#I just wanna write a million baby fics for Ghost

[babydollmarauders]

ILLICIT AFFAIRS — QUINN HUGHES

quinn hughes x fem!reader

summary: in which y/n is Quinn’s little secret.

specific lyrics: “what started in beautiful rooms; ends with meetings in parking lots” and “you wanna scream, don't call me ‘kid’, don't call me ‘baby’, look at this godforsaken mess that you made me” and “look at this idiotic fool that you made me” and “for you, i would ruin myself, a million little times”

warnings: cheating, 18+ content in the middle, ANGST!

notes: you will not think highly of the Quinn in this fic. i know i’m supposed to be writing the Speak Now Fic List— bear with me. this was written as a way to get out of my writers block.

i can always stop.

i can.

i have freewill to refuse his advances.

i think.

but the stolen stares, the weight of his body against mine, the feeling that comes with knowing he wants me in the way i’ve longed for him to want me, it’s an addiction.

a drug that i just can’t quit, despite how dirty and used i feel afterwards. despite having to sneak away with my hood up and my head down.

the high of being his, just for a moment, outweighs the inevitable self-criticism in the aftermath.

because that’s the thing about illicit affairs; they make you hate yourself a million little times.

**

i’ve barely just climbed off of him, my back skimming the mattress, before he’s already standing from my bed.

my eyes follow his movements, the fluidity and grace of flowing through steps he’s done a million times before.

his dress shirt buttoned back on, his suit pants following, his tie lazily swung around his neck and his suit jacket pulled over to complete the look.

while i’m tangled in my thin sheet, still recovering, he’s fixing his hair in the mirror above my dresser and letting his own eyes graze his neck for marks. finding none, as i know better than to make myself known on his skin.

never seen, never heard, always secret. no marks, never wear perfume nor lipstick, never leave any trace of existence. a ghost above all else.

his eyes lock with mine in the mirror, catching my longing stare with his indifferent one.

“i’ve gotta go. you watching the game?” he knows the answer, he always knows.

“yeah, Quinny, i’ll be watching.” my cheeks flush. “i always do.”

“good. i’ll try and score a goal for you.” he winks in the reflection, my heartbeat picking up as it does every time. “bye, baby.”

there’s no goodbye kisses, no whispered sweet nothings, just quirked lips and the sound of my bedroom door shutting behind him.

it’s not long until the bliss wears off, leaving me with nothing but self-depreciating thoughts. no one to blame but myself.

he has a girlfriend.

one who isn’t you.

aren’t you ashamed?

aren’t you disgusted with yourself?

don’t you deserve better?

although, maybe not.

my phone buzzes on the nightstand beside me, an incoming call from my best friend, and despite feeling like an idiotic fool and a betrayal of my own morality, i accept the call.

“hey, Lukey!” false cheer drips from my tongue, but just like every other time, i know he won’t know the difference. “to what do i owe the pleasure of your call?”

“hey, y/n/n!” Luke’s chuckle crackles over the speaker of my phone. “i just wanted to talk, i’ve been missing you extra the past few days. i want my movie buddy.”

“i miss you too, Lukey.”

god, if only he knew how badly i’ve fucked up without him to lead me the right way.

“don’t you have Jack now to watch movies with?” i question, shaking off the urge to confess my sins. to ask for his forgiveness and plead for him to talk some sense into my love-riddled mind.

“it’s not the same. he doesn’t pay attention to the little details as well as we do.” i can hear his pout through the phone, making me giggle.

“just one more month, then we’ll have the whole summer to watch as many movies as we want.” i remind him.

“yeah, one more month.” he replies, solemnly. “anyways, UBC is still treating you good, right? no chance you’d wanna transfer to, i don’t know, Rutgers or Princeton?”

i chuckle at his lame attempt at convincing me to leave my dream school.

“i’m sorry, moose; but UBC is still where my heart lies.” oh, if only he knew just what, or rather who, the reason was for that.

“yeah, alright. it was worth a shot.” he sighs. “and Quinny’s taking good care of you, right?”

i my throat closes up and i choke on the air in my lungs.

“what?” i ask him, sitting up in my bed and pulling the sheet closer to my body.

“Quinn.” he repeats. “he promised he’d look after you. has he?”

“oh, yeah. yeah, he’s been checking in on me. making sure i’m okay.” i guess that’s one way to put what we’ve been doing.

“good. i’d have to kill him if he let you get hurt.”

**

my feet have barely touched the ground outside of my car before the lake house door is flung open. my best friend bounds out of the house, his middle brother hot on his trail, attempting to speak to him about something long forgotten by Luke.

“YOU’RE HERE!” Luke’s arms are flung around my waist, hoisting me up in the air and spinning me around.

the melody of my laugh mingles in the air as my arms wrap around his neck.

“Lukey, put me down, i already feel sorta car sick! it was a very long drive.” despite the fact that my words are true, i can’t wipe the smile off my face from being reunited with my best friend.

my feet finally fall flat on the ground as Luke backs up to look at my face, his fingers grazing all over it, more specifically the under eye bags from stress and sleepless nights.

“i thought you said you were doing great? what are these?! they’re new!”

his concern is heartwarming but before i can respond, i notice all the people behind him on the lake house porch. Jack, their friends, and most importantly, Quinn. the real reason for my newly spotted dark circles.

i muster up a chuckle, rolling my eyes.

“they’re designer. they come with the UBC tuition.” i stress, hoping he buys the ‘i’ve just been working myself to the bone with schoolwork’ excuse.

“checks out. you’ve always been my little nerd.” he grins, slinging an arm around my shoulder and turning towards the porch. “aren’t you guys gonna come say hi?”

“didn’t wanna impose on your moment.” Jack jokes, hopping down the porch steps to pull me from Luke’s grasp and into a hug.

“hey, bubby. welcome back.” he smiles, ruffling my hair mid hug. i step on his foot in retaliation, making him push me back so he could check on his white sneakers.

“it’s good to be back, bubba.” i grin as he rolls his eyes.

“hey kid, long time no see.” my head snaps over to look at Quinn, who smirks at me with a knowing look.

we saw each other three days ago, the day before he flew out to Michigan.

“hey, Quinny.” a bashful smile takes over my lips and my heart beats overtime, the natural reaction when i’m in his vicinity.

“no.” Luke speaks, pulling me into his chest protectively. “you don’t get to ‘hi’ her. you got her all year. this is my turn.”

his words make me blush and i pat his chest.

“don’t worry Lukey, this is our time.” i reassure him. “i but i would like to go inside now.”

“yeah, right.” he nods, letting me push away from him. the guys all head back into the house, leaving me to open my trunk and grab my bag.

a strong hand encases mine on the handle of my suitcase, soft lips i know all too well grazing the shell of my ear.

“i hope Luke doesn’t mind sharing.” Quinn leaves me frozen behind him, taking my bag and my breath with him.

beats of time pass before i follow suit, closing my trunk and locking my car before jogging up the porch steps and into the house.

this will be one hell of a summer. literally.

**

“i’m going for a run.”

my words are spoken through Luke’s shut bedroom door, followed by the opening of said door.

“a run?” he asks me, sleep still prominent in his face from his mid-afternoon nap. “since when do you run?”

“i started running when i was in Vancouver. i thought i told you that?” the lie is like a sour candy on my tongue, spit out quickly as though another second of these words in my mouth would make me sick.

“oh, okay. how long will you be gone? i’ll have the movie set up for when you get back.”

“i shouldn’t be too long. like an hour at most.” i tell him, tightening my ponytail.

“you’ll actually probably be all sweaty when you get back. just wake me back up when you get back and i’ll get the movie ready while you shower.”

sweaty and flushed, for sure.

“okay.”

*

“Quinn, please.” my heavy pants turn to pleads, begging Quinn to get me over the edge. his hands hold mine behind my back as i grind my hips against his.

unable to risk being caught at the lake house, our rendezvous settings have downgraded from my bedroom back in vancouver. to the parking lot of a field, only a 15 minute walk from the house.

“you want me to make you come?” his words cause a shiver down my spine, my head nodding at rapid speed. “use your words, baby. say it.”

“i want you to make me come.” i beg. that’s all it takes for him to flip us over, my body laid across his back seat as he thrusts into me, hooking one of my legs over his shoulder.

“fuck, you’re so wet baby. feel so good squeezing my cock.” i clench around him, his dirty whispers echoing in my head as the coil in my stomach tightens. he angles his hips, thrusting up into the spot that makes my eyes roll back.

“right there.” i gasp, my hands coming up to grip his shoulders. i’m careful not to dig my nails into his skin. careful to never leave any sort of marks. his right hand trails down my body, settling on my stomach.

“right there?” he teases, repeating his previous move, all while pushing one hand down on my stomach. my legs shake, and i clench around him one final time before the pressure relieves and i achieve my orgasm.

Quinn thrusts a few more times, riding me through my high and chasing his before his hips stutter and he pulls out, painting my stomach with his release.

the glass windows are fogged, the car hot and reeking of sex, the only sound being our heavy breathing as we gather ourselves again.

my eyes flutter, my energy spent.

“hey, baby.” Quinn’s hand snakes onto my thigh, shaking it slightly. “you should go. Luke is probably waiting for you.”

i nod. i know he’s right, but it still stings, being dismissed so quickly.

i wipe my stomach with a napkin from his glovebox before slipping my biker shorts back on and pulling my tank top back over my head.

“i’ll see you at the house.” he bids me goodbye, as i slip out of his car, starting my walk back to the house.

aren’t you sick of this?

don’t you feel guilty for lying to your best friend?

for betraying him like this?

don’t you think you can do better?

that you deserve better than clandestine meetings?

than being someone’s ‘other woman’?

than being tossed aside the second he’s done with you?

i’m done.

*

“alright, you ready?” Luke asks, plopping down on the couch cushion beside me, a bowl of popcorn clutched in his hand.

“yeah, press play, moose.” Luke is just about to hit play on the netflix movie when the front door swings open. Quinn steps into the house, shutting the door before noticing us on the couch.

“hey.” he gives us a nod, walking towards the stairs. “oh, Olivia is flying in tomorrow morning.”

my heart stops, my muscles tensing.

Olivia.

Quinn’s girlfriend.

the one we’ve been sneaking around for four months.

“oh cool, what time?” Luke is oblivious to my silent panic.

“six a.m, so i’m heading to sleep. night, Luke. night, kid.”

there it is again. that stupid nickname. ‘kid’.

Quinn heads up the stairs and i hear the faint sound of his bedroom door shutting.

my head snaps over to Luke.

“hey, i gotta go get something from my room, i’ll be right back.” i pat his leg before rising from my seat, making my way towards the stairs.

“oh, okay.” he nods, getting on his phone as i walk up the stairs.

i come to a stop outside of Quinn’s door, debating knocking before i decide not to, in order to not raise suspicion from Luke.

i swing the door open, slipping in before quickly shutting it behind me.

Quinn sits on the foot of his bed, head rising from looking at his phone. his brows furrow before he raises one in questioning.

“didn’t get enough of me earlier?” he teases. “aren’t you and Luke watching a movie? i don’t think we can have a quickie right now-”

“we’re done.” his lips snap shut, whether in shock, or disbelief, or just plain speechlessness, i’m not sure. but he’s silent, so i continue. “no more meetings. no more.”

my heart aches in my chest, my throat getting tighter and tears bubble up in my eyes.

i thought it would be easy to stop.

i used to tell myself i could do it whenever i wanted. but now, i know it’s not true.

there was no ‘last time’, only this afternoon. no soft goodbyes. i’ll be stuck seeing him for the rest of my life. he’s a mistake that i became all too comfortable with. with him, i let my morals wash away like a drawing in sand. but i was done hating myself, thinking so low of myself for my forbidden actions.

he chuckles as if i told him a joke, as if i didn’t just tell him we were over. standing from the bed and prowling towards me, his hand raises to cup my cheek.

“what are you talking about, baby?”

it’s always ‘baby’ in secret. ‘kid’ while in company. he makes me feel so stupid, like i’m a child; naive and small.

“don’t call me ‘baby’.” i swat his hand away from my cheek. “and don’t call me ‘kid’, either. do you not know my name?

“do you not know the name of the girl you’ve been fucking in secret for the past four months? that you’ve known since you were ten?”

his nostrils flare, stepping back as though i’ve slapped him.

“i know your name, y/n.” his words drip with venom, his lips press together into a straight line. “they’re just nicknames.”

“they’re cruel.” i spit. “you know what you’re doing. i’ve made myself available to you for too long. i’ve let you use me and throw me to the side as if i’m nothing. i’ve become something i never would’ve imagined i would be-”

“y/n-”

“no! this is my turn to talk. look at this godforsaken mess that you made me. i’m actively lying to my best friend, your brother. i’ve become the ‘other woman’. a title i would’ve smacked myself for, just six months ago. i’ve lost my sense of morality. i’ve become someone that i don’t even recognize; because of you. so, i’m done.

“i will not be your secret anymore. i deserve more. i deserve better than someone who keeps me hidden. who dismisses me mere minutes after using my body.”

tear tracks stain my cheeks, my face feels tighter under the salty liquid and i quickly wipe them away.

“you’re right.” my lips part slightly, my gaze fixating on the man in front of me.

he seems genuine. his eyes glistening with pity and an unrecognizable emotion.

“i’m sorry. you deserve better.” he tells me, nodding his head solemnly.

“i do.” i reply. “and i’ve been rejecting everyone that is interested because i’ve been hoping and praying to any higher power that you would love me the way that i’ve loved you since i was sixteen, but that’s not gonna happen, is it?”

he shakes his head ‘no’ and i can’t even hold it against him, because at least he’s finally being honest with me.

i bite my lower lip, nodding dejectedly and gripping the doorknob behind me.

“for you, i’ve ruined myself a million times.”

i slip out the door, padding back down the stairs and leaving the man i love, and our illicit affairs behind me.

Luke’s head rises when i return, his eyebrow raised and his lips parted, surely ready to question what took me so long. but with one glance at my tear stained face and bloodshot eyes, his mouth closes, his arms opening instead.

i drop onto the couch, burying my face into his neck. his arms wrap around me tightly, one hand holding the back of my head as the other rubs my back.

“i know.” he whispers. “it’s okay. i know.”

his words are mumbled against the shell of my ear and the emotion with which their spoken confirms that he knew what i’d been doing. they only succeed in making me feel even more guilty. all this time, i thought i’d been doing a pretty good job of hiding our meetings this summer, but my best friend is smart, catching on a lot more than i realized.

“i’m so sorry, Lukey.” i sob, my apology muffled by his skin.

“it’s okay. and i promise, it’ll be okay, y/n/n. i’ve got you.”

[blueparadis]

꒰ WHEN WE COLLIDED ꒱ ⋮ RAN HITANI.

───❪ SYNOPSIS ❫ ⋮ A decision always changes the course of one's life but mainly it affects just one person, the one who takes the decision. However, an accident doesn't, it affects more than one person. Ran seems to believe he can have both in his favor if he plays his cards at the right time.

───❪ TAGS ❫ ⋮ MDNI, 18+ & M RATING.

(sub!)ran haitani x (switch!)fem!reader, one sided pinning, manipulation, death via accident ( MCD ), fruity!ran agenda, yandere themes, mention of implied cheating, domestic violence ( not by ran ), bad marriage,slow burn, eventual smut.

