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tboygareth · 8 months

Text

the anatomy of a home run

beta and editing by the incomparable @steves-strapcollection <3

First Base

The first time they fool around, it’s not so much fooling around as it is an impulsive makeout session wherein Eddie finds himself sat astride Steve’s lap with his hands in his hair. Steve’s hands are fisted in Eddie’s tee shirt and they’re panting into each other’s mouths, sucking on each other’s lips and tongues and swallowing one another’s moans, and Eddie’s cock is straining against his fly so hard it’s a fucking miracle the zipper hasn’t popped.

Eddie doesn’t know shit about baseball but he’s pretty sure this is first base. Right?

They’re not touching each other, not really, not in a way that matters, but the air between them is hot and sticky, the summer humidity clinging to their skin. Eddie’s hair is plastered to the back of his neck with sweat while Steve’s mouth learns the shape of his throat and his teeth scrape lightly across his Adam’s apple.

If Eddie were to spread his legs a little more, if he were to fully sit down in Steve’s lap, he’d have to live with the knowledge forever that Steve is erect beneath him. For now, he can’t handle that. He can’t cope with the knowing, with his own anxieties that he’s never gone further than this before, that at the rate they’re going he’s eventually going to get to watch Steve come under his hands or his mouth or fuck, maybe on his cock.

“Steve,” he groans, pulling back a little as Steve’s hand creeps beneath the collar of Eddie’s shirt to rest against the notch in his throat. “Fuck, sweetheart, much as I’d love to keep doing this… don’t you have a job to get to? A Robin to pick up?”

Steve’s voice comes out as something between a growl and a purr, his teeth latching onto the bolt of Eddie’s jaw and he murmurs, “When did you become the responsible one?”

“I’m gonna be so very honest with you, Stevie, I’m mostly just nervous I’m gonna bust in my jeans if we keep going.”

With a mean smile, Steve grips Eddie’s hips and presses them firmly together. The hard line of Steve’s cock drags over Eddie’s and punches a whine from one of them - Eddie, probably - and if they don’t put a stop to this soon the single will turn into a double and then Eddie’ll hit a home fucking run all over this stupid threadbare couch that Wayne managed to save from the old trailer.

Just when Eddie’s ready to stop Steve, to tell him it’s time for them to dial it back and pick this up another time when Steve doesn’t have a clock ticking down to his scheduled shift, Steve pats him on the thigh and starts to push him up. He’s sighing unhappily as he does it, like this is the last thing he wants, too, but responsibilities are starting to outweigh desire and y’know what? Eddie’s pretty fucking proud of their self control, even if he is still hard as a rock in his jeans.

“Come over tonight?” Steve asks as he stands and adjusts his monster of a cock in his own jeans. “We can pick this back up then?”

Eddie wants to ask, What is this? What are we? What does this mean to you?

What he says instead is, “Sure. Gonna show me second base?”

Steve captures his mouth in another hard, wet kiss and murmurs, “Keep talkin’ baseball to me, babe. You’ve got no idea how hot it makes me.”

“Of course it fucking does,” Eddie huffs. “Get to work, slugger, I’ll see you tonight.”

***

Second Base

Eddie realizes he’s not gonna make it past second base tonight the moment Steve gets his hand on his cock. They barely manage to get Eddie’s jeans and boxers down. They’re hanging off of one of Eddie’s legs now and Steve’s got him laid out on the bed, his fingers pressing into the give of Eddie’s thighs, spreading them apart for him to lie between them, while his mouth zeroes in on that spot on his throat that made Eddie keen earlier.

Steve’s hand is big and firm and warm when his fingers wrap around Eddie’s dick and there are fucking stars dancing behind his eyes, his voice coming out in broken whimpers and he finds himself spreading even further for Steve. He wants to touch him, wants to guide Steve’s cock to his hole and beg to be fucked dry if that what it takes to get him inside.

Eddie’s hands, clumsy and distracted, tug at the fly of Steve’s jeans to draw him out and stroke him -- hopefully, god fucking willing -- at the same rhythm that Steve is stroking him. When he finally manages to shove Steve’s pants down to bunch around his thighs and gets his hand on him -- the skin of his cock smooth and hard beneath his palm -- Steve hisses and nips hard at the skin of Eddie’s neck.

Steve pulls away, just a little, just enough to spit on his fucking hand before getting back to work on Eddie’s cock, and Eddie barks out something that might have been fuck or it might have been Steve’s name but there’s too much ringing in his ears to be sure. Steve is leaking all over him, the sound of his hand stroking through the precome nearly as loud as their panting breaths.

“Faster,” Steve breathes against Eddie’s neck, “give it a twist near the head, baby, yeah fuck that’s it. ”

“Fuck,” Eddie groans. He tosses his head back, the hot breath on his throat making him dizzy and warm.

Steve’s pace is quick and dirty, the pressure relentless as he draws little noises out of Eddie on every upstroke. He digs his thumb into the slit of Eddie’s cock and there’s starbursts in his head with the intensity of it.

“There’s no fuckin’ way you never did this before,” he whines, and Steve’s breath on his throat comes out in a huff of a laugh, followed by a quick lick and kiss to the pulse point there.

“Just on myself,” Steve insists. “ Fuck, Eddie. So hot, you’re so fucking hot. Leaking everywhere for me like this. So wet.”

Eddie tries to tell him, You too, but it comes out garbled, unintelligible nonsense around a broken off cry when Steve tightens his grip and quickens his pace.

“Not -- hah, oh god -- not gonna last, Eds. Your hand -- fuck -- keep thinkin’ about how I’m gonna come all over your hand.”

“ Oh, fuck yeah, Stevie. Fuckin’ paint me with it, sweetheart, shit. ”

Steve’s hips are moving now, thrusting to meet Eddie’s strokes and Eddie’s hyper aware of his own hips doing just the same. The wet tip of Steve’s cockhead brushes up against Eddie’s and leaves a slick trail of precome behind to mix with his own. Eddie’s head is swimming, the heavy feeling in his gut tightening as his release draws closer, closer.

Steve kisses him, their tongues meeting in the scant space between their lips, and it’s so brief Eddie thinks it might not have even really been a kiss at all because then Steve is using his other hand -- the one not currently bringing Eddie’s entire world to its fucking knees -- to push his tee shirt up to rest at the dip in his throat. Steve’s mouth moves to bite at his chest, lick and suck at Eddie’s nipple as they thrust against one another.

Eddie’s free hand fists into the soft silky hair there and holds Steve in place, a silent plea for more attention to that nipple and Steve gets it, draws it into his mouth and adds teeth.

“Oh, fuck, Steve, yeah -- yeah, god, shit, just -- just like that, fuck! ”

“Gonna come?” Steve asks. “Gonna -- Eds, you gonna come with me? Close, baby, so close.”

“Yeah, yeah me too. Just a little more.”

“Can’t wait to fuck you. Can’t wait to get inside you, Eds, make you scream my name.”

“ God. ”

The rhythm of Steve’s hips is beginning to stutter and everything in Eddie’s brain is abandoning ship, rushing to his dick where he’s sure it’s about to spurt out all over Steve, paint him with jizz and brain matter and every ounce of fluid in his fucking body at this point. He’s gonna say something stupid, gonna tell Steve that he fuckin’ loves him or some shit because he’s never been this fucking keyed up before.

He meets Steve for a kiss again, and it’s wet and sloppy and Steve is swallowing the noises Eddie’s making -- his whimpers and his whines and his desperate moans -- and giving those sounds right back to him in kind.

“Here, here,” Steve whispers, frantic, knocking Eddie’s hand away from his cock so that he can take them both in his massive hand and Eddie sees fucking stars.

Steve’s cock, hot and smooth and weeping at the tip, is dragging along the length of Eddie’s own, the head catching on Eddie’s and smearing their precome together. Steve lets loose this fucking whimper, so raw and fucked out it barely even sounds like him at all, and Eddie feels the way his cock twitches a split second before the hot dampness of his release splashes against Eddie’s stomach, his pubic hair, the head of his dick, and then Eddie is throwing his head back with a shout to empty himself into Steve’s hand.

It comes in fucking waves. Eddie’s never come this hard in his life. He feels like he might be turning inside out from the force of it, wrung dry, every muscle in his body pulled taut like a drum.

“ Holy Christ, ” Eddie breathes in the aftermath, his head swimming and his fingers tingling. His mouth is dry and he’s hot all over. His muscles throb and their combined spend on his skin is cooling, feels a little gross but goddamn if it’s not the hottest thing Eddie has ever experienced.

“Yeah,” Steve agrees, flopping onto the bed beside him. “Holy Christ, Eds. Why weren’t we doing this months ago? ”

“Thought you were fuckin’ straight.”

“Aren’t you glad I’m not?”

“Still trying to wrap my fuckin’ head around it, honestly.”

“I meant it,” Steve says quietly. “I really do wanna fuck you.”

“Take a guy to dinner first, though, huh?” Eddie jokes.

“Mmm, maybe I will. Seafood or Italian?”

“Seafood. I can put away some crab legs.”

Steve makes a face. “Bet you look so sexy with melted butter all over your mouth.”

“Oh, I’m sure. ”

They don’t talk about how it’d be dangerous for them to go out on a very public date, or how they’re going to tell the others about this development in their friendship. They don’t talk about what they are. They laugh about the drying cum on Eddie’s skin, and the way Steve shook apart when he climaxed, and the size of Steve’s cock in comparison to Eddie’s.

But they steer clear of feelings. They steer clear of vulnerability.

Eddie will have to tell Steve eventually that he’s got very real feelings here, that he wants Steve to be his boyfriend and not just a buddy he fucks around with, but he figures he can test those waters out a little later, maybe after he’s gotten Steve’s cock in his mouth. Or after they go all the way. If he’s gonna destroy their friendship he might as well lose his virginity first, right?

This is gonna suck when Steve inevitably tells him he doesn’t feel the same way.

***

Third Base

Eddie’s not entirely sure how this is supposed to work. He’s never sucked a dick before in his life. He’s thought about it, fantasized about it all the way back in the day when his older friends were starting to get their first girlfriends and getting sucked off for the first time, but… the reality of it is so much different than his fantasies.

For one, Steve’s cock is… well, massive might be overselling it a little bit. It’s sure as shit not small, though. Eddie’s worried he might have to actually unhinge his jaw like a weird snake creature just to get him in his mouth all the way. For another thing… what’s Eddie gonna do when Steve comes? Will he take it in his mouth, swallow it down? Is he supposed to? What if he gags on it? What if it tastes terrible and makes him choke?

When the time comes, though, Eddie’s worry is stripped from him with the quickness of his own jeans being stripped from his thighs and tossed across the room.

He’s barely even hard yet, and Steve’s mouth is enveloping him in wet heat.

“Fuck, Stevie, I was gonna suck you off.”

“You can do me next,” Steve tells him, drawing off enough to stroke him to full hardness before getting back to work. “Been dying to get my mouth on you for ages.”

Oh, fuck, Eddie is going to make a fool out of himself here. He’s barely been hard for a full minute and already the tug in his gut is telling him it’s almost time, that he’s going to come in Steve’s mouth before they’ve even really gotten started here.

“Fuck, Stevie. Not gonna last, sweetheart, it’s so -- Jesus fuck, there! ”

Steve pulls back, gives Eddie some relief as he squeezes the base of his dick.

“That good?” Steve asks, his smirk cocky and teasing.

“Don’t get a big head about it, okay?”

Steve is kneeling between his legs, and from his place there he looks up at Eddie from beneath those long beautiful eyelashes, Eddie’s cock resting against his bottom lip, and he maintains eye contact as he presses the tip of his tongue to Eddie’s slit.

“Ah, fuck.”

“Mmm, first time, huh?”

Eddie says, “Fuck you,” but it comes out breathless, his voice a little wrecked, and Steve chuckles deep in his chest before taking Eddie to the fucking hilt again.

Eddie throws his head back, closes his eyes, his hand resting gently in Steve’s hair as he just gives himself over to wet heat and suction.

He does his best not to thrust into Steve’s throat, but it’s so hard. Steve’s drooling on him, pearly strings of spit connecting his lips to the tight ring of his fingers where he holds Eddie’s cock steady. It’s a fucking sight when Eddie’s brave enough to actually look at him.

And the sounds Steve is making -- the wet squelch of his mouth around Eddie’s dick, the low groans in the back of his throat when Eddie twitches for him, the literal fucking slurping noises as he applies that delicious fucking suction to the head -- they’re all threatening to do Eddie in once and for all.

Eddie’s not entirely sure how long it’s been -- might be five minutes, might be fucking two seconds for all he knows -- but it becomes very clear very quickly that Eddie’s gonna blow. He hears himself mumble out a vague warning as if from far away, grabbing at Steve’s hair and shoulders to push him back rather than come in his mouth but Steve holds firm, sucks him down to the root of his cock and opens his throat.

Steve gags on him and that’s what fucking does it. Eddie’s vision goes white and he cries out when the coil in his gut finally snaps. His eyes cross and his hips stutter and he floods Steve’s mouth with his spunk but Steve… Steve moans like it’s the nectar of the gods and he drinks Eddie down, his throat bobbing as he swallows, his lips still wrapped tightly around the head of Eddie’s dick.

When it’s over, after Steve has milked the last of Eddie’s release from him and he’s beginning to get too sensitive to let it go on, Eddie pushes him back and collapses onto Steve’s bed.

“Jesus,” he pants. “ Shit, Steve, where’d you learn to do that?”

“Does it matter? Just made you come in…” he checks his watch, “three minutes.”

“Rub it in, why don’t you?” Eddie should probably be embarrassed at how quickly he came, but he isn’t. “Take it as a compliment, alright?”

“Oh, I do. You lasted longer than I did my first time.”

“Yeah? King Steve comes early, then, does he?”

“Wanna test that theory?”

“I don’t… I don’t think I’m gonna be any good at it,” Eddie admits quietly. “Especially, like… I’ve never…”

“Me either” Steve shrugs.

“Yeah, but you’ve received a lot of blowjobs, so.”

“I have, but…” Steve pauses, like he’s not sure he wants to say what he’s about to. “I haven’t had one from you. I think… even if you aren’t experienced, I think it’ll probably be the best one I’ve had. Because, like… it’s you. ”

Eddie scoffs. “I bet you say that to all the boys.”

“Told you already, Eds,” Steve says, getting on the bed to take Eddie’s mouth in a kiss. “Just you. Always just you.”

Even as he presses Steve to his back and pops the fly of his jeans, Eddie is nervous. Even as he drags those jeans down Steve’s thighs, his heart is racing. Even as he spreads Steve’s legs on either side of his own body, Eddie can’t fucking believe this is happening. He strokes Steve a little bit, occupies their mouths with more kissing while he works up the nerve to finally get him in his mouth.

Eddie’s going to be terrible at this.

He puts his all into it anyway. What he lacks in experience, he is determined to make up for in sheer enthusiasm alone, so he stores his anxiety away in the back of his mind and he gets to work. He swallows Steve down as far as his gag reflex will let him -- barely halfway down his fucking shaft, apparently -- and he listens to Steve groan above him.

“So warm, baby,” Steve whispers. “Use your tongue.”

Glad for the direction, Eddie uses the flat of his tongue to stroke up the underside of Steve’s cock, pleased when Steve makes a little noise of pleasure above him. He sucks on the head and Steve jerks a little bit. He presses the tip of his tongue into the slit of Steve’s cock, the way Steve did for him, and there’s a hand tightening in Eddie’s hair.

Oh, so he likes that.

Eddie does it again before sliding his mouth a little further down and doing his level best to open his throat but he gags anyway, and the sensation must do something for Steve because his dick twitches out a blurt of precome against the back of Eddie’s tongue.

Eddie moves, bobbing his head and licking at the glans of Steve’s dick and Steve is chanting yeah, yeah, yeah above him in time with his movements. His back is arching a little bit, his head thrown back, and the hand not in Eddie’s hair is fisted in his blanket like he’s holding on for dear life.

He takes Steve down again, as far as he can, and Steve’s moan when he gags again is high pitched and tightly wound.

“Eddie, oh my god, fuck, you’re -- you’re gonna make me come, babe.”

Eddie’s heart leaps in his chest at the pet name. He loves that -- loves it when Steve calls him babe.

Eddie pulls back, focuses a little more on the head again, and Steve’s hips actually do begin to buck up to shove his cock deeper in Eddie’s mouth. Eddie sucks hard, and Steve cries out, goes tense, his voice loud and frantic as he warns Eddie.

“Now, now now now, Eds, I’m --”

And he does. And Eddie takes it. It tastes fucking awful but Eddie swallows it anyway, each heavy spurt hot and slick on his tongue. He gags through it and it makes Steve whine even as he pulls his softening cock from Eddie’s mouth.

“Beautiful,” Steve whispers. He sits up and reaches for Eddie, pulls him to crawl up his body until he’s straddling Steve’s hips and kissing him deeply, the taste of them mingling in the kiss and making Eddie hot all over again.

“God, Eds, you’re so good, so fucking good for me,” Steve whispers against the kiss. “Wanna do this with you forever, babe. Forever. Fuck. I’m all yours, Eds.”

Eddie could cry at the declaration. He is so certain it’s just the orgasm afterglow talking, that Steve can’t possibly feel that way for real, but god, if there was ever a chance for Eddie to reciprocate out loud, it’s now.

“Forever,” Eddie hears himself say, echoing the sentiment, and Steve is dragging the shirts off of both their backs and tucking them beneath the covers on his big, soft bed. He pulls Eddie close, their lips meeting again and again, their legs tangling and knees knocking together. “Think I love you, Stevie.”

Steve brushes the hair away from Eddie’s face and whispers, “Tell me again tomorrow when you’re not riding the third base high and I might believe you.”

“I mean it,” Eddie insists, doing everything he can to inject as much confidence and certainty into his voice as he can. “Been meanin’ to tell you for… for weeks, okay? I just… you’re outta my league, Harrington.”

Steve kisses him again, groaning as he does. “You gotta stop with these baseball metaphors. I can’t get it up again yet but you’re makin’ me wanna try.”

***

The Home Run

When Eddie was fourteen, he learned the chords and lyrics to MeatLoaf’s Paradise by the Dashboard Light, and that’s been the extent of his baseball knowledge, intentionally, ever since. He’s having flashbacks now, the lyrics of that song sitting heavily in his head and in his gut as Steve drags him by the shirt to the backseat of the Beamer.

It’s a humid night, the rain showers from earlier in the day did nothing to cool it down and made the air muggy and thick, even all the way out here on the edge of town where they’re parked. They’ve been sitting in the car in the field out past Merrill’s famous pumpkin patch for the better part of two or three hours, just talking and trying to figure out where their relationship stands.

Eddie came clean earlier, told Steve he meant it the other night after they’d blown each other, when he told Steve that he loved him. It’s been building and building in him for months, since the moments of quiet while they waited for the world to end back in March. They’d talked about the perception of Steve’s straightness, how he’d always had really intense friendships with other boys and how in retrospect now he can see them for the crushes they were.

And then they’d gotten down to making out. And they’d undone one another’s flies and gotten their hands on each other, panting and moaning into their kisses over the gearshift. And the whole time, Eddie couldn’t stop thinking about that stupid song, the baseball interlude part with the announcer declaring the characters safe at second base while they made out in the car.

