#who we all know what's coming up yeah? The good news is Miles is going to redeem himself hard for that 'Simon.' soon enough

[dadbodbuck]

WE'RE BREAKING UP

WHY WOULD YOU SAY THIS TO ME.

WHY WOULD YOU TYPE THIS WORDS WITH YOUR FINGERS AND THEN PRESS POST.

GET AWAY FROM ME

hi jack unfortunately we got married when you weren't looking so you have to pay for an attorney :/

anyway

Buck texts him I need to talk to you and Christopher knows it’s going to be a bad day. He was actually thinking about coming home over Thanksgiving break—it’s not as clean as going back over Christmas, but he misses Denny (who’s been telling him a lot about his cool new sister during their nightly meme exchange), and he misses his school friends (even if they’re exhausting to be around sometimes), and worst of all he misses his family. He misses his dad, he misses Buck. He even misses Tommy—despite only having met him a few times, he knows he’s been good for Buck and for his dad. 

He liked seeing his dad smiling so much when he first started hanging out with Tommy, before her. He liked the way Tommy talked to him like an adult with his own thoughts and opinions. He liked the way Tommy talked about Buck, even though it was kind of gross seeing a grown man swoon that much.

But then. I need to talk to you. And it all comes crumbling down around him. Buck even has the nerve to follow it up with Can I call you? like some sort of therapist or school administrator. Chris opts for a video call, because he’s not eighty years old, and when Buck picks up, his eyes are bloodshot, his face is pale, and he’s nestled in his bed like a stereotypical teenager girl after she gets dumped.

Oh. Oh no. “What,” Chris says, and he kind of regrets the video call now, because Buck flinches back like he’s been physically hit.

“Uh, hey!” Buck says, trying to recover and failing miserably. The smile he plasters on his face looks so forced it’s painful, “How’s Texas in November treating you?”

Chris looks at Buck and decides to play nice. Just a little. “Not that I’m not happy to see you, but you sounded like you had something important to talk about.”

“You’re right,” Buck sighs, “I’m procrastinating. I just wanted to let you know that Tommy and I have decided not to see each other anymore.”

And, yeah, Chris is pretty sure he knew this was coming, but it still makes him want to cry, or bite something, or throw his phone into the lake. “What happened?”

“Well—uh—Chris, I don’t—the details really aren’t important,” Buck says, with a wince, “What is important is that I love you, and your dad loves you, and just because Tommy won’t be around doesn’t mean you won’t have our support. I’m really sorry, bud. I know you liked him.”

It blindsides Chris, and he doesn’t know why. He should’ve seen this coming a mile away. He shouldn’t have gotten attached. He never should have sat down to watch The Batman with his dad and Tommy and stolen Tommy’s popcorn and talked shit on Buck’s taste in Star Wars Prequels. 

“What did you do?” Chris asks, feeling a startling rage building in his throat. It’s familiar, now. He doesn’t know how he knows, but he knows this is Buck’s fault. Buck looks like a dog that pissed on the carpet and is waiting for you to step on the wet spot.

Buck clears his throat, and visibly weighs truth and comfort in his mind. “I asked him to move in with me. It was—it was too fast—”

“You asked him to move in with you?” Chris balks, “He has a house!”

“I wasn’t thinking!” Buck hisses, “Listen, I know I fu—messed up. I’m sorry. You have no idea how sorry I am, Chris. But it—it was the best decision for both of us.”

“You’re lying,” Chris seethes, because he knows so, so intimately the look of an adult lying to protect his innocence. “He made you happy. He made dad happy.”

Buck looks away, chin trembling, and Chris feels bad for all of three seconds before the rage consumes every other feeling in his chest. “Call me back when you find someone who wants to stay. Otherwise, keep your love life away from me. And maybe you stay away from me too.”

Chris ends the call, and two seconds later Buck is ringing him again. Chris doesn’t pick up, just sets his phone on his desk and buries his face in his arms. He doesn’t want to cry. He did too much of that after he got to El Paso the first time. But he’s going to miss Tommy. He’s going to miss seeing his dad smile like that. He’s going to miss the dopey lovesick way Buck moved through the world.

When Chris finally composes himself, he sees two more missed video calls from Buck, and a string of texts:

Love you, buddy. Sorry you’re upset. Call later to talk? Or call your therapist?

I really am sorry. I thought Tommy was going to stay too.

Text me pls? So I know you’re ok

Chris texts back: im fine. we’ll be fine. i need some time and gets a response almost immediately.

OK. Take the time you need. Your dad says if you decide to come back and you’re still mad you won’t have to see me if you don’t want to

Chris, always being left behind, feels a sick surge of satisfaction at the prospect. He could be the one who leaves. He can cut his losses before they’re fatal, he can amputate the limb before it goes septic. He texts Buck a single k back and does not examine the way something in the back of his head tells him, quite viciously, that this isn’t the first time that Buck’s been left this week.

[regallibellbright]

“You should go to a hospital.”

“You”--Miles eyed him--”have just lost your authority over my actions. May I remind you. Simon.”

Miles has just been fired by someone who is functionally his uncle, who he called “Uncle” until he entered the Imperial Service nine years ago. Simon’s clearly broken up about this and would have taken any possible out if Miles had given him one. Simon also just witnessed Miles have a seizure in front of him. (Simon also, as family to the Vorkosigans in all but name AND Imperial spymaster, has to be aware of the fact that Miles is a suicide risk right now.) He may have had to fire Miles, but he clearly still cares a lot.

Miles responds by switching back to first-name basis just to twist the knife on that line. It’s awful.

[erwinsvow]

i thinkkk all 3 boys have a thing for r but she only has a thing for rafe (realises when sofia shows up) 🤪 #kook trio reader

this would play out so funny seriously timeline not making any sense but oh well

you watch, jaw clenched and chewing on your cheek, rafe talking to the girl he's been with recently. normally you can push your feelings aside, but it stings this time, since she's been around for weeks. he never stays with one girl for this long, no girl besides you, you think bitterly.

"does she really have to come every time?" you ask, not realizing how jealous you sound. topper and kelce exchange a look. they saw this coming from a mile away.

you are a little oblivious, they discussed one night, not catching onto the way kelce has been suggesting the two of you go to dinner alone for the past month. no, you always agree and then tell him you're inviting rafe too.

you think topper coming over for ice cream and movies is the way he's deciding to cope over breaking up with sarah. you don't even realize this isn't a communal activity, texting rafe and telling him to pick up the ice cream.

it's fine, they've decided, except now you're getting upset, since rafe is doing to you what you've been doing to them.

"it's been like two weeks," top comments, taking a swig of his beer.

"seems like forever. what's he see in her anyways?" you hate that you even asked the question—envy didn't suit you, especially not with your best friends. she's nice, and pretty, and if she's good for rafe then they should be together.

you should be happy for him. it stings even worse because you're not, not at all.

"don't answer that," you follow up, shooting one last dirty look at them and turning away.

"hey! christ." kelce says, while you pick up his scotch and finish it in one drink.

"i need another drink," you huff.

"stop moping," top says.

"yeah, we all know he can't stay away from you. give it another week," kelce snickers, laughing with top.

you don't catch his sentence, a new idea coming to mind.

"what's that pogue's name? the one who sells weed? jj?" you turn to kelce and top, eyes wide and eager, smiling for the first time in an hour. "anyone got his number?"

[itneverendshere]

okay we know rafes help reader in situations like with electricity and no car and such. but maybe it’s the first time where he knows he’s in love with her and she’s the one for him, where she doesn’t go to him for any help. and it’s maybe like not having enough money to buy groceries for herself, or how she walks to work still bc she can’t afford gas. and he gets so mad, and she thinks it’s an inconvenience to him. but it’s actually because rafe will always be there for her, and no matter what the problem is , he can fix it just for her

you got me overnight - r.c

pairing: rafe x pogue!reader(bartender!reader universe) warnings: first fight and confession 🫂

Rafe knew convincing you he was worth a shot was the easiest part of your relationship.

You were absolutely perfect, made to be his. He could picture you right now, the way you’d smile at his stupid jokes, the warmth of your hand in his, or how you’d send him those random "good morning" texts that hit him like a gut punch every time. You were everything. It wasn’t just the way you looked, although that obviously had him floored, but the way you thought about things, the way you cared about people. It was all of it. You gave a shit.

That was something new for him.

He never thought he’d get someone like you, someone who made him want to be better. It was months later, and he was hooked.

Totally gone. You were the real deal for him. Every time his phone buzzed with your name on the screen, it hit him in the chest. Hard.

So when you dropped it on him, casually, that you were walking to work because you didn’t have the gas money while he’d been away on a family holiday, it set off something inside him.

You said it like it was no big deal, like it was just another part of your day. He was losing it. The idea of you walking to work, sweating it out while he was chilling on vacation, made him feel sick. He couldn’t wrap his head around it.

Rafe’s jaw clenched. He didn’t understand why you didn’t tell him earlier, didn’t ask for help. Why didn’t you call him? He could’ve handled it in a second, no problem. You didn’t need to be doing stuff like that. 

“You’ve been walking to work?”

“Yeah… it’s fine. It’s not far,” you replied, brushing it off like it was nothing.

But it wasn’t nothing. Not to him. He knew how far your walk was.

He knew it wasn’t just around the corner. And you didn’t have to be doing this. Even if he hadn’t been there for the past week to give you a ride as he usually did, he could’ve taken care of it even if he was miles away. He was always here for you, even if he wasn’t physically there.

Rafe gripped the counter tighter, trying to keep his frustration under control, for your sake. “Why didn’t you say anything? You didn’t tell me you were low on gas.”

You gave a little shrug, as if that was the end of the conversation.

“Didn’t wanna bother you. It’s not your problem.”

Didn’t wanna bother him? Not his problem? You were his problem, the best kind of problem, and he couldn’t understand why you thought you had to handle everything by yourself. It pissed him off—not at you, but at the fact that you were doing this, struggling in silence. It was like you didn’t trust him to be there for you. 

You didn’t trust him enough to lean on him when you needed something.

“What do you mean it’s not my problem?” His voice came out harsher than what he'd hoped for, and you froze, eyes wide.

“Whoa. Chill,” you said, holding your hands up defensively. “I didn’t think you’d get so worked up about it. I can handle it.”

But that wasn’t the point. You shouldn’t have to handle it. Not when you had him. You were supposed to lean on him, to come to him when things like this came up. 

That’s what being together meant.

It was crazy to him. Every part of him wanted to protect you, to make sure you didn’t have to deal with anything like this on your own. The thought of you walking to work—tired, probably stressed out—while he was away doing nothing important...he hated it.

"You don’t have to handle it, though," he argued, voice softer now but still frustrated “That’s the thing. You don’t get it, do you? I want to help. I need to help. When you're struggling, that's my problem too. I wanna be there for you. Always.”

You looked at him like he was overreacting like he was making something out of nothing. “Baby, it’s not that serious. It’s just a couple of walks. You’re acting like I was in danger or something.”

He ran a hand through his hair, trying to calm down, but it wasn’t working. "It's not about the fucking walks. It's the fact that you didn’t even think to tell me. Like I wouldn’t care.”

You sighed, rubbing your temples like you were tired of this conversation already. “I didn’t wanna bother you. You were on vacation. I didn’t want to stress you out over something so small.”

He didn’t know why it pissed him off so much, but it did. It was gnawing at him like a splinter under his skin, “You’re serious? You didn’t think it was worth mentioning?” 

You shifted on your feet, already defensive. “I don’t know. I didn’t think it was that big of a deal. I figured I’d just handle it.”

“That’s exactly the problem!” he snapped, stepping closer to you, his hand gesturing wildly. “You figured you’d handle it? What the fuck? Why would you think I wouldn’t want to know about something like this?”

“Because it’s stupid gas money, Rafe!” you fired back, your frustration bubbling to the surface now. “I didn’t wanna bother you with something so small! You were gone, and I didn’t want to make it a whole fucking thing.”

He could hear the irritation in your voice, but it just made him angrier.

You thought you were protecting him from being “bothered,” but all it did was make him feel like you didn’t need him. Like you didn’t think he could help, or worse, like you didn’t want him to.

“Small? Are you fucking kiddin’ me? You walked to work for how many days, in the heat, probably tired as fuck, and you think that’s small?” His voice was rising, and he hated that he couldn’t control it, but he was too worked up now. “It’s not about the gas money. It’s the fact that you didn’t tell me. You kept it to yourself, like I’m just some fucking dude who’s not in your life like that.”

You crossed your arms, your own frustration clear. “Rafe, you’re blowing this way out of proportion. I didn’t need to tell you because I can take care of myself. I’m not helpless.”

“That’s not what this is about!” he nearly shouted, the words tumbling out before he could stop them. “This isn’t about you being helpless or not! It’s about you letting me be there for you, letting me help you when things get tough. Shit. That’s what this is, what we are. You don’t fucking get it.”

“I do fucking get it, Rafe!” you snapped back, stepping closer to him, your eyes burning with misplaced anger. “But I don’t need to run to you every time something goes wrong. I’m not gonna fall apart because of a few days without a car.”

He was grinding his teeth now, trying to keep his composure but failing miserably. “It’s not about falling apart. It’s about the fact that you didn’t even think to lean on me! You didn’t trust me enough to just call and say, ‘Hey baby, I’m low on gas. Can you help?’ You shouldn’t have to figure it out on your own.”

You threw your hands up, exasperated. “I did figure it out! I walked. It wasn’t some huge disaster. I made it work.”

“But you shouldn’t have had to!” he yelled, his voice echoing in the kitchen. “Why can’t you get that? You don’t have to handle shit like this alone! I want to be there for you. I need to be there for you. Don’t you get that?”

You flinched at the volume of his voice, but you didn’t back down.

“You’re acting like I don’t care about us because I didn’t ask you to bail me out. I care, Rafe. But I can deal with things on my own, too. I’m not just gonna dump every little problem on you like it’s your job to fix everything.”

Rafe shook his head, running his hands through his hair for the millionth time, pacing now because he couldn’t stand still. “It is my job, though. That’s the whole fucking point. I’m supposed to be the one you come to when things go wrong sweets, big or small. I’m supposed to be the one who makes your life easier, not the guy you hide stuff from.”

You let out a frustrated laugh, disbelief coloring your tone. “Hide? Seriously? You think I’m hiding things from you? It was gas money, Rafe, not some deep, dark secret.”

“It feels like it, though!” he shot back, voice cracking slightly, betraying the emotion he’d been holding back. “It feels like you don’t trust me. Like I’m not… like I’m not enough for you to depend on.”

You went silent at that, your arms dropping to your sides as you stared at him, the tension between you thick and heavy. “That’s not fair,” you said quietly, shaking your head. “You know that’s not true.”

“Do I?” his voice cracked slightly, “Because it doesn’t feel like it. I’m out here thinking I’m the one who’s supposed to have your back, but you’re just out there, dealing with stuff alone. It makes me feel like… I don’t know. Like I’m not even part of your life like that.”

“That’s not what this is,” you said, stepping toward him now, the fight draining out of your voice. “I didn’t ask you because I didn’t want you to worry. Not because I don’t trust you. I thought I was helping by not making you deal with it.”

He let out a bitter laugh. “Helping? You think it helps me to know you’re struggling and didn’t say anything? That’s not helping. Shit, that’s torture, baby. I’d rather know and fix it than find out after and feel like an idiot because I wasn’t there.”

You sighed, rubbing your face with both hands, exhaustion settling in. “Rafe, I didn’t mean to make you feel like that. I didn’t think it was that serious.”

“It’s serious to me,” he said, his voice almost a whisper now, the anger ebbing away, leaving only the hurt behind. “Because I love you. And when you love someone, you don’t want them to handle things alone. You want to be there. Always.”

You froze, eyes wide as you stared at him. What? He hadn’t planned to say it like this, not in the middle of a fight, but there it was—out there and real.

“I love you,” he repeated, quieter this time. “And I need you to understand that means I’m here. For all of it. No matter how small it seems.”

He said it. He loved you. Maybe it wasn’t the best timing, but at least it was out of his chest. This man who had always been so intense, so fiercely protective, was looking at you like you held his entire world in your hands. And you did.

He loved you. That word—love—felt huge, almost too much. But it was what you had felt for him too. It was why you held back from asking for help, not because you didn’t trust him, but because you didn’t want to burden him with every little problem. You thought you were protecting him. Now, standing there, you realized maybe you’d gotten it wrong.

“You l-love me?”

“Yeah. I thought that was obvious by now.”

“Rafe…” you started, but he shook his head, his jaw clenched like he was bracing himself for rejection.

“It’s fine,” he mumbled, turning away, his hand running through his face. “You don’t have to say anything. I just—I just needed you to know.”

“No.” You stepped forward, reaching for his hand before he could pull completely away. “No, you don’t get to do that. You don’t get to just say it and walk away like I’m not standing right here.”

His gaze shot back to yours, confused and a little bit guarded, like he wasn’t sure what to expect.

“I love you too,” you said, the words feeling right as soon as they left your lips. You squeezed his hand, needing him to feel it. “I love you, okay? I didn’t ask for help because I didn’t want to drag you into my mess. I thought I was being strong, handling things on my own. I never wanted you to feel like I didn’t need you. I do need you,” you continued, stepping closer, your voice trembling slightly. “And I know now that I should’ve just called. That I should’ve let you help me, because that’s what we do. We’re a team. I just didn’t want to be a burden.”

Rafe let out a shaky breath, his shoulders sagging as if the weight of the world had just been lifted off him. He pulled you into his arms, holding you tight against his chest, his grip almost desperate. You melted into him, burying your face in the crook of his neck, feeling the calming thrum of his heartbeat.

“You’re not a burden,” he whispered, his voice hoarse. “You’ll never be a burden. I just—I need you to let me be there for you. I don’t care what it is. Big or small, I wanna know. I wanna help.”

You nodded against his chest, breathing in his familiar scent, letting the warmth of his skin calm you.

“Okay. I promise.”

He pulled back slightly, just enough to look at you, his thumb brushing lightly against your cheek. There was something in his eyes now that hadn’t been there before—relief, maybe, but more than that. Love. He felt you relax against him, your body molding into his.

“Say it again,” he murmured, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

You chuckled softly, your hand resting on his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart under your palm. “I love you, Rafe.”

He leaned down, pressing his forehead against yours. “I need you to get something,” he said softly, his voice much calmer now “When I say I love you, I’m not just saying it. I mean it. Like… for real. I’m in this, all the way.”

You blinked up at him, your eyes wide “I—” you started, but he shook his head, cutting you off gently.

“No, listen,” he interrupted, “I’ve never felt like this before. You’re everything. And I love you for it. I love every single part of you.”

He felt his chest tighten as he said it, like the words were coming from somewhere so deep inside him that he hadn’t even realized they were there until now. But they were, and they were real. He didn’t just love you—he needed you. He wasn’t sure if you’d even processed it yet. Then, slowly, you grinned, your eyes glistening just a little. 

 “This just… it feels so big. Holy shit, bigger than anything I’ve ever felt.”

“That’s because it is big,” Rafe said, his voice dropping to a whisper as he pressed his forehead against yours again. “It’s the biggest thing in the world to me. You are.”

Your breath hitched, and he could feel you trembling slightly in his arms. You reached up, cupping his face with your hands, and for the first time since the fight started, Rafe felt like you were really seeing him. Not just in that moment, but all of him—the guy who was scared out of his mind at how much he needed you, but who was willing to do anything to keep you close.

“I love you too,” you said it again, your voice shaking a little as you said it. “I’m sorry.”

 “We’re in this together,” he kissed your knuckles, his own fingers gently brushing through your hair. “No more going through stuff alone. Not you, not me. We’ve got each other now.”

You smiled, and Rafe felt like he could breathe again, really breathe, for the first time all night. “Deal,” you whispered.

And right there, he knew that everything was going to be okay.

Because you weren’t just someone he loved—you were his person. 

[opal-owl-flight]

I didnt expect to see Octavio in the Grandfest...and neither did 3, for that matter.

In my interp of the lore, Inkadia is aware of who he is. 3 and the platoon have been fighting for years with the Inkadian powers that be to recognize Octaria as a legitimate nation, for it to be held in equal regard.

That day finally came on the Grandfest. Or at least, the beginnings of it, anyway.

More on the two's convo below!

"Hm! |...Sir Octavio! Im...surprised to see you here.|"

"What. You think Octaria doesnt deserve to celebrate the biggest event in the continent alongside you squits?"

"|No! No! Im...|" they chuckle, a smile breaking across ther face. "|...glad to see that you made it!

But I dont remember arranging a pass for you...|"

"Aah. Well. Your old man pulled some strings. That, and the Inkadian and Splatlandian powers that be invited me themself."

Now 3s surprised. "|...Really?|"

"Mhm. I brought the dome-dwellers up here with me. Look around! Didnt you notice them in your matches?"

Are they dreaming?

They never noticed them at all. It wasnt even like there was much of a difference. For months there have been an increase of migrators and visitors. Allowed to turf. Allowed to stay. Allowed to...

Live in the sunshine.

They stagger, which made the Octarian king hold out a tentacle to steady them. "You alright, bucko?"

3 nods. "|A-a little overwhelmed, thats all.

All those patrols. All those deserters I helped to assimilate. All that struggle they had to go through to escape Octaria-

And now, its just...so...|"

"Easy?"

3 nods again, silently.

"Mmmm. I'll admit though, not everyone is keen on just letting people explore. Not everyone was keen on coming up here for this festival, either.

...too much, has happened for them to trust Inkadia again."

3 hangs their head low. He held their chin and made them look up again.

"...But you. You and your platoon of hooligans. Youve been changing that. You are Inkadians that went the extra mile in understanding us. Listening to us, respecting our decisions. Allowing us to rule our nation as we wished.

It means...a lot. More than you know.

To the point where even those who dont trust Inkadia are at least respecting it from a distance now."

The conversation is cut short by a couple of young Inkfish kids.

"Oaah...its the Octarian king!"

"Hes REAL!!!"

"Of course Im real, squirts! Who'dya think leads all the Octarians?"

