#or maybe they're just tired of him staring at them from the corner as they relax

[suiana]

imagine yandere! drider who makes himself at home in the corner of your room one day.

you come home from work, absolutely tired and just wanting to have a break... only to hear a weird scratching sound coming from your room. what the hell could it be? surely it's just your imagination? so you make your way towards your room nonchalantly, pushing the door open and...

"wha-?!"

"oh, darling."

you freeze, staring at this... absolutely gorgeous drider who had made himself at home in the corner of your room... you were originally going to let things be until you saw the many tiny babies on the back of his spider lower body. screaming and throwing your bag at him, you slam your door shut and run away from your room as fast as you could. shit, shit, shit! a spider dilf?!

...you were going to escape until you hit your toe and started crying on the ground. the drider came out of the room (with babies and all) and nursed you back to health.

and that was your first meeting with the hot asf spider dilf in your room.

you later learned that he was surprisingly gentle and didn't mean for you to be scared by his appearance. you wanted to tell him the truth. that well, you weren't scared by his appearance, sure, you were stunned when you saw this whole ass grown dude in your room but he was hot so it doesn't really matter. but rather, his kids scared the hell out of you with their tiny beady eyes. however... you're sure that if you said that, he'd try and kill you. you've seen how caring and loving he is with his tiny spider babies after all.

you've also come to learn that he really loves making intricate web designs. designs that absolutely sparkle when the light hits them in a certain way... they're all so beautiful and mesmerizing that you can't help but compliment him whenever you can.

"hey, your patterns are beautiful as usual dude."

"ah... thank you love."

he blushes, avoiding eye contact as he shakily pulls out a flower from behind his back. right, he's been giving you these gifts at random too. it's cute. well, not when he just started out though. he used to gift you dead rats.

you were horrified when you woke up one day and saw a dead rat on your desk. what the fuck?! your drider roomie didn't seem all too phased, even looking at you expectantly as he waits for a compliment. you had to explain to him that humans don't accept gifts like that. he looked rather deflated the rest of the day after that. talking about how his spouse must hate him and stuff. you didn't know he had a spouse.

you've also realized that he's weirdly overprotective of you.

you can't even go out on dates anymore. or... talk to anyone for that matter. he once threw your phone at a wall when he saw you texting this guy you were planning on meeting up. he also gets all pissy and starts making weird spider sounds while his children crawl around your feet. you were super grossed out by that at first but you've grown used to it by now.

"dude stop, i just want to go on a date!"

"no."

"why?!"

"you already have me! that's why!"

he gets all pouty, arms crossed over his huge tits as he nags you about trying to cheat on him. you never really said anything about that before. surely he's just roleplaying because you sometimes act like his lover by giving him food and asking how he is. but this has gone too far! you have to say something!

"we aren't dating, what are you on about?"

"yeah, because we're married."

what.

you stare at him, jaw dropping as his kids tug on your pants and chat noisily. did he just... say you guys were married? you try searching his face for any lies, only to be hit by the fact that he was serious.

that's when everything starts to suddenly fit together in your mind. the gifts, the name-calling, the fact that his kids love you... damn, maybe it was also because you complimented his webs that solidified his belief that you two were together. you read somewhere that male spiders make patterns to impress potential mates.

"um..."

"hmph! don't go on any dates anymore. i can't believe you keep trying to be unfaithful. our kids will be sad you know!"

damn it, looks like you got yourself a drider husband now.

[rosierin]

tastes like sadness | suna rintarou

synopsis; (y/n) and suna have a heartfelt chat about her complicated relationship with atsumu

this fic is part of the off-season quartet™ series! for more, click here :)

It’s past midnight, and the apartment is quiet.

Suna hears the faint click of the balcony door behind him but doesn’t turn. From the soft shuffle of her steps, the faint scent of her shampoo, to the barely-there way she moves when the world is asleep—he knows it's her.

(Y/n) joins him without a word, settling into the chair beside his. A moment later, a warm mug is nudged into his hand.

“Chamomile,” she says lightly. “Don’t say I never do anything for you.”

Her voice is soft, sweet, and as gentle as the night breeze that sweeps through the air. It’s silly, really—she’s barely said a word, and yet Suna finds himself fighting the urge to close his eyes and pretend he didn’t hear, just to give her a reason to say it again.

Part of him wonders what she'd think if she ever found out. If she knew about what she did to him—if she knew that the sound of her alone could knock the air right out of his chest.

He pushes down the thought and instead glances at the mug, then at her, but she’s already curled into her blanket like some sleepy little burrito. Her hair’s a bit messy. Her eyes still carry remnants of a dream she hasn’t quite left behind. He takes a sip, lets the bitterness settle on his tongue.

“Chamomile is such a sad flavour,” he murmurs.

She huffs a quiet laugh. “You think chamomile tastes like sadness?”

“A bit.”

She doesn’t argue. Just sips hers in silence, the steam curling up toward the stars. Somewhere below them, the city glimmers—wet streets, red tail lights, a puddle reflecting the glow of a corner store sign.

The silence between them stretches. It isn’t awkward, per se—it never is with her. Their quiets speak fluently.

It’s usually so peaceful, so familiar. But tonight, it feels... a little melancholic.

Suna tries not to think about why.

“You’re up late,” she says.

“So are you.”

He doesn’t try and read her expression—not that he needs to. He knows she didn’t come out here for tea or small talk.

He's known her for so long, has had so many years to read her—learn her. By now, he knows the shape of her silences like they're his favourite song, has memorised the weight behind her all her pauses.

There’s something on her mind tonight. Something—someone—she’s been holding in all day.

And she chose him to talk to.

Not because it’ll be easy, but because she knows he’ll listen.

That knowledge settles heavily in his chest, dull and quiet. He should go inside, finish that true crime video he was watching. Make some excuse. Pretend he's tired. Walk away before it hurts.

But he doesn’t.

Because Suna never takes more than she’s willing to give.

And if this moment, this conversation, this ache—is all she’s offering, then he’ll take it. Even if it bruises something tender inside him.

She breaks the silence first.

“Do you think he likes me?”

Her voice is still quiet, still gentle. But it cleaves through him like a blade anyway.

The question is more painful for him to hear than it is for her to say, though he'd never be bold enough to say that out loud.

He stares out at the buildings, eyes unfocused, his fingers tightening slightly around the mug.

“Who?” he asks, though he already knows. Of course he knows. It's a stupid reflex—deflecting.

Nonchalance, silence—they’re the greatest weapons in his arsenal. A double-edged sword, really—because when it came to her, maybe they had always been his downfall.

“You know who.”

And there it is.

He wonders for a second what it would be like to lie. To say no. To protect himself for once. But he’s never been that kind of selfish.

So he swallows and asks—the bitterness in his throat no longer from the tea—“Do you think he does?”

“I don’t know,” she says, and her voice is so unsure it makes something twist in his chest for so many different reasons. “Sometimes it feels like yes. Other times... I think I’m imagining it. Or maybe he’s just playing around. I can’t tell.”

This time, he finally looks at her. The blanket has slipped a little, revealing the curve of her shoulder, the way she’s curled in on herself like she’s afraid of the answer. Steam from her tea curls up and around her like magic. A streetlamp glows behind her, casting its light through the strands of her hair that cascade down her shoulders like a river of gold.

Angelic, he thinks. So sad, so afraid—and still, somehow, so unbearably beautiful.

He turns his gaze back to the skyline. Tries to steady his pulse.

He’s aware the second she goes back inside, she’ll keep wondering about Atsumu.

She’ll laugh at something he says. Maybe fall for him a little more.

But right now?

Right now, she’s here.

And god, it hurts.

“You shouldn’t have to guess,” he says.

That makes her pause. Her eyes flick to him, searching for something, but he doesn’t give it. Not tonight. Maybe not ever.

“...You think I’m reading into things?”

“I think if someone wants you,” he says slowly, carefully, “they should make it obvious. Especially with you.”

Her brows furrow slightly. “Why especially me?”

He exhales through his nose, trying to gather his thoughts. The words come out before he can stop them.

“Because you overthink everything. You feel everything. You’ll blame yourself if you get hurt.”

It hangs there between them—heavy, raw, too close to the truth.

She doesn’t speak. Just holds her mug a little tighter. He hates the way their silence feels different tonight—thicker. Like maybe she’s hearing something underneath what he’s saying, has somehow managed to pick apart his brain and see through his act.

She doesn't, he realises. And he doesn't know what stings more.

“You always know what to say,” she murmurs.

Relief? Is that what he should be feeling?

He's already said so much, let words he'd only ever thought about fall from his mouth.

And still, still she doesn't know. Doesn't see it. Doesn't read between the lines of his own self-deprecating script.

Sometimes he wishes he had Atsumu's nerve. Just so he could stomp down his ugly feelings and deflect them with loud words and flirty one-liners.

But he's not that kind of person.

He's not Atsumu.

He's Suna.

And Suna... loves her so much he doesn't know what to do with himself sometimes.

So he forces it down, locks away his thoughts and feelings, and tosses away the key.

She's not his.

Might not ever be.

And he refuses to become someone else's problem.

It takes him a lot more effort than usual to play it off, forcing the smallest, faintest smirk before saying, “Yeah. I’m annoying like that.”

She smiles at that—soft, sleepy, affectionate—and rests her head against his shoulder without asking. She never does. And what makes him tense when others try, what makes him pull away without thinking, only makes him crumble when it’s her.

The thought tugs unpleasantly at his heartstrings.

He doesn’t move. Doesn’t breathe. Just lets her stay there, warm and oblivious, while his heart folds in on itself quietly. Gently. Like paper.

Because if he shifts even a little, if he opens his mouth again—

It’ll all come pouring out.

So he takes another sip of the tea. Lets the steam blur his vision, just for a moment.

“Still tastes like sadness,” he says, voice low.

“You’re such a weirdo,” she murmurs against him.

He huffs a quiet breath that doesn’t quite qualify as a laugh.

Their shoulders bump slightly, then settle again.

And somewhere inside, where no one can see, Suna’s heart breaks—quietly, completely, and without a sound.

[sourle]

Imagine shedletsky decide to keep on eye on reader from afar until he just sees them sketching anything next to the lake or talking to taph about their silly little interests and now he just thinks about it nonstop teehee

Admire

I wish I was heather

WARNINGS: Non.

Note: he found it.. interesting

Shedletsky just got back from a match, exhausted and tired. But before he could rest he had to discuss with Builderman about the previous match and deter about their teamworks.

Builderman seeing how tired Shedletsky is told him to return to his cabin, reassuring him that he can make the plan on his own.

Shedletsky just complied, albeit hesitantly. Walking out the cabin and onto the patchy dirt ground he paused, he glanced at the dock. Two silhouettes sitting next to each other.

He could instantly recognize the two by the shape of the silhouettes. [Name] distinguish(es) accessorie(s) stuck out within the shadow while Taph... Yeah he's the most recognizable.

He shrugged it off, not until he approached his cabin which was near the dock.

"Yeah! I do love to draw a couple things.. and animals... Though all I have in reference are from the book the Spectre gave us.. and from memories."

He quietly entered his cabin, yet he lingers near the door and window. Listening to [Name] talking about their interest.

A notorious exploiter who almost broke robloxia has a small interest in drawing? He finds it— interesting to say the least.

The match finally finished and he got brought back from the round, feeling his body screaming at him from the pain he walked out of the dining room into the living room of the main cabin. Plopping down onto the couch.

He let out a tired sigh, watching the fire crackles. Eating away at the woods, that somehow never ends.

He felt odd, like someone was supposed to be here. Usually. Then he remembered them.

Ah yes [Name], who would usually sit here alone waiting for Taph. But they were nowhere to be seen. Maybe at they're room or something.

He kept watching the fire, it reminded him of them. Watching the fire either from boredom or—

WHY IS HE THINKING OF THEM!?

Shedletsky grunted glancing down. At that moment he finally noticed the crayons and papers on the coffee table.

He looked back up and saw a small doodle on a single paper, he reached and picked it up.

It's him!.. it's him?

He raised a brow at a doodle of him, violet flowers surrounded him. He looks almost ethereal. There at the corner of the paper is a signature, [Name] signature.

He stares at it before folding it and pocketing it. Returning to watch the fire mocking him at his silly interest for them.

Note: Shedletsky, return their art back bro</3

[just-null]

pet..... pet au....? you have.... a pet au for the clones....?

PLEASEEEE SHARE SOME THOUGHTS AB IT😭😭😭😭❤️ I was reading a pet au Hantengu fic way back when and the person never got past chapter 3 and it's been rotting my mind. I love love love pet aus when the dynamics are just right and not weirdly predatory with the pet characters and I love your little ideas for stuff🤗🤗 Share if you feel like it, I'll be eagerly awaiting.

(Also please don't exclude Zoha in this endeavor I love that little man)

The Hantengus!! A lot of cat boys..

Context behind a lot of the language in my pet au!

[Cw! Angst(?), referenced sedation, obsessed catboys.. yandere behavior]

Upon meeting them, they're veryyy excited and sweet on you, to the point where they seem TOO familiar. As if meeting a long distant lover.. With their overly friendly greetings, all the warnings and caution from staff seem like an exaggeration, if not a complete lie.

Records show that they're not even related despite sharing eerily similar features, and having only met not too long ago. You'd never guess by how they're so perfectly coordinated. Using said coordination, they simultaneously surround you.

Constant brushes, crowding, wanting your hands on them so bad, they take whatever you're holding. It's not uncommon that they begin purring just because you're around. They quickly flip from being sweet to eager entitled of your time if allowed.

To say they're overwhelming is an understatement, but the staff practically beg you to help with the bunch.

The boys aren't complaining! They're extremely pushy and insist on staying at your place instead of the hybrid shelter, maybe a few times a week? Please!? Regardless, if you say no, you might find them in your home—and a patched up broken window—when you've been gone a while.

Ah— if you hear knocking at your door, just don't tell anyone that they're here, yeah..? Y'know what? How about you just forget about answering it at all!