And now, here’s Steve, climbing over the center console to the backseat and dragging Eddie with him. It’s a tight fit back here, the windows cracked and the engine off, keys still hanging from the ignition. It’s humid in the car, smells like sweat and Steve’s expensive shampoo, and Eddie’s tee shirt is a little damp when Steve peels it off of him.

Steve drags his own shirt over his head too, punching the roof of the car with a sharp curse as he does, and Eddie’s frantic with the way he shoves his jeans and boxers off of one leg. Steve elbows him hard in the hip while he’s pushing his own jeans down far enough for his cock to spring free, and then Eddie throws one leg over Steve’s lap to straddle him.

Just like the first time they made out. This time, with far less fabric between them.

“Ready to hit this home run, sweetheart?”

Steve reaches around his to dip his hand into the pocket on the back of the passenger seat and pulls back with an unopened bottle of lube.

“Think we can make it a grand slam,” he says as he pops the seal on the bottle and pours it over his fingers.

It’s a tight squeeze, getting Steve’s hand between them to creep underneath, where he pets and prods behind Eddie’s balls in search of his hole. Eddie jumps a little when he finds it, one slick finger rubbing circles over the tight, hairy clench of muscle he finds there. Eddie’s gazing down at him, and Steve is gazing right back up at Eddie, and his pupils go wide as he sinks his finger inside of him. The sensation makes Eddie gasp, his jaw dropping in surprise at the size of just one of those fingers as it slides home.

“Okay?” Steve asks in a whisper. He’s inside Eddie to the last knuckle, not moving, and Eddie can feel the way his second finger is curled against the skin of his asscrack right beside the first.

Eddie can’t find his breath, nods encouragingly for Steve to keep going, to move his finger, and Steve does. It slides out, and back in, and back out and inside again, and Eddie can feel the way his body is relaxing around it, the lube easing the way. Steve takes his cock in his other hand and strokes Eddie to keep him hard, and he whispers something but Eddie’s ears are full of cotton. He nods anyway, like he actually fuckin’ heard him, and a moan punches out of him when that second finger presses in beside the first.

It’s a stretch and a burn and Eddie is holding onto Steve’s shoulders for dear life as sweat pools in his collar bones and on his upper lip. Eddie tilts his hips back a little, seeking friction, and Steve begins to move the way he was before when it was just one finger, but this time every time he pulls back he spreads his fingers to open Eddie’s hole up more. Eddie can feel the way his pulse quickens with each outward stroke of those clever fingers and before he knows it he’s moving, fucking himself on them, clutching Steve’s wrist to hold him where he wants him while he takes and takes and takes.

“More,” Eddie hears himself say, and it comes out whiny, almost demanding, but Steve’s mouth finds Eddie’s throat at the same moment he shoves a third finger into Eddie’s asshole. He doesn’t hesitate anymore, thrusting those fucking fingers in and out and in and out, spreading them and pressing deep and curling them in a way that makes Eddie breathless with need, desperate for even more of that stretch and burn.

His hips are urgent, pressing down onto Steve’s fingers and up into the circle of his fist around his cock. Peering down to Steve’s lap, Eddie’s only a little surprised to find Steve hard and leaking, the slit of his cock shiny and red and swollen with need. If he could focus on anything more than the feeling of being stuffed full of Steve’s fingers and fucking into his hand he’d touch him, spread the lube over Steve’s cock himself so he can finally fucking impale himself on it like he’s been dreaming of for the past - fuck - several months.

“Your cock, Stevie,” Eddie gasps, whining as Steve finds that place inside him again that makes Eddie’s head swim and his vision spark with stars. “Need it. Ready for you. Where’s the lube?”

Steve’s hand leaves his cock to fish for the bottle, discarded and leaking, still open on the seat beside them and he presses it into Eddie’s hand. Eddie dumps the stuff into his palm and takes Steve’s cock in his hand, giving him a good hard jerk as he spreads it over the hot flesh of him. It sounds so fucking wet, Eddie’s hand moving over Steve’s cock like this, and Steve’s hand has stilled where his fingers are inside him. He’s groaning, thrusting into Eddie’s hand and slowly pulling his fingers free of his body for Eddie to gape and flex around nothing.

“C’mon,” Steve whispers as he guides Eddie’s hips into position over his cock. “Get over here.”

“Ready for this, slugger?” Eddie breathes, capturing Steve’s mouth in a filthy open mouthed kiss.

He shifts, maneuvering Steve’s cock against his hole and he sits, slowly, so fucking slowly.

“Ah, fuck, ” he grits out when the head pops through, and he forces himself to breathe.

Steve is staring up at him, his mouth falling open and gaping, a sound trapped in his throat as his brow furrows at the sensation.

Carefully, Eddie lowers himself more, hissing at the stretch and the slide of Steve’s cock into his body. He doesn’t stop until he’s fully seated in Steve’s lap, where he finally pauses to just bask in it. Steve is inside him. Steve’s cock is completely and totally inside Eddie’s hole, filling him up and stretching him out, making a home for itself. Steve is clutching him, his fingernails digging into the skin of Eddie’s hip and thigh, and there’ll be finger shaped bruises there by morning and Eddie’ll get them fucking tattooed to keep this memory forever if he has to.

Eddie leans back, hooking an arm around each of the headrests on the front seats, watching Steve’s eyes roam over his body as he does.

“Fuck me,” Eddie hears himself say. “Please, Stevie. Please fuck me.”

Steve does. He takes Eddie’s hips in his hands and lifts him up before driving into him and it’s like something breaks between them then. Steve plants his feet, lifting his hips off the seat and he sets into a steady, punishing rhythm. He’s got his head thrown back, the long line of his body taut and muscled, abs flexing with every thrust, his chest hair damp and curly with sweat. There’s no way the car isn’t rocking with the force of this thing between them, Steve’s brutal thrusts into Eddie’s body, the roll of Eddie’s hips as he meets him every single time.

“Fuck you feel so fucking good, Eds.” Steve says it like it’s all one word, the way you’d say amen at the end of a prayer. “Gonna live with my dick in your ass forever, fuck. ”

Eddie never thought sex would be like this. The sweat, the heat of it - that he expected. The hands on his skin, though, the reverence in Steve’s gaze as he looks at him, the little sounds they’re both making, the chants of “I love you I love you I love you” - this , he never anticipated.

“C’mere,” Steve whispers, reaching for Eddie, and Eddie goes to him. He takes his arms from where they’re hooked around the headrests and he pitches forward until his hands find Steve’s hair, until Steve’s mouth finds his own, until they’re kissing. It’s slower like this, pressed together, Eddie’s hips still rocking in time with Steve’s thrusts. The smell of Steve surrounds him like this. It’s all expensive shampoo and sweat and sex, and if Eddie could bottle it to keep he would.

Steve’s hand finds the small of Eddie’s back and presses, guiding him forward to rock down onto him and take him even deeper. Eddie’s cock drags along the planes of Steve’s abs and makes him dizzy. He’s amazed he’s lasted this long and certain he’s coming up on his release quick. Steve’s whispering into his mouth, moaning his name, calling him beautiful, calling him a good boy and Eddie’s got no idea why that’s doing it for him but it drags a whimper from somewhere deep in his soul. Eddie gasps when Steve finds that place within him again, and Steve sucks Eddie’s lip into his mouth.

“I love you,” Steve says again, and Eddie’s too breathless, too consumed with Steve to say it back so he kisses the words into him instead, licking into Steve’s mouth as he quickens the pace of his hips to chase his release. It’s there, it’s building, it’s within sight now and he doesn’t think he’ll be able to stop it when he gets there.

Steve’s hand comes between them to touch Eddie, wrap around him and move against him.

“Ready to come for me?” he whispers against Eddie’s lips, and Eddie is. He is very, very much ready to come for Steve, ready to bust all over his hand, in his chest hair, ready to lick him clean afterwards.

“Come inside me,” Eddie says, and Steve groans.

Briefly, Steve’s rhythm falters a little. His thrusts get jerky, twitchy, and then he presses deep with a cry, spilling deep into Eddie’s body. There’s a flood of warmth, slick and perfect, and Steve’s hips don’t stop, his hand flying over Eddie’s cock to bring him off and there, right on the precipice of release Eddie cries out. He lets it wash over him, barrel through him, and he makes a mess of Steve’s skin with every splash of cum against his chest.

“Fuck,” Eddie breathes when it’s over. “Holy fuck, Stevie, shit. Is sex always like that?”

“Sex has never been like that,” Steve laughs. “Jesus Christ, Eds. Jesus fucking Christ. You’re it for me, I think.”

“Well, shit, after that I’d fuckin’ hope so.”

“Maybe a bed next time, huh?”

Carefully, Eddie lifts himself up off of Steve’s lap, Steve’s cock falling free from his hole and -

“Oh, Jesus, it’s leaking out of me, what the fuck? ”

Steve laughs again, drawing Eddie back down into his lap so he can kiss him some more. He threads their fingers together and holds him there, his other hand coming up to push Eddie’s hair out of his face. They’re tacky with sweat and cum but it’s perfect, and distantly, Eddie hears Steve begin to hum a little tune. Eddie thinks he recognizes it, but his brain hasn’t come back from wherever he threw it earlier and he can’t seem to…

“Take me out to the ball game,” Steve sings under his breath, and Eddie snorts.

Yeah. That was it. Fuckin’ jocks.

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#LexsSummerFanworksChallenge #bee's blurbs #steddie #steddie fic #steve harrington #eddie munson

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shentheauthor · 1 year

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I cannot resist, but headcanons on the Harbingers' types? Like what they would like in a S/O? 🤭

Crabsolutely, friend

Gender neutral s/o, no content warnings

Pierro:

Someone calm

Preferably smart too

Like someone he can play chess with

And just drink tea quietly with

This man needs some peace in his life lmao

Please braid his hair, he is touch starved and needs affection, but he’s old and he can’t say it out loud

Capitano:

Someone who can protect themself

He will def protect you, but when he isn’t there, he wants to know you’ll be safe

Also, he would love a sparring partner as well as a romantic one

If you can keep up with him, color him impressed

I also feel like he isn’t much of a talker, so if you’re cool with just hanging out in silence, he will be drawn to you

Dottore:

A test subject /j

It would actually probably start out that way 😭😭

If you can hold an intelligent conversation and keep him amused, tho, he will stop trying to experiment on you

He will explode with joy if you ask him about his work

And if you listen and remember what he says? Whipped

Basically a good listener and someone who doesn’t mind his psychopathic tendencies lmao

Hell if you’re a bit of a murderous gremlin yourself, he’ll be even more into you

Bc then you can do horrible fucked up experiments ✨together✨

Columbina:

Someone cute who can sing duets with her

She wouldn’t mind whether you’re loud or quiet

She can put up with both

She isn’t super picky about partners, but a good singing voice is a green flag for her

She’d already be intrigued if you aren’t afraid of her, but if you don’t underestimate her either, you’ve definitely got an interested columbina on your hands

Arlecchino:

Probably someone interested in her work

She has high standards tho

Good listener, can cook, willing to adjust your schedule for her, good with kids, but also willing to harshly punish subordinates, etc

She wants someone like her

But maybe a bit nicer lmao

Pulcinella:

Like Pierro, he prefers quiet people

Someone willing to help him deal with stress without adding onto that stress

Also he wants someone good with kids

He will bring his partner with him to visit family and friends, so a social person is better

Just someone he can be quietly domestic and soft with

Gilf moment Fr

Scaramouche

I’m never gonna stop including him and Signora

Anyway tho, he wants someone quiet, but he will actually be somewhat pleasantly surprised if you talk back to him

You’d have to be careful, but he will like you if you can keep up with his rudeness and clap back without fear

Bonus points if you’re strong. He doesn’t want to “coddle” his partner, so he wants someone who can take care of themself

He would also want someone who can read him well. Understanding his moods is a must.

It’s hard to get him to open up, but he would really want someone willing to love him completely without leaving him

Abandonment issues go brrr

Sandrone:

A puppet

Like literally

But if she had to choose a partner who is a normal human, she would want someone who doesn’t care if she’s possessive

She is kind of a yandere, so if you’re into that, she is into you

Bonus points if you’re willing to cook for her

She forgets to eat a lot, and someone who takes care of her would be appreciated

Also, if you’re interested in her work

The way to an autistic’s heart is through the special interest /srs

Signora:

Someone who will love her unconditionally

Someone who doesn’t treat her like a monster

Someone who isn’t afraid of her

She would also love someone strong and smart

Preferably witty too

Like if she can have a healthy banter with you

Her type is Rostam, but if you aren’t Rostam, that’s ok

A strong and protective partner is perfect for her

She can take care of herself just fine, but the feeling of being cared about is unmatched

I miss her so much raaaahhhh

Pantalone:

He would want someone who lets him spoil them

Genuinely

He will lavish you with gifts if you will let him

ALSO, intelligence is a must

He doesn’t have patience for dull conversation

If finances bore you, he actually doesn’t mind

He knows everyone is different

As long as you don’t steal from him, he won’t care

Someone who cares enough to help him de-stress after work is a green flag

He would also love it if you can cook or sew, and is actually open to learning your hobbies if they interest him

Please play board games with him, he’d be so happy

Also he wants a good listener who will hear him ramble without complaining

Tartaglia:

Do you like kids?

Are you open to learning to cook?

Can you spar with him and provide a challenge?

If the answer to all of these questions is “yes,” congrats, you are exactly his type

He doesn’t care much about looks, he really just wants someone who’s fun and loves his family

Extroverts are perfect for him

He would prefer a partner who’s okay with drinking, bc Snezhnaya go brrr (literally)

But if you aren’t comfortable with that, that’s okay

Definitely the most fun to be with if you’re outgoing, so he would want you to be adventurous too

He would also like talkative people, bc then he can listen to you ramble <3

Rule #1 tho: don’t be afraid of him. Treat him like a person, not a weapon

He doesn’t mind being a weapon, but if his partner is soft with him and doesn’t demand anything, that is ideal

I love him sm

I love doing these lmao. It’s kinda cringe, but it’s self indulgent and I like exploring their characters like this

I’m probably gonna create an ask blog specifically for this sometime soon

#genshin impact #harbinger headcanons #Shen’s headcanons #fatui x reader #fatui harbingers #Pierro #capitano #Dottore #columbina #Arlecchino #pulcinella #Scaramouche #Sandrone #Signora #Pantalone #Tartaglia #genshin x reader

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gyuvxx · 23 days

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Light ⋆☀︎｡

Riize as Wave to Earth

Osaki Shotaro x Reader

Fluff, tooth rotting fluff. Don't show this to ur dentist. no real warnings, just a lot of cuteness.

WC: 500 smth

synopsis: In which Shotaro loves his girlfriend a whole lot.

Shotaro Loved his girlfriend. He told just about everyone, he never missed a chance to bring her up, to talk about his beloved YN.

His friends teased him for it, but he didn’t mind. He liked talking about her, he liked telling everyone that he was her boyfriend, or all the little details about her that he loved so much. Even she teased him for it.

“I’m starting to think you have a crush on me,” She told him one day, looking up at him with the smile he liked so much.

They had been dating for two months at that point. Shotaro could only smile.

“I have such a big crush on you,” he told her, wrapping his arms around her waist. “How could you tell?”

How could he help himself? Not only was she adorable, but she was sweet, the sweetest girl he’d ever met. She always cared for him, even when they were just friends, she made him feel valued, loved. When they got together, he thought it was the best day of his life. Soon enough, he realized his life would only get better.

When he first confessed his love, and she said it back, he decided he’d do everything in his power to keep her. To keep his light.

They sat on his couch together, his arm wrapped lazily around her shoulder, pressing his cheek against her arm. She Kissed his forehead, smiling as their TV show played. Neither of them were really paying attention to the plot, really just enjoying their cuddle time.

YN’s eyes threatened to close every moment, sleep creeping up on her as Shotaro wrapped his arms around her. His gaze was fixed on her, looking over at her sleepy figure with a smile. He felt his own need for sleep creeping up on him, trying to keep his heavy lids open, trying to look at his pretty girlfriend even more.

She snuggled into him more, letting her eyes fall shut, as shotaro adjusted around her, rubbing her shoulder gently.

“You’re so pretty,” he whispered into her hair. All he got back was a little hum, YN was too tired to really say anything back. He knows she would’ve called him pretty too. “Have I told you how perfect you are?”

“You told me this morning,” She sleepily replied, a little smile on her lips as shotaro wrapped his arms around her, resting her head against his chest.

“I just want you to know,” He mumbled, lips brushing against her ear before he kissed her cheek. He heard her soft hum. “I love you,” he told her, it was probably the tenth time he’d said it in the past hour.

“I love you too,” she mumbled, sleep close to overtaking her.

“I love you more,” he whispered against her skin. “So, so much,” his voice was muffled, she barely picked up on what he said, close to falling asleep completely. He knew this, and picked her up gently, wrapping his arms around her carefully and carried her to their bed.

He laid her down carefully, seeing her sleep-heavy eyes looking up at him, a little smile spread across her cheeks. He draped a blanket over her, before climbing in next to her, and snuggling up next to her. They fell asleep in each others arms, dreaming each other into the morning.

First chapter is out!! these are just gonna be little short stories I think fit the members of riize! upload schedule should be every Tuesday and Friday!

RIIZE as W2E masterlist ₊˚.༄

taglist: @oftenjisung , @vhuteryh , @skzhoe4life , @cheederzchez , @so-lychee

#gyuvxx⭐️#riize fluff #riize shotaro #osaki shotaro #shotaro fluff #shotaro oneshot #riize #wave to earth

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elix8r · 11 months

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The Frat Diaries Glossary (heads up: I realized while writing that i’m using a lot of lingo that not everyone might be familiar so this should help you out with understanding everything and the story will make more sense esp if you’re not already familiar with Greek life and also this is all based on my personal experiences so it might be different at each school):

Rush: a process where prospective sorority and fraternity members and the actual sororities and fraternities meet each other and through this they pick out the people that they want in their organization. Sorority rush (recruitment) is much more of an organized event where PNMs come weeks before school actually start to rush. They have specified schedules that let them know which sororities to meet. This process is so intricate lmao I literally thought I was dying when I went through it cause everyday I had to wake up at like 5am to get ready and got back to my dorm at like 8pm. Each day the amount of sororities you can get back lessen until the last day where you are left with your top two and you choose from there. Fraternity rush is much more of a laidback event that also happens before school starts. Fraternity rush is more about who you know and connections. Many start inviting potential members over the summer to their houses to see if they vibe well with everyone else. Then during the official week of rush, frats will hold events or dinners that are invite only and from there they narrow their choices before handing out bids.

PNM: potential new member

Pledge: A non-initiated member of a fraternity. He isn’t considered a full-fledged member and this is usually where the “hazing” happens and a good chunk of them are first years

Chapter: a weekly mandatory meeting held at the sorority house where members come and learn about upcoming events and etc.

Initiation: a very very secretive ceremony that is different for every organization but this is where the new members are officially indoctrinated into being a member of the sorority or fraternity. It’s usually really formal (almost cult-like with coordinated dress code, usually long white dresses) and a big deal.