"Yeah!!" squeaks another kid, who waddles closer. "Our king is so nice! He brought us up here to play!!"

"Woaah, really?"

"Mhm." He grunts. "Everyone deserves the sunshine."

The kids eyes all shine. Theyve had ex-Octarian friends who spoke much kinder words about the king. It was easy for them to accept the fact that hes just there, grinding wasabi peacefully. Talking to the Inkfish who wants merch. Having generally gruff but...daresay, gentle vibes.

Octavio grunts out a chuckle. "Are you enjoying the surface, little one?"

"VERY!! I made new friends!! The sun feels so warm, ah!! The music! The music!! Oh, so wonderful!!!"

3 smiles again...

"Oooh... wait, I can finally ask!!" squeaks one of the kids. "Mister king, sir! Did you really fight someone called Agent 3???"

3s smile becomes a nervous one. Octavio picks that up immediately.

"Why yes. Little hooligan, that one. Ack! Gave me a headache like nothing else!"

"Did they convince you? To be good now?"

"Mh. Its a little more complicated than that, kiddoes. But I..." he sighs. "...I guess, they did."

"Wooow!!"

"So cool...I wish I could meet them!!"

"Well..."

Octavio sees, from the corner of his eye, 3 making the subtlest movement of shaking their head.

"Its said...that theyre one of the top players in the leagues. If you look hard enough, youll find em."

The Octarian kid looks straight at 3, knowingly. The two other kids notice -- and look at the golden badge they hung around their neck.

"Oh! Oh! Youre a top player, right?"

"Do you think youve met them?"

Octavio is doing EVERYTHING he can to not laugh.

"|...Im not sure. Im not exactly sure what to look for.|"

"Ill help your search, all of you." Octavio grunts again. "What exactly to look for."

3 looks at him, eyebrow raised.

"Theyre ruthless on the field. Whether it be a real fight, or in the leagues. They think on their feet, move faster than most eyes can register.

But underneath that cold efficiency...

Is one of the gentlest, most understanding squids I know."

3s expression changed from nervous to...comfort? Theyre not sure what it is, but its warm.

"Watch for a player who goes out of their way to be nice to kids and beginners. One who's a good sport in the cutthroat top leagues. One who's willing to share their battle tech to anyone, something that most top players keep under wraps.

One who's motivated to help you become the best version of yourself.

No matter how long it takes."

Octavio sees 3s shoulders relax a bit. He smiles.

"Yeah, I may have fought them a lot, back in the day. But now, Id really rather think of them as a friend."

The kids start bickering about which player it could be. The Octarian kid already knew. Shes seen them before, after all. She points at them now.

"Hehee! Maybe you should try looking in a mirror, miss. That sounds a lot like you!"

The other kids stop bickering and take a closer look.

"Huh?? Them? Hmmm...now that you say it-"

"Shes right!!! Its right in front of us!! FOR3VRFRSH! Agent 3!!!"

Octavio grinds one of his wasabi sticks a little harsher on the table to get their attention. "Kids, kids! Remember what the legend says!"

That confirms it!! They shush each other, but are still sqealing quietly. They look up at 3 again, the new info putting the top player in a different light. They threw a glance at Octavio before squatting down to their level.

"Yes," they rasp. "Me and the king...were more friends now...than enemies. Time...passes. People...change.

Remember that, okay?"

"Yes miss! We'll remember!!"

They wink. "Good...now...Stay Forever Fresh!"

Octavio looks on, leaning slightly to whisper to the floating squid jerky next to him.

"You did good with this one, Cuttlefish."

He says nothing, like during this whole conversation. One thought was in his head.

He didnt do that. That...was all 3. They were better than he ever was. He only wished...

He didnt push them as hard as he did.

----------

HOO BOY THATS A DOOZY OF A READ. I didnt PLAN for the beginnings of the acceptance of Octaria to come this early but Nintendo gave me material!! A lot of this is still semi-rough so forgive me if the pacing is whack. I just had to make and write something!!

[crxss01]

if miles 42 is a boob guy 1610 fs an ass dude he appricates tits js loves ass n lays on it

— Comfort Pillows (Reprise)

pairing ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ 1610! miles morales x reader

summary ⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊ miles loves using your ass as a stress ball and as a pillow too.

warnings ✧˖ ° squeezing + touching of ass, cuddling, this miles being an ass guy.

m. list, main m. list.

translations ✧࿓☾ bebè: baby, contra: damn, hermosa: gorgeous, bonito: handsome/or pretty boy.

a/n . . ◟੭ hey, sweet anon! i absolutely agree with you. this is the definition of balance, hope you enjoy! this is the e-42 miles boobs version.

miles gave you a cheeky grin and you immediately knew what he was thinking.

"no." you said.

"come on, bebè." he whined. "just turn around."

"we are good like this." you motioned to his position between your legs with his chin on your chest (at the moment).

"yeah, i love this but i also want to..." miles got shy all of a sudden, looking away. "you know."

you smirked at this. "say the reason and i will turn." you challenged, knowing that this would be a little hard for him.

"contra," he cursed. "don't do this to me."

"you're doing this to yourself, darling." you shook your head. "just tell me why you want me to turn."

"why are you like this?" miles said, voice coming out muffled due to the fact that he had buried his face in your chest.

“well if you want something, you have to ask.” you said simply. “it’s not that hard to do, bonito.”

miles pulled his head back up and took a deep breath, glaring at you. “i want to touch and lay on your a-ass.” he had only struggled with the last bit, a new record.

“now, that wasn’t so bad, huh?” you grinned, hiding your laugh.

“be quiet,” miles huffed, sitting up so that you could turn.

when you were finally laying on your front and making yourself comfortable because you were going to be like this for a while, you lifted your head to look back at miles who was just frozen.

“miles, don’t make me turn back around.” you warned.

the boy who had just stared at your ass as soon as it came into his view, snapped out of it and immediately put one of his hands on each cheek. “i love this.” he squeezed.

after a few squeezes that you secretly enjoyed, miles finally laid down his head on one of your cheeks while he kept a handful of the other and squeezed here and there.

you started to drift off after a few minutes went by and you thought the same was happening for miles and that he was subconsciously squeezing your ass at this point but he proved you wrong.

“hermosa, can i?” his fingers played with the hem at the bottom of your sleep shorts.

“yes, bonito.” you agreed.

you felt him smile against you then his hand slipped up under your shorts and underwear, he sighed as if relieved by this.

“much better��.” miles murmured as he massaged your ass and gave it a couple of squeezes here and there. “i just love our ass.”

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ reblogs are really appreciated!

[starrayblogs]

chai? i love chai!

a/n: i love pavitr, he's so silly and i wanna be best friends with him ..... so here i am- writing a short story because my brain is literally being occupied by him, and i'd like to share it with you. enjoy!

another a/n: i haven't actually watched the movie yet! it hasn't released where i am D:, but i have been so hyped for the movie i just can't wait to watch it! sooo, sorry if there are any plot mistakes!

pavitr prabhakar + gn!reader

you're a spiderperson! hoorah! feel free to imagine yourself as your spidersona ü

"i love chai tea!"

"what did you just say? chai means tea, bro! you're saying tea tea, would i ask you for a coffee coffee with room for cream cream?"

"no. no, i'm sorry."

giggles bubble up from your throat as you fail to keep yourself from bursting into full-blown laughter at miles. "this is not funny." miles points a finger at you, who is currently bent at the knees with arms wrapped around the torso while laughing.

after a few more seconds, you rise up straight and fan your face as you try to stop from laughing. "aw, man, that shouldn't have made me laugh so hard." you say in between breaths of composure.

"chai tea isn't funny!" pavitr exclaims, crossing his arms.

"oh no, of course it isn't. miles's reaction was." you snicker a bit as you glance to miles, who gave you a glare. "but, on the topic of chai, i love karak chai." the lenses on your mask curve at the bottom to show some sort of smile, with your masked eyes.

"what did you just say?" pavitr's lenses widen as his arms unfold. "did you just say karak chai? you know your chai!?" he gasps, coming up to you with a hand over where his mouth would be.

"yeah! i love chai!" your eyes grin as your shoulders rise a little.

"gwen, i can't believe you've brought such a nice, new guy!" he turns to give gwen a surprised look before he turns back to you, placing his hands on your shoulders. "tell me, new guy," you cut him off to say your name, which he says and resumes. "how did you come across karak chai? are you indian too?" he asks curiously.

"no, actually, but i did grow up with some indian cuisine around me!" you reply with as much excitement as him. he lets out an 'oooohh' as his lenses grin at you. "i like you, new guy!"

"oh come on, what about me?" miles interjects and gwen lets out a laugh that she quickly covers up by clearing her throat.

"you said chai tea." pavitr pulls away from your shoulders to point at miles.

"i said sorry!"

you laugh again, this time recovering faster when pavitr turns to face to you. "tell me," he says your name with a cheerful look in his masked eyes. "do you also like naan?"

"oh, obviously, but..." you hesitate by squinting your lenses a bit, which makes the spiderman in front of you tilt his head. "i'm more of a paratha person." you admit sheepishly.

pavitr gasps as his lenses widen again. he stares at you for a few seconds, which makes you nervous because you think you've said something to upset him. "i have never met another spiderman that knows about indian food..." he mumbles, but there was a bit of a surprised tone in his voice. "i just know we are going to be great friends!" he exclaims, moving over to give you a side hug.

your eyes widen a bit, but you grin. you happily hang your hand over his shoulder, just like he did with yours.

"you should totally try some indian food here when you get the chance. i know all the great places!" he offers, tilting his head to you. your lenses curve underneath at his offer.

"i'd love that, oh my gosh. now that i think of it, i kind of do miss the food." you chuckle, a hand coming up to pat your stomach absentmindedly.

"we should totally eat out together whenever you're here!" he says, his eyes and tone filled with joy which brings a smile to your eyes and lips underneath the mask.

"that sounds like a fun time." miles adds himself in, which makes pavitr's head turn away from you to reply.

"hmm... maybe it will do you so good too, teach you how to not make mistakes like chai tea again." he says, and miles lenses widen as his demeanor immediately brightens.

"awesome! can we get naan bread?" miles asks, which receives a not-so-happy reaction from the indian spiderman.

"what did you just say!?"

pavitr pulls himself off your shoulder to point and scold at miles again. you and gwen glance at each other before bursting into laughter together, watching as miles does his best to apologize.

[cosmerelists]

Bridge 4 Discuss Terrible Pickup Lines

As (sort of) requested by @dewypeach and @imtheseventh

So back when @cam-ulu29 asked for a Kaladin flirting list, I ran a poll about whether it should be a sincere, sweet list or a list full of terrible, out-of-character pickup lines. The former won by a MILE, but some people were interested in the latter. Dewypeach & imtheseventh in particular suggested doing something with Bridge 4 either suggesting terrible pickup lines or having Kaladin try them out. So here's something like that!

Skar: Worst pickup lines you can come up with. Go.

Lopen: I suggested one for Kaladin, but it wasn't terrible--it was really good. He acted like it was terrible, though--does that count?

Kaladin: It WAS terrible.

Kaladin: And...weird.

Kaladin: I'm not going to flirt with Dalinar. He is my boss. And married. And old.

Lopen: So what I said, right, was that Kal should look Dalinar right in the eye, all serious-like, and say, "My relationship with my father is terrible. Will you be my new Daddy?"

Moash: [spits out drink]

Skar: No!

Lopen: Listen, it would work! I can read a man, and I KNOW that would work on Dalinar!

Kaladin: I DON'T WANT TO FLIRT WITH DALINAR, MY MARRIED ELDERLY BOSS

Lopen: Okay, okay! If you prefer to flirt with Navani, you just gotta roll up with something like, "So I heard you like long, thick towers. It just so happens that I..."

Kaladin: NO

Moash: See, the thing is, Kal, you're attractive enough that you could probably get away with a really bad pickup line.

Moash: I bet you could tell someone that you want to "Plunge straight into their their Honor Chasm" and I bet it would work.

Kaladin: That would absolutely not work.

Moash: You say that, and yet...

Rock: Moash has point, though! We are all well-known now, yes? All good-looking (except maybe for Lopen, who is unfortunately very short). I think men like us get away with some pretty bad lines, yeah?

Letyen: "You did a bridge run straight into my heart."

Moash: "I wanna explore YOUR chasms."

Kaladin: (What's you and the chasms, man?)

Lyn: "Let's...bridge this distance between us."

Teft: "I'm from Bridge 4. Do you want to get a drink?"

Skar: "Let me show you how good I am with my spear."

Sigzil: "You prefilled the forms in my heart."

[They all look at him]

Sigzil: What? In Azir, that's a very effective line.

Moash: Is that true, though, or are you making up Azir stories to trick us stupid Alethi?

Sigzil: [sips drink enigmatically]

Kaladin: Fine, fine, okay!

Kaladin: If I wanted to "pick someone up" with my Bridge 4 cred, I guess I'd try something like...

Kaladin: ...

Kaladin: Uh... How about: "My days in the bridge crews were horrible and dark. I barely survived. I lost a lot of friends. Good friends. It haunts me still. But now that I'm out, I've decided to live. And that means doing things that make me WANT to live."

Kaladin: "Like going out with you!"

Kaladin: [Looks at them expectantly]

Moash: Oh, Kal...

Lopen: Even your pretty face can't save that one, gon...

Skar: The thick tower line is looking better and better...

Kaladin: WELL YOU GUYS ARE THE ONES WHO BROUGHT IT UP

[foreverisntenough]

‘Act II’

Summary: Attraction is like a gravitational pull that is undefinable and unavoidable. Unbeknownst to you, Jude had been keeping an eye on you since he caught a glimpse on his best friend’s girlfriend’s Instagram but he’s been loving his single life. You always were independent and know how to swim on your own but maybe you have been just treading water. Could the tides change on a holiday in Greece when you finally meet? It might get a little rocky but maybe you could be his paradise.

Index

Warnings: This series is 18+ MDNI

Extra Warning! This chapter touches on Whitney's serious mental health struggles. It’s brief but dark so if that is at all potentially triggering to you please be advised and DNI. <3

Note: Thank you for reading! Please be sure to like, comment, or message me what you think of the series! ‘Act II’ is interconnected to the 'You’re Mine' and 'Ours' Series but can read it independently.

Chapter 18 - 'Long Distance’ | ‘Act II’

word count - 11.2k

Winnie had just arrived in Madrid, buzzing with excitement about being there to see you and yeah, sure maybe for Jude’s match but lately boyfriends, fiance’s whomever's games weren’t all that exciting anymore, they’d lost their novelty. You headed straight to her hotel, practically skipping through the lobby to meet her. When you got to her room, she was already sprawled out on the bed, unpacking her things. You flopped down beside her, grinning from ear to ear, barely able to contain your giddiness.

“Alright,” she said, her voice full of mischief. “Spill. How’s this boy of yours doing?” Winnie gave you a knowing look, propping herself up on her elbows. “Still handsome? Almost your husband yet?” She giggled.

“Oh, gorgeous as ever. Definitely far from my husband though.” you laughed back, throwing her a playful glance. You leaned back into the pillows, your smile only growing wider. She rolled her eyes. You had gone to her hotel ahead of the match to gossip or as you two would call it ‘get ready.’

“Please, the way you talk about him, he might as well be! You live here now!” She teased. “I had to change time zones just to hang out with you. You and Whit have me racking up my fight miles. You two should give me a promo code to be your friend. You’ve both ditched me for all these English men. Surely, they can't’ be that good.” She smirked.  

“I mean…” You laughed, nudging her with your elbow, a shrug, and a raised eyebrow. Winine did know in fact. She’d given a few of Trent’s friends a go. “Also, we didn't ditch you! I’m home all the time. Plus, you’re here, aren’t you?” Winnie shot you a sarcastic look but couldn’t hold back her own laughter. 

“Yeah, yeah, sure. But still. You and Whit are so wrapped up in your men, I’m starting to think I need to find myself a British lad to keep up!” You both burst out laughing, the sound filling the room, the kind of giggles that come when you’re in the company of someone who knows you better than anyone. For the next hour, you spilled everything to her—the ups, the downs, the dreamy parts, the sluttier moments, and the messier bits of your life with Jude. You told her about the quiet nights in Madrid, the ridiculous inside jokes you shared with him, the sweet minutes, and the awkward ones too. The whole time, Winnie listened intently, throwing in jokes here and there, but you could see the warmth in her eyes, happy for you.

“So, let me get this straight,” Winnie said after you’d finished. “You’ve been living this fairy tale, in love with a footballer, dream life, and I’ve just been…there, back in New York, missing all the action without my two best friends?” You laughed, shaking your head. 

“You’ve definitely been having your own fun.” You teased. She raised a brow, smirking knowing well she has had some fun. .  

“Well, fine. But you’re still out here living with your superstar husband in Madrid.” She poked fun at you a bit more. 

“He’s not my husband, Winnie.” You corrected her with some cheek. 

“Yet.” She winked, and you burst into laughter again, your heart feeling full. Being with her like this, joking about everything, made you realize how much you missed the simplicity of your friendship, even if your life had shifted dramatically. But as you sat there, wrapped up in the warmth of the moment, you knew you didn’t want to trade it for the world. You both were lying on Winnie’s hotel bed, tangled in fits of giggles as you filled her in on the plans for the evening. 

“So tonight, just the match…little night out after with their friends. I think you’ve met Jobe and then you’ll like the Real boys. They’re sweet” you said, excitement and nerves mixing together. You’d been looking forward to it for a bit. Just having a girlfriend back with you but there was always that undercurrent of tension when it came to these events with Jude, especially with all that had been on your mind lately. Winnie propped her head up on her hand, giving you a knowing look. 

“Yeah, yeah, we’ll have a fucking night out, and then tomorrow morning when I’m hungover and met a sweet spanish boy I will fly off to England to see Whit and Teddy girl,” she said, her tone softening from cheek when she mentioned them. “I haven’t seen them in so long, I miss that chubby little girl… and Whit too.” She smiled. You smiled at the mention of Whitney and Teddy, but that smile faltered when you thought about the gallery event you had to attend soon, the one that would take you away from Madrid, leaving you to miss the match in England.

You know I have to be at the gallery so I’ll miss the match as well,” you confessed, sighing heavily. “It’s this big opening, I can’t miss but I don’t know, Win. I don’t know how long things can keep going like this.” You sighed. Articulating your fears aloud made them all the more real. 

“I know. I’ll be back in time for it, probably straight from JFK but  it’s okay. What makes you so worried? You and Jude are fine, you’ll sort it out. It’s just some travel.” Winnie sat up slightly, raising her brow. You shook your head, your smile fading. 

“It’s more than that. I’m always flying back and forth. We keep missing these big moments. How long before it all just…falls apart? Like how many matches, how many openings, how many holidays before you start to question the whole thing.” Your bottom lip quivered. Winnie’s expression softened as she studied your face, seeing how much this was weighing on you. But she, being Winnie, always knew how to keep things light, even when the mood was heavy. 

“Well, the flight here was great! He’s not exactly flying coach, is he?. And honestly,  in addition to just how great you are… he’s getting sex out of this so really… he’s a lucky lad, all three of those things are wonderful,” she joked, nudging you playfully. You couldn’t help but giggle, but the laughter was tinged with sadness. 

“I know, but…” you trailed off, your voice quieter now. “It just feels like…it might be doomed, you know? Like there’s no real way to fix it.” You mumbled. Winnie grabbed your hand, squeezing it. 

“Hey, stop. It’s not doom. It’s just life. You and Jude…you’ll figure it out. Relationships are hard, yeah, but you love him, right?” She asked, knowing the answer. 

“Of course, I do.” You nodded, biting your lip. 

“Then that’s what matters,” she said firmly, her voice full of that sisterly wisdom. “Take it one step at a time. Tonight, enjoy the match, enjoy being with him. Stop worrying about all the ‘what ifs.’” You sighed, leaning back into the pillows, grateful to have Winnie there, but still feeling the weight of it all.

“I just don’t want to lose him,” you admitted, your voice small. “I don’t want to be this deep to lose it.” You frowned.  Winnie smiled at you, soft and understanding. 

“You won’t,” she said, confident. “Not if you keep being honest with each other. And hey, if it makes you feel better, at least you’re getting this weather versus New York shit right now and you’re getting sex with a pretty boy, it can’t be so bad, right?” she teased again, making you laugh despite yourself.

“Yeah,” you said with a small smile. “At least there’s that.” But deep down, the uncertainty still lingered, and as you got ready to leave for the match, you couldn’t shake the feeling that the future was more fragile than you wanted to admit. Moments later when you pulled the Bellingham kit over you and tucked it up into your bra to crop it. You inspected your toned torso in the mirror with a pout as you buttoned up your jeans.  Winnie tilted her head back dramatically, laughing. 

“What happened to my party girl? Who is this?” she teased, nudging you with her elbow. “Down so bad for a boy? You giggled, burying your face in your hands for a moment before looking back at her.

“I dont knowwww. I don’t know. Right? I’m just as surprised as you are,” you admitted, shaking your head in disbelief. “But…it’s different, Win. It’s so different with Jude.” you cooed. Finally buttoning the last one of your jeans. 

“Different how?” She raised an eyebrow, leaning in with curiosity. You thought for a moment, the words forming slowly as you tried to put the feeling into words.

 “I used to be so scared of being vulnerable. You know me—I was always the one keeping things light, never letting anyone get too close.” You paused, fidgeting with the edge of the bedspread now as you walked back over to her. “But with Jude…it’s like that vulnerability doesn’t make me feel weak. It makes me feel stronger. Like, being open with him makes me feel more protected, more myself than I ever thought I could feel. It reminds me of how you feel when you’re young like a naive bliss.” You cooed. Winnie listened intently, her playful smirk softening into a genuine smile. 

“That sounds…kind of beautiful, actually,” she said, her teasing tone gone, replaced by something more sincere. She smiled. You let out a sigh, though it was followed by a small, nervous laugh. 

“It is, I guess. But it’s also kind of scary, you know? It’s one thing to be vulnerable, but when all that trust is in someone else’s hands… It's terrifying. It’s like handing someone your heart and hoping they don’t drop it.” You cooed sadly.

