#1 Number One Bullshit Shirt

[hellish-sunsets]

You're an Asshole - Pt 3 - Triumph

Pt 1 Pt 2

Summary: Adam was nothing if not stubborn and persistent, and eventually he finally manages to win her over for a night. (Or, Adam thinks he finally convinced her to fuck because he's charming or something. Man has no idea he's wrapped around her finger.)

Warnings: Cursing, Smut

Word Count: 2,845

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Alright, so Adam couldn’t get her out on the first attempt. That was fine. He could be patient, when he needed to be. He would just get her at the next concert.

But she still didn’t leave with him.

So he tried again, and again, and again. He listened to more shitty music trying to get to that bitch. He was growing… far too accustomed to those bullshit sounds some people called music. But whatever, it would be worth it when he finally won her over and proved he wasn't an asshole. They would fuck and it would be great and he could finally move on from all this.

So he remained stubborn and kept it up. After the fifth ‘accidental’ bump in at a concert, she actually gave him her number with that bright smile of his,

“I like talking to you. We should keep texting.��

Something swelled in his chest, something he wasn't really willing to name. Victory, perhaps. Progress. Her friends hadn’t looked too happy about that, but she clearly wasn’t paying much attention to their warnings. Good. As pointlessly difficult as all this was turning out to be, at least her friend's displeasure wasn’t going to make it more difficult. Stupid bastards.

She texted him infrequently, telling him about various concerts she was going to, just in case he wanted to come too. He read the latest text over, one that seemed to hold more excitement than usual. The next one was a rock concert, and she was sure he’d have a better time there than the last one. He caught himself smiling at his phone and scowled. It was just because he was getting close to winning her over, he told himself. He definitely wasn’t developing any shitty feelings for some shitty woman. She could give him that shining smile as much as she wanted, could babble on with her infectious excitement for hours, could look up at him with those warm eyes, but it wouldn’t change a thing.

And maybe if he kept telling himself that he could pretend it was true. 

Who was he kidding, of course it was true. He had given up on love after his second wife left him. But, she was still hot. He couldn’t wait to bang her. 

And he was convinced tonight would be the night! He was in his element at a rock concert. He made sure he wore his best leather jacket, the one with only one hole nobody could even notice, and a nice shirt. Well, nicer. It didn't have any holes or stains. He couldn’t stand the same for his jeans, but oh well, at the very least he can say he tried. That's more than he did for everyone else. Just to prove a point, he told himself. 

There was a knock at the door and he headed that way, pausing at the hallway mirror. He ran his hands through his brown locks, making sure it was the right amount of messy. He needed to be irresistible. He smirked at himself, satisfied. 

Show time.

—-----------------------

The air thrummed with the sound of banging drums and heavy guitar. The crowd pressed in on them, the smell of sweat and the heat of the bodies hitting them from all sides. Adam felt right at home. 

He easily made his way through the crowd, searching for his little angel. She had told him to meet towards the front, by a specific pillar. Sure enough, he found her there with her usual friends. She spotted him too, giving a bright smile and waving him and Lute over. They couldn’t talk over the music, but that hardly mattered. He could use his dashing good looks and charming personality. Body language mattered a fuck ton in these matters. 

So he gave her his own dashing smile and sauntered over to bump his shoulder against hers. He felt more than heard her giggle. Nailed it! Her friends shot him weird looks, clearly unimpressed, but Lute shot them a hard look back, leaving them at a standstill. That didn’t matter, really. He was more than happy to let Lute deal with them so he could have fun and rock out with the hot bitch next to him. Ain’t nothing like it! And she was smiling and dancing and bouncing with the music, clearly having a good time. 

And for a while during that concert, he forgot about everything. He forgot about why he was there, forgot about his attempts at manipulation, forgot about why he was trying to in the first place. The thoughts in his mind, the constant nagging that he wasn’t good enough, that he was a failure, that he was an asshole and no one would love him… nothing he would admit to, to himself or anyone else, but was still there tearing him apart inside. Those thoughts didn’t exist. All that existed was the pounding music and the angel next to him and that beautiful smile and sparkling eyes that drew him in. 

He fucking loved rock concerts! This was the shit! 

And when the music finally faded, he could feel his blood boiling. He knew exactly what he wanted and he wasn’t going to play any games about it. This was his chance. The time had come and there was no hesitating. 

He leaned over, resting a hand on her waist and whispering in her ear, and she didn’t pull away but leaned into his side, her body fitting perfectly against his. 

“Wanta take this to my place?” He said in a low, rumbling voice, and she hummed, thinking it over. It felt like his heart was going to beat out of his chest. He may later regret how desperate he felt, but at that moment all he wanted was her, and it was a weird feeling. Cause yeah, he’s wanted to fuck plenty of bitches before, but this wasn’t quite the same, not that he was in the mindset to analyze his feelings or some bullshit like that. 

It was only a little hum before she was turning her head to whisper back in his own ear, her breath warm against his skin and sending a shiver down his spine. 

“Lead the way.”

He couldn’t have stopped smiling if he was threatened at gunpoint. His wings ruffled and puffed up and she giggled, taking his hand in hers. He led her away, giving her hand a squeeze as he went. He made sure to give Lute a grin and she nodded her understanding. He didn’t even bother looking at her friends. He didn’t give two shits about them. He was gonna get laid!

He was so fucking thankful he cleaned up his place earlier. Not that they saw it. 

The moment they were through that door she was on him, hands running up his chest before grabbing his jacket and pulling him towards her. Their lips crashed together, and shit, she had to have some flavored chapstick on or something cause fuck, she tasted like cherries. A growl was ripped out of his throat and he pushed forward, backing her into the hallway wall. She let out a small moan, opening her mouth for him, and fuck if that wasn’t hot. 

He had never been a really patient man, so he grabbed her wrist and dragged her to his room, fumbling for the light switch. And yeah, some guys liked fucking with the lights off but why on earth would he do that when he had such a fine piece of ass in front of him? No, he needed to see her, needed to see the faces she would make and the look in her eyes because he was determined to make them roll. Fuck, she would look so hot impaled on his cock.

She smiled at him, so tender and warm his thoughts stuttered to a halt. She leaned up to cradling his face in her hands, thumbs rubbing over the red in his cheeks. His breath caught in his throat as she leaned in, her lips brushing against his so gently. His tongue darted out to pick over her lips and she parted them for him. He groaned as she let him deepen the kiss once more. His hands went to her hips, pulling her body tight against his. He swallowed the little gasp she let out into the kiss. 

He didn't even know they had been backing up until she fell onto the bed, her smile turning mischievous as she dragged him along with her. He yelped in surprise, but he didn’t mind, not when she was laughing, the sound making his heart swell. And his cock. He didn’t know how to deal with the heart thing, but he had plenty of practice dealing with his dick. 

He reached for her shirt to help her undress, but she grabbed his wrists to stop him, her lips pressing against his pulse.

“You first.” She said, and it wasn’t fully a command but it felt like one. He rolled his eyes and huffed, making her giggle again.

“Fine, whatever.” But he couldn’t really bring himself to care too much when her hands were on his chest, brushing his coat down his arms. He pulled it off the rest of the way, tossing it onto the ground somewhere. He'd pick it up later. (He definitely wouldn't.) Her hands traced the edge of his shirt before diving underneath, her fingers so hot against his skin. His shirt quickly joined his coat on the floor.

“Now?” He asked with a huff, pulling roughly on her shirt. She thought for a moment and shrugged, sitting up to pull her shirt over head, quickly followed by her bra. 

Now they were talking! The sight of her laid out before him did wonders, wings spread out over his bed and tits out. God, she had the best tits, fit into his hands perfectly. So soft and warm. His lips were back on hers in an instant, all tongue and teeth as he groped her chest. She gasped and panted into his lips, hands frantically working at his jeans. His hips bucked against her hands, his cock already so hard and eager to feel her cunt around him. It sent a shiver down his spine when his cock sprang free, his pants and boxers joining her clothes on the floor with a kick.

Her hands roamed, from his stomach to his chest to his neck, pulling him closer to press her lips against her neck, making his cock twitch with the press of her hot lips against his skin. He moaned, pressing his face into the side of her neck while she lavished attention on his sensitive skin. His own hands wandered as well, roaming over her soft curves before landing on her thighs, parting them so he could sit more comfortably between, the new position perfect for grinding his throbbing cock against her pussy.

But he was an impatient man, and this was already taking much longer than he wanted. He reached down to grasp his cock, lining himself up with her wet cunt and pushing in. Her gasp and groan was straight up addictive, but not as addictive as her cunt fluttering around his cock. He pulled back and pushed in further, then further again, and he groaned into her neck before pulling away. He wanted to see the look on her face as he settled deep inside her. 

And shit, it wasn’t fair how hot she was. 

“Fuck, you’re so wet for me.” He growled, finally thrusting into her properly.

“Shit, Adam, you fit me so perfectly.” She moaned praise back, sending a delicious shiver down his spine and making him twitch inside her hot walls. The room was filled with the sound of her squelching pussy and his balls hitting her ass as he filled her and fucked her properly. Her moans and whimpers were like song, her nails digging into his shoulders, staring into his eyes and making his hips stutter. 

“So good,” he moaned, hands moving from her thighs, one settling on her waist, digging into her skin to pull her harder into each thrust, the other running up her body to her breast, messaging and playing with her nipple. “So fucking hot. Such a good slut for me, shit!”

And he did have a tendency of talking dirty when he fucked someone, but his voice caught in his throat when she reached up to cradle his face. His hips sped up at the look on her face, a mix of pleasure and so much tenderness it almost hurt, and he whined. Actually fucking whined.

“Adam,” she breathed against his lips, wrapping her legs around his hips, egging him on. “Adam, you’re so good to me. Fill me so good.” She pressed her lips against his, kissing him tender before letting him deepen it, desperate for more of her. 

He had never come so fast and hard in his life, or at least in a very long time. He buried his face in her neck again, hips snapping against her hard and fast, making her groan. He gave a final hard thrust, cock settled deep inside her as he came with a shutter and load groan. Her pussy clenched around him as he came and it felt like she was milking him of every drop. She sighed at the feeling of his come inside her, body relaxing underneath him.

But fuck, he wasn’t done. Couldn’t be. She hadn’t come yet, and if there was anyone in heaven or earth deserving of coming on his dick it was her. 

Being the first man had its benefits. He was made for fucking, to reproduce. Which meant he almost never came only once. 

She yelped as he suddenly grabbed her hips, tucking her wings in as he forcefully turned her around. He positioned her with a chuckle, chest pressing against her back, arm wrapping around her shoulders while the other positioned his dick against her cunt once more. 

“We’re not done yet.” He whispered into her ear, voice low and husky. “Not until you come too.”

He could feel his cum leaking out of her and used the head of his cock to coral it back to her entrance. He pushed it in, filling her with his cock again. Between her wetness and his come, he slid in much easier this time. He didn’t move right away, settling for grinding into her pussy as he settled himself on top of her, arm tightening around her shoulders while the other grabbed her hip, squeezing hard. She had to spread her wings out again to give him room, his own fluttering at the feeling of her body against his. She fit so perfectly under him like this. He guided her hips a little higher before thrusting into her. 

This time he didn’t bother starting slow. His movements were fast and hard, guided by the deep groans of pleasure she let out. He chuckled in satisfaction, leaning down to pepper kisses on the nape of her neck and shoulders. And while it felt good, so fucking good, her pussy was clamping around him so hard in this position, he was a man on a mission. He wouldn’t rest until she came. And based on the sounds she was making, wild and guttural, it wouldn’t be too long.

“Feel that? Feel me fucking into you? Feels so good doesn’t it?”

“Fuck!” Was all she could say, the word coming out strangled and needy, and holy shit if he thought he was addicted before it was nothing compared to this. 

“I’m going to come inside you again, shit, gonna fill you with so much of my cum. And you’re going to take it, aren’t you? Gonna take every drop I give you. Gonna come around my cock and force every drop out.” He groaned as he felt her cunt tighten around him, her body trembling underneath him as she buried her head in the pillows. Shit, it was so hot, seeing her come undone like this. 

Somehow, he managed to fuck her faster, and the sounds she made was straight up animalistic. There was no mistaking it when she came. He cursed as she clamped around him harder than ever before, pussy pulsing with the pleasure, her voice singing out her groans of release. And shit, there was no resisting that. He came again, vision going blurry as he cocked pulsed with her. 

Their bodies went limp together, both panting messes. He settled his wings around them, too lazy to get a blanket when he could stay right here, buried inside her hot pussy as they fell asleep together. It wasn’t like she was complaining, letting out a content sigh. 

“Thank you.” she murmured before she was out like a light. 

He felt triumphant and satisfied, lazily kissing the nape of her neck and behind her ears before he followed suit. 

He finally got her, and it was the best fuck he had in a long time.

[ladykailitha]

Royal Pain Part 2

This is the truly large part that I couldn’t find a safe place to stop without making it too short.

Eddie talks to his band about Steve and we meet Miranda, Jeff’s girlfriend. In fact Jeff and Miranda’s relationship is based on a couple friends of mine. They really do be like that.

Part 1

***

Three hours later and Steve was done, pulling off the latex gloves. He sat back with a satisfied grin. “Go on, go take a look.” He jutted his chin toward the three way mirror in the room.

Eddie hopped to his feet, grateful to be able to move again. Sitting still was the hardest part of the tattoo process. But Steve had kept his mind and body occupied by catching up with him. They chatted the full three hours without ceasing or awkward pauses.

He stood in front of the mirror in shock, letting out a small gasp. “Holy shit, Stevie. It’s beautiful.” And it was, too. It looked like his picture brought to life but with the chain swirling around like it had fallen on to Eddie’s chest to rest there. And it seemed to glow with an unearthly light.

“I’m glad,” Steve said with fond smile. He picked up the camera and took a picture of the tattoo.

Then he hopped up off the stool and went to a small side table where there was a stack of business cards. He picked one up and grabbed a pen, writing on the back.

He walked over to Eddie and handed it to him. “Call the front number if you want me to do the bat wings, call the one on the back if you just want to hang out.”

Eddie looked down at the card with a grin. “You’ve got it, big boy!”

“Do you want me to cover it with a gauze so you can put your shirt back on?” Steve asked, nervously.

Eddie frowned in confusion, but Steve nodded at his chest. He looked down at his tattoo. “Oh! Right! Yes, please!”

Steve bandaged it up and handed Eddie back his shirt. Which was good because Steve kept looking at him and while it didn’t make him feel uncomfortable or anything, it just seemed to see him and that was something he had never felt before.

They shook hands and Eddie wandered back to the front to pay. He tapped the card against his palm thoughtfully.

He held up the card and stuck out his tongue and Robin stuck out hers in return.

After she rang him up she handed him a small black gift bag with their logo on it. “For all our first time clients. It comes with instructions on how to take care of the tattoo for first few weeks. Not that you’d need that, but it’s there anyway. It also comes with clean bandages and our own special lotion. Most hand lotions will work, but ours is formulated for tattoo care.”

Eddie blinked at her in shock. This didn’t sound like a rote spiel, this was something they were passionate about. He pulled out the instruction booklet. It was beautifully illustrated with step-by-step directions on how to take care of the tattoo not just for the first couple of days but how to prevent the colors from fading too quickly over time.

“This is really well done,” he said with a low whistle.

Robin beamed. “Another one of Stevie’s nuggets. Will the Wise. He’s a pretty good graphic artist. He did the illustrations, too.”

Eddie nodded appreciatively. “I didn’t meet that one. Something about having to move to California for his freshman year...”

Robin nodded. “His mom got accepted at a college out there to get her associates in fine art, then came back to get her teacher’s license out here so she could teach in Indiana.”

“Must have been hard on the kids,” Eddie said, putting the pamphlet back into the bag.

Robin nodded. She leaned forward on her forearms. “You going to call or am I going to be subjected to the worst pining outside the worst rom-coms?”

Eddie raised an eyebrow. “I don’t even know what that means.”

“Steve doesn’t do full back tattoos,” Robin explained. “Or large pieces of any kind. He had a bad experience once where he did one and the guy got super pissed, threatened to sue even.” She straightened up. “Not that he would tell you that. He’d probably say some bullshit about that he gets bored too easy or whatever.

“Excuse me, what?” he asked, confusion settling in.

“Steve doesn’t like doing big tattoos, but wants to do yours, ergo he likes you and wants an excuse to spend several hours over several weeks with you,” she explained slowly as if she was talking to a small child.

Eddie’s jaw dropped. “Oh.” He looked down at his chest. “I’d like to set up an appointment for the first session.”

Robin grinned. She pulled up the schedule and get it situated. “All done.”

Eddie grinned back and tapped the card on the counter thoughtfully. Then he leaned far into her space. “And I’m going to call him, too.”

Her eyes went wide as he turned on his heel and walked away.

He licked his lips and bit down on the lower one. Looks like he wasn’t going to kill Jeff after all. He might have to send flowers. The bastard.

*

Eddie strolled into the garage his band practiced in with a huge shit-eating grin. Brian looked up at him and grinned back.

“Someone is super happy,” he said. “I take you liked your tattoo...”

Jeff snorted. “And how was the tattoo artist?”

Eddie grin managed to get even bigger. “About that Jeffie...is there something you forgot to tell me?”

Jeff laughed. “I wasn’t going to tell you shit, man. I knew you wouldn’t go if you knew who it was.”

Eddie cocked his head to the side and then nodded. “Yeah, I guess. But fuck, man. He’s so good.”

Gareth jutted his chin out. “So come on, let’s see.”

Eddie pulled up his shirt and carefully peeled away the bandage to show them.

“Wicked!” Brian said, bobbing his head.

“You try the lotion yet?” Jeff asked. “Holy shit, that stuff is so good.”

