#like they were leaving going like aw since its rush hour i was thinking i would go to the pc lab and watch something...(wanna come with me)

[globodamorte]

why do the chatty ones always find me. why can't I say no I can't help you. holy shit.

[love-quinn]

— PARTIAL CREDIT

summary — when a new member of the waitstaff starts undermining you, you worry that your job might be in jeapordy. carmen knows you better than you think.

warnings — swearing, i think that's it

pairing — carmen berzatto x fem!waitress reader, semi (?) established relationship

pronouns — she/her

word count — 2.2k

note — i know i fully dropped off the face of the earth but unfortunately i was too busy channeling waitress reader a little too hard, i actually have to leave for work in a few hours but i really wanted to get something out. this 100% isn't inspired by true events or me projecting in any way, anyway i hope you enjoy!! <3

Being the only waitress at a successful restaurant is hard. During the dinner rush, between wiping tables, grabbing drinks and running food, you’ve slowly learned to be more adaptable to the Bear’s new clientele base. That’s not without its struggles, of course. 

Fortunately, Carmy and Natalie seem to understand that it’s a major handful to simply do your job. Which is why Richie thought it appropriate to call you in two hours early to meet the new waiter.   

Liam’s nice from what you’ve gathered. He’s been working with you at the Bear for about two months at this point, most of that has involved you and Richie training him, and he’s been very receptive to your instruction. 

Sure, sometimes he mutters under his breath when a customer asks him for something, but hey, they’re annoying sometimes. And sure, sometimes you find him in the walk-in on his phone, but you’d be lying if you said you were never on your phone at work. He’s had no complaints, and the work is always done to a standard that’s expected (he is still in training, you’re not delusional). 

You’ve worked at the Bear since they were still the Beef, right after Carmen took over. He realised Richie couldn’t keep up with the stuff at the front by himself, so he’d gone with the cheapest option available and thanked god every day that you weren’t awful at your job. You had just graduated from UofC and if you didn’t get a job when you had, you would have been pretty much out of options. You had no work experience outside of being a TA in college (which apparently didn’t have a lot of transferable skills, according to most of your potential bosses). You hadn’t been able to score an insane internship, you didn’t make super stellar grades, you’d been too busy being desperately poor and struggling to keep up.

You’d been really lucky that Carmen had taken a chance on you when he had, and you had been desperate to show him you were aware of that. Liam didn’t seem to have the same sentiment.

He was the same age as you, and he’d actually gone to UofC as well. He’d gotten a pre-med degree but wanted to take some time off before he went for his MD at Rosalind Franklin. 

He picked up on the work fairly easily, remembered when you showed him where the cleaning supplies were, showed him how to work the buttons on the till to ring in orders, and introduced him to all the staff. They were nice to him, nice enough. It took them a while to warm up to him, just like it took them a second to warm up to Carmen, to Sydney, to you. 

But now, several months in, they all got along enough that work was going well. You didn’t have to work six days a week if you didn’t want to now that Liam was there to lighten the load (you did, you made sure Natalie knew that). Now, you could actually take your lunch break without worrying they were being completely overrun. 

On the whole, things seemed to really improve. 

Until, of course, they didn’t. 

You started hearing whispers, soft remarks of “Oh, I did that for her,” to Richie about greeting table seventeen. Small “I wonder why that wasn’t done, I’ll just do it quickly.” 

“Not to be that person, but I noticed that a lot of the straws haven’t been stocked up. I feel like I have to do it every time. I just wonder what she’s doing when she’s back here…”

You do your best to not let it get to you. He’s never worked in the service industry before, he’s probably just doing his best to make sure that his efforts are being noticed. You were almost lucky, in that way, that you were the only real waitress they’d hired. 

It’s an unusually warm day as you slide in through the back entrance to work. You’re your usual twenty minutes early, lucky that there’s enough work to do that Carmen often encourages punctuality (and thus, fairly compensates for it). 

Liam is scheduled today, but he’s leaving after the lunch shift. You get your break while the kitchen does prep-work for dinner, and then you’re coming back for dinner as well. 

Marcus is in his corner, kneading bread dough with a concentrated look on his face. You brush past him with an airy hello that he returns with a half-hearted wave, not looking up from his task. 

Tina is on vegetables, and she stops you for a moment to ask about a shipment arriving. You assure her that you’ll check when you get to the other side of the kitchen, making your way to the front.

The chairs are already all down, table cloths clean and freshly washed. Sydney went down to the laundromat to get them all clean that morning; she’d texted you and asked if you wanted to come but you told her that you really, really didn’t. 

Your first job is a pre-opening sweep, then a restock, then a menu review. You have 87 minutes until service, and Liam should be here in the next fifteen minutes or so. You have just enough time to go and bug Richie into showing you more pictures of Eva’s last birthday party. 

You stick your head into the office just in time to catch the tail end of a sentence that you definitely weren’t meant to hear; “...doesn’t even stack the chairs? What is she doing here?”

Your work anxieties - the idea that every time something goes wrong it was your fault, that one missed drink or late appetiser would have you fired, that every time a customer berated you it was actually your fault - had definitely eased some in the six months you’d been working there. You’d stopped thinking that every time someone was complaining it was about you, but that meant that when they really were talking about you, you knew. 

Liam’s standing there, leaning up against a pile of papers that Carmen is staring roughly at. He looks tired - when doesn’t he? - and like he doesn’t really want to hear whatever it was that Liam was saying. 

“A lot more than you do,” Carmen grumbles. He runs a hand over his face from the bottom up, coming to a rest when it’s gripping onto his curls. 

“I’m always covering her sections,” Liam groans. “The amount of time that Rich’s given me her table’s drinks, it’s insane. We should start pooling our tips.”

Carmen wants to say a lot back to that. That his name is Richie, and calling him Rich doesn’t make him any more like the finance frat bros that Liam is so desperate to associate with. That tip pooling would be insanely unfair to you considering Carmy’s pretty sure Liam’s made less than what you make in a day. That he stacks the chairs because he likes to, and you know that. 

Instead, he settles on “you’re always covering her sections because she’s always covering up for you when you screw up.”

Liam looks like he’s unsure whether or not to go ghostly pale or beet red at the statement. “Wh- has my performance not been up to scratch, sir?”

Carmen stands. “I didn’t really notice it, at first, cause everything was going so well. She’d never tell on you, she knows what it’s like to struggle at a job.” He looks disdainfully down at Liam’s too-new dress shoes. Professional but impractical as a waiter. From what Carmen’s noticed, this is the second pair he’s ruined. “She’d never tell me that your silverware is never rolled, so she’s been staying late and rolling every single one of them. She’d never tell me that your tables are never cleared away. She’d never tell me that you had six meals comped in your first month because you couldn’t be fucked writing shit down.

So yeah, maybe you get her tables a refill when she’s too busy telling one of us one of your guests was coeliac because you forgot to, but that does not give you the right to look down your entitled fucking nose at her.” Carmen gets close, not close enough to the point where it could be uncomfortable, but much closer than he’d ever get to Liam if he could help it. 

“You don’t like picking up her slack? That’s fine, that’s fucking fine, because to be honest, it seems like you’re creating more work for her anyway. You’re done.”

He looks pointedly towards the door to the small office. 

Liam knows exactly what Carmy’s telling him. “Sir, I-”

Carmen raises a finger and points. “You’re fucking done.”

Liam scampers away so quickly he doesn’t even see you eavesdropping. 

Carmy knows, though. He seems to have a sixth sense for when you walk into a room. If you’re not planning on coming in to confront him about firing Liam then he has no intention of bringing it up with you. He sits down, putting his forehead on his fist. “Sir.”

You’re standing right in the door, it’s practically impossible for Carmen not to notice you. But he pretends, allowing you the chance to slip away and act like you hadn’t just witnessed him firing Liam for being slightly mean to you. 

He opens his eyes to see you standing there still. 

“You didn’t have to do that,” your voice is soft. The collar of your shirt is tucked underneath on one side, and Carmen has to resist the urge to reach up and smooth it out. He’s not quite sure why and he doesn’t feel like unpacking it. “He’s still learning, I don’t mind helping him out.”

Carmen doesn’t mince his words. “He’s a dick, don’t defend him.”

He swivels away from his desk and gestures for you to sit. After a second of hesitation, you perch yourself on top of the small surface. You’re not sure who moves first, Carmen to reach up and take your hands or you to reach down to let him. Neither of you have ever spoken about it, like a lot of things. How he always makes sure you get extra food and you make sure Carmen isn’t bothered while he sets up the dining room. 

You hadn’t realised how much Liam had been heightening your anxiety while he was there. “He’s not allowed to do that to you.” Carmy sounds genuinely pissed. “You do fucking everything out there, he’s not allowed to come in and treat you like some sanctimonious fuck. You… you should’ve come to talk to me about it.” He gives in. “You could’ve.”

“I didn’t want to be a problem.” You admit quietly. “You have enough without me.”

Plenty goes unsaid between you and Carmen. You don’t talk when he drives you home in the dark, in the snow. But he’d be naive to believe that the same rules applied to everyone else. The kitchen staff talks, none more than Richie. Carmy is surprised he hadn’t decked that pre-med asshole already. 

“You’re not a problem, honey,” he says gruffly. You stay silent for a moment before realising that’s probably all you’re going to get out of him. 

“I need to go prep dining for service,” you say after a moment, not wanting to speak too loudly. 

Camry’s grip on your hand tightens and for a brief second he feels panic set in. You clearly are feeling okay, so it’s not that he needs to check on you. You’re well ahead of schedule. There’s no reason for Carmen to keep his hand enclosed around yours. And yet he does. And yet you let him.

“Liam was just in here bragging about how dining room prep was already done,” he says after a short while. “You’re well ahead of time.”

“He is,” you point out airily. “I’d never want to take credit for his work.”

Carmen squeezes your hands once, eyes crinkling at the sides. You both know you need to go over everything Liam did in an attempt to make himself look better, not one hundred percent trusting him to have done it properly. There’s 56 minutes until service before Carmen finally lets you go (and only because he has prep he needs to get done).

Plenty goes unsaid between you and Carmen. You don’t say anything when he cracks his office door open for you when you need a breather. You don’t say anything when his station’s been cleaned for him miraculously while you’re waiting for him to finish paperwork.

Luckily for you, the rest of your coworkers seem to understand this time. Nobody mentions Liam or his absence. No one mentions the stars drawn on the band-aid on Carmen’s wrist. And, most surprisingly pleasant, no one mentions how Carmen has started calling you honey more than perhaps your real name.

It makes it even nicer when everyone heads out, leaving you and Carmen alone in the restaurant for the night. They seem to have miraculously developed tact over the last 24 hours, but you’re pretty sure nothing could have stopped Richie from telling everyone about the way that Carmen holds your hand the entire way to your apartment. 

[fantasynsuch]

Adam Stanheight SFW + NSFW headcanons

REQUESTS FOR SAW OPEN!

2.3k words

Sfw

How you meet!

you two meet probably in the hallway of your crappy apartment complex.

you run into him from the corner, he had his headphones in and was listening to it on full volume, and you were running late for work

crashing head first into neighbor? you dick he probably thinks to himself as he realizes he just ran into his neighbor.

he'd seen you around before: mostly rushing to whatever crappy retail job of the month you had

he had thought you were really beautiful, but he was a coward at heart, so never did anything about it

this time he didn't have the choice to not interact with you: well, without looking like a dick

"I am SO sorry. I'm such a dumbass." He rushes out before he can think

Youre still kinda in a little bit of shock, so you just look up at this incredibly handsome man who just face planted into you for a long while

he thinks your silence is you rejecting his apologies and he quietly apologizes and runs off

but you just were so enamored by him that you couldn't say anything

at work all you can think about is how you didn't accept his apologies and probably made him feel horrible

you were determined to make things right so after work you grab a couple packs of the smokes you always saw him with from the store and rush to his apartment

you timidly knock on his door and wait with bated breath

he sees you through the peephole and momentarily considers not answering it

but he sees the bag you have in your hand and is curious

he opens it, fully expecting to be yelled at for running into you

but all that happens is you raise the bag up quickly and say "i'm so sorry i didn't say anything, i feel so bad. i just was in shock because you're s-" you stop and say nothing after realizing your rambling

he looks in the bag and notices the smokes

you smile at him shyly

and that starts a beautiful relation

how you are as friends

you stay over ALOT

he tends to not eat the best so you make him alot of dinners and lunches to make sure he's eating regularly

his work as a professional stalker keeps him up at odd hours so those pre made meals are rlly a life saver

buying each other candy and snacks alot

when the other was having a rough month fiancially, you would try to pick up the slack andhelp them

that means buying the other small groceries and items to get them through till the next check

you stay over sm the other has toiletries like tooth brushes n soap at the others place

going to parties together but only talking to one another bc ur both not super extroverted

you just go for the free alcohol

speaking of which,,, taking care of each other when the other is drunk

he holds ur hair when ur sick in the toilet,

you rub his back when he's sick

when the other is actually ill as in cold or the flu, bringing each other soup n montioring each others temp

making sure the other takes their meds to get better

inevitably the other gets sick with the same thing, but it just ends up the same way with the other taking care of u

leaving notes in his mail slot when he's busy, and since its 2004, no fast messaging so "coming over at 5!! xoxo" in his mail slot

he lives kinda like a typical man with basically only a chair and essentials , bare ass living room

taking him to the thrift store to get like a decent couch n maybe an arm chair

helping him expand his wardrope to something beyond crappy second hand flannel n white shirt (preferably without blood on it)

helping him get through his trauma over the trap

you cant exactly help him get over it, but ur there when he has bad moments

holding him while he sobs in ur lap

just stroking his hair n reminding him hes here n not at the god awful bathroom

it really calms him down and reminds him he is present in this moment, not that one

he sometimes gets insecure about his scar on his shoulder and tries to hid it but you remind him that he shouldnt be embarassed for being strong enough to survive

helping him get back into normal non stalkery photographer- his need to make money to live kinda outweighed his desire to just take pics of birds

speaking of which: he def loves nature photography

he lives in new jersey, so its rare he gets to do that, but its a nice treat

road trips with him n he spends the whole time as a passenger princess asking you to stop n take pics of a dead tree that has a rlllly nice backdrop

ur crappy car probably breaks down once or twice but its part of the adventure

In a relationship

kisses. lot of f'ing kisses

neck kisses, forehead kisses, navel kisses. any types!

