#serious right!!! like its been a week and a half and my ear is still fucked! and my mom is like just be patient and go back into your room a

[katsu28]

welcome home, little guy

pairing: lando norris x reader

summary: to you, summer break means no races, no responsibilities, and all the poolside piña coladas you can drink. apparently to your boyfriend, it means bringing home a new addition to your family. (1.8k)

a/n: working on way too many things at once rn but i simply couldn't resist <3 lando puppy video u will always be famous to me

To say you’re looking forward to the summer break is an understatement. It’s the first time during the whole season you get to spend two straight weeks with Lando, doing whatever you want, whenever you want. No races, no working, nothing but relaxing with the love of your life for fourteen whole days. You can only imagine the things you’ll do, the places you’ll go. 

Truth be told, he needs this more than you do. Things have been a bit tough lately, on and off the track, so to have some time off to rest and recharge before the second half of the season will be good for him. Good for you too, so you can make sure he isn’t thinking about anything other than his well being. 

You’re buzzing with excitement at the thought of him coming home any minute now, opting to await his arrival in the comfort of your shared apartment instead of braving the swarming crowd you know for a fact is waiting for him when his jet touches down in Nice. You’re so eager you’re surprised you haven’t paced a hole in the living room carpet. You like to think you’ll kiss him stupid once you set eyes on him, though you also think you’re more likely to cry a little first. 

The beep of the front door padlock powering down pulls you out of your thoughts, and then his voice, achingly familiar and soft, “Baby? Are you home?” 

“Yeah!” You say, nearly bouncing on the balls of your feet. He appears from the hallway slowly after a few seconds, and his back is facing you, which makes you pause. “Uh…Lan? What’s happening? Why are you facing the other way?” 

“Don’t get mad at me,” He replies over his shoulder, lowering his bag onto the floor gently with one hand. 

You narrow your eyes at his back, suspicious more than anything. “Why? What’ve you—oh my god, please don’t tell me you got that tattoo you were talking about a few weeks ago.”

“Alright, relax, I didn’t get a tattoo,” He huffs. He’s still facing backwards. “Though it’s good to know how unsupportive you’ll be if I ever do get it, thanks, babe.” 

“Seriously, what is going on with you? And for fuck’s sake, love, will you please turn around?”

He spins on his heel gingerly, beaming so bright it rivals the sun. At first, you think it’s because of you, but then you catch sight of what’s most likely the reason for that big smile, and your breath catches in your chest.

The tiniest puppy you’ve ever seen sits snuggled in Lando’s arms, peering out at you with wide eyes. Dark brown fur covers its head and pointy little ears, fading into a lighter coppery color around its eyes before turning pure white at the snout and along the rest of its body. The same lighter brown spreads in a patch along its back. 

“Lando, you did not.” 

“I did.” 

“Are you serious?” 

He smiles guiltily, stepping closer with the pup. “Are you mad at me?” 

“No, I’m…just surprised, is all. How did you—when did you have time to get a dog while you were working?” 

“The team partnered with a shelter for dogs for a video to, like, bring awareness and hopefully get the pups some forever homes, and um, they brought a bunch of puppies,” Lando explains, shifting the puppy a little higher against his chest. You close the leftover gap, reaching out to let the timid pup sniff your hand a few times. “This little guy crawled right up into my lap and didn’t move the whole time we were filming, and I think we just bonded with each other immediately.”

“Bet you loved that, didn’t you?” You smile, stroking its soft fur gently. Whether you’re talking to the puppy or Lando, you’re not really sure, but either way, you’re already feeling yourself start to fall in love. 

He gazes down at the dog curled up in the crook of his elbow so fondly you’re almost jealous. You’re not, but you’ve never seen Lando look at anyone or anything with this much love in his eyes before (other than you, and maybe spring rolls). “I know we've never really talked a lot about the right time to get a dog, but I couldn’t—I knew I couldn’t not bring him home with me.” 

The pup leans forward, licking your fingertips with his little pink tongue, and your heart melts into a puddle at your feet. It’s true, you’ve had the dog conversation with Lando many times before, all of which always ended the same way. With Lando being away so much and you with your own job, bringing in a new addition to your lives would be tough to figure out. 

But as Lando transfers him into your arms, and he instantly nestles up against you like you’re his home, every excuse you’ve ever made for not getting a dog flies right out the window. You know it in your heart, this is the dog you and Lando were meant to love. 

“Hi, darling,” You say softly, lifting the pup to your eye level. He’s so small he fits comfortably in two hands, tiny black nose twitching as he cranes his neck out to sniff at you. “You really did a number on this one, huh? Made him fall in love with you?” 

Lando steps behind you, sliding his arms around your waist to bring you flush against him. He hooks his chin over your shoulder comfortably, pressing a kiss to your cheek as he gives the pup scratch under the chin. “Seems like he’s doing the same to you.” 

“Seems like it,” You hum. You bring him back against your chest and up towards Lando, who breaks into a fit of giggles as his nose gets a good few licks. 

“So…can we keep him?” 

“This isn’t going to be easy, Lan, you know that, right?” You say. He nods. “We’ve got to take him to the vet, set up sessions with a trainer, potty train him. Figure out how we’re gonna do this when you’re gone.”

“We’ll figure it out before I leave again, baby. We’ve got time,” He insists, rubbing his hands up and down your arms reassuringly. “Besides, I’ve already asked Charles and Alex for tips, they’re coming round for lunch and a chat as soon as they’re back in Monaco. And they’re bringing Leo, so who knows, maybe these two will become best friends.” 

“Look at you, planning puppy playdates already. He’s got forever with us now, you know? Let’s get him used to us and this place before we introduce him to others, dog dad.” 

Lando scoffs, but not unkindly. More amused than anything. “Well! Seems like we already know which one is going to be the mean parent out of the both of us, don’t we, Archie?” 

“That’s his name? Archie?”

“It’s the one the shelter gave him, but we can still change it if we find one we like more.”

“No, it’s perfect,” You murmur, planting a kiss atop Archie’s furry head. “Welcome home, Archie.” 

“Yeah,” Lando replies, squeezing you a little tighter. “Welcome home, little guy. We love you so much already.” 

You angle your head towards him, catching his chin with your free hand, bringing him towards you and kissing him gently. Lando all but melts into you, happily reciprocating. “Welcome home to you too, my love.” 

“Mm, I’ve missed you,” He hums, nuzzling into the crook of your neck with a content, deflating sigh. “Gonna be a nice break, innit? No more grainy video chats or time differences for fourteen days, just you and me.” 

Archie lets out a whine, the first noise he’s made since Lando’s gotten home, as if to remind the both of you that he’s here too. Lando laughs, smoothing his fingers between the pup’s ears goodnaturedly. “And you too, of course, buddy.” 

You know Archie can’t understand a word either of you say, but the way he cocks his head intuitively makes you think that maybe, just maybe, he might. 

-------

You’re used to Lando being an early riser, but he always stays in bed waiting for you to wake up on his off days, ready to cuddle with you until one of you gets hungry. 

This morning, however, when you lazily reach out an arm to find him, you come up with nothing but cold sheets. Blinking the sleep out of your eyes as much as you can, you squint over at his side of the bed to see his squashed pillow and rumpled duvet, but no Lando. In your half asleep state, part of you thinks you’d just imagined him coming home with a puppy yesterday. 

But then you see the crinkly fish shaped toy on the floor in the hall as you go to find Lando, the one you’d insisted on getting on your impromptu trip to the nearest pet supply store last night despite all his huffing and puffing about it.

It’s Archie’s favorite out of all the toys you’d bought, you’d say, based on the way he’d dragged it around the living room for ages even though it was nearly the size of him. 

Lando’s laying on the floor in the middle of the kitchen when you make your way in, spread eagle on his back with said puppy standing right on his chest. As soon as he spots you, he lifts his head, grinning at you excitedly. Archie takes note of the sudden movement and barks, leaping off Lando and making a beeline straight to where you’re crouched with open hands. 

“Little traitor!” Lando grumbles, pouting as he pulls himself into a cross-legged position. “I’ve played with you for the last hour and you run away as soon as someone else comes along? Rejection is a bitter cold.” 

“Don’t be jealous, Lan. Archie just knows who his favorite is already.”

“That’s bullshit,” He scoffs, rolling his eyes playfully. He directs his next words at the pup currently enjoying a nice belly rub from you. “Remember who brought you home, Archibald Norris.” 

“Hang on, why does he get your last name? Why can’t it be mine?” 

Lando shrugs nonchalantly. “Mine’s got a better ring to it. Duh.” 

“That’s not fair, he’s my son too, he should have my last name!” 

“Fine, we’ll hyphenate. Happy?” 

Your nose scrunches, head tilting side to side in contemplation. “Mm, feels like the short end of the stick, but I’ll take it. Alright buddy, go to your dad! Go, go!” You encourage, throwing the fish toy you’d picked up towards Lando. 

“Not the fucking fish!” He yelps, but he grabs it anyway, scrambling to his feet to have Archie come after him in pursuit of his beloved toy. Archie barks up a storm as he chases Lando, tongue lolling out of his mouth, little legs moving as quick as they can. 

Sure, maybe there won't be any jet setting away on holiday during this break, but it’s fine. You haven’t seen Lando look this happy in a long time now, so you don’t care at all, really. 

In fact, as you watch Lando and Archie run around the apartment like they’ve been best buddies forever, you know there’s nowhere else you’d rather be. 

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[itneverendshere]

erase all of my memories without you - rafe cameron.

part 2 of can't remember anything before you.

pairing: rafe cameron x thornton!reader; brother's best friend! trope or best friend's sister! trope ; fem!reader.

“rafe, i told you, no hickeys!”

“can you blame me?” he has that mischievous gleam in his eyes, like he's testing just how far he can push your boundaries. “you’re just so pretty, baby.”

you roll your eyes, trying to maintain a serious tone despite the playful grin pulling at your lips. “shut up.” 

being with rafe cameron was not on your yearly plans, but every single day, you thank your lucky stars for finally doing something right. he's a total game-changer, your personal slice of heaven. 

who would have thought the universe had that kind of surprise up its sleeve? 

he leans in closer, breath warm against your ear, arms wrapped securely around your waist, and you feel a shiver run down your spine. "i should visit more often if that’s how you’re going to greet me each time.”

you can't help but lean back into his embrace, savoring every moment of closeness.

"you should." you reply, your voice barely above a whisper, your fingers gently tracing circles on his hand. “wouldn't mind that at all."

you’d been together ever since that fateful night in your garden, months ago. 

sneaking around had its thrills, especially with your brother always lurking nearby, but nothing compared to the challenge of a long-distance relationship. late-night calls, stolen moments of intimacy over video chats, and endless messages are your lifelines. 

so when rafe finally stepped through the door of your new york apartment last night, after weeks apart, it was no surprise that you couldn't help but pounce on him, eager to make up for lost time. his slutty grey sweatpants, his choice of comfortable for a flight, were imprinted into your brain. 

“so, so pretty." he murmurs, lips brushing against your earlobe, “y'know i can't resist leaving my mark on you."

you playfully swat at him, a grin spreading across your face despite your half-hearted protest, “topper would kill you."

rafe snorts, the sound traveling through your body as he presses a kiss to your temple, “he can try.”

you can't help but feel a twinge of guilt at the thought of keeping your relationship with rafe under wraps. it’s not like you don’t want to make it official, god, you do. but you’ve spent the last four months having him all to yourself, you don’t want other people to butt in and ruin everything with their unsolicited opinions. 

being with him feels right. he's your rock, your constant in a world that's always changing. 

“can we go back to bed now?” rafe’s warm breath tickles your ear as he speaks, his voice laced with a hint of grogginess, sleep still clouding his brain, “it’s fucking freezing.”

you chuckle quietly at his sleepy request, the sound mixing with the gentle hum of the heater as it struggles to combat the winter chill.

“course." you murmur, unwrapping yourself from his arms to press a tender kiss to his cheek, "let's get you warmed up."

his fingers don’t let you move an inch away, circling your wrist to pull you closer against his chest again, big cheeky smile on his face as he looks down at you. “you gonna warm me up, peach?”

"i might." you reply with a sly smirk, trailing a finger down his shirtless chest. "but you might have to work for it a little."

rafe's eyes widen with mock surprise. "is that so?" he asks, his voice low and husky as he pulls you closer. “well, lucky for you, i’m up for a challenge."

you’d never felt butterflies in your tummy until you started dating this man. he has you wrapped around his fingers, and you don’t want out. it physically hurts you to even think about a time when you didn’t have rafe like this.

you can't imagine being anywhere else but here, wrapped in his embrace.

with a playful giggle, you give him a knowing look. "’m counting on it," you murmur, as you pull him closer. you stand on your barefoot tiptoes, arms lacing around his neck. “really missed you.”

rafe's arms tighten around you as he pulls you impossibly close, his warmth enveloping you like a cozy blanket. his gaze softens, filled with a tenderness that makes your heart flutter even faster.

 “missed you too, more than you know." he murmurs, his breath mingling with yours as he leans in to press a docile kiss to your lips.

“always thinking about my girl.” 

as his lips meet yours, a wave of warmth washes over you, melting away any lingering traces of cold or distance. fuck, you’re in love with him and if he keeps kissing you like this, you might confess earlier. you’re way in over your head.

you sigh contentedly against his lips, savoring the feeling of being so close to him after being apart for so long. his touch, his scent, his presence—all of it feels like home to you. breaking the kiss reluctantly, you rest your forehead against his.

“stop staring at me like that peach.” he scolds, but there’s no bite to his tone as his fingertips brush your cheek lightly. “gonna end up buying this fucking building if you keep that up.”

you smile again, that’s all you seem to do around him anyway, as his beautiful eyes sweep up from your lips to meet your own. “rafe cameron living in new york? i’d pay to see that.”

rafe chuckles, the sound rumbling through his chest and sending pleasant vibrations through your body. his fingers trace lazy patterns along your cheek, his touch sweet and affectionate.

“you'd pay to see it, huh?" he teases, a playful glint in his face as he leans in closer to you, his breath warm against your skin. “’m that good of an investment?”

you can't help but laugh at his playful banter, shaking your head. you love that you get to see this side of him, how soft he is with you, only you.

“you’re alright cameron.”

"jus’ alright?" he feigns offense, his hand moving to rest over his heart in an exaggerated manner. "take it back.”

“nop.”

rafe lets out a dramatic sigh, pretending to be wounded. "no?” 

you can't help but giggle at his theatrics, finding it endearing how he always manages to lighten the mood.

"you big baby." you tease, poking him playfully in the side.

“oh, i’ll show you big.”

before you can even wrap your brain around his innuendo, you’re being thrown over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. he does it so effortlessly you almost swoon. 

you squeal in surprise, the sudden movement catching you off guard. "rafe, what the fuck?" you laugh, squirming slightly as he carries you effortlessly across the room. “what are you doing—hey!”

his palm smacks against one of your cheeks, covered by nothing except a pair of his ralph lauren boxers. “taking you to bed, where you belong.”

you play along, pretending to protest even as you secretly enjoy the attention. 

"and what if i don't want to go to bed?" you retort, trying to sound defiant.

rafe stops in his tracks, his grip tightening around your legs. "oh, trust me, peach," he says, his tone turning serious for a moment, "you definitely want to go to bed."

“hmm, not sure.”

“it’s okay brat, you’ll be sure soon enough." he teases, deep voice making you want to do the most immoral things on every single surface of your apartment.

a repeat of last night. 

you play along, feigning uncertainty as he deposits you gently onto the queen-sized bed, his stare burning with desire as he hovers over you, thick arms caging you in. one of your hands wraps around his bicep, nails grazing the skin as you glance up at him, head tilted to the side.

rafe’s eyes instantly move to your neck as your hair slips behind, tongue poking out to wet his lips, "i don't know, baby, might have to convince me."

he leans in closer, his breath warm against your skin. "consider it my pleasure." he murmurs, his lips brushing against yours in a tantalizingly gentle kiss.

you feel a shiver run down your back as rafe's lips meet yours, his kiss sending a surge of electricity through your body. you’ll never get used to this. his touch is both tender and assertive, his lips moving against yours with a practiced finesse that leaves you breathless. 

it's like every nerve in your being wakes up, responding eagerly to his touch.

as he deepens the kiss, his hands roam over your body, tracing the curves of your waist and hips with a possessive urgency, with a sense of familiarity as if committing every curve to memory. his fingers tangle in your hair, pulling you closer as he deepens the kiss even further, his tongue tracing the seam of your lips before delving into your mouth in a hungry, desperate kiss. you melt against him, surrendering. 

you feel a surge of heat pooling in the pit of your stomach, your breath catching in your throat as he explores you with a hunger that leaves you trembling.

