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#that act like it's just such an obvious pairing
ninelieswithme · 3 days
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ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚ *ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆ ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*
𝙺𝚗𝚘𝚝’𝚜 𝙰𝚗𝚍 𝙱𝚘𝚠’𝚜
ʏᴀɴᴅᴇʀᴇ ʜʏʙʀɪᴅ ʟᴇᴏɴ ᴋᴇɴɴᴇᴅʏ x ꜰᴇᴍ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ
𖤐 sᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ - ʏᴏᴜ ᴀɴᴅ ʟᴇᴏɴ, ʏᴏᴜʀ ɴᴇᴡ ʜʏʙʀɪᴅ ɢᴇʀᴍᴀɴ sʜᴇᴘʜᴇʀᴅ, ʜᴀᴠᴇ ʙᴇᴇɴ ʙᴇᴄᴏᴍɪɴɢ ǫᴜɪᴛᴇ ᴄʟᴏsᴇ, ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴇxᴛᴇɴᴛ ʟᴇᴏɴ’s ʙᴇᴇɴ ɴɪᴘᴘɪɴɢ ᴀɴᴅ ɢʀᴏᴡʟɪɴɢ ᴀᴛ ʏᴏᴜʀ sᴏ ᴄᴀʟʟᴇᴅ ꜰʀɪᴇɴᴅs, ʙᴜᴛ ʀᴇᴄᴇɴᴛʟʏ ʜᴇ’s ʙᴇᴇɴ ᴀᴄᴛɪɴɢ ᴇxᴛʀᴀ ᴀɢɢʀᴇssɪᴠᴇ.. ᴘᴏssᴇsɪᴠᴇ ᴇᴠᴇɴ.. ʙᴜᴛ ꜰɪɴᴀʟʟʏ ᴀꜰᴛᴇʀ ᴄᴏᴍɪɴɢ ʜᴏᴍᴇ ꜰʀᴏᴍ ᴀ ʟᴏɴɢ sʜɪꜰᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ꜰɪɴᴅ ᴏᴜʀ ᴡʜʏ~
★ ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀ ɴᴏᴛᴇ - ᴘᴇʀsᴏɴᴀʟʟʏ ɪ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴛʜɪs ᴀʟᴏᴛ :ᴅᴅ, ᴀʟsᴏ ɪ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴀ ɢᴜɪʟᴛʏ ᴄᴏɴꜰᴇssɪᴏɴ.. ᴍʏ ꜰᴀᴠ ᴄʜᴀʀᴄᴛᴇʀ ɪs ᴘɪᴇʀs ꜰʀᴏᴍ ʀᴇ6.. ʙʀɪɴɢ ᴍʏ ᴍᴀɴs ʙᴀᴄᴋ 😭.. ALSO GO DOWN FOR DAY ONE KINKTOBER IDEAS!!
✰ ʜʏʙʀɪᴅ x ʜᴜᴍᴀɴ ᴀᴜ - 1.5k ᴡᴏʀᴅs
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Entering your small apartment, the cool air hitting your face like a winter breeze.
You had just finished a long and grooling night shift.
Exhausted from yet another long day at work.
Dropping your bag and kicking off your shoes.
Ready for a much needed nap.
Plopping down onto your fluffed bed.
The pillows scattering around as you splayed out.
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You’ve always been a dog lover.
So when you stumbled upon Leon, a German Shepherd hybrid, at a local shelter.
You knew you had to bring him home.
You and him were inseparable.
Or more like Leon was.
He never..
N̶͎̫̉̍͘͝è̷̛̗̳͚̙͇̘͍͕̊̑̿͘͜v̷̧̬̽͂́̎̉è̷̛̗̳͚̙͇̘͍͕̊̑̿͘͜r̵̨͇̰̭̜̈́͑
Let you go
Recently you had to beg him to just let go so you could go to the bathroom.
Or the time your friends came over, the whole time Leon acted up.
He even nipped a few of them, constantly growling at them and speaking profanities under his breath.
That’s when he found out about the crate.
The next morning you let him out of the steal prison.
He practically tackled you to the ground as he cried his little heart out in your shoulder
Poor thing, thought you didn’t love him..
You love him right??
Right
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As you stayed in your cozy room, closing your eyes.
You waited a moment, trying to hear Leon..
Nothing..
The silence was unusual.
It was too silent..
Leon always greeted you with a toothy grin and a wag of his tail, like a good boy.
Jumping around to get your attention no matter how late it was, or how tired you were.
But today he wasn't there to greet you at the front door with his infectious enthusiasm.
You called out in concern that Leon may have hurt himself, your voice echoing in the empty bedroom.
“Leon??”
Nothing..
Growing frustrated you got up, then raising your voice as you stood.
“leon!!”
Yet again nothing.
This bothered you deeply, finally coming to terms Leon may actually be really hurt.
With a huff you stalked out of the room.
Quickly walking deeper into the clean white apartment.
The rays of white light overcasting you, while your feet padded lightly on the marble tiles.
Walking past your kitchen and lounge room.
Looking around, still hearing nothing but your own breaths.
Until seeing a small creak of light coming from one of the two spare rooms.
Slowly you treaded closer, pushing open the door.
Eyes widening at what you saw.
Leon was on the pale silk sheets of the bed.
His blonde hair wild, his blue eyes foggy with need.
Tears beading the corners of them.
As he whined and whimpered.
His cock fully hard, while he used your favourite pair of panties like a fleshlight.
Dirty boy
They were soaked in glistening pre.
The sounds he made becoming louder.
Leon was too fucked out to sense your presence.
You felt your own panties dampen..
Fuck.. he was nude, abs slim for sweat, hair stuck to his forehead. Whining and moans being heard.
You tread closer, his sounds becoming louder.
Finally noticing you, instead of slowing down he sped up.
His back arching lightly as he spoke with a pornographic moan.
“M-M’Need you, h-hurts s’so bad~”
He said his cock beading with more pre. Ear flattened.
It was obvious Leon was going into heat..
You knew you shouldn’t.. but you just had to.
He was your poor baby at the end of the day.
Without much of a peep you stalked to him, immediately capturing his lips with yours.
His soft lips capturing your own plump ones.
Leon’s lidded eyes shut as he moaned, humping the air, his tail wagging aggressively.
His ears flattening further.
You were choosing him.. h-him as your mate??
Finally
He was so happy!!
He can’t wait to breed you full of his pups.
Over and over and over again
His cock twitched at the thought more pre oozing at the tip.
You’ll love that!! He’ll be your very good boy for you while he fucks you soooo full of his love.
Then seeing it slip out onto the silk sheets for him to only fuck another load of pups!!
“I’ll be a good boy~” he murmured mid kisses, he whined. Kissing up your neck.
“let me take care of you... let me fill you.”
He said desperately like he’s never wanted something more than this.
Finally some tears slid down his face from such little attention he was getting.
Making him abuse his drooling cock while your panties get stained with his precum.
You’re being so mean to him..
Only giving him light touches and kisses, he wants to make love!!
Not this rotten book stuff..
Leon’s never been a nipper, well with other people it’s his main mood, but with.. you… never!!
That’s about to change, if you’re gonna tease his weeping cock fine well he’s gonna bite that cute pussy of your’s.
With that thought in his head he grabbed one of your hands yanking you into the mattress.
Making you stumble ontop of him while he nipped at your hand, shoving two fingers down his throat, his tongue lolling out, lapping up your fingers.
The other hand on his cock discarding your panties to the floor as he started an inhumane speed.
“L-Leon” you said breathy, eyes going lidded.
“Please~ just one baby~”
Leon’s tail wagged lightly as he said his plea.
You knew damn right it won’t be one, then with a blink there’s fourteen.
But still you body begging you to throw your clothes to the side and sink down on his twitching length.
“I-I’ll be a good breeder boy~” he whimpered, speeding his pace on his cock
Maybe I should- NO- He’s in heat he doesn’t know any better, you thought…
Yes he does, you’re the only reason he’s in heat. God damn it, just give him a baby!!
The only moral stopping you from plunging down that chewy tip.
“W-We shouldn’t-“ "Please baby, I need you. I'll be soooo good, just let me fill you up, please~."
he whined, his licking at your fingers grew more harsh.
he abandoned your hand that he was holding, to play with the buttons of your blouse.
While his other was wrapped around his girthy cock, speeding up, he felt his member twitching under you, aching to be shoved into your gummie walls.
His tail wagging harshly hitting your knees in the mattress.
You sigh, looking at his blue dilated eyes, looks like he’s not letting this go, with that you nodded.
Finally
Leon eagerly played with the buttons before yanking it off harshly tearing it to shreds in seconds.
He was strong.. but he would never.. NEVER used it against you.. Well if you begged enough~ maybe…
Then pushing up your pleated skirt up, you gasped a harsh hit landing your ass while the cold air did to .
Leon only growled, his ears flaring up, the wagging coming to a halt.
Eyes seemingly even more blown.
“Are you.. seriously-.. it's your scent~, you have to be ovulating.."
Leon panted, his body arching slightly into yours.
His cherry tip nearly touching your weeping cunt as he moaned, his need palpable.
Pre oozing out of his slit, glistening the tip further.
“Fuuuuckkk.. It's driving me wild, please, please—pleaseeeee”
His ears flattened back down, Whining like a dog.
His body trembling with unfamiliar sensation’s.
Finally, you act on your feelings, pulling your fingers out of Leon’s mouth with your own moan.
Leaning back directly on your knees, while pulling your panties to the side, spreading your folds.
Your soft folds right above his wet slit, rubbing against his angry tip.
He hated you right now..
Teasing him..
Before he could register what was fully happening Leon snarled.
Another slap landing your ass, while tears pricked his face.
Leon grabbing hold of your hips without warning only a growl, slamming upwards.
His thick shaft hooking deep inside your tight cunt.
Kissing your cute cervix.
“Y-You’ll look so pretty full of my pups.. even though you’re such a bitch..”
He growled thrusting deep into your womb earning him some slutty moans.
Arching his back off of the bed slamming into your greedy cunt.
Having an iron grip on your hips, while you griped onto his shoulders firmly.
Head buried to his neck, hair brushing against your face.
Lapping at his neck leaving love bites as he plunged his cock deep into your tight heat.
Your wet pussy making a mess on his v line, even his lower abs, such a good pussy.
“Like my cock baby~, mm’sucking me so deep~ ah~ gonna get lost in h-here~” he said wagging his tail while letting out small whines and cry’s.
You finally started to move as well, your nails dragging across Leon’s strong back leaving red streaks.
His thrusts getting faster, hands moving into your back, practically hugging while he fucked you.
He whined and moaned tears bearing both of your eyes.
“S-So tight.. m’sooo warm~”
You shifted your legs further apart taking him deeper inside you.
Leon let out a feral cry, his hips bucking wildly as he drove himself deeper into your velvet wall’s.
Sounds of skin slapping growing ever so louder.
Your tongue sticking out as you drooled and bit Leon’s shoulder.
Fully dazed as your tummy churned, head rolling back.
Leon's hand removed from your back pulling your head into his shoulder.
“Bite on me baby~ m-mark your good boy up”
He spoke then going back to heated hybrid he was, talking about how many pups you two were going to keep from the litter, how much of a good boy he was for you… only you.
“They better look like you..”
He whined, cock spilling more pre.
Leon's thrusts sending waves of pleasure through your body.
Sweat connecting the two of you.
His breaths more rapid.
“I-I’m g-gonn-“
He was cut off by your loud moans that joined his own.
His tip reaching deep in your tight cervix.
“M’so happy, we’re gonna be a family~”
Leon said his ears flattened, as he aggressively pushed you ever so deeper on his cock.
“Fucking finally”
His tongue finally licking at your neck snarling while slamming you hard down on his cock, nearly balls deep.
“Their go-gonna ah~ b-be so pretty- j-just like their mo-momma~”
You clenched around him at his words earning a whine.
“N-Need you to c-cum ah~ ngh~ first”
Such a good boy till the end.
That said the coil snapped around his cock, as you bit down on his shoulder earning a yelp while you came.
His tail stiffening as he whimpered loudly.
his finally thrust pushing past your cervix.
Thick hot white ropes shooting deep into your heat.
His potent seed spilling into you over flowing your crammed little womb.
He thrusted a few more times. overstimulating his cock while fucking his seed deeper into your tight hole.
Only clawing at Leon while the two of you settle down.
Leon still keeping you in a stone grip.
Only pulling your face from his shoulder, kissing you deeply.
“So pretty~ so mine!!”
He said, tail wagging behind him.
With that you smiled lightly pushing hair past your face.
Trying to get up from his still firm cock, only Hearing.. a.. growl?
“The fuck you think you’re going?”
Did.. did Leon just swear at you..
You thought confused looking back at him, he looked angry?
That’s new.
“J-just gonna get water”
You said his snarl disappearing.
“Oh! I thought you were gonna go out with those friends”
You were..
Looks like your gonna be stuck fucking for aaaaa longggg time..
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itneverendshere · 2 days
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you said i have to trust more freely - r.c series (four)
requested here; (one); (two); three
pairing: rafe x pogue!reader(the duff inspired) word count: 5k
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Why did it feel like his stomach dropped out his ass when Nate showed up? 
It wasn’t like he actually expected you to choose him over Nate. The guy was practically perfect—your textbook version of what a guy should be. Clean, nice, predictable. The opposite of him.
But watching you hesitate like you were weighing your options right in front of him? That hurt like a bitch and he hated how much it did.
He couldn’t shake that look in your eyes.
Like you weren’t sure what you wanted anymore. While every time you were around, he didn’t know what the hell he was doing. It’d been like that since the beginning, even back at that party when you tossed your drink in his face after he called you that stupid fucking name. He could still remember the way you glared at him, cheeks flushed and eyes blazing. He’d been a cocky little shit, sure, but that fire in you? It hooked him.
Yeah, he liked messing with you. Always had. But lately, it didn’t feel like just messing around anymore. It felt different. It felt like he was doing it because he didn’t know how else to get close to you.
And now Nate was here, acting like he had some claim. Offering you lunch like it was some kind of test. Rafe should’ve laughed it off. Should’ve let you go. But instead, he was standing there, watching the whole thing go down, and all he wanted to do was grab you by the hand and pull you out of there. Away from Nate. 
Away from all this... bullshit. There he was, full-on spiraling because of a girl. Because of you.
He knew he was developing feelings, had been knowing, which terrified him because it was unfamiliar territory—he was used to being in control and suppressing emotions, not feeling vulnerable or emotionally attached.
Because maybe, just maybe, he didn’t want to be the guy you rolled your eyes at anymore. Maybe he was done playing the part of the asshole who didn’t give a fuck. 
Shoving his hands in his pockets, Rafe walked faster, trying to shake off the feeling. But he knew. It was the way you laughed when you were around him, even when you were annoyed. The way you always gave as good as you got. The way you’d looked at him today—like maybe, just maybe, you weren’t as immune to him as you tried to be.
You were off having lunch with Nate.
The safe choice. And if there was one thing Rafe Cameron wasn’t? It was safe. And maybe, deep down, he hoped that was the reason you wouldn’t be able to walk away from him for good.
He kept walking, his footsteps loud in his head, like each step was trying to drown out the voice that was screaming at him to turn around. To go back and say something. Anything. But he didn’t. He wasn’t that guy. Not the one to chase after someone, to make a big scene. No, he was the one who sat back, arms crossed, and watched the whole thing play out like it didn’t bother him. Like it wasn’t tearing him up inside.
Rafe realized he was pissed. Not at Nate. The guy was just playing his part. But at you. No, not really at you either. He was pissed at himself. For letting things get this complicated. For letting you get under his skin the way you had.
It wasn’t like you were his. It wasn’t like he had any right to be jealous.
But damn, the way Nate had just swooped in like it was nothing, like it was so obvious you’d say yes to him. The dude barely had to try, and there you were, actually considering it. Maybe you even wanted him to. He stopped walking, running a hand through his hair, trying to clear his head. 
Screw this. He needed to get out of here, away from the whole situation. Maybe blow off some steam, hit the gym, or go for a drive. But the thought of you sitting there with Nate, laughing, maybe even flirting—it was enough to make his jaw clench.
What if you were actually into that guy? What if all this back-and-forth with him was just... nothing to you? Some game you were playing because you liked the attention, but when it came down to it, you’d always pick someone like Nate?
If you picked Nate, fine. But if there was even a part of you that was feeling the same thing he was—if there was even a chance you weren’t as over him as you pretended to be? He wasn’t going to let you walk away that easily.
Not without a fight.
Rafe dug his phone out of his pocket, stared at the screen for a second. He could text you. Could hit you with some sarcastic line, ask how lunch with Captain America was going, but it felt... small. Petty. And, honestly, he didn’t want to come off as that guy—the jealous, insecure type. But not doing anything felt worse, like he was just letting things slip through his fingers.
He leaned against a nearby fence, staring off into the distance. Part of him was waiting for some kind of sign. Like maybe you’d ditch Nate and text him instead. Maybe you’d realize that this whole thing with Nate was boring, that you needed something more. 
