#gonna be thinking about this for the next four months lol

[mrs-gauche]

So I recently listened to the latest episode of the "Split the Veil" podcast, in which Caitie (Ghil Dirthalen) talked a bit about her experience as a member of the Community Council, where she got to play some of the early builds of the game to provide feedback for the devs. It's really interesting and obviously, she can't talk about anything that BioWare hasn't revealed yet (which must be SO hard to keep quiet for two years 😂), but there was one thing that stood out to me and while she kept it frustratingly vague, it might be a liiittle spoilery..? So I put it under a cut!

So basically, she got to see what happens right after the Gameplay Showcase cuts off and she's dying to talk about what happens next because it's obviously a huge deal... so all she said was (quote) "It's so fucking funny, but it's not the tone that's funny".

And I'm sitting here like ???????? Like, what the heck, that's got to be the last thing I was expecting to hear. 😂 And now my imagination is running wild, like how are we going from "The Evil Gods are here, someone's gonna die probably, the world is doomed" to "That's so fucking funny" if it's not the tone? lol

I need you guys to give me some ideas please... Here are some of mine:

the Evanuris will pick Solas up and drag him like a ragdoll

after the gods emerge, Hawke stumbles out right behind them, looking like Robin Williams "What Year Is It" in Jumanji, visibly confused

there will be a hard cut to Varric sitting in a chair, cuz all of the prologue was actually made up

Also, another interesting titbit, in a recent video from Playstation Access, someone who also got to see the full scene at their demo, talked about how the graphics were so impressive, especially in the final moments, describing it as a "raging, magical storm/stuff flying about all over the place" and "a big swirling vortex of chaos" (are they referring to what we've seen during the showcase or something that happens right after? 🤔

[archaeren]

How I learned to write smarter, not harder

(aka, how to write when you're hella ADHD lol)

A reader commented on my current long fic asking how I write so well. I replied with an essay of my honestly pretty non-standard writing advice (that they probably didn't actually want lol) Now I'm gonna share it with you guys and hopefully there's a few of you out there who will benefit from my past mistakes and find some useful advice in here. XD Since I started doing this stuff, which are all pretty easy changes to absorb into your process if you want to try them, I now almost never get writer's block.

The text of the original reply is indented, and I've added some additional commentary to expand upon and clarify some of the concepts.

As for writing well, I usually attribute it to the fact that I spent roughly four years in my late teens/early 20s writing text roleplay with a friend for hours every single day. Aside from the constant practice that provided, having a live audience immediately reacting to everything I wrote made me think a lot about how to make as many sentences as possible have maximum impact so that I could get that kind of fun reaction. (Which is another reason why comments like yours are so valuable to fanfic writers! <3) The other factors that have improved my writing are thus: 1. Writing nonlinearly. I used to write a whole story in order, from the first sentence onward. If there was a part I was excited to write, I slogged through everything to get there, thinking that it would be my reward once I finished everything that led up to that. It never worked. XD It was miserable. By the time I got to the part I wanted to write, I had beaten the scene to death in my head imagining all the ways I could write it, and it a) no longer interested me and b) could not live up to my expectations because I couldn't remember all my ideas I'd had for writing it. The scene came out mediocre and so did everything leading up to it. Since then, I learned through working on VN writing (I co-own a game studio and we have some visual novels that I write for) that I don't have to write linearly. If I'm inspired to write a scene, I just write it immediately. It usually comes out pretty good even in a first draft! But then I also have it for if I get more ideas for that scene later, and I can just edit them in. The scenes come out MUCH stronger because of this. And you know what else I discovered? Those scenes I slogged through before weren't scenes I had no inspiration for, I just didn't have any inspiration for them in that moment! I can't tell you how many times there was a scene I had no interest in writing, and then a week later I'd get struck by the perfect inspiration for it! Those are scenes I would have done a very mediocre job on, and now they can be some of the most powerful scenes because I gave them time to marinate. Inspiration isn't always linear, so writing doesn't have to be either!

Some people are the type that joyfully write linearly. I have a friend like this--she picks up the characters and just continues playing out the next scene. Her story progresses through the entire day-by-day lives of the characters; it never timeskips more than a few hours. She started writing and posting just eight months ago, she's about an eighth of the way through her planned fic timeline, and the content she has so far posted to AO3 for it is already 450,000 words long. But most of us are normal humans. We're not, for the most part, wired to create linearly. We consume linearly, we experience linearly, so we assume we must also create linearly. But actually, a lot of us really suffer from trying to force ourselves to create this way, and we might not even realize it. If you're the kind of person who thinks you need to carrot-on-a-stick yourself into writing by saving the fun part for when you finally write everything that happens before it: Stop. You're probably not a linear writer. You're making yourself suffer for no reason and your writing is probably suffering for it. At least give nonlinear writing a try before you assume you can't write if you're not baiting or forcing yourself into it!! Remember: Writing is fun. You do this because it's fun, because it's your hobby. If you're miserable 80% of the time you're doing it, you're probably doing it wrong!

2. Rereading my own work. I used to hate reading my own work. I wouldn't even edit it usually. I would write it and slap it online and try not to look at it again. XD Writing nonlinearly forced me to start rereading because I needed to make sure scenes connected together naturally and it also made it easier to get into the headspace of the story to keep writing and fill in the blanks and get new inspiration. Doing this built the editing process into my writing process--I would read a scene to get back in the headspace, dislike what I had written, and just clean it up on the fly. I still never ever sit down to 'edit' my work. I just reread it to prep for writing and it ends up editing itself. Many many scenes in this fic I have read probably a dozen times or more! (And now, I can actually reread my own work for enjoyment!) Another thing I found from doing this that it became easy to see patterns and themes in my work and strengthen them. Foreshadowing became easy. Setting up for jokes or plot points became easy. I didn't have to plan out my story in advance or write an outline, because the scenes themselves because a sort of living outline on their own. (Yes, despite all the foreshadowing and recurring thematic elements and secret hidden meanings sprinkled throughout this story, it actually never had an outline or a plan for any of that. It's all a natural byproduct of writing nonlinearly and rereading.)

Unpopular writing opinion time: You don't need to make a detailed outline.

Some people thrive on having an outline and planning out every detail before they sit down to write. But I know for a lot of us, we don't know how to write an outline or how to use it once we've written it. The idea of making one is daunting, and the advice that it's the only way to write or beat writer's block is demoralizing. So let me explain how I approach "outlining" which isn't really outlining at all.

I write in a Notion table, where every scene is a separate table entry and the scene is written in the page inside that entry. I do this because it makes writing nonlinearly VASTLY more intuitive and straightforward than writing in a single document. (If you're familiar with Notion, this probably makes perfect sense to you. If you're not, imagine something a little like a more contained Google Sheets, but every row has a title cell that opens into a unique Google Doc when you click on it. And it's not as slow and clunky as the Google suite lol) (Edit from the future: I answered an ask with more explanation on how I use Notion for non-linear writing here.) When I sit down to begin a new fic idea, I make a quick entry in the table for every scene I already know I'll want or need, with the entries titled with a couple words or a sentence that describes what will be in that scene so I'll remember it later. Basically, it's the most absolute bare-bones skeleton of what I vaguely know will probably happen in the story.

Then I start writing, wherever I want in the list. As I write, ideas for new scenes and new connections and themes will emerge over time, and I'll just slot them in between the original entries wherever they naturally fit, rearranging as necessary, so that I won't forget about them later when I'm ready to write them. As an example, my current long fic started with a list of roughly 35 scenes that I knew I wanted or needed, for a fic that will probably be around 100k words (which I didn't know at the time haha). As of this writing, it has expanded to 129 scenes. And since I write them directly in the page entries for the table, the fic is actually its own outline, without any additional effort on my part. As I said in the comment reply--a living outline!

This also made it easier to let go of the notion that I had to write something exactly right the first time. (People always say you should do this, but how many of us do? It's harder than it sounds! I didn't want to commit to editing later! I didn't want to reread my work! XD) I know I'm going to edit it naturally anyway, so I can feel okay giving myself permission to just write it approximately right and I can fix it later. And what I found from that was that sometimes what I believed was kind of meh when I wrote it was actually totally fine when I read it later! Sometimes the internal critic is actually wrong. 3. Marinating in the headspace of the story. For the first two months I worked on [fic], I did not consume any media other than [fandom the fic is in]. I didn't watch, read, or play anything else. Not even mobile games. (And there wasn't really much fan content for [fandom] to consume either. Still isn't, really. XD) This basically forced me to treat writing my story as my only source of entertainment, and kept me from getting distracted or inspired to write other ideas and abandon this one.

As an aside, I don't think this is a necessary step for writing, but if you really want to be productive in a short burst, I do highly recommend going on a media consumption hiatus. Not forever, obviously! Consuming media is a valuable tool for new inspiration, and reading other's work (both good and bad, as long as you think critically to identify the differences!) is an invaluable resource for improving your writing.

When I write, I usually lay down, close my eyes, and play the scene I'm interested in writing in my head. I even take a ten-minute nap now and then during this process. (I find being in a state of partial drowsiness, but not outright sleepiness, makes writing easier and better. Sleep helps the brain process and make connections!) Then I roll over to the laptop next to me and type up whatever I felt like worked for the scene. This may mean I write half a sentence at a time between intervals of closed-eye-time XD

People always say if you're stuck, you need to outline.

What they actually mean by that (whether they realize it or not) is that if you're stuck, you need to brainstorm. You need to marinate. You don't need to plan what you're doing, you just need to give yourself time to think about it!

What's another framing for brainstorming for your fic? Fantasizing about it! Planning is work, but fantasizing isn't.

You're already fantasizing about it, right? That's why you're writing it. Just direct that effort toward the scenes you're trying to write next! Close your eyes, lay back, and fantasize what the characters do and how they react.

And then quickly note down your inspirations so you don't forget, haha.

And if a scene is so boring to you that even fantasizing about it sucks--it's probably a bad scene.

If it's boring to write, it's going to be boring to read. Ask yourself why you wanted that scene. Is it even necessary? Can you cut it? Can you replace it with a different scene that serves the same purpose but approaches the problem from a different angle? If you can't remove the troublesome scene, what can you change about it that would make it interesting or exciting for you to write?

And I can't write sitting up to save my damn life. It's like my brain just stops working if I have to sit in a chair and stare at a computer screen. I need to be able to lie down, even if I don't use it! Talking walks and swinging in a hammock are also fantastic places to get scene ideas worked out, because the rhythmic motion also helps our brain process. It's just a little harder to work on a laptop in those scenarios. XD

In conclusion: Writing nonlinearly is an amazing tool for kicking writer's block to the curb. There's almost always some scene you'll want to write. If there isn't, you need to re-read or marinate.

Or you need to use the bathroom, eat something, or sleep. XD Seriously, if you're that stuck, assess your current physical condition. You might just be unable to focus because you're uncomfortable and you haven't realized it yet.

Anyway! I hope that was helpful, or at least interesting! XD Sorry again for the text wall. (I think this is the longest comment reply I've ever written!)

And same to you guys on tumblr--I hope this was helpful or at least interesting. XD Reblogs appreciated if so! (Maybe it'll help someone else!)

[muniimyg]

♡ 04: how you're lookin' at me, yeah, i know what that means and i'm obsessed

series m.list // taglist

note: a wild ride…. good luck y’all ,, THANKS FOR 1K 😻 my kitty is happy !!! hauwhahahahaa this part is lengthy so pls take a mfking SEAT. pls lmk what y’all think ,, send in asks 🫵 we’re headed towards the finale 💛 much wuv !!

warnings: tension/tampo vibes (whats that in english? lol) ,, male masturbation (jk gets himself off as he recalls oc slapping him) ,, jealousy (lots of it. like 90% of this part is filled with it) ,, oc has a hickey ,, angst ,, and a little mwaamwaaaa moment :')

//

life sucks. 

for jungkook, at least. 

it’s been almost a month since the incident, and you’ve done everything in your power to avoid him.

the memory of the fight—the words exchanged, the way he said your name—still lingers in the air between you like smoke, suffocating and inescapable.

at first, jungkook tried.

he texted you the next day and every day after that. his messages were hesitant and apologetic... and each one was left unanswered.

nerd [11:11PM]: ___, can we talk? sent nerd [11:28PM]: please? sent nerd [12:01AM]: i’m sorry. i mean it. sent nerd [12:03AM]: it wasn’t even like that. not with her.  sent nerd [1:09AM]: ik i’m gonna sound like a total douche no matter what so let me do it please sent nerd [1:15AM]: let me say sorry, let me fuck up, let me make it up to u sent nerd [2:01AM]: i really hate begging  sent nerd [2:01AM]: but i really hate u not wanting me even more seen

he did try to call though.

just once.

the ringtone barely lasted before he hung up, realizing how futile it was.

at one point, he showed up at your favorite coffee shop one afternoon. he sat alone by the window with an untouched drink, waiting. 

his eyes flicked to the door every time it opened, a glimmer of hope lighting his expression for a split second before fading when it wasn’t you.

after two hours, he left.

but now, almost four weeks later, jungkook has stopped trying (so hard).

it wasn’t a sudden decision, more of a gradual acceptance that whatever connection you’d shared—whatever you’d been to each other—was slipping through his fingers.

he told himself you needed time, that maybe this space was what you wanted, what you deserved. and so, he gave it to you.

he told himself it wasn’t the end. 

it couldn’t be.

he refuses for it to be. 

this is just… complicated. 

he gets that.

he's a smart guy after all!

but late at night, when the world was quiet and he was left alone with his thoughts, the weight of your absence pressed against his chest like an ache he couldn’t soothe. it... burns? it throbs in this aching rhythm that he can't quite figure the melody to.

jungkook thinks about the way you banter with him and how much it makes his day. how closely you sit next to him. how effortlessly you mesmerize him… 

how you flirted with him for a few days and now he's malfunctioning. how he spent the last month memorizing every detail of those days and can't get over it. he has convinced himself you're into him...  

like, remember how your fingers would brush his when you handed him something? that meant something, right? or how about the way you looked at him and tilted your head? shit, yeah.

that meant something.

fuck, the way you laugh and throw your head back and he gets a glance at your perfect neck—how he wants to leave kisses on it. how he… 

how he had you. 

for a moment, he really had you. 

under him, tangled, and messy. 

how he was so close to your lips. 

he should’ve kissed you. 

he should’ve locked the fucking door. 

he should’ve ran after you even more. 

but he didn’t…

and now? 

now you aren’t even around. 

he recalls what taehyung said to him night at the arcade. taehyung's words rub into his wound like salt. it stings. it makes him feel sick to his stomach and he just... get can't stomach it.

“she isn't gonna stick around forever... especially with all the shit you pull…”

there are no words to describe how incredibly helpless he feels.

if anything, he goes through circles in his mind; completely in disbelief he could fuck up this bad with you.

he hates that he can't think straight. he hates that he can't study properly. he hates that he stopped tutoring and even got in trouble with his profs for letting them down (they really counted on jungkook to help other students out).

he hates that he can't fucking breathe lately.

he can't sleep.

he can't eat.

jungkook hates the growing distance, but more than that, he hates how much it hurts.

he hates how much he wants to fix things even when he doesn’t know how. he just knows he wants to. god, fuck it—

fine. 

he hates how much he misses you.

but most of all, he hates that he was wrong. 

it was entirely his fault. 

jungkook hates it all.

by chance, you and jungkook run into each other. 

the scene is perfect.

it's the perfect set up to cry over when you get home—that is.

the rain starts just as you’re leaving the library, soft at first but quickly turning heavier. you don’t expect to see him—not here, not now—but there he is, standing under the awning of the café across the street, shaking out his umbrella. the door chimes as you step outside, and he looks up.

for a moment, neither of you move, caught in the heavy stillness of the moment.

jungkook freezes when he sees you. 

his eyes widen briefly, then soften into something cautious, hesitant. he tucks his hands into the pockets of his hoodie, fingers flexing nervously against the fabric as he steps forward.

“hey,” he says, his voice careful, like he’s offering a truce.

the sound of him makes your heart clench, the warmth in his tone threatening to undo you. but you don’t let it show. you nod once, lips pressed into a thin line, and move to step around him.

“wait—” his hand shoots out, not to grab you, just to stop you. his fingers hover midair, unsure if he even has the right to reach for you anymore. “___, please?”

the rain is falling harder now, pooling on the sidewalk and soaking into the edges of your shoes. you glance at him, taking in the way his hair clings to his forehead, the way his hoodie looks just a little too big on him, like he hasn’t been sleeping well or eating much.

“can you not pretend like this is a coincidence?” you ask quietly, refusing to meet his gaze. 

he stays silent. 

it wasn’t. 

truth be told, he’s been waiting outside for almost 45 minutes. he didn’t even know if you were at the library today… he just had to wait and find out for himself. 

"do you have an umbrella?" he asks, breaking the silence. 

"what—"

"here." 

he cuts you off, pushing the umbrella toward you.

you blink, startled, as he places the handle firmly in your hand. your fingers wrap around it instinctively, the metal cool against your palm.

"jungkook—" you start, your voice faltering.

he shakes his head, stepping back into the rain without a word. the downpour hits him almost instantly, soaking through his hoodie as he shoves his hands into his pockets and starts walking away.

you stand there, the umbrella trembling in your grip, watching him go. the rain comes down harder, cascading off the awning above you, but you barely notice. your gaze stays locked on him—on the way his shoulders hunch against the storm, on the slow but steady steps that carry him farther and farther away.

something tightens in your chest. 

maybe it’s regret or maybe longing… but as his figure grows smaller and the storm swallows him—you feel it.

the warmth of his lingering presence and the chill of it all—

—of your favourite almost.

a few days later, jungkook finds his umbrella in his bedroom. 

he takes out his phone to send you a text, prepared to humiliate himself and to beg for a second of your attention. he’d trade all tonight’s focus for a moment of you.

just as he picks the umbrella up, he finds a note. 

___ told me to give it back to you. she says thanks (whore). ps: she said don’t text her. — taehyung

jungkook sighs. 

does he listen? 

obviously not. 

nerd [6:19PM]: don’t tell me what to do  nerd [6:20PM]: i hate this nerd [6:21PM]: u should’ve jus kept the umbrella. giving it back to taehyung and telling him to tell me not to text u is sick.  seen. nerd [6:22PM]: reply pls seen.  nerd [6:26PM]: fine. i’ll jus talk to myself  nerd [6:31PM]: i miss u sm i jerked off the other night thinking abt the way u slapped me  seen nerd [6:33PM]: come on, kitty  nerd [6:34PM]: promise to think abt me tn :(  nerd [6:35PM]: cos i’m gonna think abt u tn nerd [6:36PM]: ignore me if u want proof  typing…  nerd [6:37PM]: kitty? seen nerd [6:40PM]: fuck. nerd [6:41PM]: how do u get me so fucking hard thru text? maybe i jus miss u too much  nerd [6:42PM]: excited for my proof?  seen nerd [6:45PM]: ft?  seen nerd [6:46PM]: keep seenzoning me and i’ll cum typing... seen ___ has notifications silenced

but it's too late.

jungkook meant it.

he's sat on his gaming chair, cock heavy.

his phone is out with that group picture from the arcade (zoomed into you) as lewd thoughts of you fill his mind. jungkook runs his thumb across his tip, hissing at the way it feels over his slit. 

he flicks his wrists, gripping his dick with just enough pressure to grow the hardness. it’s already stiff and he can feel the need to cum—but he just can’t.

he can’t without thinking of you. 

so, his eyes flutter shut as his memories of you replay in his mind. 

from the way your lips winced when he ate you out—to the way that mini skirt looked on you that day. he thinks about the way you say his name; in any and every way. angry, teasingly, and desperately… he thinks about how pretty it sounds rolling off your tongue. 

how pretty you looked under him.

how good you smelt when he kissed your neck. 

how close you sat next to him—fingertips lingering... god, what he would do to be close to you again. 

jungkook thinks about the slap. 

how hard your palms hit his cheek and how angry you looked at him. despite the negativity surrounding the situation—he can’t help it. 

you looked so hot. 

it just… gets to him. 

before he knows it, his hand is covered in his sticky cum. 

he’s a loser—a nerd in your words. 

he always has been… and here he is; jerking himself off to the pretty girl he lost his chance with.

the night is supposed to be nothing special. 

for jungkook, it’s just another event for his precious marine conservation club—a fundraiser, a schmooze-fest for potential investors, and a chance to hand out awards to appease the donors. sure, he’s getting an award, but it doesn’t feel like much.

the room buzzes with polite conversation and clinking glasses. jungkook adjusts his tie for the hundredth time, barely paying attention to the speeches and presentations. he stands off to the side with the other club members, blending into the background until his name is called.

“jeon jungkook, for outstanding contributions to marine conservation and innovation. mr. jeon has been working towards innovative chemical solutions for marine conservation, focusing on sustainable practices to protect endangered species like dolphins, and developing eco-friendly alternatives to reduce their environmental impact.”

the applause is polite but hearty.

jungkook steps onto the stage, the spotlight hitting him square in the face. as he accepts the plaque, his gaze instinctively sweeps over the audience—and then it stops.

you’re here.

sitting with the guys, casually chatting like you belong there, like you haven’t been avoiding him for a month and a half (at this point).

his heart trips over itself. 

he’s not even sure if it’s relief or panic or something else entirely, but it rattles him. he forces his attention back to the microphone, holding the plaque in his slightly sweaty hands.

“uh, thank you,” he begins, his voice steady enough, though his pulse is anything but. “our club’s mission has always been to protect and preserve marine life through education, community projects, and outreach. with this award…”

his eyes flick back to you. 

you’re laughing at something taehyung just said, your smile bright, your whole demeanor light and carefree.

“…we want to focus on…”

he falters, the words slipping from his mind as his gaze lingers on you.

“…we want to focus on… f-focus…”

a ripple of laughter spreads through the audience. someone whistles playfully. he blinks, startled back into the moment.

“…focus on sustainable practices and expanding our projects,” he finishes, clearing his throat as heat rises to his cheeks.

you’re laughing too, your head tilted slightly as you join the others. it should make him feel worse, but somehow, seeing you like that—smiling, present—grounds him.

he powers through the rest of the speech, keeping his gaze firmly away from where you’re sitting. when it’s over, he accepts the handshake from the host and makes his way offstage, barely registering the applause.

as soon as the ceremony ends, jungkook doesn’t even think. 

he weaves through the crowd, ignoring congratulatory pats on the back and comments from investors, his eyes scanning for you.

how did you know about tonight?

wait. 

shit.

he’s been texting you every day with random ass updates. of course you know. he’s yapped about it… but why? why did you come? don’t you hate his guts?

you're here so... maybe you don't hate him as much as he has convinced himself you do.

jungkook finds you near the back with the friend group, holding a glass of champagne and listening to hoseok animatedly retell a story.

“congratulations,” you say lightly, lifting your glass in a mock toast. your words are casual, but there's an edge to them, a distance you've kept between the two of you for far too long.

his chest tightens at the awkwardness of your tone, but he nods, his hands slipping into his pockets. the space between you feels impossibly wide now, though only a few feet separate you.

“thanks,” he says, his voice quieter than he intended. “... thanks for coming.”

his gaze flickers to yours for a second before dropping to the floor, and he shifts, a little uncertain, taking a half-step closer.

hesitantly, you inch back. 

his presence is suddenly overwhelming, more than you’re ready for.

“yeah… of course,” you murmur, unsure how to navigate the new dynamic between you two. the tension is thick, but there's something else there too. an unspoken history. “what are friends for, you know?”

he hates that. 

friends. 

yeah fucking right.

jungkook tries to break the tension.

he takes a risk.

he takes a small step forward, hoping you don’t move. this is the closest he’s gotten to you in over a month—he needs this. it’s like euphoria in his veins—being with you again.

he needs this.

“how have you been?” he asks, the question coming out softer than he anticipated. jungkook scratches the back of his neck and continues. “a-are you coming to the afterparty?”

your lips part, a pause hanging between you.

you don’t want to admit how much you’ve missed this. how much you’ve missed him.

but the words slip out, more natural than you expect.

“yeah,” you say, giving him a brief but warm look. “i’ll be there.”

for a moment, your eyes lock, and something shifts. 

it’s like you’ve both forgotten all the walls, the space between you collapsing. he can feel his heart rate quicken, like his knees might give out, but he forces himself to stay grounded, to act nonchalant.

“cool,” he says, trying to brush off the sudden rush of emotions. “i’ll.. i’ll be there too.” he smiles, but it’s the kind of smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes—not yet, anyway.

“i sure hope so,” you laugh. “it’s your party, nerd.”

nerd. 

holy shit. 

never has he ever felt so relieved to hear you call him that. 

as he’s about to say more, taehyung appears out of nowhere, slapping his arm and giving him a congratulatory squeeze. 

“hey, man, nice speech. well deserved,” taehyung says, grinning like an idiot. “what did you want to focus on, again?”

you laugh while jungkook rolls his eyes. he shoves taehyung playfully. 

suddenly, you can’t help but feel the awkwardness settle back in, like something’s shifted again. you feel a pang in your chest as you turn toward the other people nearby, the ones you've been socializing with before jungkook showed up. the buzz of the conversation pulls you away, and you focus on the group, hoping to escape the overwhelming emotions that jungkook’s presence stirs.

jungkook watches you go, his eyes lingering as you slip away from the conversation. 

he can’t help it. 

you’re in his head again.

he looks over at taehyung, catching his eye. 

“hyung, is she coming to the dinner before the afterparty?” he asks, trying to sound casual. his voice betrays him, cracking with just the faintest hint of hope.

taehyung raises an eyebrow, taking a sip of his drink. 

“yeah. excited?”

“no.”

taehyung scoffs. “say that again but take away the lying.”

“fuck off.”

“___’s a good friend, man,” taehyung chuckles, redirecting the conversation. “you’re lucky. you just might be back in her good graces.”

jungkook’s heart skips a beat. 

“really?” he asks, trying not to sound too eager.

taehyung grins, leaning in a little. 

“yeah, but... she’s bringing her little boyfriend with her.”

you’re doing what?

jungkook feels the need to rub his eyes or something.

was taehyung shitting on him? boyfriend? when did this happen? no fucking way. 

jungkook refuses to believe it. 

… yet, the words hit jungkook like a punch to the gut. his breath catches, and his stomach tightens. 

"what?" his voice is barely a whisper, the weight of it settling in. 

"she didn't tell you?"

"we haven't been talking."

"rightfully so."

fuck. 

no. 

he doesn’t want to believe it, but the hurt is already seeping through.

taehyung shrugs, oblivious to the internal storm brewing in jungkook. 

“shit, well... yeah, she’s been seeing him for a while. dunno if they’re officially together, but… guess she’s really moving on. good for her, right? i mean, now you can really focus on just being her friend.”

the air stills. 

the reality of it all comes crashing down. jungkook’s heart sinks, his chest tightening in that all-too-familiar ache. 

that's why you’ve been busy... 

you’ve been moving on.

his fingers curl into fists, the anger bubbling up before he can suppress it. but he doesn’t say anything, doesn’t let his emotions spill out in front of taehyung, even though every part of him is screaming. 

“yeah,” he forces a smile. “i guess.”

as the night goes on, jungkook can’t shake the feeling that he’s lost something he can’t get back. something that’s slipping further away with every step you take, every laugh you share with someone else. and no matter how much he wants to fight for it, he’s afraid it’s already too late.

jungkook doesn’t want to go to dinner anymore.

he has no appetite.

jungkook is already at the dinner when you arrive. 

his mood is off, grumpy but with an undercurrent of sadness that he can’t quite shake. he’s forcing a smile when people congratulate him for the award, but it’s clear it’s not reaching his eyes. the night’s just been a blur of congratulations and polite smiles, but all he can think about who will walk in with you. 

does he know him?

is he gonna be some super cool prince charming?

does he know that jungkook was eating you out just a month ago? 

all valid questions…

however, you arrive a little late, and immediately his gaze searches for you in the crowd. when he sees you, his heart lurches. he spots you talking to someone, and the knot in his stomach tightens.

you make your way to the table, your eyes scanning it before you stop. for a moment, you aren’t sure where to sit. usually, you sit next to jungkook… but the spot is occupied by jimin. 

not by choice.

jungkook had saved the spot for you… you just came too late and he didn’t have it in him to tell jimin to move. but, jimin catches the milli-second exchanged look you have with jungkook and immediately shifts. 

“oh,” jimin begins. “shit, i forgot… didn’t know you were gonna show up so late—”

you chuckle, shaking your head. “it’s fine we’re gonna sit on the other side! by the way,” you pause and push the guy you came with forward. “this is do-hwan. he’s a biochem major and we have a few electives together… um, what else?” 

biochem?

serisouly?

do you have a thing for nerds or something? bro doesn't even look the part. he should be majoring in physics or something even more lame.

jungkook's thoughts cut short when he hears you giggling.

“hi,” do-hwan says with a grins at everyone. then, he turns and extends his hand to jungkook. “jungkook? shit, man. congrats on the award.”

he chuckles, giving jungkook a playful look. “organic chem, huh? i guess someone has to study the pretty side of chemistry.” 

what the fuck does that mean?

jungkook’s ears turn red. 

