#or i can say to him ''i'm gonna lose it!'' in a half joking tone and he immediately knows exactly what kind of assistance i need

[borgeslabyrinth]

My thing is on really bad work days, writing upset texts to my direct manager about something that happens when he's not there. Not wanting to bother him on his day off, so scheduling the text for the next time he works. Sometimes scheduling multiple texts if I'm really upset. And then getting off shift and deleting them. Microdosing on complaining.

[starlightvld]

Up in Smoke

(Also on AO3)

The first time Ghost rips the cigarette from Soap's mouth, drops it on the ground, and stomps on it as he passes by, Soap is too stunned to say anything for a full ten seconds. They've only been working together consistently for a couple of missions, and even as his superior officer, the audacity of the action floors him.

By the time his brain restarts, Ghost is long gone.

--

The second time Ghost steals Soap's cigarette, he bursts out in a string of Scottish curses and tackles Ghost from behind before the wanker can drop it on the ground. An impromptu sparring match ensues, fists and curses flying. 

Afterward, he doesn't feel much like a cigarette anymore — not with the split lip, anyway. Besides, the buzzing under his skin that usually drives him to smoke is just... gone.

Price catches wind of the incident, of course, and calls them into his office a few hours later. By that time Soap has calmed down enough to be... maybe not okay with it, but at least able to see the humor. 

"What's this about you muppets scuffling by the smoking area?"

"Just a little sparring to blow off steam," Soap says.

"Ghost?"

"Nothin' to worry about, Captain."

"No? I've got one soldier who looks like he just got back from a bar fight, and the other..." He squints at Ghost. "He get a hit in on you, too?"

"Yeah," Ghost replies in that deadpan tone of his. "Coupla black eyes."

It's a joke. 

Ghost is telling a joke. And it's objectively not funny. It's not. But Soap bursts into hysterical laughter all the same. 

The corners of Ghost's blacked-out eyes crinkle. 

Price rubs his temples before dropping his hand on his desk. Soap presses his lips together to contain his laughter.

"Sparring happens in the gym. I'm sure you know the place. It's where we have things like mats and gloves. I catch you two bare-knuckle fighting again, and you will regret it."

And it's enough to sober Soap up. He avoids Ghost as he ducks away to catch dinner.

--

The third time... well, no. He supposes that's really the fourth time. 

Because the actual third time, Soap had come back from a shit mission where everything went wrong. Intel was faulty, exfil was delayed, and people under his command died. It didn't happen as often in SAS as it had in the regulars — the soldiers here were well-trained and hard to kill — but that made it all the worse. 

When Ghost tried to pluck the cigarette from his mouth, Soap growled. 

"Back the fuck up, Lt. Or Price is gonna be disappointed in both of us."

Ghost paused, and their eyes met. Slowly, Ghost lowered his hand. 

"Wanna talk about it?"

"Fuck no."

"Thank God."

Soap didn't have it in him to even huff a laugh. He took a long drag and blew the smoke away from Ghost as a peace offering.

To his surprise, Ghost didn't leave. He spun around and leaned against the wall with his arms crossed. They stood there together, utterly silent, as Soap let the heat and sting in his lungs soothe the beast inside that wanted to rip the world apart.

When he was done, though, he was surprised to find he didn't want another. Usually after shit missions, he'd stand there and smoke half a pack before his hands would stop shaking.

He finally met Ghost's eyes. The man quirked a barely visible brow.

"S'pose we should take it to the mats this time?"

Ghost pushed off the building and started walking. Soap followed like a lost child looking for a way home. 

--

The fourth time is in Chicago. His hands are shaking not from losing soldiers but from almost losing his own life. The cigarette trembles in his grip as he stands outside the bar, the biting wind turning his fingers and probably his lips blue. He lifts it to his mouth, inhaling deep—

And then it's gone.

The whine that bubbles up from his gut and bursts from his throat is nothing short of humiliating. But God. God. He needs it.

"Not now. Please, Ghost."

"Why?"

Ghost hasn't thrown the cigarette down. Yet. He cocks his head to the side and gives Soap a long look. Soap can only tremble from the cold and a need that goes deeper than a simple hit of nicotine.

"I just... I need it."

The cigarette drops to the ground, but Soap doesn't have time to lament the loss before that same hand is curling around Soap's neck and pulling him into a fucking massive chest. The other arm comes around Soap's shoulders and...

Ghost just stands there, holding him. And Soap can't help melting into the warmth and solidity of the man who saved his life just hours ago. He dares to curl in deeper. To raise his hands and clutch at Ghost's jacket. To let a few, silent tears escape his tight control.

Finally, his muscles relax. Ghost must feel it, because he turns and leads Soap back toward the bar.

"Why do ye even care?" Soap mumbles from his spot tucked into Ghost's side.

"Because those things'll kill ya."

Soap supposes the "I like you alive" is implied at this point.

--

Soap loses count after Chicago. He gets stretches of days when Ghost is on a solo op or out with one of the other operators when he can smoke in peace. So he does.

At first.

He's been hooked since he was a rebellious teen trying to make his mark on the world. He's tried to quit multiple times, but it never seems to stick. The first bad mission or adrenaline-filled near miss and he's back at whatever smoking spot he can find, puffing away.

He finds himself trying to cut back, though, even when Ghost is away.

Any time Ghost is on base, all bets are off. In addition to darting by and making a grab for it or sneaking up behind him and flicking it out of his hands, Ghost has gotten more creative. Sometimes Soap will pull out a cigarette only to find he's "lost" his lighter. Sometimes the cigarettes themselves go missing — he clutches his chest and mourns all that wasted money whenever a whole pack disappears. 

He supposes it's all just going up in smoke anyway, though.

He should be angry. But in truth, it's almost a relief to hand over the reins to Ghost. To let the man help him by annoying the shit out of him until he wants to give up on it entirely.

Which is definitely the point. Ghost has made that perfectly clear.

So, whenever he gets the urge to calm his racing thoughts or overactive mind with a cigarette, he finds Ghost and annoys him instead. They talk, or spar, or simply sit in silence together, doing their own thing. Ghost doesn't often touch him — their moment in Chicago is still the closest Soap's ever gotten to the elusive Ghost — but he also doesn't push Soap away when he slumps into Ghost's side after a hard day or leans over his back when he's sitting at the table in the 141's common area on base.

The urge doesn't go away, of course. And sometimes, when things get really bad, Ghost will just sit or stand with him like he did the third time. Still, he finds himself smoking less and hanging out with Ghost more.

--

The last time Ghost steals a cigarette from Soap, he simply stands beside Soap and holds out his hand. Soap immediately knows something has gone terribly wrong. Still, he's too invested in the game now to not hand the cigarette over.

He nearly keels over when Ghost pulls up his mask and takes a long, hard drag. Soap watches in fascination as his cheeks hollow, his neck muscles strain, his lips curve around the paper. It's erotic in a way he really shouldn't be thinking about in regards to his emotionally unavailable superior officer, but the knowledge hasn't stopped him yet. Since that day in Chicago — probably before if he's honest — he's only ever wanted to be closer.

Ghost coughs a little and hands the cigarette back.

"Fuck. Just as disgusting as I remember."

"Ye used to smoke, then?"

"Before I joined up, yeah. Hated it, though."

"The smell? Or—"

"Everything. The taste, the smell, the heat..." Ghost trails off, his hand rubbing over his bicep in a strangely specific way. He shakes his head and looks back at Soap. "Not your problem, Johnny. Forget about it."

Soap's hand is darting out, fingers curling into Ghost's jacket, before he's properly thought through the action. Ghost pauses before turning back. They stare in silence for a moment until—

Soap stubs out the half-burned cigarette and drops the butt in the trash. He licks his lips. Glances up at Ghost. The mask is still sitting on his nose, and Soap stares at his lips for longer than he should before pulling the pack out of his pocket and throwing it in the trash, too.

"Cannae have ye thinking I stink, can I?"

"Too late."

But Ghost's throat bobs with a hard swallow. Soap wets his lips, takes a step closer, and uncurls his fingers to slide his hand up Ghost's chest until his fingertips are resting on Ghost's shirt collar.

"I dinnae think it is."

Ghost turns and walks away. Soap closes his eyes and drops his hand, internally cursing his impulsive behavior. The scuffing of boots walking away from him is like nails on a chalk board.

Until they stop, and a gruff voice calls out, "You comin'?"

A slow smile slides across Soap's mouth. "No' yet."

A huff — exasperation? laughter? a bit of both? — before, "Better get movin' then."

And Soap has never been more glad to follow an order.

[blackmoonowl]

Prompt 8 with MacCready

"I miss moments like this more than anything."

Robert Joseph MacCready x reader

Just fluffy lazy morning stuff. A little short because my college started again today and I am already ready for next summer break.

Warning for some big sad.

MacCready's calloused fingers carded through your hair.

The mercenary were just getting used to the sunlight shining through the broken window in the early morning, warming his face. His lips were pressed against your temple, his eyes closed. A soft grunt escaped him as he felt you shift against him. His hand slid down to your side, pressing you closer against his own body.

"Relax, we got time," he grumbled as he held you closer to his side. "We've been on the road for ages." MacCready admired the way your soft skin felt under his rough, calloused palms.

"Not going out for a job?" you teased, patting his stomach which earned a grunt from him. "Where are you gonna get your beloved caps from, then?" MacCready rolled his eyes a bit as he gently smacked your hip.

"Shut up," the mercenary grumbled, burying his face against the side of your face. A snicker left your lips as you placed your arm lazily over his torso. "I can think of somethin' other than caps as well." You felt his lips curl up against your cheek, pressing a kiss to your skin. "Like the absolute knock-out laying next to me."

"God, could you be any more cheesy?" You let out a half embarrassed laugh, causing his grin to only grow wider.

"What can I say? I'm a charmer." MacCready boasted, his hand caressing your side. "It got you to date me, that should count for something, right?"

"You know, we have to get up eventually," you replied, rubbing at a filthy spot on his skin with your thumb.

"The world won't end if we take a few extra hours off," MacCready insisted, shifting onto his side. His arm went around your waist to pull your chest against his.

"I'm pretty sure we're already there," you solemnly joked, causing him to sigh.

"Way to kill the mood." His eyes trailed over your body and the old sheets loosely tangled around you both. He couldn't remember the last time he felt this relaxed. It reminded him of better days, his eyes flashing with brief sadness as he let a silence fall over the two of you before he spoke in a softer tone.

"I miss moments like this more than anything."

Your gaze turned more sympathetic as you noticed the shift in tone from your lover. One of your hands went to cup his cheek, coaxing him to meet your eyes.

"Laying like this... not a care in the world," he murmured as his thumb stroked your bare hip. There was something behind his gaze, a world of hurt finally coming through as he felt at ease. "I missed it."

"Is everything okay?" Your question caused his expression to become even more sad. His grip on you tightened, as if he were trying to pull you even closer, even with the two of you already closely pressed against each other.

"I just.. I never expected I could have something like this again, I really don't deserve you," his eyes refused to meet yours, looking everywhere but you. "I don't know if it's just your bad decision making or if I'm just lucky, but I'm glad you're here. It feels like everything is going well for me again." MacCready finally gathered himself enough to glance at you.

"I don't think I could handle losing you as well," he softly admitted, his voice cracking.

"How long has this been on your mind?" You questioned, your hand coming to stroke his hair.

"A while, I already failed her, what if I fail you as well?" The mercenary fought back tear as you rubbed his neck, pulling him into a hug.

"You didn't fail anyone, and I'm still here, I always will be," you assured him, causing him to let out a deep, shaky breath.

"Thanks... that means a lot.." he trailed off, closing his eyes again. "Can.. can we stay like this a bit longer? I'm not ready to go out yet."

A small smile played on your lips as you pressed them against his forehead.

"Of course."

[talaok]

Chapter two: Light

Pairing: No-outbreak!Joel x married!reader

Series summary: You moved to Austin Texas with your husband due to his job, but your already troubled marriage is about to get more complicated when the contractor remodeling your home, Joel Miller, will enter both of your lives.

Chapter summary: You meet your new contractor for the first time, and he's not how you had expected

Previous chapter | next chapter

It was only the second day of waking up in this house, but you were already more used to the routine.

Alarm, shower, breakfast, a kiss, a goodbye.

Easy, it was easy.

Today was the kitchen. All the boxes were piled on the white wall next to the entrance. They seemed so many you actually wondered for a moment how you were gonna manage that, but a part of you was actually grateful you had something to do to keep your mind occupied, from what you didn't know, but still.

Before starting to do that, however, you had a more important thing to get to.

"Hi" 

You laughed "Why are you whispering?"

"My boss is in today"

"so?"

"so he can't see that I'm on the phone during company time"

You snorted

"Yeah you laugh, but if he catches me and fires me, you're the one who's gonna have to take me into your home"

"that wouldn't be so bad actually"

"yeah, actually you're right" Claire sighed, "wait a second, I'll just put you on speakerphone so he can hear you"

"perfect" 

You both laughed

"So?" she asked after a moment

"so what?"

"how's it going there? How's Texas, tell me everything!"

A strange smile pulled at your lips "There's really not much to say. It's hotter than hell here, the house is huge, and it's gonna take me an eternity to unpack everything" you summed up

"Richard isn't helping you? What am I saying, of course he isn't"

"He has to work Claire"

"oh right, Richard and his work... wouldn't want to get between that marriage"

"Claire-" you rolled your eyes "let's not do this right now, ok? I want to know about you, about what I missed"

"about me? Well..."

"oh no I know that tone please tell me it's not what I think it is"

"I can lie if you want"

"oh my god, Claire!" you half shouted in the empty kitchen "I'm gone two days and you already go back to him!?"

"calm down alright, it was just a one-time thing, it was late at night and I had just finished watching How to Lose a Guy in ten days, and you know what Matthew McConaughey does to me..."

"ok, gross" You stopped her before she could get any further "Why? Why him, why Dylan, you could do so much better than him"

She huffed, "I know I know, it's the last time I promise"

"you promised the same thing last time too" you reminded her

"I know, but this time I mean it"

"you better," you threatened 

There was a brief pause as you heard her move, probably to get further from her boss.

"God I miss you already y/n, I don't know how I'll survive without you"

"I miss you too" you smiled "But it's not like I'm dead, we can still talk on the phone, and I'll come visit you as soon as I can"

"You promise?" you could feel the pout on her lips

"I promise you and hey if-"

The ding of your doorbell caught you off guard

"what?" Claire asked

"Oh shit, I forgot the contractor was coming" you realized, after your mind finally decided to unblank itself

"See, you're already too busy for me"

"shut up" you laughed "I'll call you back when he leaves. love you"

"fine" she sighed "I love you too"

"bye"

As soon as you hung up and placed your phone on the counter, the doorbell rang once more.

One minute, God! 

You rushed to the front door, not even asking who it was before opening it.

"Sorry for the wait, I was just- I was in the middle of something" you mumbled quickly

"It seems like I always manage to catch you at the wrong time ma'am" The man before you joked as your eyes finally settled on him.

Oh, 

For some reason, from your brief talk on the phone, you had pictured a 50-something-year-old with gray hair and a beer belly, definitely, definitely not this.

He looked as if the world broad had come to life. He was tall, and the navy-blue shirt hugging his body highlighted his muscles, muscles one builds from hours of manual labor, not at the gym.

His nut-brown hair was what one could describe as an organized mess, like he forgot to brush them this morning but tried to fix them with his fingers as he was making his way here.

His eyes were big, gentle, a pool of hazel one could find themself drowning in easily enough, you included.

And his lips- his lips had twitched into a smile that was more of a grin, as he- oh god- as he watched you study every inch of him.

"Sorry!" you said a bit too loudly "I wasn't checking you out I just- I had pictured you differently" you spat out, immidately regretting it.

Why the fuck did you just say that?

His chest rumbled as he chuckled " Differently how?"

"oh my god," you couldn't help but laugh through the embarrassment "Please forget I ever said anything, could- could we start all over again?"

"gladly" he nodded

"ok, thank you" You took a quick breath of relief and held your hand out to him "It's a pleasure to meet you, I'm y/n"

"pleasure 's all mine" he shook your hand as you finally noticed the sweet drawl of his accent "I'm Joel"

"good" you smiled "and before I forget, please don't call me ma'am ever again Joel, it makes me feel like I've aged twenty years in 20 seconds" 

Again, a soft laugh fled his throat "Will do" he nodded obediently.

"ok, then please" You fully opened the door to him "Come on in"

He wiped his shoes on the doormat before obliging, and you closed the door behind him.

"You have a nice house ma'a-" he cleared his throat "y/n, you have a very nice house"

you stifled a laugh at his clear struggle "Thank you. We've only arrived the day before yesterday, so it's still pretty empty"

You explained as you walked towards the staircase.

"Certainly not of books" he stopped in the middle of the living room, "wow" he exhaled "I take it you and your husband read a lot?"

The smile that rose on your lips was more of a reflex, not a voluntary decision.

"Some are his" you said "but they're mostly my doing"

He glanced at you as if you'd just confessed to being a witch before looking back at the wooden shelves filling the entire wall across from the tv, only stopping to make space for the couch.

"well I'll be damned" he chuckled

"I take it you don't read a lot?" you smiled

"I think the last time I read something my daughter was 8 and wanted to hear a bedtime story"

You couldn't hide your stupor "You have a daughter?"

"oh-yeah," he said, finally tearing his gaze off the wall and back to you "Sarah, that's her name"

"It's a pretty name" You nodded, the upward curve of your lips lingering

"Thank you, you should tell her that" he laughed "She's always complaining about how "basic" it is"

"Well she's not exactly wrong," You said before you could stop yourself 

"oh no, not you too, please" he ran a hand through his hair as if exasperated, and you chuckled.

"I'm sorry" You shook your head, amusement still tracing your words "If I ever meet her, I'll be sure to tell her the opposite"

"yes, please" he joked "You'd make my life a hell of a lot easier"

"consider it done then" 

Beat.

Silence fell for a moment, but neither of you ceased looking at the other.

"well" you clapped your hands together "The room I talked to you on the phone about is upstairs"

"right" he cleared his throat "lead the way"

__  __  __

"Can I offer you anything while... you do your thing?"