“Listen to you! You sound like Whitney talking about T.” Winnie shook her head, grinning. You both laughed at that, and you ran a hand through your hair, still shaking your head in disbelief. 

“I know, right? When did I become that girl?” You cooed confused but with a bit of enjoyment. Winnie gave you a soft shove. 

“Hey, don’t knock it girlie. You sound happy. It makes me happy.”  Winnie said. 

“I am,” you said, your smile growing a little wider, more certain. “It’s just…new, you know? Trusting someone… Trusting Jude.” You sheepishly asked. 

“I get it,” Winnie said, squeezing your hand. “But if anyone can handle it, it’s you. And Jude? He’s lucky to have you, party girl or not.” 

As you walked hand in hand with Winnie through the bustling crowd at the Bernabéu, the energy was electric, every inch of the stadium buzzing with excitement. The final game of the season always brought out the most die-hard fans, and tonight, the sea of Bellingham jerseys seemed endless. A year ago, this sight would’ve made you feel smug, the thought that some of these women were here for the man you gotta go home with. But now, as Jude's girlfriend, that same sea of jerseys stirred something different—a twinge of jealousy you hadn’t expected. Winnie gave your hand a reassuring squeeze as you glanced around, noticing groups of girls whispering and pointing, no doubt hoping to catch a glimpse of the Real Madrid star or his inner circle. You could hear their giggles and murmurs, and though you tried to ignore them, it was hard not to feel a little protective, knowing Jude was the object of their affection.

“Hey… who is this person?” She felt your energy shift. “Y/N… Don’t let them get in your head,” Winnie said softly, leaning close so only you could hear. “You’re his one. They’ll know it eventually. When you guys want.” She smirked. Winnie had been inquiring about your relationship being public earlier. You said you hadn’t really thought about a launch. Which was sort of true so you just smiled gratefully at her, appreciating her unwavering support. 

“I know,” you murmured, though the flutter of nerves didn’t quite settle. Winnie’s presence was a comfort, but you still felt that underlying tension— seeing Jude’s family and friends tonight added an extra layer of pressure, especially with all eyes on you. As you finally reached the box, Denise greeted you with her warm, welcoming smile. She gave you a quick hug, and you could tell she was happy to have you there. Standing just behind her, however, was Jude’s brother Jobe, who smiled a bit shyly and a bit slyly. You’d met him briefly before in Greece, but tonight was different. It wasn’t just a casual family gathering; you were stepping into Jude’s world in a much more public way. Winnie, as always, brought her usual infectious energy, waving at Jobe and immediately breaking the ice with everyone. It helped lighten the mood, and soon enough, you felt yourself relaxing into the group, even though the nerves hadn’t completely left you. But as you stood there and scanned the stadium, your gaze fell back on the crowd of girls below, you felt like many of them dressed to impress, hoping to catch a player’s attention. They were wearing his jersey with pride, their faces filled with admiration, and while you understood their love for him as a player, a part of you couldn't help but feel territorial. 

"Girl, stop. They wish they were you," she teased, flashing you a knowing smile. "But they’re not, and they’ll never be." Whitney leaned over, sensing where your thoughts had drifted. You chuckled softly, but the truth was, being Jude's girlfriend came with a lot more than just the title. You feared officially entering this uncharted territory. One where you felt so apprehensive, so nervous. One you’d heard about from Whitney filled with the constant scrutiny, the attention, and the understanding that every game wasn’t just about football—it was about navigating the world that came with being tied to someone so famous. As the match was about to begin, you found yourself watching Jude on the field, his focus sharp, his movements effortless. He was brilliant, and it was impossible not to be proud of him. But tonight, standing alongside his family and friends, surrounded by all these women who him from afar, the reality of it all hit you. You weren’t just dating any man—you were dating *Jude Bellingham*. And while you knew he was yours in every way that mattered, there was no denying the subtle weight that came with being by his side in the spotlight. When Jobe’ greeted you his hug lingered a moment longer, his embrace comforting in the way only a sibling’s could be. When he pulled back, his wide grin made it impossible not to smile in return, and you felt an immediate wave of relief. You had been apprehensive about seeing Jude’s younger brother, about how Jude’s friends and family would see you, but Jobe’s warmth quickly erased those worries.

“Haven’t seen you since Greece, you look good,” he teased, his tone light. “But I feel like I see you all the time.”

“Yeah?” you asked, confused but curious. Jobe’s grin widened mischievously. 

“Well, I’m not the one telling you….don’t tell Jude I said anything, but… since you guys started dating, it’s like he can’t stop talking about you. Every day, it’s another photo, another update.” Jobe smirked. 

“He sends your family photos of me?” Your heart fluttered. 

“All the time,” Jobe nodded, trying to suppress a laugh. “It’s like, every other day in the family chat. There’s always a picture from dinner—he sends them across the table when you aren’t looking. Then there were photos of your gallery; he was really proud of those. And there was a ton from the Grand Palais—he sent it the day he was going to ask you to be his girlfriend, asking us if it looked good enough as they got it set up.” Jobe smirked, loving the opportunity to expose Jude. Your cheeks flushed as you processed what Jobe was telling you. Jude had shared all these intimate moments with his family, the moments you hadn’t even known were so significant to him, you assumed he cared but to know he had shared them with his parents, with Jobe openly. You could feel the flutter of butterflies in your stomach, realizing just how much you meant to him.

“The Grand Palais?” you murmured, still in disbelief. “He sent that?” Jobe nodded enthusiastically, clearly amused by your reaction. 

“Yep, he was stressing out about everything being perfect. Even sent us a picture of that shit painting he made with you. He wanted to make sure it was good enough.” Jobe dramatically and facetiously pouted, making fun of Jude’s behavior.  Your breath caught as you remembered the painting he’d done at your chateau, the care Jude had taken with it, the thoughtfulness behind every brushstroke. It had meant so much to you at the time he was even trying but now, knowing he’d been so nervous about it, about asking you to be his girlfriend—it made your heart swell even more.

“I didn’t realize…” you began, your voice soft, feeling suddenly overwhelmed by the depth of Jude’s affection.

“Yeah, so maybe the girls in section 102 might not know your name but…”  Winnie cooed. “I think the people who do are the ones that matter.” She giggled while finally hugging Jobe hello. 

“Yeah, Y/N, our family definitely knows. He doesn’t shut up.” Jobe said, his tone shifting to something more serious. His words struck you deeply. The image of the girls in the stadium, all wearing Bellingham jerseys, their adoration for Jude evident, had momentarily made you feel invisible. But now, hearing how much you meant to his family, that Jude had been showing you off to them in a way more personal than any public declaration—it made you realize that those other people didn’t matter. What mattered was how deeply you were cared for, how loved you were by the people that meant the most to Jude.

“Thanks, Jobe,” you said quietly, feeling the weight of his words sink in. “I didn’t know he was sharing all of that with you lot.” You told him. Jobe chuckled, nudging you again. 

“Yeah, he’s obsessed. But honestly, we’re glad you’re with him. Even if it means he’s clogging up the group chat with photos of you.” Jobe teased. You laughed, the sound bubbling out of you before you could stop it. Jobe’s teasing felt like an unspoken seal of approval, and that meant more than anything. There was something about being accepted by Jude’s family that made the whole relationship feel more real, more secure.

“So, I’m the reason for the constant notifications?” you joked, trying to wrap your head around the idea of Jude sending photos of you to his family.

“Pretty much,” Jobe smirked. “But hey, at least they’re good photos. You’ve got him all soft, you know. He’s never been like this with anyone.” Your heart did a little flip at his words. Jude had always been sweet with you, always shown you his affection, but to hear it from Jobe, to know that even his brother could see how much he cared—it was everything.

“Really?” you asked, your voice quieter now, the gravity of what Jobe was saying sinking in.

“Really,” Jobe confirmed. “He’s mad about you. A right melt.” He laughed. You felt a warmth spread through your chest, a deep, undeniable sense of love and belonging. The girls in the stadium, with their jerseys and their signs, didn’t have anything on what you shared with Jude. You might not be plastered all over the tabloids, but you were woven into his life in ways that really mattered—in the family group chat, in his moments of vulnerability, in the small, private snapshots he sent when he thought no one was watching. 

“So, really don’t worry about things. Don’t need to. Embarrassingly, Jude’s all yours. And we all know it.” Jobe’s voice broke through your thoughts.  You smiled at him, feeling lighter than you had in days. “Now c’mon, got to find mum. I think she’s already started the pre-game nerves.” He grinned, slinging an arm around your shoulder in that casual, brotherly way You laughed, falling into step with him as you both made your way through the stadium. As you walked, you couldn’t help but glance at the sea of jerseys again, but this time, it didn’t bother you as much. You felt maybe you had something more—something real, something lasting. The energy in the stadium was electric, but despite the excitement of the game on going, you couldn’t shake the weight sitting in your chest. It should’ve dissipated when Jobe told you those things about Jude. Instead you stood anxiously in the box with Denise and Winnie as the match stood stuck in a stalemate. Jobe was sat with a few of he and Jude’s hometown friends. A group of boys that were visiting. They were tight enough to be up here but not close enough to be going out with you later or staying at the house. As they were watching the match unfold, they were talking shit and unfortunately you heard more than you cared for but they got bolder when Jobe stepped away for a moment. As the match went on, Jobe joining you and his mum, the comments from Jude’s hometown friends continued to gnaw at you. They were louder now, more confident as they joked amongst themselves.

“Can’t believe he’s cuffed now,” one of them said with a chuckle, looking at you between quick glances sideways.

“Yeah, I thought Jude wouldn’t settle till he came back home. Bet he’s not gonna last with her though. He can’t be serious,” another added, laughing as if you weren’t standing right there, your stomach twisting with every word.

“Maybe it’s an image thing. Think they met through TAA.” One quipped. You kept your eyes on the field, trying to block it out, but the insecurity settled deep in your chest. Were you just some fleeting thing in Jude’s life? It was like what Jobe just said dissipated. Surely, Jude couldn’t be that devious. Just another girl he could casually show off for a season or two before moving on? The thought haunted you, and it was impossible to shake.

“Is she really his girl, or is she just another one?” one of them whispered, glancing at you with skeptical eyes.

“Maybe she’s just the end-of-year trophy,” another joked under his breath. It stung more than you wanted to admit. It wasn’t really about you specifically, it could've been about any girl, but that was the problem. You had been with Jude for a while now, and though things were progressing, there were still moments when you felt unsure of your place in his world. The casual teasing from the boys wasn’t anything malicious, just the usual banter they probably shared amongst themselves, but it felt like a direct attack on your insecurities. They had no idea you could hear them. Jobe had clarified when they first asked, casually confirming that you were, indeed, Jude’s girlfriend, but that didn’t stop their snide remarks. You wanted to brush it off, but it was hard when those doubts already lingered in your own mind. Was this all it was to them? Was that what Jude and Jobe’s ‘friends’ saw when they looked at you—someone temporary, disposable? You tried to focus on the match, but your thoughts kept circling back to another time you were at one of Jude’s games, and he had dismissed you in front of everyone. That memory haunted you. Now, you were standing there, waiting for him to come up after the match, terrified of how he’d act. Would it be the same? Would he brush you off like you didn’t matter? Every minute felt like an eternity as you stood near the entrance to the box, eyes glancing toward the door, waiting for Jude to come up after the final whistle blew. The crowd had begun to thin out, and Denise and Winnie were still in good spirits, chatting away post victory, but you felt like you were on edge, balancing on a fine line between calm and panic. When you finally saw Jud  cutting through the crowd, your heart raced, a wave of anxiety crashing over you. He was in his joggers, his face glowy from the post game. Your hands clenched at your sides, and for a brief moment, all the worst-case scenarios flashed through your mind. You remembered the way he had casually dismissed you as a friend, and it terrified you to think that it might happen again, especially after what you had overheard. Jude’s eyes scanned the entire box, and when they landed on you, your breath caught in your throat. Would he be distant? Cold? But then, a smile spread across his face, genuine and warm. He jogged over to you tiredly but with a happiness behind his eyes, his arms opening wide as he pulled you into a tight hug, burying his face in your hair.

“My angel. Mmmmm” He hummed. “Hi baby,” he murmured into your ear, and just like that, the tension in your body started to melt away. You wrapped your arms around him, clinging to him a little tighter than you normally would. He didn’t pull away. Instead, he kissed your temple softly, and in that moment, it didn’t matter what his friends thought. It didn’t matter that they had made jokes or questioned your relationship. Jude was here, and he was making it clear that you weren’t just some passing fling. But even as his affection calmed some of your fears, you couldn’t help but feel that nagging insecurity. Getting deeper into this relationship with Jude meant that your emotions were more vulnerable than ever, and you wondered if you’d always feel this way—wondering if you were enough, if you were truly seen. It was the first time in your life you really questioned if you were enough for someone. He cupped your face and moved you to give him a kiss, a real kiss.  And though his face had lit up at the sight of you, and he kissed you sweetly. His lips were soft and familiar, but instead of the usual warmth that flooded your body, you felt a strange hollowness. It wasn’t enough. You weren’t sure why—it was Jude, the man you loved, but it felt like something was missing. How many times had he done this? How many girls had stood in your place before, waiting for him after a game, only for it to eventually fizzle out? How many friends had been there long before and long after these relationships. You wanted to feel secure in his arms, but all you could hear were his friends’ snide comments, their laughter echoing in your head.Jude pulled back from the kiss, his eyes scanning your face with concern.  “Angel, what’s up with you?” he asked softly, sensing your hesitation.

“No, nothing.” You shook your head, forcing a smile. He frowned, not buying it. 

“Please talk to me,” he urged, his voice gentle but insistent. You didn’t want to—didn’t want to voice the swirling thoughts in your mind. But he wasn’t letting it go. “Come on, baby. Talk to me,” he pressed again, his hand resting on your waist as if trying to anchor you. You hesitated, your chest tightening. Then, almost without meaning to, the words slipped out.

“Are you really sure?” you asked, your voice small. “Are you really sure you want me when you have all of this?” You nodded outwards.

“What do you mean?” His brow furrowed, clearly confused. You gestured again vaguely to the room, to the crowd, to the friends and the girls in Bellingham jerseys who were still lingering around. 

“All of this… all these people, all these options. Why would you want me when you have everything?” You muttered. If you told yourself that you would be asking a boy if you were enough from him before you met Jude you would’ve laughed in your own face. You would’ve shook yourself by the shoulders and told yourself to get it together. But the way Jude’s face softened, and without missing a beat, he cupped your face in his hands reminding you that things had changed. You had changed.  

“All of this is nothing… Don’t want it if I don’t have you. Game’s not nearly as fun if I don’t get to see you after. Dedicating goals to you, angel. You’ve changed the game for me.” His words were firm, unwavering. But before you could respond, he took your hand and, without a second thought, turned and led you out of the room. You barely had time to process what was happening as you left the box’s lounge, leaving everyone behind. The suddenness of it caught you off guard, but he didn’t stop until you were both in the quiet of a hallway, away from prying eyes. Jude led you out from the lounge, past the stands, down the halls and onto the pitch. You hadn't expected him to keep going, but before you knew it, you were walking across the hallowed turf of the Bernabéu. The stadium was massive-empty now, but the weight of its size pressed in on you. It was surreal. You were standing at the center of the pitch where history was made, where Jude played his heart out in front of thousands upon thousands and millions on tv. Your eyes were wide, taking in the vastness of it all.

"This place is huge, oh my God..." You almost gasped  but Jude wasn't letting you finish. 

"Kiss me," he said, his voice low but insistent, pulling your attention back to him.

"What?" you asked, giggling nervously.

"Kiss me," he repeated. His gaze was steady, unwavering. "If you want to know that I'm serious about us, kiss me. Right here." You blinked, caught off guard by the intensity of his words. 

"No," you teased with a playful smile. "You kiss me." You taunted. Before you could say anything else, Jude grinned and silenced you with a kiss. His lips met yours with a hunger that sent a spark through you, making the enormous stadium feel like it was just the two of you. His arms wrapped tightly around your waist, pulling you closer as the kiss deepened. Your body melted into his, the world around you disappearing for that moment. When you finally pulled away, you couldn't help but laugh, a little breathless, filled with disbelief. You were standing in the middle of the Bernabéu, making out with Jude as if it was the most normal thing in the world. The absurdity of it hit you all at once. Then, from above, you heard loud booing echo across the field. You looked up and saw Jobe, Toby, and Winnie standing in one of the boxes, playfully jeering at you both. You laughed, burying your face in Jude's chest as he chuckled along, his arms still wrapped around you.

"Ignore them," Jude said, holding you tighter. He looked down at you with a playful glint in his eyes. "I'd kiss you in front of this place packed full if you'd let me." You raised an eyebrow. smirking. 

"Oh, yeah?" you teased with some mocking. He nodded, his cheeky smirk making your heart race. 

"I would've done it when the crowd was still here," he said, his tone teasing. "But, y'know, I was kinda busy... in the middle of a match and all. I had the game winner, slightly occupied but…"

You couldn't help but laugh again, shaking your head as you wrapped your arms around his neck. Jude leaned down, pressing another kiss to your lips, softer this time, as if to tell you without words that no one else mattered — just you.

And after your makeout at the center of the pitch the night turned to be one for the books—full of laughter, drinks, and carefree fun. You, Winnie, Toby, Jobe, and their friends went out in Madrid, the energy light and joyful, everyone basking in the post-match glow. You found yourself taking shots with Aurélien. Winnie watched relieved to see your mood shift from tense to carefree. 

“Looks like you haven’t taken the party girl out of her yet!” She teased Jude pinching his arm. You laughed, feeling lighter, like everything was just as it should be, with the music thrumming through your body, the night full of possibility. But then Jude was right by your side, and in the heat of the night, you two couldn’t help yourselves. Your lips met, and suddenly, you were kissing like you were the only two people in the room. The music faded into the background, and for a moment, it felt like nothing else mattered. But of course, your moment was interrupted by a chorus of groans from Jobe, Toby, and Winnie, and co.

“Booo! Get a room!” Jobe called out with a teasing grin.

“Grossier.” Aurelien added with a laugh. .

“I did not fly across time zones to third-wheel this!” Even Winnie joined in, mockingly covering her eyes. You pulled away from Jude with a laugh, feeling the high of the night, the warmth of his arms still around you, and the carefree joy of being surrounded by friends. It felt like you were living in a bubble of happiness, everything and everyone in sync, no worries about the future. But the next morning shattered that illusion.You woke up with a hangover, but it wasn’t just the physical pain in your head that hurt—it was the sinking realization that today, you had to say goodbye to Jude. The high from the night before was gone, replaced by a heavy feeling in your chest. It was like a slap in the face, a punch in the stomach, the reality of your situation crashing down all at once.

You had to leave. Jude had to stay. And the uncertainty of when you’d see each other again gnawed at you, making every moment feel that much more bittersweet. The morning you were to leave Madrid felt like the longest, yet the shortest. The hours slipped away, and before you knew it, you were staring at your open luggage, dreading the final moment when you’d have to zip it shut. Jude sat on the floor beside you, silent, arms around your waist as if he could anchor you here with him. The weight of his embrace, usually so comforting, felt unbearably heavy today. Every few minutes, Jude whispered, ‘I love you.’ His voice was soft, as if saying it aloud might keep the inevitable at bay. You wanted to say it back every time, but your throat was tight with emotion, and all you could do was nod and try to focus on folding the last of your clothes. The silence between you wasn’t peaceful—it was thick, oppressive, like both of you were holding your breath, afraid that speaking too much would shatter the fragile moment you had left. When you finally closed your suitcase, you realized you had packed away the sweatshirt you wanted to keep in your carry-on for the plane. A small inconvenience, but in that moment, it felt like too much. You sighed, defeated, and before you could even ask, Jude was already pulling off his own jumper, offering it to you.

“You’ll just take mine, angel” he said quietly, his eyes searching yours. You took it from him, holding it close to your chest, and the familiar scent of him—something you hadn’t even realized you’d grown so accustomed to—hit you all at once. It was like a punch to the gut, and suddenly, everything came crashing down. The dam broke, and tears welled up in your eyes before you could stop them. Jude didn’t hesitate. He reached for you, pulling you into a hug so tight it was as if he was trying to fuse you to him, like maybe if he held you close enough, you wouldn’t have to leave. His arms were secure around you, but there was a sadness in the way he held you, a desperate need to make this moment last. You buried your face in his chest, feeling the sobs rising up in your throat, trying to muffle them as you cried into him.

“I don’t want to be apart,” you whispered, your voice breaking. Jude’s breath hitched against your hair, and you felt him tighten his grip on you, his own emotions barely under control. 

“I know,” he breathed, his voice rough, thick with his own unshed tears. “ I know… I….I said I’d be strong for you, for us and I will be, but…” He pulled back just enough to cup your face in his hands, his thumbs gently wiping away your tears, though his own eyes were wet now, too. “I don’t want you to go. I love you too much. This hurts too much… bening apart” Hearing those words—seeing the pain in his eyes—made your heart twist painfully in your chest. You had always known long distance would be difficult, but this felt like so much more. It wasn’t just about the physical distance, it was the emotional chasm it threatened to create. The thought of being apart from him, of not waking up beside him, not sharing the mundane moments of life, felt unbearable. You leaned into his touch, your forehead resting against his. 

“I know,” you whispered back, your voice trembling. “I don’t want to go either. I’m sorry.” You apologized and for a brief moment you weren’t sure why. For a moment, the two of you just stayed like that, foreheads pressed together, sharing the same breath, as if that could keep you connected even after you left. Jude’s hands slid down your arms, pulling you into his lap, and you curled into him, feeling the steady beat of his heart against your own. It was in perfect sync, like the two of you had always been. But that made it even harder. How could you leave when everything felt so right? When every fiber of your being was telling you to stay, to fight against the pull of time and distance? You clung to him, your tears soaking into his shirt. “Why does it have to be this hard?” you whispered, more to yourself than to him.

