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#realized it is almost 4 a.m.
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RED GROWING BACK
blame it on the liminal spaces playlist i was listening to <3
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mattodore · 1 year
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family lineage
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neondiamond · 10 months
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undiscovered-horizon · 7 months
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4 A.M. - Sanji x Reader
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SUMMARY: Sanji's doing prep for the next day and you can't sleep which leads to a heartfelt and intimate encounter.
WORDCOUNT: ~ 1.5k
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It's around 4 A.M. when you get up from your hammock-turned-cot and decide to find something to do. Sleep clearly isn't coming. The past two hours of staring at the ceiling and swaying with the boat filled you with annoyance at your sudden case of insomnia.
Walking down the narrow corridor of the lower deck, you can hear the tiniest of creaks as the caravel floats along the waves. The night is so quiet, you can almost hear Luffy's snoring from his room. Usopp is mumbling in his sleep. Something about a pirate crew, carrots and onions. Nami and Zoro seem to be peaceful sleepers although with time you've learned that it's only a game of appearances - the thief and the hunter sleep with one eye open.
With each step, you can hear the repetitive sound more clearly. It's quick, separated by scraping.
The low light of the kitchen makes Sanji look almost inhuman, like the spirit of a chief cook who can't let go of the ship he had spent his entire life on. He's still in the same clothes, although the double-breasted jacket is nowhere in sight. The sleeves of his striped shirt are rolled halfway up his forearms. Where he's standing, the lonely lightbulb illuminates only half of his silhouette. The blond man toes the line of visibility as though he might disappear when you blink.
He looks almost divine.
"Can't sleep?" Sanji asks without looking away from the cutting board.
Only then, when he lets you know he's aware of your presence, do you realize you've been leaning against the doorframe and watching him for a good few minutes. Knowing Sanji, he won't think you odd but you're still a little flustered.
"Yeah. You?" you answer. In a few slow steps you're standing next to him, leaning your lower back against the kitchen counter.
For a moment, Sanji looks away from the cutting board and chopped carrots. His eyes stare into yours for a moment. It's nearly an inborn reflex that a wide smile curves his lips when he sees you.
"Not a fan of sleeping alone," he says and winks at you before going back to cutting vegetables.
The blush on your cheeks darkens a few shades (maybe he won't notice in the kitchen's twilight?). Truthfully, you have entertained that thought more than once and wondered whether similar fantasies kept him awake at night too. But you always dismissed them, thinking it wrong to have such intimate dreams regarding someone who might not even reciprocate your fondness. Sanji is, after all, a ladies' man - flowery words leave his mouth whenever a woman is around, no matter if she's taken or not interested.
Still, you believe there is something more between you and Sanji. Sometimes you think you've deluded yourself into believing this but it's moments like these, like the fond silence you're sharing now, that convince you it's not just your imagination:
Most of the time, the conversation between you and Sanji flows like a swift stream. But now, when the two of you are too tired to sleep, the silence is just as good. Even if you're not exchanging words and ambiguous comments, you feel understood. Like he knows you well enough to be able to guess what's on your mind. And you know what he might say in return, all the advice and wax poetic he revels in telling you. It's perfectly strange to converse with someone without saying a single word.
"Wanna see a trick?" you ask, breaking the silence.
Sanji is putting his chopped vegetables into large bowls. The movement of his hands is both careless and calculated as though he's letting his muscle memory take over the very last step of prepping ingredients for the next day's cooking. He's done this so many times, it's useless to think about the action too much.
"You trying to impress me, princess?" he asks in a low voice with a half-grin plastered on his face. The mischievous glint in his eye never quite seems to go away, especially when you're around.
"Nah," you answer, shaking your head, "just practising to show off in front of Zoro."
Sanji tries to pout but a genuine smile is tugging at the corners of his lips. "Cold."
Still, his eyes are glued to you. Though part of you is convinced it's not because you're about to show him a cheap fair trick. You take one of the teaspoons lying around and lift it in front of your face.
"You better not blink," you warn him.
He gives you a strange look.
"And lose precious few seconds of admiring you? Never."
Like most times, you're not sure how much of his sweet words you can believe.
With a quick move of wrists and fingers, you make the teaspoon disappear. After practising for a few days, the sleight of hand is almost flawless.
Sanji nods with appreciation.
“So you’re a magician, eh?” A low chuckle rumbles in his throat. “This explains how come you’ve bewitched me entirely.”
He leans on his arm against the edge of the counter. His head is slightly tilted as he's looking down at you. The lack of space between your bodies wouldn't raise an eyebrow in any other circumstances but now, when the night is dark and silent, the close proximity makes it hard to breathe. Your chests nervously rise and fall as you're breathing in each other's air.
“Truth be told," you begin in a slightly shaky voice, "I don’t know how to reverse the spell I put on you.”
But it seems as though Sanji has seen through your facade of humour and banter. The playful glint in his eyes mellows, becoming something more heartfelt. Your breath gets stuck in your throat and you must remind yourself to breathe.
“I’m quite content doting on you for the rest of my life."
You clench your jaw and look away for a moment. Flirty banter with Sanji is meant to remain just that - half-hearted comments with no strings attached. The problem is that, against your better judgement, you've been letting his wax poetic weigh down heavy on you, savouring each compliment and ambiguous remark like a soft river wearing down an unmovable boulder over time.
“Sanji," you whisper, "you need to stop saying all those nice things.”
“Why?” His voice is just as breathy and quiet.
“Because I’m starting to believe you.”
Something about his expression changes. You can't quite put a finger on it but Sanji's face looks softer, almost somber. His shoulders become tense as he wipes his hands on the dishrag hanging over his shoulder and tosses it on the countertop.
"Would that be so terrible, love?" Sanji drones his words. Part of you is convinced that he already knows the answer. "To believe that my every thought belongs to you?" His eyelids flutter as his gaze falls to your lips. "That I would tear out my own heart and bring it to you in my teeth if you asked for it?"
The short silence feels unbearable. You can hear your own heart thundering in your chest, beating at your ribcage to finally be freed. To let it make the decision this time.
“Alright, you’ve done it," you whisper more to yourself than to him.
You can hear Sanji sharply inhaling when you grab the collar of his elegant shirt and pull him into a feverish kiss. He tastes like cigarettes and spearmint chewing gum. His shirt is imbued with the smell of cooking oil. All of those strong aromas you've learned to associate with comfort and security.
His lips move against yours with passion and desperation known only to those who made friends with longing. Sanji places his hands around your waist, pulling you even closer to his body. If he could pull you just a little more, merge the two of you into one union, he wouldn't have to go a second without you.
Then, Sanji pulls just an inch away. His hot, heavy breath brushes against your cheeks. Swollen, red lips look even more enticing than they did before.
"Are you really going to woo Zoro with a magic trick?" he asks, somewhat tense.
Your laughter brightens up the dead of night. Sanji feels like his chest is about to burst open with flowers blooming inside his ribcage where his heart should be. And it would have been if he hadn't given it to you the moment you met.
"Just shut up."
Shaking your head, you kiss him again. Still holding you close, Sanji pushes you against the kitchen counter. One of his hands leaves your waist only to rest against the side of your head to deepen the kiss.
It's around 4 A.M. when you wonder whether being in love is like having a song stuck in your head. Or like an echo that forever repeats a single name.
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mncxbe · 10 months
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Could you write about the bsd boys' (dazai, chuuya and akutagawa) reactions to their fem s/o having an intense orgasm? like, she squirms, moans loudly and throws her head back (bonus points if they kiss her neck when she does)
I got so excited when I saw your request and I loved writing it. Hope you enjoy.
4 a.m
𝑪𝒉𝒖𝒚𝒂, 𝑫𝒂𝒛𝒂𝒊, 𝑨𝒌𝒖𝒕𝒂𝒈𝒂𝒘𝒂, 𝒙 𝒇𝒆𝒎!𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓
𝑮𝒆𝒏𝒓𝒆: smut♡
°☆○
𝑫𝒂𝒛𝒂𝒊
this man knows your body like the back of his hand and he took his time to learn how to please you
most of the time he takes it slow, making sure you enjoy every second of it
Dazai is a tease; he always denies your orgasms, edging you until your core aches
your pleas and begs only determine him to keep up this act
he prefers to be on top so he can see your expressions; he's so mesmerized by the way your eyes roll back and the way you bite on your lower lip as he finally allows you to cum
The bedroom was filled with the sound of your whimpers.
"Dazai, please I can't take it anymore" you whined, tears starting to cloud your vision. Your boyfriend has been at it for hours now, edging you beyond belief. No matter how much you begged him he just wouldn't let you cum. As for now, he had you on your back, thighs pressed against your chest as he rammed himself into you.
He only only cooed at your words, mischief glimmering in his eyes. "Aww bella. I'm sure you can take a bit more. Would you do that for me?"
You only nodded, earning a grin from the man. "Good girl" he said lowly, flipping you over to your belly. He raised your hips until they were alligned with his cock, one of his hands pressing onto your lower back to keep your curve. When he thrusts into you again, a sharp moan escaped your lips. "There you go, bella. Here's your reward for being so good today"
You could only squirm and babble nonsense into your pillow as he moved in and out of you at a relentless pace. Soon enough, you were getting close to your release, your walls clenching around him. You half expected him to deny your orgasm again but he kept ramming you.
One of his calloused hands grabbed your neck, forcing your head off the sheets. "Gonna cum for me doll?" he uttered between grunts.
"Y-yes 'samu" you replied in a shaky voice. You bit down on your lower lip in attempt to contain your lewd sounds.
He leaned in, his lips ghosting over the shell of your ear "Then go ahead". His mouth found the sweet spot right under your ear and he started sucking on your skin.
This was enough to make the knot in your stomach snap. Your legs started to shake as you let out a ragged moan, almost like a cry. Your boyfriend let go of your throat, allowing your head to rest on the pillow again but he kept whispering sweet things into your ear as he worked you through your high. "That's it dear. So tight f' me"
It didn' take long for him to finish too. Even after he pulled our you were still slightly shaking. Dazai carefully placed a hand on your thigh, which gained him a sharp whine.
"N-no more" you managed to utter while trying to regain your breath.
He chuckled, taking in the view before laying next to you again. His arms snaked around your waist pulling you closer.
𝑨𝒌𝒖𝒕𝒂𝒈𝒂𝒘𝒂
no because hear me out this man doesn't really know what he's doing
compared to Dazai, he's really unexperienced and although he does his best to learn to how to please you, he lacks the confidence
he can often gets lost in the feeling of your walls wrapped around him, which causes him to pick up the pace
he literally doesn't realize that he made you cum so much until you start shaking under him, moans rolling off your lips
my baby is so confused at first but he quickly regains his composure and keeps thrusting into you.
he definitely wants to see you squirm again
praise him, tell him he's a good boy and he'll literally never stop pleasing you
Akutagawa was on top of you, his hips slapping against yours as Rashomon kept your legs open. The black fabric snaked around your body, sqeezing you in all the right places.
As a result you were a whining mess, mouth slightly agape. You were trying to conceal your fucked out expression but Akutagawa's hand seized your wrist. "Don't you dare hide from me. I wanna see how good I make you feel" he spoke in a sharp voice, his words only making you clench around him even tighter.
"Oh fuck" he cursed, hands grabbing your hips as he pushed himself deeper into you. He picked up the pace, completely focusing on the warmth of your core. He is so pussy drunk, watching as his cock went in and out of your wet folds.
The black fabric tightened around your body - the last drop in this cocktail of pleasure. Your back arched, thighs squeezing the sides of is abdomen. It was only then that his eyes moved to your face and he quite literally froze. With your eyes rolled back, your body was jolting in pleasure. "Please don't stop now, Ryuu" you pleaded, your glossy eyes meeting his. He immediately started moving again, gaining another desperate moan from you.
Soon after he came too but that didn't mean you were done. He used Rashomon to tie your legs together, hooking them over his shoulder as his fingers kneaded the plush of your hips.
"We're not done yet pretty. I wanna see you do that again, alright?" he said as he resumed his movements. It's safe to say you were in for a long night.
𝑪𝒉𝒖𝒚𝒂
Mr fancy hat is a true gentleman who proritizes your pleasure over his own
he prefers to be on top and in control but sometimes he will let you ride him. After all, what's better than receiving some special treatment from their s/o after a hard day at work?
he's quite handsy; loves seeing twitch and squirm under his touch
Chuya couldn't keep his hands to himself. And how could he? When you were riding him so prettily, nails digging into his chest as you tried to find some support; eyes shut tight. He could tell that you were close to your release by the way your movements got sloppier.
