#5 hours of sleep. and bad sleep too. the kind where it feels like your brain played loud static all night instead of good dark silence.

[rootedinrevisions]

Unplanned Journeys: Part 1

SUMMARY: You’ve been feeling off—tired, anxious, and full of doubt. When the realization hits that you could be pregnant, your world shifts. As you struggle with the weight of the situation and avoid Jake, the truth becomes impossible to ignore. When you finally tell Jake, the conversation is filled with tension and fear.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Thanks to the Anon who sent the request for this in! I hope you enjoy it! Also, there will be AT LEAST two more parts to this coming. I haven't decided yet how long I want to make this story quite yet.

WARNINGS: Angst. Unplanned pregnancy.

WORD COUNT: 4.1K

TAG LIST: @omgbrianab I @shanimallina87 I @fanficmom94 I @smoothdogsgirl I @djs8891 

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It started as something small—just a slight sluggishness that you chalked up to long hours and a busy schedule. After all, everyone had days where they felt off, right? You didn’t think much of it at first. Maybe you hadn’t been drinking enough water or were pushing yourself too hard at the gym with the new workout routine you had taken up. But the fatigue lingered, heavier than usual. The exhaustion hit you mid-morning, the kind that left you wanting to crawl back into bed despite a full night’s sleep.

By day three, the headaches came. Sharp and persistent, not debilitating but enough to make focusing at work a struggle. You found yourself squinting at the screen, rubbing at your temples, wondering if your caffeine intake had anything to do with it. Coffee had always been your crutch, but suddenly it wasn’t helping. That in itself seemed odd—coffee usually gave you a little boost, but lately, it just left you feeling more nauseated than energized.

As you sat at your desk, half-listening to a Zoom meeting you were supposed to be engaged in, you absentmindedly reached for your phone. Flipping through your calendar, you skimmed the past couple of weeks, your thumb freezing as a realization crept in. You were late. Not by a lot—but enough to notice.

You glanced at the calendar again, frowning. Surely, it couldn’t be that. Your cycle was sometimes a day or two off. It wasn’t something to worry about. But still… you couldn’t shake the feeling, the quiet voice in the back of your mind that whispered that maybe this wasn’t just an irregular month.

No. You shook your head slightly, trying to clear the thought. You were on birth control. You and Jake had been careful. This was just your mind overreacting, connecting dots that weren’t there. But then a new thought slithered its way into your consciousness. A few weeks ago, you’d been sick—laid out with that stubborn cold. You’d gone to the doctor and gotten antibiotics.

Antibiotics…

Your breath caught in your throat as you suddenly remembered the doctor’s warning. Something about your birth control being less effective. At the time, you’d been too focused on just wanting to feel better, not giving much thought to how the medication could affect anything else.

The nausea from your coffee earlier that morning felt more like a bad omen now.

You leaned back in your chair, your heart thudding a little harder in your chest. No. It couldn’t be that. You were just being paranoid. But now, you couldn’t stop thinking about it. The headaches. The exhaustion. The nausea from foods that had never made you nauseous before. Your pulse quickened as you stared at the calendar, connecting the dots. Could it really be? The thought hung there, weighty and terrifying. What if you were…?

The panic bubbled up, threatening to spill over, but you pushed it down. You needed answers, not speculation. You couldn’t keep spiraling like this. There was only one way to know for sure.

Without a second thought as soon as you were clocked out at 5:01pm, you grabbed your keys and purse, practically bolting for the door. There was a CVS just a few blocks away. The sooner you took the test, the sooner you could put this fear to rest.

As you hurried toward your car, your thoughts raced alongside you, a thousand different scenarios flashing in your mind. What if it’s positive? What would Jake say? Would he leave?

The short drive back to your apartment felt like miles, the little white CVS bag clutched in your hand felt heavier than it should have been. Each minute only magnified the gnawing uncertainty in your chest.

The moment you stepped through your front door, the cool air of your small apartment hit you, but it did little to calm the heat of your rising anxiety. You shut the door behind you, leaning against it for a moment as if delaying what you knew you had to do would somehow make the looming possibility disappear.

Your heart raced as you walked to the bathroom, the test still tucked in its box as though keeping it sealed would keep the truth hidden a little longer. You set it on the counter, staring at your reflection in the mirror. You looked tired. Your skin was paler than usual, dark circles faintly visible under your eyes. Maybe you were just exhausted. You had been working on a project at work that had a pretty tight deadline. Maybe it was finally catching up to you. Maybe you were imagining all of this. Making up something that wasn't there.

With a shaky breath, you turned away from the mirror, reaching for the box. The sound of the packaging tearing open seemed too loud in the quiet apartment. You took one of the two pregnancy tests out and set it on the counter. Your hands trembled slightly as you read over the instructions, even though you didn’t really need them—you knew how this worked. Open the package. Pee on the stick. Wait. But reading them gave you a few more seconds before facing the truth.

You took a deep breath and finally did what needed to be done. Afterward, you placed the test down, careful not to look at it yet, and set the timer on your phone. You couldn’t bear to watch the lines form, so you forced yourself to sit down on the edge of the bathtub, pressing the heels of your palms into your knees, grounding yourself while you waited. Three minutes felt like an eternity.

Your mind raced, jumping between panicked thoughts and desperate rationalizations. There was no way. You and Jake had been careful, hadn’t you? You’d been taking birth control for years with no issues. And yet… there had been that one night, the night you felt better after being sick. You remembered how he had pulled you close, his warmth intoxicating after those few days of feeling terrible, his touch erasing the last of your discomfort. It had been one of those spontaneous moments, the kind you didn’t overthink. But now, it felt like maybe you should have.

The timer on your phone went off, snapping you out of your thoughts with a jarring sound. You inhaled sharply, your heart thudding hard against your chest as you reached for the test. With your hand trembling, you flipped it over, your breath catching in your throat.

Two pink lines stared back at you.

Your vision blurred as the world seemed to tilt for a moment. No. You blinked hard, clearing your eyes, then looked again.

Two pink lines.

You felt the floor drop out from under you, a heavy weight settling in your stomach. You set the test down, unable to keep looking at it, and hurriedly reached for the second test in the box. Maybe it was a mistake. Maybe you’d done something wrong. Hands shaking even more now, you repeated the process, this time pacing the bathroom as the second timer ticked down.

But deep down, you already knew.

The timer buzzed again, and with a knot tightening in your throat, you picked up the second test.

Two pink lines stared back at you, a confirmation you weren’t ready for.

You sat back down on the edge of the tub, the reality of it all sinking in, a cold rush of panic sweeping over you. This couldn’t be happening. How could this be happening? 

Your thoughts went to Jake. How would he react? Would he freak out? Would he be upset? Would he leave? End things with you? Your chest tightened at the idea of telling him. You’d only been together a few months, and even though things were going well, you couldn’t help but feel that this would be too much, too soon.

You pressed your hands to your face, trying to steady your breathing, but your mind wouldn’t stop racing. Images of Jake flashed through your mind—his charming smile, the way he’d pull you into his arms without a second thought, the lighthearted banter that had drawn you to him. Your relationship was going strong. But was that enough? Were you enough? Would it be enough to survive something as life-changing as this?

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, and you quickly wiped them away. Crying wouldn’t help. You needed to think, to figure out what you were going to do next. But your thoughts were a jumbled mess of fear, uncertainty, and—oddly enough—a tiny flicker of something else. Something you didn’t want to admit. Hope.

You shook your head, trying to push the thought aside. This wasn’t how things were supposed to happen. You weren’t supposed to be feeling this lost, this scared, not when the rest of your life could be so drastically altered by a couple of pink lines.

But there was no denying it now. You were pregnant.

And you had no idea what to do next.

The next morning, the reality of what had happened still weighed heavily on you. It had settled in overnight, creeping into your mind every time you closed your eyes, so sleep was hardly an escape. You lay in bed longer than usual, staring at the ceiling, the events of yesterday playing on a loop. The two pink lines. Your pounding heart. The panic that had taken root in your chest, now a constant, gnawing ache.

But beyond the overwhelming fear of your situation was an even greater question: Jake. How were you going to tell him? Or… should you even tell him yet?

Your phone buzzed on the nightstand, startling you out of your thoughts. You didn’t have to check to know who it was. Jake had sent a text earlier in the morning—a simple “Good morning” with a smiley face—and you had left it unanswered.

Now, a second message appeared, more direct this time:

Jake: You okay? Haven’t heard from you.

You swallowed hard, staring at the screen. You didn’t know what to say to him, didn’t know how to talk to him without the weight of your secret making everything feel wrong. Your thumb hovered over the keyboard as your mind scrambled for something—anything—normal to respond with.

You: Yeah, sorry. Been busy.

You stared at the message for a moment, guilt settling in your chest as you hit send. You hated how distant the response felt, hated how you couldn’t bring yourself to say more. But what could you say?

The seconds stretched on before your phone buzzed again.

Jake: Busy? You trying to avoid me?? ;)

The words on the screen were playful, a light jab that might’ve made you smile any other day. But today, it only made you feel worse. He was catching on. Jake always had a knack for reading people, and now he was reading you, seeing right through your weak attempts to act normal.

You set your phone aside, deciding not to answer for now. You’d figure out what to tell him later. But for now, you just needed space. Space to think. Space to process. Space to make sense of the storm that had taken over your mind.

The day dragged on, and you kept your distance. Every time your phone buzzed with a message from him, your anxiety spiked, but you still couldn’t bring yourself to respond beyond brief, one-word replies. You were trapped in this bubble of avoidance, knowing full well that it wasn’t sustainable but unable to break free of it just yet.

Later that evening the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm golden hue over The Hard Deck as you stepped inside. The familiar sounds of laughter and clinking glasses filled the air, but they felt distant, almost muffled, as you made your way to the bar. 

Jake was already there, leaning against the counter, chatting with a few of the guys. His laughter rang out, and your heart sank a little. How could you keep this secret from him when he looked so carefree?

“Hey, you made it!” Jake grinned, his blue eyes sparkling with excitement as he reached out to pull you closer. You forced a smile in return, feeling the weight of your secret settle heavily on your chest.

You settled onto a barstool beside him, ordering a Diet Coke, the bubbly drink a stark contrast to the cold beer he and the others were enjoying. As Penny placed your drink in front of you, Jake’s gaze narrowed slightly.

“Diet Coke?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. “You sure you’re not feeling under the weather? I thought you’d be grabbing a beer with me.”

“Just not in the mood for one tonight,” you replied, trying to sound casual.

“Come on, it’s Thursday night! You can’t tell me you don’t want to kick back with a cold one.” He leaned in closer, a playful grin on his face. “Don’t tell me you’re going soft on me.”

You chuckled lightly, but it felt forced. “I just have a lot on my mind with that project deadline tomorrow I told you about.”

“Just thinking about work, huh?” he asked, his voice low, laced with concern. 

You nodded, a little too quickly, hoping he wouldn’t notice the tremor in your hand as you raised the glass to your lips. 

Later that night after beating Rooster and Bob in games of pool Jake made his way back over to where you were still sitting on the bar stool. 

“You’ve been awfully quiet tonight. You sure you’re okay?” He said as he put his hand on your back and began gently rubbing it.

“I’m fine,” you replied, a little too rehearsed, the words falling from your lips like an empty promise. “Just a lot on my mind with that deadline tomorrow.”

“Right.” He nodded, though the frown on his face told you he wasn’t entirely convinced. He wrapped an arm around you, pulling you closer, but instead of the warmth you usually felt, you tensed.

You could feel him studying you, as if he were searching for something just beneath the surface. His touch, usually comforting, felt heavy now. “You’re not really laughing tonight,” he pointed out, the concern in his tone deepening. “I mean, that joke from Phoenix was hilarious, and you didn’t even crack a smile.”

“Sorry,” you mumbled. “Just a lot on my mind, that’s all.”

Jake tilted his head, his brow furrowing. “You sure that’s all? Because it feels like something else is going on.”

You swallowed hard, the truth lingering just beneath your tongue. He deserved to know, but the thought of revealing your pregnancy sent waves of panic coursing through you. Instead, you looked down at your drink, tracing your finger over the rim of the glass. “Really, Jake. I’m just... thinking about everything.”

“Okay, but you know I’m here for you, right?” His voice softened, and you could see the worry etched across his features. “If you need to talk, just say the word. I can take you home. We can go back to my place. Whatever you want.”

You nodded again, forcing a smile that felt more like a grimace. “I know. I appreciate it.”

The night wore on, and the laughter and camaraderie around you seemed to grow louder while you felt more isolated in your thoughts. As Jake tried to draw you back into the fold, the distance between you only seemed to widen. Each time he reached out, you instinctively pulled away, hiding the truth that threatened to spill from your lips.

You were trapped in a delicate dance, and with each passing moment, the weight of your secret pressed heavier against your chest. You took a deep breath, knowing that soon, you’d have to face him. But for now, all you could do was keep the facade intact, holding on to the last threads of normalcy before the storm would break.

When Jake asked you to meet him at The Hard Deck the following evening, your heart sank. He was trying, reaching out to spend time with you like always, but the idea of seeing him, pretending that everything was normal, felt impossible. Your chest tightened as you typed out your reply.

You: Can’t tonight. Sorry.

You could almost imagine the confusion on his face as he read your message. Normally, you would’ve jumped at the chance to meet up with him, to sit at the bar with him, sharing drinks and flirty comments. But not tonight. Not now.

You spent the evening in your apartment, pacing, thinking. The truth was suffocating you, and the longer you put off telling him, the worse it became. But fear gripped you every time you thought about saying the words out loud. What if this changed everything? What if Jake didn’t want this? What if he… walked away?

The knot in your stomach twisted tighter at the thought. You tried to shake it off, tried to reassure yourself that you were overthinking things, but the fear wouldn’t let go.

You didn’t know Jake’s thoughts on kids, on the future, on anything beyond the easy, carefree nature of your fairly new relationship. And now, this could upend everything.

When your phone buzzed again later that night, you ignored it. You couldn’t deal with it. Couldn't deal with him. Not yet.

But avoiding Jake was harder than you expected.

The next evening, as you sat curled up on the couch, scrolling mindlessly through your phone, you heard a knock on your door. Your heart skipped a beat. For a moment, you froze, staring blankly at the door. Who would be at your door right now?

Another knock. Louder this time.

Your pulse quickened as you pushed yourself up from the couch and made your way toward the door. You peered through the peephole, and your stomach dropped.

It was Jake.

You hesitated, every muscle in your body suddenly tense. He had come to see you. Maybe he was worried. Or maybe he was just tired of your evasiveness. You couldn’t tell. All you knew was that he was here, standing on the other side of your door, and you had to face him.

With a shaky breath, you unlocked the door and slowly opened it. There he was, standing in the hallway, his hands tucked in his jacket pockets, his usual easygoing smile playing on his lips. But there was something in his eyes—something you couldn’t quite read.

“Hey,” he said, looking up to meet your eyes.

He leaned in slightly as if to kiss you. Instinctively, you took a small step back, the distance between you immediately noticeable.

Jake’s smile faltered.

“What’s going on?” he asked, his voice soft but laced with concern. He tilted his head, studying your face. “You’ve been avoiding me for days. Didn’t even want to meet me at the Hard Deck tonight. That’s not like you.”

You swallowed hard, unable to meet his gaze. “I’ve just… been busy,” you muttered, knowing how weak it sounded.

“Busy. Right. Well, your deadline at work was up at 4:59, so what's your excuse now?” Jake repeated, his brows furrowing in confusion. “Are you avoiding me? Is something wrong?”

Your chest tightened as he pushed, his words cutting through your thin layer of avoidance. He wasn’t letting this go. And you didn’t know how to handle it.

“I’m fine,” you said quickly, avoiding eye contact. “It’s nothing.”

Jake stepped closer, his eyes narrowing slightly as he studied you. “You sure about that?” His voice was firmer now, the playful edge gone. “Because this isn’t you. You've barely texted me all week. Then you acted like you were trying to avoid me like the plague last night at the bar. You blew me off tonight, and now… what? You’re acting like you don’t even want me here?” He paused and just looked at you, shaking his head. "Do you want me here? Do you want me to leave?"

The guilt hit you like a tidal wave, and you could feel your emotions starting to bubble to the surface. You tried to swallow it down, to push the panic aside, but it was too much. The pressure was too much.

“Jake, I—” You stopped, biting your lip as your vision blurred with tears you hadn’t realized were forming. “I just… I don’t know how to—”

He took a step forward, his voice softening again. “Hey, hey. It’s okay. It's just...you're scaring me, babe. You're making me think you're trying to hide something. Just talk to me. Whatever it is, we can figure it out. But don’t shut me out like this. ”

You blinked, fighting back the tears. You wanted to believe him. You wanted to tell him. But fear kept your throat tight, the words trapped inside.

He reached for your hand, his touch gentle, and grounding, but even that felt too much right now.

You pulled away, stepping back toward the living room.

“I… I don’t know if I can do this right now,” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

Jake frowned, confused. “What do you mean? Can’t do what?”

You knew you couldn’t avoid the truth much longer. 

“Jake, I’m pregnant.” you blurted out, your voice breaking. The words spilled out before you could stop them.

The room went completely still. For a moment, Jake didn’t react, his expression frozen in surprise as if he hadn’t quite processed what you had just said.

