#THEY DID IT. THEY FINALLY FORCED TWO GUYS WHO'D NEVER MET

[liesonthefloordramatically]

incredible news, everyone

[loftylockjaw]

TIMING: Current LOCATION: Wicked's Rest General Hospital PARTIES: Wyatt (@loftylockjaw) & Charlie (@zombiebabysitter) SUMMARY: As soon as he hears that Charlie is in the hospital, Wyatt rushes there. Two two have a very open, honest discussion with each other, and Wyatt might finally have found what he's been looking for. CONTENT WARNINGS: just your garden variety hospital talk!

—

Finn had left.

Charlie remembered what he had said to him as he lay dying in the middle of a forest and Finn left. He wasn’t surprised, he always knew that that’s not what their relationship would ever be, but by god if it didn’t hurt like hell. He had lived the nightmare a thousand times in his mind, ranging from Finn accepting it to downright disgusted with him. Reality hurt so much worse, knowing that he’d ruined their friendship forever. He was an idiot. Charlie frowned and let the nurses flutter about his useless form. They asked if he felt pain as he looked so sad, but all he could do was shake his head. He was nothing now. He just wanted to be alone, but such a thing was impossible when he was hooked up to this many wires and machines. 

The nurses had finally left him alone when someone bust through the door. Hoping that it was Finn changing his mind or to say something, Charlie cracked open an eye, far more desperate than he wished to appear. But it wasn’t Finn. It was Wyatt. Charlie blinked. “How did you…” he looked over to the phone discarded on the side table beside the hospital bed. “Oh.” He said simply, trying not to be disappointed that it was Wyatt. 

“You didn't need to show up, I’d have come back eventually.” He tried to say, voice still scratchy and hoarse from the extubation. “I… they told me I almost didn’t wake up.” He finally admitted, looking down at his hands. “Got stabbed by a zombie. A demon zombie.” The anger started to build in him again. “Said he didn’t care enough to know if he killed my friends or not.” Charlie’s hands balled into tight fists. “He might have done it, Wyatt. I might have come face to face with the guy who killed my friends.”

The raw emotion in Charlie’s voice was enough to force him to shut his mouth, misty eyes looking away from his friend. He looked so worried, and it was all Charlie’s fault. “Turns out going on a walk for your mental health is a bad thing, you get fucking stabbed.” He decided, silently vowing to never go on another walk ever again. 

—

This was becoming an unsettling pattern, Charlie texting something ominous and vague to Wyatt with no follow up, and Wyatt taking off to find out what had happened. He’d be annoyed by it if he wasn't more worried than he cared to admit, grabbing his car keys and making the drive through the woods and across town to the hospital. 

With a guest sticker slapped on his shirt, Wyatt made his way to the floor and room number that reception had given him, chewing the inside of his cheek as he hovered in the hallway for a moment. His gaze met that of one of the nurses at the desk, who rose from her chair to come speak with him. He glanced into the room as she told him what was going on, or at least as much as she could considering he wasn't family, and then she was telling him he could go in. 

Suddenly he wasn't sure that he wanted to. Charlie hadn't asked him to come, and he wasn’t… emotionally available in the ways that someone who'd been hospitalized would probably need. All he knew was how to hurt and flirt, what did he know of comfort? Ah, fuck… the nurse was looking at him expectantly. He nodded, uncertain, and took a step into the room, his gaze fixed on the figure in the bed. He stopped, took a breath, then started again. 

Charlie peeked at him and spoke, and Wyatt hovered awkwardly at the bedside, still a full two strides away. “I know,” he muttered softly, now wishing he'd just stayed in the hall. But Charlie was going on, telling him what had happened, unprompted, and it filled the shifter with dread. “A.. what? Hey, okay…” He stepped closer, his fingers sliding over the plastic banister of the bed and gripping it tightly. “Slow down, man.” A demon zombie? What did that even mean? “Take it easy, just… take a breath. You were attacked?” By a zombie, but one that could talk. Huh. “But no, you shouldn't go walkin’ ‘round the woods here alone. I coulda gone with you.” He frowned, brow furrowed. He could have protected Charlie from whoever had done this. His talent for violence could have been put to good use. 

—

Stuck in that bed, Charlie felt useless. He was stuck there because of all the wires and drips, and all he wanted was to run back to the scene and find that bastard. He wanted to kill him, he wanted justice. No. This wasn’t justice, this was revenge. He would cut down the zombie the same way he cut down his friends. Charlie closed his eyes, desperately trying to control the rage that was bubbling up inside him. He couldn’t do anything as a human. He was useless, and his friends would never get the revenge they so greatly deserved. So much had happened so fast that it felt like his life was diving straight for land without a parachute.

Wyatt was trying to calm him down, and Charlie knew his friend was right. He needed to fucking breathe, something that only made him angrier to think about, but did it anyway. “Yeah, I know.” He grumbled, clenching his jaw as he tried to refocus himself. “Taller than us, Light brown curly hair, blue eyes. Light facial hair.” Charlie’s brow furrowed as he struggled to remember more details about the man. It was all a blur, he was having trouble remembering. Had he gotten a name? He couldn’t remember. Then, he remembered. “Caleb!” He blurted out, the anger escaping with the name.

“Stabbed me in the side,” Charlie explained, trying to gesture to the stab wound, but finding that he was in too much pain to do so. “Yeah, I learned that now,” Charlie responded, defeated. “I fucked up, dude. I fucked up big.” Charlie buried his face in his hands and let out a frustrated groan before rubbing his hands down his face. “I called Finn. Finn was freaking out, I was convinced I was going to die, and I… kinda told him the truth about everything.” Charlie let his head fall back onto the pillow, mentally beating himself up all over again. 

“I kinda wish I did bite it, that way I wouldn’t have to deal with the fucking embarrassment of it all,” Charlie muttered, staring up at the ceiling. “I, uh. Appreciate you showing up, man. Means a lot.” He then spoke, looking over to Wyatt and offering a tired and barely-there smile. “Sorry for… interrupting your day with shit news?” He then offered, though it came out more like a question than an apology. “Gotta stop texting you in bad situations.” He admitted, an embarrassed grin on his face. 

—

The description was doing little to settle Wyatt’s nerves about the whole thing, and then came the name. Caleb? Caleb had— “Stabbed you?” He asked stupidly. It was less of a question and more of a statement of disbelief, his blue eyes following his friend’s gesture to his side and his stomach twisting up in knots. Charlie was saying something about Finn, about admitting things (what things? he couldn’t remember right now, his thoughts were too stuck on Caleb stabbing his friend. what the fuck?) that he regretted, and then he was cracking wise. Smirking, deflecting his own physical and emotional pain with humor, much like Wyatt would’ve, but the lamia was still stuck on the first part. 

“Yeah,” he said numbly. “Yeah… next one better be… good news.” He glanced around the room for a chair, spotting one against the wall at the foot of the bed. Moving to grab it, Wyatt dragged it over to the bedside and plopped down, running a hand through his hair. He couldn’t… handle the whole Caleb aspect of this right now, especially not while Charlie was still hurt and mad about it, so he decided to focus elsewhere. 

“Sorry, you said you called Finn? What happened? You told him that you… like him?” It shouldn’t have stung, but it did. He had no right to be hurt by it, but he was. Whatever.

—

Charlie nodded his head quietly when he realized that Wyatt wasn’t following as he kept talking a mile a minute, deciding to take this as Wyatt’s speed instead of his own. “Yeah. Fuckin’ looked me in the eyes and stabbed me.” Charlie confirmed, pointing a finger to his heavily bandaged side. He watched Wyatt’s expression, realizing that there were some gears turning behind those eyes. “Fuck, you know him, don’t you?” He accused the other, sitting up in the bed and wincing a bit. He blinked, and then Wyatt was covering it all up with a layer of ‘fine.’ But Charlie knew him and liked to think he knew him pretty damn well.

“I’ll… do my best,” Charlie responded, slumping back down into the bed and watching as Wyatt dragged a seat over to sit beside him. “I told Finn that I… had feelings for him, and it scared him off.” He spoke, staring down at his hands. “I was an idiot.” He buried his face into his hands, letting out a noise of frustration. “So I’ve lost a friend, I’ve been stabbed and now you’re here to watch me fall apart.” Charlie’s voice cracked as he spoke, blinking as he stared into space, knowing that if he looked over to Wyatt he'd crumble apart like a house of cards.

“I’m tired of losing people.” He finally admitted, looking over to Wyatt, big brown eyes staring into his friend. “I’ve lost everyone, but… but you.” He realized, giving a sad smile. “So, thanks for not ditching my ass. I think I’d lose my fucking mind, actually.” Charlie decided as he went back to slumping back in the bed. “I, uh. You matter to me.” He decided, not knowing if that would scare off Wyatt too. But he decided that he’d rather scare off Wyatt too than have another person abandon him. “So run now if that scares you too much.” He grumbled, closing his eyes and crossing his arms over his chest.

—

The accusation had only been met with a soft shake of his head. One thing at a time, he’d silently asked of Charlie, compartmentalizing the fact that Caleb, who had seemed different the last time they’d seen each other (and who he hadn’t spoken to since) was capable of such a thing. Even if he was different… still. Just stabbing someone? That didn’t make sense. Even if Wyatt had been a bad influence, it just… it didn’t make sense. 

Anger flared in his chest at the suggestion that Finn might’ve hung up on Charlie after he’d spoken his truth, especially if Charlie had thought he was dying. “You’re not an idiot, shut up,” he countered. His frown softened before he spoke again, watching Charlie resign himself to another friend abandoning him as he leaned back in the bed, closed his eyes, and settled into a defensive position. “And you’re not gonna lose me.” He knew he wasn’t the most… well. He knew what kind of a person he was, but he also knew that Charlie was the only person in his life that knew everything about him. Actually everything, not the lies he often told to make himself appear more… palatable. So he owed it to Charlie to be better, didn’t he? To be there for him in a way that Wyatt had never tried before, because he’d never cared enough about anyone to want to. But he didn’t want to lose this friendship either, not now that he’d been so fucking… honest about it. “I’m not runnin’ anywhere, got it? You matter to me too.” He scooted the chair closer, folding his arms and resting them on top of the handrail of the bed, followed by his chin. After a short beat of silence, the shifter extended one arm out over Charlie’s lap, palm up. “I mean it.”

—

Narrowing his eyes a touch as Wyatt decided to come back to Charlie’s accusatory statement, he rolled his eyes but nodded his head in agreement. It rubbed him the wrong way, knowing that Wyatt possibly knew this person. But deciding to let it lie for Wyatt’s own sanity, Charlie forced himself not to ruminate on it. If he wanted to talk about it, he would.

Charlie frowned as Wyatt told him he wasn’t an idiot. He sure felt like it. And Finn had stayed with him every step of the way after he’d said it and then passed out on him. He’d confessed his feelings to Finn while bleeding out on him. What the fuck was wrong with him? Charlie squeezed his eyes shut, shaking his head. He felt like the world’s biggest jerk, flipping Finn’s life upside down like that. “He came to my location, and I… thought that was it, y’know?” He shrugged his shoulders weakly, staring up at the ceiling as he recounted the experience. “He stayed with me, he… and then when I remembered what I did, he left.” Charlie groaned, throwing his head back. “Dude has my fuckin’ car keys now.” He realized, squeezing his eyes shut. He wanted to be out of the hospital and back at home. 

