#you can clearly see he’s feeling himself and i love that too

[littlegaybean1]

Not to go too analytical here, but that's exactly what I'm going to do.

See, that last gif of Buck and international treasure Christopher Diaz is of a scenario where typically the roles 'should' be reversed. That's the scene where Buck is telling Chris that his father got shot. But instead of Buck comforting Chris, as would be considered the more normal thing to happen here, it's the other way around. Buck later says that he should have held it together, but looking through the other GIFs and just thinking about the general context, is it really surprising that Buck broke down?

Think about it. Buck is, as dubbed by Bobby 'the guy who likes to fix things'. He always makes sure everyone else is okay before addressing his own issues, and sometimes he never does. Eddie got shot right in front of Buck. They were only about a metre or two apart, it could so easily have been him instead. Buck, being Buck, believes that it 'would have been better... If I'd been the one who got shot'. He's very clearly showing signs of survivor's guilt. And then, after that, he has to tell his best friend's son that he's not coming home tonight, maybe not ever. He has to say that to a child who has already lost his mother.

And here's the crucial part, the part that is summed up in the original post nicely: nobody checked to make sure Buck was okay.

They were so worried about Eddie that you never actually see Buck get any sort of comfort from anyone. He was barely holding himself together as it was, and his coping mechanism is to push it down and act like he's okay. He kept it all in, which of course can only ever lead to it bursting out. So when, on top of all the pain and stress and fear he's experiencing, he has to go and tell Christopher - a child he already feels like he's failed due to the tsunami - that he might be about to lose his father. And Buck loves them both, Eddie and Christopher, so much and so from his perspective he might be about to lose them both.

And it all comes out.

Then there's Chris, who has already lost so much for someone so young, who understands much more about the situation than anyone his age should. But in that moment, his first priority is to comfort Buck, his father's best friend who is practically family at that point. Nobody else had thought to comfort Buck, not any of the firefighters who have all suffered losses and know how to cope, none of the adults who knew far more of what Buck had been through, just a ten(?) year old boy.

Somebody please give Buck a hug. Literally anyone. I do not care who. Just someone comfort that poor guy.

Thinking about comfort hugs.

Comforting Bobby.

Comforting Maddie.

Comfort Eddie.

Comforting Chim.

Comforting Hen.

And then there's Buck.

Here's a hug, but he's comforting Maddie.

No one even touched him until he collapsed, and then they're just holding him up. He can barely grip Hen's arm.

Bobby drags him back and lets go just as Buck breaks down.

And then there's this MVP.

[gay-dorito-dust]

Could we please have a batboys (and Bruce) x reader who can break the 4th wall?

This was rubbish.

Dick

Would rest his head on your shoulder and ask. ‘Who are you talking to sweetheart?’

He genuinely wants to know considering the first thing he heard was you talking back his beautiful back and perfect thighs, only to find that you were saying all this to no one in particular.

‘Oh just the lovely people reading this.’ You tell him happily and Dick would only see the walls of your shared room.

‘And what are they saying?’ Dick would then say.

‘Oh I can’t hear them, nor can I really see them exactly but I just have this feeling that we are being watched -or read in this case- by many people, I can sense them and i want them to feel included in my love life with the most beautiful man Gotham has to offer.’ You tell him as you kiss him on the cheek, making him smile.

‘Well as long as they know that I am taken by you, then we’ll be okay.’ Dick replied as he kissed your forehead sweetly. Dick at first though you were just the type to talk to yourself like some people, but seeing as how it seemed as though you were more or less addressing someone rather then just talking to yourself, Dick then assumed that you might have an ability that allows you to look past this reality and into another one entirely that might be looking into this one.

It was a scary thought to think that he was being watched ,or read as you put it, by another reality but it was intriguing nonetheless the less that there was a possibility of multiple dimensions. So he could only imagine what you were able to experience if you were able to see beyond this reality to address people who probably saw him in a different form entirely.

If anything he’s extremely curious as to how your ability worked exactly as it was something that was clearly unheard of. Somedays you would address the audience as per usual but other times you didn’t address them at all, almost as though you knew where and when they’ll pay attention to you both: all so that you could entertain them for as long as possible without it coming across as excessive or too long winded.

He would try to act like he could see them too as to not have you feeling so alone, but would get flustered when you tell him that he was looking the wrong way.

He’ll leave the fourth wall breaking to you instead and will be nosy and ask all sorts of questions about your ability, all before saying that your powers was the most coolest he’s come across, but you knew he was only saying that because you were his beloved partner but that didn’t make what he said any less true.

Jason

Would raise a brow at first but would keep this tendency to himself out of a need to protect you from those who’d gladly send you away for such tendency.

Jason isn’t phased by much but you talking to a wall as though someone was there brought a weird feeling to his chest.

‘His thighs? Perfect. His stomach and autopsy scars? Delicious. Arms, hands and back? Gorgeous but all of you at home are already aware of that and could only imagine how plush his tits are-‘

‘Who are you talking to chipmunk?’ He’d ask, cutting you off as he expected you to be on the phone to someone, so imagine to his surprise when he saw your phone on charge and you were in fact talking to thin air.

‘Just the people thirsting after you.’ You’d reply as though it was common sense.

‘Thirsting?’ Jason tried the word, not liking how it sounded coming from his mouth. ‘What’s that?’

‘Just think of it as another word for desire, but they can’t have you because in their reality you’re a fictional character who gets the short end of the stick constantly by people who don’t know what to do with you in general.’ You shrugged as you looked over at him with a smile. ‘Also you get stereotyped as someone you’re not by people who obviously lack a capacity for reading given how short their attention span is.’ The last part was muttered under your breath before bringing the conversation back to him.

‘Enough about me how about you honey?’

It wasn’t the first time you’ve done this and Jason knew it wouldn’t be the last either as he would find you passionately ranting to your invisible audience about something, and while it was cute to watch you be this passionate, he also became concerned for you in case you were going through something that you didn’t want to burden him with out of a need to protect yourself.

‘You can tell me if you’re going through something you know that right?’ He’d tell you one night as he holds your face in his hands.

‘Of course I do jaybird,’ you whispered to him before watching him as he fell asleep, only to move your head elsewhere to speak to the wall. ‘Isn’t he the cutest? Truly a man unlike any other, a dying breed if you will, but I can assure you dear readers that you too will find your Jason Todd because that’s what you all deserve in life is to be loved deeply by an non-judgmental and caring man.’ You fished before joining him in your sleep.

Tim

He thinks your maladaptive daydreaming.

What else was he meant to take away from you talking to seemingly no one so passionately as you did in that moment.

He didn’t want to say that you were insane but it wasn’t everyday where a sane person would idly make conversation with thin air or a brick wall as casually as you did.

That or you were extremely lacking in sleep and were now seeing things, if that was the case then he would be able to relate to you as he had those types of days also, more often then others that’s for sure but from what Tim could tell was far from the truth as you looked bright and too well rested for that to be the answer.

And honestly? He doesn’t want to know who exactly you were talking to as not to frighting himself shitless and would act as though you talking to a crowd of no one within your shared room was completely normal in Gotham.

God forbid you start talking to this unseen audience during the night, Tim will think he’s in some sort of horror movie that he was forced to watch with the rest of his family on Halloween. Seriously who knew fourth wall breaking could come across as though you were demonically possessed?

He wants to ask who you’re talking to, he really does but if he was running low on fumes that day, really tired and wanting nothing more then sleep he would forgo all logic and just agree with what you were saying to thin air.

‘I wish I could tell you just how mean Tim can be when he’s sleep deprived, you think you know sarcasm? Wait until Tim is on about two hours of sleep and then you’ll know true sarcasm.’ You’d say.

‘Says the one who’s talking to the wall as though it had ears to listen or a mouth to respond.’ He’d replied.

‘See what Im on about? Absolutely mean when he’s sleep deprived.’ He would hear you whisper aloud but he was on the verge of falling asleep against the table to find out the true reason to your uncanny ability to break the fourth wall.

Damian

Genuinely thought something was off with how often you would look off into the distance, as though you were addressing someone he couldn’t see, like a hidden camera that lead to an unseen audience.

‘Isn’t he the cutest when he’s acting all tough,’ he’d her you say, ‘it’s like if you give a rabid chihuahua a knife but ten times worse because he can actually back up his deeply descriptive threats.’ Damian’s brow would raise at this as he watched you silently as his mind wondered who you could possibly be entertaining with such things.

Gotham has an ability to make the most strong minded person break and needles to say Damian would keep silent watch over you while you had these kinds of episodes, even when you would proudly praise his artistic skills but never to him directly, but more so to seemingly thin air with a beaming smile.

‘He’s got a future as many things and in all honestly I’m envious of how multitalented my Dami is, but at least I get to be his hype man and cheer for him no matter what, which is something I bet half of you which you could have but here I am loving your fantasy!’ You’d finish with a cackle and it left Damian smiling to himself at your pride towards him, but also still very curious as to who it was you were talking to.

‘Who are you talking to.’ He would ask you one day.

‘The audience reading this fic.’ You’d reply as though it was the most casual thing to bring up in conversation.

Damian’s brows furrowed. ‘Audience? What audience.’ He tried looking in the same direction as you, only to see nothing but his bed.

‘Oh I don’t expect you to see them but they are there,’ you tried to reassure Damian but it only came off as ominous and albeit cryptic, ‘they are always there, watching.’ You’d add and needles to say your words only made Damian go into a defensive posture at the aspect of being spectated by beings only you could seemingly engage with.

Well done you’ve made Damian somewhat paranoid as to what this audience you speak to wanted, what they wanted with you to have you keep engaging in conversation with them and what they could be planning.

‘Always watching?’ Damian asked.

‘Yep,’ you replied, ‘but not when we’re in the bathroom, that’s just really weird but other then that we are merely entertainment for them to consume on days of boredom and to grow a parasocial relationship with us to their leisure.’ You added and when you looked over at Damian, his jade eyes were wide and you winced internally, wishing you hadn’t said anything at all because now you’d knew Damian would start reaching for his sword out of instinct now.

Try and tell him it’s a joke as much as you like but Damian would now take your ability to break the fourth wall as a sign that someone was out there, watching all of you, an invisible enemy that he couldn’t kill and it pissed him off. He’ll break you free of the curse…sooner or later.

Bruce

‘That man is finer than a mother fucker and he knows it. And I know damn well all you thirsty bitches are making edits of my sexy Bruce to the song of older by Isabel LaRosa. I just know it you absolute sluts, but I can’t blame you because I would too.’ Bruce had just finished showering and the first thing he sees is you seemingly talking to a wall as though you were talking to a group of people in a whole different plan of existence.

He’s seen a lot of things in his time as Batman but someone talking to people who aren’t there? He’d assume you’re either clairvoyant or have another ability that can allow you to talk to an audience of people whom he can’t see, for whatever it was wouldn’t change Bruce’s opinion on you, powers or not.

‘My darling.’ He’d greet you as he holds you from behind. ‘May I ask why and or who you were speaking so passionately about me to?’ He adds.

‘The people reading this fanfic.’ You’d tell him as though it was a completely normal thing to admit as it was something you had been doing for as long as you could remember. Your parents thought you were talking to an invisible friend like other kids your age, but it grew concerning when you were still talking to no one in particular well into your late teens.

Bruce just raised a brow but would assume that you had some ability that you weren’t comfortable to admit to him, and he didn’t want you to feel pressured to talk to him about such a thing, especially not if you had admitted to someone in the past before and their reactions were negative.

He would just try and look deeper into this sort of thing in hopes of finding any pre-existing information about anyone showing similar signs as you and reading it deeply and intensively so that he could be well informed to know what you were going through. Bruce loves to be educated on things that he didn’t understand with the hopes of understanding it on a deeper level, so if he did managed to find something that perfectly describes what you were doing, then he’ll be reading it until he could recite it in his sleep.

He didn’t want you to feel as though you should be ashamed of your unique ability and would often take notes and things that he’d noticed you do as you addressed the invisible audiences in vivid detail. Your ability to see into another reality or anything similar to talk to people was a powerful thing to have and Bruce was fascinated by such a unique power, a power that could prove that alternate realities exist.

But Bruce would find himself intrigued with how you talked to this invisible audiences, almost as though you were greeting an old friend, whether or not this was your way to cope with the fact that you could sense an audience watching your every move and leave no privacy to be had for yourself. It was unfortunately something Bruce wasn’t quite sure but until your ability was causing you harm he would contour to watch and observe while acting as though he was unaware/ unfazed of your tendency to talking to seemingly no one.

Basically reader: you should know this too

[senigami-yltsom]

Miss July, you’ve done it again

To start, I love how you catch the reader up with the vibe of the day we’ve been having in such simple yet effective ways. The tedious interruptions and misfortunes piling up minute by minute, leading us to really being right there with reader, curled up on the couch and exhausted.

The readers actions/thoughts also feel very real. Her wanting to throw her phone but not because it wouldn’t be worth the damage, leaving the phone on the ground when it got to be too much effort to get it…

This fic also does a really nice job establishing where in the relationship the two are without saying it too directly. Hinting at it with their dialogue and tone towards each other went a long way.

Jason’s “…not even me?” broke my heart omg. I can picture that so clearly coming from him and also hearing it from the readers side.

“It’s one hour after your phone call, and at the first knock, you know who it is. Who else could it be? With that soft, somewhat hesitant, one-knuckle rap on the door. Only one person knocks on your door like that.”

I’m having trouble verbalizing why I love this but I do. That’s so—that’s so jason. That paragraph shows a deep understanding of your characters and their relationship, not only within just the context of the two of them, but their relationship with others as well.

“”I think—” he cuts himself off, free hand coming up to rub the back of his neck. Then he drops his hand and sighs. “I’m sorry. This was a bad idea. You told me not to come here and I ignored you, but I thought…” he trails off, probably hoping you’ll say something so he can gauge your reaction.”

He’s so awkward and scared to be in love I love him. The way you wrote him is so sweet and thoughtful, I think it’s a very accurate take on what jason would be like in love. Not to mention, I can see all of it playing out like in a movie—you do that really well.

Ugh he’s such a loverboy deep down and you did an amazing job representing that side of him here.

dark chocolate cherry

i want to bring you flowers from the mountains, bluebells, dark hazels, and rustic baskets of kisses. i want to do with you what spring does with the cherry trees.

or; your boyfriend shows up when you just want some alone time [3.2k]

jason todd x fem!reader; reader gets her period and describes painful symptoms; just fluff; jason "words don't come easy so here's acts of service" todd this is supposed to be earlier in the relationship which is why he's still a little shy but i think she knows he's red hood? idk man. i was just going with it; can you guess what inspired this? (everything is awful)

The day started at 2 AM when you woke to shooting pains in your abdomen and blood everywhere. It continued until 2:45 while you cleaned yourself, changed clothes, put on a fresh pad, took some painkillers, and changed the sheets. It paused for about an hour until you woke up again at 4:00, courtesy of Gotham’s patented night-life that had taught you to completely tune out the sound of police sirens. Tonight, however, they weren’t tuning out.

The sirens quieted at 4:10, by which angry tears collected in the corners of your eyes as you flopped around in bed in an attempt to get comfortable. No matter what you did, there was always something wrong; the pillow was too hard, the blanket was too scratchy, the position hurt your arm.

From 4:11 to 4:12, you screamed into your pillow.

By 4:15 you had settled in front of the TV with a bowl of dry cereal (it took everything in you not to cry over the lack of milk in your fridge), a heating pad, and your favorite comfort show queued up.

At 8 AM you managed to drag yourself to work, where you half-assed the day’s tasks, took a 15-minute break to cry in your car, then dipped out a half-hour early.

Now, at 5 PM on a Friday evening, you’re curled into the fetal position in front of your TV with your comfort show resumed and your trusty heating pad cranked to the highest setting. Prepared to spend the entire night here, you already changed into pajamas and kept a couple blankets within reach. Your phone buzzes on the coffee table, and you stretch to reach it, careful not to lose your comfortable position or roll off the couch.

Jason About to leave Be there in 20

You groan out loud. You want to throw your phone across the room, but decide against it because no amount of hormones from hell are worth six hundred dollars. You’re still angry, though, for being so stupid as to forget about the date you had planned for tonight. Scrolling up to earlier messages, you see another text from today wishing you a good morning and telling you he was excited to see you tonight. But, too down to bother checking any messages today, you had missed it.

You I can’t tonight anymore I’m sorry I don’t feel great

After hitting send, you place your phone on the ground, not even having the energy to reach for the coffee table again. Or the energy to lift your arm back up, apparently, given how it hangs limply over the edge of the couch. You feel guilty about cancelling, but you are in no state to go out tonight. You’re used to the symptoms of your period hitting so hard. As much as you and Jason care about each other, you’re not sure you’re ready for him to see you like this. You’ve managed to plan your relationship around your hormone cycle so far, but today it came early.

Your phone’s buzzing is muffled by the rug, and you almost don’t hear it. Jason’s photo is displayed on the screen.

Your hanging hand clicks ‘answer’ and puts it on speaker so you can take the call without moving from how you're curled up.

“Is everything okay? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, I’m fine, I just don’t feel up for going out tonight. I’d rather stay home.”

“Did something happen?”

“No, I just got my period so I’m not really in the mood.”

“Okay, we can stay in tonight. What do you feel like eating? I can pick something up.”

“No, Jason…I want to stay home alone tonight.”

There’s a beat of silence on the other end of the line.

“Okay…did I do something?” His voice comes out a little smaller.

“No, you’re fine, I promise. I just don’t feel like seeing anyone right now.”

“…Not even me?”

Your hand presses against your temples to soothe the building tension headache. The self-doubt in his tone brings the anguish of the entire day bubbling up your throat. You feel like the worst person in the world. Exactly how you don’t want him to see you.

“Jason…it’s not you. I just…I feel like shit right now, honestly. Everything hurts, I’m miserable and sad and angry at everything, I’m breaking out all over.” You feel yourself welling up at all these little stresses coming out. “I’m craving everything but feel too sick to eat anything…I feel pretty disgusting right now, and frankly, I don’t want you to see me like this.” You finish your rant with a sniffle. You wipe your nose, trying to hold back the sob that’s threatening to break through. But at his silence, your worst, most improbable fears claw their way to the surface: he hates you now. You scared him away. You exhale heavily into your sleeve as more tears spill.

The phone is quiet for a long moment.  Then; “I could never find you disgusting,” he says, gently. “But if that’s what you want, then we’ll reschedule.”

“Thank you. And sorry.”

