#wrote some of the absolute worst words of my life tonight

[coffeeandcalligraphy]

crazy to have hit 30k in sunless ground this month & for the manuscript to be almost at 40k like. when did that happen

[nowoyas]

(un)professional (NSFW/suggestive) - Nishinoya Yuu/Reader

m.list - Ao3

A/N: written at the suggestion of an anon! I'm very likely going to write a follow-up to this.

Summary: It's your company's 50th anniversary, and it's kicking off a month-long anniversary celebration with a mandatory work banquet. Formal wear, impress the clients invited to the event, oh—and bring your partner. Surely, Noya can be trusted to keep his hands off you for one night, right?

Warnings: suggestive, suit kink, semi-public, making out, biting (I mean come on it's a fic I wrote you can just kinda expect it at this point)

Words: 2300+

You are quite sure that you've been this stressed at least once before in your life, but nothing really comes to mind. Entrance exams, maybe? Waiting to hear back on whether or not you had a future?

None of that compares to this.

This, of course, refers nearly every waking moment of the past few weeks: preparing for a month of work events, of 50th anniversary sales, marketing marketing marketing, long nights at the office and coming home to your pouty, early-to-bed boyfriend who misses you the way a puppy might—half-asleep but excited to see you all the same.

He's been so good in the past few weeks. Making sure you ate, sending you reminder texts to take a nap and that he loves you, and you adore Noya with your whole heart for being there throughout the crunch.

It's almost over. Soon, it'll be the actual events, instead of the million tasks required to prep each one—kicked off with a banquet. Dinner, mingling with coworkers, other departments, and some of the bigger-ticket clients. Formal wear. And, like everyone else in attendance, you are expected to bring your partner.

He'd agreed. That was the worst part. You'd offered to take a friend instead, but that had only made him mad—and let everyone think you belong to someone else? Hell no. He didn't have anything going on, his work actually gave him the time off, and, since you were busy ripping your hair out, he assured you that he was getting a suit with friends—and, he'd added, with Asahi, the fashion designer, and not Ryu, the one who only seems to encourage his chaos—and that everything would be ready in time for the banquet. He'd sat back and patiently waited for you to detail boundaries for the night, but still it wasn't enough.

The thing isn't that you don't trust him. It's that it's Noya, your Noya, who you love. Ever since you moved in together over a year ago, his hands have rarely left your body at home, and you frequently find yourself interrupted with dizzying kisses before he goes back to whatever he's doing. He thrives on showering you with affection, and you adore him for it, adore the little boost of self-esteem at knowing just how much he wants you, but… you don't exactly want him pausing to affectionately plant a kiss on your neck where your boss can see.

"No grabbing my ass tonight," you call over your shoulder as Noya gets ready in the bathroom. You're already ready to go, frantically cleaning up the bedroom in an effort to work out the nervous energy. "I do mean that."

Noya groans from the bathroom. "But it's perfectly shaped for my hand!"

"One of our biggest clients, and also my boss, are going to be there. No."

He whines in reply, and you let out a nerve-riddled sigh. "Please, Noya. I could lose my job if they think I'm unprofessional tonight."

"You're not gonna lose your job. I promise. I can be good, you know?"

You straighten up, having re-made the bed for the fiftieth time in the past twenty-minutes. "I know, I just��"

You turn and there's Noya: fresh cologne, chapsticked lips pressing sweetly against yours. "Baby. I'm gonna be the perfect coworker's boyfriend tonight. Hand on your waist, no sliding lower or higher, at absolute worst one or two completely workplace-appropriate kisses. Professional as fuck. The only PDA is gonna be Professional Displays of Affection. Alright?"

You sigh, letting him kiss you one more time. "Alright. I trust you."

"Gonna be the best arm candy. Gonna make them think I'm your trophy husband," he teases as he peppers kisses on your cheeks. "Some old dude is gonna make a boring joke and I'm gonna giggle like a sugar baby so you look smarter just by standing next to me."

You giggle, pushing him away. "Stop that."

"You could replace me with a purse dog tonight, that's how good I'm gonna be. The most professional little pomeranian in an overpriced bag. They're gonna think I'm a stuffed animal for the first hour until they notice all the food on my plate has mysteriously disappeared."

"Oh my god, Noya—"

He stops and sighs, and you sigh with him, flashing a dopey little smile. That's about when you open your eyes and really look at him, and oh.

Your mouth suddenly feels dry as you take him in. Noya's slicked his hair back, leaving his trademark little tuft of blonde spiked up the normal way. He's already mostly dressed—well-fitting pants, nice shirt, a fucking vest that cinches in his waist a little. His tie hangs, loose and not-yet-tied, around his neck. In short, he looks delicious, and you're reminded that you maybe have been avoiding eye contact with a little bit of a thing for suits for a few years, now.

He grins sheepishly. "I haven't had to tie a tie since I graduated middle school. Could you, uh…?"

You nod. Fumble a little as you reach for the tie. Try to blink away the fog that has suddenly clouded over your thoughts. "Y-yeah, of course."

"Something wrong?"

"No! No, of course not, just—you did good by bringing your friend to get the suit. It's perfect," you manage. Of course, what you mean is something more along the lines of I need to jump your bones right this instant, but you've got fifteen minutes before you have to leave so you get there appropriately early, so instead, you try not to call attention to it, and instead focus on his tie.

"Good, right? Asahi-san said I should match it to you, so…"

Oh. It does match. You're not in identical suits, but his vest matches your jacket, his tie your vest. Your own tie melds well with your outfit and his, and your heart melts a little at the thought. "Thank him for me. You look great."

"Great?" he repeats, waggling his eyebrows with a smug look.

"Fantastic," you assure him as you secure the knot. For good measure, you smooth down his collar, and then, as you lean in to kiss him, you tuck the tie down his vest. "Got your jacket?"

"In the living room. Am I driving?"

"Please."

"Got it, babe." He flashes a smile, and you watch appreciatively as he slips into his suit jacket, effortless, and fastens the button.

"You're the best," you reply, eyes lingering on the curve of his waist, the fit of his pants on his ass.

You are so fucked.

~

You're glad you made Noya drive; for one thing, you're better at navigating from the passenger seat, and for another, you can't fucking tear your eyes off him. He keeps a hand on your thigh the whole way there, thumb rubbing circles into the fabric the way he always does when he's trying to keep you grounded. It's his silent way of saying: breathe. I got you.

So you breathe. You try to compose yourself on the way to the hotel, try to get ahold of your brain so you're not blatantly staring at him the whole night. But it's hard, okay? It's fucking hard. Noya lounges around your house topless, in sweatpants, during the summers and in a loose hoodie and pants in the winter. He's a t-shirt and basketball shorts guy. You've never seen him dressed up like this. The scent of his cologne is making you dizzy.

And he's just as perfect as he promised he'd be: he walks you in, keeps his hand in E-for-Everyone-rated placements, makes charming small talk with the coworkers you've been sat with. When it comes time to mingle, you mingle, and he does a better job of chatting up the clients and executives than you do. If you could think about anything except his shoulders in that jacket, you might be thinking something along the lines of how he's practically earning you a raise by himself.

He lets you handle the polite refusal of champagne for the both of you, gushes over how hard you've been working for your company's 50th these past few months, how proud he is of you. For the millionth time, you're reminded of how easy it is to love him: he's so bright, so good with people, so effortless in how he navigates the social waters. And he's hot as all fuck.

He's so good that you don't even mind when he excuses himself to find a restroom—you're engaged in conversation with your boss and one of your favorite coworkers, able to ride the high of him behaving himself while you charm all the right people. You channel Noya in his absence, and it's easy—everyone else is at least tipsy, but the two of you are not, and it makes it all the easier.

They're quick to gush about him in his absence—how nice he is, how charming, how utterly professional in comparison to one of your seniors, pulled away from nearly sitting in her husband's lap in the corner. You preen under the attention, more proud of Noya than you ever have been of yourself, and chat with them until, at last, you're starting to feel a bit suspicious.

Noya's been gone over twenty minutes.

"I'm gonna go looking for him, actually," you say with a smile. "He probably got caught up talking to someone."

"Good luck," your boss says, grin wide. "And keep up the good work!"

You scan the room for him, to no avail. You'd know his voice anywhere, know where to find him in an instant—even when he's not being loud, like tonight, your ears are specially tuned to the sound of his voice. And he's not here. Frowning, you slip out into the hall in search of the bathrooms, and in the cool quiet of the hallway, away from all the people, you let out a sigh of relief.

You hope you find him soon.

You follow down the dim hallway, eyes scanning just in case a certain someone decides to try to scare you—

And yelp as you're dragged, wrist-first, into a dark closet.

You find yourself staring into familiar brown eyes, warm and molten as you're pulled flush against a too-familiar body. "Hi," Noya whispers. "Been looking for you."

"You're supposed to be my emotional support extrovert!" you pout, hitting his chest lightly. "You left me to socialize all by myself!"

"Well, I had to get you away somehow." He flashes a wicked grin, and the discomfort that's been brewing between your thighs all night rears its head once again. "Someone can't keep their eyes off me today."

"I-I think you're projecting," you mumble, eyes lingering on his lips.

"Am I? I can feel your eyes on me, you know," he teases. "I think you're supposed to be attracted to your boyfriend."

"You look really good in a suit," you admit at last. "Like, too good."

"There it is. That can't have been that hard to say."

"Oh, shut up," you snap. His thumbs hook into your belt loops, tug you forward until his thigh is firmly pressed between yours. You gasp at the sudden pressure, the grind of him against your heat.

He stifles a laugh. "We gotta be quiet, [name]. You don't want anyone to think you're unprofessional, do you?"

"Oh fuck you."

"That's kind of the goal, babe. You spent all week telling me to be good tonight, and you can barely stop checking me out for a few seconds."

Frustrated, you grab at his tie, tug him into a hot, open-mouthed kiss. His hands slide—one gripping your ass, the other unbuttoning your suit jacket just to rest on your waist—and his lips are hot against yours as he kisses you senseless. He tastes more than pleasant, and you're pretty sure he reapplied his chapstick while he was waiting for you.

When you break away, breathless, you drop your head against his shoulder. But his hands don't stop moving: he loosens your tie, begins unbuttoning your shirt.

"Noya," you breathe, pushing at him lightly. "We can't."

"I'll stop if you tell me to," he replies, and then he's pushing the collar of your shirt aside, attaching his lips to your collarbone.

"Yuu," you whine.

He doesn't stop, and you don't tell him to. He scrapes his teeth against your flesh, finds the spot he's memorized just to make you melt as you drag your hips against his leg.

You shouldn't be doing this, but you find it hard to care with how easily he wrecks you, how easily he has you a puddle of mush at his feet. You think you might go completely insane if you don't get his dick in your mouth just like this—him fully clothed, you disheveled and waiting for him, but he has other plans as his hands continue their adventure in mapping out your body.

He moves from your collarbone only to kiss you again properly, slipping his tongue into your mouth. You moan softly around his tongue, eager for more, his hands sliding down to slip below your waistband, closer and closer to your soaked panties—

And tucking your shirt in neatly as he pulls away all at once. You chase his lips with a whine, pouting even harder when he begins buttoning your shirt back up with a snicker.

"Yuu, what are you—"

He smiles as he smooths down your collar. "I promised I'd behave, didn't I?"

"I hate you."

"No, you don't."

"I do," you grumble.

He fixes your hair. "You can hate me when we get home. Right now, I'd focus my energy on not walking out of this storage closet looking like you're ready to ride me in front of all your big-ticket clients."

You groan, drop your head against his shoulder again. "Fuck you. Seriously, fuck you."

"Not here," he teases. "It wouldn't be very professional to do it here."

You're either gonna marry him or kill him by the end of the year. You'll decide in the car.

Tags: @deeplightgarden @idonthaveanameideayet @dusstory

[aller-geez]

Bless You

By Levi’s Owner, not sure if she wants her name here ☺️

Please note! She doesn’t have the kink, but dabbles in a LOT of kink spaces that she doesn’t have, and she knows how much I love RemixLevi and wrote this amazing OneShot with permission to share 🥰 it got me GOING I cannot lie. A little sub/dom relationship, snz teasing, public sex in a bathroom, and definitely NSFW 18+ content.

BLESS her heart, she searched the internet for snz spellings too 🥹🥹

please enjoy~

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

The Thomas bus door swung open and inside climbed in a tall, overtly excited man who bounced the entire house as he danced and jumped about. "Babe!!" he cried out looking for his smaller counterpart, emerald orbs scanning quickly around the small space but not immediately seeing the love of his life.

"Im in here," Remi heard a soft muffled voice coming from inside the pile of stuffies on their bed, followed by the soft ambient music of a video game he knew too well, minecraft. The wolf smirked at the pile shaking his head and rolling his emerald green eyes.

"Enrichment time in your enclosure?" he asked casually before the leopard's mop of white and black hairs came popping out through the middle, cheesin.

"How could you guess?" he giggled sliding out of his stuffie cave, putting his game on pause and setting it aside. "Whats up? You look like someone set fireworks off in your pants," he teased, poking his index fingers up and down the man's fairly chiseled, but clothed, abs. Remi swatted at his partner's hands and laughed through his nose.

"Baaaaabe," he rolled his eyes and then grasped both of his lover's wrists in his hands, gently, but it only gave Levi an even more squirrely case of the zoomies.

"Ooo you gonna make me??" he giggled again, tugging and pulling on his hands as the wolf's grip tightened, he sneered at him with lust behind his eyes before pushing their foreheads together gently.

"Why would I reward such bratty behavior? Be still and let me share this good news, maybe Kitten will get some play," he brushed their lips just barely together, a whisper of what a kiss really was, his fiance's face turning bright red, eyes sinking and he nodded ever so slightly with a gentle swallow. "Good boy," Remi patted the side of Levi's face with a light slap, a bit harder than one normally would their partner, but the cat loved abuse. Tingles shot down the leopard's spine as he wiggled to attention.

Standing up straight this time now, fixing his beat up leather jacket and lifting his head held high, Remi spoke "WE, you and me, have a big opportunity tonight, we have dinner with this dude from Wallstreet, he can get me an in and even though I know nothing, and have zero experience he's willing to teach me everything so we can be rolling in the money!" absolutely excited for the chance to be able to pay back tenfold what Levi has done for him the past 5 years, was euphoric, but he immediately sunk in himself when he saw the look on his mate's face. "What's wrong?" he asked cautiously, almost timid. Levi looked down at his hands and twiddled his thumbs, he wasn't sure he had the right words.

He loved Remi, more than words could ever describe, they were soulmates and he hated the idea of him throwing his soul away to work in corporate, worse yet, WALLSTREET. "Honey....wallstreet is where dreams die and lives are ruined at the expense of paper," his artic colored eyes looked up now at Remi's completely crushed face.

"You're not...proud? or ...excited?" Immediately feeling like a pile of the 'worst fiance' ever quickly, the cat threw his hands out in waves.

"No baby, I AM proud of you, and Im so excited that people are willing to see your potential, and that theyre giving you such opportunities to be successful but, this isn't your dream, my love, and I just don't want you to fall back in your progress because you think you HAVE to make millions of dollars to take care of us," he had stood up to face Remi, well, face his chest he was still significantly smaller. Sliding his hands up and down the nervous man's front in a soothing motion to calm him back down, making eye contact again, "I apologize, my love, you know how I can be, I should have had a better pros and cons talk with you after the dinner, I should have just been excited for you," instantly feeling bad for his realism that often rained on Remi's parade.

Leaning down to kiss him in a soft peck, Remi brushed his hand against the younger's cheek and gave him a reassuring smile. "I know you're just thinking about my mental health, I'll always be grateful for that because no one else ever has," their eyes met and they regrouped their emotions by sliding themselves into a deep but disciplined kiss. Before things got handsy, Remi pulled back and bopped the tip of Levi's nose with his long index finger. "Get ready, we can talk more after the dinner and consider the options," nodding his head in agreement, the skinny white haired male lept up and got into action. Remington wants to have a nice fancy dinner with a rich fancy wallstreet man? Fine. No problem. He will just have to create a little "devine intervention" tonight. The two of them immediately started scrounging and scouring to get ready for this opportunity they both had been suddenly blessed with; different motives, but opportunities none the less.

Remington had hopped himself in the shower, Levi had already cleaned himself this morning so he was ready to throw on his clothes, but which would he pick? If he was going to cause some ruckus he was going to need to pull up to all the stops. Out he snaked a pair of leather black tight pants, adorned in black rose lace down the sides of the legs "He looooves these on me," giggling in almost a demonic fashion, he slid whatever he was wearing off, and pulled on the pants, no underwear, cause that would absolutely ruin the aesthetic of exposed lacey flesh on the sides. Levi stood shirtless as he could hear Remi fumbling in the shower with the many bottles of product. Trying hard not to laugh to himself knowing the wolf was probably overly rushing himself, causing panicked chaos in the shower. He was right. The grumpier of the two was absolutely having a terrible time in there.

"ITS SO FUCKING SMALL IN HERE!" the leopard covered his mouth quickly to stifle the laughter threatening to explode from him as his lover shouted from their bathroom. Shaking his head now he went back to his mission of top, and accessories. Plucking it gently from his closet was a light blue silk shirt "Amazing," he kissed the air before sliding that onto his thin frame, looking himself up and down in the long mirror attached to the wall. "Hmmm," he contemplated as he looked himself all around, then tucking his shirt loosely into the pants, and unbuttoned 3 of the buttons to reveal a bit of chest flesh. "Thatll do him," sliding on some black loafers that had the image of a blue iris embroidered on the tops, he began scanning through his jewelry. Remington stepped out, towel over his head as he tried his best to dry out his hair, walking past Levi to the otherside of the bedroom cabin was his side. "Clothes....Clothes...." he started tearing into his closet nervously.

Looking back at his partner from the mirror while adjusting his one diamond earring in, "Honey, wear the beige trench coat with some black, you'll look perfect," the mate said honestly. Remi looked up in his cabinets and considered the suggestion, he pulled out his black straight leg dress pants, they just neatly clug to his legs in all the right places.

Back on the other side of the cabin, while Remi fished for his dress shirt, Levi was linking around his slender neck a sparkling, thin diamond chain and in the middle that sat against his freckled, exposed chest was a wolf's paw print, melded in sterling silver. Last but not least, a silver chain he link around his waist, a long piece connected that draped down his hip. Twirling around and admiring himself in the reflection, he fixed up his hair with some gel, and made his way out of the bedroom so Remi could have the mirror now. Still not paying full attention to what his partner was wearing or even doing, he scampered over to the mirror fixing any mistakes there may be. He had gone with a tucked in black long sleeve button up, shiny black tied dress shoes and ontop of it all was a very expensive looking, light brown long coat that toned in all the black he was wearing. Flicking the lapels of his jacket a few times and running his fingers through his hair, he made finger guns and clicked at his reflection. "Lookin good brother," he offhandedly said to himself before exiting the bedroom.

Bent up against the front door, keys dangling from the tip of his finger he licked his teeth, canines more specifically, he had dazzled in gems. Remi stopped in his tracks, gazing vertically at his mate, feeling a wave of possessiveness boil through him. "No," he said immediately. "You can't wear that, it'll have me in heat all god damn night, No!" his face flushed as he tried to keep his eyes off, but could only keep them locked on.

"Remington, You know far too well this isn't a fight you'll win so grab the keys to Ethel and lets get going," he stuck his tongue out over at his man, who in turn rolled his eyes, squeezed the bridge of his nose and sighed in frustration.

"Its going to be a rough night for me I can tell," swiping the hunk of keys off the counter, Levi snorted.

"You never know~" his tone said, innocent, like 'oh trust the universe itll bring good things' but it had been far too long with his mate to know from that very instant, the man was up to no good, and Remi was already quaking in his shoes. They followed each other out, locked up Maybelle and got going in Ethel, which Remi had pretty much turned into his studio room with added storage space for his things. They were working up a way to create space for a bed somehow, for nights he has to be away from Levi for whatever reasons.