probably is the little spoon lbr

follows ur lead for the most part

want to go to the theatre? it may take out half his money but he WILL pay for the date

probably gets u sweet treats alot n writes a little note that says "love you babe!"

he def clings to you everywhere u go

got to go to the kitche? catch him hugging u from behind n not letting go

can't fall asleep without each other anymore

he used to have a twin sized mattress but he decided to buy a full after u moved intogether

speaking of which, he definitely moved into your apartment

you have a two bedroom n that allows him to have a red room for his photography and a bedroom

he probably only had a redroom and slept on the couch at his apartment tbh

typical man

very clean n likes to take showers with you

his fav thing is his hair being washed by you

the scraping on his scalp is incredibily grounding

he loves washing you as well, and not in a sexual way.

theres something so domestic about cleaning each other that he loves.

ultimately i think his interactions with cheating rich men has spoiled a bit of his view of marriage, but with you he really can see himself settling down and being a forever thing. beyond everything, he trusts you

he craves domesticity so he will enjoy providing for you and helping with the house

loves to cook, his mom probably taught him

doesn't really have a jealousy problem, though he can get jealous from time to time

very rare, but if he does, there might actually be a substantiated reason

doesn't want kids atm, as he can barely support himself and you.

waiting up for you to get home no matter how tired he is

wants to make sure you're home safe

rlly co dependent directly following the trap. can't be in the bathroom by myself, it reminds him too much of the trap. he needs you to be in the room with you while you speak to him through the curtain, or even better, being in the shower with you.

needs constant reassurance he isnt a burden on you

he feels like you don't deserve to be with a man who has so many problems

you tell him constantly that you will be there no matter what

holding hands just to remind him of your presence.

calms him down alot more than you expect

if you happen to be late getting home from work, he may partially freak out: thinking you left him finally

you'll find him sobbing on the couch curled in on himself

he's so vulnerable after lawrence left him there

he doesn't know that lawrence didn't break his promise intentionally so he holds alot of resentment for him

kissing his cheeks and telling him you'll never leave

onto more happy things:

MOVIE NIGHTS!!! you religiously watch movies together and spend most of the time talking about the stupidity of the characters or something.

never meeting his parents bc he's not on good terms with them

LOVES THAT YOURE ABOUT HIS HEIGHT, he's not a tall man and has never been insecure about his height, but the fact he's eye level with you makes it extremely intimate in his opinion

or if you're taller than him, his man brain goes ooga booga and thinks "tall woman/man" and all bets are off

NSFW

okay, to go ahead and put this glaringly obvious thing out there: HE HAS A THING FOR BEING A SUB!!!

He needs you to take control and tell him what to do

grab him by his hair and shove him in between your legs? yes ma'am

ask him to kneel and eat you out on a hardwood floor? done

he absolutely would do anything for you

he needs reassurance what he's doing is good: and rest assured, it is

he probably is a bit messy, and not very controlled

sloppy licks and desperate sucks are common

same thing for when he's inside you

ragged thrusts and a desperate pace

hes probably desperate bc you havent let him cum the whole session

his cock is probably a bit under average length wise, but good god is his girth something to marvel at

everytime he takes you he stretches you

very skinny man, and once you get your claws into him, he probably gains weight which gives him a cute bit of chub that you love to grab onto while he's thrusting into your hole haphazardly.

its almost like a leash

he absolutely needs direction the first couple times, hes so nervous he's shaking

you ask if he wants to keep going and he nods quickly n says theres nothing he's ever wanted more, but assuming this is following the trap, he absolutely needs someone to tell him what to do

could definitely get off from watching you cum (it's def happened before, his poor red cock hadn't been touched all night beyond the grinding on the bed he's hidden from you while eating you out and seeing your intense pleasure just,, he couldn't hold on anymore)

probably circumcised with a tasteful amount of hair, enough to be cute but not enough to be annoying

his nipples are probably so sensitive and he doesnt even know it, he's never thought to play with them

the first time you brush them he gasps and leaks precum

from then on they become a regular part of your routine when playing with him

PLEASE CALL HIM A GOOD BOY!!!

the first time you do, his head is thrown back in ecstasy from your mouth on his cock, and when you pull up, you tell him to look at you while still stroking his cock, and you say "youre my good boy. cum for me my baby boy."

he immediately cums and is embarrassed for weeks, even with your reassurance that it was the hottest thing you've ever seen

speaking of head, he loves getting it but he absolutely enjoys giving it more

theres something so sexy about being able to lick you to completion

when he gets head, he's so lost in his own pleasure that he forgets to breathe and when he remembers, he takes deep breaths

is so in love with your body

he thinks your the hottest person he's ever seen

would probably want to call you mistress or momma. i dont make the rules

RIDE HIM RN

he loves when you're on top, it makes him feel so helpless

alright so: he definitely wants you to peg him

grip his hands and place them above his head, and shove his head into the mattress

anything

his fav position is with his ass up in the air with his head shoved in a pillow and his cock hanging pitifully untouched. shove your strap into his ass while he begs you to make him cum

grab his face and kiss him while he wails out from the pleasure

shove your tongue down his throat,,, something!!

IN THE ODD OCCASION HE IS FEELING DOMINANT!!

rare

but it happens

he isn't some hard dom who leaves you bruised up

he will take care of you just like he does when he's subbing, but he won't let you order him around

grabs your neck and just holds. not enough to prevent you breathing, but enough for you to know its there

still sloppy either way

with him, aftercare is a must

thing is: you can't leave him alone after he's finished subbing, as it sparks some trigger that brings him back to the bathroom, where, in his mind, lawrence left him to die

you have to take him with you

you found out after he cries out and practically tackles you begging you to not leave and to stay with him and to not abandon him

its alot of rambling, but once you get him to calm down, he is pretty embarrassed, but you understand

you tell him to get up and hold his hand, or hug, while walking to the bathroom

wiping a rag on his oversensitive cock to clean it and seeing his face scrunch up is ur fav thing

you might make him eat his cum out of you to clean you up, but it just depends on how he feels. and it might start up a whole nother round so its a gamble

he probably doesn't fall asleep immediately afterward, and will stay there stroking your hair while you sleep to remind himself you're there, you aren't leaving and you love him

LOTS OF LOVE YOU'S DURING AND AFTER!!

something about you telling him you love him does something: it might be from him feeling useless and like a burden

when he finally sleeps, he's the little spoon and he whispers a quick,"thank you"before nodding off

I HOPE YOU ENJOYED THIS!!! I LOVE ADAM AND SAW AND AND pLS REQUEST SOMETHING!!

[buckevanley]

any other bodily sense.

you can also read it here on ao3

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Buck. His boy. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Why not?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He asked for Eddie.  

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

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

Who would ever want just Eddie? 

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

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

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

And yeah, okay, Eddie deserves that one. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“And what about going to the bathroom?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Buck?” Eddie rasps. “You okay?” 

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

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

And Christopher thought Eddie’s dad sneezes were bad. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“A what?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And just what the fuck is that all about? 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Can we try something?” he asks. 

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

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

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

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

“In the upstairs bathroom, second drawer down.” 

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

“Buck?” Eddie pauses. “You okay?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Alright. Hold still.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Eddie can be good. 

Maybe he always has been. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Eddie?” Buck whispers. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Can’t hear you. Too busy sleeping.” 

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

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

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

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

“You made me a couch-bed,” he says simply, staring up at Eddie in such awe that Eddie can’t help it. He laughs, soft and relieved, and feeling infinitely lighter than he has in months. Before Buck can get the wrong idea, he leans down and presses another kiss right against the strawberry pink of Buck’s birthmark. 

“It’s you, Buck,” he says, shrugging, a fond smile growing on his face as he stares down into those big, earnest baby blues. “It’s always you.”

That seems to do it for Buck, because the next thing Eddie knows he’s being pulled down and Buck is surging up and crushing their mouths together in a kiss. The angle is awkward, and their noses bump together hard enough that Eddie’s eyes water, but he doesn’t even care because Buck’s lips are warm against his, and everything about it is goofy and wonderful and perfect but there’s just one problem.

“Oh, no, Buck—come on,” Eddie rips himself away as soon as he remembers, leaning back and wiping at his mouth as Buck laughter fills up the tiny bathroom. He groans, “You’re going to get me sick.” 

“Sorry,” Buck says, not sounding sorry at all, the bastard. “Couldn’t wait.”  

“Yeah, I’ll bet,” Eddie shakes his head, pinching Buck’s side playfully till he twists, swatting at Eddie’s hand with a gasped out laugh. “C’mon, let’s get you in that couch-bed.” 

“Only if you be my pillow,” Buck replies, practically beaming, and who is Eddie to deny an injured man what he wants? 

Buck is out like a light the second Eddie gets him back into some warm sleep clothes, and Eddie can’t help but smile at the way his friend sighs like an overworked puppy when he finally settles down into bed, feeling all kinds of gooey and fond at the sight of him. 

In the morning they’ll talk about it. They’ll have to. But for now, Eddie is content to turn off the lights in the loft and crawl into bed beside his best friend, his partner. His boy. 

The second he settles, Buck shifts, turning his head to tuck his snotty nose against the hinge of Eddie’s jaw, and in that moment Eddie doesn’t even care if it gets him sick, so long as he can keep being the warmth that Buck reaches for in sleep.

[lottielov3r]

prom?

summary- you gain the courage to ask your best friend to prom

warnings: yall this is long asf. fluff, its been sitting in my drafts for WEEKS, andd i rushed the end im sorry😔

1000+ word count.

you watched this little blonde girl trip over a rock and scrape her knee when she looked up at you with tears welling in her eyes, you immediately felt like you needed to help. you pushed up your glasses as you walked over to her and took some tissues out of your bag and helped dab the blood before deciding on what to say, "i'm y/n. i'm sorry you scraped your knee but you should be alright. what's your name?" she looked up as you flash small grin her way, "i'm jackie."

ever since that day in kindergarten, you and jackie had been inseparable, you were always there to protect her and she was always there to support you. you started going over to her house after school to play dolls which changed to watching movies, to playing video games, and now to cooking for her, driving her around town, and looking at her with a different type of love in your eyes.

you listen to the smiths as you pull up to her house, texting her that you were there. you push up your glasses and you tap the steering wheel as you watch her strut her way over to your car in a casual "shopping outfit", as she liked to call it. when she gets in she kisses you on the cheek, leaving a small mark of lip gloss which causes you to groan and wipe it off. "um excuse me? since when do you wipe off my kisses?" she says with a slight offended expression. "since jeff pinned me against my locker and asked me why you were kissing me on the cheek but you know i don't actually mind." you smile as you pull out of her driveway, heading towards the mall.

the two of you sat in comfortable silence, tv girl playing in the background, as you navigated the roads towards the mall.

"speaking of jeff, did he ask you to prom yet?" you watch as jackie frowns slightly at your question but tries to keep her composure. "uh no he hasn't, we haven't talked in a while actually, i think we're broken up right now but anyway. i think i'll just go with shauna and lottie, they don't have dates." you frown slightly at her words but you know she doesn't mean any harm when she doesn't bring up going with you, dances aren't really your thing anyway. "oh. yeah that's cool, it's next weekend right? maybe i can help you look for dresses in the mall?" you raise your eyebrows when her face lights up, knowing y'all will be in there for hours. "oh my god! yes totally good idea!"

you pull into the mall, getting out and walking into the nearest store. you help her review many dresses in many, many, many, colors. you turn around for the 19th time as you wait for her to finish trying on a dress. "okay turn around." you sigh as you turn around expecting to see an upset jackie but instead you see the most beautiful dress ever, she looks at you expectantly as you stare in awe, jaw slightly dropped. "i-i mean wow jackie. you look absolutely gorgeous in that dress, jeff missed out." she wraps her arms around your neck, blushing slightly, pushing your glasses up your face slightly. "you really think i look good in this?" she mutters in a slightly shy tone, you know she's just looking for some form of validation. "yeah, that dress will make anyone fall in love with you." you chuckle out, still taken aback from how it looked on her.

"even you?" you stare into her eyes at her words, you know you can't tell her that the dress isn't needed for you to fall in love, that you're already falling, that you've already fallen. "yea jax, even me." she grins at your words and pulls you down into a hug, sighing in your ear when you wrap your arms around her waist. "wanna watch bojack horseman at my place? you pick what we eat." you smile as she shakes her head yes. the two of you head back to your place but not before getting some shitty mall food. y'all watch netflix for hours until shes falling asleep on your shoulder, you shake her slightly in hopes to wake her up. "let me take you home, alright? put your shoes on." she groans as she drags herself to your car, getting in the back and laying down. when you pull into her driveway she mutters a small goodbye and blows a kiss your way when she reaches the front door.

now, you know that you shouldn't even be THINKING about going to prom because dances are not your thing plus jackies the popular team captain. you're just someone who is lucky enough to be her best friend. but when you realize that it's your senior year and you just couldn't miss out on seeing jackie in that dress again, you absolutely had to. you drove to walmart, bought a poster board, a net, a soccer ball, and other supplies. when you get home you get to work, it takes you three hours, and some tears, to finally be satisfied with the poster.

the next day at school you decide that after practice would be a good time to do it, that way the whole school wouldn't see if you got rejected. you know jackie will probably say yes but as you're walking up to the field you feel like bile is collecting in the back of your throat. you watch as she walks into the locker room and take your chance. you grab the poster and ball out of the bleachers, run from across the field and stand in front of the locker room door, praying that jackie walks out first. you hold your breath when the door opens, ready to speak until your eyes widen at the sight of taissa and van. "we're already going together but you can join us if you'd like." van says with a snicker, taissa elbowing her with a laugh. "i'm assuming this is for jackie?" she says as she points a finger at your poster. "yea it is, do you think she'll like it? i kinda rushed it but she doesn't have an official date and i wanted to ask her." you ramble out before you hear a soft gasp. you watch as taissa moves to the side to reveal a teary-eyed jackie. "oh uh.." you push your glasses up and glance down towards the sign thinking about if you should just say it's for someone else to avoid being rejected.