───❪ PLAYLIST ❫ ⋮ stay by stephan, too close by sir chloe, million dollar man by lana del rey, i am the dog by sir chloe, me and my husband by mitski, movement by hozier, don't you know by james young, do i wanna know by arctic monkeys, sex with a ghost by teddy hyde, stuck on a puzzle alex turner, cherry waves by deftones, the witch by Rosenfeld & khemis.

part one.

summary: The monotony in the life of Ran Haitani has a flicker of excitement. It turns up for a second and then goes out. But, for a hungry animal to denounce the prey, even if it is a slice is nothing but a mockery of the ways of nature. word count —2,5k.

part two.

summary: Ran starts to gather pieces of his puzzle even barely has any piece of it, he could see a glimpse of the final picture. He has never been taught not to play with his food when he was a child and he never did unless the food feels stale and tasteless on his tongue. word count — 2,6k.

part three.

summary: Ran's heart starts to unwind, starts to overlook all the possibilities of obstacles he might face to have you. With his heart in a bind, he starts to seek ways to connect, ways to have you, see you, taste you, feel you. word count — 1,6k.

part four.

summary: There is a jinx that Ran heard when he was eight years old, from his nanny. "You lose the people with whom you share your handkerchief." Now, he is not much of a superstitious person but when he saw his favorite handkerchief in the fist of his father who was intimately clung by his mother in the newspaper picture, he started to believe; he started to experiment word count —1,1k.

part five.

summary: It has been almost half of another month since his last encounter with you. Ran has thought of his second encounter with you way too many times that it lies heavy on his eyelids, on his fingertips, creating goosebumps on his skin. It tingles his soul. He replays that particular memory in a loop until he gets drunk on it, until he gets what he is promised. word count —0.7k.

part six.

summary ~ to be updated soon.

───❪ NOTES❫ ⋮ read on ao3.

blog navigation.

dividers by @benkeibear. banner art by me. for better quality you need to view the image seperately.

This is for my beloved dawnie. @lalunanymph . ( kindly check her rules if you wish to read her works. )

Dawn baby, I have read your works when I'm happy, when I'm sad, when I'm angry, and whenever I missed you. I have kept coming back to read your works, again and again, especially during my exam season. And one day I reaslized that you and your writing has become an integral part of my Tumblr. Not only that, it has also shaped my writing and reading experience. Needless to say dawnie baby that I admire you a lot. So, this is a little gift from me to you for creating such a brilliantly bright trajectory in my writing journey. Tokyo Revengers has always been my staple fandom. Even being a multifandom blog it is the tokyo revengers’ masterlists which is most stacked. At first I thought I should write on Kakucho for you but didn't feel confident about it so I went with Ran Haitani. This is probably the third long fic on him and second series work. I don't generally write on my favs because I don't know what to write and how to write. It is always a struggle but I hope this scratches the right parts of your brain. Take your time, read it in a one fine afternoon all of a sudden or somewhere in next million years. I'm not in rush :’))

Love you,

paradis.

[the-cult-of-riley]

Sleeping With Ghosts (Act One: Chapter Twenty Seven)

Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Female OC

[[Masterlist]]

A/N: Oh, baby, this is it!!!

The last chapter of Act One. I hope you guys are ready for the hell I’m gonna bestow on you all lmaooo

I just wanted to say, while I have a bunch of shit written for Act Two and a boat load of ideas, I am up for suggestions. If there's something you'd like to see in the fic, don't be a stranger. I can't guarantee I’ll do it, if it doesn't mesh with the ideas I have, but as a free writer, my work is always evolving and taking on a life of its own. So hit me up if there's some specific shit you wanna see.

Also this chapter is a little rough so… re-read the tags and take care of your mental health.

Placebo - A Million Little Pieces

There wasn't much I used to need

A smile would blow a summer breeze through my heart

Now my mistakes are haunting me

Like winter came and put a freeze on my heart

I've lost the power to understand

What it takes to be a man with my heart

I saw you wanted this to end

You tried your best to be a friend to my heart

But I'm leaving this worry town

Please no grieving, my love, understand?

Whenever I was feeling wrong

I used to go and write a song from my heart

But now I feel I've lost my spark

No more glowing in the dark for my heart

So I'm leaving this worry town

Please no grieving, my love, understand?

Understand?

Understand?

Understand?

Understand?

Understand? (Can't you see I'm sick of fighting?)

Understand? (Can't you tell I've lost my way?)

Understand? (Look at me there's no denying)

Understand? (I won't last another day)

So I'm leaving this worry town

Please no grieving, my love, understand?

Then I'm leaving this worry town

Please no grieving, my love, understand?

All my dreaming torn in pieces

All my dreaming torn in pieces

All my dreaming torn in pieces

All my dreaming torn in pieces now

A burst pipe was dripping, the nose echoing in the desolate concrete room. Sounded like a bullet ricocheting off the walls. Simon fucking wished it was, wished it ricocheted right into his brain. How long had he been here? It all bled together, felt like forever at this point. His body was well and truly broken, had so much done to him that he’d been sure he was a goner multiple times, yet somehow he was still clinging on. His mind though, that he was trying to clutch with all of his might, bloodied fingers and all. 

He wasn't sure just where it all went wrong, to be betrayed by his superior like he had, to wind up in the hands of a monster. Roba wanted him to join their side, thought he’d make a great soldier for him. Wanted him a mindless drone to follow his brutal orders. An unstoppable machine. He wouldn’t do it, wouldn’t ever fucking do it but boy was Roba determined to try and break him. 

It had been your run of the mill torture at first but Simon was prepared for that, fucking passed his RTI training with flying colours for a reason. But when that didn't work it got meaner, more brutal, until Simon’s body was littered with scars, so many he was sure he looked like mincemeat. The one that sliced through his top lip into his cheek had been the most painful. It was still trying to heal. 

When Roba realised he wasn't getting anywhere to break his new favourite toy, he resorted to tactics that Simon hadn’t been prepared for, ones that had damaged his psyche beyond repair. He’d been confused when the first prostitute had been brought to him and he’d been horrified at what they wanted him to do. He was married and he wasn’t about to fuck a hooker. Roba hadn't liked that though and as the poor girl hit the floor with a thud, bullet hole in her head, Simon had felt bile clawing its way up his throat. He might not have pulled the trigger but he damn well killed her, and that was the fucking point wasn’t it? The mind games. 

Roba knew he'd play along more if innocent lives were threatened and so that's what he did. He kept bringing him women that if he was honest, might not have even been willing participants and they forced him to be touched against his will. And if he didn’t get hard, didn’t fucking finish as they watched like the sick perverts they were, the girls wound up beaten or dead. He wasn't sure he’d ever be right in the head again if he ever got out of here, especially not when it got even worse when even that hadn’t broken him completely. 

Then it turned into the men taking turns with him, being used in a way he’d never even considered. He felt dirty, like he’d never wash clean, like he was tarnished from the inside out and all he could think about was her. Could she still love him after he’d been with other people? No, that wasn't right was it? Hadn’t been voluntary, hadn’t been willing. He knew exactly what it was he went through, the R word that burned in the back of his mind like vitriol. He’d been defiled. 

Would she think of him differently or would she open her arms out to him, wrap them around him in a tender embrace and tell him it would all be okay? Simon’s eyes closed, tears leaking down the sides as he lay on the hard concrete floor, the cold biting into his broken and naked body. He could just about hear her, the delicate voice floating through the peripheries of his shattered mind.

I’ve got you, Si. I love you.

A deep and aching sob wracked his bruised chest, his heart yearning so fiercely for her that it caused him more physical pain than the beatings. She was the only thing keeping his sanity in check, the only thing he was clinging onto so desperately. He needed to get back to her, needed to be in her arms, needed to feel like he was still a man, still worthy of love. 

He felt so disconnected from everything, disjointed and wrong. Nothing felt like it made sense anymore other than her. He’d never allow them to break him because he couldn't leave her all alone. He’d promised her that years ago, made it solid with his vows to her. He wouldn't die here, wouldn't leave her grieving and alone. He’d get back to her no matter what it took. 

His whole body tensed up as he heard the door down the hall rattle, the key in the lock turning. A cold, creeping fear trickled through his veins like ice and his chest felt like it caved in. He knew what was coming for him, knew what time it was. And so, he allowed himself to float away somewhere else. Somewhere it was warm, somewhere with blue soft eyes gazing at him, a bright smile just for him, small hands smoothing through his hair and telling him it was all okay. He'd be okay as long as he was with her. 

He’d been through a lot of horrible things in his life but nothing could top the last three months. Nothing could top being hung by his ribs with a meat hook or being buried alive with his dead, treacherous CO. But even then, he hadn't given up. Even bloody and gasping and retching and fractured. He’d dug his way out of that grave with the jaw bone of his bastard of a Major, got himself right out. Finally. He could go back to her. She was all he ached for, all he wanted. 

Getting out of Mexico had been a blur, wound up being picked up by a Captain called John Price that he’d briefly worked with before. He wasn’t sure how he fucking found him, wasn’t sure of anything anymore and then weeks were spent in hospital as he recovered. His brain was fuzzy, his mind trying to erase the horrors he’d endured, trying to stuff them into a box so deep in his mind he’d never be able to find them. Didn't work though, did it? His body recovered, leaving awful scars that covered every part of him. His face made him sick, a scar along his cheek and lip and one that curved around his left temple. Would she flinch when she looked at him? Would she feel as sick as he did? Would she still look at him the same? His body might have healed but his mind sure hadn't. He had this hope, that once he was home, once he was back with her that it would all be okay. She’d make it okay. 

“You thought any more about what I said?” John asked him, watching as Simon slid a hoodie on. The man had been kind enough, slowly earning his trust after not leaving his side. 

“We both know I wouldn't pass a psych eval… not anymore,” he bit out. He tried not to think of the nightmares or the crippling panic attacks he kept getting out of nowhere. Tried not to think about the dreams where he was hurting people, hurting innocent women and enjoying it. Tried to tell himself that Roba hadn't won, he hadn't. 

“Doesn't really matter about that, does it? You've got potential, Simon. A bit of therapy and I think you’d be good to go. I’d love to have you on my team,” the man murmured, giving him a sympathetic look. He felt honoured that after all he went through, this man, a seemingly good man, had decided he was worth something. Decided that he wanted him on board. He felt like a fragile piece of porcelain, cracked and waiting to fall to pieces. He was nothing like the brave soldier he’d thought he was. 

“I appreciate it but… I’m done. I want out. Just wanna get home, back to my wife. Wanna… settle down, get better, have kids. I don't want this life anymore,” he admitted hoarsely. 

His hand moved to his tags, the pendant she got him still there. A tether to her. He couldn't do this life anymore, not after all he’d been through. He just wanted a normal life, wanted to just be with Charlotte. John nodded, moving at a snail's pace to tap him on the shoulder. He still flinched anyway but he was getting better. He hoped to god he wouldn't flinch at Lottie’s touch, he knew it would break her. Her soft heart would already hurt for him when she found out what he’d endured. 

“Alright, well… Here's my number anyway. Call me if you change your mind or… if you just need a chat,” he smiled and Simon nodded, grateful for the man who just appeared in his life when he needed him. He’d never forget his help. 

“Thanks, John,” he murmured. 

He got the special treatment of a private military plane back to Manchester and he looked around at the pitiful smattering of snow and the twinkling lights people had up. It was Christmas day. Even after everything he’d been through, he was excited to see her, his stomach twisting in knots at the prospect. She’d be so surprised to see him and he just needed to feel her, needed to take in her comforting scent and to hear her beating heart. 

A thought occurred to him then and he decided to go to his mum’s first and he knew Tommy, Beth and Jo would be there after spending Christmas day there. Not really to see them as he knew his current scarred state would cause quite a stir but because Lottie’s present was there so she wouldn't see it. His mum had helped him with it. He’d been so excited about giving it to her. While he knew it was wrong, he decided he wouldn't tell his family what happened to him, they didn't need to know those horrors. He’d come up with some bullshit about a bomb or something to cover for his scars. He would tell Lottie though, she deserved to know the truth and why he’d come back different. 

He was glad the houses weren’t too far apart, his steps picking up as he saw his mum’s house. The lights outside blinked rapidly and he smiled at the stupid inflated snowman in the front garden. It wasn't lost on him how close to death he’d been not too long ago and all these little things he’s taken for granted meant so much more to him now. He moved through the front gate, approaching the door and frowning when he saw it was open a crack. 

“Mum! You’ve left the door open!” he called out, pushing it open as he stepped inside. For a house full of people on Christmas day, it was eerily silent and Simon felt a chill sweep up his spine, his military alertness taking over. 

“Mum! Tommy!” he called out warily, moving inside the house fully. 

As he walked into the living room, the world stopped turning and he couldn't breathe. Mum. She was lying on the floor in front of the Christmas tree and his first thought had been that she’d had a fall or a heart attack or stroke. But as he rushed to her, turning her over to her back, blood pounded in his ears at the bullet hole in her head. No, no, no. 

He jumped up, hands clutching the sides of his head as he shut his eyes, frantically shaking his head. He’d had dreams like this before. It was a dream, it had to be. Yet when he opened his eyes again, the lifeless body of his mum stared back at him. He looked to his left seeing Beth slumped on the couch, bullet wound to the head. He couldn't hear the wounded noises he was making with the pulse blaring in his ears but his cheeks were wet and he clawed at his chest as he tried to breathe. Joseph was in the armchair, body half falling off with blood dripping from his small head.

“No…” he wailed, swaying on his feet as he stumbled over. His hands shook, hovering over the boy before he carefully lifted him so he didn't fall, leaning him against the chair. Tears fell in rivulets, loud and gut wrenching sobs tearing at his throat as he cradled the boy's bloody head. 

Tommy, where's Tommy? His lower lip quivered as he released Joseph, looking around with blurry eyes as he tried to make sense of what happened. He needed to find Tommy. Tommy had to be okay. He moved around the room before going into the kitchen and something broke in him completely at the sight of his baby brother laying on the floor in a pool of blood. An agonised noise left his lips as he fell to his knees on the floor, arms going around his brother uncaring of the blood. He was cold, so cold and he sobbed, clutching Tommy as if it would breathe life back into him. Bad dream, had to be a bad dream, need to wake up, wake up. 

“Was hoping you’d show up.”

The voice made him whip around, eyes widening to see Washington, one his squad mates who had also been taken. He’d thought he’d died. The man looked at him with cold eyes, devoid of the life he’d known them to be and it all clicked in his head. He’d been turned, been sent here to dole out Simon’s punishment for getting away, for not bending to Roba’s will. They’d died because of him. 

He set his brother's body down, standing up to his full height. He towered over Washington but the man was unflinching, gun dangling in his hand. Big mistake. So much pain and rage swept through him that he could hardly contain it. He lunged at him and the fucker wasn’t prepared for it. The gun clattered to the ground but Simon didn't care about that, didn’t need a fucking weapon because he was one. 

He knocked him onto the floor and Washington tried to scramble away, shocked when Simon’s fist collided with his temple and stunned him. But he didn't stop there, couldn't stop there. His fist hit and hit and hit and hit until the man's head was nothing but a pile of broken bones and mush. Until there was brain matter dangling out of his useless split open skull. Until there was no noise coming from the man other than the sick squelching of his head. His rage knew no bounds, ragged breaths ripping in and out of his lungs violently. He couldn't make sense of how he got here, couldn't make sense of anything. Charlotte. Oh god no. 

He took off with his heart in his throat, tearing out of the house and running down the street at inhuman speed. The fear he felt was like nothing else he’d ever experienced as he kept running until he felt sick. He pushed himself until their house came into view, Christmas lights up in the window. He came to a screeching halt at the living room window, seeing Lottie folding up washing and putting it on the couch to sort out. 