“yeah,” he grumbles under his breath. “nice to meet you too.”

with that, you and do-hwan make your way to the other side of the table. jungkook watches, his gaze hardening as you take a seat beside him.

he’s trying his best to stay calm and to not show it—not show how absolutely fucking mad this entire thing is.

this is ridiculous! 

his chest tightens painfully at the sight of you sitting with him. his fingers curl into his glass as he watches you laugh and chat with others, inserting do-hwan like you’re some proud girlfriend. 

you've probably known do-hwan like 10 seconds.

and jungkook can’t help it! every word you exchange with do-hwan makes him feel like he’s being crushed from the inside out. 

he’s trying to focus on the conversation happening around him, but his mind keeps wandering, drifting to you.

he watches as you lean in to talk to do-hwan, the way your eyes light up when you laugh at something he says. it’s the same laugh, the same warmth in your smile, but somehow it feels so much farther away from him now—like a memory that he’s trying to hold onto but can’t quite grasp.

he forces himself to look at the group again, but his gaze keeps slipping back to you. every word you exchange with do-hwan makes his chest tighten.

it's like he’s suffocating, and he can’t tear his eyes away. the way he moves so casually, his hand brushing against yours as he reaches for his drink. 

it’s too much.

it’s too familiar.

and then, as you turn your head to respond to someone else, he sees it.

just a flash of it—right there on your neck. 

a small hickey, barely visible, but it might as well be a brand. his heart stops for a beat. the sight burns in his chest, and before he can stop himself, his breath catches in his throat.

his stomach churns violently, a rush of heat flooding his veins. everything feels like it’s collapsing inward. the noise around him fades, and all he can hear is the pounding of his own heartbeat. the world shrinks, and the weight of the jealousy hits him like a truck.

he can’t stay here. 

not like this. 

not with this tightness in his chest, not with the ache in his stomach. the room feels like it’s closing in on him, and he knows—he knows he has to get out.

without a word, he stands abruptly, pushing his chair back. his heart races as he excuses himself from the table, slipping away into the hallway outside the main dining area.

the rest of the table doesn’t seem to notice his sudden departure, but your friends quickly start murmuring, and one of them nudges you. 

"you should probably go check on him," taehyung says, giving you an almost knowing look. “i told you not to bring him.”

you hesitate for a second, then stand, glancing at do-hwan.

“it’s not do-hwan's fault.”

taehyung rolls his eyes at you. 

“you’re playing it kinda mean tonight though,” he tells you. “jungkook’s been miserable. sure he deserves to be dragged through mud for whatever happened and for whatever he said, but this? on his night? i don’t know ___…”

you gulp.

maybe taehyung is right.

but you didn’t intend for it to be like this. you genuinely brought a friend you’ve been spending time with! and, sure… yeah. you’ve been kissing him for a few weeks now, but so what? jungkook has probably been fucking every student he’s been tutoring so why the fuck does this matter?

“___…” taehyung urges you. 

“yeah, yeah… i’m going.” 

you wave taehyung off as you get up from your seat. you excuse yourself and let do-hwan know you’ll be right back.

you find jungkook outside. 

he stands with his back pressed against the cool metal of his car, arms crossed loosely over his chest. you notice that his posture is stiff... like he’s trying to keep himself grounded, but his shoulders still carry the weight of what he’s just seen.

his jaw clenches every so often, like he’s holding something back, but when his muscles tense, it’s almost as if the anger or hurt inside him is too much to contain.

as you walk towards him and he notices you. he runs a hand through his hair, tugging at the ends, clearly agitated. he lets out a slow, shaky breath, his eyes cast down toward the ground as if trying to collect his thoughts. he shakes his head slightly, as if to shake off the frustration that has settled in his chest, but it doesn’t seem to help. 

then, he looks up at the sky, his gaze distant, unfocused, lost in the swirl of thoughts that seem to chase him in circles. his arms drop to his sides for a moment, his fingers flexing and unflexing like he’s trying to release the tension that has built up in his body.

after a long pause, he lets out a frustrated sigh, raking his hand through his hair again, this time pushing it back as he exhales sharply.

his whole stance is restless.

it’s like he can’t quite settle his thoughts or his body, caught between what he feels and the reality of what’s happening. 

he’s trapped in his own head, unable to escape the weight of the situation.

by now, you’re next to him.

are you here to set him free?

“so… have the dolphins ever thanked you for your hard work?” you ask, trying to break both the silence and tension with your light tone. “you do so much for them… ungrateful little brats—you know they’re psychos right? they bully—”

he doesn’t turn around. 

“what’s on your neck?” he asks. “did your boyfriend do that?”

your chest hurts at his words. “he’s not... he’s not my boyfriend.” you swallow, trying to keep your voice steady. “he’s just a friend.”

there’s a long pause, and when he finally turns to face you, his eyes are a mixture of frustration and hurt. 

“the same kind of friend i am to you?”

he’s trying to sound nonchalant, but there’s a tremor in his voice.

you shake your head, not knowing how to explain, not knowing how to make him understand.

“you know what? i didn’t come here to make you feel like this…” your voice cracks slightly. “i didn’t... i don’t want to hurt you. i didn’t want to come.”

he scoffs bitterly.

“maybe you shouldn’t have.”

his words sting, but you can’t back down. 

“what do you want me to do?” you ask, frustrated. “if i didn’t show up, you’d be upset and blow up my phone. now that i’m here, you’re still upset—”

“and this is how you chose to show up?” jungkook raises his voice, turning to you. he steps forward, towering over you. he brings his hands to your hair, pushing it back and leaning in to look at your hickey properly. 

he squints. 

“are you proud of this?” he hisses. “fucking bug bite bullshit.”

“stop—” you snap, cutting him off now. “don’t—”

“okay. sorry, fuck..."

a beat.

"___, i miss you,” he breathes. “i just… shit. can you stay still for a second?”

there’s a long silence between you two, the air thick with things unsaid. jungkook looks like he’s about to say something, but his mouth closes, his frustration evident in the way he grits his teeth. 

instead, he just breathes you in. 

for the first time in a month and a half; jungkook can breathe.

then, he steps away and sighs. 

“think i’m gonna head home first. i… i need some space or something,” jungkook tells you. “let them know for me?”

“y-yeah. sure.”

“okay,” jungkook nods. “i’ll see you later.”

“see you.”

for the first time in a while, jungkook offers you a smile and you return it. 

short and sweet—he takes it. 

he leaves and thinks about it the entire drive home.

when you arrive at the party, you’re still reeling from the brief exchange with jungkook. 

your thoughts are completely a tangled mess. 

from the words he didn’t say to the way his eyes held that edge of something unspoken—it all lingers in your mind like an unsolved puzzle. you thought you had it all figured out…

that you could be fine.

that you could move on—but now, after that moment, you’re not so sure anymore. 

your heart races in a way that you can’t explain. why does it feel like you’re standing on the edge of something—something big, something scary—and yet, you're not sure if you want to fall or pull back?

your mind keeps returning to the way he looked at you, like he was caught between wanting to say everything and nothing at all. it’s not a feeling you can shake off easily.

it’s heavier than you thought it would be.

at the party, you try your best to focus on the people around you. do-hwan is by your side, chatting casually with a few people, most of them strangers to you. some faces are familiar—people from jungkook’s marine conservation club, and others... just people. 

you make your rounds, greeting them politely, exchanging pleasantries, but your thoughts are still drifting back to him. to jungkook. the air is thick with anticipation, and no matter how much you try to focus on the conversations happening around you, your mind keeps wandering.

and then, there he is.

jungkook is standing by the drink table, his posture relaxed but not at ease. 

his gaze flicks to you for a moment, a brief flicker of something—maybe surprise, maybe something more—before he meets your eyes. there’s a tense, palpable moment of silence.

he’s holding a red cup in one hand, his fingers wrapped loosely around it. his other hand rests in his pocket, but his stance is still too rigid... too guarded.

it’s like he’s waiting for something to happen, for you to do something.

he doesn’t smile. 

he just nods at you. 

a small, deliberate movement that somehow feels too formal, too distant.

no words.

just acknowledgment.

you feel the knot tighten in your stomach, the nervous energy in your chest quickening. it’s the simplest thing, but it feels loaded with so much more.

you can’t look away. 

something inside you is aching to go over, to close the space between you, to ask if everything’s okay, to say something—but you're frozen. the tension in the air between you is thick enough to suffocate.

you swallow hard, trying to calm the unease building in your chest, but it's no use.

the silence stretches out, heavy and thick, as you stand there, caught between the desire to run or to take a step closer, not sure if you're brave enough for either.

you take a step back, trying to break eye contact, when suddenly, someone bumps into you from behind. you stumble forward, your feet catching on the edge of a rug, and you let out a startled breath as you lose your balance.

before you can fully fall, a strong hand grips your wrist, pulling you back against something solid. your breath catches as you feel the warmth of someone’s body close to you.

it’s jungkook.

without a word, his other hand slides around your waist, steadying you, his fingers briefly pressing against the fabric of your shirt. the contact is brief but grounding, like the world, slows for a moment, just the two of you, suspended in time.

he doesn’t say anything, doesn’t offer the usual reassuring words. 

his grip is firm, and steady, but he doesn’t linger. as quickly as it happens, he pulls away, his hand leaving your waist just as the tension between you starts to build.

you open your mouth to say something, maybe a thank you, but before the words leave your lips, he’s already moving away, stepping back with that familiar, unreadable expression.

you stand there. 

you’re frozen for a beat longer than necessary. your chest tight as you try to catch your breath… his sudden departure stings more than you care to admit. there’s no time for you to process what just happened, what that touch meant—or didn't mean—before he vanishes back into the crowd.

fuck.

the night only gets louder as more people flood into the house. 

the music thrums through the walls, bass-heavy and relentless, blending with the clatter of cups and the hum of overlapping conversations.

you weave through the crowd, the heat of so many bodies pressed together almost suffocating. your heart races—not from the chaos around you but from the weight of the unspoken tension that’s followed you since you walked in.

you couldn’t bring yourself to drink, though do-hwan had handed you a cup earlier. 

it’s long forgotten somewhere, left behind on a table. you’re too afraid of what a single drink might loosen in you—afraid of saying or doing something you’re not ready for.

you don’t want to make worse what already feels so broken.

“hey.” do-hwan’s voice cuts through the noise, his hand resting lightly on your arm. he pulls you aside to a quieter corner of the room, away from the crush of people. “you okay?”

you nod, a small, uncertain smile tugging at your lips. “yeah. just... a little overwhelmed, i guess.”

he watches you closely, his expression softening as if he’s trying to read between the lines. “you sure? you’ve been kind of quiet tonight.”

“i’m fine, really.”

“you don’t have to be,” he says, and it’s the way he says it—gentle, almost understanding—that makes you crack a real smile. “pretty sure jungkook hates me. pretty sure he’s killed me 10 times in his head in the past hour or so… and he knows all the organic chem shit to make it a really clean murder, you know? “

you let out a weak laugh, but it doesn’t quite reach your eyes. 

he grins at the sight, his confidence blooming as he leans in closer, his shoulder brushing against yours. 

“there it is,” he says playfully. “i was starting to think you didn’t know how to smile anymore.”

you laugh softly despite yourself, and his grin widens. 

do-hwan then dips his head lower as he talks, his voice dropping slightly, as if the two of you are sharing a secret. it’s intimate in a way that makes your cheeks flush, his proximity unnerving. his eyes flick to yours, and he leans in just a little more.

across the room, jungkook sees everything. 

is it hot in here?

because fuck, he’s burning up.

actually, the entire house is on fire in his mind. 

he’s been watching you for most of the night, though he pretends not to be.

the way do-hwan hovers near you, the way you laugh at something he says—it feels like a punch to the chest. every small interaction between you two is a reminder of what he’s lost, of what he could’ve had if he’d been braver, better.

his grip on his cup tightens, his knuckles white against the red plastic. he can’t hear what you’re saying, but he doesn’t need to. the way do-hwan leans closer, the way his hand brushes your arm—it’s enough to make jealousy coil hot and bitter in jungkook’s stomach. it burns through him, unbearable, as he watches do-hwan dip his head lower, his lips so close to yours.

and then something inside him snaps.

fuck it. 

before he knows it, he’s moving through the crowd, his feet carrying him faster than his mind can keep up. his hand reaches out, fingers wrapping firmly around your wrist just as do-hwan’s face nears yours. you barely have time to process the sudden motion before you’re being yanked back, stumbling slightly into jungkook’s chest.

“what the hell?” do-hwan says, his tone sharp, but jungkook doesn’t even look at him. his focus is entirely on you, his jaw tight and eyes dark with something unreadable.

your breath catches, your heart hammering in your chest as you look up at him, startled. 

“jungkook—”

he doesn’t let you finish. 

his hand wraps firmly around your wrist, and before you can process what’s happening, he’s pulling you away. his grip is steady but not rough, a silent insistence that leaves no room for argument.

“jungkook, wait—” you try again, glancing back at do-hwan, whose confused expression barely registers in the rush of your heartbeat.

jungkook doesn’t look back, his jaw tight and his steps purposeful as he weaves through the crowd, his hand never leaving yours. the air around you feels heavy, the muffled music and chatter blurring into white noise as he leads you up the stairs.

your pulse thrums in your ears as he pushes open a door and pulls you inside, closing it behind you with a quiet but final click. the sudden silence of the room contrasts sharply with the chaos outside, and for a moment, you can only stare at him, your chest rising and falling as you catch your breath.

he finally lets go of your wrist, his hand lingering for a split second longer than necessary before he steps back. his gaze is dark, unreadable, but the tension radiating off him is palpable. the weight of the moment presses down on you, thick and suffocating, as you wait for him to speak.

a moment passes.

then, another.

and another.

and another.

and then—

“dump him.” 

you clearly your throat.

“can’t dump him. he’s not my boyfriend—“

“you and your fucking situationships.”

you gulp.

you hate the way he says it.

situationship… fuck him.

the room feels smaller than it is, the air thick with the weight of the moment. jungkook’s jaw ticks as he stares at you, the sharpness in his voice cutting through the silence.

“you’re… fucking with me, right?” he spits out, his tone teetering between disbelief and frustration. “you can’t be fucking real right now. you were just—”

“i was just what?” you snap, your glare matching his. “no fair, jungkook. i got to hear you fuck some girl, but you don’t want to watch me kiss—”

“did i ask you to?” he cuts in, his voice rising.

“no,” you huff, crossing your arms. “but what are you asking from me right now? huh? jungkook… i don’t understand you—”

“what do you think i’m asking?” his voice lowers, but the intensity behind it doesn’t waver. he steps closer, his presence almost suffocating. “you’re always trying to act like this doesn’t matter. like i don’t matter.”

“maybe it doesn’t,” you challenge, even though the words taste bitter on your tongue.

jungkook laughs, but it’s humorless, sharp. 

“yeah, sure. that’s why you still give a fuck about me fucking—”

you snap. “don’t tell me her name.”

“what?” jungkook grumbles. “is that it? you get to parade around, yelling his fucking name and announcing it to the entire fucking world but i don’t get to tell you about the girl that came onto me for months? do-hwan biochem this, do-hwan that—do-hwan kiss me! is that it?"

"jungkook—"

"fuck, ___... listen to me, okay? let me tell you what i've been rehearsing for the past month and a half.... the girl i declined over and over again and fucked a total of 3 times because i was thinking with my dick is done. okay? if you’re trying to tell me that i fucked up—fine. yeah. i fucked up. but i meant it when i said it’s not what it looked like. ___, it wasn't like that. she spread shit about me being a good tutor and twisted it. how the fuck do you think i feel about myself? how the fuck do you think i feel about you seeing it differently—seeing me differently?”

your throat tightens, and you look away, desperate for a moment to compose yourself. 

“jungkook—”

“tell me how to fix it,” he cries, his frustration spilling over. “tell me what you want, because i’ll do it. i’ll stop tutoring if that’s what you want. fuck, i already did to be honest with you.”

you glance up at him, startled.

“why? that’s not going to change anything.”

“but i have to try…” his voice cracks, and he runs a hand through his hair, his exasperation evident. “i’ll give up anything—whatever it takes. just tell me what you need, and i’ll do it. want me to stop wearing ugly ass shirts? fine. want me to stop saving the dolphins you hate so much—”

“i don’t hate dolphins—”

“you’re scared of them.”

your eyes soften. 

“how’d you know—”

“it’s obvious,” jungkook breathes. “the same way it’s obvious you’re scared of this.”

this...

what even is this?

the silence that follows is deafening. you don’t say anything, and the tension between you stretches taut, threatening to snap. his chest rises and falls heavily, his eyes searching yours, desperate for something you’re not sure you can give him.

he takes another step closer, his proximity making it impossible to think straight.

“say something,” he pleads, his voice barely above a whisper now.

but you can’t.

you don’t trust your voice, don’t trust yourself not to break under the weight of it all. so you stay quiet, the space between you charged with everything unsaid.

the weight of unsaid words and unresolved feelings pressing down on both of you. you take a step back, trying to create some space to breathe, but jungkook mirrors you, closing the distance effortlessly.

then, you look around his room for some kind of break… but it backfires as your eyes meet a plushie, laying on his bed.

hello kitty.

“what’s that?” you ask a little shyly.

jungkook turns his head, feeling a little embarrassed at what you’ve seen.

“what do you think it is?” jungkook asks gently. "___... i... i can't do it. i'm sorry, i can't..."

"can't what?"

"i can't want you," he confesses. "i can't want you when i need you that bad."

he points at the plushie and sighs. "fuck, do you know how stupid that fucking claw machine made me feel? i spent like 1 or 2—"

"hours?" your eyes widen.

he shakes his head. "hundred."

hundred.

you stay silent.

"i'm sorry, ___... for everything. i'm a shithead. i'm mean and inconsiderate. i'm a waste of time—i know... but i want you to know that... everything about my life feels so weird without you in it. the past month and half has been absolute hell. it's like... if you're not around, all i do is think about you and it fucks with me. i wonder what you're eating, who you're with, and what you're going to do next... i get excited when you seenzone me. i feel like i can finally breathe when you're near. i don't know what you did and what fucking pavlov doggy shit experiment you did on me—but fuck. woof woof. whatever you want, ___. seriously."

then, you do what you fear.

you give in.

“how am i supposed to trust you,” you start, your voice shaky but firm, “when you’re not even a good friend? you’re always so mean to me, jungkook. think about it… when have we ever been good friends?”

he scoffs, the corner of his mouth twisting into a bitter smile. 

“maybe it’s because i don’t want to be your friend.”

the words hit you like a slap, your breath catching in your throat. 

“what if i want you to be?” 

his eyes search yours, as if trying to figure out if you’re serious. 

“really?” he asks, his voice dropping lower, softer.

“really.”

his gaze flickers down to your lips, then back to your eyes, and his voice drops even lower, a dangerous edge creeping into it. 

you can feel it… you can feel it about to happen. 

“even when i’m about to do this?”

before you can process his words, his hand moves to your waist, fingers curling around you in a way that sends a shiver down your spine. he pulls you closer, the heat of his touch searing through the fabric of your clothes.

his lips find yours in a kiss that’s as sudden as it is inevitable. 

it’s not gentle—it’s firm, deliberate, and entirely consuming. his other hand comes up to cradle your jaw, tilting your head just enough to deepen the kiss. your hands instinctively reach for his shoulders, gripping him as if to steady yourself against the storm he’s unleashing.

when he finally pulls back, his forehead rests against yours, both of you breathing hard. the air between you feels different now—heavier, laden with something you can’t quite name but can’t deny.

his hand slides up, brushing a loose strand of hair from your face, and he looks at you softly, his dark eyes searching yours. the tender gesture sends a fresh wave of confusion—and longing—coursing through you.

“bad friend,” you scold him in a whisper.

his lips twitch, a soft laugh escaping him as his thumb grazes your cheek.

“don’t do that,” he says, his voice low, almost pleading. 

you raise a brow at him. "do what?"

"don’t friendzone me.”

“why not?” 

“i just kissed you.”

“so?”

“so?” he mimics, his tone teasing, but there’s a sharpness in his voice that makes you squirm. his arms tighten around your waist, pulling you impossibly closer. 

“kitty,” he murmurs, his voice dropping to a rough whisper, “i’m gonna be impossible to get rid of now."

[mind-empty-just-fictional-people]

He’s Not A Machine!

main masterlist | supernatural masterlist

summary: when dean collapses from exhaustion, it takes everything in you not to beat the shit outta john

pairing: (stanford era) dean winchester x female reader

rating: R for language

word count: 4.0k

warnings: hurt/sad dean, language, john being a terrible father, john being an asshole in general but what else is new

pairing note: reader washes/brushes her hair

author’s note: hiiii me again after many moons of zero contact with this lovely website. sorry for taking so long, hopefully i’ll stay a while this time lol.

It’d been nearly four weeks of back-to-back hunts. This was the seventh motel you and the two Winchesters had been at this month and you were almost ready to call it a night. 

“I’m gonna wash this wraith stench off of me,” you told Dean. You then added quietly so John—who was sitting at the table and cleaning his guns—wouldn’t hear; “Would you like to join me, handsome?”

“More than anything,” he whispered before he bent down and kissed you. John coughed loudly, and you weren’t sure if it was just a perfectly timed accident or a purposeful guilt trip. It was most likely the latter. “But… I think it’s better if I don’t, sweetheart.”

You smiled sadly with a small nod; “Next time, then,” you assured him. You looked up into his eyes and noticed the tiredness laced with the usual burden he carried. He blinked unusually slowly as if he was trying his damndest to stay awake, and you furrowed your brows. “How about you head to bed, you can shower after you get some sleep.”

“It’s alright, I’m not that tired,” he said.

“Hey, are you feeling okay?” you asked him, barely above a whisper so that John wouldn’t hear.

John didn’t like you. He didn’t really trust your intentions with his son, and he thought you were just a distraction that would end up getting Dean killed if he wasn’t careful. He didn’t like how easily Dean would get ‘all giggly’ when he was near you, and he didn’t like that his son kept his guard down when he was with you.

He didn’t like the matching rings you wore, or that you too often referred to the other as husband or wife when a stranger would ask. You weren’t married, you were his fucking girlfriend and John fully believed you wouldn’t still be together by the time Sam finished his first four years at Stanford. 

“I’m fine,” he replied, matching your quiet tone. “I’ll shower right after you so don’t use up all the hot water, okay?” There was a teasing smirk on his face which made your worries subside temporarily.

“I promise to leave you some,” you said before you kissed him once more.

**

“Dean are you okay?” you asked, seeing the far-off look in his eyes when you left the bathroom.

“Yeah, I uh…” He rubbed his eyes as he tried to again focus on your face. He looked over at his dad, who raised a brow at his eldest son. “I’m fine, sweetheart.”

You followed his line of sight and pursed your lips when you saw John.

“Dean says he’s fine, drop it Y/n,” he told you.

Against your better judgment, you decided not to ask Dean again. With your hair still wet from the shower, you took the brush from your bag and started fixing it. 

“Aren’t you gonna shower, babe?” you asked Dean, who hadn’t moved an inch.

“Uh, yeah,” he said. He started to kick off his shoes when he tripped and fell straight to the floor, his cheek now pressed against the carpet.

“Dean!?” you exclaimed and hurried over to him. You fell to your knees and took him into your arms, shaking him gently in hopes he’d just wake up. “Dean? Dean, honey, please? J-John he’s not waking up!” You pressed your lips to his temple; “C’mon, Dean!”

John had left his spot on the couch and was now hovering over you, as you looked up at him desperately.

“Is he breathing?”

“Yeah,” you replied, tears slipping down your cheeks. John helped you lay Dean down so he could check his breathing.

“He seems fine,” John deduced. “Is there a wound we missed or something?”

“W-We need to call an ambulance,” you said and rushed to grab your phone off the nightstand.

“Y/n, Dean wouldn’t want us to call the cops,” John replied. He seemed a little too calm for your liking, so you weren’t about to let him call the shots regarding Dean’s wellbeing.

“I don’t care, we’re getting him to the fucking hospital,” you said as you dialed and made your way back to Dean. “Now hide your goddamn guns before the paramedics get here—I need an ambulance at the Rosebud Motel room 302, my husband just collapsed unexpectedly.” You ignored the look John gave you when you called Dean that. The operator asked questions and you answered each one; “Yes, he’s breathing… No, no bleeding… He’s twenty-five… Uhm, I’m not sure…” You pulled the phone from your ear; “Has he had anything to drink yet tonight?”

John was putting away the guns and paused to think before he shrugged; “I dunno, I wasn’t watching.” 

Your eyes widened and your teeth clenched, the fucking audacity. Looking at the table you saw three opened beers so you made an educated guess when you answered the 9-1-1 operator.

“He might’ve had a beer or two, but he’s not a lightweight, he’d never pass out after two beers… Yes, his dad is in the room with me… Yes, I can stay on the line.” You took in a shaky breath as you brought his hand to your lips and kissed his knuckles. 

“Just stay calm, ma’am, help is on the way.”

“I’m trying,” you replied, tears streaming down your cheeks as you kept his hand pressed to your lips. “Th-This isn’t like him, he’s–he’s always okay.”

**

You bounced your leg anxiously as you sat next to John in the waiting room. As you absentmindedly played with the ring on your right ring finger, you couldn’t help but think of the time when Dean had told you how much you truly meant to him almost three years ago.

* flashback *

“I got you a present.” His smile was adorable as he sat next to you on the couch. He saw your face light up and felt the need to downplay the gift; “It’s nothing much, don’t get too excited.”

“Dean, you could give me a dirty sock and I’d love it,” you teased, placing a quick kiss on his pink lips.

“Well… this is like one teer above ‘dirty sock’, I think.” He smirked and handed you the small velvet box. 

You opened it and your jaw fell open; “Oh my god, Dean!”

“I know how much you like mine,” he said quietly.

“I do like yous,” you took his right hand in yours and kissed the ring on his finger, “I love yours, Dean.”

“Well, this one is exactly like mine.” He smiled. “Except it’s in your size, obviously, so we can… you know… match.” You took the ring out of the box and admired it for a moment. You were about to put it on but he stopped you; “May I do the honors, sweetheart?” he asked. You couldn’t help the giggle that escaped your lips as you nodded and he took it from you. He slipped the ring onto your right ring finger before he kissed your hand. 

“I mean this in the most genuine way possible; this is by far the best gift anyone has ever gotten me, Dean! Ever!”

A sheepish blush was forming on his cheeks as he leaned over and kissed your lips; “I love you so much.” He pulled away so he could look at you; “And, I want you to know this isn’t a regular gift.”

“Yeah?” you asked, your smile growing. 

“Yeah,” he replied and kissed you again. When he pulled away again he chickened out a little and didn’t say what he was going to. “You’re twenty-one, which means you can now legally drink in all fifty states.” He stood up, pulling on your hand gently so you would follow him to the kitchen. He took two beers out of the fridge and put them on the table. He used the ring on his finger to easily open one then handed the other to you. “Why don’t you give it a try.”

It took you a few tries but you managed to open the beer using the ring he just gave you; “Okay, now that’s awesome!”

“Happy birthday, sweetheart!” Dean said and you clinked your beers together before you both started drinking them. As he brought the bottle down from his lips, he watched as you kept drinking and smiled to himself. He suddenly felt the courage he felt when he bought the ring and decided to tell you his thoughts; “You know you’re the only girl for me, right?” You nodded with a smile. “I don’t just mean ‘for now’ I mean like forever. That’s the real meaning behind the ring, I love you and I want to be with you for the rest of our lives.”

You couldn’t help the happy tears beginning to sting your eyes as you looked up at him; “Forever?”

“Forever.”

* end of flashback *

You were shaken back to cruel reality by the sound of John’s voice beside you; “What’s taking them so long? We’ve gotta get back on the fuckin’ road.”

“Are you fucking serious right now?” you scoffed and looked at him. “Dean might be in serious trouble, and you’re thinking about the next hunt!?”

“Dean’s gonna be fine.” He rolled his eyes.

“We don’t know that,” you replied. You again started fiddling with the ring Dean had given to you.

“You know that ring doesn’t make you two husband and wife,” John commented. 

You stood up abruptly, not wanting to say what was running through your head; Yeah, and Dean being so fucking perfect doesn’t make you a good father.

“Dean Smith’s next of kin?” the doctor asked. 

“I’m his wife, this is his dad,” you said. “H-How is he?”

“He’ll be fine,” she replied. “He has a very minor concussion from when his head hit the floor, but he just needs some rest.”

“What happened?” John asked. 

“He fainted from over-exhaustion, he’s gonna be okay.”

“Over-exhaustion?” You furrowed your brows, placing a hand over your chest. “B-But he’s been eating fine? A-And sleeping as much as me, I think?”

“Actually,” John interrupted, “he’s been helping me with research at night, he doesn’t sleep as much as you.” 

Never in your life had you wanted to knee John Winchester in the balls as badly as you wanted to at that moment.

“How many hours a night are you sleeping, hun?” the doctor asked you.

“Like three to five… every other night,” you admitted. “And that’s always been enough! If it wasn’t, Dean could’ve just taken a nap he didn’t have to—fuck.”

“Can we see him?” John asked.

“He’s still asleep but yes, you can go and see him,” she replied.

On the way to Dean’s room, you kept wondering how this all happened—how did Dean get so fucking tied he collapsed!? If he was staying up at night, why didn’t he just sleep in the car? You would’ve happily driven Baby, and it’s not like you hadn’t done that before—Dean’s love language was sharing that fucking car.

“This hasn’t ever happened before, right?” you asked John. 

