questioned.

“That’s the odd part.” Alex said. “How much medical training do they have?”

“Basic first aid training, enough to recover their brothers off the field.” Graves said.

“What are your orders sir?” Soap radioed. Price looked between his men before radioing Soap and Ghost. “Sit tight, we’re on our way, weapons down, do not engage.”

“Copy.”

Price took the initiative with Alex to approach the settlement. Price raised his hands Alex, following his leads. The civilians pointed their weapons in a panic, seeing two armed men. Price explained his side of the situation, that there were four more men past the tree line, ready to fire if the men didn’t comply.

Another man came out of the building and approached Price. “We have 10 of your men, they are unharmed. They won’t be if you don’t leave us alone.”

These people weren’t AQ. They couldn’t be, AQ would have fired on them by now. “Please sirs, we need them.”

“We’re not here to do harm unless we have to. Let them go.” Alex said.

“We can’t we need them.” The man said. Then the first aider stepped out seeing Price and Alex. He went to the man and spoke to him in Arabic. Price and Alex waited, guns still trained on them.

“Captain Price?” The medic asked. Price nodded. “Captain Bird is inside, everyone is safe.”

The medic spoke to the man who ordered his men to stand down. “We could use some more hands.”

Price and Alex looked at each other. “What exactly is going on?”

The rest of the men were called over and the men were brought inside. They weren’t sure whether to be concerned or amazed. In the building was a small clinic, patients laid on the floor and a few shadows trying to help their wounds. Some Shadows were laying on the floor, their wounds too great for them to move yet.

The first aider did their best to explain but kept being called away to help with a patient. The general gist was that all of them had been taken from the first aid station to assist with patients. The medical supplies were to aid wounded and sick Urzikstan civilians. AQ had been attacking but they were eliminated. Unfortunately, the people here had some issues with outsiders, and trust was a problem.

Graves scanned the large room noticing some curtains in the back. They’d seen mothers earlier, likely where they were resting. Graves knew he was already gonna be in shit for his Shadow’s actions. Price could hear Major Borne throwing a tantrum about giving aid and with stolen supplies no less. He could also hear Laswell reminding him the risks of the situation he was seeing.

Once the medic finished with a patient, he returned to the group. “I understand the risks captain, but these people needed our help.”

“You’re right they do.” Price said before turning back to his own men. “How do we help?”

“You’ll have to ask Captain Bird she’s taken charge of the operation.” The medic explained.

“Where is she?” Graves asked.

“Other building, she’s been tending to the mothers.”

Graves wasted no more time, with Soap and Price following. Alex, Ghost and Kyle got prepped by the medic, given instructions and gloves. Soap wanted to see what Graves was so worked up about, and Price wanted to keep Graves and Soap out of trouble. And Price was concerned about Bird. The building next door was practically empty. Surgical table with creates and make shift cabinets. There was a curtain and some shuffling sounds.

“Bird?” Graves called.

“What are you so-“ Soap started before Graves pulled back the curtain to find Bird sleeping on a cot. Her green jacket was laid over her, her shoulder was visible, along with the bandage. She looked so worn out and exhausted for half a second Soap thought she was dead.

Graves checked her pulse, to be sure. “Bird? Bird wake up.”

“Mmh… was having a good dream…” Bird said slowly opening her eyes. Once she saw the man waking her she scowled. “Never mind I’ve entered a nightmare.”

“Very funny.” Graves said rolling his eyes. Bird sat up and Graves turned away immediately while Soap leaned over to see Bird’s surprisingly healthy body. Even with the bullet wounds. Bird gave Soap a friendly smile, not worrying about decency. She was a doctor, she wasn’t that bothered. Meanwhile Graves was trying to get him to look away. Now it was Bailey’s turn to roll her eyes as she stood up, pulling her shirt back on over her sport bra.

“Phil, he’s allowed to look.” She said, pulling her boots back on. “You’ve lost your table, I can give it to whatever guest I choose.”

“Bailey.” Graves said, pinching the bridge of his nose. Soap turned back around to look at Graves. What the heck did that mean?