You swallowed hard, your heart pounding in your ears. “I… I took a test a few days ago. It was positive.” The words felt heavy, hanging in the air between you, and you could barely look at him. “I didn’t know how to tell you… I didn’t even know how to deal with it myself.”

The silence stretched on, thick and suffocating, as Jake stood there, his gaze locked on you. You could see the shock in his eyes, the way his mind seemed to be working through what you had just revealed. Your stomach twisted in knots, the fear bubbling up again. You had no idea how he was going to react. No idea what this meant for the two of you.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Jake exhaled, running a hand through his hair as he stepped back, processing. His face was unreadable, and the silence between you became unbearable.

“I… I didn’t see that coming,” he said finally, his voice low and rough around the edges.

You swallowed hard, forcing yourself to look at him. “Neither did I,” you whispered, your throat tight. “I’ve been freaking out, Jake. I didn’t know how to handle this. I didn’t know if I should tell you, or if you even—”

He held up a hand, stopping you mid-sentence. “Wait… did you think I wouldn’t want to know? Were you thinking about not telling me?”

His tone wasn’t angry, but it was laced with disbelief, and you realized what you had implied. Your heart clenched as you met his gaze, seeing the hurt in his eyes.

“I didn’t know what to think,” you admitted, your voice shaking as tears started to form in your eyes. “I was scared, Jake. I still am. I don’t know what this means for us, or for anything.”

Jake took a deep breath, his eyes softening as he stepped toward you. His hand reached out, gently taking yours, his touch warm and steady. “Baby, I get that this is… huge. It’s not something either of us expected. But I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”

His words sent a wave of relief washing over you, but the fear was still there, lingering at the edges. You had been so caught up in your panic that you hadn’t allowed yourself to hope for this—that Jake wouldn’t run, that he wouldn’t leave you to handle this alone.

“Are you sure?” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “Because I don’t even know if I’m ready for this.”

Jake squeezed your hand gently, his eyes never leaving yours. “I don’t have all the answers. I don’t know what the future holds, and yeah, this is scary as hell. But we’ll figure it out. Together.”

The weight of his words hit you like a tidal wave, and for the first time in days, you felt a sliver of hope break through the fear. You weren’t alone in this. Jake wasn’t going to leave.

The tears that had welled up in your eyes finally broke free and started to roll down your cheeks as you looked at him, the emotion finally overwhelming you.

“I was so scared,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “I didn’t know if you’d want this. If you’d want me.”

Jake’s expression softened even further, and without a word, he pulled you into his arms, holding you tightly. You buried your face in his chest, your tears soaking into his shirt as the reality of everything finally hit you. But this time, it didn’t feel as crushing. With Jake’s arms around you, it felt just a little bit lighter.

“This isn't your fault, baby. We both made this baby. I’m not going anywhere,” he murmured into your hair, his voice steady. “We’re in this together.”

You stayed like that for a long time, wrapped in his embrace, the fear still there but no longer as suffocating. With Jake by your side, you knew you could face whatever came next.

For the first time since seeing those two pink lines, you allowed yourself to believe that everything might just be okay.

[fortes-fortuna-iogurtum]

I am. so tired. :’)

[inkskinned]

it is the first snow today. i think we should all have off work, even though it didn't stick. i think there should be 4 national holidays, one for each season. happy first snow, go home and make cookies. for spring it can be the first crocus. for summer the first lightning bug. for autumn, the first golden leaf. go home, kiss your dog, feed your cat (who is absolutely already-fed but somehow still starving.)

i think we should all take more showers together, but i mean that in the soft way. i mean it like taking a nap. two years ago i had 5 adult friends in my queen bed, all of us laying across each other, head over belly over thigh over hand. any time one of us would giggle, it would ripple over each of us, like pulling on a spiderweb. kim actually needed to nap and didn't get to sleep and i am still sorry for it even though this is one of my most precious memories.

i think we should all wash each other's hair, i mean. i walk my dog and i watch someone put up twinkle lights around their front porch. alex and i just moved, and i love the neighborhood. already so many of our new neighbors have stopped by to say hello. the nice lady downstairs also collects plants, like me. she gave us her number on a pink post-it note. i am trying to decide whether to make her cookies or brownies.

i am going through a very hard time. something bad happened this weekend that i do not wish to discuss. it is hanging over me. i think of the green ribbon, and the woman who had her throat cut. it feels like that sometimes, inside of my body. like i am walking and talking despite being half-corpsed. like i am hanging on by a ribbon, standing on some kind of cusp. i keep saying - at least it wasn't worse. we are so lucky it wasn't worse. the idea is river-rock smooth now, all the edges worried off.

in this very dark night - the sun sets by 3 now - people don't need to, but they try anyway. they paint the missing light into things. i have an embarrassing number of missed calls and texts, but i feel the love from them nevertheless - hey. if you need something, i'm here. i will bring you food/puzzles/anything. i got you.

i think we should all have a big group chat where we do errands with strangers. this week i got lost in a home depot, which is wild because i'm a lesbian and we are actually hatched in a lowe's lumber section. there were two other women in the whole store. we ended up shopping together, at first by accident (we all needed things in the same aisle), and then because, well, why not. one of the ladies was taller than me, so she pulled down the screws i needed. i am agile and have the personality of a raccoon, so they sent me after anything below 3 feet. we talked about holiday plans and never learned each other's names, but did learn all the drama about each other's families.

i am making you cupcakes, because i have so much affection i want to pour it into batter. you ask me if i am eating enough per meal. i wrap your gift twice, trying to do it prettily. i get excited to give it to you, just because i hope you'll be excited too.

my parents drive an hour just to see the new apartment and to do the parent thing; standing in the kitchen saying things like "oh you'll get so much use from this dishwasher" and "well, you could paint that" and "when your mother and i moved it was uphill both ways and in a snowstorm and of course your brother was an infant." my mother brought me a plant for housewarming. i always say i love you before she leaves.

i play dnd on tuesdays still, after all these years. we all keep that night free. at one point, between grad school and marriage and all of it, we had to have a serious discussion about how to keep it running. we will keep going, we decided eventually. just to see each other, even if we don't play - you are all important to me. sebastian is not prone to affection but last night he stole my usual sign off - i love you all, be good, he said. he was laughing.

i don't love the winter, actually. i like snow in theory, but i grew up in the north, and am too-familiar with the season of "mud and sludge". i don't like being cold. but i do love something kind of soft and rare: every year around this time, people remember oh yes. you and i are human together. and i have love to spare.

it is the first snow, and something in my heart is finally warm again. i have spent what felt like the last 18 months just going-through-the-motions. it has felt blank and immediate, like i would never actually feel again. that sounds extremely trite and stupid - but that is the boring and familiar experience of depression. life just washes up against your windows, and you watch it happening. you see things that should be lovely and affecting, and it just whispers too-thin. i was desperately uncreative. uninterested in my hobbies. unimpressed by my writing. i told my therapist, often, i don't know how to find hope again.

almost sheepishly, something strange and lovely is burning in my chest. i keep not-looking at it, worried it will scamper back into the shadows again. it is skittish and wild, but it is so warm i want to sink my hands into its fur and feel it breathing. i love-hate it: if it's real, it can hurt me when it leaves again. but i am icarus-born, sun-lover and poet: i can't help myself. despite my best intentions, i am falling in love with life again.

i am planning to make cookies for my friends. alex and i are going to go christmas tree shopping. we picked out matching dish towels last night, and they have little mushrooms on them.

i love you. it does come back. yes, even after a long time. even for you. i promise. keep trying. you will wake up and it will be a day you can smile about.

write me when you get there. we will take the day off of work, and i will wash your hair, and we will both be laughing.

[ddejavvu]

Hii, I hope you’re having great day/night. I just wanted to say that I absolutely love your Aaron writing, especially Aaron Hotchner x single mom!reader. I read your requesting rules and I hope that this qualifies (I’m really sorry if it doesn’t), but I’ve been thinking about this concept for a while so I thought I’d give it a try. I absolutely adored how reader’s child always adored Hotchner but this time I was thinking what about reader’s daughter (around 4 or 5) who actually feels intimidated by Hotch (because you know this ‘scary bossman persona’) or maybe reader’s daughter that is not the biggest fan of Hotch and is possibly very sassy with him and is protective of her mum but reader and Hotch have this slightly flirty or like the very beginning of their relationship with a possibly fluffy/happy ending if that’s possible.

You really do feel bad knocking on Hotch's office door at 7:30 in the morning, for both your sleepy daughter and your formidable boss. He's a kind man, you know that with all of your heart, but to your tiny four-year old, he's tall, mean, and scary.

"Come in," Hotch calls, his voice muffled through the door. At the sound, your daughter curls tighter into your embrace, whining pitifully through the blanket that she's wrapped around her head.

"I know, Olivia," You hum, trying to soothe her nerves, "Just for a minute. You can sit on the couch, that's all."

She squirms in your hold while you open the door, smiling hesitantly when Hotch looks up from his paperwork to find you cradling your groggy daughter.

"She's got a cold, and the sitter cancelled," You lament, "And- uh, I need to use the bathroom."

You're constantly surprised at how strongly Aaron cares for children, because someone with his scowl doesn't seem the type. But his eyes flash with worry, and he leans back from his desk in his chair, "Do you think she'll let me hold her?"

Olivia writhes in your hold, a firm no.

"It's okay," You hum, kissing her head though it helps little, "It's okay, baby, I'm gonna put you on the couch, okay? Get cozy with your blanket," You hum, laying her on the cushions before she has the chance to curl her fingers into your blouse and never let go, "And just try to sleep, I'll be back in just a few minutes, okay?"

She moans something that sounds an awful lot like 'not okay!' but you can't afford to listen, not when your bladder is making its contents uncomfortably known.

"Okay, I'll- I'll be right back," You promise Hotch, straightening your clothes that were wrinkled by your clingy daughter, "I'm sorry about this, I'll make sure she's at home tomorrow."

"Don't worry about it," Hotch urges, "Go, I'll make sure she's okay."

"Thanks," You grin, exhaustion seeping over your features after the long, nearly sleepless night you'd had. You duck out of Hotch's office with no further delay, rushing over to the elevator bay and the bathrooms on the other side of it.

"Olivia," Hotch hums after a moment of silence where the little girl tries burrowing between his couch cushions to escape his presence, "Did your mommy give you medicine already?"

She's scared, but she's still polite.

"Yes," She calls, from inside of her blanket cocoon, but there's no further response.

"Alright," Aaron hums quietly, fingers fiddling awkwardly with his pen, "Do you want anything to eat or drink?"

"No."

'Okay. Just... let me know if you need anything, okay?" He calls, any foolish hope he'd had of connecting with the little girl seeping out of his chest when she doesn't answer.

--

Thirteen minutes. It takes you thirteen minutes to get through the line outside of the restroom, who knew this place would be so packed early in the morning? It takes you longer still to actually use the bathroom, and you're teetering on twenty minutes when you jog back up the stairs of Hotch's office to collect your sullen kid.

You don't bother knocking, too rushed to get inside and apologize for sticking Hotch with your sick, terrified toddler for almost half an hour, and to apologize to Olivia for abandoning her with the big scary man who tells you what to do all day.

But Hotch isn't displeased with your rather impolite and abrupt entrance, staying silent as he peers over the blanket hood that Olivia has fashioned for herself. She's held against his chest, her clammy face tucked against his tie. His arms hold her tight and close, and he bounces her ever-so-slightly up and down as he soothes her whiny cries.

"Your mommy's here," He hums, craning his neck down to peer at her, and you're still partially frozen in shock at seeing Olivia cradled up in the arms of the man she runs from at dinner parties, "Would you like to see her?"

Olivia's responsive whine is less-than-clear, neither a yes nor a no. But you advance anyways, eyes surely showcasing your surprise at Hotch's sudden success with your daughter. Upon closer inspection, her tiny hand is gripping his tie tightly, the way that she holds the collar of your shirt when she doesn't want you to let her go. She's all bundled up and sniffling against his chest, surely feeling the symptoms of her cold that the medicine didn't cover.

"My poor baby," You lament, leaning down to kiss her forehead. It puts your face tantalizingly close to Hotch's own, and you'd be lying if you said you weren't feeling some butterflies through your stomach at the sight of him bouncing your baby girl in his arms, "Will you come with me? We can go sit at mommy's desk, and you can go to sleep."

This time, you understand her response.

"No!" She whines, desperately burrowing further into Hotch's warm embrace, "I'm- tired!" She sobs, voice raw from crying, "I want to stay!"

Before you can figure out how to bargain her out of Aaron's arms and into your own he shushes her, leaning down to kiss her feverish temple like she's his own. The sight flips your stomach even further, and you're very glad Aaron can't read your mind at the moment.

"It's okay. You can stay here if you really want to. Are you sure?" He squeezes her to prompt a response, but the only one she gives is nodding her head and pressing her face into his tie.

"Hotch, I'm sorry-" You start, but he smiles kindly, warmly up at you.

"It's alright. I can keep her in here for a bit, if you want to get started for the day."

"But you've got work to do. And you might get sick," Your shoulders slump, because even though you're thrilled that Olivia has finally seemed to get over her Hotchnerphobia, you don't want to push your luck after being fifteen minutes late to retrieve your daughter that isn't supposed to be here in the first place.

"Easy paperwork," Hotch waves it off, smiling as Olivia readjusts her grip on his tie, "Just signatures, really. I've got time. Plus, if I'm gonna get sick, it'll probably be from Jack. He brings home germs from school all the time."

"That's their special talent," You muse, stroking a hand over Olivia's wispy hair, "If you're sure..."

"I'm sure, Y/N," Aaron nods, continuing to bounce her lightly in his arms with a fond grin while her eyes remain loosely shut, "I finally got her to like me - I'm not sure I'd be able to put her down if she did want to go with you."

[sashi-ya]

𝑺𝑰𝑫𝑬 𝑩: 𝑹𝑬𝑳𝑨𝑿 「cuts of freedom: part 4」 soshiro hoshina x f! officer! reader

a/n: ok, ok! since you've been asking for a continuation, here it is! thank you for your support + were you expecting some kind of drama? if so, wait for yet another part then 🙊 tw: mdni! sex explicit scenes. Soshi is a little hurt so he is not going to be as active as usual. more of a romantic chapter. they are on the early stages of a rs so doubts are all over. oral (given). riding. nipple play kinda. wc: 3k // part1: cuts of freedom // part 2: かんぱい！// part 3: stuffed // masterlist

He got hurt. that fight wasn’t easy, and yet he still wanted to keep fighting. “You should go to rest!” Ashiro Taichou scolded him, and he finally complied.

That same day, nobody wanted breakfast. All of you wanted to sleep, rest, pass out on your beds. And maybe too late for lunch everybody started waking up…

Like zombies, you all drag towards the dining room. Those with pain on their limbs, and those who have no visible injuries are all equally hungry.

You sit down next to Kikoru, and while she seems a lot more energetic than you, she is still sleepy. You grab something to eat, scanning the place to find him anywhere.

Despite him having a couple of bad injuries, he only spent a couple of hours at the medical centre. And so, you waited for his happy smile to appear and salute you all.

However, the food is almost completely gone, and he hasn’t appeared yet. The one who does, actually, is your captain, Mina.

“I came to salute and thank you for your hard work, guys. We’ve decided to let you all have a relax day. Keep in mind that if necessary we might need to call you back for duty”

Everybody. Absolutely. Went. Crazily happy.

You could or not ask for your vice-captain, but it would be… suspicious. You don’t want people getting in the way, not because it was forbidden. But because people will talk… and the risk, the secret you both have is exhilarating enough to keep it in between you and him.

Though the mystery of where he was, was discovered some minutes after with a “ping” on your phone…

16:02>VC Hoshina: are you o.o.d already? 16:03>you: yes, how do you know? 16:05>VC Hoshina: who do you think requested Ashiro Taichou for you all to have a day off? let’s have a night in at my place tonight. I’ll make dinner. Be ready at 5, I’ll be outside. 16:05>you:  outside? Together? Are you sure? aren’t you supposed to be resting? 16:06>you: yep, you coming home with me so you can take care of me… 😏

A date? A night in? His place? are we really dating? Are we a… couple?

It is taking you all you got not to show your happy smile -you do anyway-. It feels too good to be real. You wonder how his place might look like? What is he going to cook? Which clothes should you bring?

Ultimately, and exactly 10 minutes prior your set meting point, you are ready. You pick the sexiest underwear you could probably have while living at the base. -sports bra and panties- and little toiletries. Your backpack isn’t heavy, but your stomach is. Despite everything you two have experienced together, the first time you are actually on a date with nobody around will be this.

“Ready?” he asks,  peeking from the windows of his car. Black, exquisite, modern, expensive. What else would you expect?

“Yes ~” you whisper, smiling sexily.

Once you are inside and you have fastened the seat belt on, Soshiro comes closer to your lips. His fingers land on your chin, pulling you ever so softly towards his.

“Don’t give me that look, or I’ll fuck you right here” he whispers, planting a peck soon after.

You gasp silently; strong, funny, handsome, charismatic, and such a player… your heart skips quite some beats, and only the roaring of the car engine is able to break the enchantment you have fallen in.

Of course, the ride ended up pretty fast. Despite Soshiro having his house, the Hoshina family manor, he prefers to rent a very modest -not really, his is disgustingly rich- apartment closer to the base for obvious reasons.

“You’ve been quiet since we left the base. Wanna come back?” he asks, this time as serious as he can be.

