#i will no longer be accepting head pats and hi fives

[randomjreader]

Bad buddy truly has me in a fucking chokehold rn, like how am I supposed to recover from this show? How is any asian BL supposed to top this one? My expectations for any new BL that gmmtv releases now is gonna be through the roof bcs clearly, as we have seen, IT CAN BE DONE

[fluffylino]

no nut november with minho 🍮

you realise eating pudding is his way of controlling himself...

-contains suggestive themes (plz he's pudding boy)

you think minho is great at holding out.

its november and from the very first day of the month, he grumbled about how stupid the whole idea was.

accepting the challenge when you tell him you made a bet with jisung for fun.

both of you being full of pride could not possibly lose to jisung, who you were sure would end up jerking off on the 2nd day of november.

to your surprise, he had faithfully vowed to practice no such actions.

minho, on the other hand seemed to get through his days fine. a little too fine, because even you found it difficult to not drool over your boyfriend.

you know him to the extent that you know how he sticks to challenges.

there is no way he would ever let y'all lose against jisung. just so he could rub it in his friend's face about being the winner.

he does the normal things he does. washing up, sitting with his head on your lap after a long day, eating pudding with you.

lots and lots of pudding.

dozens of them stacked in the lower shelf of the fridge.

its the 26th of november and you have to admit its getting harder and harder. for you atleast.

"min, whatcha doing in the fridge?"

you walk into the kitchen, finding him crouched down. he had been there for longer than five minutes.

"mmhmm" is all you make out with what he's saying.

"huh?" walking over to him in confusion.

"m' eating pudding" he tries to say more clearly. and you peek over the fridge door to see three empty glasses of pudding.

"didn't you just eat pudding like two hours ago?"

and he blinks at you extremely slowly.

still seated on the floor with a glass of pudding in his hand. keeping his eyes locked on yours as he feeds himself another spoonful.

in defiance. like a cat doing something its not supposed to do but would do it anyway to prove that its not listening to you.

"you're an addict. i swear, you're addicted to pudding!"

you laugh. patting his head even though you know the risks of doing that.

"a man needs his pudding to keep going"

minho mumbles while going as far as to tipping his head back to lick the inside of the container clean. it does something to you and you mentally slap yourself.

if he was so good at keeping himself sane, you were sure you could do it too.

"theres caramel on your nose pfft"

the thick sugary substance painting the tip of his nose. theres some more on his chin and...

"minho, you have it on your cheek too!"

it was getting funnier. and he glared at you, clearing his throat.

"i was hungry." he mutters, packing up the other puddings. you notice his eyebrows furrowing in discomfort when he stands up.

typical old man behaviour.

"give me a hug" you whisper, wanting to actually hug him.

maybe being close to him would make your unforgiving sex deprived mind shut off for a while.

"no" closing the fridge and placing his hands on his hips.

"minhooo give me a hug, please?"

standing on your tip toes to peck the tip of his nose. he turns his head away, trying to control his expressions.

you take the chance to catch him off guard, jumping onto him to tackle him into hugging you. he playfully matches your energy until he freezes in your hold.

"ah-"

a small moan escaping his lips. his eyes widening while he bites down onto his bottom lip. stopping any other noise from leaving him.

your mouth dropping open in shock when you feel his hard-on pressing against your thigh.

"did you get a boner-"

"no."

he whispers, masking his surprised expression with faux annoyance. you squint at him with a glimmer of mischief in your eyes.

"were you eating pudding to distract yourself?"

"...no."

placing his hands on your shoulders to lightly push you away. creating some distance between your bodies.

"im not that deprived, trust me" minho mumbles quietly. your lips pursed together.

"what if i say its getting harder for me..." you mutter, moving closer to him. he doesn't stop you.

"really, baby? can't live without my dick for a month?"

you stay silent. looking away from him sadly. you're not embarassed anymore.

because now you know how he copes when he gets horny. pudding!

"...can't live without you either" and you smile. happy that he admits it.

he groans, throwing his head back dramatically. squeezing his eyes closed.

"god, i can't stop imagining you crying my name when i push into you. its haunting me. for fuck's sake"

minho grumbles, groaning when you hug him again. his arms wrapping around you.

"and i can't stop thinking of you pushing my head down into the bed while you fuck me from behind"

you pull your phone out of your pocket hastily when it buzzes nonstop.

"its jisung..."

"what'd he say?"

"he...LOST!"

you shriek. practically jumping onto minho. trusting him entirely. he picks you up with no struggle.

"does that mean..."

"yes. im fucking you. right now."

"but november isn't over!"

"jisung lost. our opponent lost. that means this stupid no nut shit doesn't apply to us anymore" he grumbles. you catch onto him tight when he practically darts to your shared bedroom.

"admit it...you missed it, didn't you"

a huge smile on his face. a glimmer of pure happiness in his eyes. like how he'd look at his favourite pudding.

"have you ever seen me this excited before-"

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

pudding boy lino. i watched his whole live and then ate pudding🍮

[love-of-the-red-star]

That time I got reincarnated as an Aeon

(Series)

Chapter five: Discovery Channel (In which you find out you have fans)

Warnings: Idk sort of Hi3 lore spoilers? Void Archives is his own warning

Why the hell did you even bother to think you could fix the absolute red flag that’s the divine key sitting on the chair next to your bed?

The more the Kirschtaria look alike spoke, the more you were convinced he should have been booted off the train. Too bad you couldn’t let your intrusive thoughts win in the meantime— Welt doesn’t know just how worse this guy could get, shared goal be damned.

“Okay so uhh, you were with Welt to fight a bunch of people in the sky right?” You said, trying to go along with whatever the fuck he was saying— it wasn’t like you didn’t know what they were doing beforehand, but it was easier to pretend you didn’t know shit.

“Yes, and we were in luck because Himeko had saved us.” He said, smiling. For a moment you would have been utterly bamboozled but you knew better.

You thanked your new brain that functioned as fast as a supercomputer, because you knew everyone in this train would be dead meat if you were slow.

“I see… that’s good to know she managed to get to you in the nick of time then.” You told him with a light hearted laugh, you swore that the more he looked at you, the more suspicious he became. If you were going to kick this man off the train it would have to be a vote of majority, but since he wasn’t acting up just yet you were going to postpone that meeting.

He was still on your watchlist, though.

Void Archives opened a bottle of expensive looking whiskey and poured it on a cup, and then another, and handed one to you.

“A toast.” He said, but you heard “An offering of friendship”. It was at least good to know he knew he shouldn’t fuck around with you.

You accepted the glass, drank it and grimaced.

“Not a fan I see.” He shook his head as if to mourn your lack of taste in the finer things in life. But what would he know? He’s a cube.

“I don’t like it, but I can drink it.” The taste of the whiskey burned in your throat. “Tastes a little funny though.” You murmured, Void Archives didn’t react much to your statement and continued to drink til he emptied the bottle.

It took him an hour, but at least the empty bottle signified he overstayed his welcome in your room.

“Let us meet again tomorrow morning, I want to speak with you soon.” He told you before he left.

Good grief, what a creep.

———————————

You never did end up speaking to him, instead heading towards Welt Yang, who you want to vaguely warn.

“I know you knew Void longer than you know me,” you began, but you already know Welt was more likely to believe you than the cube. “But keep an eye on him, he gives me a bad feeling.” Plant the seed of doubt, slowly but surely, so that the damage to the express can be minimized.

“I’ll.. keep that in mind.” Welt inhaled, stiffly nodding at your words as you patted him on the back.

“Great! Also, if things come down to it, you have my say in kicking him off this train.” You grinned, waving before disintegrating into particles as you returned to your original body.

Famous last words to be spoken.

Because five years later, on a Christmas Eve of all occasions, shit happened. And Void Archives was booted off the train like the red Amogus on a community vote.

Was it chaotic? Yes. Was it like a court hearing than an actual community vote? Also yes.

You had plenty of evidence presented, including the first instance you invited him to your room— because what do you know, the whiskey he gave you was drugged.

He did plenty of horrible shit, and even Himeko, poor patient Himeko, had enough.

You felt a little bad for Welt though having to deal with the aftermath, needless to say, everyone, except you, needed therapy on that train.

On the upside, someone better did replace the blonde and that was Dan Heng who joined you a few weeks before Void Archives was booted off the express.

“Well,” you blinked. “That was something.” You said out loud as Dan Heng shook his head. “Sorry you had to meet that guy.”

Dan Heng brushed it off, instead focusing on staring at the Christmas dinner that Pompom prepared for everyone and poked the turkey on his plate with a fork, before properly digging in.

It wasn’t exactly an ideal way to start your holidays and welcoming someone in the crew properly in a celebration, but you supposed it’d have to do.

It was at least one less toxic bitch off the train.

——————

You didn’t expect you’d deal with your own information being displayed in the databank though. Dan Heng wasn’t creepy about it at least, not that he knew you were an Aeon— specifically, the Aeon that ate Akivili (you still feel bad about that).

“Libertas, huh.” You let out a snort as you read your own little book. In there, it was written on how you were discovered, and what you stood for, along with a group that eventually became your followers.

You hummed, thinking it was rather endearing to see the Avgin there as some of your believers. It was interesting on how you got a following, no matter how small, in the few decades you existed in this world.

It wasn’t just the Avgin, there were others who you did not know too who believed in you, and others who you did see when you had peered into planets to see what people were up to.

It was sweet in a way, for them to cling to you for belief as they sought true happiness in the way of freeing themselves and others.

You wanted to keep it that way.

You read into the pages more, finding out what kind of worship people dedicated to your path; there was a statue of you in one city in some planet hundreds of light years away, in another planet there was you in a tapestry, in another you had a statue and a painting inside of a massive church akin to the ones you saw in photos of Rome.

It was a little overwhelming, and you felt a little shy at the recent discovery of all of this.

You closed the book and put it back on its shelf, exiting Dan Heng’s room to ask Pompom for tea after helping them with their chores.

—————————

Unbeknownst to you, Dan Heng knew you were an Aeon— and an Aeon he believed in in some way when he had heard of you in the whispers of the guards in the recent years he’s stayed in the Shackling Prison. It wasn’t exactly difficult to piece things together with the context clues around the place, not to mention, Himeko did end up telling him.

You wouldn’t be angry about it, she said to him. You were apparently rather human-like, and kind.

Himeko wasn’t wrong, and Dan Heng was going to trust that judgement. Is he wary? Yes, you’re an Aeon after all, you were plenty big of a deal.

But Pompom didn’t seem to be scared of you, and Welt spoke to you with a sense of respect. You regarded everyone in this train with a certain familiarity— Dan Heng did feel like you were a bit strange due to the feeling of “uncanny valley” you gave him, but you were kind to him and you were welcoming.

He was welcome in this place, he had a place to stay, and a purpose, as meager as it was.

Dan Heng thinks things would be alright from now on.

————————

Part I, Part II, Part III, Part IV, Part V, Part VI (HERE), Part VII, Part VIII

Yeeeee this took a bit!!! Thanks for the wait yall, I know it’s calm rn, but it’ll get rowdy again at some point I promise.

[lvis44]

Sweet Escape - The Wedding Pt.1 // LH44

Lewis Hamilton x Y/N

Warnings: Language, Alcohol Consumption, its really just a whole lot of fluff

Word Count: 1.7k+

Summary: Paradise is supposed to be fun and relaxing... a Sweet Escape, but when unspoken feelings and jealousy rise to the surface, everything can be turned upside down in the blink of an eye.

Notes: The beginning of the long awaited wedding! I have decided I will be releasing this in chunks, I cannot guarantee when each one will be coming but it will all be in the universe soon enough. I love you all and appreciate those of you have been kind and patient, I'm still here y'all I promise. Once again I cannot follow the same tense while writing and this has not been fully edited.

I am not a professional writer and all of this is a work of fiction and is strictly for fun. Enjoy! xxx

Previous Sections: Prologue - Part One - Part Two - Part Three - Part Four - Part Five - Part Six - Part Seven - Part Eight - Epilogue

What if I come and stay until 11:55?” His voice is whiny and desperate, making you laugh.

“Lewis, you have to go before Charlotte and Miles come and drag you.” You tell your pouting fiancé, still laughing at him.

You’re standing outside the fancy restaurant rented for your rehearsal dinner, snow falling around you as people start to clear out. Lewis had been attached to your hip for the last few days, his adoration for you only growing as you two approached your wedding day, The day that you had perfectly planned together.

“Wanna sleep next to you though.” Lewis says quietly, a cheeky smirk on his face as he pulls you against him, his hand traveling down to your bum.

“Lew! My parents are right there.” You whisper shout, grabbing his forearm to move it up to your lower back.

He just laughed, shaking his head before pressing himself against you even firmer, “Seriously, can we stay together just a little while longer? Promise I’ll leave before midnight.”

You could tell his intentions weren’t to sleep and you knew you would be hard pressed to kick him out later in the evening. You’re not a particularly traditional person but you were holding to sleeping apart the night before the wedding, much to his dismay. His mother had been the one to bring it up during wedding planning and while Lewis thought it was a horrible concept you were more than happy to go along, it made her happy and it made everything feel even more real. Two suites had been rented for the night at different hotels, mostly to keep Lewis from sneaking into your bed in the middle of the night.

“Bruv, if you don’t let go of her and come get in the damn car, I will remove you myself.” Miles’ voice boomed from behind you, saving you from having to turn your fiancé down yet again.

You couldn’t help but laugh, knowing Miles and Charlotte were tightly wound, the stress getting to them both as if it was their own wedding. You could see that Lewis was finally accepting defeat, rolling his eyes but nodding to Miles, motioning that he would be there in a second.

“It’s fucking crazy that the next time I see you will be at the altar.” Lewis whispers, looking giddy yet anxious.

“Gonna be Mrs. Hamilton tomorrow!” Your voice was quiet as you tried to hold back your squeal of excitement.

You were beyond elated to be marrying your best friend. When he proposed he had made it very clear that you could be engaged as long as you wanted, that nothing needed to be rushed. Only two years later you were here, ready to marry the love of your life in less than twenty four hours.

“Son, I think Miles is going to explode if we don’t all get going.” You hear Anthony laugh from nearby, evidently amused by the frantic state that Miles was in.

“Okay, okay.” Lewis just laughs, glancing at Miles who was now pacing outside of the black town car.

“I love you, get some sleep, need you in tip top shape tomorrow.” You say to Lewis, leaning up to place a family friendly kiss to his lips as you pat his chest

“Yes ma’am, I love you too.” Lewis mumbles against your lips.

Lewis stares at you for a moment, love pouring out of his dark brown eyes before squeezing your waist once more and walking off toward Miles who looks about ready to shove Lewis into the trunk if it means they’ll leave any quicker. Having said your goodbyes to everyone earlier, you make your way over toward Charlotte where she’s waiting by your own matching town car.

“You look much calmer than Miles was.” You laugh as she makes a ridiculous display of opening the door for you.

“Well thankfully I’m in charge of the much easier spouse,” She giggles, following you into the car, “I knew you’d stick to your guns and send him on his way. Miles on the other hand has about ten different plans of ways to just about lock Lewis in his room, pretty sure a straight jacket is on the table.”

You can’t help but laugh, knowing Lewis will more than likely continue to complain throughout the night. You would be lying if you said you truly didn’t want to be next to him for the night, you always sleep better in his arms, but you know one night away from each other won’t kill either of you, you’ve done it countless times before. It’s been rather adorable to you how clingy Lewis had gotten over the past few weeks, it was rather unlike him but you weren’t going to fight it. You know it’s something he does sometimes when he needs to ground himself, and right now his emotions are at an all time high. There had been a few snafus with decorations and such in the weeks leading up to now, each one seemed to wind him that much tighter, the perfectionist in him struggling.

When you arrived in the suite you were exhausted and ready for your pajamas but knew there was no way you were ready to go to sleep just yet. Your mom was waiting for you in the suite when you arrived, already opening a bottle of wine and urging you and Charlotte to come sit with her, a much needed moment of decompression. You’ve been busy all day; last minute preparations, the wedding rehearsal, the rehearsal dinner with all of both of your families. You were drained yet still so full of adrenaline. Being around Lewis all day had helped immensely, always so in tune with each others moods and needs, more than once he had rescued you from a conversation that felt like it had just gone on too long. It also helped that he was bubbling with excitement and energy, even after so long you frequently questioned where he got it, the level rarely faltering.

It wasn’t long before Charlotte was excusing herself to go get ready for bed, leaving you alone with your mom.

“This is all still so crazy to me.” Your moms voice is quiet and kind.

“Which part?” You laugh, taking a sip of your wine.

“All of it!” You mom says, gesturing into the air, “The fact that my baby is getting married, that her wedding is in a castle, that she’s marrying a man that we watched and admired racing for years, the fact that he’s the love of her life, just all of it.”

You couldn’t help but smile at your moms little rant, because it was true, so much of it felt surreal but everything was perfect.

“I wouldn’t trade any of it for the world.” You tell her softly, sincerely, taking a moment to think back on everything that has happened over the last three years.

Growing up, Sundays were reserved for F1, you and your mom massive Hamilton fans from the very beginning of his career. When you had told her that you had met him she freaked out nearly as much as you originally had, fangirling in a way you had never thought possible. Your dad thought it was impressive too, making a comment about you never leaving the city to come home and visit them now that you were hanging out with celebrities. When you told your parents that you were dating, your mom was incredibly happy for you but never let her admiration of Lewis get in the way of her daughter's well being, she made sure to check in with you frequently, always worried that his distance and status may be taking a toll on you. Your father on the other hand was less than pleased when he first learned about your relationship, preconceived notions about Lewis’ personal life and persona taking over, less than pleased with the age difference between the two of you. It took a while, but Lewis was able to win him over and you’ve never been more grateful for anything, you were desperate for all the people you loved to get along.

Now you had a fiancé who spoke with your father without you needing to be around, a mother who had befriended Lewis’ mother and stepmother and adored him, and were mere hours away from becoming his wife. Life truly does come at you fast.

“You’re ready?” Your mom asked, breaking the silence that had settled in the room.

“I truly don’t think I’ve ever been so ready for something. I’m nervous of course but there’s no one else that I would rather be with for the rest of my life. I’m sure of that.” Your voice was confident as you spoke, meaning every word.

“I’m so glad you found someone so good for you hun, he truly is a dream. Hell, I wish I had met someone like him when I was your age,” Your mom laughed, sending you a wink, “don’t tell your dad I said that.”

“Secrets safe with me,” You giggled back, “but I don’t think there’s another one of him.”

“Not that I’ve ever seen.” Your mom shrugged, the soft smile never leaving her face.

You can’t help but giggle at the conversation you're having with your mother. You’ve never been one to be sappy but the emotions boiling inside of you leading up to your big day are sending you over the edge, truly letting all the cliche thoughts you have about Lewis come to the forefront.

“You, my dear, need to get to bed. You have a long day ahead of you and need to be well rested for your night.” Your mom winked making you groan through a laugh.

“Mom!” You buried your head in your hands.

You and your mom have always been open with each other about every aspect of your life but you didn’t need to hear her joke about you consummating your marriage.

“But truly, you should try to get some sleep.” She laughed at your embarrassment, trying and failing to come off seriously.

“You’re right, I’ll try.” You say, rolling your eyes as you finish off the last of the wine in your glass

[radioactiveparker]

The Breakfast Club - Eddie Munson X F!Cheerleader!Reader

Part Three - Hallway Vision

Chapter Summary - During an adventure through the maze of school hallways, we see the Criminal become the hero, and the King become the villain. (A retelling of The Breakfast Club, written and directed by John Hughes.)

Chapter Warnings - Characters are all 18+ / Strong Language / Illusions to Emotional Abuse/ Abusive Relationship / Vandalism / Strong Sexual References / Drug References / Angst

Word Count - 5k

(Series Masterlist) (Masterlist)

(Part One) (Part Two) (Part Three) (Part Four) (Part Five)

~~~~~

Saturday.

October 25th, 1986.

Hawkins High Library.

1:00pm

~~~~~

"Let's take off. Dick's gone cruising." Eddie poked his head back into the library.

"Is that a euphemism?"

"No, Buckley. It means Higgins has just left his office."

You looked at the others as if this was an easy yes; you wanted to leave this library. Steve and Nancy didn't look too fond of the idea. Robin was torn between not wanting to leave, and not wanting to be the only one left behind. 

"How do you know where he went?" Nancy asked, as if his answer would determine hers.

"I don't. But he's gone. He wouldn't've come to check on us first if he wasn't going somewhere for a while. Jesus, I've never seen so much chicken shit in one place in my life."

She didn't find that answer very reassuring, but if Nancy was anything, it certainly wasn't chicken shit.

Robin looks at her, then back at Eddie. "I'll go out in the hall for a minute, but I don't wanna leave." As if that was proof enough that she wasn't chicken shit.

You really wanted to get out of that library. It had felt a lot bigger when you had first got there, but now, five hours later, it was starting to get suffocating. You didn't want to see another book for the rest of your life. 

"Do you mean take off for good?" You asked hopefully.

Eddie shook his head. "For good? No, just down to my locker."

"Okay." You agreed simply, taking your place beside him.

He smiled at you. "Being bad feels pretty god, huh?" 

You rolled your eyes at him and gave him a playful shove. The others looked like they were starting to consider it. Eddie's locker wasn't that far away. They would be gone for five minutes tops. If things went well, that was.

"What's the point of going to a locker?" Steve questioned.