Sekido is tolerant when you're around. All the fire left his body, leaving small smoldering embers. His flare ups are only a real issue if there's someone unfamiliar around or giving you a hard time. Otherwise, he's pretty content with lazing about or helping with any work you have. He likes being of use to you. He gets irritated, stressed, when you lift a finger, a habit you can tell he's used to, and swats at you for any bad habits you have. Though that goes out the window if your hand's on him. It's a wonder if he's more of a dog than a cat until he starts scratching. He's just really tired.. Karaku is mischievous but doesn't cause trouble. At least, not like he used to, not as long as he has his daily dose of you. It's like he did a complete switch, the staff say, smiling randomly and rambling in an airy tone about how this is heaven on earth! How could anyone feel down around you? It must be those charms of yours. Staying indoors is okay, but he constantly nudges you to go out with him, or entirely dragging you out. Show him around places you like to frequent so you two can experience it together, maybe have some souvenirs? Wouldn't that be fun? On the days you decline, you can find him staring at the little trinkets from past dates with fondness. Urogi always has so much he wants to tell you. He can honestly talk and pace for days without stopping if it'll keep your attention. If it doesn't, he WILL cry. His mind is faster than his mouth, and stories end up garbled and hard to follow.. Sometimes, they aren't about this life, and when referring to you, it's like he's remembering a version of you.. It always ends the same. His expression gets bleak then snaps back to blissful. A content smile replacing the strained one he wore prior as he embraces you, taking a moment to feel your weight against his. Aizetsu sits in corners and watches you through cracks in the door. You can find him somewhere in your room or general area.. looking at you.. his pupils so dilated that you barely see the blue ring at the edge. He can stand still for hours until you get up or reach for something. He's already got it for you. He's combative with Sekido for that service role. Unlike his "brother," Aizetsu's movements are measured, rushed. Like something will be taken away if he doesn't act fast, so he one ups everyone and reads you before you even ask for something. Zohakuten is annoying but doesn't try to give you a hard time. He's the most demanding, always extending his arms for you to come over and hug him. At first, you can feel the tension he holds all over his body, digging his claws into your side, then like goo, he melts. It's a double edged sword since letting go makes him twice as irritated as before. He'll brat occasionally, pushing something off a counter or banging on the windows, yelling at the stranger on the other side to get lost. No one is the victim of this more than the other four. Whereas Zohakuten would start a fight with anyone else, he just annoys the other four.

The weariness hangs heavier in their eyes than the usual hybrids, but they dont like talking about it in detail. As you could guess, prior to this overwhelming clinginess, there were rivers of agonizing desperation.

———

In this life, the boys didn't have the liberty to grow up together like usual. They were born of different parents scattered throughout the region. This wasn't the first time it happened, but they hated when it did, especially Hantengu.

Each second Hantengu's away from his boys is agony. He spent so long waiting for them to be reborn just so that they're so far away!? All he can think of are the possible ways he might die and restart the damn cycle without even having the chance to see you. He's been alive for a while now, but he's too terrified to go far on his own, so he's barely made any progress!

What if something happens and he doesn't even get to meet you? now THAT would be a fate worse than the cycle.. His caretakers are stumped on what to do with him. Any attempt at calming him down were met with opposition.

The boys are as you expect. They kept acting out in hostility and showed no sign of calming down the longer they're apart. Being moved from shelter to shelter didn't help, neither did getting handled like feral animals even if, in a way, they were.

Only the thought of you kept them going, so did the knowledge that if they found you, there's a high chance they'd find each other. You always seemed to fix everything just by being there, didn't you? So they kept hopping from shelter to shelter, some familiar, some new.

Hantengu was the first to end up in the hybrid shelter near you, then the others trickled in. It would've been decades since they've last seen each other, and based on how they're fairing, no one had it easy.

Sekido was a stray trying to stay out of shelters altogether. He did his best to keep his features hidden, both gathering info about you and the others. He made good progress, pretending to be a potential housing candidate, but he'd always get hostile with people eventually, exposing himself and having the authorities called to force him into a shelter. Each time, it felt like prison because of all the restrictions and drugs.. Like hell if this was gonna stop him. Once his limbs stop feeling like jelly, he's going to find a way out of this damn place!! Again!! In his wait, at least he can pass the time by thinking about his favorite memories of you. Karaku was mostly alright, but transferred often because his very presence made the behaviors of those around him worse. He always used the "I didn't throw the first punch" excuse, but never mentioned his constant goading and spreading seeds of doubt about forgiveness that led to agitation amongst his peers. Not only towards other hybrids but staff as well. Call it sadism or nihilism, but Karaku's favorite pass time was making everyone believe that these rehabilitation shelters were nothing but a waste. The dull, empty eyes staring back at them proved it. In reality, Karaku took pleasure in the fragility of other hybrids. It took the edge off of his own anguish. Urogi always talked about you no matter where he ended up, usually causing a wave of eye rolls. But there's always that one hybrid who doesn't know how to keep their thoughts to themselves. Thus starting Urogi's rampage, watching the red streaks of other hybrids drip down their wounds, spitting at them for daring to talk bad about you. Then came the forced transfers. He loved it, honestly. His mind floated, feeling like he was a bird again, flying to you.. then the plummet when the drugs wore off that he didn't enjoy as much. With a renewed sense of determination and a strong longing for his wings, he began yapping again. Aizetsu, like Sekido, hid his features, calm enough to stay hidden. He kept to himself, mindlessly walking anywhere and everywhere with the tiniest grain of hope that he might find you there. No terrain, weather, or event would stop him from trudging through miles of land, following his intuition to where he thinks you could be. He'd be so focused on you that he'd go days without water or food, feet covered in blisters from the endless dragging across the ground before everything went dark. Waking up in a shelter always reminded him how disappointing his body was for collapsing on him. Hm.. he'll stay and recover for now, once he feels ready, he'll take some food and go again. Zohakuten raised hell, frequently ending up in confined spaces. Because he was young, he had more restrictions to ensure his safety. That only made escaping a huge hassle.. He hated being treated like a foolish boy when he's been through horrors worse than adult scissors! The confinement and restrictions ended up being for everyone else's safety after staff realized how common Zohakuten destroyed and mangled anyone in his vicinity. A familiar prick on his skin came after his small bruised hands demolished the common area, then the heaviness of his limbs settled in. Loud thumps came from the deepest part of the shelter as he banged on the walls to be released once the drugs wore off.

Their status as "lost souls" is no secret when they began tormenting anyone who tried to house them and the employees. It seems they've met the other lost and guiding souls in the shelter before with how they interact. For better and worse, at least the guiding souls temper their mischief.

They try forming a plan on how to find you next if this shelter doesn't show any results. It'd be faster to get transferred now that they're grouped up. And like the heavens opened up, they quickly realized that won't be necessary anymore once they catch a glimpse of the light they yearned for these three recent lifetimes, you. It's you.. You!

Any and all complaints are cut short when they make a habit out of gathering near the front glass of the shelter, waiting for you to walk in or pass by. Their demeanor shift is so sudden the caretakers worry they might've accidentally dropped some pills into their food. It's not like that, unless your presence counts as a drug!

[limethefirst]

I've been reading all your recent Shadow fics and they're all SO CUTE!!! It makes me so happy to see where Shadow sort of gets to have a second chance with a new Maria, one where he can keep them safe. I was wondering though, how do you think he would react if they dyed red streaks into their hair to look like him?

Red Hair Dye

pairings: Shadow the Hedgehog x reader (platonic)

warnings: none

summary: after a trip to the store you see a hair dye that reminds you of your favorite little hedgehog

a/n: hey guys sorry i was gone this week, school started back up so slow updates and i just went through a break up so just taking things slow, here's your request tysm for your patience! (This reminds me of when I had pink highlights 😭)

The store was quiet, it was late so it wasn't very strange. You walked through the aisles, looking at all its contents. It was a small corner store no more then a 3 minute walk from your place. Light jazz music played as beeping of machines echoed through the front of the store.

You stopped in the hair dye section, taking a look at all the colors, thinking which one you liked best, not that you were sure you were even going to dye your hair. Until you spotted it, a crimson red hair dye that looked like it was on sale.

Pausing, you stared at it a bit before ultimately picking it up. You looked at the brand, knowing it was a trust worthy one when it came to hair damage and color, so without a second thought you quickly shoved it into your basket before continuing to browse a bit more.

The trip was short lived and quickly you found yourself rushing to your bathroom, excited to try the new color you'd bought. Shadow was somewhere about but didn't seem to try and find you, seemingly hearing your rush to reach the bathroom, almost paying no mind to it.

Opening the box you grabbed everything inside, basically dumping it out onto your sink as you sorted through it. The instructions were simple, so you just went with the flow, prepping your hair and sectioning it the way you wanted.

After your hair was ready, you started to mix some of the paint, making sure to add the right amount of color so that it would be bright enough on your hair. After a bit of mixing you grabbed the small brush that came in the box, as well as the gloves. You slipped the gloves on slowly and started to apply the red.

It was a tiring process, taking you over 20 minutes to finally finish. By that point your arms were tired from being held up so long. Swiftly you exhaled and sat down against the wall, making sure your hair wasn't messed up.

A small knock interrupted your waiting. You slightly opened the door, not realizing how strong the smell of paint truly was, as the hedgehog took a quick step back, his nose scrunching.

"What are you doing?" He asked, arms crossed, not being able to fully see you as you hid behind the door, wanting to keep the hair a surprise.

You let out a small chuckle before playfully responding, "It's a secret," Shadow just gave a small sigh, knowing you wouldn't tell him till later with that type of answer.

"Don't take long then" Shadow said before turning away, probably going to go sit in your room, although he'd never say it he found comfort around you more then he did most. It was nice to be special.

You closed the door quickly, and sat in the bathroom a bit longer, waiting at least 30 minutes so that the dye would set. Shadow found it a bit annoying at how long you were taking and he was very curious as to what exactly that smell was, it was like chemicals. Maybe you were cleaning, but the more Shadow thought the more he knew it would not be cleaning.

You took a quick shower, the water was cold to make sure not a lot of dye left your hair. Once you were done the bathroom was a red mess that you'd hope would be able to come off later.

Drying yourself and changing you put on some of the lasting products in the box which were supposed to make the dye last longer as you fixed your hair, excited to show Shadow the result.

Walking towards your room you found Shadow on the edge of your bed, his arms still crossed and his posture straight as he kept his gaze steady on the novela in front of him. His eyes quickly changed over to you as he saw you enter, the first thing that caught his attention though was your hair.

It looked like you had red highlights in your hair, he was shocked to see your new look.

"I thought we could match!" You cheerfully said making your way over to him as he saw bits of red.

He let out a small huff of approval, "It looks nice," He now stood up, as you sat on the ground taking in the sight.

"So you like the emo highlights?" You jokingly asked him, knowing how Sonic and his friends had called him the emo hedgehog before.

Shadow just gave you a straight face before walking past you and out your door.

Quickly you sprung to your feet, apologizing as you followed him out, "I was kidding come back!"

[alchemistc]

Gonna be pissed as hell if Tim throws out a plotline to replace it with a three episode arc about LA on fire (what will Brad do when his house burns down?), which makes me a hypocrite and a half because here's some ripped-from-the-headlines bullshit.

Tommy's duffle lands on the bottom stair with a thump.

He glances around the space like he's seeing it for the first time - or maybe like he's just taking in the gravity of the situation. There's a quirk of his lip, an ironic shake of his head, and Buck can't quite stop himself from imagining the thought running through his mind. Despite his intentions, he'd landed here anyway.

They're both bone tired. Exhaustion seeping into their marrow, the kind of tired Buck hasn't felt like this since Texas, maybe. He wants a shower and about 48 hours of sleep.

"I'll take the couch," Tommy says, voice raspy, eyes refusing to draw towards Buck.

And the thing is.

The thing is Tommy definitely had other places to go. Other friends who would have put him up as long as he needed, people he trusted, people who cared about him. But it was Buck he'd found as things wound down, the both of them covered in soot and ash, Tommy dropping to sit beside him on the curb as they waited for relief teams to finish up at the command tent.

They'd stared at the burnt out husk of Tommy's home just long enough for the tiredness to really settle in.

"You're not taking the couch," Buck says, and flips the light switch in the downstairs bathroom. Tommy's shower gel is still under the sink, his fancy curl conditioner down to the last few dollops because he'd spent enough nights here to go through most of a bottle. They've already showered at their respective stations, but Buck knows from experience how much Tommy hates the Harbor showers ("You'd think a fire station would have better water pressure, but I'm telling you, Evan, it's about as strong as an eighty-year-old's dribbling piss.") and Buck knows he still feels like he's caked in days of grime.

"Evan," Tommy starts, and Buck can't read into that, refuses despite the way it knocks around in his chest.

"You need the rest just as much as I do," Buck argues, and Tommy's shoulders just... slump. He sighs. Nods his head. Shifts on his feet and accidentally catches Buck's eye.

The contact holds just long enough for Buck to see the tears swimming in Tommy's eyes, and he can't imagine -

It strikes Buck for maybe the first time how dumb he'd been to ask Tommy to move in here. Tommy had a life, a home, a place he'd spent a decade making his own.

He'd made a joke once about a firefighter living so close to the hills, the first time he'd had Buck over, that ironic lilt to his voice while he talked about replacing all the east facing windows the first time he experienced the Santa Ana's after moving in, and Buck had spent a good ten minutes watching the light fade from his backyard, dusk casting the hydrangea bushes in a rose-gold hue.

"If I hug you are you gonna make a break for it?" Buck asks, regretting the spiteful tone when Tommy curls further in on himself, but he ducks his head even as he's shaking it, and Buck doesn't fight the urge any longer, three long strides before Tommy's curling fists around Buck's waist and pressing his nose into the skin of Buck's neck.

("It's just stuff," he'd said, knee knocking against Buck's where they huddled together on the curb across the street, Tommy uncharacteristically fidgety as they both stared straight ahead.

"Come stay with me," Buck had responded, and felt Tommy tense so quickly he'd sort of expected him to bolt to his feet and leave.

Instead, the stillness eased out of Tommy's body all at once on an exhale, and he'd nodded out of the corner of Buck's eye. "Okay."

He hadn't quite been able to stop himself from reaching out to squeeze Tommy's knee. "Okay.")

Tommy's never been one to take more than his fair share. He breaks the hug before Buck can really get into it, sniffs once like Buck didn't notice the wetness against his neck, shifts backwards and sideways. He stops halfway through the doorframe when he catches sight of the canvas bag on the counter.

