#BUT THEN HE FOUND JIMMY AGAIN. AND JIMMY IS HOME.

[thetomorrowshow]

learning curve

empires superpowers au masterlist (not up to date)

this story takes place during chapters 10 & 11 of ‘poisoned rats’.

cw: anxiety, blood and injury

~

Scott calls out that he’s home as soon as he arrives, careful to close the door softly.

It’s been nearly a month, but it’s still weird to have another person living in his house. Particularly since that person is Solidarity.

He doesn’t get a response, but he doesn’t expect one. Solidarity is just as quiet as the day he’d arrived. Scott tries not to think about that too much.

Scott’s ashamed to admit that he doesn’t notice for a while. He goes about his afternoon, doing laundry and his post-work stretches and watching TV.

It’s not until he’s getting ready to prepare dinner that he actually approaches the closed door of the guest bedroom, knocking lightly on the door.

“Jimmy?” he calls quietly. “Would you like to help with dinner?”

No response.

Scott chews on his lip. “Okay, um. If you don’t want me to open the door, say something. I’m just coming in to make sure you’re all right.”

After another moment’s pause with no response, he eases the door open, sidles in.

Jimmy’s not there.

It isn’t hard for him to tell—there’s barely anything in the room, all the clothes put away neatly and the bed made. The spot between the bed and the wall that Jimmy likes to wedge himself into is empty as well.

Okay, no need to panic yet. Jimmy’s fairly new to using the home gym, so maybe he’s just checking out the equipment.

A glance in the gym tells him all he needs to know.

Still, it doesn’t mean he’s—he hasn’t been kidnapped. He hasn’t been kidnapped. He’s safe.

Scott heads into the kitchen, checking around for evidence that Jimmy’s been there. And once he’s looking, it isn’t hard to find.

The lunchmeat is out on the counter. The dishes cabinet is open, but there’s nothing new in the sink or the dishwasher. Scott looks around, checks the fridge, the other cabinets, the trash—

There’s something in the trash.

There’s shards of china in the trash, some of them dark with something red and wet.

The pieces fall into place.

Jimmy had broken a plate, panicked, and ran. Scott knows it with a certainty that surprises him, so he checks the shoes by the door just to make sure and immediately notices that Jimmy’s are missing.

His phone is plugged in at his bedside. His shoes are gone. There’s blood on the china in the trash and Jimmy is missing.

Scott’s tearing out the front door practically before his mask is firmly on his face.

It’s luck, more than anything, that at the end of the street he picks the right direction and within minutes can pull up to the side of the road, where a familiar figure in a grey hoodie is curled up against a lamppost.

“Jimmy!” Scott calls out the open window, trading out his mask for a beanie without even checking to see if anyone’s watching. Traffic’s bad at this time of the day, and already there are people angry about having to go around his car, but he hops out anyway and jogs around to the sidewalk.

“Jimmy,” he says again, and he doesn’t grab him by the arms but almost does— “Jimmy, are you all right?”

Jimmy flinches away, his hands curled loosely in front of him—and they’re absolutely covered in blood—

“Get in the car, okay?” Scott says, glancing around. Nobody’s paying much attention to them, they’re still in the wealthy part of the city with less folks out on the streets, but he’s pulled over on a major road so he needs to get Jimmy out. “We can disinfect this and wrap your hands up, all right? You’re not in trouble, I promise. Can you get in the car?”

Jimmy nods after a moment, allowing Scott to lead him back to the car. Scott buckles him in and shuts the passenger door, taking only a moment to rub his face. It’s okay. He found Jimmy. Everything’s going to turn out fine.

He keeps telling himself that on the silent drive home.

“Sorry,” whispers Jimmy when Scott sits him down in the bathroom, snapping open the first aid kit.

“You didn’t do anything wrong, it’s all right,” Scott says absentmindedly, unscrewing the cap of the rubbing alcohol and dousing a cotton ball with it. Jimmy sniffs, eyeing him carefully, his face streaked with tears and his hands still held gingerly in front of him.

“I’m going to clean your hands, then wrap them in gauze. Is there anywhere else you’re hurt?”

Jimmy shakes his head. Slowly, he uncurls his fingers, splaying his hands out for Scott to see.

It’s not as bad as he’d feared when he’d first seen blood streaming down his knuckles. There’s one large gash in the center of Jimmy’s right palm, and a couple of smaller ones with little slivers of china stuck in them, but all the other cuts littering his fingers and palms are tiny and shallow.

Scott disinfects first, telling Jimmy everything before he does it. He’s going to be patting it with this cotton ball first, and it might sting a bit, but it’s going to help, okay? Now that that’s done, he’s going to press a little harder to wipe away the blood. Is everything still all right? Does he need to slow down?

Forcefully, Scott’s reminded of a night from so long ago, when a heavily bleeding and injured Solidarity had collapsed on his doorstep. He’d been less gentle in his administrations, then.

It keeps Scott up at night more often than he’d like to admit. If he’d let Jimmy stay longer, would he have learned more about Xornoth’s abuse? Would he have felt motivated to track down the villain and take them out before more damage could be done? Could he have saved Jimmy so much unnecessary pain, just by being a kinder person?

“I’m going to use tweezers now, okay? There’s some splinters I think I can get out.”

Jimmy nods, and as Scott watches, his face . . . settles, in some strange way. The tears brimming at his eyes vanish, his mouth sets into a determined line.

It’s unsettling, and Scott’s not quite sure what it means, but if it helps Jimmy brave the treatment, he’s fine with it.

Jimmy’s hands flinch back a couple of times as Scott digs into the cuts with the tweezers, plucking out slivers of porcelain until he has a small, bloodstained pile of them on the corner of the sink. Once the wounds look totally de-splintered, he wipes them down again with rubbing alcohol then wraps them in gauze.

“I’m sorry,” Jimmy says again when he’s almost done. Instead of his automatic response of earlier, Scott pauses to consider that.

“What are you apologizing for?” he asks eventually, because while he’s pretty sure he knows what it is—breaking the plate—he’s not sure Jimmy understands that it’s something forgivable.

But Jimmy, surprisingly, doesn’t mention the plate. “Lying,” he says, and his face doesn’t break. His eyes don’t water. But something changes in the quality of his voice, some terrified edge to it. “I lied to you. I’m sorry.”

“What did you lie about?”

“I—I told you I could control it,” says Jimmy. “Back at—at the hospital. That my powers—I could control them. But I can’t. I—I wasn’t even touching the plate, it just—I don’t know what happened—”

Scott tapes off the end of the gauze, then sits on the side of the tub, doing his best to look into Jimmy’s eyes without forcing him. Jimmy’s biting his lip, hands shaking, looking for all the world like he’s about to bolt.

“It’s just a plate,” Scott says, trying in some way to convey the fact that he doesn’t care what Jimmy breaks, he’s not going to kick him out.

Jimmy shakes his head, quick and repetitive. “It’s just a plate today. It’s—it’s the doorknob tomorrow, and your car the day after, and then it’s your leg or—or—” he cuts himself off, swallowing thickly. “It’s—it’s nothing. Forget it.”

And before Scott can stop him, Jimmy rises on shaky legs and leaves the room, arms clutched around himself.

-

It’s times like these that Scott really misses Aeor.

He’s never taught anyone this kind of thing. He’s never even seen anyone else be taught—and his lessons in control had been far later than most might receive them.

But he decides to start with Jimmy the same way Aeor had started with him—proving that his mistakes aren’t harmful.

Scott’s hand hovers over the dishes in the cabinet. A stack of nine dinner plates, once ten. Five bowls. Eight dessert plates. Four mugs, four saucers.

He never uses half the stuff, particularly not the mugs and saucers—he’s bought his own, more casual mugs in recent years. And a quick internet search shows him that he could replace the entire set for relatively cheap, though they wouldn’t be identical.

The main issue is that these are dishes that came from Aeor. Dishes that he used.

It only takes a second for Scott to come to the conclusion that Aeor would prefer these dishes be put to use to help someone, rather than gather dust in the cabinet.

So Scott piles all of the dishes in the backyard, just beyond his little flower garden. He’s got a decent-sized backyard with a privacy fence, which he thinks will do quite nicely. If they stand on the patio, the fence isn’t too far away, yet not right in their faces. Still, a bit of protective gear is in order.

He manages to scrounge up two pairs of safety glasses and three pairs of work gloves in the garage, all of which he sets out next to the dishes on the patio. Then he turns the oven on, sets a frozen pizza to cook, and heads upstairs to find Jimmy.

Scott knocks gently on the door. “Jimmy? Can I talk to you?”

What feels like ages passes with no sound. Scott’s poised to knock again, mind racing through various possibilities—did he run again? Is he hurt?—before he hears movement inside.

It’s still another full minute before the door opens, revealing a rather miserable-looking Jimmy.

His hair is all rumpled, like he hasn’t gotten out of bed all day. His t-shirt is half tucked into his jeans, half sticking out under his hoodie. The constant shadows under his eyes have only deepened, ringing the redness that rims them. The tip of his nose is red to match, and he sniffles as he stands there, waiting for Scott to speak.

Scott clears his throat, takes a slight step back (he doesn’t want Jimmy to feel like he has no personal space). “Um, I started on dinner, but I was hoping I could have your help with something? In the backyard?”

It’s an agonizingly long moment that Jimmy takes to think it over, but eventually he bites his lip and nods, rocking back on his heels as he waits for Scott to lead the way.

Scott does so, pausing by the front door so that Jimmy can slip on his shoes, then leads him out the back.

“I don’t want you to ever feel unsafe here, all right?” Scott begins, putting on a pair of safety glasses. Jimmy stares at the glasses, the gloves, and the dishes, before cautiously taking the other pair, eyes flicking up toward Scott every so often.

“I accidentally froze something when I was seventeen, and my parents kicked me out. I always thought that was just the way it was—I had to be perfect with my powers, always, and my lack of control was . . . well, I spent a long time hating myself for those accidents.”

Scott pulls on his work gloves, still stained with dirt from the last time he tended his garden. Jimmy surveys the two remaining pairs before choosing the larger ones, biting his lip as he gingerly pulls them on over his bandaged hands.

“I didn’t figure out until—or, Aeor taught me—” Jimmy flinches at the name, but Scott carries on— “that you’re expected to make mistakes. Nobody knows how to control their powers at first. It’s a . . . it’s a learning curve, see?”

Jimmy shrugs. And that’s fine—Scott’s fairly sure it’s a quiet day. It’s just difficult to work with at the moment. He just barely restrains from pinching the bridge of his nose, remembering at the last second that he’s wearing dirty work gloves. How had Aeor ever managed this with teenage Scott?

“From what I understand,” says Scott, “you couldn’t control your powers until . . . recently. And now, you’re thinking that maybe you can’t, because you used them accidentally?”

Jimmy looks away, throat bobbing. He shrugs again.

“Right. So, first of all, this is normal. It’s sort of like—like you’re going through puberty again, okay? You’re going through the learning-to-control stage for the first time, so you’re going to mess up. It happens. I messed up so many times—I used to freeze over the floor when I was angry. I used to be terrible at control, but I just needed someone to help.”

Hopefully that part of the lesson has gotten through to Jimmy. He’s observed, in the month that Jimmy’s been here, that even on quiet days he’s listening more often than not. Scott sucks in a breath, hoping that some air will loosen the stressed knot in his chest, and picks up a bowl.

“So, mistakes are really common. And, Jimmy, I don’t really . . . understand your power, I guess, but things are going to break while you learn how to control. And I just . . . I want to make sure you know it’s okay. It’s okay to break things, okay?”

And with that, Scott chucks the bowl at the fence at the other end of the yard.

It collides with a smash, shards of porcelain flying apart at the impact. Jimmy takes a startled step back, reminding Scott wildly of a spooked horse.

He acts like he doesn’t notice, though, instead handing Jimmy a dinner plate.

Jimmy glances at him, unsure, as he takes it. Scott smiles in a way that he hopes is encouraging, points to the fence.

“Go for it. Don’t hold back.”

Jimmy’s certainly holding back when he throws the plate, but it breaks anyhow, snapping in half against the fence. Scott hears him gasp, but when he looks back at him, Jimmy’s as stoic as ever.

Scott picks up another dinner plate and tosses it, feeling an odd sort of satisfaction echo through his bones as it breaks against the fence. He hands Jimmy a bowl, and with noticeably less trepidation, Jimmy throws it at the fence.

It’s a weird bonding activity, to be sure. Not the weirdest—Scott can remember some of the bonding stuff the theatre folk he worked with in college got up to—but it definitely ranks up there as something probably socially unacceptable.

He throws the next dish even harder.

“Things are going to break,” Scott reiterates, handing Jimmy one of the mugs. “I broke things. You’ll break things. You’re not going to be in trouble for it—you’re an adult, and I plan to treat you like one, all right? And I plan to help you learn how to control it. You’re not alone in this.”

Jimmy hurls a saucer with all his strength, and Scott thinks he sees a shadow of a smile when it shatters against the fence. He does it again with a dinner plate, then steps back, allowing Scott to throw a few more.

When it comes down to the last dish—a dinner plate—Scott hands it to Jimmy, gestures for him to take a good stance. Jimmy doesn’t hesitate; he sends the plate flying into the fence, and this time he definitely smiles a bit when it breaks.

“Jimmy,” Scott says seriously when the man, panting a little bit, turns back to him. “I want you to know—there is nothing in this house that you can break that will make me stop caring about you. As your conservator—and more importantly, as your friend, I place your health and happiness above anything that I own. I want you to remember that, okay?”

Jimmy nods, and Scott’s struck by the sudden, overwhelming urge to hug him. He doesn’t, of course—Jimmy doesn’t really do well with touch, and that’s fine by Scott. He really, really wants to, though.

Instead, he tugs off his gloves and jerks his head in the direction of the backdoor. “I put a pizza in the oven, it should be done soon. Want to find something on Netflix and just hang out for the rest of the night?”

Of course, Jimmy doesn’t say anything. But he offers a small smile, shakes off his gloves, and places his safety glasses on the patio table. Then he steps around Scott and heads inside.

That night, they eat pizza on paper plates while watching an episode of a new suspense show. When the drama peaks, the light in the living room fizzles and goes out—and while Jimmy flinches hard and hides his face, Scott reassures him that it’s fine until he reemerges, forcing out a raspy apology, but agreeing to finish the episode.

It’s not perfect, but it’s progress. And somehow, Scott feels almost proud—and he thinks, really, Aeor would be as well.

[carry-on-my-wayward-gays]

"I've misplaced my horn." "No it's ok!"

"No one's going to set fire to this, we're all fine." "No no, that's definitely not happening."

"You haven't been angry since, right?" "No there's no rage just beautiful memories of happiness here."

"The way I look at it, that is my work, this is my homestead. This is where I rest my head." "I like that a lot."

"I thought you were going to be like "I'm out of here"." "No no I can't pass up Rancher love!"

JIMMY NOT GETTING MAD AT TANGO WHEN HE FINDS OUT TANGO IS STAYING AT GOBLAND.

JIMMY TRYING TO COME UP W A COMPROMISE SO THAT TANGO CAN STILL STAY IN TUMBLE TOWN BUT TANGO SHUTTING THAT DOWN BY SAYING HE KEEPS HIS WORK AND HOME SEPARATE.

JIMMY CALLING TANGO "RANCHER" AS HE LEAVES.

JIMMY TELLING TANGO TO MAKE HIMSELF AT HOME AND TANGO IS SAYING THIS ALREADY IS HOME.

THEM.

[fazcinatingblog]

Wait since when does James wear a glove

[vivwritesfics]

How are you:)

A date at a Cate Cafe with Max and then going back to his place and his cats get jealous:>

-🐎

Hello my dear!! A short one I apologise

Max had never been to a cat cafe before. She nearly couldn't believe it that he, a massive cat lover, hadn't yet been to a cat café.

It was criminal.

Let it be known that Max both loved and hated the idea of a cat cafe. He didn't understand how that many cats in that small a space could be happy. Plus, cats jumping on tables while they're trying to eat?

But then Max experienced it. The moment a cat rolled over in front of his feet he was crouching down, stroking them. He sat down opposite her, letting out an excited giggle whenever a cat brushed past his legs.

Max found out it was a charity, that all of the money donated went towards the cats. So, after their wonderful little afternoon tea, Max wrote out a phat cheque.

Throughout the afternoon tea, Max couldn't stop comparing the cats around him to Jimmy and Sassy. He missed them while they were there, that much was clear.

So, she and Max headed home.

"Jim! Sass!" He called as he let them into the apartment. But, in typical kitty cat fashion, they ignored him.

It was an endearing sight, seeing Max search for his cats. The moment he found one (Sassy, but she couldn't tell the difference), he scooped it into his arms and kissed it all over.

"I missed you," he said again and again as Sassy tried to get away.

[sainzproductions]

𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐝𝐨 ⋆ 𝐜. 𝐬𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐳

THE OTHER WOMAN / SEQUEL !

where you acclimate to the current dating scene after eight years of being with carlos...

liked by lewishamilton, charles_leclerc and others

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↶*ೃ✧˚. ❃ ↷ ˊ-

You felt like you had done a good job all by yourself. You took your sweet time getting used to being alone again, having spent the better part of the past decade accompanying carlos and living together with him.

As embarassing as it was to admit, there were days where you'd wake up abruptly as if hearing his footsteps, or the faint rumble of his voice lulling you to sleep. There were moments where you'd break down crying upon seeing an article of clothing belonging to carlos, or seeing pictures when you were still happily together.

It wasn't easy to forget an eight year relationship. You soon realized. He was all you've ever known and adored... You dreamt a life with the guy for crying out out loud!

You wanted all the permanent things, the domestic future, him.

But the reality was that you were different people who wanted starkly different things in life. Carlos was set on his career while you had the burden of being a woman. You didn't have forever to waste away, and you didn't want to spend it waiting for a future that could never be in the stars for you and him.

You had accepted it. It wasn't all tears, and tearful reminiscing anyways. Your life had picked up after a couple of weeks. It was a lie. You spent a month and a half being pathetic. But who was counting?

You were having the time of your life. Your singleness provided a way for you to realize new and old hobbies.

You finally went back to your hometown, despite your fears of facing your parents' knowing looks and getting an ill timed i told you so's from their ever skeptic way of seeing life. Especially your relationship with Carlos..

But your mother took one look at you; in your deshieveled and devastated form, wordlessly opening her arms and craddling your pathetic self as you wept about your broken heart.

You found peace in the tranquility of your childhood home. Reacquainting yourself with your horse, champion whom you had been neglecting— you realize belatedly. The help couldn't take the horses out that much, where you formerly took the stallion out for most of the day. You made sure to make up for lost time however.

You were also able to rekindle old friendships, quickly becoming fast friends once again as if no time had passed at all. You traipsed all over Madrid, enjoying the thrill of meeting new people, of learning new things... And how forward the current dating scene seemed to be in regards to matters concerning...

"Wait, wait." You press a hand towards his broad chest, breathing roughly. Your chest rose and fell with excitement as you tried to come down from how fast the things had quickly become heated between the two of you. "We're going a bit too fast, don't you think?" You whine under your breath, as his face came down to press open mouthed kisses on your neck, easily finding your most sensitive spot as he expertly manouvers your body, backing you up against the wall.

"Relax. We won't do anything you don't want." He says, softening his tone, "I'm not a hooligan." He tuts, pressing a feather like kiss on the side of your lips.

"Says the man who pulled me into a dark room to play tonsil tennis." You retort amusedly, stroking your fingers on his neck. You couldn't help but close your eyes at the sensation of his lips against your skin, his fingers making quick work of slipping under your skirt, and you hissed from the sensation of his cold rings against your thighs, "You're cold!"

"Warm me up then, love." He was evidently amused by your reactions and the way your cheeks flushed at his crude remark. He wiped away every other thought from your mind, as he kisses you wantonly. He made sure to hold your gaze as he pulls away, sinking down to his knees... and kissing your thighs softly. "Beautiful. So fucking beautiful. I couldn't think of anything else when you walked into the room. Nobody else mattered but you... you're bad for my business, darling."

You could hardly register anything else after that

↶*ೃ✧˚. ❃ ↷ ˊ-

The breakup came with the long forgotten territory of male attention. Sure, there were some bold and uncaring lads few and far between, but Carlos had quickly shut down every attempt with a swift glare and a possesive hand over you. You didn't mind. You only needed him and his attention and everyone else were merely annoying backnoise.

As it is, your breakup was made public through the urging of Carlos' management and his public relations team. You cooperated seamlessly despite being civil, to the point of rudeness, to their every demand.

How ironic was it that through his blatant act of wanting to separate himself from you and everything else that had to do with you; he made a declaration to the world that you were readily available.

Your dms were sure packed to the brim when you'd later had the energy to do anything asides from the basic tasks of taking care of yourself. You couldn't laugh nor cry upon seeing several of carlos' work acquaintances making their presence known in your dms. You even saw his former (and possibly current) teammates taking their shot.

You couldn't help but wonder for how long has he been... Non committal towards his best mates about your real score. They couldn't possibly muster up the courage had it been the true duration of your separation. Men aren't that proactive. They atleast had some base sense of loyalty.

Then again, it didn't take very long for him to be spotted with some model on his arm. He looked happy, invigorated... Annoyingly handsome. Fuck him and his perfect face. You wished you atleast threw a heel at him for being a dickwad.

Were you seeing other people out of spite or trying to prove yourself to him? You wouldn't exactly say so. You'd had an agreement with the well established, and good looking gentleman who had made you tremble and writhe under his tongue. He was incredibly lax and cool, and great company in every sense of the word. He made you laugh, he also made you cry just now.

And so while you made yourselves look presentable, you were first out the door while he waited a few minutes to make his entrance into the party again. You gratefully took a flute of champagne from a passing waiter, wetting your parched throat as you looked around as normally as you could. Blending in with the fancy people in their cocktail dresses and designers.

You heard footsteps approaching after a few moments. Another man spotted him, and he grinned in recognition upon the sight of the ever famous....

"Sir Hamilton!"

[ssnowflowers]

Grian's alliance with Cleo and Etho is so interesting to me. Because it's so different from every other alliance he's made.

The first alliance made in the Life Series for Grian is the Blue Sword Boys. And it's simply for a diamond sword. This sets an expectation that Grian needs to be useful for an alliance to be worth it.

His alliance to Scar, his desert friend, is built on him selling his life to Scar. An entire life, one of three deaths he gets before never being able to walk the world again. He gives it all to Scar. Because lives are valuable, useful. Servants are useful.

In Last Life, the Southlands are brought together through resources. You go red, there are no gifted lives bringing you back from the brink like in other alliances. You just go. Grian is forced out of the Southlands first, the home he built no longer his. Because by dying, he has proven he isn't useful.

His alliance with Joel is built on the fact that they are both red. That they need one another to survive. That reds live and die alone. They are loyal, because loyalty is useful. And their alliance ends when they stop being red. And it resumes once they are again.

In Double Life, Grian doesn't want to pair with Scar. He quite literally lets out a guttural scream of no. But it's easier to stick around his soulmate. Build Scar a base, babysit him. It's far more useful.

After a certain point, Grian stops viewing alliances as someone loyal. Someone who has your back. Simply, that it is necessary to have friends.

It's useful to have allies, so he jumps at the first opportunity. In Limited Life, he joins Joel and Jimmy because they invite him. He changes his skin, something he has never done before. He engages with bread bridge, he changes things about himself to look useful.

And then in the final sessions, when he loses Jimmy and Joel, he moves along quickly. He even says that Joel is a 'lost cause' and teams up with Pearl and BigB instead.

His wording is so specific too. Not allies, not teammates...friends. This is how he views friendship. A mutual exchange of usefulness.

It's why he's so desperate to make friends in Secret Life. He begs and pleads with people, when he is forced together with Joel he sticks with him like a clingy child, he builds the egg not because he likes it, but because a pretty base can attract friends.

When he asks if he can join Etho and Cleo. They just say yes. No second thoughts. And Grian is still trying to sell himself, prove why they should want him around. And Cleo just has on screen text (aka, inner thoughts) questioning why Grian is still trying to convince them? They've already said yes!

He's so stuck in the mindset of seeming useful, that he's now doing it even when no one is looking for him to be useful.

This is what sets his alliance with them apart from anyone else. He does not have to stick around, or cling to them. He can disappear for most of the session, and be fine.

Cleo and Etho help him out and he helps them in return. Not because he needs to be useful. But because he wants to. Because he has finally found people who just want him around because it's him.

It's such a large shift in his previous alliances, that I can't help but appreciate every little interaction. Because Cleo and Etho are his friends first. Not just allies.

[aquaquadrant]

from eden, part X

Word count: 10,825 Warnings: Language, violence, blood/injury, victim blaming, self-deprecation, fictional racism, discussion of past abuse, temporary death  Summary: After an unwise decision, Tango and Jimmy find themselves in Hels, at odds, and up against an old foe seeking revenge. But as everything comes to a boil, Tango realizes he must finally confront his past if he has any hope of saving his future.