"Why don't we just stand in the hall for a minute? That'd be fun, huh? If we get away with it." Robin attempted to persuade.

You and Eddie ignored them, taking the chance to slip out the door. The longer you all spent debating it, the less time you would have to get back.

Steve, Robin, and Nancy looked at each other.

"I'm not chicken." Nancy disclosed boldly, shifting on her feet and crossing her arms.

"I am." Robin gulped. At least she was honest.

"You two gonna stay?" Nancy flicked her eyes between the two of them.

"Not if you don't." Steve leaned against the door frame, like his answer showed her some sort of compassion, that he was thinking of her. 

"What do I have to do with making up your mind?"

Steve gulped. Not the reaction he was hoping. He cleared his throat and accepted defeat. "I don't know. I guess if you're not scared, I shouldn't be... not that I am. I'm not scared. Not of Principal Higgins."

Nancy stared at him like she didn't believe him, then left before he could dig the hole any deeper for himself. Steve was crushed as he watched Nancy walk away. He felt like he had just blown a chance at impressing Nancy. His shoulders slumped, and Robin patted him on the back.

"Maybe you should think for yourself for once. It's healthy." 

She hadn't said it in a bad way, but it had still injured his dignity. He brushed her hand off him and left without a word. Robin turned to the empty library. She debated sitting back down, but she had visions of Higgins storming through the doors and hounding her with questions. At least if she got caught in the halls, she'd have the others with her. She quickly followed after Steve.

Nancy and Steve caught up with you and Eddie, with Robin running behind, trying to catch up. You all hurried up the steps as quietly as possible. You made it to the teacher's lounge and paused, hearing noise coming from inside.

"For cryin' out loud!" Principal Higgins hit the vending machine. His soda can was stuck inside. 

You and Eddie ran across the open doorway while he was distracted. You tried not to think about the way Eddie had grabbed your hand to pull you along. Higgins rattled the coin return and started banging on the buttons. Steve and Nancy went next, taking a big lunge across and landing on their feet silently. Higgins let out a defeated sigh and started rummaging his pockets for more change. Finally, Robin made it across, just in time before the Principal turned around after having no luck. Eddie turned to make sure that everyone had made it across. He hadn't realised that he was still holding your hand until you wiggled it out of his grip. Your face flushed, and you awkwardly wiped your hand on your skirt, suddenly feeling the perspiration on your palm. You took a step away from each other at the same time. Eddie cleared his throat, and the others eyed him, wondering why his demeanour had suddenly changed.

They all turned when they saw his eyes staring behind them, paralysed in panic. Principal Higgins had walked out of the teacher's lounge. 

Everyone froze.

The Principal paused, looked down at his watch, turned the other way, and walked down the hall. Everyone released a breath when he was out of sight. Eddie led you down another hall until you reached his locker.

His locker was so ugly it hurt your eyes. The white paint on his locker was non-existent. It was a horrific amalgamation of stickers from bands you've never heard of, spray paint graffiti, and lettering scratched into the metal with handwriting so bad you couldn't even read it. When he opened it, the inside wasn't much better. The stickers and writing wrapped around the inside of the locker door. It was a stunning mess of clothes, bags, papers, books, cassette tapes, and auto parts. You'd hate to see what his bedroom looked like. 

Not that you were thinking of being in his bedroom.

Eddie started fishing through his locker. Nancy was revolted by it. 

"You're such a slob. Your maid take the week off or something?"

"This is on purpose, Princess. Don't worry." Nobody believed him. "It discourages nosey people from going in it. Like cops."

Eddie smiled when he located what he was looking for. He pulled out a greasy, stained shopping bag. Out of the shopping bag, he took a smaller brown paper bag, and out of that, an even smaller paper bag. Then, with great drama and a huge, proud smile, he reached his hand into the final bag.

"You ready for this action?"

He slowly took out a baggie bulging with marijuana. Your mouth hung open in shock. Nancy looked at it like it was infectious.

"No way, man. Put it back." Steve insisted, making a reach for it.

Eddie stuffed the baggie down the from of his pants with a smirk. Steve pulled a disgusted face; there was no way he was going to take it from him now. 

"Let's go."

You all turned and quietly crept back down the hall. You were about to turn the corner when Eddie stopped you. Professor Higgins was standing outside of the teacher's lounge again, holding two cans of Coca Cola after finding some spare change in his office draw. He was only five yards away. You all scooted backwards to hide behind the corner. You bravely peeked a head around. Higgins turned and made his way down the hall. He was on his way back to the library. You told the others.

"We're screwed!" Robin cried

"You asshole!" Steve seethed. "I knew this was a lost idea!"

Nancy shook her head in disbelief. "We're finished. This is just great." 

You had a bit more optimism than that. You turned to Eddie. He got himself out of shit all the time. What's one more? You had faith in him, and he had felt it in how you spoke your words. "What're we gonna do?"

Eddie thought hard. Higgins' leisurely footsteps echoed down the hall, each one diminishing your chances of getting back to the library undetected. 

"We'll go around, cut through the lab, and double back. C'mon."

Eddie urged everyone to start running. You all swerved around corners and scrambled downstairs, sacrificing volume for speed. You narrowly escaped Higgins' sight when you turned and corner and seen he was walking head on towards you all. He was too busy sipping on his Cola to notice the group of students at the end of the hall. At least he had decided to take the scenic route back to the library. He was unintentionally buying you all some time. You all ran in the opposite direction again.

"Cut through the cafeteria." Eddie directed, starting to run down the hall to the right.

"The gym will be faster." Steve countered.

"What? No, you don't know what you're talking about."

"No, you don't know what you're talking about. I'm through listening to you. You'll just end up getting us into more trouble. We're going this way." Steve had managed to persuade the others into following him. 

Eddie hardly spent time in school, and he certainly never used the gym. He couldn't remember if it was quicker or not. He didn't like not being in control. He felt like he was running off a cliff head first with a blindfold on. He watched as the others followed Steve down the hall to the left. It was just you and him left. You stared at him fearfully, listening to Principal Higgins' footsteps grow closer. You started backwards slowly, encouraging Eddie to follow. He did with a scoff of annoyance. The two of you quickly caught up with the others, falling behind while Steve led the way. After a couple of twists and turns and another almost run in with the Principal, you reached the gym doors. Steve pulled on the handles.

They were locked.

Sheer panic set in.

"Great idea, shitbag." Eddie spat at Steve.

"Fuck you." He tried the doors again to double check that they were locked. 

They were. He kicked them bitterly.

"Fuck you, why didn't you listen to Eddie?" You defended. 

You crashed back on some lockers and folded your arms in frustration.

"We're dead." Robin whimpered.

Eddie looked at you. You had probably given him more credit that what he was worth before when you had asked him for help, but now, as you stared back, he wanted to prove himself to you. You seeing the clogs working in his brain and the change in his eyes.

He didn't take his eyes off you. "No, just me." He said heroically.

"What do you mean?" Steve's voice finally drew his eyes away from you.

"I'm gonna take the rap." He pulls his baggie of marijuana out and shoves it down Steve's pants. "Keep your unit out of it."

The girls giggled. Steve was horrified that a group of girls were laughing about his genitals.

"I mean, what if the bag broke and the dope seeped into his thing and it got high?" Robin laughed.

"Can you imagine this airhead running around with his little weenie stoned?" You cracked up.

"Little?" Steve looked wounded. "It's not that funny." 

The girls just cracked up more. Eddie smirked.

"I don't want this, Eddie!" Steve begged.

"C'mon King Steve, I'm gonna save your buns! It's your fault we're in this mess, the least you could do is hold on to that until Dick leaves." 

The girls were still laughing. You meet Eddie's eye and he starts laughing too.

Steve turned back to the group of girls snickering behind him. "Excuse me, but I don't want to do this. Eddie's making me, so I'd appreciate it if you guys would stop with the jokes. Okay?"

Eddie turned and started running back down the hall. "Just get back to the library!"

There was a pause as the girls calmed down. No use in trying to be sneaky when you can't stop laughing. 

"Eddie, wait." He paused, eyebrows raised in interest at your voice. "Be careful."

Eddie beamed and shot you a wink before sprinting down the hall.

"That stuff couldn't really happen, right?" Steve's voice quivered with concern for his unit.

With a roll of your eyes, you urged the group to start towards the library. You lead the way, taking Eddie's route through the cafeteria. As you ran through the halls, you could hear his loud singing, but he was too distant for you to understand any of the words. If you could hear him from all the way over here, Principal Higgins would most definitely already be on his way to catch him. 

You managed to get them all back to the library safely. Everyone was huffing for breath, and Steve kept adjusting his pants. Everyone took their seats, except for Nancy, who was peering out of the doors to keep an eye out for Higgins or Eddie. 

Nancy gasped. "Higgins' got him! He's gonna get reamed."

Steve recoiled at the name. "I do not want these drugs in my underwear anymore."

"Shhh!"

Nancy rushed from the door to her desk. No sooner was she seated than the door opened up, and Principal Higgins shoved Eddie in. He was red-faced from running around, and he had managed to tie his hair back into a low bun that you thought suited him. His red paid shirt was half hanging off, and he was carrying one shoe in his hand, but he still had a big shit-eating grin on his face. You wondered what on earth had happened. He made his way towards his seat next to you, hopping on one leg as he tried to walk and put his shoe back on at the same time. 

Higgins crossed his arms impatiently. "Mr. Munson has taken it upon himself to visit the gymnasium. So, I'm sorry to inform you that you'll be losing his company for the remainder of the day." 

Eddie chuckled to himself as he sat back in his seat next to you.

"Everything's a joke, huh, Munson? The false alarm you pulled on Friday? Are false fire alarms real funny? What if your home was on fire and the fire department was over here answering a false alarm?"

"I'm not that lucky, Sir."

Everyone suppressed the urge to laugh at Eddie's wisecrack. 

"Fine, what if it was your dope on fire?"

"That's impossible, Sir. It's in Harrington's underwear."

Everyone cracks up again. Steve turned red, adjusting himself in his jeans not-so subtly.

The Principal turned his attention on everyone else. "You like this? You think Munson's funny? Do you think he's cute?"

He got no reaction from anyone. Eddie glared at Higgins as he made his little speech, trying to hide his embarrassment at the fact that the Principal had managed to one-up him. 

"I bet Y/N thinks I'm cute." He mumbled under his breath. Eddie had spoken your actual name for the first time. It sounded like honey running off his lips. Your eyes widened, but you pretended not to hear. 

Higgins continued. "Go visit Big Eddie Munson in five years and see how goddamn funny he is." He smiled and leaned in close to Eddie. "You look like you're gonna cry, Munson."

Eddie was struggling to keep himself from striking Principal Higgins across his smug fucking face. How dare he humiliate him in front of everyone. How dare he humiliate him in front of you.

"You're not tough, Munson. You're pathetic." He reached out and grabbed Eddie by the front. "Let's go."

Eddie smacked his hand away. "Get your fucking hands off me! I'd expect better manners from you, Dick."

Eddie shuffled around the table, planting a big kiss on your cheek as he left. You almost gasped in surprise. As he walked away, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a pair of sunglasses. Why he was carrying sunglasses in October, you had no idea. You had learned it was probably better not to question him. He lay them on the desk in front of Steve. 

"For better hallway vision." He sniped.

Principal Higgins walked out, holding the door open for Eddie as he shuffled languidly behind him. He turned his head and looked at the others. 

He held up a peace sign in farewell. "It's been a slice, ladies."

The door closed behind them.

The room was silent once more. 

You reached a hand to your cheek where Eddie had kissed you. The skin was tingling under your touch. You couldn't help but smile at the memory of his surprisingly soft lips. Billy flashed through your mind again. Your heart dropped into your gut. How could you have let Eddie have that effect on you when Billy was waiting for you at home? The thought had your body tingling again. But not the good kind. 

Everyone awkwardly glanced at each other. You realised now that somehow Eddie had been the glue that was holding you all together. You had all bonded over your inadequacy to tolerate Eddie that, now he wasn't here, you had absolutely nothing in common.  You were unable to prevent the disappointment swarming in your chest.

"Principal Higgins is a total meat head." You broke the silence and everyone turned to you.

They all had the same sort of sorrow in their eyes. The girls agreed with you, but Steve shook his head like he didn't have any regrets.

"The freak asked for it."

The insult upset you more than it probably would have upset Eddie. "Hey! It isn't fair that Eddie gets treated like that. We all left. He saved our asses."

"Oh, get a life, Y/N."

You thought Steve was starting to come around to you after your talk on the way to the teachers lounge. You guessed not. "He sacrificed himself so we could get back here. I didn't see you volunteering."

You had wounded Steve's dignity. "I didn't want to leave in the first place. He got us into it, it's only right that he take the shit for getting us out of it." He bit back.

"You weren't forced to go!"

"Munson is a troublemaker."

"Yeah? So what does that make you?"

"Meaning what?"

"Wimp."

CCRRAASSHH!!!

Everyone turned in the direction of one of the seclusion rooms. There is a gaping hole in the ceiling where the tiles had crashed through, and Eddie splayed, stunned, on his back on the table. After catching his breath, he sat up and shook the dry plaster out of his hair. He sauntered out into the main library like nothing had happened.

"Miss me?"

"How did you do that?" You bewildered.

"Smoke and mirrors." He winked, taking his rightful seat beside you.

"Goddammit!" Footsteps came hurtling towards the library doors.

"Shit!" Eddie ducked underneath the table. 

His tall, lanky body hardly fit underneath. He shuffled upwards until his upper half was tucked between your legs. You cringed, trying so desperately to close your legs so Eddie didn't look straight up your skirt, but your legs were trapped on either side of his shoulders. 

Principal Higgins stood at the door, red-faced and puffing. "What was that ruckus?" 

"What ruckus?" You played dumb, jumping in before Steve could open his mouth and rat on Eddie. 

Higgins eyed them all up. You all sat like little angles, up straight and arms folded innocently in front of you.

"Could you describe it, Sir?" Robin asked.

"Watch your tongue, Missy."

Eddie shifted in discomfort, adjusting himself so his back didn't ache as much. He eyed your white keds. Only a slight discolouration in the laces and few specs of mud from when you had crossed the school field, but otherwise clean. He moved back slightly so he didn't get any dirt on himself. He followed his eyes up your white socks, tracing the green trim at the top of your knee. He was glad to be under the table when he flushed at the sight of your bare skin. The soft flesh of your thighs enticing him to follow higher.

There was a sudden knock from under the table from Eddie accidentally banging his head. You jolted in surprise, hitting your hands on the table to disguise the sound. The others copied, tapping their own little beats.

"What was that noise?"

"What noise?"

Eddie hoped that the sight he saw would never leave his mind. It was enough to send anyone into a cardiac arrest. His mouth hung open as he ogled straight up your skirt. You hadn't worn your spandex briefs since you weren't actually doing any cheerleading, and instead had opted for a pair of baby blue cotton panties. Eddie's mouth was watering at the excruciatingly tender bulge. In his entire life, Eddie would not be able to duplicate the raw power of this moment. Eddie's eyes were locked in a stare, hand trembling and eager to touch.

"Really, Sir, there wasn't any noise, just ---"

You shot up straight with a gasp, hands reaching underneath the table and into Eddie's hair. You could feel it tickling the skin of your thigh as his head moved further between your legs. The others looked at you with alarm. You pulled gently on his hair to urge him to stop, but couldn't find yourself putting in any effort to resist him. Your hand stayed weaved into his curled as he continued to delve in deeper. Your legs had started trembling when you felt his lips graze your inner thighs before placing a soft kiss there. Your mouth hung open in shock before you came to your senses. You quickly covered your gasp with a cough.

The others joined in and you couldn't be more grateful. The four of you sat in a coughing fit with Higgins eyeing you all suspiciously.

"What that the noise? The noise I just made. Was that it?" You thought fast.

Eddie's nose prodded at your mound. You suppressed another gasp and slammed your thighs closed around his head to stop him from moving any further. Eddie snapped out of his trance at the sudden pain on either side of his head. He slapped your leg to tap out, and you relaxed your thighs. He moved away from you, rubbing his ringing ears. When you felt him leave, you gave him a deserved kick to the arm. He hissed in pain, but Higgins hadn't heard it.

The Principal scowled. "I didn't catch you this time, but you can bet I will." He pointed a finger at you. "You!"

You tensed.

"I will not be made a fool of."

And with those final words, he stormed from the library.

Everybody held their angelic expressions for a couple beats and then, assured that Higgins was out of earshot, Steve, Nancy, and Robin break into laughter. You shoved your seat back and kicked your legs at Eddie as he scrambled out from under the front of the table. 

"You're such an asshole." 

Eddie tried to keep as serious as he could, but struggled to contain his laughter at your anger. "What?" He asked innocently.

"You know what."

"It was dark under there, it was an accident."

The others seemed to take interest in your spat. They wondered what had Eddie laughing and felt inclined to join in.

"What?" Steve asked.

"None of your business." You slumped back into your chair and crossed your arms, angry and embarrassed.

Eddie saw your wet eyes and soft pouting lips. He started to feel bad. He hadn't meant to upset you.

"I couldn't help it, okay? I'm sorry." 

You refused to look at him. He placed a gentle hand under your chin and guided your eyes to meet. His voice was much softer. "I'm sorry."

You hadn't said it out loud, but Eddie could see the forgiveness in your eyes. You relaxed under his touch, feeling the truth in his words. He smiled tenderly.

"What did you do?" Steve asked again, still hoping for a laugh. 

Eddie had clearly embarrassed you somehow. Steve thought it was only fair to get a few jokes out on you after you and the other girls had made fun at him in the hallway.

"Shut up." Eddie snapped, and the moment was over. 

He held out a hand to Steve who just looked at it in confusion. He reached like he was going to shake Eddie's hand but he slapped it away just before they clasped hands. Eddie looked at him like he was as thick as pig shit. 

"You smoke all my reefer or something? The dope, waistoid. Give it to me."

Steve's eyes lit up at the disclosure, wondering how he had managed to forget. He reached into his pants and tossed the baggie to Eddie, murmuring a 'good riddance' to it under his breath. Eddie sat back next to you and opened the bag on the table. You stared at it in curiosity.

You had never smoked weed before. You had never smoked period. But Billy did. He always tried to force you to smoke it with him, but you refused. It wasn't that you hadn't wanted to do it, it was because Billy wanted you to. It was kind of like when your parents ask you to do something and it immediately puts you off wanting to do it. He'd call you a killjoy, or Miss Priss, which always got under your skin. But what made it worse was that Billy always got horny when he was high. He struggled to contain himself around you, even when you told him no. Luckily, he had never done anything, but you knew it was only a matter of time before he would. 

You knew Eddie wouldn't be like that though. You had never seen him stoned, but there was something about him that told you smoking with Eddie would be okay. He wouldn't pressure you into trying it if you didn't want to, and if you did, that was okay too. Eddie sold weed to people all the time, heavy hitters and noobs alike. He had taught plenty of people how to smoke before. You could try it for yourself, without Billy's untoward provocation. 

He patted his pockets then looks troubled. "Do you have any papers." He asked no one in particular. 

Then with a shake of his head, he answered his own question. "Why would you dinks have papers?"

"You're not smoking in here." Nancy looked fearful.

"Yeah? Watch me."

"If you want to smoke, go back to where you were before. Before you fell through the fucking ceiling." Steve ordered on Nancy's behalf.

Eddie reached over and pretended to click a switch to turn Steve off.

"What can I use for papers?"

"A book?" You suggested.

"What about the smell?" Nancy quizzed.

Eddie regarded her off-handedly. "Take your shoes off, that'll mask the smell."

Nancy's mouth hung open in offence, She knew her feet didn't smell so the insult hadn't wounded her pride too much. But it was still embarrassing none the less. Especially in front of Steve.

Eddie ignored her and turned to you. "Book pages are too thick."

"How about dictionary pages? That paper's real thin."

Eddie looked at you impressed, eyebrows raised and a slight twitch in the corner of his mouth. The look of pride made your stomach flip. You took a great deal of pleasure at his silent praise. He walked over to the dictionary stand. 

"You can't tear up a dictionary." Robin protested. "What if somebody needs a word and you smoked it?"

Eddie ignored her, opened a dictionary and ripped out a random page. He couldn't care less if he had caused someone a minor inconvenience. There was more than one dictionary in the world.

He pointed at Nancy. "Hey Princess, watch that door. This is a police matter if we get caught."

Nancy tensed. She didn't like that idea very much. She swallowed hard. Eddie walked to the back of the library where the comfy chairs were and plonked himself down on one of the bean bags, making himself right at home.

You got up to follow. Steve looked at you completely pissed off at you for encouraging Eddie's behaviour.

"Loosen up." You scoffed.

"I'm not getting my paper written." Nancy sighed to herself.

"You know," you continued, "he's not all that bad. I'm kind of getting used to him."

"You're just bored."

"Why are you acting like this towards me, Steve?" You'd had enough of the way he was talking to you. "I thought we were fine after I apologised."

It was like when you were alone together you were fine, but in front of the others he hated your guts. You thought he had some nerve calling Eddie out at lunch for trying to keep up with his image. He was being such a hypocrite right now.

He scoffed. "It was hardly an apology."

"It was hardly an apology because I had nothing to be sorry for. I told you already what Billy did wasn't my fault."

"I know!" His voice softened. "I know."