"is that for me?" jackie questions in a breathy tone, looking surprised. "yea, i just noticed that you seemed down about not having a date and honestly i wanted to ask you. dances aren't really my thing but you're my best friend and i just had to take you." you ramble out in a strung together sentences. she looks dumbfounded as she opens her mouth and closes it again, trying to get words out. taissa and van look in between you and jackie expectantly, silently hoping she'll say yes. you gulp as jackie walks up to you and grabs the back of your neck, pulling you in for a soft kiss on the cheek.

"was that a yes orrr?" you whisper playfully. jackie gives you an award-winning smile before nodding her head and licking her lips subtly. you stare at her lips feeling like it was just the two of you in this moment, like nobody could break the string tying you together. you lean in and kiss her lips, dropping the poster as you go to grasp her hips, you head swimming with love. you hear van let out a wolf-whistle as you pull away after a few seconds, your face heating up. "was that okay?" jackie questions as she looks up at you. "more than okay. still didn't get my yes though." she giggles at you before grabbing the ball you decorated, "if you can score this into the goal then i'll say yes!" she yells as she takes off to the field. "jackie what the hell!" you say as you sprint after her.

you guys were out there for an hour before finally getting her to say "yes."

-------------

im gonna work on shorter fics yall i swear😭🙏 just let me get a grip first

and thanks to the anon who requested it, i hope it meets your expectations even though it's not exactly what you requested (sorry!)

[ughscara]

⠀⠀──── . + BLOOD–SCENTED ROSE.

જ portraits, veils, melodic tunes and unwanted gazes... doors upon doors close within the depths of urban legends told around town, and a peculiar lady's presence clinging tightly onto surreality... surely that cold chill down your spine wasn't a sign of anything drastic. much less someone watching.

⠀⠀⠀⠀── ꒰⁠ BLACK SWAN ꒱⁠˖ genres unlisted.

word count :: 1.1k

content warnings :: subtle horror themes and imagery ( ? ). mentions of an injury, blood and vague description of dead bodies. albeit only once; reader is depicted to be female. setting takes place in the canon.

additional notes :: my piece for the @/stellaronhvnters halloween event~ i chose two prompts and mixed them together ( phantom & supernatural ) to the best of my capabilities. i'm not the proudest of this particular piece since it was done in a bit of a rush, but i did my utmost :)

tagging :: @mitsvriii , @tragedy-of-commons , @wystiix .

the ever prosperous land of dreams held one's sweetest desires and wishes then transformed them into a most delightful reality. whatever it was a person sought after, whatever they wished to accomplish, and to whoever they seeked to find in life... penacony possessed all of it.

there was nothing that could disturb the sweet dream, nothing to hurdle your descent from the skies as your eyes fluttered open; greeted by darkness for a moment then falling stars the next. stars that seemed to go the opposite direction of your own.

clouds lit and outlined by bright city lights, the hustle and bustle of merchants all around, and the cheerful tunes stemming from talented musicians. awe–striking portraits of penacony's most iconic stars gazing right at you the odd sensation of being perceived dissipating as soon as your eyes darted upwards to admire the artist's handiwork. though that never hindered your journey throughout the dreamscape, moving forward and experiencing all it had to offer.

all the while hearing of a peculiar tale.

the penacony prescribed long ago had long since been plagued by a such tale, a tale that had seeped its way through the cosmos nearbying the planet, and soon enough; to those who come and go.

*death*, they say, never existed in the dreamscape.

“this is a story of a memokeeper,” they always start out, recounting the obscene disappearance of the individual like it's nothing more than an urban legend, presumably deceased and now a wandering spirit throughout the sweet dream. the exaggerated folktale even making her out to be some sort of bad omen if sighted.

bloodhound family records —— those gazed upon by ■■⁠■ ■⁠■■⁠■■⁠■■ will experience penacony abnormally. and eventually fall into their ■⁠■■⁠■■.

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

having just took a long walk through golden hour; you settled to take a break. the bar was quite crowded... at least, you presumed for such a place to be a bar, for what you were greeted with were dancing couples; accompanied by warm, low lit lights and romantic tunes. truthfully, you could leave, but your legs could barely keep up with you. so you relent and as quickly as you could secure yourself a seat.

“would you like anything, miss?” a waiter inquired, “no, thank you.” you utter with a little smile. though, you're a little taken aback to see said waiter gaze to someone else beside you. “and you, miss?”

directing your head to the side, you're greeted with an ethereal woman; shielded by a black veil that draped over her face and a long, black dress. the pale lilac hair complementing the tame color of her attire. the lady simply smiled at the waiter, serenely so, as she subtly shook her head. quietly watching the man take his leave.

safe to say, your gaze lingered on the woman next to you, entranced by the sight of her yet more or so taken aback by her presence. this table was unoccupied, was it not?

you weren't given an opportunity to think much about this as she turned her head to face you, violet eyes locking with your own in an instant, that serene smile still adorning her face beneath the silken veil. a lump found home in your throat, and a slight tension loosely embraced your figure upon feeling perceived once again for the first time in a decent while. though this... this was different, this—

“waiting for someone?” her voice gently coaxed you back into reality, the sound as ethereal as her appearance. the veiled lady took a bit of delight upon seeing your subtle shift in expression. and that subtle head shake taking her mind back to a familiar someone in another time. “i explored a lot of what golden hour had to offer. seeing as to how i was tired, i stopped by for a break.”

she hummed quietly in acknowledgement, her expression softening upon hearing your voice. “i'm sure you've made quite a memorable journey thus far.” her voice was but a quiet murmur, a tinge of longing present within it as her eyes fluttered shut, directing her head to the side whilst doing so.

it didn't take long for her eyes to open once again, watchful eyes cast upon those same dancing couples occupying this ball–like room. the romantic tunes still echoing throughout, the low and warm lights rendering you all the more enchanting to woman's eyes.

black swan figured it wouldn't be best to stay like this for long.

the brief silence was eventually broken as the veiled women extended a hand to hold onto yours, mutated hand phasing through your own in attempts to entwine your fingers together. the advance was sudden enough, the freezing sensation of an otherwise unreal touch coursing through your entire being akin to an avalanche. “how about a dance?” she said this, and all that was once around became nothing. all came to a halt except for those romantic melodies that complemented the setting, sounding the slightest bit strained just about enough to feel as though it was scratching at your ears.

you follow right behind her to the empty dance floor, purple hues of light descending onto you both as you engaged in her invitation. heels sliding against the ground in sync, the distance palpable between the two of you. her guidance was gentle, her otherworldly hold on you was but a soft embrace around your shoulder and between you was a white rose.

“(name), wasn't it?”

the lady broke the silence, her voice tinged with fondness. no response came from you, and she couldn't help but marvel at such a thing. “a name as enchanting as the memories you carry.”

the tunes of the violin and piano grew all the more strained, countless eyes watching your every move. the manner in which you danced with this eccentric lady in harmony, the manner in which you subtly rejected her little romantic advances only to be pulled back in and back to square one. those portraits you saw around the dreamscape returning to greet you in this odd realm, those prying eyes you felt once now amplified by a ten. though all you see was nothing, said portraits held nothing but decaying figures as they followed black swan's every move. never once were you able to keep your eyes away from the frames that carried elusive corpses.

you felt a stinging sensation against your chest, such a thing being soothed by her lips on your cheek, the only semblance of warmth your figure felt was through the blood that seeped out of your small wound and onto the vines of the white rose, its petals now adorned with a vibrant red.

with a kiss goodbye, and the last to be seen of you within her own dissipating memories,

the family announced your unfortunate departure within their records.

[212-apricity]

mastermind, part ten

(guys i just realised i’ve had this thing marinating in my drafts for like a day i swear i posted it omg i’m so sorry anyways💀💀💀)

i go back to school on monday im literally gonna cry i cant do this any more like💀💀

anyways i just kind of wanted to say that bc its literally depressing me now but heres part ten of mastermind😍🙌🙌

i hope you guys enjoy it and i kinda hate the ending but i have too man things ti revise for in school so…

anyways love you guys😘😘😘

warnings: kinda gruesome in the beginning (like a tiny bit) and hurt/comfort but i think thats it!!

masterlist

theodore nott masterlist

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His hands are frantic inside the sheets, trying to find your body. The damp hair falling into his eyes makes it difficult to see and his labored breathing isn’t helping either.

He sits up after feeling the cold side of the bed and shoves his hair back. His nightmares have only gotten worse the closer to Voldemort you get, memories from his father, leaving you, from the manor and fears of losing you plagued his mind every day. You were normally the only one to drag him from this kind of torture, keeping him close to your chest and speaking soothing phrases into his hair as your fingertips traced their own tattoos on his skin. But ever since he left that night he hasn’t felt that warmth and any progress you two had made in helping him get better was quickly washed away. Sometimes he’d be so distracted from the horrors he’d still think you were there; however even when his eyes adjust to the moonlit room you’re still nowhere to be seen, the spot on the bed empty and cold.

He throws off the blankets and grabs his wand on the desk next to the bed, frantic. He shakes the thoughts from his head. This was exactly like his nightmare, he’d awoken to discover you missing from his bed, only to find your bloody body laying on another bed.

He doesn’t even bother calling for help, his focus is on finding you, and quick.

The tent is eerily quiet tonight…or was it early morning? He couldn’t tell. He has a death grip on his wand, clenching so tightly that his knuckles turn white. He goes down the stairs, the cool air of the house causing the hair on his neck to stand and his fear grow. He tries to calm down, assume with a clean mind how and where to find you, but the nightmare was too vibrant, everytime he’d closed his eyes to try to take a chilled breath all he noticed turned into your lifeless eyes.

He can hear the crackling of the fire in the living room when he reaches the lowest of the steps, the warm light drawing him closer.

He lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding while he sees you curled up on the massive sofa under a warm blanket with a book in your hands. You look up on the sound, alarmed, but your eyes quickly soften once they see Theo.

He watches your eyes go from adoring to confused when you notice the wand in his hand, pointing straight at you. 

Something’s wrong. You can immediately tell by his stance, rigid and stiff, not like he always is when hes just woken up, all soft and cuddly. His hair is a mess and from where you’re sitting across the room you can see his chest heaving.

“Theo?” your stomach drops. What’s going on? Was someone hurt? You quickly throw the blanket off, ready to rush over to him when his shoulders drop with relief. He tosses the wand to the armchair next to him as he stalks forward quickly.

You walk toward him as he comes in contact with you, holding you tightly, engulfing you into him as he kisses the top of your head and buries his head in your neck. You can feel his heart racing a million miles an hour as he breathes in deep, trying to calm down before his breathing got worse.

You tuck him into yourself, dropping the book you were reading to the floor beside you as your hand immediately finds his back, beginning your path, soothing circles into the firm muscle, the other carding through his wet and tangled hair. He pulls away for a second, eyes erratically scanning over you like they’re checking for wounds. And maybe they are, maybe he just needs to know that you are unharmed and in one piece, unlike whatever he had witnessed in his sleep.

“Do you want to talk about it?” You murmur when his heart rate has slowed down. His grip on you is still tight, clinging to you. If there was something wrong with Harry, Hermione or Ron or an attack on your tent he would’ve said already. You hadn’t completely forgiven Theo for that night but your heart still pangs with guilt for not being there for him when he tore himself from the nightmare, that while he was in pain, you were sitting here reading comfortably.

He shakes his head. Maybe not now, but tomorrow, when it’s not as fresh he’ll let you know what transpired in his terror, what shook him to his very core.

“It burns,” he says, pointing to his mark. You move your hands from their place on his back and trace the skin around the mark, providing relief that courses through his body.

For now though, on the comfortable sofa in the sitting room, he nestled closer to you, letting your hands soothe him back into a peaceful slumber.

For the first time in months, Theodore Nott had finally found comfort being back in your arms.

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The next day, Hermione and Ron had made milkshakes, chocolate and strawberry. They had also made a massive mess in the kitchen with their incessant arguments.

These were the only times you’d get to enjoy some times with your friends, you’d discover.

You sat on the kitchen counter next to Theo as he made burgers and fries for the two of you, the other three had left after finishing their milkshakes to talk to Mr. Lovegood.

“No add extra cheese on mine, it’ll taste good.” You added from your place up high, sipping the shake as Theo nods and says,

“Yes ma’am,”

Before walking over to the fridge to get extra cheese slices out to put in your burger.

“Do you think things would’ve been different if we hadn’t had this whole war?” You speak up, inturrepting the music in the background.

“In what sense?” Theo asks, plating the food.

“Like…do you think we would’ve still like…” you stall trying to find the polite words as Theo raises his eyebrows, looking confused.

“Hooked up, there I said it.” You say rolling your eyes at his laughter over your choice of words.

“Oh my gosh baby,” He says between laughs as you eventually join in, “Yes! Of course we would’ve. What, do you think it took a war for me to come back to you? I would’ve come anyway, there’s no way I’m letting you go like that. Wouldn’t have left anyways. I don’t know if I’ve ever told you but you’re it for me Y/n. You’re it.”

His watercolour eyes stare deeply into yours as he comes closer, the food and laughter long forgotten as you engulf him in a hug as he apologies again for leaving. His apologies are unending, as are your kisses on his neck in final acceptance.

After what feels like hours, you two finally break away from the hold as Theo brings the plates to the living room where you’ve already set up a movie and picked a place on the sofa.

You both lay next on opposite sides of the sofa, watching the movie as you eat, legs tangled together in comfort as you warm up your body with his.

“Can I have a taste of your burger?” You ask after a few minutes.

He nods and leans over and helps you take a bite of his food, he watches as your eyes light up and you smile at him sheepishly. He rolls his eyes with a grin before trading your plate with his.

“Thanks Teddy, yours tastes a million times better!” You give him a kiss on the cheek as he trades the plates and return to your movie, completely missing the adoration in Theo’s eyes at the nickname.