He smiled "I'm ok, thank you"

"You sure? Not even water? It's like a million degrees out" you continued, as he grabbed something from his tool belt

"Actually you're right, water sounds good"

"great" you beamed "I'll be right back"

It took you a moment to find your feet and will them to move.

You didn't know what was happening.

Maybe you hadn't talked to another human being outside of your bubble for so long that you just weren't used to it anymore, or maybe you had just started to lose your fucking mind, because as you walked downstairs and into the kitchen a weird, weird feeling consumed your entire being.

And what made it weirder was that it wasn't a bad feeling... no, it was like going on a carousel for the first time, like riding a bike without anybody's help and feeling the wind through your hair... you felt light, lighter than a feather. And all of it because you had a conversation with your contractor.

Either you were pathetic or crazy, but something definitely wasn't right.

"here" you hended Joel the glass

"thank you" he nodded politely, before drinking it in one go.

You snorted "I guess the weather still affects you even if you've lived here your whole life"

"It sure does, I never got used to it" he shook his head, "it's a miracle I'm still alive really"

You chuckled

"Where are you from? If you don't mind me asking"

"oh" you breathed "New York"

A sly grin tugged at his lips "The big apple... isn't summer there hot as hell too?"

"yeah, but not like this" you gestured vaguely into the air "This is torture"

He laughed "I'd like to say you're wrong but I kinda agree," he said "So what brings you here to this torture chamber?"

"My husband's work. He had to transfer here"

"ah..." he hummed "Of course"

He watched you for a moment, and you felt weirdly self-conscious

"that mustn't been easy... leaving your life like that"

he took you by surprise

"I-"

"Shit, sorry if I made you unco-"

"no,no" you cut him off, biting down a smile as you noticed the worry on his face.

God, he's so...

 "It's totally ok" you paused "and you're right, it wasn't easy, it- it still isn't really... but it just was the sort of thing where I had to, y'know?"

"right" he nodded "And how are you liking it here?"

"It's nice, Austin is a beautiful city"

"it is"

"And you know... I'm gonna sound stupid, but I'm nervous about meeting new people, and making new friends- it's just- it's been so long that I'm afraid I don't even remember how"

He raised an eyebrow as if he didn't believe you, as if you'd just told a joke.

"you?"

"yeah me"

"I don't think you need to worry 'bout that, you..." he paused, as if just remembering where he was and what he was doing "Well for starters, you've already met me, and I like you so..."

If you could, you would have smacked the blush creeping up your cheeks right off.

"Well, I'm flattered" You tried to play it cool, pretending you hadn't suddenly turned 13 all over again.

"Yeah, I think you'll do just fine" he smiled, and that's when you noticed for the first time just how beautiful of a smile he had, so reassuring, so kind, so... light.

This man's wife is a really lucky woman, You found yourself thinking before you could stop yourself.

You bit down what you were sure was gonna be a grin from ear to ear.

"well I'm done here" he looked around the room one final time

"oh, already?"

"I wish I could spend more time here too, you're much more pleasant than most of my clients, but unfortunately, today I just really needed to have a look around"

"right," you nodded "So when can you start?"

"umh" he scratched the back of his neck as he thought, "I think next Monday we should be ready"

__  __  __

"thank you for everything," you said, as you opened the door

"I didn't really do much" he grinned

You shrugged "Yeah, but you were nice to talk to"

"Well for what it's worth, you too y/n"

Your name sounded awfully good on his tongue.

You smiled as he walked out.

"See you Monday, then"

"Umh, wait-"

"yes?" you frowned, watching something like conflict transpire behind his eyes

"This is my number... You can call me if you-" he stopped a moment to clear his throat "if you need anything"

"oh- I already saved the one you called me with yesterday"

"That" he scratched his beard, "That was my work number, this is my private one, I don't always answer on the other one"

"oh" you breathed once again "Oh well, thank you" you smiled, taking the card he was holding out and watching as something that looked like worry melted right off his face.

"no problem" he looked at you one more time "See you Monday then"

"bye"

For some reason, even as you closed the door behind you, the smile on your lips didn't seem to want to go away.

What was happening to you?

…

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...

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[watchoutforthefanfics]

achievement unlocked 🔓 (part fifteen) || Streamer AU! Reddie (IT)

Part 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14

AVAILABLE ON AO3

Inspiration: this prompt + BIRDS OF A FEATHER by Billie Eilish

Summary: Richie liked to play video games, and by some stroke of luck, it became his job. Being primarily known as Trashmouth on stream, he found his own little group of streamer friends and they became intertwined: The Losers Club. It never did feel quite complete, though. Well, until, he got his very own backseat gamer in chat.

TWs: cursing, and shameless flirting.

[[A/N: I listened exclusively to BIRDS OF A FEATHER writing this. So, you know it's gonna be good. Short but incredibly sweet, next one will be long to make up for it. Enjoy :))]]

Richie was fidgeting -fingers tapping along the wheel. He was pretty sure if he was driving a car, he'd be tapping his foot like a fucking mad man -shaking shit, probably.

Why, you may ask? Because Richie had 2 hours. He was on the 6th day, and he was 2 hours away from Eddie Kaspbrak. 2 hours, 2 fucking hours. From Eddie, his Eddie. Eds-

"Richie?" Bev's voice rattled through the radio, "-Did I lose you?"

Richie blinked -solidly once, "Sorry, it's just. Um, two hours, and then... and then, fucking Eddie. I get Eddie."

"Trashmouth Tozier speechless," Bev laughed, "-never thought I'd see the day."

"I just-" Richie motioned wildly (Bev could not see it), "-Eddie, its fucking Eddie. He's been so far away and now he's... Now he's 2 hours away. That's so-"

"Unbelievable, intangible," Bev listed, laughing still (maybe a little excited herself), "-Take your pick."

"Like, fuck," Richie laughed, "-Eddie's right there. Eddie's there, I'm gonna fucking see him with my own two eyes. And he's gonna... I can... Fuck, dude."

Everything was starting to fade into city, and Richie felt nerves and just fucking... elation crawl under his skin. God, seriously? Eddie? He was getting fucking Eddie? Eddie was coming back with him-

"I'm so fucking happy for you, Rich," Bev spoke, smiling (Richie could somehow hear it) and something in her tone scratchy, "-So fucking happy, you deserve this. You really fucking do."

"Are you crying, Red?"

"Yeah, of course, you're getting Eddie," Bev laughed -wetly, "-Both of you are gonna be so happy, and I love both of you and... Shit, Richie, you're gonna have Eddie."

"I'm gonna have Eddie," Richie repeated, laughing and crying a little bit, heart skipping a beat, "-God, Marsh, I'm gonna have Eddie."

"Fuck yeah, you are," she echoed, laughing but most definitely still teary.

"Fuck yeah, I am," Richie repeated -smiling big and bright.

Bev stayed on for a little longer, but pretty soon after (probably an hour and a half). The call switched over, naturally.

"Can you see the buildings yet?" Eddie asked, genuinely.

Richie could, in fact, they were a little in the distance but he could still see them. And fucking Eddie was in one of them, Eddie. His Eddie. His Eds. God. Richie thought his hands might've been shaking against the wheel.

"Yep," Richie popped the 'p', less quippy for understandable reasons, "-shiny metal on the horizon, Eds."

Eddie seemed fidgety too, words a little smiley (twinkly, if Richie had to truly describe it), "You have my apartment building in your GPS, right?"

"Just like you said," Richie confirmed.

"There's a parking garage nearby," Eddie quickly added, "-The prices are fucking insane by the hour, but it's close. So, you can... You can park there, if you don't mind a walk-"

"Eddie baby, I just made a 43-hour, six-day trip for you," Richie laughed, "-I can handle walking a few blocks."

"Fuck me for being considerate," Eddie snapped back, but in an antsy kind of way (Richie knew all the Eddie-isms, what can he say?), "-I'm fucking locking you out."

"Jokes on you, Eds," Richie pointed out, "-I'll sleep in the hallway. And I know you'll have to leave at some point so-"

"Ew, no," Eddie interrupted, nose shriveled up, "-the floors are fucking disgusting. You can't do that."

"Well," Richie laughed, "-what do you want me to do? Drive all the way back to sleep at my apartment? 43 hours straight-"

"Shut up, asshole," Eddie chimed back, laughing, "-and fucking get here."

And then, he was in the city. Big tall buildings stretching through his eyesight, yellow taxis peeking through the traffic, Richie felt for a second like he was in a movie. Why had he never been here?

It was like California in some ways, and entirely different in others.

The traffic was slow enough that his eyes shot along the crowds shoved along the sidewalk, different shopping bags in the crook of their arms. Hotdog vendors, food stands, cafés, all pushed together like someone had done it with their hands. Richie may have a tourist mindset, but he honestly thought it was all pretty sick. A weird new vibe that Richie believed wouldn't be great for long periods of time, but great for maybe a few days.

"Where are you?" Eddie asked, almost giddily.

"Fuck if I know, Eds," Richie smiled, peeking at his phone, "-GPS says like 5 minutes."

"That's definitely not including shitty traffic," Eddie remarked, "-What do you see? Maybe I can gauge where you are."

"Um," Richie tapped along his steering wheel, "-I see... Shit, there's so much, Eds, how do I pick?"

"You're so fucking useless sometimes," Eddie muttered out, "-just follow the GPS. When you see the building, there's like a red one and then the parking garage. So, just go there."

"Okay," Richie took a deep breath, eyes lingering on everything as the traffic crawled -he wasn't even hitting 5 mph at the moment, "-okay. Building, red, parking garage. Got it."

The minutes felt excruciating. Neither Eddie nor Richie saying a word, the silence sparkling with just anxious energy. If he wasn't driving, he'd probably shake his hands out a few times.

"Your destination is on your left."

Richie's eyes shot to the left and landed on a shorter-than-expected building -assumedly made of old brick. There was a little graffiti on the side, colorful but that's all he could really see. Quickly, he moved to look beside it, eyeing the small red building (maybe a clothing store? He couldn't tell.), and then a little bit forward, a parking garage, the parking garage.

"I've got eyes on the parking garage, Spaghetti. Over," Richie spoke, interrupting the silence -talking like he was speaking through a walkie-talkie.

"Shit, okay," Eddie seemed to scamper to his feet, "-just go park, and um, fuck. Remember my room number, 302. And oh! Bring your shit in, we're staying here at least a night."

"302," Richie repeated, and took the turn off into the parking garage, "-okay. And by my shit, you mean my singular bag, yeah?"

"If that's what you packed, idiot," Eddie laughed a little.

"Yeah, yeah," Richie dismissed, paying and then pulling into the next available spot -which ended up being on the 3rd floor.

He let out a breath, shaking his hands once.

"Do you wanna stay on the phone, or...?"

Eddie answered, "No, I think... You need to focus on getting here. And I don't want you to drop your phone because people are assholes and will shove into you-"

"Okay, Eddie baby, relax," Richie laughed, pulling his bag up on his shoulder, "-I'm gonna be fine."

"Yeah," Eddie let out a breath, "-Okay, well, see you in a few minutes."

Richie grinned, heart flipping in his chest, "See you in a few minutes, Eds."

"Fuck, okay, yeah," Eddie scrambled for a second, before saying -abruptly, "-Bye."

And then, he heard the dial tone.

Richie laughed a little, shoving his phone into his pocket and pulling himself out of the car. After locking it, three times (Eddie had emphasized that), he wandered out onto the pavement. Decidedly, he took the stairs. And okay, maybe he was running a little. So what? No one could see him. Plus, there was a line for the elevator. And Richie wasn't waiting one more fucking second-

Finally, he was on the streets of New York City.

Richie blinked, watching people scattered around the sidewalk. Some stopped, impolitely, some moving so fast he wondered if they might be late to something. Some dressed to the nines in what Richie didn't think he could ever pull off, and others just in the typical business wear. It was a little overwhelming, honestly, and he kinda missed his car.

Eddie, his mind chimed, you're going to Eddie.

Richie steeled, and made his way onto the sidewalk. He noticed immediately that no one really looked at him, which was a little refreshing but also kind of not. He didn't have the time to think about it. Horns echoing in the back of his head, his eyes hooked on the red building. Curiously, he peeked into the windows and saw big lettering along the window: 'Annie's Antiques'. It was more rundown than he'd seen before, on the street, but it strangely kind of suited it.

And then, there it was. Eddie's apartment building. Eddie was in there. Eddie Kaspbrak. His boyfriend, who he loved. God, Eddie was in there, waiting-

Richie walked quicker, even passing by some people (passing fucking New Yorkers? Jesus, he was desperate), and slipped through the doors.

The place wasn't crazy cheap with like shitty, peeling wallpaper or stained carpet. It was pretty normal for an apartment building, Richie had definitely stayed in something like this before. That is to say, his apartment was better. He had a pretty good apartment though, so, that didn't say much-

"Can I help you, sir?"

His eyes snapped to a woman at the front desk, a long one with old, wooden sort of charm. Or maybe it was just old.

"Uh, no, I'm just-" Richie bounced on his toes, "-I'm visiting someone."

"And you know their room number?" She asked, in that fake sort of polite way (otherwise, she looked like she really didn't want to be there).

"Yes, yeah," Richie cleared his throat, "-I just need to know where the elevator is-"

"It's out of order," she interrupted pointedly, and motioning toward a door, "-but the stairs are to the left."

"Oh, okay, thanks," Richie finished, awkwardly. And tried his best not to run to the door, he may have speedwalked though.

Noting somewhere in his head that she had not said 'you're welcome', Richie pushed open the door into a stairwell. A less clean one than his own (he noted to not touch the railing at all), but other than that, very similar. He stared at the steps for a second, they almost seemed a little looming. Dim lights didn't help how it looked either. Richie took a big breath, and pulled himself up the first step.

"302," he muttered, counting the flights in his head, "-302."

Pushing open the door, to what he assumed to be the third floor, he was met with an average hallway. Some packages in front of doors, some rugs, nothing was personalized other than that, though.

He gnawed at his lips and moved his head to the left -301. He moved his head to the right -302. His heart was beating so loud that he heard it in his ears -heavy and quick.

Richie swallowed and took measured steps to the door. Until he was right in front of it. Wood staring right back at him.

He could feel anxiety prickle along his arms and took a few deep breaths. Fuck. Richie tugged once at his curls.

Okay, Tozier, you got this.

Trying to keep his voice steady, he raised his hand -knocking and saying cheerfully (which he did not have to fake), "Special delivery!"

Before Richie could even stress about this being the wrong door, he heard footsteps scamper across the floor. Laughing a little, he heard the click of a few locks -done so quickly that he barely heard it at all. After that, the door was snapped open with a ferocity that would surely slam against the wall if you didn't-

Richie's mind went blank.

Eddie.

He was standing right in front of him. Wearing that blue shirt that he'd asked his opinion on (For me?) and jeans that he rolled up at the ankles. And his hair was the kind of messy that Richie had told him he liked once. And those big ass brown eyes were staring at him, expressive doe-eyes looking straight into his soul. And his faded freckles across the bridge of his nose were clear as day, no blurry phone screen. Fuck, he was even more beautiful in person-

"I love you."

Eddie's voice came out breathless, like it took all of his might (or maybe like he felt it with every fiber of his being), and there was no digital crinkle. It was just his voice -straight to his ears. Richie felt his heart leap into his throat.

Right there, right in front of me, Eddie's right there-

Richie felt so much that he wasn't even sure how to start. Instead, he just moved on instinct -red splotchy patches moving up his collarbone.

He smiled, gentle and soft, "I love you too, Eds."

Richie watched as he flickered through a few different emotions, eyebrows pulling and mouth both flattening and quirking up. It felt like he was looking at a painting in a fucking museum and kept learning new meanings... or, or seeing new metaphors. There was just so much, laid out in front of him, and brewing in his fingertips. God, he felt like he might fucking faint-

"You're such a..." Eddie huffed out, cheeks puffed up -pink smoothing up his face. His brain seeming to work on what to say.

Richie opened his mouth to say something-

Eddie raised his hand, and tugged at his collar -bringing him (and his bag) stumbling into the doorway. He was barely a breath away from him, big brown eyes locked onto him.

Richie's eyes grew wide, mouth snapping shut.

He could feel his face get hotter -eyes darting between Eddie's. Eddie seemed a little shocked too, but after a few moments, his face screwed up into a flustered frown (one Richie recognized easily). It made his heart flutter, Eddie right in front of me-

"Fuck it," Eddie grumbled out, low and in between the two of them. Richie blinked.

Before he could do much else, Eddie's hands were on his face (all soft and warm fingertips), snapping their lips together.

It only took a second for Richie realize what was happening, the way that Eddie was pushing himself as physically close to him as possible, the way his hands definitely itched to lace themselves into his hair, the way Eddie was fucking kissing him-

Richie moved on autopilot, awkward hands at his sides smoothing over to around Eddie's waist. And then, Eddie relaxed, hands pushing forward around his neck and, as expected, into his hair. He felt goosebumps along his skin, erupting across every inch, because god, he was fucking kissing Eddie. Richie had the stray thought that he tasted like mint, the mouthwash kind. And he liked it, somehow, because it was just so... Eddie. So, so Eddie. It made something in his blood burn because it was Eddie. He was kissing Eddie. God.

He didn't know how long they stayed like that, kissing, over and over and over again. Some surface level, some not. Richie pulling him as close as possible, and Eddie reciprocating by doing the very same. Everything just slotted together perfectly, fuck Eddie was right there. Eddie.

Richie grinned against his lips, laughing a little -so fucking elated he felt like he might just start floating. Eddie's lips quirked up too, making the kiss all teeth, but Richie couldn't give less of a fuck. Eddie's laugh filled his head, and he took it as a motion to pull back just one breath.

Eddie was looking at him, smiling, red-splotchy face, and kiss bruised lips. His big brown eyes were fucking... twinkling, and it made something in his stomach twirl and flutter and kick, everything.

Richie moved slightly, kissing his cheek, and then the other, and then the tip of his nose, and then his cheekbones, and then his eyebags, and then his forehead-

Eddie was 100% giggling now, and it made Richie's brain slow to a low buzz.

