#it’s actually been like two weeks and i’m fine now but the point still stands

[gregmarriage]

chronic pain can go die in a hole x

[halcyone-of-the-sea]

Ahhhh I've been waiting for your requests to open, I've been following you since your first Price fic and never had an idea to request until like 2 weeks ago 😫 so, I've been thinking, what about being in a relationship with Keegan but getting separated when ODIN hits the earth and not meeting again until about 5 years later? 👀 Love your writing, hope you have a great day 🩵 :)

For The Weak And Weary

PAIRING: Keegan P. Russ x F!Reader

SYNOPSIS: When ODIN struck you had thought he had died, sky alight with fire. It had taken years to accept it, much less live with it. But after Dallas falls, would you get a glimpse of your Lover's phantom again?

WORDCOUNT: 6.2k

WARNINGS: Angst, depressive thoughts, PTSD insinuations, gore, wounds, blood, death, canon-typical violence, (1) suggestive joke, alcohol, hallucinations, fluffy reunion, tears, verbal arguments, etc.

A/N: Just because I'm a sucker for sticking to the game timeline I made it ten years, lol. Enjoy, Anon! Very fun prompt.

*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*

You could never make sense of what Keegan went through in 2005 during Operation Sand Viper. It would be pointless to try and wrap your head around it from what little you knew. All that mattered was that when he came back on leave, something in his eyes was…damaged. Hell, he’d only been sixteen—the both of you had known each other since you were kids, you knew when something was wrong.

And this was entirely new to you.

He smiled less and snapped more; got spooked when you dropped something in his family's kitchen like a grenade had gone off. Maybe, you reasoned, he thought one actually had. 

But through it all, you could still see how much he cared about you. When you were old enough you’d both moved into a nice place in the suburbs and started a relationship—a life shared between the two of you. 

You knew he loved you from the way he’d grip you close at night and breathe into your scalp. How when you were sick from the take-out dinner he’d brought home, Keegan would hold back your hair and rub circles into your spine as you threw up. He never shied away from telling you how beautiful you were; prided himself on it. Keegan loved to show you off.

But there were times back then when you wondered if the same Keegan that had been so fulfilled to join Ghosts had died, and, in fact, a phantom was instead puppeting his skin. He was so quiet now.

If you’d known that the world was going to end on July 10th, 2017, you’d have never let him walk out that door angry. You would have grabbed his hand and pressed your lips to his, whispered affirmations into his flesh and sobbed at the cruelty of it all.

“I can’t keep pretending that you’re okay!” You yell, tears in your eyes, at the man standing tense in the kitchen doorway. Blank blue eyes stare lifelessly. “Keegan—this is killing you.” 

It was early morning by then, and the neighborhood was quiet. The house that the both of you had moved into years ago was littered with the remnants of a happy home. Pictures on the walls, dishes in the sink, and freshly baked bread on the counter. All you’d tried to do was give Keegan a hug, slipping your hands around his waist when you’d entered. 

He’d balked back, jerking to the side and nearly elbowed you in the gut before he saw your wide eyes and stopped himself. The way he’d looked at you…how could eyes be so dead?

“You need to talk to someone,” you put your foot down, shaking your head. “I-I don’t know a therapist or…or someone who can get you proper help because I can’t keep acting like I can live like this.” 

Every mission, every time he went away, it always got worse. 

Keegan’s eyes get sharp, hands at his sides clenching. He speaks in a low growl. “I don’t need to talk to a shrink, alright? I’m fine, you just startled me.”

“Bullshit,” your mouth hisses, glaring. “You thought you were back in ‘05.”

The man points at you, strong jaw clenching, “Don’t.”

“Keegan,” you plead, “please, I love you! I don’t care about this, I just want you to be alright. To be able to live your life—”

“What you want is to try and change me!” The black-haired man barks. Your eyes blink in shock. Keegan rarely yelled. “I already told you I was fine, why don’t you get off my back all the time?” His eyes flash, pupils going to slits as his hands shake at his sides. Why did he look scared? Your breath stills, lips slightly open, with tears dripping to the tile. “Fuck, it’s like I can’t come home without you pesterin’ me ‘bout something!” 

A stiff silence falls.

“Kee—” He snaps a hand to his mouth and rubs at his stubble, suddenly unable to look at you.

“...Forget it.” It’s low and shaky how he says it, eyes wide, before he darts into the foyer and slips into his boots. You listen to the sounds of panicked shuffling before the man wrenches open the front door and slams it shut behind him. One of the picture frames falls and hits the ground with a shattering of glass.

You flinch and tense, taking down a terse breath and sniffling tightly. Trying to get your lungs to work properly, your feet take you over to the picture as they feel weak and uneven; a stuttering mess of steps before you bend down. Your fingers bleed as they shift the glass away, taking out the image of you and Keegan on your hike through the mountains. 

Smiling faces mock you, and you break at the bright and open affection Keegan wears as he looks down at you—eyebrows curved up and smirk like a knife to the chest. 

You loved him so much it hurt to breathe when he was away. 

He had needed time, you knew, but what you didn’t know was that time wouldn’t be available. Around noon the world had opened into a ball of fire and death. 27 million dead. Los Angeles, San Diego, Phoenix, Houston, and Miami…all gone…at least, that was what everyone in Dallas was telling you. 

When Keegan had been away taking a walk to calm himself, you’d been home alone. The earth caved, the ground shook; houses burst like balloons. By the time you’d crawled from the rubble of your home, all you had was the picture and the clothes on your back. People were screaming—you were screaming. But you knew that you couldn’t stay here if you wanted to survive. 

And then you’d made it to Dallas by sheer luck and the few tricks Keegan had taught you; had thought that he had died in that first strike by the Federation. You carried that guilt and self-hatred for not holding your tongue for a few more hours. 

So much could have been different in these ten years. Better. You never got over him for even a second. 

But the reality was that you couldn’t think about all of that now, because if you didn’t focus on holding your breath you would be dead in the next three seconds. 

Your hand is anchored to the body of your sniper rifle, finger hovering over the trigger as you hide behind the outcropping of rubble in the decimated cityscape; the air is hot and humid despite the weight of the night. It sticks to your skin in a sheen of violent sweat. Yet it’s still not as potent as the blood. 

Teeth gritted, you hold back whimpers as Federation soldiers stalk the grounds, scores of them—legions. An entire army that had breached the walls and executed everyone insight, soldiers, civilians, if it once moved it didn’t anymore. The burning in your shoulder was agonizing, head smashing itself back to the rubble in an attempt to stifle your own ragged need to scream into the night as layers had peeled back to allow a bullet to pass through. 

In the ten years you’d been here, you’d taken up the mantle of quite the sharpshooter; pulling on Keegan’s lessons when he was on leave and wanted to bring you to the firing range. You had even picked a rifle similar to the one back in your destroyed home—held in a plastic case and treated like royalty by your long-deceased lover. It wasn’t the same, but the jet-black Lynx made you steady like the picture in your breast pocket did. 

A reminder of what was lost and why you had picked the knock-off up in the first place.

Footsteps get closer as the sweep of a flashlight cards above your skull, if possible you go even more still, lips pulled in and heart rampaging. There were barked orders and yelling, but no more screaming. 

How long had you been unconscious after taking that shot to the shoulder? Fear was breeding with horror—was…was everyone dead?

Spanish is loudly called not five feet away, and the flashlight leaves as your breath does. You let off a quiet gasp and suck down air greedily. Eyes flashing from one shadow to another, you look for any opportunity to slip away from the city. In the wind, you could smell fire, and taste it on your tongue as you licked your lips. 

All around you can see the limp shadows of bodies and the apartments, large skyscrapers were on fire deep in their frames. The city was entirely lost.

How the federation got into the walls you would never know, though there was concern about the enemy soldiers rounding up civilians outside the walls and executing them. Maybe one cracked before the bullet entered their skull.

You bite hard into your lip to force back your pain. Trying to shoot a rifle would be useless at this point, you might as well have lost the limb. Slinging the gun’s strap over your head, you look back and forth along your visible perimeter, checking for hostiles as you unsheathe your combat knife and cradle your limp arm to your chest. 

If only Keegan could see you now.

Rounds of gunfire make the air burn with urgency, and you take the time to peek out behind as sweat makes a trail down your dirty face, dripping off of your chin as you breathe like a wheezing dog. Your wound needed tending, and you had the med pack on your vest with the supplies, but you can’t do it here.

Where’s safe? If Dallas has fallen…is there anywhere that’s still standing? A location hits your brain as your gaze darts from one abandoned street to another. You take a deep breath and whine as you force your legs to stand and move quickly, feet shifting as quietly as you’re able to make them. 

“Fort Santa Monica.” Now a stronghold, you’d heard US soldiers here talking about the large presence of military power out in California—numbers so great they rivaled those that had lived in Dallas. 

You stumble over a spasming body and slam your uninjured shoulder into the bulk of the building’s wall, groaning loudly like a wounded boar. 

“Fuck!” If you made it out of the city, that would be where you would have to go; to warn them of what was coming. The Federation had found a way inside the Dallas wall, and that meant if they had enough tenacity, they could do it to them too. 

Everything would be done if another city fell.  

Holding your knife tighter, you push off the wall and grit your teeth harder, mind running on that edge of hysteria and forced calm. It’s in these moments where you have to pull on old memories to keep you going—even if they end up hurting more than the open wounds you carry. 

Keegan had his bad moments, but you always got through them together. Years and years of knowing each other inside and out; memorizing bodies and thoughts like they were second nature. He would want you to keep fighting, tell you to get your ass in gear and go…and you would never let him down. 

You owed him that much even if some days you wanted more than anything to join him. 

Blade in hand, you hear muttered speech from up the alleyway and pause, feet splayed but still swaying as you come to a slow stop. Your ears ring at garbled sentences, foreign words spilling into one another. 

Panting, you listen closely, limbs vibrating. More gunfire echoes over the air, screams and death that get ingrained into your head like a brand into sizzling flesh. Skyscrapers burned and buildings fell with great earthquake booms. Everything is under a sheen of distance.

Get out of the city. Get to Fort Santa Monica.

“Kill who I have to,” you slur out, itching at your neck as you leave a trail of blood behind you. A single pair of footsteps walk quickly forward near your corner and you hold your breath, bringing up your knife as pain pounds in your arm. 

Deep blue eyes sit in the back of your mind, counting you down as they always did.

Keep your arm steady for me, Doll, a phantom tells you. Breathe...

When the first shadow of a Fed soldier graces your eyes, you strike. 

—

It’s roughly nineteen days from Dallas to Santa Monica, and that was if you kept up at a steady walking pace. If the crude sling you’d fashioned from bandages found in your med pack was any indicator, it would be double that. 

On the first day, you had hiked half-dead over the destroyed landscape of what remained of the USA, licking your wounds and counting your losses. You’d had your pick of abandoned houses, taking a red brick one just because it looked nice and you were about to pass out from blood loss. The only reason you’d made it this far was that the bullet had thankfully passed right through you, making sure that if you moved too suddenly no more damage was being done internally. You packed it with a sterile rag.

Sitting in the home, pictures gathering dust on the fireplace mantle, you tipped back a bottle of whisky you’d found in one of the bedrooms, grimacing at the sting. It was better to be drunk for what you were about to do. 

Heating up your combat knife in the fire you had started in the hearth, you watched the metal grow an eye-flinching white as you stared off into nothingness. 

“You remember when you showed me that scar, Keegan?” You always talked to him. Others had given you shit for it, but they knew the purpose. If you didn’t talk to someone, even a ghost, you would give up. 

The guilt was eating you alive, and it would overtake you eventually. Hadn’t in ten years, but it would…you knew it, everyone did. 

Keegan was everything, and nothing looked the same when you lost him.

“The one on your thigh?” Pulling the knife back, you turn to the leaking flesh of your shoulder, gushing blood as black desecrates the sides of your eyes. You’d taken off your vest and shirt. If you tried hard enough you could imagine Keegan standing in the corner, watching. Always watching. “You said you had to dig a bullet out and cauterize the wound—when I asked you said you barely felt it over all the adrenaline.”

The ghost tilts its head, eyes sad and lips pulling taunt. Your lungs take in a shaky inhale and your hand quivers; only you feel how your eyes burn with unshed tears. 

“I never thought about it before,” right as you growl and shove the knife into your skin, you bark out in fear, “But I think you were fucking lying!” 

On day two, you knew you had to avoid the remains of Fort Worth, so you decided to increase your distance and cut that landmark out entirely—too many remnants of Federation. They were everywhere now, and you needed to keep low; get out of Texas. You scavenged properties and took stock. 

Four magazines for your Lynx, a pouch with five protein bars, one bottle of water attached to your belt, and your knife. Normally you’d have a pistol at your thigh, but you’d used it up in the firefight back home. When you’d woken back up, it had been gone.

And, of course, you had the picture. You kissed Keegan’s face and placed it back in your breast pocket, caressing the material softly before clearing your throat and addressing the obvious. 

With what you had getting to California was a pipe dream. 

You’d been on the radio all day, clicking through channels and pleading for anyone alive to reach out. Nothing. Static. 

I’m the only one left. The thought was intoxicating, pounding in your skull like your hangover. Everyone is dead. 

While you had become somewhat of a loner in the last ten years, especially with the few months you’d been by yourself in the beginning, Dallas had given you a chance to build bonds again. Ten years, and in an instant it was all wiped out. 

It rang a devastating bell.

Somehow, you had cheated death where so many others had failed—not only in Texas, but back with ODIN too. You had survived, but somehow Keegan hadn’t. 

Keegan, the one who never spoke about ‘05 and jerked awake from nightmares years later because of it. Keegan, who wanted nothing more than to stay at your side when he was home and keep you on his chest when watching movies. Keegan, the love of your life.

The only love of your life. 

“I really wish you were here,” you mutter, grimacing as your arm gets jostled as you stumble over a piece of rusted metal in the empty street. “Who gave you the right to go away before me, huh? We were supposed to grow old together, Russ. You promised me that.” 

Garbage gets blown over the road when a hot breeze shifts the air, bringing the scent of dirt and the noise of rustling trees. Nature has reclaimed the towns and suburbs—great patches of ivy and long grass that rise to your hips. But the silence was a curse.

The only thing keeping you going is the thought of delivering your warning to Santa Monica, from there…

Your lips thinned. What even was there left? How many times could you go from one place to another, starting over with stories of your past and having to brush the pitying looks off as you fake a smile? 

Shaking your head, you recall memories from the better days as the light gets low in the sky. 

“You’re doin’ too much, Sweet Thing,” Keegan mutters, and you turn from the stove top with a bright smile to face him. 

He had just gotten out of the shower, towel ruffling through his dark hair as he stands in the kitchen entrance and watches you cook for him. The shirt hangs off of his wide shoulders, and gray sweatpants are loose over his formed hips—his strong brow line raises in a casual expression. 

“Oh, don’t act like you don’t like it,” you tease, hearing his low chuckles as you turn back to your pan. “You look good, y’know.” 

“Oh, yeah?” Keegan grunts, smirking, and his feet pad over to you, tossing the towel to the counter as his presence looms over your back. Large hands grab onto your hips and a nose burrows into your hair; inhaling deeply before gradually melting to the curve of your spine. 

You smile and hum, pushing back so you can rest on his chest. A chin sets itself on your head, deep massaging fingers making you pur as they bunch your sleep shorts.

It was late—nearly two in the morning. Keegan had only gotten home a short while ago, but sleep wasn’t going to stop you from spoiling him. A wine bottle was on the island counter, two glasses, and the food was nearly done from what you could scrounge up on short notice.

“...Good to be back,” the man grumbles into you, kissing your head and slowly sweeping his arms around your waist as you sighed softly at the contact. 

Your face gains heat. 

“Well, I’d sure hope so, or else this would be awkward.” You huff to hide the bright smile in your voice. But like a moth to flame, you hear, as well as feel, Keegan chuckle against your spine. His grip squeezes you for a moment. 

“How was it when I was away?” He asks as you move around the contents in the pan, nose brushing your neck as his lips travel to kiss behind your ear. He breathes against the flesh as his low rasp makes you shiver. “Any trouble?”

“Negative, Sergeant,” you raise a brow and smirk over your shoulder at him, seeing his blues spark as he gazes hard into your eyes. A faint twitch to his lips is what you get before his hand captures your cheek; anchoring your face as he descends to connect his mouth to yours.

He sighs into it, arm still around your waist—tight as if you were a pillow. 

“Keep talkin’ like that and we won’t have to wait long for dessert, will we?” 

Days three through seven were uneventful beyond the constant agony of your arm and tired legs, but on day eight amid a waterless walk in the sweltering heat was when the hallucinations began. 

Keegan walks beside you, his footsteps mirroring your own as sweat pools down your forehead and drips off your nose. He doesn’t speak, doesn’t look at you—he just walks, looking exactly like he did the day he died. 

At first, you’d flinched back and blinked wildly at the sight, panting, but then he’d disappeared and your heart had shattered. It worried you with what you were seeing, but it was also a strange comfort to be able to ramble to…something, even if it wasn’t real. Hungry and with a dry tongue, you were on the verge of calling it quits.

So on day eleven, without a wild animal in sight to give you a proper food source and all the water having to be purified, you started talking to him while licking the inside wrapper of your last protein bar. 

“But I never understood why you hated sleeping in shirts,” you licked your lips to get the remnants of granola off of your flesh, pushing away the greasy sheen from your cheeks. Your arm was burning up—every heartbeat was felt as it moved the skin around red and infected flesh up and down. Puss was leaking out from the crude stitches you had made of embroidery thread from that first house you’d found. 

“And you always kept the room freezing.” Continuing, you drop the wrapper to the ground and then take the meat of your fingers and get what little flavor you can off of them, grunting through realization. “That was a ploy to have me use you for heat, wasn’t it? Jesus.” 

The man in the corner of your vision smirks, tilting his head and chuckling from where he leans against a tree trunk. 

“Yeah, that’s right. Knew it.” Glaring at nothing, you stand from your overturned stump and nearly fall right back over, stomach yelling at you as your vision swirls. 

You dig a hand into your hair and grip at the strands, pulling and groaning. “...God.” 

Keegan comes over and stands above you, your eyes staring down at his feet as you get light-headed. You focus on his shoelaces, counting the Xs and taking down shaky breaths. When you blink like a cat with dirt on its face, the shoes are gone entirely and you stand back up to your full height.

“...Keegan?” You ask after a moment, the words disappearing into the trees, but no one’s around. 

Your sight goes to your wound and your jaw tightens, moments of clarity slipping in as a knife would into your consciousness before the curtain settles once more. 

You bend over and vomit what little nutrients you had, spending day twelve sleeping through a fit of nightmares and fever-induced delirium.

Nothing about the remainder of the time you can recall to memory—bits and pieces always flash through on long nights, but they’re only walking montages. Dragging feet, looking at your hand as if it was a foreign object as you turned it back and forth; everything in a sheen of sickness. Days and days and days. Little food. Less water. 

More than one-thousand miles.

But somehow, the Wall peels out in front of you as you crash through the foliage, your body giving out and collapsing down a large decline. Bouncing and getting jostled by rocks, you come to a stop without the strength to get back up, staring blankly ahead as your head connects with concrete. Your mouth is open in broken inhales, pain not even registering. 

Shouts echo, the pound of rapid feet. 

Green eyes meet yours, a youthful face with a beanie and stubble. He’s saying something to you, glancing over your gear and your obvious near-death situation—his hand jostles the side of your face. But your eyes shift behind him gradually, attention falling to someone more important. 

Before you finally let yourself rest, you stare at the smiling face of your steadfast phantom.

—

The doctors and nurses at Fort Santa Monica were nice, if a bit secretive about the entire operation. Seeing as you weren’t an official soldier, no dog tags or patches—no name in the database—everyone was a bit hesitant to tell you anything. 

Until you said you were from Dallas, of course. 

But no one was eager to rush you in your state, even if the information was dire. You had been hooked up to an IV and bedridden for a week straight; talking to nothing on account of the dehydration and electrolyte imbalances. Some days you spend unconscious. 

But what really pissed you off when you got back into it, was the fact that they had taken your Lynx and your gear—your picture.

You’d almost grappled onto the first nurse you’d seen when you’d woken without it. It was a beacon, your prized possession of damaged corners and taped tears. Water damage that may or may not have been from sobbing fits in the first five years. 

In fact, that was the entire reason you had snuck out so late in the first place. 

Stalking down the hallway in the white shirt and camo pants that had been given to you on the fifth morning you had woken up here, you pad along with no shoes, only plain gray socks. You limp with bandaged flesh all along your healing shoulder and your feet. 

The doctor had explained that you’d entirely skinned the bottoms and your heels were a mess of blisters and open wounds. 

“Take my property,” you grumble under your breath, shuffling along and rubbing at the back of your neck. “What gives them the right?” 

You weren’t going to stop until you found it. 

Reading the name tags on the walls, you silently wonder where they would have taken your stuff as you slip out of the medical ward, listening to the buzzing of the lights and frowning. As you’re limping along the next hallway, a man suddenly turns the corner on nearly silent feet. 

“Woah!” You halt immediately, heart jumping in your chest. A hand catches your shoulder before you run headlong into him. 

Green eyes lock with your own, wide and blinking quickly. Brows furrow and you’re quickly looked over before a slow, teasing remark enters the air, you listen with a growing heat on your neck.

“Y’know, I could have sworn you were supposed to be in bed, Ma’am. I miss something here?” The man who had found you. 

“Wouldn’t know,” you say blandly, blinking up at him and taking a careful step back. This brunette had a casual air to him—still in his gear despite the time. He folds his arms and tilts his head at you, smirking. “If you’ll excuse me.” 

You begin to walk forward, slipping past him and hoping you won’t get snitched on. Except it seems you’ll be having a shadow, as not a few seconds later a smooth chuckle meets your ears and the man walks beside you. 

“I think I’ll be taggin’ along if you don’t mind. Security and all.” He turns to face you, sticking out his opposite hand. “Hesh.”

“That supposed to be some kind of nickname, Kid?” You raise a stiff brow but participate in the handshake nonetheless. His grip is firm but not hard. 

Hesh blinks at you, eyes swimming with amusement before he shrugs in a boyish way and shakes his head with a laugh. “Hell, you remind me of someone, Ma’am.” A moment passes in silence as you study the area. The man huffs, “Where exactly are we off to?” 

