#I cried through the whole of the first five minutes

[unseemingowl]

Atal: Gets on her seedpod-wheels for the first time 

Me: Immediately bursting into tears “yes, vroom, vroom, you funky little Mulefa” 

[cannellee]

omg, i giggle like a schoolgirl whenever i read your abo hcs🤭

can i have bestfriend! mikey who comes over to the reader’s house (not realizing she’s in heat) and ends up mating & claiming her?

ty for all the juicy fics btw 😋

TOKYO REVENGERS OMEGAVERSE ☆

୨୧ alpha! mikey x omega! reader

— mikey claiming omega! reader

my masterlist : ☆

cw: sex, cockwarming, breeding kink

(it's only my third time writing full smut like this, so I hope it's not too bad!!)

you knew mikey since primary school, when innocent friendships bloomed easily. none of you knew your second gender yet, and you actually never gave it too much thought.

you grew up pretty close, the proximity of your houses making it easier for you to bond. mikey was carefree and seemed always sure of himself, these traits of his kept your future omega-self nearby.

being with him felt great. he was a kind friend despite his overly direct behaviour, he always got your back whenever school kids were being mean to you.

you guys were with each other through every stages of life. when you turned out an omega, mikey was quick to drive away students who wanted to have a taste of their freshly presented schoolmate. he was protective, never going overboard either.

it was safe to say you thought you guys would remain in a special relationship all your life. and mikey thought so too. for years, he had never seen you as something more than a friend, qualifying the protective position he took as nothing more than an amicable worry.

but lately, something had begun to shift within mikey. a subtle change that he quite couldn't put his finger on. at first, he brushed it off as nothing more than a passing phase, but days turned into weeks, and weeks turned into months and he soon began to realise that his feelings for you were changing in ways he had yet to understand.

it started with small things — the way his heart skipped a bit whenever you laughed, the way his gaze lingered longer than before when you smiled - has your smile always been this bright ? he slowly came to crave your scent, unconsciously leaning towards you and watching the way your soft lips would move each time you talked.

mikey felt a pull at his chest just by thinking of his dear friend with someone else. will they be able to treat you right, and keep you safe ? mikey was just worried. he wanted to hear your voice, to hear your secrets and make sure you were not seeing anyone.

it was a week off, so mikey called you. it wasn't unusual for you to talk over the phone, even if you had a house at a five minutes walk away from the other.

but you didn't pick up your phone. and mikey noted how uncommon it was, you always did. he tried a second time and when he was denied again, he just gave up, giving you some time. upon seeing his missed calls, you'll call him back.

but you didn't, and not even a text was sent his way. he tried multiple times after a while and grew worried. you never were this silent online, not answering him for a whole day was strange, to say the least.

so he went out, took a few brownies emma cooked with him to give him a reason to come over, and crossed the street to your home.

he didn't bother making his arrival announced ; none of you ever bothered for such formalities.

clenching the doorknob, he frowned at how it actually opened, half expecting it to be locked. still, he came in, quietly making his way into your house. it was silent and dark, with the windows all wide opened, a cold breeze hitting his skin.

confused at first, mikey softly called out your name, putting the snacks on the kitchen table and getting rid of his jacket, leaving him in his plain white tshirt. "y/n ? are you in there ?"

the absence of response pushed him to keep going, dangerously approaching your room. he stopped mid way, when a few noises came out from the end of the hallway. "y/n ? is that you, everything fine?"

as he stood right behind the door, mikey could now decipher the said noises. soft desperate cries, erratic breaths and an intoxicating smell embalming the air, seemingly seeping from every hole under your door.

mikey took a deep breath, connecting the dots and cursing himself for coming this far to you —you were in heat. the omega he grew obsessed with, was right in front of him, the wall, the only thing keeping him away from his growing urge to just burst in.

"m-mikey ? is it you ?" despite your weakened state, your friend was close enough for you to recognize a foreign smell inside your house. mikey probably didn't even notice his own pheromones started to spread, instinctively reacting to your erotic ones. fuck you smelled so good.

"I'm sorry I'll leave, I didn't know you were in heat". as overwhelming as his need to claim you was, mikey didn't want to risk your trust.

"n-no please mikey stay!" you were in a haze, too high off of your wish to to be taken to actually have any clear thoughts. and mikey knew that, but he didn't want to take advantage of you.

"I just came here to make sure you were doing fine, and give you some snacks emma made. I'll leave and lock your door, this isn't safe in your state. beside, I don't want you to regret anything, you're not thinking straight" it took a great reasoning for him to actually ignore his instincts screaming at him to just barge into your room and take you right here. breeding you until you're full of cum and exhausted to the point you can't walk straight. dirty thoughts are flooding his mind, the whole situation sending blood to his cock.

"no please, I know I won't ! I'm still clear enough to know what I want, they barely just started today. please mikey". pleas fell out from your mouth. and too overwhelmed by the consuming need for release, you can't even get up to pull him to your nest.

"or is it that you don't want to do it with me ?" mikey sighs heavily, body all tensed up. this sent a growl down his throat, you only whined in response, scared at the prospect of the alpha you desire not wanting to mate with you.

but, of course he does, that's the only thing he can think about right now. and whenever his own ruts hit, he's ashamed to admit your body is the image he pictures each time.

"please mikey, I just really need you right now. I wouldn't do it with anyone else if not you" you begged once more, voice growing even more desperate. a few salty tears rolled down your face at the frustration mikey was submitting you to.

and just like that, mikey was right in front of you. he took in your whole form, shaking and sensitive, desperately awaiting a touch.

you wore only your underwear, the heated room feeling too much. despite your opened windows, some hair stucked to your damp forehead, and the blankets were since then long gone, thrown out of your nest.

you looked heavenly in mikey's eyes. actually, you always looked perfect, not a day passed without mikey admiring your dreamy features secretly. but today particularly, something seemed different.

it was the way your eyes slowly looked up at him, lust and envy clouding your vision, and the way your body seemed to immediately attract him to you, legs spreading as if they had a mind of their own, your heartbeats quickening and scent getting progressively sweeter to tempt him even more.

there was no turning back. after witnessing such a delightful scene, mikey would never be able to turn around, close the door and act like nothing happened. you had him right where you wanted and he was more than willing to comply to your wishes now.

"please mikey, it hurts"

by now, mikey's instincts had fully taken over and an ardent desire burned inside of him, praying him to just take care of the delicate omega laying in front him.

"yes I know baby, and you did really great on your own, waiting for me to find you, all spread out and pretty". you reached out for him instantly when mikey came to join you, you emitted a satisfied purr, happy to finally have the alpha you longed for give in to your demands.

he didn't wait long before starting a short foreplay, kissing, licking and sucking every inch of your skin, leaving tiny bite marks all along your neck, insisting on your scent gland.

he brought his fingers to your entrance while continuing his assault on your neck and collarbone. he massaged it slowly, observing your reactions to know exactly where it felt good. he kept going for a few minutes before stopping, throwing away your bra and finally pushing aside your panty, giving more access to his hands.

and you felt one finger entering you, his mouth now sealed to your nipple. his tongue rolled against it, lapping expertly while drinking in your moans of pleasure. he kept bullying your heterogeneous zones, in hope to hear more of you, to see you completely break under him, just like he always wanted to see you.

"that's it baby, moan for me, let me hear your pretty voice"

and moan you did, especially with how three of his fingers were now sliding in and out of you with a sweet speed you couldn't get enough of. you had tears building up in your eyes and you watched as a string of saliva connected mikey's mouth to yours. his finger felt so great, and his mouth, now attached to your lips, turned you absolutely breathless. but still, it wasn't enough, you needed more.

"please mikey. I want you in me, please I want more" the friction of mikey's fingers felt good, but you were too far into your heat to actually need foreplay. the slick you produced was enough for mikey to just fuck you without any prep.

"I know I know baby, I'll make you feel so good don't worry" he stopped his movements, your fluids coating his fingers. he licked them, looking at your droopy eyelids.

you waited patiently for mikey to undress himself, throwing both his tshirt and your panty aside, before finally getting rid of his bottom. you watched eagerly his length revealing itself to you, a sight which only made you drool. and you could only wait for mikey to give you what you wished for, completely at his mercy.

you were now fully naked, squirming in front of mikey. he contemplated you again, your honeyed scent driving him crazy by the minute, and the way your pulsating core seemed to call out to him was very much a sight mikey could get used to if you let him.

"I've wanted this for so long, God you're so beautiful"

he let his hands travel all around your body, kissing you passionately while whispering praises of how pretty you looked.

"that's it baby, lay nice and still for me. you're doing so good". and you did, waiting expectantly, hungry for his touch and affection. you couldn't care less about your dignity, it just felt great to want him, obey him, beg him. whatever he had to offer your body, you would accept it with a smile on your face.

and with all his restraint, mikey entered you in one painfully slow thrust. you moaned louder, eyes shutting by themselves with the intrusion, and "yes, yes, yes" flowed out from your lips.

he didn't let you any time to adjust, he knew you didn't need any, and immediately started rocking his hips. he let out low growls of pleasure, mouth right next to your ear. you drank them in, feeling pleasure building up inside not only from the relentless pace he was going at, but the satisfaction that your omega had succeeded in making her alpha feel good too.

you were desperate for validation and release, clawing at his back with weak hands, legs spread wide open for your alpha. your tits bounced with each slap and mikey's hips connected with yours in a excruciatingly delightful manner.

with the way your brain was clouded with pleasure, you could only chant his name. if only you knew what your desirous pleas did to him.. knowing you'd let him to anything to you was a major turn on that kept mikey yearning for more.

"you're doing perfect, that feels incredible baby". reassuring you, he maintained his pace, capturing your mouth for a heated kiss before sucking on your skin, whishing for it to leave deep red marks.

fuck, mikey wanted to mark you, claim you and breed you in every way possible. he didn't think he would be satisfied with just one round now that he finally had you under him. he was going to take such good care of his precious omega, fucking you dumb until you can't think of anything else but him.

he felt you clenching around him, your tight hole pushing him closer to the edge. "just like that, good girl, you're gonna make me cum". and you so wished for him to cum inside you, filling you up to the brim with the seeds you desperately wanted.

slapping thighs, wet noises and erratic breaths were the only thing you could here. and the pleasure mikey granted you, the way his strong scent enveloped you and how his fingers found your clit again to help you chase your release made you see stars. not a single thought could make their way into your brain, all you could think about was the heavenly sensations you were experiencing right now and mikey's strong chest on top of you.

you begged for him as soon as you felt it come closer, scratching his back, mouth wide opened and tongue lolled out. your eyes rolled to the back of your skull and you thanked mikey for giving you this much pleasure. "that's right baby, take all of it". his thrusts were getting sloppier with each passing second, announcing your coming climax.

you both came at the same time, with a high pitched moan for you and a deep growl for mikey, which always managed to send shivers down your spine. you felt his cum flow inside of you, painting your insides with a white fluid.

and you took it all, just like he told you, hoping for more praises but too high off of his cock to do anything else. he kissed your temple, looking into your exhausted eyes while slowly going in and out of you. you both tried to catch your breath after bliss took over you.

"you did so good for me angel, such a perfect omega". you chirped happily in response, content about his satisfaction with you. you couldn't talk, heat turned you into a submissive mess.

you let him cuddle you from behind, cockwarming him to make sure you didn't spill any drops of cum, and you stayed put for him to do anything. he kissed your shoulder softly, whispering about how good and obedient you were.

he liked the calming feeling of his cock plugging your wet pussy, taking you like this felt so good and heightened his already possessive thoughts about you.

you were so perfect, you took your alpha so well and now you're staying still for him to pour his cum into you. he wanted to keep you all to himself, fuck you throughout all your heats and never let you go after someone else. the claim he put on you wasn't just out of sexual interest, but genuine love he had for you. and now that he had fucked you, it felt like everything was falling into place, his sense of purpose reaffirmed.

he had you, his lovely and delicate omega, waiting for her alpha to wreck her and turn her into a sobbing mess.

he looked forward to the rest of the day.

"now were not finished baby, we'll need a lot more if we want to go through your heat smoothly, right?"

[russo-woso]

Meeting | Leah Williamson x reader

Request | Masterlist | Prompt list

Part of the mini Williamson universe.

Summary Little Miss finally gets to meet Leah’s teammates.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

“I knew this would happen.” Leah sighed dramatically after coming back from training, flopping onto the sofa next to you.

“Knew what would happen?” You asked, resting a hand on her knee and rubbing it gently.

“The girls want to meet little Miss. She’s still too young. I don’t want them spreading their germs.” Leah sighed once more, rubbing her temple with her fingers.

“Le, Charlie’s three and a half weeks old. She’s fine to meet them.” You told her, letting out a small laugh as Leah sighed for the third time.

“Yeah but Kyra’s gonna put her grubby fingers all over her.”

“They’ll wash their hands before holding her.” You said, trying to calm Leah down by rubbing her arm as well.

“I’ll make them triple wash their hands.” Leah added

“Okay, baby.” You laughed, gently placing your lips on Leah’s cheek.

Before you could make contact with her cheek, she’d turned her head and your lips landed on hers.

Not even a second later, cries from Charlie’s Moses basket were heard.

“Hi, bubba.” Leah cooed, picking her up and resting her on her chest. “Are you hungry? Come on then. Let’s take you to mama.”

“Hi, little miss.” You smiled, latching Charlie on.

“Where’s my other bubba?” Leah asked, looking round for Ami with a confused look on her face.

“I put her down half an hour ago.” You explained. “Back to the girls meeting Charlie, did you say yes?”

You watched as Leah’s face scrunched up in panic once you brought up the subject again.

“Leah, what did you do?”

“I said yes. And they’re due round in 20 minutes.” Leah mumbled, her words being barely audible.

“Leah, you’re so stupid! The place is a tip. I look terrible…” you began but Leah cut you off.

“It’s fine, baby. The girls don’t care. They understand that we’ve just had a baby. I promised they don’t care.” Leah explained and you nodded calmly.

“Which girls are coming?”

“All of them.” Leah said, again, it being barely a whisper.

“Oh my god.” You sighed, resting your head on your hand.

—

Exactly twenty minutes later, a knock was heard on the door.

At this point, Leah now had Charlie asleep in her arms so you got up to answer the door.

You opened it, thinking it would be a few girls to start with but when you did open the door, the whole team was looking back at you.

They all bombarded you with hugs and congratulations before walking inside.

“Please be quiet, the girls are asleep.” You warned them, knowing how pissed off Leah would get if they woke Charlie and Ami up.

You closed the door whilst all the girls were awing at Charlie.

Just as you were closing the door, another knock was heard.

“Trust you to be late, clumsy.” You told Alessia, hugging her.

“I’m sorry, it’s not my fault there was a crash on the way here.” Alessia said, shrugging.

“I wouldn’t be surprised if it was your fault with your driving.” You muttered, still loud enough for her to hear.

“Hey! Now, where’s my nieces?”

“Ami’s fast asleep upstairs and I think you’re going to have to fight everyone else to get Charlie.” You explained, pointing to the herd of teammates in your living room.

When you walked in, Leah was instructing them to triple wash their hands.

One by one, they went to wash their hands, waiting in line to hold Charlie.

“Does anyone not know how to hold a—” Leah began but you cut her off.

“—Le, I think they know how to hold a baby. They’re not five.”

“Fine. Who wants to hold her first?” Leah asked and they all put their hands up.

“Oldest to youngest?” You suggested as they all nodded.

“Finally. My age can do something good.” Kim joked, getting herself ready to hold Charlie.

Leah walked over and rested her in Kim’s arms, quickly taking a photo on her phone.

One by one, they are held the newest member of the team.

About half way through, small footsteps were heard coming down the stairs.

“Hi, bubba.” You said, greeting a very sleepy looking Ami.

Amelia looked shocked as she saw all her aunties in the room.

“Auntie lessi?” Ami asked, searching the room for Alessia.

“I’m here, bug.” Alessia said, using the nickname which was supposedly an inside joke between them.

“She doesn’t want us anymore.” Leah mumbled quietly to you, pouting.

Just as you went to respond, Charlie let out a loud cry.

Leah jumped up in a flash, taking Charlie from Lotte.

“Hi, bubba. I know, it’s scary meeting new people, isn’t it? Mummy’s got you though.” Leah whispered, calming Charlie down.

Leah then sat down with a sleeping Charlie in her arms.

“Do I still get a cuddle? I’ve got loads of pranks to teach her about.” Kyra said with a cheeky grin.

“Ky, sorry to break it to you, but she’s not even a month old.”

“So?”

[aquaquadrant]

from eden, part X

Word count: 10,825 Warnings: Language, violence, blood/injury, victim blaming, self-deprecation, fictional racism, discussion of past abuse, temporary death  Summary: After an unwise decision, Tango and Jimmy find themselves in Hels, at odds, and up against an old foe seeking revenge. But as everything comes to a boil, Tango realizes he must finally confront his past if he has any hope of saving his future.

A/N: Hey y’all, thanks so much for ur patience. Didn’t mean for this to take so long, I’ve been dealing w some health issues, but I’m doing way better now and on break from school so here we are. I hope u enjoy, please reblog/comment if u do! - Aqua

~*~

from eden, part X - no ‘who cares,’ no vacant stares, no time for me 

~*~

Somewhere in Hels, a player stares at his soulmate in shock.

Tango could’ve sworn Jimmy was asleep. He checked, he checked multiple times to make sure Jimmy was well and truly unconscious before slipping out of bed. And he’d been so careful about it, moving so slowly and quietly to ensure Jimmy wasn’t woken up. All he’d needed was for Jimmy to keep sleeping for not even five minutes- just long enough for Tango to sneak downstairs, grab the supplies he’d secretly prepared earlier, go through the portal, and break it from the other side.

Yet here they are.

The abrupt silence after their mutual outburst is blanching. There’s almost a static feeling to it, like electricity gathering in the air before a lightning strike. All of Tango’s previous thoughts have flown clean out of his brain. He can only stare at Jimmy, forehead stinging, mouth slightly parted as he struggles to make sense of what he’s seeing.

Jimmy looks similarly disoriented. He sits in a heap in front of the portal, bathed in the green-yellow-red light, his wings splayed out around him. His nose is scrunched up- still wincing from the pain of Tango’s forehead smacking into his chin, most likely. The recently-obtained scar across the newly-formed bump on the bridge of his nose stands out in sharp contrast against his other, more familiar, features. He said it didn’t bother him, but Tango feels a stab of guilt every time he looks at it. Even now, it’s a reminder of the pain Tango’s brought him. Of how Tango’s failed him.

Jimmy recovers first.

“What am I- what are you doin’ here?!” he cries, rising to his feet. 

Realization dawns on Tango as he finally grasps the reality of this impossible scenario he’s found himself in.

Jimmy’s here. In Hels. Jimmy is in Hels. Jimmy is in Hels. Oh. Oh no, oh that’s the opposite of what Tango wants. This is bad. This is really, really bad. This is a whole heap of bad with extra badness on top. Jimmy can’t be in Hels, he should never be in Hels.

“Tango,” Jimmy presses, taking a step forward, “are you listenin’ to me?”

Tango jumps to his feet, heart pounding. He quickly scans their surroundings- still no players to be seen, though some of those magma cubes in the distance are getting close. He knows they’re on borrowed time; there’s at least two players in this world who are bound to notice his arrival in chat, and the clock’s ticking.

“Tango?” Jimmy says again, uncertainty leaking into his voice. “You alright?”

Adrenaline floods Tango’s body. He feels hyper aware, like all his senses are in overdrive- his skin is prickling with heat, and if it weren’t for the wither rose collar, he’s certain his blaze rods would be swirling around in a defensive inferno.

He needs to get Jimmy out of here.

Despite their difference in height, Tango’s strong enough that he could probably push Jimmy back into the portal. He’d have the element of surprise, initially. But Jimmy’s build isn’t just for show- Tango would have a hard time keeping him in the portal for the few crucial seconds required to teleport. He might even get teleported back, himself. 

So instead of attempting brute force, Tango stalks forward- though not close enough to be grabbed- flattens his ears, bares his teeth, and hisses.

“Go home,” Tango hisses lowly. “Right. Now.”

That seems to take Jimmy aback. He raises his eyebrows, incredulous. “Ex-cuse me?” he demands, putting his hands on his hips. “Now, hang on-”

“You shouldn’t be here!” Tango interrupts, his voice catching somewhere between anger and desperation. “This is-”

“You shouldn’t be here! What-”

“You’re not safe here-”

“- tryin’ to- well, neither are you!”

“- and you need to go back!”

“I’m not goin’ back without you!” Jimmy gives up on trying to keep his voice down, wings flaring out in agitation. “I thought we were in this together! I- god, Tango, we want to help you, we all just wanna help-”

“It’s not your problem!” Tango snaps, his temper rising. “Alright? It was my mistake that brought Bravo and Hels Tek to our door, you- why should you have to deal with it? What, just ‘cause we got randomly assigned to be soulmates? You didn’t sign up for all this!”

Jimmy’s expression darkens. “Yes, I did, that’s what it means to be a partner.” He reaches for Tango’s arm. “Tango, I love you-”

“I know!” Tango jerks away. “I know that, okay? But you- did it ever occur to you that maybe I love you, too? Maybe I don’t want you to put yourself at risk fighting my battles for me? Because I love you?” He rakes his claws through his hair, a mirthless laugh escaping him. “Is that- did that happen to cross your mind? That maybe for once I- I did something ‘cause I love you and not ‘cause I hate myself? Maybe I could do the selfless act of love every now and then? I mean, is that- is that so hard to believe?”

Jimmy stares at him for a moment, brown eyes blown wide. Even in the absence of their soulbond, Tango can tell he’s hurt. 

“That’s not what I meant,” Jimmy says finally, voice quiet. “I know you love me. Of course I know you love me. But Tango, honestly- can you honestly tell me that this decision wasn’t- that- that it had absolutely nothing to do with feelin’ like you deserve to be here?” he asks desperately. “No influence on your decision at all? Not a- a single part of you that thinks it’d be okay if you got trapped here again, suffering forever? Not even the slightest bit?”

Shit.

Tango sets his jaw. “That doesn’t matter.”

“Doesn’t matter?” Jimmy repeats, disbelieving. “Of course it does-”

“No, I don’t- you need to leave!”

“I’m not leavin’ you, I mean it!”

“I already told you, I don’t want-”

“Tango, please.” Jimmy holds out his hand. He looks close to tears. “Let’s go home. We’ll figure this out, alright?”

Tango swallows back a frustrated whine; he doesn’t have time for this. Atlas has no doubt already noticed his arrival, and he still needs to find Bravo. And the longer they stand here loudly arguing in front of an active portal, the greater the risk of discovery. It’s already a miraculous stroke of luck that the portal spawned in an uninhabited area.

