#I am mildly tipsy and I’m gonna cry about them

[thatgirlonstage]

Sebaciel are in love. Did you know.

[puckinghell]

Acts Of Service | Elias Pettersson

Summary: When people have different love languages, sometimes it’s hard to understand what the other is trying to say. 4 times Elias shows you he loves you, and the 1 time you tell him.  Words: 7.5k (whoops) Note: This concept was very interesting to explore. Also yes, this entire thing was written because of that one picture of Elias in that blue sweater stepping out of the car like a fucking GQ model. 

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(Some time ago)

“Didn’t you say there’s an apartment free in your building?” Brock asked as soon as you answered the phone, forgoing the “hello”.

“Hello, Brock, my very good friend, how nice to talk to you! How are you doing?” you deadpanned.

At least he had the decency to sound ashamed. “Ah, yes, hi. Sorry. I’m just in a hurry and it’s important.”

You frowned. “Why? Are you looking to move?”

“No.” Brock laughed. “Stetch would kill me. No, it’s about the rookie. Petey? I told you about him. Swedish, quiet, best fucking hands in the league.”

Yes. Brock had told you about the rookie, although you still thought it dumb to call him that. Brock was basically still a rookie himself.

“What does that have to do with my apartment building?”

“He said no to having a billet family but everyone on the team thinks it’d be good for him to have someone to kinda look out for him a bit. He’s never been to Canada before this, you know, and he’s never lived on his own either. His English isn’t that great and everything is new for him. And since you’re such a caring, loving person, we thought…”

“You thought I could babysit him?” you finished for Brock.

“It’s not babysitting. Just, being friendly if he needs anything. Obviously we’re there for that too, but it’d be nice to have you so close by.”

Close by would be an understatement: the free apartment was across the hall from yours.

You weren’t sure if this sounded like something that you would necessarily want to do, but you did feel a bit sorry for Elias: you’d met him at a team thing earlier that week and he’d looked completely lost in the midst of all the Canadian hockey slang that you barely managed to follow, even after having been friends with Brock for years. He mostly kept to Eagle, spoke in Swedish, and his eyes flickered nervously across the room whenever anyone else approached him.

“Fine,” you sighed, “I’ll talk to my landlord. But you owe me, Blondie.”

Brock was happy enough that he didn’t even call you out on the nickname.

1. 

“Have I told you lately how much of a lifesaver you are?” You lean across your desk, resting your chin in your hands. Elias looks mildly amused as he hands you the papers.

“Nearly every day,” he says, “but then I save your life every day, so that seems fair.”

You grab the papers from his hands.

“You’re a lifesaver and the love of my life, Petey.”

You think back to when Elias just moved into your apartment building, only because Brock thought he needed someone to look after him. You could laugh, now, thinking about how wrong he’d been.

Elias is the most self-sufficient, independent person you know. You don’t think he’s ever needed anything from anyone. Like in hockey, where he can make the play and score the goal all at the same time, Elias has his life together.

Unlike you.

Despite the fact that Elias hadn’t needed much help from you, you had become very fast friends. His quick witted sarcasm always managed to make you laugh and he liked how upfront and honest you were with him about things. It was easy, too, to spend time together. With him living just across the hall, you found yourself wandering to his apartment whenever you were bored, and he showed up at yours often when he didn’t feel like cooking.

Just because he could cook, didn’t mean he always wanted to.

And ever since the two of you had become friends, Elias had your back. When you needed someone to water your plants, or feed your cat Puck – Brock had named him – or, apparently, bring you the important work papers that you forgot at home after having worked on them all weekend.

You groan as you flick through the papers. “I thought I was going to die. Without these I can’t finish my presentation.”

“When is it?” Elias asks, eyes searching behind you. You know he’s looking out for your asshole of a boss, who will use any excuse to yell at you, especially the unannounced visit of a friend.

“Tomorrow. I got all the content in these papers here, but I still have to make the PowerPoint.” You sigh. “It’s still so much work.”

“Oh.” Elias’ face lights up. “Almost forgot. Brought you this.” Triumphantly, he reaches down and comes up with a paper bag from your favorite coffee shop.

The words fall off your lips in a gasp. “You didn’t!”

“Strawberry scone and a large caramel macchiato with soy milk.” Elias grins. “I also got you a chocolate chip cookie for later.”

“Marry me,” you proclaim, as you make grabby hands for the bag. The coffee is precisely what you need and your mouth is already watering at the idea of the food.

“Get me a ring, then,” Elias jokes, as he starts getting up from the chair.

Something tightens in your stomach, so you quickly take a bite of the scone: anything to push those feelings to the side. It works a little, and at the very least it tastes amazing.

You’re just friends. If you were gonna be anything more, Elias would’ve made a move already. Or, if you’d been brave enough, you would’ve: but he’s never said anything to make you think he’s interested and quite frankly, you’re not that brave.

“Thank you,” you say, mouth still full of scone, and Elias wrinkles his nose at that as you knew he would.

“I’m going to the store now,” he says, “anything you want me to pick up for you?”

“Wine?” you ask, hopeful. “I’m gonna need it after today.”

Elias rolls his eyes at you, but when you come home after the most grueling day at work there’s a bottle of rosé sitting in your fridge, next to a bag full of your favorite Thai take out food.

Love you, you quickly text Elias, even though you know he can’t answer because the game is about to start.

You take some time showering and putting on comfortable clothes, then situate yourself on the couch and put on the game. It has already begun, and you know it’s not gonna be an easy one, against the Bruins.

It’s not until the first intermission, when you check your phone, that you see there’s a reply from Elias waiting for you.

It’s just a simple heart emoji, but it makes your heart race anyway.

2.

“This is the worst thing that’s ever happened to me.”

“I can barely hear you.” Fiona’s tone is disapproving, and you pull your mouth away from where you’d pressed it into your arm to scream.

“I said, this is the worst thing that’s ever happened to me!”

She laughs. “It’s just a car, Y/N.”

You don’t necessarily like your job, but Fiona is one of the reasons you’re still putting up with it. She’s not just a colleague anymore, slowly turning into a friend and someone you confide into about everything – even about your Elias problem – and you love her, but sometimes you could murder her.

“It’s not just a car,” you bite. “It’s my only mode of transportation, because you know how much I hate taking the bus, and it’s broken, and I probably can’t even afford to get it fixed. And now I have to walk home, and it’s raining.”

“Well, when you put it like that,” Fiona admits.

After a long day at work, you couldn’t wait to get home and watch The Bachelor until you fell asleep, your cat in your lap. However, when you finally got away from the office and stepped into your car, it was clear the universe had different plans.

It didn’t start.

After trying approximately 15 times, you’d screamed, nearly cried, hit the steering wheel, and then went back inside to scream and cry a little more at Fiona’s desk.

“I just wanna go home, Fi.” You know you sound miserable, but you honestly can’t help it. Taking the bus always heightens your anxiety, so you avoid it at all costs: however, walking home in this pouring rain doesn’t seem like much fun either.

And Fiona can’t even bring you home, because she takes the bus to work like a normal person.

“There’s a simple solution to this, you know,” Fiona says. She starts to organize the papers on her desk, a clear sign that she’s getting ready to leave the office as well. “You could just call…”

“No,” you interrupt her, knowing exactly where she’s going with this. “I can’t call Elias. He’s got the boys over today and I won’t interrupt his fun with my misery. Besides, he does too much for me already, I can’t ask him for more.”

“Right,” Fiona drawls, “but when he hears that you were stuck here and didn’t call him…”

She doesn’t finish her sentence, but she doesn’t have to.

Elias would be furious.

One time, you were on a night out when you got a little too tipsy and didn’t realize your phone had died. By the time you noticed, all your friends had already jumped in their respective Ubers, but you had been too busy chatting with some girl you didn’t know to order yours, and now you couldn’t because you didn’t have a phone. 

You knew you could’ve asked any random person to order you an Uber, or at least to borrow their phone to call Elias – it’s not like you didn’t know his number by heart – but that felt like too much. It had been 3 am and he had a game the next day, so you decided to walk home.

When he found out the next day, he got so mad he didn’t talk to you for 4 days. Eventually, you couldn’t take it anymore and just sat on his couch pouting at him until he spoke to you again.

“Something could’ve happened,” he’d muttered, explaining to you why he got mad in the first place. “And I’m your best friend, and you should know me enough to know that I would much rather you wake me up than you walk home alone.”

You did know that, and he was your best friend, and you’d promised him you’d never do it again.

It’s only that promise, that causes you to reach for your phone.

“I’m texting him, but if he’s busy, I’m walking,” you tell Fiona stubbornly. She ignores you, which is probably fair enough.

Hey, you busy right now? Are the guys still there?

The answer comes right away. What’s wrong?

