#i just figured it was obvious that that's what it was but i shouldn't have assumed

[zerobaselove]

light in the dark | kim gyuvin

pairing: gyuvin x reader

genre: fluff

word count: 763

warnings: none. lowercase intended, not proofread

notes: im back!! hopefully pretty permanently. but i wanted to pick a random request to get me back in the zone a little so here we go,, i'm a little rusty so sorry everyone </3 i love you all lots i hope you're doing well!!

you were tired, exhausted even. so tired in fact, that you were sure the second your head hit the pillow your eyes would shut and you'd be on the ride to dreamland. oh how wrong you were.

the first half hour laying in darkness wasn't too bad, telling yourself maybe if you just laid there still for another few minutes that you would finally slip into a peaceful sleep. the half hour of that, not so fun. there was only so much tossing and turning you could too, only so many positions you could lay in in an attempt to finally get some rest.

the apartment you shared with your best friend was quiet, almost too quiet, and it was starting to get to you.

maybe i'll just get a drink of water. you thought to yourself as you hauled yourself out of bed, quietly slipping out of your bedroom and past your roommates door just across the hall. gyuvin shouldn't have to lose sleep just because you are, right?

you must have spaced out drinking your glass of water, trying to convince yourself that you could just lay down and fall asleep, because the voice emerging from the darkness nearly made your soul leave your body.

"you're still awake?" he called out quietly, the sound still amplified in your nearly empty apartment, the sleeping world outside only making everything feel that much louder. you let out a tired huff, "gyuvin you nearly gave me a heart attack," you took a second to steady your heartbeat, "but i could ask you the same, what're you doing up?"

he only shrugged as he walked closer, leaning against the island in the middle of the kitchen. his hair was messily laid across his forehead, dark circles found themselves under his eyes. even his shirt was all twisted around his tall frame, the small light on the counter made the collarbone peaking out from his oversized shirt more apparent... not that it mattered, obviously.

"go back to bed gyu, you look exhausted." you gave a small smile, bringing your hand up to fix the mop of hair on his head. only to have his hand grab yours gently, "you're the one who can't sleep," his usual goofy tone was gone, replaced with a soft, perhaps caring cadence. "don't think i didn't hear you kicking your blankets off the bed." a smile spread across his lips, despite the obvious concern for your wellbeing this evening.

you didn't know what to say other than mutter a brief apology for the disturbance, maybe you could've come up with something better, something more intelligible had the time not been pushing 3 in the morning. but that wasn't the case.

"you don't have to apologize," he said simply, squeezing your hand that was still in his, now hanging beside your standing figures. "what can i do to help?"

a moment of silence passed as you considered the options, considered what truly would help; you had no idea.

gyuvin seemed to take the silence as an answer in itself, simply tugging you back into your bedroom, hushing your protests about leaving the cup out on the counter. that's a tomorrow problem, he insisted.

he only let go of your hand for a moment to rearrange the blankets on your bed, picking up the ones that had been kicked off earlier in the night. he lightly hit the pillows in an attempt to fluff them, before hopping into your bed himself.

with his arms open he muttered a soft, "your turn." and before you could question him, he was grabbing your hand and dragging you into your own bed beside him, whether you liked it or not. but you were too tired to argue, and his embrace was too warm and inviting to resist, especially now.

his breathing so close to you would usually have you ready to playfully smack him, but like this? you could get used to this. it was safe. he was safe.

maybe it was the soft hands through your hair or the warm hand against your waist, but you felt yourself drifting off easier than before, and maybe it was just that sleepy haze that made you just that much more sentimental. "thank you gyuvin," you mumbled, breathing in the lingering scent of his body wash, "for everything, i love you."

you had started to drift off right as the words left your mouth, but you could've sworn you heard the boy mumble back as he pressed a kiss to your head. "i love you too y/n."

[da-cti]

Part 2 to redrawing obey me characters as images

[anarchopuppy]

I, a hearing person who likes subtitles just as a preference, shouldn't have to read a subtitle that's obvious nonsense, go back a couple seconds, and listen again in order to figure out what's going on. An accessibility feature should not be the most half-assed part of a professionally made production. Scripted media has absolutely no excuse for not having subtitles or having subtitles that aren't perfectly verbatim. Professional captioning services should be ashamed of the shoddy work that they put out. Captions should be treated as a part of the production, just like filming, editing, audio balancing, etc - and anything that releases with missing or bad captions should be seen as unfinished

[angelltheninth]

Genshin Men + It's Getting Harder to Sleep Without You

Pairing: Kaeya, Diluc, Thoma, Childe, Dottore, Pantalone, Neuvillette, Wriothesley, Zhongli x Reader

Tags: fluff, established relationship, domestic fluff, insomnia, kissing, cuddles, tea, naps, hurt/comfort, reunion, slight angst, purring (for Nauvillette and Zhongli)

A/N: I know I shouldn't say sorry for the lack of content lately but turns out that a novel takes a lot out of you. The good news it that it's almost done!

Kaeya falls asleep pretty easily on most nights on his ship, it's only in the last few weeks that he's had trouble. Staying up will make him sloppy so he would take a few walks outside under the sky and find himself thinking of you. This helped him sleep but only served to make him miss you more. Maybe the solution is to bring you along more often, then he can hold and kiss you every night, no more daydreaming for him.

Diluc has never had an easy time sleeping and it's always worse when he doesn't have you to hold. He would toss from one side of the bed to the next, eventually sighing in defeat and fully waking up until the next day. His tiredness was obvious and you weren't gonna have him falling asleep standing. A nap seemed like a good solution but he demanded you sit in his lap and cuddle him. Despite sleeping in a chair it was the best nap he's ever had.

Thoma sleeps like a baby after a long day... usually. For some reason it feels like something's been missing lately. No matter what he couldn't figure it out, his routine was the same. The only thing that he could think of was... oh, those late, very intimate nights with you. Were you the key? He wasn't sure but it was worth a try. You were like a big blanket on top of him, nuzzled against his chest. Just what he needed.

Childe forces himself to have a good sleep because otherwise it would get in his way of getting stronger. But lately he can't seem to sleep for long periods of time if you aren't there, which is troubling for his missions. To make up for lost time he sleeps in your bed every night after, hogging all your attention, his face firmly pressed against your chest and arms around you like you'll vanish at any moment.

Dottore tells himself he only needs a few hours of sleep every night. It was like that before he started letting you stay in his bed. After that he can't even get a few hours without your warm, most of the time naked, body laying against his. He will drink tea to make himself fall asleep by force, he did this many times before you saw him look all groggy and grumpy one night with a steaming cup in his hand. You took him by the arm and told him he needs to rest that dangerous brain of his, or else you won't ever sleep with him again.

Pantalone can only get a really good sleep if he's kissed you goodnight. Your kiss, gentle, soft and loving, is like the best sleeping medicine to him. Truly he's tried everything else and the moment he started kissing you one night when he was feeling frustrated he knew he found the solution to his insomnia. Now he just needed to make sure you're willing to make out for a little while before going to bed. An easy task seeing how you practically jump his bones after he comes home.

Neuvillete used to love sleeping with the sound of rain against the window. Yet now every time it rains it's due to his bed being too cold, too empty without you in it. He's gotten so used to you combing your fingers through his hair and smelling your sweet scent that now he's unable to rest otherwise. Only when you kiss him and tell him you're back to visit does the rain stop falling so fast, instead becoming a pleasant backdrop as he sighs, purrs and plants tired kisses on your exposed skin.

Wriothesley has a habit of late night workouts to burn his extra energy. Not necessary as much now that he's in a relationship with you, which is nice but messes with his routine. One that he's had for a very long time. Lately you've noticed him flexing his fists whenever you'll be separated for a time, but he will deny it if you bring it up. No, he won't say anything when you get home, just wrap his arms around you from behind and kiss your shoulder, his body shaking with all that pent up energy mixed with a lack of sleep. And only you can help with both.

Zhongli doesn't mind lack of sleep but he knows you do and he knows you're awake when he's awake. Therefore he decides to fix that by sleeping together with you when you stay over. It felt nice, really nice, too nice and he finds himself wishing for it more and more often. So much so that it becomes his only way of getting deep sleep, the rest are more like power naps. You can't complain either, the sounds of the content rumbling within his chest is very soothing to listen to while you sleep.

[xveenusx]

Wanted

Paring(s): JJ maybank x fem!reader

Summary: in a world where someone had everything, she still got treated like she was nothing. all she wanted was to be wanted.

Authors note: I wanted this piece piece to be as real as possible. It's not simple, its messy. We've all gone back to that one person we know we shouldn't just because being alone seemed worse. Also she gets absolutely railed so that helps. So please be kind to her lmfao.

Rating: smut, 18+, mdni, ANGST

Song rec: making the bed by olivia rodrigo

Part 1: Guilty

Bored. 

I was so incredibly bored. I leaned against the built in bar as I watched Topper and Kelce take body shots off some tourists they invited. The loud bass of the music did little to tune out the annoying voice of Amy Culpo, who stood next to me, and rattled on about my mother’s latest line. 

“I mean, it’s absolutely stunning.” I know it is. I was there when she designed it. “Any chance you have tickets to her next show?”

Ah, there it was. The brutal truth he reminded me of all those months ago. Every interaction was a strategic move to climbing the next prong on the social ladder. Everyone always wanted something. 

I used to fight that notion. I thought I was better than them because I actually cared about other people. My wealth did not define me nor how I treated other people, but despite every effort I made both before and after him, I realized none of it mattered. 

I couldn’t escape my wealth. It was permanently engraved into my body and no matter how hard I tried to scrub, it wouldn’t go away. I’ve now fully embraced that ugly truth and decided that I might as well use it to my advantage. I almost always had something that others wanted and I just had to figure out what they were willing to give. I didn’t need any more money, but there were things that were far more valuable. Favors, tickets to the hottest openings, plane rides. Since everyone already saw me as a spoiled little rich girl, I might as well play the part. 

‘Depends. Are those last season MIU MIU?” I asked, tossing a look at the shoes on her feet. 

“There from the season before-“ I pulled a face at her words. Before last season? I wouldn’t be caught dead wearing anything last season let alone the season before. 

“Oh honey, if those are two seasons old, then I highly doubt you have anything I want.” The shocked look on her face dulled the aching pain that seemed to permanently reside in my chest. 

“I can charter a plane-“

I raised my hand to silence her. “You don’t have your own?” 

What was she even doing here? 

This was a new little project of mine. I tossed away all those societal niceties that did little for me in the end. I still couldn’t get anyone to stay. This was much more fun. You’d be surprised by how much stuff you could get away with if you cut out all the bullshit.

Amy’s cheeks flushed red and maybe once I’d have felt bad or be disgusted by how I was treating her but I was numb. I realized nothing really mattered. Whether I was nice or rude, people all wanted the same things from me. At least this way, I could armor myself. 

“There’s my pretty girl.” Warm hands curled around my waist, tugging me against a hard body. 

I rolled my eyes. I wasn't his anything, Rafe knew that but he’s always had a flare for the dramatics. Tom Ford’s Noir de Noir filled my nose as I swatted at his hands, hands that I’ve grown quite familiar with. 

“You left me.” I shot him a bratty look, one he met head on with a smile. Amy still stood there awkwardly, clearing her throat in an obvious attempt to gain my attention. 

I turned around in Rafe’s arms, debating my next move. Almost immediately his chin came to rest on the top of my head while his arms curled around my front.

My eyes shot one last distasteful look at her outfit, before tossing out my arm in the opposite direction. “Shoo.”

She huffed before stomping away but not before shooting me one final glare. A look that would have made me cry before, but now it simply dinged off the impenetrable armor I’ve suited myself with. 

“I was hoping it’d build character, but clearly that didn’t work.” I could hear the smile in his words as he pressed a kiss on the top of my head. 

“The entire conversation was dull. She didn’t even have a jet, plus her shoes were two seasons ago.” I shuddered in disgust. Could never be me.

Rafe clutched his chest in mock disgust,”Not two seasons.” 

I let out a huff, my chest going warm at the teasing glint in his eye.

There was no spark. There were no butterflies. Just familiarity and warmth. It was safe. We both knew what this was and expected nothing more. For now, we were just having fun. Despite the fact that I spent most nights at his place and rarely found myself without him.

I’ve found somewhat of a friend in Rafe. Someone to share the burden of being from a family like ours. He understood me. He enjoyed shiny things just as I did. 

We spent a lot of our time going to the mainland because the idea of running into him still sent me to my knees. This was a small island. One that he was spending all his time running around with her instead of me. Rafe never said a word about it, never mentioned his sister or her pogue friends. And for that, maybe I do love him a little.

“You make fun of me now, but you’d still be wearing polo shirts and plaid shorts if it weren’t for me.” My hands smooth down the front of his linen light blue shirt, the first several buttons open paired with some black Gucci slacks and a black belt from Dolce & Gabbana. He no longer looked like a frat douche but a member of upper class society. 

The same can’t be said about his friends.

“C’mon. Top and Kelce want us over there.” Rafe grasped my hand and tugged me in the direction of drunken yells. I pursed my lips but trudged behind him. The idea of being thrown up on was less than appealing, but being by myself was even less appealing.

“Hey guys.” Rafe nodded at them, taking a seat on the adjacent couch, a table with all sorts of drugs littered on it in between them. 

The pair of them were obliterated, both their pupils blown wide and their speech slurred. That didn’t stop them from tossing me a sloppy grin and shouting a greeting. 

The spot next to Rafe was vacant but on the other end was a couple gnawing each other's faces off that had me scrunching my nose up in disgust. He surely didn’t expect me to sit next to that?

He didn’t even bat an eye, instead Rafe patted his lap, tugging at my hand to sit down. “Wanna drink, baby?” 

I nodded, deciding to once again indulge. It was better than feeling that stabbing pain that burned in my chest. It was a horrible solution but one that Rafe always supported, in fact he often took part in self-destructing with me. We were done with trying to be perfect for parents who couldn’t give less of a fuck. 

A red solo cup with a familiar yellow concoction was waved in front of me. The pungent scent of tequila burned my nose and I shot him a secret smile. Rafe’s blue eyes narrowed in on me, glued on my smile before he shook his head in amusement. 

“That’s the kinda night we’re going for?” He asked, his hand slowly gripping my thigh. 

“Unless you don’t want to?” I sighed dramatically, pushing his dark blonde strands back from his face, something I knew he loved. 

“If I ever say no to that question, feel free to shoot me.” 

A giggle escaped my lips as I tapped my cup against his before bringing it to my lips, tilting my head back and zeroing it out. 

The tequila left a burning trail down my stomach that I welcomed. It meant I was one step closer to not feeling anything at all. 

“Another?” Rafe’s eyes pointed at my now empty cup and I nodded. 

Being responsible was so overrated. 

Lifting his hand up, almost immediately two younger boys, about 16, appear. Rafe pointed at me, muttering something before the pair nodded and took off.

I raised my eyebrow at him, confused. 

He just shrugged, leaning forward to touch the golden pendant that hung from my neck. “I promised them tickets to the Charleston basketball game if they did whatever I said.”

“Why?” 

“I was bored,” He hummed in response,”This is new, it’s pretty..” 

I smiled back at him, the very picture of nonchalance, before replying,”Thank you. You bought it for me.” 

His ocean eyes rested on me, the infatuation clear as day that had my stomach clenching. “Course I did. I have great taste.” 

Rafe gave me his card about two months ago, not that I needed it, but he enjoyed taking care of me and I didnt mind. Plus, whenever he made me mad, I made sure to run the bill up, hoping for some type of reaction but it only left him amused. 

Nerves gnawed at my stomach at the intense eye contact. Maybe the lines have blurred slightly. Clearing my throat to try and break the tension, I tossed my hair over my shoulder. “Want to see what else you bought me?”

“Enlighten me.” 

I flashed him my freshly manicured nails, “What do you think?” 

Rafe caught my hand, a half smile painted on his face, and kissed it. “Is that passion pink?” 

“It’s actually bubblegum blush.” 

“Beautiful, baby. I love it.” His words burned into my chest. 

It was hard to describe. His approval had butterflies thrumming in my stomach. Maybe it was because we were stuck in similar situations, but his approval suddenly meant something to me. Being with him meant I wasn’t alone. 

“You know we’re right here, right?” Topper's voice cut through the tension and I let out a laugh, relieved to look away. 

“Fuck off.” Rafe laughed, regaining his composure as well. 

Topper leaned forward holding out a black AMEX for me to take. My eyes paused on the card before shooting him a flat look. 

“Are you kidding?” 

Topper gave me a blank look, not a thought behind those eyes. 

I rolled my eyes and stuck my nose up in mock outrage. “Rafe does it for me.” 

The annoyed look on Topper’s face sent a thrill through my body. He was the easiest to rile up and Rafe knew it as he hid his chuckle with a quick cough. 

The hand on my bare thigh slowly drew circles, the action almost unconscious, which had my brain blanking. It was a relief to not think. To not remember. To not feel. 

“Are your hands broken?” 

“No. I’m too pretty.” I shrugged, batting my lashes at him.

Topper openly scowled at me, his eyes dropping to where Rafe’s hands held me tightly. “What happened to the nice little girl who cried about everything?”

“Lay off.” Rafe snipped, leaning forward and snatching the AMEX out of his hand. His movements were quick and precise, with ease that only came with experience. 

He separated the coke into three lines, one for me and two for him, just like always. 

Bending over, I snorted the line quickly. Turning to hand Rafe the hundred dollar bill, his fingers dust off any remaining powder off my nose, before he bent over and did the same.

I leaned back into Rafe, the mixture of the tequila and the sting of the coke had me feeling sublime. It was a perfect balance. The alcohol got me warm and buzzed while the coke kept me awake and alert, an upper and a downer, a perfect description for every emotion in my body. 

“I grew up.” 

Topper hummed. “You certainly did.”

For the next hour, my mind never drifted to him. I enjoyed having thoughts that were my own, that didn’t revolve around him. Instead, my thoughts focused on the man below me. Rafe was always touching me. Even more so than usual, his hand never left my body once. If I let go of his hand to reach for my drink, he’s just moved it to my thigh. It was almost possessive which was odd, we didn’t do possessive. 

Every couple moments, he’d pause in the middle of a conversation to press small kisses anywhere his lips could reach. It seemed performative, but I just couldn’t prove it.

“You’re thinking too hard.” His hot breath hot against the shell of my ear. 

I said nothing for a moment before licking my lips and muttering,”Are you okay? You seem more clingy than usual?” 

He just nodded, pulling me to his hard chest, his eyes darting to the side. “I just like having you with me.”

The sentiment was sweet and my heart tugged at his words. But, I couldn’t let go of the feeling that I was missing something. “I like having you with me too.” I allowed myself to give him a sliver of vulnerability, something I’ve avoided like plague, because it was true. He made living just a bit easier.

My head began to spin as I felt the lines of our odd friendship begin to blur. I knew neither of us would admit the sudden shift but it was there. I could tell with each lingering gaze and those secret touches. Maybe there was something here. I just had to give in.

“I’m glad you came to your senses,” He responded, but once again his eyes are not on mine but darting around me. 

“What does that have to do with anything?” My voice comes out hushed, hoping it would get him to lower his voice. 

My smile from his previous confession dimmed. Nerves slowly began to surface as I tried to read between the lines.

“You do belong with me, at least that's what you scream every night, isn’t that right baby?” He was boasting, loud enough to have his boys give him lame-ass high fives. 

The small burst of happiness curdled like old milk in my stomach. I wasn’t a prude, not by a long shot, but I was a private person. Rafe knew this and he was still flaunting our private moments in a way that made me feel dirty. 

“Stop talking about me like that.” I said, “What’s gotten into you?” 

I felt Rafe go rigid under me. Frowning, I tilted my head back to make sure he was alright but his eyes were glued ahead. 

“Rafe, I’m here for my stuff. Where did you say you put it again?” 

My head turned and my stomach did a backflip. Sarah stood at the entrance of the room, looking immensely uncomfortable. 

John B stood behind her, his big brown puppy-like eyes widened at the sight of me on Rafe’s lap. Or maybe it was because of  the coke laid out in front of me? 

But wherever he was, JJ wasn’t far behind. John B whispered something in Sarah’s ear, her eyes jumped to me for a split second before returning to his. She nodded and John B made a beeline for the other room. 

I let out a choked laugh. I’m sure he was going to report back to his little lap dog. What were they even doing here in the first place? It’s not like Rafe knew-

My brain clicked into place. The constant need to touch me and the over the top PDA was because he was here. Rafe knew he was here and wanted to rub it in his face. 

Rafe’s words were never for me. They were for him.

None of this was real. Not the endearing names, not the proclamations of affection. An ice bucket of realization poured over me and I felt like a fool. A fool for thinking that somebody else could want me, could maybe even love me.

Fuck this. Fuck both of them. 

“You knew.” I accused, shoving his hands off of my body. 

Rafe said nothing, but the flicker in his eyes gave him away. I wasn’t safe with him either. Embarrassment oozed into me, the feeling painstakingly familiar. We agreed to never make each other feel this way since our parents did it enough, but he did it to me. 

Don’t think. Don’t feel. 

Snatching the cup out of his hand, I forced it down, gulp by gulp, wincing at the burn. Straight tequila. “Babe-“

“Shut up.” I hissed, moving off his lap and shoving Topper to move over. Everyone always wanted something from me. 