Buck just hopes Maddie actually bought the specific list Buck had sent her three hours ago. Tommy's particular about his stuff, and he'd pressed the point with his sister despite the eyebrow raise he could see in every text back she sent him. He can see Tommy doing the math - only so many people with a key to the loft, only so many people who weren't there in Tommy's neighborhood for a stretch of exhausting hours that hadn't amounted to much other than saving that purple house down on the end of the street that Tommy was always bemoaning for having a better garden than him.

"Tell Maddie thank you," Tommy says, still with that rasp to his voice that under any other circumstance would have Buck vibrating in place. When he digs through it, Buck catalogues his findings - that weird organic toothpaste Tommy swore by, the cheap electric toothbrush he refused to switch out for the better one Buck had a subscription to; a pack of briefs and socks in Tommy's preferred brand.

It's not the first time Buck has wished there wasn't a canyon between them, but he strikes the urge to quip, to smile, to reach out and try to comfort him.

His phone buzzes in his pocket and he digs it free, glances at the readout and immediately feels the ire rise in his throat again. It's from Eddie, a private response to the group message he'd sent out letting everyone know Tommy had a place to stay.

Is that a good idea?

And Buck gets the point. Understands that Eddie has his best interests in mind, but he's not here, hasn't been here, hadn't been there when they rolled down the street to find three houses already fighting the blaze.

Buck can't hold in the annoyed snort, and when he glances up it's to find Tommy's eyes on him.

"I'm gonna go shower," Buck tells him, and manages three whole steps before Tommy's hand curls around his wrist.

He doesn't seem to have the words to ask, but Buck reaches back to strip his shirt over his head anyway and shuffles them both towards the shower.

It's the least sexy thing they've ever done together, if he's being honest. Buck hasn't felt this tired in years, hasn't felt this grim in years, barely has the energy to do more than scrub at Tommy's back while he rinses his hair. Perfunctory, is a term for it, except for the way Tommy leans into the press of his fingers when he suds up Tommy's hair, except for the way Buck drops his forehead to Tommy's chest while Tommy aims the showerhead at Buck's back.

This is the kind of stupid shit Buck had meant, all those months ago, even if he'd done an extremely shitty job of expressing it. This is the kind of shit he'd pictured while Josh waxed poetic about some television show and wondered if Buck saw a future with Tommy.

By the time they're rinsed off and toweled dry Buck can barely stand, but as Tommy's footfalls echo just behind his up the stairs Buck has just enough sense left to roll open the drawer he'd never cleared out, toss Tommy a pair of clean briefs and one of his threadbare LAFD shirts.

Tommy stares at the drawer long enough for Buck to pull on his own clothes. He blinks himself out of it only when Buck stubs his toe wrestling the body pillow Tommy always pretended he wasn't going to end up curled around out from under the bed.

The drawer closes with an echoing 'snick'. Tommy tosses his own towel in the hamper and makes quick work of dressing.

His hair is gonna be a nightmare in the morning. They're both gonna be absolute messes. Buck's pretty sure the only food in this place is raw flour and approximately seventy-five chocolate croissants - he's pretty sure he used up the last of his eggs trying to perfect his meringue technique.

There's a stiff moment after they slide into bed where they both just lay on their backs and stare at the ceiling, oozing into Buck's mattress. Tommy shifts first, and Buck's sure it'll be away - no matter how often they fell asleep tangled together Tommy always ended up hugging the edge of the bed, and it's not like -

"Is this okay?" Tommy asks, even as he's shifting a leg over Buck, hands finding purchase in the cotton of Buck's sleep shirt.

It's like he's been dosed, for the way Tommy's body sliding into place next to his steals all the energy he has left in him. He blinks once, twice, manages to get a hand in Tommy's damp curls in response. The rest of it can wait for tomorrow.

"Evan?" He's sinking into it too, Buck can tell - the weight of his arm and leg pressing Buck further into the mattress, the drawl of Buck's name drifting instead of sharp.

Buck hums. Presses lips into whatever skin he can find without opening his eyes - a temple, or a cheekbone maybe. "Go to sleep, Tommy," he manages, but if Tommy responds he doesn't hear it.

[mymegrokosmos]

you stepped out of your friend's arms, surprised when mingyu's friend also pulled you into a hug. you hadn't met him before but it was a party and if gyu trusted this person then you could allow a quick moment of physical affection. you pat mingyu's arm and promise you'll see him later this week before leaving them to get drinks.

it takes you a moment to find seungcheol, watching you from where he sits beside soonyoung and seungkwan. they're deeply immersed in another argument, something about the jeans hoshi just received for his birthday and seungkwan having picked them out. you expect to see your boyfriend's tired smile, but instead, he sits with his elbows on his knees, red cup hanging loosely from one hand as he bites down on his other thumb.

his eyes are hard and angry, and he leans back when you approach. you pause to watch the way he throws back the rest of his drink in one long gulp, adams apple bobbing as he swallows. he doesn't say anything, but his arm slides around your waist as you take a seat on his lap, pulling you close.

"cheol."

he hums softly in response, but you see the way his jaw tightens just a little.

you sigh. "cheollie, please look at me."

he does as you ask, head turning to meet your eyes. you reach over to rest a hand on his cheek, thumb brushing over the line of his jaw. it feels tight but relaxes a little at your touch as he leans into you.

"I love you."

you watch the way any jealousy and anger melt from his expression at your words. the way his eyebrows unknit and the hint of a pout immediately disappears. you press a kiss to the corner of his lips, and the hand on your waist tightens, squeezing your side for a second. he drops his now empty cup on the coffee table in favour of resting his other hand on your thigh.

"only you, okay?"

seungcheol smiles at you. "only me." he nods. "not gyu's pretty friend."

you laugh and let your head move to rest against his shoulder. "was he pretty? I didn't notice."

your boyfriend quirks one eyebrow at you in challenge. he doesn't believe you for a second. you decide to see how far you can push it.

"no?"

you shake your head. "the only man I'm looking at is you babe."

seungcheol rolls his eyes, shaking his head even as the hand on your thigh squeezes once. he likes your answer even though it's cheesy.

"simp."

you just smile at him. "loser."

he pouts. "hey!"

you laugh, arm sliding around his neck as you nuzzle closer into him. "but you're my loser."

he sighs. "I guess I can live with that. but I'm going to need kisses to make up for it."

"oh, bribery you say?"

he nods.

"I think I can make that happen."

you lean in to kiss him properly this time, not noticing mingyu and friend on their way back from the kitchen. he cups your chin to angle your face a little as he deepens the kiss. you just smile against his lips, mumbling I love you's between kisses. you can feel the way he lights up at the reassurance.

"and these two love birds are coups hyung and y/n. you met her earlier."

mingyu's tired tone brings you out of your little bubble. you pull back from your boyfriend with a sigh.

"gyu, if your timing was any worse, I might actually let jeonghan suffocate you in your sleep next time you sleep over."

the tall man just blinks at you. "like he hasn't tried it at least three times. I'm still here. for now. anyway, are you two done sucking face for the night? I'd like to enjoy my beer."

cheol sighs, forehead resting against your shoulder as he tries to talk himself down from cursing your mutual friend. you reach down to run a hand through his fading peach coloured hair. it's getting long enough to really play with now and he hums at your touch.

"you could just stop staring."

mingyu shrugs, dropping into a seat on the couch opposite you. his friend follows, much quieter now. you tilt your head slightly. okay, so maybe he is pretty. but that's for someone else to appreciate.

you nudge seungcheol, tapping at the hand on your thigh. "cheollie stop contemplating gyu's murder and say hello to... sorry what was your name again?"

"seokmin."

you nod, smiling at your sulking boyfriend as he glances up at you. "baby say hello to seokmin, you can talk to hannie and shua about potential crimes later."

he sighs but puts on a smile, keeping his arm secure around you as he leans across the coffee table to shake seokmin's hand. mingyu just gives you a look that asks what's up with him. you shrug and he sips his beer, offering you a sip.

usually, you wouldn't hesitate to reach over and snag the cup. sharing drinks with cheol's and your friends wasn't uncommon. tonight, though, with the weight of seungcheol's hand on one hip, you just shake your head. mingyu frowns but doesn't question it. he'll ask you about this later you're sure.

"speaking of, we should go see if shua still needs that ride home later."

you slide out of cheol's grasp, turning to take his hand as he gets up. he has other plans, arm coming around your shoulders as he pulls you into him.

"we'll catch up later, yeah?"

gyu nods. "text me when you get home please."

you promise him you will, waving as cheol shuffles you off upstairs. you smile, reaching up to hold the hand draped over your shoulder.

"so, seokmin huh?"

your other arm slides around seungcheol's waist, hand sliding into the back pocket of his jeans as he looks at you.

"don't tease me right now, baby. it's mean."

you lean into his side, pressing up on your toes to kiss his cheek. "you know I love you."

"I do." he kisses your forehead. "but give me a few days to get used to the idea of another kid we have to adopt."

you laugh. "you act like gyu just brought home a stray."

he blinks at you. "how did we end up with wonwoo and vernon again?"

you sigh. "okay, okay. but gyu is your son, you raised him this way."

he just smiles. "and yet, he's your favourite too."

you shake your head. "I don't have favourites cheollie. I love all of our children equally."

he just bumps your hip with his. "liar."

"okay so maybe I have favourites plural."

he nods. "that's more like it. now come on, we'd better rescue shua from truth or drink before your brother ends up sleeping in our spare bedroom until Sunday."

you blink as that sinks in. "nope, that can be hannie's problem." you follow as he pushes open a door to reveal a games room where a bunch of your friends and acquaintances sit circled around on the floor. "I am not taking responsibility for their idiocy tonight."

"hong jisoo I know you're in here."

joshua's head pops up from jeonghan's lap and you sigh. he seems tipsy but not as flushed as you were expecting.

"we're heading out soon, are you coming or no?"

both men stumble to standing, supporting each other as they say their goodbyes to their other friends. you sigh and turn to glance up at your boyfriend.

"they're gone aren't they?"

he nods. "looks like we're hosting brunch again tomorrow."

you kissed his hand. "okay, help me get them to the car and I'll cook."

"deal."

[p-seduonym]

The Little Light That Got Lost (Part Eleven)

A/N: Almost done! Will get to the climax soon I promise! Also, I have no idea how to right for John. That may be obvious or it may not, idk.

Taglist: @cheust, @i-simp-for-women, @goodsoup19, @143637-hrrm, @delias-stuff, @12nitled, @cutenessbun, @rinkydinkythinky, @trashlanternfish360, @bunbunbread, @daddysfangirls-dc, @justannie18, @moon0goddess

Part One

Part Two

Part 2.5

Interlude

Part Three

Part Four

Part Five

Part Six

Part Seven

Part Eight

Part Nine

Part Ten

Field Notes – Wayne Manor, Child’s Quarters Subject: Casey Wayne Observer: J. Constantine Date: [REDACTED]

Room’s too big for a kid that small. Bed, wardrobe, nightstand—all oversized. Like someone shrank the occupant or built the room for a different child entirely.

Only thing that fits: a cheap little table dead center. Plastic. Primary colors. Two chairs to match—one pink, one blue. Tea set on top. Not plastic. Ceramic. Hand-painted flowers. Someone gave a lot of care to something bound to get broken.

But the kid’s not there. No movement. No sound.

Nearly wrote them off as missing until I caught the tip of something—tiny feet sticking out from under the bed. Just enough of a gap between the frame and the floor to fit a body their size. Didn’t call out. Just made a note and kept my distance. They were watching me before I ever walked in.

Lit a cigarette. Didn’t smoke it—just let the smoke linger. Pennyworth’ll give me hell for it.

Transcript Begins:

CONSTANTINE: “Rough week, eh kid?” No response.

Kneeled down, not too close. Didn’t crowd them. Just enough to be noticed.

Looked like a cat, that kid—wary but watching. Under their arm: a toy duck. Looked like hell. Missing an eye. All stitched up.

CONSTANTINE: “Funny thing, that toy. Looks like someone tried to kill it.” No answer. Just a thumb over one of its wings.

CONSTANTINE: “Right then. Mister Duck, is it? You seen some odd things, haven’t you? Woke up with your stuffing outside your body, stitched back up by the butler. Rough go, that.” Their lips twitched. They shrunk back.

CASEY (murmured): “Ducat.”

CONSTANTINE: “Yeah?”

CASEY: “His name is Ducat.”

CONSTANTINE: “Of course.” Not much, but getting somewhere.

CONSTANTINE: “Alright, Mister Ducat—can you tell me what you’ve seen?”

CASEY: “He can’t talk.”

CONSTANTINE: “Oh, I reckon he can. He’s just got a mouth full of secrets.” Silence. They start to rock slightly.

CONSTANTINE: “Got told you didn’t want to talk. That’s fine, eh? Mister Ducat can do all the talking.”

Took a drag of the cigarette. Just one.

CONSTANTINE: “What kind of secrets does he keep, then? The kind that whisper when the lights are off?” No answer. Just more rocking.

CONSTANTINE: “You know, I’ve met a few toys in my time. One was stuffed with straw and Latin verses. Another had teeth in its belly. Your mate here—he’s got the look of something that’s been places.”

They sighed—not tired, almost annoyed.

CASEY: “Ducat doesn’t keep secrets. Titus hurt him, so Alfred had to fix him.”

CONSTANTINE: “Yeah? The dog hurt him?”

CASEY: “Yeah, so he went away to the hospital.”

CONSTANTINE: “He went to the hospital, huh?”

They pointed a tiny arm out from under the bed. At a toy trunk in the corner.

CONSTANTINE: “Ah, you put him there to get better?”

CASEY: “Yes.”

CONSTANTINE: “So you think he doesn’t know anything?”

CASEY: “He doesn’t.”

CONSTANTINE: “How do you know?” Pause.

CASEY: “Maybe I’ll ask him.”

Sat down on the floor. Cold to the touch.

CONSTANTINE: “Alright Mister Ducat. Can you tell me about your mate Casey? I heard they’ve been having troubles.” They clutched Ducat tighter.

CONSTANTINE: “Walking while they're asleep. Speaking things no one understands. Seeing things that no one else can.”

