#Are these two idiots going to be the last ones??

[hanniebaeee]

Neon Heat

Felix x fem!reader

Warnings : drinking, making out MDNI

Genre: strangers to lovers, fluff, suggestive

Summary: You are at the pub with your friends, and you're confused by the signs on the bathroom doors. But a sexy stranger helps you out, and then you go on to become more than strangers.

Ok, so this is a problem.

Your bladder is so close to bursting, the two beers you had with your friends demanding an immediate release. You don't understand how your friends have already started on the third one already. 

But now staring at the bathroom doors, you are trying to comprehend which is which. Obviously you've seen those signs before - in your biology textbooks.

But seeing it on bathroom doors? You're confused. And being tipsy isn't helping your situation either. 

One had a circle-and-line (♀️) symbol and the other had some kind of arrow sticking up (♂️).

Which was which?

Your brain tries to connect the dots through the haze of your tipsy buzz. Circle… arrow… wait, what? Who thought this was a good idea? You tilt your head, narrowing your eyes as if staring harder would magically give you clarity.

“Need some help there, love?”

The voice startles you, deep and smooth with a hint of teasing. 

You turn to see the owner of the said voice. He's tall and leaning casually against the wall with his dark hair framing his face neatly. He was dressed in all black - looking way too classy and sexy to be standing here with you. 

His brown eyes sparkle like he knows exactly what kind of effect he is having on you. And even under the dim lighting of the rest area, you can see a dusting of freckles over his skin. And it made him look even more hot somehow. 

You blink, momentarily forgetting how to function as a human being.

“Uh - what?” you stammer, trying not to look as affected as you feel.

He grins and says, “The one with the arrow sticking up? That’s the men’s room. Think of it as a…you know...easier to remember.”

His eyebrows raise suggestively as he point upwards, and then he winks.

He winks.

You blush instantly, and you could feel the heat creeping down your neck.

“Oh. Right. Arrow. Up. Got it.” You nod like an idiot, still staring at him like he’d just descended from the heavens. “Thanks for that. Um.. I gotta-”

“Of course, glad to be of help,” He says, and you bolt into the right bathroom, internally screaming because that did not just happen!!

By the time you calm yourself (and your bladder) down and get back to your table, your friends immediately notice your flustered state.

“What happened?” Jennie asks, eyes sparkling with curiosity.

“Are you ok?” Jisoo adds, leaning in conspiratorially.

You take a sip of your drink, trying to play it cool as you tell them you're just tispy. Of course the playing cool part doesn't last long because Mr. Freckles was sitting at a table right across from yours, laughing with some other (hot) guys. 

You look away quickly, and try not to glance his way after that. Also failing, because the next time you do, he's already looking at you.

Oh yes, he is. 

The night rolls on, your friends chatting and laughing, but you are only half-listening now. Because his gaze is searing, heavy with intent, and you could feel it in your core.

He looks ethereal under the neon lights and honestly, it was starting to get to you now.

At one point, he leans back in his chair, stretching lazily, and tilts his head toward the exit.

The message was clear: Meet me outside. You watch as he stands up, and walks out, your eyes following him all the way to the exit. 

Your pulse skyrockets. Is this really happening?

This isn't something you do. You don't like casual relationships or hook ups. Hell, you didn't even know his name. But there was something about him that made you want to follow him out. 

Ok, so if this is how you die, then what a pity, because you are already on your feet. 

The girls look up at you, and Jisoo, the always the sharpest says, “If you're going home with him, I'm gonna be so mad.”

“Oh my God! I won't!” You hiss, cheeks heating up. 

“Don't have too much fun!!” Jennie sings as as you make a beeline for the exit. 

The cool night air hits your face as you step out into the dimly lit garden behind the pub. It is quiet except for the muffled bass of music thumping from inside. You barely have time to wonder where he is when you spot him. 

“Thought you might leave me hanging.”  

Bathed in the soft glow of fairy lights, he looks gorgeous. His hands are shoved into his pockets, his posture relaxed, but the intensity in his eyes was anything but relaxed. It doesn't look like he is here to play around.

“I wasn’t sure if you were-” you admit, your voice quieter than you intended. “I don't do one night stands or hookups or whatever.”

“Oh, I wasn't looking for one.” He steps closer, his smile returning. “You’ve been driving me insane all night. So I wanted to know if it was just me, or if you felt it too.”

Your breath hitches as he closes the distance between you.  

“What exactly did you have in mind?” you asked, trying to sound confident (your body is betraying you in more ways than you can count right now).

“I would take you out first. You know, buy you some flowers, take you out to dinner. Talk. If you're interested, of course.”

“Oh.” Loss of vocabulary - you couldn't think of a sentence to say. 

He reaches out, his fingers brushing against yours, sending a jolt of electricity up your arm.

“In our case, I think we'll have to shuffle it up a bit…” He says, before his lips meet yours soft yet firm, and yes. You're gone. Completely. 

His hand cups your jaw, tilting your face up as he deepened the kiss. You can’t help the soft moan that escapes your lips as his tongue teases yours. 

And he responds with a low hum that vibrates against your mouth. 

The kiss turns heated quickly, his hands sliding down to grip your waist and pull you flush against him. Your fingers tangle in his hair, earning a groan from him that sends a shiver down your spine. 

“God,” he murmurs against your lips, his voice thick with desire. “You’re going to be the death of me.”  

“You started it,” you tease, your voice breathless as you nipped at his bottom lip.  

He chuckles, but it quickly turns into a sharp intake of breath as you tug him closer. His hands slip down the curve of your hips, and he presses you gently against the brick wall of the pub. 

“What's your name, sweetheart?” he whispers, his lips trailing down your jaw to your neck, leaving open-mouthed kisses that have your knees buckling. 

“Y/N,” you say, pulling him back up to your lips. “And yours?”

“Felix,”  

You lost track of time as the two of you melted into each other, the kisses getting more heated, and the feeling of his hands on your body getting more familiar.

Eventually you both pull back, panting and disheveled, and exchange soft smiles.

“So, about that dinner… does tomorrow sound good? I don't want to wait…” Felix asks, moving a strand of hair off your face.

You nod happily, and say, “Sounds perfect.”

“Good. I'll pick you up at 7?” 

“Ok,”

“And come prepared? ‘Cos I'm taking you home,” He says, his teasing grin back on again. “Maybe teach you a little about the signs…”

“Oh my God, Felix!” You laugh, and he laughs with you. 

After exchanging numbers, and one kiss too many, you two walk back to your own tables where your respective friends tease you endlessly for this. 

Jennie and Jisoo are on you for the juicy details and you give in, dying of happiness and also embarrassment - because honestly, this isn't how you pictured finding love.

As the boys start getting ready to leave, Felix glances at you, and you smile. That seems to have snapped something in him because he comes over to press a quick kiss to your cheek (making the boys go feral with laughter), and your own friends watched in amusement as you both said your goodbyes. 

“See you tomorrow,” Felix whispers. 

“See you,” You say, and watch him leave. 

And you squeal in joy making Jennie and Jisoo laugh. Because this feels great. 

Like it's meant to be. 

Divider - @saradika-graphics

Tags: @moonchild9350 @velvetmoonlght @eastjonowhere @pixie-felix @sailor--sun @satosugu4l

[unabletonotlovesatoru]

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ teddy’s notes: long awaited part two!! im so happy with how people are enjoying my stuff its so nicee <33 thank you all so much! i hope you enjoy this too :) also pls dont ask for visuals for this i really am not in the mood to look for something this obscure through twitter porn accs.

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ contains: mind that this is timeskip! bakugou as mentioned in part 1. nsfw! reader is still gender neutral and wears a suit, bakugou still has a praise kink, handjobs(m receiving), kissing, praising, also maybe a little bit of exhibitionism but honestly not really.

read part 1 here!

the next time bakugou sees you is when he's attending the annual hero gala.

he wasn't too eager to go, honestly, but his manager basically forced him because he needed to get on people's good side, and nothing works better than his fans getting excited over new pictures and all. katsuki is looking especially good tonight, he knows: a three piece suit that he decorated with the same jewellery set he wore on the photoshoot with you.

it was a gift from the brand: a set of gold earrings with red rubies that he was photographed in first, a simple clean gold necklace and a set of extravagant and quite flashy rings for all of his fingers which he liked a lot. and that damned box of jewellery hasn't moved from its spot in the first drawer of his bedside table until tonight.

he doesn't spot you at first though.

it's only when the flash of a camera blinds him when he is turning around that bakugou is made aware of your presence.

that soft, almost lazy curl of your lips, calmness and curiosity of your attentive gaze and the signature camera in your hands as you scan his figure up and down - bakugou's heartbeat involuntarily quickens, his hand gripping a flute of awful tasting champagne nearly breaking in his hold. he straightens his back immediately, his face wearing its usual scowl.

"you look handsome, bakugou-san." you say, clicking another picture of him before you wander off somewhere else, cutting off any possible further interaction.

putting away the drink in his hand, bakugou races after you yet you're already mixed in the big crowd that appears out of nowhere. it doesn't help that the classic suit you're wearing is identical to everyone's around this big ass venue. and kirishima drags him back to their tables, urging him into joining a useless conversation, while bakugou insistently keeps looking back, looking for you.

katsuki feels electricity running through his whole body when his gaze locks with yours from across the room. it's a brief moment that lasts two seconds yet it's enough to make him go crazy, promising himself to catch you later and say something.

throughout the evening, bakugou occasionally glances around the ballroom, catching the sight of you taking pictures. an easygoing smile present on your relaxed face as you nod and respectfully bow in front of every hero you meet, timidly introducing yourself and asking if you can capture the beautiful moment they are having.

he's watched you be surrounded by an overly excited mina and ochako, with yaoyorozu and jirou peeking behind you as they all looked through the pictures you just took, leaning in close and comfortably, which made you visibly flustered. soon kirishima and denki joined them, tugging shouto and izuku along so you could work your magic on them too, and bakugou felt a pang of something unfamiliar in his chest when you smiled back at the red haired idiot, your beam bright enough to match his.

he looks away solemnly before making his way out of the ballroom, hands deep in his pockets and his face set into a permanent scowl. as he gets ready to leave the venue, you seem to appear out of nowhere — bakugou catches your figure disappearing behind one of the fancy doors in the lobby he is standing in and without a second thought, he is moving after you.

the library is cloaked in silence. it’s dark and unwelcoming, but bakugou’s eyes only focus on you — leaning against the bookshelves as you stare back at him, waiting. your camera is absent, surprisingly, and your small, knowing smile lures him in as he steps closer and pushes the door behind himself, watching the soft light disappear.

“your manager invited me to come here, y’know? as his plus one.” bakugou’s body tenses before he realises that his manager wasn’t present tonight, something about ‘sore throat’ and whatnot. but the mere thought of him being brave enough to ask you to go as his date? even though you clearly declined his offer it doesn’t change the fact that the boy had more balls than him and it makes him fucking furious.

“that little shit,” he growls under his breath, already structuring a fitting punishment for his manager, but the sound of your melodic laughter pulls him out of his thoughts.

“could you come closer?” you offer him your hand, a serene smile on your face.

bakugou obeys.

he leans closer to you, the scent of worn paper mingling with the faint trace of your perfume. his breath hitches as your fingertips graze his wrist, a whisper of contact that sends a tremor down his spine.

your gaze locks with his, eyes smoldering with an unspoken promise. with you pressed between him and the cool, ridged bookshelves, he feels as if the world shrunk until it was only him and you. he yearns for your touch, his chest tightening with an almost desperate ache as he brings your hand to his own, guiding your hand to rest on his body.

it lingers on his torso only for a little bit, skilfully opening the buttons of his jacket, his vest, the bottom buttons of his shirt, and finally slides down to his crotch, cupping him through his pants.

oh fuck, he’s been dreaming of this.

it’s too dark to see anything, but a sliver of light is reflected on your pretty face, allowing katsuki to see your mesmerised expression — your brows raised in interest, your eyes glimmering in fascination and lips parted in surprise, puffs of air mixing with his exhales. he goes to hide his face in your neck, feeling too vulnerable under your attention, but your other hand quickly grips his jaw, effectively stopping him from moving, and bakugou is ready to blow his load then and there.

“no no,” you mutter, tilting his face down, “don’t hide from me. not when you look so pretty.”

katsuki suppresses a needy groan, but you stroke him faster, sliding the soft palm of your hand over his tip over and over again, until he twitches violently and you resume your previous movements. your hand is better than he imagined: it’s so pleasantly cool against the burning skin of his flushed cock, it’s enough to capture all of it in a tight fist and it’s making him see stars he hasn’t seen ever since he first jerked himself off.

“that’s it,” you muse idly, leaning in to press a kiss against his jaw, “you’re doing so good, angel.”

katsuki shudders and glances down at where you’re touching him, exhaling shakily as he burns the sight into his mind, willing himself to keep it forever. you continue planting soft kisses on his face; moving from his chin to his cheek, licking the salty skin of it as if savouring the taste and pecking the corner of his lips so fucking innocently that bakugou nearly loses his mind. one of his hands moves from the shelf behind you and cups the back of your head, moulding his mouth against yours because it’s too much.

your mouth detaches from his momentarily, “i never stopped thinking about you, y,know?”

he’s close, he’s so fucking close, and your words only bring him closer. katsuki can’t stop his hips from bucking into your hands, slotting his mouth over yours again to conceal his sinful grunts and moans that threaten to turn into pathetic whines if he doesn’t let go right now. your nimble fingers weave through his hair, grabbing harshly despite your overall soft demeanour, and it’s enough to make him cum: with his hips jerking forward erratically and choked whines leaving his throat as you continue gliding your hand up and down, with your own rhythm that doesn’t match his at all, but feels so fucking good katsuki’s knees turn into jelly.

“you’re so good for me, katsuki.” you purr into his ear as he pants, unable to catch his breath and stares down at you with a gaze so fucked out it makes your expression turn fascinated once again, “so perfect.”

you kiss his neck, pecking almost chastely as you grab the small handkerchief from his suit’s pocket and clean off the mess from your fingers and his cock before tucking him back into his slacks, and katsuki’s never been more grateful because he doesn’t know if he could’ve done it so easily himself. not after what happened.

after bakugou’s breathing steadies, there is a familiar silence settling between you two, one that you disturb with your hands gripping his shoulders and eyes boring into his soul.

“i don’t know if someone’s already called you their muse,” you murmur softly, the earnestness of your gaze pulling him in, “but i would like to make you mine.”

fuck yes, he thinks and kisses you again.

[xhazzz]

Jake “Hangman” Seresin x Reader

Strawberry-grilled cheese

warnings: make out, kissing, nudity (not explicit smut), coursing

summary: first night together

a/n: ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRST LENGUAGE so feel free to correct me if there’s anything wrong :)

masterlist || request’s are open

READER’S POV:

The past few weeks had felt like a dream. Jake and I had been seeing each other almost every day—going to the movies, having dinner at home, spending Friday nights at The Hard Deck with the gang, and even sneaking in visits to the base when I brought lunch to my dad. Nat teased us constantly, saying we looked like a high school romance.

“So, are you finally going to spill the tea?” my friend asked, raising an eyebrow. We were chatting comfortably on one of the bar’s couches while the guys were betting on who could beat Hangman at darts. “Is Hangman as good in bed as he brags?”

“God, Phoenix,” I laughed, blushing. “We haven’t even slept together…”

“What?!” she laughed, clearly shocked. “Respect, girl. You’ve got Hangman eating out of the palm of your hand, and he’s completely celibate.”

“Stop,” I rolled my eyes and grabbed a fry from the table. “It’s not like we don’t want to, but we always get interrupted. Last Friday, I almost stripped in front of Coyote.”

“Wasn’t he supposed to be on a date with the girl from the control tower?”

“He was supposed to be,” I sighed, glancing at my boyfriend as he grabbed another round of beers from the bar. “Luckily, Jake managed to cover me with his uniform.”

“Damn, girl…” Nat chuckled.

“Freakin’ Hangman,” Rooster said as he joined us with our drinks. “The idiot made me lose fifty bucks.”

“It’s not my fault you suck, Bradshaw,” Jake shot back, sliding into the seat next to me and draping his arm over my shoulders. “I told you I’m the best there is, didn’t I, Y/N?”

“Oh, you wish, babe,” I laughed, playfully hitting his chest. “You definitely need an ego check.”

Bradley and Nat booed him, laughing, while Jake pretended to be offended.

“What I need is a quiet night with my girl, without any interruptions,” Jake murmured, leaning into my ear and kissing the top of my head and then my chin.

“You two are disgusting,” Roo said, throwing a fry at Jake. “Get a room.”

“I think we will,” I said, settling into my seat and patting Jake’s leg.

“Hell yeah!” Jake exclaimed, jumping up and grabbing my hand to pull me along.

“Are you serious?” Nat asked, raising an eyebrow. “Right now?”

“Right now,” Jake said, grabbing his jacket. “Hey, Coyote, you’d better not come home tonight. I’ll change the locks if I have to.”

“All yours, man,” his friend replied with a wink, clearly occupied with the blonde sitting next to him.

I let go of Jake’s hand for a moment and walked over to Penny at the bar.

“Penny, can you put it all on Rooster’s tab?” I grinned. This was payback for getting free drinks all week in exchange for my number.

“You got it, sweetheart,” she smiled, glancing at Jake and me. “If I see your dad, I’ll let him know not to wait up.”

—————————————————————————————————————————————

As soon as we got to Jake’s apartment, he pinned me against the door, cradling my face and kissing me like there was no tomorrow. Our lips fit together perfectly.

“Damn, you taste so good,” Jake murmured, barely pulling away. “You taste like strawberries.”

He began leaving soft kisses and gentle bites along my jaw and neck as I started unbuttoning his shirt, one button at a time.

“And you smell amazing, sweetheart,” he added, sliding his hands down my hips, squeezing my ass, and lifting me by the thighs so I could wrap my legs around his waist. “You smell like vanilla.”

I let out a laugh, wrapping my arms around his neck as he carried me to the bedroom. He gently laid me down on the bed and pulled back just enough to look at me. I finished unbuttoning his shirt, and Jake shrugged it off, tossing it somewhere in the room. His dog tags were the only thing left on his chest. I grabbed them, pulling him closer to kiss him again.

I slowly ran my hands down his toned abdomen while he kissed my neck again. His hands moved from my thighs to the hem of my shirt, slipping under it to touch me softly. His touch sent shivers through my body. His thumb grazed the edge of my bra before cupping my breasts in his hands, squeezing them lightly, making me moan.

My hands moved down to his belt buckle, and I quickly undid it as he pulled my shirt over my head.

“God, you’re beautiful,” he whispered, starting to undo my pants. Clothes disappeared in a matter of seconds, and the temperature in the room kept rising. The only sounds were our moans and soft murmurs.

Jake was leaning back against the headboard while I straddled his lap, my head tilted back from the pleasure he was giving me. His lips left wet kisses on my breasts, occasionally nipping at them, while his hands roamed my body. They traveled from my neck to my ass, giving it a playful slap as I picked up the pace.

“Damn it, Jake…” I moaned. “I’m close.”

“You feel so good, my love,” he replied, taking control and thrusting into me with more intensity. “You’re perfect, my beautiful girl.”

