#this isn't the best shot of the show I got but

[b5withextrachicken]

FALLING IN LOVE? - JAMAL MUSIALA

pairings: jamal musiala x fem!reader

summary: they were seen kissing at a party but she can't quite remember. now she wants to find out if does.

(i hate this and also english isn't my first language.)

(pictures are not mine)

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Perfection. Pure perfection. That was probably the only word that could describe his performance today.

My eyes were practically glued to the pitch as my gaze followed his every move. He was at his best today, making his way through the defenders, dribbling out every single one of them. That man was sickeningly good on the field, I had to admit as I watched from the stands. The atmosphere was loud, cheering and addicting. Not where I usually spent a friday night but I could get used to it. Especially when the view was this good.

At a party several weeks ago I had befriended another peer group of athletes, temporarly increasing my number of close friends from 2 to 7. Normal, right? Well, no, because when I woke up with a headache the next morning and checked my way-too-bright phone on the nightstand, it was blown up with messages. Whatsapp, Insta, TikTok... even Facebook. Photos, low-quality videos, theories. There were strangers on the internet speculating about me and a boy. That boy. The boy i later found out was Jamal Musiala. The pictures clearly showed me and him. Way too close. But the worst thing was: I couldn't remember what happened that night.

And that's what brought me here today, to the front row of the Allianz Arena. Because since that night, I couldn't help but wonder if he remembered me or anything that happened. I needed to see him.

The game was heated, the tension could've been cut by a knife. A winner wasn't yet clear when the ball made its way to Jamals feet again. Even from across the pitch I could see his expression fall into concentration as he skillfully turned and sprinted through the opposition towards their goal. It was like the whole stadium went quiet as the fans and rivals realised his chance. He moved to a perfect position to aim. Shot. Scored.

The south curve went wild. Fans spilled their beer. Plastic cups flew. Bayern took the lead in the 87th minute, now so close to a home win. The scorer wearing the number 42 on his back ran over to them to celebrate his goal. He was ecstatic, smiling as he got closer to the barricade.

That's when his gaze met mine.

It was sudden. Fast. But for that minuscule second I could see his eyes light up. A telling spark. Was it recognition? Our momentary connection was severed when his team mates finally caught up to him, engulfing him in a wild hug almost sending the young man to the floor. I smiled, deciding to push the heavy thoughts to the back of my mind for now and embrace the warm atmosphere.

..........

The game was over, proudly ending in a 2:1 for Bayern Munich. The masses hurried to the exits, hoping to avoid the cramped traffic after the win. I lingered around, taking my time to collect my things and also to circumvent the crowded halls of the stadium for a little longer. My mind was racing as the stands cleared out, only leaving trash and spilled beer behind. I was about to sip up my jacket when-

"Y/N?"

I practically whirled around at the sudden voice and my gaze (once again) was met by those chocolate brown eyes that belonged to no other than Jamal. He took a small step back startled by my movement and send me an apologetic look for the scare. Now there was a litte more than an arms-length between us.

"Uh-hey!" I answered nervously, a shaky smile painting my lips. This wasn't at all how I imagined our encounter. My eyes scanned his appearance, he wore a baggy tracksuit jacket over his kit, the grass residues on his shorts still evident from the many fouls he had to endure. He hadn't even made it to the locker room. My gaze lingered on his lips before locking with his eyes again.

His mouth stretched into a sweet smile "Hey..."

Awkward silence. A few beats passed. I looked around nervously, my eyes now darting to anywhere but him. What was I supposed to talk about now? The weather?

Jamal also shuffled around nervously, looking down at his cleats. It was clear we both beat around the bush. He looked back up at me, his gaze resembling that of a deer. "So...Why-I mean, what brought you here, I didn't think I'd see you again..." he asked carefully. A blush tainted my cheeks "Uhm, I just... wanted to see you." I started, embarassed "You know, after the party." pausing for a moment, I thought back to the pictures of us kissing, contemplating if I should ask the question and just get it of my chest. Yeah. Best option.

"Do you remember anything about that night? Like what happened exactly? Did we... do something?"

It tumbled out of my mouth, one ask fused to another. I watched as his posture shifted, his eyes slightly widening. "What? No,no,no." he shook his head. A small wave of relief washed over me but it couldn't tame the burning lack of knowledge about that night. "Then what happened, the only thing I know is that I woke up with a headache.". He took a step back, processing my words before answering. "We had a good night you know, dancing, drinking...kissing. It went well until some drunk incel pushed you and you hit your head on a door frame..." the man paused, anger flashing in his eyes for a second. "He knocked you out. I drove you to the hospital. Your friends picked you up."

My mouth opened to reply, but quickly closed when no good answer formed on my tongue. It wasn't what I expected, but I still didn't know what to think about it.

"You waited at the hospital?" I asked, now completely catching up to what he said.

"Yeah." Jamal looked down to the floor again, hiding the faint red that now tinted his cheeks. "I wanted to ask for your number but... after everything happened I didn't think it was appropriate..." He trailed off.

"Oh-OH..well..." I was taken aback. Caught off-guard. Then I suddenly felt confidence seep through my body.

"You could ask me now."

He looked at me, a beat passed, then his face lit up. He took his phone out of his pocket and handed it to me, ready to enter the digits. As I was about to give him the phone back, he cleared his throat.

"Are you free next friday? It's my free day and maybe we could meet up at a café?" He asked, also growing more confident now. I blushed, and nodded, still a little overwhelmed by what just happened. "Yes, yes I'd love to. 5pm? Hopefully this time I'll remember..." I chuckled and Jamal quickly joined in. The situation now blurred into a sweet moment as we stood in the stadium that was completely empty. I smiled as I looked up at him. His eyes drifted to my lips before they met mine again.

"You better stay away from the door frames."

________________________________________________________

my first piece on here, yayyy ig

[izpics]

Tim Öhrström (guitar) and John Alfredsson (drums), Fargo ND, 2018

[fandumb-whimsey]

I don't think I can ever watch Caped Crusader. It's going to be impossible to dissect it from BTAS and, even from watching the trailer, I can tell it's going to annoy me.

[would-you-punt-them]

I just want to tell you this:

Thank You So, SO Much for informing people about the horrid Mr. Beast situation occurring within his Squid Game Beast Games.

I don’t think would’ve known about this awful and disgusting event occurring as much as I do now if you didn’t post about it on this blog.

Thank you.

I do think it isn't something that should be brushed under the rug, and I also feel that the more people know about it, the worse it becomes for Jimmy when the Beast Games show actually comes out.

One thing I forgot to include in the post is that the Las Vegas shoot is going to be uploaded on YouTube as an extended qualifier to the actual show on Amazon Prime.

It's worth noting that the contestants didn't know that until they arrived at the stadium. They'd been told that the Las Vegas shoot was the Amazon show, and there would only be 1,000 competitors (which is how it is marketed by Amazon). They only learned that the player-count had doubled and this wasn't going to be on Prime once they were on set, and were shown a video message from Jimmy saying he forgot to mention that actually there were 2,000 people and this wasn't the Amazon show (though MrBeast later claimed that this was always the intent).

I don't know when the video(s) will be uploaded, but I honestly can't wait because I'm dying to know how they're planning on editing the footage to cut out the horrors that took place during the challenges.

Like, how are they going to show the Red team losing the first challenge with the rope and pulley? On the one hand, surely they've got to show the 400 people who were eliminated in that challenge. But on the other hand... what exactly do they have to work with?

The production team refused the Red team's pleas to stop the challenge and demanded they keep going to the end, presumably because they needed them to do it for the sake of the video. Instead, anti-capitalist icons that they are, the entire team abandoned the challenge mid-way anyway so they could go help their teammates who were literally being strangled, throwing the game. And once they'd abandoned the rope, they never picked it up again.

Obviously, the producers can't show competitors being throttled. But that means that they also can't explain why the Reds lost the challenge. If the throttling happened toward the end, maybe they'll be fine, but if it happened closer to the middle, there's no way for them to explain why those 400 people just gave up so early.

It also presumably means any overhead shots of all the teams are ruined, because that would require them to explain why the Reds just aren't participating.

Maybe they could show the Reds giving up, but give a different reason. But no reason I can think of works. If they say they "tried their best but knew they couldn't win", they would then also have to answer the question of why the challenge was impossible for them - the reason being that their team of 400 consisted of about 380 women, while their opposing teams consisted almost entirely of the youngest and strongest male competitors.

And I'm not sure how they're going to explain that, because if they show the challenge of everyone going for coloured jerseys, they can't reveal why the teams ended up so unbalanced, as the actual reason is that the male contestants were hoarding jerseys and were physically violent against the female and elderly contestants, and organised themselves to guarantee they were all on the same team, resulting in a gender split.

I'm also not sure how they plan to edit around challenges like the briefcase game, where in the middle of the cramped field the male contestants were attacking and trampling the women. It's going to take a lot of editing to cut around that. And while they can edit out the injuries occurring they can't edit out the fact that by the end of the challenge there are suspiciously fewer female contestants remaining than there were to begin with.

Additionally, they're going to have to justify why the contestants started off so diverse in gender and age, only for the 1,000 who made it to the actual Amazon show predominantly being young and male, without it becoming clear that no one else had any chance. They can't introduce new contestants to re-diversify the cast, because 1,000 were promised by Amazon, 1,000 qualified, and people will complain if they try to fudge the numbers or cheat by introducing last-minute entries, which is especially bad now that he's currently under fire for allegedly faking and rigging competitions.

Jimmy also can't just not upload it at all, because then he'd have to explain that as well, and this is such a massive event people, both fans and detractors, are going to notice.

The more people know about it, the worse his situation becomes, because there's just no way out of it without inviting questions he doesn't want people to know the answers to.

While this is obviously too much to hope for in this timeline, in an ideal world enough people start talking about this that Amazon cancels his show due to the controversy - Jimmy has said Beast Games is intended to be his break into more traditional media, and I think it would be nice to shut that down.

[luveline]

𝐢𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐠𝐨 𝐛𝐚𝐝 | 𝐚𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐧 𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐧𝐞𝐫

when an unknown intruder breaks into your apartment, you call hotch. he races to make it to you in time. requested here. fem!reader, 3.7k

cw home invasion, assault, attempted sexual assault, reader is badly hurt/held at gunpoint, please read with care for the content warnings above

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

"Hotch?" you whisper into the phone, your voice barely audible. 

"Who is this?" 

Hotch doesn't always look at who's calling at night, he just answers. Bad habit. You curl in on yourself where you're on your knees in the closet, trying not to wheeze breathlessly down the receiver. "Hotch, it's me. I need you to come and help me." 

"What's wrong?" He doesn't ask why you're whispering. "Are you at home?" 

"There's someone in my apartment." 

"You're sure?" 

You shift backwards into the embrace of your hanging coats and dresses. It feels as though tens of hands are petting your shoulders, a shiver racing along your spine as a floorboard creaks somewhere in your kitchen. 

"I heard them open my door. I don't have my taser, I…" You stop talking when you hear more movement, terrified you'll be discovered. Regret clings to you. How many times has Morgan offered to teach you self defence personally? "I don't know how they got inside."

It doesn't take more than that for Hotch to click into work mode. "Stay on the phone with me. Don't talk. I'm going to put you on hold to call Morgan. I will be ten seconds at most. Don't panic. Don't hang up. If you think you can leave without being seen or heard, leave, but if you can't, don't show him where you are." 

The invader's footsteps track to the bedroom. You know at once that your tired mind isn't hallucinating a bad scenario to keep you up —this is real. 

You had the hindsight to close your laptop and push it under the bed along with your go-bag, a rucksack full of clothes that you take on cases in different states as part of the BAU. You'd made a quick assessment —your job more than prepared you for this— based on the little information you had. Either the invader knows nothing about you and has assumed you'd be home, or they watch you enough to think you'd be elsewhere. If they think you're here, you're in danger of being assaulted, kidnapped, or murdered. If they think you're away, you're in danger of being robbed. One scenario is a thousand times more preferable than the other. 

You can't help but think of the horrible things you've seen. You know intimately what kind of damage one person can do to someone at their mercy. 

The hold sound is a quiet droning that freaks you out. If you can hear it, the intruder might be able to, too. Like the low hum of the fridge at night or the bumping of the dyer. 

You hang up the phone. 

"I know you're here." 

Your pulse flies through the roof. It pounds so hard you can feel it everywhere, the tip of your nose, your eyelashes. You look through the dark of your closet and panic in the fullest definition of the word. Your heart can't sustain this for long. 

You failed to think of a third possibility. The intruder watches you enough to know you're home. The BAU has a lot of enemies. Anyone could be waiting for you on the other side of the door.

"Come out and I'll be kind," the intruder sing-songs.

You type out a text with shaking hands, your message nearly illegible. 

They knowa 8m hjome. Cant talkk dontcall me

Thirty seconds elapse. A reply comes through. You smother the chirp with your chest. It sounds loud as a shot in the relative quiet. 

Police dispatch 5mins. I'm 10mins. Morgan 12. I will be there as soon as I can. Protect yourself 

That's easy for him to say. You drop your phone in defeat but scramble to pick it up again when you realise it's your best weapon. Or… You crawl to the opposite end of the closet to your shoe rack and slide the shoes apart with honey slow movements, your breath coming in quick, too-loud pants. You never expected to feel this way, you thought you'd know exactly what to do, how to react, but this feels outside of reality. 

You brace the long heel of a shoe between your fingers. Your hand is a vice. 

In your bedroom, the intruder goads you. "I know you're home, Y/N. There's only so many places for me to look, you know? But if you make me check each one, I'll be unhappy when I find you." 

What the fuck? you think. Breaking apart the fear like a knife is anger, a new shot of adrenaline. Who is this guy? You want to spring from the closet and show him how unhappy you are, but your chances of survival improve the longer you can hide. If he has a gun, that's it. You could be dead in the next two minutes. No amount of anger would save you. 

You could be dead in the next two minutes. 

thank you dpr everything, for being my friend aaron, you text. You know how embarrassing it will be to have said goodbye if nothing bad happens to you, but you also know how haunted Hotch will be if he can't get to you in time. You aren't foolish enough to unravel your feelings for him over text, but you're sentimental enough to think they'd matter to him. He'd want to know. 

If things go bad please knoeew that I loved my life and my work and you and the tram more than anything

After a moment, you add, If things don't go bad please nevrr mentiom this 

Footsteps at the closet door. A pause that feels gargantuan, the silence so heavy it threatens to snap the floorboards beneath your knees. 

"Found you." 

You leap up and throw yourself at the closet door as hard as you can, gasping when it swings on the hinges and clips your opposition in the leg. You don't think, you don't look at his face, you simply drive the point of your shoe into his collar. 

He gasps. Something hard and rigid whips upward, your neck snapping to one side as the skin of your cheek splits, gunmetal glancing off of bone. You drop down onto your ass, half out of necessity and half to get away from the pain. You can't outrun it, nor can you escape the forthcoming assault, grunting in shock as the bottom of the gun comes down atop your head. It was likely meant to incapacitate you, but all it does is hurt. 

You flip onto your front, stagger onto your hands and knees, and launch yourself up through the bedroom doorway. You only have to get away. 

He sweeps your legs from under you barely ten feet down the hall. 

You fall. Your knees hit the hallway slats and your face follows, the nerve endings in your teeth ringing one by one and your eyes tearing up as your nose makes a huge thwacking sound. Gasping, you rush to cover your face though the damage is done. Your gasp turns to a sob, hands quickly wetted by blood. 

"Stupid bitch," he hisses. 

You crawl into the kitchen. He steps on the back of your thigh. 

"I have a G43 pointed straight at the back of your fucking head."

"Good for you?" you say, eyes squeezed closed. 

You whimper as he grinds his foot into your leg. 

"Don't think I won't use it when I'm done with you." 

You shake your head from side to side. That can't be what he's here for.

You should ask him what he wants, or threaten him with the approaching police sirens. You should've tried to climb out of your fire escape. You should've set the door alarm as soon as you came home, but you're just so fucking tired lately you must've forgot. Everything feels like a chore. Right now, you're exhausted. 