Silence. Heavy. They stared at Ducat like he might betray them.

CONSTANTINE: “Do you know what they’re seeing?”

Slow headshake. Then:

CASEY: “It’s not things. It’s them.”

CONSTANTINE: “Who’s ‘them’?”

CASEY: Shrug. “I dunno. They were here a long time ago.”

CONSTANTINE: “A long time ago?”

CASEY: “Yeah. Before Daddy. And Alfred. And everyone.”

CONSTANTINE: “And what do they want?”

CASEY: Shrugs again. “I dunno. They keep me up though.”

CONSTANTINE: “Yeah, I heard you were having trouble sleeping.”

They hum. A soft, tuneless little sound.

CONSTANTINE: “Want me to make them go away?”

CASEY: “...You can’t.”

CONSTANTINE: “Why you say that?”

CASEY: “Yaya says there always there—” They stop. Sudden.

CONSTANTINE: “Yaya, huh? That your friend?”

CASEY: “...Yaya is Yaya.”

CONSTANTINE: “You know her long?” Silence.

CONSTANTINE: “I’ll take that as a yes. So Yaya says they can’t go away?”

CASEY: “...When people are hurting and scared, they can’t leave.”

CONSTANTINE: “She say that too?”

CASEY: “...Yes.”

CONSTANTINE: “So Yaya can’t leave?”

CASEY: “No.”

CONSTANTINE: “You think Yaya’s hurting?”

CASEY: “I dunno… maybe.”

CONSTANTINE: “Hey, kid, listen. I can make them stop hurting, y’know? They’ll go away—”

CASEY: “Don’t!—Ah!”

CONSTANTINE: “Kid?”

They shot up. Too fast. Knocked their head on the bedframe.

CASEY (panicked): “Don’t make Yaya go away! Don’t make her leave!”

Now sitting on the bed. One sock off. Heel bruised—small, round mark. Old. Like they kicked something harder than they meant to. Or someone didn’t notice they’d been hurt. Still holding Ducat. Tighter than before.

CONSTANTINE: “You don’t want Yaya to leave?”

Shakes head.

CONSTANTINE: “Why’s that?”

CASEY: “She stays with me. Even when the lights go off.”

CONSTANTINE: “That when they come?”

CASEY: “Sometimes. Sometimes it’s just quiet. But it’s scary quiet. Like before something bad happens.”

CASEY: “Yaya sings when it’s quiet. She hums like this—” They hum a strange lullaby. Off-key. Old. Didn’t recognize it.

CONSTANTINE: “She hold your hand when you’re scared?”

CASEY: “No.”

CONSTANTINE: “No?”

CASEY: “She hugs me real close. So I don’t go anywhere.”

CONSTANTINE: “You go places?”

CASEY: “Sometimes. Alfred says I do it when I sleep.”

CONSTANTINE: “So Alfred knows? What about your dad?”

Flinch. Word hit like a slap.

CASEY: “...I dunno.”

CONSTANTINE: “You don’t like your dad?”

CASEY: “I dunno. He’s busy.”

CONSTANTINE: “He busy a lot?”

CASEY: “Yes.” Fidgeting now.

CONSTANTINE: “What about your siblings?”

CASEY: “They don’t like me.”

CONSTANTINE: “What makes you think that?”

CASEY: “They don’t talk to me ‘cause I’m little.”

CONSTANTINE: “That can’t be the only reason.”

CASEY: “It is. Stephanie calls me ‘Baby Casey’ and that’s why I can’t play with them.”

CONSTANTINE: “They play without you?”

CASEY: “Yeah. Stuff like Mario Kart. I wanna play too but they won’t let me.”

CONSTANTINE: “So you play all alone?”

CASEY: “...Not always. Sometimes Duke plays. But he’s busy now.”

CONSTANTINE: “All the time?”

CASEY: “Yes.”

CONSTANTINE: “Must be lonely. Playing by yourself.”

Shakes head.

CASEY: “I’m not alone. Yaya plays with me.”

CONSTANTINE: “Yeah? What do you two play?”

CASEY: “We have tea parties. Sometimes she teaches me e-ti-quette.”

CONSTANTINE: “Etiquette, huh? That’s a big word for you, kid.”

CASEY: “Yaya says it’s when you have good manners and people like you more.”

CONSTANTINE: “I’m not really big on the whole politeness thing. But whatever floats your boat.”

Quiet again.

CASEY: “I want people to like me.”

CONSTANTINE: “I’m sure they do.”

CASEY: “Only Yaya does.”

CONSTANTINE: “Yeah? She say that?”

They just looked at me. Direct. Empty.

CASEY: “She doesn’t like you.”

CONSTANTINE: “I’m used to that.”

CASEY: “She says you’re trying to take her away from me.”

CONSTANTINE: “I’m trying to help her. You said you think she’s hurting, right?”

CASEY: “Yes.”

CONSTANTINE: “So you don’t want her to be hurting anymore, right?”

CASEY: “...But if she goes away, I’ll be all alone.”

CONSTANTINE: “Casey, listen—you're not alone—”

They weren’t listening. Just staring past me. I looked back.

Big thing. Took up nearly the whole damn room. Big-ass teeth and darker than tar.

CASEY: “She told me I’d never be alone. Even if I got buried.”

[End Transcript]

Conclusion: Kid exhibits signs of prolonged emotional isolation, limited physical affection or comfort from primary caregivers, and an intense attachment to a protective entity referred to as “Yaya.” Entity appears maternal in function. Further exploration needed into historical records of the estate and potential residual hauntings linked to the nursery and cellar spaces.

Will need to proceed carefully. Kid isn't just haunted—they’re being raised by the ghost.

A/N: I feel like this one was a bit redundant. Did it feel like that? Idk. Hope you enjoy and all that jazz. I might get more into Bruce's thoughts in the next one or I may jump straight to the climax. We'll see.

[leighsartworks216]

Suffering

Sylus x touch-averse!gn!Reader

If I had a nickel for every fic I wrote that had a white-haired, red-eyed night-dweller comforting the reader for not being able to touch them without being viscerally uncomfortable, I'd have two nickels, which isn't a lot, but it's weird that it's happened twice

Warnings: light angst, hurt/comfort, touch aversion, touch starvation, kissing, first kiss

Word Count: 1,298

Main Masterlist

First Love and Deepspace Masterlist

Second Love and Deepspace Masterlist

AO3

Tag List Form

You trace your fingertips lightly over the angle of his cheek, the bump in his nose, the soft skin under his eyes. He's so soft, so vulnerable. His eyes are closed. His brow is relaxed. He sighs as you trace over his eyebrows.

Despite your ongoing relationship, this is the closest you've ever been to him. The most intimate touch you've ever shared. It took so much effort on your part to work yourself up to even this much, but he hasn't once faltered. If you flinch away, he lets you go. Any touch you deem him worthy of, he accepts gracefully, always doing his best to accommodate you without overwhelming you.

This overall has culminated in "hand holding", where you only link your pinkies together, and lingering near each other to the point of almost-but-not-quite touching. You know he wants to embrace you. Hold you close, bury his face in your neck and rest his hands flat on the skin of your back, legs tangled together.

Even now, there's a gap between you both. He lays on his side of the bed and you lay on yours. You touch his chin, faltering.

"I'm sorry I don't touch you the way you want me to," you whisper into the still air.

His eyes open right away. Piercing eyes that gleam in the dim light, staring into your very soul. "Don't apologize for that, kitten," he dismisses, matching the volume of your voice.

You frown, but you don't want to stop just yet. He's so soft and warm. You trace his jaw, avoiding his gaze. "Why shouldn't I? I know it's hard for you..."

"It's hard for you, too," he argues. "Why should you be the one to suffer for my sake?"

"Why do you have to suffer for mine?"

His lips quirk up slightly. You can't stop yourself from tracing the corners, where the skin bends around his lip. His eyes flicker down. You can almost feel his desire to kiss or bite your fingertips, and the effort it takes to stay still.

"For moments like this," he answers after a moment. He lets his eyes close again. "Absence makes the heart grow fonder, doesn't it?"

You pinch his cheek. He chuckles. "Yeah, but I'm not absent. Don't you want a partner who can give you all the attention you want?"

"No." He opens his eyes again, half-lidded and docile. "I want you."

You smooth your thumb over his cheek where you pinched him. In a small voice, you ask, "Are you sure?"

He hums. "More than anything."

You hesitantly meet his eyes. They're so full of warmth and care. There's no deception to be found at all. No hidden flicker of a grimace or eye roll or anything. You can't help the disbelief that runs its course through your head.

How many partners in the past have been upset with your lack of physical affection? How many called you cold and uncaring? How many forced you to accept their touch, even as it burned like acid on your skin? How many...?

Your first thought is how one day, he will be tired of this dance. He'll be overcome with the need to be touched, held, doted on, and you won't be able to provide. Maybe he'll be like that one ex, who caressed and kissed someone else right in front of you after you pulled your hand away. Or maybe he'll seek it out in secret, with someone far more beautiful and far more willing than you; any of the beautiful people that would do anything for him to even glance their way. Or maybe he'll just leave you right there, with scathing words that denounce you as being broken and unworthy of the attention he lauds onto you.

Your second thought, however, screams out. It shouts that he would never do that. Never would he hurt you on purpose. Never would he even lie to you like that. He's not like any of your exes, or past friends who drifted away when they couldn't lean against you while laughing about something stupid.

You brush your fingers lightly over his lips. His eyelids flutter slightly, soft breath exhaled from his nose, fanning against your knuckles. He's so beautiful. His lips are so soft and plush. His cupid's bow is so pronounced. The way his skin shifts under your fingers with the slightest pressure...

Your heart races. Your breath catches. You swallow nervously, forcing yourself not to look away from his eyes.

"Sy?"

"Hm?"

"Can... Can I kiss you?"

His eyes open just a bit wider, brows raising imperceptibly. He glances at your own lips. "You don't need to ask, sweetheart."

He waits for you to move, like always. Even if you backed out now, he wouldn't complain. He wouldn't even frown. He'd smile, say something sweet, and move on. That silent reassurance is the catalyst that convinces you to follow through.

You shift on the bed, leaning closer. You experimentally draw his lower lip down. They part with a slight smirk. But it's not condescending. It's excited.

So close, you can feel his breath against your face. His eyes are almost fully closed, heavily lidded as he watches your approach. At the lightest ghosting of your lips, he inhales sharply, waiting. Trying not to scare you away.

Finally, you kiss him.

It's so light at first. So delicate.

You kiss him again. He tastes like Gin Fizz and pomegranate. He tastes so sweet.

He sighs into your mouth, following the languid pace you've set. You trace your fingers along the underside of his jaw, from his chin up to his ear. You can feel the low sound of his enjoyment rumble against your fingertips.

And just like that, it becomes too much.

You don't want to pull away. You don't want to stop feeling his lips caressing over yours, sucking so gently on your lower lip to graze it with his teeth. It feels like heaven - tastes like heaven. You're loath to be without it so soon after you've just been introduced to how wonderful it can be.

But your body is screaming. It itches, stings, like poison ivy, tainting every inch of skin that's touched him. You try to draw it out, push through the aversion to have this one little moment with him, licking the seam of his lips, which he does not hesitate to part just for you.

Eventually, you just can't.

You pull away too abruptly, too quickly drawing your hand away from his soft skin and scooting back to your side of the bed. His eyes shoot open immediately, a crease forming between his brows in concern.

"I'm sorry," you sputter out. "I'm sorry- I didn't-"

"Calm down, sweetie. You don't need to apologize."

You grip at the smooth silk blanket, as though it will cool the fire rampaging down your fingers into your arms. You pull it up to your face to press it into your eyes, hiding your face as you fight your frustration. "I hate being like this, Sy! God, I can't even kiss my boyfriend for two seconds without wanting to rip my skin off!"

You want to cry. You want to scream! You want to run away, soak in a bath of boiling water, be sedated - anything! Anything that could take the feeling away and steal you from the embarrassment consuming you.

Your first kiss with Sylus - and it ends like this.

"Thank you."

You pull the blanket from your eyes to look at him. "What?"

He smiles. "Thank you," he repeats again, just as simply as the first time, like it makes all the sense in the world to be thanking you after you ripped yourself away from him.

"Why are you thanking me?"

"For suffering."

---

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[theghostkingisdead]

when he's really tired, danny sometimes slips up and starts talking in ghost speak. the only ones who can understand him when he gets like this are tucker, sam, and jazz (because they're Liminal). of course, none of them realize this until danny slips up in public

Tucker hated English. The whole language was a confusing, contradictory mess. Honestly, the world would be a much better place if everyone just stopped talking and writing and only communicated using Timerio, preferably with several screens between them.

The blank word document stared back at him, mockingly. The sounds of his classmates typing away at their own projects – typing, normally his favorite sound in the world, how dare the project turn it against him! – filled the room. The clock in the corner of his screen told him they had twenty more minutes left in class; twenty more minutes until lunch, where he could at least enlist Sam’s help.

He wished she shared this period with him and Danny, but she was taking AP Lit this year. Tucker glanced over at his other best friend. His best friend, who was staring off into space, not even bothering to pretend to be focusing on the assignment.

Glancing up to make sure Mr. Lancer wasn’t looking, he risked asking, “Hey Danny, what are the odds of a ghost attack happening in the next thirty-five seconds or so?”

Danny barely moved, but Tucker watched him squint, like he was trying to read something far off and blurry.

“Pretty unlikely. Unless we’re still counting blob ghosts as threats.”

Somewhere in the background, the sound of typing stopped.

Tucker hummed, “yeah, that’s about what I figured.” That was ghosts for you, never there when you needed them, never gone when you didn’t. “What if you, ya know,” Tucker raised his eyebrows repeatedly, staring intently at his best friend.

“no.”

“Aw, come on!”

Danny rolled his eyes, leaning back into his chair. “Dude, if I attacked the school just to get out of the last quarter of English, I’d never hear the end of it from Sam and Jazz.”

Tucker opened his mouth, about to present the very reasonable argument that what Sam and Jazz didn’t know wouldn’t hurt them, when he felt someone tap his shoulder. Turning around in his seat, he met the wide, terrified eyes of Star. She was glancing between Tucker and Danny, face pale.