“Wonderland,” your lips grumble, tired and wanting to sleep but not until you find your picture. Hesh sighs but you can still hear the hilarity inside of it. 

“Alright then…don’t know if you’re going to be finding a shrinking potion anytime soon, though. We’re in low stock.”

“Very funny,” your eyes send a dry look, but you relent when he prods you with his eyes, taking a corner. “I’m looking for my vest.” Hesh blinks at you in curiosity, letting you elaborate as you motion to your upper shoulder. “My pouch has some of my personal belongings. I don’t like being away from it.” 

“Oh,” the brunette nods a few times, his beanie jerking along. “Yeah, that’s no problem.” A hand is waved and you stare in confusion as he pivots. “C’mon, I’ll get you there.” 

Your eyes burn into his back before you immediately speed after. 

“Why so eager to help?” Hesh smirks at your question. 

“As I see it, if you went over nineteen days of hard hiking just to get to us, you should at least be able to keep your stuff on you, Ma’am.” Your lips flicker in a smile. 

“You’d be the first.” You tell him your name and miss the slight emotion it provokes in his eyes, head lightly pulling to the side but ultimately saying nothing. Hesh shrugs with a grunt, leading you to a meeting room on the opposite side of the building. 

Yelling is on the other side.

“Elias, how long has this been kept from me?!” The voice makes your head perk, evoking something inside of your chest. Hesh seems taken aback too, holding up a hand to you for momentary silence—not that you had to be told. 

“Keegan, I can’t have that happen. She needs to recover and you being there could jeopardize that. We need what she knows about Dallas.” Your body stills to a near-frozen state, and it’s comedic how your entire face falls to a blank slate. Wait a second.

…Keegan?

“She belongs with me—I thought she fucking died and she’s been here for who knows how long?! Why wasn’t I informed?” Rampaging feet suddenly sound off, going to the door at break-neck speed.

“Son, that’s not a good idea. This is what I was worried would happen if you found out.”

“I didn’t exactly ask, did I? As far as I’m concerned, nothing else matters besides getting back to my Girl,” the bark is ferocious and violent, more of an animal’s than a man’s. “Now where the hell did you put her before I tear this damn fort apart and—” You shove at the door before Hesh can grab you, throwing it open and letting it hit the opposite wall with a great boom of wood. 

Your wild eyes instantaneously lock into sharp blues, pulse pounding in your ears. It’s like all the air is taken from your lungs in a great punch. 

Oh, he’s so similar to how you remembered him to be ten years ago. 

Keegan stands only a few feet away, turned in your direction with his eyes so wide and small you might faint. There’s black face paint in his sockets, making the cerulean all the more bright and shocking to the senses. He’s still tall, still built, if only a bit more rugged than when ODIN struck—there are lines on his forehead and his scars are more faded. Small differences in the way he holds himself like the difference between a rabbit and a hare. Keegan’s black locks are shorter now, but still…his.

Lips part in silent shock, an entire halt of your nervous system. 

The entire universe holds its tongue as you two stare at each other; walls and rooms blur into a mess of matter and reality—this couldn’t be real. 

Keegan’s feet shift for a moment as if to steady himself as his fingers twitch. In his hand, he holds your picture, his body covered in gear and weapons. He blinks as you tell yourself he’s a phantom, simply that same ghost come back to haunt you as tears sting the backs of your eyes. But then he speaks, and it’s the same voice you had slowly lost the ability to remember in year three. 

“...Sweetheart?”

His ghost never spoke. His ghost could not imitate the phonics of his speech or the rhythm of his throat. His ghost could not make you recall the memories you’d long since boxed up.

You jerk forward just as he does, bodies colliding into a feral grip of flesh and fabric, hands latching and faces burying. Sobs rip from you as Keegan’s shaky breath echoes right next to your ear—his chest hitching and arms snatching your waist and lifting you up as easily as he always had. He holds you up without any thought of putting you down, legging your legs dangle as Elias slowly exits the room and corrals a highly confused Hesh with him.

The door shuts, but neither of you notices. 

“Keegan—” Your voice is high with emotion, hardly believing what you're seeing—what you’re touching. “Oh, my God.” 

He had been alive all this time? Ten whole years and you’d thought he was dead. But by the way he was barely letting you breathe from in his iron clutch, you imagined Keegan had thought the same about you. It was…incomprehensible. 

“Shh,” he whispers, his shushes cracking and flinching between broken gasps of your name. “Shh.” He sets you down on the floor only to have his firm hands travel to your cheeks, turning your head to each side in a desperate need to understand if you were really there.

Keegan’s eyes are wet, but no tears let themselves fall quite yet. 

“I’m so sorry!” You hiccup and the man kisses your cheeks—your browline and nose. Every piece of you he can as you both stay so intimate you might melt into one another. “I thought you were gone, I-I should have stayed and looked for you, I didn’t—”

“You’re alive?” Keegan’s hands rub across your body, gripping and tugging you closer and closer. “My Girl’s alive?” 

His tears drip to your face as he hovers above you, and you both shake with the weight of years. 

“Me?” Your chuckle through sobs—you want to scream and wail at the same time. Blue eyes flutter and ragged breaths puff on your forehead. “What about you, you asshole?” 

Keegan shakes his head, and you stare deeply into him, hands coming up to cup his cheeks as he sags forward. He had stubble now, spreading out to grate your flesh. 

The man forces a weak huff. 

“Christ,” is all he mutters before he presses his lips to yours in a kiss so unyielding you expect to have your air stolen. Ten years to feel him kissing you again—to feel his warm flesh under your hands and his heart rampage into you. 

You’d do it all over if it still amounted to this.

Your body shivers and you reciprocate with just as much fervor; this emotion of relief is so overwhelming and all-consuming that it makes your head light. You suck down quick breaths between the sensation of your lips meeting, Keegan doing the same. 

Unconsciousness was better than letting him leave again, your lover sharing that sentiment as chests slid against one another. Soft hair slips through your fingers as you grip Keegan’s hair, cascading through locks as he groans into your lips and tries to hide his tears from you. 

He pulls away and immensely shoves his head into your neck. 

“You’re here,” he whispers quickly. A hand quivers at the back of your head as your tears wet his gear. “You’re right here. You came back to me, didn’t you, Doll?” 

You cry, “I’m here, Keegan.” The man sobs when he hears you say his name, his knees giving out as you both fall to the floor and not letting the other move beyond the caress of skin and lips.

“I missed you,” Keegan gasps, “so much. Don’t you understand? I was nothing without you. You took it all from me, everything. Every damn thing.” 

You press kisses to his neck and racing pulse, healing him inside and out without even realizing it; it was only fair, he was doing the same back to you. 

The picture lays long forgotten on the floor.

“Never let me go,” your voice forces out, as he rocks you back and forth like a child. “Never again, Keegan. Please, I love you too much to go through that again.”

“Never,” he immediately promises, pulling back and kissing your lips again—neither can stop themselves from this. Blues eyes blink quickly, cataloging your face and every little blemish he’d have to relearn and study; to find the story behind. Keegan had never been happier. He felt like he might break from it. “Over my dead body, I’m never lettin’ you out of my sight. You’re stuck with me.”

You laugh genuinely for the first time in ten years and say you’d like nothing better as he pulls you back in and plants his mouth to yours in reverent worship. His arms trapping you to him as yours do just the same.

Not to leave again anytime soon. 

TAGS:

@luuvbuzz, @emerald-valkyrie, @anna-banana27, @blueoorchid, @cryingnotcrying, @writeforfandoms, @homicidal-slvt, @jade-jax, @frazie99, @elmoees, @littlemisstrouble, @alpineswinter, @phoenixhalliwell, @idocarealot, @lavalleon, @facelessmemories, @h-leigh, @20forty9, @glitter-anon-asks, @emily-who-killed-a-man, @neelehksttr, @aeneanc, @escapefromrealitysm, @i-d-1-0-t, @pparcxysm, @hawkscanendme, @caramlizedtomatos, @konigsleftkidney, @sanfransolomitatm, @maelstrom007, @jemandderkeinenusernamenfindet, @pheobees, @glitterypirateduck, @uselsshuman, @fan-of-encouragement, @halfmoth-halfman, @ghostlythunderbird, @I-inkage, @pukbadger, @kopatych11, @0nceinabluem00n, @cocrorapop, @knightofsexyness, @abnormalgeil, @smallseastone, @jacegons, @330bpm-whiplash, @simon-rileys-housewife, @4-atsu, @tiredmetalenthusiast

[runnning-outof-time]

I’m (Not) Alright with a Slow Burn | Tommy Shelby x Reader headcanons

Request: yes by anonymous

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Reader (headcanons)

Summary: How Tommy would go about being stuck in a slow burn with someone he's falling for.

Warnings: mention of death of grandmother, slight season 2 spoilers

Word Count: 2537

A/N: I really enjoyed this request! umm…I’m not sure if these are 100% written like headcanons - I wrote them like I was spewing out ideas lol. Kacey Musgraves’s song Slow Burn was also running through my head while I was writing this, hence the title. Also how the hell do you actually spell headcanons?? Is there 1 ‘n’ or 2?? Lol . Enjoy! :)

I’D LOVE TO KNOW WHAT YOU THINK! - YOUR COMMENTS & REBLOGS HELP ME WRITE!

Comment/Message me if you want to be tagged!

• (Y/N) was one of the few Shelby Company Ltd. employees that Tommy didn't hire. She was brought on board while he and the boys were off at one of the races. Polly saw the potential in her and immediately welcomed her into the company.

�� when Tommy returned from said races, he was pleasantly surprised to meet her.

• and Polly clocked that immediately. She was able to tell by the lack of a fight - Tommy was always able to find something to pick at when she made decisions within the company, no matter how minuscule. But there was nothing to pick at with (Y/N).

• Polly also wasn't surprised to see (Y/N) completing more and more tasks that came directly from Tommy. They'd be tasks that Polly hadn't even known about...but for some reason Tommy trusted (Y/N) with them.

• (Y/N) didn't think anything different about it. She'd been hired into the company and one of her bosses was asking her to do things. That's what was supposed to happen, right?

• although she did find it odd that it was Tommy asking her to do these things when she'd originally been hired to help Polly with sorting out the books and the like.

• things persisted like that for a few months. (Y/N) would happily and eagerly help him with whatever he needed to have done around the company. He'd look out for her, making sure that she was happy in her position and just in general. And in return, (Y/N) would (try) to keep up the same for him. She'd show that in the smallest of ways and attempts, but he would notice. Over those few months and because of those small acts, Tommy's thoughts and feelings towards (Y/N) evolved.

• he can still remember the day when that switch began - because it haunted him every day after.

• she came into his office like it was any other day for her...but it wasn't any other day for Tommy.

• he'd been working under Campbell for a few weeks at that point, and it'd become apparent that he'd be dead at the end of the arrangement. Tommy wasn't afraid to die, but the thought of getting everything in order and making sure his family could go on without him was now plaguing his mind.

• so when (Y/N) asked him what he had for her to do today, Tommy rattled off his list without as much as looking up at her. He was fully expecting her to turn and exit the second he finished speaking.

• she didn't. Silence reigned for a moment or two before "are you ok, Tommy?" came quietly from her. This made Tommy look up, and when he did, all of the noise in his mind ceased. Sure he looked at her before - he'd looked up like this thousands of times, but he never saw her like he did when he looked up this time. It was this otherworldly experience that he'd only been through twice before. Which meant he knew exactly what was happening.

• even though he brushed her question off and told her that he was fine, he hoped that things wouldn't change between them.

• and thankfully they didn't because hell, Tommy Shelby was certain that he was falling in love.

• he began testing the waters carefully at first. (Y/N) was a good woman and he wasn't about to make her leave the company due to his actions. He couldn't stand to lose her.

• so he started by making sure she was being heard; by actually listening to her whenever she'd share ideas or tell him how things played out with what he'd asked her to do.

• then he emphasized making sure that she was safe - having blinders on her block, sticking around on the days where she and Polly would be in the shop tallying the winnings, and also personally offering to take her wherever she needed to go.

• (Y/N) reacted bashfully to these offers. She felt that the other company employees would think that she was getting special treatment or something — well...she kind of was...but she deeply appreciated Tommy doing these things.

• in regards to feelings, Tommy was putting his out there as best as he could (which, well I'll let you be the one to decide on how well that is) He really tried to make a more personal connection with her; to get to know her as her and not just another employee...and in turn he let her know him.

• (Y/N) stayed professional. He was one of her bosses after all. But she couldn't deny that she enjoyed being in his presence. Her friends found that crazy, too...how can she be happy to be spending time with Tommy Shelby? She swore it off as strictly work related until she couldn't anymore.

• the evening started like any other...(Y/N) went home after work with the intention of doing what she did every other evening. But something was waiting for her at home. Something that turned her world upside-down. She found out that her grandmother had passed away. The post had come and one of the letters was from a sibling of hers, sharing the news. She didn't know what to do.

• after exhausting all of her options, she found herself at the Garrison. Tommy had invited her there in the past, but she never accepted it due to wanting to stay professional.

• she asked around for him and the second she found out that he was in the snug, she made her way to it and opened the door. He was in there, but so were his brothers. "This was the last place I could think of," she blurted out. "Everyone out," was all Tommy needed to say before it was just the two of them in the room.

• (Y/N) quickly sat and let everything out. Tommy listened intently, something no one had ever done for her in the past. They sat in the snug for hours, (Y/N) talking and Tommy listening. Her ability to share her grandmother's story helped her immensely.

• from that evening, (Y/N) saw Tommy in a different light. The fact that he sat and listened to her as she lamented to him and not once did he even think of leaving meant the world to her. No one had shown her that sort of worthiness or attention.

• all at once it felt like she was head over heels for him. Like all of those little instances he'd shown her before had all culminated into this one, major display of devotion. It had her realizing that maybe it wasn't solely because she was his employee...maybe it was much more than that.

• and so when he went out of his way and made sure to check on her the next morning - she knew this because Polly commented on the fact that he was supposed to be in London by sun-up - and he couldn't get him off of her mind no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't beat around the bush anymore...she'd fallen for Tommy Shelby, hard.

• but things didn't hit off right from that moment.

• no, it took a rather long time for those feelings to actually come out.

• there was a lot of dancing around the other - the smaller gestures and moments still occurred, but neither one was willing to make that jump over the edge and confront the other about it.

• yes, you read that right...Tommy Shelby was actually keeping his feelings for her close to the chest.

• mostly it was because of the position they were in. He'd offer to take her to dinner and she'd politely decline (even though she really wanted to go) because she was worried the other company employees would suspect something.

• Tommy wasn't exactly into the dancing around it (he hated it at times actually), but he honored her choice.

• but that doesn't mean he wasn't taking every chance he got to spend time around her. To check in on her and see how things were. To walk her home if she stayed later. Anything to show her that he was serious...without actually saying that he was serious.

• he was hooked on her though, there was no doubt about it. All he needed was for her to really show that interest back to him, and then he'd know for sure that he could act on it.

• and then Polly's birthday came.

• the company/family decided to host a party at the Garrison. Of course (Y/N) was invited.

• a man named Louis was one of the men who worked the shop floor daily. He saw (Y/N) almost every day that she was also on the floor, and he made it a point to seek her out as well.

• much like with Tommy, (Y/N) kept things between her and Louis strictly professional.

• but this party is when Louis decided that he was going to make his move...to try and woo her.

• maybe he should have thought this through...

• (Y/N) was sitting at one of the tables, chatting with some of the other women who worked within the company. It was a surprise that she wasn't with Tommy, considering he sought her out almost immediately after she arrived. But Tommy was still present though.

• Louis had this plan to put everything right on the table. He smoothly walked over to her and, equally as smoothly, slipped into the booth that she was sitting in. (Y/N) was polite, but it was obvious that she wasn't feeding any more into it than a simple, friendly conversation.

• but of course Tommy didn't pick up on that. From where he was standing it looked like Louis was a little too close to her for comfort. So he quickly intervened.

• and he was anything but subtle with it. He was quickly able to make Louis feel uneasy and clear him out.

• (Y/N)'s confused, but happy to have the man she'd hardly talked to gone. She sends Tommy an appreciative smile and that's just about enough to bring Tommy to his knees. But that doesn't happen...instead he gives her one of his signature, lop-sided smiles and nods at the ladies sitting with her before going back to where he previously was.

• this interaction didn't go unnoticed though. Polly and Ada were watching from off to the side. These two know Tommy better than anyone, and they've rarely seen him react this quickly and in this sort of way. So it's glaringly apparent to them that something's going on here.

• and this becomes increasingly apparent as time goes on.

• also as time goes on, (Y/N) manages to move up in the company. She's basically right underneath Polly in terms of power, becoming her 'right hand man’ in the treasurer position.

• having this position means that she's more involved in the inner circle and is at all of the meetings.

• the entire family swears by the fact that Tommy is softer with her than he is with anyone else.

• you can literally see the change the second she shares her thoughts on a matter or even enters a room. The switch is practically on a dime.

• but these two keep dancing around each other - they've been doing it for close to a year at this point.

• and those who know of it are baffled. They are obviously in love with each other...why hasn't one budged and made things official?

• the suspicions on this topic all come to a climax on the first year anniversary of (Y/N) joining the company.

• Tommy invites her out to dinner. (Y/N) agrees this time mostly because she knows what day it is...and she knows that the Shelbys like to celebrate such things.

• but she's surprised when she arrives at the upscale restaurant and is escorted to a table for two. Tommy can't help but smile at the face she pulls when she sees that he's sitting there, waiting for her.

• but she gets comfortable very quickly. It's Tommy we're talking about here...she's never been more comfortable with anyone in her life if she was being honest. And the same goes for him too.

• the dinner lasts hours. They talk about everything and anything. Work's off the table, but yet they still manage to not have more than a moment of silence. Both are surprised at how freely the conversation flows.

• eventually Tommy brings up the subject they've been dancing around.

• he lays everything out on the table this time. There's no sense in holding back. He tells her how she makes him feel, how she's made him feel from the moment he first saw her.

• he also mentions the fact that he's felt this way for a while now, and that he can't continue dancing around it any longer. He honored her desire to stay professional for this time, but he wants her too much, loves her too much to keep going like this for even a day longer.

• at first (Y/N)'s shocked. She's not oblivious...she'd been catching the little hints that he'd been leaving all this time, but she was truthfully too hesitant to ever bring the subject up to him.

• but now that he's put it out there, she figures why should she hold back her feelings any longer?

• so she lays it all out for him as well. Tells him how she feels about him, how she's felt about him for some time now.

• Tommy can't contain his happiness as he hears this. He's grinning like a fool.

• so really there's only one last thing for them to do now...make it official.

• Tommy wastes no time in doing that.

• he asks her properly though. That's what she deserves, especially after all this time that's been invested.

• he stops them just down the road from where she lives. He tells her that he really likes her (he won't use the 'l word' just yet - even though the two of them are so clearly in love) and that he can't wait a moment longer to make her his.

• (Y/N) quickly agrees with the sentiment after everything that had been shared during their dinner.

• Tommy can't help but smile at her response, and he just barely nods his head in his Tommy fashion before continuing to walk her home.

• they share their first kiss at the front door, and it's absolutely magical.

• they then proceed to do a terrible job of hiding it while at work. Tommy's waited this long to be with her, he's not going hide his affection for her any longer.

• their definition of 'in secret' is soooo far from the actual definition. They think that they're being sneaky, only stealing kisses in empty hallways and in Tommy's office, but it takes Polly literally only two days to catch onto it.

• no ones upset with it though. Honestly everyone’s happy that they’re finally together.

• well everyone except Louis…Louis is a little bummed about the whole thing. But Tommy and (Y/N) don’t care about that in the slightest.

Tagged: @mystcldydrms @the-anxious-youth @cloudofdisney @look-at-the-soul @elenavampire21 @mrsalwayswrite @julkaamazing @evita-shelby @notyour-valentine @shelbydelrey @theshelbyslimited @peakyswritings @just-a-blackhole @watercolorskyy @strayrockette @peakyduchesss @alexxavicry @captivatedbycillianmurphy @yummycastiel @dark-academia-slut @tommystargirl @emotionalcadaver @stevie75 @lyarr24 @signorellisantichrist @zablife @anotherblinder @cillmequick @dandelionprints @letal-y-poetica @garrison-girl-08 @insanitybyanothername @depxiety @raincoffeeandfandoms @dragons-are-my-favorite @forgottenpeakywriter @cljordan-imperium @brummiereader @red-riding-wood @everythingelseisextra @little-diable @thomashelbyswife @shaddixlife

MASTERLIST

[rosepinks-world]

‘𝐼 𝐿𝐼𝒦𝐸 𝒴𝒪𝒰𝑅 𝒢𝐼𝑅𝐿𝐹𝑅𝐼𝐸𝒩𝒟 𝒮𝐼𝑅’ / Simon Riley x Female! Reader

Summary: After weeks of guessing what Ghost’s girlfriend would do for work they finally find out when they meet you, much to Ghost’s dismay.

Ghost had, had it.

He was dumb enough to answer a call from you in front of Soap and Gaz, not thinking anything of it but he was wrong.

The little shits had been non stop attempting to guess what his girlfriend looked like and what she would do for a work for nearly the whole week now.

Tuesday:

‘A goth maybe!’ Soap shouted out of nowhere

‘Oh you’re right there mate! Goth girls are fit!’

‘Can you pricks stop playing guess who and keep your fucking mouths shut.’

Wednesday:

‘Sir is your girlfriend a therapist?’ Gaz inquired.

‘Oh yeah! Maybe that’s how they met.’

‘Soap keep your fucking mouth shut.’

Thursday:

‘Oh! I know! She’s a teacher!’

‘You’ve cracked it!’ Ghost replied with fake enthusiasm.

‘Really?

‘No. Keep your eyes on the fucking road.’

It was now Friday, the squad had bagged a weekend off and were eager to get their work done so they could fully relax. And of course, Simon stupidly left his files at home.

So when he’d asked you to bring them to him he made sure to tell you to come through the back entrance (to avoid Soap and Gaz) but of course they were the first two you saw when you entered the building.

‘Why hello there miss! What can I do for you?’

You awkwardly smiled, ‘Um I’ve just brought these in for my boyfriend he forgot them at home.’

Soap took a look at the files and his heart dropped. There were some fucked up things in those files why would your boyfriend just let you have them?

‘Whose the lucky guy? And why would he let you see those?’