"What are you going to do?" he asks you. 

You won't negotiate. You don't answer.

Forceful, no time to protect yourself, he kicks you in the side of the face. It hurts worse than the fall, that shattering pain like a firework under your skin. You struggle to keep your mouth shut, hoping that your whining cry is less audible to him than it is to you, scrambling backward toward the cabinets. You're defeated. Maybe you deserve it, for it to happen so easily. Three minutes and you're down. 

"I asked you what are you going to do, Agent?" 

"What am I supposed to say?" you ask. Even to your own ears, you sound pathetic. 

"Whatever I want you to. Now get up, honey." You cringe. "Unless you want to stay on the floor like a dog?" 

"Don't call me that," you say, wincing at the grinding sensation of your jaw. 

"What, a dog? Or… honey?" His tone is smug. "I thought you'd like that. It's what your boss calls you, isn't it? Late at night when he drops you off. Not strictly professional." 

You groan and turn onto your side. The police sirens are getting close. You live in a busy place near a main road, the sirens could be for anybody, but you need them to be for you.

"Get up, honey. You can pretend I'm him, if you like. I'll make it easy on you. I can be nice." 

You deliberate. Do as he says, or risk further agitation. Do what he says. Live to see the end of the night. 

Or drag it out. Give Hotch enough time to get here. 

"You'll pretend to be him?" you ask, sniffing. You can't tell if you're crying or there's blood on your face. 

"Aw. To begin with, sure." 

You sit up. For the first time, you look your attacker in the face. It's difficult to tear your eyes from the barrel, but you do. He has a cruel face, as tall and formidable as Hotch is but with none of his lightness. You put on your softest expression, gazing at him through tears. When you speak, the fear is real, even if you're attempting a facade. "You'll be gentle?" 

"No. You think he'd be gentle? Agent Hotchner?" His lip curls in disgust.

"I don't know," you mumble, looking down at the floor. "You said you'd be nice." 

"We both know you don't like nice." 

"I do," you say, finding your footing in the charade, the sorry victim, whatever he needs you to be for now. You hate giving him anything, but you know in the moment that you'll do what you need to do to save yourself from injury. "I haven't… I haven't done stuff in a long time, I can't just rush into things." 

The gun makes a quiet clicking sound as he points it with more fervour. "Like I believe that. You're probably fucking Hotchner on the side." 

There, that jealousy. He's been watching you, he knows where you live, what you want, and he's still convinced that you're fucking Hotch. It's not logical.

You cling to the threads, trying to pull apart his composure. You'd assumed him an anger-excitation rapist, unafraid to hurt you as he already has, but now you're thinking something else. 

"You think I'm sleeping with my boss? Why?" 

"Besides your constant need to be touching him? It's disgusting, you throw yourself at someone who doesn't want you. You're pathetic. I can make you better." 

You see movement in the corner of your vision. Dark hair, a stony expression. Hotch stands at the precipice of the kitchen in a bulletproof vest, a finger to his lips. Sh. 

Your relief knocks a breath out of you. The invader takes it for pain at being read. 

"Look," he says, softer. Not genuine softness, but practised. As soon as you give in, he'll drop it. You're both acting for one another, but only one of you is a profiler. "You'll forget all about Agent Hotchner once we're done. So just get up." 

You hold out your hand. His eyes light up with malice as he leans down to take it, his gun finally aimed away from your face. 

Hotch moves in. 

"Drop the weapon." 

Your attacker whirls. Hotch doesn't hesitate. Front sight, controlled trigger press, follow through. A bang like a clap of thunder fills the room. 

You flinch down into yourself. Everything goes a little white for a while, people running into the room, a gun skittling across your kitchen tile. Your ears ring from the bang of two bullets and you're sure you've been hit, you're hurting so much, but hands squeeze under your arms to tell you otherwise. 

"You're okay," Hotch says, knee against your thigh, face ducked down to meet your eyes. "Hey, can you hear me?" 

You shake your head. You can hear him, but you're far from okay. Hotch bites commands over his shoulder, holding your waist in his hands like he's worried you'll slip out of them. Tight. Too tight. You suck in as big a breath as you can manage and choke on it, coughing, the wild sting of your wounds a ringer. 

"You did so well," he says as he catalogues your injuries, his frown deepening. He tilts your head up to the light. 

"I knew you were on your way," you deflect.

"You were talking him down." 

"No, I was surrendering." 

"You didn't give in until you saw me. You weren't surrendering." 

"But I would have," you whisper, closing your eyes.

"Doing what you need to to survive isn't easy. But you do it." 

You hang your head. 

— 

Hotch winces at the sound of your skin being sewn closed. Morgan sits beside you in the back of the ambulance holding your hand, your fingers twitching between his with every tug. They dosed you and applied a general anaesthesia, but the pain is pervasive. His eyes keep moving back to your hand in Morgan's. He isn't jealous —he's annoyed with himself. Hotch should be the one holding your hand.

He should've hugged you. The absence of it feels awkward between you, though he's positive that that's the last thing you're thinking of right now.

"Will you have to set her nose?" Morgan asks. 

The paramedic shakes his head. "Not broken. Just very badly bruised. Even the bone." 

"That doesn't need a cast?" 

Hotch should hold your hand, should hug you, should be organising the scene. Should, should, should. The only thing he's managed to do since he incapacitated your stranger is watch you for signs of life. 

You're despondent. In shock, no doubt. You let your friends pass you from place to place with little more than pained sighs for input.

JJ does an excellent job of surveying the goings on, while Rossi and Reid take care of some of the bigger questions: who is this guy, what did he want, and how did it come to happen? 

What did he want? Hotch can guess. Rage collects like the heart of a furnace, a molten cup of steel in his throat as what he heard you say plays over and over in his head. 

You'll be gentle? 

No. You think he'd be gentle? Agent Hotchner?

He'll never forget the way you sounded asking that question. Terrified, begging for a scrap of mercy. 

Emily approaches from behind. "We have a name." Hotch tips his head to show he's listening. "Paulo Danvers. He was part of a crew that installed her security parameters a few months ago. He was vetted. This shouldn't have happened." 

"No, it shouldn't have." Hotch lowers his tone, "She said she wasn't sure she set the lock." 

"It wouldn't have mattered. He disengaged it from the outside." Emily takes a few steps closer to the ambulance. "Hey. Morgan taking care of you?" 

"Don't I always?" Morgan asks, clapping your arm gently. 

You don't answer. 

"What, you're not talking to me?" Emily asks. She's not mad, the opposite. Concern lines her eyes, thin brows pinching together at the starts, though she does her best to smile through it. 

"I don't feel well," you say quietly. 

"Yeah? You're not squeamish, are you?" 

"Don't think so." 

"It's shock," says the paramedic. 

"What's your pain like?" Hotch asks. He's the only person you'll give a straight answer to. "Bad?" 

"Yeah." Your hand is lax in Morgan's. 

"I can give you slow release tramadol to last the night or codeine pretty much immediately. It's up to you. And I'm really not comfortable with releasing you without next of kin. Do you have family in the area?" 

You shake your head. "It's just Hotch. Agent Hotchner," you correct yourself, nodding at him.

"You're her partner?" the paramedic asks. He can sense the disapproval. 

"Her boss." 

"Not her partner?" 

"He's my closest friend," you say. 

He's never heard you say that before, but it's true. 

"I wish you were my boss," the paramedic jokes, turning back to her supplies as she peels off her gloves. "Maybe I'd get better sick pay." 

You're given slow release tramadol and officially pronounced to be on the mend. If he didn't have an FBI badge, you'd be spending the night on a ward. He'd prefer if you did, but you clearly don't want to be somewhere alone right now, and he just wants to give you what you want after having your choices held over your head.  

He's not offended when Emily asks if you'd prefer to stay with her. It's harrowing what might have happened to you had you not heard the initial break in, and the perpetrator would've been a man like Hotch. Tall, white, dark-haired. He wouldn't blame you for needing space from him to feel safe tonight, but he's relieved when you turn her down. 

"You don't have to act like something happened to me," you say.

Hotch clicks down the locks of his car and turns on the overhead light. You squirm in the passenger seat, looking wrecked. Your chin is split, your nose a dark purple mess cut by white splint. You have a cut on your cheek and another just above your eye. 

"You don't think something happened?" he asks, hands on his legs. He can tell you wish he would start the car and take you home without pressing. 

"No, I know, I look awful, but he didn't do anything to me." Why is it so hard to say what it could have been? "You don't have to act like I'm gonna wig if you touch me." 

"You won't mind if I hug you?" he asks. 

"No. No, I want you to." 

It's thankfully a short gap to cover as Hotch leans over the console. He's careful of your face and still you mumble a tired, "Ouch," in his ear.

He rubs your back, slow and soft. "You okay?" he asks. 

You don't answer for a while. It doesn't matter, Hotch'll sit here in his parked car for hours if you want him to, hands on your hunched back. Your face hides away. He can feel and hear your distress building, and he wants you to cry if you need to, but it'll hurt.

"Sh," he hushes you gently, "it's okay." 

"I'm fine." You sound welled up. 

"Someone broke into your home and held you at gunpoint. You don't have to be fine." 

"Yeah, I do. It's my job." 

"No, that's not your job," he says, closing his eyes. "This has nothing to do with your job. This is about something bad happening to you. Don't put walls up now. It won't work, it never does." 

He tries to back away in case you're overwhelmed.

"Wait," you say, your panic like a cough. 

"I'm not going anywhere," he says. 

You sniffle, nodding into his chest. Hotch has comforted a hundred victims of violent assault. He's held the faces of women he didn't know hoping to give them something solid to lean on. But it's different with you, because you and Hotch aren't simply friends. There's a deeper vein of affection, and tonight's event is a jagged slash against it, bringing every unbidden feeling he has for you to the surface. He can't get how scared you sounded out of his head. He knows that feeling is still there. 

"How did you get here so fast?" you asked. 

"I took the side road. And went unavoidably fast." 

You make a small, small sound. He's known you for long enough to understand what it demarcates, unsurprised when the trembling of your shoulders turns to pained shaking. Hotch holds you delicately. He's done so much in his life, made a thousand and one mistakes, used a heavy hand when he could've been sweeter. He's determined to get this part right. 

"I'm with you now," he says. "I'm sorry I couldn't–" This is harder than he imagined. He presses on. "Couldn't protect you from the start." 

"You know why I called you?" you ask, your tone similarly soft. 

Hotch doesn't bother answering. The answer is unsaid, loudly heard. 

"I knew you'd come," you finish.

He puts a hand on your neck to encourage you into place, kissing the side of your head. Hotch will always come when you call. 

That night, you ask to sleep in his room. I'll sleep on the floor, just don't want to be alone. You're in ragtag clothes he'd scraped together for you, and after helping you wash the blood from your hair and face, you're even more impossible to say no to than usual, looking small in a way you haven't before. Hotch sets you up in bed next to him and wonders if he'll ever sleep next to someone he hasn't let down. 

You put that notion straight in your sleep. Hotch lays awake sick with the idea that he's failed you, and you, frowning, snoring, covered in cuts, curl into his side. You cling to his arm so hard he's certain you're awake at first, a bouquet of bruises painted across your cheek. 

Hotch pulls the blanket up over your shoulder, planting a chaste kiss to your forehead. 

He whispers your name, not sure what he'd say if you answered. 

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed♡ I haven't written long form (ish) for Hotch in a while so I'm nervous but I hope it's good!! let me know also if you'd like a second part cos usually I don't feel like there's much left to tell but for this one the could actually confess :o

[airbenderedacted]

Well, yeah, she cured his sexism.

Commander Peepers was not the only male character in Wander Over Yonder to continue to treat Lord Dominator as exactly the same threat she was before after they found out she was a woman so that you could call him sexist.

[gabriellessworldd]

Never get yo bitch back!

plug!connie x black fem reader 😛😛

wc- 1.7k!

☆ warnings ☆: mdni! mentions of weed nd alcohol, smut 18+, cheating (established relationship w eren), public-ish sex (bathroom unlocked door), pnv, oral (f receive), Connie and reader have wanted each other for a min, first time writing ever don't drag me y'all pls!! 😓 I kinda want to make this have multiple parts but idk yet. I'm very open to criticism nd I hope y'all enjoy!

"Y/nnnnn, cmon you can come outside for one night!" Your best friend Sasha whined through the screen. As much as you protested, deep down you really did want to go out. Especially because Eren wasn't at home, you really wanted to talk to him since y'all haven't been doing so well recently. Petty arguments, sleepless nights, ig posts, and to top it all off he hasn't been to your house in weeks, not giving y'all anytime to have a conversation.

You check the time and see it's 6:00pm that means you got at least 2-3 hours before you would have to leave. "Girl you right, send me the lo. What you wearin?" Sasha set her phone up to show you the outfit she picked out, "Girl that's cute asf!! Ima match you." Sasha helped you pick out an outfit (1 or 2) that resembled hers. "Okay Sash ima finish my hair nd makeup, lmk when yall otw there." "Bye N/n, i gotchu." Sasha hung up and you continued finishing your hair and makeup.

Once you were in your car you looked at the location, realizing that it was at Jean's house, meaning Connie would be there. There was something so attractive about Connie that you didn't know how to explain, he was just, mesmerizing. You knew you would never be able to approach him tho, him nd Eren had been friends forever, and that was a boundary you wouldn't cross. Nothing being crossfaded couldn't fix..

You pull in front of Jean's house and it's packed, you can hear the music from the street. You text Sasha that you pulled up and fix yourself in the car mirror. "We're waiting for you at the front N/n." You read Sasha's text and get out of your car. When you open the door Mikasa, Annie, Sasha, and some other girls greet you. You scan the crowd feeling a familiar stare, you turn to your right and see a crossfaded Connie Springer and his homeboys sitting on some sofas in the corner. Connie feels you stare back and smirks. 'This finna be interesting.' You think to yourself.

You make your way to the kitchen to take a couple shots, Sasha gets a blunt from Ony, and y'all head upstairs to light up. When the sesh is over you feel amazing, the music is blasting, you're having a great night, and you're a 10, what could be better? You and the girls head downstairs to go dance and enjoy your night. You and Sasha throw ass like there's no tomorrow and Mikasa is right there to catch it. You laugh and stand up straight when you feel the stare of those familiar hazel eyes. "Ima go grab another drink" you tell Sasha and she drukenly nods.

You walk up to the counter where all of the drinks are, "hey connie" you look at him, and smile. He leans in closer to you "wassup mami, you look good. shit, you smell good too." he smiles at you with all of his pearly white teeth and you notice his silver grillz.(#1, #2, #3) God he's so fine. The way his red eyes are hanging low, the smell of his cologne, and his pretty ass accent, triple homicide.

"Where yo man at tho? Thought he was gon come tonight." Connie's confused as to why Eren isn't at this party trailing you like a lost puppy, unless, y'all wasn't on speaking terms right now. He grinned at the thought "Oh um Ion really-" You stuttered out wondering why he would ruin a good conversation. "Nah you ain gotta answer mami, follow me." He held his hand out with a 'hm' and you quickly took it, needing to feel his touch. He lead you upstairs to the first bathroom he saw, he opened the door, "Tu vas primero hermosa" you go first beautiful. You smiled at the sentence and walked in front of him. His eyes naturally trailed down to the best view there was 'Damn.' was all he thought as he watched you walk and felt himself get harder in his sweats.

"So wassup?" You questioned him, almost like a challenge. You leaned your back against the counter and looked into his eyes. "To be honest ion wanna play no games ma, you know what I want." He leaned towards you, muscular and veiny arms on both sides of you, caging you in.

You could feel the tension grow as both of you realized just how badly you needed the other. "Can I?" Connie asks to kiss you 'and he's respectful omg add that to the list' you think, "Yes, you can." As soon as those three words came out of your mouth, Connie grabbed the back of your neck and pulled you to him, his other hand quickly found your ass and squeezed, while your hands slid their way into his scruffy buzzcut. The kiss was passionate but it also had a hint of hunger, longing almost, like both of you waited your whole lives for this. Both of your tongues fighting for dominance, and both of you wanted, no, craved more from each other. Connie's large hand found it's way to your throat and he squeezed softly earning a light moan from you, Connie pulled away, a string of saliva connecting you two.