They never just wanted me.

Maybe I was defective. I had to be. 

JJ didn’t love me when I was me. When I cared about other people and sacrificed pieces of my happiness for them.

Rafe didn’t love me now. When I was a spoiled brat who treated everyone like a transaction. 

It didn’t matter if I was nice or a total raging bitch. Either way, I couldn't get anyone to love me.

I was just the stepping stone they used before they found the person they really wanted to be with. I was just there to make them feel good about themselves. For them to take and take just to toss me aside when they were done. Leaving me a shell of a person with no one, not even myself.

I guess, I was impossible to love.

“Line it up, Topper.”

“Can I at least get a please?”

“Be lucky that I’m even talking to you.”

Topper scoffed but did what I asked, lining up two lines of chalky white powder. “There you go, princess:” 

A rolled hundred dollar bill was held out in front of me. Plucking it out of his fingers. I bent over the table. Don’t think. Don’t feel. 

Dragging the cylinder bill down the crystal snow powder I’ve grown to love, I inhaled deeply. The chemicals flowing through the nose. I could practically feel the coke dissolving into my bloodstream, my body vibrating in response. 

Dropping the bill on the table, I tilt my head back, begging my brain to shut off. I closed my eyes and chose to focus on the beat of the music that had my heart thrumming in my chest.

Then it happened.

All the air in the room was sucked up. The hair behind my neck stood up and my body suddenly awakened in a way it hadn’t in months. 

My body recognized him before my brain did. The moment I opened my eyes, his eyes clashed with mine.

JJ.

It was like seeing him for the first time, a memory I thought I would never get the chance to feel again. 

Heavy set blonde brows framed his bright blue eyes beautifully, the strong cut jaw that was currently clenched, and his lips soft and pouty, tightly pressed in a flat line. This face, his beautiful face, wouldn’t be complete without some mark. A bruise, a soft purple and yellow hue, decorated his cheek bone. His bottom lip busted. 

He was so beautiful. 

My body reacted before my brain could follow. I stood up quickly, too quickly that the blood rushed to my head and the room seemed to spin. 

God, he was beautiful. And I fucking hated him for it. He was supposed to be like me, a complete and total mess, but instead, he looked the same, even better actually. 

That thought alone had me ready to jump off the balcony.

My movements were clumsy and I drunkenly stumbled while standing still, his eyes clocking that in seconds. 

Despite the loud music, I noticed the silence coming from the couch. 

My eyes jumped to Rafe. All the laughter around us died off and everyone was exchanging nervous looks. It didn’t take a genius to read the room and the situation I’ve somehow managed to put myself in. 

Blue eyes flickered between the two of us. It cracked my chest open wide and opened the floodgates I’ve been trying so hard to keep closed. 

The crushing inescapable weight of shame hit me first. I was plastered, obviously so, and high as a kite. The evidence of what I’d been doing displayed out in front of me like a flashing sign. And I was fucking the one guy he hated. 

It was unreasonable, I know. He left me and even pushed me in the direction of the one guy he hated and yet, I was the one feeling bad. He hasn’t even opened his mouth yet and it’s been turned onto me. But love never makes sense. It made the most sane people lose every coherent thought, I was the prime example.

“You should probably go, bro.” Rafe said, his tone was anything but. 

He moved from his spot on the couch and stopped beside me. Rafe shoved a hand in one pocket while the other reached for mine, but I folded my arms across my chest. Mostly because I was mad at him, but a part of me didn’t want JJ seeing that. 

JJ didn’t spare him a second glance.

He had on a dark blue short sleeve button down shirt with black cargos and chunky black boots on his feet. A backwards red hat settled nicely on the blonde mass of wavy hair and his shark necklace hanging against the exposed part of his chest. 

It was so JJ. All of it, right down to the colorful bracelets that littered his wrists. 

A hand grasped my chin and tilted up. I held my breath. His fingers slid along my jaw and he rubbed his thumb over the skin. His eyes felt like lasers, honing in on every detail of my face. 

I swallowed audibly. JJ leaned in closer, bringing his height down to mine. His thumb brushed a soft stroke below my nose while his lips brushed against my ear. 

“You had a little something on your nose.” 

JJ let go of my face, his expression hard. Then he brushed past me, leaving a gaping wound in his wake. 

Tears burned behind my closed eyes. He didn’t need to say it because I already knew what he was thinking. Sure, JJ smoked some weed but he never touched any of the hard stuff, not wanting to pick up the same habits as his dad. Hard drugs were a hard limit for him and he found me snorting several lines of it. 

I went and became the very thing he hated, just like he wanted. It didn’t feel as satisfying as I thought it would. Instead, I felt like I lost another piece of myself. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” I said to Rafe, finally gathering the courage to open my eyes. 

He shuffled beside me. “Him being here wasn’t going to change anything.”

We both knew that was a lie.

“It’s him, Rafe. It changes everything for me.” 

Rafe scoffed and shook his head. “You’re really going to try and go back to that?”

“I’m not saying that-” I spluttered out, outraged as his voice continued to carry across the room. 

“He didn’t want you.” 

People around us began to whisper, their heads huddled together with their phones out. Wet hot tears threatened to fall as the control I took months to master began to unravel. 

“Yeah, well you don’t either.” 

“What the hell are you talking about? Before he got here, everything was perfect.”

“I’m not stupid. You think I didn’t notice what you were doing? That wasn’t for us, that was for him.”

“I didn't mean for you to think I was using you-“

I gripped his chin, and pulled his face down to my height, my eyes brimming with angry tears. “You don’t use me. I use you.” I shoved his face back, needing to collect my composure. 

Everyone’s eyes were on us and I was desperate to save face. It was the only thing I had left. 

“Get the fucking picture?”

“Crystal clear.” He responded through gritted teeth, his eyes hard. 

“If you want a whore, go buy one.” 

Rafe cleared his throat, his face iced over. “I thought that’s what I was already doing.”

I stood there for a moment, not understanding what I did to deserve to be treated like this by not one man but two. I felt like an idiot. Like the stupidest fucking person on this god forsaken planet. 

Two hours ago, I thought that maybe Rafe had feelings for me and played with the idea of exploring that with him. And now, I was a gold digging whore. 

I felt another piece of my heart break off, mourning the loss of the only friendship I really had.

Pressing my hair down with my hands, I look down to fix my dress, swallowing as I went, hoping to pull myself together and buy some time. 

“I’m glad to hear how little you think of me.” I sent him a sad smile,” I guess I’m keeping up with everyone’s expectations.” 

I stepped around him, heading to the direction of the bar, the adrenaline from all the excitement having effectively killed my buzz. 

Staring at the bottles of liquor on the counter had me frowning, all being some bottom shelf brand I’ve never heard of. I moved around the bar to the cabinets behind it, looking for the good tequila. It was the least Rafe could do seeing as though he just blew up whatever the fuck we were doing. 

Spotting the only tequila I drank, I grabbed the entire handle. Twisting the top off, I tossed it aside carelessly before taking a healthy swig. Then another. And another. 

I stumbled into another room, shoving people out of my way. I ignored the angry shouts because I was way past the point of caring. I just-I just wanted to see him.

As if someone heard my thoughts, I spotted JJ leaning against a wall with a lit joint dangled between his fingers and a beer in the other. 

He had so much charisma, it demanded the attention of the room. People gravitated towards him all the time but he refused to see himself that way. 

Even now, he stood surrounded by several people, including a girl who was too close for my liking, and they were hanging onto every word. All of their bodies angled towards him, nodding along. The people around them curiously moving in to hear more of the story that had so many of them laughing. 

It was almost ironic. It was the point I was trying to prove all those months ago. Kooks vs. Pouges was bullshit. Because, right now JJ is telling a story to a bunch of Kooks who were eating it right up. Neither parties cared about their status, they just wanted to socialize and have fun. 

Why couldn’t he see that? 

The organ in my chest began to flutter, the butterflies erupting in my stomach at his nearness. Panic began to set in. I thought I’d pushed it all down. 

All it took was seeing him. Just once. For the last couple months of progress to be thrown out the window. I made sure to not feel anything anymore, because the alternative destroyed me. And yet, there he stood, looking like every dream I’ve ever had, and completely disarming my very being with one look. 

I never wanted to feel that way again. My heart was open and my soul was bared, but I was naive. I thought love was supposed to be empowering. But really, it was poison. It slowly entered your bloodstream, coating every vein before slowly taking over every organ. It leaked into your brain and made you lose all common sense. The poison tricked you into thinking that certain treatment was okay because at least they were here. At least, they still wanted to be with you because they love you, right? 

But eventually, like all things lacking an antidote, it began to cut off your oxygen. It curled around your lungs and squeezed until you gasped for breath with tears staining your face. It didn’t matter how much you screamed and shouted, nothing came out. The last organ it takes over is your heart. That silly little organ who was so trusting begins to pump faster, desperately trying to get that oxygen to your brain, because maybe then you’ll finally be able to think clearly. But in the end, it slows down. Each pump is slower than the last until finally it comes to a stop. The heart broke. 

It’s the closest thing to dying I’ve ever experienced.

It was like drowning on dry land.

His words did not leave me dented, but destroyed. 

I lost my sense of myself. I lost my identity. I put on a performance every time I left my house, wanting to see just how far I could get away with treating people the same way they treat me. 

At first it didn’t feel good, but now I didn’t feel anything at all. Or so I thought until I saw him again. And I just want to see that he was doing okay and maybe, if I can admit it, to see if he still loved me, however little that may be.

I watched from my spot on the other side of the room as the crowd began to disperse, leaving JJ with some blonde. I vaguely recognized her from a shoot for one of my mom’s brands. I believe her parents worked in the fashion industry as well. Which would have been fine, had she not said something that had him give her one of those rare smiles, the ones he used to give me in private. 

Nausea roiled in my stomach, maybe it was all the tequila or maybe it was seeing him smile at someone else when all I wanted was for him to smile at me. 

She leaned into him, a coy smile played her lips, running her fingers down the shirt I bought him, which basically made it mine. And I hated when people touched my things.

The mix of tequila and coke emboldened me. I found my feet moving in their direction before I could stop myself. 

“I wouldn't waste your time.” I could not get myself to stop talking.

“Why’s that?” The blonde’s eyes narrowed, her cheaply manicured hand resting on JJ’s bicep.

“JJ doesn’t go for kooks or so I’ve been told.” 

“Maybe he just didn’t go for you.” Oh, how cute. 

“Oh honey,” I sighed dramatically and took one step towards her, tilting my head to the side, dragging my eyes up her body, in obvious distaste. “Are you new here?”

“Well, yeah but-“ She tried to explain. 

Clearly, she needed a run through on how the social ladder worked here. I was at the top and everyone else was at the bottom. 

“Your mom works for some brand from Paris right?” I watched as her eyebrows pulled together in confusion. 

“She does. We moved here because she’s doing a collab with-“

“With my mom.” 

“So I suggest you take your hand off of him,” I smiled on cue, my tone dipped in sugar before batting my eyelashes at her innocently,” Unless you want her blacklisted?” 

I could see her debating what to do. She didn’t know if I was bluffing but she'd learn rather quickly just how far I was willing to go. 

“Hmm, cute shoes.” I hummed, “Chanel?” 

She nodded, apprehension on her face. 

“Won’t be able to buy those anymore if your mom doesn’t have a job.” 

Her hand fell and satisfaction settled into my like molten lava. “You can go now.” 

The blonde pursed her lips and stalked off, leaving me alone with JJ. “Trying a new type”

“And what type would that be?”

“Desperate.”

JJ tipped his mouth, saluting me before taking a sip of his drink. His eyes already glazed over from the joint in his hand. 

“A thank you would be nice?” I muttered, taking another pull from my tequila. I couldn’t talk to him sober or I’d lose my nerve.

“A thank you?” He appeared almost amused, adjusting his red hat. 

“Yeah, I just saved you.”

“I didn't realize I needed saving.” 

“Self-preservation was never really your strong suit was it?” 

JJ laughed, his eyes straying to the bottle cradled in my arms. “I could say the same thing, Princess.” 

Fuck him for calling me that. So what, I’ve learned to indulge just a little. It made everything in my life a little more manageable. 

“It’s called having fun, JJ.” Pouting as he snatched the bottle from arms just as I went to take another shot. “Since when did you become the responsible one?”

JJ leveled me with an unamused stare. 

I huffed, blowing a stray strand of hair out of my face. “Tough crowd.”

JJ snorted, pushing the leaves of a nearby plant back before dumping the remaining tequila. My mouth dropped open as he wasted every last drop of my liquid courage. 

How the hell was I going to talk to him now? 

I pursed my lips, “That was mean.”

“I’m doing what your boyfriend should have done an hour ago.” His gaze fixed on my face, the intense stare causing my cheeks to turn red. God, would he stop staring at me?

“He doesn’t tell me what to do.”

“Then he shouldn’t have left you alone.” His tone laced with annoyance, “You have all these fuckers staring at you and you’re wasted.”

I tilted my head back to stare up at him, the annoyance I knew came from a place of panic. That was just how JJ was wired. 

“So you’re in love with me?” Someone come arrest me, because I cannot keep my mouth closed.

JJ shook his head clearly fighting back a smile. “You’re so crazy.” 

“What else could that mean?” I asked truthfully and I knew I had a love struck smile on my face. One that I’ve only given to one man in my life and he stood in front of me.

I just wanted to be near him. I wanted to hear his laugh and see him smile.

His face softened at my words. “Are you okay? Does he take care of you?”

“Of course, I’m okay. Why do you ask?”

“Only one of us is fucking loaded.” 

I rolled my eyes and plucked the joint from his fingers. “Correct me if I’m wrong, and we both know I rarely am, are you not high too?” 

“Not from cocaine.”

“Already back to judging so soon?” I mused, taking a hit off the joint, the familiar stinging sensation wrapped around my lungs and squeezed. “Careful, I might think you care.”

Kill me now. Thank god, he took away the tequila.

“Who said I ever stopped?” My heart lurched in my throat.

I blew the smoke out slowly, my fogged up brain rushing to keep up with his words. 

Someone stumbled in front of me, slamming into my shoulder sending me flying forward into JJ’s arms. Something cold and wet splattered onto me, the bitter liquid dripping down my legs.

“Are you blind?” I shouted, shoving another drunk party goer off me. Looked like a tourist. 

She held her hands up in apology.

“I’m so sorry. Here, let me help.” To my absolute horror, this fucking tourist used a napkin and went to scrub the stain. Are these people animals? This was custom versace.

“Stop!” My cheeks flushed, from the weed or from my constant streak of bad luck. “Clearly, you’ve never owned anything worth keeping but this is Versace, you dick.”

I needed to go home before I burned this entire house down. 

“Is that how you talk to people now?”

I let out a loud groan. “Oh fuck off, JJ.”

I shoved him away from me, before grabbing the skirt of my dress and heading into the nearest bathroom, which just so happened to be Rafe’s. 

In reality, I just needed to get away from him. I needed my hands to be busy so that I couldn't grab his face and kiss him. Because I really wanted to do that. 

The sound of footsteps have my eyes widening in panic as I take in my ruined dress. All because of that blonde asshole next to me, if he hadn’t showed up, I’d still have my tequila and my sanity.

“I wanted to talk.”

I made a noise at the back of my throat. That didn’t sound like JJ at all.

“Fine, whatever. Close the door.” I didn’t need a million other people to see me lose my shit. I was already at my quota for the day. 

Jj stared at me with a confused look. “Close the door.” I nearly shout as the footsteps get closer but he moves just as quickly and slammed it shut, putting the lock in place.

“I just got this piece too.” I grumbled, huffing at the stained skirt. It was the Medusa 95’ Cut Out Mini dress in a stunning pastel pink. And now ruined with a beer stain from that horrible girl outside. 

“I remember this one.” JJ spoke from behind me. Of course he did. He remembered everything I bought. 

He always demanded fashion shows after all my shopping trips. He knew nothing about clothes but he always paid attention to me. He used to sit for hours while I prattled on and on about clothes.

“Unzip me?” 

“I’m sorry?” He choked out, setting his beer down.

“I need to clean it before it stains. Unzip me.” 

In hindsight, I was goading him. I wanted to see what he would do. I could tell he was already on edge since seeing me with Rafe. I wondered what a little push would do.

Neither of us moved for a beat. JJ puffed out a breath from his cheeks before he walked toward me slowly. I remained stock still, watching his every move in the mirror.  “It’s not like you haven’t seen it all before.” 

My heart fluttered at his nearness. Something I wanted since the minute he turned around and left. Home, I wanted my home back.

I jumped up at the feel of his warm breath against the back of my neck, goosebumps rising instantly. The tug of the zipper had me swallowing the lump in my throat. His other finger caressing every inch of skin, the zipper surrendered. 

The sound of the zipper stopped but he never dropped his hand. Instead, I watched as JJ swallowed before lifting his head, those storming blue eyes connecting with mine in the mirror. 

I stood on my Magda Butrym Appliquéd satin sandals and a flimsy pair of tiny panties. 

“I feel like this is a test.” I watched his Adam's apple bob as he swallowed.

“Is it?” I mused, tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear. 

“Yeah and I’m failing.” 

The pads of his thumb brushed along my bottom lip, dragging it down slowly. My lips parted as a soft whimper escaped. 

“You’re still so beautiful, it hurts.” He murmured, almost angry with the revelation. 

Blistering hot satisfaction dripped over me. 

JJ’s other hand grazed my bare back, the contact immediately chasing my back to arch. Sparks of sensitivity erupted from my skin as my body trembled with hot desire. 

His hand moved higher, gripping onto my hair before wrapping the long strands around his hand, tugging my head back, demanding my attention. 

He stared at me with heavy lids, eyes like ocean blue blades. My body began to heat up. 

JJ’s eyes dropped back to my lips causing me to the lick them quickly. He backed me up against the Jack and Jill sink, my back resting against the cool granite counter. 

I blinked slowly, making the decision for him, angling my head up and smashing my lips to his. 

A groan ripped from his chest as he met my kiss with the same crippling desperation. His rough hands dropped from my face to my hips, his nails digging crescent shaped marks in the skin. 

My legs began to slightly shake as his tongue finally brushed against mine. Oxygen was something neither of us needed as we fed off each other's energy. 

His tongue licked and twirled around my own, another moan vibrating between us. JJ’s large hand trailed up skin, goosebumps appearing in its wake, before locking around my throat. 

His grip was strong, not enough to cut off my oxygen but enough to garner my attention. He pulled me up to my tippy toes by my neck, my nipples brushing against the rough fabric of his shirt making me gasp at the contact. His mouth clashed with mine once more, his lips wrapped around my tongue, sucking gently before pulling back and biting out a curse. 

My hands were desperate as they began to unbutton his shirt quickly, pushing the fabric off his shoulders. JJ whipped off the shirt just as my hands began reaching for his shorts, my fingers fumbling with the button. 

The laugh he let out was devastating. His smile was purely lethal for my heart. “We got all the time in the world, princess.” 

My stomach clenched at the nickname he gave me all those years ago. But, we didn’t. We both knew this moment would end the minute we came to our senses. 

JJ unbuttoned his pants and dropped them in one smooth movement before pressing his warm body against mine once more.

“Up, baby.” My arms wrapped around his neck immediately, my nose grazing his. JJ gripped my thighs tight as he placed me on top of the counter. 

He rested the palm of his hands on either side of me, enclosing my frame, daring me to move. JJ leaned down, his lips leaving phantom kisses along my collarbone, nipping as he went along. He stopped at the swell of my breasts, both hands encasing my heavy aching breasts before pressing them together. 

He pressed scorching hot, open-mouthed kisses on every inch of exposed skin. His tongue pressing against my swollen nipples before closing around one and giving a strong suck. I was a mess beneath him, my chest heaving with heavy pants. 

He nipped and tugged at the soft flesh of my breasts, leaving small purple love bites scattered on my chest. He pressed a kiss on each one, a pleased hum echoing within the bathroom. 

JJ dropped to his knees slowly, each hand running down my bare legs. I wanted to see him. 

I leaned back on the palm of my hands and arched my back in a teasing invitation. Pulling my legs from his grasp, I propped my feet up on the counter, but kept my knees bent, the tops touching.

The utter obsession that painted his face had me biting down on my lip hard enough to draw blood. “Please, Jayj.”

He stood stock still, similar to a statue. It looked like he almost stopped breathing as I slowly pushed my knees apart. I was drenched, I could feel myself soaking the skimpy fabric of my thong, my thighs glistening with the evidence of my arousal. 

JJ’s eyes went black, locking in on my wet pussy before jumping back up to me. His hands found my thighs and roughly dug into the skin to keep my legs from closing. 

He leaned forward, his index finger hooking the front of my thong before curling the fabric and tugging it up roughly between my lips. “Fuck.” I mewled, watching as he pressed his face between my legs and inhaled deeply. 

I could feel my clit throbbing, needing to be touched. With one more tug, JJ slaps the side of my thigh, having me lift my hips up to take the last piece of fabric off my body. An insatiable grin formed on his face that went straight to my clit.

The first touch onto my lips had my hips shooting off the counter, his touch like electricity. He blew a breath against the aching skin, his hot mouth watering at the sight of me. Two fingers pushed apart my drenched folds, rubbing against the sensitive skin again and again, turning me into a mindless puddle. 

He smirked at my trembling legs. “You okay, baby?”