He chuckled, cupping your cheek with one of his hands as the other one traced lines along your belly.
"So pretty for me, doll. You like it when you have your way with me? I bet you do."
He thrusted his hips, making you jolt in pleasure. You picked up the pace, rocking your hips faster. Chuya's hand moved to your clit, lazily rubbing circles. "You're doing so well baby. Don't stop now" The words of praise added to the physical pleasure were enough to make you come undone.
You threw your head back, mewling in pleasure. A wave of satisfaction and desire took over your boyfriend as he watched you ride through your high. He pulled you down on him, your bare chest pressed against his and he caressed your figure.
Your body was still sensitive, each touch making you moan lowly into his ear.
Chuya's hands eventually rested on your hips but his lips went straight to your neck, leaving butterly kisses from place to place.
"Good girl. How about I get the bath ready for us?"
You gently nodded and slid off him, arms wrapping around his torso. A smile made its way to your lips "I'd love that. But let's stay like this for a bit."
"As you wish, my love" he replied, giving into your embrace.
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dangerouslyclose · 11 months
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The City - Bang Chan
Pairing: Bang Chan x fem!reader
Genre: Song Fic, Hurt/Comfort
TW: Swearing
Word Count: 1.1k
Song: The City by Ed Sheeran
You sneak into Chan's room, which isn't hard since he is at his desk with his headphones on. You get right behind him before yelling, "Oi!" while grabbing his shoulders. 
Chan jumps, spins the chair around, and whips off his headphones. “What the fuck!” Chan exclaimed. Upon noticing who it was his face immediately lit up. “Y/N, what are you doing here?” he asked, reaching his arms out for a hug. You gladly comply sitting on his lap.
“I brought over dinner for everyone,” you smiled. “Take a break and come eat.”
“I just have to finish one thing.” He said holding up one finger with a guilty smile. You gave him a skeptical look. “I promise, go get everyone and I'll be there in like 10 minutes.”
You sighed, kissing a soft peck to his lips, “just because you promised!”
“I promise!” He smiled, causing his dimples  to appear.
You walk out into the kitchen already seeing Changbin and Jisung looking at the food. “Oi!” You shouted for the second time tonight.
“Y/N!” Both boys yelled running over to give you a big bear hug.
“Hey kiddos!” You smiled into the hug. “Go grab everyone else so we can eat.” As soon as the food was mentioned both boys ran out of the room at the speed of light to get the others. Soon all of the boys were in the kitchen grabbing plates of food. Some of them got their plates and scurried back to their rooms to go back to what they were doing before. Leaving Changbin, Jisung, Felix, and you eating at the table. 
“Where is Chan hyung?” Felix asked.
“He is working on a song,” you replied with a sigh. “He said he would come out to eat in just a bit.” 
“We both know that is a lie,” Jisung said with a sad pout. “He hasn’t come out of his room for two days now. I don't know if he ate or slept at all.”
“He promised,” you whispered.
Changbin looked over at you with a confused expression, “what did you say?”
“Nothing! Eat!” You perked up. “I’ll make a plate and take it to him.” Getting up to make Channie a plate, “don’t worry, I'll make sure to take good care of him.” 
You walked into the room to see Chan in the same position he was in when you left. You quietly walk up and put the plate on his desk. He looked up with a smile, but didn't say anything. You laid down on his bed messing around on your phone until you eventually fell asleep. You rolled over and slowly opened your eyes. You saw Chan still hunched at his computer. You grabbed your phone and checked the time, 4 a.m. Getting up you slowly padded over to Chan and wrapped your arms around his shoulders, he tensed up for a second then melted into your touch. At this moment you noticed the plate of food untouched. You decided to ignore it for now. “Baby, come to bed.”
“I’m almost done, go back to sleep baby girl.” 
You sigh, “Channie, you can finish in the morning. You need sleep, love.” You talk softly, not wanting to upset him.
“No, I have to finish this now!” He spun around in his chair, getting louder. 
You stepped back and sat on the edge of the bed, “Christopher, when was the last time you slept?” You looked over to the plate of uneaten food, “or ate?” You asked sternly.
“It doesn’t fucking matter, I have to finish this!” He is yelling now.
“It does fucking matter! Because you fucking matter and it’s not healthy to not eat or sleep multiple days at a time. You can’t work on anything if you're sick!”  You also started yelling.
“You’re not my fucking mother, Y/N! So, stop telling me what to fucking do. If you are just going to keep nagging me you can fucking leave.” He finally snapped. 
Without a word you stood up and grabbed your phone, walking out of his room. You go to the kitchen to grab a glass of water. You lay down on the couch and cry yourself to sleep.
Chan woke up with a sore neck. He sat up realizing he passed out on his desk at some point. He looked at the time, 8 a.m. He was about to put his headphones back on to get back to work when he saw the plate of food. The argument suddenly replayed in his head. He shot up and ran out of his room. He was putting his shoes on by the front door when he was stopped by a hand grabbing his arm. “She’s on the couch,” Changbin said as he was leaving to go to the gym. Chan walked into the living room and saw your body curled up on the couch, asleep. He went back to his room to grab a blanket, draping it over your body. He sat down on the other end of the couch, putting his head into his hands sighing. 
“Channie?” Your soft voice startled him.
“Baby, I am so sorry. I didn’t mean to snap at you. I was just tired and stressed.”
“I know, you needed a break. I know I’m not your mother and I can’t tell you what to do. But, I love you, and care about your health. So, you can yell at me, you can tell me to leave, but I’m not going anywhere. I will be here for you no matter what love.” 
Chan was tearing up, “I am so so sorry. I love you so much. I don’t deserve you!” He fell on top of you into your open arms, crying into your chest. You ran your fingers through his hair, lightly scratching his scalp.
“Christopher, my love, you deserve the world and so much more. I will spend the rest of my life reminding you of that.” You kissed the top of his head. 
Changbin came home from the gym a couple hours later, walking into the living room he saw Jisung taking a picture of Chan cuddling on top of you. “What are you doing?” Changbin asked.
“Shh! He is finally asleep, and just look at how cute they are. I’m going to show this picture at their wedding,” Jisung replied.
If anyone looked close enough they could see the small smile that appeared on Chan’s face with the mention of your wedding. Dreaming about the small black box in his bedside table, with a promise of forever inside.
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noramoons · 1 year
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and tomorrow we’ll begin anew | l.sm
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pairing: lee seokmin x g/n reader
genre: fluff, slight angst
rating: T/13+
warnings: language, descriptions of anxiety/insecurities, (not proofread 🤡)
word count: 2k
summary: today has been a colossally bad day—luckily, your boyfriend is there to remind you that you don’t have to deal with it alone.
a/n: this is so wildly self indulgent it is not even funny…not even sure i like this piece anymore tbh but it is here! 🤭
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7:17 a.m.
The morning light streaming into your bedroom is warm, basking you in the golden glow of a new day. It doesn't bring you the reassuring warmth it's meant to, however, when you wake up to see your alarm clock and realize you've slept in an extra half hour.
8:07 a.m.
Okay, you're seven minutes late to work. Fine. Whatever. That shouldn't send your entire day up in flames.  
But it burns down anyway. Everything past that first hour is tinged with smoke, hanging heavy over you like a cloud of inevitable mistakes. You've nearly forgotten a deadline. Your printer stops working. One of your coworkers calls in sick and you end up having to do double the work you would normally do.
And even with all of that, the day drags—you think to yourself no less than five times throughout your shift that you're aren't sure you'll ever make it home again.
Okay, you aren't delusional enough to not realize how slightly dramatic you might be behaving—but you really can't remember a day at work worse than this in a long while. You feel utterly useless. There's no other way to put it.
4:12 p.m.
It isn't until your clock finally ticks on the last hour, a single glimmer of hope in what has been an absolute shitshow of a day, that you remember your day has really only just begun.
> s ❤️
> i'm heading over your way now! sorry i'm a little early lol
> just looking forward to seeing you :)
Oh, Jesus Christ. With the near-constant nightmare that your shift at work was, you'd almost entirely forgotten—you made dinner plans with your boyfriend to eat at your apartment tonight. You know that should excite you, relax you, even, at the thought of seeing him at the end of a long and exhausting day.
Instead, it fills you with nothing but dread.
Your relationship with Seokmin is new—still in that cautious, tip-toeing early phase of dating where you don't really quite know each other yet. You know him, sure—know his name, his phone number, some of his favorite shows and movies and songs, just the same as you know most of these facts about your regular friends. The fact that you do know what the tender, delicate sensation of his lips on yours feels like is the only thing so far that distinguishes him from most of your other casual friendships.
But that's not to say that you don't want to learn more. You do—God, you do. Seokmin is unbelievably funny and sweet (and punctual, you're delighted to learn now). So you'd offered last week for him to stop by your apartment for dinner, telling him he could let himself in with the key underneath the potted plant by your front door. Nothing incredibly complicated—just a dish you've made a million times and that you know you can't possibly screw up (and that you hope might still impress him a little). You'd bought the ingredients on your grocery run over the weekend, so all in all, it should be something you can do with your eyes closed.
Or it would be, at least—if the only thing on your mind now wasn't dropping everything you're currently holding at your front door and collapsing into your bed, ready to sleep off this ridiculously exhausting day. And if you'd been dating Seokmin for longer than you have now, you'd tell him that. Tell him that you need to reschedule your dinner date because the only thing propelling you through this last half hour of work is the thought of getting to be in a coma the minute you set foot in your apartment.
But you haven't been in this relationship for that long—and so you don't quite know how he'd react to that. Would he think you were avoiding him? Think that you were tired of him already? Those thoughts certainly aren't the truth—so you'll just have to put an Oscar-winning performance for a few hours in the hopes that he'll stick around for another (less inwardly painful) dinner date.
And it isn't Seokmin's fault by any means. Certainly not his fault that you're so anxious about the beginning of this relationship, one that seems almost too good to be true, that you've found yourself working overtime to make sure you don't scare him off the first time he sees you under stress like this.
You'll just have to make an effort to plan your next date on a day you're aren't so in your own damn head about everything.
5:03 p.m.
By the time you're finally speeding your way out the door of your office, you're already mentally rehearsing what you need to do to hurry the evening along as quickly as possible but not seem like you don't want Seokmin to be there. The lettuce for your meal has been washed already, so you won't have to worry about that, and there's still leftover rice in the fridge you can serve your entree with—all you need to do is marinate the meat for half an hour and cook. Maybe Seokmin will want to talk about a TV show he's been enjoying and you can steer him away from discussions about work, because you know you won't be able to hide your exhaustion if the conversation lingers there. You can't offer any wine tonight, even if it does pair terribly well with this beef—that will just have to be a next-date plan. If he sticks around.
You're still cycling through your well-crafted lines in your mind as you finally reach your apartment, bracing yourself as you make your way up each stair step, practically holding your breath as your reach your door and turn the doorknob—
The door shuts as you walk in.
He turns to face you. "Y/N!" Seokmin beams, grinning ecstatically like he hasn't seen you in years—that damn smile that fills you with the warmth of the sun itself.
You let go of that breath.
And it isn't all you let go of. Seeing that goddamn stupid smile of his is like the straw that breaks the camel's back—because your bag slips out of your fingers and onto the floor before you even realize it. There's tears welling up at the corners of your eyes, leaving tracks down your cheeks before you even realize you're crying.
But Seokmin realizes. He's rushing out of his seat in an instant, making his way to your side and begging you to tell him what's wrong as he leads you to the couch.
"Look, it's just...I just had a bad day," you admit as you sink into the couch, embarrassment creeping back in to your conscious mind once you feel Seokmin's thumb rubbing over your hand reassuringly. "That's all." Why are you like this? Even now, your first instinct is refusing to let him in—because what if he finally sees how you can really be, and runs away screaming in terror?
His frown deepens. "I don't think it was just a bad day. You can tell me, Y/N—please tell me. If you want to."
The urgency in his voice feels genuine—feels real, in a way that nothing else today has felt. So you do. "It's been nonstop," you tell him, laughing a little through a sniffle. "Like ever since the moment I woke up today, I've been doing something wrong. I was just exhausted when work was over, but I didn't want to cancel this date because we've been planning it for a week to accommodate both our schedules, and I...I like you, Seokmin." There it is—your last card, laid in front of him to examine if he so chooses. "And I would really, really rather not fuck this up."