The relief he felt made him crumple to his knees, vomit projecting out of him at a painful speed and onto the driveway. She was alive, she was okay. She wouldn't be though. Roba would come for her, he’d get her because she was all Simon had left and his heart ran cold at the notion. His family were dead. Gone completely. He’d never see his mum's warm smile, see Beth’s kind eyes or hear sweet Joseph's laugh again. And Tommy… he’d never hear his stupid jokes again, never roll his eyes at him, never give him big brotherly advice, never hear him poke fun at him for anything and everything. His baby brother who he’d fought so hard to protect his entire life and he’d failed him. He was dead because of him, he’d killed him. 

He wished he’d died back in Mexico so he didn't have to endure the searing pain ripping through his soul. And if he lost Lottie… no, he couldn’t, he fucking refused. He quickly left before she saw him, a plan forming in his mind. He needed to kill Roba, she’d never be safe if he didn’t. Would she be safe even if he did? This proved his line of work was dangerous and he’d made many enemies over the years. He'd never really thought it would bleed into his personal life and now look what happened. 

He couldn't do that to her. Having her alive was better than having her with him temporarily just to die because of him. The idea of leaving her like that was painful, he knew just what he was doing by breaking his promise of leaving her alone, but he had no choice. He couldn't have her die because of him. He had to make this right somehow, how to get justice and revenge for his family, had to keep his wife safe even if he had to hurt her in order to do that. He made his way back to his mum's house, a sick feeling festering in his stomach like an infected wound. 

There was this eerie emptiness that suddenly wrapped around him like a blanket and he welcomed it. Something shifted within himself and he felt it deep in his core. Simon Riley didn't exist anymore, there was nothing left but an empty shell of a man. A ghost, doomed to haunt the earth as his penance. And so, he did the only thing that made sense, setting fire to the house in some kind of funeral pyre for his family, leaving his tags on that murdering cunts neck so he could finally kill himself once and for all. 

The one thing he grabbed before he left was the gift he’d made for Charlotte. He didn't have much left of her now, this was it. He’d left his tags behind as much as it wounded him, but he could keep this. Remind himself he was doing this for her. 

When he was far enough away from the house, he made the trek into the city centre, head down and avoiding everyone. He finally got to his destination, chest heavy with grief as he eyed the bus stop in front of him. He could almost envision himself sitting there as if he was a spectator, watch Lottie stroll up in that little dress, watch her pluck his cold heart right out of his chest and warm it up. 

He blinked rapidly, tears falling down his miserable and marred face, moving over to sit down, clutching the gift tightly. He wished so badly he could say goodbye to her, to feel her embrace, to feel her soft kiss just one more time, but in a way he knew he’d never be able to leave her if he saw her tearful face. He rummaged in his pockets, reaching out the two gifts off John. A pocket knife and a burner phone. He flicked the knife out, scratching into the metal seat at his side carefully. 

S.R 

<3

C.R

Maybe she’d see that one day, maybe she’d see it and know it was him, maybe it would comfort her. His lower lip wobbled horribly and he wiped at his eyes, pressing call on the only contact in his phone. 

“Hello?” he answered after two rings. 

“Price… I need help,” he choked out, unable to stay strong under the unbreakable weight of his pain. 

He willed that coldness to come back to him, that emptiness was much easier to handle than all of this emotion. He needed to bury himself, needed to become nothing but a ghost so he could carry out his revenge and keep Charlotte safe. He didn't deserve to have a happy life with her like he’d longed for, was stupid for ever thinking it was possible really, wasn't he? He was nothing but bad luck, cursing everyone he loved to a painful death. He’d never be able to make up for what he’d caused but he’d spend the rest of his miserable life making sure Charlotte wouldn't suffer the same fate. 

[ppersonna]

swipe right - jjk | m

“ i wanna ruin our friendship. we should be lovers instead. i don't know how to say this, cause you're really my dearest friend “ - jenny, studio killers

♡ summary-  after a horrible breakup, you sign back up for tinder and ironically match with your best friend, jungkook. a date for fun is harmless, right?

♡ genre- best friends to lovers, idiots to lovers, jk is a minecraft streamer, brother namjoon, brother-in-law jimin, namjoon is kind of a himbo stay at home dad ngl, ex-boyfriend seokjin (mentioned but doesnt show up)

♡ word count- 9k

♡ warnings- mentions of a bad breakup (smh seokjin wtf??), penetrative sex, unprotected sex (u know the business folx), oral sex (m receiving), teasing, SO MUCH BODY WORSHIP, jk is a simp, slight dirty talk, lots of just talking during sex yall it happens, creampie, cum play, praise praise body worship praise, did i mention body worship, tit-fucking, cum eating, i think thats all.

♡ a/n - helloooo and thank you for your wait for this fic! i’m so happy its done and i loved writing it! it’s a little bit different feel for my usual style of writing (smut-wise) so please tell me your thoughts! i didn’t use dom/sub themes OR a daddy kink LMAOOOO praise me please. i hope you enjoy!! pls feel free to comment, chat, message, carrier pigeon, email, mail, WHATEVER U WANT, me. i love u babies. thank you to @kimtaehyunq​ for the sexy banner. and for @xjoonchildx @ladyartemesia​ @untaemedqueen​ for the writing support and idea generation. i would be nothing without my council. and thank you to my beta editors @hobi-gif and @ughseoks​ and @hongism​ for the perusal and help in writing this!

Jungkook is the person you call when your world falls apart.

He answers, voice raspy from the late hour, and the second he asks you what’s wrong, the downpour of torrential tears you’ve been holding back finally escapes and you’re sobbing through the phone that you just lost the love of your life—that he left and with little effort on his part, and a lot on yours.

Jungkook listens to you—his heart aching deep in his chest at hearing the utter heartbreak that’s clear in your voice. You’ve never been hurt like this, and he’s desperate to hold you, to make it go away. He wants to drive over to Seokjin’s house and throw a left hook into his stupid, handsome face for making you feel you weren’t worth it.

Because if there’s anything in the world that Jungkook knows, it’s that you’re worth it. You’re worth everything. Add up all the money and all the gold in the entire world, and it still doesn’t meet a fraction of what you’re worth to him.

“Where are you?” He asks as he cradles the phone against one arm and pulls on his jeans.  

You sniffle. “Jungkook, it’s 3 am.”

“So? I was up playing Minecraft,” He lies. “Where are you?”

You can’t help but laugh the tiniest bit, a sliver of warmth wrapping itself around your raw and exposed heart. Like a balm to a flesh wound. It doesn’t heal it, not yet.

“I’m at our park.”

Jungkook smiles as he grips the phone back in his hand. The park. The place you and Jungkook spent your childhood playing make-believe games, and formative teenage years loitering around smoking clove cigarettes to look cool.

“Give me five minutes, okay?”

You nod, even though he can’t see you. 

“Okay.”

Jungkook arrives with two minutes to spare. His beat up Nissan that he insists is “vintage” and “priceless” idles next to you.

He can see you through the darkened glass of your car—your mascara is running down your face, tears streaked through your flawlessly applied makeup.

You still look so beautiful.

And it angers Jungkook that all that time you spent looking good for Seokjin meant nothing to him.

He motions for you to come over, pats the passenger seat next to him and smiles as he watches you open the door and slide into the security of his familiar car.

“You cleaned your car,” you murmur as you notice a severe lack of McDonald’s trash.

He sniffs haughtily. 

“The trash added character.”

Jungkook doesn’t give you a chance to respond. Instead, he’s unbuckling his seatbelt and pulling you as close to him as he can get you. The instant his arms wrap around your body, the floodgates open again and your once-quieted tears turn back into full-fledged sobs.

“I loved him,” you gasp through the pain in your throat.

He rubs your back, pats your hair gently, soothing you the way he has for years now. Through every breakup, through every family fight with your older brother Namjoon, through all the mean girls in high school. Jungkook is the north star—always consistent, always guiding you back to safety.

“I know, babe,” he sighs. “You deserve someone who’s going to treat you right, who’s not just going to give up when things get hard.”

You choke back a cry against his Patagonia hoodie and bury your face further into the crook of his neck. He smells like Old Spice and the shampoo he uses, along with the smell of laundry soap you buy for him—he uses dish soap when he runs out and nearly broke his washing machine last time.

“I thought he was the one. I’m so stupid.”

Jungkook swallows hard. Tonight is about comforting you, not about feeling sorry for himself that you’re his best friend and not his girlfriend. He can’t help but think of what kind of life he would give you. He knows it’s one that wouldn’t end with you crying in a parking lot at 3 AM.

“You’re not stupid, you just loved him. And there’s nothing stupid about loving someone, even if it doesn’t work out,” he sighs as he cradles your head against him. It feels right having you there, pressed up against him and seeking comfort from the solace of his arms.

“Let’s go get a milkshake, yeah?” He asks as you pull your head up and look at him with sad, glassy eyes.

“Yeah,” you nod after a moment of staring.

Jungkook’s eyes sparkle with love, with hope. It makes the desperate, alone feeling inside you—disappear. Jungkook presses a soft kiss to your forehead and then starts the shaky ignition of his car, that takes three cranks of the key before it turns over.

He sends you a look, a laugh evident on your face.

“Don’t even start,” he warns. “The engine is fine.”

“Whatever you say,” you snort as you wipe an errant tear from your face.  

“It’s a certified classic car! I could get millions for this baby!”

As the weeks pass, the pain of losing Seokjin becomes further and further from your mind. You can get through the day without crying anytime you see something that reminds you of him and even start flirting with others without feeling like you’re cheating.

You just still haven’t reached the point where dating someone else even feels possible. You’re terrified of allowing someone close to you, letting them into a place where you’re inviting them to possibly hurt you. You’re not sure your heart is ready for it. 

“I think you’re just scared,” your older brother Namjoon states as he warms up a bottle of milk in boiling water. 

He cradles his new baby in one arm while the other works at the bottle of milk. 

“I’m not scared,” you huff. “I just don’t think it’s the right time.” 

Namjoon sighs and hands the gurgling newborn baby off to you and readies the bottle for you to feed your new niece, Jisoo. 

“Look, Seokjin sucks, okay? I know you two were together for some time, but in the end, he wasn’t the right one for you. There’s someone out there who is the right one for you. You know how many shit frogs I had to kiss before I got my prince?” 

You make a face as you feed Jisoo, who happily sucks and gazes at the lights above. 

“You call Jimin a prince?” 

Namjoon sighs dreamily as he watches the baby and thinks of his husband. 

“The dreamiest prince,” he breathes, eyes closed in bliss. “But back to your problems. I think you should get back out there. Go on some dates, meet some people. No one is telling you to fall in love and get married tomorrow. Just go have some fun.” 

You allow Namjoon’s words to mull through your mind. What could be the harm in joining a few dating sites, perhaps spending some time at the gym or grocery store flirting with someone cute?

“Fine,” you say. “I’ll think about it.” 

“Good. I can’t be the only one giving our parents grand-babies. Soo needs a cousin.” 

You smile down at the tiny bundle in your arms and imagine a future where you have a baby of your own. 

“Okay, I’m not trying to get knocked up, Joon.” 

“Whatever,” he sighs. “Help me choose a wall color for me and Jimin’s new master bathroom.” 

Tinder’s changed since the last time you used it, years ago. It’s gone from any semblance of dating to strictly an app used to get laid. 

It’s discouraging swiping through all the obvious fuckboys. Sure, a quick and easy lay sounds great, but you’re also trying to go out and enjoy real, traditional dates, and it seems none of these guys want to step foot outside of a bedroom. 

The swiping left becomes almost monotonous. You’re sitting on your couch, watching some documentary about serial killers, when a startling profile pops up on your Tinder feed. 

The picture that pops up is... Jungkook. You can’t stop the bubble of laughter that leaps from your chest. His profile is so authentically Jungkook that you’re swiping right before you even know it. 

Your brain doesn’t even comprehend what a match with Jungkook means, really. You’re still laughing as you click on the bubble to message him and send him as many laugh emojis as you can. 

“Hey guys, what’s up, Kookie here with another Let’s Play Minecraft video for ya. Be sure to like and subscribe if you enjoy this kind of content.”

Jungkook’s headset is firmly wrapped around his head, mic next to his mouth and hands at the ready on his mouse and keyboard. He’s set and in the zone. 

The game is well into play when the familiar chime of his phone goes off. It’s a Tinder notification—he can tell by the sound. He can’t help but roll his eyes, wondering what sort of boring conversation he’s meant to have with a girl who will probably ghost him, anyway. 

He lazily lifts his phone and glances at the notification, before dropping it back to the desk. 

His hand freezes on his mouse as he finally comprehends what he just read. 

He just matched with YOU. 

His best friend. 

His secret, lifelong crush. 

He sputters something into the microphone and stops recording his game, wildly grasping for the phone and unlocking it. 

YN: 😂😂😂😂 is your bio a Minecraft pickup line?!

He pauses, attempts to collect his thoughts, before desperately typing on his screen. 

JUNGKOOK: Why? 😉😏 did it work?

You spend the rest of your night jokingly flirting with Jungkook, sending GIFs and emojis in between the silly lines you’re using on each other. 

Right before you’re about to head to sleep, Jungkook sends one last message. 

JUNGKOOK: What if we went on a date lolol. Haha jk. Unless?? 👀👀👀

Your thumbs hover over the keys to your phone. 

A date with Jungkook? Even though you matched with him, you’ve never thought of a date with your childhood best friend. 

YN: alright, it’s only fair since we matched 😝 show me how you treat these tinder ladies

“I have a date with Jungkook tonight,” you tell your brother, Namjoon, over the phone. 

Over the crying of your newborn niece, you hear Namjoon splutter in confusion. 

“You what!?” He nearly screams. “Jeon Jungkook? Like... the annoying kid you’ve been friends with since fourth grade?”

You huff. 

“He’s not annoying! He’s my best friend. We ironically matched on Tinder and… Well, why the fuck not? Nothing serious is going to happen. We’ll go out and have a story to tell about how incompatible we are.”

Namjoon doesn’t reply. Instead, you hear him speak to his husband. 

“She’s going on a date with Jungkook,” he says over the muffle of his hand on the receiver.

There’s a shuffle, and the dulcet voice of your brother-in-law, Jimin, comes over the line. 

“Girl,” he starts. “What the fuck?”

You chuckle as you move about your closet, trying to decide what’s appropriate to wear on a date with your best friend. 

“It’s nothing!” 

“Mm-hmm,” Jimin tuts. “You know the boy is in love with you.” 

“Okay, Chim, you’ve been spending too much time cooped up with my brother. It’s affecting your grip on reality.”

“Sure, honey. I just tell it like it is. Don’t break his heart.” 

You roll your eyes. 

“I won’t break his heart because there’s nothing there, Jimin.”

“I’ll be expecting your call later.”

“Yes, dad. Love you guys.”

“We love you too, sweetheart. But really, don’t break that poor boy’s heart.”

You open your mouth to retort yet another reassurance that there’s nothing to break, but the line goes dead.

“Fucking Jimin,” you mutter as you throw your phone to the bed.

You can’t allow yourself to think that Jungkook might have feelings for you. It’s totally out of the questions. He’s your best friend. The guy who shoves Cheetos up his nose to make you laugh and falls asleep during every movie night with his face in the popcorn bowl. He’s just Jungkook. This date is just a funny way to hang out.

So, why do you care so much about what you wear?

You’re still standing in front of your closet, attempting to find something respectable to wear. It doesn’t matter that the last time Jungkook saw you; it was with mascara streaming down your face and a hoodie from Namjoon’s college swimming days and ripped leggings. Jungkook has seen you in nearly everything you wear, so your indecisiveness gives you pause.

Do you want Jungkook to be attracted to you? Do you want to do your best to look as presentable as you would for a normal date?

The thudding of your heart tells you that maybe you’re more interested in this being a date than you’re allowing yourself to believe.

You shake all thoughts off. 