Jimmy can’t force Tango back through the portal any more than Tango can force him. Besides, starting a physical fight with Jimmy would probably be his breaking point. This is hard enough already. He spends a precious second to take in Jimmy’s face; the thin line his mouth has pressed into, the tears brimming in his eyes, the scar across his crooked nose.

Then Tango turns on his heel and sprints away.

It’s a last-ditch effort kind of gambit. He’s hoping that if he loses Jimmy in the basalt delta, Jimmy won’t know what else to do but go back through the portal for help. And once he does, Tango can swoop in and break it. Problem solved.

There’s a surprised shout behind him. Wing beats fill the air as Jimmy takes flight. But Tango’s head start has already allowed him to reach the first outcropping of basalt, pock-marked with pools of lava. Without breaking stride, he leaps up onto the ledge of stone-

Only for his foot to catch on a tripwire.

Pistons go off while he’s still mid-jump. The ground opens up into a black pit beneath him. His claws scrape uselessly against the lip of basalt and suddenly he’s falling, stomach lurching, too shocked to even call out as wind whistles by his ears and he plummets into the darkness below, Jimmy’s voice screaming after him.

“Tango!”

Traps. He forgot to look for traps.

Weightless, Tango struggles to right himself. The hole is pitch black and it’s disorienting, wavering light from his dim blaze rods flickering against the walls. His mind races frantically. Even if he could pull a block from his inventory and place it down under him- and he’s not sure that he could, at the speed he’s falling- the damage would kill him anyways. No, better to see how this ends. If he’s dumb enough to fall for a trap, he should at least give it the satisfaction of killing him as intended.

Although, Tango’s been falling for more than a couple seconds and he hasn’t hit anything yet. That’s unusual. Few trappers care to dig holes this deep when a shallow pit of lava will have the same result. Maybe death isn’t the goal here. Maybe-

Light, somewhere down below. As it gets closer, Tango thinks he can see the walls of the hole open up into a larger room. But the bottom still goes down- into a pit of cobwebs. So that’s it. The trap was designed to capture players, not kill them. But why-

“Tango!”

Jimmy’s voice echoes wildly in the tunnel. Tango glances back over his shoulder to see Jimmy diving towards him, arms stretched forward and wings flattened, body straight as an arrow. 

Tango doesn’t currently have the breath to call out to him. If he did, it’d probably be something along the lines of, ‘No no no no no, why did you follow me, you idiot!’ and that wouldn’t be very constructive.

Jimmy hooks his arms underneath Tango’s, snaps his wings out, and takes them sailing out through the gap in the tunnel.

The abrupt swerve makes Tango’s stomach drop. Jimmy barely manages to avoid taking them directly into a wall, wings flaring, wind whipping around them. They tumble into an ungraceful- but not deadly- landing, tangled up in a pile of limbs.

The room they’ve flown into is large but rather crude, carved out of the netherrack and deepslate that make up the deepest levels of Hels- more of a cavern, really. A few scattered torches along the walls provide the room’s only lighting, and they’ve landed among a collection of haphazardly-placed chests- a chest monster to rival Scar’s. The center of the room is occupied by the hole at the bottom of the dropchute. Beyond it is something that makes Tango’s blood run cold.

Half of the room is covered in elaborate redstone circuitry, feeding into an empty portal frame. It’s an eerily similar setup to their own portal, and Tango is at once certain he knows who this base belongs to.

He processes this all in the couple seconds it takes him to get on his feet. Jimmy’s still crumpled beside him, uninjured but disoriented. Shit. He hadn’t planned to have Jimmy with him for this confrontation and it has him on edge, his skin crawling. The room’s empty right now, but he can’t see another way out except back up through the dropchute- it’s a precarious place to be in. He doesn’t like what being backed into a corner does to him.

“Ugh,” Jimmy groans softly, pushing himself upright. “Not one’a my better landin’s…”

“Shh,” Tango hisses.

Jimmy frowns at him, rising to his feet. “Tango, can you just-”

“Quiet!” Tango urges, gaze flicking around the room. Their sudden presence doesn’t seem to have set off any alarms, but there’s no telling what the trap was hooked up to-

Ca-clunk.

Tango’s ears prick at the sound of more pistons. He whirls around, hackles rising, to see part of the adjacent wall open up.

“Well,” Bravo says, stepping into the room, “isn’t this convenient?”

Tango had been mentally preparing himself to see his doppelgänger again, but he’s still taken aback at the state Bravo’s in. His hair and clothes are wild and unkempt, the stains on his shirt indistinguishable between redstone and blood. There’s a weariness about him, like he hasn’t slept in days, yet every muscle in his body is tense, his bruised knuckles gripping a netherite sword. Most striking, however, is his face; his green eyes are so bloodshot they’re almost red, and heavily lined with dark circles that- in a bizarre way- resemble wither stains.

So for a moment, it’s like Tango’s looking in a mirror.

It passes quickly. Tango forces the tension from his body, holding up his hands. “Take it easy, alright, I just wanna talk.”

“I?” Bravo tilts his head to the side, taking another step forward as the wall closes up behind him. “Uh, it looks like- looks to me like there’s two of you, pal.” His gaze cuts over to Jimmy, and his mouth quirks into a grin- hard and humorless. “Good to see ya, Jimmy.”

Tango bristles. “Leave him out of this,” he says lowly, stepping in front of Jimmy. “He wasn’t supposed to come.”

Jimmy makes a noise of protest. “Hang on-”

“Ohh, oh okay,” Bravo says, nodding slowly, “I- I see what this is. This is- hah, wow, this is kinda perfect.” He begins to pace in front of them, idly twirling his sword in his hand; there’s an unsettling air about him. “Lemme guess, you uh- you intended to come here alone, but your soulmate had other ideas?”

He spits the word like an insult. Tango feels his lip curl. “None of your business.” 

“Oh? It’s not?” Bravo barks out a laugh- a sharp contrast to the enraged look in his eyes. “Well, you’re in my fucking house, so, you know. Forgive my curiosity.”

Anger flares inside Tango; he pushes it down. “Look, I know we didn’t exactly get off on the right foot-”

“You fucking think?”

“Enough!” Jimmy shouts, wings flaring as he throws an arm out in front of Tango. “Bravo, listen to me. I don’t like you, alright, but we aren’t here to fight.”

“Obviously.” Bravo actually rolls his eyes. “I can- I can piece it together well enough, okay. You figured that you could come rescue me from Hels, and then I- everything will be peachy-keen, right? I mean, if- if you wanted me to stay here, you wouldn’t have opened a portal. Except this one,” he stops his pacing, leveling his sword at Tango, “got it in his thick head that it was somethin’ he needed ‘to do alone.’ So he snuck off by himself, on a solo mission of noble, stupid self-sacrifice, in the hopes that it’d make up for what he did-”

“Shut up,” Tango growls.

“- and that it’d keep you safe. Right?” Bravo’s voice drips with malice. “Except poor Jimmy’s too good to let you take the fall alone so he followed you here, right into my trap.”

“So what?” Tango demands with a bravado he doesn’t feel. Truthfully, Bravo’s words have opened a pit in his stomach; he hates that Bravo has seen through him so clearly. “What, I mean- you want a trophy for figuring it out? And- and why set a trap for us if your plan was clearly to get out through a portal of your own?”

Bravo scowls. “That trap wasn’t for you, actually. It’s for the damn mercenaries that’ve been comin’ after us since I split from Hels Tek.”

Jimmy frowns. “Us?”

Bravo’s face twitches. “Wh- me. Whatever.”

“You split from Hels Tek?” Tango asks, furrowing his brows. He knew Atlas and Bravo had fought back on Double Life, but he wasn’t sure if that’d be enough to make Bravo willingly take on Hels by himself.

Bravo snorts. “Yeah, I- I uh, I don’t take kindly to bein’ stabbed in the back, but Atlas still wanted a portal and wasn’t gonna take no for an answer, so.”

Tango would laugh at the irony, if he didn’t feel so sick to his stomach. “Wow,” he drawls, still unable to keep the sarcasm out of his voice, “so it turned out Atlas only cared about you as far as he could exploit you? Imagine that.” 

Clearly, he’s touched a nerve. “Shut up,” Bravo snaps.

“Watch it,” Jimmy snaps back. 

Unbothered, Tango glances around the cavern. “So wait, you- it’s only been like, what, a- a couple weeks since you respawned here, how- where did you get all these supplies?”

“Eh, found a new sponsor.” Bravo shrugs. “You know, I was probably only a few more days away from gettin’ my portal up and running ‘til you guys showed up. But it worked out nice this way, right?” There’s a manic light in his eyes. “I- I was gonna get my vengeance on you once I got back to the overworld, but instead, we can do it right now.”

That’s all the warning he gives before he attacks.

He’s fast, faster than Tango’s expecting. It’s all he can do to shove Jimmy out of the way, diving into a roll that brings him quickly back to his feet. He only brought one sword; he pulls it from his inventory and throws it to Jimmy without a second thought, because he doubts Jimmy prepared at all before coming through the portal and swords have always felt clumsy in his hands. There’s a reason traditional PVP has never been his strong suit.

The sword has barely left his grasp before Bravo’s springing at him again.

Screech!

Tango brings his claws up in time to catch Bravo’s blade between them. The force of the blow shudders through his arms. Bravo’s strong, too- stronger than Tango would think for a non-hybrid version of himself.

“Stop it!” Tango huffs. “We don’t wanna fight you!”

“Too bad!” Bravo sneers.

Well, if that’s what he wants. Tango ducks under the sword and brings a hand up to slash at Bravo’s face. Bravo disengages, darting backwards, out of reach- he readjusts his grip for another swing.

“Hey, lay off!”

Jimmy charges into the fray; Bravo pivots mid-swing to block Jimmy’s blade, the clang of metal reverberating through the cavern. He leans into the movement, bringing his leg up to deliver a swift kick to Jimmy’s side.

With a pained grunt, Jimmy stumbles, off-balance. Bravo raises his sword to slash again- but Tango rushes him, forcing him back. Claws swipe through empty air.

“Gotta do better than that,” Bravo tuts, flicking his sword out to nick Tango’s cheek.

The sharp pain and sudden scent of blood is disorienting. Tango lunges forward almost blindly, a snarl catching in the back of his throat. Rage bubbles inside him, and he can feel his fire trying to respond- but with the wither rose in his system, it’s like throwing a match into a well.

Bravo deftly steps around him. “There’s that famous Tango temper again!” he taunts. “Go on, show us exactly how much of a monster you are.” 

The words sober Tango instantly. He swallows back his rage; the last thing he wants to do is lose control like he did back at the ranch, especially when Jimmy could get hurt. His fire may be dampened, but that doesn’t mean he’s not dangerous.

Then his ears twitch at a furious shout- Jimmy surges into the air, wings beating, and swoops down at Bravo. “Don’t you dare call him that!”

In the same moment, Tango moves to block Bravo’s escape route, aiming for his hands in an attempt to disarm him.

But Bravo’s ready for them both. 

He ducks beneath Tango’s claws and side-steps Jimmy’s attack, jabbing the pommel of his sword into Tango’s gut as a parting blow. Wings flailing, Jimmy pulls up short to avoid slamming into Tango- and yelps as Bravo’s sword cleaves a handful of feathers into the air.

“Come on!” Bravo goads them. “That the best you can do?”

Tango hadn’t gotten much of a chance to actually observe Bravo fight during the Hels Tek invasion, and he’s sorely regretting it now. It’s clear Bravo’s got more experience with PVP than either of them. And not the type of casual sparring between friends, but genuine life-or-death fighting- fast, messy, and brutal. Even being two against one isn’t helping them much; Bravo keeps on the move, twisting through and around them with a practiced ease that leaves them struggling not to accidentally hit each other.

A detached part of Tango’s mind runs through their options. Being killed and ending up at the world spawn would be the worst-case scenario; they’d basically be gift-wrapped for Atlas to come snatch up. But he doesn’t think joining through a hacked portal would reset their spawns; after all, the Hels Tek invaders wound up back in Hels after they were killed. Of course, he’d rather not find out for certain. And if he ends up respawning back to Double Life, his entire goal in coming here alone goes up in smoke. He won’t get another chance at this- the other Double Lifers will insist on putting themselves in danger to help him, ‘cause they’re annoyingly kind like that, and everything will turn into a big flaming ball of disaster.

So it’s really in his best interest not to get killed right now.

Except, he can’t help but notice that Bravo actually doesn’t seem to be trying to kill them. Most of what he’s aiming for are non-vital structures- arms, legs, Jimmy’s wings. When he does land an attack above the belt, it almost seems like he’s holding back, leaving only shallow gashes or a blunt hit with a skillfully thrown fist, knee, or elbow.

And despite clearly being the superior fighter, he’s mainly staying on the defensive. He isn’t taking nearly as many swings as he could. It’s an endurance game, Tango realizes- he’s trying to tire them out. But why? He’s on his own, it’s not like he’s stalling for reinforcements. There’s nowhere for them to go. That is, nowhere except-

Tango’s gaze falls on the pit at the bottom of the dropchute.

Oh. Oh, that’s-

Wham!

Pain explodes through Tango’s skull.

Bravo’s taken advantage of Tango’s brief lapse in concentration, landing a solid punch on the side of his face. It’s enough to make him black out for a moment, every thought in his brain screeching to a halt. When he comes back to himself, his cheek is pressed against the floor, made warm and sticky with his pooling blood. There’s a faint ringing in his ears- above it, he can barely make out the sound of swords clashing somewhere in front of him.

Tango manages to lift his head, blinking spots from his vision.

Bravo is driving Jimmy back- back towards the center of the room where the pit is. Tango opens his mouth to scream a warning, but he’s too late. As they near the edge of the pit, Bravo suddenly steps under Jimmy’s guard, hooking a leg behind Jimmy’s foot as one hand comes up to twist his sword out of his grip. Bravo’s other arm slams against Jimmy’s chest, knocking him off-balance.

Jimmy falls backwards with a shout, into the pit of cobwebs. He doesn’t fall very deep, of course- that’s not how cobwebs work. But he is immediately stuck, wings and limbs straining as he slowly begins to sink.

“Jimmy!” Tango cries, his heart jolting. 

Oh, this is bad. Getting out of cobwebs without a sword, while slowly falling through them, will be almost impossible. Especially since Jimmy’s feathers are particularly prone to sticking to that stuff and every movement will cause him pain as he pulls on them.

“There.” Satisfied, Bravo stows Jimmy’s sword in his inventory before turning back to Tango. “Now we can finally finish this.”

“No!” Jimmy pleads desperately from the pit, already disappearing from view. “Leave ‘em alone!”

“Oh, don’t worry, I’m not gonna kill him,” Bravo tuts as he approaches Tango. “That- I mean, that’d just send you back home, right? Hacked portals don’t do the whole spawn reset-ification thing, as it turns out.” He shakes his head. “No, I- what I’m gonna do is arrange a little meeting with our old buddy Atlas to come pick you up, okay, and- and then I’ll finally get him off my back and be able to leave this fucking place for good.”

Terror shoots through Tango. If Atlas comes here, with Jimmy trapped like this…

Head pounding, Tango struggles to get to his feet. “Y- you don’t have to do this,” he says weakly. “I know I messed up, a- and I’m sorry, okay? But Jimmy had nothin’ to do with it, he- you have to let him go, please.”

Bravo’s lip curls. “I’m not gonna let Atlas get him. Believe it or not, I meant it when I said I wouldn’t let another overworlder get trapped here.”

Despite the severity of the situation, the offended disdain in his tone makes Tango snort. “Oh, sorry, uh- excuse me for thinkin’ you’d ever do such a terrible thing,” he rasps. “I- I mean, you can’t blame me, right? You- it’s not like you’ve made a great impression.”

Bravo’s eyes darken with anger, and then his fist is in Tango’s stomach. The punch makes Tango double over, gasping for breath- then a well-placed kick throws him back against the wall, pain crashing through his ribs.

“What’re you doin’?!” Jimmy’s panicked voice sounds from the pit- he’s sunken far enough down that he can’t see them anymore. “Don’t hurt him!”

Bravo ignores him, stalking forward to grab Tango by the front of his shirt. “You’re one to talk, you piece of shit,” he hisses in Tango’s face, reeling back for another hit.

Crack.

This one lands the hilt of his sword against Tango’s jaw. Bravo drops him to the ground in a crumpled heap.

“Tango!” Jimmy’s scream sounds far away.

Everything is pain. With no small amount of effort, Tango pushes himself upright, breathing raggedly through his nose. He can feel blood trickling down his chin from his split lip, can taste it stained against his teeth. His head aches. His body is shaking. There’s a cold pit of dread in his stomach, and he knows that he’s lost this fight.

But more than that, deep down, there’s the realization that maybe… he always expected to.

(It’s not like coming here without Jimmy would’ve changed the outcome. No matter what Tango said or did, Bravo was always going to react this way- why would Tango think anything different? Despite his intention to extend the olive branch, he knows Bravo wouldn’t have been satisfied to just let bygones be bygones.

Truthfully, Tango had been prepared for this the moment he saw that red light fill their portal. Bravo had nailed it right at the start; this was always going to be a mission of self-sacrifice. If giving himself up meant placating Bravo and Hels Tek, if it meant that the people he cared about would be safe, then Tango had been willing to accept it. Even if it meant going back to the farm for the rest of his life.

He’s already had ten years in the sun. That’s more than anyone else in Hels got.)

Bravo looms over him, a mad, triumphant grin spreading across his face. “You’re gonna spend the rest of your days in that farm where you belong,” he says lowly, “and out of the life you stole from me. You’re nothin’ but an evil monster, and it’s what you deserve.”

A strange feeling settles over Tango.

It’s like déjà vu, to sit here and listen to his doppelgänger repeat all the horrible things Tango’s believed about himself almost his entire life, all the things he’s told himself in the mirror time and time again. It’s his words spoken in his voice out of an eerily similar face, as if all his deepest insecurities have taken form.

It’s achingly, hauntingly familiar. Like a knife tracing over old scars.

And yet, there’s something odd about hearing it from another person. To hear such hatred and conviction in that voice, to see it so plainly in his eyes. Tango’s well aware that there are plenty of players who feel the same way- not just about him, but other hostile mob hybrids, too. He’s no stranger to prejudice; he’s noticed the wary looks and distrustful glares he’s gotten on public multiplayer worlds before.

Hell, Atlas is attempting to build an empire on the very concept of oppressing hybrids, and he’s had plenty of help to do it. Not just his fellow redstone scientists, but sponsors and buyers, too. Lots of players have reason to want Tango in a farm, to exploit and degrade him. But only because they would profit from it- otherwise they wouldn’t bother wasting so much time and energy on him. Sure, Atlas probably hates him to some degree, and is indifferent at best to all the pain he’s been caused. But Tango’s also certain that if he weren’t useful, then Atlas wouldn’t give him a second thought. If he couldn’t be farmed, Atlas would never have come after him in the first place. It’s all about ambition with Atlas; he wouldn’t waste time on petty revenge schemes.

Bravo, on the other hand, stands to gain absolutely nothing from this except the satisfaction of knowing Tango is suffering. How strange, that the only player to ever really demonstrate that desire isn’t even from Hels.

And with that thought, everything falls into place.

Tango wheezes out a laugh, though he immediately regrets it- fuck, his ribs. “So that’s where I get my sadism from! Good to know, good to know.”

The smirk drops off Bravo’s face. “What the fuck are you talkin’ about?”

Tango wipes the blood from his face. “I mean, I- we- we’ve established that I’m just a uh, a physical manifestation of all the evil parts of you, yeah? That’s what Hels are? Well, if that’s true, then every bad thing about me is somethin’ I got from you.” He grins, despite the pain of his split lip. “Can’t pour from an empty bottle, right?”

Bravo balks at him. “No, that’s not- it’s different,” he argues. “It’s- this is justified, you took everything from me-”

“So now you’re gonna do the same?” Tango raises his eyebrows. Bracing a hand against the wall, he slowly rises to his feet. “Funny, I- I thought that you were supposed to be a better person than me.”

“I am!” Bravo insists angrily.

Tango shrugs. “Well, you sure ain’t actin’ like it, skippy.”

That seems to take Bravo aback. “I- I don’t-” He rakes a hand through his hair, his breathing quickening. “It’s- it’s you, it’s this fucking place, it’s- I don’t know, it’s every-fucking-thing that’s happened in the last ten years! I- I didn’t deserve this, I didn’t do anything to deserve getting sent here!”

“Hold on, what makes you think I did anything to deserve gettin’ sent here?” Tango asks, genuinely curious. “I was spawned here as a child, I mean, what- what could a child possibly do to ‘deserve’ spawning here? What could any of us have done to deserve this?”

Ooh, Bravo doesn’t like that question. “I don’t know,” he splutters, “I didn’t make you spawn here! That was the universe, it- it must know that you- all you Hels- you’re just destined to be bad.”

Tango tilts his head. “Yeah? If that’s the case, then uh, why did the universe send you here?”

Bravo makes a sound like he’s been punched. “What?”

“I didn’t make that portal. You didn’t make that portal. We all know that the universe makes portals to Hermitcraft so why-”

“Stop it! It was a mistake! A glitch! I- I was never meant to come to Hels, you-”

“Then how has every other Hermit joined without having the same problem? Huh? Why you? Why us?”

“Shut up!” Bravo cries, almost desperate. “I’m the one in the right, here!”

“Says who?” Tango asks.

“I just- I have to be in the right!” Bravo protests, throwing an arm out. “I- I’m not like you, I’m not a Hels, I’m supposed to be the good one. If I’m mad, if I wanna hurt someone, it has to be justified, ‘cause I’m not- I’m not cruel.”

Tango just looks at him.

Bravo seems to recognize the irony in his words. It hits him almost like a physical attack; he staggers, eyes widening, face twisting with rage. “Don’t you dare fucking judge me!” he shouts as he raises his sword accusingly at Tango, voice echoing off the cavern walls. “I’m just- I did what I had to do to survive, and- and it ruined me. This world ruined me, and it’s all your fault, you bastard!”

They’re hollow accusations, built from hurt and deflected blame. But it doesn’t occur to Tango to defend himself against them. He couldn’t if he wanted to; all he can do is watch Bravo in stunned silence.

Even without the ability to set himself ablaze, Bravo’s rage is a terrible thing to behold. Tears stream down his reddened face; a mixture of fury and despair, raw and ugly. “It’s not fair!” he wails, almost a breathless scream. “Why did you get to be saved? Why did I have to take your place? What- what did I do?”

He takes another step closer, drawing his sword back, and Tango is suddenly struck by the very real possibility that Bravo is about to kill him.