You laughed, ‘Simon Riley. And trust me I’ve seen worse.’

‘Oh my fucking god! Gaz!’

The man named Gaz turned around from where he was standing. ‘What.’

The man with the Mohawk repeatedly pointed at you with a big smile on his face. ‘Ghosts girlfriend!’

Gaz immediately ran over to you and started asking you a million questions.

‘You guys are very sweet -in a way but can you just tell me where Simon is and I’ll answer your questions.’

Soap grabbed your hand and dragged you to Ghosts office as quick as he could because he wanted to get answers immediately.

When Ghost looked up he groaned.

Was he happy to see you? Without a doubt

Was he happy to see you with his very inquisitive co workers? No comment.

‘Simon, I have your files.’ you said handing them to him

‘Thanks love.’ He replied pulling out a chair for you to join him at his desk.

You both awkwardly turned to Gaz and Soap as they were just stood there staring at the two of you smirking.

‘You two. Out.’

‘Yes sir.’ Gaz said immediately going to walk out but Soap held the door handle.

‘Sir I will never bother you ever again-‘

‘I find that hard to believe.’ He interrupted and you laughed.

‘Just please let me ask her one question.’

He rolled his eyes

‘That’s fine with me but ask Y/n first.’

Soap looked to you and you nodded. ‘Ask away mate.’

‘What do you do for work?’

Ghost scoffed and you looked at him confused but still answered.

‘I’m a forensic pathologist.’

They gave you a blank expression.

‘I do autopsies, collect evidence from crime scenes to do tests on.’

They finally picked up on it.

‘Oh my god! That’s so cool.’

Gaz was all ears, ‘What’s the most fucked up thing you’ve seen.’

‘One question lad.’ Ghost said gesturing to the door.

You laughed. ‘This won’t be the last you’ll see of me boys, Laswell actually requested my help for this mission so don’t worry you can ask me more questions.’

When Gaz and Soap finally left you turned to your boyfriend.

‘They’re sweet.’

‘Are they?’

‘Oh don’t lie you love them really.’

At the end of the day, Ghost walked you to the exit and waved you goodbye.

‘See you when you get home! Love you.’ You said

‘Love you too.’ He replied and as soon as he turned around his two friends stood eagerly behind him.

The pair were laughing and smiling untill they noticed the look their mate was giving them.Gaz was now shitting himself and didn’t want to dig his grave any further but Soap tried to sweet talk him.

‘I like your girlfriend sir. You did well she’s… wow.’

‘Shut up Soap fucking hell.’

(Mick and Stacy Thomson. Mick reminds me of ghost in a way.)

[izzystizzys]

Half the jobs Fox is sent on are not within his jurisdiction. This certainly isn’t.

Planetary protection unit, they said. Military police. Orbital security force.

And now Fox is being pointed at Count Dooku on some backwater planet and told to fetch. How the mighty have fallen.

He’s pretty sure Kenobi, Skywalker and their units could’ve karked this all up perfectly fine on their lonesome; they don’t need three Guardsmen there to watch them do it. But the Chancellor says jump and Fox surpressed the urge to bash his head in with a durasteel chair. So it goes.

Which is when things start going terribly, terribly wrong, of course.

“Is that Spinder?!”, Skywalker exclaims, arms wheeling out in the air wildly to try and catch his balance. “The Count fucks?!”

Across the room, Cody rips his helmet off, several shades redder than a baseline human should be. “The Count fucks my brother?!”

Two lightsticks hover uselessly in the air, Skywalker’s zig-zagging in a relentless hum with his gesturing. Fox stands stock-still, in the hope that maybe he’ll spontaneously turn invisible if he does. Around them, 501st and 212th troopers gape through helmets. Behind him, Nuisance gasps for air amidst screaming laughter.

Ping, went Fox’s comm unit, in that unmistakeable lascivious jingle sound. Ping, answered Count Dooku’s within a split second. Match found close by.

For a moment, Fox considers what it would be like to run at the Count’s lightsaber at full speed.

…not like that.

“Count”, Kenobi says, with a face like he’s bitten into a rotten fruit. Not that Fox knows what fruit tastes like. “This is a highly… unexpected development.” He fwoosh-es his lightsaber shut, obviously having given up on fighting. “I’d call it a conflict of interest, but I’m not sure that applies?”

“Oh, it’s gonna be a conflict of something, for sure”, Cody hisses, fists clenched at his sides. He looks about ready to boil over, with Crys and Waxer inching closer in preparation. “What have you done to my brother, you monster?!”

“I don’t think you want to know that, Commander”, Nuisance gasps out between barks of laughter, proving why he’s eternally Fox’s least favourite. Cody’s splotchy red complexion slowly fades into ghostly white as a sheen of horror settles over the room. “Thanks for the fancy chocolate bouquet last week, Count!”

Dooku, who has been thus far staring at the floor with an empty thousand-klick stare, looks up at that. Fox has seldom seen a man that defeated outside of the mirror, he has to admit - but shudders when he remembers exactly what the chocolates were for.

Oh Force, he’s sexted Count Dooku into buying him gifts. Does that make him a Seppie spy? Traitor by proxy?

“I feel”, says the Count, gravely, still holding his long red laserknife in a white-knuckled death-grip, “that I have been taken for a fool.”

“Uh”, says Fox, nervously. All eyes snap to him. Oh Force, oh Force, oh Force. They’re going to invent a whole new kind of decommissioning for this and name it after Fox.

“Is it really scamming if you actually get what you pay for?”, asks Grids, considering. Fox slowly pulls off his helmet just for the comforting feeling of burying his head in his gloved palms. The sounds of a struggle ensue, and Kenobi makes a choked-off noise. Maybe if he’s embarrassed enough he’ll give himself an aneurysm.

“Grandmaster, why are you paying people for naked pictures of themselves on the holonet?!” Kenobi asks, despairingly. “Aren’t you a little old for that?”

“Oi, no one said I was naked!”, Fox exclaims, head whipping up.

“So naked”, Nuisance laughs, palm thumping against the floor. He might be crying.

“I’m not decrepit”, the Count blusters, and Skywalker makes a gagging noise. “I have - there are needs, and they are perfectly natural!” It takes three troopers to restrain Cody from launching himself at the Count.

[purinfelix]

Joao with actress reader 👀

just an act ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ - joao felix

pairing: actress reader x joao felix (established relationship) summary: in which your boyfriend's possessive tendencies are put to the test warnings: none! w/c: 1.1k

a/n: take a shot everytime i apologise for being ia challenge !! also this is a teensy bit rushed and i'm not entirely happy with it but, i hope it's alright !! tysm anon for the req (and for waiting for so long for me to answer it 😭)

“Joao, you’re sure you’re okay with it?”

“How many times are you going to ask me that?” your boyfriend huffed, “I’m fine! Really!”

“You literally skipped out on training to follow me to work,” you reminded him, with a slightly teasing tone.

“So?”

You let out a sigh for what felt like the hundredth time in the past hour and tried your best to maintain your composure. Around you, the atmosphere of an active film set roared with its flurry of light, noise, and movement. Neither your hair nor makeup were close to being done, and you were still standing wrapped in the plush white robe the costuming staff had given you before you changed into your outfit for your scene. Somewhere to your right you watched the director and his entourage of nervous interns scrounge around the perfect the set’s lighting, and push all of the cameras and mics in their right places. Behind you, your costar sat on his chair, waiting impatiently, ready for the scene the two of you were shooting today.

And yet, the only thing you found your attention being drawn to was the boy that stood in front of you, with floppy hair and pleading eyes and a pout that was just too hard to deny.

“So, are you sure you’re alright with this? With me kissing another man?” you repeated, slowly, growing more aware of how little time you had until the cameras were set to start rolling.

When you had come home a couple of weeks ago with the news - that the new movie you were starring in would involve a kissing scene between you and your costar - you were nervous, to say the least. You knew Joao was the type to value your career just as much as you did, and would never do anything to stop you from achieving your dreams. However, you were equally aware that he had possessive tendencies, as much as he pretended not to. Of course, he had acted casual about the news at first, telling you that as long as you were comfortable with it, he was too.

But now that the time to shoot the scene had actually come, it seemed like he was having second thoughts - evidenced by the fact he had insisted on following you to work and had spent the past hour or so hovering around as you got ready, expression equal parts nervous and stern. Despite this, you knew he’d rather die than admit how he really felt, even if you prodded him a thousand times just to say what was clearly on his mind.

“Yep! Totally fine!” he chirped out in a falsely cheery tone. The way his eyes flickered anxiously between you, and your costar waiting in the distance, seemed to suggest otherwise.

You could only rub his arm reassuringly though, offering a look that you hoped conveyed your gratefulness at the fact he trusted you enough to not get in your way, but also cared enough to be so watchful. Still, the staff around you waited for no one, and soon enough you were ushered back into your makeup chair, from which you watched your boyfriend linger behind the cameras, chewing on his bottom lip nervously.

“Joao, baby.”

You were starting to feel like a broken record at this point.

The scene had gone well, and you had only had to reshoot it a couple of times because of either you or your costar forgetting or stumbling over your lines. But the two of you had done your best to maintain an air of professionalism surrounding the intimate scene - your boyfriend however hadn’t been so well.

“I’m fine.” His tone, and the fact that his back was facing you as the two of you lay in bed together, told you otherwise.

The kiss - or kisses as Joao had corrected you - had only lasted seconds, nothing more than quick pecks in fleeting moments. You hadn’t thought much of them before, during, and now after them but it was clear he didn’t share the same sentiment.

“You said you were okay with it,” you sighed softly, trying your best to push the understanding tone in your voice.

“I am.”

“It doesn’t really seem like it.” Whilst it seemed like the bare minimum for him to let you go ahead with something your job required of you, you couldn’t help but feel grateful for him putting aside his feelings for you - or at least trying to. A part of you found it slightly adorable as well, that he was trying so hard to hide his slight jealousy - evidenced by his moody demeanour the entire afternoon after you got back from shooting.

“What makes you think that?” You couldn’t tell if he was genuinely clueless or whether he was just messing with you. Struggling against your mattress, you pushed yourself up and leaned over to him, resting your chin on his shoulder - from where you could see his side profile, and furrowed brows.

“Hmm, I wonder,” you hum, fingers moving to gently interlace his fingers with yours as a silent way of saying I know something’s wrong.

“It’s just,” he began, and you felt a weight lift off of your shoulders at finally breaking through to him, “that costar of yours, Andy or whatever his name is, seemed a little bit too into it.”

You had to stop yourself from giggling, given how sincere his words were, but you couldn’t help but find his jealousy a little bit adorable.

“Joao, his name is Andrew,” you corrected him, “and he has a girlfriend.”

“What?”

“Yeah, and she’s lovely,” you chuckled softly, relief washing over you as you watched your boyfriend break into a small smile for what felt like the first time all day. You could physically feel the tension in his shoulders melt away as he let out a sigh of relief he must’ve been holding ever since you had come home with the news.

“Thank God,” he finally mumbled, turning back around to face you as he pulled you in close. You felt his grip tightly around your waist as he buried his face in the crook of your neck, sighing deeply.

“Plus, it’s not like he would pose much competition anyways,” you added, laughing softly as you wrapped your arms around him. He only hummed in response, not saying much more. You pecked the top of his forehead, relishing the fact that you had finally managed to heal his mood. After all, whilst acting was your job, you knew that at times like this - away from any cameras and in the comfort of your boyfriend’s arms - none of it was an act.

[syuga-s]

i made my fiancés tinder profile

w.c. 8.5k pairing. non-idol!jeon jungkook x fem!reader genre. cute and angsty friends to lovers <333 a/n. idk guys i wrote this like a month ago but I JUST GOT THE ENERGY TO POST IT so i apologize in advance if you find mistakes here and there, ALSO i made the playlist that inspired me to make this fic so i'll just leave it here if you want to give it a listen or save it don't look at my other playlists tho they're a mess 🦦

You always thought you were pretty good at giving dating advice. It’s easier when you’re not the one doing the dating, right? That’s how it all started with Jungkook. You two were chilling at your apartment one lazy Sunday afternoon when you suddenly blurted out, “Why are you still single, Jungkook? You’re amazing, good-looking, and fun. You should at least be on like three different dating apps.”

He laughed, running a hand through his hair in that effortlessly cool way he always did. “Dunno' just haven’t found the right person,” he said with a smile that made you heart do a weird little flip. “I don’t think I’m good at dating, haha.”

“You’re ridiculous,” you shot back, sitting up. “Let's make you an account. We’ll get you some matches in no time.”

He hesitated for a second, then shrugged. “Sure, let's do it.”

And that’s how you ended up setting up his profile, not realizing that this would be the beginning of the end of your denial and the start of a love story you never saw coming.

You grabbed his phone and he settled onto the couch next to you. “Okay, first things first. We need some killer photos. Let’s start with your main picture.”

You opened the camera app. You sat there, looking at his phone for a minute before he let out a loud laugh.

You looked up. “What is it?"

He grinned, pointing at something behind you. "It's just Tae taking a picture of us setting up a dating profile," Jungkook said, chuckling.

You turned around to see Taehyung standing in the doorway, holding his phone up with a huge grin on his face. "Don't mind me," Taehyung sang out, winking at the two of you. "Just capturing this for posterity."

Tae showed Jungkook the picture and a fit of laughter erupted again, now from the two of them. "Your face! You look so focused and super serious right now."

Rolling your eyes, you lightly smacked his arm. "This is serious business! We need to find the perfect picture to reel in all the potential matches."

Then you started browsing through his photo gallery to curate the most attractive selection of pictures.

There you had him on the gym doing weights, him on his boxing gear, with his dogs, him doing the dishes with a strangely tight black shirt, a few selfies on his car, with his motorcycle. You could sell a whole album with his photos, how on earth would you do him justice and only choose 10 of them?

"Why is this so hard?"

Jungkook chuckled. "Because you're not choosing photos for a profile, you're trying to find a reason to stare at me and my body for too long."

"Boy, I'm trying to help you here, and if I'm gonna do it, I might as well do this like a professional matchmaker." You retorted.

His eyebrows furrowed. "When have you ever paired someone up?"

You smiled smugly. "That's none of your business, Jeon."

"It is, actually, since you're helping me with this thing."

"Fine, if you must know, I hooked up one my friend's older sister with my college roommate."

"Really? How did that go?" He asked, curious.

"Pretty well, they've been together for a couple years now." You answered, still going through his photos.

"Wasn't your college roommate that guy with the blue hair?" He asked, his tone changing slightly.

"Uh-huh, why?"

"Wasn't he the guy you were dating during our third year?"

"Oh yeah, I forgot about that."

"How can you forget about him?" He sounded annoyed. "You spent an entire week crying in my bed because he broke up with you."

"Oh my god, did I? I don't recall." You were playing dumb, of course you remembered but there was no need to talk about that. "What do you think of this one?" It was a shirtless picture, point blank.

"I think you look kinda slutty but everyone's gonna eat it up, you'll get a date in no time." You continued.

"I am not posting a shirtless picture, are you crazy?" He snatched the phone from your hand.

"Well, it's not like we're gonna sell the damn picture, it's just your torso and the picture is really nice, you look good, I don't know why you're making such a fuss."

He didn't say anything, just looked at you.

"What? I'm complimenting you, it's the truth." You rolled your eyes.

"Okay, thank you." He was blushing.

"Are you blushing?" You asked, amused.

"No, it's just really hot in here." He took off his hoodie, throwing it somewhere in your living room.

You didn't even realize how close he was sitting next to you. It wasn't like it was the first time he'd been on your couch, but something felt different today. It was strange.

All the photos that you chose showcased different aspects of Jungkook's personality. Each photo told a story about him - his love for his dogs, his passion for staying active, his playful side with silly selfies. As you scrolled through his gallery, you couldn't help but notice the genuine smile on his face in many of the pictures, a smile that seemed to light up the whole world.

After him putting up a fight on choosing his favorite photos of him, next you had to write him something for his bio.

Jungkook leaned in closer to read over your shoulder.

"This is stupid, what do you want me to write? My name, my age, my occupation?" He was whining.

"Yes, those things obviously, but also things like, I don't know a joke or something to sum up your personality. I want them to know you're fun and cute, mind-blowingly good at everything, something along those lines."

"I am mind-blowingly good at everything." He said, his tone confident.

You rolled your eyes.

"So let's say, what if I write 'shit i'd date the hell out of me', you like it?" You asked him with a smile.

He laughed. "I do, I really do."

"Okay, it's settled." You wrote down the phrase, and a bunch of things about him.

"Now we just have to add something that will hook them up."

"Like what?"

"I don't know, just be honest. Just, don't write that you're looking for a girl to have sex with."

"But I am looking for a girl to have sex with." Blank expression on his face.

"You are so dumb sometimes." You threw a pillow at his face.

He caught it mid-air. "God, you know I'm not look— this was YOUR IDEA IN THE FIRST PLACE!" He yelled, trying to defend himself.

"Yeah, but, just write something that will make you look not like a manwhore."

He thought for a moment. "I know, I got it."

"Okay, shoot."

"I'm a manwhore." He had the brightest smile.

"Oh, for the love of..." You couldn't help but laugh at his antics. "Alright, fine. If that's what you want to go with, who am I to stop you?"

You two were done, and he was already getting notifications.

"Woah, that was... surprisingly fast." He was surprised, and you were proud of yourself.

"Of course, you're hot and cute. We don't see your type in dating apps very often."

He gave you a weird look, you couldn't quite figure out. "Thanks?"

"No worries, I'm sure you'll find someone in no time." You patted him on the back as you were getting up and ready to go to the kitchen and make some dinner. "See who you like and I'll help you on how to ask them on a date."

"Okay." He smiled.

"What are you smiling at? Are you looking at them already?"

"Yeah, I'm trying to see which one of these girls will be our first victim."

"Don't call them victims." You laughed.

The truth is that Jungkook only agreed to this because he loves spending time with you.

As you busied yourself in the kitchen, Jungkook couldn't shake the warmth spreading through his chest. He scrolled through the notifications on his phone, half-heartedly swiping left and right. His mind wasn't on finding a date; it was on you.

He couldn't believe he agreed to this. Making a profile on Tinder just to humor the best friend he was in love with, seemed harmless at first, but now, seeing the app light up with potential matches, he felt burdened. He wasn't here to date. He was here because he wanted to be closer to you, even if it meant pretending to search for someone else.

Each time a new message popped up, he found himself wondering if you'd approve. Would you laugh at the cheesy pickup lines together? Would you help him craft witty responses? He realized he didn't care about meeting any of these girls; he only cared about spending time with you.

But as much as he tried to focus on the dating app in front of him, his thoughts kept drifting back to you. To the way you laughed and teased him, to the way you always seemed to know what he needed even when he didn't realize it himself. Jungkook found himself longing for something he couldn't quite name, a feeling that stirred deep within him whenever he was near you.

He sighed, setting his phone down on the coffee table as he leaned back on the couch because he didn't bother looking through any of the profiles. Instead he made his way to the kitchen, where you were standing over a pot, stirring absentmindedly.

He stepped up behind you, watching as you stirred. His chest was warm, and he had a strange urge to wrap his arms around you and nuzzle his nose into your neck.

"Hey," he said, his voice soft.

You turned your head slightly, not looking at him but smiling. "Hey."

Jungkook took a step closer, placing his hand over yours. "Let me help," he said.

You handed him the wooden spoon, your fingers brushing against his in the exchange. He stirred the pot gently, mirroring the way he wanted to handle your heart. Neither of you spoke, the only sound filling the room was the clinking of utensils against the pot.

"You okay there?" Your voice broke through his daydreaming.

He answered you softly while running a hand through his hair nervously. "Yeah, just... thinking."

As the aroma of the dish wafted through the air, you felt his warmth seeping into you, comforting and familiar. You couldn't ignore the heavy tension that hung between you, thick like a fog.

He cleared his throat, breaking the spell. "So... what do we do now?" His voice was low, almost a whisper.

You turned around to face him, his eyes searching yours for answers neither of you dared to voice. "We eat dummy," you said with a laugh.

You and Jungkook sat down for dinner, the tension from earlier still lingering between you. As you ate, you caught each other stealing glances when the other wasn't looking.

"So...have you looked at any of the matches yet?" you asked, trying to break the silence.

Jungkook shifted in his seat. "A few, but no one really caught my eye," he said evasively.

You nodded, poking at your food. "Well if you see anyone you like, let me know. I want to help."

"Thanks, I will," Jungkook said with a small smile.

You returned the smile weakly, a pang in your chest at the thought of Jungkook dating someone else. You had pushed the feelings down for so long, not wanting to jeopardize your friendship. But your dumb decision of making him a dating profile forced you to confront how you really felt.

After you finished eating together, Jungkook helped you with the dishes. You dried off your hands, and he was ready to leave. Almost as if he was on a rush.

"Thanks for making dinner," he said with a smile.

You nodded. "Of course, you know I love having you over."

You stood at the door awkwardly, not knowing what to say.

Jungkook cleared his throat. "I'll text you," he said.

You gave him a thumbs-up, your voice coming out more high-pitched than normal. "Yeah, cool. See ya later."

He chuckled and leaned down to give you a hug. You wrapped your arms around him, breathing in his scent. You held him a little longer than necessary, wanting to memorize the feeling of his arms enveloping you.

Jungkook's hand lingered on your shoulder as he pulled away.

"Goodnight," he said softly, his thumb brushing against your cheek before he turned to leave. You watched him go, feeling a mix of emotions swirling inside you. As the door closed behind him, you leaned against it, aching with the realization that you might have just pushed away the one person who meant more to you than just a friend.

If only you had the courage to do something.

The following week, you found yourself cleaning your house, the mess had piled up and you had a bunch of your clothes all over the place and that's when you found Jungkook's hoodie from last week. It had fallen between your couch and the wall, so you pulled it out with a considerable amount of force. That's when his iPod fell to the ground.

He still uses this thing? The corners of your mouth turned up involuntarily as you recalled teasing him about the ancient device.

You were surprised, most people uses their phones, or maybe he still has this thing because it was a present from you. If you hadn't seen it you wouldn't have remembered that you had given him this iPod for Christmas like 7 years ago.

You took the device in your hand and turned it on. You figured it would be nice to hear his playlists while you kept cleaning.

You should have just connected it and played it on shuffle. But I guess humans are very nosey creatures. Creatures who love to go through someone else's things, just to see another hidden side of said person.

So, like any other normal human being, you opened his lists, and started to go through them.