“Fuck off.” I responded through gritted teeth, trying to gather myself. 

He dipped forward, gathering saliva before slowly spitting it out, the stream of spit pattering against my spread lips. The sound was obscene. 

“That’s not very nice.” 

Tears of frustration began to build up as I discarded my hands into those loose blonde strands, knocking his hat off. “You love it.”

The grin he sent me was feral and I knew this was exactly what I needed. “I sure do, princess.”

He enclosed his mouth against my swollen clit and sucked roughly, a loud shout erupting from the depths of my chest. JJ parted my lips again, forcing his tongue inside and out, again and again, devouring every inch of my pussy. 

My cunt clenched against his tongue making him moan loudly. My body was burning as he swirled his tongue along the bundle of nerves once more. Another cry left me as I tried to find something to grab onto. His tongue lapped up all the fluids that continued to come out and I found myself forgetting how to breathe. 

I pushed his face deeper, grinding against his nose that continuously rubbed against my clit, my fingers tugging at his hair, needing a release. The knot in my lower stomach began to tighten as I whispered his name again and again like a prayer. The sound of my breathy pleas spur him on as he slipped two fingers in my pussy, meeting no resistance. 

The squelching noises had me throwing my head back against the mirror which had begun to fog up. I clenched around his large fingers that rubbed against my sensitive walls wanting him to lose control. 

JJ curled his fingers upward causing my knees to buckle and my mind go blank. I was close and he knew based on the tremors the shook my legs. I could barely hold myself up as everything went fuzzy. 

A choked moan escaped my lips that curled into a ‘o’ as his mouth sucked that rigid spot of flesh while his fingers continued to hammer into me. The invisible band snapped and as a wave of pleasure washed over me. My body finally began to relax as I tried to catch my breath, my chest rising and falling dramatically. 

I spared a glance at him. JJ’s eyes were low, eyes pitch black and glued to my face, and his cheeks flushed red. He looked pussy drunk. 

“Looks like I have to clean you up.” He mumbled against the flesh of my thighs. My eyes rolled to the back of my head as his hot tongue began to catch all the arousal that dripped down my thighs. I was sensitive and tried to move back, but his hands locked around my thighs to keep them open. Shives forced their way up my spine as he lapped all my fluids up, humming as he went along, not leaving one bit of skin untouched. JJ pressed one last kiss before pulling back and licking his lips.

My heart hammered through my chest and vaguely though my haze of pleasure did I hear a murmur.

“Huh?” I felt him smile against my thigh, clearly finding my delirious state funny.

“Barry, man, have you seen her?” Rafe’s voice drifted under the door. 

I froze at the sound of his voice, my eyes darting to JJ who just smirked from his spot between my legs. 

“She’s right here, man.” JJ whispered, straightening up to press a kiss on the crown of my head. I shook my head at him, my eyes wide with a silent plea, but JJ disregarded it. 

 “She’s a little busy at the moment.” 

I shook my head, pressing my palm against his mouth, his next words coming out muffled. He never knew when to shut up. The last thing I needed was Rafe finding us in his bathroom.

I kept my hand on JJ’s mouth until footsteps faded and we were alone once again. 

JJ nipped at the palm of my hands, his tongue slipping out. My face screwed up as I let out a squeal, “Ew, Jayj.” 

“Shouldn’t have tried to shut me up to protect your boyfriend’s feelings.” He said the words lightly, but I could hear the slight edge in his tone. 

Pushing him off my softly, I hopped off the counter with shaky legs. “Since when do you care about Rafe’s feelings?”

I winced as I tried to take a step, my knees nearly knocking together from the aftershock. JJ always left me a shaking disheveled mess afterwards, but I felt lighter, because he was looking at me the way he used to. 

And, I wanted that to last just a bit longer. 

“I don’t care about his feelings-“ He scoffed, before pausing at the teasing smile on my lips. “You’re fucking with me.”

“Too easy.” I let out a shriek of laughter as JJ's arms wrapped around my waist, lifting me up in the air.

That was how I found myself sweaty, pressed against Rafe’s sheets, struggling to breathe. The violent sound of skin slapping echoing in the room, my raspy moans intertwining with his hot pants. 

One of JJ’s hands gripped the back of my head, pinning me to the mattress, the other pushing down on my back, forming a deep arch, to pull his cock in deeper. 

I couldn’t register anything he was muttering as he bottomed out since of me, my mind go blank. My walls spasmed against him with each rut of his hip, sucking him back in every time he pulled back. 

I was soaked, my pussy dripping around him. The sopping wet noises spurring him on, his pace quickening with those deep purposeful strokes. 

I couldn’t focus on anything but him. The smell; the feel of him. The way his cock continued to brush against my cervix made me borderline delicious. 

“Fuck,” JJ shuddered, rolling his hips in and out of my pussy had me clamping around him once more, a tidal wave beginning to build up inside me. 

 I whimper left me, the coil in my stomach pulling tight as I searched for a release. The tip of his cock pressed into me repeatedly, forcing my legs to shake once more. 

My hands searched for something to hold onto as I tried to anchor myself from being drowned in pleasure. “J. J, I-I cant-I’m gonna-“

I felt his pace begin to pick him, his cock twitching inside me as he continued his movements, grinding his hips against the globes of my ass, until there was no space between us. 

It was like he was imprinting himself into my skin. Like he didn’t want me to forget him. 

As if I could ever forget JJ Maybank. 

My whines got louder, his words becoming more and more depraved. His large calloused hands ran all over my body like he was etching it to memory. 

Quick and quiet gasps bled from my parted lips, as he hammered into me from behind, his hands lacing with mine against the sheets. 

The coil in my stomach snapped, white flash blinding my vision, this orgasim more intense than the first. I could feel myself coating his hips and upper thighs, fluids dripping on the sheets. 

I could hear JJ’s voice whine, he began to babble nonsense under his breath, with each languid thrust. 

My heartbeat was in my ears as I pushed my hips back to match his thrusts, wanting him to finish despite all my sensitivity coming to head. His nails dug my hips, my cunt suffocating as he continued to grunt his cock into me. 

“Fuck, Kiara.” His grunt echoed in the room.

Kiara? 

I went numb. I couldn’t breathe-I couldn’t, I needed-

Bile coated my throat as whatever childish hope I had shriveled up in my chest. So I laid there, not knowing what to do, as JJ continued to pump in and out of me, but the soft intimacy we shared before dissipated. 

Why did no one ever pick me? Why didn’t anyone want me? 

I let my body go limp even though everything in me wanted to shove him off, but I just couldn’t get myself to move.

That was all it took for JJ to realize the slip of his tongue. JJ froze behind me as I shoved my face into my arms and choked on a gut wrenching sob. 

“Fuck, I-hold on,” JJ’s panick was audible as he slowly pulled out of me. I cupped my mouth to try and muffle the scream I wanted to let out. 

His blue eyes widened in horror at his mistake but it was too late. The words were already burned into my mind, replaying on a torturous loop.

JJ’s hand reached out for me, but I shrank back, scrambling to the headboard, desperate to put distance between us. 

I curled into myself, pressing my back hard against the headboard, willing for myself to disappear. 

“What did you just call me?” My chin wobbled. I tried to remind myself to breathe but with each inhale, my lungs were saturated with pain. 

“I-That was an accident.” He stuttered, raking his hands through his hair roughly.

“Get out.” 

“It just slipped out, I didn’t mean it.” 

“Get the hell out, JJ.” I yelled, and pointed at the door with a shaky finger. 

Like I said, his words never dented me, no they completely destroyed me. They cut me like a freshly honed razor blade.

And I was going to die of blood loss if I didn’t get him to leave this room. He had no problem leaving me then, why was he fighting it now?

Was he thinking about her the whole time he was inside me? 

Thought after thought haunted me. Was he comparing our bodies? Was he comparing the sex? 

Mortification had my stomach churning as I debated what to do next. My body was wound tight, on the verge of hyperventilating. 

Did he love her? Did he love her like he used to love me? Did he fuck her the way he fucked me?

I hated him. Before him, none of these thoughts would have crossed my mind. I may have been alone but at least I liked who I was. I never would have questioned myself the way I am now. But after him, the only thing I hated more than him was myself.

“Was Kiara not available,” I murmured, “so you came to the one person you knew would say yes?”

JJ didn’t find my joke funny. The air was tense, as if we were trapped in a steamed up bathroom, making each breath harder than the last.

“Kie and I aren’t together.”

“JJ, you know where the door is. Use it.” 

“I don’t want to leave.” He shook his head, his eyes flickering with something heavy. 

“You had no problem doing it before.”

“That was-“ JJ squeezed his eyes shut, his fists clenching and unclenching at his sides. “I shouldn’t have done that.”

He shuffled closer to my body, but still wasn't touching me. I nibbled on my bottom lip and wiped the remaining tears from my cheeks hastily. 

“I’m sorry.” He said, clearing his throat. “I am so so sorry.”

I lost my grip completely as those eyes perverted mine. His eyes were so blue, it was easy to get lost in them. 

Words couldn’t find their way out of my mouth. With wary eyes, I watched as he stood up and disappeared in the bathroom before appearing again with his shirt. 

JJ reached for me before pausing, his eyes asking a silent question. I nodded, forcing myself to loosen the grip I had on the sheets. 

I let him put the shirt on me, its protection better than the flimsy sheet. JJ dropped his head on my chest, his tan arms wrapped around my waist, curling himself into me. 

“I’m sorry.” 

I was sorry too. I waited for months for him to be back in my arms, but he ruined every independent thought I had. I couldn’t stop the overthinking. I couldn’t stop the pain.

I was hurting too, but I was the one comforting him. I was always the one comforting him. What about me?

I laid on the soft sheets and stared up at the ceiling. Our heavy breathing echoing in an otherwise silent room. His heavy arm tossed over naked torso, his fingers softly tracing the curve. The whisper of his breath caressing the nape of my neck where his face was buried. The familiar tickle of his golden strands brushing against my nose, his coconut shampoo wafting my senses.

The JJ induced haze began to clear up and the ugliness began to set in. 

A single tear escaped my eye, its trailing burning it’s way down the side of my face. I loved him. Even after he willingly abandoned me. After he humiliated me in front of everyone. After he called me her name.

I couldn’t cut him out. It didn’t matter what he did to me, the minute we’re within the same vicinity, my self preservation disappeared. Then I was left, treading water in the middle of a storm, with nothing but a life jacket. 

I had no one to blame but myself in this situation. I knew how he spoke to me, how easily he left me, how embarrassed he was of me. But he just smiled and it was like everything melted away. 

I so badly wanted to feel again, but not like this.

So all I can do is lay here. In this bed. With a boy who made me hate the kind person that I was. 

I made my bed. I didn’t realize this was how I’d feel when I lied in it. I turned into someone I hated. And suddenly I was bone-tired, exhaustion suffocating my lungs. I had no idea who I was and I was tired of being someone I wasn’t. 

“Where are my clothes?” I said. God, I needed to leave this room before Rafe found me. 

“I wasn’t really focused on that part, babe.” JJ mumbled, burrowing himself deeper into my side. 

My stomach lurched. I thought I’d feel different. I thought that maybe this would fix everything. That in some deluded way, we would get back together and everything else didn’t matter. Like he didn’t leave me standing at the party after stomping on my chest.

“I need them.” I mumbled. I choked down the need to throw up. The feel of our sweat coating my body and his soft breaths against my skin had me almost hyperventilating. 

Home, he used to be home. But, I’ve never felt like more of a stranger than in his arms right now. This was no longer my home. 

Kook pussy. Daddy issues.

I fucked up. Fuck, I fucked up. 

This only made me feel worse. I was good enough to fuck, but not enough to stay. 

“What are you in such a hurry for?” His fingers paused their persistent movement. 

“I have to get back-“

“To who?” JJ snapped. 

I moved to sit up, dragging the sheet with me as I avoided his gaze. “You know who.”

He didn’t need to know that Rafe and I basically ended. I just wanted him to hurt in the same way I did.

He let out a scoff. “You can’t be serious?” 

“Dead serious.” 

“This isn’t like you-“

“You left. You don’t know who I am anymore.” 

“Clearly,” he chuckled under his breath, “But suddenly Rafe does?”

I shrugged. “He’s my friend.”

“I don’t give a fuck who he is-“

I tuned him out. I was too busy trying to get his actual voice out of my head. 

Kiara. Not me. Kiara. Not me. 

It had taken every bit of strength to not chase after him that day. To not call and text, begging for him to give me the time of day. And I know, I know I should be stronger. I know I should have said good riddance and moved on, but love was never simple. 

When I saw him tonight, I thought that maybe it was fate. So all the waiting, all the practice of self control paid off because he came back. But, was this what was waiting for me?

“You slept with me,” I said, “ but you’re thinking about her?”

I didn’t want to know the answer, but I had to ask it. It was just one of a million questions I had since the day he walked away. Was there something I could have done differently?

I was wracking my brain to see where I had gone wrong, but maybe I just fell in love with the wrong person.

“From what I hear, you don’t care about anything these days. Why would you care about this?” I couldn’t detect any emotion in his words, just cold hard facts. 

I really was out here exceeding everyone’s expectations of me. 

But, he had to know that when it came to him, I always cared too much. That’s why his words caused another jagged piece of my heart to puncture my chest.

“Why would I care?” I whispered, shaking my head at him. “Are you listening to yourself?” 

Had I deluded myself so much into thinking we experienced the same love in our relationship? How could he even question that. Everything I did was always for him.

“I care about you, that never changed.”

Something pained flickered through his gaze. “Care about me? Yet your fucking Rafe Cameron.” 

“You’re mad about that?” I choked on a humorless laugh,”Let me jog your memory real quick since apparently you’ve got amnesia, you were the one that told me to be with him.” 

“Well, I didn’t think you’d actually do that to me.”

I threw my arms up in the air, exasperated,”Then why say it at all? Wait, I forgot who I’m talking to. You’re the king of saying shit you don’t mean.” 

“Saying shit and actually doing it are two different things.”

“Well, you did do it Jayj.” My lungs hitched. 

His jaw tightened, tension seeping out of him in waves. 

“You left. You did the one thing you promised you’d never do. You didn’t even look back as you did it.” I shouted, tears blurring my vision as my body continued to shake from adrenaline. “All because what? Rafe hurt your feelings? Because I have more money than you?”

I wanted to understand him. I thought I did once, but the more I thought about our breakup the more I saw it had nothing to do with me. And everything to do with him.

“Do me a favor and grow up. This is the real world. You’d swap places with any one of us in a second if you could.” 

JJ narrowed his eyes. “I don’t want any part of your world. I thought I made that clear.”

“I’m aware. But I was there, remember? For every bonfire, for every boat ride with you and your friends. What was it you guys said again?” It rushed out of me, “to going full kook?”

He watched me stoically, his fingers tugging at his bracelets. 

“I guess you’re the only one that can have the money in the relationship?” I raised my eyebrow at him, waiting for him to respond. 

The beautiful blonde boy that seeped into my bloodstream and made me love him. But, ruined us in the process. He destroyed everything he touched. 

He pressed the heel of his palms against his eyes, 

“What happened?”

“You want to know what happened? You fucking happened.”

That familiar anger flared in his eyes and I knew exactly what he was going to do. What he always did to me, but this time, I wasn’t going to let him erase me. Not again.

“Let’s talk about who you turned into?” JJ spat vehemently. “What? Rafe buys you a nice purse and you’re suddenly snorting lines of coke?” 

“It was actually a couple purses.” 

JJ shot daggers at me. “So what? You’re proud of that?” No, I only wanted someone to care about me if I died.

“I’m only doing what you told me, I’m sorry you don’t like the person you turned me into.”

I didn’t like her much either. But, JJ never gave me more and I realized he would never give me more, no matter how much I pushed. No matter how hard I tried to get him to see that I was the one he should be with. 

It pained me that it took all of this for me to realize that there were parts of JJ he would never let anyone have. 

“Why are you still here?” I said quietly. “I’m not going to let you sit here and make me feel like shit for how I chose to cope with what you broke.” 

I was done giving the men in my life power over me. I needed to stand on my own two feet even if that meant I had to do it alone. 

“Feel like shit?” JJ nodded his head with mock outrage,” Princess, you just let me fuck you in your boyfriend’s bed. I think you feel like shit already.” 

He was right, but I still recoiled back at the venom he spat at me. I sagged with exhaustion. He was just lashing out the way he always did.

“I didn’t know, JJ.” My voice cracked. “I-I didn’t know. I just did what I thought I was supposed to do.”

JJ’s head snapped up at the waver in my voice. His ocean eyes showed a clear battle, one I knew he’d lose. “S-Sometimes it just felt like I wasn’t good enough.”

His confession broke me. I knew the thoughts that ravaged his brain only because those same thoughts now drown in mine.  

My fingers twisted the hem of the shirt that my body was swimming in, a nervous tic I never got rid of. “But I never said that to you, you listened to everyone but me. You were more than enough.”

A tortured look passed his face, like the obvious miscommunication had disrupted everything. “I thought I was being paraded around to prove a point.”

I roughly wiped the tears that kept falling, “It’s okay to not want to struggle for everything in your life, JJ. You were exhausted and I just wanted to help you.”

“I didn’t know. I-just didn’t know.” I continued to repeat.  And I didn't. I had no experience with love. I wanted him to have the world since he was born with less than most people I knew, yet he deserved so much more.

“You let your friends help you, I don’t understand how I was any different.”

His blonde hair was sticking up in multiple directions, a clear sign of his obvious distress. "Because they’re my family."

Irremediable sorrow burrowed in my chest. "But, I was your family too."

I felt layers of grief his me in waves, quick and hard, one after the other as I came to terms with the fact that JJ never considered me any part of his family.

"You were the only family I ever had. I thought I was your family.” I sniffled, my ribs began to ache from the constant crying. 

A loud crack had me jump back as Rafe bursted into the room, chest heaving from exertion. He paused, his eyes locking in on the messed up sheets before dragging over to me and scanning my disheveled appearance. 

I thought we hit a milestone. JJ finally started talking and letting me know exactly what was going on in that brain of his. And maybe, that would be enough for me, for now. This all happened because JJ didn’t know how to communicate and I knew that wasn’t his fault, but at one point he needed to grow up. 

I was willing to hold his hand while he did it. But I watched as JJ’s eyes clocked the necklace Rafe wore with my initials. His gaze narrowed at the purse in his hand and my car keys in the other. 

The jealousy was evident in the way he rolled his shoulders back, his face granite. “Cute necklace.”

Rafe smirked, tilting his head to the side. “Thanks. It looks even better swinging in her face.”

JJ’s cool demeanor dropped, his blue eyes darkened into a brewing storm. “Enjoy my seconds, bro.” He clapped Rafe on the chest. 

My heart popped in my chest at his words, another bandage would do little to fix the shards that once resembled a heart. And, I knew then, that JJ confirmed the conclusion I just came to myself. 

“JJ?”

“What?”

“You were right. I do deserve better than you.” 

Loving him cost me something much greater: myself. 

I couldn’t continue to hide myself in any man that told me pretty words. I was no longer my own person, just a mere extension of them. One that they treated poorly and only took out when they were bored. I was always willing to do what they would never do for me.

I was just a girl, in love with an extraordinary boy who couldn’t see past all the things he was not.

I walked over to where Rafe was, forcing myself to remember his cruel words also. It was the only way I could get myself to walk out of here. My eyes lingered on the necklace for a second before I pulled my keys from his grasp and grabbed my purse. 

I wore nothing but JJ’s shirt, but at the moment I couldn’t care less. I left my clothes in Rafe’s bathroom, deciding it was better to leave them then spend another second in either of their soul sucking presence. I could always buy another dress. 

I couldn’t buy another me. Not if I kept letting these boys break me. 

This time, I was the one that never looked back.

Side note: I WROTE THIS THREE TIMES so pls pls pls be nice to me. I tried to incorporate a lot of people's ideas. I know the OC is very wishy washy but she's so real for that.

TAG LIST: @maybankslover @theficshop @cantbecreative @plk-18

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[silent-stories]

𝐅𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐘

Pairing: Eddie x F!Reader

Summary: Wayne didn't trust you, until one night.

Warnings: angst, fluff, nightmares

Wayne Munson just wanted to protect his boy. And that's why he was so reluctant towards you.

It wasn't that he didn't like you, it was that he didn't trust you: after all the years Eddie had spent almost alone in school, you came in the picture. You, saying you cared about him, saying you were interested in the music he listened to and the books he read, saying you loved him.

It all seemed too perfect and Wayne just knew there was something wrong.

Not because he was a bad person, Wayne absolutely wasn't, but because he was afraid you were playing with Eddie's feelings. He was afraid that one day you'd laugh in his face and tell him there was no way a girl like you could ever love someone like him. An outcast. A cult-leader. A freak.

The worst part was that Eddie, on the other hand, was really in love with you. He could see it by the way he talked about you when you weren't around, by his loving gaze when you visited him at the trailer, by the smile that appeared on his lips whenever he mentioned you in a conversation.

Wayne was afraid Eddie would suffer when you left him.

Because he knew you would. It was just a matter of time.

After what had happened in the upside down, after Eddie had almost died (because yes, he knew the whole truth even if he had a hard time believing it at first) he often woke up due to nightmares.

Often he heard the bed creak as if Eddie was tossing and turning in pain, sometimes he heard him talking but never understood what exactly he was saying. He was probably calling your name, the name of girl he was in love with, poor naive boy.