Or maybe you wouldn’t. Maybe you’d laugh and smile at Nate’s predictable jokes, and that’d be it. You’d pick the guy, the one your friends would probably approve of. The one who didn’t make you feel like you were on a rollercoaster every time you were around him.
Rafe kicked the fence post. He hated this. Hated feeling out of control, like someone else was calling the shots. Like you were making choices that didn’t involve him.
And yet, there he was. Waiting.
He was about two seconds away from hurling his phone into the bushes when it buzzed in his hand. His heart actually stopped for a second. No way. There was no way.
He glanced at the screen, and there it was—your name, lighting up his phone.
Every instinct told him to play it cool. Let it ring a few times, don’t seem desperate. But his hand moved on its own, thumb swiping across the screen before he could stop it. He brought the phone up to his ear, heart hammering in his chest, trying to sound normal.
“Yeah?” he said, trying to keep his voice steady, like he wasn’t dying inside.
And just like that, everything else—Nate, the frustration, the whole stupid back-and-forth—faded into the background. Because right now, you were calling him.
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Lunch with Nate was proving to be exactly what you expected: normal. easy. boring.
He talked about his classes, his weekend plans, asked you a couple of questions about your own. And you answered, smiling, nodding, doing all the things you were supposed to do. But your mind? It was somewhere else entirely.
It was with Rafe. With the way he looked at you before he left, like he was daring you to stop him. Like maybe he wanted you to say something, anything, to keep him from walking out. And as much as you tried to ignore it, that little flutter in your chest hadn’t gone away.
“So, how’s studying going?” Nate asked, pulling you back to the conversation.
“Huh? Oh, yeah, it’s fine. Just... a lot,” you mumbled, forcing a smile.
Nate raised an eyebrow, clearly picking up on the fact that you weren’t all there. “You sure? You seem a little distracted.”
You hesitated, your mind flashing back to Rafe. To the way he’d been so close to you during your study session, leaning in like he had every intention of pushing your buttons. But it wasn’t just that. It was the way he’d talked about the bonfire, about seeing you as more than just someone to mess with. And for the first time, it felt like maybe Rafe wasn’t just a flirt. Maybe he was actually trying to tell you something.
“I’m fine,” you lied, stabbing at your sandwich with way too much enthusiasm.
But you weren’t fine. Not even close.
You knew why. Sitting here with Nate, everything felt... off. It was like you were trying to make this picture-perfect version of your life fit, but the edges weren’t lining up. You were supposed to want this—supposed to be happy that the guy you’d been into for months was finally showing interest. But instead, all you could think about was Rafe. About the way your heart had sped up when he looked at you, the way his voice dropped when he was being serious, when he wasn’t hiding behind that smirk.
God, why couldn’t you stop thinking about him?
Nate cleared his throat, snapping you out of it again. “You sure you’re good? You’ve been pretty quiet.”
You bit your lip, nodding, but it was like the words were stuck in your throat. “Yeah. Just... got a lot on my mind, I guess.”
Like how you might’ve just let Rafe walk away.
Nate didn’t push it, and part of you was relieved. The other part? It was screaming at you to stop pretending. To be honest, at least with yourself. Because the truth was, as much as you wanted to want Nate, you couldn’t shake the feeling that maybe, just maybe, Rafe was the one you should’ve been sitting with right now.
And that scared you. Because choosing Rafe meant choosing chaos. It meant diving headfirst into something that had no guarantees, something that could blow up in your face. But it also meant feeling alive. Because with him, everything was more intense. More real.
As you and Nate left the sandwich shop, walking back to campus, you couldn’t help but glance around, half-expecting to see Rafe somewhere. But he wasn’t there. He was gone, and now you were stuck wondering if maybe you’d just made a huge mistake.
Nate smiled, oblivious to the storm inside your head. “So, you wanna do this again sometime?”
Your heart sank a little at the question. Because the answer should’ve been a yes, no hesitation. But instead, all you could think about was Rafe. About how you wished you were with him, laughing, arguing, feeling that electric tension that seemed to hang in the air whenever he was around.
You swallowed, forcing a smile. “Yeah, sure.”
But as the words left your mouth, you knew you were lying.
And Nate, being Nate, didn’t seem to notice. He was still smiling, probably thinking the lunch went fine, like everything was falling into place just the way he thought it should. But you? Your mind was miles away, stuck on other guy and the way he’d left without looking back.
You felt like you should say something to him, like you should be more present in the moment, but every time you opened your mouth, nothing came out. 
Did you really want Nate? Or had you just been chasing the idea of him this whole time because it was easy, because it was safe? Because he was the kind of guy you grew up thinking you should be with?
But then there was Rafe. And the more you tried to push him out of your head, the more he stayed there, taking up space, making everything with Nate feel... dull in comparison.
“So, I was thinking,” Nate said, breaking the silence, “Maybe we could check out that movie this weekend? You know, the one you mentioned a while back?”
His voice pulled you out of your thoughts, and you blinked, trying to focus. “Oh. Yeah, maybe.”
But the truth was, you didn’t care about the movie. You didn’t care about any of it right now.
“Hey, you okay?” Nate’s voice snapped you back again, his eyes narrowing in concern.
You plastered on a smile, nodding quickly. “Yeah, sorry. Just... distracted, I guess.”
 “Well, if you’re busy this weekend, we can always reschedule.”
“I’ll let you know,” you replied, hoping he wouldn’t push it any further.
Nate nodded, but you could tell he wasn’t convinced. And honestly?
Neither were you.
By the time you made it back to your dorm, you were mentally exhausted. Nate had left with a casual wave and a promise to text you later, but as soon as he was out of sight, you let out a long breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding.
You sat on the edge of your bed, staring at your phone like a fucking idiot. But no messages came in, no missed calls from Rafe or anyone else. It was just you, sitting there, replaying the whole afternoon in your head.
Why did everything feel so wrong with Nate? He was supposed to be the plan. He was supposed to be your choice. The easy, right choice.
Suddenly, your phone buzzed in your hand, pulling you out of your thoughts. Your heart jumped in your chest as you glanced down, half-expecting it to be Rafe. But it wasn’t. It was Nate, sending a follow-up text about the weekend plans.
You stared at the message for a long moment, your thumb hovering over the keyboard.
What were you doing? Why were you still holding onto this idea of Nate when your heart was clearly somewhere else? Somewhere messy, complicated, and...��dangerous.
Before you could stop yourself, you closed out of Nate’s message and opened Rafe’s contact. Your thumb hovered over his name for a second before you hit "Call."
The phone rang once. Twice. Your heart pounded in your chest as the seconds dragged on. Maybe this was a mistake. Maybe you should just hang up before he—
“Yeah?” Rafe’s voice came through the line, a little gruff but unmistakable.
You froze for a second, suddenly unsure of what to say. But then you took a deep breath. “Hey, uh... you busy?”
There was a pause, and you could almost hear the smirk in his voice. “What, finally realizing Nate’s not as fun as you thought?”
 “Something like that.”
There was a beat of silence, and you thought maybe he was going to tease you some more. But then his voice softened, just like it had earlier. “You wanna meet up?”
Your heart skipped a beat. “Yeah. I think I do.”
Another pause, and then: “Same spot?”
You knew exactly what he meant. The library, third floor, in the corner where you’d been studying. You nodded, even though he couldn’t see it. “Yeah. I’ll be there.”
“See you in a few.”
And just like that, the line went dead. What had you just done? 
You hung up, heart racing like you’d just agreed to do something you weren’t supposed to. But wasn’t that the whole point? This thing with Rafe—it was unpredictable, messy, and completely off-script. 
As you grabbed your jacket and headed out the door, you couldn't help but feel like you were crossing some kind of line. With Nate, things were clear-cut, easy. But with Rafe? It was like stepping into the unknown. You knew there was a chance this whole thing could blow up in your face, but for once, you didn’t care.
You wanted real. You wanted fire. And right now, that was Rafe.
As you walked to the library, the campus around you blurred, your thoughts spinning back to every moment you’d had with him. Every teasing comment, every cocky grin, every time he’d gotten under your skin without even trying. Maybe you had been pretending with Nate—pretending to want something you were never actually sure about.
But with Rafe? You weren’t pretending. Even when it terrified you.
When you reached the third floor of the library, it was quiet, almost too quiet. Your footsteps echoed as you made your way to the spot you both knew so well. And there he was, leaning back in his chair like he didn’t have a care in the world, like he wasn’t the reason you’d been tied up in knots all day.
You rolled your eyes and crossed the room, dropping into the chair across from him. “Don’t start,” you warned, though the edge in your voice was weaker than you wanted it to be.
Rafe’s grin widened. “What, can’t handle me being right for once?”
You scoffed, crossing your arms over your chest. “Right about what? You being a total pain in my ass? Sure, I’ll give you that.”
He leaned forward, resting his chin on his hand like he was amused by your whole existence. “C’mon, you know why you’re here.”
“So,” you started, trying to act casual, like your heart wasn’t pounding out of your chest. “I guess lunch with Nate didn’t really do it for me.”
He raised an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth twitching up in amusement. “No shit. Figured as much.”
You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t help the smile that crept up. “Why are you so smug about it?”
“Because,” he said, leaning forward, resting his elbows on the table, “I knew you’d come back.”
Your breath caught in your throat at how sure he sounded.
Of course he knew. That cocky, self-assured grin of his said it all. He’d been waiting for this moment—waiting for you to realize what he had probably known all along.
And damn if it didn’t piss you off.
You sat down across from him, trying to hold onto the last shreds of your resolve, but it was slipping. Fast. Because the way he was looking at you? Like he was daring you to admit what you were really feeling—it was messing with your head.
“So, what now?” you asked, trying to sound nonchalant.
Rafe crossed his arms, biceps bulging in his stupid polo, like he was giving you all the space in the world to figure it out. “That’s up to you.”
That’s the thing about him—he could act all indifferent, like he wasn’t bothered, but you could see it. There was something behind his eyes, just barely kept in check. And it wasn’t nothing. It wasn’t just some game to him. Not anymore.
But you weren’t ready to give him that satisfaction. Not yet. 
“What makes you so sure I’m not just here to tell you I’m picking Nate?”
That smirk faltered for just a second. “You’re not.”
You couldn’t be. 
“How do you know?”
“Because if you were, you wouldn’t have called me.”
The way he said it—so simple, so damn certain—made your heart skip. He was right, and you hated that he knew it. Hated that he had this pull on you that no one else ever had. But at the same time, you couldn’t deny the truth. Not when it was staring you in the face, wearing a smug expression and leaning back like he had all the time in the world.
“What if I did?” you shot back, still trying to hold your ground.
He shrugged, that infuriating grin never leaving his face. “Then I guess I’d have to live with that. But I’m not worried.”
Lies.
You narrowed your eyes at him, “You’re so damn cocky, you know that?”
“I’ve been told,” he said with a wink.
You wanted to roll your eyes again, to act like he wasn’t getting to you. But he was. And he knew it.
You rested your elbows on the table, your eyes meeting his. “And what if I told you I wasn’t sure? What if I told you I’m still figuring it out?”
He didn’t flinch. Didn’t move. Just kept his eyes locked on yours, like he was seeing right through the bullshit. “Then I’d tell you to take your time. Figure it out.”
The way he said it—so calm, so sure—made your stomach twist. He wasn’t asking you to pick him. He was daring you to. Because Rafe didn’t do half-measures. He didn’t do safe. He was all or nothing, and right now? He was putting it all on the table.
All you could think about was the way your heart was hammering in your chest, the way every part of you was screaming that this—this—was what you really wanted.
And that’s when it hit you: you weren’t scared of Rafe. You were scared of how much you wanted him.
“Rafe, I—” You stopped yourself, unsure of where you were even going with that.
His expression softened, just a fraction. “What? What do you want to say?”
You wanted to say everything. That you weren’t just messing with him anymore either, that you couldn’t stop thinking about him, that you were tired of pretending like Nate was some perfect choice when he wasn’t even in the same league. But saying all that? To someone who hurt you so much before?
He had that look, like he knew exactly what was going through your mind but was giving you space to figure it out on your own. But you weren’t sure. You weren’t sure if you were ready to say it out loud. Admitting how much Rafe meant to you felt like letting him win, like handing him all the power. And after everything, after all the back-and-forth, you didn’t want to be that vulnerable. Not with him.
“I know I’ve been an asshole,” he started, almost hesitant. “All those years, the shit I said—it wasn’t right. You didn’t deserve that. You don’t deserve that.”
Your breath caught in your throat. 
He ran a hand through his hair, like he was trying to figure out how to keep going. “I just... I don’t know. It was easier to push you away, to act like I didn’t give a fuck, you know? Like messing with you made it better somehow. But it didn’t.” He paused, his voice softening. “It made me feel like shit.”
You didn’t say anything. You couldn’t. You just sat there, staring at him, trying to process the fact that Rafe Cameron—Rafe—was apologizing.
He swallowed, looking down for a second before meeting your eyes again.
 “I know I’m a mess. Hell, I’ve always been a mess. And I get why you’d pick someone like Nate. The guy who won’t make you lose sleep wondering what the hell is going on.” He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “But the truth is, I fucked up. I’ve been fucking up since the beginning. With you, with us. And I hate that I did that." He pushed back slightly, running a hand over his face like he was frustrated with himself. “I’m not good with this... with feelings. With being upfront. But I’m trying, okay? I’m trying to figure it out. I don’t expect you to forgive me just like that or trust me after everything I’ve pulled. But I want you to know I’m not the same guy I was back then. It sounds fucking insane, but I’m not. I want to be better. For you. Because, fuck, I don’t want to lose you to some guy just because I couldn’t admit I was scared of this—of us.”
You bit your lip, not trusting yourself to speak just yet.
“And look, I know I’ve made it hard for you to believe me,” he said, his voice softer now, more honest than you’d ever heard him. “But you should know that you’re not just some game to me. Not anymore. You’re... everything I’ve been too afraid to want.”
The guy who spent years acting like nothing could touch him, like he was untouchable, was now sitting across from you, pouring his heart out. And you had no idea what to say.
Your mind was racing. It felt like everything you thought you knew about him, about what you were feeling, was suddenly flipped upside down. You'd always assumed Rafe would never be the guy who’d sit down and admit he was scared of something, especially not scared of you.
But here he was, looking like he was waiting for you to say something—anything.
What? What were you even supposed to say? That you forgave him? That you didn’t? That you were still figuring out how you felt about everything? You weren’t even sure yourself. But you did know one thing—whatever this was—it was real. 
You couldn’t deny that anymore.
“You don’t have to say anything. I just needed you to know that I’m not going to play around anymore. Not with you.”
Your heart clenched at that. And the thing was, you could see it in his eyes—he meant it. There was no teasing smirk, no cocky attitude. Just him. Raw and real and honest in a way that caught you completely off guard.
And suddenly, you realized that was what scared you the most. Not Rafe, but the way he made you feel. The way he pushed you to stop pretending, to be real, even when it terrified you.
You stared at him, feeling like your brain was short-circuiting. He was spilling his guts to you. It felt... unreal, and you were torn between wanting to laugh and maybe freak out a little.
All you could think was, How the hell am I supposed to handle this? This wasn’t what you were expecting. Not from him.
“So, what,” you started, leaning back a bit, trying to keep your voice casual, “you’re just, like, a totally different person now? Is this the part where you tell me you’ve been secretly going to therapy or something?”
Rafe’s lips twitched, but he didn’t fully smile. “No, not exactly,” he said, running a hand through his hair. “But... I’ve been trying to figure shit out. With myself. With us.”
With us. Your stomach did this stupid little flip at that, but you ignored it. “That’s a big statement, Cameron. You’ve had, like, two whole epiphanies and suddenly you’ve got everything figured out?”
He sighed, “I’m not saying I’ve got it all figured out, alright? I’m just trying to be honest for once. I’m done screwing around with you.”
His tone was sincere, and as much as you wanted to keep teasing him, the look in his eyes made your throat tighten a bit. You shifted in your seat, your mind running a million miles an hour.
“I mean, I guess that’s an improvement,” you muttered, keeping it light even though your heart was pounding.
Rafe raised an eyebrow. “You guess?”
“Well, yeah,” you said, crossing your arms and giving him a pointed look. “You were, let’s see, kind of a dick for a long time.”
He didn’t argue. “Yeah. I was.”
That caught you off guard. No defense, no excuses. Just... agreement. 
“Okay, so... what now?” you asked, trying to play it cool. “You apologize, and I just forget all the crap from before? You’re really not making this easy,” you said, trying to keep your tone light, but your voice betrayed you, sounding a little too soft.
Rafe shrugged, that little smirk threatening to return. “Didn’t think you wanted easy.”
You narrowed your eyes at him, trying to keep your composure. “You think you know me so well, huh?”
“Better than you think.”
Your heart raced. “Right, because I just love being confused and frustrated. It’s my favorite hobby.”
He chuckled, clearly enjoying this back-and-forth. “Well, you could always just admit that you’re intrigued. That might save us both some time.”