"Ay dios mio mami" oh my god Connie whispered. Connie littered bites and hickeys down your neck and exposed cleavage, not caring who would see. He tapped on your thigh, a signal for you to stand so he could remove your pants. He then picked you up and set you back down on the counter, he kissed the insides of your thighs and left a trail of bites. He looked up at you for confirmation, and you nodded your head, he pulled your panties to the side. Connie was in a trance, the way your folds were so puffy, the way they were covered in wetness, connie almost came in his pants at the sight. "Fuck." was all he said before he began kissing and sucking on your lips. He spread them open with his middle and index finger, and could've sworn he saw heaven.

He plunged his fingers inside your wet hole, sucking on your clit while he pumped his fingers in you nice and slow. "Fuck con" you let out a soft moan, it was like music to his ears. He worked his fingers a little faster and curled them up grazing over your spot. "o-oh fuck connie mmhm, right there" He came up, bottom half of his face covered in your sweet juices "You taste so sweet, princesa" and with that he went back down and devoured you like you were his last meal. "a-ah mm con. That feels soo good" you whispered, feather light moans. You could feel the knot in your stomach tightening as he pushed his tongue in and out of your hole. "Cmon mami let me hear you." he felt you squeeze his tongue and pull his hair, that was enough to let him know. He pushed his fingers back in and started pumping at an insane speed.

"Go ahead ma, let me taste all of you" Your thighs tightened around his head as you felt your high coming. "ah connie 'm gonna cum, fuck!" you moaned out louder than before, he curled his fingers again, making you throw your head back and squeeze your eyes closed. "Joder, eres tan deliciosa." damn, you're so delicious.

Connie stood up and your hands immediately found the band of his sweats and boxers, in one tug you pulled them both down. "Eager much huh mami? Well I expect you to take it all then." Your eyes widened at the statement but your thoughts were cut short when you heard him speak again. "Turn around for me mami, and don't take your eyes off the mirror." The dominance in his voice made you even wetter. You turned around towards the mirror and he slid off your panties.

He smeared his tip on your folds, collecting your wetness. Without warning he pushed his full length in, starting off with slow strokes. "Fuck mami, you're squeezing me so tight" You arched your back a little more and relaxed. He starts moving quicker and palms the fat of your ass.

Connie props one of your legs on the counter and smacks your ass. "f-fuck connie oh!" hearing you get louder, not caring if anyone could hear you, only riled him up more. He snaked his hand around your throat pulling your head up more so you could see what a mess he made of you. Your lip liner gone, mascara smeared on your damp bottom eyelashes, and a fucked out expression. Connie thought you looked perfect.

"Y-yes mami, take all t-this dick" you hear him stutter his calm demeanor fading away as he fucks into you at an unruly pace. "Ah! Con so good. i-it's so big" He smacks your ass again and continues fucking you.

He pulls out and you pout feeling empty "Calmate princesa." calm down princess He chuckles and flips you on your back then he pulls your hips closer to him. He pushes back into you, not wasting any time. Connie pushes your legs back a little more "Keep 'em right there ma." You hold the back of your knees with your hands, feeling connie's tip hit all the right places, Connie places a heavy hand on your lower stomach and he presses down. "a-ah con please! it feels soo good." You and Connie both feel yourselves about to cum.

"Con 'm about to cum! ah please Connie!" You can feel your thighs starting to shake, "g-go ahead mami, fuck you're so perfect. m-make a mess all over me." Connie rubs on your sensitive bud and keeps fucking you deep. You can feel a wave of pleasure wash over you and your vision turns white. "Ah! Connie fuck 'm cumming!" You yell, "f-fuck me too ma." You notice his voice falter and crack at the end, he sounds so angelic. He pulls out and hot, white, ropes coat your tummy.

Connie begins wiping off your stomach and he leans in to kiss you, but he sees something in the corner of his eye, almost like a, figure. "Shit" Connie says blankly, putting his pants back on. You scramble to put your clothes back on and turn to see Eren standing there looking pissed.

"what.. what the fuck is wrong with y'all?"

Whew chileeeee. y'all did I at least nibble or what 👀 but lmk if I should make this multiple parts, also give me title ideas!! lmk if y'all want to be tagged in the next parts! love u all nd I hope y'all had as much fun reading as I had writing this! (watch nb read ts #embarrasing 😰)

- with lots of love, gabrielle <3

[aqours]

what really got to me in the trailer is how Homura looked so sinister, how genuinely happy she was to see Madoka happy without her being involved, and how. tired she was at the end.

the first real shot we get of her looking particularly triumphant, asking her opponent if they can shoulder what she now shoulders, immediately followed by a slideshow of Homura's trauma throughout the show and someone telling her (likely Sayaka as she refers to Madoka as "my best friend," or it could be Madoka herself addressing Homura, as she also calls Homura "her very best friend.") to release her as words float on the screen also making it clear how highly Homura thinks of Madoka.

"This world is for Madoka."

but she only looks. completely, genuinely happy the whole time in a way that isn't a look of triumph watching Madoka have fun. watching her genuinely enjoy herself in that gilded cage she created.

and by the end she looks so. tired. like she looks exhausted.

Homura is an evil demon. that's what she became when she committed an unforgivable sin: ripping off the wings of a goddess and dragging them down to earth.

and she did it all for one person and her happiness, even if its unwanted. she's happy when Madoka is happy in her cage, and wants to protect that cage at all costs: even her own happiness. she's clearly not happy with her own situation. being evil sucks. not being close to Madoka sucks. and the only way to ensure what she feels is Madoka's happiness is to be her enemy. it's so tragic, everything she does and ever will do is for Madoka's sake, no matter how twisted and warped it is. the only thing a child who was never allowed to grow up in 10+ years can think of.

the world is for Madoka. that's the crux of everything the devil called Homura Akemi does. it's for Madoka. it's absolutely not for her.

and it makes me. constantly think of that thing that Madoka's seiyuu once said in a Q&A:

no matter what happens, Homura is Homura, and Madoka will adore her, even if they're now enemies. this is the last thing in the world Madoka would want for her. Madoka would want to save Homura no matter the cost.

i think of Madoka fully realized what was happening, her greatest wish would be for Homura to just have the good night's sleep she clearly desperately needs.

"Falling in love with someone is wonderful, so don't call yourself the devil. I love you."

[cashmoneyyysstuff]

Crying bc that could never be me bc I never really had close guy friends when I was young please write a one shot or something of childhood friends y/n and Katsuki of Katsuki being immune to cooties and bringing these tendencies to UA together 😭

eeeee i was secretly hoping someone would ask me to talk about this more tehhehehe here you go ! I didn’t rlly get what you meant with him carrying the cootie thing to high school so i wrote this around your ask a lil, hope you don't mind ! i tried honoring your request as best i can, hope you enjoy !

fem reader, polar opposite’s trope except not POLAR opposite’s cus yn is a little shit on the low, mitsuki favoritism lol, mitsuki and katsuki arguing n bein sassy, katsuki gets embarrassed, mitsuki is mischievous, katsuki calling his mother old, yn calls mitsuki ‘miss’, pure fluff honestly, say it with me CHILDHOOD FRIENDS TO LOVERS TROPE WOHOOOO, mentions of making out n kissing, established relationship, cooties lol, lemme know if i missed sum else <3 !!

katsuki wants to do one of three things right now : dissapear, sink into the floor or die—and the more he hears his old hag babbling on and on to you with a familiar photo album in her lap, the more he's starting to find the all three options tempting.

" oh look, this was at you guys' kindergarten graduation ! you were both soooo small, do you remember that ?! "

he hears his mom gush from the other bigger living room couch she's sitting on with you. it's been 15 minutes since you had come over to his house and the plan was for you guys to hang out, watch a movie and get a make out session in before you leave or preferably have you sleep over.

that was the plan, until his old hag came and fucked it up.

15 minutes since she'd dragged you over to the couch and talked your ear off about whatever the fuck moms talk about and you, being the sweetheart that you are, listened patiently the whole time, chatting and giggling out jokes easily. katsuki really, really doesn't know how you do it but he sure as hell respects you for it.

you'd always insisted on being polite with his mom, something about staying in her good graces after you guys had started dating. katsuki thinks that's extremely stupid because his mom has loved you since that day in elementary school when he'd dragged you over to her, his little hand gripping yours tightly and proudly exclaiming you were the one he was gonna marry. you were sweeter and calmer than he was by far and she was immediatly enamoured with you. katsuki's damn near sure she loves you more than she loves him. that in itself isn't the problem. the problem was that she's been hogging you ever since you walked in the door.

usually, katsuki's fast enough to drag you up to his room before she can get her claws in you, but he wasn't fast enough today and that's how he ended up in his current predicament.

" and this one when you came over for christmas—oh, katsuki begged me to let you stay over, you know ? you cannot believe how loud he can get when he doesn't get his way, started rolling around on the floor n' everything ! "

katsuki feels his ears redden the more he listens to this conversation and he wishes so bad for you guys to just fucking go. he could go to his room and avoid this entire conversation in theory, but he'd rather avoid his mom telling you some other embarrassing stories that you absolutely do not need to know about, so he concedes and tries his best to drown the conversation out, scrolling on his phone.

"ou, i have an adorable picture of katsuki in the bath let me find—"

" DON'T FUCKIN’ SHOW HER THAT, HAG ?! " katsuki shrieks, startling you, his mom looks surprised for no more than a milisecond before shooting him a nasty glare unphased by her son's outburst. "what's got you pipin' up now, brat ?" she asks unimpressed.

katsuki practically zooms over and snatches the album away from his mother's grip, shooting her a glare identical to her own. " i'm gonna burn this in your sleep one of these days, i swear. " he grumbles, trudging off to put the album back on one of the shelves of his living room and ignoring his mom wishing him good luck with that. katsuki feels like he's lost a battle when he hears you giggle quietly when he turns away, no doubt his mother had said something about how he was embarrassed to have you see his baby pictures. he vows to get revenge and thinks the best way to start is by throwing this cursed collection of pictures on an open fire. he decides to just put it back on the shelf for now.

“ what a spoilsport, am i right ?” mitsuki nudges you with her shoulder and you giggle at what katsuki personally finds a horrible joke. to each their own though, or whatever.

katsuki scoffs to himself. he makes his way back to the couch and stands in front of you both, arms crossed.

“you done hoggin’ my girlfriend now or are you gonna keep yappin’ some more ?” mitsuki scoffs at her son’s words, wrapping her arms around your frame and pulling you against her tightly when she sees katsuki’s hand creeping towards you, assuming he'd try to pull you away.

“ i’m sure you can be patient for a little longer, as hard as i know it is for you.” you hear katsuki scoff out an insult under his breath, mitsuki pays it no mind. “besides, yn has been enjoyin’ our conversation so far, haven’t ya sweetie ?” she asks. you, again, being the sweet thing that you are, happily nod with a smile. mitsuki looks up at her son with a smug look, her expression screams “see ?”.

“ she’s only agreein’ cus yer fuckin’ holdin’ her hostage.” katsuki grumbles. he feels his patience dwindling at a pace that should definitely be alarming. he looks at you and feels his heart flutter when you offer him an apologetic smile. his patience returns the slightest bit.

“hostage ? don’t be ridiculous katsuki—” then it’s as if a lightbulb goes off, katsuki can practically see it gleaming above her head and he really doesn’t like it.

“he’s always been like that y’know ? all clingy—you remember that right ?!”the excitement in her voice becomes more prominent when she sees you nod enthusiastically. katsuki has a strange, foreboding feeling about this.

“ i remember he’d constantly want you around holdin’ his hand everywhere. one time—" she pauses as she bursts into giggles that, to katsuki, sound more like witch cackles than anything.

“one time you refused to hold his hand because you got scared he’d get cooties” she chuckles. katsuki feels his stomach drop.

“but he said that wouldn’t happen because he was too strong to get them !”

fuck patience.

katsuki grabs you and stalks off so fast you feel like you’re floating a little bit. he quickly yells out a “we’re goin’ to my room, don’t fuckin’ bother us !” then he’s quickly running up the stairs with you in tow. it’s only when you get to the hallway that leads to his bedroom that he looks back at you. he rolls his eyes when he sees you clearly fighting back a laugh.

“be quiet.”

“i didn’t even say anything yet !” you defend, giggling at the same time. katsuki fights back a smile at the sound.

“yeah, but you were going to and i don’t wanna hear it.” he bites. he squeezes your hand afterwards, telling you it was a joke in his own way. in actuality, katsuki could listen to you talk for hours and hours, days on end without getting bored. you’re being a brat right now though, so he won’t tell you that.

you smile at his back as katsuki drags you along muttering to himself about how he “never should’ve left you with that old witch for so long.”

“i remember that, y’know ? the cootie thing.” you admit jokingly. walking up a little faster you catch up to him and walk side by side. he glances at you from the corner of his eye then looks away and scoffs “of course you do.” he groans.

“ you’re mom didn’t mean to embarrass you, i’m sure.” you try to console him despite still snickering at the memory of his face going beet red after his mom had ‘exposed’ him. “and it was nice to see those pictures. it felt all...nostalgic.” you reminisce about the summer days you’d spent over the years with your katsuki with a smile. remembering the days of adventures and melting ice cream. of waterparks and bandaged covered knees.

katsuki doesn’t make a sound next to you and you think he’s just ignoring you until he speaks again, the scowl on his face threatens to melt away. “that old bat had it out for me the entire time. she’s fuckin’ evil incarnate, just doesn’t show it to you.” he feels prideful when he hears you laugh “that’s mean !” you scold through giggles, but his smirk says he’s seen through you. he comes to a stop and backs you up until your back is against the wall.

“yer laughin’ though. not as much of an angel as you’re pretending to be, are ya ?” he teases, leaning in closer to you until your noses brush. you try to fight back the smile that pulls at your mouth but it doesn’t work and after a moment you’re giggling again. katsuki swears every time you laugh an angel gets its wings. he steals a sloppy kiss to hear the sound again.

your hands play with the hem of his plain black shirt. he’s handsome, too handsome. his outfit consisted of a plain black t-shirt and some sweatpants yet he still looks like a model and it makes you want to kiss him silly, call it revenge for looking so good.

“ i’m not pretending to be anything, definitely not an angel.” you chuckle “unlike you, i’m just being nice.” you stick your tongue at him and he chuckles. rolling his eyes, he scoffs. his warm hands reflexively start running up and down your waist.

“yeah well, that’s cus unlike me your ass gets to go home. you’d be less nice if you were stuck in here like i am.” you playfully roll your eyes at his dramatics

“i doubt that. besides, miss mitsuki likes me !”

“she’ll get mad at you for callin’ her miss again.” you gasp, quickly clasping your hand over your mouth as if his mom would hear you from here. katsuki’s snort makes you snort as well.

“c’mon” he urges after a minute, grabbing at your hand and tugging at it “we’re goin’ to my room.” he mumbles out a “fuckin’ finally” and you laugh.

then you get an idea.

you suddenly rip your hand from his and katsuki immediately stops dead in his tracks to stare back at you like you had just insulted him. you let out a tiny snort at his expression.

“the hell are you doin’ ?”

you clasp your hands behind your back and sigh, even looking down at the floor sadly for extra dramatic effect “we can’t risk it, suki.”

“hah ?” katsuki fully turns to you, slowly starting to grow worried at your sudden shift in attitude. “what’re you talking about ?”

“i mean..if we hold hands..” you slowly look up at him, revealing your shit eating grin “you might get cooties..”

katsuki looks at you for about 15 seconds with an incredulous look on his face and you burst out laughing. he’s definitely one of the most expressive people you’d ever met, so seeing what kind of faces he’ll makes next is always fun.

he walks over, grabs your hand and squeezes hard, as punishment you assume. you yelp through giggles.

you hear him let out a disappointment sigh when he turns his back to you and drags you to his room again. you happily follow along behind him like you’d done for years now.

