#I feel like I can’t stop thinking about her

[jarofstyles]

Appetency

Okay so we've got a bit of a long one. Kinda enemies to lovers if you blink, fuckboyrry turned softrry, dedication galore, hesitant Y/N and confident H, you're gonna love it. This is the first half- the other half is already up on Patreon and will be here later on 💕

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Warnings- slight angst, mentions of anxiety, alcohol, cocky h turned into a loverboy... nothing too crazy in this part.

WC- 8.5k

“Why are you every-fucking-where.” Y/N stopped short, glaring at the man across from her. The entire party, she had been trying to avoid him- but he wasn’t letting that be at all possible.

Harry grinned widely at that, the most obnoxious and infuriatingly pretty smile with those stupid dimples. Leaning against the wall as he studied her for a good moment, there was no hiding the not so casual enjoyment he got out of flustering her. 

Finally, he broke the silence, standing up from his casually cool stance on the wall. She knew he was going to say something that annoyed her and it was proven as he opened his mouth. "C’mon, don’t be like that. Perhaps you just can't keep me off your mind, baby girl. Can’t stop thinking about me, seeing me everywhere…"

“Ew. Do not call me that.” She wrinkled her nose in disgust for the nickname, walking past him. He followed, of course, because he always did. “Just because we have a few similar friends doesn’t mean you need to be at every social event. I’d love a break from your smug face.”

"You can't possibly be getting tired of this handsome face already…" He protested as he followed behind, his words purposely trying to rile her up. Getting a rise out of her seemed to make his whole day, and usually she would laugh it off but this time… things were different. Finding a spot in the kitchen, he watched as she puttered around trying not to look at him. 

His eyes danced with amusement as he added in some more. "Or are you just mad that I always seem to steal the show, love? Not my fault that I'm effortlessly charming and captivating, darling."

“Humble, too.” She snorted, grabbing a drink from the cooler. Buzzballs were not the thing she’d want to choose when she was thinking about the next morning, but they were exactly what she needed when it came to trying to mentally escape right now. “You’re insufferable. Really.” His eyes were on her as she used her nail to pop open the cap. 

“So are you going to leave me alone, or follow me around all night?”

Harry chuckled in amusement at her sarcasm, enjoying the way she rolled your eyes at him. "Leave you alone when you look this lovely? Not a chance in hell, darling." He hummed, tapping his own bottle against the counter. He paid no mind to the new people who entered the space, eyes glued on the girl he was talking to. "But as much as I'd love to keep annoying you, I have a much better way we could spend time. Don't you remember, love?" He purred. “I certainly do. It’s hard to forget the way it feels when you moan-” The interruption was instant, her hand gripping onto him. 

“Harry…” she hissed, tugging his arm further down the dark hallway and into a bedroom. Who’s? She didn’t know. All she knew was that she had seen where this was going, and she didn’t want him to say it too loudly. Everyone was so god damn nosy and respectfully, she didn’t want to deal with any of that. Not after all she had said.

“Listen.” Putting her hands on her hips, she tilted her head up at him as he stood a little too close. “We hooked up, it was a mistake. You know it.” Though it didn’t seem like he thought so considering how he trailed her ever since. “We… we were a little drunk and I was lonely and you were there.” 

Y/N knew she was slightly lying, but she was trying to fool herself. If she said it enough times, maybe she’d believe it. They’d always had chemistry. It was intensity that burned between them, her disdain and his addiction to getting a rise out of her. It was only a matter of time that they’d give into some sort of blow out- but she hadn’t expected it to be as good as it was. It couldn’t happen again. 

Harry had that knowing smirk on his face as she tried to deny it all, knowing exactly where this was headed. The thrill of chasing her, of getting under her skin was intoxicating, addicting. He loved making her growl and huff and glare at him, because it meant getting her undivided attention.

"Was it really a mistake?" He asked as he leaned against the door, finally giving her some breathing room.  "Or have you just been avoiding me because you couldn't stop thinking about it?"

The truth was that he had been thinking about that night ever since. Multiple times. Before he went to sleep, when he was in the shower.. It was hard not to. 

Her jaw clenched, placing her bottle down and crossing her arms. “Look. You’re hot, Harry. You don’t need me to tell you that. You’ve got plenty big of an ego. But I’ve been avoiding you because it can not happen again.” 

Y/N knew that Nina was into Harry and she really didn’t want to start any drama. Not that he even seemed remotely into her, but because she acted like he was someone she had dibs on. As gross as it was, she tended to start shit with anyone Harry pursued and she just wasn’t in the season for drama. There were other things to worry about other than start a feud over a man. 

He had known about Nina's crush on him, but he didn't care about her. He never had, and he never would. As fucked up as it was, what they had, in his mind, was just a harmless flirtation, nothing more. Y/N knew that, but Nina didn’t. He couldn't have been more clear he had no interest in her, but some people took delusion to heart. 

It didn’t matter how good Harry gave it to her last time, how hard her legs shook, how sore she was in the best way. Didn’t matter if his tongue was hot and through and how he’d cleaned her up with it. It couldn’t be repeated.

Harry's smirk only widened as she openly admitted he was attractive, his ego inflating even more. But when she mentioned avoiding him, his smile faltered slightly.

"Why can't it happen again?" He asked, moving closer to her, his eyes darkened. Too close, making her take a deep breath. If there was one thing he would give him, his presence was commanding. Felt. Her body was very familiar with his now, wanting to lean into him, but she fought it.

“Because.” She sighed tiredly. “I really can’t deal with any drama. I’m exhausted, and the last thing I need is that she-devil going after me because she thinks I’m ‘stealing her man.’ “

The man let out a laugh, amused by the comment. Yeah, he knew exactly who she was referring to and found it funny. He knew she could be a drama queen, and he definitely didn't care for her possessive tendencies, but he had told her that they had nothing going on between them and never would.

He stepped closer to her, his greedy hands reaching out to touch her hips, his touch firm. "You're not stealing me, love. She never had me, and she's delusional if she thinks she does." His eyes gleamed with desire as he looked at her, his touch becoming a bit more possessive in his own way. "And I want you, not her."

“Harry, you don’t actually want me.” She groaned in frustration, trying to ignore how her tummy dropped as he pulled her into him, his other hand curling around her jaw. Stupid body, stupid hormones, stupid muscle memory.  “You think you do because you like a chase. You don’t actually like me or anything, you like how I fuck.” She said bluntly, glancing up at him.

Harry's smug expression faltered as she protested. He could feel the annoyance, but he also noticed the way her body responded to his touch. There was no denying that. "Is that what you really think?" He asked, his grip on her jaw tightening slightly as he looked down at her. "That I'm just chasing you only for the thrill of the chase, for the sex?"

His eyes darkened, his other hand moving lower on her hip, pulling her flush against him. He could feel her body against his, the softness, the warmth, and he wanted it all back. There had been no way she could tell him that she hadn’t enjoyed it, considering he’d made her cum 3 times, made her gush all over his cock. She’d clung to him, held onto him, whimpered his name. But he’d taken care of her, he had gotten her some pomegranate juice and a snack, helped her tie her hair up, driven her home. When the contact had been nonexistent, he was hoping she was just making him work for it- but that wasn’t all this was to him.

“Yeah.” She furrowed her brows. “Is it not?” Harry wasn’t the relationship type, not usually. Everyone knew that. Y/N had constantly reminded herself that when they’d first met and she had a bit of a crush on him, only to see that he liked to fuck em’ and leave ‘em. It lost the appeal and she had resented him a bit for it. 

Was it fair? No. She knew that. But their dynamic had been built on that resentment. 

Harry's jaw clenched at her response, frustration and something else flickering in his face. He loosened his grip on her slightly, his gaze searching her eyes, trying to convey something she obviously wasn’t picking up on.

"And what if I told you that you were wrong?" He asked, his voice low. "What if I told you that there's more to me than just chase and sex?" He tilted his face closer to hers, his hand on her hip keeping her snug. He hadn't realized it himself just how touch deprived for her he actually was. Did she really think it was all just… a game? Had he not proven himself to her that night? Granted, he had maybe fucked up in how he communicated after but… the ball had been put in her court. 

He could tell that she was skeptical, but he was determined to make her believe him.

"I want you." He said firmly, his hand on her jaw moving to wrap around the back of her neck, his fingers tangling in her hair. "I want everything. Your body, your mind, your heart." His hand on her hip moved lower, his touch a little needy. "And the fact that I can't have you is driving me insane. Want you to believe me."

“But why?” She sputtered. “All we do is argue. All I do is blow you off and all you do is follow me around to piss me off.” 

She had no idea he had his own fascination with her. How he’d silently watched her, observed, saw how she was with other people and wanted that chance to feel that. To have one of those smiles for himself.

Harry shook his head with a light laugh, his grip on her flexing slightly as he stared down at the girl he had been playing cat and mouse with. "Because I'll take the arguing, the blowoffs, all of it, just to be near you. I don't know when it truly started, but you've gotten under my skin, love." He pushed her back against the door, his body pressed against hers, trapping the girl. Looking down at her, his eyes were dark with desire, with honesty. It was a little unsettling.

“Harry.” She swallowed, eyes fluttering as his fingers stroked over her jaw and down over her throat, tenderness tinging the touches. “It’s not funny if this is a joke. It’s not.”

Harry's let out a tired breath, his touch gentle as he stroked her delicate skin, taking advantage of every touch. He could see that vulnerability in her eyes, and it only made him more determined to prove himself. "M’not joking. " He said firmly. "This is serious, I want you, and m’not giving up until I have you."

“Then you’re gonna have to work for it.” She exhaled sharply, pushing out of his hold and escaping back towards the party.

Y/N was almost fooled into giving in again- but she could give in without a real, true idea of what he was dedicated to. Maybe it was cruel of her to try and write him off as a bit of a slut trying his luck, but she’d never been awarded the chance to get to know him outside of their usual dynamic. 

That was why, the next day, seeing him on her front porch had her gasping in surprise. “Shit!” She yelped, keys falling to the wood below her. 

He looked good. The night of sleep seemed to refresh him, he’d showered, and he was bright eyed this morning. Determined. Why? She didn’t know. But this was not at all what she had expected when opening her front door. “ You scared the fuck out of me. What are you doing here?”

"Good morning, love." He greeted her. “Nice to see you this mornin’. You look gorgeous.” That cheeky fucking grin, as usual, tilted on his mouth. 

She crossed her arms, raising an eyebrow in question. "You didn't answer my question. What are you doing here?"

Harry flashed her a grin, completely unfazed by her skepticism.  "I'm here to see you, of course." He said, as if it was obvious. “Silly thing.”

“Why?” She didn’t want to get too huffy with him but he was nearly speaking in riddles and she didn’t have the patience for that. “Are you alright?”

Of course he was amused at how frustrated she looked, finding her impatience obviously endearing. Maybe it was just her, though. Y/N was a bit of a weakness of his, he found. Pushing himself up the final step, he grabbed her keys and handed them back to her, making no effort to pull his hands away from her own. 

"I'm fine, love." He hummed casually. "I just wanted to see you." Holding her hands in his, his thumbs rubbing soft circles on the skin. Casual intimacy that slightly caught her off guard.

The girl merely looked at him in confusion.  The plan for today had been to go to the grocery shop and do stuff around the house, not entertain the man who had admitted to wanting her last night- but she knew if he was here, it meant he was determined to get his way.

Aka, spending time with her. 

“Okay.. So now you saw me.” She said lowly. “Do you want to go home now?”

The sight of her looking so flustered and on edge fueling his determination, he shook his head.  "Not yet." He said, his voice low and firm. "M’not leaving until I get some of your time."

Y/N closed her eyes, taking a deep inhale through her nose and exhaling through her mouth. Meditative breathing did wonders, it seemed. Usually. She knew Harry well enough to know that he wasn’t going to let this go. He was going to keep prodding until he understood that he probably had no actual intention of being around her long term. He was looking at her with metaphorical sex goggles on. Yeah, she was good in bed, but that was only a tiny portion of her. 

He’d learn eventually.

“Well, I have to go to the store. So…”

Harry watched you closely as she opened her eyes from the attempting to calm herself. It was a little unnerving to know she needed to calm down from such a simple interaction but then again, he had been coming on a little strong. It was his nature, but he tried to relax his stance a bit. No way was he going to let an opportunity to spend time with her be wasted. He was dedicated now, wanting to win her over.  "You're going to the store?" He leaned in closer. “Looks like I'll just have to come with you, then."

Y/N sputtered as he took her handbag and totes from her, tucking them under his arm as the other held her hand. 

“C’mon.” He said smugly, pulling her towards his car. She followed, confused at how he had just agreed to go grocery shopping with her. Willingly. It wasn’t something he liked doing and she knew that- she somehow had found out one night that he had his delivered- but he seemed eager to do this with her. 

The last thing she expected was for him to open the passenger door and help her inside, but he did. Like it was second nature, opening it up and taking her hand to aid her into sitting sound, placing her bags on her lap.

Harry's smirk widened as he scooped up her handbag and totes, his grip on your hand firm as he guided her towards his car. He snickered under her breath at her sputtered protest, enjoying her disbelief that he was actually willing to go grocery shopping with her. Like it was some sort of hardship.

Once he had settled her in, he leaned in closer, the smell of cinnamon gum filling her senses. Keeping his stance, his eyes locked on her, his gaze intense. He could see the confusion in her eyes, and it only fueled his determination to make it second nature to her, to expect this sort of thing from him. . 

"You look cute this morning." He said, his voice low and smooth. "Did you get much sleep last night?" He reached up and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, his touch gentle.

Her cheeks felt hot as he tenderly touched her, the softness of it all surprising her. “Um… I did.” The compliment had flustered her too. It wasn’t something she was used to from him. Their usual dynamic was tense on her end and being a pain in the ass with a stupid smirk on his. This sort of treatment was new to her. 

“Thanks. You look….” It felt unnatural to compliment him, but she meant it. Strangely enough. All of this was so new to her.  “Nice.”

Harry chuckled at the slight hesitation in her words, enjoying the way she was thrown off by his tenderness. One day she was going to accept it.  He smiled at her attempt at a compliment, narrowing his gaze at her. "Just nice?" He teased, raising an eyebrow.  He placed a light hand on her knee, his thumb stroking her skin in small circles, his touch gentle and comforting.

“Well, handsome? I dunno.” She grumbled. “Just so you know, you’re carrying all the grocery bags. If you insist on coming along you need to be useful.”

"Oh, I can be very useful, love. You jus’ need to find out what else I can off s’all." He said, his hand continuing its caressing on her knee, his touch sending a little jolt through her body "And don’t worry, I’ll carry all the bags. You just worry about picking out what you need."

Harry could see the doubt in her eyes as he reassured her about carrying the bags, and he knew he had to prove it. Not just that, but the whole thing. He hadn’t won her over quite yet, but he would. 

Removing his hand from her knee, he ignored how much he missed the touch and stood up straight, standing tall and strong next to the car. 

"You don’t believe me?" He asked, raising an eyebrow. "Just watch, sweetheart. Gonna shock the shit out of you."

——-

Y/N was suspicious. 

Harry was… behaving. More than, actually. He was being sweet and polite, borderline charming. Standing beside her as she pushed the cart, grabbing the items at the top shelves, not rushing her at all. He was flirty, sure, but nothing insane that truly made her roll her eyes at him. His voice was soft spoken and held only a tiny bit of the arrogance it usually did… and she liked it.

Who the fuck was this? And what had they done with the normal Harry? 

“You’re freaking me out a little.” She mumbled, checking off another thing on her list. “Like, you’re being pleasant. That’s not normal for you.”

"What, I can't be pleasant sometimes?" He teased, giving her a look. 

He couldn't help but grin as he watched her check off another item on the grocery list, his eyes roaming freely over her focused expression. He was enjoying this, he realized, enjoying the chance to be close to her more than he would have ever expected. "Maybe I’m just in a good mood today." He said, leaning against the cart.

“It’s just suspicious.” She glanced at him from the side of her eye. “You’re always following me around and trying to get me to snap at you. So excuse me for being a little confused when you’re acting so normal and nice.”

Harry liked working her up and getting reactions out of her, but he liked her. Y/N gave him the tummy butterflies, the excitement, the hot cheeks, all of it. She just didn’t know that- or was heavily in denial. It was his fault, he knew, from never expressing how serious the desires were and expecting her to read between the lines. But fuck, could she blame him? Y/N was a spitfire.

“Can you- fuck.” She groaned. “This can not get any worse.” 

Across the aisle, she saw her. Nina. Glaring at the scene of Harry standing a little too close to Y/N, doing a domestic activity like shopping together… It looked like they were way more than friends. This wasn’t something he liked doing and of course, the other girl would know that… So the situation didn’t look too good.

Harry could feel the shift in her mood as she spotted Nina across the aisle, and he tensed up slightly, ready for the inevitable confrontation.  Fuck, and they’d been doing so good. Of course, someone had to throw him a curveball. 

Good thing he was willing to work for this. 

"Relax." He said quietly, his hand squeezing her shoulder reassuringly, thumbing over the fabric. "I'll handle it."

Harry could feel the tension in her body as he held onto her, knowing that she was on edge. He knew Nina could be a handful, and he didn't want her to add to the stress of the situation. Especially after Y/N was seemingly warming up to him.

He took a deep breath and turned to her, his expression neutral but firm. 

"Nina." He said, his voice calm and steady- almost bored. "Why are you glaring at us like that?”

Nina’s eyes flicked between the pair, her expression hardening as she spoke. “What are you two doing?” She asked, her voice dripping with disdain. 

Harry kept his expression neutral, his hand on Y/N unmoving as he spoke to her. “We’re shopping. Is that a crime?” He replied, his tone cool.

Nina’s lip curled up in a sneer, her eyes narrowing. "Shopping? Is that all?" She asked, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “Awfully domestic, isn’t it?”

Harry chuckled, unruffled by her attitude. "Yes, Nina. We’re just picking up some groceries. Is that so hard to believe?" he challenged, letting her try and intimidate him. It wasn’t going to work. 

The girl’s jaw clenched as Harry responded to her, clearly annoyed at the lack of reaction she was getting from him. 

She took a step closer, sizing Y/N up with an unpleasant expression. She really needed to not make that face- it was unflattering.  “Is this a date or something?” She snapped, her eyes flickering over to Harry.

Harry chuckled at Nina’s question, finding her assumption humorous. 

He looked over at the girl he wished would say yes, his eyes filled with amusement. "What do you think, love?” He taunted.  Maybe it wasn’t the nicest thing to do, but he didn’t particularly care. 

Y/N rolled her eyes. This wasn’t what she wanted out of this interaction. Hell- she never wanted his interaction at all. “We’re shopping.” She said lowly. “And we have to go.”

Nina pursed her lips as her response, clearly unsatisfied with the answer she was given. She never could leave well enough alone. Harry could see her gearing up for another snarky comment, so he quickly interjected. 

"She’s right." He said, his tone firm. “We do have to go. Bye."  There was no hint of remorse on his face as he motioned for her to get out of the way. 

With that, he guided Y/N forward, steering both her and the cart towards the checkout area.

“Christ.” Y/N rubbed her temples. “She’s gonna try and burn my house down. I know it.” She sulked.

Harry chuckled at the outburst. He continued steering the cart towards the checkout area as she went back over the list, a small smile on his lips. 

"Don't be so overdramatic." He teased. "She's not gonna burn down your house. She's just jealous."

“Harry, she’s scared like, 4 women away from hanging out anywhere near you completely.” Y/N sighed. “I know you don’t see it as much, but she’s tenacious. I don’t know what’s going to get her to stop, but you need to actually have a conversation with her to tell her you’re not interested. Or whoever ends up being your girlfriend is going to have to deal with her crawling around.”

Harry’s smile faded slightly as she mentioned Nina’s past behavior. He knew she could be intense and possessive, but he didn’t realize the extent of her actions. Considering he hadn’t even slept with her, it seemed like a massive overreaction. Of course there had been natural curiosity over some of the women in their friend circle had gone, but now that question had been answered. 

He bit his lip, mulling over the words as he helped her load the groceries onto the checkout belt. "You’re right." He said finally, his voice serious as it broke up the beeping of the items being scanned. "I guess I didn’t realize it was that serious. M’sorry. I don't particularly want to have that conversation, but it needs to be had. I’ll talk to her."

Harry continued helping you with the groceries, lost in thought for a moment before speaking again. "I’ll talk to her soon, make sure she knows for sure me and her are never going to be a thing and if she wants to try and scare off anyone I talk to, she won’t be invited to anything else." He said firmly, his eyes serious. 

"But first," he added, breaking the tense air as his tone turned playful again, "We have to get these groceries home. I’m starving."

—

It was safe to say that she was even more confused than she had started off being. 

Harry helped her bring the groceries into her place. He helped her unpack. He even fed her cat while she washed the fruit so she could put it away. Helping himself to her house like he had a right to be there, a comfortability that had her a little spooked. 

It was hard to accept the thought of Harry actually liking her. First, she hadn’t ever seen him with a serious girlfriend. All she had been exposed to was seeing him fucking around with different people. Secondly, he was always so playful and unserious that internally, the most insecure part of her felt like maybe it was a trick, and it made her more apprehensive of him. 

It wasn’t fair of her to be so judgmental when she was not a virgin mary herself; she knew that she wasn’t giving him a proper shot, but it was scary. He was scary, in a way.  Maybe it was the idea of how far feelings could go if she gave in, but it felt hard to stop those original emotions she had towards him from coming back. 

“Thank you.” She said awkwardly as Harry sat at her breakfast bar. “Um, for helping put away the stuff and bringing it inside. That was really nice of you.”

Harry, who was lounging in a chair at the breakfast bar, chuckled at the awkward gratitude.  "S’no big deal." He said, his tone casual. "I’m happy to help." 

He leaned back in the chair, his eyes roaming over her face, his favorite thing to do. Watching her was the best part of being around her.  He could see the tension in her shoulders and the uncertainty in her expression, and it made him wonder what was going on in that head of hers. Why she was so apprehensive. Yeah, he knew he had a weird dynamic with her before, but no one thought of him as a bad guy.