Nancy gave him a gentle look, as if urging him to apologise. He sighed in defeat, tracing a finger along the split in his lip. Suddenly it didn't hurt as much anymore. Like holding this grudge over you was a constant reminder of the pain Billy had given him. He knew apologising was the right thing to do. He opened his mouth, but his time was up.

You shook your head in disappointment. You didn't know what you were expecting from him. Perhaps Steve wasn't as nice as you once thought. It was crazy how things had turned out. In the beginning, you thought for sure that this experience would have given you a chance to make amends with Steve, maybe even become friends of some sort. Turned out that you grew apart from Steve and found yourself feeling closer to Eddie. A notion you had never entertained in all your years at Hawkins High.

You walked away before Steve could say another word to you. 

~~~~~

<<<Previous // Next>>>

~~~~~

Taglist: @cruwushes @the-ch0sen-on3 @namelesshumanperson @ali-r3n @cadence73 @munsonssweets @ahoyyharrington @mewchiili @yourdailymemedelivery @httpsunflowers @b-irock @coolglittercornbae @sav12321 @cumslutforaemond @siriuslysmoking @learninglinesintherainn @peaches-roses-sins @lodeddiperrodrick @catherinnn @lilocapoca @minniedreamers @melaninjhs @chaosfrogsonfire @levylovegood @bowsforsienna @rcailleachcola

[blue-aconite]

it was just a kiss || j.h.s

Summary: A night at the Hard Deck takes a turn when Jake confides in Mickey about some personal matters.

Warnings: swearing, fluff, jake has feelings, no use of y/n (reader has a nickname), fanboy is the ultimate bestie, drunk rooster is a menace to society

Word Count: 2.4k

Pairings: Jake Seresin x reader

Authors Note: Based on this prompt by @creativepromptsforwriting. Thanks to @writercole @demxters & @seresinsweetie for looking this over for me!

“The girl with the bachelorette party has been eyeing you all evening.” Fanboy handed him another beer, perching onto the bar stool next to him. 

Hangman looked over to where the group of girls were seated, catching the eye of the brunette that had been trying to get his attention since they arrived. The girl gestured towards the doors but he shook his head, giving her an apologetic smile. 

“Dude, what are you doing? She’s hot.” Mickey slapped his arm, eyes wide as saucers. 

“I’m not interested.”

Fanboy looked concerned, swivelling around on his chair. “Alright, let me get this straight. For the past month, I’ve seen countless women approach you, yet you’ve turned them all down. What’s going on?”

Jake snorted into his beer. “Nothing. I’m just not interested.”

“Can we please just have a human conversation? I know that underneath all of those protein shakes and hair products is an actual human being called Jake, and not Hangman. So, stop trying to avoid the subject.” Mickey leaned back against the wall, knocking his knee into Jake’s. 

Jake stared at Fanboy for the longest time, not knowing what to say. He opened his mouth but no words came out, so he settled back against the wall as well, keeping his eyes on the floor.

The Daggers had been permanently stationed at Top Gun since the Uranium Mission, instructing and flying together. Jake tried his best to play nice, offering to drive most of them home from the bar at times and buying beers on their nights out. He had made an effort to try and interact more, trying to show interest in their lives but he didn’t think that the rest of the group, save Javy, had actually accepted him into their little makeshift family. He still felt like he wasn’t truly a part of the group, but Mickey’s concern told him that maybe he was wrong. 

Fanboy shifted slightly, putting his beer away. “Jake. You can talk to me.”

“I didn’t think, uh, I mean -”

Fanboy smiled, patting his arm reassuringly. “I know. I know you think we don’t care, but we do. If you don’t want to talk, that’s fine. But something is obviously bothering you. If you’re not comfortable with me, Javy might be a better option?” 

Jake didn’t know what to say. He waited for the punchline, where Fanboy would laugh and mock him but it never came. Mickey was being sincere. The WSO just waited patiently, fingers drumming on the wooden bar behind them. 

“You know, you remind me of my brother.” Mickey picked at his jeans, pulling at the loose strings over the knee. When Jake didn’t respond, he kept on talking. 

“His name is Diego. He’s the oldest. There’s five of us, by the way. He’s just like you. Walls up so high you can barely see past them. He always used to make fun of us when we were kids. I hated it. But when I got older, I realised that he was only doing it to push us. Mom and dad put a lot of responsibility on him and he did the best he could.” 

Jake listened as Mickey rambled on, the uncomfortable pit in his stomach lessening the longer Fanboy kept talking. 

“I know you’re doing the best you can as well. I know that you taunt Rooster with the sole purpose of making sure he pushes his own limits. I can tell. You push us all to be better.”

He swallowed thickly, trying to make out what had transpired in the last 20 minutes. “How? How can you tell?”

Mickey grinned widely. “Like I said, you remind me of Diego,” he grabbed the bottle again, “you’re one of us Jake, even if you don’t think so.”

Jake decided to throw caution to the wind and believe what Fanboy was telling him. If it was all true, then maybe he could talk to him. Maybe he could start being a part of the group. Before he could even open his mouth, Rooster appeared out of thin air and threw an arm around his shoulder.

“HANGMAN! The lady over there is asking about you!” Bradley leaned in closer, as if he was going to share a secret. “I think she wants to fuck you.”

Fanboy snorted loudly, startling Rooster. “Fanboy, didn’t see you there! What do you think, do you think she wants to fuck him?”

A bright red flush was covering Bradley’s cheeks and his eyes were slightly unfocused and glazed over. 

Mickey rolled his eyes. “Rooster, how much have you had to drink?” 

Bradley was leaning onto Jake now, his head on his shoulder. “You know, you smell good. And your hair is very soft.” Rooster patted Jake’s head, smiling stupidly at his teammate. 

“Okay buddy, I think we should get you home.” Bob appeared, slinging Rooster’s unoccupied arm around his shoulder, supporting most of his weight as he pulled him off of Jake. Bradley made a sound of protest as he was separated from Jake. 

“No, I was gonna help Hangman get laid. There’s a lady over there, and she’s got the hots for him.” He waved in the general direction of the bar. 

“He isn’t interested. So you can go home,” Fanboy laughed, pushing Bradley’s hand away as it aimed for his head. 

Bob tried to get him to move, but Bradley turned in his grasp, almost losing his balance. “You’re not? But I was gonna help.” He pouted, leaning back onto Bob who grunted under the extra added weight. 

Jake didn’t get the chance to answer as Bob hauled Rooster away with the help of Payback who had snuck up on them. Bradley complained the entire way, waving excitedly to Penny at the bar as his teammates practically carried him out of the door. 

“I guess that’s it. You two coming with us or what?” Nat sauntered by, Javy following closely. 

Jake was about to agree but Fanboy beat him to it. “In a minute. You go ahead.” 

They waved goodbye and Jake itched to follow his best friend. Now it was just him and Mickey. Even though he was about to spill his guts out right before Bradshaw interrupted them, Jake hesitated. 

“C’mon, let’s get some air.” Fanboy left his seat and Jake had no choice but to follow him out onto the deck. The sun was long gone, the pale moon taking its place. He could hear the waves crashing against the shore, people laughing further down the beach as they sat around a bonfire, sparkling brightly against the darkness.

“I could tell you were actually going to talk before Rooster interrupted us. Still want to?”

Jake hesitated for a moment before slumping back against the wooden rail. “Have you spoken much to the new team of mechanical engineers that arrived a couple of months ago? Like, Mercury for example,” he sighed as he nodded towards the window. Through it, across the bar, he could see Mercury sitting with her friends. 

Mickey stretched out his legs in front of him. “Sure. Mercury is badass. Her team is much better than Rogers and his idiots.” Their former mechanical team had been replaced by Mercury and her co-workers at the beginning of spring. Everyone preferred the new team. 

“Well, you see, uh. A couple of weeks ago, I ran into Mercury. And we’ve hung out a few times, outside of work. And I…” Jake trailed off, not knowing how to continue. 

Fanboy turned to him, eyes wide. “Are you telling me the reason you’ve been turning down all these women is because you’ve got a crush on Mercury?”

Jake’s heart hammered in his chest, gut twisting slowly. “It’s not that. Well, partly. I can’t stop thinking about her, no matter how much I try to occupy myself. I miss her when I don’t see her for a couple of days and I feel like, I don’t know, all giddy and shit when she smiles.”

“It sounds like more than a crush. So why the sad face man?” Fanboy nudged his side. 

“I kissed her. Well, she kissed me. We kissed. And after, she said ‘it was just a kiss’.” Jake deflated with disappointment, trying to hide just how much her response actually hurt him.

Mickey stayed quiet for a while before speaking. “Did you say you wanted something more?”

“I told her that I knew it was just a kiss but asked if it had to be just that.”

“What did she say?”

It hurt more than Jake liked to admit to revisiting what happened after their kiss. “She said that while she liked me, she knew of my reputation and had no intention of being another notch in my bedpost.” 

Fanboy clicked his tongue. “And that’s why you’ve stayed away from all the women. Trying to show her that you’re serious?”

Jake hadn’t anticipated for Mickey to see right through him. The emotional turmoil of opening up like this, to have someone listen and not mock, was jarring. Jake didn’t exactly have a lot of those people in his life. But Fanboy stayed, listening patiently as Jake talked. 

“Yes. Her words hurt but they’re true. I’m just trying to show her that I’m willing to change, for her. That I have changed.”

His companions' next words cut deeper than they should. “You’re in love with her. This isn’t just a crush.”

He hadn’t wanted to admit it to himself. Love wasn’t something Jake was familiar with. It scared him, to be vulnerable and open with someone. To let them see every part of him. But it was true. Over the course of a few short weeks, being in Mercury’s company had him breaking all his own rules as he realised that he did love her.

“Yes.”

“Then you should tell her. Tell her that you’ve changed, for her. Tell her that you love her.”

Jake sighed. “I can’t. She doesn’t feel the same, she made it very clear.”

Mickey slapped his arm, startling him. “Dude! Stop. You said that she said she liked you. If your past is the only thing stopping her, then you need to tell her,” he paused for a moment before lowering his voice, “and you deserve someone, Jake. You deserve love.”

He didn’t want to cry but Mickey’s words brought a wave of emotion upon him. He swiped at his face, trying to hide the tears. 

All of what Mickey was saying went against everything Jake had ever been told. His father always told him he was no good and that no one would ever want anything from him. That he would never amount to anything. Never achieve anything. 

“It’s okay man. I get it. You’re scared. But in the wise words of my abuela, ‘To love is to be scared. If you’re not scared, it’s not worth it’.” 

Jake laughed, a watery sound before wiping his face again. “She sounds like a smart woman.” Jake took a deep breath, trying to gather his thoughts. 

Mickey laughed as well, eyes sparkling. “She’s the best,” he looked past Jake, eyes trained on something outside Jake’s field of vision. “If you were to tell Mercury, what would you say to her?”

Jake took a moment to ponder, trying to put his feelings into words. He guessed it was too late to turn back now, Mickey had already seen parts of him he hadn’t shown anyone in years. 

“I guess I would tell her how she makes me feel. That her smile brightens my day and that I want to make her laugh. That she makes me push myself to be better, both for myself and her. I’d tell her that I love her, even if it scares me. That I’ve changed and that my past doesn’t matter. She’s the only one I want.”

Fanboy clapped his hands together, smiling widely. “Good.”

“What do you mean ‘good’?” Jake turned but Mickey wasn’t looking at him. His eyes were trained behind him, shit eating grin in place on his face. 

Jake turned his head, his eyes landing upon Mercury standing a few feet away, bottle dangling from her hand. He immediately choked up, hands growing clammy as he tried to find his voice. The look on her face told Jake she had heard everything. 

“I’m gonna head back inside,” Mickey pushed off the chair before murmuring, “Remember what I said. You deserve love,” to Jake. He then sauntered back into the bar, saluting sloppily as he walked past Mercury.

Jake held his breath, counting to twenty as she approached him, sitting down tentatively in Fanboy’s abandoned seat. Neither of them spoke at first. Jake’s heart was beating so hard against his ribs that he thought it would break free. His palms were sweaty and he wanted to bolt, rush back inside. 

“You love me?” She quietly asked, hands twisting in her lap. He desperately wanted to reach out and intertwine their hands but he wasn’t sure it would be welcomed. Mercury chose for him when she grew tired of waiting for an answer. 

She reached over, clasping one of his hands between her own. “Jake. Talk to me.”

Mercury was staring at him  with a gentle smile. Her face was open and inviting, making Jake feel braver. He could do this.

“Yes. I don’t know when it happened.” She laughed, squeezing his hand. “Does it matter when it happened?”

“I guess not.” 

Neither of them spoke after that but there seems to be no need. All Jake focused on was the feeling of his hand between hers, the way they both seemed to breathe at the same time. It’s peaceful. 

“I’m sorry that I said it was just a kiss,” Mercury murmured while tracing the veins on his hand. “I wanted to say it was more than that, but I didn’t want to get hurt.”

“Hurting you is the last thing I want. I want this. Us.” Jake squeezed her hand back, intertwining their fingers. He desperately wanted her to repeat his earlier words back to him but he didn’t want to push her either. He knew he loved Mercury. He could wait while she sorted her feelings out. 

After all, he hadn’t exactly planned on telling her nor even approaching her.

“Jake?”

He hummed contentedly, the feeling of her hand in his calming him down better than any trick his therapist had ever taught him. 

“If you want to, I’d like that kiss to be more than just a kiss. I want you. Truth is, I think I fell in love with you when we went hiking. I know that’s so long ago and I’m sorry for not telling you but -”

Jake cut her off, cupping her face and pressing their lips together, smiling into the kiss. She loved him. It was all he needed to know. They’d figure the rest out later. If Jake had it his way, they’d have the rest of their lives.

Taglist: @wildbornsiren​ @therebeccaw@imjess-themess@antiquitea@fuckyeahhangman@writercole@hederasgarden@yanna-banana@wkndwlff@bobfloydsbabe@hollandorks@anniesocsandgeneralstore@ereardon@luminousnotmatter@roosterscock@thedroneranger@fandomxpreferences@top-hhun@princessmisery666@bradshawsbitch​ @princessphilly@a-reader-and-a-writer@green-socks@angstybluejay@seresinhangmanjake@ayorooster​@notroosterbradshaw​ @indynerdgirl@gigisimsonmars@girl-in-the-chairs-void@bradshawbabes@unhinged-btch@horseshoegirl@sadpetalsstuff@bradshawbaby@ahopelessromanticwritersworld@ummjustfics​ @septemberrie​ @somenamewithepineapple​ @seresinsweetie​​ @crescentwolf​ @seresinhangmanjake​ @sylviebell​ @waklman​ @roosterforme​ @rosiahills22​ @dempy​ @i0veless​ @ilovewriting06​ @kmc1989​ @demxters @amortentiadrops @teacupsandtopgun @hangmanscoming

​

[luveline]

Could I request something from the kisses before dinner universe (if you’re taking requests that is!) just es to see the girls trying to do something nice for their parents. Or reader has the girls help her do something nice for Steve since he does so much for them (or vice versa bc mom does so much for them too)

thank you for your request! hope this is okay!! dad!steve x mom!reader, 4.5k

Avery pulls her hat over her ears and grits her teeth, eyes scrunching closed. All the new baby does is cry, cry, and cry. 

"She's loud," Bethie says.

"So loud," Avery say. 

Seconds after, Dove starts to cry, like a bomb being dropped, or a siren call. She wails and wails. The sounds are endless. Avery's hat won't block them out. She throws it across the room, agitated. 

"Stevie," Avery hears you say softly, super tired, "sorry, honey, you don't know where Dove's buppy is?" 

"No idea." 

Avery looks toward her socked feet at the end of the bed, where Dove's baby bottle lays dirty against the rumpled blankets. She grabs it quickly and slides out of bed, careful not to bash into Bethie where they'd been lying down together. Avery just got a brand new TV in her bedroom for her birthday, which means they can be 'lazy excuses for girls' if her dad is to be believed. Avery knows lazy is a bad word, but Steve says it like it's funny. She always laughs. 

"Mom," Avery says, running into Dove's room. 

"What, baby?" you ask absentmindedly, a crying Dove on your hip, hands yanking aside her blankets in search.

"I have her buppy." 

You turn, smiling, grateful and bubbly as you accept the bottle and ruffle her hair. "My life saver! Thank you. Did your movie finish? I'll come and change the tape."

"Not yet." 

"Okay. Tell me when it does, angel, I’ll come and do it straight away." You lean down. "Don't bother daddy, okay? Just come and ask me if you need something." 

"Can I have some juice?" she asks. 

"Yes, you can have some juice. Can you be patient? I have to make Dove a bottle. Five minutes?" you ask. 

Avery nods without a frown. She really wants juice, but she wants Dove to stop crying more. You give Avery's cheek a little squeeze and leave for downstairs, taking the steps very, very slowly. "It's okay, Dovey," you mumble. "It's okay. I know, you're tired, I'm tired too." 

Avery doesn't want to see the baby —she loves the baby, you and Steve love the baby, everyone loves the baby— 'cos she's ridiculously loud, and Avery needs her ears to work or she'll never be a famous violinist, and then what will she do with her life? She only just started music classes. But Avery misses her dad desperately, having seen him for a ten minute period when he picked her up from school and not a second longer. 

She creeps into the big bedroom. It's a disaster. Steve is sitting in bed with the baby in his arms, rocking her back and forth, hand patting her butt and lower spine steadily. He's shushing with every pat, eyes closed. He looks like he has an unhappy tummy. 

"Daddy?" she whispers. 

His hand flies to his mouth, finger over his lips in the universal sign for Please, be quiet. 

"Are you okay?" she whispers. 

He nods vehemently, finger still over his lip. Avery remembers your recent ask too late —Don't bother daddy. Her eyes flare wide and she tiptoes back to her room, flopping onto the sheets next to Bethie with a defeated sigh. 

"It's hopeless," she dramatises. 

"It's not hopeless, it's just bedtime," Bethie says, much more talkative when it's her and Avery alone. Her pronunciation isn't the best, she's nearly two years younger than Avery, but it's more than passable. "Don't worry, Ave." 

Avery drags her face up from the sheets and pouts at her younger sister. "Mom and dad are both busy and we'll never get ants on a log." 

Bethie tips her head to one side. "Baby's sleeping now." 

"But dad wouldn't speak to me!" 

"Heather's sensi‐stive." 

Heather isn't the baby's name, officially, but it's the one Bethie likes most. Avery liked Tiffany, but no one else liked Tiffany, which was dumb. Tiffany is the best name ever. Way better than Heather.

"Tiffany," she says pointedly, "isn't sensitive, she's just new." Or, that's what Steve says. "We didn't vacuum enough when she came home so now she's not used to big sounds." 

"I'm not used to big sounds," Bethie sighs, curling in on herself. Avery does as she's seen Steve do when Bethie sulks, draping herself over Bethie and hugging her gently. She kisses Bethie's hair. Bethie grumbles, "Avery." 

"What?" Avery asks, rolling off of her. 

Bethie doesn't answer. Avery sits there thinking, and after a while it's clear you're too busy to bring the juice upstairs. 

"Maybe we should try helping." 

Bethie lifts her head off of the pillow. She looks much more like you than the rest of her sisters, same hair, same eyes, same pretty smile. Avery looks the spitting image of her dad in comparison, pretty and in a different way. "What can we do?" Bethie asks. "We're only little." 

"No, dad says we're only little, but mommy says I'm a big girl, like, all of the time. And so does Grandpa." 

"Grandpa says we're too loud." 

"Dad says grandpa's… uhm, senior. It means crazy," Avery says. 

"So we should be little?" Bethie asks. 

"No!" Avery says, annoyed. 

She jumps off of the bed and grabs Bethie's hands, encouraging her sister onto her feet. Together, they cross the landing to peer into the master bedroom, where Steve is still swaying the baby in his arms, his rumpled t-shirt stained with spit up and milk. They're practised at sneaking and Steve is too distracted to see them, whispering soft things into the top of the baby's head. 

Avery is a bit jealous, but she has a plan.

"I don't think we should do that," Bethie says.

Avery's dragged her into the bathroom. It's hard to get inside because of the child lock, but luckily Avery is more than adept. Her dad says she can't ever, never show Bethie or Dove how to do them, the same way she can't show Dove how to unlock the gates at the top and bottom of the stairs yet. She made Bethie close her eyes on the way in. 

"Don't worry, Beth, I've seen daddy do it millions of times already," Avery says confidently. 

They've opened the washing machine and shoved all of Steve's dirty clothes inside. He won't have to do them before bed tonight, and that means more time for snuggles. Avery climbed up onto the side of the machine using a precariously stacked contraption of potties and an upside down laundry basket, and now she's eyeballing how much detergent needs to go in. 

"This is heavy," Bethie complains, her arms shaking from the weight of the Tide liquid. 

Avery really wasn't supposed to show her how to open that cabinet, but she felt it necessary. Bethie won't eat the detergent, anyways, Bethie barely likes eating normal food. Avery pulls the detergent up, having finally decided that they need more. She lets a thick splash of green drizzle down onto the clothes, nodding approvingly, and screws the lid back on. 

She drops the detergent down and a rogue towel muffles the thump, sliding off of the machine and closing the lid. 

You appear looking urgent in the doorway.

"Hey, what have I said about the bathroom? You can't use this one when no one is with you, okay? Do you know what I'm saying?" 

"Sorry, mommy," Bethie says tearfully. 