“Because I care so much,  we care so much,” he said softly. “Because this matters.” Jude pressed a kiss to the top of your head, his lips lingering there as he tried to find the right words. The room was too quiet now, the ticking of the clock on the wall a cruel reminder that time was slipping away. You could feel the weight of the goodbye pressing down on you, heavy and suffocating. Jude’s hands ran through your hair, slow and deliberate, as if memorizing the feel of you one last time before he had to let go. You pulled away slightly, wiping at your eyes, though the tears wouldn’t stop. 

“I’m going to miss you so much,” you choked out, your voice breaking again. Jude’s own tears were finally falling, despite how hard he had been trying to hold them back. He looked at you with a sadness that broke your heart all over again. 

“I’m going to miss you more,” he whispered. “Every second.” He kissed you then, gently, tenderly, as if trying to pour all of his feelings into that one moment. His lips were soft against yours, and for a second, it was as if the world stopped spinning, like time itself paused just for the two of you. But it was fleeting, and when you pulled away, reality crashed back down around you. There was nothing left to do but say goodbye. No matter how much you wished you could stay, the world outside of this moment was waiting. Long distance wasn’t just a part of your relationship anymore—it was a reality you had to face, whether you were ready or not.

When you left Jude’s house in Madrid, you were holding back tears, trying to be strong as he walked you to the door. He had offered to come with you to the airport, but you knew it would only make things harder.

“Text me when you’re there, yeah?” Jude said softly, his hand resting on the small of your back as he leaned down to kiss you one last time.

“I will,” you whispered, your voice shaky. You could feel the weight of the impending distance between you, already missing him even though you hadn’t even left yet. Just as you stepped out, Jobe’s voice echoed from the living room. 

“Text me too!” he yelled, teasing as always, trying to lighten the mood. You both chuckled, but Jude’s laugh was bittersweet. His heart wasn’t in it, and you could see the sadness in his eyes.  As you drove away, Jude stood at the doorway, hands shoved deep into his pockets, watching the car pull out of the driveway. He lingered there for a moment before returning inside. He collapsed onto the couch beside Jobe, forcing a smile, but the silence between them was telling. After a while, Jude reached for his phone, pulling up a message thread. Denise came into the room not long after, a concerned look on her face.

 “Has she made it to the airport yet?” she asked, glancing between the boys.

“We need Y/N actually in the family group chat to keep tabs on her.” Jobe, ever the joker, chimed in. Jude grinned, but an idea sparked in his mind. Without hesitating, he created a group chat with all of his family members and, at the last second, added your number too. He sat there for a moment, staring at the screen, before typing…

‘Bellingham's checking in to make sure you’re all set.’

When your phone pinged with the message, you were sitting at the airport gate, trying to compose yourself for the flight. Seeing the notification light up your screen, your heart squeezed at the message. It wasn’t just a casual check-in—it was an inclusion, a subtle way of letting you know you were now part of them, of the Bellingham family. And even though it was just a text, it felt like more than that.Your heart ached, and you typed back a response…

 ‘Sadly taking off in a few. Thanks for having me. See you all soon xx.’

Almost immediately, your phone vibrated again, but this time it was from Jude’s number. 

‘Hope you don’t mind, angel. You being a part of the chat felt right. They miss you already, but couldn’t possibly as much as I do.’

You smiled, but tears pricked at your eyes. You stared at the screen for a moment before typing back, 

‘About time I was added! xx' 'Miss you too, more than I can say.’

As the plane taxied down the runway, your thoughts lingered on the warmth of his family, the connection you felt—not just with Jude, but with all of them. Being welcomed into their circle, however informally, made the impending distance feel less daunting. But nothing could quite fill the ache of being away from Jude.

The gallery opening felt like a disaster waiting to happen. Every small detail seemed wrong, and nothing felt like it was coming together. Every day since you left felt disastrous. You’d paced your apartment for hours, rifling through your wardrobe, tossing dresses and outfits onto the bed, convinced nothing looked right. Even your apartment in New York felt stale, disconnected from the life you’d been living with Jude, as if the distance between you both had grown with each day since you left Madrid. You slumped against the closet door, still half-dressed, feeling a sense of frustration bubbling up inside. A sharp knock at the door startled you. With a sigh, you padded barefoot to the door, swinging it open to find a delivery man standing there, a massive bouquet of flowers in his hands. The scent hit you immediately—vibrant, fresh, and full of life. It felt like someone had swung open a window, letting fresh air into your dull space.

“Delivery for Y/N L/N,” the man said with a smile, handing over the bouquet. Your breath hitched as you took the flowers, realizing instantly who they were from. You placed them on the counter, your fingers quickly reaching for the small card nestled within the petals.

“Sorry I can’t be there tonight, Angel. So proud of you. Love you always xx Judey.”

A smile tugged at the corners of your lips. You knew it was meant to be playful. The fact that he signed it Judey a nickname he loathed but occasionally would let slide if you said it. A subtle reminder that he was always there, even when he couldn’t physically be by your side. His thoughtfulness, his support—it was a lifeline you hadn’t realized you needed today. You stared at the flowers for a moment, feeling the tension slowly melting away. You had tucked back into your wardrobe to continue on your mission when  Winnie barged into your apartment, all business and energy, having flown back to the city for her own work, she had a pit stop in England to see her niece and even though she might’ve missed the England game, she was determined to make it to your show. Her eyes immediately fell on the extravagant bouquet, and she let out an exaggerated pout.

“Ughhh, Judeeyyyy,” she sighed dramatically, plucking the card from the flowers. “He’s so sweet it actually hurts.” You heard her overzealousness and you laughed softly as you stepped out from your wardrobe, half-dressed and still frazzled. 

“He’s very sweet and very far away,” you said with a smile, shaking your head with a frown. You spun around to show her the undone zipper of your black asymmetrical mini dress for her to help with.

“Got yourself a good one.” Winnie gave you a teasing smirk, waving the card before she helped. “You and Whit bagged two bestie teammates just leaving me out to dry here.” She joked. It was lighthearted, you both knew that,  Winnie currently had her own lovelife saga playing out. You chuckled, but your heart felt lighter, the weight of the day lessened by the presence of Jude’s flowers and Winnie’s unrelenting support. You stood there for a moment, taking in the warmth that came with their love and friendship, realizing that maybe everything wasn’t as chaotic as it seemed. The days leading to the opening to it had been spent scrambling, catching up on everything you had left behind while you were away. The weeks spent working from your laptop were not enough. New York had its pace, and after being gone for so long, it felt like you were out of sync with the city’s rhythm. You barely had time to breathe between finalizing the last touches, overseeing installations, and fielding endless calls from the gallery team. It was all a blur. The actual gallery opening was a whirlwind of frantic activity. And then, in the midst of the chaos of the opening, you heard the familiar hum of the door. You turned, half-expecting another guest or buyer to bombard you with questions, but instead, you were greeted with a smile that made you pause. Louis stood in the doorway, a calm presence in the storm of your evening. His smile was warm, comforting, his toothy grin that reminded you so much of your father. He had RSVPed, of course, but in the frenzy of preparing for the opening, you had completely forgotten. For a moment, you were just happy to see him, your shoulders relaxing ever so slightly.But then, you noticed the figure standing beside him. Gabriel. In truth, Gabriel just happened to be in town, this wasn’t meant to be like a swindling but the sight of him knocked the air from your lungs. You hadn’t expected this. Not tonight. Not ever, really. It had been ages since you had seen him, and in all the chaos of your life recently—your relationship with Jude, the long-distance struggle, your art—you had pushed Gabriel from your mind since Louis used him as a reference point of who’d be better suited for you at the chateau. Yet here he was, standing beside your brother, looking just like he did when you last saw him. That old, familiar pull of history, the memories you’d long since buried, resurfaced in an instant. Your brother, oblivious to the sudden tension tightening in your chest, almost forgetting his suggestion to you in France, walked toward you, his arms outstretched for a hug. You smiled, though it felt tight, your eyes flickering from him to Gabriel as they approached.

“Ouah, you didn’t think I’d miss tonight ma cherie, did you?” your brother said, his voice teasing as he embraced you. But your gaze remained locked on Gabriel, who stood back a little, waiting, watching.

“Non, bien sûr que non” [no, of course not] you managed to reply, forcing your attention back to your brother, hugging him tightly, trying to ignore the weight of Gabriel’s presence just steps away. But when your brother pulled back, Gabriel stepped forward. His eyes met yours, and for a moment, you were frozen, caught in a time warp where the past and present collided. You couldn’t tell if the feeling in your stomach was nervousness or something deeper, something unresolved.

“Salut,” Gabriel said, his voice soft, a stark contrast to the loud buzz of the gallery around you. You swallowed, trying to steady yourself. It wasn’t that anything happened between you two, fine, maybe a messy make out at a cotillon, but then you grew up, he ventured more in a straight edged life and judged you for your own path but there was something bizarre that lingered. Maybe it was the intersection of your two families, it was more the idea of you two. Let’s just say Louis wasn’t the first person to suggest the pairing. 

“Hi, hi, thank you so much for coming” you replied, your voice barely above a whisper. The room felt too small, the noise too loud, and the world seemed to close in around the two of you. “c'est bon de te voir.” [it's good to see you.]  Your brother, sensing none of this, launched into conversation, but you could barely focus. All you could feel was the weight of Gabriel’s eyes on you, his presence pulling at something you thought you’d left behind, like your youth or a possible path you could’ve taken in your life. If you were with someone like Gabriel… he’d be here supporting you. This night, this gallery, wasn’t intended to be so reflective of your life ahead. It was about celebrating your present, your art. And now, the past had come back to stand right in front of you. 

The night had stretched far beyond what you anticipated. The room, with its artfully arranged displays and soft lighting, blurred around you as the champagne coursed through your system, leaving you slightly tipsy and far too loose in conversation. You found yourself in a tucked-away corner of the gallery, speaking to Gabriel, of all people. You hadn’t intended to spend so much time with him, but once he’d started talking about his mum, the familiar empathy you had for him pulled you in. It wasn’t about you and him—not anymore. There was solace between you two, you thought, like you knew what could’ve been, but you didn’t want that—not anymore. You could tell he was struggling at the party, and maybe, in some subconscious way, you wanted to help. But then again, the champagne made everything feel softer, easier, even this reunion you hadn’t expected. As the conversation deepened, you caught sight of Louis moving through the crowd. His expression was unreadable, a quiet calm masking something far more intense. You didn’t think much of it at first, but then you saw his stride quicken as he made his way toward you and Gabriel. Without a word, Louis slid beside you, draping his arm around your shoulder in a way that only a brother could—protective, almost territorial. 

“So, what time’s the kick-off for Jude’s match tomorrow? ”His voice was light, casual, but the undertone was sharp as he asked you. At the mention of Jude’s name, a soft smile tugged at your lips. You couldn’t help it. Even across an ocean, he was still the center of your world, the one person who grounded you amidst all the chaos. But Gabriel… Gabriel hadn’t expected that. He misread the entire situation, and you could see it in the way his posture stiffened, in the way his eyes darkened with confusion. Louis had seen it too, and that’s why he was here.

“Pourquoi? Why are you asking?” you replied, slightly amused, but still a little tipsy, playing along with Louis’s sudden curiosity.

"Oh, je fais juste en sorte que tout le monde ici sache que Jude est ton petit-ami.” [Oh, just making sure everyone here knows that Jude is your boyfriend.] Louis’s voice became more deliberate as he emphasized, almost too casually. He lingered on the word, each syllable dripping with purpose as his eyes flickered to Gabriel.Gabriel blinked, caught off guard, and quickly excused himself. He mumbled something about needing to speak with someone else, but the message was clear: he didn’t like the mention of Jude, and the awkward tension of the moment was enough to make him retreat. Gabriel stepped away feeling like he’d officially lost a battle he hadn’t even known he was in. And the moment Gabriel was out of earshot, you spun toward Louis, incredulous. 

“What the fuck was that?” you hissed, not sure whether to laugh or be angry. Louis looked down at you, his brow furrowed. 

“Quoi? I didn’t do anything wrong. You were flirting with him.” He explained like it was incredibly obvious. You threw your hands up, exasperated. 

“Flirting? With Gabriel? Louis, come on, you know me better than that. I wasn’t flirting—I was just talking to him.” Your voice softened, a mix of frustration and confusion. “And why do you even care?” He crossed his arms, his defensiveness rising. 

“Because he’s a twat. He’s not good for you. Jude’s good for you.” Your heart sank at the mention of Jude again, this time not in a happy way, but in the way that reminded you of the ache of missing him. You stared at Louis, searching for an explanation, and after a moment, his expression softened. With a sigh, Louis became sentimental. 

“Look, I haven’t seen you this happy in years. Not since grand-mère was alive.” His voice broke slightly, and you could see the sincerity behind his tough exterior. “You’re at peace with Jude. You’re happy in a way you haven’t been in so long, and I…I just don’t want you messing around with someone like Gabriel and forgetting what you have.” The words hit you like a wave, and suddenly, everything felt heavier. You were silent for a moment, caught between understanding and frustration. Louis pulled you into a hug, and you could feel the guilt in his embrace. “I’m sorry Jude’s not here tonight,” he murmured. “But, for what it’s worth, I kind of wish he was. At least then I’d have someone more interesting to hang out with than Gabriel.” Louis smirked.  You couldn’t help but laugh at that, though it was bittersweet. You pulled back, looking at your brother with a mixture of affection and exasperation. 

“C’est impossible.” [You’re impossible.] You whined through a giggle. Getting Louis’ approval was everything you didn’t know you needed. 

“Yeah, well, so are you,” he teased, his smile returning. But you both knew the underlying truth—that Jude wasn’t there, and his absence made everything feel just a little bit off. The night had gone as well as you could have hoped. 

The gallery opening was a success, and despite the exhaustion that followed, you went to sleep with a quiet sense of accomplishment. But even in the midst of your personal victory, you missed Jude. It was like an ache just beneath the surface, a longing that tugged at you no matter how proud you were of yourself. When morning light peeked through your curtains, the first thing you did was reach for your phone. Groggy but smiling, you called Jude. His face appeared on the screen, already awake, with that familiar cheeky smirk that always sent butterflies through you. He looked like he was up to something, and you immediately felt a flutter of curiosity mixed with nerves.

“What’s going on with you?” you asked, squinting at the screen, your voice still thick with sleep. He leaned back a little, tilting his head to the side as if showing you something just out of view. 

“Angel,” he said in that teasing tone that made your heart skip. “What do you think?” Your eyes widened, taking in the sight of a fresh, small tattoo on his skin—a delicate pair of angel wings, thin and simple, just barely etched into his tanned skin. You blinked, disbelief flooding you. 

“Are you fucking nuts?!” you shouted with a grin so wide you couldn’t suppress it. Jude’s smirk only deepened, clearly enjoying your reaction. 

“Nah,” he said casually, as if it wasn’t a big deal. “Just want you with me all the time.”

“Oh my god…” All you could manage was  breathless shock. He laughed softly, shaking his head. 

“If we break up, I’ll just have a nice little reminder of the most beautiful girl I’ve ever met.” He teased and you rolled your eyes at his poor joke breaking you out of your state of disbelief.  You laughed, your heart racing, a mix of emotions flooding you. 

“You’re joking, right? It’s not actually real?” You questioned his authenticity. Something about it felt so ludicrously insane. 

“It is,” he said confidently, his grin unwavering. You blinked again, processing the weight of it.

“I love it,” you giggled, “I love you.” Your jaw left still slacked.

“Good. You’re stuck on me now, you know.” He chuckled, his voice softening, Your smile faded into something softer, more serious. 

“It’s not though, right? Like, you’re not serious?” You tried to circle back to if this was actually real or not. Jude raised an eyebrow, leaning closer to the camera. 

“Dead serious. It’s real, Angel. You’re with me, wherever I go now. Taking the pitch at Wembley with me now. You gonna watch your debut tonight?” He asked with a smirk. You stared at him, still in awe, the reality of what he had done settling in . You weren’t sure whether to laugh, cry, or both. You were only able to nod with a smile.  As your FaceTime with Jude ticked by you started to gain a bit more of reality back, he tilted his head to show you the tattoo once over and your mind raced with a million questions. 

“Why didn’t you tell me you were doing this? When did you decide? Did you think it hurt?” You fired them off in quick succession, your voice full of excitement and disbelief. Jude chuckled at your barrage, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. 

“I’ll answer all your questions, promise, but I really have to get going. Got to get ready for the match later.” His eyes softened as he added, “I just wanted to say good morning, tell you I love you, and… show you this.” He tapped the fresh tattoo with a small grin, almost shy about the whole thing. You couldn’t stop giggling, your heart swelling with every word. 

“Well... a good morning, an I love you too, and a… wow,” you said, still processing the image of those delicate angel wings etched into his skin. It felt surreal. You laughed, but it was the kind of laugh that bubbled up because you didn’t know what else to do with the rush of emotions you felt. 

“Jude, you’re fucking nuts!” you finally said, shaking your head in disbelief, your cheeks hurting from smiling so hard. He grinned, knowing you well enough to recognize that your laughter was a mix of awe and affection. 

“Yeah, well, you make me a little crazy, Angel.” As the call neared its end, you could feel that familiar ache, the distance between you two weighing heavier. But seeing those fine, simple angel wings—his way of keeping you close—made your heart ache in a different way. It wasn’t just sadness; it was love. Pure, brash, unapologetic love. Being apart stung, but knowing Jude had taken such a bold, permanent step to close that gap, to hold onto you even when you were miles away, was more than you ever expected. It was a gesture that meant the world.

“Alright, I’ll let you go,” you said, your voice softening. “But… Jude, seriously—thank you. It’s so sweet, and I… I love it. I love you.” you cooed gently. 

“I love you too, Angel,” he replied with a smile that lingered on your screen long after you hung up, leaving you sitting there, still giggling, still in awe of how deeply he loved you. After your call with Jude, you sat in stunned silence for a moment, processing everything. He really did it. He really got a tattoo—for you. Without thinking, you immediately FaceTimed Whitney, your heart still racing with excitement and disbelief. 

 “Whit, I need you to do me a favor.” As soon as her face popped up on the screen, you blurted out,

“What’s going on?” Whitney raised an eyebrow, sensing the urgency in your voice. 

“You cannot tell anyone. I swear to God, he got a tattoo… for me,” you said, your voice filled with a mixture of awe and disbelief.

“He what?!” Whitney shrieked, causing Teddy to let out a little annoyed yelp in the background. 

“Mama! No!” she groaned tiredly, clearly disturbed by the sudden outburst. Whitney let out a soft laugh and an apology to her little girl but her attention was fast back to you. 

“I swear,” you repeated, trying to calm your own voice.

“Jude? With a tattoo?” Whitney asked again, her voice laced with confusion as if trying to reconcile the mental image of Jude with ink. “Are you sure?”

“I swear, Whit,” you confirmed, nodding emphatically. “It’s for me…”

“Where?” she asked, now fully invested in the details. A smug smirk formed on your lips. 

“Right behind his perfect ear. You can’t really see it unless you’re looking for it—it’s faint, just these little angel wings.” You explained. Whitney leaned closer to her phone screen, almost as if she could see the tattoo through your words. 

“And you’re sure it’s there?” she asked, sounding doubtful, not because she didn’t believe you but just out of the pure shock that you were also just in. “I haven’t heard him talk about getting one.”

“Whitney,” you said seriously, leaning in as if to emphasize your point, “Listen to me. Look for it tonight, yeah?” You asked. She let out a breath, still trying to process everything.

“I mean… I’m still stuck on Jude with a tattoo. For you.” She laughed. 

“I know,” you agreed, still half in disbelief yourself. “I can’t tell if it was like… a stupid joke, or if he’s actually serious.” You told her with a stupid smile on your face. Whitney’s expression softened into a grin. 

“Honestly? I’m shocked but Jude’s kind of impulsive like that, isn’t he?” She shrugged, finally wrapping her head around the whole thing.  You nodded, but the thought of him actually getting permanent ink to remind him of you—of how much he cared—left you feeling a little overwhelmed. 

“I mean, we talked about tattoos before. It’s not like a huge* surprise he’d get something… Denise has some, Toby, I have some…” You tried to rationalize his decision or downplay it in your mind. 

“But you didn’t think he’d get one for you,” Whitney finished for you, her voice laced with teasing.

“Exactly,” you said, biting your lip with a mix of giddiness and uncertainty. “But it’s there, Whit. I saw it.” Whitney let out a laugh, still shaking her head.

“Well, I’ll be sure to keep an eye out for it when I see him.” She confidently smirked ready to do whatever job you were asking of her.

“Thanks,” you said with a soft laugh. “But seriously, don’t tell anyone. Not yet, at least.” Whitney’s smile changed into one more conspiratorial. 

“I won’t. But fuck, this is big. Jude Bellingham with a tattoo for his girl? That’s next-level.” She told you with mischief lighting behind her eyes. You giggled, the reality settling in deeper now. 

“Yeah… it kinda is.” You admitted. Whitney’s face twisted into a playful grin as she teased, 

“I mean, my fiancé doesn’t even have a tattoo for me or, you know, the child I birthed for him, but yeah, sure, good for you. Pussy’s bomb I guess ” she giggled, rolling her eyes in mock indignation. You couldn’t help but laugh along with her, shaking your head.

 “Okay, okay! I get it.” But as your laughter subsided, the familiar twinge of insecurity crept in, and you hesitated before speaking again.

“Whit…” you started, your voice dropping a little. “When you go to the game later, can you—” You hesitated, biting your lip. “Will you let me know if there are, like, girls there? Like old girls from Birmingham?” Your question hung in the air for a moment, and Whitney burst out laughing again, though her laughter soon softened into something more sympathetic. She pouted, her eyes softening as she saw the anxiety creeping into your expression.

“Wait, Y/N… come on. Hold up,” she said, shaking her head with a teasing grin. “You’re telling me this boy might have a tattoo for you, and you want me to check for other girls?” She mocked you in an exaggerated tone, mimicking your sheepishness. 

“I know! It’s ridiculous,” you admitted, still laughing but feeling a little shy about how transparent your insecurity was.You let out an embarrassed laugh, covering your face. 

“Okay,” she said, nodding. “I’ll do both for you. I’ll look for the tattoo and check if any girls are hanging around.” Whitney gave you a softer smile, her teasing easing into reassurance.