Eddie shook his head. “Not yet. But I can’t wait to. I can’t stand the scented stuff and even non-scented stuff is scented.”

Jeff nodded. “I think you’ll really like theirs.”

Eddie shrugged. “Buckley is a bit intimidating as a receptionist, though...”

Jeff threw back his head and laughed. “She is that. But I think she just gets defensive because it’s ‘not a proper tattoo parlor’ or whatever,” he said, using air quotes.

Eddie nodded and carefully put away his tattoo, pulling down the shirt. “I never really got the dingy backdoor aesthetic, if I’m honest. Maybe that’s why there are so many tattoo ‘regerts’.”

They all burst out laughing.

“Could be,” Jeff conceded.

Eddie chewed on his lip and then blurted out, “I’m letting him do the bat wings!”

The room got so quiet you could hear a pin drop.

“No fucking way,” Gareth breathed, almost afraid to break the silence.

Eddie nodded. “You’ve seen what he can do with Jeff’s idea and with mine. Think of what he could do given carte blanche...”

“It’s going to take forever,” Brian cautioned.

“And it’s going to hurt like a bitch,” was Gareth’s warning.

Jeff leaned forward and put his elbows on his knees. “Do you really trust him to do this for you? Because we aren’t talking about some little tattoo because you felt like it. This is your tribute to finally getting out of Hawkins and making something of your self. If he fucks it up, you two wouldn’t survive the ensuing fallout.”

Eddie frowned. “Why would it matter to him if I don’t like–” he cut himself off as he remembered what Buckley said about being threatened with a lawsuit. “It would destroy his career, wouldn’t it?”

“He sure as hell wouldn’t want to tattoo anymore,” Jeff agreed. “So tread carefully. Talk to him about every step. Every choice. Because if this goes right, it’s going to be the most awesome collaboration ever. But if it goes south, man, it’s going to hit rock bottom.”

Eddie nodded. “I know, I know.” He threw his head back and ran his fingers through his hair. “But there is something about the way he does his tattoos, man, that just has this passion and spark to them. I liked Max. I still do. But her style is more abstract or impressionist or whatever. It’s not this photo realistic style that Stevie has that just makes the tattoo pop.” He buried his head in his hands.

He ran his fingers down his face. “Am I fucked up for wanting that?”

The rest of the band looked at each other, then shook their heads.

“No, Ed,” Gareth said. “Of course not. We just want you to think about this before diving into it, face first.”

Eddie sighed. “Look you guys all know who I had the biggest crush on while we were in school. You know. So tell me this isn’t some weird self-actualization shit or something.”

Brian came over and sat down next to him on the two-seater. “There might be some truth to that. He was different from how he was in high school. Even Jeff’s said as much. He’s a good tattoo artist. No one is saying otherwise. And maybe that brought up old feelings again. So it’s going to up to you to decide if that’s why you’re going back.”

Gareth started waving his hands. “Not that that’s a shit reason for going back. Because as far as reasons to get a tattoo, being in love is one of the oldest there is.”

Jeff scoffed, “Pretty sure it was war or some shit like that.”

Gareth rolled his eyes. “Modern tattooing you fucker.”

Jeff grinned back at his friend. “Love you, Gare!”

“Fuck off,” Gareth teased back, he turned back to Eddie. “Just acknowledge that’s why.”

Eddie sighed. “Yeah, okay. I want to Steve Harrington to tattoo my back because he’s the best artist for the job, his work is incredible, and because I’ve always been half in love with the guy.”

He pulled out the business card and held it up between two fingers. “And because he gave me his personal cell number.”

The guys burst out laughing.

“Dude!” Brian said bumping their shoulders together. “Boy still got game.”

Eddie ducked his head and hid his blush with his hair. “Yeah, all right.”

Jeff leaned back and shook his head. “You gonna call the dude or do we have to do it for you?”

Eddie squeaked and waved his hands around dramatically. “No, no. I’ve got this. But I told him I would call after band practice. So if we could get on that, yeah?”

They all pulled out their instruments while Gareth sat behind his kit. He pulled out two drumsticks and tapped out the first few beats of their new song for the others to tune in.

Soon they were rocking out. They went through the songs a few times, repeating parts that were rougher than others. In no time at all they done, tired, covered in sweat, and absolutely satisfied with a job well done.

“Good job, guys,” Jeff said as they packed up. “We’re ready for tomorrow. Anyone need a lift tomorrow? I’ve the car this weekend.” Jeff lived with his girlfriend Miranda Winters and they only had the one beat up four door sedan between them.

“I’ll need a ride,” Brian said. “Mine’s in the shop. That damn radiator cap leaked again.”

Jeff winced. “I think you just junk the damn thing and get something else, man. You’re pumping more money into that piece of shit then it’s worth.”

Brian nodded. “I’ve almost got enough saved up for a newer model. That clunker just has to last that long.”

“You gonna need a ride home tonight, too?” Jeff asked as he zipped up his soft guitar case.

Brian shook his head. “Cecil’s coming to get me.” Cecil was Brian’s roommate. “He dropped me off tonight, he just works tomorrow night.”

They all nodded.

Jeff turned to Gareth. “You got a ride?”

Gareth nodded. “Yeah, man. Gethin is visiting this weekend and wants to see us play. So I’ve got a ride to both Friday and Saturday’s shows.”

“How about you Ed,” Jeff asked. “Your clunker gonna make this weekend?”

Eddie scoffed. “Dude, my clunker as you call my noble steed is in better shape than yours and Brian’s combined. She’ll be fine.”

Jeff chuckled. “Whatever you say, man. That thing is a four-wheeled death trap and you know it.”

Eddie put his hand over his heart, mock-wounded. “Forsooth! You dare disparage the mighty Snowmane!”

Gareth eyed sidelong. “You’re just procrastinating calling Steve. So hop to it, boy! We want to see you call him.”

Eddie sighed, but pulled out his phone. He typed in the number on the back of the card, knee bouncing up and down as he waited.

Click.

“Hey, Stevie!” Eddie greeted. “It’s Eddie. I said I’d call after practice and here I am.”

“No it was good,” Eddie said. “Yeah. We are so ready for this weekend.”

“Yup,” he said, avoiding looking at his friends. “Hey, you and Robin should come out either tomorrow or Saturday.”

“Saturday it is,” he said with a grin. “The Nightmare Holes bar at 8pm.”

“Yeah,” Eddie said, holding his hair in front of his face to hide his deepening blush. “I’ll talk to guys and get back to you on that. But it sounds like fun.”

“Of course,” he said softly. “Yeah. It was good to see you again, too.”

“Yeah, I’ll see you then. Bye.”

He looked up to see his friends staring at him in varying degrees of shock.

“Holy shit, dude,” Gareth said, standing up from behind his kit. “You really do have it bad.”

Just then the door opened and Miranda walked in. She was tall and thin, having done ballet for years. When she stood, her body automatically fell into pointe. Her dark brown hair was in a French braid that went down to the small of her back. Her eyes were an all too knowing grey, and when she walked in, she a mischievous grin on her pretty face.

“Who’s got what bad?” she asked, coming up to Jeff to give him a kiss.

“Our Eddie boy’s got a crush on his new tattoo artist,” Brian said gleefully, rubbing his hands together.

Eddie glared at him. “I swear to god if you say anything else I will smash your base by going eighty miles an hour on the freeway and tossing it out the fucking window.”

Brian held up his hands in surrender.

“Technically, it’s a old crush,” Gareth said with a shit-eating grin, “but it checks out.”

Miranda turned to Eddie clapping her hands and jumping up and down. “Steve Harrington is your new tattoo artist? That must blow your fucking mind!”

Eddie blushed. “Come on, guys!”

“All right,” Jeff said stepping forward. “Leave the man alone. He just had his world view tilted on its axis, give him time to get through that first.”

Eddie smiled up at him. “Thanks, man.”

“And then tease the shit out of him,” Jeff continued.

Eddie huffed and threw himself back on the two-seater and glowered. “Fuck all you guys.”

“Hey, Brian,” Miranda said, “Cecil is out in the parking lot waiting for you.”

Brian nodded and said his goodbyes, heading out to meet his roommate.

Miranda turned to Gareth and Jeff. “If you guys are ready, go ahead and go out to the car. I need to have a word with Eddie real quick.”

Jeff and Gareth nodded and waved goodbye to Eddie. Leaving the two of them alone.

She sat down next to him and sighed. “Teasing aside, are you okay?”

Eddie pursed his lips and nodded. “It’s just such a shock. He has his own tattoo parlor. He pays his best friend to receptionist for him. And fuck if he isn’t talented to boot.” He lifted up his shirt and showed her the new tattoo.

“Holy fuckballs!” she said reaching out her hands to touch it, but stopping just in time. “It looks so real.”

Eddie covered it back up and put his shirt back down. “I’m going to have him do my wings.”

Miranda nodded. “Just tell him that if he fucks up with you, Miranda Winter will be coming for his ass.”

Eddie chuckled. “I’ll be sure and tell him, but he’s coming to the concert on Saturday if you wanted to meet him.”

“Sure thing, darlin’,” she said. “I’ve got to get back out their before they completely change all my radio programs to metal again.”

Eddie laughed. “Well maybe if you listened to good music, they wouldn’t have to.”

“Shut your whore mouth, pretty boy,” Miranda teased back. “I happen to like alt rock.”

Eddie just grinned as he watched her leave.

He frown slid off his face. Oh fuck. What if Steve didn’t like metal? No. Then he would have turned Eddie down, because he new it was a metal band. But what if he forgot. But he remembered a lot about him. So he wouldn’t just forget in a couple of hours. Fuck.

There was nothing for it he was going to have to call Uncle Wayne.

***

Part 3 Part 4  Part 5 Part 6  Part 7  Part 8  Part 9  Part 10  Part 11 Part 12  Part 13   Part 14  Part 15  Part 16  Part 17  Part 18   Part 19  Part 20  Part 21 Part 22  Part 23  Part 24 Part 25 Part 26  Part 27  Part 28  Epilogue

Tag List: @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @artiststarme @swimmingbirdrunningrock @gregre369 @pyrohonk​ @renaissan-vvitch @goodolefashionedloverboi @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach @messrs-weasley @val-from-lawrence @plyerice27 @thedragonsaunt @chaoticlovingdreamer @sapphirecobalt-1 @a-little-unsteddie @i-must-potato @danili666  @carlyv @rozzieroos @wonderland-girl143-blog @itsall-taken @justforthedead89 @emly03 @bookworm0690 @aizawa-emma @thesuninyaface @bookbinderbitch @yikes-a-bee @littlewildflowerkitten @archermightbegay 

[blouisparadise]

Here are some amazing bottom Louis fics that were posted or completed during the month of July. We really hope you enjoy this list. Happy reading!

1) Louis' Wish / Harry's Daydream | Mature | 1987words

Louis and Harry are best friends. Louis is in love with Harry. Harry is in love with Louis. Neither of them knows it. What will happen if Harry catches Louis masturbating and screaming his name? Come and find out

2) It Was Worth The Wait, I Think You Deserve A Taste | Explicit | 1945 words

Louis wants to be fucked but Harry has something else planned for him.

3) To Walk Out of My Life | Mature | 1981 words

This time it was Niall and his stupid group chats that had gotten them in this situation. Harry and Louis have had a multitude of "one last times," they always end up the same, two men panting on the bed using their bodies to convey the words they'd never say.

4) A Messy Show | Explicit | 2,094 words

“Need you now, yeah. Bathroom?” Harry reached into his pocket and shook his head. “Nah. Niall has a girl in there. And Ed’s with someone in our room. And-,” “I get the picture,” Louis said, glaring up at Harry and palming his dick. “You have room here,” Luke said, causing them to both snap their heads his way. He gestured at the people lazying around their living room. “What? It’s your space. Besides, everyone is so high if anyone notices, they won’t care. Or they’ll find it hot and watch. Like me.” Harry combed a hand down his face, and when Louis squeezed his dick, he made the decision for them both. “Sure. Lou, take off your pants.”

5) Can't Believe You | Explicit | 2096 words

Barricade has always been hot to watch. Seeing the fans grab and caress Louis as if they own him. But this barricade went a little too far. “Ripping his entire fucking shirt,” Harry mumbles angrily to himself, bringing up the messages with a certain ginger. 

6) Doctor | Mature | 2378 words

Harry and Louis are best friends that like each other but are too afraid to say anything. Harry is an ER doctor and one day Louis has to go to the ER because he couldn't pull out the sex toy that he was using to get off as he thought about Harry. What happens when Harry is his doctor? Maybe it will turn out better than Louis thought.

7) Except It Wasn’t | Explicit | 5469 words

It was a normal day, except that it was their five-year bonding anniversary. It was a normal day, except that they were going to finally start trying for pups. It was a normal day, except something awful happened to Louis. It was a normal day, except it wasn’t.

8) On That Note | Explicit | 6237 words

Louis’ office job on an omega only floor would be absolutely fine, if not for the alphas he and his friends have to deal with in the building. But although they’ve never met face to face, the friendly notes sent between him and Harry in Purchasing help him get through the day.

9) Your Right Now, Your Forever, Your Last Call, Your Whatever | Mature | 6361 words

“We should kiss.” So they kiss.

10) It’s Only Sunny Cause The Planet’s Dying | Explicit | 13643 words

The man leans back in his chair and looks down at the tarot cards in front of him. “Wow, that was really impressive. How long did it take you to memorize all this bullshit?” He raises a brow and that challenging look is back on his face, but he’s not even bothering to mask it this time. It makes Louis’ blood run cold. “I beg your pardon?” The man chuckles, but there’s no humor in it. “If you take a peek in my wallet that you just stole, you’ll see there’s a detective’s badge in there. Why don’t you come on down to the police station with me and you can explain your methods to me there?”

11) The Boy In The Café | Mature | 14624 words

Where Harry serves Louis his morning tea while writing him silly jokes and dropping his Number there too.

12) This Could Either Break My Heart, Or Bring It Back To Life | Not Rated | 18349 words

Harry never really cared for love: he has two children he needs to care for, and a Country to rule. Love is just not in his cards. Enter Louis, who spins his children's lives but most importantly Harry's.

13) Blue Moon | General Audiances |20351 words

Note: This fic is locked and can only be read by AO3 users.

What happens when Louis moves away from the busy city life to a small village in the middle of nowhere and meets Harry, the sweetest and most understanding Alpha? Will Harry be able to get Louis' walls down? Will he be able to adjust to the slower pace of life in the village and open up to Harry's love? As they navigate their new relationship, will they be able to overcome the obstacles from Louis’ past?

14) Not Safe For Work | Explicit | 23295 words

I want to drown myself in Harry’s scent until I smell like him. “I think I'm open to trying that too. Sounds very good.” Louis shakes his head a little to get out of the Harry’s-scent-spiral. “Huh?” “The dish your finger's pointing at. I thought that might be what you’re choosing?” “Oh. Yeah.”

15) 'Cause I Want You (For The Worse And For The Better) | Not Rated | 26375 words

Note: This fic is locked and can only be read by AO3 users.

When Louis gets invited along to Anne's wedding, Harry is prepared to let people think whatever they want about their relationship. That's what Louis said -- let people think whatever they want. That changes when Louis sees his ex, who turns out to be Anne's future husband's son. Now, Louis wants to prove that he's an omega that an alpha could want, and Harry wants to get through this weekend without letting his best friend figure out he's in love with him.

16) Deep Sea, Baby | Explicit | 28170 words

“Bunny, what’s wrong? Did something happen?” And just with that, Louis knew he wasn’t kidnapped or being pranked. He really was in his personal hell where the ex-love of his life still cared for him enough to make him breakfast, call him pet names and worry about him. And let’s not forget the part where his best friend apparently  was no longer his friend. “I’m…” ‘You’re what??’ He thought. He couldn’t tell his mother he didn’t have any idea how he went from having a nice apartment in Hampstead to wake up in a “Didn’t Know I was Fucking Married and had a Distasteful Taste in Sheets.” episode. She was just going to worry and think he just lost his marbles. No one would believe him—to be frank, he wouldn’t believe himself either.

17) The Property Girl | Explicit | 31428 words

"YOU'RE THE PROPERTY GIRL!" Property what?!

18) Home Calls The Heart | Mature | 44091 words

A series of unfortunate events lands Louis Tomlinson in the heart of Texas. After running from his life in London and a performative marriage, he leaves a scandal in his wake. Home calls the heart, as his Nana always said. Though her words couldn't be truer when he decides to take up her offer to watch over Hyacinth ranch while she travels abroad. He figured the worst he'd have to deal with would be the meddlesome goats, some repairs and an errant spirit or two. That is, until the gorgeous Cowboy next door makes his presence known.

19) Men of Steel, Men of Power | Explicit | 58849 words

“You’ve been watching me,” Styles said. Louis swallowed around nothing. He tried for light. “You’re the newest addition, people are bound to be curious,” he said. “Sure,” said Styles, in a somewhat condescending tone. “I’m not that daft, I do notice the curiosity regarding my clothes. That’s not what you’re doing though, hm?” Styles’ gaze was intense, and Louis could feel it burn on the side of his face, but kept his eyes stubbornly on the coffee cup. “I,” he said, licked his lips. Took a deep breath, tried to look open, confident, dominant. Alpha.

20) The Habit I Can't Break | Explicit | 63140 words

While searching for a healthy alternative to fill the void that one habit left, Louis gets hooked on something and someone totally different. This new experience pushes him way out of his comfort zone, making Louis realize he’s capable of so much more than he could’ve ever imagined.