A soft grin starts tugging up the corners of his lips before he moves to cup both of your cheeks in his soft hands. "I really like you too, you know," he says, laughing a little. And you laugh too—how can you not, when the sound of his voice is enough to set you so simply at ease, enough to practically erase all the earlier worries of the day?  "You haven't fucked anything up. I don't want you to ever feel like you have to prioritize your day over mine—if you're having a bad one, then that's what the two of us can worry about."
Seokmin squeezes your cheeks a little, and the action makes your chest tighten with affection. "I don't want you to feel like you have to put on a performance around me, either. If you've had a bad day, you've had a bad day—and you can tell me about it. I won't put on a performance for you, either. Mostly because I've been told I'm a terrible actor," he informs you, and it pulls another light laugh from you. "And just so you know...I like you too. I like being around you, no matter what. One bad day is never going to change that."
His words are like waves cascading over the sand, washing away whatever had been written there before—but you still can't shake that last itch that refuses to subside. "But I ruined our date."
"What date?" he asks, smirking a little. "I thought we scheduled it for tomorrow. Remember?"
It takes you a moment to understand what he's saying, but when you laugh, it's real—a loud, joyous laugh that leads Seokmin to burst into giggles as well, throwing his arms around you and enveloping you in that comfort that he is. He reminds you that tomorrow will always be there—a promise that you can always try again.
9:48 p.m.
The two of you talk for hours after ordering in dinner, laughing (and crying one more time) about anything that comes to mind. Seokmin was right—you don't have to put on a performance around him to feel comfortable. The conversation feels practically never-ending, which is fine by both of you.
Seokmin makes a move to stand up and leave right before 10:00 pm. You know he's giving you an out for if you still want some time to yourself today.
You reach out a hand to stop him, to make him stay—but you don't even have to say a word before he's taking your hand and sitting right back down in his seat, grinning at your ability to have an entire conversation without words.
11.27 p.m.
By the time you're crawling into bed beside Seokmin, tucking yourself into his side, the exhaustion from your day earlier is finally, finally, catching up with you—you think you're barely conscious when he's leaning over to kiss the crown of your head and humming a soft goodnight.
But it doesn't matter how the day ends, you think. Like Seokmin had said, tomorrow will always be there too—a chance to begin anew. 
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a/n: thank you sm for reading! feedback is always welcome through reblogs, comments, and messages 💛 
taglist:  @petrichor-han @kangroo-chan @ot7lonelylover @lilacdreams-00 @mainexiii @awkwardnesshabitat @lotus-dly @elizabeth11moreno @nerdysl-t @seung-scrittore  
©️ noramoons 2021-2023. do not translate or reupload my writing.
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shakespearianne · 2 years
Text
How is that for a thank you ? || Eddie Munson x fem!reader (part. 1)
Pairing: Eddie Munson x fem!henderson!reader
Warning: 18+smut (minors dni), use of weed, swearing, mention of death, a bit of a spoiler for season 4 (fix-it fic)
part. 2 can be found here
Summary:
“I-I couldn’t sleep.”
That sentence earned her a chuckle as Eddie ran his free hand into his wild hair, the palm laying on the back of his neck. 
“Neither can I. Don’t really know why. Maybe it has something to do with the fact that we almost die while saving the world less than 48 hours ago.”
“You almost die. And I saved the world plus your ass.”
“And I am now forever indebted to you, my fearless Lady Knight. But do tell, to what do I owe the gift of your presence at my humble shack?”
“Well, lucky for you my good fellow. I think I know how you can start to repay me.” 
Tags: use of y/n, fem!reader, henderson!reader, reader is dustin older sister, reader saved eddie from the dermobats, and now she can't sleep so she goes to him, you can guess what happens next, use of weed, swearing, mention of death, ennemies to lovers, mild smut in part. 1 (making out, hickeys, hair pulling), heavier smut in part. 2 (dirty talk, oral (both m and f receiving), rough sex, choking, pet names, hair pulling, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tape it!!) switch!eddie, switch!reader, dumbasses in love), angst, but also fluff and tenderness, fix-it fic, season 4 ends very differently, reader is a theater kid and a Shakespeare fan.
Word count: 3.8k
A/N: I haven't written anything in like three years and I'm french so I apologize in advance for any typos or errors! but I just couldn't help myself. I mean... Eddie... Munson... so yeah, hope you enjoy it, and I'll see you for part. 2!!
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Y/N Henderson could not sleep. 
She had tried everything, counting sheep, reading, breathing exercises, swallowing half of her mother’s bottle of melatonin gummies and even listening to her favorite Fleetwood Mac record – their second eponymous album, her father’s last gift to her before he passed away. But even Stevie Nicks’ soothing voice was useless. Sleep was determined to escape her and every time she felt like she was on the verge of grasping it, the peaceful feeling would disappear, leaving her more and more exhausted as the hours went by.
A quick look at the electronic clock beside her bed informed her that it was now 1 a.m. and Y/N knew that she would not get any sleep this night, exactly like the one before. Truth to be told, she hadn’t been able to get a decent rest since they had been back from the Upside Down, a few days ago. Memories haunted her. Nancy, with white pupils and a stiff body. Robin, usually so talkative, but quiet as the grave she then believed they would all end into, as the two girls were putting the Molotov cocktails together. Steve, squeezing her shoulder one more time before going to the Creel House to burn Vecna to the ground, with a tender look in his eyes that made Y/N realize that they might not see each other again. Her little brother, her own blood, Dustin, screaming in terror as the dermobats made their way into the trailer. And Eddie…
Eddie, cutting the rope between the two worlds. Eddie, announcing that he was buying them more time. Eddie, riding to distract Vecna’s creatures away from them. Eddie, alone, surrounding by screeching bats, Eddie getting beaten, Eddie getting choked, Eddie tumbling on the ground…
Y/N felt a shiver roaming her entire body and tears started to build up inside her throat. She could not live this terrible moment again. She refused it. But the memory would not leave her in peace. It would find her, again and again, plaguing her. Every single detail was so deeply engraved in her very being that Y/N knew that she could live a hundred years and never forget what had happened that day.
She ran. 
Towards him.
She could hear Dustin calling her, but it was cloudy, as if her little brother was so far away from her.
Nothing mattered.
Excepting him.
Him and his stupid rings, his stupid hair, his stupid guitar solo and his stupid foolish oh so ridiculously heroic ideas. 
Y/N bluntly got up and without thinking, she started to strip from her pajamas (which consisted of an old Bowie tee-shirt and shorts) and started to get dressed. She kept the tee-shirt, put her favorite pair of high-waisted black pants, a jean jacket that once belonged to her dad and laced up her old Dr Martens boots. She knew what she had to do, where she had to go and who she had to see. But first, she needed to get out of her house without waking everybody up.
Y/N had never been happier that her parents decided to buy a one-story house as she carefully opened her window and exited her bedroom. She gently landed on the grass and started to jog towards the garage. She could not use the car; the noise would surely wake her mother up. So, at the ripe age of 18, Y/N found herself using her old bike, to go to a boy’s house. The thought would have made her chuckle in another circumstance, as she rode through Hawkins, finding her way back to the trailer park. The night was surprisingly warm, but as she arrived at her goal, she shivered again. Maybe it wasn’t such a good idea after all, maybe it was a terrible mistake, maybe his uncle was here or maybe he was not here or maybe he would not want to see her or-
But still, she knocked and waited anxiously for an answer. The answer came a few seconds later, as she heard a very distinct voice starting to grunt behind the closed door.
“Jesus H. Christ, who the fuck has nothing better to do in the middle of the night than- “
Eddie stopped as soon as he saw her, the door’s handle still in his hand. His brows lightly furrowed, his full lips parting as the rest of his sentence died in his throat. But it was his eyes that caught her breath. His deep brown eyes were full of an emotion that Y/N could not quite describe – there was surprise in there, for sure, but something else, something unsure, like an unspoken question. 
“Hi.” She simply said.
“Hi.” He responded, his lips now forming a soft smile
“I-I couldn’t sleep.”
That sentence earned her a chuckle as Eddie ran his free hand into his wild hair, the palm laying on the back of his neck. 
“Neither can I. Don’t really know why. Maybe it has something to do with the fact that we almost die while saving the world less than 48 hours ago.”
“You almost die.” She observed, folding her arms with a smirk “And I saved the world plus your ass.”
“And I am now forever indebted to you, my fearless Lady Knight.” Eddie bowed as he spoke, one hand over his heart as the other laid behind his back. “But do tell, to what do I owe the gift of your presence at my humble shack?”
His smile was now mischievous, and Y/N felt an unfamiliar knot forming in her stomach. She was suddenly grateful that the night might hide whatever shade of red had now spread out on her cheeks. She mentally cursed herself for being so… responsive and hawked to regain her composure before talking again.
“Well, lucky for you my good fellow. I think I know how you can start to repay me.” 
______________________________________________________________
“Wait, you actually got Mrs O’Donnell to apologize?”
Y/N burst into laughter as Eddie suddenly repositioned himself on the couch, sitting on one of his legs to face her. She took another drag of the joint, enjoying the delicate feeling of the heavy smoke leaving her mouth to vanish into the trailer. A Black Sabbath record was playing, Eddie had insisted that smoking weed and listening to music were indivisible and strictly refused to let her choose whatever they would be listening to. “I provide the weed; I get to choose the atmosphere.” He had said and she had simply agreed, knowing that this battle was already lost.
“And rightfully so! She kept arguing that I did not understand anything about Hamlet’s monologue when it’s that fuckin’ stuck-up bitch that teaches Literature despite being completely obvious to the true meaning of William fuckin’ Shakespeare’s greatest work!”
She was extraordinary pretty when talking about something that was clearly a passion of hers, Eddie noticed. Not that Y/N wasn’t beautiful otherwise. Eddie was not completely blind to the fact that Dustin’s older sister was exquisitely charming. It was not just her looks but also the way she carried herself into the world, confident yet accessible. She was funny, a lot more than Eddie would ever admit out loud, and she was never ashamed of anything. She had proudly defended her little brother when he joined Hellfire, even offering that the club could use the classroom where the drama team created and kept their sets and accessories. Eddie knew that her family, given and chosen, meant everything to Y/N and the past few days had shown him how far she was willing to go in order to protect those she loved. 
So, yeah, the saying “True beauty comes from within” wasn’t a lie when talking about Y/N Henderson. But her beauty wasn’t just the consequence of her good nature. She was smoking hot, especially with that slightly otherwise David Bowie tee-shirt – ok, her music tastes were not that bad, although not metal enough to Eddie’s taste – that was kind enough to be a little loose at the top, offering the sight of a naked shoulder. 
But there was a sparkle in her eyes tonight that Eddie had never seen before. Well, perhaps that wasn’t true. Because the way she was talking – fast, with her hands dancing before her face like she was tracing mysterious shapes into the air and a voice that was higher than usual – her demeanor reminded him of another situation where she had shown a similar behavior. 
She was running.
She was running towards him.
He wanted to scream, to forbid her to come close because he knew, as he saw her figure coming closer and closer to where he was laying, fighting, screaming; he knew that she was also running towards a certain death.
But still, she ran. 
Eddie shook his head slightly, trying to banish the thought. But it was proving incredibly difficult, especially as the person who had occupied the entirety of his mind for the last few days and who had played the leading role in the memory that he was struggling to forget, was sitting so close to him. Even when they had brought him back from the Upside Down, wounded and barely standing, he wanted to make sure she was fine. Even when the cops had interrogated him for hours, finally leaving him be as they decided that he wasn’t so guilty after all, and that Jason Carver might had been the gruesome killer (Eddie did not know who to thank for this sudden change of heart from Hawkins police but he had a gut feeling that the order might had come from superior authorities), Eddie’s only worry had been that Dustin and her would suffer from being with him when he was brought to the hospital. She had been the only constant element in this chaotic moment and now she was smoking with him, more carefree and relaxed than he had ever saw her before. 
How she had picked the shield and the spears from the ground without hesitation and launched herself towards the dermobats.
How she had roared at them, protecting Eddie with her own body.
“YOU WILL NOT TOUCH HIM, YOU DIRTY FUCKS”.
And how much Eddied had hated himself at this very moment because it was him who was supposed to protect her, not the other way around. He was supposed to be the hero, not a fuckin’ damsel in distress. 
“Earth to Munson? Are you there?” It was her voice who pulled him back to reality.