Damn, he knows you too well. You quickly explain the situation and before you know it, Elias is on his way to come get you, and Fiona is bidding you goodbye after you promise her you’re fine on your own for the twenty minutes it’s gonna take Elias to get there.

You’re just checking your email on your phone when you hear the bell at the front door.

“I’m coming!” you call out. You hurry to grab your bags and then walk quickly to the door, where Elias is standing with his car keys between his fingers.

“So Bella finally gave up, huh?” he asks, a sly little smirk on his face. He always teases you with the fact that you named your car.

“Yes, and I know you told me,” you sigh, and it’s clear that he immediately – and correctly – reads your mood.

Without a word, he opens his arms, and you gratefully fall into them, hugging him tightly to your body. There’s very little in the world that brings you more comfort than one of Elias’ hugs: although being on Elias’ couch wearing one of his old hoodies watching some stupid reality show might come close.

“Let’s go home,” Elias finally mumbles, and he holds out an umbrella when he lets you go.

It’s raining really hard, and you know he has to park his car a little bit away because there’s no parking in front of your office, so you take it.

“You could’ve just called, I would’ve ran out,” you tell him sternly, but he shrugs.

“But then how would you have gotten the umbrella?”

You would tell him you’re not made of sugar, but as soon as you step outside the rain clatters loudly against the fabric of the umbrella and you realize you would’ve really, really hated to not have it, so you stay quiet.

Instead, you walk after him as he runs to his car and opens the passenger door for you. It’s still running, and the heater is on: only then do you realize you’re quite cold.

This morning they said it would be nice outside, so you didn’t bother to take a coat.

It’s quiet in the car for a while, but it’s not uncomfortable. It’s the silence that only comes when two people understand each other, and combined with the soft music that is playing on the radio it lulls you into a false sense of comfort.

Until you realize something.

“Oh God,” you groan, “I’m gonna have to call someone to tow Bella to a mechanic.”

Elias raises an eyebrow. “Well, you could just leave her there.”

Normally you would’ve at least playfully punched his arm for the sarcastic tone in his voice, but right now you’re too busy freaking out.

“And how am I gonna get to work tomorrow? Don’t you dare say you’ll bring me cause I know you’ve got morning practice and it’s super out of your way. Fuck, why did this have to happen to me?”

You let your head fall against the window. The glass is cold against your cheek and it’s enough to stop the spiraling in your brain at least for a second.

“Hey.” Elias’ voice has lost all sarcastic edge. It’s gentle now, and he’s speaking low as if not to startle you. “Don’t worry about it, okay? I’ll call the tow truck and the mechanic and get your car fixed. And Brock lives close enough that he can take me to and from practice and you can just take my car to work.”

It’s… a reasonable solution, but once again something that Elias has to go out of his way for, even just a little bit, and you feel something warm bloom inside your chest.

“Okay,” you answer, the stress already ebbing away. “Thank you. You’re the best.” You reach out and place your hand on his knee, squeezing slightly. “Seriously. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Elias mumbles something incoherent. You think you see some color on his cheeks, but surely that’s just because the heater is on, because there’s no way he’s blushing over something you said.

You turn off the heater, and let your thoughts wander as Elias drives you home.

3. 

Traveling is fun, but traveling for work is instantly a lot less fun. You really don’t know how Elias does it.

You’re feeling run down and jetlagged when you come back from your work trip, which is ridiculous cause you flew to Toronto, not to freaking Europe. But it’s late at night and the three days you were away were so busy you can barely remember sleeping at all.

Fiona slept on the plane, so she looks a little more alive than you when your feet touch the ground at Vancouver airport.

“Is Elias coming to pick you up?” Fiona asks, as you’re both walking through the gate.

You shake your head. “I’m sure he would’ve insisted if he could, but he’s in California right now. They played the Kings tonight and they’re playing the Sharks the day after tomorrow.”

“I wish I was in California,” Fiona says wistfully. It’s cold and wet in Vancouver and it wasn’t much better in Toronto. The tiredness doesn’t help: it feels as if the cold of the night is slowly creeping into your bones.

“Come on then, I’ll drop you off.” You thank Fiona and follow her to her car. Normally you wouldn’t have minded taking an Uber, but right now you just wanna get to bed as soon as possible.

“If I fall asleep, just let me sleep here,” you mumble, resting your head back against the head rest. Fiona laughs as she starts the car.

“No way, you’ll freeze to death.” She squints outside. “Do you think it’s gonna rain?”

“It always rains,” you say, despite the fact that it’s not raining at the moment.

Fiona turns onto the highway. “So, are you finally gonna put up that bookcase you bought?”

Involuntarily, you groan. “Stop, don’t remind me.”

Your old bookcase is big and ugly, and it has been a thorn in your eye ever since you moved in. The person that lived there before you left it there, and you only kept it because you couldn’t really afford not to.

Four weeks ago, you finally allowed yourself to buy a new, prettier bookcase.

But…

“It’s just so big,” you whine, repeating the excuses you’ve been giving Elias every single time he raises a judgmental eyebrow at the old bookcase still standing in your living room. “It’s gonna take forever to take it apart and then it’s gonna take me even longer to somehow get it all downstairs and get rid of it.”

“And then you have to build the new one,” Fiona nods understandingly. “And you’re not good with furniture.”

“Hey,” you protest, but it’s weak. You’re not good with furniture, which was proven when you tried to help Fiona move in and didn’t manage to help her put together anything at all. Instead she ended up with a table with three legs. 

You even tried to read the manual, but it’s just not your forte.

“I’ll do it,” you add, “I promise you I will. Just, maybe not this weekend…”

Fiona laughs, but she doesn’t call you out on the fact that it probably won’t happen during the week either.

Finally, you arrive at your building. You can’t wait to go to bed, and you thank Fiona multiple times before dragging your luggage upstairs. When you open the door to your apartment, Puck comes running up to you, meowing and weaving between your legs.

“Don’t be dramatic,” you tell the cat sternly. “Petey sent me many pictures of you sleeping in his lap and I know he feeds you chicken when he thinks I won’t notice, so you got spoiled this week.”

You lovingly scratch Puck’s ears, before flicking on the light and kicking the door behind you in the lock.

Instantly, you notice the difference.

Your apartment isn’t big: real estate in Vancouver isn’t cheap and your job isn’t great. You got this place mostly for the location, and you like the big windows in the apartment and how it manages to get in light even during the darkest of winter days.

One corner of your living room, however, was always darker than the others. The bookcase took away the entirety of the white wall, and it created a dim lit, sad looking corner.

Now, it’s open and bright, as your new bookcase stands proudly in its place.

There’s only one person who would’ve done that.

The phone rings a few times, but you know the Kings game ended a while ago so you let it ring. After a while, Elias picks up.

“Sorry for the background noise,” is the first thing he says. “We’re on the plane. Taking off in a few minutes, probably.”

In the background, you hear some yelling. Probably Jake.

“You put up my bookcase,” you blurt out, ignoring Elias’ statement. “You put it up and all the books are in it and the other one is gone.”

Elias sounds a little smug when he answers. “Well, it’s not like you were ever gonna do it.”

“Thank you.” To your own horror, you can feel tears burning behind your eyes. “Elias, seriously…”

“It’s nothing.” You can hear Elias’ smile even over the phone: you know everyone always makes fun of his deadpan tone when he talks to media but with his friends, his voice always betrays everything he’s feeling. “I know you were worried about it, and I know how much you hated that old one.” He laughs. “I get why now, by the way. It took me and Brock like four hours to get that thing out.”

“Brock helped too?”

“He did.” Elias is silent for a while, but in the background you hear another voice. “Brock says to tell you that I forced him. But that’s not entirely true.”

Entirely. You know Elias definitely did force him.

“Tell him thank you too.”

“He says you’re welcome,” Elias says, quick enough that it makes you think Brock didn’t say that at all. “We’re about to take off so I have to put my phone on airplane mode. But call me tomorrow okay? I wanna hear about your work trip.”

“Okay.” For some reason, you can still feel the lump in your throat. You didn’t notice it momentarily, while you were focused on Elias’ and Brock’s bickering, but now it’s back, and with a vengeance.

Fuck. You just…

“I miss you.” You blurt it out before you can stop yourself and if anyone would ask, you would blame the exhaustion and the fact that Elias can’t see how wet your eyes are over the phone.

“I’ll be back soon,” he answers softly, and his voice is gentle in a way that makes you think he knows about the tears, anyway. “And when I am, we’re gonna take a whole night to eat food and stare at that bookcase, because it needs to be appreciated after the effort I had to put in to build it.”

You laugh before quietly saying goodbye to Elias and hanging up the phone.

In the kitchen, Puck sits in front of the fridge. When you open it there’s a pan with chicken.