The longer he looked, the longer Harry could tell that there was something bothering her, and he wanted to find out what. Call it morbid curiosity, but it was needed. He leaned forward a bit, his eyes locked on her pretty face.

"You seem a little tense." He said, his voice soft. "Is everything okay? You've been quiet since we got back."

She hadn’t expected him to call her out on it, but she should have. Harry was as blunt as they came, and she could have laughed at it if she didn’t feel a little anxious. 

“I’m okay.” She wrapped her arms around herself, looking at her feet for a moment the soft green ladybug socks he had given her a laugh over. “I’m a little anxious, I guess. This new dynamic kind of… put me off kilter.” The confession hung in the air before she continued.  “I’m used to you being annoying and… I dunno. It’s unfair of me, but I keep getting nervous that this is some joke to you and you’re gonna go back to being obnoxious once I let my guard down.” She winced. “And I’m sorry. That isn’t fair to you when I know I haven’t been the nicest to you either. But I guess you intimidate me a little.”

Harry listened intently as she spoke, his expression softening as she revealed the source of the troubled look on her face. He knew that he had been a bit of an arse in the past too, and he could understand why his sudden change in behavior had thrown her off. 

He leaned forward on his hands, his gaze still fixed on the girl’s tense stance, lips rolled into her mouth. "I get it." He said quietly. "And I’m sorry if I intimidated you or made you uncomfortable. That’s the last thing I wanted to do."  He ran a hand through his hair, sighing softly. "And as for this being a joke... it’s not. Not in the slightest. Trust me."

“I guess I’m a little confused too.” She admitted. “Where all of this is coming from. I know we hooked up a few weeks ago, but you didn’t call me or anything after. I wasn’t expecting you to, don’t get me wrong, but then I felt awkward seeing you at all the events and stuff and you were acting normal. I never let you get alone with me on purpose because I didn’t want to hear you tease me for giving into you.”

Harry’s expression soured a bit as she brought up the hook-up. He knew he hadn’t done anything to dispel her doubts about his intentions, and he felt a pang of regret.  He paused for a moment, gathering his thoughts. How could he explain it without sounding as stupid as he felt? “I know I didn’t call you after, and I should have. I was an idiot… I just… I thought maybe you wanted me to chase a bit, that the ball had been left in your court after I dropped you off at home and… and I didn’t think, honestly.”  He ran a hand through his hair, a frustrated sigh escaping his lips. 

“You have to understand why I’m a little uneasy.” With arms wrapped around herself, she let herself look back up at him. There was no trace of joking on his features and it did make her feel a tad bit better.  “It’s not that I didn’t like… what we did.” It was the best she’d ever had. “But I think I’m not cut out for just hooking up. I don’t regret it, even if I acted like I did.” She decided to give him a tiny bit of her vulnerability to see what he did with it. “I just know that hooking up, for me, never ends well. And I don’t know you really well, Harry.” She fiddled with the hem of her shirt, nerves shot. The last thing she wanted to do was seem desperate about locking him down or something, but she couldn’t lie to him or herself.

“I’m not trying to make you feel any sort of pressure to want to date me or anything. I’m just trying to lay down a boundary that for me, I think I’m one of those people that really needs an intimate connection and trust with someone. For some reason I trusted you that night, and I know you wouldn’t harm me in that way, but sobered up and standing in front of you, I feel a little apprehensive. Like, I don’t want you to feel any sort of pressure from me, but in order to have me in the way you said you want… it has to have some level of commitment is basically what I’m trying to say.”

Harry listened intently as she laid down the boundaries, his expression thoughtful. He could see the vulnerability in her eyes and in the way she fidgeted with her shirt, and it tugged at his heart in a way he hasn't felt before.  The last thing he wanted was for her to feel any sort of regret and he was glad she hadn’t so far, but he had to appreciate her laying out the law here. It gave him direction on where to go. When she finished speaking, he took a moment to process the words before responding. He can feel the seriousness of the conversation, and it's clear that she wasn’t making demands lightly.

He took a deep breath, his own vulnerability on display in his honest gaze. It was imperative to him that she understood how much he got it. How dedicated he would be to it if given the chance. "I understand." He said quietly, licking over his bottom lip. "I understand that you need a committed relationship, darling. I also understand that you need trust and intimacy in order to get there." he added, his voice soft. 

He took a moment to organize his thoughts, then continued speaking. It should be laid out in front of her. “You know, I’ve been thinking about this a lot lately… about us, I mean.”

“What do you mean?” She asked quietly, taking the moment to look him in the eye. It was the most serious she had ever seen him. Usually he had that smirk on his face, so smug or teasing, he’d be poking and prodding at her to get a reaction- but nothing about this interaction was insincere. It was almost off putting to see him this way.

Harry's gaze met hers, his eyes intense. "I mean that I've been thinking about us in a more serious way." he admitted.  He took a deep breath, his expression tentative. "I know I've been kind of hot and cold with you… and I know that I've played games in the past. But after we hooked up… I really couldn’t stop thinking about you. How different we were like that… How good it felt. So I want you to know that... I don’t want to play games with you. I want t’be serious about this."

Y/N hadn’t expected that answer. In all honesty she thought he’d reject her, say he wasn’t into it and keep it moving. That was what she was prepared for- not this. That sort of confession had her realizing that maybe she really didn’t know him at all. She knew some parts, sure, but seeing him like this was brand new. This man in front of her was a familiar stranger, at least this new side.

“I’d have to get to know you better.” She brushed her hair behind her ear, giving him a tentative look. “And it would be a little slow. I think I could give you a chance, though. I’ve been unfair to you, I think. I feel like we… kind of got off on the wrong foot.”

Harry lets out a small sigh of relief, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. “I’m okay with slow.” he says, his voice sincere. “I’m willing to work for it.”

He leaned back a bit, giving her a little more space as a hint of his usual playfulness returned to his features.. “And I think you’re right… we got off on the wrong foot. But I’m glad we’re taking the time to get to know each other now.”

——-

—— 

Harry was coming over again. 

It was strange. Since they’d agreed to explore something romantic, seriously, he had changed. Not completely, not to the point where she wondered who he was before, but enough to make her soften up. Hints of him being a pain in the ass we’re still there. But he was… sweet. Genuine. A little silly in a cute way that she hadn’t allowed herself to enjoy before. 

One of the biggest shocks of all, was the fact that he was so gentle with her. He handled her with care, even if he was a little overly touchy. She was getting used to it because she found herself liking it, but he was the first guy to really be a bit of a clinger. 

That was the last thing she had ever expected from him.

His touches were soft and sweet and he looked at her with this little twinkle in his eye that she knew he couldn’t genuinely fake it. He liked her- liked her , liked her. 

She was still a bit shy with him, but it was slowly melting away each time they saw each other. Now the nerves were barely there, being overtaken by anticipation and excitement. It wasn’t something she’d ever thought would happen- being excited and antsy to see Harry, wanting him back in her house. 

He was coming over tonight and she had been prepping for a bit, primping and priming herself even though she wanted to look casual. There was never once so far that he hadn’t told her she looked gorgeous, and it had started becoming part of her daily routine. She wanted to impress him, make him say it again and mean it.

Her tummy twisted as she heard his car door slam shut, smiling to herself as she adjusted her cropped top and went towards the door. 

He was beautiful. Really, gorgeous as she opened the door to reveal him in the early evening light. He looked a little tired from work,slight bags under his eyes, but his smile melted her a little as he walked right into the house, dropping his bag in the foyer with little care for its well-being and picked her up in a big hug. Her feet dangled as she squealed, strong arms wrapped around her waist as he lifted her effortlessly. 

“Hi.” She beamed shyly, feeling him set her down on the floor.

Harry couldn’t help but grin as he placed her down, his strong arms wrapping around her waist lazily.. He loved how delicate she felt in his arms, and he loved the way she squealed with surprise as he lifted her up a bit. Really, he loved most things that had to do with her. Taking a moment to admire her cozy appearance, his gaze lingered on her cropped top. “Hi.” He replied, his voice soft and warm. “You look beautiful.”

Like clockwork.

Before she could respond, Harry was pulling her back into a hug, burying his face in her shoulder as he held her, rocking slightly. A prime example of how touchy he was, unable to stop himself. He nuzzled her neck, letting his cool nose brush against the hot skin. “I missed you.” he mumbled, his voice muffled against her, leaving a little shiver in it’s wake..

When he said things like that it made her want to giggle madly, but also melt into a puddle. He truly meant it, was the thing, and she had a hard time understanding how this had happened. How he had gone from her little enemy to the person she looked toward to seeing the most. 

“I missed you too.” She admitted, fingers tracing down his back. It was an attempt to get more open about her feelings. Harry was being candid about his own, so she felt like she could extend him the same grace. Even if it was slightly terrifying, she had no reason to hold back anymore.

Harry pulled back slightly to look at her, a soft smile on his lips at her shy admission. "I like it when you say that." he teased, his voice low.  He brought his hands up to rest on her hips, his thumbs tracing small circles on the bare skin. He loved the way the cropped top revealed just enough to make him want more, and he found himself struggling to focus on anything but the feel of her body under his hands.

Harry wanted her, and there was obvious desire for her there. In all honesty, there was a lot of desire for her in general that he had done his best to keep under wraps  He’d been so good, trying so hard to prove himself- but that didn’t mean he was a saint. He was beyond attracted to her in every sense of the word, and it was hard to ignore that..

“Excuse me.” She let her smile grow, her tone playful. “My eyes are up here.” 

Y/N knew Harry wanted her in all of the ways, and he’d been exceedingly patient. He knew she was trying to build their connection before getting intimate with him again, and she appreciated it- but that didn’t mean she didn’t enjoy knowing he desired her. 

Or that she didn’t have those same urges.

Harry's gaze flicked back up to meet hers, a cheeky grin on his face. "I know where your eyes are. I look at them plenty, do I not?" He replied smoothly, his hands still resting on her waist, giving a gentle squeeze.  He couldn't help but let out a small laugh as she shot him a look, his eyes sparkling with mirth. "But you can't expect me to ignore the rest of you when you're wearing something as distracting as that." Testing the waters, he was seeing how far his flirtation could go.

“It’s loungewear, you freak.” She scoffed, a hint of a smile turning up her lips. Leggings and a cropped top were a bit of a reward for him, though. She figured if he had been so patient with her then he could at least get to look at her. “But I’m glad you like it.” 

Taking his hand in her smaller one, she led him towards the kitchen to show him the pizza boxes and salad she had made to pair with it, feeling weirdly shy about it. That was the theme of today, considering she had come to a conclusion in her head- but he didn’t need to know about it quite yet. “I knew you’d be hungry when you got off work, so I ordered ahead.”

Harry's eyes lit up as he saw the food, warmth spreading through him. No one had been thoughtful like that to him before, but of course she would be. This sort of thing was why he had liked her. He’d seen it time and time again with their other friends and secretly wished for some of it for himself, that sort of care… and now that he got it, he felt that yearning for her get a little bit stronger. He let out a low whistle. "You knew exactly what I needed." he murmured, a grateful smile on his lips. 

Pulling her into him, his arms wrapping around her waist from behind. He nuzzled her neck again, his breath warm on her skin. "You're too good to me." he murmured, his voice showing just how grateful he was.

Y/N shivered slightly as he spoke against her skin, large arms wrapping around her and making her feel that same brand of delicacy that only Harry had been able to accomplish. His arms were just… beautiful. Built and muscular, covered in those tattoos, she loved every single thing about them. Looking at them, feeling them, how he used them… she couldn’t admit it out loud yet, but being in his arms was one of her new favorite places. 

“You texted and said you didn’t sleep well and you had a rougher day at work and… I dunno. I thought maybe you’d like something ready when you came over. I would have cooked myself but I had a workshop.” She rambled on a little bit, feeling the need to overexplain herself.

Harry squeezed her tighter, his chin resting on her shoulder. He inhaled her scent, his nose buried in hair as she spoke. 

"Mmm. " He hummed, his voice low and gravelly. He ran his nose over her throat, lips brushing against the sensitive skin. "You didn't have to do all this, you know." He moved his hands down over her hips, his thumbs tracing soft circles on the exposed skin there. "But I'm really grateful you did." He was quiet for a moment before speaking again, his grip on her tightening slightly. "Can I ask you somethin’?"

“Hm?” She replied. It was hard to focus. Sure, it would be awkward if anyone else say them just standing in her kitchen with the large man wrapped around her body, but no one else was there to judge her for indulging both herself and him in this sort of cuddle. 

Harry's body was pressed against her, a small smile on his lips. He really did enjoy this moment of quiet intimacy just as much as he enjoyed the more energetic moments where they’d go out or he’d help her take care of her garden.

"Can I stay over tonight?"

It should have been a scarier question to her, all things considered, but the answer came out of her mouth naturally. 

“Sure.” She nodded. There was no second guessing it either. “Is that what that bag was?” She realized he had brought in a bigger duffle than his usual work one, but she had thought it was maybe just to change from his work clothes.

Harry's smile grew as she agreed so easily. "Mhmm." he hummed, his voice low. His hands moved up her sides, tracing the curve of her waist. "I wanted to be prepared just in case you said yes." Presumptuous? He’d prefer the terms hopeful, even confident. They’d been doing so well, he had to at least ask.

He pulled back slightly, looking down at her with a hint of a smirk on his face. "So... where can I sleep?"

He turned her in his grip, letting her look up at his face now with narrowed eyes. Her heartbeat quickened though she tried to calm it down. He was teasing her a little bit, but he did genuinely want to know. 

“If you promise no extreme funny business… you can sleep in my bed.” She placed her hand on his bicep, squeezing a little. It was her own reward. “But remember, Harry. No sex. Okay?” Gliding her other hand up to cuff over the back of his neck, she decided it was finally time to tease him back a bit. “However… If you’re really, really nice to me… I may let you kiss me again.”

Harry's smile widened, his eyes sparkling with a hint of challenge. He leaned down, bringing his face closer to the girl’s.  "You're being bold, darling." he teased, his voice low and playful. "Are you trying to tempt me?"

“A little.” She hummed. “I like when you’re sweet to me. So if you keep it up, I’ll let you kiss me as long as you’d like tonight. I know I’ve been holding all of that intimacy hostage…” 

It had been driving him wild. Near kisses and her letting him brush his hand over the curve of her ass a few times before putting them back up to her hips, he’d tested the waters but got rejected. Now, she was loosening up a bit. 

“So.” She blinked up at him. “Are you gonna be nice to me tonight so you can kiss me?”

Harry's eyes glinted with a mixture of desire and playful mischief. He loved it when she teased him just as much as he loved it when she got all shy and flustered. Which one he likes more, he couldn’t tell. "Oh, I'll be so nice to you tonight you won't be able to stand it." he purred, his voice low and husky. 

He wrapped his arms around her waist, drawing her closer until their bodies were flush against each other. "But I have one condition, little miss."

“What is that?” She questioned, unsure what it could be. With him, it could be anything.

"You have to promise me that if I'm being too... forward, you'll tell me to back off. I don't want to overstep. Even though I want to kiss you until you can't think straight. So promise me you'll speak up if I get too much." 

Her smile widened, nodding in agreement. He’d just earned himself quite a few points. Never had she expected him to be as respectful as he was, but she utterly adored it.  “I will. I promise, I’ll tell you.” She agreed, leaning up to kiss the curve of his jaw. “But it’s time for you to eat. I can feel your tummy grumbling.”

Harry let out a low chuckle, his eyes flickering over her pretty face. He loved the way her smile widened, and the feeling of her plump lips against his jaw send a shiver down his spine. More. He wanted more, and more, until their mouths were tingling and numb. Until she looked drunk on the kisses, clinging to him like he could only hope.

"Mmm. Okay, fine." he grumbled. "I'll eat. But only if you feed me, since you were so kind as to order ahead for me." He gave her a puppy-dog look, his lower lip jutted out in a mock-pout. It was good, she’s give him that- but not good enough.

“Absolutely not.” She snorted. “Nice try.”

[the-witty-pen-name]

Meddling Mr. Munson

Eddie Munson x F!Reader

Word Count: 1.7k

Summary: Wayne is your favorite regular at work. Plus- his nephew is really cute.

Warnings: fluff, so much fluff and good feels you’ll get a toothache, allusions to pregnancy, alcohol mentioned, mentions of bullying

The first time you meet Wayne Munson, you’re eight hours into your six hour shift at the only diner in Hawkins that's open twenty-four hours. You’re working the overnight shift, and you were supposed to be relieved at 4:00am, but the waitress who was supposed to relieve you called from a payphone to tell you her bus broke down and she can’t get to work until the replacement arrives. So now, you’re brewing a fresh pot of coffee for the only patron you’ve had before the breakfast rush- which hopefully you’ll be missing.

You chit chat with Mr. Munson while he sits at the counter nursing his black coffee. He works overnight at the plant you’ve learned, and he asks you questions about your college classes. He doesn’t admit it, because he’s not the type, but he really enjoys the daily chats with you as stopping at the diner after work becomes one of his routines.

“You should come meet me for breakfast on your way to school,” Wayne suggests one night when he and Eddie are watching TV. His suggestion is met with Eddie blowing a raspberry and a grumble about not wanting to wake up that early. Wayne tosses his hat at Eddie, harmlessly making Eddie jump. “I ain’t asking,” Wayne reiterates and Eddie nods sheepishly, sinking into the couch.

Your eyes light up when you hear the bell on the front door. You already know it’s one of your favorite regulars before you even look up. “‘Morning, Mr. Munson,” you say cheerfully, “Take a seat, I just put on a fresh pot.” You look up and you’re surprised to see he isn’t alone. “Oh, hi Eddie,” you say with a grin, surprised to see Wayne isn’t alone. Eddie’s brain short circuits because he doesn’t know how you even know him, and you are very pretty.

You step out from behind the counter with two mugs in hand as they slide into a booth. “You don’t remember me,” you tease, filling both the mugs with coffee. Eddie fumbles over his words apologetically and Wayne smirks to himself. “That’s okay, we weren’t really friends,” you explain and tell him your name, “You sat in front of me last year in Ms.O’Donnell’s class. We didn’t really talk much.” He’s silently thanking you for omitting that you didn’t talk because he was hardly there. However, he’s practically soaring that despite that you somehow remembered him and aren’t recoiling in disgust.

“Eddie’s got her again this year,” Wayne interjects and Eddie wants to roll under the booth. He’s suddenly embarrassed that he’s repeating senior year again and he wished you didn’t know that. Wayne means nothing by it, literally just making conversation, and the news Eddie is in her class doesn’t seem to even phase you.

“She’s brutal,” you exhale, “If you want, I think I still have my notes somewhere. They’re all yours.”

“T-that’d be great,” he manages to get out. You smile at him and his limbs feel like clay.

“Yeah, of course,” you wave it off like it’s nothing. “I’ll come back in a few and grab your orders, take your time.”

Wayne is using his menu to hide his grin from Eddie. He didn’t know if Eddie and you would hit it off, he just had hopes. He’s not one to meddle, especially in his nephew’s love life, but when you had told Wayne you didn’t have a boyfriend, he immediately wanted to introduce you to Eddie. He knew Eddie would just reject the idea, so he didn’t say anything.

“She’s cute,” Wayne says after a minute when you disappear behind the door to the kitchen.

“God, cut it out,” Eddie exclaims, dramatically covering his face with his hands. His face is bright red. This seriously can not be happening right now. “Wayne, seriously, you are not seriously trying to set me up right now?”

“I’m just trying to treat my nephew to breakfast, I thought it would be nice. We haven’t done this in a while,” he says evenly, but Eddie knows the truth. “I think I’m gonna get the meat lover’s omelet,” he muses, acting oblivious to Eddie’s antics.

Eddie’s nervous bouncing of his leg is making the booth shake, and the coffee spills out over the rim of the mugs ever so slightly. Wayne slides over extra napkins, and chastises Eddie about leaving rings on the table.

“Are you all set?” You ask, getting your notepad out of the front pocket of your apron. Wayne nods and Eddie is staring blankly at the menu in front of him, paralyzed.

“The pancakes are really good if you’re still trying to decide,” you offer, thinking Eddie is actually reading the menu.

“U-uh yeah, that sounds good,” he replies. You nod and scribble it down on your pad.

“Your usual Wayne?” You ask and he nods.

“You’re the best,” he smiles, passing you the menus.

“It’ll be right out,” you reply, “Do you want me to top these off?” Wayne offers you his empty cup and Eddie manages to shake his head no. You disappear behind the doors again to ring in the order, and Wayne nudges Eddie to snap out of it.

“You’re being rude,” he says, “Look I get it, I’ll stay out of it. But you don’t have to freeze her out. She’s being lovely.”

Of course you’re being lovely, Eddie screams internally. You are lovely! He can’t bring himself to correct his uncle that he’s not ignoring you to spite him, but he’s actually tongue tied and completely fumbling. He can’t give Wayne the satisfaction of being right and he also doesn’t want to say anything out loud in utter fear you’d hear him.

“Food should be right out,” you say with a sweet smile. You walk over to the opposite side of the diner and wipe down a few of the empty booths. Eddie flexes his fingers over his thighs repeatedly to try to relax. Wayne watches Eddie, starting to notice he’s a lot more twitchy than he usually is. Eddie’s always animated but this is new. Maybe, Wayne muses, his little plan might actually be working.

Wayne really only ever wants Eddie to be happy. He’s had a front row seat to the abuse Eddie has received from his peers his whole life. Under the tattoos and the hair and the ripped jeans, Wayne still sees the little boy he tucked into bed and the little boy who sat on the kitchen counter while he helped clean his scraped knees. He wished the pain he had to help Eddie navigate was still that simple. Wayne thought maybe you’d see Eddie the way he did.

You’re nice, and genuinely so. Wayne thought if anyone could see Eddie, truly see him for the amazing kid he was, it would be you. Even if this whole stupid plan of his amounted to nothing more, you’re treating Eddie with such a normal level of human decency and you have no idea how much that means to the both of them. For Wayne, that’s more than he could ever ask for. He knows as much as he’s resisting, Eddie will leave here and go to school feeling a little bit better. For a brief moment in an empty diner, he can see the world isn’t always out to get him. Sometimes, the world is nice- with pretty girls to talk to and uncles who love you more than life itself.