“Um, I don’t mean to be rude, but uh…” Her voice trailed off, and in the pause Tucker was suddenly aware of how quiet the room had become.

Glancing around, he saw that everyone – including Lancer – was staring at him and Danny with varying levels of confusion and fear. Tucker considered himself to be pretty smart in most areas, maybe even a genius when it came to tech. But it didn’t take a genius to figure out that he’d missed something important.

Danny, the absolute dick, had slumped forward onto his desk. He was out cold. Dead to the world, and definitely not available for backup.

Kwan cleared his throat, and Tucker saw that his face was ashen.

“What are you two fucking talking about?”

[thoughtfulfiction]

Stolen Glances

Author’s note: reposting my old work on this side blog! Let me know if you’d like to read a specific one. Thank you for reading!

Warning: alcohol and drinking mentioned

Five days. That wasn’t even a full week. It should be relatively simple. You and your friends were going to spend a few days at the Fern Ridge Reservoir in a luxury home that Justin had rented out for the group. Everyone had their own rooms, the house was massive and you’d get to relax off the grid and recharge your batteries. There was relatively nothing to complain about.

“So…are you going to tell Justin you’re into him yet or just keep torturing yourself?” Your friend Bree asks, snapping you out of your daydream, carrying her bags to the car. The two of you had flown into Oregon from LA and were driving to the lake with Charlie and Tate, two of Justin’s friends that had really become like family to you in the last few years.

“She’s more likely to admit her feelings when she’s dead.” Tate scoffs while grabbing your backpack and shoving it in the trunk. “I want to have faith in you kid but, I just don’t know if you’ve got it in you right now.”

Charlie walks out of his house and hands you your water bottle, “you can tell him when you’re ready. Don’t listen to them, they're just impatient. Like five year olds who keep asking their mom to buy them McDonald’s on the way home.”

You simply nodded, staring daggers at your friends after Charlie came in and defended you. He hopped in the driver’s seat while Bree and Tate sat in the back. Looking out the window, you let your mind roam, both excited and nervous for what this little trip had in store.

It really wasn’t your fault, falling for him was like waking up on the couch with the tv on and not even remembering that you fell asleep. One day he was a good friend, a friend who you met years ago when he was a rookie living in a frat house in Costa Mesa. Then, somewhere along the way you fell for his unwavering kindness and his sense of humor. Or maybe it was the way the corner of his mouth tilts up sometimes in a side grin. Or his ability to always look like he just rolled out of bed but somehow still looked extremely put together. Everything about Justin, especially the little things, made you want him more. You just couldn’t bring yourself to tell him that. Admitting your feelings would just complicate things. And what if he didn’t even feel the same way? The thought of listening to him let you down easy while trying to spare you the embarrassment really just made you want to crawl into a hole on the side of the road and never come out.

So yes, long story short, these so-called “feelings?” You had no choice but to take them to the grave.

“Can we just have a nice relaxing weekend and enjoy ourselves? We can leave the drama and whatever else for when we get back to California, please.”

They simply nodded and you caught Tate and Bree sharing a look but you didn’t want to even think about what that could mean for you, instead deciding to focus on the scenery for another 20 minutes before the house came into view. Charlie started honking as soon as he pulled into the driveway and Gabe came running out, pulling you in for a hug.

“Hey neighbor.” He mutters out, giving you a squeeze.

“We haven’t lived next to each other in four years, Gabe.”

“Best year of my life honestly. I don’t think I’ve had more junk food…ever.”

Bree comes up behind the two of you and gets a hug of her own. “That’s because you and Nabers here kept suggesting pizza and ice cream nights. When y/n told me some NFL guys moved in next door I thought we’d be seeing more vegetables and less Oreos but it really was the best time.”

The guys unloaded all the bags from the car while you and Bree caught up with Gabe’s girlfriend Jordan. She informed you that Justin had gone out to get groceries with one of her good friends that she brought with her.

“Katie just thinks Justin is the sweetest thing ever so I figured why not introduce them. I’m tired of watching her drool over his old Instagram pictures. Hoping to play Cupid this weekend.” She jokes and you force out a small laugh, feeling your stomach turn at what this girl could possibly look like.

An hour later Bree rushes into your room and closes the door behind her after everyone has finally met and introduced themselves. “I know you said no drama but—”

“Nope, I don’t wanna hear it,” you interrupt her while you unpack your bag. “We are in a freaking mansion, on the water. Let’s focus on that!”

“Or…” she sits on the bed, completely interrupting your flow. “We could just acknowledge the fact that she took the room right next to Justin’s after knowing him for approximately two seconds. And she looks like the second coming of Candice Swanepoel. I mean, it’s kind of unfair,” she huffs.

You shake your head with a laugh. “She’s gorgeous, it’s pretty unreal. And definitely unfair. But we are going to focus on other things like having fun, enjoying the weather and spending quality time with our friends. Maybe have a couple strawberry margaritas with sugar on the rim. And we will be nice to Katie, even if she does look like an OG Victoria secret model before SavagexFenty kicked them to the curb. We will be welcoming and nice.”

She looks up at the ceiling like she can’t hear you and then back at you to face your pointed look, warning her to be on her best behavior. “Fine. I will be nice to Candice Jr.”

“Thank you.” You roll your eyes and pat her on the back.

Justin suggested riding jet skis which sounded amazing until Katie said she’d just finished touching up her makeup. Bree was about to make a snide comment but you elbowed her in the side before she could get the words out. Gabe and Jordan were taking a nap and Charlie was on the phone with one of the parents of the high school team he was coaching so you, Bree, Tate and Justin headed out after changing into your swimsuits.

Everyone found a life jacket that fit them just right and you hopped onto the back of Justin’s jet ski.

“Please promise me you won’t drive this thing like a grandma. I’m here for a good time, not a long time.” You joke, grabbing onto his waist. His laugh vibrates against you and you bite back a smile. He takes off and the two of you bounce against the water leaving you holding on for dear life. After a few minutes, you get used to it and it honestly feels freeing, just you and him out on the open water, taking a tour of the homes that are a little ways away until he stops at a man made cave, far away from any prying eyes.

“What are you doing?” You ask, feeling your heartbeat in your ears. Even in the shade, the reflection of the water hitting his eyes made you feel insane. And you couldn’t stop looking at him if you tried, not that you were trying very hard in the first place.

“Have you ever driven a jet ski before?” You shake your head no and he motions for you to switch spots with him. He leans over you to show you where the on switch is and how to work the speed and the brake, curving his hands over yours on the handles.

The smile that is threatening to take over your face is too much, so you settle for a joke. “You, Justin Herbert, giving up…control? This is a moment in history.”

“Just drive,” his cheeks heat up, turning a light shade of pink, “and try to get us back to the house in one piece, please.” You may or may not have driven as fast as you could with a few extra turns just to feel his body against yours for a little bit longer.

Although the afternoon was a victory, the evening brought you right back to reality. Katie had practically been glued to his side ever since you came back to the house. She sat next to him at dinner and practically jumped into the loveseat after he sat down for movie night. You resisted the urge to roll your eyes and walked into the kitchen to grab some kettle corn, taking your time in the kitchen before eventually making your way back to your seat. Luckily it was a movie you’d seen a dozen times so you weren’t missing anything. If anything, the movie in front of you was nothing compared to the horror film to your right, so Charlie cracked a joke to get you out of your head. Justin was so focused on watching his friend make you laugh that he didn’t even realize that Katie had fallen asleep on his shoulder, holding onto his arm like it was her personal body pillow. You caught a glimpse of the domestic scene that looked straight out of a romcom and it almost made you want to call it a night right then and there. But you sat through it and watched some random girl cozy up to the man you’d had serious feelings for…for the last year.

The next morning, you woke up later than usual. Truth was, you hadn’t gotten much sleep since you were thinking about Justin and Katie all night and you needed something else to focus on. You walked into the bathroom you were sharing with Bree to brush your teeth and get ready for the day.

When you swung the door open you froze, staring for a brief moment before covering your eyes. “Um—I’m so sorry I had no idea you were in here! Why, why are you in here? Doesn’t the master bedroom have a bathroom attached?”

Justin quickly covered up, grabbing his towel and wrapping it around his waist. “Bree liked the mirror in my bathroom so I let her use it. I thought the door was locked, how did you get in?”

“The lock is broken, Bree didn’t tell you that?”

He lets out a nervous laugh, “she may have neglected to mention that.” You were going to kill her.

“I’m gonna—I’m gonna go. So sorry again for the—you know what? I’m just gonna leave and we can act like this didn’t happen.” You close the door before he can utter a word and you head back to your room, silently praying that no one finds out about this.

He couldn’t take it anymore. You were avoiding him like the plague the entire day. Since the morning you’d hardly looked at him, even when he pulled you aside to assure you that your little encounter this morning, although awkward, was totally fine. He even sat through watching you and Charlie go tubing together and share a pizza at lunch, but his final straw was when he saw you taking a nap together in Charlie’s bed with the tv playing. The two of you had always been close but the quarterback couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that something more was going on and he didn’t like it. This trip was supposed to be about him getting to spend some quality time with you before training camp and Charlie knew that. Nothing was going according to plan and Justin knew he had to do something about it.

He rushed to get ready for dinner and let out a sigh of relief when he found you in the kitchen. “I know it’s none of my business but, is there something going on with you and Charlie?”

You took a big breath, not exactly ready to have this conversation and yet here you were. “No,” you state blankly, “there’s nothing going on between Charlie and I.”

“Then what’s going on? You’ve barely said two words to me all day so there has to be a problem.” Justin knew he had no right to be jealous, especially of one of his best friends but something was just nagging at him to keep asking questions. It was like word vomit and he couldn’t stop.

“Why are we even talking about this right now? It’s really not a big deal Justin, seriously, just let it go please.”

He clearly wasn’t having your attempts to dodge him. “No! I'm not going to let it go until you tell me. I mean, if this is about this morning I thought we handled that.” You don’t miss the subtle clench in his jaw. His patience is quickly running out and you really don’t get why this has him so worked up. Possibly because you’re so focused on your own rollercoaster of emotions.

“It’s not about this morning!” You blurt out. He was backing you into a corner, literally.

His pleading eyes were begging you to talk to him. “Then what is it about?”

“You! It’s about you. How I feel about you is a problem. It is THE problem, okay?” You shake your head, mentally shutting down at the look on his face. There it was, that horrible look you wished you’d never see…pity. Honestly? It looked worse in real life than it ever had in your nightmares and the sigh he gave you afterwards was just the icing on the humiliation cake.

“Y/n, I—”

“Are you guys ready to head out for dinner?” Gabe pops his head in, catching an immediate whiff of the uncomfortable air in the room. “Uh sorry. Was I interrupting something?”

“No.” You fold your arms across your chest, creating a physical and emotional barrier between the two of you.

“Yes,” Justin says at the same time, furrowing his eyebrows and giving you a sideways glance, his gaze softening at your watery eyes.

“You didn’t interrupt anything,” you huff out with a sniff, after a quick swipe under your eye you step around the man who was whispering for you to wait. You ignored him and kept moving your way out of the house, sliding into the car without turning back. Charlie took one look at you and asked if everything was okay but you really weren’t sure how to answer. How you were really feeling would surely bring you to tears and you really didn’t feel like crying in a car full of people.

That evening, your phone lit up as you sat motionless in your bed, contemplating going home the next morning. Of course it was a text from Justin.

I know you’re awake, I can’t sleep either. Can we please talk?

You texted him back a simple “fine” and there were two tiny knocks on your door less than a minute later. He was probably standing outside your room door when he texted.

“We didn’t get to finish our conversation earlier.” His voice is even deeper due to the exhaustion. You didn’t even think that was possible.

“I said everything I needed to,” you say with a casual shrug.

“Well good because I need you to listen,” Justin closes the door behind him and takes in a breath. “You’re one of my best friends…”

“Oh god please. You don’t have to let me down gently. I’m a big girl I can—”

“I’m not done. And I’m not—I’m not letting you down gently. I’m not letting you down at all. You have been one of the most consistently good things in my life and somewhere along the way you became a lot more than consistency. You’ve become somewhat of a necessity, an essential part of my life that I don’t think I can or want to live without.” He sighs, running a hand over his face with a sigh and you just stand there, limbs shaking in anticipation, waiting for him to get to his main point.

Justin closes his eyes, visibly collecting himself and his thoughts. “What I’m trying to say is that you aren’t the only one with feelings here. And that your feelings? They aren’t a problem.”

“You—you mean that you share the…you like me too?” You laugh a little, in complete disbelief.

He steps toward you, nodding with a smile of his own. “I really like you.”

“Wait…but what about Cand—Katie? She’s gorgeous, fun and is super into you. Plus she looks borderline perfect in the morning from what I gathered. I’m pretty sure I drool in my sleep sometimes and I have eye boogers.”

That really sends him over the edge and he covers his mouth to stifle a laugh. “It’s a good thing I love eye boogers, they’re my favorite.”

You smack his chest at the playful joke and his energy pulls you in, pressing your bodies together like magnets. And right there you feel like a kid again, standing next to your crush with your heart racing. He leans down and his lips brush against yours and he asks if this is okay, causing you to nod because obviously you want this with him, and more. Your lips fit together seamlessly and he tilts your head up by lightly cupping your face, running his thumb across the length of your jaw while deepening the kiss. Your entire body is covered in goosebumps even though the kiss is so soft and gentle. He pulls away slightly, pecking your lips after he takes a second as to not rush into things too quickly, waiting too long to ruin the moment. Pure bliss coats all of his senses as he begins peppering your face with more feathery kisses, silently willing himself to always remember the softness of your skin and how amazing it feels to finally be this close.

“You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to do that,” the grin he’s sporting is taking over his entire being and before you can respond he’s kissing you again. You happily oblige, smiling against his lips with a satisfied hum.

The next morning you were pretty sure you were still smiling. You woke up feeling super comfortable, turning around to catch a glimpse of him, thinking about pinching yourself to make sure this was real. He looks so peaceful, his clothed chest moving up and down rhythmically, a slight pout on his face. You can’t help but run your fingers through his hair, smiling to yourself once again when he begins to stir in his sleep. With his eyes still closed, he pulls you into his arms, lazily kissing you like he’s been doing this for years.

