#now his family are all dead and it’s just him and he just owns a little plant/cafe shop

[yinyuedijun]

FUNAYŪREI | sae x reader x rin

Sae still remembers what you'd been like as a little kid, arriving at their doorstep with nothing but a stuffed toy and a satchel full of clothes. He remembers how terrified you were of being thrown away again, and how you'd clung to him as soon as he told you that he'd be sure to take care of you. He remembers how you kissed him the night before he left for Spain, and he remembers your heartbreak when he pushed you away. It's for your own good, he'd said. One day you'll understand that this is wrong. If anything ever happened between us, it'd just hurt you in the end. Watching Rin kiss you now, Sae wishes he had just gone ahead and wounded you all those years ago.

9k words of the original version of desire path from sae's point of view, covering their childhoods. explanation on the relationship between the two versions here.

WARNINGS/CONTENT: incest (blood-related, half-siblings), implied past csa (off-screen, not involving rin or sae), cisfem reader, teenage sexuality, hurt/comfort, childhood romance, psychological drama, non-explicit sex between adults. use of japanese familial honorifics. see endnotes for translation of the title.

note: this fic started off as a deconstruction of itoshicest fics, where I asked myself, "what would it take for sae and rin to actually develop feelings for their younger sister?" the answer made for a very uncomfortable story, so please mind the warnings!

MDNI + DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT.

WHEN YOU WERE TWELVE YEARS OLD, YOU NEARLY DROWNED IN SAGAMI BAY. It was early March on a Sunday morning, so there was no one else on the beach, no responsible adults. It was just you, Rin, and Sae. You and Rin got it in your minds to have a swim race despite the high tide—maybe because of it, knowing the two of you—and for some stupid reason, Sae hadn't stopped you. It haunts him to this day that he didn't.

He remembers it all with stark, photographic precision: the seafoam and turquoise currents of Yuigahama beach; your arms flailing above the water's surface, riptide devouring your little form; the frigid chill of the sea as Sae dove toward you. Sae still has nightmares about your body after it was dragged out of the water, drenched and corpse-still on white sand. He remembers pressing his hands to your chest over and over, trying to pump the seawater from your lungs. He remembers the screaming, the crying, Rin's pale face as the two of them tried to wake you up.

He dreamt last night of the icy, smooth press of your lips as he tried to breathe life into you. He dreamt of holding you as you cried and gasped for air in his arms.

"You're awake," you say, and Sae turns.

He glances down at you. Your body is nude against the white sheets; your lips are still swollen from the night before. They curl sweetly, right beneath your adoring gaze. You had grown up looking at him like that, full of the unconditional type of trust of which only children are capable. You had kissed him looking like that, all sweet and tender for him last night. You had let him finish inside you looking like that, clinging to him and crying so needily as he filled you. I love you, you'd told him. I love you, I love you.

I love you, Nii-chan. So please don't leave us again.

Sae feels cold, like he's back in Sagami Bay. His lungs are filled with saltwater as he wades through the violent sea, and he can't breathe.

"Nii-chan?" you ask, pretty lashes framing your worried eyes, and he's swept up in the tide again, unable to save you.

SAE WAS NINE YEARS OLD WHEN HE MET YOU FOR THE FIRST TIME. You were a fragile little thing on his doorstep, carrying a stuffed animal and a satchel full of cheap clothes. Your eyes were heavy on the floor, framed by delicate lashes and weighed by shadows that belonged on the face of an adult. Sae remembers thinking that you must have been older than you actually were because of it; he'd never seen a child with such a solemn, tired expression.

Rin watched you with a curious gaze, perplexed at what was happening; Sae watched you with a wary one, the way he'd study an object on the verge of breaking: like a pretty vase sitting on the edge of a table, a flowerbed in the path of a careless shoe, a delicate sandcastle before a group of children.

Or his mother's trembling voice during an argument with their father, heard through thin walls.

On the morning before your arrival, Sae's mother had looked similarly on the verge of tears, but by the time she let you through the door, she had collected herself. She knelt down and gave you a kind, reassuring smile as she introduced you to Sae and Rin. "These are your new brothers," she told you, and you and Rin had both seemed uncertain about the declaration. Rin squinted at you, made a suspicious face; you shrank back from him, startled.

Sae, on the other hand, took it all in stride. His father had given him a talk about this, after all. As always, his tone had been calm and almost brisk. His face was stony too, eyes a cool, perfect blue—like he was on the phone with some businessman, rather than talking to his son.

You have a sister, he'd said, just a little younger than Rin. She's coming to live with us. You're the oldest, so it's your job to take care of her. Tell Rin to be nice to her, too—she's been through a lot. She's very shy, and she scares easily. She'll probably be nervous around you both.

Sae had asked what you'd been through, and he hadn't gotten an answer. He'd also asked why you didn't live with them beforehand, and why he didn't know you existed until that day, and if you were the reason why their mother had been crying so much lately, but he didn't get answers for those questions, either—only a deep frown and curt warning, words taut with carefully restrained anger. Sae was a smart enough kid to know to stop asking questions then.

All those details stopped mattering to Sae as soon as he met you, anyway. His heart ached for you from the moment he first laid eyes on you—why, he doesn't know. He guesses that it's because you had been such a fragile little thing, too scared to look anyone in the eye, too nervous to make the slightest noise—unless it was at night, and you were all alone. He heard you then, your room separated from his by only a thin wall: crying in your sleeping moments, sniffling in your waking ones. It kept him awake, thinking about what could make a person cry like that. About how evil someone would need to be to hurt someone like you.

Sae decided that he didn't care what had happened to you. He was only glad that it wasn't happening anymore, and that it would never happen again.

IT WOULD TAKE NEARLY TWO MONTHS BEFORE RIN AND SAE LEARNED WHAT YOUR VOICE SOUNDED LIKE. Whatever the two of them did, you wouldn't talk. Sae guesses that he approached it all wrong with you from the start, and it was a slow, painstaking process of earning your trust after that. He hadn't been a particularly nice kid, always blunt and a little unapproachable to most people. Even with his little brother, he'd never been outwardly nice in the honeyed type of way that most people liked, but he didn't need to be. Rin always understood that he was kind, gentle in his own way.

But even though you were going to be his new youngest sibling, Sae quickly learned that his usual way of speaking wouldn't work with you. A flat voice would make you uneasy, and any neutrality in his expression got read as anger. You told him as much years later, a finger tracing the flat line of his mouth, a little smile blooming at the quirk of his brow.

That kind of face would have terrified you when you were a child. You laughed when you said as much: "I was such a paranoid kid, wasn't I? Way too sensitive. Bet it was annoying for you."

Sae didn't laugh at you, then. He didn't even smile.

"I didn't find it annoying," was all he said. His voice was curt. You hesitated, but quickly relaxed. Kissed him on the cheek and said he'd always been so kind, and then he had to cast away his gaze.

For ages, Sae kept using his natural expressions and voice, and was confused at how you never reacted well to his attempts at being kind. At dinnertime, Sae would ask you which dish was your favourite—he wanted to grab some for you before Rin could inhale it all, he said—and you wouldn't answer. In the evenings, Sae would wrestle the remote away from Rin and ask what you wanted to watch—otherwise it'd be Chibi Marukochan again—but you only looked away, fidgeting. He asked you, of course, if you wanted to play soccer with them, but you just gave him a helpless look and never seemed happy to come along.

Even Rin—sweet in the way that Sae wasn't, gentle and open like their mother—had trouble with you. You weren't scared around Rin, but you still didn't know how to react to his friendliness. On weekends, Rin would take you to Sae's soccer matches, narrate his older brother's every move, and you would hardly react. You only watched Sae from your seat, quiet and obedient next to Rin. His little brother found it deeply frustrating—weren't you being kind of rude?—and Sae remembers having to defuse a temper tantrum that would have definitely terrified you.

Some years later, Rin commented on what a weird kid you'd been when you first arrived, and you shrugged it off.

"I just didn't know the answers to any of those questions," you explained. Rin gave you a sceptical look.

"You didn't know what foods you liked to eat? Or what shows you wanted to watch?"

"Nope. I didn't get to watch TV before I lived here, so I didn't know any kid's shows. And my mom and dad never fed me anything decent, so I didn't have any favourite foods."

"Like, they were bad cooks?"

"Something like that."

"And you ignored me during all those soccer matches, because…?"

"I didn't know the rules. I had no idea what was going on, so I couldn't comment."

"You could have asked me to explain things."

"I was scared you'd get mad at me, if I did."

"What?" Rin frowned then, and Sae wondered if his brother would finally put together the pieces. "I wouldn't get mad at you over something like that."

"Are you sure?" You sat up, gave him a playful little smile. "You get mad and petty about stupid shit all the time when it comes to soccer, Rin-chan."

"I do not. And"—Rin scowled, drawing a giggle out of you—"don't call me that. I'm older than you."

"We're basically the same age!"

"Not by several months." Rin glanced at Sae. "You address him properly. Why not me?"

"Because I like you less."

"You little—"

A squeal. Rin's arms had locked around your waist, and now you were squirming in his grip, peals of laughter escaping you as his hands found your most ticklish spots. Rin's mouth twitched despite the glare he was trying to feign, his eyes bright. Endeared. Sae found himself shifting restlessly, watching Rin's face, listening to your unabashed joy.

"Rin," he interrupted. "Hold her there for a sec."

"What?" you yelped. You looked up at Sae, wide-eyed and pleading. You even batted your lashes at him—long, pretty; you had worn a lot of mascara that day, and Sae knew it was because you were planning to spend time with him—but he just gave you an unimpressed stare and flicked you on the forehead.

"Behave," he said. "Don't be rude."

"Fine." You pouted, turning around and making a face at Rin. "Can you please let me go, Rin-nii?"

"I guess."

When Rin released you, you gave him a peck on the cheek, and he returned it with a look of mild revulsion, wiping away the pink stain you'd left next to his mouth. You didn't pay him any mind though, just shifting over to Sae and pressing yourself to him. You did the doe-eyed thing again, squeezing his arm as you looked up at him.

"See? I'm well-behaved."

He gave you a flat look. "Hm. I wonder."

Sae remembers the shiny pout of your lips in that moment—calculated, glossy, strawberry-flavoured. You'd dragged him out shopping a week earlier and pointed at a new lip collection, locking your fingers with his and pulling him toward the display. You only let him go so that you could swatch pink-red lines onto your wrist, telling him to choose which shade he liked best on you. Then you noticed they were flavoured and you asked him which fruit he most preferred.

Cherry is his favourite, but he'd lied.

IT WASN'T THAT YOU LIKED RIN LESS. It was more that you liked Sae differently, at least when you were kids. At least before Spain. He supposes that it was because he was the first and only person you started trusting, after you arrived—something that was inevitable, he thinks.

He'd been the eldest, after all. It had been his job to take care of you.

Sae had been the first person to get you to talk, all those years ago. He'd spent weeks thinking of ways to do it, stretching his little kid brain to its very limits. He had high hopes for the soccer plan, because who didn't enjoy that game? He and Rin spent weeks trying to teach you how to play, and although you could go through the motions well enough, it didn't change your perpetual silence. Sae eventually told Rin to give up on the lessons; it snowballed into an argument that only ended when Sae pointed out that the faces that Rin made during games spooked you.

Then there were the ice pops. It was a natural extension of soccer, since he and Rin always grabbed some after practice. They had you join them, and for nearly three weeks in a row, you kept getting those elusive winning popsicle sticks. Rin and Sae both cheered each time you did—yes, even though Sae, himself, was losing—but you'd only returned their excitement with an uncertain look.

But once, when Rin commented on how jealous he was of all your free ice creams, you gave him both your popsicle stick and a shy little smile. Rin didn't even understand, at first, what you were trying to do—but then you pushed it into his hand, a wooden little stick with WINNER written at the end. All your good luck going to the palm of your brother's hand, along with the first smile they'd ever seen from you.

It sent Rin over the moon.

Sae never told him this, but Rin was a little unbearable about it. He kept on beaming about it and wouldn't stop showing Sae that dumb popsicle stick for days, and he ended up hanging onto it instead of trading it in for ice cream. Sae knows that he's kept it to this day: on the desk of his childhood bedroom, next to all his MUJI pens. Your very first gift to him—to either of them—and his little brother's good luck charm.

Rin seemed happy with you then, willing to let things go as long as you kept smiling. But it wasn't enough for Sae.

He needed you to talk.

IT FINALLY HAPPENED DURING PRINCESS MONONOKE.

Rin—the little weirdo—routinely asked to watch that film every once in a while because it was his favourite. Why he was so obsessed with the scariest Studio Ghibli movie to ever exist, Sae would never know. But he humoured Rin nevertheless, and he also humoured Rin's request for you to join one of their rewatches.

Obviously, you ended up shaking and terrified, trembling in your seat and watching the film through your fingers. Rin didn't notice, but Sae did.

"Do you want to stop the movie?" he asked.

Your eyes went even wider, as if Sae scared you more than the film did, but you shook your head anyway. He squinted at you.

"You're sure? I won't mind stopping."

You glanced at his brother, who was too deeply engrossed in an absolutely revolting scene of a demon to notice any of this, and Sae immediately understood your concern.

"Don't mind Rin. He's seen this a million times."

But you shook your head again, and Sae relented. He unfurled a quilt that typically lived on the couch and laid it out over the both of you, then offered you a cotton edge. At your curious look, he explained, "It's kinda nice to have a blanket to hang onto when a movie gets too scary." Pause. "Plus it's cozy."

And Sae wanted you to be cozy.

You nodded. You burrowed fully into the blanket, nestled your face into the turquoise patterned fabric and studied Sae carefully. He pretended to focus on the movie, but he heard it when you finally talked for the first time, voice tiny and on the verge of breaking—

"Thank you."

THAT SIMPLE ACT OF GIVING YOU A QUILT CHANGED EVERYTHING. Sae hadn't known that a person could be so obsessed with a blanket, wrapping yourself into it at every opportunity. He even caught you going to bed with it, but he never commented on it, not wanting to scare you off. You'd been crying less at night lately, and he was sure it had something to do with that blanket.

You'd also been doing better during the day. Although you were still never comfortable around their parents, you were now noticeably more relaxed around Sae. Gravitated toward him, even. You always tried to sit next to him or stand near him, and you always did kind little favours for him too, the sorts of things he'd done for you: pouring him tea, putting food on his plate at dinner, taking the remote when it was offered to you and flipping to Chibi Marukochan.

Sometimes he made funny faces at you—the awkward, toothy expressions he'd usually make at Rin—and instead of being unnerved, you'd now actually laugh.

You had a wide grin, with an adorable gap where you'd lost your baby tooth. Delicate crinkles at the corners of your crescent eyes. Pretty gleam to your irises as you shone in the midday sun. Those moments where he caught glimpses of those things from you—Sae remembers being mesmerised by them, back when he was a kid. He's still mesmerised by it now, stares whenever your mouth curls up, all honeyed and bright.

Often, he caught you beaming as you sat next to Rin, watching his soccer matches. During those fleeting glances Sae snuck at you during halftime, he'd see you waving at him wholeheartedly. Sae wasn't a particularly expressive kid himself, but his lips always twitched up at the sight of you so happy.

Still, you had your bad nights. Progress has never been linear with you, not now and not back then. Sae recalls one midnight where you had a crying fit that disintegrated into a violent string of coughs, each one so powerful that it made him wince.

He wondered how the whole house wasn't awake, listening to your pain. Rin always slept like a rock—Sae could see him snoring away in the other bed, so it made sense that he wasn't bothered—but surely their parents were hearing this? But then he decided not to linger on it for too long.

It didn't matter since he was going to help you anyway.

He ended up knocking on your door with a glass of water. Almost immediately, all the shifting in your room stopped, almost like you were trying to silence yourself. But Sae could hear the coughs being torn violently from your throat, even though they now sounded strained and muffled.

"Hey," he called out softly. "It's me. Are you awake?"

Silence. Sae knew to give it a moment before he tried again.

"Can I come in?"

If it had been anyone other than you, you told Sae years later, your fingers running lazily through his hair, lifting the bangs out of his face, I wouldn't have said anything. I'd have pretended to be sleeping. But I let you in because it was you. You squeezed his hand, then, and your eyes were close—so close, heavy on his own and weighed down by the vulpine flick of your eyeliner, by the mascara sooty and thick on neatly curled lashes, by your childhood shadows. Your strawberry gloss shone next to his lips, and your heated and tender words kissed them: Do you understand what I'm saying, Nii-chan? If it had been anyone else, I wouldn't have been—

"...okay."

When Sae crept into your room, found an empty bed. You were hiding underneath it, curled up in the tiny space between the floor and the mattress, hugging the quilt he'd handed to you weeks ago. He crouched down, showed you the glass of water. Sae wasn't sure if the offering would be enough to draw you out from under the bed, but another coughing fit—this one strong enough to make you teary-eyed—had you crawling out. You mumbled a little thank you as you took the glass from him and drank.

"You haven't cried like that in a while," Sae commented, and you gave him a stricken look. After a long moment of unadultered panic in your eyes, he heard you string more than two words for the first time:

"...s-sorry. I'm really sorry." You were looking down at the floor, and it was like all the progress Sae had made over the past several weeks had gone up in smoke—you looked petrified, small, a cornered animal with nowhere to run. "I didn't know you could hear me."

"Don't apologize. I don't mind it."

"...you're not mad?"

Sae thought it was a funny question. "No. Who'd get mad at something like that?"

You didn't reply, just looking away, and Sae felt a little frustrated, then. He'd been working so hard to make you feel comfortable and thought he'd finally made some progress—but now he was seeing you regress in real time. Back into the fragile little thing that his parents had decided to adopt out of the blue, looking like you couldn't trust anything around you. Like you couldn't trust him. Sae couldn't help but think—

"You don't like it here, do you."

Even at that age, you had a distinctly doe-eyed look when you were confused, and he remembers staring at it.

"No," you said. "I do."

"Then how come you don't wanna talk to any of us?"

Maybe his voice was a little too harsh. Or a little too blunt. You flinched, your body retreating into the turquoise shell of your quilt.

"Sorry."

"That's—" Sae paused, chewing his lip. Tried to make his voice as gentle as possible, because he knew his usual tone would scare you. "...you don't need to be sorry. I'm not mad. I just wanna know what's been making you so upset. Like—how come you always cry at night?"

You got that nervous, uncertain look in your eye again, and Sae got the distinct feeling that you were wondering if this whole conversation was some kind of trick. He added, "I just wanna know how to cheer you up. I don't like seeing you so sad all the time."

You blinked, gave him a surprised look, but it was fleeting, quickly making way for another gloomy expression. "You don't need to worry about me… I don't think I'm going to stay here for very long."

Sae's brow furrowed. His mom had made it sound like you were going to be his little sister just like how Rin was his brother—that is, permanently. "Why not?"

The face you made was so miserable that it startled Sae. He hadn't had a lot of experience with sadness as a kid—most of what he'd witnessed revolved around soccer, when the opposing team lost, and Sae never felt very sorry for them. Sometimes Rin would throw tantrums or cry over silly things, but those were easy to handle. Sae supposed that the worst sadness he'd ever seen was in his mother, who tried her best to hide it—

—but not even her saddest expressions could compare to how shattered you looked in that moment.

"...your dad doesn't actually want me here, Sae-san."

Sae's brow creased. You have a new sister, he recalled. You need to take care of her, OK?

"That can't be right," Sae replied. "Dad said he wanted you to be part of this family. He even said I should look after you."

Instead of responding, you looked long and hard at Sae, and for the first time, he experienced the strange feeling of being dissected by you. He felt translucent and naked under your eyes—keen for such an innocent age, seeing everything in the dark.

"We have the same father, but different moms. You know that, right?" you asked quietly.

He didn't.

"Your dad didn't like my mom very much, and that's why he didn't want me. He's only being forced to take me now 'cause my mom decided she didn't want me either." Your eyes started to shimmer, and you hid them in your blanket. "My stepdad and my brother also left 'cause they didn't want me. And I don't think your mom likes me very much, either. So"—you breathed in deep and whispered, and Sae felt like he was watching a vase tip over the edge, a sandcastle crumbling into dirt, his mother crying as she fumbled for her cigarettes when she thought no one was watching—"it's not gonna be very long 'til your parents throw me away too."

Sae went silent. If his heart ached for you when he first laid eyes on you, then it was being crushed right now. He didn't think very hard about it when he placed a hand over one of yours.

"They wouldn't do something like that," he said.

Your fingers twitched under his, like you wanted to pull away.

"They want to. I can tell."

You're just imagining things, Sae nearly replied, but then he remembered that he'd never once heard his parents come here at night to check on your crying, and then he went quiet.

"...it doesn't matter," he eventually decided. "I won't let them."

A little sniff. "No?"

"No. I'll make sure you stay with us."

You blinked the saltwater away from your lashes, then gave him a curious look. "Why?"

"Because I'm your brother, and it's my job to take care of you."

"Really?" you asked, voice watery.

His eyes softened, his usual impassivity crumbling for you.

"Really. I would never let anyone throw you away," he said, and the words felt so ugly in his mouth that he couldn't fathom how anyone had done that to you. How anyone could have done anything to you. You were so sweet, and so kind, and so vulnerable, and it left him feeling sick when he imagined you being hurt in any way. "I'll keep you safe. Promise."

Sae nearly jumped when he felt something move in his hand. He looked down, saw your little fingers prodding at his own, and he offered you his open palm. You took it readily, Sae found himself transfixed by the latticework of your entwined fingers.

"Thank you, Sae-san."

"It's nothing," he wrote off. His thumb rubbed the back of your hand, gentle in a way that his voice wasn't. "But I'm your brother now, remember? You should address me properly."

You smiled a little, studying your interlocked fingers, and Sae felt a peculiar warmth in his chest, an uptick in his pulse.