"Golden mix", "Euphoria", "OST's". Those were pretty standard. "Lonely nights" a bit of a stretch, "Best of the 00s", "Dance party" and "Songs to sing along". Fork found in kitchen. And there was one more playlist that caught your attention.

Simply labeled with— "Your name."

Your heart started beating faster. What is this?

You opened the playlist and you were welcomed by a list of what it seemed like... love songs.

The first one was "Best Friend". You didn't know what to think. Why did he have a playlist with songs like "Kiss me" by Matt Maltese, "Mountains" by Charlotte Day Wilson, "Making Time" by Rex Orange County. All love songs.

Then it hit you. He's in love.

You started panicking. Your heart racing with thoughts you couldn't ignore any longer. The playlist named after you echoed in your mind.

You couldn't believe it. Jungkook, your best friend, the one who always seemed so casual and carefree, had a playlist dedicated to you filled with love songs. Your mind raced as you tried to process this new information. Was it possible that he felt the same way you did? That the tension between you wasn't one-sided after all?

You sat down on the couch, still holding his iPod in your hands. The weight of it felt heavier now, as if it held all the unspoken words and emotions that had been swirling between you and Jungkook. You couldn't bring yourself to put it down; instead, you scrolled through the playlist again, each song title tugging at your heartstrings.

A sense of warmth washed over you, mingled with fear and uncertainty. What should you do now? Should you confront Jungkook about the playlist, lay all your cards on the table and risk changing everything between you? Or should you keep quiet, pretend you never stumbled upon this precious list?

You knew there was something going on, you weren't stupid. But you couldn't bring yourself to accept the possibility that the guy you love, might like you back. It's easier to pretend like nothing is happening. You have built this whole imaginary life with him in your head, but not once did you consider that it might be a two-way street.

"I already said I'm in love with you Can't you hear me? Why do you act like you don't? You know well the spark in my eyes when I look at you Can't you see it? Why do you act like you don't?"

You had been listening to the song on repeat for an hour. It was stuck in your head. Your heart was aching.

The reality was finally sinking in.

"He's in love with me," you whispered to yourself, the realization hitting you like a tidal wave. It explained so much—his kindness, his attentiveness, even his willingness to go along with making a stupid profile for a stupid dating app. But you had built walls around your heart, afraid to acknowledge the possibility that your feelings were reciprocated.

You felt a surge of emotions, a mix of joy and fear swirling inside you. Jungkook's unspoken confession through his playlist left you feeling exposed and vulnerable, yet strangely hopeful.

"Falling" played softly through the speakers, its lyrics painting a picture of longing and uncertainty. It mirrored your own inner turmoil, the battle between fear and listening to your heart for once.

You had spent so long convincing yourself that this was just a friendship, that any romantic thoughts were one-sided. Now, faced with the truth, you didn't know what to do next. Should you tell Jungkook? Should you pretend you never saw the playlist?

Your mind raced with questions, but deep down, you knew you couldn't ignore this any longer. Jungkook's feelings were out in the open, laid bare through these songs that said a lot about his emotions.

Taking a deep breath, you closed your eyes and let the music wash over you. Each melody, each lyric felt like a confession, a plea for you to see what had been in front of you all along.

"I already said I'm in love with you," the lyrics repeated in your mind, echoing the words you longed to hear from Jungkook himself.

The weight of the situation settled over you. You constructed the exact same playlist on your own phone, replaying it endlessly, searching for answers in the same songs he had chosen. It became a ritual, a way to understand what Jungkook hadn't yet said aloud. Each track felt like a message, a confession hidden in plain sight.

As days passed, the playlist became a lifeline, a connection to Jungkook that transcended words. You wondered if he knew the impact his secret gesture had on you, if he realized how deeply you analyzed each song, each lyric, each subtle hint of affection.

It was as if the playlist had become a conversation between your hearts, a silent dialogue that spoke volumes about your unspoken emotions. You couldn't deny the truth any longer—the love you felt for Jungkook had bloomed quietly, nurtured by his unwavering presence in your life and it reflected in the selection of songs carefully chosen by him.

And so you continued to listen, to immerse yourself in the music that spoke of love and longing. It was a soundtrack to his emotions, a testament to the unspeakable love that had grown between you and him.

The guys had planned a small gathering at your house. Hoseok, Jimin and Tae arrived at the same time around 8:00 p.m. with food, drinks and Cards Against Humanity. They were already having fun when they rang the bell.

"Hey," you said as you opened the door.

"Hey!" they greeted you.

You all headed towards the living room and they placed the things they brought on the table.

You chuckled, feeling a wave of warmth at their enthusiasm. "Thanks for coming, guys. I've got the place ready—cleaned up only for you the other day," you teased, motioning towards the neatly arranged living room.

As you all settled in, chatting and unpacking the snacks and games, there was a noticeable absence. Jungkook hadn't arrived yet, and though you tried not to dwell on it, his absence didn't go unnoticed by your friends.

"Where's Jungkook?" Tae finally asked, voicing the question that lingered in the air.

You shrugged nonchalantly, though your heart skipped a beat at the mention of his name. "Not sure. He said he might be a bit late."

Hoseok raised an eyebrow, exchanging a knowing look with Jimin. "Didn't he say he was gonna meet with someone from Tinder?"

"Tinder?"

"You know, the dating app," Tae chimed in, taking a bite of a snack.

"I know what Tinder is Tae,” you replied with a laugh, trying to keep your cool.

"So you didn't know he was on a date?"

"No, he didn't tell me. Are you serious? He's on a date right now?" Your voice came out louder than expected, and you cursed yourself for the slip.

Jimin frowned, concerned. "Are you okay, Y/N?"

You waved dismissively, trying to downplay the hurt and disappointment. "Yeah, all good... well, more food and games for us until he gets here."

You tried to push down the gnawing feeling of jealousy that threatened to surface at the thought of Jungkook on a date with someone else. The idea of him with another person stirred up emotions you had been trying so hard to accept the past days. You forced a smile as you joined in the banter and laughter, attempting to bury your own conflicting emotions.

Despite their casual remarks, you couldn't shake the unease settling in your stomach. You hoped Jungkook would arrive soon, eager for his presence to dispel the nervous tension building within you.

The minutes ticked by, filled with laughter and infinite jokes over Cards Against Humanity. Each time the doorbell rang, you found yourself tensing, hoping it was him. But each time, it turned out to be someone else—a delivery person, one of your neighbors...

As the evening progressed, you couldn't help but steal glances at your phone, checking for any messages from Jungkook. But you decided not to keep waiting and decided to send him a text first.

'whats taking you so longggggggg' it read.

He replied instantly. 'i'm outside, coming now'

You put down your phone, your heart pounding. A few seconds later, you heard familiar footsteps approaching and there was a knock on the door. You got up, heading towards the door.

"He's here!" Tae exclaimed, a grin spreading across his face as he jumped up to answer the door with you.

You held your breath as Jungkook stepped inside, a sheepish smile on his lips as he greeted everyone. His eyes met yours briefly, and for a moment, the world seemed to slow down.

"Sorry I'm late guys," Jungkook said, setting down a bag of drinks next to Tae's.

Jimin smirked teasingly. "Lost track of time, huh?"

Jungkook chuckled nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. "Haha nah,"

Absolutely not. It was a disaster. Why did I agree to this? She seemed nice enough online, he thought, but in person... It just wasn’t there. The conversation felt forced, and I couldn’t wait for it to end. He grimaced, recalling how he struggled to find common ground and forced a laugh at her jokes. I should've been with y/n tonight, helping her get everything ready for this.

Of course, all of that stayed in his head. He was embarrassed to tell everyone how much he hated meeting someone new. It would just give your friends the opening to tease him more about it.

"Well, you made it, and we're all here now. So let's start" you suggested, breaking the silence.

His eyes sought out yours, finding a mix of emotions reflected back at him—surprise, curiosity, and something he couldn't quite place.

Everyone nodded in agreement and moved to gather around the coffee table, pulling your cushions closer.

With Jungkook's presence, the gathering felt complete, as if a missing piece had been found.

And as you all laughed and played into the night, you couldn't ignore the way Jungkook's gaze lingered on you, a silent reassurance of the feelings you'd been trying to suppress.

"I'm going to take a photo of this." Tae announced, lifting up his beer.

You and the others followed suit, holding your drinks up and smiling. Jungkook on your right got closer to you for the picture, cheek to cheek, his scent surrounding you. You wanted to lean in and practically inhale him.

"Perfect." Tae snapped the shot, and then showed it to the group. "What do you think, everyone?"

Everyone agreed that it was a good photo.

"We all look great," Tae said.

"But not as good as those two," Hoseok joked.

You rolled your eyes. "Please."

"It's true," Hoseok insisted. "You guys look good together."

Jimin nodded, taking another sip of his drink. "They're right. You’d make a cute couple."

Jungkook felt shy at their words. It's not like he was trying to hide his feelings for you, but he hadn't exactly made his intentions known, either. It was frustrating, wanting to be closer to you but not knowing how.

At least it was encouraging to know that your closest friends were seeing you both that way. That meant he had hope, right?

"Okay, that's enough," you said, feeling your cheeks heat up. "Let's keep playing."

As the game resumed, the group's attention shifted back to the cards.

You cleared your throat, shifting awkwardly on the cushion. "So... how was your date?"

Jungkook winced, not meeting your eyes. "It was okay," he said, his tone lacking enthusiasm.

You bit your lip, curiosity gnawing at you. "Just okay? What happened?"

Jungkook shook his head, still not meeting your gaze. "I don't know. It just didn't feel right, I guess."

You tilted your head, searching his face. "What do you mean?"

Jungkook shrugged, a sheepish expression on his face. "It was just... awkward. We didn't really click. I don't know."

Your chest tightened, a mix of emotions swirling inside. "Oh," you managed, turning back to the game. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be." He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I'm not good at this kind of thing, you know? Meeting new people, going on dates. It's hard for me. I'd rather be with people I already know and trust."

You knew what he meant. The same went for you. It was hard enough trying to navigate your feelings without having to worry about other people, too.

You nodded, giving him a small smile. "I get it."

"I just wish it could be easier, you know? Like, finding someone you actually like who happens to also like you back, and not having to worry about anything else. Just enjoying each other's company."

Your breath caught, your mind reeling from his words. And from the way he was looking at you, you could tell he wasn't just talking about friendship.

"Why would you say something like that?" you questioned, the words tumbling out before you could stop them.

Jungkook's brow furrowed in confusion. "What do you mean? Say something like what?"

"That you wish you could be with someone who actually likes you and not have to worry about anything else."

"I... because it's true. I don't want to go on stupid dates anymore, I want to be with someone I care about. Someone I can laugh and have fun with."

You swallowed, your pulse quickening.

"Someone like who?"

Jungkook exhaled, a nervous smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "I think you know who," he said quietly.

You stared at him, speechless, as his words sunk in. Your heart was racing, your body buzzing with adrenaline.

Hoseok, who had been unusually quiet, suddenly made himself heard, "I think I'm stuck in your bathroom!"

You and Jungkook turned to find your friend, who sounded flustered and slightly panicked. Jimin and Tae burst into laughter, trying to contain themselves as Hoseok continued to tug at the bathroom door.

"What do you mean you're stuck?" Jimin managed to ask between giggles.

Hoseok yelled helplessly. "I went in to use the bathroom, and now the door won't open!"

Jungkook glanced at you with a bemused smile, the tension from earlier dissipating with the absurdity of the situation. "Seriously, Hobi?" he chuckled.

Hoseok sounded exasperated. "It's not funny! How am I supposed to get out of here?"

"I'll go get some tools," Tae offered, still chuckling as he headed towards the kitchen.

You stepped closer to the bathroom door, trying to assess the situation. "It's just stuck. Let me try," you suggested, reaching for the handle and giving it a firm tug.

To everyone's surprise, the door swung open easily, revealing Hoseok looking both relieved and slightly embarrassed. "Oh, thanks, I swear it was stuck…"

Jimin clapped Hoseok on the back, still laughing. "Sure it was, Hobi. Sure."

The rest of the evening passed by in a blur of laughter and games, and despite the lingering awkwardness from earlier, you were glad that the night had gone well.

It was close to 2:00 a.m. when your friends finally began to call it a night, and you were exhausted.

"Thanks again for coming, everyone. I had a lot of funnnn," you said, giving them each a hug goodbye.

Jungkook was still on your kitchen helping you clean up all the mess you made. Drying the dishes and placing the glasses on your cabinets. You were cleaning up the table when he walked up to you.

"Need any help?"

"I'm done, thank you."

"Are you sure?"

"I am, thanks Kookie,"

You started walking towards your room when you heard him speak up.

"I really liked being here tonight."

"I know it was a lot of fun," you replied with a small smile. You grabbed his hoodie and his iPod to return them. Staring at the endearing device. Almost as if it were something fragile.

"I'm glad you had a good time," you responded as you walked back to the kitchen, handing him back his belongings. As you stood there in the dimly lit room, a comfortable silence settled between you. Jungkook's gaze was intense as he looked at you, his eyes searching yours for something unspoken.

Jungkook paused his moves, as if weighing his next words carefully. "I was thinking... maybe we could hang out again this week, just the two of us."

"What about the girl from Tinder?" you asked as you returned to face him, your tone sharper than you intended.

Jungkook frowned, confusion clouding his features. "What are you talking about? You know I went on one date. I told you it was a disaster."

You sighed, suddenly feeling foolish. "Yeah, I know, don't know why I asked that, haha" you muttered. "Didn't know you still used this thing,"

He smiled, his fingers brushing over the iPod. "I still love my music in here, you know, it sounds a lot better"

"Yeah, that's what I thought,"

He looked at you intently, and the air between you seemed to grow heavy.

"I've missed spending time with you, Y/N."

Your breath caught in your throat, your pulse quickening as you stared at him. "Me too," you whispered.

"So, is that a yes?"

"A yes to what?"

"The offer to hang out,"

"Oh, right. Um, yeah, sure. Sounds nice."

Jungkook's face lit up. "Cool. Well, I guess I'll see you later, then." With a final smile, he turned and left.

You watched him go and your mind was spinning. Jungkook's words echoed in your head, his words sending a flutter through your chest. You couldn't help but grin. Maybe there was hope for you two after all.

The following day, you woke up to the sun streaming in through your curtains, illuminating the room in a soft glow. You stretched lazily, savoring the warmth of your bed, before reluctantly climbing out and heading to the bathroom to wash up.

Unconciously, you began to shut yourself out. You had spent the whole night awake, thoughts about the possibility of being with your best friend swirling around your head, preventing you from falling asleep.

As you brushed your teeth, you heard your phone buzz. It was a text from him.

'Good morning'

A smile tugged at your lips, butterflies erupting in your stomach.

'good morning'

'can we go out today? im craving pizza'

You bit your lip, considering the invitation. A part of you was eager to see him, but another part was worried that it might be awkward, especially after the scenarios you created in your head last night.

You ended up refusing to go out with him. And he started to get anxious. He thought he may have done something wrong. That you were actually angry for going on a date or that you no longer wanted him to be part of your life just because he went out with someone else.

Jungkook started panicking.

And so, he called the guys.

"I don't know, she's just not acting normal." he sighed.

"Did something happen the other night?" Hoseok asked, concerned.

"No, I don't think so. She didn't say anything to me,"

"So why is she mad at you?"

"I have no idea. I was hoping maybe you had an idea,"

"Did she say she was mad at you?"

"Not directly, but she didn't want to go out today,"

"Well, I'm not surprised. She's probably just tired,"

"Tired?"

"Yeah, from work and all that, she's probably exhausted. I'm sure it's nothing."

"Do you think so? You don't think she's mad at me?"

"I really don't think she is. She'll probably just want to rest for a few days, and then things will go back to normal."

Your attitude changed so suddenly. You kept on cancelling on him. It’s been weeks.

"You have to talk to her, man," Jimin said.

"What do I say? How do I bring it up? Do I just ask her why she's been avoiding me? What if she doesn't know what I'm talking about?"

"Then ask her. Don't overthink it. Just say it."

Jungkook sighed, frustrated. "You make it sound so easy,"

"Look, I'm not gonna lie to you. It's probably gonna be awkward as fuck, but you can't let it get in the way of your friendship. You've been friends for so long, and it's obviously important to both of you. If she really is mad at you, then you need to find out what's going on. But if she's not, then you need to clear the air and move on. Because otherwise, this is just gonna keep getting worse and worse for you."

"Yeah, you're right. I'm just... worried, I guess."

"I know, but don't be. Everything’s fine. It’ll work out, especially if you let her know that you like her."

"What? Are you crazy? I can't just tell her that."

"Why not?"

"Because... what if she doesn't feel the same way?"

"So what if she doesn't? You'll never know unless you tell her. And if she does feel the same way, then you can finally stop being all sad and pathetic."

"You think she likes me?"

"Well, only she can tell you that, but you'll never know if you don't talk to her. So suck it up and go for it."

"Fine. I'll talk to her."

"Good."

"But... how do I tell her?"

"Just be honest. Tell her you've been worried that something is wrong, and you want to make sure everything is okay. Then let her know how you feel. But, be prepared for her reaction. If she doesn't feel the same way, it could make things weird. But you need to deal with it and move on."

That same day you were laying down in bed, scrolling through your phone. Reading over and over the lyrics of one particular song on the playlist.

"Is there a place for me? Is there a place for us? I can't tell you how much I love you, babe Open the door Open your heart Tell me how you're feeling, I miss you so bad I'm falling to pieces"

And just like that, your phone began vibrating, your heart beating rapidly as his name flashed across the screen.

"Hello?"

"Hey, are you free? Can we talk?"

"Uhm... sure, yeah. Now?"

"If it's okay, yes."

"Okay,"

"I'm coming up now."

"Wait, wha-..."

Jungkook was already at your door, knocking frantically. You opened it for him, your heart in your throat.

He stood before you, looking determined. His eyes were wide, his hair tousled, and he was out of breath, as if he had just run a marathon.

"Sorry, I was already on my way. I had to do it now. I have to say it, because otherwise, I won't have the courage to say it some other time,"

"Okay?"

He inhaled deeply, his eyes locked on yours.

"Y/N, I really, really like you. And I've been so confused and conflicted because I've always liked you, then I started thinking that maybe there was more. And then I realized there was. I really, really like you."

You swallowed hard, the words ringing in your ears.

"I-..."

"It's okay, I just wanted you to know,"

You shook your head, struggling to comprehend what he had just told you. "I'm sorry, I'm just..."

"I know, and I'm sorry. But I had to say it."

"So, does this mean... what are you saying exactly?"

Jungkook hesitated, running a hand through his hair. "Look, Y/N, I don't expect anything from you, and I don't want things to get weird. But I just had to tell you. I'm crazy about you."

You nodded slowly, processing his words. "uh. I-... uh."

"I know it's sudden, and I'm sorry. I just couldn't hold it in anymore. But I don't want anything to change, I promise. I'll just go, and we can forget this ever happened. We can go back to the way things were, I promise. I'm sorry,"

"Jungkook, stop apologizing. It's not a bad thing, I'm just... processing. I've never had anyone say they're crazy about me before," with your phone in your hand an idea immediately came to you.

"Can I show you something?" you asked him.

"What is it?"

You walked up to him, your phone in your hand. You handed him your device and let him see your screen. There it was, the infamous playlist.

Jungkook's doe eyes widened, a small gasp escaping his lips as he noticed. "What... is this...?"

"I went through your iPod when you left your hoodie last time," you told him with an embarrassed grin. "They’re the same songs you have on yours,"

"This is so embarrassing," he groaned, his cheeks red. "You... you went through my iPod?" Jungkook asked, now with a hint of amusement in his voice.

You nodded, feeling a mix of embarrassment and relief that he wasn't angry about it. "I was curious about the music you listen to. And I found… this,”

He stared at the playlist, then back at you, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "So... does that mean you... already knew how I felt?" Jungkook asked, hope flickering in his eyes.

Your heart raced at his words, a mix of excitement and uncertainty swirling inside you. Could this really be happening? Could your long-standing friendship truly be blossoming into something more?

"Jungkook," you began, your voice barely above a whisper. "I... I like you too. More than just a friend."

"So what does this mean? That we are supposed to be together?"

"Maybe, or maybe not. It could just mean that you have great taste in music and I admire it,"

Jungkook's eyes widened with hope, a grin spreading across his face. "I've been wanting to tell you for so long, but I was afraid of ruining everything between us."

You smiled, your heart fluttering. "Me too, I’m sorry for making you worry these past few days,"

"Can I hug you?" he asked, his voice trembling slightly.

You nodded, wrapping your arms around his neck.

Jungkook held onto you tightly, his arms snug around your waist. You rested your chin on his shoulder, closing your eyes and inhaling his familiar scent.

After a few moments, he pulled away slightly, his hands still resting on your hips.

He looked at you with a mix of relief and uncertainty in his eyes. "So, I didn't ruin anything between us?" he murmured softly.

You shook your head, a small smile playing on your lips. "You didn't ruin anything, Jungkook. If anything, you've made everything clearer."

His shoulders relaxed slightly at your words, a hint of a smile returning to his face. "I'm glad."

"I'm glad too," you began again, your voice steady but tinged with nervousness. "But I also want you to know that... I've been thinking a lot too."

Jungkook turned to face you fully, his expression a mix of anticipation and apprehension. "About...?"

"About us," you admitted softly, meeting his gaze. "About how much I enjoy spending time with you, about how much I admire you, and... how I've felt something more than just friendship for a while now."

His eyes widened slightly, hope flickering in them. "A while?”

You nodded, a shy smile playing on your lips. "Yes, Jungkook. A while. I've just been afraid to say anything because I didn't want to lose you in case you didn't felt the same way about me."

He stepped closer to you, his hand reaching out tentatively. "Y/N... I wish I had known sooner. I've been struggling with these feelings, not knowing if you felt the same way."

"I'm sorry for not saying anything earlier," you murmured, your fingers brushing against his. "But I'm glad we're talking about it now."

He squeezed your hand gently, his eyes never leaving yours. "Me too. More than anything."

There was a moment of silence between you, the weight of your shared emotions hanging in the air. Finally, Jungkook spoke again, his voice filled with determination.

"So... what do we do now?"

You chuckled softly, feeling a surge of affection for him. "I think we take it one step at a time. We've already taken a big step today."