“Good morning,” he whispers, his eyes finally open, looking alert and bright.

“Good morning, I cannot believe you practically tackled me first thing in the morning. I probably have morning breath.”

“You don’t and even if you did, I wouldn’t care. And you don’t have eye boogers or drool on your face, you look really good first thing in the morning. The most incredible sight to wake up to.” You want to kiss him again but you decide it’s best to hold off, leaning over to check the time on his phone. “It’s 5am, you should probably head back to your room before everyone wakes up and this turns into a CIA interrogation.”

He chuckles, kissing your forehead before he gets up to stretch out his limbs. “We have all the time in the world to figure this out when we get back to LA, keeping this between us is probably our best bet for now. I do not want to hear all of Tate’s questions. And Gabe would be even worse, he’s been telling me to do this for years.”

You tilt your head towards him and whisper yell, “you’ve thought about this for years and didn’t say anything?”

“Yeah, you’re not the only one who was helplessly pining over someone and refused to say anything about their feelings out of fear of rejection. I was scared too. And now I’m not. Now, I’m going to head back to my bed and count down the minutes until I get to kiss you again.”

You shake your head, laying back down ready for your second round of sleep. “You’re a dork.”

“I am. And that is your favorite thing about me. Get some sleep, I’ll see you in a few hours.”

Waking up again around 8:30, you realize that skipping out on dinner last night has come back to haunt you. Gingerly walking down the stairs as to not wake anyone up, you tip toe into the kitchen quietly, only to find Katie already up and pouring a glass of orange juice.

“Good morning,” she sings, looking bright and cheery. Maybe in another life she was Giselle from Enchanted because she could definitely be some sort of Disney princess. “I’m so glad you’re awake because I need some advice. Do you think Justin would want pancakes or waffles? I wanna surprise him with this breakfast tray and I just want everything to look right you know? So what do you think?”

I think his tongue was practically down my throat last night and he’d probably want to have me for breakfast but I can’t say any of that. “Um let’s see. Definitely pancakes and skip out on the orange juice cause he’ll probably want some coffee.” As painful as it is to help her, you know this small sacrifice will pay off. You’ve basically already got the guy, there’s no use in rubbing it in the poor girl’s face when you won’t be seeing her anymore two days from now.

Katie nods excitedly, prepping her pancake batter and thanking you several times. You settle for a bagel with cream cheese and head back upstairs to get ready for the day. The afternoon isn’t very eventful, you realize that the guys had already left for a fishing expedition earlier in the morning so Katie’s breakfast was cold by the time Justin got back. He looked at you hesitantly, waiting for you to nod your head before he thanked her and tossed the food in the microwave. Jordan suggested the group go out to a bar/club that night since you and Bree had been mentioning these famous strawberry margaritas since the day you arrived.

The music was loud as soon as you walked in. Gabe ordered the first round of drinks and you snuck out of the booth to reapply some mascara while the other girls browsed the marg menu. A knock on the door startles you into dropping your makeup in the sink.

“Occupied!” You yell out.

“It’s me.” Smiling to yourself at the familiar voice, you lock the door behind you when Justin walks in.

“Hi.”

Your face is in his hands with the mascara long forgotten as he softly says “c’mere,” leaning down to capture your lips with your back still against the door. He tastes like the shot of Don Julio you all just took and a little bit of mint. Your hand is in his hair again, pulling it ever so slightly so you are still as close to him as humanly possible without standing on your toes. Justin knows you both have to be back soon before anyone notices but the thought of your body not being practically glued to his makes him really want to go home. The kiss today is sloppier than last night, there’s more urgency, more fire. Neither of you thought it could get better but your hands are all over each other, your arms struggling to wrap itself around his bicep and at some point he had a handful of your ass. Not that you were complaining.

The kiss leaves you breathless, letting out a soft laugh as you pat him on the chest. “We should stop. I don’t want to but, we have to unfortunately.”

His lips curl into a small frown, almost a pout and you are seconds away from kissing him again. “I know. You should go first and I’ll be right out. Definitely need to splash some cold water on my face or something, I need a minute.”

Nodding your head in understanding, you step out to give him some space, but not before he grabs your hand and kisses the inside of your wrist.

An hour later you’re two margs and two shots in. Katie has been hanging all over Justin as soon as he got back from the bathroom and it’s taking everything in you to prevent yourself from yelling at her to get her hands off of him. And bless his heart he really is trying to keep his distance, catching your eye with an apologetic look every time she finds her way next to him again but it’s really getting exhausting.

“We should go dance!” Bree exclaims, snapping you out of your jealous rage. You nod immediately, desperate to look at anything other than what is happening at your table.

🎶H-O-T-T-O-G-O

Snap and clap and touch your toes

Raise your hands, now body roll

Dance it out, you're hot to go

H-O-T-T-O-G-O

Snap and clap and touch your toes

Raise your hands, now body roll

H-O-T-T-O-G-O🎶

You found yourself singing your heart out with not only Bree but some guys that also knew every word to the song. Getting lost in the moment and also not being remotely close to being sober you danced, letting him grab your hand and spin you around as Chappell Roan continued to play.

“I’m Matt,” the stranger tells you when the song is finished.

You hold your hand out, “y/n. You’re not a bad duet partner Matt.”

“You’re not so bad yourself,” he laughs, still holding onto you.

An awkward silences washes over the moment when you begin to sober up a bit and pull your hand back. “I need to grab some water, excuse me.”

“Hello! Earth to y/n! That guy was cute and totally into you. What the hell is your problem?” Bree lectures you as you sit at the bar.

He’s cute but he’s not Justin, you think to yourself. “I just needed a drink that was a lot of dancing and it’s hot out there.”

Your excuse is pointless because you feel a presence behind you. “Can I get three waters please?”

Bree looks at Matt, thanking him and grabbing her water bottle to give you some privacy. He settles in the bar stool next to you and slides the water in your direction. “Are you from here? Because I’d remember a face like that walking around.”

The sentiment would usually make you feel good but now you just wished a certain someone was giving you flirty compliments. “I’m only here for a few more days unfortunately. Then it’s back to real life.”

“Well maybe I could convince you to come back? Make this some sort of regular thing? Us seeing each other?”

Back at the table, Justin was staring daggers at the bar area. As soon as Bree sat down without you, Tate asked where you were.

“Attagirl.” The football player heard his friend say and he moved around in his seat to get release the building tension in his shoulders. Katie was next to him saying something but all he could focus on was how close this guy was sitting next to you. Did the chairs really need to be that close?

“Bro, Justin.“ Charlie snaps in his face.

“What?” His tone was a bit more aggressive and irate than he intended but he couldn’t help it.

“If you hold that bottle any tighter you’re gonna shatter the glass man.”

He hadn’t even noticed he was treating the Nectarine Premiere bottle like it was a stress ball. The man slid it away from him on the table, turning his gaze back to the bar. You were laughing at something the guy was saying and the way the guy was looking at you was eating him alive.

Katie placed her hand on his thigh and kept going with her story that she’d been telling. Justin couldn’t take it anymore.

He plucked her hand off of him and got up when he saw you and the guy heading outside. “Excuse me.” The group watched him take several long strides until he was out the door.

Matt looks up with his mouth open as soon as Justin comes into view. “Dude, you’re Justin Herbert! I’m a huge fan man I bought your jersey last year. Wear it every Sunday.”

“It’s uh—it’s nice to meet you…”

“Oh it’s Matt.”

“Matt,” he says slowly trying to get rid of the bitterness in his voice but it doesn’t go unnoticed by you. Matt is too busy being a fanboy to see that anything is wrong. They take a selfie and Justin sends him on his way, the fan now too excited to have remembered he was trying to get your number.

Justin blows out a breath, staring at you until he hears you laugh. “This isn’t funny,” he groans.

“On the contrary, it’s hilarious. I’ve had to deal with it for the last three days. You didn’t even last an hour before running over here and putting a stop to it.”

“I didn’t run,” he counters, “I walked—very quickly. Not my fault I have long legs.”

You take a sip of your water. “Sure. Now how are you going to get yourself out of this? We said we weren’t going to tell them until we talked about what this is.”

“We did say that but I know what this is. I want to be with you. I want to kiss you, hold your hand, dance with you. I want…I want us to be together. That was the whole point of this trip.”

Furrowing your eyebrows, you urge him to explain. “I told Charlie I was ready. Planned this entire getaway to have one last trip before camp but I also didn’t want to leave again without telling you how I feel. What better place to tell someone you love them than at the lake?”

“You love me?”

He grabs your hand, feeling a sudden need for you to anchor him to the ground. “I love everything about you. I’m just sorry it took me this long to tell you the truth.”

“Better late than never. I love you too, a lot.”

He smiles again, a weight lifted off of him that he’d been carrying for quite some time. Justin is so happy that he doesn’t think he’s capable of words right now.

“Come here,” you tell him and he immediately closes any distance between you.

You give him a slow kiss, knowing you have all the time in the world to get to be with him.

Until a knock on the window startles you apart.

“I FREAKING KNEW IT!” Bree yells.

“Finally.” Charlie says shaking his head.

Justin rests his forehead against yours, too far gone to even care about PDA. He’d deal with the consequences later. “Do we have to go back in there and answer all their questions?”

“I think I’m gonna need one more kiss before we go,” you whisper.

Your brand new boyfriend nods in excitement, leaning in immediately. “Yes ma’am.”

[casuallyimagining]

refuge | xmh

xu minghao x reader

"they're so loud." genre: fluff | wc: 592 | warnings: none

For the briefest of moments, the sound of laughter and old friends reminiscing bubbles up and punctures your quiet little hideaway outside. It’s a little chilly–autumn finally has the early October nights in its clutches–but you managed to turn on the small fire table before settling into a corner of the wicker sofa with your book. The noise dies down with the sound of the patio door sliding shut, and it takes only a moment more for the cause to appear.

Minghao leans down, presses a kiss into your hair, and hums at the warmth that the fire table gives off. “You’re quite cozy out here,” he notes, settling down into the space beside you. “I brought you some tea.”

You take the offered cup gratefully, setting your book down spine-up in your lap. “You lasted far longer in there than I expected.”

“They’re so loud,” he whines, a pained look crossing his face. 

“You love them.”

Just then, as if to punctuate his point, you can hear shouting from inside. Vaguely, you can make out Seungkwan’s voice. Hao looks at you flatly, as if to say ‘see?’

You bat at his chest playfully and you both laugh. It fades to quiet after a moment, and the silence of the night envelops you again. You pick your book back up and lean forward to set your mug on the edge of the fire table before cozying back into the sofa. Hao moves over, almost imperceptibly, but you can feel his body pressing into your side, and you wrap an arm around his shoulders to draw him closer.

Beside you, you can feel Minghao relax, his breathing evening out as he drifts into his thoughts. You let your focus fall back into your book, and for a while, you sit there together, completely at peace.

“We should get one of these for the balcony.” Hao’s voice is soft, and when you look up, he’s staring into the fire.

“Add it to the list.”

And he smiles. A soft, shy little thing that he tries to hide behind his cup of tea. The two of you have been half-joking about moving in together for months. It’s not the right time for either of you–he’s busy and your lease is nowhere near up–but the promise of more keeps you going.

The noise bubbles up again as the door opens, and Soonyoung’s voice punches out into the night. “Minghao! Come back inside and play with us! Vernon went to sleep and we need even teams.”

Hao shoots you a pointed look. “Loud,” he repeats, just loud enough for you to hear. 

You giggle. “Go in and spend time with your friends.” You kiss him quickly, his soft lips moulding against yours for the briefest of moments. “I’ll be in soon. I just want to finish this chapter.”

“Minghao!” Soonyoung yells again, and even without looking at him, you can tell he’s taken a step outside toward the two of you.

Hao rolls his eyes and kisses you quickly before standing. He takes his teacup with him. “I will give you 5 million won to forget my name,” he tells Soonyoung, and the older man giggles like a deranged toddler. 

The ghost of a smile graces your lips as you watch your partner disappear into the house. The night once again goes silent. You know he’s not always up for the raucous energy of his 12 chaotic brothers, but you’re always happy to be here when it gets too much. You’ll never tire of being his refuge.

minghao has really dug himself into the soft spot in my heart recently. I love him a whole lot, and I need more minghao content in my life. if you've got any recs, send them my way, but in the meantime, let me know what you thought of this, maybe?

[aurumalatus]

kinich and 7 first kiss please??

the question had set off a ripple through the party. it was one of the first parties you'd ever gone to, shy as you were, and in the middle of a game of truth or dare, one of the seniors asked you who your first kiss was.

a nervous smile plastered itself on your face. "oh, i actually...haven't had one yet."

to say everyone was shocked would be an understatement—there were gasps and 'what?!'s and stares of judgment and pity. you'd never thought of it as a bad thing before this moment. you wanted to share the moment with someone you actually liked, and it wasn't something you were ashamed of.

at least, until people started to laugh.

your cheeks grew warm with shame as you stared down at your lap. maybe you shouldn't have come here. you'd come to put yourself out there, but now, you felt like that was a mistake.

"yo, kinich! did you hear? this girl hasn't had her first kiss yet!"

tears sting the corners of your eyes at the sound. you've had a secret crush on kinich for a long time, ever since he tutored you in chemistry, and you were hoping to talk to him a bit more at this party.

one of the guys claps kinich on the back, laughing and nearly stumbling over himself in amusement. kinich doesn't react, merely arching a brow as he meets your eyes.

"so what? leave her alone. you guys are insufferable."

your heart flutters, while everyone else's seems to drop. kinich is one of the more mysterious guys at your school, but everyone seems to hold him in high regard—he's popular without even really trying.

"y-yeah!" one of the girls cuts in, despite her earlier giggles. "you guys are being mean..."

kinich rolls his eyes, grabbing your hand and pulling you outside and away from the crowd. the front yard is mostly empty, save for the empty beer cans and solo cups that dot the grass.

he sighs. "i'm sorry about them. they're too nosy for their own good."

you twiddle your thumbs. "it's okay," you try for a laugh, "i know it's kind of pathetic."

his hand drops to your shoulder, an action that shocks you—you look up into his eyes.