"i really shouldn't have left you with that old hag for so long." he mutters bitterly. you let out a snort and smile to yourself, content that your plan to mess with your boyfriend ended up being succesful. you perk up when he suddenly huffs out a laugh.

" and anyways, i won't be gettin' any cooties. m'too cool for 'em." you laugh out loud and the way he grips your hand a little tighter tells you you don't need to see his face to know he's proud of that.

"what if i have them ?" you challenge in between snickers.

katsuki scoffs dissaprovingly, you can basically see him rolling his eyes despite his back being to you.

"you don't. only losers get cooties. and as far as i know, you're not a loser." he's a little embarrassed because this is reminding him too much of when you were kids and it makes him cringe. when he'd come up with excuses like him being 'too strong' or 'too cool' to get cooties because he just couldn't admit he simply wanted you close. "yer anythin' but." you hear him mumble.

you walk up next to him with a somewhat shy smile "i'm flattered you think of me that way." you confess.

"don't let it get to your head." katsuki quips. you respond by sticking your tongue at him again. he tries to ignore the loud thumping of his heart but it's not going too smoothly for him. his cheeks slowly redden and he looks away from you again, not before shooting you an eyeroll.

"hope you know you owe me extra cuddle time for wastin' it talkin' to my ma." katsuki adds, changing the subject. you smile up at him in response and offer him a sweet 'mhm !'

his mom may have embarrassed the shit out of him, but he figures it wasn't all bad. he's still deadset on destroying that photo album before she ends up showing you that picture of him in the bath, though. he'll think about a plan later but right now he plans to enjoy his cuddle time with you, cootie free.

[inevesgf]

UNDER THE LIGHTS • LANDO NORRIS

catching lando norris' eye at a halloween party isn't the best of attention you could ensnare, especially when you're masking your not-so-innocent personality with white wings and a halo.

content + warnings: 18+ smut with plot, p in v, female!reader, swearing, dirty talking, semi-public sex, no strings attached, mentions of alcohol + drinking, slightly intoxicated sex, clitorial stimulation, teasing!reader, mentions of bruises, unprotected sex. word count 2.5k.

even though lando isn't one of my favorite drivers, damn he is so fun to write for. if you would like to be tagged in upcoming works from this special, click the link here ⋆·˚ ༘ * notes + reblogs are heavily appreciated and don't forget to tell me your thoughts via comment, reblog or ask.

as you entered the party an intoxicating mix of laughter and music filled your ears, the bright lights casting shadows that danced upon the wall. light smoke filtered through the air, adding to create the perfect atmosphere as your friends piled in behind you. 

dressed in a flowing white gown that draped elegantly on your body, you looked like a vision of light — an unexpected twist for someone who usually wore their sarcasm like armor. oversized wings – feathered and slightly askew – fluttered behind you as you glided into the crowd. a halo perched atop your head, glimmering with an almost mocking brilliance.

you were beyond the frame of innocence or elegance, which almost made your costume all the more perfect, masking your true nature. even though you had thrown the outfit together with items from your closet, eyes hungrily fell onto you as you made your way deeper into the party, a certain pair catching your own gaze with a look of mischief.

it wasn’t until you looked forward and saw lando with his jaw slightly slack that you knew that you had picked the right costume. besides his external shock, there was a hint of a smirk that formed on his lips, his eyes hungry for something that made your stomach turn in excitement.

floating through the crowd, you swiped a shot from the tray a wait-staff member held above their shoulders, you pulled the glass to your lips, quickly downing the alcohol inside.with a satisified hum from your lips, you began your advance towards lando, the amber liquid swirling inside you like a tiny storm as you discarded the empty shot glass onto a nearby table.

“an angel at a party full of sinners,” lando’s voice erupted over the pounding sound of the music, “that’s pretty ironic. couldn’t find a better costume?” a roaring laugh fell past his lips, causing you to playfully roll your eyes before scanning his body. “i could say the same for you – you look exactly like how you dress everyday. it’s a little souless.” you teased, sucking your bottom lip under your teeth as a look of mischief decorated your face.

lando grumbled, taking a sip of the murky gin and tonic that he held lazily in this hand, taking a step closer in order to hear your voice better over the loud music. “i’m a vampire, duh!” he jokingly grumbled, looking down at you with a hint of admiration in his eyes, though his words didn’t show it. “it’s a funny act you got going on, yknow – dressed all innocent, but everyone here knows you’re anything but that.”

you forced out a dry laugh at his words, adjusting the halo that sat above your head as if to mock him. the playful banter between you two was barely audible over the blasting music, but then tension in the air was palpable. “next year, i’m going as the devil. much more fitting, don’t you think?” you cocked, the same stupid smirk decorating your face as if to egg him on with your words, itching to get under his skin.

“definitely,” lando snickered, leaning in just a tad more to the point you could feel the heat radiating off his body, “because right now you’re not fooling anyone.” a satisfied hum fell from your lips, knowing his words were mostly correct. your eyes pooled into his hazel ones as if to undress him simply with your gaze. with hungry eyes, you looked over his costume, his slightly unbuttoned white button-up working perfectly as it fit snug upon his triceps.

“do you bite? since you’re a vampire and all..” a teasing tone poisoned your words, a challenging look decorating your visage. lando chucked dryly at your words, a smirk of surprise coming to rest on his face. he took a small step forward, bringing his head down so he could whisper in your ear, “only if you want me to.” the words sent a shiver down your spine, the smitten look that laid upon your face only growing larger.

you brought your finger to your lips, shushing lando as you pulled him by the collar into the bar bathroom, locking the door behind the two of you. almost immediately, lando’s calloused hands were on you, his fingers carefully trailing down your body as his lips met yours. the kiss was sloppy and hungry, your bodies pulled tightly against each other as the alcohol only suited to broaden the moment. 

lando’s hands came down to grip your ass, pulling the hem of your dress up slightly as he squeezed the flesh, eliciting a soft moan from your lips into the kiss. his touch all over you made you feel dirty, and you loved it, your previous sexual tension now finally able to have a place to release itself.

as lando began to pull the hem of your dress up, bunching it around your waist to reveal your lacey thong, you laughed into the kiss, your lips briefly detaching from his. “so eager, huh?” you teased, yet your fingers found themselves delicately coming to unbutton his button-up, your gaze eating him up like a full course meal.

“only for you,” lando growled, his hands lazily resting up your hips as you began to undress him, “especially when you dress like this – all sweet and innocent when i know deep down you’re so dirty.” you laughed sweetly, letting his shirt fall off his shoulders and onto the bathroom floor as you brought your soft lips to his jawline, placing a delicate kiss on his cheek.

“wanna find out?” you breathed against your skin, your manicured nails eagerly finding their way to undo his black dress pants. lando’s breath caught in his throat at your confidence, the usual dominant man melting in your touch. “i’d be sick and twisted to say no,” he smirked, letting your hands dance all over your skin.

as if to regain any bit of dominance he could have had, lando picked you up, his strong arms wrapping around your thighs as he set you onto the sink counter. a small giggle escaped your mouth before you bit your bottom lip, tangling the flesh under your teeth. landos lips immediately landed on your nip, licking and sucking sweetly at your soft skin as he stood between your legs, spreading them with his action.

as he peppered your neck with kisses, his teeth joining in on his movements as he marked your skin, his fingers hooked under the waistband of your thong, eager to rid you of it. a soft moan escaped your lips as you let your head rest on the mirror behind you, yours eyes closed as your breath became labored. “mhm, yeah, take them off, baby,” you hummed, spreading your legs even more before propping your heels up onto the table you sat upon.

lando didn’t waste any time pulling your thong down your legs, discarding it on the floor with his shirt and the white halo you had lazily pulled off your head. his eyes danced around your body as your cunt was revealed to him, your core glistening with your arousal from lando’s lingering gaze and passionate touches. 

“so fucking wet f’me already,” lando growled, one of his hands coming to rest on your inner thigh as he whispered into your ear, “want me to touch you, huh? make you mine, pretty girl?” his erotic words sent a shiver down your spine, your body finding itself on a euphoric high from his touch.

“yeah, fuck me like i’m all yours,” you moaned back, your voice low and sultry as one of your hands found its way in his curls, twirling them slightly between your fingers. lando groaned at your words, your actions only serving for lando’s boxers to tighten more at his arousal.

his fingers danced up your thigh, getting closer and closer to your cunt that throbbed with need. the tension in the room was palpable, the sweat beading across lando’s forehead only displaying to dire need between the two of you as his fingers continued their travel, leaving a tingling sensation in their wake. 

when his cold fingers make contact with your clit, you let out a satisfied moan before reconnecting your lips with lando’s, kissing him feverishly. lando reciprocated, kissing you as if you were the only source of oxygen left on the planet – like if ge didn’t kiss you, he would die. his fingers worked magic around your clit, rubbing tight circles that had your mouth widening against his lips, impatient moans slipping through.

“you like that, huh?” lando teased, his voice escaping at a low growl as his lips brushed against yours, his fingers starting to pick up the pace. you squirmed under his grasp, whines that lando would call pathetic and needy escaping your mouth as you bucked your hips into his touch.

“fucking love it,” you grunted through heavy pants, small little moans escaping your parted lips, “fuck me.” the melodic noises that escaped from you sounded like music to lando’s ears as he chucked dryly at your whiny plea, the vibration sending a tingle straight through your body. 

lando was incredibly turned on by everything about you. from the way you teased him, to your moans and your beautifully wet cunt: it was all so perfect to him. he quickly finished undressing himself, pulling his boxers to his thighs to reveal his painfully hard cock, the tip flushed a deep red as precum leaked from it.

the sight was beautiful, your eyes scanned his tone abs and his hard-on as it took center stage. your panting picked you, your body desperate for any form of touch as lando neared you, your legs spreading even more to reveal the mess between your legs. “so beautiful,” lando hummed, positioning himself between your thighs as his hazels eyes looked down on you, his gaze dark and hungry.

his tip teased your entrance, rubbing smooth circles around your clit which dragged a small moan from your lips. the loud bumping of the music could be heard outside the stuffy bathroom, but the sound only continued to drown out as lando pressed into you, your head spinning at the contact.

pushing his hard, thick cock into you, lando grunted, starting to thrust at a pace that was slow enough to already have you begging for more. whines and whimpers left your lips as lando grunted, the deep gaze of his eyes never leaving yours despite the fact you struggled to keep yours open.

“i didn’t know you were so sensitive,” lando cocked, a teasing tone dripping from his words as he fucked harder into you, your knuckles turning white as your fingers dug into his shoulders, “so messy already and i’ve barely begun yet.” his words had you reeling, your clouded mind hardly pushing out a reaction, yet your body jerked, your highs pushing up to meet his thrust. 

“you fuck like a mad-man,” you groaned out, hooded eyes staring into his as his dick twitched inside you, your tight cunt holding him snuggly between your walls. lando chuckled dryly once more, your words only suiting to egg him on more as his thrust grew more rapid, sloppy.

lando licked his lips, sweat beading at his forehead as he tried to regain rhymatic thrusts, the tip of his hardened cock never falling to slam into your g-spot as he gripped your thighs. you couldn’t help but let out borderline pornographic moans as you swallowed his cock whole with your cunt, the air in the room stuffy and hot with the aroma of lust.

lando adjusted his angle, his cock only fucking harder into your pussy as erotic words oozed from his mouth, “spread your legs wider, baby.” his tone came out commanding, your fucked out mind too full of bliss as you mindlessly obeyed him, widening your legs to reveal more of your cunt – red and abused from the prior attack of his fingers. “that’s it .. wider,” lando grunted like an animal, his words coming out in huffed sighs as his cock throbbed in your tight pussy.

loud whines and moans fell from your swollen lips, the sound of the music completely drowned out inside the bathroom and replaced with the hums of the ecstasy of pleasure. “look at you,” lando purred, “such a needy girl.” his condescending words pulled you closer to the edge, your cunt sucking him in deeper as the eye contact remained.

“you can do better than that,” the words feeling from your lips between pants, your hooded eyes trying their hardest to not close tightly shut at the pleasure you ensnared, “fuck me harder, lan.” lando grunted at your command, your words sending a shutter of gruff desire through his body that slowly began to grow tired.

another dry chuckle fell from his cracked lips, the action sending a vibration through your body as his thrusts didn’t slow nor quicken. “you’re in no place to tease, baby, look at you,” he mocked, his calloused hands gripping your thighs harder as he now quickened the thrust of his cock into your tight cunt. your head rolled back in pleasure, the grip your hands had on lando’s shoulders only tightening, sure to leave little bruises in their wake. his condescending words did a number on you, your stomach tightening in pleasure as his cock battered harder in your poor cunt, making your body feel weak yet beautifully pleasured. 

“so fucking good–” you moaned out again, little ah-ah-ahs falling so carelessly from your parted lips. lando smirked in satisfaction, your praise only suiting him more as he fucked into you vicariously, giving you his all as he felt his climax rapidly approaching.

your stomach began to spin, your walls clenching around lando’s cock that still pumped into you, the vibrancy of your pleasure radiating off you as your moans sang together like an erotic duet. “yeah, cum for me, baby,” lando grunted, panting and heaving as he egged the two of you closer to your orgasms. your body shook with pleasure, your cunt throbbing as a pleasurable warmth flooded over your body.

before you could come to gather your actions, your climax hit you like a train, smalls moans of lando and little oh fucks falling from your reddened lips. quickly after, as if he was so sweetly waiting for you, lando finished. a guttural grunt fell from his parted lips as he did, thick beads of cum spilling onto the finger-printed skin of your thighs, lando’s fingers having left small bruises upon the flesh.

the two of you slowly came down from your high, the air smelling of whiskey and sex as the two of you gathered your senses and began to catch your breath. lando’s eyes never left yours as he slipped his clothes back on, bending his frame down to the ground to pick up your lazily discarded halo.

a satisfied hum escaped his lips as he placed it back onto your head, a smirk decorating his visage as his cheeks remained flush from the extertion. “see,” lando whispered as if to tease you, “i knew you weren’t all that innocent, angel.”

© inevesgf do not copy, plagiarize, translate, or claim any of my works as your own. notes + reblogs are heavily appreciated! ⋆·˚ ༘ * find my other works here.

[peppermintquartz]

Tommy is drinking alone at his and Evan's usual table, waiting for his boyfriend who says he is meeting an old friend, when he notices a handsome dark-haired man walk in. He's wearing a light khaki jacket over a dark brown v-neck tee, all over faded black jeans and hiking boots. Tommy doesn't mean to stare, but when a good-looking stranger appears in his line of sight, he's not going to pretend he isn't appreciative.

The man must've felt Tommy's observation, because his gaze locks in. There's a querying smile on his face, an eyebrow ticking up, and Tommy replies with a faint smile and a slight shake of his head.

To Tommy's surprise, the stranger walks over and takes the seat opposite Tommy. Tommy leans back into his seat, putting some distance between them. "I don't know you, do I?"

"Nah," says the man. "But you're the only friendly face I noticed when I came in, so I figured it would be less awkward to sit here than to stand in the middle of the room, looking for my friend."

He sounds like he may be from Texas, but that isn't a guarantee that he isn't living in Los Angeles - LA is the city holding people from everywhere, an amalgamation of strangers.

Bemused, Tommy scans the man again, and relaxes slightly when he notices a ring on the stranger's left hand.

"Here alone?" Tommy asks.

The man chuckles quietly. "Only for a couple of days while my husband sorts out some admin issues back home. You?"

"Waiting for my boyfriend," Tommy says. "He's supposed to be here already, but he probably got caught in traffic."

"Ugh, driving in this city is a nightmare." The stranger waves down a waiter and places an order for a whisky, neat as well as fancy branded water. "So thankful for Uber. I can't picture having to drive these streets every day."

"I like driving outside of the city," says Tommy. If he were single, he would have offered to show this handsome man some scenic views. As it is, he smiles politely and asks, "Is your friend coming soon?"

"Hopefully! I mean, all I've got is 'I'm on the way, go in first'." The man rolls his eyes. "Can't I hang here till he shows? I like having someone to chat with while waiting. I wouldn't seem so pathetic."