Taking in Wyatt’s words, Charlie began to blink, what… did that mean? “I… yeah. Me too.” Charlie responded, reaching out and taking Wyatt’s hand, squeezing it weakly. He felt weird, not knowing what that meant for either of them. Wyatt wasn’t leaving him, but now they’d told each other… well, all that. “I know that’s not what was supposed to happen. Feelings.” He let go of Wyatt’s hand to wiggle his fingers in the air, a tired smile on his face. He felt like he went a round with a chainsaw. And lost. He groaned, leaning back in bed as pain radiated through his side. “What’s that mean?” He then asked, unsure where this left them. Felt better to talk about it then let it sit. He wasn’t sure what he wanted that to mean. Did he want it to mean something? No, he should… he was literally just telling Wyatt about Finn. Wyatt and he had a good time, and he loved the guy, but as a friend. He would always be at his side if it was asked of him.

—

Okay, so the situation hadn’t happened exactly as he’d imagined it. That was… good. Yeah. Probably. It made it less easy to be angry with Finn, but definitely not impossible. Wyatt decided at that moment that if it’d been him, he wouldn’t have bailed. Whether or not that was true was very much an unknown, as again… he’d never been faced with this kind of situation before. And he’d definitely never been faced with the situation Finn had been in. People just didn’t do that with him. He’d felt romantic love before, but reciprocity was all but foreign to him. It never got there, it always ended with a goodbye instead. And for all the times he’d said it was fine, that he didn’t want a relationship, Wyatt was actually almost never the one to make that decision. People walked away from him all the time. He knew what loss felt like. So he just listened to Charlie finish explaining, quietly nodding his head. He wasn’t sure what was the right thing to say anyway, and since he was so spectacular at saying the wrong thing, he figured silence was probably his best friend right now. 

That is, until Charlie asked him something directly. His friend wanted clarity. It wasn’t a clarity Wyatt was sure he could provide. Rolling some words around in his head, the shifter took his hand back and tucked his forearm beneath his chin, appearing thoughtful (a rare sight in its own right). First things first, though… 

“That’s all right. Feelin’s happen, sometimes.” That felt like a loaded statement. His distant gaze refocused as he flicked it back up to meet Charlie’s, holding there for a moment in quiet contemplation. “And it means… whatever it needs to mean.” Non committal, as was his way. Perhaps to the point of self-sabotage. Wyatt could try to argue and say that it was selfless, considering the Finn of it all, and while that wasn’t untrue… It was a fear of the unknown that really forced him to hold his tongue. Maybe there would be a time and a place to be more honest with Charlie and with himself, but here in this hospital room, neither of those things could be found. “You got a lot to think about,” he added quietly, lifting his head again and leaning back into his seat. So did he. His thoughts wandered back to Caleb, and he frowned. He was going to have to talk to him, wasn’t he? Fuck.

—

Charlie stared into space for a long time, letting the silence take him over and seep into his marrow. He didn’t know what to say. While he had feelings, they weren’t the only ones he had. It was a confusing and downright annoying feeling that he wanted to shove away like with everything else in his life. He opened his mouth to speak when a nurse came in to check on Charlie and give him medication. He inwardly sighed in relief, glad that the moment was interrupted so he wouldn’t have to think about it any longer. The silence spread further as the nurse passed him his meds and he took them quickly, eyes darting around anywhere but Wyatt. It was easier that way. It was just like what Finn had done to him hours before. 

“Yeah, I do.” He finally admitted after the nurse left. “And I’ve got nothing to do but fuckin’ sit here and brood about it too, so.” He shrugged his shoulders helplessly. “Think of me when you’re freely walking out of the hospital and not hooked up to wires.” He spoke, voice a fake forlorn tone, desperate to lighten the mood in whatever way he possibly could. 

“I just… know that he’ll eventually want to talk. We’ve been close for over ten years, you know? I… don’t think I want to be alone when that happens.” He admitted, looking over to Wyatt with an unspoken question for him to help him out if the time ever came. “I’m stupid when it comes to him, I know I’ll get myself more hurt than I started out with, so if you could just shut me up before that happens, I’d greatly appreciate it.” 

—

“Don’t worry, I will. N’ I’ll make sure I do aaaaaaaaall  the things you can’t right now… for the both of us!”

Was Charlie asking him to help when it came time for a conversation with Finn? Seriously? Wyatt would have protested, but had to acknowledge the fact that he’d been cagey and vague about… everything. And Charlie wasn’t saying that he wanted Wyatt to help fix things there, but just to shut him up before he put himself through needless pain. 

Hm. Now that he thought more about it, that was something Wyatt could do. It felt shitty to know that Charlie’s concern arose from a place of such… affection for Finn, but whatever. He could just pretend that wasn’t the case, as he did with most things. “Yeah, man. I can do that,” he agreed with a forced smile. He’d stop Charlie from saying a goddamn thing, is what he would do. Make ol’ Finnyboy explain himself for being such a coward—hm, maybe not. That might appeal to Charlie’s better nature, if it was anything like a sob story. Nah, he’d be there. And he’d be sure to keep the whole thing as prickly as possible. He’d make sure to remind Charlie how much he hurt right now, and not let time heal that wound. If it was fresh in his mind, he’d be less likely to say something stupid.  Less likely to do something that would make Wyatt wonder what the fuck was wrong with him, why he was always second best to so many people.

But he wasn’t thinking about that right now! Nope. That was a future Wyatt problem.

—

Charlie was trying to stay present in the conversation, he was. But every time he blinked, he saw Gareth behind his eyelids. He saw that sweet man who just wanted Charlie to flourish. The man that Charlie had never wanted, but settled for anyway. God, he was an asshole. Charlie squeezed his eyes shut and groaned, burying his face in his hands. All this time, he’d been so stupid. “I… am a needy bastard.” He told Wyatt, shaking his head. “I don’t think you’re down to be with someone as fucked up as me.” He admitted, the light and zest for life completely zapped out of his eyes. “You’re… hot as fuck, great to talk to, I feel like we clicked instantly. But me? I’m running from a monster that I can’t outrun.” Charlie looked positively haunted when he said those words, curling up in on himself in the bed. 

He closed his eyes again, and he saw Lindz and Vik’s happy smiles. He was celebrating his 28th birthday with them. They were alive and full of life, both hugging Charlie close in a weird hug that had caused him to burst into laughter. He loved his friends, they were his everything. They were… gone. They weren’t coming back. More than anything, Charlie wanted to be loved. He wanted to be cared for, he wanted what his friends had once given him. When they died, it had been stripped away from him and forced him to look at the raw parts of himself. He didn’t like what he saw. 

“I’m broken parts,” Charlie finally said as he opened his eyes to look at Wyatt, feeling small and dirty. “You don’t want this.” Charlie shook his head, certain that he was correct in his words, spiraling faster than his mind could keep up with. It should have been him dead in that graveyard from zombies. Not his friends. It should have been him to bite the dust, and his friends to continue on in his memory. Not them. A tear escaped his eyes, and Charlie felt the grief crash upon him like a tsunami. He had been holding it back ever since the night they died. And now? Now he couldn’t hold it in any longer.

—

Wyatt listened quietly until Charlie seemed finished, until the tears came and he looked overcome with the weight of everything that had happened to him lately. 

It was an expression that Wyatt had become very familiar with over the last few months, seeing it each time he looked in the mirror. Each time he was alone, desperate and grasping for any kind of connection only to find emptiness, his eyes always found themselves in a reflective surface. What’s wrong with me? he’d thought. He still thought that, especially now. Especially as Charlie tried to push him away, tried to discount whatever it was that they’d had going on since that day his friend had pulled him out of a pit in the woods by throwing himself under the bus. 

But what did that say about Wyatt? That Finn was good enough, but he wasn’t? That Finn could handle needy, broken parts, but he could not? 

He looked down at his lap, chewing his bottom lip for a moment before speaking. 

“Broken parts. Yeah… me too.” A pause. A soft inhale, eyes rising to meet Charlie’s gaze. “Do you think that’s why we’re unlovable?” The hurt was clear now. It flashed across his features like a deer leaping across a country road, illuminated for a split second by headlights, then gone again. He shook his head, looking away. “I said I wouldn’t go anywhere, and I won’t… unless you want me to. If you don’t want me here, I’ll leave.”

—

When Wyatt agreed that he was broken too, Charlie’s hand shot out and grabbed Wyatt’s hand, eyes serious and focused. “You are not unlovable.” He told him, eyes boring into Wyatt’s. “You’re…” he didn’t know what to say. “I mean, I thought you weren’t… interested in something like that. I mean. Monogamy.” Charlie wiggled his fingers, as if the idea was a mystical idea. 

Charlie let go of Wyatt’s hand, relaxing back into the bed, feeling restricted with all the wires and IVs. “I just think you could do better than someone doomed by the narrative, ya know?” He sighed, thinking of the day he inevitably died and became a zombie. 

Finn didn’t want him, how could Wyatt? How could anyone? He let his friends die. “So much fucking better,” he muttered under his breath before he shifted in the bed and made a grunt of pain. “Shit, this sucks.” 

—

“It’s fine,” Wyatt lied. It wasn’t fair of him to be upset. He’d never acted like a real relationship was something that he’d wanted, so it wasn’t like it was Charlie’s fault for not knowing. Hell, he didn’t even know himself. He didn’t know what he wanted. He didn’t know what he was capable of. He didn’t know how he could ever have something like that, considering the life that he lived. Whoever he was with would only worry about him, and how was that fair? 

It wasn’t. He wanted something, maybe, or he at least wanted something that resembled stability so that he could not feel alone, but he couldn’t have it. Not while the Grit Pit had him by the short hairs. 

“I don’t think you’re doomed,” Wyatt said quietly. “I think you got pretty shit fucking hand, but there’s still something beyond the door, you know?” There was eternity beyond the door, a concept that was too abstract for a mind like Wyatt’s. “It’s what you make of it that matters. I think you… I think you could still have a lot of good things behind that door.” A pause. “Maybe in front of it, too.” This wasn’t fair of him. He knew it. He knew it. “I just wanna… I…” The shifter sucked in a breath. “No one else knows shit about me like you do. I’ve never… told anyone. Never let them in like that. I don’t know what that means, and I don’t know what I want. But I just… the only thing I do know is that I want you… to be… happy. Or as close to it as folks like us can get.” He offered his friend a somber smile. He meant it, of course he did, but he was being selfish about it, too. Whatever path Charlie decided to walk, Wyatt knew he would be selfish about it. 

—

Sitting in silence after Wyatt spoke, Charlie was unsure of himself. He was unsure of his future, unsure of his own path in things, but he knew one thing; he wanted Wyatt in his life. If he said no to him romantically, would that mean a life without him in it forever? Charlie didn’t want that. He wanted Wyatt in his life. Wyatt was keeping him afloat after the death of his bandmates, of his best friends. A life without Wyatt in it wasn’t a life he wanted. He wouldn’t lose anyone else, no matter what that meant. So without saying another word, Charlie scooted over to one side of the bed and patted the now free space beside him. 

“I’m happy you told me how you’re feeling,” Charlie said gently as he watched Wyatt, gaze gentle and sincere. When Wyatt settled beside Charlie in the bed, Charlie leaned his head against Wyatt’s shoulder and took a deep breath. He wasn’t sure what Wyatt wanted, and it wasn’t a call Charlie could make for him. “You’ve been there for me when others weren’t. You offered me a place to stay, you told me your truth when I thought that I was living in some life alone that no one else could understand. But you… you got it. You understand what it’s like to be different in a world where difference just isn’t okay.”

Charlie lifted his head from Wyatt’s shoulder, a thoughtful look on his face as gears in his head began to turn. “I want you in my life, however that looks. However you want it to look.” Charlie decided, turning his head to face the shifter. “But I’m not going to push you into something that’s too far for you.” Charlie decided. “You need to be the one to make that decision, not me.” He put a hand to his chest, emphasizing his point. 