You soften. "It's for you to be safe, baby." Your softness doesn't quite extend to Avery, though it doesn't fully disappear either. She's most in trouble. "Ave, you know the rules. You can come in here, but you're not supposed to bring the girls with you. I'm not happy with you." 

"Mom, I'm sorry," Avery says, not taking it quite as hard as Beth, "but Bethie needed to pee super badly, we couldn't make it downstairs." 

You buy her lie. "Okay. Okay, but not again. Promise? I just don't want you girls getting into something you shouldn't." 

"Promise," Avery says.

You smile down at them both before looking over their heads. "Daddy must've forgot to turn on the machine. Press start for me, Ave. Big green button." 

Avery clicks the big green button on the washing machine smugly. They already helped. 

You lead them out of the bathroom and back into Avery's room, where cups of juice and an exorbitant amount of snacks wait on the nightstand. They sit on the floor while you make Avery's bed, a plate of ants on logs between their knees. 

"Dove's sleeping downstairs on the beanbag," you say. The baby monitor in your pyjama pocket doesn't make a peep. "So if you do need to pee, please be quiet. And up here, too, I think daddy finally got the baby to sleep as well." 

"Is it bedtime?" Bethie asks. 

You fold back the corner of Avery's comforter. With a sigh, you sit at the top of her freshly made bed and hold out your arms. "No, it's snuggle time. Come and keep me company." 

Bethie rockets into your arms. Avery doesn't rush, focused on eating as many logs as she can, washing it down with a huge swig of strawberry and raspberry juice. You hoist Bethie over one thigh and hold her to your stomach, groaning, "Oh, there she is, there's my girl. Daddy said you didn't eat any of your dinner when you got home, do you wanna tell me why? I won't tell anyone else." 

"I just wasn't hungry." 

"Really? Did you have a big lunch?" 

"No…" Bethie rubs her face against your neck. "Daddy wasn't happy because I didn't eat any lunch." 

"Oh, sweetheart," you say, "daddy worries about you. You don't have an appetite." 

"A what?"

"You don't get hungry enough," you explain.

"That's not like me, I eat lots and lots," Avery says proudly, smiling at you through Bethie's hair in your face. 

"You do! You eat lots and it makes you smart and strong. That's why I want you to eat lots, too," you say, moving your focus to Bethie again, finger poking her chest gently, "You're just as strong and smart as your sister, but you need to keep eating. Maybe I can make you something else, if you don't want the ants on logs, how does that sound? I can make you anything you want, Beth." 

"Can I have something too?" Avery asks, licking peanut butter off of her finger. 

"Of course you can. Maybe something not too big for you, though. I don't want you to feel sick." 

Avery considers that a win. You keep prodding at Bethie, wondering why she isn't hungry. You offer her soups and sandwiches and when that doesn't work you suggest ice cream and candied orange slices. Avery can't understand why her sister would say no to all of these things, but she doesn't have time to ask. Steve wanders into the room looking like he's been trampled by an elephant, hair sticking up and eyes sallow. There's a new baby monitor in his hand. 

"Hey," he says, yawning wide. His teeth snap together and he smacks his lips. "Holy macaroni, she's a toughie. Every time I tried to put her down she'd wake up again." 

Avery has been waiting for this moment all day. She abandons her ants, wiping sticky fingers in her nightie as she crowds Steve's legs. She wants to be picked up, but she's a little too long and Steve's too tired. He bends down to put his arms under her armpits and hug her to his chest, grabbing her up half-hearted and depositing her on the end of her bed. He sits down next to her, and he pats his lap. 

She squeals happily and complies. 

"Hello," he says fondly. 

"What have you even been doing all day?" she asks him. 

He sighs. "I really don't know, Ave. I don't. What have you been doing? Besides half a jar of peanut butter." 

She giggles as he wipes the peanut butter off of her cheeks and the corners of her mouth with the bottom of his t-shirt. "I've been with Beth." 

"We watched FernGully," Bethie supplies helpfully. 

Steve melts as you have, the two of you slouched against the walls bordering Avery's bed. You have matching dark circles. Avery thumbs at Steve's uselessly, wondering if he needs a good wash or a good sleep. He smells nice, she decides, if a bit milky, pressing her face into his neck as her arms lie flat to his shoulders. 

"Is your monitor working now?" you ask him. 

"It's really loud," he assures you. 

"Okay. I'm worried I'm gonna fall asleep while Dove's downstairs on the beanbag." 

"Did you lock the baby gate?" 

"Yeah." 

"Then don't worry. All our furniture is anchored properly. The worst she can do is murder the pot pourri again." 

"I don't want to fall asleep yet, I missed my girls so much," you say, kissing Bethie's cheek. "So, so much. Maybe I can call in sick tomorrow." 

"Honey." 

"It won't hurt anyone," you say. 

"Later," Steve says, talking to you but smiling at Avery, chasing her gaze with his. "We'll talk about it later." 

"So mean to me," you joke in a murmur, sliding flat onto your back, Bethie against your chest. 

Avery can hear you whispering to Bethie, tiny snapshots of a conversation. Are you sure there's nothing wrong, bubby? and If dinner was yucky, it doesn't matter, you can tell me. 

Steve starts to brush Avery's hair out of her face, big fingers exceedingly gentle as he tucks silken strands behind her ears. She had it cut to her chin like Aunt Robin a few weeks ago, and the shorn locks fall to her shoulders now. Steve brushes through them slowly, methodically, tucking it all back with a familiar calmness in his warm brown eyes. 

Avery turns enough to watch TV, content to be held by the very best dad in the world, her hand screwed in the neckline of his shirt so he can't run away.

Having finished her hair, Steve moves on to Avery's face. He draws lines against her small eyebrows, flattening sticky up hair with care. He frets at the tiny mole taking form on her ear, the one he made her go see the doctor for. Just a beauty mark, the doctor said. 

"Well, she's beautiful everywhere," Steve had said. "How was I supposed to know the difference?" 

"Dad," she whispers. 

"What?" Steve whisper back. 

"Am I pretty?" 

Steve pushes her hair out of her face and frames it in two hands. "You're the prettiest girl in the world, Ave." 

She blushes and his face does this thing where he looks like he's going to cry, but Steve doesn't cry around them much. He cried when the baby came home, and again the next day with the baby in his arms. Avery was freaked out the first time, but Aunt Robin said he always does it. He cried way worse than that when you came home, Avey girl. He was like a waterfall, they had to put you in a new babygrow. Avery tried to picture it, her dad crying with a tiny baby Avery in his arms, there are enough pictures of them together, but Steve always looks happy. 

"You think that?" she asks. 

"I more than think it," he says. "Isn't my girl pretty?" 

You and Bethie crane your heads. "She's gorgeous," you say with a smile. Bethie nods her agreement. 

"Oh," Avery says. She'd wanted them to say that, it was why she asked, but now all the attention is on her she's not sure how to handle it.

Steve chuckles and drags her forward. "You're soooo pretty," he says into her hair, sandwiching her in the tightest hug ever. "You're beautiful. B-E-A-U-tiful." 

His niceness makes her really happy to have been nice back; he's being so gentle that Avery decides she's going to tell him about the laundry they put on for him, but he rubs her back some more and she starts to forget. It's not so far from bedtime… 

She falls asleep against his chest. 

"Can you hear that?" you ask.

Steve looks up from Avery's dozing face to you. "What?" 

You pull the baby monitor from your pocket and hold it to your ear. "I thought it was making a weird noise." 

Steve listens intently. Now that you mention it, he can hear something. "D'you put the laundry in?" 

"You forgot to put it on," you say.

"I was getting around to it. You wanted whites, right, for work?" 

"You didn't turn it on." 

"Honey, I haven't touched the machine today, not even to fill the drum. What is that noise?" he asks. 

You ease Bethie off of your lap and stand with a groan. "It's gonna break," you say decisively, "that sounds like a death rattle. Which is exactly what we need right now, more bills."

Steve lays Avery down. She can't have been sleeping for ten minutes but she's a heavy sleeper and doesn't rouse, only curls inward with her hand on her chin. Bethie holds out her hand and Steve takes it, the two of them joining you in the doorway of Avery's bedroom. 

"It won't break, don't worry," Steve placates. 

"What are we gonna do if it breaks?" you mumble, rubbing your tired face.

"We'll have to wear dirty clothes," Steve says. 

"That's not funny." 

Steve frowns. "It so is, you're just tired. And anyway, the washing machine isn't gonna break–" His eyebrows rise. 

"Steve–" 

"Holy fuck," Steve says, squeezing Bethie's hand. "Well, that's bad." 

A line of foamy bubbles are pushing out from under the bathroom door and darkening the carpeting. You rush to open the bathroom door, unleashing a wave of suds that cover your toes. "What the fuck," you say, "what the fuck? Steve, what the fuck." 

Bethie puts her hands over her ears before Steve can do it for her. 

He joins you in the bubbly bathroom, the two of you horrified and baffled at once. "What the fuck," you say again, this time sounding tearful. You click the off button on the washing machine, and while the sloshing, thick sound it was making ceases, bubbles continue to flood out. Together, you and Steve flattens your towels on top of the floor to smother the soap. You're most panicked about the carpet because it'll get damp and the wood underneath it might rot, and Steve's most concerned about the washing machine, because despite his reassurances, he's worried it really might be broken. 

Bethie, quiet, sweet Bethie, stands on a wet towel, her socks soaked, and bursts into guilty tears. "I'm sorry," she cries.

"Why are you sorry?" Steve asks.

You may be confused and irritated, but nothing ever stops you from scooping up your baby and comforting her within and inch of her life. "Beth," you say softly, "don't panic." 

She's crying pretty hard compared to her usual tears. Steve hasn't seen her this wound up since that washable pen burst in her mouth over a year ago, maybe even two. 

"Me and Ave tried to do the laundry," she admits, shaking, each word said through a staggering sob. "We wanted daddy to have less to do so we could have bedtime cu-cu-cuddles." 

"Oh, no," you say gently. 

Bethie sobs. You rub her little back. Steve doesn't like seeing Bethie cry, but he can't help smiling in the moment. It's sweet, and it's a tad silly, but the damage done wasn't nearly as bad as Bethie seems to think it is. You and Steve are worriers, is all. 

"It's okay," you say, laughing yourself as Bethie wraps her arms around your neck and nearly strangles you in an attempt to soak in your love. "Beth, nobody's mad at you, okay? It was just an accident, it didn't hurt anyone. That's really nice, trying to do things for daddy, but the washing machine is for grown ups, baby. It's hard." 

"Mommy?" Dove calls from the baby monitor.

You let out a tired groan. "No," you whine. 

"Want me to get her?" Steve asks. 

You look like you really want to say yes. "No, that's okay. It's fine." You kiss Bethie's cheek. "Daddy has to take over, my love. I'm not mad, okay? Don't feel sad." 

Bethie nods sadly. You hand her over, hovering, and press a loving kiss to her cheek as Dove begins to cry. 

Steve watches you take your socks off as you leave, throwing the wet bundle of them back haphazardly into the bathroom. Bethie smushes her face to Steve's chest and cries. He shifts her weight in his arms. They're burning from exertion, but he doesn't complain. 

"What did you and Avery do?" he asks. "You're not supposed to come in here without me or mom, you know that." 

"We just put the laundry in the washing machine," she says. 

"How did you even lift the lid?" Steve asks. 

"Avery climbed up," she says, words stringing together into one amorphous blob of sound. 

"Beth, why are you crying?" he asks, giving her back a quick pat. 

"I didn't mean to make the bathroom explode," she says tearily. 

"Ugh," Steve says. He puts the toilet seat down and sits, Bethie in his lap, his chin propped on her forehead. "Who cares? I don't even like this bathroom." 

"You're not mad?" she whispers. 

"Do I look mad?" 

Bethie leans backward to take in Steve's face. He smiles at her, brown eyes light in the glaring bathroom fluorescent, his usually even complexion pale. Bethie raises a hand to feel his dark shadow, cringing at the scratch of stubble against her fingers. 

"You don't like my beard, do you?" he asks. 

"What beard?" 

"Oh, ouch. I'll shave tonight, bub, don't worry. I know you don't like it. Mommy doesn't like it either, she says it makes kisses too annoying." 

Bethie giggles quietly. "Not too annoying," she says. 

"No?" Steve asks. He leans down to kiss her cheek and her nose and her eyebrows. "How were they? Scratchy?" 

"Really scratchy." 

"Annoying?" 

"No," she says happily. Steve preens. 

Bethie actually helps him tidy up the huge mess of the bathroom. Steve opens the washing machine and grabs all the soapy clothes from the drum, dumping them among the sodden towels in the bath tub. He and Beth wash as much soap out of them as they can, until she's practically falling asleep standing up in soaked pyjamas. 

He gets her some new ones, helps her change, and tucks her into bed. She's asleep before he's said goodnight. 

Exhausted, Steve has no choice but to persevere. He squeezes the excess water out of the newly unsoaped clothes and puts them and the towels in the washing machine, too tired to bother with separating anything properly. He doesn't add detergent. 

When that's going, he mops and dries the bathroom floor so everyone's feet can stop making sticky sounds when they walk. He puts the last dry towel on the wet patch of carpet and steps on it. He should rub it, soak up all the excess moisture, but he does not have enough energy. 

You ascend the stairs with Dove, your arms shaking from the strain. She's sleeping, so at least there's that. You take her into her room and leave her baby monitor on the side. Dove definitely doesn't need a monitor anymore, it's only for when she's napping downstairs and everyone else is upstairs. Blanket over her legs, you tuck her in and kiss her smooth forehead. 

"You need to shower," you say to Steve as you close Dove's door. 

"All the towels are wet." 

You frown as you pass him by, rubbing his forearm with your finger briefly. "What about a robe? I know it's not ideal, but you're gonna catch a cold, your clothes are wet." 

"I'll get changed." 

"You deserve a warm shower," you insist. 

"Honey," Steve says softly. Your shoulders relax at that one simple word. "I'm fine. We both need to change, and then we need to sleep." If he showered now he'd pass out against the glass like a saran wrapped turkey. 

You and Steve change into fresh pyjamas in silence, worried about waking the baby who sleeps in her cot in the corner of the room.

"I'm gonna go get Avery," Steve says. 

You're not surprised. "Softie." 

"You're a softie," he says, pinching your hip. 

Avery's where Steve left her, sideways across her sheets. He knows Bethie wouldn't have masterminded the laundry plan by herself. He frowns at the thought that Avery might be missing him so much that before bedtime cuddles were on her mind. 

"Avery, honey," he says, stroking her cheek and her shoulder with either hand. 

She murmurs and wiggles away from his touch.

"Ave, come and get in with me and mom. Does that sound okay?" He really doesn't like the idea of his oldest feeling lonely. Sleeping with kids in the bed sucks most of the time due to their flailing and lack of blanket related etiquette, but Steve can deal with it tonight. Just like Bethie, he has a guilty conscious. "Ave?" 

Avery blinks sluggishly. "I can sleep in your bed?" she asks. 

"Please, would you? I want a cuddle. Does that sound cool?" 

Avery finally opens her eyes, her long lashes riddled with sleepies. "That sounds so cool," she says croakily. 

He can't carry her, he'd drop her at this point. They hold hands on the way to your room, finding you an inch from sleep on top of the blankets. He and Avery laugh as quietly as they can as they pull them from under you, and when they climb in together, you steal Avery from his side, awake enough to know one of your girls is close by. 

"Dad," Avery whines, reaching out her arms until he does what she wants. 

Steve throws his arms over you and Avery, snuggling in closely. She relaxes into your chest, her hand clinging to the front of Steve's shirt. 

Steve closes his eyes. 

"We didn't brush our teeth," Avery whispers.

"Go to sleep, sweetheart," you plead, also whispering. 

"We'll get cavities." 

"We'll brush double in the morning," Steve promises. "Please, Ave. Sleep now." 

Averys easily convinced by Steve's hand in her hair. "Okay," she says through a yawn. "Love you love you." 

"Love you, honey." 

"...Dad?" 

Steve sighs. "What?" 

"Did you see? Me and Bethie did laundry." 

"I saw. Thanks, babe." 

"We–" 

"Sleep, Ave. Please go to sleep." 

[greenwitchfromthewoods]

broken trust. [part 5] l Joel Miller

Summary:  you used to be very close, but he broke your heart, now your paths have crossed again

Warnings: +18, angst, swearing, mentioning about sex, violence, blood, crying, guns

A/N: this part is finished this way and not otherwise, because I'm preparing an epilogue. I have to! this part seemed too long to me. I hope you will spend a few nice minutes reading my scribbles. a few people mentioned tagging - @vickie5446 @dreamtofus @missladym1981 @hiroikegawa 🖤 

[PART 3]

A murmur went through the hall and people stared at Tommy uneasily. This wasn't good news. When all the patrols returned to Jackson, one group didn’t bring you good information..

"It's not a big group." Tommy continued ignoring the quiet discussions. "Four, maybe five men. They're armed. Michael and Alex have been watching them for a while."

"They don't seem friendly, dude." Michael, the man with the longer gray beard shook his head. "I think it's the ones from the group we ran into a while ago."

Tommy looked at Joel standing nearby.

"He means the ones you and Ellie met a while ago." He explained. "Y/N, you were very lucky you ran into each other back then."

You threw a quick glance at Joel. He must have been thinking the same thing you were. You were very lucky.

"We need to get our car back before they get to it. I know you're fresh off patrol, I understand if any of you want to back out." the men immediately gave their consent to leave Jackson again "Alright then. We'll meet at the main gate in an hour. Check the weapons. If we succeed, it'll be a quick thing."

People started to leave and only a few, like you, remained in the pub. You had nowhere to go, except to just glance at your empty apartment, so you stayed to drink some warm coffee and rest.

"You were very lucky." Tommy approached you "When you found Joel and Ellie."

"Yeah, I guess." you replied, turning the warm mug over in your hands "One of them gave me a hard time anyway. I don't know how I couldn’t have guessed that there might be more of them."

"You couldn't have helped it." the man sighed "Besides, you found Joel, and for that I will always be grateful." he looked towards his brother, who was sipping whiskey at a long bar "How did the patrol go? Do you get along?"

"It's complicated." you replied, forcing a smile.

"My brother can be complicated." Tommy looked at you carefully after a moment. "Y/N, are you sure you want to come with us? You can stay, no one will hold it against you. You look tired."

"It's fine. I want to go. After all, it was our car."

Tommy nodded and patted you on the shoulder, then went to the next group of men.

Despite trying to smile, you felt every muscle in your body. The patrol had worn you out not only physically. 

On the way back, you and Joel barely spoke. You felt that some chapter had ended between you, but you weren't sure what awaited you next. However, you didn't feel as many bad emotions as before. All the anger and sadness had spilled out on Joel in that forest, and he accepted it, feeling that he deserved it all.

A familiar touch on your back brought your thoughts back to Jackson. Joel stood by you as if unsure that what he was doing was the right thing by approaching you at all.

"It's time," he said calmly. "If you wanted to stay..."

"No, I'm ready." You finished your cold coffee and quickly stood up. "And you? Are you feeling okay?"

He nodded, but a faint smile appeared on his lips. Something had changed between you.

It was already dusk and it had gotten really cold. You were walking through the forest, divided into smaller groups. A few people had horses. You, however, felt more confident on your own feet. Tommy and Joel, and a few other riders weren’t far from you. Everything was going well. You walked between trees more carefully and slowly approached the place where you had left your car.

"I feel safer knowing that there are guards left in Jackson too." the man walking near you muttered.

In your mind, you agreed with him. You couldn't leave Jackson without protection. Everyone, however, was counting on you to return quickly and without any major problems.

You heard a strange crack behind you and turned around, aiming your gun.

"Ellie?!" you hissed, noticing a familiar face in the increasingly dim light. "What the fuck are you doing here?"

"I'm going with you." the girl replied, pulling her gun out of her belt.

"Joel knows?" you asked, but you already knew the answer. "Of course not! Ellie! He'll kill you and then me! Go back to Jackson!"

"Y/N, we're so far away that it would be stupid to send me there alone." the girl noticed, smiling slyly. "I'll stay with you. I'm safe here, with you."

You shook your head in disbelief. You knew Ellie was right. You couldn't let her go to the city alone.

"You're going right next to me, do you understand?"

She nodded and followed you like a shadow.

Now your nerves were strained to the limit. Every sound, every clatter, made your heart beat faster. However, you calmly reached the edge of the forest and saw a car abandoned in the middle of the road.

Everything looked normal. There were no infected nearby, and the vehicle seemed untouched since your escape.

"What are we waiting for?" whispered Ellie after a few minutes when, despite everything, you didn't come out of the trees.

"We're waiting for the signal." You answered her quietly, "Look."

On the other side, someone flashed a small flashlight at you. It was Tommy signaling that the opposite side of the road was safe.

"Can we go now?" Ellie was excited.

"I think so. But..."

"The last one at the car is a stinking egg!"

You didn't have time to catch her. Your fingers only brushed her jacket when the girl ran out of the forest and headed towards the car. Your heart froze for a split second, and then you ran after her with all your might.

"Ellie! Stop!" you hissed.

But you noticed immediately that something was wrong. A strange movement on your left side, it wasn't any infected.

"Ellie!" you shouted after the girl.

That made her look over her shoulder. She slowed down, and you reached out your hand towards her, and then several things happened at once.