I moaned loudly as I climaxed, burying my face in the crook of his neck. A few moments later, Jake followed, holding me tightly with both arms as we caught our breath and let our heartbeats steady.

“I don’t know what you’ve done to me, woman,” he murmured, pressing a gentle kiss to my forehead and tracing soft patterns on my back with his fingertips. “But I’m crazy about you.”

We stayed like that for a few minutes, wrapped in each other’s arms, with him still inside me. I left a trail of kisses along his chin and neck before resting my head on his chest, closing my eyes and listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.

“As much as I love holding you like this, let me take care of you”, Jake said, lifting me slightly and pulling out carefully before laying me back on the bed and heading to the bathroom. His sheets smelled like his cologne. “Here you go, baby.”

Jake returned with a damp towel and gently cleaned my legs. When he was done, he pressed a kiss to my ankles.

“Do you want some water? Are you hungry?” he asked, sitting beside me.

“What I want is for you to lie down with me again,” I sighed, patting the spot next to me on the bed.

He wrapped his arm around me and pulled me close. We lay in comfortable silence as he ran his fingers through my hair, untangling it. We talked here and there, about trivial things, laughing and stealing kisses as if there were no tomorrow.

“Are you sure you don’t want to eat something?” Jake asked again. “I can make you a fantastic grilled cheese sandwich.”

“That sounds amazing,” I laughed, propping myself up on my elbow and kissing his lips softly.

We both got up. Jake slipped on a pair of boxers and grabbed a Naval Academy shirt for me. He picked up my panties from the floor and tossed them to me playfully.

“I like these,” he teased with a grin. “Maybe I’ll keep them.”

I rolled my eyes, laughing, and got up to put them on.

“I could leave them for you as a souvenir,” I teased, walking toward the door.

“I love that idea,” he said, following me and giving me a playful slap on the ass. “But don’t worry, sweetheart, I like the thought of you wearing them and me being the only one to take them off even more.”

[morcez]

content: Toji x reader, angst, comfort, fluff, age gap, emotional!reader x oldschool!Toji

Toji is NOT the apologetic type. Toji was raised in a different, older generation with a… nonwelcoming… household. Speaking about your feelings was not something Toji was used to. Toji’s the type of guy to say “I wasn’t allowed to have feelings back in my day.” Whatever the hell that means. You on the other hand are a shaken soda bottle full of emotions, ready to burst at any moment. This difference between you two causes a handful of messy disputes involving name-calling, yelling, and you crying 99.9% of the time. Toji had tried traditional approaches to apologizing, but he always ruined it by saying something smart ass, prolonging the fight. “I’m sorry yer' too sensitive to take my jokes.” “I’m sorry that yer' a big ol’ crybaby.”

Just because he’s terrible at apologizing, doesn’t mean he doesn’t feel guilty. He hates the thought of you sobbing alone in your shared bedroom, he hates that he’s the one who made you feel that way. He’s the one who should protect you, comfort you, not hurt you. Instead of apologizing, he found that acts of service work better for you both. He lets you cry your little heart out in the bedroom while he cleans the house, runs errands, buys your favorite snacks, and cooks your favorite meals. You stumble out of the bedroom a couple hours later. Your face reddened, puffy, and wet. Your eyelashes are soaked and harsh tear marks stain your cheeks. You head into the kitchen, seeing Toji scrubbing the counter, wearing the apron you got him on his last birthday. He spots you, a look of guilt painted all over his face even though he tries to hide it. He takes a hot plate of food out of the oven and places it on the table, signaling you to sit and eat. You sit down mumbling a “thank you.” Wiping salty tears from your face. “Yer’ still crying?!” He says shocked, feeling guilt drag his heart down to his ass when looking at your tear-stained face. “Mhm, this old man hurt my feelings.” You mumble under your breath with a small smirk on your lips. He rolls his eyes at you referring to him as an old man. “Old man?” He chuckles as he repeats you. “Well, that old man is an idiot and anything mean says to you is bullshit. Understand?” You nod at his words. He walks over to you and plants a kiss on the top of your head. “Now eat up, kay?” He can’t help but admire your beauty even though you’ve been crying for hours straight. He walks off to go run you a bath <3

there were no funny Toji headers so here's San, the closest thing.

It's almost 2 am and i have class tmrw, ill proof read tmrw... prolly not.

[jjscrybaby]

the birthday boy

daryl dixon x fem!reader | fluff | (cringe, cringe, cringe! i can’t help who i am😖basic gift ideas bc i couldn’t think of anything, kissing.)

︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶ ୨♡୧ ︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶

One thing you were you would never get back was knowing the date. You’d spent the last couple years in the dark, you had a brief idea of how many years had gone by but dates? Absolutely no clue. It was when you and your group got to Alexandria that you learnt they knew the date, they’d kept track; it wasn’t like they were out killing walkers and fighting for survival, so they had the time to do such a mundane thing.

You’d asked Daryl when his birthday was a long time ago, just after the farm fell and before you reached the prison. The two of you were on watch whilst everyone else slept — or at least tried to — and you wanted to know his zodiac sign. It was silly, but you wanted to talk about something that wasn’t the hell your lives had become. He’d muttered out ‘January 6th’, and then gone silent once again. You kept that information stored in the little Daryl section in your mind, and you hadn’t forgotten it.

“What’re you doin’?” Daryl muttered sleepily, waking up to you sitting on him with a wide grin on your face. He opened one eye, looking from you to the window. “The sun ain’t even fully risen. Better ‘ave a good reason to wake me up.”

“I do,” you murmured, leaning down to catch his lips with yours. He didn’t argue, his arms loosely wrapping around your waist as he kissed you back.

“You alrigh’?” He checked quietly. You definitely weren’t the early riser out of the pair of you, in the morning’s that he had to go on an early supply run and tried to wake you to say goodbye he’d usually be cursed at.

“Yeah,” you reassured softly, running your hand through his growing locks. “Happy birthday, handsome.”

His eyebrows furrowed in confusion, before he let out a soft huh. “Is that today?”

“Yes, it’s today you idiot,” you giggled, pecking his cheek. “Do you want your presents now or at the party?”

“What…” he muttered, eyes widening.

You snorted, swatting at his chest. “I’m kidding. There’s no party. But me and Carol are baking a cake and you can’t say no, I already had to talk them out of finding a birthday banner.”

“Mhm, appreciate it,” he smirked lazily, drawing circles into your thigh. “Can we go back to sleep now, darlin’? I appreciate the birthday wake up, but ‘m exhausted.”

“You don’t want your presents,” you pouted.

“Thought you were kiddin’?” He questioned, leaning on his elbows to sit up slightly.

“About the party, yeah. You really think that I wouldn’t get you presents? Have you met me?” You teased. He smiled softly at you, a quirk of a lip that you were sure no one else was ever on the receiving end of.

“Didn’t even kno’ it was my birthday, so I wasn’t expectin’ presents,” he muttered.

You rolled your eyes fondly, switching the bedside table lamp on before getting off of him to rush over to the closet. You pulled out a paper bag, handing it over to him. “I couldn’t find any wrapping paper,” you sheepishly explained.

“That’s alright,” he chuckled, reaching out for your hand. You sat down next to him as he sat up, looking between you and the bag. “You know you didn’t ‘ave to get me anythin’.”

“I wanted to,” you argued. “Now, open it, please. I’m getting impatient.”

He let out a quiet laugh, opening up the bag. First he pulled out a knife; it wasn’t new, or even very sharp — although he’d be able to sort that out — but there was something on the side of it. Both yours and his initials carved into the side. You knew that wasn’t really his thing, something so cheesy, but you wanted his gift to have meaning. It was difficult to find things for anyone’s birthday in an apocalypse, but Daryl? Well, that’s pretty much impossible.

“Thankyou, darlin’.” He ran his fingers over the messy carving you’d done, a fond look in his eyes. “I love it.” He leant in and pressed a peck to your lips, making your eyes twinkle.

“Really? I know it’s not much…” you said, about to go on a classic ramble.

“Stop. I love it, seriously. I ain’t ever— I’ve never gotten a birthday present before, ‘least not one that I can remember,” he admitted, squeezing your hand.

Tears brimmed in your eyes, but you kept the smile on your face. You hadn’t expected that Daryl had many fun birthday’s growing up, not with the family he had. Maybe Merle took him to a bar on his 21st to have his first legal drink, but that was probably it. You kissed the corner of his mouth, stroking his hair.

“Well, now that we’re not fighting for our lives constantly anymore, expect presents every year. Christmas, too,” you said softly.

“Wouldn’t expect anythin’ less from you,” he responded, caressing your cheek lovingly. He placed the knife on the bedside table, moving to switch the light off.

“What’re you doing?” You asked.

“Goin’ back to sleep?” He answered, looking back at you over his shoulder. “That alright with you?” He teased.

“But… you haven’t opened your other present,” you explained. There was something in your tone, nervousness, shyness, he wasn’t sure.

“Another one?” He looked at you in confusion.

“Don’t be dramatic, Dar. It’s not like I spent any money,” you giggled. You went behind you, opening the drawer and pulling out something. You held it in your hand, not letting him see. “It’s a bit stupid, but I wanted to give you this for awhile. Since you gave me mine, at least.”

You opened your palm and revealed the silver band, a shy smile on your face. Six months ago, Daryl had gone on a week long supply run and he’d returned home with a ring. It wasn’t like you could have a proper wedding, not like the one you used to dream about when you were younger, but you wanted to marry Daryl. You wanted to tell people he was your husband. So, of course, you’d cried your eyes out and said yes. Ever since you’d wanted him to have a ring, too. Your engagement ring would probably be your wedding one as well, it wasn’t like you could go shopping. If you were going to get married, both of you needed proof of the wedding.

It was silent, you stared at him waiting for some sort of reaction. Slowly, a smile made its way onto his face. “You ain’t gonna ask me?”

“What?”

“I ain’t acceptin’ a ring without a proposal,” he joked.

You giggled, moving to straddle his waist once again. “Daryl Dixon, will you marry me?”

“Mhm,” he hummed, cradling your cheek in his hand as he brought your face down to his. “‘Course I will, baby.”

His lips moved against yours, arms wrapping around your waist to tug you to lie down on top of him. You pulled away first, grabbing his hand to slip the ring onto his fingers.

“Wouldn’t want to spend my birthday’s with no one else.”

[ropebunnykant]

alright, we're on the third and FINAL part of me picking the boat scene to bits. you can find part one here and part two here

where we last left off, kant was going towards jumping in the water but he stopped and then we get this question from bison.

and the thing that gives me chills about this moment, aside from the absolute terror and pain on kant's face, is how softly bison asks this. almost like it's a genuine question. like he's offering help because kant is in a tough spot. but it's not a genuine question because he's trying to help - it's a threat. he's telling kant if he doesn't jump, bison will push him.

however, it's also quite an interesting question when you think about it in the context of love and their relationship. i talked a little bit about the setting choice in comparison to the fadel and style confrontation scene already, but lauren @sunsetsover once again had some wonderful additions which you can find here. basically, the difference in locations represents a lot of things, like openness and their intentions, but it also has to do with wants. bison wants love, has always wanted love, and he wants kant to prove to him that it wasn't all fake - even if right now he believes it was. so the question of if you want to jump or fall, it can also go back to how this all started for kant. he fell for bison, against every one of his intentions and instincts, he fell for him anyways. no matter how much he fought it, no matter how much he tried to stop it, he couldn't stop himself from falling for bison. but now, in a way, he's getting a chance to actually choose it. he's getting a chance to jump into love, to let himself die and prove to bison he did love him.

and he's going to, god he wants to do this one final thing for him, but he looks at the water and all he sees is himself, drowning as a child, crying out for his parents. and you can SEE IT in the last screenshot, you can see that kant is not THERE, he's not looking at the water in front of him, he's seeing the water from when he was a child and was drowning and it's HEARTBREAKING. you have to watch the scene yourself again and look at the sheer terror and heartbreak on his face in those few seconds because got it's just. it's so painful.

but bison doesn't know, or he doesn't care, and he wants kant to jump, so he yells at him, he shouts at him to do it. he's so angry and hurt and he needs to see kant do this.

so kant goes again, but he hesitates again and he looks at bison, like he's begging for him to change his mind. but it only takes a second for him to know, to realize he won't. that he will have to do this. that doesn't have any other choice. that this is the only way to prove himself and to try and make it up to bison, if he even can.

there's a moment of silent communication where bison nods his head towards the water to once again force kant to jump in.

so kant braces himself, pulls every ounce of courage he has left in him, and he climbs up, bison still yelling at him, and he jumps.

i'm gonna link you to a giftset the last few moments of the scene here that jay @kantpattanawat made because i think everything with bison in it is MUCH BETTER seen in motion and i also don't wanna run out of image space again sdkjsfdf

but kant jumps. terrified out of his mind, he jumps. for bison, for himself, because he thinks he deserves it, because he doesn't think he can save himself anyways. because at least this way he can show bison he chooses him. that he does love him. because bison threw his heart into the ocean and kant is going to sink to the bottom with it.

but bison didn't actually think he would. you can even see it on his face, right before kant jumps, that he's questioning if he actually will. and when he does, you can see the panic in his body language because holy shit kant actually jumped. and he shouts after him, like he's an idiot for it, and maybe kant is! but he did it for bison didn't he? because bison asked? and isn't that what bison's always wanted? someone that loves him enough to choose him, to listen to him?

so bison will jump in and he'll still make kant prove himself again, but i think this is the moment bison really forgives him. this is the moment he realizes kant was serious back in the hospital. that maybe it wasn't all lies. this is the moment their love story can really start.

[anonity]

across the hall - chapter 2

you all have anon to thank for this LMFAO i must have written the first part in a fever dream because i genuinely had no recollection of making this

anyways sorry for the wait + i hope this lives up to your expectations! 

WC: 1500ish

you jiggled your door handle again with the hope that it would open by sheer force of will. evidently, your telekinesis skills needed work, because it didn’t even seem to consider unlocking. 

with a huff, your forehead came to land against the wood of your door with a soft thud. after contemplating the helplessness of your situation, you fish your phone out of your pocket and stare holes into the delivered sitting under your text to alyssa. 

she was supposed to be home by the time you got back, so originally it was “no problem” if you left your key in the room. 20 minutes prior, though, she’d texted to inform you that she would not in fact be home because her tinder date had decided to move the time up.

you hope he's a catfisher. 

it wouldn’t have been such an inconvenience if you hadn't already spent your entire day at the library. now you were exhausted, and had no clue when you would finally get to sink into your shitty mattress.

the floor was looking more enticing by the minute, and you were about to resign to sleeping on it when a voice rang out behind you. 

“locked out?” 

your heart stopped. this could not be a more humbling experience. every star in the sky has aligned just to screw you over at 9:45pm on this friday night, and paige bueckers is an active participant in your downfall. 

she’s going to think you’re an idiot, but what are you going to do, lie? oh, no, i just thought the wall looked comfy.

“yeah,”  you answer, turning to face the woman you’ve been avoiding for the last week. the instant eye contact has you fumbling for words a little. “i, uhhh.. well my roommate – well i left my key.. my key is in the room and my roommate is not,” you finally finish.

you’re waiting for the floor to swallow you.

paige tilts her head, nose wrinkling a little as she smiles at you. she looks amused. “so, whats your plan? teleport?”

you hum, glancing sideways at the door. “it crossed my mind.”

she’s still smiling when she gestures towards her own door. “well, if you don’t wanna sit out here all night, my roommates out. no superpowers required.”

your eyes widen – you think you’ve misheard her. “your room?”

paige laughs this time, opening her door. “well one of us has a key, and it’s not you.”

you hesitate. is paige morally obligated to let you into her room now that you’ve dragged her into your disarrayed state? are you morally obligated to decline?

she must be a mindreader, because she steps to the side and nods her head at the door. “i promise i’m literally just gonna watch game reruns tonight. you can hang out as long as you want.”

you finally nod appreciatively. “yeah, okay, thanks paige.”

you slip past her, politely taking your shoes off at the door when she shuts it behind the two of you, a glint in her eye. “you a fan?”

you eye her suspiciously. “i’ve seen some games.”

“i just find it interesting you know my name–”

“oh my god,” you roll your eyes, the smile pulling at your lips betraying you. “maybe i should’ve just stayed in the hallway.”

“oh, because the vending machine is so much better than me.”

“it’s got food,” you mumble, moreso trying to get on her nerves than make a suggestion. she takes the bait anyways, looking mock-offended.

“i have food!” she immediately reaches for her mini fridge. if you weren’t already in such an unbelievable situation, your jaw would’ve dropped at the contents.

“paige, this hardly counts as food.” the “food” in question is reminiscent of a teenage boy's “gym fuel”.  “everything in there has to taste like cardboard.”

“i play D1 basketball!” she scoffs, like she can’t believe you would suggest her chocolate chip cookie dough quest bar might be unappetizing. “you have a lot of attitude for somebody who locked herself out of her room a week into moving in.”

you sit down on someone's bed, (you can’t really tell, because both walls are lined with basketball posters) and grin, leaning forward onto your knees. “okay, you’re right, i’m sorry. but i’m still going to pass on,” you wrinkle your nose in distaste, squinting at the fridge. “legendary foods cake?”

“for legendary players,” she shoots back. you must’ve sat in the wrong spot, because paige throws herself down opposite of you and pats the space next to her. “KK’s kinda weird about people bein’ on her stuff, so..” “are all basketball players this high maintenance?” 

paige hums. “just us, i think.” “thank god.”

you move despite paige’s scowl, pressing yourself close to the edge of the bed. silence apparently never lasts long with paige, because she immediately drawls out, “sooo,” and then continues, “what are you doing alone on a friday night?”

you roll your eyes. “waiting for my roommate to get home, apparently.”

“you guys together or sum?”

you laugh. “uh, no, she’s on a date tonight. hence the locking out.” paige hums, eyes trained on the TV. “just haven’t been invited to any good parties recently.”

“i don’t think there are any – ion’ even know where KK went tonight.”

“it’s still early in the year.”

your mind drifts. you hate small talk. paige gestures towards the TV, a celtics v. bulls game from years ago rolling. “can you play 2k?”

much better.

you argue for a minute over who gets to play as the lynxes (paige finally relents, saying something about being drafted somewhere cooler and then choosing the wings of all teams) and then the first match starts.

right off the bat, she was bragging over a 2-pointer. “this games over already, y/n, you can put the controller down.”

“yeah okay, keep that energy when i drop 20 on you.”

after a flashy dunk you were particularly proud of in the second quarter, you grinned at paige. “you want me to clip that for you? you can start a highlight reel for me.”

she rolled her eyes, leaning closer to the TV. “doesn’t matter how good you look doin’ it if it’s still only two points.” 

you falter only slightly at her how good you look. 

by the fourth quarter, you were embarrassingly down 8 points. the last 6 minutes had been rough – not because you were bad at the game (because you weren’t) but because in the excitement of one of her riskiest plays following through, paige had shoved your shoulder and shouted “boom!”. unfortunately, she hadn’t moved away after that, and you could practically feel the heat radiating from her body. 

it didn’t take long for her to call you out. “bro, why is your defense so bad? do i needa show you where the buttons are?” she reaches over, mockingly gesturing at your controller. you stiffen a little at the contact. jesus, pull it together.