21) King Of My Heart | Explicit | 83712 words

Harry shrugged, his shoulders brushing against Louis’. “I think since I was young, I craved that feeling, though. I didn’t always hate being a prince, but over time, certain aspects of it just bothered me so much. I remember being four years old and realizing that every person in the world knew my name, and I wasn’t sure if I wanted that. I told my mum as much and she tried telling me that being a prince is not a punishment. That it was a privilege that I should be happy about it, but no one asked me if I was. But looking up at the sky, I remember that all of this will one day mean nothing, and neither will I. All the pressure will then disappear and I could just be.” Louis stayed quiet, allowing Harry the space to open up because he knew Harry wasn’t looking for advice, but just someone to confide in. What he wished he could tell him was that in the short amount of time that he’d known the prince, in Louis’ eyes, he couldn’t be insignificant if he tried. He was brighter than every star up there in the sky. He was all Louis could look at and think about.

22) Wind Beneath My Wings | Explicit | 93131 words

“You shouldn’t be here,” Harry gritted out, wild-eyed. “You should be scared of me.” Louis opened his mouth to speak, to cut him off, to disagree, but Harry was pushing. “I could hurt you.” “You won’t hurt me,” Louis said, simple and assuredly. Calm. “I’m capable of hurting you.” “But you won’t. That’s not who you are, Harry. I trust you,” Louis whispered. As an omega carer that works at a rescue and rehabilitation centre for feral alphas and omegas, Louis has experienced all sides of ferality. So Harry- a cold, near mute, non-receptive alpha- was a challenging case for everyone at Phoenix Rehab Centre. Louis wasn’t expecting to feel drawn towards an aloof Harry, or to form a slow bond with him. He certainly was not expecting for his entire life to change in unforeseen ways.

Check out our other fic rec lists by category here and by title here.

You can find other monthly roundup fic rec lists here.

[ideasarestuckinmyhead]

Can I request hcs for Jack with a sporty! Reader (Maybe volleyball or lacrosse)

Wow, your so COOL!!

Is your #1 cheerleader, hyping you up on the sideline as you spike the ball.

He's so silly even wearing your number, he was able to find a jersey like shirt and diy it to look like your jersey!!

Him and a few of your mutual friends even made a poster to wave when you score!

No matter what position in volleyball you play he's always says how cool it is!

Comes and watches you and your team practice sometime sit his classes are done or he doesn't have any that day.

Jack gets snacks and water for after practice if you forgot yours. need lots of nutrients for sports :D

Loves bragging that your his partner to people, it's so silly but he's so cute about it

Learns all of the rules and bc of this he calls bullshit if the ref does a bullshit one

Jack helps get any wraps you need for a ankle or knee injury bc those are most common. If you get joint pain he gets medicine for that.

If you'll let him he'll massage your back since he knows your lower back is in pain sometimes. Along with your shoulders bc your shooting your arms out to get the ball.

When you get hit with the ball hard Jack is trying to rush to get to you to check up on you.

Jack knows there's many thing you can do to make sure not to get hurt a lot. And you usually play more than one sport but he makes sure your not over working yourself.

If you play lacrosse a more contact sport he's scared of you getting seriously injured.

He flinches when he sees someone check you when you have the ball in your stick.

But cheers when you get a good check on the same person who hit you on the head.

Jack knows the lacrosse equipment is expensive so he tries to pitch in to help you get any new gear you need.

He tries his best to under stand the rules just like with Volleyball.

Loves watching team practice bc yall goof around and dog pile on someone sometimes.

Jack frowns when he sees the bruises on you after a game or practice. Grabbing the cream to help make them feel better.

He knows bc lacrosse is a contact and physical sport your going to get hurt a lot. Like sprains, strains, cuts, scrapes and even fractures

He makes sure just like volleyball you don't overwork yourself.

he'd love to have a sporty partner, might even try and practice with you. Be gently tough he doesn't play a lot of sports.

Jack loves seeing you have such a big smile when your team wins. Going to celebrate with a cake since your starving.

And is there sitting with you if you cry after a lost. Still getting the cake to help ease your sorrow.

In all Jack is a very supportive boyfriend who loves how your able to find a sport that helps express yourself.

[berryispunk]

I Stole Your Heart, You Stole My Life

Summary: You cannot believe you have to bail him out again. You decide this is his last chance.

Warnings:F!reader, m/f pairing, angst (lots of it), fluff (a little bit), nicknames!(baby, dollface, mi amor), slight smut, consent, kissing, mention of substance abuse and alcohol, no mention of y/n, arguing, yelling

Notes:I was highly encouraged to keep writing the story of Frankie and his girl. So, thank you for kicking my ass, without you this wouldn't exist. <3 And also huge thanks to my editor, Sam <33

word count: 3,9 k

Your phone keeps vibrating on the wooden nightstand next to you. You slowly open your eyes, clearly sleepy and try to figure out if you are dreaming or if it’s real. As the sound continues you know it isn’t a dream so you quickly grab the phone and hold it to your ear, the only sound escaping your lips is a mumbled, “Hm?” as you pick up.

“Hey, dollface,” his voice is sounding soft and kind of hesitant on the other end of the line.

“Frankie?” You’re wide awake now. “Everything alright?”

“Yes. I am okay. Sorry to wake you up.“There’s a short pause. “I know it’s late.”

You take a glimpse at the digital alarm clock next to you. It’s 1:15 a.m. and the red of the numbers is illuminating your face, making you blink in disbelief.

“It is,” you answer harshly, burying your face in your hand and sighing. “What’s wrong? You are in trouble, aren’t you?” You ask honestly. As if you don’t know the answer already.

“Kinda…,” he answers, hesitantly and clearing his throat. “I am… at the police station.” His voice is slightly off. The way his Spanish accent shines through, like it always does when he’s tipsy, or on drugs. Or both.

Suddenly your eyes widen. “You’re what?” you ask shocked.

A nervous laughter on the other side. You can just imagine him standing there, with this damn cocky smile on his face and re-adjusting the cap he’s usually wearing. If they let him keep it for the arrest, that is.

“It’s silly. I just–,” he says, almost too quiet to understand.

“I don’t wanna know what got you there,” you snap back.

“Look.. I-I wouldn’t have called if there would be someone else I could call. I didn’t want to bother you.”

You laugh dryly.

“Fuck, Francisco. Are you serious? You know I am always there for you. But this isn’t the first time you call me in the middle of the night.” You sigh again.

There is a deep sigh on the other end before he continues, “I am sorry, baby. I really am.” He has the decency to sound sincere.

“I’ll come pick you up. Can you send me the location?”

“My phone is dead,” he replies. “I’m calling from the police station.”

You roll your eyes. Of course yours is the only number that he knows by heart. “Seriously?” Your voice is getting more annoyed by the second but you can’t help it. This is so fucking exhausting. You just wanted to go back to sleep. You didn’t plan to drive a car, let alone pick up your boyfriend from the police station.

“I know,” he sighs. “It’s the police station on Tanglewood Drive. Same street as the bar.” You know exactly where that is. It’s the bar where you first met, his go-to place. The place that could be considered his main address. You sigh again, deeply and exhausted. “I’ll be there in 15,” you say, clearly irritated and end the call.

You throw your phone on the bed, the anger creeping up and threatening to consume you completely. This isn’t the first time this is happening, it’s not even the second or the third time. You’re just done, so fucking done with his bullshit. And every fucking time you find yourself in this mindset, telling yourself it’ll be the last time but every time he looks at you with his big, sad, brown puppy eyes and it’s like all your anger melts away.

But this time it’s different. At least that’s what you’re telling yourself. You crawl out of bed. Your sleep shirt - one of Frankie’s old band shirts - hanging loosely on your frame. You don’t even bother putting on a bra. The guys at the station must have seen it all already.

You grab the nearest yoga pants you can find and hop into them. Quickly step into your tiny bathroom, splash some cold water in your face and exhale deeply. This won’t be happening again. Not ever. You decide for yourself that tonight is going to be the last time, that this is the line you’re drawing. Otherwise, all of his problems will swallow you whole, dragging you down into dark places you hadn’t even known existed before you met him. You quickly grab your keys and step into the cold night air, its freshness waking you up and this whole routine tells you that you won’t be getting back to sleep tonight. Your blood is boiling in your veins as you start the engine of your car. It’s a cold autumn night, one where it isn’t quite cold enough to freeze, but still cold enough that your breath is very visible in the car’s interior. You turn the heater on the lowest setting and start driving.

Ten minutes later you arrive at the police station. Frankie is already standing outside, a cigarette between his lips, the flame of his lighter illuminating his face for a moment and you are reminded of the first time you met at the bar. He offered you a cigarette and you agreed, even if you didn’t smoke yourself, but something about him smoking was so alluring that you couldn’t help yourself. You had to have a taste of him, even if it was through the bitter taste of nicotine.

He suddenly knocks against the passenger window and you’re catapulted back to the present, leaning over to open the door for him. He’s sinking into the seat, searching for your face immediately. But you’re not looking at him. It’s clear as day that he’s under some influence. There’s the smell of alcohol, cigarette smoke and something else you can’t pinpoint. You’re not even stopping the motor as he begins speaking.

“Thank you so much for picking me up. Cops in there said I’m lucky you picked me up or I would’ve slept in a cell." He sounds so casual, like all of this wasn’t a big deal and you instead picked him up from a play date. Because that's how he behaves. Like a fucking child.

And you’re feeling like you’re his mom, like you are responsible for him when really you’re not. You’re not married, you’re not even living together and still you’re sitting here, the clock ticking almost two a.m. and picking him up from a fucking police station. You sigh heavily and don’t say another word as you start driving to his place in the next town over.

It’s silent in the car, cold despite the heater being on, as you drive through the night. It would be a beautiful trip if this wasn’t so damn exhausting. The two of you driving through the night, only the dashboard and streetlights illuminating both of your features, some nice music as a soundtrack in the background. Instead you’re both sitting in silence, the only sound being that of the motor.

He suddenly breaks the silence, his tone pleading, “Dollface, please say something.”

You shake your head and grab the steering wheel harder in an attempt not to lose control of your emotions.

“I don’t know what to say anymore, Francisco,” you say calmly, but it's the kind of calm that’s only a facade masking your need to yell at him and he knows it. He has to, because he doesn’t say anything in return.

As you stop the car at a red light, you dare to look over to him for the first time. If you didn't know that he’s a grown man, way over 30, you could’ve sworn that there’s a teenager in your passenger seat who got caught doing something shitty. He’s looking lost, ashamed and almost broken.

He must feel your stare, because he’s not looking at you. He keeps looking out the window.

Pathetic. That’s what he is. That’s what he looks like. Pathetic. And it’s the first time since you found yourself stuck in this shitshow of a relationship that you’re not feeling bad for him.

No. You’re angry. So angry that you’re getting hot again, your cheeks burning as the light finally turns green. You hit the accelerator way too hard considering the small car you’re driving. The rest of the drive is silent and you feel a sense of relief as the familiar apartment complex comes into sight. You hit the break, still too hard, making both of you nod in unison. You hoped he would just hop out of the car and vanish out of sight, but of course he remains seated next to you. The small space of the car feels like it’s gonna crush you any minute.

“Could you at least look at me? Please?” His voice is dripping with insecurity. You don’t want to look at him, don’t wanna fall into his trap again. You just can’t. But a second later you feel his big, slightly calloused hand on your chin, lifting it so you have no other chance but to look at him. And the sight in front of you is almost taking your breath away. His whole body language is sad and pitiful. His strong, broad shoulders slumped, his face, especially the eyes, tired and empty and all of it is immediately pulling on your heart strings. Fuck. He lets go of your chin and you soften for just a moment before you decide not to give in. Not this time. Not ever again.

“I do. What now? You’re telling me how sorry you are? You swear you will do better? I’ve heard it all before, Francisco. Every. Fucking. Word. This isn’t my first tango after all,” you snap at him and he’s flinching in his seat like you just wounded him. He looks at you silently with an unreadable expression.

One part screams at you to tell him for a last time to get his shit together, the other just wants to climb into his lap and hug him closely. Finally the angry part of you wins as the weeks of pent-up frustration find their way out.

“I can’t do this anymore,” you say firmly, trying not to let tears build up behind your eyes and threatening to let you sound weak. His eyebrows shoot up, clearly not sure he heard you correctly.

“W-what do you mean?” he asks, his voice nothing more than a pained whisper and his eyes turning even darker, even sadder, if that’s even possible. You take one more breath before answering.

“Like I said, I can’t do this anymore. Any of it. I’m sick and tired of cleaning up your messes, Francisco.” He just stares at you, his mouth slightly open, his plush lips looking so kissable that for a moment you’re staring at them.

All the memories of your good times flood your mind, making it hard to swallow as you feel the knot in your throat tightening.

“Baby, please…” He pleads, his voice so warm and familiar. His nickname for you cutting you like a knife.

“No,” you answer sharply. “No pleading, no promises. This is it, Francisco. I’m done with you. I have to think of myself. I can’t keep picking you up in the middle of the night, I can’t lend you any more money, I can’t watch you destroy yourself more and more. It’s breaking me…” You break off, the last part of your sentence is only a hoarse whisper. He holds your intense gaze, his eyes watering. Is he about to cry? Fuck, you weren’t prepared for this.

“Don’t you dare start to cry now,” you warn him and he chuckles silently, only his shoulders moving a bit.

“I know I pushed you too far. I know I am a dumb-ass, okay? But you have to believe me when I say that I really try to do better. I don’t want to lose you… I can’t lose you,” he says and his voice is full of sincerity.

You swallow hard, your own eyes watering. Fucking fuck.

“Frankie… Please. Don’t make this any harder than it already is.”

He grabs your hand holding the steering wheel and kisses your palm.

“Mi amor…” he starts, his Spanish accent shining through every syllable and your lower body is reacting involuntarily. Normally you would fall for this. Him speaking Spanish was always your weakness, one of the first things you noticed about your chemistry. You squirm in your seat and have to clear your throat.

“Fuck your mi amor bullshit, Francisco. That doesn’t change anything. It doesn’t make anything better. What the hell was it this time? Did some random dude look at you the wrong way? What was it?” You hiss and pull your hand away. This isn’t the first fight you have and he knows you can’t stand physical touch during fights. He should know better.

This is what your relationship is about. The two of you being passionate and stubborn. Fighting, yelling at each other just to make up for it in the bedroom later. For a while this was good. It was intense, new, thrilling even. But as time went on and you kept finding yourself in situations like this when even the sex couldn’t make things right anymore. You have reached your limit, you are past it at this point. Actually, you let it go on for longer than is healthy for you.

“I know I have some issues, okay? I know. But I swear this time it was different. It was all a big misunderstanding. Some random dude called the cops and they took me with them, because I maybe broke something. But not someone's arm or anything like this,” he defends himself, like him not being violent towards another human being would award him a fucking medal.

“Jesus Christ, Francisco! You’re making it sound like that’s something to be proud of?!”

“I mean, it’s better than being in a fight, isn’t it? I would call that a small victory.” He grins at you all cocky. You want to punch that damn smile out of his face. Instead you’re shaking your head in pure disbelief at his words.

“You can’t be serious right now. Whatever you got in trouble for this time doesn’t matter. It happened so much the past few weeks you know there’s a long-ass criminal record of you now. How the hell are you planning on working again? No one’s going to hire you like this,” you sigh heavily, pinching the bridge of your nose.

He sighs too. “You’re right. But I can’t help it, sometimes something in me just snaps and my mind goes blank. I--” But he doesn’t get to complete his sentence because you cut him off with your hand covering his mouth. You know all of this already, none of the things he just said are new to you. The only thing honorable about him right now is that he was never violent towards you.

“I don’t wanna hear it. I’m not having any of your bullshit anymore. I want you to leave the car.” You say resolutely and he’s looking at you with wide eyes as you lean over him to open the passenger door.

“I’m not leaving,” he says and his voice is just as firm as yours. You glare at him.

“For God’s sake, Francisco. I am serious. Get out, now,”you warn him, your voice trembling in anger.

He’s shaking his head and crosses his arms in front of his chest, making his whole frame look broader, almost intimidating. His whole face consists of a grimace as he holds your angry stare.

“I’m not leaving. You can’t just throw me out of your car and your life just because you’re angry,” he says calmly, a stark contrast to his body language. You growl in your chest, the anger setting your whole body on fire. Suddenly sitting with him in the small space of the car is too much and you jump out of it, slamming the driver's door shut. It doesn't take him long to do the same and now you’re standing outside of your car, both of your breaths making small clouds in the cold night air. Your chest is heaving and feels like it’s collapsing.

He’s making a few steps in your direction, you’re taking a few back before your lower back hits the hood of your car.

“Francisco, what the fuck is wrong with you? Do you really think this is saving anything? Were my words not clear enough or is your mind so dazed from all the substances you’re simply not getting what I said?” The words taste bitter in your mouth.

“I heard you loud and clear. But if you really think I let you leave like I am some random hookup, you’re mistaken.” Every fiber of you is on fire by now, the outrage creeping up, consuming you whole and you finally snap completely.

“Fuck off! You should have thought about this before you’ve drowned yourself in drugs and alcohol! Do you really think I can love you like this? You know what you are, Francisco?! A pathetic, miserable man-child, nothing to offer anymore. The military swallowed you whole and spit you out like something that won’t stay down! It made you a shell of a man. And it’s disgusting and tiring to watch you destroy yourself. In the beginning I sympathized with you, but now all I feel is contempt.”

Your look must be pure venom at this point, your words sharp like knives as he stumbles back, clearly taken aback at your outburst. He’s used to you being passionate but you never assaulted him like this before and for a tiny moment you’re regretting your words as you see his reaction. But it’s too late to take it back now.

“Y-You don’t mean that…,” he whimpers, his big hand resting on his chest as if he’s physically hurt by your words.

“I mean every fucking word. I am done with you. So fucking done with you. I don’t wanna see your face anymore, I don’t wanna hear your voice anymore and I promise you this will be the last time you’ll see me. Ever.”