“Y-Yeah, sorry ‘bout that” He picked the joint from her fingers, feeling the need for a puff “I was just busy thinking… what is the true meaning of William fuckin’ Shakespeare greatest’s work?”
Y/N chuckled, and Eddie knew it was his new favorite sound. She took the joint back, took the last drag before gently pressing it in the ashtray that was laying between them. She mimicked his posture, and they were now face to face, each with an arm laying on the back of the couch and Eddie realized that their hands were so close that, if he wanted, he could graze her fingers without even reaching. 
“Well, Hamlet is… not the happiest dude of Denmark.”
“Understandably.” Eddie assented “I mean, didn’t his mom fucked his uncle and killed his dad?”
“Yeah, yeah she did.” Y/N shot a smile so bright that Eddie mentally thanked his junior self for actually reading the damn play “So, we got this poor kid who, if you want my honest opinion, was already dealing with a lot of shit. But now, he sees his dead father’s ghost and he realizes that everything he thought to be true was a lie.”
“Like discovering that your town sits on the top of another dimension.” Eddie couldn’t help but joking, knowing it would earn him another precious smile, but this time it came accompanied by a giggle.  
“Exactly. Except we have electricity, and you are no Prince of Denmark.” Y/N responded fondly, nestling her face in her hand, resting her elbow on the couch.
“But I am the Prince of Metal, am I not?” He winked and Y/N rolled her eyes
“Shut up Munson, you’re barely a peasant.” But he couldn’t help but notice that she was biting her lips, suppressing another laughter 
“Oh come on Henderson! Don’t tell me you didn’t think that my inter-dimensional rendition of Master of Puppets was out of this world!”
“Yeah, it was-“ she finally admitted
“Aha !”
“-because we were literally in another world, you moron!”
An outbreak of laughter found them as their shared hilarity took over for a few minutes. Eddie couldn’t remember the last time he had laughed so genuinely, so easily. It was not the weed, it couldn’t be. There was something else here, something without a name and Eddie found himself wondering if, perhaps, he had indeed died in the Upside Down and all of this was just a dream. A very nice, extremely pleasant dream.
“Anyway, let’s get back to the Bard!” Y/N exclaimed, clapping her hands
“Wow wow wow, what does Dustin’s D&D character has to do with anything?” Eddie rose an eyebrow while taking a cigarette from the pack that was laying on the ground
“I am not talking about Nog the Noble!” 
Y/N sighed and took the cig from Eddie’s mouth. He would’ve stopped her if it wasn’t for the fact that, contrary to what he had first believed, she did not throw it away like she had done on the boat when Steve was getting ready for his big swim. She simply placed it between her delicate lips and used her hand to signal Eddie that she was waiting for him to light it for her. Which he did, a bit more clumsily than he had wished. But being just a few inches away from her face, along with the fact that she did not tear her eyes away from him as the flame appeared, bathing her in a golden light, that only added to the jitters that he was already feeling. She took a long drag and tilted her head backwards as she slowly exhaled the smoke. The tension that Eddied had been feeling more and more acutely these past minutes was now starting to build up in a very specific part of his body and he looked away.
“You do know that Shakespeare is also known as the Bard, don’t you?”
“Of course I do, I’m not a complete imbecile, contrary to what you obviously believe.”
He didn't intended his words to sound so harsh. A flash of sadness passed into Y/N’s eyes and Eddie cursed himself for it. 
“Well perhaps I wouldn’t take you for a complete imbecile if you didn’t act like one.” She retorted, her voice now cold as ice. “What you did the other day… Fuck Munson, were you even thinking?”
“You mean when I basically saved you and your darling brother from a certain death?” He couldn’t help the words from pouring out of his mouth, despise knowing how wrong they were.
“Oh yeah, because staying behind to play the hero did not put us into danger at all.” She was now standing up, looking at him with her teeth clenched and an anger that made her even more attractive
“Well maybe it wouldn’t have if you two had stayed safe instead of coming back-“
Eddie abruptly rose, walking away from her 
“We came back to save you, you pretentious fuck!” 
“I did not need saving!” He snapped, turning around.
He saw the injuries, crimson patches on her body.
She was hurt. 
She was bleeding.
She was… crying? 
And it was all because of him. 
“How could you be so stupid ?!” She had screamed once the bats had suddenly fallen, a clear indication that Vecna had been defeated. “That was not part of the plan!”
“Y/N…” Dustin had tried to calm her down, but she couldn’t be reasoned “Don’t scream at him, he almost died! For us!”
“And that was completely unnecessary !!!” She was kneeling before him, her hands gripping his shoulders so tightly that Eddie would have winced, where he not already in great pain. “You have no right to do that, Munson! You have no right to decide you wanna be a fuckin’ martyr!”
She would have kept going, yelling at him until her voice went hoarse, if their friends hadn’t stopped her from doing so. Eddie thought that she looked like she was about to kill him herself, and he understood her fury. But what was disconcerting to him was the fact that, more than angry, she had seemed scared. Petrified, even.
But that was just because he had put Dustin’s life in danger by acting so recklessly, right?
She couldn’t be worried for him, could she?
______________________________________________________________
Y/N was fuming. She had come to him to take her mind off everything that had happened and now they were talking about it. No, not talking but quarreling like children. But it was what they did, right? It had always been like that between them, ever since Dustin had joined Hellfire. She would drop her little brother off, share a few cutting remarks with the dungeon master and then pick Dustin up at the end of the session. Eddie would make fun of her for putting so much time and energy into Hawkins High drama club and she would sass back, saying that what they did was like roleplay, except they were all talented at it and the writing was better. Even when they had come together with the rest of the group, in the hopes of defeating Vecna, their feud had carried on. That was their bond. A fragile balance between sarcasm, understanding and a sort of mutual esteem. But they never took it too far, as if they both understood that this equilibrium would be easily shattered if one of them would cross the unspoken line between them. They would jab, but never actually punch. Until today.
“Well you could have said it before then!” Y/N hated how high her voice sounded when she was starting to get emotional but she refused to surrender “So that I would not have bothered to risk my life, and Dustin’s, for you!”
“I risked my life for the both of you!” Eddied hissed, taking a step towards Y/N, who hadn’t realized how close their bodies now were. “I almost died so that Dustin, and you, could get back to your Momma’s house safely!!”
“You were supposed to come back with us, that was the plan!” They were now inches apart and Y/N could feel Eddie’s erratic breath on her face. His eyes, once a warm brown, were now almost black and a small part of her was curious to know if anger was the only emotion that would dilate his pupils that much.
“The plan would have gotten you killed!” His scent was also surrounding her, a blend of cold cigarettes, cheap cologne and something woody that Y/N couldn’t quite name.
“Well not following the plan almost got you killed!” She yelled, the edge of her right fist sharply hitting Eddie in the chest, right where his W.A.S.P. badge was. The pain of the violent contact made her grimace, but she ignored it.
“Lucky for me, Y/N Henderson the Mighty was here to save the day!” Eddie was now provoking her, raising his hands as if he was thanking an invisible deity “But do not lie to me, sweetheart, you and I both know you acted on pure instinct.” In his mouth, as this very moment, the pet name sounded everything but affectionate “I bet you don’t even know why you saved me.”
“You know what, Munson?” The young woman seethed, now gripping his jean vest with both of her hands, fisting the material. “You’re right. I really haven’t the faintest idea on why I risked my life to save your sorry ass, because you can’t even say thank you.”
“How is that for a thank you?!”
Y/N barely had the time to register what Eddie was saying before she felt his lips on hers. The kiss was harsh, brutal, a battle of tongue and teeth, each of them trying to claim dominance over the other. Y/N’s hands found their way into the brunette’s messy mane, her fingers grasping every fiber she possibly could. Eddie wrapped his arms around her, embracing her like he wanted their bodies to melt together and as Y/N urged her frame into Eddie’s, she felt a very distinct bump where his crotch was. The feeling was intoxicating and the crusade restless, neither of the opponents ready to admit defeat. Y/N perceived that the heat that was once spreading on her cheeks was now occurring in a very different component of her anatomy. A familiar sensitivity, that would soon be joined by dampness. And if Y/N was honest with herself, the sensation had lately been caused solely by the very man whose inferior lips she was now biting, earning a growl from him. 
“You’ll have to do much better than that, Munson.” She could barely recognize her own voice, as she parted from him, already drunk on the kiss. She lightly pulled his hair to get a better look at his face – damn, he was really something with pupils so blown that his eyes now appeared almost black and lips already red and slightly swollen, panting as his own hands were now brushing Y/N’s sides. “I saved your stupid life and all you have for me is a kiss?”
“Oh, do not worry, princess.” Eddie’s inflection was dangerously low and Y/N had to repress a moan as she felt his left hand sneak in under the fabric of her shirt, cold rings on burning skin. “This is just the beginning. I don’t think you’re actually ready for what comes next.” His teeth were now grazing the delicate skin of her neck, nibbling and suctioning the soft flesh with lust, his lips mapping a route of delicate bruises.
“I think you’re all bark and no bite, Munson.” Y/N daintily nipped the metalhead’s ear and he growled in response. “I think I should leave and find someone who can actually handle me because I know you can’t.”
“Fuckin” Christ” Eddie snarled, his lips meeting her mouth once again “Don’t you ever shut up ?!”
“Fuckin’ make me.” Y/N spewed, commanding yet also begging. She wanted this, wanted him. There was no point in denying it now, she didn’t came to Eddie Munson for a joint, a night of chit-chat or of shared traumas. She came to him to drop the guard, whatever defenses she had erected around her because, and she was realizing it now, she had been so scared of losing him that she couldn’t bear to keep on living as if he had no effect on her. As if he meant nothing. Because that would have been a lie. A terrible, terrible lie. 
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mangardel · 11 months
Text
I can still smell her perfume
Pairing: Ash lynx x reader
Warnings: none
Songfic for Ash and his ex lover
Song: perfume by lovejoy
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It’s 3:45 (a.m)
And I just bite my tongue
Update me on your life
And how you’ve found the one
A dark blanket was thrown over the sky making a pitch black void. Ash lay wide awake on his back staring up at the blank canvas of his ceiling. His hand on his forehead while hearing your words reverberate in his head.
Every bar had it’s own natural ambience and Ash’s bar had a distinguished aura. The smell of cigarette ash and sweat was thick and heavy as it invaded your senses. It brought back memories even the ones you tried to your utmost ability to forget.
Even as you were holding on to your lover’s hand you couldn’t pretend as though you weren’t hoping to see a certain blonde in the crowd. It had been a year, maybe even two since you decided to end things. You couldn’t say you didn’t miss him but you couldn’t say that Micah didn’t make your heart melt any less. You and your new boyfriend had been together for 4 months already. In these said months you’ve already shown him that you loved every part of him just as you had shown Ash all those years ago. You were falling into quick sand and the more you struggled the deeper you fell.
“Why are we here again Y/n?” Micah asked. His light brown curls fell over his green eyes.
“Because it’s fun and I wanted us to go out tonight.” You smiled at him which was enough to make them zip their mouth and keep following you around like a lost puppy as he had been doing before.
Ash had spotted you before you did him. He walked towards you in an attempt to make sure he wasn’t dreaming. He wanted to call out your name but his words were lodged in his throat but you felt his almost cold gaze nonetheless.
“Ash? Is that you?” You called to him with a smile, trying your hardest to pretend as though you didn’t expect to see him here. All the blonde could mutter out was your name with a soft smile of his own. You both started to slowly walk towards each other. Your arms were held out to give him a hug but instead he tucked his hands into the pockets of his jean jacket inaudibly denying your act of affection and softly smiled. You wiped your hands on your shirt in embarrassment.
“Sooo? What have you been up to?” You tried to make conversation. The tension in the atmosphere could be cut with scissors and the sort of astonished look he was giving you didn’t help a bit.
“Y’know same old, same old. You?” He has so much more to say. He loves you. He misses you. He wants you as his own again. But those words were to be held only in his heart until he could let them out again.
“That’s great and I’m great actually, I finally got that new apartment you know I’ve been looking at for forever and things are going great at the hospi-“ Your sentence was cut off as you felt a hands on your waist.
“Hey babe I’m back, who’s this?” You hadn’t even realized Micah had disappeared into the crowd nor did you know where he went off to or that your hand felt empty and light.
“Babe this is my friend Ash, Ash this is my boyfriend Micah.” You smiled sheepishly, almost embarrassed. You calling Ash a friend stung him in the chest and the mere thought that you were taking pride in calling someone else besides him your significant other only set his heart on fire. The flame was small but it burned like hell.