The truth of the matter was that his relationship with Gareth was a sham. He always knew it to be true. He was with Gareth because he knew he was in love with someone he could never have. It turned into love eventually, but that didn’t stop Charlie from feeling like one son of a bitch about it. Charlie had tunnel vision for Finn. There was no good reason for it, Finn never reciprocated those feelings. And yet, it had always been that way. But the idea of letting Wyatt walk away, it didn’t sit right with him. For the first time, there was someone in his life that wanted him. For the first time, Charlie had someone he wanted that wanted him back. “But… if you did want something serious, my answer… would be yes.” He finally decided, brown eyes glued to Wyatt’s.

—

He wasn’t sure what his goal was, here. Maybe he was just tired of being alone. Maybe he was feeling possessive, even though Finn had known Charlie longer, because Wyatt was the one sharing his bed, wasn’t he? He was the one trying to fill all the gaps that had been left in the wake of Charlie’s friends being gone, the one agreeing to all the stupid, dangerous ideas… all with a smile. And he did like the way Charlie would look at him sometimes, like he saw something that no one else did. He liked how Charlie would be there when he woke from a nightmare after failing to stay awake, telling him that everything was okay, that he was okay. He needed to hear it more than he realized, most nights. 

So he thought hard as he sat there on the bed beside his friend, feeling the weight of the other’s head upon his shoulder. You need to be the one to make that decision, not me. He’d never been faced with such a decision before. Things had always gone… unspoken, until they were spoken, at which point the other person walked away. But Charlie was asking him to decide, not asking him if anything they’d been doing even fucking mattered. He wasn’t shouting, he wasn’t crying, and he wasn’t telling Wyatt to get lost. He wasn’t telling him that he’d text him, when they both knew that was a lie. This wasn’t an ultimatum, it was just a question. 

He felt confused. People didn’t ask him questions without freaking out afterward. He didn’t want that. But… Charlie was saying yes. Without knowing Wyatt’s answer, his friend was saying yes. 

This was heavy. This was untrodden territory, and Wyatt didn’t particularly love the unknown aspect of it. But how much would change, he wondered? He would still come home after fights needing a little r&r, and Charlie would still be there to help. He would still crawl into the other’s bed in the middle of the night seeking comfort in touch, only maybe now they wouldn’t need separate bedrooms. He didn’t know. He didn’t know about any of this, except for the certainty that he didn’t want the man’s presence in his life to diminish. 

So it seemed like there was only one answer, and the lamia nodded his head. He lifted his gaze to find Charlie, the soulful brown doe-eyes staring back at him bringing an abrupt and genuine grin to his face. “Yeah… mine would be too,” he agreed. “Or. It is—uh.” He gave a shake of his head, chuckling at himself. “You know what I mean.”

—

Wyatt answered Charlie’s request, and it shocked him. Instead of claiming he had to leave, he stayed. He sat there next to Charlie and smiled at him. He stayed, and he looked into his eyes and for once, Charlie felt like someone wanted to stay with him. For once, things weren’t being ripped out of his grasp before he was ready to let go. For once, he had something. He had someone. Charlie blinked, an equally as genuine smile melting onto his face as he leaned forward to press his forehead against Wyatt’s.

“You’ve always got somewhere you belong with me, you got that?” Charlie told the other, keeping his head against the other’s. “I don’t care what you do or that your normal form isn’t this.” Charlie squeezed at Wyatt’s arms, rolling his eyes. “You deserve someone that sees the real you and accepts that. I’m sorry that… I’m the first person you felt you could trust with this.”

His gaze fell downward as he thought about that night at the grit pit, of how he’d almost been strangled because that handler had realized that Wyatt and Charlie cared about each other. They’d only been back in each other’s lives for a month, but it felt like that month was enough to give Charlie the care and attention that he needed to not let the world fall apart from underneath him. 

It was strange to talk like this with Wyatt, to be intimate with someone whom Charlie had assumed wasn’t interested in anything like that. “Just know that I don’t… share well.” Charlie decided, knowing that he had to lay down that law before they took another step forward in the direction they were heading down. “Like, at all.” Charlie lay back into the bed properly, suddenly feeling the exhaustion of the day’s events hitting him. He closed his eyes, feeling the pain in his side where he’d been stabbed. 

His brows furrowed at the pain, wincing and hissing in pain as he tried to move. “Shit, this hurts.” He admitted, letting his eyes open to stare into the hospital room, not toward Wyatt. “I almost fucking died, huh?” He finally let it hit him, that Finn had watched his friend be intubated and told that Charlie may not wake up. There was a chance that he would have turned into a zombie there and then. “Fuck.” He croaked, reaching up to pinch the bridge of his nose. 

All those things he’d been doing to feel alive, they’d been furthering him closer to a fate he wasn’t sure he wanted any part in. Did he want to be a zombie or did he want to live out as much of his human life as he possibly could? He wasn’t sure. What he was sure of, was that he had someone willing to stand by him when the one person in the world thought would stand by him had abandoned him. Finn left him there and didn’t come back. But Wyatt? Wyatt showed up. He had continually showed up when Charlie needed him. So instead of words, Charlie just took Wyatt’s hand and squeezed it. They didn’t need words. Not right now.

—

Giving a gentle shrug of his shoulders, Wyatt tried not to think too much about how Charlie was the first person in recent memory that knew all his stupid little facets… more or less. Being a lamia, being a contracted fighter, eating people with some regularity to keep himself well fed… the latter might have been sugarcoated a little bit, but it wasn’t like what he’d said to Caleb, that he didn’t make a habit of it. Yes he fuckin’ did. 

Right. Caleb. The memory soured his stomach, knowing that even though they hadn’t spoken since that night and things could pretty much be considered done… he’d stabbed Charlie. Why the fuck had he stabbed Charlie? It was a question he needed answered, straight from the horse’s mouth, but it wasn’t a conversation he wanted to initiate. Whatever. He could think about that later. Focus.  

“Yeah… I figured,” he answered softly in response to the boundary Charlie had put in front of him. He thought first of Kieran, and it made his throat tighten. It was fine. That wasn’t—it wasn’t like that, it was just fun. Just very…. therapeutic fun. He could find other ways to supplement that, right? Right. He totally could. Wyatt glanced over at Charlie, and found himself hoping that this would be worth it. Hoping that having someone who liked him for who he really was would help… fix him, maybe. He was so tired of hiding. And tired of being tired, frankly. He slept better when Charlie was around. 

“You sure did. Be careful, I hear that’s bad for your health,” Wyatt quipped, wrapping an arm around Charlie’s shoulders with care. His hand was grasped as they settled in beside one another, and the lamia leaned his head back against the bed, looking up at the ceiling. 

He still didn’t feel great, but he felt better than before. More secure. Less like his life was falling apart around him. Yeah… this was nice. He could get used to it, he thought.

[rikumorimachisgirl]

Title: Rules in Love

So, I wrote another fic for @voltagefandomproject for anyone who wants to read it.

Pairing: Dr. Kasumi x Reader (where reader is not the MC in the series)

Rating: Fluff

Word count: ~1k

Summary: So, it didn't work out between Dr. Kasumi and his ex. Take a peek at what the dark emperor is like when he re-enters the dating scene.

Notes: This has nothing to do with the original series, it was just a plunny I had playing in my head one evening. I don't own Voltage or any of its characters, but I own the idea for this fic.

It's a sunny Saturday morning and the two of you are finally on your way to watch the Baystars in their home court in Yokohama. You haven't been there in a while, but the stadium is very special to you; after all, that was where he took you on your first official date - the date that almost got canceled at the last minute because of a hospital schedule mix-up. 

As you cruise along the tree-lined road leading out of the city, you steal a glance at your dashing date. Why, if you ever told anyone that you were out with Dr. Toshiki Kasumi, in his white European sedan, listening to K-pop songs on your way to a baseball game, they'd probably think you're nuts. But there you are, sitting in the passenger's seat, watching him tap his finger on the steering wheel while listening to an upbeat song from one of your favorite girl groups. 

"I'm pretty sure there are more interesting sights to look at," he says, pulling you out of your reverie. 

Your lips stretch into a big smile. Even when he's driving, he's paying attention to every little thing you do. "You're right. There are a lot of wonderful sights around," you respond. "And I've decided that you're the most wonderful of all."

He smirks, unsure of how to respond. That's another thing you adore about him - the fact that he's cool and collected, and always certain when it comes to anything related to the medical field, but is tentative and awkward when it comes to love. 

Seeing that the tips of his ears turn a darker shade of red, you decide to change the topic. You shift in your seat. "So," you say, clearing your throat. "Did all go smoothly when you operated on that big-shot celebrity whose name you wouldn't disclose?"

He glances sideways at you and smiles. "We don't talk about work when we're out on a date, right?"

You smile back at him and nod. That was another thing you adore about him - he's always a stickler for the rules. You think back to the night you met him at The Pen a little over twelve weeks ago, at a mixer, which the two of you - apparently - were both forced to join. Even when he seemed uninterested, he didn't leave your side. At the end of the event, he tells you he'd just broken up with someone he dated at work, and that he was following the three-month rule. You thought he was joking and handed him your card, telling him to call you when his penance was over. He called you a week later. "The three-month rule is over," he declared and proceeded to ask if you wanted to watch a baseball game with him. 

Since then, you've seen him quite a few times. You've visited museums, theme parks, the cinema, and even the oceanarium. You've cooked together in his apartment and he toured you around his workplace when you stopped by one afternoon - much to his team's surprise. You've come to know the gentle guy behind the stony facade, but he's never done anything more than put a hand at the small of your back or around your shoulder to protect you when you're in a crowded place. He's never attempted to do more than give you a light peck on the cheek at the end of your date. 

It's a little frustrating if you have to be honest, but he firmly believes that if there's a three-month rule after a breakup, the same thing should apply when you're seeing someone new. And you can't really complain when you know that there are a lot of other women out there who'd kill for a chance to date this dark-haired beauty, but all he wants is to spend time with you. 

It was his turn to clear his throat. "You're awfully quiet," he teased. "Has the sight you've chosen started to bore you?" He's been driving for nearly an hour, and the GPS says you'll be reaching his destination in another ten minutes. 

You straightened up. "You could never bore me."

"I noticed," he said. "All this time we've been seeing each other, you hardly ever complained about keeping me company."

"I could say the same about you," you quipped. 

"You're never boring," he replied, a nervous chuckle escaping him. "Anyway, do you know why we're here?" 

"Apart from watching the Baystars?"

He nodded. "This was where we had our first date," he said. "(Y/n), it's been three months since we started dating," he continued, keeping one hand on the wheel while his other hand brushed against yours. "I… uh… Well, I'm not sure this is the right time to say this, but I want you to know that I'm serious about you and that I want our relationship to be… You know…"

You cocked your head to one side, egging him on. "To be?"

"You're gonna make me say it? Fine. I want us to be an exclusive couple. I want to be your boyfriend," he said, and you found it cute how he, in his late thirties, still managed to blush like a teen. 

"So does that mean I get more than a peck on the cheek after a date?"

He smiled. "If you're good."

"And does that also mean we get to stay over at each others' apartments from time to time?"

"If that's what you want."

"Hmm," you said, pretending to be in deep thought. "And do I get to make some of my own rules for you to follow as well?"

"I'm all yours," he replied. "So, what do you say, can I have my answer now?"

Suddenly, the GPS announces that you've reached your destination. He's now looking for a parking space, carefully driving along the parking lot full of spectators decked out in their team's colors. You haven't given him an answer yet, but judging by how confidently he fits your hand into his and how natural it feels, you think he already knows he's going to be anything but upset today. 