Once, he opened the door to his room slightly, slowly and asked if everything was all right, watching the figure curled up on the bed, his legs drawn up to his chest in a defensive position.

Even in the dark he could clearly see that Eddie was shaking.

It was pretty obvious that no, he wasn't all right. He was far from it.

Eddie told him to go away, that he was fine. Wayne pressed for a while but Eddie didn't seem to want to talk to him. Finally he closed the door and went back to his room, hoping that giving him the space he wanted would help.

He wasn't sure if it had really helped him when he started hearing muffled sobs coming from his room.

He really didn't know what to do. Eddie should have talked to someone about it, vented in some way but he didn't seem to want to do it with him.

He didn't seem to want to talk about it even with you, his "girlfriend". Wayne had expected this too: You wouldn't be there for his boy when he needed it.

After that night, Eddie had locked the door to his room, so even if Wayne wanted to go inside to check, he couldn't.

One night though, Wayne woke up to a noise coming from the room next to his, from Eddie's room.

He sighed running a hand over his face, tired, knowing he was going to have another sleepless night and that Eddie would too.

Thar time though, he heard the door to Eddie's bedroom open and the sound of bare feet making their way down the hallway where the phone was hanging on the wall.

What the hell was he doing?

Wayne got out of bed and headed for the door to his room but, when he was about to open it, he heard Eddie's voice on the other side of the door and stopped.

He knew eavesdropping was wrong, but that didn't stop him.

"Hey, sweetheart."

Wayne realized Eddie called you. At two in the morning.

"Yeah, yeah I'm fine." Eddie whispered, almost as that was all the voice he could get out at the moment.

"Yeah, don't worry. I just... I think I just wanted to hear your voice. I'm sorry, I'm sure I woke you up. Yeah, I told you I'm fine." Eddie muttered, if his words were to sound convincing, he was failing miserably.

He sounded like a kid scared by a thunderstorm, in moments like that Wayne wished Eddie's mom was still there with him, some things really would've been easier.

“No, that's stupid, I shouldn't even have called, you probably just want to sleep and not worry about my dumb problems. It's just…I'm tired, Y/N. I'm so tired and the nightmares won't stop and I… I don't know what to do. Every time, every night I'm there again and there are the bats and the lightning and- and It's hard to sleep without you. I'm scared Y/N. I'm scared they'll never stop, that I'll never be okay." Eddie sniffed.

Was he crying?

"But it's okay. I mean, yeah, I- don't worry and-" he probably stopped to hear what you were saying.

Were you telling him to go fuck himself for calling in the middle of the night? Were you trying to console him? Wayne couldn't know but either way, he didn't trust you. He had never done that.

"No. You don't have to. No, Y/N, no please, really, I-" Eddie stammered before silence fell on the other side of the door.

You hung up the phone. You hung up the phone on Eddie's face when he needed someone to listen to him and when he trusted you enough to call you and talk about how he was feeling.

Wayne knew it would end like this. You never loved Eddie like you said you did, you didn't even care about him or you wouldn't have hung up the phone. Maybe it was a joke all along, "make the freak your boyfriend, make him fall in love and trust you and then leave him when he needs it most and break his heart."

He knew how mean teenagers could be, they always managed to hit where it hurt the most. And, of course that's what you did with Eddie, you played with his heart that had already been broken too many times for someone so young.

He heard Eddie pacing nervously down the short hallway a couple of times, and just as Wayne was about to walk out of the room despite having no idea what to say, he heard the trailer door open and close.

Eddie went out. And Wayne wasn't going to let him spend the night in the cold or whatever that boy was up to.

The older Munson finally came out of his room and made his way to the door Eddie had disappeared through.

He opened it slightly and looked out, finding himself faced with the most unexpected scene he had imagined.

There you were, your car parked in front of the trailer, the door still open, and you were striding towards Eddie.

The sky was dark and moonless, only a few stars were visible, a nearby street lamp allowed the man to see what was happening.

Wayne leaned against the door frame, watching the scene a few feet away from him.

As soon as you reached Eddie you wrapped your arms around his neck and pushed him towards you, he immediately wrapped his arms around your body in a hug Wayne wondered if it could actually break any bones.

Eddie held on to you as if his life depended on it, squeezing the fabric of your shirt with his hands and closed his eyes, letting out a sigh of relief as he hugged you, as if having you there in that moment solved all his problems, as if Eddie was okay again just because of your presence.

"I'm here. It's okay, I got you." You said holding him, your voice soft and sincere.

That was the moment Wayne realized he was completely wrong about you, all along.

"You didn't have to come." Eddie whispered, not letting you go.

"But I wanted to." You responded by stepping away from him slightly, cupping his face with your hands and running your thumbs on his cheeks.

"I swear, you are something else." Eddie said with a slight smile. "Thank you for coming, really."

And Wayne, seeing you looking at Eddie as if he was the most precious thing in the world, wondered what had been on his mind every time he doubted your sincerity, every time he thought you didn't really care about Eddie.

You went there in the middle of the night because you knew he needed it, and he didn't even ask you. That was all it took to know that you were a good person. That you were there for his boy.

"I love you." He murmured before bringing his lips to yours in a light but affectionate kiss. Wayne had to look down, feeling he was slipping into a too intimate a moment.

"I love you too." You responded leaning your forehead against his. "And I'm here for you. I'll always be here for you, you know that."

"Do you- think you can stay the night? I understand if you can't- if you don't want to- I mean-"

"Eddie, I've come to stay. I wouldn't leave even if you begged me, right now." You reassured him.

He nodded, leaving a kiss on top of your head. "I love you so much."

You smiled grabbing his hand with yours, intertwining your fingers ready to reenter the trailer.

Your eyes met Wayne's still in the doorway.

Eddie's hand squeezed yours tighter as you reached for him.

"She's spending the night here whether you like it or not." Eddie announced to his uncle.

Wayne looked between you and Eddie, then back to you as you started to talk.

"I'm sorry I showed up here in the middle of the night but I can't leave now, I-"

"I'm sorry I didn't trust you." He finally admitted.

A surprised expression came onto your face.

"I was wrong about you, I was wrong from the start." He said leading you into the trailer.

Eddie smiled at his uncle's words.

"It's okay, I understand where all your resilience came from. Really, don't worry about it." You answered with conviction.

Wayne patted your shoulder. "You are a good kid, thank you for being here."

You smiled again. "You don't have to thank me. None of you have to."

Eddie put his arm around your shoulders and pulled you closer to him, up against his Metallica shirt he used to sleep in.

"We're going to sleep, uncle Wayne." Eddie said before heading to his room, dragging you with him.

You turned one last time to Wayne before disappearing behind Eddie's bedroom door. "Good night."

The man's gaze softened even more. "Goodnight kids."

Eddie was in good hands now, he always had been even when Wayne didn't know it.

You were always there, even when Wayne didn't know it. You were family.

Tags: @jacklesdeanvessel @morning-sky7

[zyafics]

play fake | part five

series play fake — ( masterlist )

pairing rafe cameron x female reader

summary when rafe cameron needs to secure a gf in order for his father to see him as a stable man, he enlists the help of a bartender who wants nothing to do with him.

content 18+, eventual smut, angst, fake-dating, jealousy, people-pleasing and independent! female reader, ward cameron pinning rafe and sarah against each other, rafe being an asshole

zya's notes thank u for being patient with me! <3

𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃 ⋆.˚ ⋆.˚ ⋆.˚ ⋆.˚

You weren't a cuddler.

At least, not with Rafe. When you fell asleep on his bed last night, he scoffed at the sight. How tired you were. How you immediately fell off post-orgasm. He had other plans, to make you come more, but it was obvious it wasn't going to happen. Instead, he helped you get under the comforter, and when you did, you instinctively pulled to the edge of the mattress, like you knew to put as much distance between you and him.

Rafe thought it would change by morning. That you would find yourself in his arms and he would be able to tease you about it. You didn't. Your hands tucked under your head, you faced the wall, laid on your side, and you did everything possible to avoid contact with him.

For some reason, it pissed him off.

Like he was mad at your subconscious when you didn't do anything wrong. He thought—assumed—you would let him in. When he poured a bit of himself last night, letting himself be vulnerable with you, he thought it was a gateway for you to return the sentiment. But, somewhere, deep down, you still didn't trust him.

He was the one who got out of bed first.

He went to the ensuite and took a shower, washing away his sweat and subtle case of hangover. Surprisingly, it wasn't that bad. He doesn't know if it's because, halfway through the night, clarity dawned on him or because he was crossed with a different drug than his usual high. Either way, he was grateful.

Until the ringing started.

It happened once. It was your phone; the ringtone too obnoxious to be his. Then, it ended. And started again. This happened a couple more times until Rafe got annoyed and stepped out of the bathroom to check on who the fuck was calling you so early in the morning.

It was your job.

He softens for a moment. He forgot that you had shit to do, that the two of you were on opposite sides of the economic spectrum. He may have luxury and all the time in the world but you had work. You weren't kidding when you said you needed to pull doubles just to stay afloat.

He wanted to wake you up and give you the phone to handle it. But, something about your sleeping position makes him hesitate. You look so peaceful. Calm. Like you haven't had a good night's rest in a long time and he wasn't going to ruin that.

So, he did something he probably shouldn't.

He turned your phone off.

He went back to the bathroom to finish the rest of his routine and when he came out, you were starting to stir. Your hands were rubbing the sleepy haze out of your eyes and you were searching around the room to figure out where you were.

"You're up." He acknowledges, stepping out into his room. "Get ready. We're heading out."

"Go where?" You mumble drowsily, trying to remember your own name right now, much less try to get ready. "Wait, what time is it?"

Rafe doesn't say anything, glancing at the present that sits on his desk. He grabs it, throwing it onto the bed, which you manage to catch in the nick of time. "Here, before I forget." He declares, going to his closet to exchange his sweatpants for some outside attire.

You look inside the bag, more thoroughly this time. You counted a total of fourteen Plan B packs, the stems of the tulips were slightly-wilted from lack of water, and the envelope isn't a letter but rather a thick wad of something—like cash.

"I'm not taking this." You pull out the envelope and slide it across the bed. Rafe glances down at it, then back to you, a scowl forms on his face.

"You don't know what it is."

"It's money," you say, easily. "That wasn't part of the deal."

"So what?" He steps forward, closing in the distance as he stands before the bed, grabbing the envelope and holding it out to you again. "You need the money. Take it."

"No." You cross your arms, stubbornly.

God, this fucking early in the morning?

He clenches his teeth. "Why the fuck not?"

You take a beat before you answer. "You wouldn't get it."

"Try me."

He looks genuinely serious about knowing your answer. Not just another way to pick it apart and fight back, but to be willing. It makes you consider telling him the truth. Sighing, you explain. "It's just... it means that whenever you fuck up, you get to put some money in it and it fixes everything. I refuse to let you think that you can wave some cash in front of my face and everything will be forgiven."

There's more reasons why you don't accept the money, not for the exchange you're doing, but you rather not get into that right now. That explanation, in this context, was the most appropriate.

"That's not... I..." Rafe trails off, his mouth slightly slack from the confession. That's not what he meant to do, but there's some merit behind your words, nonetheless. It is easier to flash his wallet than apologizing for any misdemeanor he committed. It's something he does. It's something he learned from his father. "I'm not."

You chuckle. "Say that more convincingly and I might believe you."

Rafe swallows, watching the gentle smile light up your lips. He didn't realize how much he didn't appreciate it before. Not until you gave him the whole silent treatment and called him out.

"It's not," he starts again with a clear of his throat. "I do that. I'm not gonna lie about that. But, in this case... It wasn't just that. You needed the money. I took it out of your paycheck to buy Plan B. It cost nothing to me."

You don't answer him, glancing back at the bag. "You already bought me Plan Bs."

"Yeah, but that doesn't mean you can cover rent with fucking contraceptive pills."

Pulling your bottom lip between your teeth, you take his words with some consideration. You admit, this is a version of his apology, no matter how pretentious it may seem. With that, you accept the envelope out of his hand. "Thank you."

Rafe is pleased at that. That you finally didn't give him such a hard time to help you. That you just accepted it, even if it was done with some initial hesitation.

Pulling himself off the mattress, Rafe turns back to his closet, only for your voice to stop him.

"You know, it's a bit presumptuous of you to assume we'll be having sex this much."

He looks at you, seeing you tilt your head at him in a challenge. The bag lifted off your lap to demonstrate the amount he bought.

"It's so I'll ever have to hear you complain about spending money again."

You chuckle. There it is, the cover of assholery to make up for the vulnerability he exposed just moments ago. "If this is the rate we'll be going, you should've just bought me birth control."

"Fuck off, it's not going to be a regular thing."

You laugh. "I guess I'll just use these with my other boyfriends. Since we won't be needing them."

Rafe stills. He knows you're teasing him, to get a rise out of anything you can find yourself on. But something in his blood runs hot as those words escape your lips. At the idea of you with others. He turns back to the bed, lowering himself to your level before grabbing your cheeks in one palm.

It wasn't done roughly. That's the reason why your smirk is so fucking conceited right now. He wants to do something to make you take back your words.

But nothing came to mind. Not this morning. Not after last night.

Instead, he mutters, "you play too fucking much."

He releases you with a light shove, enough for you to fall back against the pillows. Rafe grabs the first thing out of his closet and walks back to the bathroom, and just when he's about to close the door, he hears your laughter erupt from behind.

—

After getting ready, by wearing whatever you could find in Sarah's closet—which Rafe made you use because she hasn't been home in over two months—you called to check in with Sailor. Your phone was off, for some odd reason, and when you called to make sure the place is running regardless of your absence, you agreed to go to whatever the fuck Rafe planned.

It was shopping.

You feel out of place the moment you arrive at the outlet downtown of Figure Eight. It's mainly for Kooks to come and shop, the boutiques and storefronts are out of your price-range for so many reasons. You thought it was a cruel joke for Rafe to give you some money, only to expect you to spend it in places like here.

"No," you shake your head for the umpteenth time, moving onto the next space. For the past twenty minutes, Rafe's been trying to get you to stop and try on clothes. You've been declining all of the options. You know you won't be able to afford them so there's no real point. You hope you reject enough of them that the both of you can leave.

"You have to pick a place at some point."

"I don't see why we have to shop here." You turn to him. "There's plenty of places near The Cut we can go to. It's cheaper."

His expression is sharp, as if the suggestion disgusted him to consider. “I'm not going to The Cut for their cheap-ass clothes."

"Well we're not going here either because there's no way in hell I can afford these clothes, Rafe," you retort, crossing your arms. He said he needed to get you some new clothes because your dress was too short, and since you don’t have many options in your closet, you agreed. You just didn’t expect to file for bankruptcy in order to afford it.

You're about to walk off again, furthering the sidewalk to preview the other shops you can't afford, when Rafe grabs your arm.

"You're not paying, alright?" He asserts. "Now, get into the shop before you piss me off."

You don't move. Not with that attitude.

"What's the magic word?"

"Fuck off."

You imitate a buzzer. "Wrong."

Rafe closes into you until he's right in front of your face. "If you are trying to get me to say please, think again, sweetheart, because there's no way in hell that I'm going to beg you for this."

You aren't intimidated. Glancing down at his hands, you ask, "how's your wrists, by the way?"

He rolls his eyes, forging annoyance, before pulling you to the nearest boutique. He knew it wasn't done without some willingness on your end, that your comment satisfied some power trip, and the two of you slipped through the glass doors of a fancy establishment.

An older woman welcomes you. She asks what you were looking for and Rafe answers before you get the chance to. When the saleswoman gathered the directive, she headed off to grab a couple of dresses from the store.

Rafe requested a private room. Since they had no such thing, this agitated him. However, since the store is mostly-empty right now and no one is using the fitting room lounge, Rafe’s mood slightly lightens. Sitting on the designated waiting couch, you head into one of the fitting rooms to try on the first item.

"What is this going to be for?" You ask, tugging on the strapless dress against your braless chest.

"There's a gala next week for Cameron Development. We're going."

You hum in response, acknowledging that this isn't a spontaneous trip done out of the kindness of his heart but because of your deal. The ploy you're fronting for Ward to see Rafe as reliable. You can't help but feel a small dose of disappointment.

Glancing at the mirror for a final check, you step out to find Rafe leaning against the long cream couch with his legs spread apart.

Rafe watches as you exit from the stall, reluctance pouring into each step you take. When you stop in front of him, you stretch your arms out to let him see the full details, before dropping them mere seconds later. "Good enough?" You ask.

"Turn around." He commands with a whirl of his ringed finger, making you roll your eyes but doing as he says. He studies the back. "Try another one."

Without another word, you head back to the room to pull off another dress from the rack. It became a routine for you: trying on one, doing a little spin for Rafe to see the completed look, waiting for his decision, before returning back to your stall to repeat.

None of the dresses have been a good fit, meaning you liked them, but Rafe found enjoyment in the process. This surprised him. He always hated going shopping for Wheezie or Sarah—especially the latter—but something about going with you, making you try clothes on for him, getting his opinions, stirs something primal in him.

He had to adjust his pants on the fourth dress you tried. That one revealed too much of your ass.

Despite your initial reluctance, you were starting to have fun. You never got the chance to be this girl—the one who spends their days dressing up, acting like a princess getting ready for her first ball—and it makes you excited. A little happy. But, you'll never admit it to Rafe.

However, your options are quickly dwindling. The saleswoman had to go to the front to gather some more dresses for you. As you pull the last one off the rack, you step out of the fitting room.

"Fuck." Rafe swears under his breath, watching you come out with a new piece. A long satin dress that clings to every curve of your body, showing off every impressive inch of your cleavage while leaving more to the imagination and a high slit that cuts up mid-thigh. It might be his favorite.

It was definitely yours.

"What do you think?" You prompt timidly, the lack of outright comment about your attire made you a bit antsy for his thoughts.

“I…” Rafe trails off, his eyes lifted to find yours. “What do you think?”

"Well," you spin, demonstrating with the little twirl that Rafe always makes you do. "I like it. I think it fits me."

"Then, let's get it."

You shake your head, laughing at the idea. "It's outrageously expensive. I can't afford it in this lifetime."

His expression shifts to an unreadable one. "I said I got it."

"And I don't think that's necessary. I can take care of myself." You say, which is true. You know Rafe has money, and you know he wouldn't feel a dent in his wallet if he bought it for you. However, the idea makes you uncomfortable. Not because he was spending money, but because you're letting someone else take care of you. Have power over something you spent your entire life controlling. It feels... wrong.

His jaw locks, his words sharper than before. "I took you here, that means I pay."

"No." You stand firm, shaking your head. "It's fine. I'll just try on something more affordable."

You go back to the dressing room without allowing Rafe to get another word in and he slumps back into his seat with mounting agitation. Rubbing his tense jaw, he can't seem to understand why you won't let him do things for you.

He's capable. He has money. All of this rationalization leads to one infuriating conclusion: why the fuck do you act like he has none of that?

It's simple.

You don't trust him.

"Rafe." You call out. It pulls him out of his spiraling thoughts and he turns to the closed door of your stall. "I can't get the zipper out. Can you help me?"

He was on his feet before you finished your sentence. Knocking, he hears the soft click of the lock as he pushes the door in, stepping inside the limited space. Standing in front of the large mirror, your back is turned to him.

Glancing over your shoulders, you offer him a sheepish look, "just pull it down. I think it's stuck."

He wordlessly steps forward before grabbing a handful of your hair and pushing it to the side. His large hands descend from your neckline to the tiny zipper tucked behind the fabric.

You watch him through the mirror, his expression is hard but his eyes are completely focused on the task at hand. A small smile rises to your lips.

When he lowers the zipper down to the end of the teeth, just at the midsection of your dress, he turns back to you. "Done."

"Thank you, boyfriend." You hum with a grateful grin, holding onto the front of your dress as it started to spill over from the lack of restraint. When you turn around, you’re surprised to find Rafe remaining. "I need some privacy to change—"

"Drop your arms."

The demand startles you. "For what?"

Rafe has the strongest urge to rip off your crossed arms himself, your questions delaying him of what he deserves, but he knows you. At least, he's getting to. Even if his mind is caught in a turmoil right now and he just wants to do something to prove to himself that you bare some semblance of trust in him, he can't force you. Not when he has an inch of restraint left in him.

He wants you to be willing.

Swallowing hard, he confesses. "Because I want to see you."

You can tell it took everything in him to say that. The corner of your lips finds your smile again. "You could've asked nicely."

"That is me asking nicely."

You chuckle, your arms still guarded over your chest. His eyes glance down. "Strip."

"Is this part of the arrangement?" You tilt your head, teasing out the moment a little longer. "An inspection for your girlfriend?"

He cups the underside of your jaw, almost in a chokehold. His eyes are hard on you, his patience wearing thin. "Stop playing with me, sweetheart."

You look up to him, doe-eyed and innocent. "Remove your hand, darling."

His jaw clenches at your own command, his grip around your throat sends a pleasurable sensation straight to your core. With great reluctance, he drops it.

"Who knew you'd do well with instructions?" You grin, taking a step back, closer to the mirror. Your heart is hammering with anticipation.

"If you don't remove them in five seconds, I'm ripping them off."

Excitement stirs in you. At the way he looks at you. The way he wants you. Rafe watches as you slowly drop your arms to your side, the flimsy satin glides off your body into a puddle by your ankles.