"Maybe we can help you get a table nearby." Tommy doesn't want to sound rude, but he is not risking Evan thinking he is flirting with another guy.

The man tilts his head and scrutinizes Tommy. "You're a good boyfriend," he remarks. "If you'd flirted with me at all, I'd have told Buck to drop you like a hot potato."

Tommy blinks in confusion and then realization. "You're the Texas TK!"

"And you're the LA edition," TK replies with a broad grin. He offers a hand and Tommy shakes it firmly. "Buck's always boasting about you. You do look a lot hotter in person, and the photo Buck sent was plenty hot already."

With an embarrassed duck of his head, Tommy says, "He always sends that one to people, I don't know why."

"Showing off, obviously." TK holds his phone to the side and his front camera is on. "Alright, smile for a we-fie. I'm gonna let Buck know I'm already here charming his man. Maybe that'll get him to teleport." He snaps a quick shot of them both, and as he types a message, he asks, "What do you recommend for a hungry visitor?"

"Lasagne. Or the carbonara, that's quite good too." Tommy slides the menu across.

Just as TK is deciding what he wants for appetizers, Evan materializes next to the table.

"I'm glad you think you can charm my boyfriend," he says, eyes twinkling, as he hugs TK and then sits beside Tommy, kissing him on the cheek, adding, "You are the best TK, by the way."

"Best?" TK asks.

Tommy shrugs. "Third one's an ex-girlfriend."

"So... Could have been, was, and is?" TK winks at Evan. "You appear to have a type, Buckley."

Evan blushes and takes the whiskey from TK's side of the table. "Let's order."

[slayfics]

Late night texting with Eijiro.

Warnings: Eijiro aged up | NSFW themes

Eijiro tossed and turned in bed unable to drift to sleep with the memories of today's spar plaguing his mind. He had been rougher with you than he intended to today and he couldn't help but feel guilty.

Giving in to his worry Eijiro grabbed his phone and decided to message you.

Hey, I just wanted to say I'm really sorry about today's spar. I didn't intend to be so rough. I hope you're alright.

You responded to him almost right away,

Kirishima it's late you should be asleep!

I couldn't help it! I just wanted to make sure you were doing ok.

I'm fine, no need to worry. Look, it isn't even that bad.

You texted and sent over a picture of your injuries from the spar. Eijiro felt his breath catch in his throat as soon as his eyes focused on the image.

You were lying in bed and had pulled your shirt up to show the injuries to your abdomen left from the spar.

He knew you were just trying to ease his mind by showing him the injuries weren't anything to worry about, but he couldn't help his mouth from falling open and his cheeks warmed by an excited blush.

The image showcased your body so perfectly lying delicately in bed. Eijiro couldn't look away from it as badly as he wanted to. This isn't manly at all. He thought as he found himself excited by a picture of your bruised body. Even still knowing it was wrong, his grip tightened on his phone and his heart rate increased the longer he stared.

Just as his hormones shot him nefarious thoughts causing his member to enlarge, you messaged him again.

Hello? You fall asleep on me Kiri?

Fuck, he typed out a response fast.

I'm still up! I guess it's not too bad, but I'm still sorry!

Stop apologizing! Besides, I got you pretty good too right?

Yeah, you did! You did amazing today!

Alright, let's see it then!

Eijiro felt himself freeze for a second time tonight. You- You wanted a picture of him? Eijiro shook all crude thoughts out of his mind. Don't be a perv, he told himself. You were just wanting to make sure his injuries weren't bad.

Eijiro must have been contemplating the meaning of your request for longer than he thought because you texted him again.

Unless you feel uncomfortable then it's totally fine you don't have to!

No no, it's fine! Give me a second!

Eijiro jumped out of bed panicking. You wanted a picture of him! He looked around his room and clumsily stumbled into the restroom deciding that was the best place to do it.

Ok ok, you can do this, he thought trying to hype himself up. Besides he is usually shirtless in his hero costume right? But for some reason, this felt so different. Eijiro struggled to keep his hands from shaking as he ripped off his shirt and nervously took selfies in front of the mirror.

What the hell am I doing, he second-guessed himself as he scrolled through the pictures he took deciding on the best one. Finally settling on one he nervously pressed the send button.

Your response came in minutes but felt like ages as he shakingly waited. Did he show too much skin, he wondered? He hoped his picture didn't look too suggestive. But you asked for one right? So it's fine, he thought, trying to ease himself.

Eijiro's eyes snapped to his phone as soon as it buzzed with a response from you.

Damn.

Was all your message said.

Damn, what?! He thought, running his hands over his face. Maybe you meant his injuries? Of course, right? That is what you two were talking about.

Yeah, you got me pretty good, but don't worry I'm alright!

He responded, commenting on the darkened bruises on his own abdomen that you had given him.

Not the injuries silly. You. You look good.

Eijiro's face burnt red hot reading your message. Do you really think he looked good? Was that the real reason you had asked him for a picture? Were the injuries just an excuse to ask, he wondered.

You look good too.

He typed and sent before thinking, panic caused him to quickly send a follow-up text.

Oh man, that sounded so pervy I'm sorry! I didn't mean for that to be weird or anything!

However, you didn't respond to Eijiro with a text but with another picture instead. This one was more provocative than the last showcasing even more of your body.

Eijiro suddenly felt his sweats become tighter as his excitement grew at the revelation that you were doing this on purpose. You wanted him to look at you with lustful eyes.

Yet again, Eijiro found himself staring too long causing you to send him a follow-up text.

Don't be rude, send one back.

Eijiro dabbed at the blood beginning to leak from his nose, as he realized: this was going to be a long night.

Tags: @unofficialmuilover @maddietries

[muffinpink02]

A Little Cocky A Little Toxic

I was listening to a song when I thought about this. Its a little rushed.

Warnings - smut 18

hopefully i got the right mix of cocky and toxic for you guys @lemontatas @vixwritesagain and may have used your words for inspo vix 😉

@lucyandalexiafan i hope your arse isn't too sore for waiting on this and as always thank you for being my hype girl ❤️

You checked your insta story. 

83 views 

You smirked when you saw the name you had been hoping to see. 

Did you only put it up in hopes that she would see it? 

Maybe. But that was your business. 

But also, like everyone else on your feed you wanted people to know you were out living your best life. 

But she was the only one you cared that saw you were out living your best life. 

It was a picture of you in a club with your friends. It wasn’t anything fancy, just you pouring a bottle of Prosecco into your glass. Leaning forward so your chest was on your show. 

And she saw it. 

You and Jenni weren’t a couple. You just fucked. Good old fashioned fuck buddies. You weren't seeing each other, there were no limits about seeing other people. No rules, no restrictions. But, you maybe had a small, tiny, little fraction of feelings for the girl. 

But that was your business. 

You carried on dancing with your friends. You were having a good night, you noticed you had a few eyes on you. A lot of fuck me eyes, and of course you was tempted, it would have been easy to let one of the girls drag you into the bathroom stalls and fuck you, or even gone home with one of them to have a night of hopefully good sex. 

But you were hoping the eyes on your story might do that. 

You reposted your friend's story that you wee in. It was a sign of the club, the neon lights glowing red on the wall above you. You were beneath it, a girl you had met on the dance floor was leaning close to you, her hand on your waist. The picture had caught you looking at her mouth, smirking wickedly, as your own lip was between your teeth. 

It even surprised you how the picture caught a very intimate looking moment. Your eyes had the look of the “come fuck me” stare. But you would blame that on the alcohol. 

Within seconds you already had 3 views. 

One of them was her. 

You felt the stupid butterflies in your stomach. So you took a tequila shot to drown them. 

“Would you like another one?” 

You turned to see a tall red headed girl with curly hair. Her eyes were so green they almost reminded you of hers, almost.

“Only if you’ll take one with me.” You grinned. 

She smiled, you eyed the dimples in her cheeks. She was cute, but also really fucking hot.

“That was the plan.” She eyed you up and down. Her green eyes lingered on your chest. 

She had more plans than just drinking. 

“Do you wanna do it the fun way?” She shouted over the music. 

“What’s the fun way?” You asked, leaning in.

She leaned into your ear, her flowery perfume engulfed your senses. 

“I put the salt on your neck. Lick it off. Then take my shot.” Her lips grazed your ear, you felt your nipples strain against your top.

“Yeah, okay.” You smiled at her, even though she was cute and innocent looking she had an air of cockiness to her. Just like someone else you knew, but it wasn't the same.

“You go first. Show me how it's done.” You laughed as she raised her eyebrows playfully.

The shots were placed in front of you, with the lime and salt.  

“Ready?” 

You nodded, you could feel your heart going a little. 

“So, you mind if I?” She pointed to your neck. 

“Oh yeah, it’s all yours.” You giggled. 

The red headed girl nearly faltered for a second. 

Jenni never faltered. 

She pushed your hair back, and licked your neck. Her tongue was soft as it dragged across your skin. You felt your skin erupt in goosebumps from her touch. You felt the grain of salt be poured on your neck, small grains dropping down your chest. 

She leaned into you, her lips wrapped around your neck as she sucked the salt of your body. It surprised you how soft she was. You were expecting some teeth or her lips to leave a red mark. Your eyes closed as her tongue sweetly caressed your skin. You couldn’t deny it felt good, your nipples straining once more. 

She pulled back, this time her green eyes did catch the bumps beneath the fabric. She smirked but it was an innocent smirk, almost like she was apologising for how your body reacted to her. 

She drank her shot, wincing at the drink like she had never taken it before. She sucked on her lime.

“Okay, your turn.”

You smiled, you gently  threaded your fingers in her curly red hair and tilted her head back. Even with the loud music you heard her shy gulp. 

You laid your tongue on her neck and gilded it slowly up to her jaw. You sprinkled the salt all while your hand was still holding her hair. 

“Ready?” You whispered. 

You pecked her neck before sucking the salt off her neck. You heard a small gasp escape her mouth. Like her, you weren't rough, you just let the salty substance sit on your tongue as you felt her pulse point beat against it. 

You moved back, drinking your shot without blinking and sucked on your lime.  

“Wow, erm. That was hot.” She laughed awkwardly. 

You smiled as you removed a lime seed from your mouth. 

One of your very drunk friends grabbed your hand. Clearly not caring that she was interrupting you. 

“It’s our song!!” She shouted. “Come on!” She slurred as she jumped. 

You looked at the red head, she was smiling at the happy girl in front of you. 

“Sorry. I’ll be right back.” You winced. 

“No, don’t worry! I’ll find you in a bit?” 

“Definitely.” You smiled before you were dragged into the floor of sweaty bodies dancing. 

It was half an hour later when you felt your phone vibrate. 

You saw a notification of an insta post you were in, but it was the message that caught your attention.

Jenni - having fun? 

You felt those butterflies coming back. Should you reply? No, leave it for a bit, don’t let her know you’ve even seen it, or that you care. 

Your fingers started tapping.

You - lots. You? 

She didn’t reply for another 20 minutes. 

Jenni - I’m outside 

Your heart fluttered as you read the words.  

You looked around the room as if she could see you, not wanting her to see the excitement on your face. Of course you weren't going to just drop your friends and leave the club. 

But she was outside, it would be rude not to say hello. You could just go say hi and come back. 

Simple.

You stepped out into the cool air, watching as other party goers jumped into their Ubers. 

You spotted her car, once again feeling stupidly excited that she came all this way to see you. You walked over to the vehicle, her window rolled down, revealing her wolfish grin.

Those fucking butterflies. 

“Hey.” You whispered. 

“Hola.” She winked, you could hear her music playing in the car.

“So, what you doing here?” You nervously played with your skirt. 

She watched your nervous movements, smiling as she chewed on her gum. 

“I was in the area. Saw you was here. Saw you were taking shots.” 

You were confused then. Taking shots?”

“What?” You forced a chuckle.

“I saw it on Mapi’s story. I saw you taking shots with a friend.” Her tone dipped when she said the word friend. 

That must have been the notification you ignored. 

“Oh right.” You mindlessly touched your neck where the redhead had her lips an hour before. 

Jenni’s green eyes roamed your body, she made you feel naked with how her orbs burned your skin. You felt yourself shiver. 

“Cold?” Jenni smirked.

“Ohh, a little.” You darted your eyes to the floor. Your cockiness from earlier had all but disappeared. 

“Want to get in? It’s warm in my car.” She gave you that smile that meant more than what she was really saying. 

You knew If you got in the car you wouldn’t be going back to the club. 

You wordlessly walked to the passenger side, sliding into the leather seat. Jennis' woody perfume shot through your senses. 

“Better?” She smirked as she put the car in gear. 

“Yeah.” You nodded. 

You watched Jenni eye up a couple of pretty girls walking out the club. One of the girls must have caught Jenni staring, you could see her blush from where you sat in your passenger seat. Jenni smiled at her, probably giving her the same smile she gave you.

Jenni turned up her music as she revved her car, getting the attention of the girls she had been staring at. She chuckled as one of them giggled like a schoolgirl. You rolled your eyes.

That's when you realised you never got the pretty redhead's name.

You could feel the raven haired girl's eyes on you. 

“Did you not have fun, cariño?”

You blushed at the cute name, trying desperately to hide your smile. “Yeah? Why?”

She shrugged, not looking at you. One hand on the wheel, the other had just found itself on your bare thigh.

“You left so quickly. Can’t imagine you were having that much fun.”  She gave you that cocky smile that normally made you smile, but her question made you stutter.

“N-No. I was having fun, lots of fun. I just wanted to say hello to you.” 

She smirked. “Do you want me to drop you back there?-”

“No! …Erm no.” Fuck sake. You closed your eyes in annoyance at yourself. 

“No? So I'll keep driving?” She chuckled lightly.

“Yeah, I don’t mind where we go.” You shrugged, trying your hardest to not like you cared.

“You look good, by the way.” Her hand squeezed your thigh. 

Butterflies. Wet butterflies.

“Thank you.” You tucked your hair behind your ear, watching her arm flex as she moved the gear stick.

“So who was your friend in Mapi’s story?” She asked, looking back at the road.

No fucking way. Was Jenni actually jealous? She had never questioned you on any other girl before. Never questioned if you were seeing anyone, but here she was, picking you up outside the club because she was ‘In the area’ and asking who you were with.

You loved the thought of her being jealous.

“She’s no one. Just someone I met. Why?” 

She shrugged again, her eyes fixed on the road. “No reason.” Her tone was steady.

You nodded, not giving away your selfish enjoyment that the girl was in fact jealous. 

“Not jealous are you, Jenni?”

The girl laughed, she finally looked at you. Her green eyes shone as a street light flashed over her face. 

“No, but I did want you when I saw your pictures.” She hummed, her voice low.

You wanted to be annoyed that she wouldn't fess up to even being a little jealous, but hearing Jenni saying she wanted you made you forget your annoyance. 

Feeling Jennis' hand creep up your skirt made you forget your next words. 

Yes, you were a simple girl. Especially when it came to Jenni.

“You wanted me?” You gasped quietly as she ghosted your thongs.

“Si, that little tight skirt you have on. I like it.” 

You felt yourself smile at the complement.

“I want to fuck you with it on.” She said it like she was talking about the nice weather you'd been having.

This was Jenni all over. If she thought she’d shown you any emotion she would turn that conversation around in a quick blink. But you were used to it. This wasn't anything more than a hookup.

So you did what you knew and joined the dance.

“I only wore it for that reason.” You smirked as you stroked your hand on her own thigh. And as soon as you did you couldn't hold back the blush.

“Are you wearing a strap?” 

Her cocky smile appeared again.

“Sí. I told you. I want to fuck you with that skirt on.” She stopped at a red light.

“What one are you wearing?” You began to pull her loose trousers down, revealing the purple plastic.

“Your one.” She winked, chewing on her gum.

Your chest tightened at the comment. You had found out Jenni had a few different straps for different girls, all having their own individual ones. In one sense it was great because you weren't one for sharing a strap with random girls and on the other it was maybe the biggest dickhead energy you had ever seen.

Jenni leaving her house with a harness attached to her hips assuming, no, knowing you would drop everything and leave with her made you feel a little ashamed.