“Intrigued? Please. More like I’m questioning my life choices.”
Rafe leaned forward, “Hey, at least it’s not boring, right? I mean, look at us. This is way more interesting than whatever you were doing with Nate.”
You couldn’t argue with that. “True. But interesting doesn’t mean it’s not a total trainwreck waiting to happen.”
“Maybe,” he said, “But it could also mean something different.”
 “You’re really pulling out all the stops, huh?” you said, trying to lighten the mood again. “What’s next? A serenade?”
“Actually, I’m not a bad singer,” he quipped, flashing that trademark grin. “But I think I’ll spare you the performance for now.”
“Wow, I’m overwhelmed by the humility.”
He chuckled softly, “You love it. And you know it.”
There it was again—the way he said things like it was a fact, like he could read you better than you could read yourself. And the worst part? He wasn’t exactly wrong.
“You don’t know everything about me, Rafe,” you said, your voice quieter now, but not weak. 
His smile softened, just barely, like he heard what you weren’t saying out loud. 
“Maybe not everything. But enough to know you’re not here by accident.”
It was easier to blame the pull he had on you. But deep down, you knew it wasn’t just him. You were here because something between the two of you, no matter how messy, no matter how confusing, felt unfinished.
You crossed your arms, trying to gain some control of the situation. “You’re awfully confident for someone who doesn’t have all the answers.”
“Not all of them,” he agreed, leaning back in his chair again, “But I know enough to know I’m not letting you go without a fight.”
There it was. That line you didn’t know you were waiting for. The line that said this wasn’t just some flirty game for him anymore. That maybe he was as scared of losing you as you were of admitting how much you wanted him.
And in that moment, sitting across from him, with all his defenses down and no jokes left to deflect with, you realized something terrifying: you weren’t ready to walk away either.
“Well,” you said, your voice softer, “I guess we’ll see if you’re really up for it, won’t we?”
His eyes locked onto yours, something serious flickering there for a moment before he nodded. “Yeah. We will.”
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someonexsomeone · 1 day
Text
Sweetness
Title: Sweetness
Author: SomeonexSomeone
Word Count: 3.3k
Pairing: Remus Lupin x Reader, James Potter x Lily Evans
Summary: The Marauders LOVED to watch you with Remus.
Authors Note: this was actually born from another fic i was writing that i hated scrapped and kept one sentence from lmao
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“What are you idiots up to now?” 
There was very little that could rattle Lily Evans. Her sister, Severus Snape, and, as reluctant as she wanted to admit it, James Potter, were just a few people, not to mention the very Gryffindor nature she adopted over the years making her susceptible to reckless actions, but she was getting the hang of it, honest! It was just that stupid Potter that set her on edge without having to do anything, and then he’d bat his pretty eyelashes at her and--
Ugh. Thinking about him made her feel nauseous.
She’d done her best to avoid Potter as much as possible, not that Dumbledore made it any easier assigning them as Head Girl and Boy (despite her many protests), but he seemed adamant on sticking by her side. Or, as Marlene suggested, not that Lily believed it anyway, that Potter was simply going about his day to day life and they just happened to share a few classes together and of course he would sit near her in the Great Hall since it was practically commonplace to sit near your yearmates, and why was she paying so close attention to him anyway?
“Because he’s so annoying it's impossible to ignore. Like a moldy cheese, his stink of annoyance just fills a room.”
“You know, Lily,” Marlene teased, drawing out every word. “Some people think smelly cheese is irresistible.”
She stormed away before she could think that her red face was attributed to anything but anger.
So, imagine her surprise when, the very person she was trying to avoid, was acting more a fool than usual, his butt hanging out of a classroom door with none of the decorum required of a Head Boy. Though, she mused, why did she expect anything different from him, even if he’d been acting more mature this term.
His goofy shocked face caused her heart to flutter, another symptom of her annoyance.
“Lily!” Potter whisper-shouted, somehow being incapable of speaking quietly even when it was so obvious he was trying. Sirius Black, used to his antics, knocked a knobby elbow into his side from his position on the floor, playful glare on his face as he shushed his better half.
“Quiet!” Black hissed, voice just as loud. Potter didn’t seem to notice, sending him a sheeping smile.
“Sorry!” he said, though his voice was only lower in pitch, not volume. Lily rolled her eyes. “What are you doing here? I thought you were studying with Marlene?”
“Stalking me now, Potter?” She was shocked, however, when Potter flushed red instead of his flirty remark.
“I-I would never! You know that, don’t you?” And then, as if he realized how pathetic he sounded, his mouth twitched into a grimace. “Unless, you--…you want me to?”
“Oh Merlin,” Black sighed, shaking his head, voice exasperated. “Marlene told us in case Dorcas finished her meeting with Professor Gropmorph early.”
This time, it was Lily who flushed in embarrassment. Thankfully, Remus took the perfect moment to open the door to the classroom, unamusement clear, even as Potter and Black toppled like dominoes face first onto Remus’s shoes.
“What are you idiots doing now?” Lily felt her chest swell in kinship, even as Remus’s face dropped in shock at spotting her standing there. “Lily?”
“I promise,” she said quickly, “I have nothing to do with this!”
“What…what are you doing here? What are any of you doing here?”
“Well, you see--!” Black scrambled to his feet, knocking James over in his attempt to get up faster. “I was just--...we were just--...”
“Rounds!” James shouted, gracelessly, despite his usual athleticism, using the door frame to pull himself up. Once he was on his feet, he swung an arm around Lily. When she tried to sidestep away from him, he kept his arm firm, and she pretended to hate it. “We were just doing rounds, right, Evans?”
It was a miracle these marauders didn’t get into more trouble if this is what they were like when they were lying. James was staring down at her with his big brown eyes, twinkling with hope. Black was making a subtle motion to play along, though it was in clear view of Remus, who eyed them suspiciously.
Why me?, she thought, miserably.
“...Yeah,” she finally said, though the moment had stretched on for far too long to be convincing. Black face palmed.
“Rounds? But it’s not even dinner yet?”
James cursed under his breath. Lily rolled her eyes. How could he forget his best friend was a prefect?
“It’s those new Head rounds, right?” Black provided. James slumped in relief, immediately nodding along.
“Yep! Yeah, new rounds for Head Girl and Boy. Wouldn’t have taken the job if I knew there was so much to do!” James laughed too loud, then abruptly stopped, whipping his head down to look at Lily. “Not that I’m not responsible! I agreed, so I’ll follow through. Promise!”
“...okay,” Remus agreed, drawing out the sound to fill the sudden awkward silence. He eyes Black, almost looking like he was going to ask what he was doing there, then decided better and kept the question to himself. Lily didn’t blame him. “Well, have fun…?”
“Yes, yes! You as well, whatever mysterious thing you’re doing in there!” Black babbled, practically pushing Remus back into the room, throwing a glare over his shoulder. 
Just before the door shut, Lily swore she saw a familiar silhouette.
With the door now closed, and Black assured that Remus was far enough away, he whipped around, voice exasperated as he said, “Way to go, Prongs.”
“What?” Lily shrugged off Potter’s arm, and he had the decency to look embarrassed. “Oh, sorry. I panicked.”
“I could tell.” She made a show of whipping off her shoulder, but made no move to walk away. “What were you even doing?”
Potter opened his mouth to respond, but Black launched himself, covering his mouth with both hands. Potter's eyes widened, grabbing Black’s arms to push him away.
“Why are you curious? We’re not breaking any rules,” Black said suspiciously, voice trembling as he held his hands still. Lily eyed the two, Potter obviously not putting all his strength into the fight, then looked at the door.
“Remus is allowed to be in there,” she said instead of responding. She turned to Black, crossing her arms and standing her ground. “You, however, are being incredibly rude by spying on him.”
“He’s our friend,” Black argued, as if that justified his actions.
“Friends don’t spy on each other.”
“Friends don’t keep secret lovers.”
Immediately, the two looked at each other in equal shock, eyes widening in unison. Potter used the distraction to finally free his mouth, playfully spitting on the floor.
“Ugh, wash your hands, Pads.”
Lily blinked owlishly at Black, who looked horrified at what he revealed.
“Remus is dating--”
“We don’t know for sure,” James said before she could continue, warily glancing at the closed door. Deciding it would be best to move away, he nodded his head at Black, then gestured Lily down the hall, an illusion of privacy she found she appreciated. Once they were a good ways down, where the door all but disappeared into the lopsided cobbled wall, James continued, “It’s just a hunch we’ve had.”
“A hunch?” 
“Our Moony is very protective of his pack--” Potter coughed pointedly at Black, who just rolled his eyes, “--of friends.”
“What he means,” James cut in, “is that Moony is very selective of who he gets close to. Childhood trauma and all that. He just hasn’t gotten around to introducing us yet.”
Lily thought they were being very nonchalant for discussing childhood trauma, but she shrugged it off, reminding herself these were the boys who thought dungbombs were funny because they smelled like farts.
“And you were…what, trying to find a good time to introduce yourselves?” Potter turned sheepish while Black laughed.
“Not…not exactly.”
“Not that you would know, dear Evans, but our Moony is quite the romantic.”
“Remus? Remus Lupin?” Lily conjured the shy Remus she knew, the one who stuttered the first time they interacted, who she recalled being too quiet to stand up to his friends’ wrongdoings, but helped in every other instance. Remus, who she rarely saw with anyone but his roommates, despite the countless people throwing themselves at his feet for a date.
Black nodded, long hair swinging around his shoulders.
“The most. Would put Calyna Ollapianne to shame.” Although Lily was lost, no doubt one of many pop culture wizards she hadn’t had the time to discover, the way Potter was nodding his head made her inclined to believe it was a good thing. Maybe Mary would know, she wondered to herself, she’s always been into wizarding things.
“And, you see, he’s shy.” To this, Lily nodded. “So, when he does fancy someone, he doesn’t always have the courage to say something.”
“Except!” Black’s mischievous smile made her nervous. “Our dear Moony, who usually runs away tail between his legs when a pretty thing walks by, is currently locked in a room, far from other students or distractions, supposedly tutoring a very pretty thing.”
Lily stopped, her two companions falling in line to look at her, identical smiles on their faces. If she didn’t know Black had been staying with the Potter’s, she might have been weirded out. Instead, she only felt confusion, looking back over her shoulder to the hallway they just abandoned. Black was practically bouncing on his feet as he waited for her response.
“So…”
“Yes?”
“Remus is currently tutoring a fellow classmate and your…disrupting him?” Black sighed dramatically, obviously not what he was expecting to hear from her.
“Come on, Evans. You’re not the littlest bit curious?” He gestured down the hall. “We just let you in on one of our biggest secrets and you can’t even give me a dramatic gasp?”
“One of--?”
“We don’t bother them,” Potter reassured before she could continue, giving her a softer smile, one that relaxed her nerves, as much as she hated to admit it. “We just…want to make sure he’s doing alright. Provide emotional support, or whatever.”
Lily looked, really looked, at James as he stuttered over his words, pointedly avoiding her eyes. Even with his tanned skin, she could see the beginnings of a flush creeping up his neck, painting the tips of his ears rosy. The more she looked, the more he stammered, hands waving wildly, knocking into Black, though neither of them really acknowledged it, too busy studying her or too used to it, she didn’t know. She tucked away the knowledge that her stare made him stumble over her words.
By the time his voice was getting shrill, pathetically forming messy sentences that somehow implicated him and Black in a torrid affair with Remus, a familiar boy rounded the corner.
“Hey! Sorry, am I late?” Pettegrew called, face red and sweaty from no doubt running to meet up with his friends. “I got here as fast as I could.”
Though Remus was by far her favorite Seventh Year boy, Peter Pettigrew was high on her list, thanks to his inability to talk without his friends nearby. Lily hadn’t had many interactions with him, beyond the odd Gryffindor camaraderie at matches and being paired up in class, but there was something about the way he followed along behind his friends, as if he was completely spineless, set her on edge. Pathetic, she hated to admit, was one of the few words she associated with him, and she felt bad enough about it that she often went out of her way to be extra kind to him. Like now, as she gave him a small smile. Pettigrew gave her a toothy one in return when he spotted her.
“Oh, Evans! I didn’t know you liked watching Moony too!”
“Watching…?”
“Yeah!” He laughed, setting Black and Potter on edge. “These two are obsessed with watching Moony get all lovey--”
“You’re such a snitch!” Black yelped before he could continue, locking Pettigrew’s head in the crook of his arm, pushing his fist into the top of his head and rubbing until both of their hair was askew.
“I thought you were there to provide ‘moral support’?” Lily questioned, side eyeing Potter, who started to stutter again. 
It should have been obvious, she mused, that they were lying about being there for his friend. As long as she’s known them, they were always up to something. Niceties hiding deception, innocence hiding trickery. Even if he’d matured in the past term, actually being a good Head Boy despite her reluctance to admit it, old habits die hard.
“We really are! It’s just--...It’s just…” Potter’s stutter, despite usually making her want to roll her eyes, made her feel a little bad. After all, they were a collection of contradictions. Who's to say he couldn't be spying for good and bad reasons? She nearly pinched herself at the thought.
Black, noticing his friend's dilemma, loosened his hold to step closer. Pettigrew used the distraction to pull his head away, surprisingly knocking a leg out to trip Black, sending him tumbling into Potter, and both of them onto the floor.
“They're looney,” Pettegrew rushed out, a mischievous smile on his face. Potter and Black wiggled against each other on the floor, untangling limbs to stop their friend from saying more. “Obsessed with how Moony gets all soft. Did they tell you their favorite thing is when he stands behind to guide wand movement with his whole body? ‘Oh, Prongs, hold me like Moony does!’, ‘Pads, Pads! Do you think they’ll kiss later?’!”
“Snitch!” Potter shouted this time, launching himself across the floor towards Pettigrew’s knees, knocking them down. The two grappled on the floor, Pettigrew laughing while Potter stuttered apologies towards Lily, swearing they weren’t creeps, while Black rose beside her, cackling and cheering them on, an annoying ‘Fight! Fight! Fight!’ that brought on a migraine she did not need to deal with right now. 
“What are you doing?” All four of them froze, the unexpected stern voice rattling them to their bones. 
Lily was the first to turn, wince pulling her eyebrows to her nose as she watched Remus hurry down the hall, obvious exasperation on his face. She felt even worse as she spotted you trailing behind him. It was obvious they weren’t as quiet as they hoped, pulling you from the tutoring session Remus had gone through the trouble of renting a room for.
“Lily?” You called, evidently more confused to see her than the two locked in a wrestle on the floor. “What are you doing here?”
“I was--...I was just--…” She felt foolish stumbling over her words like that. It was a public hallway, she had every right to be here just as the others did, and she wasn’t one of the bubbling fools getting their uniforms dirty while they rolled on the floor. Well, she wasn’t one of the fools, but she had to admit she was very much bumbling.
“Why are you two always on the floor?” Remus said, exasperated. He reached down, hauling Pettigrew to his feet, much to Potter’s dismay, who had to rise on his own, Black still too busy eyeing you up. She could have sworn she saw Remus send a sharp glare in Black’s direction, but the harshness completely vanished as he looked at you again. Instead of the mean look he reserved for his friends, his eyebrows relaxed, face going rosy as he apologized. “I’m sorry, we’re meant to be studying.”
“Yeah, studying…” Black murmured under his breath, much too loud to be a private thought. Lily stomped on his foot not too discreetly in retaliation. “Merlin’s beard--!”
She turned to stick her tongue out at him, a very irresponsible thing to do as Head Girl but there was something about these troublemakers that made her feel like a little kid again, but before she could do more, Potter elbowed her harshly in the side. When she whipped toward him, he had an embarrassed flush on his face, evidently not meaning to hit her so hard, but he gestured quickly back to you. Only curiosity had her pulling her eyes away from him.
“It’s alright, Rem.” Lily watched as Remus all but melted at the nickname, easily dodging around the group to return to your side. His hand hovered over your shoulder, then dropped, either too nervous or too aware of the watching eyes to actually touch you. It didn’t stop his fingers, however, from twitching towards you as you gave him a smile. “It’s getting close to dinner anyway.”
“Sorry about them.” 
Black wiggled his eyebrows at Lily as Remus’s voice dropped to something sickly sweet, lower and smoother than she was used to hearing. However, as he flicked his eyes towards his friends, all in unison the boys whipped their heads away, whistling or otherwise pretending to not be paying attention. Lily flushed, then looked to her feet, disbelieving that she was following along. But, she hated to admit, this was much too good to walk away from.
“They're fun. And, we can always pick up where we left off tomorrow. No big deal.” You seemed to have no qualms touching him, your hand reaching out to squeeze one of his in reassurance. Lily lifted her eyes just in time to watch a scattering of goosebumps litter the back of his neck, just above the collar of his messy button up. “Same time?”
“Yeah, same time.” She could almost hear the sadness in his voice, easily picturing puppy ears sprouting from his head at how downtrodden he was at leaving you. You seemed to agree, laughing, and then reaching out to gently pat his face. “Have fun at dinner.”