A/N: Hey y’all, thanks so much for ur patience. Didn’t mean for this to take so long, I’ve been dealing w some health issues, but I’m doing way better now and on break from school so here we are. I hope u enjoy, please reblog/comment if u do! - Aqua

~*~

from eden, part X - no ‘who cares,’ no vacant stares, no time for me 

~*~

Somewhere in Hels, a player stares at his soulmate in shock.

Tango could’ve sworn Jimmy was asleep. He checked, he checked multiple times to make sure Jimmy was well and truly unconscious before slipping out of bed. And he’d been so careful about it, moving so slowly and quietly to ensure Jimmy wasn’t woken up. All he’d needed was for Jimmy to keep sleeping for not even five minutes- just long enough for Tango to sneak downstairs, grab the supplies he’d secretly prepared earlier, go through the portal, and break it from the other side.

Yet here they are.

The abrupt silence after their mutual outburst is blanching. There’s almost a static feeling to it, like electricity gathering in the air before a lightning strike. All of Tango’s previous thoughts have flown clean out of his brain. He can only stare at Jimmy, forehead stinging, mouth slightly parted as he struggles to make sense of what he’s seeing.

Jimmy looks similarly disoriented. He sits in a heap in front of the portal, bathed in the green-yellow-red light, his wings splayed out around him. His nose is scrunched up- still wincing from the pain of Tango’s forehead smacking into his chin, most likely. The recently-obtained scar across the newly-formed bump on the bridge of his nose stands out in sharp contrast against his other, more familiar, features. He said it didn’t bother him, but Tango feels a stab of guilt every time he looks at it. Even now, it’s a reminder of the pain Tango’s brought him. Of how Tango’s failed him.

Jimmy recovers first.

“What am I- what are you doin’ here?!” he cries, rising to his feet. 

Realization dawns on Tango as he finally grasps the reality of this impossible scenario he’s found himself in.

Jimmy’s here. In Hels. Jimmy is in Hels. Jimmy is in Hels. Oh. Oh no, oh that’s the opposite of what Tango wants. This is bad. This is really, really bad. This is a whole heap of bad with extra badness on top. Jimmy can’t be in Hels, he should never be in Hels.

“Tango,” Jimmy presses, taking a step forward, “are you listenin’ to me?”

Tango jumps to his feet, heart pounding. He quickly scans their surroundings- still no players to be seen, though some of those magma cubes in the distance are getting close. He knows they’re on borrowed time; there’s at least two players in this world who are bound to notice his arrival in chat, and the clock’s ticking.

“Tango?” Jimmy says again, uncertainty leaking into his voice. “You alright?”

Adrenaline floods Tango’s body. He feels hyper aware, like all his senses are in overdrive- his skin is prickling with heat, and if it weren’t for the wither rose collar, he’s certain his blaze rods would be swirling around in a defensive inferno.

He needs to get Jimmy out of here.

Despite their difference in height, Tango’s strong enough that he could probably push Jimmy back into the portal. He’d have the element of surprise, initially. But Jimmy’s build isn’t just for show- Tango would have a hard time keeping him in the portal for the few crucial seconds required to teleport. He might even get teleported back, himself. 

So instead of attempting brute force, Tango stalks forward- though not close enough to be grabbed- flattens his ears, bares his teeth, and hisses.

“Go home,” Tango hisses lowly. “Right. Now.”

That seems to take Jimmy aback. He raises his eyebrows, incredulous. “Ex-cuse me?” he demands, putting his hands on his hips. “Now, hang on-”

“You shouldn’t be here!” Tango interrupts, his voice catching somewhere between anger and desperation. “This is-”

“You shouldn’t be here! What-”

“You’re not safe here-”

“- tryin’ to- well, neither are you!”

“- and you need to go back!”

“I’m not goin’ back without you!” Jimmy gives up on trying to keep his voice down, wings flaring out in agitation. “I thought we were in this together! I- god, Tango, we want to help you, we all just wanna help-”

“It’s not your problem!” Tango snaps, his temper rising. “Alright? It was my mistake that brought Bravo and Hels Tek to our door, you- why should you have to deal with it? What, just ‘cause we got randomly assigned to be soulmates? You didn’t sign up for all this!”

Jimmy’s expression darkens. “Yes, I did, that’s what it means to be a partner.” He reaches for Tango’s arm. “Tango, I love you-”

“I know!” Tango jerks away. “I know that, okay? But you- did it ever occur to you that maybe I love you, too? Maybe I don’t want you to put yourself at risk fighting my battles for me? Because I love you?” He rakes his claws through his hair, a mirthless laugh escaping him. “Is that- did that happen to cross your mind? That maybe for once I- I did something ‘cause I love you and not ‘cause I hate myself? Maybe I could do the selfless act of love every now and then? I mean, is that- is that so hard to believe?”

Jimmy stares at him for a moment, brown eyes blown wide. Even in the absence of their soulbond, Tango can tell he’s hurt. 

“That’s not what I meant,” Jimmy says finally, voice quiet. “I know you love me. Of course I know you love me. But Tango, honestly- can you honestly tell me that this decision wasn’t- that- that it had absolutely nothing to do with feelin’ like you deserve to be here?” he asks desperately. “No influence on your decision at all? Not a- a single part of you that thinks it’d be okay if you got trapped here again, suffering forever? Not even the slightest bit?”

Shit.

Tango sets his jaw. “That doesn’t matter.”

“Doesn’t matter?” Jimmy repeats, disbelieving. “Of course it does-”

“No, I don’t- you need to leave!”

“I’m not leavin’ you, I mean it!”

“I already told you, I don’t want-”

“Tango, please.” Jimmy holds out his hand. He looks close to tears. “Let’s go home. We’ll figure this out, alright?”

Tango swallows back a frustrated whine; he doesn’t have time for this. Atlas has no doubt already noticed his arrival, and he still needs to find Bravo. And the longer they stand here loudly arguing in front of an active portal, the greater the risk of discovery. It’s already a miraculous stroke of luck that the portal spawned in an uninhabited area.

Jimmy can’t force Tango back through the portal any more than Tango can force him. Besides, starting a physical fight with Jimmy would probably be his breaking point. This is hard enough already. He spends a precious second to take in Jimmy’s face; the thin line his mouth has pressed into, the tears brimming in his eyes, the scar across his crooked nose.

Then Tango turns on his heel and sprints away.

It’s a last-ditch effort kind of gambit. He’s hoping that if he loses Jimmy in the basalt delta, Jimmy won’t know what else to do but go back through the portal for help. And once he does, Tango can swoop in and break it. Problem solved.

There’s a surprised shout behind him. Wing beats fill the air as Jimmy takes flight. But Tango’s head start has already allowed him to reach the first outcropping of basalt, pock-marked with pools of lava. Without breaking stride, he leaps up onto the ledge of stone-

Only for his foot to catch on a tripwire.

Pistons go off while he’s still mid-jump. The ground opens up into a black pit beneath him. His claws scrape uselessly against the lip of basalt and suddenly he’s falling, stomach lurching, too shocked to even call out as wind whistles by his ears and he plummets into the darkness below, Jimmy’s voice screaming after him.

“Tango!”

Traps. He forgot to look for traps.

Weightless, Tango struggles to right himself. The hole is pitch black and it’s disorienting, wavering light from his dim blaze rods flickering against the walls. His mind races frantically. Even if he could pull a block from his inventory and place it down under him- and he’s not sure that he could, at the speed he’s falling- the damage would kill him anyways. No, better to see how this ends. If he’s dumb enough to fall for a trap, he should at least give it the satisfaction of killing him as intended.

Although, Tango’s been falling for more than a couple seconds and he hasn’t hit anything yet. That’s unusual. Few trappers care to dig holes this deep when a shallow pit of lava will have the same result. Maybe death isn’t the goal here. Maybe-

Light, somewhere down below. As it gets closer, Tango thinks he can see the walls of the hole open up into a larger room. But the bottom still goes down- into a pit of cobwebs. So that’s it. The trap was designed to capture players, not kill them. But why-

“Tango!”

Jimmy’s voice echoes wildly in the tunnel. Tango glances back over his shoulder to see Jimmy diving towards him, arms stretched forward and wings flattened, body straight as an arrow. 

Tango doesn’t currently have the breath to call out to him. If he did, it’d probably be something along the lines of, ‘No no no no no, why did you follow me, you idiot!’ and that wouldn’t be very constructive.

Jimmy hooks his arms underneath Tango’s, snaps his wings out, and takes them sailing out through the gap in the tunnel.

The abrupt swerve makes Tango’s stomach drop. Jimmy barely manages to avoid taking them directly into a wall, wings flaring, wind whipping around them. They tumble into an ungraceful- but not deadly- landing, tangled up in a pile of limbs.

The room they’ve flown into is large but rather crude, carved out of the netherrack and deepslate that make up the deepest levels of Hels- more of a cavern, really. A few scattered torches along the walls provide the room’s only lighting, and they’ve landed among a collection of haphazardly-placed chests- a chest monster to rival Scar’s. The center of the room is occupied by the hole at the bottom of the dropchute. Beyond it is something that makes Tango’s blood run cold.

Half of the room is covered in elaborate redstone circuitry, feeding into an empty portal frame. It’s an eerily similar setup to their own portal, and Tango is at once certain he knows who this base belongs to.

He processes this all in the couple seconds it takes him to get on his feet. Jimmy’s still crumpled beside him, uninjured but disoriented. Shit. He hadn’t planned to have Jimmy with him for this confrontation and it has him on edge, his skin crawling. The room’s empty right now, but he can’t see another way out except back up through the dropchute- it’s a precarious place to be in. He doesn’t like what being backed into a corner does to him.

“Ugh,” Jimmy groans softly, pushing himself upright. “Not one’a my better landin’s…”

“Shh,” Tango hisses.

Jimmy frowns at him, rising to his feet. “Tango, can you just-”

“Quiet!” Tango urges, gaze flicking around the room. Their sudden presence doesn’t seem to have set off any alarms, but there’s no telling what the trap was hooked up to-

Ca-clunk.

Tango’s ears prick at the sound of more pistons. He whirls around, hackles rising, to see part of the adjacent wall open up.

“Well,” Bravo says, stepping into the room, “isn’t this convenient?”

Tango had been mentally preparing himself to see his doppelgänger again, but he’s still taken aback at the state Bravo’s in. His hair and clothes are wild and unkempt, the stains on his shirt indistinguishable between redstone and blood. There’s a weariness about him, like he hasn’t slept in days, yet every muscle in his body is tense, his bruised knuckles gripping a netherite sword. Most striking, however, is his face; his green eyes are so bloodshot they’re almost red, and heavily lined with dark circles that- in a bizarre way- resemble wither stains.

So for a moment, it’s like Tango’s looking in a mirror.

It passes quickly. Tango forces the tension from his body, holding up his hands. “Take it easy, alright, I just wanna talk.”

“I?” Bravo tilts his head to the side, taking another step forward as the wall closes up behind him. “Uh, it looks like- looks to me like there’s two of you, pal.” His gaze cuts over to Jimmy, and his mouth quirks into a grin- hard and humorless. “Good to see ya, Jimmy.”

Tango bristles. “Leave him out of this,” he says lowly, stepping in front of Jimmy. “He wasn’t supposed to come.”

Jimmy makes a noise of protest. “Hang on-”

“Ohh, oh okay,” Bravo says, nodding slowly, “I- I see what this is. This is- hah, wow, this is kinda perfect.” He begins to pace in front of them, idly twirling his sword in his hand; there’s an unsettling air about him. “Lemme guess, you uh- you intended to come here alone, but your soulmate had other ideas?”

He spits the word like an insult. Tango feels his lip curl. “None of your business.” 

“Oh? It’s not?” Bravo barks out a laugh- a sharp contrast to the enraged look in his eyes. “Well, you’re in my fucking house, so, you know. Forgive my curiosity.”

Anger flares inside Tango; he pushes it down. “Look, I know we didn’t exactly get off on the right foot-”

“You fucking think?”

“Enough!” Jimmy shouts, wings flaring as he throws an arm out in front of Tango. “Bravo, listen to me. I don’t like you, alright, but we aren’t here to fight.”

“Obviously.” Bravo actually rolls his eyes. “I can- I can piece it together well enough, okay. You figured that you could come rescue me from Hels, and then I- everything will be peachy-keen, right? I mean, if- if you wanted me to stay here, you wouldn’t have opened a portal. Except this one,” he stops his pacing, leveling his sword at Tango, “got it in his thick head that it was somethin’ he needed ‘to do alone.’ So he snuck off by himself, on a solo mission of noble, stupid self-sacrifice, in the hopes that it’d make up for what he did-”

“Shut up,” Tango growls.

“- and that it’d keep you safe. Right?” Bravo’s voice drips with malice. “Except poor Jimmy’s too good to let you take the fall alone so he followed you here, right into my trap.”

“So what?” Tango demands with a bravado he doesn’t feel. Truthfully, Bravo’s words have opened a pit in his stomach; he hates that Bravo has seen through him so clearly. “What, I mean- you want a trophy for figuring it out? And- and why set a trap for us if your plan was clearly to get out through a portal of your own?”

Bravo scowls. “That trap wasn’t for you, actually. It’s for the damn mercenaries that’ve been comin’ after us since I split from Hels Tek.”

Jimmy frowns. “Us?”

Bravo’s face twitches. “Wh- me. Whatever.”

“You split from Hels Tek?” Tango asks, furrowing his brows. He knew Atlas and Bravo had fought back on Double Life, but he wasn’t sure if that’d be enough to make Bravo willingly take on Hels by himself.

Bravo snorts. “Yeah, I- I uh, I don’t take kindly to bein’ stabbed in the back, but Atlas still wanted a portal and wasn’t gonna take no for an answer, so.”

Tango would laugh at the irony, if he didn’t feel so sick to his stomach. “Wow,” he drawls, still unable to keep the sarcasm out of his voice, “so it turned out Atlas only cared about you as far as he could exploit you? Imagine that.” 

Clearly, he’s touched a nerve. “Shut up,” Bravo snaps.

“Watch it,” Jimmy snaps back. 

Unbothered, Tango glances around the cavern. “So wait, you- it’s only been like, what, a- a couple weeks since you respawned here, how- where did you get all these supplies?”

“Eh, found a new sponsor.” Bravo shrugs. “You know, I was probably only a few more days away from gettin’ my portal up and running ‘til you guys showed up. But it worked out nice this way, right?” There’s a manic light in his eyes. “I- I was gonna get my vengeance on you once I got back to the overworld, but instead, we can do it right now.”

That’s all the warning he gives before he attacks.

He’s fast, faster than Tango’s expecting. It’s all he can do to shove Jimmy out of the way, diving into a roll that brings him quickly back to his feet. He only brought one sword; he pulls it from his inventory and throws it to Jimmy without a second thought, because he doubts Jimmy prepared at all before coming through the portal and swords have always felt clumsy in his hands. There’s a reason traditional PVP has never been his strong suit.

The sword has barely left his grasp before Bravo’s springing at him again.

Screech!

Tango brings his claws up in time to catch Bravo’s blade between them. The force of the blow shudders through his arms. Bravo’s strong, too- stronger than Tango would think for a non-hybrid version of himself.

“Stop it!” Tango huffs. “We don’t wanna fight you!”

“Too bad!” Bravo sneers.

Well, if that’s what he wants. Tango ducks under the sword and brings a hand up to slash at Bravo’s face. Bravo disengages, darting backwards, out of reach- he readjusts his grip for another swing.

“Hey, lay off!”

Jimmy charges into the fray; Bravo pivots mid-swing to block Jimmy’s blade, the clang of metal reverberating through the cavern. He leans into the movement, bringing his leg up to deliver a swift kick to Jimmy’s side.

With a pained grunt, Jimmy stumbles, off-balance. Bravo raises his sword to slash again- but Tango rushes him, forcing him back. Claws swipe through empty air.

“Gotta do better than that,” Bravo tuts, flicking his sword out to nick Tango’s cheek.

The sharp pain and sudden scent of blood is disorienting. Tango lunges forward almost blindly, a snarl catching in the back of his throat. Rage bubbles inside him, and he can feel his fire trying to respond- but with the wither rose in his system, it’s like throwing a match into a well.

Bravo deftly steps around him. “There’s that famous Tango temper again!” he taunts. “Go on, show us exactly how much of a monster you are.” 

The words sober Tango instantly. He swallows back his rage; the last thing he wants to do is lose control like he did back at the ranch, especially when Jimmy could get hurt. His fire may be dampened, but that doesn’t mean he’s not dangerous.

Then his ears twitch at a furious shout- Jimmy surges into the air, wings beating, and swoops down at Bravo. “Don’t you dare call him that!”

In the same moment, Tango moves to block Bravo’s escape route, aiming for his hands in an attempt to disarm him.

But Bravo’s ready for them both. 

He ducks beneath Tango’s claws and side-steps Jimmy’s attack, jabbing the pommel of his sword into Tango’s gut as a parting blow. Wings flailing, Jimmy pulls up short to avoid slamming into Tango- and yelps as Bravo’s sword cleaves a handful of feathers into the air.

“Come on!” Bravo goads them. “That the best you can do?”

Tango hadn’t gotten much of a chance to actually observe Bravo fight during the Hels Tek invasion, and he’s sorely regretting it now. It’s clear Bravo’s got more experience with PVP than either of them. And not the type of casual sparring between friends, but genuine life-or-death fighting- fast, messy, and brutal. Even being two against one isn’t helping them much; Bravo keeps on the move, twisting through and around them with a practiced ease that leaves them struggling not to accidentally hit each other.

A detached part of Tango’s mind runs through their options. Being killed and ending up at the world spawn would be the worst-case scenario; they’d basically be gift-wrapped for Atlas to come snatch up. But he doesn’t think joining through a hacked portal would reset their spawns; after all, the Hels Tek invaders wound up back in Hels after they were killed. Of course, he’d rather not find out for certain. And if he ends up respawning back to Double Life, his entire goal in coming here alone goes up in smoke. He won’t get another chance at this- the other Double Lifers will insist on putting themselves in danger to help him, ‘cause they’re annoyingly kind like that, and everything will turn into a big flaming ball of disaster.

So it’s really in his best interest not to get killed right now.

Except, he can’t help but notice that Bravo actually doesn’t seem to be trying to kill them. Most of what he’s aiming for are non-vital structures- arms, legs, Jimmy’s wings. When he does land an attack above the belt, it almost seems like he’s holding back, leaving only shallow gashes or a blunt hit with a skillfully thrown fist, knee, or elbow.

And despite clearly being the superior fighter, he’s mainly staying on the defensive. He isn’t taking nearly as many swings as he could. It’s an endurance game, Tango realizes- he’s trying to tire them out. But why? He’s on his own, it’s not like he’s stalling for reinforcements. There’s nowhere for them to go. That is, nowhere except-

Tango’s gaze falls on the pit at the bottom of the dropchute.

Oh. Oh, that’s-

Wham!

Pain explodes through Tango’s skull.

Bravo’s taken advantage of Tango’s brief lapse in concentration, landing a solid punch on the side of his face. It’s enough to make him black out for a moment, every thought in his brain screeching to a halt. When he comes back to himself, his cheek is pressed against the floor, made warm and sticky with his pooling blood. There’s a faint ringing in his ears- above it, he can barely make out the sound of swords clashing somewhere in front of him.

Tango manages to lift his head, blinking spots from his vision.

Bravo is driving Jimmy back- back towards the center of the room where the pit is. Tango opens his mouth to scream a warning, but he’s too late. As they near the edge of the pit, Bravo suddenly steps under Jimmy’s guard, hooking a leg behind Jimmy’s foot as one hand comes up to twist his sword out of his grip. Bravo’s other arm slams against Jimmy’s chest, knocking him off-balance.

Jimmy falls backwards with a shout, into the pit of cobwebs. He doesn’t fall very deep, of course- that’s not how cobwebs work. But he is immediately stuck, wings and limbs straining as he slowly begins to sink.

“Jimmy!” Tango cries, his heart jolting. 

Oh, this is bad. Getting out of cobwebs without a sword, while slowly falling through them, will be almost impossible. Especially since Jimmy’s feathers are particularly prone to sticking to that stuff and every movement will cause him pain as he pulls on them.

“There.” Satisfied, Bravo stows Jimmy’s sword in his inventory before turning back to Tango. “Now we can finally finish this.”

“No!” Jimmy pleads desperately from the pit, already disappearing from view. “Leave ‘em alone!”

“Oh, don’t worry, I’m not gonna kill him,” Bravo tuts as he approaches Tango. “That- I mean, that’d just send you back home, right? Hacked portals don’t do the whole spawn reset-ification thing, as it turns out.” He shakes his head. “No, I- what I’m gonna do is arrange a little meeting with our old buddy Atlas to come pick you up, okay, and- and then I’ll finally get him off my back and be able to leave this fucking place for good.”

Terror shoots through Tango. If Atlas comes here, with Jimmy trapped like this…

Head pounding, Tango struggles to get to his feet. “Y- you don’t have to do this,” he says weakly. “I know I messed up, a- and I’m sorry, okay? But Jimmy had nothin’ to do with it, he- you have to let him go, please.”

Bravo’s lip curls. “I’m not gonna let Atlas get him. Believe it or not, I meant it when I said I wouldn’t let another overworlder get trapped here.”

Despite the severity of the situation, the offended disdain in his tone makes Tango snort. “Oh, sorry, uh- excuse me for thinkin’ you’d ever do such a terrible thing,” he rasps. “I- I mean, you can’t blame me, right? You- it’s not like you’ve made a great impression.”

Bravo’s eyes darken with anger, and then his fist is in Tango’s stomach. The punch makes Tango double over, gasping for breath- then a well-placed kick throws him back against the wall, pain crashing through his ribs.

“What’re you doin’?!” Jimmy’s panicked voice sounds from the pit- he’s sunken far enough down that he can’t see them anymore. “Don’t hurt him!”

Bravo ignores him, stalking forward to grab Tango by the front of his shirt. “You’re one to talk, you piece of shit,” he hisses in Tango’s face, reeling back for another hit.

Crack.

This one lands the hilt of his sword against Tango’s jaw. Bravo drops him to the ground in a crumpled heap.

“Tango!” Jimmy’s scream sounds far away.

Everything is pain. With no small amount of effort, Tango pushes himself upright, breathing raggedly through his nose. He can feel blood trickling down his chin from his split lip, can taste it stained against his teeth. His head aches. His body is shaking. There’s a cold pit of dread in his stomach, and he knows that he’s lost this fight.

But more than that, deep down, there’s the realization that maybe… he always expected to.

(It’s not like coming here without Jimmy would’ve changed the outcome. No matter what Tango said or did, Bravo was always going to react this way- why would Tango think anything different? Despite his intention to extend the olive branch, he knows Bravo wouldn’t have been satisfied to just let bygones be bygones.

Truthfully, Tango had been prepared for this the moment he saw that red light fill their portal. Bravo had nailed it right at the start; this was always going to be a mission of self-sacrifice. If giving himself up meant placating Bravo and Hels Tek, if it meant that the people he cared about would be safe, then Tango had been willing to accept it. Even if it meant going back to the farm for the rest of his life.

He’s already had ten years in the sun. That’s more than anyone else in Hels got.)

Bravo looms over him, a mad, triumphant grin spreading across his face. “You’re gonna spend the rest of your days in that farm where you belong,” he says lowly, “and out of the life you stole from me. You’re nothin’ but an evil monster, and it’s what you deserve.”

A strange feeling settles over Tango.

It’s like déjà vu, to sit here and listen to his doppelgänger repeat all the horrible things Tango’s believed about himself almost his entire life, all the things he’s told himself in the mirror time and time again. It’s his words spoken in his voice out of an eerily similar face, as if all his deepest insecurities have taken form.

It’s achingly, hauntingly familiar. Like a knife tracing over old scars.

And yet, there’s something odd about hearing it from another person. To hear such hatred and conviction in that voice, to see it so plainly in his eyes. Tango’s well aware that there are plenty of players who feel the same way- not just about him, but other hostile mob hybrids, too. He’s no stranger to prejudice; he’s noticed the wary looks and distrustful glares he’s gotten on public multiplayer worlds before.

Hell, Atlas is attempting to build an empire on the very concept of oppressing hybrids, and he’s had plenty of help to do it. Not just his fellow redstone scientists, but sponsors and buyers, too. Lots of players have reason to want Tango in a farm, to exploit and degrade him. But only because they would profit from it- otherwise they wouldn’t bother wasting so much time and energy on him. Sure, Atlas probably hates him to some degree, and is indifferent at best to all the pain he’s been caused. But Tango’s also certain that if he weren’t useful, then Atlas wouldn’t give him a second thought. If he couldn’t be farmed, Atlas would never have come after him in the first place. It’s all about ambition with Atlas; he wouldn’t waste time on petty revenge schemes.

Bravo, on the other hand, stands to gain absolutely nothing from this except the satisfaction of knowing Tango is suffering. How strange, that the only player to ever really demonstrate that desire isn’t even from Hels.

And with that thought, everything falls into place.

Tango wheezes out a laugh, though he immediately regrets it- fuck, his ribs. “So that’s where I get my sadism from! Good to know, good to know.”