He speaks with a tone you can’t quite parse. “Don’t apologize. Just feel better.”

-

-

-

It’s one hour after your phone call, and at the first knock, you know who it is. Who else could it be? With that soft, somewhat hesitant, one-knuckle rap on the door. Only one person knocks on your door like that.

“Jason, I told you not to come here,” you say a little more cutting than you intend to, but your back and shoulders feel like they’re about to snap under a phantom pressure and the frustration of your request being outright ignored leaves a burning bitterness that channels itself into a violent wrenching open of the door.

He jumps a little at the abruptness of your greeting. One look at your face and he visibly deflates.

“I’m sorry…I know you said not to come, but…” his gaze casts downward to his hands. You follow; he’s clutching a reusable grocery bag. Peeking out of the top is a gallon of Neapolitan ice cream. The ice cream carton’s condensation seeped through a small patch of the cloth bag and dripped onto the other items; a bushel of greens, among some other fruits and vegetables, as well as a parcel of brown paper that was fastened closed with a twine string. You return your gaze to his face.

“I think—” he cuts himself off, free hand coming up to rub the back of his neck. Then he drops his hand and sighs. “I’m sorry. This was a bad idea. You told me not to come here and I ignored you, but I thought…” he trails off, probably hoping you’ll say something so he can gauge your reaction.

You just stare at him.

He shifts his weight back and forth. His hand twitches.

“Okay, yeah, I’ll—”

Then, you burst into tears.

Jason’s eyes widen. He reaches out to touch you, then stops himself. “Oh, fuck, I’m sorry! I’m sorry, this was stupid. Please stop crying, I’m so sorry—” He’s panicked, trying to calm you down with apologies and soothing assurances that he will leave immediately and never go against your wishes again. All the while you stand in the doorway, blubbering like a toddler with a skinned knee, new tears forming faster than you can wipe the old ones away.

He once again raises a hand towards you, before it stutters, then clenches into a fist as if it takes all his strength to fight against the instinct to be close to you, fighting against the string that tethers him to you. He drags his hand down his face, then it falls back to his side.

“Okay, I—I’m leaving now. I’m leaving. Do you…want this?” He holds the bag out to you.

With it now in front of you, its further contents are visible. You manage to tamp down your tears enough to get a few words out.

“Did you—hic—buy me groceries?”

“Yeah…” There’s a wince in his tone, as if he’s only now realizing that his gesture is not translating as he intended.

You look back up at him with pursed lips and knitted brows, sniffling. Sure, the ice cream you can understand, but…you have no idea what to make of the rest.

The bag drops back to his side. “I figured…it’s just— it’s the stuff that you’re supposed to—” He strokes his palm over his mouth, eyes screwing shut for a moment. He huffs at himself, then continues. “I mean I’m sure you already know all of this, so maybe you already have all these things, and now I’m realizing how unnecessary all this was, and I shouldn’t have assumed—”

“Jason,” you say. Your upset has since been overshadowed by something else, though you can’t tell what it is. And your crying has stopped, but its lingering effects have you feeling congested and a little foggy. You’re half expecting this to be a fever dream that you’re moments away from waking up from in a cold sweat.

“—because obviously you know what helps you feel better much more than I do—”

“Jason.”

“And you— yeah?” His eyes are a little harried when they find yours again. But off your tired and still-confused look, he gets the message and collects himself.

“Right, yeah, I just thought that…maybe I could bring you some of the stuff with all those minerals that are supposed to help women when they’re…menstruating.” He briefly breaks eye contact at the end of his sentence, red rouge creeping up his neck.

You can’t help it; you start to giggle. You can’t remember the last time you heard a man use the term ‘menstruating’ in a non-medical context. And the fact that he’s so shy about it— upset as you may be (though not at him), there’s no denying how adorable your boyfriend is. His head shoots back to you as your laughter intensifies. He blushes harder.

“It’s not that funny,” he mutters.

You step away from the door, finally closing the space between you, and wrap your arms around his torso. Your head nestles into his chest. He gently drops the grocery bag on the ground and reciprocates your hug. He rests his chin on your head, which fits perfectly under his. Like two puzzle pieces clicking into place. You breathe him in.

“Sorry I’m such a mess,” you murmur into his shirt.

He breathes into your hair. “You have nothing to apologize for. And you’re not a mess.”

You look up, chin resting in the space between his collarbones. He looks down at you with a small smile, but some wariness is still etched into his features. Fear of unwittingly upsetting you again. He brings up a hand to push some hair out of your face and tuck it behind your ear. His hand remains there, toying with the hair that falls below your shoulder.

"Thank you for the food,” you whisper. The moment feels too intimate to speak any other way.

“I’m sorry for not listening to you. I just…” He imitates your quietness, like his admission is also too vulnerable to say loudly. “I really wanted to see you. And I hated the idea of you feeling bad about yourself, or being in pain. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

Your eyes feel wet again. The first instinct is to hide your face, maybe press it to his chest once more. But, for some reason, you don’t. You want him to see you like this, messy and emotional and upset. You want him to see every part of you, and you want to see every part of him, the good and the bad.

“You didn’t.” A tear slips past the effort to keep it at bay. He shows no reaction to it, eyes never leaving yours, other than a quick swiping away with his thumb. “No one’s ever done anything like this for me before. That’s why I was crying. Not because you showed up.”

“That doesn’t seem right. This is nothing. You deserve even more.”

With no words to fully, adequately communicate the blooming in your chest, you stand on your toes, reaching up to him for a kiss. But given his stature, your lips only reach his chin and brush over its underside.

At your quiet whine, he chuckles and leans down to meet you in the middle. The kiss is soft; filled with the innocence of fresh blossoms in the spring, and the sweetness of its borne fruit.

You pull away when a vicious cramp roots you back to the present. Your limps tighten around Jason with a groan.

“I need to go back inside. I’ve been away from my heating pad for too long.”

His shoulders sag when you step away from him. “Oh, um…do you still…want me to leave?”

With a simple exhale of humorous disbelief, you grasp his hand in yours and tug him to your front door. He’s like an excited puppy, eyes brightened and perking up as he grabs the grocery bag and happily trails after you.

He goes straight to the kitchen, pulling out a chair at the counter for you to settle into, then sets the bag on the counter. The ice cream carton has dampened most of the cloth by now, and likely the rest of its contents, but rather than attending to the groceries, his first action is retrieving your heating pad from where it rests on the couch. He unplugs it from the wall outlet and brings it to you. You curl up on the chair with it pressed flat against your lower stomach. It only takes a minute for the pressure in your hips to abate.

Then he moves to the groceries. The ice cream immediately goes in the freezer, and he unloads what’s remaining onto the counter, one by one, and you take note of each item. There’s spinach, carrots, apples, oranges, dark chocolate, some kind of meat wrapped in brown paper, and, strangely enough, an entire block of cheese.

You give him a quizzical look, picking it up to read the label. “You got me…cheddar cheese?”

He retrieves a cutting board and knife from its spot next to the sink, then takes the cheese from you. “Good for certain symptoms.” He slices open the plastic wrapping and cuts out some cubes with skilled efficiency. He does the same with an apple. “They all are,” he says, referring to his entire haul. He completes the makeshift charcuterie board with a couple squares of dark chocolate and slides it across the counter.

You look down at the cutting board, thinking about everything he’s done for you; everything you never even had to ask for. The words sit on your tongue, encaged by your clenched teeth; an admission that coils itself around your spine and squeezes tight, restricts your breathing and pumps your heart at thrice its speed. But you feel yourself welling up again, and the first bout of tears already exhausted you so much that all you can manage is, “I don’t know what to do with all this. I don’t have the energy to make anything good.”

But he just smiles and says, “That’s what I’m here for, honey. Can I make you something?”

You nod. He gets to work. The immediacy of his actions, how he takes no time to decide on a dish or find a recipe, makes you think his previously stated intentions of ‘just dropping this off’ were less genuine than he lead you to believe. Nevertheless, you munch on the snacks he laid out for you and watch him work. The cheese and apples are a surprisingly cohesive combination, the meshing of sweet crispiness and savory creaminess eliciting a contented sigh from you. You try to ignore the way Jason smirks in the corner of your periphery. The chocolate is incredible, yet unfamiliar. You read the label on the packaging: 80% Dark Chocolate with Cherry and Almond Filling. Even if you hadn’t tasted it yet, the quality of the packaging itself would have been enough to let you know that this chocolate is extremely high-quality. Like, special-order-from-Europe quality. Not stop-at-the-grocery-store-on-the-way-home quality.

“Where is this from? Did you buy this today?” You ask him through a mouthful of the rich, melting chocolate.

He doesn’t look up from the carrots he’s dicing. “Uh…no.”

Anyone else would attribute his avoidance of eye-contact to standard kitchen-knife caution. You are not anyone else. You could blindfold him, spin him around ten times, put a sharp knife in his hand, and he could still pull off a perfect julienne. You look closer. His cheeks are dusted with pink.

You let out a laugh. “Jason, you’re not embarrassed about liking fancy chocolate, are you?”

“No! Not at all,” he says, ceasing his chopping. He looks up, but not quite at you.

“Then?”

“‘Then’ what?” He asks.

“Then why are you being so shifty right now?” You try to catch his gaze.

“I’m not!” He defends. “It’s just chocolate! Do you like it? I’ll bring you more.” He’s stealthy with the way he avoids your eyes; you almost can’t notice how hard he’s trying not to make eye contact.

“Jason!” You reach across the counter, having to rise off the chair slightly, and take his face in your hands, making him look at you. When he does, he wears a sheepish smile.

“It’s…” His removes your hands from his face, holding them in his. He mumbles something, turning his head to the side. But you catch the tail end of it, a goading grin already creeping up your face.

“What was that?” You tilt your ear towards him, exaggerating the action.

“It’s Bruce’s.” He, in turn, exaggerates the enunciation, rolling his eyes at your simpering. “I…found it. In his pantry one day. And I liked it, so I took it. And then I…kept taking it. Every time I visited.”

You pout teasingly. “And you’re ashamed to admit that you think he has good taste in something?”

He doesn’t say anything, only hiding his face in his shoulder. You pull on your intertwined hands and he gets the message, skirting around the kitchen counter to come closer.

“You are so adorable, you know that?” You say. You reach up and pinch his cheeks. He swats your hands away, but there’s no mistaking his broad, childish grin for anything but affection.

He breaks off another square from the chocolate bar and holds it to your lips. You bite off a small portion, then push it back to him. He takes the remaining piece in his mouth and his eyes close for a brief moment as he savors the sweet, tart, and nutty flavors. You simply watch, entranced by him. Then, he kisses you. You lean into it, hands sliding up his shirt to grip the fabric and bring him even closer. His hold finds your waist.

He tastes like cherries and dark chocolate.

He breaks the kiss to rest his forehead on yours, and you want to tell him that. That, and so much more. But from the look on his face, the way his eyes find yours and the tips of his ears have a similar heat to the one in your chest, you can tell he already knows.

when it comes to jason's post-pit-repressed-teenager characterization (aka despite being older he's still as inexperienced and confused and insecure about the world outside of vigilantism and w/ women as a 15 y/o would be) (aka my favorite characterization tee hee), i think that he's mature about periods, knows they're normal and not gross or shameful etc, but still gets shy about saying the actual word, for no other reason than the 'shy around women' part always makes me giggle

also bruce is keeping the chocolate stocked specifically because he knows jason likes it and will keep taking it because he loves his son even if his son doesn't love him (he does he's just in his angsty teen 'i hate this family you don't understand me' phase rn)

divider is from here

quote at the beginning is pablo neruda <3

[judes-hoe]

Too Long ~ JB5

Genre ~ smut(18+), little fluff

Summary ~ you and Jude can’t keep your hands off each other at a family dinner. So Denise makes you sleep in separate rooms.

Warnings ~ p in v(unprotected), denial, caught,

A/N ~ here you go my anon that wanted this🩷🩷 (also I am NOT making Denise seem mean, i clearly state in the fic she does it because family is over and she wants you both to be respectful. Please do not come at me I’m just doing what anon wanted!!!)

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

You and jude were staying at his parent’s house for the weekend, because Denise and marks family were coming over on Saturday for a big family dinner. Yet you and Jude always had a little problem with keeping your hands to yourself.

Denise often giving warnings glances throughout the day. Making you sit at opposite sides of the couch with family between you both. Though you would just text each other, giggling to yourself. Then she took your phones… Denise was a cruel woman…but you loved her to bits.

Denise never does this, she is only doing it now due to all family being here and wants you and Jude to be respectful. Everyone gathered around the table, Denise letting you and Jude sit together as long as you behaved.

Not even 3 minutes in, Jude had to put a hand on your thigh. You had to bite back a smile. Dinner went by, you and Jude trying to do subtle touches. Before Denise gave a glare and nods to the kitchen. You and Jude look at each other knowing you’re in trouble.

You and Jude stood in the kitchen looking at Denise who had her arms crossed. “You two, how many times!” She asked. “Sorry, we can’t help it!” Jude said to his mother. “We love each other.” He whispered. “I get that Jude, but all I’m asking is for you guys to not be on each other eating your faces off.” She said.

“Ok…we’ll calm down.” He said. “And you’re sleeping in different rooms tonight, your aunt and uncle are staying the night and I don’t need them possibly hearing you both.” She said in a slightly embarrassed tone.

“Okay mom.” Jude said with no point in arguing. “Okay Denise.”

The night finished in a blur, Jude going to his room. You going to the room all the way down the hall. You sat there looking at the ceiling, playing on your phone a little. You always had trouble sleeping if Jude wasn’t near. Except it was in your guys bed back in your apartment in Madrid.

You checked your phone and it reads 1:35am. You sigh and look around the dark room. You hear a soft knock on the door. “Yes?” You whispered. You see the door open and a tall figure walk in. “I can’t sleep I need you.” You hear Jude say closing the door. “I can’t sleep either, come here.” You say.

You feel the bed dip, Jude lays next to you. “You think you can be quiet?” Jude ask nipping at your neck. You close your eyes and softly nod.

It wasn’t long before you and Jude had your clothes off. “I’ve been wanting this all day.” Jude said positioning himself between your legs. “Me too, I can’t wait to go home and not worry about this anymore.” You said. “I love your mom, but I hate these family events.” You tell him. “Me too love..” he said leaning down to kiss you as he slowly pushes inside you.

You let out a feel quiet muffled moans. Jude’s thrust is slow yet deep. He had to do it this way so you weren’t loud. You also both loved to switch to something more slow and passionate.

Jude pulls away his thrust slow and deep. Tucking your head in his neck, muffling your soft moans. “Fuck you feel so good.” Your hands coming to his back and holding onto him. “I love you.” You moan softly. Jude eyes flutter when he feels you squeezing his cock. “I love you too..”

It wasn’t long before you both cum, careful not to be too loud. Jude pulled out and laid next to you. “That was so good, you felt so good.” He mumbled and kissed your shoulder. “I’ll clean you up and then leave.”

He quickly clean himself and then you, helping dressing you and then himself again. He then kissed your forehead, waiting until you feel asleep before he snuck back to his room.

The next morning, you walk out your room and see Jude leaving his room. You both smirk and go downstairs. Sitting in the living room, giving each other discreet glances. Jude smirking at you, Denise sees this, she knows what you guys did. “You know I was thinking of redoing the floors, they’re quite creaky.” She said looking at you both.

You and Jude immediately look at each other and then at Denise. “Sorry Denise.” You mumbled. Jude just rolled his eyes, he didn’t regret last night, but he still disobeyed his mom’s rules. “Sorry mom.” He mumbled.

Later that day you and Jude were leaving the house. You stood at the front door hugging Denise, mark, and Jobe goodbye. “Sorry again Denise; we’ll work on controlling ourselves.” You tell her as you hug her. “I know what it’s like to be young and in love, but yes please work on it, especially around family.” She smiled and kissed your cheek.

Jude then hugged his mom. “Sorry mom, love you, see you whenever.” He said. You and Jude then got into the car and left for the airport. To go back home, with no worries of anyone hearing…

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

[thesummerstorms]

You know that conversation you can have with Emmrich where he asks what your plans are for your body when you die?

I think Arsinoë accidentally horrified him. Not by clinging to non-Nevarran ideals about cremation, but by telling him she never thought anyone would care that much one way or the other.

She would be dead, so she wouldn't care. And honestly, a majority of compradi die as Fledglings without graduating; she thinks their bodies were probably burned (since you have to do something with bodies) but they certainly don't have funerals, so it certainly wasn't worth worrying about then.

Emmrich interjects, trying to wrangle his own shock long enough to point out that she's not a Fledgling now, so surely...?

Well if she dies now, Arsinoë all but shrugs, it would depend on the circumstances, wouldn't it? She isn't someone important like a Talon or the scion of an established Crow family. She certainly isn't Caterina Dellamorte, who warrants something verging on a State Funeral.

If she died, there is still a non-zero chance it would be at another Crow's hands, in which case it's anyone's guess what happens after.

If she dies honorably fulfilling a contract, then Viago might feel obligated to do something if he isn't pissed off at her failure and she's isn't still in Exile. He's her mentor, so probably he would manage at least a small pyre. Maybe even a flower or two for the flames if he's letting himself feel sentimental. Teia would probably be there because Viago was.

But just as often, when a contract goes wrong, there's no time to go back for the body. The mark get ahold of it, or whoever's left on the contract has to focus on survival rather than the dignity of a corpse that can't feel any of it.

But really, none of that would matter to Arsinoë, would it? She'd be off wherever dead souls end up going, or maybe in oblivion, who knows. She doesn't have any family to be horrified by her corpse unless you count Viago, who is Fifth Talon, has bigger things to worry about, and will get over it.

But anyway, why do you ask, Emmrich?

Emmrich is too aghast to answer clearly at that point because every single point of Arsinoë's answer goes so deeply against everything that is ingrained in him as part of the Mourn Watch, from the belief that a corpse just doesn't matter to her sincere belief that no one would care enough about her for any particular mourning rights.

And the thing is Emmrich does care. It's his professional duty to care, but he's also become fond of his young friend and he cannot handle imagining that she could die on this mission or the next and potentially receive no rites at all.

Cue Emmrich starting to plan how he's going to have Rook interred in the Grand Necropolis when the time comes. It may involve some string pulling, especially if (hopefully) she dies not on this mission but in the distant future, and even more so if he precedes her and has to leave the job in one of his colleague's hands. But Maker help him, there will be a plan and her death will be respected.