"it's not pathetic," he says, suddenly serious. you force a hesitant nod. then, he continues, "if it helps, i haven't had mine either."

that shocks you. kinich has practically all the girls fawning over him at all times, it seems impossible that none of them would've shared a kiss with him by now.

"really?" you squeak. you instinctually glance at his lips, then internally scold yourself for doing so.

he shrugs. "just been waiting for someone i really like."

you lean back against the wall, suddenly tired.

"me too," you murmur.

it's then that kinich looks to you, one arm braced against the wall above your head. the proximity makes you shrink back in embarrassment. he smiles, soft.

"so, would it be okay if i told you i really like you?"

[thewulf]

A Little Jealous || Jake "Hangman" Seresin

Summary: Request - I was hoping if I could get one with Jake Seresin x reader where they're very close to each other and flirt with each other all day and makes everyone sick with their shenanigans but they secretly pine for each other... Read Rest Here

A/N: Good old miscommunication trope :) I love writing Jake. Keep on sending these amazing requests in and lmk what you think below! TY for the request @stuffingbuttsandshit

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Y/N

Word Count: 3.3k +

“You’re being dumb, and you know it.” Natasha rolled her eyes before turning back to the traffic light the two of you were stopped at, heading towards the Hard Deck. Your usual Friday night hangout spot after yet another grueling training session with Maverick. He was kicking all of your sorry asses right into shape.

Leaning back into the seat you refused to look at her instead keeping your eyes trained out the window, “He doesn’t like me like that. He’s not a relationship guy Nat. He’s said it a hundred damn times. Why would I be any different?” Sighing in frustration Nat noticed you toying with the hem of your shirt, a nervous habit she picked up on after only you for a short while.

“Because you’re you? He told me yesterday how much he likes you.” She sighed in annoyance as she kept her eyes on the road even though she wanted to slap some sense into you. She often had to restrain herself from quite literally beating you up sometimes.

“As a friend! He likes me as a friend you doofus.” You added on knowing he couldn’t possibly return the feelings you had for him.

She scoffed while very visibly rolling her eyes at you, “Can’t believe you called me a doofus you dork.” She sighed before letting you continue the conversation, “Listen, all the two of you do is flirt. He’s constantly staring at you when you aren’t eye fucking him right on back. I haven’t seen two people get along so easily before in this line of work. Might as well embrace what you have while you have a chance.”

“Whatever. I’ll talk to him tonight.” You didn’t want to admit defeat, but you were growing rather tired of going back and forth with her on it. If there was one thing she was it was adamant, and this was the only way to get her to be quiet about it.

Her eyes lit up almost as if she couldn’t believe what she was hearing from your mouth, “Really?”

“Yeah, yeah. If it comes up naturally I will.” You nodded your head thankful she was pulling into the bar already. There was a reason everybody from base went here after work, it was close. And you couldn’t be more thankful to be out of the car away from her prying eyes.

She shut the car off turning back to you, “Good enough for me. Now go in there and get your man.” She smirked knowing it’d set you off. She was right of course.

“Not my man.” You grumbled before happily hopping out of her car that was suffocating with her pressing you on the topic of Lieutenant Jake Seresin.

Of course, you’d love to take the next step with him. You practically threw yourself at the guy every time you hung out with him. But he never seemed to take your advances for what they were. Maybe you weren’t forward enough? Or maybe he just wasn’t a relationship kind of guy. You shuddered at that thought. He’d eventually be a relationship kind of guy. When he wanted to be. Why couldn’t it be with you?

When you walked through the front door and over to your usual spot you didn’t spot him right away. Instead, you spotted Bob and Rooster in the corner chatting away about something intently. Sitting down next to them you waited for their conversation to conclude before interrupting them.

“Hey Y/N.” Bob acknowledged you after a minute. You didn’t mind. Your eyes were busy scanning for Jake. Much to your annoyance you didn’t see him. Was he not here yet? That’d be off, he always beat you to the bar. Always saved a seat for you.

“Hey guys.” You nodded at the both of them with distraction written all over your face.

Rooster smiled over at you knowing exactly who you were looking for, “He’s on the other side of the bar with a friend.”

“Who is?” You couldn’t hide the blush that appeared out of thin air just at the thought of Jake. Were you really that easy to read?

“Hangman.” Rooster leaned forward challenging you, “The guy you’ve been looking for since you walked in.” Bob couldn’t help the small laugh that came from his friends joke.

“I have not.” Your eyes looked everywhere but his.

Bradley laughed, “Sure. Go on then. Go get a drink or something. Definitely don’t go looking for Jake or anything.”

You stook quickly, gracious of his out, “Am I that bad of company?” You mocked offence.

“Hardly.” He smiled shaking his head at your usual antics. Rooster had come to like you quite a bit. You were sharp as a tack, deadly in the air and kinder than they usually came. He’d be a fool not to befriend you. An asset he knew he’d need in the future, “It’s our company I fear that is not nearly riveting enough for you.”

You giggled shaking your head at him, “You’re something else Roos.” Before he could reply you walked over to the bar ordering a drink but also looking for the man who’d taken your heart so effortlessly.

When your eyes scanned the other side of the bar your heart nearly stopped when you finally spotted the guy you’d been looking for. He was sitting there talking, no laughing, with a beautiful blonde woman. Your mouth ran dry as your heart rate picked up at a rapid pace. She was absolutely breathtaking. Far, far more beautiful than you could ever hope to even come close to. If he was chatting her up so easily then how in the hell did you ever think you stood chance with man? Nat was right. You were just you.

You’d let Nat’s words get to your head and get yourself into thinking he’d actually want you. How could you have been so damn stupid? Your eyes watched them carefully as they both seemed overjoyed to be in such an intense conversation going on.

It was Penny who knocked you out of the longing stare that had your thoughts consumed so entirely, “Drink?” She asked.

“Uh, actually I’m alright. Thanks Pen.” You waved her off not wanting to get stuck here longer than you wanted.

She gave you a confused looked before turning away back to her paying customers. You walked out in a half daze thinking about the pretty blonde woman who had captured Jake’s attention whole so easily. You’d managed to avoid everybody on your way out including your ever so nosy friend. You decided to walk home, it was only about a half mile back to your apartment. You’d done it a hundred times before. You were just usually a little drunk and not so heartbroken.

In your mind it was best to simply turn your phone to silent and flip it over while you watched reruns of your favorite shows once you got home. You’d decided it was best to throw yourself a little mini pity party mourning a relationship that’d never be. So that’s exactly what you did. Ignored your phone and watched television. That was your first mistake. Your second was ignoring the knocks on the door. Instead, you turned the TV up just a little louder pretending you couldn’t hear it. Once the heavy banging on the door commenced you knew you could no longer ignore it.

You flung the door open in irritation not knowing who exactly it was but assuming it was Nat, “Would you quiet down? You’re going to get me in trouble…” The words stopped dead in your mouth as you observed Jake on the other side of the door and not Nat. Jake. Shit.

“You didn’t answer my texts.” He frowned giving you a once over scan that you would’ve missed if your eyes weren’t so trained on his. He was checking to make sure you were physically fine. You knew that.

“I turned my phone on silent. Wanted a night to myself.” You answered him before continuing with your own question, “What are you doing here?”

“Or my calls. You ignored my calls.” His frown deepened as he scanned your apartment behind you now. What was he looking for?

You sighed now, getting a little frustrated with his seemingly impromptu visit, “I told you. My phone is on silent in another room.”

That snapped him out of whatever he was doing. You usually didn’t have such a hostile tone with him. Everything with you was usually so gentle. The hostility was left for the skies, “Why? Why weren’t you at the Hard Deck tonight? Nat said you came in with her?” He looked so confused, almost hurt?

You nodded, “I did. I just felt, unwell.” It wasn’t an outright lie. Seeing Jake with that beautiful blonde woman made you more nauseous than you’d like to admit.

“Oh okay.” He frowned giving you another once over, “Are you alright?” He took a step to the side looking almost bashful. Not as confident as he normally came off. It was odd to see him so out of sorts. What was the reason? Surely it couldn’t have been you.

You took a moment to contemplate his question. You were fine, certainly. Just a little devastated for something that would never occur. A future you yearned for that would never begin. But you were fine.

“I’m alright. Why are you here Jake?” You asked once more not stepping away from the front door. Not letting him in but not shooing him away either. You’d usually let him waltz through without a worry, but something was stopping you.

“To check in. I got worried when you wouldn’t answer. You always do.” He answered without a beat. He didn’t look l

“Oh.” You nodded at him. That was kind. That was very much like him, “Sorry to make you stop by.”

He shook his head, “It’s alright.” He kept looking you over. You were playing with the hem of your shirt again. Things were awkward. Uncomfortable. You were nervous and he wasn’t saying what he wanted. Unsure of what to say you just looked down. Not ending the conversation but not making it move forward either.

“Well, goodnight.” You said after a few moments of painful silence. There wasn’t usually this much tension between the two of you. It felt wrong. There was never usually such an air of awkwardness such as there was now.

“No, wait.” He put his hand on the doorframe so you couldn’t shut the door. Not that you were planning to shut it in his face, “Is everything alright Y/N? I don’t… I don’t know what happened or what I did.” He paused giving you a genuine look of confusion and concern. A look you weren’t terribly familiar with from the man.

He was right. How would he know? You were being weird and secretive. And now that you knew he was probably dating that girl you couldn’t air out your love to him. That’d just ruin the friendship you’d grown to love with him.

So instead, you had to deflect a bit, “I didn’t want to interrupt you.”

He turned his head in confusion at that, “Pardon?”

“Uh,” Might as well spit out some of the truth, “Tonight. Was going to tell you I was heading home but then I saw you talking to the woman. She was pretty.” You added the last sentence in almost silence hoping he couldn’t detect the jealousy radiating from your body. It wasn’t easy to hide, no.

He crinkled his eyes together, “Who?”

Was he playing dumb? Could the interaction have been so minute that he didn’t even recognize just how gorgeous the woman was? You bit the inside of your mouth to hide your dissatisfied frown, “The blonde woman you were talking to in the booth?”

He cocked his head to the side. First a wave of confusion crossed his face then recognition of the interaction must’ve crossed as his once confused face turned to realization, “You mean Amy?” His smile turned to a knowing smirk once he put two and two together. Jake was anything but dumb. In fact, he was quite intelligent. It hit him as to why your mood would have turned so sour towards him so quickly.

“Amy?” You asked playing right into his hand. He had you now and you didn’t even know it.

He nodded leaning onto the side of the apartment building, “Yup. She was my commanding officer back in Virginia. We were catching up for a moment.” He nodded his head watching you as he reveled in your realization of who he chatting with. He also knew how pretty she was. Jake had thought so since the moment he had laid eyes on her all those years ago. There was a slight problem though, she wasn’t exactly into men. And she wasn’t afraid to let those around her know it. Apparently, you hadn’t picked up on it though. And Jake decided he’d tease you about it for a bit.

“Oh.” You said again as you took a step back while crossing your arms over your chest. It wasn’t exactly an invitation inside the apartment, but it wasn’t not either. Jakes eyebrows quirked up quickly as he realized he was getting somewhere with you. It was cute. You were jealous. You’d been so good at hiding any emotion he wasn’t sure if you actually liked him back. Nat had assured him that you did, and you were just afraid at showing it. Afraid of the consequences once you dove headfirst in. But this was a sign, albeit a small one.

He bobbed his head up and down while taking a small step forward, “Oh indeed.” He gave you a wry smile as his eyes traced over your face, “She was just telling me about how she and her wife were looking at adopting once they get settled out here.”

Your eyes rose in recognition of what he had told you, “Her wife?”

He took another small step forward, shrinking the already small space between the two of you, “Of three years. I was invited to the wedding. It was nice.” He grinned knowing he had you now. Your little outburst and show looked a little silly. He knew you felt embarrassed because he knew you. He adored you. He had begun to love you.

You looked down letting a small sigh of defeat out. You did feel embarrassed. Mortified actually. This is why you didn’t jump to conclusions. This right here. You stepped away from the door officially inviting him inside. He’d done nothing wrong. And even if he was flirting with a pretty blonde girl he would’ve done nothing wrong. You didn’t have any claim over him. Crap. You’d just made an unknowing mess of everything.

Jake didn’t hesitate at your invitation in. A sort of nonverbal apology he happily accepted. He sat down on the couch opposite of you giving you a smile, “You don’t look sick.” He said to you.

“I feel better.” You gave him a quick nod knowing your cheeks were beginning to flush right in front of him.

“Did your illness have anything to do with Amy?” He pressed deciding he wanted to cross the invisible line between the two of you tonight. Your acting out showed him just how much you actually did like him.

“No!” You were quick to answer, far too quick.

His little grin grew into that signature Jake smirk. The one that was often reflected at you in a much different light. Not like this. Not like he’d caught you doing something because he actually did.

“You sure about that?” He leaned so far froward you were sure he was trying to touch you now. Egg you on. Press your buttons. Cross the line. Maybe Nat wasn’t wrong? Maybe he did have feelings?

With wide eyes you shook your head, “No.”

He scooted over on the couch, so he was sitting next to you now. He reached out, placing a hand on your knee, “You seem… a little jealous?”

Your eyes were staring right at his hand that seemed to engulf your knee. You tried to answer him, really. But when you opened your mouth not a sound would come out. You shut your mouth in an instant before turning to him knowing he was right. You were a little jealous. But did you really have to admit it to him?

He leaned a bit closer to you, running his hand just a touch up your leg, before whispering in your ear, “For what it’s worth, I think it’s adorable that you’re a little jealous.”

Thankful for him giving you a little relief you finally found your words again, “You do?”

The smirk turned down into a soft smile as he saw the lack of confidence in your face. Had he not done enough to assure you of how he really felt? He’d thought he made it pretty obvious.

“I do. I think it’s really cute. Wanna know another little secret I’ve been keeping from you?” He asked you.

Your heart rate involuntarily picked up at that, “Yes.” It sounded more of a whisper than anything else. But you couldn’t quite help it. You were nervous. He made you terribly nervous.

“I think you’re the prettiest woman I’ve ever got to know.” He smiled watching your reaction. It was nice seeing you so expressive with him. You’d always been so cautious and reserved with him. Collected and calculated. But you no longer had to be. Not when he’d been so outright with it now.