"Okay, Nii-chan."

Nii-chan. Sae's always loved hearing that title in your mouth. Not out of a demand for respect the way Rin obsesses over it, but because you've always seemed so happy to say it, the syllables sweetened by your adoring tongue. Okay, Nii-chan, you've always said. I'll listen to you, Nii-chan. I trust you, Nii-chan. I love you, Nii-chan. I love you, I love you, I love you.

So please don't leave us again.

Please don't throw me away.

THE SIGNS HAD ALL BEEN THERE FROM THE VERY BEGINNING, and Sae’s often regretted not being old enough to see them until it was too late. He had just been a kid at the time, stupid and shortsighted and ignorant about the world beyond the touchlines of a football pitch. Even within the perimeters of his own childhood home, he struggled with making the right choices. Later on, it started to feel like if he made even one wrong move, the whole thing would fall apart—crumble like dry sand, or shatter like glazed porcelain.

Take, for instance, your habit of sleeping under the bed: something that Sae ended up catching you doing multiple times, whenever he visited at night. It bothered him deeply, but he was too young to know what to make of it, and too young to know what to do about it. When he asked you about it, you just did that thing where you apologised and curled up into yourself, so Sae quickly abandoned the notion of talking through it with you.

So he turned to his mother instead, and she wrote it off as a fun little game you were probably playing with yourself. Then he mentioned it to his father, who shrugged and said your mother—your real mother, Sae later figured out he meant—had never mentioned anything about it, so it likely wasn’t a problem. Sae was left to ponder it on his own, and he was so perplexed that even Rin intuited that something was off.

“Nii-chan,” he said one day, on their way home from practice, “is something the matter?”

"Huh?" Sae blinked, torn from his thoughts. "What do you mean?"

"You look upset." Sae's brows shot up; Rin had never before been so observant. "Is something bothering you?"

“...nothing you need to worry about,” Sae reassured Rin, but that only made his younger brother frown.

“Tell me! I wanna know.”

“It’s boring stuff,” Sae waved off, but that only made Rin grab his arm and start shaking it like a ragdoll.

“Tell me.”

“No.”

“Tell me.”

“No.”

“Nii-chan! Tell meeee.”

Sae tried not to groan. More to appease Rin than anything else, he said, “I’m just worried about our little sister. She does this weird thing where she sleeps under her bed instead of on it… and I dunno why.”

Rin blinked at him, seeming unbothered. “I don't think that's that weird. Maybe she's playing with a friend, or something.”

Sae hummed. Rin had, in fact, gone through a phase where he watched all of Sae’s football matches with an imaginary friend that sounded more or less identical to No-Face from Spirited Away. (Why a five year-old would envision such a terrifying imaginary friend, Sae would never understand.) It wasn’t a crazy idea that you might have your own No-Face hiding beneath your bed, but thinking about all your crying at night, Sae had a hard time believing you were there because of any kind of imaginary games.

“I don’t think she does,” Sae decided. “She never seems like she's having any fun.”

“Huh. Then maybe she’s hiding from something?”

Sae squinted at his little brother. “What would she be hiding from?”

“Tons of things. Ghosts, monsters…”

Sae hummed, considering. Rin had also gone through a phase where he genuinely thought their house was being visited at night by a funayuurei from Sagami Bay. In those days, he couldn't sleep unless he was in the same bed as Sae, and even then he'd spent most of his time trembling under the sheets rather than peacefully dreaming. It had taken a great number of late nights, broken curfews, and one stolen camcorder (which Sae still needed to sneak back into their father’s study) to show Rin that no such spirit existed.

Sae wondered if his little brother had forgotten all his efforts.

“Ghosts aren't real, remember?” he reminded him.

“I know they’re not real,” Rin said, “but maybe she doesn’t?”

You didn’t, the both of them would later find out. You still believed in ghosts, monsters, curses and the like. But believing in spirits was different from fearing them, and though you’d never tell Sae this, it wasn’t a ghost that had been haunting you for all those years.

RIN HADN'T BEEN ENTIRELY WRONG. It was fear that had been driving you under the bed. When Sae asked you about it—“Are you under there because you’re hiding from something?”—you finally admitted to it, nodding wordlessly as you crawled out into the open space before Sae. You didn’t say what you were hiding from, but he assumed you were the same as Rin: you must have been afraid of a vengeful spirit, maybe a ghost rising from the waters of Sagami Bay. Sae wouldn’t have blamed you. The ocean often made eerie noises at night, and even having grown up next to it, sometimes Sae would feel unsettled.

“You don’t have to be afraid,” he said gently. “Nothing here is gonna hurt you. I promise.”

You fiddled with the edges of your quilt, playing with a loose thread. Sae made a mental note to cut it later, before it started unravelling.

“I just feel better sleeping underneath the bed,” you said.

He frowned. “If it actually made you feel better,” Sae pondered, “then why are you always crying?”

You went quiet, brow sloping up and eyes dropping down. Sae didn't pressure you to speak more. Instead, he tried again: "Do you think there's something else that could actually make you feel better?"

Hesitation. A shy look. You seemed almost embarrassed, and that's how Sae knew that you had an idea.

"You can tell me," Sae prompted. He reached out for your hand—slowly, in case you wanted to pull away, but you let him cradle the warmth of your palm with his own—and said, "You can trust me. I promise."

"...I also used to hide under the bed in my old home," you started, voice halting.

Sae waited patiently.

"...I was always too scared to sleep on top. But my brother noticed, and he started letting me sleep with him." Your eyes grew soft, your mouth curving into a gentle slope. "Nii-chan was the best. He made me feel really safe. But then he…"

Threw me away, Sae knew you were thinking, so he didn't let you finish. He just said, "Then you can sleep with me."

A surprised little blink. "Are you sure? I don't want to be a bother…"

"I won't mind. Rin and I used to share a bed together, 'cause he was afraid of ghosts, so I'm used to it…" His grip tightened. "And anyway, I'm your new Nii-chan. I don't mind doing things that your brother used to do for you."

You smiled then, fragile but sure. Sae got that warmth in that chest again, and he felt he was doing the right thing that night, letting you climb into bed with him. You waved at Rin, who was lying in his own bed, watching the two of you curiously as you settled under the sheets together. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Sae thought he should talk to Rin about what was going on, but right now he was focused on making sure you were comfortable. He didn't have time to make things clear for his little brother, not when he was occupied with you.

This arrangement wasn't a perfect fix—after the lights went out, he could feel you shaking like a scared little fawn—so he shifted toward you, hoping he could help.

"Hey," he whispered. "Are you still feeling scared?"

"...a little." You sounded ashamed. "I'm really sorry, Nii-chan."

"It's okay," he whispered. "Just remember I'll keep you safe. I won't let anything hurt you."

"...I know you won't," you said after a little bit, and then you added, "I trust you, Nii-chan. I promise. I just… gotta get used to sleeping like this, again."

Sleeping on top of your bed, Sae knows you mean. Sleeping without hiding.

"Is there anything else your stepbrother did to make you feel better?"

Another silence—shy again, hesitant. Sae thinks it had been a sign of trust when you said, "He used to hold me. And he held my hand. But"—you sounded frantic, now, like you were scared you'd made a mistake—"you don't have to if you don't wanna, Nii-chan. I don't wanna bother you, so—"

"I won't mind." He inched closer to you. "Not if it'll make you feel safer."

Holding Rin isn't something he'd ever done, so it didn't come naturally to him, doing it with you. But he let his arms cradle your warmth, let you nestle your face into the crook of his neck, let your breath sweep over his racing jugular. Let you cling to him, the way you clung to your quilt during all those nights beneath the bed. Let himself shield you from whatever ghosts you'd been seeing—let him be your thing to hold onto while scared.

It was the right thing to do at the time: Sae had been sure of it. The easy rhythm of your sleeping breath told him so, as did the honest trust in your eyes every night—the kind of trust that a little kid could only give their brother. The kind of trust not unlike the blind faith that Rin would later have in their dream. The kind of trust that Sae had in his mother, who was always kind and loving even if she sometimes seemed a little shattered.

The kind of trust that Sae wanted, even at that young age, to honour.

It was the right thing for him to do, to hold you like that and keep you safe.

It was the right thing for you to do, to trust him so dearly.

He doesn't know when all the right things started bleeding wrong.

YOU ACTUALLY LATER FOUND, IN YOUR TEENAGE YEARS, THE NOTION OF HAUNTINGS A LITTLE FUNNY. You told Rin that you'd been desensitised to it from all the horror movies he'd made you watch; you could only see so many variations of Noroi and The Exorcist before getting bored. Even The Shining was losing its charm. But the slasher films never got old for you: you had endless patience for home invasions, serial killers, psychological stuff. They were more real, you said. People were tangible. Ghosts were not.

Once, on a visit from Spain, Sae had joined the two of you for a movie. Despite your disinterest in it, you still clung onto Sae the way you always had as a child. Your hold on him felt different now that you were grown—sly and silky, bare legs thrown across his lap and body pressed into his side, head on his shoulder. Every shift of your thighs over his lap felt precise, intentional: designed to distract Sae from the screen. You whined at him to hold you and when he asked why, you gave him a watery look and said you were scared.

You weren't even looking at the TV.

"You said you found ghost movies stupid," he said, in the sort of voice that clearly implied you're bullshitting me. You drew closer to him anyway, your arms looping around his neck. The cool mint of your breath swept over his lips as you laughed, and he was keenly aware of the thin space separating your mouth from his.

"Did I say that?" Your lashes fluttered. "I think you're misremembering. I'm terrified."

"Are you, now."

"Of course. Would I lie about something like that?"

Absolutely, Sae stopped himself from saying.

"I don't think I'll be able to sleep alone later, Nii-chan. I might get nightmares." You tilted your head, gave him a pleading look. "You won't mind if I sleep with you tonight, right?"

"You already sleep with me every night," Sae pointed out flatly. You'd retained the habit from when you were a child, and he didn't know how to stop indulging you. "I should start kicking you out."

"If you're getting tired of me," you said, "I could always go sleep with Rin-chan instead."

Sae imagined it for a moment: you curling up in Rin's bed the way you'd been doing beneath Sae's sheets since childhood, wearing nothing but one of his t-shirts and a pair of panties—lacy, sheer, and colourful, Sae knew from the number of times you'd carelessly thrown your laundry into his basket. Bare legs tangled up with his, feathery breath on his cheek, strawberry fragrance in your hair. Seeking out his hand in your sleep, or settling into his arms, pressing your back against his chest and your waist against his hips. Baring your neck to him too, its slope pretty and delicate.

Once Sae pointed out that you shouldn't sleep in such compromising positions with other people; they might get the wrong idea. You'd tilted your head and asked what sort of ideas he was getting, and Sae had violently recoiled.

None, obviously. I'm your brother.

Okay, then, you'd said, settling into bed. You undid your bra beneath his t-shirt, took it off and threw it to the side; he tried his hardest not to look at it. Since you're my brother, there's nothing for me to worry about. Pretty eyes, innocent smile. You wouldn't do anything bad to me, right? I can trust you.

Maybe you'd offer that blind trust to Rin, too. And why wouldn't you? Rin was also your brother. He wouldn't ever think of doing anything to you, just like how Sae never would. You could safely sleep next to Rin, let him put his hands all over your silhouette, press all your curves into him—give him full access to your sleeping, vulnerable body, and…

Sae felt like he was going to throw up.

"No chance in hell you're sleeping with me," Rin shot down before Sae could, and Sae released a breath he didn't know he'd been holding.

"What?" you exclaimed at Rin, feigning hurt. "Why?"

"Because you're way too clingy in your sleep and you're a blanket hog," he groused. "Now be quiet or get a room. We're getting to the good part."

Sae's gaze snapped to Rin. "How do you know that?" he demanded.

Rin gave him a funny look. "Because I've watched this movie before…?"

"No—I mean, how do you know that she's clingy when she's asleep?"

"Oh. Because of that time you went to football camp when we were kids. She got scared by herself at night, so she slept with me, and it was"—Rin shot you a disgruntled look—"the worst sleep of my life. Thought you were gonna suffocate me."

"You loved it," you shot back. "You were just as cuddly as me."

"What?" Rin sounded defensive. "No I wasn't."

"Yes you were," you practically sang, mouth curling. "It surprised me a lot—that's why I still remember it. You were very touchy with me, Rin-chan."

"I was trying to get my blanket back from you, dumbass." Rin rolled his eyes, then turned back to the screen, where Sadako had made it halfway out of her TV before Rin had pressed pause to argue with you. "Anyway, like I said. Be quiet or get a room."

Rin returned to the movie, and even you did—placing your head on Sae's shoulder, a haunting playing out before your eyes. But Sae couldn't focus, could only look at the pale glow of the TV on you, shining white in your irises.

Get a room, he kept thinking. Get a room.

Get a room for what?

The question brought up that swell of nausea in Sae's belly again, that urge to lie about the strawberry-sweetness of you. That violent repulsion when you'd given him with your big, innocent eyes, asking, What ideas have you been getting, Nii-chan? That oppressive heat that crept through his body every time he saw your colourful lace in his dirty laundry, or damp between your thighs whenever you bent over to turn off the lights.

That feeling of wrongness that was somehow born from all his attempts to do the right thing.

When you settled into his arms later that night and pressed a chaste little kiss to his jaw, his pulse raced, flooding heat into his veins. He looked at you, and he saw bare skin and pretty lashes and long legs wrapped up in his own. He looked at you, and he saw a fragile little thing on his doorstep, too scared to say a word to anyone, too frightened to sleep on her own.

He looked at you, and something in his chest split like porcelain.

Sae wonders, now, when he'd become the very thing that's been haunting you your whole life.

YOU WERE JUST A CHILD WHEN YOU KISSED SAE FOR THE FIRST TIME. Seven years old and tender in the dark, seeking comfort in his arms. Sae had just shaken you awake from a nightmare, held you close and told you that you were alright: you were here, you were in bed with your big brother, and ghosts weren't real so you didn't have to be scared—but even if they were, Sae would protect you from them.

It worked, but poorly. You stopped crying and quieted down, but then started clinging onto him, shivering and desperate.

Sae wasn't sure about how to handle this. Rin had never gotten like this before, not even while he was having his worst dreams about his funayuurei. But then he remembered how often you said you liked it when your stepbrother held you, so Sae did that for you: put his arms around you and let you cry. It felt easy doing it, instinctive. Something an older brother would naturally do for his little sister.

When you leaned back, thoroughly cried out, Sae cupped your face with your hands and started wiping away your tears with his thumbs: another thing your stepbrother once did for you. Another thing that came naturally to him.

He asked, "Is there anything I can do to make you feel better?" Sae was ready to steal his father's camcorder back, spend more nights building pillow forts and hunting for ghosts. Or ready to grab your turquoise blanket and wrap it around your shaking body. Or ready to break into the kitchen and get you a midnight snack.

When you gave him a little nod, Sae expected any and all of those things.

He did not expect you to kiss him.

His mind went blank when he felt the shy press of your lips against his own. He wondered, for a moment, if he was dreaming, but you felt so real. So tangible.

  You waited patiently after you drew back, watching him carefully in a darkness thinned only by the fluorescence of plastic stars. His mother had put them on the ceiling for you and Rin, gotten a ladder so Sae could help too. He'd been the one to suggest that you and Rin be the ones to turn off the lights, each putting an index finger on the switch and flipping the room into darkness together. Wow! you'd both gasped, and your faces shone in the glow of those artificial stars.

It was the first time Sae's mother had seen you so full of joy. I didn't know that child could smile like that, she'd remarked quietly to Sae, watching you and Rin count the stars together. I was worried she'd never open up. But you've been so good to her, Sae. She's always happy around you.

Right now, your face was just as bright as it had been back then—and all Sae could think about was how he wanted to keep you glowing like that under his stars.

But something about that kiss unsettled him. It didn't feel wrong, exactly, but something that should be hidden—done in secret, made the subject of a lie.

And Sae didn't like lying.

As if sensing his hesitation, you gave him a guarded look, edging hurt. "You didn't like that?" you asked.

"No, I did," he said quickly. Instinctively. And then he remembered himself and added, "It's just… we shouldn't be kissing."

You tilted your head. "No?"

"No."

"Why not?"

Sae stopped. Why not, he wondered as well. If you asked Sae nowadays—twenty-four, a proper adult—he could give you a laundry list of reasons, each one more damning than the last. But Sae back then—nine years old, a stupid kid—was at a loss.

"I… Well, it'd just be wrong."

"Wrong, how?" you asked, and now your voice was thick with anxiety and Sae needed desperately to ease it.

"Well… it's just not something siblings do, y'know? I wouldn't kiss Rin."

As soon as the words left his mouth, Sae cringed. The thought of kissing Rin made him want to gag, and he knew he'd probably puke if he actually ever tried it. But you still kept staring, uncertain.

"Well," you said, "I guess I wouldn't kiss Rin either. But that's because I don't like Rin…" You gave him a little smile. "You're the one I want to kiss. Because I like you."

Sae's pulse fluttered. Pounded strangely in his ears, flooded his face with heat. He swallowed thickly as his mind played out your suggestion: closed eyes, your hand in his, the peck of your lips again—this time returned. A proper kiss, like the kind in movies. Oddly enough, the image didn't nauseate him at all, and Sae wondered if you were right: maybe his disgust at the thought of kissing Rin was only because he didn't like him.

Maybe Sae liked you.

But even though he wouldn't mind kissing you, something about the idea unsettled him. Family members just didn't kiss each other on the mouths—and even if he didn't know why, he knew it probably shouldn't happen.

In the absence of a concrete reason, Sae found himself unable to reply. It was especially hard to grasp at words when you were looking at him that way: so earnest, so shy, so pretty. Yes, you were pretty, Sae finally admitted—you were pretty behind chain link fences as you watched his matches, pretty in the sunset glow as the two of you walked home from practice, pretty even when you were a fragile little thing on his doorstep, with nothing but a stuffed toy and a satchel full of clothes.

You were pretty and sweet and kind, and Sae might have liked you, and he didn't know why he shouldn't.

In the end, all he could say was, "I think we'd get in trouble for it. And we're too young for that kind of thing, anyway."

You deflated, your brow crinkling as you looked away. "Oh. Sorry." Quietly, you added, "You're right. We would get in trouble."

"Yeah." Sae softened his voice a bit, already knew what to say: "But I'm not mad at you. You know that, right?"

You looked up at him, bottom lip trembling—and he hated that, couldn't stand to see it, thought it was like seeing a dandelion being crushed—but you gave him a little nod. He drew up the blankets over your shoulders and tucked you in, hoping it'd calm you.

"Let's just forget about this," he said, and you hummed in agreement.

Still, as Sae watched you press yourself to him and close your eyes, you murmured, "But I really do love you, Nii-chan. I just wanted to show you how much. 'cause you asked me what would make me feel better. Showing you would have."

Sae felt something in him twinge at the new word—love, you'd said, a funny thing to hear outside of a Ghibli movie—but you were fading now, voice soft like cotton candy. He thought you were actually sleep-talking and dreaming things up, maybe thinking of that film that Rin loved so much. That part where the cursed prince talked about loving that feral, orphaned girl, and the savage wolf god had laughed at him.

He wishes now that he could rewind time, shake you awake and say so many things to you. He'd have crushed you, left you joyless for a little bit, but it'd have been for your own good. You don't need to show someone that you love them by doing something like that, he could have said. Or—Siblings don't show each other love by kissing on the mouth. Or—You only want to do this because you don't know any better.

Or, most importantly—You shouldn't feel this kind of love for me.

But instead, all Sae did was tighten his hold on you and whisper, "It's okay."

END EXCERPT

note on the title: "funayuurei" are the vengeful ghosts of people who died in shipwrecks, drowning at sea. many funayuurei myths involve these malevolent spirits coming across other vessels at sea and trying to sink them, thus condemning the living to sharing their fate. rin's childhood fear of a funayuurei that emerges from sagami bay to visit their home does not have any basis in real-life folklore; it is just a child's nightmare that I invented for this fic.

SPOILER ALERT (tw suicide mention) but rin's fear of funayuurei and the motif of drowning/water/typhoons/etc. is extremely significant to the universe of desire path. that's why they feature heavily in both versions of the fic. the reader's biological mother actually drowned herself in sagami bay, which is something that the reader discovers in her teenage years. in both versions of the story, she never really recovers from it.

thanks for reading!

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

lilia dorm uniform vignettes + book 7 parallels

I was rereading Lilia's Dorm Uniform vignettes recently and honed in on the third part, which reminded me a lot of the events of book 7. I think it's highly likely that part 3 here foreshadows book 7, similar to how Ortho's Precision Gear vignettes foreshadowed the original Ortho's passing, revealed in book 6.

***Lilia Dorm Uniform vignette(s) and Book 7 spoilers!***

Quick recap, these vignettes focus on Lilia looking after a baby bat with an injury. The third and final part involves Malleus chatting with him about the experience. Lilia describes parenting as thus: "There's never a guarantee in life that someone will be there to support you. Once you fly out into the world, there may be days when you go without a proper meal and sleep on an empty stomach. You'll experience failures and setbacks. You may have days where your heart feels like it'll shatter into a thousand pieces. As long as you're alive, there will be moments—many moments, in fact—when you must face adversity entirely on your own. A parent must ensure their child can handle such harshness while the little one is still under their protection."

Knowing what we know now... It sounds as though Lilia is reflecting back on his time traveling the world in hopes of finding a way to hatch Malleus from the egg. Firstly, Lilia (especially in the past) has expressed sentiments about being alone. He was an orphan taken in as a ward by the Draconias, yet he still never felt as though he "fit", not with the way the senate treats him like a lesser being, and not with his two best friends (Maleanor and Raverne) marrying and conceiving a child--starting a family, something Lilia feels he does not have and cannot have himself. There's never a guarantee in life that someone will be there to support you. And that's true of Malleus as well. His father is missing and presumed dead, his mother died in a battle to ensure his safety, and his grandmother is kept busy with royal duties to be there for him all the time. That's why Lilia had to step up as his father figure--because otherwise Malleus would have no guidance, just like Lilia did in his youth, which led him into becoming closed off and unwilling to learn about the world beyond Briarland. He doesn't want Malleus--or any of his "kids"--to perpetuate the hatred and distrust that claimed so many lives and left scars on the survivors.