It wasnt a very long drive from the park they were currently staying at, out to the city, and eventually, restaurant. However, they did get very, very crusty side ways looks from the rich folks watching Remi drive into the lot with his van. "Bunch of prudes," Levi scoffed as he folded his arms against his chest. He hated rich white people, always so concerned with what everyone else has going on. Remi chuckled at his comment, he didn't give a shit. Look at him whichever way, however way you please, as far as he's concerned, with Levi by his side, his sister safe and the world back to being enjoyable, inbred rich people opinions couldnt touch him.

Parking the vehicle, both men got out of the van and walked up to the podium that said Reservations. "Remington for 3," the towering raven haired man said firmly, eyeing the employee down. Giggling softly, Levi grabbed onto Remi's hand and leaned himself against his partner's side, eyes judging the sweating employee infront of them. Clearly this establishment wasnt used to people like them whether that be gay, or just not visibly rich.

"Right this way gentlemen..." the usher said carrying them to a table with a much older, clean cut looking sir already seated, and scanning through the menu with a bottle of merlot sitting beside his half full glass. "Here is your table, please enjoy," the waiter bowed and left two more menus behind for them. Like the true knight in shining armor he was, Remington pulled one of the chairs out slightly for his fiance to sit at, Levi taking the gesture and letting his man push him in as well. "Good to meet you, I'm Remington, hope you don't mind me seating my partner first," extending a strong calloused hand out to the business man who smiled brightly and shook it enthusiastically. "No problem, at all, Good to meet ya! I'm Bill," he introduced himself cheerfully as they all were now seating themselves comfortably and glancing around the table. "This is my fiance, soulmate and partner in crime, Levi Anderson," the leopard extended a hand across the table as to shake Bill's already waiting hand.

"Pleasure," the shortest of the three said charmingly. The men began to discuss things as men do, but it was Levi's biggest shot now. Guards were down, ideas were flowing, plans were being made, if he didn't act fast, his lover was going to get smooth talked straight into hell through the promise of money and good benefits. The waiter came by silently, dropping off a charcuterie board for the table and leaving, Levi spotted his opportunity. As Remi continued to talk business with this plain old man, Levi was coveting some of the crackers to hide the fact he was also grabbing the pepper shaker. Looking around him to make sure he wasnt going to get caught doing such a childish thing in such a fancy establishment, but he dumped some on his cracker and brought it to his lips, without being noticed he silently, and secretly, snorted it up his nose. The second he did, it forced its way out from him like a volcanic eruption, no time to prepare, only react.

"HET-CHU!!~" He sniffled his nose, before another wave hit him. "cHU!~"

*Thadump* a sound Levi knew, so very intimately. Remi's heart beating loudly.

'No....No he wouldnt...' Remi flushed trying to swallow the sexual anguish he felt after hearing his partner break into sneeze, shifting ever so slightly in his seat to remain calm, to keep himself in check.

"Are you alright over there?" Bill asked concerned with the sudden series of sniffles, sliding an inch away, cautious of a virus.

"Oh..yes, I just have really bad allergies," he said sheepishly tucking a piece of loose hair behind his ear, his voice inflected to sound more stuffed up than he usually would be after two sneezes. The older man nodded turning back to Remi, who dead eyed his mate that only returned his gaze with a sly wink.

'That sadistic little shit....oh he's going to get it whe-' staring blankly at the man who was prattling on in front of him before his thought was shattered by the sound of yet another sneeze. 'Keep it together Rem...' his groin twitched.

"eh-TSH-eh!" Levi snuffled and rubbed his nose into the napkin in small circles, pulling it away, a bead of sweat started to slip down the side of Remi's face. Bill not noticing a single thing wrong as he boasted about his career and accomplishments, all the things he could do for Remi. All Remi could concentrate on was all he could do to Levi in this very moment. Would he go to jail if he just ravaged him here?

"TSHOO!" Levi tried to hold that one in halfway to give it a more dramatic effect. He knew it was sending waves of electricity down the wolf's spine, he wiggled in his seat. His baby blues blinking gently in the direction of his tortured lover.

"Hey, Remi arent you going to offer your fiance a hand or something?" Bill looking over between the two of them, Remi's soul completely out of his body due to the position he was currently in.

"I- Uh, yes I uhm....honey?" He held out his bare hand to Levi, brain completely not registering what he was even offering, Bill cocked an eyebrow, even the leopard looked slightly confused, but taking it anyway and then letting out another one, gentlier this time, nothing crazy flying out, just hot ridged breath in between his long shaking fingers. "ESHUH~" it came out almost high pitched in sound, too cute to the wolf's ears, his cock started to pump full of blood. The sensation of feeling such a gentle action, the sound, the absolute publicness of this display, it was so entirely naughty. They both clearly knew between the two of them, what was really going on. While Bill laughed out loudly and threw himself back with his hands on his stomach.

"I LIKE him! Funny guy you have yourself promised to here," he slapped Remi on the side of the arm who tensed up and snapped his gaze back to reality.

"Oh I- uh...Yeah, he sure is something isnt he?" joking along nervously, the dark haired man was lucky that this old rich idiot was far too concerned with his ego to notice how absolutely rock solid and flustered he was. Slamming his fist on the table he coughed "We should order right? Food? That would be good..." He muttered scanning the menu lazily trying with every last inch of his soul to distract himself.

"Oh yes I'd love a clam cho-OWCHUH!" the white haired adonis male was interupted again by yet another violent sternutate. "Terribly sorry, don't mind me I'll just have to excuse myself to the....restroom, I'd like a clam chowder bread bowl," ordering as he stood up, glared at his partner to follow him, and continued his journey to the back bathrooms. While Bill's attention was on Levi to remember the order, Remi quickly snagged the pepper shaker, shoveling it into his pocket before he too stood up. "Yeah, I gotta piss, steak, rare, thanks, I'll be right back, so sorry," he excused himself as Bill waved him off without a care in the world, or concern on his plate.

The second, the absolute milisecond Remi pushes past the doors of the restroom and locates his partner's shoes in the correct stall, he practically peels the door off its hinges. "You think you're clever dont you??" He shouts in a whispered fashion incase anyone comes in.

"What do you mean, my lover?" playing it completely innocent in high brat fashion, cornering himself against the wall of the handicapped stall. The wolf loomed closer, each step of his shoe echoed within the chambers of the bathroom itself. Diamond eyes traced every move up the masculine man's body, stopping at the slightly enraged, but completely passion stricken facial expression.

"Oh? Oh we want to act like I'm stupid?" Raising a thin black eyebrow as he walked himself an inch away from Levi's face, "You've been playing with fire all night, my naughty little kitten, and now you're going to be punished, severely," He gripped Levi by a fist full of hair, knuckles white, Levi's eyes forced open by the pressure, mouth cocked.

"Hng~" The leopard whimpered softly, legs buckling underneath the sheer dominance of his mate. "D-daddy please I didnt mean to upset you..." his lips quivered but it was too late, the black haired man ran his tongue up the smaller's thin, etched neck, nipping at the line of his jaw. A whisper of a moan came bursting from out of Levi's vocals, like music to Remi's ears, but that wasn't what he wanted to hear tonight in this bathroom with amazing acoustics. While Levi's head is pulled back he takes the shaker in his other hand and swiftly brings it up to the man's nostirls. "NNnNGh~ AHHH~~~ EHhHhHhCHTUUU~!" Levi sneezes loudly, aggressively, suddenly into the side of Remi's face, echoing inside his ear drum, unhinged, uninterupted, bouncing off the walls and giving him a second helping.

"Mmm you wanted to entertain, so you're going to entertain me.....unleash it," he referenced, grinding his painfully erect dick up against the younger through the painful fabric of his pants. Wasting no time while head cocked in position backward, he still expertly found his way to his partner's belt unclinking it. "Give Daddy another, come on, be good for him now," He said gripping tighter against Levi's thick hair, between the pepper, the position of his face against the ceiling lighting, he didnt stand a single chance.

"etSHU! ET-SHU! EHTSHU-EH!" it came out in a series, as they spilled into the air around them, Remi forced the afflicted one just under his ear at the crook of his neck by the nap of his hair, instead of pulled backward, he wanted to intake every last reverberation through his core. Levi's hand fumbled its way past his waist band, through every inch of fabric to touch hot, throbbing flesh in his palm.

"Oo-fu-fuck," Remi hissed beside Levi's ear, the leopard's own pants feeling relatively too tight, but as in true punishment fashion, knew he was not the focus of this particular event. He was in big, big trouble. "Now, now, don't be shy," whispering in a sultry dark tone. "Don't stop," huffing faster now as Levi slid the pad of his thumb through the wolf's tip. "Hnngg..." strained now as he forced the shaker back over into Levi's nostrils.

"EH-TSHU!" this one rocked his body forward, eyes watering and tears starting to streak down his face, the tip of his nose cherry red, and his hand stuttering in his strokes as they got faster but sloppier. "Please.....TsHO...."Another, smaller sneeze. Emerald orbs disappeared through the back of Remi's skull as the hand on his cock twitched under Levi's skilled but nonmetrical fingers that worked to squeeze and pump him.

"Little more, kitten," he gasped low, guttural, deep from within his throat, Levi's own eyes rolled back from heated pleasure. They were rutting and rubbing up against each other in an animalistic, heated fashion, complete desperation for the both of them in this moment, who knows or cares if Bill was even still out there waiting. They were lost in this moment. The cat glanced to the side up at the light shining from the ceiling and it triggered one last...

"ACHOOO~" Levi's hand clasped tightly around his lover's leaking member, between the pressure of that and the sound of his mate's last big sneeze, he came, hard into's Levi's hand and down his shiny black leather pants, which would be a crime if Levi had the concentration to care. As he was still absolutely wasted off lust from being completely used in this fancy restroom. Remi, coming down from the high of his orgasm slumped lazily against the wall and his partner, catching his breath and trying to find the capacity to have logical thought once again.

Both of the men took a minute to cool off, to breathe. However, once Remi was recouped he had Levi tugging at his coat. "You're just going to use me, mess me up and leave me like this?" whining gently followed by a pouty lip as he pointed down to his own throbbing issue, and the spooge on his pants.

"Oh...Baby," Remi pouted back in a gentle tone that immediately changed into a devilish grin. "Yes I am," sticking his tongue out like the evil revenge master he was. "That'll teach you to rile me up like that in PUBLIC during important meetings,"

"I-...Bu--t....I-...Yo-..." He stuttered standing there flabbergasted as he fluttered back and forth.

"Bless you," he kissed the dumbfounded man on the sweaty forehead, before fixing his pants, buckle, and stepping out confidently. Leaving his partner behind to clean himself up and to maybe reconsider messing with a wolf.

[thescarletwriter-414]

Thank you for taking care of me

Summary: Reader is having a terrible period and Steve takes care of you.

Warnings-talks of periods and period pain, afab reader. I think that’s it but if I missed something let me know

I was having one of the worst periods of my life a few weeks ago so I wrote this. Hope you enjoy :)

Word count: 1300

You had been laying on your and Steve's couch unable to get up. You’d been in the same position since you got home after your boss sent you home from work, due to the stabbing period cramps you had been dealing with all day. 

Your periods usually always sucked, but this was the period from absolute hell. Even your boss noticed. You had never been more thankful for having an understanding boss. 

You kept doubling over in pain from the cramps, not being able to hide the pain you were in.  After the third or fourth time your boss asked what was wrong and you told him. “It’s just my period, I-” He stopped you right away, “Ah, I don’t need to hear the details, just take the rest of the day.” You tried to tell him you’d be fine, but he quickly dismissed your protests and gave you the look that told you he wasn't buying your bullshit. “It’s not a request.” You sighed, but quickly thanked him and went to the back of the store to grab your stuff. 

“Do you want me to call that boyfriend of yours to come and pick you up?” You smile at the mention of Steve. “No, it’s okay.” You told him as you tugged your jacket on. “The walk might do me good.” 

It didn’t do shit, but you at least got some fresh air. 

When you got home you called Family Video right away to tell Steve he wouldn’t have to pick you up. You usually always got off work after him on Thursdays, so he’d swing by the record store you worked at and pick you up. 

The phone only rang twice before you heard Robin’s raspy voice on the other end. “This is Family Video; how can I help you?” 

“Hey rob, it’s me.” 

“Oh, hey y/n/n. What’s up?” 

“Will you tell Steve he doesn’t have to pick me up tonight?” 

“For sure. Is everything okay?” from the tone of her voice you could tell your anxiety riddled friend was worried. 

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just having a really bad period day.” 

“Okay, I'll relay the message to your boy toy. Feel better y/n/n.” 

“Thanks rob.” 

You then plopped yourself face down onto the soft cushions of your and Steve’s couch. You stared at the blank tv screen unable to muster up the energy to get up and turn it on. 

You must have dozed off at some point because you woke up to a very pretty man crouched down in front of you, petting your hair. Even with your half-lidded eyes you could tell he was freaking out at your state. 

You also hardly ever took naps, so coming home and finding you asleep at 5;30 definitely worried him. 

"Baby, what happened?" His hand fell from your head as you sat up, rubbing the sleep from your eyes. "Robin told me you came home early from work." he got up from his crouched position in front of you and moved to sit next to you, immediately reaching for your hand. "Are you sick or something?" 

You smiled at me sleepily. "No, I'm okay baby." 

"Well you're obviously not okay, baby just tell me what's going on." He says, reaching out and cupping your check with his left hand, pulling you to face him and slowly stroking the soft skin of your cheek with his thumb. 

"I'm just on my period." You tried to reassure him. "I was having really bad cramps all afternoon, so Tony sent me home." 

"Oh baby I'm sorry." He looked genuinely heartbroken at the fact you didn't feel good. 

"It's okay Stevie I prom- " You doubled over in pain. Whoever it was that was using your uterus as a stress ball decided that was the perfect moment to interrupt you.

Steve arms reaching out immediately, his nerves jumping through the roof. He hated seeing you in pain. 

“Baby?” His voice had a slight shakiness to it. You mustered your best smile, trying to reassure him. 

“I’m good.” 

“You are in no way ‘good’” His hands rub up and down your back until the cramp subsides a little. 

You slump back into the couch, Steve moving to lay next to you. His hands traveled down to rub your tummy. You put your hands on top of his and press down. Steve got the message right away and pressed his hands onto your stomach, the pressure bringing some relief to your aching stomach. Steve had done this for you before. You get cramps with every period, so at least once a month you and your loving boyfriend lay together with his warm hands putting pressure on your lower abdomen. 

“Is there anything I can do for you?” He looks so sad. He knows you’re okay, it’s just your period, you’re not dying he has to remind himself. But it hurts him so bad seeing you in pain. 

“I could go for some mint chip ice cream.” 

“You got it.” He shoots up from the couch and jogs over to the freezer looking for both of your favorite snack. But there was none left. 

He walks back over to the couch. “We’re out, but it’s okay cause I’m gonna run to the store to grab some and maybe burgers and fries. Does that sound good for dinner?” 

You smile at him, your first genuine smile of the day. He always knew exactly what to do to make you feel better. “Yeah, that sounds perfect.”

“Cool.” he grabs his keys and wallet off the coffee table then leans over you to give you a kiss. Your hands grab the side of his face pulling him in closer to you. “I’ll be right back okay.” he tells you, trying to pull away, but you grab at the front of his shirt and pull him back down and give him another deeper kiss. “Baby, you gotta let go if you want ice cream.” he giggles, prying his lips from yours and smiling down at you. 

“But I don't want you to leave me.” you pout, still not letting go of him. 

Smirking at you, he asks. “Do you wanna go with me?” 

“Yes, but I don’t want to get up.” 

Without missing a beat, he scooped you up into his arms. “You don’t have to.” You wrap your around his neck snuggling your head into his chest. You let out a content sigh. God, you loved this man. 

He carried you outside and placed you gently into the passenger seat of the car. 

You waited while he ran into the store then you got the promised burgers and extra-large fry on the drive back home.

Plopping back onto the couch with a handful of fries you watch Steve rummage through your vhs’s looking for a movie to put on. You didn’t ask him too; you didn’t say a word in fact. He just knew you and knew what you needed. 

He popped it in and sat on the couch pulling you into his chest, you both facing the tv watching the opening credits play. 

His left hand wrapped around your waist and his right moved to rub your tummy. You felt his shoulder nudge you and you turned to face him. His mouth hung open waiting for you to feed him some fries. A smile grew on your face as you stared at him with such adoration and love in your eyes. 

He catches you staring and blushes. “What? Do I have ketchup on my face or something?” 

“No.” you giggle. “I just love you so much.” he blushes even harder. “I love you too.” 

You lean up kissing him gently. “Thank you for taking care of me.” you say pulling away. 

“Of course.” he smiles back at you. “I mean it is one of the job requirements,” he jokes. 

“Oh really. And what exactly is the job?” you ask. 

“Being your soulmate.” 

You smile again then wince, another cramp hitting you hard. He pulls you closer into him, kissing the top of your head. “I got you baby.” 

Your heart feels so happy despite being in pain. This boy loves you so much, and you’ll never understand why he picked you, but you were so glad he did. 

[xxmolls]

Since I’m posting a lot of PJ Harvey tonight, I’ll share one of my PJ Harvey covers.

I recorded this in 2011. I was 21 years old and incredibly sick with (at the time) an unexplainable illness.

My Tourette’s had increased greatly in severity. In addition to my tics, I was having full body pseudo - seizures. My constant uncontrollable movements made it very hard for me to function.

I also had a bad “foot stomping” tic. I would stomp my feet so hard and so frequently, my doctors were afraid I was going to shatter my feet and leg bones so they insisted I not walk or stand anymore.

I found it very hard to communicate with my constant vocal and breathing tics, so I didn’t speak much.

I had just decided to leave college after my junior year to focus on my health. I was spending my days and nights living in my parents’ basement, often lying on a bare mattress (my tics made it impossible to keep a sheet or blankets on).

I was in terrible physical pain. I would often cry out for help, the pain was so bad, but my family would assume it was a vocal tic, and they wouldn’t come.

I often went to bed in such unbearable pain that I had the absolute certainty that I was going to die in my sleep, and there was nothing I could do about it. I wrote goodbye notes to my loved ones for them to find on my phone.

The bright side of my weird illness was that my uncontrollable movements seemed to lessen when I would sing and play guitar. I also noticed I may have trouble speaking coherently, but I could sing words just fine.

I had a Mac laptop with garage band on it that was my lifeline. I would spend hours in my parents’ basement, often in the middle of the night, recording songs on GarageBand. In that time, I got really into figuring out arrangements of my original songs as well as my favorite songs that other people had written.

I would start with a basic guitar and vocal track, then I would overdub vocal harmonies as well as any random instruments I had sitting around the house.

For one particular song I recorded, I sent my mom out to Walmart at 8 am (after I had been up all night writing music) to get a child’s xylophone that I was CERTAIN would be the perfect addition to a song I was working on.

Oddly enough, despite my entire body falling apart, I think during the worst years of my illness my voice and guitar playing were the best they’d ever been, just because I was using them so much.

2011 was also the year I got into PJ Harvey.

I had formative memories of when her album “Stories from the City…” came out. I was 11 years old and my dad constantly played the record at home.

My favorite songs were “This is Love” and “Big Exit.” I freaked out some of my middle school teachers by singing the lyrics to “Big Exit” in front of them and declaring it my favorite song. I loved how dark the song was (even at 11 I loved some dark shit), but I didn’t realize just how dark and upsetting the lyrics were (if you have not heard the song, it’s about suicide).

In 2011, PJ Harvey came back into my life when she released her album “Let England Shake.” I was obsessed with that album. I pored over the lyrics, analyzing them and looking up different WWI events they referenced.

I fell in love with the autoharp because of that album and immediately went out to buy one at a local pawn shop.

I began to dig deep through PJ Harvey’s entire discography, collecting things like my favorite acoustic live performances of songs, and my favorite b-sides.

On the day I recorded this specific cover, I had just gotten her album “White Chalk.”

About 15 minutes before I recorded this cover of the title song, I heard it for the first time. I was instantly entranced, as well as inspired.

The original version is mostly piano based, but I wanted to figure out a good acoustic guitar version.

I had been favoring playing my 2nd guitar: a Gibson J-45 from 1993. It sounded more tin-ny when plugged in, but acoustically it had such a rich, warm sound.

I pulled it out and quickly figured out the chords and a good finger picking style for the song.