“Now, I know you’re joking.” You laughed not so sure of his admission to you. But his face said otherwise.

“Have I lied to you before?” He asked knowing the answer was an easy no.

You shook your head in response, “No.”

He smiled softly moving his hand from your leg to your hand, “Why would I start now then?”

You gulped at the seriousness in his tone and through his expression. He wasn’t lying. He was out here admitting his feelings towards you. Damn. Nat was right. More than right. You were a fucking idiot.

Before you could stop the words that came out of your mouth you finally admitted to him how you’d been feeling, “I like you.”

He smile before capturing your face in his free hand, “A little jealousy always helps.” Brushing your lip with his thumb he studied your face intently, “I like you too. I like you more than you can even imagine.”

A breath of relief washed out of you as the words you’d been dying to hear left his lips, “That’s good to hear.”

He started laughing. A good old hearty laugh that filled you with your own sense of joy and giggles, “Let me take you out on a real proper date darlin’?” He asked once the shared laughter between the two of you had died down.

You nodded quickly, breathlessly as you took in his lovestruck gaze, “I’d like that.”

His other hand joined him as he cupped your face in his embrace. You were truly vulnerable as hell to him, a position you’d tried to avoid from the get-go. But you couldn’t help it. You were falling for him, fast.

“You have no idea how bad I want to kiss you right now pretty girl.”

You leaned towards him without a second thought, “Then do it.”

He thought for a second before shaking his head, “Can’t kiss you without taking you out first darlin’.”

You bit your lip knowing it’d drive him past his breaking point, “Please? You don’t have to be a gentleman tonight.”

He groaned, tightening his embrace on your face as carefully as he could, “How can I say no when you ask like that?”

Jake Seresin/Top Gun: Permanent Taglist (Message me or comment below if you want to be added!): @loving-and-dreaming @kmc1989 @memeorydotcom @matisse556 @buckylov3r @taygrls @ah-blossom @hardballoonlove @rosiahills22 @djs8891 @mamachasesmayhem

[berryispunk]

Cracks in the Wall

Chapter 4 of "Rain Down on Me" for the April Showers challenge by @jolapeno

series masterlist

pairing: Frankie Morales x ofc! reader (Summer)

tags: enemies to ???, banter, they're both disasters, Frankie being an idiot, heartbreak, feelings denial, i hate(love) them, it's getting worse before it gets better

notes: prompts I used for this one were: Sixteen-A lost bet with high stakes

word count: ~ 1,5k

You shouldn’t be here.

Not perched on a fire escape two floors up, legs dangling into the warm city night, a drink sweating in your hand, and Frankie Morales sitting far too close beside you.

You’d sworn—after that argument in the rain, after the sting of his words sank beneath your skin and sat there like a bruise—you’d keep your distance. You walked away that night soaked and shaking, your heart heavy with all the things you didn’t say.

The look on his face still lingers in your memory—raw and masked all at once. That stupid flicker of hurt he buried so fast.

You didn’t say everything either. It shouldn’t still sit with you. But it does.

You haven’t talked about it, not really. There was the usual snark when you ran into him again. A few jabs. A shared drink. The bar, the laughter of your mutual friends, the haze of alcohol. Somehow, the sharp edges between you dulled just enough to land you here.

Most of the group has either left or passed out in various corners of Monica’s apartment, and somehow, you and Frankie ended up here, half-heartedly sharing the last warm beers from the cooler.

You sit next to him, knees almost brushing, and the silence between you isn’t uncomfortable. Just charged. Familiar in a way that annoys you.

He tilts his head, a beer bottle resting on his thigh. “So. Admit it.”

You glance over. “Admit what?”

“That you missed me this week.”

You snort. “Yeah. Like I miss traffic jams and paper cuts.”

Frankie grins, undeterred. “You wound me, Summer.”

“You’ll live. Probably.”

“You’re in a great mood tonight.”

“I’m always delightful. You’re just usually too busy being insufferable to notice.”

He chuckles and takes a sip of his beer, eyeing you over the rim. “Nah, this is different. You’re softer. Almost nice. It’s unnerving, honestly.”

You roll your eyes. “Maybe it’s the alcohol. Maybe I’m just too tired to fight you.”

“Or maybe,” he says slowly, leaning back, “you actually like me.”

Fucking hell, why did your heart just skip a beat?

You shoot him a look—part venom, part amusement. “Now you’re drunk.”

He just raises an eyebrow. “You haven’t insulted my hair once tonight. That’s real progress.”

You stare at him, deadpan. “It’s because I’ve accepted your fate as a mop.”

And then—he laughs.

Really laughs. Head tilted back, eyes crinkled, unguarded and entirely too handsome in the dim streetlight.

And something about that makes you laugh too—short and sharp at first, and then full, genuine, almost unwilling.

He freezes. “Holy shit. Was that a real laugh?”

You try to recover, but he’s already grinning at you like he’s just discovered a new species.

“Stop looking at me like that,” you mutter, warningly.

“No, no way. That was a full-on laugh. With teeth. This is the seventh world wonder.”

You nudge him with your elbow, trying—and failing—to hide your smile. “You’re such a pain.”

“But a hot one,” he says, nudging back. “Admit it, ice queen. I’m growing on you.”

You shake your head, the stupid smile refusing to leave your face. “Like mold.”

“Sexy,” he says, all boyish grin and zero shame.

You look at him—and this time, the moment sticks. Your smiles fade, but the warmth lingers, hanging between you in the quiet hum of the city and the soft thud of your heartbeat in your ears.

His hand brushes yours—maybe on accident, maybe on purpose—and you don’t move away.

“Why are you being nice to me all of a sudden?” you ask, voice lower now, serious despite the lightheartedness of the moment.

Frankie shrugs, but there’s something too honest in the way his gaze holds yours. “Maybe I’m tired of pretending I don’t want to be.”

And then it happens—

You both lean in, drawn by whatever’s been slowly, stubbornly building for months. His breath is warm, laced with beer and something earthy—like warm ground after rain. Like sunshine, if sunshine had a smell. A feeling.

It matches this version of him. This rare softness.

Your lips are just about to meet when—

The fire escape door swings open.

“Hey—oh. Shit, sorry!” Will’s voice jolts you apart like a slap.

You pull away fast, heat flooding your face. Frankie clears his throat, runs a hand down his jaw. His other hand twitches—like he almost reached for you, but didn’t.

You shoot to your feet, the tension between you popping like a bubble.

“I should, um. Yeah.”

Frankie doesn’t stop you. Just watches you go, his face unreadable—like whatever just almost happened knocked something loose inside him, too. But he stays rooted in place.

Behind you, the echo of your shared laugh lingers—like maybe, if things had gone just a little differently, it could’ve turned into something real.

You just wanted a drink. A breath. One minute away from the noise, the laughter, the way he kept glancing at you across the room like you were some secret he was still learning how to keep.

Your chest felt tight—it was getting harder to breathe by the second. Something had shifted. Somewhere between the usual banter and that unfiltered, delicate moment outside, the lines blurred.

You didn’t know what to do with it.

Not when you’d spent so long convincing yourself that Frankie Morales was the last man on earth you could—should—fall for.

You didn’t mean to stop outside the kitchen. You didn’t mean to eavesdrop.

But then you heard Benny’s voice—loud, smug. “You’ve got what—ten days left?”

And then Frankie’s laugh. Familiar. Dismissive. “Please. I could wrap this up tomorrow if I wanted, but I savor it.”

The words don’t hit—they slice. Quick and clean, like a blade across skin.

You freeze in the hallway, blood rushing to your ears as Benny chuckles.

“She’ll crack. They always do.”

And just like that, something inside you shatters.

You take a step back like it might help, like distance could soften the blow. But it doesn’t. It never does.

The fire escape. His laugh. The way your hands touched.

You’d let your guard slip. Let yourself believe maybe he was different. Maybe this was different.

God, you should’ve known better.

He’s a primitive man after all—barely one evolutionary rung above a monkey.

And still. Minutes ago, for one fragile second, you were convinced he meant it. That maybe, stupidly, he felt it too.

This tiny, contradictory thing between you—too small to name, too big to ignore.

By the time you return to the living room, your expression is unreadable. Controlled.

Like always. Like before him.

You slide back into that old coldness like armor, and head for the door.

Then—footsteps.

“Hey,” Frankie calls, catching up. “You want me to take you home?” All soft eyes and the exact version of him you wanted to believe in.

You glance at him. And for a second—just one—you wish you didn’t know what you know. That you could go back to the way his eyes used to make you feel safe. Seen.

But you can’t.

“No,” you say, sharp. “I’ll walk.”

He frowns. “It’s late.”

“I’m aware.”

You turn, but stop with your hand on the door—just long enough to twist the knife. “I should’ve known,” you say, voice quiet. “That’s the worst part.”

He blinks, confused. “Summer?”

“You didn’t even have to try that hard, did you?” You meet his eyes now. “The jokes. The fire escape. Letting me think you actually gave a shit.”

He opens his mouth—but you’re already shaking your head.

Then, a breathless, bitter laugh. “I hope the money was worth it.”

And then you walk. You don’t wait for him to explain or chase or offer whatever version of the truth he thinks might fix this.

You just step out into the night—and that’s when you feel it.

The drizzle. Cold, familiar. Almost mocking.

It clings to your skin like déjà vu, and suddenly it’s all rushing back—your soaked clothes that night, the streetlamp glow.

You thought you’d moved on.

But this? This feels like a sick, cosmic loop.

And you keep walking to create distance between the ache in your chest and the boy who put it there.

The rain isn’t heavy, just a steady mist. The kind that seeps into your clothes and settles beneath your skin.

You wrap your arms around yourself, but it doesn’t help. Not with the cold. Not with the anger. Not with the way your throat burns from holding everything in until you were far enough away to fall apart.

Your shoes splash through shallow puddles, your breaths coming quick, ragged.

And all you can think is: How did I fall for it again?

You let him in. You let him matter.

And for what? A bet. A laugh. A handful of dollars and a bruised ego wrapped in pretend affection.

Your chest twists with something sharp and humiliating.

God, you were trying. You were soft with him. You let yourself believe in something, even if just for a little while.

I should’ve known.

You whisper it again like a prayer, like a punishment, like maybe if you say it enough it’ll hurt less.

But it doesn’t. 

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tags: @dendulinka6

[steddieas-shegoes]

sir, this is a wendy's

for @steddieholidaydrabbles prompt 'modern au' rated t wc: 765 tags: established relationship, proposal, kinda silly

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"They're out of the cookies, sweetheart," Eddie turned to Steve as he came back from the restroom of the Wendy's.

They were still nearly six hours from home and exhausted, a little bit grumpy if Steve's silence for the last hour was anything to go by.

"I'll have a Frosty then."

"Machine's down."

Steve blinked at him before sighing.

"I guess nothing then, right? Just the burger and fries."

Eddie sighed, too.

The visit with Robin hadn't gone...well. She'd told them she was taking a year to study abroad and part of the program meant she could only come home for one week during their summer break. Steve wasn't taking it well that she'd go from being an eight hour drive away to an eight hour flight away.

He was being patient.

He knew Steve hated change like this, and he'd only been sitting with it for about 12 hours.

Eddie turned back to the cashier with a smile.

"Two number two's, one with no onions and one with no tomatoes please."

Steve was standing next to him, staring down at his phone. When Eddie looked over, he had a tab open showing the program details of Robin's study abroad track.

While they waited for their food, Eddie watched Steve biting his lip, then his thumbnail, and then his lip again.

"Stevie, what's goin' on in your head?" Eddie finally asked.

Steve shoved his phone in his pocket and looked at the floor.

"Nothin'."

"It's clearly somethin'. You worried about Robin?"

"Obviously," Steve huffed.

"Love, she's-"

"Steve Munson!"

Both of them whipped their heads back to the counter, where a woman was pushing a tray of food towards them.

Steve's wide eyes looked back at Eddie, cheeks a bright red.

Eddie walked up to grab their food, ignoring the butterflies in his stomach at the thought of Steve actually being Steve Munson.

It's not that he hadn't thought about it before; He had thought about it most days for the last year.

There was a ring in his drawer at their apartment to prove it.

"Table?" Eddie choked out, avoiding eye contact with Steve.

They were quiet as they sat down, taking their food off the tray and looking at it. Not eating, not even touching it anymore, just looking.

"Um."

"So."

They looked at each other, then back down at their food.

"Steve Munson sounds kinda nice," Eddie said hesitantly.

"Yeah?" Steve was picking at the wrapper around his burger now.

"I mean, I've thought so for a while."

"You have?"

Eddie was really about to propose in this Wendy's.

Without a ring or a real speech.

Just himself and a few old people in the corner eating chili.

"I'm gonna do this for real somewhere that isn't a Wendy's on an exit in some shitty town that has two gas stations and a Wal-Mart, but for now." He cleared his throat and reached across the table to take Steve's hand. "I dunno why they called that name, but maybe it's a sign. I love you. I know right now you're having a lot of thoughts, and you don't have to answer me. I'm not even on one knee, but really this is a Wendy's and my knee's been hurting for the entire ride. I love you. I said that already."

Steve giggled and Eddie couldn't help smiling back at him.

"I love you. I'll say it as much as you want, as long as it makes that smile happen. I'll say it when you're sad and grumpy, when you're happy and silly, when you're tired, when you're hyper. If it's okay with you, I'll scream it right here."

"In the Wendy's?"

"Yes, in the Wendy's."

Steve just nodded.

"Attention everyone! This man right here? I love him!" Eddie was saying loudly, gaining the attention of everyone around them. "And I'm asking him right now, to be my husband!"

"Sir, this is a Wendy's," an old lady sitting in the booth across from them said.

Eddie and Steve immediately started laughing.

"Well, is he sayin' yes so you'll shut up or what?" An old man said from the other end of the lobby.

Eddie looked at Steve with a smirk.

"Yeah, I'll marry you," Steve said loud enough for everyone to hear.

A couple people clapped, but for the most part, everyone went back to ignoring them.

Eddie kissed Steve softly, chastely.

"Was this a distraction from the Robin thing?" Steve asked.

"Not intentionally. Worked though."

Steve rolled his eyes fondly.

"You better make the real proposal a spectacle."

"Anything for you, my love."