No, you won’t allow yourself to overthink a night that should just be fun.

You settle for a fitted and simple summer dress, tights and heels. Simple, easy, respectable but also showing enough cleavage and sculpt of your ass to ensure you look more dressed up than not.

Perfect.

With one last look in the mirror, you’re ready.

JUNGKOOK: I’m outside!

ME: See you soon!

Jungkook taps his foot anxiously as he sits on the bench outside your apartment. His tight black jeans feel like a second skin on his legs, and the black button-down shirt he’s tucked in makes him rethink his choice of outfit.

Is he too casual?

He’s never really worn something like this around you. This is what Jungkook wears when he wants to seduce. This is what every girl he’s desperately wished was you got to see. The girls who swooned over his messy hair, the way his jeans display his toned thighs, the peek of skin at his throat.

Maybe it’s too much.

Maybe he’s afraid he’ll scare you away.

Maybe he’s afraid you won’t like it.

He’s given no chance to ruminate anymore because you’re exiting the building and walking straight towards him.

He doesn’t think he remembers how to breathe.

It’s as if you walk towards him in slow motion. Angels chorus around him and the setting sun sparkles on your face like a spotlight. There’s nothing in the world anymore, nothing but you.

You’re the most beautiful human he’s ever seen in his life.

“Hi,” you smile as you approach him.

He continues to stare, eyes traveling over the soft curves of your cheeks and jaw, trailing down to the way your dress clings just right to each dip of your body. His throat goes dry.

You are without a doubt the girl of his dreams. 

“Jungkook?”

It pushes him out of his reverie, eyes widening as he realizes he’s been staring at you for maybe a few minutes too long to play off as normal.

“Hey!” He coughs, attempting to right himself.

“You okay?” You ask, eyebrow lifted in concern.

“Yeah! Yup! Totally! I’m okay—a-okay, absolutely great.” He internally slaps himself.

“You clean up nice,” you smile as your eyes elevate up and down the lean form of his body.

“Oh?” He asks, taken aback. 

In his daze, he never even realized what you’re thinking about him, rather only how intensely he was thinking about you.

“This must be the Jungkook that all the girls in college couldn’t stop begging me to hook them up with.”

His cheeks flame with sudden embarrassment, hand moving to the back of his neck to rub it awkwardly. 

“Ha, yeah,” he swallows. “You look r-really nice too. I don’t think I’ve seen you in a dress since your brother’s wedding.”

The smile that he’s rewarded with nearly knocks him on his ass. “Thanks! It’s fun to dress up cute again. Jin hated this dress.”

A stab of pain eeks its way into Jungkook’s heart. Seokjin. God, how he hates that man.

“Well, uh, you can wear whatever you want with me!” He assures. 

You loop your arm around Jungkook’s, saddling up to his side as you look at him expectantly.

“Well, are we going?”

Jungkook can’t help but smile at the sparkle in your eye, the way you peer up at him with those soft, cherry lips. He wants to capture them with his own, kiss you until you don’t remember Seokjin’s name ever again.

But he resists.

“Let’s go!”

You never thought you’d admit it to yourself. You never even thought it could happen. 

But the date is everything you’ve ever wanted, and more. 

Jungkook is still Jungkook, still just as silly and easy to talk to as he always is. 

But he’s also charming. Flirtatious, even. He holds doors open for you; he rests his hand on the small of your back as he guides you towards your table at dinner. He feeds you bites of his dessert and lets his eyes linger on the way your lips look wrapped around his fork. 

Jungkook treats you the way you’ve always wanted to be treated. Like someone he wants to cherish for the rest of your combined lives. Someone he wants to take care of, build a future with, enjoy life with.

And as much as it thrills you, it absolutely frightens you. 

It’s when you’re walking down the small river trail together that Jungkook slips his hand into yours and laces your fingers together. The once-steady beat of your heart becomes erratic. He continues chatting—as if holding your hand was a subconscious act for him. He’s knee deep in a story of his Minecraft server when you stop walking, causing him to pause. 

“What’s up?” He asks curiously. 

Your eyes glitter with anticipation, with fear, as you stare at the gorgeous man before you. He looks like a full course meal in his tight jeans and he makes you feel like a princess. You can suddenly see doing life by his side—no longer his platonic best friend, but as his lover and lifelong partner. 

You say nothing. Instead, you simply close the space between you two by grabbing the buttons of his shirt and tugging his lips onto yours. 

“Wha—oh, mmmmmm.”

Jungkook is still for a second as he battles the surprise, but jumps into action and cups your face with his hands, deepening the kiss by pushing his tongue past your lips and swirling it around your own. 

Your bodies press close together. He can feel your breasts against his chest and he desperately wants to rip the dress off your body and worship you like he’s always wanted to. 

As soon as the kiss started, it’s over. You’re pulling away with eyes wide with fear.

“I’m sorry, I—I need to go,” you stammer awkwardly.

Jungkook’s heart drops to his stomach.

“What? We were going to get ice cream?”

You can feel tears building in the corners of your eyes. You’re so confused, so unsure of what you’re feeling. You want to stay and kiss Jungkook until you’re clawing at the clothing on his body, pressing kisses to the firm column of his neck. You want to run far away, too scared to admit it to him you’re sure you could love him for the rest of his life.

You can’t lose that friendship. You can’t risk everything you love about Jungkook. He’ll only hurt you the way every boyfriend ever has.

“I don’t really feel well,” you swallow hard as you lie. Jungkook always knows when you’re lying.

His body stiffens.

“Okay, let me walk you home.”

You shake your head, already moving away from the man.

“It’s fine. We’re nearby. I’ll just run or something.”

He opens his mouth to protest, but you’ve already turned face and started running the direction away from him.

Jungkook watches, misty-eyed, as the girl of his dreams runs further and further away from him.

You’re sobbing as you finally reach home, out of breath and confused. The phone call to Namjoon is quick.

“Yo,” he says cooly as he answers the phone. His tone changes when he hears your whimpering sobs on the other end.

“Joonie,” you whisper. “I fucked up.”

“Oh god,” Namjoon quickly shuffles and calls his husband over, before putting the phone on speaker.

“What’s happened, baby?” Jimin’s sweet voice asks.

“I—I kissed him,” you sob, holding yourself close in the comfort of the elevator. 

Namjoon and Jimin look at each other with knowing looks.

“We’re on our way over.”

Jimin knows the first order of business is to stop the crying. He places sleeping baby Jisoo in your arms, which quiets your whimpers enough as you cling to the tiny baby. He knows your weakness is sleeping babies.

Namjoon looks on anxiously, hates seeing his little sister upset and with no way to make it better.

Jimin’s been asked to take the lead on this, because he knows his husband's response is to cry as well—he gets emotional anytime he sees her cry. Namjoon agreed, knowing Jimin was better suited for the conversation.

“Tell us what happened,” Jimin asks quietly. You’re rocking the baby gently, sobs turned to sniffles. “Did something go wrong on the date?”

Your eyes peer up at your brother-in-law’s, a wounded look that makes Jimin feel sad. Namjoon clenches beside him, and Jimin lays a hand on his lap to soothe the protective brother.

“No,” you whisper. “That’s the thing. It was an amazing date.”

Jimin watches you curiously, but remains silent to let you continue.

“We had dinner, and we played arcade games and we walked around. And he was so… fuck, he was perfect. It was like dating the guy of my dreams.”

Jimin nods knowingly.

“And it surprised you how much you liked him.”

“Yeah,” you sniffle. “At the end, he was holding my hand and just talking about normal, stupid Jungkook shit, but this time it felt like more. Like, I felt in my heart that I wanted to be the one he always talked to about it. I wanted to be the one he came home to at night.”

Jimin pats your cheek lovingly, the care for his sister-in-law clear in his gaze. 

“You don’t just like him, honey. I think you might even love him.”  

You pull baby Jisoo tighter into your grasp and nod, pathetic tears slipping down your face. 

“I just left him. Like, I ran away from him like an asshole.”

Namjoon grunts and takes a spot next to Jimin. “If he loves you, which I’m sure he does, he’ll still be waiting for you.”

Jimin nods and rests a hand on his husband's back. “But you better have one hell of an apology.”

Jungkook doesn’t answer your phone calls. He doesn’t respond to your texts, snapchats or Instagram DM’s. He doesn’t even look at the TikToks you sent him! It’s becoming infuriating to get in touch with him.

You take matters into your own hands and storm to his apartment after work, the rising tension in your shoulders and stomach full of rocks an indicator of your anxiety about the future of this relationship.

Jungkook opens the door wearing nothing but a pair of grey sweats. All the carefully crafted words exit your mind at light 

speed and you’re left gasping, wide-eyed at the chiseled body of your best friend.

“Can I help you?” He asks, tone flat.

Ouch.

You push past him into the apartment you know so well. “Yeah, you could start by answering your phone.”

Jungkook rolls his eyes and closes the door, then heads back towards the large gaming setup in the living room.

“My apologies for not responding to the girl who literally ran away from me on a date.”

Your cheeks heat uncomfortably as you stand in the center of his living room, arms crossed over your chest. 

“Jungkook, listen. I’m—”

“Please,” he shakes his head as he sits down at the impressive gaming chair. “Save the apologies. I get it.”

“You don’t get it!” You say, exasperated. “You don’t get any of it! That’s why I’m here.”

Jungkook narrows a look at you then stands from his chair. Slowly, he makes his way towards you and stands inches from your face. The proximity of his bare, toned chest to your body makes your throat dry.

“No, you don’t get it.” His voice is threateningly quiet, completely different from his usual chipper tone. 

“Jungkook, I’m sorry.”

“Sorry for what?” He quirks his head sarcastically, and you’re struck by the sharp lines of his jaw. “Sorry for running away from the date? Sorry for going on a date? Sorry for making me feel like I had a fucking chance when you kissed me?”

You swallow hard and open your mouth to reply, but he cuts you off.

“I’m sorry too. For giving myself way too much hope that this could ever be something. I’m sorry for myself for thinking you’d at least respect me enough to reject me politely.”

“You always had a chance!” You can feel tears building in your eyes and Jungkook feels his heart pound in his chest like a drum.

He scoffs, a harsh and mirthless laugh. “Clearly not.”

“I just—,” you start. “I never saw you like that before and suddenly you became everything I’ve ever dreamed of. It was like getting hit by a train, Kook! Suddenly my best friend turned into the man of my dreams.”

He shakes his head, stepping back away from you.

“I really find it hard to believe you,” he whispers. “I can’t let myself hope.”

“Jungkook, please,” you beg as tears start slipping down your face. “Please believe me.”

“Just leave,” he sighs. “I hate making you cry.”

You want so badly to wrap yourself in his arms, cry into his chest like you always do when you’re hurt. But you stand still, frozen in your shame and embarrassment of hurting your best friend so badly.

“I’m sorry,” you murmur, before you spin around as quickly as you can and leave Jungkook’s apartment in a flurry.

He watches as the door slams behind you, eyes full of sadness and regret. As much as he wants to believe you, have faith in every word you said, he can’t allow himself to get his hopes up again.

He can’t watch you run away from him again.

“Welcome back to Kookie’s Wild Weekly Walkthrough!” Jungkook cheers as enthusiastically as he can through his microphone. “The weekly segment where I react to your Minecraft worlds!”

Jungkook needed to dive back into streaming to take his mind off of you. He hasn’t left his apartment in days, only subsisting on takeout and coffee. At least he was making more money and his subscribers didn’t seem to mind the up-tick in content.

“Tonight I’ll be walking through a creation sent by,” he squints at the username. “‘Kookiesgal95’ Aww that’s cute.”  

He readies the content and starts his camera as he watches the YouTube link. His subscribers love his reaction videos—it’s a highly requested segment.

The video starts off easily, a generic Minecraft world that looks like a park.

“Hi Kook.”

The voice that reverberates through his headphones makes him pause the video quickly, wide-eyed with recognition.

It’s you. He’d know that voice from a million others. 

Shit. He’s going to have to edit so much of this clip. He’s staring at the screen as if he’s just seen a ghost.

Unsteadily, he clicks play again and watches as you lead him through your Minecraft creation.

“I wanted to recreate something for someone very special in my life.”

Jungkook doesn’t even bother to react to this anymore. This entire video is going to be worthless—there’s nothing he can say.

The video pans around the Minecraft setup and he can see what looks like handmade swings and merry go rounds.

“It took me a really long time to do this and an embarrassing amount of help from some twelve-year-olds on the internet.”

He laughs and is stunned by the wet tears rolling down his cheeks. He hadn’t realized he was crying.

“I re-created a park that is really special to my best friend and I.”

He feels his chest tighten and relax. The park. 

“This is the spot where he held me when my dog died when I was nine. I still miss that dog.”

The view is on a spot next to a blocky oak tree. Jungkook remembers that day, remembers your heartbroken sobs as he whispered words of comfort to you. He misses that dog, too. 

“This is where he and my brother got in a fight when we were eleven, because my brother called me a stupid-head. My best friend has always been protective of me, even from my own big brother.”

He can still remember pushing Namjoon around after hearing him call you names. He pushed Namjoon over and threatened to use his “big muscles” if he did it again.

The camera pans to an enormous structure, rather sloppily made, of a slide and monkey bars.

“This is where we first shared a joint in high school. I coughed a lung up and he ran down the street to a gas station at ten pm to get me a bottle of water even though I told him I was okay,”

The memory of the bewildered 7-11 employee plays through his mind. The man watched as a very stoned, very out of breath, Jungkook paid for a bottle of water in coins.

The video continues playing, moves towards what appears to be a parking lot made of cobblestone blocks.

“This is where he held me when my world fell apart.”

The break-up. The way you cried and cried and cried in his arms and he held you as if you were the only thing left on Earth. 

“This is where he reminded me I’m worthy of love, that I’m not broken. This is where he held me like I was delicate, but treated me like I was unbreakable.”

His tears don’t stop. Jungkook feels his heart thundering in his chest like a summer storm. 

He can hear your sniffles through the recording of the video—you were crying too. It pans around to the swing set.

“And this is where I’ll tell him everything, tonight. Where I’ll tell him how deeply I love him and how I want to make him the happiest guy in the world. In all of Minecraft and beyond. I hope he comes.”

Jungkook doesn’t even bother turning his camera off.

Instead, he’s running to change out of his three-day-old clothes and bolt out the door.

The creaky, rusty metal of the swing set is deafeningly loud in the silence of your park.

It’s dark, just a few street lights around to illuminate the perimeter, but it’s otherwise only lit by the moon.

It’s getting cold. You shiver in your hoodie and kick at the dirt under your swing. 

Maybe he didn’t see the video. Maybe he wasn’t going to show.

Maybe it was too late.

You spent hours working on the Minecraft world, staying up at all hours of the night to build and craft a poor re-creation of this park. The twelve-year-olds on Reddit had been invaluable and Namjoon definitely made fun of you for your creative assistants. But it had all been worth it. 

“Fuck,” you speak out loud to no one, as you try to warm your hands in the pockets of your sweater. “It’s cold.”

“You should have brought a jacket.”

The sudden voice from behind startles you. You hop off the swing and whip around to face  down the intruder.

Jungkook.

He looks so good. He’s wearing a thick coat and tight jeans. Your eyes take a delicious journey from head to toe.

He can’t help but preen at your blatant appreciation. He enjoys knowing you’re attracted to him, at least physically.

“You came.”

He nods and takes a nervous step towards you. He’s still far away, more than an arm's-reach away. You’re desperate to bring him closer, to pull him tight against your body and wrap yourself around him. You never want to be without his gentle touch again.

“I felt pretty compelled to come after you made all this in Minecraft for me.” He cracks a wry smile, a boy-ish grin that makes your heart flutter.