“No, I was only intrigued about your lifestyle. Everything around here looks beautiful, Hoshina fuku Taicho” you murmur, following him inside the elevator.

He giggles; and instants later, when the lift doors close, he smirks. Eyes now open, sloppy but sexy, looking at you like a kaiju to subjugate, making you take little steps back against you encounter the mirrored wall behind.

You know how men turn when inside elevators…

“So-shi-ro” he corrects you; even him feels the need to forget for some hours about your jobs.

“so…shi…ro ~” you purr.

His hands end up on the railing behind you, on each side of your hips. His chest, chiselled to perfection, closer to yours. His lips, even closer than before.

“I would very much like to fuck you right here, too. There are cameras. I wouldn’t mind if you want to videotape us, but you are mine… and I don’t want anybody else to see you”

You swallow, once again your legs turned weak. And your brain? Stopped “braining”.

The doors open, and inside the apartment you both go. With wet panties, you try to act as if the last interaction never happened.

“Welcome ~” he sings, taking his boots off.

Inside, of course, everything seems more expensive than a whole year worth of salary, so you try not to touch anything. There aren’t many decorative pieces, but definitely the ones that garnish the walls are various blades shining their metallic glitter with white led lights.

Ahead, a big glass wall let’s your eyes infuse in a dying sun over the city of Tachikawa’s golden hour.

“What a beautiful view” you murmur, taking off your shoes.

“A panoramic view that will sooner or later be destroyed by those bitches…” he sighs, surrounding your waist with his arms from behind.

Soshiro’s chin rests on your shoulder; his aura feels a lot more romantic and calmed. It seems as if he really wanted a chill night with you and not just a lustful chain of sexual desires unleashed.

“Are you feeling ok? Does anything hurt?” you ask, worried. He didn’t seem very hurt while driving but he is strong to ignore any pain.

“Mhh? I think so. Though, that thing… was scary” he is as honest as he can be while turning you around to face him.

His eyes are beautifully tinted in orange, as the light of sunset reflects on them. His hair, purple and black, frame a sweet face. The sound of a feng shui little fountain takes over with infinite drops falling on dancing pieces of bamboo branches.

“Thank you for inviting me over…” you whisper, getting drunk on the handsome features you fell for.

Soshiro smiles softly, placing his forehead on yours. Both close your eyes, enjoying the relaxing atmosphere of a private refugee. For once, maybe for some hours, there is peace in your minds.

“You don’t need to be invited to come here” he whispers back, placing a kiss on your forehead, leaving you speechless… Is this the confirmation he is going for real with you?

Soon, and after a very deep kiss, tinted in love and lust, he tells you to wait for him.

You use such time to enjoy for a little longer those outstanding views of the city, but what you will watch at next will be a lot more worth it to look at…

Dressed in yukata, Soshiro looks a lot more relaxed than before. And you, well… you try not to die to such show off of autochthone beauty scattered in front of you.

“You- wow…” you simply express. “Sorry, the bandages feel more comfortable if I am wearing lose clothes…”

He enjoys your needy eyes scanning him up and down, and soon asks you to follow him to the kitchenette where he prepares a series of very sharp objects to cook with.

“You know why squad 3 was happy at first when I joined?” he asks, taking fresh -very fresh and expensive- salmon out of the fridge.

“Mmm… ‘cause you were funny?” you joke. You know it is probably because of his skills.

He looks at you a little annoyed, but soon brush it off with a silly laugh.

“No! it is because Mina can’t handle knives. So, I, naturally being the great swordsman I am -and also great cook-, I was the one in charge of cutting the ingredients for them”

You giggle; you knew Mina didn’t have such skill… but at that point?

“Then mr. cook swordsman, please delight me with your skills” you purr, bending over the counter isle. Your collar allows the very beginning of your breasts to show, but Soshiro knows very well that he should focus on not cutting himself instead of it.

He scoffs, and precisely begins cutting thin slices of salmon. The way his sharp blade sections that pinkish flesh makes an act that to some might be barbaric, a ravishing image to look at.

Soshiro’s profile shows a tensing mandible, with muscles moving along with concentration and technique. It reminds you to the times you’ve seen him train minus the sweat -not that you were complaining about it, actually-

The way his yukata opens just enough for you to admire his pale flesh, obliges you to bite the insides of your mouth; to cross your legs enough as a natural reflex to satisfy the demands of your femininity.

Once those fine pieces of fish have been cut, they are put to rest to the side. Soshiro proceeds to grab a bowl with freshly cooked rice from the fridge, followed by the ingredients to assemble the nigiri.

He takes a swift look at you from the side; his smirk, makes you shiver. He knows he looks hot while doing this, and he will continue to do so for as long as he wants it to.

The way he cups a little ball of rice into his palm, and how he spreads the spicy wasabi on it, reminds you of how good his hands are when he touches you… so sensual, delicate, precise.

You can’t help but get lost into what he is doing, with a silly in love face, you allow him to continue in complete silence.

And once he is finished with the nigiri, he begins to prepare a sweet sauce that you assume must contain mango.

“Try the sauce”  he offers, with a silver spoon.

You walk around the counter and allow him to feed you the preparation right into your mouth. As sexy as possible, and as delicious as it can be, you enjoy the taste that’s also followed by his lips being pressed on yours. A kiss so sweet with little hints of citric, a kiss that threatens diner to be forgotten.

Soshiro lifts you up on top of the table; leaving the preparations on the side. His yukata opens a little bit more, showing off protruding -so delicious- collar bones, his bare chest and the very beginning of bandages tied around his waist.

You open your legs for him to come closer, but now that you’ve seen the bandages you make sure you are absolutely delicate with your movements.

 He kisses you again and again; he is soft and sweet, and absolutely sensual as well.

“Here” he murmurs, once he is over with your swollen lips and brings one of the pieces of sushi he just created to your mouth. Bare fingers, as traditionally as can be, he feeds you.

Delighted, you enjoy the savoury mix with the sweet sauce.

“So good, Soshiro… you were right, you are a wonderful cook” you murmur, still enjoying the piece in your mouth.

“Told you ~” he giggles, bragging about an undeniable truth.

You giggle too, this time grabbing a piece with your hands and giving it to him right into his mouth.

It might be a different experience for the both of you; a relaxing, mature, romantic and sensual night it…

And when the nigiri are definitely over, and your hunger -for food- satisfied, Soshiro invites you to yet another part of his department; the balcony. Such place is anything but small, but it is definitely cozy. It also communicates right with his room.

“I already told you this, but this view is breath-taking” you purr. “I think so, yes” he whispers, grazing your nape and neck with loving hand and looking right into your eyes.

Your cheeks burn; your stomach gets full of dancing, kaiju sized butterflies.

“I love this side of you…” you mumble, hugging him, placing your head on his chest with utmost care. “You made me feel like doing this” he answers, kissing the crown of your head.

Both enjoy the night views; laughing at an Izumo tecs drone falling down because it encountered a tree in its way. Of course, Soshiro laughs the loudest, and you can’t help but hug him harder as his fangs protrude like if he were a little kitten.

“auch-“ he grimaces. “oh, oh god. I’m so sorry!!” you panic, remembering his waist is covered in bandages. “take me… to… my bed!” he acts as if he was about to die, and you try to supress the laughter.

Soshiro -still acting up- opens the sliding glass doors of his room, and inside you both go.

He pounces into bed, dragging you with him. And despite him definitely knowing that he shouldn’t have done that, he brushes the pain on his belly away.

“You good?” “NO. CURE ME”

Soshiro holds you closer, snuggling with you on a king-sized bed. Finally, comfortable, you two lay together. And still, there isn’t room for anything in between you both.

For quite some time you stay in silence nuzzled into his chest. His perfume, so delicious, gets you drunk in love. His skin, pale and soft, like always, lures you to bite and kiss. His hand, heavy and warm, plays with your hair, slowly.

“I want to make love to you” Soshiro suddenly says, breaking the silence and stopping your heart.

“You…” you whisper, feeling a heat wave taking over your cheeks, nose and ears.

“With no hurries, nor worries” he continues, bringing his hand down your spine and into the small of your back. Soshiro pulls you even closer to him, with your core pressed against the side of his leg.

Your lips meet again, you don’t have to say “yes” to his proposal. You just want it to happen now. And soon, you become undressed in one bit.

However, you don’t want him -yet- to do all the work tonight. And perhaps, as a way of thanking him for this night, you want to pleasure him first.

Standing up without saying much, you crawl in between his legs. Your hands reach for the sash that holds his yukata together, and slowly as he wanted, you untie it.

Soshiro smirks, biting his own lip with sharp fangs.

“Put yourself comfortable; you cooked, now dessert is on me”

He gets, indeed, comfortable as he puts both pillows underneath his nape and his hands are ready to fall upon your head once your mouth begins to work on his sex.

Hard, of course, he waits. Hard, dripping with wet boxers, a damp stain on grey underwear you make bigger licking over it.

Soshiro squirms; your oral is delicious, as his taste is to you. Yet, the fabric isn’t as good as his bare skin. So, you pull from the hem of his boxer briefs, urging him to help you with the wiggling of his hips.

You place a kiss right on the tip, and your hand surrounds his rock-hard shaft. You can tell he is more than sensitive to your lips, as he begins contorting little by little.

But it is not enough pleasure. And deep inside your mouth, you let his sex slide in. Hitting faster your throat, his moans and grunts are a delightful symphony of lust.

“Honey…ugh…” he whines, pulling your head back from your hair, as pleasure seems to be high enough to make him burst.

“What? ~ already cumming?” you ask, kinda giggling and still pumping his dick up and down.

“In fact, yes! Come here, let me fuck you- I- ugh-“ Soshiro says, trying to stand up, soon noticing the wound in his stomach hurts more than what he thought. Perhaps the pain killers have already lost its effect, or it was the fact his muscles tensed and spasmed.

“Calm down, vice-captain… you are convalescent, let me do all the work for you” “It was me who wanted to make love to you” “maybe tomorrow morning…”

You, knowing that even if he is not on top he will make love to you either way, climb on his lap. As you promised, you will be the one doing the work for now.

One of your hands drive his shaft right into your entrance, and for some seconds you remain there, with it barely penetrating you. With both of you already moaning to the feeling. With your inner thighs shaking, ready to crumble and let Soshiro’s sex to go deep inside of you.

Eager. Desperate.

You let your hips flop onto his, allowing his dick to be finally deep, so very deep inside of you. Your hands fall on the backrest, for a better grip before you start riding.

As for Soshiro, he squeezes your butt cheeks, pressing you harder against him. No matter how painful his wound may turn, his body acts on his own. He follows your movements, sync to the rhythm of your ups downs and arounds.

He enjoys the view of your bouncy chest right above his face, making it impossible not to want to bite them. And so, he does. As you ride, he sucks, bites, nibbles on your nipples.

With one hand on the small of your back, and the other grabbing one of your breasts, Soshiro and you sail to ecstasy surely and despite wanting to go slow… none of you could stop your bodies from going at least feral.

So feral your hearts, about to pounce from your chests. So feral, with moaning loudly, with nobody from the squad to hear you whine.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤFeral, feral, feral. ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤThe sound of his phone stops it all. ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ [Okonogi-chan calling…]

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ "Why is she calling, Soshiro?"

[the-moon-files]

I was actually thinking about this a lot but like as an add on to your humans are hylian space orcs thing. I am in ✨need✨ of reader trying potions. Like;

"This potion will restore your stamina and boost your strength"

"Buddy that's just coffee"

"Qué?"

Even worse if when the reader tries it it's just like the most not strong coffee they've ever drank. Makes the guys wonder wtf makes humans need so much energy through out the day.

this is such a cute idea, i love how diet diffs/energy diffs in humans are space orcs aus, so genius to apply to hylians

the stamnia boost potion tastes just like instant coffee with powdered creamer (the kind at like car dealerships/shitty offices where its not even a little liquid creamer)

and u spit that shit out like wtf is this bs

and Four, poor guy who gave you some after talking a break from walking, is like "oh my goddess r u allergic?? can still breath???"

meanwhile ur like. "yeah this just tastes like shit-"

four: "oh well yeah, all potions do really-"

you: "-ty coffee. this is nowhere near strong enough to get me back on my feet ffs"

four: " 👁️👄👁️"

you: "u got anything stronger? :/ "

four: " w h a t ? "

cue u researching how to make stamnia potions, across the hyrules, and making them 10x stronger so theyre like an actual coffee shop kind of coffee, and the Links are literally lowkey scared

Time forbids you (and the rest of the guys) from letting anyone else try ur "improved" elixir (s)

bc yes, u didnt stop at stamnia

u moved on to healing potions, (u can now regrow limbs and heal broken bones, the hylians can only take like a 1/16th of a sip like once a week, whereas u chug the whole thing, and can do so multiple times a day if needed)

u also moved onto cooking, bc rlly how different is cooking from alchemy?

and goron spice tasted like goddamn dorito chips, so u used essence of literal lava to help make it more spicy,

ur not allowed to introduce this new spice to the gorons, Wild forbid, bc he was adventurous enough (and snuck behind Time and ur backs) to try some spice

(he literally touched the tip of his pinky finger to it, wiped it off, except for 1 like flake of spice too)

and it lowkey nearly killed him 💀

like had to use that 1/16th of ur extra strong healing potion and everything

u felt so bad, but he did do this to himself,

and Wild knew the gorons dont back down from a challenge, esp since it was originally their recipe, so he (and you) didnt wanna kill them on accident

the sleeping potion u found is just like taking a single melatonin gummy, so u ofc make that thing knock even you out after 2 sips,

needless to say, no one is trying that one, not only bc it knocked Rulie unconcious for 12 hours straight (u got him to try it after he exhausted all his magic healing, and so no nightmares)

but bc it knocked u out cold for 9. that was the scarier part to them lmao, was how affected is their human by this?

i like to think thats how they judge unknown foods and liquids too,

like "do you think this tastes unseasoned? ok should be perfect for me then" - every Link

"oh this didnt make u feel sleepy at all/barely tired? great, id love to knock out cold w/no nightmares tonight" - Sky, probably

"this tastes like that thing you call, instant cough? ko-fee? Cool, give me some i need to run up this mountain" - Wild, for the 3rd time this month probably

"this barely healed ur papercut? sweet, give me some my wrists are killing me" - poor Legend, he uses ur extra strength healing potion as a way to treat his arthritis regularly once a month, but the more chill potions for any leftover aches and pains, esp after long fights being hard on his arms

Chain is simultaneously still lowkey terrified u need that much extra oomf, esp when u run out of stronger stuff and have to down like 5 health potions to heal a cut that needed stitches,

and also worried u need that much and also Wild/Wars/Rulie tend to work overtime to make sure they have extra potions for you

and theyre also kind of impressed, bc hey, youre unlikely to get magically poisoned/potion poisoned like them

☆

sorry i couldnt think of as much as i hoped, i think its bc i rlly just need to play/watch more loz games besides botw/totk

i like know the vague plot of ss/oot/mm/tp/ww/hw and og loz games, but havent gotten into details/lets play or anything yet

i hope this was at least a half decent idea to think about/expand on urs, have a great rest of ur week, and thanks so much for the ask!! <33

Peace out,

🌙

[matchadobo]

KIDD; wedding headcanons

warning/s: partial nsfw but no occurrence of the actual thing, super fluff i died and alived

i'll fix the formatting lateeeerr >:) red ones are individual bullets while white ones are subheadings of the previous red one (hope that makes sense)

* when you bring the question to him he'll be like:

* "me? you wanna marry me?" he'd point to himself.

* "yes, silly! who else?!"

* "i-i mean," he'll instantly become red and start fumbling over his words. "i-i was supposed to pop the damn question out..."

* you best bet it'll be a full blown steampunk wedding! he'd want it to be in the victoria but it's also fine with him if you'd want a beach or garden wedding so long as the theme stays. this i what i think he'll be wearing, the aesthetic of the event, and what your gown'll be.

* during preparations, he'd mostly leave it up to you so long as you follow his color palette: red and blacks. but when it comes to foods, he'd be keen on having an attendance while you taste test and choose out stuff.

his and your fits

* before your wedding day, he'd be soooo anxious. i have this thought that when you two are individually out on your bachelor/ette parties, he'd be calling you by the end of it just cuz he can't sleep.

* "it's pretty late, kidd. did your party just finished?"

* "yeah, every one's knocked out of their damn minds. and apparently, i can't fuckin' sleep."

* "hmm, nervous?"

* "like the fuck i am." he'd try to deny it but eventually give in. "i wanna see you before i sleep."

* "but you know the superstition-"

* "fuck that shi-"

* "no! i don't want any bad luck!"

* "luck? baby, we defy all odds, don't we?"

* he'd insist but you'll also insist. so he just settled on an overnight call where you two slept in.

* during the wedding day, you two'll be tired as fuck because the only sleep you guys got was 2-3 hours because of talking and comforting each other until 5 😭. while getting ready, kidd will be more impatient and irritated than usual. but it's just due to the combination of weariness and anxiety. mostly anxiety. he never felt this anxious when it comes to you, he'd always be confident about how you two felt about each other. but right now, all he thinks if he's sure or not. if you're sure with him. eustass kidd never doubts, but he feels so deeply for you he'd never want to hurt you and that brings him to a wall. the people involve with him that day had a hard time working with him because his attitude is extraaa mean 😔

* but when he sees you at the end of the aisle as you donned a dress that looked way too good on you it was insane to him, all his worries left his body through a tear that cascaded down his eye.