“better than alright?” he mumbles against your lips and you find yourself unable to resist the pull of his touch, arching against him in silent invitation. his lips trail a path of fire along your jawline and down your neck, leaving a trail of kisses in their wake, “lost your voice, huh?”

he’s so addicted to sucking harshly on your skin, nibbling it playfully to drag out and elicit the sweetest sounds from your mouth. a melodic moan escapes your parted lips.

“you’re such an asshole.”

“there she is.” rafe's husky chuckle fills the air, sending pleasant vibrations through your body as he continues to pepper kisses along your neck, each one igniting a fiery trail of craving in its wake. “’m your asshole though.”

“not if you keep teasing.” 

his lips pause their trail, hovering just above your skin as he looks up at you, one of his brows raised, "teasing?”

before you can protest his lips are on yours again, hungry and demanding. his hands roam over your body with a newfound urgency, tracing every corner and eliciting a gasp of pleasure from your lips. he has the audacity to hush you when he pins you harder with his hips, clothed cock rubbing perfectly against you. 

your nails can’t help but dig into his shoulders, pulling at the skin. the way he's moving against you makes you feel like getting on your knees and letting him do whatever he wants to you, for however long he wishes to.

but then, your stupid intercom is buzzing.

you both freeze, caught in the throes of passion interrupted. rafe drops his head on your shoulder, groaning. 

"seriously?" he mutters, his voice tinged with frustration as he rolls off you, giving you space to sit up.

“it’s probably breakfast.” you’re smoothing out your rumpled clothes— if you can call an oversized tee and boxers an outfit.

rafe lets out an exaggerated sigh, flopping back onto the bed, “’m so hard it hurts.�� he whines, throwing an arm over his face.

“you’ll be fine.”

“can’t even see you right now, might cum in my sweats.” he mutters, his voice muffled by the fabric of your pillows.

you stifle a laugh, shaking your head at his melodramatic response.

"you're ridiculous." you tease, moving to sit beside him on the bed.

rafe peeks out from under his arm, giving you a glare, his bottom lip jutting out in a comically exaggerated pout. “and you're making me harder, stop touching me and go get the door.”

you lean in to press a quick kiss to his cheek, feet planted on the ground as you attempt to get up, but he’s quick to pull you down again. his beefy arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you back on top of him.

“rafe.”

“gimme a kiss before you go.”

“though you didn’t want me to touch you.” you tease, leaning down to press a short kiss to his lips. it's meant to be quick, just a peck, but his hand snakes up to the back of your neck, deepening the kiss. settling on your lower lip, he draws it into his mouth, sucking lightly, pushing you even closer. he runs his hands along your sides, one stopping just below your covered breasts—

“the door,” you manage to stutter out between kisses, “behave.”

when he finally pulls away, both your lips are slightly swollen, red and you’re both breathless.

 "there," you say as you push yourself off the bed once more. but this time, rafe lets you go without protest, admiring you with a lazy smile as you make your way to the door. 

when you moved back to new york three months ago, you chose to do it independently. while your parents owned at least three penthouses in the city, you needed something smaller. what was the point in living alone in such big apartments? you’d be miserable and alone most of the time.

you chose a smaller studio, fancy enough to be your type, but cozy enough to make you feel at home, even though you were miles away. 

as you reach the door, you glance back to see rafe still lounging in your bed, arms crossed lazily behind his head. you shake your own, turn back, and open the door.

your heart immediately falls through your ass.

“topper?!”

he ignores you, pushing you aside to enter as he focuses on removing the thick scarf around his neck, struggling to get it off as he rants.

“about damn time, you know how long i was outside?! swear to god i hate this city, it’s freezing for no reason and—is that rafe fucking cameron on your bed?!”

you freeze in place, feeling a knot form in your stomach as you watch topper's reaction unfold. rafe, ever the cool customer, sits up in bed, a smirk playing at his lips as he meets your brother’s incredulous gaze head-on. you can feel a headache forming in the back of your head. 

"hey, top." rafe geets, his tone casual as if he's just encountered an old friend. which he has because that’s his best friend. "long time no see?"

topper's eyes narrow as he takes in the sight of rafe lounging on your bed, “okay, okay. what the fuck is going on?”

he's going to freak out on you.

you clear your throat, trying to find the right words to explain the situation, “he’s visiting.”

top nods, not leaving his best friend out of his sight, “clearly! why are you in my sister’s bed, cameron?”

“was i supposed to sleep on the floor?” rafe replies, tone nonchalantly as he shrugs casually.

you’re going to kill him.

topper's jaw clenches as he shoots rafe a glare, clearly unimpressed by his answer. "you know damn well what i mean." he says, his voice menacing, so different from what you're used to.

rafe's smirk only widens, “relax, man," he says, his tone dripping with casual indifference. "we were just hanging out."

and about to have sex, but your brother doesn’t need all the details. 

topper's expression darkens further at your boyfriend’s flippant attitude, and you can practically feel the terrible outcome. 

"in her bed?" he asks, his voice dangerously low.

you step forward, hoping to defuse the situation before it escalates any further.

 "topper, it's not what you think," you begin, but your brother holds up a hand to silence you.

“and why are you wearing his clothes?”

you glance down at your choice of outfit, flustered, you try to come up with a plausible explanation, “uh—well—it's a funny story, i-i'm out of clothes actually, who knew doing your laundry took so much work?”

his attention flickers between you and rafe, suspicion evident in his expression. you can practically see the gears turning in his head.

"out of clothes?" he repeats, his tone incredulous. "and you decided to borrow his?"

you shift uncomfortably under his scrutinization, trying to come up with a better explanation, but you can’t. “yeah?”

he squeezes his eyes shut as if he’s in pain, “please tell me my sister isn’t fucking my best friend.”

you swallow hard, feeling the weight of his scrutiny bearing down on you, but rafe speaks before you can conjure the words. 

“your sister isn’t fucking your best friend, happy?” 

you shoot rafe a warning look, silently pleading for him to play along and not make the situation worse.

you step forward, again. “topper, please, it's not what you think,” you say, your voice tinged with desperation. “rafe just came to visit, that's all.”

topper's stare softens as he contemplates, but his expression remains guarded. “and you didn't think to tell me?”

you bite your lip, feeling guilty for keeping your relationship with rafe a secret from your brother. “i wanted to, i just... didn't know how.”

rafe interjects, his tone more serious now. “top, i know this probably looks bad—”

“it looks really bad,” topper interrupts, his frustration evident.

“but nothing's happened,” rafe continues, ignoring the interruption. “we're just friends.”

but your brother is still inspecting you. and it’s only when his eyes descend to your neck, you realize what he’s looking at.

“is that why she got at least three hickeys on her neck?”

you feel a flush rise to your cheeks as topper's accusation hangs heavy in the air. you stare nervously at rafe, hoping he'll come up with a believable explanation, but he just shrugs nonchalantly, as if the hickeys are no big deal. 

“they’re not hickeys, i burned myself with my curling iron.”

“yeah and i’m fucking adriana lima on my spare time.”

“okay?” you quickly turn your head back to the wall because you think you're about to puke up everything you just ingested.

"oh fuck, not you." top groans in frustration, seeing where rafe googly looks are directed, “not you two! you can't be serious?! that's my sister, dude; come on!" 

rafe finally stands up from your bed, his tone is firm, his expression serious as he steps closer to your brother, his hands held out in a placating gesture. “it’s not like that.”

topper glances back and forth between you two, focusing on the blush of your cheeks and the adoration in rafe’s face now that you are looking back at him. a sick, knowing feeling had been building inside of him since he walked through the door. 

“i can’t fucking believe this.” 

“it’s not like that,” rafe repeats, walking to your side, hating the way your eyes are starting to water. he keeps his hand on your arm, thumb brushing circles over your cold skin, “we’re together. and watch your fucking tone when you speak to her.”

“don’t tell me how to speak to my sister!"

rafe's jaw clenches, a muscle ticking in his cheek. despite that, his hand remains steady on your arm, offering you a silent anchor of support. you feel a knot tighten in your stomach as you testify the tension between the two most important men in your life escalates.

"guys, please," you interject, your voice trembling, "this isn't helping anything."

“you’re in love with her, cameron?”

topper’s question makes you want to dig a hole in the middle of your studio and run.

what the hell?!

he can’t just barge in and make everything a mess. this is what you were afraid of, people meddling with your relationship. you and rafe haven’t discussed it yet. yeah it’s clear you’re in love with him, but you want to be the one to tell him and vice versa. you don’t want him to feel pressured to do it.

rafe's hand tightens on your arm, anchoring himself with the feeling of you beneath his fingertips. his eyes search yours for guidance. you can see the conflict in his expression.

he doesn’t shy away from the question, and his gaze never leaves yours. he traces every line of your face, “yeah, i am.”

the words hang in the air, a declaration that changes everything and nothing all at once. then time stops. your stomach turns unhelpfully, and you feel your skin turn clammy. 

from the corner of your eye, you see the shock register on your brother’s face before he can hide it. strangely, he seems to understand now, perhaps more than you realized he would. for a moment, there's silence in the room, the weight of rafe's confession settling over all of you. but then topper lets out a heavy sigh, his shoulders sagging with the weight of understanding.

"okay," he says, his voice softer now, lacking the edge of anger from before. "okay."

you let out a breath you didn't realize you were holding, feeling a sense of relief flood through you. despite the uncertainty of what comes next. 

rafe's hand finds yours, intertwining his fingers with yours in a silent gesture of solidarity. you squeeze his hand, feeling the warmth of his touch grounding you. 

"thank you," you say to topper, your voice barely above a whisper but brimmed with gratitude.

he nods, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "just... take care of each other, okay?"

“can you leave now?” rafe all but interrupts the sentimental exchange, “kinda need to properly confess.”

topper raises an eyebrow at his abrupt request, clearly caught off guard by the bluntness. but after a second of hesitation, he nods, pushing himself off the wall where he's been leaning.

"yeah, sure," he says, giving you a meaningful look before turning to leave. "just... be careful, both of you. i’ll stop by later for dinner."

you offer him a small smile in return, feeling a shit ton of emotions swirling inside you as you watch him go. once he's out of sight, you let out a sigh, the tension in the room finally dissipating.

rafe releases your hand, moving to close the door behind topper before returning to your side. his expression is softer now, focused solely on you. 

"you okay?" he asks, his voice soft as he brushes a strand of hair away from your face.

you nod, offering him a shaky smile. "yeah, think so. that was... unexpected."

rafe pulls you into his arms, holding you close as if he never wants to let you go. 

"m’ sorry peach," he murmurs against your hair, his voice filled with regret. "didn't mean to drop that bomb on ya like that."

you sink into his embrace, finding comfort in the warmth of his body and the steady beat of his heart. "t's okay," you whisper, your voice barely audible as you nuzzle into his chest. "just wish it had been different."

he presses a kiss to the top of your head, arms tightening around you protectively. "i know," he murmurs, his voice a soothing balm to your frazzled nerves.

then, as if a floodgate has opened within you, the words spill from your lips, raw and unfiltered. "i’m in love with you too, rafe."

his arms around you tighten, as if to reassure himself that your words are real. 

"i love you," he murmurs against your hair, "more than anything."

you feel tears prickling at the corners of your eyes, “you’re gonna make me cry.”

he pulls back slowly, cupping your face in his hands and wiping away the tears that have started to fall. "hey now, no tears, baby. only happy ones, yeah?"

you nod, sniffling but managing a watery smile. "yeah, happy tears. because i love you, rafe cameron."

he smiles back, a gentleness in him you've never seen before. 

"and i love you, more than anything in this world."

you can't help but lean into his touch, feeling the warmth of his palms against your cheeks. his stare is full of tenderness, his thumb gently brushing away the last traces of tears.

"you're everything, y’know that?" he murmurs, his voice overflowing with sincerity.

you nod, feeling a lump forming in your throat at the depth of his words. "yeah, i do. and so are you.”

he leans in closer, lips capturing yours in a sweet kiss. he moves against you with a gentle fervor, his hands cradling your face as if you're the most precious thing in the world to him. and in that moment, you know without a doubt that you are and as you pull away, breathless yet content, you rest your forehead against his, savoring the closeness and the warmth that surrounds you.

"i love you," you whisper.

"i love you too, always," rafe replies, his voice a gentle caress against your skin.

[sixosix]

could you please write a soft drabble where toge helps the reader sleep? (i mean sfw ofc <3) My babygirl needs more appreciation 😔 its okay if you cant i love your works thank you <3

( a/n ) !!! toge req!!! dropped everything to write this, wc 700

you’re not quite sure if you can cross this line.

you and toge have been closer these past few weeks, but does it warrant a free pass to his bedroom? probably not. definitely not. you wouldn’t march into nobara’s room without warning beforehand, and you’ve been friends with her for longer.

but maybe it’s different. maybe it’s because it’s toge and it’s why you aren’t as nervous as you’re supposed to be.

( or maybe it’s the lack of sleep catching up to you, blurring words together to the point where you can’t tell right from wrong. )

a moment of hesitation, then, knock knock.

“…toge?” you call out, pressing your forehead against his door. there are beats of silence before you hear the shuffling of feet and stumbling here and there.

and, finally, the door opens, with toge unused to the soft light, blinking slowly, eyes half-lidded.

“sorry,” you mumble, finding yourself entranced at the way strands of hair stick out from his head. “you were sleeping, i don’t know why i—”

a hand catches your wrist before you even think about turning away. “bonito flakes,” toge says, his voice sounding rougher than it usually is.

your neck prickles with heat. “it’s… nothing serious. i just… you know…”

he pulls you closer—in hopes of making you look at him, probably, but embarrassment creeps in, and you can’t bring yourself to look at him any longer.

toge whispers, as if sharing a secret, “tuna mayo.”

it should be a little funny that he’s trying to comfort you with rice ball ingredients, but all you can focus on is how your heart is pounding, his skin is warm against yours, and his voice—rarely there, rarely spoken—has never sounded sweeter.

you take a deep breath, staring at your intertwined hands. “i can’t sleep. i don’t know why, but i thought of going here.”

you feel toge shift. you look up, and he’s looking away. maybe it’s a trick of the soft moonlight, but his ears are a bit red.

toge gestures inside his room with his head, asking, “tuna?”

“you wouldn’t mind?”

“fish flakes.” he sounds almost offended that you even asked.

in the darkness, you two stumble into his room. toge kicks his door closed, still refusing to let go of your wrist, and you let him, realizing that you didn’t have to stand outside his room for five minutes overthinking.

he leads you to his bed. he sits there first, then shuffles to the other edge of it to pull you onto it.

you follow suit, and now you two are awkwardly pressed against each other, shoulder to shoulder. you’re stiff, unsure of what to do with yourself. toge makes a soft noise, and belatedly, you realize it’s a chuckle.

you can only hope he doesn’t feel your pulse when his fingers wrap around it.

two beats of hesitant silence later, you are lying in a much more comfortable position, your backs pressed against each other. you exhale, content; toge hums in agreement, shifting so his hand finds its way to lace itself around yours.

he seems to really like holding your hands.

perhaps knowing that someone is right there makes you feel more at ease than you were earlier in your own room. ( or, perhaps—and you didn’t want to think about this for too long—it’s because it’s toge. )

you don’t know how, but toge must’ve realized that you still aren’t sleeping and turns to the other side. he is a heavy breath away from mouthing your neck. don’t make it weird, you chant in your head, before you do the same; you’ll only make it weird if you think it is weird. don’t make it weird.

but looking at how the barely-there moonlight from his window reflects shadows and lights on his face, your breath hitches. you’re definitely making it weird.

“salmon,” toge whispers, shuffling closer.

you don’t know what he means by that this time, so you wordlessly pull closer in response.

toge smiles, pleased. you blink in confusion—disappointment—when he tugs his hand away from yours, only to find home in the back of your head.

you stare at him, wide awake, and toge is gazing back, eyes half-open. he’s looking at you like you’re something precious: fond and sweet. you’ve never felt more adored than when he has eyes on you.

his fingers start moving, carding through your hair. it feels nicer than you expected, and inumaki huffs a soft noise—a laugh again, you realize—when you nuzzle closer to him.

you have your eyes closed. toge inches closer. there’s warmth on your forehead; when toge pulls away, it disappears just as fast.

sleep comes easier this time. you wonder if there are other lines that toge is willing to cross with you.

i wrote this in an hour forgive me if it’s written weirdly LOL <33 rbs and comments fuel me

[doki-doki-imagines]

Okay so I’m so in love with your fics (especially the mk ones) you don’t even know how much joy they bring me!