For Puck the note next to it says, and you send Elias a picture of Puck with his chicken.

“He spoils you,” you tell your cat. You decide to ignore the fact that he kinda spoils you, too.

4. 

When you open the door to your apartment, you’re met with the smell of garlic.

After yet another shitty day at work, you can already feel the lump in your throat building again. You didn’t even tell him, this time. In fact, you carefully avoided his texts because you knew he’d clock that something was wrong.

Fuck. That’s probably where you went wrong in the first place; usually you never ignored Elias’ texts.

“Hello?” you call out into your own apartment.

There’s soft music playing and there’s light coming from the living room, but the amazing smell that tickles your senses is clearly coming from the kitchen, so that’s where you go.

Elias is standing at your kitchen counter, chopping a carrot.

“Hey,” he greets, smiling your way. “I’m making dinner.”

It’s almost too much, how domestic it looks. And how right: like he belongs there in your space, waiting for you to come home.

Suddenly there’s the overwhelming urge to go towards him, so you do. His arm immediately lifts, creating space for you in the crook of his body, and you slip under his arm easily.

“How did you know?” you mumble into the fabric of his worn Canucks hoodie. It smells like him, a scent that reminds you of home as much as your mother’s signature dish.

“You didn’t answer my texts,” Elias hums. His arm tightens around your body. “So I figured you could use some good food and a bath.” His head motions towards the general direction of the bathroom. “I’m running it as we speak.”

God. You love him.

It hits you, then. You knew you had a crush on him, knew you wanted to kiss him and hold his hand and feel his hands on you. But it’s more than that, now.

It’s the realization that you want to share everything with him. The ups and the downs. The bad nights and the bright mornings. You want him in your kitchen, but more than that, you want it to be his kitchen, too.

Fuck. You’re so royally screwed.

Because he does this, and he does so much for you, but he’s never said anything, anything at all, to indicate that he wants that. Or has even considered it, thought about it.

Maybe it’s never even crossed his mind. Maybe he takes care of you like he would take care of a sister.

“Hey.” Elias’ voice is gentle as it pulls you out of your thoughts, back down to earth. “You’re shaking. Go take a bath, and I’ll finish dinner, and then we’ll watch How I Met Your Mother. I wanted to watch the next episode but I waited for you.” His grin is a little lopsided. “Isn’t that chivalrous of me?”

It is, and normally you would tease him for it, but you can’t really think or speak, so you just nod.

“There’s wine in the fridge, if you want a glass,” Elias says. He holds out a wine glass, already waiting for you on the counter.

And who cares that it’s only a Tuesday: you deserve it, damn it, so you open the fridge to find the wine.

You’re met with more than just that.

“You bought groceries?” you ask, your eyes traveling through your fridge. You hadn’t gone grocery shopping in like a week, and when you left for work this morning the fridge was basically empty. Now it’s so full you wonder how you’re gonna close the door.

“How else was I gonna cook anything? You only had cat food left,” Elias tuts. You’re not surprised to find Puck at Elias’ feet, waiting for him to inevitably slip him some human food.

“Did you get…”

“Your coconut yoghurt? Yes.”

He did, and he got basically all your staples, and nothing you wouldn’t buy yourself.

“Honestly,” you say, as you finally reach for the bottle and pull your head out of the fridge. “I don’t know what to say, Petey. Thank you. I had such a sucky day and now it’s already endlessly better.”

This time you know you’re not imagining the flush on Elias’ cheeks.

“It’s fine,” he says. “You should go take that bath before it goes cold.”

You want to say more: to tell him time and time again how amazing he is, how much he means to you, how thankful you are. But you know once you start, you can’t be trusted to not say the one thing you don’t think he wants to hear.

So you say nothing, and simply go to take your bath.

+1

But you think about it.

You think about it all throughout Christmas, where you don’t see Elias at all. You think about it during NYE, when you get a drunk SnapChat from Elias with his brother, right at midnight.

At least, you figure, he’s not kissing any girls.

You’re not kissing any boys, either. You’re at a NYE party with Fiona and it’s fun, it is, but it’s not the same as it would be if Elias wasn’t all the way in Sweden.

You miss him like a limb, and you know it’s not fair because he rarely gets time to go home to Sweden and he deserves that time with his family, but you can’t say you didn’t wish his time off ended already.

When it finally does, it’s not Elias you see first. Troy is throwing a late New Years party, just to welcome everyone back to Vancouver as they get ready to start the season back up, and when you arrive at his house it’s early enough in the evening that there’s only a handful of people there.

“Y/N!” Brock calls out, opening his arms to give you a big hug as you enter. “Missed you!”

You laugh. “Get off of me, you giant. I’m gonna drop the wine.”

“Not the wine,” Troy says dramatically, tearing it out of your hands. His eyes are sparkling when he thanks and hugs you, and then Brock is ushering you into the living room, where Jake is talking with Quinn.

Or talking at Quinn. To be honest, you never really know when Quinn is paying attention.

“Y/N!” Jake exclaims, much like Brock had. “I’m glad you’re here, we need your input on something.”

“Okay?” you ask, curiosity instantly taking over. Whenever Jake and Brock get together, it promises to be an interesting evening.

“We’re trying to decide Brock’s love language.”

It’s sudden enough that you laugh. “His what?”

“Love language,” Jake explains. “Like, how he shows people he loves them. He says it’s quality time, but I think it could be physical touch. He’s always touching people.”

“Jake is deflecting because his love language is physical touch,” Brock scowls. “I think I know my own love language, Tuna.”

“Hold on.” Unfortunately, you have to press the pause button on their discussion. “What options do we have?”

You’ve got no idea where they got this from, but it doesn’t really matter. You’re always down to share your opinion on stupid stuff with your favorite boys.

“There’s gifts, quality time, physical touch, words of affirmation, and…” Brock pauses, and you can nearly see the wheels in his head turning.

“Acts of service,” Quinn offers, which proves that he was actually paying attention.

“Mine is physical touch,” Jake says determinedly. “When I care about someone, I always wanna be touching them, and when I’m in love with someone that’s like twenty times worse.”

“Poor girl,” Quinn mutters, and the conversation gets paused in order for Jake to put Quinn in a headlock.

“I think yours is quality time, actually,” you tell Brock when Jake is done murdering the rookie. “Your ex was always on her phone during your date nights and I remember it drove you crazy.”

“See,” Brock says proudly. “Quality time baby. If I’m there I’m there.”

“What about yours, Huggy?” Jake asks. “Physical touch would make sense, since you’re called Huggy.”

“I’m not called Huggy,” Quinn deadpans. His face is devoid of any emotion, but you know him well enough to recognize the mischievous twinkle in his eyes. He reminds you of Elias, when he does that. “And if we were going by nicknames your love language would be fishing.”

Everyone cracks up on that, and then the doorbell rings and Bo arrives.

The topic gets put on hold, then, because Bo is instantly talking about Gunnar’s first Christmas and Brock is talking about becoming an uncle again and you feel warm and happy on the couch with your wine, squeezed between Brock and Troy.

Until, a little later, you realize someone is missing.

“Where’s Petey?” you ask Troy. “Isn’t he coming?”

Troy shrugs. “Should do. But you never know with Pete.”

It’s not entirely true: if Elias promises he’ll be there, he will be there. But, to be fair, he usually doesn’t promise that to anyone but you, and you hadn’t asked him to come, this time.

You figured he just would.

“What about Petey’s love language?” Brock asks idly, not knowing he’s opening Pandora’s box for you. “Definitely not words of affirmation, huh.”

Troy laughs.

“Nah, Petey’s an acts of service guy. He’s always doing shit for Y/N.”

You would protest if you trusted your voice not to shake. As it is, you stay quiet and hope the flush on your cheeks gets mistaken for a wine flush, and not an Elias flush.

Brock brightens. “Oh, yeah! Getting her car fixed, making dinner, building her stupid bookshelf, feeding her cat… He is a typical acts of service guy.” He bumps against your shoulder playfully. “I hope you appreciate his showing of love, Y/N. He rarely does that shit for me.”

Troy snorts. “That’s cause he’s not in love with you, Boes.”

“He’s not in love with me either!” you squeak, unable to stay quiet any longer. You know if you don’t derail this trail of thought very soon, it’s gonna end badly for you.

Both Troy and Brock look unimpressed, at that statement.

“Yes, he is,” Brock says slowly, as if explaining something to an unruly child. “He drops whatever he has going on to do small things that make your life easier. That’s literally the same as him screaming I’m in love with you from the highest rooftop in Vancouver.”

“He’s not like you,” Troy continues, a little more gentle. “When people have different love languages, they don’t always understand what the other is trying to say. Your love language is words of affirmation. You’re always telling Petey how amazing he is. But he doesn’t see that as a declaration of love, or whatever. He thinks you tell everyone that they’re amazing.”