When you bring out the food, Wayne watches the way your eyes linger on Eddie. You’re also being a little shy. He smiles to himself, keeping his head low while he starts to dig into his food. You ask Eddie about his band, and Wayne watches his nephew’s eyes light up, his usual confidence returning to the forefront as he tells you all about Corroded Coffin. You listen, and Wayne realizes you’re not just placating Eddie, you actually care.

“I’ll have to come to another show sometime,” you say, “I say you guys at The Hideout like a couple months ago actually.”

“Really?” Eddie’s eyes widen in disbelief. You giggle, and nod.

“Yup, you guys were awesome,” you assure him. “If you guys ever sell a tape, let me know. I want one.”

As they finish up their breakfast, you drop off the check, and Eddie thinks he might die when he sees you’ve scribbled your number on the receipt for him. The check has been comped and the note read:

“Wayne, Happy to treat my favorite customer! Eddie, in case you’d want to go out sometime? No pressure.” With your number underneath.

The most recent time you saw Wayne Munson, he pulled you into a hug and thanked you for inviting him over. It’s the first time you and Eddie are hosting a holiday in your new apartment.

He smiles as he looks around. You and Eddie have really done an amazing job making a cozy little life together. He smells the turkey finishing up in the oven and he can’t believe he can finally witness his nephew this happy. The two of you insist he sit in the living room while you both finish cooking for him. He’s enjoying watching the two of you work in the kitchen together, moving synchronously like you’ve done this dance a million times before- and you have.

He settles in and Eddie brings him a beer. Wayne looks around at Eddie’s and your new home and he can’t help but beam with pride. This is all he could’ve asked for Eddie- all he’s ever wanted to see him have. Eddie’s still as dopey grinned and smitten as he was the first day back at the diner. Wayne knows you’re the one- he knew before you or Eddie knew.

Eddie’s his son, even if he’ll never be called Dad. He doesn’t want that anyways. But, he knows your the best daughter-in-law he could have ever asked for. A best friend and a confidant from the first day he met you. He’s so glad to have you both together in his life. Little did he know, that tonight after dinner when he’s long past just full- but not too full for pie- Eddie would hold your hand and you’d both sit across from him, giving him the best news he could possibly hear in this lifetime.

His small trio, will shortly be adding a fourth band member.

[wonustars]

In Front of Me (Teaser)

⊹ pairing: jeon wonwoo x f.reader ⊹ genre: bestfriend to lovers, angst, smut (18+ mdni) ⊹ wordcount: TBA (this teaser: 679) ⊹ release date: TBA

⊹ summary: jeon wonwoo has spent most of his adolesence and early adult hood unable to understand why he can't seem to stay in a relationship for more than a few months. as his best friend, you allowed him to vent about his worries without judgment. so what if you're in love with him? your friendship with wonwoo meant more to you than having your feelings reciprocated. that is until you hit your breaking point, while wonwoo finally realizes what has been in front of him this whole time. ⊹ tags: non-idol!au, uni!au, bestfriends to lovers (?), unrequted love, emotionaly stunted charcters, wonwoo has a bit of an ego, toxic!wonwoo&reader. (more tags and smut tag added to full fic when posted.) ⊹ note: im really excited to share this with you all. its not by any means done but heres a teaser for now since ive been away for so long ♡ also the teaser is not edited so pls just ignore if theres typos hehe. lov u all pls come into my ask box cuz i refuse to shut up abt this story :p.

⊹ masterlist, taglist, fic playlist.

Rejection is foreign to Wonwoo.

Most times, it’s him that’s doing the rejecting. He was the one to always initiate the break up, to lose feelings first, every decision was made by him. He has no control over whether you’re going to text him back or not, and to put it simply, he can’t stand that feeling. 

Wonwoo hates not being in control. Whether that be his future, his relationships, and especially his feelings. At least that’s what he forces himself to believe. That it’s not fair of you to ignore him when he’s worried about you, because he’s your best friend. You should answer him when he texts you. When he calls you, and especially when he shows up to your door, seeking your comfort. In his mind, that is what he believes the foundation of your friendship is. To comfort each other, just like it always has been. 

Sure, maybe Wonwoo is entitled, perhaps he’s conceited and selfish, but he doesn’t care. Because in his mind, you’re his bestfriend. There was no way in hell that you were ignoring him. His ego doesn’t even consider it a possibility. You were busy, that’s it. That has to be it. 

{໒꒰ྀིっ˕ -。꒱ྀི১  ‧₊˚ ⋅ ⋆˙}

Less than fourty-eight hours in, Wonwoo couldn’t stop himself from texting you once more. Nimble fingers practically itching to open your contact to update you about the most mundane things. Maybe if he pretended that this moment of silence is perfectly normal, then maybe, you would eventually end up answering him. 

12:36 p.m [wons <3]: class just finished. lunch at our usual place?

Nothing. Not even a thumb’s up reaction. Wonwoo had become antsy, guilt and slight annoyance gnawing at the pit of his stomach. Where the hell are you? What are you doing that’s so important that you couldn’t even open his message let alone read them? 

1:27 p.m.  [wons <3]: this random girl asked for my number after class lol. weird right? i didn’t give it to her though 😁

Cursing at himself, he regrets pressing the send button on that text. Double texting you is already out of the norm for him, but triple texting? He can’t believe how desperate he looks right now. He wishes he could bring himself to unsend it, but he just hopes it’ll be the text that finally gets you to respond. 

2:10 p.m. [wons <3]: saw a bunny running thru the oval today u should’ve seen it! reminded me of u.  [1 photo attachment] 

Absolute radio silence from your end. Wonwoo is starting to think that you had him blocked, but his messages are still delivering. Unsure of what’s worse, you ignoring him or blocking his number, Wonwoo still tries his best to remain calm.

4:00 p.m. [wons <3]: im about to head home soon. r u riding w me today? 

The sight of you getting into Seokmin’s car made Wonwoo scoff. Since when did you start getting rides home from Seokmin? And why was he the one opening the door for you? Buckling your seatbelt instead of his own? Wonwoo is completely dumbfounded at what he had witnessed. 

4:30 p.m.  [wons <3]: saw u get into seokmin’s car, lmk if u need a ride tmrw. 

Seeing you laugh and smile while walking to the student parking lot with Seokmin of all people solidified the fact that you are actively ignoring his texts. And he just can’t stand the thought of it. How dare he be ignored? Especially by his best friend, the one person who had always responded to him, no matter the time or how busy you were, you always texted him back. 

Wonwoo initially thought that even if the world ended, you would be there within arms reach, enough to hold you close, where he can keep you safe. You were predictable in that sense. But if the world decided to burst into flames, or swallow itself whole tomorrow, he’s unsure if you would be there right next to him by the time he woke up.

⊹ a/n: if u want to be apart of the taglist please fill out the form, comment or send an ask! please note that i'll only add those who have an age indicator somewhere in their blog! thank you ♡

[itneverendshere]

the first relapse being the most scariest thing you’ve seen. sarah’s even calling you about him like “dads trying to get his doctor on the line just in case he od’s”

added this to what i'd already summarized in this ask!! hope everyone enjoys the angst 😔🫂 it’s a little long (around 7.1k)

death by a thousand cuts - r.c

pairing: rafe x pogue!reader (bartender!reader universe) warnings: substance abuse.

Ward’s sitting at the dining table, barely glancing up from his phone when Rafe walks in. His jaw clenches. That look—so cold, so dismissive—always sets something off in him.

“What’s wrong?” Rafe asks, already knowing this isn’t just a normal night.

Ward doesn’t answer right away, just sighs like Rafe being here is another weight on his shoulders. “Your mother called today.”

Rafe freezes.

He doesn’t have to ask which mother. Ward’s new wife has nothing to do with this. His real mom. The one who left.

He tries to stay calm, but he can feel his blood pumping, “What’d she want?”

“She says she wants to see you. You and your sisters.”

Rafe’s eyes narrow, his heart pounding harder now. The audacity of it. She always did this—popped back in when it was convenient for her, like they were just part of her life she could pick up and drop whenever she felt like it.

When was the last time? A couple of years? Before that? It doesn’t matter.

“No. I’m not doing this again.” 

“Rafe—”

“No, I said no.” The anger wells up fast, a familiar burn in his chest. He stands there, fists clenched. “She’s full of shit, dad. She doesn't give a fuck about us. So, no. I’m not seeing her.”

Ward looks up, calm as ever, but there's that edge in his eyes—the one that always makes Rafe feel like a little kid who’s stepped out of line. “You’re overreacting. She’s still your mother.”

“My mother?” He lets out a bitter laugh, but there’s no humor in it. His fists tighten at his sides. “She left. She fucking left us. She’s not my mother. She’s just some lady who couldn’t handle shit.”

Ward stands up now. “Watch your mouth.”

“Watch my mouth?” Rafe barks back, stepping forward, his anger boiling over. “I watched her leave me every time she got bored or freaked out. And you—you didn’t do shit!.You just let it happen. Let her walk out over and over.”

“That’s enough, Rafe.”

But he's not done.

He’s too pissed to think straight. “What? You gonna defend her? You’re the one who let her fuck me up like this! You—”

“Stop blaming everyone else for your problems,” Ward snaps, his voice rising. "Grow up. She left.  And you’re still standing here acting like a child over it.”

Something inside Rafe cracks. His chest tightens like someone’s squeezing the air out of him. "A child? You don't get it. You never got it. She fucked me up. She fucked all of us up, and you're still acting like it's nothing." His mind is spinning, flashing back to all those nights he was too high to breathe, too strung out to care if he woke up the next day. He feels like he’s suffocating, the anger burning too fast. “I’m not doing this again, dad. I’m not.”

Ward’s gaze turns cold. “She’s trying now. That has to count for something.”

“Trying? Trying?!” Rafe grits out, stepping forward. All those years, all those broken promises, all the times he was left wondering what the hell he did wrong to make her leave—and now Ward wants him to sit down like it’s a fucking family reunion. 

“I don’t care what you think about it, Rafe. This isn’t up for discussion. You will see her, and that’s final.”

“No. No fucking way!” He shouts, his voice shaking as he steps closer to Ward, fists clenched. “You can’t make me do this. I’m not going to sit there and pretend like everything’s okay when she’s the reason I turned into the mess I was. And you—” His chest heaves as he fights to find the words, his throat tight. “You’re just as bad as she is.”

Ward’s eyes narrow dangerously, but he continues, “Every time she left, you didn’t do a goddamn thing. You let her walk all over us. You let her leave me, leave us, and you never said a word. You’re a shitty father, just as bad as her."

Ward’s face darkens, a storm brewing behind his eyes. “Don’t you dare talk to me like that.”

“I’ll talk to you however the hell I want,” Rafe fires back, stepping even closer, eyes blazing. “You didn’t stop her. You never protected me. You sat there and watched her fuck me up and then turned around and blamed me for it. Like I was the problem.”

“You were the problem,” Ward snaps, “She didn’t know how to handle you, and neither did I. You were a fucking disaster, Rafe. And that’s on you.”

“No. You two were and are the fucking problem because you can’t let go of her.”

Ward takes a step forward, “This isn’t about you. It’s about your sisters. Sarah wants this. Weezie deserves a chance to know her mother. It’s not all about your issues, Rafe. Grow up.”

“Grow up?” He feels like he’s suffocating, “You think I’m the one who needs to grow up? 

“Enough. You will meet her, or you can leave this house right now.”

All the work he's put in, all the shit he's tried to fix, feels like it’s slipping right through his fingers. He can’t be here. Not like this. He’s out the door before he even knows what he’s doing. That itch beneath his skin is back after years, that’s how much control his parents have over him.

Rafe’s hands are still shaking as he gets into his truck, slamming the door harder than he means to. It feels like he can’t get enough air in his lungs, and his thoughts are spinning, they’re all crashing into each other at once. The fight with his father keeps replaying in his head, louder and louder, until he can’t hear anything else.

He’s gripping the steering wheel so tight his knuckles turn white. His dad’s voice, cold and cutting, telling him he’s the problem. That he’s always been the problem. His hands are shaking worse now, trembling like he’s about to snap, and there’s only one thought pounding through his mind: He can’t go to you like this.

The thought of walking through your door, this messed up, makes him feel sick. You’ve seen him at his worst before, but this… this feels different. He can’t let you see him like this—not the old Rafe. Not the one who almost lost everything.

You don’t need to see that. You don’t deserve it.

He knows where he can go instead. Somewhere he shouldn’t, somewhere he swore he’d never go again. But right now, it feels like the only place that makes sense. His head’s spinning, his body buzzing with leftover adrenaline and anger, and he just needs it to stop.

So, he turns the key in the ignition and drives. It doesn’t take long to get to Barry’s. He knows the back roads by heart, even though it’s been years. He pulls up to the small shack Barry calls home, the lights still on, music thumping faintly from inside. It’s like nothing’s changed. The same rundown place, the same shitty cars parked out front, the same smell of smoke and spilled liquor lingering in the air.

Rafe sits there for a minute, gripping the steering wheel, breathing heavy. He shouldn’t be here. He knows that. 

He climbs out of the truck, shoving his hands into his pockets to keep them from shaking, and heads toward the door. The second he steps inside, the familiar smell of stale beer and weed hits him like a wave, bringing back memories he thought he’d buried.

Barry’s lounging on the couch, a joint hanging from his mouth, lazily flipping through channels on the TV.

“Country Club!”, Barry drawls when he notices him, smirking around the joint. “Now this is a surprise. Didn’t think I’d ever see you walk through that door again. Thought you were all clean now, with your pretty little girlfriend.”

He tenses at the mention of you. But he can’t walk out now. Not after what just happened with Ward. Not when everything inside him feels like it’s about to blow.

“I just need something,” Rafe mutters, avoiding Barry’s eyes, already regretting this but not enough to stop.

Barry raises an eyebrow, amused. “Something, huh? You know, you’ve got a real habit of showing up here when you’re all fucked up.” He laughs, low and mocking. “What’s the matter this time? Daddy issues again?”

His jaw tightens. “Just give me what I want.”

Barry leans back, flicking ash onto the floor. “You sure you wanna go down that road again, man? Thought you were past this shit.”

“I don’t care,” Rafe snaps, his voice low, shaking with frustration and something darker. “You know what I want. Go get it.”

There’s a pause, and for a second, Barry just looks at him, sizing him up. Then, with a shrug, he gets up, disappearing into the back room. Rafe waits, heart pounding in his ears, staring at the floor, trying not to think about what he’s doing. About what this means.

Barry comes back a minute later, a small bag of coke in his hand. He tosses it onto the table in front of Rafe, “Knock yourself out.”

He doesn’t hesitate. He grabs the bag, his fingers already moving on autopilot as he pulls out his wallet and shoves a roll of cash toward Barry. He knows this is stupid, reckless. He knows this is going to hurt you, more than anything else. But ll he wants is to forget. Just for a little while.

His hands stop shaking the second he takes that first line.

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You’re already drained when you step through the front door of the house, kicking off your shoes and throwing your bag onto the couch. The sticky summer air is clinging to your skin, and all you want is a cold shower and to crash in bed. 

The day’s been dragging—work was a shitshow, and all you’ve been thinking about is Rafe. You haven’t heard from him since this morning, which isn’t weird, but there’s been this nagging feeling in your chest, like something’s off.

“Hey,” Monica calls from the kitchen as you grab a glass of water and lean against the counter. She’s scrolling through her phone, half-distracted. Milo’s at kindergarten.

“Hey,” you mumble back. “Everything alright?”

She shrugs, not looking up. “Yeah, mostly.” She pauses, frowning slightly, like she’s trying to piece something together. “I think I saw Rafe’s truck earlier. Over by Barry’s place.”

You blink, trying to process what she just said. “Barry’s?”

“Yeah, you know. The guy who used to sell—Whatever.” Monica shrugs again, more casual than you feel. “I was driving back from work, and I swear it was Rafe’s truck parked outside Barry’s house.”

Your stomach drops. Instantly.

“You’re sure?”

“Looked like his truck,” your sister says, “Thought it was weird. Figured maybe he was helping someone out or something.”

But you know better.

A cold sweat breaks out over your skin. You’ve heard Rafe talk about Barry. Back when things were bad—really bad—he was the one who kept him hooked, who kept pulling him deeper. He told you everything about those years when he was drowning in addication and Barry’s name came up more than once.

And if his truck’s outside Barry’s, you know something’s wrong.

It’s like a pit in your stomach, this gnawing feeling that’s been sitting with you all day. 

“What? Why’s that such a big deal?”

You swallow, trying to keep your voice steady, but it’s impossible. “Rafe doesn’t… he doesn’t go there anymore. He hasn’t in years.”

Monica frowns, finally understanding. “Oh. Shit. You think something’s wrong?”

“I don’t know,” you mutter, already pulling out your phone, fingers wobbly as you open your messages. You scroll through the last few texts from Rafe, but there’s nothing out of the ordinary. Except the silence. He’s usually better at checking in, especially when he knows you’ve had a long day. But today? Nothing.

You stare at your screen, debating if you should call him. But deep down, you already know something’s happened. He wouldn’t go to Barry’s unless things were really bad.

“I’m sure it’s nothing,” your sister offers, but her voice is hesitant, like she’s not sure. “Maybe he was just stopping by. It doesn’t mean—”

But she doesn’t finish, and you don’t need her to. You know what it means. You feel it in your bones. He’s back in that dark place—And he didn’t come to you. He went to Barry instead.

Why didn’t he come to you?

“I need to go,” you say, your voice coming out more panicked than you’d like, but you can’t help it. Your heart’s racing, your mind is spinning, and the only thing you can focus on is Rafe. You’re grabbing your keys off the counter before your sister can even answer.

“Wait, what? Where are you going?” Monica asks, a bit alarmed now, but you don’t have time to explain.

“I need to find Rafe.”

Your sister steps forward, “Is it really that serious? I mean, maybe he’s just—”

“He’s not just anything,” you cut her off, shaking your head. “If he’s at Barry’s, it’s bad.”

Rafe had told you everything about his past—every ugly detail about the years he spent losing himself, the drugs, the fights, the constant mess of it all. He had opened up to you after your first time together. And for the past two years you’d seen him, the real Rafe, the one who tried so damn hard to be better.

And now? He’s slipping. And you weren’t there.

Your mind is racing as you drive. You think about how good things have been with him—how far he’s come. He’s not the guy he used to be. He doesn’t party like he used to, doesn’t need to numb everything with lines of coke or bottles of whiskey.

He told you about his time in rehab, how scared he was of becoming that version of himself again. But something must’ve happened.

Something big. 

Why didn’t he tell you?

The thought is suffocating. You know him—he’s reckless and impulsive sometimes, but he’s been so careful with you, always making sure you never had to see the side of him that scared him the most. He’s opened up about his struggles with anxiety, about how he sometimes still smokes weed to take the edge off, but this… this is different. 

This is worse.

It had to be Ward. He’s has always had this chokehold on him, making him feel like he’s never good enough. And whenever his mom gets brought up—whenever she’s even mentioned—it messes with him in ways you can barely understand. She’s the one person who could make him spiral, and Ward is the one person who could push him over that edge.

You slam your fist against the steering wheel, frustrated.

He’s dealing with this alone, and now he’s gone back to Barry. To coke. To everything that almost killed him before. You pull up to his place, your stomach churning. You can see Rafe’s truck parked haphazardly outside, and your heart skips a beat. He’s here.

He’s here, and he didn’t come to you.

You sit there for a moment, gripping the wheel, trying to calm yourself down, trying to figure out what the hell you’re even going to say when you see him.

You get out of the car and practically run toward Barry’s door. You know this place, know the people who come here and what they’re looking for. You’re pretty sure your dad spent half his life here, when Barry’s dad still ran the business. 

You don’t even knock. You push the door open. Barry’s on the couch, looking up lazily when you walk in, and you see Rafe—sitting in the corner, eyes bloodshot, jaw clenched.

He looks like a ghost.

Barry snickers from the couch, taking a drag from his joint. “Well, well, look who it is. Didn’t think I’d see the two of you here together.”

“Shut the fuck up, Barry,” you snap, glaring at him before turning your full attention to Rafe. “What are you doing here?”

“W-What?”

“Baby, look at you.”

He tries to stand, his movements slow, like his body isn’t responding the way he wants it to. His eyes are bloodshot, unfocused, his pupils blown wide, and he’s swaying slightly, barely able to keep his balance.

“I just... I needed to clear my head,” he mumbles, the words slurring together. His hand goes to his hair, but it’s shaking, and he can’t even look at you. “It’s not—”

“It’s not what?” You feel your heart breaking with every word, the cracks widening as you take in the mess of him, his clothes disheveled, his face pale, his hands twitching.

He stumbles again, trying to step toward you, but he’s so high he can barely stand. “I didn’t want... I didn’t want you to see me like this,” he rasps out, finally meeting your eyes for just a second before looking away. “Didn’t want you to... think I was still... still that guy.”

“You’re not that guy anymore,” you say softly, even though right now, he looks too much like that guy. “But you’re acting like him.”

His head drops, and he looks down at the floor, his shoulders sagging, defeated. “Didn’t know...what else to do.”

“And you didn’t think to come to me?” Your voice breaks on the last word, “You went to Barry instead of me?”

“Hey now—"

“I told you to shut the fuck up,” You almost scream in Barry's face, your chest rising with each breath you take. Rafe can't stand to look you in the eyes right now. He can't see the disappointment.

“You always know what to do. You call me. You come to me. Why would you run here? Why would you go back to this?” You glance at Barry, who’s watching the whole scene with a smirk on his face like he’s enjoying every second of your heartbreak. “You’re better than this. Get in the car. We can talk about this.”

But he shakes his head, his breath shaky. “Can’t… can’t be with you right now.”

“Why?” 

 “Just… too much. Hurts too much.” He looks down, guilt washing over him. “Didn’t want you to see... this.”

“Then get in the car. We can figure this out together.” Your voice cracks, the hurt pouring out.

He hesitates, shaking his head again. “I… can’t.”

It pushes something inside you.