I’m in so much pain and I’m quite literally bleeding out, so that leaves me wondering, how would the mk1 men (specifically Liu Kang and Kui Liang, but you can add anyone) react if their lover was very emotionally and physically needy when their time of the month comes around. Like would Liu and Kui use their hands as a personal heating pad? Would they let go easy on me in training? And what would happen if I over exerted myself doing daily tasks, only to be left on the verge of crying? Would they let me be as close as I can to them at night because the warmth helps me with my horrific cramps?

ANYWAY, sorry this is a bit of word vomit, but I wanna see your thoughts on this! Also idc if its just sfw, or both sfw and nsfw. (Love your work!!)

author note: you are so cute!! Feel free to ramble whenever you want, I always chat with pleasure!🫡 It's bloody week for me too, so I understand more or less your pain. Hope you'll enjoy these as much as you enjoyed my previous works! I'm still a puddle from your kind words lol

Liu Kang: "How are you, dear?" It's a rethorical question, Liu Kang knows the answer, and he doesn't like it. He had to leave you early this morning to greet and train his trainees, kissing your forehead and caressing your pelvis with his warm hand, a temporary relief, before leaving your aching body. "I'm a bit better." Liu Kang can feel the pain in your voice and sighs. You are laying on the couch, dragon shaped hot-water bottle settled on your tummy. He kneels in front of you, shiny eyes looking straight into yours. "Do you want something to eat? Maybe soup?" His left hand caresses your cheek; you must have cried from pain since it is moist. "No, just your company is going to be enough before training." He stands up, already sitting next to you, arm encircling your shoulders, making your head rest on his necknook. "No training for you today-" His plush lips kiss your temple, one hand now resting where the hot-water bottle was, tattoos glowing in the dim light of the room "Just rest, dear one." You close your eyes, finally relaxed enough to rest in the arms of your lover.

Kuai Liang: He runs to your shared room, rumours of you passing at the training ground spreading like a virus, each person it goes by making the news more virulent. "I heard there was blood anywhere." "Maybe it's an hemorrhage." "I heard doctors were desperate." This is what arrived to Liang ears, now running, face beaded in sweat and pale, so pale you could see the veins on his face. "How are you?!" The door slams open, onyx strands of hair falling from his high bun. You look at him, tears staining your cheeks, laying on the bed in fetal position. Liang runs toward you, his hand immediately on your forehead, feeling your temperature. "I don't have a fever, Liang." Your voice is barely a whisper, pain clear in your voice, not calming your boyfriend at all. "I've been told that you passed out and that you were losing a lot of blood." Liang voice is hurried, eyes still scanning your face, searching for a potential hint of your condition. You let out a chuckle, now your hands caressing his rough cheeks. "Love, I'm just menstruating." Liang sighs, head falling down, even deeper in the palm of your hands. "I was so worried for you." His eyes finally more relaxed, a smile gracing his face, but it lasts just a second, a serious expression now taking its place. "How many times I told you to take it easy when you are like this." "Many mom, you are right, won't do it anymore." You half joke, sing-sanging as best as you can, cramps still making it hard for you to fully smile. Liang pinches your cheek, laying next to you, your back touching his front, hands on your pelvis, keeping you tight against him in a warm embrace. "Grandmaster, don't you have places to go?" You ask worried, but still making yourself more comfortable in his arms. "Grandmaster had enough stress for today, now it's recharge time." He replies, head in your necknook, eyes closed before giving a butterfly kiss to your neck. Yeah, recharge time doesn't sound bad right now.

[totallyjustabunchofhocuspocus]

Fic: Something to Sink Your Teeth Into 21/?

Pairing: Buck/Tommy

Vampire/Witch!AU

Read on AO3

Yeah, I don't even know y'all. Some people stress bake or stress clean, I stress-hammer out like 12k words in four days? Thank you to everyone who is following this :) I still love everyone in this bar!

“Hey Sally?” Evan very deliberately did not look up from the book he was looking through, staring at the brittle, yellowed pages as though they held the secrets of the universe instead of some faded illustrations of different types of protection runes,

Hmm? Sally replied, the lazy, half-asleep tone making Evan smile.

She had curled up right in front of the living room fireplace, having started a roaring fire pretty much the instant Evan’s parents had departed for dinner with a couple of Dad’s work colleagues. The fireplace was purely decorative…there wasn’t a flue, and usually the firebox contained only a set of decorative candles. Sally adored hearth fires, though, and took every opportunity to transfigure herself a fully functioning fireplace whenever his parents went out in the winter.

“You know that spell we were working on today?” he tried to keep his voice light, nonchalant. As though he just wanted to debrief on the lesson and get his familiar’s feedback, like he had a thousand times before.

He never had been able to fool Sally, though. He heard a faint rustle, and when he finally looked up from the page he had been staring at blindly for the last twenty minutes, Sally had gotten up from her indolent sprawl. Her tail curled neatly around her feet and she was watching him steadily, her mangled ear twitching back and forth.

Aye? Sally’s voice was the perfectly calm, steady tone she always took when she was about to have a serious conversation with him. Clinical, almost. He appreciated it…sometimes when he talked to his parents or others in his coven, he felt like he spent half the conversation trying to parse out how they really felt just through their tone. There was never any bullshit with Sally. No hidden agendas or meaning.

“You teach me a lot of things like that,” he started, frowning down at the pages of the huge book in his lap. It was some tome Sally had had his parents borrow special from a coven library in Philadelphia. The book was bound in calfskin, and its pages were thicker than he was used to…vellum, maybe. The ink had mostly faded to a rusty red and the spidery handwriting was hard to read.

I do, Sally acknowledged.

Evan licked his lips and finally set the book down carefully on the couch cushion beside him. “Why?” he asked, voicing the question that had been racing through his head in faster and faster circles this last week. Ever since…

You heard me arguing with your mother, didn’t you? Sally sighed.

“I couldn’t sleep,” he admitted quietly.

That had been happening a lot, lately. Especially on nights after his weekly call with Maddie. He was so worried about his sister—she sounded so tired when he talked to her these days, and he kept getting the feeling that she was holding something back. Trying to keep him from noticing something. He was so tempted to go up to the house she and Doug had bought right after their wedding; just show up unannounced and refuse to leave until she told him what had her sounding so sad whenever they talked. He just wasn’t sure how that would be received.

He hated that he no longer knew how Maddie would respond to something.

Regardless of how your parents feel about me or my lessons, they entrusted your training to me. Your mother may complain all she likes, but there is little she can do to me and she knows it.

“She said you’re training me like people are still trying to burn us at the stake,” he said, and Sally sighed.

Evan, she began. You are extremely powerful. And I would never have you be ashamed or fearful of your magic, but nor would I have you ignore the realities of it. The lessons I give you, the methods and spells that I teach you…yes, they were designed for times and situations that are long gone. But they are also spells that require more discipline. More deliberation. More control. You are quite strong, little love. But that means you must also be quite skilled.

Which was the line of reasoning that he’d heard Sally use when his mother started in on why she was teaching him such old-fashioned ways of casting, and adding spells that no one used to her regimens. It made sense. And Sally never lied to him. He didn’t even really have a suspicion that she was lying to him. But…

“You were scared,” he said finally. “When you said it wasn’t like I’d ever have to use the defensive magics you were teaching me. I could feel it.”

Emotions bleeding through the bond between a witch and their familiar was just a fact of life—but Sally was old enough and disciplined enough that he rarely picked up anything from her that she was not deliberately allowing him to sense. The spike of fear he’d felt from her during that argument, though…that had not been deliberate. Sally never let him feel it when she was worried or afraid.

Ah. Sally looked away from him, her golden eyes fixing on some point over his shoulder.

“I just—Sally, all these spells. And the practice. Does it…does it mean something?”

Divination has never been one of my talents, Evan, Sally said gently, cutting straight to the heart of the question Evan was too afraid to ask. She uncurled her tail from around her feet and leapt primly up onto the couch, staring at him until he sat back against the cushions so that she could climb onto his lap. His hand automatically drifted to the thick ruff of fur around her neck, scratching gently as she pushed her forehead against his, purring softly.

“You don’t have to have a full divination dream to know something’s coming,” he said. Reading the future wasn’t one of his talents, either. Divination magic had never run very strongly in the Buckley coven line. Still, he knew familiars all had at least a little instinct for it. And he couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something deliberate in the lessons that Sally had been drilling him on for the past five years. Something beyond simply trying to teach him better control through more difficult spells.

Evan. I…it isn’t something specific. Only a sense. Neither stronger nor weaker than any such feeling I’ve had about dozens of my witches over the years. I’ve learned to listen to such senses when they come, but I do not feel the need to be ruled by them. Don’t read too much into it.

Evan swallowed, his hand stilling in Sally’s fur. “What is it?”

Sally closed her eyes briefly, sighing to herself. That I must do my best to make sure you can stand on your own. That if I love you—and oh, my boy, I do, I love you as my own, don’t ever doubt that—I must make you strong. Strong enough to thrive when others would see you wither. Strong enough to…endure.

“You make it sound like someone is coming to try and burn me at the stake,” he said shakily. Sally’s comforting purr ceased, and she sat back in his lap, reaching up with one paw to bat at his cheek.

If ever they do, I will make sure you know how to make them regret it, little love, she swore vehemently.

*

Evan held it together as he helped Tommy—and he was helping now, not mostly dragging, so hopefully that vampire regeneration was kicking in better now—out of Greenway’s house and onto the porch. He took a moment run back inside and grab the leatherbound book from where he’d dropped it on the floor when the explosion happened, shaking his head dizzily when he straightened again.

Pain throbbed dully behind his eyes, and he was still sweaty and panting, but he didn’t feel nearly as shaky as he was expecting to after using such intense magic. He was even able to slip himself and Tommy through the between and back into the car without much difficulty, though he had to take a moment to breathe through a flare of nausea once they were settled in the seats…him driving, of course.

“You gonna be able to manage?” Tommy asked urgently, reaching up like he was going to lay his hand on Evan’s shoulder before he seemed to realize just how bloody it was. Not that it would have made much difference. Thank God Tommy had let him borrow a few changes of clothes, because what he was wearing now was just as ruined as the previous set he’d been wearing.

He’d feel a little guilty about it, but Tommy was basically holding his own liver in place while the hole in his torso healed, so he doubted his vampire would care much about ruined clothes. He took another deep breath, silently assessing.

“Yeah. Uh, yeah, I’m all right,” he said, and couldn’t keep the note of surprise out of his voice. He…he really did feel pretty good, all things considering. His head hurt, but it didn’t feel like someone was trying to explore his ocular cavity with an ice pick the way it usually did when he strained himself. His heart wasn’t pounding painfully in his chest, and best of all, his magic didn’t feel depleted yet.

Sure, he wouldn’t be able to cast another control hex right now; probably wouldn’t be able to fire off more than a couple of weak fireballs. But he also didn’t feel like he was on the verge of passing out. It was strange…but he wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth.

“Are we going back to your house?” he asked as he accepted the bloody keys that Tommy dug out of his pocket with a slight grimace, wiping them on his pants leg before sticking them in the ignition.

“Not yet,” Tommy grunted. He looked down at his chest and probed at the wound, hissing out through his teeth. Pain had deepened the creases and lines on his handsome face, and he pressed his head back against the headrest as Evan drove, closing his eyes. “I want to go off-grid until this heals up.”

“How long is that gonna take?” Evan asked anxiously. He didn’t like the idea of Tommy being down for the count if they encountered anyone else on their tails, especially with his magic not at a hundred percent either.

He liked the idea of Tommy hurting even less.

“Few hours,” Tommy said, gritting his teeth as he reached around the seat and grabbed the hoodie he’d been going to use to cover himself as he ran for Greenway’s porch originally. He tore it into a couple of pieces and wadded one up, stuffing it against the wound in his chest with a grunt of pain. “Can you…” he started, leaning up a little and offering Evan the other part.

Realizing what his vampire wanted him to do, Evan took it without looking away from the road and quickly stuffed it against the entrance wound in Tommy’s back. “Uh, hate to tell you, but I don’t think the seats are salvageable at this point.”

Tommy huffed out a short laugh and immediately had to wipe the dribble of blood that spilled from his lips away. “I’ve been thinking about getting a truck for a while now, anyway. It’ll heal faster if I also don’t have to replace half my blood supply.” He was quiet a moment, and then said, “I’m going to need to hunt.” He sounded apologetic. “It’ll take hours to expel all the debris and close up the organ and muscle damage…bagged blood won’t cut it. I won’t—look, Evan, I won’t kill anyone. It’s been a long time since I killed anyone for blood. But yeah, I’m gonna need you to find a neighborhood where no one’s gonna mind anyone else’s business very hard. Once I get a couple of good drinks, we can grab some clean clothes, and—”

Evan saw an exit coming up on the highway. “Do you have any cash?” he interrupted. Tommy frowned, and then jerked his chin towards the glovebox.

“Few hundred in there. Why?”

Evan didn’t answer, instead taking the exit and following the signs past a few gas stations and fast food restaurants. Tommy watched him a moment, before leaning back against his seat again and closing his eyes, clearly trusting whatever Evan was planning to do. He frowned, though, when Evan pulled the car to a stop and he opened his eyes again to find that Evan had parked in front of a cheap-looking chain motel.

“Evan, whoa, we both look like we just we fucking murdered someone,” he said, his voice still rough and strained with pain.

“I got it,” Evan said quietly, before murmuring a simple spell—one most witches mastered by the time they were seven or eight years old. A brief rush of warm wind sprang up out of nowhere, swirling through the vehicle and around his body. The blood that had been drying into a tacky mess on his clothes, hands, and face dissolved into nothingness, and Evan was left just as clean as he’d been when they first arrived at Greenway’s house.

“That must save you a lot of money on laundry detergent,” Tommy said as Evan leaned over and opened the glovebox.

“It is nice not having to haul things down to a laundromat,” Evan agreed, digging around until he found a thick, manila envelope folded up under the car’s registration. He opened it to find several bundles of bills—small denominations and worn enough not to arouse suspicion—a leather wallet, and even a few passports from different countries. “This…seems a little paranoid,” he said, raising a questioning eyebrow at Tommy. His vampire shrugged one shoulder.

“It used to be important to be able to disappear…quickly. Supplies are different, but the habits haven’t changed.”

Sally used to talk like that. Evan nodded thoughtfully and counted out a couple hundred dollars in twenties and tens out of the stack of cash. “Be right back,” he said, and checked to make sure there was no one around who might see the absolute bloodbath the cabin of the vehicle had become before opening the door. He jogged across the parking lot and into the rundown lobby, where a bored-looking clerk sat behind the desk reading a celebrity magazine that looked to be about two years out of date.

“Hey, can I get a double for the night?” Evan asked, deliberately pulling out the stack of cash instead of his wallet. He knew how places like this worked—had taken advantage of them more times than he cared to count, especially in the first few months after he’d been banished.

“Gotta sign in,” the clerk said, completely ignoring the ancient computer next to him and shoving an old fashioned register across the counter. He did not ask for Evan’s ID. “All I’ve got left is a single, unless you wanna pay for a suite.”

Evan shot the clerk a deadpan look, well aware that ‘suite’ in a place like this just meant the hot water probably worked reliably and the carpet might get vacuumed more than once a month. “Single is fine,” he said, singing a completely random name on the register and counting out twenties on the counter until the clerk gave a satisfied grunt. It wasn’t like Tommy needed to sleep anyway.

The clerk handed an honest-to-God metal key dangling on a big plastic keychain over. “Room 106. Corner on the side facing the McDonald’s. Ice machine’s broken.”

“Shocking,” Evan said under his breath, but smiled politely when he took the key, making a mental note to check for bedbugs and be prepared to cast a more intense cleaning spell once he and Tommy got to the room.

That was less of a production than he was anticipating. The room was fortunately on the far corner of the motel, the cracked and weed-choked parking lot empty around them (right, only had a single available his ass) and the security cameras very obviously just for show. Evan cast a look-away charm over Tommy anyway, helping him into the room as quickly as possible and settling him down on the foot of the sagging bed.