The end. 

[ragingbookdragon]

Fellas Is It Gay To Rail Your Best Friend Against A Wall?

A HalBarry One-Shot

Word Count: 4.8K Warnings: SMUT/NSFW 18+, Explicit Language

Author's Note: You know what happens when you stick three twenty-somthing year olds in a discord together and discuss who'd top in ships? SMUT. You get SMUT. Here's 4.8K words of Barry Allen railing Hal Jordan like there's no tomorrow. -Thorne

**********************************************************************

The first time Hal Jordan ever had sex with a man, he was twenty-one and on a spring break bender with his command buddies from Edward’s down in Santa Monica. It wasn’t a particularly romantic moment between him and the other drunk and obviously very horny sailor who also happened to be on leave. The two had been stuck up against the wall, outside of a bar, hidden by the shadows, quick hands down the front of barely unbuttoned jeans, dipping into military regulated white boxers until both were gasping and falling against each other, hands sticky, bodies hot and tingling, lips bruised and numb. Hal had never seen the sailor again and he certainly didn’t tell his buddies that he’d had a quickie with a man.

For a while, Hal was content to recognize the new side of him he’d discovered. It wasn’t like he didn’t always know he had a thing for guys, it was just the first time he’d acted on it. It wasn’t bad, but he didn’t tell many people. And when the Clinton Administration had rolled out DADT, Hal shut his mouth tighter than a drum and never, ever had sex with any man in or around the Coast City area and made sure to stay the hell away from any Air Force bases when he did.

He was cautious, always vigilant when he had same sex relations with other men. There was too much to risk if it came out, too much to lose. Somewhere along the lines, Hal felt like it was a betrayal to himself to keep his mouth shut about who he really was. To lie to all his friends and family. A simple sentence of, “I’m bisexual” could cost him everything. For a long time, Hal hated his life.

And then, once it had been repealed and so many of his coworkers and friends were coming out, finally free to simply be themselves and serve, Hal still kept his mouth shut. He didn’t hate the silence so much anymore, the secrecy, but it’d become so common to him that being so open about it still made him wary. Of course, with his closest friends, they knew, they’d always known. It took a while for him to answer, but on the nights when they’d meet up back in the shop after the weekend and all galivant about their exploits, Hal would simply mention he and another feller had a great night, and the conversation would go on like normal to the next person.

Over the years came more experience with both sexes, more nights, more dates, more exploits, and Hal became more comfortable in his sexuality and mentality as well. He wasn’t so afraid to be flirtatious with men anymore, in fact, he engaged in it regularly, always enjoying the reactions when they were in the positive. Aliens didn’t much have the concept of same sex relations and the ever-present homophobia that humans had towards one another. Any male alien he flirted with responded quite the same as if they were being flirted with by one of their own—sometimes, some aliens found Hal weird, but then again, the same was true for him. Of course, he’d had his go arounds with aliens too, lots of stories he’d never tell about nights with some of the members in the Corps who’d both sworn each other to secrecy because God forbid someone find out the alien and the human slept together—they’d be the talk of the Corps forever.

And then he met Barry Allen. The most Midwestern man he’d ever met in his entire life. You couldn’t even say the word, “Cock” in front of Barry or he’d blush six ways from Sunday. Crack a dirty joke in front of him and he’d flush seven. Hal had never had so much fun teasing someone in the history of his thirty years. He rolled out every single dirty joke and innuendo at every moment he could in front of the Speedster just to see the crimson cover his cheeks and neck until he was about to steam from the ears.

At first, Barry seemingly hated Hal and his demeanor. But over the years, the anger gave way to exasperation which gave to tired fondness. He guessed that so many times of glaring at Hal who simply gave him a toothy grin and batted his eyelashes changed his mind. Changed something else too as the years went on.

Barry knew there was something different about his friendship with Hal compared to the others he had. And it wasn’t because the two were superheroes who’d had each other’s backs through everything. He knew something had shifted somewhere down the line. He no longer bid farewell to Hal as the pilot flew off into the stars with a simple, “See you later.” No, somewhere “See you later” had shifted to “Come back safe” and that had become “Come home safe”.

He worried when Hal left and didn’t call regularly. He always kept an eye to the sky, night and day, for Hal’s return. His first thoughts in the morning slowly became, “I wonder if Hal’s gonna come home today” and his last thoughts at night “I hope Hal comes home tomorrow”. It hit him all at once when he attended a JL party with the rest of the heroes and Hal’s arm had been snug around Carol’s waist the entire night though she seemed like she wanted to punch Hal more than kiss him. Something ached in his chest when he saw Hal whisper something to her and she had to bury her face in his shoulder so she didn’t burst out in laughter. He kept watching them. Kept glancing over to see what made it ache so bad. He couldn’t figure out why it ached so much. Why did it—he was in love with Hal.

Bartholomew Henry Allen was thirty-five going on thirty-six and having a goddamn midlife crisis realizing he was in love with his best friend who happened to be a man so the real goddamn midlife crisis was also realizing that he obviously was into dudes, and that just blew him out of the fucking stratosphere because for thirty-five years, he’d never looked at a man that way and now he couldn’t fucking stop it. And Harold Jordan knew something was up too whenever Barry avoided eye contact and was very quiet around him. Much like he was when they first met.

It'd taken months of nagging at him, and ultimately cornering Barry into the tightest corner he could find for the truth to finally come out and fuck, Hal had never felt so bad about pushing Barry to open up about something because the Speedster had suddenly burst into tears as he slid down the wall to bury his face in his knees and apologize profusely for his affections, shoulders shaking with an obvious fear and worry about the outcome. For a moment, Hal didn’t know what to do. He’d never expected this to occur. Well, he had, but in dreams he swore he’d never tell anyone about.

So, he did the next best thing. He slid down the wall next to Barry, and cuddled the Speedster to his chest, securing an arm around his shoulders as he rested his chin on Barry’s head and simply waited for the man to get it all out of his system. A good hour or so before Barry’s tears and hiccups had finally subsided enough for the two of them to have a heart to heart about it.

Barry was reluctant to answer, but he’d already ripped the band aid off, so he might as well. Hal listened, answered where he could. “I don’t want this to change anything, Hal,” Barry had said. “Just give me some time to get over it and we’ll be okay. I swear.” And Hal, God bless Hal being the flirty moron he was, simply grinned, “Well, I hope not. I haven’t spent the last six years flirting every single day with you for you to not be in love with me.” The two had looked at each other, one with waggling brows, the other with shock, until Barry’s eyes hardened, and he griped, “You absolute ass.” Which ultimately started a fight between the two, but at the end of the night, Hal was crawling into the queen bed in Barry’s bedroom, pressed up against the Speedster’s back, with a new relationship.

It wasn’t easy at first. Barry was awkward. Hal had commitment issues. More than once, the two got into arguments about Barry’s lack of romantic expression and Hal’s tendency to skip town when he felt flighty and tied down. But somehow, the two made it work. Something kept Barry from never trying to be more romantically open and the same for Hal coming home. Somewhere, something deep down in both of them clicked into place, and nothing in the universe could ever make it unclick between them.

Life, for the most part, was new for the two of them. More so Barry than Hal. Especially when it came to the bedroom. Barry was about as vanilla as they came and Hal had all the experience few people could ever boast about. It’d taken Hal almost a good year to finally convince Barry to go all the way beyond hand and blowjobs. And shit, the first time they really had sex, Hal could barely keep himself from laughing the entire time as Barry fumbled and blushed relentlessly. Still though, it gave Barry confidence and unlocked new territory for him. Sex no longer made Barry squirm, in fact he looked forward to trying new things, and Hal was happy to oblige, but it certainly became rather solidified that Hal was the one who usually took initiative and Barry following the lead. Didn’t mean the roles didn’t change often. They did. In the most surprising ways Hal had never imagined them to—and he imagined those things quite a lot.

***

Hal’s arm kept dipping lower towards Barry’s ass and the Speedster shifted faster than anyone could see to kick behind him towards the hand reaching to squeeze; Hal grunted in pain and lifted his hand back up. “That wasn’t very nice,” he whispered.

“We’re in public at a professional setting,” Barry bit back, fighting the flush coming to his cheeks as he watched the crowd mingling in the ballroom of the Annual Wayne Charity Gala. “Please act like there are people around us that will recognize you as a prominent Air Force Captain and me a forensic detective at CCPD.”

“C’mon, Bar, have a little fun for once. I saw a delightful little nook in one of the hallways we could sneak off to and have a quickie. You know I’d love to swa—.”

“No. We’re here to support Bruce and the Gotham Charities, not fu—sneak off.”

Hal smirked, turning to look at the side of Barry’s head; Barry kept his eyes on the guests. “Barry Allen, were you gonna say fuck? Oh my goodness gracious!”

“Shut up.”

“Who are you and what have you done with my uptight boyfriend, Barry Allen? The man I know would never say, ‘fuck’ in a fashion denoting sexual contact.”

Barry rolled his eyes in exasperation. “Will you please act like an adult for once? One party. Can you last one party?”

Hal waggled his brows. “I mean, depending on the party, I can last a long time.” Barry was about to snap back at him for being immature when Bruce somehow appeared before them; he forgot that Batman could do that even in public.

“Barry, Hal,” he greeted with a pleasant smile. “Thank you for both coming tonight.”

“Not coming yet,” Hal joked, tugging Barry closer with a snicker as the Speedster flushed crimson and glowered at him.

“Hal!” he griped. “Seriously. What is wrong with you tonight?”

“Giant parties are boring.” He looked at Bruce. “No offense, Spooky.”

“None taken,” he replied and glanced at Barry. “I heard about the commendation for best forensic scientist in the precinct at CCPD. You certainly deserve it, Barry.”

Barry smiled, bleeding humbleness as he merely replied, “There are plenty others who are more deserving of the award than I am.”

“No need to be humble,” Bruce said, taking a sip of his champagne. “You close more cases than anyone in the precinct.”

“How do you—never mind,” he said, waving it off and Hal slipped his arm away. “Where are you going?”

Hal shrugged. “I’m bored so I’m gonna go find amusement.”

“Don’t get into trouble,” Barry warned, and Hal merely winked at him and wandered off; he sighed and looked at Bruce. “I’m sorry.”

Bruce chuckled. “I’m surprised he managed to stay still this long.”

“You’re not worried…are you?”

“What, that he’s going to make a scene? No.” he plucked a chute of champagne off a waiter’s tray and handed it to Barry, gesturing for the two to walk near one of the giant glass windows. “How are things in Central? Any changes?”

Barry hummed, watching the bubbles in the crystal chute. “Not out of the ordinary. Wally’s been busy more with his family, so I’ve been picking up the slack. Not that I’m complaining. I understand. It’s good to be back out there more often again. I forgot how much I missed it.” Bruce was watching him with a funny look. “What?”

He shook his head. “You act like you’ve been retired like Jay Garrick’s been.”

Barry snorted. “Well, for Speedsters, not running often is like retirement.”

“I thought retirement was supposed to be relaxing?”

“Gonna tell me that if you retired, you’d be relaxing?”

“Hmm…fair point.” Bruce gazed out the window into the night. “You and Hal seem to be doing well.”

Bruce never mentioned anyone’s relationships beyond Clark’s and Lois’. “We are,” he started, slightly suspicious.

He chuckled lowly, obviously sensing the hesitation. “I don’t have any ulterior motive, Barry. I’m simply commenting on a friend’s relationship.”

Barry blinked. “We’re friends?”

“I’m slightly offended that you think we’re not,” he replied. “How are things?”