“touching the player in real life is totally a technical foul in 2k.” you laugh out instead, tilting the controller away.   

thankfully oblivious to your hesitation, paige laughs incredulously. “okay, now you’re just making shit up.”

at 12:00am, your phone buzzes between the two of you. paige glances down first.

“is that your roommate?”

your heart sank. after two rounds of bickering over 2k, you were beginning to hope alyssa would be out late. she wasn’t, though, and her contact photo was now bright on your screen. 

you’d abandoned her playstation after paiges second win (you’d stubbornly pointed out that it was her job to be good at basketball) and paige had turned on love and basketball instead, calling it tragic that you hadn’t seen it. the end credits had been playing for a hot minute now though, and you were really out of excuses to not go back to your dorm.

“yeah, it is. apparently her date was super hot.”

paige smiles. “good.”

theres a beat of silence (something you’ve discovered is rare with paige), before you finally shift in the bed. “thanks for letting me crash.”

she jolts a little, watching you get up. “oh, yeah, no problem, anytime.”

before you reach the door, though, paige is up with you. “hol’ on,” she starts, thrusting her phone towards you. “well, actually,” she doubles back, bringing it back to herself. “um,” she starts again, eloquently, and you raise an eyebrow at her fumbling. “give me your number – in case you get locked out again.”

“i gotta get locked out for you to play 2k with me?”

“no!” paiges eyes widen and you decide to have a little mercy on her.

“relax, i’m just messing with you.”

she gives you a bone-dry laugh in response. “ha, ha. give me your number, f’real.”

thank god for hot tinder dates.

[bettystonewell]

What Happened Last Night? - Part 1

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: After burning the Book of the Damned and escaping the Styne’s, you all have a night of harmless celebrations back at the bunker. At least, it was harmless until Charlie suggested a game of Never Have I Ever, and the rest of your night became a blur. Friends to Lovers 18+ only

Word Count: 3,300

Warnings: Language, Dubious Consent (implied drunk sex), SMUT in part two

Or read it on AO3 here

A/N: Hey 👋 This is my first time posting a fanfic on Tumblr. The names’s Beth (Aussie/Dean-girl/tired mum). I’ve been on AO3 (and Wattpad) for over a year now and thought it was about time I put my big girl pants on and join the community here because it looks fun (though the social media side of this scares my close-to-midlife-crisis-ass). So, yeah, newbie in terms of everything here - please be kind. If you recognise me from the other sites, please say hi 😊 This is a cross post - there are two chapters total. Let’s see how this goes!

in vino, veritas

in wine, there is truth

Five bodies sat around the mess room table that night, drinking their troubles away and eating their fill. 

You, Dean, Sam, Charlie, and Cas at the end, sitting on a wooden chair he’d brought in from the library to make more space for those of you who did eat.

"This won't work," you said to the other four, though it was technically directed at Charlie. Your tone was as condescending as you could make it under the influence of the alcohol you’d already consumed. 

Three beers and two sneaky sips of Charlie’s Harvey Wallbanger you’d taken while she wasn’t looking.

It was one less ounce of bounce in her step for your at-the-time more than tipsy gal pal and well deserved. Especially now she’d revealed her true intentions on why she’d encouraged you to partake in drinking in the first place.

In her overly enthusiastic state, she’d suggested a game to get “The Party Started.” A phrase she’d attempted to sing in vain as only you seemed to understand its reference. 

Though Sam might have had a clue. His mouth had turned up around the lip of his bottle he’d conveniently sipped during the rendition of the Black Eyed Pea's early noughties banger.

Dean was one hundred per cent clueless, of course. Nothing past the eighties was decent to him. Nothing except that one Taylor Swift song you’d caught him listening to when he thought no one was watching. 

He had sulked then and had been sulking on and off again since last night. Brooding over the fact he’d lost his one chance to remove the mark. Unbeknownst that Sam had not burnt the Book of the Damned like he, Charlie and Cas thought, but in a better mood thanks to the booze and pizza he’d brought home.

You knew better.

Both about his demeanour and what had really happened with the ancient text. 

You’d seen Sam swap it with a replacement and you’d promised him you’d keep your mouth shut. Something you were hating your past self for.

Past you was a fucking idiot.

A fucking idiot who was about to get drunk from a game of Never Have I Ever like Charlie had suggested, and at risk of spilling more than one can of beans if you didn’t think of something fast to stop it. 

Charlie, the conniving little… She knew way too much about you after the last time you’d had a few with her and the glint in her eyes that you’d seen when she suggested the damn game was enough for you to know that what she was planning was dangerous.

A drunk man’s words are a sober man’s thoughts. Or something like that.  

And she was almost there. 

“What do you mean, it won’t work?” she said with far too loud a pitch that made even Cas uncomfortable. 

Well, more uncomfortable than normal.

“Umm. The angel, for starters.” You directed your gaze at Cas, realising too late that you were going to give him a complex. “I think most of our everyday human experiences are going to be a never for him. And whatever he did in heaven will be the same for us. It’s unbalanced.”

“You’re thinking too much. He’ll get drunk. We’ll get drunk. That’s the point of the game,” Charlie said.

But her grin left her when a gruff, “I won’t,” interjected itself into the conversation. 

Hah. Won’t. It was as if you’d sucked the happiness out of Charlie and taken it all for yourself to then rub it back in her face. “See. Cas doesn’t want to play. And Sam and Dean clearly don’t want to play either.” They'd said nothing against the suggestion and nothing against you now.

“Actually, you don’t have enough liquor here to get me drunk,” Cas added.

Don’t have enough… “Seriously?” You looked at him again and he nodded. An apologetic look on his face.

Which brought a ‘challenge accepted’ one into Charlie’s.

Looking around the room for support from the guys, you noticed Sam hiding a silent chuckle behind the bottle in his hand. 

While Dean, who had been quiet since Charlie had burst out in song, locked eyes with yours. “Well, if there aren’t any more arguments from you, sweetheart, let’s play.”

And you thought Cas’ claim that there wasn’t enough booze for him was a surprise.

Fuck. Your head was pounding.

Your mouth was drier than a desert with a chalky sensation in your throat and lips that felt like they had cracked. 

Yup. Cracked alright. They stung as you splayed your tongue over them, attempting to nourish the skin with what little wetness you had left in your mouth. A fat lot of good that did, though.

They weren’t the only part of your body feeling uncomfortable. Pins and needles from where you’d slept funny on your arm tingled from your funny bone to your wrist.

‘Ow. Fuck.’ Well, that hurt.

You were hung without a doubt, and just all over feeling seedy.

At least you’d slept some of the alcohol off and were no longer drunk. You thought.

The strands of hair that had made their way into your mouth and the saliva you strung along with it as you pulled it out would say otherwise. Urgh. Gross.

Had you been drooling? No wonder your throat was dry.

You groaned and forced your eyes open. Yes, you had. There was a wet patch on the white pillowcase below you.

Odd. You didn’t own white sheets. 

You’d decorated your room in the bunker with as much colour as you could. What with the hunting life full of black, brown, denim and blood, you didn’t need any of that spreading into your personal space. 

Of course, white was colour(ish), but again, you didn’t own white sheets, and your room didn’t have a solid wall where you were facing. Curiouser and curiouser. Your door was supposed to be right there. 

You were at the correct end of the bed for it. A headboard behind you and a pillow underneath you, meaning you were lying on the right side. Yet all you saw was more bricks, a tall boy in some kind of brown and clothes that weren’t yours scattered on the surrounding floor. 

Amongst them, a pair of jeans - okay, they might be yours. But the flannel? One plaid with various browns and greens. The very same Dean had been wearing last night?

Fuck.

Dean’s clothes. Dean’s room.

This was Dean’s room? 

This was Dean’s room. 

Fuck, fuck, fuckity fuck. 

What were you doing here? The last thing you remember was… Fuck.

Those lips. Dean’s lips, plump and whiskey-tainted, had peppered kisses on you in more than one place. Over your mouth, your cheek and your neck. Lower... 

You’d learnt the spot at the base of your ear above your lower jaw was quite sensitive. Dean had learnt that, too. He’d also learnt a few other things if your tainted memory served you correctly, and you, the same about him.

The way his muscles contracted around his chest and back. Every little ridge, taut and firm, continued even down his arm and into his hands. Those talented fingers had a way of placing pressure in just the right places to make you blush. They’d found their way under your shirt and bra and…

Oh… Oh…

Had you slept with him and not remembered the main event? Was that possible with Dean? Your friend. The guy you’d wanted to be more than for the longest of time.

You've fallen for him the day you’d met. With that charming smile and those dazzling green eyes. 

And that was before you’d gotten to know him.

Now you knew the man behind the shit-eating grin. The playful, sometimes scary nerd (who refused to admit it) was loyal to those he cared about. A self-righteous martyr, who could be a bit of a dick sometimes and followed it too when the time was appropriate. 

Not that he’d done it so much lately. 

Except, maybe now.

You were screwed and without asking him, there weren’t too many ways to check if indeed you had been by him.

You turned your head slowly to find an empty bed next to you. 

Thank fuck. There was plenty of time to ask, but his bed was not the place.

You stretched your legs out, noting they felt normal. Stiff if anything, but not in a way you’d expect if you’d partaken in good sex.

Of course, that meant nothing. Maybe the rumours you’d heard about Dean were untrue?

Yeah right. 

You’d seen the satisfied faces from all of his past hook-ups as they fled his motel room the next morning. Possibly one in every state. He had brought none of them to the bunker though, meaning you were the first to sleep in his room. In his bed.

Go you... That was something to be proud of, not. 

You’d hightailed it out of his room after all that. Slinking off down the hall to your own to get changed out of the clothes you’d been wearing the night before. You hadn’t been wearing them when you’d woken up, of course. Oh, no. You’d been wearing one of his henleys, braless underneath, and your underwear surprisingly still on. 

While you’d think that would be a comfort for you, you knew that meant nothing. Though everything felt normal down there, so maybe it did. 

You weren’t sticky when you had a shower, but you noticed the love bites above your breasts when you looked in the bathroom mirror after it. There were bruises on your hips too. Ones shaped like fingerprints that fingers had pressed into you on either side. 

Hmm.

There was only one way to find out what had happened and once you’d primed and prepped yourself, wearing clothes that covered you from your neck to your toes, you made your way to the same room where everything had gone down the night before.

Stupid Charlie and her stupid fucking game. 

“Hey, Charlie,” you greeted when she saw you enter. Her eyebrows raised, along with her grin. “Where’s everyone else?” 

In other words - Where’s Dean?

Only Charlie sat at the table. The rest of the room was clear. There were no more pizza boxes, no more alcohol bottles and no one in the kitchenette. Not even someone’s head in the fridge. 

Just Charlie, with the smell of bacon and freshly ground coffee lingering in the air around her.

Coffee. You needed some of that.

“Sam’s got his head in the books again. Can you believe he was up before eight?”

Actually, you could and you hummed in response as you took your fresh cup of steaming goodness up to your lips to sip.

“I think Cas has left the building. We may have gotten him drunker than we thought.” She smirked. “And I figured you knew where Dean was.”

Your mouth spluttered over the rim of your cup. Coffee now dripped down your shirt and a few of the drops had landed on the floor. 

You flicked your eyes to your friend as you placed the cup on the table opposite her. Towels. You needed towels.

“Don’t give me that look. I saw you two after I left. And I checked on you this morning when I first got up. You weren’t in your room,” she said.

There was a knowing look on her face as you made your way between the pantry and back again that you ignored. Stooping down low to wipe the spill you’d made on the tiled floor below, only joining her once you’d discarded the paper towel in the bin along with your dignity.

Your hands went straight back to your cup, sipping on the rim and avoiding Charlie’s prying eyes.

“Come on. Let me live vicariously. What happened between you two?”

“I don’t know,” you whispered.

“You don’t know? I set this all up for you and him and you don’t know?”

“Ssshhh.” Your shoulders slouched, and you reached across the table to grab her arm. “I don’t remember, okay? I woke up in his bed but…”

“Did you two?” She made a crude gesture with her hands.

“I. Don’t. Know.” Your eyes were open wide as you enunciated every syllable to get your point across. 

“How do you not know?” Charlie blinked a couple of times. 

Drawing in a long breath, your mouth agape and ready to sigh it all out, you looked back at your friend and trembled your head in a quick shake. “I remember fooling around a bit but I don’t remember much more than that.”

“So you just woke up in his bed and don’t know how you got there?” she asked.

“I mean, I know how I got in his room, I remember that much, I think, but I don’t remember lying down or, you know.” The look you gave her was enough. You didn’t need to elaborate and even if you had wanted to, a heavy thud of boots echoed through the corridor outside.

Sure, it was possibly Sam, but that distinct gap between steps could only have been made by one bow-legged Winchester. And when Charlie’s face lit up opposite you and you heard the sound abruptly stop from somewhere near the door, you knew it to be true.

“Morning Dean,” she said. The chirpiness in her voice made you want to slap her silly but as you only had access to the hand that still held yours in the moment, you dug your fingernails into the skin below them instead. “Ow. You want some breakfast? There’s bacon still in the pan.”

Dean grunted and you felt eyes boring into the back of your head.

You refused to look behind you to where you knew he was pouring his own coffee by the sounds of it and released Charlie’s hand to pick up your cup. You took slow sips, keeping both your mouth and the rest of your body occupied while your elbows rested on the table, defending yourself from Charlie and her quips.

“How did you sleep?” she asked this time. Her eyes flicked between you both.

Could she be any more obvious?

“Fine,” he grumbled. “You got any more questions, or are you gonna leave us in peace to sort our own shit out?” 

Fuck.

You looked over at Charlie with a pleading look that said ‘Please don’t go.’ My how things had changed. But she grinned back at you and wagged her eyes, before standing and leaving the room in haste. Damn traitor.

As her footsteps trailed off down the hall, the room grew uncomfortably silent. Making your sips the loudest thing to have ever existed in the world. 

Your coffee was more bitter than it had been and you needed sugar pronto if you ever wanted to finish it.

You brought your cup down and placed it on the table before you to let your fingers fidget over the thin porcelain. Paying attention to each sharp angle between the curves and painted decorations. More so than was ever necessary.

Your eyes fixated on it, even as Dean took Charlie’s place across from you, watching you with caution. “So,” he cleared his throat. “How’d you sleep?”

Seriously? Taking Charlie’s line was how he wanted to start this. Well alrighty then. “Um. Fine, I guess. You?” You braved a glance at him, noting he was more serious in his disposition than usual.

“Like a log,” he said before silence filled the room again.

Right. You weren’t sure what you should say next. There was that big question on your mind, but you wanted, no, needed to approach it carefully. You didn’t want him to know you didn’t remember what if anything had happened between you. 

Not for his ego, but for yours.

You took another glance at him and saw his tongue run along the inside of his cheek, making it stick out under the five o’clock shadow he was yet to get rid of. He always looked his best like that. 

“I uh, I was surprised you weren’t there when I came back to my room just now.”

Wait. He was? “You were?” 

“Yeah.” There was a defensive twang in his tone. It was subtle, but it was there. “I only went to take a shower and then I found you’d bolted… I thought…” He shook his head.

He thought. Thought what?

You looked him up and down. It wasn’t just his tone that was unusual. The way he held his shoulders and the way he gripped his coffee cup before him was odd. In anyone else, you’d say they were lacking in confidence, but Dean wasn’t like this.  

The last time you’d seen him in such a way was after he’d killed Randy and the thugs in Pontiac and had come home dishevelled and broken over what he’d done.

“What did you think?” you asked, stretching your arm out to brush his hand across the table. Hoping that by doing so it might relieve whatever tension he was feeling.

There was a warmth there, that spread under your fingertips as your skin touched his and brought flashbacks to your mind of you touching other places on his body. 

You’d seen him with his shirt off last night. Been up close and personal with his tattoo and the scars that adorned his chest. You’d felt the dip in his spine and the pressure of his waistband pressing into your thumbs when you’d hooked them under the denim that sat around his waist.

Had you gotten into those jeans last night?

“Last night,” he said, watching your hand with interest. “After what we talked about.”

What we talked about? You’d stayed up well into the night with him. Long after Sam and Charlie had gone to bed and Cas had disappeared to do whatever Cas does. But just like your memories of what took place in his room were drawing blank, so too were whatever words you’d exchanged with him. 

All you could see were the grins and smirks he threw your way, and you nodded your head to stall. It didn’t do you any favours. 

He was looking at you with a scrutinising gaze and just as your cheeks had burned when he found that spot under your ear, they did the exact same to you now and gave everything away. “You. You don’t remember? Do you?”

You bit your lip and shook your head. “I ah. I’m drawing blanks. Some of it, I remember, but I couldn’t tell you what we talked about after the others left. And…” You hesitated.

“What?” His eyes locked onto yours and while they made you nervous, you couldn’t pull away. 

“Dean. Did we…” 

He seemed almost disappointed. But rather than wait for you to finish your question, or answer it even though it was as obvious as Charlie had been, he stood up, scraping the chair along the floor as he did so to storm off.

‘What the fuck just happened?’

You had drunk a lot and been drunk because of it. You’d spent time with Dean alone after the others had gone to bed and had talked with him about something. 

Something that led you to his room and into his bed. 

There’d been action. Kisses and touches. A bit of groping and clothes being removed. Small flashes of that continued to form in your mind. But while marks had been left on your skin and you’d stayed the night in his bed, you couldn’t remember the physical act of him being inside of you. Or you giving him a happy ending either for that matter. 

And now, he was disappointed.

Could it be that he felt the same way you did? 

————————————————————Thank you for reading! I’ll try posting part two same time next week - or you can read it now on AO3 here. In the meantime, I’ll be trying to work this site out (and finishing my WIPs whose updates are overdue… 🙃

[achilles-rage]

Hii can I request 18) complicated sex with an ex from the smut list with buck

sorry this took a while, my mom wanted to watch the beetlejuice movies with me lol. but i'm back, and i'm gonna post a couple more before i go to bed!!

number 18 from this post: "complicated sex with an ex"

you remember the last time you saw evan.

you were both 19, and he had just told you that he was dropping out of college and running away from pennsylvania. you had been dating for almost a year, and even after you begged him to stay with you, to not leave you, he had told you that he had to.

with that, he was gone, and you hadn't seen, or heard from him, in 10 years.

until today.

you had recently moved to los angeles for work, and when your building was doing a routine fire drill, you saw the man that you were sure you'd never see again. one that had left you when you were 19 and had you questioning every relationship you've been in since.

"evan?"

your voice travels through the crowd and hits his ears, and his stomach drops.

he knows that voice. he knows it will too well. and, the last time he heard it, it was practically screaming at him, telling him that he was abandoning her, and that he didn't love her as much as she thought he did.

when his eyes meet yours, both of your expressions are the exact same; jaws slack, and the look in your eyes a mix between disbelief, joy, and a tinge of regret.

"what are you doing here?" he asks as he closes the distance between you two. he wants to reach out to you, to pull you into his arms and never let go, but he holds back. the last time you saw him, you were crying, and yelling, telling him that you hated him in the heat of the moment.

"i live here." you reply, your voice light and airy, as if you still don't believe that he's standing in front of you.