The room was like every other no-tell motel room Evan had ever stayed in—dingy and smelling strongly of mildew. The only furniture was the aforementioned sagging bed—a full-sized mattress, at least, small mercies—a rickety table and chair, and a couple of nightstands on either side of the bed. Evan clicked the lamp sitting on one of them on and turned back to his vampire with a worried frown.

“All right,” Tommy said, grimacing as he plucked at the wadded up piece of sweatshirt still packed into the wound in his chest. Evan’s stomach turned a little at the sight of the bloodied hole—he hadn’t had time to examine it closely or even really think about what was happening until now. “As soon as the sun’s down, I’m going to head out and hunt…this should be mostly closed by then. We need to call Howie. And let’s look at the…fuck…” He broke off, hissing suddenly and hunching over.

“What?!” Evan demanded, stepping forward, his hand hovering uselessly over Tommy’s shoulder, afraid to touch him for fear of hurting him worse. Tommy shook his head.

“Debris. I think some splinters just punctured my liver again. God, I hate getting impaled.”

“That, uh, that happens a lot?” Evan’s mind was racing, his eyes glued to the way Tommy’s face was creased in pain.

“I feel like once is enough to decide getting impales sucks, but yeah…you live long enough, you get to experience the wide range of ways people can fuck each other up multiple times.” He sighed, cracking his neck back and forth a couple times in what Evan was coming to recognize was a nervous gesture. “How are you doing?”

“Me?” Evan blinked, confused. He wasn’t the one currently rebuilding his chest cavity.

“Your magic—Evan, you can’t tell me that wasn’t a major spell. And everything else you’ve done…” Tommy trailed off again, the lines on his brow deepening. It was concern this time, though, not pain.

“I don’t…uh, I’m not—” Evan looked down at his hands, flexing his fingers as he probed at the glow of magic in the back of his mind. He hadn’t taken the time to think things through at Greenway’s house. He had only reacted.

It was only after he’d dealt with the blond vampire that the thought of consequences had even occurred to him, and he’d waited for the effects of using so much magic to slam into him even as he concentrated on getting his vampire out of the house and into the car safely. That hadn’t happened, though. It still hadn’t happened. He didn’t exactly feel great…and he was definitely tapped out as far as major spells like the control hex and would be for a while. He was weakened far more than he would have been if he still had a coven bond to fall back on. But this didn’t feel any worse than a moderate hangover. He’d had worse headaches after some of Sally’s more intense training sessions.

“I’m okay,” he said finally, wonderingly.

Tommy narrowed his eyes, tilting his head slightly as he looked Evan up and down. “Are you sure?” he asked, doubt thick in his voice.

“I—yeah. Yeah, I’m sure.” He couldn’t explain it…but he wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth. Tommy stared at him, and he shifted uncomfortably before dropping down into the single chair by the round table that was the only other furniture in the room. The chair rattled ominously under his weight.

“I wasn’t just asking about your magic,” Tommy said quietly. “Are you okay?”

Evan froze, just blinking at his vampire stupidly a moment, before he let out a shuddering breath. How could…how could Tommy know… “I don’t feel guilty for what I did back there,” he admitted, his voice almost too quiet for his own ears. “I should, I know I should—”

“Absolutely not,” Tommy interrupted firmly. His words were still ragged, his voice tight with pain. But he stared at Evan steadily, nothing but absolute surety in his tone. “That was self-defense, Evan. Don’t think anything else. Those vampires would have killed me and taken you straight to Ortiz…you saved both our asses back there.”

Evan took a deep breath, looking down at his hands again. “I wanted to hurt them,” he said. “They…I never met any of the other witches Jo—Greenway was working with, but I, I, I know the reasons they must’ve had for going to him. And, and he killed them. Maybe he didn’t actually do it himself, but he let them die. He was going to let me die. And those vampires helped. I wanted them to hurt.”

He was angry. He was so incandescently angry at the people who were pulling on all the strings that had entangled him. Innocent witches had been killed, and for what? Politics? Because some vampire didn’t want to share power? Evan’s life hadn’t been that great, but it had been his. He’d been eking out a living, had almost made it to a point where he might have been able to start building something a little more permanent for himself, almost to the point where he might have been able to be…if not happy, at least content. And it had all been ripped away from him because of Ortiz, Greenway, and whoever else was working with them. Once again, he had a target on his back. Once again, he was being hunted for something he didn’t fucking do.

More than that, though…they could’ve killed Tommy right there. It was pure luck that the chunk of Greenway’s desk had missed his vampire’s heart. Tommy could have died right in front of him, and Evan was no longer startled by the wave of revulsion that washed through him at the thought, the way his magic stirred angrily at the back of his mind. He couldn’t let anything happen to Tommy; would not be able to bear it if anything happened to Tommy. He was done fighting the instinct.

“They deserved it,” Tommy said softly. Evan looked up at him, startled. “Don’t feel bad about wanting to hurt people who already hurt you. Who would’ve done worse if you’d let them. Would you have done that to them if they’d been willing to walk away and leave us alone?”

“What? No!” Evan sat up straight in the chair. “I’d never…that’s not what magic’s for!” I wouldn’t…”

It took him a moment to realize that Tommy had sat back slightly, and was just looking at him with an expression that made Evan’s stomach flip slightly. It was…soft. Softer than Evan thought he had seen his vampire’s face so far, a small smile on his lips that Evan could only describe as fond.

The effect was somewhat ruined by the blood that still smeared the corners of Tommy’s mouth, but it still made Evan fall silent.

“That’s why you shouldn’t feel guilty,” he said simply. “You’re a good man, Evan. But that doesn’t mean you can never show your teeth.”

How many times had Sally tried to drive the same sort of lesson home to him?

Before he could respond, though, Tommy shuddered, cursing to himself in a language that Evan couldn’t identify as he suddenly dropped the piece of sweatshirt he’d been holding against the wound in his chest. “Damn it, give me a minute,” he hissed, before he squared his shoulders and dug his fingers into the still gaping hole in his chest.

“Tommy!” Evan leaped to his feet, but Tommy just shook his head, rooting around in the meat of the wound, a grotesque, wet sound filling the room until he pulled what looked like a clump of bloody tissue from his chest. He held it up, and Evan realized with a flash of horrified disgust that it was another chunk of wood.

“Goddamn it,” Tommy groaned, dropping the bloody mess on the floor between his feet. “How much longer ‘til sunset?”

“Couple hours,” Evan said distractedly. He bit his lip, looking at his vampire—the tired slump of his shoulders, the lines of pain that creased his handsome face. Tommy was hurt…and until he healed more, he was in greater danger. They both were, really. And Tommy was going to have to go out to…to hunt. If he wasn’t going to kill anyone—and Evan believed him when he said it—he would have to be out longer.

Tommy was hurting.

“Would witch blood heal you faster?” he asked.

It was Tommy’s turn to freeze. He went still as a statue, his blue eyes boring into Evan’s before flicking down to his throat and back. “Evan,” he breathed out. “No. I’m not going to ask you to do that.”

Evan took that to mean that the answer was yes.

He swallowed, and again Tommy’s eyes zeroed in on the bob of his throat. “You’re not asking. I’m offering.” He stood up, and took a step towards his vampire, who still sat frozen, staring up at him with wide eyes.

Whatever spell held Tommy still shattered, and he shuddered again, though this time Evan didn’t think it had to do anything with the pain of his wound. He took a deep breath, as though scenting the air around Evan, his hand twitching upwards before curling into a fist and slamming back down on the bed.

“Are you sure?” Tommy said, his voice low and rough, almost a growl. Evan’s stomach flipped again, a shiver running through him that he wasn’t sure he was ready to examine too closely.

“You can do it without hurting me, right?” Evan asked, and now Tommy reached for him, pulling back with a grimace of distaste when he remembered the bloody mess he was.

“I’d never hurt you,” he said, a fervency curling through every word that made it sound like a promise. A vow.

Evan breathed out, his magic humming through him in wild approval. “Then let me help you,” he said.

Tommy’s eyes sheened over with scarlet light, before he visibly reined himself back in. He looked down at his bloody hands and held them up towards Evan almost beseechingly. “I—can you?”

With a small smile, Evan murmured the spell, his vampire’s hands whisking clean in a matter of seconds. Immediately, Tommy reached for him, curling one hand around Evan’s wrist, loosely at first and then tightening when Evan made no move to pull away. He tugged lightly, drawing Evan closer.

“How do you want to do this?” Evan asked, “Um, are you gonna—” He made a gesture towards his neck and was surprised when Tommy instantly shook his head.

“No. No, not there,” he said, his tone brooking no argument. His hand tightened on Evan’s wrist again, his thumb brushing gently over the pulsepoint. It was strange. He knew, intellectually, that Tommy could crush his wrist into powder with barely any effort…could throw him down and drain him dry, and Evan wasn’t sure if he’d be able to defend himself against it.

But Tommy wouldn’t do that to him. He knew it; down to the marrow of his bones he knew it.

Tommy would never hurt him.

He nodded his permission to Tommy’s unasked question. The red glow grew brighter in his vampire’s eyes, eclipsing the blue entirely, and when Tommy spoke again, Evan could see the hint of fangs in his mouth.

“Lie down. I won’t take much, I promise. But just in case.” Tommy let go of him, getting painfully to his feet so that they could trade places.

Evan grabbed the bloodstained comforter off the bed and tossed it to the floor. He was mildly surprised to see the sheets underneath appeared to have been laundered recently…at least there were no creepy-crawlies waiting for him. He kicked his shoes off and stretched out on the mattress, looking up when he heard Tommy swallow roughly.

“God, Evan,” Tommy murmured, so low Evan wasn’t entirely sure he was meant to hear it. “Thank you,” he said, louder, before slowly sitting down on the edge of the bed next to Evan’s hip. “I—it won’t feel like it did at Gerrard’s party without the thrall,” he warned. “I could put you back under,” he offered uncertainly, but Evan could tell he didn’t really like the idea. Truthfully, Evan didn’t either, remembering the helpless way he’d rutted up against his vampire’s body under the effects of the thrall with a blush. He shook his head.

“It’s all right,” he said. “Just take what you need.” He offered his hand up, and had to look away when Tommy slowly took it, something disbelieving and tender in his red, red eyes.

“I can stop myself,” he promised. “If it starts to hurt too much, or you start to feel dizzy or sick, just tell me.”

“I trust you, Tommy,” Evan said, and knew in his heart that it was absolutely true.

Tommy closed his eyes and pulled Evan’s hand closer to his mouth, inhaling against the soft skin of his inner wrist with a quiet groan. “Evan,” he murmured, his name sounding like a fucking prayer in his vampire’s mouth.

Then Tommy bit down, sinking his fangs into Evan’s wrist.

[five-rivers]

Cracked Clay Cup Chapter 3

Short one! @greatbigolhampuckjustforme

.

She was doing it.  She was doing it.  She was convincing him.  She’d been dubious about the whole endeavor.  Dubious about its necessity, dubious about her ability to pull it off, dubious about basically becoming Danny’s parent, everything.

But, well, if it was what needed to be done, it was what she would do.  

She’d freaked out at first, of course.  Hearing about it.  Hearing about how many people wanted to take Danny, who’d take advantage of him like that.  Hearing about what she’d need to do to keep that from happening.  Maybe she and Danny joked about her raising him, but it really wasn’t true.  

But then it was happening, regardless of whether or not Danny or Jazz wanted it to happen.  And their parents were… Well, they hadn’t been disqualified, but Jazz knew they took a lot of getting used to.  She didn’t have high hopes that they would be Danny’s choice.  

Jazz, then, would offer another option.  Even if Danny picked randomly, two ‘safe’ choices were better than one.  He wouldn’t pick randomly, though.  He might be exasperating at times, but he was a decent judge of character.  She was sure he could sense her intentions, mentions of mad science labs aside.  

Considering those questions, her parents definitely wouldn’t be getting him again.  It was fine.  It was all for the best, really.

Really.  Things would be better.  After.  After all of this was done.  

She smiled at herself in the bathroom mirror.  No need to bother Danny with her brooding.  He’d been here for a week now, and things were going great.  

She walked out, stopped by her study, then swung by her study to pick up a few papers before going to the kitchen.  Danny was sitting at the table there, working on schoolwork.  It’d do no good if she got custody and everything turned out alright on the Danny custody front only for him to completely fail high school!  

Okay, that wasn’t entirely true.  

Still.  She didn’t want this to set back his education.  

“Okay, once you finish the English, I have the social studies.”

Danny looked up at her.  “You can’t be serious.”

“I’m always going to take your education seriously, Danny.  It’s important that you stay on track to graduate.”

“I still think that’s sort of redundant for a ghost.”

“Half ghost.”

“I still haven’t seen any evidence about that by the way.”

“Well you would if you transformed.”

“And I’d do that, if you actually describe how I’m supposed to do that.”

“Well, you sort of just did it.”  Danny had never given her a lot of details about what being half ghost felt like, or how it worked mechanically.  Even though she’d asked.  It was awfully inconvenient of him.  

Danny shook his head and looked back at his homework.  He tapped his pencil on the table a few times, then looked at the top page of the social studies work.  

“A presentation?” he asked.  

Jazz nodded.  “It can be in poster form if you’d like.”

Danny sucked in his lower lip and nodded.  “But this is it, right?  This is all you want me to do?”

“Well, that and the English essay you have under here.”

Danny pulled out that sheet of paper and grimaced.  “You– That’s really– No.  No.  Nope.  No.  This is way too much.  You can’t expect me to do all this, this much every day.”

“It’s a totally normal high school workload.  Seven classes–”

“Doesn’t that normally include PE?  And, like, a study hall?  Or something fun?  Maybe?”  He ran his hands through his hair, which had a really strange and fascinating effect on his ears.  

“You have astronomy and science, you like that.”

“But I still need to use my brain for it.  I’m talking about things I can turn my brain off for.  Or whatever it is that ghosts think with.  Whatever it is, it’s making my head hurt.  I can’t keep going at this pace.  I’ll lose it.”

“Don’t be so down on yourself.  You can do this.  And you do have a brain.”

“You sound very sure of that.”

She’d walked right into Danny’s mad science paranoia again.

“Humans have brains.  It’s common sense.”

Danny’s eyes flicked down Jazz’s carefully formulated English assignment once again, and he shook his head.  “No.  I can’t do this.  Not any longer.  It’s been a week.”  He dropped the paper.  “It’s been a week, and there are six other people to talk to, so, thanks for the cool bedroom and not dissecting me but–”

“Danny, wait–” said Jazz, seeing where this was going a split second before Danny raised his hand to the pocketwatch.  

She was too late. Danny clicked the button, and he was gone.  

“Well,” said Jazz.  She sat down at the kitchen table, feeling heavy.  “Crap.”

[deluluangell]

i'll always wait for you.

basically pure miguel x reader smut. little fluff at end duhh. 1697 words.

contains masterbation, dry humping, split pov (splits at -----), cussing etc. 18+

this was my first time writing smut + i'm not a writer. saur don't be mean...

NSFW below the cut... enjoy babes !!

° ♡ • ➵ ✩ ◛ °

the battle against sleep was one i rarely lost; staying up countless nights waiting for him. but tonight sleep threatened to take over me, making my eyelids droopy and my head heavy. still, i pressed on.

i glanced up and admired as the moon lit up the sky, taking note of how it was projecting its milky rays throughout my apartment. a soft july wind drifted through my open window, thick and full with the muffled sounds of city life after dark. despite the picturesque environment enveloping me, i couldn’t help but feel unsatisfied. everything meant nothing if you weren’t here to experience it with me.

i craned my neck, taking in the city around me as i frantically searched for one thing. miguel. it had been weeks since i’d seen him, touched him, tasted him. i didn’t want to seem pathetic, but i was definitely getting desperate.

i sat on the windowsill, so the light wind was directly blowing through my hair and softly kissing my face. my fingers traced the wood absently, my mind was obviously far away from here. 

“cariño.”

i frowned and tilted my head up at the familiar sound, squinting back out into the night sky. 

i heard an exasperated sigh.

“behind you.” 

“oh.”

i breathed. glancing over my shoulder, i immediately knew it was him. miguel was leaning on the doorframe, looking down at me. although the room was only lit from the moon rays, i could still manage to make out and admire the angular beauty of his face.

“miguel.” unsure of what to say, i cleared my throat and tucked my hair behind my ears. “nice to uh, see you i guess.”

“…i guess?” he sighed, stepping forward slightly. i turned away again, my back now facing him. although i had been longing for him to come, now that he was here all i felt was… anger.