“Thank you,” you sighed, grateful but still feeling a bit silly.

“But seriously, you’ve got nothing to worry about. Jude’s all about you, annggell.” Whitney gave you a playful glare, her tone light but firm as she sang the pet name

🪩🫶❤️‍🔥🍹🌞🍒 Thank you for reading! Please like, comment, or message what you think of the chapter 🍒🌞🍹❤️‍🔥🫶🪩

Next part - Chapter 19 - Judey xx

[someone1348]

It's happening again, I'm saying this now it's been years since I wrote anything, so I might be a bit rusty! However! I've seen inside out 2 twice now, and I genuinely love it with all my heart! So regardless of anything, I'm making a fic! I don't know if I'll post it, but I'm inspired, so I'm making it!

The people in this: Lee!Anxiety, Ler!Joy

Tw: General Anxiety and Tickles, of course, so if you don't like it, keep scrolling :]

If you have not seen the new movie, inside out 2, I don't recommend reading this! There's slight spoilers, so just be warned! But yeah, it's based on the new one!

With all of that being said I hope you all enjoy! :]

-K <3

____________~☆°♡°☆°♡°☆~______________

Hands off the console!

After everything that happened at the three day hockey camp, things have gotten a lot better for both Riley and her mind.

She's a more complex person now, but that's because she's growing, and her emotions are growing with her! Throughout the summer, Riley's emotions have found ways of getting along, working together, and handling some of the more...intense...emotions.

It felt perfect! Too perfect...it was Riley's first game today with her new team. And yeah, some days are harder than others, but there was something off about today. Joy could feel it. She kept looking over at Anxiety as she would see her fidget, desperately wanting to touch the console.

Joy exhaled and smiled "I know you're worried anxiety! but Riley's got this! It's a great day! Our girls got it! Just work on the breathing exercises we learned"

Anxiety looked over at her quickly and nodded, trying to breathe, but her mind was elsewhere, running a million miles a minute. Fidgeting with her hands, she couldn't watch as Riley stepped onto the ice. With every buzzer sound, she flinched, every cheer, every little thing was bothering her. She decided to sit in her special chair until it ended.

It felt like an eternity for the anxious emotion. Her eyes stared hard at the console. And to her demise... they lost. On their very first game, with a new team, they lost! The orange emotions eyes went wide. Sadness took over the console, causing their girl to frown and sulk with the team before joy took over again.

"We'll get them next time! You don't learn anything from success, come on guys!" Riley said as the team smiled and nodded. Things were all good. They went out for pizza, and the emotions relaxed. Everyone except anxiety who desperately clung onto her chair. She didn't trust herself to get up. She knew if she did, she'd run straight for the console.

After a fun time with the new team, Riley was safe in her room, about to go to bed. "Are you gonna join us and get some rest Anxiety?" Joy asked as Anxiety was still glued to the seat.

"Y-Yeah! I'm just gonna sleep here tonight!" She forced a smile as Joy nodded. She didn't trust it, but she knew she had to give it a chance. Joy slowly curled up in bed. She got about five minutes in bed before she was woken up by the sound of buzzing in the console room. Riley's awake, and she knew exactly who caused it.

Joy sighed gently and yawned before heading down to the console room. "Anxiety?"

The orange emotion squeaked and took her hands away from the console. "Oh! Hey Joy!" She went back to it, the soft sounds of clicking filling up the room as Anxiety replayed all of the events of the loss in Riley's mind. Her imagination station running wild with every bad scenario that could potentially come from this moment.

"We lost the game, our friends are so mad at us for that!"

"What if we're not actually good at Hockey and the coach made a mistake?"

"We're gonna be alone forever!"

"We're never gonna win!"

"This is a terrible stamp on our unbeatable record!"

"We need to do better we need-" Her spiraling was interrupted by her own squeak and an unfamiliar sensation on her ribs. She whipped her head around to look at Joy.

Joy stood their smirking before poking her ribs again once more. Anxiety jumped this time with another squeak.

"Jumpy are we?~"

Anxiety blinked "Jumpy?! Me?! No! Not me!"

Joy smirked more. "Hands off the console, right now"

The orangette shook her head no slowly as she gripped the controls, her chest falling up and down slowly as she took deep breaths.

"Listen...I know you've been wanting to be in control all day, but Riley needs to sleep, and these scenarios are not going to happen, what's going on right now that we can control?" She smiled as Anxiety blinked.

"I- listen I understand, but! Today's really tough! I need to take control of the console! There's too much! We're-" Anxiety went on another rant. Joy knew it was going to be a harder day than normal, the loss didn't help, but Joy learned over time to just be patient with Anxiety. It may not be her strong suit, but she's trying. Everything was just going so good though!

"Anxiety"

The only response she got was more ranting about the what if's and things that most likely won't happen. 'Okay, that's it,' Joy thought to herself before wiggling her fingers gently against Anxiety's sides as she gripped the console.

"EE!- Wha-haha what? Wahahait! Haha!" She let out a few panicked giggles, snapping out of her spiral she let go of the console, trying to make sense of it all.

Joy giggled gently under her breath "What's the matter? Never been tickled before?" She kept going with her sides.

"Nohohot that I remehember! JOy! Haha! Stop ihIhit!" Her giggles were more light now but fluctuated in pitch based on where Joy's tickly fingers went as they trailed up and down the length of her sides.

Joy giggled again along with her. "That's right! I keep forgetting you guys are still technically new emotions!" She continued moving to her stomach. "Tickle Tickle Tickle~"

Anxiety's eyes widened as she fell back onto her chair with a loud squeal. Joy's face pulled itself into a smirk as she followed Anxiety to her chair, standing beside it, moving her fingers back onto her stomach. "I found it~" she teased as they wiggled against her tickle spot.

"JOHOHOY! WAHAHAIT!"

Joy smiled "Wait for what? You're losing me here anxiety! I can't understand you with all that laughter going on!"

"IHIHIT FEHEHEELS SO MUCH WOHORSE THAN THE OHOHOTHER SPOT!"

Joy giggled and nodded "Because it's more ticklish than your sides are" she continued "TickleTickleTickleTickle~"

Anxiety curled up into a ball to try and get away from the feeling, but that only made it worse. If she was being honest though, she didn't hate this?

"JOHOHOHOY!"

"That's my name? You need something giggles?"

"THATS NOHOT MY NAHAHAME AND YOU! EEE! KNOHOHOW IT! HAHAHA!" Anxiety huffed out through her laughter trying to sound tough.

"You're right! Squeaks suits you better!"

"NOHOHOHO!"

"Yessss~"

The two went back and forth for what felt like hours, at least in anxiety's mind it felt that long.

"PLEHEHEASE! I CAHAHAN'T!"

Not wanting to overwhelm her further, Joy gently retracted her hands away before rubbing the ghost tickles away.

"You okay Anxiety?" She asked hesitantly

Anxiety nodded and smiled, wipping a gentle tear from her eye. "I honestly didn't hate that...it pulled me out of my head...and now I'm sleepy"

Joy smiled and nodded "Well Riley is asleep, and so is everyone else, it's about time you get some rest too."

Anxiety exhaled and nodded. "Yeah...I'm sorry for keeping you up Joy, and waking you up earlier..."

Joy smiled "It's all good, and hey it was a learning experience!"

Anxiety blinked "how so?"

Joy smirked. "We found a new way to handle your bad days~" she wiggled her fingers teasingly at her, causing another squeak to come out of the other emotion in the room.

Anxiety sighed and waved her off "I'll see you in the morning Joy!"

The bluette smiled and nodded "Goodnight, Squeaks"

"Ughh!"

_________________________________________

I honestly don't know how to feel about this one! But hey! It got me to write again! :]

I hope you all enjoyed it! This won't be a regular franchise I write for, but I really wanted to do it. It was such a great movie!

[bimboamyrose]

Unfamiliar - Ch. 16: The Fool

Art: @mmm-asbestos​ ☆ First 2 chapters ☆ Prev. (Ch. 15)  ☆ AO3

Ch. 16 - The Fool

“Did you have an errand in town or something?” Amy sensed his anxiety.

In minutes, the pair were miles away. They quickly found themselves in town, in the center of a populated shopping area. Some passerby who recognized Sonic began rubbernecking as they milled about. 

He shifted his vision around apprehensively as he allowed Amy to step down from his arms. 

“Do you think he’s tailing us? Don’t think it’s the best idea to bring him right back to your place, considering…”

“I don’t think Eggman has anything fast enough to keep up with you” she started. “Oh- well, not anymore. Besides, you’re hungry, remember?” Amy joked. They stood near a selection of restaurants and cafes.

“Oh- yeah!” Sonic exhaled. “We should give Tails a call, though-”

“Let’s not,” Amy blurted out. It wasn’t exactly how she’d planned it, but this was just the opportunity she needed to be alone with Sonic.

“Huh? Why?” 

“I didn’t bring my communicator,” she tried to sound nonchalant.

“I’ll just run over there-”

Amy dashed past him to a glass storefront, gasping theatrically. “I’ve been wanting to check out this new cafe!”

“Well I was thinking to grab Tails and-”

“Let’s sit down inside!” Amy insisted, pushing her way through the front doors.

Not in an arguing mood, Sonic followed inside begrudgingly. 

A hostess escorted them to a small table by a window. It overlooked a fountain in the square. It was past lunchtime, but a few other pairs lingered in neighboring tables; couples gazing dreamily at each other or sharing desserts. Sonic shifted his own eyes to the window. He fidgeted in his chair.

“So,” Amy sighed, “that was… interesting.”

“No kidding.” He didn’t turn to her.

“He… knows about Metal,” she continued.

Sonic spun back to face her gravely.

“Oh, come on, there’s no way he’s listening to us here. Relax!”

“Guess you’re right.” He turned bleakly back to the window. “What do we do?”

Amy was unsure herself. “Maybe… Going to this grand opening thing won’t be so bad?”

“Come on, Ames, that’s an obvious trap.” Sonic leaned an elbow onto the table and turned to her. “And what about your roommate? Eggman kinda owns him.”

“Metal will make the right choice,” she waved off his question.

He looked skeptical. “Why are you so confident about that?”

“‘Cause,” she trailed off, unclear of her own reasoning. “Well, he barely even remembers right now. I’m not worried about him.”

“Eggman wants him back.” Sonic returned with a concerned frown. “He can’t live with you forever.”

“I know,” Amy replied sheepishly. There hadn’t been much thought put into what exactly was going to happen to Metal, or when. Though she understood Metal couldn’t hang around much longer if she got involved with Sonic. 

“What do you think he wants him for?”

“To… build?” Amy shrugged. “It seems like Eggman’s only priority right now.”

The pair each looked somberly to the window until they caught each other’s eyes in the reflections. Amy  pouted, uncertain of what else to say about the situation. Sonic grinned at his friend gingerly and met her face to face.

“We always figure it out,” he said as confidently as he could manage. “We’re a great team, after all.”

The misgiving situation weighed on Sonic, his usual direct approach to problems ineffective in all the uncertainty. But he was nothing if not a pacesetter for his team. It didn’t do them any good for him to be gloomy.

“Yeah,” Amy smiled with a similar hesitance.

A waiter interrupted them with his introduction. The short minutes they spent ordering lavish sounding drinks and pastries calming Amy and Sonic. By the time the waiter retracted the menus, the two had relaxed in their chairs. They smiled more comfortably now, no less uncertain but confident they could tackle the situation as a team. 

“If Metal’s really on our side, maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to send the guy back his bot,” Sonic commented between bites of a croissant.

“If he wants to go back.” Amy took a sip from her tea, lifting her eyes to him over the rim, hesitant about what he’d think of the remark.

“Well if you want him on the team,” Sonic shrugged.

“I mean, it’s not about what I want…” 

“Yeah, yeah,” Sonic smiled at her knowingly. “Metal can do what he wants. I won’t give him a hard time- if he really isn’t up to something with Eggman.”

“Uh-huh. I’ll talk to him.” Amy was eager to get off the subject. 

“So… what’d you think of the food?”

“Pretty good, I guess.” Sonic took a sip from a tall glass of some kind of local handcrafted soda the waiter had offered as an alternative to tea and coffee. It was the only drink that sounded mildly good to him. “Little fancy, though.”

“Mhm…” 

She reached into her pocket for the all-important card she’d pulled that morning and told herself it was time to broach the subject. Her cheeks felt warm.

“I like it,” she continued, “It’s kinda- I don’t know- romantic, isn’t it?”

“Yeah… I guess you could say that.” He took an uncomfortable look around the room, sucking up his drink impetuously. 

Amy brought her cup back to her lips apprehensively. “It’s a cute place for a date. Maybe- maybe we can come back for one sometime?”

A fizzy gulp caused Sonic to cough and clear his throat. Amy blinked at him from behind her teacup, hiding her flushed face, panicking internally.

“I-” he started, pausing to clear his throat a second time. He looked away from her in embarrassment. “I mean, we’re not, uh, dating, though.” A flight response kicked in and he glanced toward the front door.

“But… We could be.” Her words were a demure squeak. “Don’t you think?”

“I’m gonna be heading back to Tails’, I think-”

“Sonic.” Amy set down the cup. She swallowed. “Can we try?”

Sonic steadied himself with a deep breath. It felt wrong to continue dodging the matter. He met her pleading face with a poignant seriousness he didn’t often display.

“Amy, I don’t think that’s gonna happen,” he said plainly.

Expecting some hesitancy on his part, she pushed on. “Aw, but we’d be so good together! You even said we make such a great team!”

“We do, but-”

“And we’ve known each other for so long! Think of all that history! We’ve always been there for each other and stayed friends even when I was, well, a little obsessed- But you stuck around and that meant so much to me! And-”

“Stop.” Sonic clanked his glass on the table between them. “All this romantic stuff putting everything at stake- I can’t do it, Amy. Much less with you.”

The response left her taken aback, even more than she could have predicted. “So… it’s a problem because it’s me?”

“Sort-of- I-”

She sat upright, loudly clanking her teacup on the table. “And it’s not just because you don’t like me?” Amy’s eyes began to sting as tears threatened to well up. 

Sensing an outburst, Sonic leaned away nervously. Being on the receiving end of Amy’s anger was never an enviable position to be in. “Uh…”

“Well? What’s so wrong with dating me? Are you still mad about how immature I was back when we met or something?”

“No! Listen, Amy, I don’t like you that way,” he searched for the right words, frantically and unsuccessfully. “And even if I did, I just don’t think I could ever be in that kind of relationship with you. You’re-”

“I’m what?” Angry tears escaped the moment she stood up abruptly. Her chair screeched against the floor loudly, attracting the attention of the diners around them. “I’m not good enough for you somehow?” 

“Amy, that’s not fair,” he scolded. “You know that’s not what I was about to say!”

“What’s not fair is that you always reject me and never tell me why.” She threw her napkin against the table to free her hands, digging through her pocket aggressively. “But I get it now.”

“Amy, come on, please-” Sonic lowered his head in embarrassment as whispers circulated around them. He lowered his voice.

“Please what? Please stop being so loud and obnoxious? Stop being a pest? Stop,” a sob gave her pause, anger melting into heartbreak. “Stop being an annoying little rascal around you?”

The other patrons were staring daggers at them. Sonic melted further into his seat. “This is why I didn’t want to go out,” he muttered. “I was trying to avoid this-”

“Seriously? Ugh!” Amy scoffed, indignant and deeply frustrated. In that moment, that embarrassingly public moment, the only sensible explanation for his rejection were the parts she hated about herself. Her angry outbursts, the insufferable clinginess. Tears continued their path down her cheeks as she dug through her pockets again. Finding the bills she was after, Amy tossed a fistfull onto the table. 

The back of her gloves became smudged with makeup as Amy fiercely wiped at her eyes and cheeks. At least she could manage not to sob her way out. At least she wouldn’t add pathetic to the list of her flaws. “I’m leaving!”

“Amy, wait!” Sonic shot up from his seat. “I didn’t mean that-”

“Don’t follow me!”she cried, asserting herself past the hostess and front door. She felt everyone’s eyes on her back, right until the door shut loudly behind her.

Once she was out of sight, all those eyes briefly turned back to Sonic. The other guests began muttering to each other or turning away with secondhand embarrassment. 

More than the outburst itself, Sonic immediately felt self-conscious about his response to Amy’s distress, letting all those nosy strangers get in the way.

He sighed at the crumpled notes on the table, letting the public shame wash over him. Amid the wadded bills, he spotted a familiar symbol adorning the back of a creased card. Recognizing it as part of Amy’s deck, Sonic picked it from clutter. 

Flipping it on its face, he grimaced at the irony. 

“The fool, huh? Man…”

In the square, Amy stomped through walkways and around pedestrians. Her cloudy sights were set on the nearby bus stop. The last thing she wanted to do was sob on public transportation, but what choice did she have?

She planted her hunched form on the bus stop’s only bench. A man in a pressed suit stood nearby and ogled for a few moments, turning and stepping away only after being met by a snapping, fiery glare from the sad-looking girl. 

“That’s what I thought,” she grumbled, bowing her head back down onto her palms.

For however much she tried, there was no holding back the floodgates. She sat breathing deeply, trying to calm herself. But her eyes spilled over with tears, leaking between her fingers and onto her lap. Her face was red hot. She didn’t even want to think about how she looked. 

Just as she’d resolved to breathe through her woes until she got home, Amy caught a familiar whirring growing closer overhead.

Amy sat up, quickly wiping at her face with the back of her hand. Sitting on her hands to hide her dirty gloves, she spotted him. 

“Metal,” she sniffled, “what are you doing in town?”

Metal floated toward the bench, touching down just next to her. 

She spun away from him, trying desperately to tidy herself up. She was hardly excited to explain her current state.

Sensing something was off, Metal leaned in for a closer look at her.

“Um… a- a-choo!” Amy forced a sneeze. “Sorry, I have some allergies,” she lied. “All the pollen this time of year…”

That was strange to Metal, being that Amy always seemed to have her nose in some kind of spring bouquet. He was about to press further when she sneezed again.

“I don’t have any tissues with me,” Amy blubbered. “It’s sorta embarrassing…” That much was true.

Rather than question it, Metal scanned their surroundings for a solution. He spotted the man who’d been staring at Amy moments earlier once again gawking, this time at both of them. Metal hardly noticed the man’s gaze, however, more preoccupied with the neatly folded pocket square adorning the front of his jacket. He started toward the man.

Realizing the danger, the guy backed away, holding up his palms in surrender. He grinned awkwardly at the menacing robot approaching him to cut the tension.

It didn’t stop Metal. He pointed at the man’s chest, indicating the blazer’s front pocket. He then held up his palm in command.

The man looked around frantically for the possibility that he could be approaching someone else, but there wasn’t a soul in sight. Not understanding Metal’s intentions, the man rustled through his pockets in a panic. 

As Metal closed in on him, the man whipped out his wallet, shakily holding it out and turning his face away from the frightening sight.

Believing himself to be in the middle of a mugging, the man finally pleaded meekly, something about taking the wallet. Metal ignored him and his outstretched hand and instead reached forward towards the cowering man’s chest. The man shut his eyes.

Metal snatched the pocket square out of the man’s jacket pocket and promptly forgot about his existence as he rotated back around to Amy. 

He placed a gentle hand on her shoulder, holding the crisply folded handkerchief in front of her. She raised a brow, confused at the gesture.

 She turned to him. “Where did you get that?”

As Amy took hold of the pocket square, she caught sight of the man cowering nearby. She gasped in realization.

“Is this his?!”

The man’s eyes snapped open, only just understanding what had occurred. He patted at his chest, realizing he’d been robbed of a mere square of fabric. 

“Sir!” 

Amy shot up, intending to return the stolen accessory, but the man quickly turned and ran off with a squeal as he noticed he was being approached once again.

“Sir! Oh, come on…”

Amy turned her attention back to her friend, shocked at what had just occurred.

“Metal! You can’t just take some random creep’s handkerchief!”

Metal stared at her blankly. He analyzed her flushed cheeks and watery eyes, ignoring her protests. Her gloves were stained front and back with makeup. Was she just crying?

Perturbed, Amy turned away, one again feigning a sneeze. She brought the handkerchief up to her face out of habit. “Well, I guess he’s not gonna be coming back, so…”

Unhappy with the circumstances, Amy wiped away her tears in resignation. The whole scene at least distracted her from her woes- and it was better than blubbering into her damp gloves. She folded the square away into her pocket and looked to Metal.

“Thanks for the tissue, but please promise you won’t go around snatching people’s things,” she managed calmly, 

Metal continued to study her expression. He concluded that she was decidedly composed and he could’ve been mistaken about her emotional state. But now there were these supposed allergies to worry about-

“Metal? Hello?” Amy waved a hand in front of him, vexed by the lack of response. “Are you listening?”

He nodded instinctively. It wasn’t what he was focused on.

“Anyway,” Amy sighed. “Did you have an errand or something?”

Metal shook his head and gestured to her with an open palm, clad in his new gloves.

The gesture confused her for a moment, but quickly understood what he had to say. “Oh… did you come just to get me?” 

He nodded.

Amy tilted her head with some uncertainty. “How did you know I was here…?”

There was no simple way to explain it to her. He didn’t understand it himself, in fact. Just a few minutes prior, he felt an urgent need to come to this precise spot to find her. It was as if he’d received a signal with a command. So, he rushed over, flying faster than he had for as long as he could recall. It felt almost out of his control, his body propelling him to meet her here. An unexplainable urge. A hunch, he’d heard such a feeling called.

Not knowing any other way to answer, he performed his characteristic shrug and reached closer toward her with his still outstretched hand. 

Amy couldn’t help but giggle. His cryptic and limited responses were charming, in a way. 

“Well, thanks for picking me up.” She took his hand. It beated taking the bus.

They took off in what was becoming a typical way for Amy and Metal to travel together. It was even more comfortable now that his pointy claws were under wraps. It felt like floating to Amy, who didn’t even have time to recall her sorrow; they arrived at her front door in no time.