“Never,” he replied. “Guess Dean’s just not as strong as he used to be.”

“Excuse me?” you seethed and stopped in your tracks, pulling John to a halt as well. “Dean is a fucking hero but he is not a machine, he’s a fucking human being who’s been treated like a soldier since he was six-fucking-years-old!”

“If you wanna say something, fucking say it!” John exclaimed. 

“Oh, I am saying it! How fucking dare you work him so hard that he lands in the fucking emergency room!”

“We all know in this line of work, we have to do what we have to do!”

You slapped him hard across the face and your eyes widened when you realized what you did. 

“Dean is your son,” you said, quickly changing your facial expression back into one of pure rage. “He is your fucking child and you’ve been treating him like shit for far too long. He deserves better, he doesn’t deserve to be so fucking exhausted that he collapses.”

You walked away and into Dean’s room. Seeing him lying in the hospital bed made your heart break as tears welled in your eyes. 

“Oh god,” you mumbled. “Dean.” You quickly pulled up a chair so you could sit next to his bed and patiently wait for him to wake up. John did the same, though he seemed annoyed by the fact Dean was still asleep. 

You weren’t sure how long had passed before John got fed up; “Can you press the button for the nurse so we can ask when he’s supposed to wake up?”

“I think we should just let him sleep, don’t you?” you whispered, not knowing if Dean had been sedated or if he was just resting like normal.

“I didn’t ask for your opinion, I told you to call the damn nurse,” he said, raising his voice which caused Dean to stir awake.

“Hey sweetheart,” Dean said groggily, his eyes half-hooded as he brought your hand to his lips and placed a kiss on your knuckles. He then dropped your hand and rubbed his eyes to wake himself up. “This isn’t the motel,” he realized. He noticed John sitting at the other side of the bed and he sat up a little, trying to somewhat compose himself. “Wh-What happened?”

“I’ll fill you in,” John said. “Y/n, why don’t you go grab us some coffee so I can talk with my son?”

All your instincts told you not to leave the two Winchesters alone but what choice did you have? You didn’t want to start another fight with John, you were tired too, and you didn’t want Dean worrying.

“Yeah, sure,” you said. You took the time to bend down and place a loving kiss on Dean’s forehead, causing him to smile. “No coffee for you though, you need more sleep,” you told him before you left the room. 

About ten minutes later you walked back in and the sight practically made your eyes bulge out of your skull as your jaw flew open. 

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” you asked and placed the two cups to the side. 

“Dad said there’s a hunt,” Dean said matter-of-factly. “I can sleep in the car or something, let’s go.” He started to stand up so you pushed him back down. 

“How fucking dare you!” you exclaimed at John, who stood on the other side of the bed. “How dare you tell him to suit up right now! He is staying here in this hospital, and he is getting some goddamn sleep!”

“That is not your decision,” John replied. “If Dean says he’s fine, then he’s fine.”

“You realize those are the exact words you said to me before your son collapsed, right?” you scoffed. “Dean lay back down now,” you told him as you began taking his boots off. “You are staying here for the night, you understand me?”

“Don’t you boss him around!” John exclaimed. “Dean and I are leaving here now.”

“You can leave if you want to, but Dean is staying put!” you replied, matching his tone. 

“No, he is not!” John yelled. 

You’d never fought with John like this, usually yelling and getting yelled at made your eyes tear up in the most inconvenient way. But this? Dean’s health? You were not about to back down. Not one single tear dared to appear in your eyes as you looked at John with such anger you wanted to slap him across the face… again.

“Why don’t we get a third opinion?” you suggested.

“Yeah, Dean, do you wanna sit here like a pussy or do you wanna go save some fucking lives?” John turned to look at him.

“Don’t answer that,” you said quickly. “I meant, let’s call the nurse and see what they have to say about it.”

Before John could protest, you walked over and pressed the button. It took half a minute—during which you and John stared daggers at each other—but soon the nurse walked in.

“How is everyone?” she asked, noticing the tension in the room.

“Do you think this young man here can leave yet? He’s doing fine and wants to go home,” John said. 

“Let me check his chart,” she replied before doing so. “I would have to no, he should definitely stay here and get some much-needed rest.”

“Is there a doctor—” John started but you stopped him.

“Goddamn it John!” you scoffed. “He is not leaving!” 

“You are not his fucking family!” John shouted, much louder than before. “I am! You aren’t his wife, you aren’t his sister, you aren’t his fucking mother—you are just his current girlfriend, and believe me that’ll fucking change in a heartbeat. You are not in charge of what Dean does, you are not family.” There was a short pause as your eyes brimmed with tears yet you refused to let them fall. John sighed and continued; “I am Dean’s father, I know what’s best for him, and I say he’s packing his things and getting the hell outta here.”

The nurse looked absolutely shocked, her jaw hanging open. The look John gave her made her hurry out of the room.

“Dad,” Dean said, seeing the tears in your eyes. “Dad, you can yell at me all you want, I’m your kid but…” He exhaled shakily as John turned to look at him with a frustrated look. “But you can’t talk to her like that, you just can’t. You might not think of her as family but that’s on you, she is a part of my family, Dad. And yeah, we might not be legally married or whatever but she’s not just my current girlfriend? She basically is my wife, we’re not just… dating?” Dean looked at his father with a sense of desperation, John just had to apologize and you could all drop it. Of course, John, being a stubborn bastard, held his ground and crossed his arms authoritatively. “I-If you aren’t gonna take back what you just said to her y-you can go on this next hunt alone.”

“Excuse me?” John scoffed. 

“You heard me,” Dean replied. “She’s everything to me and I can’t sit idly by while you talk to her like that.”

“So you’re talkin’ back to me now? Like Sammy?” John asked. “Refusing to take orders?”

“This isn’t about me, Dad!” Dean said, his face twisted with guilt. “You know I follow any orders you give, that I’m quick to obey. But you saying Y/n isn’t family? I-I’m sorry but I can’t let that slide, Dad.”

John huffed and abruptly left the room.

“I’m sorry,” you said to Dean the moment John was out of earshot.

“Me too.” Dean smiled sadly as you both wiped your eyes quickly.

“Why don’t we get these jeans off of you so you can be more comfortable?” you suggested patting his shin.

His brows shot up; “Really? Here? Now?”

“Dean, no!” you chuckled, shaking your head. “I meant comfortable so you can go to sleep!”

“Oh…yeah, that makes more sense.” His trademark cocky smile was back and that made your own smile return to your now tear-stained face.

“I’m serious about you staying put, you know.” You nodded toward his pants and he got the message. 

“You can be real stubborn, you know that?” he laughed as he hurried and slipped his pants off. You folded them up and put them on the chair along with his belt. He shrugged off his jacket and you tossed it on top of where the pants sat. 

“Get under the covers,” you said. He rolled his eyes playfully but he obliged nonetheless. 

“Happy?” He smiled when he was comfortable in the bed. 

You nodded; “I love you, Dean.” You leaned down and placed a kiss on his lips, causing his smile to turn more genuine. 

“Hey,” the doctor interrupted as she walked into the room, “Nurse Roberts just told me about the little outburst… everything okay in here?”

“Yeah, just a little misunderstanding is all,” you replied. “But it’s all settled—Dean’s staying the night.”

“That’s good to hear,” she said with a smile. “I’ve gotta be honest I’ve never seen anything like this.”

“What do you mean?” you asked, clearly anxious about her statement.

“I just meant that your husband is very healthy,” she assured you; “I’ve never seen a young, healthy man like him just collapse from over-exhaustion.”

“First time for everything I guess,” Dean laughed nervously.

You glared at him; “Not funny, babe.”

“She’s right,” the doctor backed you up. “Now, whatever you’ve been doing recently that caused you to lose this much sleep, get this stressed you need to quit it right here, right now.”

“It’s our job, we can’t just… quit,” you said. “But I will definitely keep a closer eye on him from now on, make sure he’s getting enough sleep.”

“You can’t put this all on her, you understand me, Mr. Smith?” She looked at Dean before he nodded shyly. “Mrs. Smith you need to fix your own sleeping habits as well — if you both don’t smarten up and take better care of yourselves, you will definitely be right back here before the end of the year. You got that?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Dean said. 

“Good.” She nodded. “Now, I’m gonna give you a small dose of a mild sedative to help you fall asleep, alright?” She said as she made her way over to Dean’s IV bag to give him the sedative. “You ripped this out the second you woke up, didn’t you?” She asked him when she realized the needle was no longer in his arm. “You two, I swear!” She started preparing to simply inject Dean with the sedative but you stopped her.

“Is there maybe like a pill equivalent to what you’re giving him? He doesn’t really like needles,” you said. 

“There is, would you prefer that?” she asked Dean, and he nodded vigorously. “Alright, I’ll go and grab that for you then. Mrs. Smith the chair in the corner folds out into a small bed if you two don’t want to share one.”

“Oh, that’s alright, I’m not tired,” you said. 

She gave you a look; “Seriously? Hun, what did we just talk about?”

“I get that, but I know Dean’s not gonna sleep properly if he doesn’t feel safe.”

“This is a hospital, it’s safe,” she said. 

“Sorry,” you said with a small shrug, and again she sighed.

At that moment, John decided to walk back into the room, making your breath hitch a little before the doctor left to get the meds for Dean. 

“It’s alright, you two get some sleep; I’ll keep watch,” he said as he made his way over to the chair and sat down. 

“You sure, dad? I thought you said there was a job nearby?” Dean asked. 

John looked at you and smiled ever-so-slightly. Maybe it was something you had said to him, maybe John didn’t want you being alone with Dean while he was so weak, or maybe there never was a job and he didn’t have anything better to do than stay with his son. 

For whatever reason, John Winchester sighed and answered; “You’re more important, Dean. Your safety is more important. Now quit whining and get some sleep.”

Dean pulled the covers back, silently asking you to join him in the bed and, of course, you obliged. You gave him a quick kiss on the lips before getting comfortable in his arms.

“I love you, sweetheart,” he said, kissing your temple. 

“I love you more,” you replied, making him let out a soft laugh. 

“You always gotta one-up me, huh?” he chuckled. 

“Uh-huh,” you giggled. His arms tightened around your frame as he tucked your head under his chin. John couldn’t help but feel a twinge of guilt for treating not only you but his own son so poorly. Every time John saw Dean be this relaxed and happy, you were always the cause. Maybe that wasn’t such a bad thing.

By the time the doctor got back about seven minutes later, you and Dean were both fast asleep; the latter letting out snores that gently moved your hair with each breath. She smiled a little at the sight and decided to duck back out of the room so as not to wake you two.

[kalims]

kiss your best friend | diasomnia

kiss your best friend and see how they react!

parts. one , two , three , four , five , six , seven

characters. malleus, lilia, sebek, silver

content. gender neutral reader as usual, mentions of murder by lilia's cooking, someone faints lol

note. finally last part after ten years /j

malleus

goes absolutely silent but his surprise is definitely there -> eyes widen, brows raise on a miniscule scale. you'd think the guy would be all lowkey about his joy but five seconds later and there are comical sparkles surrounding his face.

I mean. you had to formally confirm that you two were friends before, and you had off-handedly linked his name and best friend in the same sentence a few months later (he was bursting for like a week.) and now all that?

thrown away, nu-uh. you two are NOT friends no more, he doesn’t have a single care in the world. he's throwing the friends label off a cliff with his foot and skipping off with joy cause you just got upgraded to the next ruler of briar valley wink wonk.

or perhaps you'd like being referred to as his consort? he can always make the people refer to you as both.

if you're wondering why he's so silent all of a sudden; malleus: already thinking of how he'd decorate the castle when you move in with him. maybe... he can break down the wall to link your two bedrooms together—wait no he'd very much like to share the same room instead..

"child of man, do you prefer violet or green?"

"uh... green...?"

"excellent choice, you have my gratitude."

the thing you should be asking is 'why' because it's either the main color theme of your wedding or the gem he'd engrave on your ring (he's very happy it's green though, since it'd be a constant reminder of him.. oh he knows! he should get his a color of your eyes too—)

someone stop him.

lilia

spiderman kisses spiderman kisses spiderman kisses spiderman kisses

more knowledgeable than malleus about the level up of relationships so he doesn't jump from best friends to newlyweds immediately. actually he doesn't even need a label, if you're going around kissing him he's just gonna act like you two are a married couple without a confirmation on your status'

"darling, could you hand me the sugar?"

"lilia, I hope you know that you're supposed to use salt for the sauce not sugar." <- *passes the right bottle*

ignoring lilia's attempts on lives he acts pretty normal.

ahem, besides the fact that your first kiss on him has made him come to the conclusion that he can now incorporate kisses in your daily routine since you've already done it, so apparently that means he can too.

kiss him once, he kisses you thrice I guess. it's either the occasional jumpscare from the ceiling since he felt like reminding you of his love through a pack or the times you blink and feel a sensation against your lips without seeing anything cause his affection can be silent as it is loud you suppose.

pov student you were speaking to who definitely saw that but you didn't midst your blink: 😨—

"lilia are we dating."

"i suppose it would make us more official like you humans like, so of course~"

he just accepts it without any complaints, just announce you're spouses and he'll accept that too probably.

#chill

silver

if we have spiderman kisses surely we can have the sleeping beauty kiss?

sleeping beauty kisses sleeping beauty kisses sleeping beauty kisses sleeping beauty kisses

I reckon he would be a pretty light sleeper though the quantity of his sleep is more often than not so even though he accidentally passes out a lot he's really easy to wake. trained to be vigilant and all, courtesy of his murderous father (well, murderous through food?)

he knows the weight of certain things. a blanket draped over him, the feeling of something squirming on his shoulder—a squirrel, most likely. something on his head, a bird or some other critter. but this?

a light press on his lips, gone as quickly as it came. that, he isn't sure of. the animals don't tend to linger around his face so the unknown origin of it has curiosity opening his eyes.

and boy, he is trying to find every reason to not believe that you didn't peck him.

perhaps they touched it? he furrows his brows lightly, attempting hard at trying to avoid your gaze because he feels guilty at his first assumption, you're his best friend! you wouldn't do such a thing..

"did you touch my lips?"

"nah, is it fine that I kissed you?"

"..."

"..."

*passes out*

is he dreaming?

sebek

in what scenario will sebek even let you near him? hmmm.. I suppose being 'best friends' (he calls you self proclaimed, and that you guys aren't that close but still rages over someone and hits them with an essay why you're so much better than their insults) makes you more tolerable around to be closer.

totally not the fact that he might have a crush on you, which can't be right cause he can't be capable of having feelings for a *gasp* human!

scandalous. he knows.

raises a brow when you do anything but be discrete with your intentions of shuffling closer but he doesn't really double back, okay. he's getting a little concerned now when you continue getting closer, he takes a step back not because you're near or anything but this behavior is... just strange.

you're in his face already and before he can question (loudly) what in the seven's name you're doing before you just casually peck him on the lips?

WHAT IN TARNATION!

stiffens up immediately, his face looks like it's holding in a yell. maybe that's why it's getting so red? he's just standing there with shoulders so tense he looks like he's trying to seem big.

"..." WHAT JUST HAPPENED. DID THIS HUMAN JUST.. NO, WE ARE MERELY BEST FRIENDS—are we even friends.. NO! THIS IS THE MOST INAPPROPRIATE ACT TO COMMIT. THIS HUMAN NEEDS TO KNOW BOUNDARIES. I mean he enjoyed that and all—I mean what..

"why are you so quiet."

if only you knew.

[w2soneshots]

Two becomes three -George clarkey

words: 2.4k+

warnings: unplanned pregnancy, sickness, worrying, birth.

summary: you and your husband George’s journey to unexpectedly becoming parents along with your social media posts during your pregnancy.

notes: hello my loves! Here’s the request. I love writing fluffy fics like this🥹. I hope you all enjoy this extra long one shot!!🧸🎀🤍 (please lmk what you think!)

Liked by wroetoshaw, mollymae and 934,125 others

y/username: baby has entered the chat @georgeclarkeey

-comments-

chrismd10: congratulations guys❤️

faithloisak: how cute!! So happy for you two🥹✨

max_balegdae: ahhhhhhhhh

y/nfanpage21: there's no fucking way!!🙊

user27549810: the random George jump-scare at the end lol

user60286430: didn't they just get married like five seconds ago?😅

I met my now husband George four years ago. He followed me on instagram, I followed him back and not long after that we were dating. Last year he proposed and just under a month ago we had our wedding, which was beautiful and only had our closet friends and family.

An hour ago I took a pregnancy test. I was only a day late on my period but I took it just in case. I could hardly believe it when I saw two lines and it was so faint that I convinced myself I was seeing things so I decided to sleep on it and then tell George when I knew for sure.

But I just couldn't keep it a secret. I blurted out, "George, I think pregnant." As soon as he walked through the front door after his shoot with Arthur tv. He was baffled. "You- woah- you think?" I nodded. He took a moment to process what I just said. "And you took a test?" He finally asked. "Yeah, the lines were really faint though. I was gonna wait until tomorrow to tell you but- it just came out."

He stepped forward and wrapped his arms around my shoulders. I let out a soft sigh of relief. "If you are then I'll be so happy," he whispered into my hair. I smiled, though he couldn't see me. "I'm so overwhelmed," I mumbled. His hand made its way up to my hair and he gently ran it over my scalp, silently reassuring me.

That night everything felt so strange. You're supposed to take the tests in the morning anyway for the most accurate results so we were just waiting and trying not to get our hopes up in case it wasn't positive.

The next morning I woke to an empty bed. I reached for my phone and then read the text George had sent me just ten minutes ago; "gone to buy more tests, hopefully I'll be back before you're awake x" I sighed softly then got up.

As I was brushing my teeth the front door clicked open and soon George was walking into the ensuite. He smiled softly as he wrapped his arms around my waist from behind, looking at me through the mirror. "Ready, love?"

"You look. I can't." I quickly passed the upside down test to George as we sat on the end of our bed. Just seconds before, the alarm on my phone rung but I couldn't bring myself to look at the test.

He took it and flipped it over. A wide smile spread across his face as an excited chuckle escaped his mouth. "Seriously?" I asked, shocked. "Y- yeah, you're pregnant!" He shot up of the bed. I giggled. "I'm gonna be a dad!" He pulled me up and into a bone crushing hug.

The next two months weren't very fun. At the beginning we were both so ecstatic. Then the morning sickness hit. I could barely eat, sleep and it was becoming impossible to make up excuses for why I couldn't go out.

George was like my rock through the entire ordeal. He was by my side every time I had to run to the bathroom, he held me and gently stroked my back as I tried to get some sleep, he pleaded with the doctor when we went for my first appointment hoping there was something, anything they could do and he let me ramble on about how I just wanted to feel normal again.

Slowly our friends figured it out and offered their help. The girls put together a basket and Faith made sure to include everything that helped her through her first trimester, Chris came round to keep me company while George had to go and film something for a brand deal and George's sister sat with me as we online shopped since I couldn't really go out.

When the sickness slowly started to ease off everyone was so relieved, George especially because he hated seeing me constantly upset. I was finally able to enjoy pregnancy, announce it on instagram and suddenly the last few months were erased from my mind.

Liked by faithloisak, arthurtv and 513,290 others

y/username: love, hate relationship with the heat

-comments-

taliamar: you're glowing babe!!💞

-> y/username: 🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼

georgeclarkeey: 🐊

y/nfanpage21: the puppy🥹

user85299106: this is adorable

At twenty two weeks we went on our little baby moon. I spent twelve days relaxing in the sun while George fussed about suncream and making sure I was in the shade. Since becoming pregnant he's been much more protective, which I don't mind since it's never overbearing. He's just trying to help in anyway possible.

"Good morning sleepy head." George greeted me quietly, sitting on the side of the bed next to my sleepy form and gently pushing the messy hair from my face. "Mornin'" I mumbled, shuffling slightly. He leaned down to press a soft kiss to my forehead before asking if I wanted some breakfast, to which I immediately nodded.

We left our little apartment after getting ready and walked hand in hand down the street towards the cute little outdoor café we'd spent quite a few mornings in the past week and a half.

"Thank you." I smiled at the young girl handing me my pancakes. "Will that be all?" She asked politely after placing George's breakfast in front of him. I nodded and she walked away.

"Mmm, I'm so glad I can actually enjoy food again," I said after swallowing a mouthful of food. George just stared at me. "What?" "I just love watching you." I chuckled. "That sounds a bit creepy babe."

When the day came that our baby moon was over I was sad to be leaving such a beautiful place that I'd made life long memories in but I was secretly very excited to be going home and getting back into normal life.

Liked by chrismd10, taliamar and 623,309 others

y/username: clearing out my camera roll✨

-comments-

arthurtv: fifth slide?😭

-> georgeclarkeey:🫃🏼🤰

faithloisak: stunning!!!

y/nfanpage21: you, the bump, the flowers, all so cute💝

user10479624: you're both going to be the best parents

The next few months were spent relaxing and preparing for the arrival of our baby, who we found out the sex of just after our baby moon. We had a little gender reveal at our apartment with our families and a few special friends. We decided on a cake, classic, cute and delicious.

"I can't tell!" George announced. I stood next to him, my hand holding the knife that was cutting through the cake. Both of us were trying to peek at the sponge but it wasn't until I pulled the slice out that we spotted the pink.

Immediately the room erupted into cheers. I placed it down on a plate along with the knife and I turned to my husband. Tears welled in my eyes and when he wrapped his arms around me and pulled my body off of the ground the commotion around us seemed to disappear and all I could focus on was us.

"We're having a girl," I whispered, as though I was trying to convince myself that this was actually real. He gently placed me down, his hands landing on my hips. "I knew it. Dad intuition goes crazy." I giggled before pushing onto my tip toes and placing a loving kiss to his lips.

After that day I was suddenly obsessed with buying baby clothes, what the nursery was going to look like and the realisation hit me that I was actually going to have to push a human being out of my body, though George was quick to reassure me about that.

"Baby's the size of a small pineapple this week," I informed George as we sat on the couch, my feet resting on his lap as he slowly massaged them through my socks. I turned my phone around so he could see the app that keeps track of the baby.

"That's huge." He muttered, eyes widening slightly. I chuckled. "When she's done cooking she'll be the size of a pumpkin." "Oh god, I'm sorry." My brows furrowed, an amused look on my face. "What are you apologising for?"

"You're gonna have to lug around a pumpkin sized baby," he replied, deadly serious. I just laughed, though I wasn't particularly looking forward to that.

The months flew by and suddenly I was actually carrying a pumpkin sized baby in my stomach. At thirty seven weeks my back constantly ached, I needed to pee every five minutes, I wasn't sleeping properly since I had a future gymnast kicking around in my stomach and all in all I was just uncomfortable.

Since I could now go into labour at any second George was watching me like a hawk. Every grimace when I felt an extra strong kick, every sigh and every time my hand touched my stomach he would sit upright and just wait for me to say something.

"I'm fine, George," I'd say. "Just checking," he'd reply and that interaction would repeat itself another one hundred times before the day ended.

"I won't go if you don't want me to, Chris can find someone else last minute," George whispered as we lay in bed, my back pressed against his chest as he gently drew circles on the side of my bump. "No, I'll be okay. It's only a few hours," I mumbled back, half asleep. "Okay, just promise you'll call me if anything happens?" "Promise."

He left early the next morning to film the football video for Chris' channel, meaning I woke up alone. I went about my routine like normal though it felt like it was taking me longer to do my usual things, like I was moving at snail pace, which was slightly strange but I brushed it off.

An hour later I lay on the couch scrolling through instagram when I felt a twinge in my lower stomach. My brows furrowed slightly. "That was weird," I thought but I continued to scroll.

Until I felt it again. This time I decided to keep my promise to George and phone him. It ring a few times before he picked up. "Everything okay? Is it the baby?" He said immediately in a rushed tone. "I'm not sure, I just feel... weird."

He took in a shaky breath. "I knew I shouldn't have come today! I'm coming home." "It's fine, I'm- we're fine. Calm down-" "no no, I'll be there in twenty minutes, love you." And with that he ended the call. I sighed, feeling slightly bad that he'd had to leave the shoot but also a little relieved.

Just under twenty minutes later he burst through our apartment door. I stood in the kitchen, hands on the countertop as I took a deep breath, eyes squeezed shut. I heard his bags drop then the sound of his feet racing towards me.

"You said you just felt weird!" He placed his hand on the small of my back. I looked up at him as the pain subsided. "I did! It started getting worse after I called you."

George collected himself. "Okay okay, you're having contractions?" "Mhm, think so," I responded quietly. "How far apart?" "Like five minutes." He thought back to the birthing class we'd gone to last month. "I think we've got some time and the woman said the first kid always takes a while so let's not stress," he tried to reassure me and himself.

"I'll go get the bag, you just- uh... breathe." I chuckled softly, already calmer now that he was here. He emerged from our bedroom minutes later with the small suitcase in hand.

It took half a hour to get out of the door, drive to the hospital and get checked into a room. After that we could both relax.

The contractions weren't unbearable but I wanted the epidural as soon as possible. "Hmf-" I squeezed George's hand. "Another one?" He asked softly. All I could do was nod. "You're doing amazing sweetheart, so so good. I'm so proud of you."

Once I got the injection I felt like a million bucks. I couldn't feel the contractions, just a little bit of pressure. I sat in the bed happily as I ate my ice chips. Before I knew it, it was time to push.

Liked by sidemen, prettylittlething and 1,004,586 others

y/username: we've been in our little baby bubble this week but I wanted to officially introduce you to Maddie Clarke🤍��🏼💫

-comments-

georgeclarkeey: my girls❤️

max_balegdae: yasss mother

taliamar: congratulations🥺💓

y/nfanpage21: I'M CRYING

user02781643: they're literally living the dream life omg!!

"She looks just like you," I said as I watched George's eyes fill with tears, his arms secured around his daughter, just ten minutes after she'd entered the world. He glanced down at me. "I love you so much, this is officially the best day of my life," he whispered. I smiled fondly and somehow I fell in love with George all over again, in a completely different way.

We spent a day and a half in the hospital before being discharged. It had been just me, George and the baby in a little room so it felt amazing to go home. I waddled after my husband as I watched him carry our newborn -who slept soundly in her car seat- out and toward the car. He strapped her in then helped me into the backseat.

"I get what people were taking about now," I said as he stared the engine. "Huh?" "I saw a video about the 'hot dad walk' out of the hospital and I totally get them." He chuckled, though he was cautious of the sleeping baby.

After a few days and once we were in somewhat of a routine his family came over to visit. His slightly younger sister was so excited and could barely keep quiet. "She's adorable. Oh my goodness, look at her little feet!" "Okay everyone, no touching until you've washed your hands!" He announced, pointing towards the kitchen sink.

I watched with a smile on my face as he fussed over whether Maddie's head was supported, it was extremely sweet how much he cared for and loved our daughter. I couldn't wait to watch as he became the best dad ever.

[the-darklings]

Oh god please write the timebomb fic!!! (or several lol)

ೀ pairing: ekko/jinx

ೀ wc: 5k

ೀ summary: "Always a dance with you, huh?" Or: two years after the battle versus Noxus, Ekko receives an unexpected visitor.

ೀ author notes: ask and you shall receive!!! I wrote this in one sitting in some weird ass haze and barely edited it, but this is the most fun I had in a long while so I hope you enjoy!!!

ೀ read it on ao3 | listen to the playlist

The first few days after the battle, Ekko doesn’t rest. He barely sleeps or eats, or allows himself time to think. 

He can’t. 

There’s too much to do. The dead are in their dozens. His Firelights took a major hit, and he knows that for the next few months his fingers will be numb from painting their pictures on the mural day in and out. So many who could have lived but didn’t. So many could have had better futures. But if he just runs, if he keeps pushing on, he can outrun these regrets and his grief, too. This way, he doesn’t remember Vi’s heartbroken expression when she pulled him into a bone-crushing hug after the fight, blood and sweat still clinging to her, her words choked when she told him—

Four seconds. 

He could have saved her. He would have hauled her snarky ass out of that tunnel, ripped that bomb from her hands. He would have—

He runs from those thoughts, too. They suffocate him, and Ekko has too much to fix to be suffocated by his grief right now. 

He sure as hell didn’t fight for Piltover. He fought for Zaun, for Firelights. Because he knew Ambessa Medarda would never settle for anything other than complete subjugation. She would have destroyed Ekko’s home. She was already busy murdering and imprisoning their people, and nothing but complete eradication would have followed in her wake. 

Ekko did it for… her. The blue-haired symbol of defiance, of uprising. A loud declaration that they won’t live under Piltover’s oppression forever, that they’ll reach greater things one day and won’t be silenced. They won’t wait for permission to breathe again. It’s what she would have wanted, he convinces himself, even though part of him knows Jinx would have enjoyed the chaos of the fight more. Or maybe not. Not since that little girl. Not since he had to save her from herself over and over again, only to lose her anyway. 

Undercity mourns her. Her visage is everywhere. Jinx the Saviour. She would have hated it, he thinks wryly. She never got to see just how loved she was. 

Maybe he should have grabbed her and ran away. Maybe he should have let the world go to hell and saved her instead. The thought, born of fatigue, lingers only for a few fleeting seconds, a rare moment of selfishness amidst a day spent fixing the world around him. 

Maybe, maybe, maybe. If only he had tried harder when they were kids and saved her from Silco. If only he didn’t give up on her. 