"Okay, okay," Eddie laughed, moving his hands to Richie's shoulders and pulling him back slightly -not too far though, "-that's enough, Rich."

Rich, Rich, Rich, Rich, Rich-

Eddie blinked up at him for a few seconds, and Richie did the same -just staring. Because there Eddie was, right there. Right in front of him, with splotchy skin and pink lips because of him, Eddie Kaspbrak was right there. Eddie. His Eddie, Eds, Eddie baby-

"Fuck," Richie laughed a little, "-You're fucking right there. What the fuck."

Eddie laughed again too, hands moving up to cradle his face again, saying -in disbelief maybe, "So, are you, dipshit."

"Yeah, well," Richie offered, not moving an inch (and gently feeling the strokes of Eddie's thumb against his face -it shot all the way down to his toes), "-it's fucking bigger for me. I've only see you in videos and fucking... pictures-"

"No," Eddie tsked, frown pulling at his lips (he wanted to kiss him again so bad it physically burned) and eyes hitching all along his features, "-it's bigger for me, moron. I've been watching you stream for like fucking... years. And now, you're just... your stupid face is right in front of me."

Richie smiled, the soft kind, and tilted his head to the side ever-so-slightly, "And your beautiful face is right in front of me."

Eddie just stared at him then, unrelenting with his cheeks puffing up and red splotches crawling up his skin. Richie wanted to keep him forever-

"Fuck you."

Richie snorted, naturally wanting to move back, but Eddie's hands kept him in place, right in front of him. It was a little funny for a moment how his body shot back into place -stumbling right back to where he was standing.

"Quite the grip, ya have there, Mr. Kaspbrak," Richie retorted in a British accent (a cliché one, of course).

"Well," Eddie's eye flicked around his face, cheeks puffed up still and face still splotchy, "-I just got you, dipshit, I'm not fucking letting you go. Not willingly."

Richie paused, blinking a few times. Something swirling in his stomach, a little like butterflies.

God. He loves me.

"You know what, Eds?" He chimed back, looking at him (a little like he was his world), "-Surprisingly, I think I'm perfectly fine with that."

"Yeah?" Eddie smiled (maybe a little like he was his world too), brushing some of his hair back -gently.

Richie just looked at him, tangible and right in front of him (he could feel the thrum of his heartbeat against his skin), "Yeah."

[tarakaybee]

Oxventure - Portal Combat and Final Final Campaign Thoughts

This is gonna be a bit of an essay, but I have had a lot of thoughts over the years.

Honestly, in the end, Oxventure just managed to stick the landing for me. My one major ask with my complex relationship with this D&D show, and the reason that I stopped watching it, is that I wanted to be told a good story. I feel like sometimes when I talk to people about this, I get given the excuse that "it's just a comedy" and that you don't need to follow the rules to have a good time, neither of which is at all where my complaints lie. Don't get me wrong, I'm a massive nerd for the mechanical minutiae of 5E and love to minmax and roleplay using my character's stats and abilities, but the rules don't automatically equal a good story. It certainly can help to create a story with dramatic tension if the rules carry with them the possibility of death and failure, you only need to listen to The Adventure Zone: Balance to see that you can tell a good D&D story that follows the rules as little as it feels like, and have an overtly comedic tone, while also telling a really strong, effective story with a realised world, an escalation in dramatic tension and three dimensional characters.

I love Critical Role, Dimension 20 and that first arc of TAZ, but my personal favourite Dungeons and Dragons actual-play is Not Another D&D Podcast, which is basically the platonic idea of Oxventure (and also is more consistent and a better told story than TAZ in my opinion). The setting and characters are explicitly comedic archetypes, and they can spend half an episode riffing, but they're much more competent at keeping the story on track, which is after all, part of the reason I invest in this game. When I say that Oxventure started to get boring and receptive around Season Two, that I think they mess around riffing with each other too much, which saps time away that they could've spent developing their characters or fleshing out the world in any conceivable manner, and that they don't follow the rules enough for the game to have any tension, I want you all to bear in mind that my favourite D&D show is one that starts with a five minute conversation about dragon pussies before introducing any of the PCs, and that one PC has a possum who has the ability to scribe letters and act as a lawyer, purely because she joked about it so often the DM was forced to canonise it.

I thoroughly enjoy Johnny and the Oxboxtra crew, and I've always thought that they had it in them to tell great stories, and I was proven to be correct when their Deadlands and Blades in the Dark campaigns concluded and told amazingly compelling, dramatic stories without losing their comedy edge, and that encouraged me to give the main campaign another shot. For the most part, this final arc has been more of the same kind that I got bored by and stopped watching, but these last two episodes managed to pull through for me. The story and everything the story has ultimately been about came to head afterward the main fight with the post-climax confrontation with Lilliana.

I love the bold choices that Luke, Andy and Ellen made, technically none of those spells should have worked the way they did, but for the purpose of the story it worked. Corazon's big sacrifice was a great story beat to end on, it was a bit of a cliche, but cliches are used for a reason. What I like about Corazon and Dob's big sacrifices is that Corazon would never have done that in episode one, wheras Dob was always this good and always would have done, and his choice affirms what we love about him. Ellen acted the hell out of that scene too, I'm glad that she got a big moment as well.

This campaign is the one that got me into the TTRPG hobby, it was bittersweet to see it end after all this time. Inspired by Dob, I ended up playing my own Half-Orc Bard in a weekly campaign that lasted five real years, it's not an exaggeration to see that that was a whole and significant period of my recent life that Oxventure kicked off. Knowing now what they know about the way Oxventure turned out, I'm genuinely curious to see what they'll all do differently, since obviously they won't want it to just be the same kind of campaign a second time. I personally hope for a story that sticks the middle, as well as the landing and takeoff, but we'll see!

[recreationalfanfics]

Hello! :D

You know I've read too much Yandere content when I don't even blink at Yandere!Connor kidnapping his beloved. I just think to myself, "What a nice man."

Thanks for the headcanons! Do you have any ideas for Yandere!Jacob?

GJWJFJWJD, TRUE, YAN! CONNOR WAS HARD TO RIGHT BC HE'S GENUINELY THE MOST KINDEST ASSASSIN. But HELL YEAH, I DO. I MAY BE NATIVE BUT I AM NOT IMMUNE TO JACOB FRYE.

- I HAVE CALLED HIM DELULU AS A YANDERE BEFORE but like, he obviously doesn't start out like that. I think his obsession starts with you and how you seem to be the only pure thing in this corrupt city. Yeah, you may curse a lot even if it isn't "proper" and you aren't afraid to snap at people and call them out on your rotten behavior. AND JACOB EATS IT UP EVERYTIME.

- No because I can imagine you befriending Evie first and whenever you visit her when she's with the rooks, some drunk guy hits on her and Jacob is gonna step in BUT YOU ABSOLUTELY RIP HIM A NEW ONE. YOUR WORDS ARE SO BRUTAL THAT EVERYONE IN THE BAR IS CRACKING UP OR BEING ALL: "Stop! STOP! HE'S ALREADY DEAD!" and the man will lash out and that's when Jacob steps in.

- EITHER WAY, HE PUTS YOU ON A PEDASTAL. He loves hearing you talk, he constantly asks Evie about you, and whenever she walks in; he excitedly pops his head out to see if you're behind her. He becomes visibly dissapointed when you aren't and asks Evie why she didn't invite you. HE ALSO DEF TRIES TO MAKE YOU FEEL AS WELCOMED AS POSSIBLE AT THE ROOK HANG OUTS, aka, HE WANTS YOU TO COME BACK TO HIM.

- If you do, his attention is solely focused on you. He'll talk to you, joke around with you, but he also knows he runs out of time with your attention sadly so he hates it when something or someone takes it, HE ALSO HATES IT WHEN HE HAS TO GIVE HIS ATTENTION TO OTHER THINGS. One of his Rooks are trying to talk to him and its like:

"Jacob! JACOB, We have to tell you something!"

Jacob, very coldly:"I'm sure it can wait."

You: "It sounds important, Jacob."

Jacob, very warmly: "I'm sure its fine, luv!"

- He starts making "jokes" about how he's gonna be your husband and at first you find them funny but then you become increasingly concerned that he's staring to believe it because of the way he gets protective when another man talks to you, the way he feels entitled to drop by your home whenever you want, but when you decide to have romantic interest in someone else; he LOSES IT.

- Like if you tell him you have a crush on a guy, he just stands up and looks at you and is all: "What about me!?" and yoy have too look at him and say: "What about you? Jacob, we're not even dating!" and he tries to insist otherwise (despite the fact he never asked that question, nevermind the fact that you never even ANSWERED IT) and eventually you just tell him to leave you alone.

- This where Evie comes in clutch. Regardless if she's a platonic yandere for you and thinks you're safe with Jacob or if she's a familial yandere and wants to make Jacob happy; when you talk to her about Jacob, she'll trash him a bit with you but then start making you feel guilty, telling you things about Jacob that make you feel for him, only to remind you about all of his good qualities. She is so good at talking to you that you do end up forgiving him.

- HOWEVER even if he tries to tone down his behavior, it doesn't change the fact that he will most definetly still think of you as the love of his life, THE OTHER HALF OF HIS HEART. You just mean so much to him♡

- So he'll still try and woo you the old fashioned way and staying in your good graces but if you remain too stubborn or too resistant to his affection then he will kidnap you. He would hate to do it because he doesn't want to force you to see that you love him but he will if you keep trying to stay in denial for too long.

- Totally the type to break into your house when you're not there too, btw. Not to mention that he also really likes to steal small things you wouldn't notice are gone right away and keep them in his pocket, either as a lucky charm or such.

[bangtan-in-black]

Fruits of my labour // chapter 3

“Eomma, you're squeezing too tight.” Douhyun moans, trying to release himself desperately from his mothers grasp.

“I am sorry baby but eomma needs to protect you.” You can't help yourself but to squeeze him tighter.

“It’s too tight, just a little looser please” Douhyun asks.

“Ok baby, I am sorry.” you let him go slightly but keep him close to you.

“Can you please be quiet? I'm trying to sleep.” Yerum moans grumpily.

“Do you miss him hyung?” Douhyun whispers, looking at his brother's back moving along with his breathing.

“Of course I do. Douhyun, what kind of question is that?” Yerums breathing speeds up. His tone shakes slightly. You could tell he was close to crying.

“We all do baby, that's why you're sleeping in eomma’s bed tonight, so you don't feel so alone.” You don't want to tell him the real reason why you're keeping him so close, that what happened to his brother could happen to him. You needed to keep your boys close to you, you werent gonna lose them as well.

You weren't going to sleep anyway, how could anyone sleep in the situation you were currently in?

“Taehyung, I see you’ve brought a guest. How’re you doing, little guy?” The man asks, smiling at the shy child who grabs his fathers coat and hides behind his back.

“Hyungsik, this is Hoseok, Hoseok is daddy’s husband. You know what that is?” Taehyung peeks at the little boy who looks up back at his father and nods.

“You know Jimin and Yoongi are not going to be happy about this don’t you?” Hoseok glances up at Tae before turning his attention back to Hyungsik who was still hiding behind the comfort of his father.

“To be honest, Hyung, that is the least of my worries, I need to get my little man to sleep. We've had quite the day haven't we son?”

“I had so much fun appa! I loved it so much.”

“I'll talk to Yoongi and Jimin in a bit, just let me put my son down for the night.” Taehyung practically pleads with his husband.

“Very well, but please don't let it be known that I knew about this. You know what it's like when those two get angry.” Hoseok jokes earning a light chuckle from Taehyung.

“You'll be in the room though, nevermind this little guy it's nearly Jinnie’s bedtime, you know the rules.”

“Once Jinnie is tired we are all tired.” The two men synchronise, ending their conversation with a peck on the lips, Taehyung and Hyungsik head off to put Hyungsik to bed.

“Appa?” Hyungsik’s small voice calls from under the sheets.

“What is it, my son?” Taehyung, who was just about to leave before his son called out for him, sat next to Hyungsik on the massive king sized bed.

“I really enjoyed today but shouldn't I be going home? Eomma will miss me otherwise.”

Taehyung nods thoughtfully at his son, Hyungsiks words pulling on his heart strings, but he can't bring himself to tell his son the truth, that his eomma couldn't look after him like his appa could. Taehyung had more money, and more time to make sure his son had everything he needed.

So he lied.

“Actually baby, eomma said you should stay with me for awhile, how does that sound?” Taehyung questions while stroking his son's hair.

“It sounds good appa,” Hyungsik says, yawning half way through his sentence.

“You get some rest my son, I promise there's another fun day ahead tomorrow.”

Just as Taehyung got up to leave, Hyungsik asked him another question.

“What about my hyungs? Why aren't they here spending time with us as well?”

Taehyung could have sworn he heard his heart shatter into 3 million pieces.

“Well son, if your brothers were here with us as well, eomma would be lonely right?” Taehyung treads carefully, he was unsure if what he was saying was the right thing to ease the little boy's curiosity.

“Yeah, you're right appa, goodnight appa. I love you”

And just like that, the 3 million pieces of his heart were back together again and Taehyung felt like he was walking on clouds.

Never before had he felt this type of euphoria. It came close when he married the loves of his life but not quite, this was stronger. The happiest he's ever been, he's sure of it.

“I love you too son, sleep tight. What would you like for breakfast in the morning?” Taehyung catches himself asking.

Hyungsik was half asleep, Taehyung wanted to laugh. If he didn't have the DNA results he would've thought he'd picked up Yoongi hyungs kid by mistake.

Taehyung turns to leave but before he does he hears a gentle “Bacon n’ eggs please appa.”

But even with his half asleep quiet voice,Taehyung heard. “Ok son, i'll ask Seokjin to make it the best ever for you.”

Taehyung didn't get a response after that.

He smiled at his son one last time before quietly shutting his door and heading to the top floor of the manor where his and his husbands bedroom was.

“Ahh there he is,” His oldest Hyung sighs in relief whilst checking his watch. “What took you so long? And where were you all day?” If Taehyung didn't know any better he'd say his older husband looked annoyed, but Taehyung did know better. Seokjin was teasing him. He loved to do that to all of them and none of them have ever complained. They love him too much to complain.

But nevertheless he was going to answer Seokjin’s question, it actually gave him a perfect opening. God, he loved his hyung so much.

“Haha very funny,” Taehyung played along, admittedly quite nervous for the reactions of the men in the room, but it was now or never.

“I was spending the day with Hyungsik.” Taehyung responds, waiting for a response from the room.

“Who's Hyungsik again? Is he that really hot bodyguard that keeps checking you out because I swear to god if it's him Kim Taehyung you're going to have a man's blood on your hands.” Jungkook seethed,

“Are you jealous Jungkookie?” Seokjin teases, the oldest teasing the youngest.

“No it's he who needs to be jealous after all, Taehyung is ours. Not some greasy ex trash man.”

“Anyways, would you like to continue Taehyung.” Namjoon says, putting down his book to glance at Taehyung. Once glance and Namjoon knew there was more.

“Hyungsik is my son.”

The room stared at him in silence for a few moments and then both Jimin and Yooongi started shouting at Taehyung.

“What do you mean you were spending time with your son!?” - Jimin

“We had a plan, remember Taehyung?!” - Yoongi

The two continue to yell for a few more seconds before Namjoon shushes them.

“You two need to calm down, although I agree with their sentiment. You knew this was important to them, Taehyung. Why would you go without them?”

Taehyung sighs before sitting down on the edge of the bed.

“I'm really sorry and I know it was selfish but I couldn't stand the thought of my son out there without me being in his life. I am willing to do anything to make it up to you, I'll even sleep in the guest room and I'll rewrite the whole plan. But please, know that I am sorry but I did what needed to be done. You should've seen the state of the woman he was left with while his mother went out for ice cream. Your boys are safe for now I promise and they'll be safe until we go to collect them.”

“When will we collect them?” Hoseok asks

“Tonight.” says Jin, gaining the attention of everyone in the room.

“Yoongi, Jimin, you'll meet your sons tonight.”

[voylitscope]

Ficlet: Following the Outline of Your Face

Following the Outline of Your Face

Steve/Bucky | 1,000 words | T | Canon/Post-Canon (Not IW/EG compliant)

Their vacation cabin has a window seat between the kitchen and the living room. The space is recessed enough to almost be an alcove, and light comes through the glass panels in a way that makes Steve pause his exploration of the rooms.

"Good drawing light," Bucky comments, leaning back against the couch and looking at Steve knowingly. Steve bites the inside of his cheek.

"Yeah. Looks like it might be," Steve says, watching the way sunlight hits the cushions of the window seat and the hardwood of the floor.

"Planning to get some sketching done, Stevie?" Bucky asks, eyes on Steve's face.

"I'd like to," Steve says. He shrugs a shoulder and turns to face Bucky. "Guess we'll see."

"You know, that last time you came down to see me in Wakanda? I think you told me every day you were gonna draw. But I don't think I saw you pick up a pencil," Bucky says. He says it so that it mostly sounds like a joke, but also like could be a question if Steve wants it to be.

"I didn't," Steve agrees, shaking his head. "I haven't really been — It's not that I don't want to. Lately, though. Recently. I haven't gotten much done."

"Recently is an interesting word at our very unusual age," Bucky says, raising his eyebrows. His tone is still light, but the way his eyes are fixed on Steve feels unnervingly serious.

"You're not wrong," Steve admits. He laughs in a way he wishes didn't sound bitter. "I think you probably saw the last thing I finished. I haven't even been doing it all that much —"

"Recently," Bucky finishes when Steve trails off, nodding at him. Steve nods back. "Well, no time like a vacation, right?"

"Can't hurt," Steve says. Bucky grins at him. He pushes himself up and puts one hand on each of Steve's arms. Then he maneuvers Steve and guides him to sit on the window seat.

It makes Steve more than a little dizzy.

"Maybe I can even help," Bucky says, letting go of Steve's arms and then using his metal hand to push on one of Steve's biceps gently. "Look, you can sit there and draw, and I'll come bug you about shit. That way you can yell at me about it, and it'll be like old times. Get you in the mood."

("C'mon, Buck, I'm gonna lose the light," Steve says. He grumbles as Bucky's shadow falls over his work.