You do, to be fair, but not as often as you tell Elias. Because he’s…

Well. Amazing would be an understatement, actually. He’s everything to you.  

Things are starting to make sense, like puzzle pieces fitting into place. Suddenly, you start wondering if there’s more to his acts of service than plain friendship, or him being a good guy.

It’s not like he does stuff like that for all his friends. He helps them out, sure, but he always goes above and beyond for you, usually not even needing to be asked.

But he’s not in love with you, surely? He hasn’t said anything…

But maybe words aren’t his thing. Not like they are yours: the way you can’t stop yourself from gushing into Elias’ ear even when you know you should stop.

What if Brock and Troy are right?

You don’t get much time to think it through, because that’s when Elias finally appears in Troy’s living room, looking endlessly cool in his blue sweater, wearing his glasses. He’s sending death glares at Jake, who wolf whistles from the corner, but then his eyes meet yours and they soften.

“Hi there,” he smiles, reaching out to you. You immediately jump up and launch yourself at him, any previous conversation about the two of you momentarily forgotten as you curl your body into his, his arms tightening around your waist.

“Missed you,” you hum into his shoulder, and you’re rewarded with a grin you can feel against the skin of your neck.

“Are you sure hers isn’t physical touch?” you hear Brock ponder, and you would flip him off if you could be bothered.

You can’t. All you can be bothered doing is plastering yourself to Elias’ side and not leaving him alone even for a second, the rest of the night.

It works at least for a while, until he asks: “Do you want another drink?”

“I’ll go with you,” you say, not willing to part with him yet, and you ignore the knowing look Brock shoots you as the two of you find your way to the kitchen.

Elias immediately goes for the wine, because he knows you better than anyone else.

“I asked my dad about the job,” Elias mentions casually, as if it’s not a big deal at all. “He thinks he can get you an interview.”

“Wait, what?”

Suddenly your heart is ticking in your throat. Before he left for Sweden, Elias had mentioned that his dad knows a guy who works for a similar company as you’re working for now: apart from the shitty boss you have or the ridiculous low salary you get paid. It’s your job, but better, and Elias promised you he’d get his dad to ask if there were any open positions.

There were. And you sent in your application not thinking there was gonna come much from it, but now…

Something warm washes through your chest, like your heart grew three sizes. Of course he asked, of course he made it happen. Looking out for you, always and at any time, from any distance.

“It’s not a done deal,” Elias warns, oblivious to your mental breakdown. “But he said he thinks they’ll like you and he’ll put in a good word for you.”

You squeal and throw yourself in his direction once again. Elias laughs as he catches you, fingers curling in your hair where your face is pressed against his chest.

“Thank you,” you mumble.

“It’s about time you get rid of that dumb job.” You can hear the frown in Elias’ voice. “They don’t take good care of you at all, it’s not good for you.” The distaste is obvious and it’s adorable. You pull away.

“I don’t need them to,” you say, carefully. You can still hear Brock’s words in your voice, and you figure it’s worth a try, probably. “Because you’re always there to take care of me.”

Elias’ cheeks darken substantially.

“I mean it when I say I don’t know what I’d do without you, Elias.”

“You’d be fine,” Elias waves away the compliment as you figured he would. But this time you’re not backing down.

“Maybe I would be. But I wouldn’t be as happy.”

They say when you really love a person, you’ve got to show them. But you’ve never really known how to do that, instead you always use your words to tell them. But it seems like Elias isn’t believing you, not even now.

And you’ve got to fix that.

It’s not until you’re in Elias’ car on the way back home that you bring it up again. The party wasn’t really the time and place, but the conversation with Brock and the guys has been nagging in the back of your mind since it happened.

If you didn’t realize Elias’ acts of service meant something, maybe he doesn’t realize your words of affirmation mean something. And even if it doesn’t mean he’s in love with you – you’re really not that sure about that – you need him to at least know how much you appreciate him.

“You know I’m always there for you, right?” you start, carefully breaking the silence in the car. Elias shoots you a glance from behind the steering wheel.

“What?”

“Like, even if I’m maybe not as good as you are at realizing what you need me to do, if there’s ever anything I can do to help make your life a little easier or better I wanna do it. I’d do anything for you.”

It’s too honest, probably, and too much all at the same time. But Elias doesn’t look that surprised. In fact, there’s a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“You make my life better by just being you, Y/N. You don’t have to do anything for me.”

Butterflies erupt in your stomach and you wonder how you’re gonna get through this conversation. But it’s one that needs to be held, so you press on.

“What is your love language, Elias?”

Now he frowns. “Have you been talking to Brock?”

Of course Brock talked to Elias before he talked to you. The traitor.

You decide to ignore that, for now. You’ll talk to Brock later.

“You know my love language is words of affirmation, right?”

Elias shrugs. “Brock did say that, but I didn’t know what you thought it was.”

“And yours is acts of service,” you hazard a guess. You keep your eyes firmly on Elias’ face, which is the only reason you catch the slight change in his expression.

Like a wall, crossing over his features. He’s trying to protect himself, although you have no idea why. Does he not get where you’re going with this?

“I can tune it down if you want me to,” he says, a little grumpily. He’s staring straight ahead at the road, stubbornly refusing to look your way.

And oh God, he’s truly not getting it, and this is going the exact opposite way you want it to go.

Troy did say that when people’s love languages don’t match, they don’t understand what the other is trying to say. But you honestly don’t know how you can make it any more clear to Elias.

Well, except…

“I love you,” you blurt out. “Like, in love with you love you.”

The words ring loudly in the quiet car. For a second, nothing about Elias’ expression, almost like he didn’t hear you. You can almost feel your heart sink into your stomach.

Then, he pulls over the car.

It comes to a stop at the side of the road, two wheels on the pavement and two still on the road. It is, objectively, not super safe, but it’s also 3am and there’s no other cars to be seen. Very carefully, without looking at you still, Elias turns on the hazard lights.

And then finally, finally, he turns to you and kisses you.

You weren’t expecting it but it doesn’t really matter: it’s like your heart and head both light on fire, and everything outside of the car simply disappears. It’s just you and Elias, and his lips on yours and his hands on your body.

It feels right. Like it was always meant to end up like this.

After what feels like ages, he pulls away. He’s smiling, and his eyes are bright blue in the dark car.

“I thought you said those kinda things to everyone,” he admits, quietly. His thumb is rubbing your side, his eyes fixed on that spot. Almost as if he can’t really believe he’s allowed to do that.

You don’t want him to ever do anything else.

“I thought you did those kinda things for everyone,” you shoot back.

Elias raises one eyebrow. “That bookcase weighed at least 300 pounds.”

You can’t help it: giggles are escaping your lips and suddenly you’re both laughing. The tension in the car dissipates instantly, and suddenly it’s just Elias again, your best friend.

Your best friend that you’re now allowed to kiss. So you lean in and press your lips against his again.

After all, kissing is a love language you think everyone understands.

(+2)

“I’m home!” Elias’ voice sounds through the empty apartment, and you immediately leave your spot behind the kitchen counter to run into the hallway.

With a squeal, you fly towards him, and he catches you easily as you knew he would.

“Hey, babe,” he laughs quietly, pressing a kiss into your hair before returning the hug fully. “Is that my sweater?”

“Maybe,” you admit, as Elias’ hands make their way under his own blue sweater, that you definitely steal from him most evenings. “Missed you. And I’m very proud of you.”

“I missed you too,” he answers. “Watched the game?”

“Obviously.” You roll your eyes, even though you know he can’t see it with your face still buried in his shoulder. “A hat trick, huh? I think that needs to be celebrated.”

“Oh?” Elias pulls away then, one eyebrow raised and a cheeky twinkle in his eyes.

“Not like that,” you scold him, lightly punching his arm. “Or, maybe like that. But first, I made Kalops.”

At the mention of his favorite Swedish food, Elias’ face lights up. A while ago, you asked his mom for her recipe and it’s one of the only Swedish dishes you can make, but you make it well.

“Also,” you continue, as you take his hand and start leading him towards the kitchen, so he can sit at the counter while you cook as he always does, “I called the electrician so the TV is already fixed. I know you could have done it, but I decided I’d much rather use that time to hang out with you. I took Puck to get his shots at the vet and I also used my free afternoon to take your car through the car wash.”

When you reach the kitchen, you twirl around towards Elias and his arms immediately circle around your waist.

“You didn’t have to do all that,” he mutters, taking the opportunity to kiss you once more. “But thank you. I love that you took the time to take care of that for me. And I love you.”

“Look at us,” you tease, lightly tugging at the ends of Elias’ hair. “Speaking each other’s love language like that.”

“Perfect couple,” Elias agrees, and you smile back at him.