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It’s a few hours after and you are now comfortably napping in Theo’s arms as the movie plays in the background.

Harry, Hermione and Ron had returned ages ago but thought it’d be best to give you two some time alone.

As always, your comfort is cut short when you hear Hermione’s shrill scream, awaking you with a jolt, doing the same to Theo as he instinctively tightens his grip around you.

“What’s going on?” He asks as Ron runs in, the two of you quickly standing and grabbing your wands, “They’re back. The Snatchers are back, run!” Ron shouts as the three of you run out to help Hermione.

But she’s long gone. As is Harry.

“Ron! Theo!” You shout in panic, turning to your left to find Ron gone as well, only deepening your fear.

You shoot spells at the Snatchers until you hear, “Crucio!” from your right.

Everything’s moving too quickly and you barley have any time to react before something, or rather someone pushes you to the ground.

As you get up off the autumn leaves, wand ready to shoot at anyone in sight you see all the Snatchers disapparating. You shift your eyes down to the ground to see who had saved you from the unforgivable curse.

A sharp gasp escapes your lips as you quickly stumble to his place on the grounds, shaking and thrashing around in pain, trying to console it best he could as he claws his mark in agony and soft, painful whimpers escape his pink lips.

“No no no no no, Theo what have you done?” You whisper, straddling him and holding his face in your hands to try lessen the pain as tears escape your eyes.

“Shh, it's okay, it's okay Theo, they’re gone now, you’ll be fine.” You try comfort him, bringing his head into your chest, remembering that providing comfort is the only way to ease the cruciatus curse.

His breathing calms down after a while as you try and shield him from the cold air fluttering around you as you both cry into each others arms. Theo pulls away, staring into your eyes with his ever-captivating ones and says determinedly, “I’m not losing you. Not like this, not now, not ever. Never again, you hear me? I’ve already lost you once and I’ll be damned if I ever let you get hurt or lose you again. God baby, I just got you back I can’t let go of you now.”

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part ten done! lmk what you think and maybe repost if you want to it really helps🤡🫶🏽🫶🏽

taglist: @timmytime17 @cherry-hoe @jetblackpayne @ash-tarte @coolestgirlhere @ama1a2 @kezibear @randomgurl2326

[rierice8]

Hey bestieee

So I think you should write Soukoku just for me bc u love me sm!!! I’ll leave all the details up to u but it must be SMUTTY AF foreplay to the max, and the rest can be whatever your pretty little heart desires

Merci ❤️anon

(Ps did I mention to make it extra smutty)

I THINK I DID YOU DIRTY BESTIE- I PUT A LOOOOT OF PLOT 😭😭

I’m not that good at writing smutty smut and I don’t wanna let down my bestie 😔

But I DO think I did you dirty…

I started writing this on the plane back home…in late August…SO IT'S BEEN A WHILE

Sorry if it feels a little plot heavy or rushed around the end, I…was not very inspired at all…usually an x reader blog but I made an exception for YOU 🫵 anyways let's say this is in celebration that skk isn’t soukover and they’re still alive!

What did you say?

Dom chuuya x sub dazai

Word count: 1876

Warnings: PLOT (scary scary oh no), drinking, drunk sex, name calling (good boy, slut, etc), size kink

Ever since the port mafia and the detective agency called a temporary truce to fight against Fyodor, to Chuuyas misfortune, Dazai has been showing up more and more often. To the point where sometimes Chuuyas afraid to open his room door in the morning since Dazai could easily be standing right there. Dazai has been purposefully trying to provoke Chuuya as much as possible, simply for the sake of being annoying. Leading us up to this evening, where Chuuya gets a knock on his door at a ridiculously late hour.

“What the fuck…who is it?!” Chuuya yelled from the living room as he stood slowly to go answer the door. The person on the other side just kept knocking too, not even stopping after Chuuya had got up to go to the door.

“Ok! Jesus fucking christ, I’m coming!” Chuuya said clearly annoyed as he groggily walked to the door and unlocked it. He didn’t even have to open the door by a centimetre before the door was flung open by who ither than Dazai.

“Chuuuuuya~ I brought wineee!!” Dazai giggled as he closed Chuuya’s door with his foot. Chuuya gave his unexpected visitor a look of sheer disgust.

“And who the fuck said you could come in?? Who invited you? Its fucking 2 in the morning?!” Chuuya yelled, but not loud enough to go through the walls, as he still had respect for his neighbours. Dazai sighed and placed his free hand on his forehead in a theatrically overdramatic way.

“But Chuuuuuyaaaaa!! I went out to buy the most expensive wine I could get just so we could get wasted together and now you're shunning me?!?! I’m going to throw myself off the roof!” Dazai cried. Chuuya all of a sudden was rather interested. Wine?

“Ooh…what kind did you get? Let me see the bottle.” Chuuya snatched the bottle from Dazai’s hand and grimaced.

“Expensive wine my ass, this might as well be from the fucking dollar store. Did you thrift this wine? Cuz I swear this shit is the cheapest thing on the shelf, fucker.” Chuuya put the bottle down on the kitched counter and got two glasses, and his own bottle of wine. Meanwhile Dazai walked to Chuuya’s living room and saw the tv was paused on a cheesy romance movie.

“Chuuya, what kinda garbage do you watch? I know I spent dirt on that wine but your brain must be dirt to think a movie like this is worth watching,” Dazai teased as he turned the tv off and waited for Chuuya to bring the wine and glasses. As Chuuya walked to the living room he scoffed.

“What do you know about romance, dipshit?” Chuuya said as he opened the bottle and poured the glasses. Dazai laughed.

“Surely I know more about romance than you do. At least I’ve had relationships before,” Chuuya scoffed and rolled his eyes at Dazai.

“Oh yeah, “relationships”. All of your relationships lasted a week or less and were toxic as fuck since I bet you’re not even interested in women,” Chuuya smirked as he took a sip of his wine. Dazai reached to grab his glass too, taking a sip and sighing.

“Aw drat! Caught me red handed again Chuuyaaa,” Dazai said sarcastically as he threw his head back dramatically.

“I guess all I’ve ever wanted was some short ginger man to fuck me dumb~” Dazai teased. Chuuya only sighed in response.

“Yeah? Just say that again when I’m a little more drunk and see where it gets you, whore.” Chuuya took another sip of his wine, while watching Dazais face turn from coy to flustered in seconds.

“What did you say?”

“Nothing, now drink up you fucker. By the way this is my own wine, not the dog shit you bought, so every drop you drink is coming out of your pocket,” Chuuya said as he refilled his own glass and went to sit down next to Dazai on the couch. Chuuya grabbed the tv remote and stuck on the movie he was watching before. Dazai laughed and immediately started mocking it

“Oh~~ Alejandro!! Mi amour!! You cannot leave me, wah~~ for look, my legs…they opened automatically!!!” Dazai laughed hysterically as he danced around the room. Chuuya held back a laugh, not wanting to give him the satisfaction.

“Bro just watch the movie. The wine is clearly already fucking with you, whatever happened to “I have a high alcohol tolareance” Dazai?” Chuuya laughed. Dazai looked almost offended as he sat down again and watched the movie.

Both of them were slowly sipping their wine glasses, unknowingly going through at least three each. Dazai lets his head slip onto Chuuyas shoulder…Chuuya runs his hand up Dazais thigh…Dazai whispers filth into Chuuya’s drunken ears...Chuuya lifts Dazai’s face by the chin and stares at him, eyes half lidded.

“What was that you said about wanting to get fucked dumb by me again?”

Dazai’s eyes shot wide open before he settled into a smug look.

“I don’t know~ did I ever even say anything?”

Chuuya scoffed as he lent in so closely to Dazai that they were basically kissing.

“Oh…well thats sad,”

Chuuya smirked as he completely pulled away, leaving Dazai sitting there stupidly with his eyes closed, as if he was waiting for Chuuya to kiss him. His eyes snapped open as Chuuya moved away completely

“Woah woah woah wait!! I was just jokinggg, I said something earlier, what, did you want me to repeat myself? I gladly will!!” Dazai chirped, basically begging.

Chuuya just nodded, waiting to see if Dazai really meant it or if he was just joking.

Dazai then lent in close to Chuuya’s ear, pressing himself against chuuya in the process and he whispered.

“I want you to to fuck me, Chuuya.”

Maybe it was pent up desire, or maybe it was just the wine, or whe way Dazai seemingly begged but either way their lips were pressed together. Dazai parting his lips slightly to leave passage for Chuuyas tongue, yet without breaking the kiss, he also stated moving to straddle Chuuya. Once Dazai found his place on Chuuya’s lap he only took a second long breather before going back to kiss the ginger. Bandaged hands running up under Chuuya’s shirt, almost achning to get the thing off. Slowly breaking the heated kiss, Chuuya moved to gently kissing along Dazais jaw before pulling away fully to look at him. Dazai’s eyes were halflidded and clouded with lust…or maybe just alcohol. Dazai steadied himself with a hand against Chuuya’s chest as Chuuya slowly unbuttoned Dazai’s shirt.

“For fucks sake just take it off already!” Dazai sighed, while Chuuya just smirked.

“You we’re the one begging for me to do with you as I want, now you’re gonna be a good boy and be patient, ok?” Dazai just gulped and nodded. Finally Dazai’s shirt was fully unbuttoned and thrown to the floor, where Chuuya then hurriedly takes his own shirt off. He peppered kisses down Dazai’s chest and started gently biting and sucking on the milky skin. Dazai’s already gasping, and tangling his hands in chuuyas hair.

“Shit...Chuuya” Dazai said as he let his head tip back. Chuuya smiled against his skin as he left little hickeys behind, all the way up to his neck, making sure they can’t be covered. He trailed his hands down Dazais chest before reaching the hem of his pants. Dazai’s breath hitched.

“You good?” Chuuya asked, making sure before moving any further. Dazai just nodded.

Bliss. That's what Dazai could describe it as, maybe if he could think. Chuuyas digits roughly fucking in and out of his ass, his head thrown back in pleasure as Chuuya kept leaving little marks all over his neck, pulling his bandages loose so that he has more access. As Chuuya fingered Dazai loose, he started playing with Dazai’s tip too, who only let out pornographic moans in response.

“Shit Chuuya- Ngh!”

Chuuya kissed him, swallowing all his moans in the heated moment.

“You’re such a slut. Letting me use you like this. You even asked for it, and now you're whining and doing absolutely nothing…what if I put you to work,” Chuuya whispered to Dazai as he stopped all his actions. Dazai whined in response

“N-no why, what? Don’t stop, come onn,”

He grumbled, Chuuya just took off his boxers and beckoned Dazai

“Ride me. Bitch.”

And without hesitation, Dazai climbed on top of Chuuya and lined up his hole with Chuuyas cock, slowly sinking down on it with an ecstatic expression, moans spilling out of the both of them.

“Shit…so deep…”

Dazai said breathlessly as he finally sat down fully. Within seconds Dazai started moving, up and down rhythmically. A small bump forming on his stomach. Chuuya just watches as it gets smaller and bigger again, moving his hand to push down on it before leaning in to Dazai’s neck, leaving kisses trailing up to his ear

“You feel that? Thats how fucking deep my cock is in you.”

Dazai moaned at Chuuya’s words. After bouncing for a while though he started slowing down, whining at the loss of sensation

“Chuuya, I can't…I’m tired…please..”

Chuuya thrust his hips up into Dazai, gipping into his hair and pulling on it.

“Please? Please what? What do you want, slut?”

“Fuck- shit Chuuya! Ngh- I just want you to fuck me already! Please-”

Chuuya then flipped Dazai over on the couch, so he was positioned on top. He then started pounding into Dazai, no remorse. As if it had been his one and only desire for years.

“Ngh- shit! Fuck I’m-”

Dazai was trying to grip the couch fabric as he failed to speak from all the sudden pleasure.

“Shit I’m gonna fucking fill you up,”

Chuuya panted out, slamming in and out of Dazai as he just writhes and moans. Dazai’s hands going to lift his legs up so Chuuya could hit deeper.

“Please do, oh fuck- Shit I’m gonna cum- mnfg!”

Chuuya bit his lip as Dazai clenched around his dick.

“Shit, me too…”

Chuuya moved so he was more so laying flush against Dazai, wanting to feel their skin touching as he uses it as leverage to also thrust harder into Dazai. Chuuya reaches down to stroke Dazai’s dick as he keeps pounding him at the same time.

“Ngh shit!! Fuck fuck I’m, Ah! I’m gonna- Mngh!”

Chuuya bit into Dazai’s collar as he only stroked him faster.

“That’s it, cum for me, good boy.”

And like on cue Dazai came just seconds later, clenching down tight around Chuuya, which only made him get closer to that edge. After a couple of thrusts Chuuya came inside Dazai. Basically collapsing on top of him moments after. Both panting and tired.

“I…never thought you were gonna take my joke seriously…very happy you did though,”

Dazai laughed breathily, Chuuya only laughing a bit in return.

“Any day…any time…I’d be more than willing to take your jokes seriously,”

Dazai’s eyes widened a bit

“Did you know I loved you, Chuuya?”

He said. Chuuya smiled and kissed him sweetly.

“Of course I did, dipshit. I’ve loved you for seven years now. That's seven years too many.”

Chuuya said with a smile, Dazai nodded.

“Yeah…seven years too many indeed…”

[wireheadbird]

Missing You [3]

previous chapter

(Al-Rawabi) female reader

Note : Hi, damn its been about a month since I posted. This is the most i could write tbh i literally squeezed my brain for this chapter to be written and its short i know BUT its different than the ones before. Warnings : slight mentions of grief, S.A, slut shaming, mentions of a gun, threatening, blood, swearing, slight angst. Summary : Hiba and reader get somewhat closer all because of an incident in their neighborhood.

639

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I walked through the always empty streets admiring how the leaves danced with the afternoon wind. I had woken up on my bed a few hours back which led me to think all the events that had happened the day before were just a bad dream. But the stinging pain and scabbing over red lines under my bangs said otherwise. Judging from the sound of the radio playing old music and no sounds coming from the television I could tell right away it was only my mother and I at home. She had suggested I take advantage of my weekend and go get some fresh air and socialize, and said something about how we’ll talk about what happened later. Which brings me here.