A loud gunshot echoed through the quiet area, you ran into Ellie and fell to the ground with her, hiding her under your body, and then you heard the bang of more gunshots.

You tried not to move, afraid that whatever you did would lead to the girl getting hurt. You wouldn't forgive yourself for that, and you couldn't look Joel in the face.

You heard the pounding of hooves, screams, and more gunshots. Tommy's distinct voice, calling out to everyone. After a few minutes, everything seemed to quiet down.

You slid off Ellie and rolled onto your back, exhausted. The girl stood up and that's when you noticed it. Her pale face was terrified and her hands...

"Ellie! Is that blood?" you gasped out "Are you hurt?!"

The girl shook her head and her lips barely moved.

"Y/N... That's not my blood." she whispered.

You didn't understand her words at first. Not her blood? Then whose blood was it?

And then you understood. You looked at your side where a dark stain was growing with every passing moment.

"Shit!"

The adrenaline in your blood effectively minimized the feeling of pain, but when you realized what had happened, everything was more intense.

"We have to stop the bleeding!" the girl whispered. "Like Doc said! We have to put pressure on it!"

When she put her hands on your side you writhed in pain, moaning.

"I'm so sorry, Y/N! I'm so sorry!" Ellie whimpered "Joel! Joel!"

But it wasn't Joel who heard her voice.

"It was worth waiting for you." a male voice boomed from behind the car "I knew someone would come for that car! Now they'll have to talk to me if they want you alive."

The man was pointing a gun at you. He was tall and bulky, he must have been hiding in the car so neither of you saw him. You quickly grabbed Ellie's arm to hide her behind you.

The man's eyes wandered from Ellie to you. He was desperate, and you couldn't do anything being wounded. You lost your gun the moment you threw yourself at Ellie, and she had your blood on her hands.

"Listen, this won't do you any good..." you started slowly, trying to calm him down and buy some time "Our group is bigger..."

"Shut up, bitch!" the gun aimed at you "If they want to get their ladies, they'll have to fucking talk to me!"

It was a second before a dark silhouette appeared behind him, in an instant the man hit his head on the hood of the car, and then again and again. The gun fell from his hand, and Ellie quickly ran up to pick it up from the asphalt.

The man's bloody face didn't even flinch as he fell to the ground.

"Joel!" Ellie squealed at the sight of him.

"What the fuck are you doing here?!" he growled angrily, but he noticed the traces of blood on her hands and face. "Did you..."

"Not me!" she interrupted quickly.

When his gaze fell on you, Joel could have sworn his heart had stopped beating.

"Joel..."

That was all you could stutter as he ran up to you. You hissed in pain as he moved your hands away, touching the still bleeding wound. You saw the fear in his eyes, but his decisions were quick and precise.

He picked you up and headed towards the car. Ellie quickly opened the door for him and put you inside, then she sat in the back.

"Joel? What happened?" Tommy rode up to the car on his horse, looking around nervously. "Is that Y/N?!"

"He shot her!" Joel growled, reaching under the keys lying in the glove compartment and turning on the engine.

"Take her to Jackson! We'll take care of the rest!"

The car started off with a screech. Ellie dug out the first aid kit from under the seat and pulled out a bandage, the same one you gave Joel a while ago. She leaned over, pressing it against your side, you groaned loudly in pain.

"I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!" she stuttered quickly, but didn't stop pressing.

"What the fuck were you doing there?!" Joel snapped, throwing a quick look at you. "You were supposed to stay in Jackson!"

"Leave it." you groaned. "She's fine..."

"Yeah, but you're pouring blood on the passenger seat!"

The car jumped on the bumps in the road and your scream of pain filled the interior. Joel didn't say a word, focusing on the road. His hands were gripping the steering wheel so tightly that he was surprised it hadn't broken yet.

When he saw the gates of the town, he blinked his lights a few times and the doors opened, letting him inside so that he didn't even have to slow down much. The car stopped only in front of the clinic.

"Y/N?"

"I'm fine." you replied, although your eyes closed every now and then.

Doc was surprised when the clinic doors opened with a bang and Joel stood there with you helpless in his arms.

"Help her."

That was all he could say. Doc pointed to the bed, then quickly rolled up your shirt. You groaned and writhed in pain. His fingers touched your bleeding wound, trying to determine its size.

"I think it missed the most important organs." Doc muttered after a moment. "But I'll have to open it and pull the bullet out."

The door opened again and Ellie went inside. The sight must have been terrible, because the girl's face was pale as snow and she barely managed to mumble:

"Is she going to be okay?"

"Run for Mrs. Waltz!" Doc ordered her quickly. "I need help!"

The girl nodded and quickly ran out of the building. Doc went to the cabinet, starting to prepare the tools for the surgery.

"Joel..."

Your voice was weak, but he reacted instantly. He grabbed your blood-stained hand, and with the other he stroked your hair.

"It's okay, baby. You're safe." He said, feeling something stab painfully into his heart, and his mind screaming that he was lying to himself "I know it hurts. But it's gonna be okay, Doc will help you."

"I'm not scared, Joel..." your voice was barely audible. "I'm with you, I'm not scared..."

When you closed your eyes, time stopped.

The sink was full of red-tinged water. He stared at it as if hypnotized. The steamy bathroom was silent and the silence was in his head too. He just stared at something that used to be a part of you.

If someone ever asked him what happened after Doc made the decision to operate, Joel wouldn't be able to recall that moment. Everything was like a fog.

He knew he was sitting in the waiting room completely frozen, staring at his bloody hands. He didn't notice Ellie sitting on the other side of the room with her legs pulled up on the chair, as quiet as ever.

He didn't remember Tommy, who had appeared out of breath with the information that only the man Joel wanted to beat had survived.

He just sat there feeling that if he heard bad news, what was left of his heart would shatter into a thousand pieces.

After more than an hour, Doc appeared. His apron was covered in your blood too. He spoke strange words, Joel wasn't sure if he even understood them.

"Is she alive?" he asked finally.

"Yes, she is." Doc nodded. "Her body is very weak, but she is alive. You brought her in at the last moment, Joel. You saved her."

But he didn't feel it. He saw you through the open door, lying unconscious in the bed, and tears came to his eyes. Doc patted him on the shoulder, suggesting that he go home, wash up, and rest. There was nothing more he could do for you.

Joel put on clean clothes and then simply fell onto the bed and fell asleep in an instant. He had no dreams. He didn't even know how long he had been asleep. The weak, slowly setting sun filled his bedroom and for a moment he even forgot about everything that had happened the previous night. He came to the conclusion that he must have slept the whole day.

Ellie didn't wake him up, though. She left him a meal on the table before she left the house.

He found her some time later in the clinic.

"Hi." she said quietly, dipped a cloth in a bowl of water..

"What are you doing?" he asked, approaching the bed.

"I couldn't look at how dirty she was." the girl replied, wiping your hands with the cloth. "Doc said she had a good night. He gave her antibiotics just in case. But he thinks she'll be okay."

Joel nodded. It all seemed simply unreal to him. He guessed that Ellie felt guilty. If it weren't for her reckless behavior, you wouldn't be lying unconscious now. So she did what she could. He noticed a small bouquet of the last wildflowers on the table, she had to pick them for you.

"Joel, I didn't want her to get hurt..." the girl's voice was trembling. "I was stupid, I know that. Y/N just wanted to stop me. She didn't want anything to happen to me..."

"Yeah, I know that." he replied, even though he wanted to spill everything that was on his mind at that moment to Ellie "She'll feel better soon, you'll see."

The girl nodded and rubbed her reddened eyes with her hand. 

"Go get some rest." He mumbled, approaching her and placing his hand on her shoulder. "I'll finish this for you."

She nodded again. She squeezed your hand one more time and left, leaving him alone.

Joel sat down in her place, soaked a cloth in warm water and looked at your face. You looked like you were sleeping, and in reality, you must have been. The medication Doc gave you must have been pretty strong.

"Hi." He greeted you quietly and reached for your hand.

It was a wonderful feeling to feel your warm skin in his hand. He kissed the back of it. A sense of guilt grew in his heart. He wanted to protect you from all the evil in the world so much, and now you were lying unconscious when they had barely torn you from the clutches of death.

He felt guilty for everything and what had led to this situation. When he lied to you the first time and when he had tried so clumsily to get you back when you were on edge not knowing what to do. All his actions and decisions had led to this. He was devastated, tired and didn't know what to do next.

He adored you like this and in such moments. Totally drunk on him. Your body was subservient to his pressure and touch. His cock buried deep inside you, sweet moans leaving your lips with every exhale.

Your fingers intertwined above your head, his face hidden close to your neck. You felt his breath on your skin, so hot that it almost burned you.

"I'm so close..." you moaned, feeling his every thrust clearly "Joel, please..."

"What are you asking for, love? Tell me..."

His voice was so quiet and calm. He had been fucking you for a long time, he had given himself time to play with you, like a predator with its prey. You had already come twice and your body was sensitive to his every move and touch.

"Let me... I can't take it anymore, I want to come..." you replied, feeling his lips gently sucking the skin on your neck "You're torturing me."

"Me?" he laughed quietly "Oh, honey... I guess you didn't see yourself. So beautiful, and just mine..."

"Too much whiskey, Joel!" you laughed "A little more and I'll think you've fallen in love with me!"

Your gazes met. His beautiful brown eyes stared at you as if he wanted to tell you something. But his lips refused to obey him. Or maybe you didn't want to hear it? Such things were not reasonable in QZ.

Of course, there were families in Boston, but it wasn't the same as many years ago. There was little laughter on the streets or couples walking hand in hand. Feelings were carefully hidden within the four walls of rooms. They were safe there.

So it was better not to name anything. Live day by day, enjoy what you had. You knew that you were close to him, that he wanted to protect you and take care of you. You did the same to him. It felt good, it felt safe.

His hips moved, and his cock hit exactly the place you needed. You closed your eyes and bit your lip, sighing quietly.

"Joel?"

"Yeah, baby..."

"Joel?" your voice was so quiet and calm "Joel..."

Something strange was happening. He could feel it on himself. A strange feeling like something was moving through his hair, slowly and gently. Joel opened his sleepy eyes.

"Hi."

Your voice was weak and barely audible, but it was yours. He could see your lips moving, familiar eyes looking at him with concern. It was your hand stroking his hair.

"Hi, baby." he replied, lifting his head from his arms that were lying on your bed. "I must have fallen asleep."

"I should say your snoring woke me up."

"How are you feeling?" Joel took your hand tenderly and kissed it. "I'll call Doc."

"I’m fine. How's Ellie?"

"She's okay, although she was worried about you. I had to throw her out of here because she would have been sitting here all day."

"Oh, I see." you smiled weakly. "And no one told you to leave?"

"They wouldn't have made it."

"Mhm. Joel? Thank you." You saw him frown in surprise "Thank you. I'm alive thanks to you."

"Don't say that." He shook his head "You would have survived, you're strong. The strongest person I know."

"Oh, yeah!" You laughed quietly "I would have crawled to the car and operated on myself with a pocket knife." You squeezed his hand tighter "I really thank you, Joel."

He smiled, his face brightening.

[epilogue]

☆☆☆

Thank you for your time.

[jasmineandcedar]

"No shadows at his ear, no darkness ringing his fingers as he extended a hand." | What it means for shadows to vanish

I've seen there's some discussion in the Elriel tag about the meaning of Azriel's shadows vanishing. I know the idea of them vanishing having negative implications for Azriel is pushed a lot and somehow it seems a lot of people have accepted this as somehow rooted in canon. It isn't. Now, I absolutely don't want to police how people engage with canon, it is a work of fiction and it is totally fine to take creative liberty in how we engage with it. That is not an issue. But I don't like to see people be made to believe that what they've read didn't happen, or to see obvious misrepresentations of canon be pushed as canon if it is to the point that people seem to worry or be confused. I hope this explains my intention with this post. We should all feel free to keep engaging creatively with works of fiction.

Take this as a gentle reminder of the circumstances under which Azriel's shadows vanish.

I've written a longer post where I explore the behaviour of Azriel's shadows (here). But I wanted to post the section about his shadows vanishing in a separate post, so here it is:

We don't really need an explicit explanation of what it means for Azriel for his shadows to vanish to tell the circumstances under which they do, because SJM has quite clearly showed us (which in my view, for my reading experience, is a preferred narrative technique because I it makes me actively engage with the text).

It is true that there is very little overall consistency in the depictions and descriptions of his shadows behavior. One pattern is that if they move around a lot or gather closer to Azriel, he is usually in some form of emotional and/or physical distress. However, this pattern is not entirely consistent. They sometimes do when he is seemingly not in distress.

But there is one pattern of behaviour that is entirely consistent, meaning it is so consistent we can say with certainty that given the current status of canon - we know under what circumstances this happens. The only entirely consistent pattern about the behavior of his shadows is that they are only described as vanishing, fading, or lighting up when he is happy, content, and relaxed. In all five books, this has to my knowledge only (as in, being explicitly mentioned) happened around Feyre, Elain, and Mor (because of Mor, but in the presence of more members of the IC).

[When Feyre first meets the IC] Mor patted Azriel on the shoulder as she dodged his outstretched wing. “Relax, Az—no fighting tonight. We promised Rhys.” The lurking shadows vanished entirely as Azriel’s head dipped a bit—his night-dark hair sliding over his handsome face as if to shield him from that mercilessly beautiful grin. (ACOMAF)

[Feyre, about Azriel] Yes—Azriel, who kept a step away, whose shadows trailed him and seemed to fade in her [Mor’s] presence. (ACOMAF)

[Feyre, flying with Azriel] Then we tilted, shooting straight. Azriel’s body was warm and hard, though those brutalized hands were considerate as he gripped me. No shadows trailed us, as if he’d left them in Velaris. (ACOMAF)

[Feyre introduces Cass, Az, and Rhys to her sisters during their first meeting] “Cassian,” I said, inclining my head to the left. Then I shifted to the right, grateful those shadows were nowhere to be found as I said, “Azriel.” I half turned. “And Rhysand, High Lord of the Night Court.” (ACOMAF)

[Banter during dinner with the IC] Cassian only grimaced at Rhys and Azriel. “I told you that the moment we started letting females into our group, they’d be nothing but trouble.” “As far as I can recall, Cassian,” Rhys countered drily, “you actually said you needed a reprieve from staring at our ugly faces, and that some ladies would add some much-needed prettiness for you to look at all day.” “Pig,” Amren said. Cassian gave her a vulgar gesture that made Lucien choke on his green beans. “I was a young Illyrian and didn’t know better,” he said, then pointed his fork at Azriel. “Don’t try to blend into the shadows. You said the same thing.” “He did not,” Mor said, and the shadows that Azriel had indeed been subtly weaving around himself vanished. “Azriel has never once said anything that awful. Only you, Cassian. Only you.” (ACOWAR)

Azriel arrived first, no shadows to be seen, my sister a pale, golden mass in his arms. He, too, wore his Illyrian armor, Elain’s golden-brown hair snagging in some of the black scales across his chest and shoulders.  (ACOWAR)

[During flying lesson with Feyre] Azriel only sat on his heels and offered me a hand up. My flesh burned as I gripped his fingers, a mortifying number of pine needles and splinters tumbling off me. My back throbbed enough that I lowered my wings, not caring if they dragged in the dirt as Azriel led me toward the lake edge. In the blinding sun off the turquoise water, his shadows were gone, his face stark and clear. More … human than I had ever seen him. (ACOWAR)

[Azriel at the town house with Feyre, Cassian, Nesta, and Elain] Cassian’s dark brows narrowed. I dragged a hand over my face before going to Elain and touching her too-bony shoulder. “Can I set you up in the garden? The herbs you planted are coming in nicely.” “I can help her,” said Azriel, stepping to the table as Elain silently rose. No shadows at his ear, no darkness ringing his fingers as he extended a hand. Nesta monitored him like a hawk, but kept silent as Elain took his hand, and out they went. (ACOWAR)

[Solstice night] Elain sucked in a soft breath that whispered over his skin. His shadows skittered back at the sound. They'd always been prone to vanish when she was around. (Azriel’s BC)

I think the above examples show his shadows’ behaviour is consistent with the idea of the shadows being there to protect him, by shielding him and informing him (in the longer post I explore how we need to know what the shadows provide to know what it means for them to vanish, see the longer post for excerpts from the books).

If the above is accepted as true. What does it mean for the shadows to vanish? It means there is no need to be shielded, and there’s no need to gather information. Because there’s no need for protection. He is safe and content. The shadows vanish when he is safe and not under any form of emotional or physical distress. This view seems entirely consistent with canon (as seen above).

It is also true, if we look at canon, that Azriel's gentle and soft traits come out the most around Feyre and, even more, around Elain - two of the only three people in whose presence his shadows are described as vanishing or fading (again, there are excerpts from canon in the longer post that show this). To say that his shadows vanishing is somehow indicative of the shadows not liking that person, or that person being evil or bad for Azriel is simply not aligning with canon. Canonically, the shadows only vanish when the opposite is true.

Shadows vanishing coincide with Azriel being able to express his caring and gentle side, not needing to be stone-faced and shielded. As such, his shadows vanishing cannot be described as anything other than positive (meaning Azriel is in a positive situation). Not needing his shadows is character development for Azriel, as it seems to mean he is letting go of being unreadable and guarded and constantly informed of his surroundings. He is joking and connecting with Feyre by the lake during her flying lessons (shadows vanished). He is relaxed, happy and content (and smitten, to put it lightly) around Elain (shadows vanished).

To conclude, who is the only person around whom the shadows are described by Azriel himself, the one the shadows keep company, as “prone to vanish” (Azriel’s BC)? Elain. It now becomes quite clear what it means for his shadows to vanish.

[Azriel flies Elain to the town house] Azriel arrived first, no shadows to be seen, my sister a pale, golden mass in his arms. He, too, wore his Illyrian armor, Elain’s golden-brown hair snagging in some of the black scales across his chest and shoulders. He set her down gently on the foyer carpet, having carried her in through the front door. Elain peered up at his patient, solemn face. Azriel smiled faintly. “Would you like me to show you the garden?” She seemed so small before him, so fragile compared to the scales of his fighting leathers, the breadth of his shoulders. The wings peeking over them. But Elain did not balk from him, did not shy away as she nodded—just once. Azriel, graceful as any courtier, offered her an arm. I couldn’t tell if she was looking at his blue Siphon or at his scarred skin beneath as she breathed, “Beautiful.” Color bloomed high on Azriel’s golden-brown cheeks, but he inclined his head in thanks and led my sister toward the back doors into the garden, sunlight bathing them. (ACOWAR)

[Elain and Azriel in the garden] Elain sat silently at one of the wrought-iron tables, a cup of tea before her. Azriel was sprawled on the chaise longue across the gray stones, sunning his wings and reading what looked to be a stack of reports—likely information on the Autumn Court that he planned to present to Rhys once he’d sorted through it all. Already dressed for the Hewn City—the brutal, beautiful armor so at odds with the lovely garden. And my sister sitting within it. (ACOWAR)

With the two quotes above, I want to tie this to the symbolism of light and dark surrounding Elain and Azriel. So I will now perhaps speak a little in symbolic terms: Azriel relaxes in the presence of light. His shadows vanish. There is peace and quiet in the presence of light. He suns his wings where there is light. Why? We know how defensive Illyrian males are about their wings. Rhys didn’t let anyone so much as touch his wings for 500 years. So, what could it mean for an Illyrian male to be so relaxed as to sun his wings in someone’s company? There is only one reason any Illyrian male would be so lax about their surroundings as to sun his wings. To sun your wings is to be safe. His shadows, who shield and protect him, do not need to do so where there is light.

Around whom do his shadows vanish? Around whom are they even “prone to vanish” (Azriel’s BC)? Around the one with whom he is the most gentle and soft, because she inspires it and that is who he is when he is not in distress. Around the one who is consistently described as the very manifestation of light and sunshine. She is “like a summer dawn” (ACOMAF), “full of light”, like a “blooming spring” (ACOWAR), a “bloom of color and sunshine” (ACOFAS), “glowing like the sun at dawn” (Azriel’s BC), with a smile “as bright as the setting sun” (ACOSF).

Elain.

The lovely fawn, blooming spring vibrant behind her.

I think Feyre was partly wrong. At least, she only got half of the equation right. She said Elain would cling to Azriel for some peace and quiet (ACOMAF). From what we have seen, it goes both ways. Azriel clings to Elain for peace and quiet. In doing so his shadows vanish. Because he is safe, content, and himself.

And then, shadows vanished, he suns his wings.

[bweeeb]

PLS DO AN ENEMIES TO LOVERS THEO FF

" FIVE DAYS TO FALL IN LOVE "

Enemies to lovers

Theodore Nott x Y/n Hilton

Notes: Heyyy, I'm sorry about this writing, I tried to write something good but I ended up realizing that I have to work more with Enemies to lovers 🤣 I hope you still like what is written a little, I know I can do better with it, but I didn't want to throw away this work, so that's it, my apologies

Summary: A forced marriage is synonymous with hate, but perhaps one of them started falling in love before

Blood supremacy in the wizarding high society has always been a striking factor in the wizarding world. If you're a Muggle-born, you end up with nothing; some say their fate is to fade into oblivion. Conversely, if you are part of the blood supremacy, you'll have everything you want or whatever your parents desire. Y/n never agreed with her family's obsession, but she never intervened directly and that's why she claims she ended up where she was now. With firm steps, Y/n descended the stairs of her house with crossed arms and a scowl on her face. The low conversation echoed through the hall, and Miss Hilton's gaze went to the maid standing at the bottom of the stairs and a gentle smile was sent her way, which she kindly returned before speaking.— Your parents are waiting for you in the living room...with guests. The elderly woman informed, and Y/n gently patted her left shoulder.