When it comes to light, Neve is uncertain and a little weirded out, but also a little offended by all this. She's fallen in love with Rook, but even before that, the respect between them would have warranted a pyre and Arsinoë's name on the Wall of Light if there was no one else to arrange things. Is this why she's never asked about what happened after Varric-

Lucanis is horrified by the idea of Arsinoë as one of the spirit-possessed skeletons in the Necropolis or one of the jewel-eyed skulls in its many niches; he snaps at Emmrich about Nevarran obsession and respecting Rook as Antivan.

Emmrich refuses to budge. She expected the Crows to do nothing for her. She deserves better, deserves to be remembered, even if she isn't Nevarran.

Lucanis seems fully stunned by the idea that Rook believed this in the first place, given Viago's attachment. Given Lucanis's own growing feelings. Emmrich does soften a little bit when he sees that Lucanis truly didn't realize, but he also doesn't fully divert his plans.

Gathering a grave-dowry is normally left to a lover or family member if the deceased was themselves unable, and Emmrich is neither. But needs must, and though his friend now seems attached to Neve and Lucanis, hearts can be fickle. A plan is better. So he puts away small things here or there, eyes which of Rook's enchanted rings and amulets she seems to favor just in case.

It almost helps him live with the knowledge that Arsinoë believed she would die unmourned. Almost.

[bekolxeram]

I was reading a lot of fics about Tommy discovering Buck's new found stress baking habit post reunion, then this cringy idea popped into my mind. Now you get to suffer with me.

NSFW-ish

Lukewarm water, 360 grams. Honey, 10 grams. Dry yeast, 7 grams. Mix. Flour, 5… wait, no, wrong flour. Where’s my god damn bread flour? When was the last time I made bread? Oh yes, last month, right before Tommy and I got back together, it should be around… Ah, there, found it! No...

No!

Don’t get sentimental now, there’s no place for melancholy tonight.

“Sexy thoughts. Sexy thoughts.” Buck mutters to himself, desperately trying to stop his wandering mind from ruining his mood.

Think of Tommy. Hot, sexy, pilot.

The cyclic looks so small in his big yet surgically precise hand. It almost seems like he’s telepathically flying the chopper with his mind, not with his strong, steady arm. His fingers are long enough to engulf the control stick completely and more, sometimes he has to twist his wrist around just to flick the top… uh… the button on top.

He can feel the fabric of his sweatpants straining against his hip. The tight cotton shirt he picked out especially for the night feels extra tight around his rapidly warming skin. Good, it seems like his tactic is working.

And his pecs… that time when he wore nothing but his flight suit, umm... They’re so fun to play with, squeeze them, bite them, lick them, sleep on them, make them bounce. I don’t need to “explore” to be sure how much I love them. It’s not even about gender, I know a good pair when I see one.

Stop. No. He’s apologized. I’ve apologized. We’re all good.

It feels like all we do these days is to apologize, then have make up sex. Not saying it’s not good sex, but I want that light, fun sex we used to have, before we…

Don’t, don’t go there.

Anyway, oh, his beautiful face. The one stubborn strand of hair on his forehead that always refuses to comply with any hair product. The constellation of freckles scattered across his perfectly shaped nose. The sensual curve of his lips. The creases around his eyes and his cheeks when his whole face is lit up by that classic scrunchy smile. I swear they look even more prominent now… Oh! How could I forget, that delicious cleft on his chin. If there’s one saving grace coming out of the breakup, it’s his decision to double, no, triple his effort at the gym. His facial features look that much more striking on his now leaner body. Who gets over a heartbreak by becoming a Greek statue anyway? Pick up baking like a normal person, please.

Wait, I’m thinking about the breakup, aren’t I? Don’t. Don’t! Ugh… too late.

Buck lightly bangs his head against the counter in frustration. Deciding to focus on the task at hand instead, he promptly weighs out his flour, sprinkles in a pinch of salt, then pours the bubbly yeast mixture into the dry ingredients.

Just as he’s about to put his hands to work, he’s interrupted by a familiar rhythm at the door. Quickly wiping his hands on his apron, then pushing the waistband of his pants down by half an inch for Tommy’s viewing pleasure, he goes on to greet the man he’s been waiting for.

“Sorry, I’m late,” Tommy apologizes as he’s entering the loft. “I believe the infamous LA traffic still hasn’t recovered from the emergency freeway landing last year.”

“No, no, it’s alright,” Buck shoots him a reassuring smile, clearly delighted by having his beloved in his space again. “Make yourself at home, I’ll be right with you. I need to finish this dough first.”

“But I thought you said you wanted to relax tonight? Aren’t we just gonna order takeout?” Tommy’s visibly confused by Buck’s ongoing culinary endeavor.

“Oh, this? This is not for tonight. It has to proof until at least tomorrow morning,” Buck replies absentmindedly, his hands continue kneading the dough without pause.

“You don’t have to, Evan. I’m okay with no breakfast at all,” Tommy walks around the kitchen counter to give the hardworking baker a kiss on the temple. “As long as I’m with you.”

“Um… no, I’m making these because my parents are coming to town.”

“Tomorrow morning?!”

“In a month. They’re coming to see Maddie in a month. I’m just stress baking because they…” Buck lets out a sarcastic laugh, “they stress me out.”

“Ahhh… is that so? Well, I’m happy to have learned this about you. I never knew you could bake.”

“I couldn’t. I picked it up recently, after you…” Those dreaded words have already slipped out of his mouth before Buck realizes. He’s been trying his damnedest to steer the night away from this particular direction, but as it turns out, he’s utterly powerless against the freight train of emotions he’s been keeping deep inside. He briefly considers changing the subject, but Tommy’s heard him already. He perks up his eyebrows, signaling Buck to finish his sentence.

It’s better to rip off the band aid now, than to let it snowball into something unstoppable.

“...after you dumped me,” Buck comes clean reluctantly.

Tommy drops his eyes and sighs in understanding, before gently wrapping his arms around Buck from behind. “I’m sorry, baby,” he presses his lips onto the golden curls in front of him.

“Chimney told me, you have a tendency to run away if you’re being pushed too hard. I should wait for you to reach out instead of… the other way around.” Buck keeps working on his dough, intentionally averting his gaze from the man behind him.

“Mmhmm.”

“It was… agonizing. I saw you everywhere. I saw you at home, I saw you at the fire house. I saw you at the coffee shop. I saw you when a helicopter passed by in the sky. You were like… a ghost, haunting me, every waking moment of my life. You know what? Not even just waking, you were haunting my dreams, too. The only thing that managed to stop me from texting you was baking. I had all the supplies at home because I was planning to surprise you with a cake for your birthday but…”

Tommy abruptly lets go and backs off. While Buck fully expects the night to be ruined after his long winded ramble, he mourns the sudden loss of contact nonetheless.

Still not looking up from the increasingly elastic mass on the counter, Buck continues, “I just have to knead it for… um… 5 more minutes, then I’m all yours. Let’s start over, yeah? I’m over it, I’m okay now. Let’s forget about it and just… chill. There’s this movie I…” He’s cut off by Tommy’s return, arms secured around his waist once again, chest pressed firmly against his back, the only difference being that Buck can feel Tommy’s body heat radiating this time.

“Ghost, you said?” Tommy whispers, lips barely grazing the hair standing on Buck’s nape.

“Yeah…” Buck shivers. He turns his head slightly to take a peek at the man behind him.

Yes, Tommy’s shirtless.

“Mmm, keep going,” Tommy demands, hands sliding under the hem of Buck’s shirt to roam around his midsection, lips softly connected to the side of his neck.

So Buck keeps going. Press. Rotate. Press. Rotate. Press. Rotate. Press. Rotate.

He feels two big hands caressing his shoulders, along his arms, then all the way down to his own busy hands.

“What are you making?”

“Ba — Bagels.”

“Umm… I love bagels,” Tommy lazily drags his mouth from Buck’s neck to his shoulder, leaving a trail of delicate kisses behind, “do you know how I like to take it?”

“How…?”

Tommy props his head back up, chin resting on the younger man’s shoulder. “Plain, with cream cheese,” he breathes straight into Buck’s ear. “So much cream cheese that it… oozes out everywhere. Leaking from the side, through the middle…” his tongue darts out to give that spot right underneath the earlobe an inquisitive lick. “I love it when it gets all over my face, painting my mouth white.”

Buck’s previously regular cadence starts faltering. He doesn’t know when to press or when to rotate the dough anymore.

“Hey, let me help you with that,” Tommy grabs a hand full of the dough, and squeezes, hard. Yet, the dough barely budges. “Oh, am I doing it wrong?”

Buck can’t help but giggle. “You have to knead with your palms, not your fingers. Here, let me show you,” he covers Tommy’s right hand with his own, and pushes the heel of his palm into Tommy’s wrist. “You want to fold the dough onto itself, then roll your palm out while pressing down. A bagel dough is supposed to be pretty stiff, so feel free to put your whole body weight into it.”

“Like this?” Tommy mimics exactly what Buck just showed him.

“I’ll give you an A,” Buck turns his head around, meeting Tommy’s gaze. Their faces are so close together, they can feel each other breathing. “You’re a fast learner.”

“I have the best teacher,” Tommy murmurs.

They naturally gravitate towards each other, like two stars on a collision course, until their lips clash together into a sloppy, filthy open-mouthed kiss.

Pulling back slightly to gasp for air, Buck’s pupils are completely blown out, leaving merely a thin icy ring around his dark pool of arousal. “You can use both hands if you want…”

“Let me try that,” Tommy surrounds Buck in his arms, pinning him against the kitchen surface. Then, he starts working on the dough, using his entire body, making sure to time every pressing motion with a thrust from the hip, rocking the younger man into the edge of the counter.

“Mmm — Ah…” the friction generated by Tommy’s movement alone is enough to make Buck moan. He never thought baking could be this erotic. “That — That works…”

He allows himself to enjoy Tommy’s sweet show of strength for a few moments before firmly gripping Tommy’s wrists, stilling him. “It’s — It’s done. Now we put it back into the mixing bowl,” he hastily drops the dough into the metal container, causing a loud thud, “and leave it in the fridge overnight.”

Tommy gives him one more kiss on the cheek, and a pat on his lower back, “go,” then steps aside.

Buck nearly trips over his own feet walking towards the fridge. He hears water running in the background, probably over Tommy’s talented hands. Wrapping up the stainless steel bowl with more than enough plastic wrap, then shoving the whole thing into an empty corner of his fridge, Buck is all too eager to return to Tommy’s touch.

Slamming the fridge door close, Buck whips his head around in a millisecond to catch an eye full of Tommy in his shirtless glory for the first time in the night. He’s drying his hands with a kitchen towel, finger by finger, his biceps flex every time he rubs a digit clean.

Buck walks straight up to the object of his desire, waiting no time to close their distance. Hooking an elbow around Tommy’s neck, he pulls him into a deep, urgent kiss, while his free hand travels down from Tommy’s clavicle towards his nipple.

“Wait,” Tommy stops the exploring hand on its track, “wash your hands first.”

Buck groans in frustration. He unties the knot in his back, takes off his apron, then swiftly treks towards the kitchen sink to prepare himself for the ensuing nighttime activities.

Tommy follows him, settling snugly behind Buck while he’s cleaning his hands. Tommy slowly dips his mischievous fingers into Buck’s waistband, pleasantly surprised to find bare skin underneath.

“Oh, no underwear? Someone’s eager tonight,” Tommy says in a seductive tone.

Roughly drying his hands on his own shirt, Buck spins around to face Tommy, “I’ve been waiting for you to notice…” Feeling Tommy’s fingers tapping the hem of his top, Buck peels it off right away, letting those enormous hands roam free across his body.

“Bed?” Tommy asks in between kisses.

“Couch.” Buck pants.

Just when Buck’s calculating in his head the logistics of moving to the couch without breaking contact with his man, Tommy withdraws his hand from Buck’s bare skin.

“Hold on tight,” Tommy suddenly grabs onto the back of Buck’s thighs and lifts him clear off the ground, carrying him towards the underside of the loft.

[waynes-multiverse]

I'm way too stoked to write a proper intro, so let's get right into it 😂

“It’s better that you don’t know,” Charlie said.

Not shady at all 🙄 He's such a mess

At least he came to the realization himself, even if his solution clearly isn't well thought through 😅 I can see his good intentions, though. Hope he realizes soon enough that he needs to accept some help 💔

But then to be gone for four months???? 👀 What the hell did he get into?!

So here you sat, in the living room of Dory’s apartment, crying into a jar of Nutella that you’d long ago stopped spreading over the strawberries she’d laid out.

Been there 🤣🤣 (But honestly, eating pure Nutella and just spooning it out of the jar is the fucking best, even though you feel like shit after 😂)

I love that she didn't want to call the cops to protect her brother. I'm glad she sees he's only lost and still wants to help him, no matter what (even when he apparently burns the house down 🙈). It also makes complete sense she doesn't want to lose him, considering everyone she's already lost 😢

She's always so strong and keeps it together because she's always had to do that, but I'm glad she could go for a moment with Russell ❤️

Your nerves had you pacing back and forth across the living room as it rang.

I'm legit freaking out with her. I'd be just an anxious, nervous mess too haha

“What, you wanna make out with him too?” she teased.  Your mouth dropped open in disbelief.

DEAD 💀🤣🤣🤣

But yeah, seriously, what the fuck was in those woods they grew up in? Magic water??? 🔥🫠

Dory sniffed as tears welled up in her eyes, looking up at both of her brothers. Colter wore a more reserved smile, but he did wrap an arm around his sister and thump his older brother on the back.

Ugh, I want a full family reunion so badly on the show 😭 Thank you for this 🤍

Your brows rose. “I don’t think so.” Colter’s mouth parted, and he blinked, like he hadn’t expected you to push back quite like that; calm and matter of fact.

Love her 🤍 Also, you captured Colter's personality so well! His reactions crack me up so much. He's either always super focused or gives sarcastic deadpan answers 🤣

“I haven’t seen Charlie since he quit last week,” Jimmy claimed. “He quit?” you said. “They told me he just never came back.” “Yeah, well, same thing,” he said.

No, it's not! God, what an idiot. Help 😂

And again, what the hell did Charlie get into??? Missing artifacts, and now she's getting kidnapped? I hope the guys find them before the bad guys hurt either reader or Charlie.

Also, Russell surely will bite himself in the ass for not just taking her to the bar with them after this 🙈

Gaaaaah, I can't wait to read the next part! I'm on the edge of my seat 😁👏🍿

Every Second Counts - Part 2

Pairing: Russell Shaw x F. Reader

Summary: One date with your best friend’s brother leaves you wanting more, even though his questionable job and vagabond lifestyle make you want to guard your heart. When your brother falls into trouble, however, Russell is the one you trust to help you find him. 

AN: I decided to put this chapter out a bit early due to some Father's Day stuff tomorrow. I was blown away by the response from you guys on Part 1!! Thank you so much. 🥰 I had some trepidation writing a new character, but I'm so glad you guys seem to enjoy where this little series is going so far. It makes me even more excited to bring you the next chapter of ESC! 💜

Song Inspo: “Too Late” by The Paper Kites

Word Count: 5.3K

Tags/Warnings: Shaw family feels, a bit of mystery, tinge of fluff and mutual pining, and a twist…

💜 Series Masterlist

Part 2: “Family Reunion”

The next day after he left, you finally managed to get Charlie on the phone. He implored you not to try and find him.

He claimed he was staying with a friend for now, and was picking up some odd jobs through a connection at the museum—another security guard who knew how to get extra work. 

“What kind of extra work?” you asked. You sunk back into the couch in your living room and held a hand to your aching head. You had already lost sleep over this, worrying about where he was and what the hell he was doing.

“It’s better that you don’t know,” Charlie said.

He really knew how to frustrate you to the nth degree.

“Charlie, just come home. Please,” you said. Tears burned in your eyes, choking your words. “I’m sorry for what I said, okay? We’ll figure this out together, I promise.”

You heard him sigh.

“You had a right to be mad,” he said. “I’m the big brother, remember? But I’m…I’m a fucking mess. You shouldn’t have to take care of me.”

“We take care of each other, and you know that,” you said sharply, wiping at your eyes in frustration.

“Listen, I’ll come home when I can, okay? Be good.”

“Charlie! Ch—” The call ended, and you nearly tossed your phone in aggravation.

“That stubborn fucking idiot,” you muttered.

Four months later, your worry was eating you alive.

Charlie refused to come home or tell you where he was staying. The only time you got to see him was when you visited him on his night shift at the museum. You tried to talk him into coming home, but your brother remained stubborn.

“You get that from Dad,” you’d told him once, while watching him eat some leftover meatloaf you’d made for him. The two of you stood outside the museum on his break.

Charlie had smirked at you. “Yeah, well, you share the disease.”

You’d rolled your eyes at that.

But just when you thought you were starting to get through to him, now, he’d stopped answering your calls. For that matter, the museum hadn’t even seen or heard from him in a week or so.

So here you sat, in the living room of Dory’s apartment, crying into a jar of Nutella that you’d long ago stopped spreading over the strawberries she’d laid out. You had a chocolate-covered butterknife in one hand and a used Kleenex in the other.

Dory was sat next to you on the couch, rubbing your back with sympathy and concern in her own eyes.

“You should call the police,” she advised.

You’d thought of that, but if Charlie was doing something he wasn’t supposed to, then depending on what it was, you didn’t want necessarily want him locked up in a cell. He wasn’t a bad person, he was just…lost. You wanted him to get help.

You set down the butterknife beside the jar and turned to her, after drying your eyes the best you could.

“Do you think your brother would be willing to come back to Wyoming?” you said. After a beat of hesitation, you specified:

“Colter, the tracker.”

You hadn’t had a chance to meet him when he dropped in a couple of months ago, but she’d told you about his brief visit to find a graduate student who had been kidnapped, and nearly killed by a professor in the Sciences department for uncovering a flaw in the man’s research. That flaw would have costed him his entire grant, and possibly his career and reputation. 

The terrible incident had caused an uproar on campus. Students were released from their classes for an entire day after the professor was arrested. 

Now, Dory considered your question with a thoughtful nod. “I’ll call him.”

You were grateful, but your face became pained as something occurred to you. You held up a hand.

“Wait, I just realized I can’t pay him,” you said. You didn’t have more than a thousand dollars in your savings account, and that was for emergencies. Like the time Charlie nearly burned the house down after a lighting mishap with his bong.

“Oh, sweetie, don’t worry about that,” Dory said. She laid a comforting hand on your arm. “He’d do this as a favor to me.”

“I don’t know,” you replied, your brows furrowing. “That’s a pretty big favor.”