His breathing hitch in his throat as his hungry eyes take in your naked body, complete from head to toe, saved for a pair of panties hung around your hips that he's positive won't be there in the next few minutes.

There's a palpable silence. His eyes are intense but his words are obsolete. You needed something from him, some vocalization of his thoughts. Placing a hand on your hips, you ask, "did I pass?"

"You have a fucking nipple piercing."

You laugh at the astonishment in his tone, glancing down to your full tits and seeing the metal barbells lined through your nipples. "Is it not worthy enough of a Kook?" You ask with a tease, running the pad of your thumb over the sensitive bud, biting back a moan. "Am I going to get punished?"

He groans. Having enough, Rafe steps forward and captures your lips with his. His force pushes you against the cool mirror.

"I can't fucking stand you." He murmurs, his hand traveling down to cup one breast in his palm. "You were hiding these from me? The whole fucking time?"

The way he's handling you feels so good. "Didn't know I had to share everything with you."

"You do." Rafe asserts, his fingers pinching your sensitive tip and causing your whole body to arch. "God, they're sensitive, aren't they?"

You nod, needy. His hot mouth descends and his tongue swirls around the metal bar, eliciting a whimper from you. It's very sensitive, and you steady yourself against the mirror as Rafe lowers his other hand over your hips, pushing your panties down.

Rubbing your clit with one hand, teasing you with his mouth, you can't help but build towards a climax at the double sensation.

"Do you know what you do to me?" He whispers against your bare skin, his eyes flickering up to meet your heavy-lid gaze. "Parading around in dresses all day, trying them on for me?"

You feel yourself getting closer, but you can't help but tease him. "They weren't for you—"

His hand covers your mouth, the one slick with your arousal, and the removal of his touch leaves you empty and aching. You regret it instantly. "I don't want to hear you mouth me off again. You had your fun." He warns, his expression hard and resolute. "Now, here's what we're going to do. You're going to pick up that dress, fold it neatly on that chair, and I'm going to buy it."

A protest forms in your throat, but he catches it, deepening the pressure of his palm against your mouth. "Then I'm going to fuck you against this mirror. Remind you who you're with. Is that enough instructions for you, sweetheart?"

Desperate for a finish, you nod. Rafe watches as you pick up the dress and fold the fabric over the chair, before returning back to your previous spot.

"Turn around." He commands. You face the mirror, seeing your bareness in the reflection and the eagerness on your features. "Spread your legs."

You do, obeying him, and he chuckles darkly at the sight. "God, you're so fucking obedient now, aren't you?" He taunts, his eyes flicking to your face in the reflection as his hand lands a slap against your ass. "If I told you to touch yourself right now, you'd listen, wouldn't you?"

You would. The realization makes your face burn, your arms instinctively went to cover your chest. His expression hardens. "Not so fast, sweetheart," he grabs your wrist. "Do I need to tie them up for you too? Drop them."

Your pulse sputters, you lower your arms to your side, tucked. "I knew there was a good girl in there somewhere."

"Rafe." You whimper softly, the ache between your legs becoming unbearable. "Please fuck me."

He grins at your plea, removing his slacks and briefs in one swift motion. You watch his swollen cock spring free, the tip running beads of his precum. Your mouth waters and you resist the urge to squeeze your legs together.

"You want this dick, sweetheart?" He teases, approaching you from behind. "You want me to fill that sweet, tight cunt?"

"Yes," you beg, "yes, please."

"Put your hands on the mirror." He instructs, his hand grabbing a handful of your hair, tipping your head back to meet your gaze in the reflection. "Look at yourself when I fill you."

Lining his erection against your entrance, you watch as he slowly enters your pussy from behind. The image is so gratifying and sensual. "So tight for me," he groans, a hand grabbing your hips to steady him. "Feels so fucking good."

Your eyes roll back to the back of your head as Rafe pumps in you, finding a pace, the angle from behind allowing him to hit deeper spots. You hold onto the mirror tighter, trying to contain your moans and the pleasure coursing through you.

"Look at you," he mumbles against the shell of your ear, causing you to meet his gaze through the mirror. "Taking me so fucking well."

You nod desperately, moaning at his thrusts roughly slams against your walls. "You fill me up so good."

"Just for me, right, sweetheart?" He lands a sloppy kiss against the side of your neck, to which you respond with a mewl. "My fucking girl."

Nodding, your eyes flutter at the way he rocks inside of you, your walls clenching around his length.

"Rub your tits for me." Rafe demands roughly, his pace growing more fervent as he watches your body through the reflection. You do as he says, using a hand to pinch and pull your pierced nipples between your fingertips, the sensitivity of your buds adding to the quickly-rising climax. "Fuck, I love watching you do that."

The praise unburdens something deep inside of you and your goal becomes to make him feel satisfied. Steady yourself with one hand on the mirror, your handprint greasing the clean silver, you play with your nipples further, twisting and moaning in your own pleasure. "Like that?" You ask sweetly, watching as he nods heavily, his chest sheen with a thin layer of sweat.

"Fuck." His rhythm goes faster, the sound of his balls hitting the back of your ass echoing in the empty lounge and overwhelming pleasures causing your eyes to close shut.

Rafe catches that. Pulling you into him, with your arched back pressed against his chest, he roughly grabs your throat and forces you to open them, staring right at your reflection. "You're going to watch me fuck you, sweetheart," he pants into your ear, the sight before you driving flips into your stomach. "And you're going to fucking remember this."

Your hair is a complete mess, his hand wrapped around your throat as the other gripping your hips harshly to steady his sloppier thrusts, and you're being fucked in a public dressing room and loving each second of it.

Both of your moans and his grunts echoes. Your peak rising.

"Oh, fuck," you whimper, your thighs burning from the intensity of Rafe's pumps and your position. "I think I’m going to come—"

Someone calls your name.

Rafe stills.

"Are you in there?" The old saleswoman asks, her voice soft and delicate. You know she would die of a heart attack if she looked inside this room. "I brought more dresses for you. Where did your boyfriend go?"

"I—" Rafe begins to slowly rock against your body, his smile devilish in the reflection. "I–I'm here." You choke.

"Where did your boyfriend go? Did he leave you alone?"

No, you answer in your head, but your words are muddled as Rafe quickens his pace. Not enough where you can hear the sound of your pussy squelching, but enough for you to feel the returning buzz of your orgasm.

"Answer the nice lady, sweetheart," Rafe mumbles into your ear with a smile, pushing your hair to the side, as you send him a glare. Which quickly turns into a look of ecstasy as he hits your g-spot. You slap a hand over your mouth. "Don't be rude."

You had many words for Rafe, but none of them were coming out. You could only do so much. "He's–he's fine," you declare shakily, "I think he went to—" you let out a small whimper. Rafe's hand is now rubbing your clit in unison to his penetration.

You want to kill him.

You want to come so badly.

"He went where?" She prompts sweetly.

"The bathroom!" You shout with a half-moan, Rafe chuckling as he lays kisses on your backside, against your shoulder blades, increasing his thrusts. Your walls twitching around his cock.

"We don't have a bathroom."

Rafe tsk against your burning skin, shaking his head in forged disappointment. "Bad little liar."

"I'm going to kill you," you croak. Your climax builds so fast, you're trying hard to hold it off as long as possible.

"How are you going to come, then?" He taunts through the reflection, watching the way your body rocks with each drive. Your legs are weakening. "Do you want me to stop?"

You shake your head desperately, almost to tears, gripping the mirror edge for the life of you. "Please, don't."

"Then answer her."

"Hello?" The woman calls out, her voice pitched with a slight annoyance from your lack of response. "Do you want to try on the dresses? Should I bring them to you—"

"You can just le–leave it out there!" You moan with abandon. There was no way to avoid it.

"Are you sure—"

"Go away, please!" You plead, Rafe landing a hard thrust against you and causing your knees to finally buckle. He catches your waist with one strong arm, holding you upright.

The old woman huffs at your brusqueness, her little footsteps padding across the floor and exits from the lounge. With that signal, Rafe slams into you, with harsh desperate beats, to make up for the lost time. You come within a matter of seconds.

Worn out, he holds you up for a few more pumps before he spills into you. His hot cum filling your cunt. You're catching your breath, your face is completely flushed, and Rafe holds you tightly as the both of you come down from your high.

With enough strength, you pull yourself up and lean against the mirror for support.

"That was rude of you," Rafe declares with a tease, going to grab his discarded clothes.

"I hate you." You pant, your legs wobbling from your own weight. "I hate you so much."

He chuckles, redressing himself. Watching him as he collects himself, his eyes glance over to the chair before finding your exhausted face. "Now, are you going to let me buy that dress or are we going to have to do this again?"

—

Rafe ends up buying the dress. You were no energy to argue, and when he pulls you to the register to purchase the expensive satin, the old saleswoman gives you a withering glare—either at your rude outburst or the product of your image being a clear indication of you being throughly-fucked in the dressing room—that you quickly exit the boutique.

It didn't stop at the clothes. Rafe also pulled you to a nearby jewelry store too. He got you a gold necklace; your argument was completely futile with one glance.

"The necklace was unnecessary." You complain, pulling out the gift-wrapped box in the passenger seat of his car. Rafe is driving you back to your house.

He glances at you from his peripheral vision. "You need to look the part."

"But did you have to buy the most expensive one?" You retort, glancing over to him. "There were cheaper options. There's even fake ones I saw at the end of the display."

His hand, resting on your thigh, squeezes the flesh. "You think I'll let my girl walk around with fake gold? Do you know what they'll say about me?"

"That you're financially responsible?"

He scoffs, pinching the inside of your legs. You giggle. "That I can't afford to give my girlfriend some nice things. I'm not fucking broke."

You roll your eyes, opening the box. Your fingers trace the gorgeous details of the necklace, landing on the pendant at the center. "R, huh?" You say with a tease, looking over to Rafe again.

He shrugs. "Had to let everyone know who you belong to."

You know this is a fake relationship, that this is nothing more than to keep his image clean, but you can't help but feel a buzz at the possessiveness of his words. It almost makes you feel like you’re his.

Rafe pulls up to your neighborhood and is about to pull up to your house, when you stop him. "Right here is fine," you announce, holding your hand over the clutch to make him park. He does, his brows furrowed at your abrupt reaction.

"I could drive up—"

"No, it's okay." You wave him off with a small smile, unbuckling your seat and gathering your things in the leg compartment. "The walk is good for me."

It isn't that far. It's just off the edge of your driveway, enough where it doesn't look like Rafe is coming into your house but close enough where he can see the front porch.

Grabbing your bags, you bid him a farewell. You close the door of the passenger side and rush up to your porch, Rafe waits until you make it into your house.

This is the second time you've done this. You never let him go further up your driveway. Don't let him meet you at the door. It was like you were hiding him—embarrassed of him.

His hand grips the steering wheel as he watches you ring your own doorbell, waiting a few moments before the door swings open.

And it was fucking Heyward and Maybank.

They set out to greet you, pulling you into a side hug while pointing at the bags in your hands, to which you shyly tuck behind your back to hide from them with little avail. Rafe tightens his grip against the wheel, his knuckles whitening, as he watches you step inside, closing the door—with them.

He should leave. He knows he should. That's what he promised himself he would do. But, knowing you’re in there, with two men, drives him to stay. He can't go up to your doorsteps, you wouldn't allow it, so he waited. And waited. And waited.

It was over an hour and neither Maybank or Heyward exited from your house. It drove Rafe furious. Deciding that was time, he turns off the engine and marches up to your porch, banging on the door.

You open it in a matter of seconds, afraid that you were getting raided by the cops. Your outfit had switched into a baggy tee with shorts—too fucking short, he decided—and your expression etched with surprise.

"Rafe? What–what are you doing here? I thought you left—"

"Where is he?" Rafe declares, glancing over your shoulders with tightened fists. Trying to gain control of himself before he snaps. "Where the fuck are they?"

"Who? JJ?"

"Is that it?"Rafe snaps, his anger rising in waves. "What the fuck is he doing here?"

"I...I was helping him...?" You answer hesitantly, watching his expression shift from rage to fury.

"Helping him with what? Fucking him?"

You blink back in surprise. Your words caught in your throat by his outrageous accusation that it renders you speechless. Rafe, catching it as hesitation, had enough. His last string of restraint snaps. Finally, he steps inside, forcing you in and slams the door close behind him.

He grabs you by the throat, his fingers gripping the sides, causing a pleasurable sensation to your core. "Maybe you're right," he declares lowly, his darkened gaze lowered to you. "You do need to be punished."

— part six here —

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[foone]

Your best guess is that you've been in this time loop for something north of 15 years. You've lived that day, April 9th, 1997, something like 6000 times. You think... The second most ironic thing about being in this time loop* is that you have ADHD, and time blindness has always been something you've suffered with.

The time loop hasn't helped. You'll really get into a book, and don't look up from it until it's yesterday. Or, earlier today? Or tomorrow, it's all the same day. You wake up in your bed at 8:27, having slept through your alarm, no matter what happens. You've had plenty of time to do all the classic time loop things: told everyone (they forget the next day), kissed everyone (a surprising number of people turn out to be up for itl), tried to run (you made it all the way to Memphis one day, but it didn't make any difference), tried to make everything perfect and right (harder than you'd think, and there's nothing obvious that needs fixing), and gotten yourself exploded and shot and run over. You even made it into orbit once, NASA still swearing at you on the radio the whole way up. You've robbed all the local banks, kidnapped the mayor, and stolen half the stuff in the town, just to see what people have. Why not? It's hard to have a sense of morality when there are no repercussions to any actions, at least none that last more than 24 hours.

You convinced a scientist to shoot neutrinos at you once, thanks to something you'd read in a book on time. Didn't seem to make any difference, though you could swear the next day felt different, in some hard to define way.

You've gotten into a rhythm of starting each day and just walking out your front door, to visit a different place in the city, and knock on their door. If they're home, you ask questions, then use the answers next time to get further. If not, you let yourself in and see what their house looks like from the inside.

Even their shocking crimes no longer can shock you. Mr. Stevens is a burgler, Jenny J. is halfway through murdering her husband, Alex over on 5th street has a basement full of photos they shouldn't have, and more neighbors than you'd think are cooking meth or growing cannabis in their little backyard sheds or closets.

You can go to the police, you can confront them, you can explose them, or you can get a weapon and go all vigilante on them... It doesn't matter in the long run (and for you, the long run is very short indeed). They'll be fine the next morning, back at it again like nothing happened.

You wake up that same Wednesday morning, put on some clothes, and walk out the door. You got into a gimmick of crossing the road with your eyes closed: you know where the cars are, and if you keep the same pace, they definitely won't hit you. Besides, if you do, you wake up back in your bed. Big woop.

But you don't make it to the road this time. You trip, falling on the hard concrete of the sidewalk. What the hell? Your arms ache from catching yourself, and you have to suppress the time-looper instinct of "I hurt. Restart the loop!",at least until you figure out what happened.

You look back and there's a sneaker sitting on the sidewalk. A perfectly normal shoe, just a little skuffed up. A bit down the sidewalk, there's another, the other foot presumably.

You have a moment of equal parts panic and elation. You're out of the loop? You're out of the loop! This might be Thursday.

You gather yourself from the sidewalk and run back up the path to your door. You open the newspaper... April 9th. This is still the same day. You look back at the road, seeing the patterns of crossing cars you've seen thousands of times before. You listen, and your neighborhood sounds right. You can hear Timothy down the road yelling about baseball, so it's not 9:14 yet.

This isn't a new day. This is the day. This is your day. So why is something different? What, a partial time loop? And almost time loop? Most things are the same, but not all? It makes no sense.

You hear yelling down the road. You jog towards it, as an out of place sound just doesn't happen in your day. Around the corner there's a police officer shouting at a woman who is rapidly disrobing and flinging her discarded clothes at the officer, who is shouting at her and his radio. So far, she seems to be winning, but she's about out of linen ammunition.

You realize you don't recognize her. She's not one of the people you know, and you know everyone. She's someone new, the very anthesis of what a time loop is about. That, combined with recognizing that charicatistic disdain for consequences makes you gasp. My God... She's another time looper. She's done this day before, and it's just repeated, and now she's doing everything to see what happens. You're not alone in this crowded city anymore! You run towards her, eager to introduce yourself.

* Themost ironic thing about being in this time loop is that every copy of Groundhog Day at your local Blockbuster is checked out.

[rosemaryfollows]

Alastor, Husk, and Angel with an S/O who can’t get out of bed/do certain basic functions because of depression/PTSD?

𝒞𝑜𝓂𝑒 𝑜𝓃, 𝒹𝒶𝓇𝓁𝒾𝓃𝑔.

|| synopsis : They love you so much you silly ||

|| word count : 856 ||

[ CW: fluff :P, cursing obvi, thank you for the req anon i luv u <333 ]

[ NOT!!! PROOFREAD !!!]

Ａｌａｓｔｏｒ

✯ As of late, Alastor had been noticing the lack of your presence more throughout his days. ✯ He wasn't one to constantly check on you, but he had begun to show signs of worry. ✯ He had asked Charlie to check on you for him, but she just knocked and when she didn't hear and answer, decided not to bother you because she was polite. ✯ However, after almost two weeks with no signs of you, he let himself into your room.

"My dearest fawn! However are you doing this ever so lovely morning?" His voice was far too loud and far too energetic for you, causing a grumble to come from under your covers. He went over to a nearby window and opened the curtains with that ever charming grin of his. "Come now my dear! Surely you must be getting tired of doing absolutely nothing!" He chirps, his voice still covered by that layer of static as he stood by your bed now. "Not now, Alastor.." You'd grumble, not even bothering to turn over and look at him. When you heard nothing but silence, you figured he'd left and tried to resume your activities of nothing at all. It shouldn't have been hard, but your covers suddenly being pulled off of you, and you being pulled up to your feet. "Oh dear! You look, absolutely terrible! Lets fix you up!" Alastor would say, almost declaring it to the entirety of hell. With a snap of his fingers he would change your clothes, fix your hair and make you smell.. much much better. "See? Isn't that much better?" He would hum and pat your head almost condescendingly.

✯ Needless to say, he wouldn't be the best at comforting or caring, but he would at least make you look better before returning to the public eye with him.

Ｈｕｓｋｅｒ

✯ It would only take a day for him to notice your absence, though he could only check on you after his shift for the hotel.

✯ He would worry all day about you, and it was obvious in his work, spilling over shot glasses and sloppily cleaning his glasses.

✯ He already knew about your past struggles with your self upkeep, seeing as he did, practically the same thing.

✯ He would show up to your home, knocking on your door and waiting a few seconds. After he got no answer he'd make his way inside.

He'd call your name once or twice, the bags in his hands rustling a bit as he began to search for you. A slight pang started in his heart as he began to fear for the worst. He eventually got to your bedroom, knocking slightly before entering. "Doll-face? You in here?" He said, his voice low. His eyes landed on the shape of your body under the covers, his worries soften. "Darlin', you doing alright?" He'd ask, setting the bags down by your door and making his way to your bed, sitting on the edge. You could only give a mumble of an answer, but he knew well enough to tell how you were feeling. He would hoist you up and hold you against his chest, not minding the state you were in. His paw ran through your hair, giving a deep sigh. "I'm here, y'know. You aren't alone in this."

✯ He'd get in in full, wanting to be there for you as much as he possibly could. He didn't want to see anything bad happen to you.

Ａｎｇｅｌ Ｄｕｓｔ

✯ Angel would take no time to notice your disappearance. He knew that just by associating with him, you were at risk of getting hurt by Val.

✯ When he'd go to, 'work', his performance would lack, due to his worrying if you were somewhere in the same building, going through what he was.

✯ He'd learn a lesson or two from Valentino for this, but he considered it nothing to the guilt in his heart if he had truly gotten you into the same rut he was in.

✯ However, when he'd visit your room, and actually find you there in your bed, he would rush to your side, thinking you had either overdosed or been hurt all this time.

✯ When he found you just lying in bed, not really paying attention to the world around you, but still breathing, he would be so relieved.

"Oh my fuck, babes, you scared the tits offa me!" He would gasp, putting his second hands on his hips, crossing the other two underneath his chest fluff. When you could only mumble a tired little, 'sorry', out, he dropped his arms down to his side and kneels on your floor, making sure you could see him. His ungloved set of hands came up and cupped your face, rubbing the soft skin of your cheek before he offered a smile. "Rough week, toots? Wanna tell me about it?"

✯ After the long, peaceful talk you two had, he lifted you up out of your bed and carried you off to the bathroom, vowing to get you back to squeaky clean!

[ haiiii!! hope this is what you asked for, and i hope you like it!!!! ]

|| note: ​🇮​​🇫​ ​🇾​​🇴​​🇺​ ​🇱​​🇮​​🇰​​🇪​ ​🇲​​🇾​ ​🇨​​🇴​​🇳​​🇹​​🇪​​🇳​​🇹​, ​🇧​​🇪​ ​🇸​​🇺​​🇷​​🇪​ ​🇹​​🇴​ ​🇱​​🇮​​🇰​​🇪​ ​🇦​​🇳​​🇩​ ​🇷​​🇪​​🇧​​🇱​​🇴​​🇬​!! <3 ||

[mimi-cee-genshin]

Friend-zoned? - Alhaitham x f!reader

Summary: How many Akademiya guys does it take to figure out whether or not you've friend-zoned Alhaitham? After discussing how strong he is, Kaveh, Cyno and Tighnari analyze his relationship with you. Things get interesting when you join their table.