— Thank's , Lydia.

She thanked her before walking towards the French doors leading to the living room where her parents awaited her future - literally, her future.

— Y/n, there you are! Y/n’s mother said, rising from the couch where she was sitting with her husband and two figures of which Y/n knew very well, Theodore Nott and his father.

— You've arrived just in time to meet your husband, dear. Her father said to her, and with a push from Mr. Nott, Theodore stepped forward and grabbed Hilton's hand, placing a kiss on the back of her hand.

— This is Theodore Nott, Y/n...

Y/n’s father said once more, and blood rushed to Y/n's head as she looked at her father with anger.

— I know who he is, father. It’s not like we didn't study at Hogwarts together. Y/n said harshly, and Mr. Nott's face tightened in confusion, as did Theodore's, who was no longer holding her hand. It had been a year since Y/n and Theodore had graduated, and it was no secret that their parents were desperate to maintain the pure-blood lineage. Both hated being there, but Y/n was more openly resentful about the situation.

— Y/n, where are the manners I taught you? Her mother looked horrified, and a sigh of regret escaped Y/n’s lips.

— I'm sorry, Dad. She apologized.

— It's okay, dear, I understand that the wedding nerves are getting to you. Her father said, and a crooked smile appeared on Y/n’s lips as she looked at her Givenchy boots, feeling nothing but anguish inside. Theodore wasn't an ugly man, quite the opposite; her friends drooled over Nott during school, and Y/n couldn't deny that even she found Theodore Nott attractive. But his reputation was terrible, which made everything worse. Y/n wanted to be with someone she truly loved, not just anyone for the sake of status.

— Perhaps you two should walk through the garden to get to know each other again. Mr. Nott suggested for the first time in that conversation, and all Y/n did was nod without looking anyone in the eye. She saw Theodore extend his arm towards her, which she accepted.

When they were far enough from their parents' eyes, Y/n released Theodore's arm and continued walking beside him without much intention of speaking, unlike Theodore, who was already uncomfortable with the fact that she hadn't looked him in the eyes.— Are you blind or something? The voice loaded with an Italian accent made Y/n stop walking and frown. Turning to face him and looking him in the eyes for the first time since the beginning of the interaction.

— Excuse me?

— You didn't look at me for a second, I thought you couldn’t see, but apparently, it was just ignorance... Theodore said bitterly, and Y/n’s face became more irritated.

— Ignorance? For the Gods, Theodore, the ignorance is yours for accepting this ridiculous marriage idea. The young woman said, rolling her eyes and continuing to walk into her garden.

— It’s not like I wanted this, Y/n. He said a little behind her.

— I know they asked if you agreed, Nott….

Y/n retorted without even looking back.

— How would you know?

— Because they always care about the man's opinion! Now answer me, did you at least have a choice? Y/n turned to face Theodore up close, and her face exuded truth, she could see it.

— It was either a Hufflepuff, Eloise Midgen, Pansy... Parkinson or you.

— You had three choices… I found out about this yesterday. Go to hell, Nott. How could I be ignorant?Y/n's voice was never loud, but she didn't need to shout for Theo to feel the venom spraying at him.

— I didn't want this, Y/n.

— Then stay away from me, Theodore.

Inevitably, staying away from each other wasn't easy until after the wedding. Their parents wanted to see physical contact and closeness between the two; it was important for the wedding guests to know they were happy with each other, even if it was a lie.

A year later, it was already common for both of them: no physical touch, no exchanged conversations, kisses only during sex, and that was their life. Theodore worked at his father's company, which after the wedding, was also associated with the Hilton name. Y/n had not been assigned any role like her mother, and she hated sitting where she was, feeling useless and alone. And that's how she felt at the charity party her parents organized. Theodore was with his friends near the pool, her parents were somewhere inside the house already drunk, and she was alone, occasionally looking at her glass of white wine.

She didn't want to look miserable, but she already was.

— Don't you think you should keep your wife company, Theo? Pansy, who was next to Theodore, asked him, glancing outside the friends' circle to where she had decided to sit.

— She's fine! Theo said, still looking at Y/n.

— She looks really bored, Theo. Daphne interjected into the conversation, and from there, all of Nott's friends were in on it.

— She's always like that, it doesn’t matter. Theo shrugged, trying not to give importance to the situation his friends were giving.

— Man, if you look into her eyes, she's miserably bored, where are her friends? Mattheo said, and Theo looked at Y/n once more until Draco's voice called his attention again.

— I'd be miserable too, imagine waking up every day with this guy next to you. — Horror movie.

—Someone can't make the little princess cum, I think. Draco provoked Theodore, who pushed his friend's arm — Shut up, asshole. I'm sure I do twice as much as you do. The group laughed and briefly forgot about the subject, but not Theodore, he kept his eyes on her all night and wondered why she were so alone.

At the end of the night, Theodore drove back to their house, and the strange air in the car bothered Theo. His left hand left the steering wheel and slid up her thigh, revealed by the dress that had ridden up when she sat down. Despite the warmth of his hand against her skin, Y/n’s gaze, much to Theodore's dismay, did not turn to him. She was quiet, quieter than usual.

— No music? He asked, and she shrugged, briefly glancing at him. Y/n might not talk much to him, but Theodore had gotten used to hearing her hum along to songs during the car rides. — Why didn't your friends come today? Theo's sincere doubt reached Y/n, who just kept looking at her ring-laden hands.

— They're very busy. "They're busy because they don't exist," Y/n thought before sighing tiredly.

— Busy on a Friday night? Theodore asked, confused.

— Your friends seem nice. Y/n said, changing the subject.

— Yeah, they are...

The rest of the car ride was silent, so silent that Theo thought the sound of his eyes alternating between the woman beside him and the road could be heard.

When they arrived, both got out of the car and went separate ways. Y/n went up the stairs so fast it was as if she had apparated, disappearing from Theodore's view. When he went upstairs, the bathroom door opened minutes later, and Y/n emerged from the bath with a towel wrapped around her body.

— Sorry, I didn't know you were up here. Y/n apologized, referring to the towel, and Theodore's face contorted.

— Why? This is my room too.

— I know, I meant about the towel, Theodore. You usually don't sleep here so i thought that i would be alone... She said, and Theo felt a pang of guilt fill his chest, looking now at the naked back of the woman as she sighed, realizing he was leaving her alone in bed more times than he wished.

— I thought you wanted space…. He said, and the silence remained between them.

— Yes, a year ago, you're right. Her whisper was so low that Theo almost didn't hear it, but hearing it, he knew something was wrong.

— What do you mean?

— What do you mean? Y/n asked, taking off the towel from her body and putting on her underwear.

— Why did you say that in that tone? I thought you wanted me away from you. Theodore was more harsh with his words, and Y/n shrugged, glancing at him over her shoulder.

— I don't know, Theodore. Y/n shook her head while putting on her pajamas, thinking she had finished the conversation. Theo held her arm and turned her to look at him.

— Talk to me, Y/n.

— I don't know what you want me to say, Theodore. She exploded, and Theodore laughed without humor.

— What is your problem? He asked, and Y/n freed herself from his grip.

— You are my problem, Theodore Nott.

— No, you are your own problem, you can't seem happy. Even my damn friends noticed your miserable face today. You have EVERYTHING. Theo huffed, and the woman in front of him clenched her jaw in anger

— I'm NOT happy, Theodore. I have NOTHING, I don't have good parents, I don't have friends, I don't have love, I constantly feel alone, and I can't seem happy BECAUSE I'M NOT. So don't come at me with this now, you have everything, not me. Y/n said angrily as tears shimmered in her eyes. — And I heard you're cheating on me with your secretary, which made me feel even more useless.

— What? I didn't cheat on you! — Theodore said desperately. — Y/n! I didn't cheat on you! I would never do that! Theo walked up to her, stopping in front of her side of the bed, where she was about to sit down. — Fuck it, who told you that?

— It doesn't matter…

— Dolcezza, I would never do that to you.

He said, placing his hands on her cheeks, wiping the tears that streamed down with his thumbs.

— You hate me, of course you would. She said weakly, so weakly that Theo almost felt his knees give way. He might not show all his love for her, but he had promised to love and protect her above all else, he had made that promise at the altar and to her father when he chose her, and all he was doing was the opposite of that.

— I don't hate you.

— Yes, you do…

— You don't hate me, how could o hate you? Theo whispered, stroking her cheek.

— You hate me because I hate you.

— Then say you hate me.

— I hate you. She murmured without conviction and sniffed afterwards.

— If you hate me so much, why are you crying for me, mia cara? We have to stop this hate game, you are my real wife, bella. Theo whispered and gently joined his lips to hers in a kiss unlike anything they had ever felt.

— That's not what I wanted, Theo. Another sniffle came from her nose when she pulled away from his lips.

— Don't you want me to kiss you? What did you want, Principessa? Please let me get it right with you once. Theo begged and Y/n closed her eyes trying to control her emotions, and so did she and shook her head in rapid movements. — Y/n, talk to me please.

— My whole life, my friends, my clothes, what I'd eat, were all my parents' choices, and the only thing that would really be mine was also chosen by them, Theo. I have nothing and there's no way you can fix it because you became something of theirs, not mine. — silence settled between them and Y/n replaced the smendel with hers, pushing away the tears streaming down her cheek — Shit, I'm sorry, I didn't want to be complaining to you. You should go to sleep.

She said turning her back on the man who stood behind her watching her take the blankets on the bed made and lie down.

— I can be yours! Y/n, I can be yours. — Theodore said it in a way that Y/n had never heard him say before, it was as if he was afraid that she would disappear forever.

— You don't have do this, Theo... And that was something they both didn't understand, he wanted to do that.

As soon as he sees her, Theo walks to the other side, takes off his clothes, leaving only his underwear and lies down next to Y/n. It had been so long since he lay there that he was amazed at the softness and comfort the bed gave him and once again he felt guilty.

— You don't have to sleep here out of pity, Theodore. Y/n said demonstrating less of her vulnerability as she stared at the ceiling.

— I want to be here, Y/n. Can't you see? — Theodore murmured looking at the woman's profile next to him.

— Theodore?

— Yes?

— Are you sure you didn't do anything with your secretary? Y/n asked and Theo took her hand which was above his belly.

— Look at me, please. He asked and so she did

— Do you know why I chose you? I know nothing was fair in all this, but I need you to know why I chose you.

— Why?

— I remember you in the fifth year, in the astronomy class, you were in a corner with two other girls and they wouldn't shut up and I saw you making a wish for shooting star that passed in the sky, I found it genuine and I started watching you and realized that you were beautiful and very interesting, I realized that you were worth it, I realized that I wanted you…— Theo sighed as if it had become a weight on his back — Pansy was never an option because she is my friend and is in love with Draco, my father would never make me marry some girl that I didn't approve of, you are incomparable to the rest and I saw that it was you when you started to hate me when I stepped in front of you and…

— I never really hated you, Theodore…I just realized that it was easier to hate someone who hadn't hated him yet than whoever caused it. Y/n said.

— Let me fix this. Theo asked pulling Y/n for more and eptonde his body.

— I'll give you five days to fall in love with you, Theodore Nott.

— I'll do whatever you want, Y/n Nott. Theo would burn the world if she asked, and now that he knows he doesn't hate him, he'd do anything to make her fall in love with him

[illiterateaffairs]

behind the scenes chapter two | the proposal

masterlist | prev | next

pairing: jamie tartt x actress!reader (ted lasso)

rating: T

word count: 4,116

summary: jamie makes you an offer you can’t refuse...or can you?

a/n: hi everyone! while this took a little longer than i hoped, i proudly present chapter 2 of behind the scenes! we are finally ramping up folks. i wish i could promise a regular upload schedule for this story, but i have had a lot going on this summer. but i have a free weekend now so hoping to get some chapters written that i can share a little at a time. for now, i hope you enjoy this new installment and i cannot wait to hear what you think!

It was still too early to really say, but the Richmond Greyhounds had a good feeling about this season,

They were coming off of a five game winning streak to start, and no one wanted to jinx it. Even so, they celebrated each win like it was their last, Isaac often treating them to a party at his place or Sam inviting them to his restaurant. Tonight though, Jamie was feeling particularly generous and offered drinks on him at Crown and Anchor. Of course, because he was footing the bill, suddenly everyone was available for a night out. That meant the whole team, the club staff, and their significant others. Including Keeley. 

Honestly, Jamie had thought he’d been feeling better about the whole Roy and Keeley thing. But that was until one or both of them gave him that look. The “I’m sorry we’re together while you’re sad and alone” look. But he wasn’t sad. Or alone. He had his whole bloody team surrounding him. And what the fuck was wrong with being alone anyway? 

Still it was annoying to accidentally catch Keeley’s eye when she was laughing with Roy and watch her happy face morph into one filled with guilt. 

Jamie was enjoying himself at the bar with Sam, when he glanced over at Keeley from across the room. She and Rebecca were currently egging on their significant others who were engaged in a friendly game of darts. Jamie hadn’t meant to linger on her, but when she turned her head and found him looking in her direction, he froze. In an effort to assuage her sympathetic smile, he gave her a bigger one of his own and titled his pint glass towards her. Unfortunately, this just led to the blonde snaking her way through the crowd to get to him.

“Hello, boys,” she greets him and Sam.

Jamie nods at her, while Sam beams, “Hi Keeley! How have you been?”

“I’ve been great! How’ve you been, Sam?”

“Good. Even better after the win today.”

“I bet, you killed it out there,” Keeley nudged the footballer, “That last goal was incredible.”

Sam laughs and accepts the compliment. Keeley quickly turns to Jamie. 

“You were amazing, too, Jamie!”

Jamie gives her a tight smile, “Thanks, Keeley.”

Keeley nods with a small smile of her own. Then she turns to the bartender to order a martini. 

While her attention is elsewhere, Sam gives Jamie a discreet look that says “she’s still feeling sorry for you?”. Jamie just shakes his head while Sam pats him on the back. Unfortunately, this is the moment that Richard and Bumbercatch decide to call Sam over to their table, leaving Jamie and Keeley alone at the bar. 

When Keeley receives her drink, he half expects her to head back over to Roy. But of course not. She parks herself right in the seat Sam used to occupy.

“So, what’s been going on with you lately, Jamie? Feel like I’ve hardly seen you for a bit.”

That’s been intentional. But he can’t tell her that. 

He shrugs, “Uh, nothing much. Just focused on playing my best this season.”

Keeley nods, “Roy says you’ve been improving a lot during your trainings.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. I can tell he’s really proud of you.” 

Jamie huffs. He knows she’s telling the truth. He also knows that she’s not telling him this for no reason.

“You know, though, Jamie, there’s more to life than football?” Keeley adds when he doesn’t say anything else. “I get that you want to be the best. But you deserve a life outside of being a footballer. You should be taking time for yourself. Or going out with other people and doing non-football things.”

Jamie chuckles, rubbing at the condensation on his glass, “I’m doing that right now, aren’t I?”

Keeley laughs, “Well, yeah, but it's with the people you see everyday, celebrating the fact that you won a football match. You should be doing other things. Meeting other people. More friends. People who could be…more than friends.”

There it is. 

Jamie sighs, finally facing her again, “Keeley, I promise you I’m fine. I do loads of things outside of football, with loads of people. I can also assure you I don’t need your help finding people to date either.”

Keeley frowns. Before she can attempt to clarify her concern, someone bursts through the pub’s doors, grabbing everyone’s attention.

Leave it to Dani Rojas to show up late with a girl on each arm.

“You guys!” he exclaims, “Some people are closing the streets over here and I saw a couple of trailers around the corner. I think they’re filming that one movie here this week!”

Suddenly the bar is flooded by excited chatter - more than it was before. Not a day has passed without someone talking about the big rom-com shooting in Richmond since production started last week. A couple members of the team head outside to check it out for themselves. 

Jamie laughs to himself as he turns back around in his seat. He made a conscious decision to not tell anyone about his encounter with the famous actress starring in said movie. Mainly because no one would believe him. But he also sort of just wanted to keep that memory for himself. 

As he goes over that morning, once again, in his head, he remembers the blonde beside him, who is still looking at him with sad eyes. He slowly turns back to face her. 

“Jamie, I know your life and your relationships are really none of my business,” she starts off again now that she has his attention, “I just don’t want you to shut anyone out-”

“I’m not shutting anyone out,” he quickly insists.

“But Jamie-”

“Actually, I’ve been seeing someone,” he says before he can stop himself, or even process what he’s doing.

Keeley’s eyebrows raise in surprise, “Really?”

Shit. 

Jamie instantly regrets his words, but he knows walking it back would make him feel even worse.

“Uh…yeah.” He pathetically responds.

Keeley doesn’t seem to catch his hesitation, electing to be excited for him, and most likely relieved, “Jamie that's great! Who is it? Is it anyone I know? How long have you been seeing them?”

Jamie’s head swirls with her various questions, mixed with his previous thoughts of you and your brief conversation about relationships. 

“Um, it's no one you know personally,” he decides to answer very slowly and carefully, “Its new. Really new. And we both want to keep it private.”

Keeley rolls her eyes playfully, nudging his shoulder, “Come on, you can tell me.”

Jamie manages a half smile, “If it goes anywhere, I promise you’ll be one of the first to know.”

“Alright, I’ll take that,” Keeley gives him a satisfied smile, “I’m happy for you, Jamie.”

That makes one of them. What had he gotten himself into?

Even though it's only been one week and you’ve shot approximately 3 scenes, you were killing this rom-com if you do say so yourself. You were getting along swimmingly with the cast and crew, especially your co-lead Charlie. He was just as charming as he was the day you auditioned together, and just as sweet when you weren’t rolling. The friendship you were starting to build was nice and you had a feeling it would translate well on screen. Take that haters. 

It was now your second week of production; your first full week of actual filming. You were still working on the studio lot today, but soon you’d be on location and you couldn’t wait to see more of Richmond. After a busy morning, filled with exciting scenes, you were now headed to your trailer to have lunch. You were hoping Margot could grab you something from craft services while you changed out of your costume. However, when you arrive at your trailer, you find her already there and looking…anxious.

“Hey…?” you greet but it turns into a question as it drags out.

“Hi,” Margot responds, but doesn’t hide her unease, “So, we have a bit of a situation.”

Your eyebrows scrunch together, beyond curious to know what could possibly be going on. “What is it?”

“There’s this man who showed up to the studio asking for you, claiming he knows you. You know, normally we’d just get rid of them, but apparently he’s some famous athlete here and some execs thought it would be a bad look if we turned him away. His name is James or something…”

“Jamie?” you ask without thinking.

Margot’s eyebrows shoot up, “Oh, you do know him?”

You give a half shrug, “Sort of. We met when I was on my walk last week. He helped me hide from photographers.”

“Oh my God, why didn’t you tell me that?”

“I did tell you that!”

“You didn’t tell me the guy was famous.”

You roll your eyes, “I didn’t think it was a big deal, I meet famous people all the time.”

“Ones that show up randomly to your set?” Margot asks incredulously. “Have you kept in touch with him? Did you invite him here?”

“No. And no,” you’re once again brought back to the reality of what’s happening. Why was Jamie here? You were once again out of your mind curious. “Where is he now?”

“In one of the conference rooms,” Margot tells you, “Do you want to go see why he’s here?”

You didn’t just want to. You needed to. So with a bag of Cheez-Its in hand, you and Margot head for the studio.

When you arrive at the room where you’d previously done a table read the week before, Jamie turns around in a swivel chair at the head of the desk on the farthest side of the room like a super-villain. But then he gives you a wide grin, and your previous comparison no longer holds up.

“See, I told you she’d come!” Jamie exclaims to the security guard keeping him company. The man ignores him and gives you and Margot a look, and upon your signal he leaves the room.

“Are you stalking me or something?” you ask in lieu of a greeting as you sit in the chair at the other end of the table. Margot plants herself behind you with her arms crossed.

Jamie smirks at you, “Don’t flatter yourself, love.” Then he frowns, “Wait, have you had a stalker before?”

You pause, “Not in the traditional sense.”

“Alright, I’m definitely going to ask you for that story later,” Jamie shakes his head, “But that’s not why I’m here.”

“Yeah, why are you here?” you question, ripping open your Cheez-Its as your only form of lunch, “And how did you get here?”

“Let’s just say I’m very persuasive,” he states, the smirk reappearing on his face. Then he looks Margot up and down, “Who’s this?”

You have to resist the urge to roll your eyes. Jamie was a lot more cocky outside of his little caf�� hideaway. “Margot. She’s my assistant. And she’s staying in here if that’s what you’re going to ask.”

“Does your assistant go everywhere you go?”

“She does when a strange man is following her boss around,” Margot answers for you.

Jamie nods once, “Fair enough.”

“Jamie,” you sigh, “Not that I’m not happy to see you, although I would have preferred not to be ambushed at my place of work after meeting you once, but can you please just tell me what you’re doing here before the rest of the set gets wind of a rogue soccer player lingering about.”

“First of all, you know that it’s called football over here,” Jamie tsks as he stands up, moving to take a seat closer to you. “Second of all, I’m here because I have a proposition for you. A business proposal of sorts.”