Bid: the official invitation you receive from the sorority or fraternity to join them

Bid day: an important day at the end of rush week where new members run home (sometimes literally) and the sororities throw huge celebrations to celebrate the new members that have received a bid from them

GBig/Big/little: a big is usually an older member of your organization that is a mentor figure that basically takes you under their wing and helps you adjust to your life in Greek. While not always, these relationships are usually one that develops to an actual older sister/younger sister situation. Your GBig would be the big of your big and all together you would refer to everyone in your group as a family and the little would be the new member

Tailgate: pre-game for a big sports game and it usually involves lots of day drinking, barbecuing, yard games, and socializing

Darty: day-party

Formal/Semi-formal: kinda like college prom for fraternities and sororities. Usually held in like some city (New Orleans) or a special place and it’s really fun as you’re probably gonna be drunk at it

Game day pin/stickers: Im not sure that this is a thing outside of the South but because it is a thing everyone has on gamedays i’m going to add it. It’s like pins or stickers that usually showcases your sorority’s support for your school. Pins are worn by the members (and maybe parents or significant others as they aren’t handed out in bulks like the stickers are so if you see someone who isn’t in that sorority wearing a pin, then they probably have a close relationship with whoever gave it to them) and stickers are put on just anyone who wants one. Click this link for some examples.

Letters: the Greek letters for you fraternity or sorority. For example the two main organizations in this story is Epsilon Nu (EN) and Alpha Epsilon Sigma (AEΣ). Many Greek members will be seen sporting their letters on their shirts, hats, computers, backpacks, water bottles, etc.

Dues: how much you pay the organization and it usually covers the cost for the house, meals, membership, etc.

Date Party/Socials/Mixer: social events that usually have a theme or is held with other fraternities. I’ve been to like My-tie, ski lodge, Hawaiian luau, country-club, etc and they’re just a real fun time to socialize and spend time with your fellow sisters

Philanthropy: Usually each organization has a specific charity or awareness they raise money for (ZTA raises breast cancer awareness and Tri-Delt raises money for St. Jude) and there will also be drives or events held to raise money or volunteer

Executive Board: aka exec is the leadership council for your organization. For example: President, VP of Recruitment, Standards chair, etc.

Standards: This is like HR or risk management. This is the board that makes sure the girls follow rules and policies and if they don’t, then you will be called to standards and given consequences based on what you did wrong. Example: I got fined for talking to a PNM who was a friend of mine outside of rush during recruitment week.

Author’s Note: I might add more as I write but seriously if you have any questions do not hesitate to send them my way and i will be more than happy to do my best to try to explain things further also I have made my mind to further expand this universe and create stories with some of the other members! so look out for those in the near future!

#sunghoon smut #sunghoon fluff #sunghoon scenarios #sunghoon x reader #sunghoon #enhypen #enhypen x reader #enhypen smut #enhypen scenarios #frat au #fic: pink whitney

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finalfrontierpioneer · 2 months

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2023 Fic Recs!

Happy International Fanworks Day everybody!!! To celebrate, have some fic recs! These are some of my favorite works from last year! You know the drill- all completed last year, various ratings/lengths, nothing from multiple authors (although i was SO tempted, especially by @chocolateteapotsvis as always), and in complete random order.

Thank you to all of these lovely authors for brightening up my year! :D And also enabling my procrastination lolol

Halbarry, my otp, of course:

Onward to the Horizon by ChocolateTeapots @chocolateteapotsvis (Teen and up)

Five days, three Kaiju, and eleven collective hours of sleep. It’s one more fight. They just need to pull through. For Halbarry Week Day 4: Fantasy/SciFi

sometimes I feel it comin' on at the wheel by DynamicDuo (XylB) @halifax-jordan (Explicit)

"It'll be okay," Hal soothes. "I don't need to know what's troubling you right now, but whatever it is, it'll be all right." "It focuses…on what…I want," Barry says through gritted teeth, like each word is painful to get out. Or maybe embarrassing? He peeks up at Hal through his fingers with a meaningful look, as if hoping Hal will understand…through osmosis? "Buddy, I can do a lot, but I can't read your mind."

When I Come Back, I'll Wear Your Wedding Ring by ketchup_monthly (General)

hal has some issues he needs to work through, but he loves his boyfriend very much. barry just wants to get married. aka: i wrote yet another halbarry fic furthering my "hal is a huge romantic" agenda

Entropy (Has Got Nothing on Us) by RoboticNebula @roboticnebula (Mature)

Snapshots of Hal and Barry’s life together. For Halbarry week 2023 (25 August – 31 August).

star twinkled skin by Rexs_Blacks (Explicit)

Barry gets stuck in a wall. Hal helps out. Feelings and shit.

Buddie!

glue by ProsperDemeter (Teen and up) -this entire series is SO PERFECT

“It’s just…” Connor shrugged. “No offense, man, but… you’re twenty-five. Do you really want to be spending so much time falling for a guy with a kid?” “I’m not falling for him.” -- A month away from graduating the LAFD Academy, Evan Buckley gets introduced to new recruit Eddie Diaz and things certainly change for both of them after that. -- Another season one rewrite.

I'll Feel You Forget Me Like I Used to Feel You Breathe by turningthepages (Mature)

A car accident leaves Eddie without ten years of memories. He forgets meeting Buck, falling in love, getting married, and bringing two more kids into their life. As Eddie struggles to adjust to this new life, Buck struggles with being in love with someone who doesn't want to remember him. Oh, and they have really cute kids. or Just another Hollywood Amnesia story the fandom probably didn't need but lived in my head rent free for too long.

help me hold on to you by Ink_Dancer (Mature)

"You doing okay, Buck?" Eddie asked. Buck snorted. Loudly. It echoed. Eddie clicked his tongue. "Okay." He started moving again, coming over to Buck's side and starting to gather up an armful of takeout cartons. "What're you doing?" Buck asked. "I'm taking care of you," Eddie said firmly. "Because you're not doing a very good job." Or: Buck recovers slowly from the ladder truck, the Buckley-Diaz family goes stargazing, and Eddie and Buck get stuck in an attic during a house fire.

to your front door by hammersmiths (General)

Pepa’s been eyeing him all evening, so it shouldn’t be a surprise when she says, “Why aren’t you dating Eddie?” And yet Buck still nearly veers the car straight off the road.

maybe it's the way you lean on his shoulder by allyasavedtheday @littlespoonevan (Teen and up)

“Eddie,” she blurts. “Hi. Sorry. I didn’t realise you were here.” The sound of her voice makes him move and he quickly sets the knife down, offering her a warm smile. “Hey, Maddie. Don’t apologise; I’m not interrupting your schedule, am I?” “Oh no,” Maddie shakes her head quickly, waving the idea away. “The uh- the schedule’s been retired. I was just gonna make Buck dinner but-“ “Looks like we had the same idea, huh?” Eddie replies with a half-laugh. “Well, you’re welcome to join us. I’m making lasagne. It’s not quite on the level of Bobby’s famous four-cheese recipe but Buck’s still on a comfort food kick.” * In which Maddie realises there might be more to Buck and Eddie's relationship than she'd originally thought.

Stucky:

Werewolves in the Workplace by leveragehunters (Monkeygreen) @leveragehunters (Teen and up)

SHIELD was the only intelligence agency that assigned werewolf and vampire agents to work together in the field, but the program had been a staggering success. They compensated each other’s weaknesses, complemented each other’s strengths, and a werewolf could feed a vampire and shake off the effects faster than ordering a pizza. Bucky knew all that. What he didn't know was why this particular vampire, one Agent Steve Rogers, was holding out a protein bar. They were perched in the rafters of a warehouse, waiting for not-overly punctual arms dealers to show up and deal arms, had been stuck up here for a couple of hours, but none of that explained vampires suddenly offering snacks. In his near decade as a werewolf in SHIELD, Bucky had worked with a lot of vampires, and they all tended to be pretty much the same. Steve Rogers was different, didn't fit the vampire mould, and Bucky couldn't quite figure out why. Not that it really mattered. Steve was just someone he was occasionally paired with on SHIELD assignments. It wasn't like he was going to have any effect on Bucky's life.

Waking the Fire in Me by humapuma (Explicit)

Steve’s knees nearly went out from under him, but he grabbed onto the table to stay upright. He whined – he couldn’t help it. His chest cracked open, breaking him down until he was sixteen years old again, thin and sickly. The pale grey of those eyes was so familiar, but Steve hadn’t seen it, hadn’t even thought to look for it. How? A voice screamed inside. How did I not see? His entire being trembled as he whispered, “Bucky?” The Soldier’s usually cold eyes changed then, something flashed in them as his nostrils flared, harshly inhaling Steve’s scent before he said the words that finally made his buckling knees give out, forcing Steve to the ground. “Who the hell is Bucky?” A ghost found his way to the Avengers, asking for help - a ghost of a man long thought dead.

the time that's slipping by its_tortle @its-tortle (Teen and up)

“Hello?” she calls. Steve holds his breath again, even as he feels pressure build up behind his eyes. Because that’s his mother’s voice, and he hasn’t heard in twenty one (conscious) years. He doesn’t dare move. OR 'If Steve was going to travel back in time for anything before returning to his own timeline, it would be to see his mom again one last time'

Tongue in Cheek by rohruh (Explicit)

“No, no,” Bucky leans into his space, close enough that Steve can feel the warm tufts of his breath against his cheek, “go on.” “It’s just,” Steve’s not quite sure how to phrase this. He’s not sure what his motivation was in starting this whole conversation, really. “I guess I wish that I could kiss like that, is all.” Bucky stares at him, his eyes bright as the warm glow from the streetlight dances off of them. “I could teach you.” Steve’s mouth goes dry. “Teach me?” “Yeah,” Bucky snatches the joint out of his hand and leans back against the wall. “Give you a kissing lesson, or whatever.”

Backhoe by ZenaidaMacrouras @zenaidamacrouras1 (Explicit)

Steve Rogers is a seasoned activist and not at all afraid to get arrested while protesting the building of a pipeline. HOWEVER he is TERRIFIED when he realizes he’ll be chained to the same backhoe as Bucky “very handsome southern boy who also plays guitar and struts like a panther in his very tight, worn thin blue jeans” Barnes. Our brave, tiny Steve will find out once and for all: Can you catch on fire from blushing over your crush? May Contain: Extended descriptions of how to get arrested while chained to a backhoe, copious amounts of sisters, Appalachian accents, cheerful silliness interspersed with tragic background realness. Pining with a happy ending. Chicken related controversy. Tragic background realness mainly consists of parents passing away, because who doesn’t love adult orphans. Discussion of funerals. Very brief homophobic interaction in chapter 18 (marked in the chapter intro notes). There is no violence, but there are a few moments where you might think there might be violence. Overall this is a romance not a gritty, hard hitting documentary.

Various pairings:

Till You Find Your Dream by Kyele @timeforalongstory (Explicit) (Brudick)

You know, my child, that the orphanage cannot continue to support you once you become an adult.” The abbess sighs. “There is one path that is always open to you. You may choose a holy vocation, and take orders. The Sisters of Perpetual Grace will accept you as a postulant if you choose.” Dick had known to expect this. “Thank you, Reverend Mother,” Dick says respectfully, “but I cannot follow that path.” The Mother Superior nods. He looks unsurprised. “Then perhaps,” he says, “you would be interested to hear of another opportunity.” From the papers on his desk, the abbess removes a single sheet. “Are you familiar with Captain Wayne?” Dick accepts a position as governess to eight war-orphans, adopted by millionaire and WW1 flying ace Captain Bruce Wayne. The rest is inevitable.

Seven by HollyDB (Explicit) (Spuffy)

It's been months since Willow almost ended the world, and a tense summer has turned into an ominous fall in Sunnydale. Spike is back from wherever and acting weirder than usual, a new threat is rising that—for once—doesn't seem to stem from the hellmouth, and Buffy has no idea who to trust or what to believe. She also doesn’t have the luxury of time to figure it out. Some things never change.

Seven Lessons by Tessabeth (Mature) (Cazriel)

At Windhaven, teenage Cassian's in trouble again. As punishment he's paired with the strange shadowsinger who hangs around Devlon's headquarters. 40,000 words, ten chapters, complete. Some timeline tinkering. “You,” says Devlon, pointing at Cass, “need to learn self control. He’s got it. And you,” pointing at Azriel now, “need to learn to use those pathetic curtains you’re carrying around on your back, and this one knows how. So there you go. You’ve got a week. At the end of the week, I want both of you flying, and both of you able to put up a solid shield without blasting your comrades over a cliff. Now fuck off.” Azriel bends down to the Commander and murmurs something urgently in his ear. Tendrils of shadow writhe around his jaw. “No. No, I’ll manage it without you. I’ve let this go on too long; you’re too old for this bullshit. You can come back when you can fly. Go on, fuck off. And shut the door behind you.” Back out in the gelid dusk, the two look at each other warily. Azriel still says nothing. Cass sighs. “See you in the morning? Meet by the mess?” Azriel ducks his head in agreement, and disappears down an alleyway. It’s going to be a long week.

Desperate Times by Eienvine (General) (Sifki)

Sif sees the man’s lips curve up in a sharp, cruel smile. “I have long dreamed of seeing Odin on his knees, begging for his life. I cannot have that, but I can at least see his son beg for someone else’s life.” He won’t do it, Sif is certain; if there is one thing that can confidently be said about Loki, it is that he is horribly proud. And proud men do not beg. Not even to save her life.

Sit, Stay, Speak by Fenris13 @ragnarokhound (Explicit) (Jaytim)

“He’s not here. Just his suit,” he tells Babs, gathering up the costume. “The apartment’s untouched, but downstairs looks like a hurricane went through it.” There’s a crackling hiss through the receiver as she sighs, tense. “Shit. Okay. Is there anything—?” “That’s not all,” he interrupts, standing up with an apprehensive look at his unexpected new companion. “There’s a dog.”

and tell the ones you love (you love them) by LadyMerlin (Teen and up) (Jaytim)

Weeks pass and the clan remains occupied with the chaos that is Gotham. It’s no busier than usual, but Bruce feels himself tiring easily, still recovering from his involuntary jaunt through the timestream. Everyone is remarkably kind to him, giving him time and space to recover. Unfortunately, all that time gives him, well… a lot of time to think. To consider. To analyse the changes that have occurred during his absence. There are new alliances, new tensions, shifting fault lines in the geology of his family. He reminds himself that this is the best case scenario; that everyone is still alive and well, that things could have gone much worse. But he can’t help but feel there’s something he’s still missing. Something he hasn't been told. AKA: the one where Bruce learns how to use his words, and tries not to be too nosy about his children's love lives.

those kind of friends by gabrieeella (Mature) (Jeronica)

He remembered the first time he’d seen her wear her hair like that, the way it’d unsettled him a little. It was so Betty-like, and yet not Betty-like at all. Betty’s ponytail moved like spilled sunlight. Veronica’s swung around like a guillotine. Or, a series of unexpected late-night encounters force an ever-distant Jughead and Veronica to explore who they really are (and could be) to each other.

you dug my heart a grave by jilliancares @jilliancares (General) (Spideypool)

He’s laying there, groaning and in pain and clutching his ribs, but even worse— [Really? Is it really worse? Give it a good, hard think and tell me if this is worse.] —but even worse, sparks are flying. Literally. Or: Wade realizes that Spidey is his soulmate.

#fic recs #2023 fic recs #halbarry #buddie #stucky

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acesofspadess · 4 months

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Living ( A live sequel)

a/n: omgggg I know it been forever since this story but im back with the sequel!!!! there is gonna be a few chapters before were back on track but that just means you guys will see me on your timelines everyday ☺️

“Hi I’m Maia Quinn, and I'm the Season 23 winner of The Voice!"

Mid July

“Hello Team Niall.” Niall introduced as they all waved and greeted him back. “Well, I've got a bit of news for you. Because of my concert schedule, I actually won't be in town for knockout rehearsals.” Everyone was shocked… and rightfully so. “Because I won't be there, I've chosen another coach to come in and mentor you guys for rehearsal.” Everyone started to freak out wondering who on earth it might be.

“And they have been in your place before so I think they’ve got exactly what you need.”

The scene changed to the all too familiar practice room with an empty directors chairs. The sounds of steps progressively got louder until the special person appeared.

“I'M BACK!”

But let's not get ahead of ourselves. Let's rewind a bit.

~~~~~~

A day or two after The Voice Finale

“Hi I’m Maia Quinn, and I'm the Season 23 winner of The Voice, and we're hanging out with Rob on Front Row Live.”

“Go with me.” Niall moaned into your mouth as you straddled him. “Where?” you question kissing down his neck. “Boston. I know it's last minute and we’d leave in the morning-” you shut him up with a kiss and a roll of your hips, his hands tightening against your thighs. “Just wake me up an hour before we leave.”

Sitting at the desk of you and Niall’s shared hotel room the morning of May 26th you had early interviews to get through before you were meant to go to the festival. You looked over the camera to see Niall already looking at you.

“Maia congratulations. What a night you had a few nights ago.” Rob praised and you smiled adjusting your airpod. “I am super excited for you and your career and your future. Especially because you're starting so young. You have enough time to kind of like, continue to evolve, and understand your voice; learn a lot more about yourself throughout this process. Talk to me about this process of your experience here on the voice and how you've evolved as a vocalist and a performer.” The interview was more than you could ever imagine.

“Now your relationship with Niall this season has had fans going crazy. From the after performance hugs to the duet, and the after party, what can you tell us about that?”

You saw Nialls face peak over the laptop screen and stayed neutral. “Niall has been the most supportive and very encouraging. He has become one of my best friends through this whole journey. I lost a lot of my confidence during the pandemic unfortunately. It made me think that I would never be able to do things that I certainly could do and Niall- all these years later- has been there to remind me that I probably can do them, and then make me do it. So our friendship and relationship has been so important to me. He is my best friend across the charts and he’d hate me for saying this, but I wouldn't be here without him.”

“Last question before we go. Is there anything we can look forward to seeing soon? Maybe another EP?”

You smiled glad you were able to share some information on what was coming next. “All I'll say now is, look for me on stage back home.” you winked dramatically knowing those who would get it would get it.”

“That's amazing, I'll definitely keep my eyes peeled. It was so great having you on. I hope to see you in person soon.”

“Bye!”

``````````````

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User10 i'm actually really happy she won

User2 wait…Slane is in Ireland…..

User6 I just learned she had an EP…. what?!?!?!?

Being at Boston Calling with him

“Boston, Massachusetts, how you doing?” he asked the crowd after he finished ‘Heaven’. The loud response made him smile excitedly. “Holy shit! This is crazy.” you face palmed knowing he was going to slip up sooner or later. “Thank you all so much for coming out to see me. I really appreciate it.” they cheered again as he sipped his water. You watched as he looked at the amount of people and a smile formed on your face.

“This is uhm- this is actually my first ever Festival.” he let out a breath at the realisation. “I've definitely been drunk at a few.” you laughed at him with the rest of the crowd. “But I've never played at any and for that reason I'm absolutely shitting myself.” he said looking at you knowing you would calm him, and him seeing you laugh did just the trick.