Once you fly out into the world, there may be days when you go without a proper meal and sleep on an empty stomach. This line is reflective of the experiences Lilia had on his travels. In the beginning, it was particularly difficult due to the prevailing anti-fae sentiments among humans. Lilia was not welcome in their communities; he'd have things and nasty words thrown at him and literally be chased out of towns. True, he's also had to deal with rations and always being alert while serving as a general, but it feels particularly frustrating in this context because 1) none of his men are around to support him in these moments; he is lacking the feeling of being a part of a group, and 2) the harsh treatment is being committed by a group for which he cannot retaliate, so it forces Lilia to stand there and just take it... Both conditions which are also true of Lilia when he is able to safely bring Malleus's egg to Castle Blackscale. The senate gang up on him, isolate him, and deem him unworthy of touching the heir... and Lilia can't do anything about it. He isn't accepted at home and he isn't accepted by the world. This makes it that much more meaningful when, later on his travels, he meets an elderly couple in Harveston that welcome him into their house and home. They offer him a warm bed, food, and, more importantly, they are his company. They want to hear his stories, learn more about him and his life experiences. They’re that light at the end of his tunnel--but those things aren't promised to him, and Lilia knows he can't count on them all the time, especially as he travels to the most remote regions. And don't we all fear that dreadful realization of being out on our own with no net to catch us if we fall?

You'll experience failures and setbacks. You may have days where your heart feels like it'll shatter into a thousand pieces. As long as you're alive, there will be moments—many moments, in fact—when you must face adversity entirely on your own. Again, Lilia is also speaking about himself. He was forced to abandon his princess and flee with her child. He lost his best friends and large sections of his home country to a bloody conflict. He took the senate's verbal abuse and degradation. All of this, he faced alone--even when Baur tries to stand up for him, Lilia silences his ally because, deep in his heart, he thinks he deserves this. The wild bat incapable of love, only able to slaughter, doomed to be alone forever. It's through his forced exposure to the world that Lilia learns to open up, and it's through the connections--after enduring so many hardships, so many trials and tribulations--he makes with others that he comes to learn he is capable of love. As Silver says, this must be why the happiest moment of his father's life is the moment of Malleus hatching. A dragon's egg can only do so with the love of a parent--and Lilia has always been that for him. Diasomnia is Lilia's new family, and he's no longer alone. The problem now is that it's Malleus's turn to learn harsh life lessons, and he isn't exactly prepared for them. A parent must ensure their child can handle such harshness while the little one is still under their protection. I think this line perfectly summarizes Lilia's motivations for leaving in the fashion that he does. When Lilia attempted to depart NRC without so much as a formal farewell to Malleus and Silver, many fans were confused as to why he was acting so callous towards his children. Some theorized that Lilia was lying about losing his magic or had some other ulterior motive for lying--when, really, I think the answer is much simpler than that. Lilia wanted to leave as soon as he could, without facing his kids, because that's just in his nature. As Malleus points out in the vignettes: "Is that why you took the approach you did? [...] I suspect this bat will thrive in the wild." This entire time, Lilia hasn't been the gentlest or the most prudent with the baby bat. He fed it milk from a cup instead of a bottle (which resulted in getting the bat all wet), roughly toweled it off, allowed it to hang in a tree when it may not be ready to fly yet, brushed off the possibility of it being hurt again if it falls out, etc. On a surface-level, it looks like bad caretaking. But Malleus wonders if it's intentional. Because the bat was put through those experiences, it can take care of itself once it has parted from Lilia's care. I suspect Lilia may think the same of how he raises his own children. After all, Silver and Sebek sometimes bring up how hellish Lilia's training sessions with them were. Some of his bad childcare is due to Lilia being disorganized and just winging it in the moment, yeah (something which Malleus comments on at the end of the vignettes)--but a lot of how he raises others is also built on the idea that this should make the kids stronger and able to stand on their own.

When Lilia goes to return the baby bat to its flock, he says, "Go on, little one. You can't cling to my hand forever. Get flying." Then Malleus laughs and remarks, "Heh, it seems rather attached to you. It doesn't want to let go." Lilia continues with, "I'm shaking my arm and it's still not letting go... Goodness gracious. I didn't raise [the baby bat] to be so clingy. There comes a time in every creature's life when they have to take action. This is your time, little one. Don't miss your window." And, at last, when the bat is able to take off, Malleus realizes, "[...] I must say, it was rather harsh of you to forcibly shake off the poor fellow when it clearly liked you. Did you intentionally act detached so that it wouldn't fall too far behind the colony?"

THIS WHOLE SCENE IS AN ANALOGY TO LILIA TRYING TO LEAVE NRC WITHOUT SAYING GOODBYE TO HIS KIDS.

In this analogy, Malleus is that bat that Lilia has reared--and when it comes time for Lilia to leave, Malleus won't allow for it. Malleus is the clingy baby bat gripping onto his caretaker for dear life. I wonder if Lilia knew that his prince would have a hard time with it, so he tries to have one last happy send-off--so he can grant Malleus the happiness of being invited to something, to be included, and to provide him ample opportunities to socialize with his peers from all the dorms and make other connections so they can be there for him when Lilia is no longer able to. Then Malleus was late, and the time for Lilia to depart has already arrived. But maybe it's better this way, Lilia may have reasoned with himself. If Malleus doesn't appear, maybe he can't be hurt. If Lilia acts detached, maybe... just maybe... it will give Malleus the final shove he needs to let him go, to open up to the people who are going to be present around him, so he won't "fall too far behind the colony", like what happened with the actual baby bat he raised. This is especially suspect because Lilia makes the same plea to the first years earlier in the party by asking them to please give Sebek a lil' push if he ever needs it. "Just... If you notice [Sebek is] ever stuck at some point during your time here... I would ask that you card soldiers give him a little nudge."

THE LILIA DORM UNIFORM CARD FIRST CAME OUT ON THE JP SERVER IN FEB 2023 ALONG WITH SOME EARLY BOOK 7 UPDATES 😩 It’s such good foreshadowing for what happens much later in the same book… OTL I just hope that Malleus is able to learn the lessons Lilia wants him to. Then Malleus can finally be the baby bat that’s able to take flight on his own and join a flock without his guardian at his side forever and ever…

[the-witty-pen-name]

The Love Triangle from Hell (4)

Steve Harrington x F!Reader / Eddie Munson x F!Reader

Synopsis: Following the events of PART THREE, things begin to heat up.

Word Count: 3.5k

Warnings: SMUT (18+ MINORS DNI), piv sex, oral (f receiving), dirty talk/nicknames, kissing, messy messy feelings; unrequited love; cursing; arguments; crying; hurt/comfort; angsty angst; allusions to violence; miscommunication; jealousy

Series Masterlist

A/N: I continue to be overwhelmed by the love you all have given this series. I appreciate you all so much. Everyone who have commented, reblogged and followed- thank you so much. I love reading everything and I have had so much fun seeing everyone's reactions. It fills me with so much joy. Let me know what you think of this next chapter!

Please vote for Eddie or Steve in the poll at the end while it is live! The results will be how I end this series <3 BUT, if you want me to do an alternative ending as like a bonus chapter let me know cause I'd love to do that too.

His knuckles were white from his grip on the steering wheel, Steve felt like he lost control of his actions as he resolved to follow Eddie’s van. Eddie had said you wanted space, but now he’s here picking you up from the game? What the actual fuck. He’s fuming, the longer the night goes on. He should’ve just gone home, probably. But he was so angry at himself for taking forever, he couldn’t wait another second. He’d finally had the epiphany. He loves you. He wants you so badly, he can’t find it in him to care if he ruins everything. 

Earlier that day, it had hit him all at once. That overwhelming, all encompassing realization that stopped him dead in his tracks. Robin had left for the day, and he was stuck behind the counter rewinding returned tapes. He’d been sitting with his own thoughts. He was thinking about that dream, and then he was also just thinking about you. You took up all his senses- all he could think about was you. He looked back on shared moments with you in a different light. So many moments between the two of you that would’ve been your start. How could he have not seen it, seen you, all this time? 

Oh. 

Oh. 

He’d bailed on the rest of his shift at Family Video, fuck it. Keith wouldn’t fire him anyways. He knew Robin mentioned the game- of course you’d be there. He’d realized he loved you and didn’t want to waste another second. He wanted to find you in the crowd, climb up over the stands to whoever you were, and finally fucking kiss you. It was his grand gesture. 

His plan would have worked, but it was easier said than done. The confidence he felt before was wiped from him when he saw the way your face fell. He thought you didn’t want to see him, and that you were upset to run into him. He misread your sadness for distaste and resentment. That brief moment made his whole world come tumbling down around him. You were sad because you missed him, but he didn’t know that. So his plan fumbled in a moment of panic. 

Seeing you with Eddie had been his final straw. He felt like a ticking clock counting down was looming over his head. He was running out of time, he was losing you. He couldn’t let that happen. Was he going about it the right way? Probably not, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care in the least as he stormed over. Everything he’d been feeling was heightened. He was panicked and desperate and angry and so fucking jealous. This should’ve been him with you, driving you home in his car, and he had fucked that up. 

Eddie remembers how nervous he was when he picked you up for the dance that Friday night. He’d done his best to tame his hair, and Wayne let him borrow his suit. Wayne had stayed to help with his tie and to give him a talking to about how to be a gentleman when Eddie went to pick you up. 

“Actually go up to the goddamn door and knock. Say good evening to her parents,” Wayne instructed. “Make sure you hold her hand to help her down the stairs, open her car door, hold the door for her…” 

“Wayne I know, I know,” Eddie fused, worried he was going to be late. “It’s not a date anyways,” Eddie insists, although he wished it was. Wayne scoffs. 

“Whatever you say,” he said, rolling his eyes at Eddie. 

“Lemme get a picture,” Wayne had insisted, stopping Eddie from running out the door. Grumbling the whole time, Eddie stood in their little kitchen while Wayne fumbled with his old camera. “You never look halfway decent, gotta capture it for the book.” 

The photo is still hanging up on Wayne’s fridge to this day. Eddie has not worn a suit since. 

Arriving at your house was so daunting to Eddie. He’d never really met your parents before. Just in passing when he’d pick you up or drop you off for school. He’d been to your house before, you’d hosted a few times for Hellfire- but it was never anything like this. This was special. 

He went up to the door like Wayne instructed and he shook your dad’s hand. He was worried that they’d judge him- they would hate his hair or something. It’s the first time he’s relieved that his tattoos aren’t out on display. They were both kind to him, but he could tell they were not sure how to react to him. Self-conscious, he worried they were disappointed because he wasn’t Steve. Eddie wasn’t who they pictured for you. They envisioned you with Steve. That was they future they had planned. 

Eddie thought you looked absolutely unreal that night. He always thought that those scenes where the girl makes her grand entrance and floats down the stairs were corny. Until it happened to him and it felt like time stopped. Your descent down the stairs after your mom called you down had Eddie in a trance. You were angelic in your dress, the one Eddie will pretend you bought for him- not for Steve. Eddie must have been staring with his mouth agape, because your father needed to clear his throat for Eddie to realize you’d been expectantly waiting for him to say something. Literally anything. 

“You look beautiful,” Eddie marveled, and you giggled a shy thank you. A few hundred photos later and you both were finally on your way. 

 You were right, the Snow Ball was not Eddie’s scene at all. He didn’t like the music, or the people, but he was just so happy to be spending time with you that he couldn't care about literally anything else. You seemed happy too. Eddie thought you were glowing. He even danced to every song you wanted and took the cheesy photo booth pictures. You tore the photo strip in half so you could each have some. You use yours as a bookmark to this day and Eddie’s is still clipped to the visor in the van. 

You’d hardly even noticed Steve the whole night. Eddie kept you on your feet and kept you laughing so hard your stomach hurt. 

The bang on the side of the van made you jump. You both were startled. You watched as Eddie’s eyes widened as the panic set in for both of you. Neither of you had ever seen Steve like this, it wasn’t his nature. You both didn’t know what to do. 

“Just wait here,” Eddie said comfortingly, before jumping out of the van. “I’ll talk to him.” 

Steve stood outside waiting impatiently, his hands on his hips as his chest rapidly rose and fell. His hair was messy, as you watched from the side mirror, you could tell he’d been tugging at it- a nervous habit of his you knew quite well. 

“What the fuck is this?” He accuses. Eddie offers his hands up in surrender jokingly. 

“Come on Steve…” 

“You told me she wanted space! Then you swoop in and pull this shit?” 

“She did want space- not to be fucking ignored for weeks!” Eddie points out. “You had every opportunity and you just left her alone, so how long did you expect me to just stand around while you play these fucking mind games with her? I was the bigger person, Steve! I was willing to literally take myself out of the fucking equation if you both wanted each other- and you didn’t do shit!” 

Steve looks towards the van and you make eye contact in the side mirror. He looks devastated under the outward projection of anger. It’s like you’re a million miles away. He can’t be too late. He just couldn’t. How is he supposed to just walk away after everything? Is this just it? He pleads that you’ll do something- say something- anything! Just tell him you still care. 

You avert your gaze. Steve shallows harshly. 

Eddie crosses his arms, and steps in front of Steve’s view of you. “Come on man,” Steve pleads, voice cracking. “Let me just talk to her.” 

Eddie looks to you, and you shake your head “no.” 

“How about you call her tomorrow when you cool off? You’re scaring her,” Eddie proposes. 

“You don’t speak for her,” Steve argues. “Baby, please,” he pleads looking over Eddie’s shoulder. 

Baby? Eddie fumes- he can not be serious. 

You roll down the window a crack. “I’ll call you tomorrow, Steve. I don’t want to talk to you right now,” you shout from the van. Before he can respond, you crank the window back up. 

“Fine,” Steve glares at Eddie. It’s not over, but he’ll concede for now- if it’s what you want. He slams his car door shut before speeding away, the car screaming as he pulled away as quickly as he could. 

He knew his parents would be gone, so he opted to go to their house to crash tonight. He couldn’t bear facing Eddie back at their place after this. 

You don’t even realize that you’d be crying until you feel Eddie’s arms pull you in for a hug. He rubs your back comforting you as you are shocked at what just happened. 

“I’m so sorry, sweetheart,” he mumbles into your hair before placing a kiss on the top of your head. “Let me bring you home, yeah?” 

The ride back to your apartment is silent, neither one of you knowing what to say. Eddie doesn’t want to push, and you’re too exhausted to get into it. You rest your forehead on the cold glass of the window to help your head. Eddie wants to reach out and hold your hand as he drives, but he keeps his distance. 

Eddie always walks you all the way to your front door, even after you’ve told him he doesn’t have to so many times. Wayne would kill me, he would joke. He held the door open for you so you could hop out. He held your arm, helping you navigate the icy walk. And he walked you upstairs to your apartment. 

There’s a piece of paper taped to the front of the door. 

I decided to spend the night at Vicky’s. Do with that information what you will. - Robin 

“I don’t want to be alone,” you admit, a little panicked knowing you’d be walking into an empty apartment. Eddie sighs, biting his lip nervously. Steve is going to never want to see him again, he’s sure of it. 

“I can stay if that would make you feel better?” He offers. You nod. 

“Please.” 

You pull the note down and toss it in the bin on your way inside. Eddie follows after you, kicking off his boots in the entryway. You both hang up your coats. You move over to the thermostat and turn it up. Eddie lingers in the living room, not quite sure what to do with himself. You both say nothing for a few moments. 

“Eddie, I’m so sorry about all of this,” you say finally. “Just everything- everything is falling apart it feels like.”

“None of this is your fault- it’s really not anyone’s fault…well, except mine,” he says, like a confessional and he takes a step closer. 

“Yeah,” you reply softly, matching his step. 

The air in the room was thick with tension between the two of you. In the silence and still, there was a pull dragging you into each other. 

“The whole thing is quite unfortunate really,” he contemplates, a knowing smile forming on his face. One step. 

“Most unfortunate,” you whisper. One step. He reaches out and intertwines with fingers with his. 

“Awful,” he whispers, tracing circles on your hands with his thumb gently. It sears through you completely. 

He tilts his head and his lips ghost over yours. Your body feels like it’s on fire being so close to him. The first kiss is so delicate, and the familiar feeling ignites in you. It’s perfect, being held by him by this. 

His lips are softer than you expect when they slot against yours. You let yourself forget about everything else in that moment- everything just melts away at his touch. Your brain melts at the sensation and warmth spreads throughout your whole body. You part your lips, inviting him to deepen the kiss and he does gladly. 

Waiting for a kiss like this was worth it, Eddie thinks. All the nights he spent thinking about it and all the times he held back from touching you… all of it felt like nothing as you fill up all his senses. It’s almost too much. 

“Sweetheart… please,” he begs, mumbling against your lips. His hands rest on the expanse of your back and the sensation sends a shiver up your spine. You gently tug by his belt loops closer to you, so your body is flush against his. You moan softly against his lips. 

Without disentangling himself from you, he guides you as you walk backwards towards the door of your bedroom. His hands make everywhere on your skin burn in their wake as he brings them down your back, to your hip, then settle firmly on your ass. It makes you whimper. 

The back of you knees touch the edge of your bed, and you let yourself fall backwards- pulling Eddie to climb on top of you. His hair tickles as it curtains your faces, and he leans in to press hot kisses to your jaw and down your neck, a hickey forming right where he ends just above your collarbone. 

When he pulls back briefly, you take the opportunity to pull your sweater over your head and toss it to the floor. Eddie’s movements stutter, his eyes hungrily taking in all of the newly exposed skin. You were a vision. “Shit,” he breathes, “look at you.” 

He wastes no time pulling his shirt over his head, tossing it somewhere behind him. Warmth rushes to your core at the sight of his tattoos, the subtle muscle under his pale skin, the chain around his neck, the happy trail that leads down to wear his jeans are hanging low on his hips and showing off a prominent bulge… you’re fucked. He sits up on his knees over your thighs and your body aches at the separation. 

You watch as he takes his hair and gathers it together in his hands. Making a ponytail should not be this sexy, but it’s Eddie. He winks at you as he does when he notices the way you’re staring with your mouth open, heaving breathing. 

“Take these off, sweetheart,” Eddie hums, nodding down to your jeans as he pulls the elastic from his wrist around to secure it in his hair. You’re face is warm as you nod, wiggling out of them and kicking them away. You’re left in just your bra and panties and spread out before him. 

“These are so pretty,” he muses, teasingly, running his ringed fingers over the skin just above the edge of your panties. He kneels down on the floor at the foot of the bad, hooking your legs over his shoulders in one fluid motion. “So pretty,” he mumbles, pressing delicate, teasing kisses to your inner thighs as his hands rub up and down the length of your legs. 

His eyes are directly in line with the wet spot that has formed on your panties. It aches, and you’re desperate for him to do something about it. Without him even touching you yet, you’re squirming in the anticipation that he will do something to soothe the sensation that has been building up in  your core. 

He presses a kiss to your heat over your panties, his nose pressing against your clit and the feeling makes you gasp, relieved for just the littlest amount of contact. Satisfied with your response to him, he hooks his thumb through your panties, and drags them aside- the metal of his rings feel cool against the hotness of your skin and it makes you flutter. 

He grins devilishly, “All of this for me, pretty girl?” 

One hand holds your panties, the other rests on your hip to hold you steady when Eddie wastes no time, devouring you. His nose against your clit, his tongue lapping at your arousal- it was too much. He was like a man starved. How dare you deny him this for so long. He was desperate to taste you, and he groans- he knew you’d be so fucking sweet. He just knew it. 

He pulls back to rub his thumb over your clit, making circles that feel so good you could cry. You’re so needy, writhing in his arms as you feel a familiar knot form in your stomach. With his thumb firmly in place, he returns to latch his tongue back to you. 

“Eddie,” you whine, your hands tangles in your sheets to stabilize yourself. Your head is spinning, and you know you’re so fucking close. “Please,” you cry desperately at the sensation, chasing your climax. 

Eddie continues his pace, the exact way you need him to and he continues to work you through your first orgasm. He kisses your thighs when you finish and he smiles at you- his face glistening with your slick. Cheeky bastard. He kisses your legs, your stomach and all the way back up to your lips, tasting yourself on him. He tugs off your panties and tosses them on the floor. Something about making you cum, a switch flipped in Eddie. 

He’s kissing you like he’s depending on it to survive, he’s feeling confident and desperate to do that again. He practically growls against your skin, face buried in your neck. He works off his jeans and boxers. Your mouth waters. He’s gorgeous fucking everywhere. 

“Your turn,” you mumble, unhooking your bra, eyes wandering to Eddie’s hard cock. He shakes his head, kissing you again. Fuck if he doesn’t want that, but he can’t trust himself to not completely fall apart. 

“Next time, sweetheart,” he promises, and you pout. “Need to fuck you,” he mutters against your lips, his blood breath heavy against yours. You moan at his words. 

“Please, Eds,” you drawl, “need you inside me.” 

He teases your entrance, the top of his cock so painfully close to pushing inside you. “I’m going to fuck you so good you’ll forget all about Steve, sweetheart.” 

“Oh, fuck, Eddie please,” you whine, you hips trying to create some friction, already desperate and needy for another release. Oh, you liked that, Eddie muses. He can deliver. 

“He doesn’t deserve this pretty pussy does he?” Eddie muses, pushing in just the tip of his cock, watching as you fall apart, desperate for more of him. “This perfect… fuck, tight pussy,” he moans, pushing himself fully into you. 

