#i just thought about kit maybe saying a little bit TOO much when drunk

[wikitpowers]

i bet kit is the cutest when he’s drunk and i imagine ty gets so shy around him bc kit is just walking around all rosy-cheeked and slurring his words and chatting silly nonsense but ty is just so captivated anyway <3

[gyllenhaalstories]

ELWOOD DALTON x PLUS SIZE!READER HEADCANONS

summary: if he can push and pull a big obnoxious yellow lamborghini, imagine what he can do!!! well, you don't need to imagine. i did it for you. but still!!!

warnings: bunch of cute things & various smut elements. chances are i'll steal some of these in my fics later on bc i love repeating myself but i felt inspired to gather the random thoughts in one place. 18+ NO MINORS.

word count: 2100

photo credit: me @/gyllenhaalstories / divider credits: @/firefly-graphics

notes: even if all my fics are written with a fat reader in mind, it just feels so good to put the emphasis on it! this is so incredibly self-indulgent and i am not sorry about it. 🥰 thank you for reading & REMEMBER TO REBLOG!

FLUFF

Dalton wears very form fitting clothes, like his vast collection of the tightest shorts imaginable that he's worn on the octagon. But you will notice a gradual shift in his clothing preferences. The more he hangs out with you, the looser his clothes will get. Especially his hoodies and his patterned shirts. You will also notice how he accidentally leaves pieces of clothing at your place when he visits. He just likes to drop hints that he wants you to wear his clothes because he wants you to wear his clothes.

The first time he catches you putting on his hoodie if you're feeling a bit chilly or wearing his flowery shirt on a hot day? He's losing it. He'll have a dumb smile on his face all day because this is a big victory just like winning a fight. Maybe even more so when you start sharing clothes casually.

Also he's large. He just is. He takes space both literally and metaphorically. He makes you feel small in the best way. He opens jars for you in a twist of his wrist, he carries all the bags in one trip after grocery shopping, he shoves the laundry basket full of heavy wet clothes on his hip and holds you close with his free arm so you can hang clothes to dry outside. When Dalton locks eyes with you, he just has a way of making you feel so much smaller than him. This size difference, whether it be literal or not, feels good. It feels right. He will never shut up about it, if you ever tell him that you like the size difference. He might love it as much as you.

One of his love languages is you tending to his injuries and wounds. The lovely sound of your voice as you reprimand him and tell him he's too old to break into fights at any minor inconveniences. The gentle touch of your hands when you're cleaning him up with a washcloth and wincing at how much it must hurt... Except it barely hurts anymore he's just so used to it, although he might say it does so you baby him a little more. The adorable band-aids you put on him that he wears like a badge of honour. Eventually, you learn to carry a first-aid kit with you as often as you can. Just in case.

Beach dates. Did I say beach dates? Beach dates. He loves them. Dalton loves to hang out by the ocean and watch the sun rise and set. He loves it even more when you're with him. Holding hands or with his arms wrapped around you, he loves to share this moment with you. It feels so intimate. You can see him in his most peaceful and relaxed head space where the chaos of the Road House doesn't seem to affect him. He could stay there with you forever, with your feet in the water and the ocean breeze tickling your face.

He'd love to invite you to hang out at the Road House during his shifts, but he rarely lets you visit him at work. He's scared you will get injured or hurt by one of the drunk idiots or worse. He prefers to know you are safe and sound, far away from all the danger.

Dalton still tries to spend a lot of time with you. He likes it when you drive his car around and he can just be the passenger princess and enjoy the view, which means you. He likes it when you cook meals and desserts he hasn't had in forever due to years of intense training and strict diets. He'll always be around you to taste the food or steal a bite of a burning hot cookie that is fresh out the oven. The small things are very important for him.

Small things like slapping your butt when he walks behind you, and you doing the same when the roles are reversed. Small things like going shopping for the most obnoxious shirts that scream elderly dad on vacation vibes. Small things like dropping him off and picking him up when he works at the Road House. Small things like bringing you with him when he trains so that you can just exist in his presence, within a safe distance, and so that you can look at him when he gets all hot and sweaty. Small things like you laughing at his jokes about how everyone seems a little aggressive when he casually beats people up for a living. Small things like telling you that you smell so good and getting new perfumes so when he wears his clothes and you were his, he gets to carry your smell all day long. Small things like looking at you with big doe eyes and a dumb little grin on his face because he likes you so much. He likes the little things, because so often in his life he was living on the edge and he was depraved of those calm, harmless, insignificant little droplets of happiness.

What is the most important thing for him? Protecting you. He is so protective of you. Dalton wants to make sure you are safe and that you aren't involved in any shenanigans he gets himself into. He wants to make sure that nobody and nothing can hurt you. He's quick to remind anyone who crosses your way that they should be minding their own business. It may cause some issues between you, you have to remind him that you are a grown adult and that you can take care of yourself. He believes you, he knows you're strong and capable of anything you want to achieve, but he can't fight his protective instincts. He takes your security and your well-being very seriously. He wants you to know that he cherishes you, that he loves you and that he cares for you.

SMUT

Dalton is a big fan of proving you wrong, but with gentle persuasion. When the two of you start hooking up and dating, he will not put on too big of a show because he's scared to hurt you. He'll start slow, let things escalate at their own pace. He'll pull you closer by the hand for a kiss, surprising you by how he does that so effortlessly. He'll bring your body closer and wrap his arm around you to keep you pressed against him while you cuddle. He'll pull on your ankles to get you closer to the edge of the bed. He'll flip you over on the bed after a little warning that barely gives you enough time to register what he did. He'll hook his arms under your thighs to stop you from squirming away after he makes you cum and he doesn't want to stop just yet.

As much as he wants to chase the high, to show you just how much he can do and how far he can take you, he does it all gradually. He checks in often, maybe too many times at first. Tons of "are you alright? you good, you wanna continue? did it hurt, are you okay?" will be spoken to make sure he doesn't hurt you accidentally. He'll be careful not to hurt you, unless you ask him to.

He's flexible and he will adjust to your body. He'll make it work. You don't have to worry about it. If he can hold his opponent down like a pretzel until they tap out, he certainly can do the same to you. He'll push on your thighs to hold your legs down. He'll spread your pussy open and grunt at how you react when his nose bumps against your clit or when you whimper while he licks your puffy pussy lips. He'll pull on the skin of your cheeks to keep your ass open so he can access what he craves. He'll praise you when you help him, making it easier for him to fuck you good like you deserve.

On the topic of flexibility, he'd love to help you out with yours if you want to. He'll teach you exercises and show you how to relax your body. He'll also respect your limitations. You won't catch him be mad when you say your stomach is in the way or that you struggle to ride him so he has to use you as a fleshlight while you're on top. However, you will catch him rolling his eyes if you say you can't open your legs wider while he knows full well that you do when he's fucking you.

He loves when you sit on his face, no matter how many times he must remind you that he can take it, that you won't hurt him, that he can hold his breath long enough until you coat his tongue with your wetness. He enjoys every second of it.

He's loud. Dalton is a grunter. He grunts when he's fucking you deep with slow but rough thrusts. He grunts when he pulls out so he doesn't cum too fast at the heavenly feeling of your pussy on his hard cock. He grunts when he feels you gag around his cock. He grunts when he tastes your pussy on his tongue and feel your clit pulsate while he sucks on it. He's so fucking loud and he will do whatever he can to make you as loud as him. He wants you to get lost in the moment and forget about your fears and insecurities. He wants you to ride the waves of your orgasms with him until both of you forget how to speak and you can't take it anymore.

The things he must have seen and touched during his career in the UFC make it so that he's unbothered by extra skin to move around, or pretty much anything of the sort. He'll find a way to always make it work and he won't complain. In fact, he loves it. He loves feeling your body on him. He loves the skin-to-skin contact, the closeness. The sweat, the friction, the more he gets the more he wants.

He swells with pride and happiness when he sees you trying to process of the aftermath. Out of breath, flustered, shocked, stuck somewhere between needing three business days to recover and wanting to do it all over again right away. He loves seeing you fucked out of your mind, blissful and satisfied. Dalton loves knowing that he's the one helping you get there, helping you feel so good.

And he knows you love admiring him just as much. The feeling of worship is very much so mutual. He adores the marks, pearls of sweat and trails of euphoric tears he leaves on you. And you adore to watch his muscles and veins bulge after he's had his way with you.

Unlike his trainings of his fights, he doesn't end up in a human sized bucket of ice, but he loves the ritual of cleaning up in the shower or taking a bath with you. He loves to gently touch your body, paying close attention to where his hands might have left bruises earlier. He loves to show you his love with his touch rather than with his caring words or worried questions. It makes Dalton's heart flutter when you do the same, when you soap up his toned body and you wash away the mess of sweat and cum you made together. It often ends up with the two of you going at it again, or simply just jerking each other off with no intention to cum but rather to just feel closer and relax while the hot water heals your bodies.

To put it briefly, Dalton is built for the plus size girlies. He's got the strength, he's got the stamina. He's got it all to make you feel good, to make you feel like you're the hottest person alive because, to him, you very much so are. He cares for you and wants to make you feel comfortable. The more he explores your body and the more he discovers what you love and how to make you moan louder and cum harder, the freakier he will become. Dalton likes it hot and dirty, but he also loves it deep and passionate. He's gonna adapt to what you like and what you can physically do. He's gonna put in the work. He's gonna do what it takes to make you cum so hard you feel like he knocked you out in the best way possible.

[hannahssimblr]

Night descends upon us and yet, as usual, the stars don’t shine brightly the way that they did last summer when our bonfire roared under clear, sparkling skies. I think of that night now as I sit on a patch of cool earth in the dunes above Dollymount Strand surrounded by rusting cans and the sun-bleached wrappers of discontinued chocolate bars.

I remember the balmy air of late July, how I didn't even heed it until now when the night is still too cold to sit out in yet we all pretend it isn't. Anyway, it’s too late to point it out to the crowd that's already gathered here, drinking and playing music from a speaker that crackles every time the bass gets too loud, so I sit as close as I can to the flames without climbing into the pit with them, and let their heat lick over my skin. 

I share a few beers with a big, severe looking boy next to me for a while. He's got silver spikes protruding from his lip, and high cheek bones that make his face look kind of gaunt and hollow like a Tim Burtonesque character. We called him Lurch at school, because he’s also about six foot five and rake thin, but tonight I learn that Lurch’s real name is Rob, and actually, Rob is a very nice person.

He talks to me about music for ages, about his drum kit and how the neighbours keep complaining to his parents about the noise. I tell him that I’ve always wished I was musical but I have absolutely no sense of rhythm. I’m kind of a loser like that, despite my dreams of being that guy with the guitar who impresses all the girls, but I have long since accepted that I will settle to be a humble music-recommender instead. Jen still keeps all of the silly mix tape CDs I made for her in primary school in her room, and it gives me an inexplicable sense of worthiness whenever I spot them.

Never once during my conversation with Rob do I tell him about the Lurch thing, though it crosses my mind several times. What seemed so funny once in the confines of my little group seems kind of obviously mean now, but I suppose I never took the time to think about it before.

Katie is nice too, the girl with a stammer who snorts when she laughs, which is often once she joins in our conversation, because she seems to think my stories are very funny, as does Rob, and I have to tell them not to laugh so hard because it only encourages me to put myself in more situations that might be entertaining to retell later on. They think that's funny too, but actually, I am being serious.

Still, I know they’ll love that one about the time I was using the desert as a toilet and a military helicopter flew overhead, convincing me that my great aunt’s busybody neighbour had called the FBI to report me for public urination, so I make sure to tell it in the most energetic way I can. It’s easier and way more fun to reveal embarrassing things about myself when I’m drinking, and by the time I have finished telling it, I toss my empty bottle to my feet where four others already lie. I hadn’t even realised I had drunk that much, but who cares when I feel this good.

“Jesus, you’re so funny,” Katie says once her giggles have subsided, “I can’t believe we all thought you were an arsehole.”

“You thought that?”

“Not really,” Rob assures me, “We just thought you were… like, a bit…”

“...of an arsehole,” I finish, and he’s clearly being polite so he denies it, but he shouldn’t bother, really, because I already know how I am. I'm aware of the things I’ve said and done to other kids for the sake of relieving my crushing, constant boredom, never really thinking about the consequences beyond ‘it will be funny’. Maybe I should say I’m sorry. 

“Nah you’re right, I’m kind of a horrible bastard,” and I laugh at myself, which gives them permission to do so too, albeit awkwardly.

“You’re not, you’re not,” Rob assures me, “You definitely weren’t the worst of the guys in our year…”

I want to ask him who is the worst, purely for the satisfaction of hearing him say that it’s Fitzy, or Murphy or Breener or any of those other awful, rugby wanks, but I don’t because someone coming through the grass has derailed my train of thought. 

“What’s she doing here?” 

I have interrupted Rob and now he’s blinking in surprise as he turns to where Leah, fucking Leah, is approaching us. 

“Uh, she comes to talk to Evan sometimes,” he explains, “just for like, a few minutes usually and then she heads off. Do you know her?”

“Yeah.”

I watch with a clenched jaw as she and Evan disappear into the darkness for a few minutes, and pop open a brand new beer bottle as Rob and Katie chat as I sit between them having lost all of my sense of fun in an instant. I’m also drunk, if not very much getting there judging by the slightly blurry flames that dance exotically in front of my eyes. I have a dim thought that it’s probably a good idea to stop drinking if I plan on seeing Jen later. I doubt Michelle’s parents will be too pleased if I show up steaming drunk at their door…

“Oh my God, Jude, I didn’t expect to see you here!” Leah is back and standing right over me. I don’t even bother to look up at her face, and instead just stare at her ratty Vans that I’m almost certain are the same pair she wore when we used to hang out two years ago, and they were ratty back then.

“Yep,” I say. She sits down so closely to me in the sand that I can smell her distinct, Leah smell. She doesn’t smell bad, just like an unpleasant sensory memory. 

“How are you?”

I clear my throat, “Are you buying drugs from teenagers now? Is that what it’s come to?”

“Oh, I thought you already knew how Evan and I knew each other.”

“No.”

“Well, mister policeman, it’s just weed,” she pulls the baggie I saw earlier out of her jacket pocket, “We can even smoke some together now if you like.”

“Weed makes me sick.”

“I remember that! Ha!” She offers it to Rob and Katie who both decline and exchange alarmed looks over our heads.

“Are you going to sit here all night?” I ask her, and even to my own ears it’s unbelievable how rude I am to her, but I don’t care, she deserves it, and it’s not like she even seems to register my tone anyway, she’s always been completely oblivious to what people think about her. She’s that person who hangs around at the party for way too long and keeps bringing up conversations that everyone stopped talking about ages ago. 

“Jude and I go way back,” Leah explains to Katie beside her, “I met him when he was, what,” a nudge to my arm, “thirteen?”

“Twelve.”

“We used to be friends, back when he was fun.”

I scowl and she drapes herself over my shoulder with an effortless laugh as though she somehow believes this is our usual banter, “I’m joking, he’s still so fun! And cute!” She tries to grab my face and I shake her off insistently so she settles for fisting a hand in the front of my sweatshirt to hold me hostage instead, “Isn’t he, though?” she presses poor, sheepish Katie who explodes in a ferocious blush. “Would you say he’s the cutest boy at school?”

“I- I don’t know,” Katie stutters. 

“Well guess what! I got to be the lucky girl who took his virginity!”

I rip her off me but she comes back at me with more grabbing hands and tickling fingers, “Ooh! It’s true, isn’t it? Isn’t it Judie? Oh, isn’t it?”

I wrench her off me with finality and clamber to my feet, my heart beating, my stomach queasy, “Leave me alone, okay?” I bend down to swipe my beer bottle out of the hollow I made for it in the sand and even then she tries to touch my hair. It infuriates me. “I’m serious! Piss off!” I spit.

“Oh God, mister grumpy!” She says as I stagger around the bonfire to get away from her and everything that she represents. I’m definitely drunk now, it's in my sluggish movements, the way my eyes drift unfocussed from person to person, but being drunk is preferable to remembering Leah as vividly as I would if I were perfectly sober. Right now, it is just snippets of an evening three years ago that play through my mind. The week I turned fourteen, and the hard, frozen November ground by a swing set. The things I wasn’t sure if I really wanted to do but thought knew I should by then, and Leah, and the heat of her skin, the smell of her sweat, the hyper fixation I had on that piece of bark mulch I felt tangled in her hair which somehow became the strongest memory of all, something that I still associate with her when I feel the sharp dig of something in my palm.

When I don't see her I don't think of these things, so I circle the bonfire until she is invisible, obscured by the roaring flames and swallowed by the darkness.

Beginning // Prev // Next

[frogtanii]

memories were a fickle thing. oikawa was never one to dwell on the past but recently, that’s all he’d been doing.

ever since most of the house suddenly... removed themselves from meiko, tooru had had more time on his hands than ever before.

he filmed his videos, maybe went to go pester iwaizumi a bit (when he didn’t have his hands full with management), and then waited for that one day a week where he got to let loose for a bit and drop his inhibitions.

kyōtani and yahaba were the best companions for the job — kyō was intimidating and mean looking which scared away any creeps and yahaba tended to be funny and sarcastic which alleviated any possible tension that could’ve crept up.

all in all, they were a great trio, perfect for distracting one another from whatever was going on in their lives.

of course, they had to deal with kyōtani’s inadvertent panty-dropping but with a couple of snide remarks from tooru and yahaba, they were golden.

oikawa enjoyed his time with them, because when he was out there, in the club surrounded by his friends and other drunk, sweaty people, he didn’t have to think. he didn’t have to remember.

he didn’t have to think about why meiko seemed to be so keen with his best friend and not him. he didn’t have to remember the countless times he cried himself to sleep because he just wasn’t good enough, why wasn’t he ever good enough??

but now, the object of his pain and inferiority was coming with him, invading his last safe haven where she didn’t exist. his escape door was closing and as dramatic as he felt, he knew that this would be the end of something, something he genuinely cared about.

tooru sighed, his eyes falling upon his face in the mirror. he looked great (obviously), but something akin to regret and fear swam in his brown orbs.

ugh. that’s so not what he was going for. more glitter?

of course, the answer is always more glitter. digging through his makeup drawer, oikawa pulled out one of his more extensive (and expensive) eyeshadow palettes along with his blending brush and opened it up, spreading a hefty amount of turquoise glitter across his eyelid.

a loud knock sounded at his door, jolting his hand and sending a streak of pigment smearing across his cheek. “fucking hell,” tooru muttered, placing the brush and eyeshadow down before opening his bedroom door.

out in the hall stood meiko, clad in a way too short, way too slutty, hot pink dress, uneven fishnets, and 6 inch stilettos that she could barely walk in.

internally, oikawa was cringing at the foundation crumbling by her bright red lipstick and the concealer flaking around her black eye but he kept it together, too tired to deal with her bitching about his response to her appearance.

instead he stepped aside to let her into his room, her eyes trailing all over his (clearly superior) outfit as she stumbled into the doorway.

“is that what you’re wearing?” oikawa suppressed his eye roll at the question as he nodded, moving back towards his mirror to wipe off the stray glitter from his cheeks.

meiko scoffed, plopping down on his bed like she owned it while running a hand through her tacky extensions. “okay but isn’t the glitter a bit... much? like, you aren’t gonna get girls that way,” she tittered, tapping her acrylics on tooru’s 800 thread count bedsheets. “like, i love the lgbt or whatever but you look like super gay.”

oikawa tensed in front of the mirror for a split second before reaching down and grabbing his lipgloss just to spite her. “oh do i? funny how i just happen to be a member of the lgbt or whatever and just so happen to also be attracted to men. funny how that turns out, huh?”

he could hardly keep the venom out of his voice, earning him another annoyed scoff and an eye roll. “i said no offense.”

no, you didn’t, tooru thought, but he didn’t bother voicing this, knowing that in the end it didn’t matter. he could never be just the guy she wanted (macho, tall, big arms *cough cough* iwaizumi) and to be frank, he was kind of tired of trying.

“are you ready to go?” he asked, pulling on a couple rings and throwing on his chains and necklaces. a quick glance over to miss newborn deer revealed her picking her thong out of her ass and he internally groaned.

this was going to be hell.

“this is hell!” oikawa yelled over the music to his two companions while meiko was conveniently lost to the bathroom — something about needing to “refresh her smell” before meeting kyōtani.

yahaba gave him a concerned look while kyō made an understanding hum, gazing out onto the dance floor with his drink in his heavily tattooed hands.

if kyōtani wasn’t one of his best friends and unfortunately entirely straight, oikawa would’ve definitely hit that and he completely understood why meiko wanted to but kyō was a hard nut to crack. he rarely took women from the club home with him because although he didn’t seem like it, he was a hopeless romantic, a sucker for domesticity and a ring on a finger.

tooru was once like that, long before meeting meiko. he wanted to be with someone he was comfortable with, who he didn’t have to worry about anything with so he could just focus on the little things but as time went on, he became more and more cynical.

everyone who wanted to be with oikawa, wanted to do so for his looks or his fame and once he finally found someone who he thought would actually be the one, she was pulled away to be with other people (he wasn’t enough to keep her).

“hey,” kyōtani’s gruff voice knocked tooru out of his thoughts, kyō’s hand coming to rest on his shoulder. “you think too much. stop.”

oikawa couldn’t stop the grin from spreading across his face, earning him a small smile from his fuzzy headed friend. kyō was a man of few words but he always knew exactly what to say to get tooru out of his head.

a gift, truly.

actually this whole place, these people were gifts and he wasn’t going to allow meiko, the wicked bitch of the west, take it away from him. not if he had anything to say about it.

besides, if anyone could crush meiko’s spirit, it would be none other than kyōtani kentarou.