Maybe you’ll regret it later but now it’s all you can think about. If he doesn’t want your help, he doesn’t want you. And if he doesn’t want you right now he doesn’t deserve to want you when he’s better. 

“You can either get in this car and fight with me, or you can stay here. But if you stay—”

“Y-You’ll leave?” He’s looking at you despite the fog in his brain, not sure if he’s hearing you correctly, “Leave me?”

“I didn’t say that—”

“E-everyon leaves right?"

He’s never said anything like that to you before.

“I’m not leaving you, but if you stay here, with him,” you jerk your head in Barry’s direction, “I can’t help you. I can’t pull you out of this if you don’t want to get out.”

You know you can’t fix this for him. He has to make the choice. His eyes dart toward Barry for a second, and Barry just shrugs, clearly not giving a damn about anything but his next hit. 

“I love you, but I can’t watch you destroy yourself.”

For a second, you think maybe you’ve gotten through to him, because his eyes soften behind all that darkness. But then he shakes his head again, looking at the floor like he’s already made his decision.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he mutters, barely audible. “But I don’t know how to stop.”

Your heart breaks a little more at that. “Yes you do, baby. You do. You just need to believe it.”

If he doesn’t come with you, you’re not sure where this ends for him. He’s stuck, frozen in place, trapped by whatever’s going on in his head, and you realize that no matter how much you love him, no matter how much you want to save him, you can’t force him to choose you. You can’t make him get in the car.

“You have to decide,” you say quietly, voice breaking. “Me or this. You can’t have both.”

Rafe looks up at you, eyes glossy, and for a second, you think he might actually say something — something that will make this all okay, something that will bring him back to you. But he doesn’t. He just stands there, torn apart by his demons, his lips pressed into a line. You feel the pit in your stomach grow deeper.

“Okay,” you nod, barely holding back tears. “I guess that’s my answer.”

You turn and walk out the door, your heart shattering with every inch of distance you put between you and him. You don't look back, because if you do, you know you’ll drag him out yourself, and you can’t do that. Not now. But as you get into your car and grip the steering wheel with your entire strength, the sobs come anyway.

You don’t want to leave him. God, you don’t want to. But he didn’t choose you. Not this time.

Rafe doesn’t even register the sound of the door slamming behind you. It’s like he’s watching everything happen from somewhere far away, his body numb, his mind completely blank. You said something, you were upset—he knows that much—but the words never really hit him. They just floated around. He sinks back down into the chair, staring at the floor, heart racing but completely detached. The room is spinning a little, his chest tight, but he can’t feel anything. Can’t let himself feel anything. It’s better this way. Safer.

You left.

He knows that happened, but it doesn’t mean anything right now. He can’t process it. Not in this state. Not when the drugs are still in his system, making everything feel like it’s underwater. He blinks a few times, trying to get his brain to catch up, but it’s not working. It’s just static.

Barry’s voice is somewhere in the background, laughing about something, but he doesn’t hear him either. It’s like the world’s on mute. His body’s still buzzing from the high, fingers twitching, muscles tense, but inside? Inside he’s empty.

Hours pass, maybe. Time doesn’t exist here, not when he’s this far gone. The light changes through the window, but it could be minutes or days for all he knows. He drifts in and out, his head heavy, eyes closing, but sleep never comes. Just darkness. Maybe he did too many lines.

At some point, he wakes up—if you can call it that. His body feels like it weights two hundred pounds, his head is spinning, his mouth dry and sour. He blinks against the light, his vision blurry, trying to figure out where the hell he is. 

It takes a second for everything to catch up. To realize he’s at Barry’s.

And then, it hits him all at once. You.

You were here. You were mad. And then you were gone.

His chest tightens, a sick, sinking feeling crawling up his throat. He sits up too fast, his head swimming. Fuck.He rubs his hands over his face, trying to calm his breathing. His thoughts are still sluggish. You left. You walked out, and he… he didn’t stop you. Didn’t even try.

Why didn’t he stop you?

Before he can think too much about it, Barry saunters in, a smug grin on his face, holding a beer in one hand, a joint in the other. He takes one look at Rafe, slouched and disoriented, and lets out a low, mocking laugh.

“Well, well, well,” Barry drawls, leaning against the doorframe, clearly enjoying every second of this. “Look who’s finally awake. You done fucked it up, Country Club.”

Rafe doesn’t say anything. Can’t.

Barry raises an eyebrow, taking a drag from the joint, shaking his head. “Damn, man. Thought you were smarter than that.”

Rafe just stares at the floor, his stomach twisting. He can’t remember exactly what he said to you. But the look on your face… he can’t forget that. The disappointment. The hurt.

Barry chuckles, settling down on the couch across from him. “What was it? You running your mouth again, or did she just get tired of you being a fuckup?”

The shame is settling in now, creeping up his spine. He doesn’t want to hear this. Doesn’t want to hear anything. But Barry just keeps going, like he’s enjoying watching him fall apart.

“Should’ve seen it coming, man,” Barry continues, “Girl like that? She was bound to leave eventually.”

If he felt strong enough he would’ve punched that joint out of his mouth, his teeth following next. Who the fuck did he think he was to talk about you like he knew you.

He knows Barry’s just trying to get under his skin, but it’s working. He feels sick. He presses his hands against his eyes, trying to push it all away, but it’s no use.

“You done fucked it up, Country Club,” Barry repeats, leaning back with a satisfied smirk. “And now you’re right back here. Same old Rafe.”

Same old Rafe. He told himself he’d never end up here again. He swore he was done with this. Done with Barry, done with the drugs, done with the guy he used to be.

But now? Now he’s right back where he started. And the worst part? He let you see it. He doesn’t know how to fix this. Doesn’t know if he even can fix this. But the one thing he does know? He should’ve crawled after you.

Rafe doesn’t say a word.

He doesn’t need to. His hands are already moving, reaching for the small bag of coke on the table. His fingers tremble as they close around it, the weight of the plastic barely registering in his hand. 

Barry watches him, that same smug grin never leaving his face, taking another drag of his joint, exhaling a cloud of smoke with a low chuckle. He’s not surprised. Not at all.

"Of course," Barry mutters, shaking his head in amusement. “Of course, you're takin’ that shit with you.”

Rafe’s jaw clenches, but he doesn’t fight him. He can feel Barry’s eyes on him, feel the judgment radiating off him, but he can’t bring himself to care. Not anymore. 

Not after everything he’s already fucked up. He stuffs the bag in his jacket pocket, standing up on shaky legs, the room still spinning a little as he stumbles toward the door. His mind is on autopilot, moving without him, as if the drugs are the only thing holding him together. 

"Attaboy, Country Club," Barry calls after him, voice dripping with condescension, laughter bubbling up from deep in his chest. “Just keep runnin’. That’s what you’re good at, right?”

Rafe’s hand tightens on the doorknob, his teeth grinding together, but he doesn’t turn back. He can’t look at Barry—he can’t look at any of this—so he does what he always does.

He walks away. He doesn’t think. He just keeps moving, out of the door, out into the night, the bag burning a hole in his pocket.

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It’s been two weeks since you last saw him.

Two weeks of silence, of unanswered calls and texts that sit there on your screen and make you cry every time you look at them. You told him you’d leave, but you didn’t mean it. You never meant it.

You just needed him to fight. For himself. But he didn’t.

And now, you can’t stop thinking about him. It physically hurts.

Every morning you wake up with this heavy impossible ache in your chest, and it only gets worse as the day goes on. You keep wondering where he is, if he’s okay, if he’s even thinking about you or if he’s too far gone to care.

You miss him. God, you miss him.

Now you don’t even know where he is. If he’s still spiraling or if he’s hit rock bottom.

You’ve barely been able to keep it together at work. Every time you try to focus, that image of Rafe in his absolute worst slips in, and you never get anything done. You’ve called in sick twice, just to stay in bed and cry, because you can barely breathe.

You’ve reached out to Sarah a few times, trying to understand what’s going on, but she doesn’t know much either. "He’s off the grid," she’d told you last time, "Doesn’t want to talk to anyone."

That was a week ago.

And now you’re sitting on the edge of your bed, staring at your phone, debating if you should try one more time. One more call. One more text.

Because this can’t possibly end this way. 

He’s the love of your life. 

Sarah’s name flashes on the screen, and you nearly drop the damn thing. “Sarah?”

“Hey,” You can hear it immediately—something’s wrong. “Are you home right now?”

Your stomach drops, “Yeah. Why? What’s going on?”

You can hear her take a shaky breath. “It’s Rafe. He’s, shit, it’s bad. Like, really bad.”

 “What do you mean, bad? Sarah, what happened?”

“Dad’s trying to get his doctor on the line,” she says, her voice cracking. “Just in case he ODs.”

Your blood turns ice cold.

“He’s not picking up,” she continues, her words spilling out in a rush, like she’s trying to keep herself from breaking down. “Dad’s freaking out, and Rafe—he’s not making sense. He’s been on a bender for days, and now he’s just... he’s not there. I don’t know what to do. I thought maybe you could—”

“I’m coming,” you say, cutting her off, already standing, your body moving on autopilot.

You hang up before she can say anything else, grabbing your keys and rushing out the door. The drive to Tannyhill  feels like it takes forever as your mind comes up with worst-case scenarios. You’ve seen Rafe struggle before—you’ve seen the dark places he’s been—but if Sarah’s calling you, if Ward’s getting a doctor involved….

You barely notice you’ve already parked the car, barely notice the front door swinging open as you run inside. The house is quiet, too quiet.

Sarah’s standing by the staircase, her eyes red and puffy. She doesn’t say anything, just nods toward the living room.

And that’s when you see him.

He’s slumped on the couch, his body limp, his eyes half-open but glazed over, like he’s not even seeing what’s in front of him. His skin is pale, clammy, his hands twitching every few seconds, and there’s a sheen of sweat on his forehead. He looks like half a version of himself, his breathing shallow and uneven.

Ward’s pacing the room, his phone pressed to his ear. “I don’t care if he’s busy, get him here now. He’s going to fucking die.”

“Rafe?” you call, stepping toward him. But he doesn’t react. Doesn’t even flinch. He just stares ahead, eyes unfocused, like he’s not even aware you’re there.

Sarah’s standing behind you now, her voice low, “He won’t talk to us. He’s too far gone.”

You sink down beside him, your heart breaking at the sight of him like this. You reach out, hesitating for a second before gently placing your hand on his arm.

“Rafe,” your voice wavers. “Baby, it’s me. Please… please talk to me.”

But there’s nothing. Just silence.

His head lolls to the side, and his eyes meet yours—but it’s like looking at a ghost. The person you know, the person you love, isn’t there. Not right now. Not in this moment. And it kills you.

You keep whispering his name, pleading for him to wake up, to do something, but nothing works.

Ward's still on the phone, pacing like a caged animal, his voice a angry hum in the background. His eyes flick over to you every few minutes, but he doesn’t say anything. Sarah’s standing off to the side, her arms wrapped around herself, her eyes red and puffy from crying. You can see how scared she is, and you’re glad they got Weezie out of the house before she could see this. 

After what feels like an eternity, the front door bursts open, and a doctor rushes in, followed by a paramedic with a bag of medical equipment. The doctor, some guy Ward must have on speed dial for situations like this, doesn’t waste any time. He kneels down beside Rafe, checking his pulse, his pupils, his breathing.

“This is bad,” the doctor mutters, shaking his head. “He’s lucky he’s still breathing.”

Lucky. 

The paramedic moves in, setting up an oxygen mask, checking Rafe’s vitals, and it feels like the room is spinning. You try to stay calm, try to keep your hand on Rafe.

Ward finally hangs up the phone and stands there, watching as the doctor works. “Is he gonna be okay?” he asks, his voice strained because god forbid he shows more emotion.

The doctor glances up, his expression grim. “We need to take him in. I’m stabilizing him, but if this had gone on any longer, we’d be having a different conversation right now.”

You feel like you're going to be sick.

The paramedic starts prepping him for transport, and you stand there, helpless, watching as they move him onto a stretcher. His body looks so limp, so fragile. They’re talking about taking him to the hospital for observation, but all you can hear is the blood pounding in your ears.

Ward steps forward, he watches his son being carried away. For the first time, you see it—real fear in his eyes. 

“I should’ve seen this coming,” Ward says, his voice shaking. “I should’ve stopped it. This is my fault.”

You feel something snap inside of you.  “I’m sure it fucking is.”

He doesn’t say anything. He just stands there like a fucking idiot. Sarah is beside you now, her hand on your arm, gently pulling you back. “Let’s go,” she mutters,“We should go with him.”

You nod, swallowing as you follow her out of the house, leaving Ward standing there alone.

You climb into your car, Sarah beside you, and you both sit there for a moment in silence, watching as the ambulance pulls away, taking Rafe with it.

“I’m scared,” Sarah admits. 

You close your eyes, and nod. “So am I.”

You have to remind yourself to breathe. She sits beside you, staring straight ahead and neither of you says another word.

The hospital is quiet when you arrive, eerily so. You both rush in, Sarah at your side, searching for the emergency room and after a bunch of paperwork and hurried conversations, you’re finally led to the waiting room. The doctor said they’d keep you updated, and you sit down on those stiff, uncomfortable chairs, the waiting begins.

Minutes drag by like hours. You try to text or scroll through your phone, anything to distract yourself, but you can’t focus. Every time you close your eyes, all you can see is Rafe. It’s like your brain is stuck on replay, and you can’t shut it off. Sarah’s over there biting her lip until it’s bleeding. Every now and then, she looks at you, like she’s about to say something, but then she doesn’t. And you don’t either. You can’t. What the hell would you even say? It feels like you’re both waiting for the worst possible news and just pretending you’re not.

After what feels like forever, the doctor finally comes through the doors, and Sarah and you jump up at the same time. 

The doctor sighs, and he looks tired, like this isn’t the first time he’s delivered news like this today.

“We stabilized him,” he says, “He was really close to an overdose, but we got to him in time. He’s still unconscious, but his vitals are stable for now. We’ll keep him under observation for at least 24 hours.”

You finally take a deep breath, but it’s shaky, and it doesn’t feel real. 

Sarah doesn’t even hesitate. The second the doctor says Rafe’s stable, she’s heading towards his room, like she needs to see him, to make sure for herself that he’s really still here. You don’t follow her, though. Your legs feel like they’re made of concrete, if you move, you’ll just collapse right there in the hallway.

As much as you want to be with him, to hold his hand or just… see him breathing, you know you can’t handle it. Not right now. You’ve spent the last two weeks trying to hold it together, and this is the first time you feel like you can finally breathe. Like you’re not suffocating with worry.

What you need more than anything is to get out of here. To just breathe, to close your eyes for more than a minute without the image of him passed out, strung out, burned into your brain. You need sleep. You need to feel something other than panic. He’s gonna be okay. Maybe not perfect, maybe not healed, but for now, he’s alive. 

The next day, you finally gather the courage to see him. You feel like you might throw up at any second. You stop outside his room, staring at the door for what feels like forever, trying to convince yourself to go inside.

He’s lying in bed, looking like he barely walked out of this one alive, but he’s awake. His eyes meet yours the second you step inside, and you feel like you’re going to start crying at any given second. 

“Hey,” You manage to say, You don’t trust your voice to be strong enough to say something more.

Rafe blinks, like he’s surprised to see you. His voice is rough when he speaks, cracked from everything his body’s been through. “You came.”

“Of course I did,” He’s genuinely shocked. As if he thought you’d just walk away from all of this. From him. You swallow hard, taking a step closer to the bed. “Of course I came, Rafe.” Your voice is soft, barely holding together. “Where else would I be?”

He doesn’t answer. His eyes flicker away from yours, settling on the IV in his arm, like he can’t stand to look at you. 

“Sarah called me. She was scared. She didn’t know what to do.”

Rafe’s jaw tightens, but he still won’t meet your eyes. “She shouldn’t have,” he mutters, his voice hoarse, barely there.

“She shouldn’t have had to, Rafe. You scared the shit out of her—out of everyone. And I’ve been sitting here for two weeks, waiting for you to say something, anything, and you just—” You stop yourself, your throat closing up, and you bite your lip to keep from crying. “You almost died.”

You can see his chest rising and falling slowly, and for a split second, you think he’s not going to answer at all. That he’s just going to keep shutting you out. 

“I didn’t want you to see me like this,” he says quietly. “I didn’t want you to see how fucked up I am.”

Your heart breaks all over again because you’ve already seen it. You’ve seen every part of him—the good, the bad, the absolute worst. And you’re still here. You’re still standing in this stupid hospital room because you love him. He shakes his head, his hands gripping the edge of the blanket like he’s trying to hold himself together.

“I don’t deserve you.”

You step closer to the bed, sitting down carefully on the edge, and for the first time in weeks, you feel like you can breathe. Just a little bit.

“Don’t say that,” you reach for his hand. He flinches at first but doesn’t pull away when you lace your fingers with his. “You’re gonna be okay. We’ll get through this. But you can’t keep pushing me away. I need you to let me help you.”

He closes his eyes, his face twisting in pain, “Ward wanted us to meet mom and I just—”

You’ve never fully understood what his mom meant to him, or maybe what losing her did to him, now you do. That deep-rooted pain that always seems to haunt him when he talks about her is stronger than you’ve ever seen before. 

“I didn’t want you to see this mess. I don’t want anyone to. I’m a fucking disaster. Every time I try to fix something, I just make it worse. I just—” He breaks off, his jaw clenching like he’s trying to swallow down the rest of his words, the ones he can’t say out loud.

“You spent years sober, that’s not easy,” You scoot closer, wrapping your arms around him carefully, not caring if he feels like a mess or if you’re being too much. You just want him to feel like he’s not alone. “Baby, I know you’re hurting,” you murmur into his shoulder, “But I’m not going anywhere.”

“You should,” He confesses, “I hurt you.”

“You have,” you admit, “But that doesn’t mean I’m leaving. I’m not gonna give up on you.”

He looks away, like he doesn’t believe you, like he’s waiting for you to just walk out of that hospital room and never look back. But you don’t.

You tighten your grip on his hand, "You don’t get to decide that for me.  I’m still here because I love you. Even when you push me away.”

“You shouldn’t love me,” he whispers, like it’s some kind of fact, like it’s already been decided.

You shake your head, leaning in closer, your hand resting on his cheek. “But I do, Rafe. I always will. Even when you don’t think you deserve it, we’ll figure it out, together, okay? One step at a time.”

He nods, barely, but it's something. It’s a start.

[spiderbeam]

Here's a concept: I've been stuck on the idea of a dork reader who develops a small crush on Franco and works on her Spanish to impress talk to him but her pronunciation makes what she says borderline offensive/obscene and she knows it as she says it and starts apologizing and it's super awkward and embarrassing for her but I see Franco as being charmed that she put in the effort?

ohh i actually had to think about this one (and it got a little away from me) but. i can see this as either an mechanic!reader or engineer!reader from williams.

you’ve recently befriended franco. and in your opinion, he makes it too easy. i mean—it’s not many drivers that go out of their way to greet everyone in the team every weekend without fail once they arrive on the paddock. but franco does. and he’s been doing so well, and you can’t help the fondness you’re starting to harbor for him. it’s his smile—you’re sure of it. but it’s also his determination to make the best of the few races he has, it’s how utterly drained he looks after every race but smiles and jokes anyway—how hard he is on himself when he doesn’t perform as he wishes. and you’re always having to remind him that he’s been doing this for three races. you find it you enjoy his company a lot more than you should.

you’ve been working on a little side-project during your free time.

now, you know you’re not gonna be able to learn an entire language in the span of eight races. and spanish is hard. but you’re determined to try your best to learn a few phrases.

buena suerte. good luck. lo haras increíble. you’ll do great. vas con todo. give it your all. but even then, they feel impersonal. so, you move away from standard phrases and try to learn one for him.

you find your moment after free practice, sitting inside franco’s driver room as you sit besides him. he’s tired, but with an excited energy he can’t seem to shed. your thigh is nudging against his, his hand inching closer to yours, and you decide to do it now before you chicken out.

you meet his gaze with an encouraging smile on your lips. “estoy muy orgullosa de como cogiste el auto.”

and franco is drinking from his water bottle as he faces you, and you can see the moment he stops, and coughs—and continues coughing. you stare at him in bewilderment.

his voice is scratchy and hoarse when he says, “¿cómo? yo no—what?” he coughs again, and there’s a red blush on his cheeks that wasn’t there before.

“what?” you blink, embarrassment lodging itself inside your throat. “i just, i’m proud of you—of how quickly you got the hang of the car.” you can feel heat spreading across your cheeks as you start rambling. “i know it’s been a really tough transition, and you’ve been doing so well and—” you swallow sharply, clamping down your jaw to prevent yourself from digging yourself an even deeper hole.

franco blinks at you. “oh.” a laugh escapes him, a smile pulling at his lips as humiliation blooms in your chest. “oh, corazona,” franco coos, tilting his head with a look that makes your heart skip a beat. there’s a glint in his eyes you can’t seem to place. “since when have you been learning spanish?”

“not that long…” you look away from him, fidgeting with your fingers. “i just wanted to, y’know, congratulate you like you deserve.”

franco clicks his tongue, resting his forehead against your shoulder. “that’s really sweet,” he says softly, “and it means a lot. but i think you’ve been learning spain spanish.”

you blink, turning your head slightly. he rests his chin on your shoulder to meet your gaze. “um… i think so? i didn’t think it would make much of a difference.”

“it does.” franco chuckles again. “cause in spain, coger means to grab, but in argentina…” his tongue swipes along his canines, lips twitching upward into an amused smirk. “…coger means to fuck. and i think i’d remember if i’d had sex with a car.”

“oh my god.” mortification must be too evident in your face, because this time, franco laughs louder than before. it’s a laugh that rattles his chest, that makes his body vibrate against yours.