Other info: fluff and humor :D, female reader, my extension of the conversation in Alhaitham's character demo because I loved the guys' interactions there so much

Words: 2.7k

*****

"Essentially, more time on contemplation, less time on execution," Alhaitham tells them. "Simple, isn't it?"

"... Not really," Tighnari and Cyno reply.

"Ugh, I knew I shouldn't have brought this up with you," Kaveh complains.

"I thought my answer was quite engrossing," Alhaitham says. He raises his hand. "Boss, this is good wine. I'll have the same please."

Kaveh swirls his cup. "Well, he has at least one weakness," he comments.

"Do tell," Cyno says.

"He's had the same crush for years," Kaveh tells them. "The guy's completely smitten."

"You can't be serious," says Cyno.

"Why is that so surprising?" Alhaitham says. "It makes less sense that I wouldn't be attracted to her."

"See what I mean?" says Kaveh. "You should see how he is around her. He practically treats her like a queen."

"I have a hard time believing that," Cyno says, crossing his arms.

"Stop exaggerating," Alhaitham tells Kaveh. "I just treat her the way she should be treated."

Kaveh only laughs at his answer.

"I thought you didn't like social interaction," says Cyno. "Or had any friends for that matter."

"It's not tiring to be around her," he says. "She's different."

"Of course she is," says Kaveh.

"Well this is interesting," says Tighnari. "What is she like?"

"We've known each other since we were kids. She was mature for her age. She did things like helping me resolve issues I had with others to keep the peace, making sure other kids didn't bother me while I was reading… Also, comforting me whenever I got discouraged…"

"You? Discouraged?" Kaveh scoffs.

"Yes? I'm only human you know," Alhaitham simply replies. "Anyway, you get the picture."

"That seems reasonable," says Tighnari.

"So it's one-sided?" Cyno asks. "As far as I can tell, you're still single."

"No," says Alhaitham, crossing his arms. "It's not one-sided."

"You're kidding me, right?" Kaveh says. "Are we even talking about the same person?"

Tighnari raises a brow.

"Every time she introduces him to another woman, she's a little too obvious with sharing why they'd be good for Alhaitham," Kaveh explains, "as if she's trying to sell them off to him."

"Don't be so dramatic," Alhaitham says. "She's not selling anyone."

"If that's the case, then why are you sure she likes you?" asks Cyno.

"Well for one, she comes by often to check how I'm doing."

"Perhaps she simply thinks you're incompetent at your job," Kaveh chides.

"Two," he continues, ignoring him. "She's always willing to hear about the latest book I'm reading, no matter how boring others think of it."

"Hmm…" Tighnari mumbles. "I can understand that."

"And three…" Alhaitham puts down his cup. "Whenever she reaches out for my hand, like when she wants to comfort me, she stops short of actually holding it."

"She does?" asks Kaveh.

"Interesting. So it seems that while she does display some sort of affection for you," says Tighnari, "perhaps she just didn't want you to get the wrong idea."

"So you're doubting my conclusion?"

"I'm simply saying it's difficult to judge based on the evidence you've provided. We may need to observe the two of you for ourselves."

Alhaitham sighs. This isn't going anywhere.

"Does she have any reason to not want to date you?" Cyno asks. "I wouldn't be surprised if you were overly critical of her, commenting on her every action."

"I give her nothing but compliments. She knows I think very highly of her."

"Huh," Tighnari says. "That's quite unexpected."

"I've been telling you guys," Kaveh says, "but he's really something else around her."

"Is she… actually older than you by any chance?" asks Tighnari.

"She is."

"Hmm… Well this changes things. Perhaps, she still sees you as a kid and is simply just doting on you."

Kaveh turns to Alhaitham, eagerly waiting for his reply.

Alhaitham clears his throat. "She's less than a couple of years older than me. It's not a big deal."

"Just admit that you're friend-zoned," says Kaveh. "Who'd treat their love interest like a kid?"

"I'm not so sure…" Cyno says.

Both Kaveh and Tighnari raise a brow.

"I think that Alhaitham has a clearer picture and can judge more accurately than any of us. They've known each other for long enough."

"It's just his wishful thinking on his part," says Kaveh. "Who wouldn't want to read into their crush's actions?"

"I agree to an extent," says Tighnari, "but perhaps we're missing some crucial information here. We don't know how well Alhaitham can judge a person's actions when romantic feelings are involved."

"I'm thinking quite clearly, thanks," Alhaitham says.

"This is why you aren't getting anywhere," Kaveh scolds him. "You're assuming she has feelings for you when she doesn't. You still need to win her over."

"Then what do you suggest I do?" Alhaitham crosses his arms.

"Ha. As if I'd help you. She could do way better than you anyway."

Alhaitham groans. Why is he even part of this conversation?

"Well, have you ever told her how you felt?" asks Cyno.

"Of course," replies Alhaitham. "I'm pretty obvious about it."

"For someone as reserved as you, I highly doubt that," Cyno adds.

"I wrote her a letter, eloquently expressing my love for her."

"Pfft. What?" Kaveh snorts.

Tighnari stares in disbelief. "Oh. I get it. You did that when you were children."

"I'm referring to the one I gave her yesterday."

"Pfft."

"That's… pretty obvious," Tighnari adds.

"I bet it was more of an essay than a love letter," Kaveh says with a smirk.

"Well, in that case, she either doesn't like you," says Tighnari, "or there's something that prevents her from admitting her feelings."

"Perhaps she's intimidated by your position," suggests Cyno.

"It's unlike her to care about those things," Alhaitham says. "She even treats me like a kid at times."

"So you do admit she just thinks of you as a kid," Kaveh says.

Alhaitham doesn't answer.

"Honestly, this case is closed," Kaveh continues. "There's nothing more to it."

"Hmm... Have you tried to make her jealous?" asks Cyno.

"You're still not convinced?" Kaveh is surprised at him.

"Knowing the result of that would likely draw us closer to a conclusion," Tighnari adds.

"Why would I purposely try to hurt her?" asks Alhaitham.

They exchange glances. Alhaitham still had the ability to make them go speechless with his matter-of-fact tone.

"Well, he's definitely serious about her," says Cyno.

"I told you," Kaveh says. "Seems like she's the only person he'd open up to as well."

"Of course she is," Alhaitham replies.

"I wonder…" says Tighnari. "Has she ever shared her own struggles with you?"

"Why would that be a factor?"

"Well, that would display how comfortable she is around you."

"Hmm… Not bad…" Alhaitham seems to agree with his line of reasoning.

He goes quiet and uncomfortably so because the other three exchange awkward glances at each other in the meantime.

"Well?" Cyno breaks the silence.

"You may be right," Alhaitham tells Tighnari with a sigh. "But that certainly raises more questions."

"Can we just start playing Genius Invokation TCG?" asks Kaveh. "We just keep going in circles with this topic."

"So you guys did just drag me out to play cards," says Alhaitham.

"It would be interesting to meet her," says Tighnari. "It's gotten me curious."

"Same here," says Cyno.

Kaveh looks up at the tavern entrance. "Huh? She's actually here."

Alhaitham's eyes flicker open for a brief moment. "Nice try. I'm not falling for that."

"I didn't expect to see you here, Alhaitham," you say, ruffling his hair.

He freezes and the three of them take a closer look at his face.

"I never expected him to have that kind of expression," whispers Tighnari.

"Me neither," Cyno agrees.

Alhaitham clears his throat. "They simply invited me here for some cards," he tells you. "Nothing more."

"Can I join?" you ask.

Without question, Alhaitham gets up from his chair. He holds the back of his seat and slides it out, gesturing for you to take it.

Cyno and Tighnari widen their eyes.

"Is it just me or did that feel kind of odd?" says Tighnari.

"Coming from him? You're not wrong there," adds Cyno.

You hesitate for a moment before you accept his kindness and take his seat. He stands next to you, waiting for the other guys to start preparing the game.

The two onlookers feel slightly uncomfortable for some reason while Kaveh tells them another round of 'I-told-you-so's. There isn't anything out of the ordinary as you all take your turns playing each other. Cyno is intense as usual, not just with his tactics but also with how he approaches the battle like an interrogation. Tighnari was calm and collected even under pressure, and Kaveh spoke his mind with every move, regardless of whether it's his or his opponent's. But having you there with Alhaitham is… strange.

Nothing really happens of significance. The two of you treat each other well and with respect. Just having Alhaitham being a complete gentleman around you is unnerving for the rest of them. Curt responses and sarcastic remarks are absent. He's completely agreeable with you and his usual temper isn't there either. Everyone plays the game in peace.

"You should save that card for later," Alhaitham tells you. "He can't do anything for the rest of the round anyway."

"Hmm… I'm not quite sure if that's what I want to do yet," you respond.

"Alright," he says. "You should do what you think is best."

"This guy…" Kaveh turns to you. "How do you get him to be like that? If it were any of us, he would've scolded us with a lengthy explanation about how we'd lose if we didn't follow his exact instructions."

"What? She can think for herself."

"And none of us can't?"

"I'm already familiar with how the three of you play and where you go wrong. I want to see if she does anything differently."

"It seems that he really does only compliment you, huh?" Tighnari tells you.

"Why would I do otherwise?" Alhaitham states.

His straightforward remark stuns them once again.

"Okay, we get it," says Kaveh. "We all know about your huge crush on her."

"Seems like you can't say anything bad about her even if you try," Cyno comments.

"Of course I can."

"You can?" you ask.

The whole table looks at you funny. You fiddle with the cards in your hand, pretending you weren't shocked for a split second.

"Interesting," says Cyno.

Alhaitham crosses his arms. "What is it?"

"I'm keeping my observations to myself for now."

Alhaitham raises a brow, but lets it go for the meantime.

A few rounds go by and you help set up for the next. When Alhaitham picks up a die for you from the floor, your hand brushes against his and the die falls off the table once more.

"What's wrong?" Alhaitham asks as he picks up the die again. "You're not usually this clumsy."

"I don't think there's anything wrong with me," you say.

He takes a closer look at you and you avoid his eyes. "Alright," he says. "You still ready to play?"

"I'll need to head out soon," Tighnari says. "It's my turn to be on patrol for tonight."

"Hold on," Cyno says, placing his cards on the table. "One last round. I'll be your opponent this time," he tells you.

You finish setting up the game and test your skills against Cyno. He certainly doesn't make it easy for you. You fall behind pretty quickly, but at least he's not as intimidating as when he played with some of the others.

"So," Cyno says, "what do you think of Alhaitham?"

Your eyes widen at his sudden question.

"You're straight up asking her?" says Kaveh.

"Why not?"

"I guess he has a point," says Tighnari.

They turn their attention to you to see what you'd say.

"Well…" you say, "he's very intelligent and talented."

"No, not what everyone else says," says Cyno. "What you think."

"What do you think you're doing?" asks Alhaitham. "Are you interrogating her right now?"

"Just let her answer the question."

"Well…" you say, "he's nice? And sweet?"

Cyno raises a brow.

"He's cute?"

"Pfft." Kaveh holds in his laughter.

Cyno ignores him and presses the question.

"I don't know how to respond," you tell him. "We've known each other for so long I can't just sum it up in a sentence."

"Alright. I'll get straight to the point," says Cyno. "What do you think of Alhaitham's feelings for you?"

"I think he should get to know other people… and try dating someone else?"

"See?" says Kaveh.

"I've already told you I'm not interested in anyone else," Alhaitham says.

"No, you should listen to her answer," Cyno tells him. "She's not lying."

"What?" Alhaitham widens his eyes.

"I'm not done yet," says Cyno. "There's more." He turns to you. "How serious do you think Alhaitham is about you?"

"He's definitely sincere."

"I'm pretty sure that was obvious," says Tighnari.

"But you don't take his feelings seriously," Cyno tells you.

"It's not that. It's just…"

"You don't?" asks Alhaitham.

"Alright. It's your turn from here," Cyno tells him.

"But I thought I was clear," Alhaitham tells you.

"You were."

"Apparently not clear enough."

"Look. You used to follow me around like a duckling whenever you weren't reading a book," you tell him. "How was I supposed to take your crush on me seriously?"

"It's been more than a decade since then."

"I... Okay, fair enough," you concede. "But it would disappear once you learned I didn't live up to your expectations."

"What expectations?" Alhaitham raises his brow.

"I don't know. That I'm this perfect woman that you've been pining for more than half your life. You'd know I'm not so great if you'd actually try liking someone else."

"Is that what you've been telling yourself?"

"You never say anything bad about me."

"Why would I want to talk about your flaws? Especially when I've been trying to win you over," he says. "Besides, aren't they obvious to you?"

"What?" You're genuinely surprised. "Like what?"

"Like how stupid you're being right now."

You freeze.

"Besides, I've been around you long enough," Alhaitham continues. "There's plenty I don't like. Like the way you cut me off at times–"

"What?"

"–or your atrocious style–"

"Okay, that one hurt a bit–"

"–or how stupid do you have to be to keep asking Kaveh for money –"

"Alright. I get it."

"–or that time you–"

"Okay! I get it! You like me!"

Kaveh looks at you as if you've grown another head. "How did you come to that conclusion? Are we even listening to the same conversation?"

"I think she's finally realized that his feelings were deeper than she initially thought," says Tighnari. "Especially since she knows that Alhaitham is still objective with her and not blinded with infatuation."

"That's right," Cyno says. "She's been the exception to his behavior for a long time. It makes sense she would think his judgment would be clouded with the information she had."

You hide your face from them. It's embarrassing how they read you like a book once your guard was down.

"I didn't expect the solution to be so simple," Alhaitham says.

He slips his hand into yours and you let out a little squeak. "You've also been wanting to hold my hand for some time haven't you?"

"Ugh. You're all smug now because you know that I return your feelings."

"I also don't like how you rearranged my bookcase."

"You can stop now."

"I think it's time for us to go," says Cyno.

"But we haven't finished our match yet," you tell him.

"I'll just forfeit this one."

"I'm with you on that," says Kaveh. "Anything before they start being gross with each other."

"I guess this is a good time for me to head out as well," says Tighnari.

The two of you are suddenly left alone at the table with a bunch of dice in front of you.

"Well, that's one way to win a match," Alhaitham tells you. "I'd say it's pretty ingenious actually."

You simply groan. You know what's coming.

"Do you want me to help you win every time?"

"Please don't."

*****

I hope you liked it. :)

This is one of those fics I wish had inline commenting like on Wattpad. I would've loved to see how everyone reacted at certain parts in real time but unfortunately Tumblr doesn't have that.

Anyway, you can find links to my masterlist and taglist on my pinned post if you want to check out more of my writing.

[theminecraftbee]

Joel turns around. Martyn is standing there. His eyes are a burning red that gives Joel the heebie-jeebies. If anyone would know to be scared, it's Joel! He would! He'd recognize a mad dog if he saw one anywhere!

Anyway, all of that is to say that his high-pitched scream had been totally justified. "Oh my word Martyn what are you doing here?" he says, clutching his hand over his heart, several feet further back than he'd been thirty seconds ago.

Martyn snorts. "Is the sign not for me? Figured there was no one else it could be for."

"The what?"

"The sign."

Joel turns around. Outside his base, the other Mounders have hung a helpful banner: "SORRY EVERYONE YOU LOVE IS DEAD <3".

He'd told them it was kind of rude, hanging that up. Sort of made light of the whole thing, really. His wife and Mumbo and Jimmy had died, guys, don't be idiots about it. Bdubs had loudly told him that he was TRYING to be helpful, Joel, geez, why don't you appreciate his efforts? Pearl had shrugged and said they don't exactly make cards for this kind of thing. Joel's pretty sure they do, actually but...

Sorry everyone you love is dead. Hah.

"My wife is dead, Martyn," Joel says.

"Who, Lizzie or Jimmy?" Martyn says, weirdly dark. "Anyway, my husband's dead, so--"

"Your what?"

"Mumbo and I got married one time. Everyone forgets that for some reason."

Joel has to think about it a while. "Huh."

"Yeah. Anyway, you've still got the other Mounders, huh? Don't know what you're crying about. Thought the sign had to be for me. Thought I'd show up. Get cake. Kill some people. You know how it is."

"If there's a TNT minecart in my base, the first thing I do after I turn red is kill you," Joel says.

"That's not really how it works this time," Martyn says.

"Yeah, well, screw you," Joel says. "Also, they didn't make me any cake. I should ask them for that next. Hah. A cake."

"You know, maybe don't ask for that? Parties tend to go wrong in this game."

"And who's fault is that, huh?"

"Hey, don't look at me! Or, do. Since I'm going to kill everyone, on account of everyone I love being dead and all. Really convenient excuse for murder, that. I should use it more often, if it didn't involve the crippling grief," Martyn says.

"Oh, please. At least you tend to have people to love in the first place," Joel snaps.

"Oh, right, that is your curse, isn't it?" Martyn says. "Sorta broke it last time, but you do tend to get isolated and a bit crazy. Hey, I wonder if we're the ones who traded, actually what with the whole wolf thing."

Joel blinks. "What?"

"Oh, we're all cursed," Martyn says. "After all, They like it better that way. Hey, do you think Jimmy's curse transferred to Lizzie, got cancelled out by the fact Lizzie tends to die stupidly, or got broken? Personally, I'm thinking random fluke, when it comes to canary nonsense."

Joel stares at Martyn. His throat is dry. "What?"

Martyn stares back. "Hey, I'm the mad dog this time," Martyn says. "You probably shouldn't be the one growling."

"Well then, you should stop saying stupid shit," Joel says.

"Stupid? Please. It's obvious everyone is cursed. Nothing to be done about it but to play into the--"

"NO ONE IS BLUMIN' CURSED," Joel shouts, his vision suddenly red and blurry in a way it shouldn't be when he's still on yellow. "NO ONE IS BLUMIN' CURSED. THERE'S NO SUCH THING! YOU'RE JUST, JUST MAKIN' UP REASONS IT ISN'T ALL A TRAGEDY THAT EVERYONE I LOVE IS FUCKING DEAD, MAKING UP REASONS THAT IT--NO ONE IS CURSED! IT JUST HAPPENS! IT JUST HAPPENS! IT JUST FUCKING HAPPENS! AND WOULDN'T IT BE BLUMIN' NICE IF THERE WERE A HIGHER POWER BUT THERE ISN'T SO SHUT THE FUCK UP ABOUT CURSES!"

He's panting. Martyn is staring at him. He stares back, a snarl on his teeth, the echoes of wolves and of grief, grief, grief, grief playing at the back of his throat.

"Joel?" Martyn says, hesitant.

"My wife is fucking dead. My best friend is fucking dead. One of my new possible best friends is fucking dead. Sorry about your husband, I guess? Get out."

"Bold thing to say to the guy who can kill--"

"I SAID GET OUT!"

Martyn stares at Joel a moment longer, and Joel finds he's not scared of the madness in his eyes at all.

Martyn leaves.

Joel realizes he's crying. The tears turn into giant, ugly sobs. Sorry everyone you love is dead. Sorry everyone you love is dead. Sorry everyone you love is dead.

"I blumin' hate caring about people," he says to no one at all through choked breaths, and he kicks a rock at the banner for good measure. It pokes a little hole through it and bounces off the dick-shaped tower behind it.

"Someone really should have made both of us a blumin' cake, they should," he says next, and he sits down until Pearl runs over, having heard the shouting. His face is red and his vision is still swimming. She stares at him, gathers him in her arms, and cries with him, and for the life of him, he doesn't know if that's any better.

[webslingingslasher]

what if peter calls her annoying for doing soemthing so she geniunely stops

peter remembers the conversation vividly.

'do you mind if i play a game?'

'no.'

'are you sure? cause if you wanna do something now's the time to say it.'

'no, you can play.'

you told him he could play, and you didn't even sound the slightest upset. he must've read that wrong, because while he's trying to focus on killing and not dying, you're chatting up a storm.

peter figured after the third barely there half acknowledgement you'd figure it out, but no. not even when he cut you off to shout something to a teammate. it was the third missed shot and he just really wanted you to stop talking.

it's nonstop and about nothing important. shit about people he doesn't know, or people he has a faint recolection from. his team was about to pull through, but you had to call his name to make sure he was listening to some bullshit about whoever and whatever and he fucking died.

'jesus fucking ch- what?! you do this every fucking time, i asked if i could play, you said yes. i asked if you minded, you said no. yet, every time you sit here and try to have a fucking conversation with me.'

as if he didn't dig in far enough:

'you're fucking annoying.'

ouch. ouch, ouch, ouch.

'i'm sorry.'

ouch, 'you're fucking annoying.' ouch, ouch, ouch.

a heavy sigh, peter rubs his eyebrow. 'yeah, i'm sure you are.' you want to shink into nothing, he made you feel so small in three words.

'you're fucking annoying.' ouch, ouch, ouch.

'i am.' it's timid, peter sighs again, this time at himself. 'i know you are. i'm sorry, i shouldn't have yelled at you. i was doing good and got distracted, i'm sorry and it's just a game.'

peter was sorry he yelled, not sorry he called you fucking annoying. no, that part he meant. it was obvious. 'it's okay.' you feel robotic, but it was your fault he lost his game. you're the one that told him he could play.

peter looks at you, his face scrunched. 'it's okay? i raised my voice at you and it's okay?' you nod, 'yeah. i distracted you.'

sure, that's what he said, but it's not what he meant. 'hey, don't sweat it. if i was a better player that wouldn't have happened, if anything you might just make me better by talking my ear off.'