“It took me twenty-five hours and some teenagers to help.”

He laughs, a beautiful sound that warms you. “I’m sure they were ecstatic to help.”

You chew at the inside of your cheek, nervous at what he thinks about your in-game confession.

“Did you mean it?” He asks. He steps closer—one more step.

“Every word.”

His eyes are searching yours for the truth, desperately diving into the depths for validity.

“Why did you run away?” Another step.

You swallow hard, heavy tears brimming in your eyes.

“You went from being the silly best friend to being the person I could spend the rest of my life with. It all hit me. It’s always been you.”

One more step and now he’s just within your reach. If you stuck your hand out, your fingers would graze the soft puff of his coat, the delicate skin of his neck. 

“I’ve always felt that way about you. I never thought you’d feel the same.”

You smile softly, timidly. “It just took me a little while longer to realize it.”

All at once, Jungkook closes the gap and holds you gently by your cheeks. His thumbs wipe at the moisture under your eyes. 

“I promise to never make you cry again,” he whispers reverently. 

“And I promise to never run away from you again.” 

Jungkook smiles at that, cradling your face like you’re the most expensive and precious jewel. 

“Can I kiss you again?” He asks, somewhat unsure of himself. 

“I would like it if you would.”

As Jungkook presses his cold, plush lips to your own, you make a promise to yourself to never go a day without kissing him again. 

“I can’t believe you’re in my bedroom,” Jungkook murmurs as he kisses at your face. After the park, Jungkook loaded you into his priceless Nissan and scurried home. You could hardly keep your hands off him as he drove you back to his place—reaching and caressing the spots on his body you’re dying to become familiar with. 

“I’ve been in your bedroom before,” you remind him as he tugs up the hoodie you’re wearing. 

“God, don’t be so semantic when I’m trying to fuck you,” he says before throwing the hoodie to a corner of the room. “You know what I mean.”

Jungkook kisses you again, all lips and teeth and tongue. He kisses you like you’re the last breath of air, and he’s greedy for every bit. He grips your hips, not too tight, and brings your body against his. You can feel him grow in hardness in his too tight, and it feels like bliss. 

Teasingly, you grind your hips against his, making him shudder with desire.

“I want you,” he whines as he nibbles at your lip. 

“Really? I couldn’t tell.”

He opens his eyes to level a look at you, pulling his mouth away from yours. 

“You’re such a little smartass.”

His hands become feverish on your jeans, tugging apart the button and flicking down the fly. He pushes them down quickly, and you kick them off carelessly. 

He can’t stop looking at you in your bra and panties, standing at the foot of his bed. 

“Holy shit, okay, this is happening, right? Like, this is real?” 

You smirk, pleased with Jungkook’s obvious excitement. 

“Let me prove it’s not just a dream.” 

Softly, you spin Jungkook around and push him down to sit on his bed. He complies easily, eyes wide and excited. 

“If this is a dream, would you be able to feel this?” You ask as you unbuckle  his belt and open his jeans. He doesn’t reply, simply watches you as you tug his jeans down to his thighs. 

His cock strains hard against his tight boxers, and you run a teasing finger over the obvious bulge. 

“Oh fuck,” he breathes. 

“Feels pretty real, huh?”

“Y-yeah.” 

Your delicate hands gently tug at the waistband of his boxers and easily work them down enough to free the length of his cock. It springs out easily and your eyes widen at the impressive size. You assumed he would be at least average, but you’re looking at something definitely more. 

“Oh wow,” you whisper. “You’re fucking huge.” 

Jungkook grins. “All for you, baby.” The cockiness is palpable. 

One solid grip around him wipes the presumptuous smile off his face, replaced with a gasping, shuddering moan. 

“How about this? Not a dream?”

He struggles to find his voice, instead he’s gulping for air like a fish out of water. 

“That’s what I thought,” you whisper before settling into a position on your knees. “I’ll admit, I’ve dreamt about this too. I always felt so ashamed for dreaming about sucking my best friend's cock.”

You press soft kisses to the head of his length, teasing the sensitive areas at the tip before kissing up and down the length. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

His evident desire for you encourages you, and your tongue swipes at the crown of his tip and swirls around it gently. 

“Oh my god.” His eyes shutter closed and you trace the veins in his dick with your tongue. 

“This h-has to be a dreeeaaaaam,” he whines as you make an exceptionally long stripe with the flat of your tongue. 

You pull off for a moment, humming. He springs his eyes open and watches as you reach behind your back and unsnap your bra. Your breasts escape with a bounce and his eyes widen, nearly bulging out of their sockets. 

“What the fuck,” he whines. “You have the most amazing tits.”

He reaches out to grasp them and you slap them away playfully. 

“Not yet,” you smirk. “Still trying to convince you you’re not asleep.” 

He sucks in his breath and puts his hands back to the bed to steady himself, eyes never leaving yours (except to stare at the luscious curves of your body). 

Grasping your breasts in both hands, you smash them together lightly in an elaborate show of what Jungkook wants most. You lean over his body and place the throbbing thickness of his cock in between your tits, allowing him to feel just how soft and warm they are. 

“Shit!” He yelps, grabbing his sheets in a tight fist. “Are you really tit-fucking me right now?!”

Slowly, you lift your body up and down, allowing his cock to feel each stroke of your breasts. You nod at his question and continue to pump up and down. 

“Still dreaming?” 

He whines and shakes his head, already feeling so close to the edge. His cock is slick from your teasing licks and the pressure of your tits surrounding him had his mind spinning with desire. 

“Ahhh, I’m so fucking close,” he warns.

You continue, speeding up the friction and pressure of your strokes. 

“I want you to cum on me, Kook,” you whisper encouragingly. “Cum on my tits, please?”

Jungkook feels like he’s a wire about to snap, and your thick, sultry voice and incredibly perfect breasts are the snips that breaks him apart. 

“Oh, shit,” he grunts. “Gonna paint your titties white, baby.”

His moans echo around the walls of his bedroom, small gasps of pleasure and your name escaping his perfectly plump pout. 

His hot load splatters on your chest, and you stroke him through each pulse of his cock. You’re slippery with his seed now, and when you pull away from his spent length, you make a show of rubbing in his cum over your chest.

“Okay, definitely not dreaming,” he says in a daze as he watches you lift a wet finger to your mouth, popping it in to clean it off. “Who knew you were so fucking kinky?” 

His confidence grows as he catches his breath. He can’t believe he’s sitting on his bed with you on your knees, breasts covered in his load. You’re suckling the cum off your finger like it’s his cock, and he’s desperate for more.

“There are lots of things you don’t know about me,” you shrug. 

Swiftly, he grabs you gently by your bicep and pulls you close, sucking at your lips until you’re both standing. 

“I plan to find out everything.” 

Suddenly, you’re switching positions and Jungkook is pushing you down into the bed. You lay flat in the center, body relaxed and eager for your best friend.

“What are you doing?” You ask. He’s still standing at the end of the bed, watching you get comfortable. Once he’s satisfied that you’re lying exactly how you want, he settles himself by your feet.

“Worshipping you,” he says as he lifts an ankle and presses gentle kisses to your calf. “Showing you how much I adore you.” More kisses, soft and sweet. “Showing you how I plan on treating you for the rest of your life.” 

He takes his time, lavishing your legs with his mouth. He kisses and sucks at any spot, sexual or not. He mouths at the roundness of your knees, your firm hamstrings. He presses his love into the skin of your thighs, mouthing his praises with each kiss. 

He reaches the dip of your hips and he gently kisses your exposed skin as he tugs your cotton panties off you. 

“I have loved every inch of you since before I can remember,” he praises as his lips skim over the mound of your cunt. “And I don’t plan on stopping soon.” 

Your body feels like it’s on fire, as if Jungkook lights a match at every spot his lips press against. Your eyes close, and you allow Jungkook to continue his pious worship of your body. 

He teases around your folds, kissing your labia ever so gently—making you gasp. He doesn’t linger long, only kisses you enough to stir the licking flames of heat in your belly.  

He kisses at your stomach, gently nibbling and laving at the softness there. You try to hide from him, try to hide your insecurities of your body in his thorough exploration, but he moves your hands. 

“I know you don’t like this part of your body,” he murmurs. His voice is so soft, so pure and sincere. “But I do. I love everything about you.” 

His tongue swirls around your belly button, making you gasp at the ticklish sensation. 

“You’re so pretty. So perfect.” 

He continues upwards, lips now trailing to your full breasts. He takes his time there, licking and kissing and flicking at your nipples with his tongue. It feels exhilarating—Jungkook’s mouth feels like everything you want it to feel like. His tongue is warm, and he bites with just enough pressure to make your back arch off the bed into his embrace.

His hands explore, taking stock of every millimeter of skin he can find. He wants to memorize every freckle, every bump, every scar and line. Your body is his paradise, and all he can think of is you, you, you.

One hand travels down your body as he moves his lips up your neck. It snakes down your stomach and deftly slides over your soaked core. You whine as you feel his fingers part your folds and dip into the wetness.

“So wet,” he says out loud, verbalizing every tantalizing detail of your body. “So perfect.”

His lips are finally at your own and you kiss him passionately, tongue swirling around his as he slides his two fingers past your clit and into your drenched hole. You gasp against his mouth, eyes widening as he slowly scissors his fingers into you and pumps slowly. It’s almost teasing, the way he fucks his fingers in you. Slow, firm movements with his powerful hands.

“Jungkook!” You gasp. He doesn’t reply, instead he bites at your lip and tugs, then trails his hot mouth back down to your nipples. He can’t get enough of your breasts and the slightly salty taste of him still lingering.

“You feel so good,” he says as he speeds his fingers up minutely. “So tight and wet for me.”

Your hips writhe in need. He’s giving you what you need, but not enough. You need more, more. You want to feel him, all of him, spearing you open.

“Please, Kook,” you groan. “I need you.”

He laughs softly against your nipple and sucks extra hard, letting it pop out of his mouth audibly.

“And I need you, my love.”

“Fuck me, please.” You’re desperate, thighs quaking from the slow teasing. “I want you to fuck me, Jungkook.”

Chills shudder down Jungkook’s spine and he’s powerless to say no, not when you demand it so well.

“With pleasure,” he agrees. He pulls his fingers from within you and copies your move, sliding them into his mouth to suck your essence off. 

He’s never looked sexier. His eyes are dark chocolate pools of burning intensity, and you feel your breath become shaky as you watch him clean his fingers with precision.

After he’s deemed his fingers sufficiently clean, he settles himself between your legs. Easily, he lifts your hips and shoves a pillow underneath, elevating you to a more comfortable position. He grabs your legs and tosses each over his shoulders so they’re higher in the air. 

“I’m going to fuck you so good, baby,” he promises as he rubs the tip of his cock on your soppy slit. “Condom?”

You shake your head, appreciative of his question but desperate to feel him completely.

“Birth control. Regularly tested. Haven’t had sex in a while,” you blurt out. “You good?”

He nods in agreement. “Same. Well, except the birth control. But, I’d take it if they made it for men.”

“Jungkook!” You whine. Your best friend is so easily sidetracked. “Please, can you fuck me?”

He grins. “Tsk, someone is impatient.”

A low moan is rumbling in your chest as he continues to rub his thick cock at your entrance.

“I swear to god, you’re the biggest tease.”

“Oh, I’m definitely the biggest.”

Before you can react, he’s pushing past your entrance and sliding deep in your walls. Your position makes his cock feel deep, and he bottoms out and stills there, eyes closed in bliss.

“Holy shit,” he gasps. “This is absolutely the best pussy I’ve ever felt.”

You wiggle your hips as you get used to the sensation of the delicious stretch.

“Please don’t tell me how many pussies you’ve felt when you’re balls deep inside of me.”

Jungkook turns his head and kisses at your legs resting on his shoulders, lavishing them with his praise once more as he keeps his cock buried inside your tight heat.

“Yours is the only one that matters. The only pussy I’ll ever be in for the rest of my life.”

“That’s a good answer,” you smile. “Now, fuck me, lover boy.”

Jungkook winks and grips your hips with his hands. He swiftly pulls out, enamored with the way his cock is already covered in your creamy essence, then eagerly pushes back in. He sets a pace and soon the sound of skin clapping on skin echoes around the room.

“Oh god!” You’re moaning loudly, unabashedly. You’re thankful that Jungkook’s old roommate, Yoongi, moved out to live with his boyfriend Hoseok months ago. He’d definitely complain about the noise for months. “Fuck, Jungkook, you feel so good.”

Jungkook fucks into you with ferocity, speed and power gradually rising as he feels his core tighten with the coming anticipation of release.

“Mmm, you look so fucking sexy like this,” he murmurs. “Getting fucked by your best friend’s fat cock.”

He moves a hand from your hip, trails it up your body to squeeze at your breast, before he’s cupping your face once again. His hips snap against yours and he loves the way your mouth utters little squeaks and gasps with each deep thrust into you.

“God, my beautiful girl,” he groans. “Can’t wait to cum in this pussy, shit, you got me so fucking close.”

You open your mouth desperately and Jungkook easily slips his thumb in. You latch on quickly and suck, tongue swirling around the tip like you’re sucking another cock. It nearly sends him over the edge and the speed of his hips matches his desperate need for more.

“Fucking hell,” he bites back. He can feel his belly tighten, driven further and further to the edge by the constricting wetness of your cunt. 

He pulls his thumb out and moves it down to where his cock spears into you, allowing your spit to swirl with his thumb around your clit. Your core tightens around him at the added stimulation and your back arches up in ecstasy.

“I’m so c-close, Kook,” you plead, as if begging for mercy. “Please, I want to cum so bad.”

The speed of his thumb increases, and he watches as your face twists in pleasure and desperation. 

“Cum on my cock, baby, let me see you fall apart. Show me what I’ve dreamt of for so long.”

A high and wanton cry ripples out of your body as he savagely increases his speed, both his cock and thumb working overtime to drive you towards your end. The butterflies that erupt in your lower stomach make your moans louder, higher. You’re so close, closer than ever. It’s building to an incredible crescendo.

He can tell you’re close—he sees it on your face as your back arches and your fists grip his sheets.

“You look like a fucking angel, baby,” he whines as he soaks in the vision of you writhing underneath him. “I bet you cum like an angel, too. Let me see it, let me see.”

With just a few more swirls of his thumb and his deep, hard strokes, you’re soaring over the edge into a pool of nothingness. Your cunt pulsates wildly around his length, milking and stroking it with your tight walls. You throw your head back, moaning out his name at the top of his lungs, letting his neighbors know just who fucks you so well.

“Holy shit,” he gasps, hips stuttering as he fucks into your juicy hole. “That was so fucking sexy.”

You grip his forearms, holding onto him tight and encourage him to go harder. “Cum inside me, Kookie, please. I’m all yours, make me yours.”

His heart feels like it might burst in his chest. He’s always wanted you to say it to him, to hand over your love to him like he does so easily to you. It’s all so much, so overwhelming, and the feeling of your hot cunt still fluttering around him sends him reeling into his own completion. 

He spills into you, warm seed coating your walls and pooling inside your womb. He fucks himself through each throb of his cock until he’s sure he’s drained every ounce of himself into you.

Your legs slip off his shoulders easily, and he gently pulls himself out of you. He falls beside you, panting with exertion, and wraps an arm around you.

After a few silent moments of catching your breath, Jungkook pulls you in close to him until he can koala-cling to you, arms and legs both wrapped around your body.

“Mine,” he whispers as he kisses your head. “All mine.”

You return the favor, clinging to your best friend—boyfriend—like he’s your only lifeline.

“All yours.”