Micah reached out his hand to shake Ash’s with a smile oblivious to the other man’s growing hatred and envy for him.
But I don’t like his eyes
And I distrust their name
And I hate their haircut
They look like a prick (a prick)
The blonde kissed his teeth not realizing that he has barely said anything at all the entire conversation.
“Well,” you said clapping your hands together with that pretty little smile of yours “why don’t we all grab a drink and you two can get to know each other a bit more.” You looked between the two males while one was returning your smile the other was shooting a glare and if looks could kill your little boyfriend would’ve been dead long ago.
But it's all the same
Would be daft of me to cry
Your tongue is razor sharp
I miss when it would fight mine
He needed to talk to you alone. Try to find a way to get you to dump that prick in less than an hour. He want- no he needed you back. He needed you back and he’d do anything to have you.
The blonde rested his elbow on the bar holding his head in his hand and swirling his drink around in it’s glass. All he could do was channel through your memories together. Every laugh, every cry, every intimate moment where you’d lay your naked body on top of his and let him draw circles on your back as you both slowly passed out from exhaustion. He needed you.
Every single day after you left all he could and would ever do was think about you and now you were right in front of him and he didn’t know what to say. He needed you?
He even missed when you guys would fight. It sounds crazy but even when you hated his guts he still loved and adored every part of you. He let you yell at him for however long you needed to, whatever made you feel better and whatever put you back in his arms the quickest. He needed you.
He missed that sharp tongue of yours, something you both had in common. Every snarky remark you made, he had one waiting for you in return. But even so, all he could do now was listen to you speak and wish that you would look at him how you looked at Mitch or whatever his name was again.
Two hours had gone by. The coke he had in his cup had formed a dark whirlpool from where he’d been spinning it around. He only wished it could grow in size and swallow him whole.
Left your heart on standby
By the way he holds you
Bet he serenades you
I can't really blame you
You had went off to the bathroom, leaving an empty seat between the two males. Ash held a fierce scowl, while Micah awkwardly looked back and forth towards the floor, Ash, and the bathroom door.
“So,” he finally began, putting his drink down on the wooden counter “where did you two meet?”
“Oh it’s a long story…” Micah began but he was drowned out.
Now, did Ash really give two shits? No. But did he at least have to pretend that he liked this guy? Yes.
By the looks of it, you hadn’t even told your little boy toy about you and Ash’s (past) relationship. Either that or that man has not one jealous bone in his body but that was presumed already by the fact that he even let you talk to Ash for so long.
When you two were still together he was suspicious of every male that even breathed in your general direction. He knew he treated you so much better than this motherfucker, even if he didn’t always treat you how you deserved.
You were wearing the perfume he liked. How could he tell? He could smell it on your little lapdog here.
And I can still smell her perfume
Did it rub off on you?
And I can still smell her perfume
Did it rub off on you?
You had finally returned.
“Sorry bout that, there was a line. You ready to go baby?” And with that Micah hopped off his stool.
Baby? You gotta be fucking with him at this point.
“Well it was nice seeing you again Ash, but we’re gonna head out. I hope to see you around.” You said as you grabbed your car keys off the counter, leaving money to pay for the drinks.
“Yeah, it was nice seeing you too” he put on a fake smile. He had to pat himself on the back for upholding his facade even after watching Micah snake an arm around your waist. That was his spot.
You gave him a tight hug which he returned adding an extra squeeze of his own and then just like that you were gone again.
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canirove · 1 year
Text
Best friends… forever? | Chapter 8
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When Mila wakes up, it takes her a moment to realize that she isn’t on her room, that she’s on Rúben's. That what happened last night, what they did... It was all real.
"Fuck" she says after making sure she is alone in the room, burying her face on the pillow. "Fuck, fuck, fuck."
Why did they do this? Why did they allow it? Why didn't she stop him?
"Because you didn't want him to stop" a voice says in her head.
"No" she says aloud, sitting on the bed. "This is a mistake. A huge mistake."
And that probably is the reason why Rúben is gone. He can't face her anymore and has run away, trying to avoid her for as long as he can. Because by not stopping him last night, she’s ruined their friendship.
"But he didn't want you to stop him. He wanted it" that voice says again.
"No!" Mila says again, getting out of bed and looking for some clothes to wear and finding nothing. When she made it to his room, she wasn't wearing any, so one of his t-shirts will have to do.
As she moves towards his closet, Mila sees something familiar on a chair. Her clothes. The ones she usually wears around the house. Did he leave them there for her?
"Aww, isn't that cute?" that voice says again.
"Shut up" she says aloud, picking up the clothes and leaving for the bathroom.
━━━━━━❃━━━━━━
"Hello, you."
"Holy shit, Rúben!" Mila says, letting the shower's head fall, making a horrible noise. "What are you doing here?"
"Checking on you."
"Inside the shower? And naked?" she asks, not daring to look below his bellybutton.
"I couldn't come in wearing my clothes, they would get ruined" he shrugs.
"You could have waited outside until I was finished."
"But I was worried about you. I heard you talking to yourself and then slamming the door. I thought something may have happened."
“Yes, that I'm going crazy” Mila says to herself.
"I'm fine, I just woke up grumpy."
"Were you missing me? I was making breakfast" Rúben smiles.
"It had nothing to do with you. You know that I get grumpy when I'm tired."
"It may have had to do with me, tho. What time was it when we finally stopped?" he smirks.
"Around 4 a.m.? Maybe it was almost 5" the voice in her head says.
"I have no idea. Now if you'll excuse me" she says, turning her back at him and trying to hide that her cheeks must be as red as her United shirt.
"I can help you shower, wash your hair..." he says, taking a step closer.
"I don't need help, thank you."
"Are you sure?" he says, picking the shower's head from the floor and putting it back in place, his body very close to hers. Very, close.
"Very sure" Mila gulps.
"Really sure?" he asks, kissing her shoulder.
"Rúben..."
"What?" he says, moving to kiss her neck, his hands on her hips.
"We can't do this."
"We've already done it" he says, one of his hands slowly moving down.
"We can't do it again" she says, her body tensing under his touch, his kisses.
"Why not?"
"Because... Because it will ruin it all" Mila says, taking both his hands on hers and making him stop. "Us. Our friendship."
"You don't know that."
"Yes, I do" she says, turning around to look at Rúben. But turns out to be a huge mistake, because he is looking at her in a way that he had never before. Like he was about to devour her. Destroy her. Ruin her like people write on this Instagram comments. And she'll probably be asking for more, for him to do it again and again. Which is exactly what happens.
━━━━━━❃━━━━━━
"It can't happen again. I'm serious, Rúben."
"But why not?"
"Because it will ruin it all! How many times do I have to say it?" Mila says, getting up from the table.
After finally being able to keep their hands from each other, they are eating something that also isn't the other, Mila trying to make Rúben see that what happened last night and this morning, is a mistake.
"I don't think it will ruin it all. We clearly feel something for each other that goes beyond friendship" Rúben says.
"Something like what?"
"I don't know yet. But there is something, and you know it."
"You know it" the voice repeats.
"No. No, no, no."
"Why are you so stubborn?"
"Why are you so stubborn? Did Bruno get into your head or something?"
"He didn't. But maybe he's been right all alone."
"Oh, c'mon" Mila says, rolling her eyes.
"I'm being serious. I think our feelings for each other have changed for some reason, but we've ignored it because, like you say, we are scared of ruining what we already have. But then, as the end of the season came closer and having to kiss became something more and more real, ignoring it has become more difficult, and we’ve made it to a point where it's been impossible to keep lying to ourselves, all that leading to this. Listen, Mila” Rúben says, getting up from his seat and moving to where she is, taking her hands on his. "I know you probably are terrified right now. I know I am. But we could give this a go, see where it takes us. No labels of any kind. Just enjoy the summer together and see what happens."
"And what if what happens is that we ruin it all?" she says, looking at their hands.
"Then we'll find a way to fix it. Together."
"When did you think of all of this? When did you realize that this was what you wanted?"
"This morning while you were sleeping" he chuckles, one of his hands moving to her chin, lifting her face and making her look at him. "Let's give it a chance. We may regret it our whole lives if we don't do it."
"Can I think about it a bit more?" Mila asks.
"Of course you can" he says before kissing her cheek, something he had done many times before, and that she herself had done too. It was normal between them. But this time it felt different. This time, her stomach did funny things when she felt his lips on her skin.
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alrightbuckaroo · 3 days
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Fic Pride Friday
Happy Friday, everyone! I missed this last week so I thought I'd make up for it this week! I don't have in me to go through 40+ works as of late, so I just pulled some from my long form work. Thanks to @carlos-in-glasses, @vineofroses, @bonheur-cafe and @literateowl for the tags!
Rules: Post your favorite line or passage from as many of your published works as you’d like. Let yourself feel proud of your creations! Tag as many people as you post snippets, so your fellow fic friends can be proud, too.
tender eyes that shine:
TK’s thrusts are in rapid succession; the only thing keeping up with the rhythm is Carlos’ heartbeat. It’s as if TK, right now, in this moment, is a lifeline that Carlos is tethered to that’s born out of nothing more desirous longing and trust.
TK calls him “Baby” and the last thing Carlos thinks is that he can only hope Heaven will be half as sweet as the way that word sounds rolling off of TK’s tongue. Suddenly, the darkness that’s gripped him seems to ease itself. Darkness ebbs away as the light becomes something more tangible, something just out of reach. He opens his eyes, and he sees both TK and his father. Carlos isn’t sure if he’s been brought back from death or if he’s been left to his own devices in Heaven. He’s always thought that TK has the beauty of an angel that’s come down to Earth, one that’s replaced his halo with a fireman’s cap. When he sees his father standing above him, it comes as no surprise. Carlos has always considered him to be a martyr, fighting the good fight until the very end. With the warm golden hue surrounding the both of them, he thinks this must be the highest the sky can go.
summer slipped us underneath her tongue:
TK leans down, causing a dip in the bed as he leans in to give Carlos a kiss. He tastes like last night’s raspberry tart and all of Carlos’ dreams come true. He pulls away and says, “I’ll be back before you have the chance to miss me.”  Carlos smiles, his face still cupped between TK’s hands.  “It’s hard not to miss you. I love having you around.” There’s that word again: love.  Love is a word that’s always tossed around casually, even by them; but the way it sounds rolling off of Carlos’ tongue causes TK’s heart to skip a beat. As if it’s a rock being thrown across a once still pond.  Ever since TK realized that this, this thing with Carlos is no longer casual but something very real; the word love has hit his ear differently each and every time. He loves Carlos, and all he wants to do is tell him. 
Carlos is spiraling well beyond his control. He’s trying to piece where he went wrong but then TK is grabbing his hand and saying his name like it’s the only word he’s ever know.
29 Going on 30
TK’s a little disheartened at the realization. He used to know this city like the back of his hand; now he feels like he’s wearing a glove.
“I think that part of living life is finding new ways to left love in,” Carlos continues. “Learning that love can be an afternoon serenade, a hideous sweater that you still found a way to look good in or the realization that the love that feels too good to be true is the love that you’ve been deserving of all along.” TK is quiet for a beat; a medley of mixed emotions overtaking him. Love that feels too good to be true is the love that you’ve been deserving of all along. Maybe Carlos is right, maybe he needs to let himself finally feel comfortable with the idea that this type of love isn’t meant to crumble. He won’t have to dig through the remains of what’s left to restore himself. This love has a foundation that’s meant to last. Quietly, he asks, “You still think I’m a dream?” “So much I almost can’t believe my eyes,” Carlos replies with a smile. “You deserve an everlasting love, Tyler,” The words are a declaration, a phrase that gives no room for argument. “I’ll always be here, wanting to be the one that gives it to you.”
come and take a walk on the wild side
It’s 4:02 a.m. and TK is standing on the balcony, smoking a cigarette. For the most part, the party has thinned out except for a couple of stragglers and those that had decided to spend the night. He holds the phone close to his ear; hearing the other line ring, once, twice, three times. He’s about the end the call before it can even start when a voice answers on the other line. “Hello?” The voice sounds groggy, and aged. TK still recognizes it all the same. TK doesn’t respond, feeling the words anxious to grab purchase. “Hello? Is anyone there?” TK doesn’t reply, and it’s not soon before the person on the other line hangs up. He brings the phone down, and whispers to himself, “Happy Father’s Day, dad.”