She’d told you what some of Colter’s fees could run up to, but she tried to quell your reservations and promised to call him regardless.

However, the more you thought about it, you already had a phone number in your cell…for the one person who would understand the part of your brother that you might never be able to. 

After you left Dory’s apartment, you debated the idea in your head for the entire drive home. 

And when you got to the house, you picked up your cell, and you called him. Your nerves had you pacing back and forth across the living room as it rang. 

“Hey, sweetheart.”

You couldn’t help smiling just at the sound of his voice, smooth and pleased, and a hint surprised.

“Hey,” you replied, biting your lip. “How are you?”

“I’m good. You’ve got good timing too. I just came off a job,” he said.

“Oh really? Where are you?”

“Well, I’m states-side now. Just got back from South America.”

“Oh, wow,” you said, blinking incredulously.

What the hell was he doing there? you had to wonder. Maybe he was protecting some Latin American emissary. Or maybe, he was doing things you didn’t want to think about. Your brother had filled you in a bit about civilian contract jobs in recent weeks, as he’d considered going after those himself.

“They can pay very well, from what I hear,” Charlie had said. “The problem with that is, it kind of defeats the purpose of leaving the military.”

Despite that mildly troubling thought, you tried to focus on the fact that you had this man on the phone at all.

A smile formed across your lips. “Did you get yourself a nice tan?”

“Eh, not really. Was more of a night job,” he said. “But uh…how are you doing? Not gonna lie, I’m surprised to hear from you.”

“Yeah, I’m…I’m not all that good, if I’m honest,” you said.

“What’s wrong?” he asked. You heard the concern in his voice. You steeled yourself before you answered.

“Russell, I’m sorry, but I need to ask you for a big favor.”

“Hmm, this sounds serious,” he said.

“Yeah, it is,” you agreed. When you next took a breath, it came out unsteady. “My brother’s missing.”

It was a bright Saturday morning when you welcomed Russell Shaw into your house. He looked around, finding family pictures, bookshelves, paintings, candles, all things that began to shade in who you were in the comfort of your home.

“It’s nice,” he said. “It’s uh, homey.”

You smiled and closed the door behind him.

“Well, it’s the house we grew up in,” you replied.

You and Charlie had of course inherited it after your parents’ passing. Their life insurance policies had helped pay off the three-bedroom house while you two were still in school. Your grandparents helped a lot back then too, and had even moved in for a time. Now they each had plots beside your parents at Grandview Cemetery.

“You want some coffee? I know you had a long drive,” you asked.

“Sure,” Russell agreed. He followed you to the kitchen, where you put on the coffee pot. You made a discreet glance at him. He looked virtually the same, with that familiar green jacket, jeans, boots, and a Jimi Hendrix shirt. You'd had a feeling he was a classic rock guy.

“Look, not that I wasn’t glad to get your call,” Russell said, “but you do know that I’m not the tracker in the family, right?”

“Dory did offer to call Colter, but I can’t afford to pay him,” you said.

“I could help with that,” said Russell. You raised up a hand to stop him there.

“I don’t want that kind of help from you,” you said firmly. “I didn’t call you for money, Russell. I called you because you’ll probably understand where Charlie’s head’s at. Better than me, anyway.”

He hesitated, but nodded in understanding. When the coffeemaker dinged, finished percolating, you turned to make him a mug with cream and sugar, as per his request.

While he waited for the coffee to cool, he admired you for a moment. Even in a plain V-neck shirt and a pair of jeans, your hair swung up in a ponytail, you were still a sight. (Your lipstick did match your shirt though. That made him smile.)

And Russell could admit, it was good to see you again.

“Me and Colter reconnected recently. Did Dory tell you?” he said.

Your brows raised high in surprise. “Oh yeah?”

The two of you found your way back to the living room with your mugs.

“Yeah. We talked for the first time in…shit, over twenty years,” Russell laughed, raking a hand through his hair.

Not only had he been able to say his piece to Colter about their…family issues, they’d also solved a case of their own, with Colter agreeing to help him find his friend Doug, who worked for the same black ops contract agency as Russell. The Horizon Group.

The aftermath of that still left Russell with a bitter taste in his mouth when he thought of how Horizon would’ve left Doug to rot, if it hadn’t been for him and Colter pressing their luck and digging deeper into who’d taken his friend.

That whole mess had also made Russell begin to wonder if maybe he needed a new line of work after all. But, because the money was just that good, he’d ended up on a new job by the end of the month.

Your voice soon broke him from his thoughts.

“I’m glad to hear that,” you said. You reached over and touched his arm, with warmth in your eyes. 

Russell gave you a smile. The closeness between you brought up memories of that dusty bar, and the taste of lime and tequila on your soft, supple lips. But you subtly cleared your throat and took your hand back. He hid a twinge of disappointment.

“So what’s going on with your brother?” Russell asked.

Get back on track, he reminded himself.

You sighed. “Damn Charlie.”

Over coffee, you explained that Charlie took off a few months ago, the night you got back from the bar. You had seen him only briefly, whenever you were able to catch him at the museum after work. He’d been keeping in touch with you on a weekly basis, but now, he hadn’t called in almost two weeks. You couldn’t get ahold of him on any of the numbers you had. They all seemed to be burner phones. Plus, he’d been let go from his job at the museum after not showing up for the past week. 

“What’s he into, extracurricular-wise?” Russell asked.

“I don’t know. He wouldn’t tell me,” you said in frustration. Tears prickled at your eyes, and your lower lip trembled. “He said it was safer that way.”

Russell laid a supportive hand over yours, earning your watery gaze.

“And you haven’t gone to the police?” he asked.

“I think he’s gotten into something…dangerous. I don’t want to get him in more trouble than he might be already,” you said. “I just want him to get help for his problems. Physically and mentally.”

Russell nodded. He understood that you wanted to protect your brother. Sometimes though, getting into “trouble” was the rock bottom someone needed in order to face their problems.

“Does he have friends?” he asked. “Some kinda crowd he hangs around with?”

“Not anymore. I think he’s lost touch with his Air Force buddies,” you said, though you tried to think. Your brows furrowed as something occurred to you. “He knew someone at work, at the museum. Another security guard on his same shift. After they cut his hours down to part-time, Charlie said the guy knew how to get extra work.”

“Okay, that’s definitely where we start,” said Russell. “Let me just give Dory a call. If I don’t let her know I’m in town, I don’t even wanna know the consequences.”

You laughed through your tears and tried to brush them away. 

“Yeah, do that. I wouldn’t want to get you in trouble.”

Russell took one look at you, and he tightened his hold on your hand.

“Hey,” he said.

You glanced up at him, as tears clung to your lashes. His heart couldn’t help but clench for you. He really didn’t like to see you like this.

“We’re gonna find him. You’ve got my word,” he said. 

You were desperate to believe him. So you nodded, sniffling as you tried and failed to keep yourself together. You were scared, for the first time in a long time. 

“All right, come ‘ere,” Russell said. When he guided you into his arms, you went willingly. You pressed your face into his chest to hide your weeping. His hold was warm and strong enough to make you feel secure. Just for this moment, you didn’t have to pretend you had everything handled.

“He’s the only family I have,” you reminded him. He nodded.

“I hear ya. We’ll get him home,” he said. “And I am going to call Colter. Don’t worry about the rest. I’ll square it up with him.”

“Russell—” you protested, but he just squeezed you playfully. 

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll pull big brother rank. He’s got no choice,” he joked. 

You shook your head, but you allowed him to comfort you for a bit longer. Because all too soon, you’d have to steel yourself again. You’d have to be the version of yourself that you always had to be, ever since you were fourteen years old.

You invited Dory over to your house, where the three of you were soon joined by the last of the Shaw siblings: the one you had yet to meet.

Colter made it in time for dinner that afternoon. The tall blonde took up your doorway with his broad shoulders and offered you a polite smile, along with his hand. 

“Hi, I’m Colter,” he said. 

You mentally tripped up a bit as you shook his hand and gave him your name. Did all the Shaw siblings have to be so damn attractive?

“Uh, yes, please come in.” You ushered him into your home and led him into the living room, where Russell stood from the couch. 

“Ahh, there he is,” Russell grinned, slapping his younger brother on the shoulder. 

“Here you are,” Colter gestured at him. “Where the hell did you take off to after last time?”

“Ah, you know. Argentina was fun.”

“I’m sure it was.”

You paused in the doorway, just watching the brothers in mystification. Dory shot you a questioning look as she came over from the kitchen. You met her with raised brows. 

“What?” Dory asked. A smile played on her lips.

“Do all of you have to be so unbelievably pretty?” you whispered over to her. Dory smirked and bumped your shoulder, nodding at Colter. 

“What, you wanna make out with him too?” she teased. 

Your mouth dropped open in disbelief. Dory just laughed and moved on to say hello to the other blonde. She pulled him down into a hug, and he reciprocated warmly.  

Russell then laid a hand on Colter’s shoulder, as well as Dory’s. He wore a big, proud grin.

“Hey. Look at us, huh?” he said. 

Dory sniffed as tears welled up in her eyes, looking up at both of her brothers. Colter wore a more reserved smile, but he did wrap an arm around his sister and thump his older brother on the back.

You smiled. You were lingering by the kitchen doorway. If nothing else, you were glad that this whole mess had been able to bring Dory back together with her family. 

You decided to give them a moment, and you wandered back into the kitchen. There you took a beat for yourself, mainly to breathe.  

When you again thought of Charlie, you had to wonder just what the hell he’d gotten himself into.

Later, the four of you sat in the living room so you could explain everything you knew so far to Colter. He took all the information in with a pensive expression that didn’t reveal much to you. 

“So you said he was struggling?” he said. 

“Yes, after he got out of the military,” you confessed. “He had a hard time figuring himself out. I got him the job at the museum, but I don’t think it was enough for him.”

“Why is that?” Colter asked. He saw that you were reluctant to explain. “I need to know the full picture of who Charlie is if I’m going to be able to figure out his probable moves.”

You sighed. “Well, he was seeing a VA psychiatrist for a while. They wanted to put him on antidepressants, but he stopped going. He…started self-medicating instead.”

That part was hard to admit, but it was the truth. You couldn’t pretend it wasn’t any longer. 

“What substances?” Colter asked. 

“Alcohol, mainly,” you replied. “At his worst, there were hard drugs, but I got him to tone it down just to weed every now and then.”

You bit at your thumbnail out of habit, but you forced yourself to stop, folding your hands in your lap. You didn’t see judgment in Colter’s eyes, just him taking in the information. You couldn’t help but glance at Dory, where you found her sympathy. She knew enough about what you’d been dealing with for the past few years. Russell seemed understanding as well. 

“Anything else I should know?” Colter asked. You shook your head. You felt bad about revealing Charlie’s business like this, but you knew it was the only way to help him. Still, you felt you had to defend him a little.

“Look, my brother has his problems, but he’s a good man,” you said. “He, um…he basically half raised me, after our parents died.”

Dory also knew this story. She rested a hand on your back, and you gave her what smile you could. 

“How old were you?” Russell asked. He earned your attention, and you met his sympathetic gaze.

“Fourteen,” you answered. “It was a car accident.”

He took that in, nodding slowly. “I’m sorry.”

The way he met your eyes when he said it, you believed him. You subtly cleared your throat and directed the conversation back.   

“So, I don’t have a lot of money. But I can give you something for your services,” you said to Colter. Both Russell and Dory met you with similar looks. 

“I’ve got it,” Dory says, before Russell had the chance. Colter waved her off though.

“In this case, it’s not necessary,” he said, focusing on you again. “So Charlie was working at the local museum?”

You breathed a note of relief at his generosity. Dory, Russell, and now Colter…they were all good people in their own way. You felt emotion rise in your throat.

“Yes, it’s about ten minutes away,” you managed to reply. “It’s closed now, but his coworker could be on shift. They always have security in place.”

You grabbed your purse to go with them when Colter and Russell stood, but the former raised a placating hand. 

“It’s best if you stayed here,” Colter said.

Your brows rose. “I don’t think so.”

Colter’s mouth parted, and he blinked, like he hadn’t expected you to push back quite like that; calm and matter of fact.

“Ah, well, it’s really for your safety—”

“I’m not going to sit and wait,” you said. “That’s all I’ve been doing for months. I may not be an expert tracker, or have been in the army, but I do know my brother. And we are going to find him.”

Behind you, Dory was giving Colter a warning shake of her head. She knew just how stubborn you could be. Meanwhile, Russell came up on your other side with a smile.

“What’s the harm in her coming along to the museum?” he said, sliding his brother a teasing look. “Unless the T. rex wakes up all the mummies, Ben Stiller style.”

You wanted to point out that that wasn’t exactly the plot of Night at the Museum, but you held it in with a smile. You gave Colter an expectant look.

He sighed at Russell’s antics, but he turned to you with a nod.

“Okay, let’s go,” he said. 

“I’ll head home then,” said Dory. “Call me if you need anything.” 

You gave her a hug after she gathered up her purse. 

“Thank you,” you whispered.

“It’s going to be okay,” she said, rubbing your back. “Colter’s the best.” 

“All right, fine. And what am I? Chopped liver?” Russell remarked, gesturing wide with his hands. You all filtered out of your house, and you locked the door behind you.  

“Oh, you’re special, all right,” Dory quipped back, but she gave her eldest brother a warm hug as well, then patted Colter on the arm before she left.

Russell shot Colter a playful smirk. “I got the hug.”

Colter rolled his eyes and pointed over to his big pickup truck. 

“Just get in the car, please.”

You had to smile at all their sibling teasing. It reminded you of how you and Charlie used to cut up, when things were good. On your way down the driveway, you hesitated by the Chevy Chevelle parked next to your own car. She was still black and sleek and beautiful.

You happened to glance up, and there was Russell, getting into his brother’s pickup. He winked at you across the driveway. You turned your face to hide your smile (and your blush) as you climbed into your car.

Colter noted the exchange when he buckled up into the driver’s seat. He watched Russell do the same on the passenger side, all while wearing a certain smile on his face. When he noticed how Colter was looking at him, his brows raised.

“What?” said Russell.

“What was that?” Colter asked.

“Nothing.”

“Yeah, right,” Colter chuckled. He began to pull the car out of the driveway after you in your car, so he could follow you. “What, do you two have a thing or something? Is that why she called you before me?”

Russell shrugged, but his smile was telling. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Mhmm. Convincing,” Colter said, but his lips tugged upward as well. His good humor diminished though, when he considered the last time he saw his brother. “How’s the arm?”

Russell gave a thumbs up with his left arm—the one that previously had a bullet run through it. It was still healing, even now.

“It’s good,” he said.

“Did you see a doctor?”

“Sure did.”

Riiiight. Another thing Colter wasn’t sure was the truth, but he’d give Russell that one.

“And that unfinished business?” Colter asked.

Russell’s smile faded, but he nodded. “Finished.”

After a moment, Colter nodded as well. 

“Okay,” he said. 

Something occured to him then. He paused, and he reached into his pocket. He held up a small, closed pocketknife with a wooden handle, and he gave it back to Russell. It had the man's name carved on the side.

Russell's smile returned as he flipped the old keepsake through his fingers.

"Thanks for keeping it safe for me," he said.

Colter smiled back. "Thanks for trusting me with it."

Colter parked next to you at the museum. It was closed, but the security guard, Jimmy, did know your brother. 

“I haven’t seen Charlie since he quit last week,” Jimmy claimed.

“He quit?” you said. “They told me he just never came back.”

“Yeah, well, same thing,” he said.

The front doors of the museum opened, and out came Dr. Feinman, your former boss, and the Head Manager. You left Jimmy’s questioning up to Russell and Colter with a meaningful look, and you went to intercept Feinman.

“Hi, sir, how’re you doing?” you asked. Your name fell from his lips in surprise. 

“My dear, it’s good to see you, but why are you here after hours?” he asked, his British accent lilting.

“I’m trying to find Charlie. He’s been missing, well, officially for about a week,” you said. “I was actually surprised to see you here so late.”

The man cleared his throat. He smoothed a hand over his tie and suit jacket.

“Yes, well, we could’ve used Charlie’s help. We’ve had to double our security efforts,” he said. “We’re currently dealing with a sensitive issue, so the museum will be closed until it is resolved.”

“You’re doubling your security efforts… Was something stolen?” you asked. 

Feinman clearly didn’t want to tell you this, but you knew you’d hit the nail on the head by the look on his face.

“Please, keep that information to yourself,” he said. 

“What was stolen?” you asked in concern. 

“I’m afraid I cannot disclose that information. Not even for you, dear,” he said. “I do hope you find your brother though.”

“Thank you. I appreciate that, and as a matter of fact,” you began, but Feinman waved an apologetic hand.

“I’m sorry, I’m afraid I’m in a terrible rush just now. But call my office tomorrow and Brenda will help you with whatever you may need,” he said. “Good evening.”

“Wait, Dr. Feinman,” you tried, but he was already breezing past you and heading toward his Mercedes in the parking lot.

Meanwhile, Colter and Russell weren’t having much better luck with Jimmy. 

“Look, I really don’t know where Charlie is,” he said. “Haven’t seen or heard from him since he took off.”

“He said you connected him with someone who could give him some work on the sly,” Russell said, leveling a hand at the man’s chest. “Who did you connect him with, and what kind of work are we talking?”

Jimmy blew out a breath, like this was really inconveniencing his day. (Or night, at this point.)

“What, you’ve got somewhere to be?” Colter said. “You’re getting paid to stand right here, and we have no problem sharing your shift all night. You might as well just tell us what we want to know.”

Jimmy rubbed the back of his neck in annoyance.

“All right,” he snapped. “I hooked him up with this guy I knew through a mutual acquaintance, who just needed some muscle. I guess you could call it private security.”

“A mutual acquaintance?” Colter repeated. 

“What’re you, James Bond? Who did you connect him with?” Russell pressed.

Jimmy was reluctant to talk. You came back over to join them, and the security guard became even more tight-lipped.

“You guys should go. I don’t have to talk to you, and I’ve got a job to do,” he said.

When he tried to continue his patrol around the museum, you stepped deliberately in his way. You didn’t have the patience for this, and you would no longer be a doormat, letting the Goldsteins and the Feinmans of this world push past you.

“Look, Jimmy, if you don’t give us something we can go on to find my brother, you know where I’m going to go?” you asked. But you spoke before he could respond. “To the police. And your name is the only one I have to give them. Now, if you don’t want that to be you, then give me a different name.”