℗ poker face

a gift, truly

series masterlist

(●’◡’●)ﾉ

an - well! this ended up wayy more kyōtani heavy than i originally planned but i’m lichrally in love w him??? i couldn’t Not but anyways!! in case u didn’t gather it, oikawa is bi!!! v hot v sick && thus officially begins his arc!!! don’t forget to feed me <33333

taglist - if your name is in bold, i cannot tag you

@boosyboo9206 • @geektastic84 • @elianetsantana • @trashy-simp • @infinitebells • @6mattsun9 • @suhkusa • @sazunari • @kotarosbabygirl • @fucktheworlddude • @insomniacwreck • @calumsfringe • @saltylettuce • @chai-blu • @al3x1ss • @hawksyoongi • @syndellwins • @jooleuuh • @amberalisa • @kissungjae • @liberhoe • @tetsurocore • @animeoverdosee • @duhsies • @saikishairclip • @afire24 • @premiyagi • @kit-kat428 • @doctorspencereid • @daphnxy • @kyomihann • @maer-333 • @sinoflust19 • @peteunderoos • @peachiikichu • @iidanotlida • @yongboxerrr • @kac-chowsballs • @tanakaslastbraincell • @memorableminds • @risjime • @starry-magicshop • @sugavwara • @smuttyanimeslut • @kiwibirbs-library • @haijkk • @airybnb • @babierin • @iwaisa • @decaffinatedtealover • @notameera • @kawaii-angelanne • @rintarovibes • @urlocalsimp

the rest of the tags will be in the replies!!

[sukirichi]

— falling out of love with gojo satoru

warnings: angst, mentions of sexual content, cursing

masterlist !

when you fell in love with gojo satoru, your heart exploded like a firework.

you still remember that moment very vividly at the back of your head. it was new year’s, and you two were drunk on both liquor and the feeling of having the other by your side. it was a tough year – as the norm was for jujutsu sorcerers – but you both made it out alive.

alive couldn’t even begin to describe how you felt that day.

satoru has always been the person who stuck by your side through thick and thin like how you were the one who always went against the higher-ups when they tried to limit his capabilities. you should’ve known then, that the higher ups were just the beginning. that when once you thought their oppression for satoru’s plans were nothing but microscopical compared to the barrier his family had placed between the both of you.

they didn’t like you.

he was a gojo, the strongest jujutsu sorcerer, while you were...well, you.

you weren’t really anyone special or better than anyone. your technique was decent and had a lot more drawbacks than advantages that you had to improve your physical abilities instead to not be deemed a total useless tool.

satoru never saw you that way. to him, he admired you almost as equally as he cherished his best friend, suguru, so much so that the three of you become the best of friends in the blink of an eye. the more time you spent together, whether alone or with others, it felt like your world just hyper focused or snapped into tunnel vision, zeroing on no one else but the white-haired man whose smile was brighter than any other in the sky.

when he told you he loved you, you couldn’t distinguish which ones were the exploding new year fireworks or the drumming of your heart. you stared up at him then, lips falling open as you released a tiny breath of air, and satoru laughed. he actually laughed.

you wanted to tease him, to punch him even though you couldn’t really ever touch him just to get over the fact he had you losing your composure with eyes glossing over. “well,” he taunted then, one shoulder lifting up lazily. “aren’t you gonna say anything? if you feel the same way, now’s the best time to tell me. we can end the year as friends and start another one as-”

satoru never got to finish his sentence. you had jumped into his arms faster than the speed of light, hands yanking down his yukata to pull him towards you, your lips slamming on his almost greedily.

he didn’t mind. he never did.

for once, it felt as if his infinity never existed. you had both spent the night tangled under the sheets, your name rasped from his lips like a prayer. the way you kneeled for him just moments later with your eyes fervently closed made him feel like he’s the one being worshipped instead, and in a way, it was. you loved him – way too much that you no longer cared how much it would hurt the day after when he never gave you a break and kept you pulled closer to him.

you loved him – way too much that you no longer cared how much it would hurt if ever the time came that you no longer felt the same.

contrary to how you fell for him, you fell out of love with your best friend quietly. your shared apartment would still be filled with his annoying mannerism of dragging his feet over the floor as he walked, always groaning and complaining that he was hungry but never really bothered to cook anything for himself.

it felt a lot like living with a child where you were his mother, but in that sense, satoru hated it whenever you worried for him.

“you’re not my mother, stop telling me what to do!”

“stop being so arrogant, satoru!” you pointed to the barely conscious child in his arms, the first year student still barely breathing because satoru had gone out of his way again and brought yuuji while he fought a special grade curse. “you may be strong, but not everyone around you is capable of handling what you can! stop dragging people into your mess and start using your goddamn brain for once!”

“you don’t know anything, so shut the hell up.”

you scoffed, hands placed on your hip while you blinked back the angry tears that threatened to fell. you worried for yuuji, you really did, but in reality, you just couldn’t handle seeing gojo pushing himself to his limits and coming back home more wounded than the night before.

“i’m just worried for you, satoru. i don’t want you getting hurt.”

“i’m the strongest,” was all he said – was what he always kept saying. “i’m not going to get hurt.”

“you may not,” you reply stiffly, “but what about me? don’t you think about me? don’t you think about how much it hurts me to see you this way?”

you told yourself you hated him. you hated how arrogant he got. it was good he was confident of his abilities and prided himself of such an honourable title, but satoru was human. he was bound to fall at some point.

eventually, you got too tired.

it was too tiring to keep waiting for him to come home unscathed. you were assigned different missions all the time. satoru would always be working overseas while you mostly helped train the kids and exorcised curses from time to time; no missions that were as dangerous as his.

in the dead of the night, when you were turned away from him in your bed that had already gotten so cold from his usual absence, satoru would slip beside you as silently as he could. the morning afterwards would always be the same: good morning, did you sleep well? he knew the answer. he knew you never slept well without him, but he’d ask just to be nice, and it wouldn’t take too long before you’re both late to work because he missed you too much from being away all the time that he wanted to feel you clamp around him one more time.

it was tiring. too tiring.

that heavy weight never left your shoulders. you cried yourself to sleep far too much that you’d lost count – until you reached a point you just felt nothing. the bed no longer felt cold – just empty. his side always remained untouched, his chair in the dining table barely used, and you’ve gotten so used of washing only your plate and utensils that you wondered if satoru had ever been there.

you wondered if it was a coping mechanism; that maybe you could just no longer handle the pain of having to worry about him every damn night and he’d never care enough to at least be a little more careful, and this was why you just stopped missing him, which was why you just started enjoying the silence in your apartment a little bit more than you should.

but if it was a coping mechanism...why did you feel a lot freer and happier in his absence? instead of it feeling like you were supposed to be distracted, you felt awakened. alive.

alive in the same way he told you he loved you while the skies painted different hues of red, blue, green, and yellow in the darkness that bore witness to your souls connecting that night – the same sky that was now patiently watching as your souls split in half and formed itself whole all over again.

contrary to how you fell for him, you fell out of love with your best friend quietly.

there was no longer someone singing made up songs in the shower. there would no longer be that sound of an annoying loud kiss down the bride of your neck or the smacking of his palm on your ass when he wanted to piss you off.

you fell out of love him so silently that when he crawled next to you that night, you didn’t even hear him. and for the first time in a long time, you slept well the moment he left before the sun stretched its wings across the horizon. when you were greeted by nothing but your own pair of slippers outside your bedroom and not even a post it note to tell you he’d already left for work, a smile tugged on your face.

you made your breakfast in peace. satoru no longer dared to come back home if he was injured because he knew you wouldn’t care enough to fix him up.

although of course you would, but nothing ever beats in your heart for him anymore when you dab the disinfectant across his cut lips. satoru would catch your wrist then to tug you to him slowly, empty eyes staring back at his sky blue ones.

“thank you. for patching me up.”

“you’re welcome,” you’d smile, climbing off his lap while closing the first aid-kit. “go get changed. i’ll cook something up for you.”

it was a silent, empty routine. satoru would thank you for fixing him up because he was never every sorry for worrying you. he’d keep being reckless again and again until he reached a point you no longer cared for him enough to say goodbye to him with a kiss and the slow, tender promise of be safe – i’ll wait for you to come home.

you still kiss him – more out of habit than anything – but you’ve changed.

i’ll see you tonight.

it was empty, silent, completely different from the fireworks he’d ignited within you when he told you he loved you. satoru wasn’t dumb, and he didn’t need his six eyes to see that you’ve grown too comfortable over the large space between you and him between the sofa, almost as if him being away was what felt home for you.

he was never a confrontational man; he hated each waking moment that lead to this, but he had to do it. he needed to do it – to set you both free.

when the commercials started playing, satoru lowered the volume down, voice low and serious as he turned to you. you easily picked up on the sudden tension in the room – the first thing you’ve felt ever since you’ve fallen out of love with him – yet nothing changed. when satoru sighed, your heart didn’t ache.

“well,” he chuckled nervously as he leant back to his side, “things have changed, don’t you think?”

“yes.” there was no point denying it. you knew it – he felt it.

“what do we do now?”

you had no answer to his question. despite the fact you no longer looked at him the same way, not once had it crossed your mind to leave your apartment. not because you wanted to hold on as much as possible to whatever memories you shared under this roof, but simply because you didn’t know where else to go.

it wasn’t like it made a difference anyway. satoru barely came home, and when he did, he made his presence as scarce as possible that you could no longer tell what difference it would make if he was here or not.

“i don’t know,” you admitted, knees hugged to your chest. “what do you want to do?”

his answer came in the form of opened doors. you leant against the doorframe, watching as nanami and even yuuji came to help satoru move his stuff out of the apartment. he found a better place somewhere in the upstate, somewhere much closer to bars and clubs – which you know he thoroughly enjoyed it prior to meeting you – and your mind immediately went back to the time you and satoru first moved in.

it proved to be a difficult task. you both wanted to move in and finish unpacking as soon as possible, but satoru was too eager to christen each part and corner of the house that you both ended up making more mess.

nights spent tucked into each other because the heater was broken and you were both too tired to sleep anywhere except the uncomfortable mattress played like a broken record in your mind. satoru’s laughter echoed when nanami complained that he should stop spending money on souvenirs so he could’ve hired professionals to help him move out instead, your head snapping up at the source of that carefree, sweet laugher that always had butterflies erupting in your stomach.

as if feeling your gaze on him, satoru’s eyes flitted to where you stood. when he smiled, you could tell each genuine apology rang behind it – all the words he never got to say staying like a broken glass that kept cutting him over and over again.

he loved you. he still loves you.

and maybe, tucked away in the deepest parts of your heart that no longer felt fond of him the same way it did before, still held a little compassion enough for this man you once wanted to spend your life with.

you weren’t unkind. you didn’t need to love someone to know when to forgive them, but just for this moment, just for him, you could pretend to for one last time.

smiling up at him with your eyes crinkled and the last bits of adoration for everything about him gleamed through your lashes just before it slipped away into nothingness. it was enough. it was enough for satoru to know he’d been forgiven, and it was enough for him to finally set you free.

the next time you saw him at school, there were no longer fireworks.

your heart was at peace.

[doyouknowbtsswag]

Discs|Tommyinnit|

(Takes place as actual Minecraft)

Tommy adored listening to Music since he was younger because of his older brother, Wilbur. Tommy's childhood was something special to him. He had a loving family which consisted of a father and two older twins. His father better known as Philza Minecraft was the perfect father, he was protective of his children and made sure they weren't hurt. His older twins were almost like different people. Technoblade always had his guard up and never really shown his emotional side except when he needed to, which never really happened. Techno also loved Greek Mythology and could quote almost every story by heart. Wilbur was more into making songs and singing he never really enjoyed violence, so he would play on his guitar while Techno trained.

Aside from his family life he had two best friends which were just as important. Tubbo was his right-hand man and was the first person to talk to him. His other best friend, Y/n was the person who he could always lean on and wasn't afraid to show his raw emotions. Sure he wanted to show his tuff side but the day you saw him cry was the time Tommy realized he could rely on you the most. Don't get me wrong he could rely on Tubbo as well but he made sure to put on a tough act for the boy because of his family life.

Tubbo's family was not the best, his father would always yell and neglect him, let's not leave out the fact that he's a drunk. His father always likes that but after his mom died his dad was heartbroken and it affected him he didn't pay attention to how his son felt. Being 6 years old and his mother passing away Tubbo didn't have the best childhood. So Tommy made sure Tubbo could lean on him.

Tommy was certainly the ring leader of the gang. He always suggested pranks and decided on games to play. Tommy wasn't happy he was younger than Tubbo but was happy he was older than Y/n. He always felt the need to protect you with every strength he could muster. His favorite game showed that. They played a game many kids played, the Knight, Princess, and the villain. Of course, Tommy was the knight and you were the princess tubbo would be the villain but sometimes Wilbur would play with them. Wilbur being 11 towered over them and was much stronger than the little kids which would make it 10 times more fun.

On his 7th birthday, he had a small party nothing too big, just his family, you and Tubbo. Tubbo couldn't get him much so he made Tommy a bandana. Even though Tubbo felt bad he couldn't give Tommy anything grand Tommy appreciated the bandana and put it around his neck showing Tubbo he liked it. Wilbur, Techno, and Phil gave him a copy of the family photo. It was rare to be able to take a photo so getting a copy of one made it just as great of a gift. Then the final gift was from you. You knew he loved music so you tried to get at least one rare Disc, but you managed to get two.

He stared at the Discs in amazement quickly running to the old jukebox his father owned. He put in the disc Cat. He smiled at the sound of the music, let's just say it was his favorite birthday gift he ever got. He hugged you which made you blush but you hugged back smiling. The others were awed at the sight. Wilbur managed to take a quick picture and made a mental note to get it printed out. It cost a lot but the now 12-year-old would do anything for his little brother.

A few months later Tommy woke up to arguing between his brothers and father. He silently stepped down the stairs making sure to go as slow as possible.

"What is up with you lately dad! All you do is stay in your room! You left us to take care of Tommy ever since you got that stupid letter a few months ago! Tommy hasn't noticed because of us!" Techno whisper yelled trying not to wake up Tommy which was a little too late.

"Not only that but you try to redeem yourself by giving us small gifts! Sure I appreciate it but I know why you're doing it! You don't want anyone noticing you've been acting suspicious lately" Wilbur crossed his arms.

"Keep it down you're gonna wake your brother" Phil whispered trying to stall the sudden outburst by the twins.

Tommy ran upstairs quietly putting clothes on to run to your house. He climbed out his window carefully. He would occasionally climb out his window if he was grounded to walk to Tubbo's house or your house. Right now he was on the way to yours.

It took him 10 minutes to get to your house. He grabbed a small pebble and threw it at your window. He threw 2 more before you opened the window looking down at the boy.

"Tommy what are doing here," I said watching the boy climb up to my window. He looked upset. Sitting in my bed.

"They're fighting again..."

"Whos fighting?" I asked sitting next to him.

Tommy was looking down tears streaming his face.

"My brothers and dad" He whispered. "It happened last week too but it wasn't that bad but they've been fighting more recently and I don't like it" The 7-year-old sniffled.

"Do you know what they were arguing about?" I asked placing my hands gently on his.

"My dad has been acting differently apparently" He sighed wiping his tears " I didn't notice but apparently it's so obvious to Techno and Wilbur"

"Maybe your dad is working on something really important," I said not knowing how to fully answer.

"Probably" He muttered

"Hey, I know how to cheer you up!" I said running over to one of my chests.

I looked through a few chests trying to find a music disc to play for Tommy. When I finally found it I ran to the Jukebox and put it in the slot. The disc played Chirp throughout the room. I look over and saw Tommy smiling just a bit.

"How do you have so many Discs," Tommy asked standing up walking to the Jukebox.

"My grandpa had a bunch before he died, he gave them all to me because when I was younger all we did was listen to the discs" I smiled at the memory.

"So why did you give Cat and Mellohi to me?" He asked

"Because your my favorite person in the world" I looked at him smiling I could see his face turn red which made me giggle.

"You're my favorite person in the world too," Tommy said pulling me into a hug to which I hugged him back.

"Thank you..."

"Your welcome Toms"

He pulled away from the hug and looked out the window seeing the sun slowly rise.

"Oh crap, I have to go before I get caught" He panicked running to the window.

"wait!" I ran and grabbed Chirp from the Jukebox running to the window hanging me the disc. "Take it"

"But I thought-"

"Let that disc remind you of me if you ever need to let out your feelings"

"Thank you" He smiled kissing my cheek then climbing down the house.

"Thomas!" I shouted but still smiling.

"Bye" He grinned waving

"Be safe" I whispered watching him run off to his house.

Tommy ran as fast as he could to his house before the sun could rise any longer. He climbed up to his window jumping into his room. He was holding the disc carefully when he was climbing so he didn't scratch it. He laid in bed out of breath from running but thank god he made it back before anyone noticed.

A few weeks later you suddenly stopped coming over to play with him and Tubbo. Tommy just thought you had something to do with your family as you did every so often. Days turned into weeks. He sat every night looking at the picture Wilbur took on his birthday of you guys hugging. It didn't sit right that you hadn't shown up or even sent a message that you were away. It confused him.

The next day he begged his family to take him to your house. Yes, he knew how to get to your house but he still wanted one of his brothers to go with I'm knowing his father was still busy. Tommy asked Wilbur in the morning but Wilbur said he was busy today and maybe tomorrow. Tommy had to go today no matter what so he ran to Technoblade's room knocking on the door. Only for Techno to say he was busy and not to bother him.

He sighed knowing he would have to go himself. He put his jacket on and shoes. He walked out of the house and made his way over to your house. Tommy ran to your house concerned, he had a bad feeling and wanted to make sure you were okay.

He saw your house and sprinted faster when he arrived he walked to the door seeing it partially opened. He opened the door all the way seeing the inside of the house destroyed. He walked inside looking around.

"Y/n?" He said seeing shattered glasses on the ground.

"Y/n?!" He saw blood on the ground which made his breath hitch.

"Y/N!" He ran up to your room panicked only to be faced with a pool of blood on the floor.

"No no no no no no," He said his body giving out on him making him fall to the ground blood getting on his clothes and shoes.

He didn't bother to get up and leave. He physically couldn't get up his body was in a paralyzed state so he was forced to lay where you possibly died. his breath was heavy and it was like he had no oxygen in his lungs. he wanted to cry for help but the way he was breathing, it was useless to try. He eventually passed out due to a lack of oxygen.

When he woke up it was night. He still laid in your bedroom but this time he could actually breathe. He then realized he had been gone all day and didn't know what time of night it was. Tommy slowly got up looking at his bloodied clothes. His tears silently fell as he made himself walk back to his house. He wasn't bothered by the noises of the creatures around the area. He couldn't care less if he got hurt because he had a bigger wound that no one would ever be able to fix.

The house lights were on and he saw people sitting outside. He walked closer and saw his family with worried looks on their faces. When they heard footsteps they looked to see Tommy slowly making his way to the door. Wilbur immediately ran up to the little boy pulling him into a hug.

"You had us all fucking worried!" He pulled away from the hug only then noticing the blood. "Holy shit your hurt"

Tommy just stood there no words came out of his mouth as his brother brought him inside to check his "wounds". He was sat on the kitchen counter as Phil raced to grab the first aid kit. when Wilbur went to take Tommy's shirt off to clean the "wound" He says nothing but dried blood.

"Tommy?..."

"She's gone....."

"What?"

"Y/N IS GONE!" His sudden outburst made the 14-year-old jump.

"She's dead Wilby" He sobbed Wilbur pulled the boy into a hug and tried calming down the younger boy. Tommy eventually fell asleep and Wilbur changed him into his pajamas taking the bloody clothes to the washer.

10 years later he sat in exile he lost his precious Discs and was now sent out of the land that he built with Wilbur and Tubbo when Phil went missing and Technoblade left. Wil eventually died by his own father. It was the first time he had seen Phil in 10 years only to see him kill one of the only people who stuck by him.

He then lost Tubbo who exiled him for a stupid prank he did on George's house with Ranboo. Tommy wasn't the type to snitch on someone so he took the blow for Ranboo. He had officially lost everything he ever cared about, the only thing he had left was a picture of you and him hugging when he was 7 years old.

"Tommy?...."

"Y/n?!"

------------------------------------------------------- Just thought of this randomly. ✨YOU ARE AMAZING AND PERFECT THE WAY YOU ARE! YOU ARE WORTH IT ON SO MANY LEVELS✨

[tobesobri]

When the Lights Go Out (Halloween fic; 8k)

𝖆/𝖓: first off, happy Halloween yall! This is my second favorite holiday and so I really wanted to get something up in celebration of it! I’ve talked a lot on here about having trouble with writing recently and so I do what I normally do with writer’s block and I just leave what I’m stuck on and go off to write something random, which is what this ended up being. So, my writing style is definitely different and maybe not great, but this is just for fun so I don’t care! I still hope you enjoy! There’s spookiness (not too much), enemies (frenemies) to lovers, pumpkin carving, smut, alcohol consumption, and giant skeletons 💀 (oh and Harry dressed as Tarzan 🥵)

my masterlist  🎃 my askbox

𝕸ost people’s Halloween traditions weren’t too complicated; usually involving cult-favorite scary movies—ranging from Halloweentown to Nightmare on Elm Street—handing out Snickers and Kit-Kats to tiny trick-or-treaters, or just getting wasted at a friend’s haunted house party down the street. Their friend group, on the other hand, opted for a pumpkin carving contest every year on Halloween at Jason Hallow’s house, and, yes, his favorite holiday is Halloween because of his last name. And so, a few years ago when they were all undergrads together, he began hosting the annual carving contest at his house, in which they all paired up and, at the end of the night, whichever pair’s pumpkin came out the best—as judged by Jason, the resident Jack O’ Lantern expert—won whatever candy was leftover. That and marathons of R-rated horror flicks as well as occasional breaks to go out in the neighborhood and scare some of the kids while dressed in terrifying monster masks and slightly drunk off their asses from too much Tennessee whiskey.