Looking up at the sky I realized the sun was about to set which was my sign to go back home. I was just a few blocks away when I recognized someone crossing the not so busy streets, she had headphones on with her hair fluffed up and a pair of ripped jeans with a brown shirt.

I quickly averted my gaze when I realized it was Hiba, hoping she wouldn't notice me. But in doing so I accidentally made eye contact with a group of teenage boys who were for some strange reason already looking at me. 

I swore under my breath keeping my gaze on the floor and rushed past the boys, which resulted in me bumping straight into someone’s back. “Watch where yo-” the voice paused, “oh, it’s you” Hiba snorted mockingly, turning to me. Her smirk was quickly wiped off of her face when she saw the scared expression on my face, before she could say anything a whistle sounded from behind me.

We both turned to look at where the sound was coming from, and spot the four creepy looking boys approaching us. I instinctively grabbed her hand in fear, which she squeezed in return but not taking her glaring eyes from their smirking faces. “Hey there you two, need a good fuck?” the one in a hoodie, which seemed to be the ‘leader’, taunted “We could share you know”. This caused the others to burst into laughter. A rotten smell coming from them. 

Weed

“Lets just go, please” I pull her back whispering into her ear. She turns deeming the boys not worth it and I followed along not looking back but letting go of her hand. “Oh come on,” one of the other boys whined while reaching out to grab me “It’s very obvious you don’t have an issue slutting around” I feel his disgusting eyes lingering on my neck.

A click is heard from behind me and I freeze, I could see a glint of fear flashing on their face. I looked at her and instantly recognized the small yet vital weapon she held in her hands. The same weapon that killed her. “Aw think we’ll be scared of your toy gun?” another round of laughter rings through the empty streets. 

She points her gun upwards and pulls the trigger making me almost jump out of my skin. Hiba gives me a look of…concern, but doesn’t hesitate to point it back towards the boys who make a cowardly run for it. I watch them carefully from a distance until I feel a hand turn my face to the side from my chin, a pair of worried eyes made contact with mine. Her hands tug mine down away from my ears and wipes my tears. “Let’s get you home, hm?”. 

I glance at her pocket where the, now obvious, pistol pokes out. She notices me looking and I guess she felt my fear. “It’s a toy” she takes it out and shows that the bullets are red paint-balls. “Makes them cower like puppies” she grins then helps me up.

____________________________________________________________

None of this is real, all but a figment of my imagination put into words.

[ancientwastedlores]

I Can See You!

ASK: Hi can you do the I Can See You from SNTV? The scenario would be like Loki and the reader being in the same mission and secretly liking each other but they can't. THANK U IN ADVANCE🫶

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A/N: It's been a while since FREED BY FATE, which I am thrilled to say did much better than I was expecting. Thank you for continuing to read my stuff, guys :') And thank you for more asks! I hope you enjoy <3

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I Can See You

Under the cloak of the New Moon, the Avengers compound hummed with an eerie energy. Asgardian Spirits danced around Loki, whispering ancient secrets as he channeled his rituals. These ceremonies blessed the compound with a magical shield, an ethereal protection against outside threats.

Yet, this shield bore a vulnerability. Each New Moon, Loki needed an hour to rejuvenate its power, leaving the compound momentarily exposed. The Avengers, ever vigilant, braced themselves during this time, knowing all too well it was when enemies might seize their chance.

You were stationed at the front door, the only entry point your enemies would never think to use. Steve, Sam, and Tony got the more complex entry points AND all the fun.

As you stood there, Chitauri weapons and your own version of the Iron Glove in hand, you paced back and forth, itching for some excitement.

From within the building, Loki's voice surged like a divine chant, causing the very foundations of the compound to quiver. A sense of awe enveloped you, his smooth baritone intoning in a language unknown to you. It swelled, filling the air, drowning out all else, until his voice was the very pulse of your existence. It felt sacred, all-consuming. You yearned to immerse yourself in this overwhelming force, to be one with its profound mysticism.

THWACK!

Snapping out of the religious experience, you turned your head to the right. What the hell was that?

Alarms blared inside the building, but Loki's voice remained strong. You got the excitement you were hoping for, after all!

You rushed inside to where Loki was, hoping nobody had the chance to reach him yet. The voice got louder as you got closer, and the sheer energy surrounding him and the spirits visiting him stopped you dead in your tracks. This is about as far as you could go - which means it's about as far as any enemy can go.

You took a position right outside this forcefield... and waited. Shouts, alarms, and sounds of guns and clanging armors indicated there were at least 50 men to contend with, but if Tony, Steve, and Sam were handling it, it meant the enemies were dropping like flies.

Suddenly, shadows flitted in the periphery. You squinted, spotting a group of infiltrators — mercenaries from the Ten Rings, wielding strange energy blades that pulsed with a sinister glow. Their aim was clear: to break Loki's concentration, shattering the protective shield.

As they advanced, you readied your Iron Glove, releasing a blinding burst of energy that knocked several of them off their feet. Above you, the sound of battle resonated through the hallways — Steve's shield clashing, Tony's repulsors firing, and Sam's wings echoing with swift movements.

In the midst of the chaos, you held your ground, determined to protect Loki. Every so often, you'd catch a glimpse of him through the chaos. Each time your eyes met, a silent understanding passed between you. He continued his incantation, the ethereal spirits swirling around him, a stark contrast to the violence outside their protective circle.

Suddenly, a massive force threw you off balance. One of the Ten Rings, stronger and more formidable than the others, had charged towards you. Just as he was about to strike, a protective green energy barrier emanated from Loki, throwing the assailant off course.

Loki's eyes locked onto yours, a mix of gratitude and something deeper, something neither of you had acknowledged before. The intensity of his gaze, coupled with the realization that you had just risked everything for him, made your heart race.

Not now... focus.

The energy barrier was enough to make the other thugs hesitate to approach you. The leader shouted at them to continue advancing, but some valued their lives more than their jobs and fled outside. Unknown to them, the Hulk was outside waiting for them, but that wasn't your problem.

The leader glared at you, his bloodied face and gleaming sword making you wonder, for a second, how hot Loki would look disheveled and dangerous.

You shook your head to get rid of those sinful thoughts. Focus.

The leader dropped his sword and reached into his pocket. The world around you stopped, and a breath hitched in your throat. He took out a small metallic object, a cube no bigger than the dice you played Monopoly with.

The cube shimmered under the dim light, emanating an aura so potent that even from a distance, its pull was undeniable. Etched runes, eerily reminiscent of the old Asgardian scripts, glowed on its sides. It was an artifact from the realm of Svartálfar, known for its potent disruptions to magic and spells.

The leader sneered, holding the cube high. "You think you're the only ones with ancient weapons?" he barked. With a swift movement, he crushed the cube in his palm, releasing a blinding pulse of energy.

The effect was immediate. Loki's chants faltered, his connection with the spirits weakened, and a violent tremor coursed through the compound. The quake threw many of the Ten Rings off balance, some being buried beneath the fallen debris. The protective barrier around Loki wavered, and he stumbled, the weight of the entire compound's shield on his shoulders proving too much to bear without his full concentration.

Loki's emerald eyes widened in panic as he saw the leader lunging at you. With a swift movement, he summoned his scepter and projected a beam of emerald energy, knocking the leader off his trajectory and away from you.

But the damage was done. The quake grew more violent, causing cracks to appear on the walls and floor of the compound. Alarms blared, warning of structural instability, and the compound risked collapsing on itself.

It was then that you felt a strong arm wrap around your waist. Without a word, Loki teleported both of you to a safer location, away from the chaos of the crumbling compound. You found yourselves on a hill overlooking the Avengers compound. Below, fires raged, and the earth trembled, but you were safe.

Tony and Sam flew above, and you could almost see the look of utter rage and confusion on Tony's face. You hoped the non-flying Avengers were safe, and almost as if she heard you, Wanda flew out, and Steve, Bucky, and Maria Hill floated out with her, enveloped in her red energy.

Loki and you panted heavily, leaning on each other for support. The magnitude of what had just transpired weighed heavily on both your minds. The cube, with its power to disrupt even the most potent of Asgardian spells, was a game-changer.

Loki looked at you, his eyes filled with a mix of relief and concern. "That cube… it's an artifact of Svartálfar. I've only heard of its existence."

You nodded, catching your breath. "And now we know what it can do."

It took everything in Loki not to pull you into his arms, and thank Odin you were unharmed. The mystical energy around him lingered, making you feel faint. You could still feel the walls shake as his chants grew louder. But now, with no Loki and no spirits on the compound, the Avengers had never been more vulnerable.

"We need to go back," you said. "I do; you stay here." "That's not happening... Loki, take me back." "Y/N, you're not a god, and you have no powers." "I'm an Avenger!" "Y/N!" "LOKI!"

You glared at him defiantly. "I'll walk there if I have to." "Then I will tie you down here."

The comment made you take a step back - his low voice and intense eyes made that comment so sexually charged you needed a minute to stabilize yourself. As if he heard your thoughts, he blushed a bright red and looked away from you.

"Could you not be so stubborn?" he asked. "The compound is literally falling apart."

Loki, taking a deep breath, realized the futility of arguing. "Very well," he sighed, offering his hand, "Together, then."

----

In a blink, you found yourselves back at the compound. The fires raged more fiercely, and the remnants of the Ten Rings mercenary group had regrouped, exploiting the compound's vulnerabilities.

Tony was in the thick of it, his red and gold suit glowing brightly against the darkness, his repulsor beams shooting enemies down like flies. But it wasn't enough. Wanda, her hands glowing with red energy, was creating barriers and tossing the mercenaries around, but she, too, was outnumbered.

"I'll handle the men," you shouted, drawing two Chitauri weapons from your side. "You get the shield back up!"

Before Loki could object, you dashed into the fray. Tony zoomed by your side, firing blasts at any mercenary that got too close. "Nice of you to join the party," he quipped.

Wanda joined forces with you, her telekinetic abilities perfectly complementing your combat skills. Together, the three of you formed an unbreakable front, pushing the invaders back.

Loki, meanwhile, rushed to the ritual site, attempting to regain his connection with the Asgardian spirits. As he began chanting, another familiar voice joined him. Thor, having sensed the disturbance, had returned. The brothers, their powers combined, created a force to be reckoned with. The chants became louder, and more potent, and the ethereal spirits returned, swirling around them.

You, Tony, and Wanda worked in perfect harmony. Using her powers, Wanda lifted groups of mercenaries into the air while Tony and you, with precision targeting, fired at them, effectively incapacitating them. Once subdued, they were effortlessly thrown into the waiting arms of the Hulk, who gleefully swatted them away like bothersome flies.

As the last of the mercenaries were dealt with, Loki and Thor's combined energies surged, the shield's power restored. The compound's tremors ceased, and an eerie calm settled.

The shield was back, stronger than ever.

-----

"We really need to find another way to charge those magical shields," Tony said, taking a swig from his glass. "An hour under a New Moon? We're practically begging to be invaded."

The party was on in the in-house bar and lounge, but Loki was nowhere to be seen. Not seeing the point in staying too long, you finished the rest of your drink and got up.

"Leaving already?" Tony asked, "Come on, it's 1 in the morning." "Yeah, but emotionally I'm 80, so I would want to be in bed by 8. Sorry."

He laughed and bid you good night, as did the others.

You made your way back to your room when Loki crossed your path.

The dim lighting of the hallway cast dramatic shadows, and Loki's silhouette stood out, his posture both regal and, strangely, vulnerable. His green eyes bore into yours, the same intensity from earlier lingering.

"You're heading to your chambers?" he asked, the question seemingly simple but with layers of emotion underneath.

"I am," you replied, meeting his gaze. "But not before I thank you."

He quirked an eyebrow. "Thank me?"

"For everything," you started. "You've been risking your life to shield this compound, putting yourself in the line of fire every New Moon."

He took a step closer, closing the gap between you two. "You risked just as much. Maybe even more," he said softly. "You could have stayed out of it. Yet, you chose to step into the fray, for me."

The air between you two was thick with unsaid words and emotions, neither of you breaking the gaze.

"I couldn't just stand by," you whispered. "Not when you were in danger."

A small smile tugged at Loki's lips. "And I couldn't imagine a world where you were harmed. Even the thought terrifies me."

Heart pounding, you took a bold step, bringing yourself right up to him. "Loki," you breathed, "I realized something tonight. With all the chaos and... watching those men trying to get to you. I-I can't ignore it anymore."

His voice was barely audible, filled with anticipation. "And what is it you can't ignore anymore?"

His maddening, magnetic energy made you feel weak, conveniently giving you an excuse to wrap your arms around his shoulders and pull him towards you. You ran your hands from the nape of his neck into his hair as you lifted yourself to tiptoes and kissed him deeply. As you tugged his hair gently, his arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you into him, nearly crushing you.

------

MASTERLIST

Open for new fic requests! Here are the request guidelines :)

[shuxiii]

Intoxicated love

Jang Wonyoung x Gn reader

note: this was written fast ngl so it might be bad.

You were up at 2 a.m. as usual, gazing at the ceiling, as there was always one person on your thoughts at this time. Wonyoung, ever since you professed your feeling to wonyoung she since given you these mix signals; one moment she gives you hope, the next she gives you the cold shoulder. The more you held out that wishful thinking she'd always be the cause of its faltering, you've always tried to understand her but the more you do the more it hurts you.

Your friend, Gaeul has repeatedly warned you to forget her; you've tried, but you can't seem to help but have a little faith in the tall girl. Once you did try to call it quits with her but as expected she'd say the right words to have your heart right up her fingertips again.

You stood up from your bed and walked downstairs, sighing as your insomnia worsened. You slouch down on your living room sofa, turning on the tv, distracting yourself until you can eventually sleep, half an hour passed, feeling the drowsiness finally kick in just as you were about to lay down on the couch you heard the door knock, feeling annoyed you lazily stood up glancing up at the clock "Who would be knocking at my door at 3:20 a.m in the morning." you muttered, making your way to the door  feeling quite anxious as many possible thoughts came rushing to your head, mostly bad ones.