“But thank you for being here. I know some of you guys have been queuing for years.” he looked around at the signs “My girlfriend showed me this earlier ‘i travelled four thousand miles to be here from Brazil’ your eyes went wide at the declaration and the deafening screams were present. He subtly looked in your direction and saw your reaction, his worry diminished as he saw you smiling making him smile. “Makes you feel bad from coming just down the road doesn't it? ‘I came from round New York’.” he mocked, “awe who cares.” he laughed with them and you hid a big smile behind your hands.

~~~~

You walked the same route you came flashing your pass when you reached the gate and made your way in to see Niall. When you saw him you squealed and ran over to him. He turned when he heard you and caught you in his arms as you wrapped your legs around his waist and he spun you both around hands on the swell of your bum.

“I'm so proud of you!” you screamed and he laughed before he was kissing you passionately. It was quick as many more pecks through giggles followed. “I can not explain to you how happy i am.” he whispered in shock as you were sitting in the trailer behind the stage and he was getting changed. “You should be so happy, my love. That was incredible, and I am so so proud of you.” he smiled at you before grabbing your hand and kissing the ring on it. “You make me so happy, baby girl.” you melted at his words and stood up to kiss him softly. “And you make me the happiest girl, Ni.”

You surprising Niall at his Zane Lowe interview and him outing you

You knew Niall was disappointed when you told him you wouldn't be able to make it to his Zane Lowe interview today. He was really excited for this one and wanted you to be there. It was only a few days later that you flew from Boston down to LA for the interview. You were working on last minute stuff for the announcement today and you were nowhere close to done when he was getting ready to leave.

“I'm sorry love.” you kissed his pout away as you both stood by the door of his LA house. “I know, it’s okay. I know why you can’t make it, and for that I am so very proud.” he melted his lips against yours as your hands went to the curls on the back of his neck and he wrapped his went straight to your bum.

~~~

Niall was watching Zane play his songs and the guitar with a big smile a few hours after he left. “There are some pretty songs on this record bro.” Zane complimented as he switched playing from ‘The Show’ to ‘You could start a cult’. You who had just made it into the studio to surprise Niall were standing behind the glass watching him, waiting for him to notice.

“Thank you very much.'' He cut through Zanes music. “This one kills me.” Zane admitted as Niall caught on to what he was playing. “Yeah.” he cheered Zane on softly, finally noticing you. You saw his smile widened and you waved softly. “You Could Start A Cult.” he named distractedly, still looking at you as if he looked away you would disappear.

~~~

“Kingdoms fighting over you,” Niall continued. “I think that like they’re the ones- that could have very easily been, ‘ i like waking up beside you and you're my favourite person.” he joked easily. “But ‘you could start a war’.” you shook your head at his lyrical genius. “Do you ever crack yourself up with it?”

‘Yeah it was something silly at first but now everyone's obsessed with it. It started with me and my girlfriend now, when we met we would watch crime shows together over facetime,” he exposed and you chuckled at his laugh.

‘You say girlfriend now, sorry if i'm over stepping but..” zane trailed off

“No,” he shrugged off looking at you, who nodded, “she was not my girlfriend at the time, she is now, is what that meant.”

“So did she not know the song was for her?”

“She didn't know any song was for her- or about her I should say. The road from when we met to now has been a very dark windy tunnel, but we made it to the other end.”

“That's beautiful Niall, truly.” You smiled at him agreeing with Zane.

“This was the last song on the record that we wrote.” Niall confessed, and you wondered why. “Why, what was missing?” and without hesitation he pointed to you, “her.” Zane looked to where he was pointing and you waved happily at him. He waved back to you just as happy before turning to Niall with a face of shock. “No?” he gasped and Niall laughed, throwing his head back. “Yeah, I know. Way out of my league.” he watched you shake your head with an eye roll and he couldn't stop the smile from gracing his face.

“I could’ve gone and did what I did with the rest of the record and put BV’s all over it and strings and that was my plan - and John just said to me- because we we were not talking at the time…” he pointed between you and him, “...this is your message to,” he paused, ‘“ her’ keep it that way. Just you and your guitar and your feelings.”

And while there's much much more… you’ll see that soon

~~~~~~~~~~

taglist: comment if you want to be added!!

@youcan-nolonger-run @ravenclawdirectioner@luxiorchive @maeflowers653 @purple9950 @forkmeniall @nathalielovesonedirection @hopsydaisy @shortie-niya

#nialler #cute niall #niall horan x reader #niall horan fluff #niall horan fanfiction #niall horan #niall horan smut #niall fanfic #niall one shot #one direction #solo niall #niall 1d #niall james horan #niall horan fic #niall the show #niall horan x y/n #niall imagine #niall horan x you #the show 2024

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sweetiesicheng · 1 year

Text

the8 - car ride

word count : 539

today was the day you and the guys were going out of town to spend some time away from the city. however, most of the guys still had various schedules, so you and minghao decided to head out early and go explore the town. unfortunately, the guys had tasked grocery shopping onto the two of you so that was something you had to do later once you made it to the town you were going to.

you had fallen asleep in the car for roughly an hour before waking up and starting to feel really car sick. "you okay?" your boyfriend asked you when he heard you whine after waking up.

"i'm think i'm gonna hurl..." you said while leaning your head against the window and closing your eyes. "how does motion sickness exist?" you mumbled.

"please don't throw up in me later, not when i’m wearing this shirt," minghao said to you but you knew he was being just trying to be a little funny.

"i'm gonna hit you later," you responded. you opened your eyes to reach in front of you and adjusted the fans of the air conditioner in front of you. "how much longer?" you asked and closed your eyes.

"only thirty minutes," the8 replied, making you groan.

"i swear to god, you said that twenty minutes ago, minghao," you said to him.

"i think you're hallucinating. you were still asleep twenty minutes ago," he said to you. you opened your eyes and noticed him getting off the exit.

"where are we going?" you asked him, knowing that the exit you were supposed to take was later.

"rest stop."

"babe, we don't have to stop. i'll live, i promise," you said to him, looking over at him.

"well, i would rather you not throw up in the car," he said to you. "and we can go ahead and get lunch here. the rest of the guys won't make it until tonight anyways, so we might as well take some time here instead of waiting for them at the rental," he said to you and pulled into the parking lot of a rest stop. “we might be able to shop for a few things too,” he added.

you stopped leaning against the window and sat back in your seat while minghao found a parking spot and parked the car. you unbuckled yourself and got out of the car before minghao could turn the car off. sighing in relief, you were already starting to feel better being out of the car.

your boyfriend turned the car off and got out of it. he closed the door and locked the car before walking around to the car to reach you.

"feel better already?" he asked you, grabbing your hand.

you nodded and smiled at him, "yea."

"good," he replied. "come on, let's find something to eat. we should probably go buy medicine too, just in case," he suggested. you decided to hug him and felt him hug you back.

"love ya."

"love you," minghao replied and kissed your forehead. you continued hugging him, "you need to let go."

"no."

"y/n, we're in the middle of a parking lot."

"so?"

"you're so weird."

"and you still love me."

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fandomnsfw · 1 year

Text

Teddy Bear’s and Alpha Daddy’s - Scott McCall x Reader (Part 2/2)

Pairing: Scott McCall x Reader

Warnings: Nothing just FLUFF and pack cuddles. And DerBear is a softy!

Enjoy!!

*********

You were seething. Her hand brushed over his arm as she laughed at something he said. Becca was the year bellow you and Scott and currently despite knowing he’s taken, she’s flirting up a storm. You felt your claws extend as your body started shaking violently.

“Shit what are you doing put your eyes away!” Stiles face came into view as if trying to block your view.

“Look at her.” You growled as you took a deep breath closing your eyes to get control.

“Oh I see now. Yeah I understand that one. Yesterday I went grocery shopping with Der and the check out girl literally had the nerve to give her number to him in front of me! I swear he’s too hot to be in public.” Stiles huffed in annoyance.

You looked over to Scott and she was pressing her chest to his upper arm as she clung to it. You didn’t care that Scott looked uncomfortable because he was still letting out happen.

“I’m gonna rip her throat out with my teeth!” You growled as she tried to go for her getting the attention of Scott.

Stiles grabbed you so fast you would’ve probably been shocked if it weren’t for the violent anger you were currently feeling. You felt two people grab you from behind dragging you off quickly.

“Let me go!” You screamed as they dragged you into the boys lockers room.

“Y/N calm down!” You heard Lydia shout from the door. Your eyes snapped to hers with a snarl as you threw off both people holding you.

As you were about to get out you ran into a solid chest that quickly spun you back into the locker room. You were about to launch again but his voice snapped you out of it instantly.

“Kneel!” You felt to the floor instantly, kneeling with you eyes to the ground. Oh no, you were in trouble.

“S-She was touching you…” You whimpered, looking up at him through your lashes. You could feel yourself slipping into little space. This was bad.

“Baby girl we’ve been over this. You can’t just lose it in the middle of school. Now look, you’ve switched I can smell it.” He signed as he started crouching to look you in the eyes.

“I-I’m sorry Da-” You quickly looked around the room and realised all eyes were on you.

“I-I wanna go home.” You gasped as you tried to avoid your pack mates eyes.

“Baby you’ve got a test later, you can’t.” Scott sighed sympathetically as he scooped you into his arms.

“What’s wrong with her?” You heard Liam ask, the question made you tense in Scott’s arms he must’ve felt because he looked away from you. Scott’s eyes let’s Liam’s flashing red in a warning before Stiles started speaking.

“Nothing wrong with her!” He snapped angrily before he approached you and Scott.

“Hey Princess, can you do me a favour?” Stiles asked softly as he bent down in front of you.

“W-What?” You stuttered as you moved out head away from Scott’s chest to look at Stiles.

“Can you go with Lydia to my car to get me a lollipop? If you want you can get one while your there?” He spoke sweetly his smile making you cheer up instantly.

“R-Really?” You giggled wiping your eyes.

“Yep come on sweetie let’s go see what flavours they have!” Lydia caught on quickly, reaching out to you with her hand. You happily took it as she took Stiles keys and lead you out of the locker room.

Scott stood up and brushed himself off before crossing his arms, taking his alpha stance. Everyone straightened up and waited for him to talk.

“She’s a little. I haven’t got time to sit and tell you everything that it entails but I’m gonna have Stiles print off information, rules and schedules. All I can say right now is sometimes she is like a child and needs more care. As her pack that shouldn’t be hard for you to adjust to. If anyone has a problem with it once they’ve read everything then you can leave the pack.” Scott informed them with a serious face, everyone was shocked. Scott had never told anyone they could leave no matter the situation.

“I know what it is an I have no problems. I’ll explain it to Liam later at lunch.” Mason smiled softly earning a smile from Scott.

“I’m gonna take a guess and say Lydia probably knows considering she reads too much for her own good.” Stiles snorted with a smiles before turning to Malia.

“You good Malia?” Stiles asked when she just stared at the floor with wide eyes.

“What was she gonna call you?” Malia suddenly asked and a smirk took over her entire face.

Mason and Stiles started laughing as soon the question was out her mouth. Scott closed his eyes, tipping his head back with a blush spreading over his cheeks.

“Daddy.” He muttered before dropping his head to look at his pack mates.

“Kinky.” Malia laughed as she wiggled her brows earning a halfhearted glare from Scott.

After a few more questions Lydia walked back in with you in tow except now half your hair was in two tiny space buns, the rest of your hair was down. You also had a lollipop stick protruding out of your fleshly glossed lips.

“Don’t you look cute kitten.” Scott chuckled as you let go of Lydia’s hand and ran into Scott’s arms.

His arms were the safest place in the world to you. No matter what happens you know at the end of the day you’ll be fine as long as Scott will hold you. He was your home.

You showed him your lollipop with a grin, he chuckled and nodded his head with approval. He flicked one of your Space buns making you gasp with a glare directed at him.

“Daddy don’t do that! Lydia did them perfect!” You huffed angrily before running back to Lydia. She gave Scott a playful scolding look as she cuddled you.

After Lydia fixed your hair and you finished your lollipop Scott picked you up in his arms before sitting down in a bench with you in his lap. He stared into your eyes with so much love it made you blush.

“Right come on baby girl, Daddy needs you to come out of little space for now. I promise as soon as schools over, we’ll go to your house pick up all your little stuff and spend the night at the pack house and you can be in little space for as long as you want. Okay?” He muttered softly you gave him a pout but figured it was probably for the best.

The rest of the day was pretty uneventful and thankfully no one even registered what had happened earlier in the day. Scott promised he’d stay away from Becca since it clearly bothered you a lot.

The pack was currently split between three vehicle’s; Stiles’ jeep, Lydia’s Prius and Scott’s bike. You were sat on the back of Scott’s bike as he drove ahead to grab the things from your place. Lydia followed the bike whilst Stiles went straight to the pack house.

You arrived at your house with Lydia, Scott and Malia followed. You were yet to slip into little space mostly because without it being triggered you felt nervous too in front of Lydia and Malia. Lydia had been nice to you but you were still unsure whether Malia would be as calm about it.

“Right let’s pick out a few things since it’s Friday today, we can all stay at the pack house all weekend. Come on Princess show me the wardrobe!” Lydia giggled as she dragged you to your room Malia awkwardly following.

“Baby I’m gonna get your other stuff together let me know when you’re done.” Scott called as you heard him scuttling around the house finding things to take. You assumed it was probably your pacifier and your sippy cups maybe a few other bits.

You easily slipped into little space without even realising since everyone made it so smooth and natural. You felt happy that everyone was being calm, it made you less anxious.

“Let’s see…Ooo cute where did you get this?” Lydia asked excitedly as she picked up your pink overall dress.

“I don’t know D-Daddy got it for me.” You muttered shyly but Lydia didn’t make a big deal if anything she looked impressed.

“He has better taste than Stiles that’s for sure.” She snorted before turning both began picking more things to take.

You change in your cream T-shirt, your dusky pink overall dress and a pair or khaki green sneakers. You also threw on your fluffy teddy bear jacket just so you wouldn’t be too cold on the bike. It wasn’t exactly cold where you were but as you’d experienced when on a bike it can get cool you down pretty fast.

If you were human wearing a dress on a bike would be quite dangerous incase you fell off but even then Scott is a good rider and you’d probably trust him anyway. You packed your colouring pencils and colouring book, along with your favourite stuffie and your blanket.

You followed Lydia out your room to see Scott already waiting with a new cream teddy bear backpack. You squeaked excitedly as you put it on with Scott’s help. You’d seen if a few weeks ago but as usually you never managed to save enough before it came off the rack.

“Daddy got it for you a few weeks ago when you did so well in your last test.” Scott exclaimed playfully cupping your cheeks gently as he bent down to place a small kiss on the end of your nose.

“Thank you so much! I love you Daddy!” You giggled happily before throwing your arms around him.

“I love you too baby girl.” He chuckled wrapping his arms around you tightly.

“Right let’s get going they’ve already ordered food and if we don’t get there soon out food will be gone to the savagers.” Lydia grumbled as she looked at her phone. She grabbed the bags and walked out the door with Malia quietly following.

Scott hopped on his bike before you followed suit it was a little awkward because your dress was denim but you made it work before gripping onto Scott’s leather jacket covered waist. He smelt like leather and motor oil and a slight scent of disinfectant either from work or his mom. It smelt like home.

You arrived at the pack house and hopped off the bike quickly before running into the house with a giddy scream. Derek must’ve heard you because his head popped around the door with a smile.

“DerBear!” You giggled running up and launching yourself at him.

“Little one! How are you today?” Derek asked with a soft chuckle as he picked you up with one arm carrying you to the kitchen as Scott, Lydia and Malia followed.

“I’m okay but there was a stupid girl who was all touchy touchy with MY Daddy! Can you believe it!?” You huffed grumpily as you remembered this mornings events.

“So what did you do?” Derek gasped playing along with you annoyance.

“I was gonna rip her throat out with my teeth! But butt head Liam and Malia stopped me!” You growled over at Liam before glaring at Malia who threw her arms up in defence.

“That’s my girl.” Derek grinned proudly as Stiles rolled his eyes.

“Think you’ll find this little angry wolf is mine Hale.” Scott growled playfully as he took you from Dereks arms with a possessive glare on his face.

“Silly Daddy everyone knows that.” You sighed with an eye roll.

“Oooh is that right kitten?” Scott huffed a smile taking over his face.

“Mhmm.” You giggled before placing a chaste kiss on his lips.

“Come let’s go pick a film before food gets here.” Scott laughed before picking you up and carrying you out the kitchen to the front room.

Everyone was so normal and quiet as dinner went by. Despite the fact that Scott would occasionally wipe your face or call you a good girl for eating vegetables you didn’t overly like.

By the end of the film everyone was some how on the big ‘u’ shaped couch. Cory was sat on Mason’s lap on the left edge, Malia and Lydia were sat in the corner together under a blanket, you and Scott were sat in the middle of the ‘u’ cuddled up under your favourite blanket, Derek had Stiles on his lap tucked under his arm in the other corner and Liam and Hayden were cuddling at the other edge.

It was moments like this that made you love everything you had even more. You glanced up at Scott with a tired smile. He caught your eyes and gave you the sweetest smile. You reached up, placing a soft kiss on his lips before pulling back.

“I love you Daddy.” You whispered so quietly if Scott didn’t have wolf hearing you of doubted he heard it

“I love you too Princess, so much.” He chuckled squeezing your body tighter to his as if to prove it somehow.

“I’m so lucky to have you and this family.” You muttered, tears springing to your eyes.

“We’re just as lucky to have you baby girl.” Scott whispered lovingly, his hand caressing your face. You hoped the rest of your life could be spent like this. In Scott’s arms, the pack curling up around you and being able to slip whenever, because you know that your pack has your back.

Part 1 <;-

#imagines #teen wolf #teen wolf imagine #tw #scott mccall x reader #scott mccall fluff #scott mccall imagine #stiles #lydia martin #malia hale #Liam dundar #Mason tw #Cory tw #fluff #tw fluff #teen wolf fluff #requested

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honorary-knight-of-favonius · 1 year

Text

Kinktober Diluc -Day Twenty Six-

Tags for the day: Sensory deprivation and heat play

Summary: He needed to apologize he needed to get back in her good graces. He'd do anything to hear her voice, to see her, fuck even feel her. He was going insane but thankfully his insanity paid off.

For the next few weeks I adjusted my schedule and continued to ignore Diluc’s messages and calls. I changed to the after midnight shift and was always with Cerpus -Diluc’s dad- who even though was the fuck buddies dad was a dad to everyone who worked at the club which made it a lot more comfortable than being with Diluc.

“So kiddo I’m not trying to pry but did something happen between you and my boys?” Cerpus asked, in response I turned as red as his hair.

“Pfft. nothing happened, what would happen, haha, your mistaken Cerpus nothing ever happened between Diluc, Kaeya and I.” I said hurriedly.

“Uh huh, sure kiddo. Well Diluc asked if you’d want to join our family’s Halloween traditions.” I chuckled.

“Y-Yeah, no thanks I gotta make sure to pass out candy.” I say.

“Hmm, I guess I gotta tell Diluc you are avoiding him.” Cerpus said, I whipped my head to the red head.

“I’m sorry?” I asked

“Diluc believes you're avoiding him. I don’t remember how many times he’s asked me to tell you to respond to his calls and messages. Whatever happened between you two seems to be getting him fired up.” Cerpus said, pouring vodka shots.

“W-well I mean something did happen and I would like to avoid meeting with him after what happened. A-at least until I can face him without thinking about what happened.” Cerpus hummed and leaned against the counter.

“Did you confess to him?” He asked

“N-No. . .I Y’know I’m gonna clear that table.” I said excuse myself. Continuing to work. I worked until the club closed and Cerpus and I closed the club with a few other employees and right as he locked up the club he walked me to his car.

“You really should talk to that boy, he’s been driving me crazy because of you. Alright?” I smiled and drove home. That night I looked at the messages and voicemails Diluc left me.

“Hey I’m really sorry about Kaeya, he’s a fucking IDIOT! Please return my calls.”