Jason’s house was, hands down, the place to be in their neighborhood. Everyone who came by always wanted to join in on their festivities, and one year, they’d been just drunk enough to let a few of-age neighbors join in. This year, though, it was different. The stakes were higher. They were competing not only for the candy, but also for the much envied twelve-foot tall skeleton Jason had found at Home Depot which currently sat in his front yard amongst his other outrageous decorations. The skeleton was definitely the most noteworthy and had been the center of plenty group photos from just about every one of his neighbors since he had brought it home and especially tonight. In fact, every time the doorbell rang and he greeted another group of kids in his gory doctor costume—because Jason was in med school after all—every one of them squealed about how much they liked his skeleton. And so it almost pained him to have to give it to one of his friends after tonight, but if he’s being honest, he has nowhere to store it—he’d purchased it completely on a whim—and next year they will compete for it all over again anyway.

Tonight is also different because Harry and Y/N are not getting along. They all knew this beforehand, but simply brushed it off until they realized it was much worse than anyone had imagined. They had a horrible friendship—if one could even call it that—ever since they’d met as freshmen pre-law students six years ago. Sometimes they got along, but mostly, they bickered non-stop at each other, which all their friends took as misguided flirting. They got along for about six months once, after a drunken hookup, until, of course, Y/N hooked up with someone else and set off the volcano that was their relationship all over again. It had been calm recently with both of them needing each other’s help through their vigorous law school studies. So, a truce had been made and they tolerated each other at best. Tonight, though, the monsters had truly been unleashed and neither one of them had stopped picking at each other since they’d arrived.

It began on the street, when Harry took the spot Y/N had wanted to park in. Then at the door, when he asked her how her midterms were going and she felt like stepping on his toes until she crushed them. Which was perfectly logical since his was barefoot and mostly naked in his stupid Tarzan costume he’d recycled about four times now since they’d all known each other. He only wore it when the weather was warm, as he claimed, but they all had a suspicion he wore it so that he could watch Y/N drooling over him all night.

She wasn’t innocent either, in his defense, at least not this year when she came dressed in a sexy Beetlejuice costume, something none of them ever thought was possible. But she made it happen. She wore a too-short black and white vertical striped t-shirt dress—which had rips in all the right places, particularly across her chest—and a pair of neon green boots that were Doc Marten knock-offs she had found online. Other than that, she had spray painted the front bits of her hair a grey-green color and did her makeup to match the theme, dark purple smokey eyes and a green color used as contour. It looked good, she looked good, not that Harry would ever say that out loud.

Jason’s entire living room and dining room floors were covered with plastic tarps. He’d set up the usual fold-away tables and chairs for everyone. It was an easy clean-up job that wouldn’t leave pumpkin guts smudged into his hardwood floors or, even worse, the beige carpet in his living room. And, as always, he had a line up of various pumpkins on his kitchen counter—and the necessary kit of carving tools—ready to go. They usually didn’t start until nine-thirty or ten, once everyone arrived and had a few drinks in them and they had all agreed on what movies to watch. This year was a marathon of The Conjuring franchise, because Jason had spent way too much money on a box set and he would not be wasting them. Nobody objected anyway because the movies held a sentimental value to all of them. Every year since the beginning when a new movie came out, they all managed to go see it together, and also cause a horrible ruckus in the theater. Although they’d almost been kicked out a couple times, it was still some of the best memories together they’d ever had.

There was also that one year, when Annabelle Creation came out and Y/N and Harry were getting along on account of the LSATs, that they’d secretly gone home together. And then, of course, pretended it never happened.

That had been the second time they slept together, the second time she’d woken in his bed, with Harry’s annoyingly toned arm wrapped all the way around her, and the last as well because Harry got into a serious relationship their first year of law school and that had been the end of things.

Well… not completely the end. At least not until tonight.

“Okay we’re getting started!” Jason announced over both the music and the television, which someone turned down before Jason continued. He stood, wobbling, on one of the foldable chairs, for no other reason than the bottle of vodka in his hand. He was teetering on the edge sobriety and really didn’t give a fuck if he fell off. “Y’all know the drill! Isa’s handing out the cards. No whining. No trading. Or you’ll be disqualified.”

The cards in question were riddles that they had to match up with the answer. Half of them got the riddle card, the other half an answer card and that would determine who their partner was.

Y/N both wanted Harry as her partner and detested the idea at the same time. She was all for it because, well, he was hot dressed in nothing but his small piece of brown loincloth fabric hanging loosely on his hips. But at the same time, she knew they wouldn’t win together and she really wanted that skeleton.

The riddles were all hand-made by Jason on his computer and then laminated in his girlfriend’s school’s teacher lounge however many years ago. They all knew every answer to every riddle by now, but it was still a much more fun way to pair up than picking names out of a hat.

Y/N read her riddle twice, having absolutely no recollection of the answer to it, however—which was probably due to the alcohol she’d consumed herself within the past hour. She wasn’t all to blame, though, Harry had a lot to do with it too. She was still mad at him, for what she wasn’t sure, but she also could not stop herself from stealing glances at him and the only way to stop feeling so many confusing things about Harry was to drown it all away.

She read her riddle one last time: The person who built it sold it. The person who bought it never used it. The person who used it never saw it. What is it?

Her brain felt like mush after the third read and she hoped someone would find her first and give her the answer. She peeked around at people’s cards as they all tried to find their pair, some of them meeting up immediately and getting the prime pick of the pumpkins. It had dwindled down to just a few of them and she finally waltzed herself up to Harry, grabbed his card from his hand without his permission and read it.

In bold, 16-point Helvetica font, it read: A coffin.

Of course.

She rolled her eyes, shoving his card against his stupid bare chest and groaning audibly. “Figures I’m stuck with you.”

When she finally looked up at him, though, she wasn’t all that upset about her odds as she pretended to be. Not with the way his face set into a devilish, wicked, up-to-no-good look that made her want to rip him from the room and rip his useless Tarzan costume off too while she was at it.

He had also been drinking, which was made even more clear when he opened his mouth. “You’ll always be stuck with me.” And then he leaned in a little bit, his smirk widening and his eyes darkening and the sweet smell of vodka on his tongue strengthening, “Forever.”

She hated the buzzing in her stomach he caused, and hated that she liked knowing they probably would, at the very least, know each other for the rest of their lives. It had already been six years since they met and she still hadn’t managed to shake him off. And now they were finishing up law school together and getting offers to work at the same firm together. There would be no escaping him, not that she really wanted to.

The only time she wanted absolutely nothing to do with him was when he had a girlfriend. She hated seeing him in her classes, in her study groups, her circles, at her internship. He was always there, though, rubbing it in her face as she had once done to him. Hers was just a dumb hookup, partially just to spite him, and his was… well he dated the girl for entire year before they broke up and he seemed genuinely heartbroken over it. It had been serious, and Y/N had been seriously miserable the entire time. Even more so when she found out they’d split up and she just about threw a party while Harry moped around campus. She couldn’t help it, though, she’d liked him ever since they met, but then they just sort of… didn’t get along all the time.

She knew he liked her too, at least a little bit, or he’d never have slept with her twice. How much he actually liked her though was still up for debate, and so she chose keeping their weird hate-love relationship over ruining all of it by admitting her feelings for him. Plus, she liked working with him and getting his help on exams and papers too much to ruin that as well.

Y/N grabbed the third to last pumpkin, an unopened carving kit, and led the way to two lonesome chairs. They sat closest to the door, and farthest from the dining room and Jason, in their own little corner where they had enough room to stretch out given that no else had laid any claim on the other side of their table yet.

“So,” Harry began once they were settled and Y/N began opening the kit of tools, “what are we making?”

Before giving him an answer, she laid out all the tools on the table in front of them, next to their poor misshapen pumpkin, and then reached down into the side of her boot and pulled out a black sharpie; she’d learned a couple years back to start brining one. It might have been cheating, sketching her design beforehand, but Jason never outlawed it.

“I’m making Jason’s favorite Tim Burton character and you’re in charge of the guts.” She dictated confidently, slapping the sawing tool and the large orange plastic spoon in front of him so he could get started right away.

He eyed the tools for a moment, then the pumpkin, and then finally her. “Absolutely not. I’m not doing all the shit work while you do the fun stuff.”

“Thought you’d be used to that.” She half-mumbled, but he still heard her over the rest of the noise in the house. And, frankly, she was right. When they had interned together last year, she always handed off the demeaning tasks to him, like getting the coffee or making copies, while she did the much more interesting parts of the job. What she didn’t know was that she didn’t make him do anything. He always did it so she didn’t have to.  

He sat back in his seat and crossed his arms over his chest, arms that her eyes—which were completely out of her control at that point—glued to immediately. He’d been working out ever since the break up and finally filled out the Tarzan costume a lot better. He’d always had a nice body, she knew that, but now… now he made her dizzy.

“I’m not doing it. Least not all by myself.”

She gave up then, mostly because she lost her will to argue against the pout of his lips and the flexing of his biceps—which weren’t ridiculously big, but they were subtle and modest and very much bigger than they had been this time last year when he’d dressed up as a shirtless baseball player. Most all of Harry’s costumes involved some level of nakedness and not much sense, but she didn’t complain too loudly. And his arms were definitely bigger now than they had been the last time she was in his bed and he was over her.

“Fine.” She groaned, grabbing the mini saw tool and then standing to begin carving a hole at the top of their pumpkin, around the stem. She made it big enough for them to be able to stick their hands inside, and then once she was finished, pulled the stem piece off and set it aside for later, chopping off some loose bits of pumpkin shreds first.

Despite his earlier protests, he was the first to dig into the pumpkin, standing as well and going hands first into the thing where he pulled out fistfuls and dumped it into a pile on the table. They went back and forth digging out the insides of the pumpkin until finally, Harry grabbed the spoon and really went in. And she didn’t even bother offering to help, and instead stared, again, at his stupid biceps and especially at his hands, which were slick from the pumpkin juice. She shuddered remembering where his hands had once been, and then pulled herself together remembering how long ago it had been and how very little interest he’d shown in picking up where they’d left off pre-girlfriend.

Once the pumpkin was fully gutted, they both sat again, and cleaned their hands off on the paper towels Jason had set up on each table.

She was the first to begin the process, sketching out the design with her sharpie of Oogie Boogie from The Nightmare Before Christmas. She’d carved the character before, but still needed a reference picture on her phone to get all the details right. And Harry watched her the entire time, memorizing her face for the millionth time while she concentrated, and sometimes he stared at her hands, too, hands he also found himself reminiscing over, to the point of needing to cross his legs so it wasn’t made visibly clear what he was thinking about. He was starting to regret recycling the Tarzan costume.

While they all worked, Jason answered the door and handed out candy about once every five minutes. The best part of their tradition wasn’t the pumpkin carving itself, but rather, the atmosphere. They loved the feeling, the adrenaline rush of it all. How messy everything would eventually get, how loud they all were. The anguished shouting when someone messed something up. The sounds of Thriller playing in the background mixed with the loud jump scares from the horror movies played all night long. It was heaven to any lover of Halloween (and they all loved Halloween).

She’d let Harry start the carving of the design, informing him what parts were staying and what parts needed to be cut away, before she ventured into the kitchen to grab them both a drink. On her way back, she paused for a moment, just watching Harry work over in their corner. The sight of him almost made her want to finally admit how she felt. Maybe it wouldn’t be too bad if he rejected her, at least then she’d know.

But then Zoe plopped down into her empty chair next to Harry and crushed everything back down like an aluminum can being recycled. She tossed back about half of her Smirnoff after Zoe had scooted closer to Harry and grazed her fingertips across his arm—the one he wasn’t using the carve the pumpkin. And at first, he ignored it, but then he set down the tool, pushed his hair back with his clean wrist and offered Zoe one of his annoying little smirks that Y/N always thought he saved just for her. But now, seeing him use it to flirt with Zoe, she felt stupid and betrayed. And stupid again for feeling betrayed.

She had no claim to him. She just had her memories, as inconvenient as they were at times. But that was nothing and it’d been so long that he showed any interest in her, in anybody, that for her to be jealous now was just pure selfishness. As much as she hated Harry sometimes, she still wanted to see him happy again.

Y/N made her way back slowly, eying what others were doing, until finally joining Harry again just as Zoe went back to her own pumpkin.

She was quiet for a moment, sipping on her drink, watching him as he got back to carving, before cleaning her throat as she finally said something, “What did Zoe want?” And she tried not to sound anything other than curious, but the way Harry glanced at her, with a raised brow, she knew she needed to be so much more subtle.

He took the other cup from her that she hadn’t drunk from and replenished his blood alcohol level. “She just asked me what I was doing after this.”

Instead of opening her mouth and being obvious, she just set her drink down and grabbed both the carving tool and the pumpkin from Harry to take over. He’d already done way more work than she had, so it was about time they switched anyway.

He eyed her curiously still, even though he allowed her to continue where he left off as he leaned back in his chair and took a break, downing what was left in his cup as she worked.

“You’re not jealous are you?” He finally asked, after a few moments to let his brain marinate in the alcohol in order to brave that question in the first place.

“No.” It was sharp. A piercing rejection he felt dig its claws deep into his heart. He couldn’t tell if she was lying or not, but if not, it hurt. More than he was willing to admit, even to himself. He wanted her to be jealous. He always did. That was part of the reason he’d gotten a girlfriend. And of course she was also part of the reason they broke up, if not all of it.

He nodded, “So it wouldn’t bother you if I went home with Zoe?”

He noticed her brief hesitation, when her hand stopped moving and she took in a breath of air, but then she settled again. “Doesn’t bother me what you do, Harry.”

Again, he nodded, still watching her just to get a sense of her reactions. Of course he had no plans on going home with Zoe. He just wanted to know. Where they stood. How Y/N felt about him. Whether she thought about their nights together as often as he did. When they were studying together and she’d shift her hair behind her shoulder and he’d get a whiff of her shampoo and be taken right back to one of those nights, and the nights that came after that when he got lost in that scent on his pillows until it eventually dissipated and left him craving more.

He tried again. One last time. If he still didn’t get the response he was hoping for, then he’d give it up and leave her alone. So, he sat forward, crossing his arms on top of the table, close enough to her now that the buzzing in her stomach reappeared even though she never braved a single glance at him. He was close enough that the smell of his cologne overtook the odor from the pumpkin. Close enough that she felt his breath on the side of her face when he spoke.

“So, I’ve just been imagining the way you’ve been looking at me all night then?” His voice was just above a whisper, and soft, caressing her ears as the sound crept its way inside of her. As it seeped into all the places the alcohol had been, although Harry was always something way more potent than whiskey or tequila. He made her head spin, made her feel everything and nothing at the same time. Made her heart flutter so much at times it hurt.

His words sunk in and all her motions stopped as she froze in place. She stopped carving their pumpkin, stopped blinking, stopped breathing. Staring blankly at their half-finished design until he was wrung out from her system completely. That never really happened, though, because he was staring at her, watching her with those glinting, impatient eyes, waiting for an answer. There wasn’t even the familiar hint of a smirk or a bit of amusement on his face anymore, either, that might have calmed her nerves. Because at least if he seemed to just be messing with her, she could play that game with him, but this was different.

He leaned forward a bit, trying to get her to look at him, to say something, anything, really. He’d be satisfied enough with her lies at this point. But he also knew the absence of an answer alone was all he really needed. He didn’t feel like he was getting ahead of himself, seeing the way her body reacted to him, by assuming that she felt, at least somewhat, the same way he did about her. Because if she’d been the one to ask if she was imagining how he’d been staring at her all night, he wouldn’t deny it.

Just as she opened her mouth, just as she had gathered enough words to form a coherent sentence, the room went dark. Pitch black, actually. The lights all around them flickering off, the television going blank, the music cutting out. And once the startled gasps and dramatic, drunken yelling had subsided, they were left in a ringing silence, so completely opposite to what they had been moments ago that it was painful for their ears to adjust to.

“What the fuck?” They heard Jason’s voice in the darkness and then, finally, a bit of light as he turned his phone’s flashlight on.

“Did the power go out everywhere?” Someone else asked.

And while everyone panicked, all Harry cared and thought about was Y/N’s hand wrapped tightly around his own on his lap. He wasn’t exactly sure when she’d grabbed for him, but once he realized she was there, he didn’t really care too much about the lights anymore. What he did care about still, however, was whether she’d ever answer his question now. If he’d ever get to hear what she was about to say just before the darkness cut her off.

A few of them stumbled about, making plans to go outside and check on things while everyone else stayed inside and waited. The room went dark for a few more moments as Jason left, but then someone else turned their flashlight on, and shined them at the ceiling so that there was at least enough light so that they didn’t have to sit in complete darkness.

If it wasn’t Halloween, the power going out wouldn’t have bothered her so much. Outages happened happened all the time. But now, in the middle of the second Annabelle movie with all sorts of other spooky shit around them, she couldn’t help but be terrified and imagine the worst. Like… what if there was a killer on the loose who had cut their power. What if the killer was chopping up Jason and the others and then eventually heading inside to do the same to all of them?

“Hey,” Harry mumbled beside her, inching closer and rubbing his thumb over the back of her hand, realizing she’d grown tense when her grip on him had tightened. “You alright?”

Hearing his voice again, she let out a breath of air and tried to relax. She watched way too many scary movies and this was most definitely not one of them. Just a power outage, possibly due to everyone being home and using lots of extra electricity on their lights and decorations. She had no reason to panic. Although it could be blamed on Harry as well, if he hadn’t made her an astronomical amount of nervous just before.

She nodded until she realized Harry couldn’t even see her very well. “I’m fine.” She finally affirmed, and, to his dismay, took her hand away from his.

They sat in their own silence for a while, listening to the quiet conversations around them, particularly to Zoe and Julie who were trying to look up any information they could even though their phones were slow from the lack of Wi-Fi and service.

After a little while, she found his hand again in the dark, and this time, she wasn’t afraid from the power going out, but rather what she was about to say. Because if there was ever an opportunity to spill your guts to Harry Styles, it was in a dark room where his grassy green eyes weren’t all over you, sucking every ounce of courage from your bones.

Her voice was in a whisper, and she finally looked at him, or rather in his direction. To the outlines of his face, of his nose and his cheekbones. Even though she couldn’t find the green, she knew he was there, waiting, listening.

“You haven’t been imagining anything.”

She couldn’t quite see it, but his eyebrows had hit the ceiling and before he could question her further, she continued.

“I was miserable when you were seeing Liv and so fucking happy when you broke up.” Her voice shook, but she didn’t let that stop her, “And then miserable again because you didn’t want me. And maybe you still don’t, but it would really bother me if you went home with someone else.”

The quiet almost ate her alive for the next few seconds when he said nothing and she didn’t have his features to go off of. But then, she felt him getting closer until, finally, his lips were at her ear.

“I’ve always wanted you.”  

The buzzing was back but this time it was debilitating. Especially when he faced her and cupped his free hand along her jaw. And especially when he tilted her head back slightly to meet his lips, which had pretty good aim given their predicament. She missed the way he felt, she realized, once he was kissing her. Once he had scooted closer and released his hand from her grip on his lap. Once he grabbed up the other side of her face and pulled her closer. And then her hand was left to fend for itself on his thigh, and she, almost unconsciously, drifted her touch closer and closer and closer…

He moaned softly into her mouth when she toyed with the flimsy piece of fabric tied around his waist with her fingertips. And finally, she pulled apart from him, catching her breath before whispering, “Do you think they’d notice if we left?”

He shook his head, “Don’t think I care if they did.”

And so they were off. Trying not to draw too much attention to themselves even though she slightly tripped over the leg of the chair and he tried not to giggle too loudly while helping her. His hand fell into hers again as he led the way out of the living room, down the hall and into Jason’s guest room, closing them both off from any light source completely, not that they really cared too much about seeing each other; they just wanted to feel each other again.

And as soon as Harry had closed the door behind her, that’s exactly what they did. As she wrapped her arms around his neck; as he felt his way around her waist, he kissed her like he hadn’t kissed anyone in years. Like he was a dry, cracking desert and she was a vast river flowing through him.

He took brave steps towards the bed blindly, backing her up further into the dark room and managing to not trip over anything when he finally made it to the bed. They’d both, on separate occasions, spent the night in Jason’s guest room before, which helped when maneuvering around in the dark. For instance, Harry knew that Jason kept his secret stash of condoms in the bedside drawer. Harry had no idea why, but he was thankful for it right now, when, after laying her back on the bed, Y/N had already begun undoing his costume—with such quickness, he was sure she’d studied how the thing was connected to his body so that she knew exactly how to get if off if need be—and, within the next few seconds, tossed the flimsy Tarzan loincloth out of sight.

Which left him in just the black thong he wore underneath. If it were up to him, he wouldn’t have even bothered with it. But, when he had first gotten the costume and tried it on without anything, he imagined all the wardrobe slips and potential boners might not be in everyone’s best interests. So, he went out and bought the smallest pair of underwear he’d ever owned, tucked himself inside of them, and called it a day.

Those, too, were stripped from his body in a matter of seconds, or at least pushed down his thighs to where they no longer covered what they were intended to cover. But then she flipped them around, so that Harry was on his back this time, splayed across the bed and she was finally ridding him of the thong all together and not wasting any time getting her hands on him and he wondered, with how quick she was to get to this point, if she had been thinking about this all night. And if she had, then he would definitely have to whip out the Tarzan costume more often.

He seemed to sink into the mattress once he felt her mouth close on him, his eyes fluttering shut and his mouth hanging open involuntarily when he hit the back of her throat. He had no idea how he’d gone so long without her, or why either. Why had he been so stupid? Why did he let her think he didn’t want her? Why did he deprive the both of them of this? Of the way she felt circling her tongue around the tip of his cock, the way he knew she was looking at him even though he could physically not open his eyes or come down off his cloud long enough to tell her how good she felt. How much he missed it. How much he was probably in love with her, even if that might have been crossing some sort of line.