'you're fucking annoying.' it still stings. you plaster on a smile, it's missing from your eyes. 'yeah, maybe.' peter winks, he bought it. or he just doesn't want to deal with it, you're fucking annoying anyways.

'you can play another round, i won't bother you this time. i promise.' and you don’t. not a single word, you just endlessly scroll on your phone and let peter celebrate his team win.

a cluster of kisses. ‘i had total focus and i set a new record. be proud of me, please.’ you smile, it hurts to know that your silence made him win. that’s how fucking annoying you are.

‘super proud, handsome. feel free to keep playing.’

it doesn’t feel right to peter, normally you’d be begging for attention or coercing him into cuddles. instead, you’re shrugging him off.

‘are you-‘

‘yes. i’m sure.’ twitter and instagram are boring. but you don’t want to be fucking annoying.

peter gives another kiss. ‘you’re the best, trouble. don’t forget it.’

you’re the best… and you’re fucking annoying.

you won’t be anymore.

———

peter’s won every single match this week and it stopped feeling good. and as he’s aimlessly wondering, half hoping to be killed, he realizes he hasn’t heard you in a little bit.

‘hey, trouble. what’s up? talk to me.’ he misses the soft chatters and gentle pokes when he loses focus on you. he misses you bidding for his attention.

‘nothing.’ you glance up to the screen, ‘don’t get yourself killed.’ peter shrugs, he doesn’t care how this match ends. instead, he moves from his chair to the bed with you.

‘c’mon, talk to me. tell me about your day or um, what’s that girl? the one with choppy highlights?’ you flip a page in your book, ‘harmony.’

‘yeah, her. what’s new with harmony?’ he moves into your touch, you slowly nudge away. ‘nothing.’ a multitude of things, actually. harmony is someone who has the life only a writer could make up.

‘i find that hard to believe, you’re always talking about her.’

you’re bitter with your words, but how dare he make it seem like he cares. ‘i did, but not anymore since im fucking annoying.’

peter looks at you, you’re choosing to avoid eye contact even if he knows you’re re-reading the same paragraph over and over. ‘you’re not annoying. who told you that?’

oh, you stare at him. you burn the glare of a thousand suns into his eyes, a moment of rage when you picture his head exploding.

‘you did.’

peter throws his controller down, he’s shot instantly. there’s not even a peek at the screen. ‘i did?’ his mind is counting back, when and the most important, why would he say that?

‘you said and i quote, ‘you’re fucking annoying.’ so don’t sit here and pretend you want to hear my stories or whatever. you’re a fucking liar and you think i’m annoying.’

in the time it takes to blink, peter’s grabbing your book away and forcing you to look at him. ‘i didn’t mean it. you’re not annoying, not now, not ever.’

you push his hands away. ‘you do. you apologized for yelling at me but not for calling me annoying. you said it and you meant it.’

‘i’m a sore loser with a big mouth. i don’t think you’re annoying, i’ve never thought you were annoying, and i never will think you’re annoying.’

you don’t buy it. he sure seemed to enjoy your silence for the past week and you tell him that. ‘no i didn’t. you think because i don’t say something, i don’t know it’s happening. i knew you were more quiet and less touchy, but i figured you were really into your new book- not that i hurt your feelings.’

it’s nice to know your efforts weren’t for nothing, but you still feel a sting in your heart. ‘you said i always bother you, and that i do that every time you play.’

peter shakes his head, he’s doing everything in his power to make you toss this idea you think he has about you. ‘i worded it wrong, that’s on me.’

‘what i meant-‘ peter tugs on your knee, you can’t escape his eyes if you tried. ‘what i meant was that it feels like you want my attention most when i’m in the zone and super concentrated. i love that you want to talk to me or sit with me, i just want to win a game too, that’s all.’

you sniff, a threat of a cry if he tries something like this again. ‘so, you don’t hate me or find me fucking annoying?’ peter frowns, he hates that he caused a mental breakdown of sorts behind the scenes over something he didn’t even realize he said.

‘never ever. you’re my girl, trouble. i’m an idiot who doesn’t deserve your passive aggressiveness. next time i act like that, feel free to throw the controller at my head.’

it comes way too quick, you’ve been waiting for this. ‘deal.’

[audreyscribes]

Ω PJO DEMIGOD HEADCANONS:

🍇DIONYSUS; God of Wine making, fertility, theater, festivity, and insanity. 🎭

author's note: I had a sudden idea about writing some headcanons Camp Halfblood demigods being claimed and what it's like for each respective god and cabin, followed by a small blurb afterwards. Thank you for reading and please like and reblog! The order is not in order of the cabin numbers. [PJO DEMIGOD HEADCANONS MASTERLIST]

You get claimed in an untypical manner. You heard of demigods waiting for a sign of their godly parent claiming them, with a glowing symbol above their head. Instead, when you get introduced to the camp members, Mr. D appears carrying a can of diet coke and casually states “No need to put them in the Hermes’ cabin. They're one of mine's”

Cue the record scratch. This immediately brings a lot of confusion and gossip. Many eyes look between you and Mr. D who doesn't seem bothered at all. You saw Chiron sigh and place his hand to his face, giving your godly father a disappointed headshake. Then you hear Castor and Pollux yell that they have a new sibling that they didn't even know about?!

You get a lot of looks of sympathy and jealousy. You don't figure out why until a little bit later on. Chiron fills you in with a reassuring voice but also speaks with an exasperated tone to Dionysus 

Although you guys can't make wine or touch anything alcohol related, you did inherit Dioynsus' wine making skills. This includes also being good at making infused drinks or mixing drinks that range from mixing soda flavours together to making your tea blend. Even if the flavours shouldn't work together or whatever the drink type you're making, you just can. You are your own personal barista.

Putting this first and out of the way, you're both in a blessed and awkward situation where you are able to see and interact with your godly parent. Mr. D tries to treat you like every other demigod in Camp Halfblood, and that makes it awkward when you don't know if you should call him “Dad” or “Mr. D”, but at the same time, you know you have it better then others. 

It doesn't mean Mr. D doesn't keep an eye out. When you dedicate your offerings to the gods and look at him when you do it, you can just see Dionysus’ face soften and his eyes have a hint of affection. 

Don't ask how you or your other half-siblings came to be if Mr. D was sentenced to Camp Halfblood. You won't get an answer from but at least you know you're not alone and the twins are glad to have a baby sibling. Get ready for the youngest sibling treatment. 

Dionysus is the God of Theatre so you have a theatrical flare. Even if you're introverted, you're not exempt; this can be applied in how you do certain things or be rather convincing at times. If you're extroverted, well, you're automatically the Theatre kid. 

This turns out to be rather useful in events like Capture the Flag in a state of mania. When the heat of the battle starts to get to you, you feel your godly parent's power begin to rise in you and you can use that theaters flair to rouse your teammate's spirits up. You can also get a bit maniac and effect your teammates and enemies alike and become rather terrifying. 

You have a bit of a green thumb so you can find some solace with the Demeter kids. However, unlike the Demeter kids who can just make plants grow and flourish, your green thumb only really applies to plants you have an interest in like Dionysus with his grapes…or now strawberries. Regardless, you can keep a houseplant alive at least. 

Aside from a few very selected people within Camp, you're one of the few people who has seen Mr.D's true form. Not his godly form or the Mr. D you've seen, but the form he usually shows in front of mortals. Then it becomes very obvious how your other parent became so enamoured. You thank him silently for taking up his current form because you’re not going to be ready to hear about Mr. D being a DILF.

“Welcome to Cabin 12!” greeted Castor and Pollux as they opened the door to the cabin. You looked inside and saw how lived in the cabin was. It was clear the twins didn't expect to have another sibling and judging by the absolute shock that your shared father was supposed to be stuck in Camp, they really didn't expect him to have another mortal child.   

You also noticed on one of their nightstands there were stacks of Coke and Pepsi, each belonging to one of the beds. There were copious amounts of it, and you wonder if being a child of Dionysus was a prerequisite of having a drink as your go-to drink. Like wine fo Dionysus…though you heard he had to switch to Diet Coke due to his punishment. 

“Yeah, sorry for the whole…mess,” said Castor as he looked sheepish. “Pollux and I weren't expecting anyone else to be here, especially since it's been so long since we've first arrived. And you know, our dad, being, well-”

Pollux cleared his throat, “What Castor means, despite everything, we're thrilled to have a baby sibling. We've always been together so we're not that alone, but every now and again, we kind of get envious of the other cabins and having other siblings.”

You smiled when the door is knocked and a new bunk bed is being brought in, Castor and Pollux grinned at you. “Come on, let's get your stuff and space ready, and let's go see our dad.”

[babybluebex]

𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 | 𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: series masterlist | after you receive a series of anonymous love letters, eddie has a confession to make that might make or break your whole friendship. 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: eddie munson (stranger things, 2022) x fem!reader 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: smut (minors dni, fingering f!receiving, praise kink, innocence kink, corruption kink), a little possessiveness if you squint, cute fluffy eddie head over heels for you, everyone in this is 18+ and if you aren't, you shouldn't be reading it!𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: i wrote this in (mostly) one sitting because the idea came to me and i couldn’t let it go, and it's absurdly long so.... here’s some sweet eddie smut!

You opened your locker, and watched as it fell out, just like every day. Every day for the past month, someone had been sneaking notes through the vent of your locker door, and you had no idea who was doing it. You thought it would be easy to figure out, the messy, nearly-illegible, handwriting indicative of a boy, but not even asking the Hellfire Club for opinions helped bring an answer. All that had succeeded in was Dustin poking fun at you for getting anonymous love letters, and you had sighed with exhaustion and snatched the first note back. 

You picked up the newest note from next to your shoe, unfolding it to read the newest sentiment. The handwriting was a little messier than usual, maybe rushed or something, and it read the same as every other note: that you were beautiful and smart, that any man who calls himself your boyfriend is lucky, then goes on to ask “Do you still not know who I am? I thought it was obvious, princess. Oh well. Maybe one day you’ll figure it out, and then I can be yours.” Not a single note was signed with a name or anything identifiable, and it was driving you crazy trying to figure it out. 

Before you could properly read the new note, it was being pulled out of your hand, and you whipped your head around to see Eddie, smiling like a goofball and examining the note. “Damn,” he chuckled. “Whoever this is has got it bad for you.” 

“Eddie,” you whined. “Gimme that back, it’s private.”

“What is it?” Eddie asked, examining the note. “Wait… Is this that letter you showed us, like, forever ago?”

“No,” you told him. “It’s like… I’ve been getting them every day since then.”

“Every day?” Eddie repeated, pulling a confused face, a grimace with knitted eyebrows.. “I thought it was just the one?”

“C’mon, seriously, give it back,” you groaned, but Eddie used his height against you, lifting the note above his head and craning his head to read it.

“A month of this?” Eddie asked. “‘I think about you every day, imagining what it would be like to be your man’— does this kinda shit work on you?”

“Eddie, c’mon,” you said, and you grabbed at the note. Eddie was quicker than you, though, turning to defend himself and the love letter. 

“Who is it?” He asked. “Do you know?” 

You sighed, seeing no way out of this. Eddie had been at the helm of teasing when you had first brought the issue to the Hellfire Club, nothing really harmful but it still made your stomach curdle. He seemed more invested in the mystery than even you were, even if he didn’t remember it until now.

“I have no idea,” you admitted. “I’ve been trying to figure it out, but nobody recognizes the handwriting. Anyway, who would like me this much to write weird anonymous love letters?”

Eddie handed the crinkled note back to you, and you almost missed the way his face fell. “You think they’re weird?” he asked, and you shrugged as you folded the letter back up. 

“It’s certainly not normal,” you said. “Why can’t this guy just tell me that he likes me? He can drop this pining bullshit he’s doing.” 

“Maybe he’s scared to tell you,” Eddie offered. He leaned up against the locker next to you, his fluffy curls flattening against the metal, and he crossed his arms over his chest. “Maybe he’s so afraid you’ll say no that he can’t even bear to tell you in person.” 

“Well, I can’t say yes if I don’t know who he is,” you sighed. 

“That’s true,” Eddie offered. “But seriously, does that mushy shit work on you?” 

You floundered for an answer, not wanting to give Eddie the satisfaction of being right, but your hesitation was answer enough. 

“It does!” Eddie laughed. “Oh, that’s amazing, you’re a little romantic.”

“I mean, maybe!” you said with a heavy shrug. “It’s just nice to have someone be, like, head over heels for me, y’know? Knowing that I’m appreciated like this…” 

Eddie sighed heavily through his nose, and he said, “Give me that note, I’ll read it to you.”

“Fuck off,” you chuckled, rolling your eyes. 

“No, really,” Eddie said. His chocolatey eyes widened with earnestness, and he added, “If you want someone to appreciate you, I’ll do it.” 

“I already know you appreciate me,” you said. “You’re like my brother, Ed. Anyway, you don’t wanna appreciate me like this.”

“Why not?” Eddie asked, and he took the note from your hand once more. “Is it dirty? Is he sending you dirty letters?” 

“Not always,” you told him. “I haven’t properly read this one yet; someone took it from me before I could.” 

Eddie opened the note and cleared his throat, and he read it off to you. “‘Princess’,” he snickered. “Strong start. He calls you princess?” 

“Shut the fuck up,” you groaned and tried to snatch the note away, but Eddie held you at arm’s length, keeping you away. 

“‘Princess, I thought about you all day’,” Eddie read. “‘It doesn’t help that you look so cute today. You should wear that lipstick more often, it makes your eyes look nice. Sometimes I think about what kissing your perfect lips would be like, having your lipstick stain my mouth. It’s enough to drive a man crazy. Is that something you would like? Do you like to be kissed, princess? When we meet, that’s the very first thing I’ll do, is kiss you. I think about you everyday, imagining what it would be like to be your man.’” Eddie paused to smile at the line that he had picked out before, and he continued. “I’d like you to be my girl, in any way I can have you. I love you.’”

“It does not say that,” you huffed. “He did not tell me he loves me.” 

“Okay, you’re right, that’s not written,” Eddie admitted, and you rolled your eyes. “But it might as well be! This guy's in love with you! That’s some sappy shit, babe, he’s got it bad.”

Before you could retort, the bell sounded, and you groaned as you finally retrieved the note from Eddie’s hand. “I’ll see you this afternoon,” you told him, shoving the note in your pocket. “Forget you ever read that.”

“Forgotten,” Eddie said with a nod. “I’ll see you at Hellfire, princess.” 

“Don’t call me that!” you shouted after him as he left down the hallway, and you sighed and brushed your fingers against your pocket. The note was sweet, but the problem came with Eddie. Now that he had narrated the letter, you couldn’t help but imagine only his voice as you read it back. The image of Eddie slaving over writing the perfect love note stuck in your head, and you physically shook your head to get rid of the thought. 

It wasn’t Eddie. There was no way it could be. You knew what Eddie’s handwriting looked like and it wasn’t what was on the sheet of paper. Anyway, you knew Eddie well, and he wasn’t shy like that. If he liked you enough to send love letters, he would just tell you as much. Deep in your chest, you sorta hoped it was Eddie writing you the letters. Even if it wasn’t sincere and was a prank (which was uncharacteristic for Eddie, but not entirely out of the realm of possibility), the idea that Eddie even noticed your lipstick or had the inkling of a desire to kiss you made your stomach turn flips. It was about time to face the music: you liked him.

You closed your locker with a sigh, and you made your way to class, the letter burning a hole in your pocket. 

Hellfire was successful that afternoon. Not exactly successful for the campaign— by all accounts, half of your group dying from a single hit by Vecna and the last member standing failing to kill him was very unsuccessful— but you always liked hanging out with the guys from Hellfire and always considered it a win. As the only girl, it was sometimes difficult to only hang out with guys, but everyone, even the freshmen, treated you nicely. Dustin looked at you like a sister, and you frequently drove him home after meetings.

“Can we get food on the way home?” Dustin asked as he shoved his binder into his backpack, and you shrugged. 

“Why not?” you asked. “What’re you thinking?” 

“I’m not sure,” Dustin replied. “You can choose.”

“How kind,” you smiled. “How about—”

“Hey, princess,” Eddie began from his place on his Dungeon Master throne. You turned to him, and he beckoned you over with a swipe of his fingers: “I wanna talk to you.” 

You sighed and rolled your eyes, and you shouldered your backpack as you turned back to Dustin. “Go to the car,” you told him and tossed him your car keys. “Get the heat going, alright?” 

Dustin did as you told him, and you tilted your head curiously at Eddie. He had his sleeves rolled up, exposing the tattoos on his lower arms, his hair all frizzy but still looking nice, and he had his plump pink lips pursed. “What’s up?” you asked. 

“I was thinking about your little letter situation,” Eddie began. “The anonymous author and all.”

“Oh,” you mumbled. “Eddie, really, leave it alone, it’s truly not that big a deal.”

“Yeah, but if some creep is trying to put the moves on you, the least he can do is do it in person,” Eddie sighed. “You deserve better than just some creepy love letters shoved in your locker.” 

“Do I?” you laughed, and Eddie’s dark eyes flashed. 

“Of course you do,” Eddie said. “You’re the best girl at Hawkins.”

“Chrissy Cunningham might disagree,” you mumbled under your breath, and Eddie sighed as he rolled his eyes. 

“Well, I think you’re the best girl at Hawkins, and that’s what matters,” he said. “Listen to me: I really care about you, and I hate that these letters are making you so… Uncomfortable.”

“They’re not making me uncomfortable,” you said. “I like them. I’m just annoyed that I don’t know who it is.” 

Eddie slowly stood from his throne, and he moved towards you carefully, like he was afraid that he was going to startle you. “You are beautiful,” he told you. “And you’re funny. And that guy is right, you’re enough to drive a man crazy. And you have, princess, you’ve made me completely mad.” 

You huffed out a wary laugh. “Eddie, what the fuck?” you chuckled, but you were stunned silent when he reached forward and took your hand. 

Eddie took a deep breath, his chest heaving with it, and he said, “I wrote those letters. All of them. Every single one.”

Your heart dropped, and you stepped away from Eddie. “No you didn’t,” you said. “If you liked me, you would’ve just told me.”

“And I wanted to,” Eddie said. “But I was shy and scared. I was terrified that you would reject me, so I… I found a way you couldn’t reject me.” 

Your mouth felt dry, and you felt warm under Eddie’s gaze. “Eddie,” you uttered. “Y-You didn’t really… You’re not…” 

“I can prove it,” Eddie said quickly. He went back to his throne and grabbed his metal lunchbox from the floor, and he opened it up to pull out several scraps of notebook paper, the same ones that your letters came on. You recognized it as the same, because the blue lines were a little smudged— a defect from the notebook itself. “Look, here was me drafting today’s letter during free period, I rewrote it so many times before I got the version I gave you.” 

“B-But,” you stammered. “Your handwriting…”

“I wrote them with my left hand,” Eddie told you. “I knew you’d recognize my handwriting.”

You felt suffocated as you sorted through the scraps of paper from Eddie’s lunchbox, and you grabbed them and held them in a tight fist. “Why didn’t you just tell me?” you asked, tears threatening your eyes. Under any other circumstance, you would have thought it was funny, but your emotions twisted deep in your gut. You had to tell him that the feeling was mutual. “Ed, I wouldn’t have—”

“You wouldn’t have made fun of me?” Eddie supplied, tightening his arms over his chest. “The only girl I hang out with and I fall head over heels for you, how cliche is that? I-I would want you to make fun of me.”  

“No, Eddie, stop,” you said. “Stop putting words in my mouth. I wouldn’t have rejected you.” 

That stopped Eddie dead in his tracks. His fingers played with the ends of his hair, pressing them to his lips, and he finally mumbled out, “Really?” 

“Of course not, Ed,” you told him. Your chest burned with the confession, and you stepped closer to him, taking his hand back. “I really like you. Y-You’re so… Right. You’re just right for me.”

Eddie seemed shocked, taken aback, but his hand stayed in yours tightly. “Really?” he asked. “But I’m… Me.”

“And that’s why I like you,” you said. “You’re so weird and you’re so sweet and… And I’m glad it’s you. I wanted it to be you.” 

Eddie smiled for the first time, and he stepped closer to you until you could nearly hear his heartbeat. “Can I kiss you?” he asked. “I told you that’s the first thing I’d do, is kiss you.”

“Please,” you whispered, and Eddie didn’t waste any time. His hand went to the back of your neck and tugged you into his body, and he kissed you, pressing his lips sweetly to yours. Your hands floated up, and you touched your palms to his chest as you kissed him back. 

You loved the way Eddie kissed you, passionate but not hungry, sweet but not needy, his fingers touching your hair. His mouth felt so nice against yours, and you opened your mouth to deepen the kiss. Eddie tilted his head and his hands went down to your waist, tugging you fully against his body as his tongue carefully snaked into your mouth. 

You finally broke the kiss, and you couldn’t help but smile up at him, and he gave you a wide smile. “Can you keep leaving me those little notes?” you asked. “I really like them. But maybe you can sign them with your name now.” 

“Of course,” Eddie said, and he kissed you once more. “I’m glad you liked them.”

“I do,” you told him, and you placed a quick kiss on his mouth. “Um, maybe you could come by my house tonight. We could… I don’t know, hang out.” 