“You could always join us, you know!” Black called out when you pulled away, surprising everyone by daring to speak out and break the gentle atmosphere that surrounded you two. Remus whipped his head around to glare, though he failed as his eyes widened in shock, motioning to cut it out. Potter hissed under his breath in tandem with Lily’s pinch to his side, but Black simply let a smooth smirk pull across his lips, ignoring everyone’s not so subtle hints. “Remus always talks about how much he misses you--”
In perfect unison, Lily stepped out of the way, latching onto your arm to pull you away, while James slapped one of his big hands across Black’s mouth, giving you a bright smile.
“--your tutoring lessons!” he gasped out, glancing at Remus quickly before returning his smile to you. “Loves--likes what a good student you are! Best one he’s ever had!”
“Potter was just telling me how good Remus was. Tell me about it?” Lily suggested, piggybacking off Potter’s obvious lie, tugging you down the hallway. You looked at her quizzically, obviously wondering why she suddenly was all buddy-buddy with you when you two hadn’t shared so much as a whole conversation before, but you didn’t press.
“Alright?” She felt giddy as a soft smile stretched across your lips, neck craned awkwardly so you could turn to look back at Remus, waving your hand. “Bye, Remus. Thanks again.”
“Yeah! Yes! Anytime!” Lily giggled to herself at the fumble, his hand waving a bit too frantically to be casual, but it seemed to only endear you more, nearly tripping over your feet so you could continue to look at him.
The two of you barely managed to round the corner before Black’s obnoxious voice rang out, “Way to go, Moony! You sly wolf!”
Yes, it seemed those marauding boys had a hobby of watching your interactions with Remus, somehow managing to do it in the creepiest, most intrusive way possible. But, she thought as you laughed, wistfully looking over your shoulder, she saw the appeal. 
And, if she found herself in this hallway again tomorrow, now, that was surely just a coincidence.
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masterlist  l hogwarts masterlist
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sp-by-april · 3 days
Text
Dying To Know [Ch. 01]
Okay, so this is a slasher/yandere fic. It's also like, the first chapter and mostly laying the groundwork for everything to come.
It's Eric, Kenny, Kyle, Stan x F!Reader. No Smut this chapter, but I promise we will get there. 😭
Summary: There's a slasher on the loose and students at South Park High are being taken out one by one. You're at the center of it all, and it doesn't help that each of your four best friends is acting weird.
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[Read on Ao3] [South Park Master Lists]
Heidi Turner was scared. She’d been stalking – No, investigating The New Girl again. Heidi followed her home as she walked with Stan, Kenny, Kyle and Eric. They were completely stupid about that chick, constantly following her around like fresh hatchlings that imprinted on the wrong creature. It made Heidi sick.
They walked her home, argued about walking her home – who said what, who touched her where or too much – and then they split up. Eric headed to his place, Kyle and Stan to the Broflovski’s and Kenny to… wherever the fuck of several places Kenny liked roam to instead of going home.
She considered approaching Kyle first, but she went to Eric instead.
“The New Girl isn’t what you think,” Heidi pleaded with him, but Eric waved her off.
He called her a jealous psycho and it made Heidi’s blood boil. She stalked home and fumed the whole way. As she stepped onto her front porch, Heidi heard a familiar chime from her purse. It was a text message. She pulled out her cell, (a trendy, freshly purchased LG Chocolate) and opened the text.
It said only two words: Come back.
She rolled her eyes. It was 2006 and cell service was supposedly improving but the shit was still consistently spotty in Park County. Of course she didn’t get the text until she was already home, that was just her luck.
Heidi turned around and headed back to Eric’s.
🕐 🕕 🕚
High school is tough for everyone, but I had an especially rough junior year. My father died, and my mother moved us back to her hometown. I think it was a comfort thing for her. It was a bumfuck place in some flyover state that I’d only ever been a few times to visit extended family members that I never liked or cared about.
South Park, Colorado. There were two temperatures, cold and colder. Almost everything was covered in a layer of melting ice that somehow never finished thawing. Snow crunched under my heels like skeletons of the friends I left behind.
Once we moved, my mother completely checked out. I was pretty much left to fend for myself. The whole thing was overwhelming. Luckily, I ended up with a group of new friends.
Eric Cartman was…. Weird. I thought the guy hated me most of the time. He would always make subtle digs about my family, something I said, or an item of clothing I was wearing. It took an embarrassingly long time for me to realize that he was pretty much negging me. I couldn’t escape the guy, either. He was in most of my classes and for whatever reason if there was a group project, we always got paired up. At first, I only put up with him because I liked his other friends so much.
Stan Marsh was hot in an obvious way. Great body. Started a band called Crimson Dawn and they played gigs regularly. He had this kind of tortured artist vibe that I really dug. He reeked of inner turmoil, you know what I mean? I was always a sucker for that kind of thing.
I got close to Stan first, and fast. He would walk me to class. Eat lunch with me. Invite me to shows. It was actually at one of his bands shows that I started getting close to Kenny.
Kenny McCormick was an interesting guy. Obviously, I saw him around school and knew him through Stan, but he was surprisingly social. He got along well with everyone. One night we got drunk and just talked about how much our parents sucked. He was so easy to talk to and he’s a really funny guy. I like him a lot. As I got to know him more, I realized that one of the things that made Kenny special was that he had secrets. I tried not to pry too much
As a matter of fact, all the guys were pretty easy to get to know.
Except for Kyle.
Kyle Broflovski was kind of an enigma at first. A basketball player at the top of his classes. He didn’t start fights, but he’d finish them. He had a bold streak that I really admired. I don’t know what his deal was, but it seemed like he had kind of a wall built up. He was hard for me to get to know at first. I always felt awkward around him.
Which sucked, because I was crushing really hard.
I always thought Eric would be the one keeping me out of the friend group, but from what I heard, the resistance came from Kyle. It was a huge blow to my ego.
I’m not trying to brag when I tell you this, but I’m a pretty girl and I’ve never really had trouble when it comes to guys. Attention from men is so easy to come by, it’s practically worthless… You know what I mean?
But Kyle was withholding. It just made me crush harder.
Once I was informally part of the friend group, I didn’t fit in like a missing puzzle piece or whatever poetic metaphor that would’ve completed the fantasy… It was more like we were all a bunch of feral dogs that latched onto each other for safety while we navigated the perils of young adulthood.
When senior year started, things were pretty normal. It was our first day of our last year and I was at the bus stop with the guys. Stan was smoking a cigarette and Kenny was unsuccessfully trying to get him to share. Eric was ranting about something some celebrity said, while Kyle and I were doing our best to ignore him. I was wearing an unseasonably short skirt with a comically large sweater. The leaves were crunching under my maryjanes while I did a dance familiar to any girl who once pretended she wasn’t freezing her ass off for the sake of being cute.
Then I heard something. Like screaming. It was coming towards us.
Kyle exchanged a look with me, and Kenny’s head shot up. Stan glanced around. Eric finally got the memo but by then we all saw him.
Butters was running right for us, yelling something indecipherable. 
By the time he reached us, he was panting so much that we still couldn’t understand him.
“Hyhe!,” Butters panted as he bent over and rested his palms on his knees, “Hyhee’s gone,”
Eric frowned at him, “Try it again, but this time say it in English,”
“She’s dead” Butters continued and we all understood that.
Kyle took a step towards him, “Who’s dead?
Butters looked up, his eyes darting between Kyle and Eric, “...Heidi Turner,”
It was like the oxygen had been sucked right out of the atmosphere. I only knew Heidi because we were both on the A-Squad in Cheer, but I guess her ties to my friends ran a lot deeper. 
I’d been in town six months, but I still had a lot to learn about everyone. 
The bus ride to school was illuminating. I sat in between Stan and Kenny. Eric and Kyle sat in front of us. Neither of them said a word. Every student around us was buzzing, discussing Heidi’s death and theorizing about the hows and whys.
“It’s a twisted mess,” Stan said quietly as his eyes rolled to the sky, “She bounced back and forth between them for like two years,”
Kenny put his arm around my shoulder and his mouth hovered over my ear, “Until you showed up,” 
“Weird coincidence,” I said, tugging at the hem of my sweater.
“Maybe,” Stan lifted Kenny’s arm off of me and he leaned back against the seat, “Maybe not,”
My eyes narrowed, “What the hell does that mean?”
Stan sighed and shook his head.
Kenny’s head tilted as he looked at me, “You’ve gotta kn–”
“Shut up,” Stan groaned.
Kenny frowned and did just that.
He crossed his arms and we were as silent for the rest of the ride as Eric and Kyle were.
I know it was selfish, but I was frustrated. I had only just started making headway with Kyle and now his ex-girlfriend had to go and die. It’s kind of the worst time in the History of Everything to ask a guy out.
When we all piled out of the bus Principal Victoria was there. She pulled aside Eric, Kyle…. And me.
We sat in her office with Sergeant Yates. It was the most awkward I ever felt in my life. To make things worse, I couldn’t figure out why I was there. I was sure there had to be some mistake.
There wasn’t.
Cartman crossed his arms, “Look – Heidi died and we all knew her. We don’t need a counseling session,”
Kyle slumped back in his chair and agreed with Eric for once, “He’s right,”
Yates looked between the three of us, “No talking,”
Kyle’s face twisted up and I could tell he was resisting the urge to push back. Honestly, so was I.
The door opened and Detective Murphy’s head popped into the room, “Okay, we’ve got the cheerleaders,”
Yates pointed to me, “Take this one,”
“Is she the one–”
“Yeah,” Yates gestured for me to stand and I obeyed.
Murphy had a distinct grimace on his face as I walked towards him. His facial expression combined with the way they talked about me didn’t inspire confidence.
Waiting in the hall were my other squad members, Nichole Daniels, Bebe Stevens and our captain, Wendy Testaburger. We followed the Detective to our counselor’s office. We stood around for like a half hour and he ushered us outside and into a police van. 
They drove us down to the station and finally brought us into an interrogation room.
I sat next to Bebe and tried to ignore her as she pulled a nail file out of her purse and went to work. Nichole looked at me nervously, “Do they think we’re suspects?” “I doubt it,” Wendy said emphatically, “We still have all our belongings”
Wendy was right. They would’ve taken our backpacks and purses, but they didn’t. So what did that mean?
We waited for what felt like hours until Yates could come back to the station and talk to us. He wasn’t alone – He’d brought our parents.
He looked between us nervously, “I’m gonna cut to the chase. Heidi Turner was murdered,”
Gasps, groans and a heavy air of fear fell over the room like a shroud.
“What’s this got to do with our daughters?” Mrs. Daniels said, “Surely you don’t think they’re capable–“
“We think they could be the next victims,” He continued.
Dead silence.
“We can’t divulge too much information on a current case but we found trinkets belonging to each of you, scribblings that appeared to be satanic – and an obsession with one of you in particular,”
“Who?” Mr. Testaburger asked.
Yates pointed directly at me. 
My mother was aghast. He gave no more details. He just told our parents to lock us down, and to get out of town if we had the means. ‘Think of it like a short vacation,’ I think were the words he used. Then he sent us home. 
None of us went back to school that day.
It didn’t matter, because about an hour later the students at South Park High were informed that the day had been cut in half and they were going home. About an hour after that, word started to spread that there would be a county-wide mandatory curfew for anyone under 18.
It was about another hour after that that I heard something tapping at my window.
I had been staring at my bedroom ceiling listening to the new Yeah Yeah Yeahs album, just rotting in bed. I hopped up and struggled to open the misshapen window. Once I had it up I saw the guys standing below me. Stan waved, Kenny grinned and dropped a handful of pebbles to the ground, Eric gave me a dismissive nod and Kyle had his back to the house.
I hung half way out the window so I could talk to them without my mother hearing, “What are you doing here?”
“You didn’t hear?” Stan blinked as he looked up at me, “They canceled school,”
“The real question is what’re you still doing up there?” Kenny asked.
“You didn’t hear?” I playfully mocked Stan’s previous tone, “I’m on lock down,”
Kyle turned around and looked up at me. I think my heart skipped a beat as he stepped towards my window. I had an instant fantasy in my head of him climbing up the trellis.
“Do they think you’re in danger?” He asked.
“Yeah,” I glanced away from him as I sheepishly admitted the truth, “Apparently they found some creepy shrine to me or something,”
The guys all exchanged a series of looks. I thought I caught most of it, but honestly a lot of their short-hand still went over my head. 
Kyle frowned at Kenny. Kenny shook his head and then looked up at me, “When’s your mom leaving?”
“Twenty minutes give or take,” I shrugged, “Assuming she doesn’t catch you guys out here,”
Stan nodded. Kenny saluted. Kyle turned back around and Eric followed suit. I’d never seen those two so in sync. 
What a weird fuckin’ day.
It was about to get a lot weirder.
58 notes · View notes
best-iwtv-scene · 2 days
Text
ROUND 1B, MATCH 6
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Descriptions/Propaganda under the cut:
Claudia killing in front of Madeleine (2x06)
Sensing Madeleine's fear, Claudia brutally kills a group of young Parisians who attack Madeleine one night. Madeleine finds Claudia crouched over a man, drinking his blood. While Madeleine is shocked and afraid, she remains quiet and does not run, Claudia acting calmly and gently telling Madeleine that she is a vampire. The scene is shot like a classic horror sequence, focussing on Madeleine as the dead bodies are slowly revealed to her one by one. Additionally, the scene has notable parallels to Louis's turning in 1x01, Claudia mirroring Lestat killing the priests, and Madeleine mirroring Louis when she falls to her knees. The scene mixes horror and romance to great effect and is a climactic moment in the pair's relationship that the audience has been waiting on for several episodes now. It is scored by 'The Fantasy of Happiness' by Daniel Hart, originally from Claudia's monologue at the end of 1x04. Both scenes are tensely fragile moments and highlight Claudia's growth, while still showing this sense of instability in her due to her aggressive kills. "I'm gonna clean up. And then we can talk" "You're a..." "Vampire."
Propaganda:
No propaganda was submitted for this scene.
Insecure open relationship negotiation (1x03)
Disgusted, jealous and hurt after watching Lestat flirt and presumably sleep with Antoinette Brown several years into his and Louis' relationship, Louis confronts Lestat in a rare moment of vulnerability. Lestat laughs off Louis's feelings, delighting in his jealousy, viewing it as proof of care and even love for his maker. The pair then negotiate an open relationship, Lestat claiming that it staves off the boredom that a marriage of centuries can cause. The scene is humorous as it is obvious both vampires deeply hate the idea of their partner sleeping with anyone else, Lestat seemingly going through several stages of grief as he allows this to go forward. Additionally, this moment is a very clear sign of the deterioration of their relationship, showing how both men put themselves into bad situations just to see the other hurt, in search of proof that the other cares for them. "So I can fuck whoever I want?" "Of course. Of course. Of course! As long as you come home to me. Of course!"
Propaganda:
No propaganda was submitted for this scene.
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eyelessfaces · 16 hours
Text
ashes to ashes
firefighter!poe dameron x reader
it's been so long since I first announced this fic, I know. loosely inspired by this post. thank you to @ofstarsandvibranium for allowing me to write something based on the concept <3
summary: crawling as you witnessed the fire claiming half of your apartment, the only thing you could think about was how cinematic the whole scene was; half of your life burning down in the night, the blurry sight of pairs of chunky boots walking around your apartment and through the flames, the painful feeling of emptiness in your lungs as you rolled onto your back and fought to catch your breath.
just as you began to feel yourself go, an arm wrapped behind your head, holding it up gently.
warnings: depiction of a fire, post-trauma, brief mentions of ptsd, mentions of homelessness, questioning your whole goddamn life, angst, reader has hair
tags: f!reader, obvious firefighter au, slowburn... lol... burn. get it? because of the fire. anyways. mutual pining, strangers to friends to lovers, hurt/comfort, fluff, domestic fluff, kissing
word count: 8.3k
moodboard!
heat me up masterlist
masterlist | taglist | ao3
updates blog: @eyelessupdates
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Chicago had the infamous reputation of having harshingly cold winters; that was the promise you had had when you moved there, and as soon as summer faded into fall and instead began to feel like winter, you quickly understood what it was all about, where the myth came from.
And it was okay, in your small apartment at least. 
It was okay whenever the main heating system of the building was working, because it wasn’t always. Surely a small detail your landlord had forgotten to tell you about when you signed the lease. 
Piling up blankets was fine, but that wasn’t the easiest way to stay warm and certainly not your idea of a good winter period.
It was okay again once you made the bright decision of buying a space heater to put in your living room, then it was not okay the night you woke up to the harsh and very distinct smell of smoke because your carpet had caught on fire.
Not exactly the kind of warmth you were expecting.
And it must have been the chemicals, because while down on the floor, crawling as you witnessed the fire claiming half of your apartment, the only thing you could think about was how cinematic the whole scene was; half of your life burning down in the night, the blurry sight of pairs of chunky boots walking around your apartment and through the flames, the painful feeling of emptiness in your lungs as you rolled onto your back and fought to catch your breath.