I clearly did not know the words. The melody was instantly stuck in my head, but I have always had trouble remembering lyrics. Since 15 minutes before was the first time I had ever heard the song, I pulled up a safari tab on my laptop and had the lyrics in front of me while I was recording.

I still clearly messed up some of the lyrics. You will definitely notice that if you know the original song.

I had fun adding background vocals in different places, though the song didn’t need much.

I also noticed that on the original track, there’s a lot of delay (I think is the term) so the vocals kind of echo. I added that to mine too (and of course reverb as usual. I was never very light on the reverb when recording demos).

I am pretty pleased with the result. I like the arrangement and the quirky lil effects. It also brings me back to those almost manic days of creativity. The Lyme disease was definitely “eating my brain” at the time (those spirochete bastards easily cross the blood brain barrier), so who knows how much of this recording is hypomania driven.

It gave me a break from my suffering, though, and for that I am grateful.

[our-flag-means-love]

welcome back to elliot's autistic-about-music corner.

here's a comprehensive list of boygenius lyrics that have been helping me get through this bc goddamnit i need anything rn.

"$20":

it's a bad idea and i'm all about it / give it one more chance and then i finally had it

the renewal efforts, obviously. it's a hail mary but it's our one chance.

mama told me that it don't run on wishes, but that i should have fun / pushing the flowers that come up into the front of a shotgun

poison into positivity. weaponizing our ability to be polite menaces and our ability to have hope.

may i please have twenty dollars / can you give me twenty dollars / i know you have twenty dollars / i know you have twenty dollars!

me @ zaslav. especially the screamed one.

"emily i'm sorry":

this one's extremely personal to me so i'm not highlighting anything specific but just know that it's this whole song.

"true blue":

you already hurt my feelings three times / in the way only you could

the ending of s1, the wait for s2 renewal, the cancellation.

i remember who i am when i'm with you / your love is tough, your love is tried and true blue

the fandom <3 we persist.

you've never done me wrong / except for that one time that we don't talk about / because it doesn't matter anymore

me if it gets renewed for s3.

(continued under the cut)

"not strong enough":

i tried, i can't / stop staring at the ceiling fan and / spinning out about things that haven't happened / breathing in and out

bro i am so anxious about this whole thing bro.

"revolution 0":

i just wanna know / who broke your nose / figure out where they live / so i can kick their teeth in

the broken nose is the cancellation and this is me @ zaslav again.

"leonard cohen":

leonard cohen once said / "there's a crack in everything, that's how the light gets in" / and i am not an old man having an existential crisis / at a buddhist monastery, writing horny poetry / but i agree

we have hope. we have a chance. the light can get in.

"satanist":

mortgage off your soul to buy a dream

what it feels like we're doing right now lol.

will you be an anarchist with me / sleep in cars and kill the bourgeoisie

once again, with feeling: fuck zaslav!

"we're in love":

(first of all, i would be remiss in not shamelessly promoting my fav fic i wrote last year here.)

you could absolutely break my heart / that's how i know that we're in love

cannot convey how much the cancellation news broke me. that's because i'm in love with this show.

some october in the future / i'll run out of trash TV / and i'll be feeling lonely

no matter what happens, this show will end, and when it does, i'll miss it dearly.

damn, that makes me sad / it doesn't have to be like that / if you rewrite your life, may i still play a part?

this whole thing.

"anti-curse":

well uhh really it's this entire song so just go listen to this song and yeah it's all of the lyrics. i will highlight this one tho:

writing the words / to the worst love song you've ever heard / sounding out the foreign characters / an incantation like an anti-curse / or even a blessing

all of the letter writing, emailing, commenting.

"letter to an old poet":

you're not special, you're evil / you don't get to tell me to calm down

me @ max/wbd.

when you fell down the stairs / it looked like it hurt and i wasn't sorry

max/wbd taking Ls left and right.

i can't feel it yet / but i am waiting

hope.

"afraid of heights":

i kid you not, the day the news dropped i listened to this song like 20x on repeat during my 2 hour work shift bc nothing else was helping.

i replied / "i don't wanna live forever / but i don't wanna die tonight"

we're not going down without a fight.

if they ever catch you at it / i know you'd want me to be proud / that you took a rich man's dream / and brought it with you on your way down

fuck zaslav!!!!!

how it hurts to hope / oh, it hurts to hope for more / oh, it hurts to hope the future will be better than before

fuck, lucy, it sure does.

[bananami]

flirting with the clone troopers

I got bored and wrote a thing. Please enjoy my short little drabble on what flirting with the clone troopers would be like. It’s trash but it’s my trash <3

masterlist

tagged: @morganas-pendragons​​, @daylightanakin​

Obi-Wan had playfully labeled you a menace to the GAR. You didn’t blame him, but you wanted to throw it back in his face that he was just as bad as you were. The only difference was that you seemed unable to differentiate when it was entirely appropriate to be the outright flirt that you were.

In front of the other Generals in the middle of a briefing? Perfect time to tell Commander Neyo how great his thighs looked in that kama.

On the field in the heat of battle watching troopers toss spears literally through people? “Well now Captain Rex, what mighty strong arms you have.” *wink wink nudge nudge*

One time you and Commander Fox had been force thrown across a room only for you to land on top of him and it just slipped out naturally: “you know, all the times I’ve thought about being in this exact position with you, I never imagined it starting out like this.” He plays off the choking sound he makes as being injured from the hit you two just took.

Domino Squad are by far the most fun to flirt with because they don’t hesitate in the slightest to flirt right back.

Fives has got to be the worst of them all.

Seriously he has zero game but all the confidence of a man who does.

You absolutely love it.

Even when you’re injured and Kix is trying to stitch you up you can’t seem to hold yourself back.

“Alright General, lay down and let me work my magic-” “Kix, how unprofessional of you! And right here, in front of the others?” Anakin has never facepalmed so hard in his life. Kix’s face has never looked so red. You’ve never laughed so hard. It gets worse.

“I- ugh- you’re gonna need to- I need-” “Use your words Kix, c’mon man I’m bleeding out here.” That was a lie, but the gash on the inside of your thigh was pretty gross looking. “I need to be in between your legs.” You comply with ease and put on a shit-eating grin. “I hope you know I’ve dreamt about you saying those exact words- OW, Kix be gentle!”

The responses you get from the clones vary. Some of them openly flirt back, others get extremely flustered which is sweet to watch.

One time you were at 79’s hanging out with the 212th when some of the newer troopers walked in with the 501st and you couldn’t restrain yourself from sauntering on over. “How’s your night going boys, why don’t you introduce me to the shinies?”

Fives smirks and throws Tup into the deep end on this one. You reach up and tug at the troopers long hair just slightly, which makes him blush hardcore. “Go easy on him, love, you’re gonna give the poor guy a heart attack.” “I promise I’ll be gentle. Unless of course you ask me not to be.” Fives rolls his eyes and tells Tup not to take you too seriously and that you’re like this with all the troopers.

He was right, of course.

Some of them genuinely make your heart melt though.

For instance, Echo is a sweetheart. It doesn’t matter what you throw at him.

“Well now, don’t you look handsome in your new arc trooper armor.” “Nothing compared to how gorgeous you look every day, darling.”

“Keep saying things like that and you’re gonna make me fall in love, Echo.” “I could never be worthy of you, beautiful.”

And some, like Jesse, are just too smooth. It's genuinely impressive.

“What’s cooking good looking?” “Me for you tonight, what do you say doll?” “Please, you couldn’t handle me.” “Babe, I don’t think anyone could, doesn’t mean I wouldn’t want to try.” You nearly blushed at that one.

One time you fell over and he caught you before you could hit the ground and both you minds went to the same place. “Falling for me, cyare?” “What can I say, you’ve got me all tripped up.”

Some of them even surprised you.

Like Crosshair, from the self proclaimed bad batch. Who during a mission actually gave you a run for your credits.

“How am I looking from up there, Cross?” “Oh, just stunning, love.” “Even all sweaty and gross from fighting all these clankers?” “You kidding? I think you look better than ever like this.” “Well aren’t you just such a flirt.” A shot rings next to your ear, the droid behind you falling to the ground before it could get to you. “Pot. Kettle.”

Master Windu never failed to remind you of how inappropriate it was for you to say such things in public. Master Yoda and Plo just laughed.

Secretly Master Plo was hoping one day Wolffe would work up the nerve to do anything but stutter an incomprehensible response but the clone commander was a wreck the second you open your mouth.

Seriously Wolffe cannot flirt, he has no idea what to do or say back.  It’s adorable.

Like the time you asked him “is this seat taken?” and pointed at his lap with a sly smirk on your face. He wanted to make a witty comment back but all that came out was “wha-huh-uhm-” and you just chuckled, telling him you were just joking before sitting down next to him.

Master Plo had to step out of the room to laugh for a minute.

Sometimes you were stationed to protect the Chancellor which meant spending a lot of time with the Coruscant Guard. They were relentless in their flirtations, by far the most charming clones you’d ever met. Even Commander Fox had his moments, when he wasn’t being so serious.

Hound was probably the worst of the worst. He had you laughing so hard you at times that it physically hurt.

At one point you’d been reamed out by the Chancellor and retreated into your head. Hound noticed, and with the most serious expression, took your face in between his hands and in the most serious voice he could muster said: “I will kill him for you my sweet angel, just give me the word.”

Fox’s eyes widen and he’s got a playful glare on his face, not as upset at that statement as you thought he’d be, “Hound, you can’t -”

Hound’s eyes don’t leave yours, “I’ll kill him too.”

“hOUND”

And lets not get started on when you and Obi-Wan were sent on missions together.

“Cody, darling, you wouldn’t happen to have the time would you?”

“Cody, sweetheart, you’re doing such a wonderful job at killing those clankers!”

“Cody, love, your butt looks fantastic in that armor-”

“You can’t just say that over public comms!”

“You were thinking it, I was just saying it out loud, Obi-Wan!”

And you’re all time favorite: “Cody, that armor looks great on you, you know where it would look better? On the floor of Obi-Wan’s room.” “Are you hitting on Cody for me?”

Some of the clones had even placed bets and wagers on who could get you to slip up and become flustered.

You definitely appreciated the attempts.

Some of them had definitely come close though.

Like Commander Doom, who you danced with at 79s one night and had to run into the bathroom to splash some water on your face because holy kriff where did that man learn that kind of language. It was actually kind of impressive. And no you would absolutely not be repeating it to anyone except maybe to Obi-Wan over tea the next day in the confines of his room where no one else could hear either of you gossiping.

Or Sergeant Hunter of the 99th, who met your quips line for line. You didn’t know how but you were pretty sure he knew exactly what to say to make you almost blush.

“You can’t just take out an entire battalion of clankers on your own and not expect me to fall in love with you.” “That’s the goal, Sarge. How’d you know I was just trying to impress you?” “Call it a sixth sense.” “You think the force is trying to tell us something?” “I don’t need to force to tell me how irresistible you are.” “Be still my beating heart.”

And as much as it irritated the other General’s of the GAR, the clones genuinely appreciated the sense of normalcy it gave them. Sure it was all jokes but most spent so much time fighting that the brief moments of flirtation were a distraction from the shit show going on around them.

And besides, it wasn’t your fault they were so damn good looking.

[erodasfishtacos]

The Brits Dilemma

” Prompt: Harry & Y/N go to the Brits. It’s the first time they’ve been away from their baby. Y/N is struggling but doesn’t want to ruin the night for her husband.

Word Count: 1.8 k +

Warnings: Depictions of breastfeeding

+++++++

The award show was going well. It was the first time Y/N had been out in nearly three months besides a few brunch dates and grocery shopping.

Usually, she was pretty confident in what she wore to accompany her husband to all of these flashy events - but not tonight.

Her bump had deflated but she was still attempting to get rid of the stubborn pouch that stayed after the baby had been born. It wasn’t anything out of the norm - just still trying to lose it.

She was breastfeeding and her breasts were much larger than before. They felt heavy and too big for her body. Not to mention, they were constantly swollen and achey. Pads were a must so she doesn’t leak through the tight satin black dress.

The dress was a beautiful custom design by Gucci that complimented Harry’s sharp suit but nothing felt right. It was digging into her sides and made it hard for her to sit on her chair.

The Brits were held in the O2 Arena which wasn’t very far from their London home but she felt like she was lightyears away from her baby. Even though she knew Sasha was in good hands with Anne.

Y/N was so proud of Harry for being up for five - yes, five different awards. It was a record for him and she didn’t want to let him down by complaining. It was his night. He’s been such a devote father - he deserved a break too.

So she swallowed down the anxiety she was feeling about being away from their little newborn for the night along with her worries about her changing body.

There was milling about between the tables before the show got started. Harry had people coming up him constantly - congratulating him on the album, the nominations, the baby.

Married life and fatherhood suited him well. A dazzling wedding band on his left ring finger, a necklace with an S for his daughter, along with her name freshly inked on right above his butterfly tattoo.

The open jacket he wore with is his barely buttoned dress shirt displayed it proudly. It was beautiful, done delicately in a timeless cursive. The font match his wife name that was tattooed on his hand.

He couldn’t lie and say he wasn’t excited to have a night out with his wife. He had Jeff booked a hotel for the night to have some alone time with you while his mum got to enjoy a night with her only grandchild.

Y/N was counting down the hours up until tomorrow when she could go home to see her baby. She should really tell Harry that she wants to go home and not out to a club and the hotel.

But the it just slowly starts to deteriorate further when a bald, plump business exec comes to greet the two of you. He gives his warm wishes about the birth of your child before smiling at Y/N and stating, “The baby weight will come off soon enough.”

Her throat closes up a bit and she self-consciously tries to push her chair closer to the table. It was the last thing that she needed to hear. Confirming all of her worst insecurities.

Harry glares at the man before turning to his wife, “Hey, you look s’perfect, my love. I’m so bloody lucky you’re mine.”

He’s truly trying his hardest to bring a smile to her face but he notices it’s never quite meeting her eyes. 

It get even worse when Harry gets his first award, male solo artist of the year. 

As she’s standing and clapping for him - she realizes she’s beginning to leak through her nipple inserts.

Y/N excuses herself in the middle of his acceptance speech to rush through the string of tables - out into the corridor. The last thing she wanted to do was for it to show up on a very expensive dress.

The echo of his voice can still be heard, “Love to thank my beautiful wife who makes writing sappy love songs easy and was the main inspiration for my recent album. She also just gave birth to our beautiful baby.....”

She feels awful when she tunes him out, finding the bathroom and hurriedly rushing in. There’s a gorgeous woman standing at the sink, washing their hands. 

Fucking Taylor Swift.

Any other time it’d be awkward and uncomfortable - running into an ex who wrote multiple songs about her husband.

But she couldn’t careless right now, “Hi, erm, this is really weird but could you unzip my dress? I’m leaking and - shit that was way too much information.”

But Taylor smiles kindly, “No! It’s okay, totally. No worries. Congratulations on your baby - you look so hot tonight.”

Y/N laughs and thanks her for unzipping the dress before going into a stall and locking the door. She slides her bra straps off her shoulders and disposes of the soaked pad in the sanitary bin.

Luckily, she has a clean burp rag that she gently swipes at her breast - wincing as it brushes against her swollen nipples. Even the soft fabric felt too rough on them.

It’s a minute or two before the bathroom door swings open, “Y/N? Lovie? Are you in ‘ere?”

She feels guilt at the panic in his voice. Managing to croak out, “I’m in here,” before leaning forward to unlock the door.

Harry waste no time in sliding into the stall before latching the lock again. Taking in the sight of his wife in front of him.

“I-I started leaking, M’sorry,” Y/N whispers, she has no reason to feel embarrassed but she is. “I missed your speech.”

“None of that, baby. I’ll give more speeches for you to hear - I only care that you’re okay. I’m sorry y’leakin, lemme help you, pet.”

In true Harry fashion, he takes the rag and turns on the sink - running it under warm water before carefully cleaning his wife up.

“Are they botherin’ you? They look irritated and super swollen, darling,” Harry frowns, a very gentle thumb coming to brush against her nipple. Then cupping her swollen breast in his hand, thumb rubbing at the pink skin.

“Just a little bit,” She lies, they’re absolutely on fire with chafing and skin irritation from the bra she’s wearing. She never thought she’d miss her nursing bras and sports bras this much.

He nods and helps place new inserts in her bra. Who’d think this is what Harry would be doing between accepting awards. Everyone unassuming in the arena.

**

Harry has been four for four thus far into the ceremony. They’d only had him go up and give two acceptance speeches. His hand firmly planted on his wife’s thigh throughout. 

When he went up for his second award, the camera zooms in and the crowd coos are he plants a kiss on his wife’s lips before pulling her into a hug - whispering something into her ear the audience can’t hear.

He was much more focused on his wife. He could read her fairly well - he’d like to think. Enough to know she’s having much fun. But he didn’t want to bring it up and make her feel bad.

Harry sees the way she keeps adjusting her bra, fidgets with his rings when his hands in his lap, and not even really looking up while one of her favorite artist - Dua Lipa -performs.

Y/N loved a good party before the baby. So Harry was hoping going to the Brits afterparty would make her feel better and then going back to their hotel room for a some alone time.

**

Y/N has been increasingly quiet when they’re exiting the arena after the final award artist of the year - which Harry had also won.

He was on cloud nine and admittedly a little distracted as he joked and laughed with a small group of friends on the way out. 

“Alright, should we all just pile into a cab for the ride to the party?” Nick Grimshaw asks everyone.

Everyone is in agreement - including Harry -as he calls to order one - standing in the blocked off area away from fans and paparazzi.

Y/N wants to tell him she wants to go home to Sasha but when she hears him say, “Can’t wait to get to Exhibit - haven’t been there in forever. One of my favorite clubs.”

She bites her tongue. Harry is enjoying his night out - why can’t she?

In the taxi, she’s sat on Harry’s lap as they make their way to the club. His one hand is on her inner thigh and the other is on her waist holding her steady.

In the morning, she’ll blame her post-partum hormones and anxiety. But she doesn’t even realizing her eyes are filling with tears and when she blinks they spill down her face.

She wouldn’t feel as embarrassed if she wasn’t in the car full of literal celebrities who are filled with adrenaline and excitement. Chattering and drinking from little liquor bottles they’d snuck in their jackets and clutches.

“Y/N, are you alright?” Rita Ora asks from her seat - noticing the streaks ruining your makeup.

She nods pathetically, wiping at her eyes but Harry is turning her to face him. His bright green eyes filled with concern as he studies her face.

The previously very obnoxiously loud cab becomes silent as they try to give the couple a semblance of non-existent privacy.

“What’s happening, dove? Are you hurting?” Harry panics, coming to wipe the smeared makeup away.

“I don’t want to go to the club,” Y/N sniffles, squeezing her eyes shut at how embarrassed she is of her behavior. She would usually never act this way - especially in public. And Harry knows that so it makes him even more concerned.

“That’s okay, pet. We can go have a night in, when the cab stops - we can uber back to the hotel,” Harry soothes, surprised when that brings on fresh tears.

“N-no, I want to go home. I miss the baby, I want to- need to see our baby. I-I can’t do this. My anxiety is through the roof, Harry. What if she can’t sleep? Or isn’t taking the bottle?”

“Baby, breathe, breathe. We can go home. I miss the bub terribly too. Have been worried about her all night.”

Harry tugs his wife into his chest further - tucking her head into his neck as he shoots his friends grateful looks. They all nod, sympathetic and understanding - despite them not having kids of their own.

**

“I ruined your night,” Y/N says softly in the back of the uber home. “I leaked during the show; cried in front of all your friends.”

Harry takes her chin gentle but firm until she meets his gaze, “You didn’t ruin anything f’me. All I care about is you and the baby - not some stupid award ceremony or party.”

He continues on, “You just gave us Sasha three months ago - y’bloody amazing. Best mum, best wife. Sexiest too - know you don’t think that right now but your body literally grew my baby. I get a hard-on everytime I see you.”

They both laugh, Y/N leaning forward to capture her husbands lips in a meaningful kiss of gratitude and thanks.

**

Anne smiles kindly when the two of them arrive home. A very fussy, red-faced swaddled baby coddled in her arms. 

“She hasn’t settled for quite a while now - she missed her parents very much,” Harry’s mum tells them, transferring her into her father’s arms. He’s automatically rocking and running his thumb over her cheek.