You quirk an eyebrow, “And that is?”

“You know that fake relationship your publicist wants to try out? I’d like to apply for the job.”

Your jaw drops a little, and you hear Margot let out a tiny gasp from behind you, “You told him that?”

You don’t bother answering her, “Why, uh, why would you want to do that?”

Jamie’s bravado falters a little. He glances at Margot again, but decides he can still admit it in front of her, and you, “You know that girl I told you about? The one I still see all the time?” you nod, “Well, it’s getting progressively harder to be around her, especially when she’s always giving me these guilty looks. It drives me insane. And last night she made a comment about how I need to put myself out there and meet someone, and I just snapped. I figured if she thought I had met someone, she’d let it go and things could start to go back to normal.”

Your stomach lurches. You feel for him, you do. But this was just absurd. 

“And you didn’t think to, I don’t know, actually ask someone out? Or just find another random girl to pretend to date you? I thought Jamie Tartt had no problem finding girlfriends.”

His lips quirk up just a tad, “Ah, you remember that?”

This time you do roll your eyes, “Jamie.”

“Sorry, sorry. Okay, yeah, sure I could probably find someone else. But that wouldn’t work. My ex knows I’m not looking for flings anymore. And some other random girl isn’t going to be convincing. Fake dating you makes the most sense, because you’re already good at acting-”

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome - and this would benefit you too for all the reasons you told me the other day. It’s win-win,” When he sees the thoughtful yet hesitant look on your face, he continues, “Look, it’s not like I’m asking you to do this forever. You’re filming this movie for three months right? We play pretend while you’re here and get your publicist off your back. Then, we can fake break-up before you leave, and you won’t have to worry about bringing me home for Christmas. What do you say?”

You continue studying Jamie, and you can’t believe how serious he sounds about all of this. After a few moments, you also glance at Margot who, despite looking a bit apprehensive, also seems…intrigued by his offer. When she catches your eye, all she can manage is an unsure shrug. Fuck.

Finally turning back to Jamie, you take a deep breath, “I say…no.”

The hopeful look on Jamie’s face immediately falls. “What? Why?”

“I just…can’t. I don’t want to do it.”

“But…”

You shake your head, as you start to stand, “No, Jamie, I’m sorry. I understand how you feel. I really do. But I don’t want to do it. I told you the other day. I don’t want to,” As you brush past Margot and reach the doorway, you turn back to Jamie, “I’m sorry.”

All Jamie does is give you a tight smile and a nod before you take off down the hall towards your trailer. 

Margot is on your tail, and as you get ready to resume filming, you can tell she wants to ask about everything that just went down. But you just shake your head, and she gets the memo.

Unfortunately for you, your brain doesn’t get the memo, because Jamie’s offer is all you can think about the rest of the day. In between takes and set-ups, your mind wanders back to your conversation and the desperate look in his eyes when he describes his situation with his ex. It’s clear he’s hurting; both from her rejection, as well as the constant interaction with her and the man she chose instead of him. 

You think that’s what scared you; that Jamie was so invested in this pretend scheme. It made it intense; real even though the whole point of the idea was far from it. You didn’t like the risks a PR relationship posed - you never had - but doing it with someone like Jamie made the stakes even higher. If something went wrong, not only were you going to be hung out to dry in the tabloids, but Jamie would have to deal with the consequences of having his ex and their friends know that he had lied. And that wasn’t going to make their situation any better.

But there was something else holding you back. A fear you couldn’t place, one that makes your chest heavy.

Of course it was at times like these, when your thoughts were already spiraling, that you make the self-destructive decision to feed them by reading about yourself online. Most comments or tweets or articles were kind, but those did little to nothing to improve your mood, when one negative post did everything to destroy it. And on your commute home, you found yourself hyper-fixating on one particular tweet by a user pointing out your biggest insecurity at the moment.

The tweet was in response to an article about the movie you were filming. 

“A rom-com starring Y/N Y/L/N makes no sense when no one wants to date her irl”

It was the kind of thing Harry was talking about. While deep down you knew the sentiment was far from the truth, it didn’t mean people didn’t think that on account of your public persona. Nevermind that you preferred to keep things private; no public relationships meant you were an unlovable loser. And while a majority of people would argue against it, or just not give a shit about your dating life, it still stung.

So, without much thought, you told your driver not to take you home, but instead to a local café for a late night pick-me-up. And you could only hope, some company. 

Jamie knew his plan was a stupid idea. He knew as soon as he lied to Keeley about seeing someone that it was going to bite him in the ass. But he couldn’t help but get his hopes up that maybe this would give him the out he’s been looking for around Keeley and Roy; an escape from the sympathy and third-wheeling. At least long enough for them to stop feeling like their relationship was an inconvenience to him.

Of course, deciding to fake-date a famous actress was a long shot in and of itself, but you had brought it up first. And a part of him thought you really hit off that day at the café. 

Which is how he ended up right back at the same place. He’d unconsciously walked himself here after training and had been wallowing over cups of tea ever since. 

He rather enjoyed people watching when he wound up sitting alone. Very interesting people wandered in and out of this café. He assumes they’re also the type of people that prefer keeping to themselves. He often made up stories about them in his mind to keep himself entertained or when he wanted to get his mind off of his own life. 

Today he was particularly interested in an older man perched at a table facing the window. He’d been there just about as long as Jamie had, working through a word-search book. He appears to be nearing the end of the book, and Jamie decides he has grandchildren - five of them to be exact - that buy him a new word search book for every birthday and Christmas. He also decides that he and late-wife were regulars at this café, and even though she isn’t around anymore, he still comes here every week in honor of her memory. 

Jamie’s almost made himself emotional over his made-up story for this stranger, when the bell above the door rings. Ah, hopefully someone he can come up with a less depressing story for. However, he realizes he already knows a thing or two about the new customer that has entered the room.

It’s you.

He has to force himself not to look shocked by your presence, as you scan the room, eyeing each patron one by one. When your eyes finally land on him, you seem to be relieved to see him. Jamie quickly becomes hyper-aware of the fact that he’s sitting in the same spot the two of you had occupied when you were here last week, and he hopes you don’t dwell on it.

You walk further into the café, but instead of immediately going over to him, you approach the barista. After a few minutes, you slowly head over to Jamie and hesitantly place a to-go cup and blueberry scone onto the table.

“You must’ve really liked their scones to come all the way back here,” Jamie comments after a beat. 

You push the scone closer to him, “I actually got it for you.”

Jamie’s taken aback, “Oh. Thanks.” After a couple of seconds, he adds, “Do you want to sit?”

You nod, pulling out the chair across from him. He is once again overwhelmed that he’s casually speaking to you, even though it's the third time he’s done it and he was particularly over-confident the last time. 

“I actually came here to see you,” you admit eventually. 

Though he’d expected that, it still felt weird to hear. “Oh?”

You nod again, “I wanted to apologize for earlier.”

“You want to apologize?” Jamie can’t help but ask bewilderedly, “I’m the one who ambushed you with a dumb idea.”

You bite your lip, “...It wasn’t that dumb.” Jamie’s eyes widen just slightly so you quickly continue, “I’m sorry that I shut you down so quickly. I think the idea of actually doing it freaked me out.”

“Can I ask why?”

You’re unsure if you have a clear enough answer to give him since it wasn’t so clear yourself all the reasons it scared you, “I think it felt like there was a lot weighing on it, with how badly you wanted it to work out. It also kind of feels like giving into the whole idea means validating the people online complaining about me, you know?”

Jamie nods slowly, “Yeah, that makes sense. I guess it’s sort of similar in my situation.”

“Yeah. And I know eventually we'll prove them wrong. Like when you’re ready to move on or next year when this movie comes out and they see how amazing I am in it.” 

Jamie chuckles lightly. “No, yeah. You’re right.”

“But I don’t want to wait,” you say defiantly, surprising Jamie again, “I’m tired of hearing about why I'm not good enough to be in a relationship, even one in a fucking movie, and if that means pretending to be in one in real life for a little while, I’ll do it.”

“Wait, really, you changed your mind?” Jamie asks, sitting up straighter than he’s ever been.

“Yeah, fuck it, I’ve got nothing to lose,” you shrug, “And like you said, I’m a good actor.”

“Hell yeah,” Jamie smiles for a brief moment, before it drops, “Wait, are you going to do it with someone else, or were you still talking about doing it with me?”

You give him an amused smile, “I was talking about you.”

“Okay, good. I got worried there for a second.”

You chuckle, “Honestly, it works out really well. Dating a soccer player from overseas that I met while filming here seems a lot more plausible than some other A-List actor I’ve never met out of the blue.”

“Okay you’re really going to have to work on calling it football, that’s a real deal breaker for me.” Jamie corrects, but there’s still a smile on his face.

“Got it. Well we can work through a list of demands later, but for now I should probably get home. My driver is waiting outside and I have a call-time at the crack of dawn.”

As you push out of your chair to stand up, Jamie remembers something, “You’re filming around Richmond starting this week right? My teammates saw trailers being set up near a pub we go to a lot.”

You nod, “Yeah we actually start filming around town in a couple days. Maybe I can pop in one day after work and say hi to my fake-boyfriend’s friends.”

Despite the word fake, Jamie finds his cheeks warming up, “They would shit themselves.”

You giggle, “That makes it more fun.” Reaching into your pocket, you slide your phone across the table, “Put your number in so we can talk strategy soon.”

Jamie nods and eagerly does so. “I’ll see you soon, yeah?”

“Yeah,” you smile, “Good night, Jamie.”

He watches you exit the café with a smile on his face, feeling giddy all of a sudden. Not just at the idea of stopping Keeley and Roy’s guilt train, but getting to know you better. 

You were right. This was going to be fun.

Taglist: @respondingtoshowerthoughts-blog​ @royalestrellas​ @loveslide​ @torpedo--belly​ @skewedcherries​ @littlemisssunshine192​ @hopefulromances​ @breakmyheartlater​ @ohpuckyeah​ @alipap3​ @meg-ro​ @rexorangecouny​ @pythagothug​ @gcidrvsh @lightninginab0ttle it wouldn’t let me tag the last couple of you, but i will keep trying <3

[misscherrys-world]

Welcome back to:

Random things I think about.

Starring: The fourth prince of Kakin empire, Tserriednich Hui Guo Rou.

Warnings : Tserriednich.

Yes that’s it he’s the warning.

Okay just kidding… but he’s a warning himself.

Warnings: nsfw, spoilers from the manga obviously, abusing behavior, spitting, rape mentioning. If there’s something I missed inform me about it plz.

This one took longer than I thought to have the courage to say my random thoughts about that man. Turned out he’s complicated.

First let’s talk about his amazing muscular body. He’d crash me with just one hand effortlessly.

Sometimes I hope Togashi would let Hisoka and Tserried meet and fight. I’d die from excitement.

Poor Theta, I’m genuinely worried about her fate. I think she’ll help Kurapika get closer to the Prince so they can kill him.

Also poor Pika, I’m worried what will happen to him when he sees Pairo’s head..

That man is worse than the five threats. I hope he’ll stay alive until they reach the dark continent so they let him die alone and painfully there.

By surprise he has friends? Like how did they tolerate his ass talk about male philosophers? Boring hypocrites.

So I ended my trash talk about him. Let’s start my random things I think about.

I think he does have skin care and hair care routine like Patrick Bateman from American Psycho.

They look too much alike. The hair, the face, the body, the bloodlust.

I think he takes interest in music too. Not any genre of music. Classical music to be precise, his favorite musician is Mozart. Typical

He doesn’t like dogs. He thinks they are too clingy, useless and stinky. I bet a dog bit him when he was a kid.

Doesn’t like kids. Annoying, useless and stupid. Yeah Unma dropped you on your head for sure.

He gets grossed out when someone talks about women’s menstrual cycle.

He gets the ick when he smells certain feminine perfumes like “La vie est belle and Scandal” so typical every damn woman smells like these two.

His favorite perfume is Versace Eros eau de parfum.

His favorite feminine perfume is YSL Libre eau de parfum Intense.

He owns a big collection of hand watches.

Despite his “hobby” he wouldn’t practice it on someone related to him. Friend, family, mistress..

Speaking of his mistress. It would be very difficult to satisfy him. His lover should have certain qualifications that go along with the image he painted himself to deceive people, and of course his lover herself.

He’s homophobic. But he secretly takes liking in men more than women. I don’t make the rules.

Doesn’t mean he’s not into women.

His s/o must be a woman. Royal reasons obv.

When it comes to sex he is selfish.

Fucks you like an animal in heat, and insults your entire family line while fucking you.

He’s abusive. If you did or say something that isn’t acceptable to his taste expect a slap on your face when you’re alone with him. He would spit on you too.

You can’t get away from him, you’re trapped.

He will remind you how lucky you are, nobody gets the privileges you have or the insane amount of spending you spend everyday, all thanks to him.

He’s generous enough to let you do shopping and get all these clothes and makeup without asking what do you spend all these money on.

But he will not tolerate ignorance and misbehaved brats like you.

Of course you finally knew exactly who you are in a relationship with.

He doesn’t mind raping you, he sees you as one of his belongings he has the right to do anything he wants with you. Your opinion doesn’t matter.

Sometimes he gets a soft spot for you, after a “silly argument” and another abusive episode he will catch you crying where no one can see you, he will hug you and pat your head while saying he’s sorry.

After you’re finished crying he’ll give you a soft kiss on your lips, and says he won’t hit you again.

Of course he’ll do it again. Sometimes he’ll threaten you with a gun or a knife. It gets worse by time.

Tell me what do you think and send me your headcanons too. 🤍🎀

[queenshelby]

Our Little Secret (Part 28)

Pairing: Cillian Murphy x Reader

Warning: Infidelity, Age-Gap, Birth, Complications, Infertility

Note: This is just a little gap-filler.

Days quickly passed and, whilst you had to stay in hospital a little longer with Baby Mara, your wellbeing improved rather quickly.

While you were recovering, Cillian took care of everything, including finding a wonderful midwife who would continue to help you recover at home with proper postpartum care.

Cillian also made sure that the house was prepared for your arrival. He stocked up the fridge and transformed your bedroom into a cozy sanctuary, complete with a changing table, rocking chair, and dresser stocked with diapers, wipes, and creams.

He knew that, for at least a week or two, you needed some more rest and recovery, especially with a newborn to tend to and Cillian offered to stay with you and Mara a little longer. 

You accepted his offer and when you finally brought your baby girl home, Cillian was there to assist you, changing her diapers and bathing her.

He also cooked meals for you, even though he admitted that he hated cooking, he managed to pull off some delicious dishes, making sure that you ate properly to replenish your strength after your traumatic experience.

He even helped you sleep by staying at your house at night and taking turns feeding Mara, soothing her cries, until, after about day five, she wouldn't relent anymore and refused to take her bottle.

Having a bottle was not for her that night and, no matter how hard Cillian tried, she just wouldn't accept it. He would try to console her, rocking her gently in his arms, humming a soothing tune, but nothing seemed to work.

It was 3 o'clock in the morning, and neither of you had slept much, except for the brief catnaps stolen during the periods when Mara finally fell asleep.

"I am sorry, Y/N," he peaked through the door of your bedroom, holding his crying infant in his arm. "I can't settle her. She won't take the bottle," Cillian said, his voice laced with frustration and fatigue as he paced the room, trying to soothe the baby with an endearing rock-and-pat motion. "I've tried singing the same song you sing to her, but she keeps crying," he admitted, his gaze flickering between you and the wailing infant nestled in his arms.

You yawned tirelessly before turning on the bedside table lamp , illuminating the room with a soft glow. "Let me try," you whispered as you reached for your nursing pillow, feeling the remnants of sleep lift from your weary body.

Cillian then approached you with your crying infant and you gingerly reached out to take Mara from his arms, wincing slightly as the baby squirmed and cried louder. "Shh, shh," you murmured soothingly, cradling her close to your chest and swaying gently in place. "It's okay, baby girl," you cooed, pressing your cheek against hers as you nuzzled her gently.

"Mommy's here," you reassured her, inhaling deeply, basking in the intoxicating scent of her soft skin before lifting up your singlet top and exposing your breast.

"Lets try this," you whispered encouragingly, positioning her face against your chest, your heart pounding rapidly in your chest as you awaited her reaction.

To your surprise, she immediately latched onto your nipple while Cillian's eyes widened. 

"Your breasts have gotten so big," he blurted out nervously, his gaze flickering between you and Mara as you nursed your baby contentedly. His cheeks reddened, causing you to chuckle softly, breaking the tension.

"Wow, Cillian," you chuckled. "Really?" you shook your head. 

"Sorry, I didn't mean to stare," he mumbled in embarrassment, averting his gaze, as you shifted Mara to your other breast while watching him intently.

"It's okay," you laughed, watching him yawn before almost collapsing on the edge of the bed, right by your side.

You could sense that he was tired and this wasn't exactly surprising to you. After all, he was a fair bit older than you and he had spent day and night looking after you and Mara while, in between, giving some interviews and the like for the promotion of his movie. 

This made for an exhausting schedule and he needed to rest, desperately. But seeing him there, looking so utterly tired, yet still being attentive to your needs and those of the baby, made you fall in awe with him even more these days.

Lately, he was such a gentleman, a wonderful man and the father of your child. That realization hit you like a ton of bricks and suddenly, your tiredness disappeared.

You turned your attention to Cillian who tried desperately to stay awake. Leaning over him, kissing his forehead, and whispering softly in his ear: "I got this for a while, Cillian. Go ahead and rest. I'll be fine," you whispered softly, your fingers lightly grazing Cillian's forehead, watching him visibly relax in response. The exhaustion on his face was apparent, and you felt a rush of gratitude for his unwavering commitment to you and Mara.

"Hmm," Cillian muttered groggily, his voice muffled against your pillow. "Just give me a few minutes," he pleaded as you watched him struggle to remain conscious, his eyelids fluttering open and shut like tiny butterflies caught in a sudden gust of wind.

"Go to sleep, Cillian," you murmured, patting his hand gently before focusing your full attention on Mara.

The baby suckled softly, her tiny body squirming comfortably against yours. Her hunger satisfied, she soon drifted off to sleep too, her soft snores filling the air.

You sat there, breastfeeding your baby girl, watching her fall asleep peacefully. A wave of relief washed over you. Finally, after days of relentless worry and stress, things were starting to settle down. You felt overwhelmed with gratitude for everyone who had supported you - your friends, Cillian's sister Siobhan, and especially Cillian. Without him, you didn't know how you would have coped through this challenging period.

Carefully then, you placed Mara into the basinet near your bed, swaddling her  snugly, making sure she was safe and sound. Once she was secure, you decided to lie down on the bed beside Cillian, who was already dozing off, a small smile on his lips.

Your body ached, but you were incredibly grateful that your daughter was healthy and thriving. Even though your situation with your mother was less than ideal, you were immensely thankful for the support of Cillian and felt as though your bond was growing stronger.

Even Max came to visit you and his little sister now which was a little odd but also exciting. Cillian made an effort to involve him into everything and he seemed to care a lot for Mara, even though his mother kept pointing out to him that Mara was not, in fact, his sister.

You secretly hoped that Max would become a positive influence on Mara, fostering love and acceptance in her life and that, maybe one day, Cillian would realize that he had feelings for you just as you have feelings for him.

Although you couldn't deny the chemistry between you, you had both chosen to suppress any romantic notions due to your complicated relationship with each other. But you were confident that one day, you would overcome your fears and embrace your budding romance.

To be continued...

Tags:

@sunbeamseas @saint-ackerman @oatmealisweird @naxxsstuff @amanda08319 @r-m-cidnah @elysiannook @cillshot @infireddabdab @tastycakee @harrysbestiee @lilybabe22 @adalynlowell @henrywintersdearestgirl @ietss @thatgirlthatreadswattpad @ryiamarie @axionn

@heidimoreton @nela-cutie @futurecorps3 @delishen @nosebleeds-247 @thirteenis-myluckynumber @gills-lounge @hjmalmed @lost-fantasy @tiredkitten @sidechrisporn @smallsoulunknown @charqing-qing @hopefulinlove @aporiasposts @shycrybaby @me-and-your-husband @hjmalmed @lacontroller1991 @galxydefender @aporiasposts

@galxydefender @hunnibearrr @saint-ackerman @lunyyx @gentlemonsterjennie1 @ihavealotoffandomssorry @nadloves @lost-fantasy @nolucesn@mcavoy-girl @hjmalmed @bloodybagels @obeyme4life @richiesgroupie @blushykiss @tatumrileyslover @teawithsatanx @orijanko @rhaenyra4ever @xcinnamonmalfoyx @budugu @nadloves @kmc1989 @bloodybagels @obeyme4life @richiesgroupie @forgottenpeakywriter @smailaway @sophiaaguirred

[p1hypen]

5:10 PM — S. JAEYUN

ft. nonidol!jake x gn!reader genre! one-shot fluff

it’s a lazy saturday afternoon. the sun is out though it contrasts with the low 20 degree weather outside. jake left the apartment about two and a half hours ago to meet up with some friends from high school amidst their trip to korea.

within those two hours you managed to boil milk for a steaming cup of hot chocolate; topped with small marshmallows, and searched the storage closet for christmas decorations to set up around the flat. it was an unspoken tradition for you and jake to assemble the tree together on the first of december, so you decided to wait for him to come back after he had his fun with his buddies.

in the meantime, you strung up some lights, hung a reef outside your front door, and topped each possible surface with christmas figurines or stuffed plushies. when that was finished, you climbed onto the couch with a large blanket to cover the bottom half of your torso and an unfinished book to occupy your thoughts.

five pages into your reading you hear the lock of the front door being tampered with from the other side. it’s about time your lover came home, you were starting to miss him even if only 3 hours had elapsed. jake finally pushes open the door with an exhausted sigh and kicks his shoes off while immediately stripping out of the padded jacket that swallows his entire frame. his face lights up when he notices your figure in the living room cozied up and looking effortlessly adorable.

the brunette makes a beeline towards your direction and is quick to press a chaste kiss to your temple. “sorry it took so long with the guys.” he sighs.

you lean into his touch and place the paperback covered book aside to give your boyfriend your full attention. “not a problem at all, jakey” your nimble fingers pat the empty space next to you as an invite for your boyfriend to join you under the blanket. jake accepts your implicit invitation and does his best to snuggle close to your side. “how was it?”

he hums to himself in thought, finding the words to describe his recent outing with friends he’s still in contact with to this day. “it was fun— a lot of it was just catching up with each other and eating. we played some soccer but not for long because it was way too cold.”