He nodded, a smile spreading across his face. "Yeah, you're right. I'm just... really happy right now."

"Me too," you said, squeezing his hand.

"I guess the only question now is... are we... together together?" he asked hesitantly.

You grinned, your heart pounding in your chest. "Only if you want us to be,"

"Yes, yes, yes. Of course, yes,"

"Then it's settled. We're together," you giggled.

Jungkook laughed, the sound sending a warm feeling through your chest.

Cut to 4 years in the future.

There you were at a dinner with friends and family. It had been four years since you got together, but it felt like an eternity. You both were so excited for each other, for your life from now on.

"Hey, you got a little something," he whispered, brushing away a strand of hair from your cheek.

You couldn't help but smile, his touch as tender as ever. "Thanks,"

"No problem," he smiled.

Then you could hear someone clinking a glass. "A few words from the fiancé!" Jin's voice reverberated through the dimly lit restaurant.

"Y-yeah, yeah," your boyfriend stuttered, clearing his throat and standing up. He was a nervous wreck, and it was adorable.

"Um, first, thank you all for being here. It really means a lot to us. We know how important it is to have your loved ones around you on a special day, and we're so grateful for everyone who's supported us. Second, a special thanks to my future father and mother-in-law. Thank you for always being there for us and for supporting our relationship. And, um, thanks to my own parents for, uh, also supporting us."

As the guests began to laugh, your boyfriend cleared his throat and continued, his gaze fixed on yours.

"But most importantly, I want to say thank you to my amazing girlfriend. Thank you for making every day better. Thank you for always being by my side and for loving me unconditionall—"

"We know that already! Entertain us or I won't pay the bill!" Jin's loud voice interrupted again.

You couldn't help but chuckle and the guests laughed again, amused.

Your fiancé smiled, clearly enjoying the teasing.

"Alright, alright," Jungkook cleared his throat before he continued, "actually, we agreed that we'd never tell anyone how we actually got together but I guess we're past that, right babe?"

"Oh no, don't!" You blushed, a little embarrassed.

"It's a funny story," he continued. "It's kind of a long one, but this girl right here thought that the best course of action was to make me a dating app profile before telling me that she was in love with me."

Everyone burst into laughter.

"I was dumb, okay?" you joked, earning more laughter from the guests.

"So, we ended up talking to some people on said dating app and went on a few dates, which were terrible—"

"Hey! It's not my fault that you agreed even though you were also in love with me!" — "Everyone, he had a playlist with my name filled with sentimental songs like the most lovesick boy on Earth!"

"But babe trust me, it's a great playlist, by the way," you added.

"And then we got drunk, and the truth was revealed."

"What?! No way," Hoseok laughed.

"We weren’t drunk, I’m kidding, I just told her that I had liked her since the beginning," he said. "We just made a disaster, and we were both scared shitless."

"But here we are," you added.

"So, yeah, thanks for coming everyone," your fiancé concluded, his voice breaking a little as he wrapped up his little speech.

You could see him trying to blink back tears as he sat back down next to you, and you gave his hand a squeeze.

"You did great," you whispered, leaning in to give him a quick kiss.

"Thanks," he replied, his voice hoarse.

Your parents got up, taking the floor after him.

"Thank you, thank you," your mom said, a bit embarrassed.

"We’d like to share a few words as well. First, we'd like to thank everyone for coming. It's such a privilege to have all our family and friends here, and we're so thankful for your support. And we're especially grateful for our beautiful daughter and our soon-to-be son-in-law. We are so proud of both of you, and we know you'll have a long and happy life together."

"Thanks," you managed to say, overcome with emotion.

"So, now, we'd like to present the couple with a little something. It's just a small token of our love for them," your mother added, signaling for someone to come forward.

Jimin, Hoseok, and Tae stood up from the table and approached the stage, each of them holding a framed collage.

"Here, you can pass these out," your mother said, handing each of the guests copies of the photos.

You and your fiancé were stunned as the three guys presented the photos to you.

The photos were a collage of different memories: you and him during his graduation, another one from yours, a candid shot of him cooking for you, a photo of the two of you smiling in front of the sunset, and a picture of him holding your hand while you were asleep.

Tears welled up in your eyes as you took in the beautiful photos, each one capturing a special moment in your relationship. The love and happiness radiating from the images made your heart feel full to the brim. You glanced at Jungkook, whose eyes were also glistening with unshed tears, and you reached for his hand, holding it tightly.

"Thank you so much," you managed to say, your voice choked with emotion. "These are... perfect."

"I have a gift for you too," you told him, reaching under the table. You brought out a box wrapped in bright pink paper and a bow.

He looked at you with surprise, his eyes shining with curiosity as he took the box from your hands. Slowly unwrapping it, his mouth fell open in astonishment when he saw what was inside. Nestled within the box was a beautifully crafted watch, the silver band gleaming under the soft light of the restaurant.

"Oh wow," he breathed, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "It's... it's incredible."

"It's engraved," you whispered, pointing to the back of the watch where a message was etched. His eyes widened as he read the words: 'Forever yours, Y/N.'

"I was hoping you'd wear it to the wedding," you said, grinning. "But don't cry, you'll make me cry!" you exclaimed.

"I'm not crying, I just..." he trailed off, sniffling.

"I love it," Jungkook finally managed to say, his voice filled with emotion. He stood up abruptly and pulled you into a tight hug, “I love you.”

As you both separated, there was a collective 'aww' from the guests, making you both blush.

The rest of the evening continued with laughter and joy, surrounded by the love of friends and family. People danced, sang, and shared stories late into the night. It was a celebration of love and new beginnings.

As the night winded down and guests started to leave, you found yourselves standing alone in the dimly lit space. Jungkook wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you close.

"Thank you for everything today," you said sincerely, looking into his big brown eyes.

"Thank you for being mine," he replied softly, feeling overwhelmed with happiness.

"I wouldn't want to be anyone else's," you whispered, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips.

Jungkook cupped your face in his hands and placed a lingering kiss on your forehead. The world around you seemed to fade, leaving just the two of you in a bubble of the deepest affection you’ve ever felt.

[theemporium]

your mai tai (1) with luke hughes?

BTW congrats on 10k!! you deserve it so much💐

thank you for requesting!🫶🏽

1.touching foreheads

.

It had felt like a lifetime had passed since Luke had last seen you. 

It was actually six weeks but that was besides the point. 

He thought he would be fine. He thought time would pass quickly and the six weeks would pass in the blink of an eye. He thought he would be busy with his own summer plans in the lakehouse with his brothers and his friends that he wouldn’t have time to really miss you. 

It took a week into the summer break for him to realise his plan was absolute bullshit and he missed you a pathetic amount. 

Despite not joining the Devils until last season, Luke had met the team a fair amount over the years since Jack had been drafted. He had met Nico a fair amount of times. And in turn, he had met Nico’s little sister—you—a handful of times too. 

When Luke joined the Devils, he had no intention of falling in love with his captain’s sister but it was funny how the universe seemed to work.

However, between the two of you playing around your feelings and trying to deny the inevitable, it meant that you had only been dating for a few months by the time summer break came along. The relationship was still new and exciting and fresh—and it was vulnerable. You two had spent so long sabotaging the time you had together, and now you were going to be apart for almost two months. 

You wanted to go back home to Switzerland to see your family and friends. Luke wanted to do the same in Michigan. It had been a fairly easy decision to spend the summer apart, but it didn’t make either of you feel all too happy about the situation. 

Nor did it make any of Luke’s friends or family happy when the boy had spent the summer pathetically pining after you, pouty and angsty whenever he got the chance. By week three, everyone was counting down the days until you returned to Jersey. 

And the day had finally come. 

Luke had jumped at the chance to pick you up from the airport. You assured him you didn’t mind getting a taxi, that your flight landed at a god-awful time and you didn’t want to disturb his routine too much before training camp. He had just snorted and rolled his eyes in response. 

Now, it was somewhere after two in the morning, he was dressed in sweats and a hoodie and his body was practically buzzing on excitement and pure adrenaline as his eyes watched the arrivals gate like a hawk, waiting to see you. 

It felt like a weight had been lifted off his chest when he finally saw you. 

His feet were moving before he even realised, his eyes glued on your as he dodged through the group of other passengers before he finally reached you. He wound his arms around your body, pulling you as close as he could like he was scared you would disappear again. 

“I missed you so much,” he managed to murmur out, his eyes falling shut as he felt your arms wind around his torso, squeezing him close too. 

“Missed you too,” you whispered back, pulling back enough to see his face even though the boy whined a bit at the loss of contact. Your lips twitched upwards. “Jack wasn’t lying about you being whiny while I was gone.” 

Luke rested his forehead against yours, his arms still wrapped around you. “Don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

“Mhm,” you smiled up at him, playfully nudging your nose against his. “Let’s go home, I’m so tired I could pass out here.” 

His heart skipped a beat. “Home?” 

Your cheeks flushed but you didn’t look too embarrassed. “Yeah, Hughes, home. Preferably a bed. I missed sleeping next to you.” 

His smile widened. “Sounds perfect to me.”

Someone cleared their throat from behind them both. 

“You both know I’ve been standing here the whole time, right?” Nico deadpanned. “Luke’s my ride too.”

.

[soxcietyy]

hii, can i req a older bf + soft dom yuuta please?

Biker Yuta

Age gap, soft dom, Yuta being fine af in general

It was almost every night, the exact time at 1:30 am where a loud bike would pass by your house. It was so loud that it would wake you up from the deep slumber you where in.

At first you didn't think much about it when you first moved into your new house but now its been months and you kept hearing that loud bike zoom by. At some point you grew tired of it and decided tonight was the night you would confront whoever this selfish individual was. There was tones of roads that person could go on and he decided your street was the one to travel on every night? Did this person not have a job?

Grabbing your coat you slip it on and walk out in your pajama’s that consisted on small shorts and a tanktop. Checking the time on your phone you noticed it was five minutes till one. Walking out the door you stand by the mailbox with your arms crossed. The passing cars probably thinking that you weren't fully right in the head. After a few minutes of standing there you could hear the loud bike from a distance.

How where you supposed to get this person attention? you had no clue but decided to find out once it was time. As the bike got louder you step into the middle of the road. When the vehicle came into view you had to shut your eyes from how bright there headlights. Using your hand to cover your eyes from the light you could feel two hands grab you and pulled you to the side. With a gasp you turn around to see them?!

What was the biker doing here? shouldn't he be the one...

before you could finish that though a car zoomed by extremely fast. Then it hit you, you could of almost died mistaking that car for the biker.

"what are you doing in the middle of the road like that? you could of gotten hurt." A male voice said from behind that helmet.

"I thought it was you!" you say grabbing you heart that almost popped out of your chest

"Me? either way you shouldnt be doing that. Arnt you supposed to be in bed at this time?" He asks as he sat you down on his bike.

"yea i actually am but a loud bike likes to go through my neighborhood, waking me and everyone else up! Do you know how much sleep iv lost because of you?" you say angrily.

grabbing his helmet with both hands he slowly takes it off and shakes his helmet hair before looking at you. "Im sorry I didn't know i was bothering people with my late night rides." he says. "Im usually coming out of work at that time and well this is the way I go to make it home.

"Well how about being more quiet? I would hate for us to have issues." You put your hand on your hip.

"Issues? Now I don’t think that’s necessary. How about I make it up to you?" He mocks you by putting his hand on his hip too.

"How will you make it up to me? Do you know how much beauty sleep iv lost because of you?" You quirk your brow.

"Well before I even give you an answer I need to know about you such as name and age."

"My name is y/n and I’m nineteen." You answer.

"Seven years apart mmh, well how about you let me relieve all that stress you got pent up? If you know what I mean. My name is Yuta by the way." He places his helmet under his arm.

27 and he looks young? He’s also not bad looking at all. It wouldn’t hurt to try something with someone more experienced than you. "Sure but I would hate for your back to give out in the middle of it." You hum

"Hey I’m not that old, let’s see who’s back gives out first huh?" He chuckled as he followed you back to your shared house.

Your roommate was luckily out of town for the week so you had the whole house to yourself. It didn’t take long until he was over you. Smothering you with kisses and the string cologne he wore that smelled rich of leather. His bangs touching your forehead as they dangled over you. He still held his helmet in his hand before he dropped it so he could get a better hold of you.

The kisses were fast but deep. It was almost as if he was so desperate to get a taste of you. As he continued to kiss you his gloved hands snaked under your shirt and fondled your breast. You couldn’t lie and say he didn’t look fine with his blacked out gear. If you knew he looked like this you would have confronted him long ago.

Pulling you closer to him he removed your bottoms and his right hand glove. "Want me to teach you how a real grown man should treat a lady?" He whispers in your ear before sliding his fingers in you.

He long fingers bend and move around inside of you. He made sure to touch every spot causing you to throw your head back in pleasure. Biting your bottom lip you shake your head unconsciously. You didn’t even noticed when he crouched down and began to eat you out. That was until your legs began to shake uncontrollably.

"Yuta" you moan

Hmm? He Hums causing you to jolt from the sudden vibration. Why was he so good at this? Could it be his years of experience? Whatever it was you wanted to thank everything that made it possible for him to be with you tonight. He was eating you out so sloppily that the noises echoed in the room. His tongue glided side to side on your clit as his fingers moved in and out of you. You gripped his hair as you got closer to your orgasm. His other hand grabbed your thigh so you wound the able to escape his grasp.

When you started orgasming you moaned his name once again. Tears rolling down your face from how good it was.

Turning you over on your stomach you could hear him unbuckling his belt. Tilting your head back you could see him adjusting himself to your entrance.

"Arnt you going to take your clothes off?" You ask him wondering why he was fully clothed.

"Wouldn’t want to distract you from the main event." He smacks his hard member on your behind.

He then leaned over you and grabbed your face directing you to look at your pile of stuffed animals in a corner.

"Arnt you too old for those things?" He says amused.

"You can never be too old for stuffed animals" you mumble.

Without saying another word he slammed right into you. Your eyes widen at the feeling of being filled up. You don’t think you’ve ever had something this big inside of you. Squeezing your eyes shut you feel how he slides in and out of you smoothly.

"There you go, you’re taking me so well. Thought you would have been crying for me to stop." He says as he quickens his pace. You grip onto your blankets as he slams in and out of you. Each thrust getting deeper and harder. You could hear him breathing heavily next to you ear. You could also heard how the necklaces and chain that he wore cling together with every move. His non gloved hand moved under you and began to pull on your nipple as he continued with his pace.

"You just so cute." He says as he kisses your head, your cheek and your shoulder. "I think I’m gonna start bothering you even more if it mean we get to do this everytime." He mumbles. "Not going to lie I was having second thought about this but I’m so glad I went along. You feel so fucking perfect around my cock." He wraps his arms around your body and slams you all the way into him until he reached places you never thought were possible.

Your jaw drops as he doesn’t let go. Your eyes rolling back at this new painful yet pleasurable feeling. "Yuu" you cry out trying to catch your breath but him hearing you say his name like that turned a switch on for him. He fucked you while you were still being lifted up. Your feet not being able to touch the ground as he used you like his personal cock sleeve. You squirm in his arms being overwhelmed by everything but he held a tight grip on you. At some point you stopped trying and gave in. Your toes curling as you orgasmed once again coating his member in white.

"Easy now, just bear with me for a minute I’m almost there." He groans.

After a few more slams he finally finished inside of you.

He placed you back down slowly and collapsed on top of you. Breathing heavily, trying to catch his breath.

"Fuck, are you On birth control? Or do you need me to get you a plan B?"

[its-time-to-write]

for anyone else who needs comfort in the form of a sick fic. but written specially for @coloursofyen🩵

there for you

Jamie’s alarm goes off at precisely 3:26am, which is what he says is the optimal time to wake up for training with Roy. He rolls over and feels for your warm body on the other side of the bed, frowning when he feels nothing but the cold covers next to him. You’ve been out of bed for a while, then.

He sits up, and as he wipes the sleep from his eyes he notices a light coming from the en suite. Jamie hops out of bed and taps on the door.

“Babe? You alright?” he asks.

He’s met by a retching sound so he pushes open the door to find you kneeling in front of the toilet. Sweat makes strands of hair stick to your face, and your face is unnaturally pale. You blink blearily at him as he sits against the doorframe.

“I think I have a stomach bug,” you croak.

Jamie’s unable to stop a grin. “What makes you think that?”

You’re too tired and nauseous to flip him off. You’ve been awake for more than an hour, thinking first it might be something you ate. 

Then you remembered one of your coworkers called out sick earlier in the week, followed by your supervisor two days later. Seems like it’s your turn now.

You manage to get out, “It’s going around the office,” before turning your face back to the bowl.

Jamie makes a sympathetic face and moves to rub your back.

“I’m gonna get you some water, babe. You want anything else? Crackers? Toast? I think we have shit for soup later today, if you think you can keep it down,” he says.

“Roy,” you say, sticking to easy words.

Jamie gently pats your back. “Nah, don’t worry about him. He’ll be glad to have the morning off.”

“You have a match on Sunday,” you remind him. “You can’t catch this.”

Jamie disregards this and presses a kiss to the side of your head. “The lads’ll be fine without me. Give some second-teamer a chance to be on the pitch. Besides, it’s against Bournemouth.”

You make a face. Bournemouth is at the bottom of the league, and at the moment a match against them is essentially free points.

“It feels awful,” you rasp.

Jamie readjusts his position on the floor. “Babe, I’m a fucking… specimen. I’m like, so fucking healthy that viruses bounce right off me. I’m not gonna catch it.”

You shake your head and retch again. That’s what you had thought.

“Let me text Coach,” Jamie says. “I’ll sit here as longs as you need, or I can grab a bowl so you can go back to bed. Actually, let’s go to the guest room while I change the sheets in here, yeah? All hygienic, like. I can make mum’s special soup, think we’ve got everything for it. Can order it if not. Just don’t worry about it, alright? Your body’s a temple, or whatever fucking Lasso says.”

You crack a half-smile at that. For as much as Jamie loves football, he loves you more. Only slightly more, but you’ll take it. 

He says, “Come on, up you get,” and half-lifts you to a standing position. Once you’re settled in the guest bed with the tv on and a lime soda, he heads downstairs to figure out what you might be able to eat. He ends up bringing you toast, a banana, and a sleeve of crackers, then getting into bed next to you.

“Sheets are in the wash,” he says. 

“Don’t get too close to me,” you warn. “You’re going to catch this fucking bug.”

“Won’t,” he responds smugly.

“Will,” you argue.

“Won’t,” he repeats with such confidence that you wish Roy were still coming over to smack him down a little bit.

Will, you silently mouth.

—

That fucker doesn’t even get so much as a sneeze.

[burn-before-reading]

Love in the Time of Socialism

joost klein x artist!reader

art, mush, and ramblings about life

warnings: depression (ish), burnout, reader character in some vague mental health funk

word count: 2k

a/n: slight prequel to blue is the colour of your eyes but can be read as stand alone. just same artist reader. vaguely romantic but just ramblings and getting feelings out haha. started this when I was in more of a bad mental state (lol) but im fine now so it got kinda tame by the end of it. still not proofreading anything

title from the song Love in the Time of Socialism by Yellow House

Rpf below the cut—

Normally Joost has to call you because its the only way you will actually look at your phone. Its more often that not you find yourself fixated on planning out your next project, and your friends have to force you back into reality. There was that one time no one had heard from you in over a week and thought you were dead, when you were just working. You hadn’t realized how many texts you missed and apologized for scaring your friends half to death. Especially Joost.

So now you leave your ringer on, and now they call.

Tonight, however, Joost calls and you aren’t in your studio. You are in your bed, where you have been for the entire day. and also most of yesterday. There isn’t a reason in your head specifically why this has happened. you MEANT to get up. Theres a list of chores and things to do just sitting on your desk, but you woke up late, so now nothing will get done. At some point it just became too stressful to even get up and look at it. You roll over and stare at the contact picture of him, smiling with some dumb fish eye lens he thought was funny. You debate not picking up at all.

But you can’t ignore him.

“Hi Joost.” your voice came through the phone more hoarse than intended when you answered, you don’t remember the last time you talked to someone. “Whats going on?”

“the others wanted to go out for drinks tonight, you hadn’t responded so I wanted to check you were joining us.” You could imagine him rocking back and forth on his heels in the middle of his living room while he talked, it was either that or pacing around.

“uhh..” Drinks at a bar was the last thing on your mind. In any other situation you would have loved to be around your friends, but right now you just needed to avoided as much as possible. “Not a good night, tonight. Sorry, I’ll have to join you guys next time.”

Joost felt like something was off, you sounded tired. “Is everything okay?”

“I’ll be fine I just… shit brain day. bad brain thats all. It happens.” You did your best to summarize how you felt without actually admitting anything, you weren’t sure how to explain anything anyway.

“ Oh Im sorry, would it be good, if I came over? I can keep you company, if thats okay?”

“you don’t have to, I’ll be fine tomorrow. I want you to have fun. ” you insisted, but he pressed on.

“I don’t mind, the group would understand. Have you eaten today?”

“Like… a meal? yes, or well, no. I had a soda..” You glance at the half drunk soda from the night before, now flat. “and uhhh..”

“I’ll pick something up.” You could hear him on the other end gathering things together, keys, wallet, probably his ipad.

“.. thank you. I’ll see you in a bit, I guess.”

-

Joost knocked on your door about an hour later. In that time you were able to get out of bed and make your way to the bathroom to change and make yourself somewhat presentable in front of a guest, and to the kitchen to make coffee despite it being 8pm.

You opened it to see Joost with a sheepish smile as he extends his arms out for a hug. “Hi.”

“Hi Joost.” you take the step to hug him, feeling his body heat contrast with the cold nighttime. “I’m glad you’re here.” the two of you head inside to your living room where he empties his bag of take out to reveal a couple different thai dishes and egg rolls. It was hard to not admit you weren’t at least a little bit hungry.

The two of you ate in mostly silence, making small talk about different projects you two have going on, or the fact that the two of you were in between projects. He done with touring for the time being and in the process of working on a new album. You loosely avoiding talking about any current work plans but mentioned one or two paintings you finished for a private gallery commission last month.

“ Just some paintings of animals and nature-ish symbolism. Honestly my heart wasn’t really in that one, but it payed the rent so.” you shrug and shove noodles into your mouth.

“Well now you have the time to work on your own stuff, right?” he commented, leaning back into your couch and looking down at you sitting on the floor instead of any of your own furniture. “Draw whatever your heart desires.”