"I'm trying to tell you something here," Bucky says, waving a hand at him. "Are you sayin' you don't wanna hear about my day? That's rude, Steve."

Steve looks up and narrows his eyes before reaching a hand out and putting it on Bucky's waist so he can push him out of the good light. Bucky laughs when he does, and he makes one of those faces he sometimes does. It's just a quick little thing, but it's also a familiar thing — It's a face that he sometimes makes when Steve touches him in certain ways or says certain things. It's an expression that'll come and go in an instant, and that later—

Later, when he's alone, in selfish and private moments, Steve will lie to himself about it. Later, Steve will think about that expression of Bucky's, and he'll pretend there's a chance it looks pleased or even flustered.

Now, in the kitchen, Steve scowls, because he's trying to stay annoyed. He doesn't want to stare too long, or get caught up in Bucky's laughter and up laughing, too.

"Tell me about it from over there," Steve mutters, dropping his hand. "Told you not to stand in the light a hundred times."

"And I told you that the light in here is different depending on when I get home, or if it's cloudy, or what time of year it is," Bucky says, still laughing. "But I'm so very sorry for standing in my own kitchen."

"So sorry to make you move over a whole foot," Steve returns, then he looks up at Bucky. He finally gives in a little, and laughs, too. "Okay, what did you want to tell me?"

"Now he wants to hear," Bucky says, shaking his head, but then grinning and launching his story.)

"I never yelled at you," Steve protests half-heartedly, laughing. "I grumbled at you. That's very different."

"Whatever you say," Bucky says. His eyes are brighter than Steve has seen them in a very long time. "It could work though. I don't know what I've got to bother you with here, but I'll figure it out," Bucky says. He pauses for a second and looks deviously thoughtful before poking Steve's arm again. He uses an over-the-top mock enthusiastic tone when he continues. "Steve, I just gotta tell you right now about this bird in the backyard. Steve, you have to hear about this book I'm reading. It's real important, Steve — How's that? Annoying enough? Think it'll help?"

Bucky actually is in Steve's light now. He's glowing with it. It makes him look real, alive, and happy.

He looks stunning.

Breathtaking.

And Steve wants —

Steve laughs and shakes his head.

"Don't know, but I know you being here will help," Steve says because it's true. It's always true.

"Oh yeah?" Bucky says. His smile looks softer, but not any less happy. "Glad to help. With art, or — "

Bucky's words trail off, and he keeps his gaze focused on Steve. Steve nods.

"Yeah, I think this trip was a great idea," Steve says, smiling back. "Gonna be good for us both."

"You might be right about that," Bucky says. His eyes stay locked on Steve's, and Steve stares right back. Steve lets himself have the lingering moment until his pulse gets quick enough he's worried Bucky's enhanced senses will pick it up.

"Come on, there's a whole porch we haven't seen," Steve says. He slides his hands onto his knees and stands up.

"Lead the way," Bucky says, finally breaking eye contact.

[percivex]

could you do English marigold/barberry with team rancher? your writing it just aaaa

Barberry ☠ - Ill temper; Petulance; Satire; Sharpness; Sharpness of temper; Sourness; Sourness of temper

_

Tango is sitting in front of his son's grave, quiet and head bowed, when Jimmy returns to The Ranch in a flurry of movement.

Jimmy, to his credit, doesn't say anything to disturb him when he realises what Tango is doing, but it's a little hard to ignore him when he throws himself into Tango's side, pressing into him and clinging to his side.

Tango shifts, throwing an arm over Jimmy's shoulder, only slightly disconcerted by his palpable frustration. "What's up, buttercup?" He asks lightheartedly, to show he's open for conversation. His grieving was real - it was almost ridiculous how endeared he had become to the Warden in his short life - but Jimmy was always his priority. He was his other half.

Jimmy grumbles wordlessly, curling closer and accidentally knocking their heads together, which Tango has gathered from personal experience is often a bad thing. There is something surreal about being on the other side of anger. "That bad, huh?" Tango muses sympathetically, rubbing his hand over Jimmy's upper arm, before adding, only half-joking, "Who do we have to kill now?"

"Joel and Etho, and Cleo, and Scott, and- and everyone!" Jimmy hisses, red eyes shining with something uncharacteristic. In fact, he seems startled by his own words, blinking and pulling away from Tango slightly, enough to shake his head. "I- no, no, I don't mean that, I think. Maybe?"

"Come on, talk to me. I can't figure out if you mean it or not if I don't know what caused all this." Tango prompts, trying to tug his soulmate back towards him to comfort him. Jimmy folds easily, leaning heavily into him with a heated sigh. Bloodlust doesn't suit Jimmy, he thinks; it doesn't fit right on his face, and swallows too much light when locked behind his eyes.

"...It wasn't even bad timing." Jimmy mutters eventually, suddenly looking tired and sad, as if someone had thrown a bucket of water over him. "They weren't after Grian and Scar at all. Scott and Cleo ordered a hit on us, Joel told me." His eyes narrows, something bitter and sharp laying like barbs over his tongue. "They wanted to kill us. We were gonna die no matter where we were."

Oh.

There is something dark and angry roiling in his gut, and Tango can feel his chest growing hotter, ash collecting in his throat. His temper was bad enough without the goading of Red urges in his veins, and for a moment, that's all he can see.

(There are thorns and blood red berries dancing up his legs, and clustered around a phantom arrow wound on Jimmy's stomach, and Tango wants to prick everyone who had any sort of hand in planting them.)

But then he notices the way Jimmy grits his teeth, pupils closer to pinpricks and wings flared to intimidate an invisible threat. His grip is tight to the point of discomfort, and Tango wrestles with his rage furiously to be able to help calm him, because being angry may be familiar to him but Jimmy being murderous isn't.

Tango understands. Of course he does. Jimmy hadn't been subtle about how guilty he felt about losing their second life, even though they later realised he fell because of a hit Tango took. And now, to find out it didn't matter, because they going to end up dead no matter what?

He exhales heavily, smoke billowing from his mouth, and that's enough to distract Jimmy, eyes flicking up to his face and softening somewhat.

"Well, I was planning on adopting another Warden anyway." Tango says in a forcibly cheerful tone, nodding towards the humble shrine in front of them. "I'm sure they wouldn't mind a bit of, uh, impromptu babysitting."

Jimmy starts to smile, which is already a postive in Tango's book, and his posture loosens a little. "It'll be dangerous to go to the Deep Dark now that we only have one life left." He points out hoarsely, absentminded as if he was only saying it because he was supposed to.

"I'm up for it if you are." Tango replies easily, and that might be a lie, but it doesn't feel like it, not with that itch seated steadily beneath his skin, their skin.

Jimmy is quiet for a moment, before his smile unfurls into a grin. "We're gonna die anyway." There is nothing emotional behind that, a simple fact they both know and acknowledge. "We might as well try to drag as many people down with us, right?"

And Tango returns his grin, all sharp edges and so, so warm, but oddly soothed. "Exactly."

[blueeyedgeorgie]

Cancelled-Dream Was Taken

A/N: Surprise bitch. Weren’t we expecting for me to release mcyt fanfics soon? If I didn’t tag my usual @‘s it’s because idk if you’d like to be tagged for mcyt content.

Pronouns: she/her

Word Count: 2.3k+

_________________

"You're so harsh on him!" Her hands sat on the keyboard, staring at the green human that stood on Y/n's computer screen.

She needed to be careful. While this was a heated moment, she couldn't let herself get too loud for multiple reasons. If she got too loud, Dream's stream viewers would be able to tell she was in the next room or they would just receive noise complaints from their neighbors.

"No Y/n! You're too soft on him! He needs to learn that he can't get away with everything. You're setting him up for failure." As the h/c girl listened to her roommate speak, she had to remind herself over and over again; 'This wasn't real.' Dream was mad, not Clay.

This had all been arranged as roleplay. Y/n would be leaving in a few days to go visit some of her family for a reunion, so Wilbur had been the one to think up the brilliant idea of what was playing out now; an argument between Y/n and Dream. The plan was to have Y/n get so upset she didn't log onto the SMP for the next few days, only to come back with a master plan to backstab Dream.

At first, Clay wasn't really on board with the thought of him getting angry at Y/n. They had been together for a little over a year, there wasn't a single moment they had gotten upset with one another. But surprisingly, Y/n had been the one to convince Clay it was a good idea.

The fans knew Dream and Y/n had a close friendship, Dream had always been so protective of her. But when this was going down, they didn't know how to act.

Every time Y/n would glance at her chat, she'd see thousands of comments rising up as new ones appeared. Comment after comment, it looked like the fans were shocked by the way this stream was turning out.

"I'm not setting him up for anything! He's a kid, Dream!" Y/n glanced from the chat,  back at the screen showing her PC game. Standing on her screen was Dream and Tommyinnit, she had accompanied Dream to visit Tommy.

"You're just babying him! 'He's a kid!' Well, he needs to learn to grow up eventually," his voice had been filled with such spite. It felt weird to hear Clay speaking to her like this in such a tone.

For a moment, she stared at the green man before a short scoff escaped her lips. "I can't believe you." With that, Y/n had pressed a few keys, turning her character towards the nether portal a couple of yards away. Before Dream had gotten the chance to speak again, Y/n began to move away.

"Y/n! Come back here!"

She flicked a few buttons, taking a moment to look behind her character to see Dream following. Good, everything was going according to plan. Within the next few minutes, she'd be able to log off and she'd be on vacation for the next few days.

The h/c girl ignored the green man as she stepped through the portal, taking her to Minecraft's version of hell. Almost done, she just needed to find a good spot to stop as she listened to Dream continue to speak.

"You can't keep ignoring me! You know I'm right in this. You know you can't keep defending Tommy. You know Tommy is driving a wedge between us-"

Perfect. Y/n had stopped just on the edge of a bridge, molten lava sat feet below them. If she fell, she'd surely die. "No."

"No?" Dream was a bit surprised to hear Y/n cut him off, but he stayed silent as he was prepared to listen to what she had to say.

"No. No more. I don't wanna hear you blame Tommy for us breaking apart. I want you to listen to me. You've been acting like much more of a dick than usual and I hate it. I despise it. You've changed for the worst because you think you can step on everyone. At this point, everyone fears to tell you the truth-except me. I'll be a hundred percent honest with you, you've been so egotistical, it's really pissed me off. This is your fault, Dream. Not Tommy's. You exiled a child for pulling a prank on a vacation house! Not even George's real house!"

"But-"

"Shut the fuck up. I'm done, but I don't wanna hear you bullshit me. So shut the fuck up."

A moment of silence passed between them as Y/n stared at her screen. Just a few more steps.

And within seconds, Dream had pulled out his netherite sword. With one hit, she was falling back into lava. Y/n glanced at her chat, a look of shock on her face as she read over what a few comments said. A moment of silent tension had passed before Y/n had finally spoken up, removing her from the voice chat she was in.

"Alright guys, I guess that's enough for the day. I'll see you all... later." With that, she had clicked a few buttons, raiding Dream's live-stream as she ended hers.

For the next 20 to 30 minutes, Y/n knew Clay would be busy streaming. So she had decided to take a bit of time to wind down and think to herself.

Get a glass of water.

'Are the fans harassing him in his twitch chat?'

Sit down on the living room couch.

'The SMP fans were always so protective of me.'

Pet Patches.

'Was I too much when I snapped at him?'

It didn't seem like 30 minutes had passed when Clay had walked out of his streaming room, only to find Y/n on the couch with Patches in her lap. "Hey, N/n." "Oh, your stream is already over?" Y/n smiled, pulling herself out of her thoughts as she scoot over, giving Clay room to take a seat right by her.

"Yeah, did you lose track of time or something?"

"I must've. How did the chat react after I 'died'?" She smiled up at her boyfriend as he wrapped an arm over her shoulders, pulling her closer into his embrace.

"Everyone was filled with joy that you died."-Y/n playfully swatted at him. "Okay, okay! I got a few chat messages of people bashing me for it, but it's fine."

"Well, it's a good thing the chat wasn't completely littered with hate. How was it after my raid?"

"Honestly, not that bad as you expect. Like I said, just a few comments. Nothing bad, I just ignored it." Clay placed a hand on Patches's head, gently scratching her, followed by the animal beginning to purr.

"Good to hear, anyways... I'm not ready to pack. Do you think we can procrastinate?" The h/c girl let out a huff leaning against her boyfriend. "How?"

"I was thinking a bit of movie binging, cuddling, and ordering dinner?" A cheeky smile spread on her face as she spoke.

"It's like you read my mind."

The couple had made it through three movies, by now it was later at night. The sun had set and they had already door dashed some food. By now they were in the middle of watching 'The Empire Strikes Back.'

'I love you.' 'I know.'

The iconic moment between Hans and Leia had been interrupted by the sound of Clay's phone buzzing. "Why is George calling?"

"What?" Y/n was a bit curious herself. Considering the timezones, George should be asleep right now. Pausing the TV, she turned her attention to her boyfriend's phone.

"Hey Clay."

"What's up, George? Isn't it like early in the morning for you?" Clay raised a brow, moving his phone so Y/n would be able to see George as well.

"Yeah, I had to stay up to fix a YouTube video I need to get out today. I was about to go to bed and I checked Twitter-"

"Oh no." Clay made a short joke, only to be cut off by his friend.

"I don't know if it's trending for you in America, but you might as well look."

"What's going on?" He swiped up, taking him to his home screen so he could click on the little blue bird app. Y/n had grabbed her phone from the coffee table, opening up the app as well. "#Cancel Dream... #Y/n... #Dream SMP"

"Is... is Clay getting canceled for killing me in Minecraft?" Y/n scrolled through the tweets involving the hashtag 'Y/n.' She could see plenty of people defending her, but making it much bigger of a problem than it actually was.

"Oh, hey Y/n. But yeah, he is." George chuckled awkwardly, scrolling through his Twitter app as well.

"This is so fucking stupid."

"It really is. So we might as well get this cleared up with the fans as soon as possible. Do you want me to tweet something, or do you want to?" Y/n looked up at her boyfriend, it looked like he was thinking.

"Yeah, I'll tweet it. Don't worry about this, Y/n."

"Alright, whatever you say," she replied, pulling a blanket over her as she waited for Clay to finish typing his response.

"Here's what I'm gonna say: 'I can't believe you guys actually think me and @(y/n) are in an actual fight in real life. We have been good friends since forever, the fight was only roleplay. I love that you guys are so protective of Y/n, but no one's actually upset.' How's that sound?"

"I think that's good," George hummed softly.

"Yeah, I doubt you'll stay 'canceled' once you've explained to them it was all part of the SMP lore." The h/c girl smiled up at her boyfriend with a small nod.

"Alright, I'm gonna post it. George, I think you should go to bed because you're half asleep already."

Y/n turned, looking at her boyfriend's iPhone. "Go to sleep, Gogy!"

"Alright, alright... I'll talk to you guys later." The call had ended with Clay and Y/n saying goodbye to their friend while George simply yawned to them as a response.

As soon as the call was over, Clay looked at the response to his tweet. It didn't seem to be going too well. There had been a few fans who understood what was going on and responded with a paragraph as an apology for the misunderstanding. But most replies had been telling Clay he was bullshitting the fans or that he wasn't being honest.

"I'm sorry, Clay," his girlfriend had huffed as she read through the responses to his tweet.

"Honestly I'm just a bit pissed off. Literally, any time someone tries to 'cancel' me, it's over something stupid. I'm not a bad guy, it just feels like some people just don't want to see me succeed." Clay had excused himself to grab a glass of water from the kitchen.

It hurt Y/n to hear how upset her boyfriend was. He never got too upset over things, but seemed to take a small toll on him. "Hold on. Let me say something." The h/c girl couldn't be asked to post multiple tweets of her response to hate sent towards Clay over the internet. So what was better than a short video that could be posted to the blue bird app?

"Um, hey guys. I'd just like to make this quick. Stop sending hate towards Dream. The fight was roleplay and nothing more. I'm gonna be busy for the next couple of days so Wilbur thought of a good idea to help build SMP lore with me and Dream and we both agreed to the argument. Now stop sending the green man hate, or I'll commit war crimes or something-"

Y/n had been interrupted by the sound of Clay letting out a small giggle. "What? What did I say?"

"Nothing, just keep going with your video."

"Whatever, I'm cool. No matter what Dream says. Anyways, I'll speak to you all later." Y/n had hit the red button again, ending her video. Within seconds, the video had been uploaded to her Twitter account.

Placing her phone back down on the table, Y/n approached her boyfriend, wrapping her arms around his torso. "I'm really sorry about the hate, Clay. I love you."

"Don't apologize for something you can't control. I love you more." The brunette held his partner close, accepting her hug. Y/n always loved his hugs, she always felt so safe in his embrace.

The rest of the night had been spent with more cuddling and more Star Wars movies. Hours had passed before Y/n had even thought about the Twitter situation again. But for some reason, she had decided to look at the app again tonight.

It was 2 in the morning by now, Clay was half asleep. His head laid in the h/c girl's lap as she brushed a hand through his hair, her free hand opening up her Twitter app once again.

It had been a bit of a surprise to see a couple of trending hashtags had changed so quickly. What was trending now was #Dream, #Y/n,#(ship name), and #Dream's Laugh. This had to be about Y/n's short clip she posted. And by the looks of it, people had stopped acting so harsh towards Clay. But instead, they had decided to focus on the fact Dream and Y/n were hanging out together. Not to mention the fact Dream and let out a stupid little giggle because of Y/n. People had been apologizing to him through Twitter for being so hard on him.

"Babe."

"Hm?" Clay mumbled, not bothering to open his eyes.

"Pretty much everyone is apologizing to you over Twitter for being hardasses."

"Hm, that's good to hear."

"You're really tired, huh?" Y/n paused her scrolling to look down at her boyfriend.

"Yeah," He continued to mumble, followed by a short yawn.

"Alright, time for bed, babe." Y/n smiled to herself, beginning to carefully move away from Clay. "I can pack tomorrow and we can laugh over the stupid bird app tomorrow after you've gotten a good amount of sleep."

"I still can't believe Twitter tried canceling me over roleplay."

"I can't believe you got uncancelled by shippers."