Somehow, you and Elias managed to create a language of your own: one that you could speak with nobody else. But luckily, you don’t have to.

Cause he came home to your shared apartment like he always does, and well. That’s the biggest act of service he could do for you.  

[fific7]

Dangerous and Divine - Part 20

Billy Russo x Reader

Summary: Billy Russo is an itch you don’t want to scratch. But he’s all over you like a rash.

A/N: This does not follow canon, it’s mainly fluff & lemon zest 🍋 Hopefully you’ve guessed by now that is my “Billy Russo Deserves Real Love AU” as I totally refuse to accept what happened in S2! The GIF is from Exposed, unreleased pilot show in case you’re wondering 😌... Billy vibes.

Warnings: 18+ NSFW due to sexual content including unprotected* sex between consenting adults. Some drinking & swearing.

*Irl, please don’t go wild in the country without protection.

(My GIF)

You’d just realised that - despite his little caveman episode earlier on - you didn’t ever want any man except Billy in your life.

Still gazing into his dark chocolate eyes, you heard yourself saying, “I think I’ll have that ring, please.”

You really wished you’d had your phone in your hand to take a photo of Billy’s face, because it was what they call ‘a picture’.

Never had you seen his mouth drop open so wide. He gaped at you for what felt like minutes, until he stuttered, “Th... the ring???” You nodded, “Yeah.”

He grabbed your hand and stood up, moving quickly out of the booth and dragging you along with him. Glancing at the waitress, who was looking very surprised, he said happily, “Sorry, miss. We’re gonna have to leave. Sorry ‘bout that.” She shrugged and turned away as Billy rushed to the door, you in tow.

Once outside you huffed, “Billy! Slow down! And what about lunch?!” “Nah, nah, nah. Lunch’s gonna have to wait!” “But I’m starving!” “Angel, I’ll get you lunch soon, I promise ya. Right now? I need to get you back to the apartment. Get that ring on your finger ‘fore you change your mind!”

He continued moving along the sidewalk at speed, gripping your hand tightly almost like he thought you’d try to get away. You were beginning to pant slightly as he was going at such a rate, his long legs eating up the sidewalk, and you laughed breathlessly, “Seriously, Billy, slow down!” He dropped back ever so slightly, “Nearly there, angel,” he grinned at you.

Eventually you arrived back at his apartment, Billy throwing open the door and then slamming it behind the two of you. Just as well he doesn’t have neighbours up here, you thought, otherwise they wouldn’t be very happy.

The next second, Billy’s mouth was on yours in a fiery kiss. He broke away, “Wait there, wait there!” He almost bounced over to the kitchen table and grabbed the ring box. Meanwhile, you were smiling at his goofy schoolboyish enthusiasm. Then he was back in front of you and dropping to one knee again, but this time looking happy as a clam. The ring box was held up towards you, open on this occasion, and its occupant sparkled at you as it caught the light.

A bit out of breath, he said your name in a serious tone before continuing, “....I’ve said all this to you before, but I’ll say it over and over again. As many times as you need me to say it. I want you in my life.... I’ll always want you in my life, angel. I love you so much it hurts, and I can’t be without you.” The dark eyes stared intently into yours, “Will you marry me? Please?”

This time you reached out and stroked the hand which was holding the ring box, “Yes, Billy.... I will.”

The smile which appeared on his face would’ve put the sun to shame. He leapt up, fumbling a bit as he took the ring out of the box, taking hold of your hand and sliding it onto your waiting finger. It fitted perfectly. How’d he manage that? you thought.

But when you met Billy’s eyes they were full of tears. You immediately reached up and stroked his face, “Billy.... you’re crying.” He sucked in a big breath and wiped a hand across his eyes, pulling you into his arms and just holding you close.

“Thank you,” he whispered next to your ear. “I really hope you don’t feel like I pressurised you into this, angel. It means so much to me that you said yes. But just ‘cause I wanted it so bad doesn’t mean I ignored what you said before. Hey, we can still get to know each other while you’re wearin’ that ring on your finger. I just wanted something that said to the world you’re mine.”

“Big sap,” you smiled against his chest. He chuckled, “Yeah, I’ve already admitted I am,” before tipping your chin up with one long finger. His lips hovered over yours, “You’re my fiancée now.” You nodded, “Yes I am.” His mouth gently met yours and he kissed you... softly, slowly, with love.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

After a prolonged and passionate kissing session on Billy’s sofa, you two finally made it back out for lunch. Which mightily pleased you, as you were absolutely starving by now. Billy had your hand in his and he was happily swinging both your arm and his backwards and forwards as you two walked back to the same diner you’d been in earlier.

He’d asked if you wanted to go elsewhere, but you just couldn’t face going even a little bit further away - you were sure you’d faint from hunger if you did.

The same waitress looked round from where she was leaning on the counter as you and Billy went back in, and tracked you over to the same booth you’d occupied before. Whipping out her notepad and pen, she was once again drinking in Billy with her eyes and ignoring you so a bit pettily, you picked up the menu with a flourish so that the diamonds in your ring flashed as they caught the light.

Her eyes were drawn to it - as you’d expected them to be - and widened quite noticeably. Billy was smirking at you, as he knew exactly what you were doing. He repeated almost the same thing he’d said earlier, “And my fiancée will have.....”

You hid a grin and ordered steak and chips, and Billy smiled “I’ll have the same,” at the waitress, before switching his gaze back to you a millisecond later. She looked at you, her mouth set in an irritated line and turned on her heel without another word. “And two beers, please,” you called after her. “Okay,” she said over her shoulder. You grinned over at your fiancé - your stomach leapt as you thought of him as that for the first time - “Y’know, if she worked for me, I’d fire her.” Billy nodded, smirking, “I know you would, angel. And not just ‘cause she’s got the hots for your fiancé.”

You swiped the menu at his his head, and he ducked out of the way with a joyous chuckle. You could tell that Billy was almost incandescent with happiness, and you felt glad that you’d made him really smile again.

While waiting on your food, you had a ‘brilliant’ idea. With Billy watching on with an amused smirk on his face, you took a photo of your ring and sent it to Karen.

About 10 seconds later, your phone rang and you answered it to a long loud shriek of “Ohmygod-Ohmygod-Ohmygod!” “Hi Karen,” you replied, holding the phone away from your ear and smiling at Billy.

She took a breath before saying, “So you did it! What happened to slowing down and waiting a little bit, then?!” You laughed, putting the phone on speaker, “I came round to Billy’s way of thinking.” You heard a chuckle from her, then Frank’s voice in the background, “Whass goin’ on?” Karen filled him in on the new development, he yelled something unintelligible and then suggested you all meet up for a celebratory drink. “Did you hear that?” asked Karen, “Wanna meet up for a drink?”

You looked over at Billy with a raised eyebrow, he nodded, so you said to Karen you’d meet the two of them at a bar halfway between the two neighbourhoods.

After consuming your late lunch faster than the speed of light, you and Billy headed out from the diner (you couldn’t resist giving the waitress the brightest smile as she frowned over at you while Billy paid) and walked to the bar to meet your two friends. Just as you approached it, a body slammed into you and two arms got you in a bear hug. Initially freezing in shock, you relaxed as you heard Karen squealing into your ear.

You managed to extricate yourself and as you did so, she grabbed your left hand, pulling it up to her face and squealing again, “Oh...! oh my god, it looks so good on you!” Grinning, you replied, “Why thank you,” as you made your way into the bar. Heading to an empty table, Frank went to the bar and ordered a bottle of champagne, returning to the table with it in an ice bucket. “Didn’t really see Frank as a champagne kinda guy,” you whispered to Karen. She and Billy grinned as Frank said. “I heard that!” and you looked at him apologetically, “C’mon, Frank, when was the last time you drank champagne?” He smiled, but a bit sadly, “At my wedding.”

Oh no, you thought, feeling instantly guilty. However Frank laughed now, “But if this isn’t a good time to take my second hit of champagne, I don’t know what is!” He glanced fondly over at Billy, who seemed to have a permanent smile on his face, then back at you, shaking his head and smiling, “You two.... I can’t keep up with you!”

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

After several pleasant hours of drinking, chatting and laughing, you’d all eventually left the bar and gone your separate ways. Billy was now mildly tipsy, and insisted on walking down the street with both arms wrapped right around you. Which was fine until you met people coming in the other direction, meaning you had to dodge round them in an awkward dance, pulling Billy this way and that while he just clung onto you like an extra-large koala bear.

Back at his place, you were amused to see Billy’s eyes beginning to close drowsily, so despite all the filthy promises he’d been whispering into your ear the entire walk back, you two ended up just falling into bed and going to sleep.