You stare at him and even if it's cold outside it feels like you’re burning up as you feel hot tears streaming down your face.

“Fuck,” you curse under your breath and turn around. You can’t let him see your tears. He can’t win, not this time.

There’s a beat of silence, but not for long.

“You know I love you. Like, really fucking love you. Fuck, I never thought I could love somebody as much as I love you,” his voice is hoarse and heavy with emotions. You can’t turn around to look at him, because if you do, you know how that unfolds.

Without waiting for your answer, he continues, “From the moment I first saw you I knew you were far too good for me. But in some mysterious way you fell for me, only God knows why, but I feel like the luckiest motherfucker on this Godforsaken earth. You make me feel things I thought weren’t possible anymore and I will forever be thankful for this, mi amor.” The last part of the sentence, the way he pronounces it makes your heart break and you start to sob. You’re torn apart between turning around and kissing him deeply or getting in your car and driving off.

Before you decide you can feel his strong arms around your waist, pressing you against his hot body, fitting together like two fucking puzzle pieces and you sob even more. He buries his face in the crook of your neck, brushing away a few strands of hair so he can place a soft kiss behind your ear, making you shiver instantly and for a fragment of a moment you think about the possibility of staying. Fighting this battle together with him. You feel absolutely horrible about leaving him alone in this broken state, God knows if he will ever be able to fight his demons. You turn around to face him, his hands still resting on your waist, his face just millimeters away from yours as you find yourself drowning in his dark brown eyes.

You blush instantly, his breath on your lips warm and heavy but so alluring as your eyes wander to his lips. He knows you. God damn it, he knows you so well.

He finds your mouth, the meeting of your lips electrifying your whole being. Fuck fuck fuck. Your brain is foggy with the sensation of the soft and intimate kiss, all emotions laid bare. It’s making you grab his neck, the soft locks under his cap between your fingers as you answer the declaration with your own mouth.

It’s obvious where this is leading as he deepens the kiss, his tongue dancing with yours while his grip on your waist tightens and your anger melts away, although not completely. It’s still lingering in your subconscious as he takes your hands and leads you into his apartment. Minutes later you find yourself in his bed, him hovering over you, his strong arms on either side of your head as you wrap your legs around his hips, creating the much needed friction you both are hungry for. It’s a well-known dance for the both of you, having memorized it by now, its steps deeply burnt into your brain and limbs.

But this time it’s different. It feels different. Neither of you are talking. The only communication between you is your bodies rubbing together, embracing each other. The kisses are passionate and raw. Seconds later you strip off your clothes, leaving both of you naked.

His intense stare on your naked body makes your breath catch in your throat and his eyes are dark, hungry but also so full of affection and something else you can’t quite put into words.

He’s worshiping your body, like he always does. His gaze never leaves yours as he finally eases into you, slow and torturous, savoring the feeling of you around him like a man starving. It makes you both moan in unison and you scratch his back as it all threatens to overwhelm you.

This is so different from all the times before, so raw and vulnerable it makes your heart constrict in your chest. As you both reach your peak he’s pressing his lips on yours, absorbing your moan. His eyes are still burning into yours before he kisses your forehead and collapses next to you. It’s a gesture so familiar and so loving a little tear is running down your already hot cheek.

There are no more words between you. You’re just snuggling up into his arms, your head on his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat calming down. Him gently caressing your back in soothing up and down motions. His warm and slightly sweaty scent fills your nostrils and you try to store it to memory as you drift to sleep.

When the first rays of sunshine hit the bedroom through his curtains you stand up immediately. You’re quiet enough he won’t wake up. His back is facing you and you watch him for just a moment before you dress yourself and take one last glance at his sleeping form before you head out of his apartment and start the engine of your car to drive off.

You don’t know whether the sound of your engine wakes him up. Maybe he rolls over to snuggle closer to you but you are not there anymore. You are in your car.

He’s going to find the note you left on the bedside table sooner or later. You tried to write as legibly as possible, “Just for the record. I really fucking loved you too. But it doesn’t change anything.”

And maybe he cries as hard as you do.

[misdeliria]

The Same Coin (1.4k)

Following the Racoon City incident, Leon met you in his drill squad. You gave him the cold shoulder from day 1.

"I know your history, Kennedy," you sneer, leaning back on your hip. You're both still in your gear, caked in mud and reeking of sweat, but Leon can't get through his drills when you're not communicating with him.

It took less than a week for him to call you on your pettiness.

"You got real lucky once, and they considered you qualified. Some fucking bullshit." Taking long strides towards him, you shove your helmet into his chest. "You're gonna get yourself, and the rest of my team killed."

You must've felt bad after you shoved past and left him holding your helmet (or you were caught and reprimanded) because your communication skills notably worked for him the following day. You were stern and unforgiving in tone whenever you gave orders, but Leon performed well and kept quiet about your standoffish personality.

A few squad members tried to vouch for your character once the tension became noticeable, but Leon didn't experience any changes until his first assignment.

It all went to shit, but it had nothing to do with your team and everything to do with misinformation about the situation. The original directive was abandoned almost immediately as your squad members got picked off by the hoard of undead monsters.

Leon took a moment to respect your quick adaption and headshot precision once realization settled in through his adrenaline. You looked as familiar as he felt, and within hours of your deployment, only three of you were left. You, him, and Sergeant Hendy.

"Fuck!" You spit angrily, covering your flank as the sergeant was briefly overwhelmed. "Pick it up, Sarge!"

Leon felt the urge to grab the soldier's collar and drag his ass back, but you bark 'Negative, Kennedy." You even go as far as dropping your gun to run for it with Leon in tow – effectively using the sergeant's death to your advantage.

"We could've saved him," he murmured bitterly once the danger was gone and you were waiting for exfil. You had been silent since abandoning Sergeant Hendy, communicating only when necessary and relaying information from the radio.

"He was compromised," you respond, void of emotion and attachment. "It was him or us."

"He wasn't bit-" Leon started to snap back, but you silenced him with a look. An expression mixed with anguish and fear that you tried to cover up with a steely gaze, and Leon could see right through it.

"You can blame me all you want, but I made a call." You turned your head away from him, and he couldn't see your face, but he could hear the lump in your throat. "And I'll have to live with it, but- It could've gone a lot worse if we did anything different."

He earns time off after that mission, accepting a luxurious apartment stationed in D.C. for the time being until his skills are required again.

It's nearing midnight when Leon gets a phone call from an unknown number. He's cautious when he answers. Who would be calling him this late?

"Kennedy. Want to grab a drink?" Leon almost drops his phone when your voice echoes in the receiver.

"You realize how late it is?" He runs his free hand over his face as he glances at the digital clock at his bedside. He could hear your environment in the background and deduced you were already a few drinks in, stretching his legs over the edge of the bed until his feet met cold hardwood.

"Did I wake you up?" You didn't sound apologetic or even curious, like you knew the answer. Leon kept quiet, hoping to move past the question as he threw on jeans and a clean shirt, but he heard you hum in drunken amusement. "Thought so. At a bar on West Marshall. I'll let you know when you get here."

You don't, but it's a pretty dead area, and there's only one bar at the end of the street. It doesn't take Leon much effort to locate you by yourself in the corner, fiddling with a shot glass and a half-empty bottle of rum.

"Kennedy, let me pour you a shot." You're quick to serve a hefty amount, but Leon carefully declines.

"I'll take a whiskey," he tells the bartender while sliding into the seat next to you. He's tempted to stop you when you shrug and toss back the shot like water, but your actions are smooth, and you don't look very drunk. "What's the occasion?" Because there has to be a reason you're getting shitfaced by yourself and randomly calling him up, but Leon's smart enough to keep that insight to himself.

"We're celebrating," you drawl, voice cracking as you shake while pouring your next shot. Leon notes how unfocused your eyes are and the beads of sweat forming along your hairline. "As of today, I am officially a Federal Agent."

You roughly knock your shot against his glass before downing it without flinching. Leon takes his sip, but his eyes never leave your face. He can't read anything.

"This is all I've wanted for ten years." Your voice is wavering, and your eyes are suddenly glossy. A scoff makes your shoulders bounce, and you're a little too loose when you fall forward, but you catch yourself. "All it took was my whole fucking squad."

You tilt the bottle back and take large swigs of rum, and Leon decides to stop you there. His arm reaches out to take your wrist, but your other hand smacks him away.

"I could be blacked out and still kick your ass, Kennedy." You end your statement with a hiccup, followed by giddy-drunk laughter, and Leon chuckles gently at your mood swing.

You're drunk, he confirms to himself, watching you pat your pockets until you locate a worn-out box of cigarettes. You pluck one out before hesitating, warily glancing at Leon. You hold the box out to him in a silent question.

Leon shakes his head.

"Not for me."

"Good for you," he hears you murmur against the stick between your lips. Leon's not sure if you meant for him to hear, but he'll take your verbal hazing over the awkward silence. "Where is my- Fuck, there it is." You pull a lighter out next, and Leon imagines you smoke a lot off-duty.

You take a long drag, looking over the table before dragging an ashtray closer by your fingers.

"I owe you an apology," you say after an apparent moment of hesitation. You tap your cigarette against the tray, interested in watching the ash crumble away. "I've been an asshole."

Leon fails to stifle his laugh, earning a sour side-eye from you. "An understatement."

"I just- I hated you. I worked my ass off my whole career to even be considered for a task force. And the second I get it, they assign a rookie cop with almost no field experience to me."

"Yeah, I wasn't too thrilled about it myself," Leon agrees, taking a swig for solidarity.

"I thought I was getting set up to fail when they assigned you to me," you tell him, suddenly serious. "But I don't think I would've made it out alive if you weren't there. So, thank you. And I'm sorry."

You turn in your chair and hold your hand out to him, and Leon wonders if you're aware of your actions now. He smiles when he takes your hand, and you shake it for good measure.

A spark of interest flickers over your face before you pull away and hold your bottle to him to toast with.

Leon laughs as he satisfies you, bumping the bottom of his glass against yours and taking another sip. He eyes you the whole time, gulping down the last of the bottle with a pained sigh once it's finished.

"There, you drank on it," you point out, and Leon looks at you curiously. "We're settled. Shook on it, then drank."

"That's a thing?" Leon frowns as you bob your head up and down. "No, it's not."

"No, it is," you insist, gently drumming your hands against the counter. "It settles disputes better than knocking the other person's teeth in."

"Oh, really? Who the hell told you that?"

"My grandma."

Leon nodded, grateful he decided to take you up on your offer for a drink. "She sounds like a smart woman."

"Yeah," you hum with a dopey smile, reaching for your pockets and signaling the bartender to pay. "She would have liked to meet you."

[witchyleehibernates-fics]

Clingy Instincts and Sunny Afternoons Spent In The Sun

Summary:

Tommy didn’t particularly like potatoes, he much preferred strawberries, which there were a number of bushes that lined their house that were all Tommy’s to take care of. Tommy blinked tiredly, yawning as Techno grabbed the last bag of potatoes, and grabbed onto the hem of his shirt as they started walking back towards the house again. “You can go rest, Theseus,” Techno commented, and Tommy growled at him as a look of offense took over his face. Techno snorted a little, chuffing in apology before using one hand to ruffle Tommy’s hair. Tommy made a face at that, but he didn’t complain. The last bag of potatoes was added to the shed near the back door, and once that was done, Tommy threw himself into Techno’s arms, clinging to him from the front instead of the back now. Techno chuckled lightly, patting Tommy’s back as he adjusted to carrying Tommy again.

Content Warning's/Trigger Warnings: Hybrid AU, instincts, character hates their own instincts, fluff

Characters: TommyInnit, Technoblade, Purpled, Tubbo, Chayanne, Tallulah, Philza, Ranboo

Chapters: 1/1

Words: 1,616

Status: Complete

Fanfic Links:

|| Ao3 || Fanfiction Net ||

......... ......... ......... ......... ......... ......... ......... ......... .........

Tommy thought that his instincts were bullshit some days. Some days, like today, were the reasons in his list of why he hated his instincts. He was clinging to Techno’s back, quietly purring with half lidded eyes as Techno walked around his garden of potatoes that he was adamant about keeping up with.

Everyday Techno would go around and take care of his wolves, he would help the horses, and then he would travel around his garden that was a bit of a walk from the house. Tommy had his schedule nearly memorized, although Techno deviated from it just slightly today when Tommy refused to get off of him from where they’d been cuddling for the morning.

He’d simply moved Tommy onto his back before making his way out of the house for his chores. And moved to help the horses first, and then the cows, which were normally Tommy’s chore, and then moved to his wolves before turning and walking towards his potato farm garden thing.

Tommy was still not able to force himself to move from Techno’s  back, still clinging and purring in the blurry haze that his instincts typically forced him in. He never knew what caused his instinct days, despite the number of times Philza or Techno, or even Purpled, had tried to explain it was because he repressed his instincts so much.

Tommy repressed because he hated them, and they just didn’t understand that.

Tommy whined, his grip tightening on Techno when Techno shifted him just a little too much. Techno’s chest rumbled, slightly, and Tommy settled back down, though holding on just a little tighter.

His head rested on Techno’s shoulder as he sighed again. Techno patted his calf when Tommy finally settled down. He sighed quietly again as his instincts pulled him a little further into the quiet haze.

Some more time passed with Tommy resting peacefully in the company of his uncle before it was interrupted once more. This time it was because of Techno speaking and not because Techno had gotten a little careless when moving around.

“Come on Theseus, you gotta get down for a moment.” Tommy growled when Techno told him that, his arms squeezing a little tighter and clinging further. Techno chuffed, and Tommy chuffed back, hiding his face against Techno’s shoulder. “Come on, Theseus, I gotta pick up something heavy.” Tommy whined, lifting his head and finding that Techno was looking into a mirror to see him.

Tommy missed Techno’s face softening, but he did notice the bracelet made of gold sitting on a bench a few feet away. There was a quiet sound of confusion as he spied the bracelet, which even had gold charms hanging from the carefully crafted gold chain. He swallowed as he felt the urge to go and take it, even though he had no clue whose it was.

“It’s yours, Thes, go take it.” Techno had crouched down, waiting patiently as Tommy battled with his own instincts. A few minutes later, Tommy slowly released Techno. He barely caught himself because he’d forgotten that, since he’d been on Techno’s back, he needed to use his legs too.

Techno waited as Tommy balanced from his stumble before he made his way to the bracelet. He barely registered Techno moving to pick up whatever ‘heavy thing’ that he had to pick up. A barely paying attention glance showed that it was a large back of potatoes that Techno had slung over his shoulder.

It was nearly Techno’s height and width, so Tommy was a little thankful that the bracelet was more interesting than clinging to the brute of his sounder.

Tommy hummed, carefully putting the bracelet on as his feet carried him to follow after Techno. He stayed by Techno’s side as the brute carried a number of bags similar to the first from the barn that kept their horses towards the house. Their family ate a large number of dishes that had potatoes in them, and they were Techno’s favorite food for if he wanted a snack.

Tommy didn’t particularly like potatoes, he much preferred strawberries, which there were a number of bushes that lined their house that were all Tommy’s to take care of. Tommy blinked tiredly, yawning as Techno grabbed the last bag of potatoes, and grabbed onto the hem of his shirt as they started walking back towards the house again.

“You can go rest, Theseus,” Techno commented, and Tommy growled at him as a look of offense took over his face. Techno snorted a little, chuffing in apology before using one hand to ruffle Tommy’s hair. Tommy made a face at that, but he didn’t complain.

The last bag of potatoes was added to the shed near the back door, and once that was done, Tommy threw himself into Techno’s arms, clinging to him from the front instead of the back now. Techno chuckled lightly, patting Tommy’s back as he adjusted to carrying Tommy again.

Tommy’s eyes closed as he started to purr in content. His head was resting on Techno’s shoulder once more, too. In the back of Tommy’s mind, he was horrified at the way he was acting. Clinging to his uncle like he was four again after a particularly terrible nightmare.

He was annoyed with himself that, even at fourteen, he was still acting like his instincts were new to him. Techno chuffing as he rubbed Tommy’s back carefully alerted Tommy to the fact that he was growling.

Tommy went back to purring as the fuzzy feeling came back.

It took him some time to realize that Techno had moved them into the center of the yard and was laying down with Tommy in the sun. Like a cat, Tommy rolled over and stretched, His eyes caught on the golden bracelet as the sun hit it, and more purring escaped from Tommy.

Techno was also purring, though it sounded different to Tommy’s. Whilst Tommy’s sounded a lot like a cat’s, Techno’s sounded deeper with a more rumbling-ness than vibrating-ness.

They laid there for nearly four hours before anyone came to either find them or to simply check on them. It was Purpled first, who merely laid in the sun with them, after bringing them sweatshirts to put under their heads. Tubbo followed soon after, his literal cat instincts probably nearly forcing him too when he noticed them laying out in the sunshine.

Chayanne and Tallulah came racing outside after lunch, laughing as they started a game of tag. Techno moved to sit up a bit then, keeping an eye on Tallulah as the two small children played. Philza came out soon after them, sitting on a lawn chair on the deck with his wings outstretched.

Ranboo came out last, rubbing their eyes as if they’d just woken up. They took a look around before moving towards the group laying out in the sun. They sat down next to Tubbo, who moved to lay his head in their lap as they started up a conversion with Purpled, who was propped onto his elbows with their head fallen back.

Tommy felt half asleep, maybe even more than halfway. He was purring a little louder than before, and suddenly there were hands in his hair, gently playing with his hair.

He didn’t know when he’d fallen asleep, but he did know that when he woke up, Tallulah was lying on his chest and he was on the couch in the living room with a fire going decently in the fireplace nearby.