But your thoughts were interrupted as her hand between your legs pulled your thin fabric to the side, pushing her long fingers between your wet folds. 

“Who got you so wet already, bebé?” She purred as she leaned in.

“You.” You whispered, your eyes fluttered as she found your clit. She leaned in, you could smell the mint on her breath.

“So quickly?” She whispered against your lips.

Your hips flexed as she swirled your wetness around between your folds. You were so easy for this girl. So fucking easy. 

“Are we there yet?” You breathed out.

“Nealy.” She leaned back but her hand travelled back between your legs as soon as she could spare it.

10 long minutes later she pulled the car up facing a sky line of lights. It was a pretty spot, you'd been here once before on a first date, but never with Jenni.

It was on top of a hill, but Jenni drove a few feet away from any other cars around. She parked her car up, facing the view.

“Come.” She opened her car door. You followed her.

She walked to the front of her car leaning against the bonnet. Her wolfish smile was on full show. She looked so cocky, everything about her, from her stance to her smile, the way she looked at you. 

And you couldn't help but love it.

You walked over to her, she put her hands out pulling you towards her. You shivered from the night air.

“Here.” Jenni started to take her jacket off, wrapping it around your shoulders. 

You were screaming for joy internally but of course your face didn’t move an inch. 

She brought your mouths together. It was soft and sweet, it felt more intimate than it ever had before. Her hands pulled your hips into hers, making you lean against her. Her finger crept up your stomach, making you whimper just in time for her tongue to find its way into your mouth. She let her hands wander to your arse, squeezing your flesh.

“Do you want to get it ready?” She smirked.

Once again, this was the dance between yourself and Jenni. Of course you wanted to suck her strap while she smiled at you like that. The question alone made your clit throb.

But why had she taken you to a date spot and not to her house like she usually did?

You pulled the strap out of her trousers, kissing her neck as you did. You looked around the spot she had parked, making sure no one was around. You slowly got to your knees and wrapped your lips around the plastic, all while the woman kept her eyes on you.

You knew Jenni liked you in this position. Well, actually she loved you in this position. She had you like this whenever she could, strap or no strap, on your knees, pleasuring her until she was coming in your mouth.

You easily pushed her into the back of your throat.

“Fuck.” She sighed as one of her hands came into your hair, helping you move on her strap.

You felt your cunt already throbbing as your head was gently pushed, taking more of the strap in your throat. Jennis' head tilted back in pleasure as your movements pushed perfectly against her clit.

You felt your thighs becoming uncomfortably wet as the girl above fucked your throat. You began to choke a little as her hips rocked faster, making your eyes water as you tried to take her fast movements. The tears started to roll down your cheeks, your black mascara mixed with the tears, you looked a mess but Jenni smiled wickedly once she saw the sight. 

“Oh no, the pretty girls, getting her pretty make up messed up?” She curved her hands around your face as she wiped the black tears, all while still fucking your mouth.

Her words made you groan.

“You look so good, bebé.” She grunted hard, you started to feel her legs shaking, she was clearly close.

She gripped your hair into a ponytail as her other hand stayed caressing your cheek. The soft touch made you blush more then the plastic fucking your throat did.

“Just like that. Just like that.” Her hips started to stutter. “Fuck. You’re so good. I fucking love…your mouth.”

What? Did she? Did you hear that right?

She groaned above you, small hard little grunts each time her strap hit the back of your throat. She came hard against the strap. Her hand stroked your cheek as she grinded those last bits of pleasure points into your mouth.

She gently pulled out of your mouth, her chest was heaving. She helped you to your feet, her lips crashing into yours.

“Ready to get fucked in that skirt?” She said it with a hunger in her voice.

“Yes.” You gasped as her teeth sunk into your lip. Her kisses became feverish, you could hardly breathe with the way her mouth swallowed each groan and whine. The girl was everywhere. 

You felt your body being turned around to face her car bonnet.

“So, you had a good time tonight?” She whispered against your neck. You lost control over your legs.

“Hmm hmm.” You agreed.

“But you’re having more fun with me, sí?” Her voice almost sounded nervous.

Was this her jealous side coming out again? 

“Y-yeah. So much more fun.” You stuttered as her hands pushed your skirt up, revealing your cheeks.

“Fuck,” She brought her hands up to your cheeks, squeezing the flesh so hard you knew you’d have bruises tomorrow. 

She moved your skirt up around your hips, revealing your cheeks to the cold night air. She pulled the wet thin fabric down to your ankles, helping you step out of them. She tucked them in her back pocket.

Your mind was reeling, her movements were so fucking slow. Your clit was crying for Jennis' touch again, you pushed yourself backwards, trying to show how desperate you were. 

“You’re so worked up. I don’t believe it’s only been me to get you this turned on, baby.”

You would be lying if you said the redhead didn’t turn you on. But what did it matter? Jenni wasn’t your girlfriend. 

“Maybe you’re not.” 

You felt her pause in her movements, it was a first for you. 

“Hmm, is that right?” Jenni wrapped her hand around the back of your neck, guiding you forwards. You felt the head of the strap kiss your wet lips. 

“Fuck!” You gasped as the 5.9 pushed you against the bonnet of her car, her hips holding you down. 

A whole new rush of wetness leaked between your lips. 

“But I’m the one who has you now.” She easily pushed her strap inside your tight walls, unfazed by your height pitched moan. 

You were so full. 

You didn’t even catch her words, or the jealousy in her tone. Your brain was trying to get used to the girth the plastic that made room for itself inside you. 

“Jesus!” You cried out as Jenni snapped her hips, her pace was already so fast, you weren't going to last long. She gripped your hips, forcing you to take more of the strap, pulling you down on the length. 

“You’re so tight. Have you not been fucked since me?” She smirked, she knew the answer.

“No-no!” You stuttered as she slapped her hips against your thighs. 

“Just me, only I get to fuck this pussy, Sí?”

“Yes!” You didn’t really know or care what she was saying, all you could think about was how her hips were forcing your body down on the bonnet, the weight of her body making it hard to move as she made you take every thrust. 

“You’re a slut for me. Aren’t you?” 

You whimpered, the wet slapping from your cunt was so loud. 

“Yes! A massive slut for you Jenni!” Your words echoed in the quiet area around you. 

Your pussy was throbbing, you could feel your climax rising up your body, the swell of those butterflies rushed from your stomach to your clit. 

“Say it again.” She growled from behind you. 

You didn’t think it was possible, but her pace picked up. Your skin was being slapped from every thrust, you could feel your essence dripping down your clenched thighs. 

“I’m a massive slut for you Jenni!” You moaned out as she grabbed a handful of your hair, forcing your head back, arching your back. 

“Dont fucking forget it!” 

You couldn’t physically make any noise as the girl rammed her strap so hard into your core, you lost all ability to breathe. You imagined the site was incredible for Jennis' ego. Your body being pressed against her car as the cocky Spaniard had you calling you her slut. 

Your cheeks bouncing as she watched her strap slide into you like she owned you. Your once neat hair, now a mess in her grasp. And your pretty makeup, completely ruined. 

All for her. 

Your cunt clenched as you came around the purple strap. You weren't sure if you were loud or made any kind of noise, all you could hear was the blood rushing in your head. The pleasure taking over your body 

She silently pulled out and left you to pull your own skirt down. 

You heard the car door open and followed her back into the car. 

“Did you want me to drop you back to the club?” 

“No, just take me home.” 

It was silent. She put her music back on. 

You looked down at your lap, you had dirty knees from your kneeling position, black stained tears dried into your cheeks, and no underwear. You felt stupid.

She pulled up outside your apartment. 

“I’ll see you soon?” Her green eyes looked sad.

You nodded. “Yeah.”

You opened the car door, your chest felt tight again. 

“Wait.”

Your turned to her, those small butterflies coming back. Hopeful. 

“My jacket.” She awkwardly smiled at you. 

“Oh. Sorry.” You took off her jacket that was 2 sizes too big for you. Her woofy perfume still sat on your skin. 

“Thanks.” 

You climbed out the car, she pulled off quickly, not giving you another glance. You felt the tears threatening to spill, but you pushed it back. 

This was the dance with Jenni.

[jmtorres]

i just saw a post about how we just have to "live with" covid and wanting more protections from our government is unreasonable because we'll never wipe it out, it jumps species and is in all sorts of animal populations (like, true ok) so why even try to

and apparently the argument was aimed at people (who I haven't seen in the wild) who are arguing we should still be in lockdown. and i have mixed feelings about the idea of extended lockdown or attenuating isolations; but my main feeling at this point is not that the government should keep us apart but that the government should be trying to make it safer for us to be together

things the government could/should be doing about covid:

we know that ventilation/air movement helps a shitton. we should be incentivizing upgrades to ventilation systems in all public buildings with shit like rebates or tax deductions, while phasing in eventual legal requirements. (and uh. it has occurred to me that the US might actually be doing this sideways by there's currently this decade enormous tax incentives in re energy efficient upgrades for slowing climate change and you know. energy efficient hvac does tend to improve ventilation. extra point to biden here.)

mandatory paid sick leave so workers aren't under social or economic pressure to work when sick

passing out RT-LAMP tests like metrix that actually work instead of the rapid antigen tests that have become less and less reliable as the virus mutates

i don't know how you'd write this law but like 95% or more of computer-based work can be done remotely and companies should not be allowed to force people to return to the office. I know there's people who want to be back in person and I'm not saying they should be forced to stay home but ffs I know of at least two people CLOSE to me who worked remotely before the pandemic and at some point their workplaces tried to tell them they weren't allowed to do that anymore despite the pre-existing contracts. stop canceling remote work for people that want, need, or prefer it.

for that matter, every college lecture that was an online class during covid should still be offered as an online class, there is no reason to force students into auditoriums in person. you got the communications infrastructure up and running, why are you tearing it down. give people the OPTION. it increases accessibility for everyone!

covid vaccine immunity lasts about four months. this should be well-publicized and everyone should be able to re-up for free every four months. "every year, like the flu vaccine" is demonstrably not often enough. actually "for free" isn't good enough start handing out $10 gift cards you will be shocked at how many people who are resistant to the idea of vaccines will fold for $10 a shot

are there already laws on the books about masks in medical settings that some medical professionals are blatantly ignoring because they forgot what best practices were before the plague and they're 'tired of masking'? if not, pass laws. if so, fucking enforce them

oh another incentives for upgrades phasing into legal requirements thing: brass doorknobs and railings over stainless steel or whatever. microbes do not survive on brass surfaces

i mean. i know this one sounds too extreme to a lot of people but. UBI.

most if not all of these measures will prevent or ameliorate other pandemics of different diseases that may arise in the future. and just. generally improve our health and quality of life for other reasons.

I haven't felt safe to go to a concert since 2020. Maybe if I knew a venue was legally required to have ventilation to a certain standard and that none of the ticket takers and ushers were on the job sick to avoid risking loss of paycheck or job, and knew a larger percentage of the crowd had up to date vaccinations--maybe if any or all that, I might ever feel comfortable going to a show again.

wouldn't it be nice if those of us who have been disabled, by covid or other conditions, had accessible remote options but also occasionally felt safe enough to interact with and participate in wider society?

one of the arguments on the post I saw was how isolation was massively psychologically damaging and various strata of society were affected in all sorts of ways, from undersocialized kids to increased depression in--well across the board, I think. and here's the thing: WE KNOW. PEOPLE WITH CHRONIC HEALTH CONDITIONS, LONG COVID OR OTHERWISE, KNOW ISOLATION SUCKS REAL BAD. because we, both for our own health and due to disability ostracism, are still isolating and isolated more than most.

what are you as individuals or societies, what are our governments, doing to help make it safe and accessible to rejoin you????

[skyahri]

Hate |Naruto Men X Reader| HC

Characters: Kakashi Hatake, Shikamaru Nara, Sasuke Uchiha

Summary: Hate is a strong word, but it's also a very fragile one.

Warnings: Brief smut, kissing mentions of p and v. Some angst, but all comfort. Mentions of blood, violence, and death.

Masterlist Ko-fi

- - - - -

Kakashi Hatake

You hated how full of himself he was. He was always talking down to people, to his teammates and so-called friends. He goes out of his way to show people up no matter how inappropriate the situation may be.

He hated that you always stuck up for people he considered weak. He hated how much time and energy you put into helping others instead of focusing on your own training. He hated that you had so much potential, yet seemed to waste it at every opportunity.

As time went on and you were forced into each other's inner circles, your occasional arguments became a constant bicker. It got even worse when you were assigned to his ANBU team. You questioned his every move and fought every decision he made.

In return, he always gave you the least desirable night shifts. He'd make you write all the reports, saying something about needing to learn to respect your elders (he's only a few months older than you).

Once you were put in charge of your own team, things quieted down. Not because either of you had mellowed out, but because you didn't cross paths as often anymore.

Because of how rarely you saw him, you always made sure to make your brief encounters worth it. You had practically written a list of insults to throw his way. He returned the same energy with out hesitation.

Eventually, after his genin team had gone their separate ways and you had finally retired from ANBU, you had a seemingly infinite amount of time to rekindle your rivalry with him.

He always seemed to be heading in the same direction as you were. It didn't matter if you were on your way to the Hokage's office, the shops, or meeting up with someone- he was always there.

You tried to fight with him like the good old days, but it was different now that you were grown adults. Maybe the ungodly amount of trauma combined with the wedge distance had created in your odd relationship had finally put an end to your petty war.

Thinking back, maybe this is what it had been all along, and your stupid kid brain was too proud to admit what was really going on.

Your arguing had turned into kissing the moment he stepped through your apartment door. Things moved quickly, expert hands doing away with endless layers of Jonin uniforms in a rushed attempt to feel more of each other.

It felt right. Like the decades of tension had finally come to a head and you were being forced to deal with it in the most animalistic way possible.

"I hate you."

Your mumbling between desperate kisses. He doesn't acknowledge you immediately, opting to instead lift you by your ass so your legs could wrap around him. He pushes you against the wall, pressing his clothed election right against your womanhood.

"I hate you, too."

Neither of you acknowledges the elephant in the room, that the word you're looking for isn't actually hate. But that's beyond your cloudy minds right now.

Shikamaru Nara

Shikamaru has never really bothered with social pleasantries or subjected himself to cater to what people like and dislike. In fact, he often chastised people for caring what others think.

He always commented about what you wore, how well groomed you were, and the overall effort you put into your appearance each day.

You hated listening to it, which is why you always did your best to avoid him.

It wasn't even about you specifically. You hated hearing how rudely he'd shut down Ino when she would ramble on about anything. You hated when he complained about how loud Naruto and Kiba were despite knowing that they're just excitable people. You hated hearing the damn near sexist remarks he'd make about how stupid people were for giving any shots about how they looked.

It was annoying. It didn't seem to phase anyone else anymore, but that almost made it worse.

You were at your breaking point. Just one comment away from losing your composure and you prayed to God you'd be able to refrain from saying anything too harsh.

But alas, Kakashi had assigned you to yet another mission with him- the sixth one just this month.

At least he waited until you were at the Inn before he started up with you. You honestly don't know why he let you shower first if it was going to be such an issue.

"Finally. I thought you'd be in there forever."

"What the Hell is your problem with me?"

He paused in his tracks. He wasn't expecting you to say anything to his usual grumbling, and especially didn't expect it to be so hostile.

"You always take forever in the bathroom."

"It was twenty minutes. You'll live."

"It wouldn't be that long if you didn't bother with all the extra shit you use."

"Why is it such a problem that I care about what I look like? I don't ever involve you in it and yet you're always talking about it."

He rolled his eyes, about to blow off whatever you were saying, but you started up again before he could.

"All you ever do is bitch and whine and moan about dumb shit that doesn't concern you. I like to look nice. I like wearing clothes that compliment my figure and putting time into the health of my hair and skin. It's not the end of the world, so shut the fuck up about it already."

You walked past him and lay in one of the twin beds, tired from the journey and pissed about your teammate's usual poor behavior.

He didn't say anything. He continued with what he was going to do before the argument and carried on like nothing had happened.