* "you crying?" killer nudged kidd, noticing the taller to reach over his breast pocket to fish out the hanky.

* "shut up, you ain't the one doing the marryin'."

* i imagine his vows to reflect the kind of person he is, passionate and brute about it. he'll be soooo poetic it'd surprise you.

* "where do i even start fuck-" you'd giggle along with the audience. "i do lotsa damn declarations but this is makin' me shy, jeez."

* "name," he'd sheepishly look at you. "you are my dream and i honestly curse the seas that i'd only found you nos and not at the time i needed you the most. and now i, for the life of me, can't imagine how i'd live without you."

* "i, eustass kid, will put hands on anyone who mess with my wife, if those fuckers think they're so big, well so am i, aye?! if she cries i'll cry with her, and trust me when i say i will kill any bastard who dares do her wrong, because that's my wife, they better not look at her cuz she's taken, she's mine. got it?"

* "you've learned to love me, an insufferable asshole, in ways i never thought possible. you've seen the worst and the best, the weak and the strong, the ugly and somehow the pretty in me. you make me a better man."

* "you conquered all my fears, seized my pride, and built my strength. you are the reason i became the way i am today. you crawled your way in 'ere and took control over my heart, you little monster."

* "from the start, i haven't exactly been kind to you. i mean, i've been rude, and disrespectful; but you grew on me, you were patient and measured up to my irritated ass... so much that I don't know what happened, you really snuck up on me... so may you forgive me my past dumb mistakes. because even if I am stupid and mean, and I may not show my love properly, I love you and will do anything to give you what you fuckin' deserve. you know that."

* "name is a great woman, one who stands and always fights for what she wants, and I want the honor of being your husband. we'll conquer anything, yeah?"

* "okay i'm very fucking embrassed now so i'll just come out and say it... I need to marry you, not because I love you, not because I like you, but because I have to to... yeah, I said it, I don't like you or love you, i need you in my fucking life."

* man he'd end up crying while saying them. but his voice wouldn't waver, it's eustass kidd come ooooon

* he'd be dramatic and give you the bridal kiss where you kind of hang mid air and he supports your back.

* reception would be firrrreee it'd be an absolute rave! you'd have your wedding dress be modified where you can discard the tulle or some shit to make the dress shorter.

* your guests and dearest friends each made a speech about your craziness with each other

* "kidd was so damn insane for this girl. one time, he asked me if he should get her an otter or dung beetle as a christmas present. bro doesn't even celebrate christmas until she came along!"

* "kidd stood out as one of name's partners, he was the first jackass she fell for that was actually a keeper."

* "i'm telling you, kidd became so self-conscious when he met name! he started worrying if his lipstick was the right shade or if his eyeliner looked neat!"

* "what confuses me was whenever they talked to me about each other, the word 'i hate' always comes first and them being whipped follows after. it was annoying."

* drinking games come after, trivias about the couple and between you two after. and as expected, it was competitive because neither of you wanted to lose and give way 🤣. kidd as a man, will never go easy and let you win tho. he respects you like that.

* but what prompted me to make this hc is the wedding garter tradition 🫦. this will be his favorite part. he'd be very extra tho,

* he'll take off his suit jacket and roll up his sleeves when you two are in front for the act.

* he'd maintain reaaaally strong eye contact and will be feeling himself while you burn red and start fanning yourself from laughing or actually feeling flustered under his gaze.

* he'd get under your dress, have a long whiff of that 🐱 and his breath'll tickle you bc he nasty like that, lick your thigh a little, give the flesh on your hips a squeeze, and drag the garter off with his teeth very very languidly

* he'll be very pouty when it's time to give it to the bestman tho

* then the actual rave comesss! blasting music and lights at the victoria, it didn't seem like a wedding reception. but you and kidd were in the center of it all, dancing with each other the same way you two met in a bar.

* "wanna get out of here?" he whispered with his hands on your hips, bending down to your ear due to the deafening beats.

* "hmm, ain't this familiar?" you giggled.

* "aye. this is the part where you come with me and we kiss at the back."

* "eh? that's different from what i remember. your mean ass was angry at me for stepping on your shoe." you poked at his nose while he laughed subtly.

* "shh shh, we both know how bad that ended. bar got fucked up real good." you two broke out in laughter, reminiscing at old times.

* kidd would inevitably drag you to his quarters, man's hungrryyyyy

* he'd be so desperate to take off your clothes, with how beautiful you look today and how he was deprived of you for a couple of nights

* you'd leave the deck making out, walkign sideways, backwards, u name it

* "it'd be pretty weird if the bride and groom's gone on their reception, right?" you broke out of the kiss.

* "and we don't give a shit about it, don't we?" he'd grin, tugging at your lips

* aaaand stuff thst happens in the honeymoon happened 😏

been in the works foR WAY TOO LONG

[scarlettxnoah]

I just imagine you being HEAVILY pregnant, like a week overdue and absolutely fucking miserable as one would be. You are lying cocooned in Noah’s bed wrapped up in his blankets and your pregnancy pillow he had bought for you early on. You are fed up, tired and your body hurt and you were just absolutely over being pregnant. Prior to being a lump in bed, you had a pretty bad meltdown while Noah knelt by the bed and brushed your matted hair away from your face, listening and comforting you the best he could. He knew how hard this pregnancy had been on your body, and he was so grateful your body could do this for him; giving him a baby that was part you and part him. He dreamed of this life for a long time.

Noah had asked if you were good with him streaming for an hour or so, and all you did was whine out a yes, and roll (trying to lift your body the best you could) to the other side.

You drifted in and out of sleep listening to Noah talk to the people watching. He had always been comfort for you. Even when you were unbelievably uncomfortable.

“Oh no, Y/N hasn’t had the baby yet. I’m not gonna go into too many details but we are still waiting on the baby’s arrival.”

“Oh… uh… yeah she’s actually asleep right now and I don’t want to wake her up.”

That caught your attention as he continued to gush about how amazing you’ve been and how you are taking it like a champ.

“ not asleep” you mumbled grouchily.

He turned his chair and gave you a sweet smile.

“Hi baby, everyone’s asking about you. They are wanting to see you since it has been awhile since you were online.” He said warily, like he was poking a bear.

You grunted as you pushed yourself up and stuck your hands out for him to grab to drag you out of the bed.

He quickly told them to give him a second and hurried to you, grabbing your hands gently and hoisting you up to your feet. You groaned as gravity took over and your baby dropped lower into your pelvis.

Your face screwed up in pain, resting your hand under your belly where the baby was.

“ you don’t have to do this Y/N/N. They can wait”

You shook your head and followed him back to his chair.

“Do you want to sit?” Noah asked, scooting the chair back to give you access to his lap and you shook your head again. You didn’t want the viewers to see you struggle to get out of his lap.

You wrapped your arm over the top of his shoulders.

In all honestly, you looked an absolute mess. A pair of Noah’s joggers sat low on your waist and one of your tank tops that clearly don’t fit you anymore, sat 5 or 6 inches above the waist band of the joggers, leaving your belly exposed. Your face was puffy with bags under your eyes, and tear stains from the hours of crying. Your hair was wrapped in a bun that resembled a rats nest.

Noah stared up at you with such adoration it took your breath away. You looked away from him and to the screen to read the chat and comments were FLYING

“Omg she’s so big”

“ you look miserable! How are you feeling?”

“ is it a boy or a girl”

“ you are glowing!!!”

You leaned your hip against the chair and gave a sleepy smile. Everyone had been so kind to you since it had come out you and Noah were together.

Noah wrapped his arm around your waist, and placed his hand on your big belly, kissing the side of it.

Your heart was soaring. Or always did when you showed affection to your child.

“ okay, okay, you’ve seen her, she needs to go back to bed and get her rest before the baby comes.”

You said bye to everyone and placed a gentle kiss on top of Noah’s head. He grinned wildly as he went back to playing his game.

Two days later your water broke and you brought home a baby girl with thick dark hair just like dad🥲😩

[barcalover86]

Unreal nightmare - Gavi

Summary: "How can I learn to live without you when you taught me how to be alive"

"Your relationship was a private one, and we didn't really get to see you two a lot. How was she?" one of the reporters asked.

Pablo chuckled a bit.

"She was so fearless." he started. "Energetic and chaotic kind of girl, you know. Wherever she was, she would bring the light after her. You couldn't feel sad or hopeless around her."

"She seemed like a really nice person."

"Yes, because she was."

Pablo had to stop because he knew that if he would say one more word, he was going to cry. He hated the tight feeling inside his neck.

The older man comforted the boy, putting one of his hands on Gavi's shoulder, while massaging it.

After a few seconds, Pablo continued.

"Before I met her, I only found happiness in winning. But she taught me to enjoy the process, to be thankful that I am healthy and that I have a house where I can sleep and that I have a really loving family that supports me."

"That's so kind of her."

"Yes, she was really kind. To everyone."

He smiled sadly while thinking about you.

"So tell us, Gavi. What happened? One day, she was out there cheering your name, and the next one, we found out that she had passed away? How come?"

The boy started to tear up. His hands reached his face, not wanting to let the world see his pain.

Everyone felt so sorry for him. They all knew how much he loved you and how happy you had made him.

"Just one day, she started scratching all over her body. We were all really confused especially when her eyes got yellow."

"Oh.."

"Yeah.. such a bad memory. Well, then we got her quickly to the hospital, and we stayed there for about 5-6 hours to get her a doctor. She then started to be in so much pain."

"She was having some allergy?"

"I hoped so, but she was not. We found out that she had liver cancer."

"I'm really sorry, Gavi-"

"We took her to the best doctor, but it was all too much for her and after only 1 month of being in the hospital, they let her home for the 'she better dies home with her family, rather than alone' kinda reason".

"But.. After only 1 month, it was that crucial??"

"Liver cancer is extremely dangerous and painful. It expands incredibly fast."

"And she was staying at your house while you just had to pretend that everything was fine... to not worry the people around you."

"Something like that, yes. But our families were there to help me out with her. As I said before, everyone loved her."

"How did she die?"

"She lived more than any doctor said she would. But God.. she looked so different and drained. Even at her worst, she was asking for everyone's health" Gavi laughed a bit.

The reporter smiled.

"I don't know if it was bad or if I'm thankful that she died in my arms.."

"Oh, Gavi-"

"Don't start, please," he once again teared up. "I just don't understand why she had to suffer like that when she was the most angelic person that I've met. She was so, so young.."

"How old was she?"

"17."

A loud silence acapared the room.

No one knew what to say in these situations.

--------------‐---------------------‐---------------------‐------

"Gavi, go to sleep! Tomorrow you have a big game and you have to be rested."

"Pedri, please leave me alone."

"Then I'd be a bad friend. C'mon, brother, go have a nap. I know you're tired."

"I can't sleep, Pedri! Ok? If I close my eyes I only see her dead in front of me!"

"Pablo-"

"Everyone is dreaming about the healthy version of her, and I'm the only one that can't even imagine my girlfriend being.. normal and real and-"

"Gavi! Stop!" Pedri began. "You saw her at her worst. It's normal to have that imagine painted in your brain for a period of time. But that definitely doesn't mean that you are not able to also dream about her when she was all healthy."

"I'm afraid that she forgot me and only looks out for her family and not me, Pedri."

"Don't say that! You know that's not true at all."

"How can you be so sure?"

"Because we both know that she loved you more than anyone. Now go to sleep and let's have a great game tomorrow so that you can win for her, alright?"

--------------‐---------------------‐---------------------‐------

"Gavira, do you want to play?" Xavi asked the footballer.

"Yes."

"Ok then, go change!"

Before the game, Pablo had promised himself to give his all for you.

And he did that.

He helped his team a lot.

He didn't see you along the crowd, but he somehow felt you in him. You made him stronger and he even scored. Just. For. You.

"She'd be so proud of you, boy."

And then Gavi looked into the sky and saw your shadow.

And then he smiled.

People were cheering his name, and he then promised himself that he would continue to fight for life, just like you did. You fought for every second of life because every moment matters. And by your absence, he learned to appreciate things more. He learned that to live is the most incredible gift that we, humans, have.

[icarusdescending7]

Aquamarine - Chapter 5

Ao3 | First Chapter | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Your fiancé died seven years ago, and you joined the military in his wake to fill the void his death put on you. Now, you work with the 141 for an assignment, hunting associates of their enemies.

Their Lieutenant, however, given you an uneasy feeling. You have a vague sense of familiarity with him, but from where?

-☆-☆-☆-☆-☆-☆-

Price did throw you a mini celebration, he felt bad for missing the day. Gaz and Johnny made a crude little cake for you and everyone sat together and had a good evening. Almost everyone, anyway. Ghost seemed pretty distant the whole time, more so than usual. He would only talk when spoken to but was otherwise off in his own world. Eventually, he retired to his room for the night, leaving the rest of you to your own devices. You all ended up drinking a little bit, which was a mixed bag. Johnny was a very loud drunk, Gaz giggly, and Price the sleepy kind. Unfortunately, that left you, the sad kind, to get all sniffly with them and ramble about the things that make you sad. By the end of the night, you were crashed out on top of your bedsheets, sniffling in your sleep. 

~~~

“Alright sweetheart, I gotta go. I’ll text you in the morning and we’ll call again tomorrow, okay?” Simon said, his voice slightly muffled from the phone speakers.

“Okay, Si. Tomorrow. Sleep tight.” You said, yawning. You sniffed a little, “I love you. Stay safe, okay? I want to see you again soon.”

“You know I always am, love. I love you too. Goodnight.” He said. You both hesitated to hang up, listening to each other breathe for a moment before he hung up.

~

‘Good morning. I hope you’re okay.’

‘We still on for a call tonight?’

You texted him at 6 am this morning when you had woken up. Usually, he’d respond in a few hours, but it was almost 5 pm. It concerned you.

‘Simon? You okay?’ 

‘Si?’

‘Love?’

~

It had been a few weeks since you last spoke to Simon. This wouldn’t bother you normally, considering how busy he was with work, but this time was different. He hadn’t said anything about being unreachable the last time you called, he hadn’t sent a text alerting you to an emergency… nothing. The anxiety ate away at you, chewed at the back of your mind like a horrible migraine. You stared at your texts to him, the long string of messages from you taking up the screen. No reply. 

A few weeks turned into a few months, and you finally got a message. All it read was ‘I’m sorry.’

Wait, what? What? ‘I’m sorry’? What does that mean?

‘Simon? What does that mean?’

‘Please respond. What does that mean?’

Just as quickly as you sent those messages, they were quick to stop delivering.

~

You woke up in your clothes from the day before, your head hurting from dehydration, cheeks dried with salt. Your phone had gone dead from the countless messages you’d sent Simon, not going to bed until you passed out. You put it on the charger, getting up to shower and change clothes. By the time you got out, your phone was back on but no new notifications came in. You set it down and sighed, looking over at the wall. 

A series of pictures lined them, dating back a few years at their oldest and a few months at their newest. You and Simon were the center of each, getting stupid pictures of the two of you at the pier, in the park, at restaurants, parties, and gatherings. All of them made your brow furrow— “What did he mean by sorry?” you asked aloud, staring at the photos. Deciding to send one last text in hopes he received it, you picked up your phone.

‘Seen 3:23 am’

So he did see them. But he didn’t respond. He must have blocked you but regretted it and unblocked you when he knew you’d be asleep. 

‘Is this your way of ending things with me?’ You asked, sending the message. It went through and was immediately seen, but no reply came. You dropped your phone, grumbling to yourself.

~

A few days passed, and you were sitting on your couch staring into space. You didn’t have much energy to do anything but stare. You hadn’t eaten anything but a bag of chips, and you found yourself sipping on a warm glass of water. A knock on the door drew your attention from the nothing you were thinking of. Slowly, you got up, going to the front door and peering through the peephole. The sight beyond made your stomach drop— two soldiers stood beyond with grim looks on their faces. You hesitantly unlocked the door, opening it just enough to ask what they were there for. 

“Are you the spouse of Lieutenant Simon Riley?” One of the men asked, turning to try and peer at you through the crack in the door. You sighed, opening the door fully.

“That’s me, yes. Well, his fiancé, technically but…” You trailed off. “Sorry. Is there something I can help you boys with?” You knew the answer, even if you didn’t want to admit it to yourself yet. You knew exactly what words were going to come out of his mouth, and you were already bracing for it. Your mind blurred out all the words that he said, except a few.

“…was killed in the line of duty. We’re sorry for your loss.”

You couldn’t keep yourself upright, knees buckling underneath you as the truth hit you like a bag of bricks. One of them rushed to catch you, not letting you hit the floor as you fell. Tears flowed like a broken dam and your shoulders shook. The news wreaked havoc on your mind, sending you into a swirl of agony. 

He was gone. He was gone and you didn’t have a chance to say goodbye! He left you alone with only his memory! Didn’t people normally get the honor of getting their spouses tags? Or a uniform? Or even their personal effects? This isn’t right! This isn’t right… Memories flashed through your head, showing you the life you shared with him. The way he smiled, how bright and beautiful it was despite all the devastation he’d seen. The way he laughed, how he snorted at your jokes, how all of it made your heart warm right up even when you were low. The feeling of his hands in yours now becoming a cold memory, knowing you won’t ever get to feel that warmth ever again. You won’t ever get to hear him say “I love you” again. Or sweetheart, or love, or your name. 

Was loving him worth the pain of losing him?