“Wha’ time is it?” Tommy uttered, one hand rising to rub his eyes as he looked around in confusion. Tallulah chirped as Tommy shifted slightly. He wasn’t moving to get up, just readjusting to be a little more comfortable.

“After seven, was just coming to wake you up.” Tommy looked over and found Purpled in the doorway. “Is ‘llulah awake yet?” Tommy shrugged with one shoulder half heartedly. Purpled snorted as he moved to walk around the couch to see for himself.

“Dinner?”

“There’s left overs for you and Tallulah being heated up right now.” Purpled responded, crouching down and carefully shaking Tallulah’s shoulder. “Lulah, come on runt.” Tommy snorted slightly when Tallulah’s wing shot out and knocked Purpled over on his ass.

“That was deserved.” Tommy snickered lightly as Tallulah turned her head to hide against Tommy’s shoulder. Purpled made a noise of offense as he stared at the four year old. Her wings were small enough not to cause actual damage, but there was a strength behind them regardless.

“That was mean.” Purpled responded.

“You called her a runt.”

“She’s the youngest!” Purpled exclaimed, eyes wide in bewilderment. Tallulah giggled slightly as she turned her head to peak over at Purpled. Purpled spluttered suddenly. “She just flipped me off!”

“Tallulah? No, she would never!” Tommy knew for an absolute fact that Tallulah absolutely would. Purpled gave him a look, so Tommy moved Tallulah enough so that she was at least semi sitting up. “You wouldn’t ever flip someone off, would you ‘llulah?” Tommy asked. Tallulah shook her head with wide and innocent eyes. “See! She’s innocent!” Tommy told Purpled, smirking when Purpled sputtered indigently.

“Dinner?” Tallulah asked, looking towards the doorway with a curious tilt of her head. Tommy could smell that there had been some kind of pasta tonight. Maybe chicken too, which made his stomach rumble in hunger.

“Food.” Tommy pushed himself up, scooping Tallulah in his arms. It got him a laugh from her as Purpled pushed himself up to follow after them. Still trying to prove that Tallulah wasn’t as innocent as she acted.

Tommy shared a secretive smile with Tallulah who covered her mouth as she giggled.

[jackhues]

a secret - šimon nemec

requested by: anon :)

notes: i hope you like this!

likes are good, reblogs are better &lt;3

gif not mine

you met šimon while he'd been in new jersey for training camp. he'd just been drafted to the nhl, while you'd just gotten a new job at a local cafe.

in any other world, you two wouldn't have even met each other -- let alone start a relationship.

it just so happened that he was recommended the cafe by another devils player, and decided to check it out on the morning that you were working. you made him a coffee, suggesting one of your favourites because he wasn't sure how to order.

after that, things just blossomed.

you exchanged numbers, texting and facetiming whenever you could. you went on dates, you wore his jersey to games, you spent all of your time together.

but you still hadn't gone public.

you were dating, but neither of you wanted to be poked and prodded at by the media. especially since he was called up to the nhl.

in fact, you hadn't even told the team yet.

it's not like it would be the end of the world, but they believed you were best friends. and considering the way some of them could never keep their mouths shut, you guys decided it was simply better that way.

never denied, but never confirmed.

you sat with the other wags, dressed in a nemec jersey, and ready for this game to be over. the devils were leading 5-1, with three minutes left in the third, and šimon had just scored his first hattrick.

it was a big achievement, you knew that. and you just wanted to go home and celebrate it.

which was why the second the game was over, you jumped up and clapped louder than anyone around you. after the stars of the game were announced (šimon getting the first star), you waited for a little longer before heading to the locker room.

by now, most guys were headed home, leaving only šimon in the locker room. he'd been the last to do media, and was going to be the last to leave.

"good game," you fist bumped nico as he walked by.

"thanks, y/n/n," he grinned. "šimon's still in the locker room. he'll be out in a few minutes."

you waved as nico walked away, poking your head inside the room. just like you predicted, he was the only one left. his back was facing you as he pulled his shirt on.

you walked up to him, wrapping your arms around his back.

šimon froze for half a second, before relaxing once he realized it was only you. he turned around, a wide grin on his face as he pulled you into a proper hug.

"i'm so proud of you," you smiled, fixing the collar of his shirt. "look at you, a big shot now. scoring hattricks and stuff. how're you gonna make sure it doesn't get to your head?"

šimon laughed, swaying you gently with his arms around your waist. "hmm, i'm not sure. i do have this wonderful girlfriend who's very good at making sure my head doesn't get too big. i'm probably going to have to spend more time with her to increase her effect on me."

you rolled your eyes, a stupid grin on your face.

šimon laughed at your expression, pressing a kiss to your nose.

"you're so cute," he grinned, pressing another kiss to your cheek.

he continued peppering kisses over your face, pausing before he dipped down to capture your lips in his. you found yourself melting into him, your hand coming up to play with the hair on the nape of his neck. his arms gripped your waist, doing the job of holding you up since your legs seemed to have failed you.

the two of you pulled apart as a loud bang sounded, followed by something clattering to the floor.

there stood luke hughes, a sheepish look on his face as he chased his waterbottle.

"sorry guys," he muttered. "forgot this. don't mind me, i'm heading out now. continue." he paused, "just don't have sex on my stall, that's where i draw the line."

"we - we're not--" šimon stuttered.

"oh please, don't pull that she's my best friend bullshit again," he said dismissively. "everyone on the team knows you're together, and everyone thinks you guys are adorable. i might be changing my mind if you have sex in the locker room."

"luke, stop talking," you told him.

"yes ma'am."

"and get out if you're not missing anything else."

"yes ma'am."

you and šimon waited for luke to leave, before turning back to each other.

"let's face it," you shrugged. "it's not like we were doing a good job at keeping this a secret."

---

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[daeneryske]

"Here."

Eddie clumsily caught the clothes with one hand while holding his towel up with the other. Steve kept his back turned while Eddie changed, pretending to busy himself with organizing his dresser drawers, which he'd never done a day in his life.

"Seriously? This is the shirt you give me?" Eddie asked. Steve risked turning around. Eddie had put on the sweatpants, but he held the shirt up judgmentally. It was one of Steve's old basketball team tees. One of his favorites, actually. It had his old jersey number on it.

"What's wrong with it?"

"Do I look like I have an ounce of school spirit?" Eddie walked toward him, and Steve froze. He still wore his rings. So he didn’t take them off in the shower. "What else do you have in here?" Before Steve could stop him, Eddie was rifling through Steve's drawers.

"Hey, wait—!" There was no telling what was in those drawers. Holey underwear, dirty socks, porno magazines—

"Jackpot."

"Nonono, don't pull that out."

"What exactly is this, Harrington?"

Eddie unfurled something that had been stuffed in the back of one of Steve's drawers, never meant to see the light of day. It was a white t-shirt with very large, colorful letters that spelled out the word "ABBA."

Eddie just looked at him, his eyes alight with pure glee.

"I went to one of their concerts, okay? I was dating this girl, she was really into them, but. . . ."

"But you bought a shirt?"

"It's hers, okay? She left it here after sleeping over." Steve cleared his throat.

Eddie checked the tag in the neck of the shirt. "Says men's large."

Steve snatched the shirt from Eddie. "Are you gonna mock my music taste, too?"

"No, actually," said Eddie, snatching the shirt back. "Unlike your nonexistent taste in books, you actually listen to music. And I'm no one to judge. I get plenty of bullshit for the music I like, so I try not to do that."

"I don't like ABBA."

Eddie sniffed the shirt, which stopped Steve's heart for some reason. "That's a shame. They kinda rule. Help me put it on?"

"We should re-bandage you first." Steve led Eddie to the linen closet in the hallway, where his mom kept a first-aid kit.

"Don't wanna get blood on your favorite shirt, I get it."

"It's not my favorite shirt."

Eddie put his hands up, still smiling. Dimples pierced his cheeks. "Okay."

Steve pulled out fresh adhesive bandages from the kit in the closet and knelt in front of Eddie, applying them as competently as he could. Until Eddie started humming Dancing Queen. Then Steve slapped the last bandage on Eddie's side.

Eddie grunted in pain. "Message received, Harrington."

Word count: 244k Rating: E Chapters: 36/36

Tags: Fix-It / Eddie Munson Lives / Gay Eddie Munson / Bisexual Steve Harrington / Steve Harrington is an ABBA Fan / Robin Buckley & Steve Harrington Friendship / Eddie Munson is a Sweetheart / Steve Harrington-centric / Steve Harrington Has a Crush on Eddie Munson / Angst and Fluff and Smut / Slow Burn / Mutual Pining / Canon Compliant / Hurt/Comfort

Summary: After saving Eddie from the Upside Down, Steve hides him at his house while the party concocts a plot to clear Eddie’s name. What Steve doesn’t expect is how much he likes hanging out with Eddie as they get to know each other.

Under the looming shadow of the Mind Flayer threatening to destroy Hawkins, Steve and Eddie realize they’re each grappling with their own darkness, from Steve’s father’s impossible expectations to Eddie’s feelings of worthlessness.

Their friendship develops into something more even as the party prepares to fight Vecna and his monsters one last time. Steve must decide if he’s ready to shrug off the rigid roles assigned to him and become his own person. Eddie must learn to embrace what Steve has been trying to show him every day since nearly dying: that he’s worth saving.

[veliseraptor]

going to be on a plane on sunday so guess what time it is, it's 150 words meme time

send me up to three numbers and I'll write 150 words in the wip of your choosing! excerpts/options under the cut

1. :You were trying to grow things?: Song Lan said, picturing the dismal courtyard of the coffin house as he’d seen it. The faintest touch of a flush colored Xingchen’s cheeks. 

“I wanted a garden,” he said, almost defensively.

“And you did get one,” Xue Yang said. “Sort of. But only you could get anything to come up out of that ground, Daozhang.” There was a kind of forced cheer in his voice that didn’t quite disguise the wistfulness.

There was, briefly, just the flicker of a smile on Xingchen’s face. It vanished quickly, but it’d been there. “I suppose it’s gone now,” he said.

“I tried keeping it up,” Xue Yang said, “but I’m about as good at gardening as you are at cooking.” There was a strange gentleness to his voice, though, belying the insult. Xingchen’s face still fell, though. Song Lan winced.

“No,” Xingchen said, his voice colder. “You had no skill with living things.”

Xue Yang’s face fell, too. “I tried,” he said again, but Xingchen turned his face away and fell silent, closed off once again. (Life After Death)

2. “Don’t fucking–” 

“Vegas,” Pete said. 

“Do that,” Vegas snapped, fingernails digging into his palms. 

“You’re still healing,” Pete said. “The doctor said–” 

“I don’t give a shit what the fucking doctor said,” Vegas said, his voice starting to rise. “I should be able to–” 

Should be able to what? You can’t do anything. Useless, pathetic, waste of space.

He wanted to scream. He wasn’t going to scream. 

Pete didn’t deserve Vegas ripping into him about something that wasn’t his fault. He hadn’t done anything wrong. He was going to walk away eventually but Vegas didn’t have to give him reasons to make it sooner. (post canon vegaspete long fic)

3. The first time, Vegas died next to the pool. Pete didn’t see the shooter coming; by the time he emptied an entire clip into him it was already too late. He sobbed into Vegas’s chest, clutching at his shirt like he could pull him back somehow. His thoughts were a jumble of no, not now, you can’t do this to me now, do you hear me–

But Vegas was still dead and there was nothing he could do, and so he didn’t do anything until somebody came and pulled him away. He fought, struggled and screamed, but it wasn’t enough, he wasn’t enough, and no amount of fighting would bring Vegas back from the dead anyway. He thought of Vegas touching his face and saying if I die today can you be the one who kills me? and sort of wished he had been, that he could have that much at least before turning the gun on himself and following after. (reduce, reuse, recycle)

4. “Dreams can be meaningful,” Xiao Xingchen said. Xue Yang laughed, but it was an ugly sound.

“You really think so?” Xue Yang said. “God, Xingchen, I knew you were into some new age bullshit but I didn’t know you were this deep in it.” 

Xiao Xingchen drew back, hurt. “That’s mean,” he said. Xue Yang’s mouth twisted. 

“Still true,” he said. “Come on. I thought you were smarter than to fall for that kind of woo-woo shit.”

“It’s not about being stupid,” Xiao Xingchen said, anger starting to break through the hurt. “You could stand to have a little bit more of an open mind.”

“An open mind,” Xue Yang sneered. “Maybe you could stand to be a little less gullible.”

“I’m not gullible!” Xiao Xingchen said. “Why are you being so, so…”

“So what does it mean that I dreamed I made you kill yourself?” Xue Yang snapped, his voice rising. “Or do you think that actually happened in this past life we’re supposed to’ve had?”

Xiao Xingchen blinked.

“Yeah,” Xue Yang said savagely. “Thought maybe you hadn’t considered that.”

“I don’t think you actually…” Xiao Xingchen cleared his throat. “When I saw dreams can be meaningful I don’t mean they have to be…literally true.”

“That’s not what you fucking said,” Xue Yang said. “You’re saying that dreams are memories of who we were. What’s that supposed to say about who I was, then?”

Xiao Xingchen opened his mouth, then closed it. It wasn’t that he’d forgotten about Xue Yang’s dreams. But he did think of his own nightmares, of darkness, nothingness, suffocating grief. And wondered, suddenly, if he had a past life that he was remembering, whether he really wanted to. (Redux)

5. “Turns out I’m sort of notorious,” Anders said, his grin hideously strained. “One or two people looking for me. The likeness isn’t great but…nobody told me I had to go but they…I’d’ve been putting all of them in more danger staying. I didn’t want that, so…”

“You’re not concerned about putting me in danger, I take it,” Fenris said, an odd feeling in the pit of his stomach. There was something tickling at the back of his mind, about the Fog Warriors, months on the run, every person he met a potential threat or a potential casualty. 

“Guess not,” Anders said airily, but a moment later he added, “it’s not the same for you. You’re not a mage.” 

“That much is certainly true,” Fenris said. Anders laughed, even though he hadn’t really meant it as a joke. 

“Are you really planning on going to Denerim?” Anders asked. “Or were you just saying that?” 

“I’ll need to find work somewhere,” Fenris said. “It seems as good a place to look as anywhere else.” He hadn’t been planning on it, but he hadn’t really been planning on anything else, either. He didn’t want to admit that, though; something about it seemed pathetic in a way he didn’t relish sharing with the mage. “Where were you thinking of going?” 

“Nowhere in particular,” Anders said. “Free as a bird, me. It’s been a while since I was in Denerim, could be fun to drop in.” 

Fenris eyed him, but decided to let it go. (the best all lack conviction)

6. It just fucking figured, didn’t it, that Vegas only realized how attached he’d gotten to Pete when he might’ve killed him. (Pyrexia)

7. His father wanted a demonic cultivator, so it fell to Jin Guangyao to find one. 

It was not exactly an easy task. If you listened to rumor, there were plenty of people in the jianghu who dabbled, but rumor was hardly accurate and it wasn’t as though he could approach its subjects – excuse me, I hear you practice a forbidden art, is that so – without at best arousing uncomfortable questions. (jgy teaches xy to read)

8. “Why does this bother you so much?” Song Lan asked instead of answering. “I wouldn’t expect you to care.”

“I don’t care about the people,” Xue Yang said. “What’re they to me? It’s the hypocrisy that bothers me. You talk a big game but you’re no different than the cultivation sects: only doing something when it’s convenient for you.” 

“It’s not a matter of convenience,” Song Lan said, stung. “What would you have me do?” Even before Xue Yang spoke he regretted the question. “Don’t answer that.”

“If you were going to be fair,” Xue Yang said, apparently ignoring him, “wipe the whole fucking town off the map.” 

“How is that fair,” Song Lan snapped. “Half of these people – more – are probably innocent. They might well have been entirely ignorant.”

“They still benefited,” Xue Yang said. “Still got good lives out of it. And never asked questions about how come fortune favored them, or where the disappearing people went, or – but sure, call them innocent.” His lip curled, and Song Lan had the sudden, odd feeling that Xue Yang was thinking about something else. “Funny, how you decide what’s your business and what isn’t. What’s worth seeking justice and what isn’t.”

“It’s not a matter of what’s worthwhile,” Song Lan said. “It’s a matter of what’s possible. I won’t kill these people. I’m not even certain what sect territory we’re in that I would report it to – and do you think they would do anything?”

“They never do,” Xue Yang said. “That’s why you have to do it yourself.”

Song Lan had that odd feeling again, like Xue Yang and he were talking about different things. “I’m not going to take the law into my own hands.” 

“Isn’t that how you work? Fix the problems the sects won’t solve?”

“Not to kill human beings!” (Walking Far From Home)

9. “Did I get your name?” He asked as they walked into the street. 

“Cassandra Pentaghast,” she said, her eyes straight ahead. Cullen couldn’t help turning to stare at her. 

“The Dragonslayer?” 

Oddly, she didn’t seem pleased. “I have been called that, yes.” 

He couldn’t decide if it was a good sign or a bad one that the Seekers had sent the Dragonslayer herself to talk to him. Considering the trend of his life so far, probably a bad one. But that was rank self-pity, and he shouldn’t indulge in it. 

As they walked to the docks to take a boat across to the Gallows, Cullen was acutely aware of the condition of the city. The scorch marks and destroyed houses, the makeshift shelters of people with nowhere else to go. He could practically feel the Seeker’s eyes weighing, assessing, judging. 

“We’ve been doing our best to handle the…aftermath,” Cullen said defensively. “But considering the suspicion and mistrust of – well, pretty much everyone – and the lack of any clear leadership, it isn’t easy.” 

“You haven’t taken that role?” 