“I’d ask you to save the attitude for dinner, but,” Sam finally breaks eye contact, looking back down at his phone, knowing he’s about to win this back and forth between them. “We both know you’ll hold me to that.” TK hears the unspoken command: knock it off. He knows he should, just make the rest of the night easier for both of them; but there’s something in him that wants to fight against that feeling. Relieve himself of the weight that he’s holding for both of them. “Yeah? And give your dad another reason to hate everything about me?” TK decides not to think about the fact Winston brings out the worst in both of them. Sam doesn’t look up from his phone, wanting to treat TK’s response like it’s nothing but a low brow tactic. “He doesn’t hate everything about you.” TK snorts. “Oh yeah? What doesn’t he hate?” Sam looks up from his phone and stares directly at TK, giving him his undivided attention. His words drip with a scathing sense of frustration, “The way you know how to get under my skin.”
I'm a week late to this so I'm sure everyone has already gone, but if you haven't and want to share, consider this open tag for you :)
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thomas-life · 8 months
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I wrote and @drksanctuary drew the chapter image for my Fluffy Coffee Shop AU Oneshot. its just short and cute. i hope you enjoy!
 A Nicobaster Coffee Shop AU with notes of ReyRae.
Hazel opens up a coffee shop and Nico is helping her out by working at it while she is still hiring staff. He meets the local union rep Alabaster Torrington...
Hidden Gem Cafe
“Well don’t you look chipper.”
Nico huffs and glares in the direction of one Rachel Elizabeth Dare.  She looks entirely too well put together with her red curls in a pony tail and black apron around her waist. The coffee shop door clinks closed behind him and he locks it. They don’t open for another 30 minutes.
“Some of us,” Nico replies, “aren’t born to be Baristas.”
Rachel snorts at his attempt at insulting her. “You’re just grumpy because you’re used to waking up at noon, and we both know it.” She pats his shoulder sympathetically as he passes. “You really will do anything for your sisters.”
Nico grunts. The clock on the break room wall reads 4:30 a.m.
Who in their right mind would ever willingly be up this early in the morning for coffee?  He emerges with his apron tied around his hips and eyeliner applied in hopes that the bags under his eyes don’t show too starkly. Rachel is preparing the drip coffee canisters and Nico starts on the pastry display case.  He’s a little surprised that Hazel hasn’t show up, but according to his text string she had barely managed to get to bed around 2 am, anxious as she was for the Hidden Gem Café’s Grand Opening. 
Nico opens the doors right on time, Rachel humming behind the counter. He can’t help but yawn. “Why are you like this.” He deadpans. He has no energy in his entire body and she laughs at him.
“The trick,” she side whispers like it’s some big secret, “ –is that I never went to sleep in the first place!” She sing songs the rest, and Nico can’t help but realize…Rachel is delusional.
He groans and makes a cup of coffee with creamer and four sugars. He might as well take advantage, and coffee really is mostly a way he uses to get sugar into his system. He takes a large swig as the door chimes and Hazel’s first ever customer enters.
The man that enters is tall and looks a little frantic. Nico tries to smile but it doesn’t come naturally, so he settles on a bemused expression as the man approaches the counter, his dress shoes clicking along the vinyl flooring. “Hey,” Nico wonders if that was too casual of a greeting but proceeds, as it’s too early to be self-conscious. “What can I get you?” The man’s squinting at the menu on the wall behind the counter, freckles scrunching on his nose; He seems almost startled to be addressed at all.
“Oh- ah,” He clears his throat looking vaguely apologetic and he ruffles his light brown hair. “Do you sell large travel containers of coffee?”
Nico nods, “We’re not busy, so we can make you one, but it will take some time. It’s $30 plus tax.”
The man brightens, “Perfect. I’ll also get a small coffee and…” he looks at the pastry display case, “One of those lemon poppy seed muffins.” A smile flashes across his face and Nico can’t help but think the man is handsome.
“You got it.” Nico winks at him, and blames it on how sleep deprived he is; he can feel the sugar and caffeine starting to work through his blood stream,  “Name for the order?”
“Alabaster.”
Alabaster sounds a little strained…Maybe I shouldn’t have winked at him. Nico thinks as he writes the name on a small cup. He looks up to see Alabaster blushing and holding his hand against the bottom half of his face. Or maybe I should do it again… Nico reconsiders, his mood sufficiently boosted. He fills the small cup himself since Rachel is working on the traveler and grabs the muffin as Alabaster inserts his credit card to pay. He looks at the other pastries in the case and grabs a cookie.
He hands both over to Alabaster. “Here’s something sweet... For being our first customer at our Grand Opening.”
Alabaster flushes again and takes them. “Thank you. I do appreciate you accommodating me.”
“Anytime.” Nico responds; This time the smile comes easily. “Enjoy your coffee. You’re traveler will be ready in a couple minutes.”
Alabaster nods and settles down at a table, taking his traveler when it’s finished, waving at Nico as he leaves.
Nico hopes he comes again.
-------
“You’re telling me you fell in love at first sight with a barista, and now you go two cities over every Monday morning just to see him?” Reyna sounds incredulous and when she says it like that, Alabaster can’t help but agree. It does sound ridiculous.
“-And the Coffee!” he rushes to justify. “Not just the Barista, Reyna. The coffee too. There’s a reason it’s called Hidden Gem- And it wasn’t at first sight!” he defends himself.
Reyna scoffs at him as they get out of the car. It’s a rare Friday off and he had insisted they come to this location for coffee. Reyna won’t deny she’s intrigued, and she’s not actually all that bothered. It’s not every day she gets to tease Alabaster C. Torrington about having a crush.
It didn't hurt that and he’d brought her some of their coffee a couple weeks ago. It really was much better than any of the popular chains they had around the office. She can’t help but tease a little more. “So when are you going to actually ask him on a date?”
Alabaster looks at her, a scandalized expression on his face. “Ask him out? While he’s at work??” His tone drips with derision, “ oh yes, that what everyone wants. For some random customer to ask them out on a date while their just working their shift.”
Reyna laughs and elbows him. “I thought you said he was flirting with you .”
Alabaster puffs out one cheek, “I believe I said I wasn’t sure if he was flirting with me. And I don’t want to be a creep. Or make him feel uncomfortable. Or ruin everything. What if I can never come back to his place because I fucked it all up?! That would be the absolute worst…” He looks regretful, “I’d have to go back to regular coffee and we both know that would be awful. I’m too pampered now.”
Reyna opens the door to Hidden Gem Café. The place is nice; plenty of space seating with personal touches that make the space welcoming and homey. There’s a mural on the wall next to the seating area she can’t help but admire. It really would be a terrible loss if Alabaster could never come here again.
A man’s voice greets them as they approach the counter, and Reyna can see why Alabaster, their number one union organizer, who has nerves of steel when negotiating with greedy executives, has been acting like a teenager: Dark hair and eyes, muscled forearms, eyeliner and earrings…just Alabaster’s type.  He keeps glancing at her with a subtly perturbed expression, and it takes her a moment to realize- she smirks. That is crestfallen expression someone that thinks we are dating.
She nudges Alabaster, hoping he will take her hint, but he’s too engrossed in chatting with Nico to notice to subtle signs of distress. She’s almost worried Nico will get the wrong idea.
Nico gestures to her, looking at Alabaster with intensity. “Is she you’re girlfriend?”
Alabaster almost chokes on his own saliva as he’s in such a rush to say ‘No’.  “Absolutely. Not.” Alabaster confirms.
Reyna likes straightforward people, and she likes Nico even more for his blunt attitude. That will save them a lot of drama down the road.  “We’re just friends.” She seconds, “And besides, you’re co-worker is more my type anyway.” She smiles winningly at the red-head behind the counter who grins back at her and gestures to Nico and Alabaster with a shrug that communicated “what can you do?”
Reyna moves to the side, waiting at the pickup counter for their coffee order. Rachel approaches with two drinks and hands them to her. “Were you serious about me being your type?” she asks, looking honestly curious, “-because I’m available.”
Alabaster chuckles nervously as Reyna walks away and looks back at Nico who appears relieved. He hopes he isn’t reading too much into that. “Honestly. She’s just a good friend.”
Nico nods, and rings up their order, debating if he should ask… more. It’s been a while since they first met, and Nico always gets butterflies on the days when Alabaster comes in. “You know,” he starts, and decides to barrel on with it, “I get off shift today in an hour … are you free after that? I know a good Italian place that serves a really good lunch menu.” He hears Alabaster audibly take a breath. “Yes!” Alabaster’s voice can be heard very clearly over the background noise of people and music. “ah- I mean. Yes.” He returns to a normal volume, “I would love…that.” He can’t stop grinning from ear to ear. “I would really really like that.”
The End
@them-awesome-rarepairs
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vxmpjules · 2 years
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💐💖Precious Soul💖💐
A fanfic where Bruce and Vance like the reader ヾ(⌐■_■)ノ♪
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Chapter 1/?
⬇️ down here are the other chapters if i do make more ;)
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
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You woke up as you looked at your calendar a bright ‘X’ was marked on this day with a little writing on the box marking the day ‘’Bruce’s game!!’ was written in bright red marker.
‘shit I almost forgot about Bruce's game today’ your eyes widen and you quickly turn your head to look at your small light navy blue clock at the side of your bed ‘10:26 a.m.’ you read. your calmed down and got up your bed to go to the bathroom and prepare yourself for the day.
you finish getting prepared and go to the kitchen, you look down to see a note on the counter ‘make yourself some cereal I wont be back till 9.p.m, make yourself the canned food in the top cabinet P.S here's a dollar to get yourself some popcorn at your friends game. Be safe -love, mom’ you read. you take the dollar your mom left you and shove it into your pocket and make yourself some cereal. You finish eating and watch some tv to pass time.
time skip 
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You turn off the tv and exit your house you stand outside deciding on where you should go.  ‘ill go to the grab ‘n go Vance is probably there ill just talk to him while the time passes’ you think. you start walking to the grab ‘n go since it wasn't so far from your house.
you open the the store door and enter you look to your side where the pinball machine is and to no surprise you see fluffy blonde hair belonging to no other than famous ‘Pinball Vance’ you smile softly to yourself seeing the entranced state your friend was in, you start walking over to the boy.
‘this dude really is gonna marry that machine one day’ you thought to yourself ‘’hey Vance’’  you greet the boy with a small wave ‘‘Shut up for a minute ill loose my score’‘ you roll your eyes playfully and chuckle to yourself, this was both of yours usual greetings.
you paste your eyes to look at the score going up by every second passing DING you see Vance's score in the game 100,000 ‘’Holy shit.’’ you say as your eyes widen you look over to Vance with the biggest smirk in the world ‘’you really beat your own score, huh?’’ you comment to Vance ‘’Of course I fuckin’ did I'm the best goddamn person at this’’ Vance cockily remarked with his smirk
‘‘give me five?’‘ you asked in celebration if his new high score. You held your hand up waiting for Vance's high five, Vance looks at your hands and back at your eyes, he give you high five in a proud manner looking at you in the eyes with a small smile as you smile at him too.
you decide to pass your time with Vance until its 5p.m 
time skip 
You made your way to Donna with your small popcorn bag in hand ‘’Hey Donna’’ you greet her with a smile. ‘’Hello Y/N how are you?’’ your friend asked with a light smile ‘’I'm doing good, who you rooting for?’’ you asked Donna seeing her eyeing the pitcher from the front range team, Finnie was his name? ‘’Mhmmm Little Donna has a crush on the pitcher?’’ you mention playfully ‘’oh dream on’’ Donna remarked and playfully rolled her eyes with a smile ‘’oh c’mon dont you realize you're looking at him with heart eyes, you both are gonna become the next lovebugs ill tell you I said so when it becomes the skinny’’ you remarked back laughing at Donnas flustered face.
The game had started now your eyes where focused on Bruce’s figure. Bruce steadied himself and lifted his baseball bat. the pitcher throws the ball but Bruce misses it ‘’STRIKE’’ ’you can do it Bruce’ you said in your mind. Bruce went back to the base again and looked around with a embarrassed expression, his view moved to you and it managed to make this mood lighten up a little he softly smiled at you and steadied himself again. The pitcher threw the ball and Bruce almost hit it but he sadly missed the ball ‘’SECOND STRIKE!’’. You furrowed your brows crossing your fingers he could make a homerun. he looked at the ground with the same expression as before, he went back to the base and steadied himself once again, he stood with confidence ready to hit the ball.