And just as you began to feel yourself go, an arm wrapped behind your head, holding it up gently.
“Hey, hey. What's your name?” the man shouted loud enough to cover the default slight muffle of his mask and the menacing creaking of flames claiming your space.
You replied in a drowsy, dazed mumble, and it felt like you were on autopilot mode, like your body was acting on his own, your mind not following – you're barely sure of the veracity of what you're saying, and your answer is punctuated by a painful cough.
“Alright, I’m Poe.” he affirmed with a nod before observing and evaluating the behavior of the flames in your apartment. He looked back down at you, his grip on you tightening. “I’m gonna get you out of here okay? Stay with me.” he demanded, cradling the back of your head as you struggled to get air back in your lungs.
You nodded hastily, shutting your eyes tight as he lifted you up, hoping it would make it all better; the reflection of flames in his mask was too painful to see, and you knew seeing all the debris across your apartment would make you faint if you didn’t because of the smoke.
You could only hear the crackling of flames and the distant wail of sirens filling the air as the firefighter stumbled out of there, his grip on you firm yet gentle. You fought to cling to consciousness, trying to focus on the rhythm of his steps as he guided you to safety out of the building.
Your coughs were painful, and the contrast of the fresh cold night air as you got carried outside hit you all at once.
“It's okay, you're out of here, you did amazing” you heard the firefighter say, his voice barely audible to you as you felt yourself go.
The last thing you remember from there is him calling for the medics as a black veil covers your eyes.
It takes no time for you to readjust your position in your hospital bed when one of the firefighters pushes the door to your room open.
“Can I?” he asks with a small smile, to which you approve. “How are you feeling?” the man asks as he steps in, carefully closing the door behind him.
“Could be better” you scoff, a coughing fit quickly interrupting you. You try to take a deep breath once you’re done, as the doctor advised you.
“Are you the one that got me out of my apartment?” you manage to ask quietly once you catch your breath, your voice rough.
“Yes” he declares as he approaches, and you squint and read what's written behind his turnout coat as he pulls a chair to sit beside your bed. “You got lucky the fire started in your living room” he continues as he sits down, his lips curling into a small, empathetic smile. He has a handsome face, you can tell now that you can truly and clearly look at the man that saved you. There’s a faint, small scar over his cheek, probably one he got on the field, you guess. His brown eyes are gentle as he looks at you, his gaze somehow consoling, reassuring in some kind of way.
You have no idea what time it is or how long you’ve been there, but he still has some dirt over his face and his dark curls are unkempt, so you figure it might not be that long after it all happened.
“Thank you, Lieutenant Dameron” you croak out, your voice gravelly from coughing so much, and you weakly smile, reaching for the glass of water at your bedside.
“It’s only my duty” he chuckles, revealing an objectively charming smile as he helps and hands you your glass. “The fire started from an electrical problem in your space heater that caused it to short circuit.”
You take a sip of water, taking the information into account. 
“Guess my idea of staying warm backfired,” you joke, with a demoralized smile.
He leans back in his chair, a weak, compassionate smile over his face. "It happens more often than you'd think. People underestimate the risks sometimes. Good thing you made it out okay."
You nod, putting the glass back where it was. “Yeah… I can’t believe half my place is gone.”
“It's tough, but, you know…” he sighs, running a hand through his tousled hair. “Things can be replaced. Lives can't.” His expression is serious but compassionate, and you appreciate his attempt at reassurance, even though the reality of losing most of your belongings and your place is still slowly, painfully sinking in. The room falls into a momentary deafening silence before he breaks it. “We managed to contain the fire, but your apartment took a hit. You'll get through this eventually, it’ll take some time but it's fixable” he declares in a tone both firm and comforting as he runs a hand over the light stubble on his cheeks.
You pinch your lips, your mouth abnormally dry though you just drank water. You shake your head, the knot tightening in your throat.
“Fuck, I have nowhere to go. I have no family here, I won’t get my apartment back before a while, hell, I don’t even know if I want it back” you sigh, reality suddenly hitting you right in the face. A chill runs down your spine as you say it, as if wording it out loud makes it become true.
The Lieutenant shifts in his chair again to lean closer, his hand coming to rest over your wrist.
“We can help you. I will help you.” he nods, searching your gaze. “You can stay in a hotel room while you get it all figured out,” he suggests, trying to cheer you up a bit, showing you the possibilities. “I know a nice hotel downtown, not too expensive, and I’m childhood friends with the manager’s son so you can say you’re coming from me” he smiles, trying to draw one out from you, though he knows damn well that his charming smile can’t do miracles in this job. “We have rehabilitation programs, people usually make it out okay, I don’t see why you wouldn’t. It takes some time, and you’ve gone through a trauma so it’s not easy at first, but I promise you it gets easier.”
You nod, pinching your lips in a small smile as you feel him slightly tighten his grip over your wrist. 
“It’s gonna be okay. I’ve seen people take this as a sign to begin again, an opportunity to start over” he nods again as you look up at him, his brown eyes glistening with a sense of hope that you want to believe in.
“I’ll probably do that. Thank you” you acquiesce, still not fully convinced, though his kindness and sympathy makes it all seem easier somehow. As you look at him, you can't help but wonder about the man behind the firefighter's gear, who he is beyond the guy that rescued you. He smiles gently, getting up from his seat. “And thank you for… You know, saving my life” you smile gratefully. “Really. I don't know how to repay you,” you say genuinely.
“Sure.” he waves off your gratitude. “No need. Just take care of yourself. And maybe consider a safer way to stay warm next time.” he jokes with a grin, but you know it’s lighthearted.
You manage a weak laugh, appreciating the lightness he brings to the whole situation. The gravity of it all is still there in the room and inside you, but the Lieutenant's presence and empathy makes it a bit more bearable.
“Alright, I better get going. If you ever need anything please don’t hesitate to stop by the fire station.” As he stands to leave, he glances back with a warm smile. “And take some rest. You'll be back on your feet soon.”
You nod, a polite and grateful smile over your face.
“Hey,” you call as he reaches for the door handle. He turns back to you, a wondering expression over his face. “What did you say your name was again, Lieutenant Dameron?” 
He smiles warmly, “Poe.” 
Poe’s eyes look up from the newspaper as his last name is called by one of his colleagues, followed by a quick gasped “someone for you” with a thumb directed towards the apparatus bay before said colleague leaves.
He tosses the newspaper onto the table his feet are propped onto before he gets up and beelines to the area he’s expected at, looking around for whoever is supposedly here for him until his gaze lays on you, a surprised smile growing over his face.
“Hey!” he exclaims, his voice echoing across the wide room. “How are you doing?” he asks as he walks over to you.
“Better than last time you saw me,” you start, smiling. “Still trying to figure everything out, it’s a bit exhausting but it has to be done, so” you shrug.
“Mhm,” he nods. “Well, as I said, if you need anything I’ll be happy to help” he suggests, a bright smile over his handsome face framed by neat, wavy dark curls. Now that his face is clean, you truly realize how pretty he looks, and his closely shaven face makes him look a bit younger, a bit more innocent than he did the last time you saw him.
“Thank you Lieutenant” you smile back.
“Oh– Please, call me Poe” he scoffs, waving you off. “You know that’s my name” he teases.
“Alright, Poe.” you oblige. “So, yeah, actually I came here to thank you again, and I brought this” you declare sheepishly, handing him a box wrapped in gift paper.
“Oh” his expression immediately turns into an apologetic one when he looks at what you have in hands. “That’s very kind of you but I can’t accept it,” he shakes his head with a skeptic smile. “Against policy.”
You sigh. “Yeah, I figured” you scoff, looking back at the box in your hands. “I wanted to try just in case” you shrug, defeated.
“Yeah sorry, legally and ethically we can’t accept those kinds of gifts.” he explains. “Someone once tried to write us a generous check, and as appealing as it seemed, we had to turn it down” he chuckles, hands coming to rest over his hips. 
“Wow.” you laugh. “Some people are really grateful huh?”
“I guess” he smiles. “And he’d still insist after I told him I could get fired for accepting the check.” 
“Fired?” you ask. 
“Yeah, money’s nice but I could get fired if they find out” Poe nods.
“Fired?” you repeat, raising an eyebrow as a treacherous small smile unwillingly grows over your face.
“Yeah– Oh,” he huffs out a small laugh, before he eventually bursts out into chuckles. “Okay, alright, I get it” he nods, a playful, silly smile over his face. “Yeah, fired, unfortunate for a firefighter, right?” he scoffs, the corner of his eyes softly crinkling as he laughs.
“You get it” you laugh, unable to repress it when he wipes a hand over his face. “Sorry, this is lame.” 
“No, no, I actually never heard this one before–” 
The loud alarm sound cuts him off and resonates through the large room, announcing the units needed for an intervention. “Hah, I’m sorry, I gotta go” he says as you witness his squad rushing to the apparatus bay. “I’ll catch you later maybe, alright?”
“Sure, go do your thing” you pinch a smile, and he gives you back a bright one that makes your stomach flutter and a quick wave before jogging to the truck to quickly change into his intervention clothes.
The next time you come back to the station, you make sure it’s with a gift you’re certain he can accept. His face lights up when he sees you coming in, a warm smile plastered over his face.
You see the genuine appreciation in his eyes; even though you had made a good batch, your plate of cookies doesn’t survive for long, Poe’s squad and himself making a feast off of it.
“These are really good.” one of his colleagues babbles, mouth still full of his latest victim. A few poor crumbs are all that’s left off your plate. You smile.
“I’ll take your word for it” you chuckle, reaching to retrieve your empty plate.
“Come on guys, you didn’t even leave her one” Poe reproaches as he watches over you putting back the plastic film to cover the plate.
“You ate most of these Dameron,” another guy of the squad throws accusingly, making the Lieutenant scoff and hold his hands up in surrender. “Okay, alright, sorry” he nods. “They are really good.” he says pointing at you. “Were,” he corrects himself, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “Sorry”
“That’s alright, those were for you” you immediately retort with a dismissive wave of your hand. Poe shoots you a sweet smile that you mirror before your gaze shifts to the clock on the wall to overlook the heat rising to your cheeks. “Well, you're good company but I gotta go” you announce as you stand from your seat, giving him a small smile.
“Thank you for the cookies” one of the firefighters calls out.
“Yeah. You really didn’t have to, thank you again” Poe nods as he follows you, a hand over your shoulder. You nod, a small, sheepish smile over your face at the physical contact. “Really, they’re the best cookies I’ve ever eaten, that's why I gobbled them like a glutton. Sorry again for not letting you have one. Is that your job? Are you like a pastry chef?” he asks with genuine curiosity, facing you as you both stop in your steps.
“Nah, just a hobby,” you affirm with a shake of your head and a wide smile that you can’t seem to repress. “But I’ll take the compliment. And you know, I had to go and borrow my friends’ kitchen to make those cookies, so it was basically teamwork”
“Well, gotta thank those friends too then” he grins. “No but really, they were so good. I’d pay for that” he admits as he tilts his head towards you, an admirative glint in his eyes. 
“Well good, because I need money to get my shit together” you joke. Poe smiles at your joke though it shifts into a genuine empathetic grin that you find adorable. You glance back at the clock when you start to feel the blush creep up your cheeks. “Yeah, time to make money, I’m gonna be late to work” you sigh softly.
“Good luck”
“I’m not the one with a high risk job” you scoff. 
He grins and leads you back outside. “You know, we sometimes host charity events here. You could bring some cookies, I guarantee you you could raise a hell lot of money from that. Think about it. We’d let you use the oven here” he grins.
You nod, appreciating the idea. Plus, it’s a reason and occasion to see him again. 
“I will.”
Poe leans against the wall of the firehouse front wall, glancing at you until you're out of sight. He sighs softly when he goes back inside and notices your jacket on the chair.
It’s been seven hours; you’re not coming back for it.
His fingers mindlessly run back and forth over the seams of your jacket, his gaze planted towards the pile of paperwork over his desk, waiting to be filled and sent to his superiors.
A couple knocks at his doorframe tear him out of his reverie, eyes darting to Rey standing at the threshold of his office. He greets her with a faint smile as his chair turns to face her, and she frowns as she crosses her arms and leans her side against the doorframe.
“Been watching you, what's wrong?” she asks throwing her chin towards him, and he reacts with a huff from his nose and a shrug. The downside of having a glass windowed office with broken blinds.
“What do you mean what’s wrong” he nonchalantly asks, his voice low, putting your jacket down over his desk.
“You’re leaving this pile of paperwork to rot” she points out, looking at the sheets messily laid out over his desk.
He scoffs, like what she’s saying is complete nonsense. “You know I hate paperwork.”
He does, she knows that, but he hates it so much that he usually does it as soon as he gets it to be over with it, and to avoid procrastinating the daunting task. “I know you do but you usually sit and do it. Here you sat and didn’t do anything” she declares as she watches him slightly turn back and forth in his desk chair. “That’s not like you. You usually can’t stop working one way or another, can’t rest for five minutes.”
“Yeah,” he sighs softly, adjusting his position in his chair.
“This is not me scolding you for taking a breath for once. This is me being worried” she makes clear. Poe doesn’t say anything in return, the blank expression over his face attesting of his lack of concentration. Rey bites down onto her bottom lip, pondering what she could do or say to help her friend out. It’s not like Poe to act so closed off, so quiet, like an empty shell. 
“Is that a new jacket?” she asks, hoping to lift the tension.
“No, not mine” he says as he reaches over to the desk to have the piece of clothing in hands again. “It’s from…” he pauses. “The cookies feast this morning, she left and forgot it”
“Oh”
“I gotta find a way to give it back to her.” he declares mechanically before muttering, “But I don’t know where to find her”
“Well,” Rey lightly clears her throat. “With some luck she will notice soon enough and she’ll come back for it” she shrugs.
“It’s been seven hours”
“People that just lost their place are busy trying to sort things out Poe” she shrugs. “It’s winter and she probably doesn’t have much clothing left. She’ll come back for it”
“It might happen when I’m off shift” Poe mumbles absent-mindedly. 
“So what? Just leave it somewhere everyone can find it, another team will give it to her” Poe closes his eyes and shakes his head, sighing in defeat, and Rey scoffs at the obviousness of it all. Poe is smarter than that, he’s a lieutenant for a reason; something’s not right.
“Oh Poe” Rey scoffs, a scoff of disbelief. She stares at him as he rubs a hand over his eyes, then runs it through his hair. “This is what it's all about isn’t it?” she asks rhetorically, as she already knows it is. “My god… You’re into her” she mutters like she doesn’t believe it.
“Yeah,” he chuckles, admitting it like he’s guilty of something shameful or immoral; but it almost is, in this job. This kind of thing is not supposed to happen, you’re not supposed to fall for a victim. It’s supposed to be a come and go without looking back.
“Look, I’m not opposed to you shooting your shot but–” she halts mid-sentence; she tries to find the right words to say the right thing. “Be careful. You know it’s a touchy subject in our jobs” she pinches her lips in a small, slightly skeptic smile. “Overstepping and everything.” she adds.
“I know” Poe blinks, looking down at your jacket. “I’ll sort this out.”
— 
To be fair, he feels stupid for not thinking about the hotel sooner when he was the one to suggest this place for you to stay at. 
The end of a shift has never felt so long; when he usually finds stuff to do to remain occupied when there’s no intervention, today his mind couldn’t stay off of you. A shift with no major intervention was awfully long already, but it seemed to be so much slower as he looked forward to seeing you.
His knuckles hit the surface of your assigned room in a couple knocks, and your confused expression turns to a bright smile when your door opens to him. His face and ears are slightly flushed from the cold, his dark curls coming out of his beanie, nicely framing his face. “I usually go home and catch up on the sleep I didn't get during my shift but it's cold out there and I figured you wouldn't have brought back a lot of clothes here with you, so I think you'd make good use of this” he smiles, presenting to you your own jacket. 
“Oh” you reply, trying to ignore the way your heart speeds up in your chest, staring at your jacket neatly folded in his hands as he hands it to you. “Thank you,” you sigh, feeling stupid that you managed to forget it at the firehouse.
He smiles. “Of course.” There’s a brief pause as you stand there, and you look back inside your room, at the mess of cardboard boxes filled with the life you’re actively trying to piece back together. You want to tell him to get inside, but you also need to work on that mess of belongings. You hesitate, wondering what to say when he speaks first. “You need help with that?” he asks, nodding towards the room.
“Uh, yeah,” you admit, huffing out a breath you didn't even realize you were holding. “I took your advice and decided to start over by sorting out and giving away or selling stuff I don’t need anymore but there’s a lot. I never realized how much stuff I had in my possession until now” you chuckle. “But I’ll manage. You don’t have to worry. You’ve had a long shift, you should catch up on your sleep” you grin.
He waves a hand dismissively, smirking. “Oh, I’m fine. We take turns sleeping during the shift. You know, as long as you wake up when the alarm goes off…”
The daunting task seems to get so much quicker and easier now that Poe is here to help. Surprisingly enough, it even gets pleasant as you talk and laugh about anything and everything, as he intently listens to you as you reveal stories about the trinkets you discover again. Poe has this natural ability to make you feel like whatever you’re talking about is the most interesting thing in the world.