The smirk drops off Bravo’s face. “What the fuck are you talkin’ about?”

Tango wipes the blood from his face. “I mean, I- we- we’ve established that I’m just a uh, a physical manifestation of all the evil parts of you, yeah? That’s what Hels are? Well, if that’s true, then every bad thing about me is somethin’ I got from you.” He grins, despite the pain of his split lip. “Can’t pour from an empty bottle, right?”

Bravo balks at him. “No, that’s not- it’s different,” he argues. “It’s- this is justified, you took everything from me-”

“So now you’re gonna do the same?” Tango raises his eyebrows. Bracing a hand against the wall, he slowly rises to his feet. “Funny, I- I thought that you were supposed to be a better person than me.”

“I am!” Bravo insists angrily.

Tango shrugs. “Well, you sure ain’t actin’ like it, skippy.”

That seems to take Bravo aback. “I- I don’t-” He rakes a hand through his hair, his breathing quickening. “It’s- it’s you, it’s this fucking place, it’s- I don’t know, it’s every-fucking-thing that’s happened in the last ten years! I- I didn’t deserve this, I didn’t do anything to deserve getting sent here!”

“Hold on, what makes you think I did anything to deserve gettin’ sent here?” Tango asks, genuinely curious. “I was spawned here as a child, I mean, what- what could a child possibly do to ‘deserve’ spawning here? What could any of us have done to deserve this?”

Ooh, Bravo doesn’t like that question. “I don’t know,” he splutters, “I didn’t make you spawn here! That was the universe, it- it must know that you- all you Hels- you’re just destined to be bad.”

Tango tilts his head. “Yeah? If that’s the case, then uh, why did the universe send you here?”

Bravo makes a sound like he’s been punched. “What?”

“I didn’t make that portal. You didn’t make that portal. We all know that the universe makes portals to Hermitcraft so why-”

“Stop it! It was a mistake! A glitch! I- I was never meant to come to Hels, you-”

“Then how has every other Hermit joined without having the same problem? Huh? Why you? Why us?”

“Shut up!” Bravo cries, almost desperate. “I’m the one in the right, here!”

“Says who?” Tango asks.

“I just- I have to be in the right!” Bravo protests, throwing an arm out. “I- I’m not like you, I’m not a Hels, I’m supposed to be the good one. If I’m mad, if I wanna hurt someone, it has to be justified, ‘cause I’m not- I’m not cruel.”

Tango just looks at him.

Bravo seems to recognize the irony in his words. It hits him almost like a physical attack; he staggers, eyes widening, face twisting with rage. “Don’t you dare fucking judge me!” he shouts as he raises his sword accusingly at Tango, voice echoing off the cavern walls. “I’m just- I did what I had to do to survive, and- and it ruined me. This world ruined me, and it’s all your fault, you bastard!”

They’re hollow accusations, built from hurt and deflected blame. But it doesn’t occur to Tango to defend himself against them. He couldn’t if he wanted to; all he can do is watch Bravo in stunned silence.

Even without the ability to set himself ablaze, Bravo’s rage is a terrible thing to behold. Tears stream down his reddened face; a mixture of fury and despair, raw and ugly. “It’s not fair!” he wails, almost a breathless scream. “Why did you get to be saved? Why did I have to take your place? What- what did I do?”

He takes another step closer, drawing his sword back, and Tango is suddenly struck by the very real possibility that Bravo is about to kill him.

“You did this to me!” Bravo snarls, wild-eyed and heaving for breath. “You and e- everyone else in th- this fucking hellscape, you- you did this, you-!” 

Bravo lifts his sword for the killing blow-

And then he pauses. He stares at Tango, and Tango stares back.

“... fuck. What am I doing?”

Bravo stumbles back from Tango, lowering his sword. He clutches his head with his free hand, a few stray tears streaking down his face as he struggles to control his breathing. His anger seems to have extinguished, finally letting the pain seep through- an expression that Tango knows as intimately as his own reflection.

Tango blinks. 

It’s a complicated rush of emotions. Bravo represents the worst part of Tango’s life coming back to haunt him; his skeleton in the closet. Fueled by prejudice and misplaced blame, he fought tooth and nail to destroy the life Tango had built for himself, brought pain and hardship to a world of strangers who’d done nothing to deserve it. He made a deal with a devil to get what he wanted and didn’t care who got caught up in the crossfire. Most of all, despite having a viable way to escape Hels peacefully, he doggedly pursued revenge out of nothing but spite and a twisted sense of justice.

Logically, Tango should hate Bravo as much as Bravo hates him.

But for the first time, Tango tries to imagine what it must’ve been like to be trapped in Hels for ten years and not knowing why.

What Bravo went through is exactly what Tango’s always feared since he escaped; that one day his luck would run out, and he’d lose everything. His peaceful life in the overworld. His freedom. His friends, and the love he found with Jimmy- maybe Bravo had people he cared about before, too. Worst of all, Bravo had already experienced the wonders of the wider universe before having it abruptly taken from him.

Tango had been spawned into cruelty and suffering. He hadn’t known anything different, hadn’t known there was anything beyond Hels that he was missing out on. But Bravo did. Bravo knew what it was to travel between worlds, to explore untainted horizons, to live under the warmth of the sun. He knew cooperation and goodwill between players, the comfort and safety of solo worlds. And then suddenly, he’d been deprived of it all, with no way of knowing if he’d ever get it back.

So if Atlas told him that it wasn’t his fault, that he could blame it all on some mysterious, evil doppelgänger… Tango understands why he’d cling to the notion so fiercely.

It’s an easy thing to blame someone else. Accepting that Tango isn’t to blame for what he’s become means accepting that maybe his understanding of Hels players is flawed, and that he might not have been as good of a player as he thought to begin with. Accepting that Tango wasn’t to blame for stranding him in Hels in the first place would mean accepting that maybe… there wasn’t a reason at all. And that kind of acceptance is paramount to altering his entire worldview.

Tango’s been through that himself, once. It wasn’t a fun process. So right now, watching Bravo fall apart in front of him, he finds that all he can feel is sympathy.

So Tango summons enough strength to step forward and wrap Bravo in a hug.

Bravo recoils at first; the kind of instinctive flinch that Tango knows all too well. A noise catches in his throat- part alarm, part disgust. “What’re you-” He tries to push away, but Tango holds fast.

“I’m sorry,” Tango whispers. “You didn’t deserve it.”

Bravo freezes. 

The air is still and silent around them, filled with nothing but the faint flickering of torches and Bravo’s shrill breathing. He’s as rigid as stone in Tango’s embrace- his muscles are so tense, it feels like they’re going to snap. After a few moments, he inhales sharply, and Tango is almost certain he’s about to receive a sword in the gut but he doesn’t let go, because he remembers what it’s like to live in this world and if he can’t even show his own doppelgänger kindness then he really hasn’t learned anything at all-

The sword clatters to the ground. And Bravo breaks.

He folds into the embrace and begins to sob. He sobs hard, shaking and gasping for breath in between, clinging to Tango like his life depends on it. Tears quickly dampen the collar of Tango’s shirt. It’s different from his earlier furious cries- this is absolute devastation, heart-wrenching and all-consuming. It’s a flood ten years in the making, finally spilling over all the careful walls that Bravo’s built around himself. And now that it’s here, there’s no stopping it.

Tango doesn’t speak. He simply eases them down to sit on the floor- he can’t support both his and Bravo’s weight right now. Bravo practically collapses, body limp, legs curled awkwardly beneath him but he doesn’t seem to notice or care. He sags against Tango and cries, and Tango lets him.

It’s slightly bizarre, holding his doppelgänger while he cries. Especially when he was attacking Tango not even two minutes ago. In many ways, it’s a disturbing echo of his own past breakdowns- he can hear himself so clearly in Bravo’s voice, the raw ache of it.

But he’s glad for it. New growth can only happen once the old is torn down. It’s a messy, unpleasant process. It won’t be quick or easy. Bravo has only just taken the first step- he’s still got a long, difficult journey ahead of him. But Tango knows how beautiful it’ll be, to come out through the other side.

And he thinks maybe he needed this, too.

Tango isn’t sure how much time they spend like that. Only when Bravo has finally grown silent, just the occasional sniffle or shaky breath, does Tango sit back enough to meet Bravo’s teary gaze.

“And neither did I,” he continues quietly. “And neither did anyone else who’s ever spawned here, that- that’s the point.”

Bravo sniffs, wiping his face on his sleeve. “But… the universe has to spawn you here for a reason,” he insists, his voice small and confused. Like a child.

Tango’s mildly surprised to find he feels no anger- just pity. “Maybe the universe is wrong.”

Distress flashes across Bravo’s face; clearly, he’s never considered that before. He pulls away from Tango but he doesn’t go far, tucking his knees to his chest. “So then... all this pain, all this struggle... was for nothing,” he says miserably. “Everything I went through... a- and everything I did... I- I was so sure there had to be a reason, that I was different from the players here, that I didn’t belong here. But I- I’m fucked up. I used to be a nice person, but…”

“Nice isn’t the same thing as good,” Tango says simply. “And I would know.”

Bravo swallows. “… how did you do it?” he asks hoarsely. “You’re a Hels, why… how come this world didn’t ruin you, too? How did you end up being the good one?”

It’s an exceedingly vulnerable question, without a hint of reproach. Tango hums, leaning back on his arms. “Y’know, I spent a long time in this world. I- I grew up where it’s kill or be killed, murder first ask questions later, everyone’ll sell you out for a piece of rotten flesh. That was just normal. That was expected. If you’d known me back then, I- I would’ve been no different from any other Hels. I set horrible traps for fun. I cost random players, people I didn’t even know, their resources and their lives in an already harsh world, I mean- it wasn’t pretty. But I was a kid.” He glances sidelong at Bravo. “I was just a teenager when Atlas took me in, did you- did he ever tell you that?” 

Bravo’s surprised expression is all the answer Tango needs.

“Nah, I guess he wouldn’t,” Tango sighs ruefully. “But the first person I thought was different- the first person who I thought saw more in me than the capacity for chaos, who offered me a home, a sense of belonging, a purpose... it turned out to be a trick. All of it, a lie. Just to get me into a horrible farm for the rest of my life, suffering constant withering and being harvested for my resources, like- like I was nothin’ more than a mob.” He gives Bravo a half-hearted grin. “You’d think that’d seal it, right? Like, that would just totally destroy any remaining faith I had in playerkind. And uh, it came pretty close, actually. But then I got out.”

He tips his head back to stare at the ceiling. “The universe created a portal, and I escaped to a world where players were kind. And generous, and… gave you the benefit of the doubt. They didn’t assume the worst, they didn’t judge you based on what you looked like. It was… completely foreign. I took advantage of it at first, I mean, I- I was a total jerk. I’m just lucky they thought it was all in good fun, jokes and pranks and stuff- or, or uh, maybe they did know, and still chose to show me grace, I dunno. What I do know is that after enough time had passed… I changed. My wants, my goals, my- my entire outlook on life changed. Suddenly I wanted to be good, I- I tried so hard to be good. And that only happened ‘cause I got the chance.” 

He meets Bravo’s gaze, raising his eyebrows. “And- and I was an adult at that point, I’d grown up in Hels. I mean, imagine what I might’ve been like if I’d spawned on a normal world, grown up in the normal way. Hell, imagine if any other Hels kid got that chance. Maybe there wouldn’t be so many differences between us. Like, maybe even someone like Atlas could’ve been better.” He shrugs. “And maybe he wouldn’t have. Maybe he always would’ve grown up to be an asshole. Either way, there’s no way of knowing if they never have the chance.”

Bravo looks pensive, his brows knitted together. “I guess I… never thought of that.”

Tango dares to reach out and put a hand on Bravo’s arm. “I’m sorry you got sent here. If I’d known about it when it happened... well, I- I probably still wouldn’t have said anything, if I’m honest,” he admits. “Like you said, I did what I had to do to survive. But I’m sorry for what you went through, and for what my role in that was. If I’d been brave enough to speak up, maybe we could’a helped you sooner, I dunno.” 

Bravo glances away. “I… understand,” he says haltingly. “It, uh… it doesn’t excuse the way I’ve been actin’, so. You know.”

Tango makes a noncommittal noise. “For what it’s worth, I- I don’t think ‘being good’ is somethin’ that’s like… intrinsically handed to us, just by virtue of where we spawn. I think good is a choice that we make, every second of every day of our lives. And y’know, deciding not to choose good in one moment doesn’t mean we can never choose good again.” He huffs a soft laugh. “I mean, if you ask me, that’s way more important than the world we spawn in.”

Bravo looks at him for a moment. His expression is impossible to read. Then determination settles over him, his eyes hardening, before he abruptly gets to his feet. Without a word, he marches over to one of the chests on the floor and rummages through it. Before Tango can say anything, Bravo pulls out an item and tosses it over to him.

Tango catches it, mostly on reflex; it’s a potion of instant health.

“You take that,” Bravo says briskly, stooping over to pick his sword off the ground, “while I go help Jimmy out of there.”

Then he jumps into the pit, slashing through cobwebs on his way down.

Tango blinks. Well, then. Guess that’s decided. He downs the potion quickly, grimacing at the sweet aftertaste of glistering melon, and rises to his feet. It hasn’t fully restored him, but it’s taken the edge off his fresh injuries and given him enough strength to be a functional player again, and he’s quite satisfied with that for now.

Putting away the empty bottle, he wanders over to the edge of the pit, catching the tail end of Jimmy snapping at Bravo as he approaches.

“- where you’re swingin’ that thing!”

“I’m tryin’ to help! Just hold still-”

“Don’t you tell me to- ouch!”

“You’re makin’ it worse! Hang on…”

Tango’s only just leaned over to look when Jimmy flies out of the pit. His wings are ruffled and there are a few places where it’s obvious that some feathers were pulled out, a few stray bits of cobweb still clinging here and there. But aside from the scrapes and bruises he received during their fight with Bravo, he looks none the worse for wear. He’s been gracious enough to carry Bravo out with him, though he’s quick to dump Bravo back on the ground once they’re clear of the pit.

“Tango!” Jimmy swoops over and nearly knocks Tango over, wrapping him in a tight hug. “Oh my gosh, I- I was so worried, are you alright?”

Despite the ache in his bones, Tango hugs him back just as fiercely. “Yeah, yeah, I’m alright, hun,” he reassures Jimmy, voice muffled in the crook of his shoulder.

Right now, he wants nothing more than to curl up in Jimmy’s embrace and fall asleep. Between the fight and his unexpected heart-to-heart with Bravo, he’s physically and emotionally worn out. But even though the immediate threat has been nullified, he knows they aren’t done yet.

Tango pulls back just enough to meet Jimmy’s gaze. “I’m sorry for all this,” he murmurs, reaching a hand up to cup Jimmy’s face. “I thought… if I came here by myself, I’d be protecting you- protecting everyone- from suffering the consequences of my mistake.”

Jimmy covers Tango’s hand with his own. “Did you… did you come here with the intent of givin’ yourself up?” he asks quietly.

Tango winces. “Well, I didn’t- that wasn’t my main goal, no, but uh- I- I knew it was a possibility,” he confesses. “I mean, ideally I would’ve patched things up with Bravo and- and somehow gotten the key from Atlas on my own, but… I was prepared to fail, yeah. I’d accepted it.”

Jimmy looks sad, but not surprised. “Y’know,” he starts softly, “you- you always talk about, uh… not wantin’ to hurt us, not wantin’ us to suffer for your mistakes. But I don’t think you realize that for us, the thought of losin’ you is far worse than whatever else might happen. I mean, I- I’d go through that battle with Hels Tek a hundred times over if it meant not losin’ you. And I know the others feel the same way.”

“Oh.” Tango’s throat tightens. “I… hadn’t thought of that.”

“I know.” A bittersweet smile spreads across Jimmy’s face. “I know it’s hard for you to believe sometimes, alright, but you- we’re rather fond of you, mate. So, um… d’you think you could give the self-sacrificial nonsense a rest?”

Despite everything, Tango feels himself grin. “I can try, yeah,” he says, leaning up to give Jimmy a kiss.

(On the inside, Tango is still terrified at how this might turn out. Hels is a dangerous world, and tangling with Atlas and the rest of Hels Tek is no small order. A horrible painful death is the least of his concerns- if Jimmy or any of the other Double Lifers ended up in a farm, Tango would never forgive himself.

But if today taught him anything, it’s that the people he cares about are just as stubborn as he is. No matter what he says or does, they’re going to be determined to help him, because that’s just the kind of players they are. And he could continue to try and fight it, to try and go it alone, but he’s sure they’ll still somehow put themselves in harm’s way.

So rather than fight it, maybe he can accept that they’re able to make their own decisions and take their own risks. And that working with them, rather than against them, might give them all the best chance of having a favorable outcome. They’ll certainly have an easier time dealing with Atlas if they don’t have to worry about Tango pulling another dirty, reckless move like this.)

Behind them, Bravo coughs into his fist. “Uh, hey, are you two done…?”

Jimmy breaks away with a huff of annoyance. “What?” he demands, keeping an arm around Tango’s waist.

“Just thinkin’ out loud here,” Bravo says, holding his hands up, “but uh, you- there’s no way you two are gonna be able to take on Hels Tek alone. I mean, you’ve already lost the element of surprise, I- he’s probably noticed your arrival in chat by now. And Hels Tek is several days away on foot, how- what, are you just- are you just gonna walk there? You’d barely make it a hundred blocks before gettin’ killed, what with your abysmal PVP skills.”

Jimmy scowls at the slight against them, but Tango frowns. “You’re right,” he amends. “I uh, I honestly didn’t have much of a plan besides ‘winging it’ when I came through, I- I was on a bit of a time crunch.”

“So what do you propose we do?” Jimmy asks Bravo pointedly.

Bravo rolls his eyes. “I mean, I just wanna get the fuck out of here. But if you guys are tryin’ to get the key to that collar skadoodler from Atlas, you’re gonna need help.”

“From you?” Jimmy’s distrust is evident in his voice. “Why?”

Bravo crosses his arms, shoulders hunched defensively. “I dunno, I- maybe I feel bad about the part I played in all this and feel like I owe you guys one?”

Jimmy scoffs. “Doubtful.”

Bravo opens his mouth to retort, but Tango intervenes. “Hey, I know you probably couldn’t hear everything from the bottom of that pit,” he tells Jimmy, “but uh, I- I really think we’ve worked it out, now.” He glances over at Bravo, smiling. “I think we can trust him.”

Shock flares in Bravo’s eyes, his expression sobering. He gives a slight nod.

Jimmy purses his lips. “Fine, but I still don’t like it-”

Ca-clunk.

Pistons activate, making all three of them whirl around to face the wall. Tango’s mind is already racing through the different possibilities- maybe Bravo was actually just stalling until backup came, or maybe Atlas was able to track them down on his own, or maybe it’s even a completely random player who stumbled across the base- but that all comes screeching to a halt as soon as he sees the player who steps out into the room.

Because that’s Jimmy.

Or- well- not exactly. It’s obviously not Jimmy because he’s still standing next to Tango. But it’s immediately apparent that, despite the several major differences between them, this is Jimmy’s doppelgänger, his Hels counterpart.

It seems impossible. Or at least, highly improbable, that Jimmy’s doppelgänger would be here, of all places, and now, of all times, when Hels is a massive, infinite world full of nearly infinite players.

But there’s no one else he could be.

“Bravo!” the player calls in Jimmy’s voice. “Did you- oh.” He draws up short when he sees them, seeming just as thrown by this turn of events as they are.

The first thing that jumps out at Tango is how skinny the player is. He’s practically emaciated; despite his tall frame, his limbs are no thicker than Tango’s, his big, watery eyes sunken into a hollow face- a face that, aside from the lack of a crooked nose, is almost identical to Jimmy’s. The large wings that trail behind him are black in color and poorly kept. He’s a lot paler than Jimmy is, too, almost a sickly sort of complexion. His ratty hair is a dull black, and- based on the sharp angles of the ends- was cut short very recently. 

Now Tango knows how Jimmy must’ve been feeling this whole time. It’s fucking weird.

Beside him, Jimmy’s breath catches. He takes a single, tentative step forward- though Tango is quick to throw an arm out in front of him. The player doesn’t look very threatening. He’s barefoot and dressed in rags, carrying no weapon or armor. But Tango’s still on guard. This is an unknown Hels player, after all.

The player stares at Jimmy, entranced. “Oh,” he breathes, a trembling hand coming up to tug on a strand of hair. A jumble of emotions flash across his face, too fast to read. “I see… you must be Jimmy.”

“And you’re Timmy,” Jimmy says softly, dawning realization settling over his features. “Aren’t you? Gosh…”

Tango recognizes the tone of their voices; they’re experiencing the same strange sensation he did, the first time he laid eyes on Bravo. That abrupt and absolute recognition of the self in the other. Despite meeting for the first time, there hadn’t been a doubt in Tango’s mind that Bravo was his doppelgänger. He’d known it as surely as his own name. It was something instinctual, almost primal- grounding and disorienting all at once.

Timmy. That’s the nickname that Grian and some of the other guys call Jimmy. A practical joke played on them by the universe, no doubt, to have spawned with the names they did.

Bravo finally unfreezes. “Timmy! I told you to wait for me to come get you!” he hisses, but Tango can see the guilt and shame on his face. 

“Sorry…” Timmy murmurs distantly, still fixated on Jimmy. “I was just… gosh, I- everythin’ makes sense now…” He finally turns to look at Bravo, and the faint, knowing smile on his face is devastatingly sad. “I… get why I wasn’t good enough.”

Bravo flinches. “No, no I- I didn’t mean-”

“Ey,” Jimmy cuts in, voice gentle but firm as he moves past Tango to approach Timmy. “C’mere, mate, it’s alright. Ignore him a second, hey?” He fans out a wing to block Bravo from view, nonverbally conveying that he’d like a private moment with his doppelgänger.

“Yeah, come on.” Tango takes the cue to grab Bravo by the arm, leading him to the other side of the room. “You- you wanna explain him?” he asks lowly, putting his hands on his hips. “I mean, how- where did you even find him?”

Bravo exhales heavily. “At spawn. Actually, I- we met the first time I ended up at world spawn, all those years ago. Go figure. He- he’d been livin’ there for god knows how long, just… starving to death, over and over again, ‘cause he was too scared to leave.”

Damn.

“Huh.” Tango nods slowly. “So… what were you sayin’ about all Hels being evil monsters…?”

Bravo tenses. “Shut up. He’s different.” He glances over his shoulder at the pair of avians. “I… after I was killed on your world, and- and escaped from Hels Tek, I ended up at spawn. He was still there, and this time… he agreed to come with me, so he could leave Hels with me once I got my portal working.”

“Mhmm.” Tango’s voice is terse, even to his own ears. “You, uh... didn’t happen to keep him around just ‘cause he’s my soulmate’s doppelgänger, did you?”

Bravo winces. “... maybe at first,” he admits. “But then- I dunno, I- I didn’t- things changed, alright?”

Tango folds his arms. “That’s pretty fucked up, to use him as a- a replacement Jimmy.”

“I know, okay?” Bravo hisses, but it’s lacking its usual venom. “I- I’ve had a lotta realizations in the last few minutes, alright? Gimme a break.”

Tango snorts but says nothing else, looking over to check on Jimmy.

He’s speaking to Timmy in low tones, eyes shining with concern. His demeanor is reserved, gentle, nonthreatening- he’s matching Timmy’s curled-in posture, just with less of the anxiety, more reassuring. And it seems to be working; even from this distance, it’s apparent Timmy’s slowly growing more comfortable, less afraid.

Sudden warmth swells in Tango’s chest. It’s overwhelming, meeting your doppelgänger, but Jimmy’s put all those complicated feelings aside to help a player who seems to sorely need it. His experience with Hels players thus far has been nothing but flat-out terrible, and yet it didn’t even occur to him to be wary of Timmy. Some might view that as foolish naivety or ignorance, maybe even stupidity. But to Tango, it’s a testament to Jimmy’s incredible kindness.

He couldn’t be more proud of his soulmate.

Eventually, Jimmy waves them over. “Hey, so uh, you got somethin’ to say to Timmy?” he asks Bravo, one hand resting protectively on Timmy’s bony shoulder.

Taken back, Bravo looks at Tango, who simply raises an eyebrow.

Bravo swallows. “Look,” he starts hesitantly, “I- I uh, I’m sorry for the way I’ve been treating you, alright? It… wasn’t fair for me to compare you to Jimmy.”

Timmy’s avoiding his gaze, fidgeting with his hands, but there’s a hopeful light in his eyes. “Thanks,” he says softly.

Satisfied for the moment, Jimmy turns to Tango. “We can’t leave him here,” he says, completely resolute. “I- I think we should head back through the portal for now, regroup with the others and come up with a- with an actual plan? So long as we don’t break the portal, we’ll still be able to come back through. Even if he,” he nods at Bravo, “is with us.”

Tango rubs the back of his neck, sheepish. “Right, right, yeah. I’m- the others are bound to notice we’re gone soon, so we should probably-”

“Oh!” Timmy gasps suddenly, smacking his forehead. “The others, right! Right, sorry, I uh- the reason I came to find you, Bravo, is that a- a whole buncha players just joined the world.” He cringes, apologetic. “I- I think it’s those guys you were tellin’ me about.”