He kept any conversations strictly professional for the duration of the mission, something you were ecstatic about.

It wasn't until a few days after you returned home that you heard from him. He showed up at your apartment unprompted, looking irritated and slightly flustered.

"After talking with my team, it may have come to my attention that I might be kind of an ass."

You invited him in, curious as to what he had to say. He admitted that he had never been called out on it. Most people don't take him too seriously and he may have gotten a bit too comfortable voicing every thought that crossed his mind.

Although he had mostly soothed any nerves you had, you still decided he owed you.

You dragged him into your room, sat him at your vanity, and laughed when he groaned. You pulled out all the stops for him. You took him through your entire routine start to finish and when you were done, you asked him hiw it felt.

He hated that it felt nice. He hated that he suddenly realized how dry his skin usually was and how clean he suddenly felt. He would never fully admit that to you, though.

Him showing up at your apartment the next day, conveniently around the time you usually started these things, was all the confirmation you needed that he no longer deemed it a waste of time.

Sasuke Uchiha

He hated going to the Hokage's office, not because he was still in the thick of earning his freedom after the war, but because he hated Kakashi’s assistant.

You annoy him. He hates that you so confidently push his buttons. He hates that you're just a civilian, but you've been given so much authority over him. It was an unfit existence for the last Uchiha.

You enjoyed messing with him. He would grumble when given his assignment and you made sure to mock him with a playful pout. You'd check in with the ANBU watching over him to make sure he was behaving. You always used that word- behaving. As if he were a child.

Unfortunately for Sasuke, Kakashi isn't in the village right now, meaning he's stuck taking orders from you. He swears Kakashi picked you to oversee him intentionally, knowing how much it would bother him.

He's sitting next to you, helping you go through seemingly endless piles of paperwork. He wasn't sure if this was better than all the D-rank missions he'd been assigned lately, but he begrudgingly accepted the change of pace.

He glances at you through his peripherals. The sun is just going down, the orange light illuminating your soft features. Your usual bratty expression was replaced with a more peaceful one.

This was most likely just as much a break for you as it was for him. He wasn't oblivious to the way you had to reel Kakashi in every day, damn near having to tie him to his chair to get anything done.

"You can go home. I'll finish up here and we can resume tomorrow."

He didn't argue, thankful for relief from the horrifically tedious task. As he was leaving the building, he suddenly got this feeling in his gut that he should stay.

Of course, not wanting to do more paperwork than he was required to, he ignored the feeling and carried on.

He should've stayed. Just an hour after he left, while you were packing up for the night, the tower was raided by rogue nin.

The alarm sounded in the village, immediately calling all available shinobi. Bee, the ANBU assigned to him, gave him permission to lend a hand, and off they went to the tower.

He teleported himself to Kakashi’s office, knowing you would most likely be in there or at least somewhere near. What he wasn't expecting, however, was you standing over a body, kunai in hand and blood splattered across your body.

"Y/N?"

You didn't move, couldn't move. He reached forward, tugged the blade out of your shaky grip, and let it fall to the floor. You let him, not really in the mood to fight any more than you had to right now.

"Is he dead?"

Your question caught him off guard.

"I've never killed anyone before."

Ah. Civilian. Right. Sure, you belonged to a Shinobu village and even worked under the Kage, but that was vastly different than being on the front lines.

He thought for a second. Was he in any sort of position to be responsible for you at the moment? Should he hand you off to one of the other nin and return home?

"Cover your eyes."

It took a minute for his words to register in your hazy mind, but once they did you obeyed. If there was one thing you knew would benefit you, it would be allowing him to take the lead for now.

He put his hand between your shoulder blades and guided you through the hallways, down the stairs, and away from the tower completely. He glanced around, but couldn't find Bee, so he opted to take you back to his apartment. It would cause a lot less trouble if he was where he was supposed to be after all.

At home, he sat you down in the tub and turned on the water. He left you there, letting all the blood loosen from your skin. He returned a moment later, setting a stack of clothes down on the counter and grabbing a rag from the cabinet.

Neither of you spoke as he gently scrubbed your face. When he was done, he got a little bit of shampoo and worked all the red out of your hair.

You were slowly coming out of your daze. It was nice being brought out by something kind and comforting. It was almost enough to distract you from the night's events. Almost.

When he was done, he handed you the cloth, telling you to finish up and see him when you're done. You nodded, standing up and undressing when the door closed. You noticed how clean the water ran, most likely due to how thoroughly the Uchiha had taken care of you.

When you stepped out of the tub, you noticed the clothes on the counter. Upon closer inspection, they were similar to the ones he was wearing now- a t-shirt and sweats.

You joined him in the adjacent bedroom where he waited patiently. He all but forced you into his bed, shutting down all of your protests. When he went to leave the room, you quickly grabbed the fabric of his shirt to stop him.

"Please stay."

He didn't fight you. He walked around to the other side of the bed and sat down, leaning against the headboard and staring blanky in front of him.

You were thankful for the comfort of simply not being alone. Not after tonight, when so much had happened and the trauma was still fresh in your mind.

He tried telling himself that this was not a personal act, but instead one that would aid his village. But who was he kidding? He was realizing you weren't all that terrible and he had just allowed his angst brain to manipulate him into thinking so.

[carolmunson]

i'm the best thing at this party | e.m.

up and coming rockstar!eddie munson x girlfriend!reader (is that a picture of slash? sure, but we can pretend it isn't.) aka the first time carol ever wrote a fic based off a taylor song. but in my defense, it was a chase petra cover of 'you're losing me' that inspired it. this is not connected to my rockstar!eddie x actress!reader storyline, this is it's own oneshot in a separate story.

in the early 90s, when your boyfriend's band starts to make it in the big leagues, you start to come to terms with the fact that he might not want or need a small town player anymore. eighteen plus. established relationship. angst. hurt/no comfort-ish. open ending.

"and i'm fading, thinkin': 'do something, babe. say somethin'. lose somethin' babe, risk something. choose somethin' babe. i got nothin' to believe, unless you're choosing me.'"

The Hideout was hot with all the bodies packed in like sardines; stark contrast to the icy chill of winter outside. Glowing on the screen was The Tonight Show, everyone’s eyes glued to it while Corroded Coffin made their first national televised debut. 

No one’s totally sure how their manager Richie was able to finesse this slot – but they went to New York to film earlier in the week and didn’t ask any questions. With Richie, it's better to not ask questions and just let it happen. Eddie came home with an adrenaline rush so intense that he barely slept for three days. No matter how much you tried to keep him in bed and tire him out. 

And sure, it was hard to have him be gone while you drove out to Indy and took a friend to see the new graffiti art exhibit that came in from LA when it was supposed to be with him. It was hard to have him miss a lot of things. His return from the city only started another big talk about it, one you've been having every few months the last two years. Even so, you couldn’t help but be proud of him, proud of all of them. Remembering that just four years ago they were barely getting fifteen people in here to see them play when you first started dating. 

The crowd erupts when the camera comes off of the band on the stage and back to Leno at his desk, the boys in real life all standing on the bar. You look up at Ed and smile, he finally did it, he’s doing it. The contracts are signed, the people saw him, he’s gonna make it. He’s making it. 

You duck out of the way when they start to spray champagne over everyone by the bar, “Not my hair, babe!” 

The two  bartenders pour shots of Jameson and flutes of Prosecco while the show cuts to commercial and it’s not long before you feel the sticky chest of your boyfriend up against your shoulder, “It was good? I did good?” 

“Ed you’re…you’re fuckin’ famous,” you grin, “You’re fuckin’ famous!”

You follow while he leads you through the crowd, settled in near the back where the stage doors lead to the dressing room and out into the parking lot. He looks over his shoulder twice before he sneaks you both behind the amps; heart pounding when he leans you up against the painted cinder block walls, noses mashing when he takes your lips in his. It’s feverish, desperate when he pulls at your hips, one arm wrapped around your mid back to keep you steady up against him.

“Lemme – mmm – lemme take you to the green room,” he breathes between kisses, moving your hand toward the bulge in his jeans, “C’mon I wan–” 

“The interview’s up!” Jeff calls from on top of the bar. 

“Where’s Ed? ED? Come on! The interview’s up!” Gareth calls, the crowd erupting in a cheer of ‘Edd-ie, Edd-ie, Edd-ie!’

“Come on, come on!” you squeal, pulling away to pull him toward the front of the bar again, “You said they were gonna cut it!”  

“It’s stupid, babe,” he assures, “It’s so dumb.” 

“Ed, you’re being interviewed by Leno, this isn’t stupid,” you urge, “This is like – this is it.” 

“It’s literally like two minutes, it’s not special,” he doesn’t move when you pull him along with you, a frown pulling on your lips. 

“Eddie,” your voice raises an octave, tugging on his hand – he lets go. 

“I’m gonna take a leak,” he shrugs, heading toward the green room while you watch him disappear behind the door. Your brows furrow slightly, but it doesn’t stop you from making your way back to the edge of the bar where everyone’s eyes are glued to the medium sized screen in the corner. 

The crowd cheers again while the band is re-introduced, Eddie and Jeff sitting on the chairs with Gareth and Grant standing behind them. You admire the way your boyfriend looks post performance, nearly glittering with sweat but glowing with pride – with accomplishment. You look over your shoulder to see if he’s back from the bathroom yet, but he’s nowhere to be seen.

“So we got a group of some – what looks like – nice, respectable hard core guys,” Jay smiles. 

“I don’t know about respectable,” Eddie scrunches his nose back at the host. 

“I don’t know about nice, either,” Jeff jokes. You marvel at how relaxed and natural they all look on camera, cracking wise and getting laughs from the audience. They talk about the album briefly, and the front cover which has all four boys in caskets with a red kiss print on their cheeks. 

“So, the debut is self titled, Corroded Coffin – but it looks like you all got a coffin kiss here,” he points out, “These from anyone special? You got the girls going crazy.” The audience erupts in cheers and screams, a bra finding its way flung into the sound stage. You giggle when Gareth and Grant  hold it up, making them both blush pink on the screen. 

“Well I got a girl at home, so, I don’t hear any screamin’ if it’s not her cheering for me,” Jeff’s smile is bright when the camera focuses on him and he winks into the lens. Sasha, Jeff’s girlfriend, screeches in the crowd of The Hideout. 

“You didn’t tell me you were gonna do that!” she beams, and your heart thunders while you watch them kiss on the bar. The promise ring that he gave her back in ‘88 shines on her ring finger, awaiting something much more flashy when that first big rockstar payday hits.

“It’s definitely a change of pace,” Grant nods on the screen, “Definitely wasn’t getting a lot of girls in high school.” 

“It’s wild,” Gare laughs. 

“And what about you, Munson,” Jay asks, “Frontman like you’s gotta be beating them off with a stick.” 

The camera focuses on him, his pink lips and smart grin, a flash of teeth before he starts talking. He’s so handsome, you feel your fingers and toes start to tingle when he opens his mouth.You weren’t expecting to hear your name on national television, or be alluded to. You’d never really prepared yourself for something like this. To be declared to thousands, maybe millions, as a rockstar girlfriend.

You swallow the nervous spit pooling in your mouth, heart pattering while you run through all of the scenarios of the outcome of being ‘announced’ in your head.  

“I don’t kiss and tell, Jay,” he smirks.

Oh.

Your hearing clouds and your vision blurs – unsure of what you just heard. If maybe you imagined it, but that proves to be untrue when you feel a few sets of eyes on you. A moment of silent confusion lulls on the crowd at the bar.

You swallow the lump in your throat, fingers and toes cold now while the blood rushes to your heart and head, to your lungs which suddenly forgot how to work. Through teary eyes you look around, drowned out by the cheers of the bar when Jay announces when the album will release. You sniffle, trying to hold it back – but there he is in the back of the crowd now, eyes rounded; pleading, looking straight at you. 

The tears spill over and you try to catch your breath as you make your way through the bodies on your way to the front door. You hear Gareth call after you, hearing him stumble over the barstools while he hops off the counter. Another ragged intake of breath shakes through you while you get closer to the sticker covered door, pushing through the first set and then the other into the dark blue night. Your breath puffs white in front of you, coat abandoned somewhere back inside The Hideout while you walk across the street to your car. 

You fumble with the keys, blubbering while you get the engine started and the radio blares Al Green’s Let’s Stay Together part way through the song. In the rear view you see him hustle out of the bar to search for you, catching the start of your car and getting to the passenger window before you can pull away. 

“Wait, wait, wait,” he strains, his fingers hanging on the edge of the half open glass, “I promise it’s not what you think. Richie asked me to answer like that, it wasn’t on purpose.” 

You press slightly on the gas, making the car lurch forward and inch.

“Wait! Please don’t – don’t just go,” he begs, voice breaking with desperation, “We can talk about it.” 

You look at him through wet eyes, the street lights haloing behind his head to feign his innocence. He can talk himself out of anything.

“There’s nothing to talk about,” you rasp out quietly, “We’ve done enough talking.” 

“I can…please don’t go,” he says again, “Not with you crying like this, c’mon. Don’t leave.” 

“I’m gonna go home, Ed,” you sniffle, “J-just go h-have fun inside. S’too cold to be out here.” 

“You don’t have your coat,” he states, “Come back in and get it. We can talk in the back, please.” 

“I don’t need my coat,” you garble out, “I’m going h-home.” 

“Well I’ll – I’ll bring it to you tomorrow morning,” he nods needily, “Okay? Is that okay?” 

You let out a shaky breath, fogging again against your windshield, “F-fine.” 

Eddie cracks a weak but winning smile, “Okay. I’ll see you tomorrow morning.” 

“I love you,” he adds. It tastes like ash in your mouth. You pull away before you feel compelled to say it back. 

Eddie show’s up in the morning with coffee and your coat, a small carton of donut holes for you both to share. He’s all smiles, seeing you in the kitchenette cleaning out the coffee pot that you now no longer have to fill. 

“Morning, baby,” he grins, “I brought your coat.” 

“Thanks,” you mutter, keeping your eyes on the droplets of water that race down the side of the glass pout, “You can just hang it on the hook.” 

“Are you…are you still upset with me?” his voice is airy, surprised while he makes his way behind you. Calloused hands reach around to pull your back in his chest, nose nuzzling against your cheek. Your stomach rolls, bile inching up the base of your throat. 

“Enough, Ed,” you sigh, pulling out of his hold. 

“Sweetheart, c’mon,” he huffs, “I told you already. I didn’t want to say that. But you know how Richie is! He just wants what’s best for the band and so do I! Don’t you? I thought you’d understand.” 

“Jeff had no problem talking about Sasha,” you do your best to measure your tone, too early to start yelling. 

“Jeff has the wholesome thing going for him; plus – you know his family isn’t for him being considered like, a rogue or whatever. He’s already in a metal band,” Eddie explains, like this is a totally normal conversation, “Richie even said this morning that he was getting a lot of calls.” “Okay,” you nod, sitting down at the small table in your kitchen where your coffee sits. 

“And like, a lot of people wanna do interviews with us and get hype up for the release,” he half smiles, sitting down across from you, “I told you, it was…it was a good thing. They were saying y’know like, mysterious bad boy front man is a good angle.” 

“Great.” 

“It doesn’t…babe, it doesn’t mean we can’t be together,” he leans forward, hand reaching out to touch yours. His shoulders sulk when you put them both under the table. 

“Ed I –” you let out a breath, eyes tracing a pattern on the waxed canvas tablecloth, “I can’t even look at you right now. And you wanna tell me we can still be together?” 

“What like it’s…some consolation prize?” you choke out, “You made a fool out of me. The looks I got?”   

“I know, I know, but it was for the band. You know how I feel abo—“ 

“How you feel about me?” you hold back a bitter laugh. 

“Ed, the last year or so we have kept having the same conversation over and over again. You are so, so caught up in Corroded and making it and getting there and trust me I am so proud of you. If there is anyone on the planet who is more proud than me maybe it’s Wayne, but – this is just like, this is kind of it. We have nowhere to go from here.” 