The pitcher once again threw the ball and Bruce finally hit it ‘’WOOOOO!’’ you cheered for Bruce as he made a homerun. he threw his bat and runed across the bases. as everyone finished cheering everyone one by on kept leaving, you stood there waiting till’ Bruce finished with the ‘good game thing’ you didn't know how it was called but whatever. you looked at him as he went to tell the pitcher something when he finished he looked back and saw you, he quickly runed to you.
‘‘Bruce! you did amazing!’‘ you complimented him ‘‘Thanks Y/N also thanks for coming too i really appreciate it’‘ he said with a light smile and his hand on his neck ‘‘No problem, You’re my friend afterall, you're really gonna be a casanova after this!’‘ you complimented again ‘‘Heh yeah....’‘ he chuckled softly ‘‘hey maybe you wanna go see a movie next Friday or something?’‘ he shyly asked ‘‘for sure but i gotta see if i have any gigs ill let you know, ok?’‘ you answered ‘‘ok thats fine, if you cant Friday maybe we can go another day of the next weekend if you're free’‘ he smiled.
‘‘sounds like a plan!’‘ you said and smiled at him ‘‘well I've got to go back home and make myself something to eat I'm hungry since donna ate most of my popcorns’’ you remarked as you chuckled ‘’oh, okay, well see you at school’’ Bruce says ‘‘peace out!’‘ you said your farewell while walking away to your house. ‘’Call me when you get to your house!’’ Bruce shouted at you smiling, ‘’okayy!!’’ you answered. 
end of chapter
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hollygl125 · 18 days
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yo umm i was wondering and couldn't find on google so i think you could help me
the shifts in csi (like day shift, graveyard shift etc) are around which times?
Hello, lovely anon,
First of all, my sincere apologies for not having responded to your query in a timely (or, you know, remotely helpful) manner. Not as an excuse, but as an attempt at an explanation, I will tell you that I have been kind of a disaster person lately (much more so than indicated in the linked post, and even much more so this past fall than now) and don’t always have a ton of control over where my mind chooses to focus.
I should also acknowledge that, while I carried out my fall 2021 CSI rewatch (when I didn’t realize I was subsequently going to care about any of these details) with sort of rapt attention, in my (yes, many) subsequent rewatches I have often skipped scenes or storylines that don’t really interest me (e.g., where neither Sara Sidle nor Gil Grissom is anywhere to be found), and I am almost always doing two or three things at once while watching. So it’s certainly more than possible I have missed some non-GSR details in there.
In response to your question, the two things I can tell you with certainty are these:
The CSIs of CSI have three shifts: day shift, swing shift, and night/graveyard shift (this last being what the lead characters of CSI are generally working). Logic would dictate that, with three shifts and 24 hours in a day, the shifts most likely start (and end) eight hours apart. (I will not, however, state that logic necessarily dictates that the shifts each be eight hours, and I will discuss that more below.)
At the end of “Mea Culpa” (05x09), after Warrick, Nick, and Catherine are transferred from night/graveyard shift to swing shift, Warrick tells Grissom, “Well, I got to get some rest. Swing shift starts at four in the afternoon. That’s a big change.”
Based on the above (and what I will discuss below), the best answer I can give is that the shifts should start at the following times (and end approximately, though not necessarily exactly, eight hours later):
Day shift: 8:00 a.m.
Swing shift: 4:00 p.m.
Night/graveyard shift: 12:00 a.m. (midnight).
(I will also note some contradictory information below the cut, although I don’t know the source of that information.)
But the other thing I will note (and for which I will give some possibly excessive examples below the cut) is that CSI does a pretty terrible job of keeping track of these kind of workplace logistics. You might have thought the writers and showrunners of what was for a time the most popular scripted TV show in the world (or something like that) would have added a few notes to their show bible about workplace logistics (shift times, scheduling, etc.) but . . . nope, not in any way that is apparent to me! (I find wanting to write a story that is compatible with the internal logic of the show and finding there really is no internal logic of the show to be terribly frustrating.)
Shift times:
Okay, to be honest, the first place I looked for an answer to your query was in @addictedtostorytelling’s wonderful meta, both because she is an expert in (among many other things!) these finer details (e.g., dates on documents shown in the show) and because I was pretty sure I had seen a post from her that addressed shift times.
The only post I could find on the topic was this one, in which the asker states that “we know there are 3 csi shifts: day (7am to 3pm), swing (3pm to 11pm) and night (11pm to 7am).” I don’t know the source of information for that statement. (If anyone else knows, I’d be most grateful if you shared in the comments, so I can update this post!) Honestly, it’s more than possible that CSI has given contradictory information on this subject. But the one place I personally know of a shift start time being given in the show is in Warrick’s statement quoted above.
I also did a general google search on shift times (not specific to CSI or even real-world CSI-type employees). The most common answers I saw were days = 8:00 (or 7:00) a.m. to 4:00 (or 3:00) p.m., swing = 4:00 (or 3:00) p.m. to 12:00 a.m. (or 11:00 p.m.), night/graveyard = 12:00 a.m. (or 11:00 p.m.) to 8:00 (or 7:00) a.m.
In this post on Talk CSI, you can see people trying to answer your question way back in 2006, when the show was airing. One board member there noted that their (forensic, as I understand it) agency had three ten-hour shifts (with two hours of overlap at each end). Another noted that, where they worked (also apparently in the forensic context), the shifts were “12:30 to 8:30, 8:30 to 4:30 and 4:30 to 12:30 working 8 hour shifts.” @figsr kindly advised me that in her (non-forensic) experience shifts would have a half-hour overlap for handover.
I have no personal experience with this, but to me also just logically it would make sense for these shifts to have some sort of overlap for handover—so that, e.g., one team can be dealing with their beginning of shift housekeeping (shifts, assignments, memos from upper management, etc.) while the other is still primarily responsible for calls to the field.
Anyway, based on the above, I can’t give a conclusion on exactly how long the shifts are/when they end. But, as for when the shifts start, my best answer is as given at the top.
The other thing I should probably note here is that the CSIs of CSI do not stop working just because their shifts have ended; when they are in the middle of something that needs to be addressed in a timely manner, they tend to keep going, and they seem to work a lot of double shifts. They also apparently help out other shifts sometimes when necessary. (You’ll note that we see them working during the day a lot, but I don’t know how much of that can be attributed to the issue I discuss below.)
Shift times + scheduling + lack of internal logic (i.e., WTF, CSI?!):
As @addictedtostorytelling discusses in the meta I linked above (which I highly recommend reading, if you’re interested in this topic!), CSI doesn’t make much effort to depict the characters’ work schedules in any sort of realistic way, and drawing inferences about the logistics of the their work schedules is kind of a crapshoot.
Here are a few examples of CSI seeming to ignore its own shift times:
In 01x10, Sara’s asleep with her head on the table in the break room. It’s daylight (looks like morning). She wakes up as the kettle starts whistling. Grissom asks, “Did you sleep here?” Sara responds, “I was working till 4:00 a.m.” —> 4:00 a.m. should be their lunch time. None of this makes any sense.
In 07x08, Sara spends her day waiting to testify in court; they never get to her. Afterwards she goes to talk to Grissom in his office; based on the foregoing it must be late afternoon (maybe around 4:30-5:00 p.m.). Grissom has been working on that episode’s case and must have been on shift since at least the night before. He’s now sitting there reading Thoreau, and she tells him, “I won’t wait up.” —> I know he’s traditionally been a workaholic, and maybe they both have the night off, but it always strikes me as odd (and maybe a bit irresponsible?) that he’s still not heading home, given how long he must have been up and the fact that their usual shift time is in probably close to seven hours (and I always imagine him, as supervisor, arriving early).
At the end of 07x18, the TV reporter says that the suspect confessed earlier that day to the murders of the six showgirls. (The TV newscast is supposedly live, and it’s dark outside where the reporter is. He also states, “The families have organized a candlelight vigil that will begin here tonight.”) Grissom brushes a tear off Sara’s cheek then walks her out of the lab with his arm around her/hand on her back. The hallway has dim lighting and is empty aside from someone (not Natalie Davis!) mopping the floors. It’s giving very “end of the day so the lab’s deserted” vibes. —> But it’s literally never the end of the day there! They work the night shift, and the lab is always humming!
Similarly, in CSIV 1x05, Sara and then Grissom as well (“the matched set”) run into their suspect (Martin Kline) while leaving what is very specifically (i.e., with several establishing shots) shown to be a dark and empty lab. (Like, it’s clearly supposed to feel creepy when Kline first confronts Sara and she’s all alone.) —> But, again, the original CSI showed us that place was never dark and empty! It was always humming!
In 08x01, the security guard at the parking lot from which Sara was abducted says that Sara “eats at the veggie place downstairs a couple times a week.” When Catherine asks when she was there that night, he says, “I don’t know, like 7:30, maybe. That’s when she usually comes.” —> Sara eating at 7:30 p.m. is like someone who works a 9-5 job eating at about 4:30 a.m. (I also feel like their working hours are so erratic that, if she were able to pull off anything regular a couple times per week, it would be something regular she could do with Grissom—like maybe sitting down to a nice relaxed home-cooked rather than take-out meal twice per week.)
Shift times aren’t the only issue, though.
In 02x15, for example, Sara’s “Request for Leave of Absence” form states that her work week is “Tue - Sat grave.” Now, I don’t pay much heed to the CSI props department. (They did give us these nonsensical ID cards, after all.) But this would make a lot of sense to me—the CSIs all having a staggered work week, with two regular, consecutive scheduled days off each. Only . . . we don’t ever really see anything like that?
At the end of 03x22, Sara notes that the schedule says Grissom has the night off, and, when he confirms, she then adds, “Me, too.” It certainly doesn’t sound like this is a regular (weekly) occurrence. But in truth I can’t remember ever actually seeing two of our CSIs have the night off together. We almost never see them having a night off at all. Even in 03x03, when we are told Sara had the night off, it’s in the context of Grissom having called her in to work.
(I think there are a very small number of examples of one of the CSIs actually having a night off—e.g., in 03x09, Catherine has a couple days off but stops by the lab to pick something up for Lindsey’s birthday.)
Admittedly, I get this one, because of course the showrunners want for the most part for the whole cast (especially its major players, the CSIs) to be onscreen throughout every episode. So the subject of days off would have to be fudged. But it strikes me as funny that, in 04x12, when Nick is absent for the entire episode, they don’t take the opportunity to show someone having their regular days off; instead, Sara tells us he’s at the “American Academy of Forensic Science convention” (even though it’s about a month early for the AAFS conference).
Another matter that makes no logistical sense to me is the staffing changes that go on during and immediately after season 05.
In the pilot, the graveyard shift is five CSIs (including Holly Gribbs) plus Brass, who presumably does a lot of paperwork. Then Sara takes Holly’s spot and Brass is transferred out, so it’s just five very qualified CSIs (and no wonder Grissom is always behind on his paperwork, with Brass gone).
By season 5, graveyard shift is up to five and a half CSIs, basically, with Greg’s inclusion as a CSI-in-training. Then Ecklie decides to mix things up (i.e., punish Grissom and his pals), and he splits them into two shifts, adding only Sofia (to the graveyard shift). So then graveyard has three and a half CSIs (four once Greg makes CSI I), and swing shift has three CSIs. In 05x11, Ecklie acknowledges swing shift is short a couple bodies and blames budget constraints. But, if swing shift is short a couple bodies, graveyard shift must be short a body, too, even once Greg makes CSI I. How can budget constraints suddenly necessitate them being down that many bodies—especially when by season six Ecklie can somehow justify letting them now have six full CSIs on graveyard shift? Also, we know the swing shift supervisor was transferred to days to replace Ecklie, but what happened to the rest of the previous swing shift?
Now, my petty headcanon would be that the entire day shift save for Sofia quits when Ecklie gets promoted because the thought of him as assistant lab director is unbearable to them, as a result of which he moves the entire swing shift to days and pretends the staff shortages are due to budget cuts. But I find it kind of funny (again!) that, during the fifth season, when CSI really was on top of the world (e.g., ratings, cast winning the SAG award, Tarantino directing “Grave Danger”), the showrunners couldn’t at least have found a couple warm bodies to show up occasionally to round out the swing shift (even if Ecklie was punishing Grissom and his shift by leaving the graveyard shift understaffed). (In 05x16, Catherine is shown talking to three randoms in “forensics” coveralls, one of whom calls her “boss,” but no explanation is given as to who they are, and I think that’s the most we ever see in that regard.)