Taglist: @notphilosopherstudentblog

[sunkaashi]

— OVERTIME

↬ Pairing. College!Atsumu x Manager!Reader

↬ Genre. Fluff. A hint of enemies to lovers if you look really closely.

↬ Warnings. Mentions of alcohol. I guess nothing else? Let me know if you think I'm wrong!

↬ Summary.  Atsumu Miya is hopelessly in love with you, but how could he ever catch your attention if all you do is ignore him? Well, maybe his plan starts to work out when he finds out that whenever he stays longer for practice, you have to stay too.

↬ Word count. 1.7k

↬ tris' note: I wrote this in the spur of the moment, but I had so much fun! feedbacks are extremely appreciated! if you wanna be added to my general taglist, fill out this form.

anyways, did you know that only hot people reblog the works they like? NO? well, now you do ;) jk, but reblogs help me tons and I'm very grateful for them <3

Sweat dripped down the back of ATSUMU's neck as he jogged around the college tracks for the nth time that afternoon.

"Just one more lap." He kept telling himself over and over again as if repeating it would make it any less of a lie.

But who could blame him when this was the only moment of the day that he could spend with you? When he just knew that, by the end of that turn, you'd be there to receive him, water bottle and towel in hand? If anything, that just drove him more and more motivated to get to the finish line.

Those seconds in which your hands slightly brushed off against each other's; the way you laughed whenever he tripped over himself, too tired to carry on; the sarcastic sneer on your face every time you scolded him for wasting your time, but still wouldn't leave. To Atsumu, that was his reward, better than any shining trophy.

"Oi! Miya!" Your voice woke him up from his trance as the blonde boy finally shot up a glance at you. He rested with his hands on his knees, chest going up and down in strong and unsteady motions, legs still trembling a bit from the training. "We've been here for almost two hours! Everybody has left already, and I want to go home for God's sake!"

Atsumu snickered at the way your voice got higher with each word, deflecting from his gaze while you said you wanted to leave. He also didn't miss how you knitted your eyebrows together just before going off at him, carefully scanning his shaky body.

"Ya could've left, ya know? I never asked ya to stay!" He replied, smirking a little while making sure to stare right into your pupils.

If eyes are the windows to the soul, that must be the reason yours were so beautiful to him. As he tried to get an answer through them, he also delighted himself in such a vision. That's why he was quick to notice their slight tremble at his remark.

"And leave you to die?!" Your voice, once again, cut him off of his daydreams. "You've been running for more than an hour after a pretty rough practice, if you go into cardiac arrest who's gonna call an ambulance?! I'm the team manager, I don't want any deaths on my back!"

In his defense, he was only there because of you, but — obviously — he wouldn't tell you that. He decided to just laugh it off.

"Well, that's something you don't see every day!" He teased.

"What?!"

"Yer’ worried ‘bout me!" Atsumu said, trying to suppress the smile forming in the corner of his mouth.

Even though his tone was playful, he knew something was off when his words were left hanging in the air, no snarky comments added to the back-and-forth banter you were both so used to.

Seeing your widened eyes, he started to question if he was right or, worse, if he had crossed a line.

You gulped down as if this would prevent you from spilling something you shouldn't say. Atsumu was dying to know what it was.

This had become a little routine of yours. Staying for a couple more hours after practice as you helped him out for a while. At first, he knew you're just doing your job, after all, you were there to assist the boys, it didn't matter who they were. Still, he couldn't shake the thought that maybe, just maybe, something had changed as the months went by.

He remembered it perfectly. It wasn't that long before that you used to curse him for making you lose such precious time of your day. He knew you had your reasons! Staying overtime underneath the unforgiving sun, having to catch up on your studies while sitting beside the filthy running tracks, surrounded by sweaty and dirty athletes.

Even so, it wasn't pleasant for him either. Jogging for endless hours, the summer heat consuming him as if hell were just around the corner.

Usually, he would run only half of those miles. But how could he stop? How could he stop knowing that the minute he did, you'd have to go home, and he would only see you the next day? No, he needed more time to win you over. He needed those small talks in between his breaks. He needed every single one of the few glances you exchanged every time he ran past you. He needed to hear you giggling at his jokes at least once more.

What once felt like dragging insufferable after hours, began to seem like less and less time over the weeks. Those little details were what made it all worth it. They were his private entrance to heaven.

And he believed that you might've been starting to feel the same way too.

He'd caught the way your lips curled up into a shy smile the last time he'd offered to walk you home. He also had noticed how your irises shined a bit brighter whenever he bought you food, worried because he knew you'd be there with him for those extra periods. He'd seen the way you laughed at his childhood stories just a tad too hard, always asking for another one.

Atsumu had always been aware of how he comes off to people: the arrogant self-centered jock. He never really cared about any of those things, but he did care about how you perceived him. The man just hoped that soon enough, you'd learn he was more than what others wanted him to be. Not a pretentious athlete, albeit a normal guy as any other, just with an ambitious goal set to his mind. And whenever you shared one of those intimate moments, he thought that, perhaps, you were one of the few people that actually saw him for who he was.

Still, that didn't make it any easier to admit the feelings he'd developed for you.

"Oi! Are ya alright?" Atsumu said, trying to catch your attention, a delicate expression laying on his countenance. "I'm sorry if I overstepped in any way, ‘kay? It was a joke, I promise." You didn't answer him just yet.

"Hey!" He proceeded, lifting your chin up so you'd look at him. "Now I'm the one getting worried 'bout ya! Snap out of it and get back to hating on me before ya realize I might have a heart!" Atsumu mocked himself, but shied away from your glare while doing so.

At least he'd made you chuckle.

“I always knew you had one, Miya." You said, rolling your eyes at the man. “I just didn’t know it worked!”

“Oya! That was mean!”

“Isn’t that what you wanted?” You asked, arching your brows.

“Well, maybe, but it wouldn’t hurt if ya were a little nicer to me once in a while!”

“Yeah? How so?” The words slipped past your lips without missing a beat, and Atsumu couldn’t help but wonder if the flirtatious undertone was something he had only imagined. He decided to take the bait.

“For starters...” Atsumu began, slowly making his way closer to where you were standing. “Ya could buy me a beer after we’re done here.” Was he crazy or did he really see your shoulders relaxing at his words?

“Oh, is that easy?” You responded in the same toying manner.

“Hold up!” He said, raising his hands to the air. “That’s just the first step!”

“And then what?”

“And then…” Atsumu continued, moving further towards your figure. “Then ya could let me hear that beautiful laugh of yers a few more times.” He completed, stealing a giggle out of you. “Just like that.”

“Great, so I’m halfway through it.” Your tone may have been monotonous, but your eyes told him otherwise. “Anything else or can we get this over with?”

“Maybe, while yer’ laughing, ya could finally realize that I’m not as bad as ya think I am.” He pondered, moving a loose strand of hair out of your features, clearing the view to your gaze.

“Now you wanna tell me what to think?” You scoffed, crossing your arms.

“Is just a suggestion! Take it as ya wish!” He winked at you.

“And what if I told you that I already did?”

“Ya did?” This time, he sounded soft, breaking out of the teasy character for a second.

“You’re not bad, Miya... Far from that.” 

“Well, that’s a shock.”

“You don’t look surprised.” You stated, pointing out the crescent grin on his face.

“Too much wishful thinking made me ready for this moment.”

“And what exactly is this moment… Atsumu?” The way you said his name, in a hushed voice, almost like a secret meant to be shared by only the both of you, gave him the green light he needed to go on.

“It’s when I finally kiss ya.” 

Atsumu was quick to grab your waist, pulling you closer to his chest, and finally closing the gap between you two. His gawk rapidly traveled from your mouth to your eyes, longing for a confirmation. It didn’t take a second after your subtle nod for him to merge your lips together, your body melting at his touch. His grasp was gentle, but firm, like you were something he treasured, something that he never wanted to let go of. And by the way you gripped onto his neck, the boy could tell he wasn’t alone in this.

Atsumu moved his palms all the way up your back, briefly running his fingers through your hair, but resting them upon finding your face. His tender touch cupped your cheeks in between his hands, pushing away just when he inevitably ran out of breath. 

"Do I still have to buy you that beer or is this nice enough for you?" You said, unable to repress a smile.

“Hm, I’m not sure… Why don’t you kiss me again and we'll see?"

© sunkaashi — 2021.  all rights reserved. do not repost, plagiarise it, translate it nor reproduce this post as your own.

[let-them-read-fics]

Blackpink Reaction To Their S/O Struggling W/ Drug Addiction

Warnings / Misc. -- ⚠️ Sensitive Topic ⚠️, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff

A/N: Hey everyone! This request covers a sensitive topic that I haven't been personally exposed to, but I hope that I do it justice. I did my best to handle it with care and be as realistic as possible. Let me know what you think!

PS -- I didn't specifically name any substances or describe them in too much detail; I wanted to leave you room to picture whatever you had in mind, especially if you happen to be struggling irl.

👩 Also, I wrote this as Fem!Reader because nothing was specified. I hope that's alright, anon! Thank you for your patience :)

♡ Happy Reading ♡

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

Jisoo

Discovered it after a few weeks of dating

She's amazing at reading people, so she had sensed that you were struggling with something; she just didn't know what. 

She wanted to wait for you to tell her about whatever it was, but one fateful day she witnessed something that explained it all. 

It wasn't meant to happen; she wasn't meant to see you like this. But, as fate would have it, Jisoo stumbled across something she never saw coming. 

Her footsteps grow louder as she walks her way through the house, peeking her head into various rooms in search of you. The two of you invited some of your mutual friends over, and they've all been curious as to where you slipped away to earlier.

"Baby, are you in here? Everyone's wonder--" 

The sound of the latch clicking out of place makes your heart drop and sets you into motion. Before you have enough time to fully react, though, Jisoo opens the bathroom door to find you sitting on the ground, attempting to shove a foreign substance into a plastic baggy. 

Your hands make quick work of moving it out of view and sitting up on your knees, but she picks up on what's going on. Her eyes land on the material as you shift it behind your body, looking up at her with wide eyes. 

"Jisoo--" Tears are already beginning to work their way into your eyes, slightly blurring your vision. Too many people have walked out on you after witnessing this, and the thought that she might go too is overwhelming. 

She keeps her tone level as she steps into the room and quietly shuts the door behind herself. "Y/N, please explain yourself." 

"I-I'm sorry Jisoo, I should've told you sooner." You shakily say, bringing a hand up to swipe away the few tears that've already leaked out. It's not usually like you to get so emotional so quickly, but seeing the pained look on her face is reason enough. 

"Come here," she utters, plopping down next to you and pulling you up against her body as she leans back on the side of the tub. Her fingers rub soothing circles on your back while you rest your head on her shoulder, lightly dampening the material of her shirt with your tears. "I'm not mad at you for this, but I need you to tell me about it. I want to help you, my love. I can't watch you hurt yourself like this." 

"Okay. Just promise you won't go," you softly say, the syllables of your words breaking here and there from the raw emotion you feel. 

"I'm not going anywhere, Y/N." She presses a light kiss to your temple for reassurance, and her heart breaks when she feels your hands grip at her clothes out of habit. How many times have people told you that and still left you in your time of need? She cradles you in her arms, realizing just how fragile you are in your current state, and tells you to take your time. 

With a steadying breath, you begin to explain your struggles. 

Road To Recovery

Constant check-ins

"Hey honey, we're at the studio now. Are you taking care of yourself for me?"

Helps you deal with the symptoms of withdrawal when they hit

Focuses on distraction and redirection as ways to help you cope

If you're at a party and feel tempted after seeing someone use, she leads you away to distract you from the urge

Helps you find safe alternatives 

Celebrates the little victories

"Yes, Y/N, 4 and a half weeks clean is plenty reason to celebrate. Now mark it on the calendar and get over here so I can put this hat on you." 

Playdates at your local dog café to keep your mind occupied (and bringing Dalgomie so he can make new friends, of course)

Takes you indoor skydiving. She wanted to find a way to give you an adrenaline rush while still being able to participate with you, so that was a happy medium. She battled her fear of heights to do that with you.

Not letting you lose hope if you relapse

"You're not a burden, and I'm not letting you give up on yourself. Not after all the progress you've made. I believe in you." 

Accompanying you to rehab and recovery meetings, if you want her to

Bringing you your favorite snacks and candies when she picks you up

"I got you a little something," she smiles, leaning over the center console of the car to kiss your cheek. "You deserve a treat, baby." 

Whenever you decide to tell everyone about your struggles and recovery journey, she's right next to you for support 

Spends all the time she can with you

Early on, she would get really worried when you missed her calls or took a while to respond, but eventually she got over her fears to some degree

Still checks up on you when she's away for work

"Sorry for missing your call, Chu. Dalgom tried to kill me when I was giving him a bath and I couldn't get to the phone in time." 

Overall, just a very proud girlfriend who sticks by you no matter what

After You've Recovered

Annual "recovery party" to commemorate your sobriety 

Sometimes you invite the girls and your other friends, and sometimes you prefer to just spend the day at home with Jisoo

"Look at how far you've come, my love. I'm so proud of you."

♡♡♡♡♡

Jennie

She would be the only one who figured it out on her own. She picked up on the signs fairly quickly and always subtly helped steer you away from any potentially tempting situations

If you two watched a movie that happened to have a triggering scene in it, she always noticed how you'd look away and subconsciously tense up a bit

"Hey, babe. This movie's kinda boring; why don't we watch that new Netflix documentary instead?" 

If the two of you were invited to parties that were likely to have a bunch of alcohol and drugs, sometimes she'd try to suggest staying in or doing something else instead

You eventually caught on to her diversion attempts, and sat down with her to have a talk. 

"How long have you known?" You ask, pulling your legs up towards your chest as you sit back against the headboard of your California King. 

"A few weeks," she starts, running a brush through her hair until it's untangled. Her damp locks stick to her shoulders as she approaches you, some strips slightly drier than others. "Were you ever gonna tell me?" She inquires softly, facing you as she sits down beside you on the bed. 

"Of course, Jen. I'm sorry that I didn't tell you sooner, I just… I was on my own with it before you. I didn't have anyone to turn to because everyone left once they found out." Your confession makes her chest ache -- it's a physical, honest pain that she feels as she imagines you battling such an unforgiving foe with no one in your corner. She places a warm hand on your thigh to comfort you, knowing just how much her touch helps when you're upset. "Hey, it's okay. There's no point in worrying about that now. I know it's hard to open up, babe, so thank you for doing this. I'm here to listen, alright?"

"Thank you, Jennie. I don't know what I'd do without you." 

"You'll never have to know, either, because I'm staying right here." 

"I love you," you whisper, leaning forward to press a kiss to her lips. 

"I love you, too," she sighs against you, preparing herself for the emotional night you're about to have. For now, she takes a moment to just pull you into her arms and rest her forehead against yours, finding comfort in your steady heartbeat. 

"We'll start whenever you're ready." 

Road To Recovery

Makes various arrangements to ensure that the media won't know of your struggles

Keeps things on lock, especially if you decide to remain private on the matter and not tell the world

If you make a public statement about it, she still does everything she can to keep you protected from the negativity. She knows first hand how tough it can be to deal with, so she never lets you face it alone

You both help each other work through things

"You're my rock, Y/N/N." 

"And you're my world, Jen."

Takes care of you during bouts of withdrawal 

Sings to you to calm you down and help you relax

Takes you to theme parks and rides all the big coasters with you so you can get a similar high that you did from the drugs. She gets to be clingy with you and spend the day having fun, so she doesn't mind it, and you enjoy it just the same.

Suggests fun activities for you to do together 

"We should visit that pottery place tomorrow! I've heard a lot of good things about it." 

You stick close together when you're in public, especially when paparazzi are near

Your presence helps with her anxiety, and you hold her close and tell jokes to keep her attention off of it

Random surprise celebrations waiting for you when you get home

"Hey Jen, I'm home." You announce, shrugging your coat off before hanging it up on the metal rack next to the front door. 

"In here," she calls from the kitchen, effectively pulling you in with that sweet voice of hers. When you reach the doorway and peek in, a dumbstruck smile slowly parts your lips as you see the set up she constructed. 

"Happy 3 Weeks" a multicolored banner reads, displaying the phrase above your dining room table where Jennie sits. "Surprise, honey," she says softly, glancing down at the cake she made for you as she scoots it closer. You approach the table and examine it, practically feeling your heart grow 10 sizes from the love you hold for your girlfriend. 

"Is this why you left practice early?" 

"Mhm," she nods, kissing your cheek before she reaches into a small gift bag next to her chair. "I'm so proud of you," she grins, sliding a thin, glittery headband into your hair. It has two springs attached to the top that bounce in every direction possible, surely making you look like a dork. 

"God, I love you." 

"You'd better keep that same energy after trying the cake. I think I might've added too much baking soda…"

You shake your head and pull her in, pressing kiss after kiss to her lips until she's grinning just as hard as you. 

Going on adventures with Kuma and Kai

Especially to dog parks and other national parks 

Helps you fill things out for rehab and doesn't let you get too stressed about it

Helps you regain confidence in yourself if you relapse

"This isn't the end, Y/N. You're strong, I know you can beat this."

Is right next to you through it all

After You've Recovered

Go on an annual vacation to get away from everything and celebrate your sobriety. You take the opportunity to escape the media and reconnect with each other

"Where to this year, Y/N? Bora Bora, maybe?"

Intimate celebration between the two of you on vacation, and then the girls throw you a party when you come back

♡♡♡♡♡

Rosé

You were really good at hiding your secret from people -- especially those that you care about most. You're always afraid that once they find out, they'll pack up and leave. 

Rosé was one of the first to actually stay

She had been fairly oblivious to your struggles since you masked that side of yourself well, but one day the two of you attended a little get-together at your old friend's house, and your dirty laundry was aired.

"Bro, come on, let's play Truth or Dare!" One of your old friends says, perking up at the fact that he remembered the game even existed. He's already a little tipsy, but so are some of the others. 

"I don't know, dude," you hesitantly start, missing the way that Rosé curiously raises a brow beside you. 

"Come on, we'll keep it tame." Another person adds from the couch opposite you, their voice low. You recognize her as Cho, a sort of frenemy from your high school years. Something doesn't sit right for you with the hint of mischief that shines in her eyes, but your friends' pleas eventually push the feeling away and you relent. 