"me too." he tells you, a smile making its way onto his face as his eyes travel down your soft figure. you're still the same as 10 years ago, although you look older. he's missed your kind eyes, and you pretty smile, but he also misses your plush body, the one that he's been thinking of for years.

he's torn from his daze when he feels your palm hit his chest. it's not hard enough to hurt, especially with his gear on, and when his eyes meet yours again, he sees anger and hurt replacing the disbelief in your eyes.

"how could you?" you whisper-yell, still aware enough that you're surrounded by people.

he opens his mouth to speak, then closes it, then opens it again, but no words come out.

those years were some of the best of his life; he got to travel the world and meet so many people, but they were also the hardest. he knew you wouldn't go with him, and he didn't want you to either. he knew how important college was to you, and he didn't want to make you decide between him and your future.

as he looks down at you, head still spinning with both disbelief and relief that you're finally back, all he can say is "do you wanna go out with me?"

"what?" you ask, brows furrowed and a slight frown on your face. this is the first time you've seen him in how long, and he's asking you out?

"please let me make it up to you. i was a fucking idiot- i still am. please let me take you out." he pleads. he knows you've never been able to say no to his puppy-dog eyes.

"okay." you say with a sigh. at the very least, you’ll get the chance to tell him how he made you feel.

evan, who you've since learned goes by buck now, is still as charismatic as ever, and by the end of the night, you felt yourself, against your better judgement, forgiving him for everything.

it’s how he get you here; in his apartment, in his bed, completely bare and pinned down under him.

his thrusts are slow and deep, and you can feel his hot breath on your ear as he moans lowly into your ear. he was good at sex when you were dating, but you catch yourself thinking about how the hell he got so good since then. he’s hitting that spot inside of you that has you seeing stars, and it’s making your back arch and your eyes roll back in pure ecstasy.

“fuck, i’ve missed you so much, baby.” he rasps in your ear before bringing his lips to yours, kissing you so passionately that your head spins.

all you can do is moan in response, gripping his shoulders tightly as you feel yourself clenching around him. when he parts from the kiss, he looks down into your eyes as he trails one hand down to your cunt, fingers finding your clit and rubbing lazy circles around it.

you whimper loudly, tightening your legs around his hips, and as you get dangerously close to the edge, all the doubt you had of him disappears.

he makes sure you both cum at the same time, and he holds your head in place so he can look into your eyes, groaning as he shoots his seed into your cunt. he continues his movements for a few more sloppy thrusts, letting you both ride out your highs, then kisses you deeply, savouring the feeling of you back in his bed again.

he buries his face in the crook of your neck as you both catch your breath, and as you stare up at the ceiling and listen to the steady sound of his breathing, you feel tears form in your eyes. you’ve been thinking about evan for years, and you were angry for so long, and now you feel an odd feeling between shame and relief that you’re back with him.

he left you, and you fell into his bed so quickly. all it took was one dinner and a few apologies. you remember telling yourself years ago that you’d never forgive him; that he had broken your heart and doesn’t deserve a second chance.

“woah, hey, are you okay?” you hear him ask when he finally pulls back from your neck and looks down at you. he can see the tears in your eyes, and the small frown gracing your lips, and his heart shatters.

“please don’t leave me again.” you whisper, a few tears finally falling down your cheek as you look into his eyes. you can feel your throat tighten as you fight back a sob, and you blink slowly, trying to blink away the tears threatening to follow the first few.

he sighs at your words, bringing one hand up to cup your cheek. he gives you a sad smile as you lean into his touch, and then he leans down and presses a soft kiss to your forehead.

“oh, baby. i wouldn’t dream of it.” he reassures you, and he means it. he never wants to be away from you ever again.

[eighthchair]

Bracelets, a Fields of Mistria Fanfic

March x Gender Neutral Farmer

Based on this bit of dialogue

Gods, this is so fucking stupid.

March stood on the first step of the farmers house fidgeting with the small box he held in his hands. In all honesty, he doesn’t full know why he’s here in the first place.

Well, he knows why he’s here, he just doesn’t know why he chose to do this specifically. He doesn’t know why he chose to make something for them of all people.

From the very moment that overly-cheerful, disgustingly optimistic…

pretty, confident, hardworking—

… pain in his ass farmer moved to Mistria, they have gotten on his last nerve.

They never know when to quit. Almost everyday without fail, the farmer would bother him. Stopping by the shop to say hi or using his forge to make bars and armor, it was infuriating. The days that they left him alone were…

Lonely, empty, unsettling—

… a blessing.

And then once they started venturing into the mines, the gifting started. It was only a few nice pieces of ore here and there, which he appreciated. But then it turned into whole ingots at least once a week. They even found him a piece of Meteorite for him to experiment with! Honestly, if that brain dead idiot thought that they could win him over with shiny pieces of metal, they’re stupider than he thought.

But then...

“March!” The farmer came barreling into his workshop, covered in dirt and debris, “March, you’ll never believe what I found!”

March stood from his workbench and rolled his eyes, before turning around and stretching a bit, “Can’t you see I’m busy Farmer? What could be so important?”

The farmer deflated a bit and pouted, “Come on, it’s really cool! I think you’re going to love it.”

March just scoffed, “If it’s another ingot you smithed up, I can make some that are ten times better ya know.”

They shook their head and approached him, “It’s better than anything I could have done, that’s for sure, but I found it just now in the mines.”

“Yeah, I can tell,” March said, looking up and down at their dirtied figure, “Would it kill you to wash up before coming in here, you’re trailing in dirt.”

“Sorry, I just couldn’t wait to show you!” Their hands were still behind their back, clearly hiding whatever it was they wanted to give him this time.

“Well then stop wasting time and show me!”

Their smile got impossibly larger as they brought their hands to the front of them. The item was still a bit dusty from being excavated, but the shine and luster of it was undeniable.

“No way,” March’s jaw dropped, “Is that—”

“A perfect copper ore!” The farmer exclaimed, jumping up and down in excitement, “I didn’t even know ore could be so perfect, but just look at it!”

March grabbed the ore from the farmers hand and studied it closely, the structure of it is almost crystalline and it’s denser than any piece of copper he’s ever held before, plus if he shines it up a bit, he can almost see his own shocked expression looking back at him.

“Incredible,” he whispered to himself, still staring at the chuck of metal in awe.

“Isn’t it?” The farmers voice broke him out of his reverie, “I thought you’d really appreciate having something as nice as this.”

March’s head snapped up to look at the farmer, their face sporting a small smile while they watched him admire the ore.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, I found two today and the first one went to the museum and I don’t have any idea what to do with this one so…”

“You can’t be serious.”

The farmer tilted their head in confusion, “Why not?”

March sputtered and pushed the ore back into their hands, “What do you mean ‘why not?’ This is much too nice to just give away!”

“Well it’s not like I’m just going to put it in my shipping bin and let Balor sell it to whoever will pay the highest price for it. Plus, you’d be able to do much more with it than any other blacksmith that could buy it.”

“But—”

The farmer placed the ore on his workbench, “No buts, it’s yours now.”

He spent the next day staring at the metal and contemplating what to do with it.

I mean, with something so naturally perfect the possibilities were endless! He could forge a beautiful sword or a glistening shield to display in his workshop to show just how impressive his work is. He could make a new set of tools for Ryis that would last him forever. He could make Reina new cooking utensils to go with the newly renovated inn.

Or he could make something just for them.

It took days to get it just right, one just to sketch out and plan the design, another to make a few test pieces with other, more dull pieces of copper to ensure that everything went smoothly, and nearly three days were spent delicately curving and carving the metal into something beautiful and intricate.

March has no idea why he did it, but he did and now he’s standing on their front porch like a moron wondering if he’s made the right choice or if he should just run back to his workshop while he still can.

“March?”

A voice from behind him causes him to nearly jump out of his skin, he turned around slowly and came face to face with the person who’s been living in his head for the past few weeks.

“What are you doing here?” The farmer asked, their flannel tied around their waist instead of around their shoulders, their well defined figure on display, “I mean, I’m happy to see you of course, but I don’t think I’ve ever had you on my farm before.”

March coughed a bit, hoping that the blush he could feel creeping up his cheeks wasn’t noticeable, “No I’ve never been here before. I just…” His voice trailed off, what the hell was he supposed to say!

The farmer climbed the steps to stand next to him, “Well, do you want to come inside? It’s a bit warm out here, don’t you think?”

March just nodded, not completely trusting himself to speak, and the farmer waved at him to follow them in.

Their house was exactly what he expected it to be.

For such a small space, they sure did know how to make the most of it. Even with the bed, the couch, the kitchenette, a carpentry table, and more than a few chests, the house felt cozy and welcoming.

“Wow, you can really tell that you live here, Farmer.”

They just laughed while putting things from their backpack into their respective chests, “I’m going to take that as a compliment.”

March watched as they meticulously placed crafting materials, cooking ingredients, artifacts, and foraging items in specific places in each chest. Considering how incredibly busy they kept themself, it made sense that the root of that was a well organized storage system.

They finally finished their task and stood up straight to look at March once again, “Well, welcome to my home. It’s not much, but I’m working on it,” They laughed a bit and started walking towards their kitchenette, “Do you want a drink? I can put on a pot.”

“Oh, um, I’m not really a tea person.”

The farmer just smiled, “I know.”

Of course they knew.

“S-sure.”

The farmer gestured towards the couch, telling March to have a seat while they made refreshments.

The bright yellow couch was much comfier than March thought it would be and he found himself getting lost in thought again.

What the hell was he doing? All he came here to do was give the stupid farmer this stupid gift and leave without having to look at their stupid face for long, and now he’s sitting on their fucking couch. Maybe he should have just sent it in the mail.

The couch dipped next to him, alerting him to the farmers presence. They held out a mug for him to grab and he could smell the mixture of chocolate and coffee coming from it.

“Oh, you remembered.”

They laughed, “Of course I did, it’s not a hard thing to remember anyways.”

They both took a sip and March had to stop himself from groaning, it was delicious. How the fuck are they so good at everything?

“So, what brings you to my humble abode?”

Oh right their stupid gift.

March looked at them, their eyes peeking at him over their coffee mug, shining and curious.

“Well, um…”

Fuck this is harder than he thought it would be. His mouth opened and closed a few times while he tried to find the right words to say to them.

They waited patiently for him to gather his thoughts, sipping away at their drink.

March cleared his throat before he started talking, “Well, since you’ve moved to town you’ve been…”

A huge help to the community—

“… more competent than I expected you to be.”

They chucked a bit, “Thank you, that is certainly high praise coming from you.”

“Don’t let it go to your head, Farmer.”

The soft smile they gave him almost left him breathless.

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”

He shifted slightly away from them before continuing, “And, you’ve been, well… y’know… giving me gifts and shit so I wanted to…”

Give you something in return, to tell you how much I appreciate them, how much I appreciate you—

“… make sure you don’t think I owe you anything.”

“They're called gifts March, you’re not supposed to pay me back,” they said with an eyeroll.

He flushed a bit, “Whatever! Either way I don’t want to owe you shit so I made you something.”

March set his mug down on the coffee table, pulled the box out from behind his back and handed it to the farmer.

“What? You made me something? You didn’t have to do that,” The farmer gasped, taking the box from him tenderly.

“Well I did so, do whatever you want with it I don’t care.”

I hope you love them.

“Can I..” The farmer looked at him shyly, “Can I open it now?”

March scoffed, “If you must.”

The farmer set their own drink down and lifted the lid gingerly before pulling out a set of copper bracelets.

March could almost feel his soul leaving his body as he watched them examine the jewelry.

The first two were plain bands, perfectly shiny and glittering in the light. The next was one with rubies set into the metal. The fourth was a band carved to look like vines intersecting and intertwining with each other. The fifth was a delicate chain with four charms on it, a sickle, a hammer, an anvil, and a cow.

“Oh my gods…” the farmer whispered, their hands trembling slightly as they held the gift.

Shit they hate it.

March scrambled in his brain for something— anything— to say to get the bracelets back. It was a stupid idea anyways, of course they would hate it.

Before he could make a move to snatch them back, he was thrown back onto the arm of the couch as the farmer threw themselves at him and wrapped their arms around his neck.

March sat their frozen, his arms suspended in the air.

What the hell is happening?

He could feel their breath brushing against his neck as they whispered to him.

“They’re beautiful.”

It felt like a weight was lifted from his shoulders.

March let out a sigh of relief before letting his arms drop and wrap around the person in his arms.

“You really like them?”

“Are you kidding?” They pulled away from him to look him in the eyes, their own shimmering with unshed tears, “This is the best gift anyone has ever given me.”

They moved to sit up and wiped at their eyes, “I don’t even know what to say.”

March followed them in sitting up, letting his hands rest at their waist and a small smile to grace his features.

“Well, you could start with a thank you.”

The farmer laughed loudly, a huge grin on their face.

“Thank you March, so so much,” they said as they leaned over to rest their head in the crook of his neck.

March tilted his head to rest his cheek against theirs, “Of course.”

Beautiful creatures such as you deserve beautiful things.

[imujings]

[b.sk] boo seungkwan’s guide to love

synopsis | an easy, four-step guide on how to win anyone’s heart—written by yours truly, boo seungkwan! (or, the three times seungkwan is determined to set up the perfect way to confess, and the one time he realizes all he has to do is be himself.)

♯ pairing(s) | bestfriend!boo seungkwan x gn!reader, non-idol!svt & gn!reader ♯ genre(s), wc | best friends to lovers & fluff, 5.4k ♯ warnings | cursing, friendly banter (someone save dino), two stupid silly sexual innuendos, some kissing, a few silly misunderstandings (sorry!!! They're Idiots <3), whisper of the heart spoilers!!, reader chokes on water

jay’s musings | HAPPY BIRTHDAY RANIA-BOO @wheeboo !! this one is ALLL for u!!!! and i mean it. ur genuinely SUCH a sweet and loving person, getting to know u has been such an honor. i love our daily convos and interactions, and am just so so so glad to have met u :) always remember that u! are! made! of! stardust! i hope u enjoy this, mwah <3

Boo Seungkwan needs to get a fucking grip.

He’s sprawled across his living room couch, eyes tracking a ladybug as it crawls across his ceiling. How the little creature somehow managed to be birthed in a winter as cold as this one, he will never know, but Seungkwan prays to whatever stars above that this is a sign of luck for the impending doom laying ahead of him.

Chan, Seungkwan’s roommate, ambles into the room with a bag of chips. He sits down on the chair perpendicular to the forlorn boy and interrupts his overthinking session. “Sulking isn’t going to make the perfect birthday gift for them suddenly appear, you know.”

Seungkwan blows a raspberry into the air. Curse Chan and his ability to read the room.

Okay, here’s the current dilemma: your birthday is coming up. His birthday is coming up. He’s known you for three years now, and for all of those three years he’s been painfully, crazily in love with you. So much he doesn’t think he can survive another year without bursting at the seams. (Chan says he’s being overly dramatic, but Seungkwan knows the racing of his heart and the permanent smile on his face whenever he’s around you are very life-threatening symptoms.)

Therefore, Seungkwan has made it a personal mission of his to finally confess this year, preferably before he succumbs to his feelings once and for all. Problem is, he doesn’t know how. Or when.

“At this point, just wrap yourself up in ribbons and present yourself to them as their gift. They’d love anything you give them, you unfortunately included,” Chan continues around a mouthful of potato chips, scrolling through his phone as he chews rather loudly.

He glares at his roommate. “You can’t be serious.”

The other boy swallows—Seungkwan makes a face at this—and Chan finally turns to the brooding man, his voice becoming earnest.

“Kwannie, I have been the victim of your lovesick rants for three years. And for every one of those three years, you two have endlessly pined after each other with the excuse of ‘just being best friends.’ I mean like, come on, dude. Hansol’s constantly sending me screenshots of his conversations with them, asking why he’s the one being texted when he says that you’re the one they’re dating. I had to tell him—like, just last month—that you two are in fact, not together, and then he didn’t even believe me and almost asked them right then and there. I stopped him before he could. You’re welcome, by the way.”

Seungkwan listens with a frown at his roommate’s fed-up tangent. The ladybug that was on the ceiling is now perched on top of one of their shelves, wandering across the pot of a plant you had gotten him as a gift. Snake plants reflect good luck and resilience for growth, you had told him with a smile, and his mouth curves into a deeper pout.

“Channie-ah, if I’m going to confess, it needs to be perfect! It’s not like I can just throw myself at them and hope they’re willing to jump my bones too,” Seungkwan makes a half-hearted attempt at a joke, his hands hitting the sides of the pillow he’s holding with a thump.

Chan mutters something under his breath. The green, fuzzy pillow is chucked towards his head in response, and the boy shrieks.

“I heard that, you idiot.”

“Then you should know that they like you too, you idiot,” his roommate shoots back, tossing the pillow back towards the couch. “And please don’t talk to me about jumping their bones. That is something I do not want to hear about.”

Seungkwan catches it easily and rests the pillow on his stomach. “If they like me back then that’s even worse,” he bemoans. “That means it needs to be more than perfect.”

He’s not exactly oblivious. Seungkwan’s known now for a little bit that you might harbor some sort of feelings for him back, which is why he’s even allowing himself to move forward with a plan as bold as this in the first place. However, the idea of you still rejecting him—whether it be from unrequited feelings, or even worse, because his confession was pathetically lame—gnaws away at his heart with unrelenting constancy.

“I don’t think it needs to be perfect,” Chan tries to reassure and comfort to the best of his ability, but the way Seungkwan frets makes him doubt he’ll have any influence on the older boy at all. “Like I said before, they’d be happy with anything you’d give them. Especially a confession. I think you could FaceTime them right now, ask them out on a date, and they’ll say yes. Fuck timing, you know?”

It’s as if his words had fallen on deaf ears. His face lighting up with an idea, Seungkwan nods, determination set in his jaw.

“You’re right about timing. I’ll just have to choose the right moment, with a foolproof plan,” he declares dramatically, going to type up a plan in his notes app.

Chan runs a hand over his exasperated face at his friend’s awfully selective hearing, and the ladybug seems to take this as its cue to fly to another room.

┊ Step 1: Choose the right place and time for a private conversation!

Seungkwan determines that the first ideal moment to confess is when you and him are at your favorite cafe, comfortably catching up after a week of not seeing each other.

The cafe is in a lull at the moment, the only other customers being an old couple sitting in front of the large bay windows. You’re donning a comfy sweater and thick woollen scarf, one that was given to you by Seungkwan some few birthdays ago, and his face flushes as he tries to focus on the conversation again. Some story about your closing shift at work and coming home to your dog way later than you had anticipated.

It’s… oddly intimate, Seungkwan thinks as your hands make little gestures while you talk.

The soft, warm overhead cafe lamps make your eyes shine and his breath catches, too afraid to exhale. He thinks if he breathes too harshly he’ll wake up with sweaty palms and a racing heart.

God, he’s so nervous, fidgeting with his fingers and counting the seconds in his head on how long he should be making eye contact with you so as to not come off as suspicious. You smile while recounting the excited way your pup greeted you as you finally had trudged through your front door and the corners of Seungkwan’s mouth arch in turn. Bracing himself, he reaches over the marbled tabletop, grasping a hold of your hands in his as you ramble on and starting to play with your fingers.

Your voice falters for a moment.

Seungkwan traces his thumb along your knuckles and raises an eyebrow, doing his best to look unaffected and not like he wants to press kisses to the pads of your fingertips. When all you do in the end is smile at him and pick up where you left off, he makes a mental fist pump, seeing the light at the end of the tunnel.