“why are you here?” i whispered, and it was almost like i was asking the night sky instead. “i… i’ve been meaning to see you. work’s just been so busy, and it’s hard to get the time.” i heard the soft padding of feet on the hardwood floor and then felt his tall frame looming over mine. he softly placed his hands on my shoulders, massaging softly.

“mami… let me make it up to you.” his voice was thick like honey.

i allowed myself to sink into his touch slightly, getting somewhat lost in the sensation. miguel’s hands were like magic, squeezing all the right places. it reminded me of all the more… explicit things they could do.

“mm. feels good.” i breathe, squirming on the windowsill. i could practically taste his smirk as he continued to please me with his hands. but i couldn’t let him get cocky. he couldn’t know i was as desperate as i was for him.

“oh yeah?” 

aaand that’s enough of that. can’t have him know i could get off to the mere rasp of his voice. i slowly pulled myself away from his grasp, slipping off the windowsill and now standing behind him, crossing my arms to make sure i looked as serious as possible.

“miguel. seriously. you can’t keep doing this, leaving me like this, and coming back randomly and just expecting me to fall right back into your arms.”

i protested, and it wasn’t completely a lie. sure, it pained me to not see miguel for weeks on end, but whenever i saw him again it felt like i could melt into a puddle under his soft gaze. but still. whatever this was, it wasn’t good enough. i needed him all the time.

-----

your gaze was intoxicating. the way you looked up at me with those big eyes and that little frown… my cock was already half hard at the mere sight.

“mierda. please…” i didn’t even know exactly what i was asking for. all i knew was that i needed to be close to you, to feel your warmth surrounding me. i had spent weeks fisting myself like an animal to the mere thought of your small little body and fuck, i was getting desperate now. i bit down on my lip, attempting to conceal my fangs which had just conveniently retracted. 

with each step you took toward me, my cock lazily throbbed. 

“miguel… hello? are you even listening to me right now.”

i grunted in response, my eyes glossed over as i took you in. your hair was strewn down your back, tangled from the wind. you were wearing an old shirt of mine which you practically drowned in.

“oh… oh.” you cocked your head, fighting back a smile as you looked up at me. it seemed like you were mustering up your courage as you took a deep breath in.

after what seemed like an eternity just taking each other in, 

“what… wanna fuck me or something?” you breathed, rubbing the back of your neck.

i stepped towards you, closing the gap between us. 

“please mami. never needed you more.” 

-----

hearing him so desperate for me, almost begging me to touch him made me flood with arousal. i suppressed a moan at his words, and using all my self control, i slowly stepped back. 

“touch yourself then. for me.”

his eyes widened at my request, and i swear i could see him swallow. i knew what i was asking was bold and somewhat embarrassing, but i needed to see. i needed to know how much he needed me.

he slowly nodded, clearly lost for words. he trailed his hand down his chest, wincing as he reached his crotch. i could see it now, his rock-hard cock, desperate for attention. his spider-suit didn’t leave much to the imagination. he hissed as he palmed himself, clearly relishing the relief. 

my mouth was dry as i watched him, and i felt my own core throbbing, watching this huge man get off using his own hand. thinking about me. 

“feel good, baby?” 

he nodded as he gasped for air, humping his palm whilst taking me in.

“ye-yeah. just need to see more. please. been m-missing you like fucking crazy.” he almost pleaded, throwing his head back.

i know i was supposed to be mad or holding a grudge against him or whatever, but who am i to say no to such a polite request?

silently i took off my shirt, pulling it slowly, almost tantalisingly over my tits. i stripped off my shorts next, leaving only my panties on.

-----

i almost cum when you strip, seeing your perfect fucking tits all perky and hard for me. with your shorts off, the smell of your arousal flooded the room and invaded all my senses. 

“fuuckkk, mami, you’re gonna make me cum.” 

swallowing hard, i tried to control myself, tried to not cum in my pants like a teenager. but the way you were looking at me, the way you were so wet just made me so horny. this was so fucking embarrassing. i groaned as i palmed myself, trying to think of what to do next. 

hold you down and finger you until you see stars? 

have you ride my face until you’re squirting?

fuck you from behind with my hand around your neck?

or, my personal favourite option, breed you until you’re crying and begging for me to stop.

but my mind went blank and a string of moans fell out of me when you looked up at me through thick eyelashes, lust written all over your face.

-----

“need to see your cock now. take it out.” i begged, feeling my hands slip into my panties to run my fingers over my slick folds.

at that moment i was fully convinced the sight of miguel taking his thick length out was heaven-sent. standing thick, tall and proud, coated in pre-cum, miguel’s cock practically begged for my attention. my legs squeezed together as i took in the holy sight, and after whipping off my panties i inserted two fingers into my heat, humping my own hand desperately. whimpering, i looked up at you, biting my lip. 

“b-been thinking about this… been fantasising about you fucking me, touching myself the nights when you were away.”

“oh yeah? been fingering your own tight little pussy mi vida? missing the way i fucked you dumb?” 

i moaned at his words, slipping another finger in as i desperately tried to replicate the feel of miguel’s thick cock. 

“gonna… gonna cum too.”

-----

“that’s right, cum for me mami.” i was squeezing my cock impossibly tight, imagining it was your heat wrapped around me instead. but this wasn’t enough. i needed to finish against you, at least. 

“fuck this. c’mere.” i said, losing patience. i stepped behind you and grabbed your waist, burying my face in your neck and bucking my hips against you, losing myself in the pleasure.

“ah. fuck. sorry, amor. had to feel you against me. just let me finish, okay?” i almost begged.

you didn’t protest as i slid my cock between your thighs and nestled the tip at your clit. i thrusted furiously, relishing the warmth and wetness of you. my hands desperately palmed your tits, tugging at your hard little nipples.

“g-gonna cum miguel.” you whimpered from underneath me, your small body bouncing on mine.

-----

my eyes rolled to the back of my head as miguel humped me furiously from behind. every thrust had his tip hitting my clit just right, and i quickly became a moaning mess.

“miguel… fuck… cumming. ‘m cumming.” i choked.

i felt him thrust between my thighs a few more times, his pace becoming sloppy and harsh as he chased his high.

“mami. you feel so good, cumming too.” he moaned and bit at my neck as he came, coating my thighs with his thick load. 

i sighed, leaning back against him as i caught my breath. his cock was still nestled safely between my thighs, and he was still thrusting softly, clearly addicted to the bliss.

“you did so good, miguel. missed you so much.”

he smiled whilst looking down at me. 

“hey… i’m sorry. seriously. there’s nowhere else i’d rather be than here, in your arms mi amor. i promise you i’ll be here more. you’re my priority okay?” he traced my features, frantically searching my eyes.

i sighed, knowing his promise wasn’t exactly empty… just difficult to fulfil. i turned around so i was facing him, and kissed him softly. 

“miguel… i’ll always wait for you.”

[average-kitty]

Complete Bliss 💕

p2!

Warnings: Lanuage

Summary: A rough day at work turns for the best

word count: 2k

Some people may call you crazy, which is completely understandable but how could you not be a little crazy for being in love with this girl? She seemed perfect, sweet, quiet, put together, knew how to take a stand for herself… The kind of girl who would put you in your place if necessary, your kind of girl. You always wanted to try and talk to her after class or even in class but- you just couldn’t, that little interaction all those weeks ago was all you could manage for a little while- which was pretty sad for anyone who was watching from the sidelines, but you didn’t care- maybe watching from afar was better than actually trying to do anything and accidentally ruining it.

But of course, some people wouldn’t let that slide- “You're STILL not talking to her?! Not even saying hi and bye in classes or the hallways?!-“ Your friend screamed through the phone speakers, making you jerk the phone away from your ear- You two had been friends for a while even though neither of you had even met in person, you two were like best friends. “It’s not even that serious-“ “IT IS!-“ she squealed, making you lower your phone again, rolling your eyes with a soft scoff before placing the phone near your ear again “Your insane.” “You're insane for letting opportunities like that slip everyday!” She hissed through the phone as you chuckled softly “Piper it’ll happen when it needs to…” “Well it needs to happen sooner Y/N, i'm getting hella inpatient. If you don’t make a move yourself I’m gonna fly my ass over and MAKE something happen!-""OKAY BYE PIPER I HAVE WORK-“ You hung up the phone and sighed,rolling your eyes before groaning. You knew Piper was right about you needing to make a move but you just weren’t sure if it was the right time.

You sat up on your bed, rubbing your head before setting your phone down on your mattress and getting up and walking to your closet grabbing a random shirt off its hanger and slipping out of your school clothes and into the older shirt for work. You walked over to your dresser and grabbed a pair of shorts before grabbing your phone off your bed and checked the time- you were late. “SHIT-“ you quickly shoved your phone into your pocket and stumbled over your feet, hitting the floor with a light thud- groaning out of pain and frustration before grabbing your shoes and pulling them on. Sure you were terrible at keeping track of time, courtesy of Piper- but you knew how to hurry when necessary. You rush out of the door and find yourself running half a mile and bursting through the back door of your work- panting heavily as you let your head hang, before looking up and meeting the eyes of one of your favorite coworkers- Sam.

“Geez what’s got you practically dying?-“ Sam questioned with a small chuckle as you groaned.

“I was running late- I had to run over here again…” You mumbled as Sam gave you a small sad smile.

“If you keep showing up late you know Rachel is gonna fire you right?-“ Sam questioned as she set down the box she was carrying and walked over to you and tried to help you fix the mess of yourself you had made in your hurry to get over there.

“Yeah, but Piper kept me longer than I was expecting-“ You responded as you face scrunched at Sam licking her finger and wiping away some of your leftover mascara that had smeared, earning a chuckle from her.

“She seems to do that a lot.” Sam replied calmly, as you gave a light nod, putting your hair up in a lazy bun and sighing softly.

“She’s my best friend Sam, we live too far apart for me to just not talk to her one day-“ 

“Your being too sweet.” Sam replied as you roll your eyes.

“We’re practically married okay? I have to give her some sort of attention.” You retorted with a small whine, as you clipped on your name tag and put on the stupid apron you were required to wear.

“Yeah yeah, since you were late you can go reorganize the shoes for me.” Sam said as she picked up the boxes she had put down earlier.

You almost wished you didn’t run all the way from your apartment to work- you hated reorganizing the shoes… but you gave Sam a nod and walked out of the employee break room and over to the shoe aisle- your eyes widening in the amount of dread and horror you were feeling. The aisles were in complete disarray, shoes on the floor, shoes mismatched, just about everything that would need to be fixed, needed to be fixed. You groan and swear under your breath before you begin to pick up all the shoes not on the shelves and in their boxes. It was gonna be a long afternoon…

What felt like 3 hours of picking up after all those inconsiderate people you were finally done, sweating a bit but satisfied with yourself. Sam walked past and saw the large smile on your face and snorted softly, walking over to you and placing a hand on your shoulder.

“Surprised you actually did it, looks a lot better.” You gave a nod and continued to smile and your work before turning around to look at Sam.

“I’m gonna go work at the register.” Sam gave a nod as you walked off to the register, flipping up the slab of wood that closed off the register to customers and took a seat at an open register, sighing softly. Most of the customers were manageable for the rest of the day, you were getting ready to leave for the day but one woman walked up to your register to set down her basket, you turned to look at her before biting at the insides of your cheeks but you began to scan her items. Down to the last few things you stumbled onto an unmarked bag, raising a brow as you grabbed it, looking on every side and even on the inside of the bag for a price tag but you couldn’t find it. You looked over to the computer at your side and looked up the bag’s brand- it wasn't there, which either meant it was new in stock hadn't been put out or she had put her bag in by accident. But it couldn’t be a accident- 

“Ma’am I can’t check this out for you…” You turned to look at her, as her brows narrowed.

“Yes you can!” She hissed, her voice was extremely bitter and made you flinch back a bit.

“There’s no price tag, and I can’t find it in our stock…” you mumbled, making the woman even anger, raising her voice even more.

“Then just give it to me!” “That’s against our policy, you went into the back and grabbed this bag. I'm going to have to ask you to leave…” You whimpered.

The woman seemed even more furious as she slammed her fist on the counter “DO YOU KNOW WHO I AM?!-“ She growled, you were going to respond but she kept going. This continued for the next few minutes before Rachel,your manager stepped in. Luckily she was able to get the woman to leave but you weren’t able to leave early which was incredibly unfair. But you had to suck it up, you were muttering to yourself and cussing out Rachel for making you stay as you set the bag under the counter then- 

“Hello?-“ that sweet and familiar voice rang out, you immediately shot up- slamming your head on the bottom of the counter that sat the register on top, making you groan in pain as you lifted up completely- rubbing your head. Meeting Tara’s eyes, ones filled with worry for your voiced pain. 

“Oh my gosh, are you okay?!-“ She yelped as you tried to laugh off the pain, wincing at the new bruise forming on your head.

“Yeah I'm okay… uh- if you could just hand me your basket I’ll get that checked out for you..!” You nervously squeaked up, Tara nodding and handing you her basket. You took out the various pairs of sweats,hoodies, crop tops, and a bunch of other clothes and scanned all of them, your eyes trying to peer up to look up Tara but your mind refused to allow it. You finished scanning her items and bagged them up before leaning over to the register and reading the number out loud for her-

“135.45$, Uh cash or credit?” You looked up from the register and offered her a smile, which she returned to your surprise and spoke up with a soft giggle. 

“Credit, my sister works here so I should get a 15% discount.” Your eyes widened a bit as you turned the card reader to her for her to stick her card in.

“Oh really? W-well who’s your sister?” You questioned as curiosity ran through your voice, as you watched her hand move over to Sam- your eyes widening.

“Sam, you know her right?” You glanced back to Tara as she was smiling at you, making you give a nod.

“Y-yeah!- she’s a good friend of mine actually!” Tara hummed in response as you grabbed her recipient for her, looking for some way to try and keep the conversation going.

“Say, you're in Film Study right? We should compare notes sometime, i-i struggle with the class a little bit.” You're lying, you love that class more than anything when it comes to taking note of the small details, but it was an excuse nonetheless. Tara glanced up to you as she grabbed her bags of clothes, shrugging lightly.

“Maybe, I mean it’d be good for both of us.” You tried so hard to hide your smile as you give a nod.

“Yeah! Maybe tomorrow in class or some other time? I get off of work at 6-“

Suddenly she cut you off- “I said maybe.” 

You felt like you had overstepped a boundary you didn’t even know existed yet, you kept your smile to try and seem un-bothered but the hurt was clear in your voice.

“O-oh yeah- sorry, Makes sense.” You chuckled as you handed her recipient to her,Tara taking it in her own hand as your fingers grazed her, sending butterflies through your body. You swallow nervously as you get ready to leave for the day, another coworker walking up to take your register before Tara called out to you.

“Hey, maybe isn’t a no. I’ll think about it.” You turned your head slightly as she walked out, a wide smile spreading across your face as you tried to keep yourself from squealing, practically skipping back to the break room. You took off your apron and name tag, stuffing them both in your locker as Sam walked in, making you freeze in your tracks. 

“What’s got you all excited?” She scoffed, looking you up and down, as you turned around.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about!- anyways I’ve gotta go! See you tomorrow Sammy!” You bolted out the back door, before quickly coming back and grabbing your phone.

“Sorry I forgot this-“ before Sam could even get a word in, you slammed the door again- she didn’t get what sparked your sudden change in attitude but she was sure it was for some good reason. You walked down the street to your apartment,smiling the whole way as you blew up Piper’s phone- sending a text every other second as you tried to get home as quickly as possible. You rush to the elevator of your apartment building and rush in, quickly stepping in as you continue to blow up Piper’s phone, praying to god she hadn’t fallen asleep. As you stepped in your apartment room Piper finally responded, giving you the go ahead to call her- she sounded groggy and pissed off.

“Why did you send me 186 texts….. this better be good-“ she muttered.

“It is! Remember how we were talking about Tara earlier today? Well something happened-“ you were about to drop the bomb that you had gotten a date of sorts with Tara but Piper’s idea of what happened was completely different from what you expected…

“DID YOU TWO FUCK?!-“ She practically screamed as your face flushed a deep red.

“PIPER!-“ You hissed, covering your face with your hands. “WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?!-“

“Wait was I wrong?” She squeaked.

“WELL DUH-“

did you guys like this one?-

[jxfndm]

JEREMIAH FISHER X FEM! READER - FLUFF

“im right here with you”

warnings! - dni if youre uncomfortable with: alcohol mentions, mentions of pregnancy

quick a/n - THIS WAS IN MY HEADDDDDD and its just such a cute idea lol, enjoy <3

jeremiah fisher

"Baby, you sure you’re feeling alright?" I questioned Y/N. She looked pale and just not like herself.