“Ooh, we missed you. Was Nana nice to you?” Harry coos. Sasha has already quieted and is blinking tearfully up at her smiling father.

“Such a good girl, best girl,” Y/N sighs, leaning in to kiss her downy hair. Harry’s hand coming to wrap around his wife’s waist as they peer down at their perfect little daughter.

Anne smiles at his son and daughter-in-law fawning over their little creation with so much love and adoration.

After a minute of chatting -Harry’s mum makes her way up to the guest room after a long night with a miserable baby. They make their way to their room where Y/N strips out of her tight dress and awful bra. 

She sits against the headboard in just a pair of soft cotton panties. Harry is gently shushing her and humming a melody as his wife gets situated. He knew she was anxious to feed the baby.

“That’s it my sweet thing. Y’missed us, hm? We missed you too, bub. Nana said y’wouldn’t take the bottle. Only want your mumma, hmm?” Harry coos, kissing her chubby cheeks.

He’s then giving Y/N the baby, who ferociously latching within seconds and begins eating like she’d been starved for the last week. Making weak little rumbles as she does so.

They both giggle fondly, Y/Ns fingers come to touch her fluttering cheek - memorizing her over and over again.

Harry gets onto the bed and settles next to the both of them. Watching his baby feed in amazement at what his wife was capable of. He smears a few kisses against her bare shoulder - hand on his baby’s back.

How strong she was - as he knew it had to be at least a little bit painful with how irritated her nipples had been. He can tell when she winces every once in a while.

He plants a few more kisses to her warm skin - noticing her eyes getting a bit droopy as Sasha feeds at a slow, suckling pace.

“If I’m being honest, being with you - watching you feed our baby...I’d rather be here than at any club.” 

Y/N snorts, rolling her eyes, “Sure.”

Her husband frowns, “M’serious, this is all I need, baby.”

“I love you, congratulation on all your Brits,” Y/N murmurs, pecking at his lips.

“I love you too. I meant it, during my speeches. I wouldn’t have been able to write those songs if you hadn’t inspired me. You’ll and the bab will always be the best muse.”

[wrenqueenisboss]

DSMP Angsty Imagines - React to Your Death pt. 1 --- George

Part 1 to my series of “dsmp boys react to your death”:  Pronouns used: they/them (if mentioned) Warnings: cursing, death, grief, arguing, yelling, panic, weapons Words: 1.2+

The list: 

c!George - (you are currently on this post)  c!Bench Trio (platonic) - (coming soon!) c!Wilbur - (coming soon!) c!Dream - (coming soon!)  c!Technoblade - (coming soon!) 

George was finally done with the fighting. So much warfare, so much death and destruction. It was too much. Even his former best friends, Dream and Sapnap had been swept up into the chaos. Well, Dream had actually been the cause of a lot of the deaths. 

George Not-Found was done with the fighting, though. He wanted to keep you, the love of his life, safe. For so long, you had been begging him to move out of the SMP lands and live in the unoccupied lands outside of normal civilization. Your boyfriend hated the idea of leaving.

“All of my friends are here!” He’d protest. “George, all of your friends are either dead or criminals!” You couldn’t stop yourself from shouting back. It was true. Sapnap’s whereabouts remains ambiguous but Dream’s were well known. He had been locked in Pandora’s Vault. The notorious prison, made of mostly obsidian and Blackstone, was built with a seemingly immeasurable amount of traps. And yet, people still feared Dream’s escape.

George knew his former best friend was too far gone, but he hated it. He hated knowing the person he thought would be there through everything, was gone; had left for his own selfish gain.

Your shoulders slumped when you saw your boyfriend’s lip start to quiver. “George... I’m sorry. But I really do think we should move. It’s not safe here anymore.”

He took a deep breath and nodded. “Okay, we’ll move.”

That was three months ago. Now, the two of you were living happily alone in your cottage. The two of you built it together and it was perfect. It surely wasn’t the biggest or most impressive dwelling on the whole server, but it was charming and suited both of your needs quite nicely.

“George, my love, I’m going to collect berries for breakfast. I’ll be back soon,” you announced, collecting your gear. You walked over to where your - now fiancé - was napping on the couch.

You scoffed playfully at his sleeping form, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips. Grabbing a random pen and post-it note off the coffee table, you wrote a note. The note explained where you were going, why, and when you expected to be back.

“I love you, George. Sleep well.” You added at the bottom with a smile.

Basket for berries swinging on your arm, light cloak on your shoulders, you left your charming house to go collect breakfast. 

You did now realize that it would be the last time you’d see him.

Three hours later...

George Not-Found woke up with a start, tumbling ungracefully off the couch. Rubbing his elbow as he sat up, he looked around the house. It was empty. 

“Y/n? Love?” he called into the empty air. He looked around some more, standing up and walking around.

A note on the table caught his eye. Your handwriting was spread over the small piece of paper. The message scrawled gracefully. “I’ve gone out to gather berries for breakfast,” he read aloud. “I should be back in an hour.” His heart began to drop. “I love you, George. Sleep well.”

His grip on the note went slack and it fluttered to the ground like a leaf. George frantically whipped his head around to look at the clock. It had been three hours since he fell asleep, and you weren’t in the house. Something was wrong.

George grabbed his sword, goggles, and some extra health potions off of the shelf by the door.

But as he closed the front door, a dagger with a note pinned to it stuck into the wood of the door caught his eye. The dagger was familiar, a polished silver handle set with diamonds and emeralds. The handwriting was even more familiar. But it wasn’t yours. It was Dream’s.

He ripped the dagger out of the door to read the note.

“Hey, George.

As you might have guessed by now, Y/n is gone. I’ve taken them. You shouldn’t have betrayed me, George. You knew that wouldn’t end well. Meet with me at the ruins of the community house tonight. Or else.”

George was so shocked. He knew something was wrong, but he really hadn’t expected Dream to be the cause of it. He hadn’t even realized he was on Dream’’s hit list - or list of enemies - to begin with.

~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-

The night was dark as the moon was only half full as George waited for Dream. The ruins of the community house sat still behind him. You could still see the burn marks on the pieces of the house that hadn’t been destroyed.

He was running his hands over a burned piece of wood when a voice made him turn around.

“Hello, George.”

He whipped around. “Dream.” 

The man with the porcelain white mask visibly froze in surprise. He had never heard his former friend this serious before. Honestly, it was kind of terrifying. But the master manipulator pulled himself together.

“You seem thrilled to see me.”

But George wasn’t having it. He only wanted to know where Y/n was. Were they okay? Could he save them?

It was as if Dream could read his mind. 

“You want Y/n.” It wasn’t a question. It was a statement, a fact. Something so obvious it made no sense for Dream to say aloud.

“No shit,” George growled. “Where are they?”

The most wanted man on the server didn’t need to take off his mask for George to know he was smiling cruelly. His heart sank to his stomach, preparing for the worst. And the worst was what he got.

“They’re dead.”

Those two words, and everything seemed to stop. The world went quiet as George tried to take in the news. The words just didn’t seem to absorb into his brain. It made sense. What were you supposed to do upon hearing that the absolute love of your life had died? Just nod and move on with life? Hell no.

“Go, Dream.” George’s voice was hoarse, cracked with grief. 

Dream tried to say something, but he was cut off.

“Just fucking go.”

So Dream left and George was left to process his feelings amongst the ruins alone.

Tears finally began to fall. His knees buckled and he crashed to the ground, bent over on the ground. The torrent of emotions - anger, frustration, grief, emptiness - cascaded over him. 

He let out an earth-shattering scream. His throat burned but his sobs simply couldn’t carry the weight of his grief alone. 

Holding himself in a tight hug as he rocked back and forth, George came to terms with your death. 

You were gone. The love of his life was gone. Dead. Killed. Taken away from him. Your own life ripped away. And all because he hadn’t just agreed with you and moved away earlier, before the fighting and the wars got really bad. 

“I’m sorry, darling.” his voice was carried with the wind. So heartbreaking that even the sky began to cry. The raindrops fell softly, as if they were keeping a vigil.

“You were right. We should have moved earlier. I should have listened. But I didn’t, and now you’re dead.”

He was cut off by his own sob, a wretched sound that echoed slightly off of the burned ruins of the community house.

“I’m so sorry, darling.” He took a shaky breath. “I love you.”

[cherryobx]

𝐋𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐲 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 || 𝐑.𝐂 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

requested?: yes

summary: Rafe finds your diary and all the letters addressed to him.

warnings: language, invasion of privacy (reading someone's diary), tiny bit of fluff in the end

WC: 1.4k

-GIF CREDIT @starkey-babie -

Opening up to people is one of the scariest things in the world for a lot of people. The thought of someone knowing your deepest darkest thoughts makes your stomach turn.

It's not like you didn't want to open up to your boyfriend more. It was that you didn't know how to. How does one just talk about what they really feel? It seemed weird to just bring the topic up over dinner or when golfing. Was there a right time? And was the right time ever going to come?

At the beginning of your relationship with Rafe you started writing letters to him in your diary. You weren’t sure if you were ever going to show them to him but that was the only way you could say what you wanted to say without actually saying it out loud.

For months, as your relationship grew more and more, you kept writing letters addressed to him. You kept your diary so hidden that sometimes you even forgot where you had put it. You didn’t want to risk anyone ever seeing it. Those were your personal thoughts. The ones you’d never want anyone other than yourself to read.

One night, you and Rafe had planned to go out to a party, just to let loose for the night and have fun. You were in such a hurry doing your hair and make-up that you had forgotten your diary on your bedroom table. Literally an open book.

“Babe?” Rafe entered your room without knocking. He never did so. Why would he if there were high chances of seeing you naked or getting dressed.

“In the bathroom,” you yelled, trying not to mess your eyeliner up. You were so close to getting both of the wings to look even.

Usually he would hop onto your bed to wait for you but this time, seeing the open notebook on the table, he was intrigued to sit behind the table. He recognized your handwriting as his eyes scanned the pages in front of him.

“What the fuck?” he quietly mumbled as he started flipping through the pages, seeing his own name on top of many of them. He started reading the most recent one of them all.

Dear Rafe,

It’s our 6 months anniversary today. Wow it really has already been that long. But it’s kind of hard to believe so much time has passed because whenever I’m with you time just stops. It’s like we’re living in our own little bubble at our own pace. And I like that about us. But the thing is, I still don’t know how to really open up to you. I want to tell you how beautiful you look when you first wake up, messy hair and morning voice and all. I want to tell you that hearing your laugh makes me instantly happy. I want to tell you that when you look at me I go weak in the knees. I want to tell you that your smile is my favourite thing in the whole world. I want to tell you how much better you make my life, how I care about you more than anyone else. I want to tell you how happy you really make me. I want to tell you how much I really love you. I want to tell you so many things but it’s like my mind just goes blank whenever I try to do that. I feel like I should be able to do that. But why can’t I? It’s keeping me up at night. Maybe one day I’ll be able to tell you all of this. Hopefully before it’s too late. I love you, Rafe, much more than you’ll ever know.

Yours truly,

Y/N

“Do you really go weak in the knees when I look at you?” he asked, a small smirk on his lips.

Your eyes widened in horror. The eyeliner in your hands fell into the sink, drawing a few black lines onto the white ceramic.

Slowly, you walked out of the bathroom. Your heart was beating so fast it was about to give out. When he said those words, you knew exactly where he had gotten them from. Your mind was running a million miles an hour, all of the worst case scenarios popping up.

He sat on your chair, feet up on the table and your diary in his hands.

For a moment you were absolutely speechless, you didn’t know how to react. This is exactly what you had been trying to avoid all this time. And now it was all happening.

“What the fuck, Rafe?” your voice barely a whisper, tears already forming in your eyes.

Then you screamed. “What the fuck?”

He winced at the tone and loudness of your voice.

“Why would you do that, Rafe. That’s personal. You have no right to just read someone else’s diary. What the fuck is wrong with you?” The tears falling down your cheeks ruined your make-up completely but you didn’t care even a little bit in that moment.

He placed the notebook back on the table and stood up. He tried to hug you but you stepped back.

“Don’t fucking touch me right now!”

The severity of the situation had finally reached him. He had fucked up, majorly. He should’ve never even looked at what you wrote in that notebook.

“Y/N…”

“No, no, no! Shut up! Do you have any idea how wrong of you that was? That was an invasion of privacy. Those are the things that I never want anyone to see. And then you fucking do that shit?”

“But it was just sitting right there and I saw my name. I’m so sorry, Y/N. Please.”

You shook your head in disbelief. “That doesn’t fucking mean you can just read that! Oh my God.”

You felt like your legs were going to give out so you sat onto your bed and hid your face in your hands. He sat beside you but kept his distance. He might’ve acted like an asshole but he still wanted to respect your wishes. Even though he had just read your diary, which had definitely been off-limits.

You both sat there for a few minutes in silence before you spoke up.

“I’m sorry for yelling at you.”

“It’s okay, you had every right to.”

You scooted closer to him and wrapped your arms around his torso, hiding your face in his chest. Cautiously, he wrapped his arms around you as well.

“I’ve never known how to talk about what I feel or what I think. I don’t know, it’s just really hard for me, I guess. When I met you and we started dating, I started writing letters to you. It was the only way for me to get it all out of my system. I never meant to actually send them to you or show them to you.”

You took a break since your voice started quivering. You took a couple of deep breaths in an attempt to calm yourself down.

“And what you did was wrong. It was fucked up. But...the letters were addressed to you so I’m not going to hold it against you. But don’t you ever fucking touch my diary without my permission ever again or it’s gonna be last thing that you do.”

He chuckled lightly and placed a kiss on your forehead. “I promise.”

“Now, how about we stay here tonight and I’ll let you read a few of those letters?” you offered, pulling away just enough to look him in the eyes.

“Are you sure?” He placed his hands on your cheeks as he gently wiped away the tears with his thumbs.

“I mean you already read one so a couple more are not gonna hurt me. Plus, I think you deserve to know how I really feel about you since I haven’t been able to actually tell you.”

“Then okay, sure.”

“And, I promise I’ll try to start saying these things to you in person. It's probably gonna take time for me to completely open up to you like that but I’ll try to get there.”

“And I’ll be here for every step of the way.”

Outer Banks taglist: @taylathornton @jjmaybanksbaby @maybanksslut @dirtytissuebox

Rafe Cameron taglist: @teenwaywardasgardian @canibeoneofthepogues @vintageobx @nehireerdogan @samlovessylvie @noellesideas @tomhardybby @drewstarkeysbitchh @in-my-body-bag

(couldn't tag the crossed out ones for some reason)

[ickle-ronniekins]

forever, i choose you

desc: he’s always been everyone’s second choice, in every aspect of his life. george weasley just wants to be someone’s first.

word count: 3.9k

pairing: george weasley x muggle!reader

warning(s): idk you might cry, i sure did but what else is new. loneliness/discussion of sexual content/idk

A/N: i still have no motivation to write and/or read. and it’s the absolute worst. but i wrote the bulk of this story back in december/the beginning of january, and i figured maybe i’d try and write the ending and publish it and see if it’ll spark any inspiration in me. i’m real, real, real sorry if i haven’t gotten to your fics to read (i’ve got them all saved!) i just don’t know what’s wrong with me atm and it’s THE WORST. also it might evoke more emotion if you listen to this while reading this lil fic. thank you, to all of you, for your support and patience, always.

disclaimer: i do not give consent for my work to be posted on ANY other platform.

Seven-year-old George Weasley watched with wide eyes and a goofy grin as his father twirled his mother in the family space of their normally bustling and loud home. But tonight, the Burrow was quiet. Everyone was already sound asleep, his five brothers and his younger sister. George should be too, but he just couldn’t fall asleep no matter how much he tried. He fidgeted uncomfortably in his sheets and kept groaning, and it wasn’t long before his twin brother Fred threw a few pillows at his face, and eventually, George decided to get up and go for a stroll.

He hid strategically on the staircase so his parents wouldn’t see that he was still wide awake at nearly midnight, and he watched as they swayed lightly to the music emitting from somewhere in the house. It was light as a feather, the music, a small piano tune that echoed through the lower level, its sounds traveling effortlessly up the stairs of the home. Mr. Weasley dipped his wife and Mrs. Weasley giggled like some of the young girls George had seen in the village, kind of a nervous giggle, and he watched her blush. He saw his mother placed her head gently on Mr. Weasley’s chest and they both closed their eyes, and George wondered if they were happy to have a moment of peace without their seven children running around causing mayhem.

He wondered if they danced like this every evening, after everyone had already gone to bed.

George noticed a weird sort of feeling in his chest; he wondered why his heart was hurting. Was it because there was something wrong? But then he realized that wasn’t the case, for the aching in his heart came from his pure desire to find exactly what his mum and dad had -- a love like none other, with seven children, a home with multiple stories, and more treacle tarts than one needs.

He vowed in that moment, as he watched his parents from the staircase and tapped his foot quietly in rhythm with the music, that he’d find love like that one day.

He wanted someone to choose him first, just like his parents chose one another.

He brought his hand to his chest, as if to calm his rapidly beating heart, for the sheer idea of finding a love like theirs filled him with such excitement that he was certain he wouldn’t be able to sleep now. Seven-year-old George Weasley laid in bed, ignoring the soft snores from his twin across the room, his eyes wide with wonder as he dreamt of the woman he’d dance with one day.

Twelve-year-old George Weasley wasn’t ready to date. He was only twelve years old! He much preferred to dream.

He knew when he looked at the girl across from him that she wasn’t the one, lovely as she was. He adjusted his Gryffindor tie and cleared his throat and focused on the Potions assignment in front of him. It wasn’t exactly a date, was it? He was in a Potions lesson with his classmates, and Snape. But when the cute blackhaired Hufflepuff approached him and asked if he’d like to work together on the next of Snape’s ridiculous concoctions, Fred poked his brother in the ribs and winked, as if to say, If you don’t partner up with her, you’re a right prat.

And so George did what he thought was gentlemanly and he said yes. He could tell by the rose pink colour that flooded her cheeks that she was smitten with him, and that she’d asked him to be her partner because she was smitten. And he had to admit, she really was quite cute and very, very kind.. and rather smart for her age as well. And he knew that she’d make some man very, very happy someday. It just wouldn’t be him.

He did what was asked of him. He measured out the correct amount of powdered Griffin claw. He made sure he and his partner had enough salamander blood for their strengthening solution. And he smiled back at his partner, though his heart and his mind were still with the girl he’d dance with one day.

The Hufflepuff tried her hardest to capture his heart, but it belonged to someone he had yet to meet.

She wasn’t the one that felt like home.

-- -

Sixteen-year-old George Weasley didn’t understand why all of his classmates wanted to snog people and move onto someone else without so much as a blink.

So many people were pairing off and lasting less than a week before moving onto someone new. George rattled his brain for answers, he searched the eyes of his classmates for explanations, but he couldn’t understand why people would want to hop from one person to another. Didn’t they want to find love, a love that’s long lasting and pushes boundaries and moves mountains and weathers the storms it meets?

But perhaps, he worried, maybe that’s where he was going wrong.

Maybe, in order to find what he truly yearned for, he needed to be reckless and love without really loving.

Maybe he needed to search less, in order to find her.

And so he decided, with much persuasion from Fred, that he’d ask that pretty brunette Ravenclaw to the Yule Ball, and he’d dance and drink firewhisky and maybe he’d even kiss her, if the courage he tried to summon stayed with him throughout the night.

And maybe if he did all those things, he’d forget about the one his heart desperately craved.

And for a little while, he really did forget. Perhaps he could get on board with this “love the one you’re with” mentality. Maybe he could just be in the moment without worrying about everyone else. Maybe he could kiss girls without feeling anything, maybe he could date casually, maybe he could be like everyone else his age and not think about weddings and marriage and having children.

“Georgieee,” the Ravenclaw slurred on the dance floor. She tugged on his tie and pulled him close. He could smell the firewhisky on her breath and his heart began to pound when she pressed her lips lightly to his cheek. “Dance with meeee.”

No, this wasn’t what he wanted. He wanted more than this. He’d always wanted more than this.

George begrudgingly agreed and caught Fred’s eye from across the dance floor. The elder twin threaded his brows together and pushed the air with his hands, as if encouraging his younger brother to go for it. The Ravenclaw dazedly draped her arms across George’s shoulders and he sheepishly looked down toward his feet, but didn’t wrap his arms around her.