Cullen tried not to hunch his shoulders. “I haven’t.” He could feel her staring at him, waiting for more explanation, but he didn’t offer one. (Salvage)

10. Time passed. Without benefit of light, she didn’t know how much, so she wasn’t certain how long it had been when she woke to someone standing in the doorway of her room, leaning against the frame and watching her with bright, intense eyes.

Wen Qing stared at him. He smiled at her.

“Hey, Wen-guniang,” said Xue Yang. “Fancy seeing you again! I heard they burned you alive.” 

She stood up, careful to keep her face calm and unaffected. She didn’t know him well, not personally. Their interactions had been fairly limited, by design. She’d found him once sitting with Wen Ning, apparently telling him a story, and for all his laughter and smiles there was something sharp in the way he’d looked at her brother. Curious in the way a cat was curious about a bug.

Wen-guniang! he’d said when he’d seen her. This is your brother, right? He’s so much fun to talk to.

“I’m not supposed to know you’re here,” Xue Yang said. “Technically. Course, technically you’re not supposed to be alive, either, but Lianfang-zun’s got an eye for talent.” He laughed. The way he said it, Wen Qing suspected he was quoting. 

She stayed silent. Perhaps it was beneath her to be just a little bit gratified by the flicker of irritation that crossed Xue Yang’s face, but she’d allow it. 

“What,” he said. “They didn’t cut out your tongue, did they?”

“No.”

Xue Yang grinned. “Good! That would’ve been pretty disappointing. I have so many questions for you.” (fall apart, destroy, release)

11. Xiao Xingchen groped after understanding. His head hurt so badly and kept spinning and he was so confused, knowing things were missing but not knowing what he knew was missing. “I don’t know,” he said, distressed. “I…something wrong. Something…bad?” 

There was a brief, terrifying pause and then a laugh that sounded genuinely amused. “What? You, Daozhang?”

Xiao Xingchen could feel his face warming but he shook his head. “It was something important,” he said. “That I should have…or shouldn’t have…but I can’t remember. Did I…” He took a careful breath and said, “did I hurt you, friend?” 

“Pff,” his friend said. “No. Don’t be stupid. Come on. You won’t let me kill spiders in the house.” A flash of memory at that image, legs tickling his palm and he could feel someone’s amusement even though no one was laughing. It must be his friend. But it seemed like someone else. 

He didn’t know who. 

“Oh,” he said vaguely. “That’s good. I’m glad it wasn’t you.” 

“It wasn’t me what?” 

“That I hurt,” Xiao Xingchen said. “I…” He was seeking in the dark, and he didn’t even know what he was seeking for. “I think I hurt someone very badly,” he said, his voice fading to a shamed whisper. For a long moment his friend was silent and Xiao Xingchen wanted to cringe. (xiao xingchen + concussion)

[madilovrs]

You Deserve The World

Eddie Munson x Reader

summary: you can’t sleep so you call your boyfriend to help you

1.3k words

warnings: a little angst, language, negative self talk

tumblr is still messing up my spacing smh

It was around 1 am when you had given up on trying to fall asleep. You were a bit of an insomniac and you were well aware that it was cheesy to need your boyfriend to fall asleep. But Eddie was the definition of comfort to you. You knew you weren't gonna get to bed without him with you tonight, so reluctantly you flicked your light on and dialed up the number of Eddie's caravan. It rang four times and you started to lose hope that he was awake, until you heard a groggy "Hello?" from the other end.

"Hey, Eddie, it's Y/N. Im sorry to call you so late… but I can't sleep…. Can I come over?" You whispered into the phone, not wanting anyone at home to hear you.

"Of course, you can, princess. I'll come pick you up." He said quickly, hanging up before you could argue with him like he knew you would. You already felt bad enough about waking him up, you didn't want him to drive all the way to yours just to get you. You knew Eddie would have argued about it and insisted he come pick you up, but it didn't stop the guilt.

You walked out of your house and sat on the porch after gently putting the phone back on the hook. You rested your head in your hands and tore yourself up about waking up Eddie. You felt ultimately awful.

He deserves better, you thought. He shouldn't have to put up with my bullshit. I should deal with it on my own.

You were on the verge of tears and about to go back inside and tell Eddie not to come when you saw his headlights pull into your driveway. You stood up and wiped the tears trickling down your face with your sleeve before moving towards Eddie's car. He got out and pulled you into a tight hug, rocking you lightly. He pulled away from the hug slightly to look at you but you wouldn't make eye contact. His eyebrows furrowed with confusion.

"Hey," he said softly. "Look at me." You didn't respond, only stared down at your feet and sniffled quietly. Eddie tucked a strand of hair behind your ear with his middle finger and trailed his hand to under your chin. He pulled your head up to look at him but you still refused to look in his eyes.

"Whats wrong, princess?" he asked quietly. You made eye contact with him and saw the worry on his face, causing the tears to fall a little faster. You sniffled quickly before responding.

"Im sorry," you said, "I shouldn't have asked you to come. Im a big girl, I can get to sleep on my own."

"Y/N, don't worry about it, I love spending time with you," Eddie said while caressing your face.

"But I woke you up," you said while chewing your bottom lip, a habit you only did when you felt guilty. Eddie knew this.

"I was dreaming of you anyway, princess, now I'm getting the real thing." He offered an encouraging smile, but your guilt still didn't completely subside.

"Eddie, I shouldn't need you to help me fall asleep. It's not your job. Im sorry that you wasted your gas, but you should just go back," You said while turning to go back inside.

Eddie grabbed your wrist to turn you back around and pull you close to his body. "Y/N L/N, it is my job. It's my job to take care of you until the day we die. Isn't that what this means?" He asks while tapping your left ring finger, where the dainty promise ring lay that Eddie had gotten you for your birthday. You stayed quiet knowing he was right. You looked away from him and buried your face in your hands, the tears coming faster than before.

"I know, sweetheart, I know," He said while pulling you into another hug. "Come on, I’ll take you back to my place. We can cuddle and I’ll give you one of my shirts to wear if you want? This one's covered in snot now." He let out a breathy laugh while tugging at your sleeve. You nodded slowly and let him open the passenger side door for you. He helped you in and buckled you up before closing the door and walking back around to the driver's side.

Just being in Eddie's presence calmed you, even if you felt like a burden. If it wasn’t evident in the release of tension in your body, it was in the way your eyes felt so heavy you struggled to keep them open; a feeling you hadn't felt in a while. Eddie noticed and smiled to himself, absolutely enamored by the way you felt so comfortable around him.

By the time Eddie had pulled up to his caravan, you were about to fall asleep, but Eddie’s door opening and closing startled you awake. You took a deep breath and unbuckled your seat belt, reaching for the door handle, but Eddie beat you to it.

"That's my job, princess," He smiled as he extended his hand to help you out of the car. The gesture made you smile and you gave Eddie a tight hug before you went inside. He inhaled your scent as he nuzzled his head on top of yours. Then, without warning, Eddie picked you up and threw you over his shoulder. You both chuckled all the way into the trailer and to Eddie's room. He finally put you down again on his bed.

"Don't you dare move a muscle, princess. I have something for you," Eddie said as he opened up his small closet, "Close your eyes."

You did as he said when suddenly you felt a small weight on your stomach. You opened your eyes to see a teddy bear wearing a small hellfire t-shirt. You have no idea where he would've gotten it but that's not what you cared about at that moment. You brought it close to your chest and inhaled. It smelled like him. Tears were threatening to spill again. You hated how emotional you got when you were tired.

He climbed onto the bed with you and handed you something else. It was his Hellfire T-shirt. There go the tears. You were crying heavily in Eddie's bed and laid back down, clutching the T-shirt and the teddy bear

"What wrong, princess?" He asked for the second time that night.

You shook your head before wiping your face, "I don't deserve you. You do so much for me, and I don't do anything."

"That's not true, sweetheart, having the honor of being with you is more than enough. You are the most incredible person I know and anyone who disagrees is just wrong. You deserve the world, Y/N."

You weren't completely convinced, but you didn't have to be. Those words coming from Eddie were more comforting than anything you've ever experienced. You smiled softly at him and leaned in slowly. You and Eddie have been dating for a while, obviously, the two of you have kissed before, but every time still feels so electrifying. When your lips meet, you swear the sparks are so powerful they could blow out all of the power in Hawkins.

When he pulled away, he leaned his forehead against yours, "I love you, princess."

"I love you, too," You smile, one of the only genuine ones you've given out recently.

You pull away from Eddie completely before changing into his Hellfire shirt and cuddling up with him and the stuffed bear he got you. That night, you didn't have any more trouble falling asleep. You were with your comfort person. And your comfort person had gone out of their way to make you comfortable. Just the thought of someone caring that much made you tear up again. Happy tears this time. You loved Eddie. Eddie loved you. You sniffled again, trying not to get your snot all over Eddie's sheets, and cuddling closer to him and the bear, feeling more loved than you ever had before. Maybe Eddie was right…

You do deserve the world.

[dazed--xx]

Episode 2: What the hell is happening?

Member: Felix x afab! Reader

Summary: From the spam phone call to the meeting with an entertainment company representative, everything seems to be an odd repeat of yesterday for Felix.

Word Count: 5.7K

TW: Angst, Mentions of getting slapped, Mentions of gambling, drowning, Grim Reaper, alcohol, mentions of mental breakdown, signs of depression, cursing, anything that I couldn’t think of sorry guys

A/N: I’ve been working on this for a long time and I’m so proud of it I hope you guys have been waiting for it and are excited about it I’ll be working on episode 3 already but I have 3 requests to post and the first Cardinal chapter before I do upload it but please enjoy and requests are open. Also I love you’re comments and opinions please let me know what you guys think of this

Episode 1

Felix’s eyes snap open, taking a deep gasping breath. His hand roam over his torso and face. His chest heaving, as he sits up in his bed. A small thud draws his attention, his eyebrows scrunch in confusion as he notices a familiar object sitting on the ground. “Hmm?” He sniffs the object, confusion fills him. “Bread? Did I—?” He shrugs tossing the bun to the side. Opening his fridge, he’s greeted with full Tupperware on every shelf. “Didn’t I throw these away?” He questions, he grabs a soda hesitantly. A buzzing can be heard on his table, grabbing his phone a foreign number sits on his screen; pressing the green answer button “Hello” a cheerful familiar voice answers “Hello, my name—ugh Park Jiyho do you ever give up?” He cuts the voice off. “E-excuse me?!” She answers nervously. “You called me just yesterday…” He trails “No sir! This is my first time calling you” She states. He hangs the phone up in a panic quickly tossing it to the side. He rubs his hands over his face. “This is weird...” he states to himself, pulling his shirt over his head grabbing a black t-shirt and denim jacket. He quickly pulls on his black ripped jeans and boots. He eyes his throat medication, shaking his head he grabs his guitar case and rushes out the door.

As he closes the door behind him a bright white paper draws his attention ‘FINAL NOTICE’ it reads. Tearing it off his door he examines the form “they don’t know when to stop do they?” Crumpling the paper up and tossing it on the ground, he makes his way toward the stairs. “What is going on?” He questions. His thoughts are interrupted when he meets a large wall, his eyes widen as he’s come face to face with the larger one of his landlord's thugs. “W-wait why are you here didn’t you just come here yesterday?” The large man looks at him confused for a moment “what bullshit are you trying to spin this time?” He growls “come down I got him” the big man calls, the little man comes from around the corner. Felix’s mouth hung open as he was forced into the alley, his back hitting the brick harshly. He sits in a daze as the thug's stuff bread into his mouth. He stares at the thugs confused as the larger one's fist makes contact with his torso. He slides down the wall, his hands rubbing his face as the thugs walk away.

Staggering down the street he scratches the back of his head, shaking his head in denial he makes his way toward the crosswalk. The walk signal shines, a small honk rings through the air as the familiar flash of yellow and red comes barreling past him. Felix stares at him perplexed, “Didn’t you fall right here yesterday?” He inquires. The driver looks at him, baffled as he groaned in pain “what are you talking about?!” His hand held his shoulder tightly, rolling on the ground. Felix staggers back, anxiety filling his stomach. He notices a mother and child walking past, the little one's dainty fingers losing their grip on the balloon string. The little girl begins to cry and point at the drifting balloon. He quickly rushes to the corner his eyes not leaving the balloon. “Hey Felix!” He hears from behind him. The familiar sight of the food truck, has him rushing past without acknowledging the owner. He freezes an idea popping into his head as he turns around and heads toward the JYP Entertainment building. His hands are shaky as his phone rings, his heart races as he answers “H-hello” hesitance laced in his tone “Is this Lee Felix?” Na-yeons velvety voice calls. “Yes…” He bites his lip “is this Im Na-yeon?” He hears a sharp gasp from the other side of the phone “Y-yes how did you know that?” Her bewildered tone has him halting in his steps. “You won’t believe this!” He exclaims.

Na-yeon sits beside him, her legs crossed. Sana pouring her a glass of wine as he explains the strange coincidences, “S-so you’re saying we’ve had this conversation before?” Her confidence flowing out of her like a River as the question comes out. Felix nods “Yesterday...” she looks at him as if he has two heads, reaching for the contract “1 billion₩…” he states grabbing her arm “you put a check in the contract for 1 billion ₩” her eyes grow wide “How...?” She flips through the contract. Felix fidgets in the seat “Please, this is a big company are you guys like pranking me or something?” Na-yeon shakes her head “What are you talking about?” He sucks his teeth “what’s todays date?” The question jumps out, Felix knows he sounds crazy, but he needs someone anyone to understand what he’s talking about; to know what’s going on. Na-yeon rolls her eyes at him “It’s October 4! Look at any calendar” she snaps “That was yesterday! You told me to kick Y/N out of the band and break up with her!! How do you not remember this?!” He growls in return, Na-yeon looks at Sana with disbelief silently saying ‘can you believe this weirdo’ with her eyes. Felix’s leg shakes as he contemplates someway, anyway for them to believe him. “A Duet with Yeji!” He shouts grasping her wrist. Her mouth hangs open, Sana stares at him in befuddlement.

Na-yeon looks around the room before leaning close to him. “How do you know that?!” Frustration grows within him; his leg is shaking rapidly. He throws his hands up “Forget it!!” He exclaims as he rushes out of the room.

The small pebble Felix kicked around making a small tapping noise as it traveled across the pavement. Felix looked up at the sky, the suns warmth and radiance kissing his freckled cheeks. He licks his lips, as his hand finds itself scratching the back of his neck. His guitar, patting against his back. What could have possibly happened? Why is everything happening like yesterday? He wonders. He watches the park across the street, a small child running around as their mother wrapped her arms around their dainty body. He notices a couple lost in each other's eyes, their hands never parting once. He remembers the night he begged Y/N to come out for a picnic at 2 am with the promise of watching the sun come up. He can feel the softness of the fleece blanket he laid on the grass, the way Y/N leaned against his chest. They never ended up seeing the sun come up falling asleep almost 30 minutes after setting up. A familiar mop of midnight hair in the passing crowd draws his attention, his eyes scrunch trying to find the persons face.

Felix can tell the person seems familiar, ‘Are you happy?’ The question rings through his head. Where did he hear that? His legs moving on their own as he makes his way through the crowd. A bright scarlet coat comes to view, his heart races as the red coated stranger makes their way out of the crowd and down the street turning down an alleyway. Do I know them? He asks himself; his eyebrows scrunch together. How do I know them? An uneasy feeling fills his stomach as he makes it out of the crowd, quickly looking over his shoulder he turns down the alley. He notices the stranger at the end of the alley walking slowly as they look around at everything. Two girls on the end of the alley turn to face the stranger; shy giggles release from their lips as they wave at the stranger. He tips his head to the girls as he continues his way out of the alley and back onto a street. Rushing down the alleyway, he closes in on the exit. His heart is beating like a drum in his ears, his face is burning as he turns the corner. He notices the figure turn down a familiar alleyway. Realization fills him “Y/N!” He exclaims excitedly as he runs toward the alley and into the rehearsal room. He peeks through the egress window, he notices Jisung, Changbin, and Y/N smiling entwined in a conversation her song book between them.

He rushes down the stairs two at a time his hand wrapping around the banister using it to help him quickly turn the corner. He notices Jisung’s eyes growing wide, irritation worn proudly on his features. “Don’t start!” Felix exclaims pointing at the boy as he grabs Y/N’s arms tightly; her hands coming up in defense stepping back in a panic Felix remaining oblivious at her fear as he questions her “You! You remember last night, right?!” His tone is pleading as he stares at her. Her eyebrows scrunch together “what our fight?” His eyes light up, happiness filling his chest. “Yeah! So, then you remember?” She side eyes Changbin “I guess… but it was just a fight that you obviously ignored since you’re late again” sarcasm leaking out of her tone. Felix looks at her confused “what are you talking about?!” She crosses her arms over her chest “You literally walked off stage yesterday in the middle of our performance” He shakes his head “What? No, I didn’t that was the day before yesterday?” His hands grip the side of his head “We broke up yesterday! You hit me!” He exclaims. She looks at him in bewilderment “no we didn’t? Why would I hit you?” She rubs his arm “you’re too cute” her head tilts to the side. “YES, WE DID!” He exclaimed “WE BROKE UP! WE PERFORMED AND DISBANDED! LAST NIGHT! WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU GUYS?!” He gestures to the three. They give each other concerned looks, Y/N steps forward her hand on his shoulder “Oppa, maybe you should sit down” she gestures to the couch across the room. He quickly shoved her to the side “I’m not going to sit down I’m not fucking crazy how do you all not remember?!” He snaps at the three. Their eyes sat wide as their friend flailed about pleading for them to hear him out and listen.