“Good…” Barry murmured, then he nodded and repeated. “They’re good. Hal finally managed to let go of the apartment back in Coast City and move in with me in Central.”

“Certainly a big step in his ever-long commitment issues.” Barry couldn’t help but nod in agreement. “I won’t lie, I worried for you when the two of you got together.” Barry gazed at him with confusion, but Bruce’s eyes never strayed from the street below. “I like Hal despite the hype that I don’t. He’s just annoying at times. Selfish much more. But you, you’re the most selfless person I’ve ever met.”

“You were afraid he was going to take advantage of it,” he surmised.

“More or less.” Bruce sipped his drink. “I wondered if you were going to end up with a broken heart and Hal another notch in his belt. You’re more naïve when it comes to relationships than others. I was worried that your relationship with him was going to end in disaster.”

Barry couldn’t help but feel a punch somewhere in his gut, but at the same time he understood. “I appreciate your concern, but it wasn’t like I was some…fumbling virgin with Hal. I mean I was but I—you know what I mean,” he hurried, cheeks heating up.

Bruce hummed in return. “Yes, but Hal is Hal. There’s no other way to explain it. And you have to admit that the worry was always in the back of your mind too.”

His eyes felt to the glass in his hand, and he muttered, “…For a while.”

“And now? After the past couple years?”

Inhaling deeply, he looked back up to see Bruce staring at him; he smiled. “It’s not there anymore.”

Bruce smiled and with his free hand, clapped Barry one the shoulder lightly. “I’m glad.” His eyes shifted once, a frown etching onto his face and he muttered, “But Hal’s going to make a scene in a few minutes if he keeps arguing with the stockbroker over there.”

Barry’s head swiveled around, catching his pilot and another man almost chest to chest and he felt anger swirl in his stomach as he cursed, “Damnit Hal.” He sighed and started towards him. “Sorry, Bruce.”

“No, please, don’t hold back on my account.”

He hurried over and split the two men apart, shoving the man with his arm and grabbing Hal’s hand in the other. “Both of you are embarrassing yourselves.”

The man floundered, but Hal thrust his hand out. “He started it!”

“I don’t care who started it. I’m ending it.”

“But I—”

“Hal. Enough.” Barry shot him a glare that had Hal snapping his mouth shut in shock, eyes widening; the weight of the eyes of the entire party were down their backs as Barry pulled Hal off through the ballroom and away from the crowd, down some hallway until the sound was muffled by the vacant way.

“Barry,” Hal started. “It wasn’t my fault. He started it over some shit about—”

Whenever Barry used his speed with Hal, he was always careful. Never hurried through anything that would cause pain or fear. Never rough or careless of circumstance. But this time, Barry had Hal pressed up against a wall they weren’t even next to, hands pinned behind his back and clasped in Barry’s, tugging them down just far enough that Hal’s back was arched, hips tilting forwards.

His eyes were wide with shock. “Barry, I—”

“I said not to get into trouble,” Barry said lowly, leaning into Hal’s personal space, and suddenly, Hal was very aware that he had done something he shouldn’t have but if this was going where he thought it was going, he wasn’t sorry. “And what did you do?” he added, sliding a thigh between Hal’s, face mere centimeters from his.

Hal tried to angle his hips down onto Barry’s leg, tongue darting out to wet his suddenly very dry lips. “Got into trouble,” he answered. “Can’t take me anywhere, can you, babe?” he breathed, dropping his gaze to Barry’s lips.

Barry’s eyes narrowed and he squeezed the hands in his grasp, enjoying the quiet gasp from the pilot. “You’re not really in a position to be such a smart-ass, Hal.”

“Wanna bet?” he challenged.

“Sure,” he replied with a smile and spun Hal around, shoving him up against the wall, hands still in his grasp. “What do you want to wager?”

“Barry,” Hal worried, turning his cheek to the wall so he could see his lover from the corner of his eyes. “The party. We—”

“Oh? Now you’re concerned with being seen? You weren’t five minutes ago.”

“This is a little different than a verbal argument.”

“Not really,” Barry shrugged, taking both of Hal’s wrists in one of his hands as the other slid around to fumble with Hal’s belt buckle.

“Oh shit, Bar, you—you’re really gonna do this here, aren’t you?” he breathed, trying to move back so Barry had more room.

“Stop moving,” Barry warned, and Hal swallowed thickly; he managed to get the belt undone and snapped the button of the dress pants. “Always getting into trouble. Why can’t you ever behave?”

Hal was acutely aware of how hard he was in the span of the few minutes since they’d left the ballroom. “‘Cause you indulge me misbehaving,” he retorted, huffing a laugh that had crawled out of his throat. “It’s all your fault for not punishing me.”

Barry hummed, tugging down the zipper of Hal’s pants, smirking at the whine that tore from the pilot as his hand brushed his erection on the way. “Hal, Hal, Hal,” he tutted. “Shame on you.”

“Yes, yes,” he agreed. “Shame on me. Now come on,” he griped. “Touch me.”

“No.” he simply answered, pushing Hal closer to the wall. “I’m not done.”

“Barry,” Hal groaned, bumping his head against the wall. “C’mon.”

“Nope,” he said, popping the ‘p’ as he pulled his hand from Hal’s front and grabbed Hal’s left wrist; with his right around Hal’s right wrist, he planted Hal’s palms against the wall, clasped in his grip and simply held him there. “See you always do this. We can’t go anywhere without you doing something stupid and embarrassing the two of us. Whether it’s dinner or a party or an awards ceremony. You always find a way to become the center of attention.”

His lips were pressed against Hal’s ear, breath hot and heavy and Hal squirmed against him. “You love it.”

“Do I?” he countered, pressing his front against Hal’s ass.

Hal grinned that stupid cocky smirk and ground against Barry’s erection. “Something tells me you do.” Barry simply pressed him harder to the wall and Hal let out a gasp, unable to help grinding against the wall to relieve the pressure; fuck his boxers were too tight for his liking. “Barry,” he moaned, turning his head, forehead against the wall as he shuddered and canted his hips again and again into the wall. “Fuck, I—”

“Don’t move your hands,” Barry warned and pulled them away from Hal’s wrists, one yanking Hal’s hips from the wall, the other sliding around Hal’s front and up his chest to dig around in the suit jacket.

“W—what are you looking for?”

“The lube you always keep in your breast pocket when we’re out.”

“How did you know I keep lube on me?”

Barry answered sardonically, “Please, you’re horny most of the nights we go out. You don’t think I got it by now?” he found what he was looking for and yanked it out; with it curled in two of his fingers, he grabbed Hal’s pants and boxers with both hands and yanked them down to his thighs.

“Shit,” Hal gasped as his cock sprang free from its constraints. “Barry, please.”

“In a minute,” he answered, kicking at one of Hal’s feet. “Spread.”

Hal obeyed like his life depended on the order and he turned his head again, trying to see the expression Barry wore. God, it was beautiful. Barry’s jaw was set like it was when he really got angry in a fight, black pupils so blown that there was barely a ring of blue to be seen, lips set in a frown that Hal’s hands slipping down to grab at his cock to take the pressure off.

“Hands.”

His palms slapped against the wall again and his breathing hitched when the cap of the lube clicked, then a slick and very hot set of fingers were at his ass. Hal’s thighs tensed as those slick fingers entered him and he groaned, low and hoarsely as he shoved back.

“Barry,” he moaned, digging his nails into the wall. They pushed and curled, hard and fast, stretching and scissoring until Hal was gasping against the wall. “Bar—I’m gonna—I’m gonna come if you keep—” Then they were gone, and Hal almost cried. “Barry,” he whined.

“What do you want?” he heard from behind, and he listened to Barry’s belt buckle come loose, followed by the zipper.

“I—” Hal swallowed thickly. “C’mon, Barry.”

Barry’s teeth were worrying a spot below Hal’s ear, and he growled, “What do you want, Hal?” he breathed into Hal’s ear. “I can keep you here all night if you want. Just. Like. This.” He accentuated his point by squeezing the inside of Hal’s thigh to the point that the pilot jumped a little. “Hot and hard. So hard for me. So ready. Is that what you want?”

“No,” Hal almost sobbed. His cock ached so bad. Hal had never wanted to be railed so bad in his entire life.

“Then what do you want?” Barry repeated.

“I want you to fuck me,” he begged. “God, fuck me, Barry, please, fuck me.”

“Right here?” he asked. “Right up against this wall? Where anyone could see me fucking you silly?”

Hal didn’t give a flying fuck who saw right now. “Yes,” he cried. “I want you to fuck me. Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me,” he begged, and Barry shushed him, one hand curling around Hal’s hip the other grabbing at his cock.

“Be quiet,” he ordered lowly, slicking his cock with the rest of the lube. “The last thing we need is to be on the Gotham evening news for being caught at Bruce’s party.” The head of Barry’s cock pressed up against Hal’s entrance and he leaned down, burying his face in Hal’s suit jacket as he buried himself into Hal’s body, a single stroke all the way to the hilt.

Quick as lightning, he clapped a hand around Hal’s mouth to silence the groan that he knew was coming; he bit down on Hal’s shoulder to muffle his own groan of pleasure whenever the pilot took his fingers into his mouth, tongue slicking between them as he pushed back. Barry pulled back and canted his hips forward, hard enough that it jolted Hal against the wall, but the man hardly cared as he moaned and reached behind him and grabbed at Barry’s ass, fingers digging into the flesh of that ridiculously taut muscle.

Barry lifted his head and pulled his fingers from Hal’s mouth, hand sliding down to grasp the pilot’s throat and pull his neck back. Hal let out a gasp and dug harder. “I thought I told you to keep your hands on the wall,” Barry grunted into his ear, thrusting faster. “You can’t even listen now.” All Hal could form was a babble of Barry’s name, free hand coming up to thread in blond hair. “Is this what you want?” Barry growled, snapping his hips faster and harder against Hal’s ass. “Huh?”

“Yes!” Hal gasped, tugging the hair in his grip. “Barry!” he turned his head, sloppily pressing his lips to the underside of Barry’s jaw as he plead, “Touch me. Barry, touch me, please, I—”

“I’ve got you,” he breathed, the lube-slick hand from Hal’s hip coming to grasp at the leaking cock between Hal’s thighs; he curled his hand around it and pumped in time with his thrust. Hal keened, breath catching in his throat as Barry’s fingers tightened around it. Barry’s thumb swiped the head of his cock, catching the precum gathered there; his fingers started to vibrate, as was much of his body honestly, he was as hot and bothered as Hal was. “Gonna come?”

He nodded profusely, tears leaking out of the corners of his eyes. “Yeah, gonna come, wanna come, need to come, Barry.” He swallowed and gasped out, “Barry, right there, so close, Barry—”

Barry nailed Hal as fast and hard as he could, hand speeding up around the pilot’s cock and he ordered, “Come for me. Now.”

His back arched so much that for a second, Barry was afraid it was going to snap, but then the sob escaped Hal’s throat and warmth covered his fingers and splattered against the wall in front of him. Barry swore as Hal’s body tightened around him and he bit the tanned skin as he grunted and spilled himself into Hal, and that garnered another groan from Hal as warmth spilled down the insides of his twitching thighs.

Hal was shaking in his arms as Barry leaned them against the wall, his own body tingling and buzzing slightly from the aftershocks. He was panting as was Hal when the fingers loosened from his hair. “Hal?” he breathed heavily, lifting his head to check on him. “You okay?”

The pilot batted at the hand still around his cock until Barry let go and he took a deep breath once, twice, then said as shameless as could be, “If this is what happens when I make trouble…I’m gonna get in so much fucking trouble any time I can.” Barry snorted and Hal rested his head on the wall and he chuckled breathlessly, “Barry, babe, I don’t think I can walk.”