~~~

You woke up with a start, shooting upright with your heart racing and your head pounding. You shook as you looked around for your phone, trying to check the time. When you found it, the time read 3:57 am. You had a new text too, from Ghost. 

‘Can you have nightmares quieter? People are trying to sleep.’

It was a fresh message, sent mere minutes before you woke up. You took a shaky breath, steading your hands as you crafted a reply.

‘Like you’re any better.’ 

‘I am. I have padding on my walls for a reason.’

‘Whatever. Means sound shouldn’t come in either, or something like that.’

‘That’s not what that means.’

‘Who cares?’

‘Not you, apparently.’

‘Correct. Anyway. Its too early to go back to bed. Coffee?’

‘Sure.’

You took another breath, a lot more stable this time. You got up to get ready for the day and clean yourself up from your hangover. Eventually, you met Ghost in the kitchen and had a short conversation before Soap came in, who took over the conversation.

[kirarifutari]

room for two. (jake x reader)

GENRE .. !? jake x reader, roommates, fluff

WARNINGS .. !? sfw! not proof read, rushed bc when is it not, sharing same bed trope, roommate trope, this is bad

WC ..?! aprox. 1.8k

SYNOPSIS .. ?! sharing a shitty apartment with anyone is a pain in itself but with sim jake that was another story, on the most impossible night to sleep, you shamefully knock on your roommates door, asking if there's room for two.

NOTES.. ?! funny story i probably rewrote this like 5 times trying to figure out an actual story line w roommate!jake but it literally still did not work so have this garbage... but if u enjoyed pls share reblog and like hehheehehe <3

You shuffle in your sheets, trying to find a comfortable position on your stale mattress. 

Both sides of your allow were warm and your eyes just couldn’t keep closed. Twisting and turning some more didn’t help either. You checked the time, 01:43 AM. You bring a pillow to your face and let out a muffled groan. 

Sleeping in your rundown little apartment was tough most nights, especially with the train line right next to your window coupled with the little droplets of rain you could feel from the window on rainy nights like this. But you were the one who chose this room for yourself, the other was perfectly fine, not amazing but anything was better than this room. The question is, why this one? Because you’re a push over and wanted to be a nice person. That’s why. 

Joining a new college mid semester was a pain, and no one told you that all the dorms were full, practically leaving you begging for a roommate in some apartment, you didn’t really care how bad it was. (Well, you regret those thoughts a little now…)

There was only one person who was kind enough to offer you a space, he had already rented the apartment under his name and he was even offering you his room, claiming that the other wouldn’t be suitable for you. 

While arranging the living situation, you texted Jake back assuring him a thousand times over that you were fine to take the smaller room, you were just grateful for him to have given you a space at all.

 

It’s true, you meant what you said. Jake was too nice of a person to push him out of his own room when he’d already been kind enough to share rent in the first place. But sharing an apartment with Jake was… more troubling than you thought. 

When you first met him you didn’t expect him to be that pretty of a person. His sharp jawline and happy smile in harmony with the way his hair fell around his face, the cherry on top being his golden retriever like personality. 

You wondered deep down how you were going to last living with practically your ideal type for at least the rest of the year. 

Leaving you back ni your room, time now 01:46AM and you still couldn’t sleep, your eye twitching at the sound of a train passing through the neighbourhood. Your eyes scan the room again, your small desk and makeshift wardrobe, the thin walls and the strange brown circle right above your bed…

Wait. 

You hadn’t noticed that before.

You sit up right, gazing at the patch that had formed on your ceiling, it seemed to be growing rapidly. Just as you were about to get up, grab your phone and inspect it with the lights on, a droplet of water fell on your forehead. No, it wasn’t coming from the window, you were sure of it because the droplets were coming hard and fast. 

“Shit, shit, shit.” You mumble underneath your breath, bursting your door open and trying to grab a bucket from the bathroom as silently as you could, not wanting to disturb Jake in the next room over. Taking the bucket from beside the shower and bringing on top of your bed, you place it directly underneath the leak.

Which also happened to be directly under where you were supposed to sleep for the night. 

You were stumped. It was too late at night to get up and do something to waste time and too early to tough it out till the morning. You’d barely gotten an hour of sleep at this point. 

You chew your lip as you go over the options in your head. 

1.Sleep on your rooms molded, squeaky wooden floor with no blankets too… yours were getting a little wet now.

Or

2. Knock on Jakes door, swallow all your pride, and ask for some spare blankets and sleep on his floor.  

You were seriously considering a third option of flushing yourself down the toilet, but you knew the option A was just as bad as staying up until the sun rose, knowing you’d get no sleep either way. The couch was out of the question too, it would probably give you scoliosis if you tried laying down to sleep on it. 

You sucked in a breath. You needed your sleep… this was going to be the only way, besides what's Jake going to do? Reject you? What’s the worst that could happen… 

Throwing on a hoodie over your tank top you make the walk of shame out of your room, and gently knock on Jake’s door, praying to get this over with quickly. 

At first you thought you heard nothing, knocking gently again, you get a small hum in response. You feel your cheeks heat up at his deep voice. You open the door handle to a bleary eyed Jake with messy bed hair, hunched over his bedside table as he turned on his lamp. Jake’s room was nice, much better than your own with space for a double bed and a built in closet. 

“Hey, what are you doing up? You should get some rest, go back to sleep bunny.” He covered his yawn slightly, leaving you standing there, stupidly trying to get out the right words to explain your situation. 

“Sorry to wake you up,” You start slowly, Jake starting to look more awake now. “But the um, the ceiling it started leaking.” He tilted his head in question over this. “Over my bed and I uh, don’t have anywhere else to sleep, could you lend me some blankets maybe? I-I could sleep on your floor…” You mentally slap yourself for stuttering like an idiot asking him a simple question. 

Jake looked more awake now but still seemed to be processing everything you just said. 

“You want to sleep on my floor?” You wanted to hide from embarrassment, was that seriously all he got out of your little proposal?

“Uh, yeah if that’s okay… we both know how gross mine is.” You laugh a little to fill out the awkward air. Jake is sat up right on his bed now, humming to himself as he puts his head on the headrest. 

He rolls his head towards you, making sharp eye contact as he gives you his usual puppy like smile. 

“There’s room for two in here you know?” He looks at you as if it’s the most obvious solution in the world to your problems, the 1+1 = 2 to your dilemma. You widen your eyes at him to which he only chuckles, shuffling over and flipping up the blanket to invite you in. 

So he wasn’t kidding. 

This wasn’t a little Jake ‘gotcha I’m such a prankster lol!’ moment, this was him seriously offering to sleep in the same bed. You were sure he was delirious. 

“Don’t make me wait for you forever, I have sleep to catch up on bunny.” He raises an eyebrow at you which snaps you out of yoru daze, almost jumping as you slowly close the door behind you and take padded footsteps towards his bed.

You could not believe you were doing this right now.

Gently you sit on his bed and shuffle to lie down, pulling the sheets over yourself. Jake got comfortable pretty quick turning away from you and seemingly fell back asleep within seconds, but you just lied there staring at the ceiling, questioning whether the moldy floor would’ve allowed a more peaceful sleep than this. 

Of course, his sheets smelled exactly like him, and the way he looked when he was sleeping as adorable, all curled up with tiny light snores escaping his lips. You squeeze your eyes shut and consider getting out, knowing there’d be no way you were falling out of consciousness this close to your roommate. But your escape plans rendered useless, a heavy arm locking the route out and trapping you close to his chest. You let out a small sharp gasp, even you could barely hear it yourself, but you were so sure that you could feel Jake smiling against your shoulder. 

Your breathing slowed and your hearts pacing matched his, your eyelids felt heavy and you finally felt yourself drifting off into unconsciousness. A warm fuzzy feeling keeping you smiling in your sleep. 

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

The sunlight gently wavered over your face and an unfamiliar light breeze drifting through the the curtains allowed your eyes to flutter open once again. A split seconds worth of panic arose in you as you noticed the pale white bed sheets and the strange soft mattress. Your surroundings felt all too… nice, you quickly remembered the events of last night and you sighed in relief, only to be swallowed in panic again once you noticed Jake was not sleeping beside you. You looked at the time: 9:30AM. 

Although you were thankful it was a Saturday, it felt odd to be up this later, stranger yet in Sim Jake’s bed… without Sim Jake. 

“Oh the bunny’s awake, morning sunshine.” Jake’s voice startled you form the doorway. He leaned onto the door frame, sipping a cup of coffee in hand and giving you a warm smile. You were dumbfounded at how casual he was about everything, but then again you weren’t going to deny that that was the best sleep you’ve had in months. 

“How long have you been up?” You questioned him.

“Hmm, maybe since 8? I didn’t want to wake you up, you were sleeping so peacefully.” You blush at this, knowing that he’s seen what you look like sleeping gave you that feeling of intimacy that dwelled inside of you. 

“You should’ve woken me up… I feel bad for taking up your space.” You heard Jake chuckle at this, he shook his head, allowing his messy hair to fall over his eyes again. 

“You keep saying that, but we share the rent to this place together, don’t worry about it.” You hum at him, suddenly feeling self conscious under his gaze, clad in a hoodie and pyjama shorts, your hair probably a mess as you try and smooth it out. 

You cough, “So are you gonna call someone to fix the leak? I can call up the landlord of you want me to.” You break your eye contact from him for a moment. 

“No.” He replies flatly, causing you to look back up at him in confusion. “You should sleep in here more often.”

You feel your face go hot again, mouth falling open in an attempt to say something, but Jake had already gotten out of the doorway with a small smirk and a wink.

Leaving you in his sheets,

Time: 9:35AM.

[brbsoulnomming]

Tell Me Sweet Little Lies Part 13

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | AO3

-----

Eddie wakes up in the morning - or at least, he thinks it's morning, though he guesses he could still be losing track of time, and it might still be the same day. His head lulls automatically to the side, gaze seeking out the hospital bed next to him like it's second nature, and -

Steve's gone.

There's no one there, the bed clean and empty with sheets all tucked and a pillow still in plastic, like no one was ever there in the first place.

Fuck, what if he wasn't there? What if Eddie's doped up brain imagined all of this, giving himself the comfort of a circle of friends that would stay with him in the hospital, that promised they wouldn't leave him and meant it? What if he really is alone now?

His breath is coming in short, desperate gasps, and he recognizes enough to know that he's hyperventilating again - though it feels distant, fuzzy, like it's happening to someone else and he's just observing.

Somewhere through the thick cotton obscuring his ears, he can tell someone is saying his name.

It's Dustin, fuck, he knows that voice, and he knows that means he's not alone, that they're still here with him, but he can't quite seem to get the rest of him on board with that thought, can't make it cut the panic racing through him.

There's a loud squawk by his ear, a hitch-pitched whine of feedback and a rush of static, and that startles him enough to focus in on Dustin urgently asking someone to do what they did before.

"Hey, Eddie, can you hear me?" Steve asks, voice tinny but still there, and Eddie tries not to feel pathetic about how hard he latches onto it. "You're all right, you're safe. You're not alone. We've got you, Eds, everyone's okay. We all made it out, we're all with you."

He keeps up the mantra as Eddie's breathing slowly evens out, as he feels himself settle back into himself. Dustin's sitting next to him, eyes wide and panicked, clutching a walkie-talkie and holding it up close to him as Steve's voice sounds from it.

"I'm-" Eddie starts, then has to swallow a few times around how dry his mouth feels. "I'm here. I'm good. Just - saw your bed empty when I woke up, kind of panicked."

"We've all been there," Steve says. "I got myself discharged a few hours ago - I'm out getting things ready. I'll let Dustin take it from here, okay? See you guys soon."

Eddie hums an affirmative, and Dustin lets go of the walkie, tucks it back into his pocket. There's a moment where Eddie has no idea what the fuck to say, but then Dustin shoots a little smile at him.

"It's okay," he says. "It happens to all of us. We skipped school to be with Will the first time this all happened, and I spent the night at Steve's for a week straight once."

Eddie's eyebrows shoot up. "Your mom let you sleep over at Steve Harrington's place for a week?"

Dustin rolls his eyes. "She loves Steve, it's kind of annoying. I told her he got his concussion defending us from bullies that time, and he needed someone to stay with him and make sure his brain didn't bleed out of his ears in his sleep."

There's a pause, and then the kid's eyes go a little bit earnest, like he's trying to sell him on something. "It was great, though. Steve made breakfast every morning, and he let me get whatever I wanted on my pizza, and he cooked dinner sometimes too, and he's got a huge TV and a ton of movies on tape, and he only complains a little bit if you-"

The door slams open, and Eddie jumps.

"We gotta go," Robin says as she and Lucas crowd into the room. "Did you tell him?"

"Tell me what?" Eddie asks, eyes darting around the room, fully expecting to see clocks or vines or fucking bats. "Is it Vecna, did that fucker recover already?"

"No, Max says he was in pretty bad shape. He's gonna be down for a while," Lucas replies.

"It's the cops and the rest of the town looneys," Robin says, taking up a post by the door while Lucas paces across the room, looking out the window. "We heard on the police radio channel, they found out you're here. We gotta get you out."

"Fuck." Eddie swallows, tangling the fingers of his good hand in the sheets of the hospital bed so tight it makes his knuckles creak. "I'm kind of out of options on safe places to lay low and recuperate here."

"What?" Dustin looks affronted. "No you're not. I told you, you've got us."

"All of us," Robin says, as Dustin comes to stand by her at the door.

He cranes his head down the hall. "Is there a doctor coming to release him?"

"Yeah, Erica yelled at him until he gave in, he's on his way." Lucas glances away from the window to look at Eddie. "We hid El in Mike's basement for days without anyone knowing, you think we can't do the same for you?"

Robin snorts. "It's not going to be Wheeler's shitty basement, Eddie, don't worry."

Eddie stares at them. Part of him is aware of what they're saying, is processing that he needs to get out of the hospital and he's not going to have to do it alone - that even though the world isn't technically ending right now, they're all going to stand by him.

But he feels like he did when they came back from sticking up for him with Carver and the others - overwhelmed, like he hasn't done anything to deserve this, like he doesn't know what to do with such clear, undeniable evidence that they've made him one of this party now.

"Eddie?" Dustin asks, stepping in a little closer. "You okay?"

Eddie snaps himself out of it. "Yeah. Just - fuck, all right, let's do this."

Robin helps him stand up, stays by his side as he steps into a pair of loose scrubs that someone's scrounged up for him - he doesn't ask, and he's assuming the clothes he wore in the Upside Down are trashed - and lets him lean on her shoulder so he's somewhat steady on his feet by the time a harried looking doctor makes it into the room.

"You realize you're not ready to be discharged?" the doctor asks immediately.

"I'm over eighteen," Eddie replies. "You can't keep me here if I want to leave, right?"

The doctor sighs. "You'll be leaving against medical advice."

"But I'm not going to, like, die of blood loss or infection or something if I do?" Eddie presses.

"We can't answer that question with any surety without another few days of observation," the doctor replies, then relents when everyone glares at him. "It's highly unlikely."

"Just tell us what we need to do to keep an eye on him," Robin says.

The doctor goes over the cliff notes - soft foods for a while, showers are okay but no soaking, no lifting things over five pounds, there's a page of stretching exercises for his shoulder and leg, a timeline for recovery, and a prescription for the rest of his antibiotics and a smaller one for some painkillers.

"That's all I can give you since you're leaving against medical advice," the doctor says, which Eddie knows is a load of bullshit, but he's too exhausted and itching to get out of here to call him on it.

They herd him out of the room and to the elevator, standing in a little half circle around him like he's got his own little string of tiny bodyguards, and the thought makes him giggle, just a little bit hysterically.

"You guys look like little lion cubs," he says.

"You think we can't protect you?" Dustin asks, sounding hurt.

Eddie shakes his head. "No, no, I'm feeling very protected right now. Thank you."

The elevator dings, and Eddie takes a deep breath as he steps off - into a controlled chaos. The waiting room is packed, some gurneys set up right out there with nurses tending to what seems like minor cases, and even some people sleeping on the floor. Eddie feels a moment of swooping panic, but no one even looks his way. They shuffle him out of the hospital to where Nancy and Erica are waiting in the Wheeler station wagon.

Eddie gingerly climbs in, and Lucas and Dustin slide into the backseat with Erica.

Robin holds up his prescription. "I'm gonna get this filled. Swing back and grab me after you drop them off?" she asks Nancy.

Nancy hums an affirmative, eyes flicking around to make sure everyone's wearing their seat belts before she takes off.

Eddie thinks about asking where they're going, but his stomach and chest and legs and arm ache, and he's wiped just from the walk out of the hospital and to the car. So he just tips his head back against the seat of the car, closes his eyes, and tries to hold himself still enough that the seatbelt doesn't rub up against his wounded gut.

Eventually, the car stops. He expects more talking, but there's a tense silence in the flurry of activity, until someone pulls open the car door and is unbuckling his seatbelt for him.

"Shit," Dustin says. "Is he out again?"

"M'up," Eddie mumbles, though admittedly, he's not entirely sure he's up for moving.

"Go get Steve," Erica orders imperiously. "Someone needs to drag his sorry ass around again."

Eddie forces his eyes open. "M'up, m'up, I got this."