“Forgot how big you were,” she whispered, giggling almost shamefully after wiping her mouth on the back of her hand and giving him a break to actually breathe properly again.

“Think we both know that’s a lie.” He was out of breath already and he was right, although she wouldn’t feed his ego no matter what he said. Although she remembered his cock perfectly fine, she wasn’t exactly used to it. And maybe she had momentarily forgotten what he had hidden under his costume. It’d been two years since they slept together, and the first time it happened they’d been drunk.

She didn’t say anything else, just tried to hide the blush on her face—even though he couldn’t’ see it anyway—by taking a mouthful of him again. She didn’t let him come, though, of course, and he didn’t expect her to either. She never had before. She always led him get right to the edge, to where he was panting and writhing and digging his fingers into her hair, on the verge of screaming her name into the dark, and then she’d stop. Pull him from the back of her throat and leave him a sopping, moaning mess.

He’d somewhat recovered when she crawled on top of him and and sat on either side of his hips with her hands planted on his chest. And now that their eyes had adjusted to the darkness, she could see the curve of his lips as he smiled up at her and even the sinister little twist of his mouth just before he grabbed hold of the hem of her dress and ripped it off over her head, letting it fall onto the bed next to him. He wished they had just a little bit more light, but at the same time, it turned him on having to see with his hands instead. Having to reach up and cup her breasts in his palms and rely on his memories for a better visual than the one he currently had. And as she came down to kiss him again, there was one thing for sure he didn’t need any light or anything but his fingers to do.

He tossed her bra into the same vicinity as her dress and within seconds had his hands all over her again, and his tongue as well, wishing she was on her back so he could worship her in all the ways he desperately wanted to, but also aware that the power could flick on at any moment and he really didn’t have the time.

Not that she had asked, and maybe she just hadn’t thought of it yet, but he still, while continuing to make out with her, reached over, pulled the drawer open on the nightstand and reached inside to locate the box of condoms.

However, once he did, and he didn’t find what he was looking for, he sat up and pulled apart from her, twisting himself a bit in order to see inside the drawer. His other hand held onto her hips so she didn’t fall off of him as he searched the drawer. But, soon enough, he was laying back again, groaning as if he was in physical pain.

“There’s no condoms.” He muttered between his teeth and just that one little sentence ruined his entire night.

“It’s okay.” She assured, continuing to whisper just as he did so that no one would hear them through the thin walls. “I mean… we’re clean right? And I’m on birth control…”

He ran his fingers through his hair, looking up at her and trying to decide if it was a good idea or not. She was right, of course, but even so there was always a possibility. Even with condoms there was always that same possibility too. He knew one thing for certain. If he remembered correctly. There was absolutely no way in hell he’d be able to pull out, so that really wouldn’t even be an option either.

“If you don’t want to though, that’s fine.” She spoke again amongst his silence. It’s not like he would hate the potential consequences, and of course he would not hate feeling her without a stitch of anything in between them, he just needed to be reassured that’s what she wanted, truly.

“I do, just um… are you sure you’re okay with that?”

She nodded first and then, confidently, “Yes.” As she fell back into place over him, her lips came to his ear this time, “I want to feel you coming inside of me.”

His whole body shuddered, needing her more than he quite possibly ever had. And as she tucked her panties to the side and guided herself onto him, he would most definitely go outside and cut the lines himself if the power decided to come back on before they were finished.

“Forgot how wet you are…” He whispered, heart fluttering at the way she laughed while fucking him. He never forgot either, not quite. But feeling her again now, pooling around him, warm and snug, he again wondered why in the living hell he kept himself from her for so long. Sure, they didn’t like each other most of the time, but their first time together had been hot, drunk hate sex and ever since then he’d chased that feeling with other people, none of them ever quite adding up to her. He wondered if she thought the same. No one ever making her feel the way he did either. If, when she was with someone else, she thought of him instead.

He knew he wouldn’t last long the second she put her greedy hands on him, and so her being in control now was slightly dangerous. He wasn’t ready for it to be over, even if he was racing the clock, even if he could just take her home from here and do it all over again, properly. He didn’t want it to end as quickly as it started.

So, he flipped them back over, getting her on her back like he’d wanted to earlier. Slipping a pillow under her backside to get a better angle and letting her sink all the way through the mattress this time. He remained inside her the entire time, only making quick, shallow movements to avoid the sounds of their skin slapping against each other. But he gave up being careful about their noise level after she begged him to go faster, after he reached between them and rubbed his fingers over her clit to catch her up with him.

She tugged at his hair while he kissed her, breathlessly and without much of a second thought this time about how loud they were being. He assumed all their friends knew about them anyway, even if she chose to be ignorant to it. They all speculated about the secret hookups and the mindless flirting that was disguised as harmless bickering. So, he just stopped caring the closer and closer he got.

That was until he buried himself as far as he could inside of her, his hand wrapped around her throat the way he remembered her liking, and he felt the scream building beneath her skin, beneath his palm. Quickly, before her noises led to everyone barreling into the room to find out what was going on, he clasped his hand from her throat to her mouth instead. Holding tightly as she let it out, his eyes pouring into hers like a lake of shining emerald waters getting her to stay there in the room with him. So that she didn’t close her eyes and float away like he had before.

He titled her head to the side, kissed up her jaw to her ear. “Mm, I missed the way you sound.” He wanted to tell her how he thought about her pleads and her moans and her yells late at night when he was feeling particularly alone. When he wanted nothing but her, to either be inside of her, or to just have her there next to him. But all of that got caught in his throat, and instead, as he continued burying himself into her, he whispered like a growl in her ear, “Missed how well you take me.”

And although it made her moan, made her eyes cross and her fingernails scrape across his shoulder blades, he wanted to tell her that he missed how they fit together. How where he ended she began so seamlessly no one else could hardly compare. There had always been a seam with everyone else, with Liv, a visible divide between him and them, soldered together haphazardly. But with Y/N, it was smooth, flowing together as if they were the same person.

His hand slipped from her mouth as he began losing control, and soon she was the one having to cover the noises. Though, this time, she just simply pulled his lips to her own and felt all the vibrations escape from his throat against her skin, her teeth, her tongue. She breathed in nothing but the air from his lungs, and held onto his tightly as she began to unravel.

His moans quickened and quickened until she felt his release, warm and deep inside of her, just as her own gave way, until his body began to give out, until he was panting and no longer able to hold himself up over her. And so once they both descended from their cloud, once their wave had crashed onto the shore, he planted himself beside her, their chests in rhythm as they cough their breath.

And before either of them even managed to open their eyes or breathe steadily again, the surge of the power coming back on dimmed the haze. Their room was still dark, but light seeped under the door and the rest of their friends cheered from the other room as the music began again. And for a brief, stupid moment, Harry thought about fucking her again and letting her scream all she wanted, but that fantasy was cut short when he remembered their friends would soon realize they were missing.

“We should get back.” She mumbled. Although she made no sudden movements to get up. She even closed her eyes again, still off in another world.

And so Harry risked it, just for a few more moments, anyway, where he rolled closer to her and slid his hand up her jaw softly, pulling her attention toward him again as her eyes fluttered open, waiting.

“I was miserable when I was with Liv too. And we broke up because she knew I spent all my time thinking about someone else.” He swiped his thumb across her cheek, realizing for the first time that he’d probably royally fucked up all her makeup and then hoping she wouldn’t come to her senses and kill him for it.

“And who might that be?”

He smiled, sweetly this time unlike all his asshole smiles, and just as he glanced at her lips, ready to kiss her again, he was cut short.

“Yo, where are Harry and Y/N?” It was Jason, loud and clear and possibly headed their way to investigate his missing party guests who had snuck off together in the dark. Jason didn’t know that yet though, and as much as Harry would like none of their friends to find out, it wouldn’t exactly look great the two of them waltzing out of the guest room together. Harry’s curls in shambles, fresh scratches all across his back, and Y/N’s makeup smudged. There was simply no use in hiding what they’d been up to, it was written all over them.

Harry grabbed her clothes and handed them off while he went on a search for his own tiny pieces of costume. And just as they got decent again, there was a knock on the door.

“You guys in there? You better not be doing what I think you’re doing.” Jason warned and Harry and Y/n looked at each other for a moment before busting out laughing.

Harry got to the door first, throwing it open to a very surprised Jason, who then narrowed his eyes when he saw Y/N come up behind Harry.

“God, not in my guest room!” He whined as Harry pushed pass Jason, a looking Y/N following shortly behind, “Now I have to clean the sheets again! I just did them yesterday.”

“Sorry, mate!” Harry called over his shoulder, glancing down at Y/N quickly to give her one of his cocky little winks. And once they had reached the main room again, as he fell back into his chair, she realized just how many scratch marks she’d left on him, and wished he’d worn a costume with a shirt to cover it up.

She drowned out all the whistling and the comments about how everyone knew she and Harry were up to something, about the bets won and lost. All she heard was Harry’s voice in her ear, telling her how much he missed her and she wondered if it was real. If he really did miss her, or he just missed fucking her. If, when it was no longer October 31st, they’d just go back to normal. Like the horse-drawn carriage turning back into a lumpy, ugly pumpkin.

Harry noticed this, of course, because he’s a law student and notices everything, but just as he leaned in to ask if she was okay, she pulled away.

“I just, uh, need some air.” And then she was gone before he could do or say anything. She used through the front door, abandoning their poor pumpkin and headed toward her car. She’d left the keys and her purse inside, but it didn’t matter. She just leaned against the passenger door and gazed up at the stars, thankful for the clear night and warm weather.  

And, of course, he was beside her not too long afterwards. She’d heard his footsteps against the pavement, knew he’d probably follow her out anyway.

He cleared his throat, half watching the same stars she was and half glancing at her. “Did I do something?”

“No, it’s um…” she faltered, her eyes falling to her feet. “Think I just had too much to drink.”

“Oh… I’m sorry. I—” she cut him off before he got too far in the wrong direction.

“No, I mean…” she pushed off her car then and faced him, “Are we just going to go back to how we always are after tonight? Because I don’t know if I can do that. But I never know what you’re thinking, Harry. Do you even like me or do you just like sleeping with me sometimes and arguing with me all the rest of the time?”

He continued to watch her for a moment, almost waiting for her to tell him she was kidding. But when she just ran a nervous hand through her colored hair, he realized she wasn’t.

He waited for a group of kids all dressed in various Star Wars outfits to pass by them before he began. “I guess I thought I was clear, but obviously not enough… I don’t just want to sleep with you every couple of years and pretend we don’t like each other in between. I think we’ve already wasted enough time, don’t you?”

She nodded once his words sunk in.

“Can we go finish our pumpkin now? And win the stupid skeleton. So I can take both it and you home with me?”

Again, she nodded, but this time it was matched with a smile. “Who says I want to go home with you?”

He rolled his eyes and threw an arm around her shoulder, pulling her close enough to kiss the top of her head as he steered them back toward the front door. “Guess it’ll just be me and the skeleton then.”

They both glanced over at the giant thing stuck in the middle of Jason’s front yard, still attracting every young person like it was a princess at Disneyland, and then she looked up at him again. “On second thought, I might like to see that.”

He shook his head, opening the front door for them, “M’sure you would.”

[rowansparrow]

By Any Other Name: Chapter Seven

Summary: You and Rex have a conversation on the rooftop.

Chapter Rating: Teen 

Warnings: Alcohol, some drunk-ness. Sad, so very sad.

Ships: Rex x Female!Reader, Fives x Female!Reader, Clone OC x Female!Reader, other ships tbd.

Tags: #ByAnyOtherName, #BAON

Word Count: 3.1k

A/N: *insert that Always Sunny in Philadelphia Meme: “NEWSFLASH ASSHOLE, REX HAS BEEN IN LOVE WITH READER THE ENTIRE GODDAMN TIME* As always, bless @fat-zygerrian for being my beta reader!

Comment if you want to be tagged! Reblogs are SO appreciated!

Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five Chapter Six

You were supposed to meet him that night.

You’d planned on going to 79’s instead of the rooftop as usual. Rose said the boys had missed you and wanted to play cards again. You’d gotten all dolled up and were about to head out when your comm beeped.

“Hey,” You grinned, shutting your apartment door behind you. “I was just heading out.”

“Yeah… about that,” Rose sounded embarrassed. “There’s been a change in plans. I won’t be able to make it. In fact, none of us will. We got – err – held up on base.”

“Really?” You asked, pausing as you started to head down to the main level of your building. “Okay… well can we meet after?”

“I’m not supposed to go off base but – yeah, yeah I’ll see what I can do. Keep your comm close.”

He hung up and you hesitated in the stairwell for a beat. Fuck it. Even if Rose couldn’t come along, you were still going to have a nice time tonight!

You had gotten more confident about going to 79’s ever since you and Rose had gotten close. You could recognize a few distinct faces now, just from people Rose had pointed out to you or introduced to you in passing. There was a notable absence of 501st blue, which at least confirmed Rose wasn’t just ditching you and had in fact gotten held up at the base with the rest of his battalion.

You approached the bar, settling in and glancing around to look for any familiar faces to keep you company while you waited for Rose. Further down the bar, you spotted Marshal Commander Cody and your breath hitched for just a moment. Rose had told you all about him – the most highly decorated clone soldier in the entire Republic Army. You would’ve been able to guess it even if Rose hadn’t told you about the curved scar on the side of his face. For the way Cody carried himself, even here, held an air of authority, of gravitas and poise.

He was talking to someone, the other person obscured by his own body. You ordered a drink, trying not to look as starstruck by the Commander as you felt.

“I’d try your luck with someone a little less ranked if I were you,” The bartender teased, catching you staring. “I’ve never once seen the Marshal Commander take up an offer to go home with somebody.”

“That’s – that isn’t my intention.” You blushed, taking the drink with a short huff. Still, you glanced at Cody again and watched him clap his hand on the shoulder of the man he’d been speaking with.

“Alright, see you around, Rex ‘ole boy. Stay out of trouble.”

Now that made you turn instantly. As Cody moved away, you were able to get a better look at the man he’d been talking to, and gods above, it was him. It was Captain Rex. Rose had told you so many stories about him that it felt strange finally seeing him in the flesh.

Rose had warned you about how much trouble you both could get in if anyone ever found out you were seeing each other. Your friendship was frowned upon enough as is, but now that it had become something more, Rose had given you the full dressing-down on what could happen to him if you were ever caught.

As such, you hadn’t ever met Rose’s superior officer, and since Rose wasn’t here…

You downed the rest of your drink quickly. There’s no reason the Captain would be suspicious of you. Besides, you wanted to meet him, get to know the man who was such a huge part of Rose’s life.

You wanted to meet his family.

“Hi.”

In truth, maybe your introduction could’ve been a little stronger. But as you sidled over to the Captain and leaned one hand on the bar, he gave you a small smile, nodding once.

“Ma’am.”

“Can I buy you a drink?”

Rex seemed surprised and looked you over carefully. He seemed to be waging a war with himself for a split second but eventually nodded.

“I don’t see why not.”

You grinned, settling into the seat beside him and waving the bartender over, tucking a hand under your chin. “What’s your name? I’m Y/N.”

“Rex.” He replied, offering his hand to shake. You repressed the urge to giggle. He was such a gentleman.

“What do you drink, Rex?”

He chuckled. “Whiskey.”

“Two of those, then.” You told the bartender. Rex’s eyebrow jumped up but you barely noticed.

“So. You must be a Captain, right? With all this fancy gear?” You said, motioning to his pauldron and kama.

“How d’you know I’m not just some ARC trooper who likes showing off?” Rex replied, smirking and leaning forward a bit.

“I’ve met an ARC trooper or two, and you don’t seem the type to boast.”

Rex chuckled again, taking his glass as the bartender returned. “You must get around, then.”

It wasn’t an insult and you didn’t take it as such. “Maybe I’m just good at making friends.”

Rex smiled and his eyes seemed to appraise you for a moment, taking all of you in, calculating. He took a swig.

“You here with any of those friends?” He asked.

“All alone, tonight.” You replied. “My friends got held up and you looked lonely. Thought I’d keep you company. It’s the least I can do for a soldier like you.”

Rex chuckled, low and sweet. “Most pretty girls don’t just find themselves in 79’s.” Rex drawled, setting his glass down again. “From what I can tell, they’re usually looking for trouble.”

He turned slightly to face you better. “Are you looking for trouble, mesh’la?”

Your heart skipped a beat. You knew that word, but didn’t know what it meant. Rose had called you that before.

“It looks like I already found it.” You replied.

Rex grinned. “Then I guess you better stay close so I can keep a proper eye on you.”

You chuckled, picking up your own drink and finally taking a sip. The whiskey burned your throat but it warmed you to the core. Rex looked impressed which was its own bonus.

“You never answered my question.” You said. “Are you a Captain?”

“I command the 501st attack battalion.” Rex said, a note of pride in his voice.

“Ah, then you must know Echo and Fives.” You prompted.

Rex seemed to age ten years at just the mention of their names. “I take it those are the ARC troopers you’ve met?” He asked. “My condolences.”

You giggled. “We played cards a few times. They’re nice but definitely a handful.”

“They’re all a handful.” Rex waved over the bartender to get another drink. “Every last one of them. That’s why none of them were allowed off base tonight.”

“Oh?” You grinned. “Do tell.”

Once he got going talking about his men, he couldn’t stop. Rex regaled you with the story of how earlier that afternoon he’d discovered his men were not only hiding a loth cat in the barracks, but it had given birth. They had managed to keep it a secret for weeks until the kittens started wreaking havoc. According to his men, Fives and Hardcase had been the ringleaders.

“That’s what they all say at least.” Rex amended. “’Course, Fives’ll take credit for just about anything. But Rose and Echo were suspiciously quiet the whole time. Kix was the only one with the good sense not to show his face in the barracks when I caught them. Still, I’ve got a feeling he encouraged the others to go along with it. Di’kuts, all of them.”

He shook his head but smiled as you laughed. “Anyway. They’re cleaning up the mess and finding natborns to rehome all the kits with. And when they finish with that, they’re supposed to take over the latrine shifts and canteen shifts for any other battalions.”

“Aw, seems a steep punishment for hiding loth cats.” You laughed.

“You didn’t see the state of the barracks.” Rex said, shaking his head slowly. “Apparently a bucket of paint got upended. They should all be scrubbing paw prints out of the durasteel right about now.”

You smiled fondly at Rex. Even as he retold the story, you could tell he was trying not to smile at the antics. It was clear he cared very deeply for his men, even if he had to be the tired parent of them all.

“Sounds like they wear you out.” You teased. “You deserve a break.”

“Are you offering me one?” Rex prompted.

You tilted your head to the side. “What do you mean?”

Rex smirked, and downed the rest of his drink. He took a deep breath, as though he was steeling himself to ask you something.

“Y/N!”

You recognized the voice and turned quickly as Rose hurried up to you. He had a small streak of blue paint across his cheek, but otherwise was beaming.

“Hey, you should’ve told me you’d be here. I went all the way to your apartment and had to backtrack -.”

He noticed the Captain a beat too late and you watched as all the color comically drained from his face. “Captain! Sir!” He snapped to attention. “I ah – I can explain…”

You glanced between Rose and Rex, your own heart pounding. Rose had all but given away the two of you were seeing each other. Rex looked at Rose before looking at you. He then turned to his glass, picking it up and making a big scene of looking it over.

“Sir…?” Rose asked nervously.

“Oh, I’m just inspecting my beverage.” Rex replied smoothly. “I must’ve been drugged you see, because surely I am not seeing my Lieutenant standing here, not when he is under strict orders to stay on base tonight.”

Rose cringed. “Yeah, sir, about that -.”

“It’s my fault.” You spoke up quickly, throwing together a lie. “Rose and I met yesterday, we’d been playing Sabacc with some of his brothers and he very kindly walked me home afterwards. I promised him drinks tonight to thank him and I wouldn’t take no for an answer.” You glanced to Rose. “He was just being a gentleman.”

Rex raised an eyebrow, glancing at Rose. “Funny.” He said. “Could’ve sworn I saw you in the weight room with Fives last night.”

“We… came here afterwards sir.” Rose lied, shifting a little closer to you, almost protective. “Ask him, he’ll say the same thing.”

“I’m sure he will.” Rex stood, picking his helmet up off the counter and knocked his knuckles lightly against the bar. “It was lovely to meet you, ma’am.” He said. “Rose?”

Your soldier stood at attention once again but Rex just put a hand on his shoulder.

“We have a briefing tomorrow morning. Oh-eight-hundred. Don’t be late.”

“Thank you, sir.” Rose was barely audible over the roar of the music in the bar. He looked like his knees would give out at any moment.

You could’ve sworn you saw Rex give Rose a little wink, but it must’ve been a trick of the light. He gave you one last nod before quietly departing.

Neither you nor Rose saw him glance back at you over his shoulder one last time before stepping out of the bar.

~

You’d lost track of how long you sat on the roof with Rex. Partially because he’d gone downstairs and returned with a bottle of your favorite whiskey and two glasses, pouring drinks for you both.

“For Rose,” Rex toasted, clinking your glasses together.

You smiled and for the first time that you could remember, Rose’s name didn’t make your heart ache. “For Rose.”

You both tossed the glasses back, that familiar burn searing your throat and chest before you shook yourself out, watching as Rex poured you both a second glass, entirely unfazed.

“He was very unsubtle about sneaking off base to go see you.” Rex told you, leaning back on one hand and closing his eyes as the breeze kissed his cheeks. “I’d give him a job and it would either be done in record time or it would’ve been passed off to somebody else. He once almost missed a debriefing because he’d spent the night with you. Skidded in right as I was about to start.” He chuckled. “I didn’t mind. He was happy. Gods know we soldiers deserve whatever happiness we can find.”

You hummed, smiling as you took another drink. “He talked about you all the time.” You said, leaning slightly against Rex’s side. “Idolized you, actually. He told me about the battles you’d been in together, how well you led your men.” You smiled to yourself, finishing your second drink and making your way towards a third. “He told me about that virus. Blue Shadow Virus, right?”