She’s always been his biggest maybe. And now they’ll never be more. Not this version of them. Never him and her as they were. 

Aw, are you gonna mope now, boy saviour?

“You’re not here.”

It punches clean through his chest. The realisation of it. The sheer, horrible weight. He’ll never see her again. 

Constants and variables, Benzo told him once. Constants and variables, young Ekko.

A week after the battle versus Noxus, Ekko sinks to his knees inside his room, exhausted and heartbroken, and sobs. 

.

Things begin to settle. Slowly, at first, the city might have been gutted after the battle but not destroyed, the morale low but hopeful. Hexgates are gone, and Ekko is glad when he finds out. He doesn’t want to see or hear anything about the arcane for a while. No magic in the world could fix the pain festering in his chest. 

Sevika, Silco’s old second-in-command and once his sworn enemy, comes to him two weeks after the attack. 

“They’re making me a council member,” she says, grunting when she falls into the tiny wooden chair inside his room. 

She’s always been a threatening figure, power rippling from every shift of her body, but Ekko isn’t sure he wants to fight anyone right now. Nor does she seem interested in strangling him. She lights a cigarette, her scarred features set in a fearsome scowl. 

“And?” he asks for anything better to say. “How is that any of my business?”

Sevika exhales through her nose, reminding him of an angry bull, all smoke and steely resolve. “I’m the only one presenting Zaun or her interests.” 

Ekko almost rolls his eyes. Of course she is. The Council is simply falling over themselves to fix the situation. After months of harassment and oppression, false arrestments and beatings, they asked them to bleed for Piltover and its interests with nothing but the bare minimum courtesy extended towards them afterwards.

“I could use you, kid,” Sevika continues, and Ekko forces his anger away, loosening his fists. “Exactly for that reaction. You’re smart as hell, and been a pain in my ass for years. Pilties will try to walk all over us again in a few months’ time. You and I both know it. We gotta beat them in their own game. Not let them silence us again. I could use someone like you. Be my adviser. You’ll have a direct line to the Council. We’ll make an actual change. It’s better than whatever this is.”

Ekko’s expression sours at her words while Sevika’s gaze flicks around his room in contemplation. He works all day to a point of exhaustion, then passes out. It’s the only way he’s been able to continue, day in and day out. Being in a leadership position means you can’t take time off to grieve. Too many people are relying on him. It’s bad enough that he accidentally abandoned his people for months without meaning to. The guilt he still feels over everything has been nearly suffocating. 

It’s a good gig, hero! You should do it and be a thorn in her side.

Ekko blinks the flash of blue from his vision, rubbing his brow just as Sevika adds: “It’s what she would have wanted, you know.”

A jolt of electricity runs through him. Everyone, even Vi, has been avoiding mentioning Jinx in front of him.  

His jaw clenches. “You don’t know that.”

“Kid, I know what not letting go looks like,” she says, and it almost sounds compassionate, or as close to it as someone like her can get. “We had our differences in the past, I know as much—”

“You killed my people,” Ekko snaps. “Do you know how many lives you destroyed with Shimmer?”

“Sure do,” she replies listlessly, smoke billowing past her lips. “I won’t try to justify my actions to you. But y’know, when you were gone, Jinx united Zaun in a way I haven’t seen since Vander. Beats me how she did it, but people believed in her. Even your Firelights.”

It mirrors everything he’s seen and heard for weeks. Jinx freeing their people, Jinx the Saviour, the beacon for their new future. The one who set and lived by extreme examples, who made Piltover back off and take the Undercity seriously. Because they all finally realised that there can never be peace without a fight. She should be here to fight this battle with him. Ekko should be busy arguing with her that blowing up another building will not make things right. He shouldn’t be walking around with her ghost a step behind him, tormenting him with ideas of what could and should have been. 

“And now she’s dead!”

His ears ring, his chest heaves, and he clutches his thudding heart, willing it back in its cage. He didn’t mean to come undone so easily. 

“Yeah. Yeah, she is,” Sevika says, and there’s a grimness to her when she says it, an unexpected pain buried somewhere deep in her gruff voice that makes Ekko see her differently. “I get it.”

“No,” he whispers, pained. “You don’t.”

.

Seven months pass before Ekko finally picks up a brush for her. 

He sleeps better at night but not without nightmares. Not without remembering Powder from the alternative universe and how they danced. How sweet her kiss felt. Not without that memory smearing to finding Jinx with a grenade in her hand, again, ready to disappear, go somewhere he could never reach her. 

Ekko still hears the detonation in his ears, over and over, on a sickening loop. His mind likes to torture him with ideas he failed to save her. That no matter what he does, or how he mends time, she’s forever out of reach. His blue beacon, his lighthouse he can never find in the depthless ocean of reality. 

Many have drawn her, but he still thinks that no one knows the exact hue of her hair or the wicked shine in her eyes better than him. He’s spent an entire lifetime examining them, looking for them in a sea of thousands. 

Their city is rebuilding. He agreed to Sevika’s request after a few days of contemplation. Caitlyn Kiramman’s expression when he ambled into the Council room was worth the additional burden now on his shoulder. But she’s changed too, matured, and now fills her position as the Council’s leader well. 

Ekko won’t forget how she allowed his friends to be imprisoned, tortured, and, in some cases, killed, but her regret made her side with him and Sevika more often than not during voting, and maybe he could at least one day forgive her. Another maybe. For Vi, if nothing else, who clearly loves the blue-haired woman fiercely. 

The barren wall stares at him. He’s painted Powder before, but this is different. One day, his friend, his dearest friend, was simply gone. Without a goodbye, in a wake of tragedy. The life Ekko once had disintegrated beneath his feet overnight. Benzo killed. Vander dead. Mylo and Claggor too. Vi died as well. Or so he believed for years. Powder was missing until a different knife was delivered to him weeks later, when the word on the street spread about Silco being seen with a little girl with blue hair. 

Ekko sighs, hanging his head. The city is healing, but he isn’t, or at least not as quickly. 

He runs his hand over the white wall, picturing Jinx as he saw her last, those precious hours between talking her down from the abyss and their joint attack on Noxian forces. It felt so good to rely on her again, to stand with her, side by side. As natural as breathing. 

You’re the order to my chaos, hero. 

“Leave me alone,” he says quietly, head hung low. “It’s been months.”

A figment of Jinx chortles, arms crossed over her chest as she leans back against the wall. You would get bored to death without me. Ha! Get it? 

Shooting a glare at her, Ekko picks up a brush, his fingers quivering. Tears burn in his eyes when he dips the brush into the paints he painstakingly mixed. He works, and works, until his eyes are dry and his wrist hurts. Ekko doesn’t stop until he loses light and when he steps back, he is looking at Jinx. Equal parts chaos and something ethereal. 

He wipes angrily across his mouth when he tastes saltiness pooling there and goes home. 

There’s no sleep that night. 

.

Time is a strange thing. It weaves and flows. Without his Z-Drive, he has no control over it. Time simply goes on, and he’s the passenger in a vehicle he doesn’t want to move. 

He’s important these days. He’s one of the few bright minds still left, and he’s endlessly busy with something. City of Progress needs every mind that can be spared. Wounds heal, and time dulls the memory, but not everything is so easily forgotten. Piltover moves quicker, but the Undercity erects a statue for Jinx beside Vander’s. He sees Vi at the ceremony, and they exchange strained smiles. They speak sometimes, but it’s not as often as it used to be. They’re both dealing with their grief the best they can.

At least Vi has Cait. Ekko has nothing but a cold bed and purpose. 

He and Sevika make a good team. It almost makes him wonder what could have been in a universe where they were on the same side from the start. His Zaun, cracked but not broken, is resembling the bright version of the Zaun and Piltover he saw in the alternative verse. There're years of work still left, but there’s something like hope in him, fragile and misplaced as it might be. 

A year passes. Then two. He visits the graves; he lights candles for those lost. Some days Ekko sees her, other days he doesn’t. He hopes for a glimpse, even when he knows he shouldn’t. It should be easier to let go of what you never had, right? 

His mural for Jinx grows. Other faces join her, people who died believing in her, surrounding the one they placed their trust in. And, at the centre of it all, her, her, her. 

Still her. 

Always her. 

. 

He’s not sure what arouses him. He hasn’t slept well in years, perpetual exhaustion clinging to him like a shawl. Some would call it the weight of living, no doubt. 

There’s a shift in the air, a disturbance that’s not enough to make Ekko jolt awake and reach for a weapon, but enough to make his eyes flutter open. He breathes the cool air, pushing his grogginess away. 

There’s a shape at the foot of his bed. Small and round. It takes several seconds for his vision to adjust, for him to realise that a hooded figure sits perched on his bed, knees pulled to their chest.

Ekko hasn’t had to rely on his battle instincts in two years, but there’s enough left in him to attack without hesitation. His fingers tangle in the cloak, shoving the figure down, his knee pressing harshly into their abdominal, hands seeking the intruder’s throat—

“Wow, little man, you sure know how to roll out the welcoming mat,” the all too familiar voice drawls before his fingers tighten instinctively around the slender, warm throat. 

A haggard breath forces from Ekko’s parted mouth. In the wild struggle, the stranger’s hood has slipped down, revealing a familiar face with a startling crop of blue hair. His heart squeezes painfully, forcing him away from Jinx’s apparition. 

“Leave me alone,” he croaks, rubbing his eyes till his vision swims. “Just leave me alone! I don’t want to see you anymore!”

“Huh, fine. I thought after two years, the welcome would be a tad warmer. Brrr.”

Ekko pushes himself to his feet, stumbling away, watching warily as the young woman sits back up, picking at her messy hair. She looks different. A little older than Jinx from his visions or memories. Her hair is longer, though nowhere near the same length she once had braided into two twin braids. She swings her leg back and forth, another pulled up to her chest while she watches him. And… her eyes. Ekko was the last person to see her with blue eyes before their battle on the bridge. The last time he saw Jinx alive, they were a dangerous, burning violet. 

Now, even with the shade of the night, they’re a muddy mix between the blue he once knew, and the piercing violet that made her so deadly. As if that restless edge in her has calmed down and settled. 

Ekko’s chest heaves as he stumbles back a step. 

“Soooo—” she begins.

“You’re alive.”

Jinx shrugs her shoulders. “Yup. Clearly. In the flesh even,” she crows, but it’s more muted when compared to the wildness he once faced off against. 

His hand flies to his stomach, and Ekko distantly wonders if he’s about to throw up in front of a girl he’s spent his entire life loving. 

Mercifully, his stomach settles, but his heart beats so loudly he can hear the blood rushing in his skull. 

“You’re alive,” he repeats, harder this time. “It’s been two years.”

“Yeah.”

She doesn’t offer more than that, but there’s a shadow over her narrow face. She’s healthier. There’s more weight on her bones, her skin has lost some of the pallidness. As if someone took Powder and Jinx, split them clean down the middle, and fused them into one body. Stronger, more self-reassured, less teetering on the brink. 

“Would have written but mail is crappy where I was,” she jokes, her voice a familiar, drawling litany. “Besides, this is so much more mysterious—”

He closes the distance between them in two steps. His room isn’t big but he would have walked, ran, sprinted if needed to close the distance between them. His arms wrap around her and Ekko squeezes her so tightly he hears a small breath escape Jinx. She’s solid and warm. Smells faintly of sea and something metallic. Ekko buries his face in the soft crook of Jinx’s neck, gasping for breath. 

“Woah, hero, you’re gonna break my ribs,” she whispers, but her arms wind around him, more careful, unsure. “I thought you hated me?”

Even when he releases her, Ekko’s hands linger on her, go to her face, examining her through the crack of light illuminating his room. 

“I saw you,” he breathes, devastated. “I saw you everywhere. I hoped to see you everywhere.”

Something flickers over her face, an unknown thing, secretive and distant as she’s always felt to him. 

“Geez, seeing things? And they call me crazy.”

“You’re not crazy.”

There’s such vehemence in his voice it startles them both. Jinx nibbles on her inner cheek, searching his face cautiously. “I thought you’d be mad.”

Ekko laughs, a low huff of amusement. “Do you think I care for you so little, huh?”

Too late he realises he’s without a shirt, and is, in fact, mostly bare before the girl he’s harboured a crush on for years. Near boyish shyness forces Ekko back, making him clear his throat. His hands tremble when he reaches for a discarded t-shirt, hoping it doesn’t smell bad when he pulls it over his head. When he glances at her over his shoulder, Jinx is still there, still watching him, though there’s a thoughtful air around her. 

When she notices him looking, she offers him a sarcastic grin.

“No need to get shy, stud.”

“Shut up,” he grumbles.

He plops down on his unmade bed, watching her watch him. Her face is half hidden by her arms propped on her bent knee, but the silence between them isn’t awkward. They’re taking each other in, taking in the changes that have touched them both in the last two years.

“Why come back now?” he asks, eventually. 

Jinx blinks, near feline-like, dropping her head back to stare at his ceiling as if it may offer an answer. “I’m a crappy friend, but not that crappy. Happy birthday, wonder boy.”

There’s a creak in his heart, a lightness in his ribcage, a balloon of affection despite their troubled history that inflates just for her. “You remember my birthday?”

She makes a sound at the back of her throat. Glances at him from the corner of her eye. “Well, we picked it together, silly, so sure I do.” Shadows fall over her features when she angles her head away. “I… I never thought I would come back—that it was better this way.”

“I’m glad you did.”

Something close to a smile ghosts over her face at his response. Ekko can’t rip his gaze away from her. He fears that if he does, he’ll wake up and she’ll be gone again, and he’ll have to relive the agony of losing her again. 

“Does Vi—”

“No. No. And it’s better this way.”

“But—”

“Drop it, Ekko. Please.”

He does. Because this is too good to be true, and he doesn’t want this to end. Emotions mix inside him, battling for dominance, so he sits there, letting them all wash over him. 

“You’ve been busy,” she says abruptly, nodding her head in the general direction of the outside world. “Their new wonder boy. I’m not surprised. You’ve always been good at creating things. Good things.”

“And you’ve always been good at fixing them,” he says. 

Ekko thinks back on the countless times she helped him to fix up old rubbish others have discarded and sell them in Benzo’s shop as small treasures. It feels, now, like a lifetime ago. In a sense, it has been. 

She snorts; it’s an ugly, hateful sound. “Not always.”

There’s weight to how she says it. Pain lingers in each syllable, more so a whispered confession. She’s thinking of others, those lost through accidents or her own direct involvement. 

“I’m sorry about Isha,” Ekko says carefully, thumb pressing into the hollow of his bare knee. He itches to take her hand, to smooth his thumb over her knuckles instead, but he doesn’t. She’s never been his to touch. “Vi told me about her.”

Jinx shrinks, turning away and he mentally curses. A sore spot even years later. Understandably so. 

“I… shit. Sorry.”

“What’s with the long face?” she exclaims suddenly, jumping to her feet and twirling. Her hands drop to her hips and she grins at him, all mischief. “C’mon, we gotta get out of here.”

Ekko squints. “Uh, what?”

“It’s your birthday, silly,” she says, like it should be obvious. “We’re going to spend the day together.”

.

Jinx keeps her hood up, her gait steady. Any sign of blue tucked away. She’s changed her attire to draw less attention, and as they walk in the hazy dawn light towards the bridge separating the sister cities, it feels almost normal. Casual. Not at all like the last time they spoke, they were about to fight side by side in a battle for their lives. Not at all like he spent two years thinking she’s dead. That still stings, but knowing how she felt back then, the state she was in before he talked her down from the edge, the pain she’s been through, Ekko can’t bring himself to feel resentful. He only wants to hold her and tell her it’ll be okay because she’s not alone. 

“You’re not saying, are you?” he asks, hands in his pockets. 

“Nope,” she replies, popping the p. “Can’t.”

Words rush to his tongue. Insistence that she can and should stay—that there’s space here for her, not just in his life, but in the new Zaun he’s helping to shape. He almost admits it to her then. That he’s built this for her and the ones they lost along the way. 

Ekko continues walking, staring at the ground, noticing too late she’s fallen behind. He peers over his shoulder and freezes when he notices what’s caught her attention. The mural. Welcoming anyone coming into Zaun. Her face, slightly younger but now immortalised, peers back at them. 

“You drew this.”

He loosens a breath. “Yeah, I did. I, uh, just…”

Jinx reaches for her own face, fingertips ghosting over the painted wall. There’s tension on her face when she turns to look at him, something piercing and hard and thoughtful. Same pinch to her eyebrows he saw earlier in his bedroom. 

“I won’t let them take you,” he says softly. “If they came for you. I would fight for you.”

She doesn’t break their eye contact. “I know. You shouldn’t, but I know you would.”

“Then stay.”

She saunters forward, stopping only when they’re almost chest to chest. “I’m not her, y’know? The other me. The one you love.”

He smiles, huffing a small breath, refocusing on her and her small pout. Ekko reaches forward, tucking a few stray strands back under Jinx’s hood, lingering for a beat. “I wasn’t her Ekko, either. That’s why I came back. I like this version of you just fine. But just so we’re clear, every version of you is a pain in my ass.” He tugs on a small braid, grinning when she shoots him an annoyed glare and slaps his hand away. “But I won’t have it any other way. Wait, no. It sure as hell would be simpler if you didn’t try to kill me anymore, but I guess I’ll deal with that, too.”

Jinx snorts, absently reaching for the spot he touched, her gaze softer than before. “Ha! You hit like a girl, by the way. I never got to tell you.”

“You tried to blow us up.”

“Eh,�� she whines. “That was one time. You gotta let that go.”

Ekko exhales a small laugh and realises he hasn’t smiled or laughed this much in years. Joy was leeched from him with her absence, and while he did his duties, there was no security of Jinx’s usual push and pull to keep him balanced and focused. Even when they were enemies, hunted each other down and attacked each other, they existed on opposite sides of a perfectly balanced sphere. 

Her nearness, the relief of having her there, overshadows the darker recollection of that afternoon when she tried to blow them up more than once. Memories so painful Ekko wishes to scrub them from his mind forever, yet they remain seared into his psyche. 

She grabs his elbow, dragging him forward, breaking the surrounding gloom. “Come on then,. Things to do, things to see.”

And Ekko does what he’s done since they were young. He follows her. Because they might not have tomorrow.

.

The day goes by too fast. Almost a blur. A series of snapshots Ekko will lock away in his mind forever. He never expected he’d get to do this again. This is something his younger self could have only dreamt about once. When they dreamt of simpler things; flashy toys and delicious sweets, things only a young boy could fantasise about, aside from a loving home, because at least that much he had. 

They walked and talked and joked around, eating street vendor food all day. Ekko knows they’re pushing their luck, but he can’t help himself. Jinx grew up here. This is her home too, and he wants to show her the progress they’ve made. There’s something comfortable about her snarky commentary and ill-timed jibes at the Council members. She asks about Vi only once, in relation to Cait, and Ekko tells her the truth. 

They’re happy. They’re together. She nods, satisfied, and moves on.

“We should go see Jericho next.” It’s an offhand suggestion while they walk the newly paved river path. Now people from the Undercity can enjoy the same luxury of having a peaceful sidewalk to take their kids down. It’s amazing how it’s the small things that bring people happiness. 

“Can’t,” Jinx replies, glancing towards the setting sun. Her smile twists; it’s still a smile, but it’s sad, in a way. “Sorry, hero.”

He takes several seconds to speak. “So, you’re leaving anyway.”

“Yes. I told you I can’t stay.”

“It’s a pity, then.”

She tilts her head. “Why?”

Damn her for even asking. Damn her and all the shitty circumstances for keeping them apart. Damn her for picking him during that game of hide and seek years ago. Damn her for being there for him and not being there at the same time. Damn her for being his entire world for years. Even when Ekko thought he hated her, he wasn’t free of her. He never could be. His girl with blue hair. 

He’s in love with her, in every possible way, but they both know they can’t work like this. There’s too many ghosts for Jinx here, and despite the changes, Ekko can’t promise her she won’t get dragged off to Stillwater the moment authorities find out she’s alive after all. 

Ekko frowns, clenches his fists, and walks away. 

But she’s like an anchor to him. He stops several paces away, tied to her. “You’re gonna break my heart.”

They’ve been everything from friends to enemies and strangers to reluctant allies again. So much of his life has revolved around her. Continues to revolve around her. Past and present. But if Jinx sends him away now, if she walks away, Ekko will let her go. Because he can finally rest easy, knowing she is alive and well, even if they’re apart.

“In any other universe, I might have loved you,” she breathes. 

He pivots towards her, his nostrils flaring. “Love me in this one,” he insists, reaching for her. Ekko cups her cheeks, tilting her head until her hood slips back down, exposing her blue hair to the setting sun. He’s glad there’s no one in sight because he can’t think straight right now. “Choose me now. Ask me to go away with you. Ask me.”

He presses his forehead to hers. Jinx’s empty gaze appears glazed over, her thoughts far away no matter how hard he tries to grip her and hold her close. 

“I don’t deserve you, boy saviour,” she whispers emptily. “You’re good.”

“No one decides for me, Jinx. Not even you.”

She blinks owlishly, searching his wild stare, a pained expression on her face, her fingers knotting against her chest. “What if you don’t want me after a while? I’m… different and if I get bad again... What if—”

“Ask me, damnit.”

Jinx loosens a shaky breath, jumping through a hundred micro-expressions in a few seconds. A painful mix between hope and dread. 

“C…” Her eyes squeeze shut. “Come with me.”

Ekko sags in relief. “Yes.” He holds her, wraps his arms around her despite the unsure way she folds against him. As if she’s unsure where to put her hands. If she should. “Yes, I’ll come with you. I don’t care if you’re different. I want you as you are, okay? No matter where we are.”

A tremulous breath wheezes past Jinx’s lips. But with that, she melts into him, burying her face against him. Her embrace grows desperate and tight, a tremble shuddering through her body. 

“Always a dance with you, huh?” he says after a moment.

She chuckles, the sound warming his collarbone. “And you still got two left feet, boy wonder.”

Constants and variables, young Ekko, Benzo told him once. Everything bad that can happen in this universe might come to pass, but so might everything good.

----

an: ahh I know this isn't really my usual offering but I really hope you guys enjoyed, it's been a while since i've cared enough about canon/canon ship to do this.

[traveler-at-heart]

Lessons of Love - Part 2

Part 2 of ??? idk, I don't even know what this is lol. Anyways,

Nerd!Nat and Fem!Rogers R.

It was a perfect Saturday evening. You were laying on the grass with Natasha, your heads close to each other as you peered through the leaves of a tree. 

For the past month, you had spent every weekend together. It was always something small, like going to the movies or ice cream, but it was nonetheless special. 

The picnic idea had been your best so far. It was just the two of you in the middle of the park, with a basket full of sandwiches, chips and soda. After eating while talking about your week, you decided to rest against the blanket and Natasha did the same. As usual, you gravitated towards each other, and when you were struggling to find a comfortable position, the redhead enveloped you in her arms, your head resting on her front.

“You’re very comfy” you muttered appreciatively, enjoying the way she smelled.

“Anytime” 

You laughed and straightened up for a second to kiss her neck in thanks. The way she blushed made you smile.

“By the way, I have something for you” going through the items left on the basket, you found an envelope and gave it to Natasha. She sat up, pulling two tickets.

“Our Place in Space? I thought the exhibit was opening in a month” 

“This is a special preview. And a talk by Erik Selvig”

“The astrophysicist? That Erik Selvig?” Natasha sat up, and you groaned, pulling her back to lay next to you.

“Yeah, thought you’d like that. Mark your calendar, it’s next Sunday”

“Yes! This is so cool! I can’t even begin to thank you”

“You can certainly try” you said, your hand forcing her to look away from the tickets and turn to meet your mouth. Natasha melted against your touch and this time, you let the kiss last a bit longer. You broke apart, breathing heavily. 

“That’s a good way to thank you” Natasha said in a daze, chasing your lips for more.

—

Natasha left you at the door of your home. 

“Did I thank you already?” she said as she opened the car door for you.

“Anything for my girl”  you sighed against her lips, making Natasha blush. It was your favorite thing in the world. “Drive safely and text me when you’re home”

When you walked in to the house, everything was peaceful. You were constantly out with friends, so your family didn’t notice anything strange. It was also the fact that you lived in a huge house, and it was only four of you -well, five, if you considered Bucky-. Either way, your dad was probably golfing and your mom was out with one of her friends. 

Before going back to your room, you walked to your brother’s, hoping he was home.

“Come in” he said, dropping the book he was reading and smiling as you leaned on the doorframe. “Why do you have leaves on your hair?” 

“Oh” you ran your fingers through your hair, hoping Steve wouldn’t notice you blushing. “Uh, I was at the park. But that’s not important. I wanted to ask you something” 

“What is it? Come on” he gestured for you to sit and you closed the door, playing with your hands as you avoided his eyes.

“Do you think Mom and Dad would be mad if I dated someone?” 

“Why? Are they a bad person?”

“No!” you turned to look at him. “Quite the opposite, she’s the most amazing, thoughtful and brilliant girl”

“Does she have tattoos?”

“No” you laughed, although the image of Natasha with tattoos was strangely alluring.

“And she doesn’t have a motorcycle?”

“She drives a Volvo. And she wears her seatbelt, makes me wear mine, never goes above the speed limit”

“There you go” he nudged your shoulder, knowing you weren’t saying everything.

“I just think… considering everything that happened during the summer… maybe they’d be overprotective or something. And I don’t want to be fighting about curfews or rules they’ll set. I might as well just tell them I’m going out and not say more than necessary”

“And if they find out the truth? That you’re dating someone but kept them in the dark? That’s only gonna make them distrust you. And it’s never been who you are” 

“Right. I’m just so happy and I don’t want anything to change.”

“It won’t” Steve said, his arm going around your shoulders. “And they love you, but you gotta be honest”

You nodded, knowing he was right. You hugged him. 

“So, you and Romanoff” 

“How did you…?” you broke apart, looking at him.

“Call it brother’s intuition. Congrats. She seems nice”

“She is” you agreed, standing up to leave. “I won’t interrupt you any longer” 

You were about to close the door when he called after you.

“You know what happened wasn’t your fault”

“It wasn’t yours either. And I wish Mom and Dod would understand” you said with a sad smile. Steve nodded, going back to his book.

You hope he’d believed your words.

—

Chemistry was your new favorite subject. It was a whole hour where you could sit next to Natasha, write little notes that she’d read over your shoulder and then watch her in full focus, her eyebrows furrowed as she completed each exercise.

Today, you were doing solutions with different concentrations. Natasha did all the math, only asking for the proper amounts to create each solution. You were happy to take the role of assistant.

“Hey, Nat?”

“Yes?”

“Are you a carbon sample? Because I want to date you” you said the pick up line with a cheeky smile, enjoying the way she was all flustered. 

“Uhm… good one” she chuckled, looking back at the flask. “I think we’re done. Should we call professor Fury?”

You turned to look at him, and noticed he was explaining some stuff to Wanda and Pietro. The rest of the class was still working, so you made the most of your little corner at the back of the room.

“In a minute. I guess I just want you to know… we should go back to my place and form a covalent bond” you whispered, kissing her. She groaned against your mouth, but you pulled away with a smile, turning to call professor Fury. “We’re done!”

Natasha had to force herself to focus on Fury’s review, asking you both questions about the exercise. She was grateful you took the lead, because all she could think about were your lips on hers.

You never kissed at school. Actually, you barely interacted when in class. Natasha wasn’t sure if it was a normal thing; to be fair, she had never dated anyone. 

As the class ended, you leaned on her side.

“You ok? Sorry, I was being a bit naughty. It won’t happen again” you promised, thinking she might be upset because you distracted her during class. 

“No, it’s not that.”

She didn’t really know what it was. Natasha wasn’t used to public displays of affection. She also wasn’t used to feeling all hot and bothered every time you were around and from time to time, she felt a tightness in her pants that was not new, but very much hard to control. 

“Well, see you later to complete the assignment?”

“My place. Yes” she nodded. You squeezed her arm, walking down the hall to your next lesson.

As for Natasha… well, she had to take a quick detour to the bathroom before Advanced Calculus.

—

The school parking lot was always a bit too loud as the day ended. Plenty of people hung around their cars, talking before leaving.

Natasha had a habit of parking away from everyone else, closer to the teacher’s area. As every Wednesday since she had joined the cheerleading team, Yelena stayed behind for practice so Natasha drove back home alone. 

This time, as she was leaving the school premises, she heard your laugh. Looking around, she found you next to Pietro and Steve, but what really caught her eye was the way Wanda was holding you. She had her hands around your waist, head resting on your shoulder as you leaned back on her front, still talking to Pietro.

A mix of jealousy and loneliness hit the girl. And it all clicked for her. You still had lunch with your friends and hung around after school. 

Maybe you were ashamed of Natasha. She looked away, walking to her car and throwing her bag in the passenger’s seat.

—

Your presence at the Romanoff residence was becoming frequent. This time, you arrived with Yelena.

The blonde went inside, still humming the song you used for practice. You knocked on Natasha’s door, eager to greet her. 

“Hey” you smiled, but immediately noticed she was upset. You kissed her cheek and sat on the bed, sighing. “What’s wrong, Natty?”

“Nothing” she said too fast for your liking.

“Nat” you asked. “Anything it is, just tell me. Please?”

“I… I saw you with Wanda”

“I’m always with Wanda, you’ll have to be more specific” you shook your head, confused.