“What?!” Bravo demands, sounding alarmed.

Tango whips out his communicator, eyes widening at the chat. 

The entire Double Life server has joined Hels. Which means they’re probably up by the portal right now, wandering around and looking for him in a dangerous world they’re entirely unfamiliar with, full of hostile mobs, hidden traps, and certain ruthless scientists who’d love to add a few hybrids to their collection.

Shit.

~*~

Somewhere in Hels, a player types furiously on a communicator.

“No,” Atlas calls over his shoulder distractedly, “they won’t be at world spawn. Get me the last coordinates searched by Alisker’s mercenaries, we’ll start from there.”

“Yes, sir,” the scientist says quickly before rushing off.

It’s only been a few minutes since Atlas was alerted to Tango’s arrival in chat- him and one other player. The avian, he thinks. Obviously, this development necessitated that they drop everything and immediately pivot towards an effort to recapture Tango. Amidst giving orders to prepare the flying machines and gather weapons and armor, he’s been frantically trying to reach Alisker via whispers- without looking like he’s too desperate, of course, but he knows that having Alisker’s support in this endeavor will be critical to its success.

All the while, part of his mind is dedicated to puzzling out Tango’s motive.

He had a feeling they’d return to Hels eventually, to try and get the key for Tango’s collar from him. No doubt Tango’s finding its properties rather disruptive to normal life. The only question was whether or not Alisker’s mercenaries would find Bravo before then, allowing them to open a new portal and strike first. The latter option would’ve certainly been ideal, but ultimately, it doesn’t matter. He’s confident they’ll succeed this way, too.

(Failure isn’t an option. Not again.)

What’s most confusing, however, is that Tango seems to have come without any real backup. The other players from his world were quite formidable as a group; Tango must know that leaving them behind will considerably lower his chances of success. So perhaps he doesn’t intend to confront Atlas at all, and is simply content to live with the collar. After all, he’s still wearing the cuffs, all these years later.

The only way to open a portal to Hels- that they know of, at least- is by using a player’s data to lock onto their counterpart’s coordinates. So Tango must’ve opened a portal to Bravo. Perhaps that’s all his goal is- an attempt to make amends with his doppelgänger and provide an escape from Hels. If that’s the case, then they’re working with a limited time frame.

Because if Bravo leaves Hels with Tango, then Atlas is truly out of viable options. All he’ll be able to do is open random portals to any of Hels Tek’s counterparts in the overworld, giving them access to random worlds that Tango is highly unlikely to inhabit. That won’t satisfy Alisker, and Atlas is already on thin ice as it is. No, they need to move now if they have any chance of-

Chat is suddenly jumping with join messages, and some very familiar usernames.

Ah, there’s the rest of them.

Atlas’s runaway train of thought screeches to a halt. If the other members of that world are here now, then it seems like they’ll be going for the key, after all. Which means he can breathe again. They’ve got a difficult conflict ahead of them, sure, but he rather likes their chances here in Hels. And he’s got a much better idea of what they’re up against this time- they won’t be defeated again so easily.

Oh, and Alisker’s finally returned his message. Yes, things are shaping up quite nicely, indeed.

Atlas quickly makes the arrangements, rising from his chair and heading out of his office. The halls of Hels Tek are bustling with activity as everyone scrambles to get ready. Anticipation bubbles in Atlas’s chest. This is his last chance to be victorious; he won’t rest until Tango is locked back in that farm. And, if he plays this right, he’ll have several new additions to his hybrid-farming initiative as well. Already his mind is racing with ideas..

The minutes pass in a blur. Atlas is standing before the flying machines and barking orders, his voice echoing off the garage’s high ceiling, when his communicator beeps again. He glances down, expecting to see another message from Alisker, and draws up short.

Grian tried to swim in lava.

PearlescentMoon tried to swim in lava.

InTheLittleWood tried to swim in lava.

impulseSV tried to swim in lava.

Smajor1995 tried to swim in lava. 

Etho tried to swim in lava.

ZombieCleo tried to swim in lava.

bigbst4tz2 tried to swim in lava.

Smallishbeans tried to swim in lava.

GoodTimeWithScar tried to swim in lava.

BdoubleO100 tried to swim in lava.

Renthedog tried to swim in lava.

Atlas blinks in surprise. The messages are almost simultaneous; a massive die-off like this can’t be anything other than a trap. How curious...  he knows Bravo is rather fond of setting traps, as Alisker’s mercenaries have discovered firsthand. And if the portal they came through was spawned near Bravo’s location… perhaps this was accidental friendly fire?

Another message flashes.

SolidarityGaming was slain by Bravo.

Oh. Nevermind.

Atlas watches chat with bated breath. It hasn’t escaped his notice that, as of right now, Tango is still alive. And if his hunch is correct…

<Bravo whispered to you> hey. I’ve got an offer for you.

Atlas grins.

~*~

[in-the-multiverse]

hug!

(extra stuff under the cut)

I realized halfway through line art that BigB’s face would be covered up so here he is :> and the hidden eyes!

I chose the border flowers (pink ones are swamp milkweed and the yellow ones are black-eyed susan) mainly because they can be found in frog habitats but they also symbolize freedom and encouragement

In double life they weren't satisfied with their soulbound, to say the least. The universe tied them to certain people and they ended up against it. In limited life, they were free to choose alliances again. They chose eachother when they noticed that the rest of the server already found their groups. Every session, every hour mattered and they kept choosing each other. You're free to come along with me. You're free to share this home with me

They encouraged each other throughout the season, each problem felt easier to deal with when they were side by side. Pearl welcomed him with open arms. At last, here was someone to laugh with, and create schemes with again. Together, they could face anything. And Pearl's confidence in BigB’s abilities helped strengthen that belief in himself, that he could stand against Jimmy and win. He could win these brutal death games. Doesn't matter if every odd is staring at you, you can change the game in the next second

You can do it, I believe in you

[ch3rrytales]

i couldn’t be more in love - steve harrington

a/n: hi! here’s a lil angsty steve one shot for y’all (unedited) this is my first time writing steve so please be gentle with me. requests are currently open. thanks for reading and as always all support and criticism is extremely appreciated! hope you enjoy, lots of love - florie <3

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

summary: steve’s fears of not being good enough for you cause him to end your four year relationship and leave you heartbroken. even though he tries his best to move on and let you go, his undeniable need to protect you results with you in his bed at the end of a night out.

word count: 7.8k

warning(s): cursing, crying, drinking, mention of weed, parental pressure, throwing up, angst, mentions of insecurity about self worth, smut, no use of y/n, steve and reader are 19/20.

“Ignore it.” Robin said, pushing an overflowing red solo cup into your hand, lukewarm beer sloshing over the rim to drip down your arm. 

You shot her a glare and huffed, “I’m trying to.” 

She stepped in front of you, blocking your line of vision to who you had been staring daggers at in the corner of the room. 

Steve Harrington. Your ex-boyfriend. Your twin flame. Your soulmate. The love of your life. 

And her. His new fling. 

They had been going at it for the past 5 minutes, they hadn’t even stopped to catch their breath. 

You could remember when you and Steve were like that, attached at the hip, disgustingly affectionate. 

You weren’t even sure when you had stopped being like that. All you knew was that three weeks ago he had sat you down, taken your hands in his own, eyes glossy, and said the words you had hoped you would never have to hear from his mouth. 

“I think it’s time we go our separate ways.”

The second he said it you felt something inside of you drop, trickle all the way down to the tips of your toes and onto the floor, it’s absence leaving your whole body cold. When you and Steve started dating, a comfort that you had never been familiar with before found a home in you and put you at ease for the first time in your life. When you were with him your head and heart were so full of love that any familial or personal pressures that typically plagued you were forced out, there was no more room for them. Your parents overbearing wishes and your perpetual fear of failure were overpowered by his sheer admiration of you, it had always been said that you were destined for greatness in all your endeavors, but Steve never really wanted greatness, he only wanted you. Until he didn’t. 

Now you watched them and fought to ignore the pain stabbing into your heart. While his hands roamed over her body you thought back to a better time, a sweeter time. 

- - - 

Steve slung his arm around your shoulders as you walked past a group of football players who were passing around a poorly made bong on the front porch. They shouted various greetings to your socially esteemed boyfriend who returned their welcome with a nonchalant wave of his hand. 

You tilted your head to speak into his ear as you passed through the front door. 

“Whose house is this again?” 

“You remember Jimmy? I introduced you two at my house last week.”

“Right.” you remembered, one of Steve’s teammates from basketball. “And you’re sure it’s okay that I came, you know without an invitation?” 

Steve’s lips twisted up into a lazy smirk and he couldn’t help himself from pressing a chaste kiss on your cheek. 

“You’re my plus one, baby. Course it’s okay.” 

As you made your way through the party you tried not to feel intimidated by the amount of people flocking to your boyfriend, guys pulling him into half assed hugs, and girls pressing into him, their glossed lips wrapping around sultry hellos. 

Steve didn’t seem to pay it any mind, he kept his arm wrapped tightly around your waist ushering you through the crowd until you had reached the drink table in the center of the kitchen. He lifted you up so you sat in front of him atop the counter and shuffled his way between your thighs. 

“Whaddya drinking?” he crooned, smooth as always. 

“Dunno.” you mumbled, lost in the way his eyes burned into you. 

“You want something sweet, honey?” he teased, his hands finding a home just above your knees. 

You nodded dumbly as his fingertips traveled up and dipped just under the hem of your skirt. 

“Me too.” he agreed and laughed softly, motioning to his lips with the point of his finger. “Lay it on me.” 

You pecked him once leaving your cheeks warm and he hummed contently against you before pulling away. 

“Alright, now that we’ve got that sorted. How bout a shirley temple?” 

He started pouring soda and grenadine into a cup of ice, dumping in two shots of vodka to finish it off while you watched, your feet lazily swinging from where they hung above the ground. 

“Cherry on top?” he asked, pulling a jar of maraschino cherries from the door of the fridge. 

“Please.” you replied, sticky sweet. 

“Well fuck.” he scoffed, twisting the lid off. “I’d cut my right arm off if you asked like that, honey.” 

- - - 

You were slowly nursing your second drink of the night and had no desire for a third. In all honesty what you really wanted to do was walk home and hide in your bed but you knew that wouldn’t be happening, Robin wouldn’t allow it. 

She had practically dragged you from your tear soaked sheets and forced you into the little red skirt and matching cropped angora sweater you had bought impulsively as a post breakup gift for yourself. 

“You really need to get out.” she said while you begrudgingly swiped mascara through your lashes, just a few hours earlier. 

“I’m not ready yet, Robs.” you complained, turning in your vanity chair to face her. “What if he’s there? What if he’s with that girl?” 

“That girl” being Donna, a stunning hair stylist who worked at the salon across from Family Video. Robin had been keeping you filled in on their budding romance since it began, how she had come in one Tuesday and slid a gum wrapper scribbled with her number across the counter with her perfectly polished nails while Steve was helping her checkout. He had taken her out that weekend and they had been seeing each other casually since. 

Robin threw a fashion magazine she was flipping through on your bed to the floor, “Who cares? You know I love you and I wouldn’t want to say anything to upset you while you’re-” she paused to grimace at the pile of soggy tissues covering your nightstand. “...fragile. But, obviously he’s moved on and it’s killing me to see you still stuck on him when you’re so clearly out of his league.” 

You stared at her blankly, “I’m out of his league?” 

“Duh! This is Steve Harrington we’re talking about, I once watched him have a 20 minute “lightsaber duel” with Henderson using a mop.” 

You scrunched your nose trying to hide the fact that you found that incredibly endearing and not at all dorky before you responded, “Yet he’s the one who dumped me.” 

She sighed in full dramatics flinging her head off the end of your bed so she was staring at you upside down, “Exactly! What kind of a dingus would do that?” 

You frowned at yourself in the mirror before powdering your nose for the third time, “Someone who’s moving on to better things.” 

“I call bullshit.” she declared. “How does it get better than you? Once you get yourself all pretty and a couple of drinks in your system you’ll forget who Steve Harrington even is.” 

“Doubtful.” you retorted. 

Robin came behind you, her expression pitiful as it reflected in your mirror. “But, would it kill you to try?” she asked hopefully. 

You shrugged and swiped a cherry scented gloss across your lips, “It might.” you said honestly. “But, I guess I’ve got nothing left to lose.” 

Robin beamed at you through the mirror and smacked a kiss to the top of your head before practically skipping to the other side of your bedroom. 

“Well, then hurry.” she said, pulling her pin-covered denim jacket over her shoulders. “We leave in 10.” 

Now that you were at the party, staring at the person you loved more than anything in the world with his tongue down another girl's throat, you realized you did have something to lose, the contents of your stomach. 

You turned to Robin, who was beside you eyeing a girl who had come into Family Video last week in search of any Molly Ringwald movie she could get her hands on. 

“I think I’m gonna yack.” you whispered. 

“What?” she questioned. “You’ve hardly had anything to drink.” 

“It’s not the alcohol making me queasy.” you replied, gesturing to Steve and Donna pressed against the wall opposite to you. 

“I thought I told you to ignore him?” she said, still slightly distracted.

“Easier said than done.” 

She took a moment to look at you, her best friend. It honestly hurt her to see you so down on yourself. All she wanted was for you to have a good time after weeks of sobbing in her arms and isolating yourself in your room. She looked around the room until her gaze fell upon a beefy blonde eyeing you from the beer pong table. 

“You wanna play a game of pong?” she said, gesturing to the table. 

“Not really.” you replied, your eyes unmoving from Steve’s back. 

“Too bad.” she decided, tugging you behind her. 

“Robinnn” you complained, following her. 

When the two of you reached the table the blonde in question sauntered over to you, drinking you in with his stare. 

“You girls up for a game?” he shouted over the music. 

You shook your head timidly while Robin replied, “Absolutely.” 

The boy pulled you into his side with an arm around your back and spoke into your ear, “You’re on my team, babe.” 

You looked helplessly to Robin who only nodded and mouthed to you, “Go for it.” 

“You got a partner?” he asked her. She looked around and shrugged. 

You turned your focus to reorganizing the scattered cups on the table into a pyramid, your head shooting up when your new partner’s voice cut through the room. 

“Harrington!” he called. “Come play, we need another person.” 

Robin’s eyes widened as she tried to assess what the quickest escape for you would be. 

But Steve was faster, approaching the table with Donna under his arm still unaware of your presence. 

He saw Robin first, her face red and eyes locked on yours. Then he focused his attention on the man beside you who once again pulled you close and then spoke, “It’s you and her against me and this pretty thing.” 

Then Steve saw you, your cheek mushed against the blonde douche’s shoulder, bottom lip wobbling as you suffocated in the unexpected eye contact. 

Donna leaned in and whispered something in his ear that made his jaw clench and he shooed her back gently with the wave of his hand. 

“Sorry, bud.” he said, eyes unmoving from yours. “Not interested.” 

As quickly as he was there he was gone.

You were seconds away from crumpling to the ground when Robin pulled you from the man’s arms. 

“Fuck,” she said, her hands on your shoulders. “I’m sorry, I had no idea he was coming over here.” 

You shook your head, dismissing her apologies. “It’s not your fault, I just-” your voice cracked and you looked at her wordlessly. “He didn’t even acknowledge me.” 

She frowned and pulled you into a hug, “He’s a massive idiot.” 

“Are we still playing?” The blonde asked, dumbfounded. 

“Sorry, but fuck off.” Robin replied, before walking towards the kitchen, arms still wrapped around you. “We’re taking shots. Lots of them.” 

“I’m not in the mood.” 

Robin pulled a bottle of vodka from the many assorted liquors lined up on the table in front of you. 

“Y’know how they say the best way to get over someone is to get under them?” she asked, already pouring the shots. 

You nodded weakly. 

She shoved the tiny glass into your hand, “That’s a lie.” she declared. “The best way to get over someone is to get absolutely shit faced.” 

You recalled Steve’s expression when he saw you, it was cold, not exactly unbothered but withdrawn. You recalled her hands on him, her lips brushing the shell of his ear, and her words affecting him. 

You slung the glass back, the liquid bringing a welcome burn to the back of your throat. Then you took another. Then another. Then another. 

Within the hour you were somewhat distracted from your heartache. You and Robin were squished together on a couch with Nancy and Jonathan, all giggling drunkenly in response to the story Jonathan was sharing of an encounter he had with an inebriated pizza delivery boy the week prior. 

You had lost count of your drinks and your head was feeling increasingly heavy to hold up, making your neck ache. You didn’t really mind the pain, in fact you welcomed it, this pain was much easier to manage then the dull throbbing kind that had been tormenting your heart. Your head fell back against the cushion behind you and you felt as if the world was spinning off its axis beneath you. Your elbow dug into Robin’s side making her groan in annoyance. The lights in the room started to overwhelm you and a wave of nausea washed over you. 

“Robin,” you mumbled, eyes squeezing shut. 

“Hm?” she hummed in response, her head lolling to the side. 

“M’gonna be sick.” 

“Now?” 

You swallowed thickly and shakily rose to your feet. “Right now.” you confirmed. You started pushing past people in pursuit of the bathroom, you could hear Robin behind you faintly. 

“Coming,” she said. “Slow down, I'm right behind you.” 

You ran up the stairs, as fast as you could in your current state, hands clawing the railing for balance. You stumbled through the hallway, checking behind you when you had reached what you hoped to be the bathroom door only to realize you had lost Robin along the way. 

Your clammy hands turned around the knob and your body fell limp against the door as it swung open, fluorescent light invading your eyes. You dropped to your knees and shoved the door shut behind you, too nauseous to attempt locking it. Your hands shook as they gripped the toilet pushing up the seat before heaving roughly into the bowl. 

Your eyes squinted shut as your head pounded, the music playing from downstairs was slightly shaking the foundation of the house and you were suddenly longing to be carried away and tucked into your bed. 

You thought of Steve, not whoever it was you encountered downstairs. But your Steve, the one who would give you piggyback rides from the bar to where his car was parked blocks away when your feet hurt. The one who sat criss-cross applesauce on Nancy Wheeler’s bathroom floor with you in his lap, peppering your shoulders with kisses when you got too drunk last New Year’s Eve. 

You brought the back of your hand to your mouth wiping roughly, your cheeks were wet with tears. You must’ve been sitting there for at least fifteen minutes, thoughts lingering on the past. When had you even started crying? You tore at the toilet paper roll beside you and balled up a sizable portion, you wiped at your eyes furiously, disregarding the mascara that was surely staining your face. 

What a mess. 

You shuddered at the thought of Steve seeing you like this, messy and broken and crumpled on the floor. You wondered what he would think, if he would feel sorry or just sorry for you. 

As if the universe were playing some sort of cruel joke on you, while the thought floated around your head you heard the door unlatch and when you reluctantly followed the sound you saw him standing above you like some sort of awful miracle. 

He looked shocked first, not expecting anyone to be in the room, but then the guilt washed over his face and you knew he had realized what he really walked into. 

“Fuck, hon-.” he stuttered, his hands reaching out instinctively. 

The half murmured term of endearment felt like a punch in the gut and you physically winced as he approached you. 

His eyes filled with hurt at the way you reacted to his entrance, he used to scoop you up in his arms and quiet any of your pain with nothing but his presence and whispered words of comfort. 

“Go,” you pleaded, your voice scratchy and raw. 

“I can’t just leave you lik-” he sighed, and looked at you helplessly, as if saying what do you expect me to do. As if leaving you heartbroken and soiled on the bathroom tiles would be physically impossible for him, like he wasn’t the reason behind it. 

“Are you okay?” 

You sniffled and stared at the floor, “Please go.” 

Steve squatted beside you and hesitantly reached out. He swallowed hard when you flinched under his touch as he pushed the hair out of your eyes, ensuring it was only mascara marring your pretty face and you weren’t physically harmed. 

You refused to meet his eyes and when he tried to pull you off the ground, tugging gently on your hands, you shook your head.

“What do you think you’re doing?” you protested.

“Taking you home, c’mon.” 

“No,” you argued. “Why would I do that? No, I’m- I’m here with Robin, she’s-” 

“She’s passed out downstairs,” he interrupted. “You need to go home.” 

“You’re drunk. I’m not-” 

“I’m stone cold sober.” he informed, bringing his finger to his nose and then extending out as if he were doing a field test. 

You finally locked eyes with him, and the unshed tears that sat brimming on your waterline seemed to drown him. 

“I can’t, Steve.” you cried. “I can’t be in a car with you and…her.” 

His shoulders fell a little and his expression softened ten fold. 

“She’s not- I wouldn’t put you through that.” he said, as if it were obvious. “That’s why I’m not drinking,” he explained. “I already took her home, she’s babysitting her little brother tomorrow morning. She couldn’t stay late.”

You scoffed wetly, “How responsible of her.” 

“Be nice.” he warned and you wanted to punch his perfect face. 

“I’m not nice.” you slurred, under your breath. 

“Bullshit,” he replied. “If someone hit you with their car you’d be the one to apologize.” 

“Not anymore.” 

“Don’t buy it.” he dismissed “Can you walk?” 

“M’fine.” you clipped, rising to your feet while trying to ignore the feeling of the ground swaying under your feet and the pit of nausea still living in your stomach. “Gonna walk home.” you decided, pushing past him to get out of the tiny restroom. 

He caught your forearm in the hallway, steadying your wobbly walk. “Yeah right. I’m taking you home. C’mon, I’m parked out front.” 

You tried to tear yourself out of his grip, blaming the fluttery feeling in your stomach on your overindulgence. 

“I don’t want your help. Okay?” you barked. 

He ran his free hand through his hair and sighed, discouraged. “Look, I know you must hate me right now and I understand…” he paused and his expression remorseful. For a second you caught a glimpse of the man you loved, the man you still love. “Three weeks doesn’t erase four years. Please, let me take you home.”

Your will to fight him dwindled fast and you had to actively restrain yourself from embracing him and burying your face in his chest. 

“Robin-” you started. “I can’t just leave her here.” 

“I know.” He smiled sadly, still in complete awe of the way you cared for those lucky enough to be loved by you. “Go wait by the door, I’ll make sure she has a way home.” 

“Thank you.” you mumbled. 

“Of course.” He said, the second half of the sentence dying on his tongue. Anything for you. 

You slowly made your way to the door and leaned against the wall, forcing air into your nose and out of your mouth in heavy puffs. You could feel your nerves buzzing beneath your skin at the prospect of being in a confined space with the person who dizzied you most in the world. 

When Steve returned your eyes had drifted shut and your hands rested on your temples. 

“Nancy and Jonathan are gonna give her a ride, they’re leaving in about an hour.” he informed. “You okay?” 

You nodded slowly in response, “Thanks again.” 

He hummed and opened the door for you, his hand instinctively finding its way to rest on your lower back and guide you out of the house. 

When you got to his car he opened the passenger door, helping you in and leaning across you before you had a chance to shut it to secure your seat belt into place. Your whole body tensed when his fingers brushed against your hip and he muttered an apology. 

He joined you in the car and switched on the radio before pulling away from the party in the direction of your house. Neither of you spoke as you exited the neighborhood so you laid your head against the window and watched the trees under the dim street lights as you passed by. 

He turned a corner and you pressed your fingers into the leather seat beneath you to fight the unrest in your stomach that arose from the car’s motion. 

“So, why’d you come back?” you asked, breaking the uncomfortable silence. “Y’know after you dropped her off.” 

Steve’s fingers tightened around the wheel and his eyes flicked to the side to see you looking at him timidly. 

“I said I’d help clean after.” he lied, swallowing the truth with a forced gulp. 

He couldn’t tell you the real reason behind his return, that he had been in agony imagining you at the party saddled up with some former jock, no one there to supervise your open drinks, or to ensure you had a safe way to get home. 

“And now you’re driving me home.” 

He realized leaving again before the party was over contradicted his lie and cleared his throat. 

“I just wanted to make sure you were okay.” 

You felt the sadness that had been lingering in you all night slowly turn to anger. 

“Of course I’m not.” you clipped, facing out the window again. 

“Sorry,” he said. “That was probably a stupid thing to say considering…” he trailed off, biting his lip so hard he wouldn’t be surprised if he were to draw blood. 

“Considering you dumped me and got a new girlfriend within a few weeks?” 

“She’s not my girlfriend.” His heart hurt at the idea that anyone but you could hold that title. 

He turned into your neighborhood and you had never been more thankful to see your house in the distance, that is until you realized all the lights were still on. Your parents were still up. Fuck. 

To anyone else this may not have been a big deal, you were legally an adult but that never seemed to matter to your parents who were as strict as nuns when it came to drinking. 

Steve seemed to notice the lights as well because his car came to a stop a few meters before your driveway. 

“Well shit.” he remarked

“I can’t go in.” you said. You knew you must’ve looked quite disheveled, most likely smelled of alcohol and while you felt much more sober since emptying your stomach you knew there would still be a sway in your walk and a slight slur to your voice. 

“You can stay at mine tonight,” he offered. 