“don’t worry,” he says after a beat. he leans closer to you, his lips brushing against your ear. “it’s cute.”

a/n: ohhhh this one definitely got away from me. idk if i should even count this as a ramble cause it could be a drabble 😭 franco is my achilles heel i’m sorry

send me concepts ✉️

[lyinginmeadow]

Shadows will guide you home | Azriel × reader

Summary: Some fae don't like the idea of the Archerons turning into high fae and reader being one in unfamiliar city makes a perfect opportunity for an intervention Warnings: acotar related violence, not super descriptive, language, slight angst Word count: 1.4k a/n: Hii, this is my very first fanfic, please remember to be kind. <3 Also English is not my first language so it may be a bit rough.

Being another Archeron sister was quite exhausting. The constant comparison between you ever since you were born created a dark place deep within you. After years of being poor, starved, and uneducated, the family regained their riches back thanks to Feyre. The cost left you empty, breaking your heart into a million pieces. You wanted your sister back more than anything, you would return your newfound lifestyle to have her with you again. Taking lessons together, sharing laughs, and pretending as if everything is normal. As if she never left and their father hadn't left them to starvation.

Instead, the Gods were laughing in your face as you with two of your sisters were changed and thrown into the world of high fae. While you got your sister back, there were matters to be taken care of. Leaving you alone in a city and with species foreign to you. You had met the inner circle while you were still human. They were nothing but kind to you then, but you assumed that was because you were Feyre's sister. Now they haven't paid you much mind because their hands were either full with court business you didn't understand or your sisters. You were left scarred inside while pretending it hadn't affected you as much.

''Are you listening?'' Asked a pretty blonde in a red dress, Mor. ''I'm sorry, I just spaced out a little. What were you saying?'' You smiled, red creeping up your cheeks. ''You are free to explore the city, you don't have to feel caged inside.'' She returned your smile. ''Oh, I don't feel like that. I...I guess it's kind of strange to be here. Is there an apothecary around here?''

''Yes, it's in the square just next to the bridge you can’t miss it,'' Mor replied. ''I must go, but I will see you during dinnertime.'' She smiled for the last time as she disappeared into thin air. She came by just to invite you as per Feyre's request. Your sister knew you were too polite to decline any offer and without it you would probably not show up.

''Right.'' You mumbled under your breath as you looked out of the window. In the reflection, you caught the sigh of a shadow. You whipped around to see nothing. Signing, you turned to the window again thinking about certain Illyrian familiar with shadows. When you first met him, he was like a rock that you could lean onto while the queens invaded your home. You talked, feeling an instant connection and thought he felt the same. You didn't remember what happened during the changing process, your brain blocked the memory altogether. But after waking up in Velaris, he didn't seem to notice you, rather seeking the company of your older twin sister.

You knew it wasn't rational to feel hurt by this, but that didn't stop your heart from throbbing. Exhaling a deep breath you went to explore the city as Mor suggested, feeling sick of your little pity party.

After hours spent in the city, it was starting to get dark. Nights here were magical, but your fear of them only amplified during years spent in the dark streets trying to provide for your family by any means necessary, so you tried to hurry back to the house. Taking a turn into an ally wasn't a choice you wanted to make, but panic started to take over every action your body made. Looking around you knew you were lost and didn't know where to go next.

''Looking for something?'' You whipped around with shock in your eyes. ''No, but thank you. My partner is just around the corner.'' You smiled politely your instincts kicking in as you lied smoothly. A shadow caressed your skin as if to soothe your worries and disappeared. You didn't have time to think about it more as the man standing in front of you stepped closer. ''Are you sure? We could help you, Y/N.'' Another dark figure from behind you said so near you could feel his breath on your neck. ''I don't know who you think I am, but that is not my name. And I do not need help from strangers. So let me pass.'' You tried to will your voice not to tremble, but it was of no use. You were starting to give in to the panic rising within you. ''And we don't need humans becoming high fae and highjacking our court. But here you are.'' Said a male in front of you while pulling out a knife. “This will send the message." Continued another one next to what you pressumed was the leader. One againts three were not the odds you prefered.

You had no idea how they found out your name or how they knew of your fate of becoming fae. "Feeling threatened by a female?" You knew getting a rise out of them was not the smartest idea. But maybe it could gain you valuable time for someone, anyone to notice. Velaris was supposed to be peaceful after all.

"You think you're funny, huh? We'll see if you'll find the knife just as entertaining." The male behind you pulled your hair harshly earning a scream from you. You didn't understand how they could blame you for something you had no control over. “Watch the alley, will you?” The male infront of you ordered the one standing next to him as he lifted his hand to your face. The knife danced lightly on your cheek leaving you defenseless. "Just so you know, maiming your face will be a pleasure." He whispered to your ear as he increased the pressure on the knife drawing blood.

The whole alley turned pitch black. You had fae senses, but the dark was completely impenetrable yet familiar. You could only feel your hair being released, knife falling to the pavement, followed by screams and scratches on the stone. You were paralyzed, terrified, and unable to move. The dark had you in its claws and you could feel your breath getting more and more quick. ''How dare you hurt her ?'' A deep familiar voice took you out of your panic. There was no answer to his question. Only whimpers.

The shadows slowly dissolved letting in light from the main streets. There was no one here anymore. Only blood and scratches deep in the stone indicated a struggle.

Azriel appeared in front of you his hands gently grazing your untouched cheek. ''Don't look at it.'' His voice hoarse. You inhaled his scent making you instantly relaxed. ''Are you hurt?'' He asked worry lacing his voice. You gave him a shake of a head not trusting your voice. ''Lies. Shaken. Blood.'' Hissed hushed voice, startling you. ''I am not lying. I am just fine.'' You pushed Azriel away looking around for the source. ''You can hear them?'' Azriel frowned examining you.

''Look, I am sorry you had to bother with this. I know there are a lot of things to be done and I should have known how to protect myself-'' He stopped you from rambling with a thumb to your lips. His previous question forgotten. ''No one has a right to assault you. It is not your fault. Velaris is supposed to be safe. I promise that no one will harm you ever again.'' He left you completely stunned. ''Now, could you please show me where they hurt you, so we can heal it?'' Azriel asked slowly removing his thumb from your lips. Leaving you wishing it could stay there for a bit longer. You pushed back the hair that was covering your healing cheek. ''It's already healing. My abilities do come with very fast healing. As long as I don't use my powers much. I am just a bit shocked, that's all.'' You admitted looking to the stone path. ''Let's get you home then." He offered his hand which you gladly took your heart threatening to jump out of your chest.

''Look, Nesta started training with Cass and a few priestesses joined her. It is a way for them to regain their power and help them with their struggles. I was thinking that maybe it could be something you would give a try?'' Azriel asked as he led you through the house to your bedroom. ''Oh...I think I would like that.'' You smiled. Silence enveloping you again.

''Thank you, Az. For today and the offer.'' You looked down standing infront of the door to your bedroom. ''There is no need to thank me. But you should get some sleep.'' He looked at your door and then down the hallway. ''I will be right next to your room if you need anything. So please, let me know.'' He gave you a look of urgency and you gave him a nod even if you knew you would not. He probably knew it, too. ''Goodnight.''

"Goodnight."

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Just Friends: Sleepover

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Bucky Barnes

masterlist

Summary: Bucky sleeps over.

It’s giving

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

“Should be good as new,” Bucky sits back on the footstool and rubs his neck. “Don’t know about me, though.” 

You lean on the counter with a sheepish smile, “I told you, I’d call the landlord.” 

“Uh huh? And try to light this thing in the meantime? You’d set yourself on fire,” he closes the over door and stands. “I like you unsinged, dreamy.” 

“I have a microwave,” you roll your eyes. 

“Oh, you mean the one that sparks and sounds like military tank?” He challenges as he packs up his toolbox. 

“It makes the food hot,” you rebuff. 

“Uh huh. Maybe the radiation is getting to ya,” he teases as he puts the box on the counter. 

He stretches his arms and as he brings them down, he yawns, covering his mouth. He turns his other wrist to check the time. 

“God, it’s late,” he says. 

“Is it--” you choke on your words as you see the time on the stove. “Oh gosh, Buckyyy.” You whine. “You shouldn’t have stayed so long.” 

“And let you burn this place down? You’re going to give me flashbacks. God, I think it was... 1938. Steve was living with his ma still, taking care of her, and he left some newspapers by the stove...” 

“1938...” you echo. “Right, I’m not going to say it.” 

“You better not,” he pokes you in the ribs playfully. “Well, I guess I shouldn’t waste any more of your time. You know, I’ll be just fine walking through the dark. I might get overtime pay if I can wrangle in some hoodlums--” 

“Oh, stop,” you huff, “I’ll get you a blanket and a pillow. I know the couch is a bit small.” 

“Ah, doll, you don’t gotta--” 

“God, you sound like such an old man. ‘Doll, you want a lozenge?’” You mock as you throw your hands up. “Can’t anyone do something nice for you?” 

“What? What do you mean? I’m joshing ya,” he follows you as you spin and march out of the kitchen. 

“Sure, I know. Always a joke with you.” 

“What is this about? The date?” He asks. 

“Well... I thought you’d be more excited,” you shrug. “I was really excited for you. Now I feel like I’m forcing you.” 

“You kinda are,” he leans again the wall as you open the closet, the door blocking him from your view. 

“Forcing you to go out with a sophisticated, gorgeous, woman? I know, it’s torture.” 

“Trust me, I know what torture is. It’s not a joke,” he crosses his arms. You blanch. 

“I-- sorry, I didn’t mean--” you stutter as you kick the door shut. 

He laughs, “got ya again.” He taps the end of your nose then takes the blanket from you. “Relax, I said yes. I’ll put on a tie and comb my hair. Look human.” 

“Awesome,” you smile and he squints. 

“Mm, and you always do that,” he accuses. “Those puppy dog eyes.” 

“I’m more of a cat person,” you giggle. “There’s a pillow on the back of the couch and—oh, want a hot chocolate. I usually have one before bed.” 

“Hot chocolate?” He repeats as he goes to the couch and drops the blanket on top. 

“Sure! I got the oreo stuff.” 

“Nah, I’m good,” he sits and rolls his shoulder. 

“Well, you snooze, you lose. More for me,” you tilt your head and skip back into the kitchen. You flip the kettle on and sweep back into the living room. 

“What about you?” Bucky asks before you can leave him. “You still coming? You find someone?” 

“Oh, I’ll be there but I’m still looking for a date,” you say. “Don’t worry, I got a few ideas.” 

“Right, lined up the block, huh?” 

You stick your tongue out and flit into the bedroom, “whatever.” 

You close the door behind you and change into your pajamas. The fluffy pink shorts go perfectly with the tee with the bunny on the front. You step into your slippers and go back out. 

As you come out, Bucky pushes his hair back and groans. He has his shirt off as he sits back and pushes his arms wide. He cracks his neck again as your eyes meet. 

“Last call for hot chocolate?” You offer. 

“No thanks,” he says as he leans forward. 

You smile and scurry into the kitchen. The tension rises with the steam of the kettle. You weren’t expecting to see him like that. Well, it’s just his chest and his abs. Abs? He has abs. Holy moly.  

You look down and poke your pudge. Maybe he can give you some tips. You peel back the lid from the canister of chocolate powder; a start would be cutting down on the sweets. 

The hardwood shifts and his footsteps circles around to the kitchen door. You glance over as you spoon the mix into a mug. You put the lid back on and shove the can back into the cupboard. 

“Water?” He asks. 

“Sure, fridge,” you point. 

The kettle clicks and you take it of its heater. You pour and glance over as Bucky pulls open the fridge. He bends to search the mostly bare shelves. You’re overdue for a shop. 

“The jug should be--” the water laps over the side of the mug and hits your fingers. “Ow! Ayeee!” 

You slam the kettle down and shake your hand. Bucky’s so fast, you squeal as he grabs you and spins you to face the sink. He flips the cold water on and shoves your hand under the flow. You whine again at the frigid splash. 

“Ah, Bucky, I’m fine. It’s just a little water,” you tug but he keeps a hold of you. 

“I told you to be careful,” he huffs. “You should pay attention.” 

“I was trying to help,” you say. 

“And I’m tryna help you stay outta trouble,” he reproaches. 

“I’m okay. Really, it’s nothing.” You shut off the tap and wriggle free of his grasp. “See?” 

The burn stings but it’s nothing you can’t handle. You’re more affected by his suddenness. You can feel his hard strength throbbing in your wrist. If he didn’t want to let go, he wouldn’t have to. That thought needles behind your ears. 

He drops his shoulders, “sorry, dream. Really. I was just... you scared me, you know? I hear ya make those noises and I get a bit... uptight.” 

You exhale and give a small smile, “no, I... appreciate it. I mean, you can’t turn hero mode off, can ya?” 

He chuckles and the air thins, “yeah. Guess that’s what you can call it.” 

[willow-moon-23]

Black Cat and Her German Shepherd

Aaron Hotchner X Fem!Reader

Summary: The tables have turned and now it's time for her team to meet her spouse.

Part 1

Word Count: 2437

Standing in the kitchen, her hands braced on the counter. She takes a long slow breath. Hotch walks up behind her.

“Are you feeling ok, colonel?” He wraps his arms around her from behind.

She glances back at him. “Fine. Just thinking.”

Hotch studies her for a moment longer. “Are you worried about me meeting your team?”

(Y/N) lets out a sigh. “No.” Her answer was flat, but Hotch could tell she was fighting a lot of thoughts in her head as she glares at the cleaned dishes on the counter.

“Then what is it?” He asks patiently.

She pushes off the counter, pushing Hotch a step away as well. “My team,” She starts slowly as she turns to face him. “I’ve told you the stories. They are a motley crew of hardened soldiers. They hardly have a filter when talking to higher ups and even less of one when talking to each other.”

“I’m aware.” He nods, letting her talk through her thoughts.

“They’re good men. I trust them with my life.” She speaks slowly.

Hotch brushes her hair from her face. "But?"

(Y/N) hesitates for a moment. “I don’t know. I can’t figure out why I’m hesitating like this.” She runs a hand through her hair and looks up at her husband. “You’ve met the captain before. Only because I got hurt, but you’ve still met him and he likes you. He always asks about you when I come back from leave.”

He nods along. “He gave me his number in case anything were to happen to you.”

“Yes. He’s a good man.” She agrees with him and begins pacing. “I know they won't judge us for any reason. They might make jokes if they are comfortable enough.”

Hotch walks up to her again and holds her shoulders, effectively stopping her pacing. “You’re overthinking it. Take a breath, colonel. I’ve never seen you this worked up. Not even when you’re being deployed.”

She does as he says and takes a slow breath. “This feels more nerve-wracking than a month-long mission and I can’t figure out why.”

“Maybe there is no ‘why’.” He rubs her arms gently. “Maybe you want to be sure that both your lives can coexist and not clash. There's no harm in wanting things to go well.”

(Y/N) looks up at the ceiling. “Maybe you’re right.” She drops her head to rest against Hotch’s chest. She slowly wraps her arms around him. “Stop reading me.”

Hotch chuckles. “I didn’t have to profile you to know all of that.”

She hums. After a moment, she pushes back. “Cap and Gaz said they would be here in ten. Johnny said he’d catch a ride with Ghost. Meaning they would be late because of him.”

“Do we have everything ready for them?” Hotch’s hands rub her back idly. He glanced around the kitchen, seeing all food was ready.

“Yeah, I just need to set the table and change.” She tilts her head as she thinks.

Hotch looks her up and down. “What’s wrong with what you’re wearing?”

“I’m in workout clothes.” Her tone was flat. She looks down at her sports bra and leggings with a raised eyebrow.

“I think you look great.” He winks.

(Y/N) rolls her eyes. “You’re awful. I’m going to change.” She turns away from him and walks to their room. Hotch chuckles as he watches her leave the kitchen.

Once the door closes behind her, he begins taking out the silverware and glasses to set the table for her. He sets it identically to when she had made dinner for his team about a month ago. He walks around the kitchen one last time making sure everything that needs to be turned off is before walking to their room. He knocks twice before entering. Hotch smiles and walks up behind (Y/N).

“I like this shirt.” He comments, leaning down to kiss her cheek.

(Y/N) closes her eyes and hums. “You should. You bought it for me.”

“Yes, I did.” His voice was smug. Before he could compliment her again their doorbell rings.

(Y/N) chuffs. “Saved by the bell. Take a second before you come out, yeah.” She pats his chest affectionately before walking out and closing the door behind her. She smirks as she hears Hotch groan behind the door. She takes a deep breath before opening the front door. She is greeted by her captain and one of her sergeants. “Evening boys.”

“Good to see you, colonel.” Price steps forward and envelopes her in a warm hug as she lets them into her home.

She accepts his hug and turns to Gaz. “How was the flight over?”

“Not too bad. Cap slept the whole way here.” Gaz laughs and offers her his own hug.

(Y/N) shakes her head and hugs him. “No surprise there.” She hears her bedroom door open behind her and pulls back. “Boys, my husband, Aaron Hotchner.” She steps to the side as Hotch enters the space next to her.

Price was the first to extend a hand. “Good to see you again, agent.”

“Likewise, captain.” Hotch shakes his hand, with a nod.

(Y/N) motions toward Gaz. “This is Sergeant Kyle Garrick, or Gaz, as we all call him.”

“I thought he’d be taller.” Gaz stage whispers to (Y/N) before extending his hand.

(Y/N) rolls her eyes. “I told you he’s barely taller than you.”

Hotch takes Gaz’s hand with a chuckle noticing his wife's banter with the sergeant. “A pleasure to meet you, sergeant Garrick.”

“Gaz is fine.” The sergeant gently corrects him. Hotch nods mentally takes a note.

A loud knock at the front door had (Y/N) turning to open it. ”And there are the last two.”

The four are met with Johnny’s grinning face the second the colonel opens the door. He immediately pushes into her house, hugging her tightly. “Bonnie, it’s been too long.” He squeezes her as if he hasn’t seen her in over a year.

“It’s been three days, Johnny.” (Y/N) pushes the Scott off with a raised eyebrow.

“Three days is three too long.” He practically whines at her. Gaz and Price chuckle behind them.

“He’s been whining the whole way here.” Ghost steps into the house and closes the door behind him. The tall Lieutenant towered over all five of them in his black hoodie and face mask.

The colonel chuffs. “No surprise there.” She turns to her husband. “This-”

“John McTavish, they call me Soap.” Johnny interrupts her with a grin and eagerly shakes Hotch's hand.

“Is our other Sergeant.” (Y/N) sighs. “And this is Lieutenant Riley. He prefers Ghost. Boys, this is my husband, Aaron Hotchner.”

“Federal Agent.” Ghost looks him up and down.

“Unit Chief.” Hotch nods, taking Ghost's hand.

Ghost hums and turns to (Y/N). “How’s the side?” he jerks his chin toward her.

(Y/N) shrugs. “Healing.”

Johnny bumps Hotch's arm. “So, how ya manage to tie ‘er down?” Gaz chuckles behind Johnny. “Couldn’t ‘ave been an easy feat.”

(Y/N) lightly smacks the backside of Johnny’s head. “He didn’t tie me down.” She glares at him. “Get in the dining room before I throw you out already.”

“Awe, don’ be like that, Lass. Just poken’ a bit of fun.” Johnny grins, knowing she’s not actually mad at him.

“Go.” She points to the dining room.

Johnny holds his hand up in surrender and walks into the other room with Gaz and Ghost behind him. Price chuckles. “Pay them no mind. They were all excited when you told us to come for dinner.”

Hotch steps next to his wife and gently rests a hand on her lower back. “I’m glad you all could make it. I know you’re going back tomorrow. So it means a lot to both of us that you took the time to stop here first.”

Price smiles. “Anything for one of ours.” He turns and walks into the dining room.

(Y/N) sighs and looks up at Hotch. “Any initial thoughts?”

“Your stories of Johnny don’t do him justice.” Hotch laughs softly.

She shrugs. “He’s something else alright.”

“Come on, they’re waiting for us.” Hotch softly nudges her forward.

“Fine.” She takes his hand and heads in. She takes her seat next to Hotch’s after passing out plates to everyone and looks around the table. Her team was all happily joking with her husband as they all settled in. Her team thanks her for the meal and eagerly digs in. They haven’t had a properly cooked meal like this in a while, so they enjoy it when they can. All of them make sure (Y/N) knows how thankful they are before the questioning starts.

“So, how bad has it been, been’ married to this one?” Johnny was the first to break up the sound of utensils on plates. (Y/N) glares at Johnny.

Hotch laughs it off. “Honestly, not much has changed for us. We love spending time together. Marriage just seems to work for us.”

“He puts up with me, it’s all I can ask for.” (Y/N) chimes in as she cuts another bite to eat. Her lighthearted comment brings a chuckle to everyone.

“You have a little one, right?” Gaz leans forward to ask Hotch.

“I do. Jack is at his aunt's house right now.” Hotch smiles as he talks about Jack.

Price turns to (Y/N). “He likes you?”

“He does.” She nods. “I mean, he better, I’ve been in his life since he was born.” She looks over at Hotch with a smile.

Price chuckles. “Fair enough.” Price turns to Hotch. “She told us you were a prosecutor before working with the BAU, correct?”

“Yes, I used to work as a prosecutor. I changed fields so I could do more good than I was doing then.” Hotch easily takes over the conversation. Telling them how he felt as if he could do more good being a profiler than he ever could as a prosecutor.

Her team continues to ask more questions, mainly about Hotch’s job and how he treats (Y/N) when she's home. Once everyone was finished eating the boys immediately help (Y/N) clear the table and wash up, not that she even asked them to. If anything, she told them not to, only to be, politely, pushed aside. Hotch stands next to her as Johnny and Gaz tell him about a mission they went on where they had to detangle (Y/N) and Price from a tree after a rough landing. (Y/N) and Price exchange glances when the two add more details than were true. A few eye rolls and scoffs were shared at the story.

Once all the dishes were done and Johnny finally finished another one of his stories, (Y/N) moved everyone into the living room. There Hotch tells them a bit more about what he and his team do. The team listens eagerly, hanging onto nearly every word. (Y/N) smiles to herself as she watches them. After a minute she feels a soft tap against her shoe. She looks up to see Ghost staring at her. He nods his head toward the kitchen. (Y/N) gives him a soft nod.

“You boys want tea?” She interjects softly as Hotch finishes his thought.

“I wouldn’t mind a cup.”