“You did this to me!” Bravo snarls, wild-eyed and heaving for breath. “You and e- everyone else in th- this fucking hellscape, you- you did this, you-!” 

Bravo lifts his sword for the killing blow-

And then he pauses. He stares at Tango, and Tango stares back.

“... fuck. What am I doing?”

Bravo stumbles back from Tango, lowering his sword. He clutches his head with his free hand, a few stray tears streaking down his face as he struggles to control his breathing. His anger seems to have extinguished, finally letting the pain seep through- an expression that Tango knows as intimately as his own reflection.

Tango blinks. 

It’s a complicated rush of emotions. Bravo represents the worst part of Tango’s life coming back to haunt him; his skeleton in the closet. Fueled by prejudice and misplaced blame, he fought tooth and nail to destroy the life Tango had built for himself, brought pain and hardship to a world of strangers who’d done nothing to deserve it. He made a deal with a devil to get what he wanted and didn’t care who got caught up in the crossfire. Most of all, despite having a viable way to escape Hels peacefully, he doggedly pursued revenge out of nothing but spite and a twisted sense of justice.

Logically, Tango should hate Bravo as much as Bravo hates him.

But for the first time, Tango tries to imagine what it must’ve been like to be trapped in Hels for ten years and not knowing why.

What Bravo went through is exactly what Tango’s always feared since he escaped; that one day his luck would run out, and he’d lose everything. His peaceful life in the overworld. His freedom. His friends, and the love he found with Jimmy- maybe Bravo had people he cared about before, too. Worst of all, Bravo had already experienced the wonders of the wider universe before having it abruptly taken from him.

Tango had been spawned into cruelty and suffering. He hadn’t known anything different, hadn’t known there was anything beyond Hels that he was missing out on. But Bravo did. Bravo knew what it was to travel between worlds, to explore untainted horizons, to live under the warmth of the sun. He knew cooperation and goodwill between players, the comfort and safety of solo worlds. And then suddenly, he’d been deprived of it all, with no way of knowing if he’d ever get it back.

So if Atlas told him that it wasn’t his fault, that he could blame it all on some mysterious, evil doppelgänger… Tango understands why he’d cling to the notion so fiercely.

It’s an easy thing to blame someone else. Accepting that Tango isn’t to blame for what he’s become means accepting that maybe his understanding of Hels players is flawed, and that he might not have been as good of a player as he thought to begin with. Accepting that Tango wasn’t to blame for stranding him in Hels in the first place would mean accepting that maybe… there wasn’t a reason at all. And that kind of acceptance is paramount to altering his entire worldview.

Tango’s been through that himself, once. It wasn’t a fun process. So right now, watching Bravo fall apart in front of him, he finds that all he can feel is sympathy.

So Tango summons enough strength to step forward and wrap Bravo in a hug.

Bravo recoils at first; the kind of instinctive flinch that Tango knows all too well. A noise catches in his throat- part alarm, part disgust. “What’re you-” He tries to push away, but Tango holds fast.

“I’m sorry,” Tango whispers. “You didn’t deserve it.”

Bravo freezes. 

The air is still and silent around them, filled with nothing but the faint flickering of torches and Bravo’s shrill breathing. He’s as rigid as stone in Tango’s embrace- his muscles are so tense, it feels like they’re going to snap. After a few moments, he inhales sharply, and Tango is almost certain he’s about to receive a sword in the gut but he doesn’t let go, because he remembers what it’s like to live in this world and if he can’t even show his own doppelgänger kindness then he really hasn’t learned anything at all-

The sword clatters to the ground. And Bravo breaks.

He folds into the embrace and begins to sob. He sobs hard, shaking and gasping for breath in between, clinging to Tango like his life depends on it. Tears quickly dampen the collar of Tango’s shirt. It’s different from his earlier furious cries- this is absolute devastation, heart-wrenching and all-consuming. It’s a flood ten years in the making, finally spilling over all the careful walls that Bravo’s built around himself. And now that it’s here, there’s no stopping it.

Tango doesn’t speak. He simply eases them down to sit on the floor- he can’t support both his and Bravo’s weight right now. Bravo practically collapses, body limp, legs curled awkwardly beneath him but he doesn’t seem to notice or care. He sags against Tango and cries, and Tango lets him.

It’s slightly bizarre, holding his doppelgänger while he cries. Especially when he was attacking Tango not even two minutes ago. In many ways, it’s a disturbing echo of his own past breakdowns- he can hear himself so clearly in Bravo’s voice, the raw ache of it.

But he’s glad for it. New growth can only happen once the old is torn down. It’s a messy, unpleasant process. It won’t be quick or easy. Bravo has only just taken the first step- he’s still got a long, difficult journey ahead of him. But Tango knows how beautiful it’ll be, to come out through the other side.

And he thinks maybe he needed this, too.

Tango isn’t sure how much time they spend like that. Only when Bravo has finally grown silent, just the occasional sniffle or shaky breath, does Tango sit back enough to meet Bravo’s teary gaze.

“And neither did I,” he continues quietly. “And neither did anyone else who’s ever spawned here, that- that’s the point.”

Bravo sniffs, wiping his face on his sleeve. “But… the universe has to spawn you here for a reason,” he insists, his voice small and confused. Like a child.

Tango’s mildly surprised to find he feels no anger- just pity. “Maybe the universe is wrong.”

Distress flashes across Bravo’s face; clearly, he’s never considered that before. He pulls away from Tango but he doesn’t go far, tucking his knees to his chest. “So then... all this pain, all this struggle... was for nothing,” he says miserably. “Everything I went through... a- and everything I did... I- I was so sure there had to be a reason, that I was different from the players here, that I didn’t belong here. But I- I’m fucked up. I used to be a nice person, but…”

“Nice isn’t the same thing as good,” Tango says simply. “And I would know.”

Bravo swallows. “… how did you do it?” he asks hoarsely. “You’re a Hels, why… how come this world didn’t ruin you, too? How did you end up being the good one?”

It’s an exceedingly vulnerable question, without a hint of reproach. Tango hums, leaning back on his arms. “Y’know, I spent a long time in this world. I- I grew up where it’s kill or be killed, murder first ask questions later, everyone’ll sell you out for a piece of rotten flesh. That was just normal. That was expected. If you’d known me back then, I- I would’ve been no different from any other Hels. I set horrible traps for fun. I cost random players, people I didn’t even know, their resources and their lives in an already harsh world, I mean- it wasn’t pretty. But I was a kid.” He glances sidelong at Bravo. “I was just a teenager when Atlas took me in, did you- did he ever tell you that?” 

Bravo’s surprised expression is all the answer Tango needs.

“Nah, I guess he wouldn’t,” Tango sighs ruefully. “But the first person I thought was different- the first person who I thought saw more in me than the capacity for chaos, who offered me a home, a sense of belonging, a purpose... it turned out to be a trick. All of it, a lie. Just to get me into a horrible farm for the rest of my life, suffering constant withering and being harvested for my resources, like- like I was nothin’ more than a mob.” He gives Bravo a half-hearted grin. “You’d think that’d seal it, right? Like, that would just totally destroy any remaining faith I had in playerkind. And uh, it came pretty close, actually. But then I got out.”

He tips his head back to stare at the ceiling. “The universe created a portal, and I escaped to a world where players were kind. And generous, and… gave you the benefit of the doubt. They didn’t assume the worst, they didn’t judge you based on what you looked like. It was… completely foreign. I took advantage of it at first, I mean, I- I was a total jerk. I’m just lucky they thought it was all in good fun, jokes and pranks and stuff- or, or uh, maybe they did know, and still chose to show me grace, I dunno. What I do know is that after enough time had passed… I changed. My wants, my goals, my- my entire outlook on life changed. Suddenly I wanted to be good, I- I tried so hard to be good. And that only happened ‘cause I got the chance.” 

He meets Bravo’s gaze, raising his eyebrows. “And- and I was an adult at that point, I’d grown up in Hels. I mean, imagine what I might’ve been like if I’d spawned on a normal world, grown up in the normal way. Hell, imagine if any other Hels kid got that chance. Maybe there wouldn’t be so many differences between us. Like, maybe even someone like Atlas could’ve been better.” He shrugs. “And maybe he wouldn’t have. Maybe he always would’ve grown up to be an asshole. Either way, there’s no way of knowing if they never have the chance.”

Bravo looks pensive, his brows knitted together. “I guess I… never thought of that.”

Tango dares to reach out and put a hand on Bravo’s arm. “I’m sorry you got sent here. If I’d known about it when it happened... well, I- I probably still wouldn’t have said anything, if I’m honest,” he admits. “Like you said, I did what I had to do to survive. But I’m sorry for what you went through, and for what my role in that was. If I’d been brave enough to speak up, maybe we could’a helped you sooner, I dunno.” 

Bravo glances away. “I… understand,” he says haltingly. “It, uh… it doesn’t excuse the way I’ve been actin’, so. You know.”

Tango makes a noncommittal noise. “For what it’s worth, I- I don’t think ‘being good’ is somethin’ that’s like… intrinsically handed to us, just by virtue of where we spawn. I think good is a choice that we make, every second of every day of our lives. And y’know, deciding not to choose good in one moment doesn’t mean we can never choose good again.” He huffs a soft laugh. “I mean, if you ask me, that’s way more important than the world we spawn in.”

Bravo looks at him for a moment. His expression is impossible to read. Then determination settles over him, his eyes hardening, before he abruptly gets to his feet. Without a word, he marches over to one of the chests on the floor and rummages through it. Before Tango can say anything, Bravo pulls out an item and tosses it over to him.

Tango catches it, mostly on reflex; it’s a potion of instant health.

“You take that,” Bravo says briskly, stooping over to pick his sword off the ground, “while I go help Jimmy out of there.”

Then he jumps into the pit, slashing through cobwebs on his way down.

Tango blinks. Well, then. Guess that’s decided. He downs the potion quickly, grimacing at the sweet aftertaste of glistering melon, and rises to his feet. It hasn’t fully restored him, but it’s taken the edge off his fresh injuries and given him enough strength to be a functional player again, and he’s quite satisfied with that for now.

Putting away the empty bottle, he wanders over to the edge of the pit, catching the tail end of Jimmy snapping at Bravo as he approaches.

“- where you’re swingin’ that thing!”

“I’m tryin’ to help! Just hold still-”

“Don’t you tell me to- ouch!”

“You’re makin’ it worse! Hang on…”

Tango’s only just leaned over to look when Jimmy flies out of the pit. His wings are ruffled and there are a few places where it’s obvious that some feathers were pulled out, a few stray bits of cobweb still clinging here and there. But aside from the scrapes and bruises he received during their fight with Bravo, he looks none the worse for wear. He’s been gracious enough to carry Bravo out with him, though he’s quick to dump Bravo back on the ground once they’re clear of the pit.

“Tango!” Jimmy swoops over and nearly knocks Tango over, wrapping him in a tight hug. “Oh my gosh, I- I was so worried, are you alright?”

Despite the ache in his bones, Tango hugs him back just as fiercely. “Yeah, yeah, I’m alright, hun,” he reassures Jimmy, voice muffled in the crook of his shoulder.

Right now, he wants nothing more than to curl up in Jimmy’s embrace and fall asleep. Between the fight and his unexpected heart-to-heart with Bravo, he’s physically and emotionally worn out. But even though the immediate threat has been nullified, he knows they aren’t done yet.

Tango pulls back just enough to meet Jimmy’s gaze. “I’m sorry for all this,” he murmurs, reaching a hand up to cup Jimmy’s face. “I thought… if I came here by myself, I’d be protecting you- protecting everyone- from suffering the consequences of my mistake.”

Jimmy covers Tango’s hand with his own. “Did you… did you come here with the intent of givin’ yourself up?” he asks quietly.

Tango winces. “Well, I didn’t- that wasn’t my main goal, no, but uh- I- I knew it was a possibility,” he confesses. “I mean, ideally I would’ve patched things up with Bravo and- and somehow gotten the key from Atlas on my own, but… I was prepared to fail, yeah. I’d accepted it.”

Jimmy looks sad, but not surprised. “Y’know,” he starts softly, “you- you always talk about, uh… not wantin’ to hurt us, not wantin’ us to suffer for your mistakes. But I don’t think you realize that for us, the thought of losin’ you is far worse than whatever else might happen. I mean, I- I’d go through that battle with Hels Tek a hundred times over if it meant not losin’ you. And I know the others feel the same way.”

“Oh.” Tango’s throat tightens. “I… hadn’t thought of that.”

“I know.” A bittersweet smile spreads across Jimmy’s face. “I know it’s hard for you to believe sometimes, alright, but you- we’re rather fond of you, mate. So, um… d’you think you could give the self-sacrificial nonsense a rest?”

Despite everything, Tango feels himself grin. “I can try, yeah,” he says, leaning up to give Jimmy a kiss.

(On the inside, Tango is still terrified at how this might turn out. Hels is a dangerous world, and tangling with Atlas and the rest of Hels Tek is no small order. A horrible painful death is the least of his concerns- if Jimmy or any of the other Double Lifers ended up in a farm, Tango would never forgive himself.

But if today taught him anything, it’s that the people he cares about are just as stubborn as he is. No matter what he says or does, they’re going to be determined to help him, because that’s just the kind of players they are. And he could continue to try and fight it, to try and go it alone, but he’s sure they’ll still somehow put themselves in harm’s way.

So rather than fight it, maybe he can accept that they’re able to make their own decisions and take their own risks. And that working with them, rather than against them, might give them all the best chance of having a favorable outcome. They’ll certainly have an easier time dealing with Atlas if they don’t have to worry about Tango pulling another dirty, reckless move like this.)

Behind them, Bravo coughs into his fist. “Uh, hey, are you two done…?”

Jimmy breaks away with a huff of annoyance. “What?” he demands, keeping an arm around Tango’s waist.

“Just thinkin’ out loud here,” Bravo says, holding his hands up, “but uh, you- there’s no way you two are gonna be able to take on Hels Tek alone. I mean, you’ve already lost the element of surprise, I- he’s probably noticed your arrival in chat by now. And Hels Tek is several days away on foot, how- what, are you just- are you just gonna walk there? You’d barely make it a hundred blocks before gettin’ killed, what with your abysmal PVP skills.”

Jimmy scowls at the slight against them, but Tango frowns. “You’re right,” he amends. “I uh, I honestly didn’t have much of a plan besides ‘winging it’ when I came through, I- I was on a bit of a time crunch.”

“So what do you propose we do?” Jimmy asks Bravo pointedly.

Bravo rolls his eyes. “I mean, I just wanna get the fuck out of here. But if you guys are tryin’ to get the key to that collar skadoodler from Atlas, you’re gonna need help.”

“From you?” Jimmy’s distrust is evident in his voice. “Why?”

Bravo crosses his arms, shoulders hunched defensively. “I dunno, I- maybe I feel bad about the part I played in all this and feel like I owe you guys one?”

Jimmy scoffs. “Doubtful.”

Bravo opens his mouth to retort, but Tango intervenes. “Hey, I know you probably couldn’t hear everything from the bottom of that pit,” he tells Jimmy, “but uh, I- I really think we’ve worked it out, now.” He glances over at Bravo, smiling. “I think we can trust him.”

Shock flares in Bravo’s eyes, his expression sobering. He gives a slight nod.

Jimmy purses his lips. “Fine, but I still don’t like it-”

Ca-clunk.

Pistons activate, making all three of them whirl around to face the wall. Tango’s mind is already racing through the different possibilities- maybe Bravo was actually just stalling until backup came, or maybe Atlas was able to track them down on his own, or maybe it’s even a completely random player who stumbled across the base- but that all comes screeching to a halt as soon as he sees the player who steps out into the room.

Because that’s Jimmy.

Or- well- not exactly. It’s obviously not Jimmy because he’s still standing next to Tango. But it’s immediately apparent that, despite the several major differences between them, this is Jimmy’s doppelgänger, his Hels counterpart.

It seems impossible. Or at least, highly improbable, that Jimmy’s doppelgänger would be here, of all places, and now, of all times, when Hels is a massive, infinite world full of nearly infinite players.

But there’s no one else he could be.

“Bravo!” the player calls in Jimmy’s voice. “Did you- oh.” He draws up short when he sees them, seeming just as thrown by this turn of events as they are.

The first thing that jumps out at Tango is how skinny the player is. He’s practically emaciated; despite his tall frame, his limbs are no thicker than Tango’s, his big, watery eyes sunken into a hollow face- a face that, aside from the lack of a crooked nose, is almost identical to Jimmy’s. The large wings that trail behind him are black in color and poorly kept. He’s a lot paler than Jimmy is, too, almost a sickly sort of complexion. His ratty hair is a dull black, and- based on the sharp angles of the ends- was cut short very recently. 

Now Tango knows how Jimmy must’ve been feeling this whole time. It’s fucking weird.

Beside him, Jimmy’s breath catches. He takes a single, tentative step forward- though Tango is quick to throw an arm out in front of him. The player doesn’t look very threatening. He’s barefoot and dressed in rags, carrying no weapon or armor. But Tango’s still on guard. This is an unknown Hels player, after all.

The player stares at Jimmy, entranced. “Oh,” he breathes, a trembling hand coming up to tug on a strand of hair. A jumble of emotions flash across his face, too fast to read. “I see… you must be Jimmy.”

“And you’re Timmy,” Jimmy says softly, dawning realization settling over his features. “Aren’t you? Gosh…”

Tango recognizes the tone of their voices; they’re experiencing the same strange sensation he did, the first time he laid eyes on Bravo. That abrupt and absolute recognition of the self in the other. Despite meeting for the first time, there hadn’t been a doubt in Tango’s mind that Bravo was his doppelgänger. He’d known it as surely as his own name. It was something instinctual, almost primal- grounding and disorienting all at once.

Timmy. That’s the nickname that Grian and some of the other guys call Jimmy. A practical joke played on them by the universe, no doubt, to have spawned with the names they did.

Bravo finally unfreezes. “Timmy! I told you to wait for me to come get you!” he hisses, but Tango can see the guilt and shame on his face. 

“Sorry…” Timmy murmurs distantly, still fixated on Jimmy. “I was just… gosh, I- everythin’ makes sense now…” He finally turns to look at Bravo, and the faint, knowing smile on his face is devastatingly sad. “I… get why I wasn’t good enough.”

Bravo flinches. “No, no I- I didn’t mean-”

“Ey,” Jimmy cuts in, voice gentle but firm as he moves past Tango to approach Timmy. “C’mere, mate, it’s alright. Ignore him a second, hey?” He fans out a wing to block Bravo from view, nonverbally conveying that he’d like a private moment with his doppelgänger.

“Yeah, come on.” Tango takes the cue to grab Bravo by the arm, leading him to the other side of the room. “You- you wanna explain him?” he asks lowly, putting his hands on his hips. “I mean, how- where did you even find him?”

Bravo exhales heavily. “At spawn. Actually, I- we met the first time I ended up at world spawn, all those years ago. Go figure. He- he’d been livin’ there for god knows how long, just… starving to death, over and over again, ‘cause he was too scared to leave.”

Damn.

“Huh.” Tango nods slowly. “So… what were you sayin’ about all Hels being evil monsters…?”

Bravo tenses. “Shut up. He’s different.” He glances over his shoulder at the pair of avians. “I… after I was killed on your world, and- and escaped from Hels Tek, I ended up at spawn. He was still there, and this time… he agreed to come with me, so he could leave Hels with me once I got my portal working.”

“Mhmm.” Tango’s voice is terse, even to his own ears. “You, uh... didn’t happen to keep him around just ‘cause he’s my soulmate’s doppelgänger, did you?”

Bravo winces. “... maybe at first,” he admits. “But then- I dunno, I- I didn’t- things changed, alright?”

Tango folds his arms. “That’s pretty fucked up, to use him as a- a replacement Jimmy.”

“I know, okay?” Bravo hisses, but it’s lacking its usual venom. “I- I’ve had a lotta realizations in the last few minutes, alright? Gimme a break.”

Tango snorts but says nothing else, looking over to check on Jimmy.

He’s speaking to Timmy in low tones, eyes shining with concern. His demeanor is reserved, gentle, nonthreatening- he’s matching Timmy’s curled-in posture, just with less of the anxiety, more reassuring. And it seems to be working; even from this distance, it’s apparent Timmy’s slowly growing more comfortable, less afraid.

Sudden warmth swells in Tango’s chest. It’s overwhelming, meeting your doppelgänger, but Jimmy’s put all those complicated feelings aside to help a player who seems to sorely need it. His experience with Hels players thus far has been nothing but flat-out terrible, and yet it didn’t even occur to him to be wary of Timmy. Some might view that as foolish naivety or ignorance, maybe even stupidity. But to Tango, it’s a testament to Jimmy’s incredible kindness.

He couldn’t be more proud of his soulmate.

Eventually, Jimmy waves them over. “Hey, so uh, you got somethin’ to say to Timmy?” he asks Bravo, one hand resting protectively on Timmy’s bony shoulder.

Taken back, Bravo looks at Tango, who simply raises an eyebrow.

Bravo swallows. “Look,” he starts hesitantly, “I- I uh, I’m sorry for the way I’ve been treating you, alright? It… wasn’t fair for me to compare you to Jimmy.”

Timmy’s avoiding his gaze, fidgeting with his hands, but there’s a hopeful light in his eyes. “Thanks,” he says softly.

Satisfied for the moment, Jimmy turns to Tango. “We can’t leave him here,” he says, completely resolute. “I- I think we should head back through the portal for now, regroup with the others and come up with a- with an actual plan? So long as we don’t break the portal, we’ll still be able to come back through. Even if he,” he nods at Bravo, “is with us.”

Tango rubs the back of his neck, sheepish. “Right, right, yeah. I’m- the others are bound to notice we’re gone soon, so we should probably-”

“Oh!” Timmy gasps suddenly, smacking his forehead. “The others, right! Right, sorry, I uh- the reason I came to find you, Bravo, is that a- a whole buncha players just joined the world.” He cringes, apologetic. “I- I think it’s those guys you were tellin’ me about.”

“What?!” Bravo demands, sounding alarmed.

Tango whips out his communicator, eyes widening at the chat. 

The entire Double Life server has joined Hels. Which means they’re probably up by the portal right now, wandering around and looking for him in a dangerous world they’re entirely unfamiliar with, full of hostile mobs, hidden traps, and certain ruthless scientists who’d love to add a few hybrids to their collection.

Shit.

~*~

Somewhere in Hels, a player types furiously on a communicator.

“No,” Atlas calls over his shoulder distractedly, “they won’t be at world spawn. Get me the last coordinates searched by Alisker’s mercenaries, we’ll start from there.”

“Yes, sir,” the scientist says quickly before rushing off.