“Are your legs jelly?”

He nodded. “I feel like a newborn giraffe. I can’t fucking stand up straight. Jesus fuck.”

Barry nuzzled his neck and slid from his body, enjoying the groan Hal let out; he pressed his chest to keep Hal standing as he yanked the pilot’s boxers and pants back up, zipping, buttoning, and buckling them. “You won’t be standing tomorrow once we get back to Central City.” He took one of Hal’s hands and brought it behind him, curling his and Hal’s fingers around his cock that was already hard again. He held Hal’s hand tight in his grip and both of them pumped Barry’s cock and he purred into the pilot’s ear, “We’re not done yet.”

Hal just groaned, but the corners of his mouth were lifting into a smirk.

[robinofgothamcity]

"damn, I see you still kick it with them opp bitches I'm the only reason that your goofy-ass got bitches all them hoes wanna look like me bitch most likely only fucking you just to spite me but please don't get it twisted, I ain't tripping."

♡ character: eddie kingston / slight mjf

♡ pronouns used: she / her

♡ note: not checked for grammar or spelling mistakes / finally got to write for my new york king and i'm so happy about it and i swear my next fic will be the last one for max for a while lmaooo

you shook your head right in disbelief as you watched the monitor showing you mjf's heated discussion with cm punk. you knew max loved what he did but he threw low blows when it benefitted him and sometimes you were the one who was at the end of the joke. not shawn, not anyone who was forced to participate in his stupid storyline but you.

"how do you deal with that?" kiera asked you as you shrugged, not really knowing how to respond, "when you've been with max as long as i have, you kind of get used to it. it does get tiring, don't get me wrong, but i don't really have a choice."

kiera shook her head not believing your words, "come on, you're one of the greatest on the roster and you think your only chance to shine is with him?" you sighed going down on your chair trying to change the conversation, "have you ever thought that others might be here to help you? even take you under their wing?"

you knew she made a point. you had met max in the indies, the two of you forming a tag team before either of you signed to aew but once the two of you officially signed, you knew you'd be max's manager.

"who'd be willing to do that? the baddie's have enough members and i'm not really close to anyone here," you replied. kiera didn't respond as she knew you were in a bit of a standstill, "still watching that idiot?" you heard the thick new york accent coming from behind you. you turned over to eddie, your mood instantly turning around, "hey kingston! what're you doing here? i thought you didn't have a match on the card tonight?"

kiera stood off to the side, half watching your interaction and half still still trying to figure out what your next move could be, "why don't you team up with him? i bet cm punk would love to make max's life hell by you siding with him," eddie gagged at the sound of cm punk's name but didn't say anything.

"nah, that dog collar match was more than enough to not get me involved," you replied, still not believing the amount of blood those two lost that sunday night, "what're you guys talking about? that doesn't matter, let's go!" max's voice interrupted the conversation, rather loudly you had to add.

you rolled your eyes but eddie was the one who stood up, "listen to the lady for one god damn time in your life," he yelled back just as loud. max let out a chuckle, basically stating that he wasn't going to even bother with eddie, "max, i'm busy. better yet, weren't you the one that said "you don't need some slut you found on the indies running behind you" and "i can do fine on my own" or am i hearing things?"

max scoffed, "you're really mad about that? let's go and we can talk about it later," you shook your head no, remaining in your spot, "i'll stay right here," you were standing by this point but you were still in the middle of eddie and kiera who didn't know what to do besides back you up.

"you need me." "i need a fucking therapist after the years i spent with you."

eddie tried to suppress his laugh, as did kiera, but the two couldn't hold it in anymore and started laughed. you knew this was going to upset max a lot more than you had intended but you were on a roll.

"don't call me when you're buried in with the low cards and i have the aew world title," this time it was your turn to laugh, "remember what you punk told you?" max's eyebrows fluttered in anger, "the only time you'll be number one is when you're married to tony's family." you knew the night that punk told max that he'd never be champion unless he married his way in, he was hurt and that was to put it lightly.

eddie let out another belting laugh not believing you told max that to his face. max walked away, anger seething through his body as wardlow walked in, giving you a high five. you knew michael was on his way to start his feud with max but he never expected you to do the same. the way he saw it, you looked like you were going to be with max forever.

+

weeks passed as max was now in full swing in his feud with michael. you were working your way through a tournament to be the number one contender for the women's championship. you were facing julia hart tonight and you knew you had to be prepare for it.

"watch out, max might interrupt your match to make you lose," michael said as you were bandaging your wrists, "he'd be a real idiot to do that," you replied as you saw eddie walking into the locker room.

"got that stupid coffee of yours," he said handing you the steaming cup of starbucks coffee. you smiled, grabbing it from him, "take care of her. she's like a sister." michael stated as he got up to leave. you threw him a towel from your locker space as he dodged it with ease.

you had been associating yourself with eddie, santana, and ortiz after your fallout with max. you were just rolling in the back of the group, helping them when they needed an extra push of help.

it was very surprising to many to see you with eddie. from an outsiders perspective, it looked like the two of you weren't even friends. you were always with max and michael so when you walked out with eddie, holding a nail covered bat and backing him up against the jericho appreciation society, people questioned where the partnership had came from.

max on the other hand saw it coming from the minute you broke off your partnership with him. eddie was there that night with kiera and he couldn't believe that you would actually associate yourself with someone like eddie when you had him by your side.

"nervous?" eddie asked. you waved it off, "never. julia has her own problems with house of black and varsity blonds. this is an easy win for me," you said. eddie nodded proudly, "see, ain't this better than being with that fuckin' piece of shit?"

"tell me about it," you joked taking another sip of your coffee. you were tightening your belt on your jeans as eddie sat next to you in comfortable silence, "you guys walking me out?" eddie nodded as he told you that santana and ortiz were more than excited to help you out tonight.

"this means a lot. i know i wasn't even supposed to be with you but i didn't really know what to do after i left max and you guys kinda just accepted me," you confessed. eddie shook your comment off, "you worked your ass off to be here and you deserve it."

you looked up to eddie as you had been laying your head on his lap. something about eddie's colored eyes mesmerized you. you knew eddie didn't open up to a lot of people so it was surprising that he was so vulnerable with you, "you really need to take credit for your work ethic," eddie on.

you brought eddie down for a kiss, not caring if someone walked in or not. he let out an amused chuckle but deepened the kiss knowing he felt the same feelings you clearly had for him. the kisses between max and eddie were very different.

max had this smugness to his kisses. it was like he forced himself to kiss you each time you did but eddie was very different. his were soft and slightly rough. he had a hand on your stomach and held it with a stern grip. he knew he couldn't be too rough considering your gear did show your stomach and he didn't want others to think something else.

"letting out all your emotions, huh?" eddie asked jokingly. you shoved him to let yourself up as you noticed your phone alarming you that it was almost time for your match, "come on kingston, i got a match to win," you stated.

the two of you walked out of the locker room as you pulled on your jean jacket. santana had helped you tighten your bandana before one of the producers said you only had a minute before your match. you noticed max sitting in the back seemingly trying to blend in with the producers which alerted your red flags.

"stay ringside i feel like max might pull some shit," you told the three as your theme rang off through the speakers. you walked out to the crowd cheering you on as eddie walked next to you and santana and ortiz walked behind, "do well out there sweetheart," eddie said as you jumped into the ring.

you noticed julia's very unamused look on her face practically stating to put her out of her misery so she could leave and not deal with brian or griff on her side.

"come on ( your name )," eddie screamed from the side as you got to flip julia onto the mat. you went to grab her leg to tap her out but the commotion from the side of the ring made you realize that what michael had said was true. max really wanted to ruin your chances, "pay attention to your match!" eddie yelled to try and not make you worry.

julia had managed to get you into a headlock instantly making you want to tap but hearing max's cackles from ringside made shove julia away of you. you threw her to the ropes as she hit them with a hard thud giving you enough time to get to max.

you got on top of the turnbuckle and jumped off with a kick to max's face. he flew against the railing making eddie yell in support. you were quick to get up as you realized that your match against julia was still going on.

julia still looked a bit out of it but you on the other hand were running off of pure spite against max. you grabbed julia by the arm and did a german suplex to end the match. you knew julia didn't care for her loss with varsity blonds so you instantly looked down to max who was still on the ground getting a beating from eddie, santana, and ortiz.

you grabbed a mic from the producers as you bent over the top rope to look at max.

"well max? didn't i tell you? i'd become something even without you by my side," you screamed, "and it looks like i'll have a chance at the title before you do which is very ironic considering backstage you had told me that you'd be world champ before i became one. you aren't shit without me or wardlow and it's showing. you have shawn chasing your shadow which is embarrassing because it's shawn. with eddie, santana, and ortiz by my side, you'll be buried in the low cards right alongside shawn."

by the time you finished your speech, the crowd was cheering for you as loud as they could as eddie stood next to you. you smiled at him as he grabbed your hand discreetly and held it for support.

"so you can replace me with another girl, you can try and intimidate me with someone else on the roster by that won't change the fact that i'm becoming a number one contender for the women's title and you're going to be fighting for your life against wardlow later tonight and yes i've noticed that the girls you've been trying to make me jealous with look eerily similar to me and it's kind of embarrassing. next time try not to make it so noticeable."

you blew him a kiss before getting out the ring and walking away, feeling like you were on top of the world with eddie by your side.

[roll-da-credits]

A Bunny with Bunny?  -Tamaki x reader-

Word count: 2k

Tamaki was someone who needed constant reassuring, you knew that when getting in a relationship with him. But sometimes, you forget. With a new tiny addition to your family distracting you and taking all your time, its hard not to get insecure and jealous.

A/n: AHHHHHHH, I can’t. I hope you guys enjoy the first fanfic I post here. I’ve literally never posted in Tumblr ever. I’ve always used Wattpad.

It was common knowledge by this point that Tamaki Amajiki had a lot of insecurities and anxiety. It only heightened when it came to you.

Although, a lot of the time you diffused his anxiety and insecurities pretty quickly once you realized. Whenever it came to you, he found himself deep in thought at night thinking if he deserved you.

In his mind, you were an incredible person with an equally wonderful personality. While he, on the other hand, was shy and riddled with nervousness at any social interaction. You shone bright, much like Mirio, he thought of himself as nothing compared to you.

Every single time he's had one of those thoughts, you'd be able to sense his doubts by the way he carried himself. Not doubts about your relationship or you, but on himself.

So, the entire day you'd stick close to him, showering him with light affection that you knew won't embarrass or make him feel even more embarrassed.

He considered himself EXTREMELY lucky to have someone as understanding and caring as you in his life. He knew dealing with his myriad of issues was difficult. But you went through them with no problem.

You even helped him with helping himself. By your constant words of affirmation, he's been able to be a bit more confident, even when you weren't there to help him.

Time went on, and by the second year you were dating, he barely had any doubts about himself in your relationship.

That is until he heard your conversation with Nejire.

"Just look at him!!!" You squealed in excitement.

 He was going through a hallway when he heard your and Nejire's voice when the hallways separated to the right and left. He stopped to listen in, curious about what you were talking about.

 "He is adorable." Nejire seemed to agree with you, peeking at the corner. He saw how you gushed about whatever photo you were showing Nejire.

His heart sank a little bit, but he wanted to give the benefit of the doubt. Maybe it was a photo of a family member.

"I just met him like last week and already have A LOT of photos of him."

Ok, this is starting to not sound like a family member.

Maybe it's a friend's baby brother. You have a lot of friends outside of the school you were close to their siblings as well.

"I just want to pamper him with all the kisses in the world and give him world!!!" You gushed.