“So, you’re telling me, you got together because of Minecraft?” Jimin asks, pointing a fork in your direction. It’s been months now since your grand virtual declaration of love for Jungkook. Months of bliss and romance, laughter and companionship. 

You were right all along. Jungkook is everything you’ve wanted in a man and more.

You’re sitting at your brother’s expensive dinner table, enjoying a meal with his family with your boyfriend at your side.

“Yeah, Jimin, I guess that’s what I’m saying,” you retort as you roll your eyes. “Minecraft and Tinder.”

Baby Jisoo is awake and in your brother’s arms, but she’s whining and wiggling to leave him.

“What’s wrong, Soo?” Namjoon asks with a pout on his lips. “Why don’t you want daddy anymore?”

Jimin snorts at his husband and you hold out your arms for your baby niece. “Come here, baby, I know you want auntie.”

Namjoon dutifully hands over his daughter, sulking that he’s been picked over for his sister. 

You cradle the baby in your arms, expecting her to calm once she’s there, but she continues to fuss. She’s thrusting her arms out and nearly crying, reaching towards Jungkook who’s busy chowing down on Jimin’s homemade ramen.

“I think she wants you, Kook,” you murmur. He looks at you, then to the baby, then back to you, before he wipes his hands and face clean with a napkin.

“Oh, okay,” he whispers, slowly taking the baby from your arms with your help. “Hello, ma’am.”

Namjoon and Jimin laugh. “She’s a baby, Jungkook, not an elderly woman,” your brother teases.

Jungkook doesn’t listen. He’s too busy cooing at the baby in his arms and playing with her tiny hands. Namjoon turns his attention away and looks at you.

“Guess I won’t be the only provider of grandchildren for much longer.”

You playfully glare at him and turn away to watch your boyfriend. Watching Jungkook interact with your niece makes your heart swell, your soul sing. He’d be a perfect father.

“I swear, if he teaches her how to play Minecraft, he’s banned from the household,” Jimin grumbles. “This is a No-Nerd-Zone.”

Jungkook cradles the child and rocks back and forth, singing her a soft, made-up song, before he looks over at you.

“Hey, I want one of these,” he smiles. “Can we have one?”

You lay a hand on your stomach, a soft bump not quite visible yet. It’s only been one test, the lines faintly indicating ‘positive’ on the stick. You wanted to make sure, get confirmation before you spill the beans.

“Sure, Kookie.”

He grins and leans over to kiss you, before turning his attention back to the baby. “Okay, Jisoo, now let me tell you all about the Endermen.”

Jimin groans. “Oh my god, do not give Minecraft facts to my infant!”

tag list - @giadalin @nohayarcoirissintormenta @pjmislovely @xhazmania @marcoazam2 @eggbutnotyolk @feel-the-sunset @unicornbabylover @aretha170 @jeonmisha @hordanhearsawhooo 

© ppersonna - 2021 - do not repost on any site, or translate without express permission from author.

[ecto-american]

People are posting their 2021 fics, so I’ll join the trend.

Alexa, Summon Danny Phantom on FFN and AO3

Phic Phight Oneshot for Greyheartwriter: Danny's been summoned. But not by who you'd expect. In fact, not by an actual person.

Million Dollar Ghost on FFN and AO3

Phic Phight Oneshot for GrimGrinningGhoul: Danny gets captured by the GiW. It doesn't go how he expected it to go.

Humanity on FFN and AO3

Upon their arrest by the GIW together, Valerie learns something interesting about Phantom and herself that make her question just how human both herself and Phantom are.

The Other Side on FFN and AO3

Phic Phight Oneshot for Kiinotasha and KC: (AU) Born a halfa and raised in the Ghost Zone by his mother, Danny struggles with his human identity when a permanent man made portal appears in the Ghost Zone.

The Half-Dead Kids Club on FFN and AO3

Phic Phight Oneshot for bibliophilea: (AU) Tucker Ghouly was looking for a relaxing weekend with his boyfriend. Too bad the halfa versions of his boyfriend, his boyfriend's sister, and their other best friend crashed the party. [Danny/Tucker]

Liar Liar on FFN and AO3

Phic Phight Oneshot for Ectopal: After an argument with her now grounded son, Maddie wishes that Danny wouldn't lie to her-and Desiree overhears. [TransDanny]

The Bachelor on FFN and AO3

Phic Phight oneshot for skellagirl: To help raise money for education, Vlad lets a date with himself be auctioned off. To his surprise, Harriet was quite a persistent bidder, and to his bigger surprise...he actually had a good time. Vlad/Harriet

Prom Season on FFN and AO3

Phic Phight Oneshot for Rikaleeta and ghostgothgeek: As Prom draws nearer, Danny finds that he has competition in asking Sam to prom. Danny/Sam

Stuck (Stubbornly) on FFN and AO3

Phic Phight Oneshot for Dey: Jack and Maddie are stuck in the Ghost Zone. Fortunately for them, Phantom's around and willing to help out. They'd rather be arrested by a ghost warden and put in ghost jail before they'd allow some teenage menace and his girlfriend help them. Oh wait...

Baby Babble on FFN and AO3

Shiptember onshot: While babysitting Vlad and Harriet's baby, Sam finds out a secret that Danny's been keeping.

And while that’s all I published in 2022, I wanna still highlight three other fics, that while not published in 2021, were completed or had an update in 2021, and that I hope will have either a sequel or another update this year. I’m also particularly proud/happy with the first as well, it was my favorite fanfic to write.

Broken Ectoplasm on FFN and AO3

[Warning for Graphic Description of Injury] Jack came to a disturbing conclusion about the ghostly teen laying in his son’s bed. Somebody had tried to skin Phantom. But who? And why? Dannymay 2019 themed story

Tucker Ghouly on FFN and AO3

AU in which Tucker is the half-ghost, Danny is the goth and Sam is the nerd. Eventual Danny/Tucker

School Troubles on FFN and AO3

Twoshot: Jack and Maddie take Vlad's "generous" offer of putting a troubled, failing and sleeping in class Danny into a snobby rich kid academy. Written as a follower count winner prize for the-screaming-hunter on tumblr. / As the school year starts to come to a close, it's time to elect next year's student council president, and Danny finds himself running against Kennedy.

[bisexual-horror-fan]

I only come off lurk mode for serious business. The queen ask-eth and she shall receive...eth.

Not on anon, BUT the obvious answer is clearly anything and everything you write because being able to take part and read the way your passion for writing increases, your skill expands with every fic, and the love, effort, and care you put into every series/fics is frankly astounding. You're an automatic weapon with the sheer amount of content you provide and so deadly accurate with the quality too. I think my favorite thing about your work is honestly being able to see the joy it brings to you. Plus you're always so available to requests and open for discussion, it's just such a lovely thing to see when someone as skilled as you is still so willing to interact and create with your readers!

But gushing about you personally aside, you asked for fav fics!

So OBVS choice is TBABTO bc uhhh I'm contractually obligated as the president of ghost face fan club, but also I just LOVE the series and it being the first fic that brought us together has a real special place in my heart!

Then there's your magnum opus tmomd, like the filth, the skill, and the eloquently plotted descent into Freddy is grotesque in ALLLLL the right ways. You're converting people left and right with this baby.

And of course I love anything house of wax. You know my preferences. Your Vinny and Bo hit so well, no surprise there.

But I think, you might be surprised that my fav fic of yours is actually a Buddy Swanson one. "Dear jealousy" in particular. Partially, bc it's the first fic of him I read, so it being my catalyst of hungry eyes 👀. And here's the thing, I've still to this day never even seen his movies. I plan to at some point, and eventually will, but you know me, epitome of distraction. But does that stop me from read everything you put out about him? Nope. I feel like I have such a clear picture of his character just from your fics alone that I'm not missing out by not seeing the films. Would they add more context? Sure. Would they increase my love for the character and make me start another WIP. Probably. But understand his character? Nah, you covered that inside and out. You have such a way of capturing a character and their essence that it's an art form. Which makes your fics so genuinely within the universe of possibility. Overwhelming talent.

TLDR; Bexxx is the best at writing and everyone else concedes. Love you, xoxo 💋😘💅🏼

HARLEY!

I AM CRYING, SCREAMING, THROWING UP-

This is amazing, TBABTO is so important to me for a million reasons I have talked about before but for how it brought us together is a MASSIVE ONE!

Also hearing how much you love my Bo and Vin stuff when you write like the best of the best is like whaaaaaaaaaaat-

Also NO SHIT!

THAT IS YOUR FAVE?! I love that fic! I love Buddy too and you love him just from my writing?! Fuck me uppp Harley! If you ever wanna watch Stage Fright with Tina and I, since she introduced me to that movie and thus Buddy, please lemme know! We are overdue for another movie night!

[hammeredalcoholic]

my only friend

kira yoshikage / reader ;

rating: mature, no 18+ content yet ; kira & reader are portrayed as 18 years old ; tension at the end of chapter

here is chapter 2! link to chapter 1. hope you guys enjoy this, i am falling back in love with writing this thing. cross posted to ao3.

here is a spotify playlist to go with this fic.

“you've been riding two wheelers all your life it's not like i'm asking to be your wife i wanna make you mine, but that's hard to say is this coming off in a cheesy way?”

The skies were covered in clouds, smoldering and dark, threatening to spill rain at any time. The air was chilly, causing goosebumps to line your arms and make the hairs on your neck stand up. Fall was just upon you, the summer months had passed within seconds it seemed. Not that you really cared-- autumn was beautiful, bringing colored trees and pretty sunsets. 

Your shoes scuffed against the concrete you sat upon, your fingers barely holding onto a lit cigarette. You really ought to quit-- but the high of nicotine was just too much to give up. The taste of tobacco on your tongue was all you tried to focus on, but it was hard. 

Hard when you sat outside of a dingy apartment, of a person you didn’t know, waiting for your companion to take their miserable life. 

This was normal. You’d go a few days on the road, staying at whichever place you could, before Yoshikage started to feel the urges, as he called them. He had said it once before to you, and it was something that you hadn’t been able to quite let go. 

“I just-- can’t help it,” His words were soft, and small. His hands were fidgeting in his lap, ghosting over the frayed edges of his baby blue sweater. “I can’t control myself when I get this way. It’s just that it’s in my nature to kill.” 

Kira’s eyes were hidden behind his blond bangs, deep and dark and full of sorrow. He couldn’t help that he was this way, despite the fact that he wanted to live a quiet life. He didn’t want to be a bother on others, but it seemed like he had just dug himself in a hole. 

Your mind jumped from that memory to another. The phone call. The one that changed your life drastically. 

3:31 AM flashed on your alarm clock. The landline was ringing, practically jumping off your bedside table. Who the hell would need to call you right now? All of Morioh should be asleep-- your hand reached for it, gently picking it up off the receiver and holding it to your ear. 

“Hello?” 

A shaky voice was on the other end. Distant and gravely-- barely speaking above a whisper. 

“D-Did I wake you up? I-I’m so sorry,” He sounded awful. Hiccups between every word, and you were positive he had been crying. “Yoshikage-- What happened? What’s going on?” 

Yoshikage Kira had never sounded like this. He sounded so broken-- like a glass vase shattered across a concrete floor. There was a small hiccup, and a breathy sigh on the other end. “I made-- I made a big mistake. I need your help.” 

A big mistake? What the hell did that mean? 

“Can you please meet me at Reimi Sugimoto’s house? You know where that is right?” He sounded even more desperate with each passing second. Yes, you did know where she lived-- it was on your walking path to and from school everyday. It should only take you about 5 minutes to get there, if you booked it. 

“Yes, yes, okay. I’ll be there soon. Whatever you do, don’t run away.” With those words being said, the line was cut off. Quickly, and being as quiet as possible, you got some pants and a sweatshirt on, stuffing a pillow under your blankets to make it seem like you were still sleeping. Thinking semi-clearly, you grabbed a backpack and put some extra clothes and your trusted pocket knife inside. 

Slinging the bag over your shoulders, you grabbed your keys from your desk and slipped out of your room. This wasn’t the first time you had snuck out, so you knew each creak and cranny in the wooden stairs leading to the main entrance of your house. As quickly as you could, you slipped out of the house without a sound. 

You quickly bolted to your car that was slightly down the street, thanking your past self for the distance. Your parents wouldn’t hear the car start, or you driving off to save your friend. Hopping in and starting the engine up, you quickly left in the direction of the Sugimoto residence.

Screams were faint in your ears. 

Deciding that another cigarette was inevitable, you quickly pulled it out of the pack and lit it. You could have waited in the car, but-- you didn’t want Yoshikage to get hurt. You wanted to be there for him until the very end, so there you sat, against the grimy brick wall, feeling all sorts of out of place. 

You let your mind drift again. 

Driving well over the speed limit, you made it there in less than 3 minutes. From the outside of the house, it didn’t look like much had happened. The lawn was normal, the house the same as when you had driven past yesterday. That was until you noticed him-- a figure, clad in a pale blue sweater, sitting on the front steps of the building. 

His hands, covered in his sleeves, were pressed firmly against his face. If it hadn’t been in the middle of the night, you would have been able to make out the bright red stains that coated his clothes. Quickly pulling the car to the side of the road, you got out without a second guess. 

Quickly rushing up to the boy, you stopped only feet away from him. 

“Yoshi… What-- What happened?” Blood. Blood on his sleeves-- his pants-- his hair. Fuck, his face was even coated in it. His hands dropped from his face, and he looked up at you with wide, cold-dead eyes. They were bright red and puffy, telling that he was sobbing his eyes out only moments previously. 

“I-- I made a mistake.” Kira’s voice was only a whisper. If you hadn’t been listening, you would have thought it to be the midnight wind. “What mistake?” You pressed, stepping closer to the seated boy. 

“I-- I,” Yoshikage stuttered, before tears lined his eyes. “I killed them.” He spoke so softly, before looking at his blood stained hands. “I killed them.” He stated, louder, looking up at you again. “I killed her parents. Her dog. And then-- her.” His voice was shaking, tears now freely flowing down his cheeks. “I don’t-- I don’t know what to do.” 

You stared at him in disbelief. He-- Yoshikage Kira, the boy that grew up with you, silent but friendly, playing with only you throughout elementary, hanging out with you during middle school and high school-- your best friend. He had killed someone. Not someone, multiple people. 

Fist shaking at your sides, chills running up your spine, sweat practically dripping from your temple. 

You had a choice to make. 

Leave him, let him get caught-- probably executed. Or--

“I’ll help you. Let’s go.” 

You’ve never seen Kira’s eyes light up like that before. Bright blue, even in the pale moonlight. They were so blue, you swore you could have gotten lost in them. That’s your favorite part of the memory, thinking back on the relief he must have felt. It sent warmth through your body, butterflies floating in your stomach. 

You knew, despite how much you question your own motives now and again, you wouldn’t be able to leave Kira. He’s been a staple in your life, much like you must have been to him. Why would he ask you for help if that wasn’t the case? 

The skies had grown dark as you were reminiscent, and your stomach growling had alerted you that it might not be a bad idea to get some food. Glancing at the door to the apartment, you briefly wondered if Yoshikage would even notice if you left. But, then again, he might be hungry too. You weighed your options, and decided it would be best to just ask him. 

Getting up to your feet, you flicked the butt of your cigarette over the railing of the complex. Your feet tingled with sleep, and your fists clenched as you stared at the awful wooden door. Your mind ran a million miles an hour, going through several thoughts about what he could possibly be doing behind that wretched piece of wood. 

Just as you were about to knock on the door, it opened. 

Kira stood there, eyes wide when he noticed you standing in front of him. He was absolutely drenched in blood-- his sweater was stained, khakis barely recognizable. His face and hair were also decently covered. His eyes quickly darted to his ruined chucks, and he spoke very softly. 