Rex hummed, getting himself another drink as well. “That was an ugly mission.”

“He said you were hovering a lot.” You teased. “Because he was always so sick when he was little. You were worried about him.”

“Brothers were dropping dead, left and right. Hells, even Commander Tano passed out at one point.” Rex recalled, shuddering to himself. “I thought we were all going to die.”

“He told me he wasn’t scared because you weren’t scared.” You smiled. “I guess you did a good job of hiding it.”

“He had way too many close calls.” Rex chuckled. “That virus almost took him out. We got rescued just in time. There was another time he was scouting with me and a few others on Saleucami -.”

“I remember that. You were shot.” You recalled and Rex chuckled.

“He really did tell you everything, didn’t he?”

“He was terrified. He told me he thought you were dead, the way you flew off the back of the speeder after getting hit..” You murmured.

“What he probably didn’t tell you is that shot just barely missed him.” Rex replied. “I’d been leading but he’d circled around me to get in front. He was goofing around with Hardcase. Bolt whizzed just an inch past his head and hit me instead. He had a blaster burn on the side of his helmet to prove it.”

You shuddered at the thought. “He didn’t tell me that part.”

“Probably also didn’t tell you that he got shot pretty good on Toydaria.” Rex replied. “Not once, but twice, once in the leg and another straight through the chest. Kix thought for sure he was a goner.”

You were familiar with those wounds. A frown pulled your lips. “He didn’t tell me. I had to find them myself.” You grumbled, still bitter. “He’d come back from the mission and told me he’d gotten hurt, but it was nothing serious.” You threw back your drink again. “Bantha shit, if I brushed against him, he winced. Finally made him show me.”

“I’m sure he got an earful after that.” Rex laughed.

“Oh, he did. And he wasn’t even that bothered that he’d nearly died, no, he was more concerned about the fact that his tattoos had been damaged by the shots. He was worried he wouldn’t be able to get new ink over the scars.” You rolled your eyes. “That man…”

“He was just trying not to worry you.” Rex smiled, taking another drink.

“I always worry.” You murmured, rubbing your thumb along the rim of your glass. “Always. About all of you. I always worried that one day Rose would come home and tell me something had happened to Fives, Echo, you… or any of the others.” You chuckled humorlessly, finishing your drink. “And then… one day you showed up at my door instead.”

A heavy silence fell between you. Rex took your empty glass, filling it up once again.

“It seems so silly.” You said. “That he should survive all of that and then just get shot and killed during a routine supply drop. I thought he was unbreakable.” You shook your head. “Guess I was wrong.”

Rex wouldn’t look you in the eye, instead focusing very intently on the glass in his hands.

“It was quick.” Rex said finally, still avoiding your eyes. “He didn’t feel anything. I promise.”

“I know.” You gave him a small, sad smile, squeezing his bicep gently. “And I guess I have that at least. At least… at least I know he didn’t suffer. He wasn’t alone or – or afraid.”

You smiled wistfully, looking out over the skyline.

“There’s a dress in my closet,” You began. “It’s nothing fancy, just a white sundress with lace around the hem and sleeves.”

Rex already seemed to know where this was going. He took a very long drink and followed your gaze out towards the skyline.

“We were going to leave together.” You said quietly. “Get married. Have a family. He had this whole, crazy plan.” You chuckled. “I’d told him I wanted to think about it. It was a big decision, he’d be on the run for the rest of his life, hiding from the Republic. And I’d be part of that.”

You glanced over at Rex. “He told me he was going to tell you. He said we could trust you. Did he ever…?”

Rex shook his head. “No. He never got the chance.”

You nodded, turning back towards the sky. “I was going to say yes.” You whispered. “I was going to go with him when he came back. We were going to run away together… It was all very romantic.” You shook your head, staring down at your glass. “And it was so stupid.”

Rex was quiet for several long moments until finally he rose to his feet, offering you his hand.

“C’mon.” he murmured. “I think that’s enough drinking for one night. Let’s get you home.”

You nodded, taking his hand and letting him pull you to your feet. You swayed. You didn’t realize how much you’d had to drink until you stumbled, falling slightly against his chest.

“The Rose Lounge owner can’t hold her liquor?” Rex teased. “Ironic.”

“Shuddup.” You mumbled, giving him a little shove. “I can walk.”

“Oh no you can’t, Tipsy. C’mere.” He crouched down slightly, and you slumped against his back. He picked you up with ease, bouncing you once to hike you higher up his back. He wrapped his arms around your legs, holding them snug against his torso while your hands wrapped around his shoulders.

“Don’t puke on me.” Rex warned, carrying you piggyback style towards the stairs.

“’M gonna fall off.” You muttered.

“No you won’t. Trust me.”

Your eyes were heavy, cheek pressed against the back of Rex’s neck and you remembered a time very long ago when another man had carried you on his back to this rooftop, and said the very same thing.

“I trust you, Rose.”

Rex was still. You hadn’t noticed your slip, your eyes already slipping closed.

“Okay.” His voice echoed. “I’ve got you.”

I’ve got you.

~

TAG LIST:  @fat-zygerrian @ladydiomede @pro-fangirls-unsocial-life @threevie @cheesemachine44 @bubblyacey @fivedicksinatrenchcoat @loverofclones @starwarsgarbage @hockeyjedi13 @crazygirlwithasword @dar-manda-rjct @gotomarvelgal @baba-fett @whore4rex

[tennessoui]

Mobi wan stressing about Anakin wanting to leave him (both before and after they get married) and then kuwsk obi wan stressing about Anakin wanting to move out (both the Thanksgiving incident and the router incident) like man being afraid of being left behind is really an integral part of the infinite sadness and I am feeling it bigtime

🥺 oh no you're right this is part of infinite sadness and that's really sad 🥺🥺 i have this sorta related scene from KUWSK that's planned out where Anakin and Obi-Wan (post final kiss in the classroom) talk about their relationship going forward now that they know they're in love and it's a relief but it's also just all new kinds of vulnerable.

This was supposed to be a snippet and in Kit fashion it's 1.3 words i blame the fact that i was listening to @usetheforce 's beautiful KUWSK playlist . Anyway this is an exposition on the fear of being left behind something something how love is trusting the person you love that they won't leave you, even if you don't know why 🥺

Obi-Wan feels silly for having his arms crossed. It's not like this is a fight. They're not fighting. They're telling each other their secrets. They're telling each other their dreams, their hopes, their feelings. It's not a fight, but Obi-Wan feels like his crossed arms are the only thing holding his body together.

Anakin doesn't look much better. He's staring resolutely down at the carpet between his feet. He's sprung for a nice hotel room for this. He's also sprung for a double, probably so Obi-Wan doesn't feel pressured.

All Obi-Wan feels is love for this man, hopeless, endearing, enduring love.

But Anakin is right. Love is one thing. A kiss in a classroom with an audience is one thing.

Attempting to rearrange their entire lives--that's another thing. There are people at stake. The twins. There's more here than love. There's so much that can go wrong.

Anakin knows that too, that's why he hasn't looked Obi-Wan in the eye since he stuttered out his own version of I'm in love with you.

That's why they're here in this nice hotel room, thirty minutes from home. That's why they're doing this here and not in the house, so if this doesn't--if they can't--if they decide not to--

Then hopefully they won't think about this moment every time they step through the front door.

If they stand on the precipice and decide to walk backwards, to not fall off that ledge, then they still need to be able to return home. They still need to be able to look each other in the eyes.

Obi-Wan’s said his bit. Obi-Wan’s said everything he knows how to say. I’m in love with you, for a start. You have given me more than I have ever thought I wanted, let alone needed. But the truth was I needed all of it. I still do. I have a home now. That’s priceless. There’s no equivalent that I can give you in exchange. Everything I am and will be and have become is already yours. Because I love you and I had not even noticed because it just made sense. Loving you has always made more sense than not loving you.

Not in those words, of course.

But Obi-Wan’s said his bit, and Anakin’s said his too, and now there’s no more secrets.

There’s just a decision to make.

Obi-Wan uncrosses his arms and sits on the end of the bed next to Anakin, two feet of space between them. “So then,” he says.

“Do we?” Anakin finishes the thought, half-turning towards Obi-Wan to throw him a sad little smirk.

“Yes,” Obi-Wan admits. “Do we?”

“Is it bad that a huge part of me wants to say. Let’s do it. Damn the future?” Anakin asks with a huff of a laugh.

“Of course not,” Obi-Wan reassures him, reaching across the bed to rest a hand on his knee. “I would say that I understand the impulse. Damn the future. I love you. You love me--” he says these words wondrously. He still can’t quite believe they’re true, that Anakin means them the same way Obi-Wan does. “Let’s move in together.”

Anakin shoots him an incredulous look and lets out a genuine snort. “But I know...we shouldn’t do that.”

Obi-Wan fights his every impulse to retract his hand from Anakin’s knee. He knows the words have a certain truth to them. He knows what Anakin’s thinking of. He knows he has a point. It still hurts to hear. “We need to talk about it,” he says diplomatically.

“Talk about it?” Anakin sounds hurt. “Why? We both already know. What if--what if we were to--to date, to try and make this work and then we can’t? Obi-Wan, the twins love you. They love you. They’re--you’re their other parent. They need a stable home environment, they--if we--if we try and we can’t do it, then what happens to them? What happens to you and them?”

They’re worries that Obi-Wan has thought of himself ever since the kiss this morning. But it feels different to hear them in Anakin’s voice, to hear them spoken out loud. If Obi-Wan and Anakin dated and then broke up, they probably couldn’t continue living together. Obi-Wan tries to imagine living with Satine in the months following the divorce papers being signed, but he can’t.

He knows people do it. He knows himself well enough to know that he wouldn’t be able to. If Anakin were to break up with him--the only way Obi-Wan can imagine their relationship ending--Obi-Wan would need months if not years before he was able to look him in the eye again. If ever, actually.

If Anakin were to break up with him--to hold everything Obi-Wan is in his hands and cast it aside for something else, like Satine had, like...like his father had, then Obi-Wan would not be able to see him everyday without breaking down into tears and begging him for a second chance, for a detailed list of all the things that he did wrong, all the things about himself that were so wrong that no one can stand to stay for long.

“If,” Anakin says, breaking the silence when it’s clear Obi-Wan isn’t going to say anything. “If we try and then you...you leave, I don’t--”

He stops himself and clears his throat, shaking his head and looking down at his hands. “Obi-Wan, it’d break my heart.”

Obi-Wan stares at him for a second, confused and mouth slightly open. Anakin sounds as if he’s operating under some serious misconceptions.

As if Obi-Wan would be the one to leave. Obi-Wan can’t imagine there’s anything Anakin could ever do in order to make him want to leave. It’s Anakin. Seven months ago, before Obi-Wan even realized he was in love with the man, he’d gotten wine drunk with Padme Amidala and asked her quite insistently how the fuck she could have turned Anakin down, not once--but twice.

It’s Anakin.

And if...if Anakin is half as sure as he sounds that the only way they would ever break up is if Obi-Wan decided to leave, then...then maybe it’s worth jumping off that precipice. Damn the future.

But Obi-Wan thinks maybe this future won’t be so bad at all.

It’s a strange kind of numb bravery that has him moving his hand from Anakin’s knee to his palm. “Anakin,” he says quietly, and he feels as if he’s watching this happen from someone else’s point of view. Surely this isn’t Obi-Wan Kenobi about to put his heart firmly and resolutely into another’s hands. Not after last time.

But the truth is, it’s been there for years already. It’s about trust. It’s about trusting Anakin to always think that Obi-Wan could leave and never entertain the possibility that he could.

“Anakin,” he says again, until Anakin looks up at him from beneath his lashes. It’s suddenly not enough for him. He wants closer. He wants his turn to kiss Anakin and mean it.

He leans slowly in, raising his other hand to tilt Anakin’s chin up to meet his mouth. He’s giving Anakin plenty of room to move away, but Anakin doesn’t. Anakin stays.

Maybe it’s time they start giving each other more credit for that.

He feels his eyelashes flutter closed just as his lips touch Anakin’s so carefully it’s hardly a kiss at all. Butterfly wings have more substance than this kiss, but Obi-Wan would not change it for the world. Anakin needs to know they can go slow, that they can be gentle with each other. Anakin needs to know that Obi-Wan will never hurt him.

Anakin needs to know that--

“If I were capable of ever, ever leaving you,” Obi-Wan murmurs, pulling back until their lips are just brushing with every word and opening his eyes just enough to see the perfect picture Anakin makes like this, “I would have done so when Luke was going through that phase where he insisted upon only eating orange foods.”

Anakin’s eyes flutter open in shock and then the words register, and the meaning behind them does as well. Slowly, a sort of breathless smile breaks across his face.

It’s the most beautiful thing Obi-Wan has ever seen.

[najatheangel]

𝐌𝐲 𝐁𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐞

pairing: Lee donghyuck x reader (ft. nct members)

genre: fluff, angst, comedy and spice.

inspired song: Bestie by Lloyd.

summary: donghyuck’s and his s/o memories as best friends leading up to becoming lovers. (btw this one’s a little longer than the ones i usually write so beware loves.)

Haechan’s POV: June, 24th, 2018. “Today’s the day where I finally tell her how I feel. After 7 years of my friendship, growing up together and holding back my feelings for so long, Today is the day where things change. I’m tired of being stuck in the friend zone this is my one and only chance before she moves away. Now or Never Hyuck...”

“She's a bad one not a fast one. Every time we get together we have fun”

Growing up, me and y/n always were always bound to be apart of each other’s lives. We’ve grew up in the same neighborhood, our parents met each other in school, our friends are dating each other and we even go to the same school together. Sounds very corny right? It’s true though.

Our thing was always playing horror games together every night after we finish doing homework together. She was always the procrastinator so I had to give her some motivation. Not only that, we always play around the swing sets in the park that’s right in front of our houses to talk about anything and everything that was going on in our life’s.

This one time she got so drunk after Mark’s birthday party and was trying to swing so high and flew off the swing set thinking she was super man. Heh, she can be such a idiot at times. She may be one of the goofiest, bubbly and sweetest people I know. She can also be caring, overprotective and keep me calm whenever I’m always acting crazy.

I don’t remember what exact moment I feel in love with you, but I do remember feeling like as time went by, my love for you stared to grow much stronger. Everyone around us was starting to suspect how we felt about it each other especially my mom she adored you so much and loved the idea of us being together.

She would always ask “Where’s your girlfriend y/n?” Or “Aren’t you supposed to be with your girlfriend right now?” Ah girlfriend, I love the sound of that. Anyways I was grossed out at the idea at first because I only saw you as my sister once before and not to mention I was immature.

She would always ask “Where’s your girlfriend y/n?” Or “Aren’t you supposed to be with your girlfriend right now?” Ah girlfriend, I love the sound of that. Anyways I was grossed out at the idea at first because I only saw you as my sister once before and not to mention I was immature.

She would always ask “Where’s your girlfriend y/n?” Or “Aren’t you supposed to be with your girlfriend right now?” Ah girlfriend, I love the sound of that. Anyways I was grossed out at the idea at first because I only saw you as my sister once before and not to mention I was immature.

She would always ask “Where’s your girlfriend y/n?” Or “Aren’t you supposed to be with your girlfriend right now?” Ah girlfriend, I love the sound of that. Anyways I was grossed out at the idea at first because I only saw you as my sister once before and not to mention I was immature.

Once we’ve started getting much older I've tried dating other girls but none of them just didn’t compare to you. I’ve tried to joke around with them, they wouldn’t take me seriously. When I try to ask them out on dates, they would ditch me for someone else. When I try to be affectionate, they reject and always want to stay friends. I normally had luck keeping girls around, but only for a short amount of time. It seemed like every week I had a new girlfriend.

I knew y/n was always frustrated at me trying to tell me there’s other fish in the sea, but hell I want to my little mermaid and that’s y/n-ie. I even teased her about it, but she didn’t seem to take a hint.

“You know y/n... we should honestly just date. We would be the next Hyuna and Edawn in the school. They would have nothing on us.” I even nudged her on the shoulder to get her smiling.

“Hmm? Are you insane that would be too weird. We’re like brother and sister.” I could tell she was flustered, but she wasn’t exactly to thrilled with the idea. “Plus you know how I feel about Mark already. I’ve got to really wow him at this game tonight.” Oh yeah I forgot to mention she had a crush on my other best friend Mark Lee at the time.

“I know she should just be my friend Yet I'm hoping, I'm hoping that maybe it will lead In love happy end.”

It would work my nerves every time she would talk about him and always would ask advice on what to do, but I was very hopeful and believed I still had to chance to win her heart. I gush to everyone including the boys everyday about how madly in love I was with y/n without even realizing.

I would tell everyone, well except her of course. Johnny almost told my secret to everyone at Jaehyun’s house party when we were all playing strip uno. It was shut down real quickly because Doyoung gave him a long hard talk after awhile.

That night was also the worst for me because that was the same days the homecoming game where you confessed your feelings to Mark and became officially a couple. In my mind I wanted to be happy for the two of you as I watched you two kissed each other in front of everyone.

After that day, I avoided you for a while and couldn’t accept the fact that I couldn’t have you at that very moment. I couldn’t spend more time with you, hold you, kiss you, brag to everyone how much I loved you.

Although I was torn and felt defeated when you started dating Mark, I still felt a tiny bit of hope that someday I would still have a chance to make you mine and have our happy ending.

Y/N POV: June 24th, 2018. The day that I say farewell to my best friend Lee Donghyuck before going leaving to go to Harvard. I can’t believe this day has finally come we haven’t had the chance to hang out throughout our entire senior year so I want to make this count. I also want to tell him how I’ve felt about him. Let’s see where do I even start....

“We were children when we met. Just playing house and drinking sodas at the corner store.”

I remember having a hard time making friends my family moves from city to city because of my dad career as a entrepreneur for multiple companies and my mom working as a travel nurse. I was bullied for my struggling with my weight and for being an outcast which caused a lot of depression for me.

One day I remember running away from these girls in my school because they were trying to throwing apples at me. It was they’re way of trying to help me “eat healthy.” Jokes on them I was the top runner in the track team hehe.

Anyways, I lost them for a good second until I was trapped surrounded by them at the market by my house. I almost felt at lost against the 4 girls, until this crazy guy Lee Donghyuck comes out of no where scaring them away with his Freddy Kruger mask threatening them to leave me alone or he’ll haunt them in their sleep.

I felt bad for laughing, but it was one of the most nicest thing anyone has ever done for me ever since I’ve moved to Korea. He randomly introduces himself to me and offers me to play with him for an exchange of saving my life from those bullies.

“Hey my name is Donghyuck. Those girls always find their next target to pick on, but no worries princess I’m here to protect you. Let me introduce you to my other friends.”

He reached his hand on to me and ever since I was always dragged on to his crazy adventures.

“Like a brother from another. Didn't notice all the other girls they wanted more.”

Donghyuck was pretty popular when it came to having lots of guy friends and dating even when we were kids. In 5th grade on Valentine’s I remembered his desk being flooded with chocolates and anonymous love letters stuffed in backpack.

The idea didn’t bother me at first because I saw Hyuck as my older protective brother. I even slid some letters in my self saying “Happy Valentine’s Day loser. Enjoy those kits kats!” We tend to tease each other a lot, but that’s how we showed our love to each other.

People in our class including the boys Jaemin, Chenle and Yang Yang were encouraging us to date, but we just never seemed thrilled with the idea.

“Awhh c’mon you guys would be so cute together. You guys have kissed once before anyways it’s a sign.” I remember the boys would always poke fun at us, but we both would scream.

“Ew no way! Plus that kiss didn’t count it was for a school play.”

Yet every time a guy would try to ask me out, Donghyuck would scare them away because he claims that I’m still too young to date. Smh, yeah I should’ve known that it was actually because you were jealous.

“But now look at the glow up. You're the finest thing I ever seen, but you never been more than a friend to me.”

As much as I hate to admit it, but god sometimes Donghyuck can be hot...sexy...hell good looking when he wants to be. It doesn’t help that he’s teasing me about it either.

There was this one time when we were playing Mario Karts in his room and it was on a hot summer day at the time. This guy had the nerve to take his shirt off in front of me with sweat dripping on his abs, hair slightly messy to the side, and leans back with his grey sweat pants on.

GREY SWEATS!! Like cmon. I could barely concentrate on the game after awhile admiring how painly handsome. I felt very guilty because I was still dating Mark at the time, but my mind was going 2 different directions.

“Hey y/n if your hot you can take your shirt off too. I thought my mom had the mechanic fixed the ac by now so sorry about that.” There he goes sticking his tongue out like that again. Does he have no shame.

“Umm, Hyuck I just remembered I have a test on Friday to study for. Tootles!” I knew if I would’ve stayed in his room much longer I would’ve either passed out or sink deep into his tempting body leaning against mine. It was not only the heat in the room that was driving me crazy, but my beating heart that was burning my chest.

Before I tried to leave he shut the door and pushed me against the wall staring deep into my eyes. “You know princess, we don’t have a math test Friday right? I’m in the same class as you.”

This man uggh, next he proceeds to make me look at him in the eye by lifting my chin up. “D-did I say math test, silly me. I meant biology test.” After laughing awkwardly for a while I realized he wasn’t laughing with me like he usually does. It was like the vibe changed in a matter of 5 sec.

“Listen y/n...I know your dating Mark and all, but would it be wrong to just let me hold you one last time.” Yeah it would be awful, especially when your still technically half naked in front of me.

I’ve never even gotten close to kissing Mark before, yet my friend of 6 years is going to do it. So I had to run out of there before things got worse. “I-I can’t do that Hyuck. You know that wouldn’t be right. Now if you’ll excuse me.”

“I'm thinking that one day you'll be mine. And I don't wanna lose you.”