Shit.

 Tamaki felt his heart drop. There's no way you were talking about a family member. Not by the way you seem to be enamored by them.

He tried to think back on when you seemed to lose interest. Thinking back to last week, did you act any differently?

If you did, he didn't notice it. The problem was last week you said you were ridiculously busy with stuff at home. He could even see from the tapping of your foot to the ground when it was last period you were aching to go back home.

Was it because of this new guy?

His heart clenched at the thought.

"God, I love him so much." His mind begged him to stop listening.

But before walking away, he wanted to hear what Nejire might say. There's no way his best friend would be ok with this.

There's no way she wouldn't protest at you being infatuated with another person when you were still in a relationship with Tamaki. That's just what a good friend would do. Instead of that, she said jokingly.

"Watch out a certain blue-haired boy might get jealous." You both laughed at her remark.

Did you think he wouldn't get jealous over you doting on another guy?

Did the nights you spent together cuddling and napping together really meant nothing to you?

His insecurities crept back into his mind. Tiny voices whispered about how he should've expected it. He should've expected someone as radiant as you would never want to be with someone like him.

His vision was blurred by the lot of tears that came down as he furiously tried to wipe them away.

He didn't watch the way he was going, and as a result, he bumped in head first to someone's chest.

He tried to mutter an apology, yet it came out as a stuttering mess of squeaks. "Woah! Slow down, Tamaki. What's wrong?"

Mirio.

Thankfully the guy he bumped into was Mirio, one of the most understanding guys he ever known.

Mirio pulled Tamaki to the side, where they both sat on a nearby seat. He patiently waited as Tamaki rubbed his eyes red, trying to clear his eyes from tears.

When Tamaki finally calmed down a little and is now just sniffling once in a while, Mirio braved himself to ask the question.

"Hey, Tamaki, what's wrong?" Tamaki's gaze still fixed to the ground, spoke in a voice barely above a whisper. "I think Y/n doesn't love me anymore."

Mirio's eyes went wide in shock. He didn't believe that in a second. You're the person who'd take any chance you can get to attack Tamaki with kisses or force him to cuddle with you whenever he felt unloved.

"Why do you think that?" Mirio composed himself. "I overheard them and Nejire talking about some guy she found cu- cute."

He stuttered a little bit at the end, finding it hard to believe that he would ever say that out loud.

"There has to be a misunderstanding here. Are you sure it's not just some celebrity or a family member?"

Tamaki heard the small panic in Mirio's voice. He knew Mirio didn't want to accept the fact either. "I heard them say that they just met him last week and that they wanted to give him kisses."

Mirio rubbed his temples to try and cope with the upcoming headache caused by stress.

There would be no way that you'd do that to Tamaki, is there?

There was a possibility that you and Tamaki's relationship didn't work out. He knew relationships aren't always permanent. But he didn't believe that you'd be such a coward, flirting with other guys when you were still in a relationship with someone who's head over heels for you.

"Tamaki, how about this." Mirio wanted to come up with a plan. Since it was already time to go home anyway, he thought it'd be a great idea to do it. "You and I can both go to Y/n's house, where they're most likely at right now, then we can talk about it."

Tamaki looked like he was about to disagree until, Mirio cut him off, "We need to make sure we read the situation correctly. We don't want to assume the worse, but at the same time, we shouldn't be needlessly positive either."

Tamaki gaped at Mirio's calmness. He knew he was so lucky to have Mirio as a friend. Someone level-headed that was able to bring Tamaki's mind to the situation at hand.

Tamaki agreed with Mirio together made their way over to your house. Albeit, both of them pretty nervous about what they might uncover.

When reaching your front door, Tamaki noticed how your parent's car wasn't there, which meant they weren't home. Tamaki took the spare key you gave him and opened the door.

It was relatively quiet until there was a high-pitched squeal from your bedroom.

Tamaki jumped at the sudden sound, and Mirio identified it as Nejire's voice.

"HE LOOKS CUTER IN PERSON!!!" They both heard Nejire scream.

Both the boys had incredibly bad feelings about this. Nejire's statement only confirmed the fact that you had brought this guy to your house.

Tamaki shook his head when Mirio motioned him to open the door to your bedroom.

He didn't want to see you all over a new guy who took your interest.

Hell, he didn't even want to be there in the first place.

Mirio sighed and nodded. He understood the circumstances his best friend was in and decided to open the door first.

When he did, the sight made his mouth gape open.

"Mirio!" You greeted the Tintin looking man (he looks like Tintin sue me.) "I've been looking for you everywhere. I want you to meet a special someone."

Tamaki, from behind Mirio's muscular physique, was still hidden from the two other people in the room and also couldn't see anything.

He only assumed the worst.

"This is Shiro. My parents bought him as a gift, and isn't he just the cutest little thing."

Wait

Wait

WAIT

BOUGHT??

WHAT DO YOU MEAN BOUGHT???

Tamaki pulled Mirio away from the door frame and looked at the sight that made Mirio so speechless.

Nejire was sitting cross-legged on the bed, her hand filled with fresh and clean greens.

You were sitting cross-legged as well, but on the ground. In the middle of your legs slept a tiny little black and white Dutch rabbit. (search them up they're adorable)

Now he understood why Mirio was speechless.

It was never a family member.

It was never a new guy.

It was never even a human being.

It was a fucking bunny.

He got so jealous to the point of crying, over a damn bunny.

Embarrassment seeped through him and he instantly walked to the corner of the wall to face it.

He should've noticed the litter box in your house. And how there were tufts of fur stuck on your clothes.

God, he felt so dumb.

You were so confused at your boyfriend's sudden timidness, but because of the tiny little ball of fur currently sleeping where you're sitting. There's no way you'd move and stir him from his sleep.

Mirio laughed out loud, and you quickly quieted him, explaining how bunnies are easily spooked.

He apologized and sat cross-legged in front of you, examining the tiny bunny thankfully still deep in slumber.

"Tamaki heard you talking about little Shiro to Nejire today." You nodded, while your hand softly caresses Shiro's head.

Tamaki shuffled closer into the wall, wishing to any god out there to melt into the wall. "After he told me, we genuinely thought you found a new boyfriend."

Your eyes widened and you looked over to your shy boyfriend.

Your heart ached at the thought.

Luckily for you, Shiro began waking up. Upon waking up, he promptly walked away from you to examine the new human being in the corner of the room, Tamaki.

You stood and gave Tamaki the biggest hug from the back you could muster.

Shiro nuzzled on Tamaki's ankles a little bit, making you giggle. "He seems to like you a lot!" Tamaki still refused to turn your way.

"You know in the RARE chance that I find someone even better than you. Which may I add is close to impossible I would never lie to you and still be in a relationship with you." He valued your honesty and the way you didn't try and make empty promises.

Mirio and Nejire took this as a cue to leave. Nejire, leaving the leafy greens on your bedside table above some tissues.

You took Tamaki's arm and turned him to look at you.

"Hey, hey. Have you been crying over this?" His gaze still fixated on the floor, he nodded.

You sighed and took one of your hands to his cheek to caress it. He enjoyed the warmth of your hand and leaned into it more.

Still trying to reassure him, you gave him a small peck on his lips.

Reminding him that right now, he was the most precious HUMAN guy in your life.

Shiro suddenly thumped at the ground with his two back legs. Both of you glanced over at the tiny bunny.

He looked pissed. He seemed to be demanding your attention and is furious to not be getting any.

Both of you burst into laughter at the silly behavior your bunny was now showing. You both sat down on the floor and began to give the bunny attention.

"See even he's jealous of you." You picked Shiro up on both your hands, all his four feet safely planted on the palm of your hand close to your stomach and not high from the ground.

Tamaki looked at you and Shiro and smiled intently. "Bunny with their pet bunny."

Your face heated up at the comment he made using your pet name, "oh shut up." You tried not to sound flustered but failed miserably. By the dopey smile you have decorating your face right now, Tamaki knew you were still ridiculously in love with him.

Even if one day you're not, Tamaki feels good knowing you'd break up with him before you hurt him any further.

After all, you are his most precious, incredible, kind, caring, daring, loving, patient.

Bunny

[mightyavngrs]

i guess we both made mistakes | brandon darrow x reader

summary: after finding out brandon was the one behind the snake mask y/n is set on staying away from him for as long as she can. when his safety is compromised, though, she can't help but put the feeling of betrayal aside

masterlist

Brandon Darrow and you had been best friends once upon time, that is until he became popular and ditched you for his new asshole friends. You hadn't talked to him in years until this whole situation started and when you found yourself getting closer to him again while looking for clues on king cobra's real identity, you couldn't help but feel a little happy to somewhat be mending your relationship with Brandon. You really felt like the two of you were finally okay again until Rowan broke the news to you.

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

You were in Hailey's car as the blonde drove you two to pick Rowan up from the zoo party where the girl had went to try and find out who hid behind the snake mask but when she got in the car, an apologetic look in her face, you couldn't help but freeze.

"What happened, Ro? Who is he?" you'd asked the girl, basically begging for good news, only to be met by her sad eyes.

"I'm sorry y/n/n. It was Brandon."

And suddenly you felt like you couldn't breathe, tears starting to sting your eyes as you tried to remain calm not to worry your friends any more.

"No. It can't be." you managed to mutter between trembling lips.

"I'm so sorry y/n. I know you two were getting closer again." Rowan said taking your hand in hers giving it a comforting squeeze.

"He was so gentle to me, Ro. How could he? How could he do this?" your sadness was being replaced by anger and betrayal. Brandon had been there for you during the past few weeks, comforting you when you needed it most, and even going as far as kissing you on the rooftop of his house. Had it all just been some manipulative way to trick you into not questioning his innocence? Was that all you were to him? A piece in his stupid game? You felt sick to your stomach.

Hailey dropped you off at your house after you guys' visit to the hospital to check up on Ash, who'd been in surgery for being shot. Rowan had stayed with Elisia to keep her company but you weren't sure you could keep it together any longer and so had asked Hailey to drive you home.

As you closed the front door behind you, seconds away from finally running to your bed and letting all the build up hurt go through the tears you'd been holding back the whole night, you heard your phone in your pocket. Picking up the device, already imagining what other terrible news or threats you were about to find, your heart stopped at the texts glowing in your screen.

from: rowan

STINGER JUST TEXTED ME

from: rowan

HE GOT A PING ON DUNBAR'S PHONE

from: rowan

IT'S AT YOUR HOUSE

You looked around, trying to type out a reply as you moved towards your bedroom.

to: rowan

are you su-

"Y/n?"

You froze in your spot once you recognized the voice, accidentally sending your text half-finished. Forcing your body around you were met by Brandon Darrow's eyes.

"Get out." you warned holding up your phone in a threat to call 9-1-1.

"Just listen to me." Brandon pleaded taking a step towards you.

You were quick to step back running into your bathroom, Brandon tried to catch your wrist to get you to stop but only managed to knock your phone out of your hands. Before he could reach you you had already locked yourself inside the bathroom.

"Please just let me explain myself, y/n." he pleaded, wiggling the door handle.

"You're trying to kill us!"

"No i'm not! C'mon y/n/n please just listen to me!"

"Don't lie to me! Rowan saw you wearing the mask!" you screamed back at him once again before letting yourself slide down the door to sit on the floor.

"Just listen to me okay? A couple of years ago i logged onto the zoo website to talk shit about my dad, and i met monkey man." Brandon began to explain. "We bonded over our shitty dads and i gave him advice about his bullies." he continued before your smack on the door interrupted him.

"God, you're a liar!" you shouted trying to keep your tears away for the second time that night.