You weren’t sure how many hours later, but you started to surface from your deep sleep as you suddenly became aware of hands on your breasts and something hard between your legs. Your eyes slowly opened to see Billy’s big dark eyes looking down into yours and then his hand found its way to your ring finger, bringing it to his lips and kissing it. Billy had somehow managed to part your legs and manoeuvre himself between them while you were sleeping on your side. Realising that Billy was already inside you and beginning to thrust, you whispered, “Billy, you cheeky big devil!!! I’m not awake yet,” but you only heard a low laugh from him as he carried on making love to you.

He was nuzzling into your neck, kissing and licking so you decided to take what was yours and grabbed two handfuls of his hair, pulling on it. He laughed out loud, “I guess you get to do that whenever you like now,” and thrust extra deep, making you gasp. “Definitely,” you managed to say as he rolled you over onto your back and pulled your knees up. His lips moved to your breasts, and your head went back onto the pillows as his tongue did its best work.

Suddenly he hit your sweet spot, and you hauled on his hair like you were trying to rein in a runaway horse, hearing an answering “Ow!” from him. You were just smirking to yourself when your climax hit you, and your mind went blank as you became completely immersed in it. Billy kept up his fast pace until you felt him shudder and release into you, his mouth biting down on your shoulder.

He moved onto his back, but somehow managing to stay inside you for the moment even as he softened. “Sweetheart.... you know I’m happy that you like my hair, but I truly don’t wanna be bald!” he laughed as he tried to get his breath back.

“I’ll buy you a wig!” you replied, “...sorry, Billy... not gonna stop pulling your hair, you know I’m not.”

Billy smiled lazily over at you, eyes staring into yours as he pulled slowly out of you, saying happily, “Yeah, angel, don’t worry... I know you’re not!”

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

After breakfast, which involved a certain amount of kissing as well as the food items, you said to Billy that you needed to go shopping. You were just finishing a catch-up text with Jake, and noticed Billy reaching for his jacket. “No!” you blurted out, and he looked over at you in confusion and with a slightly hurt look on his face.

Billy seemed to need to be physically attached to you right now; he couldn’t stop stroking, touching, hugging, kissing you (with some licking thrown in there for good measure), so he looked really disappointed that you were insisting on going on your own. “I’ve just got a couple of extremely boring things to pick up, poppet and I don’t want to inflict that on you,” you soothed, going over to him for yet another long kiss.

“Okay, sweetheart,” he grumbled, “...how long you gonna be?” You stroked his face, “Not long, I promise.” A slightly happier look on his face, he sprawled out on the sofa and switched on the TV, so you sang out, “Bye!” and made your escape, a satisfied little smirk on your face.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Twenty minutes later, you were in Harry Winston’s Fifth Avenue store. The sales assistant was looking at you as if you’d been let out of a psychiatric unit for the day. You’d just handed her a ring made of out of a sliver of Post-It note, rolled up and sellotaped together. She took it from you, holding it between two fingers as if it might bite her.

You sighed, and decided to explain the situation to her as otherwise you didn’t think she’d take you seriously. “Look, my fiancé got me this ring....” extending your rock-laden finger towards her, “... but it was a complete surprise.” She now gave you a warm smile, recognising one of their very expensive engagement rings.

“And I want to get him a ring,” you carried on, “...and I want it to be a surprise for him too. Had to pretend I was just idly wrapping scrap paper round his fingers while I was watching something on Netflix.” It did look like something a kindergarten kid might’ve made, but you were quite proud of your improvised way of finding out Billy’s ring size.

Now she was really getting into it, leading you to a display case of big chunky men’s rings. “I’ve got something in mind, but I’m not sure you’ll have it in stock yet.” She gave you a quizzical look, and you described a ring you’d noticed recently in a fashion magazine; a fairly thin matt black titanium band, with two ultra-thin strips of platinum running round each edge. You knew that one of those chunky ones just wouldn’t look right at all on Billy’s long, slim finger.

She gave you a huge smile, “We’ve just launched some new collections, and that’s one of them! - our Midnight range. Please wait here, madam, and I’ll be right back.”

Soon you were on your way back uptown to Lenox Hill, and this time you were the one with a ring box hidden away out of sight.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

As you let yourself into the apartment and hung up your jacket by the door, you noticed that Billy had dozed off on the sofa. You loved watching Billy sleep, so perched on the edge next to him and stroked back a couple of strands of hair which had strayed onto his forehead.

He awoke at your touch, smiling sleepily up at you, “Angel, you’re back...”

You took hold of his left hand, and scrabbled around in your bag for the ring box. “Billy.... you remember you said you wanted something to show the world I belonged to you?” He gazed back at you warily, as if he thought you might’ve changed your mind while you were out. “Uh... yeah?”

“Well, snap!” you said, finally finding the box, opening it and then sliding the black band onto his ring finger.

Billy’s eyes widened, and mouth opened in surprise. “Wow!” he said, sitting up and looking at it closely, “I love it!” You breathed a sigh of relief: some guys didn’t even like wearing their wedding bands, never mind an engagement ring. “So you’ll wear it?” you asked. He nodded, “Uhuh, course I will, angel!”

He turned his hand this way and that, and you admired how good the slim band looked on his finger.

His dark eyes met yours, and he gave a low chuckle, “Ha, see...? Now you’ve got me on that leash, sweetheart!”

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

@blackbirddaredevil23 @galaxyjane @omgrachwrites @behindmyeyes-insidemyhead @ourloveisforthelovely @swthxrry

[destination-despairing]

I’ve literally never written saiouma before but Sierra is getting me into the ship and while we were talking about them I had this idea that I wanted to keep writing but my brain is busted so take this half finished ficlet thing

Shuichi had only started drinking when Kaito handed him a drink he was too polite to refuse and too curious to ignore. Whatever Kaito had mixed up tasted really good, and it was nice being able to turn off his brain for once and stop thinking, so he got a little irresponsible about how much he drank. 

Which was why when everyone else was sitting on the floor mildly tipsy and playing drinking games, Shuichi was on his knees on the bathroom floor, puking his guts out. 

Exactly where Kokichi had expected to find him after seeing how he’d been drinking all night.

“Jeez, never would have pegged you for such a lightweight, or such a boozer,” he said, leaning in the doorway with his arms folded over his chest. “That was puh-ret-y dumb of you, Shuichi.”

Shuichi didn’t answer, just threw up again and then flopped over to rest his cheek against the side of the bathtub. 

“What a mess.” Kokichi crouched down next to him. 

This was a perfect opportunity to mess with the stick-up-his-ass stick-in-the-mud, he was totally vulnerable. Still, somehow Kokichi found himself rubbing Shuichi’s back.

He kept at that until he heard quiet sniffling, and peeked over to see Shuichi’s sleepy looking eyes were welling with tears. 

“Are you crying? C’mon, don’t do that!” Kokichi huffed.

“M’such a… mistake…” Shuichi buried his head in the crook of his arm. “V’ry’thing I do… screw it up.” His shoulders shook. “Can’t ‘ven have fun right.”

“Well, duh,” Kokichi said. “That’s because this party is lame as shit! Just because Gonta looks the most of age doesn’t mean we should send him to get the drinks, jeez I swear he bought the worst shit. And whoever gave Kaito control of the music is gonna feel my wrath.”

Shuichi didn’t have anything to say to that, but he did feel another wave of nausea hit and curled in on himself, wrapping an arm around his stomach. 

“Seriously, you’re lucky you have an excuse to barf. I wanted to the minute I saw how Miu was dressed,” Kokichi continued with a snicker. “Hey, you think she got that dress from a dead hooker or the dumpster behind a strip club?”

“Why’re y’always so mean…?”

“... why not? Do I have to have a reason?” Kokichi frowned. “I’m being nice to you right now you know…”

Shuichi groaned and threw up again, his head spinning and pounding.

“That bad? Wow!” Kokichi joked, keeping Shuichi mostly upright. “Remind me to never be nice to you again.”

Shuichi managed a chuckle at that, and Kokichi hated how that made him want to make him laugh even more.

“So, listen to this Shuichi.” He helped Shuichi lean against the tub again and wiped the cold sweat from his forehead. “A bear walks into a bar and orders a whiskey. The bartender goes to fix his drink and after a bit the bear says “and cola.” The bartender asks “hey, why the big paws?” and the bear says “I dunno, idiot, I was born with them!””

Shuichi shook his head with a faint chuckle. “S’bad…” Despite the laugh his face twisted into that same sad face from earlier, and he tried to hide it behind his hand as he fought back a sob. 

He is a serious sad drunk. Man, I knew the guy repressed things but this is a lot, Kokichi thought. 

“Did you hear the one about Kaito’s claustrophobia?” he asked, internally rolling his eyes at the lame jokes he was churning out just to make some sadsack detective feel better. “He just needs a little space.”