You laughed in amusement and anger. “I don’t think so. I can go to Robin’s.” 

“She’s staying at Nancy and Jonathan’s and they won’t even be there for another 45 minutes at least. You can sleep in the guest room.” 

He put the car in drive again and started towards his place before you could argue anymore. 

The rest of the ride was spent in silence, nothing but the quiet hum of the radio and the drum of Steve’s fingers on the steering wheel. When he pulled into his garage you got out before he had the chance to do anything annoying and chivalrous like open your door or help you exit the vehicle. 

You stepped inside the house that may as well have been haunted, every nook and cranny linked to some fond memory you shared with your ex boyfriend. The kitchen where he had miserably failed at cooking you an anniversary dinner, the shower where he carded his fingers through your sud soaked hair, the bed where you had lost your virginity and he held you in his arms till the morning came. Every part of this house was woven into your love story and you felt suffocated within its walls. 

He threw his keys onto the kitchen table and kicked his shoes into the corner as you stood frozen in front of him taking in your surroundings as if for the last time. 

“You can shower if you want,” he offered. “There’s some towels in the guest bathroom.” 

“Okay.” you replied coolly. 

“Just stay there a sec, I’ll go grab you some clothes.” 

Your eyes were glued to a slightly faded polaroid of the two of you stuck to the fridge with a Hawkins High Basketball magnet. The fridge was barren otherwise, Steve’s parents not the type to decorate with school pictures or family memorabilia. The photo had been taken the night Steve told you he loved you and the night you returned the sentiment. In the picture your cheeks were pressed together, spread taut with matching smiles. You had been so happy that night, quite opposite to how you were feeling now. 

Steve startled you from your thoughts with a gentle hand on your shoulder, he followed your line of sight to the photo and spoke, “One of my favorites. You looked breathtak-”

“Steve,” you cut off coarsely. “Just stop it.” 

“Sorry, I just…it doesn’t matter. Here,” he said, handing you a stack of folded clothes that you recognized as your own. “I didn’t think you’d wanna wear anything of mine and I remembered I had these in the back of my dresser.” 

You accepted them with no word of thanks and tried to convince yourself that he was right, that you hadn’t wanted him to hand you a pair of boxers and one of his sweaters still lingering with his cologne. 

Once you reached the bathroom you stripped yourself of your uncomfortable party attire and turned on the hot water. You stood under the sweltering stream and welcomed the burn, letting all the rage you felt for Steve bubble up and swarm your head for the entire duration of your shower. 

When you finished you hastily pulled on your clothes, your skin was now scorched and your anger hot and irrational. You stormed towards his room and swung the door open with not so much as a knock. There he sat in the dark, only the moon providing any illumination. His body stretched across his bed on top of the covers, head tilted to the ceiling with nothing but a pair of plaid pajama pants resting lowly on his hips. 

“I hope you know,” you started, startling him with a finger pointed lethally in his direction. “I’m not going to go around thinking you’re some great guy just because you took pity and helped me tonight.” 

Steve could only flick his eyes in your direction briefly, too emotionally exhausted from the night to even sit up. “That’s not why I did it.” 

“Oh, of course not.” your voice dripped with sarcasm.”King Steve is just such a gentleman he couldn’t have it any other way. Don’t act like tonight was motivated by anything other than guilt.” 

“Do you actually believe that?” 

“You brought that beautiful girl and you just carried on with her like I wasn’t even there. Then when it broke me you just had to come along and pick up the pieces.” 

“I’m tired.” he muttered, your name following the statement almost inaudibly. He was tired of fighting with you, tired of seeing the way your eyes burnt into him no longer with lust but something even stronger, hurt. 

“You don’t think I’m tired? You don’t think I wouldn’t give anything to close my eyes and not see her hands all over you?” 

“Fine, I regret it. I should’ve thrown away her number the second she gave it to me. I should’ve never brought her to the party. Is that what you want to hear?

“No!” you cried. “It’s you who shouldn’t have come to the party and you shouldn’t have come back after you left. You could’ve just let me have this one night, I needed it.” 

“I don’t regret that. I had to go to the party, you know that.” 

“I don’t see what that has to do with me.” 

His eyes softened, “It has everything to do with you.” 

Suddenly you saw the events of the night under a completely different lens.

- - - 

Then Steve saw you, your cheek mushed against the blonde douche’s shoulder, bottom lip wobbling as you suffocated in the unexpected eye contact. 

Donna leaned in and whispered something in his ear that made his jaw clench and he shooed her back gently with the wave of his hand. 

“Sorry, bud.” he said, eyes unmoving from yours. “Not interested.” 

“Looks like she moved on after all.” Donna had purred in his ear. 

He looked at you cozied up to someone new and saw nothing but red. He had to get out of there fast. 

 “Why would I do that? No, I’m- I’m here with Robin, she’s-” 

“She’s passed out downstairs,” he interrupted. “You need to go home.” 

He searched the party desperately, only able to catch his breath when he saw Robin laid across the couch, mouth hung open, Nancy and Jonathan not far by. He forced through the crowd till he reached her and felt his heart rate skyrocket when you were nowhere to be seen. He shook her shoulder till she roused enough to open her eyes a sliver. 

“Where is she?” he asked, voice urgent. “Where, Robin? Is she okay?” 

Robin grumbled and rolled over but not before muttering two words, “Sick. Upstairs.” 

“So, why’d you come back?” you asked, breaking the uncomfortable silence. “Y’know after you dropped her off.” 

“I said I’d help clean after.” he lied, swallowing the truth with a forced gulp. 

“And now you’re driving me home.” 

He had never once stayed after a party to clean, not even for his closest friends, and certainly not for some former football player he had interacted with maybe 4 times in his life who still found spitballs to be the height of comedy at the ripe age of 21. 

- - - 

“You were looking for me.” you realized. 

Steve met your eyes and exhaled heavily, “Aren’t I always?” 

You held eye contact and despite the dimness of the room he could see your chest heaving up and down with troubled breaths. You turned to leave and Steve fell back against his pillows, scrubbing his hand roughly against his face. 

Just as you were about to cross the threshold into the hallway you spun on your heel and faced him again. 

“Steve, I-I’m sorry okay? I don’t know why I can’t be civil with you. I feel like my whole life has been flipped upside down over the past few weeks. And I know I can’t blame you for falling out of love with me… I just can’t- I’m not ready to see you fully over us-” your voice cracked painfully in the back of your throat. 

“Baby…” he sighed sadly, sitting up in his bed. 

You felt tears spring to your eyes, bringing your hands to your face and then dropping them shakily. “I’m sorry.” 

He looked at you sorrowfully as your body finally gave out, succumbing to the tears. Before you could stop yourself your legs carried you towards his bed, falling forward on top of him and wrapping yourself around his body. 

“Please- I just, I need to-” 

You couldn’t bring yourself to finish the sentence but Steve always had a knack for reading your mind and he knew exactly what you meant. You needed to feel him, to hold him again, breathe in his scent, run your fingertips over his skin. He knew because the feeling was all too familiar, he felt it before he shut his eyes every night, before the sun rose through his curtains in the morning, and every moment in between. 

Wordlessly he closed his arms around you and your nose pressed into his bare collarbone. His hands traveled up, threading into your hair, cradling your head against him.

“Breathe,” he cooed. With his chin tucked into your neck you could feel the wet lick of his lips when he spoke. 

“I’m not fully over us,” he admitted. “Not even close.” He laughed, humorlessly, nudging his nose under your ear, “You’re honestly doing my head in.” 

You let your eyes fall shut, wanting to take in every bit of this moment, unsure if you would ever experience anything like it again. 

“I really miss you.” you whispered into the diminutive space between you. 

A pained noise slipped out from Steve at your confession. He wished you could see the bigger picture he had sketched up in his mind, how in a few years he would be a blip in your memory, a single dim star amongst the blinding constellation of your future accomplishments. 

Steve may have been considered slightly ditzy around town but he had never been stupid, he knew you were too good for him, he always knew. From that very first kiss in his BMW four years ago when the two of you were only 16 he knew that the way you felt for him would be temporary. The admiration in your eyes would fade and the curtain would fall. He wasn’t King Steve like he had been in high school, he was just Steve, plain unpromising Steve. 

You had always been gifted, you were going places, you had aspirations. The only aspirations Steve could ever remember having were in regards to you, taking care of you, loving you, putting a ring on your finger, making you his wife, and eventually building a family with you. A loving happy family, nothing like the kind he had grown up with.  

He wanted the best for you, and as much as it fucking devastated him he wasn’t sure that meant him anymore. 

But his resolve was growing thinner, wearing down with each exhale that passed your lips to tickle his skin.  

“I miss you too, honey. So much.”

“But, Donna-” 

“Isn’t looking for anything serious.” he finished for you. “She’s good company but she's not you. No one is.” 

“I don’t understand.” 

“I can’t explain it.” 

“Why not?” you pleaded against him. 

“It’s better this way. I promise, it will be.” 

You nuzzled further into him, “How?” Your lips ghosted his clavicles and he trembled. “How could it be better than this?” 

His leg slotted between your thighs, pressing you into him. You jumped at the feeling, a symphonic sigh exiting you against your will. 

“Shit- sorry.”

You panted and shook your head. “No, don’t be. It’s good.” 

He readjusted in an attempt to put some space between you, feeling himself getting sucked into your hazy arousal rapidly. You felt the familiar outline of his excitement against the side of your legs and he hissed. 

“This would be real fuckin’ selfish of me.” he struggled to say while you chased his lips, yours already pouted in anticipation. He caught your face and held it in place in front of his own, searching for any lingering signs of intoxication, “You’ll never forgive me tomorrow.” 

“I’m fine,” you said honestly. The shower and time passed had sobered you up fine. 

“Doesn’t matter. You’ll hate me for leading you on.” 

“Are you?” 

Steve pondered your question and tried not to let his face show how unsure he was of the answer. Could he really stay away from you? Would either of you ever be able to fully move on from your paramount love? 

You read him like a book and grazed his chest with the tips of your fingers, bringing him back to you. 

“Even if you are, I couldn’t hate you.” 

He swiped his thumb across your eyebrow and watched your eyelids flutter in response. “I hate myself for hurting you.” 

You leaned forward until your noses bumped and spoke into his mouth, “Then make up for it.” 

Finally, Steve closed the space between you with a hungry kiss. His lips were warm and chapped against yours, his teeth scraping against the suppleness of your bottom one to pull your mouth open and allow him to show you just how sorry he was. 

For the first time in weeks you felt your lungs fill with no resistance and strain against your ribcage with a welcome sort of discomfort, like an overfilled balloon you were seconds away from popping and Steve knew it. 

His hips rutted against yours and one of his hands slowly traveled down from the velvet of your cheek to palm roughly at your breast. The feeling made your breath catch in your throat, coaxing a high pitched squeak out of you and Steve smiled against your lips, his teeth knocking yours. 

“Feels good?” he asked. 

“Mhm.” you hummed as he turned his attention to your neck, nipping and kissing the dewy surface. “Always does. You always do.” 

His responsive whimper is slightly muffled by your skin but you bathe in it. 

“You too.” he reciprocated. “I won’t last long if you keep talking like that, you’ll knock my fucking lights out.” 

“Sorry,” you said sweetly, leaving him bewildered at how you could be so sensual and so adorable at the same time. 

You sat up, straddling him. Your hands traveled south to breach the barrier of his waistband and wrap your hand around him. 

He sucked in a pained breath and tugged the shirt barring his view over your head. “M’hurtin, honey. Lemme feel you.” he pleaded. 

You pulled the shorts you wore down your legs leaving you bare and Steve took in the sight as if for the first time. 

His hands caressed your stomach, sliding downwards until they rested firmly on your hips which twitched in anticipation. 

“Somehow I forgot how perfect you are.” he revealed, his words drenched in sincerity. “No one is this perfect,” he pinched your heated skin once and you whined. “You’re a fucking novelty.” 

You stared down at him and wondered if he had ever really looked at himself in the mirror. You scraped your nails lightly down his chest, “You are.” 

He coughed and denied it with the shake of his head, bringing one of your hands to his lips for a loving kiss. “I’m nothing compared to you, baby.” 

Desperate to get on with it you raised yourself above him hovering whilst lining him up to you. Steve watched your face as you nudged his tip against your clit, your eyebrows pulled together and mouth falling into a gaping “O” shape. 

You shimmied forward a little bit and slowly started to sink onto him, pausing as soon as the tip was in. You winced at the stretch and were reminded that it had been a while since you had taken him at all, let alone like this. 

“You okay?” he asked, holding you firmly in place to be sure you didn’t slip any further before you were ready. 

You nodded, but stayed still. “Hurts a lil s’all.” 

Steve kicked himself when he realized he had done nothing to get you ready for him. “I’m sorry, honey. I should’ve prepped you a bit. Hop off a sec.” 

“No,” you protested, letting yourself drop another inch or so. “I didn’t want you to. I jus’ want you inside.” you whined as you sunk all the way down, ignoring the burn in your stomach. 

Steve cursed to the ceiling as you fluttered around him and he forced himself not to lift his hips and grind even further into you. 

He clenched his teeth as he spoke, “Is it painful?” 

“It’s perfect.” you answered in more of a sigh than anything else. 

“Yeah?” he said, reaching forward to circle your clit with the gentle movement of his thumb. 

When you moaned and rolled your hips forward he praised you in a rambled jumble of words.

“Fuck. Holy fuck, baby. You're so good, so so good for me. Shit. Warm and fucking tight. God, am I making you feel good? C’mon talk to me, lemme hear that pretty voice.” 

You nodded, brain fading into a lust filled frenzy. “Feels unreal, Stevie.” 

You tried to raise yourself with shaky legs but he stopped you with a firm grasp. 

“Wha-” 

“You think I’m gonna let you do any of the work tonight? It’s not happening, baby. I’m making it up to you, remember? Lemme make you feel good, hm?” 

He lifted you with hardly any effort and then pulled you down again, the drag of him against your walls pulling a series of sweet moans from you. 

Repeatedly, he bounced you against him, encouraging you with candied praises every time your face pinched in pleasure or you clenched around him, dizzying his head. 

After a few blissful moments you felt a wave of pleasure rush to you like the tide to a shore and you panted out a warning. 

“Stevie- I’m gonna,” 

“You gonna cum for me, honey? C’mon give it to me. I’m right there with you, sweet girl.” 

You shook and cried out as your release drowned you, sweeping Steve into the current right alongside you. 

You collapsed forward in exhaustion and he held you against his sweat slick body, peppering gentle kisses across your forehead. 

“You here w’me?” he whispered. 

“Yes.” you replied, voice light. You pulled yourself off of him and tried not to think about the loss, tried not to think about what would happen now. 

Rolling over next to him you shivered at the cold air on your bare skin and he wordlessly tucked you under his arm and rubbed his hands up and down on your arm, sparking a friction fueled warmth. 

He watched you carefully unable to decipher the thoughts behind your head for what seemed like the first time ever. 

“What’re you thinking about?” 

You swallowed and tilted your head up to look at him. “What happens next.” you admitted. 

He nodded in understanding. “What do you want to happen?” 

“Steve.” you chided. “You know what I want.” 

“Honey…” 

“Do you love me?” 

“Of course I do.” he said shocked. 

“Then what’s exactly the issue with us being together?” 

“It’s complicated. It’s not about me not loving you or not wanting to be with you.” 

“Then what is it?” you demanded, sitting up and pulling your previously discarded shirt over your head. 

He ran his hands through his sweat damp hair in exasperation. “We don’t make sense anymore,” he admitted. 

You bit your lip to hide your hurt and spoke timidly, “Why not?” 

“Our lives are gonna go down really different paths and I don’t want to be the douchebag high school sweetheart that holds you back from everything you’re capable of. I’m gonna end up here, working some mundane job, having a few kids and accomplishing nothing special. And that’s fine, I’m content with that but that’s not you. 

You frowned at him. 

“You’re meant for something bigger. Everyone knows it. I won’t give you some simple life when you deserve a grand one.” 

You felt white hot anger seeping through your skin and pushed yourself off the bed bitterly. Without saying a word in response you started searching the room for your shorts, feet stomping with every step. 

“What are you doing?” he asked, anxiety clear in his voice. 

“I’m leaving.�� you said. 

“It’s the middle of the night.” 

“I don’t care.” you hissed. “You really think you’re helping me by making decisions for me? Do I not get any say in what I want?” 

“Of course you do, that’s what this is about. One day you’re gonna want more than I can offer you. I'm just trying to make it easier for you.” 

“Wow,” you breathed. “You really have no idea what I want then.” 

“So tell me.” 

“Steve.” you said, shimmying your shorts back up your legs. “I want you. No ifs ands or buts. Have I not made that crystal clear the entire time we’ve been together?” 

“You have but-” 

“No, I’m not done. You’re right, I don’t want a simple life. I want to settle down here, in the town we fell in love. I want to marry you and have kids with you. I want to make dinner with you every night and after we eat I want to wash the dishes while you dry. I want to take your clothes out of the dryer and fold them while they’re still warm. I want to kiss you every night before I go to bed and roll over next to you every morning. I want us. A life where we end up together couldn’t be simple because it’s us together, and I love you so much more than any other possible outcome.” 

He stared at you bewildered. “You do?” 

“Yes! I’ve been in absolute hell these last few weeks over this?” 

You approached him and took his hands in yours. 

“Look,” you sighed. “I’m so sorry that people in your life have made you believe that you aren’t the talented, smart, capable and loving man that I know you are but none of them matter when it comes to our relationship. That’s just us, me and you. And I know,” you pressed a hand to your heart. “There’s no one in the world who could give me a better life, or love me better than you. I love you, Steve.” 

He looked up at you, half sorrowfully half hopefully, “Does this mean we’re back together?” 

“Do you want to be?” 

“Of course I do. I’ve been miserable without you.” he replied. 

“And who’s fault is that?” you laughed, the mood in the room beginning to mellow out into the typically comforting setting you were accustomed to when you were with Steve. 

“I’m sorry I ended us and that I tried to make your choices for you.” he said. “I promise I won’t do it again. Oh, and I love you, like more than anything else in the world and I’m fucking devastated that I made you think I didn’t.” 

“I love you too.” you echoed, melting into his arms once again not planning on letting go anytime soon. 

He pressed his nose into your hair and smiled, lopsided. “I’ve got a lot of making up to do, y’know.” 

“Good thing you have the rest of our lives.” 

He tugged you onto the bed making you break into a fit of giggles as he pressed sloppy kisses over your entire face. 

“I think I’ll start right now.” 

[storiesforallfandoms]

one of the guys ~ jimmy smith jr;8 mile

word count: 3481

request?: no

description: she’s always been viewed as just “one of the guys” despite having feelings for one of her friends, and now it’s looking likely that she’s going to lose him to the wannabe model

pairing: jimmy smith jr. x female!reader

warnings: swearing, pining

masterlist (one, two, three)

I had known Jimmy and Future since we were a bunch of snot nosed kids causing trouble on the playground in elementary school. Cheddar Bob was next, having followed us around like a lost puppy until we finally adopted him. Iz and Sol joined our little group in high school, and then we were complete.

For as long as I had known the guys, they considered me to be...well, one of the guys. Even after I went through puberty and actually started looking like a girl, I was still just one of the guys. It didn’t bother me for the most part. When you’re a kid, it doesn’t really matter if you’re a boy or a girl. We all played the same, caused trouble the same. But when we hit puberty, I found myself not liking being considered “one of the guys” anymore.

Especially when I realized I had feelings for Jimmy.

Don’t get me wrong, I loved being a part of the friend group and I couldn’t ask for a better set of friends. What I definitely could ask for, though, was for those friends to recognize I was a woman and treat me as such. Namely, I wished Jimmy would realize that.

One Friday evening, just like every Friday evening, I had just pulled into my driveway and was walking up to my front door when I heard another car pulling up behind me. I didn’t have to turn around to know it was Future.

“Get your ass changed, we’re going out!” he called.

“Future, I just got home,” I said.

“So?”

“So maybe I don’t want to go out with you chuckle fucks after I just worked an eight hour shift.”

“We both know that’s not the truth.”

I rolled my eyes, but I couldn’t stop the smile on my face. He was right, I did want to go out. We went out every Friday night. It was a group tradition at this point. If I was seriously turning it down, there’d have to be something wrong with me.

“Give me 10 minutes,” I told Future before slipping into my house to change.

I was in and out in less time than I told him. I just changed out of my work clothes and into jeans and a t-shirt, and was ready to go again. I got into the passenger seat of Future’s car and he didn’t even wait for me to buckle myself in before he was backing out of my driveway and driving off to get the others.

“I fear for my life every time I get in the car with you,” I joked as I managed to buckle my seatbelt.

“Well, lucky for you, Jimmy agreed to drive tonight. His car can hold more people anyways.”

“Who else is going with us?”

“Just the usual.”

I looked over at Future in confusion. His tone definitely made me think there was someone else coming along for the night, but it seemed he wasn’t going to tell me. I couldn’t figure out who could possibly be joining us that Future wouldn’t want to tell me about beforehand.

We pulled into the trailer park and parked next to Jimmy’s car. Jimmy was exiting his trailer before we were even out of the car, as usual. Jimmy was usually waiting for us to show up and would be itching to leave his mom’s place as soon as he could. Jimmy gave Future one of their high five hugs, and patted me on the shoulder. It was just a step up from me also getting a high five hug, but not by much.

We got into Jimmy’s car, all three of us in the front. We started for Iz and Sol first, then Cheddar Bob. Once the car was full it was nothing but noise as each of the guys was talking over one another with Jimmy’s radio blaring as extra noise.

“How was work, by the way?” Jimmy asked me over the current argument between Future and Sol.

“Same bullshit as always,” I responded.

“I guess we should be lucky you even agreed to come out with us after working all day, meanwhile all we do is sit on our asses like a bunch of bums.”

I playfully nudged his shoulder. “Hey, you work, too.”

“I wouldn’t consider the Stamping work.”

I chuckled. I noticed then that we weren’t headed for the club. “Where are we going?”

“To pick up Alex.”

I felt my heart drop to my stomach. I looked over at Future. I couldn’t tell if he was actually deep in conversation with Iz or if he was just ignoring me. So this was who was joining us that he didn’t want to tell me about.

Alex.

She was a girl Jimmy had met at his work. She was a model apparently, or was trying to be one. Jimmy didn’t talk about her much, but the other guys didn’t waste a single moment in teasing him about her. It didn’t take a genius to realize he liked her.

Alex was waiting as Jimmy pulled up. She was wearing her usual mini skirt so short that you could basically see everything whenever she moved. It made me feel very self conscious about my choice in jeans.

Future opened the door and got out.

“What the fuck are you doing?” I asked. I already knew the answer and hoped he’d see the look of begging on my face.

“I’ll get in the back with the idiots,” he said. “I’d assume Alex will be more comfortable pressed up against you instead of Sol.”

“Yo, fuck you!” Sol snapped.

I hoped my clenched jaw would go unnoticed as Alex slid into the seat next to me. Her eyes immediately went to Jimmy and they shared a smile that made me wish I could throw myself from the moving car.

We got to the club and piled into our usual table while Future got the first round of shots. Cheddar Bob and Iz were sat on one end, I was in the middle, Jimmy and Alex were sat next to me, and Sol had pulled up a chair. When Future returned, he slid in next to Cheddar Bob. The table chorused with cheers as we held up our shots then shot them back.

I tried to play it cool, but having to sit next to Alex and Jimmy while they were flirting up a storm was making me more tense by the minute. When Sol offered to get the next round of drinks, I jumped to give him the money to buy me two of the strongest drinks he could for me. I downed the first one quickly, but took my time with the second. It didn’t take long for the shot and the first drink to kick in. My head was spinning and I felt care free and light as air.

At some point, when the drinks had hit me hard enough, I shoved against Iz’s shoulder and said (or rather slurred), “Hey, can you guys move? I gotta pee.”

“Yo, go the other way,” Future said. “There’s three of us here and only two on your other side.”

“You’re gonna break the dam this early in the night?” Sol asked. “You may as well sit on the end when you come out. You’ll be back and forth for the next few hours.”

“Look, I don’t care who moves and I don’t care where I sit when I come back, I just have to pee now.”

“Here, we’ll move,” Jimmy said.

He and Alex moved out of the booth and allowed me to get out. When I stood, I realized just how drunk I already was as I almost immediately lost my balance. I felt someone grab hold of me as the rest of the table chorused in laughter at my drunkenness. When I looked up, it was Jimmy that had taken hold of me. I smiled at him and he smiled back.

“I’m getting you water when you come back,” he said. “And you gotta pace yourself.”

“You’re always looking out for me,” I said. “You’re such a good friend.”

I put emphasis on the friend for my own benefit, but there was also some level of petty in the word. A reminder for both of us that that was the only way he saw me: as a friend. One of the guys that he went out drinking with every weekend, that he smoked with in the basement of someone’s house, that he ran around Detroit with causing mayhem since we were tykes.

I saw a look flash across his face that I couldn’t quite decipher, but I assumed I was just seeing things in my drunken haze.