“Can’t take care of you as good as I can,” he promises, thrusting into you at just the right, hitting that spot that makes your brain go stupid. You feel so full of him, you can’t imagine anyone feeling better than Eddie by the way he’s fucking into you. 

“He’s never gonna fuck you as good as this,” Eddie promises. You can believe it. He leans down and kisses your neck, his hand massaging your breast, tugging gently at your hard nipple before giving the same care and attention to the other one as well. He whispers more filthy things against your neck, and you moan- your body responding to his so well. 

“Fit around me so good, sweetheart,” he muses, hot kisses trailing over the stance of your neck, “you take my cock so well.” 

“Such a good girl… making my cock all messy,” he praises, and then he presses his lips to yours in a desperately messy kiss. “Fuck, sweetheart…” 

Tears threaten the corners of your eyes, it all is too good, too overwhelming. You’re so over sensitive from your first orgasm, you are reaching your peak again, all too quickly for your liking. You can’t help it- he feels too good and he’s so fucking attentive and fuck- you feel so close. 

“Cum on my cock princess,” Eddie encourages, feeling you tighten around his cock. “you’re gonna look so good for me, let me see you cum for me, yeah?” 

He holds your cheeks in his hand, your lips squished together as you look up at him, wide eyed. “You can do it, be a good girl and cum all over my cock,” he encourages. It’s just enough to make you fall apart all over again. Messy things spilling from your mouth as your body pulses and he continues his pace, working you through it- kissing your forehead. 

Eddie pulls out, making a mess on your stomach as he cums. Exhausted, he collapses on the bed next to you. He kisses you softly, praising you for being so good for him. It makes you feel like putty. He disappears for a second, disappearing behind the door. He comes back with water for you and a warm cloth. He kisses you, making you take the water from him, and then he cleans you up gently, kissing your body all over after the job is done. 

You don’t know what you’re going to say to Steve. All you care about now, is burrowing yourself into Eddie’s chest. For the first time in weeks, you and Eddie both actually sleep soundly, limbs tangled together- your bodies intertwined. 

Taglist: @sunshinepeachx @downbear @fanlifeaamt @exploding-bonbon @losingmygrasponreality @skiddypiddy @andvys @djodirt @moonlightsolo @kyga01 @sheisjoeschateau @melaninjhs @v3lv3tf0x @purpleeyeswithgoldensparkles @sunshine-mrk @danymunsonharrington

[luvismenu]

stream #02 — boxing ✒️

pause or play ,, JJK — series m.list

warnings: just streaming yk, boxer jk, some tension, some confusion, jk being a baby loll

wc: 3.17k

you reached jungkook’s new gym, taking in the expensive space and sleek, high-end equipment. it’s bigger, more polished, and clearly more expensive than his last one. but it doesn’t surprise you. jungkook has a taste for the finer things. he’s humble when he needs to be, sure, but he wouldn’t deny it if someone called him rich.

you’ve known him for what feels like a lifetime. you were seven when his family moved into the house next door, and he was just three. your families clicked immediately, and soon enough, the two of you were practically inseparable. almost like family, people would say.

jungkook was always the adventurous one, the chaotic to your calm. you were there for him as he grew up, through every scraped knee and every wild idea. somehow, the two of you became the closest of friends. but no matter how close you were, jungkook never wanted to be seen as your little brother.

even when people around you assumed it—his parents included—he refused to let the title stick.

you still remember the first time it really hit you. you were 14, and he was 10. you’d casually called him your little brother, and he was furious. “don’t call me that!” he’d snapped, arms crossed and a pout on his face. you didn’t think much of it at the time, figuring he’d grow out of it. but he didn’t.

even now, he hates it. he doesn’t want you to see him as a younger sibling, and honestly, you don’t mind. you’ve always treated him like your equal; your best friend. that’s all that ever mattered to you.

there are times when he makes it hard not to think of him as the annoying little brother. but, nonetheless, you love him.

and eventually, the two of you grew up and started carving out your own paths. you found your place in tech, and he found his in streaming. but through it all, you never stopped believing in him. you always knew he had something special, a spark that could light up any room.

and now, here he is, one of the most successful streamers out there. watching him grow into who he is today fills you with pride. a quiet, steady pride that you don’t think will ever fade.

you’re proud of him. you always have been, and you always will be.

“jji! right here!” jungkook’s voice cuts through your thoughts. you spot him, waving at you. he’s in sweatpants and a loose t-shirt, his hands wrapped with bandage tape, his hair messily falling into his eyes.

you walk over, shaking your head at the sight of him.

“did you start the stream yet?” you ask, instinctively reaching out to fix his hair. he bends slightly, letting you smooth it down.

“no, not yet,” he says, gesturing towards the cameras and equipment nearby. “i was waiting for you.”

“waiting for me?” you raise a brow, smoothing the last strand and pulling your hand back.

“of course,” he says with a sly grin. “need to prove to you that i’m a man, remember?” his eyes lock onto yours, and you pause for a moment, caught off guard.

“you’re still on that?” you tilt your head, frowning slightly but with a soft smile. “i thought you weren’t serious.”

“oh, i’m dead serious, jji,” he says, flexing his fingers as he adjusts the tape on his hands. “today, i’m gonna show you what i really am.” his confidence is almost infectious, but you just shake your head, amused.

he's so cute.

“right, sure,” you mumble, turning toward the equipment to set up the camera.

this isn’t new to you. every time jungkook streams outside his usual setup, you’re somehow involved. you don’t mind, though. in fact, you’ve grown to enjoy it. jungkook has this way of making everything feel natural and comfortable, even when you’re in front of a camera.

“oh, by the way,” jungkook pipes up, motioning towards a man walking in. “this is sangwon hyung, my trainer.”

the man gives a polite bow as he approaches, and you return it with a small one of your own. “nice to meet you,” you say, smiling and he gives you a quick nod before moving toward a desk stacked with boxing gear.

jungkook steps behind you, leaning down to whisper in your ear. “isn’t he cool?”

you scoff, a quiet laugh escaping you. “sure, he seems cool.”

“he’s also funny,” jungkook adds, nodding towards sangwon, who’s busy sorting equipment.

you glance back at him with a teasing grin. “are you in love with your personal trainer?”

jungkook rolls his eyes, stepping back with an exaggerated sigh. “it's called admiration,” he shakes his head as if he's teaching you something very obvious, but there’s a small smile tugging at his lips as he walks to his trainer.

jungkook adjusts the camera and starts his stream, his usual confident grin lighting up his face.

“what’s good, chat?” he greets, his voice full of energy and the chat goes wilddd

@/kookiebaby: WE MISSED YOU !!!!

@/jkenthusiast: OH MY GOD IVE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS STREAM FOR AGES

@/darlingxo: YOU LOOK SO HOT

@/jaykaysslut: SHOW US THOSE ABS DADDY 🥵

“yes, yes, i know you guys have been waiting for the boxing stream ever since i dropped those pics of me with the gloves. and well, here we are!”

he gestures toward his trainer. “this is sangwon hyung, my trainer. say hi, hyung.” sangwon waves shyly, smiling before he starts prepping the equipment.

jungkook’s eyes flicker to his monitor, catching a comment in the chat.

“oh, you guys want text-to-speech on?” he asks, glancing at you for confirmation.

you’re already a step ahead, nodding as you enable the setting with ease. “done,” you say, giving him a quick look.

“thanks, jji,” he replies with a grin before turning back to his chat.

almost immediately, the donations start pouring in, the robotic voice reading out the messages.

text-to-speech:

“hey jungkook, i missed you!”

“how was your break?”

“finally, boxing stream time!”

jungkook chuckles as he responds while wrapping his hands. “missed you too! break was good, but i’m ready to be back now. thanks for waiting.”

his trainer joins him, checking the gloves and pads as more messages roll in.

then a donation catches your attention: “is ___ with you?”

you’re not surprised. his chat is used to you showing up during his streams. you smile softly, glancing at jungkook, waiting for his response.

“yes, ___ is here too,” jungkook says casually, then turns to you with that boyish grin. “come on, jji, say hi to chat.”

with a small sigh but a smile nonetheless, you walk in front of the camera, giving a little wave. “hey, chat. been a while,” you say warmly, and the chat immediately explodes with excitement.

text-to-speech:

“__, we missed you!”

“looking good as always”

“i missed my favorite couple”

“mommy and daddy are back”

you can’t help but laugh quietly. it’s not the first time chat has assumed you and jungkook are a thing, and at this point, it doesn’t even faze you. jungkook, on the other hand, just smirks as he slips on his gloves.

jungkook starts with some warmup exercises, stretching his arms and rolling his shoulders before shifting into jumping jacks. his movements are fluid, showcasing the effort he’s been putting into training.

after a few minutes, when everything is settled.

jungkook steps into the training zone, fists wrapped tightly, as his trainer holds up two padded gloves for him to strike. he begins his routine, throwing punches with precision and focus.

it’s impressive to watch, when jungkook gets into something, he doesn’t just dabble. he trains so hard that whatever he does ends up looking flawless.

the chat explodes with excitement, emotes filling the screen as viewers cheer him on. you glance between jungkook and the chat, managing donations and comments as they flood in. as his head moderator, it’s part of the job, but you don’t see it that way. for you, this is just another way to be there for him— supporting him like you always have, as his best friend.

after a few rounds, jungkook takes a break, sitting down in front of the camera. his breath is heavy, his hair a tousled mess, and sweat clings to his skin.

you lean closer, reaching out instinctively. with one hand, you smooth his hair back into place; with the other, you use the edge of your sweater sleeve to gently wipe the sweat from his forehead. he closes his eyes, leaning into your touch, his breathing gradually evening out.

the text-to-speech voice cuts through the moment:

“that was so intense! please take care of yourself.”

jungkook’s lips curl into a smile as he opens his eyes, catching your wrist in his hand. you blink, slightly startled, as he intertwines his fingers with yours. the chat goes crazy, even though all they can see is your hand.

“thank you,” he says, turning his attention back to the camera. “i am glad i have ___ to take care of me.”

he glances up at you, the corners of his mouth lifting into a teasing smirk as he adds a wink.

you roll your eyes, an amused look on your face. mouthing, “shut up,” you try to pull your hand away, but he just chuckles softly.

he lets go after a moment, standing up and stretching as he gets ready for the next round, leaving you to shake your head at his antics, a small smile tugging at your lips.

after what feels like two hours of intense training, breaks, and chatting with his viewers, jungkook is visibly exhausted. his movements are slower now, his hair sticking to his damp forehead, and his breathing is heavier than before. you can tell he’s pushed himself to his limit for this stream.

the chat, however, is still buzzing with excitement, donations pouring in faster than ever. jungkook glances at the screen, his tired eyes attempting to scan the messages, but it’s clear he doesn’t have the energy to keep up.

“jji,” he mutters softly, leaning back against the chair he's on, his voice hoarse. “can you handle it?”

you nod, stepping in without hesitation. pulling up a chair beside him, you start reading the... more wholesome donations and messages out loud.

“‘jungkook, you’re amazing! take care of yourself, please!’” you read with a small laugh, glancing at him.

he gives a tired smile, wiping the sweat from his face with a towel. “thank you,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper.

you continue, “‘jungkook, that was so cool! but seriously, drink more water’” you say and immediately hold up his water bottle to him.

he chuckles weakly, taking the bottle and sipping from it.

the chat seems to notice you’ve taken over, with messages like, “thank you, ___, for taking care of our kookie!” and “we stan mommy ___,!”

“okay, guys, i think it’s time to end the stream,” you say, looking directly at the camera with a small smile as jungkook sits slouched on the chair beside you, clearly drained but still listening.

the chat explodes with protests.

“nooo, don’t go!”

“one more round daddy please”

“aw, take care !”

“love you jungkookie! thank you”

“thank you, ___ !”

“our favorite couple frfr.”

“waiting for the next stream already”

you smile, muting the text-to-speech for a moment. “alright, send your final messages and love to jungkook before we sign off.”

jungkook leans forward, waving weakly at the camera. “thanks for watching, guys. you’re amazing, as always.”

you add, “take care, everyone. we’ll see you soon!”

with that, you end the stream, the room falling into a quiet hum. you turn to jungkook, who’s still sitting on the chair, looking utterly spent.

“ready to go home?” you ask, crossing your arms.

“carry me?” he jokes, flashing a tired smile.

you always carried him when he was a kid, whether it was because he’d fallen asleep during movie nights or he’d hurt himself. back then he was smaller than you.

but now… you glance at him, leaning back into the chair again, his broad shoulders and muscular frame taking up way more space than they used to. he looks.. big.

still, if he wasn’t so big and heavy now, you’d probably still carry him, just like old times. but even thinking about trying to lift him now makes your back ache.

you laugh, shaking your head. “let’s go.”

his house, as always, has that comforting vibe—nothing too flashy but enough to show his style. it’s a place that’s just... him.

you and jungkook head straight into the kitchen. despite how exhausted he seemed earlier, he’s already bouncing back. aside from the faint sheen of sweat on his skin, he looks completely normal, his usual energetic self.

you grab a bottle of juice from the refrigerator and walk over to the kitchen counter. before you can even start pouring, he’s right behind you, reaching for the bottle.

“i can do it,” he says, his hand brushing yours as he tries to take it.

you pull the bottle away with a small smile. “i know you can,” you reply, already unscrewing the cap and pouring the juice into two glasses.

he scoffs softly, shaking his head as he leans against the counter, watching you. there’s a certain fondness in his eyes that you don’t notice, too focused on pouring.

you turn around and hand him one of the glasses, keeping the other in your hand. he takes it, holding it up toward you.

“cheers,” he says

you smile and clink your glass gently against his. “good stream,” you say in unison.

you take a sip while he tilts his head back, chugging the entire drink in one go. your eyes widen slightly at the sight, but you quickly recover, shaking your head with an amused smile.

“fuck, that’s good,” he groans, setting the empty glass behind you on the counter.

you take another sip of your drink, watching him carefully as he takes a deep breath, clearly about to say something.

“so, what did you think?” he asks, his eyes focused on you. you blink, distracted by your drink for a moment before meeting his gaze.

“hm?” you tilt your head slightly, unsure of what he's referring to.

he clears his throat, straightening up and looking at you with a serious expression. “do you believe me now?”

you furrow your brows, genuinely confused. “believe you? what do you mean?”

before you can process it, he steps in front of you, raising his arms and flexing them dramatically.

that's when it hits you.

you try to hold back a laugh, putting your half finished glass on the counter as you try to control yourself. his serious face only makes it harder for you to stop.

he frowns at you, his arms dropping as you laugh softly. “hey! what are you laughing at?” he asks, not understanding what's so funny.

you cover your mouth, trying to smile less. “oh, yes,” you manage, “point proven, mr. big man jungkook.”

his face falls, clearly thinking that you don’t take him seriously. “god,” he says, rolling his eyes. “you still don’t get it, but i’ll prove it to you someday.”

your brows raise slightly. “you know you don’t have to, right?”

he stares at you for a moment before exclaiming, “i do!”

you blink in surprise as he sighs. “i really do.”

you sigh, walking closer to him, reaching out to cup his face cheek gently. “hey,” you say softly, “you might be a grown man now. but, to me, you’re still that little crazy stubborn jungkook from when we were kids. you know that, right?”

but he doesn't like that.

he looks at you, then scoffs, holding your hand and pulling it down gently. “but that’s not what i want you to see!” he whines, his tone almost childlike.

you cross your arms, trying to hold back a smile. “okay, you’re being dramatic now,” you reply. “why are you so adamant about proving something that doesn’t need to be proven?”

he steps closer to you, “because—” but then stops himself before saying anything.

you wait for him to finish, but he just stands there, silent.

“because i just have to!” he says suddenly, exasperated.

you let out a long sigh, frustrated with the whole thing.

“don’t sigh at me like i’m a kid,” he snaps immediately.

you try to argue, “i am n—”

but he cuts you off again, “you were.”

you look at him, taken aback. he meets your gaze, and you can’t help but smile. leaning a little closer to him, you tease, “are you mad?”

he’s still standing close enough that you can feel his presence, and you reach up to ruffle his hair, trying to lighten the mood. “we can get takeout, maybe—”

before you can finish your sentence, his hand grabs your wrist gently, but firmly enough to stop you. you stumble back, your back hitting the counter as he steps closer, his other hand placing itself beside you on the counter to trap you there.

you blink, unsure of what’s happening. his gaze is intense, but he doesn’t speak. you can feel some kind of weird tension building, the space between you two quickly dissapearing.

as he leans down slightly, his body completely trapping you on the counter, and you can see the way his arms flex with every movement. you gasp softly. your noses are so close, just inches apart. his breath brushes over your lips, and you can feel your heart beat a little faster.

your breath hitches, and you open your mouth to speak, but no words come out. what is he doing? why is he acting like this? did you say something to upset him?

his eyes flicker down to your lips for a brief moment, and then back up to your eyes, his gaze sharp and serious.

“jungko—”

he pulls back suddenly, his posture changing. “i need to take a shower,” he says, his voice calm but slightly awkward.

“huh?” you respond, still processing what just happened.

he clears his throat, stepping back, his body relaxing as he looks down at himself. “i stink right now, look at all this sweat,” he says casually, as if nothing happened.

you blink.

you glance down at his shirt. “oh... yeah,” you reply, your mind racing to catch up with the situation.

“takeout sounds good,” he adds, snapping you back to the present. “you take care of it, and i’ll be back soon,” he says before turning to head towards his room.

you’re left standing there, still leaning against the counter, completely stunned.

what the fuck just happened?

note: yeah jungkook's gonna be banging his head on the wall in the shower cuz bro was CRAZY FOR THAT—

💌 series taglist: @dna-black-and-blue @vrsltz @jkvamp @dieforkoo @myjungkookthighs

💌 permanent taglist: @internetrando64 @jkvias @lovieku @deluluisdasolulu @ddanasjk @onlyforyoukook @diamondjeon @nnybtitts08 @lil0u0 @butnotmontana @fr0ggieth1nk @minimoninini @whoa-jo @lola75111 @iswearimover5feetall @rispwr @genevieveeeee

@134340-kr @mar-lo-pap @fluttershypoo @kyuupii @https-mei @elinaki92 @jungkookmyoneandonlybaby @hoseokteardrop @winterbeartaehyungbestboy @jaykay-world @jmscaffeine @libra04 @beigerin @nikidream24 @svnbangtansworld @mimi1097 @kookoo-kachoo @junecat18 @iheartchanelle @rrosiitas

[jazziejax]

𝐁𝐀𝐃 𝐁𝐎𝐘𝐙

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 - Bad Boys AU! Kelvin Harrison Jr. x Black!OC & Bad Boys AU! Aaron Pierre x Black!OC

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 - A normal day for the FBI agents who bicker like a married couple is the first day of many odd ones for a rich and beautiful business woman. But let’s look into how they first met.

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 - cursing…a lot, mentions of people’s races, descriptions of appearances, mentions of escorting, food wasting, I hope that’s all but let me know if I missed anything.

𝐉𝐚𝐳𝐳𝐢𝐞’𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬 - I have a lot planned for this Bad Boys AU, and I’m gonna love every second of it. That’s is if I get to wiring it all….we’ll see. I don’t want to poor anything but this could be a love triangle or… something polyamorous. UNEDITED AS OF RIGHT NOW!!!, I really wanted to get this out because I was so exited about what you guys thought, it’s 2:13 am. Also, this could be read as an ‘x reader’ I try to tray away from detailed descriptions. I just like to use names because it’s easier for me, I know you are all sick and tried of the self inserts and OC’s. It’s just easier for me to add a name :(

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 - 4,282+

𝐌𝐢𝐚𝐦𝐢 𝐅𝐥𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐚, 𝟏𝟗𝟗𝟓

“Does this spaceship have any damn air in it?” The man from the passenger seat with his shades on asked, his voice muffled as he chewed on his burger. The sun was beating down on them through the small car and the heat was causing him to become irritable.

The taller and lighter man glanced over at him, his hand on the steering wheel as he leaned back in his expensive leather seats. “Quit worrying about my air and start worrying about that food in my car.” He said, glancing back at the road before looking back over at the hungry man over his own shades. “What is this having a picnic shit in my car?” He asked.

Kelvin sighed, pushing his shades up to rest on his head. “Please man, not right now, not today.” He said, annoyance clear on his tongue as he looked over at his partner. “I’m not getting any at home, don’t deny me this.” He spat before moving to take another bite of his burger. The light-skinned man couldn’t help the small amused grin that made its way into his face. “I mean, yeah, how could you when you still live with your mother.” He chortled. Kelvin snapped his head over to him, his eyes sharp. “I do not live with my mother!”

“Yes, you do. You live with your whole damn family!”

“I do not! I bought my family a big ass house and this economy is shit, okay?” Kelvin stated through slightly clenched teeth. “I can’t keep taking women back to my crappy ass apartment that I got on my crappy ass cop salary!” He continued as Aaron sped through the sunny city in the Florida heat. Unbeknownst to both of them, a car was in their trail.

Aaron was about to respond again before he got distracted by the huge bite Kelvin took from the burger and the fries he stuffed from his lap. He scrubbed his lip over at him. “Could you watch it with all that shit, alright?” Kelvin rolled his eyes and threw his head back with a grin as she chewed his food. After swallowing, he gave the man next to him a dead stare.

“Where are your cup holders?” He asked, disregarding what the man said as he looked around the small car. Aaron trained his eyes back on the road, clenching his hands on the steering wheel. “I don’t have one.”

“The hell do you mean you don’t have one?” He asked, his face scrunched in pure befuddlement at what his friend was saying. “$80,000 for this car and you ain’t got no damn cup holders?”