“I know you probably don’t want to talk. I mean that was clear like 20ish messages and voicemails ago, but I really need to see you, please answer my calls.”

“Fuckin’ hell Y/n please! I-I know I’m partly to blame for Kaeya catching us b-but I can’t take this anymore, I really can’t. I-I don’t care if you don’t want me to look at you I will literally do anything you want at this point, even if meant having you fuck me with a toy I just need to know your-” The message cut off.

“Y/n please I. . .I need you. . .I need to hear your voice o-or at least tell me what you want. I feel like I’m going fucking crazy.”

“I’m sorry I keep calling you and leaving these damn voicemails. I-I know you probably want nothing to do with me after that but I can’t handle you ignoring me. . .” I could hear Diluc cry as he spoke, “Fuck, please call me back. Let me hear your voice. Fuck please~! I-I’ll get on my knees and beg I-I don’t care j-just please~ Please!” The rest of the messages are virtually the same, Diluc crying begging me to answer him. Making it very clear I could do anything to him as long as I went to him.

I bit my lip and called Diluc, when he answered he sounded like a horse as if he had been crying again but he sniffled and chuckled, “Y/N! I’m so sorry about everything that happened, I-I please come see me.” Diluc whined.

“I thought you were staying at your dad’s.” I say.

“I-I am. . .b-but I can totally go home!” I looked at the wall and sighed.

“Those bed strap cuffs you love using on me and a blindfold. I also want you to give me control.” I said, I could hear more sniffles.

“A-anything else?”

“I’ll bring the rest. Do you understand?” I asked, I could hear a door open and close then running before both Cerpus and Kaeya’s voice echoed into the phone questioning where the red head was going before I heard dangling keys and another door closed followed by a starting car.

“How long do I have?” He asked.

“Thirty-ish minutes depends on traffic.” I say.

“That’s more than enough time. I’ll guess we’ll meet soon.” I hummed and hung up. I went to my bedroom and got the candles I was given by a friend and a lighter before leaving my apartment heading to Diluc’s. When I had gotten there I parked and turned off my car ready to get out but rather stayed inside the car.

“What the fuck are you doing here Y/n? This is really sad even for you.” Is sighed resting my head on the wheel, “Your at your fuck buddy’s house so he can make it up to you for getting caught by his goddamn brother. I should just go home.” I groaned, turning my car back on, then I screamed and turned it back off.

“God I am pathetic,” cursed, I got a text and opened my phone.

‘Waiting for you like you.’ This message paired with a winky face made me slam my head into the horn before grabbing my bag and leaving the car park and going to the man’s apartment where I opened the door and saw all the lights but the kitchen’s off. I went to the kitchen and saw a glass of Zinfandel on the counter with the rest of the bottle. I hummed and downed the drink like a shot before snatching the bottle and shaking out the nerves and heading to the bedroom where I saw the redhead strapped to the bed naked in all of his German glory. I snapped myself out of the trance I was in and put the wine bottle on his nightstand, setting my bag down on the bed and digging through it.

“Italian leather. . .T-that’s the bag I got you right?” Diluc asked hesitantly, he must think I’m someone else. Mainly because if I answered yes he knew I was someone else. He’s never given me a leather bag, actually he’s never given me anything but an orgasm.

“No, it’s some cheap bag I bought in a thrift store.” I corrected it. The man took a deep sigh and smiled sweetly.

“I-I thought you wouldn’t come and my servants would see me like this rather than you.” He chuckled, I hummed and took out the bundle of safe sex candles and my lighter before throwing the bag into a chair in the bedroom.

“A-are you alright? You sound. . .” I was undressing as he was talking but before he could make his own answer I cut him off.

“I’m drinking your Zinfandel so I’m getting drunk.”

“S-so you are drinking it. . .Why? You don’t normally drink.” I was left in my underwear and went to the bed again.

“I’m a quiet drunk, It’ll help me not expose myself to you.” I say.

“Expose? I told you I don’t care if you use me.” I hummed.

“Shut up, pretty boy. I’m in control tonight and I will not have you ruining this.” I scolded using a hand to squish his face. He nodded and I took one of the many candles, I chose the golden colored one before lighting it and putting it in a candle holder that just so happened to be empty.

“Hehe. . .setting the mood is really useless because I-” I grabbed his face again.

“You talk when you're nervous. If you don’t want this I’ll unstrap you from this bed and leave.” I said, the man tried to sit up but his bounds kept him down.

“N-No! If you leave now you’ll just keep ignoring me! A-and I can’t handle you ignoring me.” He sounded so hurt. I sighed and plopped my ass on his bed.

“I’m not doing anything that’ll hurt you.” I say.

“I-I know you wouldn't, t-that's why I offered my body.” I hummed and by the time I lit the candle and talked to Diluc it began to melt. I grabbed in and straddled my hips. I quickly tested the wax temperature on the back of my hand before letting the hot substance land on DIluc who gasped and squirmed under me.

“I-Is that wax?” I slipped my panties to the side and welcomed the man’s cock inside like I had done a few weeks prior, “F-fuck, you feel. . .shit I missed- Damn it that’s hot.” the bartender hissed. I smirked and bounced on his cock as I continued to allow the wax drip onto his body writing the word ‘Mine’ from his chest to his belly button. When I was finally happy with how the message was written I let the wax continue until the flame went out.

“Y/n? F-fuck a-are you done with the candle?” Diluc moaned. I smirked and put my hands on his chest and pulled him into a passionate kiss as I began to cry. Diluc began struggling before I felt that knot getting tighter and tighter until it unraveled and both Diluc and I came. I of course got off, left the note I had written ages ago and got all dressed before taking my bag and taking off the bindings before heading to the door

“Y/n if you want you can stay the night.” As he finished his words I left the apartment silently crying as I headed to my car. I got in and began driving home only to pull over and turn off the car.

“D-damn it Diluc! I-I can’t fucking believe I cried while doing that! Damn it! Why did I have to love him!” I rested my head on the wheel crying as I realized my feelings for Diluc weren’t going away and that whole situation made me realize that he only sees me as a fuck buddy.

“I don’t believe in god, please go away.” Just then I heard my own voice.

“Why did I have to love him?!. . .Damn it Diluc!” I opened my eyes to see the red head with the sweetest smile and some kind of bag in one hand while the other held his phone.

“If I knew you felt the same I would’ve asked you out a lot sooner.” He laughed. I went bright red and ran to my bedroom and hid myself under the blanket in shame. He followed me and planted a sweet kiss on my embarrassed state before leaving for my kitchen. Throughout the entire day Diluc took care of my hangover state and reassured me he did love me, only making me even more embarrassed than before.

Taglist:

@stygianoir @yunadxd @akenofujihara

#genshin x reader #genshin impact smut #genshin imagines #sub!genshin #genshin impact #kinktober #sub!genshin impact #dom!reader #sub!diluc #Favonian Archive

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swervenation · 1 year

Text

Swerve x Human Liaison Reader PART 3

Another continuation of the fanfic inspired by @i-starcreamed: Swerve + a human liaison who starts off as quiet and distant. This is gonna be long as hell tho, I’m 5k words in and not even halfway done.

1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / ?

The song for this chapter is overdone but whatever.

The following day, you were working as diligently as always. You were proofreading a scheduled update on post-war developments for Earth with Ultra Magnus. (He was, by far, the bot you spoke with most aboard the Lost Light. Still, your conversations never got more personal than talking about rhetoric.) The two of you were debating the use of an Oxford comma in your report when Rung came by and asked for a moment of your time; you put a swift end to your quarrel by sending your message according to your grammatical tastes. Magnus opened his mouth as if to further argue, but looking at Rung, paused, closed his optics, and you could swear he took a deep meditative breath before nodding at you and walking off. Given the effect he had on your colleague and his slim un-warlike frame, it was easy to deduce his identity as a distinctive recurring character in Swerve’s tales.

As he approached you with intent and far too much warmth to be genuine, alarms went off in your brain… were you in trouble? Did they think you were mentally unstable? You controlled your voice and introduced yourself, then, before he could answer, you said, “You’re Rung, the ship’s psychiatrist - correct?”

Rung was somewhat taken aback that you knew who he was (and pronounced his name right, at that.) “Why, yes! How did you know?” His head was cocked in genuine confusion as he offered his servo for a handshake; the familiar gesture made you smile. Swerve had been the only other bot to extend the Terran introduction. This guy must have done some research on your culture beforehand.*

You didn’t really want to tell him he matched the description of the guy Swerve used as a weapon to bravely rescue Thunderclash, Rodimus, and Magnus. “Lucky guess. Is something the matter?”

“Not at all. I thought you might be having some difficulty adjusting to life on the ship, so I wanted to extend my services to you. I would have done so earlier, but I only recently learned that human and Cybertronian psychology were similar enough to make the offer useful to you.”

You realized this was the perfect opportunity to learn more about the way your crewmates acted and thought and accepted, deciding to meet when you were done with work that day. This was an opportunity for you - you’d pretend to benefit from therapy (because you were fine and everything was fine and you DON’T have self-confidence issues) in order to do more research.

You were about to turn back to your work when Tailgate came in - he and Rung greeted each other as they passed. He too walked right up to you.

“Hello, Tailgate, what brings you up here? I’m afraid you just missed Ultra Magnus, but I can go get him for you.”

“Actually, I came here to see you!” His voice was cheerful, even if you couldn’t read his hidden expression.

“Really?” A twinge of panic. Did this have to do with last night? Or had you done something else noticeable, without realizing it?

“Yeah! I know you usually sit alone in your little penthouse, so I wanted to invite you to sit at the bar with me and my friends.”

“O- oh. At Swerve’s? Right up there, at the bar? Well, I’m worried I’d get crush. Crushed. Whirl almost sat on me when I first came in.”

“Don’t worry, we’d look after you! Cyclonus is a great bodyguard,” he remarked, gushing over him. You knew that those two were an item, and maybe Cyclonus wasn’t as scary as he looked. But still. You weren’t eager to come face to face with him after that glare he gave you. You knew some bots held grudges against organics, and you worried that he was one of them. “Actually, you could probably sit on the bar. That would keep you safe, and I don’t think Swerve would mind.”

The suggestion made your blood run cold. You thought about it often enough. Your legs dangling over the bar, onto his side - you’d probably kick them mindlessly like you usually do when you’re really absorbed in his storytelling. Sometimes, you preferred to imagine you were invisible in this scenario - same deal as the organic suite, but with a better view. Other times, you’re chiming in with witty comments that everyone appreciates. Especially him. Laughter lights up his face and you’re in the blast radius of that breathtaking smile. Maybe he looks at you as you make your remarks, the way you look at him. Maybe you don’t look away from him, maybe you’re so sure of yourself and so sure that you can fit in this alien setting that you don’t even flinch when you make eye contact. A favorite version is when you stay as the bots trickle out for the night, so lost in conversation that you forget to leave. He’d have his work cut out for him, cleaning up, but you’d slip onto the other side of the bar and help out. He would be moved. He would offer to escort you to your habsuite on the other side of the ship. On the walk, you would string together a magic combination of words which would -

“You okay?”

“Oh! Yeah. I, um, I’m not sure. I mean, I really appreciate the offer. It’s just. I. Uh.” You could not think of a single excuse. You moved your hands around as though you were still speaking and looked up at Tailgate. Your throat was dry, you couldn’t breathe. “I’m … Not … ” you squeaked out, somehow unable to shake the last word from the tip of your tongue even after a few excruciating seconds. Gesturing hopelessly at yourself, you wished that he could understand this floundering charade. Ready. I’m not ready.

Tailgate was puzzled by this malfunction. He didn’t know what the end of that sentence was, but it certainly wasn’t good. “Oh … ok … bye, see ya.” He felt like he had made a fool of himself as he left. He should’ve stuck with his gut and not listened to Cyclonus. Here he was, going out of his way to be rejected.

You couldn’t handle thinking about your absolute failure. At least not until your appointment with Rung. When you had blazed through your tasks for the day, you asked Magnus for more work to do. Anything to put off remembering that interaction. He instantly forgot your grammatical spat and was thrilled by your burgeoning workaholism, especially since he himself was drowning in responsibilities. It felt good to be appreciated. It’s possible you were rather starved for any positive interaction.

Well aware that it might be a little pathetic, you were rather excited for your appointment with Rung. He was about as unintimidating as giant robots came, and you imagine he’d understand your floundering more than the others, if not help you stop it.

---

For the first part of the session, he asked for the broad strokes of your personal history. When he started asking about your life on the ship, though, you were reluctant to speak.

“Have you made any friends on the Lost Light?"

“I don’t think so,” you mumbled.

“ Have you been socializing with anybody on board?”

“Ultra Magnus, I suppose.”

“Great! He’s very level-headed, very responsible, it makes sense that you’d get along. I’m glad to hear you’re spending time with him outside of work.” He jotted down some notes but, looking back at you, noticed that your expression was contorted, as though you were considering correcting that assumption. “... Outside of work, right?”

“... No.”

“Hm. I’m noticing there isn’t much of an ‘outside of work’ for you. So, what drew you to this work?” Rung asked, closing his datapad. “Most ‘liaisons’ we’ve had on board were here mostly for the adventure. If I may be so bold, that doesn’t seem to be your motivation.”

“Are you trying to tell me you don’t think arguing with Magnus about punctuation is adventurous?” you laughed.

“Perilous? Maybe. Adventurous? I don’t think so.”

Your humor apparently wasn’t enough to deflect this line of questioning. With his head tilted, hands folded on his lap, optics on you, and expression accepting and curious, you couldn’t help but answer. “It’s … rather creepy. But I’m kind of fascinated by Cybertronians.” You went on to describe how much you’ve studied to prepare for a diplomatic role like this one, learning as much as you could to be able to understand and interact with their species.

“That’s not strange at all,” he assured you, “Especially considering the impact our kind had on your planet. I know some bots on this ship with a similar appreciation for Earth culture, actually. Anyways, what’s become of that fascination?”

“Now that I’m here, it makes me feel … paralyzed. Suddenly you all are more than a history lesson or a TV program or a textbook diagram. After waiting for an opportunity like this for so long, I’m afraid I’ll mess up and make everyone on the ship hate me.” Something about him made it difficult for you to keep any of these thoughts to yourself.

“I sincerely doubt that’s possible. Someone on this ship shot me in the head, and I’m still friends with him.” Seeing your dropped jaw and utter confusion, he helpfully explained, “Don’t worry, I got better. The point is, it’s more difficult than you think to ‘mess up.’”

“But just after we met earlier today, I did just that. Tailgate invited me to hang out tonight with him at Swerve’s -” your throat caught at this name but you powered on. “I was so nervous, I said no … but I couldn’t come up with a good reason why. I panicked so hard that I couldn’t even explain why I was panicking - I probably gave him the impression I dislike him.”

You began to lament that you destroyed any chance of friendship with him, but Rung pointed out that the ‘damage’ wasn’t irreparable - you shouldn’t assume Tailgate was unwilling to hear your explanation. So you drafted a comms message to Tailgate, with Rung stepping in to ask therapist-y questions and give therapist-y advice. (“You apologize repeatedly - why do you think that is?”) You thought the message was pretty effective:

Hi, Tailgate! Your invitation was such a pleasant surprise. I’m sorry if it seemed like I didn’t care to spend time with you. I turned your offer down because, although I would really like to get to know you, I’m still very nervous on this ship. A crowded environment like the bar would overwhelm me right now. Would you be interested in hanging out on the observation deck instead?

You smiled as you sent it off. It felt like a weight had been lifted from you. But now, there was the new pressure of waiting for his response. Would he believe you? Would he hold a gr- nevermind, he already responded. That was quick! You would see him tomorrow after work, but right now, you were ready to curl up in your own room. No Swerve’s tonight - but you weren’t so convinced anymore that you’d never return to your favorite bar.

---

Rung, on the other hand, was at Swerve’s. He was having a pleasant conversation with Nightbeat when the bartender abandoned his post to interrupt him.

“Hey, Rung,” Swerve said as he tucked one shanix into a compartment on the psychiatrist’s shoulder, “That’s my copay - you’re my counselor now, so you’re legally not allowed to tell anyone what I say to you.” He remembered something like this from Breaking Bad. Granted, that was a fictional show set in an entirely alien legal system, and the guy who was paid was a lawyer, not a psychologist - but the same rules probably applied.

“That’s not how it works,” Rung sighed, “But I can promise you as a friend I’ll keep it between us.”

“Gotcha - anyways, I’m worried about y/n. They always show up here, no matter how much work they have, but they didn’t come tonight.”

Rung cocked his head, unsure what Swerve wanted him to do with this information, and unsure of why you didn’t mention your constant visits to the bar. “Why do you need this to be confidential, exactly?”

“Well, why do I say anything? I thought it was funny. It’s an Earth joke - trust me, if you were Terran, you’d be rolling. But it’s all good, man.” (a smile to himself.) “Seriously, though, I know they like staying on the sidelines,” he chattered as he gestured to your ‘organic suite,’ “So I don’t think they’d want people speculating on their disappearance.”

“Aside from yourself, I take it?”

“I’m not gossiping, I’m just worried! I wanted to mention it to you because I know you talk to them.”

“Who - how do you know what patients I’m seeing?”

“Heh. You just told me.” Swerve smirked in spite of himself. He always wanted to use that line. “But in all seriousness, I didn’t mean ‘talk’ in a professional way. Tailgate just told me he bumped into you two earlier today.”

Rung rubbed his helm in frustration. “There are a lot of bots on this ship - a lot of them my clients - that would jump in an escape pod were they suspected of caring for their mental health. Why is Tailgate going around telling people who’s seen with me?”

“Don’t blame Tailgate.” Swerve jumped to the defense of his friend, perhaps a little thoughtlessly. “I asked.”

“You … asked?”

“I was just wondering about them, because they weren’t here, you know? And he just told me he’d invited them to sit at the bar earlier today, and they reacted strangely, so I just asked for context.” His already fast rambling sped up frantically. “They said this place was too ‘overwhelming.’ I still thought I’d see them here, though. They’re always here. They’ve seemed perfectly whelmed this whole time. What could it mean? Do you think they’re sick? Did they get in trouble? Are they alright, do you know what’s going on? Do they not like my bar anymore, I-”

“Okay, I’m keeping this ‘copay,’” Rung patted the compartment Swerve tossed the Shanix into, “And you’re coming to my office tomorrow. Let’s plan on two cycles before you open.” He was already entering it into the calendar on his datapad.

everyone is going on a mental health JOURNEY we are becoming MINDFUL

“Wh- huh? What? Why?!” - Rung opened his mouth to respond - “Actually, don’t answer that. Fine. Whatever. I’ll be there,” then, glancing back to the bar and racing back to his usual spot, “Hands off, Getaway, I’ll pour it myself! If you break that distillery, you’re paying for it!”

---

pls lmk how characterization is for rung and swerb, i’m not sure i got it right. you can pry the breaking bad jokes from my cold dead hands tho. also ik i’m being silly with mags, i think i deserve that as a treat :3

#swerve x reader #mtmte #lost light #i always feel weird tagging this. what if people find it.#tf x reader #transformers x reader #x reader #fanfic #my stuff #should i tag this rung for my future reference? because he gets like THE most screentime here.#fuck it #rung #swerve

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ryuttaeng · 2 years

Note

You're back!! Can you write a jealous!reader smut with ryujin after she sees the boys like you mv?

pairing: ryujin x female!reader

summary: a lot of going on right now as her group had a busy schedule with upcoming comeback and world tour. as their music video for their pre-release english single was uploaded, you immediately opened it to see it. Ryujin said that the music video would be cute, she didn’t lied though, but seeing how that guy in video would stare at your girlfriend and would have a scene where he holds her waist totally pissed you off.

genre: smut with slightest angst (not much dw)

warnings: smut, minors dni. fingering, strong language/swearing, strap-on, jealous!reader, degradation, rough sex.

a/n: yes i’m back!! missed writing tho… also very excited for itzy’s comeback!