"No i'm not! I thought it was all your fault. I found Dunbar's phone at Nicki's party. I was going to get my bags back before the cops came and... look i was so pissed off because i thought it was all your fault he killed himself, okay? That's why i took his phone, and i sent you that message about the blood balloon."

"God, you're an asshole." you sobbed, covering your mouth with your hand.

"I felt so guilty, okay?" Brandon said. "That's why, when I got the phone, I logged onto MonkeyMan's account. I told them all that we should make you suffer; that we should make you pay. We came up with this stupid hunting idea. When Hailey got out, I texted you all. But when I saw Hailey's face after her audition, I felt so guilty, because I was just trying to make things better, and she was so scared and all I do is make things worse... Y/n i tried to tell them to stop online, you have to believe me, i did, but King Cobra... he was telling them to do really bad things to you. I tried to make it better. I tried to stop everyone, but it was too late."

"You were wearing that fucking mask, Brandon." you said. "Rowan saw you."

"It was a trick," Brandon insisted. "I wanted to find out who he was. Y/n, I started it, but I... I can't stop it." Brandon said, his voice shaking.

"I should've stayed away from you," you cried out, resting your forehead against the door. "Everyone warned me about you and how i shouldn't trust you, but you seemed like you'd changed. You seemed like my Brandon again, my best friend. I should've known it was too good to be true." you stated, a sob leaving your body.

"I'm sorry." Brandon whispered from the other side of the door before finally leaving you.

The next time you heard from him it was through Rowan. The brunette had called you a few hours after your fight with the boy, letting you know that he'd been arrested by the police.

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

Weeks had gone by and Brandon had finally been freed. You'd made a promise to yourself that you wouldn't go anywhere near him ever again, and you'd been successful at the task, that is if you count crying yourself to sleep over how much you missed him multiple nights a week as successful. It'd been hard to keep him away from you though. He'd called multiple times and even knocked at your door a handful of times. Rowan had insisted that you talked to him, but you always refused. The brunette, though, kept in contact with Brandon through her recently acquired step-brother, Trevor, who'd pressured her into looking after you for his best friend's sake.

One day as you got home from The Brew coffee shop, you received a text.

you better take a closer look at your boyfriend's little investigation before he gets hurt.

You felt a breath catch in your throat as you read the message, a picture of you and Brandon taken weeks ago attached. No, it should be bluff, Rowan had been keeping you updated on what Brandon was up to and she hadn't talked about any investigating. You hated that you still cared about his wellbeing but you couldn't just make your feelings disappear. Eventually you decided to lock your phone and move on with your life. A few hours later you received another text. You looked in horror as a video of Brandon tied up in a car with tape over his mouth filled your screen. look what i found. the text read. i warned you, bitch. now he pays.

You struggled to find your car keys, ready to leave for Stinger's place, when your phone started ringing and you swore you'd never accepted a call so quickly in your life. It was Rowan.

"We got the video too. Stinger has the location. Trevor is on his way to pick you up." Quickly thanking your friend you made your way out of the house just as the car pulled over, taking no time into getting on the passenger seat.

Once you got to the location you pushed your way through your friends before coming to a stop. On the wall of what you recognized as a freezer was some code: MrMT 113634 and right below it the words open me. You reached for the handle but the door didn't budge. "Shit" you muttered under your breath before picking up a broken brick from the ground and hitting the lock with it. After a few hits the door opened and you and your friends took no time into entering the freezer despite the cold. You pulled your jacket, (Brandon's jacket, you were yet to notice) tighter around your body as you looked around in disgust at all the animal corpses that filled the container. You finally pointed your lantern down to the floor, trying to avoid the carcasses that'd surely plague your nightmares later that night, when you spotted a shoe. Lifting your eyes from the ground your jaw dropped as you laid your eyes on an unconscious Brandon. His wrists were tied by a thick rope, his skin paler than you'd ever seen it and his lips almost just as blue as you remembered his eyes to be. You dropped to your knees before the boy as you screamed for help from your friends. You could tell Brandon was alive but you weren't sure if he'd stay that way for much longer if you didn't get him out soon enough. With the boys' help, Brandon was placed in the backseat of Trevor's car where you joined him shortly, carefully pulling the boy's freezing t-shirt over his head to replace it with your, well his jacket. You layed his head on your lap running your fingers through his icy hair. "You'll be okay, i'm right here." you told him, not bothering to keep your tears from falling when suddenly Brandon's eyes fluttered open, a relieved sigh leaving your body. He looked up at you, lifting up his hand to cup your cheek. "Don't cry, baby. You saved me." He said with a sad smile before starting to close his eyes again. "No, B, don't fall asleep on me, not now." you told him, grabbing his hand with yours before placing a kiss on its back. "Please stay with me, we're almost home." The boy in your lap opened his eyes again and you could tell it was hard for him to do so. "You're doing so good, love. Just hang in there." you pleaded, your voice trembling with fear.

It felt like it'd been hours when you finally goby to Stinger's. Once inside it was like your body was moving on its own as you went looking for blankets while the other girls went to make some tea and the boys placed Brandon on the couch. You crawled in the sofa next to him, wrapping him in the covers you'd found as he rested his head on your shoulder. You realized then that all the anger you'd felt towards him during the past weeks had dissipated the moment you saw him in that freezer.

"Are you okay?" Brandon asked noticing you drift off.

"You almost just froze to death and you're asking me if i'm ok?" you asked back letting your head fall on top of his.

Eventually Rowan and Elisia got back, handing Brandon the mug of tea. Everyone discussed the recent events until they decided to run to the train station to try and open the luggage locker. You got up from the sofa, Brandon following behind before you interrupted his movements.

"You're not going." you warned him, his mouth opening up in protest before you continued. "You almost just died, Brandon. You need to rest." the boy sighed in disappointment.

"You can stay at mine tonight. My parents aren't home. Do you think you can drop us off there on your way to the station?" you asked Trevor, receiving a nod from the boy.

"Woah, you sure you'll survive a night in my presence?" Brandon asked in a mocking tone.

"Shut up before i change my mind."

You got home not long after, moving to the kitchen to heat up some soup as Brandon took a sit on your couch. Leaving the kitchen you let your feet drag you back to the living room before handing him the bowl.

"Thanks." he muttered, starting to shove spoonfuls of the hot liquid into his mouth. Suddenly you were reminded of something quickly making your way up the stairs and into your bedroom before returning to the couch with something in your hands.

"What's that?" Brandon asked, his eyes moving to whatever you were holding behind your back as you sat down next to him, your hands moving to your lap as you revealed Fishy.

"I meant to give this back to you a while ago but then everything happened..." you began. Brandon interrupted, placing the now finished bowl down on the coffee table.

"I'm sorry." he said, his blue eyes locking with yours. "I'm so sorry i began all of this. I was just mad and i thought i was getting revenge for Dunbar but i just ended up hurting more people." You could sense the genuine guilt in his voice and your heart broke all over again. You looked down at your lap where your hands played with the stuffed animal.

"You know i tried to be mad at you, B, i really did. But at the end of the day when i got home from school all i wanted to do was curl up in bed with this stupid frog and cry. I missed you so much Brandon. I hated myself for it but i did." You confessed as the boy reached up his thumb to wipe away a tear you didn't realize was rolling down your cheek.

"I guess we both made mistakes uh?" he joked as you chuckled through watery eyes.

"Yeah i guess we did." you sighed getting up from the couch, wiping your eyes with the back of your hand. "You wanna take a shower or something? I still have one of your hoodies and my dad must have some sweatpants around."

"Yeah that'd be nice" Brandon said trying to ignore how happy he felt that you'd kept not only Fishy but also his hoodie and jacket.

"You know where the bathroom is, make yourself at home.." you said before leaving to your bedroom.

30 minutes later Brandon knocked on your door, already back from his shower.

"Okay you can sleep in my bed and i'll just sleep on the floor-" you started, already in your pajamas, before the boy interrupted you.

"No way. I'm not letting you sleep on the floor."

"Okay then i can go sleep in my parents' room..." you stated before picking up your pillow.

"Oh c'mon y/n/n i know you hate not sleeping in your room." he sighed taking a sit in your bed. "We can share the bed you know? It's not like we haven't done it before." he suggested looking up and you swore you could see a hint of hope in the blue of his eyes.

"Okay" you agreed just above a whisper as the boy began to settle in the bed. You layed down beside him, the both of you staring up at the ceiling where the glow in the dark stars you'd put up as children shone.

You took a big breath in before turning your head in his direction. "You know before i got the video of you i received a message..." Brandon turned to you encouraging you to keep going. "Mr Empty was threatening to hurt you if i didn't stop your investigation. He- I thought it was bluff cause Rowan had been giving me updates on you and she said you weren't investigating anything so i let it go. You almost got hurt because i refused to talk to you myself and i-"

"Hey it's ok." Brandon reassured you with a hand to your cheek, his thumb caressing your skin to try and get you to calm down. "You couldn't have known. Besides, you had valid reasons not to want to talk to me." he stated, a sad smile adorning his face.

"I just wish we could go back to before all of this started happening." you told him taking his hand in yours. "Before we drifted apart and when our only problem was making sure we were home on time for dinner." You smiled at the sweet memories that flooded your mind.

"It's my fault. I was the one who pushed you away and i'll never be able to apologize enough for that."

"It's ok, Brandon. I guess we both made mistakes..." you said repeating his statement from just a while ago, a sigh leaving your body. "We should probably get some sleep."

"Yeah. Goodnight y/n/n."

"Goodnight B." you replied before turning your back to him and drifting off.

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

You opened the door to the freezer and got inside, your flashlight illuminating the way. Your feet led you through the container before you came to a stop. Before you layed a lifeless Brandon. You fell to your knees screaming for help as you pulled the boy up as well as you could, hugging his freezing body to yours, trying to somehow bring him back to life. You kept screaming for help as you cried but no one would come. You were alone.

You woke up gasping for air as tears streamed down your face. You looked to your side to try to find some comfort on the sight of an alive Brandon only to find his side of the bed empty. Panic ran through your body as you struggled to get out of bed. What if they took him again? You thought to yourself as you ran down the stairs. What if he's really dead?

Reaching the end of the staircase you came to a stop as you locked eyes with a confused Brandon putting a cup of water down. Without thinking twice you threw yourself into the boy's arms, holding his body tightly against yours.

"Woah what happened?" he asked, concern filling his voice, as he hugged you back with just as much need.

"I had a nightmare and you were dead and then i woke up and you were gone and i thought... i thought..." you struggled to finish through broken sobs.

"It's ok. I'm right here, I'm ok. You saved me, remember?" he reassured you pressing a kiss to your head, but noticing you hyperventilating he held your face in his hands pulling you away just enough to rest his forehead against yours. "Hey, i'm safe y/n but i need you to breathe for me ok? Just take a deep breath." you did as he said breathing in slowly before breathing out. "Yeah just like that, baby. In and out." he kept reminding you until you finally started breathing normally again. He hugged you again muttering into your hair a low "Let's go to bed okay?" before leading you back to your bedroom. You layed down in your bed, resting your head on Brandon's chest. "Is this ok?" you whispered looking up to meet his eyes. "Yeah." he replied with a smile holding you tighter against him.

That night you both slept better than you'd slept in years. Brandon happy to finally have you in his arms again and you listening to his heartbeat, the steady rhythm a constant reminder that the boy you loved was safe and sound.

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a/n: this is my longest fic yet so please be gentle with me :') i'm not expecting a lot of people to read this at all, since the show isn't popular, but i figured this would be put to better use on my tumblr than forgotten on my notes app. so if this flops look away haha anyways for anyone who read: i truly hope you enjoyed. thank you for reading and treat people with kindness <3