“I-- I’m done.” 

You let out a quick sigh of relief, and decided not to question him. “Well if that’s the case, how about we go get some food and find a place to clean you up?” Kira didn’t say anything, just nodded. With that, you both left the apartment complex. 

As the night went on, you both decided that getting some fast food and trying to find a laundromat was in order. You were rather thankful for the dark, as the person who took your measly ones at the burger joint didn’t even bat an eye at your companion’s appearance. 

Luckily, there was a laundromat just down the street. Pulling up and parking in the vacant lot, you both got out your burgers and ate in relative silence.

After downing your food in what felt like 3 bites, you looked over at your friend. He didn’t look like he was thinking about much-- his hands were steady, eyes somewhat glossed over from the food, and completely ignoring the fact that he was still very much covered in blood. 

“Do you feel better?” The words felt almost foreign on your tongue, despite feeling like you asked him this every single time. Kira looked over at you, swallowing the bite he was chewing before responding. “Yeah. I do,” He rolled up the remaining half of his sandwich in the wrapper, putting it back in the bag. “But I would like to clean up my clothes.” 

You snorted, grabbing your drink from the console and taking a few gulps. “I’m sure you would. It looks like it’s fairly empty in there, so I’m sure we’ll be fine.” You glanced at the clock in your car, and the bright red numbers informed you that it was well past midnight at this point. Kira must have noticed it too, and he began to get out of the vehicle. 

Doing the same, you pulled the bag of quarters you keep in the console out and stuffed them in your pocket. You followed Yoshikage inside, quickly turning and locking your car before entering the building. 

The place was very much run down-- old washing machines lined the dirty walls. Neon lights glimmered from outside, casting weird shadows across the floor. Kira kept walking to the back of the building, deciding to use the machines that were farthest from the windows. You followed him absentmindedly, hoping up on one of the machines and pulling out your little sack of change. 

Yoshikage’s eyes glanced at your before they went down to his feet, and he quickly shrugged off his baby blue sweater. You swore that thing had been through its life cycle already-- ever since he got it at the beginning of high school, it seemed to be the only article of clothing he wore. He threw it into the washing machine next to you, his hands going back up to unbutton his undershirt. 

At that point, you found it hard not to stare. 

Yoshikage Kira may have been your best friend from preschool to now, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t attractive. Bright blonde curls and icy blue eyes-- along with a jawline that could surely cut glass. 

The coins in your hand quickly became your second priority, as your eyes lingered on each inch of skin he revealed. This wasn’t even your first time seeing him semi-nude-- he sleeps in the same bed as you most nights. But this-- this was different. 

Soon enough his button up was shrugged off and tossed in the washer, and you quickly averted your eyes to the coins you held in your palm. You were playing a very dangerous game, and you weren’t sure what Kira would do if he caught you looking at him like a piece of meat. 

As you tried to count the quarters that were needed for the machine to run, you heard your companion’s shoes be kicked off. Then, the sound of a button and fly being undone made your cheeks heat up within seconds. Your mind was doing mental backflips, going back and forth between looking, and keeping your eyes down. 

From the corner of your eyes, you saw his soiled khakis drop around his ankles, and he carefully stepped out of them, throwing them in the machine. 

“Hey. I need a dollar and twenty-five cents to start it.” His words practically made you jump, and you held out your palm with the money he needed. Kira easily noticed how flustered you were, and let his fingers linger in yours while he took the coins. Soon enough, the machine roared to life, and you heard Kira take a seat next to you. 

Swallowing your pride, you decided it wasn’t worth avoiding his gaze, so you looked over at him. 

His skin was almost glowing in the awful lighting of the building, collar bones prominent and his muscles were exceptionally toned. You felt your eyes linger on his hips, almost tracing the V shape that dipped into his boxer briefs. As soon as you realized what you were doing, your eyes immediately went up to meet his own. 

They had grown dark, silver pools watching your every move. A small smirk had formed on his lips, and you almost had to bite your lip from making any sort of noise. 

Your mind screamed at you to look away. Stop staring at him and just look at literally anything else. 

But then, something else happened that made your world turn upside down. 

Did he fucking wink?

[yelenasdog]

the pillowtalk of a pessimist (spencer reid x fem reader)

genre: fluff with a millisecond of angst

summary: pillowtalk takes an interesting turn for spencer at the mention of the harsh realities of his work.

words: 1.3k, she’s a shorty.

warnings: nsfw themes (nothing smutty, it’s just implied and also directly stated that they slept together), typical criminal minds violence + death, and maybe cursing? idk. 

a/n: btw this isn’t the fic i was ranting on about that i’m writing, she’s still in the works. also! this could be an x oc or anybody bc i didn’t use y/n if you would prefer to read it as such.

🂦∙🂦∙🂦

A pale stream of moonlight shone through the open window of apartment 23, the home of Doctor Spencer Reid. It illuminated a small section of his bedroom, specifically on one of his many floor to ceiling bookshelves, a beacon of knowledge that was there 24/7 for the taking.

The gold engravings on the spines of his many reads shimmered, a beautiful contrast to the dark mahogany the shelf was made out of.

The room smelled like a mixture of his cologne, her perfume (Chanel no. 5, specifically), and the results of their previous affairs that lingered in the crisp air of the night.

She took a deep breath, settling down further into the white duvet, pulling it over her bosom in response to the chilly temperature. The dark green walls of the room welcomed and calmed her, overwhelming the girl with a wave of serenity that could only be brought to her by him.

He quickly took note of her unsteady breathing and shift in position, immediately jumping to action. He pulled her closer by her shoulders with his strong arms, eliciting a squeal from her and a chuckle from him, more so at her reaction than the move itself.

Her head laid on his bare chest, her hair splayed out with half of it residing on his pillow, the other half on his bicep. She could have appeared to be an angel, although in his eyes, she truly was.

She rested her hand on the left side of his chest over his heart, her fingernail ghosting shapes on his tanned skin. Circles, squiggly lines, even abstract faces.

“How do you do it?”

Her voice was quiet, barely above a whisper. If his hearing wasn’t so acute, he was sure he would have missed it. This would have saddened the genius greatly, as he valued everything she had to say with a burning ferocity, and even one word lost would be a shame.

“What?”

He was confused by the nature of the question, attempting to search every corner of his brilliant brain for what she might have been referencing. Was it an equation? No, she hated math. Perhaps the way he so effortlessly could play any instrument because yet again, math. He decided that couldn’t be the subject at question either, she played better than he did, glorious melodies flowed from her fingertips. So the doctor was truly stumped.

The answer was simpler than he had imagined.

“Your job.”

With those doe eyes he was so fond of, she looked up, meeting his own glance.

If the term “heart eyes” was able to be personified, Spencer would be the guy to personify it whenever his eyes landed on the one in front of him.

“What do you mean? I get up in the morning, drink some coffee, and get to it.”

She giggled, but the sound he loved so much ceased with her pout.

“That’s not what I mean, Spence. How do you go on everyday, seeing body after body,” she trailed off, obviously distraught. Spencer wrapped his large hand tighter around her, placing his chin on her hairline.

“How do you consistently manage to look at these victims, these people, with lives that they never got to finish living-“ A tear slipped down her cheek, she bit her bottom lip, tasting her own salty droplets on her tongue. She sniffled, burying her head further in his neck with what he presumed was shame.

“And not break down when you do.” Her voice was muffled, but the emotions she felt were evident nonetheless.

He took a moment to carefully articulate an appropriate response. The gears in his mind turned ever so diligently, finding a solution to dry her tears.

“It’s not much different than what I initially said. I get up in the morning, drink some coffee.”

He pushed a hair away from her face, admiring her distinct features as he often did. She looked up, moving her left hand to trace his sharp jaw as he sat in thought.

“And I realize that these people that are now dead, are a part of the hundreds, of throusands, of millions of people that die every year. It’s a part of life, what gives it meaning.”

She gave a dry, humourless laugh.

“What, you don’t have a specific statistic for that?”

“Oh, I do, but I don’t think you want to hear it.” He tilted his head, weighing the option of disclosing the information but deciding against it.

“But the bottom line is, they have families. Families that are grieving, and hurting, and needing answers and justice. I cannot do my job and give them the closure they deserve if I’m staying focused on my own emotions and delving deep into who the victims were, rather than how to catch those responsible for hurting them.”

She moved on to her back, stilling managing to keep her eye contact with Spencer.

“But you’re a profiler! That’s what you do! You’re supposed to, what did you call it, ‘delve deep’ into who they are.”

“Pretty girl, are you trying to tell the one with 3 doctorates how to do his job?”

She rolled her eyes, lazily throwing a hand on his neck, right behind his ear. She ran it back and forth, savoring the intimate moment.

“Yeah, yeah. Shut up, Agent.” She taunted, poorly trying (and failing) to agitate Spencer. She had a hunch (that was more true than either of them would let on) that it wasn’t possible for her to do so, and he found himself proving it to be correct.

“I just had to learn to let the family do what they had to do so that I could do the same.”

The girl’s tone softened as she spoke, staring at the popcorn ceiling.

“I guess so. I’m just too empathetic, my heart is too pure.” She joked, a feathery laugh falling past both of their lips.

“Of course. I would expect nothing less.” He teased back, enjoying the dynamic they both held in the tender moment.

“You amaze me.” She muttered, leaning in, analyzing him and his ruffled post-sex hair, his gorgeously long lashes, and his light 5 o’clock shadow that donned his chin.

He huffed quietly, doing the exact same thing, minus the scruff of course.

“I could say the same to you, pretty girl.”

Their lips connected once again, in a different manner than the feverish and needy kiss from before.

This time, it was a union of two individuals, allowing themselves to mould together in a way only the two of them could. It was slower and sweeter, with more feeling poured into their lips while they moved in sync.

“M’ tired.”

“Yeah? You wanna go to sleep, bubs?”

She grinned as she snuggled into his arms, her exhausted eyes fluttering to a close.

“Bubs, huh? That’s new.”

A worried frown made its way onto his face as he rushed to cover up his previous words.

“D-do you not like it? I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable-“

“Spence.”

He stopped, looking over her for any microexpressions, only seeing positive signs. That wasn’t technically profiling, right? He hoped he would be in the clear if she ever was to find out.

“I love it, baby. Say it again.”

“Bubs?”

“Mhm. Say it again.” She sounded with content. He smirked, a proud feeling infiltrating his body, causing him to puff up his chest in the slightest way.

“Goodnight, bubs.”

He reached up, his paranoia forcing him to close the window above him, despite being a more than qualified FBI agent with a revolver safely tucked away in the top drawer of his night stand that never quite was shut all the way.

It was just the pessimist in him.

She wrapped around his figure, intertwining his form with her own.

“Sleep well, Spence.”

He felt happy with her, happier than he had been in a long time. He relished in that, allowing it to lull him to a well needed rest.

But what could he say, she just brought out the optimist in him.

🂦∙🂦∙🂦

hj posting at a time that isn’t 3 am?????? unheard of. also i may or may not have pulled an all nighter to write whatever tf this is bc my ex posted something with his new gf and i felt pathetic LMAO. anyway, i hope your day is fabulous, go drink some water and remember things are what you make of them and it’s all about intent! love you, xx hj.

[bloodiedpixie]

Fic Writer Interview!!

There are some small awtwb spoilers below the cut so beware of them

tagged by: @mostlymaudlin

name: Remi

fandoms: Simon Snow, Gentleman’s Guide to Vice and Virtue and Shameless

most popular multi-chapter fic: The 5 Reasons for tggtvav! It’s a modern punk au with a trans Percy and androgynous Monty, Percy is a guitarist for a punk band called the 5 reasons that plays at the Eleftheria bar most nights.

I have other chapter fics that I’m trying to get through and I hope become my most popular *cough* 70s Simon Snow fic *cough* but I have no idea what the future holds and 5 reasons will always be my baby ☺

how do you do titles: I flounder for a while until it hits me, usually they just appear two hours before i'm ready to post it and then i pretend to my beta i know what the hell i'm doing.

Jk, here’s an answer, sometimes it’s a line or a song or something, or maybe it’s something from the fic, like “The 5 Reasons, The Watford Mages, The Crew of The Magia mollique fluentem, SPF 100” are all groups/things within the fic, “This is what it’s like to be lovers, Please don’t take my sunshine away” are song lyrics, “Rose Snow-Pitch vs. Anxiety, Of All The Wildflowers, GIVE ME THE DAMN SHIRT!!, This will end in flames, One bullet too far, Best Stanley Cup Ever” are lines from the fic itself, and the rest, “The Angle On The Top of The Tree, My Dear Nightmare, Cars and Curry, Domesticity, How To Simon Proof a Flat, Begin Your Twenties With a…Never mind, A different kind of note” are either plays on lines said in the book or just random things that have to do with the fic itself

That’s probably not the most efficient way to do titles but here we are

do you outline: Yes but they are a lot of swears, memes and emojis because I can’t take myself seriously

fic ideas you probably won't get to but wouldn't it be nice: all of them, my entire wip list are things I’m probably never going to get to but damn it I wanna!!! But I do have a few specifically, one is “The Watford Baby Chronicles” which is specifically because I wanna write Baz being a prissy little toddler music conductor and Simon being a little train conductor, Penny being obessed with learning, Shep seeing ghosts, Agatha being a rebel in a tutu, I need to have it happen and also this

Baby Baz: *in front of baby Simon minding his own business*

Baby Simon: *puts both hands on Baby Baz's face and squishes*

Baby Baz: *conflicted crying*

Another idea is “Shoulder Angle, Shoulder Demon” au here’s the description, I really wanna do it I just don’t think I have time 😭

Simon and Baz are dilemma deciders, mythical and magical beings that are assigned to different humans everyday. Each dilemma decider is paired with another for all eternity once they grow past 10. Whether the deciders like each other or not is not relevant, a decision cannot change their partner.

The stance on Demon and Angel changes per person. Typically Simon Snow is an angel and Basilton Grimm-Pitch is a Demon. Though Baz would tend to say Simon is the Demon and Baz is the angel.

They eventually reach an understanding when a once in a million people chance, they agree on something. Secrets start building and revealing themselves and the deciders have to decide on the answer to the one big question on their tongues.

“Do I love him?”

callouts @ me: O H! OH BUDDY!! So many things. But I guess the main one is, I really gotta work on describing things, I have very specific things in my brain for how their movements work and how they move but I can barely describe it, need to work on that. “They moved there and then there” is not how I should write those movements, GET IT TOGETHER ME!! 😂

best writing traits: H a h a….um…..shit idk. Adjectives? I guess, people have told me I’m good at being poetic and describing little things well, and I use a lot of adjectives to do that so…Adjectives.

spicy opinions: uhhhhhhh, hm…..ok don’t kill me, I think that maaaaaaaaybe people are a bit mean to Simon for how he treated Baz in ws. NOW BEFORE YOU COME FOR ME, I AM WELL AWARE HOW HE TREATED HIM WAS NOT OKAY!! I’m aware okay, but it’s just, I’ve been in that position before like I know “I ignored you for months, that was completely my fault” but like so many people are like “He was so mean to Baz, Baz should have left him, Simon shouldn’t be forgiven” I just…it’s hard okay? And most people *wouldn’t* forgive someone after that and some may say that’s unrealistic but I think it’s just showing that Baz understood Simon was having a hard time too and TRUST ME! That is the best thing is when someone understand.

A N Y H O W

I also think Baz has an ass and I WAS FUCKING RIGHT ABOUT THE CHEST HAIR!!! TAKE THAT!!! MUHAHAHAHAHAHA!