"Fine, but if Austin gets dared to do some dumb shit like last time I'm dropping out." 

"Like what?" 

"Like what?" You ask back, disbelief evident in your voice. "Are you forgetting the fact that I had to bail you out after you got arrested for streaking down the neighborhood?" 

"Okay, fair point," Austin holds his hands up in surrender. "Just a few rounds." 

--

As everyone's once boisterous laughter finally dies down into quiet chuckles, you turn to Rosé for a quick kiss. She reciprocates and holds you there for a few more seconds, loving the way your lips feel against her own. As you brush your nose against hers and garner a sweet giggle from her, Cho interrupts the moment with a phrase that makes your blood run cold. 

"So, Rosé, has Y/N told you about the time she got arrested for drug possession? Word on the street is that she still can't shake her old habit..." 

Rosie feels the way you tense up at the question and pull away from her, cringing at the exposure you just received. The room goes silent, enabling a pen to be heard if it were dropped. 

"Hey," Austin goes to defend you, about to yell at her for bringing up such a difficult topic. 

"It's fine, Austin," you say, sticking your hand out in front of him to keep him from approaching her. The last thing you want right now is a screaming match about your struggles. 

Rosie finally speaks up after what feels like an eternity, turning to Cho to say, "No, but that's none of your business. And I strongly advise that you don't speak on her name like that again." She cuts her eyes at the other girl, sending an icy glare at her to show that she's serious before giving her attention to you again. 

When a few tense moments pass with no one really saying anything, Jackson, the host, speaks up. "I think you need to go, Cho." 

"Ah, what a shame. The fun was just starting," she mockingly pouts, stopping next to you on her way out the door. Rosé strokes the back of your hand to soothe you, tracing mindless patterns with her thumb until your shoulders relax and you look into her eyes. With Cho now gone, your friends decide to go out into the backyard and give the two of you some time to clear things up. 

"So, I guess we should talk." You start, pulling your legs up onto the couch to sit criss-cross. She studies the way that you begin to nervously fidget and drop eye contact, and the sight breaks her heart. 

"Your past is your past, Y/N, and I won't ever judge you for it. I wish she wouldn't have brought it up like that -- I really wish she didn't," she says, emphasizing the word to remind you of how upset she is with Cho, "But I can tell that you're still struggling. I want to help you get better, and I'll be here with you every step of the way, babe. You mean the world to me." She smiles sadly, trying not to think of how much it would hurt to lose you. 

"Okay," you breathe out, accepting the honest help that she's extending to you. You've been burned and lied to in the past, but you trust Rosé to stay true to her word and assist you on the hard journey laid out before you. "Let's start from the beginning," you say, preparing yourself to retell your struggles from the moment they began all those years ago. 

Road To Recovery

Takes care of you when withdrawal hits hard

Isn't afraid to take the day off if it's bad enough and she needs to

"Hey, Teddy. Tell everyone that I'll be staying home today, okay? I've already let the girls know, too." 

Reassurance to the max

"You're doing amazing."

Is your shoulder to cry on when times get tough

On a weekend trip, the two of you snuck away to the beach to go cliff diving. It was a thrilling experience, and you'll always remember that day with her

Helps you find healthier alternatives to your addiction that can make the transition easier until you fully recover

"Baby, look at this." She says, repositioning her laptop so that you can see what she's looking at. The two of you are sitting on the bed, and her legs are stretched out over yours. "These herbs are safe to smoke and they can help with a lot of your troubles. These over here," she says, pointing to a section of the screen, "help with stress and anxiety. They make it easier to relax." You nod, logging the information in your brain as you run a hand over her smooth skin to keep yourself calm. It's a habit that both of you love. "Thank you, Rosie. Nobody's ever done anything like this for me." You say, keeping your head down as you remember all the people that have left you behind in your time of need. 

"You'd do the same for me, and I'm happy to be here for you." She declares, holding one of your hands within both of her own. She cradles it delicately, just like she does your heart. "I'll do whatever it takes to make you feel my love. I'm not going anywhere, babe." She leans in, connecting your lips in a sweet kiss. 

Keeps your spirits up if you relapse

"You're not a failure, Y/N/N. This is just a setback, and we're going to get through it together."

One of her friends told her about a fun art class that's supposed to help people in recovery let go of some of their resentment and negative feelings, so she brought it up and you agreed to go

It was structured in two parts:

Part 1: Everyone went out to an old car lot that had various old vehicles, electronics, and other things to smash up. Once you let loose and relieved some of your tension, you collected scraps of the things you destroyed.

Part 2: With the scraps you brought back, you were told to create any type of artwork you wanted -- whatever felt right. Collage, graffiti, scrapbook, etc. At the end of the class, you were informed of the driving message behind it: Though the negative feelings and aversions you dealt with in the past may have left you feeling broken, you never really were -- you've always had the power to piece yourself back together and continue on.

After You've Recovered

Taking a month off work every year to travel and experience new things together. Usually consists of going to another city (or even country) and exploring their art museums and other artistics outlets 

The new experiences help remind you off all the reasons you want to stay sober, and they help her have new material for her songs

Lots of pictures and drawings to remember all of your adventures

Collect trinkets to hang up / display, especially around the holidays

The girls have a special celebration waiting for you when you return

♡♡♡♡♡

Lisa

She could tell something was wrong when your behavior started to change over the course of a couple weeks

She suspected other things, but after finding a substance in your bag while on a vacation trip, she was blind sided by the reality of the situation

"Hey Lis, have you seen my swimsuit?" You casually ask, strolling into your hotel bedroom in search of the item. "I thought I left it--"

Your words catch harshly in your throat, nearly making you choke from how quickly you cut yourself off. She's sitting on the edge of the bed with the baggy in her hands, and tears brim in her eyes. 

"Fuck," you wince, closing your eyes as you put your face in your hands. "You weren't supposed to find out like this."

"Why didn't you tell me?" She asks, staring straight ahead, though her eyes don't focus on anything in particular. Knowing you hurt her is bad enough, but seeing her like this makes the pain even more evident. 

"I was going to, I promise. But I've been trying to wean myself off of it," you begin to explain, slowly walking across the room until you're in front of her. You squat down and put your hands on her thighs, staying quiet until she meets your gaze. "I've tried to quit cold turkey in the past but it didn't go down well. I figured I could handle this on my own and not get you involved."

"Baby, I want to be involved. You've been different lately, and having you shut me out didn't help ease my fears. I want to be a part of this, okay? You can turn to me when you feel alone," she says through the occasional tears that roll down her cheeks, "It's my job to help you and keep you safe. So let me," she crouches down next to you as she says the last part, wrapping her arms around you when she notices your lip tremble. "I'm not gonna let this get between us," she says against your shoulder, reminding you of how strong her love for you is. 

"I'm sorry I waited so long," your words are muffled against her shirt, but she can hear how the emotion in them changes your voice slightly. 

"We have to start somewhere, and this is just as good a time as any. I'm right here, Y/N/N."

Road To Recovery

Sweet texts and reminders throughout the day

"Hey baby, have you eaten today? The girls and I miss you like crazy." 

--

"Don't forget about your check-up tomorrow. I already told my manager that I'll be taking the day off, so I'm all yours 😉"

--

"*image attachment* Question: Do you think Lego would look cute in this or do you think Lego would look cute in this? Because he WOULD." 

Stargazing trips to talk about how far you've come

Making treats for the cats together if you have a bad day

Sometimes your withdrawal leaves you with weird cravings, but she never hesitates to race to the store at any hour and snatch up your favorite treats

Learning how to cook together to keep you occupied and give you a hobby (plus she's always wanted to get better at it)

“If you fling that at me, I swear to God I'll--”

"Oops!"

"LISA!" 

Day trips to random parks and open locations to have little photoshoots when she has free days

Once took you bungee jumping for the experience and adrenaline rush

Bringing you into the studio if you're having a hard time and don't want to be alone

Always listens to you and shows how much she cares

Opts out of events if she suspects that drugs will be there to tempt you (considering you're always her plus one)

You still send her to enjoy herself at the events without you sometimes, though it does take a lot to convince her to leave you at home

"Okay, okay! But we're binging that new show when I get back." 

Makes you laugh often and cheers you up when you need it most

She's your sunshine

After You've Recovered

Considering that you're her muse and she's the artist that she is, she hatched a plan early on to document your journey to recovery

"One more, babe. Just like that." She instructs, holding the camera up to her eye one final time. "Perfect." 

"Alright, close your eyes and turn around." She commands while returning to the coffee table that sits in the middle of your living room. Her hands make quick work of putting the finishing touches on her gift for you while you patiently sway and hum to whatever song is stuck in your head at the moment. 

"Annnnnd done!" She shouts, approaching you with a wide smile tugging at her lips as she holds the book out in front of herself. "It's a photo album. I started it the day you told me you wanted to try and get better," she says, smiling softly as she slowly walks you through the beginning pages of the book. "I thought it would be nice to see how far you've come," her eyes remain glued to the pictures she took as she continues flipping, and she fails to realize that you're staring at her now. 

"I'm so in love with you. I can't thank you enough, Lis. This is beautiful." You shake your head in quiet disbelief, genuinely surprised that someone would work so hard on something for you. It shouldn't be a surprise with her though, considering how much she loves you, but it still baffles you sometimes. 

"This gift only shows a fraction of my love for you, but I'm happy you like it. This is nothing, baby; there's so much more where this came from. Thank you for letting me in." She captures your lips in a meaningful kiss, and finds it hard to pull away. You seem to be her drug of choice, but neither of you care to end that sweet addiction.

Annual trips to photoshoots and fashion shows

Being her favorite model (seriously, she could look at you for hours on end)

Always feeling so loved and cherished, no matter what the two of you are doing

[rogue-durin-16]

OUT OF TROUBLE

Summary: After a Quidditch match, both George and Y/n sneaked out to grab a drink at the Three Broomsticks with their respective teammates. The tension between the two groups might end up causing more trouble than imagined.

Pairing: George Weasley x Slytherin!Reader

Genre: kinda angsty kinda fluffy

Tags:

George Weasley: @meph1stophelian

Permanent taglist: @elia-the-bibliophile @randomparanoid @karlthecat15722 @thebutchersdaughtersblog @amourtentiaa @just-here-to-escape-from-reality @skarlettmikaelson

Warnings: blood, injuries, violence, concussion, language (?)

A/N: idk what to say apart from the idea of George losing his shit big time won't leave me alone and idek why (blaming it on that scene in the Order of the Phoenix in which George and Harry beat Malfoy the fuck up) so enjoy <3

Rogue-durin-16 masterlist

"Well," McGonagall's severe eyes scrutinized all six of us from the other side of her desk. "who is going to give us" she briefly motioned at Snape, who stood by her side with an unimpressed yet disappointed look on his face. "a proper explanation of why Madam Rosmerta so kindly let us know that not only seven of our seventh year students were on Hogsmeade without permission,"

"But also making a scene and coming to blows." Snape finished, quirking a brow. "Do you know how lucky you are that Madam Rosmerta picked on the fact that you were students?" The potions teacher's eyes fixed on the three Gryffindors before inquiring, "Who started it?"

Silence.

"Merlin's— There is a student in the hospital wing!" McGonagall exclaimed outraged. "You all ought to come clean about this one."

More silence.

"Mister Weasley, you seem to be unusually quiet." The Head of Slytherin pointed out.

"Well, you see, professor," George's head, which had until that moment been resting on his arms over the school desk, was tilted up slightly. "I've got a bit of a headache going on." He motioned at the back of his head, in which a patch of dried blood had glued his hair.

"Weasley, I must insist on you to go see Madam Pomfrey." McGonagall's tone, although remaining severe, softened a bit.

"Nah, 's not that bad." George gave Warrington a side look and forced himself to sit upright.

"I'm going to ask again." Snape spoke. "Who started it?" He weighed the possibilities before inquiring, "Mister Weasley?"

"Why me?!" George flinched at his own shouting.

"Do you want me to believe the state Mister Montague was left in was Miss Spinnet's doing? Miss Bell's, perhaps?" The Gryffindor girls grumbled under their breaths, catching the professor's attention. "What was that?"

"I said why us?" Katie questioned with a tinge of indignation. "Is it because we're Gryffindors?"

"Obviously." Snape spat, earning a roll from Mcgonagall, though she didn't oppose her colleague.

Alicia only laughed humorlessly and folded her arms over her chest.

"We can stay here all night, if you'd like it that way." McGonagall stated after around five minutes of just silence.

"Ugh, fine." George let his head fall in the comfort of his forearms again and groaned, "it was me— I started it. Can we go now?"

"What the hell?!"

"Miss Spinnet!" McGonagall scolded her, stomping her desk.

"Can we go now or not?" George's eyes met my shocked gaze briefly.

"Everyone but you, Mister Weasley." McGonagall stated.

"Wait, no." I tapped my foot nervously against the tiles and took at deep breath. "It wasn't him, it was me."

"Miss Y/l/n!" I refused to meet McGonagall's and Snape's face, so I left my eyes casted down, but I still heard the professors' quiet whispers. "What on Godric's name happened?"

Two Hours Earlier

After a Quidditch victory in Slytherin's favor, some of us had resolved to sneak out of the castle and go celebrate with a drink in Hogsmeade.

Turns out some Gryffindors had had the same idea, though the drink they were having was definitely not a celebration.

"Look who's here," Montague nodded in the Gryffindors direction, purposefully walking in their direction. "You're missing half of the team!" He chuckled, not stopping more than a couple of seconds. "Are they crying on their dorms?"

"Get lost, Montague." Katie Bell spat, earning faces from both Graham and Cassius. Alicia Spinnet flipped us off, and George limited himself to give me a small wave, which I returned with a little smile.

"How's the place this crowed?" Kevin questioned with a frown as we tried and failed to find an empty booth.

"No idea." I replied, taking a look around. "I'll go grab the drinks, you look for a place, yeah?" Cassius nodded and I made my way to the counter; I could feel Bell's and Spinnet's dirty looks on me while I ordered the butter beers.

"Celebrating, are we?" My head turned to meet George's form, leaning on the counter besides me.

"Yup." I shortly answered with a proud grin.

"You're missing your seeker." I rolled my eyes at his comment. "I wonder where he's at."

"You know where he's at." I quirked my brow when he played dumb, a smug smile dancing on his lips. "I'm very aware it was you who sent him to the hospital wing."

"It was actually a bludger." He pointed out, giving Madam Rosmerta the coins for a butter beer.

"Oi, what are you doing?" I attempted to shove his hand away, but there was no use.

"Smoothly buying you a drink?" He winked and I felt blood going up to my cheeks. "Just her drink, though." He added, looking at Rosmerta.

"No you're not— he's not." The owner of the Three Broomsticks gave us a look but ended up accepting my money instead.

"Aw c'mon, Y/n" George pouted while Rosmerta passed me the drinks. "I've just lost an important match, let me have a win?"

"You can buy me the next drink," I resolved, chuckling at the way his expression lighted up. "but only if you don't cause trouble."

"Pfft I'm too depressed to cause trouble." I could tell he wasn't joking, though he still made it sound humorous. "Need help with that?" He motioned at the four drinks I was attempting to grab.

"No she doesn't."

George visibly grimaced at the sight of Cassius but, instead of snapping at him, he only leaned on me and pecked my cheek after saying, "No trouble, see?"

"Piss off, Weasley."

"No need to be that rude." I spat, taking two glasses in my hand.

"No need to consort with the enemy." He responded, picking up the remaining jars.

We approached the spot our Quidditch team had taken and had a surprisingly uneventful good time, until Montague started to run his mouth.

"Look at them, they're so pathetic." He obnoxiously laughed.

"Look at whom?" I questioned, a bit lost in my thoughts to know what he was even talking about.

"Don't play dumb." He hissed. "As if you haven't been staring at that Weasel since we entered."

"Ugh, honestly Graham." I lazily played with my jar. "Can't we just enjoy the drink without focusing on the only three Gryffindors in the room?"

"You're one to talk." Cassius mumbled.

"Meaning?"

"Graham's right, you've been staring at him." I pinched the bridge of my nose. They've done this little number so many times that I was no longer embarrassed. "What was that kiss about?"

"Cassius!"

"What kiss?" Graham inquired.

"He kissed her."

"Oh my gosh—" I threw my head down to my forearms in desperation.

"Ew!" Kevin gagged dramatically. "Did you let a blood traitor kiss you with that filthy mouth?"

"You did not just say that." My tone held a serious warning as I looked up at our keeper.

"Great, he's staring." Cassius grumbled.

"Frankly, he could use a lesson." My eyes widened at Graham's words; at first I thought he was joking, but then he grabbed his wand with a wicked smirk.

"Don't make a bloody number." I whispered. "We'll get in trouble."

"Y/l/n, I'm starting to think you're not on our side."

"Montague, if you earn us detention—" my words were cut off by another statement of his.

"No one's gonna know if we're sneaky enough." I looked at Bletchley and Warrington for some back up but they both seemed to be on board with Montague's plan. "What about a little... cruci—" before he could finish the word, I kicked his chair, making him fall to the floor.

"What's wrong with you?!" I shouted, kicking his wand away after standing up myself.

"Y/n, calm down." Cassius said.

"He was gonna use the Cruciatus, so maybe no?!"

"Careful, Y/n." By then, Montague had already gotten up; Bletchley had to tug him back for him not to go against me. "If you get along with scum, you're scum."

I didn't fully realise that I had slapped him until I heard a few people gasping; all from sudden, I was very aware that I had attracted unwanted attention.

There was a moment of tense silence between Montague and me, quickly followed by him grabbing my hair and hitting my face against the table, too fast for me to do anything about it.

"OI!" Cassius pulled me away from Montague, my hands covering my most likely broken nose, debating on whether to hold it to stop the nosebleed or not touching it to avoid more pain.

GEORGE'S P. O. V.

"They're talking shit." Katie whispered, squinting her eyes at the Slytherins.

"Of course they're talking shit." I responded.

"I'd love to go there and shove those—" Alicia grumbled, tightening the grip on her glass.

"Don't." They both looked at me expectant and I only shrugged. "Y/n asked me not to cause trouble."