“By the way, Metal, I wanna talk to you about today,” she said as he allowed her down. She reached for her front door, continuing. “I gotta call Tails, too. We should all chat about-”

The door eased open. Amy couldn’t believe her eyes. 

There must not have been a mug, tumbler, or bowl that wasn’t filled with spring blooms. Lilies sprouted out of drinking glasses and a bushel of peonies practically spilled out of her biggest sauce pot. The bushiest of hyacinth stems poked out of the top of an empty wine bottle. Mason jars sat on every inch of her counter filled with daisies, daffodils, and primroses. Every counter, every chair- every conceivable surface of her home was littered with flowers. Unprecedented and breathtaking.

She stood at the door, speechless. Amy forgot all about the conversation she was about to propose, along with her rejection, the stressful mission, and her “allergies.” 

Metal stood back, observing; apprehensive. She’d just had a reaction, and here was every type of flower he could find within a 100-mile radius diffusing pollen into her home. He reached out, intending to hold her back.

But it didn’t stop her. Amy practically sprinted toward the living space, rustling through every vessel, burying her face in as many bunches as she could get her hands on. She gasped and sputtered as she went. 

Radiating joy, she looked back to Metal. “You got all these? For me?” 

Metal nodded at her tensely from the doorway.

Amy erupted with laughter. “It’s amazing!”

Though muddled by it, her positive response put Metal at ease as he followed her inside.

“Thank you!” She twirled around, taking stock of all the bouquets. “Where did you find so many? Look at these peonies, and those hyacinths, and the daffodils, and- and-” 

Her eyes landed on the small bunch of assorted wildflowers she’d received from Sonic that morning. 

“-and…” 

She trailed off, stroking a little blue cornflower from the motley assortment. They sat next to her one other proper vase, stuffed neatly with pink tulips.

Bittersweet tears flooded her eyes. A conflicted sob escaped her as they flowed down into her smile.

Amy’s emotions had overwhelmed her by the time Metal reached her across the room. He took a cautious step back when he realized her cheeks were already soaked.

For however conflicted she felt about the day’s events, Amy was overjoyed at the thoughtful gesture. There was nothing to do but throw her arms around Metal with all the affection she possessed. 

Not anticipating tears, Metal hesitated for a moment. But she clutched and squeezed him with an intensity which he thought could practically crush him. He was as impressed with her strength as he was concerned for her.

Metal wrapped an arm around her slowly. Carefully, he reached a finger to her cheek, catching a tear as it spilled from her eye. 

She sniffled, breathing deeply. “Oh, me? Don’t worry,” Amy turned her damp eyes up to him, still beaming. She laughed. “It’s just allergies!”

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

Me in may: hehe I will have so much time to myself this summer i will be able to write sooo much

Me in june: (takes the hardest class I've ever done in my entire life)

Me in july: (builds an entire kitchen)

Me in aug: (gets married)

Me in sep: (picks up twice as many responsibilities at work because the assistant quit)

but hey I got married and we later went to LA to see Sonic Symphony! So it's been a good summer/autumn so far. Other than you know. working 6 days a week. eugh

[gh0stsp1d3r]

Hobie brown with a gf who is always angry and complicated but is completely quiet and calm around him cuz he keeps her under control and puts her in her place? She’ll tell someone to do something and when they doesn’t do it she’ll blow up on them, but if they do, do it she’ll blow up on them if she doesn’t like the way they do it. And her jealousy is sky high, when she first heard about Gwen staying at Hobie’s she wanted to rip her neck off her shoulders? She also has no filter and tells Gwen straight up that she hates her staying around Hobie. (She’s not mean to Miles and Pavitr bc she views them as little brothers, she kinda has a love-hate relationship with Gwen. She’s okay with her, just not when she’s around Hobie). 😭

she’s so me.. I’d love to. The title is after the Lana song yes…

Jealous, jealous, jealous girl

“Hey, Hobie.” You kissed his cheek when you saw him.

“Hi, love. You good? You seem a lil..”

“I’m fine. Why would I not be fine..?”

“Well, I heard from someone that you cussed them out cause they forgot to do something.”

“Fucking Margo.” You grumbled.

“It’s alright. I get it.” He shrugged

Ever since you heard Gwen say that she stayed with Hobie, you’ve been even more pissed off than usual. You didn’t tell Hobie you knew.

He didn’t even wanna mention how Miguel said “control your girlfriend.” To him. Miguel just told him to bug off.

Miguel loved you, he did, and he wanted to help you control your anger. But you were a lot, and that was fine with him, he liked it as a matter of fact. But everyone else seemed to have a problem with it.

“I gotta go, see ya.” You said.

“Alright, see ya dove.” You both kissed before you walked into the doors.

You worked with spider byte (Margo) as her boss.

“Hey Margo.” You mumbled, you and her worked with the tech and computers.

“Hey.”

You went to one of the computers and started to look at them.

“Anything new show up?”

“Uh.. yeah, actually. Miguel recruited a few new people, I searched them all up, and looking for some more possible ones.”

“Alright.. nothing wrong with anything else?”

“Nope. So how are you and hobie?”

“We’re good. I’m sorry about yesterday.. I jus.. Y’Know.”

“It’s whatever.” She said with a shrug.

“Hey, come look at this guy.” You said, looking at her as she came over.

“The spot? That’s a.. dumb name. 1610, isn’t that the same earth that the miles kid is from?”

“Yup. It says that he’s just robbing atms.. that’s dumb. But his powers are what’s interesting.”

“Interdimensional portals on his body..?”

“Yeah. We should let Miguel know.”

“You can.” She laughed “I’m taking a lunch break.”

“Are you serious? It’s fucking… 10 am?!”

“You don’t control my lunch breaks.” She said, and her avatar disappeared along with her clones.

“Son of a bitch..!” You kicked the edge of a table as miguel watched in confusion.

Miguel chuckled and you jumped.

“What’s wrong with you?” He asked.

“Get off my ass!”

“No one’s on your ass…”

“Im taking a break.”

————————————————————

After telling him about the spot, he said he’ll look into it. You left after a while, and Gwen was out there talking to Hobie.

“You’re fucking with me..” you groaned to yourself.

“So I was wondering, could I crash at yours tonight? Uh, I’ve been crashing with some other people but they keep kicking me out after a while..”

“Yeah, ‘s alright.”

You rolled your eyes, and came out.

“Hi love!” You said, kissing his cheek. He put an arm around you.

“Gwen..” you said, looking at her.

“Hi y/n..” she said awkwardly.

“Hi. How’ve you been?” You said, bitterly. Hobie looked down at you, giving you a look that said “stop.” His grip around you tightened and you were closer now.

“Good.. good, how about you?”

“Same.” You said, faking a smile.

“Hobie. Miguel needs you.” Someone said, coming up to him.

“All right, see you sweetheart, see you Gwen.” He kissed you and left.

“So, I overheard how you were staying at Hobies tonight.” You said bitterly once he was gone.

“Oh, yeah, but that’s just because I can’t really go anywhere else-“

“I don’t like it when you do that. Actually, I hate it.”

“Excuse me?”

“Look, Gwen, I don’t have a problem with you at all. It’s just… I can’t stand it when you stay at his.”

“I don’t like him-“ she laughed.

“No one said you did.”

She sighed “Okay. I get it. I’ll uh… stay with pavitr or something.”

“Thank you.”

“Mhm..” she said, and walked away.

You smiled to yourself as you walked the other way, and waited for Hobie to come out.

“Hey.” You said to him.

“Hi.. you uh.. seen Gwen? She was supposed to stay with me tonight.”

“She said she changed her mind, she’ll just sleep over at pavitrs.”

“Oh. Alright. You comin’ over then?” He said, he had a good idea of why she changed her mind.

“Yeah.”

“You know you don’t need to be jealous of Gwen.. right? I love you.”

“I know but…”

He kissed you and shut you up.

“Just… next time she wants to stay over, you can come too.”

You smiled at him and nodded. “Okay.”

He smiled and grabbed your hand as you both went through the portal.

[theblackestswan]

Silent Desires | #1

Synopsis — There was a time when you pondered how you'd ever let it be known how much you desired Jungkook. But now? He’s back. And he’s not being silent with his desires anymore.

• Jungkook x F!Reader

• Brothers best friend, childhood friends to somewhat strangers to lovers, smut, fluff, and a bit of angst

• explicit language

• word count: 1.5k+

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"God fucking damnit!"

You screamed as you tried to calm yourself down. Was it working? Absolutely not. But it felt good, right?

The phone rang a couple rings before the person you were not looking for, answered. "Hello sister!" Gross. The sound of anyones happiness, pissed you off right now.

"Jimin, is dad home? I really need him." You said exhaustingly. Please let your dad be home. You need him right now.

You sighed, "It's... just my car. It stopped and won't go into gear..."

"Hey, everything's okay. I'll come get you and check it out. I have someone who might know a thing or two about cars... we'll be there soon."

We?

"Jimin who is-?" Before you could ever ask, he hang up. Probably one of his buddies or a coworker. You honestly didn't care. You just needed to get you and your car home.

You just sat in the drivers seat holding back tears. This car is a piece of junk. Honestly. It's old, lots of miles, but you've done your best to take care of it. The thought of being without a car was scary. How are you gonna get to work? You guess you could rent a car. But that's a lot, and who knows how long you'd need one for. You could buy a new one, but that's even more money. Everyone in your family has jobs, and needs their own car. So you couldn't borrow one. Fuck.

Fuckity fuck fuck.

You didn't have much time to overthink more before you could see Jimin's car pulling up behind yours, off the side of the road.

Curse your brother for having tinted windows, and curse the sun for starting to set, because you had no clue who was in the passenger seat.

You hopped out of your car and popped the hood. You could at least do that much.

"Hey sis! You okay?" No. No I'm not.

"Yeah I'm fine, cold and anxious, but I'm fine." Not a total lie.

You walked Jimin to the hood of your car and gave him a play by play of what happened. He checked all your fluids, and looked at the engine as much as he could. He knew a little about cars, but not as much as your dad did.

You totally forgot about the person in the passenger seat. "Chim, who did..."

Oh fuck.

"Hi Y/N. Car troubles I see?"

You knew that voice anywhere. The boy you befriended when you were 9. The  boy who eventually became better friends with your brother, than you. The boy who moved away when he was 16, but still kept in touch with Jimin, at least.

The boy who turned into a hot fucking man, who is now standing in front of you.

"Jungkookie?"

You were sure your jaw was on the ground. The last time you seen him, in the flesh, was 5 years ago at Jimin's 21st birthday dinner. Sure, you'd see his pictures on social media, and what not, but not in person. Holy shit, is he even real?

Of course he is. Jimin talks all the time about him. Even though he moved, him and Jimin still hang out all the time. Usually they meet somewhere in the middle. He only moved two hours away.

"Ah, you still remember my nickname?" There was that stupid bunny smile. Stupid. Stupidly cute.

"Of course I do. How could I forget?" You flashed him a smile right back. How could you ever forget Jungkook? You only crushed on him for half your life. He was cute. He had always been cute. But once he became more of Jimin's friend, you knew your chances were out the window.

Jimin had one hard rule for his friends. "Leave my little sister alone." He loved being a big brother. He loved being your big brother, even more. He would do anything for you. And that includes keeping you safe. Especially from his friends.

As you got older, you understood that rule, more. Especially when Taehyung was around. Another cute friend of Jimin's, but an absolute flirt, and dare you say, playboy. All of his friends would flirt with you from time to time. Although, you didn't know if it was them actually flirting, or just trying to rile up your brother.

Before you could daydream even more about he man in front of you, Jimin caught you out of your thoughts.

"So, Y/N. Tell Jungkook what happened. He knows cars more than I do."

Suddenly you forgot your words. Jungkook was intimidating. He wasn't the boy you once knew. "I- uh... it was going down the road just fine, t-then, it started j-jerking and I pulled over and it wouldn't switch gears. And now it won't d-do anything."

That felt like it took you 3 weeks to say. You just explained all of this to Jimin in 15 seconds. Pull yourself together.

He just nodded at you, and then started looking over your car more.

God he was hot. You were kinda glad your dad didn't answer.

"It looks like it's your transmission. I'm guessing it probably went out, and you'll need a new one. I can look at it more tomorrow when I can get it off the ground and have more light." He looked at your softly. Surely that's not news anyone wants.

"I'd appreciate that. Thank you."

Jimin rubbed your back to calm you down, "Let's call a tow truck and get it home. Kook can look at it in the morning. He's staying over this weekend."

You sat inside your car while you called your insurance company to see if they could get a tow truck for you. Thankfully they could, and it was on it's way.

Jimin had walked back to his car to call your parents and let them know what was going on. You were just left with the sexy man in front of you.

Do you speak? What is there to say?

"Thank you again for coming with Chim. I really appreciate it. I was hoping my dad was home but... I guess you're okay too." Now what the fuck do you call that?

He chuckled as he looked at the ground, "I'm glad I could help. I'm sorry about all this. Car problems suck."

"It's all good. Had my fair share with this car..." You really didn't want to embarrass yourself in front of him. Anyone with a brain would have gotten rid of this car a long time ago. "So uh... what are you doing all the way down here?"

He stared at you blankly. God his eyes alone could ruin you. It was like he was in a trance. He didn't even blink. "Jungkook?" He stared a few seconds longer before he snapped out of whatever it was he was in.

"Sorry, uh... why I'm here... oh! I moved down here actually. Closer to work and I miss you guys." If there was any day light right now, you would see his ears are red. Something that happened when he's embarrassed. Kind of his way of blushing.

"Miss you 'guys'? You mean Jimin?" Surely just Jimin. He had long forgotten about you.

"No, you too."

Huh? 'You too'?

You gulped. There was two ways you could go about this. One, you could tell him off about how he obviously didn't miss you when he left and never really spoke to you. Ever. Or you could play into it and see what exactly he means by that. Before you could even tell yourself which one to go with, your mouth already spoke for you.

"Didn't seem like you missed me too much." You couldn't do this. You didn't even want to continue this conversation. You walked over to Jimin in his car and just listened to the phone call he was having with your parents.

Soon enough, the tow truck was there, and before you, yourself could greet the driver, Jungkook already had it handled. He gave the driver the keys and told him your address. He grabbed your stuff out of your passenger seat and waved the driver off.

"Here, thought you might want these." Again with a soft smile that could destroy you, and he handed you your bag, and jacket.

What the fuck was he doing? Trying to make it up to you?

"I could have done all that by myself. I'm not the little girl you once knew." You gave him the tiniest smirk. What the fuck were you doing? Surely he couldn't see that, this late at night. You walked off and left him while you got in the back of your brothers car.

Thank god it was dark, and you were out of distance, otherwise what Jungkook said would end it all.

"Guess I should find out exactly what that means, Miss Y/N."

He had the same smirk you had, only a lot bigger.

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next chapter

A note from our sponsor: OMGGEEEEE you guys it’s finally happening!! I’ve always been a writer and wanted to post my own fic, but there’s just so many incredible ones on here already and I didn’t think I could bring anything good to the table. Buttttt I got in the mood to write, and came across this fic that I started 2 years ago. I got the first 10 chapters wrote out, and so I’ve gone through and edited and will be posting my first fic!! Since I started this on Wattpad, that’s where I’ll be posting chapters first. A few days after I post on there, I’ll post them on here. I just enjoy writing on Wattpad a bit more, but Tumblr is my favorite place to read fics. If you’re interested in my Wattpad, it’s hokookin (also linked). I hope you enjoy reading 🖤

[thesapphictimelady]

Ad Astra Per Aspera

Word Count: 2.6K

TW: Implied previous domestic abuse, references to alcohol

A/N: Been working on this for like 2 months lol. Not proofread at all, but I had fun with it. Comments are appreciated :) Hope you enjoy!

“Hi, I’m looking for principal Coleman?”

The red head leaning against the desk turned, “Yeah, she’s not here today.”

“That can’t be right. I’m supposed to be meeting with her today. It is Thursday, right? I know my head isn’t always screwed on right but I was sure it’s Thursday.”

“Yeah, it is. Wait, are you the one with the dumb name?”

“E-excuse me?”

The red head tossed her hair, “Ava told me there was someone coming in with a stupid name and I should welcome her and “show her the ropes” and that she’d be helping in my classroom.”

“My name’s Cassiopeia,” she said, shuffling her things around to shake the older woman’s hand.

The older woman scoffed, ignoring her hand, “The hell kind of name is that? Nah, I’m calling you Cassie. And that’s how you should introduce yourself. The kids’ll end up calling you Pee or something. Come on, I’ll take you to the break room.”

“I don’t think I caught your name,” Cassie said, trying to keep up with her long strides.

“Yeah, that’s cause I didn’t give it to ya,” she swung open the door to the break room, “I found fresh meat looking for Ava,”

“Melissa Ann Schemmenti, you know we don’t speak about our colleagues like that!”

Melissa shrugged and took a seat next to the other teacher, “Sorry Barb, just callin’ it like I see it,”

Barb swatted Melissa’s arm and turned to face Cassiopeia, “It’s nice to meet you dear, I’m Barbara Howard, I teach Kindergarten”

“My name’s Cassiopeia. It’s nice to meet you.”

Melissa groaned and pointed at the young woman, “Didn’t I say to introduce yourself as Cassie? I wasn’t kiddin’.”

“Jacob Hill!” another teacher blurted from by the fridge, “I’m Jacob Hill. I teach history. I like your name. Cassiopeia, She was the queen of Ethiopia according to Greek Mythology. Her daughter Andromeda was saved from a sea monster by the hero Perseus. Did you know-”

“Jacob that’s enough,” Barbara said, gesturing towards a chair for Cassiopeia, “I’m sure she knows the history of her own name.”

Cassie sat and smiled gratefully at Barbara before she reached into her bag to retrieve her notebook and a pair of earbuds, deciding it was best to just sit quietly until the kids arrived.

“Pineapple absolutely goes on pizza,” Jacob said, picking up the conversation they had been having before her arrival.

“Not this again,” Melissa groaned, “It does not go on pizza!”

“It does! It’s been put on pizza since 1962! Contrary to the term that’s frequently used, it actually isn’t from Hawaii though. It was created in Ontario, Canada. The man who made it was actually Greek and-“

“Hey, new kid,” Melissa interrupted, “What kind of pizza do you like”

“I actually haven’t had pizza in a long time,” Cassie said, pulling her earbuds out.

“Oh don’t tell me you don’t like pizza!”

“No, I do! My…my ex used to make homemade pizza for date night. She was not a good person. Which is why I’m here. Miles away from anyone I know.” Cassie shifted and tugged at her sleeves, making sure the yellowing bruises from the night she had left were still covered.

The room stayed quiet for a few minutes before Barbara finally said, “Well now you know us!”

“Yeah,” Melissa said, her emerald eyes trained on Cassie, “You know us. And based on what Ava told me, you’re in my room for now,” she glanced down at her watch, “So grab a cup of coffee and let’s head over there now so ya know where stuff is. We’ll see youse at lunch.”

Melissa patted Barbs hand as she stood and grabbed her coffee mug, holding the door open for Cassie.

“Good luck, Cassiopeia!” Jacob called

Cassie waved at the other teachers, hastily gathering her things and following the redhead out the door.

“So you don’t got anybody out here?” Melissa asked as she flipped the classroom light on.

“No ma’am. I don’t know anyone here.”

“Why Philly? I mean, other than the obvious.”

Cassiopeia laughed softly, setting her things down on a desk, “I saw a job posting for Abbott and just…packed up my life and came here. I needed a change.”

Melissa nodded slowly, setting her mug down and looking the new teacher up and down, “Well listen kid, we got recess duty this week. I don’t know where you’re from but it gets hot. You might wanna reevaluate that grandma sweater.”

Cassie flushed and tugged the sleeves down over her hands, “Thanks but I’ll be fine.”

Melissa hummed thoughtfully before shrugging, “Suit yourself. You can put your stuff back here. How do you feel about science?”

The morning went smoothly and before she knew it, she and Melissa were standing outside watching the kids recess. The older woman had abandoned her leather jacket in her classroom and tied her hair up in a ponytail.

“Aren’t you hot?” Melissa asked, fanning herself with one hand.

“I’m fine,” Cassiopeia lied, pulling her hair off her neck in an effort to cool down.

“At least let me cuff your sleeves!” Melissa said, reaching for Cassie.

“No! No, I’m fine.”

“Kid, it’s a million degrees and you’re wearing a Mr. Rogers sweater!”

“I’m fine,” Cassie insisted.

Melissa sighed, before turning back to the kids “5 more minutes my little eagles! Ms. Schemmenti is too hot so we’re going to go inside.”

“Yes Ms. Schemmenti!” the kids called back to her.

“They really like you,” Cassie said.

“Yeah, well, the older ones had me when they were in second grade so they know the drill. We’ll take them to the gym and then head to the break room for lunch. By the way, you can eat the school lunch, but I do NOT recommend doing that.”

Cassiopeia laughed, “Thanks for the heads up, but I don’t usually eat lunch”

“Whadya mean you don’t eat lunch. You gotta eat”

“I eat breakfast and dinner! I’m just never hungry at lunch”

Melissa shook her head, “You can have something from my lunch”

Cassie opened her mouth to argue but the redhead was quick to cut her off, “It’s not up for debate kid. Alright my little eagles it’s time to line up!”

All the kids came running over to the door, lining up single file to follow Melissa inside and to the gym. Cassie stayed at the back of the line, closing the door behind them. Once the kids were inside the gym with the other recess duty teachers, Melissa dragged Cassie to the break room.

“Cassiopeia! You’re still here!” Jacob cheered.

“Where else would I be?” Cassie laughed.

“Melissa has a habit of running people off,” Mrs. Howard said, smiling fondly at the redhead who had sat down next to her.

“I do not!” Melissa said, pulling food out of her lunchbox, “Only the incompetent ones. New kid is smart.”

Cassie flushed and went to go perch on one of the windowsills but Melissa stopped her.

“Where do you think you’re goin? I told you it’s not up for debate.”

“Ms. Schemmenti, really, I’m fine!”

“Sit.” Melissa said sternly, grabbing a paper plate from the cabinet and putting some ziti on it.