“At the end of the day. The way she was holding you”

“Oh, that. She’s my best friend. And she likes boys. But I’m sorry if it made you feel jealous”

“It’s not just that” Natasha said, forcing herself to speak up. She had never been good at standing her ground. “We hang out here, or at the mall. Anywhere but school. And I’m just wondering if you’re… ashamed of me”

“Nat…” you stood up, reaching for her hand. The sad look on your face made Natasha regret her words instantly. She was about to apologize when you spoke. “I’m sorry, I assumed that you weren’t a fan of drawing attention. You know how people at school are, always gossiping. And we haven’t really talked about… are we dating or not? Don’t get me wrong, I’m dying to call you my girlfriend but I’m just not sure that you want to…”

Natasha stopped your rambling with her lips. You were grateful for the interruption, smiling into the kiss.

“I’ll take that as a yes”

“Yes” she nodded, her nose tickling you.

“Ok, then. We can figure this out little by little. And I’m really sorry for making you feel that way” 

“It’s ok”

“No, it’s not. Promise to always tell me when I screw up. I’ll make it right”

“You don’t have to” 

“There’s a new zombie movie” you offered, making Natasha laugh. “I’ll buy the popcorn too”

“How can I resist?” she agreed, hugging you and you relaxed in her arms.

—

“And then they threw her around, it was so cool” Yelena gave Natasha a summary of her practice on the way to school, even if she had already heard all about it during dinner last night.

“Are you still going to the start of the season?” Natasha asked, remembering the first game was this Friday.

“Yeah, to see how it’s done. Y/N is a great coach, too bad she didn’t want to be the captain anymore”

Natasha was quiet for the rest of the ride. You seemed fine with not being as involved with the cheerleading squad, but she still wondered why you’d quit so suddenly. 

Was this the kind of thing a girlfriend would ask? 

She was still thinking about it as she walked to the school entrance, Yelena finding her friends and saying goodbye with a wave of her hand. Natasha was so caught up in her thoughts, she didn’t notice you until you reached for her hand.

“Morning” you greeted.

“Hey”

“So, I’m not gonna kiss you because everyone’s here and I don’t want to overwhelm you. But… wanna have lunch with me later? We can eat outside, I know you hate the noise at the cafeteria”

“Yeah, I’d love that”

“And, would it be ok if Wanda and Pietro join us? So they can meet my girlfriend and see how awesome she is”

Natasha couldn’t help to smile at the word girlfriend. 

“Sounds nice” she agreed and you nodded, squeezing her hand before walking to your class.

There was a pleasant feeling in Natasha’s stomach as the two first periods went by. When the bell for lunch rang, you were already outside her classroom, waiting to walk together.

“Come on, I already got you food” you said, walking with a smile to a set of trees where you and the twins had lunch from time to time. 

“Hey, Maximoffs”, you greeted as soon as you sat, motioning for Natasha to take the spot next to you. “You know my girlfriend, Natasha”

Pietro whistled and Wanda laughed. 

“Now we know why she never hangs with us on the weekends” Wanda said, and Nat had a hard time figuring out if she was upset or not.

“Oh, speaks the girl who ignored us the entire summer over an English lad” you said in a bad accent and Pietro followed suit.

“Bloody true!” 

Wanda rolled her eyes but laughed.

“So, what are you two doing this weekend?” Wanda asked and you looked at Nat, encouraging her to answer.

“Well, there’s this new zombie movie…”

“Virus X! Take me with you!” Pietro interrupted.

“Fine. But no complaining when we kiss in the middle of the movie” you warned him. “Wands, wanna come too?”

“I think I’ll stay and study for Algebra. If I don’t hurry up, I’ll fail the class”

“Well, I could help with that” Natasha offered and you smiled.

“Baby, that’s a great idea” 

“Aww, baby” Pietro mocked and you threw a napkin at him. Natasha blushed and you kissed her cheek. 

“Don’t mind them. They’re evil”

“I will, however, take any help I can get to pass my test, so thanks Nat” 

Your girlfriend nodded, and began to ask questions about the subjects Wanda was studying. With a smile, you saw her interacting with your friends, knowing she was making a great first impression. Pretty soon, you imagined all of you hanging out; maybe Yelena would join too.

“You seem happy” Natasha commented as you walked back to class. 

“I am. Thanks for making me feel that way” you smiled, turning to enter the classroom. 

You didn’t need to look back to know Natasha was blushing and smiling at your words.

—

Friday finally came, and Yelena was a ball of energy as the Romanoff family drove to the first game of the season.

“This is nice” Melina commented as they got out of the car. “All of us here to support our coach and very talented cheerleader”

“I think Natalia is here for someone else” Yelena said and Natasha elbowed her. As usual, Alexei was oblivious to any exchange, going to meet the team for a review of their strategy for the game.

Yelena left as well to find the other girls, leaving Melina and Natasha at the bleachers, looking for a spot to sit. Natasha was able to spot you, walking out next to Yelena, smiling at her excitement. You looked up, eyes meeting hers briefly and smiled.

“I’m so happy Y/N is mentoring Yelena. She’s a great girl” Melina said, not missing the eye contact.

“Yeah. It doesn’t hurt to have someone babysitting Yelena at all times”

Melina laughed at that. For the rest of the night, you tried to focus on the action happening at the field, but could tell Natasha was staring from time to time. Though Nat and Melina didn’t understand much of sports, the way Alexei screamed confirmed Shield High had won the game. 

Yelena joined the family in the parking lot.

“Did you see me throw that pom pom? It was so high!”

“Congrats, malyshka” Alexei said, hugging his daughter.

“Thanks, Papa. Also, you stink a little”

“Well, let’s all go so your father can shower” Melina gave Natasha the keys to the car.

“Mama, there’s a party, can I go? Tomorrow’s Saturday, I can stay up a little later, right?”

“I have meetings tomorrow and your father’s too tired to drive you, Yelena. Maybe other time, yes?”

“Ok, I guess I’ll tell Y/N we won’t make it, Nat” Yelena casually mentioned your name, knowing what it would cause.

“I’ll drive us” Natasha blurted out. 

“Great! It’s settled, then!”

The girls sprinted to the car, while their parents stayed behind.

“Natasha going to a party? Our Natalia?” Alexei scratched the back of his head. “What do you think is that about?”

“I have a theory. Don’t worry too much about it, my darling” Melina said, patting his back. 

—

There was around twenty people at your house by the time Natasha and Yelena came inside. Everyone was gathered around the pool, away from the main house. Yelena greeted a girl that was new in town, Kate Bishop, and left her sister alone. Thankfully, you spotted her across the yard and went straight to her.

“I’m surprised you wanted to come!” you greeted your girlfriend, pulling her by the arm to walk with you.

“I thought you told Yelena to invite me”

“No, I told her we could go out for dinner because it’s gonna be too loud here. My message was not delivered, huh?” you rolled your eyes. “We can go to my room if you don’t like it here”

“It’s fine” Natasha said, more to herself than to you. This was the first high school party she had ever attended. The football team was here, with some other girls from senior year and your brother. She didn’t know anyone but you, but she had to try and be social, at least for once.

“Pepper’s here, she needs some help with the food. I’ll be right back” you promised, leaning to kiss her cheek.

Natasha sat in one of the chairs by the pool, trying to keep her anxiety at bay. Maybe she’d take you up on that offer and go to your room instead.

“Hey” a guy greeted her. He had black hair and a permanent frown. “I don’t think I’ve seen you at one of our parties before. I’m Rumlow”

“Oh, I’m here with Y/N” 

“You must be quite the party animal yourself, huh?” the boy smiled, but Natasha stared, confused. “Oh, come on. You know Y/N. She loves to play drinking games, stay up until late… says people who don’t even drink beer are boring”

That didn’t sound like her girlfriend at all, but the look that Rumlow gave her was making her uncomfortable, and she didn’t feel like calling him out on his bullshit.

“Here. Have a drink”

“No, I’m good” 

“Come on. She’ll think you’re boring if you don’t” he warned her. Natasha sighed, taking the cup. It smelled worse than the vodka his father brought back from Russia. “Just drink it all. It will taste better that way”

Natasha took a deep breath, and then a giant gulp of the liquid. It burned her throat, making her cough. Rumlow laughed, his hand squeezing Nat’s shoulder a bit too harsh and walking away.

The girl felt the need to throw up, pee or pass out and wondered what would happen first. The only thing that brought her back to reality was your hand on her cheek.

“Baby? Nat, are you ok?”

“Fine” she answered, her breath alerting you of what happened. Shit.

“Steve” you searched for your brother. He was next to you in an instant. “Who gave her alcohol? We’re not supposed to have any, you know the rules”

“I don’t know” Steve said, taking Natasha’s hands. “Let’s give her some water, she’ll feel fine soon, ok?”

Across the yard, you heard Rumlow laughing. You always hated him; hell, most of the school did, and his mocking words only made your blood boil.

“Careful, looks like she’s gonna piss herself” 

“What did you do to my girlfriend, you asshole?” you walked up to him. Steve went after you, knowing you were too impulsive when provoked by guys like him.

“Girlfriend? Seriously, that loser? Can’t even hold the shot I gave her” 

“I’m gonna kill you” you threw a punch, just like Bucky had taught you. It landed square in his nose, making it bleed.

“You bitch” he didn’t get to you, because Bucky and Steve blocked his path, pushing him all the way to the front door. 

“Never come back, asshole” Bucky warned him. “The rest of you, party is over”

Ignoring the pain in your knuckles, you went to sit next to Natasha, offering her a glass of water. She drank from it, sighing when her head stopped spinning.

“I’m sorry” 

“Don’t be. He’s an idiot. And I’ve wanted to punch him in the face for a long time now”

“Speaking of which…” your brother offered you a pack of ice. “Here. Nice punch, sis. Maybe you can be a boxer now”

“Pass” you smiled, placing the ice against the bruised skin. Yelena brought Nat another glass of water and after half an hour, you could tell she was a lot better. “Let’s get you home, ok? Or maybe you both can stay here and I’ll keep an eye on Nat”

“No, our parents will know something’s up. I’ll stay with her and text you if anything happens”

You nodded, pulling Nat with you. Bucky drove Natasha’s car, Steve following behind on Bucky’s car so you three could go back home. The ride was silent, your hand squeezing Nat’s as she enjoyed the night air. By the time they reached the Romanoff house, she was completely awake and only a bit nauseous.

“Come on, sestra” Yelena grabbed her gently by the arm, making sure they didn’t wake their parents as they went up the stairs.

You stayed on the front door until the lights went out again, feeling like the worst person in the world. Defeated, you climbed to the passenger seat, Bucky driving back to your home.

“Y/N”

“Bucky, don’t”

“It’s not your fault”

“Natasha’s the most amazing person I’ve ever met and yet, it seems like I’m always making her feel insecure or like she’s not enough. Maybe I’m just not good for her”

“Hey, this is all on Rumlow being an ass, ok? Don’t beat yourself up for it” Steve said, his arm on your shoulder.

“Yeah. The beating you gave him was enough for a day” Bucky said and the three of you laughed.

“Thank you for stepping in”

“Yeah, he’d be dead if we hadn’t” Steve said, sure that you wouldn’t let Rumlow go without a fight.

—

Pain. Confusion. Too much light. And noise. 

Natasha felt all of those things as she struggled to open her eyes. She groaned, turning to look around. This was Yelena’s room.

“Oh, good. You’re up” her sister walked in, holding a glass of water. Natasha took it, drinking the entire thing. “I’ll text Y/N. I don’t think she slept at all, asking me every hour to check on you” 

“I’m never drinking, or standing near a bottle of wine again in my life” 

“How much do you remember?” 

“Enough to feel like an idiot. Was Y/N upset?”

“Well, yes. She punched that dude right in the face. It was awesome”

“I mean… at me” Natasha sighed, feeling like she had screwed everything up.

“Why would she be mad at you, Nat?” Yelena’s phone pinged again, and she showed the message to her sister. “See? She’s asking if you need anything and if she can come over” 

“I better shower. Thank you, sestra”

 Yelena nodded, looking tired and ready to sleep for the next few hours. Natasha took advantage of the fact she had the bathroom to herself, enjoying a warm shower. By the time she came out, her mind was clear and she was eager to see you. Natasha felt the need to apologize.

“Coming” she said as soon as the doorbell rang. “Hi”

“Hey, baby. How are you feeling?” you said, smiling at her. You cradled her head in your hands, massaging her temples. “You had me worried sick”

“I’m sorry” she said, melting against your touch.

“Don’t be. Here. I brought you something light to eat. And some painkillers in case you’re out” 

“Thank you” she took your hand, leading you to the kitchen. “Dad’s out and Mom’s working” she explained, pulling out two plates to share the food.

“That’s ok, I’m not hungry” you declined with a tense smile.

“Is everything ok?” she reached for your hand and you hissed at the contact. Laughing, you showed her your bruised knuckles.

“Guess I punched him too hard”

“Did you get checked by a doctor? Are you ok?” Natasha leaned forward, looking concerned.

“My dad said it’s fine. Mom was a bit upset, but Steve convinced them Rumlow had it coming” 

“I got you into trouble, I’m sorry” Natasha shook her head. What the hell was she thinking?

“Hey, that’s not true… I’m the one who’s sorry. I feel like I’m always making you do things you’re not comfortable with and I hate it, Nat. You’re all I care about, but I feel like I’m screwing up and hurting you in the process”

“I just know you’re used to hanging around a lot of people from school and don’t want you to give that up for me, ya know?”

“I kinda have to be social because Steve and Bucky love to throw parties. I’d rather watch movies with you or literally anything else, Nat”

“Really?”

You nodded, closing the distance between you too. Your lips met in a short and sweet kiss, and you felt her smiling against your mouth.

“I do have something to tell you… about a thing that happened this summer” you rolled up the sleeve of your shirt, showing a big scar on your arm, close to your elbow. It looked fairly recent. “So, you know how we go to the Hamptons at the start of the summer, right? And there’s always the usual people. One of them is this jerk, Tony Stark. He’s always messing with us because his parents barely spend time with him”

“Did he hurt you?” Natasha asked, squeezing your hand.

“Well, they were playing tennis and made a bet. If he won, Steve would have to give him his car for the day. And I’d have to tag along. Steve said no, but I was just so annoyed at Stark for always getting on my nerves that I agreed. Except I forgot Steve is a really bad tennis player” you laughed, Natasha smiling, but waiting for you to continue. “So, we drove around for a while. And at some point he thought it would be funny to go on a different lane and just drive like a complete idiot. I really did ask him to stop, but Stark wouldn’t listen and then… we got into an accident”

“That’s how you got this scar”

“Yeah, I broke my arm and hurt my spine, which is why I had to step down from the cheerleading team. And I had thought about it before, but I guess it’s different when you decide it by yourself, instead of being forced by circumstances… My parents were pissed at Steve, Stark got in massive trouble as well and I don’t know, being with you was the one good thing I’ve had in a long time. But I feel responsible and like I was an idiot and yesterday I got so scared you’d get hurt because of me” 

“I’m fine” Natasha promised, searching for your eyes. “I’m here, nothing happened”

“Maybe I’m not good enough for you, Nat; you’re always so kind and thoughtful. I’d hate myself even more if something happened to you” 

“It won’t, ok? From now on, it’s us. And maybe some time Yelena”

“And Pietro and Wanda” you said, smiling.

“Thank you for telling me about what happened”

“I trust you. And you should know that my parents are a bit protective right now so when I tell them we’re dating, they might want to interrogate you… and take you for a driving test as well”

“Anything” she promised. You leaned forward to kiss her again. This time, you deepened the kiss, running your hands through her hair. “I love it when you do that” she mumbled against your lips.

“Do what? This?” you teased, running your tongue along her lower lip, feeling her moan against your mouth. 

“We eat there!” Yelena stormed in, groaning. “Get a room. Yours is literally upstairs” 

“Yelena, where are your manners?” Melina said, joining the three of you. Your eyes widened, surprised to see Mrs Romanoff. 

“Babe, I thought you said your mom was working?”

“She was”

“And now I’m home. Let’s have a talk in my study. Natalia, Y/N?”

“Good luck” Yelena blurted out, escaping to hide in her room. You grimaced, looking between your girlfriend and her mother. 

Well, time to come clean. 

[supernovafics]

series masterlist | last part — next part

pairing: modern!college!steve harrington x fem!reader, bestfriend!eddie munson x fem!reader

word count: 5.3k words

warnings: explicit language, a bunch of other good things that i don’t wanna say because i don’t want to completely spoil everything<333

summary: an unexpected conversation between you and steve leads to a long overdue realization 

quick a/n: a bit nervous to post this one lol but i hope yall enjoy🫶🏾

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN | ❝𝒎𝒂𝒚𝒃𝒆 𝒘𝒆 𝒈𝒐𝒕 𝒊𝒕 𝒓𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕❞

Summer 2017

“I’m a little upset that I didn’t get the grand hometown tour.”

“You mean the tour of the old library that I spent probably too much time at back in high school, and the park that I also really liked back in high school, but it’s currently under construction?”

Eddie gave you an amused smile. “Yes, exactly that.”

“Next time,” You told him, completely joking with your words, but you wouldn’t have been surprised if he actually held you to them the next time he was here. But, you honestly didn’t think that there’d be another moment when he was in your hometown; this moment in itself felt almost like a fluke.  

After a five week long road trip with Eddie, you still weren’t ready to be home— you dreaded it, actually— but things had started getting too expensive and Eddie’s van was in dire need of a break. 

You did most of the driving to your hometown because you knew that Eddie would have to do all of the driving alone back to his own home. And then he stayed with you for the night at your dad’s house. You didn’t even have to do any sort of introduction between the two because your dad was off on a vacation with his new girlfriend.

Now it was the morning and you two lingered by Eddie’s van, prolonging the conversation because the next time you’d see each other would be a little over four weeks— when you moved into your apartment with Robin, Vickie, and Talia, and he moved in with two people that he found at the last second; luckily, your respective buildings weren’t far from each other, so it wouldn’t feel impossible to see each other. 

You pulled Eddie in for a hug, a long one that felt so equivalent to a goodbye and it actually managed to sadden you a bit because of how good the last five weeks had been and it sucked that it was all over now. 

When you pulled back, you gave him a smile. “See you in four weeks, Edward.”

He laughed a little. “See ya.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

Spring Semester 2018

Maybe things should’ve felt at least a little weird or awkward between you and Steve in this moment in the library— it had been a month since the last time you two talked— but it didn’t. At all. 

It was all so surprisingly easy. The small talk wasn’t even unbearable; you liked hearing about the mundane things he’d been up to for the past month and you didn’t mind sharing your own stories about classes you’d come to hate and how you didn’t feel all too prepared for finals because you had more essays to do than actual tests. And then you two moved into random bits of nothing, asking the first thing you could think of or filling the silence with storytimes or quick anecdotes, and whispering the entire time so that you didn’t disturb everyone else in the library right then. 

You two probably should’ve moved somewhere else, but it felt as if the entire moment would’ve been broken if you did so. Logical thinking would’ve sunk in on your side of things and you would’ve realized that all of this was a bad idea and you should’ve left, or perhaps never sat down across from him on this carpeted floor in the first place.

“Did you decide what you’re going to do with your summer of freedom?” You asked him instead of leaving or even thinking about doing so. You were mainly joking with your question and just trying to think of something to say, but still, you were a little curious. 

“I think I’m gonna do the Europe thing. Go alone,” He told you. “It’s loosely planned right now, but I’ll fully figure it out after finals.”

“Ooh, that’s very Eat, Pray, Love of you,” You joked. 

He laughed a bit. “Thanks, I think?”

“I’ve actually never seen that movie before, but from what I think I know of it, it felt fitting to mention it.”

“Do you know what you’re gonna do for the summer?”

“Nothing exciting, really,” You answered with a quick shrug. “I think I’m just gonna stay around here. Robin and Vickie are doing some summer classes, and even though I’m not taking any, staying in the apartment for the summer sounds much better than going home the entire time.”

Steve nodded. “With what you’ve said about your parents, that makes sense.”

“Exactly,” You nodded back. “So, if you get bored of Europe— which I highly doubt, but still— please feel free to come to any of our apartment movie nights and sleep on our couch at any point during the summer.”

You realized way too late what exactly your words implied— that you two were friends, that this moment in the library wasn’t and shouldn’t be a one-off thing. And your brain was quickly rushing you to fix what you said. “Or, I guess, that wouldn’t really make sense since we’re not friends or whatever…”

You could recognize that it was a pretty shitty attempt at backtracking, but all Steve needed to do was simply agree and everything would be fine; or, at least, what you’d convinced yourself was considered as “fine.”

“That ‘going our separate ways’ rule was so dumb,” Steve said instead of agreeing with your previous statement. “We should be friends.”

He was completely right, the rule was dumb. But still, even in this entirely comfortable moment, you knew that you couldn’t say what he wanted to hear. 

“I’ve missed this,” He continued on before you could say anything in response. He lightly bumped his knee with yours. “I’ve missed you.” 

“I’ve missed you too,” You blurted it out before you realized what you were even saying, and you didn’t know how true it was until those four simple words were out in the open and sitting in the quiet air between you and Steve. 

They abruptly made you inwardly admit everything else that you’d been avoiding and refusing to accept— the almost too obvious reason why you couldn’t be friends with him and why you had refused to break the rule this entire past month.  

You’d never be able to be just friends with him. You’d start feeling something more and head down an all too familiar path, another Eddie situation that you weren’t sure if you’d be able to take and not have it break you this time around. Falling for a friend who saw you as nothing more than solely as a friend already sucked once, and you couldn’t imagine letting history repeat itself. 

That was why you couldn’t try to do it; you couldn’t try to be normal and keep things as they were between you and Steve. If you two hadn’t gone your “separate ways,” you were certain that you would’ve ended up liking him, inadvertently feeling more for him than what you wanted to.

However, you were realizing now that the joke was actually on you because it still happened anyway. 

You liked him a lot. And maybe some part of you always did. But, you knew that you’d never be able to do anything about it. 

You were right on one thing, though— this entire moment was a bad idea. 

Before you could come up with some random excuse to leave, the sound of Steve’s phone vibrating next to him saved you instead. He grabbed it, looking down at whatever message he just got and then back at you. 

“I gotta go. I’m late for this study group thing,” He said. “But, I'm not gonna be an idiot right now and once again say that we should go our separate ways. It’s set in stone now— we’re friends.”

“Okay,” You nodded, not meaning in the slightest.

“You should come over tomorrow. We can watch that one Lindsay Lohan movie that you like and I promise I won’t complain about it.”

“It’s called Freaky Friday. And yeah, okay, that sounds good.”

Right then it was easier to lie than to refuse his statement and make up a different lie about why you couldn’t hang out with him, why you couldn’t ever hang out with him. 

Steve gave you one final smile before he stood up. You watched him head down the aisle and then turn the corner before you let yourself lean back against the bookshelf and shut your eyes with a sigh. 

Now that you finally admitted to yourself how you felt for him, it was as if the dam broke and all you could think about was how real the entirety of the fake dating thing had been for you— during the power outage where you actually got to know him, during that night where you two spent Valentine’s together at that arcade and pizza place, during everything that happened in Mexico. It was suddenly so obvious, and you were also reminded of that moment during the delayed flight when the realization first hit you. 

How different would things be if you had actually accepted it back then? You honestly couldn’t imagine. 

Another long sigh fell from your lips as you pulled your legs out of the aisle and crossed them under you.

You really didn’t want to like Steve, and a part of you wanted to try and convince yourself that it wasn’t true; just like you’d done before. But, this time around was so much different. The feelings already felt so settled and certain; you couldn’t even push them away. 

And that only made things feel worse because avoidance was your main coping mechanism. So if you couldn’t push away and forget your feelings for Steve, what the hell were you going to do instead? 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

It was hours upon hours full of contradictory thoughts. One part of you was telling you to be honest and the other was saying the exact opposite, and at first, you had no idea which side to listen to. You wanted to take the easy way out, but there was something about that that didn't sit right with you. Still, though, you considered it.

More time slowly passed, your head in a constant push and pull, and then it was nearing midnight when you decided to call Steve. It was an impulsive decision that, once you were settled on it, surprisingly felt like the right one. 

You sat up in your bed and grabbed your phone off of your nightstand. You could hear the faint sounds of Talia doing something in the kitchen through your shut door, but you knew that it wasn’t her that was keeping you awake since you got in bed twenty minutes ago. Instead, it was your scattered thoughts and confused mind, both of which somehow suddenly felt a thousand percent certain about one thing, which should’ve felt comforting but it actually felt like the opposite. 

You pressed call on Steve’s contact name before you could talk yourself out of it. 

“Hey,” His voice sounded sleepy when he answered after the third ring, which let you know that you’d woken him up. A part of you felt bad, and you wanted to hang up after saying the quickest “Sorry” to him, but then you remembered why you were calling. 

“I can’t be friends with you,” You blurted it out, getting straight to the point because you couldn’t think of a different way to say it.  

“Oh…” He sounded confused, and rightfully so, you could recognize that this was probably the weirdest wake-up call ever. “Oh, okay.”

You could’ve simply ended it there and let the phone call be done with, no further explanation or anything so that you could save yourself from potential embarrassment. However, the whole Eddie situation taught you to be honest about how you’re feeling, and in this moment you suddenly felt so settled on doing so. 

“At least, I can't try to be your friend without telling you something first, I think,” You told him. “And I’m sorry, I know this probably sounds so random, but I can’t sleep because all I’ve been doing for the past few hours is thinking about this, so I think I just need to be honest right now.” 

You paused for a second, taking the quickest breath before speaking. “When we started the fake dating thing, we were pretty much strangers, and as it continued I thought that what we ended up forming was solely just some sort of unexpected friendship. And then when we were ending things, I convinced myself that what we had was actually absolutely nothing and we were just two people helping each other out. But then today at the library I realized that it really wasn’t fake for me, and it wasn’t just a friendship either. It’s so much more than that for me. I like you, Steve.” 

Out of everything you had just said, those last four words were definitely the hardest. It felt simultaneously good and bad. So honest that your initial instinct was telling you to take it back, but as the statement settled in the air, you felt entirely okay about it and it made it feel easier to continue talking. 

“And I know that it's probably not the same for you because you don’t do relationships and that was the whole point of the fake dating thing for you. I know that. And that's why I refused to accept these feelings or even admit them to myself in the first place.” You let your head fall back against your pillow and you squeezed your eyes shut as you forced yourself to keep going. “So I know that you’re probably gonna say that you don’t feel the same way and that’s okay; or it’ll eventually be okay, I guess, because rejection does suck. But this whole Eddie thing made me realize that maybe I should just be honest about my feelings, so this is me doing that…” You trailed off and then softly said, “Okay, sorry, I’m done talking now.”

Steve was quiet for a bit— it was actually a lot more than just a bit. It was so long that it made you think that he hung up or the call somehow ended, but then he was saying something.

“You should come to Europe with me this summer.”

That was not at all the response you were expecting to hear at that moment, and you had no idea what that response meant. Was it just a nice way of rejecting you or did he maybe feel the same way? 

“What?”

“I’m sorry,” He said and somehow you could almost hear him shaking his head at himself. “I’m not used to doing this anymore.”

There was something about the way he said his statement that made you think that he was rejecting you, or at least trying to. And because of that, you quickly tried to make everything fine and okay and normal. “It’s, um... It’s okay if you don’t feel the same. Things will be okay with us. We can still be, uh, friends or whatever.”

“No, no that’s not what I meant,” He told you, and you could feel your heart fill with something that resembled hope. “I do. I do feel the same way. None of it was fake for me either, and it didn’t take me that long after Mexico and the rest of spring break to finally realize that. The night we “broke up” was actually pretty hard, and it also felt kind of wrong, if that makes sense. I tried to forget about it, though, because of the Eddie part of all of this and what we both agreed on at the beginning of everything.”

“When I finally accepted it today, I tried to push it all away too,” You said. “It was really hard to do, though— literally impossible, actually. Hence why I woke you up and had to tell you all of this in the middle of the night.”

“I get it. I’m just way too likable.”

“Shut up,” You said, but you were smiling.  

“It’s the same for you too, though. You’re also really likable. I like you a lot,” Steve told you, and his words sounded so certain and honest that it made your heart do a weird fluttery thing that also wiped your brain of the ability to form any sort of coherent sentence. He then let out the quickest breath of a laugh. “It feels so weird doing this over the phone.”

You nodded even though he couldn’t see you and your next words came out with no hesitation. “You should come over.”

He was quiet just for a second before he said, “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” You answered, voice just as soft and quiet as his. 

“Okay,” He said, and you could practically hear him nodding. 

“Okay, cool,” You responded, trying to be normal and chill about everything, even though your heart felt as if it was about to burst out of your chest in nervous but excited anticipation of seeing him again and talking about everything in person. “See you soon then.”

When the call ended, you simply didn’t do anything for a moment. The same happy smile was on your face and you couldn’t seem to wipe it away, and you honestly didn’t even want to. 

And then you were abruptly thinking about what you were wearing and wondering if it was okay. But, was there even any point in changing out of your slightly wrinkled t-shirt and pajama shorts?

You weren’t entirely sure, but you still got up from your bed and turned on your light, and then headed toward your closet. 