Eddie smiled. “Sure thing, princess. Give me one more kiss, then you gotta go. Don’t wanna leave Henderson waiting too long.”

You smiled and draped your arms over Eddie’s shoulders, and you kissed him one last time, admiring the taste of him as his tongue claimed your mouth again. He tasted like cigarettes and like the distinctive tang of skin, but it was wonderful no matter what. “Hey,” Eddie whispered when the kiss broke, and his big hand lightly captured your cheek. “You wanna be my girlfriend?” 

“Of course,” you told him. “Oh, Eddie, I’d love to.” 

“Good,” Eddie said softly, his cheeks turning red. “Good, I’m glad. Umm… I’ll see you later tonight.” 

You didn’t leave Dustin waiting for much longer, even though you could have stayed in the drama club room and kissed Eddie for hours. True to your word, you stopped at McDonalds on your way to Dustin’s house, and you sat in the car and ate with him. “What did Eddie wanna talk to you about?” Dustin asked, munching on a fry. “He seemed really intense.” 

You shrugged. “Nothing,” you said. “Just asking about an assignment for a class.”

“Eddie…” Dustin began. “Asked you… about homework?” 

“Why do you doubt me?” you asked, shoving him playfully. “What else would we be talking about?”

“I don’t know,” Dustin started, obviously having made a list. “D&D, maybe? C’mon, what were you guys really talking about? We both know that Eddie would never ask about homework.”

“Why do you wanna know so badly?” you asked. “Why isn’t it enough to just… Not know? Or care?”

“You know me, I have to care,” Dustin told you. “Spill it. What’s up?”

You sighed, looking down at the pack of chicken nuggets in your lap, and you chewed your lip. You knew that Dustin could be trusted with the truth and not to tell anyone else, and something in your chest made you giddy when you considered saying it out loud for the first time. But, did Eddie want Dustin to know? “I’ve been…” you started. “Getting some letters. Like, little love notes in my locker. Like the one I showed you, only way more than just one. Just stuff about how I’m pretty and everything, whatever, right? Eddie was with me when I got the one today, and he was just asking me about the note. Nothing major at all.” 

“Why does Eddie care about love notes?” Dustin asked. “Who are they from? Is he jealous?”

“They’re anonymous, just like the first one,” you told him. “I don’t know who’s writing them or why… Well, why, obviously they like me, but—”

“Can I see one?” Dustin asked. 

“Fuck off!” you huffed with a smile. “No, you cannot, that’s personal and private.”

“But Eddie read one.”

“Because he grabbed it from my hand,” you told him. “Eddie doesn’t care about personal and private, you know that.”

“So why did he ask to talk to you privately, if he doesn’t care about private?” Dustin asked. 

“I don’t know,” you said. Annoyance was starting to bubble in your stomach, and you rolled your eyes. “You’re asking too many questions, you’re starting to act like you’re my little brother. See if I ever bring you to McDonalds after school again.” 

Dustin didn’t seem satisfied with the way you suddenly ended the conversation, but he didn’t pry any further. The rest of the car ride was mostly silent, save for Dustin thanking you when you got him home, and he added, “If you find out who’s sending those notes, let me know, okay? I’m invested in the mystery now.” 

“Sure thing, Dusty,” you told him. “I’ll see you later.” 

The rest of the evening was slow as you waited. You had no idea when Eddie would show up or in what fashion, and you tried to distract yourself until you could see him. You finished your homework, you watched television with your parents, you did everything you could think of, and no Eddie. You knew he wasn’t the type to show up at your front door, holding flowers or something cheesy like that, but you didn’t know exactly what to expect. 

Your answer came after you went to bed, around midnight. You had given up hope of Eddie actually showing up, and your heart raced in your chest. Did he mean it? Did he mean any of it? Or was he just playing a prank, kissing you and fucking with you for fun? It didn’t seem like the type of guy that Eddie was, but your anxiety didn’t let you think any differently. 

You had already settled in bed, trying not to cry because of the whole ordeal, but a light tinkling on your window made you look up from your pillow. It wasn’t raining, you knew that much, and you slowly got out of bed and went to your window. The streetlight cast a shadow through your curtains, and your heart soared when you recognized Eddie’s frizzy curls in silhouette. 

Quickly, you threw back your curtains and were met with Eddie’s smiling face, and you wrenched open the window to get him inside. “My parents are asleep,” you told him softly. “But they’re upstairs.” 

“Good to know,” Eddie said, his smile still a mile wide, and he climbed through your window and wrenched it back closed. Finally, with a sigh, he turned to you, and he, sighing, said, “Sorry I’m late, sweetheart. I had some shit I had to deal with.” 

“It’s fine,” you told him. “You’re here now, that’s what matters.” 

“Glad to hear it,” Eddie said, and he stepped closer, into your space. “Can I please kiss you?” 

“Oh, is that what you wanna do?” you asked with a cheeky smile, and Eddie rolled his eyes playfully. 

“Well, yeah,” he said. He took your hand and pulled you into his body, and he pressed a chaste kiss to your lips, making you giggle. “I didn’t sneak in your window at midnight just to shoot the shit, you know? B-But we don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.” 

“I know,” you assured him. “What if, umm… I-I want to do stuff with you, y’know? I just… I just want you to know…” 

“Know what, princess?” Eddie asked softly. He led you over to the bed and he sat on the edge, and you were quick to straddle his waist and lay a kiss on his mouth. He didn’t hesitate to kiss back, his tongue snaking into your mouth once more, and his hands went comfortably to your waist, his fingers digging under the waistband of your pajama pants to feel your skin. His hand was still cold from the night outside, and you shivered as his hand ghosted around to the front of your pants. “What do you wanna tell me?” 

“I-I mean, you probably figured this out,” you stammered. “I haven’t ever had a boyfriend and guys at school don’t particularly like me, but, umm…” 

“Baby,” Eddie started, his hands readjusting to sit lightly on your ass. “Are you a virgin?” 

You sighed heavily. “I’m sorry,” you said, and Eddie shook his head quickly, his eyebrows knitting together. 

“No, no, don’t be sorry,” he told you. “You have nothing to apologize for. I’m not upset, baby, I promise.” 

“Do you still wanna…” you started, and Eddie started nodding before you could even finish your sentence. 

“Yes, I do,” he told you. “Very much so.” His hands remained gentle on your ass as he leaned forward and buried his face in your neck, and you couldn’t help but giggle as he kissed over a sensitive spot. “Oh, right there?” he asked as you playfully batted at his head, but then he placed his mouth over the spot and sucked hard, definitely hard enough to leave a mark. 

A gasp left your mouth at the intense feeling that washed through you, and your hands clutched hard at the shoulders of Eddie’s jackets. “Eddie,” you uttered, unable to think of anything more profound to say as you felt heat pooling between your legs. “F-Fuck, Eddie.” 

“I know, princess,” Eddie said softly. “Does that feel good? You like it?”

“Love it,” you told him, and you giggled again when he kissed the spot. 

“Oh, I knew you were sensitive,” Eddie chuckled. “Fuck, I love that. Y’know, I meant it when I wrote that you were beautiful. The most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen.” 

“Shut up,” you said, but Eddie silenced your protests by pressing his teeth into your sweet spot, drawing another gasp from your throat. 

“I won’t,” Eddie mumbled against your neck. “You’re gorgeous, princess. I’ve wanted you for so long.” 

“Have you ever…” you started, unsure how exactly to phrase the question. It burned at your chest though, and you knew that you had to expel it somehow. “Umm… I don’t know… Jerked off? To me?”

Eddie laughed, then, seeing that you were serious, cleared his throat. “I mean,” he began. “I have, yeah. Is that weird?” 

Your heart thumped inside your chest, and you swallowed thickly. You liked the answer and the thought of it, and you shook your head at him. “I don’t think it’s weird,” you told him. “I just… Wanted to know, I guess.” 

“Now you know, baby,” Eddie said. “Have you ever masturbated to me?” 

You shook your head. “I don’t really know how to do it,” you admitted, feeling foolish for your lack of knowledge. 

Eddie’s eyes softened as he cooed at you. “Aw, my sweet girl,” he whispered softly. “I can show you how.” 

“You know how?” you asked, and Eddie shrugged. 

“I know a little bit more than you do,” Eddie told you, and he tapped your temple with a ringed finger. “Silly thing. Get on your back, princess.”

You scrambled off of Eddie’s lap as your pussy did yummy little flips, and you settled yourself against your pillows as Eddie followed. He pressed his hips between your legs, settling himself right against you, and you squirmed a little at the feel of his cool belt buckle touching the inside of your thigh. Eddie swiped a quick kiss on your lips, and his fingers expertly twisted in your pajama shorts and tugged them down your legs slowly. “God, you’re gorgeous,” Eddie whispered under his breath, his eyes soaking up the sight of you. 

“Shut up,” you mumbled, pressing your hands to your face, and Eddie wrapped his long fingers around your wrists and tugged them away, pressing your wrists into the bed beside your head. 

“No, princess, I won’t,” Eddie told you. “I’ve wanted you for months, I only started the letters after Dustin told me I should—”

“Dustin?” you exclaimed. “This was his idea? He was begging me to tell him this afternoon!” 

“No, no, it was my idea,” Eddie said quickly. “He just encouraged me. But he knew; he always knew.”

“That little shit!” you laughed. “He was doing a good job of acting innocent.”

“Sounds like someone I know,” Eddie chuckled, his brown eyes flashing mischievously, and he pressed his hand to your pussy, the only thing separating you being the thin fabric of your panties. “Only you aren’t acting.” 

“Eddie, baby,” you whimpered, and Eddie put a quick, silencing kiss on your lips. 

“I know, princess,” he said, pouting. “You’re a needy little thing, aren’t you?” He didn’t wait for you to answer; he slipped one of his fingers inside your panties and felt down your leaking slit until his fingertip nudged your hole. Your hips bucked down into your mattress with shock, and Eddie kissed you again. 

“Pay attention,” Eddie told you. “I’m gonna teach you how to do this, okay?” You nodded quickly, and Eddie’s finger glided back up to the top of your cunt. With two fingers, he carefully spread your lips, and his middle finger expertly pressed against a sensitive spot of your flesh. You gasped at the shock of pleasure it sent into your legs, and Eddie grinned. “That’s your clit, baby, okay? Touch that, and be nice with it. Show me what a fast learner you are.” 

“How do I touch it?” you asked, and Eddie lightly circled the pad of his finger along your clit.

“Play with it,” he told you. “Circle it around, like this. Or this…” His finger started differently then, a motion almost like a light flicking towards your belly. That made your hips jut down again, and Eddie chuckled deep in his chest. “Just like that. Show me, baby, touch your clit for me.” 

Your hand shook as you lowered it down your body, and Eddie flopped himself beside you, undoing his belt as he watched you. Your finger definitely felt clumsier than Eddie’s did, a little softer than his too, but your reacted the same way as you copied the flicking motion he had done; you squirmed under your own touch, playing with your clit until you felt it throb with every pass of blood through your veins. 

“Yeah,” Eddie breathed, his eyes hungrily watching you. “Just like that, princess, I knew you were a fast learner. Keep doing that…” He trailed off, and he was quick to press his mouth to your neck, finding your sensitive little sweet spot again. The throbbing became too much to ignore as he kissed and sucked at your neck, and you finally let out a little whimper. 

“Oh, good,” Eddie whispered in your ear. “Just what I like to hear. So, you can masturbate like that, princess, or…” he paused and lightly let his fingers touch you again, this time circling your leaking hole. Then slowly, he pressed his first finger inside you, past your lips and into your pussy. You whimpered at the odd intrusion, loving every second of it, and Eddie’s kisses touched your neck again. “You can add your fingers. Fuck, you’re tight, aren’t you?” 

Shocks rocked your belly as Eddie’s finger went deeper inside you, deeper than you thought possible, until his knuckle was resting right against your hole, the bull-shaped ring pressing cooly against you. “See, isn’t that nice?” Eddie said softly. “God, you’re so soft.” 

You couldn’t help but whine his name, just a quiet mumble of “Eddie”, and he kissed your neck softly to silence you. “Rub your clit, princess,” Eddie whispered in your ear. “I can make you feel so good.”

You did as he told you, your fingers clumsily playing with the sensitive nerve again, and Eddie curled his finger inside you, pressing the soft pad of his finger into that spongy nerve inside you. A small gasp issued from your mouth, and Eddie’s kisses on your neck became deeper, adding the tips of his teeth, nipping softly at your skin. With the biting at your neck, the stimulation on your clit, and Eddie touching that spot inside you, the experience was almost overwhelming, and you turned your face away from Eddie to keep him from seeing the tears in your eyes. 

“No, no, princess,” Eddie said, and his free hand lightly touched your cheek, turning you back to him. “Baby, why’re you crying? Are you okay?” 

You sniffled and nodded. “J-Just feels good,” you stammered. “I-I’m okay.”

“Do we need to stop?” Eddie asked, his face etched in concern. 

“No!” you cried. “Don’t stop, Eddie, please don’t stop.” 

Eddie nodded, satisfied with your answer, and your chest warmed at his sentiments. He was worried about you. You loved that he had noticed that something was wrong and immediately asked after you. It was endearing, and only proved to you how much he liked you. Or, as he had said as he read the letter… “Do you love me, Ed?” you whispered. 

“Of course I do, princess,” Eddie told you, kissing your cheek. “I’m crazy for you, you’re my special girl.”

“Okay,” you whispered. “I just wanted to know.”

“Do you love me?” Eddie asked, and you looked at him to see his eyes wide and owlish, hopeful for a good answer. 

“Yeah,” you told him. “I love you, Eddie, I really do.” 

“Good, I’m glad to hear that,” Eddie laughed, seeming almost nervous, like he hadn’t expected you to say that. “Are you okay if I add another finger? Will that be too much?” 

“Please,” you told him. As good as his finger felt, you wanted more. You needed more, you needed as much as Eddie was willing to give you. “Eddie—”

He added his second finger inside you without much warning, and the stretch made you whimper in pain. It was painful exactly, but it burned, and you writhed under his grip. “I know, baby,” Eddie pouted. “It feels weird, I’m sorry. But it’ll be better soon, it’ll all feel better soon.” 

Slowly, his fingers worked to fuck you, gently sliding in and out of you as his fingertips grazed that spot inside you. All the while, you were still clumsily playing with your clit. It felt good, but you knew that Eddie could make it a hundred times better, and you whispered, “E-Eddie, oh, fuck… Touch me, Eddie, please, please…”

“Where do you want me to touch you?” Eddie asked. “Use your words, princess, where do you want me?” 

“Touch my clit,” you mewled, your back arching in time with him driving his fingers home inside you. You cried out at the pleasure that hit your belly, and you grabbed hard at your bedsheets. “Eddie!” 

“Shh, princess,” Eddie whispered, laughing lightly. “Don’t want your parents hearing you.” His free hand lightly nudged yours away, though, and his skilled fingers started in on your clit, rubbing it better than you ever could. Your pussy throbbed as he started, clenching around his fingers, and Eddie smiled. “Yes, baby, good girl,” he mumbled. “Are you close? Are you gonna cum on my fingers?” 

Your mind felt cooked, not wanting to work or form words coherently, and you could only manage to whisper, “Eddie.”

“I think that’s a yes,” Eddie chuckled. “Come on, baby, just tell me before you cum. You’re such a good girl, I can’t wait to get inside you.” 

The reminder of what was yet to come made your stomach do flips, and you moaned softly as his fingers sped up. With his speed came a new sensation, one that made your thighs and legs shake, and you whimpered out and turned your head to press your mouth to his. Eddie kissed you back instantly, kissing you hard, his tongue snaking into your mouth, and he fucked you on his fingers, the wet sounds of your pussy almost worringly loud. 

A jolt of electricity hit your body, making your toes curl, and you moaned into Eddie’s warm mouth. “Eddie,” you gasped. “You’re gonna make me cum—”

“Do it, baby,” Eddie told you. “Cum, baby, you can do it.”

He only had to fuck you once more, his thumb rubbing your clit harshly and quickly, and you covered your mouth with your hand to stifle your moan as you gushed all over his fingers. He watched you greedily, drinking up the sight of you as you shook and writhed under his touch, and he carefully pulled his fingers from inside you. Your bedroom was lit only by your bedside lamp, but you could still see your cum glistening on his fingers, and you watched as he licked at his fingers, cleaning himself up. “Good girl,” he whispered, his free hand smoothing down your hair. “You did so well, I’m proud of you. Mmm, and you taste so good too.”

“Will you fuck me?” you asked, and Eddie smiled. 

“Not tonight, princess,” he told you, and your eyebrows furrowed as you whined. “Oh, don’t start with that, baby. It’s your first time, and I want it to be special. I wanna take you on a date and do all that cheesy shit before I really take your virginity. Okay?”

“Okay,” you whispered. “I love you, Ed.”

“I love you too, princess,” Eddie said. “C’mere, I wanna hold you.” 

You squirmed closer to Eddie, and you pulled your panties back on as his arm snaked around your waist. He smelled good, like cheap cologne, and you turned and buried your face in his chest. His hand soothingly rubbed your back, lightly scratching with his dull fingernails, and you licked your lips as a question came to you. “Does Dustin really know about the letters?” you asked, and Eddie smiled.

“I never let him help write them,” Eddie said. “He doesn’t know what they say. I don’t even think he knew that I did it all the time, I think he only knew of the first one.” 

“He’s such a little shit,” you giggled. “I’m gonna kill him.” 

“Not if I do it first,” Eddie said, and he pressed a kiss to your head. 

“Maybe we can kill Dustin together?” you offered, and Eddie laughed, a genuine thing deep in his chest. 

“Whatever you want, princess,” Eddie told you. “I’d do anything for you.” 

[piratecaptainscaptainpirates]

Another thing I just adore about Ed and Stede's dynamic is Ed certainly does not NEED anyone to protect him. He's a very competent person who is extremely successful and has a reputation built on being brilliant and a tactical genius. It would be so, so easy for Stede's desire to help and protect Ed to come across as condescending at best and racist at worst.

But it doesn't, because Stede isn't perfomative about it. He doesn't walk around acting like Ed is helpless or stupid. He just responds, earnestly and genuinely, when he sees Ed is in distress.

Take the party in s1e5 for example. Ed is visibly very upset, and even though Stede stops him from going back in there, we know that Ed could probably easily find a way to terrify the people who were so cruel to him. He's only got one single-shot gun, sure, but we know Ed's smart enough he could figure this out. But Stede tells Ed that he'll deal with it, and he embarasses them, gets them to light their ship on fire, and Ed looks at him like he just hung the fucking stars in the sky.

Has anyone ever stood up for Ed like this before? Ever? Is it any wonder we first see Ed thinking about kissing Stede right after this?

And then Ned Low is the other obvious example. Other people have rightly pointed out that the moment Ned died was when he was playing with Ed's hair, mocking him, and we see Stede's furious face. Ned just signed his own death certificate, he just didn't know it yet, because Stede was never going to let him leave his ship alive after that. They go out of their way this episode to show us how Ned is insulting, mocking, and racist towards Ed to make sure we know exactly why Stede was never going to let him live.

And, yes, Ed did tell Stede that he shouldn't kill Ned, trying to protect Stede. But Ed isn't surprised when Stede does it - at worst, he feels bad that Stede thought the "poison" of killing someone was worth it because of Ed. I think Ed knew, at least on some level, especially after what happened to those rich racist dickheads - he can count on Stede making people who are awful to him pay for it.

I love that Stede will take people insulting him without blinking an eye all day, but the second they're mean to Ed it's fucking on sight. No one insults his princess and gets away with it. And I'm sure Ed feels bad that Stede does these things for him, but I hope he's starting to realize that he deserves to be cared for the way Stede looks out for him. These two want to protect each other so bad.

In conclusion, I guess: if you're staying at their inn and you say a single mean thing to Ed, you better start fuckin' running

[wildgeese98]

Many thoughts whirring in my mind about Colin and Alice's conversation at the start of the episode. Specially the issue of personifying Freddie.

Colin starts out the yelling at and talking about the system like it has sentience and is causing him problems on purpose. But as soon as Alice starts talking to it, he immediately shuts her down. It's rich of him to say they shouldn't be personifying Freddie when he was literally just doing it. Why the double standard?

I think Colin knows or suspects something about Freddy that he's is not letting on. Does he have some reason to think that Freddie may have some level of intelligence? He knows something is listening to them through the computers. It makes sense for that to be connected to Freddie. It's possible that the system is actually purposefully breaking itself and causing issues and Colin has picked up on it. Making him more likely to ascribe sentience to it, but also not want to call too much attention to it. Maybe because he knows something is listening he doesn't want to let on how much he knows or suspects about Freddie's capabilities.

Then there's his vehement refusal to involve central IT. The red tape excuse is plausible but I think Colin knows that if anyone else with any kind of expertise looked at the system they would know that something is up. I think he wants to figure out what's going on himself. He doesn't want anyone else coming in and messing with his investigation. That or he has some reason to not trust central IT that he's also keeping to himself.

Also I'm sure I'm not the only one side eyeing the .jmj error. Yeah, yeah, Jon, Martin, Jonah. Again though, that feels so, obvious. It feels like something put in specifically to catch the attention of and distract everyone who is looking for clues about the archives boys being in the computers. The question then is distract us from what?