In the time it takes for him to get oriented well enough to notice that the car is in a garage, and then shuffle around to get his feet pointed in the direction of out, though, Dustin's apparently managed to collect Steve, who emerges from what Eddie assumes is the door to a house, wearing a pair of sweats and a Hawkins swim team sweatshirt.

Eddie waves his hands around, preemptively slapping Steve away before he can even get to him. "No," he tells him, as he comes to a stop just out of slapping range. "I know you've got stitches, too. No heavy lifting."

"We're not going to lift you, Eddie, we're just going to help," Nancy says, coming around to his other side, and -

Hmm.

"Yeah, okay," he agrees, lowering his arms for a moment before changing course, and holding one hand out to each of them.

Nancy takes one hand, and Steve the other, and they both step in closer to help guide him out of the car and to his feet. They promptly sling one of his arms over each of their shoulders, and start shuffling their way into the house. Eddie pretends the sharp hiss and the sting of tears in his eyes are due only to the edge of pain from the movement, and not to the fact that he's feeling overwhelmed again by just how willing all of them seem to be to help him when he needs it.

The house that they shuffle him through is fucking pristine, a laundry room that feels bigger than Eddie's kitchen right off the garage and into a hallway, a closed off double door to the right and then a massive living room. There's an l-shaped sofa all made up with pillows and blankets, and that's where they take him, letting him settle down on it with a sigh of relief.

"Robin's filling his prescriptions," Nancy says to Steve. "I'm going to go get her, we'll be back soon."

She heads out as the herd of children Eddie apparently belongs to now troop into the living room, their voices all clamoring together.

Steve whistles, sharp and clear and making Eddie wince, though it does cut through the noise.

"You two," he says, pointing at the Sinclairs. "With me, we're calling your parents from the kitchen. Dustin, you're after them."

The noise picks up again, and this time Eddie can make out loud protests. Steve puts his fingers to his mouth again, and nope, nope, Eddie does not want that sounding off this close to his ear again.

"Hey!" he roars, and even though it makes his throat hurt, it works to shut them up. "Thank you."

"Parents," Steve repeats. "Or they're going to come looking for you, and maybe no one else will think to look for you guys here, but they will."

Dustin groans, but he doesn't protest again.

"What are we even supposed to tell them?" Lucas grumbles.

Steve shrugs. "What do you usually tell them?"

Dustin considers. "…yeah, okay, the babysitter cover will probably still work."

"Add in the Starcourt special," Lucas says.

Eddie looks between them all. "Is any of that supposed to make sense?"

"I told you, our parents love Steve," Dustin says. "He's been beaten up enough protecting us that they think he's some kind of defender against bullies and natural disasters."

Unwillingly, Eddie remembers the headlines after Starcourt, puts it together with what Robin'd told him and how beat to hell Steve looked when Eddie saw him. It doesn't sit well with Eddie, how casually Dustin talks about Steve getting beat up protecting them, but he also remembers Dustin holding onto Steve like he was a lifeline back in the hospital, so he thinks maybe it's a coping mechanism as much as it's a belief that Steve is invincible.

"We'll just tell them Steve was with us when the earthquake hit, and he kept us safe, then we waited with him at the hospital until he was discharged," Lucas says. "It's not even technically a lie."

Erica snorts, unimpressed. "And how does that explain you three sneaking out of the house when the cops were there and running away?"

"The cops? Oh, fucking great," Steve mutters. "What'd they say to you, are you guys okay?"

Max waves her good hand. "They didn't have anything on us. We weren't under arrest, they didn't tell us not to leave the house. They've got nothing."

"Question," Eddie says, holding up a hand. "How does that fit in with Steve carrying my unconscious ass into the hospital and telling everyone we were attacked?"

"You were attacked by the real killer, obviously," Dustin says, rolling his eyes. "But we're not going to bring that out until things have settled down a little."

Eddie considers if it's worth protesting exactly how flimsy that cover story is, and how much it won't hold up to anything, but - well. If he thinks too much about how deeply screwed he is with this murder stuff, it just makes him panic, and he doesn't really have room for all of that right now considering he's barely able to physically function.

He's pretty sure their parents will be too focused on their kids being safe after the "earthquake" for now, so he lets it go.

Steve seems to agree - or comes to an entirely different conclusion with the same result, fuck if Eddie knows, because he just points at Lucas and Erica again. "Kitchen. Now."

The Sinclairs reluctantly follow him, leaving Max and Dustin alone with Eddie.

"They're probably going to make us come home," Dustin mutters.

Max gives him a disdainful look. "At least you probably have a home to go back to."

"Wait, what?" Eddie asks when Dustin winces.

"The trailer park's a wreck," Max says flatly. "The earthquake or whatever it was hit the worst at the gates."

The gates. One of which was on the ceiling of his living room, right where -

"My uncle," Eddie says, trying not to freak out. "Is he okay, has anyone-"

"He's fine!" Dustin says hurriedly. "He was already out of your guys' place, cause, you know, crime scene. The school's been set up as a temporary housing until they can get everything sorted out, he's there."

Fuck if that doesn't make Eddie feel guilty all over again, but knowing his uncle is at least physically safe calms him down.

Max looks a little abashed, like she'd forgotten that she wasn't the only one in this little group who lives on that side of town anymore, which makes his heart go out to her. It's easy to forget about the things that should divide them, when they're all focused on saving the world and just trying to survive another day. He wonders how she deals with it when they're not all caught up in the Upside Down - wonders if she just hasn't been dealing with it at all, considering he knows she's a new resident of Forest Hills and that she'd been pulling away from the group before this.

She doesn't say anything else, and he doesn't ask.

Steve comes back before it gets too awkward, eyes automatically landing on Max in a way that, for a ridiculous moment, makes Eddie wonder if the guy is actually psychic.

"Mrs. Sinclair is asking for you," Steve says. "Do you want to come talk to her?"

His voice is soft, gentle, and he gives Max time to think it over - Eddie gets the feeling that Steve already has an excuse prepared for the Sinclairs if Max says no.

Max's eyes dart over at Eddie and Dustin for a moment, like she's not sure she wants to say anything in front of them. Then she deflates a little and looks back at Steve.

"My mom call back?" she asks.

"Not yet," Steve replies. "We can try again."

Max's jaw sets, and she shakes her head. "No. I want to talk to Mrs. Sinclair."

She stands, and doesn't push Steve's arm off of her when he grabs her in for a side hug as he guides her back into the kitchen.

Dustin leans back in the recliner he'd claimed, propping his booted foot up on the footrest. "I'm going to see if Mom'll let me stay over here a few days," he declares.

"Good luck with that," Eddie says. "Your mom's love of Steve aside, you've been gone for days. I think she's entitled to a day or two of hovering over you."

Dustin's nose scrunches, like he really wants to protest that but he's pretty sure Eddie's right.

"Fine," he mutters. "But you guys have to agree to walkie me every night. Every night, Eddie. And you have to make sure Steve leaves it on, and charged up, and I'm going to make him promise to check in as soon as he wakes up in the morning."

His heart - his stupid, not nearly cynical enough heart - cracks a little. "I'm okay, Dustin. Steve and I made it out okay."

"This time," Dustin says, and he won't meet Eddie's eyes, his voice thick enough that Eddie suspects he's holding back tears. "But you almost didn't. You almost died, Eddie, if El hadn't been ready for Vecna maybe you would have. And Steve - he's my brother, and I know he thinks he's invincible but one day he's not going to be, and he doesn't know how much I need him, how much I need you both -"

"Hey," Steve says.

Dustin yelps at the same time that Eddie jumps, hissing when that pulls at his stitches.

"Shit, Steve, make some noise next time!" Dustin complains.

"Sorry," Steve says, then reaches out to ruffle Dustin's hair. "I know, Dustin. Eddie and I both know, okay? We need you, too."

Part of Eddie wants to wheel back, to tell Steve that's awfully presumptuous of him, but - the part of him that he doesn't want to acknowledge, the bigger part right now, really fucking likes the way Steve says we, the way it makes Dustin stop looking so broken.

"Go home for a few days, then you can tell your mom that you're worried I'm going to rip my stitches trying to take care of myself and come stay over for a while, okay? We'll do it just like the first time."

Dustin considers that for a moment, then nods. "Okay."

"Good," Steve says. "Because it's your turn. You want me to bring the phone out here?"

"Nah, I can make it." Dustin lets down the recliner and slowly shuffles his way to the kitchen.

Steve shoots Eddie a look, and there's something quiet and intense in his eyes, something that Eddie feels like he can almost get, if he just -

Then Steve's moving, following Dustin back to the kitchen, and it's gone.

Eddie's alone.

This is the first time since he spent that long, shitty night in the woods that he's actually had some space to himself without one of the others in this strange little party right there. Part of him thinks he should enjoy the reprieve, taking in a breath and letting it out without worrying about what anyone else might see. Part of him thinks he should be panicking, like he did every time he thought he might have been left alone in the hospital.

He doesn't know what he actually feels.

There's a faint murmur of voices from the kitchen, low and soothing, and he thinks - he thinks about how if he yelled, any one of them would come running for him. He thinks about how if he heard yelling from them, he'd be launching himself up off this sofa and scrambling for the kitchen, bloody bite wounds or not. He thinks about how he ran, and how he didn't, and how none of them seemed to blame him when he ran from an invisible monster that turned a girl who was nothing but nice to him into a broken doll, and how they yelled at him for almost dying when he didn't run from a mob of demon bats who almost tore him to pieces. He thinks about how not one of them ever called him a coward, thinks about how they dragged him out of hell and slept in his hospital room and whisked him off to safety.

He thinks, maybe, they might just keep him, even if he isn't Steve's soulmate.

Steve comes out of the kitchen, shoots him a little wry smile and says, "Kind of figured none of us really want to be alone right now," and Eddie -

He thinks, fuck, he still really wants to be Steve's soulmate anyway.

Taglist (always happy to add more!): @vampireinthesun @koibug @estrellami-1 @mentalcyborg @allbimyself26 @questionablequeeries @the-s-is-silent @whimsicalwitchm @a-gae-af-racoon @tinyplanet95 @n0-1-important @velocitytimes2 @swimmingbirdrunningrock @newtstabber @jcmadgirl @roblingoblin285 @lexyvey @paperbackribs @goodolefashionedloverboi @evix-syne666 @raisedbylibrarians @stxrcrossed186 @nightmareglitter @greekgeek24 @starman-jpg @crazyhatlady86 @imfinereallyy @manda-panda-monium @deleataecount @prideandsensibility @chaoticvictorianspirit @maydillydally @disrespectedgoatman @scarlet-malfoy @i-less-than-three-you @hbyrde36 @hallucinatedjosten @dragonsandgayships @arepaconchocolate @g4ys0n @novelnovella @bisexualdisastersworld @ghostofyourvampiregf @scarletyeager @pettrichore @nerd-and-nervous @hiimlevi @queenie-ofthe-void @cinnamon-mushroomabomination

-----

Part 14

[cherriegyuu]

midnight regrets | bsk

pairing: seungkwan x f!reader genre: angsty kinda? but also fluff maybe? (drunk confession) word count: 848

this is part of my series, seventeen as songs from lover (ts)

Seungkwan ➝ Death By a Thousand Cuts I get drunk, but it's not enough ’Cause the morning comes and you're not my baby ↳ in which Seungkwan drunk calls you, his ex, and finally tells you all the feelings he kept to himself for months.

The clock on your phone told you it was just past four in the morning. Your insomnia had gotten to you yet again and this time it seemed like it had decided to stay. You did everything you were supposed to, ate better, avoided certain smells and foods that could trigger a migraine that could cause insomnia, but none of it seemed to matter. 

In the last couple of days, you only managed to get a total of 5 hours of sleep. It was a wonder in itself that your brain still functioned, poorly of course. 

With a groan, you turned on your side. You just wanted to sleep, like a normal person, for a few hours. Was that really too much to ask? 

Your phone started to vibrate on your bedside, the blue light suddenly pulling the room out of its complete darkness. No one in their right mind would call you in the middle of the night. Not because you would get angry at them but because no one calls anyone at four in the morning. 

Even if the number calling you wasn't saved a contact, it was one you remembered all too well. It was impossible to make your heart stay calm, to keep quiet. But your brain was telling you that there was something wrong. 

It had been almost six months since you and Seungkwan broke up. After the final words had been said, you never saw him again. You returned his things to Vernon and he had left yours with your doorman. You stopped following him on social media and deleted his number. 

The breakup hadn't been bad, per se. When you finally got down to it, you simply realized that you wanted things that Seungkwan didn't seem willing to give to you. 

When you told him that you wanted to break up his only words were "If that's what you really want, I won't do anything to stop you from leaving"

It hurt so much because you felt like he didn't care at all about you and it was clear that your relationship had come to an end way before you finally decided it was time to. 

Truthfully, you were still healing and you knew that taking that call was probably a bad idea. But what if something was wrong? What if he was in some kind of trouble?

After taking a deep breath, you accepted the call.

"Hello?"

"You weren't supposed to take the call," he said with a whine, words slurred.

You settled back against the pillows, relief flooding your body. Nothing was wrong, Seungkwan was just drunk. 

"Was I not? But you called" 

"But you shouldn't have" 

You could see him pout, eyes closed, and furrowed eyebrows. You couldn't hold back the smile that spread on your lips. 

"Why did you call, Seungkwan?"

There was a pause and a sigh. 

Seungkwan always looked cute when drunk, though all of his friends would disagree with you. It was easy to hear to distinguish Vernon's voice saying he called yn and Chan's oh he's drunk drunk.

"I miss you so much" he cried "Did you know that? Every single day I wake up and you're the first person I think about. Sometimes something happens and it's so trivial but I want to call you and tell you about it. And sometimes I wonder where we went wrong and I know isn't an us problem, it was a me problem. It wasn't you because you weren’t perfect for me but I wasn't perfect for you. And I…"

You covered your mouth as if it would be enough to suppress the sound of your small sobs.

"I didn't want perfection, Seungkwan. All I wanted was you"

He whined again, a cry left his mouth and you swear that he fell because the next you heard was Chan's exasperated dude, be careful. 

"I should have said something that day but your words hurt me, so I let my pride take over. I should have asked you why, at least. I do know why but maybe if I asked I would have come up with some sort of argument. And then you returned my things to Vernon because you didn't even want to see me. And you unfollowed me everywhere and I bet you deleted my number. Because you always said hi baby, when I called or Seungkwan? if you were worried. I miss you so much and I love you so much. I want to try again, can you give me another chance? Hm?"

Seungkwan wasn't the kind of drunk who couldn't talk, who was hard to understand. His words got a little slurred and he talked a little bit slower but you could understand every single one of them. His desperation was obvious.

"You're all I ever wanted. I'm sorry I can't say it sober"

You closed your eyes. Maybe you would regret your words but you still wanted to try, even if you and Seungkwan were destined to fail.

“If when you wake up you still feel the same way, we can”

taglist: @wonwooz1, @ryuwonieebae, @sobun1est, @mirtaspace, @feat-sun, @wonvsmile, @belladaises, @mhlsymlysn, @immabecreepin, @miriamxsworld, @aaniag , @sofix-hc7, @scarlet789, @moonlightgrleric, @r6njunlv, @mixling-blog, @k-drama-adict

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[garbbitch]

you stood me up!

jb x reader

angst, fluff

julien was working on her next album, spending long hours at the studio and working. you were as supportive as you could’ve been. she was working a lot and getting a lot more pissy a lot more often. like, you guys had fought a lot in the last month after being together for a few years.

[flashback]

one night she came from home from the studio but you were still at work, she knew you were gonna be, she knew that you were gonna be later than usual. that morning you guys agreed that she was gonna cook dinner to make everyone’s life a little easier. except when she got home that day, she got in bed, and just went to sleep.

you came in from work exceptionally tired from a long boring meeting with the board of directors of your company. when you came in and saw there was no sign of anything being done in the kitchen you started to worry.

“julien? are you home?” you called as you took off your shoes by the door. you didn’t even see her usual converse by the door.

she said nothing. you huffed and walked to your bedroom where you saw julien laying on the bed asleep. you knew she was working hard and honestly felt bad for her. you gently woke her up.

“baby, are you alright?” you asked gently as your stroked her hair.

“fuck— i was supposed to cook. i’m sorry.” she said as she started to get up. you didn’t wanna stress her more than necessary so you offered to help her cook. she declined and ran to the kitchen. you shrugged it off before changing into some comfier clothes before joining her in the kitchen.

“it’s not like you to get in bed so early, are you feeling ok?” you asked as you made yourself some tea to soothe your lingering headache from work.

“i’m fine.” she said in a tone that made you do a double take. you could tell she wasn’t in the best mood.

“well, if you had told me you were too tired i would’ve picked up takeout or something.” you said gently, not wanting to stir the pot any further.

“fuck—“ she said softly, “i can’t keep you updated on my every fucking emotion yn.” she snapped. you were taken aback by her words.

“woah, i didn’t say—“ you started.

“you were gonna.” she cut you off. you eyed her as she cooked, she didn’t face you.

“no i wasn’t, julien.” you said back, she turned off the burner and went back into your shared bedroom, slamming the door. what the fuck just happened? you stood there in shock for a moment. you looked at the half cooked food and you decide to let her think about whatever was causing her bad mood and finish cooking yourself.