“It’s $105,000 and this just happens to be one of the fastest production of cars on the planet,” Aaron told him confidently, speeding the old model sports car up on the road out of pure cockiness. “0-16 in four seconds, sweetie. It’s a limited edition.” He smirked.

“Limited?” Kelvin said. “You got damn right it’s limited. No cup holder, no back seat. This is a shiny duck with two chairs in it. And I guess that makes us the balls just dragging the fuck along, huh?” He hissed before he reached into his lap for some fries, but the fast car and his clumsy nature caused the fries to fall, falling out of the small carton box they were in. “Oh, damn.” He mumbled, shooting a glance at his driving friend. Aaron’s head quickly snapped over to him, looking between the spilled fries and his hungry partner. “Sorry.” Kelvin winced.

Aaron then quickly wrapped the sports car into the nearest sidewalk, parking the vehicle. He took his shades off, still looking between the food on his floor and the crevices in between with a sharp eye, and then back up at the quickly agitated man. “Get it up.” He said firmly. Kelvin scoffed, looking the man up and down as he held his half-eaten burger.

“Now I know you see I can’t get down there. There’s no place for me to sit anything with this shitty car of yours.” He spat. The pair were so caught up in their bickering that they still didn’t catch the car that’s been trailing them, park right when they did. “And you got a damn engineering floor up in here, my shit ain’t going down up in there.” He said, holding up his hand to show that it wouldn’t fit.

“You know what, I’m not your damn mama.” Aaron spat. “I shouldn’t be cleaning up after your filthy ass.” Kelvin immediately held his finger up to his face. “Keep my mother out of your mouth, A-A-Ron, I told you that.”

“Quit calling me that!”

“And watch my hand, okay?” Kelvin ignored him as he continued, moving to try and stuff his hand in between the seats. “It can barely get down there. And when it does, it gets stuck. And what does that make, you get this shit!” He chided, hosing up the same hand to show his now crooked and coned fingers, a small grinning his face. Aaron gave him a black stare, both of the men unbeknownst to the women coming down the sidewalk and the woman from behind them sent as a distraction.

“You gone get them fries,” Aaron told him.

And while they were absorbed within their world of car chat and being tailed, two women were walking down the street having a conversation of their own.

“Thanks again, Fab.” One of the women said, glancing next to her to see her friend licking away at the frozen cream treat in the sugar cone. “For the ice cream, I mean.” She mumbled, glancing back down her the pink ice cream she held in her fist. The other woman glanced over as she swept her fresh blow out from her face. “I told you it was no problem, Addy.” She shrugged before giving her double chocolate ice cream another lick, the Miami sun shining down on her bronze skin.

It was silent then, the pair listening to the sound of their shoes hitting the pavement, Addy’s kitten heels making small taps while Fabiola’s stilettos punted against the pavement in her tried strut. They enjoyed their treats under the blazing sun, ears tuned into the chirping grids, the sound of playing children, and the city life moving past them. The air was thick with tension, both of their thoughts filled with burning assumptions, unanswered questions, and overflowing uncertainty.

This was still new for them. All of it. Although Addison and Fabiola had been friends for a while, their new living situation was still a task to get around, and there were certain lines neither of them ever crossed. Knowing each other since junior year of college, most would say they were best friends with opposite personalities. Addy was an adrenaline junkie to her core. She spent most of her college time drinking and throwing ragers. She was known for her sweet personality and down with all the frats and sororities. And no matter how hard she partied, she never failed an exam. Essays might not have been her strongest suit but she was damn good with numbers.

Fabiola on the other hand was sort of the opposite. She had her fair share of nice times on campus but she wasn’t really a ‘people person’. Fabiola grew up as the youngest girl of three boys with a beautiful mother and a strict and traditional father. She was a bossy perfectionist with a small temper and a no-bullshit attitude. All that to say, she was spoiled rotten, and making friends didn’t come easy. She hadn’t had a consistent friend in her life up until college. Now, she wasn’t a complete loner, she had friends at school growing up, but she never went out of her way to hang out with any of them. She was focused on one thing and that was her career. After seeing her mom be a housewife for so long, she knew it was a life that she never wanted to live. So he had her group and stuck to them.

That was until she was almost failing trigonometry and everyone she knew was recommending the campus's famous engineering major, Addison Montez. They would meet in the library every Friday afternoon to study, and eventually Fab began to help Addy with her papers for history. They were studying friends until the oh-so-comfortable and relaxed Addison recommended they go out to a party instead of being trapped within the thick smell of old paper and stale wood. And after that homecoming rager that took place at the HBCU two miles out, let’s just say they were almost inseparable after that.

It’s been years since then though. Life got real for them quickly and it was hard to keep in touch. Fabiola went on to inherit most of the money of her father when he passed since two of her brothers ended up being absolute useless shits with no career and the eldest son ran the medical equipment company. All while her mother ran off to Switzerland to marry a rich white man who was also widowed. They all still kept in touch but things were a little odd now.

Addison’s life, on the other hand, went a little downhill. She was never able to her master's degree because she didn’t have the money to pay for college. Things got so stressful for her point that she had to drop out, which her folks were not happy about. She could only live in her small hometown in the middle of bun-fuck nowhere working at GoodWill for two years before she packed her things into her shit box of a car and ran. That’s how she ended up in Miami, in her little apartment now making more than she was at Goodwill, although life still wasn’t that great considering what she now did for money. And that didn’t last long because the building she lived in was sold and she now needed a place to crash until she collected more cash.

And after bumping into Fabiola at the lingerie store, things went from there. They were friends again after so long. Casual and lighthearted conversations filled their hearts pure.

But their forced proximity begged for more clarity.

Fabiola moved her brown leather bag to her other hand, slipping it into the cuff of her elbow as she continued to eat her ice cream, biting into the cone and then licking some of the cream that fell away from her deep red manicured nails. She then looked down at her outfit, making sure the dripping treat didn’t hit her nice sweater or her crisp white shirt under it. “Just say what you’re thinking Addison.” She said, not even looking over at her friend before going back to her ice cream once she saw her outfit was clear.

Addison glanced over at her, licking her ice cream at a slower pace as her mind became more closed with doubts. She had her arms crossed, her free hand against the hairs in her exposed arms, due to the black halter turtle neck she had on that matched her small black heels, all paired with simple jeans. “I just…you don’t know how much I appreciate you.” She said. Her words were met with a groan from Fabiola, the woman throwing her head back.

“Enough.” She said firmly, turning her head to her. “You’ve said thank you to me more than you’ve lived longer with me. And it’s been two weeks.”

“I know, I know,” Addy added in a dejected tone, only giving the strawberry-flavored dessert in her hand kitten licks. “It just really means a lot to me right now. You don’t even know how much.” She said, letting out a small sigh. Fabiola’s eyes flickered back at her at her mellow tone, taking in the woman’s lost stare and guarded form. She awkwardly pressed her lips together, her eyes flicking away since she found the cars passing on the street much more interesting than the emotionally charged atmosphere. She then gulped. “Just say what you really want to say.” She said, the words coming out firmer than she anticipated. She ignored it, however, her eyes still looking at anything but the woman next to her as they walked back to her car.

Addison glanced her way when she spoke, but was met with the woman tucking her shoulder-length blowout behind her ear. She gulped herself, pursing her lips as she looked away. “I…” She trailed off. “I just don’t think it’s best for me to say it in this environment. In the open.”

“I would rather you say it before we’re trapped in my car for the next twenty minutes until we make it back to my place.” Fabiola didn’t miss a beat, cutting her eyes at her from the corner. “No pressure but it might be more awkward for you.” She said, and before she could finish, she then realized why she didn’t have many friends. Feelings were never really her thing, and this sensitive subject that Addison was clearly going through wasn’t her forte at all.

Addison nodded at her words as she licked her lips, totally forgetting about the melting treat in her hands. “Yeah, you’re right.” She sighed. “Okay. I, um…. Okay…I…work for a Madam.” She added quickly after her stuttering spout, then ate the rest of her ice cream as quickly as she could. Fabiola turned her lips up at her, watching as the woman sucked the ice cream that was most just cream now, from the cone. Addison turned to her, seeing her disgusted face. “Okay, damn, no need for the look.” She spat.

Fabiola blinked. “No, that was for the way you ate the rest of that ice cream.” She added, giving her a sideways glance as she bit into her cone. “I don’t really care about that other thing.” She shrugged as she brought her gold wire shades down to cover her eyes, her hair blowing more in its free form with the wind in her strut. Addison’s brows shot out at that. “Really?”

“Yeah.” She shrugged as she sped up some, seeing her car in the distance. “A check is a check, sweetie.” She said, flashing the girl a smirk and wink before licking at her ice cream again. They were coming upon her car, causing the woman to dig into her purse to find her keys with one hand. Addison blinked, shocked at her blasé attitude, and nodded her head as she followed after the woman. “Well, it’s not really a check.” She added with a small smirk. Fabiola glanced over at her, her arm still out as she dug into her purse to fetch her keys. “Well, money is still money.” She added, mocking annoyance with a smirk still on her lips as she found her keys. Addison grinned as well, watching as the woman stepped into the street to open her car door.

They paused however at the sound of commotion at the car behind them.

Back in the car, Kelvin and Aaron were still arguing.

“How imma get the damn fries, A-A-Ron?”

“Quit calling me that! Now look, this ain’t no got damn Denny’s, ain’t no eating in my car.” Aaron said before movement out of the windshield window caught his attention. His eyes were completely disregarding the woman in white, tilting his head to look around the planned distraction at the two women coming down the pavement.

“I wouldn’t be buying no shit from Denny’s anyway!” Kelvin continued, not paying attention to what the other man was staring at. “I don’t like the way we would’ve been treated.” He said before his eyes caught sight of the woman in white walking around the car. He looked the pale gorgeous woman in the short white dress up and down before glancing back at Aaron. “You weren’t worried about no damn fries anyway.” He snarked, looking the man up and down. “You all up in that.” He said. He then realized Aaron wasn’t all up in that white woman passing by, but the two beauties walking down the street. Kelvin glanced over, and it was like everything transformed into slow motion.

They watched as a woman in a grey suit practically strutted down the street. Her straight hair was touching her collarbones and belonged in the wind, her shades covering her eyes. She walked with a sense of authority and confidence, her equally attractive friend a few steps behind her, as she licked away at the chocolate ice cream in her hands.

“Damn.” Kelvin and Aaron said at the same time in the same breathy tone, tilting their heads as they looked the duo up and down, moving to the car in front of them.

They couldn’t admire her long before they were interrupted by the sight of guns entering their periphery.

“Get out of the car.” The scrawny white guy spat at Aaron. He glanced at the man before shaking his head with a sigh while Kelvin just dripped his.

“Damn.” He and Kelvin repeated. L

Kelvin looked the big burly man next to him up and down in disgust before his eyes went back to the gun lined at his face. “Now ain’t this some bullshit.” He spat. “The fuck is this?” Their attention was no longer on the women in front of them, but their attention was now on them.

“Me and my team, we’ve had a big week, so just get the fuck out of the car.” The white guy spat at them. Kelvin was too busy squinting his eyes against the sun as he looked out of the car at the large guy who held him at gunpoint. “Damn!” He said again, looking him up and down. “What you weigh in at, 350? I bet you a big Popeye chicken-eating son of bitch, ain’t you? Churches?” He asked causing Aaron to roll his eyes as he brought his hands up in surrender. “Hey, hey. Let’s chill.” He began when the man brought the gun closer.

Kelvin turned to his partner, his arms still down as he frowned. “Why do I always gotta get the big thick mothafuckas?” He tiffed. This only gained a reaction from the men who were robbing them. “Get the hell out of the car, now!” The white guy hissed as he moved to piped the door, causing the large guy to follow. Aaron and Kelvin were quick to exit, their hands raised. “Alright, alright, alright!” Kelvin yelled as he stepped out with his cup in his hand. He looked at the man in front of him while the other guy tried to lean Aaron against the car.

Fabiola and Addison looked back at the commotion, their mouths dropping at the sight of the robbery happening in front of them. Addison was quick to drop the soggy cone and move to the car, squatting down some in case things got wild but Fabiola was stuck, the rest of her cone in her mouth, scared to move in case the men’s guns turned their way. They stood there, just watching and listening.

“You know, now this is some funny shit,” Aaron said, his tone fed up as he held his hands up, glancing between the men that surround him.

“Shut up!” The small guy yelled. But Aaron just ignored him, looking at the angry man. “Let me tell you how bad a day you’re having. Right now you’re having a couple of FBI agents.” He stated. The shirt guy with sweat sliding down his face just looked at him. “Oh yeah? Well, I’m a stand-up comedian.” He added. “And I suck! That’s why I need your car.” He shouted through clenched teeth as he took a step closer.

“We’re dealing with a couple of cops and some lunatics out here,” Fabiola stared on with bated breath, not able to rip her eyes star from the scene.

“Hey, look!” Kelvin spoke up, still not having taken his eyes off the man in front of him. “I ain’t no Wesley Snipes, I just hang out with stupid ass friends that drive stupid ass cars that’s attract a lot mothafuckin’ attention!” He yelled, emphasizing his words every time he glanced back at said ‘stupid ass friend’, who now had a gun to his head. Aaron didn’t seem to care about any of that at the moment, his jaw downing at Kelvin’s statement.

“You know what? I need to jump over this car and smack you upside your peasy ass head, that’s what I need to do.”

This caused Kelvin to turn around, the men now facing each other as they disregarded the burglars who watched them. Fabiola furrowed her bed at them while Addison raised from her crouch position, less scared as she watched the so-called cops argue with guns to their backs. “A couple of lunatics as cops too.” She said, adding to what she heard Fabiola state. They watched as the men screamed at one another, the men with guns slightly backing off out of confusion and tension.

“Yeah, cause your ass was arguing over a stupid ass, mothafuckin, French fry!”

“It’s not about the French fry!”

“It’s a fry!”

“It’s about your lack of respect for other people's property!” Aaron screamed, pointing over at him.

“Hey, hey, hey!” The scrawny man behind Aaron yelled.

“That shit is stupid!” Kelvin shouted back at Aaron. “Shut the fuck up!” The large dark-skinned man spoke up, pointing his gun at him. Kelvin’s head snapped back to him, face grimaced in pure anger. “Hold on! You hold the FUCK ON!” He yelled at him before turning back to argue. “Now you want some bad enough, come get some!” He added before quickly turning around and throwing his chocolate milkshake onto the large man, not missing a beat to kick him in the nuts and then rip the gun off his hips. All while Aaron simultaneously elbowed the man behind him in the face before then turning to sucker punch him, causing the perps to both hit the ground.

“You like that shit?!” Kelvin continued to yell, pointing his gun down at him. He moved around, kicking the gun far from the burglars' hands as he held his own to the man’s head. “Wesley Snipes, Passenger 57! Now give me a mothafuckin’ handy wipe!” He spat with a smirk, his glare on the large man.

Aaron let out a sigh as he pulled out his gun, pointing it down at the man who seemed to be concussed on the ground.

“Now let’s hear one of those jokes, bitch.” He spat. He heard w let out a large laugh from the other side of the car, causing him to glance over. He had a smirk of his own on his lips, green eyes relaxing in the sun. Their ultra-cool moment was interrupted by the sound of a car unlocking, causing both cops to look over at the two women from earlier staring at them.

Addison was quick to open her door, her eyes darting between the scene in front of her one last time. “Sick shit.” She said with a grin before entering the car. Fabiola still stood there, shocked as she looked between the two cops. It seemed as though the halt in the screaming caused her to snap out of her thoughts, leading her to blink. Her eyes moved over to the shorter man, who was dressed in a simple white tee and black dress pants, all high in his built figure. The hold of his chain, belt buckle, and other jewelry stood out against his brown skin. His shirt waves were smooth on his head and his cute face was sort of clean-shaven, her eyes attaching themselves to his stunning and plump lips.

“What she said.” She spoke up, nodding her head to the woman in the car. “That was…cool.” She nodded. Her sultry voice caused both men to tense up but quickly relaxed, the smooth sound unexpected to both of them. Her shades were also on, covering her eyes from telling them what she truly thought, and why she was still there speaking to them. Kelvin nodded his head at her, not hiding the way he looked her up and down. “Thanks.” He said, a small smirk making his way into his lips.

She nodded at him before her eyes then made their way to the man on the other side of the car. His figure was taller and larger, and although his suit was baggier, she could tell the muscles under it were strong and sculpted. His outfit was similar to Kevin’s, although his was grey and he had his blazer on. What caught her attention the most was his eyes, the bright and striking color of them held her captivated from the rest of his face. The icy blue irises looked back at her as her eyes gave his face a quick once over, admiring his large ears and nice goatee, and a sexy smolder on his lips.

“Nice car.” She added, nodding at the fancy Porsche that they surrounded. Aaron blinked, his eyes not leaving her face. He was caught in the way the hair blew the wind, framing her face perfectly. Though he only knew her for mere seconds, he hoped desperately that some unknown force would come in a swoop the glasses from her face to see her clearly. “Thank you. Porsche.” He said, snapping out of his quick start of thinking. His eyes then moved to the one she stood by, nodding his ear down to it. “What that?” He asked.

The pair could both see one of her brow arch at his question, a smirk making its way into her lips. “A Ferrari.” She said, placing her hand on her hip as she looked between the two of them. Aaron’s eyes widened as he stood straighter, looking between the car and the woman. “F512M. Nice right? I know.” He said, not even waiting for a response to her question that she answered herself before opening the door. She didn’t even give them one last glance before hopping into the nice grey car and pulling off, making sure to rev her nice engine.

Kelvin and Aaron stood there, guns still pinged at her knocked-out perps, watching the car as it quickly drove away from them. Kelvin seemed to relax without the woman in his vicinity, his shoulders dropping but his arms still raised to aim his gun. “We should get these guys…somewhere. I want ‘em the hell up outta my face.” He grumbled before moving to grab his phone and pager from the car to call down the local police. Aaron raised as well, his gaze moving from the sunset the woman drove off into, to the hot pavement the burglar laid on. “Forget them, this one’s probably dead. I wanna know who the hell that was.”

“Someone out of both of our leagues,” Kelvin added, his focus on the phone in his hands. Aaron jerked his head back, sending the man a dirty look. Before he could even begin an argument, Kelvin had already raised his finger, halting him. “Even for you Mr.Playboy. You don’t have a Ferrari.” He said before sending him a sarcastic smile and then turning away with the phone held up his ear.

Meanwhile, in the car, Fabiola had a grin on her face as she pushed her glasses back up into her hair. “Girl, them cops were fione!” She said, causing Addison to laugh. “You know, besides all the armed robbery stuff, that wasn’t a bad sight. I love to see some brothers in action.” She cheesed, letting out a laugh as she rethought the whole ordeal they witnessed.

“Yeah, they were pretty fine.” Addison nodded, dragging out the word pity as she grabbed the matinee she left in the woman’s dashboard. “And probably married. Brothas that cute can’t be single. Agents at that. And in that car? I know their women love them.”

“Mmhmm.” Fabiola hummed in agreement, a small smirk on her lips as she nodded her head. She then let out a scoff at a sudden thought. “Probably white women too.” She stated, causing Addison to let one out as well. “Let’s get off that.” Fabiola waved off with a quick roll of her eyes. She couldn’t dwell on the thought of those fine men being tired down so some non-sisters that couldn’t love them and understand like she could.

What the hell am I talking about? I don’t know them and I’m damn sure never gonna to see them again, get over it, girl. This is the adrenaline and sugar talking. She thought to herself.

“Why the hell don’t I know Miami was this crazy? I knew it was fun in the sun but damn, am I gonna get a gun pulled on me?”

“I’m this car in certain areas? Sista they might try to kidnap you for ransom.”

⊹˚₊‧───────────────‧₊˚⊹

My tumblr is tripping, I don’t have a tag list for some reasons so if you want to be part of it, let me know, and pretend that Aaron has an American accent or I will make jokes on why a British man is apart of the United States FBI.