Alicia snorted when my eyes travelled to Y/n and Katie mocked me with a silly grin. "Awww, Alicia, he's in love."

"George Weasley is in love" Alicia faked a gag. "With a Slytherin."

"Oh my— you're two shut up." I felt blush creeping up my neck, though I couldn't help the smile twitching up the corners of my lips.

"I mean," Katie shrugged, sharing a look with our friend. "Could be worse."

"Could be Warrington." Before I could respond to Alicia, a loud noise was heard behind me. "Ooooh your princess just kicked Montague." Our chaser commented; we all turned around to look at the Slytherins. "This is gonna be fun."

"Why do I feel like they're talking about us?" I said with a laugh.

"Did... Did she just say 'cruciatus'?" Katie questioned, a tinge of worry in her voice.

"Damn! Okay, time to go." Alicia whispered, getting up right after Y/n had slapped Montague. Katie and I were already following her to the exit when a thud made us stop in our tracks.

"He did not—" Katie started.

"He did." Alicia replied; she was quick to double check on me, but I was quicker to stalk towards Montague. "George no!"

READER'S P. O. V.

I came to the conclusion that we were already in trouble, so I might as well go for it and get Montague back.

Cassius saw that coming and held me back by my forearms, but Graham was being pushed against the table behind him in the blink of an eye.

It took us all aback the way George had stormed in scene; we stood there frozen for a hot second, until Bletchley realised Montague was trying to shake George off in vain while the Gryffindor threw blows at him whilst tackling him to the table.

"George! Stop!" Alicia yelled, coming to stand by my side, unsure of what to do.

"Get off him!" The keeper was the first one to try and remove George from Graham, whose face was starting to look as bloodied as mine. He did succeed for a split second, giving the Slytherin chaser enough room to get back at George.

I shook Cassius off the moment Montague jumped on George to aid the ginger, but before I could do anything, he was punching Graham again, though now he sported a swollen lip himself, along with a cut on his cheek, probably caused by Graham's rings.

This time, when Bletchley tried to shove him off Montague, he ended up with George's elbow digging into his stomach.

"He's gonna kill him!" Bell exclaimed, genuinely worried about the outcome.

"George!" I called his name, hoping it would have an effect, but the beater was too lost on the fight. "Wait— No!!" I tried to grab Cassius' hand when I saw him reaching for one of the heavy jars, but he was quicker to crash it on George's crown.

He hissed, losing balance instantly; his hands went to the back of his head, releasing Montague from his hold. My teammate took the opportunity to kick him off, but before he could try to punch George again, I reached to them, pulling the ginger away and not so accidentally stomping on my Montague in the process.

Just when everything seemed to have calmed down, I noticed Spinnet had thrown herself to Cassius.

Bell was struggling to tug her friend away, Cassius was being pulled back by a mildly hurt Bletchley, Montague was curled up in a ball on the floor and George and I stayed knelt not far from him while I checked his head.

It was only when Madam Rosmerta appeared with a towering, strong employee who managed to separate Spinnet and Warrington that it came to an end.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Graham tried to use the Cruciatus curse on George, professor." I explained without meeting McGonagall's eyes. "And I stopped him."

"He— he what?!" The Head of Gryffindor yelled horrified.

"Miss Y/l/n, did you send Mister Montague to the hospital wing?" Snape questioned wearily.

"That was me." George replied before I could make anything up. "And Warrington broke a glass on my head."

"Spinnet tried to kill me!" Warrington shouted.

"If I had wanted to kill you, you'd be dead!" Alicia yelled back.

"Don't lie to yourself darling!" Bletchley hissed.

"Don't 'darling' her dickhead, I'll jump on you right here!" Bell spat, leaning over her table.

"Shut up, Bell!"

"ENOUGH!" McGonagall shouted. "Fifty points will be substracted from each of you. Your families will be informed of this, and needless to say you won't make any more trips to Hogsmeade."

"Minerva, I think Weasley has earned himself detention for the rest of the year." Snape commented.

"And so did Mister Montague and Miss Y/l/n." She responded. "Now off to sleep, all of you— except from Weasley and Y/l/n, you two go see Madam Pomfrey— no but's, Weasley."

"Yes professor." George sighed, getting up and following me out of the class and into the corridor. "You okay?" His voice was so soft as he fell into step with me that I had to refrain myself from kissing him.

"Nose's probably broken." I shrugged, stealing a look at his crown. "How's your head?"

"Hurts a bit." He was obviously playing it off, but I didn't say a thing about it. "I'm sorry for that little number."

"Nonsense! As if it was your fault Montague's a douche." I reassured him.

"So... you're not mad at me?"

"I'm only mad at the fact that I didn't get to punch him." I replied with a chuckle triggering a smile on his. "Plus," I chewed on my lower lip, hesitating for a moment before adding, "it was kinda hot."

George let out a shocked snort, his whole face redder than mine while words stumbled incoherently out of his mouth, preventing him from forming a coherent sentence.

"Don't do it again, though."

"Uh- yeah— NO- I mean, no- I-I won't— I don't do this often—" I giggled at his stammering and brushed his pinky with my own. He cleared his throat and took the hint, intertwining his fingers with mines. "You know, technically it was you who caused trouble so..."

"So?"

"Can I still buy you a drink?" He sheepishly requested, his thumb drawing circles on the back of my hand while we reached the hospital wing.

"We're banned from Hogsmeade, though." I reminded him.

"Well, I might know a way of getting there without being noticed."

"I'm in then." I stated. "Only if you promise we'll stay out of trouble."

"Can't promise that." He squeezed my hand and let it go when Madam Pomfrey spotted us. "But I'll do my best."

"I'm sure you will." I tugged on his sleeve and placed a kiss on his cheek before following the healer's directions.

[petite-ely]

Afraid // JJ Maybank

Six - Too much to risk

Pairing: JJ Maybank x fem routledge! reader

Warnings: Mention gun, being shot at, swearing, slight mention of death, maybe some mistakes oopsie, tell me if I missed something

Description: A small improvised visits by Petekin leads to a hectic afternoon in the marsh.

A/n : Hellooo guys, gals and pals, this is quite a long part. I really wanted to finish the first episode. also I really don’t know how to had a little read mor thing I don’t know how. Sorry! hope you like it!

Previously next

Afraid masterlist

gif by @robinsbuckly

Song recommendation

It was now far later in the morning, meaning the sun had fully risen and it was a much more reasonable hour to be up at. JJ had left a while ago and John B was still peacefully sleeping (and loudly snoring). Y/n hadn’t been able to go to sleep after her talk with the blond boy and she was now sitting on the couch reading her book (actually reading this time). So, when she heard the front door open, she didn’t bother looking up, assuming it was one of her friends. Who else would just come in like that anyway?

"Hey, there’s coffee made in the kitchen if you want any,” she said, still not pulling her gaze of off her book.

“That’s kind of you to offer, but I’ve already had two cups this morning, I don’t think it would be reasonable for me to have more.” Y/n’s book fell to the ground.  

“Sheriff Peterkin, I’m so sorry. I-I thought you were someone else-” she got up from her seat, “-do you, do you need anything, water or uh-”

“You don’t have to bother sweetheart, I’m not planning on staying that long. I just want to talk for a bit,” answered the adult.

“Okay,” she took a pause to swallow. “I’ll go get John B.”

“If you don’t mind, I’ll go get him myself.” Y/n nodded, watching as she disappeared into the hallway leading to her brother’s room.  

She started pacing around the living room, ferociously biting the nails on her left hand. It wasn’t every day a cop showed up in your house. She had absolutely no idea why Peterkin would want to talk. Actually, she had about 25 different ideas, starting with the fact her uncle hadn’t been on the island for about 3 months. And the party last night, what if she knew about the gun? Would JJ be in trouble? Whatever it was, it wasn’t good, that she was certain of it.

>>

The conversation went on for much longer than expected. Basically, Peterkin knew about their uncle being awol and she offered to help get  dcs off of their back for a while if they helped her in return. She had also mentioned that it wouldn’t be good if they had seen a shipwreck, which of course they denied despite that being actually true. Y/n didn’t fully understand what Peterkin meant. But she knew that it meant there was something valuable in that boat. And Jonh B knew it too. Yet, he was afraid, which was understandable, considering everything. They were pretty much guaranteed to be put in foster care if they got caught. Not good at all.

“You know what? I'm calling it off,” announced John B.

Y/n raised her head from her sketchbook, dropping her pencil on the low table in front of her to listen to what her brother had to say. She had been drawing silently while the other pogues, all sitting in different ridiculous positions across the backyard, talked and did their own things. She was only half listening to what they were saying, sketching messily the outline of the château. It wasn't very good, but it was calming to do. When she heard the seriousness in her brother’s tone, she closed her sketchbook, otherwise she’d be too distracted.

“Peterkin told us that if we stayed out of the marsh, she’d help with dcs.” The girl grimaced remembering the woman’s words.  

“And you believed her?” “Yes, JJ I believed her.”

“You really think that she’d help us?” asked y/n. “It’s been more than 6 months, bird. If she really wanted to help, she would have helped earlier, no?”  

“Yeah, she’s a cop, an actual cop. And you think she’s telling the truth?” added JJ.

“Look,” John B glanced at y/n. “All we gotta do is stay out of the marsh for a couple days and she’ll help us.”

“I know, I was there.” Kiara snickered softly at her friend’s words. “But I don’t know, I feel like we’re getting tricked or something. What if she’s like trying to lure us out of there-” she gestured to the water behind them, “-because there’s something she doesn’t want us to see, uh? What if it’s about dad?”  

J.B rubbed the back of his neck before turning his body slightly to face the ocean. “Look,” he addressed his sister. “I get that you’re curious and you want to know what’s down there, but I'm only trying to do what’s best for us. And I think it would be better if we listened to Peterkin. I’m just trying to keep you safe, to protect you, bug.” His voice softened as he finished his sentence.

“And it didn’t help that JJ was shooting a gun last night!” Y/n raised her eyebrows at Pope, her face clearly showing intrigue. She wondered where this conversation would lead, a fight between the two boys most likely. Her gaze shifted to JJ who seemed annoyed at the Routledge boy’s words.

“You know what, I should’ve let Topper drown your ass.” John B laughed. “Topper was gonna drown me?” “Sure looked like it.”

“Boys can you plea-” Y/n tried to stop the small bickers, miserably failing as her brother interrupted her. “Funny.” A loud sigh escaped the girl’s lips and Kiara beside her pinched the bridge of her nose.

“Have you looked in a mirror?” “Tell me some more. Come on.” “They always win don’t they, man?”

“Kooks versus pogues. They always, always win!” You could hear the frustration dripping from his voice. Which was understandable. He had a point, kooks always won, it was time for a change.

“Goddamn!” “Look, it’s okay!” Kie tried to reassure him. “No, it’s not okay!”

“He’s right,” agreed y/n. “They always win, or find a way to avoid the consequences.”

“Exactly, they don’t want us to go down into the marsh, that means there's something valuable down there and you know it.” He said to John B. “I know you do.”

“And I understand why you wouldn’t want to go,” he pointed to Pope. “You’re the golden boy, you got way too much to risk. And you,” he turned to Kiara. “I mean you’re already rich as fuck anyway.” Okay, that was an exaggeration.

“Why would you bother.”

“But us, you, me and y/n, we’ve got nothing to lose!” His eyes glowed with something y/n hadn’t seen in him in a long time. Hope. It made her sad to think about how JJ really had nothing in his life besides the pogues. But if he was hopeful, then maybe, maybe...

“We really don’t.” “Yes, we do have something to lose.”

“If something goes wrong and dcs comes in, y/n and I would be brought to the mainland in foster care. That means placed with families who probably only care about the check that comes in every month and her and I getting separated from one another and from you guys.”

Y/n thought about what her brother had just said. He had a point, if things went wrong, they could lose everything. Each other mainly and the pogues. It was the worst-case scenario. But if they didn’t get caught, it would make their life so much better. Was it worth all the risk though? That was the question.

“Do you understand what that means? How horrible it would be?” The girl got up from her seat and went to stand next to her brother. “I do,” she said. “I understand, bird.”

“I know that you’re scared and so am I.  It’s a pretty big risk. If we get caught, we’re fucked, but listen to what JJ has to say. I think that it might be worth the risk. And if we do get caught-,” she put her hand on his shoulder and turned him around so that he faced her, “we’ll find a way to find each other again. We’re Routledges, we always find a way to solve our problems, don’t we?” Her hand squeezed his shoulder softly. “We’re gonna be alright, bird.”

A small smile drew itself on John B’s lips. “So, what’s the plan,” he said to JJ.

“You got the key to Cameron’s big boat, right?” “No,” J. B’s face scrunched in disagreement.

“There’s scuba gear. We borrow that and then we go down to the wreck this afternoon and that’s what’s gonna save you, man,” exclaimed JJ. “You don’t see rich kids going into foster care, do you?”

Y/n breathed out loudly. She was scared as hell. This was going to be pretty tricky, but she knew something was down there. And if it wasn’t money or something like that, then it was something related to her dad’s disappearance. She could feel it deep into her soul.

>>>

“This is empty, you took empty tanks,” announced Kiara to the group as she furrowed through the bag of oxygen tanks.

Y/n put her head in her hands. Their plan had seemed so perfect and now they didn’t have the one thing they needed for it to work.

“Okay this one’s a quarter full. It’s enough for one of us.” “Love it when a plan comes together.”

“Does anybody know how to dive?” asked the brunette but only to be answered by a chorus of shrugs and denying nods. “Anybody?”

“It’s kind of a kook sport,” JJ looked at her.

“I, … I read about it,” tried Pope.  

“Great, Pope read about it, now someone’s gonna die,” exclaimed Kie dramatically.

“Look.” JJ’s gaze circled the group of friends.  “You put the thing in your mouth and you breathe. How hard can it be?”  

“I don’t think it’s that simple,” confessed y/n.

“Yeah,” agreed Pope. “If you come up too fast, Nitrogen gets in your blood and you get the bends.”

The girl’s eyes widened. She remembered a book she had read a while ago where one of the characters had the decompression sickness (and how tragic their death was).  

“Bends like bend over?” JJ joked as he bent his body in a way to stick his butt up in the air. Typical JJ joke, weird and somehow always a bit sexual. Y/n slapped his arm as a way to tell him off.  

“JJ, the bends is deadly,” she had a stern expression, “it kills you.” “Oh, right.”

“I can- I can dive,” announced J.B. “Yeah, you can dive I’m cool with that.” “Since when can you dive?”  

“No, you can’t dive,” scoffed his sister. “I’ll do it, it’s fine.” “What? The hell?”

“Let’s do some calculations real quick.” Pope pulled out a pen and started writing some numbers. Y/n got up from her seat and went to stand beside him. “So, that boat’s about 30 feet down.” “okay.” “So, it’ll take about 25 minutes at most at that depth.” “Twenty-five.” “Which means you need to make your safety stop at about... 10 feet. Alright? For two minutes.” “Ten feet, two minutes got it.”

They all watched as Kiara jumped straight into the water, her shirt already removed. “Uh, what was that all about?” “I don’t know, but I liked it, a lot.” y/n nudged her brother on the shoulder to get him to stop staring. He cleared his throat.

“Uh, so.” “All righty.”

She sat down on the edge of the boat, waiting for her friend to resurface from underwater. “Yeah. Uh, when you- when you’re down there, you look for the cargo hold. You stick this thing inside and you twist and pull, okay,” explained JJ. “Stick it in, twist and pull.”

“You okay?” asked y/n, while the boys kept on rambling. “Needed a swim?” Kiara rolled her eyes, a small smile on her face.  

“Hey!” she called to guys, John b more specifically. “I tied my t-shirt to the anchor about ten feet down. It’s where you need to do your safety stop.”

The Routledge girl admired her friend in the water. Her body moving gracefully as she swam back towards the boat. She seemed so, at ease. It used to be that way for her too, but now, even looking into the darkest part of the water gave her a feeling of vertigo. She wondered if she could still swim as good as she used to. It had been almost a year since the last time she had dove right into the marsh. It felt so far away. If only she was braver.

She hadn’t realised she had completely zoned out until she heard JJ speak. “Zen. Think Zen, you know.” She joined the group on the other side of the hms, her brother already suited for his dive.

“Hey, if we get caught out here in the marsh we’re basically screwed, so,” reminded Pope, “better get a move on.” “Copy that.”

Kiara got up and planted a small kiss on J. B’s cheek. Y/n looked at the two boys next to her with a confused expression. They both shrugged in answer, clearly just as confused as she was. “Diver down?” “Diver down.” She watched as his figure disappeared slowly into the water.

“All right.” “See ya, dude.”

She went to sit next to Kie. “I only love him as a brother,” she mocked her friend. “Yeah right, my ass.”  

“It’s just a small kiss y/n/n, it doesn’t mean anything. I still mean what I said yesterday. It’s just that,” she took a pause, her eyes squinting at the sun, “I’m just worried for him, you know he’s going through a lot and then there’s the shipwreck and all.”

“Uh huh, I totally get what you mean,” ironized y/n. “Shut up,” Kie nudged her with her elbow. “No, but seriously-” started the girl before being interrupted by the sound of a police siren behind her.

“Shit, guys.” “Guys, that’s the police.”

“Oh no, no, no, no, no, that is not good. Not good at all.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” “Yep that’s the police.” “Just act fricking normal.”

Anxiety bubbled at the pit of y/n’s stomach. Hopefully he wouldn’t recognize her, otherwise she was dead. So dead. She sat down beside Kiara in a somewhat natural position, her legs crossed to keep them from bouncing.

The police boat parked itself beside the hms. Officer Shoupe behind the wheel. “Evenin’ officers,” greeted Pope. “Evening.”

“How you kids doin’ ,” asked Shoupe. “You know the marsh is closed.”

“No.” “No.” “No, wow.” “I didn’t know that.” They all feigned ignorance, hoping to fool the two adults. “Why- why is it closed?” questioned Pope, adjusting his cap nervously.

“Well, we’re conducting a search out here,” informed the man. “Boat went down.” “Oh.” “Oh, no.”

“Seen’ anything?” asked the deputy.