“George Weasleeeeyyyy,” she slurred again, hiccoughing in between giggles, “I said dance with meeeeeee.”

He tried to fight it, tried not to think of what he always did, but he couldn’t help it.

This girl was not the one. He could tell, because there was no love in the way she said his name. There was no true feeling in the surplus of kisses she kept pressing to his jawline, and there was no warmth radiating from her -- not the kind that mattered, anyway.

He knew, as he placed his hands gently on her waist and swayed with her to the music, that this was not what love felt like. This is not what home felt like.

He danced anyway, even though it was not the kind of dancing he’d seen his parents do all those years ago, and he allowed himself to think about what the rest of his classmates weren’t -- the person he’d hold in his arms, who’d be the mother to his children, who’s kisses would send him spiraling, who’s embraces would become all too familiar in a way that would comfort him in the darkest of times.

He allowed himself again, to dream of true love.

-- -

Seventeen-year-old George Weasley was sick and tired of waiting for the one.

It sounded kind of dramatic in his own head, seeing as he was only seventeen, but he’d known now for ten years exactly what he was looking for, and ten years seemed like a lifetime.

It didn’t help that nearly all of his friends had gotten over their casual dating scene and were now all enthralled with their significant others. He felt so painfully lonely, though he’d never admit it to a soul. He could hardly admit it to himself.

One evening, he shot up from the couch and out of the common room in a fit of fury, for if he had to see Fred and Angelina snogging in the corner for one more minute, he was quite certain he was going to explode from disgust. He was happy for his brother, of course he was, but he didn’t need to see it. Not as often as that.

He found Ron sitting in the Great Hall with Ginny, Harry, and Hermione and plopped beside them all before engaging in exciting rounds of exploding snap. But as the night grew darker and he grew more tired, George noticed the undeniable chemistry between his sister and Harry and his brother and Hermione. Though they all hadn’t admitted to one another how they felt, George had found it obvious, and he politely excused himself before he tugged his jacket rather angrily around his shoulders before he walked out into the winter storm, just to feel the cold air numb his skin.

He walked out of the castle, over toward the owlery, through the treacherous amounts of snow. Anything to distract George from everyone who’d apparently been hit by Cupid’s bloody arrow.

Ever since he was born, it had always been Fred and George. What about George and Fred? Was it because Fred was older? And why were people always lumping them together? Just because they’re twins? George loathed that. They were individuals too. He was always second, in everything.

In getting hand-me-downs from his older brothers. In being referred to with his twin. In lessons when the professors would call out their names for attendance, because F came before G in the alphabet. And even when it came to love; all the girls always seemed to flock to Fred instead, because he was more exciting. More boisterous. Less shy.

The cold, winter air bit violently at his exposed skin, and he reckoned it hurt less than watching everyone around him find someone that chose them, all while he was still waiting for the right person to choose him.

George Weasley didn’t want to be someone’s second choice.

He wanted to be someone’s first.

-- -

Twenty-year-old George Weasley didn’t know how exactly he ended up here.

He didn’t know how he ended up in a relationship three years deep, without having said “I love you” once and actually meaning it.

George thought he might’ve found her, his person, during his seventh year. She was beautiful and kind and everything he thought he’d hoped and dreamt of. Her soft touch, her yearning eyes, the way she curled up next to him in the dormitories late at night and held onto him as she slept -- it was everything, and it seemed to be perfect.

He thought that maybe, perhaps, she was it. But even so, he found himself waiting, still, for that feeling… the one on the staircase he’d felt so long ago.

But the pain of realizing that she wasn’t who he’d been searching for was more heartbreaking than the pain of him asking her to leave.

He’d been looking at her through rose coloured lenses and had been ignoring the truth that was right in front of him.

He should’ve left years ago, when that Gryffindor girl began to make backhanded jokes about the shop, and his dreams of becoming a business entrepreneur, claiming that she was only joking around.

He should’ve left when that girl showed up late to the grand opening of their shop, nearly a year into their relationship.

He should’ve left when he held her in his arms, and still didn’t feel comfortable beside her.

His heart ached for it, what he’d felt on the staircase at the mere age of seven. And perhaps he’d become so desperate for it, that he took something disguised as true love.

But the truth was that he knew, deep in his soul, that this Gryffindor girl wasn’t the one. He’d just chosen, outright, to ignore it. Perhaps if he could forget that idea that “the one” would smack him square in the face with an overwhelming sensation of knowing, he could have learned to love her, even when he hadn’t had that smack in the face moment when he’d met her all those years ago.

But it hadn’t happened, had it? He hadn’t grown to love her. Not truly, anyway. And she hadn’t grown to love him. Not in the way he wanted to be loved, at least.

Because it was more than just heated kisses and lazy days in bed and all things physical that he wanted.

It was about love. Pure, blinding, unadulterated love.

He stood frozen solid in the middle of his tiny flat and watched as that Gryffindor girl grabbed her coat off of the hanger and raised her hand slightly before slipping silently into the dimly lit hallway for the very last time. And George poured himself a glass of bourbon and sat near the window, looking up at the stars, expecting to feel sad at her departure, but in fact, he didn’t feel sad at all.

He felt hopeful.

He hadn’t found the one yet, but he knew she was out there, getting to him as fast as she possibly could.

Though his brothers had urged him to come to the pub and meet someone else, George didn’t fancy the idea of doing that. He was over that entire scene, just as he was in school when everyone was pairing off and moving on immediately. He didn’t want something fleeting, and he didn’t want something meaningless.

He wanted something true.

-- -

Twenty-three-year old George Weasley was certain that he was never going to find that feeling ever again, for as long as he lived.

While all of his friends were out at the pubs, meeting people and fooling around as if feelings weren’t involved, George was walking aimlessly through the streets to work. He was constantly dealing with the haze above his head, waiting for it to lift. He was turning down girls left and right and ignoring his brothers’ insistence on dating casually again.

He didn’t want to waste any more of his time on people who weren’t going to reach out and trace circles onto his chest in the middle of the night, or who weren’t going to dance around the kitchen in his clothes while cooking dinner, or who weren’t going to look at him with eyes so tender, it would render him useless for days to come.

He’d been waiting sixteen years to find his person, the one who would choose him everyday over everyone else, and in hindsight it didn’t quite seem like a long time. But as he cried silently to himself every few nights in bed, feeling the empty space next to him and yearning for the one who was meant to be there, sixteen years felt like a lifetime.

He thought for a long while, that maybe she was in another country, or maybe she was an auror or something, fighting her way through the monsters of the wizarding world.

He’d thought for a bit that perhaps he just hadn’t met her yet.

But as the days dragged on and he found himself lost in crowds, searching face after face, looking for hers, he truly felt as though all hope was lost.

And so George paced back and forth in the kitchen of his flat, biting at his nails and pouring himself hefty glasses of wine, keen on ignoring everyone’s attempts at getting him to come out.

Maybe this was what he deserved.

Maybe because he wasn’t out there, sleeping with people whose names he wouldn’t remember come morning like everyone else, he was just going to be alone.

Maybe there really wasn’t someone out there for him. Maybe not everyone finds true love. Maybe his parents had just gotten lucky.

The dull ache in George’s heart grew stronger, and for the upteenth night in a row, he laid in bed and gripped the covers and cried himself to sleep, his tears sliding down his cheeks the same way the evening rain slid down the window terrace.

-- -

Twenty-four-year old George Weasley stopped dead in his tracks as soon as he felt it.

That feeling. The one from the staircase as he watched his parents dance, all those years ago.

Heart pounding, chest rising, hands freezing.

It hit him square in the chest without warning, nearly knocking him over though his feet were rooted into the ground at the spot, smack dab in the middle of that cafe in the middle of London.

Someone was playing a slow, soft piano tune coming from the other end. People were filtering in and out, asking the man in front of them what exactly he was staring at and why he wasn’t moving. But George Weasley stood where he was, not taking his eyes off of you.

You were reading furiously, flipping through pages of a book gripped tightly in your hands, as though you couldn’t devour the plot fast enough. George watched with admiration as a gentle smile tugged at your lips, as your eyes scanned the words quickly, as you tapped your foot on the ground, in rhythm with that slow piano.

He watched with dazed eyes and parted lips as you finished the end of your book. You dabbed your eyes with a tissue and clutched the book tightly to your chest, overwhelmed, clearly, by the end of the plot. George’s heart soared so high at your passion that he found himself struggling to hold back the I love you that was pressing behind his lips.

You immediately took a long sip of your tea and placed your finished book back into your bag, only to pull out another and immediately immerse yourself in the next story. George laughed to himself, stunned that you were so intent on falling into someone else’s storyline, if only for a little while, that you hadn’t dared take a break from one book to the next. You merely jumped right in.

He wondered if his overwhelming feelings called out to you like a signal of sorts, because just as he was working up the courage to walk over to you, you looked up. You searched the room for a moment before meeting his gaze and suddenly, the world around you both stopped.

George found himself wanting to know everything about you. He itched to devour up any and all information you’d be so kind to provide to him -- your name, your favorite color, your birthday. He wanted to know what book you’d just been reading, and what about it had moved you so much to the point of tears. He wanted to know everything, but deep in his soul, he also knew that he’d have years to learn it all.

In fact, he’d have the rest of forever.

Your eyes went soft and George began to feel the steady pounding of his heart increase, and to his amazement, he noticed a gentle smile tug at the edges of your lips.

And he smiled back.

He’d been right all along. That feeling of finding the one would smack him square in the face. He wondered, as he peered at you now, biting down on your bottom lip and looking toward the ground, why he’d ever doubted himself in the first place. And he wondered when you looked back up at him once again and raised a hand to say hello, if you’d been smacked in the face with that feeling too, just like he had.

He resisted the urge to pour his heart out to you, right here and right now. He’d have time.

Perhaps today was just about having today, and recognizing that you were everything he’d been looking for since that evening on the staircase.

He’d tell you this one day.

-- -

“And what does… Lumox mean again?”

George laughed and squeezed your hands. “You mean, Lumos?”

You bit your lip in embarrassment and laughed, too. “Yes! Lumos. That’s the one that produces light, right?”

George brought your hands to his lips and kissed them gently. You two were seated inside a bustling restaurant in Diagon Alley, and he wondered if people passing by realized just how cozy you two looked together. “You’re more brilliant than most witches I know.”

You cocked your head to the side with an air of confidence and batted your eyelashes at him. “What can I say, Georgie? I may have been born a… Mugglie… but maybe I was meant to be a witch.”

George had to bite down on his lip to keep from laughing. He couldn’t get over how painfully adorable you were as you attempted to pronounce these wizarding words and learn spells and charms and things as he taught you all things about the wizarding world. You took his wand and pointed it at your wine glass, pretending to transfigure it. You couldn’t, of course, since you weren’t a magical being. But George didn’t mind. He could watch you pretend all day long.

In all his years of studying magic, he’d never felt anything quite like this.

BONUS, just because i hate feeling sad asf:

Thirty-two-year old George Weasley rocked his redheaded daughter back and forth in his arms, until he was certain that she was sound asleep again -- her mouth open wide as she began to snore softly when he placed her back into her crib.

He peered up at the clock on the wall and blinked a few times before 4:32 a.m. came into focus. Exhausted, he made his way back into his room before sliding into bed.

And there it was again. That feeling.

You turned over in bed to face him, squinting in the darkness as your eyes adjusted to the scene unfolding before you. Groggily, you reached out and traced your fingers across his jawline. His heart nearly stopped. “Is she alright?” you asked sleepily.

George grinned softly and leant forward before pressing a kiss to your forehead. He whispered, “She’s alright. Go back to sleep.”

Though your eyes were already shut, you reached out again and took his hand in yours before bringing your lips gently to his fingers. “Okay.. I love you.. G’night..”

But you were asleep again before George could respond, so instead he pulled you closely to him and began to gently trace circles on your bare shoulders. He breathed in the smell of your shampoo, and listened intently for the beating of your heart that had fallen into sync with his.

Tears pushed at the edges of his eyes, but he slowed his breathing and reminded himself, again, that there was no longer an empty space beside him in bed.

Maybe he shouldn’t have ever given up hope, but perhaps giving up hope was what made finding you so much sweeter.

If only he could tell seven-year-old George what he’d find when the time was right.

And in the darkness, as the rain pattered on the rooftop of his house and he felt your embrace tighten around his body, he whispered into the silence, “I love you, too.”

tag list: @mintlibri @seppys-return-to-madness @fopdoodledane @fredd-weasley @iprobablyshipit91 @darling-details @laneygthememequeen @lupinsx @keoghans @helloallthethingsilove @acciotwinz @feffffffy @the-hufflepuff-of-221b @62442-am @wtfweasleyy @thoseofgreatambition @harrysweasleys @sleep-i-ness @haphazardhufflepuff @afriendlyneighborhoodhufflepuff @kageyama-i-want-tobiors @letsfightsomeorcs @theweasleysredhair @hxfflxpxffs @wand3ringr0s3 @finecole @highly-acidic @90shermione @zreads @holland-parkers @andromedaa-tonks @bbstrawberry0421 @princessof-theuniverse @cappsikle @awritingtree @imseeinggred @idont-knowrn @flyinhserpxnt @auroraboringalis57 @godricsswords @jejegu @annasofiaearlobe @starlightweasley @alwaysasadaesthetic @thisismysketchbook @izzytheninja @imboredandneedalife @hemmoporro @valwritesx @heavenlymidnight @hannolannno @msmimimerton @oh-for-merlins-sake @hufflepuff5972 @pigwidgexn @sarcasticallywitty15 @breadqueen95 @teawiththeweasleys @pit-and-the-pen @phuvioqhile @vogueweasley @hufflrpuffforfred @harrypotter289 @lovefromrosie | message me if you’d like to be added or removed or have changed your URL so i can update!

[mercurygguk]

bleeding for you | jjk

genre; angst, fluff

pairing; EMT!jungkook x female reader

✎ summary; In which it’s just another quiet night at the fire station until there’s an alarmingly serious car accident not far away. Jungkook is the first on the scene along with his partner, Namjoon. What meets Jungkook at the scene of the accident is worse than anything he could ever imagine.

word count; 3,367

based on a request by anon; It's a Jungkook au, where he's a EMT & they get a call for a very serious accident. When he arrives on scene he sees a very familiar car. A hand dangles from the shattered window, the engagement ring he'd slipped on your finger not two months ago mocking him. I envision a happy ending, but if you want, do with it what you will.

warnings; Descriptions of car accidents, mentions of bruises and blood, jungkook’s crying a whole lot, i’m sorry if this is tough on your heart bc it definitely was on mine, phew

a/n; I LOVED THIS IDEA FROM ANON, SO THANK YOU ANON and let’s be honest here, paramedic/EMT!jungkook is lowkey hotttt. Also, I took some inspiration from the tv-show Chicago Fire and some from Grey’s Anatomy because those are the only shows I’ve actually watched with things related to this kind of scenario, lol. I hope you like it, enjoy!

ps. it’s heavily unedited and i wrote this rather quickly, so please ignore if you spot anything hehe

The clock ticks on the wall and there are sounds of cars passing by once in a while outside on the street. Jungkook is staring silently at the TV in the staff room, his eyes focused on the ball that moves around between the football players. He’s bored, sighing deeply to himself as he drops his head back against the back of the couch he’s currently slouching on. Namjoon, Jungkook’s partner, plops down beside him, a sandwich on a plate for him to eat for dinner. He looks happily at his sandwich, more than excited to bite into it and finally getting a chance to continue reading his book for once.

Jungkook hates quiet nights at the firestation. He despises them. It makes him think of all the other things he could be doing instead – an example being at home, in bed with you; his fiancé. A title you recently had gained after Jungkook finally got the courage to get down on one knee for you, asking you to be his for the rest of his life. Just the thought of the happiness he felt that night made butterflies erupt in his stomach, suddenly daydreaming about your smile and the way you always manage to make him feel like he’s floating on a pink cloud. He’s totally whipped, but only for you.

His daydream is quickly interrupted by the sound of Namjoon chewing his sandwich loudly, making Jungkook glare at him with disgust. Namjoon, the charming person that he is, looks back at Jungkook in confusion.

“What?” Namjoon blurts with his mouth filled with a bite of his disgusting sandwich. Jungkook shakes his head at him, turning back to the boring game that’s unfolding on the TV. He really hates quiet nights. 

After half an hour and still nothing, Jungkook groans and gets up from the couch to wander around, causing Namjoon to look at him again with tired eyes. “What’s going on, Jeon?” He asks, flipping a page in his psychology novel.

“Nothing’s going on,” Jungkook grumbles, tired of just sitting around, “absolutely nothing.” 

Namjoon is about to tell Jungkook to sit down and relax for once but the alarm beats him to it, sounding loudly throughout the entire fire station. “Squad 3, truck 81 and 82, ambo 65, 78 and 32 – bigger car crash on the 5th highway, multiple victims,” Taehyung from the alarm center's voice booms throughout the fire station’s rooms. Jungkook’s eyes widen and so do Namjoon’s. They’re quick to move, book, sandwich and football match long forgotten as they run to their unit. Jungkook jumps in the driver’s seat, buckling up faster than ever. His partner is fast to join him and buckling up as Jungkook speeds out of the garage at the fire station and onto the road. Jungkook’s focused, eyebrow knitted together in concentration and the urge to do what he does the best – save some lives.

The highway is chaotic once Jungkook and Namjoon arrive as the first ones at the scene, multiple cars lying around – on the hood, on the side and some crushed to the point of where it’s not even a car anymore. It looks worse than anything they have ever experienced and it’s slightly terrifying but they’re headstrong as they grab their medical bags and run off to a random car each. Squad 3 and the firetrucks pull up not long after Jungkook and Namjoon’s arrival, all of them getting out quickly and getting to work, trying to see if they can save all victims or just the majority of them.

The first car Jungkook reaches is empty, the driver of it luckily managed to get himself out before any sort of rescue arrived. He seems fine, his car almost not even scratched. “Sir, are you alright?” Jungkook asks, doing his job in making sure the man is alright before continuing to another car. The man nods, waving a hand at Jungkook.

“Please go see some of the others, I’m fine!” He almost sobs, clearly traumatized by the car accident.

Jungkook nods at that, giving him one last look all over before heading on to the next car. He looks around in his haste to get to the next one, stopping abruptly in his tracks as he spots a familiar looking car. It can’t be, he thinks to himself as he turns to look at the car properly. His chest tightens at the thought, feeling himself hastily moving closer to the car as tears begin to form in his eyes. It doesn’t occur to him until a hand dangling from the window catches his attention as he gets closer, the diamond ring confirming his worst fear.

“No, no, no!” Jungkook shouts in a mix of terror, anger and his heart breaking into a million pieces, tears already falling from his eyes as he runs up to the car, his hands trembling. Pain shoots through him at the sight of you, body limp and unconscious, face battered in bruises and wounds and there’s blood on your beautiful, white shirt and he prays to God that isn’t yours but who is he even trying to fool? Of course, it’s yours. “No, please, no!”

From the other side of the highway, Namjoon spots Jungkook scrambling towards the car that he, too, finds awfully familiar. His eyes widen at the sight as realisation hits him. 

“Shit!” He hisses, making sure the victim he’s treating is okay before running towards Jungkook, heart beating a hundred miles per hour. All he can think about is getting his partner away from the car which is lying on its side. “Kook!”

Namjoon has to pull harder than he expected as he reaches Jungkook. He isn’t willing to let go of the car, hands reaching for your unconscious body that is still, thankfully, buckled up in the driver’s seat. You hear nothing of Jungkook’s cries as he’s pulled away by his partner and best friend. “____! Baby, please wake up, please!”

The sight in front of them is nothing but a real life nightmare, the scene only a fear of Jungkook’s until tonight. Namjoon has no idea how to calm his partner down as he pulls him away. His heart is breaking at the sound of Jungkook’s sobs, his chest heaving for air as he looks at the broken car, which was nicely parked in the parking lot of his and yours apartment building when he left for work this morning. He watches it being pulled apart to reach you, the EMTs of Ambo 78 tending to your wounds and body, trying their best to support you until they get you to the hospital.