“I mean I guess.. Im just glad to be done with the oil paints for now. I swear i think I was gonna die in my studio from all the chemicals. I dunno, I finished that whole project last month, I haven’t really been very productive since then.” you trail off and Joost gets a concerned expression on his face.

He sinks down from his spot of the couch to join you in the floor. The fluffy rug brushing against his legs as he adjusts his new sitting position.

“Its okay to take a break, you know.”

“I know I know, I just get frustrated. I never seem to have my energy directed towards the right thing. Whenever I have all those big projects from other contractors, I can brainstorm and think of all these interesting ideas I wanna work on, but I can’t because then I would get behind on the art Im being paid to do.”

“mhm.” he nods, to indicate he’s following along.

“ And then whenever Im done with those projects, I just get… tired. and my focus is gone. and Everything just feels…” you gesture the last bit with your hands, scrambling your fingers, to imply your thoughts. You aren’t looking at him, but you can still see him nodding in your peripherals. Joost always seemed to understand your thinking and explanations to things, even if you thought they were messy.

“Do you want to try painting right now?” he asks. you just shrug your shoulders.

“I don’t know what I would paint.”

“You can paint our dinner, or, or yourself, or your plants maybe?” he suggested and stands up. “Can I paint too?”

“Oh we’re actually doing this?” Not that you didn’t want to, but this self doubt had creeped into your mind again. That failing to produce something decent would prove that you’ve lost all your talent, your skill.

“yea we can have a little painting party!” he chimed, but he hesitated walking over to your studio to grab stuff, still giving you the space to reject his idea.

you looked away and started nervously tapping your fork against the table.

tap tap tap tap

“…sure. We can use my watercolors, Ive been wanting to use them more often anyway.”

the coffee table became a little more cluttered as you set up the paints for the two of you. Joost using an old set 24 pans and you using a newer set of watercolor tubes you were gifted last year and never opened. You watched as Joost immediately dipped his brush in water and started activating the blue paints, spreading it onto his paper in big random strokes.

“what are you painting?”

“not sure yet, maybe im painting you.” he looks up and smirks. you scrunch your nose up.

“why are you using so much blue. am I a smurf?” you joke and he just shrugs and points to your own paper.

“Just mess around, can’t be any worse than what im doing.”

tap tap tap tap tap tap

you fidget with your own brush for a few seconds lo get before grabbing a big mop brush and wetting your paper with clean water. Taking your smaller brush again, you pour out a small amount of yellow and mix it up with some more water. You hesitate for a moment longer before letting the brush lightly touch the surface, creating a burst of colour on the paper as the colour seeps onto the page. You make a few more random marks before switching to another warm colour and repeating the process, now watching the colours bleeds and mix into each other. You look at Joost paper and see that he is actually now trying to paint you, the blue fortunately was able to be mostly contained to the background.

“Do you ever think about what you would do if you weren’t a musician?” you ask.

“I dunno I think after this I could have a pretty successful art career.” he teases but sees in your face the question is more serious. “I don’t know. I started off with youtube, but if I wasn’t doing that… its hard to think about what my life would be like if I didn’t follow this path.”

“I always have this feeling deep down, that I made a wrong choice somewhere along the line. I was thinking about going to school for psychology, I also wanted to work with animals at one point, be a vet. I enjoy art, don’t get me wrong, but I just worry that in making it my job Ive just drained all the passion I had for it.”

You let the paper dry before staining the page with lines of dark burgundy, creating hands and a human heart. he hums as he listens, not adding anything, but simply letting you vent. beginning to piece together your mood from earlier. “I don’t have any jobs lined up right now, which is what Ive been waiting for, to work on my own stuff, yknow? I haven’t had the time ive wanted to make something for myself for a while. But now I just feel, I feel like ive been frozen.”

“things seem to be okay right now. I like what youve made. ” you look down and see the scribbles youve made with your paint. hands clasped over a broken heart. you shrug and smile softly, signing the bottom.

“Just a scribble, you can have it if you want.” You hand the paper over to him. “thank you for coming by, its… its nice being around you. Helps a bit.”

Joost takes the paper and studies it for a second. “I really like it, maybe I should come by more often.”

“If you bring the food we can have art nights whenever you want.” he holds up his paper. The blue bleeding into your skintone and hair since he didn’t wait for anything to properly dry. “I might stick to my ipad though, I don’t know why you like this paint.” he scrunches his nose at it. you laugh and it makes him smile.

You notice for the first time how bright his eyes look when he smiles, but you brush the thought away.

-

“Feeling a bit better?” he asks as he lingers by the door on his way out.

“a bit. like I said It was just a mood, I was gonna be fine tomorrow most likely… I still appreciate you coming over.”

“Don’t ever be afraid to call or text okay? Im always here to talk if you need. or just to listen.”

“definitely. Ive been meaning to uh, talk to someone about all this stuff anyway, you’re not a professional but ill keep it in mind.”

he grins and goes in for one last hug. you feel him slightly squeeze you and linger a little longer than usual before letting go. With one last glance he waves and head off. You see him pull out a cigarette for the walk back. It takes you a second to close the door. standing there watching him walk off until he turns a corner and disappears. Closing the door you sigh and go the clean up your living room.

You notice he left the portrait he drew of you. signed at the bottom with a smiley face next to his name.

It gets hung up in your studio above your desk.

[strangersteddierthings]

Gut Instinct: Interlude - Eddie

[Art] [Ao3] [Prologue] [Chapter One] [Chapter Two] [Interlude]

A/N: Friday evening from Eddie's POV.

-

“Holy shit,” Jeff says, “you actually do know King Steve?”

Eddie almost gives himself whiplash from how quickly he looks from Erica to Dustin and, holy shit, the Keg Stand King himself, Steve Harrington.

“I told you he’s awesome,” Dustin says in a tone that implies Jeff’s an idiot. “Come on Steve, sit beside me. I’ll help you with the rules.”

“Hold up,” Eddie says, rounding to Harrington. He looks like a deer caught in the headlights for a moment, which is hilarious to Eddie. Who knew Harrington could be startled? However, any joy he might have gotten from startling Harrington is fleeting, because Eddie doesn’t trust why he’s here. Why he would agree to sub. Harrington’s always been bad news, and Eddie doesn’t trust him as far as he can throw him, no matter how nice he is to look at. “Your character is?”

“Oh, uh, tiefling paladin, oath of the crown,” Harrington says, trying to catch Dustin’s eye in what Eddie thinks Steve believes is a subtle way.

Eddie shoots a glare at him. No way Harrington came up with that character. It had to have been made by Dustin, which Eddie would normally count as cheating and kick someone out for, but… Well, he’s got to admit a little intrigued. Harrington might not have made his own character, but he pronounced tiefling right and knew to say the subclass. “Right. And why’d you agree to sub?”

There is a small pause before Harrington simply says, “Dustin asked.”

He’s got to admit to some surprise here. He didn’t think Harrington could actually care about other people, but he seems genuine. Honest, almost. “Fine.” Eddie watches as Dustin steers Harrington to an empty seat. Eddie takes his own spot back on the throne. If Harrington is going to play, he’ll need to tweak the battle a little. Having another higher-level paladin in the group throws off his carefully calculated challenge rating. Easy enough to tweak. A few more minions can join the fight, and Vecna can still be deadly as he is now without changes. He’ll see if he needs to up the hit points for Vecna after the first combat encounter. If they breeze through that, Vecna’s definitely getting a boost.

Also... Well, also, Eddie’s almost a little excited that Harrington’s going to see this side of him. Yes, Harrington was witness to more than his fair share of cafeteria rants but that’s different. That’s Eddie acting out against the system because it’s rigged in favor of people like Harrington, and against people like Eddie. Here, Harrington will get to see Eddie perform.

While plotting, he does take the time to eavesdrop at bit. Specifically on Harrington.

“Hi. I’m Steve.”

“I know,” Gareth says, and he couldn’t sound more disinterested in talking to Harrington if he tried. Eddie’s a little proud of him.

“Right. And you are…?”

“Gareth.”

“Nice to meet you.”

“We’ve met. Like four times,” Gareth says dismissively and Eddie grins behind his DM screen. How many times had Harrington dismissed them? He knows he shouldn’t be feeling this vindicated. And yet…

There’s a bit of a pause before Eddie hears Harrington ask, “Isn’t Lucas in this club, too?”

“Well, yeah, that’s why you’re here. To fill in for him. ‘Cause he’s in the basketball game,” Dustin answers.

“And he’s okay with missing this game?”

“Well, uh, he doesn’t exactly know he’s missing it?” Dustin says it like a question and Eddie can’t help but roll his eyes. There’s no way Lucas Sinclair, budding athlete that he is, doesn’t know he’s missing this game. He made his choice.

“I’m sorry, what?” Harrington says.

“He asked us to get Eddie to postpone the game, but Eddie said no. Besides, Mike’s leaving the state tomorrow morning and we’d have to wait two weeks to play again otherwise,” Dustin explains, “and, uh, we haven't seen him since he asked us after the assemble to tell him that the game would not be postponed.”

Eddie finally lifts his head to watch the exchange. He can’t see Dustin’s face, as Dustin is facing Harrington, but that leaves Eddie with a perfect view of Harrington.

“That’s bullshit, Henderson,” Harrington’s raises his voice. He doesn’t have an expression on his face that would suggest anger. It’s more disappointment, but either way, Eddie’s not about to watch Harrington bully one of his sheep.

“Watch it, Harrington,” Eddie snaps, matching Harrington’s energy. “You don’t get to bully people around here.”

“That’s not- right, sorry. Just, can we postpone for like ten more minutes?” Harrington asks.

“Why the Hell would we do that?” Eddie is bewildered, he’ll admit that. Why does Harrington need ten more minutes?

“So I can go tell Lucas this game wasn’t postponed, like he thinks it is,” that bit hissed in Dustin’s direction, “and he might only be going to the basketball game because he thinks this one isn’t happening.”

“Oh,” Eddie says, a bit dumbly. Has he read Lucas all wrong? Is he more nerd than jock? It’s strange that Harrington might be the authority on that matter, but he seems terribly invested in these kids. Maybe Eddie has read Harrington all wrong? Maybe he really has changed, and is just here to make a bunch of kids happy? “Fine. Ten minutes. We’re starting without you or Sinclair if it takes longer than that.”

“Thanks!” Harrington smiles at him.

Eddie’s self-aware enough to know why his insides flutter in the face of the full Harrington Charm directed at him. He scrunches his face in disgust at himself. He was, is, over the crush he’d had on Harrington. That was a blip on his radar of Unfortunate and Bad Crushes on Stupid Straight Boys. A lot of people made the list (he’s a hopeless romantic, sue him) so Harrington’s not special.

Isn’t going to be special. Eddie’s going to kill his paladin as quickly as possible and then kick him out to go watch the basketball game or something.

-

“Any moment now Steve's going to walk back through that door with Lucas. So, I hope you are prepared to have two extra players tonight. He's very persuasive. He'll get Lucas to come around. If anyone can, it's Steve. Just you wait,” Dustin is saying when Harrington steps back into the room. Not that Eddie was watching the door for him.

Harrington’s got a look on his face that isn’t pleased. Great.

“Oh no,” Erica sighs, “that’s your Disappointed Parent face.”

“I don’t have a ‘Disappointed Parent’ face,” Harrington says before turning his gaze to Eddie. “Eddie, Lucas thinks you don’t like him.”

“Why does he think that?” Eddie stands up from where he was sitting. He doesn’t like the tone in Harrington’s voice and he’s not going to stay sitting so Harrington can talk down to him, literally or figuratively.

“He thinks you don’t like him because he’s missed previous games. Thinks you don’t like him so much that he had to have Dustin and Mike ask about this game because he believes you’d have said no immediately to him,” Harrington steps further into the room, and Eddie watches as all his friends tense. Ready to jump to his defense if need be. Eddie’s tense, too, because this is the Harrington he remembers. The one who thinks his word is law, and everyone should obey. Well, Eddie’s not going just roll over. Of course the jock shows up in defense of the other jock.

“I don’t hate him, but the budding jock made his choice,” Eddie scoffs, dismissive.

“You’re a fucking hypocrite, Eddie. ‘You don’t get to bully people around here.’” Harrington uses a deeper tone that Eddie thinks is supposed to represent Eddie’s voice as he parrots the words back to him. “It’s only okay for you to be the bully, huh?”

Eddie gasps, offended. “Of the two of us, Harrington, I’m not the fucking bully,” Eddie moves away from the table, rounding it to go get into Harrington’s face, but Gareth reaches out and grabs his elbow, stopping Eddie in his tracks. It’s the right call, because Eddie doesn’t want to have to fist fight Harrington in front of the club, but he’ll fucking do it.

“You don’t know shit about me,” Harrington fires back. “I was a dick in high school, yeah, but I grew the fuck up. You’re bullying a fifteen-year-old because he wants to, what, play sports? Making him choose between the two? That’s fucked up.”

“Again, I didn’t fucking make him choose!” Eddie growls back. Eddie didn’t! Lucas made his choice the day he tried out for basketball. Eddie knew it. Lucas knew it. Lucas’s friends knew it. The only one in the room who doesn’t seem to get it is Harrington, who must truly believe you can have your cake and eat it too. Unsurprising, Eddie thinks, since Harrington was born with a silver spoon in his goddamn mouth that probably already had cake on it. Ice cream, too.

“You did! By not postponing the fucking game! School sports have a set schedule, and you could have looked at it before scheduling Hellfire,” Harrington says. “Lucas is allowed to like sports and nerd things. And you two,” he pivots to point between Dustin and Mike, “are being kind of shitty right now. After everything you’ve gone through together, you couldn’t stick by his side for this?”

“Hey, I have to get on a plane tomorrow morning,” Mike defends himself. “If they postponed, then I wouldn’t have gotten to play!”

“So, it’s fine that Lucas can’t play, but terrible if you can’t? That’s a load of shit, Wheeler. Lucas is supposed to be your friend.”

“He is my friend-“

“Then act like it!” Harrington says. “Will and El aren't here anymore; are you really okay with losing Lucas, too?”

“That is not fair,” Mike’s tone is almost flat as he glares at Harrington.

“Steve, you’re being defensive, right now,” Dustin speaks up, giving Harrington a pointed look.

Those words cause a shift in Harrington for some reason. Eddie watches him deflate before turning back to Eddie and saying, “If you want Lucas to believe you don’t hate him, you’d go to the game, too.”

“Lucas can draw his own conclusion about how I feel. I’m not responsible for his emotions, Harrington,” Eddie growls. As soon as the words leave his mouth, he feels a little regret. He didn’t say anything untrue but it’s not how he really feels. He’s not usually this dismissive of Hellfire member’s feelings but Harrington’s mere presence has set him into fight mode and he realizes he’s saying things he doesn’t believe just to argue. Why is he trying so hard to get into a fight right now?

“You’re right, but you’re also older than him and should take some responsibility for how you act around him,” Harrington says, and Eddie feels shame. He fucking hates it. Only Wayne’s able to evoke shame from him, and it’s bullshit that Harrington’s doing it now. “He thinks you’re being shitty to him, on purpose. He thinks you treat him differently than you do Dustin or Mike. And that’s fucked up. He’s just a kid, he looks up to you, and he's been through enough.”

Eddie doesn’t argue back. Harrington is right. Eddie knows he’s right. That shame coils in his gut, and he’s pissed that it’s Harrington making him feel that way. That it’s Harrington who is pointing out Eddie’s shortcomings.

There’s a shuffling sound and Dustin is standing, shoving his things into his backpack. He doesn’t say anything, but he does look at Mike. The two seem to have a silent conversation because after a moment Mike nods, and begins to gather his stuff, too.

“So, you two are out?” Eddie’s asks. He tries to keep his voice neutral, but he feels a little betrayed. Of course, Harrington shows up and ruins everything for him. He should have known he’d never stack up against Steve Harrington.

It’s childish to think because Dustin and Mike aren’t picking Harrington. He knows that. He knows they’re picking Lucas, their lifelong friend.

And yet.

It’s like Eddie is fifteen and a sophomore again, getting picked last for PE games and group projects. Not being ‘cool’ enough, which had made younger him feel not good enough.

“Harrington’s right,” Dustin says as he swings his backpack over his shoulder, “Lucas does really want to be here. He sounded real upset when he asked us to talk to you about changing the day of the game. I also really want to play, it’s going to suck missing the final session, but it’s going to suck more to bail on a years-long friendship.”

“Yeah. Lucas has never bailed on us,” Mike adds, even though he sounds upset for agreeing.

Erica lets out a put-upon sigh, “he has bailed on me, but never when it mattered, I guess. I expect that you’re buying the tickets, Steve?”

“Unbelievable!” Eddie throws his hands in the air, anger in his voice, probably laced with the hurt he feels. This was always going to be the outcome. Ever since the first time Dustin brought up Harrington, Eddie knew he’d be second fiddle. He shouldn’t feel so upset by this but fuck, he does.

“A compromise?” Harrington offers. “Mike, when are you back?”

“Uhh, the plane is supposed to land Thursday afternoon; I’ll be back in town that night sometime.”

“Great,” Harrington looks to Eddie. “Can you guys play next Friday, or even Thursday night if Mike isn’t jet-lagged too much?”

“School’s locked up next week,” Dustin answers before he can. Which is fine, he was going to say the same thing anyway.

“What about your basement, Mike?” Harrington changes his attention to Mike.

“Won’t fit all of us,” Mike says. “It was barely enough room when it was just Dustin, Lucas, Will, and I. The table's not big enough.”

“Plus, it stinks like boy,” Erica wrinkles her nose, “unwashed, gross boy.”

“It’s not that bad!”

“Yes, it is,” Harrington says.

“Steve, I have a compromise,” Erica says. “Regarding a promise you made to me. For life.”

Erica now has Harrington’s full attention it seems, and also Eddies, because what kind of lifelong promise has Harrington made to this child? “Yes, Erica?” Harrington asks.

“We play at your house next Friday. You will provide snacks and pizza,” she says it like it’s decided, before pointing her finger at Harrington, then dragging her hand through the air to point at everyone, “and all you nerds will stop bickering like old people. You’ll also have to buy our tickets because I didn’t bring any money. In return, I will shorten your life debt to the day after I graduate from high school.”

“Done! Deal!” Harrington accepts instantly, easily, and with a lot of relief in his voice. What the fuck did he owe Erica? Eddie’s dying to know, because he’s curious by nature. Not because anything about Harrington actually interests him. “I’ll be buying all the basketball tickets, and just tell me what pizza you want. That work for everyone?”

“Your parents will be okay with that?” Dustin asks.

“Oh, they’ll be gone by Friday for sure so no issue. So, will that work for everyone?” Harrington asks.

Eddie exchanges looks with his friends, a silent agreement to go with whatever they want. He hopes they say no, but Jeff speaks an affirmative first, so he, Gareth, and Frankie parrot that yes.

Erica stalks up to Harrington, stopping just in front of him, hand out, palm up. With a sigh, Harrington pulls his wallet out of his back pocket and drops it into Erica’s hand. Erica says, “I’ll get back to you on the pizza I want. I’ll go buy tickets. Are you all coming?”

Gareth says, “Uh, Harrington’s not gonna buy-“

“I said are. You. Coming?” Erica repeats, hands on her hips.

“Yes,” Gareth answers, then looks surprised he did. Eddie’s surprised, too, but only a little. He really likes Erica. He’s not going to be in school when her time to really join the club comes, but he’s going to make sure Gareth recruits her anyway. Somehow.

Erica gives one nod and heads out the door.

Eddie just watches for a moment as everyone gathers their things before he heaves a sigh and starts to pack up, too.

It’s not until Harrington speaks that Eddie realizes he’s alone with him in the green room, everyone else having left already. “I'm sorry. I’m sorry for coming in here and like, immediately attacking you. That wasn’t cool of me.”

Eddie looks him over before scoffing. “It’s whatever, man.”

“It’s really not,” Harrington says. “I know that, like, a lot of work goes into this game and I’m sorry. So, like, if you want anything extra, or need something for the game next week, I’ll get it. I’ll help however I can.”

Eddie pauses in the middle of his clean up, to look up at Harrington and study him. Those were the last words he expects to come out of Harrington’s mouth. An apology? Surely he’s entered the Twilight Zone. Harrington not only looks sincere, but sounds it, too.

He hates how, ever since Harrington’s arrival, Eddie feels like he’s lost control of his emotions. He’s always been on a hair trigger when Harrington and his stupid, handsome face were near. It’s the one crush he was never able to fully get over. And he hates it. He hates that he feels anything for the ex-king of Hawkins High besides contempt.

What should he say here? Thank you? Fuck off?

When Eddie finally replies, he settles for, “I don’t know if I hate you or not.”

“That’s fair,” Harrington says quietly, sincerely, and Eddie hates that, too. Hates that he can see the Harrington Dustin is always praising. If even just a little. Speaking of Dustin.

“I’ve got to know, Harrington. How’d this group of kids get to be so important to you?” Eddie goes back to gathering up the stuff on the table, needing something to do or he’s going to do something stupid. Like let Harrington have his full attention. "Why is their continued friendship important to you?"

“I used to babysit them. Try and keep them out of trouble, which is impossible because they’re too fucking curious and smart. That’s a godawful combination, you know?”

Eddie lifts one corner of his mouth upwards in a smile he tries to fight back down because, “My uncle would agree with you.”

“Yeah, well, they don’t need a babysitter anymore but-“ Harrington cuts his words off, and when Eddie glances to him, he’s wearing a thoughtful expression. Harrington finally continues with, “But they’re family now. They can be a bunch of shitheads, but I love them. And they hate it when I say this, but they should get to be kids as long as they can.”

He doesn’t respond. Instead, he takes the time to process the words and he gathers up his things. Maybe he is wrong about Harrington. Maybe, he has changed. People are allowed to do that, Eddie knows, but he’s never witnessed it. Not really.

“Help me load what I’ll need for the session next week into my van and I’ll think about forgiving you for ruining this one,” Eddie says once everything is gathered.

“Yes!” Harrington agrees, a bit too eagerly and quickly. Like he couldn’t wait to be useful to Eddie in some way. Eddie shoots him a confused and concerned look before picking up the first stack of things and heading out. Between the two of them they make quick work of it all.