She gave me a look, one signaling to stop asking her. I’d been asking her on the car ride over and at home. The past few days she’s been feeling tired and nauseous. The thing about Y/N is that she’ll tough out any sickness because she hated worrying me.

"Jere, I’m fine. I told you, I just think the dinner from the other night was a little old. That’s all." she stated blankly, giving me a half reassuring smile. I sighed, rubbing the top of her hand before nodding my head.

I was determined to find out what’s wrong. But maybe she’ll feel better after seeing Belly, that was her best friend. Girls time always made her feel better.

We were at Belly’s 21st, and everyone was here. It was nice to be around the gang again, especially because it was here in Cousin’s. Me and Y/N moved to our own place at the beginning of the year and haven’t had a chance to come down till now. This was nice.

"I’m going to grab a beer, do you want anything? Even a water?" I asked, my voice raised over the blaring music. Y/N smiled before responding, "Just water."

I nodded, as I walked over to the cooler. By the time I had arrived back into the living room, I had seen Belly and Y/N sitting on the couch. She was beaming, but still looked off. Maybe she just needed some space, it wouldn’t hurt to catch up with Con and Steven anyway.

I walked over and handed Y/N the bottle of water as I rubbed her shoulder. She gave me a smile and mouthed a “thank you”.

I leaned down to her ear, "I’m gonna find the guys. Just text me if you need anything."

She nodded and gave me a quick peck before settling back unto her conversation with Belly. I quickly greeted Belly as I walked off to find the guys. I just hoped Y/N was okay.

y/n

I had been talking to Belly for all of 5 minutes after Jeremiah left before I felt the need to throw up. I had done that quite a few times lately.

Quickly, I barged into the bathroom closest to us, emptying myself over the toilet. Tears brimmed my eyes, and exhaustion took over me quickly. I hated this, that seafood from our dinner a few days ago was probably expired for months.

I felt a hand rub at the smalls of my back. Turning, I was surprised to be met with Belly, who gave me a small smile. I grabbed toilet paper to wipe the sides of my mouth and flushed. I sat and turned towards her as she handed me my water bottle.

"Dude, are you okay?" she asked, cocking her eyebrow at me. I looked at her and then at the open door behind her. She quickly got up and locked it, kneeling back down in front of me.

Belly was my best friend, practically since birth. My mom, Susannah, and Laurel had all gone to the same college and raised all of us like one big family. If there’s one person I knew I would have trouble lying to, it was the beautiful birthday girl in front of me. I felt bad, she was here in her cute lavender dress and should be out there enjoying herself.

"It’s nothing, probably food poisoning," I said, closing my eyes as I took a small swig of water. Belly placed her hand gently on my kneecap. I opened my eyes to meet her serious ones.

"Y/N, you don’t have to lie to me. And don’t feel bad either. I just want to make sure my best friend is okay. You’ve been throwing up for almost a week. What’s going on?" she questioned seriously. I took a deep breath.

"I’m late on my period. And the sickness has been constant. I haven’t tested though, mainly because I’m scared. I don’t know how ready me and Jere are for a baby, that’s just kind of a lot for me right now," I explained, my eyes watering at the thought. The hormones were definitely out of control.

"Y/N! Oh my God, you have to test! Why are you even doubting anything, Jere has been madly in love with you since he was like 7. You need to find out and tell him, that’s the right thing to do!" Belly exclaimed, holding my hand.

"I know, but-" I started, but Belly quickly cut me off by standing up and rummaging through the sink cabinets. She pulled out a box.

Quickly, I realized what it was and gave her a look.

"I use it for scares with Conrad. But you have to take one, and I’ll be here with you. I know you’re scared, but you have to know. Plus, Jere will only buy your water excuse for another hour before he wonders why you won’t toast shots with us." she explained, handing over the pink and white box.

I rolled my eyes and rubbed my temples. Was I really about to do this? Fuck.

"Fine. I’ll test. Turn around." I stated, earning a wide smile from Belly.

Belly quickly turned around as I pulled a stick from the box, unwrapping it and hovering over it on the toilet. I peed quickly and put the cap over it, turning it face down onto the counter as I cleaned up.

"Can I turn around now?" Belly whined, her arms crossed. I flattened my dress out, "Yeah, go ahead. I turned it face down, we can check in three."

She turned around and gave me a big hug. I exhaled deeply into the hug, worried about what this would mean for my relationship with Jere. I didn’t want to start thinking until I saw the test, but it was hard not to.

Me and Belly sat in the bathroom in silence. I fiddled with my fingers as she would occasionally look over and scroll through her phone. Her timer went off and suddenly, panic filled my body.

"It’s time," she whispered, starting to get up from the side of the tub. I took a deep breath as she waited for me to get up. I couldn’t believe this.

I felt like I was going in slow motion, but eventually made it to the counter. I closed my eyes and reached for the test. Belly waited impatiently, but stayed quiet throughout.

I finally felt the test flip over in my hand. I opened my eyes and couldn’t believe what I was looking at. Tears welled in my eyes and I suddenly couldn’t hold it together anymore.

Positive. I’m pregnant.

I slid down the wall with the test in my hands and sobbed into my knees. Belly knelt down in front of me and pulled me in, rubbing my back as I breathed heavily into my cries.

"Y/N, it’s going to be okay, I promise." she comforted, but all I could do was continue crying. I sat there, in shock and a mess. My makeup was definitely fucked up now, and I knew I couldn’t hide it from Jeremiah. I couldn’t lie much longer, especially now that Belly knew. Jere had every right to know.

"I have to tell him," I sniffled, dabbing under my eyes with the toilet paper. Belly smiled softly and nodded.

"Want me to get him?" Belly questioned. I thought about it, and ultimately decided I was way too embarrassed to walk out there looking like a mess, especially since I wasn’t too sure who I’d be running into. I nodded in response, resulting in Belly to leave with her phone and close the bathroom door.

I felt choked up, this felt like a dream. I wasn’t sure how to feel, other than the fact that I was worried about every outcome possible. Would he be upset? Would he leave? Would I have to raise this kid all by myself?

My thoughts were quickly interrupted with a soft knock at the door. I wiped my tears once more and tried my best to pull myself together. This was it. God help me.

I ooened the door to face a worried Jere.

"Y/N Belly told me to- what’s wrong? What happened?" he questioned worriedly as he saw my face. His hands immediately dropped into mine as he pushed us into the bathroom. He locked the door behind him as he sat me on the tub. I assumed Belly was giving us space, hence why she didn’t show up with him.

I fiddled with my dress pocket, twisting the test between my fingers. I took a deep breath as I looked at him, tears slowly dropping. He was everything to me, and the idea of this test changing everything for us made me sick. I couldn’t lose him, I didn’t want to.

"Jere, I’m so sorry," I whispered, as I silently cried again. He was kneeling in front of me as he pulled me into his chest and rubbed my back.

"Y/N, there’s nothing to be sorry for. What’s going on? I’m worried about you," he stated as he pulled away, gently rubbing my sides as he looked at me cluelessly. I knew I couldn’t drag it out.

I pulled the test out of my pocked and handed it to him, saying, "Jeremiah, I’m pregnant."

I looked at him for what felt like ages. He looked at the test quietly, as shock filled his expression. I couldn’t help but cry again, feeling like I’d absolutely lost him.

Surprisingly, he engulfed me into a deep, passionate kiss. I kissed back, shock settling into my body. He pulled away with the biggest smile on his face, rubbing my cheeks.

"Y/N, this is the best fucking news ever." he said, chuckling as he took both my hands. I had stopped crying and just looked at him.

Stuttering, I finally managed a "I-it is?"

He nodded, his smile growing bigger. In turn, it made me smile. I looked at him as he squeezed my hands.

"We’re gonna be parents. I’m gonna be a dad. Holy fuck Y/N!" he exclaimed as he got up, still holding my hands. I got up from the tub, a small giggle escaping my mouth.

"I was so scared you’d leave." I blurted, leaning my head against his chest. It was warm and felt like home. It was everything I’d ever want it to be.

"Baby, I would never leave you. Not in a million fucking years. Please don’t ever think that. I want to do everything in life with you, no matter what it is. You don’t have to be scared, because I’m right here with you." he said, cupping my cheek and bringing my chin up to face him. I smiled as he leaned in.

We kissed again, this time, it felt different. More meaningful. I was going to raise our first child with him. I couldn’t help but feel all sorts of excitement.

We pulled apart, as I melted into his arms again. "I love you so fucking much Y/N," he said.

I smiled as I looked at him. "Well, we love you more." I responded, looking down at my stomach as he laid his hand gently on top of it.

He gave me a forehead kiss as he rubbed my stomach softly and knelt down to give it a kiss. He was adorable.

"Want to get back to the party? Or we could go home, whatever you want, my love." he offered. I shook my head.

"Let’s stay a bit, then we can tell everyone another time this week." I suggested, earning a nod from Jeremiah.

As we exited the bathroom, we did just that. We stayed long enough to see Belly blow out her candles. I suddenly felt tired and nauseous and called it quits, so we went back home to our apartment.

We told our families and prepared over the next few months for our baby’s arrival. Everyone was extremely excited. We chose not to find out the gender till birth, and I’m so glad we did.

Elliana Susannah Fisher was born on February 20th at 1:24pm. She was perfect in every way, and had every feature of mine and Jere’s that made us fall in love with the parts we were most insecure about. Jeremiah also made the perfect girl dad, spending every minute he could with her. I was in love with our family, every single part about it.

author’s note - SO CUTEEEEE lol, sorry for the inactivity but ive been so busy. ALSO BELLYJERE IN PARISSSSS WOOT WOOT!!! im so excited for s3 omg

- j

[lots-of-sun]

A/n: Somehow I always end up writing about people walking LOL. Also a lot of my fic titles come from song lyrics!

Tamao Serizawa x Fem!Reader

SO KISS ME

Working at a bookstore always had its interesting experiences, especially when I'm usually the only person on shift everyday. Despite still being in high school, I was always rostered on, I guess being in senior year was bound to have it's downsides. The boss was always so picky about who worked here, not that it really mattered as long as you were competent. But over the two years I'd been employed here, I seem to be the only one who stuck. Not that my boss was ever mean or harsh, just didn't accept lazy or disrespectful staff. That's how I always ended up on the same schedule every week. Not that I minded, consistency was oddly relaxing, not having to worry about what to do next, always knowing.

The shop is small, yet packed with book shelves and a single table seating area right at the front of the main floor, across from the counter. I'd always loved the vintage and cozy vibe this building had, tucked away on a back street, like a little treasure that you'd only be able to find if you looked hard enough or stumbled across by accident.

One thing that kept me around this job for so long, was the people. With every face that stepped through that entrance came a new story, a new corner of the world I'd never learned about, a new adventure. The odd sense of home I got from the regulars who frequented for the newest reads or even the classics, always put a smile on my face. Though there was someone who stopped by often, despite never buying anything.

Tamao Serizawa had slipped into my life fairly nonchalantly, so much so that I don't entirely remember ever meeting him in the first place. Though I do recall the first time I'd seen him, walking past the open doors of the bookstore about a year and a half ago. He'd been surrounded by his group of friends, laughing along with them. He hadn't noticed me back then, but that changed a few months later.

I had easily forgotten about seeing him, I saw almost a hundred faces a day, even if it was just from people watching when the store was dead. It was a Monday afternoon when he'd entered the shop with his usual gang, I'd been adding pricing labels to newly arrived books from behind the counter near the door. They all wore classic school boy uniforms, yet they all seemed to be tweaked differently, defining them to being individual. They'd piled in near the entrance and brushed off my offer for assistance, though a pair of eyes seemed to linger on me. Even after they had looked around and left without purchasing anything, I couldn't shake the feeling of having someone watching me. Though I tried to brush it off as nonchalantly as I could.

That was until they began to come in more frequently, sometimes it was the whole group and other times it was only two or three of them but Tamao was always amongst them. Soon, they'd started spending most afternoons in the small seating area near the front of the store, never reading but always talking, plotting things I'd only eavesdropped on when I got bored. It became apparent to me pretty quickly that they were a part of one of the neighboring gang schools, though I didn't judge, there was no point, not when I didn't know them. After their first few rendezvous, they began including me in conversations, some were incredibly trivial, the kind of chats you'd have with friends. And others were serious, asking for advice and even if I didn't know how to answer, I tried my best.

On most weekends, Serizawa came in alone. Browsing the visual novel section, making small talk and asking for recommendations. He was always more engaged and at ease when he was alone, like he had more time to think without someone talking in his ear all the time. It's something I found comfort in, getting to see two separate sides to the same person. I wonder if he was like this with his friends, if he was actually always this calm and I just overlooked it when he was surrounded by others. But I definitely grew attracted to this side of him and eventually began to watch him more often, even if it was brief glances in his direction.

Today was no different than any other, heading straight to work after my final class of the day, changing out of my uniform in the stores bathroom and relieving my co-worker from their shift. I head out to the main floor and take a seat on the wooden stool behind the counter. My eyes scan the open notebook that sits next to the cash register, going over the list of responsibilities I have to complete before closing the store for the night.

Then the entrance bell rings and I don't even need to look up to know who it is, I'd heard them before they even made it to the door. The familiar sound of chatter and heavy shoes against the hardwood floors makes me smile. I raise my head to see exactly the people I'd expected.

"Hey guys, finally decide to indulge yourselves in literature?" I joke, knowing the answer is a resounding no. I take in all of their appearances, looking how they always do, save for a few extra bruises. My eyes linger on Serizawa for a split second, his gaze already fixed on me by the time I look towards him.

"Not today, but maybe one of these days" Tokio speaks up first, over the chorus of greetings I received.

"I could use a good book" Tokaji mumbles, already heading over to the seating area with Tsutsumoto.

"Serizawa's definitely trying to indulge in something else" The Mikami brothers whisper to each other, snickering at their own teasing words. They earn a slap on the back of the head by the man himself, the same hand retracting to run through his short hair.

"Don't mind them, monkeys haven't had their banana today" Serizawa's voice is thick as he lunges towards the brothers who scurry away to join everyone else at the table. He turns back to me, giving a small smile. "Yellow suits you" He adds softly, referring to the crew neck sweater I wore, before turning to join the others.

I smile at his words, feeling my heart leap in my chest. My eyes follow him to where he sits, it's kind of odd seeing him so outwardly different when he is around his friends, knowing there's a whole other side to him. I need to stop staring before any of them notice, even worse if it's Tamao himself. I busy myself with the duties of the checklist that's been taunting me since I sat down, but don't miss the feeling of someone watching me.

I hadn't even noticed how late it had gotten until I come out from the back room and it's getting dark outside. Tamao and his gang had left not too long ago, having said their goodbyes before disappearing down the street, while I continued to pack up for the night.

I let out a sigh of relief, happy to be finally heading home. I double check that I've locked the doors properly before turning to start my walk home, maybe I'll catch a taxi instead, I'm tired tonight. But as I turn to my left, there he is. Tamao Serizawa, standing under a yellowed street lamp with a half finished cigarette hanging from his lips, which he exhales the smoke through his nose. He's facing me, watching me like he usually does. Except this isn't usual, he's never here when I close the store, not that I've noticed at least. But overall, he seems to have been waiting for me. He flicks the cigarette to the pavement and puts it out with his foot, clearing his throat as he takes a few slow steps towards me.

"Serizawa? Is everything okay?" I ask, a slight concern filling my voice. Blame it on the overthinking, but I jump to the conclusion he might need support, whether it be emotionally or physically. Though as he lets out a calm chuckle, I think he might want something else.

"I hope so" He responds shortly, a smirk ghosting his lips as he stops when he's close enough to talk more gently. "Sorry to make you worry, I just thought I could walk you home." He clears his throat, "It can get... lonely"

I sort of blink at him as I purse my lips, trying to hold back a smile at his reasoning. It was clearly an excuse but I let it slide, barely. I notice the way the corner of his lips quirk up and his eyes squint, obviously being aware of how blatant his defense is. Now we're both standing here, staring at each other in the dim light of the side walk, clearly trying not to laugh. He tries to break his expression but ends up falling into a deeper grin.

"Yep" I squeak out, closing my eyes as my voice cracks with a rising laugh. "It can, how thoughtful of y... you" My slight pause comes from the lurch of my body as I try my hardest not to laugh at the expression he's making, he looks like he's trying to hold in a sneeze and I probably don't look much different.