I managed to make it to the bathroom on my own without incident. Once I was safely inside of a stall, I was able to sit down again. I almost didn’t want to get up and go back out to the table. Sitting was safe. The world didn’t spin when I was sat down. But I also couldn’t be sat on the toilet in a club bathroom all night either. I knew Sol was right about me going back and forth to the bathroom now that I had broken the dam, but if I put enough time between this bathroom visit and the next, maybe the spinning wouldn’t be as bad by then.

When I stepped out of the stall to wash my hands, I jumped to see that someone was waiting there.

Alex.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” she said.

I waved away her apology. “It’s fine. I just didn’t hear anyone else come in.”

I stepped around her to wash my hands. She turned to face me as I did. “Listen, I need to talk to you about something.”

I looked up at her and raised an eyebrow. “Okay?”

“Is there anything going on between you and Jimmy?”

The question took me by surprise. Why would she think there was anything between us? In all the time that Jimmy had known Alex, I had only met her once before after the lot of us had run into her at a house party. I remembered Jimmy only having eyes for her that night, too. There was no reason I could even fathom that she would believe Jimmy and I had a thing going on when he was so clearly into her.

“No,” I said. “He’s my best friend. Has been since we were kids.”

“And that’s it? Just friendship?”

“Yeah. What’s this about?”

She sighed. “I really like Jimmy, and I thought he liked me, too. But he’s never really asked me out or anything yet. I didn’t know if maybe you two had a thing going on and I read the whole situation wrong. I’ve known far too many guys who claim to be just friends with a girl and turns out they’re actually fucking around.”

Trust me, I wish that’s what was going on here.

Against my better judgement, I put my hands on Alex’s shoulders and said, “If you really like Jimmy and you want things to be more serious, maybe you should make the first move.”

She looked as though she had never even considered that option. “You think so? That won’t seem too...direct?”

“Who gives a shit? Why do men always have to be the ones to make the first move? Most of them are fucking idiots anyways and wouldn’t know if a girl liked them even if she was telling him to his face.” Alex chuckled. “If you want him, go get him.”

She nodded. I was taken by surprise when she suddenly pulled me into a hug. I reluctantly patted her on the back and tried to put the best smile I could muster on my face.

“You’re the best,” she said. “I think we’re going to be great friends.”

I bit my tongue as she hurried out the bathroom door.

That interaction was enough to sober me up more than I wanted. I could feel myself tearing up, but tried to fight it back. I turned to lean against the sink and looked up at myself in the mirror. I couldn’t help but notice everything that Alex had that I didn’t: gorgeous face, sexy voice, body of a model. I couldn’t even dream of leaving the house in a skirt as short as hers without feeling completely embarrassed and exposed. Of course Jimmy would like her, and of course he was going to say yes when she asked him to go out with her.

I hung my head as the tears slipped from my eyes and ran down my face into the sink. I prayed no one would come into the bathroom and find me here crying, and luckily someone was looking out for me because no one did. Once I felt like I had cried myself dry, I quickly splashed my face with cold water and tried to pretend everything was alright. I figured everyone was going to question where I had been for so long, but I didn’t feel like coming up with a fake answer to tell them. If I told them to fuck off, they wouldn’t pry.

My steps faltered a little when I exited the bathroom and saw that Alex and Jimmy were missing from the table. I was tempted to go right to the bar and get another drink, but I pushed through and went back to my group of friends.

“Hey, you good?” Future asked as I sat down in the booth.

“Yeah, just sobered up a little,” I responded. “Where did Jimmy and Alex go?”

“Alex asked to talk to him in private,” Cheddar Bob responded. “But that was a while ago, so who knows where they are now.”

I noticed both Future and Iz elbow him, causing him to spill some of his drink on himself. I didn’t care to imagine where Jimmy had taken Alex after she asked him out. I didn’t need to have that image burned in my mind for the rest of the night.

Everyone went back to their conversations, but I found myself not paying any attention to them. I kept glancing around the club, expecting to see Jimmy and Alex tucked away in a private corner, sucking face as if they were trying to blend into one person. Or maybe they’d be on the dance floor, practically dry humping in front of everyone. I didn’t think Jimmy was one to dance, but Alex had enough allure that she could’ve probably convinced him. But I didn’t see them, and that almost made it all worse.

Eventually I stood from the table suddenly, bringing everyone’s attention to me. “I need some air.”

“Do you want one of us to come with you?” Cheddar Bob asked.

“No, I’ll be fine,” I said. I turned and quickly made for the exit.

Once I was outside, I breathed in the cool night air. It filled my lungs, but it didn’t seem to help soothe me at all.

“You alright?”

“Jesus!” I hissed as I turned towards the voice. It was Jimmy, leaning up against the club. “What the hell are you doing out here?”

“Free country,” he said with a shrug. “Are you good?”

“Just needed air. It felt very stuffy inside.”

I walked over to stand next to him. The rough brick wall dug into my back through my t-shirt. It was cool out, but not enough to make me feel like I needed a jacket or anything. I was standing so close to Jimmy that I could feel the heat coming from his body anyways.

“Where’s Alex?” I asked. “The guys said you two went off to talk in private.”

“She left,” he responded.

I looked at him in shock. “What? And went where?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know. Home, I guess?”

“Don’t you think you should’ve driven her? It’s not exactly the safest for her to be walking alone at night.”

“I offered, but she turned it down. Said she didn’t wanna see me ever again.”

I’ve definitely missed a lot of things here. “What happened?”

Jimmy sighed. “Well, she got up and went to the bathroom after you, said something about wanting to make sure you were okay where you were so drunk. Then when she came back she asked me if we could talk in private. She brought me outside and told me how she had been waiting for me to ask her out properly since we first met and she was tired of waiting, so she made the first move to ask me if I wanted to go on an official date with her.”

“And you said...”

He looked at me for a second before responding, “No. Obviously.”

Well, yeah, it was obvious that he said no. But what wasn’t obvious was why he had said no.

“I thought you were into her,” I said.

He laughed. “Who told you that?”

I shrugged. “The guys seemed convinced you were.”

“The guys don’t know shit about shit. They just like talking a big game and making fun of each other.” I just looked at him, waiting to see if there was any more he had to say. He looked at me then away again. “No, I’m not into her. She’s beautiful, yes, but I don’t see her that way.”

“Wait, so if you don’t see her like that, then why did you invite her tonight?”

“I didn’t. She was at the Stamping today and asked if she could come along. I guess this was her plan.”

Well, it wasn’t her plan until I told her to go after Jimmy, but I wasn’t about to tell him that.

I felt like everything had just been flipped upside down. I was so sure that Jimmy had been reciprocating Alex’s feelings. It seemed like that anyways. Or maybe it seemed like that because I was making it seem that way. I was projecting something onto the two of them that wasn’t really there, I guess because of my jealousy?

“Sucks that she didn’t handle the rejection well,” I said.

“It wasn’t the rejection, it was the reason I rejected her.”

My brows furrowed together. “The reason being...you didn’t like her like that?”

“No. Well...yes. Kind of.”

“You know, for a man who can freestyle, you’re god awful with your words right now.”

He laughed and lightly nudged me with his shoulder. “It was the reason I said I don’t have feelings for her. I told her that I don’t like her because I like someone else and she didn’t handle that very well.”

I could feel my stomach turning to knots again. “Oh? Didn’t like the competition?”

“No, she said something along the lines of she should’ve trusted her gut, and that all guys who hang out with girls end up fucking them in the end.”

It took a second for what he said to register in my brain. When it did, I thought back to Alex talking to me in the bathroom and asking me if there was anything going on between Jimmy and I because she knew of too many guys who were friends with girls who they were actually fucking. Then, I put the pieces together in my head.

When I turned to look at Jimmy again, he was already watching me, waiting for me to come to the conclusion. “Me?!”

“Jesus, that took you long enough.”

“What do you mean that took me long enough?! Why the fuck haven’t you told me?!”

“Because you’re my best friend! We’ve known each other since kindergarten. If I told you I liked you and you didn’t like me back, that would fuck everything up between us and within the friend group. I would rather feel this way in silence than risk losing you as a friend.”

“If you had told me I would’ve told your dumbass that I like you, too, and I have since high school.”

“Wait...for real?”

I rolled my eyes. “Yes, for real!”

We both stood in silence. We shared a look, and then a smile broke out on Jimmy’s face. I couldn’t help but mirror it, and soon we were both laughing. With the absurdity of the situation, we couldn’t not laugh.

“We’re both dumbasses,” I said between fits of laughter.

“I guess so,” Jimmy agreed. “That brings up the question, though, of where do we go from here?”

“Well, I think we try a date, just the two of us and not those other idiots in there, and we see how things progress from there.”

He smiled. “Okay, I like that idea.”

“And we promise that if things don’t work out, we stay friends.”

“And we don’t tell the guys about any of this.”

I laughed. “Okay deal.”

[ashonheavenscloud]

just right || k. seungmin

⋆｡𖦹°⭒˚｡⋆ contents: kim seungmin x fem!reader, established relationship, smut (minors dni!), seungmin is simultaneously a sweetheart and a tease <3

⋆｡𖦹°⭒˚｡⋆ word count: 3.7K

⋆｡𖦹°⭒˚｡⋆ warnings: swearing, 18+ explicit content, softdom!seungmin, virgin!reader, protected sex, HEAVY praise, fingering, implications of aftercare, it’s all very soft and vanilla and ahdhjshdjdbfjfn

⋆｡𖦹°⭒˚｡⋆ a/n: another repost while i’m swamped with essays and can’t write very much🫠 this is one of my favourite smut pieces i’ve posted. enjoy!

now playing: irene - jimmy brown

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It just… didn’t look right.

You tried twisting in the bedroom mirror, striking vague poses to try and like the lace two-piece you’d been hoping to surprise Seungmin with. You’d been so confident in the store, under special dim lighting and in a red and black changing room, but coming home and trying it on again… it felt way different. Mainly because now it was sinking in that Seungmin was coming home in ten minutes, and he would actually see you in this skimpy, black lace lingerie.

It wasn’t like Seungmin hadn’t ever seen you wear something scandalous. But a lingerie set was way different than a short skirt or a sloping neckline. The implication was obvious, and besides brief discussion you hadn’t really… done anything in terms of sex. You wanted too- you really wanted to- and this had been your idea to make it easier for yourself. If you felt sexy, it wouldn’t be as intimidating, right?

Shit, what had you been thinking? You smoothed your hands over the fabric, feeling stupid. 

The front door lock clicked, and immediately your heart skipped several beats, your feet frozen as you listened to the door open and Seungmin call from out in the hallway, “Baby?”

Shit, shit, shit-

You felt caught for some reason, even though this has literally been the plan. You just hadn’t expected to chicken out last minute. Your eyes scanned the room, and found one of Seungmin’s white shirts on the bed. After a split second of hesitation, you cursed under your breath and pulled it over your head. It barely reached your mid thighs, and you were about to dig around for a pair of pants when Seungmin knocked on the closed door. 

“Baby?” 

You froze, and for some reason you hesitated. Why shouldn’t you let Seungmin in? A large part of you, in spite of your self-consciousness, wanted to see his reaction. You wanted to know what would happen, what he would do, what you would do if given the chance…

And your lack of response was enough of a response for Seungmin to slowly open the door and peek in.

You didn’t know what to do with any part of your body, so you just stood there and tried to ignore the heat flooding to your face. Seungmin was staring at you, eyes roaming up and down your body, and you again felt so, so stupid. You fidgeted with the edge of the shirt, pulling it down. “H-hi.”

“Hi, baby.” Seungmin’s lips slowly turned into a sideways grin. He looked endeared, and you couldn’t help but feel even more embarrassed. “What are you doing?”

He slowly slipped into the room and closed the door behind him, and you kind of wished you could melt through the ground. “I…”

His hands slipped up your arms to cup your elbows and pull you a couple steps closer to him. Your breath held as your eyes met his, sparkling. He giggled. “Baby, what are you wearing?”

Something about his hands holding you made it a lot easier to relax, but you still winced, eyes shutting. “Ugh. I had this stupid idea…”

“Trust me, whatever this is, it is not stupid.” Seungmin grinned, and you whined. 

“I just wanted to look… sexy, but it looks wrong.” You mumbled out, feeling your face again flush dramatically. “I just thought this would make it easier to try…”

Seungmin raised an eyebrow, looking a bit amused, and you wanted to hit him for that. Geez, just because he was experienced… 

“Try what?” He teased, and you really did hit him this time, half-playfully punching his shoulder.

“Sex, doofus.” You grumbled, hiding your face with your hands.. “I… just thought if I felt pretty… but I’m not, so…”

“Hey, wait a minute-”

One of his hands reached to cup your chin, and tilt your face to look up at him. His smile was gone, brows knit with concern.

“You are pretty.”

You laughed, unbelievingly. “Yeah. Tell that to the mirror.”

You glanced at your reflection, the t-shirt you’d thrown on haphazardly, your bare legs and the peek of your ass. You just felt… so unflattering in all of it.

Seungmin was silent for a moment, and you were beginning to feel cold and exposed. The mantra repeated in your head: stupid, stupid, stupid-

“Can I take this off, baby?”

Seungmin’s fingers were cold as they slid under the hem of your shirt to gently tug on the material. His whole body leaned into you, like you were a magnet and he was steel, and his breath was warm on your cheek as he pressed a small kiss to your eyelid. Butterflies rose in your throat at the small touch, and shot right down to your stomach when his other hand slipped to grip the shirt.

“Please? If you’re okay with it?”

Slowly, you nodded, letting Seungmin lift your arms above your head to pull off the shirt. You were left in the black lace set, and instantly you felt your eyes move to the mirror.

Seungmin immediately cupped your chin, keeping your eyes on him. His gaze was so gentle as he softly smiled. “Come here…”

He drew you back and gently sat you on the bed so your back was against the pillows. He knelt beside you, slipping off his shirt. He was lean and toned, not necessarily muscular but fit and defined.

“Now we’re even.” He smiled shyly, and you couldn’t help but smile back at his sweetness. He reached for you, one hand slipping behind your back and the other cradling your jaw as he kissed you. You sighed, eyes flickering shut as you let yourself lose sense of time and space in the kiss, in the gentle press of his mouth, the firmness of his jaw as your thumb crept up to brush over his cheek.

Soon, his lips left yours- only to find their way slowly down your neck. You gasped, shivering at his touch against your sensitive spots, surprised by the way it made your insides squirm and tingle. He hummed, pleased, and kissed down farther.

Your eyes popped open when his lips met the hill of your right breast, hovering by the lace. He paused there, glancing up at you, gauging your reaction. 

“I want to…” He was drawn down, almost against his will, to place a slow kiss on your breast. You inhaled, feeling your legs tense together, but Seungmin slipped a hand between your thighs to keep them apart.

His eyes found yours again, breaths hot over your skin. “I want to make you feel how much I love you. How beautiful I think you are. How fucking gorgeous you look with this on…” He whispered, one finger playing with the strap of your lace bra. “And how much it drives me crazy.”

He was smiling again, and your whole body felt on fire. God, did you want him to do all those things. You wanted to feel him, know what it was like to be touched and teased. Especially because it was Seungmin, someone you trusted, and someone you knew wanted it just as bad. 

“I want you.” You whispered, feeling your face heat at the words. 

Seungmin noticed your shyness, and his smile turned mischievous. He leaned forward to inch the bra strap off your shoulder, kissing his way over your skin all the while. “Want me to… what?”

Oh, the cheeky bastard. He knew exactly what you meant, he just wanted to hear you say it. You opened your mouth to respond, cheeks burning. “I want…”

Seungmin had paused to watch you expectantly, a glint in his eyes. You looked away, whining. “Just touch me, please- god-”

“Where?” He teased, slipping his fingers behind your back to unclip your bra, and you shivered at his feather light touches. Fuck. 

He released the clip, and you felt your heart jolt in anticipation. Already, you could feel your body growing excited for him to touch you everywhere. Actually saying it was another thing, though, and Seungmin knew that. He was grinning, waiting, hand just barely cupping your clothed right breast, thumb resting over the fabric right where your nipple was-

“There. There, please-” You tried, but he only chuckled, brushing over the fabric, barely doing anything. It was hardly any friction, and it was driving you insane. You weren’t bold enough for words. You weren’t bold enough for any of this- and maybe that was Seungmin’s intention. To see if he could push you enough to do it anyway.

You reached one hand to slip the second strap off your shoulder, all while Seungmin watched intently. Taking a breath for confidence, you pulled the bra away in one swift motion, letting it fly off somewhere out of reach. You didn’t watch to see where it went, ignoring your flaming cheeks and whispering, “Fuck, Seungmin. Where do you think I want you to touch?”

Seungmin grinned, and immediately ducked down to take your right nipple in his mouth, softly mouthing the sensitive bud and making you whine and squirm, eyes squeezing shut. Every sensation went right to your core, making your legs tense together- although Seungmin made sure to keep your thighs apart with one hand. 

“Easy, baby.” He murmured, breath hot, mouth hot, tongue fucking hot as he slowly sucked. At the same time, his hand slipped lower, fingers running over the edges of your lace panties. Without meaning to, you lifted your hips to his touch, which made Seungmin groan in the back of his throat. “Fuck…”

He lifted his head, leaning forward to press his lips firmly against yours, and your arms wound around his neck, fingers threading through his soft brown locks. You gently tugged and were rewarded with the most beautiful sound you’d ever heard; a low moan absolutely dripping with pleasure and lust. Your head was spinning, lost in his kiss and touch and another gentle groan when you pulled at his hair again, massaging his scalp with your fingertips. 

His fingers were inching farther down, and he briefly broke apart to breathe and whisper, “Are you okay? We don’t have to do anything unless-”

“I trust you.” You responded, and you didn’t hesitate to say it. You weren’t a confident person, you never had been- but in this moment, it didn’t matter. Seungmin’s hand cupping your jaw to draw you to him for another kiss, and his fingers slipping to pull down your panties, made you feel desired. You’d never wanted this more.

Your panties were quickly discarded, and Seungmin slid out of his pants, and your eyes instantly snapped to the bulge in his boxers. You swallowed, feeling a bit intimidated.

Seungmin glanced up at your face. “It’s okay, we can take things as slow as you’d like. Just tell me what you’re comfortable with.”

You slowly nodded, and Seungmin hovered over you again, pressing a slow kiss to your shoulder, one hand reaching to find yours. He intertwined your fingers, kissing your knuckles before propping your arm above your head. He used his other hand to gently massage your thighs apart, edging closer to your tingling core.

“Just relax, baby, I’ve got you…”

You shivered, doing your best to release tension from your body as Seungmin pressed two fingers against your slit. He chuckled. “My baby, you’re so wet for me.”

You squeezed your eyes shut, embarrassed by how absolutely horny you were. “Sorry.”

“Sorry? Babe, it’s fucking hot.” Seungmin promised, sliding one finger up and down your slit, making you gasp. The friction felt unbelievably good.

“Feels nice?” Seungmin asked, and you nodded quickly. 

“R-really good, oh my god.”

“You feel good too, baby.” Seungmin whispered, forefinger dragging through your folds before circling your hole. You tensed, the feeling foreign, and Seungmin sensed it. “Relax, love. It’s okay.”

Somehow you let your body sink into the mattress, and Seungmin slowly eased a finger inside of you. You instantly sucked in a breath, your free hand gripping the sheets beside you, the other clinging to Seungmin’s.

“That’s it… good girl,” he murmured, squeezing your hand in return as he slipped his finger in deeper. You shivered, eyes squeezing shut as your body tried to get used to the unfamiliar feeling. Not to say that it felt at all bad; the more you adjusted to it, the better it felt. The friction to your walls, the ridges of his finger, every small touch sent shockwaves of pleasure through your body. You had to bite your lip to keep quiet when he pulled back before slipping back in; you clenched around him, chest heaving.

Seungmin leaned forward to kiss you again, lips moulding against yours slowly as he set a languid pace, palm beginning to brush up against your pussy. You were starting to struggle with keeping quiet, small bursts of sounds forming in the back of your throat. Seungmin dropped your lips briefly to whisper, “Let me hear you. I want to hear you, bet you sound so pretty…”

And when his thumb started rubbing your clit, you couldn’t hold it anymore. Whines and moans quietly tumbled from your lips as Seungmin kissed you deeper, chest meeting your own, gently pushing you into the mattress. His openmouthed kisses tasted like heaven, and you weaved a hand into his hair to pull him closer, groaning at the feel of his hot breath on your skin.

“I knew you’d have the prettiest moans.” Seungmin whispered, smiling against your lips like he wasn’t saying that while his finger was knuckle deep inside of you. “You’re perfect, baby… you’re doing so well for me…”

He slid in another finger with the next thrust, making you gasp and clutch at his hair. The sensation elicited the sweetest groan from Seungmin, who seemed caught off guard. 

“You l-like that?” He asked after a second, seeming to catch his breath.

You nodded, legs tensing at the extra stretch. But that hadn’t been the only thing you’d liked; you’d also loved when Seungmin made that sound. While he’d been teasing you this whole time, it was hard not to let your eyes wander to the boner outlined by his sweats-

Experimentally, you fisted his hair again, tugging at the strands with the next thrust. Instantly Seungmin hissed, eyes closing, head pulling back from your face. “Shit, baby…”

You blurted out, “Can- can I touch you?”

Seungmin paused, eyes jolting up to meet yours, clearly surprised. He seemed to process your question while you tried your hardest not to look as flustered as you felt. But you were curious- if he could make you feel this good, could you do the same for him?

“If you want to.” Seungmin said slowly, sitting back for a second. His fingers were still, except for his thumb lightly dragging up and down your slit. 

You nodded, too shy to ask again, and Seungmin’s face broke into a grin. “You’re adorable.” He whispered, using his free hand to undo the drawstring and slip out of his sweats.

You sat up, legs stretching out on either side of Seungmin as he pulled out his cock, tip shining with a bit of precum. You couldn’t help but stare, fascinated and at the same time surprised by his size. The outline in his pants had been telling, but still…

Almost on its own will, your hand reached forward and you lightly brushed two fingers along the shaft. Seungmin squeezed his eyes shut, body tensing, lips pressed together to keep from making any sound. But he couldn’t help but slip a small, shaky, “Shit…” when your thumb touched his tip.

You repeated the motion, rewarded with a soft groan from Seungmin, who lifted his hips to meet your touch. His dick pulsed, and your core clenched at the sight, at the idea of him deep inside you, filling every inch of you…

Seungmin’s eyes met yours, and understanding flashed in his eyes. He slowly licked his bottom lip, and whispered, “Tell me what you want, baby.”

His fingers were back at work, moving slowly back and forth. You clenched, and barely managed. “I want you in me… o-oh-”

His fingers curled perfectly, making your eyes roll back. Then Seungmin slipped them out, admiring the wetness coating them. He fisted his cock while the other hand whipped out a condom from the side table. He rolled the condom up his length before crawling back over you. His knees held your legs apart, and you gasped when you felt the tip of his cock prod your entrance. He balanced over you with one elbow beside your head, the other above, hand gently grabbing onto yours.

“Two squeezes if something’s wrong or you want me to stop, okay?” He whispered and you nodded, panting, heat swimming through your body. Seungmin kissed you gently, hovering over your lips for a second longer before carefully slipping inside of you.

Your breath escaped you in a moan, the stretch equal parts painful and pleasuring. Seungmin took his time, keeping a careful eye on your expression as he pushed. You whimpered at his size, and he paused halfway, squeezing your hand. “Okay?”

You nodded, breathless. “Just… a lot.”

He nodded, gently leaning down to kiss you, hovering just above you when he pulled back. “Tell me when.”

You nodded back, letting your body get used to him and his massive size, allowing yourself to relax. You could feel Seungmin pulsing inside you, could see the film over his eyes that proved how insane he felt just from being inside. And as weird as it was for you, not used to the feeling- it was amazing.

You squeezed his hand once, and whispered. “Okay.”

Seungmin met your eyes, breath holding for a second as he looked at you. Then his forehead dipped to meet yours as he slowly pushed, pressing in deeper, and you saw stars as his dick filled every inch of you, static fizzing in your mind.

“Oh f-fuck…” you heard Seungmin groan, breath on your face. “You’re so damn t-tight, oh my god…”

You couldn’t respond, chest heaving, core tingling at the very new and wonderful sensation of Seungmin’s cock buried inside of you, twitching and rubbing over your sensitive walls, You shivered when he shifted slightly, and a small whimper shot from your lips. Instantly Seungmin’s eyes had locked on yours, concern flashing in them. But when he realized you were okay- more than okay- his mouth broke into a small smile.

“How do you feel?” He whispered, kissing along the side of your face and down to your neck. You quickly clung to his brown locks as he pushed his hips against yours, and your core fluttered around him, thighs tensing around his waist.

“G-good, oh-” you broke of in a moan, as he rocked over you again, lips firmly attaching to the junction of your neck and shoulder.

“You’re so fucking good, love.” He breathed against your skin, slipping out slightly and pushing slowly back in. Your toes curled at the depths he reached, at the fullness he gave you, at the stinging hickey he was leaving at the base of your throat. “Doing so, so well. Taking this dick like it was made for you. God, I think it was.” 