When they finally get to the gym, Dustin is sitting on the sidewalk waiting for them with their tickets. Eddie follows Dustin into the gym and watches with amusement as Dustin manhandles Harrington into sitting next to Mike. Dustin then sits next to Harrington, then pats the spot next to him while grinning at Eddie. Eddie looks up and sees that Gareth, Jeff, Frankie, and Erica have taken seats towards the top of the bleachers. He debates joining them but ends up dropping onto the bench next to Dustin.

“Oh, shit.” He hears Harrington say to himself.

“What, what is it?” Dustin asks.

“Brenda.”

“What?”

“Brenda!” Harrington hisses, “I, uh, I stood her up. To come to your game instead.”

Eddie swivels to look at Harrington, eyes wide and eyebrows raised in both surprise and delight as he asks, “You ditched a date to play DnD?”

Harrington and Eddie just look at each other for a moment before he watches Harrington blush with embarrassment. “Like I said. Dustin asked.”

Eddie shakes his head because he can’t believe Harrington. Steve ‘Lady’s Man’ Harrington ditched a lady because a fourteen-year-old asked him to. He turns back to the court, so he doesn’t give away how cute he thinks that is.

Wait. No. He doesn’t think anything Harrington does is cute. He doesn't!

Since he’s looking at the court, Eddie looks for Lucas and finds him just in time to see Lucas’s face light up when he sees the whole club sitting there. There’s that shame from earlier back, pooling in his gut.

Everyone stays for the whole game. They all get to see Lucas make the winning shot. Eddie finds himself cheering with the rest of the stands.

He joins everyone with swarming Lucas. He doesn’t push in and get close, the shame in his stomach keeping him at a distance, but he does make eye contact and gives two thumbs up. Lucas looks overjoyed at just that, and it’s suddenly too much inside. Too loud.

He needs to go.

He makes it halfway to his van before he hears Harrington again.

“Hey, Eddie, wait!”

Eddie does wait, turning as he shoves his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “Harrington. Not done turning my night upside down?”

“Nah, man. Just wanted to give you my number.”

“Your number?” Eddie says, voice a bit delirious because what the fuck. Why would Harrington want Eddie ‘The Freak’ Munson to have his number?

“Yeah. So that when it’s closer to the Dungeons game you can call, let me know the time that works for you all. Maybe even drop off some of that stuff I helped you load before the game? Whatever makes it easier for you.”

“Oh,” why is he disappointed by that answer? What had he been hoping it would be? “Yeah. Sure. I don’t have a pen on me-“

“No issue. Already wrote it down,” Harrington says, pulling the paper from his pocket, offering it to Eddie.

He reaches out slowly and takes it, balling his fist around it without looking at it, eyes locked onto Harrington's face. The nearest light source is behind Harrington, so he can’t see the features of his face but that’s fine. He’s not looking for them. He stares, just looking. Harrington has not been what he thought he would be. Eddie’s not used to being wrong about things. Harrington confuses him, makes him a little crazy, and he’s got a week to unpack the why of that. Dare he say it, he might be looking forward to the game at Harrington’s house.

Eddie turns on his heel and heads off into the night without another word. If he stays any longer he might try something stupid, like asking if he and Harrington might have a shot at friendship after all.

“Okay then. Have a good night! See you next week!” Harrington shouts at his back and Eddie lets himself smile about it.

[krirebr]

I Know I Should Know Better 4

Pairing: Curtis Everett x Female Reader, references to past Colin Shea x Female Reader & past Johnny Storm x Female Reader

Word Count: ~3.5k

Summary: Curtis has been working as your body guard for almost two years now. Standing by and watching you work and party your life away is becoming more and more difficult, but is there anything he can do about it?

Warnings: Angst, adult themes, complicated power dynamics, minor age difference (not explicit in this part, but reader is mid-twenties and Curtis is early thirties), drinking & implied drug use, explicit language, bad boyfriend (Colin continues to be awful, even though we haven't actually seen him since part 2), self-destructive behavior, anxiety, negative self-talk. She's still having a bad time, you guys. All of my work is 18+ - Minors DNI

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

Series Masterlist

Masterlist

A/N: Well, here it is! As I currently have it planned, this will be seven parts, so we're officially past the halfway point now. This part's a little shorter, but I'm hoping you'll think it's worth it.

Big thanks to @drabblewithfrannybarnes for helping me nail down the new character here! (If you don't remember doing that Carly, it's because it was ages ago 🤣)

Any comment, reblog, or ask to let me know what you think will be greatly appreciated. Even if it's just screaming at me. 😄 As always, thank you so much for reading! 💜

The drive to the restaurant was uncomfortable. Or maybe it wasn’t. Maybe it was just you. Sitting in the backseat alone, while Curtis and Jensen quietly conversed in the front, you felt ridiculous. You should learn how to drive. You were a grown woman who couldn’t even get herself anywhere—just another way you didn’t know how to be responsible for yourself.

You stared at Curtis in the front seat. It’d been a few weeks since your boundaries conversation. You hadn’t spoken to him much since. He was right. It was better. Cleaner. But you missed being able to talk to him.

Something had changed about the way he watched you though. You would swear that it was more intense now, the way his eyes followed you around the room. And it always seemed like he had something to say, he’d just never say it. He didn’t make any sense.

You took a breath. You were nervous about this lunch. You weren’t entirely sure what the purpose of it was, aside from the fact that Marnie Reynolds had wanted to meet. You hadn’t seen her in years and then she just texted you out of the blue two days ago, asking if you wanted to have lunch. You assumed she was going to pitch you something. Why else would she want to talk? You hoped it’d be something easy to agree to. It would make Wilford and Tanya feel better if someone actively wanted to work with you, at the very least. 

The restaurant wasn’t the kind of place you normally went to. It was nice, but tucked away, not designed for those who wanted to see and be seen. Marnie had chosen it. She was waiting for you at a small table in the back, even more private. She stood as you approached and enveloped you in a warm hug. She was just as glamorous as you remembered, suddenly hit by memories of sitting in her trailer while she let you try on her jewelry. She’d always been so nice to you. “Oh, honey, it’s so good to see you,” she said as you both sat down. 

You smiled and nodded. “It’s good to see you, too. How are you?” 

“Oh, good, good,” she said with a big smile. “Just got back from a shoot in Greece. Happy to be home.” Her eyes lost a little of their luster as she asked, “How are you, darling?”

“Oh, I’m fine,” you said. You could tell she wanted you to say more, but you just nodded and shrugged.

“Well,” she looked at you carefully, “I can’t get over how grown up you are. I know it’s silly, but I think I’ll always see you as the sixteen-year-old I met at the table read ten years ago.”

 “You and all of America,” you said dryly before you could think better of it.

Instead of chastising you, she just nodded. “I’m very grateful I didn’t have to grow up so publicly and then have to make that transition to being an adult. I can’t imagine how hard that is.”

You shrugged again. You didn’t really know what to say to her.

“Which, speaking of, I owe you an apology.”

Panic rose in your chest. Oh, god. Had she sold a story about you? Said something private in an interview? Blocked you from a new role? You weren’t sure you could handle one more thing right now. “Oh?” you asked shakily.

She nodded, seriously. “I should have done a better job of keeping in touch with you after we’d finished the movie. I owed you that much. I’m sorry.”

You furrowed your brow, confused.  “That’s fine. You’ve been so busy. I didn’t really expect you to remember me. I mean, you won an Oscar. I know how much work that takes.”

“Mmm,” she said, “and you sent me flowers.”

You shrugged. You just kept shrugging. “Well, you were always kind to me, and I was so happy for you. It seemed like the least I should do.”

 “You were always so sweet. I’m so happy to see that hasn’t changed.”

At the sincerity on her face, you looked down at your menu. You didn’t know what to say to that. 

“How’s your mom?” she asked, her tone strangely cautious. “Is she still your manager?”

“Oh, no. Wilford helped me get a new one when I turned 18. He thought I needed someone more experienced.”

She let out a breath, almost like she was relieved. “I have to admit, I’m happy to hear that.” You gave her a confused look and she continued softly, “She was always so hard on you. It was part of why I always invited you to my trailer. It seemed like you could really use a break from her.” She gave you another impossibly warm smile. “Plus, you were such great company. I loved making that movie with you.”

You couldn’t hide your relief when the server chose that moment to take your orders. You didn’t know what to do with the fondness in Marnie’s eyes. 

Once you were both done ordering, you decided you were ready to talk business. “So, what’s the project?” you asked.

She looked confused. “Project?”

“Uh, yeah. Whatever you wanted to pitch me? The reason you asked me here.”

“Oh, honey, no, I’m sorry. There’s no project. I just wanted to see you.”

That didn’t make sense. That she didn’t want to work with you again made sense. No one did, so of course she didn’t either. But then why else were you here? “I don’t understand,” you said quietly.

She let out a sad little sigh. “I’ve seen some of what’s been going on with you, online, and it just seems like you need a friend. I want to be that for you. I think about you more than you know.”

“Oh,” was all you managed to say.

She grabbed your hand over the table. “There’s so much going on for you right now. I can’t imagine how hard it must be, and then to have to deal with it in public too.”

You didn’t say anything, just looked at your joined hands on the table. Then, finally, still looking down, “Uh, yeah. I’m having a pretty hard time.”

She squeezed your hand. “I’m so sorry. I’m here to listen if you ever want to talk about it.” 

You finally looked up and nodded, but didn’t say anything else. You weren’t sure you could.

She looked at you carefully. “Have you thought about taking a break at all?”

You were reminded of Curtis, sitting on your couch, looking at you so earnestly, talking about taking a year off. You shook the image out of your head. “No,” you said. “It isn’t a good time. My reputation isn’t great right now, so I need to get back out there and show people that I can do the work. I need to fix it.”

“Mmm,” she hummed, “that sounds like agent speak.”

“Well,” you shrugged, “he’s right.”

“Remember, though,” she said, slowly, “that you’re a person, too. Not just a career.”

You just looked at her, blankly. Your career had been the most important thing about you since you were nine years old. You didn’t know how to separate the two. Luckily, that was when the server returned with your food, and Marnie graciously took it as a sign to take over the conversation for the rest of your meal. She talked about the movie she’d just finished, how her kids were doing, and the large garden she was planting at home. It was nice. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d had a meal out with a friend like this.

Still, you left the restaurant feeling raw and restless. You weren’t sure what to do with that conversation, the hard parts of it. The way she looked at you like she actually saw you. There was an itch in you now that just made you want to run.

Instead, as soon as you got home, you poured yourself a glass of sangria from the pitcher your housekeeper kept in your fridge and took the latest script Wilford had sent you onto your deck. You could feel Curtis watching you as you moved through the glass doors. That was his job, you told yourself. It was just his job.

The script fucking sucked. It was awful. The opposite of what you wanted to do. But you knew what Wilford would say. Beggars can’t be choosers. This was your fault. You were the one who’d destroyed your reputation. You had to be the one to fix it. And if making shit like this would fix it, then that’s what you had to do. Too many people relied on you for you not to do whatever you could, take whatever paychecks you could get. You hated it. You hated it so much. But you would do it.

You picked up your phone. You hadn’t realized how much time had passed. It was well into the evening now. There was a text from Michelle an hour ago, letting you know she’d left. And a few minutes ago, one from Nikki, a girl you partied with sometimes, that just said ‘Fuck them both!’

What the hell did that mean? Panic began to crawl up your throat and your hands started to shake as you typed your name into Google and clicked on News. Your stomach dropped.  Johnny Storm, that snowboarder you’d barely dated over a year ago, apparently had a podcast now. And the latest episode, posted that day, featured Colin Shea as its guest. Shit. Fuck. You couldn’t even look at what they’d said. There was no point. It was all just the same old bullshit.

You felt tears start to prick at your eyes. Why couldn’t everyone just leave you the fuck alone? You weren’t even that interesting. How could they possibly have anything to talk about?

Fuck that, you thought, as you stormed back into your house. You distantly registered Curtis calling after you, but you didn’t pay any attention. You were too focused. You headed straight up to your bedroom. They wanted something to talk about? You’d fucking give it to them! You charged into your closet and grabbed the sluttiest, shiniest dress you had. Fuck yeah. You could do this. You would be exactly who they wanted you to be. If they wanted a show so fucking badly, you’d give them one.

You ran back downstairs, looking for a particular pair of earrings that a costar had given you as a wrap gift a couple of years ago – huge dangly ones that said Fuck on one ear and You on the other. There was nothing subtle about what you were going for tonight. 

You’d have to think of someone to call, too. Someone suitable for the kind of scene you wanted to make, the kind of big mistake you wanted to fall into. You were so fucking tired of holding it all together. You were done. Your mind immediately landed on Lucas Lee, your costar in that dumb action movie last year. He was awful but so hot. Nothing but trouble and always up for whatever. Perfect.

As you entered your living room, your eyes landed on one of your jewelry boxes on the coffee table. There they were! As you picked up the box, you realized Curtis was sitting by himself on the couch. You saw him take in your short, sparkly dress and grimace. You weren’t in the mood to analyze it. “I’m going out,” you announced. “Have Jensen get the car ready.” 

You were already moving through, headed back upstairs when you heard Curtis rasp, “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

You turned on a dime. “Excuse me?”

“I think,” he said slowly, so calmly you wanted to break something, “that going out right now, in the sort of mood you’re clearly in, would be a very bad idea.”

What the actual fuck? “Since when,” you asked, your voice quiet with seething anger, “is it your job to tell me what to do?”

He shook his head and you didn’t know how to react to how sad he looked. “I’m not telling you to do anything. I’m asking you to stay home tonight. For your own safety, which very much is my job.”

You just stared at him, dumbfounded. You didn’t understand him. He told you you weren’t friends. He was the one who said he was just your bodyguard. So what the hell was he doing now? 

In the moment you stood frozen, just staring at him, he took a cautious step forward. “Did something happen?” he asked barely above a whisper.

You shook your head furiously. You felt like you could barely form words. You were so angry and lost, and scared, and sad, and confused. You were feeling more than you thought your body could contain. And you knew, you knew, the only way to get these feelings out would be to go out and get as wild as you could. And here Curtis was, not letting you. You were afraid you were going to explode. “That’s fine,” you finally got out, ignoring his question. “You don’t have to come with me. Jake neither. I’ll get a fucking Uber.” You took a step towards the opening of the room. “Go home Jake!” you shouted through the house. “I won’t need you tonight!”

Curtis sighed your name. “I’m not going to let you go out by yourself,” he said firmly.

You threw your hands in the air. “Then make up your goddamn mind!” 

Jake appeared in the doorway, looking confused and Curtis turned to him. You took the opportunity to get back to the safety of your room, leaving your security detail to figure their shit out. Once back in your room, you dug through the jewelry box until you found the earrings you were looking for. You heard your back door open and close. Good. Jake, at least, was gone. You knew Curtis would be harder, but you were fucking determined. 

Just as you were opening Uber on your phone, Curtis appeared in your doorway. “What,” you growled.

“Would you just listen to me for a minute?!” He said, not quite a yell, but not not that either, as he barged into your room. All of his practiced calm from downstairs was completely gone. “Something bad is going to happen if you go out tonight! It is, I know it is. And I know you can feel it too!”

“Why do you care?!” You shouted at him. “No one else does! Why do you care so much?!”

“You know why!” he shouted back, and took another step toward you, but then suddenly stopped. Much, much quieter, much softer, and with eyes so pleading, he said “You must know.”

You didn’t. You really don’t think you knew until that moment, when the realization slammed into you. Every look, every sigh, all of the moments of him that hadn’t made sense. You took a step back. “What?” you breathed, barely realizing that you were shaking.

He took a step forward to follow you, then stopped. He opened his mouth to say something, but you shook your head at him. “No,” you said. “You can’t.”

“I can’t?!” he asked, incredulous and upset again.

“No!” you shouted, but it was so much weaker now. “I just– Why would– I’m such a fucking mess!” You were starting to cry, the adrenaline of the last half-hour finally leaking out of you, replaced by that same bone-deep exhaustion that you’d had for too long. “I barely have a high school education. I don’t know how to do anything for myself. No one wants to work with me. I am barely keeping it together and everyone knows it. I’m a trainwreck! Why would you–” You couldn’t bring yourself to say the words that you knew he meant. “Why would you have feelings for someone like that?”

 The sadness was back in his face. You looked away, unable to bear it. In your periphery, you saw him take a cautious step forward, then pause. When you made no move to run, he eliminated the distance between you, standing directly in front of you. He slowly, gently, carefully brought one hand up to touch your face, caressing your cheek with his thumb. “I know,” he said, voice barely above a whisper. “I know all that and I still love you. Because I also know that somehow, despite everything, you are one of the most genuine people I’ve ever met. You are so kind. And thoughtful. You let everyone see your soft spots, even when all they do is hurt you. You have every reason to be awful or bitter or mean or any of a thousand things. But you aren’t. It’s all of it, it’s all of those things and the ones you said too. All of it together, that’s why I love you. I love you because you’re you.”

You wanted to sob. No one had ever said anything remotely like that to you before. Not anyone in your family, or a single one of your exes. No one had ever cared enough to say any of that. Except for Curtis. He’d always cared, hadn’t he? Since that first day he’d showed up, when you’d been so scared about the possibility of a stalker, he’d taken such care with you. He was the most caring, thoughtful, beautiful person you knew. You took a deep breath and looked into his eyes.  You could see his worry, but also the deep conviction with which he’d just said all that to you. You couldn’t help yourself anymore. You surged forward and you kissed him. 

He made a noise of surprise—you didn’t know how he could possibly be surprised after all that—but after just a moment he was kissing you back, bringing both hands up to cradle your head. You were getting your tears all over him, but he didn’t seem to care. He was soft and gentle and passionate. You needed more. You needed all of him.

You took a step back, breaking the kiss. You did what you could to brush the tears off your face. You grabbed the bottom of your dress and pulled it over your head, then tossed it on the floor. You stood in front of him in the lingerie you’d picked out to fuck Lucas Lee of all people and couldn’t understand how you’d ever been able to think about anyone but Curtis. But you did know how when you stopped to think about it. You’d never been able to fathom that you might deserve this man. That he might actually want you.

He stared at you. “Fuck,” he whispered. “You’re–” you braced yourself for what might come next. So hot or fucking sexy. You’d even gotten beautiful once or twice. He only took a second before he finished his sentence “–incredible,” with such awe on his face that you actually felt your knees go weak. You had to look away. He was too much.

He took your face in his hands again and placed a soft, short kiss on your lips. “But would it be ok if we slowed down?” he asked.

You couldn’t keep the disappointment out of your voice. “Why?” 

“This is real for me,” he said. “And if we do this, I want it to be real for you too. I want you to be sure. And for now,” he stroked one thumb over your cheekbone, “right now I just want to hold you. Is that alright? If I just hold you tonight?”  

You didn’t know how to respond to that. Sex had always been the best, most important part of any of your relationships. It’d been the biggest thing that any of your previous partners had wanted from you. You weren’t sure you knew how to do it any other way. But he was holding you so gently, looking at you so softly, all you could do was nod. 

He kissed you once more. Then stepped back and started to take off his clothes. You made your way to your bed and got in, watching him as he shed his clothes. He really was the most beautiful man you’d ever seen. Nothing on any movie set you’d ever been on, any party you’d ever been to could compare to him. 

Once he was down to just his boxers, he crawled in next to you and pulled you close. Your lips touched his shoulder as you asked, barely audible, “You really love me?”

He kissed your forehead. “Yes,” he whispered. “I really love you.”

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[obm-avenquire]

Obey Me! Seven Minutes In Heaven Hell

[I’m honouring my rotten god awful roots from hell. Put up with it. I hope this gives someone whiplash. I am writing this both as a joke and with complete sincerity and i wont be explaining myself if you get it you get it if you dont then i hope youll find it entertaining anyway. I used my own deviantart for 2012 for reference for this]

✧─── ･ ｡ﾟ★: *.✦ .* :★. ───✧

Another day, another party in the Devildom. 

You have no idea how any of them have energy for all this - it feels like every week someone will pull some cause for celebration out of thin air and suddenly they’ve hired a catering company and a truckload of helium balloons. Of course, Diavolo - fuelled by his unending fear of missing out and need for enrichment - enables it every time, doing everything he can to get himself and everyone else you know invited. Which is…fine, you like seeing them all. In moderation. At none noisy crowded events. Ah, well. Such is the burden of a dating sim protagonist. Slumber parties at the castle are a little less high maintenance at least.

You’re pulled from your thoughts when Asmodeus calls your name, waving you over with Demonus-flushed cheeks before dragging you away from the balcony and back into the big guest room-turned-common-room-sleeping-area. You definitely think there’s a better way to phrase that, but you barely have time to think when Asmo is pushing you to sit down in the collective circle (his strength always surprises you, and he’s maybe just a little too tipsy to regulate it properly), pressing a kiss on your cheeks before running off to herd together the rest of the group.

You look around the circle, giving Satan an affirming but vague nod that he returns with an equally innocuous smile, which you accept as you always do and go back to your usual little headcount. Belphegor was dozing on the sofa, threatening to sprawl over Satan (who was ‘gently’ repositioning him whenever necessary), Mephistopholes (who had invited himself) was preaching his very special gospel to Beelzebub at the snack table while Asmodeus did whatever he could to wrangle the younger away because his plate was basically just a tower of snacks at this point and he could always get more later so if he would just pleeeeaaaaasssee-

You stop paying attention, instead giving Simeon and Raphael a little wave as they walk in.

“Welcome back,” You shuffle over slightly to make space for the two of them, Simeon sitting down next to you as Raphael decides to stand rigidly slightly off to the side just a little behind the sofa, and just…stay there. Well, whatever makes him comfortable, you guess. “Did Luke arrive safe?”

“He did, thankfully,” Simeon smiles, tucking his phone into the pockets of his trousers, “I can’t believe Serun broke all their bones and had to be hospitalised again. I feel awful not being able to visit, but, well…” He sighs, shrugging, “He wanted to go himself, and insisted he could manage, so…You know how he i-”

“What? I only came because I was promised melon cake!” You’re not sure where Thirteen popped up from, but she’s already on the armchair in the corner, kicking her legs over the armrests as she rolls her eyes. “What a waste of time.”

“Oh! Well, he still finished that, actually, so-” There’s a distinctive arcane shink sound that cuts Simeon off mid sentence. “Now, Raphael, put the spear away, you can’t do that here-” Ever the stickler for manners, it seems. Oh well. Not your problem. 