We both let out a small snicker at each other, which devolves into a chuckle and a laugh. It feels like I'm melting into this moment and the implications of why he'd want to walk me home has my heart racing. We try to compose ourselves, a small giggle here and there. He looks down at his shoes before back up, seemingly regained his previous demeanor, despite the curl of a smile on his lips.

"Let's go, it's late as is" He tries to be serious and I let him, let him be who he wants to be. I nod in agreement with him and as I begin to walk, he follows.

It's not long before we're in my neighborhood, I'd always lived close to where I worked, not wanting to have to take the packed trains everyday. We'd walked in near silence the whole way here. It didn't bother me though, if anything it was sort of endearing, not feeling like I have to talk all the time. Serizawa is the first to break the silence as we near my house.

"I don't want to mess this up" His voice is vulnerable, it almost shocks me into freezing but I match his slowing steps and look towards him. I open my mouth to speak, ask if somethings going on but he cuts me off before I can.

"You mean a lot to me, more than I thought you would. You were always beautiful to me and I couldn't stop myself from coming back to you, even when I wasn't sure. But now I am sure, I know how I feel and I don't want you to slip away without ever telling you." His voice is the calm, soft tone it always was when we were alone together and my heart leaps to my throat at the realization of what he's trying to say.

"Serizawa, are y-"

"I like you a lot and if you are willing, I'd love to take you out" He speaks again before I can finish my sentence. He seems so assured in what he's saying. A smile is now growing on my lips as I go to respond, to tell him I'd love to.

"Tama-" And once again, before I can say any more he interrupts, this time sounding slightly more nervous and he holds an unreadable expression. He brings his hand up to run his fingers through his hair.

"I understand if you don't feel the same way but I needed to at least tell you, I wouldn't be able to let you go if I didn't say anything" He concludes sincerely and this time he finally looks towards me. I can't help but grin and the heat that's rushes to my cheeks tells me I'm blushing. He looks unsure, like he thinks I might just start laughing at him.

"You know what I love about you?" I start, a small laugh escaping my lips. "How you let me finish my sentences" It's like a weight has been lifted off his shoulders as he mirrors my smile, giving a small chuckle. It's my turn to cut him off as he opens his mouth to say something.

"And, I love when you come around and the way you run your hand through your hair when you're nervous" My grin widens as he looks away slightly, seemingly surprised I'd noticed his anxious habit. I place my hand on his arm softly, "And I'd love to go out with you"

His smile widens and his expression is something I've never seen him have before, it's a mixture of relief and adoration. The way his eyes are trained on mine in the soft glow of the street lamps, it has my heart pounding. I let myself relax, relieved that my feelings weren't one sided.

"Then it's settled, let's date?" He asks, sounding like he's double checking that's what I really meant.

I can't help but grin wider, shaking my head softly in disbelief. Pushing the gate to my house and holding it open with my body, I face out into the street to look at him, I nod reassuring.

"Yeah, let's date, unless you've already changed your mind" I tease him softly and I watch as he rolls his eyes sarcastically. It feels odd how easily we seems to fit in with each other, feeling closer and more confident.

"I could kiss you right now" He says those words like it's the most natural thing to say in this moment and maybe it is, but I still feel my face burn in a deeper blush. He lets out a chuckle and stuffs his hands in his pockets, preparing to leave. But I don't want him to go, not yet at least.

"Then do it" I take a step closer to him, hearing the gate squeak softly as it moves with me.

He looks up towards me now that I'm standing on the small step that leads to the gate, his eyes shine with something I can't quite recognize. He takes a step forwards as well and I lean down slightly so I can reach his face. One of his hands withdraws from his pocket, raising to rest on the curve of my waist and my hand moves to cradle his jaw. Our lips connect in a soft but quick kiss, one that leaves me wanting more. His lips are cold but inviting and I don't want this to end. As I pull back gently, I feel his hand leave my side and mine retracts back to tuck under the warmth of my crew neck.

"Goodnight, Tamao" I whisper, leaning in to press a chaste kiss to his cheek.

I enter the front area of my house and begin to close the gate as he steps out of view behind the solid fence of my property, not before hearing a small 'night' come from him. As I approach my front door, the hum of a tv playing fills my ears. Though as I step up on the front step that leads to the threshold of the building, I turn back to look over the top of the fence, watching the back of Tamao's body get further and further away.

"Yes!" It's soft but I still hear it and watch as Serizawa pumps his fist in the air like he's won a great victory. The sight makes me cover my mouth to hold in a small laugh. I finally look away and I find myself still grinning. I don't want the way my heart lurches for him to stop and something tells me it won't ever, something tells me he'll keep my heart safe.

[etoilehistoire]

(A time-travel fic: we know Astarion was locked away for a year once as a punishment. We know no hero or god ever came for him. When something throws him back into the past, to relive his worst fears, will anyone come this time? Featuring my "Tav", a female human paladin named Xia.)

He’d fed. Supped at the neck of the pretty little paladin, endured her quiet comments (mocking, he suspects, but he can’t be sure and oh, how that rankles) and too-serious eyes. Returned to his own bedroll. Watched the night sky for a bit; let himself appreciate the stars with a sincerity he keeps carefully locked away, even from himself, most of the time. Closed his eyes, allowed himself to slip into a trance.

And now…

Now there are hands gripping him, strong and cruel, dragging him across a stone floor. A horribly familiar floor.

There are words, snarled and harsh, but he can barely make them out. Stolen (gifted) blood pounds in his ears, the fear making it nearly impossible to think. He can’t focus on the words because he knows that voice, he knows that voice.

Besides. He has a sinking certainty that he’s heard these words before. 

When he’s flung down into the too-small, too-tight darkness, when his feebly-struggling hands are slapped easily away, his panicked protests ignored, and the heavy stone slab seals him in, he knows.

He's back.

This is a dream. Oh, surely. Elves don’t dream, as a rule, unless they choose too, and he certainly can’t imagine choosing to. Still, trance is a time to access and revisit old memories, and when one has memories as… insistent… as Astarion's, sometimes they demand to be revisited whether one wills it or no. This wouldn’t be the first time, although never before had it felt quite so real. A side effect of human blood, perhaps.

His heart, even when awash in fresh blood, doesn’t beat, and yet he imagines he can feel it in his chest, a frightened, fluttery thing. He has no need to breathe, and yet his throat feels tight as he gasps at stale air and pushes uselessly against stone walls that crowd him from every side.

Calm. Calm. You are in control. It’s a dream. A dream, and you’ll just have to wait it out. Calmly. Otherwise you might do something like shout out in your trance and wake the others, and wouldn’t that just be excruciating?

He coaxes a grim smile out of himself with the last image, and feels himself relax. He’ll wait it out. Gods, he ought to be good at waiting by now, oughtn't he?

Fifteen minutes later, his right leg starts to fidget. No, he is not good at waiting.

An hour later, no matter how he tries to keep himself from doing so, he finds himself pushing again against the stone walls holding him in. Every time they fail to budge, he feels another twinge of panic.

Twenty-four hours later, the thought he has desperately been trying to avoid pushes its way forward: trance-memories don’t usually last this long. 

Twenty-four hours after that, and he is screaming, weeping, banging uselessly on the lid as if that would do anything, as his mind tries and fails and tries again to process the truth he can no longer avoid: this is real.

He's back.

On the third day he can feel the vitality the paladin's blood had given him beginning to fade. His frenzied attacks against the solid stone grow weaker – almost imperceptibly at first, but that will change.

One week in, he can feel the beginning pangs of hunger – pangs he knows, via agonizingly clear memory, will only grow.

Three weeks in, he distracts himself by indulging in increasingly-elaborate fantasies of being rescued. By the silly wizard, perhaps, or the oh-so-noble “Blade of Frontiers.” Or that little cleric girl, the one who always pretended to hate him. Or, hells, why not Xia herself, if he’s being ridiculous? He pictures it for a moment, the paladin swooping down on a gleaming white horse just to dig up a vampire spawn like him; the humor in that makes him smile, affords him a half-breath of relief. (Until he remembers that it’s hopeless, that they’re not even alive yet, that even if they were none of them would care enough to even look for him, let alone charge to his rescue. After that it’s harder to come up with fantasies.)

A month and a half in, he breaks the first of many nails completely off, scrabbling and thrashing against the lid. He knows he should stop. That it won’t do any good and he’ll just keep hurting himself. He begins scrabbling again, even though his raw finger screams with every scrape. (When his hands finally fall, exhausted, he remembers with grim anger that around this stage was when he began praying to the silent gods. He swears to himself, he won’t stoop so low this time.)

Three months in, he starts praying anyway.

Five months in, he stops.

At six months in, his muscles eating themselves, his throat a blaze of pain, the hallucinations start. Again and again, stone scrapes on stone, light shines down, and they’re there, come to rescue him. His party. His… well, friends is a strong word. His compatriots, perhaps. Gale. Karlach, the flames nearly blinding him. Wyll, with his gentle smile. Once it's a elven couple, a man and a woman, with faces he can almost recognize but not quite, and when they vanish he weeps dry tears for hours. More often than not it’s Xia, which would be funny if he were still capable – emotionally or physically – of laughing. The sharp, pretty paladin with her sharp, pretty sword might tolerate him for his usefulness, might feed him her blood out of pragmatism and a perverse sense of duty, but no more than that. Certainly he’d failed to charm or seduce her – he’d tried, gods knew, tried every trick in his repertoire to bind her to him, make her want to keep him safe, but when she simply fixed him with cool dark eyes that seemed to see right through his manipulation, he feared he’d simply made her despise him instead. So why would his mind show him her? Even if she were here, now, which she isn’t, she owes him nothing; even her oath to protect the innocent wouldn’t apply to an undead thing like him. She isn’t coming. (The worst part, though, are the nights when he hallucinates Cazador coming for him – the mocking laugh, the half-rotted rat he’s thrown. The way he drinks it anyway, gagging at the taste but unable to stop. The contempt in Cazador's eyes as he watches. Well. No. That isn’t true. The worst part is the gratitude he feels, every time.)

At seven months he begins to wonder if the people he remembers ever existed at all. Perhaps all those memories were simply a fever dream. Perhaps he has been here the whole time.

By nine months he knows, with whatever small scrap of consciousness is left to him capable of knowing anything, that it’s over. He’s broken. He knows, or had once known, that somewhere in the world there are blue skies and bright stars, the laughter of companions and the smell of cookfires, but he no longer believes in it. Everything is darkness and stale air and pain. His throat hurts, burns like fire in its dryness. His innards hurt, dessicated and twisting in on themselves. His limbs are atrophied, stick-thin and monstrous. His skin is dry and stretched taut over his bones. His hands are bloody lumps, fingers broken and scraped raw from useless attempts to escape. This is all there is, and all there will ever be, until Cazador decides to let him out. Until Cazador comes for him. And when he does, Astarion knows with a sickening sense of shame, he will be grateful. He will be relieved. He will be so, so desperate to never return here, so very willing to do whatever is necessary to stay in his master's good graces. He will be Cazador's creature once again, through and through, and this time he doesn’t know if he’ll ever again have the strength to leave.

And still, after that, time continues to pass.

Until stone scrapes against stone.

At first he thinks it’s another hallucination, except that it’s too loud, too bright. The scraping stone is shocking to his ears after hearing nothing but his own hoarse screams for so long; the light hurts, blinding him with his brightness. This is it, then: Cazador has come for him. Hope flares, wild and pathetic and clinging. 

A strong hand grips the front of his shirt and he is ungently lifted out of the stone tomb. Before his eyes can even adjust his face is being pressed against something soft and warm and smelling deliciously vital, and he lunges without thought, latching on with desperate, ferocious hunger. There’s a brief moment when it registers, dimly, that this is a much finer meal than the dead rat he was given last time, but then the blood hits his throat, strong and thick and life-giving, and all conscious thought washes away in the need to drink, drink, drink deeply.

When he comes back to himself some minutes later, the thirst inside him – not sated, never fully sated, but subsided to the level he’s used to – three realizations hit him in rapid order.

This blood is better – richer, stronger – than anything Cazador had ever given him. This is forbidden blood. Human blood.

Familiar human blood.

And he has drunk far too much of it.

He rocks, back, shocked, already bracing himself (with a surprisingly strong stab of regret) for the sight he fully expects – her body, falling lifeless and drained to the filthy floor.

But what he sees is Xia, yes, but fully alive and not – as he had assumed – being held by Cazador, a cruel trick to make him disobey the rules and murder his own friend all in one go. Instead she’s kneeling in front of him, hale and hearty and under her own power, watching him with solemn dark eyes.

“Whuh,” he says, intelligently. 

She nods, as if that meant anything. “I’m sorry it took so long.”

Well, that explained exactly nothing. He clears his throat. “How is it that I didn’t kill you?” It’s not the most important question right now, not even in the top ten, and it’s probably not the most tactful way to phrase it, but of all the thoughts currently crowding his head it’s the one that makes it to his mouth first. 

A rare grin, bright and fleeting, lights up her scarred face, and for just a moment his “pretty paladin" is actually lovely. “Ring of Lesser Restoration,” she explains, holding up her hand to show it off – a flat band of silver, with a flake of some pale blue gem in the center. “I had a feeling you’d be hungry when I found you, and I didn’t want to have to cut you off.”

Oh. Of course. She bought a ring, for him. Because she knew he’d be this, she knew he’d be a mindless, feral monster who wouldn’t be able to stop himself from draining her dry, and rather than that being a reason to leave him to his fate, she just. Bought an expensive magic item. For him. So she wouldn’t have to make him stop. Of course. Entirely sensible. 

Eyes burning, he repeats her words. “When you… found me.”

She nods. “You weren’t the only one thrown back in time. When I realized what had happened, when I realized when I was, I knew you’d be here. With him. So I came.” She gives him a lopsided shrug. “But I told you I’m not from around here. I had to come from the other side of the world.”

He tries to rally himself. He should make a joke, something about how of course you traveled across the world for me, darling, have you seen these cheekbones? Or perhaps turn gratitude into flattery, fluttered eyelashes and pretty words and a promise to repay her kindness however she might like.

Instead what comes out, in a voice so pathetic and broken he wants to cringe away from it, is: “You came for me.”

Something softens in those fathomless dark eyes. A hand comes up, impossibly gentle, to touch his sunken cheek. “Yeah. I did.”

“You came for me.” He feels tears welling, blessed real tears made possible by her blood in his body, and the humiliation he feels at weeping in front of her is overshadowed by the stinging relief of finally being able to do so. “For me.”

He didn’t – he didn’t do anything for her. He never gave her anything. He’d utterly failed to secure her loyalty in any of the ways he knew how. He certainly can’t do anything for her now. There’s no reason she should be here, based on everything he’s ever known of people. It doesn’t make sense. 

Yet here she is.

When the tears start flowing freely she reaches out and pulls him into her, arms warm and reassuring around him – not trapping him but holding him, supporting him. He tucks his face into her shoulder and lets it all come pouring out, all the fear and rage and pain and despair of the past year, the loneliness and need. It isn’t elegant; it’s full of hiccupping and snotting and undignified sounds somewhere between a sob and a scream. She holds him through it, strong arms protective around him, soft hands stroking his hair. 

He clings to her even as the sobs subside, dimly aware that if she wanted to, she could own him in this moment as thoroughly as Cazador once did. She won’t. She wouldn’t even want to. Of this, he is certain. 

The thought does make him pause, though. He draws back (and oh gods, his face must be a fright, for once he’s grateful that he can’t see his own reflection) and meets her gaze with wide eyes. “Cazador.”

“Dead,” she replies bluntly. A small smile graces her lips, the one he always assumed was mocking but which he now suspects is affectionately teasing. “I know, I should have left some for you, but time was of the essence.”

If he weren’t already on his knees he would fall to them now. He feels like a puppet with his strings cut. “You faced him alone.”

“I faced him for you.” She studies him with those serious eyes, and he wonders why he ever thought her intense gaze was cold and judgmental. “You have always deserved better than what that man did to you.”

She says it so plainly, so flatly, as if it’s not a direct refutation of everything he’s secretly feared and believed for 200 years: that he had, somehow, deserved it. For being weak, for being flawed, for being… him.

He swallows. He doesn’t believe her words, not really, but… he never expected to hear them. 

It’s… nice.

She unfolds to her feet, extends a hand to raise him up. “So.” Her face has returned to its usual dispassionate expression, but her eyes dance.  “What say we loot the old bastard's house for everything we can carry, then find out if anyone else ended up back in the past?”