I ran home as fast as I can hyperventilating before I let myself caught any feelings. The truth was for awhile I only wanted to date Mark to try to forget about Hyuck, but after that night I’ve started to realize that I can’t escape my feelings that I have for him it’s impossible.

I love him more than anyone in this world. The thought of that saying had me laughing and crying that night.

June 26th, the day Donghyuck will have one last chance to confess his feelings before his princess y/n leaves off to go to school. Y/N and Donghyuck both run out of each other’s house and decided to meet up at the swing set after 6 years.

They both sit down sighing looking up at the orange sunset sky that’s shinning throughout the area. The two of them slowly swing looking down at the ground waiting for the other person to speak up first.

“So...I bet you probably heard the news already huh? I’ve finally got accept to Harvard. So tomorrow I’ll be going back to my hometown to begin my semester in fall.” Donghyuck responds back by saying.

“I know, I heard from my mom. She nearly cried. You know it would’ve been nice to hear from you. I haven’t seen you since last week.” Y/n finally looks up at him with tears falling down her face.

“Hyuck I’ve been going through so much this past week. I’ve broken up with Mark, my brother was stuck in the hospital and I almost had to repeat senior year if I didn’t pass that state test. So I’m sorry I didn’t contact you lately.”

Hyuck quickly stands up and hugs y/n gently by stroking her hair. “It would’ve been nice to hear your voice. I miss you and I love you.”

They both freeze up at the words he just said “Y-you what now?” Hyuck gulps at first, but then he snaps out of it ready to pour his heart out.”

“LISTEN PRINCESS I LOVE YOU OKAY?? Not just as a friend either. This whole year I never got to hang out with you and I don't know how to pretend, I hate falling in love with my best friend. That night you left my room I almost gave up on us, but I knew I had to tell you before you walk out of my life. Talk about bad timing right?”

Y/N starts giggling wiping her tears for a split second but then smiles by saying.

“I love you too Donghyuck. I have for a long time actually I just didn’t want to ruin my one and only specially friendship I had with you. I was even thinking that trying to move on by dating someone else would work, but it didn’t. Without you in my life, I am blue as the sky.”

The two of you of crack up laughing again at your embarrassing thoughts of each other, but immediately stop trying to think of what should happen next.

“We’re truly some idiots. Now we only have a few hours left of being a couple before you leave. So what happens next y/n?”

Y/n sits on Hyuck’s lap hugging him tightly and leans into his face by saying. “No worries we’ll figure this out once I move. For right now let’s just enjoy our last few hours together as a couple.”

Hyuck wraps arms around y/n waist and feels his heart skipping a beat once she starts kissing him softly in his ear. “Princess you know I’m very ticklish right there.” Ignoring his comments y/n proceeds to kiss his ear again, but then starts trailing down to his neck.

“My B-E-S-T, a true friend to me. Give me love and energy, that is what you send to me”

“Mmm keep calling me princess and I promise you I won’t be able to hold back.” He wiggles his eyebrows at your bold response and smirks by saying...

“Well what’s stoping you? We can do it right here right now on these swing sets.” He starts sliding your hands in your thighs while finally kissing you on your lips.

All that built up passion and emotion was easily displayed as you were kissing him. Not to mention the fact that he’s sliding his hand in your jeans which is making it hard for you to keep your voice down.

“Ahh keep it down y/n...Do you want the neighbors to hear you?” He teases you more by moving your hand in his jeans. “Do it for me too.”

“Lee Donghyuck, are you crazy?? Why don’t we just do this in your room. We will get caught for sure.” He pouts for a second and says

“Yes I’m crazy for you. You already know this though. How about this, we can finish this in my room and we can just tell my mom we stayed up playing games again all night long. Deal?”

“Deal!” You give him one last peck on the lips and grab him by running into his house like there’s no tomorrow. “Slow down princess!” The two of you slammed the door in his room and for the whole night you never dared to leave his side for a split second.

“It's what you do to me.”

The morning after ended up becoming very emotional for the both of you, because this is the last the you’ll be seeing each other face to face until the both of you are done with school. While he’s off becoming a singer, you’ll be on your way becoming a lawyer.

Out of all the places you could possibly move away from again your home next to Donghyuck and his family was the hardest to leave from. You made so many memories here and would cherish it for the rest of your life.

Before heading the road you give your best friend and now boyfriend one last hug and kiss on the forehead before putting your last luggage in the trunk and hitting the road to start your journey.

Although your both moving on to different paths of life career wise, you both will always have your history together and promised to reunite as a couple again when the time is right.

Thanks so much for reading this far you guys and feedback would be much appreciated. ✨

𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 🏷 : @himitsu-luna @starrdustville @xxminmixx @dundun-baby @purplepsycho03 @kpopsnowball

Send an ask if you want to be added or removed from the tag list. 💫💫💫

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

By My Side (Part 2)

Summary: Jensen and the reader grow more tense with each other at the cabin but a revelation leads to a change in more than just location...

Masterlist

Pairing: Bodyguard!Jensen x reader

Word Count: 4,300ish

Warnings: language, mention of underage drinking/accidental death, angst

A/N: Enjoy!

_________

Twenty Hours Later

“Welcome home,” said Jensen, climbing out of his SUV the same time as you. You raised an eyebrow as you looked at the cabin in front of you. “You gonna carry your shit or what? Bodyguard, not your butler.”

“When you said cabin, I thought-”

“I told you. We’re off the grid. Most off the grid people don’t have quartz countertops and crown molding in their homes,” he said. “This is as good as I could get last second.”

“As long as it’s clean,” you said. He laughed and you stared back at him. “What?”

“Okay princess. There ain’t no cleaning service out here. You want something cleaned in there, you do it yourself,” he said. He slung a duffel bag over his shoulder and tossed one at you, nearly knocking you to the ground. “I’ll even let you pick which room you want.”

“Might take the kidnapping at this point,” you said, sighing as you followed him across the dirt yard. “We drove back in here for like an hour.”

“Hour and a half actually. Nobody’s finding us,” he said. He grabbed a key from under the rock by the door and undid the lock, swinging the door open wide. “Home sweet home.”

You followed him inside and cocked your head.

“Okay, this place is a lot nicer than I was expecting.”

“I guess I’ll take that as a compliment,” he said, tossing a bag back towards a hall. You set your bag down on the kitchen table, narrowing your eyes at a picture on the wall. There was a little boy with a fishing pole and a pair of familiar green eyes staring back. 

“Is this your cabin?” you asked, nodding to the photo.

“It’s in the family. Dad let me have it when I got out of the service,” he said. “I needed some alone time to decompress a bit. It’s safe. Trust me.”

“You were a cute kid. Too bad you’re sort of an asshole now,” you said.

“You were an asshole first,” he said with a shrug.

“I’m not a fan of some stranger coming into my life and telling me how to live it,” you said.

“I’m not telling you how to live your life, Y/N. That’s not my job. Keeping you safe is,” he said. “There’s two bedrooms. We have to share a bathroom.”

“Alright,” you said, Jensen pushing open a few solid wood doors. One was furnished a bit plainly and had a queen size bed, the other a set of bunkbeds and a full bed shoved against the wall. 

“Take it,” he said, nodding towards the larger room.

“You’re bigger than me,” you said.

“Yeah, well that’s true but you’re also paying me. Take the bigger bed. The couch is a pullout anyways. Go on,” he said. You sighed and set your bag down on the bench, Jensen tossing his bag in the other room. “I need to go into town and finish getting supplies. Before I do that, we need to go over a few ground rules.”

“Of course we do,” you said, plopping back on the bed and watching a cloud of dust appear in the air.

“There’s a first aid kit in the cabinet over the fridge. There’s an emergency satellite phone there also that is to only be used in a real emergency. Washer and dryer we use once a week. There’s a solar panel on the back of the cabin that’ll help save us gas. We’re going to try and limit needing to use the generator more than we need to. There’s not much in the way of hot water. There’s a lake nearby and a few trails you can walk around but they’re probably overgrown at this point. Unless you’re in danger, never leave the premises. If you need something that’s not here or on the list, tell me now. I want to limit trips to town to once a month if possible.”

“Cleaning supplies,” you said as you sat up. “This place is dusty.”

“Alright. I’ll be back in about four hours,” he said, turning to leave. “There’s a shotgun in the gun safe. Key is in the nightstand drawer. Try to keep out of trouble.”

He didn’t look back as he left, the door opening and shutting, the sound of an engine turning on and slowly back away.

“Well. Might as well try to make this place more livable in the meantime.”

Four Hours Later

“Hey. I’m back,” said Jensen. You lifted your head up from the couch, Jensen flipping on the light switch. “You don’t have to sit in the dark.”

“You said to save the generator.”

“During the day. It’s after eight,” he said. He made a few trips in and out before he finally locked the door after himself. His nose twitched and he glanced over at you. “It doesn’t smell as musty in here.”

“A wet towel works when you don’t have a swiffer,” you said.

“I grabbed fast food,” he said, setting a bag down on the table. “Eat up. Last take out for a while.”

“I was thinking while you were gone,” you said, Jensen putting things away while you took out a burger and a box of fries.

“I bet that was difficult,” he mumbled.

“You know I’m not gonna stay here if you’re gonna be an ass.”

“I frankly don’t give two fucks. I’m here for money. You want to go do this job back home, that’s fine with me,” he said.

“Well fuck you,” you said. You got up and went outside, not getting too far from the cabin before it was pitch black. You stopped by the end of the truck, staring at the darkness you knew was the dirt trail that would eventually get you to the main road.

“Don’t be an idiot,” said Jensen as he stepped outside.

“Why do you care? I already paid you,” you said. “You know what? Why don’t you just go and leave me here by myself. That way you don’t have to hang out with the dumbass actress.”

“I never said you were a dumbass.”

“You literally said that thinking was difficult for me not two minutes ago. Maybe I don’t know every little thing about whatever the fuck badass shit you learned in murder school but I am not the helpless bimbo you think I am.”

“Do not trivialize taking a life. You have no idea what it does to you.”

“I know a thing or two. Don’t assume you know a thing about me.”

“I had a full background worked up on you. You never-”

“The summer I was a camp counselor? You remember reading about that in your little background check? Another counselor drowned at camp that year. I know a thing or two.”

“Drowning is not the same as-”

“You have no clue what I’m capable of.”

“What? You saying you did it?” he asked, crossing his arms at you. 

“It was an accident. It could have happened to any single one of us,” you said. “Don’t use that whiny little bitch excuse for being a hardass. People die and sometimes it’s your fault. It doesn’t give you a free for all to be an ass.”

“An accident isn’t the same thing,” he said. He walked over and narrowed his eyes. “Inside. Now.”

“No. I should have followed my first instinct and fired you,” you said. You spun back around, barely getting a step in as strong arms wrapped around you and lifted you off the ground. “Hey! Put me down!”

“You’re a freaking idiot,” he said as he carried your squirming self back inside. He set you down at the table, shoving your shoulder when you tried to get up. “Eat and go to bed.”

“I’m not-”

“Do you have any idea why I’m a hardass? Why that might be? If I give a shit about you, I can’t do my job because then I’m going to worry. I’m going to worry about how you’re feeling and I don’t have time for that. You had a scare, fine. I calmed you down. Out here, you have to suck it up and deal on your own. I will keep you safe but we’re not friends. We’re a boss and employee and that’s it. Eat your damn dinner and go to sleep.”

He grabbed the bag with the remainder of the food and went into the other bedroom, slamming the door behind him. 

“Dick,” you said quietly. Ten minutes later you were changed into your pajamas and crawled under the blankets, staring out the dark window. “I just wanna go home.”

You didn’t speak when you made your way into the kitchen the next morning. Jensen was sat at the table with some rugged looking laptop and a cup of coffee. It probably worked off a satellite if you had to guess. You poured a cup from the pot for yourself before heading outside with it. You walked over to the dock on the small pond nearby, staring out at the calm water as you sipped on the warm liquid.

“You didn’t kill anyone you know,” you heard behind you. You didn’t turn but did hear one of the boards creak. “Being unable to save a guy who shouldn’t have been out there in the first place doesn’t make you a murderer.”

“I was on lifeguard duty that day,” you said.

“Yeah. That day. You weren’t at work when it happened. No body made that guy go underage drinking and swimming in the middle of the night. In a thunderstorm.”

“We were all drinking. No one was paying attention to the storm. It was the first and last time I’ve ever been drunk.”

“It wasn’t your fault. It was no one’s,” he said.

“I know. You think I should get over it,” you said, wrapping your arms around yourself in the cool air.

“I was going to say, it wasn’t your fault but I get feeling responsible for things that aren’t your responsibility.”

“I guess,” you said. “You find out who this person is yet?”

“No. I’m going to be spending most of my time working at that. Don’t go too far from the cabin, alright?” he said. He began to walk away and you turned your head, looking him up and down.

“I thought you didn’t want me going outside,” you said.

“Not alone at night, no. You can’t see your surroundings. During the day, stay within eye sight of the cabin and I think it’s acceptable for you to be on your own a bit.”

“Jensen,” you said. He turned and looked at you, waiting for you. “If I pay you more will you at least try to be a little nicer like you were just now?”

“Listen to what I say and I’ll be the nicest guy in the world,” he said, heading back to the cabin. “You want breakfast, make your own.”

“Good chat, Jensen,” you said, shaking your head at him. 

When you’d finished with your coffee you popped inside to put on some clothes better suited for outside. He gave you a quick glance before you slipped on some sneakers and had a hand on the door.

“Ah ah,” he said. The chair scratched against the floor and next thing you knew, he was right there, reaching into his back pocket. He held up a small little thing and pushed a button, flipping a blade out. “Switch blade. From now on, this doesn’t leave your side ever. I don’t care if it’s the middle of the night and you’re taking a piss. It goes with you.”

“Keep it with me. Understood,” you said. He put it in your palm and nodded.

“Open it.” You flipped it open and stared at him. “Where would you use it?”

“Maybe I’ll stab the guy in the dick. How’s that sound?” you asked. He smiled a little and looked away.

“Not a bad choice. Vulnerable points if you have time to think. Aim low. Up here, rib cage will try to do its job. It may hurt but not incapacitate. Down low, you got better odds. All else fails, just try to stab something.”

“I got it,” you said, slipping it into your pocket. He took hold of your arm as you started to leave and you groaned. “What now?”

“The keys to the truck are under the rock by the corner of the house. The flat one. If you have to get out of here for some reason and I can’t take you, you take yourself and don’t think twice,” he said.

“I understand,” you said. 

“Well...enjoy your day,” he said. He dropped your arm and went back to his computer. You headed outside and started to explore before he could come up with even more rules for you to follow.

Four Hours Later

You were stood on the edge of the shore, trying to teach yourself to skip rocks on the water when you heard a rustling behind you. Your head shot back over your shoulder, Jensen wearing a strange smirk on his face.

“What’s wrong?” you asked.

“You’re not very good at that,” he said, picking up a flatter rock. “You need to flick your wrist more.”

“You know how to do everything, don’t you.”

“I spent more than a few summers here. Not a whole lot to do,” he said. “Got it all the way out to the catskills over there once.”

“You’re not worried about my lack of rock skipping skills,” you said. He shook his head and shot a rock out, getting a few skips off before he stood by your side. “I can take it. What’d you find out?”

“How often do you read in detail the contracts your manager gives you?” he asked.

“For my shows, word for word. Appearances, I skim sometimes. Why?”

“You sign anything with Boom stunt services lately?” he asked.

“I signed some insurance thing I think, so I could do a few stunts on the show,” you said. Jensen nodded and crossed his arms. “What?”

“Your manager lied to you. He thought you were getting stuck in a rut with your show, your wildly successful show, so he hired a stunt man, one you signed off on and agreed to fake kidnap you. Even the drugging part of it. To help your image. Make you appear strong but vulnerable. You actually got a lot of offers recently for good movies after what’s happened.”

“My manager…” you trailed off, balling your hands up. You stormed back towards the cabin, Jensen on your heels. “I’m gonna fucking kill him! What the fuck is wrong with him!”

“Technically, you did sign a document saying you understood the arrangement,” said Jensen. “But obviously not. Based on what I’ve found and saw happening before, there’s no credible threat against you. My suggestion would be a lawyer at this point.”

“Can you take me home now please, Jensen,” you said, squeezing your eyes shut.

“I’ll load up the truck. We’ll be back tonight.”

Later That Night

“Y/N,” said Jensen as you wandered straight over to your liquor cabinet when you got home. “He’s quitting and paying a substantial amount for you to not press charges as well as covering all of your moving costs and my pay. You don’t have anyone after you. I know it doesn’t feel like it but consider it a win.”

“I moved out of a house I loved that I can’t go back to, I’m far away from my friends, the one person in this industry I’m supposed to trust hurt me and this has been nothing but a complete waste of your time. I’m sorry, Jensen,” you said as you poured yourself a double.

“You didn’t waste my time,” he said as you sat on the counter, knocking back the liquor. He walked into the kitchen and took the bottle by your side, pouring himself a glass. He sipped his slowly, your head ducking down. “I would like to stay on as your bodyguard if you’ll allow it.”

“For what?” you asked. 

“Protection for you, same as before. This time though, I’ll make sure to keep you safe from the people you trust,” he said. You raised your head, Jensen licking his lips. “Managers, agents, anyone. The only person I will trust is you. You let me be the asshole bodyguard, scrutinize the people you work with. This never has to happen again.”

“Why would you do that? You don’t like me,” you said. He finished off his glass and set it aside, stepping right in front of you and staring you in the eye.

“I don’t recall saying that.”

“We aren’t friends. We’re a boss and employee. Your words,” you said.

“I still don’t hear the words I don’t like you in there,” he said.

“I can’t trust you to take care of me, protect me, if I think you hate me.”

“I don’t hate you.”

“You have a funny way of showing it.”

“I told you. It’s very difficult to do my job if I care about you,” he said. “But the situation has changed. The threat is smaller. Safer. I can be friendlier...if you don’t question when I ask you to do something. My job is to protect you. You have to trust that all I am ever trying to do is keep you out of harm’s way. If we can agree to that, we can find a good rhythm, one where you don’t even notice I’m there and one where I know you’re okay. The threat before might not have been real but it exposed a problem. As long as you are living alone, you need someone here, just in case.”

“We will negotiate a new contract, one I can end anytime I so choose, and will detail when and when not you are on the clock.”

“Negotiating with you will be fun,” he said with a smirk. “We have a deal?”

“Do you really think I need a full time bodyguard?”

“We can negotiate that,” he said.

“I’m serious.”

“I think powerful, pretty, single women should use the advantages available to them to protect themselves.”

“We’ll talk about it,” you said. He smiled and headed for his bedroom, your gaze following him as he walked out of view. “Jensen.”

“Yeah?” he said, popping back into view.

“We’ll figure out your new contract in the morning,” you said.

“Yes mam,” he said. “If you need anything else, you know where to find me.”

“Goodnight,” you said. He left and you lightly swung your feet, staring down at the hardwood floor. You hopped down and put the bottle back in the cabinet, taking a deep breath. 

Nothing was wrong. Nothing at all. 

But something still felt strange. You couldn’t put your finger on it. Maybe Jensen sensed it and that’s why he wanted to stay. But he wasn’t shy about coming out and telling you how it was. 

You sighed and went to the freezer, taking out a pint of mint ice cream and heading upstairs to bed, hoping a night of sleep at home would put it out of your mind.

“No way,” you said as you sat back in your chair in your home office the following morning. Jensen was smirking from the other side of the desk and was leaned back in his own, your lawyer sat at the small sofa with his laptop and typing up what the two of you were going back and forth on. “When I am filming and appearances we agree on.”

“We already agreed on those. Now we’re negotiating the parts we don’t agree on.”

“I do not need a bodyguard on the weekends. I already compromised on the you being on at night thing,” you said.

“Well, I’m going to be living in that bedroom so-”

“Actually, you’re not,” you said. He raised an eyebrow and you sat up straighter. “I decided last night that seeing as how I don’t particularly like this house and Jared and Gen just moved, I’ll be moving closer to my friends. I saw a home last night with a small guest house in the back that would be perfect for you.”

“I might as well be living in a different home at that point. It-”

“It is connected to the main home. I thought you might appreciate your own space and to be frank-”

“You don’t look like a frank,” he said. You smiled a bit, Jensen’s grin growing.

“If we’re going to have a long term relationship, which considering the possible trajectory of my career this might very well be, I’m going to have to insist on you having a separate space for yourself. You will of course have full access to the main house at all times but if I have friends over or a date, I would like my privacy. I’m sure you would like your own,” you said.

“If we’re going to have a long term relationship, any of your friends or a potential boyfriend are going to have to learn to live with me being around. No exceptions. I will give you privacy but I will be staying in the main house. As for you moving closer to friends, I welcome it. They’re my friends too after all.”

“Let me pose a hypothetical question to you. Say I meet a guy, we date, he moves in with me. Are you going to continue to live in the main house?” you asked.

“That will depend on the circumstances of your life at that point but if he’s living with you, I would move into a guest house or suite,” he said. “I may possibly move to my own place entirely. As I said, it’s going to be highly dependent on your life at that time.”

“I can agree to that. But your bedroom in the main house will have some space from mine,” you said.

“Understood. I will keep my own personal excursions out of the home,” he said.

“Good,” you said. “Now back to the weekend thing.”

“I’ll compromise with you. I am off duty on the weekend but I reserve the right to protect you if I feel you’re in danger,” he said. “I will keep to a small area of the house on my off days for your privacy.”

“I appreciate that but I won’t enforce it if you choose to watch some TV in the family room. You being off duty on the weekends does mean that if I go out, you are following though,” you said.

“Compromise. If you go out and I want to go, I can but I don’t have to,” he said. “I can use my discretion.”

“What if I want to go out with my friends?”

“Go out with your friends. I may or may not come. I’ll stay away, let you enjoy your fun without me interrupting unless I see a threat. Deal?”