Now, all Seungkwan has to do is somehow turn the focal point to him. Maybe wait for a natural pause in the conversation, or–

His brain goes haywire as you run your own thumb along the side of his hand. “Something on your mind?” you tease, though he’s quick to notice how your eyes flit between your intertwined fingers and anywhere but his face.

Interesting.

A boost of confidence surging through him, Seungkwan waits a beat before replying smoothly. “Nothing other than you.”

The hopeless romantic in him cheers.

The larger, more realistic part of him is completely mortified.

He watches with a clenched jaw as your face morphs into one of surprise, to disbelief, and then your face is warming to a hue he, frankly, didn’t know was possible. Seungkwan worries he’s faring not much better, clearing his throat and reassuring himself that he can save this somehow.

I wanted to talk to you about something, is what he wants to say.

“Uh,” he says dumbly instead.

There’s an embarrassingly long period of silence between the two of you, clearly both caught off guard by the other. Your hands are still clasped in his.

He tries again. “So…”

The barista calls your name, a matcha latte and iced americano sat side by side on the counter next to some of your favorite pastries on a cute little tray. As if a spell was broken, the pair of you jump apart like you were caught making out rather than just holding hands. You look at him apologetically. “Sorry, Kwannie. Hold that thought.”

Seungkwan is so, so close to banging his head on the table after you stand up and turn away from him. He momentarily wonders how much the hospital bill would cost.

Miraculously enough, he manages to hold himself back. By the time you’re sliding into the booth, giving him his order and inquiring about what he wanted to tell you, Seungkwan has dreadfully made up his mind to postpone the confession for another day. Cafe confessions are overrated, anyways.

┊ Step 2: Express your immense gratitude and appreciation for your relationship!

The next time Seungkwan decides to try his luck, it's over the course of a few days.

Chan, as per usual, treads into their living room with a snack; this time it’s a bag of sour gummy worms. He blinks in surprise at the sight of his roommate carefully arranging a bouquet of flowers on their table as if he’s approaching a baby deer in the wild. Seungkwan’s eyes are practically slits while he snips away at the ends of the flower stems, tongue caught between his teeth in utmost concentration.

The younger boy hovers near him, a little nervous about interrupting his focus and the consequences that would occur if he did. “What kind of flowers are those?”

“Lilacs,” Seungkwan replies immediately, never losing the attention he has on plucking some of the more wilted leaves off of a particular stem. “With some lavender and baby’s breath.”

Chan lets out a low whistle. He then regards the gift basket sitting next to Seungkwan with a small, knowing smirk. “What’s that in the bag?”

His roommate scowls at him as he ties the bouquet together with a soft, white ribbon, the bow the perfect finishing touch. “None of your business.”

“Who are you giving it t—”

“Channie-ah,” Seungkwan warns in a high, sugary sarcastic tone, and said man only smiles wider. “Don’t you have a gym you should be at right now? Or just somewhere else other than here at home?”

Shrugging, Chan pops the last sour gummy worm in his mouth and hastily crumples the empty bag into a ball. “Guess I could see if Soonyoung is up for going to the gym.”

He disappears into the hallway leading to the bedrooms, leaving Seungkwan to his own devices, and your best friend takes this chance to go over his carefully crafted gifts. He bites his lip. He hopes the flowers are to your liking.

His eyes roam over to the simple wickered gift basket on the table, filled to the brim with your favorite snacks. A handmade card sticks out on the side and he cringes. Maybe he shouldn’t have made that on three hours of sleep. He can see the places where the pen in his hand wavered a little too hard, little imperfections that make his skin crawl.

“Goodluck with your confession, Kwannie-ah,” Chan’s amused tone snaps him out of his thoughts.

He's dressed in more socially acceptable going-out clothes now, opting for a heavy winter jacket over a tank top and sweatpants instead of his favorite fuzzy plaid pajama pants. His gym bag is thrown over his shoulder, a water bottle hastily pushed into one of the side pockets. Seungkwan wrinkles his nose as he catches the sight of the silver chain sitting around his neck. He always told Chan they looked a little tacky, but he never listened. To each their own, he guesses, turning back to the dark oak table.

“Yeah yeah, don’t stay out too late,” Seungkwan waves him off.

Chan throws out a laugh as he steps out the door. “I’ll let you know when I’m on my way back. Y’know, so I’m not interrupting anything.”

The door clicks shut before the man can snipe his roommate with the pair of garden shears he’s holding.

Lee Chan was so fucking lucky he helped pay rent for a comfortable apartment nearby their work and in walking distance from a grocery store. Otherwise, Seungkwan swears he would toss the boy into the street without a second thought.

He still had an hour or two before you arrived; you had texted him earlier saying you would stop by after your work with some takeout, excited for a night in with him to catch up on the dramas neglected lately due to busy schedules. Usually, by this time, he would be sending random voice notes to you pestering you for taking so long and doing an improv song about waiting for a long lost love. Now, though, he blesses the stars that you love to take your sweet time on the train, knowing you spend the minutes with music blasting through your headphones as you gaze out the window lost in thought.

So Seungkwan spends his own time fussing over his appearance, switching from casual clothes to comfy pajamas to business formal (you never know), before he finally settles on some wide-legged joggers and a layered hoodie. That way, he reasons as he fixes his hair for the thirtieth time, no matter if you wanted to go out for a stroll or stay in and cuddle—assuming you accepted his confession, of course—he would be ready to go.

A brrring! from his phone startles him. He rushes to the living room as a muted knock on the door sounds, indicating your arrival.

Okay, Boo Seungkwan, he sucks in a breath. Play it cool.

The first thirty minutes or so go relatively peaceful. You’re fresh in your work clothes, greeting him with a tired smile and your guys’ favorite ramen takeout place. Light, easygoing chatter about your day calms his nerves, making himself comfortable on the couch with your leg pressed against his. It’s moments like these that Seungkwan really cherishes; your skinship and his eagerness, your careful attentiveness and his long rambles, your laugh and his joke being the cause of it.

Photographs and miscellaneous wall prints hang from his walls and watch over the two of you comfortably as you slurp down your ramen, giggling over who can make the most noise. His apartment is homely and he takes pride in it—he never lets anyone forget the amount of hours he spent pouring over what shade of green to paint the walls—but somehow, having you here only makes the place more lively. More homely.

As you’re cleaning up the living room table, a song spilling from your lips, it takes everything in him to not grab you by the waist and kiss you breathless. Instead, Seungkwan makes an excuse to retreat briefly to his bedroom, snatching the flowers and gift basket he had carefully stashed away under his desk.

You look up when he returns and halt in your efforts in stretching his favorite throw—a quilt his mother bought for him—across your body. Surprise is plastered all over your face, and he nervously bites his lip. He really hopes he doesn’t look as whipped for you as he feels right now.

“Hi,” he starts, bowing his head awkwardly and setting the gift basket on your lap. “These are for you.”

Your hands reach for the flowers, lips parted slightly and eyes wide with innocent bliss. Your voice echoes his in a question. “For me?”

“Ah, yeah,” he scratches at his neck and sits down, not wanting to hover over you like some intimidating guy at the bar. Your name falls off his tongue like it was there waiting to be let out. “I wanted to thank you. You um, mean a lot to me, you know? You’ve truly made my life so much more worth living. Whenever I’m sad, you’re right there to hold my hand through it, and whenever I’m happy, it’s like you take that joy and make it tenfold. I truly… don’t know where I would be without your kindness and support. I say this all because… well…”

The words get caught in his throat and he feels himself freeze in panic.

“...Seungkwan?” your smile is puzzled and his gaze pierces you with an intensity that makes you shift in your seat. “Uh, thank you, but my birthday isn’t for another two weeks.”

“I totally understand!—oh.”

He didn't exactly predict you misunderstanding this interaction as one of the thousands of possible outcomes during his nightly overthinking sessions, so he has no idea how to respond. “Uh. Um. This is for another reason other than your birthday, actually.”

“Oh, okay,” you pause. “Then what is it all for? Did you finally snap the friendship bracelet I gave you? You know I can make you a new one; kinda knew it would break with the amount of crap you put it through.”

Before Seungkwan can respond, there’s a heavy series of clunk!-clank!-clink!’s at the door, followed by someone very obviously jingling a set of house keys.

“Seungkwan!” someone sing-songs insufferably from outside the door, and the mentioned person can quite literally hear his jerk of a roommate turning the doorknob multiple times without actually opening it. “My lovely roommate and best friend, I’m home! I cannot wait to tell you about my very productive time at the gym with Soonyoung!”

Lee Chan has his grand entrance through the front door of their apartment, making a show out of kicking off his shoes and bumping against every piece of furniture possible. He doesn’t notice the way you two are fixated on him until he’s face to face across the coffee table with Seungkwan’s deadpan stare and your astonished expression. Chan stops mid-yell, arms falling limply to his side as his brain processes the fact that you two are currently not kissing each other with renewed fervor at the unconcealing of long-held feelings.

“Oh, shit. Was I interrupting something?”

Seungkwan decides right then that being homeless is better than having Chan as a roommate, and that he’ll terminate his lease first thing tomorrow morning.

┊ Step 3: Be honest and direct about your feelings!

After that disastrous last attempt, Seungkwan has sworn off trying to confess—at least, for the time being. He needs time to lick his wounded pride better, and in the meantime, Chan owes him daily morning coffee for a month as an apology.

However, it’s like it's your personal job to make it hard for him to keep his mouth shut.

“God,” you groan and miserably throw your head back against the couch. “Their love is so sweet. I’m so sick of them.”

The pair of you are wrapped up in the thick, white comforter on your bed, your laptop screen illuminating your faces in flashes of bright colorful pastels. Whisper of The Heart is a familiar movie to the both of you, having only watched it millions of times—yet you crawl back to it around the same time each year, heart squeezing excitedly at the life lessons of soul-searching and love taught in the Studio Ghibli film.

It’s the end of the movie, and as you delightfully wring your hands in anticipation for the confession scene, Seungkwan shamefully admits to himself that he spent more time watching your reactions than the movie itself. He can’t help it, eyes flickering to you every time you’d giggle or gush at Shizuku and Seiji’s antics. You were particularly fond of the story Shizuku had written, and he had marveled at the way you couldn’t stop yourself from pausing the movie to explain your analysis of the anecdote to him. He knew your theories inside and out, but he hung onto every word that fell off your lips like it was life or death.

You sigh dreamily and startle Seungkwan out of his thoughts. Your hands are now clutching one of the various stuffed animals thrown haphazardly around your bed. On the screen, Seiji’s arms are wrapped tightly around Shizuku, his words ringing loud and clear through your laptop’s speakers. I love you!

“First loves are so powerful,” you sigh again loudly as the credits begin to roll, the recognizable Country Roads playing. “I wish I got to experience something like them. When is it my turn?”

Time slows down.

Seungkwan knows it’s supposed to be a rhetorical question. That he’s supposed to roll his eyes and tell you to stop playing into your delusions; maybe even joke that you should just download a dating app if you’re this desperate. Perhaps it’s because it’s late into the early morning, or because he had one too many of the devastatingly delicious cookies you two had baked earlier—whatever the reason, he doesn’t even think twice before he’s huffing and throwing his arms around your shoulders, his cheek pressed to yours.

“I love you!”

Oh. That wasn’t how that was supposed to go.

You look at him, eyes wide. He can feel your breath against his lips and it makes his brain short-circuit, pulling away as fast as he had hugged you. The air is suddenly so thick it makes his throat feel choked up, like there’s something dry stuck in it, and he’s desperately reaching for some pathetic excuse as to why he just did what he did.

The credits end and the classic Totoro stares at you two for a brief moment on screen, before going black. It’s eerily silent in your room, your clock ticking like a time bomb on your wall. It’s dark except for the little squishable duck nightlight perched on your dresser, and he watches the way you swallow in the dim lighting.

“Stop messing around,” you ultimately laugh, shoving him away hard in the shoulder and reaching for your bottle of water.

He takes note of the nervousness in your giggles. Messing around? Messing around? He feels a mixture of irritation and frustration well up inside of him, pent up from the past few weeks of misfortune. Seungkwan rolls his eyes. “For goodness’ sake, I’m literally not. I’m serious. I love you.”

A choke.

You’re coughing violently and he’s at your side immediately, rubbing your back in soothing circles. The plushie you were holding is replaced with a proper pillow to keep you upright. “Shit, I’m so sorry. Are you okay? Do you need me to call someone?”

It’s as if you don’t even hear him. You inhale a final breath to steady yourself and gawk at him. “Are you serious?”

“Serious about what?”

“You loving me.”

And it’s as if something in him finally snaps.

“Yes, I’m serious,” he whines, theatrically falling on his side and draping his arms over his quickly reddening face. “But this wasn’t how it was supposed to go! It was supposed to be perfect. I had a whole masterminded plan, where we would go to the park, and there’s no one around but us and we sit on a swing set reminiscing about youth, and then the sun would be setting and you’d look at me and go ‘It’s beautiful,’ and then I’d look at you and go—”

Seungkwan stops when he hears your giggle.

He slowly brings his hands down from his face, staring at you with bewilderment.

You’re laughing. He just confessed his undying love for you and you’re laughing.

“Kwannie,” you gasp between fits of laughter, clutching your side with one hand and covering your mouth with the other. “Oh my God, Seungkwan, hold up. Give me a second.”

After your laughter subsides, you gently take his hands in yours. Highlights from the sole source of lighting line your hair in a halo-like glow. Your grin is as wide and as bright as a crescent moon; though his heartbeat is going wild at the what-ifs screaming in his head, he vows that’s going to be his favorite phase of the lunar cycle now.

“Seungkwan,” you start again, tone raw and sweet as honey, “I love you, too.”

You love him. You love him. Fireworks are going off in his brain, and his heart is rejoicing at the fact that you feel the same as he does. He swears he can hear the band that’s playing the congratulatory tune.

“But…” you trail off, and his eyes widen. “Wait, relax. Just listen to me.”

“All that stuff you said–about your confession being perfect. I hope you realize that I don’t need perfection from you,” he opens his mouth to protest, but you stop him with a look. “I’ve never wanted it, either. In fact, I’ve only ever wanted you. This… okay, this is super cheesy, so look away.”

Seungkwan scoffs. You give him another stern look, and he pouts, his gaze zeroing in on your laptop that’s been discarded off to the side. There’s a moment of your hesitation—palpable, so tangible he could hold it in his hands—before he feels the plush of your lips against his cheek.

“You didn’t make me fall for you by being ‘perfect,’ you made me fall for you by being yourself,” you finish, pulling away and ducking your head shyly.

“I—” Seungkwan pauses, his breathing a little shaky. “God, wait, I wish I had a do-over! Hold on.”

A thousand and one thoughts, all incoherent, are running through his mind at lightning speed. You wait patiently as he racks his brain for anything remotely put together.

“Can I kiss you?” is all he ends up asking. He gives up on being eloquent in his speech for now—his mind can’t really function anymore, only focused on one goal, and you giggle as his palm cups your cheek.

Your eyes meet his, shining. “Of course.”

When his lips press to yours, he swears he can see songs and hear colors. If there’s one thing that didn’t go wrong about this impromptu confession, it’s your lips moving against his, soft and tender and everything else he had imagined. You pull away first and he finds himself following, hoping you’ll indulge him in a second one; when you do, smiling against his lips, he feels like he’s made true inner peace with himself.

“Okay, I know this changes things, but please let me have a do-over,” Seungkwan gripes, finally breaking away and resting his forehead against yours. “Let me ask you out for real.”

“Alright, Kwannie,” you laugh and give him another peck on the lips. “When?”

“When?” he echoes, grinning mischievously. “Honey, the surprise is the best part. If I tell you when, it makes it less than perfect.”

┊ Step 4: Pray they don’t reject you Respect their response, no matter good or bad!

On the day of your birthday, you have your first date with Boo Seungkwan.

It’s confirmed when you and him are out on a leisurely walk, meandering around the park near your place and talking about the meanings of life. There’s not much to it; you’re dressed up in your favorite winter clothes, a scarf once again wrapped around your neck, your nose tucked into it to keep it from getting too cold. Your voice is muffled but pleasant to his ears, a warmth biting away the brisk air as the day winds down.

He’s jittery and he knows it. His gloved fingers brush yours every so often, hesitating before pulling away, and his eyes are embarrassed every time they meet yours. You had looked up at him earlier with mirth swimming in your eyes, giggling. “Nervous ‘cause we’re on a date?”

Seungkwan pouts. “Well, yes, actually. Simple as it is, I’d like this to be our first date of many.”

He sees the shock cross your eyes before it's replaced with pure joy. You tuck your face more into your scarf and Seungkwan physically feels his fists clench with the sudden urge to pinch your cheeks.

“Okay,” you mumble, reaching for his hand and locking your fingers together. “Lead the way, then.”

Seungkwan giddily tightens his hold on you. He simply can’t believe his luck. The love between you two feels like second nature, like something he’s known how to do all his life, and he wouldn’t trade the feeling of your hand in his for the world. You’re his go-to point of contact. His best friend. His partner in crime. His person.

The January sun, long and painting the sky in streaks of orange and pink, is dipping behind the city buildings when he stops. He didn’t really have a spot in mind for what he wanted to say, instead basing it off of how many steps he could take before the golden hour light hit your face just right.

He wants to kiss you again.

You quizzically raise an eyebrow as Seungkwan rubs his glove-encased thumb along yours, his brown eyes warm. “I know you said I just have to be myself, but being myself includes being totally and immensely in love with you to the point of having to confess twice. Also because my pride still can’t take that I confessed earlier than I wanted to.”

You’re laughing, and he is too, but he wipes away the tears welling up in his eyes and returns his hands to yours, proceeding. “I’ve loved you for as long as I can remember. I’m so grateful and blessed by the stars to have had you in my life as a friend up until now, and I promise you, I’ll do everything I can to return the happiness and more.”

He says your name, soft and precious. Your eyelashes flutter. “Will you let me have the honor of being your boyfriend?”

No hesitation laces your reply.

“Yes, stupid. For you, it’s always yes.”

Sharing giggles, you throw your arms around his neck, lips brushing his before closing the remaining distance. The kiss is just as sweet as the first few, however a little colder due to the frigid winds picking up around you. He feels your smile against his lips and knows his expression is mirroring yours. It's silly and profound, and you would think with how dramatic he’s being, he just proposed to you for life. Shit. He’s getting ahead of himself, and stuffs the thought away for another time.

He pulls away this time and clutches you close to him. “Let’s go inside now? I actually had more to say, but I’m freezing.”

You throw your head back in a mellifluous laugh and nod vigorously. Smiling, Seungkwan firmly believes he’ll never get tired of the sound, just like he’ll never tire of his life being entwined with yours.

┊ Bonus:

Your teeth are chattering and your skin tingles as you step into your wonderfully heated and dimly lit apartment. “Wow, it’s so cold out—”

“Surprise! Happy birthday!”

The lights flicker on as you shout, scrambling back into Seungkwan’s arms. Your friend group stands in various corners of your living area, some holding party poppers and wearing poorly suited birthday hats. Seungcheol holds a cake in his hands that’s frosted with your favorite color. When they see the two of your guys’ interlocked hands, a second round of cheers erupt, and you laugh in disbelief.