After a good hour and a half of reorganizing and labeling boxes of what you’re keeping and what you’re getting rid of, you’re finally done and it’s time for him to go. You can’t ignore the slight feeling of disappointment as you watch him put his jacket back on.
“Hey uh,” he trails off, grabbing his beanie resting on the bed. “Technically I’m off work and you’re not a victim anymore so,” he rubs the back of his neck, his dark curls falling slightly into his eyes as he looks at you with a grin. “Would you like to go for a drink or something sometime that week?” Poe intently awaits your response; maybe he’s making a mistake, maybe he’s overstepping. 
You can’t repress the smile that grows over your face, the feeling of delight that fills you at the prospect of seeing him again. “Sure,” you nod. “I’d love to”
Your heart leaps inside your chest as your hands brush when you hand him your phone so he can put his number in, and he feels just the same when he pushes his apartment door to a text from you that reads, 
“thank you for today. I look forward to seeing you again :)”
He can’t help the foolish smile beaming over his face.
There’s not much left of your belongings after you give them out to charity and after hours spent throughout multiple days waiting for strangers to pick up the different things they bought from you. 
Some part of you assumes that giving up on your life in Chicago would be easier, that moving states and going back to your family would be more reasonable, until you get back onto your feet at least. 
But you hate it, hate the thought of giving it all up just because your stupid space heater short circuited. 
And maybe it's also because something is holding you back.
You’re at work when a text appears onto your phone screen, forcing you to drop everything you’re doing when you see it’s from Poe. Your heart races inside your chest when you open the conversation and read the message. “hey! still on board to hang out?”
Your fingers hover over the keyboard, not sure about which way you should say yes. You settle on “absolutely” and press send.
You try to go back to work while you wait for his response, but the task is compromised because even though you have your ringtone on, you can’t help but check your phone every twenty seconds.
Your phone rings again after what feels like an eternity though in reality, it’s only been two minutes.
“great. I was thinking about going to a bar downtown” 
Another message pops up.
“is it okay if I pick you up at the hotel at 7?”
You take a glance at the time displayed on your computer screen and sigh softly before you reply. “I’m doing extra hours so I get out at 7 :( and I need time to get ready and look somewhat presentable“
Poe’s text comes almost instantly. “hey, no pressure. I’m sure you look just fine”
A foolish smile grows onto your face, and you’re glad he’s not here to see it. 
Another message pops onto the screen.
“I can pick you up at 8 or later if you prefer. or I can pick you up straight out of work at 7 if it makes it easier for you”
You sit and think about it for a moment. It would make it easier for you. You could avoid an extra ride to the hotel.
“I think it does”
You text him the address to your workplace, and the next time you use the office bathroom, you take a moment to make sure you look okay.
The bar is dimly lit by fairy lights strewn all across the ceiling and walls. It casts a soft light over Poe’s face that allows you to admire the faint, dark stubble that is back onto his face again, and you can’t help but look at his teeth when he talks to you; you remember the way they look when he laughs, and the thought makes your stomach flutter and makes you feel like a creep at the same time.
“So, extra hours?” he asks, tearing you out of your reverie before he takes a sip of his half full glass of pina colada. You wince softly. 
“I'm quickly starting to run out of money. You know how insurances are” he raises his eyebrows and tilts his head to the side in agreement. “And I mean, I’m trying to save up because I don’t think I want to go back to my apartment” you explain, an uneasy feeling running through you the moment you start to picture your apartment again, the way it was the last time you had seen it. 
“Yeah, it’s understandable. It’s something we often see.” Poe nods.
“Most people prefer moving out instead of trying to rebuild their home. Too much trauma attached to the place” he affirms, pinching his lips in an empathetic smile.
“Yeah,” you trail off, nervously fiddling with your glass. “And I can’t stay in that hotel room forever. Some friends offered me to stay over at theirs so I’m gonna crash wherever I can until I get back on my feet” 
Poe nods, intently watching you as he swallows another sip of his cocktail before speaking. “Well, you can stay at my place too if you need somewhere to go.” he offers in earnest.
You shake your head, a soft chuckle escaping you. “Poe it’s– you don’t have to” 
“No, no, it’s alright” he insists. “Plus, my apartment is empty for twenty four hours when I’m on shift, so you can take advantage of that”
“This is very kind of you but–” you pause, not certain what you want to say. “We met what, three weeks ago, and you’re willing to let me stay at your place?”
He shrugs, an amused smile over his face. “You made me cookies. You’re trustworthy”
You laugh wholeheartedly, and the sight brings a wide smile to his face. 
“Okay, well, thank you” you huff out, and he grins before taking a sip of his drink. “I won’t bother you much, I’m working extra hours anyways.” 
“Oh and also, you’ll have to let me cook for you when you’re there” 
He raises his hands in fake surrender, a content expression over his face. “If you insist”
You’ve established some kind of routine based on a rotation; half a week at someone’s place, the other half at someone else’s. That way, weeks seem to go by quite fast.
Being at work is the only sense of normalcy you can find since those past few months; it’s pretty depressing when you think about it, but it might also be a good thing considering how much time you have to spend at the office doing extra hours just to gather enough money to try find that sense of normalcy back in your life.
You sigh softly as you knock at Poe’s door and set down your suitcase of necessities while you wait for him to answer; you’re endlessly thankful for your friends allowing you to leave your boxes of belongings in their home office instead of having to haul them around or pay for storage. 
“Hey you” Poe greets when he opens the door, a dishcloth in hand as he wipes them clean. You smile at the sight of him wearing an olive green apron, and you walk in when he makes way for you to. You look around the wide place that actually resembles a loft, the place dimly lit and filled with the smell of food cooking, and just that scent is enough for you to be striked with a stomach rumble. 
“Smells good” you affirm, forcing a small smile through your tiredness. “I was the one supposed to cook though, remember?”
“It’s your first time at my place, I have to be a good host” he huffs out, hands placed at his hips. “And I wanted to try this new recipe” he declares, motioning for you to follow him.
You follow his steps, acknowledging the space around you. “Actually it's perfect cause I'm exhausted” you admit in a small sigh.
“Good thing I planned on pampering you tonight then” he grins. 
He was in no way lying about that. 
Poe pulls your chair for you like a gentleman and makes you sit down, absolutely refusing you help him set the table or help him in any other way. 
He finally sits down in front of you after serving your plates and pouring you something to drink, wishing you bon appetit before you both start to eat. 
You listen attentively as he tells you about the interventions of his past few shifts, taking your sweet time to savor his dish from how good it is; you wouldn’t have suspected him to be that good of a cook.
Then suddenly, Poe trails off, his face dropping when he sees you're crying. “Hey,” he calls softly, getting up from his seat to join you. “What’s wrong?” he kneels down in front of you, his gaze raking over your face painted in tears.
“This is simultaneously the best and worst I've felt in months” you chuckle through quiet sobs, nervously fiddling with the hem of your shirt. “And I have no idea what the fuck I’m doing, I have no idea what I should do” you shake your head. Poe watches you intently while you try to avoid looking at him, afraid of what he could think. You’re just the poor girl he saved that lost everything, after all. “Sorry, I don’t know why it’s all coming out now. I’m not even drunk” you apologize, drying your tears with the back of your hand. “And I know some people you rescue have it so much harder than me, but even this, somehow… It feels insurmountable” 
“Hey,” he takes your hand in both of his, stopping you from tearing at the loose seams of your shirt. You feel stupid for breaking down like this in front of him, feel stupid for feeling so lost. “Just because people go through worse doesn’t mean your struggles are not legitimate” he affirms, one of his hands coming to rest over your arm. His other hand soothingly rubs the back of yours, and your tears-filled eyes finally meet his.
“Having to rebuild a life from scratch is a pretty tough thing, but I promise you it eventually gets better” he nods. “And you’re doing great so far. You’re motivated. It's a good thing. There isn't much you can do but wait until it gets better”
His eyes are gentle, his touch soft, and something inside you slowly starts to ease. 
You want to believe it, you want to believe it’s going to get easier, but right now, you can’t seem to see the light at the end of the tunnel.
“I know. But– I’ve been thinking about leaving Chicago.” you admit in a mutter. It hurts to say it, hurts to picture it, but deep down you know it’s probably the solution and the right decision.
“Oh– okay,” he mumbles softly, his voice dropping slightly. You look him in the eyes, before looking down at your lap again, a weak, saddened smile tugging at your lips.
“What you said about starting over… Maybe this is it. Maybe that’s what I need. There’s not much left here for me” you say, swallowing a sob. 
The urge to burst in tears gets violent again, and just like he can sense it, Poe squeezes your hand and gets you onto your feet so you can crash into him and break into sobs while he wraps his arms around you.
— 
You shift in your sleep and your mind screams at you to wake up; something feels off. The bed is too unfamiliar, too big, too comfortable. 
Because you’ve never been there before. 
It somehow simultaneously takes you ages and no time for you to realize you’re in Poe’s bed. 
You sit up, rubbing the sleep off your eyes, pushing the blanket away. You don’t remember coming to bed.
The last thing you remember is talking and watching a few The Office episodes with Poe on his couch, wrapped in one of his blankets. 
You hear the faint clinking of dishes in the kitchen, and you push yourself out of bed to go there. The wide space is filled with the smell of coffee and Poe is standing by the stove, flipping pancakes, dressed in the same clothes as last night, just like you are. He turns when he hears your footsteps, and gives you that easy smile that makes your stomach flutter.
“Morning,” he greets you, his voice warm. “Got your beauty sleep?”
You chuckle, rubbing your face. “Yeah, about that, you didn’t have to leave me your bedroom.”
Poe shrugs, turning to flip another pancake. “C’mon, it’s fine. It was part of my plan already anyway.”
You scoff and join him, leaning against the counter beside him. “I was already on the couch, I bet it would have been easier to leave me here than to drag me to your bed”
“You deserved a better night's sleep after the day you had.” he turns the stove off and looks at you. “I carried you out of a building in fire, remember? This was nothing” he smiles softly, handing you the plate of pancakes. You take it, and he gently rests a hand over your shoulder as he walks past you to pour you both a cup of coffee and hand one to you. "Besides, you’ve been through enough. A comfy bed is the least I can do sweetheart”
You take a sip of your coffee, savoring its warmth, but his words cut deeper than they probably should. There’s something so natural about the way he’s taken you into his space, about the way he looks out for you. 
It’s comforting, and maybe that’s what scares you the most. 
You haven’t brought last night’s conversation up again, and neither has he, but you can feel it there between the two of you. 
The possibility of leaving Chicago feels more real every time you think about it, and yet, being here with Poe makes the idea of leaving seem that much harder.
Poe is seated at his desk, locked in onto a pile of paperwork when a soft knock sounds from the doorframe. 
He glances up and it's Snap leaning casually against the door with a mischievous grin. 
"Your girlfriend’s here," Snap mouths teasingly as he points behind him; Poe rolls his eyes but can't help the small smile that tugs at his lips.
Snap steps aside, making room for you to enter the room. You flash him a quick, grateful smile before he leaves and before you step inside the office. Poe rises from his seat to greet you with a warm hug, one that feels natural after how close you've grown those past few weeks. The installed routine of crashing at his place every other week has deepened your relationship, turning it into something that feels comfortable, familiar.
“How’s your day going?” you ask, leaning against the wall.
“Busy, but nothing I can’t handle,” Poe replies, shrugging with a grin. “How about you? What brings you here? Missed me?” he grins playfully, and it widens when you huff out a laugh.
“I actually came to tell you some good news.” you take a deep breath, a mix of excitement and nervousness coursing through you. “I got an update about my apartment.”
Poe’s eyebrows lift in curiosity as he steps a little closer. “Oh? What’s going on?”
You can’t help but smile. “Since it’s uninhabitable for now, and because I’m not responsible for the fire, I’m getting my deposit back– and insurance is going to cover a pretty decent amount.”
Poe’s face breaks into a wide grin. “See? I told you so!” he says, his voice full of genuine happiness, as his hand rests lightly over your arm, giving it a gentle squeeze. There’s relief in his tone too as things are finally looking up for you.
You pause for a moment  before adding, “So…” you grin, tentatively. “I’ve decided to stay in Chicago.” 
Poe’s eyes light up at the news. “Really?” he asks, his voice a little breathless, as if he can’t believe what he’s hearing.
“Yeah,” you huff out a small laugh, nodding. “Actually, I came here because I was in the neighborhood looking at an apartment. It’s a bit cramped, but it’s all I can afford right now. And, hey, it’s better than nothing.” you shrug. “And… it’s like a seven-minute walk to the firehouse,” you add with a grin.
Poe smirks, “So, you’re gonna bring me cookies every day?”
“Obviously,” you laugh.
“I’m gonna have to exercise at least twice as much because of you.” he grins, placing a quick affectionate kiss on your cheek. Without thinking, you wrap your arms around him, pulling him into a tight hug.
“Thank you, Poe,” you murmur softly, your voice filled with gratitude. “For everything you’ve done for me.”
He hugs you back and holds you tight for a moment longer, the embrace a silent acknowledgment of everything you’ve been through together, how far you've come since you met– this could have happened in a better context but somehow, some part of you is glad it had to be him you stumbled onto.
“You don’t have to thank me,” he says, pulling back just enough to look at you. “You’re strong. You’ve been handling this like a champ.” he nods with a proud smile.
You smile back, still holding onto him. "I couldn't have done it without you."
Poe chuckles softly, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. His eyes rake over your face, from your eyes down to your mouth before he stops lingering and pulls away. "Come on," he says, stepping back and motioning for you to follow him. "I’m gonna introduce you to everyone."
The sound of chatter and laughter fills the room where the rest of the crew is gathered. Poe introduces you to his colleagues and friends, and as you chat with everyone, you feel a sense of belonging and acceptance like you’ve known them for ages.
The new year passes around and January takes place quicker than you realize; sleeping on your friends couches is starting to take a toll on your back, so you’re barely able to keep a facade and hide your excitement when you finally get the keys to your apartment and when Poe and your friend Jay haul your brand new sofa bed up the narrow stairwell of the building.
“Where is it going?” Jay asks, short of breath after struggling to angle the piece of furniture to fit your doorframe. 
“Right there,” you point, and your other friends quickly push the cardboard boxes aside to make way for Jay and Poe as they transport and set the sofa down.
It’s the first time in months that things feel real, that you feel like you’re moving forward again. The apartment is small – really small – but it's yours and that fact alone is enough to make you feel relieved.
Your cramped space is a mess of half-unpacked boxes, random piles of bubble wrap, and stacks of furniture pieces waiting to be assembled. 
Your friends each have their own tasks, helping in various ways; Olivia starts assembling your coffee table, grumbling under her breath about missing screws, while Poe puts together your dining table with a look of concentration.
You're tucked away in a corner, hunched over a cardboard box labeled kitchen, sorting through utensils and plates. Your friend Sam joins you, taking out mugs and setting them on the counter beside you. She looks over at Poe, who’s working on screwing a table leg into place with the help of Mike, then she leans in a little closer to you, her voice lowering in that teasing way she does when she’s trying to stir something up.
“Your firefighter boyfriend is cute,” she grins. Your grip instinctively tightens on the pile of plates you’re holding, afraid you’re going to drop it at any moment.
“He's not– we're friends” you scoff, trying to play off though you can’t deny your heart rate going up. 
Sam gives you a knowing look, raising her eyebrows dramatically. "Oh, come on. You can’t tell me there isn’t something there. I’ve seen the way you look at each other."
You feel your cheeks heat up instantly, a wave of nervousness rising in your chest even though you can’t really bring yourself to argue. Poe and you– there’s always been something there, you know that, it's painfully obvious. But putting it into words, admitting it out loud? 
"I don’t know," you finally say, your voice quieter now. "I mean, yeah, he’s amazing. I just… it’s complicated. I haven't really had the time to think about it that way” you shrug, taking a glance at him. 
"Look, I’m just saying, if you’re not interested, maybe I’ll ask him out." she shrugs nonchalantly though her grin attests of her playful tone.
"Very funny, Sam."
She chuckles as she pats your arm, obviously enjoying your flustered reaction. "Just think about it. You two have that vibe, you know?” she insists, putting away the cardboard box she’s unloading now that it’s empty. “Whenever you're ready to admit it, just know I'm rooting for you."
You roll your eyes, though the smile on your face betrays you. 
You hadn’t allowed yourself to think too deeply about it– about him. It had been much easier to push that aside and focus on practical things, like getting through each day, finding a place to live, and piecing your life back together.
Your apartment empties after getting filled and reaching a state that starts to make it feel like a home; your friends progressively leave until Jay and Sam are the last to, each giving you a hug at the door and congratulating you on the new place.
"You owe us dinner for all this labor," Sam jokes as she steps out, winking at you as she heads down the stairs. You roll your eyes with a smile, watching her go before closing the door behind them.