It’s only been a few minutes since Atlas was alerted to Tango’s arrival in chat- him and one other player. The avian, he thinks. Obviously, this development necessitated that they drop everything and immediately pivot towards an effort to recapture Tango. Amidst giving orders to prepare the flying machines and gather weapons and armor, he’s been frantically trying to reach Alisker via whispers- without looking like he’s too desperate, of course, but he knows that having Alisker’s support in this endeavor will be critical to its success.

All the while, part of his mind is dedicated to puzzling out Tango’s motive.

He had a feeling they’d return to Hels eventually, to try and get the key for Tango’s collar from him. No doubt Tango’s finding its properties rather disruptive to normal life. The only question was whether or not Alisker’s mercenaries would find Bravo before then, allowing them to open a new portal and strike first. The latter option would’ve certainly been ideal, but ultimately, it doesn’t matter. He’s confident they’ll succeed this way, too.

(Failure isn’t an option. Not again.)

What’s most confusing, however, is that Tango seems to have come without any real backup. The other players from his world were quite formidable as a group; Tango must know that leaving them behind will considerably lower his chances of success. So perhaps he doesn’t intend to confront Atlas at all, and is simply content to live with the collar. After all, he’s still wearing the cuffs, all these years later.

The only way to open a portal to Hels- that they know of, at least- is by using a player’s data to lock onto their counterpart’s coordinates. So Tango must’ve opened a portal to Bravo. Perhaps that’s all his goal is- an attempt to make amends with his doppelgänger and provide an escape from Hels. If that’s the case, then they’re working with a limited time frame.

Because if Bravo leaves Hels with Tango, then Atlas is truly out of viable options. All he’ll be able to do is open random portals to any of Hels Tek’s counterparts in the overworld, giving them access to random worlds that Tango is highly unlikely to inhabit. That won’t satisfy Alisker, and Atlas is already on thin ice as it is. No, they need to move now if they have any chance of-

Chat is suddenly jumping with join messages, and some very familiar usernames.

Ah, there’s the rest of them.

Atlas’s runaway train of thought screeches to a halt. If the other members of that world are here now, then it seems like they’ll be going for the key, after all. Which means he can breathe again. They’ve got a difficult conflict ahead of them, sure, but he rather likes their chances here in Hels. And he’s got a much better idea of what they’re up against this time- they won’t be defeated again so easily.

Oh, and Alisker’s finally returned his message. Yes, things are shaping up quite nicely, indeed.

Atlas quickly makes the arrangements, rising from his chair and heading out of his office. The halls of Hels Tek are bustling with activity as everyone scrambles to get ready. Anticipation bubbles in Atlas’s chest. This is his last chance to be victorious; he won’t rest until Tango is locked back in that farm. And, if he plays this right, he’ll have several new additions to his hybrid-farming initiative as well. Already his mind is racing with ideas..

The minutes pass in a blur. Atlas is standing before the flying machines and barking orders, his voice echoing off the garage’s high ceiling, when his communicator beeps again. He glances down, expecting to see another message from Alisker, and draws up short.

Grian tried to swim in lava.

PearlescentMoon tried to swim in lava.

InTheLittleWood tried to swim in lava.

impulseSV tried to swim in lava.

Smajor1995 tried to swim in lava. 

Etho tried to swim in lava.

ZombieCleo tried to swim in lava.

bigbst4tz2 tried to swim in lava.

Smallishbeans tried to swim in lava.

GoodTimeWithScar tried to swim in lava.

BdoubleO100 tried to swim in lava.

Renthedog tried to swim in lava.

Atlas blinks in surprise. The messages are almost simultaneous; a massive die-off like this can’t be anything other than a trap. How curious...  he knows Bravo is rather fond of setting traps, as Alisker’s mercenaries have discovered firsthand. And if the portal they came through was spawned near Bravo’s location… perhaps this was accidental friendly fire?

Another message flashes.

SolidarityGaming was slain by Bravo.

Oh. Nevermind.

Atlas watches chat with bated breath. It hasn’t escaped his notice that, as of right now, Tango is still alive. And if his hunch is correct…

<Bravo whispered to you> hey. I’ve got an offer for you.

Atlas grins.

~*~

[livwritesstuff]

you know that feeling where you’re having a god-awful day and all you really want is a hug but you’re at work so, like, that’s not gonna happen, and you basically just have to stew in all those shitty feelings and wait out the clock? yeah, me too, that’s kind of where this came from.

Eddie had a tough day.

It had started early that morning when the girls missed their school bus – not a huge deal, honestly, he was already gonna be leaving early to go get his car looked at.

But then he got shitty news from the mechanic, and then a meeting with his agent didn’t go the way he’d wanted at all, and then Hazel ended up being a total pain in the ass after he picked her up from kindergarten, and during her relentless haranguing, she knocked one of Eddie’s favorite mugs off the counter. It shattered, obviously, and she cried about it so he’d had to deal with both of those things at once, and it was just a day.

None of it was anything he couldn’t handle – the problem was the compounding nature of it and the way he basically just had to stew in it all until the next obstacle came along and made shit even worse.

All Eddie really wanted was Steve, and how Steve being around made dealing with this stuff so much easier, even if every other circumstance was the same.

He has to share Steve, though, and today he’s sharing him with Steve’s work until four o’clock.

It’s fine.

He can wait until four.

The older two girls got off their bus at half-past three, and, seriously, someone must have put something in the water this morning because they are in rare goddamn form today. If Hazel alone was bad, all three of them together were…well, thrice that. It’s like the universe said I see your bad day and I raise you three elementary schoolers hitting their peak annoyance thresholds simultaneously.

And it’s not like Eddie can even fucking fold, either.

It’s cold and kind of windy outside, which is Eddie’s least favorite weather and he’d thought maybe the girls would want to go right inside, but no. Of course they want to dig out the chalk that got stashed away in the garage last fall, and while Eddie is stuck shivering outside breaking up dumb arguments about who’s allowed to use which colors (he figured the answer was an obvious everyone, but apparently that’s incorrect), Steve leaves a message saying he tacked on an emergency session onto the end of his day and now he’s not out until five.

Eddie doesn’t hear it until he’s back inside, obviously, but when he does it’s like someone ran a whole fucking dagger through his chest.

He’s halfway through making dinner when Steve gets home (he’d actually be done making dinner if the pot of water hadn’t boiled off while he’d dealt with yet another stupid argument), and he drops everything to meet him at the door.

It’s like Steve can tell in an instant the kind of day Eddie had.

“What happened?” he asks as he toes off his shoes.

Eddie shakes his head, “Everything…nothing…I don’t even know. Just…one of those days.”

Steve nods his understanding, and as soon as he’s got his coat hung up he’s pulling Eddie into a hug.

It ends up being kind of a bone-crushing one — that’s on Eddie, though. He’d just fucking needed it. He knows he’d needed it when Steve’s arms tighten around his shoulders and he feels that much better.

“You okay?” Steve asks without letting him go, the breath of his words hitting warm against Eddie’s neck.

“Just tired,” he answers.

Steve pulls away.

“You can take a break, Ed,” he says, and there’s something in his eyes – not concern, exactly, but more like awareness, “I’ll be up in a bit.”

Eddie just nods and heads for the stairs. As he goes, he faintly hears Steve asking, “What the hell did you guys do to Dad today?”, followed by the girls’ defensive protests.

In their room, Eddie makes it through one full rerun of Star Trek and then the first few minutes of a second before Steve joins him.

He notices that it’s quiet downstairs for the first time that evening, and he tries not to take it too personally. He’s always been comfortable in the knowledge that Steve might be better at the whole parenting thing than him (psych degrees and all that), but, shit, if he’s that much better…

“What’d you do, strangle them?” Eddie asks as Steve swaps his jeans out for a pair of faded plaid pajama pants.

“No, I told them that if I hear a single peep in the next hour I’m beheading all their stuffed animals.”

Eddie blinks.

Okay, maybe better isn’t exactly the right word.

“So they’re on verbal lockdown, basically,” Steve finishes.

“Jesus Christ, Steve,” Eddie shakes his head, “You’re kind of crazy.”

“Yeah, well, you were always gonna rub off on me one of these days — don’t.”

And Eddie couldn’t help the way he threw his head back and laughed.

[prodagustd]

the road not taken 04 | myg

part four: a wish

Summary: Were you about to go crazy if you started to consider that Yoongi felt something for you?

<part three | part five>

—pairing: lawyer!yoongi x actress!oc

—rating: +18

—genre: brother's best friend, one sided pinning (or both?)

—warnings/tags: slow burn, angst, FLUFF ❤️‍🩹, eventual smut, angst, sexual tension!!!!! flashbacks, ANGST!! mentions of sex 👀Btw english is not my first language!

—words: 9.6k

—a/note: hiiii friends!!! i'm glad to say that it didn't take me six months to post this :D. I genuinely went through the most stressful two months of my life so I'm really proud that I could finish this chapter while trying to survive this thing called being an adult!! Anywayy, I’m excited for this chapter but I’m MORE EXCITED FOR THE NEXT ONE… 👀 so please have patience with this story!!! I promise it’s worth it hehehe. As always, you are more than invited to discuss this chapter in the asks, feedback is always welcomed <3 this one is very fluffy i hope you enjoy ittt. (Also if you read a typo, no you didn’t)

series masterlist | teaser | playlist

Four years ago

Seven days before New Year’s Eve

Were you too naive to still believe your father when he said that you were granted a wish every Christmas? He used to say that every year when he was still around and you were still a kid, when the clock struck twelve you could wish anything you wanted, as long as it wasn’t something material or more presents, you had to wish for something special, something that made you happy. 

The last Christmas before your father passed away you were seven years old and still believed in Santa Claus. That year, for some reason, your wish slipped your mind, you forgot about it completely. You stayed at your house, watched movies the whole day in your pajamas and at midnight your parents let both you and Simon open only one present before sending you to bed. You remembered how your father chased you to the stairs to tickle you until you cried of laughter and how good the cookies your mother made that night were, perhaps that year you were too happy to remember making a wish, perhaps what you had was enough. When you woke up the next morning, you were sad that you had wasted it, but your father, wise as ever, told you not to worry. He said that it was like you were saving your wish for the next year — maybe then it would be stronger, and maybe, since you waited, you would have a better chance of it coming true.

By the time Christmas came the following year your father was already gone, and with him all the magic of the world. You had to grow up, you stopped making wishes and tried to stop believing in stories, but it was difficult when his words were still at the back of your mind like some sort of tradition every holiday season. Despite knowing that magic didn’t exist and perhaps not a single wish of yours had ever come true, you still couldn't help but believe you still had your last wish, and everytime the idea of finally making it crossed your mind, you stopped to tell yourself you could still wait another year, just to be sure. 

That morning you saw Yoongi leaned over his car, adjusting his cap as he saw you walking over to him and you thought about your saved wish for the first time this year. And then again when he grabbed your hand to drag you out of the room, or when he waited for you at the bottom of the stairs before leaving the house, but you wouldn’t admit it, not even to yourself. 

He dragged you all across your grandmother’s hometown as if you didn’t know it like the palm of your hand, as if the streets weren’t filled with kids running and whole families doing last-minute gift shopping, but he didn’t seem to care, so for once, you didn’t let it annoy you either. You observed the happy families and the kids playing in the snow, and sat in the park for as long as the cold weather allowed.

It was like you entered a trance, you tried to fight the urge to snap out of the moment and talked and talked the whole afternoon about everything and nothing at the same time, Yoongi listened and laughed while playing with the ends of your hair, pushing you closer to the edge of illusion. If you weren’t so adamant to stay in that blurry haze, you would’ve done something to stop him, you would’ve push his hand away when he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, you would’ve hated how easy it was for him to play dumb, how natural it was to touch you without feeling something was wrong. You ignored it instead, you ignored him and his wandering hands and the fact that he didn’t dare to mention the moment you shared in the closet, nor the way your noses brushed together, or how his fingers hugged your waist as if you weren’t just friends. Even if you would’ve died for him to say a word about it, to tease you, to attempt to make fun of you just to know that what happened was real and not something you dreamt last night.

If you were really dreaming, you held on to your sleep for a while. When Yoongi found that secondhand bookstore five blocks away from the park, he grabbed your hand when you ran across the street before the traffic lights turned green and stayed inside wandering the aisles with him, you let him lean over to whisper jokes in your ear and you punched his arms when he made you laugh a little bit too loud. You tried to keep your voices low and made a list of books to read the following year. You didn’t buy any of them but you read the prologues and the author’s biographies like it was the most interesting thing in the world. You waited for Yoongi when he started to talk with an old man about a book he needed for college and, when he felt you drifting away, he hooked one of his fingers on the belt loop of your jeans and pulled you close to him again. You felt his hands on your waist, keeping you pressed against the side of your body while he pretended to be focused on the conversation, but he was focused on something else. His long fingers played with the waistband of your jeans as your chest felt tight and your breath felt heavier. Maybe you were beginning to go insane, maybe you had a fever and everything was just a product of your imagination, but a tiny voice inside your head quietly suggested that maybe this time you weren’t insane, maybe it was just him.

It was getting dark outside, and you were supposed to be home anytime soon, but he turned his head to you and whispered in your ear that you should save a seat at the coffee shop next door and wait for him while he paid for the book. Even if it was cold and snowing neither of you wanted to return home yet, so you agreed. You made your way to the cute little coffee shop adorned with Christmas lights and sat on a table to wait for him to arrive at the table, until you saw him entering the shop with a book wrapped in brown wrapping paper in his hands. 

You observed him approaching with your face on the palms of your hands, you watched his eyes scanning the place until they found you in some poor illuminated corner. He smiled, his eyes never left yours as he made his way to your table, and when he sat in front of you, he slid the book towards you. 

“This is for you.” He simply said, crossing his arms over his chest like it was no big deal. 

You frowned, confused. Did Yoongi get you some lawyer book? You didn’t know, you grabbed the wrapped book in your hands and scanned it as if you were able to see through the envelope. “The book you needed for college?”

“It’s not that.” He huffed. “It’s a present.” 

You tried to bite back a smile, but you failed. “Is this your way to tell me you forgot to buy me a Christmas present?” You joked, making him roll his eyes. 

“C’mon, you know me.” He said “I would never give you a Christmas present before Christmas, are you crazy?”

You laughed “So is this not a Christmas present?” You inquired, teasing him. 

“It is a Christmas present, but not the Christmas present that I got for you.” He tried to clarify, and it sounded confusing but you understood him anyway. 

You nodded, tearing the wrapping paper to reveal that Yoongi just bought you an Anne Sexton poetry book, the title “Love Poems” shinned in red on the cover, making you hold your breath for a second. 

You raised your gaze from the book to find his eyes, which were looking at you expectantly, the same way someone looked at the moon, yearning. The same way you were looking at him. 

“How did you know…?” The question died in your lips.

“I just know.” He cheekily said, and that was enough.

You know me, he said, and you felt your heart aching when you realized that Yoongi knew you too, and it was becoming impossible to escape from it.

You spent these past weeks trying to make it disappear, but there it was again, that strange feeling you felt in your chest, like something tugged from a string tied to your heart to try and steal it away. You were sure Yoongi thought he had his ways with you, that he was some kind of genius that knew exactly what to say and what to do to erase the frown from your face and make you laugh, but the truth was that he didn’t need to do much effort to win you over, the truth was that he already had you. He had you then, and he had you now and you weren’t sure if that was ever going to change, but today you didn’t care, you let him walk you home as he wrapped his arms around your shoulders like that warm wouldn’t chill you to the bone when he left. 

You had successfully gone through dinner without having to answer questions about college, or your future, or anything about yourself at all, part of it was because your grandmother didn’t ask any questions to begin with. Maybe you were a bit jealous that she seemed more interested in Eva, your cousin, who was a biochemist and just got engaged, or Aidan, your other cousin, who was just admitted into college, or even Yoongi, who was about to graduate, however, you felt relieved that the attention was not focused on you. You were used to your family thinking that you were a thirteen year old teenager and not a twenty one year adult, the attention was never really on you, sometimes it bounced on you accidentally like a ball and, from time to time, you got to share a glimpse of information about your life, but most of the time your mother answered for you as if you were a kid in the hospital room, trying to include you in conversations and talking about your own projects, and that was enough for everyone. 

In the past, your mother had sat you down several times to explain that your grandmother was never an easy woman, she reassured you that her judgmental behavior was a reflection of herself, not of you. She always offered to let you stay at home if you wanted to, but you refused only for the rest of the family, you could stand being with your grandmother if that meant being with the rest of them. And you learnt to endure it all: your grandmother’s judging look, all the talking about your cousin’s achievements, their goals, projects, flawless record, and the fact that everyone seemed to be finding their paths except for you. You had to learn to pretend you were happy for them and not jealous, you took several breaths and moved on, and for a while you thought that after two decades of your life you had finally mastered the art in not giving a fuck about what your family thought about you, until today when you ran to hide in the closet so they wouldn’t find you. 

You had to work on that, you knew that, but at least for now the blatant disinterest for your life spared you from having to explain your life crisis, at least Yoongi was by your side, redirecting attention to him and the real question everyone wanted to ask but no one dared, a question that eclipsed any other topic of conversation: what was happening between the two of you? 

You looked at him next to you, charming as ever, talking with your uncle across the table. He decided to put on his glasses, his cheeks were pink and the sleeves of his blue sweater were rolled up to his elbows, his arm was casually resting on the top rail of your chair and every time he made a joke he looked at you to check if you were laughing. Every attempt he made to try to make you part of the conversation made your heart swell, but you were more than happy just observing him blending into your family as if he were part of it; you wanted to be as clueless as everyone on the table and believe that Yoongi could be sitting next year at this very same table to be there for you, for a moment you allowed yourself to dream of a reality where he saved you from every family gathering like he was doing tonight.

From the tip of your nose to the tip of your toes you felt warm, almost as if you had a fever. It was probably because you were still wearing your black sweater inside the house or because the memory of the book Yoongi gave you kept your cheeks burning red, or maybe because when dinner was over and your family lingered over the table for the longest time they could, you saw Yoongi tilting his head towards the stairs, meaning it was time to go to bed. 

There was a couple differences between this weekend and the night Yoongi slept with you after coming back from The Alley, that night you wouldn’t have ask him to stay over if you were sober, and he most likely wouldn’t have stay if he wasn’t high, tonight you had to share the room, but it was impossible for you not to be dramatic and always make big deals out of small things. Unlike you, Yoongi didn’t flinch when you told him you were going to sleep in the same room, you failed to remember that you were the one who had a decade-long crush on him and not the other way around.

Now the house was quiet and everyone was scattered around the floors, your cousins were in the living room with your uncle, your grandmother was already in bed, your mom was in the kitchen washing the dishes and Yoongi was upstairs, waiting for you. Before going with him, you changed into your pajamas and went to the kitchen to steal a few cookies that your mother cooked for tomorrow morning. You could wait a few hours more to eat the cookies, but you were desperately trying to look for an excuse to prolong the moment you entered the room you were sharing with the man upstairs. 

You entered the kitchen, making your mother turn around from the sink to take a quick look at you before coming back to the dishes. “Are you already going to sleep?” She asked, a curious tone on her voice. 

“Yeah, but I wanted to grab a few cookies first, is that okay?” You inquired, already opening the cabinet above her head to grab a big plate.

“Just a few, remember they’re for everyone.” She warned, and you hummed in response, knowing that you were going to grab more than just a few. 

The room fell silent for a moment, you heard the water running and your dragging feet making their way to the cookies on the counter before she raised her voice again. “Are they for you and Yoongi?” 

You hummed again “Yes, just a few, I promise.” You said, grabbing what it seemed to be a whole batch of cookies to put on the plate. 

You tried to be quick, putting an extra cookie for the road between your teeth and turning around to escape from your mother before she could see you and scold you for stealing way too many cookies. Trying not to make any noise, as if that could make you invisible, you made your way towards the door to escape, but when you thought you were about to succeed, you heard the nickname your mom used for you from the corner of the room, stopping you in your tracks. 

“Wait, darling.” You heard her tone of voice, surprised that it wasn’t annoyed, but rather motherly. 

You turned around slowly with your guard up, as if in that way she wouldn’t notice the cookie between your teeth. You took it out of your mouth, hiding it behind your back.

“Yes?” You answered, remaining calm. You would not give yourself away when you already made this far. 

She closed the faucet, turning around to face you. Her eyes fell upon you, offering you an apologetic smile, which was weird, it was the kind of smile she gave you when she knew she was about to upset you. It wasn’t the kind of face someone who was about to scold you would make, she looked hesitant, almost worried. 

“I wanted to-... I mean, I wanted to ask you about something.” She said, stumbling with her own words. Her eyes were not focused on the plate on your hands, not even in your face completely, like she was trying to avoid your eyes. You felt a rush of nervousness running down your body and quickly dissipating, you didn’t know why. 

“About what?” You inquired, wiping the crumbs from your mouth. 

She sighed, playing with the towel in her hands to keep her hands busy. “I know you don’t want me to be all over your business, and I’m aware you are not a teenager anymore, but I can’t help worrying a little bit.” She explained, or at least she tried.

You frowned, more confused than ever. The conversation seemed to be taking a completely different path than you thought five seconds ago. 

“What do you mean, mom?” You said, taking a step forward, what did this have to do with the cookies?

Your mom pursed her lips, hesitating for a microsecond until the words finally came out of her mouth. “You are already a woman, darling, so I wanted to know if you are… cautious.” She pronounced, making emphasis on the last word and letting it sink in the air, but you still didn’t understand what she was talking about. 

“Cautious with what?” You must've looked like a total fool, asking once again what she meant, but your mother seemed to want you to understand without having to explain. 

She shifted in her place and you saw a flash of embarrassment in her eyes, but it quickly disappeared. “With Yoongi, I mean.” She said, making the name resonate in your ears “I know you’re both adults and you can do whatever you want, but I wanted to make sure that you are using protection.”

The realization fell upon you like a ton of bricks, each word she uttered felt like a different punch to your stomach. You opened your eyes widely, almost choking with your own spit.  “What? No, mom-” You wanted to interrupt her, but she was quick to talk over you. 

“I just want to make sure!” She said like she was apologizing “I don’t mean to be invasive, but it’s important to me that you’re being safe.”

You winced, feeling your face burning as you began stuttering “Me and Yoongi…-We are not, I mean-”

“Honey,” She stopped you, looking at you like she was a sex education teacher trying to explain why you should use protection. “I was not born yesterday, I see things happening, and believe me, I have no problem with you sharing a room, but I can’t help but ask.”