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Ryujin had a busy schedule, as she and her group had an upcoming comeback with a world tour week after their pre-release english single would’ve released. She had to stay in entertainment building for almost all day, practicing harder than ever. When the day their single should be released, your girlfriend texted you before the music video came out.

ryuddaeng❤️: it’s gonna be out in two minutes

you: ahh i can’t wait!

you: bet you look gorgeous

ryuddaeng❤️: i always do wdym

Receiving a notification from their channel that they have uploaded a new video immediately getting your attention. Constantly clicking on it, preparing to watch the video as your girlfriend texted you. You briefly texted her back, not wanting to miss something in music video, excitedly watching it. Your eyes lit up when you saw your girlfriend appear, making your heart beat faster. Smile on your face faded when that guy looked at her in an awkward way. When that guy placed his hand on her waist you turned off the video. You knew that acting was part of her job, that their skinship was scripted but the way she would glance back at him was too much.

You could hear your phone blowing up with notifications from your girlfriend that wanted to know your opinion of the music video but you wouldn’t dare to look at your phone. Was she always that flirty with guys? What if she find that guy in music video attractive? If so, was that a reason behind her flirtatious look? You always noticed that your girlfriend had a kind of flirtatious behaviour with everyone, but didn’t really payed attention to that before you saw that music video.

Ryujin finally stepped in apartment, taking off her clothes. She stood in hallway, waiting you to come to her, but you didn’t. Furrowing her eyebrows, she called you out, not waiting for you to come already, looking for you. “Babe, I’m home! Have you already watched our music video?” she walked in, as her smile slowly faded. You sat on the couch, back straight and suspiciously silent. She didn’t liked that. Approaching you, she wanted to talk with you but was interrupted by your lips crashing into hers.

Roughly kissing her, deepening the kiss, you pulled her hair, breaking the kiss. Barely letting Ryujin to adjust, as your hands were already slid down to her underwear. “Yes, I have watched the music video but your fucking annoying glances you would give him… I didn’t like that.” you let your fingers sunk in her wetness, surprising for you as you barely did anything to her.

Letting out a moan, Ryujin tried to wrap her arms around your neck but you pinned them down, not letting her to do. You continued your pumps in an out, fastening each seconds, not letting her to adjust. “Is this wetness caused by me or you’re thinking of that guy’s cock?” girl under you could only mutter out something, probably denying your thoughts, but her moans made it hard to understand what she was saying. You peeled out your fingers, causing Ryujin whine at the loss, but then replace it with a scream.

“You can’t stop thinking about him, don’t you, slut?” you spat out, sounding surprisingly for her venomously. Almost ripping off her sweatpants along with panties, you spread her legs, giving yourself more space. Ryujin’s heavy breathing, trying to answer you something, but decided not to, feeling your degrading wouldn’t stop. She raised her head to look at you as you went silent for a few seconds but was forced to lay down, feeling a strap-on teasing her entrance.

You filled her up, causing her to let out a drained, yet satisfied scream. “You like this don’t you? Needy whore.” you pulled out almost fully to push back in full length, causing your girlfriend to moan louder each time. “Please… Please, Y/N…” Ryujin whimpered with each thrust in, as you wouldn’t slow down a bit. “Please what? Try at least put up a sentence right before speaking. You want me to keep going? Such a slut for me, aren’t you?” you hissed out first sentence, fastening your movements.

Clenching down on strap-on, making it quite difficult to move, you rubbed her clit that made her reach her climax finally. Working on her clit and continuing your thrusts, that Ryujin tried to scream, but her voice was gone already. Letting her ride out her high, few minutes later pulling out, looking at her chest as she breathed heavily.

“Are you really jealous? That guy looked kinda funny though.”

“No I’m not.”

#itzy #itzy ryujin #ryujin #ryujin x reader #itzy smut #itzy hard hours #ryujin smut #ryujin x female!reader

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c1tyhaunts · 2 months

Text

Anyway I’m talking to the air here: I’ve been really enjoying plotting dynamics out to build muse to write them out, and stuff that’s going to be more story-driven, and having a good dynamic with my writing partners is important for my muse/motivative. So as a heads up, I’m probably gonna be more selective in stuff I reply to and might not reblog a lot of ask memes to avoid impulsively starting something only to drop it. Some things I’m gonna do later today after a quick appointment:

- Gonna clean up muse profiles for the 50th time to adjust their canons more to a modern, realistic setting and putting their modern fantasy influences as an alt universe due to where my interests in writing is - only exceptions would be Manny (due to his original canon being too good), and hopefully Aya once I get her profile together. Especially with how closely tied they are to @samuhelll universe

- Gonna cop @artmadc style and write out a Dynamics Wishlist/Plotting Shorthand of what dynamics EYE think work best for my muses so it’ll be easier for anyone interested in interacting with characters on this blog given I got a good handle of what these characters will tolerate and not tolerate (and how fun that’ll be).

- Activity will be LOW for the most part still, and I’ll put out a lil writing schedule on the pinned post - work takes priority during the week, so I’m trying to hone in on that and will write on tumblr over the weekend when I get the time. I’m gonna go back to my short hand of: all replies/starters will be QUEUED, headcanons or musings will be posted when I feel like it. Be patient with me <3

- I’m always open to RP / Plot via Discord (as it’s easier for my dumb brain lol), so that’s the best way to get in touch with me and it’s the place I’m most active on. So feel free to hit me up at any time ! :) @ jacket.jpg.

#▶⌜national announcements :: PSAs⌟#▶⌜dead air :: ooc⌟#I like to describe this as: making things simple stupid #this was me randomly ranting so i can better assess what i want to do with this blog #to keep my writing high and my happiest prime

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cantstoptheimagines · 2 years

Text

Footprints (Holland!Peter Parker | MCU)

Summary — Every morning, you wake up to find footprints on your window. You hatch a plan to finally catch the culprit.

Warnings & Other Tags ➳ Literally just a fluffy, comedy piece; friendly teasing between Reader and MJ; mentions of sleepovers and sharing a bed (platonic); cursing; Reader is friends with MJ, but doesn’t know Peter.

Notes ➳ Word Count is 733. ➳ Reader is gender neutral (they/them).

MJ thought you had finally lost it.

At first, she hadn’t believed you when you told her that footprints were being left on the glass of your bedroom window each night while you slept. When she realized that Peter Parker lived in the apartment above yours, however, she immediately knew who was behind it.

Not that she could tell you, of course. She couldn’t just reveal Peter’s biggest secret just because you were tired of buying a new bottle of Windex every week. Now, however, she was thinking that it might be better that you knew Peter’s secret as she watched you set up a cheap motion detector on your fire escape.

But then again... this could be rather entertaining.

When you turned back to her with a loud sigh, she raised her eyebrows, and asked, “You sure about this?”

“Not really,” you said, “but it’s all I got right now... so I’m gonna go with it.”

MJ gave you a slow nod, “This is the weirdest sleepover I’ve ever been to.”

“Isn’t this the only sleepover you’ve ever been to?”

MJ narrowed her eyes at you, and muttered, “Not the point. Can we actually go to sleep now? It’s almost midnight and we have a test tomorrow.”

You let out a dramatic groan, “Ugh! Fine! I can’t believe you’re secretly a dork.”

MJ rolled her eyes before throwing a pillow at you with a smirk, “Whatever. I’m not the one setting up a stakeout in their bedroom.”

Surprisingly, you let her have the last word, too focused on your goal of catching the so-called ‘Window Wrongdoer’. As the two of you climbed beneath your blankets, MJ couldn’t help but wonder how Peter was going to react to his latest adversary.

MJ woke up with a start. She blinked repeatedly as her eyes tried to adjust to the darkness of your bedroom. She quickly turned on the lamp that sat by your bed. She frowned at the sight of you disappearing through your window and running up the fire escape.

She quickly realized what was happening. She quietly sighed, rolling her eyes as she turned off your bedside lamp, “Parker, you moron.”

While your friend tried to return to her peaceful slumber, you were far too busy wrapping your hand around the ankle of your archrival. Pulling hard, you and the figure tumbled to the landing of the fire escape with a loud THUD!

“What the—?”

“Dude, stop fucking up my window!”

Scrambling to his feet, Peter felt the eyes of his mask widen. He held his hands up in defense. He recognized you from school, but wasn’t sure of your name, only that you were friends with MJ... and that you were pissed.

“I—uhm—!” he stuttered. “What?!”

“Oh, please!” you exclaimed. “You heard what I said! Look, I know you’re a hero and everything, and believe me, I appreciate what you do, but stop leaving footprints on my window! I’m tired of wasting so much money on glass cleaner, asshole!”

Peter looked down at where you were pointing. Despite your bedroom window being up, he could clearly see what you were talking about. There were footprints on the glass. And honestly, he didn’t blame you for being upset. May probably would’ve killed him for doing that to their own apartment.

“I’m sorry!” he apologized, placing his hands on your shoulders. “I guess I wasn’t paying attention.”

“Well, maybe, from now on, you can use the stairs,” you scoffed, before stepping away and forcing his hands to return to his sides. “If it happens again, I will find out which apartment you’re in, Spidey. That’s a promise.”

The masked hero nodded frantically. You almost smiled when he gave you a salute. Almost.

You turned, descending the fire escape and climbing through your bedroom window. You quickly climbed back into your bed with a satisfied sigh, “Got that settled.”

“Good,” muttered MJ, her face smushed up against one of your pillows. “Now you can finally shut up about it. It’s literally three o’clock in the morning.”

You conceded to her demands and quickly fell asleep. The next evening, you arrived home later than usual. Opening your curtains to look at the setting sun, you found a note, along with a twenty dollar bill, taped to your window.

‘Sorry for making you buy so much Windex. Hopefully this covers it! - SM, the Footprint Fiend’

#2022 #mcu #mcu imagine #mcu imagines #mcu x reader #peter parker imagines #peter parker imagine #peter parker x reader #spiderman imagine #spiderman imagines #spiderman x reader #footprints

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trulymadlysydney · 2 years

Text

Wait For Me in the Sky: Eleven

“I’m gonna go now,” she says quietly, after a long pause. She sniffs again. “I’m sorry. I.. I promise I didn’t call you just to make you listen to me cry.”

And how can Harry tell her that he would sit and listen to her cry for hours, just to have the chance to be talking to her again?

“It’s okay,” he says, his voice cracking slightly. “I am glad you called.”

“You don’t have to call me ever again after this, Harry. I didn’t mean to stir up old shit, or--”

“Hey. I want to. Having you in my life is enough. Okay? Just having you in my life again is more than enough for me.”

Mars laughs, almost out of disbelief and sounding somewhat relieved. “Yeah,” she says, voice still wet. “Yeah I agree.”

“Get some sleep, love.” Harry doesn’t want to be telling her that. He wants to keep talking to her, until he knows she’s done crying. “You have to get to Dallas in five hours.’

Mars laughs. “I don’t think I’m going to be able to sleep at this point.”

“Just try,” Harry encourages. “A little is better than nothing.”

“Yeah,” Mars agrees, slowly. “Okay.”

***DO NOT REPOST WITHOUT PERMISSION***

(as a quick side note, this chapter contains elements of like.. kind of sexual harassment about halfway through. It's nothing too graphic, but just know that it's there!)

Get all caught up HERE

HARRY

February 26th, 2020

“Harry, you’re on in ten.”

Harry looks up from his phone, smiling as politely as he can manage at the woman with a clipboard. Normally he’s quite good at remembering names, however he cannot for the life of him remember hers Although, to be fair, he has quite a lot on his mind. He clicks his home button off and shoves his phone into his bag on the table. “Thanks,” he says.

He really should be more enthusiastic than he is.

“Are you excited?” Glenne pipes up from her corner of the room, setting her own phone down on the table.

Harry smiles at her, quirking his eyebrows up playfully. “Nervous,” he teases.

Glenne rolls her eyes, rising to her feet and making her way over to Harry. “Oh please,” she says. She lightly adjusts the lapel of his suit, straightening out the invisible creases she sees. “You’re not nervous at all.”

Harry chuckles. “I am, too,” he says, although Glenne is right. Sure, he’s got a bit of pre-show jitters. But honestly, he’s just excited to get back out there. To forget everything that's on his mind.

For the first time in ages, he is 100% completely alone; which sounds more dramatic than it is. He hadn’t gone back to Nicole after Mars had left him that night in Saint Thomas. In fact, he’d blocked her on everything-- from both his regular instagram and his burner account. It had felt right, although he knew that it wasn’t going to bring Mars back to him. He knew Mars wasn’t going to want to hear from him again-- probably ever-- so in truth, he was blocking Nicole as more of a way to heal himself.

And it had worked in the exact way he’d wanted it to. He’d started focusing more on himself, on his album. Working out the details of his upcoming tour, scheduling promo interviews and rehearsing for a completely choreography-based music video-- somewhat out of his comfort zone but a thrilling challenge nonetheless. He could feel himself doing better without the constant cloud that was Nicole looming over his head.

Except it welcomed room for another looming thought-- one that weighed heavy on his heart with every passing day.

At its best, it had just been a lingering little ache in his brain throughout his days. Seeing a small flower on the sidewalk that he knows Mars’ would have loved to receive a picture of, or hearing a song on the radio that he’s certain Mars’ would’ve shared with him months before it made its way to the charts.

But at its worst, it was nasty. It was self-deprecating. It was a constant nagging voice in his head-- a reminder that he fucked up. He found someone who meant more to him than anyone in the world and he lost her. That was on him. And he hated himself for it.

With every passing day, he’d tried focusing on other things. And sometimes, that was all he’d needed. Sometimes, in fact, he’d been too busy to even think much about his personal life-- what with album promo and music video filming and everything in between. But it had always been there, picking at the back of his brain until it manifested itself physically into a migraine.

And it’s here today; just not loud and in his face like it is some days. Just quietly there, like a dark gray rain cloud threatening to unleash its fury on him at any second.

“You’re going to do great.” Glenne’s voice pulls Harry from his thoughts.

He smiles at her. “Yeah?”

“Mm.” Glenne studies him for a moment, lips curving slowly into the subtlest frown as her eyes narrow ever so slightly. Harry knows that look. Harry hates that look.

“What?” he asks, although he knows what she’s going to say.

“What’s going on in your brain right now?” She takes a step towards him. “You’re off.”

Harry hates how well his friends know him. “I’m not off,” he lies.

“You are. We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to, but…” She lowers her voice. “Nicole?”

“Fucks sake,” Harry groans. “No, it’s not Nicole. How many times do I--”

“I know, I know!” Glenne puts her hands up defensively. “I’m sorry. It’s just… she had a knack for popping up at the worst times and I--”

“It’s not Nicole,” Harry says, definitively. “Nicole is long gone. I know you don’t believe me, but she is. And she has been for a while.”

Glenne softens the slightest bit. “It’s not that I don’t believe you, Harry.”

They stand in silence, Harry realizing that he’s snapped at her unnecessarily, and he sighs. “Sorry. It’s--”

“Mars.” Glenne finishes his sentence for him before he can. She offers him the faintest, most sympathetic yet all-knowing smile. “It is, isn’t it?”

Harry freezes, licking his lips and considering his words. Glenne steps towards him gently. “Have you spoken to her?”

“No,” Harry says. “I haven’t.”

“Have you thought about--”

“No.” His tone is a bit more pointed. “I haven’t.”

Glenne eyes him before letting out a sigh, shoulders dropping. “But don’t you think--”

“I love you Glenne, but I don’t want to do this right now. Not right before a show. Genuinely.”

Glenne turns to Jeff, who Harry realizes has been watching from his spot on the couch this entire time. Jeff glances nervously from Glenne to Harry, as if only just now realizing that he may have to say something. He clears his throat. “Maybe this isn’t the time,” he admits, “but I think it bears saying that we’re… concerned.”

Harry rolls his eyes. “So you’re choosing now to bring this up?”

Glenne groans. “I’m sorry!” she says. “I shouldn’t have… it’s just--”

“You’re not the same, Harry,” Jeff says, coming to Glenne’s rescue and annoying the shit out of Harry.

“I just--”

‘And we don’t have to talk about it any longer if you don’t want to.” Jeff rises to his feet and continues speaking. “I get it. It’s a sensitive spot. It’s just that… I dunno, man. You’re not you.”

Harry wants to say something defensive back, but he squashes it in his throat because, deep down, he knows they’re right. He lets out all of his breath in a sigh, glancing between his two best friends. “Have you spoken to her?”

Both men’s eyes fall on Glenne, and she squirms in place. “A little,” she admits. “Not like, frequently or anything. It’s been a minute. But--”

“And?” Harry asks, quicker than intended. “Is she alright?”

Glenne glances nervously between Jeff and Harry, as if unsure how to answer the question (or if she even should answer it). “I mean,” she starts slowly, “from what I gather she’s alright.”

Harry chuckles quietly. “Of course she is,” he says with a shrug. “No reason not to be.”

“But that doesn’t mean--”

“Look,” Harry says. “I love you guys. I do. But the Mars chapter of my life is closed. It’s not going to be reopened.”

“Fine, it’s closed,” Jeff cuts in again. “I understand, man. Trust me. But something does have to change. We’re worried about you.”

“And what exactly should change?” Harry shakes his head. “I appreciate the concern, but there’s really nothing any of us can do, is there?”

The silence between the three is thick following Harry’s words, and Glenne is the first to break it by clearing her throat. “I didn’t mean to turn this into such a big deal.”

Harry lets out a long, slow breath from his nose, his blood pressure rising. “It’s not,” he says. “Not a big deal. Sorry, it’s… I didn’t mean to respond like--”

“It’s okay,” Jeff says. “I’m sorry we brought this up now.”

The three friends glance between one another, waiting to see who’s going to be the first to speak again. Harry shrugs. “Look, I appreciate it,” he says slowly. “Genuinely. I’m sorry. I just… I don’t think it’s something I’m ready to talk about.”

“Understandable,” Jeff says. “Seriously.”

“But I do appreciate the concern and I’ll… try and see if I can maybe… change something. I don’t know.”

“We love you,” Jeff replies, “and we hate seeing you like this.”

Harry nods, feeling like a dog with his tail tucked between his legs. “I know.”

Jeff grabs Harry’s shoulder supportively. No more words are exchanged, but the squeeze Jeff gives Harry’s shoulder is enough. He gently nudges him on his way with a nod.

Harry turns to leave, then stops. “Glenne, I-- if you do talk to her, could you let her know I--” He trails off, then shakes his head. “Sorry. God. Stupid. Nevermind.”

“It’s not stupid!” Glenne says, as encouragingly as she can manage. “I just think… maybe, anything you might want to tell her may be better received if it’s coming from you?”

Harry chews the inside of his cheek. She’s right… but god, he wishes she wasn’t.

“She’s right,” Jeff pipes up again. Of course he does.

Harry says nothing. Jeff adds, “Just think about it.”

Just think about it, he says. As if Harry has done anything but.