They lift you into the ambulance, Jungkook’s body working automatically as he tries to jump into the back of the ambulance and ride with you to make sure that they’re taking care of you the right way. This isn’t just another victim, it’s you, Jeon Jungkook’s fiancé. Namjoon holds him back, using all his strength because a sad, terrified Jungkook is stronger than he ever could’ve imagined.

“Hyung, please, I need to go with her!” Jungkook cries, glancing quickly at the man holding him back, before looking back at the ambulance you’re now in. They close the doors, hurriedly getting in the front and speed off. “For fuck’s sake, Namjoon, let me go!”

Namjoon shakes his head, “I need you to calm down first, Kook. You’re not thinking clearly.”

Jungkook thinks that’s the biggest load of bullshit he’s ever heard. He whirls around, not in the mood for his best friend’s psychology shit. “I swear, I will punch you,” he sneers, eyes watery and cheeks stricken with tears. Namjoon stares back at him, lips in a tight line and eyes wide because he has never seen Jungkook so out of it before. “How am I supposed to calm down when my fucking fiancé is a victim of one of the biggest car crashes we’ve ever witnessed, huh? She’s hurt and unconscious in the back of one of OUR ambulances right now, Joon. Don’t fucking tell me to calm down.”

Despite his harsh words, Namjoon feels sorry for Jungkook. He nods, putting his hands up in surrender. Jungkook breathes out, chest heavy with a feeling he can’t quite describe. He just knows that he doesn’t want to waste another second here, the only place he wants to be is by your side until you wake up and tell him you’re okay.

“At least let me drive you to the hospital?” Namjoon offers, voice hesitant and cautious as he gestures to their ambulance. 

Jungkook sniffs, nodding, “please.”

The ride to the hospital is quiet, tense too. Jungkook is staring straight ahead and not moving, just letting the tears in his eyes fall until he has none left. He’s pretty sure the drive to the hospital usually isn't this long. He feels like he’s been on this ride with Namjoon for hours when really, it has only been at least 15 minutes. 15 minutes too long, he thinks to himself. He could’ve been with you right now, holding your hand while you get sutured up and stitched back to perfection – at least what Jungkook thinks is perfection. However, you’d never agree on that.

Namjoon doesn’t get to say anything before Jungkook’s out of the passenger seat of the ambulance, his body moving almost before Namjoon had parked it. He doesn’t notice anything around him, heading straight for the front desk to ask about your status. The nurse there looks at him with a face that says she’s sorry without even saying the words. Jungkook doesn’t need those words, there’s nothing to be sorry for. People only say they’re sorry when something really bad happens, and as far as Jungkook knows, you’re still alive. You have to be. He hasn’t married you yet.

“My fiancé was brought here not long ago, her name is ____,” Jungkook hurriedly asks, the nurse working quickly to type into her computer. Jungkook taps his foot against the floor in impatience.

“She’s in surgery at the moment,” the nurse says softly, watching as Jungkook’s breath hitches in his throat at the news. Namjoon comes up beside him, laying a hand on his shoulder. “The doctors will find you once they’re done.”

Namjoon nods in appreciation to the nurse, Jungkook stares at nothing in particular, scared he’ll break down in the middle of the entrance of the hospital he so often visits because of his job. “We’ll wait over there,” he tells the nurse, tugging Jungkook along. “Let’s go, Kook.”

Jungkook follows along, sitting down in a seat with Namjoon beside him. He feels like he should be calling his family and yours, yet he can’t think straight and his head is empty for words right now. The only thing on his mind is you and the fact that you’re at risk of dying. He has no idea how serious your injuries are but they’re serious enough to land you on the surgery table. His breathing is short, eyes staring at the floor and ears focusing on the sound of the opening and closing of the doors to the surgery halls. He feels alone even though Namjoon is sitting right beside him, he feels helpless, he feels like he’s been left in the dark. He knows nothing about what’s happening to you and it’s driving him absolutely crazy. The thought of losing you brings a new round of tears to his eyes, lips trembling as he fights to keep his sobs inside and not break down in the middle of other people. It’s like Namjoon senses as he gets up, pulling his phone from his pocket. He moves a bit away from Jungkook, speed dialling the only person he knows will be able to comfort his best friend in the slightest. 

Jungkook’s wandering the waiting area, hands tightly intertwined in front of his lips and eyes closed as he walks back and forth in front of Namjoon. It has been at least three hours and his nerves aren’t exactly becoming less the longer it takes for the surgeons to give him some kind of news – any kind would be appreciated by now. He stills as a hand comes to rest against his back, gentle touch that can only belong to one person on this planet. He turns around to face her, her eyes softening at the sight of his red eyes and wet eyelashes.

“Mom,” he croaks out, a sob raking through his body as he crumbles into her embrace.

“Oh, sweetheart,” she coos, wrapping her arms around his tall frame, hugging her sweet, heartbroken son to her chest in the hopes of comforting him just the tiniest bit. They stay like that for a few minutes until Jungkook’s mother breaks the embrace, holding him at arm's length. “I’m sure she will be fine, Jungkook. She’s a strong woman.”

He sniffles, feeling slightly better at his mother’s words. He offers a small, the tiniest, smile. She smiles softly and comfortingly at him, reaching up to wipe his tears away. “You have to be strong too, sweetheart. She needs you to be strong for her.”

Jungkook nods and whispers lowly: “I know, mom.”

“Mr. Jeon?” A voice calls. Jungkook, his mother, and Namjoon whips around to face the doctor who called Jungkook’s name. “Miss ____ is out of surgery. We were able to fix her injuries and she is up for recovery now.”

Jungkook lets out a sigh of relief, feeling a heavy weight disappearing from his shoulders. The doctor offers him a warm smile. “She will be in the ICU for at least a couple of days until we see some progress. You can go see her, she is in room 248.”

“Thank you so much,” Jungkook says with the utmost gratitude and a smile as he shakes the doctor’s hand before grabbing his things and heading in the direction of the ICU. 

He finds the room without any problems, pausing just outside of the door. His mother and Namjoon both stand behind him, watching him in silence. They’re not pushing him, letting him do this on his own, letting him prepare for whatever he’s about to meet behind this door. He inhales and holds his breath before pushing the door open and heading inside. The sound of the monitor beeping is the first thing that meets him, what meets him next causes him to gasp softly in horror. This must be what it feels like to live out your nightmare and biggest fears, he thinks to himself as he moves closer to your body that’s lying unconsciously on the bed. It seems his tears are never-ending today as he pulls a seat to the side of the bed, sitting down with his eyes trained on you.

He looks you over, wincing lightly at the sight of tubes and IVs attached to you. There are scratches and wounds on your body, your skin beaten up from the harsh car crash you so unluckily ended up in earlier. He’s hesitant as he reaches for your hand, being more than careful as he intertwines his hand with yours. You don’t squeeze his hand like you always do and it makes him realize that you are in fact unconscious and probably not aware of the entire situation right now.

Jungkook scans your face, lips trembling and fingers shaking as he reaches up to move your hair out of your face. There’s scratches on your pretty face too, a big patch on the right side of your forehead where they stitched you up. He’s hurting, not quite as much as you, as he looks at you. You’re still gorgeous, even like this. 

“I love you so much, ____,” Jungkook whispers, bringing your hand up to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to your ring-clad hand. “Please be okay.”

Days have passed since the accident, and you still haven’t opened your eyes. Jungkook is becoming impatient, sitting here and waiting is killing him slowly. His mother had left in the morning after being with him throughout the first night. Jungkook had called your family while his mother held his hand. He will never forget the way a sob raked through your mother’s body as he told her what had happened. They were here now; your mother, your father and your brother, Yoongi. Your parents sit on either side of you, Jungkook’s resting against the wall at the end of the bed, Yoongi sitting in the chair beside him. The silence is almost unbearable but no one dares speaking, afraid of nothing in particular – perhaps the chances of you crashing right in front of all of them.

Jungkook’s done crying. He doesn’t think he has any tears left in him, only this heavy feeling of regret even though he has nothing to regret. No matter what, he couldn’t have stopped this from happening. Why you were out driving that late is still a mystery to him, but he’s not sure he wants to know. He has a feeling it will tear him apart knowing the reason.

Your dad jerks up from his resting posture causing everyone to widen their eyes at him. “S-she squeezed my hand,” he almost whispers. Jungkook’s breathing quickens, eyes staring at your closed ones. He waits, anticipating the worst. Your eyes flutter, a small crease forming in your forehead as you try to adjust to the lights in the room. He sighs in relief for what feels like the hundredth time, feeling the tears coming back. Okay, he isn’t quite done yet.

“Jungkook?!” You croak out, trying to sit up. Jungkook feels his heart breaking at the tone in your voice. You sound confused, slightly shaken up and sad. He’s quick to be at your side, taking over from your father. His hand grabs yours, fingers intertwining automatically. “Kook,” you whimper, clearly not fully awake from your deep days long slumber.

“I’m here, baby” he softly calls, searching your eyes with his own, “I’m right here.”

You look at him, eyes locking and you feel yourself calm down already. Jungkook notices the unshed tears in your hazy eyes. “Where am I?” You ask, voice small.

“The hospital,” he explains, keeping his voice low and soft for you as you just woke up from a long, long nap. “You were in an accident, ____. Do you remember what happened?”

You shake your head, wincing at the movement. Your entire body is sore, hurting everywhere and you want to cry. You just want to cry and hug Jungkook tightly because that’s the only place you feel safe and happy, in his arms. 

“How long?” You speak a bit louder now, still not registering your entire family standing around the two of you. You’re in your own little world, your focus only aimed at the curly-haired man in front of you. Your mom is watching you closely, letting a small tear slip down her cheek as she takes in the moment of you and Jungkook. Your father is right beside her, rubbing her arms in comfort. Yoongi is watching too, smiling to himself because he doesn’t think his younger sister could’ve found anyone more fit for her than Jeon Jungkook.

“Only a few days,” Jungkook answers, bringing your intertwined hands to his chest. His heart is beating hard and fast causing you to gasp. He smiles at you as you look up at him, eyes wide.

You move to press your other hand to his chest, resting it above his heart. “Are you okay?”

Jungkook can’t help but chuckle. Even when you’re the one hurting, you ask him if he’s okay just because his heart is beating a bit faster than it usually does. He nods, smiling softly at you, eyes twinkling with fresh tears once again. 

“I’m fine,” he whispers, leaning closer to press his lips to your forehead in a lingering kiss. “Just really relieved.”

You smile at his words, only imagining how worried he must’ve been the past few days if you’ve been in this bed and unconscious. “I love you, Kook.”

Jungkook chokes out a laugh, “I love you too baby, more than anything.”

[sweetkingdomstarlight-blog]

they were roommates

Warnings - non consensual sex, anal sex, somnophilia, forced drug use

Pairings - Bucky Barnes x Reader

Words - over 2k

A/N - READ THE WARNINGS - I can’t stress this enough. Also if you are under 18 just shoo, bugger off. I wrote this from a prompt on @darkficsyouneveraskedfor​ stalker writing challenge, the prompt was your roommate isn’t who you thought they were. I’m still super new to writing and this is new territory for me, as always a huge massive thankyou to my beautiful wife @buckyownsmylife​ she helped me a lot and continues to hype me up.

It’s been six weeks since your friend got a new job upstate and moved out,. You’ve had an advert out for a new roommate but so far everyone who’s applied has either been rude or hasn’t shown up. You’re running low on your savings and would probably accept Satan himself if he could pay his fair share. That’s when your latest applicant knocked on your door.

James was polite and charming, he offered to pay a month up front to secure the room and could move in as soon as possible. You felt like a weight was lifted off your shoulders when he moved in later that week, it was a bit odd that he had no friends to help him but he didn’t seem to have a lot of stuff and had himself sorted while you worked in your home office.

The first night he offered to buy pizza and beers so you could get to know each other better, it turns out you two had a lot of things in common and he was easy to get along with. You must have had a few too many beers because your head felt fuzzy, deciding it was time to go to bed. You said goodnight to James and stood up but felt so dizzy you had to immediately sit back down. James was so sweet though, looking after you, he actually picked you up and put you to bed so you didn't have to walk the short distance to your room.

Waking up the next morning you realised you were wearing a t-shirt you didn’t recognise but you didn’t remember getting changed, your mouth felt strangely dry so you got up for a drink. That’s when the soreness hit you, in between your legs, rushing to the bathroom you were confused that you weren’t getting your period and nothing seemed to be different. You assumed you were getting sick and went for hot tea to soothe yourself.

Sitting at the kitchen counter drinking and nibbling on some dry toast, James walks in looking like he’s just been for a run. He grabs a bottle of water and walks over to you giggling “you can’t possibly be hungover you only had three drinks last night” you look up at him smirking and sarcastically respond, “yeah, well, maybe I’m just a lightweight”.

As you get up to clear away your mess he clears his throat making you turn. “Should we have a system for when we have people over in the future?” You look at him confused. “I’m sorry what do you mean? Do you want to bring someone over tonight?”

He chuckles at you, “Well no, not tonight but if you want your friend from last night to come back I can make sure you have some privacy,” he offers you, smirking at the confused look on your face.

“I’m sorry, I don't understand, I went to sleep last night. I didn’t have anyone over.” Taking a step closer, he leans on the counter separating you both. “Then who did I hear you with last night and who did I kick out this morning?” You stare at him open mouthed and scurry off to your room to check your phone for some clues, you feel your chest tighten when you see that you matched with someone last night and invited him over. How could you not remember? You were absolutely mortified, what is James going to think of you now?

Sitting in your home office talking to idiot customers on the phone all day, you try to take your mind off what happened last night. How can you have invited someone over, had sex and apparently stolen his t-shirt without even knowing? You vow there and then you aren’t drinking ever again. However, the end of the week rolls by and it's been the absolute worst, your boss is a dick, your customers are all idiots and to top it off your best friend hasn’t responded to your calls all week and you don’t know why.

You have a quick shower and decide to spend the night binge watching whatever you can find on Netflix when James sits next to you handing you a gin and tonic. “Thanks but I’m not drinking for a little while.” You go to put the drink down but he pushes it up to your mouth

“Don’t be silly, you’ve had a hard week. One drink won’t hurt” smiling at him you take a sip and he’s right, you instantly relax and get cosy on the sofa, ordering chinese and laughing at the show you both decide on. Waking up in the middle of the night with a dry mouth again, you find yourself laying on your bed but this time you have your own clothes on which is a relief. Standing up, you feel a bit weird round the back like you’ve been stretched out with one of your plugs but that’s not possible, they’re hidden in your box under the bed.

You drink a big glass of water and sit on the kitchen counter, a little uncomfortably, but quietly and relax. Something has been off the last week and you can’t put your finger on it, it's always weird when you get a new roommate and you’ve put it down to that but you just sense something isn’t quite right. You lean your head back on the wall behind you and get a surprise when James walks round the corner. “Hey doll, you feeling ok? You looked a bit sickly earlier and went to bed. I didn’t want to wake you up.”

You nod at how sweet he was and drink some more water before hopping down. “I’m fine just going to sleep it off.” He takes your glass for you, offering to wash it and says goodnight, watching you walk away very closely and licking his lips as his eyes roam over your body.

It’s been a few weeks now since James moved in, he’s got to be the best roommate you’ve ever had. He pays his bills on time, keeps the place spotless and he’s such a good cook, always making food and drinks for you. It's lucky that he’s so kind because none of your friends seem to be in touch anymore, you message them and even try calling them but no one ever replies.

You sit watching your usual Friday night film with drinks and Chinese takeout, talking to James about both your weeks, tonight though he sits closer than usual and his face seems to light up when you talk to him. He’s possibly the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen in real life, you’ve never looked at him that way before because not only is he your roommate but he’s so far out of your league it's laughable. You tell one of your stupid jokes and he laughs with his whole body, his arm goes around the back of the sofa and he pulls you in close, hugging into him, you relax biting your lip when he kisses the top of your head.

That was the beginning of it for you both. You had daily movie nights, he cooked for you every day, listened when you got upset that your friends seemed to have dropped you and even encouraged you to start running with him. Everything felt perfect, you still occasionally woke up sore with a dry mouth but James told you it was just your body getting used to all the exercise you were now doing. Both of you had really found each other, loners who just needed someone to listen.

You went down to collect your mail one day and stood talking to your elderly neighbour when she told you how familiar James looked, she couldn’t work out where she knew him from but she praised you on finding such a nice young man who apparently had carried her groceries up the stairs for her when the elevator was broken. Smiling at her you told her to have a good morning and went back to your apartment looking at the thick brown envelope addressed to you, you never really got anything in the post except the occasional leaflet. James had made you a coffee and you smiled at him taking the package in your room to open while you got ready to have a shower.

In the shower you decided tonight would be the night with James, you shaved yourself from head to toe and used your best lotions. Winking at him as you walked to your room, he had a weird look on his face and couldn’t seem to look at you. In your room the envelope had been moved, it looked like it was open too. Bending down to pick it up you hear James behind you but before you can turn around you feel a pain in your neck and everything goes dark.

You wake up with a blinding headache and go to move but your body feels too heavy. “Ssshh sweetheart, don’t move, I had to tie you up for your own safety.” You look at him confused, trying to pull on your wrists but you can’t move.

“James, what’s happening?” Sitting next to you he slips some ice chips in your mouth to ease your dry throat and takes a deep breath.

“You can blame your friend, we were so happy and she had to try and take you away from me.” A tear runs down your cheek, you’ve never heard him talk like this and it’s terrifying. “I told your little friends to leave you alone or I’d take care of them all but they just didn’t listen.” He throws the envelope down and slowly shows you the newspaper clippings and articles they had sent you, apparently he was on the run and considered dangerous, something to do with what happened with the helicarriers that crashed a few months ago.

“I’m not the Winter Soldier anymore,” he says with a smirk, wiping your tears away and tutting. “Don’t be scared of me, I’m doing this for you, for us!” Pulling on the restraints on your feet and arms again he shouts, “Enough!” You stop immediately, scared of what he‘ll do if you don’t. “You were so nice to me on the phone when I first got free, you helped me hire that car that brought me to New York. I hacked into your company's database and found you. Your roommate was easy to convince with a little bit of money and I hired all those people to come and see you so when I finally got my chance you’d want me as much as I’ve wanted you”

“Why didn’t you just ask me out like a normal person?” You managed to stutter out, trying not to sound too pathetic.

“You never leave the house, you stay home all day working then sit watching TV all night, I saw you through the webcam. You really should be more careful.” He smirks before running his fingers over your naked body. Feeling how smooth and soft your skin is he smiles. “Did you do all this for me? Sweetheart, I’ve already had all of you, you don’t have to do anything special for me. I love you just the way you are”.

The realisation hits you and you sob loudly. “Have you been touching me while I sleep?” He tilts his head to the side and looks at you with so much admiration.

“You’re so smart, I’ve been preparing you to be mine. I didn’t know how long it's been since you’ve been with a real man, not those silly little toys under your bed and I wanted our first time to be special. I even set up that fake dating account so you would think you had a guy over on that first night.” He strokes your cheek and you have to bite your tongue to stop yourself from crying.

“James I’m cold, can you untie me and we can talk properly, please.” He studies your face for a brief moment before leaning forward and chuckling in your ear.

“You can’t think I’m that stupid baby, oh and you can call me Bucky now. If you’re going to be mine forever we need to get better acquainted.” He drops his sweatpants and straddles your hips. “We’re going to have so much fun”.

[totiredtowrite]

Haunted

Warnings - Mentions of death and the word bl00d, so if that isn't your vibe I'm letting you know now

Note: Where did this idea come from? I don't know. Have an unrequested space filler that I wrote in 2 hours.

Male Reader

Ushijima Wakatoshi doesn't believe in ghosts.

He was always extremely rational. Maybe he wasn't the best with people or academics, but he always thought logic was something that drove him. Everything had some kind of explanation, even if he didn't always get it.

He doesn't really know what to do when something shocking happens. He isn't sure of how to react normally, or what to say to people. Typically when something out of the ordinary happens, he just keeps it to himself or shrugs it off. It's not all that important to him if it isn't directly affecting him or the people in his life.

And sure maybe he was just paranoid for some reason. Then again, paranoid isn't exactly the word people would use to describe the big powerful ace of Shiratorizawa.