You were left completely speechless, and her constant interruptions while you were trying to finish a sentence were not helping. You racked your brain to find a logical explanation, but you were incapable of forming a decent sentence when she was looking at you like she was a doctor. The fact that your mother thought that you and Yoongi were having sex made your stomach squirm, and how she stated that it was obvious left your head spinning. Did she see you today in that closet and immediately assumed you were… fucking? God, that sounded so bad, so incredibly embarrassing. You still felt yourself blushing when you thought about that moment, you couldn’t even fathom the idea of seeing him without a shirt, less alone having sex with him.

“Mom, please. You don’t have to worry, really.” You tried to explain, but that was not enough to leave your mother content, by the look on her face you knew she didn’t believe you one bit. 

“I know I don’t have to worry!” She defended herself “Yoongi is a great boy, and I trust you… But you know, if things get a bit too frisky...” 

You closed your eyes shut, trying not to picture that in your mind, “God, mom, don’t use that word!” 

“Sorry! I mean… You know what I mean! I hope you’re using protection, no matter the circumstances.” 

You took a deep breath, ninety percent sure you were about to die of embarrassment, but with your last breath you made sure to be clear with your mom so tonight she would sleep peacefully “Believe me, mom. You don’t have to worry, nothing happened between Yoongi and me, I mean it.”

You could see it in her eyes, she was not convinced, and she was right to be so. That was a lie, and she knew it. What happened today was not “nothing”, and your mother knowing that only made your cheeks burn.

“Fine.” She said, struggling to let the conversation go “But if something does happen… Be safe, okay?”

You nodded repeatedly, trying to end the conversation as soon as possible. “Yes, of course.” You promised, but the idea of that ever happening sent a chill down your spine, you tried to shake that thought as far away as you possibly could. 

Your mom smiled and you took it as your cue to go. You tried to walk away, but before you reached the door, she spoke again. 

“And darling?” She said, making you turn around to see her. “I know you don’t like coming here without your brother, so thank you for coming anyway.”

“It’s fine, mom.” You said, and it was true. “At least Yoongi made up for it.”

She smirked, suppressing a laugh. “Oh, I’m sure.”

You rolled your eyes, in disbelief. “Yup, I’m going now, goodnight!” You said, finally escaping from the conversation. You heard your mom’s laugh in the distance as you closed the door behind you to run upstairs. 

Present

When you visited Simon’s apartment for the first time you could clearly notice it was a boy’s apartment from the lack of decoration, the lack of food in the fridge and the amount of boxes still unpacked weeks after moving in, but after you entered through the door tonight you saw a completely different version of it. It was a part of him that you missed out when you were gone, now there were plants on the living room and traces of Florence all over the place, like her purple slippers on the door and the purple toothbrush on the bathroom, her scrunchies on the entryway table and the framed picture of her beside them. You found it endearing, it was like a secret world made just for the two of them, a proper home. 

“When is Florence coming back?” You asked, leaving your bag on the couch. 

Simon took off his shoes, wandering through his house as he turned all the lights on “On Monday.” He replied.

You made a mental note to leave on Monday, even if Simon repeated a thousand times that it was okay for you to stay there on the way here, you didn’t want to intrude in his life. Instead you decided it would be easier to intrude in Minnie’s life, who’s apartment was big enough for the two of you, the only person she shared her apartment with was not an actual person, it was just her orange cat. 

 “I was supposed to go with her.” Your brother kept talking “But me and Yoongi are behind on some work and I had to stay… Well, I’m the one who’s behind, really. Yoongi is just helping me.”

You did not forget that Simon and Yoongi worked together at the same law firm downtown ever since they graduated. You knew that Yoongi got the job as soon as he graduated and then he was followed by your brother, after years it was still impossible to keep them apart, which had become a problem for you. 

You nodded but didn’t say anything about it, you reasoned that Yoongi was still working before arriving at your house, that explained the clothes, the shoes and the messy hair. You sighed just by thinking about it, at least dinner was over, at least your first encounter with Yoongi after four years wasn’t the worst thing that happened tonight. 

It was impossible, but you tried not to think about it too much. Yoongi’s presence was some kind of collateral effect that came with your life, it was too late to detach him from it, but you still tried to run away from it for years and years, only to come back and still find him here, talking to you like nothing ever happened, like you were still friends. 

Yoongi and you were always on different stages of your life, on different places, on different paths, but you seemed to agree on one thing: keep everything secret, no one needed to know what happened between the two of you, that was why Simon was always talking about Yoongi when you called him, that was why he couldn’t stop talking about it him now, he didn’t realize that you didn’t want to know anything about his best friend, you could never told him why.

You followed your brother to his guest room as he talked and talked about how smart Yoongi was and how he was capable of taking so many different cases and not dying in the process, how nice it was to work with his best friend and blablabla. You swore that if you heard the name one more time you would explode, so you decided to drastically change the subject of the conversation, you were willing to say anything to take his name out of your brother’s mouth. It took a second, but when the room fell silent, you looked at your feet, a bit unsure, gathering enough courage to finally say what you’ve been meaning to tell him since you arrived home.

“I’m sorry for not telling you about the proposal.” You softly spoke, and Simon, who was looking for a blanket in the closet in the corner of the room, turned his head to look at you. “I wanted to tell you in person, but I wasn’t planning for that article to come out, I didn’t want the whole world to know.”

Simon left the blanket on the bed, turning his body to look at you more clearly. “Mom told me that you think Ian leaked the news” He mentioned, and you nodded, at the risk of looking crazy. 

“Sally suggested it.” You confirmed, sitting on the bed “And if he didn’t, he’s fine with it anyway. He doesn’t care if people see me as this bitch who broke his heart, I might as well be.” 

He looked at the wall behind you, confused. “I think I missed a chapter here.” He said, sitting on the edge of the bed “Maybe more than one. Weren’t you in love with him?”

You wanted to grab a pillow, bury your face on it and scream as loud as you could, but for the sake of looking like a sane person you contained yourself. “I thought I was.” You said sincerely. you believed there was a time when you were sure you were in love with Ian, there were moments you thought that the good things about him could outweigh the bad things, but deep down you knew that if you were really in love you wouldn’t have to do all that math, you wouldn’t have to fight to ignore his arrogance and his big ego. 

“And when did you realize that you weren’t?” He continued to ask “Or when did you realize he was a jerk?”

You scoffed, bitterly. “I guess I always knew both, I tried to make it work regardless. I enjoyed being with him for some time, but then he planned an engagement party full of people I didn’t even know. He didn’t care to call any of you and expected me to say yes… Does that say more about him or me?”

He kept quiet, not knowing what to say, but you already knew the answer. 

“Ian was an asshole, kid. He was jealous of you, of your family, of your job, none of us understood why you were with him.” 

“That was not what I asked.” You laughed, rolling your eyes. “Ian was a prick, I get it, but I wasn’t much better either.”

“You can’t make me think you deserve each other, are you kidding?” He said. 

“I can’t blame him for everything, I made my own bed.” You huffed “I was terrible and it took me almost four years to snap out of it, that was not his fault.” 

“You are right, but you’re here now, aren’t you?” He reminded you, calmly. “Isn’t that what’s important?” 

You began to become exasperated “C’mon, Simon, don’t try to be nice, you’re supposed to be mad at me.” 

“I am mad at you.” He corrected you, sending a chill down your spine “You’re working all the time, you never call, never text back, we barely see you and the only way to know about your life is when we read some article saying you broke up with your boyfriend because he proposed to you, are you kidding? Of course I am mad, but because I miss you.”

You felt a wave of regret hitting all your senses, suddenly your eyes were burning with tears and you are not supposed to cry, you knew that, but the single tear that slid down your cheek was quicker than any thought that could cross your mind. Somehow, you wished your family hadn't noticed how absent you'd been these past few years, that they just shrugged and said “that’s just her” and forgot about it, it was not necessary to look at Simon’s face to know that he couldn’t just forget about it. He loved you, your mother loved you too, you didn’t have a family that you would want to run away from, but you did it anyway,

“I’m sorry…” You murmured, looking at him with eyes full of regret. “It wasn’t you, it wasn’t any of you, it was me. I was so angry when I left, I didn’t know how to handle it.”

You wouldn’t trade your career for anything, it was one of those few things that made you happy, but after years of trying to convince yourself that every decision you made for the last few years was the right choice, this was the first time that you admitted that maybe you weren’t thinking clearly when you decided to move to the city and never look back. 

Simon frowned, thinking about it twice before asking “Were you angry, bug?”

You tilted your head, giving him a sad smile, hoping that it could explain everything.”I was quite angry, yes.” You answered “Not at you, though.” 

“At mom?” 

“Maybe a little bit at mom, yeah.” You laughed, shaking your head. You sighed deeply, letting the silence sit in the room for a moment before you could put in order all the things you wanted to say. “I remember when I told her I left college she looked at me like I finally lost my mind, it was like she saw it coming, you know? Me, again, being lost, it was not a surprise, but rather something she would expect of me. I know she was just worried and I know I can be a lot sometimes, but it hurt anyway. I don't blame anyone, Simon, but all I needed was someone to believe in me and no one did. I had to leave.” Something ached inside your chest because that was not the whole truth, but it was all you could say tonight, you couldn’t say that Yoongi was also one of the reasons. “I’m not trying to justify myself.” You mumbled “I’m just saying that I was so angry that I didn’t realize how many mistakes I made.” 

The silence that took over the room was so strong it made your stomach squirm. You shifted in your place, but Simon stayed there, with his gaze lost somewhere in the room as he processed what you just said. 

“I always believed in you, you know that?” He spoke, causing your head to snap up towards him. “I know a lot of people tried to tell you that you weren’t, but you’ve always been special and I’ve always seen it.” 

“I know you did.” You sighed. “But I was being so stubborn, I walked away and I’m so sorry.”

“I know you think you’re too much, but you’re not.” He continued talking “Maybe mom just wanted everything to be simple, for her kids to go to college, graduate, get a job and a home and never have to worry about whether they are choosing right or wrong ever again. But you’re not simple, bug, you’re extraordinary and talented and too brilliant to stay still, but you’re not too much, not for me.” 

You held back a sob, feeling ridiculous. “I’m sorry.” You said, once again, because you haven’t said it enough times.

“It’s okay now, I mean it.” Simon reached for your hand to squeeze it tightly. 

You sniffed “God, I should be comforting you for being a bad sister, not the other way around” 

“I don’t need to be comforted, I’m okay as long as you’re here.” He tried to cheer you up. “And you were not a bad sister, you were sad and acted shitty.” 

You smiled, because you told Simon that you were angry but instead he heard that you were sad, you didn’t feel like correcting him because he wasn’t so wrong about that. 

“I’m sorry.” You repeated once again like a scratched record, making him laugh. “Are you still mad at me?”

“No.” he replied, “But only if you promise not to disappear again.” 

You raised your hand, extending your pinky finger in front of his face. “I promise you, Simon, I will not disappear again.”

Simon tangled his pinky with yours, making your promise impossible to be broken, and your soul felt at ease for a moment.

“Fine, good enough for me.” he said, throwing himself back onto the bed. “Now I want to hear everything about the proposal, and I want you to describe to me exactly the face he made when you said no.”

You laughed, throwing yourself on the bed the same way he did and tried to summarize the last three years in just one night. Only for today, your body did you a favor and your head stopped spinning at least for now. Something began to feel right.

Four years ago

Seven days before New Year’s Eve

You could hear the radio at the end of the hallway in your grandmother’s room, softly playing jazz to cancel out the outside noise. Not everyone in the house liked the radio, your cousins always said that it was annoying and kept them awake, but it was still one of those old habits of your grandfather that remained in the house even if he was no longer here, so you liked it. The music inevitably seeped under the door of your room, Yoongi hummed some Frank Sinatra song as if he knew the lyrics to it, making you laugh and beg him to stop. 

You know it’s almost midnight, as your roommate just informed you, but you didn’t want to turn the lights off yet. All of the cookies already disappeared from the plate, Yoongi was laying on his side the same way you were and the lamp on the nightstand warmly lighted up his brown eyes, you couldn’t help but feel you were not supposed to be in such presence, his messy hair and the loose white shirt he wore to sleep, his sleepy eyes, his pink lips; it looked just like the kind of view that was bound to haunt you forever. 

The nightstand that separated you was not far enough to stop that pull from the string in your chest, not when he was looking at you like that, his gaze fixated on yours like he didn’t want to leave you awake alone, and neither did you. You felt yourself shaking because, what was the version of you that existed when you were asleep? And what happened inside his head when you were not there? What was happening inside his head right now?

Did you cross his mind the same way he crossed yours? When you finally fell asleep, would he remember that moment in the closet or would it be just water under the bridge? Did he spend every waking second of the last seven hours thinking of that fleeting moment when you could almost feel his lips on yours?

Or was that just you?

The night was fading away, your eyelids were getting heavy but you still couldn’t find the will to sleep. 

“I’m sorry for today.” You almost whispered, gathering enough courage to mention the little accident “I’m sorry for dragging you with me to the closet.”  

He smiled softly, closing his eyes for a second. “It’s okay, it was cozy.” He teased you, making you groan in annoyance. He laughed loudly at your reaction, annoying you even more. “I’m serious, it was okay.” 

“Was it really?” You asked him “Wasn’t I being silly?”

“It's okay being silly sometimes.” He assured you, but that did not ease that anxious feeling in your stomach. He seemed to see it in your face. “What’s wrong with being a little silly? I would’ve run from your grandmother, too.” 

You bitterly laughed, covering your face with the palms of your hands “Stop, I’m being immature.” You groaned “I’ve got to get my shit together.”

“C’mon Pinky, you have to stop with that.” He said. 

“I would if I could.” You remarked.

“Didn’t you say you were going to get your shit together after the holidays?” He reminded you “Why are you worrying right now?”

Yoongi was right, that was the initial plan, but ever since you came back home everything was pointing in different directions and it was beginning to drive you crazy, it was like the universe was forcing you to think about it, it was not letting you run away from it, not even temporarily. First, it was Yoongi, showing up every few days at your doorstep, grabbing your hand, squeezing your legs, whispering things in your ear like he wanted you to go insane, it was Minnie, offering you a job, talking about The Alley, saying you were supposed to be on the big screen, and then it was your mother, expecting you to make up your mind once for all. And still, you had your whole life ahead, why were you worrying right now?

“I don’t know…” You sighed “What if I come back next year and the plan was not good enough? What if I end up hiding again from everyone?”

Yoongi shifted in bed, curious “Do you have a plan, Pinky?” The nickname rolled off his tongue softly, you swimmed in the tenderness of his voice, something about it made you want to tell him everything.

“Not really, I mean… It all sounds so bad.” 

“You have a plan.” He affirmed, smiling “I want to hear it.”

“It’s not a plan.” You contradicted yourself “If it were a plan, it would suck.”

Yoongi hummed “It’s something like a plan, then.”

You scrunched your nose, unsure. “Yeah, but not quite like a plan, something like a…” You said, but the words died on your lips before you got the chance to finish. 

“Something like a dream, then?” He continued to ask, but you shook your head.

“Something close.” You expressed, unable to find the right words to explain your thoughts. You stayed silent for a second, believing he was beginning to lose interest in the topic, until the words slipped past his lips like a spell.

“Something like a wish.” He pronounced, and he was not asking, it was almost like he knew. 

You thought there was not much difference between a dream and a wish, but in this case, there was. 

You smiled at him, nodding, somehow you felt you could trust him with all your secrets “Yes, like a wish.” You affirmed, and it felt like a confession. “I don’t know Yoongi, have you ever stayed up late and planned something but when you woke up next morning you felt it was stupid? Well, I do that every night.”

“I’m sure that whatever it is, it’s not stupid.” He said, making your heart swell.  

“I would like to believe you…” You murmured “Do you have a dream, Yoongi? Something you’re too scared to wish for?”

You could see him think about it for a moment, but his eyes were still connected with yours. Oh, how you wished to be inside his mind right now, read his thoughts, witness his dreams, know all his secrets.

“Yes.” He confirmed, “But I can’t talk about them out loud right now.” 

You laughed, biting your bottom lip. “Okay, fair. What about those you can say out loud?”

“I’m not going to tell you because you’re going to laugh.” He pouted, making you frown. 

“Laugh?” You repeated, sounding more offended than you actually were. “I would never, c’mon.”

He raised an eyebrow, testing you “You sure?”

“Of course, don’t piss me off.” 

“Fine, fine.” He let out a long sigh, believing you. “My wish would be… to stop time for a while. Sometimes I believe I can’t think when time’s running, all I do is study and come home to my mom, there is very little time that I have for myself.”  

You felt your chest tighten, but it didn't surprise you that Yoongi felt this way. He already mentioned to you that, even if taking care of his mother didn’t feel like a burden, he still felt he was missing out on so many things. 

“And what would you do if time stopped right now?” 

Yoongi shifted his eyes for a moment, and you almost missed it but you saw it, the urge to hold back and the words getting stuck on his throat. 

“Mmm…” He hummed, “I’ll go to the beach.”

“In winter?”

“Yes, I wouldn’t care.”

“And where else?” You continued to ask.

“Honestly? I’ll go anywhere but home.” He confessed.

“What’s wrong with home?” You of all people knew exactly what was wrong with home, but you wanted to hear why he thought that. 

“Home it’s okay,” He waved off. “It just feels like I spent my whole life there. I went to college expecting something to change, and a lot of things did but I still feel like something else is supposed to happen, like there's something else for me to see.” 

It was looking in a mirror, it was the same thing you’ve told him a few days ago but in other words, in another tone. Yoongi sounded resigned, like his wish was clearly something that was not meant to happen and he needed to come to terms with it, nothing could ever make you more sad. 

“There’s plenty for you to see, Yoongi, are you kidding?” You chuckled  “You’re twenty five, you’re barely grasping life.” 

He scoffed, bitterly, “It’s not that easy.” 

“Of course it is easy, do you know it’s not necessary to stop time to go to the beach?” 

“I know, Pinky.” He agreed, “But what does it feel like running away?” 

“Running away would be so bad?” You asked, hearing the question echoing in the room, letting you know that maybe it was something you weren’t supposed to wonder out loud. Yoongi didn’t dare to ask such a question, but you seemed determined to make his wish come true, maybe you were the only one who could do it. 

“Don’t ask me.” He said, looking at the ceiling to avoid your gaze.  “Don’t act like running away isn’t your wish as well” 

You snorted, immediately grabbing a pillow and threatening to punch him in the face with it, but Yoongi is quick to cover his face with his arms.

“Don’t!” He protested, laughing.

 “Don’t expose me like that!” You whined, embarrassed. 

“What, am I wrong?” 

“Maybe you’re not…” You dared to answer, leaving the pillow on the bed again “But how do you know?”

“I told you, Pinky.” He murmured “I just know.”

You shook your head in denial, how could it be? Were you really that transparent or Yoongi really just knew? 

“What else do you know?” You continued to ask, curious. 

He pretended to think about it, pouting his lips and looking at the ceiling as if the answers were to fall from the sky. His eyes shifted towards yours, tilting his head “I know that you would run away to the beach with me if I asked you to.” 

A giggle was built in your throat, you laughed nervously as you tried to decipher if he was joking or not, even if Yoongi could see right through you, it was a bit difficult for you to do the same with him. 

“I don’t know about that.” You said, ignoring the way your heart was beating against your ribcage. “Do you mean in… an hypothetical scenario?” 

“It’s a hypothetical proposal.” He answered.

“I’ll have to check my schedule first.” 

A smirk tugged from the corner of his lips. “What about… two weeks away from now?”

You did the calculation in your head, but you already knew that by then Yoongi would have to go back to class, so you doubted. “What about the semester?” You asked, trying to be the voice of reason. “Your last semester, might I add.”

“That could wait.” He did not hesitate “Isn’t it part of running away? Leaving things behind?”

You laughed “And what would people say about me, then? That I made you leave college, nuh-hu.” 

“Here we go again with that.” He rolled his eyes “I don’t care what people say and, besides, I’m not leaving college, I’m… postponing it.” 

That didn’t sound like the Yoongi you knew at all, but then again, this whole conversation didn’t sound like anything Yoongi from the past would say. A thousand questions crossed your mind, like what do you do on the beach in winter? Wouldn’t being alone be a problem? What are you going to talk about, where are you going to stay? If you say yes, would he grab your hand when you crossed the street, would he try to kiss you again? 

You crossed your arms, thinking about it, not daring to agree right away, but how could you say no? When he was looking at you, convinced that you would say yes. 

You opened your mouth, not sure what you were going to say but still ready to answer, and before you could utter a word, he interrupted you. “Run away with me to the beach, Pinky.” He asked in a soft tone, looking at you with warm eyes and warm words, making your heart shake violently in your chest “Only for now, I promise I’ll make it worth it.”

You smiled, ignoring that little person inside you that tried to warn you about something, but you weren’t sure about what because all you could feel was your heart racing. “Fine, I’ll follow you for now.” You simply said, trying to sound as cool as possible “Let’s run.” 

In that moment you forgot about years and years of disappointment and failed dreams, failed wishes, you ignored the reality, deciding everything was false and true at the same time. You didn’t need to look at the clock to know that it was midnight, something inside your chest sparkled and told you it was time to make your wish, and for some reason, you listened. It echoed in every corner of your mind, your wish was the beach in winter. 

Four days before New Year’s Eve

Two weeks ago, when you bought Yoongi’s Christmas gift, you thought about it like a farewell. You stood in the shop and talked to the tall man with the long face and chose the gift as you tried to convince yourself this was a way of saying goodbye to him. 

That Christmas morning Yoongi tore the brown wrapping paper and opened the long box to find that you decided to give him a red tie. It wasn’t bright red, it was deep dark red, red like a rose. It came with a notebook and a pen with his initials on them. In your mind, you were giving away that version of him that lived in your head and clung to your thoughts and clung to your heart, that version of him you could never let go. Yoongi was about to graduate, he was about to become officially a lawyer, an adult, a man, he wasn’t that boy you fell in love with years ago, he was a wish you had to let in the past and your gift was just a way to remind you of it. You had a purpose, a plan, you had everything figured out until he decided to ask you to run away with him, until you said yes.

His gifts for you were a vinyl copy of Is This It by The Strokes, two tickets to watch When Harry Met Sally at the Alley the following week and a pair of red gloves for the rest of the winter. 

Yoongi looked at you and smiled like you both knew something everyone else in the room didn’t. “The gloves match with the tie.” He had said.

So now you had no plan, what you did have though, was a bunch of pictures of several locations Yoongi thought of booking for your trip to the beach. You were doomed. 

You thought the only person in this town who could possibly understand what you were going through was Minnie, the only person in the world who knew about your feelings for Yoongi, and the only person who you could call a friend at the moment. 