“I wouldn’t try to argue dear,” Mrs. Howard warned when Cassie opened her mouth, “It’s better to just do what she tells you.”

Cassiopeia sighed and sat in the seat the older woman had indicated, taking the plate of ziti, “Thank you, Ms. Schemmenti.”

“Don’ worry about it kid.”

“So, Cassiopeia,” Barbara said, “How was your morning? Was Melissa nice to you?”

“Ms. Schemmenti was very kind to me. And the kids are wonderful! I don’t know how she manages to have such a well behaved class when she’s juggling two different grades!”

“The kids know better than to mess with me,” the redhead said, glancing up from her phone.

Cassie smiled and took a bite of the ziti, “Holy shit this is amazing!”

“It’s my nana’s recipe,” Melissa said, “She used to…” She trailed off, brow furrowed, “Did youse hear that?”

The room went silent as all the teachers listened to a timid knock at the door. Melissa jumped up to open the door. One of the older girls was standing on the other side, sniffling.

“What’s wrong hon?” Melissa asked her, bending down slightly so she could whisper in the redheads ear, “Gotcha. Let’s go to my classroom, okay? Hey, new kid, I might need you and your huge bag. Follow us.”

Cassiopeia grabbed her purse and was quick to catch up with them.

“What’s going on?” she asked once inside the classroom.

The younger girl looked nervously at Melissa.

“It’s okay hon, Miss Cassie is gonna be more help than me. She started her period. Nurse isn’t here and I don’t need the products anymore. Got anything in that bag of yours?”

“Oh! Oh of course, give me a second,” Cassie dug through her purse, producing pads and a small heating pack, “Do you need anything else? Tylenol?”

“I need new pants,” the student whispered.

“I’m afraid that’s the one thing I don’t carry with me,” Cassie said apologetically, “Is there somewhere we can get those?”

Melissa sighed, “Yeah, Ava’s office. But she has that place booby trapped since the last time I- actually I think that’s not important right now.” Melissa said, throwing a look towards the cameraman right outside the door who quickly ducked out of sight.

“That’s okay,” Cassie said, “What’s your name sweetheart?”

“Kya,”

“Okay, here’s what we’re gonna do Kya. We’re gonna tie my sweater around your waist to hide the stain and then Ms. Schemmenti is gonna give your mom a call to bring you some new pants, okay?”

“Okay,” Kya whispered.

“We can use Barb’s bathroom,” Melissa said, “She won’t mind.”

Cassie nodded and unbuttoned her sweater, folding it and gently tying it around Kya’s waist, “There. Now go with Ms. Schemmenti and she’ll get you taken care of.”

Kya took the pads out of her hand and followed Melissa out of the room. Cassie busied herself putting things back into her bag, completely missing the look the other teacher had given her. A breeze came through the open window and she shivered, rubbing at her arms before she froze.

“Fuck,” she whispered, “Please tell me I have a back up sweater somewhere in my bag!”

Cassie turned her bag over on the desk, searching the contents for something, anything she could use to keep the bruises on her arms covered.

“So, new kid,”

Cassie jumped, whirling around to see Melissa leaning against the doorframe with her arms crossed.

“Hi, Ms. Schemmenti! I-I didn’t hear you coming!” Cassie quickly tucked her arms behind her.

“Uh huh.” Melissa said, walking into the classroom, “Thanks for your help with Kya. You sure were protective of that sweater all morning but you didn’t hesitate to give it to her.”

“I remember middle school. She didn’t need anyone teasing her for the stain”

Melissa nodded thoughtfully, “Whatcha got behind your back?”

“Nothing!”

“So if I walked behind you, there wouldn’t be anything to see?”

“No, there’s nothing back there!”

“And there’s nothing, say, on your wrists?”

“No ma’am.”

“Well then I’m sure you have no issue going back to the break room with me.”

“Actually I think I’ll stay here and…start grading the science tests!”

The redhead frowned and shook her head, “What’re you hiding kid. Just show me. You’ve been hiding something all day.”

Cassiopeia swallowed the lump in her throat and brought her arms back to the front, looking anywhere but Melissa’s face.

“Kid,” the older teacher whispered.

“I don’t want your pity. That’s why I kept them covered. I’m completely fine.”

“Hon…”

Cassie looked up in surprise at the gentleness of the teachers words. Melissa’s emerald eyes were soft and she gently took Cassie’s arm in her hand.

“Hon, this isn’t nothing,”

“I don’t want anyone’s pity, Ms. Schemmenti. I’m going to go home. I don’t have a back up sweater and it’s bad enough that you’ve seen them.”

“What-?”

“What happened?” Cassie cut her off, not wanting to hear her ask, “My ex. I told you this morning she wasn’t a good person. She wasn’t too pleased with the news that I wanted to break up. Now please, let go,”

Melissa let go of Cassie’s arms, backing up so the teacher had space to grab her things, too stunned to stop her as she quickly left the classroom.

When Cassiopeia got home, she threw everything onto the couch before going to the small kitchen to retrieve a bottle of wine and a plastic cup. This was supposed to be a new beginning and already she had someone pitying her.

“I knew I should’ve pushed off my start date,” she muttered to the small apartment as she filled her cup and collapsed on the couch. It didn’t take long after draining the bottle that she fell into a fitful sleep, using her bag as a pillow

It was her phone ringing that woke her. She glanced at the screen and was immediately filled with dread when she saw the “Unknown number” on the caller ID. Hesitantly she accepted the call, sitting in silence while she waited for the caller to speak.

“Hello? New kid? You there?”

“Ms. Schemmenti? How did you get my phone number?”

“I know a guy. Listen, what do you like on your pizza?”

“What? Ms. Schemmenti it’s…it’s 3 in the morning! Why are you calling?”

The line was quiet for a moment before the redhead sighed, “Listen, I’m real sorry for pushin’ you today. I shouldn’t have made you tell me what the bruises were from. Let me make you a pizza to make up for it.”

Cassiopeia laughed softly, “This is a dream. A weird, alcohol induced dream.”

“No it’s not. Kid you can either tell me or I’ll show up with something random.”

“Show up? Are you driving right now?”

“Yeah, I had a late night. Are you decent? I’m almost at your place.”

“How do you know where I live??”

“Again, I know a guy. Are ya decent?”

“Yeah, I-I’m decent. Should I unlock the door or do you know a guy for that too?”

“Ha ha very funny kid.”

The call dropped, leaving Cassie alone in the dark again. She jumped up and started throwing things into the small closet, trying to make the tiny space look halfway decent, before giving up and instead throwing on an oversized sweater and unlocking the door.

Melissa had her arms completely full of grocery bags when she got to the door.

“Ms. Schemmenti what-”

Melissa pushed past her into the apartment, “I told ya, I had a long night. Where can I put this?”

Cassiopeia led her to the tiny kitchen, still not quite sure if she was awake or not. Melissa dropped her bags on the narrow counter and started pulling things out.

“Okay, what is going on? You don’t need to do all this, you apologized on the phone.”

“Trust me kid, that wasn’t enough. And your secret is safe with me. I told the others you were sick and I sent you home.”

“School starts in 4 hours.”

“Actually, the kids are off tomorrow so no one will care that you’re hungover and I haven’t slept. Trust me, Ava will be hungover as hell.”

Cassie sat down on one of the wobbly stools, “So you’re making me a pizza…as an apology?”

Melissa finally glanced over her shoulder at the younger woman, “Yeah, you got a problem with that?”

“No…I don’t think so.” Cassie put her head in her hands, “I think I’m too hungover for this,”

Melissa laughed and tossed her a bottle of aspirin, “Picked this up at the store. You probably need it more than I do”

Cassie took it gratefully, “Thank you, Ms. Schemmenti.”

“You’re welcome kid. Go lay down. I’ll take care of this and I’ll wake you when it’s time to head to school.”

[baby-yongbok]

4:26 am

Best friend!Bang Chan × Fem!Reader

Genre: Smut

Summary: You love your boyfriend Minho, but lately your best friend has been on your mind.

Warnings: Cheating, Chan is a tiny bit manipulative, Car Sex? (That should be all, sorry if I missed anything!)

A/N: This might might, be the last of Chan's birthday posts. I have one more that I prepared awhile ago but I might save it. Who knows lol. I hope that you enjoy! I'm trying to start writing again and it's been hard so I'm sorry if this is a bit rough 😅

✨️Masterlist✨️

 “Tell me again why we're parked in an abandoned parking lot at 4:26 am.” Chan asks quizzically. I sighed, running my hands over my face. 

“I needed someone to vent to.” My gaze stays fixed on my lap, I don’t know if I can look at him, I don’t know what I’ll do when his eyes meet mine. He’s my best friend and I know I can tell him anything, hell, he picked up the phone in the middle of the night and came running to me. So I know that I can trust him but right now the thought of looking him in the eye with these thoughts running through my head is dizzying.

“Well I'm here, start when you want.” He leans forward, crossing his arms and resting them on top of the steering wheel. I run my hands through my hair as I try to gather my thoughts.

“Okay so, uh, Minho came home early tonight and he surprised me with this really cute home date and ya know… we had sex and it was good, really it was, but I just don’t feel… I haven’t been feeling…” My heart is beating a mile a minute, Chan and I are extremely close and we talk about our sex lives all the time but this time it’s different. 

“Unsatisfied?” Chan asks with an eyebrow raised. I nod my head, thankful that he finished the sentence for me. Talking about Minho behind his back feels so wrong but I suppose it’s not as wrong as what I plan to confess next.

“Yeah, unsatisfied and I've been… thinking of someone else.” I swallow hard as I play with the zipper of my hoodie, desperate to pay attention to anything but the look on Chan’s face. I know him, I know that he’s looking at me with semi wide interested eyes and he’s waiting for me to look back at him but I just can’t. 

“Who do you think about?” If I were in a hospital right now the nurses would go crazy because I am almost certain that my heart stopped, exploded even. I knew that he’d ask me that question but hearing it actually come out of his mouth sets off a whole new type of panic. Should I tell him the truth? I’m in a relationship, a beautiful and loving one at that, I shouldn’t go around confessing these things. But on the other hand, the thought of my fantasy coming true is too inviting to ignore. It’s now or never and I choose now.

“Well, it depends on the day. It could be Hyunjin, Seungmin, but… I mostly think of you. I guess it’s because of our connection or some shit like that, I don't know” My nerves got to me half way through my confession, shit, he must think I’m fucking with him. The silence around us lasted far too long for my liking, causing me to look over at the man in the driver's seat. His eyebrows were slightly raised and there was a red tint to the tips of his ears but other than that he seemed completely cool and collected. 

“Okay, uh, you think about me in what way? Like, do you daydream about me and kind of dissociate from Minho or do you pretend that he's me?” His brows knit together briefly before relaxing again. He shifts in his seat, leaning back completely and bringing his crossed arms to rest over his chest. He’s clearly trying not to show the effect that my confession has on him.

“I imagine that he's you, that his hands are yours and that you’re the one fucking me, it's better when I pretend.” I look back down at my lap as a deep blush creeps onto my cheeks. 

“Do you come faster? More intensely?” My head jolts up quickly and my eye’s find his immediately, the look of disbelief written all over my features makes Chan grin. He chuckles a bit and that's when I realize that he's messing with me. I sigh dramatically, relaxing into my seat before flashing my middle finger in his direction.

“Fuck you, don’t taunt me.” He smiles wider, looking down at his lap.

“I just want to know for my own personal records.” He licks his lips before looking back up at me  “It's fun hearing what I do to you.” 

At this point I’m sure that my brown skin is as red as a rose. Why did he have to look at me like that? Is he trying to ruin me? 

“I called you because I need to vent.” I remind him as I turn to look out of the passenger window, anything to avoid his gaze for a second. 

“Sorry sorry, continue.” I clear my throat and unzip my hoodie just a bit, is it getting hot in here? Why does his car suddenly feel so small?

“He falls asleep after sex all the time, I mean how could I blame him? Three rounds every night for four or five days a week is a lot on top of working and all of the other stuff that he does in a day. But no matter how many times we do it I’m still not satisfied afterwards, I watch porn and use my vibrator on the bathroom floor, every time.”

“Did you do that tonight?” His eyebrows knit together in curiosity, I open my mouth to try to answer him but when I look back in his direction I get distracted by the sight of his strong arms. He leaned back in his seat a bit more than he was a minute ago, his fingers intertwined and tucked behind his head giving me the perfect view of his biceps and everything that matches it. 

“No, I called you instead. I just needed to talk to someone. I feel like I'm going crazy, I keep wanting more and more sex. This can’t be normal.” Chan chuckles lightly and I can’t help but to roll my eyes. Is he even taking this seriously?

“Well either you're a sex addict or you aren't satisfied because you want someone else. In this case that person would be me.” He moves his hands from behind his head and rests them in his lap lazily.

“So, what? I fuck you and it goes away? If anything I'll keep wanting it.” I scoff, shaking my head in an attempt to erase the thoughts.

“You'll never know unless you try.” My eyes meet his quickly, I open my mouth to reply but no words make sense in my head. Is he serious? He’s messing with me… right? 

“I couldn't cheat on… I can't.” 

“Haven't you already though? Thinking of another man inside of you while he is? Imagining that you're with me.. your best friend. If he were thinking of someone else while he fucked you would you call that cheating?”  I turn away from him as if I'm physically trying to run away from his words. This is all too much to handle. The man that I can’t stop thinking about is basically offering himself to me. But I can’t do that to Minho, he’s been nothing but good to me for all of these years, he’s loving and attractive and he shares all of my values… but so does Chan and right now my best friend has one up on my boyfriend when it comes to intimacy. Is this really worth it? Is sex really worth potentially ruining my relationship to start a new one with Chan?

“I'm single, Y/n, if I screw you no one will care. But you, you're in a relationship. If we fuck you'll either feel guilty and confess everything to him or you'll feel so amazing that you'll call me at 4 am every night, The choice is yours.” Silence surrounds us and it almost feels heavy on my skin. What should I do next? I could tell him to take me home or I could get in the backseat and let him fuck me until I’m satisfied. I glance over at Chan to find that he’s already looking at me, his relaxed gaze is raking over my frame slowly but that’s not what did it. It was the way he licked his lips as his eyes met mine, like he could already taste me. Like he already had me. 

“Fuck it.” I blurt out, making up my mind all at once. It’s like every system in my brain shut off at once. I'm not really even thinking anymore, every move is now driven by desire. “Let me see your dick.”

 I maintain eye contact so that he knows that I’m serious. A smirk plays upon his lips and his eyebrows raise instantly.

“That escalated quickly.” He chuckles and I try my best to hide my giddy grin, Am I really doing this? Maybe I can take it back?

“Show me.” Chan takes a deep breath, hooking his thumbs into the waistline of his sweats before giving me a glance. I can tell what he’s trying to say with his eyes, he’s asking me if I’m sure about this and to be honest that answer is no, I’m anything but sure. All I know is that part of me is desperate to see if he really has this effect on me or if it’s all in my head. I nod to him and without another word he lowers the hem of his gray sweatpants and his cock springs up, resting against his clothed stomach.

Fuck what I said before, I don’t want to take it back. The mere sight of his dick, makes my mouth water. It takes every ounce of control that I have in my body not to lean forward and take him in my mouth. I want to taste him, to feel him, to use him.

“No underwear?” I tease with a smile and he shrugs.

“You said it was an emergency, I rushed over to you. Threw on the first thing I could find.”

“Mm maybe that's a sign.” He furrows his brows slightly as he watches me with curious eyes. I unzipped my hoodie completely, revealing the lingerie that I had put on for Minho tonight and never changed out of. 

“Fuck.” Chan says in a breathy sigh, bringing his hand up to his cock.

“Is it still cheating if I don't touch you?” I slip off my silk sleep shorts and turn my body towards Chan so that my back is against the passenger door. I open my legs to give him a full view of my cunt, reaching down to spread my arousal over my folds. 

“You’re so fucking pretty, babygirl” His tone is a bit deeper than before, the soft and playful tone replaced with a deep and husky one. He holds his hand out towards me and I nearly moan at the words that follow.

“Get it wet for me?” A low hum vibrates from my throat as I lean forward, pursing my lips and spitting into his palm. He coos at me, a quiet ‘good girl’ leaving his lips as he watches me. His eyes don’t leave mine as he takes his hand back and spreads my spit over his leaking tip mixing my saliva with his pre-cum. Slowly, his eyes trail down my body until they fix on my dripping pussy. He slowly starts to stroke himself, exhaling heavily when he rubs over his tip.

“Play with yourself for me, yeah?” At this point the only thing going through my head is Chan. He’s all I can remember, all that I want, all that I need. I feel drunk off of the sight of him sitting across from me, cheeks flushed and his long fingers wrapped around his hard cock. How could I possibly want to do anything but please this man?

I take a deep breath, exhaling slowly through parted lips, my eyes stay trained on him as I slowly trail my hand from my neck to my stomach. I watch his expression as he grows a bit impatient from my teasing, his dark gaze warning me to give him what he asked for. 

“Does it look like I want you to tease me, baby?” The tone of his voice sends chills down my spine, his words are breathy and challenging and it makes me hungry for more. What would he do to me if I kept teasing? How would he punish me? 

“Why would I give you what you want right away?” I run my fingers along my inner thighs, smiling at him as his gaze drops from my eyes to my core, watching my hand carefully. “That would be boring.”

“Touch yourself or I'll do it for you.” A shiver runs down my spine as I imagine him getting impatient with me and taking control, using his long fingers to fuck me. Why do I feel drunk off of that thought? It hasn’t even happened and yet I feel like I’m on cloud 9. 

“Fuck.” I hiss as I run my fingers between my folds brushing against my clit and circling it. Chan strokes himself a bit faster as he watches me, his bottom lip pulled between his teeth. 

“Put a finger inside.” He looks up from my cunt and my eyes follow his meeting for a second. My pussy clenches around nothing, desperate for something, anything, him. “Pretend that it’s me” 

He nearly sounds like he’s pleading me to do it, like he’s desperate to see how I fuck myself. Desperate to see what the thought of him does to me. I nod, slowly obeying his command and slipping my middle finger deep into my cunt.

“Oh fuck.” My back arches up off of the passenger door once I start fucking myself, increasing the pace gradually as I start to become desperate for more. I pressed the palm of my hand against my clit, trying to add as much stimulation as possible. He watches in awe as my hips buck into my hand a bit. 

“Add another.” I quickly obey his command, adding my ring finger inside, eliciting a groan of pleasure to fall from my parted lips. I try my best to keep my eyes open, I want to watch him, I need to watch him. His strokes are much faster now, small grunts and sighs leaving his parted lips, his head thrown back in ecstasy. I take in the way that his jaw clenched as he builds himself closer to the edge, his right leg slightly bouncing, it's a masterpiece that I wish I could become a part of. 

“Chan.” His name passes my lips in a breathy moan and he looks over at me as he strokes the head of his dick, his teeth sinking into his bottom lip at the sensation. “I need you so badly.” 

“Your choice.” He groans out as he throws his head back again squeezing his eyes shut. “ Better make up your mind, I’m so close, babygirl.” 

I sigh heavily as I try my best to fight the urge to climb over and ride him until I pass out. I focus on my own pleasure again, Imagining that it’s Chan rubbing tight circles on my clit while his long fingers reach spots that I didn’t even know existed. I imagine that it’s him bringing me closer and closer to the edge, I wish it was him. The wet sounds of Chan stroking his cock mix with my moans as we both draw closer to the edge. I watch his hand as he pleasures himself, I wonder if he’s imagining that, that’s me. I wonder if he feels that same way. Does he touch himself to the thought of me at night? Thinking of all of the times that we were play fighting and his fingers grazed my bare skin, all of the tight hugs that we shared, my chest pressed up against him. Does he think about me?

“Shit, oh my god” I squeeze my eyes shut and arch my back at the thought of him wanting me just as much as I want him, maybe even more.

“Fucking cum for me, babygirl.”  Chan groans “I'm so fucking close for you.”

Those words alone throw me over the edge, one of my fantasies is coming true right in front of my eyes.

“Oh my- I'm gonna..” Before I could get another word out my orgasm rushed over me, breathtaking and mind fogging.  I clamped my legs shut and arched my back off of the car door. My moans filled the space around us but I couldn’t hear them, the pleasure was deafening. 

“Fuck, Y/n.” My name fell off of his tongue in a sweet moan and my pussy clenched at the sound of it, sending another wave of euphoria through me. “Oh shit, I'm cumming.” 

He squeezes his eyes shut, his strokes becoming shorter but still just as fast. A rush of adrenaline hit me and suddenly my vision changed. I felt like a rabid animal who was desperate for food. Suddenly, I forgot about everything that was looming over my head. All of my thoughts about Minho and saving our relationship were gone. All that I could think of was pleasure and I was absolutely driven by it, so much so that after the first stream of cum came leaking from Chan’s tip I leaned forward, getting on my knees in the passenger seat and running my tongue up his length. He moved his hand quickly, clearly surprised by my sudden confidence. I licked up to the head of his cock and then took the rest of his length down my throat. His seed spilled into my mouth in warm and delicious spurts, painting my throat with his sticky arousal. Every bit of him tasted like heaven and in this moment I swear that I would do anything that anybody asks as long as I get to stay here. As long as I get to feel him. 

“Y/n” His hand lightly lays on the back of my head, stroking my hair slightly. “Fuck, baby, you feel so good.” I bob my head a couple of times, milking his arousal from him until I’m sure that I’ve got every last drop. Once he’s come down from his high I sit up, releasing his cock from my mouth with a faint ‘pop’ and licking my lips. I sit back into my seat, settling in a bit while we watch each other. Chan’s chest is rising and falling heavily and there’s a ghost of a smile on his lips, once he seem to have composed himself a little the tiniest chuckle falls from his lips as he begins to tuck himself back into his sweatpants

“Do you think that fulfilled your lust for me?” 

“Not even close.”