The three stare at each other once more, Y/N bites her lip before releasing a heavy sigh. “M-maybe you should see a doctor or something….” She mutters. A soft loving glow on her expression. Felix stomps his foot in frustration “I.AM.NOT.CRAZY.” He growls behind gritted teeth. Jisung puts his hands up in surrender, side stepping around him “no one is saying you are…. it’s just maybe you hit your head or something last night and things just seem weird” his tone is soft, comforting even. Felix looks at the expressions worn on his friends faces. He can read their body language from the way Changbin won’t meet his eyes to Y/N’s kicked puppy expression. He can feel the pity they held for him, anger bubbling in his core “Fine!” He exclaims throwing his hands in the air “I’ll show you I’m not crazy! You want me to go to the doctor and get my head checked? Fine! But when it comes back that nothing is wrong with me then you’ll feel like the damn crazy ones!” His arms cross over his chest, his eyebrows scrunch together.

Felix hated hospitals, from the bright dull white walls to the smell of rubbing alcohol and sterilization. From the chaos going on around him to the nurses looking at him with pity. Ever since he was a child, he could remember the pitiful glances everyone around him gave. They’d whisper ‘that poor boy’ as he sat in the cafeteria, staring blankly at whatever he decided to not eat that day before trudging his way up to his parents' room. His older brother seated lovingly beside their mother's side, a cold rag upon her forehead. He’d gaze upon his ailing mother, his heart breaking at every beep of the heart monitor until one day it just stopped. He remembered it like it was yesterday the tears that streamed down both his and his brothers face, the way they burned his cheeks as they flowed. His lungs practically burned the same way they did that day. He could remember how pale she was when they walked into that hospital room, the silence sent fear through his chest. His brother rushing beside his mother with a call for the doctor as he quickly shoved Felix out of the room. He could remember his brother crying a ‘she’s not breathing’ was stammered out before the door shut and he was left alone in the hallway. Nurses holding their collars whispering about the small boy that sat in the hallway with his knees up to his chest, and tears streaming down his face.

Y/N’s hand being placed on his is what pulls him out of his thoughts, her bright eyes staring back at him bringing an odd sense of calm. “It’s okay, Oppa I know you don’t like hospitals, but I’ll be here the whole time” she smiles brightly as she grabs a hold of his hand. He pulls his hand away crossing his arms over his chest as he rolls his eyes “or you guys could just fucking believe me...” he growls. She places her hands in her lap, a small pout sat on her bow shaped lips. Her cheeks blushed with a cotton candy pink. The white button-down collar that poked out of her bright baby pink sweater vest quite the contrast from her brunette wavy hair. He looks at her and feels nothing; the butterflies that once filled his stomach no longer as strong and prominent. He growled to himself as his name was called, a glare sat on his face when Y/N followed him into the room. ” Hello, I’m Dr. Jung what brings you in today?” A chubby old man chirped from behind a desk, Felix groans to himself as he plops himself in the seat, in-front of the desk crossing his arms over his chest “my friends think I’m crazy. Can we just get this over with?” He groans.

Felix stared blankly at the passing cars. A numbness ran through his body as Y/N opened the medication the Dr had prescribed for the supposed hangover he believed Felix was suffering from. He shook his head at her gesture without removing his gaze from the street. “I-it’s happened to me before you know?” Jisung murmurs. The groups eyes travel to the boy, disbelief worn on their expressions “what? It did! I dreamed I was abducted by aliens, and they made me their king and when I wouldn’t do what they wanted they’d torture me!” He exclaims excitedly. Y/N’s face scrunches in an ‘are you serious right now?’ Glare as Changbin smacks the back of his head signaling hun to shut up. Jisung rubbed the back of his head, his eyebrows scrunching together in frustration before standing up and giving Felix a light tap on his shoulder “get some rest man” he states worriedly “maybe go home take a nap, focus on today's concert. We sold a bunch of tickets a whole—15?” Felix cuts him off, finally taking his eyes off the road in-front of him to face his quokka looking friend. “Y-yeah…” Jisung’s eyebrows scrunch together “how’d you know that? Did you count them ahead of time?” He accuses, pointing at Felix. Felix rolls his eyes and sighs “We’ll sell another 10 when they open the doors, 25 in total. I’ve seen this all before already I told you.” Laying his head against the light post.

“Yeah, anyway try your best tonight please don’t be like yesterday and just walk off” Jisung waves him off, smacking Changbin against his chest and gesturing to the convience store behind them. Felix’s eyes drift back to the road before him. His eyes encapsulated by the café across the street. He notices a young woman seated in the quaint table; she leans over a napkin in her hand only then does he notice the two young boys seated across from her. He watches the loving expression on her face as she wipes something off the younger looking boy's chin. Smiles plastered on the families' lips as they enjoy an afternoon together. A small hand wrapped around his wrist pulling him out of his trance. His head snaps to the right, Y/N’s bright encouraging smile greets him as she tries to interlock their hands. “It’s okay you know” she chirps “huh?” He’s finally pulled away from his thoughts. “The hangover… it’s okay like I get why you went and drank yesterday but I know you probably don’t want to talk about that so…” she changes the subject as she lifts her off the shoulder crotchet bag pulling out her lyric book “I wrote a new song I-it’s not finished but I think it’s going to be a great one it’s called—One more time by One More Time.” He finishes for her, his eyes connecting with hers. “Do you believe me now?” He questions with his eyebrows raised. She stares at him befuddled before grabbing his hands and waving off his explanation. “We have soulmate telepathy, Oppa!” Her smile radiates. He groans in frustration “Maybe the doctor was right” he runs his hand through his hair “I should get some rest” he declares lifting himself from the bench and making his way back to his apartment.

His head is pounding as he struggles to drift off into a peaceful sleep; the pleas of his band members outside his door go ignored as he prayed for the sleeping pills to kick in. “Oppa! Please open the door! We have a show!” Y/N cries, lifting the pillow from beneath his head he lay it on top of his ear, nestling himself between his futon and pillow. His breathing is erratic as the medication begins to take effect, his eyes growing heavier and heavier before sleep takes over.

Sunlight burns into the room as he jumps awake. Quickly moving his way out of his bed and paces his room; his finger pressed into his chin as he takes a deep breath. His bottom lip sat between his teeth as his hands shake at his side.

What the hell was that yesterday...?

He questioned to himself as he halted his pacing. He looks around the room, he shakes his head laughing at the the insanity. “I must be crazy...” he states whilst his phone came to life. Vibrating on the coffee table, he’s met with an unknown number. Pressing the green button, he lifts the phone to his ear. “Hello, this is Park Jiho I’m call—“Felix ends the call at the familiar voice, throwing his phone across the room in frustration. He rolls his eyes as he notices the bun on the floor. “Fucking great!” He growls under gritted teeth. “What do I do?” He cries as 3 consecutive heavy knocks book through the apartment. Sitting in a dead silence as he listens to the thugs arguing outside his door. ’Idiots’ he groans to himself. His eyebrows scrunching together in confusion as he thinks; if the day is repeating itself, then, wouldn’t the cycle be broken if he did things differently? Taking a seat on his bed he stares intently at his phone waiting for that call to come in once more. Im Nayeon…He thinks let’s do this…make all my problems go away.

Excitement builds in his gut as the device begins to vibrate. Eagerly lifting the phone to his ear with a squeal. “H-hello?” He feigns ignorance “Do you enjoy writing songs that don’t sell? Hello, my name is Im Nayeon from JYP entertainment. Let’s talk in person, yes?” Her sultry voice rang through the device, a knowing smirk embedded on his lips “Sure, see you soon” he chuckles to himself as he ends the call.

“Oh, this is going to be fun…”

Fun. How long can fun truly last? The thrill Felix had felt previous now replaced with misery and a longing for tomorrow. There was only so many times he could deal with the same phone calls and break up with Y/N. He grew bored of fucking Nayeon and Yeji. Nayeon a controlling narcissist and Yeji in his mind was now just a brainless talentless drone. He hated that every night he’d be harassed by calls and texts from his members who refused to accept his disappearing act. He couldn’t count how many times Y/N had slapped him. He found things to be stagnant because of this bullshit repetitive day, so much so, he’d spent many nights in a holding cell due to the release of his pent-up frustrations. From destroying Im Nayeon’s office to his apartment; everything was left in a wake of destruction. In the end, Felix would be hauled off to the police station only to wake up back in his apartment. The bun would remain untouched and ignored on his floor; calls from Park Jiho go unanswered. He was desperate, he needed to see tomorrow. Everything he tried always seemed to fail. He’d even gone as far as staying up all night watching the sun lift itself from behind the skyline and the date change: only for his head to begin pounding massively, his ears ringing as the room began to spin. He’d pass out and awaken on October 4th once more.

That’s how he’d found himself seated in-front of the familiar pond. His mind racing as he stared at the moon's reflection across the water. A bottle of soju in one hand, his regrets in the other. Lifting himself from beneath the towering cherry blossom tree, he stumbles his way toward the shoreline. Taking a large gulp of soju “It started here, so I’ll end it here…” he declares; tossing the bottle to the side he glided his way into the water. The water slowly climbing its way up his body before caressing his neck and forcing his head under. Panic fills his stomach as he struggles to breathe. He doesn’t see the tall, pale figure walking gracefully toward him above the water line. A red coat adorning the figures torso, as he stares at Felix’s flailing. His hands in his pocket and eyebrows raised. In his struggle, Felix can feel that familiar wave of uneasiness; the overwhelming feeling of being watched has him thrashing around. A flash of red catches his eye “YOU!” He growls as he points at the figure, who looks at him with pity and annoyance “why are you putting yourself through this?” His tone is soft and almost pleading “Nothing will change…” Felix’s hand sinks once more, he pulls himself closer to the man.

“You did this to me didn’t you? Or at least you know why this is happening to me don’t you?” The man stakes a step back before crouching just out of Felix’s reach. “I didn’t do it...” He states matter of factly, his finger going to his chin “it’s like a glitch…” He nods to himself “Like a hole in your canvas you cannot erase those types of mistakes” Felix rolls his eyes mentally “What?”

“It’s like a computer virus, anyway…it doesn’t matter if you die, the outcome will be the same; isn’t that cool?” Red coat smiles as Felix doesn’t resurface, he watches as he sinks lower and lower “Im sorry” He apologizes to the water before grasping his necklace and turning the center circle over and walking away.

Staring blankly ahead Felix watches as the moped fell for what could be the 100th time. Ignoring the crying child whose balloon flew away again. He looked at the disgustingly blue food truck. Taking timid slow steps, he approaches the window a pout firm on his lips “I need your help” He states sadly to his brother, Chan sighs. His brother looks at him with suspicion “I don’t have any money for you…” Chan warns, Felix sucks his in frustration “I don’t you need your money, smartass” Chan rolls his eyes at his younger brother’s attitude “you must be desperate if you came to me…what Y/N finally leave your bum ass?” Felix shakes his head “this was a mistake” Chan reached through the window “Give me 2 minutes...”

The sun slowly sets as Felix stares at its retreating figure, Chan extends a soda to Felix who takes it hesitantly. “So, you’re saying, the same day just keeps repeating?” Chan asks in disbelief as Felix nods his heart numb to the world around him “No matter how much I pray or die; nothing will change it will always be October 4th for me” his voice is full of hurt. Chan stares at his little brother with pity in his eyes “H-how many times have we talked about this?” Embarrassment is etched on Felix’s face. “This is the first time” he mumbles. Chan’s eyes widen as his mouth hangs open fully offended, he smacks the younger boy on the back of his head. “Rude little shit!” He scolds “even if you don’t like me, you always ask your family for help—with what? How would you even help since you get reset every night anyway?!” Felix cuts him off “still Felix! I would have done my best to help you! If you feel stagnant in your life maybe do things differently. Try things you never thought you would try! See things you’d never thought you’d see but don’t sit there and let everyday be boring and the same” Chan encourages. Felix smiles in realization “You’re right!” He jumps to his feet and rushing back to his apartment.

Waking up after yesterday’s talk with his older brother; Felix feels a newfound determination. Quickly rushing out of his apartment he smiles at the large man “Morning!” He calls happily before gesturing to the partner on the staircase that led to the roof “Come down I know your there” the man makes his way down the stairs slowly as Felix nods “We have some things to work out, no?” The two look at each other in bewilderment as Felix hands them his guitar case “Here! This should settle my debt and then some. Let’s start new lives, huh boys?” He gently taps the larger male's cheek before he scoots around them and makes his way down the stairs.

Coming to the familiar crosswalk, Felix flags down the moped, who falls in his hast to avoid hitting Felix. “Mr. Kim, your brake pads are worn out” Felix informs the older man who sat with a confused expression on his face. “But I just changed them a few days ago...” the old man murmurs to himself as Felix cheerfully crosses the road. Instantly grasping the escaping balloon’s string handing it to the poor crying child, with a pat on the little one's head. Felix skips his way past Bang Chans food truck giving him a chipper hello as he makes his way down the alley.

Standing in-front of the hidden gambling hall he’s recently discovered; he smirks as he makes his way inside. The beverage girl, Jeon Soyeon, he’s used to flirting with, is quick to introduce herself as he pretended to stumble upon the hall, once again. He notices the familiar group of older men in the corner playing blackjack. The oldest of the men Park Jinyoung smiled as he hit another 21. Determined, Felix takes a double shot of whiskey the vixen held in-front of him before making his way over to the table. “Looking to lose your money, young man” Jinyoung prods as the dealer shuffles the shoe, Felix gives a clueless glance to the older man “A-are you sure?” He questions the player; collecting his chips Jinyoung smiles knowingly before gesturing Felix to sit down “of course! Always room for another player” from the past few times Felix has been to the hall he knows Jinyoung won every time he played. Yesterday, Felix almost came close only for Felix to bust allowing Jinyoung to goad him into hitting. Jinyoung has a 10 facing and from game’s previous Felix knows he will turn over another 10 he tries the same tact Jinyoung previously had used to convince Felix to hit. His plan fails as Jinyoung stands the other players withdrawing from the game as they bust. Felix ends his hand with a 20 and the dealer busts with 23.

As the hours draw by Felix now sat full of confidence as Jinyoung’s chips now sat in-front of Felix. Pride filling him as he grabs the last of the chips before requesting his winnings with a bright smile. His attention is caught by Soyeon who saunters over a warm smile on her plush thick lips as she bats her eyes seductively. She extends her hand carrying the tray with an array of alcoholic beverages “Drink for the big winner?” She asks the smile not leaving her lips “sure...” Felix wearily accepts before lifting another double shot of whiskey, throwing the shot back in one go. “I’ve never seen you in here before doll face, will I be seeing you again?” She flirts. Felix shrugs disappointedly “Even if you did…. you wouldn’t remember me beautiful” A pout forms on the girls' lips “Maybe you can give me something to remember then...” She bites her lip with a wink. Felix’s cheeks warm at her brazenness. “Maybe...” He smiles as someone places a bag on the table in-front of him. Opening it his eyes widen, never in his life has he ever seen this much money. “I get out soon..wait for me” Soyeon seductively whispers before saunter away.

Felix’s teeth nipped at Soyeon’s thick bottom lip. Her hands tangling themselves in his hair as he pins her against his door; her legs wrapped securely around his waist as he gripped her thighs. Soyeon moans as Felix attacks her neck nipping and sucking at the sensitive skin. Her hands desperately grab at his shirt lifting it over his head. Soyeon’s eyes widen as her eyes scan his body. She giggles as Felix makes his way over to his bed laying her down as he unbuttoned her shorts. Their lips meet once more as Felix lifts her shirt his hand snaking its way beneath the fabric and cupping her breast. Kissing trails down her stomach he slowly pulls her shorts off. His eyes meeting the black lace she wore underneath; he licks a stripe on her clothed slit. “F-Fuck..” She groans “I-I’ll definitely remember you” Felix smirks at her, for now he’ll allow himself to believe her. His confidence is swelling as he pulls the fabric off and rapidly attacks her core with his tongue. Soyeon’s eyes rolling to the back of her head as her fingers tangle with Felix’s hair. He palms himself over his jeans before forcing the clothing down freeing his throbbing member “Fuck your pussy is so sweet” He moans as he licks widely against her bud. Her legs tighten around his head as she rides her climax on his face her moans almost pornographic. Biting his lip, he slowly glides his member along her slit, her eyes were blown out and cheeks red. “P-please don’t tease me” she begs as she lines his member with her hole.

Felix growls as he glides himself into her tight core, Soyeon desperately cries out as he bottoms out in her. Her arms desperately wrapping around his neck as he gives her no time to adjust. His hips move at a rapid pace, lifting himself from the girl he pins her wrists above her head. His eyes roll to the back of his head, “F-fuck..p-please” she cries “I can’t—yes you can beautiful you’re doing so well” Felix praises as he presses a kiss against her neck. “It’s too much...” Her pleas so cute and innocent almost a complete 180 from the flirtatious vixen he’d met in the gambling hall. Her eyes roll to the back of her head as he feels her tighten around him. His hand wraps around her throat as he chases his own climax, his thrusts becoming sloppy as he feels that familiar tightness in his stomach. Animalistic growls erupt from his chest as he releases inside the girl.

Soyeon quickly falls asleep after they cleaned themselves. Making his way over to his table he spots the medication Y/N had left for him the night before all this began. Lifting the small capsules, he places them in his mouth as he grabs the glass of water sat beside them. He taps his fingers against the table staring at the bag of money. Opening it he smiles, holding the funds in his hands for what he knows is the last few hours he sighs, as he remembers how long it had taken him to win. He’d probably spent what would be two weeks of losing the JYP signing bonus. Before he’d finally won. Finally, he had found a silver lining in this situation.

He groans as his throat begins to feel scratchy and his mouth dry. He regrets having taken the medication, despite his vocal nodules he felt he could withstand the pain of his condition better than he could deal with the side effects of this damned medication. The sound of sirens pull him out of his thoughts, his eyebrows scrunch together as he makes his way to his window seeing 2 ambulances rush down the street past his building. “Damn, I hope nothing serious happened…” he whispers to himself as he closes his curtain; laying back in bed next to Soyeon’s peacefully sleeping figure knowing she won’t be there when he wakes up. An empty feeling fills him as he observes her features. As he drifts off to sleep a figure stands below his window, his bright red coat standing out in the dark surroundings as he stares at the boys window.