Jimmy looked down at you, and then over at your intimidating shadows, Russell and Colter. Jimmy sighed.

“Eddie,” he gave, finally.

Russell raised his hands, as if to say, Is that it?

“What, Eddie Vedder? Eddie who? Come on,” Russell said.

“Eddie Mendez,” Jimmy replied in a lowered voice. “I don’t know where he lives. I don’t have his number. And that 'mutual acquaintance' is doing some time in lockup. But Eddie hangs out at a bar called Howley’s.”

You and Russell shared a meaningful look at that. You turned back to Jimmy. 

“Okay. What was stolen here at the museum?” you said. “That’s why it’s been closed, right?” 

“I don’t know,” Jimmy said. “I wasn’t on shift, and Dr. Feinman keeps a tight lid on that kind of thing.”

“We’ll need to get into his office then,” Colter said. 

You blinked wider at Colter. Wait, was he really suggesting you guys break into the museum?

Jimmy pointed to the black device attached to the ceiling above them. 

“See the cameras?” he said. “That's not happening on my dime.”

Colter looked up, and he saw the cameras strategically installed across the front of the museum. 

“Then take us where the cameras don’t see,” he said.

You, Colter, and Russell were able to break into the museum via a storage unit door, thanks to Jimmy’s texted instructions. You couldn’t believe you were actually doing this, but it was for Charlie, you reminded yourself.

You remembered where to find Feinman’s office. You paid for a lot of your undergrad expenses, namely your books and tuition, by working full-time as an office assistant here, and the occasional tour guide. 

You led them to the room where the inventory records were kept. Colter gave you his gloves so you didn’t leave prints, and you were able to pinpoint what was labelled as missing from the latest shipment. 

“Oh great,” you muttered. 

“What was taken?” Colter asked.

“A collection of Native American weapons. Dated almost eight hundred years old,” you said, shaking your head. “The collection is valued at $1.5 million dollars.”

Russell and Colter shared a look. 

“That’s some big motive,” Russell said. 

“When did they go missing?” Colter asked. 

“Almost two weeks ago,” you said. Your brows furrowed the more you read, as you realized something. “Just a few days before Charlie left the museum…” 

The timing wasn’t lost on anyone. But if Charlie was a suspect, Feinman hadn’t let on to that at all. You checked the exact date the artifacts went missing again: a Tuesday night. Charlie didn’t typically work on Mondays or Tuesdays, you realized. And he’d left after the artifacts went missing. So maybe they hadn’t thought to question him yet. One small blessing.  

You sighed. With that information gathered, the three of you put back everything you uncovered and left the building the same way you came in. Jimmy was nowhere in sight, probably patrolling the other end of the museum on purpose.

When you all made it back to the parking lot, you turned to Colter and Russell.

“Okay, what’s next?” you asked. “Howley’s right? To find Eddie.”

“Actually, I think it’s best Russell and I take it from here,” Colter said. “We don’t know what kind of character Eddie Mendez is, but from how reluctant Jimmy was to tell us, it doesn’t sound good.”

You opened your mouth to argue, but Russell drew closer and touched your arm. You could see in his face that he agreed with his brother, even though he hadn’t said anything yet.

“Look, you’ve been a huge help,” he said. “But let us work on this, okay? We’ll call you when we find something.”

Still, your lips pursed. “Russell, he’s my brother.”

“I know. Punching out drunks is one thing, but this might be a little different,” he said, grasping your arms gently. “Will you give me some peace of mind, knowing you’re home safe?”

He brushed one of his thumbs along your skin. Already you had goosebumps. From the cold chill on the air, or from him, you weren’t sure. But that simple touch, along with his earnest, imploring gaze broke you down.

“All right. I get it. I’m not the Special Ops guy,” you said. “But call me afterward so I know how it went.”

“Okay, will do,” Russell agreed. He let you go so you could go to your car. You shot the brothers one last look before you climbed in and peeled out of the parking lot.

Russell expelled a sigh of relief. He got into the passenger side of his brother’s pickup while Colter started it up.

Thanks to the late hour, and how little traffic there was on the road, it didn’t take you long to get home.

You’d debated whether you should just go to Howley’s anyway, but you didn’t want to get in the way, or make Russell worry for that matter. You smiled, despite yourself.

His touch had tingled across your arms, and whenever he absently laid a hand on the small of your back, supportive or guiding.

Thinking about him just made your heart ache. Because after this was over, he’d be gone again—on a new mysterious job, perhaps on the other side of the world.

You’d been regretting how you left things with him at the bar for months, but now you were glad you hadn’t gone any further with him that night. Your heart was too easily ensnared, it seemed, and Russell didn’t seem to be a “strings attached” kind of guy.

When you parked in front of your house, you let out a tense breath. Russell and Colter would find Charlie. You believed in them. You just hoped your brother was all right, wherever he was.

You pulled your cell out of your purse to call Dory as you headed for the front door. You wanted to give her an update and let her know that you were back at home.

The call began to ring just as you slipped your key into the lock. Unfortunately, you never got a chance to open it.

A strong pair of arms wrapped around you from behind and yanked you back, and a firm hand over your mouth smothered your scream.

AN: 🫣 *Whispers* Sorryyy. But hey! What did you think of the reader's reunion with Russell, as well as the little Shaw Family Reunion? Plus, we got a bit of the reader working with Russell and Colter on the case.

Now, the real timer starts...

Next Time:

You were led into what sounded like a warehouse. You couldn’t know for sure with this musty bag over your head and your wrists bound together with zip ties, but you clenched your teeth and tried to stop sniffling. Your fear made your heart pump fast and loud in your ears.

Voices echoed around you, arguing, yelling about shipments. You were shoved hard to the ground, and you gasped, instinctively throwing your hands out when your knees hit the hard cement. 

“No…” 

That voice was all too familiar. 

▶️ Keep Reading: PART 3

Series Masterlist

Ko-Fi Me ☕

Russell Shaw Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Russell S. Tag List:

@kazsrm67 @letheatheodore @agothwithheavysetmakeup @jacklesbrainworms @foxyjwls007

@wincastifer @ades106 @iamsapphine @simpforbuckyb @roseblue373

@brianochka @branj19 @hazel-eye-coffee-shop-girl-blog @globetrotter28 @charmed-asylum

@waywardxwords @deanwinchestersgirl87 @this-is-me19 @rachiem4-blog @sweettimelady

@leigh70 @clinicallydepresso @xiphoidbones @skoveu @nyotamalfoy

@kmc1989 @jackles010378 @emily-winchester @waynes-multiverse @jessjad

@my-stories-vault @deans-spinster-witch @syrma-sensei @stellasfictionalworld @ultimatecin73

@jesllianaquilesrolonsworld @pieandmonsters @lhymer1995 @taehyungxjungkookistaekook @lovelystoriesaj

@nicksalchemy1 @spnwoman @onlyangel-444 @sexyvixen7 @illicithallways

@wolkenprinzessin007 @alwaystiredandconfused @carpenterswife @cheynovak @grilledcheeseandtomato

[ickyrafe]

i fuckin love Rafe’s complex about ward. Like in season 2 when he starts wearing ward’s clothes and rings - he’s so pathetic oh my god. He’ll do anything to feel like the man of the house. I think this ties in w a lot of your au’s. Like old-fashioned misogynistic Rafe (housewife kink loud and proud) bc he just uses reader to feel like some alpha male 💀

i think you touched on it before about him fucking reader in ward’s bed - can you elaborate or write a drabble perhaps on how else this complex affects his (could be an any rafe from an au of your choice) relationship with (again- any) reader? I think it’s so twisted and sexy at the same time.

love your work!

-sadie

♥︎_♥︎ his complex with ward & how it effects housewife!reader specifically is speaking to me… cw -> noncon themes, unhingedabuser!rafe, housewife / marriage kink.

it starts with him sending you a glance as you sit at his family’s dining room table. one that you meet with a knowing look, just before he clears his throat and excuses himself, challenging you to come find him like the attentive wife everyone knows you are. and of course you do, ward sending you a warm smile and cracking a joke about rafe’s temper that makes your own smile falter, already feeling his fingers around your throat just from the implication.

when you tiptoe up the staircase, you see the door to the master bedroom— ward and rose’s room, formerly ward and rafe’s mother’s room long ago— cracked open, rafe clearly pacing about. footsteps muffled by the century old rug beneath his feet as your own are light and calculated, voice airy as you approach him and place a hand on the tense muscles of his upper back.

“rafe, are you okay?”

“yeah, everything’s fuckin’ great,” he sniffles, words bitter as the roll off of his tongue, “he thinks i’m a fuckin’ joke— he thinks that we’re a joke.”

“what are you talking about?”

the way you ask must make something in rafe snap. you’re shoved down onto the crisp duvet, tummy down as your protests are completely ignored and your dress is hitched up around your hips.

“rafe, we can’t here.” your words come out in hushed cries as you try your best to reason with him, but also not wanting to alarm anyone of what’s happening by any means.

“just— shut the fuck up f’r a second.” he snarls, yanking your panties down your twitching thighs before the same hand he used trails up your back, holding you down by the scruff of your neck. “you shouldn’t be fightin’ me off like that— i put that pretty ring on your finger to use you how i want to, brat.”

the sound of his belt being undone makes your heart sink, while your face his pressed up against bedding that smells like his father— yet rafe’s own scent lingers, too. it’s something you recognize, something that makes you dizzy before he even spits on your cunt and stuffs you full of his cock. you keen, still fighting to get up despite the way you’re pinned down but it’s mostly because you want to see rafe’s face. you want to feel him deeper as he folds you in half, you want to be his good little wife…

but it’s not something you can afford at the moment it seems.

not when he’s baring his teeth and knocking the air out of your lungs with each of his thrusts, forcing you to muffle your hiccups with the plush surface underneath you as he bruises your cervix. the feel and god— the sound— of his hips smacking agaisnt the plush curve of your ass makes your face heat up until you’re burning from the inside out with embarrassment.

“i’m more of a fuckin’ man than he’ll ever be,” you hear him grit out through his teeth, as if he’s trying to prove it to himself rather than you, “isn’t that right, baby?”

you babble out in agreement, nodding the best you can despite feeling utterly fucked out already as he leans over you, caging you in with his bigger form and strong arms.

rafe’s the man of the house in your world, and that’s all that matters to either of you.

[caldella]

YET ANOTHER SINSMAS POST (spoilers)

(I can't be stopped)

Andrealphus is still not beating my allegations of "Has a repressed attraction to Stolas and tries to take over his life as a demented coping mechanism." I don't even care if this is just crack fan theory or if it sounds like I'm reaching lmao. No apologies. It's way too amusing.

You could say I don't want to

🎵❄️ Let it go ❄️🎵

---

Firstly, this attempt to monologue is so fixated on how pathetic and loooonely Stolas must be feeling. This screams "Oh, you're desperate enough to come crawling to meee to get it back?" What could the "Everything you are now..." lead into? The only thing I could think of was: "...is because of me. But I have the power to change all that..."

It doesn't even register to Andrealphus that Stolas is NOT crawling back. That Stolas was not making an attempt to talk or bargain with him and didn't give a shit if he saw Andrealphus or not when he arrived. Stolas is not showing an ounce of weakness. He is pissed. He is demanding, demanding to see his daughter and isn't paying attention to anything else. Andre clearly has this mental image that Stolas still under everyone's thumb, defeated, without agency. Helpless without his 'stuff.' But Stolas has spent the entire Season 2 becoming more open with his feelings and unwilling to be unfairly pushed around. He's fully snapped between Mastermind and his meltdowns in Sinsmas. And Andre's addition of Via to this monologue reeeeally tips Stolas over the edge: especially the way it's worded like she's just a possession. So instead of the weak, pitiable Stolas that Andre was expecting, he gets rage and his ass face beat FUCK YEAH STOLAS GO FOR IT Which is the only thing that snaps him out.

But the moment Blitzø shows up, Andre literally encases Stolas in a fucking dragon/hydra for the IMP crew to fight???

Like a stereotypical medieval fantasy????? "The villain has locked the poor distressed protagonist's prince(ss) in a dragon-guarded castle because he wants the prince(ss) himself?" HE is forcing Stolas into the "'helpless damsel in distress" box. This doesn't read as "I want to kill him now, no holds barred." This is "He is staying here because I demand it, and you can't have him."

Everyone can pick on Stolas all they want for having unrealistic romance expectations, but Andrealphus dude, right now you very much look like you want to be the powerful villain who forces the MC's love interest to give in to him. 🦚❄️

There is the chance that he has an imp fetish instead and might instead develop a fixation on Blitz, I guess we'll see. I just personally like this particular potential twist. Maybe I'm not willing to die on this hill, but I will punch an arrogant peacock in the face over it.

[purble-turble]

i can 100% see Nezha and mk's relationship (regardless if it's platonic or romantic) being equally beneficial and detrimental. like there so much they could help each other with but also subconsciously cause serious problematic habits/ thought processes/ coping mechanisums for each other and themselves the biggest thing my brain latched onto was how MK could become Nezha's first truly safe space.

Nezha going what i know and understand about his lore and what we can glean from the little we know in the show's canon, definitely has it rough in the celestial realm. he had a very troubled childhood and is clearly haunted by his past and is being defined by it despite his efforts to grow and prove that he's better now. he can command respect for his strength and power but people still question him as a person, always waiting for him to slip up. what relationships he does have he probably doesn't feel fully safe expressing his real self and thoughts because it poses potential risks. then mk comes into the picture. Nezha's given him a safe place to talk openly and he'd want to offer the same to the prince. even if he can't help directly he knows just having someone to vent to can help. its small stuff at first, little complaints here and there about work and the celestial realm, but slowly nezha starts to open up about more personal stuff. stuff with his family, with other celestials, and about his past. and to his amazement and relief is met with only empathy and understanding from mk, even after learning about the darker stuff MK never judges him. Nezha doesn't have to mask anything about himself around mk, infact he's being encouraged to relax and just be his natural self around him. he's truly safe when its just him and mk, that feeling has to be euphoric for the poor guy used to being on guard constantly even around the people he loves.

but of course, could easily lead to a mutually unhealthy co-dependency. nezha's already been isolated to some degree having never had much of a positive support structure, and mk's slowly isolating himself away from his established support structure. resulting in an echo chamber of two very well-meaning but very mentally ill people.

(i'm so sorry this turned into a short essay I've been waiting three hours to get of shift so i can spill my brains out about this. i have more but I'm going to end it here in fear that i'm being a bit much about these two)

Noo don’t worry about this being long, I absolutely love it!!

You’re so right, Nezha and MK are at the same time a good counterbalance for each other while also being accidentally self-destructive. MK is a chaotic lil gremlin who follows his emotions and worries about consequences later and Nezha (in LMK at least) seems to be trying very hard to come at things logically and approach from a more grounded, duty-based perspective. They both could use a splash of the other’s energy in that manner, so in that way it’s for sure a good thing that they’re getting closer.

Problem is, like you said, these boys are sooooo mentally ill 😂 The feeling that they need to constantly be proving themselves, giving a little more away every time, pushing their own boundaries and suffering in silence because it’s what someone else needs- these are things they might accidentally end up encouraging in each other…. Actually, probably not even accidentally. They see the other working crazy hard and being run ragged physically and probably emotionally too, and they’re like “I am SO proud of you for sacrificing so much!” ..and both of them have never felt so seen as when the other says that to them. It’s validating their worst impulses to just keep going and giving because their own feelings about it are less important than everyone else’s.

Also, the fact that they feel like they can expect to get that praise when they admit to being stressed might even make them be more open about it. Only with each other, though… if they were to mention feeling overworked or burdened to their families, they know already that they would not get the response they were looking for.. but again, even if it means they’re being more open, it’s still not a super good thing that it’s reinforcing destructive behavior. :U

[fuji09]

Thank y'all both so much for what y'all added!

So many people don't understand that survival mode, isn't something easily overcome when you're in it for years. And Derek was in it for 6 years before we first met him. His fight or flight (and freeze!) response is literally why he reacts the way he does.

He sometimes fights, especially with hunters or the supernatural, it can be kill or be killed, with Kate and hunters, and sometimes just the people around him, he flees.

He looks scared so many times, he puts himself in danger to try to keep others from dying so many times, and he really is just a scared boy.

I hate that they changed his age, 19 was perfect for him. Him being 21 isn't too bad, plus it makes the trauma so much worse that he literally isn't a functioning adult 6 years later.

Derek is betrayed so many times that it's kinda gross. Derek can't risk trusting the wrong person again.

Derek keeps being hurt but because of his age, people don't care. Because he's a guy, he wasn't really raped. Derek keeps being blamed for everything because he's the only person that isn't allowed to fuck up, even though he does fuck up a lot. Derek is obviously power hungry because he killed Peter instead of *checks notes* letting a traumatized boy who was bitten against his will that doesn't want to be a werewolf and knows nothing about being a werewolf, in love with a hunter's daughter, would not be able to mentally handle killing someone, and has been a werewolf for like a few months and would not be able to handle being an alpha werewolf or handle more power than he already has trouble with, kill Peter because a rumor says killing the one who bit you could possibly turn you back to human.

Derek was traumatized, Derek was used and abused, Derek had to mercy kill his first love, Derek lost his entire family in the fire and feels guilty for it, Derek loses his last family member, Laura, who is also his alpha and probably the only person who actually interacted with him for 6 years, and Derek has been tortured, raped, and sexually assaulted.

But Derek isn't allowed to make mistakes because he isn't a minor. Derek isn't allowed to have ugly symptoms of PTSD because he's expected to just get over it. Derek isn't allowed to be scared because he should know better.

Derek literally feels he has to be useful to someone to be worthy of kindness.when he tells Scott he needs him alive to survive the hunters or tells Stiles he needs him alive to protect him from the Kanima, he's literally pleading with them to not let him die. Because they need him alive. Not because it's the right thing to do or because they care, but because Derek has to be of use for them to trust in these two teens that they won't let him die.

And I feel that's how a lot of people see Derek. He has to be useful to anyone and everyone all the time (whether he has the ability to do so or not) and if he's not or he makes a mistake, then clearly he deserves all the bad shit he gets.

It's heartbreaking. The lack of empathy for Derek in the show and within the fandom is appalling.

Derek Hale has PTSD. I think people tend to forget that he wasn't an ass for the hell of it. He put up a rough asshole front to protect himself. He has the ugly symptoms of PTSD. Does it excuse some of his actions? No. But he does deserve some understanding and empathy.

No matter what age you see him as, he just isn't a 'grown ass man'. He had no idea how to take care of himself. He was still mentally that 15 year old who lost everything and was traumatized beyond reason.