“Yes, please.”

“Sure, Lass.”

She nods as they accept. “Aaron?” She stands and looks down at her husband.

“I’m alright, thank you.” He smiles up at her.

“Ok. Give me a hand, Simon?” Ghost merely stands and follows behind her. The two walk into the kitchen as the four continue talking.

“You trust 'im?” He asks the second the two are out of earshot.

“With my life.” (Y/N) looks up at the lieutenant.

Ghost stares at her with matching seriousness. “He good to ya'?”

“Very.” She answers easily.

He nods. “If he tries anythin’.”

“You’ll be the first I call.” She interrupts his thought.

Ghost grunts. “'is team know you?”

“Met them a while back.” She nods.

He nods. After a long pause, he speaks up again. “I like 'im.”

(Y/N) chuffs. “Really? I couldn’t tell.”

“Don’ get cheeky.” Ghost narrows his eyes at her.

“Wouldn’t think of it.” (Y/N) turns to prepare tea for her team.

Once the tea was ready, the two brought out the cups and passed them to each member. They all say their thanks and ease back into asking questions. To Hotch’s credit he takes Gaz and Johnny’s lighthearted banter and runs with it. The night goes on with loud laughs and well-meant jabs at each other. Hotch got to sit back and watch (Y/N) and Johnny have a back-and-forth on whose fault a misplaced rifle started a five-day hunt for said rifle was. Sitting in his living room with his wife and her team allowed him to see just how close they all were and how much they cared for each other.

As the sun started to go down the team realized they should be heading out. They all said their goodbyes for the night, giving hugs to their colonel and strong gripped handshakes to Hotch. They thanked Hotch and (Y/N) for the meal and headed out the door.

Price stops by (Y/N) and rests a hand on her shoulder. “You have a lovely house. Thank you for having us over.”

“Thank you for accepting my invitation to join us.” She rests her hand over his.

“We’ll always come when you call, love.” Price smiles at her.

She returns his smile. “Drive safe.”

He gives her shoulder a light squeeze and tips the brim of his hat to her and nods to Hotch before walking to his car. (Y/N) and Hotch stand outside watching each of them get into the cars, Johnny waves at them as he and Ghost drive off first. Price and Gaz follow out the driveway.

Hotch wraps his arms around her waist and rests his chin on her shoulder. “Feel better?”

“I do.” She leans into him. Her hands hold his arms.

“You sure, you look pensive.” He tilts his head to look down at her.

She waves off his worry. “Price mentioned something about our next mission. It’s nothing to do with you meeting them.”

Hotch could tell she was being honest. “You think I meet their approval?”

(Y/N) nods. “Ghost likes you.”

“He barely said a word.” Hotch raises an eyebrow.

“That’s just how he is.” She shrugs. “I’m surprised you couldn’t tell, Mr. Profiler.” She teases.

“I think it was the twitch in his eye every time I touched you that made me think otherwise.” Hotch laughs. “You have a good group around you. They genuinely care for you.”

(Y/N) gives his arm a squeeze. “Yeah, they’re a good bunch.”

[rosemariiaa]

~Lines we Drew~

part: 6 last part

pairing: Paige x Azzi

a/n: well..i really liked this series yall, but let me not get sappy 😞. I hope you enjoy this last part as much as I loved writing it, Im also thinking of doing an epilogue do y’all want that? other than that i love youuu 💌

themes: angst, language, fluff

Enjoy!!!

The air between them was still heavy from the argument. Paige’s body felt like it was burning from the inside out, anger boiling under her skin as she replayed the words exchanged with Azzi. She could feel the tears building, but she refused to let them fall in front of Azzi. Not again.

Paige clenched her fists and turned away, storming off down the hall. Her vision blurred as the tears finally slipped out, and before she even realized it, her feet had taken her back to her dorm.

She didn’t stop until she reached Nika’s room, barging in without knocking, plopping onto Nika’s bed in a crumpled mess of tears and frustration.

“What the hell happened?” Nika asked, clearly taken aback, but there was concern in her voice.

Paige buried her face into Nika’s pillow, her voice muffled, “Everything. It’s all just… fucked.”

Nika sat beside her, rubbing her back gently. “You wanna talk about it?”

For a few moments, Paige was silent, the weight of everything pressing down on her chest. “It’s Azzi… we argued again. I—I told her how I feel… how I’ve always felt… and I just… broke.” Nika’s eyebrows shot up. “Wait, you mean—”

“I mean everything,” Paige interrupted. “She left me, Nika. She fucking left me when I needed her the most. And she just acts like it wasn’t that big of a deal. Like… like I didn’t matter.”

Nika’s hand stilled on Paige’s back, her expression softening. “Paige…”

“It was my birthday, Nika,” Paige whispered. “The day she left. She didn’t even say goodbye. Just disappeared… left me with all this shit. My parents had just divorced, and I had no one to talk to… except her. And she just vanished.”

The floodgates opened, and Paige sobbed into the pillow, all the anger, pain, and heartbreak from years ago pouring out at once. Nika stayed quiet, letting Paige release everything she had held inside for so long.

———-

As Paige stormed off, Azzi stood frozen, watching her walk away with tears streaming down her face. Her heart ached seeing Paige like that, and for a moment, she wanted to chase after her, to stop her and fix everything… but she couldn’t. Suddenly, she was pulled back to that summer years ago, to the day before she left.

Flashback to USA Basketball Camp

She was just 15, playing on the USA Basketball team with Paige, and even back then, their connection was undeniable. But there was also something else. Something that confused her, scared her. Azzi was starting to realize her feelings for Paige weren’t just about basketball, weren’t just friendship. And that terrified her.

She remembered sitting at the kitchen table with her mom, Katie, the night before she left for good.

“Mom, I don’t know what to do,” Azzi admitted, her voice trembling. “I… I think I have feelings for Paige. But I don’t know if I’m ready to deal with that, I’ve never felt this way..towards anyone. I don’t know if I’m… ready for any of this.”

Katie looked at her with a soft, understanding smile, placing her hand on Azzi’s. “You don’t have to figure it all out right now, Az. It’s okay to be confused.”

“But what if I hurt her?” Azzi asked, tears brimming in her eyes. “What if I can’t… what if I’m not what she needs?”

Katie sighed gently. “Paige loves you, Azzi. That’s obvious. But you can’t make decisions out of fear. Whatever you choose, I’ll support you. Just be sure of one thing… Paige will understand, but you also can’t be surprised if there’s another reaction.”

Azzi had nodded, but deep down, she didn’t believe it. So the next morning, she left. She left Paige without a word, without an explanation. She couldn’t face her, couldn’t confront her own feelings. She didn’t even tell Paige goodbye. The guilt haunted her every day.

She thought she could run away from it, that distance would make it easier, but instead, it only made it worse.

———-

Present Day

Hours later, Paige, Azzi, and the team found themselves at a bar downtown. Nika had insisted that a night out would help everyone cool down and lighten the mood, but as soon as Azzi walked in and saw Paige across the room, all the tension came flooding back.

Paige was already at the bar, nursing a drink, her eyes flicking up to meet Azzi’s briefly before looking away. Azzi tried to ignore the sinking feeling in her chest, but after a few drinks, she couldn’t take it anymore. She walked over to Paige, standing beside her.

“We need to talk,” Azzi said, her voice low.

Paige snorted, downing the rest of her drink before turning to face her. “Talk? Now you wanna talk?”

Azzi hesitated, seeing the fire in Paige’s eyes, but pressed on. “I’m sorry. I should’ve—”

“Sorry? You think sorry is enough?” Paige interrupted, her voice rising. “You fucking left me, Azzi. You didn’t say goodbye. You didn’t give me a chance to… to understand. You just left.”

“I didn’t know what to do!” Azzi said, her voice desperate. “I was scared, Paige. I was confused. I thought leaving was the only way.”

The bar had gone quiet, people turning to watch their argument unfold, but neither of them cared.

Azzi’s eyes filled with tears. “I never wanted to hurt you, Paige. I didn’t know how to handle… us. I was scared.” “Scared of what?” Paige asked, her voice breaking. “Of me? You know what I can’t..I’m not doing this Az.”

Paige stormed out of the bar, her heart pounding in her chest, tears blurring her vision. She felt the heat of anger and betrayal boiling inside her, twisting her gut. She couldn’t believe how everything had spiraled out of control. The chaos of emotions threatened to drown her, and she just needed to get away.

She hurried down the street, not knowing where she was going but desperate to escape the suffocating weight of it all. All she knew was that she couldn’t face anyone right now.

“Paige! Wait!” Azzi’s voice cut through the night, pulling her back from her spiraling thoughts.

Paige paused but didn’t turn around. “What do you want, Azzi? Another half-assed apology?” Her voice dripped with sarcasm, masking the pain beneath.

Azzi caught up, grabbing her wrist gently but firmly. “No, I—I need to explain.”

Paige yanked her hand away, her heart racing. “Explain what? How you ghosted me when I was falling apart? Or how you dipped without a word and shattered my heart on my damn birthday?”

Azzi’s expression fell, guilt washing over her. “I know I hurt you, but—”

“But what, Azzi?” Paige interrupted, her voice shaking with frustration. “You left when I needed you the most! I was drowning, and you just ran away. You weren’t there for me when my parents divorced, when everything was crumbling. You were my rock, and you just disappeared!”

Azzi swallowed hard, feeling the weight of every accusation. “I’m sorry..I didn’t know that, I didn’t know how to handle it, Paige. I was lost, too.”

“Lost? You just left me!” Paige’s chest heaved with every word, anger mixing with hurt. “You were supposed to be my best friend. I thought I could count on you!”

Azzi’s heart ached, guilt crashing over her like waves. “I was scared,” she confessed, her voice breaking. “I was so confused about everything—about you, about me.., about us, and the pressure from the media, the coaches… I couldn’t deal with it. So I ran. I thought it would be easier.” Paige’s chest tightened, her emotions spilling over. “You didn’t give me the chance! You could have at least tried!”

Azzi took a shaky breath, the rawness of their argument hanging heavily in the air. “And I regret that every day. But I didn’t want to drag you down with my mess, Paige. I thought leaving would be better for both of us.”

Paige’s anger flickered, a new understanding dawning on her. “I get that you were scared, Azzi,” she said softly, her voice trembling. “But I was scared too. I felt so alone when you weren’t there. I thought we could face it together. I thought you understood what I was going through.”

“I should have been there,” Azzi said, her voice barely above a whisper. “I should have known you needed me, and instead, I just ran away.”

“Yeah, you did.” Paige paused, her tears glistening in the dim light. “And it hurt like hell. But I can see now that you were hurting too. I just… I needed you to be strong when I couldn’t be.”

Azzi looked down, guilt washing over her. “I wanted to be strong. But it was all too much for me, Paige. I was terrified of what my feelings meant, terrified of messing things up even more. I couldn’t handle the pressure and my feelings for you.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Paige asked, her heart softening as she reached for Azzi’s hand, intertwining their fingers. “We could have figured it out together.”

“I was scared of losing you,” Azzi admitted, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “I thought leaving was the only way to protect both of us.”

Paige’s heart ached at Azzi’s confession. “I didn’t realize you were dealing with so much too. It felt like I was the only one hurting, but now I see how we both were. I just… I wish you hadn’t left me, especially on my birthday.”

Azzi’s eyes shimmered with remorse as she reached into her pocket, pulling out a small, delicate infinity necklace. “I left this for you. Under your pillow before I left. I thought maybe one day you’d find it and understand… But when it got sent back, I thought you didn’t want anything to do with me.”

Paige stared at the necklace, confusion mixing with the flood of emotions. “I’ve never seen that before,” she murmured, wiping her eyes. “How did it get sent back to you?”

Before Azzi could respond, the bar door swung open, and Jose, stepped outside, overhearing their conversation. “Wait, are you talking about that necklace?” he called out, pointing.

Azzi nodded, her heart racing. “Yeah, why?”

Jose shrugged, looking sheepish. “One of the coaches found it in your room at camp and sent it back to the house. I thought you knew.” Azzi blinked, disbelief flashing across her face. “Well, obviously not!”

Jose gave them an awkward smile before retreating back inside. They stood there for a moment, stunned, then burst into soft, teary laughter—laughter that felt like a release.

Azzi stepped closer, taking a deep breath. “I’m so sorry, Paige. For everything. For leaving, for being a coward, for hurting you when you needed me the most.”

Paige felt her heart clench, tears still falling. She reached out, taking the necklace from Azzi’s trembling hands. “I didn’t think I’d ever see this,” she whispered, looking up into Azzi’s eyes. “You’ve always meant so much to me.” Azzi nodded, her eyes glistening. “I never stopped caring about you, Paige. I was just too scared to face it all.”

Without thinking, Paige stepped forward, closing the distance between them, and kissed Azzi softly. It was hesitant at first, but as Azzi kissed her back, the world around them faded. It was just them—two hearts finding their way back to each other, the weight of the past still there, but lighter somehow.

When they finally pulled away, both breathless, they lingered close, foreheads touching. “I want to be with you, Azzi,” Paige murmured, her voice thick with emotion. “I’ve always wanted that. I’m sorry I didn’t see your pain before.”

“I want that too. I want to try,” Azzi replied, her voice trembling with sincerity. “Whatever it takes, I promise to never leave you again.”

“Good, because I’ll be damned if I let you go again,” Paige whispered, a small smile breaking through the tears.

“Deal,” Azzi replied, grinning through her tears.

———-

Game day: UConn vs. Villanova

The next day, the gym buzzed with excitement as the team prepared for their game against Villanova. The atmosphere was electric, a mix of nerves and adrenaline. Paige and Azzi exchanged glances during warmup, a silent understanding passing between them.

As the game started, they fell into a rhythm, communicating effortlessly on the court. Azzi set a perfect screen for Paige, who cut to the basket, receiving a crisp pass that she finished with a layup. The crowd erupted, and for the first time in a long while, everything felt right.

The tension in the gym grew as Villanova pressed hard, trying to claw back into the game. Just when it seemed they might gain an edge, a player drove to the hoop, determined to score. But Azzi was ready.

“YEAH!” Paige yelled as she watched Azzi leap into the air, her timing impeccable. With a powerful swat, Azzi blocked the shot, sending the ball flying across the court. The crowd erupted into cheers, and Paige was right there, pumping her fists in the air. “That’s what I’m talking about!” she shouted, her voice filled with excitement.

Geno smiled from the sidelines, nodding in approval as the team rallied around Azzi. “That’s the energy we need!” he called out, clapping his hands together.

As the game progressed, the chemistry between Paige and Azzi shone through. With Nika assisting from the wing, they executed a flawless fast break, leading to another basket.

In the final moments of the game, with the score tied, Paige found herself with the ball. She dribbled, her heart racing as she spotted Azzi cutting toward the hoop. Without hesitation, she tossed the ball to Azzi, who caught it mid-air, spinning around her defender and sinking the shot just as the buzzer sounded.

The crowd erupted in cheers as their team celebrated the victory. Paige grabbed Azzi in a whirlwind of excitement, lifting her off the ground and spinning her around. “We did it!”

Azzi laughed, a sound of pure joy. “You’re crazy!” she yelled, her heart soaring.

As the team celebrated, they all gathered in a huddle, chanting and cheering.

———-

After the game, Instead of heading out with the team to celebrate, they quietly made their way to Azzi’s dorm, wanting to be alone together. Once inside, the door closed behind them, sealing off the noise of the world. The room felt cozy and intimate, filled with the lingering energy from the game. Azzi turned to Paige, her heart racing.

“Can you believe we won, I mean they were going really hard tonight?” Azzi said, her eyes sparkling.

“Of course I can, with the way we played I had no doubt, you were amazing Az,” Paige replied, her voice filled with enthusiasm. “But right now, I just want to be here with you. Just us.”

Azzi nodded, her heart warming at the thought. They settled onto the bed, surrounded by pillows and blankets. The weight of the past started to lift, and as they shared stories and laughter, everything felt right.

As the night deepened, Azzi began to drift off, her head resting comfortably on Paige’s chest. Paige gently stroked Azzi’s hair, feeling a wave of contentment wash over her. She thought Azzi was fast asleep when a sudden wave of love hit her like a tidal wave.

“I love you,” Paige whispered softly, her heart vulnerable and exposed. She thought the words would hang in the air, but in the stillness of the room, they felt like a promise.

“I love you too,” Azzi whispered back, her voice barely audible but filled with warmth.

Paige’s heart leaped at the sound, her eyes widening in disbelief. A smile broke out on her face, one so bright it could light up the room

Their smiles grew wider, the unbreakable bond between them solidifying in that moment. As they settled into each other, everything felt right, the past behind them and the future ahead filled with possibility.

———-

a/n: okay i’m sad now bye. oops forgot to tag my lovelies @thaatdigitaldiary @patscorner @imaginespazzi

[alluralater]

[sigh] i am once again thinking about eating it from the back while she grinds on my drooly tongue and arches so deep for me. like that kind of instinctive grinding that she can’t stop— couldn’t stop. biting down on her hand because it feels too good and she needs to dilute the sensation. but it doesn’t matter. no it really doesn’t fucking matter because as she’s rocking her hips up and down in that messy rhythm, i’m holding her open, sloppily kissing and licking and moaning and laughing low into her wet pussy. she’s so overwhelmed but she wants more. more more more. i’m groping the length of her thigh. so fucking soft under my hands. god why is she always this soft. warm. ready to be touched. UGH. i’m thinking so many thoughts. i think i hate her

[gilbertscurls]

Consume ➵ Matt Sturniolo

synopsis: you finds yourself at a crowded party, but your mind is fixated on matt, the steady presence in your life who's recently stirred unfamiliar feelings within you.

The music pulsed through the crowded room, the bass reverberating in your chest as you weaved your way through the party. Neon lights flickered above, casting everyone in a hazy glow of reds and blues. You spotted Matt leaning against the bar, his head tilted back slightly as he took a long sip of his drink. His dark hair fell messily across his forehead, and his signature cool, effortless demeanor was as present as ever.

You weren’t sure when it had started—this unshakable pull toward him. He was always a constant in her life, the steady friend, the one who never let emotions show too clearly. But recently, every time you were in the same room, it was like a magnetic force pulled you closer, making your stomach twist with a kind of nervous energy you weren’t used to.

And now, with the low lights casting shadows across his sharp features and his black jacket hugging his frame just right, that pull was undeniable. You couldn’t help it. You were drawn to him, maybe even consumed by him.

“Y/N!” a voice called out from behind you, snapping you from your daze. You turned to see Chris and Nick waving her over.

“Hey guys,” you greeted, though your eyes flickered back to Matt. Chris followed your gaze, smirking.

“Can’t stop staring at our boy, huh?” Chris teased, nudging your shoulder. “I see the way you look at him.”

You shot him a warning glance, your face growing hot. “Shut up.”

Nick raised an eyebrow but said nothing. He always knew when to stay out of things. But Chris? Not so much.

Before you could say anything else, Chris gave you a knowing grin and strolled toward the bar, Nick trailing behind him. That left you standing awkwardly a few feet away from Matt, your heart pounding harder than it should have been. You were about to walk over when, suddenly, he turned and met your gaze.

The air between you seemed to thicken instantly, the noise of the party fading to a distant hum. His dark eyes held yours, steady and unreadable, but something in his expression flickered. He motioned you over, and without thinking, you obeyed, your feet carrying you to him before your brain could catch up.

“Hey,” he said, his voice low, almost drowned out by the music. “You good?”

You nodded, though you didn’t feel good. You felt out of control, your body reacting to his presence in ways that made you feel dizzy. You caught the slight downturn of his lips, a look of concern flashing across his face.

“You seem… Off tonight.”

You wanted to laugh at that. Off? If only he knew. You were so far from “off,” you didn’t know how to describe it. Instead of explaining yourself, though, you shrugged, trying to play it cool. “I’m fine. Just tired, I guess.”

He nodded, his gaze never leaving yours, and you could feel the weight of his attention. It was suffocating but also addictive, like you couldn’t get enough. Before you realized what was happening, Matt set his drink down and leaned in close, his voice barely a whisper in your ear.

“Come outside with me.”

It wasn’t a question, more like a statement, and you didn’t hesitate to follow him as he made his way through the crowd. You both stepped out into the crisp night air, the streetlights casting long shadows across the sidewalk. The party still raged inside, but out here, it was just the two of you.

Matt turned to face you, his expression unreadable. For a moment, you just stood there, the city lights glowing softly around you. You crossed your arms, suddenly feeling the chill, but it wasn’t the cold that made you shiver.

“Y/N…” His voice was soft now, almost hesitant. He reached up, brushing a strand of hair from your face, and the simple touch sent a shock through your system. “You don’t have to act like nothing’s going on. I see it.”

Your heart skipped a beat. “See what?”

He stepped closer, his hand lingering near your cheek. “This… Thing between us.”

You opened her mouth to respond, but the words got stuck in your throat. Of course, he’d noticed. How could he not? It had been building for months, this undeniable tension, this pull that had you thinking about him constantly.

“You can feel it too, right?” His voice was low, his eyes locked on yours, and the intensity in his gaze was overwhelming.

You nodded, unable to deny it anymore.

He closed the distance between them, his hand now cupping your cheek. “It’s been driving me crazy,” he murmured, his breath warm against your skin. “I can’t stop thinking about you. Every time I see you…”

He didn’t finish the sentence, but he didn’t have to. You knew exactly what he meant because you felt it too—the constant, maddening thoughts of him that had been consuming you for weeks.

Before you could respond, Matt’s lips brushed against yours, softly at first, almost like he was testing the waters. But when you didn’t pull away, the kiss deepened, his hands slipping around your waist and pulling you closer.

It was intoxicating, the way his touch sent sparks through you, the way the world seemed to fall away. You kissed him back with a kind of urgency that surprised you, like you’d been waiting for this moment for far too long.

But as much as you wanted this, as much as you craved him, there was a part of you that knew this was dangerous. There was something dark about it, something that felt like it would consume you if you let it.

You broke the kiss, stepping back slightly, your breathing ragged. “Matt…”

“I know,” he said, his voice rough, his eyes still filled with that same burning intensity. “I know this is complicated.”