He sucks his teeth to himself as he shakes his head sorrowfully before he sighs lifting his hood. “Felix… you disappoint me” he laments “This could have been a work of art and you continue to destroy it all” his eyes now on the crowd down the road the lights of the ambulances telling him things have not changed. With a heavy heart he lifts his necklace, spinning the smaller circle in the center over once again. Staring at the sand in the hourglass resetting he sighs “I hope you find true happiness soon..” his eye’s embedded on Felix’s window before returning to the ambulances that make their departure.

“For your sake..”

[definitelynotaminion]

Rated "R" - Part 5

This is a continuation of sneak peaks for Chapter 2 of this Jaytim fic (7k chapter 1). (Also on ao3) The full wip of chapter 2 is up on my patreon, if you're interested (full fic, 13.1k so far). Here's where to read the rest of the released sneak peaks in chronological order on tumblr.

-

“I really wouldn’t have been.” Tim snorts. “You’re giving me way too much credit. There wasn’t really… anything interesting about me, back then.”

“Ha.” Jason says. “I was interested, wasn’t I? If the rest of all that—bullshit—hadn’t happened, I’d have looked for you. The last time I went by that fire escape, you weren’t there.”

“I didn’t live there.” Tim points out, amused.

“Eventually, I’d have seen you out again somewhere else.” Jason threatens. “Now that I knew your face—it would have caught my attention, seeing the same kid with a camera.”

“I didn’t have the camera at the gala.” Tim reminds. He licked his lips. “I would be dressed differently. Another—slightly altered-- hair style.”

“So maybe I wouldn’t recognize you.” Jason lets his lips curve up. “Instead, you’d just look... familiar. Someone I ought to know."

Another cry for that, ragged and wanting. Tim gasps into the comm.

“Yeah?” Jason licks his lips. His heart rate just does kick up for that, for landing the right blow. It settles something, his own rucked feathers, to be... doing good. To do it right. To touch Tim even from so far away.

“Jay.” Babyest bird sounds gutted, struck raw on the unforgiving concrete of that balcony. Maybe needing to claw a gauntlet off, feel the grit of that ground under him, shove his hand somewhere he can feel the skin. His neck, maybe.

“Yeah, I hear ya.” Jason gives into it a little, into the boy he used to be-- the boy he, heh, still is on the inside, when he can stop being so thick-headed about it. “Those suits were always so-- like they should have been scratchy and irritating, but Alf would never allow it. Perfectly tailored and soft, so I couldn’t even complain. They weren’t even that constrictive except it felt like a monkey suit, you feel?”

“Mine were. Exceedingly less pleasant.” Like Bruce, like fucking-- so goddamn damaged. Jason has instincts for that too and they start and fucking end with making it better, making it right.

A tight little smile coiled in Tim’s voice, stilted but offering, letting Jay in. And there’s only one way to respond to that.

There’s an opening there, a way to make this about what they were wearing and how they’d take it off, but --fuck, why does that feel like it would cheapen this?

“It made it less shitty to be the one designing them.��� Jason says. “Or have a hand in it, at least. Alf was letting me-- he’d show me the cut and styles and I’d get a little input. Color schemes, that kind of thing. We made it a game.”

“How many shurikens fit under the folds of fabric?” Tim asks, a hint of-- not quite incredulity--

“A game of how many pouches, pockets and--heh, yeah-- pointy things I could build into the design before it stopped looking chic.”

“I. Pointy things.”

“Robin just wasn’t given the kind of knives I liked.” Jason sighs pointedly, almost-- yeah, wistfully.

A snrrk that might be disguised snickering, fading into breathy huffs of not-laughter. Fuck, yeah, Tim.

“Jason had a few, though.” Jason offers, smug about it. And if Bruce didn’t like it-- well. The world wasn’t split into things Bruce didn’t like and things Jason could have-- no matter how much it had seemed like it, sometimes.

“You do like. Knives.” A little swallow, and imagining that-- the fucking scar he hadn’t meant to give-- bobbing on Tim’s throat--

Fuck, a scar he’d have to wear as a civilian.

“Did then, too.” Jay swallows, redirecting. “We were designing this all black number for the next one-- black dress shirt, black coat, black slacks.”

“Nrrg.”

Jason laughs, letting it be as breathless as it wants.

“That do it for you, baby bird?”

A choked off-- what was that sound? It was all vowel and whine.

“It would have. Done it for me then. Just so you know.”

Jason flicked the tip of his tongue to his lip, pressing there. Fuck. Being wanted was its own drug.

“Yeah?” He cajoled. “Enough for Timothy Drake to forget himself, stare just a little too long?”

“I was often. Forgiven. Certain miniscule facial expressions if nobody was looking.”

“And nobody was ever looking, that way. I hear ya. But Tim? I would have been. I am.”

[thatndginger]

OC Deep Dive Tag

thank you very much @pandoras-comment-box for the tag (their answers for the fantastic Cal and Finder here!)

Rules: answer the following questions for your OCs!

I used a random die roll to pick which character got to answer these, and apparently the universe really likes Warrick right now, because he's the winner~

What uncommon/common fear do they have? 

Warrick is scared of heights, and also of outer space. His reasoning for that last one is that it is a near-perfect vacuum devoid of anything except for bullshit fake-but-actually-not stuff called ‘dark matter’ and ‘dark energy’. Of course he should be scared! Also: aliens.

Do they have any pet peeves? 

For someone who doesn’t really care about germs, he really hates it when people don’t wash their hands before putting them anywhere near their mouths. Or any orifice, really.

What are 3 items you can find in their bedroom? 

A duffel bag full of spraypaint cans. A poster for the “4th international motorcycle speed event” of 1964. A white, sheer silk shirt with a floral pattern.

What do they notice first in a person? 

Confidence, or lack thereof.

On a scale of 1 to 10, how high is their pain tolerance? 

For minor injuries 3/10. For major injuries 8/10. He’ll whine to hell and back about a stubbed toe, but will try to play off a dislocated joint like it’s no big deal.

Do they go into fight or flight mode when under pressure? 

Usually flight, unless he’s been backed into a corner.

Do they come from a big family/are they a family person? 

Yes, because Warrick considers the Pack to be his family. There are roughly 20-30 people who consider themselves Pack (the numbers fluctuate some as people come and go) which is a big family. And while he’s kind of flighty and forgetful Warrick’s end goal is to make sure they’re safe.

What animal represents them best?

…. Well, he is a werecougar. But if I had to pick another animal, it’d be a labrador retriever: friendly, loyal, sometimes kind of dumb, and 10th most dangerous dog breed in the US statistically.

What is a smell that they dislike? 

Banana.

Have they broken any bones? 

Yup. He’s broken a couple toes and fingers, and once one of the bones in his tail while in cougar form.

How would a stranger likely describe them? 

Cute in a gangly goofball way, flamboyant, fantastic hair, a little spacey.

Are they a night owl or a morning bird? 

Night Owl 100%. His preferred schedule is staying awake until 5am and sleeping until 2pm. Or later.

What is a flavor they hate and a flavor they love? 

Hate - sweet potato. Love - Fenugreek

Do they have any hobbies? 

Graffiti art, urban exploring, fleecing unsuspecting fools in games of pool.

Boom, surprise birthday party! How do they react to surprises? 

After he manages to restart his heart, Warrick is so fucking jazzed. People want to celebrate him? And they went to the trouble of planning a surprise party? This is the best thing to ever happen to him. Will try to pretend that this doesn’t make him want to cry happy tears, but is going to hug every single person in the room at least once and will be smiling like a loon the entire time.

Do they like to wear jewelry? 

Oh my god, yes. In addition to being a fashion disaster when it comes to clothes, Warrick loves accessorizing. He’s got a couple ear piercings and an eyebrow piercing that he’ll change out regularly, and always has some assortment of rings, bracelets, and necklaces. He doesn’t stick to one material either, so it’ll be a mix of gold, silver, leather, shell, or whatever else he’s found. It shouldn’t look good but somehow usually does.

Do they have neat or messy handwriting? 

Messy. So messy. Which is hilarious considering his graffiti writing is usually very neat and stylized. But give him a pen and it devolves to chicken scratch.

What are the two emotions they feel the most? 

Excitement and boredom.

Do they have a favorite fabric? 

Silk. Followed closely by linen. He’s a fan of natural fibers.

What kind of accent do they have?

A generic American accent with a bit of that northwestern accent (saying egg like “aygg”, caught as “cot”, pawned as “pond”)

I shall gently tag @sliceoflifeshepard @aritany @half-hell @a-crystallen-author if y'all would like to rant about an oc or two!

Here is a handy list of the questions to make it easy for you:

What uncommon/common fear do they have? Do they have any pet peeves? What are 3 items you can find in their bedroom? What do they notice first in a person? On a scale of 1 to 10, how high is their pain tolerance? Do they go into fight or flight mode when under pressure? Do they come from a big family/are they a family person? What animal represents them best? What is a smell that they dislike? Have they broken any bones? How would a stranger likely describe them? Are they a night owl or a morning bird? What is a flavor they hate and a flavor they love? Do they have any hobbies? Boom, surprise birthday party! How do they react to surprises? Do they like to wear jewelry? Do they have neat or messy handwriting? What are the two emotions they feel the most? Do they have a favorite fabric? What kind of accent do they have?

[beefrobeefcal]

I am several days late, but here I am!

Thank you @romanarose, @noxturnalpascal & @inept-the-magnificent for the tags. Yes, I am combining multiple tags for various WIP games into one. 😁

I'll be following @inept-the-magnificent's framework for this one, babies!

Beefro 👌🥩💜

Step One: Post snippets of the fics you're currently working on (it can be a summary if there's no snippet).

1. By the time you’d finished your bottle of wine, Katie decided you’d both had enough, and it was time to head out back and see the guys. As soon as you stepped out onto the back porch, Benny wrapped you up in a big hug. You hugged him back tightly, and then you saw him. Over your shoulder, you saw Frankie standing to side, beer in hand, and what a sight he was.  The Standard Oil cap on his head and his curls lightly poking out - same as before. But his salt and pepper jaw line was much softer. His body, framed by his broad shoulders and thick arms, was much bigger. His middle, where you last felt a washboard stomach, now boasted a belly, big enough to cause his belt and waistband to bow under it. His t-shirt pulled tight across his tummy, letting you see the indent of his belly button and the curves of his love handles.   “Hey Checkers.”, he said softly, nervously fidgeting his fingers, as if he was internally debating on offering you a hug or not.  

2. “Eatin’ like it's your last day on earth, Miller...”, you teased with a wry smile as you walked past him in the dining hall.   “Shut it...”, he grumbled, a bit of pink flushing his cheeks. He took another bite of gravy-flooded mashed potatoes.  “What’s helping is this? Third? Fourth?”  Joel looked at you, exasperated. “The fuck? Can't a man enjoy his girl’s cookin’ without the third degree?”  You smiled at him, loving how much of a rise you were getting. It had been a few months since you and Joel had your first encounter, and while nothing was made official, more often than not, you’d find yourself entwined with Joel in your bed at night. His heavy, full stomach pressed against your back as you both slept peacefully. While you enjoyed your time together, you were beginning to feel it was lacking, hence your teasing.  The cold glare he gave immediately dampened the playful banter between you. You felt a twist in your mood and sour heat in your stomach. 

3. “If it were anyone else…”, Tom warned.   “Yeah, we know. But it’s not. It’s Fish. He’s one of us.”  Pope sat back and watched Will do something none of them thought they’d have to do – convince Tom to give a shit.  “He’s a fuckin’ coke head! Snortin’ our own shit and lyin’ about it!”, Tom boomed, standing over Will. “You ran the fuckin’ numbers, you see how much money we lost up his fuckin’ nose! And now you wanna spend more money tryin’ to get that fucker clean again?”  Will didn’t bend. He didn’t shrink and he didn’t back down. “It’s Frankie. Catfish. Our Catfish. And he needs help.”  Tom huffed harshly enough in Will’s face that his hair moved, then turned his ire to Pope.   “You think Fish’s worth it? Already cost us a shit load of money and Will wants to blow more on that shithead.”  Pope slipped into his smooth and nonchalant voice and crossed his arms. He’d hoped this would give Tom the impression that he was just as unnerved and steadfast as Will.  “You know he’d do the same thing for any of us.”  “Fuckin’ altruistic bullshit!”, Tom barked, slamming his fist on the table.  

Step 2: Put them in a Poll and let the people have their way with you by voting on what you should work. Democracy Rocks!

No Commitment Taglist: @theywhowriteandknowthings @covetyou @goodwithcheese @morallyinept

[rarijackistheshit]

Writing prompt:

"Once I tried to save you. Now, I'd rather watch you burn.

We have this really old and really bad coffee machine at work. Now, that's not really unique for any company. A friend of mine works as a consultant, meaning that she spends an unhealthy amount of time in other offices than her own. She grades her coffee on a  20 grade scale, because she claims that you need to be that precise and that a 1 on a 1 to five scale isn’t low enough to describe some of the atrocities she has tasted.

Now, this story isn’t about her, really, but it is a fun anecdote and always an icebreaker at lunch tables. So many people have opinions about coffee, I once spent an hour discussing…

Okay, this isn’t about that either. It's about him.

Him in the meaning him. Him, in Sloane who works three cubicles down from me. I may walk a bit slower as I pass him on my way to the printer. Or the bathroom. And I may find way to many reasons to talk to Kae the manager about work place issues. Because HE sits just a few yards from her office. Perhaps he will hear me and think that I sound intelligent and that I care about our work place. And maaaybe I have been choosing the vegetarian alternative just a bit more often lately because he usually goes with that. Okay okay, I have a severe crush on my coworker. Sue me.

And he is 3… maybe he's a bit younger than me… But he is so damn cute. And he has that kind of smile that means "I haven’t given up on the world yet." And he has pun mugs, one with the text "espresso yourself" and another with "Love you a latte". And I have seen him at the gym wearing a my little pony t-shirt without shame. 

Few men can wear that tee and make it work. I bet that Richard Ayoade could do it.

He has begun to grow a five o clock shade, He looks a bit like Richard Ayoade but without glasses.

AND he's single. (Yes, I have tried poly. I'm all for it, but it wasn't my thing. Sorry Kae.)

As you may have understood I haven't exactly gotten around to talk to him, we only share workspace. 

But I have a plan. You know what the call me? Stan the coffee man.

My name isn't really stan, but it's close enough and I can accept that nick cause it rhymes and it's pretty fun.

And they don't call me that because I'm the one the force to bring everyone coffee, don't worry, it's not that kind of story. It's like this, I have my workplace close to the coffee machines. Yes, there is more than one.

And I am the master of them all.

The one on the left is the new one. It can produce 10 different varieties of coffee, all of them without any resemblance to the name that stands on the button. But the correct number of espressos with a touch of hot water is close to real coffee.

The one on the right has only three options.

Large coffee, small coffee and hot water.

The hot water is the product that is the best, however, that coffee is a 7 on the Catrina scale so it kinda works. With lots of milk. lots.

Then there's the one in the middle. The scrooge of coffee machines. What that one produces is nothing like coffee. It's hot and it's burnt and its dark, and if you call that coffee I call you a racist. 

And that's not all the bullshit it brings you. The tray where you put your cup is loose and if you don't place the cup in the exact position, you end up with everything on your pants, and that is if you're lucky.

Who do you think knows when to remove your cup before the small coffee accidentally becomes a large one?

Who has the knowledge how many espressos you mix to get one good cup?

 Who knows exactly where that position is on Scrooge?

You guessed it, Stan the coffee man.

I have made it my task to help newcomers. And boy, do they need it… I take their hand and lead them through our coffee breaks, making sure they don't die and stay focused. I teach them how and when to press or which signs to look for before the hot water tap turns your mug into a geysir. To name only two of my special skills. I take great pride in my work and I am good at it, if I may say so. But, with great power comes great responsibility. I  neve refused to help anyone. Not even Boss Angie's wife who is an absolute brat and not worthy of our boss's love, even to her, I lend my expertise. 

Except for one. I refuse to help Sloane. I sit in silence as he puts his punny mug on lefty, pushes one Button to few and make a face as he drinks it. I bite my lip as I watch him go to righty and removes the cup to late, I have to hold back my emotions every time I see his face scrunch up but I must not give in. Why, you ask? A bitter reminded that I can’t have nice things? A silent reprimand to him not reciprocating my feelings? Oh, far from it. I am waiting, you see.

He is smart. And intelligent. And sooo good looking and.

Ehrm.

Point is, he kinda knows lefty. And has a bit of knowledge about righty. So he gets his coffee there. 

But.

One day he will have to try scrooge. One day lefty will be self-cleaning, at the same time as Janitor refills right. And I know what will happen. The tray will fall althouhj he will catch his cup before it breaks against the floor because that's the guy he is. Or maybe he has the right touch, and he will manage to push "coffee", but then he will put his cup to his lips and go "What the hell IS THIS?" Just like everyone else. 

And then I will be there. I will be Swift. I will be helpful. I will be extremely untoxic and absolutely not mansplaining, I will be my best self. I will be "Yeah, scrooge here needs a bit of special handling. And even then, he can’t really produce good coffee. None of these machines can. But if you like coffee, I know this little place just around the corner? I can show you? Perhaps at lunch?"

It's a long shot. But if the stars are aligned right… Stan the coffee man will get all the right Buttons pressed.

And it will be just the right taste and very hot. A 18 on the catrina scale, minor