[end of flashback]

lately, you guys had a lot of little petty arguments. about walking the dogs, what kind of food they were eating, your work schedule. you name it yall had a petty argument about it. lucy had told you guys you needed a date night after hearing yall fight one too many times. you guys liked the idea and settled for a night the two of you weren’t working.

it was a monday night, you both knew it was a weird night to go out but you figured any restaurants would be less crowded.

you got home early, around 4:30 and you got ready for your date that was supposed to be at 6. she still hadn’t got home at 5 and you sent her a text.

yn: hey baby, you leaving work soon?

she didn’t respond till 5:45.

jb: yeah, something is running later than expected, take an uber there. i’ll be there soon.

you got to the restaurant at 6:10 due to the uber being later than you expected. you waited outside the restaurant for her. you waited and waited and waited.

you texted her at 6:15.

yn: are you almost here?

you called her at 6:20. she didn’t answer, you started to realize she wasn’t coming. you waited another 10 minutes and you called her again at 6:30. you got no response.

yn: i’m going home.

julien saw that final text and felt her stomach drop to her toes. she knew she fucked up, but there was a specific sound she was trying to get in the studio and nothing was working the way she wanted it to. she knew she fucked up.

at home you took off your makeup, took off your cute clothes and threw your new lingerie you bought for tonight in the closet somewhere. you put on a hoodie that was no doubt hers and a pair of shorts, you curled up on the couch with some ice cream and watched crappy tv.

around 6:50 you heard the door open behind you. you didn’t turn around to see who it was. you knew it was julien, you could tell by the way the floor creaked under her step.

“baby— i’m so sorry. i fucked up bad.” she said gently as she walked over to the couch.

you turned to face her, your makeup smudged and what mascara you couldn’t get off running down your cheeks.

“baby— talk to me.” she pleaded with you. you sighed and placed the ice cream on the coffee table.

“you stood me up, jb.” you said softly, sounding hurt. it wasn’t so much the fact that she stood you up, it was all the constant arguing that was happening lately combined with the getting stood up.

“i know baby— and i’m sorry.” she said, she sat down on the couch, she was trying to get on your level. you met her gaze.

“do you still love me?” you asked softly, your voice barely above a whisper. her face fell as she realized how badly she fucked up.

“of course i do.” she said gently, she moved a hand to cup your cheek. “i know i’ve been very tense lately and i took it out on you a lot. and i’m sorry. but i still love you so so so much.” she said as she stroked your cheek.

“you’ve been fighting with me all the time and then when we finally have time to be together you leave me stranded.” you said, feeling fed up. “do you do that to the people you love? would you do that to lucy and phoebe?” you accused. she was dumbfounded by your words.

“no- i-i wouldn’t. but they also understand my job. you don’t.” she said back to you, you were both tense now.

“what, cause i can’t afford custom gucci suits i don’t ‘get’ you? has it ever occurred to you that maybe you don’t get me?” you snapped. you started to walk away. she gently grabbed your wrist to stop you.

“what do you even mean by that?” she asked you.

“you’ve never worked a real job in your life, jb, c’mon. you don’t get me, just like i could never get you. guess we should just fuckin break up, right?” you snapped again, taking your wrist from her grasp. she opened her mouth like she was gonna say something but closed it.

“yn, baby, i fucked up but, it’s not worth ending what we have. and you do get me. better than anyone. i shouldn’t have said that.” she said gently.

“what exactly do we have?” you snapped, you were really tired of all of the fighting. “cause lately, all we have are arguments, julien.” you said before she could answer.

“no we don’t.” she said, trying to plead with you.

“oh really? what happened when i had to work late? you picked a fight about me asking how you were doing.. and when i fed the dogs a different food you basically called me dumb. hell, you know it’s bad when lucy is trying to tell us we need to go on a date night to relieve some tension.” you spoke quickly. she knew you were right.

she sighed. “your right.” she said softly sounding defeated. “but i love you so much baby, even if i haven’t shown it lately. i really am sorry i’ve been so terrible lately.” she spoke gently and stepped a little closer to you.

you shook your head. “i don’t like feeling like i need to walk around on eggshells julien.” it dawned on you why she was acting this way, “did you stop taking your meds?” you asked gently. her blood ran cold.

“n-no i uh— i can explain” she stuttered.

“oh my god— julien, you can’t just do that.” you sighed, you wanted to still be angry with her but you knew that her attitude had a reason, and a good one at that. “you can’t go off your meds, especially when you’re working so much.” you said gently.

“i’m just trying to write good music.” she admitted softly. you shook your head.

“julien, you and i both know that’s not how that works.” you said gently, she started to protest. “ah ah— tell me, have you written anything you like since you stopped taking it?” you asked.

“i- no.” she said sounding defeated.

“please go back to taking them. please.” you said gently.

“fine.” she said softly. “can i she a hug from my favorite girl?” she asked gently as she held her arms open.

you hugged her tightly. “i’m sorry i stood you up baby. let’s try again, yeah?” she asked gently as she stroked your back.

[lumosandnoxwriting]

now I wake up by your side || George Weasley

Title: now i wake up by your side Pairing: George x Reader Summary: You know what they say, what goes up must always come back down. Except George thought he was the exception to that rule. Because with things going so well for him there’s no way they’d ever end. Unfortunately for George the higher you go, the harder you fall. And as he watches Y/N walk away from him for the last time he finally realizes how true that saying is. Because George Weasley has officially run out of time, and everything has started to crumble around him.  Warnings: NSFW! Minors DNI this contains female masturbation, male masturbation, dirty talk and phone sex.  A/N: ahhhhh the second to last part of hockey!george!! I hope you all enjoy - feedback is always welcome and appreciated!

-

 The apartment is too quiet without George around. 

This is the part about being with a hockey player that Y/N has always hated: away games. If she thought it was bad when George was in the junior league, it’s even worse in the NHL. Unlike the NFL and some other professional sports, there’s 82 games in the regular season, with the potential for there to be 28 additional games for a team that makes it to the Stanley Cup finals. 

Meaning from the end of September until at least the middle of April, hockey players spend more time on the road than they do at home. Instead of being gone for a day or two, when they hit a stretch of away games it’s common for a team to be on the road for up to two weeks. 

And unfortunately for Y/N, preseason has taken the Rebels away for the next 10 days. The timing couldn’t be any worse either, considering the fact that now that she and George have crossed the boundary of physical intimacy her body craves his touch, and it seems like she’s walking around in a perpetual state of horniness. And it’s only been 48 hours.

Worse off is that the team left for the road just two days after their first game, so they didn’t really even get to talk about where this new development in their supposedly fake relationship leaves them. Because to Y/N, George claiming her body from the inside out several times during their brief time together is everything but fake. 

And it’s not just the sex that Y/N misses. 

That first night George was gone she tossed and turned all night, only sleeping for an hour or two at a time before she’d wake up missing the feel of his arms around her. Dousing George’s pillow in his cologne and hugging it tightly as she slept  last night worked a little, but she still didn't wake up feeling well rested. 

She especially misses the mundane aspects of their life together. Like the fact that there wasn’t a fresh pot of coffee waiting for her when she woke up. And even though George still found time to get her during the day, their conversations weren’t filled with plans for dinner and what to watch on TV, which filled Y/N with a pang of sadness. That first afternoon she’d even made George’s usual protein shake, and it wasn’t until she wrapped up her work day at 5:30, a full hour after George should have been home, did she remember he wouldn’t be around for days. 

Even just the absence of hearing him breathe has her heart aching. 

Thankfully their first road game is tonight, and she’ll get her fill of George time while she watches. Even if it’s through the TV and he’ll be wearing all of his gear. It’s better than nothing. 

Jenny invited her over to watch the game with Olivia and some other partners, and even though she kind of wanted to just mope around the apartment, Y/N found herself saying yes and now that she’s settled on the couch between Olivia and Kate she’s happy that she came. Because even though they aren’t George, Y/N’s heart feels full being surrounded by the women she’s gotten to know over the past few weeks. 

This fake engagement hasn’t only brought George back into her life, it’s brought this amazing group of people into it too, and Y/N can’t imagine having to say goodbye to any of them. Which, unfortunately, is a thought that has crossed her mind several times since George kissed her goodbye two days ago. And without him by her side to squash those negative thoughts she’s let them run rampant. 

Losing George will absolutely shatter her heart. But losing George and all of these people? It will shatter her soul. 

Which is why Y/N plans on confronting George as soon as he gets back from this road trip. Not knowing where their relationship stands is slowly killing her, and Y/N needs to know if they’re both on the same page. It’s time to either move forward together, or for Y/N to pack her bags and head home to Washington with her tail tucked between her legs and her entire world shattered. 

Thankfully someone switches the TV on as the game starts, and the chatter of the announcers pulls Y/N out of the depressive swirl her thoughts were taking her down. Warmups have just ended, and as they get ready for things to really start, the commentators talk about the match up. 

“It’s still early yet, but I’ve got to say, Steve, the Rebels are looking mighty fine this season.”

“I couldn’t agree with you more, Jim. After their devastating loss in the playoffs last season and the retirement of their team captain, Tyler Crawford, we were skeptical that they’d be able to wrangle it in and start this season off strong - and boy am I glad to say we were wrong.”

“Absolutely, Steve. Working with a whole new slew of Rookies can be difficult, especially without a Captain, but the Rebels sure have shown what a strong team they are.”

“And I’m sure we have George Weasley, the Rebel’s starting Center and one of the top scorers in the league to thank for the team’s starting success. We’ve had the pleasure of sitting in on some Rebel’s practices this training camp and I can see why Weasley is the front runner for Captain. The way he commands his team is truly awe-inspiring.”

Their praise of George and his skills makes Y/N’s cheeks flush. She’s so damn proud of George and everything he has accomplished in his career. Ever since they were little kids learning to skate together George has been determined to be a star in the NHL, and seeing that dream come to reality makes every single struggle and hurdle their relationship has gone through worth it. 

“Weasley certainly has stepped up to the plate since Crawford, his mentor’s retirement. If the rumor mill is to be believed all us Rebels fans’ have a pretty girl from Weasley’s hometown to thank for that.”

The girls all squeal at the mention of Y/N and George’s relationship, and she can feel her cheeks flush even deeper.

“Jim, you are worse than my wife when it comes to those gossip rags. But, after Weasley scored his two goals during the team’s first preseason game he did raise his stick, pointing it towards the box reserved for the Rebel’s friends and families, which fans have affectionately dubbed the WAG box, and one of the camera’s did catch him mouthing the words ‘that was for you’, so it’s safe to say the rumor mill may actually be onto something for once.”

“Well whoever that mystery woman is I hope you stick around, because I’d love to see Chicago take home the cup this year.”

They move on to talk about the team the Rebel’s are up against, North Carolina, and Y/N relaxes back into her seat. No worries, Steve, she definitely plans on sticking around.

-

That night when Y/N makes it back to their apartment her heart is full, and she doesn’t miss George as much as she did earlier. Because during the game George scored a hat trick, and after every single goal his stick rose to the camera, still seeking her out from thousands of miles away, and the lens zoomed in as he mouthed those same four words that never fail to increase her heart rate. 

“That was for you.”

And if that wasn’t enough to squash all of her doubts about the status of their relationship, he’d actually did a post game interview, and when he was asked about his new mystery girl, George had looked directly into the camera, like he was starting right into Y/N’s eyes and said:

“She knows who she is. I can’t wait to come home to you every day for the rest of my life, baby.”

Now she’s in their bedroom, stripping off all of her clothes except for George’s jersey, before she climbs into bed to wait for his call. 

It’s something they always used to do whenever he was on the road. Instead of going out with the guy’s to celebrate a win or commensurate over a loss, George would head straight back to the hotel to spend the night on the phone with her. 

They hadn’t discussed if that would be the case this time around in their relationship, but Y/N had been confident that it would be considering the other traditions George has continued. And the texts she received from him after the game set her belly on fire and had her pussy throbbing. 

George: fuck I miss you baby, i don’t want to celebrate a win unless you’re there with me

George: i know how wet you get watching your man dominate on the ice

George: tell me, Y/N, how fucking drenched is your pussy right now?

George: actually, don’t tell me. As soon as im back at the hotel you’re gonna answer my facetime call and show me how wet my pretty pink pussy is

George: because that pussy belongs to me, doesn’t it, baby?

All she’d managed to reply was a simple yes, thankful that George insisted on hiring her a car service. Because had she read those messages while driving Y/N certainly would have crashed the car. 

She’s just barely settled against the pillows when her phone lights up with George’s call, and Y/N doesn’t hesitate before she swipes her thumb across the screen to answer. 

“Hi,” she answers breathlessly, a smile tugging at her lips as George appears. 

“Hi baby,” George greets, eyes dragging across the screen to take in every inch of Y/N he can see. She’s still got his jersey on and it makes his already hard cock twitch in his boxers. Just the mere thought of Y/N in their bed, surrounded by the smell of them combined, wet and waiting for George to call was enough to get him going. 

It’s only been two days, but in George’s mind it might as well have been two months with how much he misses Y/N. For the first time in years hockey isn’t the most important thing in his life, the girl smiling at him through the phone is, and that should scare the shit out of George. 

But it doesn’t. 

Because when his hockey career is over he’ll still have Y/N and the family he wants them to build, and George knows that life will be more fulfilling than a lifetime in the NHL could ever be. George used to fear the day he retires, afraid of how empty his life will be without the sport he loves so much. 

Now he can’t wait for the life that’s waiting for him beyond the NHL.

Y/N watches as George settles into his bed, teeth digging into her bottom lip when she gets a flash of his bare chest. 

“My eyes are up here,” George teases, chuckling when her gaze flicks back to his. “I miss you so fucking much, baby.”

The vulnerability in his voice sends a flutter through her tummy. “I miss you too.”

George’s eyes darken at her sultry tone. “Bet that fucking pussy misses me too, doesn’t it, baby?” He uses the hand not gripping his phone to reach down and grab a hold of his cock when Y/N nods in response. “Show me, baby. Show me how much my pussy misses me.”

Y/N lets out a soft moan and her legs immediately spread, knees pressing to the mattress to bare her cunt to the room. She slowly pans the camera down, letting it follow her left hand as it glides down her torso, heading right for where she craves George’s touch. 

“Fuck,” George groans as her pussy comes into view, his hand slipping beneath the waistband of his boxers. “Coat your fingers, baby,” he instructs, taking himself in his hand. “Show me how wet they are.”

“Oh,” Y/N gasps as her index and middle finger glide through the wetness gathering between her thighs, just barely letting them brush against her clit. Once she’s coated her fingers she pulls them away from her pussy, twisting them in the dim light so George can see them shine.

“You’re a fucking dream, Y/N.” George starts to slowly stroke his cock, mouth dry from how much he aches to taste her. “All of that ‘cause of me, baby?”

“Yes,” Y/N pants as she rubs her slick fingers over her clit. “Always for you, George. Just thinking about you has me dripping down my thighs.”

“What were you thinking about, baby?”

The look on George’s face as he watches her touch herself pulls a whine from Y/N’s lips, and her cunt clenches around nothing. “Your cock, how good it feels inside of me. How, fuck, how you stretch me out and make me take all of you.”

“Cause that pretty little pussy was made to take me, wasn’t it, baby?” George asks, his voice rumbling in his chest. He’s barely touched himself and yet he already feels embarrassingly close. 

“Yes, George, my whole body was made for you.”

George has to squeeze the base of his cock to keep from cumming as he watches Y/N slip a finger into her cunt. Her engagement ring glitters in the low lighting, and it makes him absolutely feral that Y/N is touching herself for him, using the same hand he slid his ring on. Even when he’s hours away part of him is still there, laying claim to his girl. 

“That’s it, baby,” George encourages as Y/N slips another finger into her pussy, her soft moans sending shivers down his spine as he strokes his cock in earnest. “Make yourself cum on your fingers while I watch, baby. Fuck yourself with those dainty little fingers while you pretend it’s my cock.”

It doesn’t take long before Y/N is falling over the edge, her back arching off the bed as George’s name tumbles from her lips. She can barely keep a grip on the phone, but she squeezes hard, wanting George to watch her cum around her fingers. 

“Good fucking girl,” George growls as Y/N brings the camera back up to settle on her face. Her cheeks are flush, breaths coming heavy and the satisfaction of knowing he did that to her without even touching her brings him to the edge. 

The sound of her name falling from George’s mouth as he cums makes Y/N’s clit throb, and if she wasn’t so focused on watching his brows knit together as pleasure overtakes his face she’d probably be bringing herself to another orgasm. 

“George?” Y/N murmurs after a few moments of silence, both of them just smiling softly at the other. 

“Yes baby?”

“Come home soon, please.”

George grins, and he aches to reach out and trace her face. “I’ll always come home to you, Y/N. Always.”

-

Y/N is practically vibrating with excitement. After ten long days of nothing but text messages, phone calls and facetime sex George is finally coming home. She ended up taking the day off, because after barely being able to sit still through her morning meeting Y/N knew there was no chance in hell she’d be getting any work done. 

Because tonight when he gets home, Y/N is finally going to tell George she loves him for real. 

The distance between them has only made her feelings for George grow, and she’s tired of pretending. Even with George on the road he’s made the effort to be there for her, and show her how much he cares, and Y/N is sure this is the right decision.

The sound of her phone ringing practically makes her jump out of her skin, and Y/N answers on the second ring - not even bothering to check who it is. Satan himself could be on the other end and Y/N wouldn’t care less. 