“Complicated doesn’t even begin to cover it,” you whispered, your heart racing. “What if… What if we ruin everything?”

He stared at you for a long moment, his expression softening. “Maybe we will,” he admitted. “But maybe… Maybe it’s worth it.”

You hesitated, the weight of his words hanging heavy in the air. This was Matt—your steady, reliable Matt. But the way he was looking at you now, the way he had kissed you, it felt different. Dangerous. Like stepping off a cliff and not knowing where you would land.

But maybe, just maybe, you didn’t care.

You reached for him again, pulling him back into your arms. If this was going to consume you, you might as well fall headfirst into it.

And as his lips met yours again, all thoughts of caution melted away, leaving nothing but the raw, electric energy between you.

tag list: @stuwniolo, @sturnobsessedwh0re, @matts-myloverboy, @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut, @lizzymacdonald06, @asherrisrandom

[jungkit]

yang jungwon- ache for you

jw x f!reader ☯︎ fluff, angst ☯︎ cursing, suggestive ☯︎ wc 842 ☯︎ not proofread

You considered Jungwon one of your close friends, having grown up next to each other and your families being close.

Where you were, he was.

And you hate to admit it, but over time, you grew to have a crush on him.

You can’t help it! He’s grown to be such a good person, not to mention handsome.

You’re certainly not the only one either.

It’s almost everyday you hear one girl or another talking about Jungwon.

You know they envy you for being close to him, but even so, you think he only sees you as a friend.

So, you’ve kept your feelings secret.

There have been numerous times where you’ve wanted to confess, but chickened out every time.

You can’t help but swoon whenever Jungwon talks about you to others, which is why when you hear him mention your name, you can’t help but listen around the corner of the hallway.

“She’s so fucking annoying. I get we’ve been friends since we were kids but it’s like I can never escape her. She’s always there, always clinging to me somehow, I wish she’d just back off.”

You feel your heart crack as you take in his words.

Is this how he’s felt about you all along? Or was this a recent feeling?

Either way, tears prick your eyes as you take a step back.

Without warning, someone turns the corner, coming into direct contact with you.

You look up and see Jungwon, a confused look on his face.

He sees the tears in your eyes and knows.

“Y/N…I-”

You put a hand up, telling him to stop.

Turning around, you begin walking away.

“Y/N, wait!”

His hand makes contact with your shoulder, but you shrug it off.

Making your way into the girls bathroom, somewhere he can’t follow you, you sit on the sink and let the tears flow, trying not to make any noise.

Jungwon stands outside the bathroom, trying to coax you to come out and talk to him.

Only when the bell rings do you hear footsteps leaving the area.

You freshen yourself up, splashing some cold water on your face before heading to class.

You spend the next few days completely avoiding Jungwon who is still attempting to talk to you.

Why? You’re giving him what he wanted.

He even came to your house, asking to see you but you told your parents you didn’t want to see him, to their surprise.

They begged you to tell them what happened but you refused.

Despite everything, you don’t want Jungwon getting into trouble.

Jungwon feels like his world is crashing down.

He knows that what he said was true, he did feel suffocated by you, but he didn’t go about it the right way.

He only started feeling this way recently, wanting space from you for a while.

No, he doesn’t hate you, he just wanted to spend some time apart.

Now he feels terrible for what he’s done.

He didn’t miss the side eye your parents gave him, wanting to know why their daughter refused to see him. He wanted to confess, tell the truth but he couldn’t bring himself to do it.

As he lays in bed after another unsuccessful day of trying to talk to you, he thinks about the past 18 years of his life.

You’ve always been there, by his side through everything.

And now, he’s possibly ruined everything.

Jungwon reevaluates everything.

Why did he say what he said?

Because he felt suffocated by your presence.

But why?

He’d never had a problem until recently.

As he scrolls through your instagram, he looks at your most recent post.

You’re beautiful, you always have been.

Even at a young age, Jungwon thought you were pretty.

You’ve grown into an amazing, beautiful young woman.

He feels an ache in his heart at the thought of losing you.

He thinks about you, about your smile, your laugh.

Without realizing, he’s begun to ache somewhere other than his heart.

Looking down, he groans.

Now he has to go take a cold shower.

The next morning, you make your way to school, headphones in not hearing the footsteps behind you.

Jungwon throws himself in front of you, grabbing your shoulders so you stop.

Looking up at him, you try not to lean into his touch that you’ve missed so much.

“What,” you say, giving him a cold stare.

“I realized why I said what I said. It’s because I’m so infatuated with you, that I thought pushing you away would push my feelings away. I love you and I’m sorry.”

You freeze up under Jungwon’s hold, processing his confession.

“What?”

“I. Love. You.”

You feel tears begin to cascade down your cheeks, yet this time they’re not sad tears.

“Jungwon, you idiot.”

“I know,” he pulls you into a hug.

Wrapping your arms around him, you squeeze him tightly.

He pulls away, cupping your face and kissing you gently.

You kiss back, sighing in content.

When you walk into school, hands intertwined, you feel revived.

sorry for not posting for so long, hehe

tagging @pshbites cause she wanted me to ☺️

[mattsturnioloz]

Then I lost you: Pt 5. (last pt.)

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4.

Summary: Matt's career as a youtuber takes a toll on his 4 year relationship with his girlfriend, putting it on hold. Will it ever be the same again?

Warnings: angst, unresolved angst, crying, fluff!!

Pairings: Y/n x Matt Sturniolo

A/N: (This is gonna be the last part, it’s gonna be sad but hope you guys will love it 🫶🏼 Also I fell asleep in the middle of writing this so forgive me if it’s not my best😖 I recommend listening to the song while reading 😚)

(Also since this part is really long I recommend just replaying the song over and over until the end of the story :) if you wanna cry☠️)

Matt’s Pov:

I drive back back home, The car silent and the negative thoughts come to my head but I quickly drown them out by playing music.

I get home and open the front door, and I go up the stairs to the living room and see Chris and Nick both laying on the couch watching some netflix show and I lay in between them, putting my head on Nicks shoulder. Somewhat needing to feel my brothers comfort.

“Are you okay?” he speaks up looking at me on his shoulder. I shake my head while staring at the tv and picking at my nails. He puts his arm around my shoulders and rests his head against mine and Chris rubs his hand up and down, on my partly exposed back and they exchange sympathetic glances at eachother.

Nick and Chris fall asleep during the show and I get bored, closely listening to the analog clock that we have above the couch, ticking, and the soft snores of Chris and Nick filling my ears.

I decide to get up and clean up around the house, doing basic chores until later in the day when it’s time to get ready. I shower quickly so that I don’t have time to think about the negatives. I grab the towel and dry myself off before going to my room.I go to my closet. The side where y/n’s clothes used to be is empty and the sight hurts. The hangers just.. hanging.

I knock out of it and I change into a plain light grey, almost white hoodie, and light blue baggy jeans with a pair of white air forces. Something casual but nice.

I’m nervous, like I was before picking her up for our first date, 5 years ago. I know where im taking her already and I can’t wait, but it’s going to bring back memories and i’m not sure that it’s a good thing right now.

I put on my Vivienne Westwood earrings and necklace to match before fixing up my hair. I hook my keys on the belt loop of my jeans and I spray cologne and deodorant before turning off my room light and heading out closing the door behind me.

I would say bye to Nick and Chris but they’re passed out on the couch so I go down to the stairs to the front door, leaving and locking the door after I walk out. I walk over to my car, getting in and I can feel my heart beating out of my chest.

I stop by a flower shop and I grab a bouquet of plumeria flowers, her favorite. The same ones I got her on our first date with all sorts of pretty colors that all go well together. They’re beautiful and vibrant, just like her.

I pay for them before I go back out my car and I get in buckling my seatbelt and I take a deep breath before I start the car and I start driving to Y/n’s house. Y/n’s house.

I break down in sobs, letting my cries out before I get to her place. I feel like I can’t breathe, gripping the wheel so tight, that my palms start to turn white.

I get there and park before putting the mirror down and making sure I look okay. I get out taking a deep breath, taking in the warm Los angeles sunset. I go over to her front door and let my fist hover over the door for a moment, my palms sweaty and I wipe them before I knock.

———- ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ ———-

Y/n’s Pov:

I’m changing into a nice simple white dress, when I hear a knock on the door. Shit. I hope I look okay. I dust my dress off in the mirror while also checking if my makeup looks alright before grabbing my purse and turning off the lights. I go to the front door and open it to see Matt standing there. He looks so good.

“Hey baby..” He says with a warm smile. He looks nervous, exactly like he did on our first date. It’s radiating off of him and I feel my palms start to sweat. I see tear stains on his cheeks but i’d rather not bring it up and ruin the mood.. Instead I wrap arms around him and hug him.

I can feel my body shaking, I don’t wanna lose him. Why are we even trying? What was the point of splitting up if we were just going to act like a couple? Technically today, we still are one.

We finally let go of what will be one of our last hugs. My heart is still aching to the point where it’s starts to hurt physically. “Youre so beautiful.. you always have been..” He says in the sweetest, most gentle tone. He grabs me the waist pulling me closer, while looking me up and down in awe.

“Thank you baby..” I reply, smiling and I press a kiss to his lips. “You ready to go?” He asks. His tone almost sad. But I nod and smile in response.

This is what I was still holding on to. Moments like these. Moments like last night, and this morning. I love him. So much. I wish he would just tell me that he takes it all back. That he wants to be with me. That he wants to try again.

———- ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ ———-

Matt’s Pov:

I grab her hand after she locks her door and I lead her to my car, opening the door for her. She kisses me on the way in before smiling at me. Her smile makes my heart flutter. She’s so beautiful. Everything about her is just so beautiful.

I kiss her again before shutting the door and making my way around the car and into the drivers seat. We buckle ourselves in before I start the car. The sun still setting by the minute.

I roll the windows down, the air warm and fresh, and Y/n plays music, singing along with it, and I can’t help but smile and steal a few glances at her. We stop at a red light and I reach in the backseat. She looks at me, confused and I grab the plumeria flowers, handing them to her.

She freezes and she looks up at me almost in shock. She knows. I can tell that she wants to cry but she doesn’t. She flashes me a big smile. “Thank you so much baby, I love them!” She says with the biggest smile before smelling them. “Of course, i’m glad you like them..” I say reaching over and putting my hand on her thigh, caressing it gently before just letting my thumb glide side to side.

I’m devastated that i’m losing all of this. I can’t believe I treated her the way I did. I wish I could take back everything i’ve said to hurt her. Maybe this wouldn’t be happening. If i would’ve just treated her right and gave her the love and attention that she deserves. I let my career get in the way of our relationship. Our love.

“I’m glad we’re doing this.” I say, glancing at her. “Me too, Matt. I’m really glad.” She responds. “I’m sorry.” I say, my voice cracking. Dammit, why do I keep crying. She turns her head too quick to look at me. “I’m sorry for all the things I did and said to push you away. I’m sorry I didn’t treat you better.” I swallow the lump in my throat. She takes my hand that’s still on her thigh and she kisses it.

“It’s okay Matt.. like you said, it’s for the best.. It just wasn’t working for either of us…” I nod and I want to tell her that I take it back, but I can’t. I know I can’t.

“Now let’s talk about something else to get your mind off of it yea?” she says smiling at me. How can she smile? How can she keep her composure when she’s probably more hurt than I am. I’m the one who said it won’t work. But I nod again. We talk about some more random things like our careers and future projects we might have planned and want to do.

We arrive at the restaurant and she looks at me with her jaw dropped while smiling. The same restaurant that I brought her to on our first date. “Ravioli?” She asks with a shriek, her voice crackling when she does. “Ravioli.” I nod chuckling her reaction.

I kiss her hand before unbuckling my seatbelt and I get out, making my way to the passenger side and opening the door for her, grabbing her hand to help her out. “I swear, you’re so beautiful baby.” I say closing the door before wrapping my arms around her waist pulling her closer and I kiss her.

“I could look at you for the rest of my life, and never get tired..”I mumble, against her lips before moving my kisses down to her jaw, then to her neck. She giggles at the feeling, making my heart flutter at the sound of her laugh.

I leave a small subtle hickey before pulling away and kissing her lips one more time and I grab her hand. “Let’s go.” I say, locking the car as I lead her towards the restaurant.

We go inside and I request the same table we had on the first date and thankfully, it was available. We get seated and handed our menus but we don’t bother to look inside because we both know we’re getting ravioli.

“I love that we’re recreating our first date.” She says, reaching across the table to hold my hand. “I thought you might. It feels like our first date all over again.” I smile, planting a gentle kiss against her knuckles.

The waitress comes over and we order, and not long after we get our food. We talk, eat and laugh about old times for hours, and eventually we’re the last people at the restaurant, the night coming to an end.

I pay the bill and we go quiet. Neither of us wanting the night to end. We stand up and I grab her hand leading her out the restaurant and I walk over to the trunk grabbing a blanket. “We’re going to the park too?” She smiles looking back towards the park next to the restaurant and I nod smiling.

“Gotta recreate our first date for our last.” I say placing a kiss on her temple. I lead her towards the park, the only lights being the dim street lights. I lead her to the grass, placing the blanket down and I kneel, helping her down before we both lay, looking up at the stars with her head and hand resting on my chest.

This feels right. The coldness of the night breeze making me feel peace. The mix of the stars and the streetlights, highlighting her features perfectly.

Hours pass. We talk while stargazing and eventually it’s 2 am. “I don’t want this night to end..” She’s says quietly. “Me neither baby..” I say, holding her closer.

Eventually we get up and she start to shiver so I wrap the blanket around her and hold her for a little before we stroll down the park back to my car.

I open the passenger door and let her inside before shutting the door while taking a deep breath and walking over to my side. I get in and it’s quiet. I glance at her and I can see her devastation.

I start the car and start driving towards her house. I put my hand on her thigh again, caressing it, and she grabs my hand intertwining her fingers with mine. The whole ride there silent.

When we arrive, I look over at her and she’s already looking at me with tears rolling down her cheeks at a rapid pace and she breaks down into sobs, her breath pace increasing.

To no surprise I start crying too. I get out of the car running to her side, opening the door and practically yanking her out, into a hug. Her sobs are killing me. “Listen to me Y/n.” I say lifting her head from my chest, cupping her cheeks, and wiping her tears with my thumbs.

“I’ll always be here for you, i’ll always love you so much, you’re the love of my life. No matter what, it’s always gonna be you baby.” I cry softly, pulling her head back to my chest. Her cries die down and all I hear is her occasional sniffling. “I love you, Matt..” she hiccups. “I love you too y/n.. more than life itself. I always will. Always and forever..” I say mumbling into her hair.

She pulls back and kisses me, and we make out slowly and passionately, taking our time, tears mixed in between. I give her one more soft loving kiss but eventually we part and my heart shatters into so many pieces to the point where i’m not sure that there even is one.

We let go of eachother and she makes her way towards her door and when she reaches it she looks back at me one more time. “I love you.” She says, with a teary smile. “I love you more.” I say smiling back, my own tears rolling down my face.

She watches me a little longer before turning around and unlocking her door, disappearing inside after she closes it. I take in the bittersweet moment. The love of my life is officially gone.

I take deep breaths as I walk to my door and I get in, starting the car and immediately driving away, because if I didn’t, I would be banging on her door begging her to stay with me.

———- ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ ———-

Y/n’s Pov:

I feel my heart break the more that I watch his car fade into the distance through my window and after i can’t see it anymore, I walk over to my couch and plopping on it. The silence too silent, like im drowning in it.

I look at the promise ring on my finger that he gave me long ago when we hit our 2 year anniversary. Taking in the memories that came with it. Remembering every detail of that beautiful night.

I stare at the boxes of my things that are still packed and I look around, taking in the emptiness and loneliness of my new home. 5 years with the love of my life… gone.. and I miss him already.. I miss him so much and all of our memories come flooding back. But then I realize that this was goodbye.

———- ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ ———-

Matt’s Pov:

As I drive further away from y/n’s house, a part of me is gone and feels like it’s been taken, but I know this was my doing. It’s all my fault. I need somewhere to go. To feel at peace. But then it hits me. The beach.

I drive to the beach, trying to drown out the painful after thoughts of losing y/n and the aching in my chest. My vision becomes blurry when soft tears fill my eyes.

I play music to try and drown out the images. The images of her smiling at me. The sound of her laughter. The sound of her crying. But it’s all too much and it doesn’t help that white ferrari by frank ocean starts playing.

When I get to the beach I park and pause. As if time stopped and I take in the sight, the memories flooding back all at once.

———- ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ ———-

Flashback:

“Where are you taking me?” Y/n giggles, as my hands are covering her eyes. “Be patient my love, you’ll see..” I say placing a kiss on her temple. I lead her to the spot at the beach and I uncover her eyes.

A whole picnic set up for us with blankets, pillows, her favorite snacks and board games. “Oh my god..” She says looking back at me with her jaw dropped and she jumps into my arms and I catch her, holding her up by her thighs, kissing her face repeatedly.

Her skin is soft and her hair is flowing with the night breeze making her look more beautiful than ever. The city lights reflecting on her face, highlighting her beautiful features.

I put her down giving her a kiss and I pull her down onto the blankets and pillows. “I have one more surprise for you my love..” I say, brushing her hair out of her face and tucking it behind her ear.

“Another one? Baby you didn’t have to-“ She says. “Shush, you deserve it and so much more.” I say cutting her off and pulling out a ring. “It’s a promise ring.”

She smiles and her eyes well up with tears. “Matt that’s so sweet oh my goodness..” She says trying to hold back her tears. I pause and take a deep breath before speaking.

“Y/n I promise to always be here for you, to be the one who cherishes your love. I promise to be faithful and to be the man that you deserve.” I say, sliding the ring on her ring finger. “I promise to be the woman you deserve too baby.. I promise i’ll always love you..” she says hugging me.

After that she lays in my lap, her upper back against my chest and her head against the crook of my neck as I hold her. We watch the stars and stare out into the darkness of the ocean, the city lights reflecting onto the water. The night is perfect and so is she.

I turn her face towards me and I gently kiss her lips. “I love you Y/n..” I say with a smile. “I love you more baby..”

———- ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ ———-

I walk towards where the sea meets the land and I sit in the very spot from that night, I breathe and take in the night air. The waves crash gently against the shore, a soothing rhythm that once matched the beat of our hearts.

I sat at the edge of the ocean, the place where we made our promises. The night sky seems endless, but it only reminds me of the distance between us now. Every memory we shared flashed before my eyes, each one more vivid than the last. The laughter, the tears, the promises we made.. they all feel so close, yet so far away.

In that moment, I realize that everything we had was slipping through my fingers like sand and I regret everything I said that pushed you away, I just want you back.

The echoes of our last conversation lingered in the air, haunting me with every breath I take. The place we once cherished now feels empty, a different contrast to the warmth you brought into my life.

The sky darkened, identical to the darkness I now feel in my life. The gentle breeze that once brought your laughter now carried only silence.

I sat there, hoping for a miracle, a sign that you might come back. A sign that this wasn't the end. I could only hope that we’d find each other again when the time was right.. but for now, I whispered your name one last time, knowing deep down that this was goodbye, and just like that you were gone.

Then I lost you.

———- ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ ———-

3,086 words.

A/N: (Ahhh my first series is finally finished!! I’m so devastated, and i’m as we speak. Thank you all for the support and I really hope you guys love this last part :) thank you 🫶🏼)

Taglist: @urmom69lol @imwetforyourmom @tsturniolo4 @watercolorskyy @starzinasblog @urfavstromboli @sturniqloo @star-yawnznn @h3arts4harry @asherrisrandom

[kedsandtubesocks]

drive ╏ roll-a-trope fic challenge

Joel Miller x F!Reader

summary: An early birthday celebration trip for Joel arrives & you’re excited to tag along… there’s just something you’ve been meaning to tell him about

prompt: #2 - road trip

warnings/tags: no explicit warnings but all my writing is 18+ only so MDNI, no use of y/n, pre-outbreak canon, established relationship, brief pov switch, light gendered language usage, Sarah Miller being the best, thoughts of marriage & children, hidden/surprise pregnancy, fluff & then ending angst (I’m sorry)

word count: 2k

a/n: thank you so much to @burntheedges for putting on this challenge for us, I’m so grateful to be a part of this thanks again Kate! Divider by the amazing @saradika-graphics (thank you & ily) & to you, if you’re reading this - thank you so much ♡

The drive from Austin to Corpus Christi was not one Joel took often, but this time it’s special.

This is first road trip with his girls, you and Sarah. It’s an early birthday week celebration for him. And honestly? He could just be on the road, driving around all day with no destination, and he wouldn’t mind a damn minute.

You by his side, Sarah in the back singing along to the radio - he never thought he’d ever find this slice of heaven before him.

He knew how nervous you were about the trip, knowing this would be another big step in the relationship. But with how effortlessly natural it was seeing you wake up in his bed, help pack the truck, even make breakfast for Sarah… a settling sensation filled his chest like you were always meant to be here, like realizing you were a finishing stitch into Joel’s life.

It’s a perfect early birthday treat he wants to savor forever.

With the windows rolled down, the traces of the morning sunlight illuminating the air, the beat of the radio, and you laughing at something Sarah said, Joel Miller is beyond content. The scenery from the Austin city limits blurs into soft hills that turn into stunning stretches of green. Then the towering palm trees arrive.

The few benefits of the Texas heat is still getting beach days in mid September.

The shimmer of the ocean already in sight perks Sarah up, and Joel beams.

“Dad, we have to go to those beach shops first please.” She urges, then eagerly explains to you the lure of the way too ridiculous tourist trap spots.

“Some even have these huge fake sharks in front you can take pictures with.” Sarah paints the image with brilliant excitement.

You’re glancing back at Sarah, hanging on her every word with graced patience, and Joel thinks his heart might melt out of his ribs.

He’s found something special here with you. He almost feels selfish at how badly he wants to hold onto it tight, never let you go.

As promised, before heading to the shoreline, Joel stops by a tourist shop that has a very large plastic shark wide with its teeth open before the door.

You laugh, twinkling and brilliant seeing it.

“See I told ya!” Sarah laughs happily.