His heart leaps in a way he doesn’t care to examine just yet at the implication that she sought him out first, before any of the others. Linking her arm in hers, he finally manages to summon a ghost of his old smile. “Darling, that sounds positively delightful. Lead the way.”

[placeinthemiddleofnowhere]

I just know when soap heard that sneak got hurt in the newest chap he was like

Should have given them that hug

AHHHHHH my hearttttttttt t

THE PAINNNNNNNN

No, but when I read this ask I was immediately thinking of that video that’s like “I’m a dog, and I identify as a dog, but my mom says ‘I’m just a baby!’ like Sneak is the 141 baby and when anything happens to them they’d all be like 😤 who do we have to kill! Meanwhile Sneak's there surrounded by big grown ass mother hen men like “I’m a hardened soldier, and I identify as someone who can kick ass and has been on multiple dangerous missions, but my team say ‘I’m just a baby’🙄” 

So I've written a lil short something to tide over till Chap 7

It was hardly your worst first day back, but that morning your head was still far from alright. Although the intense bouts of pain had gone you had been left with lingering echoes that felt like a loose grip clenching on your brain every so often. In short - you weren't delighted to be walking back onto base.

As you found your way through the door, you had only just barely gotten your foot in when you were knocked back and taken by surprise. Claps and cheers echoed through the hallways, bouncing around the cold white walls and straight into your fuzzy ears. You gritted your teeth and turned your head, coming eye to eye with Soap who had his head nuzzled into your shoulder while his impenetrable arms squeezed you like a stress ball.

“Soap, what the fuck are you doing, man?” You groaned, trying to wriggle out of his hold. 

“What the fuck am I doin’? What’s it look like I’m doin’? You almost got killed! That day that I was tryin’ hug you could’ve been our last moments together. I didn’t even get to hug you in the end either!”

You huffed out a breath and rolled your eyes, surveilling the rest of the guys as they stood watching. Ghost had his arms crossed and watched on with Price while Gaz took his turn to walk up and crush the life outta you from the front. You were being attacked from both sides, no chance of escape. 

“Did you forget to tell them I walked away with a concussion, Cap?” You said, directing your glare toward Price. “Completely non life-threatening injuries. And to be honest Soap, even if I had died that day, I’d probably have been smothered by your toxic sweaty ass fumes before I’d have even gone on that mission if I’d let you near me!”

“Well I tried, but you know how they get,” Price laughed, shaking his head as Soap gawped at you. 

“Sneaky, do you know how many people die from concussions? Plus you were about to get shot at if Price hadn’t a’ come in, that could’ve been it. You’re lucky you are alive!” Soap groused, finally releasing you from his grip. 

“And before you ask how many,” Gaz said, also being kind enough to let you go, “Soap has been banging on about it all week - its 176 deaths a day.”

“Wow, you googled that all on my account,” you laughed, shoving Soap right as he shoved Gaz. 

“Well how about I don’t care next time you almost get shot to death,” Soap said, throwing his hands to the air. 

“Honestly? I think my head would be all the better for it,” you laughed. “All this noise is killing me.”

Soap threw you a dirty look, but it didn’t deter you from smiling all the more, especially when he started to sulk off. Gaz followed after him and Price took off too, presumably heading off to your first meeting, you supposed. You’d gone to follow him down the blinding hallway, your eyes half lidded to try and deal with the fluorescents but you were stopped when Ghost put his hand on your shoulder and looked down at you with a serious stare. 

“You ok, Sergeant?”

“Yeah, I’ll be alright,” you shrugged, “As long as you don’t start trying to pop my head off too.”

“What? No hugs for your LT?” he snorted, his eyes giving away his smile.

“As if you’d want one,” you smirked.

“Know me too well, Sneaky. Can’t lie and say I didn’t worry about you though.”

“Well anyone would worry when they’ve got Soap ranting off about death statistics,” you shrugged. “Really though, I’ll be fine. Few painkillers and some water and I’ll be alright in no time.”

Ghost nodded, giving you one last scan over with his eyes before he began to follow the others. 

“Better get a move on then, Sneak. I hear the Austrian has been asking about your arrival. Last thing you’d want is to bump into him.”

You rolled your eyes at the mention of König and got to stepping in line with Ghost. Reality was you’d much rather be back in your little retreat with König. Though that was the last thing that Ghost needed to get wind of. 

[romantify]

just a little smth i came up during a challenge with a friend??

desperately need advice, i want to become a fanfiction writer LMAOO.. (please) not proof-read! "I knew tarot cards were bullshit but whatever that was in there confirmed my thoughts.." Raines words entered one ear and out the other, Hana bouncing with energy. She knew she shouldn't have let her girlfriend pre-game before a big event but she couldn't say no to the all familiar face Hana would give her when she wanted something. She let out a breath she was holding, the awful smell of Pumpkin spice leaving her nostrils. The overly-excited and intoxicated girl quickened her pace, occasionally squeezing Raines hand every few seconds to remind herself that she was still there. She came to a sudden stop, turning around in a swift movement. "Sunshine," Hana called, licking her bottom lip. "That was so exciting! You've got to stop letting silly little cards ruin your mood.." She frowned up to the other, cupping her cheeks. Raine could see the dilated pupils of her lover, biting the inside of her cheek. Hana was right, they were just cards. Nothing serious, right? 𖧧 At least that was what Raine so desperately wanted to believe. After she let the same 'silly little cards' as her girlfriend claimed, read their fate, she started noticing minor things she normally wouldn't have. Everything pissed her off, including the one person she swore she could never hate. Raine usually would push things to the back of her mind until she forgot but this time it was different. She adored her girlfriend, of course she did. So why did her loving gaze slowly disappear at things she used to love about Hana? In the morning when her girlfriend cuddled her while sleeping on her chest, in the afternoon where her girlfriend had taken the previous two hours to get ready only to go on a run, in the evening where the same girl wore her cute apron and bopped her head along to the music, and at night when they'd settle down and cuddle, watching their usual comfort show. Where'd it go? To relieve stress, Raine liked staring up at the stars, making an image in her mind as she connected all of the stars into whatever her mind wanted, a soft smile resting on her face. Now its nothing but the same frustrated expression, silently cursing out every god above. As if things couldn't possibly get worse, Raine could've sworn she saw the stars made a shape themselves that night without any help of her imagination, spelling out a 'fuck you' and worsening her mood. "Yeah right.." She mumbled, leaning against the railing of her balcony. A second later, the phone underneath her chest lit up, a bright blue screen painting her skin the same color. A glance down, she saw the wallpaper of her and the girl she had been so confused about for the past two weeks. With a head tilt, she unlocked her phone only to see a message. 'Hi baby!!' 'Are you awake? ;)' 'Attachment: File'

The black haired girl contemplated opening the message, glancing back up to the stars. Seeing the same words, she grunted and turned her attention back to her phone. Raine clicked on the messages, her eyes widening. It was a picture of her girlfriend standing in front of the mirror, in those tiny pink and white shorts she got the other for their anniversary while her upper-half was completely naked. What was she supposed to do now? Fuck, Hana looked as beautiful as ever. The girl couldn't decide what to say, turning off her phone and plopping on the sunchair behind her. Letting out a sexually frustrated breath, she gave a smug smirk to the sky as if she was bragging and stuck out her middle finger like an immature child. 'I see you aren't responding...' 'Goodnight, Sunshine. Hope it made you feel better <3' 𖧧 Unknowingly, on the other side of the phone, Hana had her knees up to her bare chest. The blonde girls eyes were puffy from the hours crying, clutching onto her phone and feeling the coldness from the necklace swinging low in between her breasts. She doesn't know what happened, thinking a picture would cheer her lover up. She had been terribly wrong, the photo only making her more stressed. If she was the same girl Raine met two years ago, she would've already pulled out all of her hair from being left on read. But that's just what type of person Raine was, she changed Hana for the better. All those loving touches and kisses from the girl made her feel loved, wanted. Hana always craved that type of attention and she was afraid to lose it. All those late night conversations they had which made them both almost fail their senior year, she cherished every moment. With shaky movements, she grabbed onto her necklace and held onto it tightly. Shallow and panicked breaths, she accidentally ripped the necklace from her neck. Hana's eyes widened, her shaking becoming visibly worse. It felt like she had just destroyed something that could never be replaced. She didn't care if there were replicas. The necklace was a gift from Raine on their first date, she'd won it from a carnival game. Hana remembers that day. She remembers the look on Raines face when she won her something. She remembers lifting her hair, feeling the movement of the girl to get behind her, the touches to her skin making her neck hairs stand and the tips of her ears burn pink. She remembers it all. There could be millions of replicas of the necklace but it'd never the exact same one, the one she wore when Hana swore to herself she'd never take it off as long as she lived.

"No, no.." Small and stifled sobs could be heard, the steel necklace in her palm. The silver coat had faded off all these years ago but she didn't care. At the end of the night, her skin would be a soft shade of green where the necklace rested but she never cared. It was a present from Raine and she'd always hold it dear to her. Hana stretched out her legs, looking at the jewelry through her blurry eyes. She closed her palm and shut her eyes tightly, holding the necklace up to her chest. The necklace was broke, unable to be fixed. Just like their relationship. !! This isn't planned to be finished but my friend gave me a little prompt to strengthen my writing skills. It's all scattered and leaves a huge cliffhanger but I wanted to post it and possibly get advice on what I could've done better?

[v5hadow]

WIP Wednesday

Royal Strikers: Day 2 scene 2

'Day 2' is a mess and a lot of that is since I apparently am saying no to posting the actual start of the chapter right now, since this section was apparently completed in backwards order for scenes. That and half the week was spent on trying to understand AO3's work skins. I'll be testing them over the next couple weeks to see if I got it down. However as such Day 2 Scene 1 just isn't ready in any capacity. It's got filler text so i know what goes where and the goal in spots 1-7. boohoo, its mostly fluff and I already have a preplanned date for starting to post chapters to AO3, especially since we are starting to get to the point where I don't have as extensive of additions needed to be made to the edits. All the important bit for this from d2s1 is that Yuuki will be busy for reasons the next 2 days if things stay according to his schedule. Thus him being at work.

Yuuki was spending his dinner break in the mostly empty break room, seated and mostly playing with his phone. He had already spent most of it replying to a handful of texts from his friends, though it was strangely quiet on the ex-Phantom Thieves’ chat. He was going through some of the most recent conversations between the moderators for the last few minutes before he needed to be back on the floor.

Just after sending a comment for Matters and Lancelot to stop bickering, Yuuki’s phone began to chime its ringtone for a saved number. The admin answered the phone without really looking at who was calling.

“Hello, this is Mishima.”

There was a bit of a laugh on the other line before they went straight to the point with a “So I’ve got good news and bad news.”

“Huh, Akira?” Yuuki took a second to pull the phone from his ear to look at the number again before asking, “Are you seriously calling me from LaBlanc’s phone?”

“Yeah, Morgana has my phone right now. But I really needed to talk to you.” 

That was all Yuuki needed to hear to start moving away from the door and his other coworker hanging out around the break room. He gave a bit of a hum as he moved until asking, “Do you have my number memorized?”

“Yes?” Akira seemed a bit bewildered by that question.

“Seriously? I’m surprised,” Yuuki said with a bit of wonder; he got a pleased hum back in response. He then remembered about the oddities of the conversation before moving to his actual question, “Is it PT things?”

“Yeah, sorta? So Ryuji, Morgana and I-“

Yuuki cut Akira off, “I hate to stop you, especially since I don’t normally get the story from you, but I’m only on break right now. Cliff notes version Aki.”

“Tomorrow for curry and cuddles for the longer story?”

“Yeah, sounds perfect”

“Okay…” Akira took an audible breath before seeming to rattle off a list of things. “Camping trip has been put on hold. EMMA has something weird going on with it that can pull people into some version of the Metaverse. We just got back from rumor hunting. Most will continue that tomorrow but Ann, Morgana, and I are going to the Tv studio. ‘Hottest Celebrities’ or whatever.” 

Yuuki laughed at the blundered detail. “More than butchered that title but I’m familiar since that was the easiest way for me to watch our birdbrained detective.”

“Aww. I’m sorry we aren’t as photogenic as him,” Akira tried to tease before he fell into a more serious tone. “But we are going to see Alice Hiiragi. From some rumors, be careful if you insult her to a fan’s face.”

“I’ll try if you don’t pick up any murderers this time.”

“If something happened, do you think you’d be able to work with him?”

“Akechi?” Yuuki blinked, surprised with the direction his boyfriend’s thoughts went. “Probably. Rather not, but if I understand most of what happened after New Year like I think I do, I’d likely be in the same boat you were. Minimal trust except where our goals overlap. You know, assuming he’s alive still.”

“Pretty positive he is and can’t ask for much better than that.”

“Now I love you, and I’m so glad none of us are dead… Wait, no one died, right?”

“I think I’d lead with that.” 

“You MIGHT lead with that.” “Everyone is fine for the most part. At worst, just some bruises.”

“Good enough. I have to go back to work. Stay safe Aki.”

“I’ll try.”

[pepprs]

im gonna go fucking crazy im just gonna go crazy!!!!! more health shit in the tags im sorry

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

pumpkin, you need to stop for tonight

A/N: this was an old request, originally posted on 18/8-22. it read: Can you do a Steve Harrington request set during his senior year where he and his girlfriend are having a study date but Steve eventually quits and has to coax his girl to bed since she is staying up late studying?

Warnings: Steve Harrington x reader, studying, being very tired, Steve singing, literally just fluff

Word count: 640

∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽

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The soft warm light that was coming from your pink bedside lamp caused your studious figures on the floor to cast an unintentional shadow puppet show onto the opposite wall. 

Sloppily copying into your notebook, the last few sentences from the open book in your lap, you let out a long yawn.

Feeling the boy behind you lean forward and rest his head on your shoulder, he murmured in your ear, “babe…”

“Huh?” you just flipped to the next page and kept reading. 

“It’s 1:53,” he informed you, snaking his arms around your waist. 

“So?”

“So, it’s 1:53 am!”

“Well, if you’re tired,” you mumbled, fighting your body’s urge to yawn again, “you can just go sleep in my bed, I don’t mind. Just don’t let my dad find you tomorrow morning.”

“Y/n, you’re half asleep right now and still doing your homework.”

“So are you!” you smacked his forearm lightly. 

“Nope. I actually stopped about twenty minutes ago.”

“What?” you craned your neck to look at him, “have you just been sitting here staring at me study like a creep?”

“It wasn’t creepy!”

“Hmm…” you smiled, “sounds like something a creep would say.”

“Pumpkin, you need to stop for tonight. You’re so tired that your brain won’t even be able to retain any of this knowledge tomorrow!”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” leaning back into his warm embrace, “I’m not tired, I’m fine, I’m-, hey! I was reading that!” you exclaimed as he snatched the book from your fingers and tossed it far enough that you couldn’t just reach it again. “Do you want me to get an F?”

“You won’t get an F,” he hugged you tighter, preventing you from reclaiming the hefty tome. “You’ll ace it, as always. Pulling an all-nighter on top of the amount of time I know you’ve been studying for, won’t make a big difference. It’ll just turn you into a zombie tomorrow,” you felt his lips on your neck. 

“But, I still have so much I wanna go over again.”

“Then it’s a good thing you still have a whole week left to do so. You'll be fine.”

“Steve, I-“ you tried but were abruptly interrupted by the sound of your boyfriend singing softly into the back of your neck.

“Though I've tried before to tell her, of the feelings I have for her in my heart.” 

Closing your eyes, you sighed and gave up, letting yourself feel just how worn out you really were. 

Letting him gently drag you with him, he pulled you up onto the small bed that was right next to the round fluffy rug the two of you had been situated on, all the while never skipping a single beat in his lullaby, “every time that I come near her, I just lose my nerve as I've done from the start.” Scooting further up the mattress, he clung to your body, wrapping it up in his love, never giving it a chance to escape and return to its studious ways. “Every little thing she does is magic, everything she does just turns me on. Even though my life before was tragic, now I know my love for her goes on.”

“That was a dirty move, Harrington,” you mumbled, surrendering in the gruesome fight of keeping your eyelids open, “you know how to push my buttons too well.”

“Hey, it worked, didn’t it?” he kissed your temple, “you’re in bed and practically asleep already.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you chuckled at his victory, then added in a serious tone, tugging at his shirt just in an effort to convey the message, “no, but seriously, my dad will kill you if he sees you here in the morning.”

“Pumpkin, I am like a ninja. Trust me, he will never know I slept here,” sounding overconfident in his groggy promise.

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