“Alright,” you said. “But I reserve the right to fire you on the spot for anything and I mean anything. Two weeks pay if I do.”

“Okay,” he said. You were surprised at how quickly he accepted that but he seemed indifferent. “It sounds like we have most everything settled.”

“Rob, can you send us both a copy of the contract for review then and-”

“Oh, I have something else,” said Jensen. “A little...requirement of mine.”

“We already discussed pay and benefits.”

“Those are fine. I’ve found in the past we don’t get along when you don’t listen to me. As part of our working relationship, you will take a self-defense course chosen by myself and you will learn the different things that if you do, will make your life safer and minimize the need for me. They are for both our benefits. One’s a short book and the other a two hour class. Is that acceptable?”

“Yes. Rob, write up our contract for us please,” you said. He said he’d have it by the end of the day and you slumped back in your seat, Jensen staring at you. “What?”

“Want to go pick out a house?” he asked.

“What?”

“You want to move. It’s Sunday. Open houses.”

“Rob’s already put in an offer on the place I mentioned,” you said.

“Oh. You don’t even want to see it?” he asked.

“The pictures seemed nice. I’ll renovate what I don’t like. I’m not moving again after this,” you said.

“Oh. Cool. I will pack up most of my things in the meantime,” he said as he stood up.

“It’s Sunday. You’re not at work right now. Do whatever you want, Jensen,” you said.

“New contract isn’t effective yet,” he said. “Besides, knowing you we’ll be in the new place in a week. Might as well be prepared.”

_______

A/N: Read Part 3 here!

[lampmeeting]

D for Charles/Magnus, I for Magnus/Toki, L for Charles/Pickles, and F for Melm/JT.

eeehEHEHEHE DILF *rubs my little hands together* don't mind if i do~

D for Drunken Love Confession - Charles/Magnus

pre-klok. :') magnus has been chipping away at charles' resolve. there's just something about the bookish, put-together little chuck offdensen that makes magnus wanna break through all his defenses and see him come undone. he always did like a challenge. they have heated, passionate debates about the direction of the band. they get in each other's faces. magnus even kissed him once, but charles pushed him away, furious and blushing, and demanded he leave his office.

after six months of this weirdly charged back-and-forth they have, the band invites charles to come drinking with them to celebrate pickles' birthday. charles declines, concerned they're just inviting him to come because they want someone else to play designated driver. but magnus intervenes like "nah i'm driving tonight, promise. so go nuts." and charles seems to think it over... and eventually agrees.

so they all go out! at first charles seems to be pacing himself, but pickles gets shots, and it's all downhill from there. magnus, staying dutifully sober, watches the rest of the band + charles get sloppy and silly, not minding in the slightest the way charles leans against him a little in the booth and touches him when he laughs. he starts to regret not getting drunk himself, but he'd promised charles. it's enough just to see charles' mask slip, albeit not quite in the way magnus wanted. but he'll take it for now.

at the end of the night, magnus drops the band off at the apartment and then continues on to charles' place. he pulls up, and charles tries to get out of the car, but stumbles and falls. he's a lot more fucked up than magnus suspected. magnus helps him to the door, but charles seriously looks like he's about to black out, so he takes him inside, cleans him up a little, and puts him to bed (on his side, in the recovery position, he knows the drill). before he leaves, he can't help himself... he runs fingers through charles' sweaty hair and strokes his jaw. charles opens his eyes, seeming surprised that magnus is still there, and then... he smiles at him. a genuine smile. and as his eyes close again, he whispers something that freezes magnus in place.

"...mmfm...mmlove you..."

"...what?"

but charles is under again, and magnus leaves in a panic. charles doesn't, can't, have feeling for him. that's too much. magnus just wanted some fun, right? maybe get charles worked up enough for an angry fuck. but...love?

magnus can't sleep. the next time magnus sees charles, charles pulls him aside. "i apologize that you had to babysit me like that the other night. i can't exactly recall everything that happened, so if i said or did anything, ah...embarrassing, i'm very sorry."

so charles doesn't remember what he said. or he does and he's just trying to save face. magnus should be relieved about this, but for some reason his heart feels suddenly sore...

"oh, yeah, no...you were out like a light. don't worry about it."

--

I for "Idiots in Love" - Toki/Magnus

post-post-galaktikon. weirdly enough i'd probably write this from like nathan's pov or something. he's having everyone over to the house for some reason, maybe a holiday or his daughter's first birthday or something (her cool uncles wouldn't dream of missing it). this means..... rrugghhgh magnus is coming over. it's the first time he's interacted with magnus since pickles and charles' wedding, so maybe a good couple years, and he's not looking forward to it.

everyone arrives. toki and magnus are the last to show up, and nathan has to do a double-take because this is SO not magnus. half his hair is back in a ponytail, he's let his beard grow in some, and he's wearing a sweater?? and he's smiling? he genuinely seems happy to see nathan, gives him a hug, says a warm hello to abby.

over the course of the afternoon nathan has to keep looking at him and reminding himself that's magnus fucking hammersmith because he's just so... animated? friendly? he's sitting next to toki and they're holding hands, and when others are talking the two of them are making eyes at each other and cuddling and laughing at little things they seem to be sharing between themselves. they're being a couple of absolute goofballs together, and honestly it's a bit sickening to watch. is magnus just faking this?

at some point nathan excuses himself to the kitchen for something, and while he's in there he's joined by magnus, considerably more subdued.

"sorry, man, i just...i thought maybe we could talk for a sec."

so they talk. they catch up a little. nathan learns magnus has been hitting the therapy especially hard over the past year, making some meaningful strides. it's not an act, he's genuinely happier now. or at least trying to be.

"i mean, you know how it is, nate, right? doesn't abby make you wanna be better just because she exists and she loves you?"

okay, nathan can understand that. he still doesn't understand... them. but it really seems like magnus has turned a corner, which... good for him, he supposes. as long as he's treating toki well.

when they return to the party, nathan watches magnus sit back down with toki and give him a kiss like he'd been gone all month, and they giggle to themselves again. this time, it seems...all right.

--

L for "Love at First Sight" - Charles/Pickles

i'm gonna flip the script here!! i've already done the whole "charles sees pickles on stage and goes gaga for him" twice now... so i'd pull away from the 80s and do a fic where they actually did meet for the first time in the mid-90s when pickles was in dethklok.

so they've got their shitty original manager (the one from doomstar) still, and he's just not pulling his weight. he's managing a few other bands and his heart isn't in dethklok the way it used to be. pickles is worried they're stagnating, and when he learns that it's been magnus lately making sure they get booked, that's the last straw. they all come together, and they tell the dude to fuck off. but then this leaves them without a manager. magnus offers, but pickles has already been wary about how possessive magnus seems about the band recently, so when pickles says no the rest of them vote the same.

pickles blows through his old contacts looking to dig up some manager from his past who can either wants to manage dethklok or has connections to someone else. no dice. skwisgaar comes up with no one. magnus is still trying to campaign for himself. shit gets dire when somehow seth finds out dethklok is lacking management and leaves pickles a voicemail offering his "valuable fuckin' services". pickles blows his fucking top, swearing and screaming. "HOW HARD IS IT TO FIND ONE GUY CAPABLE OF MANAGING A FUCKIN' BAND??"

the doorbell rings, and pickles, still raging, throws it open.

"WHAT??"

"ahh!"

it's just... a dude. like a normal-ass dude. glasses. a nice dress shirt and slacks. nice hair. handsome. he's nervous as shit, but that almost makes him more handsome.

"i, ah...i-i was told that van on the street belongs to, ah...to someone here? i clipped the, ah, the bumper. just a little. but it's noticeable."

anger forgotten, pickles just... stares at him. are his eyes green or brown? and that jawline...

the man shifts his weight just a bit, peeking into the apartment with wide, curious eyes. "sorry, that, ah... that's quite the drum kit."

"huh?" pickles looks back at it and steps inside, and the man follows as if he's simply meant to be there. "oh, yeah, thanks. you play?"

"hardly. a small jazz kit in college for a friend's music project but it, ah, obviously didn't go anywhere." the man glances around and seems to realize that he's just waltzed inside. "right, ah, so about the van--" he pulls out his card. charles f. offdensen of finch & associates. an honest-to-god lawyer. huh. so he's a smart guy. good-looking to boot. knows a bit about music, apparently. and he's looking to make things right about hitting the van...

pickles smiles, hearts in his eyes. "ya like metal, charlie?"

--

F for "Fake Dating" - Melmord/Twinkletits

aaahahah... okay. so, this would be when melm is living with john as part of his continued therapy. a few months pass, and they've actually become good friends, melm thinks, not just therapist and patient. it's nice living there with john.

and then, john gets a call from his ex-wife, joy. she's in town, and she wants to come over for dinner one night before she leaves. the only thing is, she's got her new fiance in tow. she and john ended on pretty mutual terms, so there's really no bitterness there, but even so, john knows it's going to be an unpleasant evening. and then there's the question of what to do about melmord.

"you can just stuff me in a back room and pretend i don't exist. i'll be real quiet."

"absolutely not, you've been watching too many sitcoms."

"excuse you, that's jane eyre."

john just doesn't exactly know how to approach explaining melmord's presence in the house. because he knows joy, and joy will ask.

"tell her i'm a friend who needed a place to crash?"

"joy knows i don't do friends anymore."

ouch go melm's feelings.

"well, uh... you could just tell her the truth? that i'm your patient and i live with you?"

john pulls a face. "absolutely not."

in a flash of sitcom inspiration, melm snaps his fingers. "i got it! i'm your boyfriend! we'll pretend to date!"

"pretend to--?? mel, honey, no. okay? i understand you're trying to help, but--"

"but what? what's your brilliant idea, doc?"

cut to john introducing melmord to his ex-wife.

"and this is my... well, he's uh, my boyfriend actually. my boyfriend melmord."

melm is all smiles as he leans in and takes joy's hand. "please, just call me mel."

and then of course at the end of a long night, joy and her fiance leave, and john and melm pat each other on the back for a job well done. they really gave it their all, put on a convincing performance full of long embraces and doting glances and romantic touches. neither of them really want to talk about how easily it came to them, and how unwilling they both are to bring it to an end.

"well, uhh... good night, then." john chuckles. "darling."

"yeah, haha, sleep good, uh... sugarbear."

they laugh. they're standing in the hall laughing. they should really move apart from each other and go to their respective rooms if they're going to sleep, but they're not moving. and they're still laughing. and now melmord is touching john's shirt, fingering a button, and john has a hand on melm's hip...

"maybe," melm says quietly, "we can just pretend for, like... a little longer?"

[mrs-march-ahs]

what do u think would be the most risqué/dirty thing the evans would do/enjoy?

The Dirtiest Thing That The Evans Are Into

FIRST OF ALL, THANK YOU FOR 150 FOLLOWERS🥳😭 I’ve only been writing a month, I don’t deserve y’all🥰😌 I get so many amazing requests, I’m truely sorry that it takes me so so long to do them, I want to do all of your ideas justice! I promise I will do them all just please be patient with me🥺

I hope you enjoy this, I got definitely carried away lol

Tate

-Definitely be up for butt stuff

-You or him

-I think it would start as a finger up his booty while you suck his dick but I think eventually he would totally be up for you to put your little vibrator up him, or put a butt plug in his ass while he fucks you

-He would also be super up for mild exhibitionism

-Drive to the beach and have sex in the car

-He’d love 69

-He’d recommend porn to you

-The biggest punishment for him would be you sat, watching porn and masturbating, and him having to watch

-He’d be aching to touch you

Kit

Kyle

-I’ve had this idea in my head for a while, where Kit ties you up and plays with your boobs

-I’m not sure whether this would be your punishment or a treat for him but either works

-He tie you up and blindfold you and then kiss your boobs everywhere

-Leave loads of hickeys

-Suck your nipples until you can barely feel them, going back and forth

-Hand on one boob, mouth on the other, then swap, then swap again

-He’d get some ice cubes in his mouth and swirl them around so his tongue and lips are cold

-Then he’d put some nipple clamps on you (but only if you insisted that it’s okay, because he’s not particularly into harder stuff like this)

-He’d tug on it a little, and then pull it off, not realizing how intense this feels

-He’d feel bad and immediately put his ice cold mouth on them to soothe them

-Then he’d oil you up completely, head to toe

-Especially your boobs

-He’d fuck them, not quite sure how to do it, but he’d figure it out

-You’d willingly open your mouth to swallow but he’d prefer to cum on your boobs

-Then you’d go for a shower together

-Since you’re nice and clean, he’d suggest oiling you up again

-The cycle would anew

Franken Kyle

-Kyle would be most willing to mess around with the positions

-I think he’d be up for a blowie in the shower, but not much more adventurous places than that

-But that doesn’t in any way mean he’s boring

-You’d try a couple different positions in one session

-Maybe 69, whoever cums first loses

-Winner gets to go on top

-Loser has to wait until the winner cums

-Winner has to give the loser permission to cum before they do

-You’d watch porn together and masturbate together

-Maybe try to do whatever the couple in the video is doing, switching positions when they switch positions

-Into edging, he’d want you to slowly and sensually suck him off and keep stopping when he’s close, so that the session can last a long time

-He’d also want to eat your pussy while you do something else, like watch Netflix or sit on your phone

-Just so he can spend ages between your legs

-In return you’d sit and suck him off for an hour while he plays Fifa

Jimmy

-Sex with him would be weird and intense, because he wouldn’t know what ‘normal’ sex is meant to look like

-He’d go super rough and even after he cums, he’d keep going

-He’d grunt really loud and wouldn’t moan or swear, because he didn’t know that’s what you’re ‘meant’ to do

-He’d just completely relax and let any noises come out

-At the beginning of his recovery, when he got horny and didn’t fully understand what was happening, he’d just hump things

-If you cuddled and he got a boner he would grind against your ass until he came his pants

-You’d help him and straddle him occasionally and grind on him

-Then one day you show him how to jack off

-Bad mistake

-Suddenly he wants to do it anywhere

-In the middle of a restaurant he starts palming himself through his underwear and will not stop no matter how much you tell him it’s inappropriate

-So the next best thing you can do is take him to the bathroom and get on your knees for him

-The only problem being, as I mentioned before, he doesn’t realize how loud he is

-But because he’s like a puppy in his Franken state, he only understands behavior

-All he understands is that if he palms himself through his underwear in public: he gets a sucky

-So he does it all the time

-But you don’t complain

James

-I think one of his biggest fantasies would be anal

-I think he’d love how it felt

-He’d love it when you wear buttplugs, but he would never want to have anything up his own ass

-He also would love to tease you all day in public, and then get home and fuck you all night

-Even though he would pretend he doesn’t like it, he’d adore if you teased him all day

-Whisper dirty things in his ear, shake your ass for him, and then go to your caravan and act like you never did anything

-I think he’d want to fuck you outside in the field at night

-So it’s totally in public, but everybody is asleep in their tents so nobody notices

-He’d love to get drunk and have messy sex

-I think he’d love to spank you at least once

-If you were super into it, it would become a thing

-If you were naughty, he would spank you

-We also know he’s into food

-I think he’d like to lick chocolate or whipped cream off you

-You’d drizzle chocolate on his cock and then suck it all off

Kai

-What wouldn’t he be into?

-Exhibitionism definitely

- “Darling, one more dirty comment like that in my ear, and Daddy just might have to bend you over this table and punish you in front of everybody, we wouldn’t want that, would we?”

- “Who said I don’t want that?”

-The only thing he wouldn’t be up for at all is a threesome

-He’d love it if you put a plug in or a remote control vibrator and went out to a fancy dinner with him

-For the duration of an hour, he’d be slowly turning the vibrator higher and higher, and then if you got too close or a little too loud, he’d turn it off completely

-Then after a few minutes for the high to settle down, he’d turn it on low again

-It’s also well established that he has a corruption kink

-So he’d love to tie you up and fuck you over and over again until you’re a complete dirty mess

-I want to say he’d put a vibrator in you and leave you there, but I don’t think he would want you to be overstimulated with a toy

-Only he can give you orgasms

-He’d only use a vibrator if he can stop it last minute and make you actually cum himself

-If he found out you masturbated without him, he’d be furious

-He’d throw you dildo/ vibrator away and punish you with chastity

-But after like three days, he’d get sick of it and he’d get you to suck his dick all the time

-You’d happily do it, but you’d get way too turned on from it, so you’d beg him to do something to you, so he would spank you or belt you

-He’s literally into anything

-As long as you remain sweet

-Super into rope and bondage

-I think the most intense thing he’d do, is share you

-He’d tie you up like a rope bunny and put a gag in your mouth, then leave you in the basement for a bit for you to just sit and wonder what’s going to happen to you

-He’d come downstairs with Samuels and Harrison

- “I want to teach the boys how to please a woman, I’m going to use you as my training dummy, I know you won’t mind”

-You’d be shocked and wriggle around but everything you did, even if it was bad, Kai would make it sound like it’s good

- “She’s shaking in anticipation”

-Samuels would fuck you and Kai would sit and watch closely, not caring about him, only caring about you

-He’d occasionally turn your head to look at Samuels not him

- “Kai is it okay if I cum in her?”

- “You want Samuels to fill your dirty pussy with his cum?”

- You’d try to scream but the gag would stop you, so you’d be left making loud intelligible noises and shake your head

-But Kai would twist it

- “She’s moaning, she’s practically begging you to fill her up”

-He might even encourage Harrison and Samuels to try double penetration on you

-You’d be hesitant but they’d do it and you’d be super into it, making Kai mad

-When they leave, he’d fuck you all night long, making sure you’re enjoying sex with him more than you did with them

- “Who can fuck this pussy better? Those clowns, or your Divine Ruler?”

-Again, it didn’t matter what you said with the gag in your mouth stopping you, so he’d hear what he wants to hear

- “That’s what I thought, slut”

-He’d belt or whip you afterwards and make you say thank you after every one

- “Thank you for using me, Divine Ruler”

- “I’m grateful to be your cum whore”

- “It’s an honor to be used by you”

-He’d make sure the next cult meeting you’re wearing something revealing, so that everybody knows he whipped you good

-Marking his territory

-( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

-also Kai likes piss

[just-jordie-things]

65. For the kiss prompt for a zuko x reader

prompt 65: one small kiss, pulling away for an instant, and then devouring each other ___

“You’re really stupid sometimes, you know that?” You murmur, even though you want to scream in his face.

It’s not like you to lose your temper, especially on Zuko- although he truly did deserve it sometimes- but you were blinded by your own fears as you scurried about the apartment.

He’d come home very late, only to find you waiting up for him, your arms crossed and your gaze piercing as he crept in through the door.  He’d been caught red handed, the mask still on his head, but he had instantly thought that running away would be his only option.

Of course, as soon as he’d stepped into the light and you’d seen how bloodied and bruised he was, your anger dissipated and your anxiety took over.

Now he was sat on the couch, watching you rush on the tips of your toes as not to wake his resting Uncle, and gathering the supplies you’d need to bandage him up.

“I mean, how foolish must you be?” You asked him in passing.

You’d been pacing for some time now, muttering to him every time you walked by.

“What would you have done, spirits forbid, if someone had recognized you? Hm?”

Finally you sat down, forcefully, and although he was staring at you intently, you couldn’t meet his eyes.

You used a dropper to apply a little bit of rubbing alcohol onto a cotton cloth, and shook your head.

“What was I supposed to have done then?” You grumbled.  “If someone recognized you, then you would have been captured.  Yo would have been taken away from me- and then- and then...” 

You trailed off, your brows furrowed and your eyes focused solely on the cloth in your hands, before you reached up to his face and gently began to wipe away the blood.  

“This may sting” You whisper, your voice softer than it had been moments ago, and when he winced at the small sting of the alcohol against an open wound, you winced too.  He noticed.

“I’m sorry,” He mumbles, and for a brief moment, your eyes meet, but you just as quickly go back to tending to his cuts.  “But I didn’t get caught, just roughed up a little, it was a pretty even fight” 

Your hand dropped from his face, and your brows furrowed again as you finally looked him in the eyes.

“Is that supposed to make me feel better?” You hiss, and smack his arm with the cloth before dropping it back into your little medical kit.

“Um, yeah?”

“Zuko, you idiot,” You seethe.  “You came home hurt, very hurt-”

“It’s fine, it’s just some blood and bruises, it’s really nothing to get worked up about” 

You gape at him for a moment, and he’s confused as to why you were so upset with him.

But your eyes are glossy and he knows he’s hurt you, he just doesn’t know how, or how to make it better.

“You don’t get it, at all,” You whisper, your voice cracking from the tears that you were trying to hold back.

You get a fresh cloth so that you can wipe the blood off his face, your fingers nothing but gentle as you maneuver around the sensitive skin.

“You never have” You murmur, more to yourself than him, and his heart sinks.

“(y/n),” Zuko says, and reaches to take your hand away from his face, and bringing your attention back to him.  “I really am sorry, I should have told you that I-”

“That’s you're the Blue Spirit? Or that you’re an idiot?”

He makes a face at her sarcasm, one that normally would have made her laugh, but she doesn’t.

“I’ve known you a long time, Zuko,” You sigh.  “I think I’ve even known you longer than anyone else, I’ve definitely been with you longer than anyone.  But I’ve known you for long enough to know that I- I can’t bear to see you hurt, I- I physically can not take it” 

Now it’s Zuko’s turn to cinch his brows as he regards you with concern, he’s still a little confused, but he’s starting to understand.

You care about him, a lot, it seems.  Maybe even as more than a friend.

“I’m sorry,” He says again, clearly this time.  “I should have told you” 

“No, what you should have done is nothing,” You whimper, your tears starting to fall and you turn your head so you can wipe them away with some of your dignity left intact.  “You should have just stayed home, where you were safe, and not be so- so stupid!” 

He shushes you as you raise your voice, hands reaching out for yours, and turning you back towards him.