Harry clears his throat and nods in finality before making his way to the exit of the building. He can already hear the screams of the crowd in Rockefeller Plaza before he even reaches the door, and he knows they’re about to get much louder.

He wonders if Mars is watching on a television of her own wherever she is in the world, and then he hates himself for entertaining that thought.

Of course she’s not. She’s busy.

He pushes open the door to Rockefeller Center, unable to hide the smile on his face the moment he hears everyone’s screams increase in volume. It’s like a switch flips in his brain; like he’s no longer Harry, now he’s Harry Styles.

It’s an incredible feeling, to find that balance between who he is and who he shares with those who consider themselves fans of his. Of course it’s all him, and he tries-- genuinely-- to bring his most authentic self to the forefront of everything he does. And it works, for the most part. But still, it's nice sometimes to flip that switch. To become the person that he absolutely in no way feels like he is right now. To forget, however temporarily, the Harry that lost someone who just might have been the love of his life and remember that he’s the Harry who just released an album that these people are here for.

And so, he becomes that Harry in his entirety. He plays for these people, he teases them, he holds professional yet playful interviews and watches amusedly as a fan loses her ever loving mind over simply winning tickets to see him. He tries to ignore the way his pink suit clings to his skin in the humidity, and he can feel his curls-- which have been perfectly styled-- become frizzy with the rain. He is as professional as possible, but he is so acutely aware of everything going on around him right now and how, still, the only thing he wants to see is Mars’ face.

Every now and then he catches sight of Jeff, Glenne, and other members of his team watching him fondly from the sidelines. They’re all smiling, dancing along with his performance, and the smiles they give him fill him with relief-- they haven’t caught on to how weirdly out of body he’s feeling right now.

The entire affair is over in the blink of an eye, and it isn’t long before Harry finds himself alone in the silence of a makeshift dressing room.

Moments like this are often odd to Harry. They don’t come often, but still-- he is no stranger to them. Especially this past month and a half. They’re the moments where he’s left with insane adrenaline coursing through his body, a flood of serotonin directly to his brain that only comes from performing. Never in his life has he gotten this same feeling from anything else. There is no high like the high after a performance, and Harry knows that firsthand.

However, when paired with heartache and a healthy dose of loneliness (garnished with a pinch of self-pity) it becomes a heady tonic-- one that leaves an odd taste in his mouth and doesn’t sit right in his belly.

He should call someone. Mars? His Mom? His therapist? He isn’t quite sure, but he knows that he hates this feeling.

He lets out a breath, catching sight of himself in the vanity mirror as he turns to begin undressing. He looks happy, healthy enough-- nothing about him physically would indicate anything about his current mental state, which is wonderful. But he feels the symptoms every day. And try as he does to outrun the sadness, it seems to be catching up with him more and more.

Hesitantly, he takes a step towards the mirror, staring at himself as if expecting his reflection to do something unexpected. He starts to slowly raise his hand, guiding it towards the glass as if nervous to touch it, and just as he’s about to make contact, a loud knock on his door startles him out of his thoughts.

He straightens up immediately, clearing his throat and calling out a loud “C’mon in!”

The door swings open and in comes Jeff, Glenne, and a few other people from his team close behind. “That was insane, man!”

Harry beams. “Yeah?”

Glenne, smiling to herself, closes the door behind her while Jeff comes up and squeezes Harry’s shoulders. “You were amazing. How do you feel?”

With everyone hyping him up like this, there is a new buzzing energy within the room that was not present in his solitude. He’ll admit that he’s feeling good. He knows he crushed his performance, and he knows he should feel proud. “Honestly? I feel fuckin great.”

“Yes sir!” Glenne says. “As you should!”

He’s swarmed by the voices of the friends that he loves, some asking questions- “Did you see that guy in the green shirt?” “That girl was so happy!” “What happened with the water on the stage?”-- and some praising him -- “When you hit that fuckin note, man?” “The pants were a good choice.” and the playful “And your hair stayed intact!”

And it’s an incredibly welcome distraction.

It’s all a blur from there on out. He gets changed, he answers questions, he jokes with his friends. He sneaks out the back entrance and is spotted only by a handful of fans as he dips into his awaiting black car. And for a while, he doesn’t think about Mars or the conversation he had with his friends earlier before the show. For a while, he feels normal.

Until he doesn’t.

It happens much later in the day, when he’s alone in the flat he owns in New York. God, he hates that he’s alone right now, because it makes the thoughts in his head much louder and harder to ignore.

He knows he shouldn’t do what he’s about to do… but with no one there to stop him, he feels he doesn’t have a choice.

He opens his instagram and goes immediately to his search bar.

He doesn’t even have to type in her name, it’s already there from the last time he did this. He frequents her page, keeping up with her life from a distance-- even though she hardly posts.

And for a while, he’s been really good about not checking up on her as frequently. He usually finds ways to distract himself, pull himself out of his thoughts from her. Besides, he hardly ever sees anything new on her page anyway.

But tonight, he’s feeling rather sorry for himself. And that little pinkish-red circle around her profile picture indicating that she’s uploaded a new story is just calling his name. So fuck it, he thinks.

His thumb hovers briefly over her profile picture as he tries to talk himself out of viewing it. He knows it’s most likely going to be a meme or a picture of some aesthetically pleasing plant she found during a layover. He knows he’s going to hate himself for looking at it, and that she’ll be able to see that he viewed it-- which is quite an embarrassing thought for him. The thought of her seeing his name every single time she posts a story; it’s a wonder she hasn’t blocked him yet. (Although he’s grateful she hasn’t.)

He blows out all of his air and clicks on her story, his stomach sinking the minute he views it. It’s a picture of her and some pilot standing in the front galley of a plane, and there’s a little gif sticker that reads ‘Reunited!’ with animated confetti around it. He’s a good looking fellow, and by the tag of his username directly below his face, Harry knows exactly who it is. Mars had complained about this guy to him many times; Franco was his name and he was an absolute dick. Harry hated him, and from the sound of things Mars wasn’t too fond of him either. Still, Harry knows there is a history there and, shit, he can’t even really blame Mars for going back to him. Especially not after what he put Mars through with Nicole.

Bloody Nicole.

The next picture makes his stomach drop even further; so much in fact that he almost tosses his phone immediately upon seeing it. It’s a very aesthetically pleasing picture indeed, but it’s got fucking Franco in it.

It’s a picture focused on Mars’ dinner plate, which looks incredible and expensive, and there’s a filter on the photo that causes it to have some sort of dreamy, sparkly effect. There’s a candle in the center of the table, and in the background, there’s the bastard himself. He’s smiling up at Mars-- in fact, it looks like he’s laughing hard at something she’s just said-- and although it’s only about half of his face he seems genuinely happy. Happy to be with Mars.

Happy to be with Harry’s Mars.

After staring at it long enough that he feels sick to his stomach, Harry tosses his phone onto the bed beside him and groans loudly. He tilts his head back, not caring when it hits the wall a little too hard, and covers his eyes with the heel of his hand.

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck.

Last Harry had heard, Franco was an asshole who treated Mars like shit. But for all Harry knows now, he’s a prince. Maybe he realized how badly he’d fucked up losing Mars the first time. Harry feels nauseous as he thinks about all the things Mars has probably told Franco about him. Franco has probably comforted her through everything, reassured her that he would never treat her that way.

Harry lets out an audible groan. He knew he should have never gone to her profile.

He sits up a bit, leaning forward and continuing to rub his face, as if doing so will ease any of the anxiety he feels. He can’t keep living like this, and he knows it. He knows it isn’t good for him and, shit, even his friends are noticing a difference in him. Every single day gets harder and harder not to be in communication with her-- and although he sort of knew he had lost her, seeing her on what appears to be a date with someone else makes him feel even more hopeless than before.

He shouldn’t message her. He knows he shouldn’t. In fact, he should finally delete her number once and for all. She’s probably so happy now, with a man who has a similar schedule and lifestyle to her own. Someone who isn’t going to end up putting her in every gossip magazine across the globe.

Someone who treats her the way she deserves.

With a curse under his breath, Harry rises to his feet. He shakes his head, deciding he’s going to go have a long, hot shower to get this shit off of his mind. He may even have a long, manly cry while he’s in there too because, well, he deserves it.

He tosses his phone onto his bed, mutters “fucking Franco” with a shake of his head, and makes his way out of the bedroom.

-----

MARS

“Yeah man it’s just, like, such a rewarding job, you know? LIke I’m really just, so important up there. And like, the amount of people who tell me like, ‘ohh, you’re too handsome to be doing this’ or like ‘oh why didn’t you get into modeling or something,’ it's like… why can’t we break that stigma, you know? Like, I love being that change.”

Mars is only half listening as Franco goes on, for the third time in the past hour, about how important he is at work.

She laughs quietly, nodding and trailing her fingers unenthusiastically along the rim of her barely touched wine glass. If there’s one thing she’s learned about pilots in her life, it’s that they sure do love talking about themselves.

Her phone vibrates in her lap, pulling her from her thoughts. She contributes half-heartedly to the conversation, offering Franco a quick, “Mm, yeah, I love that.” She figures it will buy her some time, make him think she’s listening while she steals a quick glance down at her phone.

Discreetly, she sits back in her chair, flipping her phone over in her hand under the table and glancing at the screen. It’s a text from Glenne, which doesn’t surprise Mars at all. They do, in fact, text every now and then and give each other frequent updates on one another’s lives. It isn’t as often as they used to text-- which is something that Mars regrets to be honest. But any time she sees Glenne’s name on her phone, it makes her smile.

This, of course, poses a challenge for Mars, considering most times she speaks with Glenne she has to refrain from asking her how Harry is doing. Glenne never brings him up either, something Mars knows she should be grateful for but, dammit does she miss that boy. In a sense, it almost feels like sometimes Glenne is purposely avoiding the topic of Harry-- which also hurts Mars’ feelings a little bit. Because, Harry aside, she does miss the friendship that was slowly blossoming with Glenne.

She discreetly unlocks her phone and reads the text message. It’s a meme about flight attendants, followed by a text:

“Made me think of you, lol. Miss you SO bad. When are you back in LA?”

Mars’ hopes go up the slightest bit, although she knows there is most likely no reason for it. She and Glenne have done this back and forth quite a few times. One mentions that they need to get together the next time they’re both in LA, the other agrees profusely, and neither makes any effort further than that.

She takes a deep breath in, glancing up from her phone to see that Franco is still -- still -- talking about himself (something about these three girls who were fighting over him during flight school, because of course) and gives him a polite nod, as if to tell him she understands-- even if she really doesn’t. She turns back to her phone subtly, typing out three texts that read:

“GLENNE!!!”

“I miss you so much it’s unreal!”

“How have you been, my love?”

Mars is caught off guard by the yawn that escapes her own mouth, and she realizes that if she doesn’t start actually paying attention she may just fall asleep right here and now. She looks back up at Franco and nods again, trying to calculate in her brain where exactly he is in his story.

“I mean, I’m sure it’s the same for you,” he says, taking a sip of his water. “I’m sure you’re like, getting dick constantly.”

For a moment, Mars is genuinely unsure of how to answer him.

She clears her throat. “I mean,” she says. And that’s all she has time to say, because he’s launching right back into his own story.

Mars’ phone vibrates in her lap, and she reads Glenne’s text to herself.

“Been well! Very busy obviously, but I’m loving it.”

Very busy, Mars assumes, with things pertaining to Harry’s album.

Before she even has time to think more on that, another text from Glenne comes.

“And you? Where in the world are you right now? Saw your insta story… who’s that? 👀😍”

Mars has to physically stop herself from letting out an audible sigh. She’d forgotten that she’d even posted a picture at the beginning of this dinner; an artistically shot photo of her appetizer with a less than subtle glimpse of Franco smiling at her in the back. This, of course, had been intentional, with only one person in mind that she’d wanted to see it.

It was minutes after that photo that the evening went downhill and Franco slipped right into his insufferable ways.

Mars, however, in tuning him out and losing herself in her own thoughts, had forgotten entirely about the photo meant to make Harry (and Harry alone) jealous. And now here she is. Paying for her sins.

She discreetly types back under the table, thankful for her ability to text without looking.

“Just a friend. He’s a pilot I’ve known for a bit. We’re working a trip together.”

She makes a mental note to delete that picture as soon as she gets back to her hotel room.

As she and Franco continue to talk, she really begins to wonder what she ever saw in this man. He’s impolite, and entitled-- the kind of person that no one had ever said the word “no” to.

Franco sends his soup back to the waiter because it’s too hot. Mars tells a brief (brief) story about London, and Franco follows it up with an even better story about a time he went somewhere even nicer and did even cooler things. And Mars brushes it off, checking her phone and doing mental math in her head. If she goes to bed within the hour, she’ll get seven hours of sleep. Not ideal for her, but still fine… if Franco would just eat his damn soup.

And then, for some god awful reason, something as simple as Franco’s pronunciation of the word “obviously” strikes Mars’ heart like a lightning bolt.

It isn’t that he says it wrong by any means. He doesn’t, it’s just that the way he says it reminds her of Harry-- of course-- because Harry would have pronounced it differently.

Harry had a funny way of saying the word. He would have said it more pointedly, and Mars would have teased him for the way his accent would have gotten in the way.

God, Mars misses that accent.

She would have teased him for his pronunciation, and he probably would have rolled his eyes and laughed along with her, teasing her in return for something she does and then kissing her playfully to shut her up. And it would’ve been enough to make her happy for the rest of her life.

In addition to his accent, there are several other things she misses about him. Like the way he showed genuine interest in the stories she would tell him, and he never allowed her to apologize for rambling. The way he made everyone in a room feel important and listened to, but always stole little glances at Mars and smirked when she noticed. The way he lit up around his friends-- and the way his friends immediately accepted her and loved her. Which reminds her…

She glances back down to her phone to see another, unread text from Glenne. She reads it, less than discreetly this time because, honestly, it won't make a difference to Franco whether she’s fully listening or not.

“Are we suuuuure he’s just a friend? 😉”

Mars looks up at Franco at the exact moment he uses a spoon for a mirror while he picks something from his teeth. He glances at their waitress as she passes the table, then back at Mars. “You think the waitress is hot?”

Mars shrugs. “Uh. I don’t know. Yeah?”

“I think she’s weird as shit.” Franco laughs. “But I’d bang her.”

Mars nods unenthusiastically in response, turning immediately back to her phone to reply to Glenne.

“Definitely just a friend.”

Honestly, it’s her own fault she’s in this situation now. She blames past Mars, who’d acted in an emotional rage, for the fact that she’s having to suffer through this torturous evening. She should have never reached out to him in the first place back in January. She should have, at the very least, given herself some time. Maybe she would have processed more of what Harry was trying to say to her. Maybe she’d be with Harry right now instead.

She’ll never admit it out loud, but maybe that’s where she’s meant to be. And now she fears it’s too late.

Not that she and Franco have done anything in the past few months. All she’d done was text him, but once she’d calmed down a bit from the emotions of Saint Thomas she’d realized that she wasn’t exactly as interested in him as she’d thought she was. Through a lot of chats with her best friend, her therapist, and even her diary, she’d begun working out that it was better to be alone than with Franco-- and slowly her communication with Franco became, once again, more and more sparse.

Of course, she had forgotten that she and Franco had picked up this trip together shortly after the Saint Thomas incident. So now here she is.

The night drags on far longer than Mars reckons it should, and when they find themselves in the backseat of their lyft on the way back to their hotel, Mars is practically itching to get out of the car.

Franco chats idly with the driver about some local basketball team that Mars couldn’t care less about, and she finds herself scrolling mindlessly through her instagram. She’s giving out “likes” very generously, for the simple fact that it keeps her from having to listen to Franco talk any longer. Still, it's not quite as entertaining as she would hope. Another girl she knew back in middle school is pregnant-- again. Her college friend is posting a picture of his muscles at the gym. Her favorite celebrity posted a picture from her international tour. Blah blah blah.

Her attention is snapped back to the present when she feels Franco’s hand on her knee. She looks up from her phone and over to Franco, who still is in deep conversation and won’t even look at her. His hand trails a little bit higher, and his thumb rubs circles that Mars guesses are supposed to be soothing. (They aren’t.) His fingers curl a little bit and he keeps them right in the spot on her leg that they’re at, gently scratching them back and forth. And oh, Mars knows exactly what he’s doing.

She swallows around a throat that now feels uncomfortably dry. She shifts awkwardly in her seat, hoping he gets the hint.

He doesn’t.

He glances at her briefly, a smile on his lips, and he moves his hand a bit higher, pushing the hem of Mars’ dress up along with it. She opens her mouth to say something, and he feigns smug shock. Pretending like he knows he shouldn’t be doing what he’s doing. The driver continues to drive silently, and Mars watches Franco intently.

“Franco,” she whispers, but she’s cut off when he speaks to the driver.

“Hey,” he says, “would you mind turning this song up a little bit more?”

The driver wordlessly complies with Franco’s request, and Franco grins smugly back at Mars before leaning impossibly closer. He attaches his lips to Mars’ neck, just below her earlobe, and presses the wettest kiss Mars thinks she’s ever experienced against her skin. She shivers, and not in a good way-- although the way Franco’s hand is traveling further up her thigh tells her he’s completely clueless.

“Stop,” she says quietly.

If he hears her, he pretends like he doesn’t. He uses his other hand to pull her closer, the fingers under her skirt now trailing lightly along her panties. “Franco,” she says again.

“What?” he asks, an arrogance lacing his voice. “You can’t tell me you haven’t been waiting for this all night.” He leans in to kiss her mouth, but she pulls away awkwardly.

“Not… no, I haven’t. What?”

“Is it just that you’re shy? In front of the driver?” Franco smiles, lowering his voice. “I bet he doesn’t mind.”

“I bet he does,” Mars says, increasing her volume only slightly. “Franco, we’re not doing this--”

“Your room or mine then, baby?”

“Neither.”

For the first time, Franco finally seems to hear her. He pulls away with a frown. “What?”

“Franco, I don’t… this isn’t--”

“Then why did you want to get dinner tonight?”

“Cause I wanted to catch up! I told you that before we even left. What the fuck?”

“I thought you were just saying that, Mars. What, you’re too good for me now? Mars got a taste of some famous guy’s dick and now she’s too good for me?”

Mars’ stomach turns. “What--”

“You used to practically beg me to hang out with you. Remember that? There was a time you would’ve given anything for me to touch you like that. And now you’re embarrassing me like this?”

Mars feels tears welling in her eyes, but not tears of sadness-- tears of pure, absolute rage “I don’t owe you a goddamn thing,” she spits back.

“Get your story straight then.” Franco scoffs.

“What?”

“You heard me. You call me whenever you’re lonely or horny or whatever but you think you’re so much better than me. Excuse me for thinking this time was any different than the last few times you begged for my attention.”

“You’re a fucking asshole. I--”

“No fucking wonder Harry left your ass.”

Mars’ breath halts in her throat, and her mouth gapes open like a fish. Franco laughs. “Yeah. I read the articles. Harry fucking cheated on you, Mars. Probably because you act like this.”

“You--”

“This is just what you do, isn’t it? Get a guy all excited like a fucking tease and then you turn him down. You’re a prude. And I--”

Mars doesn’t even realize what she’s doing until she feels the heat of Franco’s cheek beneath the palm of her hand; the smack echoing through the cab despite the loud music. Franco immediately grabs for his face, eyes widened with shock, and for a moment they both just stare at one another-- too afraid to move.