Anyway, thank you so much for your question, and my apologies for rambling with some of my CSI logistics grievances. My best answer to your question is as given at the top. If you should have another question, please feel free to send it my way—barring any acts of God, etc. (unforeseeable future events), I will most almost certainly be able to manage a more prompt response!
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justabooknerdposts · 1 year
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Meeting Estelle
Prompt 6: Can you do one where Percy and Annabeth meet Estelle for the first time, which prompts them to both think about their future together and possibly having a family one day?
This came from a request in an AO3 comment.  Honestly, I loved this prompt idea—it was something I kind of wanted to do anyway, but hadn’t figured out how to put it into a full story, so it was great to just be able to do this scene.  Also, it may tie into my own personal feelings that guys holding babies is like the cutest thing ever lol thanks for the prompt!  Hope you enjoy reading it!
*
As the automatic doors whooshed open, the antiseptic hospital smell hit Annabeth, making her already nervous stomach twist harder.  “Are you sure I’m allowed to be here?” she asked Percy as they crossed the reception area.  “I thought the rules were family only?”
Percy gave her a look that said Seriously?  “Annabeth.  You’re family.”
She had to look away, letting her eyes fall on the green stripe painted halfway up the hospital wall, as if trying to bring a breath of brightness to the place.  She didn’t want to reveal just how much his words made her entire body feel warm and fluttery.  “Okay, fine.  But if anyone asks…”
“I can just say you’re my sister.”
“Yeah, that’s weird.  Don’t do that.”
“Just trying to have a plan, Wise Girl.”
“And that’s why I make the plans, Seaweed Brain.”  Annabeth took his hand, leaning into his arm.  “Why don’t we just use your usual strategy?  If anyone asks, we’ll wing it.”
Percy grinned at her.  “Works for me.”
Luckily, no one asked.  Percy was able to get the room information they needed from the nurse and they headed to the elevator.  While they waited, Annabeth caught movement out of the corner of her eye.  Percy was tapping the fingers of his free hand against his leg in a staccato rhythm. 
“Nervous?” she asked him.
Percy gave her a small smile.  “Just a bit.”
She squeezed his hand.  “It’s going to be good.”
Percy returned the pressure, then kissed her cheek.  “Thanks for coming with me.”
“Of course.”
The elevator dinged pleasantly as the doors opened, and they stepped inside.
Percy gave a small shudder as the doors closed.  “Maybe we should have taken the stairs.”
“Maybe.”  Annabeth drew in a deep, slow inhale.  Nearly ten months out from the Doors of Death and she could still almost smell the sulfuric scent of Tartarus.  “At least there’s something good waiting on the other side of this elevator.”
“True,” Percy said.  “Although, if there’s a giant or any other mythological crap, I’m just going home.”
Annabeth laughed and squeezed his hand again.
Luckily, when the elevator doors opened, all they revealed was a hallway.  On the maternity unit.  Annabeth’s nerves started to buzz again.  She’d never really been anywhere like this before.  When her half-brothers were born, she hadn’t gone to the hospital; her dad and stepmom had just come home with babies.  She realized halfway down the hall to room 307 that she was biting her lip and made herself stop doing that.  When they reached the right door, Percy knocked lightly.  Sally’s voice, sounding a bit tired, said, “Come in.”
The hospital room was surprisingly cozy, well-lit, with pink curtains and several vases of flowers and a couple of balloons on a table near the window.  The TV hanging on the wall in the corner was on low.  Paul was sitting near it, fast asleep in a hospital chair, head back in what looked like an uncomfortable position, his mouth hanging open.  Annabeth caught Percy’s eye and they both stifled a laugh.  His parents had gone to the hospital yesterday afternoon and around 4 a.m. this morning Percy had received the call that his baby sister had arrived.  Annabeth knew this because she’d been woken up by a fuzzy Iris-message at 4:08 a.m. with her boyfriend shouting, “It’s a girl!”  His brilliant grin and obvious elation were the only reasons she hadn’t tried to smack him through the I-M.  Since, fortunately, it was now a few hours later on Saturday morning, they had come to the hospital as soon as visiting hours started to meet the newest member of the Jackson-Blofis household.
Sally was sitting up in bed, wearing a blue terrycloth robe, her hair in a loose ponytail, looking tired, but very happy.  She beamed when she saw them and gestured with one hand for them to come in.  In her arms was a tiny bundle of pink blankets.
“Hey, Mom,” Percy said, speaking softly.
“Hi, sweetheart.”  Sally gestured for him to come closer.  When Percy reached the bed, she leaned up to kiss his cheek.  “Want to meet your sister?”
Percy swallowed and nodded.  Annabeth felt a little bit like an interloper on this family moment as Sally explained to Percy how to hold his arms, then shifted the bundle of blankets into his arms.  “Percy, this is Estelle.  Estelle, this is your big brother.”
“Hey, Estelle,” Percy said softly.  He studied her tiny face for a moment, just barely visible over the edge of her blanket, then leaned down and very gently kissed her forehead.
Annabeth completely melted.  She had thought all along that Percy would be a cute big brother, but she was so not prepared for the sight of him actually holding his tiny baby sister and being so adorably sweet with her.  If she wasn’t already head over heels for him, this would have sealed the deal.
Not to mention the way that Sally was looking at her two children.  Her expression was so tender and happy that Annabeth had to look away, blinking quickly.  Percy was talking softly to baby Estelle, but Annabeth couldn’t make out the words.  That was okay—she didn’t think she would be able to handle any more cuteness without getting really choked up and completely embarrassing herself.
“Annabeth.”
She looked up when Percy said her name.  His face was lit up with such a clear, obvious happiness that it made her breath hitch.  She swallowed, getting a hold of herself, and said, “Yeah?”
“Do you want to hold her?” Percy asked.
Annabeth looked at Sally.  “Is—is that okay?”
“Of course, honey.”  Sally smiled.  “You’re family.”
Tears pressed against the back of Annabeth’s eyes at that, threatening to fall, but she hurriedly blinked them back.  Focus, she scolded herself as she slowly approached the bed.  There was a chair beside the bed and, not totally trusting herself to hold the baby while standing up, Annabeth sat down in it, then, remembering what Sally had told Percy, held out her arms.  Glancing at his mom, who nodded, Percy carefully settled baby Estelle in Annabeth’s arms.  When he took his hands away, Annabeth automatically pulled the baby closer to her chest, to hold her more firmly.  Estelle appeared to be fast asleep, the tiny bow of her lips just slightly open, making the softest noise as she breathed.
“She’s so light,” Annabeth murmured, because it was the first thing that struck her.  She’d expected the baby to feel more weighty in her arms, but she felt light, like not much more than a bundle of blankets.
“Seven pounds, ten ounces,” Sally said.  “Two ounces more than her brother.”
“Dang, she’s beating me already,” Percy said, but he was grinning.  When Annabeth glanced away from Estelle to meet his eyes, the way he was looking at her made her stomach do backflips.
“She’s adorable,” Annabeth said, and it was true.  Estelle had round cheeks, a smattering of dark hair, and a nose that looked just like both Sally’s and Percy’s, which made Annabeth smile.  And then, unexpectedly, she had a flash of the possibility of another baby, one day in the still pretty far future, with dark hair and Percy’s nose, but who also maybe looked a little bit like her, too.  Annabeth swallowed hard and gave herself a mental shake.  Today is about Estelle.  Snuggling the baby closer, Annabeth looked up at Sally.  “I love her name.  How did you decide on it?”
“That was my mom’s name,” Sally said, her smile turning a little wistful.  She put a hand on Percy’s arm.  “I wish she could have seen you both.  My dad, too.  But this felt like a nice tribute.”
“For sure,” Percy said.  He kissed his mom’s cheek.  “Do you need anything, while we’re here?”
Sally shook her head.  “I’m fine, honey.  Paul’s been taking good care of me.  He only just finally fell asleep about fifteen minutes ago.”
“How do you feel?” Annabeth asked, feeling a little bit awkward about the question, but also genuinely wanting to know.
“Tired and sore,” Sally admitted.  “But that’s normal.  And it’s worth it,” she added, with a smile that traveled from Percy to Estelle and back again.
*
An hour later, Percy and Annabeth left the hospital.  Paul had woken up from his nap only about ten minutes after they got there and he was so obviously a proud papa that Annabeth had thought he might actually “burst his buttons”, as the phrase went.  It had been a very enjoyable visit.  They’d only left when Estelle started to fuss.  Within half a minute, she’d worked herself up to a sharp cry that still somehow didn’t seem that loud, since it was coming from such a tiny baby.  The nurse had come in to offer to help Sally with feeding, and Percy had suggested that it was probably time for them to go.  But there was a good chance they’d come back later in the afternoon to visit again, and bring his parents anything that they might need in the meantime.
When they stepped outside the hospital, the spring morning was crisp and cool, the air slightly damp.  A light breeze ruffled Annabeth’s hair.  Around them, the city was starting to wake up, the hustle and bustle a bit of a shock after the relative quiet of the maternity ward. 
Percy drew in a deep breath.  “I have a baby sister.”
“You do.”  Annabeth took his hand, lacing her fingers through his.  “And she’s adorable.”
“She is,” Percy agreed.  “Mom and Paul looked really happy.”
Annabeth nudged him with her shoulder.  “You looked pretty happy, too, holding your baby sister.”
Percy grinned.  “Yeah, that was fun.  I think I’m going to like this whole being a big brother to a mortal sibling thing.”  His grin softened when he met her eyes.  “You looked cute, too, holding her.”
Annabeth smiled, thinking again of the soft feeling of Estelle cuddled against her chest, the flash she’d had of the possibility of their own kid one day, and about how Percy and Sally had both called her family.  She kissed Percy, lightly and sweetly.  “This is a really good way to start a Saturday.”
“Definitely.”  He squeezed her hand.  “What do you think, want to go get some breakfast?”
“That sounds great.”  She grinned, letting him lead her up the street to a brunch place they’d gone to before, ready to enjoy this beautiful morning.
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desertfangs · 8 months
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Incredible 🥹
And it makes perfect sense, really, when you consider how quickly Daniel comes to the realization that they’re lovers in Pompeii, how natural and intimate it feels. There’s no way that could’ve been possible without a mf getting a few sloppy blowjobs in the dark, a couple of handjobs on musty motel beds at 3:00 a.m., several stolen kisses in dark alleyways. Daniel went from terrified to terrified AND horny to just plain ol’ horny in 4 years and it’s during the chase years that the transition period had to have happened, it doesn’t make sense for it to have happened post-Pompeii. Armand (deliberately) walking in on Daniel jerking off and finishing the job for him absolutely fucking happened and it needs to be written asap or so help me god I won’t make it through the fall xoxo DA 💕
DA I’m laughing so hard right now, you’re cracking me up!
I totally agree! So much of the stuff we’re told about those years is so intimate - Armand waking Daniel up to demand answers, Armand waking him to call Paris. It’s Armand bursting into his rooms and jumping on the bed and shaking him awake. Armand demands to know everything about modern men and the topic of sex had to have come up, and oh, boy, that was probably an awkward, horny conversation with Daniel barely containing himself. And Armand absolutely caught Daniel out touching himself many times over so at some point it stopped being “God, will you knock?!” and became “God, come here!”  
They definitely kissed in dark alleys and motel parking lots, fondled each other in train cars and the backs of cabs. Blowjobs and hand jobs in grimy motel rooms and fancy hotel suites, hurried and desperate, and probably not talked about much after.
Obviously you know @apoptoses has written about this period quite a bit and I will say, it was her fic that made me first realize that yes, of course they’d been sexual before Pompeii. I always figured they’d touched, caressed, made out a little. Daniel was terri-horny almost from the jump and absolutely captivated by Armand, and while Armand was probably slower to come around, he fell in love with Daniel, so naturally it’d follow they’d at least kiss.
But I guess I never really considered them doing more before that moment and then I was like, well why not? Daniel uses the word “lovers” and of course they would have done as much as Armand would have allowed, and Armand is not made of stone. His decision to give Daniel a taste of his blood and start being together in earnest is based on real affection and a real connection they’d formed, so there had to have been some more serious intimacy between them leading up to it.
Which is to say that yes, god, they absolutely did all those things and I want to read and write about all of them, there can never be enough fic set in this era, it’s such a fascinating time for them (what time isn’t LMAO). And I want you to get through the Fall so I will do my best to write a horny chase years fic where Armand catches Daniel in the act. 💖💖
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