You weren’t expecting to see Minnie again when you saw her at The Alley a few weeks ago, but she had different plans; it was like she forced you to be her friend again. You tried to stop thinking you didn’t deserve it, you had to swallow your guilt and accept her friendship, and after a few five hour calls filled with gossip, you ultimately decided not to be against it, even if she called you everyday and still talked nonstop about that audition in the city, talking with her felt like you were still fifteen, and you liked it.

That night, as she raided her closet looking for a dress for you to wear at the New Year’s party at The Alley, you sat on her bed and gave her a run down of everything that happened with Yoongi since you came back home, it didn’t take her much to get you to admit that you were still in love with your brother’s best friend, so you might as well be honest and tell her everything. 

“You’re being stupid right now, sweetheart.” You heard her muffled voice from inside her closet. The next thing you saw was a piece of fabric flying in the air and landing at your feet. You grabbed it, putting in front of you to reveal a short pink dress that you would never, ever wear. 

You snorted, leaving the dress on the pile of clothes that you already rejected. You seemed to forget that Minnie was not the most adequate person to talk about “boy stuff”, perhaps because she was way too honest. You didn’t know whether it was a mistake or not to tell her about the trip to the beach, because all the questions she was asking and all the things she was stating to be true were thoughts you were desperately trying to avoid. 

“He wants to fuck you, I don’t know how else to tell you this.” She said, walking over the clothes to make her way to you. You threw yourself on the bed, covering your face with your palms “I mean, I wish I could only tell you that he’s head over heels for you, and honey, that he is, but he also wants to fuck you.”

You groaned, kicking your feet. “God, you make me want to throw up.”

“Of excitement, I’m assuming.” She affirmed “I’m telling you, there’s no way you’re going on a trip alone and come back without having fucked.”

You looked at her, begging her to stop talking, but she was not finished. “Stop!”

“Picture this.” She ignored you, forming a rectangle with her fingers and looking right through it as if she was directing a scene from a movie “First scenario, a storm causes the power to go out, there’s no electricity, you have no way to be warm so you sleep in the same bed to warm up, there’s tension, you look at each other and kiss, you fuck.”

“Okay, I don’t see that happening.” You shook your head. 

“Second scenario, you just finished showering, you go out of the bathroom wearing only a towel because you think he’s not there, but he is! He sees you, you kiss, you fuck.”

“That’s not… That sounds like porn.” 

“Third scenario!” She exclaimed. 

“Fine, that’s enough.” You stopped her, waving your arms in the air. 

“No, you have to prepare! And when it happens you will know that I was right.” Your friend insisted, but you refused to let any of those ideas in your mind. 

“What if you’re not?” You wondered “What if he just wants to be my friend and I’m just imagining everything?”

“But you are not, are you kidding?” She laughed “That man is clearly in love with you, why are you convincing yourself otherwise?”

You felt Minnie’s body sitting right next to you, causing you to sit back on the bed to look at her face to face. You were sure you were about to start crying out of frustration. “I don’t know, what if I get hurt?”

Minnie pursed her lips “Baby, I can’t answer that question at all, but you have to take the chance.” 

You groaned, annoyed. “I don’t want to take the chance.” You whined “I was fine before seeing him again, I wasn’t even thinking of him.”

“That is a lie,” She laughed, mocking you. “We both know you never stopped being in love with him, now you have him in the palm of your hand, do something.” 

Minnie stood up again, looking for another piece of clothing on the floor as you kept silent, wondering if any of that could be possible. Did you really have him in the palm of your hand? Was he in love with you and you were being stupid for believing that he wanted to be just friends?

“What should I do?” You asked her, hoping that the redhead in the room knew all the secrets of the universe. 

“Invite him to the New Year’s party and wear a hot outfit, how about that?” Minnie offered, like that could answer all your prayers. 

“Would that resolve all my problems?” You joked, talking to the sky. 

“C’mon, he literally asked you to run away with him, don’t you find that a little bit hot? Don’t you really think that was not code for ‘I want to fuck you’?” 

You laughed “Yoongi is not like that!” You protested. 

“I hate to break it to you, but you are hot.” She insisted, throwing another piece of clothing at your face. “And if Yoongi is not blind, he knows that, and let’s not forget the most important fact here.” 

“Which is…?”

“He’s in love with you, let’s start wrapping our heads around that.” She simply said “Once that’s done, you invite him to the New Year’s eve party at The Alley, you wear a hot outfit and confront him about it, tell him to stop playing around.”

You grabbed the dress Minnie just threw at you, which was another short dress, but this one was actually cute. It was black and was covered in black sparkly sequins with thin straps, you were definitely going to freeze to death if you wore that, but you were sure this fitted the description of “hot outfit”. 

Minnie was right, you couldn’t keep running away from the facts, everything was laid on the table, you didn’t need more proof to know that Yoongi felt something for you, even if you weren’t sure if it was the same that you felt for him, you needed to gather enough courage to find out what it was. 

You grabbed the phone in your pocket and opened Yoongi’s chat, you decided to invite him to the New Year’s party. 

taglist: @kingofbodyrolls @overtherainbow35 @namin13 @p34rluv @moonchild1 @yoongisoftface @namgihours @idkjustlovingbts @yoongisducky @bangtansmauyeondan @tarahardcore @wobblewobble822 @secfir @ot72025 @baechugff @heroinanne @mortal-body-timelesssoul @hiii-priestess @wii-wii @jungkookies1002 @busanbby-jjk @acquiescence804 @yoongibaybee @hsbongwater

[tetragonia]

A Wave of Feelings

Rafe Cameron x F!Pogue!Reader

Blurb: Rafe and (Y/N) got into an argument for God knows how many times, about literally anything when they breath the same air, ranging from a small accident to a heated one about their cultural beliefs. But something in the air was different this time. Or was it only in the air? Not something in their heart and mind when the two of you finally realize something big that could change your lives?

Note: I have always wanted to write an angst especially for this character and it has occurred to me one day that arguing/miscommunication plot is kind of my fave trope so here we are lol.

Warning: angst, hurt/comfort, miscommunication, argument, bad writing lol English isn't my first language. also, soft!Rafe in the end!

Words: 1490

The sun hung low over the Outer Banks as Rafe Cameron and you found yourself embroiled in yet another heated argument. This was clearly not the first time you both got into an argument. Some of them were heavy like that one time when your best friend asked you to go to the party just to talk to Rafe (which she did) but then he dumped her after the party and she cried for weeks on your shoulder, or some Kook-owned properties that limited your access, or some insulting banter between Rafe and your friends (that got you realized how much he hated JJ).

But most of the time it was just about silly things: when he knocked up your beer accidentally, when you sailed in front of him and accidentally splashed some water (it didn't even make his already oily hair wet), or when you were napping in a near beach and he claimed that it was his territory (he was in the Cut area, for God's sake!). You two always found a way to argue.

This time, your voices clashed like crashing waves, echoing off the walls of the old shipwreck where you had sought refuge.

"You're impossible, Rafe! Always acting like you own this place, roaming around thinking that you're so much better than us Pogues," you exclaimed, your voice tinged with frustration. Pogues always owned this place, not some rich snobby kids like him, you thought.

Rafe's jaw clenched, his temper flaring and pride wounded. He hissed, "Maybe if you Pogues have some ambitions, you wouldn't be stuck in the same place your whole life!"

Oh, this was definitely one of those heavy arguments.

Your fists clenched at your sides as took a step forward. Your voice trembling with emotion. "You have no idea what it's like to struggle, Rafe. You've always had everything handed to you on a silver platter."

For a moment, you needed to convince yourself that you saw Rafe's gaze softened. You wanted to believe that a flicker of remorse crossed his features before he quickly masked it with a defiant glare. "At least I don't have to scrape by just to survive. Maybe if you Pogues worked harder, you'd actually amount to something."

His words struck deep, a painful reminder of the challenges you and your community faced every day. You recoiled as if struck by a lightning, your eyes stinging with unshed tears and your face was red, "You don't know anything about me, Rafe. You don't know what I've been through."

Your argument drew the attention of Sarah who was nearby with John. She was one of your best friends and you felt nothing but pity every time you realized that she shared the same blood with Rafe. With a furrowed brow, she stepped between you two, her hands raised in a gesture of peace trying to calm you down.

"Hey, what's going on here? Can't you two go five minutes without arguing?" Sarah pleaded, her voice filled with concern and annoyance. She must be tired with all these arguments, you thought. But those were all about Rafe's incapability to control his temper! And that might or might not be your issue as well...

Rafe shot you a scorching glare before turning his attention to Sarah. "Stay out of this, Sarah. This doesn't concern you."

Your eyes flashed with defiance as you stepped forward beside Sarah. "You're the one who concerns everyone with your existence!"

"What did you say to her, Rafe?!" Sarah looked at you with a concern. You were one of her strongest friends and she rarely saw you tremble like this. "Come on, talk it out like an adult, will ya!"

Rafe's fists clenched at his sides, his frustration boiling over. "Talk? What's there to talk about? I said, stay out of this, Sarah."

His gaze turned to you, "You think you know everything, (Y/N). Being the weaker one of the community, blaming us for having some money. If you said that I don't know anything about you, then you also don't know anything about me!"

His words cut like a blade across your pain. Your expression softened, a hint of hurt flickering in your eyes and you were not sure whether Rafe realize that or not. "Let's just cut it out. You would never understand what I've been through. What we have been through. Let's go, Sarah. Let's get out of here."

Sarah watched the exchange with growing concern, her heart aching for her brother and her best friend. She knew there was something deeper at play here, something that neither of them wanted to admit.

"Come on, you two. Let's take a step back and calm down, especially you, Rafe," Sarah suggested, her voice gentle yet firm. She glared at his brother. His face was as red as you, his forehead frowned deep.

You and Rafe exchanged a wary glance before reluctantly exhaled a deep breath. As much as you hate him, as much as you didn't want to admit, you really want him to apologize. The tension in the air began to dissipate, replaced by a palpable sense of unease.

Sarah sighed, running a hand through her hair as she tried to find the right words. "Look, I know things have been tense lately, but I really can't bear another sight of you guys bicker over things. If you still want to do that, please not where I can see you. I need you two to be in your best behavior when I'm around. Especially with you, Rafe. I have enough of you already."

Rafe's gaze softened as he looked at his sister, a pang of guilt tugging at his heart. "You're right, Sarah. I'm sorry for snapping at you earlier."

Sarah still held her concern, but she relieved to see them finally finding common ground. "It's okay. Now I'll leave it up to you. I can't mom you around like this, geez."

She walked away from you both. She lived long enough with both you and Rafe and there was no way she did not realized that beneath the surface, there was a different kind of tension simmered—a tension born from unspoken feelings and unacknowledged desires.

You stood still, refused to meet his gaze. The wind blew your hair as the sun began to set. You started to feel the chill and instinctively hug your own body, fixing your shirt together. You accidently drew a sharp breath when a cold wind sent chills down your spine. You sniffed and looked over the horizon. Refusing to take even the tiniest glance at him, you kept looking at the sea while stroking your upper arm.

Despite the heat of your argument, Rafe couldn't ignore the way the cold seemed to seep into your bones, making you appeared small and vulnerable against the vast expanse of the beach. His heart ached at this view.

You didn't see that he wanted to reach out, to wrap his arms around you and shield her from the biting wind; his hesitation to offer you warmth and comfort in the midst of your argument.

But his pride held him back, a barrier he had built long ago to protect himself from vulnerability and pain. Yet now, standing on the windswept beach with you before him, he couldn't ignore the truth any longer.

With a heavy sigh, Rafe took a step forward, his voice barely above a whisper as he spoke. "(Y/N), I... I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said those things. I was out of line."

Your eyes widened in surprise at Rafe's apology, your anger momentarily forgotten as she regarded him with cautious curiosity. You had expected him to be stubborn, to be the usual Rafe: to dig in his heels and refuse to back down. But instead, here he was, standing before you with such humility you'd never seen before.

For a moment, the two of them stood in silence, the only sound the crashing of the waves against the shore. And then, slowly, hesitantly, you took a step forward, closing the distance between them.

"Rafe," you said softly, your voice barely audible above the wind. "Thank you."

And with that, Rafe's resolve crumbled completely. Ignoring the voice of doubt in his mind, he opened his arms and pulled you into a tight embrace, provided you with the warmth of his body against yours. He could feel the softness of your hair against his cheek and he kissed your head softly it almost gave you a heart attack.

So you were not hallucinating all this time. The glances, the gestures, the underlying concern for her.... He felt the same way, too.

In that moment, with the cold wind whipping around them, you knew that he had finally acknowledged his feelings for you. And as you stood together on the windswept beach, you both vowed to never let your pride stand in the way of your connection again.

[p0orbaby]

i would love something from the “Spark Enough and Something Catches” universe 🥹 was so happy for R allowing herself to be more vulnerable, would love to know how those two cuties are doing further down the line!

-

You never thought you’d end up here—dating a world-famous footballer with legs for days and a laugh that makes your chest feel weird, but here you are, sitting at your kitchen table, staring at a bouquet of flowers she sent you. Just because she can. Of course, they’re perfectly arranged, like something out of a magazine that you’d flip through absentmindedly in a dentist’s office, all pastels and thoughtful greenery. You wouldn’t even be surprised if the florist’s apprentice cried while tying the ribbon, overwhelmed by the sheer beauty of their creation.

The card attached? “Hope these brighten your day, even if you don’t like football. xo, A.”

You’ve been staring at it for about 15 minutes, wondering if this is what people in normal, functional relationships do. Get flowers. Smile. Maybe cry a little, but the good kind. You’d text a thank you, but you’ve already said thanks for the dinner last night, the ride home, and her cooking, which honestly made you feel inadequate. You are now 90% sure you’ve been overthanking her for everything and it’s becoming suspicious. God, the flowers. What are you supposed to do with these? You don’t even own a proper vase.

She’s always surprising you, though. It’s her thing. Like when she made pancakes at 3 a.m. because you mentioned offhand you were craving something sweet, and there she was in your kitchen, half-asleep but determined, whisking batter like her life depended on it. You tried to help, but she gave you that look—half-amused, half-“don’t you dare”—so you just sat and watched. How does someone like her, so capable and graceful on the field, manage to make something as simple as cooking pancakes seem like a scene from a romantic comedy?

And then there’s you, a certified mess, who can barely manage to keep the houseplants alive. You once killed a succulent, a plant specifically designed to withstand neglect, and you still don’t know how it happened. But she didn’t care about that. She just laughed when you told her, like she found it charming. Like that was somehow endearing instead of a flashing neon sign that you have no business being trusted with anything living.

The first time she came over to your place, she brought dinner—because, of course, she did—and you remember her standing in your tiny kitchen, eyeing the pile of dishes in the sink. You were mortified, but she just rolled up her sleeves and started washing them. “I can’t concentrate with these staring at me,” she said, and that was that. It took you five whole minutes to figure out how to process that. What kind of person does that? And why does she keep looking at you like you’re the most interesting thing in the room, when you’re 99% sure you’re the human equivalent of a cat that’s just fallen off the sofa?

You get the feeling she knows what she’s doing, though. She’s patient. Calculated. Like on the field, but now the game’s you, and she’s just waiting for you to realize you’re already cornered. She’s not wrong. You’re screwed.

So, you text her, finally, trying to play it cool. “Thanks for the flowers, very thoughtful. You didn’t have to.”

Her reply is almost immediate. “I know I didn’t have to. I wanted to”

You stare at the message. Of course she did.

[holyblonded]

go ahead and cry little girl | golden girl

pairings: paige bueckers x oc (for a second) diana taurasi x daughter!oc, alexia putellas x teen!oc

summary: kenza never could quite understand why her dad could never show up; times throughout the years kenza has been let down

warnings: daddy issues and deadbeat dad 👻

notes: based off of real experiences 🫡 READ KENZA’S WIKI PAGE FOR BACKGROUND INFO

FOURTEEN YEAR OLD KENZA STARED LONGINGLY AT THE SEAT IN THE FRIENDS AND FAMILY SECTION.

It was her first El Clasico with the senior team and she knew her mom had told everybody. Kenza even invited him. She could hear her teammates celebrating their win as she should be, yet there she was staring at the cold, bare seat. Her eyes shifted to her Mom and Diana who both held sympathetic looks on their faces.

Kenza's inner turmoil was broken by Alexia who ran up and grabbed her face. "What's wrong, Amorcita? You scored the winning goal!"

Kenza couldn't bring herself to answer, instead she kept staring at the seat. Alexia followed her eyes, and after a silent conversation with Nor, she had figured it out. "Lo siento, mi Princesa," was all Alexia could offer as Kenza shoved her head to her chest.

"Why didn't he show up?" Kenza cried, loudly.

"Smile, Kenny!" Diana Taurasi told her freshly turned nine year daughter. Kenza smiled showing her gums off to the camera as the flash went off. "Look at you, pretty girl. Finally nine."

The family had decided to spend Kenza's ninth birthday in London as day after the Olympics ended. While Kenza, was excited to see her moms, she saw them quite often, she was quite revved to see her dad, someone she hadn't seen since early May.

"Mama, when is dad getting here?" Kenza decided to ask her mom. Kenza carefully observed her mom tense up before quickly recovering.

Nor, with a tight smile on her lips, responded, "Let me check, Chiquita."

Diana seemed to pick up on her fiancee's mood, "Aye Kenny, you ready to see Auntie Sue and Auntie Meg?"

Kenza's eyes brightened at the mention of her favorite aunties, "Wait, let me go put on my shoes," the birthday girl ran up the stairs of the rental as Nor unknowingly let go of the breath she was holding.

"Where is he?" Diana asked bitterly. She and the retired NBA player have publicly and privately bumped heads numerous times. Akoni calling her a "wife stealer." While Diana didn't like his alcoholism and reckless behavior around her family.

Nor sighed as tears welled in her eyes, "He's not coming at all. Got caught drinking and driving, he got charged with a DUI so now he's being checked into court ordered rehab," Her heart truly hurt for her daughter.

"Fuck," Diana muttered before pulling Nor into her, "Hey, Kenny is strong."

"That's the thing, she's nine. She's not supposed to be this strong. I keep letting him hurt her," Nor rancorously ranted, a tear slipping down her face before being quickly wiped away by Diana.

"It’s not your fault he is the easy he is,” Diana said through clenched teeth, “Don't worry, I'll tell her." She offered, gently directing her distraught fiancée to the couch before going upstairs to break the news to you. Five minutes later, Diana came downstairs with a sobbing child in her arms who just wanted comfort from her moms.

Kenza leg bounced up and down in the rather comfortable chair, lost in her thoughts. This was possibly one of the biggest nights of her life, the Ballon d'Or Awards; being nominated for the Kopa Féminin Awards has been the highlight of Kenza's season. If she won this award, she would be the first ever recipient to win the category.  Most importantly, it was the first award show her whole family was coming to.

Paige looked at the girl beside her and rested her hand on her knee before whispering in her ear, "I told you once, and I'll tell you again. You are going to win, stop being so nervous."

"I can't help it," Kenza mumbled back, inhaling sharply. Her eyes watched the stage, seeing her Auntie Meg take the stage.

A bit zoned out, Kenza came back to it when Paige nudged her as Megan announced the winner. "The first Kopa Féminin Award goes to..." Megan smiled as her voice broke with emotion, "my Kenny, Kenza Creoxells."

Blood rushed to Kenza ear as she sat there with a dumbfounded expression on her face as she took in the information. She got up after Alexia came to the table and basically pushed her out of the chair.

Taking the stage after accepting the award and hugging her auntie. Kenza looked in the crowd scanning the room, she saw her mom and mami, Paige, her Barca teammates, even some of her friends from UConn and Yale. Her eyes paused on the empty seat, her eyes going to her moms who has the same sympathetic looks on their faces. A odd sense of deja vu washed over Kenza before she shook her head of her thoughts.

"Kenza Creoxells is the first ever recipient of the Kopa Femenin Award earning it for her work with Barcelona Femení." The announcer said making people cheer louder, as the picture of Kenza doing her signature celebration is blown up on the screen.

"Wow, I have nothing to say but thank you. Thank you to my Mama who let me move in with Auntie Alexia because she saw that this was truly my dream. Thank you to my Mami who literally never let me quit no matter how much I wanted to. Thank you to everyone at Barcelona for giving me a chance and my teammates for helping raise me. Thank you for my team and Yale, my friends as UConn and Paige for always being there. You all have truly become my family and I can't ask for any more than that, thank you," Kenza sniffled before she walked off the stage and more applause thundered throughout the building.

Kenza sat outside of her own party, playing with the Barcelona flag wrapped around her. She had escaped the party after winning the Kopa Award, feeling particularly overwhelmed. Her initial plan on sneaking out with Paige was squashed when she saw Mapi talking Paige's ear off.

"My Enzy! Look at ya! Kop' Winner!" A familiar deep voice thundered.

Kenza looked up from her place on the steps, "Dad?" She quickly got up and took a step toward him, "What are you doing here?"

"My daughter won the... the award! Why wouldn't I be here?" Taking the step forward was a big regret on Kenza's part as the smell of alcohol became prominent. Kenza took in his appearance: Red eyes, stumbling around, she knew he wasn’t sober.

Kenza smiled wryly, "You forgot. You forgot like everything else. Why? Why can't you be a good dad for day, just a day." Kenza sobbed as she sat back down on the steps.

Akoni seemed to sober up at the sound of his daughter's sobs. He sat next to her and sighed, "I have a lot of regrets in life, but having you isn't one of them. Not being there for you, is. I'm a deadbeat, drunk with too much money. I was never worthy enough to be your father, I knew that as soon as I held you. After your mom and I broke up, I spiraled. Don't be like me Enzy, be better."

Kenza sobs only grew louder as she rested her head against Akoni's shoulder. "I'm sorry, Enzy."

[starminzoo]

╭──────────────────✎

╰─▗ ▘➤𖥸 attention please

warnings: thigh humping, pet names, hongjoong being down bad for reader (while I am down bad for him), established relation

꒰ risa's note ꒱ hope you guys enjoy!