You hesitantly opened the door, anticipating to be robbed or worse, murdered right there and then, but instead were greeted by a tipsy Wonyoung quivering slightly.

''Wonyoung? '' your eyes widen slightly, shock to see the girl who's been running on your mind all day standing Infront of your doorstep.

"Hey," she said. Your hand reaches for your nose as you grimace at the heavy alcohol odor emanating from her.

"Are you drunk? "You took a step back, motioning for her to come in, feeling awful for making her stand in the cold night. She accepted your gesture as she walked straight in, stumbling in the process.

"Why are you here, wonyoung? crossing your hands across your chest, feeling upset seeing as she ignored you all day, leaving you wondering what you did to make her avoid you.

"Nothing, I just miss you," she said, approaching you wrapping you in a sloppy embrace within her arms, her head resting in the crook of your neck.

"I'm sorry," she mumbled against your neck, making you shudder.

''I'm sorry, for not speaking with you all day..I just really had a busy and stressful time." You sighed giving in with her excuse hugging her back as she tightens the hug. You just wished she was like this when she's sober, missing you the way you miss her.

"I love you," she slurred, you stiffened at the words, the swelling sadness rising up your chest, there it is again, those three words she says whenever she's never sober, those three words you've always hoped she meant, but she never did.

"Wonyoung, your drunk you don't know what you're talking about." You let go of her grasp as she frowns at the sudden movement.

"What do you mean?" She stutters as you take a few steps back, peering back at her brown eyes, having gotten enough of this emotion being too much to handle.

"Let's stop this, whatever this is," you said, looking down at the floor, hiding your tears threatening to flow.

"You confuse me, you know? You give me hope that you could genuinely like me back, and then you take it away," your voice shaking as the tears finally fell.

"But I do love you," she said, trying to pull you back into her arms, only to be pushed away.

"That's the point, you only want me when you're drunk!" Your abrupt raise of voice startled her, as she was taken aback by your unexpected burst of confession.

"I-I don't get it," she stammers, glancing at your disheveled hair.

‘‘Of course, you don’t get it, you never do.’‘ you mumbled, silence engulfing both of you making you more dejected at her lack of response.

"I'll call Yujin-unnie to pick you up," you sighed, taking a few steps away from her, accepting her silent response as the final call for the two of you.

"But I really do love you, yn." she held your wrist, preventing you from taking another step away from her, her grip tightening as she feared you'd push her away.

"Is it love..." you hesitated. "Is it love when the only time you think of us is when you've had a little too much to drink?" You remained still, starring into her inebriated eyes, feeling overpowered by her sheer presence.

"Tell me Wonyoung, is it love if the only time you ever love me is when you're intoxicated? You gaze down at her hands, whose are clutching yours, knowing full well that she would never look at you the way you do.

"Wony, you don't get it. You don't want me like I want you...so please stop, it's hurting me too much." As tears fell on the polished floor, you felt her hold weaken a little, eventually releasing yours.

Your glistening eyes darting everywhere, fearing that one look on her face would have you crawling back to her.

wiping the tears across your cheeks, ‘’ I’ll call yujin-unnie.’’ walking away this time she didn’t try to stop you.

‘‘I'm sorry.’‘ you hear her mumble; you stop on your track you're back facing her.

‘‘It’s fine, I can't make you love me the way I love you.’ ‘

[koolkat9]

CanLiet (Aph Canada x Aph Lithuania Coffee shop and Soul mate Au

Matthew is the owner of the Coffee shop when Tolys goes to order a Coffee they talk how was their day and life

And later in the park they meet unexpectedly they spend a lot of time and talk and later they realize that they are Soul mates and they kiss.

Rating: T

Paring: CanLiet

Word Count: 991

A New World

It was a gloomy Wednesday. Though Tolys would love nothing more than to sleep in on such a dreary day and though his body called for it, he rose around 6 AM as usual. He didn’t have to be in for work until 9 AM, so it was very possible to sleep in, but he had to make a stop somewhere just before work.

He got ready for the day, a lot slower than usual. The days were getting shorter leaving even the sunniest days cast in shadow in the early morning hours. And yet, Tolys carried on. Cleaning himself up, grabbing some breakfast, getting dressed, and leaving the house by seven. He drove into the city, the streets still mostly empty save for a few early risers on their way to work.

He stopped a couple of blocks away from his office at a small little cafe that sat situated between two towering skyscrapers. Turning into the tight winding alley along its right side, he drove into the small parking lot. Luckily it was practically empty during the early morning hours, so it wasn’t hard to find one.

The winter air hit him as Tolys got out of the car. He tightly wrapped his coat around him and rushed into the warmth of the cafe.

The strong smell of coffee assaulted his nostrils. He took a deep breath in, the scent warming him inside and out (or maybe that was the heater).

But it wasn’t just the smell or heat that hit him. A burst of colour spread across his vision. Not only had Tolys come to the little cafe for their coffee, but because every Wednesday morning around this time, his soulmate came to this exact cafe. But after months of coming here, he still hadn’t narrowed it down.

“Morning Tolys,” A man greeted softly from behind the counter.

Matthew smiled at him, blue eyes shining behind his round glasses. Blue was slowly becoming Tolys’s favourite colour. So soft, and comforting. Or perhaps that was just Matthew’s gaze. He was a gentle soul, the owner of the cafe who Tolys had befriended over the past few months.

“Good morning Matthew,” Tolys quickly replied, snapping out of his awe. “The usual please.”

“Coming right up.”

Matthew took it upon himself to prepare Tolys’s coffee: one milk, two sugars. “And a muffin on the house to keep your energy up,” he concluded with a smile. He handed a mug and plate to Tolys.

“I-I couldn’t.”

“Nonsense. You’re one of my best customers. Think of it as a gift from a friend.”

Tolys still felt guilty, but he knew Matthew could be stubborn about things like this, so he let it go. Taking the muffin and his coffee, he grabbed a seat close to the window.

Now he could see all the colourful Christmas lights twinkling in the dark morning. They seemed to be getting put up earlier and earlier each year, but Tolys couldn’t complain, it added more colour to the world.

“It’s nice huh?” Matthew chimed in, taking a seat across from him.

“Mhm.”

“That reminds me, I have to get out our decorations.”

Tolys nodded. “So…how have you been?”

“Good, business has slowed down a bit since we don’t have as many people walking around and stumbling across our little corner here. But it’s okay. Peaceful even. How about you?”

“I could be better. I hate it being so dark…and the days at the office have started blurring together. But I’ll manage. I get a two-week break come Christmas and New Year's.”

“That sounds lovely.”

And for the rest of Tolys’s stay, the two caught up, discussing their weeks and plans for the upcoming holidays. But it couldn’t last. Tolys’s alarm went off, signaling his departure.

“Duty calls,” Tolys sighed.

Matthew looked just as disappointed. “I understand…See you next week?”

“Of course.”

-----

A technical glitch at his office ended up giving Tolys the Friday off. Though it was chilly, it was also sunny, so he decided to use his free time to check out the market that was occurring each weekend leading up to Christmas.

As he walked down the stoney path of the park, covered in a light layer of snow, A sudden burst of colour sprung into his vision. The brown of tree bark, the red, green, and gold of the lights up ahead, and the copper bricks of the nearby storefronts. Tolys frantically looked around, trying to spot any familiar face amongst the crowd. Pale blue eyes met his.

“Matthew…” Tolys breathed out.

Matthew gave an awkward smile, scratching the back of his neck. “Hey…I guess you figured it out.”

“You knew?”

Matthew blushed a brilliant red. “Y-Yes. You were one of the few Wednesday regulars and the colours always left with you. I’m so sorry…I just didn’t know how to approach you about it.”

Any annoyance or anger that had threatened to bubble over was settled at those words. But that didn’t leave Tolys any less confused. What did this mean now? Sure he liked Matthew and even had a small crush on him, but he couldn’t shake his anxiety.

Matthew, ever so understanding, placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. “Do you want to see more colour?” He asked gently.

Tolys hesitated for a moment, before he nodded, turning towards Matthew…his soulmate.

Matthew leaned down and pressed his lips against Tolys’s. They were cold, like the winter breeze, but Tolys still loved it. His eyes fluttered closed, arms wrapping around Matthew’s neck.

Matthew pulled him closer by his waist.

When Tolys pulled away, the world seemed even brighter than before. Even Matthew stood in awe.

“So…Would you like to join me at the market?” Matthew said after a moment, “Then maybe lunch.”

Tolys smiled innocently. “Depends. Does this count as our first date?” Matthew’s cheeks flushed once more. “I-If you’d like.”

“Then let’s go,” Tolys cheered, linking his arm with Matthew’s.

[ulfwolf]

Kaleidoscope -- Musing 301

I am a kaleidoscope   of brightly colored   broken memories 

shaken this way   one day— that way the next

Remember those amazing paper or plastic tubes with angled mirrors and pieces of colored paper or glass in the bottom, and how these colorful, amazing patterns appeared as if by magic and changed with each shake of this miracle toy? Kept me out of trouble for hours.

Today, looking back over the long years, my days could/would change as drastically, if not as beautifully. One morning, my world would be warm and brilliantly sunny as my little room’s large window faced east and had no problem letting the sun in to fill my day. And growing up in northern Sweden, in the summer this would happen at three or so in the morning.

But you get used to this and you get good at going back to sleep to resurface in a few hours.

Brightly colored, youthful kaleidoscope pieces.

Other mornings, rainy ones perhaps, clean-cool water drip-drip-dripping from the trees outside my open window, the air cool and moist and very fragrant. Easier now to turn over and head back to sleep unless your mother bangs on the door again, time to rise and shine apparently, school day and all.

Rainy, still youthful kaleidoscope pieces.

One morning, the one after my first kiss (and I can still taste it) and the kaleidoscope had gone crazy blissed. There was absolutely nothing wrong with the world—well, one thing: she was not here, for we were young and there was no sex yet or sleeping over involved. She had left shortly after that miraculous revelation of what a kiss could be, leaving me starved for more and more and more.

Later I wrote a long song called “Time” where one section reminisced about this wonder of a kiss and reads like this:

Gingerly the lips collide

the honey of the tongue

melts to form a glow

a rush, a river

 Love's forever rising tide

now innocent and young

surges in a slowly

mounting quiver

 This moment is sweet to touch

sweet to feel

 Harboring such

ever surreal

pleasure

 Still, time is so hard to catch

hard to hold

 When dreams all hatch

awed by your old

mythical treasure

 I still think of her now and then, although she has to be in her seventies by now just like I am. Then, she was a wisp of a girl who for some amazing reason knew how to kiss.

Glorious kaleidoscope colors and patterns called love.

But when it comes to shaking up the kaleidoscope, truly and fully, nothing holds a candle to dreams. Nothing shakes and mixes up the pieces quite like they do.

Weirdly, I often dream of my old jobs, in various configurations, and about parking my car in places or on streets where I can never find it again.

Once I dreamed about a mountain with a wide clearing down its wooded slope and suddenly the most beautiful melody rang out from speakers the size of houses along the tree-filled sides. The melody was so beautiful that it woke me up, and with it still in mind I found a recorder and hummed the melody into it before I returned to sleep.

I have since learned how to play this melody on my flute, and I play it often.

Another melody surfaced about a month later, and ditto. I hummed it into my recorder before going back to sleep and I can play it, too, on my flute.

No dream melodies since then, though.

So many bits and so many pieces and so many colors and so many combinations. Dreams.

And then there are the images that arise now and then when I meditate. Out of nowhere, into nowhere. Like little, or not-so-little fish swimming past the aquarium window and then out the side of it, into invisibility, strangely.

Sometimes (happily) my mind manages to organize the colored flecks into poems and then they rise, unsolicited and spontaneously. This can happen at any time though mostly during my walks along the Pacific (and mostly not so pacific) shoreline (Yes, I am blessed).

Writing, too—like writing this right now—brings a host of different shakes of the kaleidoscope and sometimes, a little astounded, I read on my laptop screen what my fingers hammer out on the keyboard, seemingly on their own. Then again I am a descent touch-typist so my fingers type what I think as I think it, it’s just that I’m sometimes surprised at what I think (i.e., read on the screen).

I love writing.

I love kaleidoscopes.

::

P.S. If you like what you’ve read here and would like to contribute to the creative motion, as it were, you can do so via PayPal: here.

[emeraldgladiator]

Okay, things are... messy because retcons! And the retcons tie a bit into older stuff that is at the monument not easily available, well also just flat out ignoring others. And both the story line that rung in the Parallax stuff and then the story line that ended it were used to being about massive shifts to the Green Lantern status quo all at once.

So let's take this in parts. The original story line goes:

Coast City is destroyed during the Reign of The Superman storyline

Hal in his grief makes a huge construct of it

The Guardians show up and go "That's using your ring for personal gain, bad! We're taking it away from you."

Hal snaps and fights his way through the newly remade GLC (Yes newly remade, they blew up the GLC at the end of the 80s its a long story) to Oa.

The Guardians let Sinestro out of the central battery where he was imprisoned (Long story and we'll touch on it later) as their final defense. Hal beats Sinestro and kills him, Kilowag makes one last plea to Hal not do what he's doing since its not to late yet to not be a killer, Hal kill Kilowag.

Hal absorbs the energy of the central batter and takes on the name Parallax. The Guardians for not perfectly explained in universe reasons feel they need to dump all their energy into just one of them. So all but Ganthet dies.

All of that happens over three issues because it was rushed out. (again, long story) And honestly most of issue two is just Hal beating up the GLC. These issue are collected at Emerald Twilight. Part of this was DC wanted Green Lantern to be a 'unique' hero again, they felt having more than one GL running around, much less thousands made it less special. So as part of this Alan Scott lost his ring and took on the name Sentinel, John Stewart become a Darkstar and well Guy had already witched over using Sinestro's old yellow ring that was still too close and so he gets a fight with Hal in his ongoing and Hal breaks his yellow ring. This will lead to the whole "Guy turns out to have alien ancestry" thing since the higher ups wanted him to still be a powered hero.