You were halfheartedly picking through your clothes and making mental comments about everything— a dress felt like overkill and putting on jeans would be too annoying— when something hit you on the head and made you yelp. You looked down and saw that it was Hartford; he had previously been sitting on the shelf above your clothes. You picked him up and placed him back on your desk— his rightful place, you decided. 

You also decided that what you were wearing was fine. It obviously made sense for the middle of the night and you’d only feel severely underdressed if Steve showed up wearing a suit, which sounded completely ridiculous. 

The abrupt sound of something crashing in the kitchen pulled you out of your head and you left your room to make sure Talia was fine. You didn’t immediately see her when you looked over at the kitchen, but when you said, “Everything okay?” her head popped up from behind the counter. 

“Yeah, I’m good. Shit, sorry, did I wake you up?” She asked and then sighed. “The mixer was hidden behind a thousand other things, so when I pulled it out, some pans fell.”

You could hear her fixing the pans and then she stood up.

“No, I was already awake,” You answered as you walked toward her. It was way too hard to not let yourself smile as you said your next words. “Steve’s, um, Steve’s coming over.”

She stopped in the middle of looking for something in the fridge and instead turned to you, the happiest smile on her face. “Oh my god, finally! I’ve been waiting for this moment ever since you got back from that date with Adam. I could just tell there was something so different about you and Steve.”

You shook your head as you laughed a bit. “You couldn’t have known about how I felt about Steve then. I barely knew.”

“Of course, I knew. I’m a Psych major for a reason,” She told you, which only made you laugh again. “But, I obviously wasn’t gonna tell you. You had to get there on your own. I’m so glad it didn’t take months, though, and I actually get to see this happen before I graduate and leave.”

You playfully rolled your eyes at her and then shifted the subject. “What are you making?”

“I’m kinda still deciding. It’ll either be a two-layered cake, cupcakes, or this tart recipe that I just saw,” She shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m just trying to do anything to take my mind off this one final that I’ve been studying for all day.”

That made sense to you. Last semester during the week leading up to finals, she made a fresh batch of cookies every night.

“Maybe I’ll do a cake,” She said, a small teasing smile on her face. “A celebratory one for you and Steve. I’ll frost it white and write ‘Congrats, Lovebirds’ on it in red. Shit, I hope there’s still food coloring left.”

You immediately shook your head. “Please don’t do that. Before when things were fake, you guys couldn’t scare him off, now it definitely could happen.”

“Fine, I’ll just make a completely normal white cake that has absolutely nothing to do with you and Steve. But, deep down, both you and I know the truth.”

You couldn’t help but laugh a little. “Thank you.”

She finished grabbing the eggs from the fridge and you headed to the couch, knowing that she liked working alone in the kitchen. A part of you wanted to turn on the TV, but you weren’t in the mood to put on a movie or anything.

You heard Talia hum to herself as she started measuring flour and sugar and then cracking eggs. 

It was calming to see her completely in her element with her thoughts focused solely on one thing. Your thoughts didn’t have something specific to focus on, so they instead focused on Steve. Him and you and you two together. Well, together, but not really because nothing was settled yet. So, right now, in this moment, you two were just friends. Or was that not even an accurate description either? 

“Get out of your head.”

You looked over at Talia, wondering how long she’d been watching you and seeing you starting to inwardly spiral. “How could you tell?”

“Once again, Psych major for a reason,” She said, giving you a small smile. “Stop thinking so hard about everything right now. It’s all gonna be great when he gets here. Hey, just tell me a story. A random one. First thing that comes to you.” 

You thought for a second and then went with the first thing that came to your mind just like Talia said; a quick story about a summer camp that you went to when you were ten. It was almost too easy to think of things to talk about involving the month-long sleep away camps or short stints at super niche-specific camps that your parents found for you. 

The knock on the door came when you were in the middle of telling Talia about a different summer, a theater camp you were forced to go to for two weeks when you were twelve. 

You quickly got to the end of the story as you walked over to the door. “Long story short, the whole show was canceled due to the pregnancy rumor.” 

Talia shook her head in disbelief. “No way.”

“Yeah, it was insane. Spoiler alert, though, she wasn’t pregnant. Thank god. But, that was when I learned how ruthless theater kids are.” 

You pulled the door open after letting out a soft laugh at Talia sighing and saying, “Children are evil.” 

You wanted to be normal about seeing Steve standing in front of you right then— really, you did— but it was too hard to. He was sporting messy bedhead, sweatpants, and a t-shirt that matched yours with how wrinkled it was. It looked as if he had rushed to get here, which was actually true given the fact that he managed to turn a typical thirty-minute drive into twenty minutes.

“Hi,” You said, a fresh wave of giddiness hitting you immediately and it was hard to contain the smile tugging at your lips. 

He didn’t hesitate to match it. “Hey.”

You both simply smiled at each other like idiots for a few moments. Talia was right.  

The sound of the oven beeping followed by Talia saying, “How long it takes for the oven to preheat is the one thing that I’m really not gonna miss about this place,” seemed to pull you both out of your lovestruck trance.  

“Hi, sorry, come in,” You said to Steve, pushing the door open further so that he could step inside and then you closed it behind him. “Talia’s baking a cake.”

“A completely normal cake,” She told him and you immediately gave her a look. “Anyway, nice to see you again, Steven.”

“You, too,” He said. “What makes it normal?” 

“Nothing. Please ignore what she just said,” You told him, and then didn’t think too much as you grabbed his hand and led him toward your room. You didn’t realize what you’d done until your door was shut behind you both and your hand was still holding his— it didn’t feel entirely wrong, though. 

You noticed him look at your desk. “You still have Hartford.”

You let go of his hand as you went over to grab the small bear. “Of course, I do. I hope you still have Bowie.” 

“Of course,” He said, smiling and matching your certain tone. 

“Thinking about it now, I feel like that whole Valentine’s night should’ve sealed the deal for me. It was literally a date,” You said, letting out a laugh as you placed Hartford back down on your desk.

Thinking back to Valentine’s Day also made you abruptly remember that that was also the night he told you about him not wanting anything serious and finally explaining the “why” behind it too. And it was then that you realized that just because he had feelings for you didn’t necessarily mean that his mindset on relationships had changed too. 

You were rushing to continue and verbalize that before Steve could say anything. “And I completely get it if all of this doesn’t really change anything. Because none of this means that how you view love and relationships has changed. Not saying that you love me or anything but–”

He cut off your rambling with a head shake. “Hey, no, this is so different. I want everything with you.” It was hard not to become shy under his gaze, especially as he said those words, but you still refused to look away from him as he kept talking. 

“You kind of changed it all for me. I was scared of it before, I think— of doing anything serious and letting anyone in because I just assumed that I’d end up getting heartbroken again. But, with you, it never really felt like that; scary or anything. I think that when we were stuck at my place during the power outage and just talking, deep down I knew that things with you were gonna be different or already were; it didn’t feel weird or scary getting deep with you or letting you in. Same thing with that night in Mexico when we were eating cereal and talking about all of that serious stuff. It took a while for me to actually admit what all of those things meant, though.”

Hearing him say that made you think about when he proposed the fake dating thing, when he said that guys are dumb and it takes them a while to realize things. Thinking about those words now made you smile. 

“Guys are stupid,” You said. “You’re the one that told me that.” 

Steve nodded, laughing a little. “We are. That’s still very true.”

“I was also stupid. I avoided everything for a long time too.”

“Glad to know we’re both idiots then,” He said, which made you smile wider. 

For a second, nothing else was said; it honestly felt as if nothing else really needed to be said right then. You weren’t sure if it was you or him that closed most of the distance between you two— perhaps it was both of you. Either way, a silent agreement to push things further was made as your arms came up to loosely circle his neck and his hands found your waist. 

It was you who didn’t waste a second to turn that final bit of space between you into nothing. You leaned in slowly, though, nose brushing against his before softly finding his lips. 

It was simply just a peck at first, a chaste kiss just to test the waters and define this moment as different from the other few times that this had happened. You both knew that this was entirely different. It wasn’t good but confusing like during the blind date, and it wasn’t for show like the times in Mexico. This first kiss was right, and as simple and brief as it was, it felt damn near perfect.  

When you pulled away after just a second, Steve didn’t hesitate to lean right back in, quickly letting his mouth find yours again. One of his hands left your waist and came up to cup your cheek instead. That soft touch grounded you, it kept you steady and it also did something to your heart; made it start thumping wildly in your chest.

There was no part of you that wanted this moment to end, you wanted to live in it for as long as you could and memorize every single part of it. The way your fingers so easily found home in the hair at the nape of his neck. His warm hand on your waist that you could practically feel through your t-shirt. How it was almost like a dance happening as Steve guided you back against your shut door, pressing you against it, and you used that as the opportunity to pull him impossibly closer to you. 

It didn’t take long for you two to end up in your bed; you quickly became too tired of standing and the doorknob poking into your side became too uncomfortable. 

Your legs were on either side of his lap and he was leaning back against the headboard, pulling you toward him. It felt like you were two teenagers who had just discovered what making out was. And it also felt as if you both were in agreement about feeling like you two had wasted so much time not kissing over the last month of not talking to each other and since you two met that you were trying to make up for all of that lost time. 

When you pulled away to catch your breath, Steve’s lips found your neck, and your eyes immediately slipped shut.

“I meant what I said before,” He mumbled against your skin, but you heard him clearly. 

Your eyes were still contentedly closed as you asked, “Meant what?”

“That you should come to Europe with me this summer.”

You let out a soft laugh that quickly turned into a sigh of contentment when his lips found a particularly sensitive part of your neck. “You’re insane.”

“Insanely serious,” Steve said in between kisses. 

You pulled back then to look at him— it was hard to do, you really didn’t want to pull away, but reluctantly you did. You wanted to gauge how serious he was actually being right then, and you could tell by the look on his face that he wasn’t joking. 

His hands found yours and intertwined them. “Say yes.”

How happy he sounded rubbed off on you and you had to bite your lip to suppress your growing smile. “I’ll think about it.”

“That sounds like a yes to me,” He said, still smiling as he leaned in to kiss you. 

You pulled away after the briefest second. “I’m serious.” You weren’t at all. “I gotta make a pro and con list to make sure this is the right decision.” 

“Okay, I’m already thinking of a bunch of pros to add to the list,” Steve told you and then gave you a playful smile. “I can’t think of any cons, though, so...” He finished off with a shrug that made you laugh. 

Weirdly enough, no cons were coming to your mind right then either. 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

next part!

taglist (lmk if you want to be added or taken off<333); @eddiernunson , @loulouloueh , @the-aster , @blckburd , @totally-bogus-timelady , @yujyujj , @irhdifartzamfyaa , @mochminnie , @munsonssweets , @blckbrrybasket , @xprloki , @definitionwanderlust , @dwcode , @sun-fiower-seed , @keerysfolklore , @damon-loves-pie , @lodeddiperrodrick , @bisexual-and-intellectual , @munsonburn3r , @negomi123 , @khena , @facexthexsunshine , @seatbacksandtraytables , @suckerfordylansstuff , @lilacccs , @thehairington86 , @welcometohellsock

(if your user is crossed out it means i can’t tag you</3)

[fizzywashere87]

OKAY OKAY SO I WAMNA REQUEST LIKE 2012 RAPH HAS A CRUSH

AND HIS CRUSH IS THE MOST DENSE MF EVER LIKE RAOH WILL FLIRT WITH EM AND THEY'LL BE LIKE "awe thanks!" Just really oblivious lol

notes: OMGIE YESSSSS THIS IS CUTE (it has been rotting in my inbox for a few weeks months and this i apologize for) also i didn't know if you wanted hc's or a fic so i js went with a fic for this one BUT I HAD SO MUCH FUN WRITING THIS TYSM FOR REQUESTING ML I HOPE YOU ENJOY!! 🫶🫶

Warnings: Gn! Reader, Fluff? Slight crack ig, Rushed at the end kinda

M.List

Think Babes, Think!

Raphael and his brothers were training in the dojo, as usual. Nothing new, nothing to bat an eye for, though Raphael was somewhat distracted. This was not usual.

What was he thinking about that made him so distracted you ask me?

Them.

Who's them?

(Name)

He's gonna try and flirt with them today, that's why he's so worked up.

Raphael is put against Donatello today in their sparring matches, and while they circle each other just waiting for Master Splinter to give them the 'go,' Raphael can't seem to shut his thoughts up.

They probably don't even like you back.

You're an ugly, gross mutant, they're human and just perfect, no human wants to be with a mutant, nonetheless one like them.

Ugly green freak-

His anger was beginning to show on his face. Donatello noticed, raising a non-existent brow, he started, "Uh- Raph-"

"Haijime!"

Raph lunged at Donnie right away, which the taller turtle narrowly dodged, causing Raph to tuck and land on his knees for him to quickly get back up again. The rest of the sparring match was a blur, Raphael was just angry.

"Yame!"

He came back to his sense when he heard Donnie groan from the floor as he stood over him panting slightly. He wasn't as angry as he was a few seconds ago, but the feeling of anger definitely lingered. Donnie got up, Leo and Mikey were already seated on their knees, Leo having won that match. "Uh, Raph, you look, like extra angry dude-" Mikey spoke up prompting Raph to whip his head at his younger brother and send him a glare.

"I am not angry." He spoke through gritted teeth, Mikey put his hands up in mock defense as Donnie and Raph go to sit on their knees beside their two brothers. Master Splinter stands in front of his four sons his hands clasped behind his back, the boys wait to hear what he's about to say, Raph, with an angered look on his features.

"You boys did-"

"Casey! Cut it out!"

"I didn't do nothin' red!"

"Say on God, we both seen you Jones!"

Master Splinter sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose at the certain ruckus going on at the new arrivals if you'll call them that, Leo also seems to sigh, the rest of the brothers unphased.

At the sound of their voice, Raph's anger was immediately lifted a ton, and he thought about his plan to flirt with them today. He didn't know how he was going to do it, but he was going to. His attention turned back to his sensei when he heard another sigh come from him. "You boys did well today, remember your strengths, hide and let go of your weaknesses. We will resume our training tomorrow."

"Hai sensei!" The boys say together, bowing slightly before getting up and meeting their human friends who're in the living room.

As the four boys walk in, April gives a warm smile and wave, (Name) flashes their usual grin, and Casey continues munching on popcorn. Donnie runs to April first much to Casey's dismay and he gets ready to pick a small fight. Mikey, as usual runs to grab a comic book and he plops on the couch next to Casey, giving (Name) a fist bump, Leo also walking over to greet and join his friends. (Name) looks to Raph who seems to be taking the soul out of that poor punching dummy.

(Name) walks over to him, smiling slightly. "Hey Raph, what 'cha up to?" They ask talking over his quieter grunts. He pauses for a moment, looking at them and sighing slightly, (Name) didn't pick up on it.

"Nothing, just punching." He replies, crossing his arms, they look at the dummy and back at him, nodding in understandment. He really wanted to say something sweet to them, something that would give them the hint. This was so, so, not like him. He's not supposed to care about this, the only thing he's supposed to care about is punching aliens and taking down Shredder. So why, why was he so persistent with this?

Although now that he thinks about it, he may have to be a bit more straightforward with (Name). There was that one time...

"Hey." Raph says as a greeting, seeing (Name) walk into the lair, they plop down on the couch next to him, and he sets his comic down.

"Hey Raph! What's up?" (Name) smiled and started idly tapping their foot on the ground. This was his chance, why was he doing this? Never mind that he's doing it, no matter how soft he comes off as.

"You," he clears his throat, "you look cute today." Raph says mentally cursing himself at the way he sounded and how they easily could've taken that as him implying they don't look cute everyday.

(Name) pauses for a moment, taking in his words. A bright smile etches across their face and she gives him a thumbs up. "Thank you Raph! You look pretty good yourself!" They stay quiet for a moment before speaking up. "You okay? It's totally not like you to give out compliments like that!" (Name) tilts their head a wave of concern washing over their adorable human features.

Raph was dumbfounded, shocked even. He stayed quiet for a moment as he processes how his flirting just flew over your head. Were they playing dumb with him to avoid rejecting him? he wouldn't blame them... (Name) was a human and he was an ugly green freak!

"What do you mean?! I can't compliment people?!" He plays the angry and defensive card to get out of that one.

(Name) watches as he punches the dummy, looking over how his muscles flexed at certain points, taking it all in. They wished he seen them the way they do. Why can't he like them back?

Raph stops his punching and turns towards (Name), he took a deep breath and sighed. "(Name), can I ask you something?" He sounded almost nervous? What was wrong?

"Of course Raph! What's up?" (Name) asked slightly concerned, it could be anything at this point. (Name) was hoping he'd get it over quickly so they don't have to wait any longer in suspense.

"Would you," Raph clears his throat, "Would you want to go out sometime?" His tried not to wince as his voice took on a higher pitch at the end.

(Name) thought for a moment, was he asking them out? Probably not, either way they would love to go. "Sure!" They smile, "Any specific reason?" They ask curious as to why Raph of all people would want to go out with them.

Raph sighed audibly through his nose. Welp, this was going to be all or nothing. Time to rip the bandaid off for this one. "I was asking you out on a date." He crosses his arms he scoffs. "Forget it, you wouldn't want to go on a date with an ugly green mutant. Stop playing stupid with me." Raph walks off, angry and a little sad.

(Name) pauses for a moment, as if something wet had just hit them in the face. "What?" They mumble. "Raph wait!" They call out and Raph pauses.

"What do you want?" Raph turns around to face them again, although he didn't really want to. (Name) lightly jogs up to him. "I would love to go out with you, I just didn't think that you liked me like that..." (Name) says rubbing the back of their neck awkwardly.

Raph raises a brow, a small smirk on his face. "You really are that dense." He said crossing his arms, getting an eye roll from (Name)."Where were you thinking we go?" (Name) asks, referring to their up coming date, completely disregarding his (lighthearted) insult.

"Mr. Murakami's place, it's not like I can go anywhere else." Raph says as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. (Name) shrugs and nods. "You do have a point there." They smile at him and plant a kiss on his cheek.

"Pick me up at 8 on Friday!" (Name) skips off to go hangout with April who was seated on the couch engrossed in her laptop for school. Raph was left there with pink cheeks and wide eyes, his jaw slightly agape.

Wow.

@fashionablysouly @serendipitous-girl

[hgfictionwriter]

Maybe This Time - Part Four

Jessie Fleming x Reader

Summary: Confessions finally come to light and Jessie has the chance to ask you what she should've asked you years ago.

Warnings: Mild language. Outside of that - none. Just fluff, fluff, fluff.

A/N: I'm ignoring the most recent Thorns results in this story, btw lol. They're gonna rebound - I know it! Previous parts for this series can be found on my masterlist.

"Nice playing tonight. Congrats on the win." 

Jessie smiled to herself as she sat on the twin-sized bed of her hotel room and laid back, resting her head on the pillow.  

A few team members were still downstairs in the hotel restaurant, but she was beat and needed some downtime. She knew Janine would stay down with the group for a while, so this was her chance to get some solitude.  

"Thank you! I'm super happy with how the team was playing together today. And away games can be tough, but I'm stoked. Anyway, enough football talk lol how was your dinner?" 

"Well, you play Utah next – I'm no expert analyst, but as far as I can tell, your chances for 3 points are good lol. And dinner was delicious – thank you for asking. [Y/friend] and [Y/other friend] went out for drinks after but I called it a night. I'm exhausted after this week." 

"Lol I don't want to jinx anything, but yeah, you may be right about those 3 points. Sorry to hear you're so tired. You had a super stressful week though – I know work was crazy for you and then your brother showing up out of the blue. Yeah. That's a rough week. I'm sorry I'm not there to help more." 

"What are you talking about? You were so helpful. I bet you thought you were done hearing about my family drama, but here we are again lol. It's just a lot less common now – thank God. And anyway, what about you – what are you up to? Don't feel like you have to text me. I know you're with the team." 

"It's not a problem – seriously. Call me anytime. And it's all good – I've retreated to my room early. It's been a long day." 

"Okay, still, don't feel like you have to respond. I know you need your me-time; take it if you can get it." 

"It's alright. Really.-" 

Jessie stared at her phone for a few seconds as she contemplated continuing her thought. Screw it.  

"-I'm happy talking with you."  

She hit send and subconsciously held her breath for a second before remembering to breathe. She worked to dismiss any mounting anxieties, but had a hard time denying the way her pulse had quickened. It only got faster when she saw you starting to type. Her eyes remained fixed onto the screen until your reply came through.  

"Well that makes two of us." 

"As in I'm happy talking with you." 

Jessie chuckled, relief going through her body. She lifted a finger to her mouth and mindlessly chewed at her skin. Her brow creased as she contemplated her next move. Thoughts ping-ponged inside her mind before she threw caution to the wind – very intently so – and started texting. 

"Lol I understood." 

"Hey, are you busy next weekend? There's this pop-up exhibit in town for a few days. Maybe we could go and grab a late dinner together after?" 

"Are you talking about the CityScape exhibit? I wanted to go to that! Yes, that sounds amazing." 

Jessie beamed from ear to ear. 

"Okay, awesome. I'll get tickets." 

"Thanks, just tell me what I owe you." 

"Nothing at all 😊" 

"Stop it. Tell me what I owe you. Or I can just buy dinner, then. Whatever works." 

Jessie huffed. She was conjuring up a rebuttal when another message came in from you. 

"Okay, I have to confess something. It's been weighing on me for years and this just totally made me think of it again." 

Jessie frowned as she wracked her mind for any possibility of what you may be referring to.  

"Okay. What is it? Whatever it is, I'm sure it's okay." 

"Lol you say that now." 

"K. Remember when we went to that underground art show and then dinner and drinks in WeHo a few months after we first met? Or more specifically, remember when you asked me if I wanted to go to that?" 

Of course she did. You looked amazing that night. She was grateful that Teagan and Mia were there to distract her because if it had just been the two of you, she wasn't sure if she'd have been able to function.  

"Yeah, I remember. Why?" 

"So, full disclosure, I legitimately thought you were asking me on a date to that. When you showed up with Mia and Teags? DEAD. Let's just say it was a very humbling experience hahaha. So embarrassing! Enough time has passed that I can admit to it lol. It cracks me up now." 

Jessie didn't even realize her mouth was agape. Her mind was absolutely foggy and turned upside down as she reread your message again and again. She felt like she was having an out of body experience. Her mouth was dry and she started stammering even though there was no one to hear it.  

She needed to talk to Janine.

Before she even knew what she was doing, she found herself hauling open the hotel door and started padding down the hall until she realized she didn't have shoes on. She whipped around in a flurry to go back into the room and grab her shoes.  

"Shit!" She exclaimed as she more or less faceplanted into the door when it didn't open as she turned the handle. In her fluster she forgot she needed a key to open it. She stared down blankly at the lock for a few seconds before belatedly realizing she'd left the hotel key in the room. "Oh my god," she growled under breath. She spun on her heel and looked down the hall as she contemplated what to do.  

She looked back down at her phone and called up Janine. She let out another frustrated growl when the call went to voicemail. She texted her. "CALL ME. NOW." 

She paced back and forth in the hallway for a few seconds before looking back at the message you sent. Now anxiety around not replying to you was setting in. She didn't want you to think she was put off by what you said, but she also didn't know what the heck to say. This was too precarious a situation.  

She stood there motionless for a moment as she weighed her options and before she could start to overthink things she took off down the hall to the elevators.  

Once inside, she hit the 'M' button and the button to close the doors repeatedly in a vain attempt to move this journey along faster. She groaned when the elevator slowed at one of the floors along the way. She offered the joining guest a stiff smile and felt heat rush to her face when they glanced down at her sock feet.  

Once at the main floor, she took long, brisk steps towards the restaurant where she'd left the team and searched the remaining crowd for Janine. She spotted the blonde at a table towards the back and took a few steps into the restaurant – hoping not to get caught by the host. Thankfully, she caught Janine's eye. She waved the blonde over with uncharacteristically exaggerated movements and the blonde just frowned at her. Jessie's shoulders slumped in momentary defeat and frustration before she gave the girl another pointed look and gave a sharp wave. The blonde held up her hands in concession and got up. Jessie caught the curious looks the rest of her team gave her and offered a mere wave of 'hello' before grabbing Janine by the arm when she approached and dragging her out into the lobby.  

"I need your help." 

"What the heck!" Janine complained as she jerked her arm out of Jessie's grasp and shook it out for show. "What is going on? And why are you in your socks," she went on as she gave Jessie a disapproving look.  

Jessie bit back a sardonic, tense reply and instead just held up her phone to Janine's face. The blonde winced at the sudden movement and frowned as she read the message, before her jaw, too, fell like Jessie's had earlier.  

"Oh my gosh," Janine said in bewilderment. Jessie nodded repeatedly. "Oh. My. Gosh! Okay. So – what the heck – you left her on read?" 

"I didn't know what to say!" Jessie responded with a harsh whisper, gaze flitting about as she tried to not draw further attention to them.  

"Oh my gosh, Jessie. You're the worst," she said with an eye roll as she began to usher the smaller girl towards the elevators. Before Jessie could protest, Janine held up her hand in declaration, "Okay. We need a game plan..."

Jessie's mind was still racing as she stared vacantly at the elevator floor deep in thought as she pieced things together. Suddenly, she inhaled sharply, eyes growing wide as she lifted her head to look at Janine.

"She went on her first date with [an ex] like a month after that night! Wa-" She stopped herself momentarily, thoughts resetting before she started again, "Wait - do you think if we'd actually had a date that night that she wouldn't have dated her?"

Janine gave her a long stare that tapered into a look that was half sympathetic, half pointed. "Jess."

"Oh my God," Jessie groaned as she rubbed her face.

"Sorry - that was probably really awkward. That was a long time ago. And obviously it was all good in the end. Anyway, now I can die with an unburdened soul lol.”

“What do I say!” Jessie said, her voice rising while her heart beat out of her chest.

The elevator dinged as they reached their floor and the two looked at each other before exiting and heading to their room.

“Well, this could be your opportunity. Why not just tell her that you liked her? I know you aren’t comfortable telling her you like her now. But you can admit to it for the past,” Janine suggested.

Jessie’s eyes scanned around as she processed the different scenarios and outcomes that could arise. Her instinct was to say “no”, but she really couldn’t find a logical reason to deny it. She huffed.

“Okay. Well. What - I just say ‘Oh hey - speaking of funny stories, I had a crush on you for years. And I’m glad your exes hated me, cause guess what, I hated them because I was jealous’?” Jessie said moodily as she crossed her arms.

“Maybe not that,” Janine said with a sidelong glance.

The girls talked hurriedly, debating back and forth about what to say until Janine threw her hands up in relinquishment.

“I told you what I think. It’s your call. This is your relationship. Or - would-be relationship,” she relayed.

Jessie sighed heavily once more and sat down on the edge of her bed. She had to chill out. She reminded herself that this time things were supposed to be different. And that she was different, and not so scared.

“Sooo does that mean you would’ve said “yes” to a date? Wish I had known. I would’ve gladly taken you on a date.”

Jessie exhaled slowly as the message sent. She looked up to Janine and ignored how her ears were ringing.

She glanced back down and immediately saw bubbles come up.

“Lol! I’m sure.”

“I’m serious.”

“Jessie! Come on.”

“What? I’m dead serious. Question is if you would’ve actually said ‘yes’.”

“I wore my nicest dress and actually put in the time to do my hair and make-up properly. So I’ll leave that up to you to interpret.”

“Janine,” Jessie complained, her pitch rising as she rubbed her face in aggravation before bringing the hand down to slap against her leg. “I’m such an idiot.”

“Well I could’ve told you that,” Janine rebutted without hesitation before pausing and giving a small shrug. “For this situation anyway.”

Jessie exhaled in frustration again as she readjusted position on the bed, eyes still transfixed on your text. You know what? She might as well own it.

“Well, I’m an idiot. I truly thought I didn’t have a chance with you. For the record, you looked stunning that night. But also for the record, I liked you just as much in your everyday clothes and makeup or when you didn’t try at all.”

By now Janine was kneeling on the bed behind Jessie, hands on Jessie’s shoulders as she watched everything unfold. She was started to make a remark when she let out a loud gasp as Jessie’s screen lit up with a call from you.

“Oh my gosh!” Janine exclaimed.

“Shit!” Jessie said as panic began to rush through her. She was about to accept when she noted Janine’s head right next to her and she shook the blonde off of her. “Go!”

“Oh now you want me to leave,” Janine protested.

Jessie waved her off and took a steadying breath before answering and holding the phone up to her ear.

“Hello?”

“Jessie Fleming. You start off by giving me a heart attack - just leaving me hanging after I share my deeply embarrassing and humbling story. And now you come out of left field with - I think - a confession of your own? Are you fucking with me right now?”

Jessie choked and coughed at your wording. You didn’t sound mad at all. Bewildered? Yes.

“No. No I’m not,” she said much more tentatively than she’d intended.

The line was silent for a few seconds and Jessie was about to check if the call dropped when you spoke up again. This time you were the one who sounded tentative.

“Okay. Wait. Let’s recap. So-” Jessie could practically hear you thinking. “-you’re saying you would’ve wanted to go on a date together?”

Jessie pushed her hair back unnecessarily. “Um, yeah.” She shook her head out and spoke more confidently. “Yes. I would’ve.”

She heard you give a disbelieving chuckle. “But you didn’t,” you said slowly, but matter of fact. “I’m sorry. I’m just kind of shocked,” you laughed further. “You felt like you didn’t have a chance with me? Are you serious?”