“No.” “No, boats. No.” Y/n’s fingers tapped rhythmically on the boat, trying to keep herself from looking at her brother in the water.

“Where’s your friend you always hang with?” The pace of the rhythm fastened. “He here?” She opened her mouth, trying to think of a good excuse for the missing presence of her brother, but nothing came out.

“He’s working,” lied Kie. All of their heads nodded softly.

“I’m gonna check your little boat out,” announced Shoupe before hopping on the hms. “Yeah.” “Yeah, hop aboard.” The rhythm stopped, y/n’s nails digging into her palms.

He picked up a safety jacket. “You got another one of these?” “Yeah, yeah.”

“Of course, it’s uh, it’s in the hold,” JJ pointed to where the girls were seated. They both got up quickly. “Show him,” instructed Kie. Y/n’s joints were turning white.

“Okay.” JJ opened the hold and pulled out one of the jackets. “Yeah, here we go.” “All right.” The latch closed loudly. Shoupe’s gaze inspected the teens suspiciously. The tension could be cut with a knife.

He climbed on the flat part of the boat. “Be careful.” “Be careful out there, you don’t want to slip.”

He put his sunglasses on, staring at the exact place where John B and the ship were. The pogues exchanged worried glances. Hopefully, he wouldn’t see anything. He stood on the very edge of the boat, his figure towering over the water of the marsh.

“All right,” he finally turned around. Y/n breathed again. “All right.” “All right.”

“Beautiful day, innit?” “Sure is.”

“You let us know if you see anything on your way out,” he ordered as he started the engine. “Will do, will do.”

“We’ll be gone soon, sir.” “Yes, you will,” finally said the man before he vogued away.

Once he was far enough, the group hurried to the side of the boat, all worried about their friend. He’d been under for quite a long time now, there was no way he had any air left.

“He’s definitely out of air,” declared Pope.

At that exact moment, John B surged out of the water. Y/n felt relief take over her body. She felt her whole body unclench and let go of the grip her nails had in her hand.

“There he is!” Exclaimed JJ. “Oh god, Jesus Christ.”

“God damn it, Bird. I’m so glad you’re okay,” spoke y/n.

“Don’t scare us like that!” All of the pogues exclaimed, all so happy that their friend was all right.

“How’d it go down there?” wondered JJ. “Uh,” John b groaned and his sister hurried to the side of the boat to help him get in.

“Did you find anything?”

“Did I find anything?” He repeated throwing a large duffel bag onto the boat.

“Yeah there we go, that’s my boy!” JJ exclaimed excitedly.

“Are you okay?” Y/n asked as he coughed rather loudly. “Yeah, I’m good, but I ran out of air.” Her eyebrows scrunched together on her forehead. God, they were so lucky, what if J.B had ran out of air earlier? Or what if Shoupe had figured out what they were doing? Things could have gotten so bad.

But they didn’t, the girl reminded herself.

“You scared the shit out of me,” confessed Kiara, though it sounded more like a reproach.

“Yeah, same for me,” replied y/n. “Need a hand?” she stuck her hand out at him which he gladly took. The contact of the water with the cuts her nails had made in her hands burned, but she clenched her jaw and ignored the pain. She didn’t want to bother anyone.

“Yeah, the cops were up here but uh, took care of ‘em,” informed Pope.

“My bad.” “You’re all good.” “Yeah, you kinda missed the show, brother.”

“Hey guys?” Kiara’s voice was tinted with worry. “Guys, bogey, two o-clock.”

“What?” They all turned in the direction she was referring to. In the distance they noticed a strange looking boat heading towards them.

“Do you recognize that boat?”

“I’ve never seen it.” Kie put her hand above her eyes to hide herself from the sun. “What are they doing back here? The marsh is closed.”

“Honestly, they could ask us the same thing,” pointed y/n.

“Well, I think it would be better if we didn’t stick around and find out,” said JJ.

“JJ, get the bowline.” “Yeah.”

“Should we wait on ‘em?” asked Pope.

“Uh, I don’t think that would be a great idea,” responded y/n. The boat was coming in very fast and the people driving it looked angry and dangerous. It was much safer to just leave. “Go get the stern, go!” Hurried John B.

The blonde pulled the rope as fast as he possibly could. “Guys, don’t wait for me. Go,” he said. Y/n inspected the unknown boat in the distance, nothing about it seemed familiar. Who could these people be? And what did they want from them? “Let’s go.”

She kept her eyes glued to it as the motor started. “I have a really bad feeling about this,” she confessed, turning her head to John B. behind the wheel. “Yeah, I don’t like this either,” agreed Pope.

“Are they coming for us?” asked JJ. “Sure looks like it.”  

“Maybe they’re fishing?” proposed Pope. Y/n’s gaze paused on the two men. They were intimidating, to say the least. And their eyes, both had looks filled with something threatening. It wasn’t anger or hatred, no, it was the eyes of people who would do anything to get what they wanted and that was scary.

“Go, go, go, go!” “Go into the marsh.” “Let’s go!”

“I’m going. Act natural,” stated John B as he directed the hms towards the nearest channel.  

The white boat sped up, the motor roaring loudly. “Hey guys, they’re following us,” announced y/n. “Oh, this can’t be good.” “Shit”

“Dude, you gotta go faster!” “I’m going!” “Gun it!”

The sound of a gun shooting in the air echoed in the silence of the marsh. The pogues all went down instinctively. “Holy shit, guys!” “Oh my fucking god, what the fuck!”

JJ grabbed the back of y/n’s shirt with his hand, bringing her closer to him. “John b get down!” almost hissed the girl. Another shot fired, y/n clung onto JJ.

“Oh my god, we’re gonna die!” yelled Pope. A third shot fired. Y/n’s eyes caught the net at the back of the boat and an idea sparked in her head. She looked at Kiara, who clearly had thought of the same thing.

“Pope, move,” ordered the brunette as her friend stood to go grab the green net. Another shot flew into the air beside her, the bullet barely missing her.  

“Get down, y/n!” shouted her brother desperately. She headed towards the back of the boat and threw the net into the water. It slid down the current and got caught right into the motor of the men’s boat, making the engine come to a halt abruptly. It clanged loudly and the two men shouted in anger. A sigh of relief left the girl’s lips. Her plan had worked.

“Let’s go, let’s go, let’s go!” hurried Pope. A last gunshot was heard but the hms was too far away to be reached.

“Oh my god!” “Whew!” The pogues all cheered and laughed at their small victory. They were all so glad to be away from these men and all in one piece. Kiara pulled y/n into a hug.

“Y/n, don’t you ever do something like that again. You fucking scared the crap out of me,” said John B as they approached the dock of the château. “I can’t promise anything. Who knows when someone else will shoot at us?”

They all hurried themselves onto the dock, excited to know the content of the bag. “What do you guys think it is?” “Maybe it’s like jewelry? Would be a weird place to keep it but who knows?” “Gotta be money, right?”  

“That or a couple of keys with street value to the low- to mid-mils!” JJ’s eyes glistened with excitement. Y/n smiled softly.

“Can we please just open the bag?” burst Pope. The group all started at him.

“Wow Pope,” y/n giggled. “That was a rare outburst of emotions.”

“You guys are literally killing me with anticipation. Open the bag. We almost died over this.”

John B. pulled out a smaller bag which contained a metal canister. Every pair of eyes was fixed onto it as he pried it open and revealed a compass. Y/n kneeled next to her brother not believing what she was seeing. They exchanged a look, neither of them saying anything. They both knew what that object was and what it meant to their father, but what the hell was it doing there?

“Oh, wow. Yup, that’s about right.” Pope was clearly disappointed by their findings. “Good job, everybody. We found a compass.” Y/n raised a trembling hand to the compass, carefully taking it into her own hands to examine it. Was this really what she thought it was? How could it be? It didn’t make any sense.

JJ removed his hat in frustration. “Dude, what? It’s not worth anything.”

A small smile creeped on Jonh b’s face, his eyes still not looking away from the compass. “This was,” he started.

“This was our father’s,” completed y/n.

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[knockknockchicagopd]

❛ A FUTURE COP ❜

❚❙ REQUEST BY ANON: hi i hope ur having the greatest week on the planet , can i request where reader is younger than hank and she tells him shes pregnant and telling him with some fluff

❚❙ HANK VOIGHT MASTERLIST.

❚❙ WORDS: about 2k.

❚❙ A/N: this writing hasn’t been edited, you may find some grammar mistakes, I’m sorry about that. If you find a description about body or a word out of place, or something that it makes you feel uncomfortable / unrepresented, let me know by a private message and I will change it delighted.

❚❙ GIF credits: to my amazing @sonsofeorl.

❚❙ Tag list: @melblacc @rebelwrites @skyofficialxx @sesamepancakes @scarletsoldierrr @mondefantastique @that-chick212 @enbyamaro @inlovewith3 @ocetevasgirl @sophie-writes @destynelseclipsa @jadakiss13. If you want to be added to my tag list, send me a message.

You have lost the count of how many minutes you've been sitting in the locker room, in silence. Your head is loud enough right now. Hank has left the police station already, and you're waiting the time accorded before doing the same and driving your way to his house. Almost one year and you keep staying there ten minutes more than him, to not make anyone suspect about your relationship. But you aren't sure if you're ready to go.

The fear of losing Hank for what you have to tell him is consuming you, like a big fire reducing your bones to ashes. It's painful, for describing it somehow. The pressure within your chest is going to kill you, suddenly breaking into an anguish crying, resting your back against the wall and curling your legs to your torso. The two of you haven't talked about starting a family. The loss of Justin still being an open wound, bleeding a little bit every day. How are you supposed to tell him that you're pregnant?

“(Y/N)?”

Antonio's voice races your heart, peeking his head out through the lockers. He sounds worried. He looks worried, walking slowly towards you without profering any sharp move. Kneeling next to you, not sure about what he can do, the detective holds your hand to caress the back of them with his thumb; thinking that this gesture can help you to relax. But the sob continues stuck in your throat and the tears roam your cheek like a torrential and furious racing river.

Sitting down by your side, Antonio places an arm over your shoulders, urging you to rest your head on his. He doesn't know what to say. And even if he wanted to say something, his vocal cords fail when your phone dings with a notification and he sees the screen illuminating over the floor. Hank. “Voight?” He thinks raising up an eyebrow, in a mix of curiosity and confusion.

“Where are you? Something jumped off?”

Grabbing your phone and blocking it to keep it inside your pocket, you turn at the man. Your lips are trembling. You're not sure if you can talk, but you need to rip it off from your chest. You don't want to lose Hank, at this point, not even your work matters.

“Ant—Antonio… I am… pregnant”.

Shaking his head slightly, his eyes widened surprised. His forefinger points at the floor for a moment, to the position of your phone a second ago, asking without words if Hank is the father. You nod pressing your lips. He's in shock. You can see in his eyes, trying to find the correct sentence to say. Congratulations? Are you kidding me? Voight, seriously?

“We… started to date… a year and a half ago and… hm… made it official almost a ye—year ago”.

“Who knows it?”

“Only you. No one else. And I'm terrified, be—because… I was there when he lost Justin and… shit, we've always taken all the care, but… this happened”. Biting your bottom lip, as the tears keep filling up your eyes, you try to not cry anymore. “I don't know… how to tell him. I don't know if he wants this. I don't want to lose him, Antonio”.

“Hey, listen now. You're not gonna lose him, okay?” Turning his body at you and adopting your same position, he hits your shoulder briefly with his fist. “I've an idea. Write him and tell him that you're on your way and meet me in the hall”.

Nodding, he shows you a soft smile before standing up to leave the locker room. Cleaning your cheeks with the back of your hands, you do exactly what he has told you. After writing to your boyfriend and picking up your things, you walk out of the place to wait downstairs. Not a minute after, Antonio comes from behind the main desk saying his goodbye to Platt, before following you to the outside.

Offering you the bag he's carrying in his right hand, keeping the other in a pocket, you take it with curiosity.

“This department, his career, is his life. This is a good way to tell him”.

Grabbing the piece of clothing inside it, you read the emblem of Chicago P.D. before noticing the small size of the shirt.

“We usually give these shirts to the kids who come to see the station”.

Yes. That's the better idea. Your lips curve up in a tender grin of gratitude. You can't help but hug him, without caring who can be watching you.

“C'mon, go to his house and give it to him”.

“Thank you, Antonio… I don't… I don't know what to say”.

“You don't have to. Tell me tomorrow how it has goin'”.

In silence, you nod after placing a kiss on his cheek, keeping back the grey t-shirt inside the bag to go find your car in the private parking.

As always, the road is somewhat empty, reaching Hank's neighborhood in a sight. You can see the lights turned on inside, through the windows, and a free place to park your SUV behind his. Taking your time to leave your car there, you step out having a deep breath trying to calm yourself and your nerves. In your head dance a lot of possible ways about how he will react, and every one of them scares you like never.

Putting your eyes on the bag, you find the needed encouragement to come into his house. Leaving your backpack at the entrance, you lead your steps to the back garden, finding Hank sitting on a wooden chair, leaning forward and shaking his knees nervously. You haven't come this ‘late’ before. But as soon as you sit by his side, placing the bag over the dinner table, he feels less agitated.

Resting his back against his chair, tangling his hands over his abdomen, he can't help but feel curiosity about the content of it and the worrying installed on your face.

“What kind of hell are you into, hm?”

Rubbing the line of his jaw with his thumb, he intertwines his hands again waiting for a response. Maybe we need to talk aren't the words you want to choose, but they're the ones that escape from your throat. Watching how his face hardens, you gulp before licking your bottom lip.

“I don't know how it happened. It's not like… I planned it”.

“Don't beat around the bush and be clear with me”. Hank gesticulates with his forefinger, as he always does when he's losing his nerves. “That's why you have been acting distant, right? If you don't want to continue, just tell me”.

He hisses the last three words, hiding the misery in his tone of voice, leaning forward to you. And that really hurts you, to think that he believes you don't love him anymore. That he may think that his life is not compatible with yours. But that's bullshit. You would make them both fit at any cost, if you would have to.

“What? No, no, no! I'm not going to leave you, Hank. I don't want to”.

“Then, what is this about?”

You can't help but close your eyes and take a deep, deep, deep breath until you feel your lungs about to explode. Expelling the air through your nostrils, you decide to give him the bag instead of continuing screwing up the situation by using the wrong words. Frowning, he slides his hand inside it to take off the shirt of small size. Putting it between his fingers and in front of his hands, Hank raises an eyebrow without understanding what that shirt means.

“You stole it?”

“Technically… It wasn't me, but… Antonio”.

“Antonio stole a shirt and gave it to you, because he doesn't know how to return it?”

Moving your lips in silence, trying to say something, you can't believe he's really this fucking dumb. Shrugging he keeps it back inside the bag, pressing his lips.

“I will do it tomo—”.

“To be a detective, you're too stupid, Henry”. The laugh fills up the garden for a moment, starting to feel less scared than five minutes ago. “Hold the shirt again and put that brain of yours to work”.

He grunts tired of your games, doing what you just told him. Placing it stretched over the table, your boyfriend seems thoughtful rubbing his chin. Looking at you sideways, he shakes his head not getting what you want to tell him, turning towards you clapping his hands.

“I hate riddles. Spit it of a damn time, sweetheart”.

“I'm pregnant”.

Hank doesn't move a single inch of his body, as if he hadn't listened to you. His brown eyes are glued on yours. He doesn't even blink, looking at you as if he's studying your face to make sure himself that it's not a macabre joke. That you aren't kidding. That you're telling him the truth. When he kisses his lips, still remaining silence, you feel at the edge.

“Listen, I was scared of telling you. Not only because it means that people should know we are together, but because I don't know how you feel about it. But I swear for my badge, if you don't say anything in ten seconds, I'm gonna punch you in the face. And believe me, I have had a horrible day, Hank. Got too much rage accumulated in my hands”.

“I don't know what to say”. He whispers while you finish your threat.

Barely breathing, you nod, licking your incisors, putting your gaze away somewhere in the garden. It wasn't the response you wanted to hear, but it was the one you were waiting for. Being sure that he's going to end your relationship, but at least taking care of your baby, the tears fill up your eyes, reddening them again.

Cleaning a furtive one running down your left cheek, you get up from your seat about to leave the porch to come into the house, grab your things and go to your apartment. The only thing you were afraid of since you met him is now destroying you slowly. But Hank doesn't let you pass him away, gently gripping your forearm to make you take a step back and sit on his lap.

“I'm sorry…” You sob covering your face with both hands, not being able to look at him.

“Why?”

“I just… I don't wanna lose you. I've never felt happier in my… fucking life, before meeting you. I'm my best version since we're together. I lo—I love you with all my heart, I swear it…”

“Is this because of Justin?”

Your cry suddenly stops, using the sleeves of your jacket to clean your face, raising it towards him. It's been a long time since you talked about his son for the last time, keeping the mourning for himself.

“I saw you, Hank. You were devastated… Your wound is still bleeding and it's okay. It's normal, I understand it. I will never tell you to not cry for him. I didn't want you to… feel like I'm trying to cover this hole in your heart, just because the only thing I want is you to be happy. I didn't wa—”.

“Justin died, that's a fact. I miss him every day of my life. I should have been a better father for him. Maybe he would be alive now, maybe that night wouldn't have ever happened. But that doesn't mean I don't want this”. He points at the grey t-shirt, giving you some hope. “There's no one who cares more about me than you do. I've imagined my life with you thousands of times. How it would be to have a family together. Do the right thing, because it's never too late to change. And as you said so, you made me a better man too. I want it, (Y/N). I want this life with you. I want this kid. And I want you”.

You pout at him, feeling much better knowing that everything is clear. Placing a hand on the back of your neck, he pushes you closer to catch your lips with his to transmit you all the happiness and the tenderness he has inside his soul, after giving him this second chance in life.

“We will talk with Crowley and Platt tomorrow, okay with that?” You nod in response. “So… Antonio knows, uh?”

“Yeah, he… found me crying in the locker room and saw your message on my phone. It was his idea”.

“He had a good one”. Hank assures while chuckling, urging to rest your head against his chest. “I will give him a biscuit tomorrow, you know, for being a smart dog”.

“He wasn't in Narcotics for anything…”