Nothing can bring her down, not today. 

“George?” she answers excitedly. 

“Wrong twin,” Fred chuckles. 

Y/N tries to hide the disappointment in her voice. “Oh, hey Fred.”

“You could at least pretend to be happy it’s me,” he teases. “How’s Chicago?”

“It’s good, weird without George around. How’s everything back home?”

“That’s what I called you to talk about, actually,” Fred starts. “I was just wondering when you planned on coming back?” Y/N fumbles around for an answer, but before she has the chance to find the right words Fred carries on. “I mean I’ve had a great time covering your lessons at the rink, but I’ve kinda been missing my free time, and now that George is Captain and this whole thing can end I was kinda hoping...”

Fred keeps talking but Y/N doesn’t hear any of it. No, she's too focused on those three little words. George is Captain. They seem so small, so insignificant, but it’s as if Fred has just dropped a bomb on her. Her chest feels tight, and it’s like she forgot how to breathe.

“Hang on, back up a second,” she cuts Fred off. “What did you say? George is captain?”

“Yeah?” Fred responds, the confusion he’s feeling clear in his tone. “Morrison is waiting until the first regular season game to announce it, but he told him the other night at that dinner you guys went to.” Fred pauses. “He didn’t tell you.”

No, he didn’t. She has outright asked George what Coach had wanted that night and he looked her in the eyes and lied. 

Again. 

Just like that night in the rink, when she asked what was wrong and he lied to her about needing to focus on hockey. When he took her heart in his hands and smashed it into a million pieces. 

How the fuck has she allowed him to do it again?

“Y/N?” Fred’s voice comes through the phone when she doesn’t say anything. 

“Gotta go,” she responds simply, hanging up the call. 

Y/N was so sure. So fucking sure that George felt the same way as she does. But if he lied to her about being named Captain, the whole fucking reason this charade started in the first place, what else could he be lying to her about?

She’s not sure she’ll survive finding out the answer to that question. 

-

“Honey I’m home!” George calls out when he swings the door open, a frown taking over the smile on his face when he doesn’t find Y/N right there to greet him. He’d broken pretty much every single traffic law in his eagerness to get home to her, so he’s disappointed that she’s not waiting at the door.

“Y/N?” he shouts, shutting the door behind him. 

He can hear shuffling coming from somewhere deeper in the apartment, and when she doesn’t answer George follows it all the way to the bedroom. He can feel his heart hammering in his chest, hoping that there’s some kind of sexy surprise waiting for him when he pushes open their bedroom door. 

Except the sight in front of him stops him in his tracks. Because instead of Y/N laying in their bed naked, waiting for him to ravish her, there’s a suitcase open on the bed and Y/N is darting around the room, talking to herself quietly as she collects her belongings and shoves them inside. 

“Y/N, what the fuck is going on?”

She finally notices his presence, and Y/N stops for a moment, eyes narrowed as she looks at George. “You tell me,” she seethes, before she goes back to shoving things into her bag. 

“Baby, baby hang on,” George pleads, his confusion evident. He comes into the room, stepping between her and the suitcase so she’s forced to stop packing and look at him. “Talk to me, Y/N. Why are you packing?”

“Why don’t you tell me, Captain?” she spits, and George recoils at the mixture of anger and hurt in her voice. 

“Oh. So you know about that, huh?” George stutters out, his mind reeling to find something to say.

This is not how he intended for this conversation to go. He planned on telling Y/N tonight, he was going to come clean about everything. George planned on taking her to his favorite restaurant, and over dessert he was going to tell her that Coach had made him Captain, and that he wanted to offer her a permanent place in both his heart and his home. He was finally going to tell her that he loves her, and that this arrangement has been anything but fake. 

Now with that plan out the window he’s scrambling over how to fix this. He already lost Y/N once, and he sure is shit doesn’t plan on doing it again. 

“Know that you lied to me? Yeah, I do.”

Y/N shoves past George, her hands shaking as she shoves the last few things into her suitcase. She’d hoped to be gone by the time that George would be back, to save herself the embarrassment of having him watch her fall apart once again. 

After she hung up on Fred Y/N wasn’t really sure what to do, all she knew was she had to get out of Chicago as soon as possible. Everything between them had felt so natural and real, and the thought that it was all just a lie George was putting on made her feel sick to her stomach. Even though she still loves George and deep down she knows she should stay and hear what he has to say, she’s not quite sure she’s ready for that. 

So once she wiped away her tears she booked the next flight out of town and started packing up. This is George’s home, after all. The only claim she had to it was the man standing behind her and she’s not even sure she has a claim on him either. 

“Y/N I promise you, I was going to tell you about the Captain thing. I just wanted to-”

Except she cuts him off. “Wanted to what? Get your dick wet a couple of times before you sent me packing?”

George physically recoils at her words. “No, Y/N. Fuck, that’s not it at all.”

“Well that’s what it feels like.” Y/N zips her suitcase shut and yanks it off of the bed before she turns to look at George. The look of pure heartache on his face nearly brings her to her knees, but she has to stand her ground. “I asked you what Coach wanted that night and you looked me dead in my eyes and lied to me George. Just like you did that night at the rink. And then the next night you got me naked in bed knowing that you were lying to me. Do you have any idea how that makes me feel?”

“Baby, please,” George pleads as Y/N grabs the handle of her suitcase and storms out of the room. He follows her down the hallway, desperately trying to hold on to her. “Just stop for a second, Y/N please. I can’t fucking think when you’re upset with me like this. Give me a chance to explain, please. Don’t go, baby. Not like this.”

Y/N stops at the front door, one hand on the handle. But she doesn’t open the door, not quite yet. She takes a deep breath, steeling herself before she turns to look at George. There are tears streaming down his face, and it takes all of her strength to force the words out of her mouth. 

“Good bye, George. For real this time.”

-

George only returns to their bedroom in the wee hours of the morning, the whiskey flowing through his veins making him numb enough to be in the space that still smells of her. When he crawls into bed he lets the tears that have been gathering flow down his cheeks, his hands desperately reaching for the pillow that still smells like her. 

He hugs it tightly to his chest, smothering his cries into the fabric as he takes a deep inhale of Y/N’s familiar scent. He desperately needs to feel her in his arms again, but the softness of her pillow will have to do.

[penny00dreadful]

Somebody To Love - Part 3

Part 1 Part 2 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 AO3

Looks like we're going the direction of two parts here = one chapter on AO3 so consider this your sneaky peek for chapter two! 😘

Eddie was not spiralling.

He was not.

He had not fallen into a complete self-destructive hole after his world was rocked by the sudden and out of nowhere realisation that Steve Harrington… Steve fucking Harrington, his employee, his best friend, his babysitter, his god-damn saving grace, his… his everything… was in love with him?

It hadn't...

It couldn't...

He refused to believe it.

So what if he had called the guy from the video shoot yesterday. 

So what if he had taken him back to his home and done exactly what he had planned to do to him last night, for hours.

It wasn’t like he was trying to prove anything to himself.

It wasn’t like all of these god-damn feelings, that had cropped up in the wake of that realisation, were fucking drowning him and he needed to do something about them. To make them go away, to fuck them out and all but destroy the body underneath him to make himself believe that all of this was just some crossed wires or misinterpretation or him seeing things where there wasn’t anything to be seen.

Because there couldn’t be anything.

There couldn’t be.

But Eddie was forced to recon with the fact that maybe he had been running again when he woke up the next morning and looked over to find that bruised and tender expanse of skin stretched across the back of that guy from the video shoot and fuck, he couldn’t even remember his name.

Eddie had made a rule for himself some years ago after a particularly harrowing experience to never ever sleep with someone who seemed just a little bit too eager to have him specifically again. 

And Jesus H. Christ had this guy been eager. 

It wasn’t unusual, people clamouring to get into his pants. But there was a difference in between them and the type that this guy was.

Something just a little unsettling in hindsight about how badly he wanted Eddie to mark him up. To put bruises and bite marks and handprints on him, like it was some kind of trophy to parade around. 

Look at me! Look at all these marks I got a rockstar to put into my skin!

Like, everything had been consensual on both ends, of course it had. No matter how deep Eddie would go, he would never lose himself like that. 

But it still left a bad taste in his mouth in the light of day. Like Eddie could’ve carved his name into the guys forehead and he would have said thank you. Like it would be something for him to post online or scream from the rooftops about like a badge of honour that never ended well.

Eddie slid out of his bed, being thankful not for the first time that the obscene amount of money he had now allowed him the space and budget to buy a bed big enough to fit at least four grown men easily.

And it had, a few times in the past. 

Shit.

Maybe he wasn’t as in control of everything as he’d always thought he was. Had he ever been? Had he ever had a proper handle on the amount of sex or drugs or alcohol he’d subjected his body and mind to?

Deep down he knew the answer to that. He’d known the answer to that for a very long time, he’d just never wanted to admit it to himself. 

Not before now.

He'd never had a handle on it.

Because Steve had had a handle on it for him. 

Steve had always been the one keeping him at a relatively safe level, ever since he’d come into his life all those years ago. Ever since the first time he’d had to stick his fingers down Eddie’s throat and ride with him to the hospital to get his stomach pumped. 

He’d never been allowed to get to that level again.

Jesus H. Christ Eddie was just one walking giant fucking red flag, wasn’t he? What the hell did Steve see in him?

He felt like he was walking downstairs with a cartoon cloud hanging over his head.

Eddie didn’t stop at the kitchen, just continuing on down to the basement, reaching out for his guitar like a lifeline. He curled up on the couch and picked out nonsense on the strings, letting whatever music came out of him compliment his sour mood.

Eddie didn’t know how long he stayed down there, but eventually his mood started to lift. Music was always a bit of a gift for him like that. It always managed to make him feel better.

It was only when he caught sight of a melting bright pink frappuccino sitting on the coffee table that he started to panic.

Because that meant that Steve was here. 

Of course Steve was here, Steve was always here, taking care of him and cleaning up his messes.

He realised then why he’d felt so comfortable leaving that guy alone in his house, alone in his bedroom while he hid underground like a worm.

Because he’d done it so many times before.

Because he’d always left it up to Steve to show the guys the door while Eddie fucked off to do whatever it was he decided he was doing that day, oftentimes exactly what he was doing now, brooding in his basement studio with his guitar.

He didn’t know what it was this time around but he couldn’t shake the feeling that if Steve came face to face with the guy upstairs it would be disastrous. Something would happen, something would go wrong.

Except he did know why it was different this time, of course he did. Because this time was the first time he was fully aware of Steve’s potential feelings for him and what it must do to him every time he had to go kick Eddie’s latest conquest out of the house.

He shot to his feet but only made it halfway up the stairs before the sound of the front door slamming shut echoed around the house and he froze in place.

Another creak came from up above and he shot back into action, running up the remaining steps like a bat out of hell and barrelling straight into the man himself.

“Jesus.” Steve had both of his hands on Eddie’s arms to steady him, he looked as put together as he always did but there was something about his posture that was off. He was a little too stiff, his eyes were slightly red and his face had a slight flush to it. 

He looked like he’d been crying.

Or trying desperately not to.

“What happened?” Eddie clutched back at the lapels of Steve's suit jacket in a panic and Steve himself looked momentarily bewildered at Eddie's desperation before he tried to brush it off.

“Sent the guy home,” he shrugged, “the usual.”

“Something happened, tell me.” Eddie couldn't explain it, he felt like something was slipping through his fingers and he was powerless to stop it.

Steve shook his head. “Nothing happened, Eds.”

“No, no. Something happened, Stevie. What was it? Did the guy say something to you or-”

Steve’s face shuttered, that infuriating blank mask was put back into place.

Eddie dug his fingers in. “What did he say?”

“It’s- he didn’t say anything.”

“No, Stevie, sweetheart, tell me please. Please.”

“Eddie.” Steve’s voice was firm and unwavering. He let go of Eddie’s arms and prised himself out of his grip. “Drop it, alright? It’s nothing for you to worry about. He’s left. It’s done.”

Opportunity gone, that was the only thing cycling through Eddie’s head at that moment. He’d missed something, let something pass him by but he didn’t know what.

Steve wouldn’t be argued with, when he didn’t want to talk about something the guy was a fortress and no amount of needling would get it out of him.

“Okay.” He almost whispered as Steve turned, walking further into the house without a backwards glance.

Eddie didn’t follow him, he couldn’t. If Steve wanted space to deal with whatever the fuck happened, he’d give him space. Though he did have half a mind to call up that guy and find out just what the fuck he had done to make Steve react like that.

Steve had never been outwardly riled up by anyone Eddie had slept with before, he'd always been polite smiles and gentle but firm demeanour unless whoever it was decided they could boss him around too.

Then the smile turned cutting and he became more firm than gentle but he never got upset.

Nearly the whole day had passed before he saw Steve again, hidden away somewhere in his giant house, which was very unusual for the both of them. When Eddie wasn’t touring or writing or doing whatever else he needed to do for work he and Steve were inseparable. They hung out constantly, Steve practically lived in Eddie’s biggest guest room during those times.

But when he did see Steve again, it was with a cold pit of dread settling in his stomach. Because Steve was dressed casual. Like he wasn't at work anymore. Like he was... like he was leaving.

“I think I need a vacation.” His tone was light, but forced. Like he was trying to convince the two of them it would just be a simple jaunty outing and everything was fine.

Right.

A vacation.

Right.

Steve wasn’t leaving forever. He was just taking a break.

Eddie could handle that.

He could.

Steve deserved it after all. He’d been running around after Eddie for so long, always so dedicated, always so…

He deserved a vacation. He really, honestly, truly did.

“How-” Eddie cleared his throat and wrapped his arms around himself. “How long will you be gone?”

Steve looked at him with something close to relief that Eddie wasn’t putting up a fight with him. Maybe, just maybe there was a thread of sadness underneath it all but it was so difficult to see.

“A couple of weeks. Maybe a month. I don’t know. I don’t think I’ll know until I get there.”

“Oh, one of those vacations, huh?” He laughed. Or attempted to. It was pathetically flat.

“Yeah. One of those.” Steve stepped forward and enveloped Eddie in a hug, warm and solid and soft and all encompassing, like he always was. “I’m… I’m gonna try to switch off, I think. So I’ll probably be out of contact for most of it.” Eddie nodded against Steve’s neck and squeezed him around the middle as tight as he could.

He wasn’t leaving forever, he was going to come back.

He was going to come back and everything would be fine and it would all work out. 

“Where-?” Eddie shook his head. Steve wanted to get away and Eddie didn’t need to know where he was going. It would be fine. Everything would be fine. “Never mind.”

“I’ve already got my replacements lined up. They’ll be here in the morning. You’ll like them. Promise.”

Eddie pulled his head back, still comfortably settled in Steve’s arms but able to see his face now.

Close enough to kiss.

Eddie wanted to kiss.

“More than one?” He said instead.

"You're a handful." Steve smiled, a familiar, easy, mean thing. “I’ve left them a list.”

“A list?” Eddie huffed, wedging his arms in between the two of them so he could cross them over his chest before burrowing his head back into Steve’s neck. “You’ve left them a list like I’m some pedigree dog.”

“You are a pedigree dog.” Steve lifted his arm and patted him on the head, like he was petting him, like a dog, the bitch.

“I’ll miss you.” It was muffled and barely audible to Eddie’s own ears but Steve still heard it.

Of course he did.

Steve’s hand gentled, sliding to cup the back of his head. “I’ll miss you too.”

A car beeped outside and Steve finally let go, stepping back out of Eddie’s space.

Steve was leaving.

Steve was leaving now and Eddie wasn't doing anything about it. Was there anything he could do to make him stay? Anything he could do that wouldn't break the two of them?

With one hand on the front door Steve turned to look back at him. “See you in a few weeks, Eds.”

Eddie had to swallow down the golf ball in his throat and try to ignore the cavernous ache in his heart that had just sprung up to be able to respond but somehow he managed. “I’ll be waiting.”

With a small smile and two light pats on the doorframe, Steve was gone.

Eddie stood there with his arms clenched tightly around himself in his big empty rockstar foyer, in his big empty rockstar house long after the car had pulled away, long after the automatic sensor of the porch light switched off, long enough to feel the ache in his knees, his hips, his back from standing so still for so long. 

He trudged upstairs still in a haze, bypassing his bedroom and heading straight into the biggest guest room of the house.

It was always kept pristine.

Eddie had worried initially that Steve had felt unwelcome here when he’d first started using the room but then he slowly came to realise that that’s just who Steve was.

Neat and tidy.

In nearly everything he did.

Eddie slid under the covers and burrowed his head in deep, deep into the pillow that smelled of hairspray and amber cologne.

He swallowed around that fucking golf ball that was only getting higher, threatening to spill over as he pulled out his phone and dialled.

“Twinkie!” Her bright voice came through despite the late hour.

“Chrissy.” Eddie gasped out her name as his sob finally broke free, shocking himself at just how harsh it was.

“Where are you? What’s wrong? Do I need to call Steve?”

He hiccupped in a breath. “No, don’t call him. He's... I’m at home-”

“Okay, I’m on my way, honey.”

She stayed on the phone the whole drive over, they didn’t talk. He just quietly wept over the line until it went dead when her footsteps could be heard coming down the hall.

Chrissy crawled under the covers next to him without a word, just pulled him into her chest and let him cry.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 AO3

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