"joongie~~~ you said five minutes later it's been an hour now, you liar" you whined at your boyfriend who was sitting beside you ( well you had your legs up in the air while your head was facing the ground) on the couch . his fingers working tirelessly on the laptop typing away his assignment "i know baby I know just a few minutes more hmm later we can do whatever you want ok" he reassured you while holding your hand. you grumbled at him but nevertheless your sat up straight and grabbed your phone, you were mindlessly scrolling through TikTok when an idea popped up in your head, you hurriedly got up and went to your room you did look behind to see if joong was staring fortunately he wasn't. you changed into his hoodie which was long enough to look like a dress discarded your panties and sprayed some pheromone perfume on your neck and collarbone.

as you joined joong again on the couch this time you sat close to him head on his shoulder and draping one leg over his own and pushed your core slightly on the side of his leg and grabbed your phone again to look busy. completely oblivious to your real intentions he just smiled at you and went back to work, but he wasn't able to focus anymore as the scent of perfume hit his nostrils literally making his mind go blank his dick started to throb a little in his sweats he looked at you and quickly caught one what you were trying to do but pretended not to notice which was actually really hard for him as he no longer gave a fuck about his assignment anymore he just wanted to to be inside you, your tight warm walls hugging him just right but he wanted you to give in first as your started the game first.

you sat there waiting and waiting for the perfume to work its magic so you can get dicked down right here on the couch but 15 minutes passed and no response from his side disappointed you, so decided to take matters into your own hands and started to rock your hips back and forth on his leg sneakily while watching a video but you weren't sneak enough and hongjoong stared down at you smirked at your action so to not disrupt your pleasure he put aside his laptop and grabbed onto your buttocks lifting you and on his lap the sudden movement caught you off guard but shocked gasp that left soon turned into a short moan as he pushed you down forcefully on his thigh and rocked you back and forth "if you wanted my attention baby you could have just said" (ohh the hypocrisy) " joong please more please" you grabbed his hands and bought them under your hoodie resulting in the hoodie to ride up enhancing the view of your bare cunt rubbing on his leg "fuck baby no panties you were that needy oh my poor baby"

he discarded the hoodie from your body as his started to mould your boobs, fingers pinching the perked nipple as he sucked on one while you humped yourself on his lap, he occasionally flexed his leg to help you reach your high, your eyes closed, one hand on his chest and the other behind you on his leg to brace yourself "ahh fuck so good" eyes fixated on your fucked out expression god you could ask him for anything at this moment and he would have bought it at your feet no questions asked. he dragged one hand down to your cunt rubbing it furiously "that's it baby that's it go on make a mess on my thigh" his encouragement bought you near the edge as your moans and pace increased signalling your high "hah ahhh fuck fuck fuck" you grabbed at his shoulder tightly as the euphoric waves passed through your whole body you cried at the euphoric feeling as it was too good to hold back, you bit your lip to contain your moans you slowly stopped your movement to catch your breath. but as your looked up to see hongjoong mesmerized by such erotic sight it for him cumming in his sweats like teenager you chuckled at when you figured it out that had came untouched you bent down to capture his lips in passionate kiss as your hands went south and started rubbing him from his sweats he moaned in your mouth encouraging you but you pulled away your lips to whisper against his "will you let me use you as my fuck toy joongie, pretty please baby" he groaned and threw his head back while whispering a silent 'please' so you knew you had his consent and went straight to business.

[chaotic-toasters]

Keep in Touch

If you cried, please let me know. I cried while writing this and now I feel like a wimp

Jen Beattie x Teen!Reader Arsenal WFC x Teen!Reader --------------------

You awoke to the creaking of your bedroom door, followed by the dipping of your bed.

"Hey, kiddo," your mam's voice soft, fingers carding through your hair. "Time to wake up. We've got a big day ahead of us."

You cracked your eyes open, blinking rapidly at the light streaming through your window. "Five more minutes?"

She smiled fondly. "Sorry, kiddo. We've got to finish packing, and then we're gonna meet the girls at Colney one last time before they send us off at the airport."

A few months ago, you and your mam had received almost identical offers from the newest team in the NWSL, Bay FC. Your mam had jumped at the promise of something new, but you'd hesitated.

Arsenal was all you'd ever known. You'd grown up in the academy, winning tournaments left and right before signing your first professional contract for the gunners at fifteen years old.

You had memories of Katie chasing you through the Emirates, practicing pens with Kim, and doing media with Leah. If you left, you wouldn't get to make any more of those memories that were so near and dear to your heart.

It was a difficult decision to make, one that your mam assured you was totally up to you. Any of the girls would take you in in a heartbeat if you wanted to stay.

You hated change, and you hated the position Bay FC's offer put you in. Whether you stayed or left, your life wouldn't be the same.

Stay, and be an ocean away from your mam.

Leave, and abandon everything you'd ever known since you were a wee child.

Stay or leave.

Your mam or your found family.

Pain or pain.

Stay.

Leave.

Stay.

Leave.

Realistically, as much as you dwelled on the decision, the choice was made the second you opened your email.

You could never leave your mam. Your mam who never forced you to do anything you didn't want to. Your mam who always made time for you. Your mam who would stay home from matches or training when you were sick. Your mam who always supported you and loved you.

So, you accepted. You accepted the offer to leave the WSL behind, comforted only by the knowledge that your mam would be right next to you the whole time.

It had hurt to accept the California team's offer, a metaphorical knife to the gut, but your teammates had reminded you that you were still in the early stages of your career and could come back later on. That had brought you some sense of relief, knowing that they would gladly welcome you back if you wanted to return.

But now, on the final day of your life in London, it all came crashing down, and you suddenly did not want to leave.

"O-kayyy," you mumbled, rolling off the bed. "When do we leave? To Colney?"

Your mam extended her hand, pulling you up. "In an hour. Get the rest of your stuff, and we'll have breakfast on the way."

-------------------

"He—oof!" You grunted as someone tackled you into a hug, taking you both to the floor.

"I'm gonna miss you, kiddo," Leah's voice wavered. "So, so much."

You squeezed her tightly. "I'll miss you too, Lee. Who'll make fun of your five year-old diet now?"

Katie joined you on the floor, stealing you from Leah's embrace to pull you into her own. "I will, kid. Don't ye' worry."

Leah wiped away a stray tear. "You remember this, Y/N. Once a gunner, always a gunner. You hear me? You'll always have a place hear at Arsenal."

You smiled sadly as yet another one of your teammates stole you for a hug. "Thanks, Lee. I'm gonna miss you all so, so much."

"She was proper crabbit this mornin'," your mam said with a sad smile of her own. "She cried, yelled at me, cried again, then walked into the door frame because she couldn't see through her tears."

"Maaaam!" You turned red as your teammates laughed. "That didn't happen!"

Kim ruffled your hair. "It's okay, sweetheart. You did that exact thing with a goalpost when you were younger."

You tried unsuccessfully to hold in your laughter. "Kimmy!"

Your mam grinned. "Nothin' I'd rather be doing during my last day as a gunner than making fun of Y/N with you all."

Unfortunately for you, that was all that you and your teammates did for the remainder of your time together. Make fun of you. Oh, to be the baby of the gunners.

-------------------

"I don't want you to leave," Kyra murmured, gripping your shoulders desperately as your flight was called. "You're like... my little sister."

You softened at the uncharacteristically wholesome confession, hugging the Aussie who you'd grown so close to tightly. "Keep in touch, Ky. We'll be sure to visit."

"You promise?" you'd never heard Kyra so vulnerable, not even when Australia had lost to England in the Semifinals and been knocked out of the World Cup.

"I promise. I love you."

"I love you too, Y/N."

It was Kim who scooped you up into a hug last, the Scotswoman practically having watched you grown up since your birth. Your second parent in the absence of your father.

"We'll miss you here, kiddo," she whispered in your ear as you tried to hold back tears. It was almost comical, the short Midfielder having to stand on her tippi toes to do so, barely able to reach you even as you leaned down to hear her. "You'd better call or I'm boardin' the nearest fly to San Francisco and takin' you back home."

You patted her on the back before pulling away, averting your eyes before you started bawling. "I will, Kimmy. I will."

As you and your mam boarded the plane, you shoved your fist into your mout to choke back a sob.

Sitting in your seat, the tearful goodbyes of your teammates echoed in your head. They hadn't wanted you to go, and you hadn't entirely wanted go either, torn between two sides, but you'd known this was the right decision. You'd stay with your mam, broadening your horizons and giving yourself more experience.

Staring out the window, you took in the landscape. The English landscape that you'd known your whole life, left behind as you started a new adventure in the United States.

As the plane took off, Leah's voice echoed in your head.

Once a gunner, always a gunner.

[howlyourmelancholy]

Three of a Perfect Pair

summary: in which you're invited to join.

warnings: reader is invited for a moment into wolfstar's relationship. not poly!marauders. threesome. mentions of a posessive sirius. hinted at remus being the dom.

words: 665.

notes: honestly i'm a little disappointed in myself with this one. it just doesn't feel as good as earlier works and i think that's because i've been sick.

This was not what you’d expected when the boys first approached you. Both Remus and Sirius seemed so confident in themselves and secure in their relationship, and the thought of them inviting a third person, let alone you, seemed entirely insane. You knew that Sirius and Remus were wildly possessive of each other, but they'd insisted it was okay, and you'd agreed.

The rules were made perfectly clear—you weren't to be intimate with either of them unless the other was present. You weren't to flirt with them or touch them without the others explicit permission. And you weren't dating them. And that was fine.

But this, your current circumstance with the two boys, was not at all what you'd been expecting; in fact, it exceeded your expectations. Remus had laid himself on the bed, demanding that you both straddle him—Sirius on his waist and you on his face. It amazed you how talented Remus was and how he could split his focus so beautifully between the two of you.

His wicked tongue snacked between your slick folds, prodding at your hole with expertise, making you gasp into Sirius’ kiss. Remus grabbed your hips to pull you against his mouth as Sirius slowly seated himself on his cock, causing both of your lips to part in breathy moans felt against the others tongues. Sirius looked like a beautiful piece of art, with his lips parted and his inky-black hair a mess, as he took every inch of his lover while his own cock bobbed beautifully against his stomach.

You wanted to take him in your hands to feel how hard he was beneath your fingers. You wanted to take him in your mouth until the wiry black hairs at the base of his cock tickled your nose. You could do neither. Sirius fisted a hand in your hair to cement your mouth to his so that he could kiss you as though it were his last night on earth.

It was messy— with open mouth, teeth, tongue, and saliva. You weren't going to complain, not when Remus’ tongue was driving you closer and closer to orgasm in record time. Sirius fondled you without shame or hesitation, touching here, there, and everywhere he could reach, paying special attention to your nipples as he pawed your breasts with heavy hands.

Unable to help yourself, you reached out and wrapped a hand around his cock, stroking him with slow, firm flicks of your wrist while Remus' thrust into him. He felt like iron beneath your fingers, impossibly hard. You were both lost, entirely under Remus' control. You cried out when the boy's tongue pushed through your folds and into your hole, causing your thighs to shudder and shake around his head.

"T-here!"

Your voice was muffled by Sirius' tongue in your mouth, but Remus understood and prodded with his tongue again, hitting the same spot again and again. You braced a hand against his abdomen, which dipped beneath your touch as pleasure rippled through him in time with both of yours.

“Oh, fuck!” Sirius gasped against your lips.

If all of your senses weren't heightened and drawn so tight within your body, you would have been embarrassed about how quickly you came—a record time, to be sure. Had it been five minutes? More or less? It truly didn't matter. White-hot pleasure lashed through your body, starting in your toes and crawling up your spine until it was pouring from your mouth and into Sirius', where it retraced its path down his spine.

Fireworks exploded like the Fourth of July behind your closed eyelids. But it wasn’t just fireworks. It was like shooting stars and meteor showers, and the northern lights were dancing through your veins, setting your whole body alight.

You felt Sirius twitch beneath your fingers, felt Remus’ stomach dip beneath your hand, and felt him groan against your cunt, as they followed swiftly behind you, hurting towards their own release like a train with its breaks cut.

[littlestarbigsky]

five times darry helped ponyboy sleep and one time pony helped darry :)

this took me soo long lol sorry gang

“oh, baby, what are you doing up?” mama asked him quietly.

darry shrugged his little 6-year-old shoulders, “the baby was crying, i wanted to make sure he was okay…”

darry was always a light sleeper. the smallest things could wake him up, a train passing through town, a plane flying overhead, soda tossing a little too much next to him. he also always woke up when the baby cried at night.

ponyboy was still just a tiny little baby, and he had only been around for a couple of months, but darry already knew he would protect him with everything he had. his parents always did say he was born to be a big brother.

darry hadn’t realized at first what had woken him up, at first he thought soda had just rolled over and stolen the blankets again, until he heard the familiar footsteps hurrying towards the nursery across the hallway. he pushed himself out of bed and padded across the hallway, leaning up against the threshold of the nursery to watch mama rock the baby until he quieted down.

“you should go back to bed, sweetheart, it’s so late and you’ve got school in the morning,” mama waved him over and hugged him to her side, gliding a hand through his hair.

“is ponyboy okay?” he asked quietly.

she nodded, crouching down next to him so he could see the baby. she knew he did better understanding things when he could see them for himself, “see? he’s alright, he’s not that great at sleeping all night just yet, though.”

“well cut him a break,” darry smiled. “he’s still new here.”

mama laughed softly and it looked like she was about to tell him to go back to bed again when pony’s fussing and crying started back up.

“can i help?” darry piped up, hurrying over and hopping onto the rocking chair.

mama hesitated, but seemed to decide it was worth a shot, “sure, baby, but if he doesn’t stop crying, though, i gotta take him back. he loves you a whole lot, but sometimes babies just want their mama.”

“i know,” darry nodded, gently taking the baby and holding him in his lap, just like he’d practiced when soda was born.

it took a few seconds of rocking him, but pony started to settle. he let out a couple of whines, but darry had him asleep in a couple of minutes. mama could only stand there and watch her boys, her heart swelling as she watched darry take care of the baby like and old pro.

“your brother really loves you, huh, ponybaby?” she asked sweetly, gently taking him from darry’s arms and holding him close.

“i do,” darry shrugged with a small smile.

“i know you do, baby,” she bent down and kissed his forehead. “now why don’t you head back to bed, i’ll come check on you once i’ve got him settled.”

it wasn’t necessarily a nightmare, pony had had those, and this wasn’t the same thing. either way, he was still too spooked to want to stay in his room all by himself.

he froze in the doorway. their parents’ room was at the end of the hallway, and who knows what all was hiding in the dark? he was only 4, lots of things are pretty scary when you’re that little, and as much as he wanted his mama, he could see the nightlight in darry and soda’s room, and all he had to do to get in there was get across the hallway… he could do that.

he made up his mind, pushed their door open and had to laugh at soda, sprawled out over the bed, his hair falling every which way and his mouth hanging open. pony thought for a moment about crawling up with him and trying to get a couple of snuggles out of him before darry sat up on the other side of the bed.

“pony?” he asked sleepily. “what’s going on? are you okay?”

pony hadn’t realized how hard he had been trying not to cry and how hard it had been for him to keep himself together. all of his feelings crashing down onto him at once, he raced over to darry’s side of the bed and threw himself at his brother.

“oh, kiddo, what’s the matter?” darry hugged ponyboy to him, pulling him up onto the bed and cradling him in his lap. “it’s okay, i’ve got ya.”

“i- i had…” pony hiccuped out, but his breath caught in his throat and darry could feel him getting worked up.

“shh, big breaths, baby,” darry hushed him, placing a hand on his chest and taking deep breaths for pony to follow.

pony seemed to calm down after a few minutes, and managed to get out, “i had a dream…”

“ah, i see,” darry nodded, resting his cheek against pony’s head and rocking him gently. “but you were so brave and came and found someone, i’m so proud of you.”

“but…” pony seemed to scold himself for a moment. “but i still cried…”

“oh, that’s okay, baby,” darry pressed another kiss to pony’s head. “there’s nothing wrong with crying. it just means your feelings are a little bit bigger than you, but that’s okay! because the bad dream wasn’t real, and i’m never gonna let anything happen to you.”

pony whimpered again, and darry leaned down and whispered, “you wanna know a secret?”

pony nodded hesitantly.

“soda cries when he has big feelings, too.”

pony sniffled, “really?”

“yeah! see? there’s nothing wrong with needing to cry,” darry felt pony snuggle into him more and felt his heart swell. “how about you stay in here with us tonight?”

pony yawned and nodded, and darry shifted them so they were laying down and pony was still bundled up in his arms.

pony rolled over to face darry quickly, “what if i have another dream?”

darry smiled and ruffled his hair, “then it’s a good thing i’m right here.”

a small part of darry always knew that their parents were privy to his little escapades to pony’s room after they put him to bed. it always took them a pretty long time to get soda calmed down enough to sleep, which left darry to his own devices for however long it took them.

it was the same as every night, once soda had picked out a few books from the shelf in the living room and retreated with their parents into his and darry’s bedroom, darry quietly crept into the nursery.

pony was sitting up in his toddler bed, anxiously waiting for darry, just like he always did.

“did you bring the book?” he asked excitedly, and darry pulled out his school copy of romeo and juliet, tattered and messily annotated.

darry couldn’t understand why his 6-year-old brother loved his class novels so much or whether or not he even understood them, but he was excited about it all the same.

“what happened last night?” darry asked, settling down next to pony and pulling the blankets over his legs.

“they were on the balcony!” pony reminded him, snuggling into darry’s side.

“oh right,” darry smiled. “and romeo was forgetting about rosalind.”

“and he fought with ben…” pony struggled to remember the name for a second before looking up at darry for help.

“benvolio.”

darry opened up the book and started reading the scene he had been assigned in class, pony chiming in occasionally. by the time they finished the scene, pony was leaning heavily against darry’s side. darry folded down the corner of the page and set it down on the nightstand, wrapping an arm around pony as he got more and more drowsy.

“alright, baby, time to go to sleep,” darry whispered into pony’s hair, pressing a quick kiss to the top of his head. he started to scoot out from the covers, but pony pushed himself up and yanked darry back down, his little arms wrapped tightly around darry’s waist. darry just giggled, “pony, i gotta go to bed, too.”

“then go to bed here,” pony mumbled, his voice muffled against darry’s stomach.

darry laughed quietly, “you drive a hard bargain, kiddo, i’ll stay with you until you fall asleep, okay?”

pony threw the blankets back and plastered himself to darry’s side the minute he laid down. the toddler sized twin bed was too small for the both of them, but darry was having a hard time caring. whether it was soda or ponyboy, he could sleep so easily knowing they were safe because they were with him.

“darry, are you in here, honey?” mama whispered as she pushed ponyboy’s door open after finally getting soda to sleep. she froze, catching her boys in the bed together. her eldest, curled up protectively with half of the blankets kicked to the other side of the bed in favor of keeping ponyboy warm, and her baby, wrapped securely in his big brother’s arms, drooling onto the pillow and both of them fast asleep.

she quietly moved into the room and fixed the blankets so they were both covered properly. ponyboy stirred for a moment, but went straight back to sleep after a kiss to his forehead from his mama.

she flicked on pony’s nightlight and stopped to lean against the doorway to watch them for a few more minutes. when her husband finally came to find her after laying with soda until he was sure the kid was asleep, he whispered, “third time this week… want me to carry darry back to his room?”

she just shook her head and smiled, “no, let them sleep.”

“i thought you’d be asleep by now.”

ponyboy jumped at the abrupt sound of his brother’s voice and the front door opening. it was late. too late for pony to still be awake on a school night, but there he was, leaning up against the kitchen counter with a granola bar and what looked like a glass of apple juice.

pony just shook his head, not meeting darry’s eye, “couldn’t sleep…”

“no?” darry closed the door quietly, locking it behind him. truth be told, he had been hoping everyone would be asleep so that he could sneak back in unnoticed, but he knew pony would most likely only tell soda, who probably already knew anyways.

pony clearly had no intention of making it easy for him, either, “how was paul’s?”

“‘s alright,” darry shrugged, painfully aware that he hadn’t specified where he had been. “same as always.”

“football season’s been over you know…” pony said quietly.

darry felt his face go red, “i… i saw some of your meet today.”

pony rolled his eyes, “there wasn’t much to see.”

“sure there was,” darry walked over to the kitchen, grabbing the container of mixed berries from the fridge. he caught pony’s expression, looking at the glass of juice like it was the reason he hadn’t won. “hey, fourth ain’t bad at all, kid. you’re competing against kids that are much older than you. you’ve got a lotta time to be first. you’ve got no business losing sleep over that.”

“i know,” pony shrugged. “mom and dad said the same thing, soda wasn’t much help…”

darry understood. soda had never really understood why the two of them put so much stress on athletics, why it was so important for them. he never really got why it was so crushing when darry lost a game or pony didn’t place well in a meet.

darry knew ponyboy well enough to know that trying to comfort him wasn’t going to get him anywhere, he needed something else to think about.

“you wanna watch some cartoons? they’ve got a mickey rerun marathon going,” darry offered, gesturing to the couch using the hand holding the bowl of berries.

pony nodded wordlessly. darry grabbed the remote and settled down on the couch and was shocked when pony flopped down right next to him and curled up into his side.

“woah,” darry chuckled, flipping through the channels and throwing an arm over pony. “that bad, huh?

pony buried his face in darry’s side, “shut up…”

darry found the channel and set the remote down, taking deep, calming breaths that he knew pony would match and would probably help him sleep.

if darry was being honest, he missed how much time he used to get to spend with pony. even if they used to fight all the time, at least they saw each other enough to have an argument in the first place. now, they were both so caught up in their own lives that they hardly even saw each other. if darry wasn’t at a school event or looking at college stuff, then pony was at track, and if pony didn’t have homework, then darry was at paul’s.

it didn’t take long for pony to fall asleep. darry let the episode finish before turning off the tv and gently maneuvering pony into his arms to carry him to bed. he tried to push open the door to pony and soda’s room, but the door was latched shut and darry didn’t exactly have a free hand. thinking better of waking up pony or soda, he carried pony to his own room and tucked him under the blankets.

he changed into pajamas quickly and slid in next to his brother, doing his best not to shuffle him around too much. darry’s bed was far too small for both of them to fit comfortably anymore, but they would make it work.

pony stirred for a moment, beginning to wake up when the arm thrown over him was heavier than soda’s, but darry just ran a hand through his hair and whispered, “it’s okay, it’s just me. go back to sleep, honey.”

darry didn’t know how he was supposed to do anything anymore. it felt like he was in a strange limbo, the house had gone quiet and he felt so safe with all of his boys, who were much more his boys now than they had been a few hours prior, but in the morning, the world would keep spinning, and there wasn’t a thing he could do to stop it. he was having a hard enough time pulling in breath, let alone say anything to anyone.

he’d let the rest of the boys handle the comforting at first, letting steve hold soda and whisper to him until they fell asleep on the couch. johnny stuck with ponyboy, hugging him close when he had thrown up from the shock of it all.

they were all starting to run out of steam by midnight. steve whispered over soda’s head that he wasn’t going anywhere, but eventually, the boys all started to head out, johnny going with two-bit and dally heading back to buck’s for the night without a word. darry couldn’t blame them, this was a loss for them as much as it was for him, his parents had loved them just as much. his dad and his mama had been all of theirs, too. he couldn’t blame them, not really.

he was heading back to his room to put on his pajamas and pretend to try to sleep until he could sneak out of the house the next day to identify the bodies and start trying to make sense of what to do next unfulfilled he found ponyboy in the hallway.

he was quite a sight for fresh eyes. his green eyes were rubbed raw, angry and red, his skin was ghostly pale and his cheeks were flushed, and there was something about the way he was holding himself that seemed so exhausted. darry didn’t need an invitation, and he didn’t much care if pony was going to try to shove him off, he darted forward and enveloped pony in his arms.

if pony had any walls left up after that night, they all crumbled the moment darry had ahold of him. his knees buckled underneath him and they sank down to the floor.

darry had never seen pony like this, completely and utterly broken and lost and so goddamn scared, that it almost make him forget that he was doing the same thing. it was his parents, too. but what mattered the most now was ponyboy.