[gaytommykinard]

(this...got long. there's a lot of backstory and two OCs. bear with me)

ok i was brainstorming in the gc about this bucktommy different first meeting au thats canon divergence from s2 which would begin with buck as a single dad to a 4 year old

because one day he wakes up and social services is at his (abby's) door like surprise! you have a child! or at least that's what it feels like because buck never knew about the kid's existence because the kid's mom did not deem it worthy to let him know. it's not like she couldn't track him down, they were facebook friends. but she still kept this from him? which would cause him so much turmoil, like, that she didn't want her kid to know buck is her dad? local area man loses last shred of self esteem he already had a strenuous grasp on.

but now she's dead, so he can't even talk to her about it, and yeah, there's a 4 year old girl in his house who is missing her mom and not liking this new stranger at all. buck is trying so fucking hard to not break down in front of her but he comes close several times. like, is he ready to be a dad? hell no! he's not now (27) any more than he was when she was born (23) but the point is he IS a dad and he's trying so hard to be a good one. (listen, if you know more about the system and you think this is all wrong: i am sorry. this is a romcom and/or romdrama genre type of story. okay? cool!)

so this woman, someone he knew briefly, and they didn't exactly date, but it wasn't exactly a one-night-stand either, but this woman put him on the birth certificate because she was planning to tell the kid when she was old enough and let her decide if she wants to meet him. she wasn't planning on having kids this soon (28), but it happened, and she decided to keep it, she had a decent job and her own place and an adorable, grumpy old cat who stuck himself to her 24/7 when she was pregnant. her parents were well off and yes, of course they were disappointed, because they wanted better for her, but they got over it quickly. and she really liked evan, but he was three states over by the time she found out, and it seemed like a headache to try to coparent with the fuck buddy you hardly got to know for the month and a half you were together, anyway.

the tragedy is that buck will never really know that. this is very much a putting him in a jar and shaking it around scenario. the point is... buck is struggling. a lot.

and then he meets tommy one night. a rare night out (it's taken him a while to get everything sorted, get his daughter registered in a preschool, find a reliable babysitter (who knew childcare is so fucking hard to arrange when you're estranged from your family and your friends are either the people who work alongside you or your ex-(frat house)-roommates?) but he's getting a handle on things) and chimney invites him out one night because he's going stir-crazy at home recuperating from the near fatal stabbing and buck owes him for all the babysitting favours (there were like. 3 instances, if that. and chimney volunteered because he's actually good with kids, which totally surprises buck but he trusts chimney. and he trusts hen a little more)

anyway. he shows up at the bar and there's chimney and a total stranger. a very handsome stranger. a very funny, charming, handsome stranger.

and tommy. ten minutes into the conversation (work calls, chimney wanted to know, he has terrible fomo), chimes in with, "wait, you're the probie!" because he'd heard a thing or two from chimney, they kept in touch after he transferred, no one, not even canon, can take away my chimneytommy bestfriendsim from me, okay? like chimney would text tommy "can't believe you abandoned us. the probie just stole the ladder truck to get laid" so tommy does not expect this guy to be that guy from chimney's stories.

and yeah. buck had barely finished his probationary year before he got custody of his daughter. and it's been maybe half a year of trying to parent a grief-stricken 4-year-old with more energy than she knows what to do with (once she warms up to buck, she comes out of her shell, and quite literally wreaks havoc in the new house, which isn't in the best state to begin with anyway). and he's so tired. there's like permanent bags under his eyes and a preschool-slash-childcare calendar floating around in his brain 24/7. he maxes out at two beers and then switches to a glass of wine tommy recommends and nurses it for the rest of the night.

because the two of them stay and keep talking long after chimney heads home. tommy listens as buck rambles on about remy. offers to bring her around harbor and he'll give them both a tour. and buck lights up at that. he's totally enchanted by tommy (and he can't really figure out why just yet)

tommy gets a text from chimney the next day asking if he got lucky. and oh my god he fucking wishes he had gotten lucky. he was so tempted to ask if buck wanted to come over. have another drink with him at home. (if buck was into it, then yes, he'd be totally down to fuck. if he got awkward, tommy would have clarified that it was merely a friendly invitation. it's schrodinger's preposition). but he chickened out at the last minute, because yes, he's out now, but still not as confident as he'd like to be, not brave enough to ask out another firefighter, and definitely not a friend of a friend.

but buck calls him about that tour and tommy is more than happy to show them around. he talks to remy like she's his equal, and she warms up to him right around the end of the tour, finds her voice and asks tommy how high can he fly and tells him she can fly higher than that. tommy finds that adorable. (enough to buy her an RC helicopter for christmas. he "was at the shop buying stuff for the toy drive anyway, evan, it's not a big deal! you're the one who said she asked santa for a helicopter!")

it is absolutely a big deal. buck is like. a puddle on the floor. god help him. and yes at some point it occurred to him that he likes tommy. like-likes him. so buck invites him over on christmas eve eve when they're both off and accidentally-on-purpose catches him under the mistletoe and kisses him.

evan buckley started the year as a straight, single man and a probationary firefighter. and he's finishing it a bisexual dad to his 4 year old daughter, and a "we'll see how it goes but yeah i'll be your date for new years eve" man by his side. and i think that's hilarious.

[duskedberry]

Silent protection ( Leon Kennedy x AFAB reader )

A/N : hi :) this is kinda my first fic on Tumblr and I’m still getting the hang of writing smut, so I hope you’ll like it.

TW : smut, p in v, unprotected sex, fingering, no use of y/n.

wordcount : 1,7K

You were cut off from your thoughts by an arm in front of you, Leon’s arm. Walking home from an appointment, there was no way he was letting you walk alone, in the dark. And now that he heard a noise, he had to make you stop so he could check there was nothing coming to harm you. 

“Heard something ?” You asked, not expecting an answer.

As you predicted, he only gave you a stern glance. Several months ago, you would have been offended by his lack of words and his authoritative stare. Now, you had gotten used to it. It was just how Leon was. 

One year, it had been one year since a hot, muscular, blond man had been assigned to your protection. 

Being the only child of a very wealthy family, you were submitted to some sorts of danger. People wanted your money, and for them, you were a great way to get it. 

All this meant people trying to date you for your money, and less subtle people trying to abduct you. And that’s the reason he got hired. Your bodyguard, your protector, Leon. From all you could remember, Leon had never talked to you, except for some small greetings once or twice, 

He followed you around *silently*, protected you *silently* and did everything he had to do *silently*.

You sometimes wondered what his voice sounded like when it said anything other than “hey”.

Leon removed his arms and got back to his steady strides. The silence fell, once again. The rest of the walk was spent without any exchanged words. You got home, Leon went to the guest bedroom that was now almost his own room, and you, slipped in your bed, falling asleep in no time. 

As you opened your eyes, expecting to see the bright sunlight filtering through the window, you were met with the dark obscurity, the one specific to the dead of the night.

You tried to figure out what had caused you to wake up, and your interrogations went unanswered until you heard a *noise*

It wasn’t just a noise, it sounded like a whimper, no, like a cry, like a distressed person. 

Curious, you padded out of your room, quietly slipping into the dark corridor. You headed toward Leon room first, apart from you he was the only one in this house, so unless there was an intruder crying -which thinking about it, was also a completely valid reason to go see Leon- the sound must have been coming from there.

You stood outside the door for a moment, not quite daring to open it. You stayed there, till you heard another cry, *yep, the noise was definitely coming from there*. It was a bit strange hearing all this. You never quite figured out Leon’s voice, having only little to work with. But hearing him cry, you thought his voice wasn’t like you’d imagine it to be.

You gently knocked on the door, and poked your head through the opening. Leon was there, shirtless, sat on his bed, crying half silently. He was hunched and his body was shaking with suppressed sobs. 

Leon had helped you, supported you whenever you had a bad time. Was always protective of you, even when he didn’t need to be. 

Maybe it was your time to return the favor, your time to be there for him.

He didn’t even acknowledge you as you entered, nor as you sat on the bed next to him. He only looked at you when you put your hand on his shoulder. His eyes widened as he saw you and his breathing became even shakier, pink creeping on his cheek from the embarrassment of being caught crying.

“It’s okay, it’s just me. Are you okay ?” You murmured even though the answer was quite obvious.

Leon closed his eyes and nodded.

“Are you sure ? If you want to talk about it, I’m here, I just wanna make sure you’re okay” You attempted again. A man saying  he was okay while crying, was a very not okay man.

“Nightmares” he said gruffly, and that, was the first time you heard him say anything other than greetings. 

His voice was deep, and raspy, he didn’t seem used to talking.

You nodded. You knew Leon had a past, a rather hard one, even if you didn’t have the details. You could only guess that maybe it was related to that.

“Do you want to tell me about it ?”

The man thought for a moment, as if considering, then he slowly shook his head and nodded his head toward the door.

“I won’t go away, while you’re like this, I want to help you” and it was true, you wanted to help him for all the times he had helped you.

“I’ll be fine” he mumbled. The more you heard his voice, the more you wanted to keep hearing it.

You didn’t answered, you did like he always did, you stayed silent, simply leaning your head on his bare shoulder. He tensed, it had been long since he felt another person’s touch. He didn’t mind though, especially when that person was you. You the sweet, funny girl he always tried to protect from the world and his own feeling.

His hand subconsciously went to your shoulder, holding you closer to him. He couldn’t help it, he wanted you, needed you, especially in such times where he was that vulnerable.

“You have a nice voice, you know” you said, breaking the silence that had settled.

Leon titled his head, taken aback by your comment. Leon had gotten used to shutting himself away from everything else. It was strange having someone complimenting his voice.

“Thanks” he answered with a genuine tone. 

He didn’t know exactly what to say, holding a conversation wasn’t something he usually did. Yet with you, it felt right, like he wasn’t wasting his voice. Like he didn’t need to say the right thing, he just needed to say what *felt* right to him.

His head came to rest on yours, slightly tilting so his nose was buried in your hair, smelling their perfume.

He had been your “bodyguard”  for one year, and as much as he hated it, he had fallen for you. How could he not ? You were the definition of perfection to him.

“I like yours too” he suddenly said.

“My voice ?” You looked at him, a bit confused.

“Hmm, it’s nice” he was avoiding your gaze

“Oh thank you” 

You pulled back slightly, looking at him in the eyes, they were shining, the moon reflecting in them. You caught his gaze wandering to your lips and your heartbeat quickened. You didn’t think as you leaned over and pressed your lips on his. He responded quickly enough. The kiss was soft, but it was meaningful. Your lips moved slowly, tentatively.

It soon turned heated. Your tongues seeking each other’s, teeth clanking and saliva dripping from your mouth. It was messy, desperate. His hand found your waist, caressing the soft flesh that was there.

In an excess of confidence, you straddled his lap, earning a groan from him. Leon’s hands traveled south to your hips, pressing you firmly against him. You could feel his growing erection poking against you and you couldn’t help but grind against it, feeling it harden even more. 

“Fuck sweetheart” he grunted. Yeah, you definitely didn’t mind hearing his voice. 

Leon gripped the edges of your shirt, looking in your eyes, seeking for consent. Once you nodded at him, he took it off, discarding it on the floor, smirking as your plush breast were revealed to him. Your hands found themselves on his well traced abs, as he sucked the soft skin of your breast, heading for your nipples. Moans were falling from your lips, and it only arouse him more.

His fingers went to your needy pussy, slipping under your soaked panties, rubbing your entrance with his index and your clit with the pad of his thumb.

“Leon… please” you whined, asking for more.

Leon understood easily and let out a chuckle, at your neediness. *His voice was nice when he laughed too*

Answering your pleas, two of his fingers slid into your cunt, making you arch your back. The man knew what he was doing. Scissoring, curling his fingers inside you. In, out, in out. His thumb had never left your throbbing clit. You were lost in a haze of pleasure, your vision almost becoming blurry from how good he was making you feel. You were close and he could feel it from the way you were clenching around his fingers, and the arousal dripping down on the bed. 

You came short after, pleasure coursing through your whole body. Your thighs closing around his hand. 

You leaned your head on his shoulder once again, catching your breath.

Leon planted a soft kiss on your hair and started lowering his pants, discarding them on the floor where your shirt and pants were now lying. Your panties didn’t took long to join them. You glanced at the spot, wet from precome on his underwear. 

He lowered them too, freeing his cock. 

His cock was massive, like really. The tip was flushed and beading with precome. 

He raised your hips, positioned himself at your entrance, and slowly inched himself into you. You gasped as you felt his tip brush against your cervix. He didn’t move at first, letting you adjust to his size and the feel of him. You grinded your hips after a moment, signaling him to start moving, and he did. Bouncing you on his cock with his strong hands. 

You were a babbling mess, moaning his name on repeat. And Leon, for someone that was always so silent, was incredibly vocal, groaning and grunting as he felt your velvety walls squeeze around him. 

“Shit baby, so fucking good” 

He was close and so were you, his praises driving you toward the edge. Being the gentleman that he was nonetheless, he was determined to make you come first.

He kept pounding into you faster and harder, his grip on your hips so tight you were sure it would leave bruises.

“Come for me baby, let me feel you”

You were done for. Coming on his cock, clenching around him so tight, your juice dripping down your thighs, soaking his balls and the bed. After a few thrust he came too, shooting ropes of thick cum inside you.

You both took a moment, catching your breath as you felt him soften inside you. He pulled out a moment after, cleaning you out before settling back on the bed next to you, his nightmare long gone forgotten and a voice ready to be used

[marzipanandminutiae]

I Am Never Not Thinking About Charlotte Canda And The Commodification Of Dead Young (White, Conventionally Attractive) Women

so, Charlotte Canda was born around 1838 in New York City. likely adopted in infancy, she was raised by French expat Charles Canda and his wife Adele as their own. Charles ran a fashionable girls' school in Brooklyn where Charlotte was a great favorite, proving to be a polymath with skills in five languages, drawing, music, and amateur architectural design. she was nicknamed "The French Girl," and led something of a charmed life with her intellectual pursuits, loving parents, friends, and pet parrots

...and then she died in a carriage accident on the night of her 17th birthday

Charles had gotten out of the carriage to walk Charlotte's friend to her front door, the coachman stepped away for some reason, and the horses spooked and ran off with the coach- and Charlotte. she either attempted to jump out or was thrown out, at the corner of Broadway and Waverly Streets, and suffered fatal injuries. rumor is that her mother had had a premonition and begged her not to attend the party her friends were throwing, but rumors are common and confirmation of them, rare

like the rumors that sprung up after her death

since Charlotte had been so young, talented, and apparently beautiful- and her grave was an extravagant monument she'd designed herself for her aunt Clemence a year earlier -she excited the public's imagination. a Tragic Dead Maiden needed a Mourning Swain...and a year later, when family friend Albert Jarrett de la Marie killed himself, she got one

except that Albert's suicide was. um. extremely well-investigated. and stated in public records to have nothing to do with Charlotte. he left a suicide note, saying that he'd fallen in love with a married woman in Italy and couldn't bear to bring shame on his family. Charles Canda allowed him to be buried alongside the family plot in Green-Wood Cemetery because of their longstanding friendship

I've never seen contemporary evidence that Albert and Charlotte were even close, let alone married. the family papers are not known to survive, but other letters from the time of the incident do. and no mention is made of the supposed engagement between the two that pop history in NYC now loves to cite. they were society people- SOMEONE would have said something. or he would have...you know...mentioned Charlotte in his suicide note? at all?

this whole relationship between a barely 17-year-old girl and a 36-year-old man, fabricated because. some people just couldn't stand the idea that she died single, I suppose. (I'm not saying age gaps like that didn't happen back then, but they were FAR from the norm)

[baocean]

no rest for the wicked

chapter two - flowers & grapefruit

masterlist | next chapter

finding out your twin sister is alive after two weeks of trying to grieve her is a weird feeling.

then, finding out your brother shot your sister over money, that’s an even weirder feeling.

you’d been dragged through the mud these last few weeks. you haven’t been sleeping, haven’t been eating, your friends stopped reaching out after three or four tries.

your house wasn’t safe anymore. you flipped your shit on rafe when you found out he shot sarah. your sister, his sister. you just found out she was alive, and rafe’s trying to fucking kill her again.

now, you’re scared rafe knows you’re just as against him as sarah is. personally, you were scared. for yourself, for sarah, for wheezie. you had absolutely no idea what rafe was capable of, he just kept out performing himself.

conforming to the plan of staying alive, and after rafe scared you shitless with one of his crazy rants after trapping you in the kitchen, you went along with what he said, told people rafe was at home when the sheriff was shot, said sarah was awol.

you prayed that it would end up helping you, getting you back to your sister, getting the sheriff justice.

you’d keep out of the pogues way, half of them were batshit crazy anyway, go about your business. not anger your brother enough for him to point a loaded gun at you.

you walked the beach the next morning, wondering where sarah and john b were. they could be anywhere, by now.

it was sunrise, nothing but tourons walking their dogs and early morning runners out.

it was peaceful, beautiful. with the constant threats and reminders of what was happening at home, it was nice to get away, even for a little.

you were completely conflicted. rafe, your dad, sarah, they were your family. all of them have done bad things, including you. you couldn’t sit here and watch john b go down for something rafe did, but rafe was also your brother. ‘he needs help’, you kept reassuring yourself, ‘if he just got the help he needed, everything would be okay’.

you’d been around town, pretending everything was normal. you’d been back at the club while you watched people whisper about your sister. you also hadn’t seen any of the pogues since the party, hoping and praying that rafe had nothing to do with their disappearance.

at the same time you were heading back to your house, sarah and the rest of her friends were heading back to obx from charleston, after being reunited.

“i need to see yn.” sarah sighed, looking out onto the water. she hadn’t spoken to you in two weeks, the longest you’d ever gone without talking to one another. even the time she burnt your hair off trying to curl it, you only lasted seven days before you cracked.

“are you fucking kidding me?” jj broke the silence, everyone else simply not knowing how to.

“yes, i’m serious. she thinks im dead, jj.”

“nah, i told her the other day.” jj casually dropped, sarah giving him a confused look.

“why would you do that?”

“i thought she had the right to know. she wanted to tell rafe, but uh, guess he figured that one out on his own.” jj’s eyes flickered to sarah’s wound on her lower stomach.

“you know she’s telling people rafe wasn’t even there that day?” kiara spoke, harsh tone lacing her words.

everyone else remained silent, sarah just sighed. “i’m sure she has a good reason for it.”

“or maybe she’s just as psycho as rafe. did we ever think about that? can’t the mentally ill gene be passed down to multiple kids?” jj stood up.

“jj, just- just fucking stop, okay?” sarah fought back, forcing her blond friend back into his seat. “yn’s not perfect. but she’s not rafe. i know her, she’s not rafe.”

sarah defending you all while her heart was sinking to her feet. the thought of her twin sister defending her brother had that kind of effect on her.

you sat in your sisters room, looking at the photos on her dresser, the heap of dirty laundry in the corner, her comforter still messy from the morning when she left.

it still smelled like her, like flowers and grapefruit, like the perfume she wore.

you were relieved beyond belief that sarah was still alive, but you had no idea if you’d ever see her again.

the constant fear of what was happening, what could happen was all too much.

your breathing picked up, unable to get a deep breath of air. the world blurred around you, but you’ve had one of these before. you recognized this.

you had panic attacks the night your mom left, the few weeks after that. you didn’t have another one until you found out your sister died, that one hitting you so hard you didn’t remember the rest of the night.

and just as the tear fell down your cheek, your phone started to ring.

an unknown number, the one you had memorized anyway. why was jj calling?

you let it ring, trying to compose yourself the best you could. you were a cameron, grow the fuck up.

picking up the phone, your name was spoken before you could get a word out yourself.

your heart dropped, “sarah?”

“it’s me, sunshine.” her laugh rang through the phone, sending you into another fit of sobs.

sunshine was sarah’s favorite name for you, because in most cases, you were the complete opposite.

“oh my god, you’re here? are you okay? rafe fucking shot you, sarah. where are you?” you shot up, then realized rafe was probably in the other room, shunning your voice.

“i’m here, i’m fine. i’m at the chateau, using jj’s phone. i might come home, to talk to dad, to get help.”

“don’t come home. i can come there.”

“yea, that’s probably not the best idea right now. with you defending rafe and all.” sarah’s voice was hesitant, like at any moment, you’d snap at her too.

“sarah, i swear i don’t want to. rafe has gone off the fucking rails. we need to get him help.” you ran a shaky hand through your hair, pacing back in forth in your twin’s room.

“i know, i’m going to talk to dad. just, just stay there okay?”

“okay, i love you sare bear.” you smiled, even if it was weak. your sare bear, your sister. you couldn’t believe you were actually talking to her right now.

“love you too, sunshine.” and then the line was disconnected.

oh my god. oh my god. you were still so unsure how all of this happened so quickly.

one minute, your life is great. you have friends, money, great family, a guy to take your frustrations out on, all of it. then, all of the sudden you’re in this mess, and the only thing you have left is the cameron name.

an hour later, you were waiting outside on the patio, holding a book as a cover to pretend you busy.

you’d been waiting outside for sarah for almost thirty minutes, giving up hope that she was still coming.

you heard her before you saw her, popping up and throwing the book to the side. “sarah?”

seeing her made your heart physically hurt. she tried to smile, barely having it in her.

it was genuinely like a scene out of a movie, you felt like time was moving in slow motion.

you ran to where she has standing on the docks, colliding with her so hard you thought she’d fall over.

embracing her as hard as you could, you thought everything could finally be okay. that maybe you could be a family again, put it all behind you.

then, you heard your dad call her name.

you both turned around, and watched your dad walk towards you.

“sarah, my baby, i’m so happy you’re alive.” he weeped. sarah stepped back from him on instinct, grabbing your arm for reassurance.

a string of no’s and get back’s came from sarah, and you gave him a look.

the one thing sarah and you had in common were your eyes. you’d always been told that, actually. you guys had the same eye shape, color, lashes, everything. they always held so much emotion, unable to fully mask how you were feeling, ever.

right now, your dad had two sets of of the same sad eyes looking back at him.

“dad, cmon. give her some space.”

after a long talk, and much to sarah’s surprise, your dad did not agree or reason with her. by the time she was finished, she was crying.

“dad, i’m not coming home.” sarah said, making both you and your dad’s heads snap to her.

“what?” you breathed out, and she turned to you, a look of only sympathy painting her face.

“we’ll talk about it later, okay?” she nodded, smiled, then starting backing up towards the dock.

“then i’m coming with you.” you turned your entire body to her, raising your voice.

a tear slipped down sarah’s face, shaking her head no.

“what?” you drew out, almost mad at her that she had said no. you went to take a step forward, but two arms wrapped around your torso, forcing you back.

“i can’t let you do that, sweetie.” your dad hummed in your ear.

and with that, you started screaming, throwing your fists and kicking whatever you could to try to get your dad to let go of you.

sarah, still crying, started running towards the dock as you yelled her name.

you were sobbing now, weeping your sisters name as you watched her drive off on the boat, your dad still holding onto you for dear life.

after that, your dad locked you in your room for two days. something about your safety, who knows, you weren’t listening to him.

sarah finally got her phone back, and you ignored her several attempts to ‘talk about it later’.

sarah: yn please talk to me

sarah: i’m sorry things are so complicated right now i couldn’t bring you back to the chateau not right now

sarah: i can’t lose you too please text me back

sarah: dad called the police on john b. he’s in jail.

you didn’t answer the texts, at least, not right away. not until you got few other ones.

unknown: did you know your fucking dad was gonna call the cops on john b?

unknown: text sarah back and stop being a fucking bitch

taglist - @ethanthequeefqueen @rafegetinmybed @str4wb3rrym1lkl0v3r @cassiewritessalot @lilygrxcem @arabellamaybank @sabrina-carpenter-stan-account @ineedtherapy1 @doesnt-care @imrkos @freyawhitexxx1 @bee-43 @dr3amgrlll

[phoenixyfriend]

I had a very long Star Wars dream last night. Baffling level of narrative coherency for a dream.