“Just so you know, you can thank me for you two finally getting together,” Chan exclaims happily from his spot next to a smirking Jeonghan, pumping his fist in the air with the excitement of a kid who just got told he can stay up an hour past his bedtime.

Seungkwan lunges for him.

“Okay, but am I wrong? Stop it—ow, wait, ouch, stop—!”

[biblical-chronicles]

Desperation

_________________________________________

where the reader and Liam celebrate him going solo (and she really wants to be taken for a ride but he's in a rather teasing mood).

[18+] (!!)

_________________________________________

The flat was a proper state by now as the two of you celebrated As You Were finally being out in the world. You were both a bit too drunk, sprawled out on the couch, laughing at each other over nonsense only the two of you would find funny.

Liam was lounging, his legs stretched out on the coffee table, head tilted lazily against the couch. His hair was a mess, and his t-shirt was rumpled, but he looked so damn good. You’d been sneaking glances at him all night, your chest swelling with pride over everything he’d accomplished.

You sighed, a bit louder than you intended. He turned his head to look at you, a knowing smirk already on his lips.

“What’s that for, then?” he asked.

You hesitated, the alcohol in your system making your tongue a bit too loose. “Just… proud of you, that’s all.”

His smirk softened into a grin, and he tipped his beer bottle toward you. “Cheers, love. Couldn’t have done it without ya, you know.”

You hummed, not trusting yourself to say more. But the longer you sat there, watching him take another swig of his drink, the harder it became to ignore the thoughts swirling in your head. He wasn’t just talented, determined, and sharp-witted—he was beautiful. Absolutely bloody beautiful.

And the alcohol wasn’t helping your restraint.

Before you could overthink it, you set your drink down and shuffled over to him on the couch, clumsily straddling his lap. His eyebrows shot up as he let out a startled laugh.

“Oi! What’s this about, then?”

You grabbed his face, leaning in close enough that your noses almost touched. “You’re too fit for your own good, Gallagher.”

He grinned, his hands instinctively going to your hips to steady you. “Yeah? Took you this long to notice?”

You rolled your eyes, your fingers brushing through his hair. “Shut up.”

“Make me.”

You leaned in to kiss him, but he turned his head at the last second, your lips landing on his cheek instead. You pulled back, glaring at him as he laughed, his shoulders shaking beneath you.

“Liam,” you whined, grabbing the front of his t-shirt. “Stop being an idiot.”

“Can’t help it, love,” he teased, his eyes glinting with mischief. “You’re makin’ it too fun.”

You huffed, trying to kiss him again, but he dodged you, leaning back against the couch with a cocky grin. “Not so fast. You’ve got to work for it.”

“Work for it?” you sputtered, your cheeks flushing. “You’re unbelievable.”

“And yet,” he said, smirking, “here you are, throwin’ yourself at me.”

Your frustration boiled over, and in your drunken determination, you shoved his shoulders back, making him topple slightly against the armrest of the couch. He let out an exaggerated oof, laughing as you finally managed to capture his lips in a kiss.

It was messy and uncoordinated, your teeth grazing his bottom lip at one point. You could feel his smirk against your mouth as he finally started kissing you back, his hands tightening on your hips.

“‘Bout time,” he muttered against your lips, his voice still teasing.

“Oh, give over,” you mumbled, trying to keep up with his relentless teasing, but the way his hands slid up your back had your words trailing off into a sigh.

“Look at you,” he murmured, pulling back just enough to catch his breath. “All worked up. Proper desperate for me, aren’t ya?”

You glared at him, your cheeks burning as you tried to retort, but he leaned in, nipping playfully at your jawline, effectively cutting you off.

“Admit it,” he murmured, his breath hot against your ear. “You can’t resist me.”

“You’re such a tosser,” you managed, but your voice lacked conviction as his lips trailed down to your neck.

“Yeah, maybe,” he said, chuckling. “But you love it.”

You couldn’t argue with that, not when his hands were sliding under the hem of your shirt.

Your fingers fumbled with the hem of his t-shirt, the alcohol making your coordination less than stellar. You tugged at the fabric clumsily, desperate to feel more of him, your frustration bubbling up when he only chuckled at your attempts.

“Christ, love,” he teased, tilting his head to look at you, his grin infuriatingly smug. “In a bit of a rush, are we?”

“Liam,” you whined, your voice thick with want and exasperation. “You’re impossible.”

“Am I?” he said, arching a brow, his hands still lazily brushing along your sides as if he had all the time in the world.

You groaned, giving up on his shirt for the moment and instead pressing yourself closer to him. His thigh was firm beneath you, and the sudden friction sent a shiver through your body. You bit your lip, your cheeks heating up as you instinctively started to move, rolling your hips clumsily against him in an attempt to find some relief.

Liam’s hands froze for a moment, and you caught the slight hitch in his breath before he smirked again, his grip on your hips tightening.

“Bloody hell,” he muttered, his voice dropping to a low, gravelly tone. “You’re not messin’ about, are ya?”

“No, I’m not,” you shot back, the alcohol giving you just enough courage to glare at him. “And if you don’t stop taking the piss, I’ll—”

“You’ll what?” he interrupted, his grin widening as he tilted his head, his eyes practically glowing with amusement.

You didn’t answer, too focused on the sensation of his thigh beneath you, the way his hands guided your movements even as he teased you mercilessly. You felt clumsy and desperate, but you didn’t care. The heat pooling in your stomach was impossible to ignore, and Liam’s refusal to just give in was driving you mad.

“Liam,” you groaned, your voice coming out more like a plea than you intended.

“Yeah?” he replied.

“Please,” you murmured, your forehead dropping to his shoulder as you continued your movements, your breath hitching with every pass.

He hummed, the low sound vibrating through you, and you felt his lips brush against your temple. “What’s the matter, love? Thought you were in charge here.”

You pulled back, glaring at him through narrowed eyes.

“Why do you have to be such a pain?” you shot back, your voice a little shaky, though whether it was from the alcohol or the way his hands gripped your waist, you couldn’t tell.

“Me? A pain?” He tilted his head, mock innocence dripping from his tone. “You’re the one grindin’ on me like it’s your last night on Earth.”

You swatted his arm, your cheeks flushing hotter than they already were. “You’re impossible.”

“Impossible?” He clicked his tongue, shifting slightly beneath you just to watch your breath hitch. “Not what you were sayin’ a minute ago, was it?”

You groaned, throwing your head back dramatically. “Why do I even put up with you?”

Liam leaned closer, his lips brushing just below your ear. “’Cause you can’t resist me, and you know it.”

“Ugh,” you huffed, your frustration spilling over as you tugged at his shirt again. This time, it was less clumsy, more determined, but he still didn’t budge, his hands catching yours mid-motion.

“Easy, tiger,” he teased, holding your wrists gently but firmly. “What’s the rush? We’ve got all night.”

“Liam Gallagher, if you don’t—”

But he cut you off with a laugh, leaning back into the couch as if this was all a game to him. “Go on, then. What’re you gonna do?”

Your reply caught in your throat, your brain too foggy to come up with a decent retort. Instead, you let out a frustrated growl, your movements against him becoming a little more frantic, desperate for any semblance of control.

Liam’s grip on your waist tightened, his teasing smirk faltering just slightly as his breathing grew heavier. “Careful, love,” he murmured, his voice low and gravelly. “You’re gonna wear yourself out.”

“I wouldn’t have to if you’d stop being such a—”

“Such a what?” he interrupted, his lips brushing against yours, so close but not nearly enough. “Go on, say it.”

“Such a bastard,” you finished, your voice shaky as you met his gaze.

He chuckled again, his forehead resting against yours. “Maybe,” he admitted, his hands sliding down to your hips to guide your movements just enough to make you gasp.

Liam's hands on your hips were steady now as you rocked against his thigh. You could feel it building, that tight coil in your stomach, your body responding to the rhythm you’d created. The alcohol coursing through you only made it more intense.

You let out a shaky breath, your forehead dropping to his as you whispered his name, your voice trembling with need. “Liam...”

He was watching you closely now, his eyes dark and focused, the smirk still tugging at the corners of his mouth. He shifted his thigh just slightly, enough to make your head fall back with a small, helpless moan.

“Christ, look at you,” he murmured, his voice low and thick with amusement. “You’re so close, aren’t ya?”

You nodded, your hands gripping the fabric of his shirt for support as you kept moving, your breaths growing shorter.

But just as the edge started to blur, just as you felt yourself tipping over, Liam’s hands tightened on your waist and he pulled you down from his thigh.

“Liam!” you gasped, blinking up at him in disbelief, your cheeks burning as small tears prickled in the corners of your eyes.

He laughed softly, clearly pleased with himself. “Bloody hell, look at you,” he said, brushing a thumb under your eye to catch a stray tear that had escaped. “Worked up over nearly nothin’, eh?”

You glared at him, your frustration boiling over. “It wasn’t nothin’, and you know it,” you snapped, though your voice wavered.

He tilted his head, his grin widening. “Oh, I know, love. Believe me, I know. But you’re actin’ like I’ve denied you oxygen or summat.”

“Because you have!” you shot back, your hands pushing at his chest weakly before falling back to your sides.

“Have I now?” he teased, his hands sliding up your thighs to rest on your hips. “Didn’t realize I had that much power over ya.”

“You’re infuriating,” you hissed, your frustration palpable as you squirmed in his hold.

“And you’re bloody gorgeous when you’re like this,” he countered, leaning in close enough that his breath fanned across your lips. “Proper addictive, you are.”

You let out a shaky breath, your tears now more from pent-up tension than frustration, as you whispered, “Then stop messing with me, Liam.”

His grin softened just slightly “Oh, love,” he said, his voice dropping to a low murmur. “I’ll stop when you’re beggin’ me for it.”

You groaned, hiding your face in your hands.

Liam’s teasing smirk lingered, but his resolve seemed to falter when you went on to straddle him again, your head falling against his shoulder.

“Oh, alright, love,” he murmured, his tone still playful. “Can’t have you cryin’ over me, can I?”

Before you could process his words, his hands moved, firm and deliberate, pulling you flush against him. His lips crashed into yours with urgency, the kiss messy and uncoordinated thanks to the alcohol.

You let out a muffled moan against his mouth, your hands tangling in his hair as you melted into him, the earlier frustration dissolving into pure want. His teeth grazed your bottom lip, and you gasped, the sound swallowed by his kiss as his hands slid under your shirt, rough fingertips brushing the bare skin of your back.

“Thought you were gonna make me beg,” you managed to mumble breathlessly between kisses, your voice trembling with equal parts need and triumph.

He chuckled against your lips. “You already did, darlin’,” he teased, his hands gripping your waist as he shifted you closer. “Didn’t even know it.”

You groaned, your nails digging lightly into his scalp in retaliation, earning a sharp inhale from him. “You’re insufferable,” you whispered, though the way your lips chased his told an entirely different story.

“And you’re drunk,” he shot back, his grin breaking the kiss for a moment, his lips brushing against yours as he spoke. “Clumsy as hell, too.”

“Shut up,” you muttered, trying to reclaim his mouth, but he tilted his head just out of reach, his smirk maddening.

“Alright, alright,” he teased, his voice thick with amusement. “No need to get violent, love.”

You groaned, half out of exasperation, half out of desperation, your hands gripping the collar of his shirt as you yanked him closer. “Liam,” you hissed, your tone a warning now.

His smirk faltered as he let you close the gap this time, his lips crashing into yours with a force that sent your head spinning. You moaned into his mouth, your fingers fumbling at his shirt, tugging it up but not managing to get it off entirely.

“Christ, yer keen,” he muttered, his voice muffled against your lips as his hands slid under your top, rough palms skimming up your sides.

“Don’t you dare start again,” you shot back, your words muffled. You shifted in his lap, your thighs clenching around him, which was enough to draw a sharp inhale from him.

“Bloody hell,” he rasped, his grip tightening on your hips as his lips left yours to trail down your jaw, to your neck, biting and kissing with a hunger that matched your own.

Your top was shoved up but not off, and neither of you cared. His hands found every inch of exposed skin they could, and you were just as desperate, tugging his shirt further up his chest, though it remained caught around his shoulders.

“You’re impossible,” you panted, your head falling back as his teeth grazed the sensitive spot just below your ear.

“Yeah look who’s talking.” he shot back, the smirk audible in his voice even as his mouth continued its way down your neck.

You didn’t dignify that with a response, instead grinding down against him, the friction sending a bolt of electricity through you both. His head fell back against the couch, a low groan escaping him as his hands gripped your waist tightly.

“God, Liam,” you breathed, your fingers tangling in his hair as you kissed him again, your lips colliding with his in a mess of teeth and desperation.

“Slow down, love,” he murmured against your mouth, though his hands betrayed him, sliding up your thighs to grip at the curve of your hips. “We’ve got time.”

“Not enough,” you countered, your voice trembling, your fingers digging into his shoulders for balance.

His laugh was rough and low, his lips brushing against yours as he spoke. “You’re mad, y’know that?”

“Shut up and touch me,” you demanded, your hands sliding down his chest, taking in the warmth of his skin through the gaps where his shirt hung open.

His response was immediate, his hands finding the hem of your shorts and tugging just enough to make you gasp.

His hands fumbled with the button of your shorts, his fingers clumsy from the alcohol but determined, his frustration evident in the quiet curses that escaped his lips. You couldn’t help but laugh softly at his struggle, your own hands moving to help him, though it only seemed to tangle you both up further.

“Bloody hell,” he muttered, his voice rough as he finally managed to undo the button, pushing the fabric down just enough to make room for his wandering hands.

Your laugh turned into a breathy moan as his fingers brushed against your skin. You leaned forward, your lips capturing his again in a kiss that was all teeth and urgency, your hands tugging at his shirt in a futile attempt to get it off completely.

“Leave it,” he rasped against your mouth, his hands gripping your hips as he shifted beneath you, trying to maneuver you into a better position as he kissed you again.

“Liam,” you whined, your voice barely above a whisper as you broke the kiss, your forehead resting against his. “Please, just—”

“Impatient, aren’t ya?” he cut you off, his smirk returning as he leaned back slightly, his hands still firmly on your hips, holding you just where he wanted.

You didn’t bother answering instead your fingers quickly found their way to the waistband of his joggers, clumsily tugging them down as Liam shifted beneath you to help, his grin still there. “In a hurry, are we?”

“Shut up,” you muttered, focusing on your task as best as you could, though the alcohol made your movements less than graceful. The material bunched awkwardly, and you cursed under your breath, making him laugh.

“Need a hand, love?” he asked, one brow quirked.

“I’ve got it,” you snapped, though your laugh betrayed your frustration. You finally managed to slide his joggers down enough to reveal the hard line of him pressing against the fabric of his boxers. The sight made your breath hitch, and Liam caught the look in your eyes, his smirk softening lightly.

“Go on, then,” he murmured, his hands settling on your hips, encouraging but still letting you take the lead.

You swallowed hard, the warmth of his hands grounding you as you slid the last barrier away, your fingers brushing against his skin and making him suck in a sharp breath.

Liam’s hands tightened on your hips, his touch searing as you shifted to position yourself over him. His eyes locked on yours, dark and brimming with a hunger that made your chest tighten.

“You sure about this, love?” he asked, his voice rough but sincere.

You nodded, your lips parting as you whispered, “Absolutely.”

“Good.” he muttered, his hands guiding you as you slowly sank down onto him, the stretch stealing your breath. His head fell back against the couch, a sharp exhale escaping him as you both adjusted, the connection overwhelming.

For a moment, neither of you moved, the air filled just with your shared breaths. His hands roamed up and down your thighs, grounding you as you slowly began to rock your hips. The immediate sensation was dizzying, each movement sending sparks through your body.

“Bloody hell,” Liam groaned, his hands gripping your hips to steady you. “You feel… fuckin’ perfect, you do.”

The praise made your cheeks flush, your hands bracing against his chest as you picked up the pace, your movements clumsy but eager. Liam’s fingers dug into your skin, guiding your rhythm as he met you halfway, his low groans and whispered curses spurring you on.

The couch creaked beneath you, the sound mingling with your gasps and moans as the tension built between you. His lips found your neck again, his teeth grazing your skin before he kissed and sucked at the spot, messy and wet, leaving a trail of spit behind before finally getting to your lips again.

The kiss was all tongues and teeth, his spit mixing with yours as you clung to him. He licked into your mouth, his grip on your hips tightening as you whimpered against his lips, completely undone by how fervent he was.

“Look at you,” he murmured, his breath hot against your spit-slicked lips. “So desperate, yeah? Can’t get enough, can ya?”

“Shut up,” you panted, your voice trembling, though your words carried no weight. Your movements grew more frantic, the slick slide of your bodies driving you closer and closer to the edge.

He laughed as his lips caught yours again, the kiss even messier this time. Your spit dripped down your chin but Liam didn’t seem to care, his hands gripping you like he couldn’t bear to let go. His tongue swept over yours, his teeth nipping at your lower lip as you gasped into his mouth.

You whimpered, your nails raking down his chest as you clung to him, unable to keep up with the pace he was setting. His cock filled you perfectly, each thrust sending shocks of pleasure straight to your core, and you couldn’t stop the broken sounds spilling from your lips.

“God, Liam,” you cried, your voice trembling as you pressed your forehead against his, your hips grinding against him desperately.

“Yeah, that’s it,” he groaned, his teeth catching your jawline before dragging his tongue over the damp skin. “So good for me, love. So fuckin’ good.”

Your body trembled as the tension built higher, your legs shaking from the effort, your breaths coming out in sharp gasps. The wet sounds of your bodies moving together were borderline obscene, your slick coating him and making each thrust even filthier.

“You’re close, aren’t ya?” he muttered, his lips brushing against your ear, his breath hot and ragged. “I can feel it—fuck, you’re squeezing me so tight.”

You could only nod, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes from the overwhelming sensation. “Please” you whimpered, not even sure what you were begging for anymore, your body trembling as you chased the edge.

“Go on, then,” he urged, his voice soft but insistent. “Let me feel you.”

The words were your undoing. The tension snapped, pleasure crashing over you in a wave that left you crying out, your nails digging into his shoulders. Your body shook as you came, your movements faltering as he held you steady, riding you through it.

“That’s it, love,” he murmured, his voice low and wrecked, his lips brushing against your temple as he chased his own release. A few more rough thrusts and he groaned, his body tensing beneath you as he spilled into you, his grip on your hips slackening as the last of his strength left him.

The room was filled with the sound of your heavy breaths, the scent of sweat hanging in the air as you both came down from the high. Liam’s hands moved to your back, his touch surprisingly tender as he stroked your damp skin.

“Reckon we’ve done in the couch,” he said, his grin wide and teasing despite the flush on his cheeks.

You laughed, your head still resting on his shoulder. “Wouldn’t be the first time you’ve wrecked a piece of furniture, would it?”

“Oi, cheeky,” he shot back, though his arms tightened around you, holding you close.

As the haze of alcohol and adrenaline began to fade, you couldn’t help but smile against his skin, your fingers tracing lazy patterns on his chest. “Liam,” you murmured softly, “I’m so proud of you.”

He went quiet for a moment, his lips brushing against your hair. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you said, lifting your head to meet his gaze. “You deserve this—everything.”