They then bring in Kyle and really try to ram home he is the only GL and will always be the lone GL.

Meanwhile Hal has decided "universe is full of awful stuff on the scale of Coat City getting blow up if not worse. Might as well my near unlimited powers to make a perfect universe without suffering" But to make he first needs to tear down, so he erases all of existence in the Zero Hour cross-over spherical. (Though him being behind it was a big twist so we only find out at the very end of the second to last issue so not a lot of time spent with him and the debate over his actions)

As you can imagine he's stopped history is put back to mostly what it was before. Hal and Kyle however end up on Oa and fight, Hal tries to use the energy Oa has to recharge so Kyle blows the whole thing up to stop him.

Hal kicks around as Parallax showing up here and there, I'm lead to understand the higher ups didn't want to spend to much time on him and turned down story ideas that centered him too much likely out of fear of it overshadowing Kyle.

Final Night special occur es, A sun Eater is well, I think you can figure out what its doing. No one is able to stop it, so Kyle has the idea of going to Hal for help. This leads to the Final Night Parallax issue which is kind of essential to Final Night working, otherwise Hal kind of just take the whole damn special over in the last issue when he had not been involved prior to that. Hal pulls a heroic sacrifice, reigniting the sun well keeping it sudden flare in heat form causing even more damage.

So Hal is dead at this point.

Last Judgment occurs. The Specter's host has left it for a bit and a devil uses this to grab hold of it and unleash Hell on earth. Heroes head to the afterlife to see if Jim Corrigan will leave Heaven and take the Specter back, but he no longer has the rage in him for it, he's too at peace, so he points them in the direction of Purgatory.

there they find among the dead heroes who aren't fit for heaven a repentant Hal, and hey if anyone has the will to wrangle the Specter its him! So he gets the job. But he tries to take the Specter form being about vengeance to redemption. A short lived Specter series happens here with Hal, but almost everything in it will be ignored and retconed come Hal coming back to life.

Now we hit the retcon for Green Lantern Rebirth. Parallax is long the name Hal taken because after dumping the ring for just having almost all the green energy in him and his world view having changed. Its an ancient embodiment of fear itself.

Hey remember how I said we'd touch on things currently not easily available, at least legally? Yeah that's where this comes in. Its also where the the "they blew up the GLC at the end of 80s" thing comes back.

So leading up to the first time they blew up the GLC All the Guardians had left the universe after COIE (long story) and the GLC put Sinestro on trial after he blew up Kilowag's homplanet and the vote comes in to put him to death. But turns out for yet another very long story, the Guardians had long ago set up the Central Battery to destroy itself if they or any of their agents ever killed a male of Sinestro's species.

Hal flies into the Battery and Find Sinestro's mind had entered it and joined with the yellow impurity. He stops him and stabilize the Battery just enough to keep the tiny number of rings left (like... four) going. At least till the Guardians come back at the start of the 90s.

This according to the retcon is when Hal got infected by Parallax.

When Coast City was blown up it finally took full hold over Hal feeding on his fear of tomorrow and what other horrific things like that might happen. It pushed him the direction of doing all that he did as Parallax. And then added in actually the Sinestro whose neck he snapped in Emerald Twilight was just a construct. Also The Specter was trying to help purge his soul of Parallax and that's why he took him as a host.

Parallax Hal Arc - my understanding of it

So, of the few comics I've actually read, Parallax Hal and Spectre Hal were major plot points. I didn't read the full storyline however, seeing as I couldn't find it.

My understanding OF WHAT I READ is that:

Hal was imprisoned in the main Lantern Battery on Oa where Parallax was also imprisoned.

Sinestro knew and that was part of his plans.

Hal was manipulated into becoming Parallax's host.

Hal obliterated Oa, killed most of the Green Lantern Corps, and destroyed Coast City.

Spectre, the embodiment of vengeance or smt, decided to also inhabit Hal's body because he was trying to prevent Parallax from causing more damage.

Hal died sometime between destroying Coast City and Spectre jumping into his body.

Guy owns a restaurant. He's also the most chill I've ever seen him in any media ever. AND he's retired from Lantern stuff

All of the Earth GLs are on good terms with Hal (especially Guy???)

Oliver was nearly killed by Spectre? maybe?? unclear

Spectre and Parallax leave Hal's body because Parallax has gained enough power to manifest on his own.

All 4 Earth Lanterns fight Parallax.

The Justice League (mainly the big 3) try to fight Hal.

There's at least a full page describing how each of the Lanterns use their rings and it's really interesting and unnecessary. But also really cool. Pry this part from my cold dead hands.

Sinestro shows up, absorbs Parallax, and fucks off to the far reaches of the known galaxies.

Apparently, this isn't correct??? I get that I'm missing information, but please explain how I'm wrong about the parts that I actually read.

[bygiornogiovanna]

Hello, how have you been? I humbly invade your ask yet again for a yandere Giorno request because we crave your content like fuel.We stan your works in here religiously😤 But no rush obviously, and of course only if u wish to do so

Can we have a darling who is in awe with Gold Experience? Not only is darling fond of him but wants to physically show affection like holding hands and hugging? How would Giorno react?

Yandere! Giorno x GN! Reader who likes G.E.R

A/N: Hands down my most loved request I got since I started. It's the second time I write this since tumblr trolled me and didn't save my progress. Anyways I'm extremely tired (only exaggerating, I'm just normally tired) so I hope I can still meet your expectations (this is kinda really crack so enjoy xd) :D

You've been in this mansion for a few months, in which you had multiple (failed) escaping attempts. You honestly didn't hate this place as much as you should, and neither hated its owner.

Your...boyfriend, also known as Giorno Giovanna, you two had a more 'special' relationship. More like he was your kidnapper and you had to deal with him daily because no way in hell he was going to let you go.

Moving on, as a stand user, you tried to attack him once or twice so you could escape, but to no avail. He was stronger than you and had more fighting experience, resulting in Gold Experience Requiem defeating you both times.

To be honest, you were absolutely flabbergasted when you found out he had a stand too. And you were even more shocked when you realized you grew fond of GER. It was something about that stand that attracted you, and not in a love-like way. You just wanted to hug that stand and spend time with him, even if that meant spending time with Giorno.

Actually, you didn't have something against the blonde, he was always nice to you and never hurt you (except when you tried to hurt him or escape), so you couldn't say you hated him. You could say you considered him rather attractive than not. But what you like the most about him was his stand.

"Giornooo, can I see GER again?" you said, clinging onto his arm. "Y/N, amore, you saw my stand two hours ago, why is it necessary to see it so often?" Giorno said, caressing your hair. He honestly didn't know how to feel about this. The man liked that you offered him this much attention and he surely loved that you liked his stand, which was basically him.

But, it really felt weird to watch you want to give physical affection to his stand. "I don't know, I just feel connected to your stand. Can't tell you why exactly, but I want to see him againnn." you shrugged and whined, making Giorno roll his eyes.

"Fine. But you do know that liking my stand means liking me too, don't you?" he raised an eyebrow while revealing his stand and you giggled, taking GER's hand in yours. "It's not the case, I think. I'm not sure if I like you." You joked, making him take a deep breath.

"It doesn't make sense. You can't like the manifestation of my soul but not like me. Doesn't work like that, darling" he stated, making you roll your eyes. You chose to ignore him and play with his stand's hand, making him scrunch his nose in annoyance.

"Can you stop ignoring me and play with my stand like I'm not here? I feel everything you do!" Giorno said angrily and retracted his stand. Was he really jealous of his stand? "Noo, bring him back!" you whined and he nodded his head negatively.

"No, you're not seeing GER until you learn to give me attention too!..." he started rambling and, after a two seconds long pause, "Am I jealous of my own stand? Yes. Is it stupid? Also yes. Do I care? Absolutely not."

Seeing him get so worked up over nothing made you start laughing uncontrollably. "Nah, no way you are jealous of your stand." you say after two minutes of laughing, making him sigh. "Leave me alone, you are the one obsessed with me."

"You are the one that kidnapped me." you replied and he rolled his eyes. "Irrelevant."

"Come here little baby." you rolled your eyes back at him and hugged him.

[marvel-m-lee]

Are you still doing requests? If so, could we please get lee!Hawks? I don't care so much who the ler is! Preferably with his wings getting their just desserts. 😁

Weird Wings

Words: 4184

Fandom: MHA

Characters: Lee!Hawks, Ler!Endeavour (mini lee!todoroki, Lee/ler!fuyumi)

Summary: Hawks keeps acting weird whenever his wings are touched and Endeavour is trying to figure out why, until his family shows him.

A/N: this is 4k words long. It's probably one of my favourite fanfics. It took 2-3 hours to write too. Honestly I love it. Plus the mini family scene is my favourite. ALSO YAY. Sorry its adorable, stay safe yall, and ty for this 😭😭😭

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"Im glad we could come out for a meal again, Endeavour" The winged hero teased, the two having just ordered their meal.

Of course, the number one hero sat with his arms crossed, looking down to his second place. The two were wearing casual clothes- as casual as they could at least. Hawks had invited Endeavour out for a meal to chat about work along with other things like hanging out next Tuesday or catching up with his family.

"What did you want to talk about Hawks" Endeavour ordered as Hawks gave a toothy smile. Of course the winged hero sat back with his hands up as if put at gun point while chuckling.

"Woah! Endeavour! I just wanted to catch up, like old friends"

"We aren't old friends"

"No but we're new ones! How's life up top Number One?" Hawks teased, leaning on the table while looking up to the taller man.

Endeavour sighed, rolling his eyes and leaning forward a little. "Fine. I'm currently Training Shoto along with his friends; as a favour. They're out right now with a few sidekicks so I could attend this meeting actually"

Hawks grinned, "aw, thanks for taking time to see me 'Devie" Endeavour gave the younger a weird look at the nickname.

"Never call me- that- again" he replied as a waitress walked over to give them their meal. Hawks laughed it off and flirted with the waitress for a moment before the two ate their meals with a little more chatter then paying the bill to leave.

Of course, the whole time it's was mostly the Winged Hero talking, going on and on about something or other. Endeavour swore the bird enjoyed the sound of his own voice a little too much, though he still listened.

Funnily enough they talked nearly no business other than how their work was going at their new spots since all might stepped down. Even talking about that too. And it wasn't awful, but by the time the two were walking outside of the building, Endeavour was really beginning to get sick of Hawk's continious chatter.

The two stepped outside, Hawks going on and on about something Endeavour'd already forgotten about. And without thinking nor hesitation the number one hero brushed his hand along the winged hero's feathers in hopes to make him shut up for a moment.

Instead though, the younger's face began to blush and he made a strange wiggling with his body to turn his feathers away from Endeavour with a crooked smile on his face and a giggle in his sentence. He finished his sentence and checked his phone for the time, suddenly in a rush.

Endeavour furrowed his eyebrows and watched closely at Hawk's reaction, slightly confused at how hawks had suddenly become a little flustered. The winged hero rubbed his neck and stretched his back.

"Ah! Have you seen the time? Wow, we should really get back to our agencies- nice chatting though, we should do this again sometime Endeavour. See you around!" With that he was off and took to the skies, a couple teenage girls and a guy squealed, two fainting as they saw him fly away, screaming his name.

Hawks smiled down to them but not once looked back at Endeavour, nor made eye contact for less than a second after the attempt to make him shut up.

Endeavour questioned it in his mind but overall just decided to let it go for the moment. But it kept popping up, again and again.

The next time they fought it happened, against the Villian Dabi who at that moment had Hawks in a tricky position and decided to dance a hand up his wings which resulted in a crooked smile and slightly pink face (though it was difficult to see with all the fighting) before Hawks pushed free and the fight continued.

Again it happened when they were training some of the kids together, Hawks insisted on helping Endevour (mostly to get an idea of the three boys) and helped out one day. Though, of course, Izuku Midoriya got a little too close while asking a thousand questions and mumbling about the hero's wings while touching them making him jump away with again a crooked smile and awkward laugh, telling him that it was enough for one day before helping out a bit more.

That day however, was the third or forth time Endeavour had seen it happen and wondered if it were perhaps something that hurt the winged hero or made him nervous as he always acted a little strange afterwards.

That evening the three boys went over to the Todoroki's and the two Pro Hero's went into Endeavour's office.

Hawks walloped in and threw himself onto the hero's chair behind the desk, putting his feet up jokingly with his grin at Endeavour who just looked down at him with a deadbeat face.

"So, what's up Endevour? Got a top secret mission? Or is it about one of the kid? Their doing really well actually, they're gonna be good pro hero's-" Endevour had walked around and ran a hand over the top of Hawk's marginal convert and alula at the tip of his wings and suddenly the hero shut up and jumped out of the chair while tryna laugh it off as looking at Endeavour while talking.

"You know you should really look at the person your talking to Endeavour" Hawks chuckled, trying to keep his composure, "its manners!"

For a moment to fire hero only looked at him with his hand on the chair Hawk's had previously been sitting on.

"Does it hurt when I do that?"

"I- Huh? What?" Hawks tried to sound confused.

"When I touch your wings like that, you seem to go all strange. Your smile goes crooked and you begin acting strange. It happened at the restaurant, then with the attack, and along with today when young Deku touched your wings."

Hawks just stood there for a minute, rather surprised at how much attention Endeavour had placed on him. He couldn't expect much less though from the number one hero.

"So, I will ask again. Does it hurt you whenever somebody touches your wings? If so-"

"No- no! No its nothing like that" Hawks chuckled nervously, rubbing his neck and smiling. "No its fine, it doesn't hurt"

"Then what is it?" Endeavour asked, rather bluntly.

Hawks only smiled, hoping to avoid the topic of conversation as it was pretty weird and awkward to tell your hero to stop touching your wings because it tickled. Nevertheless, Endeavour stood by his chair and watched Hawks, awaiting an answer.

Hawks laughed nervously, "my wings are sensitive. I told you before, they're still a part of my body so i can still feel things." Hawks looked around at his red wings as they stretched out. Endeavour stepped forwards, still confused as to what that had anything to do with what he was asking.