Derek continuously kept being kicked while he was down. The poor guy couldn't catch a break. Like have a heart y'all. He was never a villain. An antagonist at one point, yes. Villain, no.

Trauma literally rewires your brain, and that poor kid got enough trauma before the first episode. Derek needed lots of therapy, he needed friends, and he needed a pack.

Derek could literally trust no one. Not because he didn't want to, but because he couldn't. He tried his best with what he had, which wasn't much, and he fucked up at times. But he kept trying to do and be better.

[lcvehee]

lost and found (smau)

#20. the wrong impression?

꩜ .ᐟ wc: 0.9k

꩜ .ᐟ warnings: a little bit of angst?

“so, do you guys have plans after this?” yeri mused outloud, as she sipped on her mimosa.

“i'm going to eunseok's place,” giselle answered, a smile tugging at her lips. yeri's eyes twinkled in enthusiasm. “ah, young love.”

anton snorted. “you're still young, what do you mean?” 

yeri shrugged. “i'm still the oldest, and i'm literally dating y/n's brother. i feel like a big sister watching her siblings grow up.”

giselle let out an ‘aww’, squeezing her friend's hand. anton wrinkled his nose, yet a small grin appeared on his face. “you're getting sappy,” he muttered, snickering.

she rolled her eyes, dismissing his comment. “anton? y/n? what are your plans?”

anton quickly replies with a shrug. "i'll catch up on sleep."

you all nod in understanding, then yeri's eyes turn to you expectantly. before you could respond, giselle interjected, "it involves sohee, right?"

she’s absolutely right.

you facepalmed yourself in your head. pretending to be best friends with him isn’t convincing anyone. what am i even doing? you glanced down at your empty plate, trying to look composed. the fact that i’m seeing him today isn’t helping. we really need to rethink our strategy…

“y/n?” yeri’s voice pulled you out of your thoughts, her brow arched in curiosity.

you blinked, realizing you've taken too long to respond. “uh, yeah,” you said quickly, “we're just gonna hang out at his place. nothing major.”

anton narrowed his eyes slightly, tilting his head. “sohee, huh?” his tone is casual, but there’s an edge of curiosity in his eyes that made your stomach tighten. “you’ve been studying with him an awful lot lately.”

giselle smirked, clearly enjoying the tension. “yeah, y/n, what could you two be up to, now that it's summer break…” she trailed off.

you forced a laugh, hoping it sounds natural. “come on, it’s not like that. i don't like him that.”

yeri leaned her chin on her hand, her gaze inquisitive. “then what is it like?”

your heart skipped a beat. you could feel their eyes on you, waiting, watching. 

“it’s nothing,” you said a bit too quickly, brushing them off with a wave of my hand. “we’ve gotten close. right, but that's all it is.”

anton raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. “close enough that you see him more than you see me?”

your face reddened at the accusation. “it’s not like that,” you insisted, but your voice seemed a little too defensive.

they’re not buying it. 

giselle grinned knowingly. “whatever you say, y/n.”

yeri smiled but didn't push further, and the conversation moved on—at least for now.

— a few hours later.

sohee was already waiting when you arrived, sitting casually on the bench near the park entrance in front of his apartment. he spotted you and waved, his usual smile plastered across his face. you managed to return a small smile, but the weight of your thoughts pulled at your chest.

“so,” you said, as you looked around, gesturing at the park, "i thought we were gonna hang out in your apartment?"

"the weather's nice, so why not?" he said as he patted the space beside him. "sit down, you must be tired from walking in the heat."

as you lowered yourself onto the bench, he handed you a beer from a plastic bag. "for old time's sake?" he grinned.

"we're never beating the alcoholics allegations, you know?" you snorted, grabbing the cold can. "but sure."

he rolled his eyes as he gulped down the beverage.

“so… how was your last exam?” you asked, after taking a sip.

he smiled, nodding to himself. "it went well, i was worried for nothing."

you nudged him with your elbow. "i knew you could do it!"

he laughed, rubbing the nape of his neck. 

as you two talked about everything and anything, time seemed to be frozen. and yet, your mind couldn't help but wander. you stared at your lap, deep in thought. 

"what's wrong? something happened?" his tone was breezy, light as always. "looks like you've got something on your mind."

you hesitated, gaze flitting to his concerned features, then nodded. “yeah, actually."

his smile faltered slightly. “oh. okay, what’s up?”

you glanced down at your hands, fiddling with the hem of your t-shirt. “i just think… maybe we should stop hanging out so much..." you trailed off. "our plan backfired!" you exclaimed, gesturing animatedly. "it’s giving the wrong impression.”

there was a pause—a long, heavy silence that makes your heart pound. when you finally glanced back at him, his expression was unreadable, but you noticed the way his shoulders tensed.

“the wrong impression?” he said softly, as if he was testing the words out.

you nodded quickly, rushing to explain. "yeah, like… people are starting to think there’s something going on between us, and it’s weird—”

“it’s what?” he asked, his voice quieter than usual.

you paused, unsure how to answer. he looked down, his fingers lightly tapping against the edge of the bench. “you're right. that makes sense, i guess,” he said after a moment, his tone carefully neutral.

“sohee? you sure about—”

“no, it’s fine,” he interrupted, his voice still calm but a little unsteady. he chuckled dryly; his smile didn't quite reach his eyes.

“i mean, i get it. if it’s making things weird for you, then… yeah, maybe it wasn't a good idea after all.”

you felt a pang in your chest at how distant he suddenly seemed. “wait—”

“just what were we thinking, y/n?,” he laughed bitterly, standing up and fixing his cap. he avoided looking at you, his gaze fixed somewhere in the horizon. “i don’t want to make things harder for you.”

the tone of his voice made your throat tighten. “sohee, wait—”

“i need to go,” he said quickly, cutting you off before you could finish, "i have my shift, so i gotta get ready."

then he turned and walked away, his steps slow and hesitant.

you watched him disappear down the path, your chest heavy with words left unsaid. in the stillness that ensues, you wonder if the wrong impression wasn’t so wrong after all.

prev | next

© lcvehee | taglist is open: @secretiny @totheseok @renjuneoo @molensworld @wccycc @onlyhyunjin @mystarsohee @llearlert @nujeskz @yoursyuno @minkkumaz @rikisluv @xcosmi @zularen @vixensss @sftsohee

[woozinhos]

helloooo i love what you write 🫶🏻🫶🏻 can i request seventeen doing the unhooking your bra with the one hand thing? only if you're comfortable ❤️❤️😋

Anon I got you for reallllll ahh I’m so glad you like my writing I hope you like this one!

Scoups:

S.coups is standing behind you, his arms wrapped around your waist as he tries to unhook your bra with one hand. His fingers fumble with the clasp, and he lets out a frustrated huff.

"Why is this so damn difficult?" he mutters, his breath warm against your neck.

He tries again, his fingers deftly moving the clasp this way and that, but it's no use.

"Damn it," he growls, his patience wearing thin. "Why can't I get this stupid thing off?"

S.coups buries his face in the crook of your neck, his lips grazing against your skin as he continues to struggle with the bra.

"I swear, I'm going to buy you a front-opening bra," he grumbles, his breath sending shivers down your spine.

"Maybe I should just rip it off," he whispers huskily, his hands moving to your hips and pulling you closer to him.

Jeonghan:

Jeonghan stands behind you, his fingers expertly tracing the outline of your bra clasp. He leans in close, his chest pressed against your back, and whispers in your ear, "Let me show you how it's done."

With a quick flick of his wrist, he unhooks the bra, the clasp coming undone with ease. He smirks against your neck, clearly pleased with himself.

"See? It's all about technique," he says, his hands moving to gently slide the straps down your shoulders.

Jeonghan slides the bra off your body, his hands roaming over your now bare skin. He kisses your shoulder, his lips moving up to your neck as he continues to explore your body.

"You're so beautiful," he murmurs, his hands cupping your breasts and gently squeezing.

He pulls you closer, his body pressed against yours as he continues to kiss and nip at your skin.

"I can't wait to have you all to myself," he whispers, his breath hot against your ear.

Joshua:

Joshua tries to unhook your bra with one hand, but he's having a hard time keeping his focus. He's too distracted by the way your body feels pressed against his, and the sight of your bare skin. He fumbles with the clasp, his fingers trembling slightly as he struggles to undo it.

"Damn it," he mutters, clearly frustrated.

He tries again, his brow furrowed in concentration, but still unable to get the clasp to come undone. He lets out a sigh of defeat, burying his face in your neck.

"I give up," he murmurs, his breath hot against your skin. "This is impossible."

Joshua pulls away from you, a pout on his face.

"Why is this so hard?" he complains, running a hand through his hair. "I can't believe I'm failing at a simple challenge."

He looks at you, his eyes roaming over your body, clearly frustrated that he can't get what he wants.

"Can I just rip it off?" he asks, his hands resting on your hips. "Please?"

Jun:

Jun stands behind you, his fingers expertly unhooking your bra in a matter of seconds. He grins, clearly pleased with himself, and wraps his arms around your waist.

"Told you I could do it," he says, his lips brushing against your ear.

He pulls you back against him, his body pressed against yours.

"Now, what to do with you?" he whispers, his hands roaming over your body as he holds you close. Jun nuzzles into your neck, his hands continuing to explore your body.He runs his fingers along the underside of your breasts, his touch light and teasing.

"You're so responsive," he murmurs, his lips tracing a path down your neck. "I love the way you react to my touch."

He nips at your skin, his hands moving to cup your breasts again.

"I can't wait to taste you," he whispers, his thumbs gently rubbing over your nipples.

Hoshi:

Hoshi tries to unhook your bra, but his hands are too big and clumsy for the task. He struggles with the clasp for a few minutes, growing increasingly frustrated with each failed attempt.

"Why won't this damn thing come off?" he grumbles, his hands fumbling ineffectually. He tries to use both hands, but it's still no use. Finally, he gives up, letting out a sigh of defeat.

"I can't do it," he says, his shoulders slumping in defeat. "I'm too big for this stupid challenge."

Hoshi turns you around to face him, a pout on his face.

"You're just too much of a tease," he mutters, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you close. He buries his face in your neck, his breath hot against your skin.

"I'll have to punish you for this," he whispers, his hands sliding down to your hips and squeezing possessively.

Wonwoo:

Wonwoo takes his time with the challenge, his fingers moving slowly and deliberately over the clasp of your bra. He's focused, his eyes fixed on the task at hand, and it's clear that he's determined to get it right. After a few moments, he finally manages to unhook the bra, a small smile of satisfaction spreading across his face.

"Got it," he says, his hands moving to slide the straps off your shoulders. Wonwoo lets the bra fall to the floor, his eyes roaming over your now bare chest.He steps closer to you, his hands gently cupping your breasts.

"You look even more beautiful like this," he murmurs, his thumbs rubbing circles over your nipples.

He leans in, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispers, "I can't wait to take you apart, piece by piece."

Woozi:

Woozi's attempt is quick and efficient, his fingers moving with practiced ease. He unhooks your bra in a matter of seconds, a small smirk on his face.

"See? That wasn't so hard," he says, his hands coming to rest on your hips.

He looks up at you, his eyes dark with desire.

"Now, let's get this off," he murmurs, his fingers playing with the hem of your shirt.

Woozi lifts your shirt over your head, his eyes roaming over your body hungrily. He lets out a low whistle, his hands moving to explore your now bare skin.

"You're so perfect," he whispers, his touch sending shivers down your spine.

He pulls you closer, his lips capturing yours in a deep, passionate kiss. As he kisses you, his hands continue to roam over your body, his touch both gentle and possessive.

Minghao:

Minghao's attempt at the challenge is just as successful as the others. He unhooks your bra with ease, his fingers deftly undoing the clasp in a matter of seconds. He smirks at you, clearly pleased with himself.

"Too easy," he says, tossing the bra aside. He steps closer to you, his eyes raking over your body with a hungry look.

"Now that you're mine, I'm going to take my time exploring every inch of you," he whispers, his hands moving to rest on your hips.

Minghao pulls you close, his body pressing against yours as he begins to kiss and nip at your neck. He trails his lips down to your collarbone, his teeth grazing over your skin as he leaves a trail of marks. His hands roam over your body, his touch firm yet gentle as he explores every curve and dip. He moves lower, his lips trailing down to your chest as he begins to lavish attention on your breasts.

Mingyu:

Mingyu's attempt is a bit more...aggressive than the others. He rips your bra off in one swift motion, the sound of the clasp snapping echoing through the room.

He grins at you, clearly pleased with himself.

"Sorry, I got a little impatient," he says, his hands coming to rest on your hips.

He pulls you close, his body pressing against yours.

"But I can't help it when you look so damn sexy," he growls, his lips capturing yours in a heated kiss.

Mingyu deepens the kiss, his tongue slipping into your mouth as he pulls you even closer. His hands roam over your body, squeezing and caressing your curves as he kisses you senseless. He lifts you up, wrapping your legs around his waist as he carries you to the nearest wall. He presses you against the wall, his body pinning you in place as he continues to devour your mouth.

Dokyeom:

Dokyeom tries the challenge, but his eagerness and excitement get the better of him. He fumbles with the clasp of your bra, his hands shaking with anticipation.

"Come on, come on," he mutters, his brow furrowed in concentration.

Finally, after a few failed attempts, he manages to unhook the bra, but not without breaking the clasp in the process. He looks at the broken clasp in his hand, a sheepish grin on his face.

"Oops," he says, shrugging apologetically. "I guess I got a little too excited."

Dokyeom tosses the broken bra aside, his eyes roaming over your now bare chest.

"Well, at least I got it off," he says, his grin growing wider.

He steps closer to you, his hands resting on your hips.

"And now I get to have my way with you," he whispers, his eyes dark with desire.

Seungkwan:

Seungkwan takes his time with the challenge, his fingers moving slowly and deliberately over the clasp of your bra. He's focused, his tongue poking out in concentration as he works to unhook the clasp. After a few moments, he finally manages to get it undone, a triumphant smile spreading across his face.

"Got it!" he exclaims, his hands coming to rest on your shoulders.

He looks up at you, a smirk on his face.

"Look I didn't break anything," he says, clearly pleased with himself.

Seungkwan lets the bra fall to the floor, his eyes raking over your body. He steps closer to you, his hands moving to rest on your hips.

"You look even more stunning like this," he murmurs, his thumbs rubbing circles over your skin. He pulls you closer, his body pressed against yours.

"And now that I've got you all to myself..." he whispers, his lips brushing against your ear, "I'm going to make sure you remember this night forever."

Vernon:

Vernon takes a more relaxed approach to the challenge, his hands moving with a casual ease. He unhooks your bra in a few swift movements, a small smile on his face.

"Easy peasy," he says, tossing the bra aside. He looks at you, his eyes darkening with desire as he takes in your naked body.

"Damn, you're beautiful," he murmurs, his hands moving to gently caress your skin.

Vernon steps closer to you, his hands roaming over your body as he pulls you into a slow, sensual kiss. His lips move against yours languidly, his tongue exploring your mouth with a gentle yet insistent pressure. He breaks the kiss, his lips moving to your neck as he begins to trail a path of kisses down your skin.

"I've been waiting for this all day," he whispers, his breath hot against your skin.

Dino:

Dino's attempt at the challenge is both quick and effective. He unhooks your bra in a matter of seconds, his hands moving with practiced ease. He grins at you, clearly proud of himself.

"And that's how it's done," he says, tossing the bra aside. He looks at you, his eyes roaming over your body hungrily.

"You look so hot," he growls, his hands coming to rest on your hips as he pulls you closer.

Dino pushes you back against the wall, his body pressed against yours as he traps you in place. He captures your lips in a fierce kiss, his tongue invading your mouth as he dominates the kiss. His hands roam over your body, his touch firm and possessive as he claims you as his own. He breaks the kiss, his lips moving to your neck as he begins to nip and suck at your skin.

[thefandomsfervent]

Hi, I hope you don't mind me asking about Personal Pigments because I am so confused and do not take my cues well (from text or speech). I hope you don't take this the wrong way.

In personal pigments, what happens to Jayce and Viktor if Viktor and Reader do end up in a relationship? Because it's heavily implied (at least from what I understood) is that there's a romantic subtext between Jayce and Viktor that even the Y/N notices.

Is it platonic with romance mixed in with extreme respect for each other ++ their work and admiration?

What happens to the trio's relationship with each other? Do they all end up with each other if that was the case?

For other people reading this, there will be spoilers for personal pigments (a vik x reader soon to be jayvikxreader fic) so if you're not caught up to chapter 17 don't read this yet!

Hi anon! No worries, somethings aren't going to be clear to everyone because we all communicate differently, I appreciate the ask! I'll explain my intent more clearly with chapter examples and also answer your questions. I hope the word vomit isn't too bad lol.

You are correct that reader can tell that Jayce and Viktor are romantically involved! In Ch. 10 reader teases/asks them about their "partnership"and Jayce confirms that they are "not, not together". It's meant to be vague in the sense that J and V don't really know either but that they don't care at that moment to define it, they just know that they like each other without having to do anything about it because they are always together anyways. A closeness that didn't need a label because they both saw other people (flings) prior to and during their time as Hextech partners.

For J and V is been an undefined romantic but not yet sexual/physical situationship this whole time, where reader admires them and their work. In turn, J and V start to notice and admire reader. Since it started out as a non-poly fic/ V x reader fic we're seeing more from his POV so far about his feelings for reader. We will see more from Jayce's POV soon but some hints to it are in Chs 10(him noticing V admiring reader) and 12 (saying he missed reader and teasing V for missing reader). These are meant to be read as either platonic or romantic. Things move to a more romantic/ sexual turn when J notices reader watching his moments with V a bit closely in Ch13 and teases reader. We also see J think of reader's words as an innuendo and teasing V.

Ch 14 is where JayVik really comes to fruition as a J and V teeter the edge over a physical/sexual boundary with teasing. They've teased each other before as seen in previous chapters (descriptors or allusions to) but this time it's done with explicit intent to rile up. This chapter ends with Jayce saying "audiences are important" while looking at reader because that's where V is looking. This is meant to imply that J knows that V is interested in reader, and that J himself is also interested. Reader starts Ch 15 seeing the teasing and finding themself wanting to know more but staying away as the JayVik relationship is undefined but present. In Ch 16 while reader is gone on a walk with Mel, Jayce and Viktor finally define their relationship (albeit murkily) as something that is open and they kiss and celebrate. Getting drunk and leading to chapter 17 where Vik masturbates to the idea of both reader and Jayce. In this chapter we also see Reader becoming more aware of JayVik as a potential (since reader doesnt know for certain yet) to be relationship. At this point reader is still dense and likes both of them as friends while finding Viktor to be the most occupying of readers thoughts.