“i know, baby,” darry’s hand flew to the back of pony’s head. “you’re okay, i’m here.”

“nothing’s okay, dar,” pony sobbed miserably. “i can’t do it.”

“shh,” darry hushed him gently, rocking them back and forth. “i know, i know. i’m so sorry.”

he swallowed hard to keep the tears at bay, his chin resting on his baby brother’s head. he couldn’t take it away. he couldn’t ease the pain or do anything to make it better, and the realization hit darry like a physical blow. this was something they were just going to have to feel.

darry let pony cry into his shirt until he hiccuped and gagged and darry knew what was coming. he scooped pony into his arms and ran with him to the bathroom, rubbing his back as he threw up again. pony crumbled back into darry when it was over, sobs coming hard and fast.

“baby, i need you to take some deep breaths, you’re gonna be sick again if you keep working yourself up,” darry held pony’s head to his chest, his ear pressed to his heartbeat.

“i… i can’t…” pony wheezed. “what are we gonna do?”

“it’s gonna be okay, i promise, i don’t know a whole lot but i’m gonna make sure we’re okay. i’m okay, soda’s okay, you’re okay. and i’m never gonna let anything happen to either of you.”

it was all darry could do to keep his breath even enough for pony to follow, but despite everything, how scared he was and how hard he was crying, all pony could do was listen and slow down his breaths to match darry’s. he didn’t try to move, a dead weight on darry’s chest, his only comfort drawn from how tight his brother was holding onto him.

it could have been hours that they sat there on the bathroom floor, but eventually, pony slept. darry didn’t try to move, not until pony had been asleep for at least half an hour. he carefully pulled pony into his arms and carried him to his bed, stopping to make sure soda was still asleep with steve in the living room.

he used his hip to open pony’s bedroom door and set him down as gently as he could on the bed. pony rolled over slowly as darry covered him up and blinked up at his brother with his big, wet, eyes.

darry pushed his hair back gently, “go back to sleep, just try to rest, baby.”

“can you stay?”

if darry hadn’t been so close to pony, he would have missed it, but something in his shattered heart bloomed as his baby brother reached out for him, and all of a sudden, it was like pony was a baby and darry was helping him out of the crib in the smallest hours of the morning before anyone was awake. the world hadn’t hardened them and forced them apart, and ripped away both of their parents in one go, it was just darry and ponyboy.

it wasn’t enough. darry was painfully aware that it would never be enough and that he’d spend the rest of his life knowing it wouldn’t be. but in the worst moment of their lives, when they didn’t even know what hour it was, only that it had been dark for so long that it seemed like the sun would never rise again, it felt like maybe it could have been enough.

darry kicked off his shoes and climbed in next to pony, who was already almost asleep again. he knew he wouldn’t be able to sleep, but if being with pony all night meant that he would get some rest, it was worth it.

ponyboy was always worth it.

not for the first time, darry found himself in the kitchen at ten o’clock at night, unable to keep himself calm enough to sleep but too tired to stay awake. it was a vicious cycle, he knew it, but he couldn’t break himself out of it even if he tried.

pony had called to let him know that cherry and his study group had gone late and that she would give him a ride home. he knew pony was fine, but cherry’s house was 16 minutes away and it had already been 20…

“darry?” darry was grateful when soda’s voice startled him out of his tailspin.

he turned around slowly to see his brother in his too-big pajamas leaning against his doorframe.

“burning the midnight oil, pepsi?”

“you should go to bed, you’ve got work in the morning. i’ll wait up for pony.”

darry wanted to laugh, soda knew that wasn’t his responsibility and he had work just as much as darry did, but they both knew soda slept like a rock no matter what time it was.

“it’s okay, i wanna make sure he gets home okay,” darry shrugged.

soda looked apprehensive, “you’re sure?”

“positive, go back to bed. you look like you’re gonna fall asleep standin there,” darry furrowed his brows and cracked a smile at the state of his brother.

soda dragged himself back into his room and shut the door. darry busied himself by pouring a glass of water, and promptly almost spilled it when pony pushed the front door open.

“hey, darry, i’m sorry i’m so late, cherry’s dad got home and was giving her a hard time about having a guy over and-” pony started to explain, but was cut off by darry pulling him into a rib-cracking hug.

“you’re okay…” darry didn’t know if he was saying it to ponyboy or to himself, but it didn’t matter.

his little brother was home. he hadn’t come home soaked to the bone and scared to death after some socs tried to drown him. he wasn’t covered in bruises and cuts from switchblades. he was home. he was pressed up against darry and as long as darry had a hold on him, he could keep the kid safe. god, he would probably die for him if it came to it, he couldn’t imagine anything he wouldn’t do.

darry eventually let pony go, both of them taking a few steps back, “…sorry.”

pony just shrugged, “you give good hugs, y’know?”

darry cracked a smile, “go on and shower and get to bed, soda’s probably already asleep.”

pony nodded and headed towards the bathroom, and darry took up his spot at the kitchen counter. he could go to sleep now. he would be able to relax enough to drift off since pony was home, but he couldn’t seem to clear the dream from the night before from his mind.

he never really had dreams, at least not that he remembered, but ever since pony got back home, his brain taunted him with images of his little brother drowning in the fountain in the park, of him freezing to death in some old abandoned building, and that it was all his fault.

pony came out of the bathroom and into the kitchen, looking shocked that darry was still there.

“you should go to bed, too, dar,” pony nudged darry’s shoulder, taking a sip from the glass of water on the counter. “you look like you got hit by a truck.”

darry shrugged, “i will, just not that tired yet.”

pony fixed him with a stare that told him quite plainly that pony knew he was lying.

“you haven’t been sleeping much lately…”

“i don’t know, kiddo, it’s just been hard.”

“you’re having bad dreams, aren’t you?”

darry looked up at his brother. it was a rhetorical question, he already knew. and darry knew ponyboy well enough to know that there was no use lying to him. he nodded slowly.

how was he supposed to explain it to him? that every night his subconscious killed his little brother? that he woke up in a cold sweat almost every night? that he had to come to pony and soda’s room just to make sure they were both still breathing?

pony thought for a second before taking a few steps towards their parent’s bedroom, looking back and motioning for darry to come with him. darry followed cautiously, knowing what pony was probably going to have him do.

he pushed open the door and pony immediately headed for the bed, pushing the comforter back and crawling in.

“i started doing this after…” he trailed off, but darry knew anyways. “it helped. a lot.”

darry sighed and hesitantly crawled in next to pony. he didn’t understand at first, he almost wanted to tell pony that it was weird that they were in there at all, but the moment his head hit the pillows, he understood. it was like being wrapped up in everything he had missed so badly for months. it was like getting into the warm car after a freezing cold football practice, like a hug from his mama after a long day at school, like his little brothers waking him up on christmas morning.

he inhaled the smell, something long forgotten that almost made his head go foggy with how quickly he felt his heart slow down. mama’s perfume, daisies and vanilla, dad’s fragrance of cheap cologne and motor oil… and a smell that was far more familiar.

“is that… soda’s shampoo?”

pony nodded, “he comes in here a lot, i think more than he tells me.”

“i never do…” darry admitted guiltily. “it always felt wrong.”

“i know the feeling,” pony pulled the blankets up to his chin and flipping over onto his stomach, snuggling closer to darry. “but you should try to sleep, i promise, it’ll help.”

and darry didn’t know why, but he listened. he threw an arm over pony and sighed in the sweet scent of everything he’s ever loved.

the world started to go hazy, and it felt like he’d been awake for a hundred years.

he slept.

[jihyoruri]

wow!ym fun facts PLEASE I MISS MY GIRLFRIEND

★WOW!YN FUN FACTS

wow!yn, is an ex yg trainee and was supposed to be in babymonster

wow!yn, is a vocalist and has a very soft singing voice which is a complete contrast to her natural speaking voice which is on the deeper side

wow!yn, has the biggest obsession with stars which is why wonyoung calls yn her stargirl

wow!yn, is really close friends with giselle, keeho and yunjin

wow!yn, is a brand ambassador for vivienne westwood and ck

wow!yn, has about six tattoos (including a big one on her back) and a belly piercing

wow!yn, has a big playgirl reputation in the industry

wow!yn, has a little sister apart of new jeans (nwjns!yn)

wow!yn, is a introvert

wow!yn, is a 02

wow!yn, when ive first debuted wow!yn was known as the cute girl with the bow

wow!yn, has had a lot of flings but she has had only had four girlfriends (yuna, haewon, isa and winter)

wow!yn, was a fan of iz*one and her bias was chaewon

wow!yn, written a couple songs for other artists such as wicked love by yena

wow!yn, is known for having crazy fangirls who make up half of the fandom and are crazy involved in sales and views and votes for music shows

wow!yn, is known as the nation’s sweetheart (when she is little anything but that)

wow!yn, is known for her cover of 10 minutes by hyori

wow!yn, is literally the queen of fan service if there’s one thing she knows how to do it’s fill her fans delusions

wow!yn, has a sick look to her like she’s ill but for some reason people like it

wow!yn, is probably the most trustworthy person ever but it never looks like that from the outside

wow!yn, and wonyoung like to walk in the rain with no jackets or umbrellas when the weather is nice, its been a tradition for them since ive summer

wow!yn, had been close friends with yujin for a couple of years before debut

wow!yn, met wonyoung through yujin and the wony ended up taking a huge liking towards yn and convinced her to leave yg and move to starship and she’ll guarantee that they’ll be in a group together (yn ended up training at starship for year before debut during iz*ones last year as a group)

wow!yn, has star tattoo on her neck that she let rei do on her when they were trainees

wow!yn, has a lock necklace from rei that she never takes off

wow!yn, and lesseo fight like siblings to the point that people question if they really like each other (they love each other)

wow!yn, loves to make yujin her target when it comes to teasing

wow!yn, doesn’t like crying and has only cried around two of her members liz and wony and her closest friend giselle

wow!yn, likes to go on late night walks alone but wony never lets her go on her own and always ends up walking with her

wow!yn, is the biggest goof unintentionally and always has her members dying of laughter

wow!yn, has the biggest middle school boy humour which is why she’s the top favourite for the younger boy dives because they connect with her the most (one of them told her a your mom joke at a fansign and had yn laughing for a good five mins)

wow!yn, isn’t a bad girlfriend in the many relationships/flings that she has she treats them like royalty which is why they’re always so stuck on her even after she breaks up with them BUT don’t underestimate her because many times after yn finds out how bad her members and even one of her friends ex partners treated them she will go out of her way to get with them and then treat them like actual shit in the relationship maybe even worse then they treated her members/friends (she’ll become the most toxic person to exist)

wow!yn, gets easily flustered by her member wonyoung who takes pride in that since no one ever flusters yn

wow!yn, can play the electric guitar really well

wow!yn, is a comic nerd and has a whole marvel collection even with one signed

[joeys-babe]

Joey B Imagines: Light My Fire*

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Summary: Flashback. You and Joe are at LSU and so in love. Joe’s win of the National Title turns into a night you two will remember forever…

Warnings: smut

Pairing: Joe Burrow x reader

Imagine universe: Into The Mystic

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January 13, 2020

He did it. Joe fuckin’ did it.

After everything I’d watched Joe go through, from high school football to not starting at Ohio State to transferring, I got to witness Joe become a National Champion.

I'd never felt so proud of my boyfriend before, watching him hoist that trophy in the air as I cried in Robin’s arms.

“He did it!” - you cried

“He couldn't have done it without you sweetie. You're his everything.” - Robin

——

When Joe came to the family area, he first hugged his parents, him and his dad sharing such a sweet moment.

After their embrace ended, Joe turned to me, and in a matter of seconds, I was in his arms as he spun me around.

“I love you so much!” - Joe

“I love you more! You did it, Joey! I'm so proud of you.” - you

My words were mumbled as I was yelling them into his neck, but Joe understood every word.

“You know I couldn't have gotten this far without you? Thank you for everything, baby.” - Joe

“Thank you for letting me be a part of this journey. I'll follow you wherever you go.” - you

I pulled away and looked into his eyes, seeing that they were a little misty.

“I love you more than life, y/n.” - Joe

The embrace with Joe lasted longer than anticipated, like a whole five minutes, and I could sense eyes on us.

When I pulled away from Joe, Robin had a slight eyebrow-raised expression, wondering why Joe hugged me longer than her. She understood a little bit because she knew Joe saw his future in me.

“Hey, you're still spending the night with me, yeah?” - Joe

You'd be able to hear the smirk in his voice without even looking at his face like I was now.

“Yes. Why?” - you grinned

“I'm feeling some celebratory…” - Joe

My eyes went wide when Joe whispered the word sex.

“Joseph! Your parents are right behind us.” - you

Joe laughed at my worriedness and looked around to make sure his parents weren't watching us. The next thing I knew, Joe slipped his hands down to my ass and pressed his lips to mine.

When we broke apart, Joe licked his lips and showed me a devilish grin.

“You might wanna take a power nap when you get to my place, it's gonna be a looong night for you.” - Joe

Soon, Joe was walking away and back toward the locker room entrance, leaving me stunned.

——

I didn’t know how long I'd been asleep or the fact that I'd been asleep at all when Joe walked through his apartment door.

“There's my girl.” - Joe grinned

Joe dropped his bags and made his way over to the couch, quickly crawling on top of me with a smirk on his face.

“My national champion.” - you smirked

I watched Joe’s eyes turn dark as the nickname left my lips.

“Say it again.” - Joe

“My national champion.” - you

“Fuck.” - Joe grunted

He dropped his hips to where they were against mine and slowly started grinding himself into my hips.

“Wait-” - you

Joe immediately stopped.

“What?” - Joe

“Do you… have a cigar?” - you

“I got a whole pack of ‘em, why?” - Joe

“It sounds weird to admit out loud, but you looked so hot smoking it earlier.” - you

The smirk that formed on Joe’s lips was purely cocky.

“You want me to smoke one while we make love, huh baby?” - Joe

“Please, Joey.” - you

Joe nodded and crawled off of me. I watched him walk over to his bag and pull out a box of cigars. He sat them down on the kitchen table and quickly pulled all of his clothes off.

The sight of Joe putting the unlit cigar in his mouth while completely naked might be the hottest thing I've ever seen. With his perfect arms, torso, shoulders, thighs, and hard-awaiting length, my eyes didn't know where to look.

If I could grab my phone and take a picture of this sight, I would, but there were too many risks.

Joe laughed without even looking up at me.

“Take a picture, it'll last longer.” - Joe

Did he read my mind? What the hell?

Doing as Joe said, I picked up my phone off of the end table and snapped a picture.

“You're a work of art.” - you

“Thank you.” - Joe smiled

Joe walked back over to the couch and plopped down next to me, handing me the lighter in the process.

“Light it.” - Joe

“I- how?” - you

My brain was scattered just by the pure sight of Joe. He was like a drug.

Delicately, Joe reached out and grabbed my hand, directing it toward his throbbing cock. My pulse reacted when he spit into my hand and wrapped it around his length.

Next, Joe directed my other hand - the one holding the lighter - to the cigar held loosely between his lips.

“Atta girl.” - Joe

Now the cigar was lit, and Joe looked more perfect than ever.

“You know how to stroke a cock, baby. I don't gotta show you how to do that too, right?” - Joe

“N-no…” - you

“Then get to it.” - Joe

Feeling kinda awkward for some reason, I slowly started moving my hand. Joe seemed to appreciate it, though.

The look of Joe’s head thrown back with the cigar in his mouth had a gush of wetness seep into my panties.

“Oh god.” - Joe groaned

By now, I was feeling more confident and was able to stroke him faster.

“Use your mouth- please.” - Joe

His please came out as a whimper, and I gladly did as he said. Moving my head down to take Joe in my mouth, he was gone in just a matter of minutes.

“That was so good.” - Joe 

I was out of breath and already feeling pain in the back of my throat from Joe’s swollen cock hitting the back of it.

“You okay, beautiful?” - Joe

“Mhm.” - you

“You sure? Was I too rough?” - Joe

“No, you were perfect like always. I want you so bad.” - you

Within seconds, Joe was on top of me, his cigar only inches away from my face.

“God, I want inside you.” - Joe

“Please do.” - you

Joe didn't waste any time, and soon I was getting lost in the feel of his thick cock moving inside me.

“You feel so good- so fuckin’ wet.” - Joe

Nothing was better than this, being able to be so vulnerable with someone and yet feel so confident. Joe made me feel so many different feelings.

“You do- too. Joey.” - you moaned

Joe came first, which never happened. He was always making sure that I finished before him because my pleasure was the only thing on his mind. Tonight, though, was Joe’s night, and I was trying my hardest to make him feel like the champion he was.

Basking in the post-sex bliss, Joe lay on top of me, his head on my chest as my hand rubbed over his back.

“I'm so proud of you.” - you

“Thank you for always believing in me. Throughout high school, at Ohio State, and when I transferred. You were always there in the stands and on the sidelines. You've been one of the biggest reasons why I didn't give up. I know nothing I can say will show how appreciative I am, but just know I love you so fuckin’ much. More than the championship win.” - Joe

I ran my fingers through Joe’s hair and repeatedly kissed his forehead, my throat tightening and heart soaring at each word leaving his mouth.

“I've been there since the bleached blonde hair, seen you through two mullets, and I'll be there till you're fully grey or bald.” - you

“I hope I don't go bald, I'll get a toupée.” - Joe

Busting out laughing at his less-than-serious statement, Joe and I’s laughs joined together to make a beautiful soundtrack of the night.

At one point, Joe was almost asleep, but a knock on his apartment had us both wide-eyed in panic.

“Joey!” - Robin

“Your parents are here?!” - you whisper yelled

Joe jumped off of the couch and started putting his clothes back on, I ran into the bedroom when I heard keys jingling on the other side of the door.

“They're probably already sleeping. I forgot I had a key.” - Robin

Thankfully, I was in Joe’s bedroom with the door shut when Robin got the door open.

“Oh, hi son…” - Jimmy

“Hey guys! Didn't know you were coming…” - Joe

“Surprise! Where's y/n?” - Robin

“She's, uh… just got out of the shower.” - Joe

Jimmy laughed, and Joe looked at him with a narrowed eye look. His face saying, what are you laughing at?

“So you two were celebrating?” - Jimmy

“Uh… what do you mean?” - Joe

“Son, your shorts are on inside out and your shirts backward.” - Jimmy

My shoulders dropped in annoyance as I listened to the conversation from the bedroom. So much for not getting caught.

I facepalmed as Joe stuttered out an excuse, but Jimmy and Robin only laughed. If his parents didn't know we had sex before, they sure as hell do now.

Damn it, Joe!

————————————————————————-

Authors note: idk what to put

Requests for this fic;

Hope you enjoyed! 💕

[keenvictory]

"Minor possessive talk, mostly he's just a clingy loser" on the Cove drabble got me so good -- could you maybe do something similar for Derek and Baxter?!

Crazy about your writing, tysm for sharing!!!!

Synopsis: Baxter's life is perfectly, aesthetically crafted. Until it isn't. NSFW drabble.

: ̗̀➛ Featured Characters: Baxter Ward x Gn!Reader

̗̀➛ Content Warnings: NSFW, slight possessive language, very very brief angst (i mean, it is baxter)

̗̀➛  Additional notes: Continuing my loser men agenda with Baxter! I will write a separate post for Derek soon, but finishing two things in a row has me antsy to post this one separately. Theres bottom!Baxter if you squint, but i tried to write him as a switch so take it either direction as you will. Mostly he's just a loser who makes sex way too romantic. I love him.

Baxter wouldn't deign to call himself clingy. He was incredibly independent, really. Your relationship had taken a five year break and survived, he was perfectly content by himself.

But that didn't explain the sick thrill he gets having a clingy partner. There is something so delightfully addicting about being wanted. He loved it when he woke up to you wrapped around him, heart thundering when you burrowed closer at even the slightest twitch of movement, like you were scared he'd disappear.

That was where the thread of guilt came in. Of course you had clingy moments, he'd vanished from your life once, could you really trust him not to do it again? What did his word matter, ultimately?

It was hard not to think like that. He knew his own track record with relationships, and he wanted, more then anything, to not fuck up this one too.

It's never easy to chase those thoughts away. And yet you do it so effortlessly, with just the graze of your teeth, the scrape of your nails.

Baxter is putty in your hands when you mark him up during sex. He's obsessed with the way his pale skin looks after its been ravaged by you, admiring the scratch-marks down his back after he's fucked you, or the hickies and love-bites you've scattered across his chest. He'd let you ruin his neck with sweet bruises if it wasn't shockingly unprofessional.

I mean hickies on the wedding planner, on someone else's big day? He feels a shameful tingle of pleasure he can't deny at the thought. Baxter is so put together during the day that he absolutely falls apart at night, guided by your safe and sure hands. He cries, he begs, he sniffles as big, wet tears fill his red eyes. There was some alarm, the first time he cried during sex. The whole ordeal had been put on hold to make sure he was okay, until he'd shamefully and slowly explained to you that yes, he was perfectly fine. So, so good in fact, the tears had sprouted on an especially breathy moan.

And even though he begs so sweetly to leave your mark sometimes you handle him so tenderly and gently it sparks a whole different kind of need inside him. Love-making, he thinks, with his head nestled between you thighs, moaning with every tug of his hair, is a new world of pleasure. Miles beyond just sex.

But his favorite part of it all is the minutes just after. When he stumbles out of your arms to gleefully assess the damage, take in his tear-stained face, the pink hand prints on his hips and ass, his kissed swollen lips. The sight of it all has his spent cock twitching awake.

Just a little more, he thinks, stumbling back over to you. God his legs ache in just the best way. He's already hard again, cum beading at the tip without a care for his carefully crafted, elegant persona.

He pulls you into another kiss, sweet still, before nipping playfully at your ear.

"You've positively ruined me, dear." He purrs, a shiver of glee running through him as your hands find his hips again. "Want to do it again?"