“Hey, so I’ve been meaning to ask.” Thirteen raises her eyebrows at your voice, pupils knife-like and theatrically bitchy in the dim candlelight.  “Why are you covered in soot.” 

“Well,” She scoffs, clicking her tongue, “Since someone-” She glares at Solomon from across the room, who smiles very nicely and innocently through his conversation with Barbatos- “Decided to ‘dismantle’-” She does incredibly heavy and repeated air quotes with her fingers, “My special little bomb boy it exploded all wrong!”

“I understand completely. I’m sorry someone would ever do something so awful to you, you don’t deserve that even slightly.” She snorts, balling up the tissue she was using to wipe the ashes off her forearm and throws it at your head. It disintegrates in midair before so much as making contact, and you squint over in the sorcerer's direction. He’s not even looking your way, and Barbatos whispers something you can’t make out to him as Thirteen groans and throws up her hands in frustration, sliding into what must be an incredibly uncomfortable position. It doesn’t seem to bother her, though, and she picks at her nails grumpily. Oh well!

“-Stop complainin’ already, would it really kill ya to join in?” Mammon is doing everything in his power to pull Levi through the door by the collar of his coat, but the younger seems to be trying to retract his own head into his shirt like a turtle to try and get out of it. 

“You’re killing me you’re the worst and I hate youandIhopeeverythingbadeverhappenstoyoua-” 

“Yeah yeah whatever. Shut up and sit.” Mammon slings his arm over Levi’s shoulder, dragging him down into the circle just as Lucifer and Diavolo finally come back from whatever it was they were getting done. 

“Lucifer, don’t make that face!” Diavolo nudges his bestest of friends, who looks particularly miserable, even as Barbartos silently refills his glass before they all, too, sit to join, the prince and his right hand man on the final empty sofa, the butler instead choosing to kneel neatly a little off to the side from Mammon and Levi. Satan adeptly shoves Belphegor upwards at just the right timing for Beelzebub to sit down (his twin slumps right back into his shoulder). Mephistopholes complains that there isn’t a proper place to sit til Mammon trips him and he ungracefully tries to pass it off as deciding to sit on the floor as Thirteen barks a sharp laugh at him.

A pleasant hum of conversation settles through the room, Asmodeus stumbling into hugging Solomon, whispering something between the invocation trio that you can’t quite make out before spinning around and clapping his hands together (cutely. It’s important to emphasise that he did this so so cutely) to get everyone’s attention.

“E---veryone!!!” He waits a few seconds for silence, shooting a glare at whoever dares to continue in the wake of this very very important announcement. “It’s time for a very special game! Have we all heard of 7 minutes in heaven?” He bounces on the tips of his feet in excitement despite the lukewarm reception. “Okay well that’s a mostly no then I guess-  Honestly! I know it’s a human world thing, but really?” He pouts, and you note that Diavolo’s visible excitement has increased exponentially already. 

“Allow me to explain,” Solomon cuts in, confirming your suspicion that he’d been somehow roped into this. “Two or more participants are selected - in our case by drawing lots - to go into a closet or equivalent and do whatever they like for 7 minutes.” Everyone seems a lot more attentive, suddenly. “Ah, of course, we’ll be taking magic precautions to make sure that there’s no cheating, and certainly no one breaking into the closet before time is up,” He grins, clearly enjoying this already. 

“The heck.” Mammon grumbles, oddly fidgety all of a sudden, “There ain’t even a closet in here,” Leviathan nods aggressively. He’s sweating. 

“Hm? Oh! That won’t be a problem, haha! Barbatos was kind enough to offer to help out with that,” The aforementioned butler steps aside to reveal a simple wooden door on the wall that decidedly hadn’t been there earlier. “We even made sure it was sound-proofed! You know, just in case.”

“What a curious game! Shall we start right away?” Diavolo beams, inadvertently cutting off Mephistopholes, who’d just opened his mouth to no doubt complain that this sort of juvenile and inappropriate game had no place at a gathering with the Devildom’s one and only prince. 

“Yes!! Everyone write your name on a piece of paper, okay?” Asmo begins handing out paper and pens to everyone, shushing any complaining he meets. “You don’t have to play! It just means you’re boring and no fun and that you’ll never get a chance like this again.” 

Better write your name, then. You’d hate to miss out. 

You watch as Barbatos collects everyone’s paper slips, dropping them into a glass bowl and shaking periodically to shuffle them well. You immediately lose track of yours, so you figure that it’s worked.  After what feels like a slightly inordinate amount of time, everyone seems to have put their name in the bowl - sure, some were more…begrudging or in need of convincing than others, but that’s normal! Anyways-

“Oooo I’ve been waiting for this all evening!” Asmodeus grabs the bowl, tap-tap-tapping along the rim for effect, perfectly manicured nails making a pleasant ASMR-esque tink noise. “Right, first u-”

“Uhm, how do- how do we know you’re, uh, not rigging this?” Asmo whips his head around to stare open-mouthed at Levi.

“Excuse me? I would never-”

“Mm, there’s no guarantee though, is there?” Asmodeus pouts at Satan, grumbling something about being personally offended and making sure to snitch next time Satan asks him for a favour.

“Fine! Since I’m so untrustworthy and awful-” The smile is switched back on as he saunters over to you, swishing the bowl around carefully before holding it out to you. “Why don’t you pick? No one will complain then, right?” 

The silence in the room means yes, presumably.

“Go on hun! Don’t be nervous-” He winks, and your mouth quirks into a smile to humour him, carefully reaching into the bowl for two slips of paper, pulling them out and carefully unfolding them to reveal-

✧─── ･ ｡ﾟ★: *.✦ .* :★. ───✧

[As is tradition, I'll be uploading the individual 'endings' as I write them :) I'll be putting a poll up on my account for who to write first (within reason, I don't think tumblr will let me put up enough options to cover everyone) so feel free to suggest people in the replies/tags too!! there will be no luke option becuz i dont know how to put hardware destroying malware in clickable links yet sory :( feel free to simulate the experience urself tho!!]

[spankingwishes2]

The Birthday After-Party

agbbswts wrote:

"Your bare bum's visiting our three laps indeed, dear" "And we’ll be using our slippers." "Aw. Poor darling you're gonna be so sore!"

***

It was my birthday, but hardly even my party - I don’t have a tenth the friends Camille does!  But it was a blast and made me feel pretty special, even if I was meeting a lot of these people for the first time!

The after-party slumber party, though, got down to just the four of us - Chelsea and Evangeline plus Camille and me.  And I can’t say that I didn’t know what was on the agenda… Camille had agreed that there’d be no ‘birthday spanking’ at the party - provided I didn’t object ‘afterward’ - as in, now.  And, to be fair, she had let me know that I’d be ‘in for it’.

“Are we limited to twenty-five spanks?” Ev pouted (twenty-four plus ‘one to grow on’). I looked at Chelsea - she would never go for that.  She likes to spank.

“Well…” Camille started, and I knew she had a way around it.  “It is a party,” she said, “So I guess if we get to the end and it’s not really enough, we could always start over.”

“That’s fair,” Chelsea claimed.

“Don’t I get an opinion?” I protested, knowing it was futile.

“No, sweetie, not at all,” Camille told me pleasantly.  “Though you could ask us for a second round - which you’re getting very close to doing right now.  Or should we just wait and see?”

“Waiting is good.”

“I thought so,” she continued.  “So let’s have you in your birthday suit!”

“Here?”

“You could do a little strip-tease for us,” Ev suggested, which I did not want to do.  I blushed bright red at the idea.

“Or our guest of honor could just stand still, and we’ll provide the stripping,” Chelsea said.

“Oh, definitely,” Camille agreed, “Just right there is fine.”

An instant later, the three of them were unbuttoning buttons and tugging at sleeves.  It actually was sort of exciting - though it’d be a lot more fun if I hadn’t been worrying about what was coming up!  They got down to my undies.  “Let’s stop a second before ‘the big reveal’,” Camille told them, turning me around.  Chels and Ev stood by the couch and Camille dramatically took the final step.

“Ta-da!” she crowed.�� “Look at that bottom - have you ever seen one so white?”

“When’s the last time you were spanked, Kendall?” Chelsea asked.

“Um, not since…”

“It’s been over a week!” Camille announced, making it sound incredible.  “But I’m sure any little naughtiness will be all gone by the time we’re done!”

“Want you to start the new year right!” Ev told me.

“Yeah,” Camille said, “Any little wrongdoings from the past year will be sent packing as well - won’t it, girls?”

As they agreed, I muttered, “That sounds like an awful lot of spanking…”

“Just enough,” Camille said.  “Now - here’s what I’m thinking.  We’ll go Evie, then me, then Chelsea.  I really ought to go last, but if K has trouble holding still for the last one, I can help.”

“So I’m first?” Ev said.  Looking over my shoulder, I saw that she was already sitting down with a slipper in her hand.  “Twenty five total, or each cheek?”

“I think ‘each cheek’ would be allowable…” Camille said, as if she’d pretended to think about it.

“Hey!  Now wait a minute…” I complained - and got a sharp slap on the butt.

“Sweetie, if you want a second round, you’ll ask for it nicely,” I was told.

“Yes’m,” I mumbled.

“But we each have two slippers,” Chelsea pointed out.  “So… twenty five with each?  On each cheek?”

I knew better than to protest again.

“Since Kendall doesn’t seem to want a second round, I think that would be best, yes,” Camille agreed.

“So, do we do them back to back?  Or is it one slipper from each of us, then the second?”

“I think one from each,” Camille decided, “Provided Evie won’t chicken out once Kendall’s bottom’s all red.”

“Oh, gee, I don’t know,” Ev said, which was sweet of her.  “I’d hate to… you know… hesitate to… do a good job…”

“Oh, don’t worry,” Camille told her.  “We’re good with back-to-back as well, aren’t we Chelsea?”

“Absolutely,” Chels said, unsurprisingly because it’s probably just what she wanted - third spanking on my roasted bottom!

“Okay, sweetie - over you go!” Camille said as she spun me around to go over Ev’s waiting lap.  “Evie’s going to get your birthday spanking started right!”

[clockwayswrites]

Like Betta Fish Do - Part 18

You all weren't supposed to get this until Monday, but to celebrate being released from the shadow ban! Have at it! Chapter 15 when on Ao3, MasterpostWC: 2353

Danny left the lecture with a smile on his face. It wasn’t that the lecture had been particularly enjoyable or anything, no, Danny just had been smiling more often than not the last few weeks. It was hard not to when he thought about Jason and the fact that they were dating.

He had a boyfriend. A very hot, very sweet boyfriend who was amazing at planning dates. Aside from the museum, they had also gone back to the beach and the little city near it, and kept up with their normal meals and exploring the city. It all really made Danny realize how much the two of them had been practically dating before their actual date. It was a nice realization. It meant much hadn’t had to change other than being able to hold hands… and take advantage of kissing Jason. Those were changes Danny was very much enjoying.

The next proper date was Danny’s to plan (he had insisted) and different ideas were filling up his head. He wanted to make it as special as the dates Jason had planned for him. The museum had been perfect, after all. It was a lot to live up to. Today, though, was just going over to Jason’s for a meal and to watch something. He pulled out his phone and gave Jason a call to see what food he should pick up.

“Hey, Jay.”

“Fish, hi, um, can I— no you cannot!” Jason answered, sounding like he had turned his face away from the phone. Someone in the background answered back. “No, do not—”

There was the rustling and muffled words before silence. And then— “Hey little fish!” Whoever had just taken over the call was much more chipper sounding.

“Hello,” Danny replied, bemused.

Whoever it was let out a sudden meep as obvious sounds of scuffling filled the background of the call. “So, I'm Jason's brother, Dick.“

“Give me back my phone you fucker!” Jason shouted, his words slightly muffled.

“Hello, Dick.”

An exhaled oof of air was followed by a loud crash and what Danny was pretty sure was one of them kicking the other.

“You can't keep him from me forever!” Dick cried. “Anyways, I'm at Jason's.”

Danny could help but grin at the antics. “I gathered.”

“Right— back off Jaybird— want to come over for lunch? Since I’m, oh shi—”

Danny winced at the sound of the phone hitting the floor. They were really going at it now. He’d give them props for creative cussing. As he listened to the sounds of the fight, he made his way to the subway stop.

Finally, a slightly breathless Jason reclaimed the phone. “Sorry about him.”

“It's fine. Want to put in an order at the Malaysian place for us and I'll pick it up? I'm already on my way over.”

“No,” Jason said (whined, really, though Danny knew he’d deny it). “Don't give into his demands.”

“Victory!” came a strangled cry. From the winded sound, Danny would bet Jason had his brother pinned, maybe even in a choke hold.

“I don't think he's really going to give up,” Danny pointed out. Jason was quiet. Quiet enough that Danny started to backtrack. “Hey, if you don't want me to meet your family—”

“No! It's not… I'll put in an order. It will be under your name. I'm making Dick pay though.”

“Still won!“ Came the shout from Dick before Jason hung up.

-

“I’ve got it!” a voice that wasn’t Jason called out from inside of the apartment.

Danny did his best to resist the urge to fidget.

Now that he was standing outside of the apartment the reality that Danny was about to meet someone from Jason’s family hit home. And Jason’s family were Waynes. He took a deep breath and tried not to panic. That, of course, meant his brain had time to run through a dozen worst case scenarios by the time the door swung open.

The Dick Grayson that stood in the door was every bit the male model that society pages liked to claim. His smile was even more blinding in person and maybe even a little infectious. Danny found he couldn’t help but smile back, even if it was a little wan and nervous.

“Oh my- Jaybird!” Dick called over his shoulder. “You didn’t tell me how adorable he was!”

Danny felt his cheeks flush red.

Dick spun back to Danny. “Are you a hugger?”

“I— yes?”

There was barely time for Danny to squeak out the words before Dick had scooped him up in a crushing hug. Oh. Okay, that was nice. Danny hadn’t been hugged like that since Jazz left for college and his parents stopped remembering he existed.

“Please stop smothering my boyfriend,” Jason called out as he came over.

“Hi Jason. Food,” Danny said, his words muffled against Dick’s chest. He blindly held out the bag of food in Jason’s direction, keeping the cardboard tray of drinks in his other hand.

“Hey, fish,” Jason said. Danny felt the food be lifted from his hand. “Do I need to get the jaws of life?”

“Oh shut up, Jayce,” Dick said cheerily. He squeezed Danny one last time before he let him go.

Danny took the opportunity to suck in a deep breath.

“Hi, I’m Dick,” Dick said, still grinning and offering his hand like a normal person.

“Don’t tell him!” Jason called out from the kitchen.

Danny leaned around Dick, absently shaking his hand as he did so. “What?”

“Don’t tell him your name,” Jason explained.

“He’s just been calling you ‘fish’ this whole time.”

“It’s driving him insane.” Jason sounded viciously gleeful.

“No,” Dick whined, drawing out the word to an absurd length. “I’m finally meeting you! You’re right here! I have to get to know your name now! I can’t keep calling you ‘fish’.”

“I mean,” Danny said innocently as he finally stepped in the apartment and closed the door behind him. “I like fish. Jason has been very creative with the name. It’s actually a little impressive.”

Dick narrowed his eyes at Danny. “I’m starting to see how you fit with Jason.”

Jason cackled from the kitchen. He set plates and utensils down on the table before coming over and wrapping his hands around Danny’s waist from behind. “My boyfriend, my side.”

Danny smiled innocently and leaned back into the hold.

“Yeah, yeah,” Dick said with a roll of his eyes, but he was still grinning happily. He started towards the table. “Come and eat or I’ll take all the roti for myself.”

“No, not the roti!” Danny gasped dramatically.

“Don’t worry, I got extra,” Jason assured everyone as he nudged Danny in the right direction.

“This must be yours,” Danny said, handing over one of the two blindingly pink cups of sirap bandung over to Dick. “Which tells me you are a man of refined tastes.”

“Just because you two have a sweet tooth—”

“Refined tastes indeed, well met,” Dick said over Jason with a fake British accent that would make Alfred wince.

“Indeed. Drink your longan juice, Jason,” Danny said, handing over the third cup to Jason, who just rolled his eyes.

They popped open all the various containers of food, sticking spoons or forks in them almost haphazardly. It became a jumble of hands for a bit as everyone got the first rounds they wanted on their plates. The table was quiet as everyone happily tore into the curries, rendang, and satay skewers.

-

“So, ‘fish’, if that is your real name, tell me about yourself,” Dick said after he had staved off the worst of his hunger.

“Um,” Fish (he couldn’t believe he had to call the guy fish in his own head) stalled badly as he completely blanked on what to say. Dick had the horrible feeling that people didn’t usually listen to what Fish had to say. “I moved to Gotham for school.”

“Gotham U? Or one of the lib arts colleges?”

Fish’s nose wrinkled adorably up at that. “Gotham U, I’m a total STEM. I’ll leave the books to Jason.”

“He’s a literature heathen,” Jason bemoaned. “But surprisingly dedicated to finding bizarre Jane Austen interpretations for me to watch.”

“You liked ‘the Lizzie Bennet Diaries,” Fish said, pointing at Jason with a skewer.

Jason stole the skewer to Fish’s indignant squawk. “I did, but ‘Persuasion’ was a mistake in every way.”

“Yeah, no, that’s fair,” Fish said, stealing a piece of tofu from Jason’s plate in retribution. (Oh shit, Jason was letting Fish steal his food!) “Not everything I find can be a winner.”

“Okay, but it sounds like you try at least! That counts for something. Got it though, science not books for the fish,” Dick said. “What do you like to do then?”

“Right now life is just a lot of studying and projects and papers,” Fish sighed. “But when I have time I like to play video games. And Jason has been showing me around Gotham and New Jersey.”

“So you swam in from out of state then?”

“Bus from Illinois,” Fish said. “It’s been a change for sure.”

“But you’re liking it?”

“I am, actually. I didn’t know if I would and there’s some things I don’t like— it’s always so… loud here, but the variety of stuff to see and eat is amazing. Like, I never had Malaysian food before moving here and now I don’t know how I would live without good roti just a call away. And, I don’t know, there’s just something about Gotham?”

“The city has a way of sinking into your bones,” Dick agreed.

“You aren’t from here either, right?”

“Nope! But I’ve been here for over half my life now. It’s weird and fucked up but it’s home and I love it,” Dick said with a shrug. “Think you’ll stay?”

Years of training kept Dick from flinching when Jason kicked him under the table.

The fish glanced at Jason for a moment. “Um, well, I guess that depends on if I can find a job or not. But I think I’d like to, if I can.”

“Sorry,” Dick said with a laugh. “You’re probably just worried about your next test at the moment. So exploring Gotham, school, video games— have you faced off against Jason in Mario Kart or Smash yet?”

“No,” Fish said, drawing the word out as he turned to Jason. “I am betrayed. Wounded. You didn’t tell me you played video games!”

Oh yeah, Dick liked Jason’s aquatic boyfriend.

“Just those two really.”

“And Animal Crossing. Our sister Cass got him totally hooked on Animal Crossing,” Dick said, bracing for another kick. Yep, there it was. “You should get him to show you his island. It has a miniature golf course and everything.”

Danny grinned. “Oh you are so showing me that later.”

The tip of Jason’s ears were bright red. “Yeah, sure, whatever.”

“Tonight though! Tonight we have an epic brother versus brother versus fish racing battle,” Dick crowed.

“Oh you’re just lucky it’s not Smash, you might actually have a chance,” Danny said with a slightly feral smile.

“It’s on.”

It was indeed on.

The races were fierce battles and the fish was no guppy, but Dick had been trained against other superheros and set after set came away with the crown.

Several sets in, Fish’s phone went off, making him jolt. “Oh, shit, that’s my alarm to catch the subway home. I better run.”

“I can give you a ride home if you want?” Dick offered, putting his own controller down.

“No, it’s fine! I know it’s still early, I’ve just got this paper to get finished up in the next few days and I’m making myself work on it some each night,” Fish said, leaning over the back of the couch to reach for his bag.

Jason reached out to steady Fish by holding onto the back of his hoodie.

Dick stole Fish’s phone from the gesturing arm. “I’m putting my number in.”

“What? Oh, yeah, sure,” Fish said, lunging forward suddenly. When Jason yanked him back, Fish had his backpack in hand.

Jason clutched Fish to his chest and sighed. “Fish—”

“I’m fine, you got me,” Fish said, grinning up at Jason.

Jason clearly tried to look stern for a moment before he sighed; his whole face softened with the act. He curled around Fish slightly, just enough to brush a kiss to Fish’s temple. “Course I do.”

Since he still had it in hand, Dick snapped a picture with Fish’s phone. He figured the two didn’t have a lot of photos as a couple yet, and they looked precious at the moment. It was clear how much adoration Jason had for Fish— and how happy Jason made Fish. Dick was glad they had found each other.

“Don’t forget your phone.”

“Thanks! It was nice meeting you,” Fish said, climbing out of Jason’s arms and grabbing his phone. “I’ll kick your ass next time!”

“You’re welcome to try,” Dick said cheerfully. “If only fish had more than a three second memory maybe you could get good.”

Fish rolled his eyes, but distracted himself by giving Jason a quick kiss. “I’ll see you this weekend?”

“Course, send me the plans. And text when you’re home safe.”

“Stop worrying,” Fish said as he swung on his backpack. “But I will. Have a good night you two!”

Both brothers bid Fish goodbye as he rushed out the door.

Dick waited till Jason had locked the door before, “Oh my god, Jaybird, you two are so adorable!”

“Dickhead,” Jason warned.

“No, I get to have this. My little brother has a boyfriend and is adorable with him! Did he send you the photo I took? Ask him to send you the photo I took and you’ll see too.”

Jason sighed, shaking his head as he came back to sit on the couch.

Dick leaned over to knock their shoulders together. “Hey, I’m happy for you. He seems like a really good guy. I’m glad you met him.”

“Yeah,” Jason said, that soft smile back on his face. “I’m glad too.”

-----

AN: And one of the Bats finally meets Danny! Or, well, Fish. That seemed to go well, right? Surely everything will be happy now. Are there enough fish puns/jokes? If not, feel free to suggest some! Much love to Moku for giving this an early read over when I was doubting the chapter.

Also I'm craving Malaysian food so badly now ;-;

Due to being shadow banned (they said glitch, but I still believe I got auto flagged for tagging too many people), I am no longer tagging for updates. It wasn't going to be doable in the new post editor anyways! To be notified, subscribe to this post instead!