Reader is a bit slow on the uptake. And Jayce is loverboy who can and will love everyone. Since he enjoys reader as a friend, and enjoy V as something more, he likes that V enjoys reader as something more and wouldn't mind developing it with the three on them together. Canonically he has an undefined but very bf/gf like relationship with Mel that I do want to include.

So your questions: what happens to J and V if V and reader start dating? They stay together!

Is it platonic with romance mixed in with their extreme respect for each other ++ their work and admiration? Yes. It started as platonic for J and V that quickly grew to an undefined more before reader was ever present. Now that reader is there J and V admire each other and both admire reader. The two of them (i imagine anyway) respect and are drawn to people with drive. And reader admires their work for Hextech but also J and V's relationship as friends/more than friends because of their inherent trust and kindess for each other. For J and V it became romantic before reader but is defined now with reader because they both want to openly pursue her and potentially others (Mel in the case of Jayce).

What happens to the trio's relationship together? Do they all end up together if that's the case? I fully intend for this to be a slowburn on reader's part specifically. The short of it is all three of them together with potential for Mel to join as a fourth. She may remain as a hinge partner for Jayce that reader crushes on, just depends on how things develop as I keep writing.

Thank you so much for reading and asking, I hope this clarified things. Feel free to ask more questions, I may or may not answer them if the answerscwould reveal too much of the story I have planned. I do want to stick very closely to the canon though. Currently we are inbetween Act 1 and 2 of Season 1 during the 7 year timeskip.

[fruvittea]

whispers in the rain ✧�� · . part seven

— ✺ pairing: jay x reader x jake

— ✺ genre: slice of life, angst, suggestive, fluff, childhood best friend, love triangle, college au, slow burn

— ✺ synopsis: jay is your childhood best friend. that’s all he will ever be. a summer with jay and his friends changes how you feel for him when jake comes into your life. and jay begins to think that was a mistake. — ✺ chapter summary: things have been on your mind lately and jungwon and sunoo take things into their own hands taking you out for a good time. the day ends with deep conversations and rekindling.

— ✺ warnings: some of the members are aged up since there is mention of consuming alcohol in this fic!!

— ✺ word count: 3.1k

— ✺ authors note! thank you for your patience, this is the first fic I am writing and it has been so fun, I decided to change things up and include a cute little day where reader spends time with two different people for a change! thank you again for reading!!

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6 | part 7 | ...

Being in the presence of both Jay and Jake was tiring. So you went inside to take some time to yourself. You’re curled up on the couch, scrolling through your phone, when Sunoo plops down next to you.

“You, me, Jungwon. Ice cream and a thrift shop run and perhaps watching the sunset with your new besties,” he announces, already tugging at your arm.

Jungwon appears in the doorway, arms crossed but smiling softly. “You could use a break. We’ll be your emotional support for the day.”

Break? Have they really noticed that things have been on your mind?

You laugh and agree, the promise of a low-pressure outing too tempting to pass up. 

You laugh and nod. “Okay, okay, I’m in.”

You have yet to hang out with some of the group separately that wasn’t Jay or Jake so this was quite exciting. You always enjoyed Jungwon and Sunoo’s company. As you get up to grab your jacket, Sunoo suddenly turns to you with a mischievous glint in his eyes. “I’ll go tell Jay that you’re going out with us. He’s been hovering, right?” he adds, almost to himself, though it’s more of a statement than a question.

You blink, a bit caught off guard. “Sunoo, don’t—”

But before you can protest, Sunoo’s already halfway down the hall, heading straight for Jay’s room. You sigh, hoping this won’t turn into a bigger deal than it needs to be. 

A few moments later, Sunoo walks back into the room, Jay trailing behind him, a hesitant expression on his face. You could tell that he might’ve not wanting you to go, for whatever reason. He was being a real downer these days. (And it may or may not have been because of you and Jake hanging out). 

“You’re coming with us, Y/n,” Sunoo announces, voice light as he steps to the side. “We’re heading out for ice cream and a thrift shop run, then maybe a sunset hangout.” He throws a quick look at Jay, who’s still standing in the doorway, his arms crossed.

Jay looks at you, his expression unreadable. “Are you sure you want to go now? You looked like you had a lot on your mind earlier.” 

You  smile, shrugging your shoulders. “I’m good. Just need a little time away. I think it will be nice with Jungwon and Sunoo, my new besties.”

Sunoo, coming to your rescue, steps forward quickly. “It’s fine, Dad. Let her go. It’s just us hanging out, no big deal.” His tone is light but firm, clearly trying to ease the situation before it escalates. You couldn’t help but let out a small giggle. 

“Did you just call me da-” But before the two of your could hear Jay’s response, Sunoo lightly grabs your wrist and begins to pull you towards the door, a knowing smile on his face. “Come on, Y/n. We’ve got a full day of ice cream ahead.”

As you step outside, you hear footsteps behind you. You turn to see Jungwon approaching Jay, who’s still standing in the doorway, his body tense. Jungwon stops beside him, his expression calm but attentive.

“You’re worried,” Jungwon observes softly, glancing back at you and Sunoo, who are now on the way down the stairs. “But you need to let her breathe, Jay.”

Jay runs a hand through his hair, frustration clouding his face. “Well what are you two up to—”

“We just want to spend the day with her.,” Jungwon cuts him off gently, his tone firm but not harsh. “We know you have feelings for her, honestly finally, it’s been years. But c'mon you need to let her breathe. If she likes Jake then she likes him. If she is figuring her feelings out, let her. You’re her best friend, act like it.”  

Jay’s jaw tightens slightly, but he doesn’t argue. Instead, he lowers his gaze, looking conflicted. Had he really been making you feel bad? 

“Just… cool down, alright? Let her have some space,” Jungwon adds, his voice softening as he places a reassuring hand on Jay’s shoulder. “She’ll come to you when she’s ready. But for now, let her have this time to herself.”

Jay doesn’t respond immediately, but his posture shifts slightly, as if Jungwon’s words are beginning to sink in. He watches you for a moment before exhaling, his shoulders slumping a little.

“Yeah,” Jay mutters, almost to himself. “I’ll… I’ll cool down.”

Jungwon gives him a small nod, his smile encouraging, before turning to follow you and Sunoo.

—

“So I saw this cute ice cream place in downtown with really cool flavors. I think we should go there, it’s called Sundae’s.” Jungwon puts the location in his phone and follows the route. You in the passengers seat and Sunoo sitting in the back. To your surprise the car ride with the two was so pleasant, Sunoo just singing along to the music in the back and Jungwon sparking up a casual conversation with you.

“You know I don’t think we’ve hung out before.” Jungwon’s head turned to you briefly before going back to the road. 

“I actually was thinking the same, it’s nice that I’m going out with the two of you.” You play with you fingers a little. 

“Yah, it’ll be fun!” Sunoo chimes in making you smile. 

At the ice cream shop Sunoo insists on ordering first, going for an extravagant and colorful flavor. Jungwon watches with an amused smile before opting for a simple green tea scoop. When it’s your turn, both boys playfully judge your choice—earl gray tea.

“What are you a grandma?” Sunoo judges before taking a spoonful of his ice cream.

“Hey! In fact I like earl gray, it tastes good.” You shrug him off, continuing to eat your scoop.

“It’s a solid pick in my opinion.” Jungwon adds in. 

The three of you sat down on a bench around the corner of the ice cream shop. Jungwon invested in his ice cream and Sunoo trying to pry out facts about you.

“Well what do you want to know?” You turn to him curious about his response.

“Mmm how did you and Jay become friends, because in my opinion I don’t see how you enjoy him.” You let out a laugh using a napkin to wipe the melted ice cream from your fingers. 

“We met in elementary school, he was always teasing me for not being able to color in the lines. I remember looking over at his paper and it was equally as bad. But anyways he would always tease me and I would do it back. We kind of just stuck together even after elementary and middle school. Now that I come to think of it I don’t know how we became friends because of how we started.” You continue to eat your ice creams reminiscing when it was just the two of you.

“That sounds like him…always teasing or nitpicking.” Jungwon lets out an airy laugh. “I mean rooming with him freshman year at the dorms, he would tell me to do my laundry a certain way, I guess he has always been like that huh?” 

"Yeah he has, I think that’s one of the things I like about him though, it’s his odd way of caring I guess.” You don’t look at any of the two boys afraid they’ll see right through you and your feelings. 

—

By the time you three finish ice cream, Jungwon is already inputting the thrift store into his maps. It was a short drive down the street but the three of you insisted on walking in order to walk off the ice cream. 

Sunoo immediately dove into the racks, pulling out the most outrageous outfits he can find and making you and Jungwon model them. At one point, he holds up a neon jacket, declaring it your “new vibe.”

Jungwon shakes his head, picking out a simple but stylish sweater for you instead. “This is more your speed,” he says with a small smile.

“Actually yeah, this for once is something I would wear.” You take the sweater from Jungwon and go to try it on. It was the perfect size, not too baggy and it was a nice creme color. 

Sunoo rolls his eyes but agrees, muttering about Jungwon’s “boring” taste.

Hours go by and you all go your separate ways in the store, actually taking the act of thrifting seriously You buy the sweater along with a thin green cardigan, Jungwon buys a leather jacket and Sunoo also finds a couple sweaters to purchase as well. The three of you proudly talk about the luck you had in the shop. 

—

As the three of you walk back to the car you hear your stomach growl. Before you could even open your mouth to tell them you were hungry Jungwon put a place into his phone. “Don’t worry, I was also getting hungry in the store, tacos sound good?” You and Sunoo agree and Jungwon starts the car heading to the spot. 

It was a nice little area, some chairs and tables set up with people eating in a parking lot with a taco truck up front. You all ordered takeout because Sunoo wanted to go to a  nearby park that had a pretty view of the ocean. Sitting atop a picnic blanket you three eat your tacos raving about how good they were.

Sunoo marvels at the ocean while Jungwon uses the left over napkins to make paper cranes.

“Where’d you learn to do that?” you ask, watching him with fascination.

He shrugs. “My sister taught me. It’s calming.”

Sunoo leans in with a smirk. “It’s also his way of avoiding deep conversations.”

Jungwon glares at him, but there’s no malice in it. “Says the guy who changes the subject every time someone asks about his love life.”

Their playful banter makes you smile, and for the first time in days, you feel a genuine lightness in your chest.

The day winds down with the three of you still at the park watching as the sun begins to set. Sunoo talks about his dreams and aspirations, his usual humor tinged with rare sincerity. Jungwon listens intently, occasionally offering quiet words of encouragement.

At some point, Sunoo excuses himself to “explore the area,” leaving you and Jungwon alone.

The silence is comfortable, filled with the sound of rustling leaves and distant laughter.

“You seemed happier today,” Jungwon says after a while, glancing at you.

You nod. “Thanks to you and Sunoo. I didn’t realize how much I needed this.”

He smiles softly, his eyes warm. “You’ve grown to become important to us. Don’t forget that.”

The sun dips below the horizon, casting long shadows as you, Jungwon, and Sunoo sit on the grassy hill, watching the colors of the sky change. Sunoo has his legs stretched out, lazily reclining against a tree, while Jungwon is next to you, eyes focused on the distant view. There’s a comfortable silence between the three of you, but it feels like there’s something unspoken hovering in the air.

After a few minutes, Jungwon clears his throat, glancing at Sunoo before turning his attention to you.

“Hey, y/n,” he starts, his voice casual but there’s a hint of curiosity underneath. “Can we ask you something?”

You turn your head slightly, meeting his eyes. “Sure, what’s up?”

Sunoo, who's been unusually quiet, perks up, looking at you with a sly smile. “Have you noticed any… tension between Jay and Jake recently?”

You freeze for a moment, the question slightly catching you off guard. You had a feeling the two would ask, afterall they are Jay and Jake’s friends. Plus t he tension between the two had been palpable lately, and though you’ve tried to ignore it, it’s impossible not to feel the weight of it when you’re around them. You glance down at your hands, fingers fidgeting with the hem of your sweater.

“Yeah, I’ve noticed,” you admit, sighing softly. “It’s a little hard to ignore.”

Jungwon watches you carefully. “Do you think it’s something serious? Or just a misunderstanding?”

You pause, trying to sort out your own feelings before speaking. “I’m not sure,” you murmur. “But I think it’s about more than just little things. I’ve never seen them like this before.”

There’s a heavy silence that falls over you, and you know both of them are watching you intently, waiting for you to continue. Sunoo leans forward, his usual playful demeanor replaced with a serious, almost concerned expression.

“Can we ask you something else?” Sunoo asks. 

“Yeah go ahead.” You nod.

“Do you…have feelings for Jay? Or did you ever have feelings for him?” His tone was soft almost hesitant as if he was debating on asking you about Jay.

You feel your heart race, a flush creeping up your neck. Jungwon, who’s always been quiet and thoughtful, looks at you with gentle curiosity, giving you the space to respond. But you can tell they’re both waiting for an honest answer.

You swallow hard, feeling the weight of the question settle in your chest. “I… yeah, I guess I always did,” you admit, the words coming out in a whisper. “Jay’s been my best friend for so long. I think I had a crush on him pretty much my whole life.”

The confession hangs in the air, and Sunoo’s eyes widen for a moment, before he offers a knowing, if somewhat sympathetic, smile. “That makes sense. It’s obvious how close you two are. But…?”

You glance down, unable to meet their eyes. “But I think it’s fading,” you whisper. “The crush, I mean.” You pause, your fingers tugging at the edges of your sweater, unsure of how to continue. “It’s hard to admit, but… I feel like something’s different now. I don’t know if I’m holding on to something that’s not really there anymore.”

Jungwon shifts slightly, leaning forward to look at you with a softer gaze. “It’s okay to feel that way. You’re not wrong for letting go of something that doesn’t feel right anymore.”

You nod, taking a deep breath, but the guilt creeps in. You feel like you're betraying something, or someone. "But I also don’t want to let go,” you admit, the words tumbling out. “I feel guilty about it, but when I’m with Jake, I don’t feel that way. He makes me feel good. He makes me laugh, and he listens to me. He’s different, and... I enjoy spending time with him. And with Jay too."

You trail off, unsure of what else to say. The emotions feel tangled, and you’re still processing everything that’s happening between you, Jay, and Jake. But you could tell the two boys on either side of you were listening intently, figuring out what to sway next. Sure it admitting these thoughts and feelings you’ve been having was not what you were expecting to do today, it was still nice to be able to release the weight and let somebody in. 

Sunoo’s voice breaks through the whirlwind of your thoughts. “It’s okay to like both of them. You’re not doing anything wrong by being honest with yourself,” he says, his tone calm but supportive. “Feelings don’t follow a strict path. It’s complicated, but that’s life.”

Jungwon, who’s been quietly listening, nods in agreement. “And whatever you decide to do, we’re here for you. It’s okay to take your time and figure out what you want. No one’s rushing you.”

Jake and Jay are, you want to say but refrain. Could the tension really be because of you? You finally look at them both, their expressions soft and understanding. For the first time today, you feel like you can breathe, knowing that someone—two people—are there to support you no matter what. You smile weakly, grateful for their patience.

“Thanks, guys,” you say, your voice full of sincerity. “It means a lot.”

The three of you sit in silence again, but this time, it’s comforting. There are no expectations, no pressure to figure things out immediately. Just the quiet support of friends who understand that life—and love—aren’t always as simple as they seem.

As the night continues the three of you decide to make your way back to the house. 

-

Opening the door to your room you place your bag from the thrift store onto the ground. Laundry can wait. Tomorrow I’ll do laundry, maybe Jay will end up taking over. You lay down on your bed and scroll through your phone until you hear a faint knock on the door. 

“Can I come in?” 

“Yeah.” 

The door opens and Jay appears. He was in his pajamas, his hair messy. You look at him and you couldn’t help but feel your heartbeat a little faster. He closes the door and sits at the edge of your bed. You were sitting against the headboard watching his every move. 

“How was your day out with Jungwon and Sunoo?” He asked.

“I actually had a really good time, I haven’t hung out with the two of them before and I really enjoyed it. They are really good friends Jay, I’m glad you found them in college.” Jay can’t help but smile. You always had something nice to say and that was something he really appreciated about you, something he really liked about you. 

“I’m sorry for seeming like a dad…Is it bad that I sometimes just want you to myself?” He paused, realizing what he said. “Li-like you know because we were friends first.” He let out a nervous laugh scratching the back of his neck. Shit. 

You play with the sheets, unsure of what to say, but if you don’t say anything it’ll be even more awkward. 

“I’ve felt that way too Jay, it’s okay, but hey I mean we’re getting older, things like this do happen.” You give him a smile. It is true you have definitely felt that way, especially when with his girl friends in high school. But of course you left that small detail out. 

“Yeah…” Jay’s eyes focus on the sheets of the bed. He didn’t want to leave just yet. Neither did you want him to, but you both didn’t say anything. Instead you both kept the conversation going little by little. You showed him your thrift haul and he told you about the book that he was  able to start that day. It was nice, like the two of you were back in routine again. 

You and Jay both ended up falling asleep on your bed, him curled up by the foot of your bed, you under the sheets diagonally across. 

✴︎🪷𓈒͏ུུ̑̑. ཉ — by @fruvittea

🏷️ tag list: @kyunlov @kawaiijellyfishtimetravelr

💌 pm me or comment if you want to be on the tag list !!

[eggrollforyou]

How Can I Say I Love You Part 2

Law x F!Reader

WC: 4191

CW: angst to fluff, parental/parental figure loss, tooth aching fluff, minor Law backstory spoilers (if you're not caught up through Dressrosa), seems like an OC but I'm too lazy for that, so leader insert 🤣, mutual pining, post time skip 

A/N: Thank you all for patiently waiting for part 2! I'm not super confident on part 2 so feedback would be wonderful!! I hope you enjoy!

Part One

He's chasing after you, running through the thick tropical forest, dodging fallen trees and cutting through vines getting in his way from catching up to you. “Y/N! Wait! I have a safe place to hideout!” he calls out to you hoping to get you to finally stop. You slow down to a jog, breathing heavily, “Well, why the fuck didn't you say that sooner, Law?” you grin at him. “I'll follow you,” you huff. He quickly leads you back toward the shore line, you hear the waves crashing and smell the sea air. Suddenly he stops and puts his hand out. You look at him curiously and he smirks at you, “Room….” You begin to question him, “What are y-” 

“Shambles.”