“Oh we gotta take all the pictures with it.” You eagerly suggest and Joel wonders…

If maybe inside he grabs one of those ridiculous sea shell rings and propose to you right here and now.

-

The shop stands coated in a unique type of plastic over coated painted wonder. There’s a painted mural of seagulls flying over a bright pink sky on the wall. Another wall is coated top to bottom in various t-shirts that make you and Sarah giggle. So many wind chimes made of seashells hang from above.

You can’t believe your eyes trying to soak it all in.

“They even have hermit crabs here?” You’re a bit surprised at the rows of take home creatures that crawl around in their containers.

“Yes, ugh I’ve been trying to convince dad to let me get one for years.” Sarah sighs slightly pouting. “But he isn’t a fan.”

“Say it’s his birthday present.” You joke, and Sarah snickers.

You adore Joel’s daughter. Sarah is bright, incredibly clever and sweet, a pure wonder you’re grateful has allowed you into her and her dad’s life.

She even has been secretly telling you what she might be getting Joel for his birthday.

“I think I’m gonna just end up fixing his watch for him. I know he won’t ever do it himself.” She’s a considerate and deeply caring soul. Something she takes after her dad beautifully.

“Well if you need me to cover for you or take you, I can help.” You offer.

Sarah turns to you wearing the kindest smile and thanks you for the offer.

“But I think I got a plan. If it doesn’t work out though, trust me you’re my first alibi.” She nods firm.

“I’m honored, just don’t have me breaking you out of jail just yet.” You grin, and she playfully nudges you.

It’s affectionate. You learned fast the Millers love to tease, love showing their affection with quick wit and deep bonding. You’re grateful to be a part of that now.

Sarah eventually wanders back to Joel. You wonder if she’s really going to try and persuade him to get a hermit crab.

Wandering on your own now, you stumble across more clothing.

Specifically, you find yourself gravitated to the baby clothes section.

The small little onesies with dolphins on them, and the few cute shirts that say my first beach trip, all tug at your heart.

It takes everything in you not to grab one.

But you don’t want to spoil your birthday gift to Joel, not yet. You just found out earlier this week after all.

You just had to wait a little longer. You hope it will be worth it.

Before Joel or Sarah can spot you, you try finding one of the Millers first. Sarah of course chats with one of the cashiers at the hermit crab counter, and you snicker walking towards Joel. He stands surveying the kitschy fish wall decorations.

“I think we’re going to be going home with an extra little crawling critter. Sarah’s persistent.” You smirk.

Joel rolls his eyes.

“She can try all she want, but we ain’t taking a damn crab home.” He drawls out with a classical grumpy Joel pout. “Unless it’s fried.”

You snicker moving to lean against his side while an indescribable affection, a cotton candy delicate sweetness, blooms in you and you haven’t even gotten to the beach yet.

Joel must sense it too. His arms immediately draw you into him more, and he kisses the top of your head.

“Glad we took this road trip.” He mutters soft.

“Me too.” You agree rubbing his back.

“Sarah said we should make it yearly thing.” He adds.

“We should. Good way to celebrate your birthday early.” You fondly say.

He huffs. “Don’t want any crazy celebration I told ya. Just my girls, Tommy, and maybe a cake, that’s all I need.”

“Nothing crazy huh?” You tease soft.

“Baby, haven’t had a crazy birthday since I was twenty and ain’t wanted one since.” He snorts.

Now slight fear tugs at you. Maybe you should tell him your surprise now, or sooner than expected.

“Hey,” Joel’s soft warm hand moves to your face letting his thumb softly rub your jaw. “Y’okay, darlin’?”

You swallow hard, but nod with a smile.

“Yup just ready to get to the beach.” You half lie.

“Me too,” then he leans down closer to your ear. “Can’t wait to see how fuckin’ sexy you’ll be in that swim suit of yours-”

“Joel Miller.” You cry playfully aghast and swat his chest.

Joel rolls his eyes, yet a smile tugs at his lips.

Soon enough Sarah calls out for her dad causing you and him to slowly pull away.

The beach is calling too after all.

-

The rain patters a soft steady melody against the truck. You’re thankful everyone got in a few good hours in the waves, soaking in the nice weather, before the rain drops began. A downfall to Texas weather is its unpredictability.

Sarah sleeps soundly in the back tired out from enjoying the beach.

Sitting in the passengers detached in the cozy warmth of the truck, you even catch your eyes dropping shut every now and then.

“Get some rest, sweetheart. We still got a few hours on the road.” Joel, ever considerate, softly says over the radio.

You decide to maybe just rest for a little bit, settling into the seat more.

“Sorry we didn’t get to spend a full day at the beach.” You mutter, closing your eyes.

“Don’t be sorry, honey,” Joel reassures warm. His hand slides over to squeeze your knee closest to him across the counsel.

“Today was great.” His voice is thick, earnest in the buried emotions waiting for you to sink into. Now opening your eyes again, you glance over to Joel.

The soft stormy lighting coats him dreamy and cozy. His hair is even still fluffed up from the sand and sea, the picture perfect dreamy vacation man or possibly a mythical sea god you’ve luckily caught onto land. He’s incredibly handsome, your Joel.

“Thanks for coming.” He adds above a soft whisper.

“Thanks for letting me tag along.” You reply back just as soft, delicate.

“Of course,” his eyes flicker to you briefly. “Here’s hopin’ to many more trips together.”

Your heart swells, and you wonder if you might just get swept into the current of Joel Miller forever.

“Here’s to more trips together.” You repeat, solidifying his words into your soul.

You hope he’ll be happy with the news you have. You’re still hesitant about it, but right now, simple tender peace envelopes you right now in this moment.

“Love you, Miller. Happy early birthday.” You say half asleep as the exhaustion creeps in.

“Thanks baby, love y’too.” His voice floats in with the rain drops, and it's beautiful.

Your eyes glance out at the misty road blurring before you and how the rain paints the world in a water color soaked dream. Closing your eyes, you decide to get some sleep on this drive.

Maybe you will tell him about your surprise when you get home.

Then Joel’s phone buzzes.

From what you catch, it’s Tommy. Must be something about work because Joel’s voice low takes on his contractor big brother boss tone.

“Yeah, I’ll check it out when I get home.” He sighs annoyed, tired.

Joel’s been so busy this month. You even know how much it took for him to take time for this trip.

A heaviness weighs you down, and a slight edge of guilt follows. Maybe you’ll wait to tell him on his actual birthday. Surprise him with the little longhorn onesie you bought ready to show him and of course Sarah.

In the truck, you simply slip into the cocoon of crystalized peace here. You already dream of another beach trip, the next time maybe with a baby car seat in the back and Sarah happily cooing over her sibling…

And your hand holding Joel’s staring out at the road ahead, hopeful for this new path with him.

-

Sarah’s morning knock jolts you and Joel up wearily out of bed.

“Didn’t know we slept in so late.” Joel mutters, dragging you closer into his sleepy hold.

“Mhm, early birthday sex would do that to ya.” You reply with a grin.

Today’s the day.

“Happy birthday baby.” You whisper adoringly, pressing your lips to his, basking in this moment with him.

“Thanks sweetheart.” His warm sleepy voice drips molten sin, and it’s hard fighting the urge to call into work today and begging Joel to do the same.

The morning is eased, perfectly Joel. Sarah even cooks eggs for everyone and soon enough Tommy joins.

A part of you wants to blurt out your announcement now with all the Millers here, but then contract work again takes over the focus of the conversation. Then the weird news announcement about Jakarta shifted the conversation. But you try not to worry about it.

Today would be a good day.

It’s Joel’s day after all.

As Joel talks to his neighbors, Sarah makes an excuse about forgetting something then drags you off to the side.

“Dad’s gonna forget a cake, I just know it.” She sighs knowingly.

“Don’t worry, I’ll pick one up.” You reassure her warm.

She beams warm then hugs you tight.

Normally Joel drives you to work, but now with the mission of picking up the cake, you use the excuse of needing to stay late as to why you take your car.

Joel pouts but gives you a sweet see you later kiss.

Tommy almost seems to know something is up cause he winks knowingly at you.

It’s a soft morning, a rare beautiful day already with Austin traffic being somewhat manageable.

You happily reassure yourself you’ll tell Joel about the baby when you get home from work. You hope to

surprise him with a cake and then the little extra sweet announcement with it.

Still sitting in Austin traffic, the radio again discusses the news of Jakarta now going on lockdown. The somber tone sends a chill up your spine. You simply change the radio to another station.

You let your mind return to that possible dream of the road trips to come, and of the little onesie sitting in your work bag waiting.

Today is going to be a good day. You just know it.

[yeonbinwyd]

Can you do Heesung next? Thank you 🥹

of course!! rest of the hyung line next??

after party

pairing: sub fem!reader x softdom! heesung

synopsis: you had been friends with Heesung for some time. You always felt there was sexual tension between you two but he wouldn’t admit it. After one night out for an event turns into too much drinking, the truth comes out.

genre (w/tags): smut, minors dni, breeding kink, romantic?, mentions of alcohol.

a/n: I personally think heesung would be the biggest baby when drunk and begs for attention being all needy.

Word count: 1127

“Whats up with your phone? You’ve been blowing up all night.” You were at dinner with your best friend. She had asked in an irritated tone. “It’s just a friend. He’s super drunk right now and he wants to meet up” you explain.

“He??? Wants to meet up” she’s now intrigued.

“Stop he’s just a friend. I think he just needs some support. “ you continued. She pursed her lips together and shook her head. He was lucky you both were warping up dinner and were about to go separate ways. You two spilt the bill and went off your own ways. He had been in front of a boba shop that still open, hands in pockets, leaning against a bike rack. He was bright red, trying to cover his face until he saw you.

“Heeey” he coos “I’m so glad to see you! Let’s get some boba and something to eat! I’m starving.” Heesung requests throwing his arm over your shoulder. He puts his weight on you, standing over you. Managing him while drunk was going to be tough.

You listened to his request and got him his favorite tea with something solid to eat. When you brought them back to him, he was beyond excited, he even kissed your cheek.

“You’re a life saver! Thank you!! “ he doesn’t waste any time and takes them both in. You both sit outside since he was being obnoxiously loud but it was the one thing you really enjoyed about him.

“You know you’re the only one I really trust when I’m like this.”

He confesses. You’re not surprised since you haven’t drank once during the entire time of their friendship.

“I’m so glad you’re in my life.” He adds while taking a bite of his chicken. With furrowed brows you glance back at your phone, shoving off his comment. He scoots closer beside you.

“I mean it” he whispers in your ear, wrapping his arm around your waist. You can’t take him seriously and laugh in his face.

“You can’t be for real right?

“You don’t think I can be serious?” He asks while giving the saddest eyes.

“Not in the slightest. At least not while you’re drunk. “ you set him straight but he doesn’t want to give up. Heesung scoots even closer, leaning in to kiss your lips. You let him, tasting the taro tea he had been drinking lingering on his mouth. He cups your face, trying to deepen the kiss but you pull away.

“No wait” you stop him.

“Too much?” He backs away to give you space.

“No I like it. ” without a second thought, you grab his hand, causing him to leave his snacks where you two were sitting. You two get in the backseat of your car and continue the kiss. He smirks while pressing his lips on yours, feeling victorious. Heesung hugs your hips making you to sit on his lap. His kisses turn into little nibbles, caressing your collar, nuzzling in your neck. His glorious moans.

“I really feel at home with you.” He admits hugging you snug. You give him a shy smile but he can’t see you in the dark backseat. You grab his chin, smiling into the kiss. Heesung takes the hint and holds you closer. Him being drunk have him the courage to make a move. He just wanted to gush his feelings for you nonstop.

I can’t stop thinking about you.

I want you to be mine.

Can we be together?

All thoughts of his running through his head. As his tongue dominates the kiss, he starts to shed off his clothes, while you do the same. You take off your shirt, exposing your breasts to him. His eyes widen in excitement. Heesung rotates your hips to grind against him. Throwing his head back, exposing his Adams apple, he moans lowly. He grinds back, forcing you to groan in return. He starts to bury his face in your chest while placing kisses, worshiping them.

“Can I fuck you baby?” He begged, face still red and flush.

“Please” you beg in return. You get off his lap to have him undo his pants. His hard on, soaked in pre cum was ready for you. Lifting up your skirt then shifting your panties to the side, you glide down. You were equally as wet, wanting him for so long too. You cry out at his massive girth causing you to not move yet. Concerned, Heesung places kisses on your cheek.

“Take your time” he instructs. You don’t give up and prop your hands on his shoulders. He leans back against the car seat, as you take control. As you ride him, he looks almost in tears, overwhelmed with the pressure he’s received. He grips your hips, helping you move up and down. Each move, bringing him closer and closer. He spreads your ass cheeks for a better hold. It makes you even feel even better than before. Your eyes rolling back, nails digging into his skin, leaving indents, he feels so good you don’t want to stop.

“That’s it you’re doing well” he encourages. He loves looking up at you, taking his cock like a champ. He knew you were the one, it solidified it for him. He laid you flat on your side, lifting your leg up to get in better. He grunts as he enters, feeling overwhelmed with pleasure again. Heesung hugs your thigh, while thrusting in you. He sinks himself into your neck, close to your ear. He feels himself getting deeper and closer.

“I’m keeping you. You’re mine now.” He demands as his strokes become stronger and out of control. You can feel his cock hitting your cervix. He whines lowly while his cum begins to pour out. You can feel him feeling you up but he doesn’t stop there. Heesung lays you flat, with both legs over his shoulders. He takes you in again.

“Make me cum again baby. Make me cum for you.” He commands as he doesn’t lose his pace. You just trying to catch your breath. You panting and wipe the sweat from Heesung’s forehead. Infatuated with you, he kisses your lips, biting down as you both groan for each other.

“I’m close baby. Cum for me” you request.

“Yes I’ll do whatever you want.” He goes so fast that he makes you squirt on the two of you. He cums violently after. He holds onto, not wanting to let go and pull out. Heesung lays his head on your chest in the most needy way. Covered in sweat he helps you get dress and glances at the time. At this point the fucking made him sober up.

“So we should talk huh?” He brings up.

[a-writing-otter]

WIP Wednesday

“I can’t believe you fucked that old man.”

Bill’s head snaps up so quickly from where it was inside of the air duct that he smacks it on the metal internals. When he reappears cursing and rubbing at his head, there’s dust bunnies in his hair and clinging to his eyelashes.

“You can’t believe I what?”

“You fucked that old man,” Red repeats, feet up on the counter as she lazily reads something called “Lumberjack Layabouts Weekly.”

“I—“ And Bill lets out a grunt as he comes down from the ladder to slam his hands on the counter and lean into her space. The action does little to phase her other than make her look up.

“Neither of those things are right!”

Red takes a second to turn the page of her magazine, but doesn’t look away from Bill.

“That’s not what I heard.”

Bill’s eyes roll back into his skull for a second. He thinks of what he was told to do both by the therapium and Question Mark’s fiancée: deep breaths in and deep breaths out, count to ten, don’t visualize throttling them no matter how fucking annoying these fleshbags are.

“First of all, I’m older than him,” he begins, like that’s the important part.

“You don’t look it.”

“That’s because I take good care of myself.” Which is only partially true.

When the Axolotl and the entire therapism decided Bill’s methods of rehabilitation weren’t working, they’d sent him here. To hell.

…to earth.

Stripped of his powers, they’d shoved him into a meat suit that was an “appropriate approximation of his natural form” (Bill resents that statement entirely, but the appearance has grow on him). The dark skin and golden eyes are quite a contrast coupled with the golden hair offset by strays strands of grey or white hair. Melody has helped him figure out how to wash and maintain it, which is far more maintenance than he was expecting after watching Ford for years barely do anything more than occasionally wash it and wake up. Bill’s currently picking dust bunnies out of an individual lock, throwing them into the trashcan by the counter (like hell is he sweeping up in this damned place more than he has to).

He has it on good authority that this is a desirable fleshbag form, both from the open way that people compliment him and the way people stared. …he’s getting used to the staring and has stopped threatening to flay people alive who let their eyes linger too long.

Question Mark calls it progress; Bill calls it not wanting to see that haunted, barely contained disappointment on Melody’s face again. She is simultaneously the kindest and cruelest person he’s met on this plane. In spite of literally everyone’s reservations about Bill being on the same plane as the rest of these humans, she’d been willing to hear him out, offer him accommodations here at the Mystery Shack, and even provide a job if he could behave.

She also detailed to him with a sunshiney smile and no insignificant amount of knife waving that if Bill started anything, anything looking like world domination under her roof, not even the Axolotl would be able to save him.

If nothing else, she’s done more than a little to earn his respect and compliance than anyone else in this entire reality.

So, he’d gotten used to people staring and it doesn’t bother him.

At least, until one particular person started staring.

“Second of all, I didn’t—“ And he looks around, makes sure no hide or hair of thirteen year-old menace can be seen before he continues, “—fuck Sixer.”

Red closes the magazine entirely and shifts to take her feet off the counter and lean on it with her arms folded—this is what she’d wanted to hear.

“I heard Stan caught you two in the bathroom.”

Bill clears his throat and starts back up the ladder to avoid having to look at Red even as he feels something warm in his face.

“Stan doesn’t know what he saw.”

Red lets out a raucous laugh that makes Bill wince and wrinkle his nose as he sticks his head back in the vent to continue clearing it out.

“I heard that you two also got into a fistfight at dinner before that. Weird foreplay, but I can respect it.”

Everyone, mostly Question Mark and Shooting Star, have insisted on family dinners since both sets of Pines twins returned to Gravity Falls. And, somehow, Bill gets lumped into that because he sleeps in the Shack (specifically, the sofa in the living room because everywhere else is off-limits). It’s been three weeks and most everything has been simpatico, Shooting Star was the fastest to warm up after her initial talk too of “unspeakable horrors” she’ll unleash on him if he steps a toe out of line. The fact that he’s powerless seems to make her willing to humor him.

…also something about him looking like a wet rat? And it was a good thing? Bill didn’t ask. Or, rather, he had asked and she brushed him off and because he knew Stanley will flay him alive if he lays a finger on either niece or nephew, he let it go.

Pine Tree has been a lot more hesitant in his behavior, sure, but he’s recently started being in the same room with Bill and musing aloud in ways that Bill knows are directed at him without talking to him. Pine Tree will state something stupid about the state of the town and when Bill corrects him, he’ll scribble it down, go silent, then rinse and repeat.

Stan has been… well, they were avoiding each other without problem. The closest they get to a conversation is when they’re both sitting in the living room after everyone else has gone to bed and before Stan goes to his bed and Bill passes out on the sofa. Their talk is a roundabout back and forth about complaining about what’s on the television and saying there’s “never anything good on”. Occasionally Bill will liken something on the screen to something he’s seen on television in other dimensions, Stan will grunted, and then they go back to silence.

They’ve also worked out a system where they’re allies in their silent agreement to watch The Duchess Approves as long as no one else finds out about it.

…and then there’s Ford.

They haven’t been in the same room as each other outside of dinner even remotely. Bill doesn’t look at him, Ford doesn’t acknowledge him, and it’s fine.

It’s fine.

It doesn’t bother him even a little that Ford won’t even look at him, won’t talk to him. Doesn’t bother him that when Bill does talk, he rolls his eyes. It doesn’t bother him either that Ford gets up every time Bill enters the room even for a moment. It’s not like he cares about the asshole or wants to see him. It’s fine for Bill.

Fine, fine, fine, fine, fine.

And because it is so fine, he’s not sure what exactly caused him to get mouthy with Sixer the night before.

Ford had made some inane comment and Bill couldn’t help but correct him. Over a trillion years in the multiverse, he knows when he’s right about something.

Ford bit back.

And Bill argued against.

It’d devolved into a petty back-and-forth, both of them digging their claws in places it shouldn’t go without caring for the carnage it spread.

It ended when Bill called Ford “my shining star” like this was just a philosophical disagreement thirty-one years prior.

He shouldn’t have done that.

The next thing Bill knew, he and Ford were rolling on the ground, fists flying and snarling at one another. Ford caught him in the nose, Bill punched him in the mouth, both of them scratching and pulling hair like a pair of animals.

It took Stanley and Soos both to pull them apart, both of them still swinging until they were forced to calm down.

After that, Bill had left his unfinished dinner to sit on the roof and wait out everyone else’s dinner. It was only because the blood wouldn’t stop flowing from his nose while the blood on his knuckles had dried uncomfortably to the point he kept accidentally ripping it when he flexed his hand that convinced him to go downstairs.

He’s still figuring out this whole human thing and, yeah, he was fumbling with the tape and his nose was dripping all over everything and he was fighting not to get it on the stupid sweater he got from Shooting Star and—

That’s how Ford found him.

There were no words as he crowded into the small bathroom with him, took off his gloves, and started to doctor Bill.

Neither of them say that there’s something familiar about this, them being together while cleaning up blood and puss and setting bones, usually injuries inflicted on Ford by Bill. There’s probably something funny about the idea of it being the other way around now.

They’re both too tired or embarrassed to say anything for awhile, but then Ford makes an innocuous statement that raises Bill’s hackles and there goes the peace. Then they’re shoving and pushing into a wall, Bill effectively having Ford cornered against it, chest-to-chest, spitting in each other’s faces, and then—

Then they were decidedly not fighting.

“Yeah, well, Fordsy is a know-it-all prick who doesn’t actually know everything,” Bill defends. “He started the fight.”

“That’s not what I heard,” Red replies in a singsong voice.

“And who’s telling you this?!”

“Don’t worry about it.” Red goes quiet for a moment, but he knows she’s still staring at him. “Did you two really make out though?”

Bill is quiet, can’t quite find the words he wants to say about this. Was his tongue in Ford’s mouth? Yes. Were Ford’s hands in his hair? Also yes. Did Stan walk in while Bill’s hand was halfway down the front of Ford’s pants? Regrettably.

“It was a… heat of the moment thing.”

“Wow. I mean, I knew you two were something back then, but I figured you two had, you know, moved past that.”

Bill doesn’t respond for awhile, leaning back to sweep the dust into the garbage bag he’s holding.

“So did I.”