He’s quiet for a moment, his brown eyes rounding and brows tilting slightly when he realizes what you’re really saying, “What do you mean no where to go? Are you not listening? I said we can still be together, just like befo–” 

“Before? Before when?” you get up and pace back to the kitchen where he can still see you, “Before when you would cancel dates to go practice? When you missed my awards night for work  because you wanted to fill in guitar for a gig in Ohio? When you didn’t come to my poetry reading with the guys like you said you would and instead got plastered at The Hideout after rehearsal?” 

“Well I apologized for all that, that was all in the past couple years and I – look, I said I was sorry and you accepted that,” his voice raises slightly, he stands up to full height with defense evident in his stance, “You can’t just throw it back in my face.” 

“When you were gone weeks at a time for mini tours, for opening for bands on the East Coast – god, all the work I took off to make sure I was there for you? When you canceled our three year anniversary dinner, without my knowledge, because you got a call for discounted studio time on the same night,” you manage to get out, the tears inching toward the edge of your lash line, “And I sat there at the table in my new dress and everyone looked at me the same way they looked at me last night. Poor girl. Must’ve got stood up. What an idiot.” 

“Yeah well that studio time is why we were on fuckin’ LENO, babe!” he pleads, “Don’t you get that? It’s for us!” 

“It’s for you!” you break, the shrill frustration coming out with your voice, “It’s always just been for you. It’s always about Eddie and the guys. I have done nothing but make sacrifice after sacrifice, excuse after excuse to play the part of perfect, understanding, cool, laidback girlfriend but like fuck Ed, when is it gonna be about me, huh?” He stands there, unsure, cheeks sucking in between his teeth.

“And what’s on the docket for you on Friday? Have any plans?” you ask, your voice softening while you cross your arms over your chest. You lean the small of your back against the counter while you watch him. He clears his throat, hands finding their way into the back pockets of his jeans. 

“Um, we have some meetings in the morning in Indy. And then um, we’re gonna take a late flight out to LA. The label’s excited – they’re really excited,” he breathes out, eyes finding the floor and your sock covered feet.

“Oh, that’s interesting,” you nod, voice still measured, “Since we’ve had the tickets for my niece’s winter school concert on the fridge for over a month. I guess I’ll have to tell her that her favorite bonus teacher couldn’t make it.” 

“Fuck,” Eddie’s eyes shut, pulling his lips in to run his tongue across them while he thinks of what to say next. Your heart thrums in your chest, throat getting tighter and tighter while you hold back a cry – this was just another thing to add to the list.

“I can make it up to her, I promise,” his raspy nicotine voice becoming garbled with desperation, “I can make this all up to you, too. I swear. I wish you had just told me about all of this.” 

“I have, Ed. We are always having the same conversation. I’m tired of having it. I’m so tired of this. Make it up to me? How do you make up for it?” 

“I…” he chokes on his words, ringed fingers running over his face and reaching to pull his hair back off his neck. 

“Go ahead,” you encourage angrily, “What’re you gonna do? Say something. Fucking, do something, Ed!” 

“Baby, I don’t know what to…” he swallows, tears pooling in shiny wells over his eyes, “What do you want me to do? I’ll do it. I’ll do anything.” 

You take a breath through your nose and let it out through your mouth, taking the three steps it takes to get to him. Your hands fall from being crossed, reaching up to cup each of his cheeks. Your thumbs run over the apples and drag softly over the stubble left over from the night before. 

His eyes shut while he keens into your touch, his rough hands covering yours. Calloused fingertips coasting delicately over your knuckles. You know what you have to do, even if his touch makes you want to do the opposite. 

“Go be famous,” you shrug, smiling weakly, “Go be the big rockstar I know you are. Like how you wanted. Go play The Garden and live in LA.” 

Your hands slide down his face, tears falling after them, “Go do all that, and just, um – just leave me alone. Please.” 

“But I don’t–” he starts, pulling in a sharp breath while a cry leaks out of him, “I don’t wanna lose you.” 

“Oh, Ed,” you shake your head while the ache spills over into your own leveled sob, “I’m already lost.” 

“No, please,” he begs, trying to catch your hands as they make it back to your sides, “Please, baby, I’ll fix it. I pro-promise.” 

“There’s nothing left to fix,” you whisper in finality, “You should go.” 

“I don’t want to,” Eddie’s soft pink lips quiver while he speaks, “Please. Please. I can fix it, the next interview, anything, it’ll be all you. I swear I can…I can…” 

When your face doesn’t change he knows there’s no way to pull you from your stance, voice trailing off in defeat. You watch as he rips open your storm door and goes to his van, his chest and back shaking with sobs that make the hardware on his jacket cry with him.

A year passes and you are not surprised when you find out that Corroded Coffin has made the cover of Rolling Stone. Wayne bought every copy from the gas station at the end of the road and put them in every mailbox early that morning. You don’t think there’s been a day in the last year that Wayne wasn’t seen beaming ear to ear; his boy finally getting everything he wanted. 

Life had gotten easier now that you weren’t regularly expecting disappointment. You went on few dates here and there, just trying to navigate your life after spending four years sharing it with someone else. Some nights were colder than others, but it was better than the frigidness you felt that night at the bar.

You did your best to avoid the tabloids – Eddie was certainly doing just fine navigating his life as a bachelor; some new model or actress on his arm every other month it seemed. Hardrock’s Resident Playboy. It stung the first time you saw it, and a little less each time after – heart breaker to the core; you would know, you were the blueprint.

In the same cold that matched the night at The Hideout a year prior; you sat on your steps wrapped in a robe – morning cigarette between your fingers. 

“Morning,” Wayne’s voice is gravelly when it sounds over you, still soaked with left over sleep. 

“Mornin’ Wayne,” you smile, taking a sip of the steaming cup of coffee in your other hand. 

“Wanted to uh, to let you know that the guys are playin’ a show in the city tonight. I could uh – I could get you a ticket if y–” 

“That’s sweet of you Wayne,” you smile tightly, “But I don’t think that’s a good idea.” 

“He might like to see you,” he shrugs. He hadn’t quite gotten over the break up the way you and Eddie had, convinced that this was the real deal – that he was watching young love flourish into something bigger. 

“He’s seeing someone, Wayne,” you take a drag of your cigarette, “Why would he want to see his ex-girlfriend who still lives in Hawkins? He’s got some actress girl now, right?” 

Wayne shrugs again, scratching at the back of his neck, “I never know what that boy’s got goin’ on in California outside of shows and gettin’ into trouble. Maybe he is seeing some girl but, y’know, seein’ an old friend could be good for him.” 

“He’s still got plenty of friends here he can see,” you let the smoke out to drift off in the gentle wind rustling through the line of trailers and mobile homes, “I don’t think I need to be one of them.” 

“Well, they’re gonna have a small after party at The Hideout tomorrow,” he offers, “Even if you just wanna do somethin’ fun. I never see you goin’ out anymore.” 

You laugh, “You work at night, what do you mean you don’t see me goin’ out anymore? I go out plenty.” 

His eyes linger on you, enough to encourage a thoughtful sigh – you might as well humor him. 

“I’ll think about it, okay?” you toss your half finished cigarette onto the browned grass before looking back up at him.

“Okay,” he smiles, eyes sparkling as he makes his way back inside. 

You spend the next day deliberating between making it to the bar or not, putting in the effort to get ready and showing up. Why bother? Just to sit awkwardly in the corner while everyone flocks to the boys and tells them how great they are? They already know they’re great, they’re crawling higher and higher up the ladder. 

You haven’t even talked to Eddie since the morning he left your trailer, and Wayne knows that. He knows how bad you hurt his nephew because he came over to talk to you a week after Eddie went to California and stayed for good. ‘So why should I show my face there? So I can relive the moment he made a fool of me over again?’ You think while the hot water of the shower glides over your shoulders and down your chest. 

‘Maybe it’ll be good to make amends or something, I at least owe it to the guys,’ you figure silently while you slather on some moisturizer at the bathroom sink. And you did – not seeing Eddie meant not seeing the rest of the band. Gareth, Jeff, and Grant were your friends too, and you sort of broke up with them in the same instance. Sasha moved out to California with them soon after – it would be nice to catch up at least. You hadn’t seen her since that night. 

‘But why would I want to bother? So I can see that engagement ring on her finger and hear her talk about her wedding plans?’ you swallow sourly while you use a touch of your lipstick as blush on the apples of your cheeks. ‘Remember all the times you thought you and Ed were gonna get married? Hilarious.’ 

Before you know it, it’s 11:30 and you’re standing outside of the sticky and stickered covered door of The Hideout. Even from where you’re standing the bar is a buzz like a hive, energy inside like a livewire when you get into the entryway, showing your ID to the bouncer at the inside door. 

‘Small after party my ass, Wayne,’ you think to yourself when you get in, shrugging off your coat. There was barely room to move and most of the lights were off or dimmed aside from the small stage in the back. By the looks of it, they must’ve played a small set – an intimate ‘home base’ concert for the real hometown fans. You push through some of the crowd, acrid smoke haze hovering over the room. A single bar stool sits empty at the end of the counter close to the wall and before you can think about it, you beeline straight there before someone else can grab it. Not that anyone would be able to see it through the six couples making out to Slayer blasting through the speakers. 

The bar tender notices you soon after, coming over to get your order while his two cohorts speedily pour shots and mix drinks. You almost don’t want to get anything just to make the night easier, but opt for a beer instead. 

“How much?” you ask over the music. 

“WHAT?” the bartender shouts, holding a hand to his ear. 

“HOW MUCH?” you yell back. 

“ON THE HOUSE. BAND IS COVERING DRINKS,” he shouts back. You take a few dollars out while he pours your beer anyway, sliding it across the bar with a smile. He smiles back, pocketing the ones with a wink before helping another person leaning over the bar. 

The TV takes your attention, a tape of their recent interviews and music videos playing on a loop with no sound. The beer is almost comforting as it passes over your tongue, it’s been some time since you just sat in a busy bar – and for the most part, no one here even knows you. For the most part. 

A call of your name snaps you back to reality, looking around to see exactly who you thought you would. Sasha. And low and behold a ring sparkles bright on her finger, a breathtakingly big diamond glittering in the neon lights behind the bar. 

“Hey!” you call back with a smile, sick crawling up your throat. You watch as she fights the crowd to get over to you, wrapping you in a tight hug while you stay seated on the stool. 

“How have you been? You look gorgeous,” Sasha’s tan skin glows back orange in green while the lights change, tight dark curls bouncing prettily around her face. 

“I’ve been good!” you nod, your voice hardly sounds like your own, “Y’know just – hanging around Hawkins. How’s LA? How’ that ring?!” 

She holds her hand out so you can really see it, her skin is warm in yours while you take her fingers. It’s more beautiful up close, the marquise diamond flanked by two smaller triangles in perfect harmony. 

“He did so good, Sash,” you giggle. 

“I slapped his arm so hard when I saw it,” she laughs, “I said, ‘Jeff we could’ve bought a freakin’ house!’ but you know how he is.” 

“I do, I do,” you nod, “Did you set a date?” 

“Probably not for another year or so if we do a big wedding,” she shrugs, “Maybe a little longer? We think it’s smart to actually buy a house first – with this kind of money coming in. And y’know, the industry is, uh, well, it can be wishy washy. What’s in today could be out tomorrow. We wanna be smart.” 

“Well thank god he’s marrying someone like you then,” you tease. 

“That’s true,” she beams, “Do the guys know you’re here? I can go grab J–”

“No, no, they don’t,” you interrupt, taking her arm gently while she turns to leave, “You don’t have to tell them I’m here. I’ll go find them, I promise.” 

Sasha gives you a half hearted smile, “Okay. Well – We’re sitting over by the stage if you wanna come say hi to the guys. Gareth would lose his mind, and Grant brought his new girl with him, she’s so cool. They met in LA and she’s like, got the sickest punky-goth type of thing about her.” 

“I love that he’s in love,” you gush. 

“Me too,” she nods, “The girls are obsessed with him out there.” 

There’s a silence, but it’s knowing – still one person yet to have been mentioned but you both seem to understand it’s not worth bringing it up. Sasha reminds you that they’re by the stage, giving her a wave while she disappears in the throngs of people in the crowd. 

Half way through your second beer and a couple of random conversations with people later, you see him in glimpses while people pass by. You can tell by the smirk on his face that he’s flirting, and when more people move and re-disperse, settling, you see glimpses of her, too. Some cute young looking thing, you wouldn’t be surprised if it was her twenty-first birthday. All doe eyed and giggly while he leans over her against the wall near the booths. I guess whoever he’s seeing in California isn’t too important.

He looks good, healthy, you can tell his clothes are tailored now – sort of comical that a tailor would fit and adjust ripped jeans and an old leather jacket. Not that he has to know you think it’s funny. 

Eddie leans forward and lets his finger tap her on the nose, a tell-tale sign of his that they’ll kiss later. He’s used that move on you more times than you can count. He did it the night you met, tipsy at a party at Gareth’s – tapped you on the nose, making you scrunch it. 

‘Aw, if I knew you’d make a face like that I would’ve booped you way earlier.’ 

‘What do you mean? What face?’ You scrunch again. 

‘That face,’ he bites his lower lip, blush on his cheeks, ‘It’s a cute face.’

You expected it to hurt more, to watch him active in his element; but it doesn’t. You know the motions, you know his tells, he next move. You can see it in the way he leans into her and then leans away – almost kissing her, but leaving her wanting more. You smirk into your next sip, counting down the moments until he puts their conversation on pause to do their rounds and finding her again later. Gotta keep her yearning, you guess. He certainly was always good at things like that. 

You don’t see their reunion, you assume it was somewhere near the stage where the band and Sasha were. At the end of the night, the boys play a goodnight mini-set, just three songs. You’d never seen Ed so in his zone in your life, fully basking in the glow of upcoming stardom. Every chord and every lyric punching out of him like the sweat pouring from his hairline and chest. This was what you wanted, what you told him to do. 

Go be famous. And here he was. Famous. Just like you said he would be. 

Water takes the place of your beer while they play; and you know better than to get up and join the crowd. Much happier sitting at the end of the now more empty bar just listening instead of getting potentially punched or tussled with amongst the bodies. 

People take their time leaving when the set is over, shrugging on their coats to brave the cold weather. 

‘Thanks for comin’ out to celebrate with us – now get the fuck out so our buddies at the bar can go home before four!’ 

You savor the conversations and music settling down to a much quieter murmur while you sketch on a napkin. A few people you shared niceties with tap your shoulder to say goodbye, new friends you’ll never see again. On the other end of the bar you hear Grant and his girl order a round of shots. Your head almost pops up at the sound of his voice, but that might bring attention to you that you don’t think you really want. Now that the night is over, you’re glad you came. If anything, just to see that they were making it just fine – and they would have with or without you. 

With less people in the bar you can hear Sasha’s laugh in the back where the stage is, and you laugh into your napkin turned sketchpad. Her laugh was always infectious, enough to make the crowd follow suit. You grab a fresh napkin from the pile next to you and start to doodle again while you figure out how to best leave without anyone catching wise that you’re here. Out of the last twenty people left at the bar, a little more than half knew who you were.

The tap of the pen on the bar top while you think blends in with the tinkling of hardware that gets a little louder the closer it gets to you. A squish of leather and drag of a barstool later makes you privy that someone’s next to you. Spiced cologne and sweat sheened skin. 

“You come here often?” 

Slowly, you turn your head – level with brown eyes you haven’t looked in for a year, just in the glossy pages of magazines you’d leave behind at the grocery store or Melvald’s. 

“I used to,” you offer a quiet tired smile, leaning your chin on your hand on the bar, “It’s been a while.” 

Eddie smiles back, soft, cautious, “Yeah, same for me.” 

You both don’t speak for a moment, adjusting yourselves on the barstools while a few more people head out to leave. The jingle of the door fades out, crunches of the parting patrons’ sneakers and boots in the snow sound outside.

He clears his throat, bringing your attention back to him – the curls of his hair, the slight stubble on his jaw and cheeks. His bottom lip tucks between his teeth for a moment before he turns his chest toward you. 

“Can I uh, can I get you a drink?”