“I know, I know,” He murmurs, grasping your hands tightly.  “You’re right, you’re always right” 

This earns him a small scoff from you, but it’s accompanied by a faint smile, and it lifts his heart a little.

Tentatively, he reaches one hand up to your face, smoothing over your neck, his thumb resting against your jaw as he gazes fondly at you.

The tears on your cheeks kept falling, although he made an effort to wipe them away, even if he had to do it one at a time.

“We’ve come a long way,” You tell him, your voice shaky, and your eyes falling shut, both to stop your crying and so you didn’t have to look at him.  “And I don’t want that to be for nothing,” 

A little smile tugs at the corners of his lips, it’s a smile that’s reserved only for you, because you’re the only one who can make his heart leap and express himself before he can stop himself like that.

“And if you die doing something stupid-”

“You’re overthinking, I was never going to die,” Zuko chuckled, cupping her face in both of his hands.  “And you’ve done stupid stuff too, you know” 

“Well that’s different-”

“How?”

“Because I care about you, Prince Zuko,” You huff, your eyes opening to meet his.

The moment is charged, and suddenly, you’re all too aware of how close you are, and how warm his hands feel against your skin.  You start to feel yourself pressing your face further into the palm of his hand.

“Unfortunately” You finish in a murmur, and his small smile grows a little wider.

“How very unfortunate, Lady (y/n)” He replies.

You let out a short, breathless laugh, your cheeks turning pink from the title you so hated to be called by anyone but him.

But oh, how lovely it sounded coming from him.

As your eyes flicker over his features, Zuko comes to the realization that he can’t think of anything except kissing you right now, and how inviting and perfectly kissable your lips look right now.

And so in a moment of weakness- or strength?- he leaned in and kissed you. It was nothing more than a peck, over so fast that when he pulled away, you almost didn’t believe that he’d done it.

You blinked, your eyes wide as saucers as you stared at him disbelief.

For a brief moment, he thought he’d just made a huge mistake, but then you broke into a grin and you leaned right back in.

He met you halfway, his hands secure around your jaw as he guided your lips right back into his, your own hands landing on his chest haphazardly as you kissed him fervently.

His lip was split, but you paid it no mind, and apparently neither did he as he kissed you even harder, like he was trying desperately to convey every last emotion he felt for you right now.

Your hands reached out for his shoulders, steadying yourself, before deciding to shove them into his hair, your own movements desperate as well as you grounded yourself to him.

His tongue was swiping over your lips as soon as they parted, and you all but threw yourself into his lap, intoxicated too much from the electrical charge between you to care about anything but the boy before you.

“Don’t ever do something that reckless again,” You panted as his lips left yours to trail along your jaw, down your neck, and onto your shoulder.  “I’ll kill you myself if you do” You finished, still trying to catch your breath, but it was virtually impossible with the warm feeling of his mouth on your skin.

He pushed the sleeve of your shirt down to expose more skin and give your shoulder more attention.

“I believe you” He chuckled, and left one last lingering kiss to your skin before tilting his head back to look up at you.

Your hands slid around his neck, resting gently there, before you leaned in and captured his lips in a significantly softer but long kiss.  You held it until you couldn’t possibly hold your breath any longer, and you didn’t dare pull away further than necessary to speak.

“You’re so stupid, my prince” You murmur affectionately, every word dripping with love and adoration, and he knew it.

His hands grip at your waist, pulling your hips against his and all but slamming your chest against his.  A soft gasp escapes you from the sudden action, but he can feel your smile ghosting over his lips, and your own hands tighten in the slightest around his neck, getting a proper hold of him.

He has a dopey sort of smile on his face, in fact, he looks drunk as he gazes at you, but you drink it up, and feel warm under his stare.

You can’t help but lean in and kiss him passionately, and suddenly you’re both all hands and tongues again as you collapse against the sofa, trying hopelessly to get enough of each other. ___

reblog if you want to choke (and/or be choked by) zuko :) xoxo ~ jordie

[moonshotsx]

Can we have more of the cruise au with divorced Rosé? I was curious about where you intended to take it 💖

i may have gotten carried away with it because i thought y’all didn’t like it because i never received a prompt for a continuation 🥺 but here it is 💞

—

Rosé sipped on her glass of wine as she relaxed in her suite when she heard a thud coming from just outside her door.

She set down her glass to go investigate the strange noise.

When she popped her head out to the corridor she was surprised to see Denali holding her hand as she muttered a string of curse words in what seemed like Spanish.

“Denali?”

The brunette’s eyes widened when she realized who was calling out her name, “Uhm, hi?”

Rosé couldn’t help but furrow her brows as she noticed the other woman’s hand, “What happened to your hand?”

Denali cleared her throat, immediately hiding said hand behind her back, “Oh, this? Well, ehm, I maybe have gotten a little too drunk last night with the other girls and I kind of… hit a wall? And left a whole in it?”

The redhead was concerned as well as strangely amused at the situation, “That… wasn’t what I was expecting,” she admitted, getting closer to Denali to take a better the injury, “May I?”

The brunette slowly gave in, letting Rosé’s hands gently inspect her own. She hadn’t noticed the woman’s sweet perfume the last time they met, probably due to the overpowering scent of the sea.

“It doesn’t seem bad, just some cuts that need attention, I should have a first aid kit in my suite,” she continued, then she looked up, taken aback with how close Denali’s face was, “If you feel comfortable following me to my suite,” she added, hoping to not sound too demanding.

It took a moment for Denali to register Rosé’s words, too busy getting lost in her hazel eyes.

“…nali?”

The brunette shook her head to regain her composure, “Sorry, what were you saying?”

A small smile appeared on the redhead’s face, “Sure you didn’t bang your head as well? C’mon, lemme help clean those cuts for you”

Denali followed behind Rosé as they entered the suite.

Despite having worked for the cruise ship line for almost a year by that point, the brunette had never been inside the first class suites.

It was almost as big as her apartment back in Chicago, the rich mahogany woods complemented the red and gold of the furniture.

“Sit there while I go grab the kit,” Rosé ordered her, pointing at one of the couches in the open space living area.

Denali quietly sat down, still admiring the luxurious room.

Moments later, Rosé came back and sat next to her, taking a few things from the metal box and began to work on Denali’s hand.

“This is gonna burn a bit,” the redhead gave her almost no warning before she started to clean the cuts, causing the brunette’s breath to hitch.

She tried not to jerk away from Rosé’s seemingly expert hands, something that didn’t go unnoticed by the redhead.

“Good girl, just a little bit longer and I can start bandaging your hand,” she said, not looking up to see Denali’s face redden up.

As Rosé started to cover up the injury, Denali thought it was a good moment to find out more about the beautiful woman in front of her, “So, you seem to know your way around injuries, are maybe you a doctor?”

Rosé chuckled, “No, I just have a four year old with an inkling for playing outside,” she replied, finishing up the bandages, “All done”

Denali took back her hand, slowly moving it to see if it was bothering her too much, “So, you have a kid? Where is…”

She inadvertently looked down to Rosé’s hands, noticing the absence of any wedding ring.

The redhead caught on what Denali was looking for, “I’ve divorced Siobhàn’s father just recently,” she went to pick up her phone to show a picture of her little girl.

“Oh, uhm, sorry to hear that?” she wasn’t quite sure what to say but was quickly shut down by Rosé.

“Don’t be, that asshole had been leeching off my money for far too long, I won’t be surprised when his mistress leaves him as well when she realizes he’s got no money,” she replied before showing her phone’s screen to the brunette.

It was a picture of Rosé holding a smiling toddler that matched her red hair, her cheeks plastered with freckles.

Her eyes were what caught Denali’s attention, they were slightly different in color from each other, one took a bluish-green hue while the other resembled more of the hazel of Rosé’s eyes.

She was unmistakably the woman’s daughter.

“That’s my little Bonnie,” Rosé confirmed with a smile.

“She totally looks like you,” Denali replied, looking up to watch Rosé’s face. She really looked so beautiful under the soft lights of the suite, “And she’s lucky to have such a nice mom that puts up with someone like me”

The redhead laughed, “You’re honestly the highlight of this cruise so far, other than the free complimentary room service”

Denali was about to reply when her phone ringed. When she saw the name of the head coordinator, she knew she couldn’t stay put any longer from work, “I guess I have to go,” she sighed, “Thank you so much for this,” she held her hand up.

“Maybe you try to stay away from the alcohol for a bit, uh?” Rosé teased, accompanying Denali to the door.

“And maybe you should come and see the show on ice? I promise it’s not all that bad,” she smiled while Rosé put her hand on the small of the brunette’s back as she let her out of the suite.

Rosé let her eyes roam over Denali’s figure for a moment before replying, “I’ll think about it”

[beautifultypewriter]

Arthur Shelby Fluff Alphabet

Requested: Yes / by my absolute fav @fandom-puff​ and also an anon

Warnings: Some mentions of alcohol and Arthur’s issues

Full credit to whoever created this template (I still don’t actually know who that is). Gif credit to the owner. Also, I changed the prompt for letter Q from quaint to quickstep.

Also, I love this gif? It’s so soft.

A = Attractive (What do they find attractive about the other?)

Arthur loves your hands. He loves the softness of them and the gentleness of your touch. He finds so much comfort in standing before you, your hands resting gently on his face as his eyes slip closed and he holds your wrists. Then you start to rub small circles on his cheekbones, and he swears he could die a happy man right then and there. He loves taking your hands into his and he especially loves to press kisses to your knuckles and palms.

B = Baby (Do they want a family? Why/Why not?)

Absolutely wants to have babies with you. He thinks you’d be the most incredible parent and he can’t wait to see you with your children. Family is extremely important to Arthur and he wants to have one of his own, so he’s down for kids whenever you are. There is that little voice in the back of his head telling him that he’s going to turn out like his own father, but it’s quickly silenced by you. Arthur sees how strong and caring you are and he knows that he can do anything so long as you’re right there by his side.

C = Cuddle (How do they cuddle?)

He’s all limbs and he’s lean, but he loves to cuddle. Usually, the two of you only ever cuddle when you get into bed after a long day. You two face each other and he’ll pull you close to his chest. One of his legs will tangle with yours and his hands will move to the back of your head, getting tangled in your hair. Your hands will rest on his chest or cup his face and it’s so quiet and peaceful that he never wants to leave.

D = Dates (What are dates with them like?)

Arthur is more into low-key dates. He will, on occasion, take you to a fancy night club, but those nights are few and far between. He prefers more quiets nights with you where he doesn’t have to fight other people for your attention. The two of you go to the Garrison a lot and sit in the private room, drinking and talking. Arthur loves to take you for drives around the country because it gives the two of you the chance to be alone (which is his favorite). Honestly, though, Arthur will pretty much do whatever you want, so you two have gone on a lot of different types of dates.

E = Everything (You are my ____ (e.g. my life, my world…))

Home.

You are the most important person to Arthur. You are warm and safe, and you don’t judge him. These are all things that Arthur associates with the perfect home, so to him you are the perfect home. He doesn’t need much else if you’re there.

F = Feelings (When did they know they were in love?)

Arthur first knew he was in love with you the first time he brought you home to meet his family. The Shelby family is a bit chaotic and can be a bit intimidating, especially to people who haven’t known them for years, so Arthur was a little bit nervous to be bringing you to dinner at Polly’s. He didn’t want them all to scare you away. He was pleasantly surprised when you not only held your chin up the entire time, but you were kind to everyone, treating them like they were any normal family and like you weren’t frightened of them at all (which he later learned you really weren’t). Arthur watched you sit at the dinner table and hold your own with Polly and Tommy and he watched you smile at everyone and ask them questions and he just knew. He knew that you would fit perfectly into his life and he only hoped that he’d fit perfectly into yours as well.

G = Gentle (Are they gentle? If so, how?)

Arthur tries so hard to be gentle with you. He has his issues. He knows this, but he would never intentionally hurt you, so he takes extra care to be gentle. Sometimes, if Arthur’s had a bad day, he’ll hold you a bit too tightly. He doesn’t mean to do it and he’s quick to loosen his grip, his movements becoming slower and more purposeful. He just wants to be as gentle with you as you are with him.

H = Hands (How do they like to hold hands?)

Arthur absolutely adores the feeling of your hand in his. He will take any moment he can to hold your hand and he does not care if it’s inappropriate for the situation. Family meetings? You’re sat next to him and Arthur has your hand clasped in his. Walking home from the Garrison? Arthur has a tight hold on your hand as the two of you stumble down the cobblestones. Arthur’s hands are always really warm, so if your hands are cold then he will happily warm them for you.

I = Impression (What was their first impression?)

When Arthur first saw you, his thought was that you didn’t quite fit into Small Heath. You were this light that stood out from the gray smog and he wondered what you were doing in such a dull place. What had brought you here? When you smiled at him, though, he found that he didn’t quite care, he was only glad that you were there.

J = Jealousy (Do they get jealous?)

Oh yes. Arthur has a lot of insecurities and he’s not always in the right headspace. This can translate into jealousy if he sees other people trying to make a move on you. His first instinct is always to storm over and pick a fight with the offender. Whether or not he actually does this depends on how much alcohol he has consumed. Drunk Arthur almost never makes good decisions, so if he’s had a lot to drink and he sees someone flirting with you, you can bet that he’s going to start throwing punches. He always feels really bad about it later and he avoids your gaze out of shame. Sober (or Mostly Sober) Arthur has better impulse control, so he’s able to hold himself back a bit. He still storms over, but he gives the offender the chance to back off before he gets physical. He wraps an arm around your waist and tells you that you look beautiful. All of this stems from the thought of losing you which is the scariest thing to Arthur. He can’t lose you and if his brain is muddled then he’s willing to do anything to make sure that doesn’t happen. He knows it’s wrong though and he’s promised to control himself, which he is making progress with, it’s just going to take some time for him.

K = Kiss (How do they kiss? Who initiated the first kiss?)

Arthur’s kisses are usually needy and fast at the start, but they always melt into something deep and comforting. He wants to be as close to you as he can whenever he can and that comes out in his kiss. Once he’s had a minute to relax and melt into you, though, he’s much calmer and he’s able pull back a bit and gain better control.

You initiated the first kiss. Arthur had come over to your place for dinner and he had been exceptionally quiet, obviously nervous about something. You had found the entire evening comical as he tried to hold a normal conversation with you, but getting tongue tied at the oddest moments. Finally, you just looked into his eyes, “I’m going to kiss you now, Arthur.” And you leaned across the table and pressed your lips to his. He was shocked, but he kissed you back, chasing your lips as you pulled away. You smirked at him, “Feel better?” He nodded and lunged across the table, capturing your lips again.

L = Love (Who says ‘I love you’ first?)

He did. It was after he had been in some fight that you didn’t ask too many questions about and you were patching him up in your kitchen. He had stumbled through the door and you quickly grabbed your first aid kit and sat him down in one of the chairs. It was quiet between the two of you as you cleaned the blood from his face, slowing your movements when you noticed him wince. He watched you intently as your eyes roved over his face, not once meeting his eyes. That’s when Arthur grabbed your wrists, halting your movements and causing you to look into his eyes. He leaned into your hands, “I love you.” You smiled at him, watching his eyes close before pressing your palms lightly against his cheeks. His eyes flew open and you nodded at him, “I love you too, Arthur.”

M = Memory (What’s their favourite memory together?)

Arthur’s favorite memory is of the moment the two of you first met. You were walking down Watery Lane and he had been so distracted by you that he accidently bumped into you and almost knocked you to the ground. He cursed himself and made sure you were okay, getting ready to scurry away, embarrassed, but you stopped him. And you smiled at him and he felt a flutter in his chest, and he knew he needed to see that smile again. This is his favorite memory, the first time you smiled at him.

N = Nickel (Do they spoil? Do they buy the person they love everything?)

He tries to because he’s Arthur and he feels like he needs to take every opportunity to show you how much he loves you. Usually he buys you gifts when he’s done something wrong and he’s working hard to make it up to you. You always try to tell him that it’s unnecessary, but he just brushes you off with a smile and a kiss to the temple, telling you that nothing is too good for you.

O = Orange (What colour reminds them of their other half?)

Pink

You are light and comforting and full of love. When Arthur looks at you, he is reminded of everything good and wonderful and a certain softness overtakes him. A softness best associated with the color pink.

P = Pet names (What pet names do they use?)

‘Love’ is a big one with Arthur. He just loves you so much, he has to let you know (by literally calling you love – he isn’t subtle). He calls you ‘love’ all the time, it kind of just slips out after your name, “Y/N, love.” Another one that Arthur likes is ‘darling.’ He doesn’t use this one as much as ‘love’ which actually makes it a bit more special when it slips past his lips. This is the one that is mostly used in private. His family has heard him say it maybe twice, but you’ve heard it much more. Arthur gets teased a lot for the pet names, but it will never stop him from using them.

Q = Quickstep (How do they feel about dancing?)

Arthur definitely loves to watch you dance. On occasion, he will take you out to a fancy nightclub and watch you dance. He loves to see how happy and relaxed you become while you sway to the music. You always try to get him to join you, but he shakes his head, saying he’s fine just enjoying the show. This never fails to make you roll your eyes at him and you decide to go back to dancing. Later that night, when the two of you stumble into your home, your shoes in Arthur’s hand, he pulls you close to him. The two of you slow dance on the living room rug, your bodies pressed close together and Arthur’s breath fanning over your face. There’s no music, but you don’t need it; you’re fine with the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.

R = Rainy Day (What do they like to do on a rainy day?)

The two of you love a rainy day because everything seems to just slow down. Neither of you are in any rush to get going, so you sleep late and take your time getting up. Arthur steals a few kisses as the two of you cuddle in bed. You make a big breakfast and the two of you sit across from each other, listening to the sound of rain as you enjoy your tea. Arthur smiles over at you every five minutes and when the two of you are done eating, you move into the other room where you sit on the sofa together and talk. Arthur builds a fire to keep you warm and he makes sure that you’re comfortable on the sofa.

S = Sad (How do they cheer themselves/others up?)

Arthur had never been one to try and cheer himself up. He was always one to drown his feelings in a bottle and wake up the next morning, push the headache aside and get back to business. Then you came along, and Arthur started to actually talk about his feelings. He was still pretty guarded, but he let you in enough that just talking to you made him feel better. Kisses never hurt either. When you see that Arthur is caught in his feelings, you place yourself in his lap, your hands gently cupping his face, and you press your lips to his forehead, his nose, his cheeks, and finally his lips. When you’re sad, Arthur just goes straight for cuddles. He knows you like to physically feel that someone is there for you, so he wraps his arms around you and presses kisses to your neck.

T = Talking (What do they like to talk about?)

Other than your day to day talking, the two of you do most of your talking at night when it’s just the two of you tucked away at home. At this time, Arthur asks you to tell him stories. Stories about your childhood or stories about what you see in the future. He loves stories and he loves to lay his head in your lap and listen to you tell them. You always make sure that he knows he can talk to you about anything. He’s usually a bit hesitant to open up about the war or the business, but there have been a few times where the weight of it all was just too much and so he shared some deep feelings with you. You listened closely and offered comfort and it was a really beautiful moment for him to be able to trust you like that. He knows he can tell you anything and you’d never leave him.

U = Unencumbered (What helps them relax?)

In order for Arthur to relax, he needs to be away from other people, in a quiet place, and with no chance of interruptions. Arthur’s mind runs a mile a minute, so it can be difficult for him to calm down. In the past, he turned to alcohol to slow his mind and to numb his body, so that he could find some peace. Now, he tries to use alcohol less frequently because he knows that it’s messing with his time with you. Instead he just tries to find a quiet place where he can cuddle with you and turn his brain off.

V = Vaunt (What do they like to show off? What are they proud of?)

You. Arthur thinks you are the most amazing person in the world and he still can’t believe that you chose him over everyone else and he loves to talk about that fact. Probably more than he should, but he can’t help it. It’s not even like he’s bragging, he’s more in awe than anything else. He still gets on everyone’s nerves though when he gushes about you and how he really doesn’t deserve you, but he has you anyway and that’s amazing.

W = Wedding (When, how, where do they propose?)

Arthur took you on a long drive through the country, pulling over by a babbling brook and putting the car into park. It was quiet between the two of you for some time. You were enjoying the peace and the scenery and Arthur was trying to work up the courage to pull the ring from his pocket. You had noticed his fidgeting, buy you said nothing about it, knowing that he would tell you what was going on when he was ready. The sun was starting to set and from the corner of your eyes, you saw Arthur’s hands moving. You figured he was starting the car up, getting ready to head home. You were wrong though as you saw him turn his body to face yours. As you moved to face him, he started his speech about how you were the best thing to ever happen to him and he didn’t want to spend a single moment without you. Then he pulled out the ring and asked you to marry him. You wiped away the tear that had formed in the corner of his eye and nodded, a quiet ‘yes’ passing your lips.

X = Xylophone (What’s their song?)

Hard to Love – Lee Brice

(I defy anyone to listen to this song and not immediately think of Arthur.)

Arthur knows that he’s not the easiest person to deal with and he knows he makes things difficult sometimes, but he’s so grateful to you for loving him. He thinks he doesn’t deserve you, but he loves that you stay with him. He sees the two of you as opposites in a sense and he wishes he was more like you, softer and gentler, so that he could be someone who deserves you. You always tell him that he’s the perfect amount of soft and strong though.

Y = Yes (Do they ever think of getting married/proposing?)

There is so much love between the two of you that it’s no surprise that Arthur wants to put a ring on your finger. He wants the two of you to be a “proper” family, married with kids and together forever. Now, just because he knows he wants to marry you, it doesn’t mean he’s any good at asking. He’s nervous and worried that you’ll say no, so it takes him some time to actually pop the question, but once he does, he’s completely elated as he hears your “Yes.”

Z = Zebra (If they wanted a pet, what would they get?)

Arthur wants to get a big dog to keep you company around the house when he has to go out for business. He’d also like to think of this dog as some form of a guard dog, so he knows you’ll have someone that has your back when he can’t be there.