Jessie exhaled, eyes set on the floor as she gave a shrug of her shoulders. “Dead serious.”

“Come on. The great, unattainable, Jessie Fleming, liked me? Impossible. I mean, yeah, we were close, but you never really showed any indication of it being more. I mean, at most it must’ve been short lived.”

Jessie tried to process your words that were coming at her a mile a minute. You gave her an out. She could say it was a fleeting thing. A curiosity. But, Janine was right, this really was the chance.

“Uh,” Jessie rubbed her face distractedly, feeling heat rushing to her cheeks, “if ‘short lived’ means all through uni, then sure.”

The call was silent again and Jessie could hear her pulse throbbing inside of her head until you finally spoke again.

“Now you’re really fucking with me."

Jessie's body continued to heat up and she tugged subconsciously at the collar of her shirt.

"I've said too much already. I mean, it was obviously short lived on your end - which is totally fine."

"Why do you say that?" You questioned.

Jessie frowned, making a face and ignoring how Janine was attempting to look occupied with her own thing, but clearly eavesdropping.

"What do you mean?" Jessie asked, careful not to sound argumentative. "You dated a lot of girls in university. Well, not a lot. You know what I mean."

She heard you give a short laugh on the other end of the call before speaking wryly.

"Well, maybe - no, never mind." You exhaled lightly. "Anyway - it's all in the past, but, consider me stunned." You gave a bit of a chuckle. "I hope you're more forward with girls now than you were then. I really didn't know you had any interest."

"I was shy," Jessie offered as she scratched her temple. "Like painfully shy. And you were so pretty, and smart, and charming - I just didn't know what to do."

A glare crossed Jessie's face as Janine hopped down in front of her and mouthed 'Tell her you like her!" as she gestured wildly in the air.

"Well, now I'm extra confused about why we didn't stay in contact after university. If you liked me that much," you stated without challenge.

Jessie sighed. She'd told you enough. She didn't need to get into how desperately in love she was that she needed to cut herself off from you altogether to even have a hope of moving on.

"I mean, we don't need to rehash it all. Anyway, recap, I liked you, you were open to a date, but I stupidly didn't ask you out." Jessie chuckled, trying to keep things light. She cleared her throat and the heat that had started to fade from her face came raging back and she began to fidget. "And, um," - she glanced to Janine for reassurance - "I don't know. If you're open to it, maybe we could finally have that date. When I pick you up next time, it could be a date - for real."

She heard you hum before speaking.

"That sounds really nice. Yes. I'd like that a lot."

Jessie's eyes lit up and her posture straightened immediately as she looked to Janine excitedly. The blonde gave a boisterous, but silent celebration.

"Okay," Jessie said, her voice growing tight momentarily as she tried to remain composed. She cleared her throat and relaxed her shoulders. "Sounds like a plan, then."

A/N: Part Five is available here.

[cupcakeslushie]

Hey guys! Just wanted to give a life update. I’m trying to plan with a friend to do a local market on March 9th, so things might be a little slow for a while. And I also discovered I have to move in a couple months, so now I’ve gotta go apartment hunting. I am not too happy about this fact :/ lol

I was hoping to get a lot of drawing done during the previously mentioned 3 day, at home EEG, which I had to do this week, but it ended up being a lot more….distracting and cumbersome, than I’d thought, and sadly I didn’t get much accomplished. (Basically for four days it felt like fire ants were living on my head and it was insanely hard to concentrate. And I could only get up, and be disconnected from the bundle of wires for like 20 min at a time)

Febuwhump has taken a big backseat. I might put out a few more pieces before the end, but I’ve got a lot on my plate with this market so I’m not stressing about it anymore. So if you don’t see me posting at my usual level during the next two weeks please don’t panic! I haven’t “left” or “abandoned” the fandom or anything. Im still plotting out the next updates for EW, Feral Leo, and Brainworm Donnie.

Also if you’ve sent me anything for the TMNT AU competition, please know I’ve seen it, and would love to reply but it may be awhile. We might have to eventually do a bunch in big batches, but I love everything I’ve been sent! And please don’t feel like this is me saying I don’t want you to send me stuff, just be aware I might not get to it immediately!

I’m not gonna be disappearing completely during this time, but I think I’ll only be able to post little sketches and smaller scale stuff for a few weeks. Bigger updates will have to wait, and be worked on when I’m done with the market.

So that’s the skinny, for now!

💚💚💚

[fqiryspit]

ahh congratulations on the milestone!!! you truly deserve it 💗 this is such a cool idea, i’m so excited to see what you write 💗

can i request smut 3, 22 and 27 pls? :) i really hope i did that right lol

hii babes! thank you so much! and yes you did it perfectly!

3, 22, and 27 = please kiss me, show me how much you need me, and do you think you deserve this?

bully!eren x nerd!reader

cw: dom!reader, pussy eating, sex in a classroom, squirting, whiny eren, and eren has a weird way of showing his feelings, reader wears glasses

leaning against the cold locker you picked at your nails, bored as ever.

as your glasses slid and halt at the end of your nose, you shake them back up just to see a face not inches away from yours

"shit!" you gasp, sliding up on the locker you were leaning on as he corners you in

"what the fuck are you doing?" he snarls, your features twist as you try and remember a time you pissed off eren intentionally

"what do you mean?" you relax, feeling angrier than frightened until he slams a hand onto the locker next to you, successfully closing you in

"last weeks quiz" he answers simply. you feel your shoulders tense as you recall him cheating off you, it's nothing new, except...well...you failed.

"you don't flunk quizzes, y/n." his jaw clenches down, eyes burning wholes straight through your frames

"well thank you" you chuckle, hiding how you desperately want to get out of this situation with humor

"don't try and be a smart ass now."

"what was so fucking fascinating you failed us both?" he asked, you were hoping he'd think you put the wrong answers on purpose and just erased them at the end. because that would've been a lot better from the truth.

"i-" you tuck your bottom lip in, fuck, you're probably so red right now

"holy shit" he remarks, you feel yourself sinking into the metal behind you as he barks laughter into your face "who was getting you so hot and bothered?" he asks, you turn away from him as you refuse to play into his torture

"oh, don't say it was-"

"armin."

eren was obviously taken aback by your statement, thinking it was him you'd be so distracted by. he felt the warmth pool to his cheeks before he could even digest what you just said

"oh." he slips out, disappointment thick on his tongue as your head shoots up from the lack of teasing

"what's so good about armin?" his question shocks you but you scoff before crossing your arms and looking up at him

"okay, well, first of all, he's not a dick...he's extremely smart, handsome, and-" suddenly you're being pushed to the room next to you, stumbling into the vacant art class

"what the hell" another pull and you're against the wall with his lips on yours, once you process what's happening you push him off you immediately

"eren! what the fuck!" you snap, wiping your lips off as heat pools your cheeks

"fuck- I'm sorry I-" he stutters over his words, placing a hand over his eyes to delete himself from this conversation

"what's...wrong with you?" you say a little more genuinely, eren...just kissed you? and now is, what...embarrassed about it?

"y/n, please I'm just- youstartedgoingoffaboutarminandimsorry" he says in one breath as you stand there, shocked.

soon you spit out a laugh, not taking him seriously until you watch him stare at the floor with shame

"oh, you're- you're serious?" you say through tears while walking towards him.

"so you being an absolute dick to be for the past, what, four months was just an act?" you yell,

"I'm sorry" "do you know how much you embarrassed me? made me look like an idiot?"

"do you think you deserve this? me?" you coo, going up to him as you even notice tears forming in his eyes

"aw, now you're gonna fucking cry" you taunt at him and he looks up at you finally. your eyes moving to his red ones, glossy and plump from the kiss you shared not moments before

"no, I wouldn't deserve you" he chokes out, you feel warmth pool in your panties. uncomfortably shifting as you decide to take a turn with this altercation

"show me..." you whisper, he stares at you, confused as you speak up again with more force

"show me how much you need me" his eyes blow as you move to kiss him, hands cupping his tan cheeks as your glasses squish into his face, your lips lap together frantically as you move to undo the belt he has on

with that, he follows and strips you of your jeans and spins you around, laying on the desk

moving to your soaked panties he rips them off hurriedly and moves to lick up your pussy, you've always heard the tall tales of the monster cock and unworldly fucking but never gave it the time of day, now you're living it.

your back arches against the glossed desk as you feel yourself unwinding already.

"fuck, eren" you moan out, moving to grip your own tit through your shirt as he continues to suck your clit until your cream spills on his face

he laps at the essence until satisfied and moves up to your face where his pupils were spinning and his chin was shining

"please kiss me" he slurs, deep voice rasping against your face as he waits for your move

you move up and kiss him, teeth knocking together as you move your lips rapidly

you feel his head nudging your entrance as you buck your hips toward it, he slides it in bit by bit as you try to relax as you take in his (now proven) monster cock

"holy fuck" you whisper, he kisses your temple as he thrust the rest of himself in, you moan into his tee shirt as he snaps his hips into yours, reaching down and rubbing your clit as he moves toward your ear

"I'm gonna make you fucking squirt on my cock" he says as if it's already set in stone, and honestly, with how he's treating you right now, you're gonna say it is.

"you terrify me ya'know" a hard thrust. "talkin' about armin like that" another. "like you fucking like him" again. "I'll treat you so well, you deserve it, especially after everything I did"

"I'm so sorry" he says but it goes through one ear and out the other

"eren," you move to try and catch his eyes with the pace you're being fucked at

"this is the perfect apology" you moan, he moves to kiss your cheek as you daze out, he rubs your clit again, pressing on it from time to time to tease you slightly

"fuck fuck eren-" you whine, feeling your orgasm approaching rapidly

"me too baby, fuck you keep sucking me the fuck in" he groans, speeding up his pace as he haphazardly rubs your clit

"fuck! fuck!" you can no longer control your moans, the bell rings out and you're forever grateful as you both scream freely when you cum

(as promised) you squirt everywhere, and you're laid limp on the desk as you feel a kiss on your head and the muffled chatter of students in the hall

he moves to kiss you again, finding your lips so addictive as he gets more before saying,

"c'mon, we gotta get to class"

an: ahhh! I hope you liked this! also, thank you so so so much for requesting! I was so stoked to see your request and I'm already having a lot of fun writing these <33

[igotlovestruck]

mr lover [ ben chilwell ]

— right where you left lover girl sequel, this takes place two years later!

[ 𝗣𝗔𝗜𝗥𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗔𝗡𝗗 𝗖𝗛𝗔𝗥𝗔𝗖𝗧𝗘𝗥𝗦 ] — ben chilwell x singer!reader . ⊹ ✶ ㄔ 🫂 °.   *

[ 𝗗𝗘𝗧𝗔𝗜𝗟𝗦 & 𝗪𝗔𝗥𝗡𝗜𝗡𝗚𝗦 ] — romance, mentions pregnancy, google translated french . ⊹ ✶ ㄔ ℹ️ °.   *

࣪˖ 💭 .. 𝗘𝗬𝗔’𝗦 𝗡𝗢𝗧𝗘𝗦 ⌕ clearing my drafts again 😵‍💫 if you ask me, i’m obsessed with singer!reader fics lol

this work is purely fictional. names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. © httpsuniverse, 2023. do not steal, repost in other platforms, translate and/or claim this work as your own.

benchilwell

liked by masonmount, yourusername, reecejames and others

benchilwell family time

view all 592 comments

user am i reading this right ?? ‘family’ time ??

user his dog clinging to y/n is the cutest thing ever

user they’re such dog parents 😭

yourusername my babyyy my babyyy

benchilwell which one?

yourusername one of you will be in a lot of pain if i say who

benchilwell 🙄

yourusername

liked by benchilwell, masonmount, cmpulisic and others

yourusername look at me, i am the favourite hooman now.

view all 826 comments

user not y/n quoting from captain phillips 😭

benchilwell once i get back home, i will take my title back

yourusername NONSENSE! you cannot dethrone the current favourite hooman

user y/n saying hooman instead of human 😭 that’s so dog momma of her

yourusername i birthed this child

benchilwell huh

yourusername huh

user pls he looks so comfy on y/n’s lap, he’s obviously not a lap dog

yourusername if he fits, he sits

user agreed 🤝

user why did all this time i thought y/n was a cat person

user she literally loves any kind of animal 😭 she adopted a ferret when she was a kid

yourusername omg !! mr fuzzy wuzzy was my childhood pet 🥹 maybe i should adopt another ferret

benchilwell what? no way

yourusername heheheheheheheeh

benchilwell

liked by masonmount, yourusername, judebellingham and others

benchilwell home is where the heart is.

view all 289 comments

yourusername but god i love the english

benchilwell you know i love a london boy

yourusername 🫣🫣

user ben at this point, you really are the extra hooman

benchilwell i cant blame him

yourusername i told you i birthed this dog

benchilwell 😂

yourprivate

liked by masonspriv, reecespriv, mikaspriv and 23 others

yourprivate hehe oops

view all comments

mikaspriv what the fuck is this how i find out ?!?!?!!

yourprivate heheheheheheheeheh

mikaspriv IM PACKING MY BAGS AND HOPPING ON THE NEXT PLANE

benspriv little chilly 🔜

masonspriv i never wouldve known if i hadnt opened this account

reecespriv me too mate

christiansprivme three

jackspriv me four

benspriv me five

yourpriv what

benspriv what

yourusername and benchilwell

liked by masonmount, chelseafc, england, madders and 8,826,937 others

yourusername we’re getting him a human in a few months 🙈

view all 399,826 comments

benchilwell babe i thought we already agreed what the caption will be

yourusername mines funnier

benchilwell 🙄

masonmount who thought that covering his eyes would be cute

yourusername mine. do you have any problem with that? 😀

masonmount i don’t maam, it’s a great idea, very very cute!

user this is the cutest announcement 😭

user as a fellow dog mummy, i approve of this post!

weratedogs 100/10 for being such a good boy and will be the goodest big brother!

user as a y/n fan since debut, i feel OLD (we’re the same age)

yourusername omg since debut album?!?!?! 😳 we have to meet like RIGHT NOW

user y/n went from writing how she’s stuck in the past, to loving herself and loving a new person 🥹 now she’s probably gonna write something about her baby ... just thinking about it rn makes me emotional

— ❤️ by yourusername

england congratulations benchilwell and yourusername! 🤍

chelseafc shall we make a onesie for baby chilwell?

yourusername omg YES PLEASE

benchilwell 🤦🏻‍♂️

yourusername JUST IMAGINE HOW CUTE OUR BABY WILL BE ON THAT ONESIE

benchilwell

liked by prodbymika, masonmount, madders, england and others

benchilwell eleanor chilwell is here 🩷👨🏻‍🍼 you did good mama, i’m proud and grateful to you, yourusername. i love you both

comments on this post have been limited.

yourusername thank you dada, we love you too 🩷

yourusername

liked by benchilwell, charles_leclerc and 3,826,929 others

yourusername the happiest i’ve ever been 🩷 merci pour tout mon benji. je t'aime toi et eleanor de tout mon coeur. (thank you for everything, my benji. i love you and eleanor with all my heart)

view all 150,729 comments

benchilwell 🩷🩷

user several chapters missed but i’m glad to see you so happy y/n 🥹

user i was surprised when they announced she was pregnant, bit i was more surprised to know that they’re married now 😭

user the hand placements of ben 😭

user i’m so alone yall

user AAA y/n 🥺

user literally went from being dog parents to real parents 🥺🩷

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ─────────────────

yourusername and benchilwell

2,836,729 likes

yourusername darling, don’t you ever grow up... just stay this little. happy birthday my sweet eleanor🩷 mama (with the help of dada) wrote a song for you baby, me and dada loves you sooo much. never grow up out now ✨

view all 238,861 comments

benchilwell growing up too fast, my ellie bear 🥲

user ellie bear... 😭 bens such a girl dad

user stopp im emo im not even a parent

user omg eleanor looks so cute!!

user milks expensive, im too young to be a mum

user my daily mantra every time i see ben or y/n post eleanor

user they have a little ballerina 🥺

user 4 years old already? 😭 time really flew by omg

yourusername i know right 🥺

user y/n and her happy ending 🥺 CURRENTLY TAKING A BATH WITH MY TOASTER RN

[u3pxx]

WHAT DO YOU MEAN IT'S 2024?!?!

next, you're gonna tell me it's gonna be some made-up year like "2025" next. tch, imagine that.

anyways, whoo! 2023! compared to both 2022 and 2021, i gotta say, my art style took a hard swerve in some direction this year. i mean, look at that klavier from january and that butch kim from just this december! (granted, i heavily referenced the portrait of butch kim but still, i didn't use to paint! mama mia!)

---

the way i drew faces has definitely changed, that's what i get for getting into something that's live-action and into smth that has realistically proportioned art lol

OH! OH! HOW COULD I FORGET!!! IT WAS (and still will be) THE YEAR OF THE OLD MAN!! i really learned how to draw aged faces this year! ach fraulein, i have not stopped drawing people in their 40's-50's! i would say "send help" but i'm actually having a lot of fun ASKSKS

---

i think a funny thing about these art summaries i've done is that they're mostly ace attorney but then there's just a month where i become a different type of ill LMAO this year it was four months for the price of two new interests!

cheers! here's to 2024!!! hope y'all have a fun art year!!!!

---

i'm gonna ramble more below about like, other art things i did this year but i'm gonna put it under 'keep reading' bc this baby is getting way too wordy now WHEEZES

1. FAVORITE THINGS I'VE DRAWN THIS YEAR (IN NO PARTICULAR ORDER)

⚖️ mea culpa comic [x]

drawing this one was so time-consuming and ambitious but boy, do i love the end result! i had fun doing the inks for this one but was it a lot! i usually color in lineart and render everything but i had to stop myself from doing it for this one bc man, i'll die asksks

this also has some of my favorite apollos i've drawn, definitely

also! the part about the lineart not being colored and no rendering ended up being a deliberate stylistic choice for this one bc i had like more freedom to do just shadows with inks without it looking too out of place.

💐 my lawfully wedded zine spread [x]

now this one isn't out yet but take my word for when i say that this is one of the most craxy things i've ever drawn for this year, on account of drawing a comic AND group shot all in one!

also literally one of the prettiest things i've rendered this year, lookit that klav...

🎉 aa4 redraw - 2022 anniversary [x]

kind of like my wedding zine piece, group photos are insane, and rendering like uhhh [looks at drawing] 11 CHARACTERS IS ALSO INSANE if i try and draw a group photo again you have to stop me DFGHDJ

🎨 my art fight stuff [x] [x]

was possessed in the month of july or smth bc i pumped out like how many drawings so quickly (before i got burnt out that is pftt)

pace yourselves and don't be like me pls ajshgdghhjk

💥 people park day [x]

my friend told me that it was very obvious i watched across the spiderverse when they saw this FDFGHJD

but yea! this is when i started getting really into like, thought bubbles or just like, panels or drawings within a drawing when coming up with layouts

i still love the colors on this one...

🪩 fem disco portraits

ok so i haven't uploaded these yet but you have to trust me when i say that something was in the water DFGHDJ

who knew that all it took for me to learn how to paint was butches

2. ALSO DID YOU KNOW THAT I SOLD STICKERS THIS YEAR IN OUR UNI'S ART MART?

THE ONLY GOOD THING ABOUT THAT SCHOOL I SWEAR PFTTT this experience has also awaken the merch beast in me and i need to make more physical things for my brain to be happy, that's just how it be pfttt

hopefully next year i can actually start like a shopee shop or whatever lmao

3. ART FIGHT

i'm actually quite happy i got to participate in art fight this year! very delighted for all the art i've gotten and very fun to have drawn for others too!!

4. ZINES

i got invited and joined so many zines from 2022 continuing to 2023 that i kind of got burnt out from participating for now ngl ASKSKSKS not gonna be joining much this year oopsiessss! (unless i lose self-control [very likely])

5. SCHOOL

i don't actually like a lot of the stuff i draw for art school bc i tend to cram and not have fun pftt <- adhd moment, tragic! but here are some that i actually kind of like lol

6. THAT'S IT!

i think that's it! thanks for reading all the way down here!! o(*￣▽￣*)ブ

[justagalwhowrites]

Shelter

IT'S FINALLY DONE!

A request from MONTHS ago from the lovely, the talented, the supreme Lavender fan @dundienominee who wanted some QZ era Joel angst that included a few specifics. I thought you'd sent an ask but I think it was just one of the millions of DMs lol

So here it is! A NON-CANON Lavender one shot, where Joel and Doc are stuck together when FEDRA puts the QZ on lockdown.

I hope this is what you're looking for, love!!

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader from Lavender (can be read independently with the understanding that Joel and Reader are exes and Reader also dated Tommy in the QZ.)

Warnings: SMUT!, Results of canon-typical violence, infidelity (not on each other). No use of Y/N. Minors DNI, 18+ only.

Length: 8.4k

August, 2017

Joel had been right. 

That wasn’t a fact he particularly appreciated in that moment. He’d rather have been right and not shot. He’d rather have been wrong, for that matter, even if you’d be bound and fucking determined to hold it over him for the next who knows how fucking long. 

But no, he had to be right and shot. 

Still, better than another alternative. 

You shot. You hurt. That was the worst possible outcome. 

Well, maybe not the worst. That would be you dead.

Joel couldn’t think about that. 

“Shit,” you swore, the sound of FEDRA around the next corner. 

“There,” Joel said through gritted teeth, nodding toward a pile of junk. 

“Right,” you said, pulling him along toward it, your shoulder tucked into his underarm. You pulled him down to the ground just as a dozen or so FEDRA guards ran past, armed to the teeth, guns drawn. Joel fought to keep quiet, breathe silently through the pain, until he couldn’t hear them anymore. You looked at him. There was blood on your cheek. “Should we wait? Or do you think we’re good to move?” 

“So now you want to listen to me?” He asked sarcastically. You glared at him. He ignored it. “Should be alright now, doubt more troops will be headin’ that way from here.” 

You helped him to his feet and he leaned against you again, trying to ignore the way his body seemed to be hyperaware of everywhere you touched him. You started walking. 

“I’m really sorry, Joel,” you said, sounding a little breathless, as you started getting close to his apartment. “I really thought it would be alright…” 

“Maybe fuckin’ listen to me next time,” he managed through the pain. “Might not be a damn doctor but I do know about shit like this…” 

“I know,” you said quietly. 

Joel let the subject drop. 

The two of you had gone to the absolute shittiest part of the QZ to run medication to a boy there who had been in the clinic just a few days earlier. You’d gone on a special trip outside the QZ for it. You had explained it all to Joel and Tess, of course, but he didn’t really get it. All he knew was there was a four-year-old boy who needed some drug urgently. 

You just hadn’t bothered to explain where that drug needed to be taken until you, Joel and Tess made it back to the QZ. 

“No,” Joel had shaken his head. “No fuckin’ way…” 

“He’s going to die,” you said. “He has the flu, he’s already showing signs of complications, if he doesn’t get help it will kill him, I need…” 

“No.” 

“Fine,” you snapped. “I’ll go on my own.” 

You turned to leave. 

“No the fuck you won’t,” Joel grabbed your wrist, yanking you harshly alongside him. “Gonna just get yourself fuckin’ killed…” 

“Fuck off, Joel.” 

You pulled yourself from his grip and stalked off, leaving him no choice but to follow you. For someone as damn smart as you were, you made stupid fucking decisions. 

Decisions that led to the two of you getting caught in the crossfire between two rival groups that left Joel with a bullet in his stomach near his hip. 

“Almost there,” you said, your fingers holding tight to his side. 

“Know where the fuck we are,” he muttered. He didn’t need to look at you to know that you rolled your eyes in response. 

He managed to make it up the stairs and into the apartment, Tess pacing the living room. She stopped when she saw him, her eyes going wide. 

“Jesus Christ,” she ran to him, taking his other side. 

“Let’s get him to the table,” you said. “Trying to avoid doing this on the floor again…” 

Joel had all but forgotten that you’d saved his life here, in this room, once before. He had almost no memory of it, what little he did remember was more like a dream. You, next to him, your hands soft, voice gentle, something warm in him that was tied to you. You didn’t seem real, you seemed like something he’d lost, something that was in a place that was too far and too good for him to reach. But you were there. And you were taking care of him. 

“Fucking told you, Doc,” Tess snapped, helping to haul Joel’s broken body to the table. She cleared the papers and trash from it, dropping shit into a chair. “Fucking told you not to go to that side of the goddamn QZ…” 

“Yeah, I get it,” you snapped back. “I’m a fucking idiot, alright? Just help me.” 

You and Tess got Joel up on the table and he groaned, his muscle tensing and pulling around the wound in his stomach. 

“Sorry, sorry,” you said, helping him lay back on the wood with a grunt. 

“Don’t know why I let you talk us into this shit,” Tess said, still pissed, as she unbuttoned his shirt. “I should really fucking know better by now, you’re the dumbest smart person I know…” 

“Tess,” Joel growled. 

“She’s going to get you fucking killed,” she snapped. “She’s going to get us both fucking killed…” 

“Tess,” his voice was sharper. 

He knew that Tess was far from a fan of yours. She’d been growing tenser and tenser around you for a while now. He was never sure why, if it really was what she said and it was because she felt like you took stupid risks, if it was because he’d never been able to care about her the same way he cared about you in spite of how much he loathed it, if it was because she was tired of trying to keep the peace when you were so clearly done with him. For a while, it had seemed like the two of you were friends. Almost friends. But not anymore. 

“Someone has to give a shit if you live or die, Joel, and we both know that it’s not going to be you and it’s not going to be her, either,” she unbuttoned his jeans next. “So that leaves me.” 

“You think I don’t give a shit?” You asked, dropping your pack on a chair and yanking it open. “You think I keep you and him alive for fun?” 

“No, I think you do it so you can keep trying to save a place that can’t be fucking saved,” she was yelling now. 

“Tess.” 

“Shut up, Joel,” she barely glanced at him before rounding on you again. “I’m tired of being some tool in her goddamn stupid crusade…” 

“Tess.” 

“I didn’t fucking make him come with me!” You yelled back at her. “I would have gone on my own, he’s the one…” 

“You really think he’s the one who makes the decisions when it comes to you?” Tess shoved you. “You really think he’d let you run off to get yourself fucking killed? You’re an idiot sometimes, Doc, but you’re not that fucking stupid.” 

“Tess!” Joel was trying to sit up but she wasn’t paying attention. You were. You looked at him, frowning. 

“No,” she yelled, shoving you again. “No, I’m done with this shit, I’m done pretending that we’re doing fucking anything besides risking our fucking lives for some pointless…” 

“Tess!” He managed to sit up, grabbing her arm before she could shove you again. Her head spun, hair whirling, eyes narrowed. “She’s right, don’t fuckin’ blame her…” 

“She’s…” Tess shook her head. “You are so fucking stuck on her, on her bullshit, on…” 

“Get out.” 

You pulled gauze out of your pack and pressed it to the wound at his hip. 

“Are you fucking kidding me?” She gaped at him, her brows raised. 

“You can figure out how to fuckin’ respect her or you can go,” Joel said through gritted teeth. “Not gonna just let you talk about her…” 

“Her is right here,” you cut him off. “Stop talking about me like I’m not fucking here. And Joel you need to lie down before you fuck something else up, Jesus…” 

Tess looked between him and you before she shook her head and stepped back from the table. 

“Good fucking luck,” Tess snapped before stalking out and slamming the door behind her. 

You looked where she had been for a moment before nudging Joel back down onto the table. 

“You done?” You asked, brows raised. “Because I don’t need you to defend me from your girlfriend, Joel. I’m still going to keep you alive even if you both hate me.” 

“I don’t…”

“Stay still.”

He gritted his teeth and stared daggers at the ceiling while you worked on him for a moment, pressing gauze into his skin for a bit before pulling it away. 

“Don’t think you’ve hit anything major,” you said, more to yourself than to him. He still grunted in response. “Stay put, I still need to get that bullet out and get you cleaned up.” 

He followed you with his eyes as you went about collecting tools, cleaning yourself up, putting on sterile gloves. He tried to focus on you without it raising his blood pressure which, he figured, wouldn’t be the best thing to do when there was an open wound on his torso. 

But it was hard. 

It had been years with you like this. More than a decade. Thinking about you too much made his chest tight, his stomach clench. Thinking about you too much made him worry he might be having a fucking heart attack, that you just might be the death of him.

But you were still who he thought about when he needed comfort. Still where his mind went when he was in pain and he needed to remember why he should try to live through it. Still what he pictured when alone at night and he thought the loss and the emptiness of his life would swallow him whole. Still where his thoughts found when he wanted to come because nothing had ever felt as good as you. 

“Think you can sit still while I get this sucker out of you?” You asked. “Because I don’t exactly have someone here to hold you still at the moment.” 

“Just do it,” Joel squared his jaw and stared at the ceiling again. 

You were quiet for a moment before you touched his bared skin with the lightest, gloved touch. 

“I really am sorry,” you said softly. “I know… We have our issues but… I really hate seeing you hurt. I really hate getting you hurt.” 

Joel looked at you, your face drawn into a frown, your eyes sad. Even now, he thought you might be the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

“I know,” he said, looking back at the ceiling. 

You were quiet and he could feel your eyes on him before he felt you slip some kind of instrument into the wound. He hissed through the pain of it but kept still. 

“I know,” you said, voice gentle and soothing. “You’re OK, it’ll be OK.” 