Your breathing hitched with another firm thrust, and you both moaned in unison. Slowly, Seungmin picked up the pace, hips forming a fluid in-and-out motion that had you seeing stars. He whispered soft praises against your skin while you shuddered, knot building in your gut, uncontrollable moans and whimpers falling past your lips. To Seungmin, it was like music.

Your hands roamed the expanse of his shoulders, and he clutched at your hand with his while the other grabbed your waist, rubbing circles over your stomach.  He let his thumb slip down to your clit to rub the sensitive nerves and your back arched off the bed, body roaring with heat.

“Seungmin, there- there-” you moaned, hand flying to the sheets to grip onto, while the other held tightly to his hand. Seungmin’s grip tightened in response, and you could see his body shaking, sweat glistening over his honey skin. His movements were coming sloppier, more sporadic.

Your walls clenched, and you nearly screamed to words, “Shit, Seungmin, I-”

“I know, god,” he moaned. “Close, huh?”

You nodded, eyes squeezing shut, tension burning in your gut. Seungmin gave you several more quick snaps of his hips before you were breaking, white blazing behind your eyelids as you released, pleasure drowning you with a heavy moan from Seungmin’s throat.

“That’s my girl, come on- ah, fuck-”

His hips stuttered as he released too, shooting his cum into the condom, shuddering as his high washed over him. After a second of heavy breathing, he slipped out and you opened your eyes, breathless.

He immediately leaned forward, cupping your cheeks and pulling you into a soft, slow kiss. You felt exhausted, but deliriously happy, when he pulled back to look at you with a loving smile on his face.

“You okay? How do you feel?”

“Really good.” You promised in a whisper, taking one of his hands gently in his. “Thank you, that was… wow.”

“Thank you for trusting me.” Seungmin said quietly, again softly kissing your lips. “You look beautiful. I always think so. And you make me so happy, every part of you. Not just your body,” and he smiled shyly, “but I hope I was able to show you with mine that I love you so much.”

You didn’t trust yourself to speak after that, deciding instead to pull him close and hold him tight, kissing gently across his shoulder. “I love you, too.” You eventually whispered, and Seungmin’s grip tightened.

“How about I run you a bath, hmm?” He leaned back to kiss your forehead.

You nodded, letting him help you back on your feet, legs already sore from the workout. On the way, Seungmin paused, and you looked at him questioningly.

“What?”

“Just thinking,” Seungmin grinned. “you should wear sets like that more often-”

You punched his shoulder lightly, blush rising on your face. Seungmin merely laughed and lead you with him into the bathroom, still a lot of loving left to do.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

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[jordyn14]

Hiii

No worries if you can’t but if your able to can you please write a Joe x pregnant reader. Where Joe and reader are married and the Bengals make it to the Super Bowl but reader goes into labor during the game but doesn’t tell Joe so he starts to freak out when he doesn’t see her in the suite.

A new addition pt1 | Joe Burrow

Pairing: Joe burrow x fem first person

Words: 4066

Notes: I didn’t know if you wanted the whole labor process, but I decided to add it in. I hope you enjoy!! <3

I knew it was a bad idea to go to the Super Bowl despite being almost 39 weeks pregnant. Instead of staying home and watching the game like a normal pregnant person would, I decided to go to the game even though my do date is in just 2 weeks and I had a feeling I was going to give birth early. Now, I’m sitting in the suite, 37 weeks pregnant, praying that my water doesn’t break while watching the final quarter of the game. Throughout most of this game, I have been cramping, and it’s worse than usual. Normally they weren’t this painful, but it’s gotten so bad to the point where I’ve had to get up and pace the room a few times while Jimmy and Robin watched in confusion. Honestly, I was nervous. What if I was going into labor while Joe was still playing and he was going to miss the birth of our first child?

All of these thoughts were going through my head which were making the whole situation worse. Finally, Robin asked me what was wrong after I tensed up and started pacing around the room again. I told her that I was starting to cramp and it was pretty painful, so we started to count how long they lasted together. As I watched Joe who was playing absolutely amazing, I was getting more and more nervous that he would miss the birth of his child. I needed him during labor. I couldn’t do this without him.

After we started counting the contractions, I could tell Robin was getting more and more concerned that they were labor contractions. Then, a really bad one washed over me and I held my stomach. “Robin, it’s bad.” I said and clenched my jaw while groaning. Robin grabbed onto my arm to comfort me and looked quickly between me and Jimmy. I turned back to Jimmy to see him standing there with his hands on his hips, watching me nervously. “These are definitely contractions. We should go to the hospital. By the time you get settled in, Joe should be done with the game.” She said. I bit my lip and looked back at Joe who was putting it all out on the field. His jersey was all green from getting sacked so many times, yet the game was going their way. They really might win it.

“I can’t leave. Joe’s going to expect me down on that field when they win. There’s no way I can go to the hospital.” I said, feeling some relief when the contraction was over, though I knew another one would start soon. “We’ll have to let him know that you’re going to the hospital.” She said. “There’s no way to tell him. He doesn’t have a phone down there. Robin…we had it all planned out. I can’t give birth without my husband in a hospital without my midwife and doula. No way.” I said. “Everything will be okay, I promise you. We’ll find a way to contact Joe and once they see Burrow by your name, they’ll give you the best medical staff at the hospital.” She said. After I nodded my head nervously, she stood up and walked over to Jimmy, saying something to him that I couldn’t quite make out.

All I could do was look out onto the field at Joe. We’ve been waiting for these two moments forever. The first was when Joe won his first Super Bowl and I got to go down on the field with him and celebrate and throw around confetti, and the second was when Joe got to witness the birth of his child and cut the umbilical cord. With the way we were going, we might never get to experience these moments, and that crushed me. Hell, we didn’t even pick out a name for our baby yet. Our plan was to pick names this week so when we found out the gender when the baby was born he or she already had a name, but now the baby won’t even have a name. What a nightmare.

“Alright…are you ready?” Robin asked me. Looking at the field one last time, I nodded and stood up, but not before a huge contraction washed over me. I tensed up and let out a small groan as Robin rushed to me and let me put some weight on her as we walked out of the suite and headed to the car. As we walked out, I grabbed onto Robin with one hand and with the other, I held my phone with was playing the game the Bengals were sure to win. The amazing season Joe had and the winning streak he was about to continue would end with him not having any family to celebrate with, and he would have to come to the hospital to his baby that was already born. I groaned when another contraction hit me. They were getting worse. “We’re almost there, just a little further.” She said.

Once we made it to Jimmy’s truck, we all got in. Robin and l sat in the back of the truck while jimmy drove extra cautiously. While I sat in the back, Robin and I both watched the game on my phone and Jimmy listened from the front. I couldn’t held but notice how Joe kept looking in the direction of the suite with a worried look on his face. He knew it was a high risk for me to come to the game with me being 37 weeks pregnant. For 2 week’s leading up, he kept telling me that it was better to stay home, but I obviously told him that I was coming. I guess looking back on it, it was a good idea since he would’ve completely missed the birth of our child with me being back in Cincinnati.

Watching my phone, Joe kept trying to discretely look up at the suite where his pregnant wife was supposed to be. Every time he got back on the bench he looked up, but every time he did, I was still missing. A breath caught in my chest as he worriedly walked over and whispered something in Ja’marrs ear who turned around and looked up at the suite and then whispered something into Joe’s ear. “He’s probably so worried right now.” I said and started to bite my nails nervously, hoping that it wouldn’t affect his playing.

The whole way to the hospital, Robin and Jimmy were incredible. They kept reassuring me about Joe and the whole situation, calming me when I had painful contractions, and letting me vent to them when I needed to. When we got to the hospital, I left the truck so quickly that I forgot my phone in it, so I had no way of calling Joe. Normally he doesn’t answer his parents calls right after a game, but hopefully he would since he was worried about me.

We got checked in and then after I was settled down in my room, I turned on the tv to see everyone celebrating already. I missed it. I missed the last play of the game. I missed everyone running onto the field and hugging each other. I should be down on that field right now with him throwing confetti in the air and stuffing some in my pockets for memory purposes. I should be celebrating with him and letting him know that I was so incredibly proud of him and what he has accomplished in such a short amount of time.

Instead I was in this hospital bed, having painful contractions while Robin and Jimmy tried to contact someone that could tell Joe what was going on. “Alright, thank you so much.” Robin said and hung up the phone. “They are going to tell Joe right now.” Robin said. I nodded quickly and looked to the tv. After about 5 minutes of waiting, the camera zoomed in on Joe who was looking around and trying his best not to look worried. All of a sudden, someone ran over to him and whispered something into his ear. Joe immediately perked up after hearing what the man had to say and started to frantically look around. He looked shocked. The camera then followed him as he started to run off of the field, zipping past interviewers, players, and the staff before disappearing through the tunnel.

My attention was taken off of the tv as a nurse walked in with a smile on her face. “Hello mama, I’m here to take some of your vitals and check how dilated you are.” She said. “Okay. Is there any way I can get up and move soon, it really hurts.” I asked her as soon as the contraction ended. “Of course, of course. I will bring in a yoga ball to help speed up the process as well.” She said with a smile on her face as she walked over to me to check how dilated I was.

After she left, Robin got a call on her phone and when she answered it, I could practically hear Joe on the other end yelling if I was okay and why I wasn’t answering. “Relax, she forgot her phone in the car. Yes, okay, be careful.” Robin said and walked over to me with the phone. “It’s joe.” She said and held the phone out to me. I grabbed the phone from her and held it up to my ear, wanting to hear Joe’s voice so badly. Whenever I was stressed, worried, scared, or just needed to be calmed down, all I needed was to hear Joe’s voice. After so many years being with him, he’s become someone I can rely on and trust with everything in me, so not having him here is scary.

“Hey Joey.” I said, feeling tears prick my eyes a little bit. “Hey, baby, how are you? Is this really happening right now?” Joe asked me quickly. I could tell he was trying to stay calm, but excitement still filled his voice. “It’s happening, Joe. I’m already 6cm dilated. The contractions are really bad.” I said. Just as I said this, another contraction started and I tensed up a little bit. I let out a little, “ow,” as I moved around in the bed, trying to find any form of relief. “Holy crap. I’m leaving right now, I’ll be there soon.” He said and I could hear doors swinging open from the other end of the phone. “Okay, I love you. Drive safe.” I said. “I love you so incredibly much.” Joe said before hanging up.

While Joe was on his way, the nurse came back in with a yoga ball so I could bounce on it and speed the process up a little bit. Just like she told me, I sat on the yoga ball by the bed and started to bounce up and down on it slowly. The pain was unbearable at times and I just wanted it to end. Every single time I had a contraction, I so badly wanted joe to be right next to me to help me through them and let me squeeze his hand. Robin and Jimmy were helping here and there, but once Joe came, they were leaving to go get a hotel so Joe and I could share this special moment together. Even now they were downstairs trying to find him.

Currently my head was down on the bed and I was trying to breathe through a contraction while bouncing on the ball. From the side of me, I could hear the door open and expected it to be another nurse coming in to check my vitals or something. “Oh baby.” I heard Joe say. I sucked in a breath and looked over to my right so quickly and saw Joe walking over to me. “Joey.” I groaned out as he walked over to me quickly and kneeled down by my side. Relief washed over me. I was so thankful that he was finally here. As I looked into his eyes, he looked so incredibly happy. This man was literally on top of the world. Not only did he just with a Super Bowl, but now he’s going to be a dad.

“It hurts so much.” I said, gripping onto Joes left hand so I didn’t hurt his throwing hand. “I know, baby, I know. But you’re doing amazing.” Joe said. Just as he said this, I could feel the contraction ease up. Letting out a big sigh, I looked over at him and started to cry more. “It’ll be over soon, I promise.” Joe said and cupped my cheek with his free hand. It wasn’t that. It wasn’t the contractions. Yes, they hurt, but now I felt terrible that I wasn’t there for him to celebrate. Because of me he had to walk aimlessly on that field, searching for his wife that wasn’t even there. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there to celebrate with you, Joey. You wanted to win a Super Bowl for so long and when you did, I wasn’t even there for you. I’m sorry.” I said.

Joe just shook his head and let out a small laugh. “That’s what you’re worried about? This is the best way to celebrate a Super Bowl win…I’m going to be a dad. That’s the best form of celebration you could ever give me.” Joe said. “Really?” I asked him. Joe gave my hand a small squeeze and kissed my forehead. “Really. I don’t know how you’re going to top the next one.” He laughed. We both laughed together as the worry was slowly drained from my body. I was so relieved that Joe was here and he wasn’t upset at the fact that I wasn’t able to be down on that field with him.

“But we didn’t get to throw around confetti like we wanted to.” I said with my little pouty lip out. As soon as I said this, Joe’s face lit up and he reached into his pockets with both hands. “I almost forgot.” He said as he pulled his hands out, revealing a handful of confetti in each hand. I let out another laugh when he signaled for me to take some of it. “I cannot believe you brought some confetti with you.” I said and grabbed it all from his hand. “We always talked about doing this with the confetti and saving it. Of course I brought some.” Joe said and kissed my lips.

When we pulled away, we held the confetti in our hand and Joe started to count to three. “1, 2, 3.” Joe said. On 3, we both threw the confetti in the air and watched as it all came floating down on our heads, onto the bed, and onto the floor. I let out a giggle as Joe started to grab the pieces that were stuck in my hair. While he gathered up all of the confetti, I just watched his face. Joe literally looked like the happiest person in the whole world, which made me the happiest person in the whole world.

As I gazed over at him, Joe caught me staring. While he set the confetti on the little table near the bed, he laughed a little bit. “What?” He asked me. I shook my head and ran my fingers through his long hair. “I’m so, so incredibly proud of you, Joey. You worked so hard to get to where you’re at…and I am just so proud of you.” I said, feeling tears prick my eyes once again. There was really nothing I could say to joe to fully express how proud of him I was. He battled through so much adversity in his career. He fought through so many injuries and ups and down to get to where he is now, and he did it. He fucking did it.

“Thank you, baby. I truly couldn’t have done it without you,” Joe said and pushed a piece of hair back behind my ear. All of a sudden, another contraction hit and I put my head down on the bed and bounced even harder, the movement helping slightly. “Ow.” I cried out. Joe moved closer to me and put his arm around me, trying his best to comfort me. Out of nowhere, I felt the urge to push and started to get worried. “Joey, I feel like I need to push.” I groaned, trying my best to not push now if I wasn’t supposed to. It’s only been about 3 hours of feeling these bad contractions, I couldn’t be ready to push yet, right?

The contraction got so bad that I couldn’t sit down any longer, I stood up and put my hands on the bed, swaying my hips and moving my legs. “It hurts so bad but I feel like I need to push.” I cried, tears and snot running down my face. No matter what I looked like or how much I was in pain, Joe always looked at me like I was still the most beautiful girl in the world. He looked at me with those bright blue and calm eyes, but when he could tell that I was getting worried, he pressed the call button. “It’s okay, we’re going to get a nurse in here. Just breathe.” He said, standing up so he could squeeze my hips which helped a lot.

Joe repeatedly kissed my neck or shoulders and whispered encouraging things into my ear. Shortly after, the doctor came in with the nurse and PA who rattled off various vitals and checked how dilated I was. All I could do while she was checking was pray that I was 10cm and could finally push this baby out. This was excruciating and it’s only been 2 hours. “Great job kiddo. You’re already at 10cm. It’s time to start pushing.” She said with a big smile on her face. Why was she so happy? I was in excruciating pain. I wanted so badly to reach up and slap that smile right off of her face, but I didn’t have the energy for that. I glanced over at Joe who was holding back a laugh at the look I was giving him. He knew exactly who that look was for.

Everything went by so quickly, people were walking around the room, checking more vitals, and getting everything prepared while I was freaking out. I couldn’t do this. I couldn’t push out a whole baby. What was I thinking? Why did I even get pregnant in the first place. This was a terrible idea. I looked over to Joe who stood right next to me the entire time, but was currently watching the nurses as they prepared everything. I gave Joe’s hand a small squeeze and he quickly looked over to me and stepped closer.

“Joey,” I said through tears, “Joey I’m really scared .” Another wave of fear rippled through me as I saw people quickly walking around and putting on gloves. Even the snapping sound of the gloves being put on scared me. “You are the strongest person I know, You got this baby. I’ll be right by your side the entire time. It’s almost over.” Joe said lovingly, though I could hear the excitement in his voice as he placed a kiss on my forehead. I took a deep breath and nodded quickly. Before I knew it, I was being told that it was time to push. Fuck me.

“Alright kiddo. Deep breath in, hold and push.” The doctor told me at my feet. Taking a deep breath, I squeezed Joes hand tightly and started to push. Halfway through the pushing process, Joe put his hand on the back of my neck to help me while pushing and he couldn’t stop telling me encouraging things. After 15 minutes of pushing our little baby out, the baby was finally almost out. “Do you want to watch for the final push?” The women asked Joe. Joe perked up and looked to me and then the doctor. “Can I?” He asked excitedly, wanting nothing more than to watch his son or daughter being born. When the doctor said yes, Joe, holding my hand, moved so he could see better and looked down with the rest of the nurses and doctors.

“Can you give me one last big push momma?” She asked me. Nodding, I took a deep breath and started to push while squeezing Joe’s hand really hard. It hurt so much. My body was so extremely exhausted and every single time I pushed, my body would shake and convulse. Tears and sweat covered my entire face and body and I couldn’t wait until I could hold my baby. “You’re doing amazing.” Joe told me, tears streaming down his face as well. Finally, relief washed over me as I felt the baby being pushed out of me. Once I stopped pushing, I breathed heavily and started crying harder once I heard crying. I did it.

Joe and I were both a crying mess as we fully realized that we now were parents. For the first time, it would be the three of us instead of two. We finally had the family we always wanted. Joe looked over at me in amazement, amazed at what I just did. There was so much motion from my feet as they grabbed the baby. “Congratulations mom and dad, it’s a little girl.” The doctor said proudly. I let out a sob while smiling and watched as Joe leaned down to kiss me. “Can I cut the umbilical cord?” Joe asked in excitement. I giggled a little bit and wiped away the tears on my face as I watched Joe who was in awe of the whole thing.

I watched Joe with nothing but love and admiration in my eyes as he listened so carefully to what the doctor instructed him to do. Joe, taking the scissors, glanced over at me with a smile on his face and then cut the umbilical cord. After a few more seconds, Joe came back over to me and kneeled down by my side, cupping the side of my face as we both cried. “You are incredible.” Joe cried, kissing my forehead. He kept his lips there for a few seconds before he pulled away. “We’re parents.” I said with a huge smile.

My heart soared with emotion as I saw the nurses walk over to me with our baby in their arms. Joe backed away slightly so he wasn’t in their way, and watched as one nurse opened up my gown for some skin to skin and the other one placed our baby in my arms. “Oh my gosh.” I cried as I held onto our tiny, beautiful baby girl. Her little cries settled down from the skin to skin contact and I couldn’t help but stare at her tiny features. They dropped a small blanket over me and her so we weren’t as exposed, and after, Joe came back so he could see her. “She looks like you.” I said and wiped away a few tears that streamed down Joe’s face. “I’m so sorry.” Joe joked. The both of us laughed a little bit, but I shook my head. “Don’t listen to daddy, there are girls all over who have a crush on him.” I giggled.

After a few seconds of just sitting here, wondering how I got so lucky, I said, “what should we name her?” I asked. Joe looked at her face and her tiny features and slowly stroked her tiny hand. “What about Noa?” Joe asked me. I looked down at Noa with a smile on my face and nodded. “Noa,” I like that, “Noa Dorothy Burrow.” I said. When I said her middle name, Joe looked up at me with a shocked smile on her face. “Dorothy, like my grandma?” He asked me. I nodded and grabbed his chin gently with my index finger and thumb and angled his head up slowly and placed a kiss on his lips. After I pulled away, Joe shook his head in awe and rested his chin on the bed so he was pretty much face to face with his daughter. “Welcome to the world Noa Dorothy Burrow.” Joe said.

[multifandoms4]

Relaxing

Max Verstappen x Reader

Word count: 641

You and Max finally had a day off that lined up together and your plans were to relax. When you woke up, Max wrapped his arms around you tightly and you were pulled flush to his chest. "Good morning baby." You whispered to him. "Good morning, schat." A comfortable silence fell over you, almost lulling you back to sleep. That was until Jimmy and Sassy decided to jump on the bed with you.

Max let out a chuckle as they cuddled up on top of you two. "I think they are joining in on our relaxing day." You commented to Max. He just laughed and you started to relax again and fell back asleep. When you woke up again, Max and the cats were nowhere to be found. You walked out to the kitchen and saw him making breakfast for you. It made you smile and fall in love with him again.

"It smells good in here baby." You muttered quietly, still trying to get the sleepiness out of your system. He jumped at the sound of your voice and smiled at you. "Thank you, breakfast is almost ready." You smiled and helped him get out all the dishware needed and set the table. You also fed the cats their portion of food for the morning. Breakfast was delicious and afterwards, you were cuddled on the couch with Max watching a movie.

"I love you." You whispered to him. "I love you too." He whispered back. It felt nice to just be able to enjoy each other's company without any interruptions. This lasted for a few hours before there was a knock on the door. You got up from the couch and opened the door. "Charles, what are you doing here?" You asked. You don't remember inviting him over or planning anything with him. "Well you two weren't answering your phones but me and a few of the drivers are going to the beach. We just wanted to see if you wanted to come."

You opened the door and invited him to come in for a little bit. Max was still on the couch but sat up when he saw Charles. He told him why he was here and in the end, you and Max decided to go to the beach with them. It was great weather and it felt nice to hang out with some of the other drivers and have fun. You tanned for a little bit, got in the water and swam around, played some volleyball and just sat around and talked.

After the sun started to set, all of you went out to eat at a local restaurant and then parted ways. On the way back home, you and Max were making small talk with each other. "Do you need to get on the sim when we get back home?" You asked him. He shook his head, "No I can go one day without getting on it, schat." He gave you a small smile. "Besides I'm ready to go to bed." You agreed with him.

"I wish we could have more days like this." You whispered. Max nodded and agreed with you. "This is the most fun I've had in a long time." Neither of you spoke for a few minutes before he asked: "How about next season, you put in for leave at work and you come and travel with me for either a little while or even the whole season?" You looked at him shocked. "Let me talk to work about it and I would absolutely love to do that!"

Once you two got home and in bed, all you could think about was how much you loved days like today and how lucky you were to have Max. You curled up closer to him and both of you drifted off into a peaceful sleep.

Author's note: Let me know what you think, all feedback is welcomed! Thank you for reading!

[abstractnaturaldisaster]

is it over now? (was it over then?)

part two

part three: you search in every model's bed for something greater

Steve had been doing his best trying to go back to some semblance of normal after Eddie walked out of his life. It wasn't easy and he spent countless nights dreaming up how he could have handled it differently or made Eddie stay or call Robin immediately and beg her to let him tell Eddie (Steve knew she would have but he hadn't wanted to ask her). He knew he could have done countless things differently but the result probably would have ended up the same. At the end of the day, Eddie didn't trust him and at the most basic crux of everything nothing else really mattered.

He was happy for Nance and Robin though. That was the big secret of it all. Robin wasn't ready to come out publicly and Steve offered to let Nancy stay at his place so that if there was any press it would be tied to him and not Robin. Eddie came over at maybe the worst time before he had been able to clear everything with Robin and Nancy was still sleeping off the jet lag from whatever Eastern European country she was reporting in that month. Steve and Nancy had an on again off again thing as kids when they were both getting famous in their own fields having grown up in the same small town. Steve knew Nance was bigger than him but it still stung when they finally admitted it to each other.

Thankfully, the next project Steve was on he met Robin who was the light of his life and his soulmate. He'd been pretty convinced they'd get married at one point until Robin drunkenly admitted she was gay on the bathroom floor of some random afterparty their heads a little fizzy from the champagne. Their relationship quickly pivoted from romantic to platonic and Steve was more than happy to play arm candy to stave off any rumors Robin was sick of circulating. As the years passed and Robin and Steve's circles melded together, Robin and Nancy started gravitating together and even Steve couldn't deny they were kind of perfect together. He'd happily agreed to lend whatever subterfuge he could to keep the two out of the tabloids. Unfortunately he hadn't really thought about bringing his boyfriend in on the plot until a little too late. Fuck him for thinking Eddie would trust Steve though, right? Steve was trying to be more positive as he didn't want to burst Robin and Nancy's new relationship bubble with his grumpy attitude. Instead he was doing what he normally did after a bad breakup -- wallowing and forgetting it happened.

Tabloids followed him around and accused him of sleeping with everyone including Robin’s secret girlfriend but in reality he was mostly at home only scheduling nights out every so often to give the girls some privacy at his loft. Nancy had convinced Robin to head out to the Hudson Valley to have some alone time outside of Steve's apartment so Steve was using his night at home alone to rot on the couch flipping through channels until he spotted a familiar flash of dark curls hammering away on his guitar apparently playing some new single.

Steve was livid. He would’ve been pissed if he had found out about the song in a more low key way way like scrolling through TikTok or getting a text from Robin but he was fucking livid because he found out about the song when Eddie fucking Munson was on Jimmy Kimmel.