Shuichi’s sobbing quieted, and Kokichi kept cracking bad jokes and rubbing his back. When it looked like Shuichi could sit up without Kokichi to keep him from falling over, he headed to the kitchen to grab him some water. 

“You’re so dumb accepting a drink from me,” he snickered as Shuichi drank, slight spills of water trickling down his chin. “I could totally poison you right now, you wouldn’t stand a chance.”

Shuichi took a deep breath as he finished chugging the water. The plastic cup fell from his hand, and he fell to the side. His head landed on Kokichi’s chest, and he felt so dizzy and tired he just stayed there. 

Kokichi blushed and looked away, trying his best to look annoyed. He reached a hand out, pulled it back hesitantly, and then went ahead and started stroking Shuichi’s hair. 

“You owe me big time for this. I’m gonna make you break the law or do something super embarrassing,” he grumbled, wrapping an arm around Shuichi to pull him into a more comfortable position. 

“Hey… tell me… tell me the truth.”

Kokichi raised an eyebrow and looked down at the drunken detective, who was staring up at him with those big dark eyes. 

“Are you m’friend? Or am I just fun to make fun of…? Cause I suck…” Shuichi mumbled. 

Kokichi made an irritated sound. “You’re a pretty sick master of manipulation for the good guy, you know that? Yeah, I’m your friend.”

Shuichi seemed to relax and nodded, his eyes closing soon after. 

Well, I’m trapped, Kokichi thought, realizing for the first time that Shuichi was getting pretty tall. Good thing Gonta was so keen on giving out piggy back rides, because there was no way in hell Kokichi was going to look up at all his fri… minions.

[maltedroses]

Happy Anniversary Dear, f overhaul x f reader

Chisaki, one of the most dangerous high profile criminals who was still roaming free. The soon to be queen of the criminal world. A slim curvaceous woman with piercing golden eyes that were as cold as they were beautiful, and your wife.

So what happens when your anniversary surprise is ruined.   

 Chisaki was never a high maintenance woman, well that was a lie considering how she frequently demanded the place to be spotless.

 “Dirt and grime will build up if we don’t keep this place clean, do you know how gross that is? Makes me sick”

 But other than that, she didn’t demand much, a simple woman really who would only occasionally indulge in lavish 

 or to pamper her wife. So it wouldn’t be hard to surprise her on your anniversary right?

 No. In fact it was disastrous. First you accidentally added salt instead of sugar to the dessert you spent hours making which led to you crying and while you were busy wallowing in the sadness of your mistake the meal you had in the oven burnt.

 Great, I ruined dinner, the kitchen is a mess, I don’t have time to clean the whole place and make a whole new meal, and Chisaki is going to be home soon.

 You sigh, throwing the food into the bin so much for that.

 “Fuck, what am I going to do? I practically ruined my anniversary, my wife’s going to be here soon tired and this mess is only going to make her more frustrated if the damn expandables didn’t already eat up all her patience at work” you put all the dishes in the dishwasher remembering to wash them later. “I didn’t want it to come to this but desperate times call for desperate measures I just hope she doesn’t notice” you take a deep breath before dialing a number on your phone

 “Um, hello? Is this [redacted big name Italian restaurant franchise]”

  “My work here is done” you look at the candlelit setup, the satin white table cloth without a single crease, a bottle of wine sat in a tub of ice at the center of the table surrounded by rose petals “Everything is perfect the only thing missing now is me” you look at the time  10 minutes.

It should be enough time to let you shower and get dressed, you rush over to the bathroom and get in not caring about whatever setting the water was on, taking a quick shower. You rushed out not even fully dry quickly dressing, brushing your hair as you strapped the buckles of your dress.

 “You know that’s a fire hazard, leaving candles unattended” 

 You swiftly look over your shoulder and see your wife. “Chisaki, you’re home early” you stand before your mob boss wife.

 "I am?" She hums removing her gloves, her soft hands reaching towards yours, intertwining your fingers together lowering her head. "I guess I am, considering what day it is today" she softly kisses your hand before she presents you a velvet box "happy anniversary dear"

 "Oh Chisaki, you didn't have to" you gush not even opening the box.

 "Just open it, I promise you'll like it"

 You open the box and start to cry, it was a dark wood collage picture frame. The pictures were organized in chronological order, from when you two first meet in the first year of high school, small dates and special occasions in between, to the day she proposed to you in front of the flower garden where you two technically had your first date. 

“Chisaki… this is so beautiful thank you” she patted your shoulder nuzzling her head against yours. “I know I'm not around as much ever since I became head boss and every time we do spend time together I felt that I tried to make up for my absence by buying you things so I decided to get you something more sentimental and personal.” 

You kissed her cheek “I got you something too” giggling while your hand caressed her thigh “although I think it's better if I give it to you after dinner~”

“Oh really? I was thinking about having it for dessert instead” she smirked, holsting you onto her lap, hand resting on your lower back and making its way to your ass giving it a firm squeeze. "I could just eat you up right now~” pressing her soft lips against yours. “ You outdid yourself from the looks of the table, we wouldn't want your hard work to go cold” she pouted.

“Oh right the food, yep nothing but the best for my wife” you lied between your teeth, fuck am I really giving my wife take out and passing it as my own? Is the love of my life really worth takeout to me, and on our anniversary of all days?

“_, are you coming?” Chisaki looked down at you with a mildly concerned look on her face “you look distracted, is everything ok?”

“Oh uh yeah all is fine I was just thinking about how lucky i am to have you”

“You're so starstruck, what are you in, highschool?” she jokingly jabbed.

“Me? You're the one who almost passed out trying to ask me out on a date back when we first meet” you headed over to the table taking your wife by the hand.

“I was nervous, besides the whole having feelings for someone else was new for me. I hated you for a while for making me feel weak, now I'm just glad to have met you”

“You're such a sap, I love you.”

The bottle of wine had long been gone, the two of you looked at each other with a loving gaze while feeding one another strawberries and other things.

"Let me get that for you" she pulls you into a kiss “hehe you had whipped cream on the side of your face~” her face was tinted pink and sounded a little slurred she was tipsy, not drunk, you both were and the night had barely begun.

“I know it’s a little late but if you don't mind I still have to give you your present” you teasingly lifted your dress a little slightly showing more thigh than before.

“Oh~ I like where this is going, just not on the table we eat here” she got up slowly stripping and making a makeshift trail of her clothes.

“Oh baby I’ll be eating you in a moment” giggling at your own joke. By the time you arrived at your shared bedroom, she was only in her panties and lace stockings. 

Damn, she’s so beautiful.

“Come here _, on your knees”

You crawled over to her resting your head on her lap, she gently caresses your face rubbing her thumb over your lip. “You’re the best thing I could ever ask for, now I’m going to treat you like a queen~” she grabs you by the shoulders and lifts you resting you on top of her, hands reaching over for your dress straps, soon the two of you were only in undergarments with Chisaki overhauling your bra away, she kisses you kneading your breast as you pull on the seam of her panties, pressing your thumb against her clit. 

She sucks on the nape of your neck while grinding against your hand, her juices lightly coating your hand. “Hehe, you're so wet, I'm not even using my fingers and you’re already wet. So desperate for my touch, well guess what babe, I'm gonna give it to ya” you thrust two fingers in her your thumb circling around her clit. She spreads her lips for you looking at you with pleady eyes more they beg. You lean in giving her a sloppy kiss “I'm going to push you on edge and have you scream my name, make you cum until it hurts, and make you a nice warm bath then fuck you there too.” She nods thrusting against your hand “Yes ma'am” she mewles

“Good girl” your fingers plunged deep into her moist core, her cunt quivering around your fingers. She arches her back granting you full access to her plump breasts, you take the opportunity and wrap your lips around her perky pierced nipple, sucking and biting the sensitive bud. Her nails dig deep into your skin scratching at your hips, tearing off your panties in the process.

“Fuck me_, please fuck me!” she cries wrapping her legs around your waist, her nails rakinking down your back.

“You're such a naughty girl” you harshly kiss her, pulling your hand away from her dripping cunt, reaching to a nearby drawer pulling out fuzzy handcuffs “and naughty girls need to be punished~” swiftly handcuffing her to the bed. You kiss her abdomen and pull off her panties with your teeth, your hot breath hitting her pussy. You give her folds a slow long lick ignoring her clit, she whines pressing her thighs together locking your head with them. “Playing dirty I see” you roll your eyes and nip at her labia, she gasps and quickly retracts her legs.

“You don't always get what you want Chisaki, I'm afraid this is one of those times” you flip her over “just remember you brought this onto yourself”

Smack!

The first hit lands on her ass, she hisses pulling on the cuffs shooting you a dirty look.

“Oh love don’t look at me like that” you giggle “this is your punishment after all for being naughty it's supposed to be unfair if that's what you're thinking.”