“I mean if you want a shower, you might be able to join.” Bailey said, lacing her boots. “Sound okay with you Soap, or do you prefer the boogie man under your bunk?”

Soap went red in the face as Graves turned to give Bailey a look. Soap cleared his throat looking away and to the door. Of fucking course Price was standing in the door way, arms folded. Soap had never felt his face heat up this much. Was he having a heatstroke? Unable to meet his captain’s eyes Soap looked at the floor. As Bird got up and passed Graves and Soap she gave the Captain a charming smile and a pat on the arm. “You’re welcome to watch.”

That caught Price off guard. The three men shared a look with each other try to find out what just transpired. Okay no, focus on the Captain, or her work, helping, yep.

The men did everything they could, Bird giving them orders, Graves listening to every word. The shadows did their best. It was a lot of work, no wonder Bird had taken a nap. They were all exhausted by the end of it and Bird even had the chance to deliver a new born. Bird knew she would probably be in a lot of shit but fuck it.

Kyle came over and got her to sit down, give her some more medical treatment for her wounds. Now it was her turn for juice and cookies. Graves stayed in the room, wanting to keep an eye on Bird.

“So… what’s the story?” Kyle asked Bird, pretending Graves wasn’t in the room. Bird smiled sweetly, the way Graves used to miss. Kyle noticed her wrists were bruised. Not from hands at least.

“We were close.” Bailey said. “Careful with that stitch, the needles here are more leather than skin.”

“Why did they shoot you?” Graves asked.

“They were scared and one of them has an itchy finger. These people struggle with trust, the mothers have bastards, and some of them were forced into AQ.” Bailey explained gritting her teeth.

Kyle finished before looking up at Dr. Bailey. “You want some provacy with him or…?”

“Why you want to watch? There’s no popcorn.” Bailey said.

“Leaving.” Kyle said getting up while Graves sighed, dropping his head. Before Graves could say anything he was interrupted by Kyle remembering to close the door.

“Why are you look this?” Graves asked.

“Still haven’t found the solution?” Bailey teased. “Can’t help it, I’m part of the crazy generation, I was born a smart ass, and come from a long line of smart asses. It’s a wonder that donkeys don’t find me attractive. Then again.”

“Bird.” Graves said still leaning against the wall. “I’m serious.”

“You always are.” Bailey said. “It’s why we didn’t work.”

“That’s not the reason.”

“Then let me remind you what the reason was.” Bailey said standing up and limping over to the commander. “You wanted something, and I wanted something and we weren’t each others somethings.”

“Yet you came to Urzikstan.” Graves pointed out. As if Bird would give him the upper hand.

“I’ve been here longer than you, and working here on people. Saving lives and bringing new ones into the world all while being a pain in the ass to those who stop me.” Bailey said, lifting her nose. Graves would never understand how he could be taller than her and yet she could still stand over him. Graves stood up straight, matching her folded arms.

“Protecting people isn’t something you wanted?” Graves asked. Bailey sighed. Graves knew the reason, but it was something he believed in. Bailey held his arms. Graves remembered a pleasant night with her, when she did the same thing.

“Phil Graves… You’re a horse lover, not an ass lover.” Bailey told him. Phillip sighed laughing a little. Bailey smiled, knowing that would break his serious face. “I also don’t need you getting yourself killed by pissing off the Brit’s, one revolution is fine, we don’t need another.”

“It was work.” Phil said. “Business.”

Bailey smacked his cheek, just as Soap stepped in to check on them. Soap stopped dead in his tracks as Bailey smiled and leaned against Graves.

“Did you want to join in or spectate?” She asked. “Title fight after all.”

“The medic be needin ya Doc.” Soap said, looking at Graves who was looking the other way.

“I’ll be right there.” She told him. Soap shut the door, going straight to telling Ghost. Bailey pulled Graves face back over, to look at her. “You get your allies and enemies straight. Last thing you need is to be in the shower with your blood down the drain.”