Started out with Obi-Wan Kenobi, our bespectacled thirty-something, going to a university for a Grad Student thing. He's been working for nonprofits for some time, and wants to get a degree to further his work.

He gets to an advisor's office, (which is a Generic Salt-And-Pepper White Man buuuuuut we could probably swap out for an actual AU, maybe make it Mace?) who walks him through the courses and prereqs and so on. Great. All going good. He goes out to some kind of program meeting with his fellow grad students (some straight out of undergrad, some his age) and a sort of team lead person who is… Anakin Skywalker.

And it is. Tense. Like 'everyone can feel it' tense. Anakin's doing something Doctoral, whatever, and his purpose right now is to Program Manage these grad students in another department (Anakin does some analytics and database stuff for the department), and one of those students is Obi-Wan Kenobi and nobody can figure out what the damage is.

They attempt professionalism. They are… cordial. They avoid each other otherwise.

Several weeks in, there's a "we should talk confrontation" and Anakin blows up because the time to talk was years ago, Obi-Wan! Like five to ten years ago! When shit went down!

FLASHBACK TIME: These two were doing crime. It was a team of seven. I don't remember all of whom were involved but it was definitely them two, Rex and Cody, maybe Quinlan? and a few other people. (Not Ahsoka, she was excluded for safety because teenager).

They were probably doing some kind of Leverage stuff but also possibly some domestic terrorism. A job went bad, Cody died, and they all kinda split to do their own things. Partly this was to dodge law enforcement, but partly it was because they were all fucked up and grieving.

Obi-Wan wanted to take some time to himself to grieve, which Anakin was upset about because they're not just brothers in arms, they're basically brothers, at least in Anakin's eyes, and they had a huge blow-up fight about it. They haven't spoken since.

(Rex is in Anakin's life again. He acts as an Uncle figure to the twins. He is also… not in the best mental space, considering his own dead brother.)

Obi-Wan ends up getting pulled aside to talk to someone, probably Mace or Yoda, and a no-criminal-activity version of the story spills out. And it's very 'well what the fuck am I supposed to do with that' because the person pulling him aside was thinking it was like… they had a one-night stand before the program started and now they don't know how to navigate the power dynamic, not grief and distance and family bullshit.

IDK where it was gonna go from there, I think they were still circling each other like feral cats trying to decide what to do when I woke up.

(There was a sideplot about Padme and the twins doing fun things in the basement, but the fun things included a well that they'd use to act out Alice in Wonderland and other insane stuff. Which they loved but was weird. Why do you have a well that's at least ten feet deep in your basement, Padme. Why are you putting your kids in there. Also I had to run away from a bunch of wasps into a pool.)

Rex and Cody! Are just! Background Grief Bullshit! But it hovers over the entire fic.

I think Quinlan should bully his way back into Obi-Wan's life before the plot starts.

And he's the one that angles Obi-Wan into going to This Specific University. That Anakin's at.

He didn't expect them to be that close contact, just wanted them to run into each other in the hall and make amends. In my mind, the timeline is that the crime group broke up for opsec, then a year or two later Quinlan shows up on Obi-Wan's doorstep with intent to Friendship.

Obi-Wan would have done the same with Anakin but their fight was so big and horrible that he doesn't think he'd be welcome.

NGL even in the dream I was like "wow this seems like a really intense Obikin fic concept," but every time I thought about it, the dream would hammer in on the BROTHERS thing again.

[millylotus]

Batfam Favorite Colors

I've been thinking about this mostly cause I don't think Duke like, really likes yellow ya know. And then I realized how many people in the batfam like the color red/have it in like their top two.

Duke! - My guy! My boy! I think his favorite colors are Red & Orange, & like black as an accent color. He doesn't were white often because that's like not easy to clean, and he never really got into the habit even when he started living with the Waynes. The most is like a graphic-tee or basic tee, or undershirt, something that he needs for specific fits ya know. When he was a kid Donnie was his favorite turtle, but Raph is a very close second mainly cause he was the red one. He liked yellow well enough. But when Bruce gave him the Signal suit his feelings on the color changed over time. Signal never really felt like his own thing. He didn't even get to choose the name, and the yellow, and the light and his complicated relationship with both Bruce & Gnomon made him sort of uncomfortable with yellow. He doesn't wear it much out of the suit and he tends to even stray from gold jewelry, sticking to silver and black. He wouldn't say he hates it, both a bit scared & unsure on what that might mean. But nothing in his room is yellow except gifts from those who really don't know him well.

-----

Jason! Jason likes Red, he's always liked red, but when he was younger he like Yellow a bit more. It was the color of the cape [basically a cloak lets be honest] he wore as Robin. And Robin gave him magic. The cape was protection and light all at once. It made him feel special. When he died and came back yellow lost it's luster, it was innocence, it was naivety it was dead magic. And he just wasn't gonna go back to it once he became Red Hood. That perfect little Robin needed his color to be kept sacred. So Jason doesn't wear yellow anymore. Like at all, he avoids it and even gold in most cases. He likes red, cause it's red and it's pretty and once before it might have meant a beating heart, now it meant fresh blood & he doesn't think he deserves any other connotation.

-----

Timbit! - How I lo(v)(th)e you :)))) Tim's favorite colors are Red, Brown & Gold. He says he likes red more, and he does love red really, but at his heart of hearts it Brown, Gold & Blue. But he felt a need as a child to conform to what the batfamily wanted. He vaguely understood how siblings where with each other & knew he could only have one color to call his own. So he chose red, cause Dick likes Blue, & Jason liked Yellow, & Babs likes Purple. Cause what other color was there. He grew to love Blue because of Dick, that's his brother and that specific shade of electric/sky blue felt like home. But he really likes browns, like genuinely shades of brown are his favorite and his entire house-boat has such nice shades of brown wood. He shrinks away from using white in anything but a clinical setting, and fills all that space with a nice beige or pale gold. Gold & Brown just go so well together how could he not love them both. He loves brown eyes and for a long time unknowingly went for people with brown eyes alot [not me pushing my brown-eyed steph propaganda].

-----

Dami-baby! Damian's favorite colors are Green, Brown, Black, & Gold. I know most don't like the Al Ghuls, and yeah they're fucked up but so is the Bat-Family, and honestly I think Damian cares about both sides of his family. Sometimes when he's laying in bed, not even trying to sleep he looks at his rooms and yearns lightly for the perfect brown stone walls of his childhood bedroom. Of the beams, columns & spandrels of dark brown, engraved with images of his favorite animals. Of the curtains and fabrics dyed emerald green, with golden cross-stitching. It feels like home. And as times goes on he makes peace with his homesickness, doing so by bringing that green into his things at the manor. Up against the dark brown walls that he'd go and put bright paintings over. He likes black though, never really thought he would and more so forced himself to when he was younger and still trying to be his father. But at some point he grew to genuinely love the color of shadow black. It began to mean home & protection, along the previous danger & deception [though in a better light]. He'd wear it more with a casual air and not so much overthinking about it. They really just are his favorite colors

-----

Casssssandra! Cass likes Black, White & Rose Gold. Basic as it may seem to you I think she likes them quite alot. She unironically has a very luxury taste for things. She like fine jewelry and master made clothes. Everything in her life is expensive, she lives in the lap of luxury. And that's not in some dumb way where she doesn't know how much things cost. She does & she's very aware, she's just always had this. David Cain might not have taught her how to do much more than fight but every weapon needs far above optimal care. She likes the uniformity of black, the pretty simplicity of it, how it hides shape and movement, a secret all of it's own. She likes white because it accentuates shape, white gets shadows, shadows that show off the light of white. She likes the way they make her feel, all mysterious but also open and accepting. Rose Gold is just the prettiest to her, it's so rich & soft, & bright & mute, it's her favorite metal and any jewelry she has will be made of it.

-----

Babsy - Bad seed watchu gonna do, got a bully on our tail gotta run we gotta bail! I think her favorite colors are Purple & Green. She grew up loving purple, it was in all of her clothes and accessories. She had strips of her hair dyed purple as a kid & then got those adjustable scene kid extensions in purple. Her Batgirl fit is all purple because she had more purple than black and she wasn't gonna change that. To this day purple is her favorite color, but she'll have seconds here and there. Green is a close second fave, it grew on her as she got older. When she was trying to set her self up as Oracle, it was green that people often associated with Oracles & Tech at the time. So she ran with it for consistency and it eventually became a favorite. It melded in with purple and about a little less than half of her once purple things are now green.

-----

STE-PHA-NIE-AH! Steph likes Purple, and she's sweet on Black. She's always been a pretty feminine person, a finding herself as a femme latter in life. And Purple was her girly Pink. It just spoke to her it made her feel happy. She wears as much Purple as she can get her hands, and every major item in her wardrobe in Purple. Of course in a coordinated way so it doesn't look ridiculous but still. Black was just a nice accent color for her, before it grew to mean safety & deception, and in a way it compliments her bombastic & free Purple she so loves.

-----

Hickory-Dick-ory! Dick's favorite colors as a child are Red, Green, & Yellow. Because that's him, that Robin, that's the Graysons. His family legacy carried on in one other iconic performance outfits. For a long time he would never dream of not being in those colors of being Robin. But of course everyone changes, and Dick's favorite colors change. He loves being Robin but he's grown older, in a sense he's molting those colorful feathers. He wants to be a grown man [even though he's still a teenager, somewhere between 16-19], but to the whole world Robin is a child & will always be a child, Batman's sunshine, Batman's hope. Robin is nothing without Batman in that era and Dick knows that. And he still loves Robin he truly deeply does, but he can't be Robin without being seen as a child & he can't fucking stand that he can't have that. So he makes a bit of a pivot. He gets a deepcut V-Neck and skin tight Drag-King fit that honestly absolutely fucks. And he choses a name both so edgy & so cool, and he picks a different costume to base this new him on. And he falls absolutely in love with Blue. And he never falls out of it, he still like Red, Green, & Yellow. But Blue has somehow taken his heart away & is never gonna give it back. Needless to say his wardrobe has done a complete 180 in comparison to when he was 12.

-----

Bruce. o_o His fave is Black, I know a shocker truly, who could have guessed! But he also has a complicated relationship with literally ever other color. Black is simple, it's straight forward, gets the job done. He finds comfort in it's shadow & cover & protection. Of the caves & bats he once found terrifying now bringing him so much peace. But it isn't a solely void color, it's built up of the vibrancy & intensity of every color ever. And with different blacks there are more colors that show through. He likes a nice blue-black, he's been told it goes well with his eyes, but it's also the color of Martha's favorite velvet dress. He gravitates towards red-black because many of his children enjoy that color. In fact if you look close enough & graph it you'll notice Bruce wears specif hues of black depending on which child is most around him.

-----

Random Disclaimer~ - I'm gonna speed blitz the rest of these bat-bitches Kate K! - Red & Black, but in the way that she uses Red to try & recapture her fear of it and use to scare others. Watching he mom blead out red, and her hair in that blood fucked her up. But now she looks like the bloody demon that haunted her. Martha W - She likes creams & pearly colors, and has a special spot for dark blues and such. And enjoys a nice velvet sheen to any and all colors Talia AlG - Her faves are Pink, White, Green, & Gold. Absolutely adores those colors, you will find them everywhere in her wardrobe, but they aren't all she has of course she's a fashionista. Femininity is her, truly.

[ahoysteviex]

WRITING COMMISSIONS OPEN‼️IN FINANCIAL DISTRESS

Hello everyone. I'm opening writing commissions because I am in dire financial distress right now. PLEASE consider hiring me or donating to me right now. My family NEEDS help.

MY SITUATION:

I am currently living with my family and we are living with relatives. My father has been nonstop searching for work and getting nothing in return. He will get interviewed sometimes and despite being more than qualified and the interview going well, he won't get the job. My mother is disabled and can only work part time but has also not had any luck getting part time work. I have a younger sister who has to be taken out of school and put into online school because we cannot afford gas to drive her to and from school every day. My mother just got discharged from the hospital two days ago after having surgery to have her thyroid removed because she had thyroid cancer. She's an amputee and cannot afford the supplies for her prosthesis. We have a phone bill to pay as well as a storage unit payment for a unit with all of our stuff in it that we'll lose if we cannot make the payment.

To make matters worse, my maternal grandparents are evil people (I can make a separate post explaining this situation further if need be) and had it out for my parents for months. They are emotionally and mentally abusive and manipulative people. Last month, they started a loud, heated argument, as is typical for them. It was relatively short, but eventually my father leaned over and slammed the bedroom door. Honestly, "slammed" even feels like a stretch. But my grandparents called the police and lied to them by saying my dad slammed my grandfather's hand in the door. The police arrested my dad over this despite there being little to no physical evidence and my mother, sister, and I all testifying that it was not true. This happened the weekend before Christmas. My great uncle was able to call in a friend and get my dad released from jail, but he's going to have to sign bonds papers tomorrow and we do not have the $350 they're asking for, so my father may be detained again. He is just getting his foot in the door at Wal-Mart and is waiting on them to call him to finish his onboarding process and this is throwing a wrench into all that.

We're trying desperately to get on our feet. We want to move in to a place of our own. But it's just one misfortune after another. We need money to pay for my mom's medical expenses, our storage unit, our phone service/Internet, gas, and now legal expenses to keep my dad with us. And that doesn't even touch on the car trouble.

MY WRITING:

These commissions are a desperate attempt to help myself and my family, as writing is my only real skill.

I have experience writing for OR would be able to write for the following fandoms:

Stranger Things

Arcane

Texas Chainsaw Massacre

Scream (1994)

Apex Legends

Overwatch

God of War (4 & 5)

Baulder's Gate 3

Dead by Daylight

Cyberpunk 2077

Disco Elysium

My Chemical Romance

Panic! at the Disco

Fall Out Boy

One Direction

I'm proficient in romance, angst, fluff, domestic/familial, and NSFW. I'll write basically anything as long as it isn't a NSFW situation involving minors or animals. I'll write Canon Character x Canon Character, Original Character x Canon Character, and Reader Insert. I'll even do those little head-canon posts. Anything, I just need commissions.

You can find examples of my work on Ao3 here, or under my "my writing" tag here on Tumblr.

I will also beta read for you!

Here is my ko-fi.

Please use that to buy a commission from me! You can also donate there without buying a commission if you want to do that too. And if you aren't in a position to help financially, PLEASE reblog this post to get more eyeballs on it so that other people are given the opportunity to help me.

Thank you for reading. ❤️‍🔥

[aerofbreath]

DP x DC Idea

Everyone still ends up dead no matter what but that wasn't until Danny's parents found out about his Halfa Status. They still love him unconditionally and even try to go back on it and get they still die in the end. All of his friends and family. Hell, the ENTIRETY of Amity Park is destroyed at the hands of the GIW.

In a last ditch effort, Danny's parents throw him through the panel and set it to self destruct. But Danny's stronger than that. It's been a few years before his parents eventually found out and he knows he's much stronger than what he was. So he makes his own portal back home and he's just met with... nothing. When he made his own portal back to the basement- He should literally be able to step out of his portal. Instead he's met with a deep crater at least a mile tall and many miles wide.

Danny mourns by accidentally letting out his ghostly wail. Now, the fall of Amity Park also brought down whatever the fuck the GIW had up so that nothing can get out of Amity. So that means his Ghostly Wail can be heard everywhere. Of course, it still drains Danny to the point of detransforming and going unconscious.

Danny's falling at a fast rate before strong arms catch him, saving him from smashing his head open on the ground. Only the ghosts that came to Danny's will know that it was actually Superman that saved him.

On the other side of the planet, Clark had ended up hearing the devastating wail full of nothing but sadness and death. Thinking it was a threat, Clark quickly flew to the origin only to see Danny wailing his heart out before draining himself and collapsing.

Clark realizes that Danny means no harm but is concerned by the destruction. It was the ghosts that came to help Danny that informed Superman of just this:

"We cannot trust humans at this time. Return our King to us. All this blame goes to the Ghost Investigation Ward."

[ladyeyrewrites]

Hey, i wanna ask for some 💭💭💭💭💭💭 and 👻👻👻👻👻 please😊

@eliotwaughdeservesbetter Here you go! Thanks for making me write!

💭But I Was Just in Peru Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9

“Unc Buck,” little Kevin tries to imitate, but he’s a bit behind where he should be speech wise. Evan was telling Tommy about how Maddie was looking to start him with a speech pathologist soon only the day before. God, it feels like a lifetime since they were curled together on the sofa after Tommy’s shift talking about how Evan was worried about how stressed Maddie seemed. And now Maddie’s got her brother’s missing memory to worry about on top of her kid.

“How is he?” Bobby asks, and it once again strikes Tommy how lucky Evan is to have come to the 118 while Bobby was there, to have been shaped by someone who cares so much, someone who grew to become more of a father to Evan than Tommy’s actual father-in-law and God, Tommy’s going to have to call Phillip and Margaret and tell them what’s happened.

He’s never quite sure where he stands with them. They’ve been nothing but polite since Evan first introduced Tommy to them, almost painfully polite. Like they know there’s a way they’re supposed to act in order to keep up appearances, but they never seem to express a genuine emotion unless they’re criticising Evan over something, which automatically puts Tommy on the defensive when he’s around them. Honestly, the only reason he’s polite to them is because Evan’s trying to hard to have a relationship with them and Tommy guesses they’re trying to, in their own way.

Evan having amnesia is certainly going to throw a wrench into repairing their relationship, though.

But that’s a problem for the future. For now, he has to say something. He has to look the anxious eyes of Evan’s chosen family and tell them that Evan isn’t their Buck right now, that they’re all strangers to him. Tommy takes a deep breath, filling his lungs as though extra oxygen will somehow soften the blow he has to strike. “He’s awake,” Tommy begins.

And some 👻 Marry My Dead Tommy snippet 1 and 2

“Motherfucker!” Chim swore. “Not again! Why am I always the one getting haunted?” First his mom’s ghost and then Kevin and now Tommy Kinard of all people. At least his mom had crossed over once she’d been sure Chim was safe with the Lees. Kevin seemed to come and go as he pleased, warning Chim of any danger before it happened before disappearing again. What kind of ghost was Tommy going to be?

Tommy shrugged. “Trust me, if I had the option of haunting someone else, I would.”

Being haunted by Tommy hadn’t been as bad as Chim had first thought it would be. Turned out that without the pressures of living and working under Gerrard’s thumb, Tommy was actually pretty fun. After work, Chim would come home and they’d watch movies together and Tommy would gripe about the cheap beer Chim kept stocked in his fridge even though Tommy couldn’t consume anything anymore.

When Hen started at the 118, Tommy got real quiet. It wasn’t that he disappeared. He hovered around the firehouse even more if anything, scowling at Gerrard and the guys who played along with him. Not that Chim exactly stood up for Hen, either, but he tried to at least be friendly.

Tommy had gone a little poltergeist, not towards Hen, but rather towards Gerrard: moving his coffee, knocking things off his desk, burning his uniform. “What’s with the pranks man?” Chim had asked him one day when they were back at Chim’s place watching Fight Club.

“I just hate how he’s treating her,” said Tommy.

Make Me Write

[moonmaiden1996]

Hi 😊👋 Corazon and Sanji both are my favourites (not that they're both blondes but they share the same endless kindness 🥰). So yeah I'd love to read sth about Corazon ♥️. I'm not sure if he ever had sex or even an relationship but he has so much love to give. Maybe you could write sth about spending a night with Cora? Might be the first time for both as a couple. 👀

18+ with some spoilers

So, I’m in two minds about this. Corazon is 100% a virgin. His trauma runs far too deep. After watching his mother die and his brother kill their father, his entire existence became a mission: a duty to keep his brother’s monstrous tendencies in check and save as many people as he could. It’s hard to imagine he’d ever think of anything beyond that.

But then again, maybe he would. After all, they’re gods—why wouldn’t his brother use others for his own pleasure, as cruel as that is I am not sure how his brother could escape his brother inclinations. Personally, though, I think Corazon is desperate for connection and would avoid his brothers desires at all costs. There are moments when he catches himself watching a couple at the port, jealousy bubbling up inside him as he observes how in love they are, the way they look at each other, and how they laugh. Sometimes, he sees young families—a mother laughing, a father pushing a stroller while their baby coos up at them—and he aches for that life so intensely his mind begins to wander.

In those stolen moments, he imagines a faceless woman by his side, pushing a stroller, while Law runs ahead with a smile he’s almost too proud to permit. He thinks about it so hard, he once walked straight into a lamppost, much to the hilarity of the other executives.

But then comes a miracle. Left for dead, he’s saved by a passing merchant, and for the first time, he’s allowed to live a little, to fall in love. (I’ve seen Dressrosa—let me dream, okay?)

Falling in love isn’t easy for Corazon—or, let’s call him Rosinante. It takes time. Time to heal. Time to process. Time to trust. The fire that once made him a spy had dimmed, flickering weakly in the wind of his pain and loss. And yet, you—you, the sweet little woman who came into his life—were the spark that reignited that flame, making him blaze brighter than ever before.

At first, he’s hesitant. Very hesitant. He feels monstrous compared to you, towering over you with his broad, lanky frame and muscle-packed build. He’s terrified of hurting you. To him, you’re a beacon of light in his darkest days, and the thought of his brother finding you, hurting you, or—god forbid—coveting you, is his deepest fear.

It would take your gentle patience to help him through this. You’d speak to him of your burning desire but never force or badger him. You’d make it clear that you’re waiting for him, whenever he’s ready. And when he is ready, he’d want to be careful.