“You can be a real bitch sometimes you know that” she growled licking her lips, in the blink of an eye she waf free from the fuzzy restraints and pinned you “now it's my turn.” She grinded her pussy against yours putting all her weight against you, grabbing the metal part on the cuffs with her free hand  she turned it into a small dildo shoving it inside you.

“If  you can last 5 minutes without cumming I’ll bottom for you~” she mockingly whispers as her fingers quickly work away with your pussy, your tight muscle wraps around her fingers and the small metal inside you. Not now you wouldnt easily let her break you, but you also yearned to be fucked by her. “Just fuck me already” you sigh in defeat.

“Hmm I don't know I’m kinda tired” she fake yawned releasing you before rolling on the other side of the bed “but ill make it up to you okay? Softly gazing at you while brushing her fingers through your hair.

“Fine just because you're tired”

[hungline]

now you see me

pairings: namkook, platonic ot7   genre: fluff, light angst, non au, rated pg13  warnings: coming out, references to homophobia   a/n: to the anon who requested this, you are an absolute angel and sweetheart! sorry this took a while, but i hope you liked it as much as i liked writing it. it’s also a lot longer than i planned, but happy pride month, anon! 🏳‍🌈 words: 1523 

summary: Jeongguk’s always felt like he was hiding the real him from the rest of his members, the men who practically raised him when they were trying to raise themselves at the same time. Now he feels it’s time to show his true colors to them because they’ll always love their maknae. He is more than sure of that. 

+ tag list: @dimplemono​ @kirtikagarg​ @disrespectfulkookies​ @ksjinandtonic​✨  

After Halsey has finished her solo performance, Jeongguk carefully studies the looks on his hyungdeul’s faces. 

All six of them have grins on their faces, clapping and standing up as soon as the music had finished. Jeongguk gets to his feet as well, fighting down tears as he watches their new friend bow and walk off the stage, the dancer who played her lover in the performance, trailing behind her. 

Where they’re from, things like this are taboo. Those who do talk about it or try to showcase their views proudly, always end up getting harassed or worse. Most keep quiet, but they are there doing their best to live their lives the best they can.

Jeongguk understands. He fears every day that someone will figure out his big secret and cast him out into the world alone. That his hyungdeul will never want to talk to him again because they are too ashamed of the boy they thought they raised. The company will cast him out because it became public and he will cease being a part of one of the only things that has ever mattered to him so much: BTS.

But looking at his members, at the men who did raise him when they were still trying to figure out how to raise themselves, he knows that could never happen.

Namjoon and Yoongi are clapping the loudest, still smiling even as the crowd settles and the awards show continues. He glances at his hyungdeul from the corner of his eye, glad to find that their smiles haven’t faltered and Taehyung is excitably talking about Halsey’s performance with Yoongi and Seokjin. Jimin and Hoseok are having their own conversation about the choreo and the emotion that both Halsey and her lover conveyed. None of them falter when calling the dancer Halsey’s lover, despite her very obvious feminine form.

Jeongguk tears his gaze back towards the host as she starts to talk and smiles to himself, feeling confident and warm as a plan forms in his head.

They convene in Namjoon’s hotel room after the awards show.

All seven of them squeeze onto the two couches and wait for their food from room service to arrive. There are no cameras present and no staff members because management trusts them enough to hold a broadcast without ruining their images anymore.

It’s the perfect time for Jeongguk’s plan.

He takes a deep breath and takes the plunge.

“I’m bisexual,” Jeongguk says, loud enough to cut through the multiple conversations going on around him. “Like Halsey.” 

The silence that befalls them makes Jeongguk feel like he shouted his secret loud enough for the entire world to hear him. The others are staring at him, a few with their mouths agape and others with surprised looks on their faces, but he can only manage to look at them for so long before he starts to panic. 

No one is saying anything. Be it words of support and love or those of disgust and shame, Jeongguk would prefer anything over this deafening silence. His heart is doing its best to beat its way out of his chest and his palms are sweaty. He’s glad he was sitting down when he said because he isn’t quite sure he can actually feel his legs anymore.

He twists his hands together and feels his face flush as he looks down at his lap, suddenly ashamed. Feeling lonely.

But a hand grabs his shoulder and suddenly Jeongguk is thrust right into Jimin’s embrace. Jimin rubs his back and holds him steady as Jeongguk begins to shake, fighting back his tears again.

“I’m proud of you, Gukkie. Thank you for telling us,” Jimin says and that breaks the dam of words that his members meant to spill out before.

“Love you, Gguk,” Taehyung says, suddenly behind him as he joins the hug. “We all love you.”

Hoseok comes up behind Jimin and smiles reassuringly at Jeongguk, pressing a kiss to his forehead. “You’re still our brat maknae, Jeongguk-ah. Nothing you say or do will change that, okay? Thank you for feeling safe and comfortable enough to tell us.”

Jeongguk nods, the tears he was doing his best to fight back spilling over. Yoongi wipes his cheeks clean with a napkin and ruffles his hair. “If it makes you feel any better, so am I. I was pretty sure that I made it very obvious, but you aren’t alone, Gguk-ah.”

“Love you, brat. Be gay, do crimes, and all that,” Seokjin shouts as he shoves his face into Jeongguk’s with a wide grin spread across his face. 

Namjoon is the last and most important to join their group hug, a fond and indescribable look on his face. “Jeongguk, you’re the baby of the group. We’re gonna support you no matter what, okay? Thank you for telling us. We are all proud of you and we love you so much. You mean the world to us and your sexuality will never get in the way of that.”

Tears stream down his face, but Jeongguk ignores that. Instead, he nods and murmurs his thanks and endures the hugs from everyone until he has managed to stop crying. Their food arrives and they break apart, all of them niggling the others to get something into their system before they start the Vlive. 

Jeongguk makes sure that it doesn’t look like he’d been crying before they start and smiles wide for the camera, feeling lighter than he has in a long time.

If this worked, though, then maybe confessing another secret of his will end just as well.

When they have finished the Vlive and all the food they ordered, everyone begins to leave.

Jeongguk stays though, not looking towards his leader until the others have left.

Namjoon is already watching him, his head tilted to the side in curiosity. He obviously wants to ask why Jeongguk is still here but has decided to wait until Jeongguk’s ready to talk. 

But Jeongguk’s ready. He’s been ready for a while.

“Hyung, I wanted to talk to you,” Jeongguk murmurs, glancing up at Namjoon’s face before his gaze flickers away. “But we can do this another time if you’re tired.”

Jeongguk doesn’t actually expect Namjoon to brush him off until later, even if they are still in their performance clothes and makeup. A little tipsy from the champagne and beers they had earlier. So he isn’t surprised when Namjoon only smiles and waves his hand for Jeongguk to continue.

“I, um,” Jeongguk starts with, feeling nervous again but wanting to get this out, wanting to let the elder know how he feels. “I really like you, hyung.”

Namjoon’s smile doesn’t falter, doesn’t even change as he says, “I really like you too, Jeongguk-ah.” 

But Jeongguk only shakes his head, frowning as he thinks that Namjoon has it all wrong. “No, I mean, like you in a more than friends kind of way. I don’t expect you to feel the same way, but I’ve liked you for a really long time. You were the reason I came to BigHit because I wanted to be close to you since you were so cool, but I never thought we would end up here. I just want you to know is all.”

“Jeongguk, I already know. I could tell you had a crush on me ever since we first met and yes, I found it odd at first because no one had liked me that way before, but you did. You always have and eventually, I realized that I liked you in the same way as well,” Namjoon replies, laughing when Jeongguk only sputters in response. “It was hard not to reciprocate because you’re you and all.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Jeongguk asks, feeling mildly offended. 

Namjoon only smiles again, the fond look in his eyes from earlier returning. “I just mean that you’re really beautiful inside and out. Anyone who has ever met you can tell you how hard it is to not like you. You love with all your heart, you try your best at everything and then some. You’re always there whenever one of us needs you most or when we don’t. You’re kind and you can only wash your clothes with a specific kind of detergent. I mean that considering how amazing you are, it wasn’t all that difficult to fall in love with you.”

Jeongguk feels his breath catch in his throat. “You’re in love with me? Really?”

“Really,” Namjoon smiles.

“Oh, my God,” Jeongguk whispers to himself, his gaze flickering back to the elder when he stands and makes his way over to Jeongguk on the couch.

Namjoon sits beside him and takes his hand, lifting it up until he can press a kiss to it. “We don’t have to rush anything.”

“I know,” Jeongguk mutters, turning in his seat until he’s facing Namjoon head-on. “I know, but I really want to kiss you right now, hyung.”

“Then go ahead,” Namjoon assures him, a gentle smile showing off his dimples. “Kiss me.”

Jeongguk’s heart leaps into his throat as he leans in and does just that.