Suddenly you're in a room with metal walls and it takes you a moment to get your bearings. “Whoa…Law, what the fuck was that?” you ask as you set the heaping bag of stolen goods down on the floor with a loud thud. 

“Still causing mischief, I see,” he chuckles. “Don't worry, we're safe. You're on my ship.” 

“Ship?!”

“The Polar Tang. I'm the Captain of the Heart Pirates, you haven't seen our bounty posters?” he brags, cheeks slightly turning pink as he realizes what he's doing. “Well, look at you,” you beam at him. “Give me a tour!” you practically yell as you lunge forward bringing him into a big hug. You don't see it, but Law’s face and ears are pink at your show of affection. He reaches his arms around you to return the hug, hesitantly, processing as if this were real. He relishes in the smell of you, you smell like the sea with a hint of coconut and amber and his heart swells for a moment. His feelings for you rushing back like a tsunami, like they were a book tucked away on a dusty shelf in the back of a library to be pulled out again. He clears his throat and pulls back quickly, fearing you'll see how he feels for you, even after all these years. “C’mon, I'll show you around,” his voice suddenly stern and serious.

Law gives you a tour of the submarine and as he goes into the most boring explanation of what it takes to operate one, you get lost in your thoughts. He's here, in front of me again. Your heart skips a beat. You were never able to muster the courage to express your feelings for him. He was always brilliant, you knew he'd be able to make it as a pirate and here he was, Captain (and a doctor) to a crew that you could tell he loved, despite his seriousness. The Surgeon of Death. But you still saw the young man that you fell for years ago. Always ready for an adventure, ready for a fight. But he was always softer with you, late at night as you both pointed out constellations to each other, watching for shooting stars. Seeing the universe reflected in his eyes. You snapped out of it when you heard him say they were leaving in the morning. “You're leaving?” He nods. “Um…I have a huge favor to ask, could I hitch a ride to your next stop? Clearly I've exhausted what I could here…” you chuckle as you wring your fingers together nervously. “I won't be a lout, I promise, I'll take on whatever duties I need to earn my keep,” you rattle quickly. 

How could Law ever tell you no? His heart is practically jumping out of his chest, but he has to keep himself in check. Clearing his throat again, “H-how about you just stay with us for a while… A-as long as you need.” he asks nervously, rubbing his hand on the back of his neck. “Are you sure?,” he nods,”Thank you, Law! I promise, I won't cause any trouble,” quick to accept before he changes his mind. He smiles warmly at you, “Yea, I’m sure. Let me take you to your quarters.” He shows you where you'll be staying, “Well, I guess this is where I'll leave you. Get some rest. I have a lot of work to do, so I'll be in my office. I'll introduce you to the crew when they return.”

“Thank you, Law. Really….it…it's really nice to see you again,” you say quietly. He nods at you, “It's good to see you too,” and he turns around and walks down the hall to go back to his office. You flop yourself down on the small bed, finally able to take a breath. How in the world does this keep happening? Maybe I should tell him? Your heart aches slightly. What would that accomplish? I'm not staying forever….maybe I should just keep my mouth shut. Back in his office Law contemplates the same quandary. I should tell her….at least it'll help with the regret….oh, who am I fucking kidding?! What does it matter, she's not staying forever…. It's pointless. I shouldn't say anything. He shakes his head at his resolution, but part of him can’t quell the excitement of you being around for just a bit longer. Looking over at his piles of paperwork he takes a deep sigh and pulls a stack in front of him, grabbing the papers on the top. 

Later that evening the entire crew returned to the ship. You giddily greet Bepo, jumping into the big ball of fluff in a warm embrace, “Y/N!!!! Garchu!” he yells as he nuzzles his soft face onto yours, nearly smothering you as you laugh. You give Penguin and Shachi a hug as well. They're still the same silly group you remember fondly. Everyone on the ship is very welcoming, but as soon as Law walks into the galley, their demeanor shifts. They quieten down from their raucous conversations as he looks over the crew giving them a nod. Shachi and Penguin loudly shout, “Captain! Look! It's Y/N,” as they wiggle their eyebrows with sly grins on their faces- as if they didn't know he was the one that brought you on board. He gives them a stern look, trying to hide his mortification. He always tried to hide the depth of his feelings about you but they knew him better than that. 

They constantly teased him, “When are you gonna tell her you like her?!”

“You never know, she might like you too.”

“Don't be a baby!”

He clears his throat, and in a commanding voice you weren’t used to hearing coming out of Law, “Everyone. We have a guest,” he motions to your direction, “Y/N. She'll be with us for a while. I've added her to rotations. The revisions are posted. I expect you all to continue to meet your duties and I expect you all to train her and get her up to speed for the next few weeks.”

“Yes, Captain,” everyone agrees. 

This version of Law looks good on him, you think. And suddenly, you find yourself pining after him again like when you were 15. You fight the blush creeping up your chest and your cheeks. Instead, you distract yourself joking with your old friends through the remainder of dinner. 

Weeks have passed and you've found your rhythm on the ship. In the time you've spent here, you've noticed that Law has grown up to be much more serious. He doesn't joke around much anymore and he's often brooding in his office. Well, you think he's brooding. You don't really know what he does in there, but he spends a lot of time in it. One day you decide to find out, walking up to his door when you were off duty, knocking gently. “Come in,” he calls out. You slowly open the door and poke your head in, “Hi! Just wanted to stop by and see how you were doing. You’ve been locked away in here for days and the smell is starting to seep out into the halls.” Law’s eyes grow wide as he tries to nonchalantly hide smelling himself by faking a stretch. You giggle at his reaction and his gaze instantly softens a bit, “O-Oh….yea, I’m good. Just reading,” as he holds up the most recent medical textbook he's drowned himself in. 

You walk in, making your way to his desk, peering over all the scattered reports and journals, “Hmmm..boring! Do you have anything GOOD to read?” you joke. He peers over to his bookshelf, “Not much, I don’t get a lot of time for recreational reading but I have stuff on that shelf. You’re welcome to read anything there….just, don’t let it leave the office please.” You look over the various books, some science fiction, Hmm, never thought he’d be into science fiction, until you see a smaller set, Sora comics. You remember him going on and on about these comics when he was younger. “You still have these?” you snort pulling a few copies out. Law glances over to see what you’re holding. “Well…yea. Those are awesome…just please, be careful with them. They’re hard to come by outside of the North Blue,” he warns. You hum in agreement as you sit down in the chair he has by the bookshelf, “Do you mind?” You ask as you peer over the top of the comic. Law nods, “Go for it.” You both sit in the quiet room, the only discernible sounds are each of you turning pages as you read. It's a quiet comfort. One that turns into a routine after a few weeks. You find yourself more in his office than your own room to relax. He's set up a small corner for you, moving the spare chair over to make space for a small end table. Letting you keep a blanket on the chair. 

Sometimes when neither of you can focus, you simply chat with a warm drink. There's always a chill in the air being in the submarine, despite the close quarters. But you find comfort in your blanket and with Law's company. Over the weeks, the crew have noticed a change in Law’s behavior. He's less…harsh. He seems happier, despite being as quiet as he usually is. It's a welcome change. 

With all the time you've spent together, you're in Law’s thoughts even more. He wishes he had the courage to say those three little words, but the thought terrifies him. He didn't want the target on his head to shift to yours by mere association. He wouldn't be able to forgive himself if something happened to you. 

One evening, you were both in his office. Reading, as usual. You made a habit to start buying a few books at every island stop. Adding to Law’s library. You picked up a few books, some silly new romance series the shopkeeper recommended. Maybe it was the book giving you the courage, but you felt like you couldn't hold your feelings back anymore. You peeked over at him, watching him intently as he was lost in his own reading. You loved the way his nose crinkled a little bit when he was reading something that really caught his attention, the way his tongue poked the inside of his cheek, deep in concentration. His raven locks, ruffled and messy from him taking off his hat. 

Your heart fluttered thinking about his hands, how warm they must be. What they would feel like with his fingers intertwined with yours. Suddenly, you break the silence, “Law…” he peers over at you. “Hmm?” He hums.  “Have you…have you had any…. romantic interests?” you ask before you realize what you're saying. Your face suddenly dusted with pink, hoping he can't see your blush in the dim ambient light. Law’s eyes grow wide in surprise, he opens his mouth and closes it again, unsure what to say. He shifts, sitting straight up, “Um…no, not really...there was someone, but….nothing ever happened. Nothing..COULD happen,” he grows quiet. Hoping to keep his answers vague and short so you wouldn't press. “Mmmm,” you ponder. Could he be talking about me? Sure, our time together was short, but everything with him feels so…right. Like this is all second nature…he feels like…home. Law quickly returns his gaze to his book. He was dying to ask you the same but he didn't want to step further into the territory. “Have you ever thought about….us?” you ask pensively, staring in his direction, afraid to make eye contact. Suddenly, Law coughs, “N-no….I, uh, I think I should get to bed. Long day tomorrow,” he gets up quickly. “Stay as long as you'd like,” he grumbles as he hurriedly walks out of the office heading straight to his quarters. You're left dumbfounded in the office. Unsure what happened and unable to collect your thoughts about it. You thought you read him correctly, you thought he liked you and enjoyed your company as much as you enjoyed his. You stand up, fighting hot tears threatening to spill from your eyes. Walking back to your room, completely dejected.

At lunch a few days later, Shachi and Penguin sit down next to you, as you pick at your food, unable to scrounge up much of an appetite. “Y/N, what's up? You seem….upset,” Shachi asks. it startles you out of your thoughts, “OH! It's….nothing. Probably just need some sunshine. Still not used to living in a submarine,” you force a chuckle. They look at each other with a knowing glance but quickly return to looking at you before you notice. “Yeah, it can take some getting used to, but we've only got a few more days left until our next stop, so you'll have the ground beneath your feet soon enough,” Penguin adds. You sigh, “Yeah, I'm sure some sunshine will fix me right up,” forcing a half smile. 

You just wanted to sit and chat with Law but it seemed like he was avoiding you since that night in his office. You wanted to crack a joke and see his smile. He seemed so easily flustered now, you wanted to mess with him, make him laugh. He's changed a lot, you think. I just gotta make it through another few days and I can figure out what I'm doing next. I always thought he might've liked me, but obviously things have changed. We were so young… Maybe my time here is coming to an end. I should think about getting off at the next stop.

Later that evening, it's long after dinner, and you're finally off duty. Sitting in the galley again, playing cards and drinking games with Ikkaku, Shachi, and Penguin. Suddenly, Law comes in to grab a snack and water, taking a break from reading his medical journals. “C’mon! Captain! Take a break with us,” Shachi calls over. Your shoulders tighten and you freeze. You look over and see Law. He makes eye contact with you but quickly breaks it, swallowing the bite of rice ball he was chewing on, “I've got papers t-” he gets cut off by Shachi, “Aw, don't say that. Just a couple games and one drink, Captain, and we'll leave you alone.” You stare, wide-eyed, holding your breath as the rest of the group plead with him. He sighs in defeat, “Okay. Okay.. Just a little bit, and only to shut you up,” he puts his hands up in fake surrender. You let out the breath you didn't realize you were holding when he sits down at the table, giving him a shy but sad smile when he looks at you again. 

As the night goes on, you continue your drinking and card games. It's been several games and drinks but Law is enjoying the break and decides his work can wait a little longer. He relaxes as the alcohol works its way into his system. Before long, it's late into the night. Shachi and Penguin are passed out on the table, Ikkaku has gone to bed, and it's just you and Law. You aren't even sure what card game you're playing anymore, well into the tipsy territory after your 5 beers. “So, what are your plans when your time with us is done?” Law asks quietly, trying to hide how his heart hurts at the thought.  “Um…y’know, I'm not sure. I haven't really gotten that far yet. I just kind of island-hop where I can. I can't really make a ‘normal’ job work. I mean..especially with what I've had to do to make ends meet,” you chuckle. “Yeah…being a wanted thief will put a damper on that,” Law laughs. You suck your teeth, “Tch, yeah, I suppose. But I'm a really good shot, so I pick up odd jobs with other miscreants where I can,” you wink. Your first real smile in days. Law’s heartstrings tug at that smile. He's stolen glances of you around the ship. You've not had a real smile since that night, he can tell they're forced and part of him feels guilty. He's wanted nothing more than to be with you the entire time you've been on the ship. Hug you close, run his hands through your hair, kiss you….tell you how much you meant to him. Should I ask her to join the crew? Should I just tell her how I feel? He thinks about what it would be like to climb into bed with you, pull you into his chest and wake up to your beautiful smile first thing in the morning but suddenly he's snapped from his thoughts as he feels your hand on top of his, not realizing you asked him a question. “Law, you ok?” You ask. “Sorry, I must be tired, what did you say?”

“What are your plans? I mean, you've got being a pirate down, clearly, but do you have a goal in mind?” The warmth from your hand radiates into his and spreads through his body. Suddenly he feels flushed. “I…uh..I have a plan in the works. First, it's gotta start with becoming a Warlord,” he says quickly, snapping himself out of his daydream. “Oh? Warlord, huh? That sounds….dubious, but I'm sure you could pull it off. You've got a great crew, and your devil fruit powers are pretty formidable, I'm sure you'll get there,” you give him a cheeky grin, bumping your shoulder into his, completely forgetting how you scared him off before.

Your actions of getting close to him are bolder, the alcohol leaving all your inhibitions behind. “I look forward to reading about your adventures in the paper, now that I know to look out for the Heart Pirates and their handsome Captain,” your voice practically a whisper. Law's eyes go wide, Did she just say handsome?! You lean forward, steeling your resolve to just kiss him. You're so close to each other, you can feel each other's breath and suddenly, Law coughs, sitting up quickly, “I, uh, I gotta go. Papers to read…reports…goodnight,” he says tight lipped and he's gone before you can blink twice. You're left sitting at the table, heart cracked and slowly bleeding. Fighting the burning tears building up in your eyes, you take a deep breath and wake up Shachi and Penguin, “Get to bed boys, it's late,” as you get up to go to bed. 

Once you make it to your bed, you try to find some comfort and shed your tears into your pillow until sleep takes you. Law stands quietly outside your room with his finger about to tap on your door until he hears you. Heart aching as he hears your sobs and he quietly retreats. You fucking idiot.

Law spends the next few days absolutely avoiding you, you decide. He’s shifted his meal times to eat before the rest of the crew or when he couldn’t swing that, he would eat in his office. When he sees you on the ship, walking toward each other, he immediately veers off or turns around. It hurts you every time and it kills Law every time he sees your face fall because he’s the cause of your pain. And you continued to blame your woeful demeanor on the lack of sunlight. No one bought it but they all kept their comments to themselves. Except for Shachi and Penguin who would occasionally throw a jab at Law wondering if he was EVER going to tell you how he really felt. This is for the best. It’s best for her, it’ll keep her safe. The ship was fast approaching the next island stop to restock. You were spending your last few hours being with your friends, new and old, heart already aching because you would be leaving them, unsure when you’d see them again. When the ship docked, you left with the crew, bag hoisted over your shoulder to head into town. Law looked at you with forlorn eyes, “Are you- are you leaving?” You return his same sad gaze, “Uh, yeah, sorry. I meant to tell you sooner but I couldn't ever pin you down. But I'll be happy to help with this last restock. I'm going with Ikkaku,” as you point to the island. You couldn’t bear to leave just yet. 

You checked into the Inn and deposited your bag, heading back out with Ikkaku to run your final errands with this rag tag group of pirates that you’ve come to love in your time with them. 

“Captain, you’ve GOTTA tell her. This is like the universe screaming at you! You can’t NOT listen to the universe…”Penguin jabs at Law, Shachi standing next to him, arms crossed. They’re both clearly fed up with Law’s inability to deal with his emotions. After all, you were their friend too. Bepo walks up, “Huh? What’s going on guys?”

“We’re trying to convince the Captain to pull his head out of his ass and tell Y/N how he feels,” Shachi tells Bepo. “Oooooh, yea! Captain, PLEASE, ask her to stay! She’s been a great part of the crew,” he practically yells, unable to contain his excitement at the prospect of you staying. Law crosses his arms, “Will you three knock it off?! It’s not that easy…..I mean…she probably wants nothing to do with me at this point. I…I don’t know how to fix this, and she’ll be better off without. She gets into enough trouble on her own as it is, the last thing she needs is my target on her back as well,” he argues. “She can take care of herself, Captain. Why don't you let her make that decision for herself?” Shachi quips back with Penguin nodding in agreement. Law sighs. Ok. Fine. They're right, I have to tell her. 

You were making your way back to the ship after a couple hours running errands with Ikkaku. The closer you got, the harder it was. It meant that you would be walking away from something you grew to cherish so much. All those nights you spent finding your thoughts drifting to Law when you laid out underneath the star lit sky when you were alone, and you managed to find him again, only to leave. It made your body heavy, your chest hurt, feeling like your heart was wrenching. You took in a deep breath. Readying yourself for the goodbye you felt you were forced to make but didn't want to. I never got to say goodbye the last two times. Maybe I can find some closure with a goodbye on my own terms. You set the bags down with Ikkaku on the deck, others ready to grab it, taking them down into the bowels of the ship. Law walks over and clears his throat quietly. Ikkaku looks up, “Oh, hi Captain, I'll, uh, leave you two alone,” she walks off. It's the quietest you've ever seen her. She looks at you with a somber gaze and a half smile. You pull a hand out from behind your back, giving a small wave. 

“Look, Law, it's ok, you don't have to-”

“Y/N,” he sighs, collecting his thoughts, trying to calm his nerves. “I-I….love you. Please…please don't leave. I'm sorry I'm such an idiot…. I've always loved you. I-” you cut him off, jumping onto him. Pressing your lips to his in a fervent kiss. He grabs your body tightly, holding it to him, not leaving any space between you. As you wrap your legs around him, gripping your arms tightly over his shoulders, around his neck. He returns your kiss, pouring all of the feelings he tried to hide away into it. You pull away to breathe, resting your forehead on his as you try to catch your breath. “I love you too, Law.” He presses a long kiss, closing his eyes, to your forehead. “Don't leave, join my crew. Be with me, please. I never stopped thinking about you all these years. Let me show you how much I love you. I'll spend the rest of my days making up for lost time,” he pleads. “I thought you'd never ask,” you smile as he carries you into the ship.

Tags: @shy-writer-999 @dreamcastgirl99

Dividers by @cafekitsune