His grin softened, and for a moment, he looked at you like you’d just handed him the world. “Guess I’ve got everything I need right here.”

_________________________________________

really hope the slight wait for this was worth it ya lot, tried steppin’ me game up a bit, can’t wait for the feedback xx

need more dilf Liam appreciation on here, also hope the pair of ya whose requests I mashed together here are happy with this, love ya!

[berryispunk]

Eres Mi Vida

pairing: Frankie Morales x gn! reader

summary: This man is your whole life. And maybe you are his, too. An argument turned into a fight and now you're here.

tags: argument, fighting, all the angst, slight mention of alcohol, mention of past addiction, mention of trauma, curse words, sprinkle of smut, spanish nicknames (mi alma, mi vida, mi amor...), established relationship, Frankie being a cute puppy, soft! Frankie, Frankie being an idiot, did i mention angst ?

notes: one of my besties imagined there's a voicemail of Frankie after an argument, so i just rolled with it.

word count: 1,2 k

You lay on your bed, face buried in the pillow. Your eyes are puffy and red from all the crying in the last hour.

How did this happen?

How could you let a man dictate your life like this? 

It would be so easy to walk away. 

Never look back, turn off your feelings like you always do.

But you can’t. 

Not this time.

He’s etched onto your heart, seeped into your soul, made a home so deep inside of you and thrown away the key, it’s impossible to simply move on.

You hate him. No, you really do.

The way he looks at you, eyes so full of warmth and genuine interest when you continuously talk about something you’re passionate about. 

He and his damn baseball cap he always claims is part of his personality. He never takes that thing off, only under the shower and in bed. It’s honestly a little disgusting.

He and his silly love for everything spicy. 

He and his cocky smirk standing in the kitchen, something you yourself hate so much, humming a melody to himself, thinking you don’t hear him but you only pretend you don’t. 

All the love he pours into every meal and it tasting good every fucking time. Even if he claimed to be a poor cook at first which is obviously a lie. His satisfied smile when you lean back into your chair and exclaim you’re full for days. 

Maybe you love him for all of these things instead?

Always showing up, never making you question his love for you even once.

The endless public displays of affection, constantly intertwining hands even when you don’t expect it, the warmth of a big hand on your lower back when he’s guiding you through crowds of people or a squeeze to your thigh under the table when you’re out with his friends, thinking nobody else will notice.

His reassuring smile whenever you feel insecure or anxious. 

He made you fall for him so fast it’s scary. The sheer intensity of your feelings for him are dangerous, because you never felt like this before. He made a huge crack in the wall you mentally built around yourself. You’ve never let someone see this unsheltered version of you and it makes you so weak. 

But it never felt like actually falling, because he was there to catch you every time. His kind, soulful eyes on you and his breath ghosting against your temple. “I’ve got you, mi vida,” when he makes you climax for the second time in a row with his skilled tongue.

And now you’re here. Crying your eyes out, your chest painfully tight with anger and hurt. 

Because even if Frankie is perfect in all the right ways, he’s equally messed up in all the wrong ways too. 

His history of addiction, his short temper, his nightmares. 

All things that scare you to no end. 

When he’s suddenly wide awake in the middle of the night, sweaty and breathing heavily, suddenly covering you to shield you from imaginary bullets, it scares you. 

It always takes some time for him to come back to reality and you holding him for a bit, raking your hand through his bed hair until he falls back asleep snuggled up so close against you there’s not a single inch of space between you. 

His temper always gets the best of him when he’s either drunk or the two of you fight. This ugly side of him rearing its head faster than you can say whiplash or even understand the fact you’re in a fight.

Being the hothead you are it’s not like you can’t bite back, but he finds a way to go lower every time. Targeting your issues, making you feel so small. Catapulting you back into your childhood home where screaming and making you feel worthless was on every day’s agenda. 

It causes you to cry in anger, close yourself up, all defense mechanisms flaring up instantly. 

He keeps apologizing in the best way he knows how, his lethal pleading eyes on you make you melt every time. It’s hard being mad at someone who looks like a damn puppy. 

In your head there’s two Frankies: 

The one that worships the ground you walk on, makes you feel so loved and desired like no one's ever done before. The Frankie that may not be the best with words and rather let his actions speak. 

And then there’s this broken version of him. The hurt, the insecurity, the temper all bundled up in a dangerous mix that makes your blood boil. 

How can this be the same person? 

Your vibrating phone almost makes you jump out of your skin. You don’t need to look at the caller ID, you know it’s him. It’s the fifth time he calls. You let his call go straight to voicemail. 

You can’t talk to him right now or you say things you’ll regret, or worse, forgive him immediately. 

You take your phone, unlock it and see he’s left three messages in your mailbox. 

With a heavy heart you lift the phone to your ear. 

“Mi amor, look… I am an idiot. I am so sorry, you know I don’t mean it like this. Please call me back, bye” 

You sigh and press play on the next message. 

“Hey, it’s me, your moron of a  boyfriend. You know that you’re incredibly smart, talented and drop dead gorgeous right? Damn, I swear when I first saw you, I was so intimidated by you. I mean… Did you ever really look at yourself? Because hell, I do. You’re incredible and I know you deserve way more than what I have to offer, but fuck...I—”

There’s a short pause. 

“I love you so much and I am sorry. Please… Call me back, yeah ?”

The tears prick hotly in the corners of your eyes and you take a shuddering breath. 

How can one man be such an intricate mess?

You press play on the last message while you nervously fidget with one of your rings. 

“Okay, you may not wanna talk to me right now but I still need you to know that I fucking love you. I may be a stupid idiot but I am your stupid idiot .. If you still want me, that is. What can I do so you talk to me again? I’ll do everything. Just say a word… mierda! This is the third message I leave you, I-I guess… lo siento, baby. You don’t even know how much. I know I’m a mess…”

You hear him sighing, probably running a hand through his hair in frustration. He clears his throat before continuing to speak. 

“Where was I? Oh right, I’d be damned if I don’t tell you you’re the most precious thing in my life ever and there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you. Eres mi vida, mi alma. I hope I didn’t fuck this up for good. I could never forgive myself.” 

Suddenly there’s silence, the message has ended and there’s another tear streaming down your face. Snuffling, you decide to call him back this instant, or you’ll end up ugly crying again. You can’t help it, you love him too much.

After three rings that feel like an eternity, he answers his phone and your heart stops for a beat. Your breath shudders three times when you start to speak.

[writing-till-i-am-dead]

Stargoth oneshot - Letter

It's not like Buddy liked Chase. He didn't. Honest, he really didn't. And you know he's being honest because he never lies... ok, well, he's lied a couple times.. actually, he's lied a lot. But he's really not lying about this. Because, what is there to like about this idiot? Because that is what he is, an idiot. Plain and simple. With his obviously fake blonde hair and forever-outside voice. The guy should just get the hell out of his way if he knows what's good for him. And that's what he's been telling him.

But he never thought Chase would actually listen.

3 weeks. 3 whole weeks since Chase has been in a book. This was starting to seriously piss him off. Where the hell was he? 

Now, reader, before you start getting ideas that Buddy actually misses Chase, you better think again. Chase has something he wants, the heroine key, and that is it. He just wants the key, so fuck off if you're questioning his honesty in the beginning. 

"Buddy?" calls out a voice, to which Buddy immediately jumped. But don't think he was excited! Or startled. He was merely jumped into action to follow it. However, he quickly realized that wasn't the voice of the blonde, but rather the even more unbearable brunette. 

"What are you doing with the heroine key?" Buddy asks, leaning against the stone archway. He looks around. Another high-fantasy novel with a castle. He's starting to figure out who's the one choosing these books in the first place.

Deacon whips his head around to face Buddy. "Geez. How do you do that?"

"Hm? Do what?"

"Just.. appear out of nowhere? Like you're teleporting or something?"

Buddy scoffed. This idiot really thought he was teleporting? As if someone could top Chase's idiocy. "You still haven't answered my question."

Deacon sighs. "Chase has been.. whining, lately."

Buddy scoffs. "When is he not?"

This got a chuckle from the brunette.

"You guys had some sort of fight in the last book you did together?"

Buddy raised an eyebrow and tried to remember. But, he and Chase would always fight, so he couldn't remember any of the specifics. "Probably."

Deacon rubbed his face, clearly frustrated. Deacon seemed to get peeved with Chase a lot, which gave Buddy a sick satisfaction. Not because he's jealous, of course not. But because if the two don't work well together, it'll be easier to make them crack. Give him information. Stop trying to twist his words.

Deacon groaned. "Well, something you said seriously offended him and he's refusing to use Silver, and has been using Bronze, instead."

Buddy felt his eye twitch, Deacon noticing and taking a step back. "Hey, don't shoot the messenger."

"What did I say that could've offended him that badly?!"

"Hey, you know how fragile his ego is."

Buddy makes a light 'tsk' and puts his hands on his hips. "Well this definitely is.. annoying." Before you think I'm annoyed because now I won't see him, that is not the reason. It's annoying because Chase was a much bigger slip up than his ugly, freckled companion. Buddy can extract more information from him. 

"Tell me about it. We've had lots of trouble collecting narratonin now, since the heroine key.. yknow.. summons you."

Buddy raises an eyebrow. "Well, then. He must not be that determined to collect it, huh?"

"Don't talk like that, Buddy. You don't know. He's been telling me to use the key, as long as I go into different books. But I just haven't wanted to deal with you on my own."

Buddy nods in agreement. "I would rather rip my hair out then be alone with you."

"Look. All I ask is you apologize."

"Look," Buddy says, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I don't even know what it is I said that is worth an apology."

"It was something about his singing, I think? And the narratonin? He gets really heated everytime he talks about it and then shuts down.

Ya, that did sound familiar. Buddy rubbed his temples in an attempt to remember.

"Snap and clap and touch your toes! Raise your hands, now body roll! Dance it out, you're hot to gooooo!!"

"CAN YOU STOP THAT!?" Buddy snaps. "You've been singing that tune all day!"

Chase rolls his eyes. "You are just jealous of my singing."

"Oh trust me, I am anything but. You're singing is like nails on a chalkboard. Grating and makes me wish I didn't have ears! You better hope you collect enough narratonin fast, before too many people are cursed to have listen to your voice and will never give you another chance to sing, even when you use the narratonin to make you bearable to listen to!"

....

Chase left the story after he said that. But Buddy hadn't sweat it too much. Why would he? They always bicker. But based on the look that Deacon was giving him, he could tell that he had screwed up.

"That's.. definitely too far, Buddy."

"I- How was I supposed to know he'd take it to heart?!"

Deacon shakes his head. "Look, whatever. You can't take back what you said and that's fine. But you can at least make up for it. Maybe write him a letter? The bedroom I woke up in the basement had a desk and some paper. Maybe go write something in there?"

Buddy raises a brow before tilting his head back. "Fine! Whatever. Only because of my own reasons, though! Not because I feel bad. Don't go and get the wrong idea!" he calls out as he enters back into the castle, bulldozing through guards.

"Move, move, Evil Queen, make way." He reads down the spiral staircase, twists and turns, twists and turns. By the time his feet hurt in his heeled shoes, he finally reached the basement.

The room felt all too familiar. Small, box shaped with a thick layer of dust on every surface. A creaky bed, about as soft as a rock, and blankets covered in bed bugs. This... was why he didn't really want the heroine key. Of course, he's still going to retrieve it. It's part of his job. But he will never use it. He's already got a crappy life. Why make himself live through another's?

He sits himself in a creaky oak chair, which gave him a few splinters, causing him to flinch. A small pile of thick paper and a quill with mostly dried out ink. But, still good to use. He wish he knew why his words upset Chase so much. Not because he genuinely feels bad, but because it would make this letter less of a hassle to write. He scribbles up in the corner of the parchment to check if the ink works. He then taps a couple of times in an effort to think of what to write. Buddy, despite all of his time dedicated to reading books, has never been good at words. Things never come out right and he always overthinks it, always adding parenthesis and commas to make his point more clear, out of the fear he's not being explicit enough.

"Dear Chase,

I still cannot believe that you let slip what your name was. You truly are 

I apologize that my words had offended you. I may not know what you plan to do with the narratonin, probably something stu. Your singing is really not that bad. It only makes me want to claw my ears off a little. I do think that you can have a big audience if you put your voice out there, with or without the narratonin.

-Sincerely, 'buddy'"

Buddy stared at the letter, questioning everything he wrote, but decided it was... good enough.. ya, it's not like Chase is worth that kind of effort.. 

He folds up the paper and stuck it into his back pocket. He looked up the staircase once more and let's out a long sigh as he made the long trip once more. Twists and turns galore with each step. The guards quickly moved as to not get pushed out of the way again. He found the ugly boy standing outside, waiting for him. He shoved the letter into his chest. "Here."

Deacon let's out a huff and nods. "All right. I'll see you later, Buddy."

Buddy simply just rolls his eyes. "Whatever."