Apparently, Eddie had thought it would be fun to release an unexpected single ahead of his band’s rumored fourth album. Steve knew Eddie had to have seen the tabloid fodder after he started going out again making headlines about how his and Robin’s relationship was on the rocks and Steve was auditioning most of the city to take her place. However, he hadn’t expected for Eddie to believe all of the rumors about him. 

Steve's relationship with the tabloids had always been trying. From his very public breakup with Nancy (who everyone asserted won because she immediately starting seeing Jon) to his "slut era" before "settling down" with Robin and more recently to speculating on his relationship with Eddie and what happened with Robin. Steve and Robin had a pretty long discussion about how to handle Eddie and if she wanted Steve to keep Eddie quiet so they could continue playing up their relationship. Robin had given her blessing but Robin wasn't quite ready to come out to anyone outside their tight nit circle of friends even though Steve and Eddie quickly became inseparable. Eddie had understood when Steve told him about Robin's agent and how it was helpful if there were at least rumors of the two dating even though it couldn't be farther from the truth. While they hadn't been super public with their relationship fans of both Steve and Eddie speculated in comments to pictures and stories the two posted but the boys never confirmed anything other than a few cheeky hearts here and there.

Steve had learned about Eddie because one of this kids he grew up babysitting was a huge Corroded Coffin fan and begged Steve to bring him as his plus one to some award show the band was also nominated at. Steve tried to explain to Dustin that is was not common to just run into famous people while they were heading to the carpet but of course the universe proved him wrong and they were right behind Eddie Munson himself. Dustin never had any sense of social propriety so he went right up to Eddie and introduced himself. Steve had pretty quickly fallen for Eddie's quick wit and how kind Eddie was to one of Steve's kids. Steve hung back in the wings but became enamored with the man from afar. Later when they found themselves at the same 30 under 30 event Robin all but pushed Steve into Eddie to force him to finally talk to him. They pretty quickly fell into the rhythm of exclusivity and from there it was a short road to boyfriends.

Early on in their relationship, Steve had thought Eddie and him had gotten over the hump of his history with the press. When Steve and Eddie had started going out on dates without trying to be coy about anything, there was lot of rumors that Steve was cheating on Robin. It had taken a lot of long nights and talks but Eddie seemed to trust that so much of Steve's public persona was presented by reporters who were only looking for a story. Steve thought they'd moved past believing rumors about each other that the press loved to spin. Eddie's song made it pretty clear Eddie believed every shitty headline or tweet or deuxmoi that had come out about Steve fucking his way across town.

It wasn't like Steve could have even tried to set the record straight with Eddie. Steve had tried to contact Eddie shortly after reorienting a very confused and awake Nancy after Eddie slammed Steve's apartment door. Steve didn't tell Nancy exactly what happened but he did tell her that Eddie broke up with him. She held him as he sobbed and realized each way he had to contact Eddie was gone. He'd blocked his number, blocked all of his socials, turned off any messaging Steve could think of.

Steve was devastated Eddie thought Steve was the man the tabloids presented him as even thought he'd worked really hard to make sure all his found family knew he wasn't that person. Apparently Eddie had forgotten all of that. It certainly wasn't helping that Eddie's song was already a Tik Tok trend and Steve was enough of a masochist to scroll through the sound. Steve found far too many edits of him and Eddie timed to the chorus.

Steve felt like he couldn’t escape it or figure out how to at least tell his side of the story. Anything he said would just make him seem like an asshole for moving on so quickly or trying to cover up for cheating on his ex, so Steve kind of resigned himself to private wallowing.

In the end, it wasn't even really all of that that hurt Steve the most. Steve couldn't help but fixate on that one line.

at least I had the decency to keep my nights out of sight

Steve was heartbroken that Eddie had already moved on. Steve may have been going out and putting on a smile at whatever club or restaurant he was passing time in that night. As much as the magazines wanted the world to believe Steve was finding a home in a new girl's bed every night, reentering his notorious bad boy era, Steve went home alone or found himself with Nancy and Robin cuddling on his couch. In Steve’s less than proud moments late at night when he lay awake staring at the ceiling, he’d pull up Eddie’s public insta and may or may not have set up a google alert for any references to Eddie or his band. None of that prepared him for the reality of hearing Eddie croon about his new relationship with someone who wasn't Steve.

Steve had been trying to keep the specifics of their breakup from Robin and Nance. He knew they'd both feel terrible and with no real way to contact Eddie it wasn't worth dragging Robin and Nancy down with him. After going down a Tik Tok rabbit hole listening to people say all kinds of terrible shit about him and doubting his sincerity with Eddie, Steve slunk out of his room to where Nancy and Robin were finishing up their Thursday night movie.

"Steve?" Robin asked as soon as she saw Steve wrapped up in his blanket, eyes puffy and red.

"Rob, I need to talk to you about something." Steve sat across from his friends, tucked his knees into his chest and got ready to dive into the reasons Eddie actually left.

part four

@lololol-1234 (we're getting close to the happy ending i promise)

(if you saw this version earlier when i forgot how i had these two fools meet, no you didn't)

[echosoftheflower]

I feel like there is so much missed potential in this fandom when it comes to Jimmy's part in EVO.

Like yeah, Grian constantly pissed off the watchers by being too greedy and taking more than he should, and we all know it was Grian who was taken by the watchers after the ender dragon fight and made into one of them.

And we know that in the Life series, Martyn's character is spoken to and told to do various things for the Watchers and saved by the Listeners.

And Jimmy has some kind of Canary Curse that causes him to die first every time.

But, there is a lot more to this that people don't use simply because they haven't seen Jimmy's Evo series.

Most of my headcanon ideas are after my little recap of all the listener moments from Evo and you can skip to that, but if you have never seen Evo or never watched past Grian's POV it is pretty interesting and I think I summed it up pretty well.

----start of very long Evo Recap----

Back in Evo, the Watchers never really liked Jimmy or at points Martyn. This is seen when they get gifts from them representing the Watchers' opinions. Jimmy gets one of the worst ones (a chest with some gold and saplings, likely meaning 'room for growth') matched only by Grian's (a chest of coal with one diamond meaning 'diamond in the rough').

Martyn is shown to be disliked when later on he declares himself mayor due to Taurtis having left, his and Jimmy's Property Police station gets a meteor sent through it by the watchers. 

In Jimmy's episode 75 he and Martyn follow a strange noise underneath their destroyed station. They find the listener symbol in bedrock and signs reading 'There are some who watch, we are those who listen. Heed our melody, and await your first mission. Tell nobody." This is the first time we hear about the Listeners and we don't see anything about them again until Jimmy's episode 98. 

They had just defeated the ender dragon and had been told the news that "10 will become 9" and that they were taking Grian. In the end credits when they were told this, multiple members were mentioned by name for various things they had done, all except Jimmy.

In Jimmy's episode he spawns in alone. The spawn is destroyed and grown over and in front of him is the Listeners symbol. He finds a book in a chest simply titled "your mission" and 9 enderchests.

The book reads: "there are some who watch, we are those who listen. It is finally time for your first mission. Dragged forwards through time, your spawn old and rotten. Even in the end credits, your name was forgotten. Cruel are the Watchers who think they know best. For us please deliver each player a chest. SHhhh...."

He goes on to do as they ask,  one ender chest in each player's base. He is never told what these chests are for. Later the rest of Evo spawns in thousands of blocks away at the new spawn, they make their way back and find the Listener's symbol Jimmy had found is now a Watchers symbol.

The books titled "the future" read: "Our meeting was short and your victory grand, now 10 become 9 and you must leave this land. Our reasons are just, though you won't understand. Your actions have caused this, accidental or planned. Tread now to your homes, carry only what you can. Anymore will be drowned on and the sentence, a ban. We The Watchers Have Spoken."

They find the chests Jimmy had left them and inside is a note from the Listeners labeled "Greetings": "There are some who watch, we are those who listen, and we do not agree with their most recent decisions. 'Carry only what you can', what you deem best, We grant you more space by making use of this chest. SHHhhh....."

Later Jimmy finds signs from Martyn telling him what's going on and where to go. Jimmy shows caution and distrust towards the Watchers but follows all the same. 

They set up everything at the new spawn, but in Jimmy's episode 112, he noticed an odd musical ticking sound beneath spawn. He goes around to everyone's base to leave them a sign asking what it is to make sure they know about it. They all gather at spawn and find that it was the Listeners who did it.

Under spawn they find a book titled "Freedom" by the Listeners. It reads: "There are some who watch, we are those who listen, if you flee you'll be free and complete your recission. Single versions are slow, new adventures in store, come with us and we'll give you lots more to explore. Make haste through this maze as a portal awaits, make the choice quick and take control of your fates. SHHhhh...."

They make their way through the maze and eventually find the last portal. They all get ready to make the jump for the last time, and go through the portal. For most this is the end of Evo (Jimmy, Pearl, and Netty do Christmas specials but those are only 2 episodes) meaning that this portal was really some kind of escape.

----end of very long Evo Recap----

This means that not only had the Watchers always had a dislike for Jimmy, but the Listener always had an interest in him and Martyn.

There is also the fact that Jimmy was the one the Listeners chose to deliver the enderchests. Bringing him to the original spawn under the Watcher's nose for this task, giving out something that will later help get around the Watcher's decision. And the fact that he was the one to first notice the strange sound at spawn and then go and warn the others? or at least inform them of this allowing them all to eventually find their escape? 

It seems to me like Jimmy had long ago gotten a target painted on his back by the Watchers. With everything from

 1) going against them 

2) working for the listeners 

3) influencing others to go with him

4) they just generally didn't even like him beforehand.

By the time everyone escaped Evo it's a fair assumption that Jimmy is probably at the top of their list of problems.

So, when they make a new experiment with the death games and they have him there? Well, they can't have him staying around long enough to start figuring things out and influencing people, now can they. 

And speaking of warning others, he seemed to be so intent on warning the other Evolutionists against the Watchers. What would be a better punishment for going against them, for being one of the main catalyst in it all, then to be cursed to always be the warning. Cursed to always be the first to die, always gone before something big goes down, the Canary in the coalmine.  But no matter what his death warns of, there is no escape this time. The coalmine's entrance is sealed and no matter how long you last, soon everything inside will suffocate.

And maybe this feeds into Secret life where he mentions how the Secret keepers symbol looks familiar, or how he decides to team up with Martyn just like in Evo. 

Maybe him surviving a little longer in the games and coming back after death as a guardian angel is a testament to how the listeners are stronger in this season. An apology/gift to their first chosen for everything their actions had put him through. 

But that's probably just me making far fetched connections and reading too far into things. Could be cool though.

[stareaterau]

Chapter 1 episode 2

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Let me introduce you to our cowboy, as he takes a trip

CW: injury and description of broken bones

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A lonely cowboy trudges through the desert, bleary-eyed and hatless. His name is Jimmy.

He woke up not too long ago, face down in the sand and alone. The grains refuse to budge from their places buried between the colourful feathers on his face. With a sigh, he stops trying to scratch at the feathers to dislodge them, resigning himself to the permanent itch. It wouldn’t have helped for long anyways, the wind would soon blow more sand back into the gaps in his feathers, along with just about every other part of his lanky body. Jimmy coughs, dust coating the back of his throat. He pulls up his red bandana, from where it rests around his neck, to protect the lower half of his face. He’s not a stranger to waking up in the desert, it’s always been tempting for him to nap between the dunes, shielded from the winds and the distractions of Tumble Town. These are not those dunes. The land is flat, aside from a cracked layer of earth. The sun beats down on every surface, with next to no trees or bushes to offer much needed shade. Jimmy frowns, trying to recall the events that led him here. He must’ve fallen asleep on his horse and fallen off. He had been riding for a while… and it wouldn’t be the first time. Although, how he didn’t wake up when he fell is still a mystery to him. Maybe he fell head first. The horse must’ve wandered off while he was out… with all his belongings attached to their saddle.

And then there’s the beeping. It started off infrequently, only sounding every couple minutes. Jimmy thought he’d imagined it at first, that maybe he got heat stroke from sleeping under the sun for so long, but he reasoned that it’s far too consistent to be a hallucination. He’s not sure if that even makes sense, but it’s clearly speeding up and slowing down depending on the direction that he’s walking, so he’s sure that it’s leading him somewhere.

His running theory is that, somehow, the beeping is leading him to his horse, who, hopefully, has not managed to lose his stuff in the middle of this vast desert. Or, if not his horse, then whoever has found his belongings. If that’s the case, he hopes they’re friendly— he’s been robbed a few times and he’s not all that excited to add another experience to the list. Jimmy’s second, and just as unlikely, theory is that he’s being led towards water. That somehow he picked up some kind of water detector and managed to forget about it. He thinks this one might just be wishful thinking… or both of them may be.

There’s only one way to find out, and he’s familiar enough with this type of environment to know that meaningless wandering isn’t going to help him.

The beeping increases steadily the further he treks across the sands, dragging his sore, bird-like feet. The makeshift shoes he cut from an old pair of boots, so that they could fit, do a poor job of protecting him from the scorching earth. The more wiry trees and bushes cross his path, the more certain he becomes that he’s in a completely different desert than the one he calls home. He’s never been much of an expert in flora, but he knows he’s never seen these plants before. Their branches are thorny and muddy red, unlike the ones he’s used to. Hell, he doesn’t think he’s seen a single cactus. He probably would have tried to cut it down to see if it was edible if he had.

Despite the beeping leading Jimmy in a straight direction, he has to carefully wind his way through the desert, walking around the trenches that split the ground for miles. He almost broke his ankle in one of the shallower cracks earlier when he misjudged its depth. He pays more attention to them now, observing as they slowly grow deeper and wider, creating the chasms that lead on and on until into the dust clouds and heat waves.

Jimmy misses his hat. He will never again take its wide brim for granted, and how it blocked the harsh sun. His eyes hurt. He thought he’d have more time before the sun reached its peak, but the star moved much faster than expected. Jimmy is tempted to reason that the difference is because he’s on an entirely different planet, rather than just an unfamiliar part of the desert. A planet that rotates significantly faster than the one he calls home. But he’s not thinking that, because how could that even happen? How would he get back home? No, he lost track of time. He’s just been walking for longer than he thought. Jimmy has been living in the desert for years now, and has grown used to the heat— the feeling of feathers damp with sweat and covered in sand is a familiar sensation— but the temperature is starting to get to him. The lack of shade and water make it impossible to find a moment of relief.

The beeping grows faster, and he searches for a change in the landscape around him. The ground remains an empty plane, with nothing but the deep, wide fissures marking its surface. He’s starting to hope the beeping might be leading him to a settlement, rather than his horse. At least then he'll be able to get out of the sun.

Zoning back into the beeping, Jimmy realizes it’s slowed, a notable gap forming between each sound. Whatever he’s been walking towards must’ve changed directions, or maybe he just walked past it somehow. Looking around, nothing has changed. He hasn’t even seen animals skittering across the sand, no lizards— or alien lizard equivalents— basking under the hot sun. Trying to reorientate himself, Jimmy begins to test the beeps, listening for which directions make it speed up. But it keeps shifting. The beeping then speeds up to its fastest speed yet, the separate beeps bleeding into one sound before stopping completely, only for it to start up again a moment later. Maybe it’s leading him somewhere vertically? He looks up.

He starts walking, keeping his eyes on the sky, hoping it might reveal something new to him, but he foolishly loses track of the topography. Before he knows it, one foot sinks into unsteady ground, then the other finds nothing but air, and he’s falling.

Reflexively, he holds his arms in front of him, hoping helplessly that it will slow his plunge into the cavernous ravine.

An old reflex cries out. One long forgotten and useless. He tries to listen.

First there’s the hiss of sand, pattering over the surface below. Then a sickening crack as Jimmy lands on his outstretched arm. Pain shoots through his side.

He opens his mouth to yell, but he’s interrupted by another scream, next to him.

Scrambling to the wall and clutching his injured arm, Jimmy’s mind works on pure adrenaline as he tries to push through the pain, and wills his vision clear enough for him to see his new company.

The figure curled on the floor mirrors him, clutching their own arm to their chest.

Their body is covered in a light yellow fur, which darkens to a reddish brown at the tips of their limbs. Their fiery hair and tail flicker wildly with distress— a blazeborn. They’re wearing a torn sleeveless shirt, with a thick, dark coat tied around their waist. Why anyone would carry a coat like that out here, Jimmy cannot understand.

Their bright yellow eyes are wide like suns, shining right at Jimmy. They let out a quavery wheeze.

Jimmy shakes his head, fending off the delirium.

He coughs a pained, bitter laugh. His ribs ache. “...Hello?”

“Are you okay?” They manage back, looking and sounding like they’re in just as much pain as he is.

“Are you okay?” Jimmy nods pointedly to their broken arm. He can see its misshapen form from here. He doesn’t want to imagine what his own arm looks like.

The blazeborn shuffles tentatively towards him, making sure to not move their arm.

“I don't know- I don't know how it happened. You just fell and then I felt-”

Jimmy's eyes snap open with the realization. “Did I fall on you?! I’M SO SORRY!!”

“No no, you fell nowhere near me-” they shake their head, whining slightly, just as Jimmy feels a pulse of pain and bites back a wince himself.

With that, the look on their face morphs from concern to confusion. They shift closer to him, close enough that Jimmy can see the slight blue wisps in their warm flames. This might be the first time he’s been this close to a blazeborn. He always thought they’d give off more heat than this.

They don’t meet his gaze though, their attention directed elsewhere.

Gently, they pull their good arm from where it rests on their chest. Before Jimmy can question them, they tap his injured arm. A bolt of pain shoots through his body— he pulls back violently.

“OW!! THAT HURTS!” he yells, but his anger dissipates once he spots the blazeborn grimacing from their own pain. They blink rapidly, fighting through the daze. When it passes, they focus on Jimmy with an apologetic expression.

“This sounds crazy, but I think we're- connected.”

“What?! What are you on about?” Jimmy barks, confusion and pain leading easily into anger.

“Look, if I-”

Jimmy catches them by the wrist as they make another move to prod him.

“If you poke me one more time I swear-” Jimmy threatens in his best attempt at an authoritative tone, tightening his grip on their arm, challenging them.

They pause, considering him for a moment. Their eyes, without a trace of fear, flick down to Jimmy’s arm before returning to meet his gaze. They seem to be more intrigued than anything.

“Okay, okay, how about you poke me, then.” They direct his hand over to their injured arm.

"W-why?" Jimmy squawks, resisting.

“You'll feel the same thing. If my guess is right, at least.”

The way they laugh afterwards doesn't exactly fill Jimmy with much confidence. It reminds him of a mad scientist excited to test their hypothesis regardless of their questionable, painful methods. The logic makes his head spin; the stranger’s certainty is a jarring contrast. He feels like he’s out of the loop about something.

”....Okay. Are you sure?”

They grin wildly at him, their sharp teeth on full display.

“Go ahead, I'm giving you permission.”

“HM.” Jimmy hums with audible suspicion, baffled as to why someone would willingly feel that kind of pain. Stumped, he grants them their wish. As gently as he can, he pokes them.

His own arm blooms with pain. The same white hot pain. He pulls back, gasping, faint from the unexpected sting.

“What- WHAT THE HECK-'' Jimmy cries, hugging his arm closer to his chest. Nothing touched him, but that’s not how it felt. His poor arm pulses with pain, and he stares at the blazeborn.

They huff out a couple unsteady breaths, clearing their head before meeting Jimmy’s stricken look with another weak grin. How someone can smile in this situation is beyond Jimmy, and how this stranger’s grin grows wider with each passing second is completely unfathomable. Finally, they explode with laughter.

“AHAH- Welp, this is definitely a weird situation!”

“How-” Jimmy falters, his worry deepening. “Who are you?”

The blazeborn casually pushes themself up against the wall, sitting down next to him. They wipe the sand off their hand onto their coat.

“No idea, and the name’s Tango.”

He smiles up at Jimmy, more genuinely.

“…Jimmy.” He replies, finding the time to properly take in Tango’s appearance beyond the minimum.

Jimmy’s eyes flicker to something tied at the blazeborn’s waist. It was a pair of big, bulky boots. He watches Tango kick at the dust with his bare feet. No wonder he isn't wearing them. They look more suited to insulating the cold and snow, rather than the scorching heat of a desert.

An awkward silence falls over the two, both of them trying to process their situation, and grimacing internally from their pain. Jimmy rests his tail over his own feet, fanning the end towards him to battle the heat. He's not particularly sure what to say, especially to a stranger who is, by some unexplainable magic, connected to him. Fortunately for him, he doesn't have to go first.

“So, Jimmy… What got you here?” Tango breaks the silence.

“I fell.” He replies dumbly, not registering the question completely.

Tango spits out a laugh. “No, I mean- in this desert.”

Jimmy shrugs, recalling all he can. “I don't know… I don't remember.”

He’s beginning to accept that maybe his horse and all his belongings aren’t on this planet at all.

He yawns, “I was just following the beeps-”

His head slips against the wall behind him, neck lolling as a wave of exhaustion hits him.

“Hey, hey, buddy- stay awake for me.” Tango reaches over, snapping his good hand in front of Jimmy and chuckling nervously.

“Mmm… sorry.” Jimmy rubs his eyes, blinking blearily at the blazeborn. “What about you?”

“Pretty much the same.” Tango affirms. “I was following the beeps through the caves and ravines, and then I stumbled upon you- or more like, you stumbled and-” Tango gestures to the top of the ravine, reenacting Jimmy's fall with his hand, complete with cartoonish sound effects.

Jimmy, too worn down to feel insulted, just laughs.

“You think the beeping was leading us to the same thing?” He enquires.

“Probably- or probably to each other, actually. ‘cuz we're linked somehow!” Tango decides, seeming far more alert than Jimmy.

“Who… would do that? …why?” Jimmy asks hazily, stifling another yawn.

Tango lowers his gaze, brow furrowing. He doesn’t reply. Instead, he sinks deeper in thought, mumbling like he’s debating something in his mind.

Jimmy frowns as the moment stretches on, and opens his mouth to ask what's wrong, but Tango interrupts him.

“I think I might have an idea why I'm here.”

“Oh?” Jimmy tilts his head.

“You work with dodgy people, you get into dodgy situations.” He states bluntly, like it’s a matter of fact.

“You- you’re not a robber, are you? Or a murderer?!” Jimmy tenses, not-so-subtly shuffling away.

“Oh, no no- nothing scary,” Tango snorts, offering Jimmy a disarming wink.

Jimmy’s not convinced. He studies Tango wearily.

“I mean-” Tango elaborates, “I'm actually just an architect of sorts. That's not scary.”

“Could be!” Jimmy argues, “You could be making dungeons and torture chambers!”

Tango snaps his mouth shut with a squeak, a chuckle stuttering through his teeth.

"…yeeaah. Nothing like that." He assures vaguely, trying to emphasize his words carefully.

Jimmy squints at him, humming in agreement despite his suspicion. He goes to move so that he can face Tango straight on, but in the process, bumps his elbow into the stone wall.

Both Tango and Jimmy immediately curl into themselves. “Ah- ow ow ow ow.” They murmur in sync.

"Oh, yeah,” Tango wheezes breathlessly, “We should probably do something about these.”

Jimmy makes a small, sad noise to himself. He’s gone a long time without having to deal with a broken bone, and he had been hoping to keep it that way. He looks helplessly at his arm, and Tango follows his gaze.

“Can I see?” Tango asks, in the calmest voice he can muster, though the tension around his eyes betrays his own unease.

Jimmy just nods and moves closer, more carefully this time.

Tango leans over as Jimmy lifts his arm delicately.

“Hmm.” He ponders over the mangled limb. “Haha.” He concludes flatly, “It looks like we might have to set them.”

Jimmy pulls his arm back. “I don't want to do that. You know what, I always wanted a wonky arm, actually.”

“If it's any comfort, you won't be alone in the pain.” Tango tries with a weak smile.

Jimmy pouts. Conceding slightly, he asks “Are we going to do our arms at the same time?”

“Void, no.” Tango laughs dismissively. “That sounds like a horrible idea. The universe might just implode.”

“What?” Jimmy snaps, shooting Tango a concerned stare. Tango rolls his eyes.

“We'd most likely both feel twice as much pain, buddy. That's what I mean.”

Jimmy’s face tightens with anxiety, and he makes another move to scoot away.

“Hey, hey, wait.” Tango placates, looking around helplessly. Rummaging in his pocket, he pulls out two torn pieces of fabric. They look like they used to be the sleeves from his t-shirt.

Tango hands one to Jimmy. “Bite down on this?” He offers.

“Don't happen to have any form of painkillers, then?” Jimmy pipes uselessly.

Tango notices the way Jimmy eyes the dirty fabric. He shrugs apologetically.

“That's all I got, sorry.”

Jimmy sighs, willing himself to accept his fate, and clumsily folds the fabric with one hand. He tentatively places it in his mouth.

“So… who first?” He mumbles defeatedly through the fabric.

“Hmmm… you!”

Before Jimmy can process what’s happening, Tango snaps his arm back into place.