A small sigh leaves you when you turn back and look around the place that is significantly quieter now. Poe is still sitting on the floor, carefully tightening one last screw to your dining table to make sure it’s secured. “Okay,” he groans softly as he stands up, wiping his hands over his jeans. “Should be good”
“Thank you” you say softly, standing against the counter.
He gives you a modest shrug as he puts the screwdriver down on the table. “It’s nothing.” he smiles, stepping closer until he’s standing beside you, his shoulder brushing yours. 
You both proudly admire the place you have spent the last few hours furnishing – it’s small, but it’s just enough for you alone there, and at least now you won’t have to rely on a space heater to survive Chicago’s cold.
You feel Poe look at you, truly look at you, feel the warmth of his gaze lingering over you. You feel it so clearly that it makes you blatantly aware of how close you are, how intimate it feels to be here, in your apartment, alone with him.
You glance over at him and he smiles, his expression softening as his hand reaches out, brushing a stray strand of your hair away from your face; the touch is so tender that it sends a shiver through your spine. “I’m glad you decided to stay.” 
His confession makes your heart flutter, and a tired smile tugs at your lips. “I am too.” you admit, fully turning to him. “And thank you again. Not just for this. For everything”
He shrugs, his face twisting in a grimace. “You’d have managed just fine, even without me”
You tilt your head to the side in disagreement. “I would have been roasted chicken without you, if you remember. So thank you. I mean it” 
He breaks into a laugh, rich and warm, shaking his head. His laughter is so contagious you can’t help the wide smile that grows onto your face. “Okay, maybe I saved you once. But, anytime,” he nods, his voice softer now, his thumb brushing softly against your cheek. "You know that, right?" 
You find yourself nodding, scarily aware of how fast your heart is pumping inside your ribcage. You swallow as his gentle eyes rake over your face, your own gaze flickering between his lips and his eyes. 
“I know,” you whisper, your breath cutting short like you’re out of air. Somehow, all nervousness escapes you when his fingers drift to gently grasp your chin, ever so slightly angling it towards him.
He hesitates for a second, like he’s giving you the option to pull away if you wanted to; you don’t, there’s nothing you’ve been wanting more since you met him.
You lean in, meeting him halfway as his lips press softly against yours, tentatively. Your hands instinctively find their way to rest over his chest, and you sigh into the kiss when you feel the fast beating of his heart under your palm, the comforting warmth of him beneath your fingers. 
It’s not rushed or hurried – it’s like this action is a quiet, mutual acknowledgment of everything that has been left unsaid between the both of you for the past few weeks– hell, months.
The drunken smile over his lips as he pulls away has you going for another kiss; he pulls you even closer, his hands finding your hips, gently resting there. 
His forehead rests against yours when your lips grow apart, your arms wrapping around his neck when he nuzzles your cheek. “I should get going,” he whispers reluctantly, his hands still on your hips.
There’s a moment of silence– You swear you could almost hear the snow falling outside. “Really?” you finally ask, your voice teasing.
“Nah” he murmurs, and you both laugh softly as he pulls you closer, his arms fully wrapping around you.
please note that I'm planning on extending this universe just because I love it so much, I love them so much and I had so much fun writing this, so there will be more stuff linked to this one shot and you can request drabbles, headcanons or whatever you'd like about this AU!
people that wanted to be tagged in this (it was so long ago you probably forgot about this, sorry): @steven-grants-world @faretheeoscar @minigirl87 @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @spectorslut
@lunar-ghoulie @ineffablewifes @whatthefishh @dameronshandholder @thatwonderouswoman
poe dameron taglist:
@lockleysgrl @alexxavicry @mystinky-butt @anightshift @campingwiththecharmings
@mintgreen24 @spider-starry @jakecockley @cocodiem  @friedwings
@luxisluxurious @stvnnie @dowbastan @il0vebeingdelulu @hammerhead96
@unear7hly @pigeonmama
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anisespice · 13 hours
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“ there’s a reason why i walk like this ”
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pairing: fem!reader x shinichiro
warnings: mature content ahead. MDI. suggestive themes
notes: something short and sweet for my second favorite sano :)) i am a sucker for “secret relationship w resident loser loverboy just to spite his nosy friends” lol
tagged: @fantasycantasy, @illegalspacecow, @captaincyberqueen, @fushiqruo, @gunslxtz
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His friends tease him about the pretty girl who frequents the shop to ask trivial questions regarding her friend’s motorcycle he fixed months ago, and how he needed to shoot his shot already.
But, Shin made excuse after excuse for himself not pursuing her…
It was strange, but amusing to watch the ravenette struggle to hide just how flustered he got whenever you came around, his face pure vermilion while wearing a goofy-ass grin as he tried his hardest to act cool. Any more obvious and he’d probably have hearts floating around his head. Not to mention, you weren’t exactly helping either in terms of your obliviousness. There could’ve been a whole sign over Shinichiro’s head that said: Big-dicked single, ready to mingle, and you would’ve acted like you couldn���t read.
The figured it was a lost cause.
Especially, when you stopped by one day with a rather…peculiar walk. A bit of an exaggerated sway in your hips, if you would. The hickies you did a piss-poor job at covering up painted your neck and collarbone with purples and blues, some on your inner thighs peeking at them from beneath the short skirt you pranced around in, too.
It was all the explanation needed for them to conclude that, clearly, somebody’s already hitting that shit.
“Do you think they’ve caught on?” You giggled, draping yourself over his back while he finished his post-sex cigarette. Shin hummed in thought, leaning back into your hold as he smoothly exhaled the smoke through his nose.
He chuckled, then shrugged. “Dunno. I’m not sure our acting is all that convincing anymore. Waka’s definitely getting suspicious.”
“Or really concerned for our intelligence.”
Shinichiro snorts.
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© 2023-2024 anisespice ッ all rights reserved. likes, comments & reblogs much appreciated!
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Note
I'm aroacespec (and honestly confused about where I fall on that spectrum, but I do know I'm sex/romance favorable) and tbh my relationship with shipping is weird.
There are some ships I look at and I'm like "how can you see this as anything but romantic" and there are other ships where I'm like "okay but why do we have to ship them, can't they just be friends?" and it's almost always the total opposite of what the fandom majority's view is. For example, my Sonic "how can you see this as anything but romantic" ship is Espilver, and my "okay but why do we have to ship them, can't they just be friends?" ship is Silvaze.
I will say that something I've noticed is there tends to be a double-standard with allo people (specifically cishet people) when it comes to ships. You get a ton of "why can't they just be friends" with slash and femslash ships, but then those same people will ship a het pairing that look at each other in a single frame. I don't know if it's something that's more obvious to me because I'm gay myself (or even if it's more obvious because I'm aroacespec specifically), but it's weird to me. I choose to look at it this way: if this was a het ship with the same character dynamic, would people still say "why can't they just be friends?"
That's not to say aroace people are in the wrong for looking at a pairing and saying "can't they just be friends? Why do we have to ship them?" but with a lot of cishet people specifically, it feels like there's a lot of people perpetuating a borderline homophobic double-standard. I get it when it's something like Scott and Jay from Ninjago, but so many masc characters' dynamics are canonically given homoerotic or even just romantic undertones (a good example of this being, in my opinion, Sonadow; there's not an almost 3 and a half hour long Sonadow iceberg video on YouTube for no reason. As far as I'm aware it's the longest Sonic-related iceberg video on YouTube that covers exclusively official content) which is why people tend to gravitate towards those ships. I could do an entire analysis on why gay ships tend to have bigger followings than het ships but if I did this would get too long lmao. I will once again point to the Sonadow iceberg video though.
I generally use shipping to explore my own relationship with my aroace-ness, and usually I do that using characters I either headcanon as aroace in some way or who are canonically aroace, because I can relate to those experiences. It's kinda weird to me to see other aroace people acting like doing that is bad or wrong, because usually that's what people are doing, and even if that's not what's going on, fanfiction doesn't affect canon.
There is no right or wrong way to participate in fandom (unless you're harassing people and/or actively putting people in danger), no matter what you identify as.
Basically: People should be allowed to do what they want, if something bothers you that bad there's nothing wrong with blocking a person or tag.
(I might've gotten off subject a few times, sorry lol)
Okay, that thing about blocking tags inspired me to look through my blocked tags to see what ships I've blocked and here's my petty aroace thoughts on all of them without naming names lmao
Fanon het ship. They've never given any indication that they know of each other's existence. Her girlfriend is right there.
Canon het ship. Had the chemistry of two wet paper bags. Literally just shoehorned in there because god forbid any story exist without a romance subplot.
Semi-canon het ship. I'm mostly neutral about them. Just unnecessary.
Fanon mlm ship. Literally brothers?? I don't care that one of them is adopted, they grew up together?? As brothers??
Fanon het ship. I don't care what you call their relationship. You can call it professional, platonic, familial, just please don't call it romantic.
Semi-canon het ship. Again, completely unnecessary. God forbid a man convince a woman to become a villain without there being ~attraction~
Fanon het ship. She is 14?? And he is like 30??
Semi-semi-canon het ship. He did have a crush on her when he was, like, 14 but he's a grown adult now and she's the most lesbian-looking woman to ever exist and they're the most found family siblings to ever find a family
Fanon het ship. LET MEN AND WOMEN BE FRIENDS. LET MEN AND WOMEN BE PLATONICALLY MARRIED.
Fanon mlm ship. I personally see them more as brothers. But whatever floats your boat.
Semi-canon het ship. Just really shoehorned. I don't like the woman very much. I liked her more when she was allowed to be a badass without being a ~flirty badass~
Fanon mlm ship. Again. Adopted brothers. Gross.
Canon het ship. I've seen many things from this director. He's a creative man. He couldn't think of a way to move the plot forward without a smooch?? He couldn't create a series that didn't have an unnecessary love triangle??
Semi-canon het ship. The man isn't coming back for S2 and boy folly gee am I glad
Fanon het ship. Not my cup of tea. Just let them be friends
good lord I have a lot more ship tags blocked than I thought
anyway, this is your daily reminder to just block stuff you don't want to see and move on
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ryssabrin · 6 months
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incredibly cold take but i really do not understand how bl*od/weave became the most popular origin/origin ship, both for each character or like. just in general. like they both make way more sense in a romance with wyll than with each other and more compelling cases could also def be made for gale/shadowheart (both having a crisis of faith and struggling to define their identity outside of said faith) and astarion/karlach (touch-averse vs touch-starved and jaded pessimism vs boundless optimism). hell i'd even see gale/lae'zel before i'd see gale with astarion. they simply do not like or respect each other. it's literally anders/fenris all over again tbh.
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strawberriivulpine · 4 months
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hey remember when i said i'd make adult designs? yeahg. also sorry if some of the notes Do Not Make Sense i haven't watched it in a hot minute
also yes zim is still a threat but at a certain point i think it would be really fucking funny if dib one day just tried fucking Lying and zim believed him and it was that easy the entire time
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nozomijoestar · 5 months
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I know people hate SMT Nocturne's approach to characters but I love this shit, they feel like puddles that drag you down into an ideological sea once you start thinking on what they represent and the context of the situations the game put them in or what they say/how they act pre and during Vortex World, and their isolation from the player makes them doomed from getting any help being faced with their ugly inner selves until it's too late
#you don't NEED hyperfocused character driven narrative to have a good story you only ever need good execution#and i think there's enough subtle story telling here paired with good execution- kinda like Siren ps2#the point of that game's characters was never to have rich personal drama getting to know everything abt everyone#the point was the power of coincidences and coalescence of human will and working together even unintentionally to survive#Nocturne is similar in the approach it takes and it isn't done badly but it is a matter of preference#they're both games about surviving in worlds that are already dead before you can lift a finger & all everyone has is through as well#the isolation and sense of being strangers even with people you should know is very effective actually bc you're seeing everyone raw#you're seeing the essential ideas in their heart by stripping away a sense of familiarity among characters#what's the rule of writing where characters are by function just another manifestation of pushing themes & storytelling devices not people#all a character driven story is rly doing is trying very hard selling the illusion that a character is a person first rather than a device#whereas stories that don't do that are more obvious about characters really being thematic devices- Nocturne is doing this#& character driven stories are selling you the illusion in hopes its your gateway to getting the themes if you think of them as people#at least good character driven stories anyway- it's about baiting the audience into thinking deeper but doesn't always work well too tbf#i feel this whole discussion on character involvement is rly asking how much does it take for you to feel someone matters & that will vary#how much involvement do you have to feel from a story from a person in order to START thinking deeper on them let alone like or act/help#for me all i needed to see was Chiaki jress to know this is my favorite character and lo and behold i was right fjhdbdfndj
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pika-blur · 7 months
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i have reached the point cap in puyo 20th :P
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joycrispy · 1 year
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Awhile ago @ouidamforeman made this post:
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This shot through my brain like a chain of firecrackers, so, without derailing the original post, I have some THOUGHTS to add about why this concept is not only hilarious (because it is), but also...
It. It kind of fucks. Severely.
And in a delightfully Pratchett-y way, I'd dare to suggest.
I'll explain:
As inferred above, both Crowley AND Aziraphale have canonical Biblical counterparts. Not by name, no, but by function.
Crowley, of course, is the serpent of Eden.
(note on the serpent of Eden: In Genesis 3:1-15, at least, the serpent is not identified as anything other than a serpent, albeit one that can talk. Later, it will be variously interpreted as a traitorous agent of Hell, as a demon, as a guise of Satan himself, etc. In Good Omens --as a slinky ginger who walks funny)
Lesser known, at least so far as I can tell, is the flaming sword. It, too, appears in Genesis 3, in the very last line:
"So he drove out the man; and placed at the east of the garden of Eden Cherubims, and a flaming sword which turned every way, to keep the way of the tree of life." --Genesis 3:24, KJV
Thanks to translation ambiguity, there is some debate concerning the nature of the flaming sword --is it a divine weapon given unto one of the Cherubim (if so, why only one)? Or is it an independent entity, which takes the form of a sword (as other angelic beings take the form of wheels and such)? For our purposes, I don't think the distinction matters. The guard at the gate of Eden, whether an angel wielding the sword or an angel who IS the sword, is Aziraphale.
(note on the flaming sword: in some traditions --Eastern Orthodox, for example-- it is held that upon Christ's death and resurrection, the flaming sword gave up it's post and vanished from Eden for good. By these sensibilities, the removal of the sword signifies the redemption and salvation of man.
...Put a pin in that. We're coming back to it.)
So, we have our pair. The Serpent and the Sword, introduced at the beginning and the end (ha) of the very same chapter of Genesis.
But here's the important bit, the bit that's not immediately obvious, the bit that nonetheless encapsulates one of the central themes, if not THE central theme, of Good Omens:
The Sword was never intended to guard Eden while Adam and Eve were still in it.
Do you understand?
The Sword's function was never to protect them. It doesn't even appear until after they've already fallen. No... it was to usher Adam and Eve from the garden, and then keep them out. It was a threat. It was a punishment.
The flaming sword was given to be used against them.
So. Again. We have our pair. The Serpent and the Sword: the inception and the consequence of original sin, personified. They are the one-two punch that launches mankind from paradise, after Hell lures it to destruction and Heaven condemns it for being destroyed. Which is to say that despite being, supposedly, hereditary enemies on two different sides of a celestial cold war, they are actually unified by one purpose, one pivotal role to play in the Divine Plan: completely fucking humanity over.
That's how it's supposed to go. It is written.
...But, in Good Omens, they're not just the Serpent and the Sword.
They're Crowley and Aziraphale.
(author begins to go insane from emotion under the cut)
In Good Omens, humanity is handed it's salvation (pin!) scarcely half an hour after losing it. Instead of looming over God's empty garden, the sword protects a very sad, very scared and very pregnant girl. And no, not because a blameless martyr suffered and died for the privilege, either.
It was just that she'd had such a bad day. And there were vicious animals out there. And Aziraphale worried she would be cold.
...I need to impress upon you how much this is NOT just a matter of being careless with company property. With this one act of kindness, Aziraphale is undermining the whole entire POINT of the expulsion from Eden. God Herself confronts him about it, and he lies. To God.
And the Serpent--
(Crowley, that is, who wonders what's so bad about knowing the difference between good and evil anyway; who thinks that maybe he did a GOOD thing when he tempted Eve with the apple; who objects that God is over-reacting to a first offense; who knows what it is to fall but not what it is to be comforted after the fact...)
--just goes ahead and falls in love with him about it.
As for Crowley --I barely need to explain him, right? People have been making the 'didn't the serpent actually do us a solid?' argument for centuries. But if I'm going to quote one of them, it may as well be the one Neil Gaiman wrote ficlet about:
"If the account given in Genesis is really true, ought we not, after all, to thank this serpent? He was the first schoolmaster, the first advocate of learning, the first enemy of ignorance, the first to whisper in human ears the sacred word liberty, the creator of ambition, the author of modesty, of inquiry, of doubt, of investigation, of progress and of civilization." --Robert G. Ingersoll
The first to ask questions.