The boy pulls out the Helper Key, wrapped around his neck, and the he's gone. Buddy looks at the spot where he had disappeared before mentally scolding himself for being so hopeful.

~~~~

It's not like Chase liked Buddy. He didn't. Because what is there to like about that jerk? He's an aggressive prick who does nothing but provoke him. With his incredible eyeliner and deep voice... He should just leave Chase alone. And that's what he's been telling him.

So he stopped bothering and has been properly avoiding him. 

Ho could he not? It wasn't the comment about his singing, although that had hurt, but the fact that Buddy thinks he's so shallow that being famous is Chase's biggest concern. And the way Buddy said it didn't ound like just a jab because he was mildly annoyed. It sounded genuine. Like her really thinks so low of Chase. Maybe Chase took it so seriously is because earlier in the day, before he said that, Chase had visited his mom. 

His moping is interrupted by a knocking at his door. He looks up and sees his cousin, Deacon, standing in the doorway.

"Where were you?" Chase asks. Deacon hands him a paper. 

"It's from Buddy."

Chase sucked in a breath. Buddy. Buddy!? Buddy sent him a letter? 

His heart was racing and his hands were clammy. No way. No. Way. Why was he getting so excited. Stop it, heart!! He pats his chest a couple of times to ease his rapid heart rate before he folded the paper open.

He scanned through the words, squinting as he made out some of the scribbled out sentences, and he finishes it off with a deep frown.

"What's with that face?" Deacon asks.

"This is kind of a crappy apology. There are multiple scratched out sentences that was just him being petty."

Deacon takes the paper and reads over it. "Hm. I mean.. ya, it seems kind of backhanded, but at the same time, since when has Buddy gone out of his way to do something like this i the first place?"

"You probably just told him to do it."

"Ya.. but what about the fact that he actually listened?"

Chase froze and looks back at the letter, feeling his face flush slightly. Damnit. He had a good point. He crumbles up the letter and was about to toss it into the trash, but stopped himself and instead tossed it onto his desk.

"Give me my key."

Deacon smirks.

"Don't smile at me like that."

Deacon quickly stifles it and hands Chase the key. Chase gets up ad grabs a totally random book and crams the key into the cover. The last thing he heard was, "Wait, not that book!"

Chase's eyes opened and the first thing he's met with is excruciating pain. He's impaled. He screams at the top of his lungs and standing over him is Buddy, whose eyes are equally as wide as he stares down at Chase. 

"What kind of book did you choose?!" Buddy exclaims, quickly pulling the spear out of Chase's chest, who's left panting and throbbing in pain. Buddy squats down and looks over him. "Deep breaths. The main character of this book has healing powers."

Chase tightly close his eyes and feels the gash slowly close up. He lays down in the ground, panting. "SHIT! I just needed to talk to you. Just my luck."

Buddy chuckles, actually chuckles, which feels like another stab to the heart, but kind of in a good way???

"You got excited to see me?" Buddy asks.

Chase scoffs. "I just came to talk to you about that letter."

Buddy goes quiet. "Hm. You seem upset? Was it not to your liking, your majesty?"

"Eat a sock," Chase grumbles.

Chase sits up, holding himself by his elbows. "What kind of book opens with the heroine getting stabbed?" Chase grumbles.

Buddy shrugs and looks around at the wasteland they were in. "Well.. what did you think of the letter? You still mad at me?"

Chase pauses before huffing. "Nevermind. I just wanted to say it sucked. I would keep avoiding you if it weren't for Silver, like.. begging me to go back to using her."

"Mhm?"

"Mhm!"

Chase stands up. Buddy does too.

It's not like they liked each other. They just had a story to complete. They just happen to.. do it together.

Shut up.

divider by @saradika-graphics

[babyrdie]

Okay, I have something to confess… none of the deaths in The Iliad were sad for me. Aside from the amount of randoms dying, let's consider Patroclus and Hector here because I honestly don't remember the rest.

Patroclus: I genuinely couldn't be sad. Sure, I was sad about the characters' reactions to Patroclus' death (for example, Antilochus running and crying and Achilles' depressive episode), but not about his final battle itself. I'm sorry, guys, but it was funny to read him about to die being petty and saying to Hector something like "you idiot, you only killed me because Zeus and Apollo helped you. Face me alone and I'll kill you! I'll kill you multiple times! Anyway, Achilles is going to kick your ass hahahahahaha he's going to kick your ass SO MUCH". Like, dude, you're DYING. What's YOUR problem, you looked your KILLER in the face and said "actually ☝️ I can kill you". And okay, even if we think it's true that two gods helped Hector… MAN, WHAT KIND OF MIND DO YOU HAVE TO HAVE TO DECIDE THAT YOUR LAST WORDS ARE GOING TO BE ACCUSING YOUR KILLER OF BEING WEAKER THAN YOU. If I were Hector I would respond something like "man, fuck you, you're dying!!!"

Hector: I also couldn't be sad about the death itself. It was sad to see Priam begging, Andromache talking about being enslaved, etc. But the moment of the battle? Sorry, the battle was hilarious. In Book 16, Patroclus was there spitting blood and dying while still using his last breath to be like "I didn't lose, YOU will lose" to Hector (man that was petty) and Hector was like "Achilles? He's not going to kick my ass, I AM going to kick his ass". And then he goes and prepares to fight Achilles alone, despite his understandably worried parents, because he needs to defend the city and it's a touching moment and you understand Hector's decision, but you still feel like it's suicidal, but hey…he seems confident. And you think that this is where the typical epic fight will happen, especially since he responded to Patroclus' threat by insinuating that he would defeat Achilles. But no, he sees Achilles approaching with a murderous aura around him and decides that he's going to run. And he DOESN'T stop. They run around the walls of Troy while the Trojans watch…what is this, a stadium where you watch the action from above? And then you're like "man, how long are they going to run?" and apparently Athena thought so too because she goes and tricks Hector into stopping running. And then you think okay, now it's the epic fight. But no, they're throwing spears at each other and exchanging harsh words while Athena shows her favoritism by helping Achilles. And then Hector is dying and he's like "Paris and Apollo are gonna kill you!!!!" and Achilles is like "bitch, look at my face and tell me if I look like someone who wants to live."

And as an honorable mention, we have two other funny no-death-all-teasing moments!

One of them is Achilles running after Apollo. Bitch, I know you're mad, but that's a GOD. Hurting a god is already a rare feat, do you really think you're going to be able to kill him or something? You got your ass kicked by Scamandrius despiste your confidence (another hilarious scene, actually), man, Apollo isn't on your level. I KNOW YOU'RE MENTALLY UNSTABLE IN THIS SCENE, BUT MAN. Apollo actually taunting Achilles is also hilarious. He is a god that's thousands of years old and he's arguing with this guy who can't even be 30 years-old. This guy who, like, Apollo's stepmother (Hera) acts like he's just Thetis' baby (Hera defending Achilles be like: well, he was suckled on the divine breasts of Thetis! Thetis, a goddess! Goddess that I raised!!!). Like, man, I know you want to kill him, just kill him. No need to trade taunts like you're in the same position or something. My theory is that Apollo was in a bit of an Book 1 Achilles situation. Achilles wanted to kill Agamemnon, but Athena stopped him, so the only option left was to curse him. Apollo wants to kill Achilles, but fate exists and it's not Achilles' time to die. So okay, he'll do the second best thing: provoke him. Like, it is SO personal lol

The other moment is Aeneas. Apollo encouraging Aeneas to fight Achilles because his mother is Aphrodite and Achilles' mother is Thetis, and since Aphrodite is more powerful than Thetis, surely Aeneas is stronger than Achilles, right? Aeneas then goes on and gives Achilles a huge speech. He goes on and on about how his mother is Aphrodite, about how he won't be intimidated, about how he won't be just another one... then Achilles kicks his ass SO hard that Poseidon has to step in and take Aeneas away. And Achilles cares SO MUCH about Aeneas that he's like "oh, a god helped you. Okay then" and goes back to fighting. And let's face it, if Achilles had any interest in Aeneas, he wouldn't care that the gods want Aeneas alive. He literally commits sacrilege with Hector's and tries to go after Apollo, he just didn't go after Aeneas because he apparently doesn't care enough about him. Man, Aeneas, that was humiliating. All that confident speech for that.

I'm seeing a pattern here, actually:

Patroclus "I could kill you!!!" to Hector while being killed by Hector. Okay, man…but dead people don't fight! At least you can brag that you beat Sarpedon if you care so much about proving your skills even while you're dying, I guess.

Hector "hahaha I'll kick Achilles' ass, that threat doesn't affect me!" to Patroclus and then running after seeing Achilles. Running for his entire life if it weren't for Athena. Is this the swift-footed Hector we see running for the third time?????

Achilles "I'm the best of the Greeks! I'm the peak! I'm THE MAN" to Scamandrius and then having to desperately be saved. Dude was defeated by SCAMANDRIUS and thought he could chase APOLLO. GUY IS THE SON OF A NEREID AND ALMOST DIED IN THE WATER.

Aeneas "my mother is Aphrodite, your mother is Thetis. I'm the chad, you're the virgin. That's how we are, you understand?" and then having to desperately be saved. It's even funnier when you think about how he was like "well, his mom is Thetis and she is a Nereid, not a Olympian…" BITCH DIOMEDES ISN'T EVEN A DEMIGOD AND YOU WOULD DIE IF IT WEREN'T FOR APHRODITE. HOW THE HELL DID YOU THINK YOUR MOTHER BEING APHRODITE WOULD MAKE YOU STRONGER THAN ACHILLES IF YOU WERE NOT STRONGER THAN A GUY WHO IS NOT EVEN A DEMIGOD.

But well, Hector, Patroclus and Achilles are all characters I adore. Aeneas I don't have a strong opinion of, truth be told (no, I haven't read The Aeneid). And yes, this post is completely immature. I've made many posts giving serious opinions, let me be honest about how I felt in these scenes even if they weren't written to be funny.

[witchygagirlwrites]

Broken Bonds-Part 25

Greg "Mouse" Gerwitz x Reader, (Eventual) Jay Halstead x Hailey Upton

While Mouse is at training intelligence tackles a case that helps you figure out that something might have been helping yours and Jay's friendship reform. (Upstead rises?)

A new balance meant so many things for your life. Mouse fully being back in it for one, yeah he was in Georgia currently but you talked to him every morning and every night. He’d text you throughout the day and both of you now used the video call option on your phone regularly. It also meant Addy getting used to spending nights split between your place and Jay’s.

You knew that the one and one thing wouldn’t hold when she got older but for now? She was young enough it didn’t bother her any, besides the fact that the dark circles under his eyes had faded in the last couple weeks and his smile was starting to return meant the world to you. He’d even started to joke around with you at work again, you knew things weren’t back to where they were and there was a chance they would never be but he was trying and you loved him for that.

Jay had Addy the night before so waking up was a bit of a struggle without hearing her over the monitor. You stretched out your muscles, the gym was very much calling your name. That heavy bag needed hitting. Maybe Hailey or Stella would want to go with you? You reached for your phone about the time a text came through and you smiled when you saw the photo of Mouse with his longer hair he’d sent you before he’d had to get it cut for training pop up before you clicked the message Good morning to the most beautiful detective that ever walked. I love you. Have a good day. Stay safe you shook your head and texted back Don’t know about the most beautiful but from you I’ll take it. I love you too. Call me tonight? His response came through almost immediately Of course. Give Addy a hug from me

You sent a text to Stella and Hailey to ask if one or both wanted to go to the gym with you then got up to get ready.

Once you were dressed you came back to the text thread with the two to see Stella had texted Sorry honeybee early meeting at the station but Hailey had texted I’ll meet ya there Wifey 

You replied to Stella telling her to have a good day and you loved her then asked Hailey when she wanted to meet.

“It actually does feel better starting the day” Hailey laughed as the two of you walked up the stairs into the bullpen. Jay looked up from the file he was reading over and raised an eyebrow “Do I want to know here or?” you grinned “I took her to the gym with me, introduced her to the beauty of beating the hell out of the heavy bag before work” 

He looked from you to Hailey “That’s terrifying. The two of you, tore loose in a boxing gym” She laughed “What is it Halstead? Worried we may team up on you?” he shook his head “No, I know better than pissing either of you off” she grinned “Good. I’d hate for Addy to know her daddy got his ass kicked by her mommy and her auntie Hayhay”

He cut his eyes at you “Auntie Hayhay?” you shrugged “Everyone has kind of figured out she’s narrowing in on talking age or first words age and so they’re shortening or making their names easier” he looked back at Hailey then nodded slowly “Ok then”

Adam raised his hand “How the hell do I shorten Adam?” you shook your head “Easy, Ruz” he shrugged “I’ll take it” Kevin grinned “She gonna want her uncle Kev anyways Ruzek so don’t worry about it”  the two of them started in on who would be her favorite uncle out of the unit and you shook your head. 

You caught Jay’s eye and he smiled “They’re idiots but they love our daughter. That’s what counts right?” you smiled “Like you said we built her a strong family” for the first time since he found out you’d slept with Mouse again you didn’t see pain in Jay’s eyes when he looked at you.  “I think we’re doing pretty well for her” 

“Didn’t I teach you most of this crap?” you asked Kevin, tossing a ball up piece of paper at his head before glancing back at your computer screen. You caught his grin out of the corner of your eye “Yeah but you’re better at it” 

You spun around as your mouth fell open “No sir! We do not do weaponized incompetence around here! Get your ass to this screen!” you pushed away from your desk and he laughed before scooting his chair around to take your place. You watched him go through the programs, making sure he hit all the right steps. You finally had someone you could call if you got stumped, he couldn’t run it but he could talk you through other ways.

A ding chimed from your computer and you clapped your hands “Lookie there Kev. You did it all by yourself” he shook his head with a laugh “I love you but you’re kind of mean to me at times” you shrugged “But you love me, that’s what counts”

You walked over to lean over him and look at the screen “So much for his ass not being anywhere near the crime scene. He lights up the board. His phone and his car frequented the area. We just tripped him up on one lie, lets see what other lie Jay and Hailey can trip him up on”

__________

You stood up and walked back to the interrogation room they had the suspect in and opened the door “Can I speak with one of you?” Jay and Hailey glanced up then at each other. They shrugged “He isn’t going anywhere” then they both stood to follow you out into the hallway.

You glanced back towards the closed door of the room before saying “We just rolled his ass up in one lie. He lit up the board for the crime scene surrounding area, almost like he was scoping it out leading up to the drugs rolling into town” “That makes him seem alot higher up on the food chain than we originally thought” Jay said and you nodded “Which makes me think, if he was why would he lie. Most of em are cocky about it. This guy was scared almost. I think you two may be able to take this and flip him. Get us a meeting and access to the man actually bringing in the fentanyl” Hailey winked at you “We’ll get him to flip babe” Jay nodded “Just give us a little time sweetheart. We’ll have this asshole ready to give us everything”

You watched them walk back in and hoped like hell they flipped him. This was what you needed, a man on the inside. So far this crap had killed half a dozen but the number of OD’s were increasing daily. The crap wasn’t cut, it was too freaking strong and what was cut was done so with crap like bug repellant. This guy was an ass but the guy he was working for? He was a fucking bitch and you meant that in the absolute worst way possible.

_____________

You walked back out to your desk, everyone turning their eyes at you as if you were supposed to know right then and there what was going on. You sat down and started checking your emails. You were halfway through clearing them out when Hailey and Jay came walking out of the back hallway. You cut your eyes up at Jay and he gave a slight nod. They flipped him. The unit now had a snowball’s chance in hell of getting this crap off the street. 

“What now?” you asked and Hailey sighed “He needed buyers” you desperately didn’t want to go back under and knew Jay felt the same. “We’ll do it” Kim offered and you cut your eyes at her “What?” she nodded “Me and Adam or me and Kev. We can do it” Yeah like that would make you feel better, not at all. Hailey shrugged “Said he likes rich white couples with security guards. Sounds to me like all three of you may be able to do this” 

“What about me?” you asked and Jay pointed between him and Hailey “You’ll be in the surveillance van with us. We’ll be recording the buy and wanting to call in backup when it’s all going down” you nodded “Ok, sounds like a plan. Who’s telling Voight?” “Tell me what?” Hank asked from Jay and nearly made all of you jump in surprise. 

“Guy flipped. He’s willing to play the middle man and get us a meet. Ideal clientele is rich white couples rocking security” Hailey explained. He nodded “Kim, Kev and Ruzek?” “Yes sir” you replied. “Ok. Run with it”

You laughed, chasing Addy across the living room. She’d started crawling and was already a professional at putting you through your paces. “Adeline Halstead! Come your little butt back here!” she giggled harder. She was mumbling as she crawled, different sounds coming out. Leave it up to you and Jay to produce a kid that turned out to be an early crawler and looked like she was going to end up being an early talker too. 

Her dark curls bounced along with her and you laughed as she made it to the pillows you’d laid out. You could only imagine when she started walking. When you picked her up from daycare Chloe had warned that she was being a little menace with the crawling. Jay had a bruised shin from chasing her and catching the corner of the wall but then again he somehow worried more than you did. She had been a daddy’s girl since she started moving and it seemed like that would never change, not that you wanted it to. You adored how much Jay loved her. That man was the most amazing father you’d ever seen.That was why you were working so hard on a balance, on fighting to rebuild your relationship with Mouse and your friendship with Jay. The love you held for them both was too important to you.

“Addy! We can go meet hayhay for dinner!” you called out and she stopped to look at you. You tilted your head to the side. “Baby girl? Do you like hayhay?” she giggled and you laughed “I’ll be damned. Did Hailey just win when it comes to people outside me, daddy and stelstel?”

She started crawling back to you and you held your arms out for her “Come on baby” she made it to you and fell against your thigh. “Oh my big girl!” you cooed, scooping her up.

__________________

“I won!” Hailey grinned from across you where she sat in the booth holding Addy who was picking at the pasta you’d gotten her. “I knew you were going to rub that in” she nodded “Oh I’m calling Jay as soon as I leave here! Baby girl recognized my name?” you laughed “Or she recognized the word dinner or was just tired of the game” she shook her head “Nope, she wanted her hayhay” she leaned over to nuzzle her nose at Addy’s chest “Isn’t that right little miss?”

Addy laughed and you felt your heart jump hearing it. Hailey was so fucking adorbale being so happy at something that honestly could be a coincidence but you were not about to take it from her. No way, no shape no form were you going to try to diminish anyone who found that much joy in thinking your daughter had a recognition of them.

“She knows who takes care of her daddy in the field, same reason she likes uncle Kev” you laughed and Hailey nodded “Exactly. Uncle Kev protects mommy and Hayhay keeps daddy in one piece”

_______________

After dinner you could already hear Hailey calling Jay as you loaded Addy into your jeep. “Jay! Addy recongized my name! She wanted me!” she bragged and you shook your head as you buckled Addy in then closed her door to turn to see Hailey grinning brightly. You couldn’t hear his side of the conversation but her smile and the look in her eyes stopped you mid words forming on your lips. That didn’t look partner calling partner happy, did it?

Was Hailey starting to develop feelings for Jay? You’d been back with Mouse for almost two months, they worked together daily, you knew first hand Jay was an amazing man.  You would not be nosy, nope. Her smile though, that warmed your heart. Seeing anyone find happiness in this world? It was worth it.

“Night Hails. Tell Jay I said night” you called out and she waved “Night wifey. Love ya and Jay says night” you climbed in your jeep and buckled up before turning the engine over. She headed for her car and you headed home.

______________

Addy was already fast asleep and you were sitting in your bed when your phone rang with a video call. You swiped to answer and a smile slipped onto your face the moment you saw Mouse “Hey baby” “Hello beautiful. Where’s little miss? Already asleep?”

You nodded “She’s crawling so much. Jay has a bruise the entire length of his shin from slamming into the wall” he grimaced “Damn, though doesn’t surprise me when it comes to her. He’d do anything to try to keep her safe” you felt your heart flip hearing him talk so fondly about Jay.  “How’s things in the peace state?” you asked and he groaned “I’m ready for this to be over already. I’m relearning so much crap I already knew just so they can say I know it. I want to be home full time in Chicago”

You felt a smile slip onto your face “Why Mr Gerwitz, it sounds like you got someone you want to get home to” he grinned “Oh yeah. She’s gorgeous, detective with the CPD. Got the cutest kid and to be honest? There’s not a lot that could keep me from coming home to her” “Wow,not even two months back together and it's that serious?” you teased and he shrugged “Two months back together but she’s had my heart from the moment I laid eyes on her”

You felt your heart flip “I love you Greg, so damn much” “I love you too sweetheart, so damn much” you and him ended up talking for the better part of an hour before he had to go. After you hung up with him and plugged your phone in you went and checked on Addy then crashed yourself. The initial meet was scheduled for the following day.

Why the hell did the surveillance van feel like it was so damn small? Oh yeah, the new one had less space in the back and more equipment. The more equipment part was a really good thing, the less room part was proving to be a really bad thing. 

You had helped Kevin wire Kim and Adam then wired Kevin yourself back at the precinct. It wouldn’t pick up on most equipment unless they had some N.S.A. shit going on. You, Jay and Hailey had gotten here and parked to get into position and to triangulate getting patrol in the areas they needed to be in should things go south and your people need an extraction.

You and Jay were sitting in the back of the van, watching the multiple monitors of the country club, yes country club where the meet was happening. Hailey had slipped out to talk to Voight. “This place costs more than my jeep did every freaking month” you mumbled and Jay laughed “It costs more than your jeep and you can’t even get a burger” you nudged his shoulder with yours “That’s what I’m saying!” and saw a smirk slip onto his face. Every time you managed to get a smile or the slightest of reaction out of him you felt like you’d won the damned lottery. Rather you were meant to be with him or not you had so much love in your heart for the man next to you, you truly loved him and the time you’d spent with him barely able to look at you? Barely speaking to you outside of it having to deal with your daughter? It had torn your heart apart.

____________

The back door cracked open and Hailey slid in “Seller just arrived. Six patrol cars are in place” she closed the door and looked around at the limited space before shrugging and sliding into your lap. You reshifted your hips to comfortably support her weight and slipped your arms around her waist to still be able to type.

Jay sat staring at the two of you until you both slowly turned your head to look at him “Yes Mr Halstead?” he motioned with his hand between the two of you “Why does this continue to happen at every given chance? Every time I turn around one of you is on the other or you’re cuddling?” You grinned at him from around Hailey’s back “Are you wanting to sit in my lap Jay?” he shook his head “No thanks sweetheart” and turned his eyes back to the screen so you asked “Or are you wanting Hailey to sit in yours” and saw a blush creep up his neck but before either of them could say anything else the sell started happening. 

All of you turned your eyes to the screen and you pulled Hailey’s radio off her hip “Patrol be ready” “Copy that”

The initial meeting turned into the seller wanting Kim and Adam to come with them to their warehouse which was exactly what you wanted. “Patrol, we're on the move. Keep ears on the radio for your new positioning” you spoke across the radio as Jay went to the front to drive the van and Hailey hopped out to go hop in with Voight.

With any luck this thing would be wrapped within a couple hours and the fentanyl would never get the chance to hit the streets of Chicago.

___________________

You stood between Jay and Voight as all of you geared up behind his SUV. Kim had changed into the change of clothes you bought her because she’d been stuck in a dress. “We go in fast, hit em hard and clear em out. We know what we’re doing. Get it done” 

You bumped Kevin’s shoulder as you took your long gun from Jay “Let’s get it” he nodded “I got you” 

The total amount seized between drugs and money recovered was two point six million. A big haul even for intelligence. The haul wasn’t what mattered, hell the bust wasn’t really what mattered. Getting the damned dope out of the street. That was what mattered. No more people would be dying from this particular asshole.

You were heading out to your jeep when you heard Jay calling you. You turned to see him headed your way “Don’t you need to get going to pick our daughter up?” he nodded “I was going to ask if you wanted to get dinner with us. Talk about Halloween?” you smiled “I’d love to. Where are we eating?”

__________

You and Jay were sitting in a corner booth, both of you turned with a knee bent on the seat and Addy between you “Is Mouse coming home that weekend?” he asked and you cut your eyes up, you understood Mouse still being a sore subject between you and Jay but he smiled slightly “I’m just asking sweetheart, no ulterior motive. I’m trying, not just for her. I miss you. I miss this, us being able to just be us without it being weird. We have been in each other’s lives for so long I don’t know how to not have you in my life like this”

You smiled “I miss you too Jay. I love you, you’re my best friend and mean the absolute world to me. He has the option to fly home that weekend” he nodded “I think he should. If he’s going to be in your life, he’s going to be in hers””Ok. I’ll tell him” you said and he nodded then a grin worked its way onto his face “How do we shorten Mouse anyways? Mou?” 

You barked out a laugh, not only at the question but from the look on his face “I guess? Whatever works” he shrugged. You rolled your bottom lip between your teeth before saying “Ya know on Halloween it would be me, Mouse, Kelly and Stella with you. Why don’t you see if Hayhay wants to come too?” his eyes flew up to yours and you grinned “Just as your partner and friend and as someone who loves our daughter of course” you clarified with a wink.

The smile he gave you made your heart flip. God you loved the fact that Addy had gotten his smile. You had always hoped she would. “I’ll ask her” you grinned “Good. I’ll find the costumes” his eyes widened “Dear lord I forgot about agreeing to that” you laughed and laid a hand on his knee with one bracing Addy’s hip as she danced with the music in her head apparently because the restaurant played none “Too late. Do you love me?” he nodded “You know I do” 

“Then you have to trust me” you laughed and he shook his head “Sweetheart I fear every time you have ever told me to trust you”

@desimarie12

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