Maybe he was going crazy. If he wasn't there isn't another way to describe everything happening. He doesn't know how to explain seeing the apparition of a boy that looks to be his age in the corner of his eye. Every night now he sees the faceless body of the same boy. Sometimes the floorboards creak like someone is walking on them when he lays his head to sleep.

The dorms were being renovated, so all of the students had to head home for a time. Ushijima hasn't been in his family home for a while now, so any odd things going on must have just gone unnoticed by his mother when he was gone.

Sometimes he finds objects out of place, or a door open that was closed before. Once he felt something cold on his left hand after his mother cast a scornful gaze at it. On an even rarer occasion, he would find one red spider lily on his bedside table. Sometimes it was a carnation.

In any case, he was progressively starting to get more and more uneasy. These strange occurrences were getting bolder, bigger, more prominent. He was starting to fear nighttime, despite none of these odd things ever being violent. The absolute worst part was that nobody else felt anything wrong.

Something wasn't right in his house anymore, and he wasn't sure if he really wanted to find out why.

🂠🃑🃁🂱🂡

"Hey Ushikawa-chan," Tendou lazily turned his head towards Ushijima, who was absentmindedly tracing a simple silver ring that he picked up a few days before the 'haunting' started. It's like everything he looked at reminded him of the creaking floorboards and red spider lilies. "You've been absent lately," Tendou waves a hand in front of his face.

Ushijima gives him a confused look. "How so?" He rumbles out.

Tendou shrugs. "I don't know man. You've just been more distant."

Ushijima looks down. "Practice has been on my mind." He made up a quick excuse. He couldn't say a boy their age was haunting the halls of his family home. That sounded as irrational as it did crazy. Tendou chuckled.

"Make sure to get some rest Wakatoshi-kun!" He stands up. "See you tomorrow!"

Ushijima nods and waves at Tendou, preparing to leave himself.

By the time he reached his front door, he hesitated laying his hand on the doorknob. There weren't any cars. No one is home. He put the ring in his pocket and opened the door. The worst that's ever happened was a cold touch on his hand, he could handle that.

He slowly entered the doorway, slipping his shoes off and making his way to his room. Nothing seemed to be out of place. In fact, it's like nobody was there at all. His closet door was closed, there weren't any flowers on his desk, and everything was ordered just as he had left it.

He relaxed, his shoulders visibly dropping in relief. This must mean that truly no one was home.

He dropped his bag on his bed and went over to his closet, opening it to grab a pair of sweatpants and a regular white shirt. He might as well take a shower. Nothing much was going to happen tonight.

🂠🃑🃁🂱🂡

Ushijima sighed in relief. A shower was probably what he needed. He was toweling off his hair to avoid more droplets on his shirt, head down as he exited his bathroom.

He walked down the hallway to his room and opened the door.

The towel dropped.

He stood, mouth agape, watching you.

You were seated on his bed with the ring in hand. You didn't seem to notice him as you smiled at it. It was you.

This time though, he could see you head on. Not an apparition in the corner of his eyes, not a faceless body in a dream. It's like every detail of your face was etched into his mind, and he suddenly felt like he always knew what it looked like.

You finally looked up from the ring and froze too. (E/c) and olive eyes met, shocked silence layering the air like fog. Ushijima shook himself out of it and moved forward in a blur, his large hand around your neck.

A strangled squeak left your throat, and Ushijima fell through you. The ring fell on the bed, colliding to it with a soft 'thump.' Your body had become translucent, no longer solid, but now a whispy, cloudy version. He fell face first on his bed, but quickly scrambled up and gave you a terrifying glare.

"Aggressive," you muttered. Ushijima blanked. He didn't know why he didn't expect you to speak.

"What are you," he demanded. It seemed like the most fitting question at the time.

You sputtered. "Rude," you moved over to his bed and sat back down, looking solid once more. "And my name is (y/n)."

Ushijima's glare hardened. "You did not answer my question," he sat up straight and swung his legs off of the bed. "What are you."

You opened your mouth but then stopped. He had a point. What exactly were you? Ghost didn't feel right at all. You weren't even really dead. Well, you were, but it was hard to explain.You shrugged softly. "Undead."

Ushijima looked at you with confusion. You returned the gaze, just more laid back. You up and moved closer to him, grabbing his shirt and pulling his face a little close.

"You're my bonded big guy," You laughed. "Thank everything you can finally look me head on."

He was getting progressively more confused. You let go of his shirt and leaned forward, hugging him way too tightly. He coughed slightly. "What might that be," he forced out and pulled you off to take a good look at you. You had a sweater on, though it was tattered and looked somewhat dirty. There were faint bloodstains on your sleeves and around your neckline. Your feet were bare and the bottoms of your pants were tattered.

You sat back and took the ring back. "I mean we're connected." You nervously looked away. "Sorry about the flowers, they were the only ones I could find." You laughed awkwardly. Ushijima raised his brows. The red spider lily symbolizes death. What an odd coincidence.

"Right..." He trailed off and the two of you sat in silence. The change in atmosphere from terrifying haunting to awkward only friend meeting was a little fast, so naturally Ushijima needed to give it some time to catch up. "...Connected?"

You nodded and slipped the ring onto his finger. "When you picked that up you brought me back." A soft smile adorned your face when you looked back up to meet his eyes. "Now we're bonded."

Ushijima brought his right hand up to test the ring on his middle finger. It didn't budge. You stood up and changed back into the cloudy form he was so used to seeing, and jumped to stay in the air. His eyes followed you in disbelief while you explained a few things.

"Being solid doesn't take much out of me actually. I just wasn't able to until your subconscious acknowledged my existence." You floated up to the top of his bookshelf. "Though technically I'm not all that solid," you rolled your eyes, "And really only you can see me."

That explained why nobody ever noticed anything wrong. His shoulders slacked. "...Are you stuck with me?"

"No, actually," you shook your head, "Now that the ring is on your finger, you can control my range of movement."

"You are okay with that?"

"I mean sorta. It gets kind of lonely around here during the day though, do you mind if I follow you to school?"

He shook his head. You smiled again. Maybe this large olive-haired oaf would be more cooperative than you thought. "From there we can find my body! It shouldn't be decaying, though the stab wounds might be a little gross." You lifted your sweater and gestured to the multiple open holes on your chest. They looked empty, no blood, no nothing. Wakatoshi could only assume that you were talking about an actual body.

Ushijima put his face in his hands. This situation was giving him whiplash. "Your body?"

"Yep," you floated over to hover just above his bed in a sitting position. "When we find that I can leave you and go on with a normal life, like before I was... you know," you gestured back at the weird empty stab wounds.

Certainly it sounded far easier to him than he knew it would be.

Ushijima pulled on the ring again, to no avail.

"Don't worry," you pat him on the back. "I'm great company."

[yourlocalfictionalenthusiast]

IN LIFE, IN DEATH...

PART TEN

:Masterlist:

A/N: And that’s a wrap! Ahh, writing this series has been so fun and I’m so glad that so many of you have liked it so much. Thank you guys for staying until the end and hopefully for upcoming stuff 👀 I hope you enjoy the finale of In Life, In Death... <3

(Also the song mentioned in part six and this part is ‘She Is Love’ by Parachute) <3

-

December 1994

Luke groaned as he woke up, squinting hard to try and adjust his eyes to the amount of light in the room.

Even before he could see clearly, he knew he must've fallen asleep in the studio judging by the soreness in his back and neck that he always got when he slept on the old couch. It couldn't have been more than six in the morning, and Luke could still feel the tiredness in his bones. So he tried to turn away from the light and hopefully fall back asleep, but there was something keeping him firmly in place.

His heart skipped when he looked down and saw that you were laying right next to him with your head on his chest and an arm thrown across his stomach. When he realized that his own arms were wrapped around you, his heart broke out into a full-on tap dance.

Waves of confusion ran through his still-foggy brain until he saw his guitar case propped up against the piano and his backpack on the floor with his clothes spilling out of it.

Then the events of last night quickly came back to him.

How he had gotten home late from rehearsal and his mom was waiting in the kitchen with his latest report card and her signature lecture at the ready. One minute he was standing there yelling, packing all he could fit into his bag, and the next, he was halfway to the studio with the rain soaking him head to toe.

He had expected it to be empty when he finally got there, but he was flooded with relief when he saw you. All the frustration slowly melted out of him the longer he laid there with you, leaving him feeling exhausted and shivering despite how warm he felt.

The last thing he wanted to do was talk about any of it, but when you asked, the words came out of his mouth before he could stop them.

He remembered rambling and crying again, the sound of your voice and the feeling of your fingers in his hair warming him up even more. Then finally, he remembered falling asleep with his chin tucked on top of your head, the smell of your shampoo filling his senses.

Without thinking, Luke reached down and carefully pushed a piece of hair away from your face, tucking it behind your ear and smiling to himself when you shifted into his touch. Then taking in a sharp breath as the realization ran through him all the way down to his toes.

You were his best friend.

The person he wanted to see at the end of a long day. Whenever he was full of anger or lost in confusion, all he had to do was look at you and everything suddenly made sense again. With your pretty smile and laugh, and your way of flipping that little switch inside him that made his head all fuzzy and the ground start spinning under his feet.

You were his best friend, and he was in love with you.

-

2020

All you felt was a mixture of anxiety and nausea as you stood on the Orpheum's street corner, biting the tips of your fingernails.

The entire plan hinged on Willie and Teddy getting everything done in time, and considering that they had betrayed you all before, you couldn’t help but expect the worst.

“Look, don’t worry. Willie said he’ll get us on that marquee.” Alex said nervously as he kicked pebbles across the sidewalk.

“This is going to work, right?” Reggie asked.

“It has to.” Luke mumbled, wincing seconds later when another shock hit them.

Two sharp pops cut through the air behind you and you all whipped around to see Willie and Teddy standing just a few feet away. Willie was watching you all carefully with concern written all over his face, his eyes lingering on Alex longer than anyone else. Teddy stood at the edge of the group, practically burning a hole in your face with his guilty stare.

“Are you guys okay?” Willie asked.

“Yeah, nothing we haven’t felt before.” Alex laughed awkwardly. “How’d it go?”

“Well, when the opening band wakes up, they’ll find their bus two hundred miles out of Vegas.” Willie said with a proud smile as he did a spin, showing off his stolen jacket with the band’s name across the back.

“With absolutely no chance of getting back in time.” Teddy added.

Luke gave Willie a fistbump and pointed up to the office above the Orpheum. “That means there’s probably a promoter up there freaking out right now.”

Willie grinned, sarcasm laced in his tone. “Nah, man. This is Hollywood. I’m sure he’s being very professional.”

You laughed and then Alex slowly inched forward, clearly struggling for the right words to say to Willie. You gave his arm a quick squeeze before following Reggie and Luke down the street to give them space. Before you even got halfway down the sidewalk, Teddy poofed next to you.

“You know, If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you don’t want to talk to me.” He joked.

“Teddy-”

"I just-I didn't want to leave things the way we did." He rambled. "I'm sorry, I should've told you everything that night in the diner-"

"Teddy, It's okay." You said. "You told me before Caleb could put the stamp on me, and you didn't know the details about the plan until after it was too late to help my friends. Plus, I know how much you're risking helping us now."

As soon as the words left your mouth, you felt some of the weight fall off your shoulders. You weren't sure why since the situation was still a little painful and awkward. But being around Teddy always made you feel a little like that kid who started working at the diner with Cece all those years ago. Besides, they were so alike that you found it hard to stay mad at him.

You held out your hand for Teddy to shake. "Despite everything, I'm glad we met."

“Likewise, Gorgeous,” Teddy said with a relieved smile as he grasped your hand. With a subtle wink, he nodded over towards where Luke was standing at the end of the street. “He’s a lucky guy.”

"What? How did you?-" You sputtered as he stepped away. You never told Teddy about Luke, or at least you didn't think you did.

Teddy just smirked in response before disappearing into the air. At the same time, you saw Willie skate away out of the corner of your eye, leaving Alex alone on the sidewalk.

You all phased next to him and Luke squeezed his shoulder reassuringly. "You okay, man?"

"Yeah. I'm good." Alex smiled slyly as he gestured to the office. "Looks like this show needs a new opening act though."

You grinned. "Let's go see if we can help with that."

-

When you got back to the studio, you found Julie pacing back and forth in the middle of the room as she wrung her hands together.

When you all poofed in, she immediately jumped into a load of questions, losing her breath halfway through and flailing her arms around.

"Whoa, just sit down," You laughed excitedly. "We'll tell you everything."

Julie took a gasping breath and plopped backwards onto the couch then stared at you all with expectant eyes. "Well?"

"It worked!" You announced. "Everything's fine."

"You should be getting the call...now!" Alex pointed to Julie’s phone on the table just as it started buzzing. You all cheered and Julie shushed you as she answered the call.

You heard a woman's voice say something through the phone and Julie gave a thumbs-up as she started jumping on the couch. You watched in amusement and mild horror as Luke and Reggie lifted Alex up into the air and spun him around.

Once he was back on the ground, Luke and Reggie made a beeline for you, each of them grabbed one of your arms and flipped you upside down over their shoulders.

You all spent the next twenty minutes laughing and screaming and Alex even got a little teary-eyed but you pretended not to notice. Then Julie called Flynn and ran off excitedly to decide her outfit for the night, leaving the four of you alone to plan out the setlist.

“Okay, so I’m thinking we start with Stand Tall.” Luke said excitedly as he wrote the words down in his songbook.

“Sounds good.” Reggie said, suddenly quiet.

“’Sounds good’? Guys, I wanna hear ‘That sounds awesome!” Luke reached out and nudged Reggie’s shoulder. “I know this isn’t the way we imagined any of this. But we need to be all in tonight. This is our second chance to play the Orpheum!”

“I get it.” Reggie sputtered. “But it’s hard. Do we even know what’s on the other side when we cross over? Do we still get to hang out together?”

You shifted your weight as the happy little bubble surrounding you popped. You had been so wrapped up in the excitement of finally playing the Orpheum that you almost forgot what tonight was really about.

“You guys are the only family I have.” Reggie’s eyes were glued to the piano as he played with his fingers. You reached out and locked his arm with yours in an attempt to comfort him.

“I don’t know what’s gonna happen either. But it’s not like we have a choice.” Alex said.

Suddenly, Reggie’s arm fell out of yours as all three boys fell back, clutching their sides.

“I’m pretty sure we do.” Reggie groaned. “And it rhymes with ‘Hollywood Ghost Club’.”

The garage doors creaked open and Julie appeared with a bright smile and a blue garment bag in her hand. When she saw your expressions, her smile fell. “What’s wrong?”

“We just got hit pretty hard by one of those jolts.” Alex said. “But we’re fine.”

“Oh, good.” She nodded, though she still looked on edge. “I’m nervous.”

“That makes two of us.” You said. “But we made it this far for a reason. We got this.”

“Can you ride there with me? I'm gonna need more pep-talk material for the drive there cause I still think I might puke.” Julie tucked her hair behind her ears.

“Of course, and don't worry, we’ll leave the windows open.” You joked, making everyone laugh.

The sound of a car horn cut through the air and Julie looked outside. "That's my dad. Are you ready, (Y/n)?"

You nodded. "Yeah, uh, give me a second. I'll meet you in the car."

As Julie disappeared behind the doors, you turned to the boys and sighed as you tried to soak up this moment. For all you knew, this could be the last little window of time you had alone with them before tonight.

Julie was a huge part of the band of course, but these were your boys. The ones who you started this all with, who had been by your side for everything.

From the look on all their faces, you could see that they were thinking the same thing.

Without saying a word, you launched yourself at Alex. He made a surprised noise but recovered quickly, throwing his arms around you and holding you tight.

"And I'm the emotional one?" He jokingly muttered in your ear and you pinched his side, making him jump back. "Rude."

As soon as your arms were open, Reggie stepped forward and hugged you so tightly that you were thankful to not need oxygen anymore because he was definitely crushing several vital organs.

You laughed and gave him one last squeeze before pulling away, locking eyes with Luke instantly.

Alex cleared his throat awkwardly and grabbed Reggie's shoulder, steering him over to Luke's songbook to 'check out the setlist again'.

"And then there were two." Luke joked.

You laughed and stepped into his waiting arms, making him laugh. You soaked up the feeling of comfort and familiarity for a minute before pulling away.

"This, uh, is for you," Luke said as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper. You knitted your eyebrows together in confusion as he handed it over. "I wanted you to have it in case...well, you know. If tonight doesn't work."

"It will." You said, trying to ignore the fact that it very well could happen. "You're not getting rid of me that easily, Patterson."

"I wouldn't dream of it." He quipped back, his voice sounding softer and less teasing than you would've expected. You pulled back from him and because you didn't know if you would ever get another chance, you stood on your tiptoes and planted a kiss on his cheek.

You moved away too fast to see his reaction but the gesture made the other two boys smirk at you as you dashed out of the doors, making a beeline for the car pulling out of the driveway.

-

The back rooms of the Orpheum were a maze.

You had left for a few minutes to walk around the venue and clear your head, trying to wring out the last of your nerves.

By the time you found your way back, you expected to find the rest of the band rushing to get ready in the dressing room. But all you saw was Julie anxiously pacing as she had been earlier, a habit she seemed to have inherited from both you and Alex.

“You okay?”

She snapped her head up towards you and sighed. “Yeah, just a little worried. The guys aren’t here yet.”

You looked around the room and then at the clock, frowning. The show was in less than half an hour and that was already cutting it close. Part of you wanted to go check on them but Julie seemed to need you more at the moment.

“Okay, well, give them another ten minutes. I'm sure they'll be here. They wouldn’t miss this…again.”

You ran your palm across the front of your pocket, feeling Luke's note next to your parent’s photo, and hoped you were right.

But then more and more time passed until the stage manager came to escort Julie to the stage.

"Just a second!" She calls out and then turns to you. "(Y/n), something's wrong. They were getting those jolts pretty hard before we left. They must've run out of time."

You shut your eyes tight as the words sunk in. All you could bring yourself now was, ‘This isn't what was supposed to happen.’

The world fell out from under your feet and you had trouble even standing up straight as you imagined what must've happened to them. Your best friends, your brothers, your family was gone and there wasn't anything you could do about it.

The guy knocked again, this time a little harder and with a nervous tone. Julie chewed her lip as she looked between you and the door and you could almost see the cloud of grief settling over her.

As hard as it was, you tried your best to shove your feelings down and marched up to Julie. There would be time to fall apart later, but you knew that this what they would want you to do. "Let's go do this for them, okay?"

She took a deep, shaky breath before hesitantly nodding. You followed closely behind her as she walked out the door though the halls until she reached the stage. You waited beside Flynn in the wing as Julie settled behind her microphone and addressed the crowd.

There were scattered claps from around the venue and then she took a deep breath before singing the opening.

After the first few lines, you took your cue and materialized at the center of the stage. The crowd gasped and cheered the way they always did, but you kept your eyes shut tight and focused on the music.

Just as the song started picking up, you heard a familiar pop in the air and then the sound of drumming. You whirled around to see Alex mounted onto a drum set at the back of the stage, twirling his drumsticks around and smiling like he had never been gone at all.

Once you got over the initial shock, you wanted to cry with relief. They were okay, they were here. Alex winked at you goofily, and you ran towards Julie’s keyboard.

She had started bouncing on the balls of her feet, both of you finally getting into the song now that they were coming back. You followed suit, dancing around the base of the drum set as yours and Julie’s voices came together.

Then Reggie appeared on the other side of Julie and you ran to his side. You bumped his shoulder with yours and he grinned, moving to stand back to back.

The song was ramping up to the chorus when a staticky noise cut through the air, not loud enough for the crowd to hear but enough to make you all look over to the other end of the stage.

You could see Luke's form fading in and out, a look of anguish on his face, and the pit in your stomach opened up again. The crowd was on the edge of their seats as Alex's drumming paused and Luke finally materialized to sing the opening of the chorus.

You didn't even know you were moving until you suddenly found yourself across the stage next to Luke, unable to stop smiling as you sang.

Julie joined you, throwing her arms up in the air happily and jumping around. Reggie appeared by her side, flashing the crowd a winning smile.