“i bet, it’s like 23 degrees right now, babe.” you pout, feeling sympathetic knowing how much your boyfriend loathes the bitter cold.

“that’s what i was saying! everyone seemed fine like it was normal to be playing soccer in this weather.” jake’s eyebrows furrow and you laugh softly at his disturbed expression.

“at least you’re here now, all comfy and warm.”

jake nods and pecks your lips with a faint smile. “can we cuddle? i need more of your body warmth…”

you comply to his needs and the two of you shuffle against the couch to make yourselves comfortable. jake lays on his side and you mirror his actions now face-to-face with the handsome boy you get to call ‘mine.’ the taller tangles his legs with yours, cooing at how warm and comfortable it feels to finally be under the blanket with you. he kisses the crown of your head, running his frosty fingers through your hair before rubbing circles on the small of your back. everything about this was affectionately tooth-rotting and domestic in the best way possible; you’re more than grateful that it’s jake who you get to share these moments with.

you crane your neck to peck at his lips and curl in closer to jake’s frame. little to no space separates your bodies, just the way he likes it when the two of you cuddle with each other.

about an hour passes when you realize that you’ve fallen asleep on the couch. you blink to adjust for the grogginess. it’s nearly dark out now that the apartment is no longer lit of the natural lighting from the sun, meaning nightfall will soon occur within several minutes notice.

cautiously you sit up to reach for your phone on the coffee table to check the time. 5:10 PM. you rub away the sleep from your eyes as a yawn escapes your system. as much as you would like to resume your nap, dinner doesn’t cook itself and you’re still not sure what tonight’s menu will be. you may even need to go out to buy ingredients.

your thoughts are interrupted when a husky voice calls your name from where they lay. “y/n?”

“i’m here, ikeu.” you pet his hair. said nickname stirs around and lazily looks at you with one eye open.

“come back, it’s cold…” he mumbles. half of his face squished into the pillow. his disheveled hair fairly tamed.

“i have to cook dinner and i’m still not sure what i should make.” you explain.

“you already did so much today. don’t think i haven’t noticed the christmas decorations,” you blush at the comment. jake has always been observant even if he doesn’t vocally portray it. “we’ll order takeout, my treat, hm?”

takeout doesn’t sound too bad actually.

“fine, we can do that.”

jake pulls on your arm and holds you close against his chest, the action almost throwing you off. he tugs the blanket over your shoulders and lazily kisses at your lips with sleep still evident in his current state. “i love you.”

you return the kiss with droopy eyes. “i love you most.”

[orangez3st]

Dream Currents

Captain Rex × OFC Force Goddess

— Chapter 15: Image

Tags: teen & up, f/m, gen, hurt/comfort, childhood friends, romantic friendship, fluff, pre-star wars: the clone wars, clone cadets (training in kamino), very rex-centric, rex whump, the worst is probably sw curse words (tell me if I should add more tags!)

My masterlist is up!

[Content] [Start] [Prev] [Next] [AO3] [Spotify]

“Interesting start,” Wolffe comments over his shoulder.

Six-Seven flinches, his pencil falls out of his grasp and clutters onto the durasteel floor.

“Don’t flinch next time,” Wolffe smirks.

“I wouldn’t. Wasn’t expecting anyone peeking,” Six-Seven grumbles while picking up his pencil.

Wolffe averts his gaze, still amused. He turns around and leans back against the back of the couch anyway. “If you’re doing something private, vod’ika, then perhaps consider turning your back to the wall,” he says, glancing back to see the blond cadet back at it again.

“Oohh,” Gree wiggles his eyebrows from the top of his bunk across the common room, “what’s the vod’ika doing?”

“Nana,” Six-Seven mumbles.

“Nana what?”

“Nana your business!”

Fox and his batchmates, hanging around somewhere, can be heard snickering.

Gree chortles, pointing his finger at Wolffe. “He really grows around you lot!”

Wolffe shakes his head. The son of a droid can’t even restrain his own wolfish grin either. He turns fully to the younger cadet, palms clasping the back of the couch, watching him grazing his pencil softly against the piece of flimsi in his lap for a beat, before tapping his shoulder. “The suggestion stands. Wanna sit in my bunk?”

“’M'fine.”

“Come,” Wolffe taps Six-Seven’s shoulder again, and leans over to whisper in his ear, “If you’re doing that thing seriously, you’re gonna need some privacy to focus.”

Six-Seven relents almost instantly, picking up his flimsi, pencil, and datapad he uses as an excuse for a table for the flimsi, and tails behind Wolffe with his eyes dead-on straight into the command clone’s back. Wolffe’s bunk, the bottom one under another cadet Six-Seven forgets the designation number of, is situated near the corner of the command batch barracks.

Six-Seven is a frequent guest himself, almost always quite literally gets dragged in by Two-Four himself who tells him he belongs here too. During his daily downtime under Two-Four’s insistence, Six-Seven finds himself tucked in the corner of the common room’s couch, in Two-Four’s bunk reading, or slipping himself some quiet, respectful chatter with some of the batch. Mostly Wolffe, if not Two-Four. Fox always finds himself sneaking into the conversation as well, an excuse to eventually swat Wolffe in the head, get an annoyed hand shoved in his face, and flee back to his awaiting and snickering batchmates with a quite rude finger gesture pointed at Wolffe. Five-Two is somewhere, just as Two-Four is somewhere, letting and expecting Six-Seven to mingle himself.

Well, Six-Seven feels he’s doing okay with that. No more awkwardness. No longer stiff as a plank when he’s surrounded by his far more superior vode, just free-falling into relaxed ease – and sometimes outright jokes as previously. They’re nice, and they don’t look at his mutated blond hair weirdly. In fact some of them may be slightly jealous, the feeling hidden behind warm, friendly grins. He’s famous, if one can put it that way. A mutated blond cadet whose combat capabilities match their likes? Hard to miss, just as hard not to respect him. He becomes their impromptu asset. And they look ready to jump at any moment’s notice to ask how he’s been doing, and he appreciates all their concerns. It’s nice to be looked at.

“Here,” Wolffe lifts his pillow and pats the spot for Six-Seven to sit. The younger cadet walks around the bed, and accepts the invitation, leaning back against the blank wall. He sighs in relief and comfort – apparently that’s enough privacy he needs. The bed shifts as Wolffe joins him, but his legs remains off the edge of his own bed – a sign he won’t intrude as much, while Six-Seven’s are propped up, flimsi and datapad pressed against his thighs as he rebuilds his focus.

“That supposed to be Sho’cye?’ Wolffe suddenly asks, peering into focus as well at Six-Seven’s soft sketch. The younger cadet tilts the flimsi in Wolffe’s direction, allowing the ori’vod to take a full look at his recent sketching endeavor.

“Yeah,” Six-Seven’s voice is somewhat sheepish, but he trudges through. “Not as good as yours, I know. Not really into sketching.”

Wolffe smirks in acknowledgment, growing fondly appreciative of the explorative attempt. “What’d you have in mind?” he asks then, “How you’re drawing her, I mean.”

At this, Wolffe notices a twinkle in the younger cadet’s eyes that makes him just slightly younger. Strange.

“Just had this one dream,” Six-Seven starts, his gaze distant in recall, “She reveals her true form to me. Kinda.” He shrugs. “Trying to, uh, picture her. And maybe do a drawing?”

“A good decision,” says Wolffe.

Six-Seven stares at his unfinished sketch. “Tryna picture her as a silhouette of the ocean,” he mutters, “Flowing hair. Sea currents. The absolute depiction of a Force deity.”

“Force deity?” Wolffe raises a single eyebrow. “She told you that?”

“She did.”

Strange, again. The dreams Six-Seven gets don’t sound similar to his or others. Maybe his dream differs. But why him? Before Wolffe could swim to deep into deduction, he brings himself back to the present. “You’re doing a pretty good job there,” Wolffe praises, tracing the lining with his eyes, already immaculately working on some part that can be improved. “Want me to help?”

Six-Seven seems thinking for a while, before lightly shrugging. “Yeah, sure,” he says, passing the flimsi and pencil to Wolffe. “Can’t shade, after all. This needs hell of a shading.”

Wolffe chuckles. “If we’re gonna follow your ‘silhouette of the ocean’ prompt, then yeah. Hell of a shading,” he eases back, already tracing on the flimsi. Wolffe goes silent for a while, Six-Seven occasionally glancing from his datapad to the sketching process, fully intending not to interrupt the artist. It’s until he considers the tracing along the body done, and he moves on to the unfinished hands. “How’d you wanna do the hands?” Wolffe asks.

“Like, this?” Six-Seven lifts his palm, fingers slightly outstretched in a graceful pose. “Then there’s a ball of light floating above her palm.”

Wolffe hums, twisting the pencil between his thumb and forefinger. “Nice. Now hold that still.”

It goes for much more minutes, until Six-Seven peers in and gapes at the so much detail his ori’vod put into the sketch. Wolffe occasionally glances at his brother’s modeling hand, the pencil moves so carefully and intricately on different widths to balance the proportion. It strikes him as a wonder how Wolffe can draw a woman’s hand. Must be lots of practice. But drawing a woman’s hand based on a male hand model? Must be difficult. Six-Seven wonders how much of the command batch has fallen victim to being Wolffe’s sketch model.

“You two… talk often?”

“Sort of,” Six-Seven answers. He nods towards Wolffe, “You?”

“Never talk. Just staring into each other. It’s a dream, after all. Beyond our control.” Wolffe shifts, cracking his back before continuing on his sketch. “Sometimes she passes reassurance. Comforting words.”

“Yeah, me too,” replies Six-Seven, his mind wandering to Sho’cye again. “She’s just... something else.”

Wolffe’s attention flits swiftly at Six-Seven almost in alarm. The younger one doesn’t notice as he mulls to himself, so Wolffe averts back to his sketch before Six-Seven does. “Can’t disagree,” Wolffe mumbles, his pencil now goes to tracing the wavy water currents that surround the goddess.

“She’s a harbinger of change. Luminous. Light in the dark. Remember how she really stands out? In the middle of a storm?”

Wolffe scoffs. “I see Two-Four’s romanticism on poetry finally got into that head of yours.”

Even without looking up, Wolffe can practically hear the shrug of dismissal from Six-Seven. “Just stating what I feel,” says the younger of both.

“Yeah. That is poetry, vod’ika,” Wolffe chuckles, but behind his smile, his interrogative measures begin to take place. “Anything else you and Sho’cye discuss about?”

“Not much. Just glimpses and, and just really nice sleep.”

Wolffe hides his smirk behind the flimsi. He caught on. Good.

They do their own thing for another moment in the loudness of the command batch barracks. Nearing the curfew though, with Six-Seven waiting patiently on wordless promise that Wolffe would finish that Sho’cye sketch before then, the moment finally comes. Wolffe passes the piece of flimsi back to the younger cadet. “Here. How’s that meeting your expectations?”

Save to say, Six-Seven is awestruck.

“You, uh, took form?” he had asked that one time.

Sho’cye had looked at him in fondness with a twinkle in her sea green eyes. “I usually don’t,” she had begun to elaborate, countenance softly shifting to simplify her concept, “I merely exist in the ocean. When I decide to take form, I let myself be seen. Be visible. Tangible. By the living beings.”

“I don’t understand,” Six-Seven had mumbled, “Tangible, how? What did you look like when you fought Protas? Can’t we see you when you don’t take any form?”

“The ocean is me, and I am the ocean,” Sho’cye had said to him instead with her luminous smile, “I mingle with it. I breathe with it. I am one with it. I am the primordial ocean, and I am the personification of the ocean. Throughout the galaxy. On every planet. In any natural body of water, lies my power – and there, I rule. There, I am ever present, because I am the water.”

Six-Seven had decided to be creative with all that available information.

In the sketch, Wolffe had perfected the silhouette of the ocean. Sho’cye had a translucent body, mingling with the water all around her. Her dark hair, shaded and highlighted delicately by Wolffe, looks alive and flowing with the currents that surround her. There’s a ray of light from the heavens shining atop the crown of her head, the rough traces of lines have been softened making her look luminous, as are her eyes. Instead of their usual sea green, Six-Seven had opted for the divinity of white hot cosmic blankness instead. One hand to her chest, and another facing upwards with a ball of bright, bright light. A picture of holiness. An image of absolute divinity – of beauty, ire, and might. Guardian. Saint-like. Goddess.

“Oh. Oh wow. It’s, uhm. Definitely exceeded my expectations, Wolffe,” breathes Six-Seven, shaking himself from the trance and back to reality – that it’s mostly Wolffe’s work to perfect it. “I’ll get you a copy of this. Let me keep the copy and you the original. Add to your sketch collection.”

Wolffe smirks, handing the pencil back and brushing himself off to stand. “Nah, vod, keep it.”

“But… it’s your sketch!”

“It’s your idea. I’m just the hand. Besides, you started it,” insists Wolffe. He walks around the bed, and taps his forehead against Six-Seven’s. “Keep it, vod. I mean it.”

At the gesture, Six-Seven smiles in earnest. “Thanks,” he manages to say before Wolffe walks away too far, and receives a lazy salute as a response.

[Content] [Start] [Prev] [Next] [AO3] [Spotify]

Word Count: 1,808

These are some Picrew I put together to get an image on what Coastline!Sho'cye may have physically looked like 😀

[riveranova]

(A/N): Because CHRONOS might take a little longer I come bearing this gift as an apology, hehe. Some go' ol' Licht smut!

Riding Lessons - Licht Klein x Fem! Reader

Warnings: Smut | minors DNI, riding (obviously lmao), mentions of bruises

Character: Licht Klein, Ikemen Prince

Word count: 1.540

"I'm telling you; he hates me!"

''You just don't try hard enough''

,,I beg your pardon?!''

"He can feel it"

,,Licht! Why aren’t you on my side here?!''

You have been practicing riding with Licht since the early hours of the morning. You've been wanting to try it for a while but didn't want to bother Licht because he already had enough work to do as is. However, one day when he saw you practicing (and failing) alone with a rather wild mare, he forced you to practice with him, so he could watch over you.

Licht found a stallion who was generally quite calm and saddled him up for you. However, after you mastered mounting up, the disaster began. The otherwise calm animal didn't seem to like the idea of you on his back at all and tried to get you off him in every way possible.

Luckily there was Licht, who usually caught you immediately.

"I'm not on his side," he defended himself as he picked you up off the ground and took the horse's reins. "you're just too nervous for him".

Grumbling, you stood up and brushed the sand from the training ground off your new breeches. ,,Oh I’m sorry. I'll try to fall off his back calmly. That surely makes it easier'' you sighed and grabbed the reins. Licht smiled softly and patted your head, "Don't give up. Come on, I'll help you up again''.

It was getting late when Licht and you went into the stable together to clean the horse and put him in his box. You managed to stay on the horse’s back for an entire five minutes. After that, the animal probably got bored and threw you to the ground, only to trot out to Licht and stood behind him – looking awfully smug.

Licht insisted that you rested while he combed the horse's brown mane and coat. It wasn't until you sat down on the wooden box next to the two that you realized how much your limbs hurt. You whimpered softly as you pressed on one of your fresh bruises. Licht looked over his shoulder "You went through a lot today, huh?" he gently brushed some hair off your face and cupped your chin in his hand. He slowly turned it towards him to kiss you on the forehead. "Wait, I'll take you to my room. Then I'll take care of you'' with a last little smile, he turned back to the animal and led it into one of the empty boxes. Your cheeks felt like they were on fire. Licht had always been a bit reserved - only recently, since the two of you were a couple, did he start opening up to you. Small gestures like kissing your forehead or random headpats were becoming the norm now, but they would always be special to you.

A little later, Licht closed the stable doors and, without warning, lifted you into his arms. "I can walk, it's fine-!" came your protest, Licht looked down at you "I know". With a sigh you accepted your fate and Licht carried you into his room.

Once there, he sat you down on his small sofa and opened a drawer. He glanced at you when he noticed you were staring at him, ‘’Get undressed’’. You blinked at him, and Licht sighed, "How else am I supposed to put lotion on your scratches?" Slowly you came out of your stupor and started to laugh a little ,,Hahaha... haha, right! That makes sense! Haha…''. Licht turned back to his closet, a grin on his face "You weren't thinking of anything else, were you?" He closed the drawer and came back with a small bag. You slowly began to undo the buttons of your jacket, while Licht's gaze did not leave your body. "You... could wear pants more often," he murmured. Your eyes shot to his. A light, rosy tone made itself present on his cheeks and he cleared his throat, ,,...What?''. You pushed your jacket off your shoulders "I usually wear dresses or skirts...I think that suits a prince's girlfriend better than-" you couldn't finish your thought because Licht grabbed your arm and started putting cream on your bruises while grumbling, "What are you talking about? You can wear whatever you want. It's nobody's business what you wear.''. Smiling sightly you turned your head to the window ,,You're right... if you don't mind, then I'd like to wear some more often...!''. Licht cleared his throat ,,I said wear what you want. I… am all for it,” he mumbled the last part, putting the bag on the table and looked down at your legs. ,,Your pants. Take them off too''. With red cheeks you unbuttoned them, Licht's gaze was heavy on your thighs.

When your pants were lying next to the jacket on the armrest, Licht pulled one of your legs up onto his lap and started putting cream on it. "There aren’t as many on your legs as on your arms… '' he murmured and you gave a short laugh, ''Yeah, lucky me I fell on my face rather than my legs, huh?''. Licht looked up, his features unsure, "I didn't mean it like that...''. You giggled, pulled him towards you and gave him a kiss on the cheek. "I know, don't worry" you giggled as you wanted to lean back, but Licht's hands wrapped around your waist and with a jerk you were sitting on his lap. "L-Licht?" You stopped giggling, cheeks flushed and you turned slightly to face him. Burning red eyes looked down at you, something hungry in them. "I still have to take care of your thighs"' even his voice sounded a lot lower than before as he started treating your thighs. You notice that he was squeezing much harder than he had to - almost as if he was massaging hem. His touch alone made you feel heat between your thighs. Licht's breath was hot on your neck as he placed small kisses on it. "All day I see you running around in those pants... Do you know how hard it was not to drag you into the stables and fuck in the hayloft?" his voice was as low as a growl. You caught your breath as his fingers wandered higher and higher up your thighs. You clenched your thighs and turned on his lap, "Why didn't you say anything?" Licht blinked briefly and then laughed, ‘’So I could have just told you?'' Suddenly he stood up with you on his lap and sat down on his bed with you. "You're not very good with horses yet, but I know you're pretty good at riding other things." Your face grew hot - you were sure your face could rival a tomato. That statement was so unlike Licht, it certainly did something to you. It was clear what Licht was getting at and the longer you sat on his lap, the clearer your own arousal became.

Licht seemed to notice this as well, as he sat himself in the middle of his bed only to have you sit directly on his already hard cock, which was making itself  present in his pants. A shiver ran down your spine – partly because you were almost completely naked. Licht cocked his head to the side, "And? Are you ready for part two of your riding lessons?''.

Licht's hands were heavy on your thighs, the sounds of skin slapping against skin was all you could hear. With one hand in front of your mouth and your eyes half open, you rode him up and down in an uneven rhythm while Licht's hands made sure you stayed on your lap so that you didn't just tip over to the side. His eyes took in the sight of you, never leaving your body once. Except for a slight growl here and there, he hardly made any noise. He preferred to listen to your moans, which almost sounded like whining, because you were so full of lust that you couldn't manage to get out a moan.

One of Licht's hands left your thigh and wrapped around your waist lead you down onto his chest. The hand you held in front of your mouth left and clawed at the bed sheets next to Licht's chest. You buried your face between his neck and shoulder. Licht kept letting you set the pace, waiting for you to start moving again. You were both close to your climax when he started thrusting into you from below, making you emit a loud moan. He matched your rhythm and grabbed your ass with his still free hand while the other began massaging your thigh.

A little while later, you came with a long groan, giving Light enough time to pull out of you and come between your stomachs with a deep growl.

With shaking arms, you sat up and looked at him. His head was laying slightly sideways on his pillow and he looked at you with half-open eyes. He pulled you in to kiss you on the lips, only to pull away a little to whisper against them.

"Our riding lessons are really paying off, aren't they?"