[reputationmunson]

Crossing Lines | S.H x fem!reader

part one | part two | part 3 | part 4

series summary: Steve isn’t your biggest fan, so why does he ask you to be his date to a wedding? | enemies to lovers, fake dating

chapter summary: time to meet the family!

content: you and steve go shopping, meeting his family, mentions of drinking, food mention, swearing, she/her pronouns, use of y/n, a little surprise at the end ;)

word count: 4.7k

_

The piercing ring of the phone wakes Steve from his deep sleep and putting a pillow over his head doesn’t drown out the sound even a little bit. He begrudgingly throws his blanket and grumbles obscenities until he reaches the phone.

“Hello?” he answers with an abrasive tone. “Good morning to you too, sunshine” your voice sounds way too happy for someone who’s awake this early. “y/n? Why the hell are you calling me this early?”

“Do you always talk to your girlfriends like this? No wonder you’re still single.’’ you tease and he lets out an overdramatic, loud sigh. “Get to the point it’s too early for this”

“It’s almost ten in the morning that isn’t exactly the break of dawn, but anyways, I need to know if you work today”

“Yeah, I do” he lies. “Liar! I already asked Robin and she told me that you’re off today” he can practically hear your ‘know-it-all-’ smirk over the phone. “I’m five seconds away from hanging up”

“Okay, okay, don’t get your panties in a twist. We need to go shopping today” you tell him and he scoffs at your words “We? Why do I need to go?”

“You said all expenses paid and I need new clothes for our couples getaway, therefore, you’re going shopping with me”

“It’s not a couple’s gateway” is all he says. “That’s all semantics, Stevie”

“Do you even know what semantics means?” he asks “do you?” you reply, turning the tables. His lips purse while he tries to thinks of an answer. He’s got nothing. “Whatever. I’ll pick you up in an hour” he hands up before giving you a chance to gloat.

_

Steve shows up to your house an hour and a half later and he expects nothing less than you reprimanding him for it. You walk outside wearing a dress that might be a bad idea for a breezy day like today, but it’s still a pretty dress. He tells himself that only the dress looks pretty, not the person wearing it. Your sparkly lip gloss that anyone from a mile away can see, looks pretty too, but not because it’s on your lips. He can just appreciate a nice gloss, that’s it.

“Thirty minutes late, mister. That isn’t very ‘boyfriend’ of you” you say as soon as you get into the car. “How about a ‘thank you’ for picking you up? That isn’t very ‘girlfriend’ of you” he rebuttals.

“Hush, I’m the perfect girlfriend. Can I play some music?” you ask and he turns the radio on. “Oh, I love this song!” you cheer when you change the station and ‘We Belong’ by Pat Benatar comes on. “Of course you do” he says and you roll your eyes at him while turning up the radio. In all honesty, he likes this song, but he’ll never admit that out loud.

You sing every word, not too loudly, but loud enough that Steve can hear. Your singing isn’t horrible, but he knows every time he hears this song he’s going to associate it with you. “Why are you always so grouchy? You constantly have a look on your face like someone put salt in your sugar shaker”

“Thanks for putting off your concert long enough to ask me that” he turns the radio down until there's almost no music and you turn it back up a smidge. “See! You’re a total butthead” you argue. “Butthead? Are we five?”

“That’s such a butthead response”

“Then how about we don’t talk for the rest of the car ride? Kay?” he impolitely suggests and you cross your arms. “Fine”

“Fine”

So you sit in silence for the rest of the time you’re in the car, aside from your soft singing. It drives Steve insane.

_

The mall was quite busy for a Tuesday and it takes Steve three loops around the parking lot to find a decent spot.

“I told you to just park in the back. We could’ve saved so much time”

“What did I say about not talking while we’re in the car?” he asks, rhetorically. You quickly step out of the car and repeat yourself “I told you to just park in the back. We could’ve saved so much time. I’m not in the car, so you can’t get mad at me! C’mon, let's go!”

Steve sighs before taking the keys out of the ignition and following behind you. Once you reach the entrance you hold your hand out to him. He looks down at your hand and back up at you “What’s that?”

“It’s a hand, Steve. Ya know, most people have one attached to the end of their arm and-”

“What do you want me to do with your hand, smartass’’ he cuts you off. “We’re supposed to be getting used to acting like a couple, so hold my hand” your hand is still held out and you shake it in front of him. “Nope. No way” he pushes your hand but you reach it out again. “Stop being a butthead, yes I said it again because you’re acting like a five year old”

He reluctantly takes your hand and your fingers lace together. “Wow, look at that. You didn’t even burst into flames” you taunt. He doesn’t hate it as much as he thought it would. Your hands are soft and he notices that your nails match the color of your dress. It’s kind of cute.

Steve tries to shield his face with his hand and you laugh at him. “That’s not gonna work. People come from all over to see that head of hair, so they’ll be able to tell that it’s you holding my hand. I hope you’ll be able to survive this tragic event”

He removes his hand from his face “People do not come from all over just to see my hair.” he grumbles. “It’s called a joke, Steve. Since I don’t think I’ve ever seen you smile whenever I’m around then I shouldn’t be surprised you didn’t know that”

“Let’s just get this over with. Where are we going first?” you drag him to the first store and Steve is convinced everyone is staring at him while he holds your hand. (literally no one is giving either of you a second glance).

“Hold this for me, baby” you hand him a sundress and he grimaces at the nickname “Is holding hands not enough? You gotta call me ‘baby’ too?” he complains. “Get used to it, baby”

After only ten minutes in the store, Steve has a stack of clothes piled in his arms. “Are you really buying all of this?” he asks. “I’m not buying anything, you are, but I have to try it on first and you have to give me your opinion”

“My opinion is that you’re going to look horrible in all of it”

“You say that now, but you’ve never seen me in this shade of pink” you point to one of the dresses in his hand that isn’t holding yours. “I’ve seen you in every shade of every color. Your closet looks like a box of crayons exploded”

“You remember what colors I have in my wardrobe? Sounds like you’re a bit obsessed with me”

“In your dreams…babe? Ugh that sounded weird. Can you try this shit on now? My arm is about to fall off” He whines. “Yeah, I wouldn't want you to break a nail. Wait outside the dressing room so I can show you how it looks” you tell him. “Can’t wait” he replies, sarcasm dripping from his tongue.

Steve checks his watch every thirty seconds because how long does it take to try on one dress?

“Spend your whole life waitin’ on your woman, don’t ya?” an older gentleman asks him. “Uh, yeah. I guess so” chuckles. “My wife, Ethel, over there” he points in the direction of where his wife stands “always takes her sweet time. After forty years of marriage I’m still always waitin’ on her, but she still looks so damn beautiful that it’s worth it”

“Harold, leave the poor boy alone, honey” His wife says when she wanders over to her husband. “No, I don’t mind. I’m just waiting for my girl to show me her new dress” Steve says. He said ‘my girl’ so naturally he didn’t even realize it until he finished his sentence.

“Steve, what do you think- oh, hi!” you greet the couple and introduce yourself. “That’s a beautiful dress, don’t ya think Steve?” Harold asks him. “y-yeah. You look great, sweetheart” he smiles. You do look great. The color of the dress compliments your skin tone perfectly and makes your eyes pop.

“How long have you two been together?” Ethel asks. “Five months” you both say at the same time. “Oh, young love. It’s truly a wonderful thing. I feel like I’m looking in a mirror from forty years ago” She expresses and puts her hand over her heart. “We’ll let you kids get back to it. Enjoy the rest of your day” Harold says. “Thank you, you too!” you respond before they walk away.

“So, um, tell me what you really thing about this dress”

“I think it looks great” he replies. “Really? No snarky comment? Did that old couple make you go all soft on me, Harrington?”

“Not in a million years. Go try the other shit on I don’t wanna be here all day” he carps. “Okay, I’m going, but don’t fall in love with me after seeing how good I look in this next one!” yeah, right he thinks.

After a fashion show and a dent in his bank account, you finally leave the store. Most of your outfits were casual, but cute and preppy enough to impress his family. You even found a dress to wear to the wedding. “I have to get a new bathing suit. Or three new bathing suits” you announce as you walk past a store with all the summer essentials. “Three? For what reason?”

“You said your family members are all staying in lake houses and I need to be prepared. I’m also assuming this fancy hotel we’re staying in has a pool” you explain. “Oh, and how come we aren’t staying in a lake house?” you wonder. “My parents weren’t gonna rent a house for just me. I even told them I was bringing my “girlfriend”, but we’re still staying in a hotel twenty minutes away from everyone” he answers. “Oh no, we’re staying in an expensive hotel with all the amenities we could ever need. Should I bring a survival kit?” you gibe.

“Just go get your swimsuits and don’t make me watch you model them” he pleads. “Why? Scared you’ll like what you see?” Yes, he thinks to himself. “Nope. Just starving. I’m gonna go grab something from the food court” he says before scurrying off.

“Hey, can I get two soft pretzels and two lemonades, please?”

“Steve Harrington?” He hears a woman's voice and turns around. “It’s me! Beth!”

“Beth, hi!” He greets. Steve went on a date with Beth a few months ago and she never called him back. He actually really liked her, too. Until she ditched him for her new boyfriend.

“How are you? Hungry?” She asks when she she's the two pretzels and drinks in his hand. “Oh, um, ones for me and ones for my… girlfriend. She’s shopping right now- oh look, there she is! Baby, I’m over here!” he waves to get your attention.

“Aw, you got me something? You’re so sweet, Stevie” you kiss his cheek and it takes everything in him to not act weirded out. “Babe, this is Beth. Beth this is my girl, y/n”

“Nice to meet you, y/n. It was good to see you, Steve” she says and saunters off. “Did you really have to kiss my cheek?” he wipes your lipgloss off of his face. “Give me a soft pretzel and I’ll do just about anything”

“Gross” he mutters, “Are you done shopping yet?” he groans. “Yes, I’m done. Thanks again for the pretzel. That was actually really nice” you smile at him. “Don’t thank me yet. I poisoned it” he jokes and you chuckle. “Thank god. Then I wouldn’t have to spend three whole days with you”

“Well, actually, we have to go up thursday” he tells you and you stop in your tracks. “Thursday? That's in two days and I have so much to do!” you exclaim. “You’ll just have to get it done a day early. It’s the least you can do after I bought you this pretzel”

“You’re impossible”

“And you’re welcome for the delicious treat and all the clothes”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. Just take me home, please”

“Gladly”

_

By the time Thursday rolls around, you’re already exhausted from this weekend before it’s even started. You spent your entire day yesterday doing laundry, going to the store for travel things, packing, and mentally preparing yourself for being Steve’s “girlfriend”.

It wasn’t that pretending to be his significant other was going to be the worst thing in the world. He’s attractive and you’ve heard his personality is alright, you’ve just yet to meet that version of Steve, but you worried it would be awkward.

There’s no way you have any amount of chemistry with Steve that makes it convincing that you two are in love. He scowls at any pet name you give him, he practically freezes any time you touch him, and you’re pretty sure he’d slip into a coma if he was actually nice to you.

The sound of Steve honking his horn pulls you from your anxious thoughts. He can’t even come up and knock on your door. God forbid he helps you carry any of your luggage. He did pop the trunk for you, though, so that’s something at least.

“Is your arm broken?” you ask, sitting down in the passenger seat. “No?” he replies, confused. “I just figured since you didn’t help me carry a single thing that-”

“You’re bitching already? It hasn’t even been five minutes that must be a new record”

“your hair looks flat today” you insult and he glares at you “you do know i have traits other than my hair, right?”

“yeah, I know. just don’t care enough, is all” you state, looking at your manicure like his existence is irrelevant to you. “Right, okay. Let’s just not kill each other until we get there”

“Only if you promise to buy me snacks at the gas station” you bargain “Fine. Whatever you want”

_

You fell asleep halfway through the car ride and have woken up once. For some reason, Steve can’t stop himself from glancing over you. Your head is resting on the window, your lips are slightly parted, and if he didn’t already know you, he’d think you actually look kind of sweet.

“Hey” he whispers and gently shakes your shoulder to wake you up. You grunt in response and he shakes your shoulder a little more. “Wake up, we’re almost at my parents lake house” he says and you jolt awake. “We’re stopping there first? I’m not prepared for that!” you exclaim and flip down the visor mirror to make yourself look presentable.

“They said they have a surprise for us and they’re looking forward to meeting you. It’ll be fine” he puts his hand on your thigh for a split second then quickly pulls it back. “And here we are” he announces when he pulls into the driveway. It’s more of a lake mansion than a lake house, but you didn’t expect anything less. Steve opens the passenger side door for you just in case anyone is watching. He can tell you’re nervous about meeting his parents. You’ve been fiddling with the hem of your top and the look on your face isn’t exactly hiding any of your emotions.

Steve grabs your hand and you’re taken by surprise. He’s touching you without acting like there’s a gun to his head. “Ready to meet the parents?” he asks, giving your hand a squeeze “As ready as I’ll ever be”

He knocks on the door and your leg bounces, anxiously. “Hey, stop worrying. They’ll love you. Most people think you’re great. Apart from me, obviously” he jests and you snicker. You know it isn’t a big deal if his parents don’t like you. You two aren’t actually together and there's a high chance you’ll never see them again, but you have this irritating need for people’s approval. Which is a bit ironic considering your hand is currently being held by the one person who has a huge issue with you.

“Steve, honey! We’re so glad you’re here!” his mom exclaims before hugging him. “You must be y/n! It’s so nice to meet you!” she hugs you next. “It’s nice to meet you too, Mrs. Harrington”

“Oh, please, call me Joanne. Come in, I’ll get your father. George, Steve and his girlfriend are here!” she shouts when you all walk inside.

Steves’ father emerges from the back porch of the house and it’s like Steve twenty-five years from now walked in from the future. “Now, what’s someone as pretty as you doing with my son? Did you pay her Steve?” he jokes, but he has no idea how close he is to being correct. “Thanks, dad, good to see you too.” Steve grumbles. “Don’t get too upset, I know how sensitive you can be. I’m George, it’s a pleasure to meet you” he extends his hand and you shake it. “It’s great to meet you. I’m y/n”

“You’re much nicer than most girls my son dates. There was one girl-”

“Anyways, mom said you had a surprise for us” Steve interrupts his dad. “Yes, we do!” his mom says and hands Steve a key. “What’s this?” he asks as he holds the key. “Well, your father and I thought it might be romantic if you two had your own house and you’d be much closer to the family. It’s just right up the road and we cancelled your hotel reservation.”

“That’s so kind of you, Mrs. Harr- Joanne. You didn’t have to do that” you thank her and she beams at your appreciation. “Honey, we’re just so grateful that Steve has found someone that he clearly loves. You should’ve heard how he spoke about you on the phone” She tells you and Steve’s face turns beet red when you turn to look at him. “Uh, yeah, thank you. We should probably go check this out, yeah?’’ he asks and you nod.

“Once you freshen up, don’t forget we’re having dinner here tonight!” Joanne reminds the both of you before saying your goodbyes. Your nerves come back when you think about meeting the rest of his family.

“So… what did you say about me on the phone?” you ask once you both step outside. “I don’t even remember. I didn’t really say much” he lies, but he doesn’t want you to know just in case you get the wrong impression that he might not dislike you as much as you think he does. “Keep your secrets, then. Let's go check out our house!” you squeal and run to the car.

“Oh my gosh, it’s so cute!” you say as you pull into the driveway. The house is smaller than the others, but the ideal size for two people. There’s a porch that overlooks the lake with two rocking chairs and a coffee table. It’s perfect for watching the sun rise and set.

It does make you a little sad that if you weren’t here, Steve would be all alone in a hotel while the rest of his family was within walking distance. Why wouldn’t he stay with his parents? or another family member? “Did you hear me?” he asks, bringing you back from all the questioning going on in your mind.“No, sorry. What did ya say?”

“I asked if you’re ready to go inside. I’ll help you with your bags this time”

“Yeah, thanks.” you grin and get out of the car.

The inside of the house is as beautiful as the outside. It’s cozy and inviting. If Steve was your boyfriend, it would be very romantic. “So, only one bedroom I suppose,” Steve speaks up. “I’ll take the couch” he volunteers.

“Steve, I can already tell you’re too tall for that couch. I’ll take it”

“No, it’s fine. I don’t mind”

“Or we could be adults and share the bed? It’s big enough that you won’t even come close to touching me” you assure him. “If you wanted to sleep next to me, all you had to do was ask” he smirks and your nose scrunches in disgust. “Shut up, I’m trying to be nice to you”

“Let’s unpack before we have to go to dinner. Are you nervous about meeting everyone else?” he asks as you throw your luggage on the bed so you can unpack your bags. “Yeah, I guess. Is there anything I should know?” you question. “Not really. My parents seemed to like you, so they’ve probably already put in a good word.”

The rest of the time you spend unpacking and getting ready is spent in silence. It isn’t either an awkward or comfortable silence. It’s like neither of you are there, not acknowledging each other unless absolutely necessary.

_

You and Steve decide to walk to his parents since it’s such a pleasant evening. The sound of the lake is peaceful and the moonlight illuminates your surroundings so perfectly that it makes the street lamps needless. “It really is lovely out here” you say and Steve hums in agreement. “Are you nervous, Steve? About seeing your family? You ask and he lets out a sigh that he’s been holding in for a while. “Kind of, but they’re probably gonna be more focused on you”

“Do you wanna talk about it?” you offer and he shakes his head. “Nah, that’s alright. We’re almost there anyway” When you walk through the door of the house, Steve places his hand on the small of your back. Only for appearances, clearly. “We’re here” he announces and his family comes over to greet you.

“You must be y/n! I’m Linda, Steve’s aunt. We’ve heard many great things about you!” You make your way through all introductions followed by a million it’s nice to meet you too’s. His family is bigger than you expected and you can definitely tell that they have money just by looking at them.

You’re finally offered a glass of wine and happily accept. “Here, Steve, it’s an old-fashioned. The real man's drink” His father hands him a glass and he has to stop himself from chugging it.

“We are all dying to know how you two met” Steve’s aunt says to you once you and Steve are in the kitchen. It seems like everyone is gathered in the kitchen to hear the story. Steve looks a little lost so you decide you’ll take the lead on this one.

“Well, we met through mutual friends and Steve was terrible at attempting to flirt with me. I thought he was just so cute and one night I got stood up on a blind date and Steve came to my rescue and the rest is history” you wrap your arm around his back and his arm wraps around your shoulder. He can’t believe how quickly you came up with that. Your story is met with many ‘aws’ and Steve mouths a ‘thank you’ when no one is looking.

“I like your dress’’ you hear a small voice come from behind you and you turn around to see the most adorable toddler with pigtails. “Thank you, sweetie. I like your hair” you bend down to eye level with her. “I’m y/n. What’s your name?”. “Penelope. I’m this many” She holds up three fingers and you smile. “Do y’wanna color with me?” she asks and you follow her to the table she was coloring at.

“Are you married to Steve?”

“Nope, not married, but I am his girlfriend” it still feels weird to say that. “Okay. You can use my crayons”

Steve watched this interaction from the kitchen. He thinks the drink is already starting to go to his head because he thinks it's absolutely adorable. You’re a natural with kids and with his family. He can’t tell if it’s all part of the act or if you are actually this amazing.

Dinner goes smoothly with the help of several alcoholic beverages. Steve’s hand has been on your thigh throughout the entire meal and he didn’t act bothered by it at all. Maybe his acting skills aren’t so abysmal after all.

“Can I help you wash up?” you ask his mom as she cleans up the kitchen. “That would be wonderful, dear.”

“Penelope adores you, by the way. She’s always been a little shy and she warmed up to you just like that.” She tells you. “She’s a sweet kid. I was like that when I was younger. Shy, I mean. Guess I still am” a small chuckle escapes your throat. “Well, no worries about that. The family loves you” She assures you and you give her a kind smile.

“Ready to go, babe?” Steve asks you. “Go on, I’ll make George help with cleanup” His mom hugs you both and his hand holds yours as you say your goodbyes to everyone.

“That wine got to me, I think. I feel all warm and fuzzy” you say with a giggle. Steve still hasn’t let go of your hand even though you're halfway back to the house by now. “I know what you mean. You were great, by the way. Pretty sure they’re convinced we’re in love.”

“Wow, you’re complimenting me? You must definitely be tipsy” you laugh. “And you’re still holding my hand so you’re absolutely toasted” he quips. “m’not. I just might fall over if you let go” so he doesn’t let go, not until you’re both inside the bedroom.

Once you both climb into bed, there’s more than a respectable distance between you and Steve. For some reason, a strange thought crosses your mind and you have the biggest urge to bring it up. “Hey, Steve?”

“Hm?”

“I thought of something we haven’t practiced yet and it’s kinda weird, but hear me out”

“Okay…I’m listening” he says, sounding a little suspicious. “Do you think it’ll be weird if we don’t kiss? Nothing crazy just a couple pecks here and there” he sits up and turns on the bedside table lamp. “You wanna makeout in front of my family?”

“No! Of course not. I said peck” he doesn’t respond and you’ve never felt more embarrassed in your life.

“Okay. Yeah, we probably should practice it. Ya know, just to be convincing” he finally speaks up. “Yeah. Just to be convincing.” you both sit up and scoot closer to each other. “Wait! Can you turn off the light?” you request and he quickly turns off the light.

You feel Steve’s hand resting on your cheek and your heart thumps in your chest out of nerves, not anything else, that’s for sure. “Ready?” he asks “Ready”

His lips brush yours and linger for a few seconds before he places his lips on yours in a proper kiss. It’s a simple kiss. There’s no tongue, obviously, and it feels like it’s over before it's even started.

“Wait, sorry. Let me try again” he says. He kisses you again and it’s still simple, but this time your lips move together in a harmonious agreement. His body moves closer to yours and you feel yourself slipping away, like you’ve forgotten that you’re kissing Steve Harrington. Someone that you aren’t supposed to be kissing.

He pulls back as he feels that the kiss might grow more intense. You’re left breathless and stunned, but Steve doesn’t seem to be as affected as you are, but he is. His palms are sweaty and his heart feels like it might jump out of his throat. He nonchalantly rolls over back to his side while you stay in the same position, staring at his silhouette.

“Goodnight, y/n”

“y-yeah, goodnight”

_

a/n: IT’LL GET JUCIER SOON I PROMISE

_

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