“Hey!” The cab driver speaks up, immediately muting the radio. “I won’t have any violence in my car.”

“Let me out,” Mars says without a moment’s hesitation.

“You--” Franco starts, and Mars turns towards the driver.

“Let me out, please,” she says. “I can walk.”

The cab driver pulls over to the side of the road, parking as quickly as possible.

“You’re an idiot,” Franco says, “The hotel isn’t anywhere close by, and--”

The driver turns the light on and whirls around in his seat, pointing to Franco. “Get out of my car.”

Franco scoffs. “What?!”

“Get out of my car. Now.”

“Look, man, I’m not the one who--”

“I’ll call the cops.”

Franco puts his hands up immediately in submission, but he doesn’t make any effort to exit the vehicle. “That won’t be necessary, man, I’m just saying that--”

“Get out of my car then.”

Franco, who’s cheek is now bright red where Mars had slapped him, glances in disbelief from Mars to the driver. Mars, who can hardly catch her breath, chews anxiously at her trembling lip, afraid to move a muscle.

Finally, Franco scoffs. Shaking his head, he reaches for the car door. “Un-fucking-believable.” He says under his breath. “This is unbelievable.”

“Take everything,” the driver says. “I’m not coming back for you.”

“Fuck you, man.” Franco steps out of the car, reaching back in to grab his phone. “And fuck you, too.” He flips Mars the finger. “Waste of my fucking time.”

He slams the door so hard that the car shakes, and Mars and the driver sit in silence for a few moments. Trying desperately to get her breathing under control, she swallows a nauseating lump in her throat. The driver puts the car into drive, but before moving, he turns to Mars. “Are you okay?”

Mars glances out the window, where she can see Franco furiously scrolling through his phone. “I’m okay,” she says, although by the sound of her voice she seems far from okay.

The driver says nothing, he only nods, turns the car light off, and begins to drive.

Mars stares numbly out the window, trying desperately to calm the panic attack coursing through her entire body. She takes a few shaky breaths, feeling her tears trickling rapidly down her cheeks, and she wipes at her running nose. She’s thankful for the driver, and the fact that he keeps the radio playing softly. His silence and stoic expression almost make her feel silly, and she laughs bitterly. What just happened?

“I’m sorry,” she says, voice hardly above a whisper. “I’m so sorry. I’ve never--”

The driver holds up his hand. “Please,” he says. “Nothing to apologize for.”

There are a few moments of silence following his statement, but he clears his throat and speaks again. “It isn’t my place, and I won’t talk about it anymore after this. But you did the right thing.”

Mars can’t stop the little sob that escapes past her lips. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

She laughs bitterly. “I feel so stupid.”

“You’re not stupid. And you shouldn’t feel that way. He should feel stupid. You did the right thing.”

There’s a heaviness on Mars’ heart that feels suffocating, but she knows he’s right. She sniffles, wiping at her stuffy nose and focusing her eyes at the passing street lights out the window. “Thank you,” she says quietly.

The driver says nothing, he only offers Mars a sympathetic nod, then reaches down to turn the volume up slightly.

Mars lets out a sigh, settling back into her seat and laying her head against the car window. All she can focus on is getting her breathing back to normal. Her heart pounds in her ears, and all she wants more than anything is to be home. Not here, not on this trip, not even in her crashpad. Home, with her parents, and her siblings, and her eighteen year old family cat. She wants to forget the past couple of months entirely. Start fresh.

She begins to consider the amount of PTO she’s accumulated. Surely she has enough to call out sick for her next trip. Maybe she can swap with someone, call out of another trip, and go home for a bit. Maybe she’ll even leave her phone behind. Maybe--

The thoughts stop dead in their tracks when her brain registers a familiar voice. She sits up a bit, as if it’s going to help her get any sort of clarity, and she holds her breath until her thoughts are confirmed.

That’s Harry playing on the radio.

Mars’ breath hitches in her throat, and her ears begin to ring. It’s a song of his that she really does adore-- for lack of a better word-- and it feels like it simultaneously shatters and heals her already broken heart. She buries her face in her hands, not caring about the mascara that’s going to stain her fingers, and lets out a long, shaky breath.

She’s torn between asking the driver to mute it or turn it up, and she’s not entirely sure he isn’t perfectly aware of the situation at hand. In any case, he does nothing-- and Mars is left to listen, and suffer, in silence.

She lifts her head from her palms, her chest quivering with another shaky breath, and she considers the potential meaning of all of this. Naive as it may be to take this as a possible sign, she also takes comfort in the thought that this could be the universe’s way of gently nudging her in the right direction rather than kicking her when she’s down.

But a sign of what? Surely she shouldn’t be reaching out to Harry. Not now. Not after everything, and especially not after the night she’s had.

Should she?

Mars glances down at the phone in her lap and picks it up to glance at the time-- although she isn’t sure why she’s checking that. She doesn’t even know where in the world Harry is right now one way or another. And the fact of the matter is, she has to be up incredibly early for tomorrow’s flight anyway-- so really she knows she shouldn’t call him.

That isn’t the only reason she shouldn’t call him, of course. She knows it’s a terrible idea in general. They don’t belong together. They’re just going to keep going in circles, and they’re going to end up getting more hurt than they already were.

Still, what impeccable timing for this song to come on.

Mars picks anxiously at the skin around her thumbnail, glancing back out the window again-- suddenly completely overwhelmed with indecision. Somehow, nothing has ever felt more right than the unexpected realization that Harry is-- still-- just a phone call away. Just as he’s always been. And she knows she doesn’t need him, sure, but god… she loves him. She loves him so much that her heart aches. And that is all she knows right now.

It’s been long enough, surely he’s willing to talk this through. Surely he’s ready to accept an apology from her.

Squirming subconsciously in her seat, she lets out a sigh far louder than intended.

“Is something else bothering you?” The driver asks, glancing back at her in his rearview mirror.

Mars makes eye contact with him, smiling as normally as she can manage, and clears her throat. “No,” she says, “I’m okay. Just… shaken up.”

She clicks the home button on her phone, darkening her screen, and sits in her anxiety; in her indecision. After a few moments, she says the only thing she can think of to somewhat ease the situation and bring her comfort.

“Actually,” she says, “Would you mind turning this song up?”

-----

HARRY

Harry wraps a towel loosely around his waist, making his way from the bathroom back into the bedroom to get dressed. The humidity of the steamy bathroom clings to his freshly moisturized skin, and already he can feel his hair frizzing up. He turns off the light and lets out a subconscious exhale at the drastic temperature change between the bathroom and the rest of his flat.

Clearing his throat, he walks into his bedroom and over to the dresser. Normally he’s all for sleeping in the nude but for some reason, his place feels extra cold tonight. He carelessly flings open the top drawer of his dresser to begin rummaging through the various folded clothes. Nonchalantly, he taps on his phone screen to check any notifications he’d received during his rather long shower. A text from Jeff, a missed call from his goddaughter (whoops), and….

He stops dead in his tracks, his entire body going cold at the sight. He immediately drops the clothes in his hand and reaches for the phone, pulling it up closer to his face so he can read clearly.

He has to blink several times to make sure he’s really seeing what he thinks he’s seeing… and he is. Two iMessage notifications from Mars. Right there in plain sight.

Holy shit.

He nearly drops his phone trying to get it unlocked, and his fingers shake as he opens her messages. Right there, back to back.

“Hey, Harry. It’s Mars.” As if he could ever forget. Followed by: “I hope you’ve been doing well.”

His heart pounds in his ears as he tries to plan out his response. Surely she has a bigger reason for messaging him than just checking if he’s well. Maybe she wants to talk about something. Harry’s heart drops when he thinks that maybe she’s going to bring up Franco. Maybe Franco proposed at dinner tonight, and she’s calling to tell Harry about it so that he hears it from her first. He shakes his head, rubbing anxiously on the tip of his nose before beginning to type out his response.

“Hiii Mars. I’ve been well. How are you? x”

As soon as he sends it he shakes his head. There were far too many I’s in that “hi.” Now he just looks desperate and weird. Also, why did he tell her he’s been well? Sure, he’s been alright. But ‘well?’ Certainly not.

Her text bubbles appear, then disappear, then appear again, and Harry realizes he’s holding his breath waiting for her response.

“Well… I’ve been better. Haha. But I’m alright.”

Shit, Harry has no idea how he’s meant to respond to that.

On the one hand, he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t a little bit excited to hear that she isn’t having the best night-- not because he’s hoping she’s miserable, but because he hates Franco and he wants Mars to hate him, too. But on the other hand, it’s upsetting to hear she isn’t happy.

Not to mention, it isn’t the most open-ended text. Where is the conversation meant to go from there?

Harry chews his bottom lip as he carefully types out his response. Several times he types (and deletes) “would you like to talk about it?” He isn’t sure if that’s his place anymore.

Nor is he sure that he wants to talk about whatever is troubling her, especially if it’s Franco.

Finally, he settles for a somewhat neutral, yet friendly and caring:

I’m sorry to hear that. What’s been going on?

His heart is beating so hard that his ears are ringing, and he runs a hand through his hair as he waits for her to respond. This is wrong. He shouldn’t have even asked. It comes off as nosey, and really it’s none of his business any longer what troubles her.

Still, surely she wouldn’t have brought it up if she didn’t want to talk to him, right? What’s the worst that could happen? Maybe she just needs a bit of friendly advice.

“Just a lot. Work has been crazy. And people suck. Lol”

By ‘people,’ Harry hopes she means Franco.

His thumbs begin typing a new message, but another text from her arrives before he has a chance to write too much.

“Can I call you?” Followed by a hasty: “You can say no. Sorry. I know it’s kinda weird and you probably don’t even want to hear from me lol” and then another “sorry” tacked on for good measure.

Harry’s head is absolutely spinning at her request; a request he’d hoped for for so long but never thought would come. He rises to his feet for no good reason and paces around the room, staring at the messages on his phone. Why does she want to call him? What does she want to tell him? What if it ends badly? What if she’s still angry?

“You can literally say no” pops up on his phone then, reminding him that he very much needs to respond to her sooner or later.

He sits down swiftly on the corner of his bed and types out a quick “Yeah, you can call me.” Followed by: “Everything okay?”

“No yeah everything is fine I just wanted to talk. But if it's not a good time you can say no.”

Harry has the right mind to call her himself just to get her to stop overthinking, but on the other hand he doesn’t want to scare her off. So, as calmly as he can manage to keep himself, he types back, “It’s a fine time. Call me.”

As soon as he sends it, his thumbs move at the speed of light to tack on a quick “Please. X”

Before Harry has time to overthink the “please” and the slight desperation that he’s concerned it may convey, his heart sinks into the pit of his belly when he hears it-- the specific ringtone set on his phone for Mars’ calls. The ringtone he hadn’t heard in ages and had honestly, up until now, forgotten about.

He stares at the vibrating phone in his hand for a few seconds, completely overwhelmed by his nerves and his excitement, before clearing his throat and swiping his thumb along the screen. The ringing stops. The call connects.

He’s talking to Mars again.

Slowly, cautiously (although he isn’t sure why), he raises the phone to his ear.

“Hello?”

“Hey.” Her voice sounds quiet and far away, almost an imitation of the girl he used to know. She sounds like she’s trying to be happy, and failing, and there’s a distinct wobble to her voice that only someone who knows her well would recognize.

It shatters Harry’s heart.

“Heyyy,” he says, as soothing yet as conversationally as possible. “How are you?”

“Uhh,” Mars says through a soft, breathy laugh, “I’m… good. Um. Busy with work. I-- I just--”

“Yeah?” Harry doesn’t mean to talk over her, but fuck, he’s so nervous. “How’s work?”

“Oh, it’s good, I--’

“Sorry I didn’t mean to--”

“What?”

“No you go.”

“Did I cut you off?”

‘No I was--”

“Sorry, I didn’t know if you were--”

“No, I cut you off.” Fuck’s sake. Harry chews anxiously at the corner of his thumbnail while he speaks. “Sorry. You were saying you were busy with work. And then what?”

“Oh. Um. Nothing else really. I was just gonna say that…. I hope you don’t mind that I called. I just…. It’s been a while.”

Harry swallows. “No, no. I don’t mind. I’m uh… I’m actually kind of glad you did.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.” Harry has to physically stop himself from telling her just how badly he misses her, but he begins to feel anxious when a quick silence falls between them. He clears his throat.

Say something. Say anything. Fuck.

“What are you up to?” Mars, thankfully, speaks first. “I hope you’re not like, somewhere in the world where it’s actually the middle of the night. Like, I didn’t wake you up or anything did I? I’m a little bit jet lagged myself.”

Harry chuckles, although he’d be lying if he said it didn’t hurt him just a little bit that she didn’t know about his performance this morning. But then again, why would she?

“I’m in New York,” he answers, sitting down on his bed and settling himself back against the pillows. “Are you on a layover?”

“M-hm. Today was a long day. Tomorrow isn’t though. Which is nice.”

Harry bites his tongue to keep from mentioning Franco, but he can’t stop himself from asking, “Oh yeah? Good crew then?”

“Um,” she trails off, and Harry can tell she’s trying to choose her words carefully. “I mean… yeah. They’re nice. Most of them. But uh, we get new pilots for tomorrow’s leg. So.”

“Looked like you had a nice dinner.” It's out before Harry can stop himself, and he holds his breath the seconds it escapes his lips.

Mars audibly sighs, and Harry instantly regrets what he’s just said. “I didn’t mean--”

“It was okay,” she says. “It was… I-I know you remember Franco.”

Harry’s mouth goes dry. “Yeah,” he says. “Yeah, I remember Franco.”

“Yeah. He’s… the same.”

Harry wonders if she means that in a good way or a bad way. He doesn’t even have time to ask before she’s speaking again. “I have to tell you something.”

And oh, fuck, Harry has never in his life known an anxiety like this before. He knows that “I have to tell you something” is hardly ever followed by anything good, and coming from Mars right now he can’t imagine it’s going to be anything wonderful. He swallows, clearing his throat and fidgeting anxiously with his fingers. “What is it?”

There’s a long silence that follows, so long in fact that Harry worries she’s hung up. After a short while, he glances at the phone to see that she is still on the line. He’s about to say something, when she finally speaks.

“I fucking miss you,” Mars says quietly. “I don’t expect you to say it back. And I don’t know if I deserve anything other than your silence. I--” she sighs. “We know that… it isn’t a good idea for us to be together. And I don’t want to mess anything up, or stir up anything. I just… I think you deserve to know. I miss you.”

“Don’t say that,” Harry says, although his heart is begging him to say something along the opposite lines. “Please don’t say that.”

“Why?” It sounds like a genuine question; not a tease, not an insinuation or indication she’s looking for anything else. Not even a hint of surprise. Just genuinely asking him: why?

“Because,” he answers, picking at his chipped nail polish and struggling to find the words he’s looking for. He takes a big deep breath in through his nose. “Because I know you’re with Franco now. And I cannot promise to respect that.”

“I’m not with Franco,” Mars says quietly. “He’s a prick. And I’m an idiot.”

“You’re not an idiot.” Harry shakes his head, as if she can see him. “You’re not.”

“I should have never gone out with him,” Mars admits. “It was fucking stupid. He’s not… he’s…. I was just….” she sighs into the phone, clearly at a loss. “I don’t know. I was looking for a way to fill the void, I guess.”

Harry hates himself for the question he asks next. “Did it work?”

“Of course not. He fucking sucks.”

He swallows, unsure of what to say next. What even is there to say? He can’t tell her how badly he misses her. How badly he wants her. How he thinks maybe he might just be in love with her- really and truly. He’s used up all of those chances, and he’s not expecting to be able to get another one.

“Well,” he says slowly, “If anyone understands that feeling, it’s me.”

Mars laughs, although Harry can’t tell if it’s genuine or sarcastic until it dissolves into a little half-sigh, half-hum. He can picture her shaking her head on the other end of the phone.

“Anyway,” Mars says after a beat, and then she says nothing else.

There’s a silence that falls between them, and Harry shifts awkwardly on the bed. “Anyway,” he repeats.

“I do miss you, Harry.”

Harry nods, as if she can see him. “Yeah,” he says. “Yeah, I miss you more than I can tell you, Mars.”

“I just…” She goes silent for a moment again, and Harry had to refrain from speaking. He wants her to get her words out, and he wants to give her the space and the freedom to do so.

But god, is it hard.

Mars tries again. “I just don’t know.”

Harry blinks through the tears that form in his eyes. “I don’t know either.”

After a ridiculously long pause, Mars laughs into the phone again. Somehow, Harry can tell that she’s also crying. “I shouldn’t have called,” she says. “Sorry. I don’t know why I--”

“I’m glad you did.” Harry is quick to cut her off, terrified suddenly that she’s going to hang up and he’s going to lose her. “I’m so glad you did, Mars.”

“You are?”

Harry can’t believe she’s even asking him that. “Of course I am,” he says. “I…”

He trails off, unsure of where to go from here. How can he tell her that he just wanted to hear her voice again, more than anything else in the world, and that he’d been watching old videos on his phone that he’d taken of them long before anything had gone wrong just so he could hear her laugh again? How can he explain to her that she’s the only person he wants, that he’s never missed anyone the way he misses her, and that his heart quite literally feels like it’s breaking his ribs every time he thinks of her?

“I guess I just am glad to know that I’m not alone in how I’ve been feeling lately.”

“No,” Mars says, practically whispering into the phone. “No. You aren’t alone.”

They sit with the weight of their words, the silence on the line almost comforting because it’s theirs, and truthfully it’s something they’ve both yearned for for so long. Harry licks his lips, anxiously fiddling with the rings on his fingers as he tries to come up with something to say so that he doesn’t lose her again.

“So where are you?” is the best he comes up with.

“Uhh...” Mars lets out a breath, trilling her lips as if she actually has forgotten where she is and has to think about it. “Atlanta. Early start tomorrow.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Mm. Headed to Dallas in like… five hours.”

“Dallas,” Harry says, as conversationally as he can manage. “Should be lovely.”

“Yeah. Looking forward to it, I guess.”

“Yeah? Good.”

Silence.

Harry speaks again. “Five hours? You should get some sleep.”

Silence. Again. Harry fucking hates it.

“I’m really sorry.” When she speaks again, it surprises Harry. But he listens. “Like, genuinely. I’m sorry. It’s…” She swallows so hard he can hear it through the phone. “It sucks so bad Harry. And I-- I don’t want--”

Mars trails off with a shaky breath, and Harry mutters an almost inaudible. “It’s okay, take your time.”

“I know you’re glad that I called. And I-- I’m so happy I got to talk to you again, it’s just-- I’m not… we--”

“I know,” Harry says, as comfortingly as he can manage. “I know, Mars. It’s okay.”

‘It’s not.” Mars sniffs, a stuffy sound that lets Harry know she’s definitely crying. Her voice sounds almost on the verge of panic, and he knows she’s getting too far into her own head like she tends to do. “I just-- I wanted it to be different but I... fuck, I shouldn’t have called you. I shouldn’t have--”

“Hey.” Harry wipes at his own tears, trying to hide the sadness in his own voice. “Hey, listen to me. It’s okay, Mars. Yeah? You’re okay.”

She takes a moment to catch her breath, and Harry holds his own breath in order to try and stop himself from crying just as hard. He wants nothing more than to go to her and hold her. To fix all of this. To make it go away.