“I just don’t want to hurt you,” he’d mumble against your skin during one of your passionate embraces—those moments where his kisses seared your skin and his hands wandered, peeling away clothes to reveal heated, blushing flesh.

“You won’t, my love,” you’d reassure him, kissing that sensitive spot on his neck that made him shiver.

“But…” His protests would falter as his eyes took in your soft, eager figure, flushed and inviting.

“Hush, my love. Let me,” you’d whisper.

And he would. He’d let you lead, following your every direction like a devoted worshipper. He’d marvel at you as you straddled him, your skin glowing in the soft light.

Now, let me tell you—this man is proportionate. He’s thick and long—not ridiculously long, but enough that you’d feel every inch of his size. You’d have to take your time, working your way down on him as he watches with a mix of awe and concern.

“Love… don’t push yourself,” he’d frown up at you, worry etched on his face.

“Hush…” you’d moan softly, taking your time, moving up and down his tip, your movements drawing gasps and shudders from him. He’d tremble beneath you, marveling at the sight of you taking him in.

This man would be sweating and rigid, utterly captivated as you slowly worked your way lower, stretching yourself to accommodate him. His long, elegant fingers, guided by your hand, would find that sensitive bundle of nerves, sending waves of pleasure through you. Your moans would fill the room, spurring him on, until you finally took him fully. His hands would pull you closer as you reached your peak, a shattering orgasm ripping through you.

Corazon would be a mess, overwhelmed by the sensation of you fluttering around him. If he didn’t lose control then and there, it wouldn’t take much more to send him over the edge. But true to his gentlemanly nature, he’d restrain himself, making sure you’re satisfied before letting go. And oh, how he’d adore watching you ride him.

Afterward, as you cuddled up, he’d take meticulous care of you, ensuring you were cleaned up and comfortable. You’d marvel at how gracefully this man moved—well, until he faceplanted onto the floor, completely naked.

I adore this man. Corazon, Sanji and Shanks are my favs! I think I have a type for goodhearted men who could defiantly rock my world. Oh the day dreams I have about these three.

Buttt Corazon is undervalued in my opinion! I just want to shake Oda till he finds a way to bring him back. But this is all I have for now.

I hope you like this, I had great fun imagine this tall, blonde, gentle giant. Keep you asks coming! Anything and everything! Any character....go on I dare you...I double dare you!

[happypopcornprincess]

Under the Same Sky Part 2

Pairings - Joaquin Torres X fem!Reader (TFATWS AU)

Premise - You have your heart guarded for the longest time. But when you encounter a stranger on the same mission, will you be able to do the same?

Word Count - 4.2K

Warnings: Gore, blood, SMUT, minors DNI

a/n - I'm sorry for being late about the second part, a relative of mine passed away after new year and I was with family. This part is dedicated to all the lover girls by heart out there. may you find your lover and have an amazing story. Hope you guys like it <3 Take care.

The wind picked up speed as Lucas and his team stepped on the backyard of the Wilson Residence. Guns drawn, stance ready, they took the steps to the back entrance.

Nadia and Artie moved in first, Matt in tow and Lucas in the end. They hear not a single sound around them. Matt signaled clear after checking the rooms and the kitchen, Nadia let her shoulders relax watching him sign.

“Where are they?” Artie whispered.

The radio in the kitchen turns on its own accord…

Can't stay at home, can't stay at school

Old folks say, "Ya poor little fool"

Down the streets I'm the girl next door

I'm the fox you've been waiting for!

Lucas shoots the radio; the broken device fell to the floor with a thud. A scratched-out sound of Cherry Bomb still playing on.

“That’s a shame…”

Nadia was too slow to turn before you hit her head with the butt of your Glock, “I love that song.”

Artie fell on the floor as Joaquin kicked him in the back, you advanced towards Matt. The first thing that bastard did was to kick off the floor and punch you square in the jaw, but you duck in record time, just to kick his feet off the ground and lose your Glock in the process.

Joaquin got busy with Artie and Lucas, who had teamed up to defeat him. Lucas ducked a kick on his chest, and Artie tried to stab him in the neck. Joaquin got a knife out of his belt and fought with all his might, after throwing Lucas on the kitchen table.

Matt was twice your size, he got up in no time trying to throw you off your feet but you were smarter than that, you ran on the wall, kicking off it and using the velocity to climb his shoulders. You pull a hidden wire from your wrist, falling back and choking him in the process. Matt fought hard to get a hold of you, but you pressed on harder. His movements slowed down, and eventually he stilled as you released the wire.

Joaquin was pinned down on the ground with Artie on top of him, his blade inches away from his windpipe. Joaquin pushed hard on his end of blade, trying to nick off his collarbone. Lucas came rushing towards them now recovered from being thrown on the table… Joaquin threw off all his strength to turn his entire body sideways, which in turn put Artie on the side, giving him a chance to stab him just where his neck met his shoulder.

You got up to rush to Lucas, but fell face first feeling a stronghold on your ankle. Turning, you meet a very pissed off looking Nadia with blood covering her face.

She held a Glock, your glock, aiming at you. You kick her in the face, grabbing your knife in the holster. You sit up to stab her in the back, just an inch away from her heart.

So why was it that you felt a sharp jab on your shoulder?

You look at the source, only to see a blade sticking out of your right shoulder. Nadia’s hand being the holder. She looked you right in the eye as she twisted the blade deeper. You grunt, stabbing the woman again and again until she stopped.

Unbearable pain clouded your senses, but Joaquin’s voice brought you back to your senses, turning towards him to see him spar with Lucas, taking punches and pulling ones. You got on your knees to snatch your Glock from Nadia’s dead fingers, keeping an eye on Joaquin.

Blood ran down his elbow from his palm, he staggered on his feet trying to get a jab at Lucas, but found himself covered in his brains once you shot Lucas in the forehead.

You sighed, feeling your tank top getting wet with blood. It felt like an out of body experience, Natasha’s voice echoing somewhere inside your head; “Your brain is in shock trying to process the pain. Get the blade out, press on a cloth and get the hell out of here before one of them wakes up.”

“y/n, look at me.” Joaquin grabbed your face, making you look at him. He glanced at the knife sticking out of your body. “This might hurt.” Saying so he pulled on the blade, prying it off.

You screamed out loud as he pressed hard on your shoulder with a cloth bandage.

How are you lying on the floor?

Joaquin lifted you up like you weighed nothing, “We gotta go. Come on…” resting your head on his shoulder, you try not to pass out looking at the blood running down his face.

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

Seeing double with an open stab wound was never good news. Joaquin’s jacket did enough to hide the blood and bandage on your shoulder, but it was only a matter of time until some keen observer in the hotel lobby looked at you long enough to know you were unwell.

Leaning on the wall next to you, you watched as Joaquin came towards you and wrapped his arm over your shoulder, careful of your wound, he whispers, “you alright?”

“Kinda.” Your words came out slurred.

“Let’s go.” He led you towards your room, and despite knowing there was no chance of you being followed, you still looked over your shoulder.

As soon as the door opened, you limped towards the bed and Joaquin closed the door and the blinds. Taking off your jacket, you made the rookie mistake of taking a glance at yourself in the mirror.

Your hair was unkempt, your tank top’s strap was torn to pieces, the entire right side of your body covered in blood. The open wound right under your collarbone stared back at you through the mirror.

The room suddenly felt too small, the taste of metal heavy on your tongue.

“whoa!” Joaquin grabs your left side before you fall to the floor, his eyes find yours, and it is then you see the hidden fear in his eyes. He acted fine until now, witnessing the amount of damage on your body.

He helps you sit on the bed, and lean back on the headboard while pressing his jacket on your torso before tearing off your straps. Holding out a piece of rolled up fabric, he holds out to your mouth, “you’ll need this.” You’ve been through this before, never on this scale; but you don’t argue with him before biting into it.

The last thing you felt before blacking out was the burning sensation of rubbing alcohol on your skin and Joaquin’s hand holding yours.

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

The smell of spirit lingered in the air, as you were woken up from deep sleep by a gentle voice. Opening your eyes, you see the bedside digital clock showing 02:18, and your eyes travel to Joaquin sitting on a chair next to the bed. His white vest had spots of blood, your blood, on it. His right hand was bandaged poorly, and the cut above his eyebrow had two butterfly tapes.

“You scared me for a while.” He says while gently caressing your forehead.

“What happened?” you groaned, trying to sit up, he placed a pillow behind you as you leaned back on the headboard. You look down at your body to find your tank top gone, and you wore Joaquin’s Air Force T Shirt. You look at him again to see his shoulders slumped with exhaustion, his eyes heavy. He hadn’t slept the entire night.

“You passed out while I was cleaning your wound, I woke you up to give you some medicines, and you fell asleep.”

“I don’t remember that.” You huffed out, looking at the ceiling.

Joaquin holds your hand, and you feel the rough bandage on your skin, “are you alright?” you look at him and his line of vision, which were trained on your hand.

“yeah.” You sit up straighter, and take his hand in yours, “I’m fine Joaquin, hey,” you gently hold his face that makes him look at you, “I promise.” You smile.

You rest his injured hand on your lap and open the bandage to redo it properly. The next few minutes are spent in silence, the occasional honk and sound of passing vehicles outside being the only noise. You take a proper look at his hand after you’re done, and you bring it to your lips to kiss.

Joaquin inhales sharply as your lips touch his fingers, and your eyes lock on his.

“I thought I would lose you today.” He says, his eyes flickering from yours to your lips.

“I ain’t going anywhere Joaquin. I’m right here.” Your voice came out as a whisper, and he held your face in his hands.

He looks into your eyes again, silently asking for your consent, and your reply wordlessly by leaning towards him.

The kiss was gentle.

Joaquin’s lips were featherlight on yours and you closed your eyes to feel him whole. Holding the back of his neck you brought him closer as you fell back on the headboard, and he climbed the bed to hover over you.

You kiss each other slowly, letting go of the fear of losing each other flow through it.

You savor it; the warmth of his body, his breath on your face, his hands on your waist. He continues to kiss you as his hands traveled your body, and you didn’t open your eyes in fear that it was some kind of dream. 

He cautiously pulls you down on the mattress, your back meeting the sheets of your motel bed. Joaquin gets on his knees to take off his vest, tossing it on the floor. Your eyes couldn’t leave his toned torso, and his broad shoulders covered you entirely when he leaned forward, trailing kisses on your neck. The contrast in the touch of both his hands; one bandaged and one not… you closed your eyes yet again to just feel his touch on your skin. You couldn’t breathe by the way he bit your neck, and you arched your back as his hands gathered the t-shirt to roll it up to your ribs.

“We can stop if you want to.” He says in between kisses, and you moan, “no, please… don’t.”

“As you wish…” he says, his breath hot on your neck. He kissed you right in the valley of your breasts, and sucked on your skin.

You locked eyes with him as he carefully removed the t-shirt off of your body, leaving you in only your jeans. You grabbed a fistful of his hair as his lips left open mouthed kisses on your nipples, you heard him moan as he squeezed your breasts, a sound that made you pull on his hair harder, which only made him louder.

Joaquin made quick work on his belt as you quickly removed your jeans, but he clutched your hand halfway, “wait…” stumbling on his words, “uh… you’re hurt… let me…” he held your jeans and you let them go, as he pulled them down your legs and on the floor.

His hands caressed your thighs, and his gaze lingered on your body. The intensity of it made you shiver, but it wasn’t lust you saw in them.

He wanted you, needed you. Recalling the kiss that you shared earlier today; this was the complete opposite of it. This was pure adoration. 

You were his reverence.

While the shadow of his tousled hair masked his forehead, he locked eyes with you. As he lowered his body bringing his face closer to your thighs, you didn’t dare look away. You arched your back as Joaquin’s arms held you down, his muscles flexing as he kissed your inner thigh, and a loud whine left your lips as he tasted you on his tongue. 

He stopped only when your moans turned into screams, and when you looked at him while heaving for breath, he was gasping for air, his pupils blown, but the gaze still gentle.

You locked your legs on his waist before you could stop yourself, and tossed him on the bed. Now he was under you, and you could feel how eager he was as you looked down at his tented boxers.

Joaquin caressed your waist, “take it easy, y/n.” as he shifted his gaze to your injured shoulder.

“Sure.” you breathed out, heart racing, as you lifted yourself up while he removed his boxers. As soon as you touched him to stroke, he fell back on the bed, his brows knit in pleasure. You laughed; watching how he was reacting to your touch.

“Huh… that wasn’t funny, querida.” he huffed, and you gasped as he grabbed your waist to pull himself up.

Joaquin was now inches away from your face, his chest pressed to yours as he locked his arms around your waist. You tried to wrap yours around his neck, but you hissed as a sharp pain shot through your injured shoulder straight to your neck.

“Ow!” you buried your face on the nape of his neck, as he stiffened within you.

“Told you to take it easy.” he whispered as he caressed your hair, “you wanna stop?”

“No,” you whined, lifting your face to look at him, “no… I…” you huffed out, “I want you.”

He exhaled, replying with a warm smile, “okay.”

Joaquin gently held both of your wrists and brought your hands to his face to let you hold on to his neck, and you gladly did. He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, and closed his eyes before leaving a kiss on your lips. He pulled you closer as you lowered yourself on him, moaning in each other’s mouths. As you moved, he kept on kissing you. 

Your pace increased as you felt his heartbeat on your skin, his hands grabbing your back. He kissed your face as you lifted your chin, leaving trails on your face and reaching your neck, but you grabbed his hair, pulling him back and exposing his neck to you. Sucking on his neck, you hugged him back, the sharp jab on your shoulder now least of your worries. He pushed into you as you continued to suck and bite his skin wherever you could. He tried his best not to pull your hair, but failed as he grabbed a handful by the end only to bring you closer.

Fighting for air, you kissed him on his mouth… stroking him even after he came inside you.

Joaquin fell back on the bed, bringing you into his arms; exhausted, spent, the two of you fighting for breath. 

You shifted to your uninjured side and you held him while resting your head on his chest; groaning, he adjusted himself so you could lay your head in his arms and stroked your hair,

Both you and Joaquin couldn’t tear your eyes away from each other. He was a sight to behold—his unruly hair sticking to his forehead, his face flushed, and the marks you left on his skin gradually shifting in color.

“You good?” he whispers, his fingers gently tracing the curve of your bare back.

“Yeah. You?” you murmur, feeling the weight of sleep beginning to settle in.

A chuckle bubbles in his throat, and you can't help but smirk when he slaps a hand over his eyes, letting out a soft laugh.

“Penny for your thoughts?” you tease, poking his cheek.

“You are…” he sighs, his voice serious but amused. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but you’re really skilled with what you did earlier.”

You raise an eyebrow, unable to suppress a giggle. “You mean the way I body-slammed a Flag Smasher? Or are you talking about…”

“Uh…” He glances up at the ceiling, and you swear you see him blush. “Both.”

You both burst into laughter, and he pulls the covers over you, tucking you close to him. As your eyes meet, your heart skips a beat when his fingers trail over your bare back once more.

“Can’t we stay like this forever?” he asks, his voice soft. “This feels like a dream.”

“It’s real.” You reach up, your fingers gently brushing the cut over his eye. “And even if it is a dream, it’s the best one I’ve ever had.”

His gaze softens at your words, and with a gentle kiss to your forehead, he confesses, “Stay right here, will you?”

You nod, your voice a quiet whisper. “Yes.”

And with that, you slip into a peaceful, dreamless sleep.

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

Three Weeks Later, Wilson Residence

Karli was dead, the Flag Smashers were wiped out in a mysterious blast (which Zemo swore he had no part in), and John Walker had vanished off the radar. Sam was now Captain America. You and Joaquin had managed to sit that one out due to injuries, and life—relatively speaking—was almost back to normal.

The last three weeks had been the most peaceful stretch you’d had since the Thanos attack in New York. After a brief visit to Sarah’s newly renovated house—where Sam had to fight you off when you offered to pay for everything—you and Joaquin were finally heading to Arizona. He was finally going to take you to see the Canyons, a promise he’d made all the way back in that attic you two had shared.

It was night now, the kids were asleep, but the dinner table in the Wilson residence was anything but quiet, as Sam and Bucky were recounting the first time they met Spiderman.

“…and we got this kid climbing on the roof, he slams Bucky onto the floor, and screams out something about impressing Tony…”

“…and then he webs you to the escalator…” Bucky grumbles in-between.

“…I was getting to that! Anyways, I let redwing take care of the rest and send him flying through the airport and dump him midair. Ha!” Sam laughs, waiting for a reaction.

Sarah leans forward, utterly bewildered, “So you dropped a kid midair because he webbed you to an escalator?”

Bucky stops her with a laugh, “In our defense, he was on the opposite team!”

You couldn't help teasing him, “Still, you attacked a kid.”

Sam threw a baby carrot at you. “Okay, okay! Stop throwing food, Sam. What are you, five?”

Sam was about to throw another one at youtube bucky grabbed the baby carrots bowl and passed it to sarah, who gladly put it out of his reach.

You shifted your attention to Joaquin, who was looking at the whole ordeal trying not to laugh. The cut above his eye had almost healed, only a faint trail of new skin the only sign that there ever was any injury. 

“We have something to tell you guys,” Joaquin said, his voice a little too casual for the tension in the air. He reached under the table to take your hand, his thumb brushing over your skin.

You squeezed his hand in return, giving him a warm smile before you turned to look at Sam, Bucky, and Sarah.

Joaquin looked at you, the corners of his mouth lifting slightly, and then he said it: “Y/N and I are dating.”

The table went silent for a second, and then Sarah’s face lit up, her eyes sparkling. “Oh my god, I’m so happy for you both!”

Sam laughed loudly, throwing his head back, while Bucky froze, fork halfway to his mouth.

Bucky stared at the two of you in disbelief, his fork clicking loudly as it dropped to his plate. “Wait a minute... how long has this been going on?”

You winced. “About three weeks, maybe?”

Bucky groaned as he leaned back in his chair. “Three weeks? So, you’ve been hiding this from us?”

Joaquin shifted nervously in his seat. “Yeah, about that.”

“I swear, if you hurt Y/N—” Bucky's voice turned deadly serious, his Vibranium arm rising as he pointed it at Joaquin. “I’ll make sure you regret it.”

Joaquin quickly held up his hands. “I would never—”

“Good.” Bucky nodded, satisfied. “Just making sure, You two gross me out.” Bucky side eyes you as you respond by leaving a loud smooch on Joaquin’s cheek.

“Yeah, I’m gonna throw up.” Bucky grimaces and gets up from the table with his beer.

“Get outta here old man.” You scream, all in playfulness as he slams the porch door. Bucky had a knick of theatrics, and you knew deep down he was happy for you.

“He didn’t mean that, Buck’s a secret romantic and I bet you ten bucks he’s crying happy tears on the back porch.” Sam tells you both as you begin to clear out the table.

“I know.” You laugh, helping Joaquin with the dishes.

As Sarah and Sam left for their rooms, you and Joaquin took over cleaning the kitchen. The house fell into a quiet rhythm, the only sound the soft hum of the water running in the sink as you both washed the dishes.

“That went well,” Joaquin said, nudging your shoulder as you stacked the plates in the drying rack.

“Don’t worry, Sam and Sarah adore you. Bucky does too, he’s just... well, too stubborn to show it.” You rolled your eyes, feeling his hands wrap around your waist from behind, pulling you close.

He kissed your neck lightly as you finished stacking the last of the plates. “That was the last one,” you said, leaning back into him, letting yourself enjoy the closeness.

“Mmm-hmm...” You smirked, resting your hands on his as he tightened his grip around your waist.

“Everyone’s asleep,” he whispered, his lips brushing the back of your ear.

“I know,” you murmured, leaning back further into his chest. You could feel the warmth of his body against yours, his breath soft in your ear.

“Can we take this to the bedroom?” he grumbled, his voice low and inviting as he hugged you tighter.

You chuckled, glancing over your shoulder. “We’re sleeping on the couch, babe.”

His hands moved slowly to your hips as he nuzzled your neck, “Wanna take this to the couch then?” His playful tone was backed by the softest puppy eyes you’d ever seen.

Before you could even consider it, footsteps echoed down the hallway.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake!” Bucky’s voice rocked through the silence, causing both you and Joaquin to spring apart. You quickly went back to acting busy with the already stacked plates, trying to look as innocent as possible.

Bucky sighed loudly, his eyes toward the ceiling. “Please, for the love of god, tell me you two weren’t... doing that in Sarah’s kitchen.”

Joaquin let out a nervous, “...no.” His face flushed, making you stifle a laugh.

Bucky groaned, rubbing his temples. “I swear, you two...”

“Bucky,” you said, turning toward him with a teasing smile. “Were you crying?”

His eyes went wide, and he immediately shot you a glare. “No. I’m just... tired.” He slumped his shoulders dramatically. “And I’m taking the couch.”

He threw up his hands in exasperation. “You two can take the mattress on the floor. But if I hear so much as a whisper from either of you, I’ll kick you out myself.”

With that, he stormed off, muttering under his breath.

You turned to Joaquin, fighting back a grin. His face was bright red, and his embarrassment was almost too adorable to handle. “Looks like we have to wait until we’re in Arizona,” you said with a sympathetic swat to his arm.

Joaquin groaned, “You know, I’m starting to think Bucky’s secretly shipping us.”

You shot him a wink as you walked out of the kitchen, “He’s just really protective. Come on.”

You patted his arm sympathetically, but then, with a mischievous grin, said, “What about the attic?”

Joaquin raised an eyebrow. “You’re kidding.”

You opened your mouth to say yes, as your heart raced just by remembering his touch on your skin, but before you could, Bucky’s voice shouted from the other room.

“I swear to god, I will get a restraining order against the two of you! Don’t even think about it!”

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A/N - Thank you everyone for sticking with me till the end of this fic! if you liked it please let me know through the asks and the comments. Love y'all, Take Care!