Before Graves could argue, Bailey kissed him on the cheek and walked out. Graves watched her go, and shut the door behind her.

Taglist: @yourlovely-moon @kaoyamamegami @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @sans-chara @0wosugarmommymedic0wo @smitten-haematite-quartz @talia-the-gemini @yuki2129 @whitetiger846 @graystorm444 @chibiduck @reaperxxxxzz @danielle143 @sobbingnshtting @cringeycookies @cryingpages @dcnocap207 @reaper-chan666 @bestbookfriends @thriving-n-jiving @cutiecusp @shikigami-the-paper-spirit @lolyouranelf @theotheronedotorg

[betweenjoelandtommy]

𝐇𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥 ⛲🪞🦢💙

Summary: It's the reader's birthday, but no one remembers it except Joel, his father's friend, who was also his new neighbor.

Warnings: licking, rubbing , kissing, age gap (reader is 25 and Joel is in his 40s)

It's my first time writing something like this, hope ya'll like it♡

And English is not my first language so it's a little fucked up✨️

___________________________________

You were sitting in your room, watching some dumb show on TV. You were turning 25 this year, but no one remembered or really, no one cared. Last year, after a heated argument with your mom and your family treating you like crap, you moved out and settled in a different town. You bought yourself a small, cozy house with the money you had saved, but honestly? Nothing really made you happy. No friends, no family waiting for you, no one who’d even remember your birthday. Your family didn’t even call, even though you left without disrespecting them or causing a scene.

Today, you tried to cheer yourself up by baking a cake, but you burned it. You were wearing a short, light blue satin dress and luckily, it hadn’t gotten dirty. Overall, it was just another pointless, crappy day. Like every other day.

You felt a single tear welling up in the corner of your eye when suddenly, someone rang the doorbell. Probably the mailman. You got up and opened the door, but the person standing there caught you off guard.

Joel. One of your dad’s friends who, had recently moved in next door, he was like a friend to you and you felt safe around him.

He had a soft smile on his face and spoke in a calm tone.

"Hey, so..um..three years ago today, I saw you the first time. It was your birthday, and you were crying because your cake turned out darker than you wanted I think, I’m guessing you’re 25 now, right?"

How was this possible? Someone actually remembered you.

Joel continued, "I noticed no one showed up, so I figured I’d come by and say happy birthday myself. Wanna go out for a bit?"

You were still in shock. You had a huge crush on Joel, and this made your day at least a little better.

"I didn’t think anyone would remember. But yeah, sure, let me grab my jacket."

Excited, you grabbed your bag and dark blue jacket from your room and rushed to the door.

"Follow me," Joel said as he headed toward his garage and got into his truck.

"Jump in."

Without hesitation, you climbed into the passenger seat.

"So, so… where are you taking me?" you asked, excitement bubbling in your voice.

Joel smirked. "Are ya happy to see me?"

"Happy to see someone who actually remembers I exist? Yeah, why not?"

"Well, one of those stupid clubs just opened up, some bowling club, I think, wanna go there?" he asked, his voice calm.

"Yeah, definitely!"

The drive was only about five minutes, and neither of you spoke the whole way. When Joel finally pulled up in front of the club, you didn’t wait, you jumped out of the truck and headed straight for the entrance.

Behind you, Joel called out, "Hey, slow down! I’m fifty, kiddo!"

You shot him a grin. "Old man."

Joel followed you with a grin. "Idiot."

You stepped into the club and headed toward the main area.

The bowling alley was quiet, several polished wooden lanes stretched out, each ending with ten neatly arranged white pins. Narrow gutters ran alongside the lanes, ready to swallow any stray balls. Above each lane, triangular panels displayed the name of a brand, as if to emphasize that this was meant to be a peaceful place for bowling. The soft lighting reflected off the wooden surface, filling the space with a sense of stillness, as if it were waiting for someone to break the silence.

A few people were playing on the far side of the hall.

Joel, still speaking in his usual calm tone, said, "Which idiot thought people in this town would play bowling? People here are dumb."

"People everywhere are dumb."