"So does it hurt when I touch them? Or not? Is it something that effects your life as a hero?"

Endevour then touched the feathered part of his wings, running his hands along the feathers and watched Hawk's reaction as he hadn't noticed. Hawks turned to Endeavour's side and involuntary laughed, pushing himself away and stepping backwards, retracting his wings.

The small laugh that escaped Hawks mouth was much different than his usual confident one. This one seemed a little giggly and less within his control. Endevour noticed as Hawks couldn't make eye contact and held his wings close to his back, as if shying them away from him.

Hawks on the other hand felt as if butterflies were dancing round in his stomach, fluttering up his winged bones and back down to his stomach making him giggle and bite his lip and hold his stomach. He hadn't expected Endevour to try again, nor to actually seemly attempt at tickling him.

He could physically feel the way his face turned another shade of pink and couldn't keep his composure, totally flustered and needing to get out of there quick. Endeavour only looked at him buy Hawks didn't sat anything, just hurrily left.

When Endeavour returned home, he sat down with Shoto and Fuyumi. Natsuo having either already eaten or out of the house. During that time Endeavour brought up the topic in the silence at the table.

"I have a question"

"Yeah dad?" Fuyumi jumped, happy to talk and try to be a normal family again.

Shoto ate whilst turning to listen.

"I've been working with hawks recently, but he keeps acting strange"

"Like when Midoriya touched his wing?" Shoto interrupted, having also noticed the strange behaviour for a moment but thinking nothing of it.

"Precisely"

"How was he acting strange?" Fuyumi asked, confused and wanting to get a better idea of the situation. (Being much more social than her father and brother)

"When Midoriya touched his wing, he jumped backwards and shifted the conversation" Shoto explained, eating some more noddles.

Fuyumi asked how Midoriya had touched him and Endeavour only really knew by showing her. So he touched her shoulder gently and dragged his hand and fingers down from her neck to her bycep.

To both boy's surprise Fuyumi fell off her knees a little and giggled a little. Rubbing the area. Shoto just looked at her, noodles being slurrped to his mouth whilst Endeavour sat with his hand still in the air where Fuyumi just was, sat surprised by his daughters reaction.

"Are you alright Fuyumi?" Endeavour asked, slightly concerned he'd hurt her.

Fuyumi giggled but clarified she was fine, "just sensitive, that's all"

That's what Hawk's had said.

"my wings are sensitive. I told you before, they're still a part of my body so i can still feel things."

"Are you alright though?" Shoto asked, leaning up and looking over as she sat back up after Endeavour retracted his hand.

"Yeah, I'm fine! It just tickled, that all" she giggled happily but smiled at her brother.

"Tickled?" Shoto asked confused. "Did he hurt you?-" Shoto turned to Endeavour with a death glare, standing up. Fuyumi jumped up and stopped him from across the table from doing anything. The father was almost their height still sat down but nonetheless looked a little frightened at shoto's glare.

"No! Shoto! Shoto I'm fine! It's a funny feeling"

"Funny feeling?"

"Yeah- have you never heard of it before? Really? Here, let me show you"

Shoto stood as his sister walked around the table towards him, for some reason half of him was telling himself to run but he wanted to know what had happened so he stood still.

Fuyumi then grabbed her younger brothers sides and began to tickle them, making the half-half hero in training double over and hold a hand to his mouth so he couldn't burst out laughing. With his other hand he grabbed his sisters hand tickling him but didn't do much else to stop it.

Muffled laughter was heard from beneath Shoto's hand and Fuyumi had realised he showed no attempts at stopping her so she continued and teased him about it, much as tickling does to a tickler, she teased and tormented her younger brother. Tickling him by his sides, his hips, his ribs and such.

Shoto's muffled laughter brought the two to the floor beside Endeavour, Fuyumi teasing Shoto as his hair began to become messy and lost his composure.

He shook his head and laughed, weakly begging his sister to stop as he wiggles around gently beneath her. The two were laughing and messing around and Endeavour watched on, still sat in the same position he was when he asked the question.

Of course he knew what tickling was, but he'd always seen it as such a childish game. But right now, watching as his children played back and forth, he began to feel a slight smile form on his face. Something very unusual for the pro hero.

He's never seen his kids play, nor encouraged it. But right now, watching as two of them tumbled around, laughing and messing around without any care, watching as they smiled while usually he saw such pain on their faces while with him. He felt happy.

By the end of it Endeavour actually did have to get involved and pull Fuyumi off her brother as not to kill him. The girl had murder in her eyes as she was pulled off- it was terrifying. But Shoto laid on the floor, totally K.O.'d by the tickling, worn out with a silly smile on and hair in his face. After he'd recovered he quickly got rid of his smile, not wanting Endeavour to see more nor look weak in front of, but smiled as Fuyumi profusely apologied from across the table as they finished their food.

Watching his two children Endeavour felt happier. And that night thought about Hawks being in that same situation his son had been in.

The next time he saw the winged pro, the two were in a small fight. It had been a couple days but even so Endeavour hadn't forgotten the situation.

By the end the two had few scrapes and scraps and returned to Endeavour's agency to get a couple repairs. They were looked over but mostly fine, and Endeavour once more invited Hawks into his office.

Of course, Hawks being a young adult and after the fight, had mostly forgotten and continued being his sarcy playful teasing self. Which Endeavour appreciated.

Of course the young hero hadn't totally forgotten- of course he thought about it the night it happened and died of embarrassment much like the rest of us would. But even so he tried his hardest to forget. And continued his ways.

Though this time he didn't make the mistake of sitting in Endeavour's chair and just stood as the number one hero closed the door behind them. Endeavour turned back around and asked whether Hawks was okay after the fight, starting up small talk before his initial plan took place.

"Few hits, a few bumps, but i'm fine. What about you? You really took those hits like it was nothing huh?"

Endeavour had a very small smile on his face, hardly noticeable unless you're the narrator who shows it to all the readers.

"No, I have a few injuries but I'm glad we're okay"

"Awe, we're you worried about me Endeavour? You really shouldn't~" Hawks teased as they stood by one another, Hawks leaning on the pro as if he was a damsel in distress who'd been rescued by her hero.

Endeavour remember how much of a little shit this man could be.

"Anyway's, what was it you wanted to talk about? Unless it really was just how worried you were for me, which honestly is way too cute-"

"Your wings"

The two words sent the hero off as he remembered the last time the two were alone in here. He kept his composure a lot better this time round though and looked up at the hero in confusion as he showed them off, sprawling them out across the air.

"Yeah? What about them?" Hawks asked, wanting to get this over and done with.

"If I touch them, you react. Why" Hawks became much more flustered at this, much to Endeavour's hopes. He retracted his wings but Endeavour had one in his hands and began to run his hands over them, knowing exactky what he was doing without showing Hawks.

Endeavour wasn't one to start anything so childish, but after the dinner with his family, and after seeing the way the smug younger hero acted, it felt kind of fun doing so and teasing him much as he teased everyone around him. It's more than just out of character for the number one hero, much to Hawk's surprise as to why he'd started it, but also surprising as to how good he was at it. He'd never tickled his children, nor anyone in decades.

"Wahait- Ehendeavour!?" Hawks tried to hold back his laughter but Endeavour continued his attack as he began to tickle under the feathers making the poor winged hero almost collapse as he began laughing harder. He honestly couldn't control himself when it came to tickling, especially his wings. It was like everything became so giggly and it was the only thing in his mind.

"Yes?" The number one hero asked, not stopping as he tickled underneath the bone in his alula and marginal converts. The sudden touch here send Hawks into hysterica, flapping the other wing a little to push himself away from the tickles and holding his sides as the butterflies danced around from his wings to his back.

Hawk's laughter was muffled by his gloved hand from his hero outfit but after that specific touch he lost it and Endeavour had never heard his laugh so light before. Doubling over from a few touches on his wings.

"Wahait! Wahahait wahait Endeavour! Sthohop it! I cahant! Nohot my whihings!"

"What? I'm only looking at them"

Hawks couldn't believe what was happening to him in that moment. Then again he couldn't really think in that moment either. His wings didn't tickle like the most of his body. More like giggly and silly touches and butterflies tickling them up and down, sending him into bubbly hysterica rather than any usual laughing.

It was as if he was a kid again. Squealing as someone tickled his tummy with their finger tips.

Hawks then flew across the room as Endeavour let go of one wing. It tickled so much that even after he'd crashed he still felt as if more feathers had grown and began tickling his wings and back. He was laying on the ground and against the wall next to a bookshelf that had fallen down from impact, his arms around his waist and head down as he laughed like a giggly kid. He tried to stop himself but couldn't for a moment before looking back up with a bright red face from embarrassment.

The last thing he expected looked back at him. Endeavour stood tall on the opposite side of the room, watching Hawks. And a massive grin stretched out across his face. Hawks couldn't lie but in thaf moment, he felt terrified but also more butterflies in his stomach.

You see, much like earlier with Fuyumi, when someone is tickling someone else, they can get a little carried away. Well the young girl definitely got this from her father. Endeavour knew nobody would ever know about this, the red embarrassment on Hawk's face told him that much. And honestly, it wasn't the worst way to spend his time. And Hawk's reaction made it worth while anyway.

Hawk's looked terrified at Endeavour's grin, then struck with fear as the man walked over to him and knelt down in front of him. Suddenly every confident part of Hawk's seemed to die in that exact moment. No villain, no hero, no lover, no person in Hawk's entire life had ever done this to him. But Endeavour, the last person in his mind to do anything like this, had frozen him in place of his embarrassment.

Hawks couldn't say anything, but didn't have to for long before Endeavour got to the point and reached towards the winged hero's sides and began to knead them, sending him into bright laughter all over again. His laughter really just danced around the room as he threw his head back and kicked the floor beneath him, holding his waist best he could with Endeavour tickling him.

"At least I've found a way to shut you up" Endeavour stated, a smirk on his face which Hawks couldn't see due to caught up in his own laughter. He shook his head, wanting to say something sarcy but being unable to having feeling so silly and not being able to think all too straight.

"EhehehEndeavour!"

"Mm?" Endeavour continued his assault and even grabbed the young adults hips and kneaded into them, making the second pro hero double over, if Endeavour had been close enough, he would have definitely gotten his head wacked.

Hawks kicked out beneath him and burst out into loud obnoxious laughter, trying to curl up to stop the hip tickles.

"Is everything alright Hawks?"

All Hawks could think about was telling Endeavour to shut up. The teasing making it far, far worse. Especially coming from him. Someone who barely even spoke, especially teased.

Hawks could barely even think of what to say, stuck between speechless and laughter and tryna get Endeavour's hands off from tickling him so much. Just as Hawk tried, Endeavour swapped and began to tickle the others ribs and just behind to where Hawk's wings meet his back. In that moment, if you thought Hawk's had already reached his top tier laughter, you would be horrible mistake.

The pro threw his head back and yelled louder than ever expected to come from his big mouth. His laughter was so loud and his grin so wide as two fingers tickled the meeting between his body and his quirk. Forget about anything else because Hawks couldn't even control himself. His wings began spazzing from out wide to curled up and he even made a few bird noises which made Endeavour calm down a little in surprise, even if he was barely even touching the area.

Hawks shook his head and begged for Endeavour's mercy which was finally granted after another bird noise. Hawk's loud obnoxiously adorable laugh bouncing off the walls before he lay flat out against the wall, giving up with a smile stuck on his face.

He felt exhausted, he didn't even care what happened now. For all he cared Endeavour could burn him up right now to be rid of him. But of course that didn't happen, and Endeavout stood up, looking down at the usually confident hero beneath him.

"Are... you dead?" He asked after a moment, perhaps a little concerned as Hawks just seemed to die on spot. Though his breathing was still heavy so he hoped he wasn't dead.

A small noise was heard from the hero but he didn't move, his face was read from laughing and only in the silence did Endeavour realise how loud they'd been and that the whole building had probably heard them.

After a moment, Hawks still dead on the floor, there was a knock on the door before Shoto walked in alone.

"Hello, I'm finishing and-" he looked over to see his dad stood above a Hawks that looked beat.

"Uh- did you kill him?" He asked, slightly unfazed.

"No!- no. I don't think so. What did you want Shoto?"

"Nothing- its fine. I'll see you later" with that the half half child left, having a slight idea of what must have happened.

Hawks finally came back to life, having definitely died on the inside due to embarrassment and laughter. His winds still felt really funny, like when you get pins and needles and it tickles a little so he tried his best not to move them from their natural state.

He trued to push himself up the wall and still had a goofy gorgeous smile on his face, hunched over a little and holding his midsection while trying to stay away from Endeavour.

When Endeavour noticed, he asked, "Are you alright Tamami?"

Hawks just stood- arms distance- and smiled, blush on his cheeks from his childhood hero having just absolutely destroyed him.

Hawks could only laugh, only just noticing how Endeavour used his name for probably the first time. He didn't say anything but his facial features told Endeavour enough.

"So, you're wings?" Endeavour asked.

Hawks sighed and ran one hand down his face in embarrassment and moved it to rub his neck. "They're sensitive, what can I say?" Once again his usual nature slowly returned to him as he recovered but the blush on his face didn't.

"If you had told me the first day I would have never done anything more" Endeavour stated. If Hawks had just told him he had ticklish wings, Endeavour would have never done anything nor said anything other than a nod. But a part of him was glad he hadn't. A part of him was glad that he did that for the younger hero.

"Yeah yeah I hear you. It's just embarrassing that's all" Hawks brushed it off, trying to move the conversation while dropping truth bombs. "Anyways, how would you like it?" Just then one of Hawk's feathers dashed from around him and began tickling Endeavour's neck, having no reaction from the number one hero at all.

Hawks was gobsmacked.

Endeavour only grinned at the playful, yet failure, attempt Hawk's made. Mostly the look on his face though as he couldn't believe it.

But then another feather popped out of no where and began to tickle behind the pro hero's ears and Endeavour's laughter was heard throughout the building. Hawk's grin returned and much as you can guess. Shit went down.

Hawks and Endeavour though, never spoke about it again.