Alex stood up and gripped his mic as he sang this solo. You looked back at him and flashed him a proud smile, then whooping loudly when Reggie sang his lines.

You all went down the line hitting your notes until the chorus kicked in again and your heart felt so full you almost couldn't stand it. This was what you were so close to achieving before you died, it was all you had wanted for years, and you knew that if you hadn't died, that night would've changed your life. But this night was something even more special. Because you were all here, all together.

Even if it was just for one last song.

Julie caught your attention and nodded towards the platform that spread out into the crowd. You followed her to the center and stood back to back as everyone cheered.

The guys joined in on either side of you, Alex grabbing one of your hands and Luke holding the other. You all bowed to the audience before taking your cue and vanishing, leaving only Julie on stage.

You landed in the wing, feeling a little lightheaded and overwhelmed from all the emotions you had experienced in the last five minutes. The elated smile fading from your face when all three boys poofed by your side only to fall to the floor instantly.

“It didn’t work.” You said miserably as Julie emerged into the backstage area. She grabbed Flynn and whispered something to her, pointing in the direction of her family. Flynn nodded and disappeared into the crowd while Julie ran to your side.

You hauled Alex onto his feet, letting him lean on you to stay upright while Luke and Reggie trailed behind Julie as she led the group back to the dressing room. Once everyone was inside, they collapsed on the couch or the floor, loudly groaning in pain.

“What happened? Why didn’t it work?” Julie asked tearfully.

“I guess playing here wasn’t our unfinished business.” Alex said hollowly.

“Point Caleb.” Reggie muttered as he clung to the side of an armchair.

You stood frozen next to Julie as panic spread through your whole body, both of you flinching in sympathy as the shocks continued.

“You have to save yourselves right now.” Julie begged. “Join Caleb’s club. It’s better than not existing at all!”

“She’s right.” You managed to say, your voice shaky and almost giving out. Your stomach flipped at the thought of them having to work for an evil club owner forever, but the alternative was worse. “You guys need to go now! For me. For us.”

“We’re not going back there.” Reggie shook his head.

Luke pulled himself up and stumbled forward a little so that he was right in front of you. “No music is worth making if we’re not all making it together.”

You sighed sadly, thinking back to your conversation yesterday. “So no more regrets?”

Luke let out a deep sigh and then reached up and cupped your cheek with his right hand. “Just one.”

You furrowed your eyebrows in response and Luke blinked hard as if he was trying to find the words. "I never told you why I left that night."

"Luke, don't." You gave him a weak smile. "I get it."

"You do?" He asked.

You struggled to get the words out. "Yeah, I mean it was bound to happen eventually. We just got too close and it was weird for you. I understand t-”

"What?" Luke asked, cutting you off with a confused look. "No, no, that's not it at all. Read the-"

Before he could finish, you heard Julie gasp loudly from a few feet away. You looked over to see her stepping back from Alex with an awestruck look on her face as she gripped his forearms.

Wait, what?

Before you could even begin to process what you were seeing, Reggie was reaching out to Julie, who grabbed his wrist and hauled him up to his feet. The three of them stared at each other for a few seconds before Julie turned to you and Luke.

“Guys, come here.”

Alex reached out and pulled you into his side while Luke threw an arm around Reggie’s back and Julie brought you all in closer to her. At first, nothing happened. But then there was a faint buzzing sound and the boys lifted their wrist towards the ceiling and you all watched in awe as the stamp floated away in the blink of an eye.

“Whoa.” Reggie said, his eyes still glued to the ceiling. “I don’t feel as weak anymore.”

“Yeah, me neither.” Alex agreed. “Not that I ever was that weak in the first place.”

You rolled your eyes and let your head fall over on his shoulder. “What do you think that means?”

Luke smiled. “I think it means the band is back.”

It was quiet for a second before Alex looked at you all shyly. “You guys think we can try that hug thing again?”

You laughed as you huddled together again, sniffling and laughing. Then Julie yelled out that you had played the Orpheum and then you were all jumping around, still tangled in each other’s arms.

Eventually, you all broke apart and while the boys started chasing each other around, you turned to Julie. She looked into your eyes and immediately flew into your arms, muttering into your shoulder, “I always wanted a big sister.”

The words warmed your heart and you squeezed her extra hard, grateful that you actually could now. “Well, I’m honored.”

“My family's probably looking for me so..." Julie stepped back from your arms with the biggest smile you’d ever seen on her face, you jokingly bowed to her and she copied the gesture before disappearing behind the door.

You wiped the last of your tears out of your eyes and turned around to find Alex and Reggie were talking in whispers and wearing knowing smiles. When Alex saw you looking, he cleared his throat and nudged Reggie’s shoulder.

“Hey, Reg.” Alex said cheekily, not taking his eyes off of you for even a second. “I was going to check out the next band. You wanna come with me?”

“Sure!” Reggie started strolling towards the door, stopping only for a second to nudge your shoulder and whisper ‘don't do anything I wouldn’t do’ in your ear.

Alex fixed Luke with a pointed look over his shoulder and Reggie gave him a dorky wink before they poofed away. You smiled fondly at the space where they were just standing and awkwardly turned towards Luke.

“Hi.” You said, laughing awkwardly.

“Hi.” Luke muttered back as he stepped forward until he was close enough to grab your hand. “About what I was saying earlier…”

You opened your mouth to say something but he shook his head and pointed to your pocket. “Read it. Please.”

You tugged the note he had given you earlier out of your pocket and carefully folded it open to see that it wasn’t a note at all. It was the love song that Julie had found that day in the garage, the one that he didn’t want anyone to see. You struggled a little trying to decipher Luke's handwriting. The ink was a little smudged and the song was clearly unfinished but it was the most beautiful thing you had ever read. And he had written it for you.

"I didn't leave because we got too close," He said. "It was the opposite, (Y/n), I left because I was scared to lose you, and I know that doesn't make sense because I kind of did w-"

You carefully tucked the paper back in your pocket with one hand and grabbed the back of his neck with the other, pulling him down and closing the last bit of space between you.

Luke's brain short-circuited for a second before he started kissing back, grabbing your waist with enough force to nearly knock you both backwards. It was dizzying and a little desperate, yet weirdly familiar, as if you'd been kissing him your whole life.

Most moments with Luke felt like they were happening in slow motion, but this time it was like a high-speed movie montage of your whole lives. The stolen crayons, the time capsule, the pre performance pep talks, the smell of cinnamon, the ferris wheel, his jacket, the movie nights and songwriting sessions. All of it had led up to this moment.

"I love you." Luke said immediately after you pulled away. "God, I love you so much. I'm such an idiot. I'm sorry."

“Hey, it’s okay.” You laughed, blinking another wave of tears out of your eyes. “I should’ve told you forever ago instead of skirting around it.”

“And what is it that you should’ve told me?” He said teasingly and you rolled your eyes. You had gotten so used to Luke being so shut down or nervous around you that you almost forgot how much of a little shit he could be.

“That I love you too.” You said, unable to stop smiling.

Luke leaned down and captured your lips in another kiss, this time threading his fingers through your hair as he cupped your cheeks in his hands. “I’m never gonna get tired of hearing that.”

You bit your lip to keep another laugh from bubbling up as you looked up at him, feeling completely overwhelmed in the best way possible. "So...what now?"

"I don't know." Luke admitted. "But I know one thing."

"What's that?"

"That no matter where we go, or what we do," He pushed a piece of hair behind your ear. "In life, in death... I'm yours. Always."

-

The End

-

In Life, In Death Taglist:

@ifilwtmfc @instabull @wanniiieeee @tenaciousperfectionunknown @charliegillespiewife @merceret @itismeasmolpotato @lilostif16 @dangerouslyclose @iainttakingshitfromnobody @givemebooksorgivemedeath @sunsetcurvedotmp3 @askgeoff @mayleenicole5676 @puppy11148 @vampire7595 @wackyworrieruniverse @reallysparklychaos @lovelydaydreams15 @rachmmb @musicismyescape27 @stackie4ever​ @spidermankenobi

(Strikethrough means I can’t tag you)

JATP Taglist:

@caitsymichelle13 @sunsetcurvej​

Let me know if you want to be added!

[rowanaelinn]

Fire on Fire - Chapter Seven

chapter six / chapter eight

no one kills me after that, thank you very much <3

btw it’s midnight, i wrote that in two hours and it’s not edited so sorry in advance for that too

Rowan gently knelt down to put Aelin in the shower, her small arms let go of his neck to fall back by his side.

"I'm going to take your shirt off, is that okay?" Rowan asked gently, his voice barely louder than a whisper. She ignored him, her eyes fixed straight ahead with tears still streaming down her cheeks. "Aelin?"

Almost imperceptibly, she nodded. Rowan took the hem of her shirt and pulled it over her head, she raised her arms to help him but it seemed to take all her strength. She was only in her panties, sitting on the floor with her legs bent in front of her. She put her head on her knees, her arms around her legs as if it was going to protect her, as if she wanted to make herself as small as possible so that she could disappear.

"I'll be back in a second." He told her and went to his room to grab a shirt and a pair of boxers. He didn't know where she kept her clothes and he didn't want to invade her privacy any more than he already was. She hated him so the fact that he was going to see her naked was enough, she didn't need to know that he had gone through her underwear. He also took some water and towels to rapidly clean up the mess in her room.

The two minutes alone she had while Rowan was in his room and hers did nothing to calm her tremors. He took the shower palm and knelt down in front of her, she looked at him and for the first time, Rowan smiled at her. It wasn't a big smile or a pity smile, it was small and full of understanding. I know how that feels.

She didn't say anything but he could have sworn her body relaxed slightly. He turned on the water and adjusted the heat, not too hot but still (too) warm. He had noticed that she liked her shower hot because of the steam that came out of the bathroom every time she came out of the room.

The water splashed on his pants but he didn't care as he began to run the water over her arms and shoulders. She stayed still as she let Rowan take care of her, as she let the man who had been an absolute dick to her see her in her most vulnerable state.

He turned to access her back but what he saw made his heart stop for a second. Her back. That was the moment he realized he had never seen her back, no matter what he wore, it had always been covered and now he understood why.

There were two scars on the length of her spine, one at the top and one at the bottom, the same spine that wasn’t totally straight. Softly, he traced the shape of the first one and her entire body stiffened. “Please, don’t ask. Please,” Her voice was shaking and weak. Her back had been broken, he was sure of that. The scars could only have been caused by surgery. What the hell happened to her?

“I’m going to wash your hair now,” he only said and took all her hair in hand to wet them. They were soft, so soft that he may have spent more time than necessary to get them wet. He took his shampoo, not wanting to waste time looking at which of her bottles was shampoo. Gods, she brought so much product. Rowan only had shower gel and shampoo, thinking that's what everyone else had. Then Aelin Galathynius arrived, bringing shampoos, conditioners, hair care products, castor oil, and a bunch of other stuff he didn't even know the name of.

He ran some lotion through his hands and as gently as possible, he began to massage her head. She leaned her head to his touch and her breathing calmed down. Good.

He frowned as his fingers brushed against a piece of skin that did not feel the same as the others when touched. So that she wouldn't recognize his digging, Rowan looked at her scalp. A large scar was present on the right side of her head, hidden by her hair.

His breath caught, imagining all that could have happened to this woman. Quickly, his eyes searched for scars elsewhere on her body and he found a few on her arms, he couldn't see her legs from her position. The marks were not as large as those on her scalp or back but they were still there.

What the hell.

But she had asked him, begged him, not to say anything about her back so he would apply the same principle to the other scars.

He continued to massage her scalp, longer than necessary but she looked so rested that he didn't care. If it made her feel better, he would wash her hair all night.

After a few minutes, he pulled her hair back a little and gently rinsed her hair full of product. From this angle, he could see her cheeks and he noticed that there were no more tears on them, which was a good sign.

Quickly but still gently, he applied soap to her back and arms, not wanting to touch her where he would have to move her position. She had found a position where she felt safe and he would not take that away from her.

He turned off the water, rising above her and when he looked down, her eyes were already open. He'd looked at them too many times, blamed himself many times for that, but they fascinated him. Today, Rowan noticed that the blue of her eyes looked deeper and seemed to take up more space than usual. The gold was almost impossible to see. He was used to seeing the opposite, the gold grew whenever she was upset, making her eyes look like they were on fire.

He didn't smile, and neither did she. He knew that at the slightest sign of pity he would show, she would break again.

This type of breakdown she had today was not casual and he knew it, she didn't panic about her condition once and that proved Rowan right. She was used to it.

He wondered what her dreams had shown her tonight, what her mind had chosen to torture her with. It was at that moment that he regretted everything, regretted being the worst possible person around her. Not because he thought he had something to do with her condition, that kind of pain was deeper than mean words, but because maybe, if he had been a better person, she would have confided in him.

He had been so focused on pushing her away from his life that he had been blind to the possibility that he could just let her in. He shook his head, he was pushing people away for a reason. If he had any lesser friends, he would be alone now. Fenrys, Lorcan, Vaughan, Connall and now Aedion would never let him leave them, no matter how many times he had tried.

Rowan wondered if Aelin ever had anyone who fought for her the way his friends did. Sure, Dorian, Aedion, and Lysandra were here but did they notice every single thing Rowan noticed about her? Or were they wronged by her smile and the arrogance she used to hide her pain?

“Let’s get up, okay?” He said as he held his hands toward her. She looked at them and seemed to wonder what to do, he let her think, keeping the neutral expression on his face. After a few seconds of thinking, she let go of her legs and put both hands in his.

A surge of electricity passed through his body at that moment and Rowan was sure she felt it too. He used a little strength to make her stand up, her legs still a little weak. He took one of the towels and automatically Aelin raised her arms slightly, letting Rowan wrap it around her. He took another towel and had Aelin turn on herself, slowly, he began to rub her hair to dry it.

He took the opportunity to rub the towel lightly on the back of her neck and shoulders, helping her dry herself. She did nothing, just waited for time to pass, but Rowan saw that her gaze was no longer fixed on the horizon, lost in thought.

No, she was aware of what was going on around her, aware that he was there, and it didn't seem to make her uncomfortable. He left her the time, taking his hairbrush and start to untangle the small nodes that formed in the shower. It should have been more delicate.

He cringed when one of the knots didn't unravel directly, pulling Aelin's head back but she said nothing, letting him do it.

"I brought you something to wear," he said after he was done, she looked at him with a confused look before shaking her head slightly and nodding. Before he could do anything she dropped the towel that wrapped her body to the ground and removed her last piece of underwear. Rowan quickly turned around, giving her some privacy. It's not like there was anything sexual about seeing her this way, there was nothing attractive, he just wanted her to be comfortable.

“You don’t believe me,” her voice was flat, without any emotions in it. He turned his head with a frown to see her with his shirt on. It was huge for her, and he couldn’t help but appreciate the sigh. “For the scholarship.” She specified.

Well, that was random. He didn’t think about the conversation they had in the kitchen last morning at all. But if she was ready to talk, even if it was something as random as that, then he would talk. He shook his head, “I don’t, you’re right.”

“They don’t give scholarships to people like me.” No, they didn’t. “I told everyone I had one, and they believed me.”

“But it’s not true.” He said and she shook her head, confirming what he said. “How do you go to college, then?”

“My professor, Arobynn Hamel, pays for me.” Her voice was smaller than it had ever been. There was something about the way she said his name that bothered Rowan. He knew Arobynn Hamel, everyone did, he had read some of his books, he had even produced a quite good movie a few years ago. He also heard more than once Lysandra and Aelin talk about Professor Hamel.

“Why do you lie?” He asked her without judgment in his voice, only pure curiosity. It was weird for a professor to pay for a student that wasn’t one of his children, but Rowan remembered Aedion talking about Arobynn Hamel and Aelin knowing each other long before college, maybe he was a family friend? “Why lie when someone clearly cares about you enough to pay for your education? Your uncle and cousin are worried sick you’re going to lose that scholarship, you could make them feel better.”

She took a deep breath as if it was hard to speak. He was sure nobody knew what she had just told him, he could be okay with only one secret if she wanted to stop talking now. “Because the furthest they are from Arobynn, the safest they are.”

“What does that mean?” He asked but from the look on her face… She was done talking. She wouldn’t say anything more and it annoyed him, but he could respect that. “Let’s get you to bed,” he said and she nodded.

“Can you stay with me a little?” He knew how god damn hard it was to ask for help, but this little human being in front of him just did, she was strong enough to ask for something he never had the courage to ask in a decade. So he nodded, following her as she slipped in her bed, sitting at the end of it.

She had been honest with him tonight, more honest than she had been with anyone, it was only fair he was honest with her, too. “I had a nightmare,” he started. It was easier to speak without any lights on, even if he could feel her gaze burn his skin. “That’s how I heard you, I was already awake.”

She didn’t say anything for a moment, he even wondered if she wasn’t asleep. “What was your nightmare about?”

“You’ve got your secrets, I have mine, princess.” She laughed softly at that and he wanted to get on his knees to thank all the gods for that. It wasn’t a big, strong laugh, but it was one. One he would cherish.

“Are you okay?” She asked.

“No,” he said, honestly for the first time in his life. “You?”

“No,” her voice was quiet. “It’s weird. To answer that question truthfully. People don’t usually expect another answer than “yes” when they ask you how you are.”

“You’re right, they don’t.”

“I’m scared, Rowan. And my little trick to contain the fear isn’t working lately.”

“What trick?” He frowned even if she couldn’t see it. He felt her feet close to his leg under the comforter. He stood up, took her feet and the cover, and lifted them. He sat down again and this time Aelin's legs were on him.

“My name is Aelin Galathynius and I will not be afraid,” she whispered. He turned his head toward her, a brow raised and a small smile on his lip.

“So, you say that and it works?”

“I had the same conversation with someone a few years ago,” she laughed, moving to get comfortable and maybe to lean into his touch. “But yeah, it does. Or when it doesn’t I just laugh at myself.”

He just smiled at the dark, “Sleep, Aelin.”

“Can you stay tonight?” She asked. “I don’t want to be alone.”

As he squeezed her ankle he said “You don’t have to be alone anymore.”

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

It was still dark when Aelin woke up. The events of the night before came back to her mind with flashes, making her stand up suddenly. Rowan was lying in bed, the dim light of early dawn allowing Aelin to see his sleeping head tilted to the side.

What has she done?

What the hell has she done?

As quietly as possible she got up and grabbed a pair of sweatpants and her phone from the coffee table. She tiptoed out of the room, giving one last look to the man who had taken care of her yesterday after being a total bastard for almost two years. She didn't know what he wanted from her but she had already given and suffered too much. It wouldn't happen again.

She put on her shoes and went outside, starting to run. She listed in her head all the things she had confided in Rowan last night.

Arobynn, the scholarship, Sam's sentence...

You don't have to be alone anymore. What did it mean? She had been alone for years, no matter that she was in a room full of people, she was always alone.

Everything he said to her before last night, all the scornful looks he gave her... Everything she said...

Yesterday he told her he knew how it felt, did she hate him because he was a mirror of herself? Of the part of her that she hated the most?

She didn't care, continuing to run even though she was out of breath until she found herself in front of a familiar front door which she knocked on loudly for several seconds.

She had to run because she didn't know what was waiting for her in her room, didn't know what was going to happen. Yesterday changed things and Aelin hated change and she hated not knowing something.

The door opened and Aelin could see that he was surprised, she smiled at him but it did nothing to ease his confusion. "Aelin? What the hell are you doing here? Did you run? It's seven miles!"

"Can I crash here for a few days?" She asked out of breath. She didn’t know what she would do if he said no but she didn’t have to wonder about that for long.

He didn't hesitate before letting her into his little house. "It's your home too."

“Thank you, uncle Gav.” He smiled at her and kissed the crown of her head before she walked up the stairs to Aedion’s room. The moment her head hit the pillow she was out.

————

tag list:

@sheharahu // @morganofthewildfire // @thestoriesyoutell // @fromthelibraryofemilyj // @swankii-art-teacher // @itsforeverinnocent-blog // @becarefuloflove // @imnotsogoodatthis // @rowaelinismyotp // @a-court-of-milkandhoney // @feysand-loml // @surielandiareendgame // @live-the-fangirl-life // @story-scribbler // @loves-books // @fangirlprincess09 // @theysayitscrazy