You said calmly

Joel looked a little impressed by your words.

"I think you need to get those ridiculous bowling shoes. The soles are smooth, and they won’t let you play without them."

You said again

Without waiting, Joel walked over to the counter where they sold shoes and tickets. A moment later, he returned with two pairs of shoes and two tickets.

"Alright, princess, time to play."

After several failed attempts, Joel walked up to you with a grin.

"You can’t do it, kiddo."

"Then try it yourself!" you said stubbornly.

Joel picked up a ball and threw it toward the pins. Half of those stupid things toppled over.

"See? Way better than just one," he said confidently.

"Sit down!"

You turned back and kept trying, failing over and over again. Joel sat behind you, near the bowling balls, but the only thing he was really looking at was your legs, especially when you bent down and your dress lifted just enough for him to see the hem of your panties, he tried to look away but failed.

You kept at it for another half hour until Joel finally spoke up.

"You want dinner, kiddo? They’ve got a restaurant here."

"Oh? How many people have you brought here to know that?"

"Maybe I only came for you?"

"Idiot. But yeah, I’m starving."

"The cheeseburgers are good."

"See? I knew you brought someone else here before me."

"Alright, drop it. Let’s go. I hate these shoes anyway."

After that little back and forth, Joel handed the shoes back to the staff, and the two of you headed toward the small restaurant at the end of the club.

"After several failed attempts, Joel walked up to you with a grin.

"You can’t do it, kid."

"Then try it yourself!" you said stubbornly.

Joel picked up a ball and threw it toward the pins. Half of those stupid things toppled over.

"See? Way better than just one," he said confidently.

"Sit down!"

You turned back and kept trying, failing over and over again. Joel sat behind you, near the bowling balls, but the only thing he was really looking at was your legs—especially when you bent down and your dress lifted just enough for him to see exactly what he wanted.

You kept at it for another half hour until Joel finally spoke up.

"You want dinner, kid? They’ve got a restaurant here."

"Oh? How many people have you brought here to know that?"

"Maybe I only came for you?"

"Idiot. But yeah, I’m starving."

"The cheeseburgers are good."

"See? I knew you brought someone else here before me."

"Alright, drop it. Let’s go. I hate these shoes anyway."

After that little back-and-forth, Joel handed the shoes back to the staff, and the two of you headed toward the small restaurant at the end of the club

Joel ordered two cheeseburgers, and you sat down, waiting. After a while, you started talking.

"I'm glad you're my friend. Not my first, but my only friend, and that’s kinda cool. You’re cool."

"Obviously, I’m cool," Joel teased.

"I mean it. I’m happy you pay attention to me or care about me....wanna come to my place after dinner? I’ll introduce you to Mr. Bubble, he’s my cat. Maybe I’ll even give you a drink?"

"Well, I don’t have anything planned for tomorrow, so yeah, maybe I’ll come over."

"You're lonely too?" you asked.

"Yeah. My brother Tommy just got married, that idiot ran off with his wife."

You laughed. "I live alone too. Actually, I have an annoying neighbor, but whatever."

You tried to make Joel laugh more, and you succeeded.

"You like me being around"

"Yeah, well, at least I finally have someone to give cookies to."

"Oh, cookies. Love those."

You kept talking until the cheeseburgers arrived. But once the food was in front of you, you didn’t even look at Joel, food was more important.

"This shit is amazing!" you said between bites.

"I know"

He said.

After finishing the food, Joel paid the bill. You wanted to pay your share too, but he didn’t let you.

You got into the truck, and Joel stopped by a small market near the club, grabbing two bottles of alcohol before getting back in.

"There are better ones out there, but I don’t expect much from a local market. Next time, I’ll bring you the good stuff myself."

You took the bottle, popped it open, and drank a few gulps without saying a word.

Joel kept stealing glances at you while driving. "I know a good spot. Wanna go?"

"Sure, old man."

After half an hour of driving, Joel brought you near a river.

"Come on, let’s go to the back. You might wanna lie down there."

You got out of the truck and walked toward the river.