Even beyond flattering literary interpretation, we know that Crowley is, so often, discreetly running damage control on the machinations of Heaven and Hell. When he can get away with it. Occasionally, when he can't (1827).
And Aziraphale loves him for it, too. Loves him back.
And so this romance plays out over millennia, where they fall in love with each other but also the world, because of each other and because of the world. But it begins in Eden. Where, instead of acting as the first Earthly example of Divine/Diabolical collusion and callousness--
(other examples --the flood; the bet with Satan; the back channels; the exchange of Holy Water and Hellfire; and on and on...)
--they refuse. Without even necessarily knowing they're doing it, they just refuse. Refuse to trivialize human life, and refuse to hate each other.
To write a story about the Serpent and the Sword falling in love is to write a story about transgression.
Not just in the sense that they are a demon and an angel, and it's ~forbidden. That's part of it, yeah, but the greater part of it is that they are THIS demon and angel, in particular. From The Real Bible's Book of Genesis, in the chapter where man falls.
It's the sort of thing you write and laugh. And then you look at it. And you think. And then you frown, and you sit up a little straighter. And you think.
And then you keep writing.
And what emerges hits you like a goddamn truck.
(...A lot of Pratchett reads that way. I believe Gaiman when he says Pratchett would have been happy with the romance, by the way. I really really do).
It's a story about transgression, about love as transgression. They break the rules by loving each other, by loving creation, and by rejecting the hatred and hypocrisy that would have triangulated them as a unified blow against humanity, before humanity had even really got started. And yeah, hell, it's a queer romance too, just to really drive the point home (oh, that!!! THAT!!!)
...I could spend a long time wildly gesturing at this and never be satisfied. Instead of watching me do that (I'll spare you), please look at this gif:
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I love this shot so much.
Look at Eve and Crowley moving, at the same time in the same direction, towards their respective wielders of the flaming sword. Adam reaches out and takes her hand; Aziraphale reaches out and covers him with a wing.
You know what a shot like that establishes? Likeness. Commonality. Kinship.
"Our side" was never just Crowley and Aziraphale. Crowley says as much at the end of season 1 ("--all of us against all of them."). From the beginning, "our side" was Crowley, Aziraphale, and every single human being. Lately that's around 8 billion, but once upon a time it was just two other people. Another couple. The primeval mother and father.
But Adam and Eve die, eventually. Humanity grows without them. It's Crowley and Aziraphale who remain, and who protect it. Who...oversee it's upbringing.
Godfathers. Sort of.
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inupibaldspot · 7 months
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Walk him like a dog
Pairing: Gojo Satoru x Reader
Note ₊˚⊹♡ : The first year trio are watching Gojo who is completely head over heels for you.
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To the world, Gojo Satoru is the strongest but to the people who know him Gojo Satoru is a menace.
When he was in high school, he was a different breed. Yaga could not sleep at times from all the stress Gojo would cause; be it either an earful from the higher ups or checking the news only to find out there had been an explosion conveniently where Gojo’s mission was assigned.
Sometimes he would get pictured sent to him by the problem student himself, a picture with a beaten up enemy and Gojo winking at the camera with a note saying ‘Yay~ another victory! I mean it’s as normal as breathing for me (*ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ꕤ*.゚’
Even when Yaga would use his authority and lecture him, sometimes Gojo Satoru would not listen; be it simply ignoring or rebutting it with his opinion— an opinion no one asks for.
And when that happens, Yaga would pull out his secret weapon ‘You’! He didn’t use this card all the time but at time Gojo was simply so uncooperative, he had to! Any word coming from you would be listened to by him as if it were law. Right now, at the age of 28 he seemed to have matured- no stopped acting as childish and Yaga didn’t have to rely on you so often.
That same Yaga watches from the window at his new first years— Kugisaki Nobara, Itadori Yuji and Fushiguro Megumi— behind a bush, hiding peeking over to you and Gojo who were on a bench.
“Ah…” Kugisaki sweat dropped at the pair. “Gojo-sensei is so smitten.” She said observing at how you were simply reading a book, as Gojo yaps away but one thing very obvious was the gentle look he gave you.
When you finally looked Gojo’s way, their white haired teacher suddenly stops, they notice a faint blush peeping under his blindfolds and when he does starts talking he stammers. THE Gojo Satoru was stammering, biting his tongue simply because you were looking at him.
“Kugisaki, let’s leave.” Itadori covers his eyes, his right eye peeps through the cracks of his fingers. “Sensei is doing such a bad job at flirting with y/n, I’m getting embarrassed.”
Kugisaki lifts her hands and grabs the collar of Itadori’s and starts shaking it. “This is the closest we’re getting to romance in this school and I want to be the witness.” She grits her teeth.
Just then Nanami walks along the path, making the pair look over. You smile as you call out. “Nanami-kun.”
Nanami stops and waits as you stand from your bench, walking over to greet him. The students stare; as soon as you got off the bench and walks Gojo follows suit not even a millisecond later.
Kugisaki cringes. “He is like a puppy…”
They could vaguely hear Gojo start to make fun of Nanami, but when you think his ‘joke’ was a slight bit too harsh; they watch you give Gojo a side eye and almost immediately their teacher shuts up.
‘y/n has the strongest sorcerer at the palm of their hands .’ Kugisaki and Itadori collectively thought.
Before Kugisaki could comment she senses a small wet feeling on her forehead, then another and then she was drowning in it. Suddenly it started raining.
“Geh. Let’s get out of here.” Kugisaki says as she quickly brought her hands up to cover her bangs. “I don’t want my hair to frizz up.”
Itadori and Fushiguro follows her lead as they walk away to the nearby building and when they did reach shelter, Kugisaki quickly turns around to check on their teacher and you, a fellow sorcerer.
Her mouth drops slightly taking in the situation at hand, Nanami was no where in sight. She assumes he left because of the rain too.
But that wasn’t the focus.
Her eyes were focused on Gojo and you, holding hands smiling fondly at each other, she also noted that he was using ‘Infinity’ to not get wet from the rain.
Gojo laughs as he raises one of your hands high which makes you let out laugh, but complies as you proceed to twirl. As soon as you make two twirls, their teacher places his hands on your face as his leans down, his lips on yours.
Kugisaki and Itadori squeal and blushes at the intimate scene infront of them, jumping. “Sensei, finally did it! He kissed y/n—!” Itadori smiles.
They watch you smile into the kiss and you bring your hands up behind his neck, slowly trailing them into his hair, deepening the kiss.
“I’m so happy,Kugisaki.” Itadori wipes his tears with the back of his hands, extremely happy for his teacher’s happiness and success in his love life.
“I don’t know why you guys are making such a fuss.” Fushiguro finally decides to add into the antics of his classmates.
“Huh?” Kugisaki quickly turns and glares at the dark haired man. ”Is your heart made of stone or something,Fushiguro?”
“Yeah! I heard Gojo-sensei basically raised you.” Itadori chirps in. “You should be more happy for him.”
Kugisaki nods in agreement.
“I mean…” Fushiguro sighs as his hands are up massaging his temple, mentally preparing for the outburst to come.
“They’re married…”
“Ehhhhh???”
Reblogs, like and comment are appreciated! Love this work? out other here
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reyalvr · 3 months
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SHE’S MINE | 00
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CATCH ME, I’VE FALLEN IN LOVE FOR THE FIRST TIME.
synopsis ┊ thrust into the spotlight, ken sato had easily become the next big thing tokyo had seen in decades. alongside his fame came the inevitable string of rumors, of which sprung forth scandals and discrediting information against his image. of course the obvious and most rational solution would be to address them like every other celebrity, but this was ken sato; nothing would ever be rational with him, which is how you wound up with a ring on your finger and the sato name in your papers.
genre ┊ fake dating, fake marriage, idiots-to-lovers, friends-to-lovers, mild angst, chaotic fluff, smut
pairing ┊ ken sato x fem-PA!reader, ken sato x fake-wife!reader
warnings ┊ mild cursing, eventual smut, mentions of alcohol, all events in ultraman: rising take place a year after kenji moves back to japan, RUMORS isn’t related to anything that happens in this series
word count ┊ 798
author’s note ┊ YAY i finally wrote it! i really love the fake dating/marriage convenience trope and i’ve been itching to write it with kenji. this is highly inspired by one my favorite books of all time, terms & conditions by lauren asher! if you enjoy fake dating i highly recommend reading it. as mentioned at the top, this is only the prologue! i'll be putting out part one and the series masterlist asap hehe... as always, happy reading!
prev. | next
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SOMETIMES YOU WONDERED IF ANYTHING YOU SAID EVER STUCK WITH KEN. For the past year and a half, you had the supposed “dream life” that every assistant yearned for. It confused you, really, as you tried to ponder on what part of your job was envious. Were the late nights drafting NDA breaches so desirable? What about the press statements after altercations, were those résumé worthy? You let out a deep sigh as you watched Ken from the TV in his dressing room, crossing your arms as you sunk deeper into the couch.
He was on a press tour for his latest collaboration, his overconfident persona charming everyone left and right. You had to physically stop yourself from rolling your eyes when he used his signature flair to charm the show’s host. At least he was sticking to the script… for the most part. He wore the product, threw in a few adlibs, and of course, flirted. Be it a talk show host or a random photographer on the street, Ken always found a way to leave people smitten with him- save except you. 
It’s not like you were actively trying to hate him, he just made it so easy. At first you thought it was just some awkward phase, like he was just trying to adjust to working with a new team. But then he just kept doing the same things over and over again. A brawl with an opposing team member? Just another Sunday night. A rumor about having a fling with yet another supermodel? Sounds just about right. 
“I mean of course I have to thank my team,” Ken’s voice cut through your train of thought. “It was a dream of mine to play for the Giants as a kid, now I actually get to do it.”
Tone it down, asshole. You thought to yourself, noting the sarcasm laced in his words. Of course the general public wouldn’t have caught on, but you had no doubt his coach and the other players would. Then again, he’d been relatively untouchable because of his rank in the sports world. You poked your tongue into your cheek, shaking your head as you sat through the rest of his interview. The clock on the wall counted down the remaining time, the bright red numbers casting a reflection on the screen. Two minutes left, and all he had to do was to keep the act up…
…Until he didn’t. Nothing could’ve prepared you for what was about to happen next. 
“Now I don’t want to hold here any longer, but you know I have to ask it,” The host teased, almost like an overexcited child ready to tattle. “Any special someone back home?” 
Ken chuckled, just like he usually did when asked the question. “Cheeky question,” He paused and grinned, his eyebrow raised slightly as he shrugged his shoulders. “What if there was?” 
“Well, is there?” The host pushed, his tone eager to have the Ken Sato answer such a juicy question. He gestured toward the crowd before he continued. “I mean there are a lot of fans here today who would love to know more…” 
“Yeah? And if I said yes, then what?” He replied, his smile growing brighter and his eyes shining. 
The crowd cheered even harder, itching to find out the truth. You shared the same sentiments, trying to figure out what the hell Ken was up to now. Did he have a girlfriend? If he did, why didn’t anyone know about it? You stood up straight now, your right hand deathly gripping the remote. What the hell do you have up your sleeve, Kenji Sato? Your inner voice seemed to yell as you waited for him to speak up. 
“I mean only time will tell, yeah?” The host replied, leaning back in his seat. “C’mon Ken, it’s not nice to keep secrets.”
Ken mimicked the host’s moves, leaning back into his sofa chair as well. He shrugged his shoulders, licking his lips as he fiddled with his fingers. He bit the inside of his cheek, and though it was brief you caught it. You knew that look; his look of contemplation. Your grip on the remote was still taut as your breathing seemed to quicken the longer he waited. Granted it was only a few seconds, but those seconds felt like hours. 
He tilted his head slightly then, his eyes staring directly at the camera. It slowly zoomed closer to focus entirely on him, and he let out a small laugh before he finally replied. His gaze was strong, and it almost felt like he was actually looking at you.
“Yeah, yeah I do.” He finally said, throwing in a lovesick smile for good measure. “And she’s the best damn thing in my life right now.”
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reyalvr © 2024 … do not repost, alter, or steal my work.
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satoruxx · 11 months
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thinking about since canonically Geto is more popular with girls than Gojo he’s gotten used to them looking past him to get to Geto but what if Gojo and Geto are out for drinks with the other teachers one night and he gets approached by the reader but he thinks she’s just coming over to ask him for Geto’s number and so he prepares his ‘responsible best friend’ act and then SHE ASKS ABOUT HIM INSTEAD, ALL BLUSHY AND STUFF BECAUSE HE LOOKED LIKE HE WAS GONNA BRUSH HER OFF
AHH I LOVE HIM SM 😔😔😔
pairing: gojo satoru x reader | 1k words summary: fluff, pining, reader is a simp but same, satoru is a good wingman but he needs attention too, au ig bc suguru's alive LMAO, idiots in love? rheya's note: oh my god shut up this is so cute and YOU'RE ABSOLUTELY RIGHT??? i can just imagine that he's gotten so used to judging whether or not the person is even worth suguru's attention before deciding to pass on his info...and after a while his brain just defaults to thinking that everyone wants suguru but he FORGETS that there are gojo girlies out there (me asf) !! thanks for the ask nonnie babes i love this idea so so much <33
OK SO
it's obvious that there are quite a few women at the bar eyeing the group. young, attractive teachers spending an evening trying to relax and take their minds off of the stress of jujutsu work. nanami is in deep conversation with shoko about something while ijichi quietly listens. further down the table utahime is quietly sipping her drink while mei mei orders another. shoko makes a comment and suguru bursts into unabashed laughter.
the flush of alcohol dusts over each of their cheeks, but satoru remans the only one who has barely touched his glass, the sting of the bitterness a little too harsh for him to enjoy. he opts for instead letting his eyes roam over the faces in the crowd, taking little notice of all the eyes and smiles sent in their direction.
well until he notices you anyway.
you're already looking in his direction curiously, face illuminated by the dim lighting of the bar as your friends giggle around you. when his eyes lock with yours, you immediately tear your gaze away, trying to play it off by immediately delving into conversation, though satoru can tell that there's a flush crawling up your neck now.
he doesn't look away though, too caught up in the crinkle of your eyes and the smile lines that grace your face as you laugh at something. a minute later you're looking back in their direction, and when you catch him staring, you turn away yet again.
satoru glances to his side, knowing that you're probably watching suguru take a sip of his drink and most likely falling for his charming smile.
typical and so predictable.
some time passes like this. you'll look, and turn away, and satoru will watch you do it over and over again. it isn't until a while later that satoru catches your friends pushing your shoulders and giggling, and he knows that they're urging you to come up and ask about suguru. you're shaking your head, the nervousness clear as day as your brows pinch. but eventually you succumb to peer pressure and stand up from your table, taking anxious strides towards him.
and usually, satoru will make a face or turn his back or do something to look as unapproachable as possible. because almost every person who comes up asking for suguru's contact info has been obnoxious as hell.
but you're quite pretty and you look sweet enough, and he doesn't think it'd be right to deter you.
suguru would probably like you too.
so satoru decides to let you try at least, and if you seem to be as nice as you look maybe he'd bridge the gap between you and his best friend.
you make your way up to him, and as soon as he finally gets a good look at you he's thinking you're a lot prettier up close.
dammit.
"hi," you say, face hot as you try your best to maintain steady eye contact with him. you look so nervous, fidgeting with the fabric of your clothes as you attempt to strike up conversation, and he doesn't have it in him to watch you struggle.
"yeah i can give you his number," he says, voice clipped as he tries to hide the disappointment in it. you watch him grab a napkin and begin scribbling something down, confusion clear as he hands you the digits.
"um…?" you look at the napkin and then at him. "sorry, whose number is this?"
satoru balks, lips parting as he mirrors your confusion. "uh…suguru's? the guy behind me?"
realization dawns on your face and you shift your weight from foot to foot.
"oh actually," you suck your teeth nervously, trying to hide behind an awkward little smile. "i came to talk to you."
satoru can only blink, cerulean eyes widening behind his glasses as he stares at you in surprise.
you take his silence as a bad sign, shoulders dropping and embarrassment settling in your frown as you look anywhere but his face. "s-sorry if that's weird. i don't wanna make you uncomfortable or anything so-"
he's grinning before he can stop himself, heart dangerously swelling with affection as he motions toward the empty stool next to him. "not weird at all."
the pleasant surprise on your face makes him bite back a chuckle, and you take the seat. "huh...i wasn't expecting you to be okay with it."
satoru raises a brow curiously, tilting his head. "why not?"
you shrug with a careless grin. "i had a feeling you were gonna brush me off from the moment i first looked over."
satoru winces, and he can practically feel suguru's knowing smirk on his back. he chooses to ignore that for now, eyes trailing over the mirth in your expression, and he can only smile helplessly. "no way in hell."
your laugh comes instantly, sweet and bright, and you take it as a sign to continue talking. satoru listens on, sipping his drink to hide his giddy smile and ignoring the sting of bitterness once again.
honestly, with the amount of sweetness he's just found, satoru would tolerate as much bitterness as he needed to.
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