He remembered you using that voice with Sarah. He came home from work once and his daughter was perched on the counter, sniffling, her face streaked with tears. You were talking to her in that voice, a wad of paper towel held against her knee. 

“You’re OK. It’ll be OK.” 

“You with me, Miller?” You asked after what felt like an eternity but knew it must have only been a few minutes. “Need a break?” 

“Just finish it,” he managed through gritted teeth. 

You found the bullet and planted your hand firmly on the softness of his stomach. 

“Hold still,” you said. “This is going to have to be kind of slow, there’s relatively little damage, nothing major hit and I’d like to keep it that way.” 

You pulled on it and he could feel you moving through him, through the gaping wound him, pulling the pain out into the open air. 

When you finished, you held the bullet up, glistening with blood. 

“The cause of all this trouble,” you said, turning it in the light. “Let me patch some of this up and make sure you don’t bleed out. I don’t think you’ll need a blood transfusion this time at least…” 

Joel frowned, lifting his head slightly as you set to work. 

“What do you mean ‘this time?’” 

You froze for half a second before you tried to brush it off. 

“Just, you know,” you said. “In general.” 

He watched you work for a moment. 

“Hey.” 

You glanced at him before looking back at his wound. 

“What?” 

“You had to give me a blood transfusion last time?” He asked, trying not to groan at the pain. 

“I didn’t want to freak you out,” you said eventually, tucking gauze into the wound. “But… yeah, you were down a lot of blood and… Look, I did what I had to do to keep you alive.” 

You cleaned up the skin around his injury. 

“Whose blood?” 

“What?” You asked, focused on the task. 

“Whose blood did you use?” He asked. “Don’t imagine you went down to the clinic so whose blood.” 

You were quiet and Joel was about to ask again when you spoke. 

“We didn’t know your blood type,” you said quietly. “So Tommy would have been the best option…” your voice trailed off but he knew that wasn’t the end. He kept watching you and you sighed before you kept going. “But I’m O- so…” 

He just blinked for a moment. 

“It was yours.” 

Your eyes darted to his for half a second. 

“Yeah. It was mine.” 

He was quiet as you pulled off your gloves with a sharp snap. 

You’d saved him. Bled for him, poured yourself into him so he would keep breathing. He’d walked around for who knows how long with you pulsing through his body and he hadn’t known. 

“You should have told me,” he said eventually. 

“Yeah, well.” 

You started packing up. 

“You should have…” 

“I couldn’t be sure that you wouldn’t fucking slit your wrists if you knew, alright?” You snapped. “You hated me. You still hate me but it was worse then, you’ve figured out how to tolerate me in the last decade which is great and all but Jesus, Joel, don’t act like telling you was the easy thing to do.” 

You threw your pack over your shoulder and he sat up, ignoring the pain at his hip. 

“I need to get home,” you said. “Try not to wreck all my work…” 

There was a pounding at the door that made you jump. Joel shoved himself off the table and quickly buttoned his shirt as he limped for the door. 

“Bag down,” he said quietly. “Stay back.” 

You nodded, obeying him for once in your damn life. 

He opened the door slowly, cautiously. A FEDRA officer stood at his door. 

“Can I help you?” Joel tried not to growl, tried not to do anything that would incite suspicion. Not that he could help that he had on a bloody shirt with a fucking bullet hole in it. 

“There’s been increase violence in a nearby quadrant of the QZ,” the man said, barely looking at Joel. “We’re requiring all residents to shelter in place until further notice. Is everyone here a member of your household or does someone need an escort home?” 

Joel saw you step toward the door, opening your mouth like you were about to speak, but he held his hand out behind him, silencing you. 

“Same household,” he said. “We’re all set here.” 

“We’ll let you know when it’s safe to leave,” the guard said. “Lock your door.” 

He left before Joel had a chance to respond and he shut the door quickly before slumping against it. 

“Joel!” You hissed, going to his side and looping an arm around his waist. He leaned against you and you helped him to the couch. “What the fuck were you thinking?”

“You really want to get a fuckin’ FEDRA escort home?” He grimaced. 

“No,” you snapped, setting him on the couch. “But do you remember how long they locked us down for last time?” 

“No.” 

“A week,” you said, sitting on the threadbare arm chair. “And I’d rather get a FEDRA escort than have you kill me out of frustration in three days because that’s how long we’ll last before you get that fed up with me.” 

“Jesus, you really think we can’t manage to not kill each other for a few fuckin’ days?” He settled into the couch. “You n’me have survived a lot worse than that.” 

You scoffed. 

“Have we?” You asked, brows raised. “Besides, aren’t you worried about Tess?” 

He shrugged. 

“She can handle herself better than you can,” he said and you rolled your eyes. “You that worried about gettin’ back to Derek?” 

“Worried about FEDRA showing up at my door to look for relief for the clinic and not finding me,” you snapped. “Should have just let them…” 

“Not gonna let you go out there with those fucking assholes if people are out there shooting at each other!” Joel cut you off. “Don’t trust ‘em with shit let alone with you! I can keep you safe here so you’re staying here, it ain’t up for discussion!” 

You just blinked at Joel for a moment, a shocked look on your face. 

“Think we can handle not strangling each other for a few damn days,” he muttered, looking away from you. He couldn’t really handle looking at you. You didn’t say anything. You just got up, grabbing your pack and stalking further into the apartment. He frowned. “Where do you think you’re goin’?” 

“Don’t want to be around you any more than you want to be around me,” you said. “So I’m going to Tommy’s room…” 

“Always liked his bed,” Joel muttered, grinding his teeth. 

You flipped him off, not bothering to even look at him before slamming Tommy’s door behind you. 

***

Day 1

Tommy needed better hobbies. 

It was clear Joel had barely used Tommy’s room since he’d left. There were some boxes for storage - things you weren’t about to go searching through since you were pretty sure it was full of black market things from smuggling runs - but otherwise it was exactly how you remembered it. Not that you’d ever spent much time here. You liked to avoid Joel and Tommy seemed to like to avoid him even more than you did when you were around. You’d slept here a few times, when Joel was outside the QZ but Tommy had stayed behind, but he was much more likely to be at your place than his. 

But this room was all but a shrine to him. Or maybe more of a mausoleum, something left in memory of someone who was gone and would never be back. You hadn’t really realized how much you’d missed your friend until you were back in his space, surrounded by his things. 

You also realized that, in reality, you didn’t have a ton in common. Tommy’s book collection was… lacking. He had a few tattered Tom Clancy novels and you settled on one that you were pretty sure he’d brought over to your place once or twice. 

It wasn’t really your thing, though, and you were desperately bored. You were going to have to emerge from the room eventually to do more than pee and refill your water bottle in the bathroom sink. You were almost out of the jerky you’d packed for your trip outside the QZ and you’d never been very good at sitting still with nothing to occupy your mind. 

But you’d need to check on Joel’s injury at some point, anyway. Because looking at the ex who seemed to mostly hate you but apparently flew off the handle at the thought of you getting shot. 

Which you didn’t fully understand. If anyone asked you, you’d have sworn up and down that Joel would shoot you in the street if it wouldn’t make his life harder. You were surprised he hadn’t all but tossed you to an infected in the years you’d been going outside the QZ but the fact that you did things like pull bullets out of him and stitch Tess’ knife wounds closed was apparently a good enough reason to keep you alive. 

You didn’t see how that was a good enough reason to keep you from leaving his apartment when the two of you were about to be locked down for who the fuck knows how long. What were you supposed to do with… well, any of it? 

Your head dangled over the edge of the bed when you spotted a ratty tennis ball in the corner. You tumbled off the bed and picked it up, oddly grateful to have something to function as a distraction and started bouncing it off the wall, catching it out of the air when it bounced back at you. 

“The fuck you doing?” Joel called at you from the other side of the wall. 

You rolled your eyes. 

“Keeping myself from being so bored that I jump out a window.” 

He was quiet for a minute. 

You threw the ball again. 

“It’s annoying.” 

You caught the ball and then threw it. 

“Should’ve sent me off with FEDRA then.” 

For a moment, you thought that might be the end of it. And then the door opened. 

He’d gotten changed, at least, his new shirt as clean and intact as you could really find in the QZ and he looked a little pale. You looked him in he eye and you threw the ball again. 

“You tryin’ to piss me off?” He asked, one arm propped against the door frame. 

You shrugged and caught the ball. 

“You just make it so fun…” 

You threw the ball again and he came and snatched it out of the air. You glared at him. 

“Are you trying to make me miserable?” You asked. “Because it’s getting really old…” 

“Is that what you think I’m doing?” He snapped. “Think I decided to come find you in my brother’s bed because it’s fun…” 

“Oh will you stop fucking harping on that?” You shoved off the bed and stalked over to him in the doorway. “It’s ancient history! Think it’s time to get over the fact that your brother decided to pick up your broken toy…” 

“You think that’s why I’m pissed?” He asked, brows raised. 

You ignored him, dropping to your knees and yanking his shirt up. He stopped breathing and you checked his wound before getting to your feet. 

“In a few hours I’ll change your dressing,” you said, looking up at him as you stood almost shockingly close to him. You could see the pulse in his throat. “Leave me alone until then.” 

He clenched his jaw, looking you up and down, before storming off, yanking the door shut behind him. 

Day 2 

You waited until you heard the bathroom door close before you emerged. You were officially out of jerky and sitting in a room full of Tommy’s things while being sharply aware that he was thousands of miles away from you was wearing on you fast. You needed something - anything - to distract you. 

So you darted to the kitchen, grabbed a bag of jerky, and paused on your way past Joel’s room, his door cracked open. If you were quick…

You opened the, the hinges creaking, and ducked inside. 

It was neat, orderly. Like you remembered it being years ago when you were together. There were little signs of him everywhere, enough that you’d have recognized the room as his even if you’d walked into it in a strange place a thousand miles away. Little carvings on the window sill, the watch you’d helped Sarah picked for his birthday gift on the nightstand, a cracked Springsteen CD case sitting next to a worn boom box. You resisted the urge to touch the booklet and see if it fell open to a specific page, if you could tell what he’d been looking for when picking that album. 

Instead, you went to the bookshelf that was collapsing, worn boards sagging between cinderblocks. You recognized Joel’s taste in books, a little more in line with your own. You found a Cormac McCarthy book you hadn’t read with a spine that looked comfortably warn and pulled it, almost reverently, off the shelf. 

“The hell you doin’?” 

You jumped, almost dropping the book and the bag of jerky. 

“Sorry…” 

“I say you could come in here?” 

He was standing in the doorway in pajamas, his pants slung low on his hips, t-shirt stretched over his broad shoulders. 

“I am bored out of my mind,” you said, squaring your jaw even though you knew you shouldn’t be in his room. “I got desperate.” 

“You think that’s a reason to just waltz in…” 

“No, but…” 

“Sure acting like it!” 

“Is hating me fun for you?” You snapped. “Because it sure seems like it is! I don’t know why you’d work this hard at it if it wasn’t.” 

He looked you up and down for a moment. 

“Just get the fuck out of here,” he stepped to the side and you ducked around him, all but running back to the room you’d claimed as your own. 

You settled in on the bed with your new book, resting it on your knees and trying to forget how mad Joel had been just because you dared set foot in his room, as though you didn’t live together once in another life. It had been so easy for him to forget. You’d been so easy for him to forget. 

You opened the book and tried to get absorbed in the story but were having a hard time focusing, shifting around on the bed and hoping that a more comfortable position might make it so you could let yourself fall into it. You were changing positions for the third time when something fell out of the book and flitted like a leaf down to the worn quilt. You frowned, picking it up and turning it over in your hands. 

It was a picture. A picture of you. 

“What?” You whispered to yourself, eyebrows knitting together. 

It was a photo you recognized. Derek had it in his bedroom and he’d taken it without you knowing. You were folded into an armchair in his living room, a book in your hands, hair wild with a ribbon in to keep it out of your face. When he’d developed the photo, you remembered the day he’d taken it. One of the few that you had off from both jobs in the QZ. It had been warm that day, you hadn’t bothered to put on a bra or even pants, sitting around Derek’s place in a pair of his boxers and a tank top. He’d fucked you that morning, before it got too hot, and the two of you spent the day not moving much otherwise, not wanting to spend hours sticky with sweat and miserable. 

The day stuck out to you, though, not because of the heat or because you got to spend it somewhere besides the clinic or the school. Instead, it was because it reminded you of summer days in Austin with Joel. Trying not to run the AC too much, you sat far apart on the couch wearing as little as possible with Sarah coming and going from the house with friends. He would bring you glasses of ice water or lemonade almost every time he got up, his lips finding your forehead when he pressed the cold glass into your palm, his large hand finding your ankle because he had to be touching you in some way without making both of you miserable in the heat. 

And now Joel had a picture from that day, the one where he’d been on your mind the whole time, so much that you’d given up on trying not to think of him. 

You weren’t sure how he’d gotten it. Derek may have given him a copy if he’d asked but you didn’t know how he knew it existed. And why would he want a copy in the first place? 

You looked a little closer at it, the corners curling, edges peeling. Like it had been held a lot. There was a discolored almost halo around the edges of you, like someone had been tracing over the outline of you over and over again. 

There was a sharp knock on your door and you stuffed the photo into the book again. 

“What?” You asked, tone softer than it had been when speaking to Joel in years. 

“Mind checkin’ this damn wound?” He asked through the door, his voice oddly gentle. “Since you’re here and all. Make yourself useful.” 

“Yeah,” you said. “Yeah, of course. No problem.” 

You made sure the photo was tucked away and set the book on the nightstand, keeping your fingers crossed that Joel didn’t realize which book you’d taken. 

***

Joel didn’t like that you’d taken to hiding in Tommy’s old room. 

He didn’t like that you were still here. Or so he tried to tell himself. Really, he didn’t like that you were still here without being here, like you were the ghost in his house in the same way it seemed you’d spent most of the last decade. You were just more corporeal now. 

He was used to you crossing his mind all the time. Used to the feeling that, any second now, you’d come around the corner as you finished braiding your hair or with a little bottle of nail polish in your hand or a book in fucking French tucked below your arm. He knew what to do with that. 

He didn’t know what to do with you actually here, in such close quarters. Especially not when you seemed to find such comfort in just the memory of his fucking brother - his brother who had damn near gotten you killed - and not Joel, who was actually here. 

Joel stared down the hall at Tommy’s - your - door. His wound ached. You’d checked it earlier, said there was no sign of infection and that things were coming along well. You refreshed his bandages and he’d try not to think about the way the soft skin of your arm felt when you brushed against his exposed flesh. 

That had been hours ago. He hadn’t heard a word from you since, not even the squeak of the mattress as you shifted and moved in ways he knew so well but couldn’t see. 

He shoved himself to his feet with a pained grunt and went to the door, the one that seemed to fucking haunt him now. He knocked once. 

“Yeah?” 

Your voice sounded thick. 

“Want a drink?” He asked. You were quiet. He pressed on. “Figured it was better than drinkin’ alone.” 

He gave you a minute and was about to give up on you responding when he heard small creaks on the other side of the door before it opened. 

“Whatcha got?” 

It took a few whiskeys before you stopped being quite so stiff at his kitchen table and Joel pulled out a deck of cards that had to have been old before the world fell apart but had somehow managed to stay complete. 

“Game’s Gin,” he said, dealing. “Remember how to play?” 

You rolled your eyes. 

“I’m not a total idiot, Miller.”

It was strange, drinking around you. Spending time with you in ways that weren’t required, being able to look at you in ways beyond brief, desperate glances driven by the subconscious need to never, ever forget just how you looked. The precise way your eyes were shaped or your brow arched or lips curved, the exact shade of your skin and your hair and your eyes. Because as much as he didn’t want to need these things, he did. He needed to know these parts of you the way a scholar needed to know his subject, with this obsessive, aching drive for more. 

It had never been enough before, the little pieces he was able to collect when you and Tess were distracted with other things and he could take in the new way your skin creased around your eyes, and it somehow wasn’t enough now, memorizing the way you pursed your lips as you organized your hand and the way your hair had fallen out of the braid that was tight against your skull. 

“Need somethin’ to change into?” Joel asked eventually. 

“Hm?” You looked at him over your cards. 

“Just…” he nodded to you. “Still wearin’ what you were when we came back from the run. Need somethin’ to change into?” 

“Oh,” you looked down at yourself and then shrugged. “I mean, I won’t argue with it but I don’t want to put you out. It’s not like anyone’s getting close enough to smell me. Oh God, please tell me you can’t smell me from across the table…” 

“No, Kid,” he laughed a little and took a sip of whiskey. “Can’t… can’t smell you.” 

He wondered if, below the grime of the world outside, you still smelled like lavender. 

“If you’ve got some stuff I can borrow then,” you shrugged before grabbing a card. Your face lit up a bit and you set a card down before fanning out your cards in front of you. “Gin.” 

“Well shit,” he said, looking over your cards. “You win.” 

Day 3 

He left you something to wear outside your door. 

Joel stared at the wall most of the night, telling himself it was because the fucking bullet hole was hurting more than it had been but that was bullshit. It had faded to a dull pain, one that was easily tolerable and certainly not enough to keep him up at night. 

No, instead he stared at the wall that he knew you were just beyond. His mind went over and over your face again and again, logging every single facet so he’d know the next time he was away from you for a while. But that wasn’t enough, either. He wanted to hear you breathing as you slept, wanted to salt away that information, too. He needed it, needed to add it to his collection of you. 

But you were out of reach. Asleep in his brother’s bed, the place where you’d chosen to be all those years ago and now left Joel wondering if you’d ever really left. If you’d ever have chosen Joel at all or if he’d just been a stop gap, a thing keeping you from Tommy all this time. 

It would have made sense, when he considered it. You were always softer and more open than Joel, always more like Tommy in that way. Maybe all he’d ever been was a placeholder. 

He was still awake when he heard you get up in the morning, heard you pause at the door before going to the bathroom and starting the shower. 

He hoped he’d find your hair in his shower later. 

Your hair was down and wet when you emerged, cautiously coming into the kitchen where Joel was making the shittiest excuse for coffee with instant packets that had expired so long ago it seemed like a miracle there was anything usable at all. You were in one of his flannels and sweatpants, the legs cuffed so you wouldn’t trip, your arms crossed tight over yourself. 

“Morning,” you said, glancing at him like he was a predator and you were prey. 

“Morning,” he said. “Feelin’ better?” 

“Yes, actually,” you said. He held a mug out to you and you took it with a slight frown. “Thank you.” 

He just nodded stiffly. 

“If you want to lie down,” you nodded toward the couch. “I can check your dressings again. The good news is, this might be the last time I really need to do it so…” 

Joel shrugged and obeyed, trying not to think about the sense of panic that flared in his chest at the thought of you not touching him anymore. 

It was something Joel had found almost impossible to hold within himself. There was this constant yearning, a pull towards you that was as persistent as gravity and twice as strong. He needed to be close enough to touch you, hold you, protect you. He needed to be close enough to love you. 

But standing in sharp contrast was the cold threat of you. The painful grip of it always there at the edges when he lived too long in the memory of loving you. It was a cruel and constant thing - one of the few constants Joel had found in his life in the QZ. He could let his mind wander to the memory of you asleep in his arms but, linger there too long, and the memory shifted to you pale and bleeding and nearly dead as he ran with your broken body to the clinic. The thought of you laughing all full and free with your hand on his chest would twist into you reaching for him and screaming as you were dragged away by raiders. Hell, spend too long trying to savor the memory of being deep inside you, the look on your face as you came undone under his touch, and his mind pulled him down into what McCarthy had described doing to you years ago. 

All it took was a second, a moment of Joel not protecting you when he should and you could wind up there again. He didn’t know how to live with that. He wasn’t sure he’d ever figured out how to live with loving you at a distance, either. Something that had become harsh and clear in the days the two of you had been locked down in his apartment. 

“This is looking good,” you said, nodding to yourself. Your hands were on his stomach.  “Think I can trust you not to fuck it up from here, don’t need me messing around with it anymore…” 

You got up and held your hand out, helping Joel sit up without pulling too much at his wound. 

“Thanks,” he said. “For making sure I don’t drop dead.” 

“Yeah, well,” you shrugged. “It’s what I do.” 

You gave him a tight smile and went back down the hall, Joel frowning after you for a moment before following. He knocked on the door and he heard you sigh before opening it a few seconds later. 

“Yes?” 

“Don’t…” Joel realized he didn’t really have a good reason to be standing at your door. “Don’t have to keep hidin’ in here. Sure you’re going stir crazy… Just come out here and…” 

“Do you really think that’s a good idea?” You asked, brows raised. “We’ve managed to not kill each other so far, I don’t know that we want to push it.” 

“You really think being in the same room is gonna be pushing it?” 

You laughed a little and crossed your arms protectively over yourself. 

“Honestly? Yeah, kind of. I mean, Joel, come on. This is the most time we’ve spent together just the two of us since my first trip outside the QZ and we both know how that ended…” 

“Yeah,” Joel scoffed, his blood getting hot as he saw you standing there, in his brother’s room, next to his brother’s bed. “Ended with you hating me and jumping into bed with my fuckin’ brother…” 

“Jesus Christ, you cannot be serious,” you pinched the bridge of your nose. “Joel…” 

“What?” He propped an arm against the door frame, holding himself back from stalking into Tommy’s old room like he wanted to. “That not what fuckin’ happened? You all but disappear for months and the next thing I know you’re with him. What was it, hm? Was I just who you settled for because you thought he wasn’t interested? That it?” 

“No!” 

“You just waitin’ for a chance to…” 

“I was only with him because you left!” 

You yelled it at him. You so rarely yelled, usually so measured and soft and kind in damn near everything you did. He went quiet, the silence hanging heavy between you. 

“Do you think I was interested in him before?” You asked, quieter this time. “It was always you, Joel. From the day I met you, it was always you and you’re the one who left me. You’re the one who made me live without you after you made me love you and you don’t get to judge me for what I did to survive you hating me. Yeah, I probably fucked up with Tommy, by having him be anything more than a friend but I was so alone because you made me be so alone! You left me, Joel! I’m sorry I didn’t sit there and wait for you to decide you gave a shit again, I’m sorry I tried to find some semblance of a life without you because losing you was going fucking kill me if I didn’t! So stop holding Tommy against me, stop blaming me for what I had to do to survive losing you, what I’m still doing to survive losing you, because out of all the shitty things that have happened in my life that might just be the worst one!” 

Your eyes were shiny with tears and you were standing closer to him than he’d really realized until that moment and his hands were on your skin before he fully understood what he was doing. All he knew was he needed to touch you, feel you, taste you. 

His lips were on yours and swallowed the small, surprised squeak that slipped from you as he kissed you, mouth hot and needy against you. 

He’d expected you to push him back, to be mad or hurt. Instead, you threw your arms around his neck, body curving and arching into his. Your fingers tangled and knotted in his hair and you pressed yourself so tightly against him that he could feel every line of you through his clothes. 

“Joel,” you pulled away from him ever so slightly, sounding needy and breathless. “We shouldn’t do this…” 

“Why.” 

“We don’t work,” you tugged him closer but kept your lips from him. “We just hurt each other. And you have Tess, I have Derek, it’s not…” 

“Tell me you don’t want this,” he cut you off, his eyes searching yours. “Tell me to stop and I’ll stop.” 

For half a moment, Joel thought you were going to. But you didn’t. Instead, you kissed him again, a sense of urgency on your lips, like you were trying to devour him and he longed for you to swallow him up until there was nothing left. 

He pulled you into the hall, pressing you back against the wall and ignoring the pain at his hip when he did. In that moment, he didn’t care if it killed him. He needed to be inside you, to feel you close and tight around him. Being without you now would be a more painful end than ripping himself open inside, what difference did a bullet hole make? 

Joel pushed his leg from his uninjured side between your knees, shoving them apart and pulling your hips down on his thigh. You ground down against him and moaned into his mouth as you worked your core on his leg. 

“Fuck,” you breathed, pulling ever so slightly away from him, your pupils blown and lips swollen. “Joel, you’re hurt, we shouldn’t…” 

“Don’t care,” he pressed his mouth to your throat, earning him a delicious moan that hung in his ears like syrup on the tongue. “Need you, Baby. Need you so fuckin’ bad…” 

You clutched yourself closer to him, rocking your hips on him as he pulled you back from the wall and maneuvered you to his room, his bed, the place he woke up every day and looked for you, some part of his subconscious knowing that he belonged next to you. 

Your fingers pulled at his shirt, tugging it up and over his head before casting it aside and he nudged you onto the bed, taking his shirt off your body, too. 

“Joel…” you were sitting back on your elbows, the soft fullness of your chest bared to him as he crawled between your legs. “I can’t… I can’t do this and go back to being nothing to you, Joel, I can’t…” 

He looked in your eyes, a pain in them that he found sadly familiar now but it was harsher than he was used to, like you couldn’t keep it contained now so it was laid bare. 

“Oh, Baby,” he breathed, his hands finding your waist. You closed your eyes at his touch, breath catching in your throat. “You’re everything to me, everything. Always have been.” 

His lips moved to your throat, kissing and biting at the tender skin there as he pulled your pants down and off, you lifting your hips to help before putting your hand down his front to take hold of his cock with a moan. Joel moaned, too. He couldn’t help it, your touch was burned into his memory, what he longed for more than anything else and you were touching him. Your thumb grazed the head of his cock and he shuddered at the contact, whole body on fire with aching and desperate want. 

“Need you,” he panted into your lips. “Fuck, need inside you…” 

“Good,” you pressed your body against his and he felt his head graze your soft mound. “Because I need you, too. Never stopped…” 

He kissed you and pushed you into the bed before pressing his cock into your wet heat. You moaned as you took him into yourself, your back arching. You were so warm and tight around him, Joel had to focus to not come from just the feel of your body clutching onto him. 

“Goddamn,” he looked down to where he was buried in you to the root, your fingers sinking into his bicep as you panted for breath. He could feel you breathing, feel your heartbeat from inside you. Why had he wasted so much of his life fighting this when he could have been with you instead? In that moment - when he was buried deep inside of you and he could feel you everywhere, in everything - the fear he’d been so desperately fighting against faded to nothing. There was just you and everything you held, the whole of all his wanting looking up at him in quiet desperation. “Forgot… forgot just how good you feel, holy fuck.” 

“Need you to move,” your nails dug into his arm. “Fuck, please Joel, need you to move, please…” 

He wasn’t about to say no, even as your already tight walls clenched around him. He dropped his head to your chest and pulled out of you almost entirely, until just his head was left within you, before thrusting back in hard and deep. He kissed you again as he did, swallowing your needy sounds. 

Joel tried to hold back, the echo of some pain in his body and his mind, but he was too overwhelmed by you for it to last long. You met his every thrust, working your hips back up against his own as he fucked into you. 

“Fuck, Joel,” you wrapped one arm around his shoulders, digging your fingertips into his skin as he felt you getting so tight around him it almost hurt. “Fuck, I’m gonna… Joel, I’m gonna come, I can’t…” 

“Do it,” he slid an arm below your waist and pulled you tight and flush to his body, needing to feel as much of your skin as he possibly could. “Come for me, come for me, Baby, need to feel you, have to feel you, fuck Baby…” 

You whimpered and keened as your tight channel pulsed around his thick cock, squeezing him so tight it was like your body was pulling his own orgasm out of him. 

“I’m comin’ Baby,” he pressed into you deep and hard and you clung to him as he came undone, emptying himself into you. “I’m comin’, fuck, I’m comin’ so fucking hard, Goddamn…” 

He collapsed on top of you, his cock still twitching inside you. He couldn’t remember the last time he came that hard, felt quite that drained when he was done. His head rested on your chest, your heartbeat heavy against his cheek as your fingers trailed through his hair and his cock softened inside you. 

“Fuck,” he was still panting for breath when he pressed a kiss to your breast bone and slid from your body, the pain at his hip suddenly back with a vengeance, as he collapsed beside you. 

“We shouldn’t have done that,” you said quietly, turning your head to look at him. 

“Baby…” 

“We shouldn’t,” you said, your voice thick. “You’re hurt…” 

“Good think you’re a doctor.” 

You glared at him. 

“We just blew up our entire lives, Joel,” you said quietly, eyes wet. “I’m with Derek and I just fucked you because, what, you loved me once and felt bad letting me get shot in the QZ? This was stupid, this was so…” 

“No,” he shook his head. 

“No?” You raised your eyebrows at him. “No what?” 

“No to all of it,” he said. “I didn’t blow up a damn thing. I just finally was able to admit to myself that there isn’t anything to blow up without you, don’t want any of it without you.” 

“Joel…” 

“Been too scared of it all to admit that,” he pressed on. “But I can’t keep living like that, Baby. I can’t. And I don’t think you can, either.

“We’ve already wasted too much damn time,” he continued. “But I’m not wasting another minute of it, not when I could be with you. Not sayin’ there’s not shit to figure out - pretty sure we got a decade’s worth of it - but don’t ask me to waste more time. Please. Not when it comes to you.” 

Your eyes held his as you reached a hand forward and carefully, delicately, cupped his cheek, your thumb tracing his cheekbone. He brushed his lips against the inside of your wrist, feeling the flutter of your pulse against his mouth. 

“Think we can figure it out?” You asked. You sounded so uncertain, so afraid. 

Joel’s large hand covered your own, holding you against his chin. 

“Yeah,” he said quietly. “With you, think we can figure anything out.”