"Fuck the truck, I wanna be closer to the water."

You lay down near the river, and Joel joined you, both of you staring up at the sky.

"The stars are beautiful, huh?" you said.

"Yeah, they are. Just like you."

"I know I’m beautiful"

You looked into Joel’s eyes.

"You make life feel better" you said, your words full of emotion. You were grateful and happy that someone finally saw you.

You kept staring at him, at the scar on his nose, at how the moonlight made his eyes even more striking.

"What’s the story behind the scar?" you whispered.

"Nothing special. Maybe I’ll tell you later" he whispered back.

Joel turned to look at you, and for a moment, your heart felt like it was about to burst out of your chest. You couldn’t control yourself, you kissed him.

You expected Joel to hate you for it.

But instead, he kissed you back.

You didn't expected the kiss to be so deep but it was, it was deep and hungry, making you feel like you were going to explode.

"Why..why did you kiss me back?"

You asked.

But he shut you up with another kiss and got on top of you and started to kiss your neck, those gentle kisses made you moan and whimper like you needed more

"You want more?"

He asked

"Yeah..please I want more.."

His kisses started to go down, he cupped your breast from you dress and that made you moan again, his lips found your nipples and he pulled your dress up? taking it off

"Fuck...you look good princess"

His words made you breath hitch and you felt like you lost it after he started to kiss and bite your nipples again

"J-Joel..fuck..that's so good..it feels so good"

"I know baby girl"

You started to feel yourself getting wetter and wetter, needing more than just kisses and Joel was going to give you that

He pulled off your panties and spreaded your legs

"God"

He murmured and started to kiss your stomach and going down until he reached your thighs, he started to kiss your inner thighs and licking them, teasing you

"Joel..please"

You begged and that was enough for him, he started to kick your core but in a teasing way, making you beg for more and after hearing enough he started to eat you up, his tongue circling around your clit and making you arch your back for him

You hands found his hairs and pushed him against yourself and your thighs wrapping around his neck, giving him a little space to breath

"You taste like heaven princess"

He said and gave you a spank on you thighs and made you moan louder

"I want to..I want t-"

Before you could finish your words his tongue found you pussy again, licking like it was a goddamn candy, he started to feel your lips clenching and your body shaking so he started to rub your clit with his thumb until he felt you Cumming under him with a loud moan, your body Loosened against him and your hands fell on your sides

He pulled up to look at you but you were already asleep, and it was the best view that he had ever seen in his life.

[xxplastic-cubexx]

Understandably So no one mentions charles when talking about the Logan movie and again Understandably So This Aint Bout Him however i do confess that as someone who had never seen Logan until like. a month ago when i was binging all the movies and without knowing a single thing about it aside from laura i cant lie i was in fact jumpscared by him being there. especially for at least like 3/4s of the movie

[servuscallidus]

One thing people should point out when explaining the evils of makeup is the amount of time it takes. It takes ages! And I know people that are really proficient at it can put it all on in ten minutes, but that's still ten minutes of your morning routine. A slow breakfast takes ten minutes, ten more minutes in bed take ten minutes, all way healthier things than putting on makeup

[j-esbian]

i've had a cough for about three weeks now and i am so tired of people commenting/offering unsolicited advice every time it rears its head, either because they're actually trying to help or they think i'm not aware that i'm doing it and are passive-aggressively trying to bring my attention to it because it's annoying to listen to.

yes i have tried tea. and honey. and honey in my tea. and soup. and cough drops. yes even the medicated ones. no it's not just because it's kinda dusty in here, or because the weather is changing. there's nothing in my throat. please stop making me talk because that's what makes it worse. yes i promise i'm not just being a bitch and ignoring you

[strawbubbysugar]

That last anon is such a prick, please don't take what they said to heart. You are a wonderful author and you can take your stories in any direction you want. You're not an endless content machine, you're a wonderful person and you do what makes you feel comfortable. Please don't listen to people who don't like your writing, write for yourself and what makes you happy

<3<3<3 thank you, I think I really needed to hear this TTvTT