*ahem*

Anyhow, I’m no pressure tagging: @caitybug @annabellelux @xivz @palimpsessed @foolofabookwyrm @trenchcoat-moth @bazzybelle @ladymac111 @tea-brigade

No pressure though!!! 💙💙

[lemonpeter]

STARKER, By Peter B. Parker

Chapter 2: Friends to Lovers & First Time

A/N: ok we may have gotten a little...carried away with this chapter. but writing this fic really is so much fun and we’re excited to hear what you guys think! -bloo and bri

Warnings: Peter is 17, first time, VERY nff (won’t go into detail because I want to show up in the tags, but this is almost completely s*x)

Chapter 1 💕 ao3

————

Tony was back. And it almost felt like he’d never been gone at all.

Peter was beyond grateful that his plan had worked. Sure, it might've been a bit desperate and hair-brained, even for him, but he was pretty sure that the end justified the means.

He had spent the past nine months in a sort of fog, going through the motions because that's what he was supposed to do. It was what was expected of him.

He knew that he had never properly grieved Tony, not really. He hadn't been able to handle it. And now he didn't have to.

Peter felt like a huge weight had been lifted from his shoulders. He hadn't felt this happy in a long time. Having Tony back was...indescribable.

The older man had always felt like home. The two of them were able to connect on so many levels. They both understood the pressures of being a hero, of having such great responsibility. Both knew what it felt like to suffer great losses. There were hours spent in the lab, poring over suit designs and updates, their intellectual and innovative capacities always meshing seamlessly, never clashing. They got each other, plain and simple.

But then he wavered between being content with his and Tony’s comfortable mentor/mentee relationship and doing what he really wanted to do: push things along so that he and Tony would finally be together, as two people that loved each other. Because he knew that deep down, Tony did love him, had always loved him in some capacity.

Peter had done a lot of thinking in the months after- Well, after. He’d always cared for Tony, and everyone knew about his crush and the hero-worship could be seen from the moon, but it wasn’t until the man was gone that he’d realized just how much he had truly come to love him. It had eaten away at his insides, the knowledge that he’d found the person he was meant to be with and then immediately lost him.

But Tony was back now. It was surreal.

And to be completely honest, Peter hadn’t even expected it to work, this whole thing; but he really shouldn’t have been surprised. Tony was a certified genius, of course EDITH was capable of creating such a complex illusion. And the teen thanked the universe that he was smart enough to understand the mechanics enough to alter them to fit his needs.

He thought back to Happy’s words on the quinjet in the Netherlands. He had said that Tony only ended up doing...what he did...because he knew that Peter would be here.

And here Peter was, doing...this.

Thankfully, this Tony had no reason to question the situation or his behavior. So, because he’d made it this far, and because he was so fucking sick of having everything good taken away from him, Peter decided to run with it.

For starters, in order to set the right tone, he decided that he wasn’t going to ever say the words “Mr. Stark” ever again. If he wanted to convince Tony that they were lovers, he needed to act like it himself. (And the title, though it was said with affection, always brought him back to feeling numb on that dusty planet, his arms wrapped around Tony’s neck before they disintegrated into nothing. Before he disintegrated into nothing.)

That also meant there was no need to hold himself back when it came to physical touch and affection. Tony had always been rather touchy-feely with him, and Peter now had the opportunity to initiate the contact himself. No over-thinking, no more being worried his advances would be met with rejection.

Tony’s voice startled him, pulling him out of his thoughts. "What'cha thinkin’ about, kid? Lost you for a minute there." The man was leaning against the counter of the bar, looking relaxed as ever, glass of scotch in hand. An easy smile curved his lips upwards and the shimmer in his eye was one Peter had seen a million times before.

The young man took a breath and looked down at his bare feet on the soft carpet of the living room, steeling himself where he sat on the couch. "Us." He cut his eyes upwards, making eye contact with the billionaire.

Tony simply raised a questioning eyebrow in response and Peter felt his heart lurch in his chest at the familiarity of that expression.

Before he could talk himself out of it, Peter decided to be brave and pushed himself up off the plush sofa. "I want there to be an us," he clarified, taking the two small stairs in stride and then making his way towards the older man. "I want us to be...together. I love you so much, Tony. And I- I think you love me, too." He stopped walking once he was about a foot away, biting his bottom lip. His hands were clasped in front of him.

“Say something,” was his soft mumble when all Tony did was cock his head to the side slightly, eyes searching his face for something. Peter felt his face get hot after a moment and he suddenly felt completely foolish. God, was this not even realistic in an illusion created by his own brain-

“Hey,” Tony said, gently. “Look at me.” He sat his glass down and took a step away from the bar and into the boy’s personal space. “Why do you look so panicked?” One of his hands moved to cup Peter’s face, thumb caressing his cheekbone. “It’s just me.” His voice was soft and warm, and that combined with the fact that he was touching Peter made the young man let out a quiet whimper.

“There’s no such thing as ‘just you’, Tony,” Peter replied, his own hand coming up to clutch at Tony’s wrist. It was warm under his fingertips. “You’re everything. You always have been.”

Tony tilted his head down a bit, forcing Peter to tilt his up to maintain their eye contact. “And you’ve always been everything to me. You’ve gotta know that, kid. Pete. Tell me you know that.” When Peter just continued to blink up at him owlishly, he chuckled lightly. “I invented time travel for you, baby. I couldn’t handle living in a world without you in it.” His voice had trailed off to barely a whisper by the time he finished.

There was something deep and warm in Tony’s eyes. Pride, adoration, vulnerability. And it made Peter feel like he could do absolutely anything.

He knew he was rushing things but- He was in charge here, he really could do whatever he wanted. So he opened his mouth again.

“Take me to bed, Tony,” Peter whispered, breath ghosting across against the older man’s lips. God, they hadn’t even kissed yet and here he was begging to sleep with Tony.

Whose eyes were searching his face again, but Peter still didn’t know for what, exactly. “Pete...Are you sure you-”

He cut the other off, the words coming out without his permission. “I’ve never wanted anything as much as I want this, as much as I want you.” Peter bit his lip after his interruption, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. He hadn't really meant to be that honest. “I love you, Tony,” he said, opening his eyes and making eye contact with the billionaire. “I want you.”

Something smoldered between them for a few seconds before-

“Then c’mere,” Tony rasped, pulling him close once more. He pressed a chaste kiss to the shorter man’s lips, followed by another soft peck, sighing as he pulled away. “I love you, Peter,” he mumbled before he licked his way into Peter's mouth.

Shivers shot up the younger man's spine at the sensation. He’d been kissed before, but it had never felt anything like this. Like fireworks, like everything was falling into place. A soft whine escaped him as one of Tony’s hands moved to hold the back of his neck, the other grabbing at his ass. “Tony,” he mewled. His own hands clutched the fabric of Tony’s t-shirt in an attempt to ground himself.

A soft hum left Tony’s mouth, his lips brushing against Peter’s. “I’ve got you,” he said, closing the distance between them once more.

Their tongues caressed each other languidly, the filthy, wet sounds almost deafening in the large room. Peter felt himself growing hard in his pants and he pressed his hips forward at the feeling, the lust twisting deep in his belly. It felt too good for the embarrassment of being so needy to take hold. He brushed up against Tony’s own burgeoning erection, which prompted them both to let out simultaneous groans.

“So good for me,” Tony breathed. “Let’s go, baby. C’mon, come to bed with me.” He jerked his shoulders up, encouraging Peter to wrap his arms around his neck, and grabbed at the smaller man’s thighs and behind in order to lift him up.

Peter closed his eyes and buried his face in the crook of Tony’s neck. When he opened them again, he was being placed on the soft, carpeted floor of the bedroom.

Tony stalked forward slowly, entwining his fingers with Peter’s and forcing him to shuffle backwards until he fell down onto the plush bed. “Hey.”

Peter’s eyes were wide, pupil’s blown as he stared up at the man of his dreams who was crawling up over his body until they were face to face with each other. He drew in a shaky breath, a hint of a smile gracing his lips. “Hi.”

Tony pressed a kiss to the tip of Peter’s nose. “You doin’ okay? Still wanna do this?”

Fighting the urge to roll his eyes, Peter nodded. He wished that Tony would stop asking, but at the same time, it felt nice. It made him feel important, valued. “I’m great, I want this. I promise.” He shifted a bit in order to wrap his arms around Tony’s neck as kisses were pressed into the crook of his neck and shoulder.

A grin overtook Tony’s face as he pulled back. “Then we’re wearing far too many clothes, huh?” He sat up so that he was straddling Peter’s waist, an arm raising to pull at the collar of his shirt and yank it over his head before throwing it somewhere across the room. Then he climbed off the brunette’s slight frame in order to shuck his jeans, leaving him clad in only a pair of black boxer briefs. He stood at the foot of the bed, one knee on the mattress. The fingers of his right hand brushed against the inside of Peter’s ankle. “Your turn, baby.”

Peter took a breath as he pushed himself up into a sitting position and crossed his arms in front of his stomach, gripping at the hem of his sweatshirt. He cut his eyes away, staring at the covers as he fiddled with the fabric somewhat anxiously. He was about to be naked in front of Tony for the first time. Sure, the older man had seen him in various states of undress before in order to fit him for the suit, but this was different.

He looked back up at Tony, the man’s warm, patient gaze bringing a flush to his cheeks. Peter steeled himself and started pulling the shirt up and over his head. He could do this. The garment was discarded over the side of the bed before he layed back down, pressing his heels into the mattress as he pushed his hips up in order to scoot back so that his head was now in the mountain of pillows at the head of the bed. His thumbs hooked in the waistband of his pants and pushed them down below his knees. “Help me,” he said imploringly, blinking up at Tony.

The billionaire reached down slowly, running his hands along the pale expanse of Peter’s thighs. The chocolate of his eyes darkened when one of Peter’s legs twitched at his touch. “You’re beautiful, Peter.” His voice was reverent as he looked down, gazing into Peter’s eyes as he pulled the sweatpants down the rest of the way and dropped them on the floor. “So perfect.” His beard scratched across the boy’s chest when he leaned down to press kisses to each of the freckles scattered on the smooth skin. “So strong.” A hand caressed his lower belly, running over his abs.

And for maybe the first time, under Tony’s eyes and his hands, Peter truly felt that way.

He pulled at Tony’s salt and pepper hair, gasping as the pecks against his flesh turned into wet, open-mouthed kisses, teeth occasionally pinching at his skin. In his boxers, his cock twitched as he got fully hard. “T-Tony,” he whimpered. “I’m- Feels good.”

Tony smirked into his stomach. “That means I’m doing something right then, kid.” He continued making his way south, Peter’s breath picking up as he released his hair to clutch at the covers. Once reaching the plaid boxers, he let his mouth land over the hard member inside. At first he just let Peter bask in the feeling of the warm, moist air before sucking slightly.

A choked cry left Peter’s lips and his hips bucked harshly. “Fuck, fuck, Tony do- Do that again,” he panted. Peering down the bridge of his nose, he watched as Tony, who had his own eyes closed, suckled at the head of his dick again, the fabric growing dark and damp. There was more suction this time. That familiar feeling was starting to tug behind his belly button. God, how was he already so close?

And apparently Tony could tell. “You close, honey? Gonna cum in your boxers from me kissing your cock?” He didn’t seem upset, pulling away to run his tongue from the base back up to the tip and sucking the salty fluid he found there through the plaid material. A groan rumbled deep in his chest. “Taste so good, baby.” He paused for a moment, looking up at Peter from underneath his eyelashes, making the younger man suck in a sharp breath. “Wanna see you, Pete. Can I take these off?” He fingered the waistband with his pointer finger.

“Yes, yes- Please.” Peter shifted his hips again in order to help Tony remove the last of his clothing. Once he was naked, his erection thudded obscenely against his lower belly, smearing saliva and precum over the skin there.

Tony took the hard flesh into his spit-slicked hand, stroking it slowly, teasing his young lover. He greedily drank in the wanton sounds that were escaping Peter, his own cock straining in his underwear as he pressed himself against the edge of the bed. Taking the now uncovered tip into his mouth, he began to bob his head.

Peter keened. One of his hands flew up to grab blindly at Tony’s hair again, eyes closed in pleasure. It was so wet, so warm- “Tony, Tony, please!” He fucked his hips up into Tony’s mouth, crying out again when the older man allowed his cock to slide to the back of his throat, making him gag slightly. “Ahhhh, shit!” The pressure was building up inside him once more and his whole body started to get tense. “I’m so, I’m s-so close, Tony.”

All the other man did was hum around his dick and take it all the way down to the root, his nose pressing up against the chestnut curls at the base. His hands clutched at Peter’s asscheeks, pulling them apart slightly in order to gently press the pad of his index finger against the boy’s quivering hole.

The vibrations, coupled with the unexpected sensation at his opening, had Peter cumming with a broken whine, hips stuttering as he emptied himself in Tony’s mouth.

Not pulling away until Peter was whimpering from overstimulation, Tony kissed the skin over the teen's hipbone. "That was so good, baby." Crawling until he was fully on the bed, he laid beside Peter, pulling him into his arms to bring their mouths together. "You were so good for me."

Peter moaned at the taste of himself on Tony's tongue. "Thank you," he whispered when they pulled away. He shifted, slipping his thigh between Tony's. The older man's erection was still pressing against the material of the tight, dark briefs. Reaching down, he cupped the impressive bulge in his hand. From what he could see and feel, Tony was larger than his own slightly above average length.

"That was amazing. But I want this now," Peter said coyly, tightening his grip before releasing. He looked into Tony's eyes, wanting him to see the truth in them, the trust. The love. "Want you to fuck me, Tony, please."

Tony groaned, flipping them over so he was once again looming over the other man. "Fuck, Pete. How can I say no when you beg so sweetly?" He brought up a hand to cup at Peter's cheek, thumb pulling at his bottom lip. A hiss escaped him when Peter began to lightly suck on the digit. "As good as that feels," he started, "I think we're gonna need some lube."

Peter paused for a moment, releasing the finger with a soft pop, before reaching behind his head and under one of the pillows, then proudly brandishing the small bottle and thrusting it in Tony's direction. "Got it."

“That’s perfect, honey,” the man mused, taking it. He clicked the top open before looking over Peter again. “Just want to do it like this? On your back, me like this?”

“Yes, Tony. I want...I want to see you,” Peter whispered, his heart pounding in his chest. It had been something he’d thought about for years, something he’d dreamed about. Far too many times. And it was finally happening.

Tony nodded, smiling down at him. “Then I can definitely do that,” he assured him, gently pushing his legs apart a little more in order to get between them.

Peter slightly shifted the position he was laying in, angling his hips so that it would be easier for Tony to get to him. There were plenty of pillows on the bed, so he leaned back onto them but stayed sitting up enough to see what was going on.

The clear, slick liquid was poured over Tony’s fingers. It was probably an excessive amount, but he figured they were better safe than sorry. If he was going to be Peter’s first time, they definitely needed to focus on prepping.

The younger man bit his lip gently, watching as Tony’s hand disappeared between his legs. Then he felt the cold, wet fingers up against his hole and a surprised gasp left him.

“Sorry.” Tony chuckled, his fingers prodding gently at the tight muscle as he talked. “Meant to warn you about that. It’s cold.”

“Little too late for that,” Peter mumbled, but he was smiling again as soon as the initial shock wore off. It was really happening. Tony was touching him without a hint of resistance, like it was something they’d done a million times before.

Tony’s eyes studied Peter’s expression as he started pressing forward with the tip of one finger, making sure the young man wasn’t hurting at all. He paused as soon as there was even the slightest hint of pain on his face. “Need me to stop?”

“No, Tony,” the teen breathed. “Don’t stop. It’s just...different.” He tried to relax, that way it would be less uncomfortable and even maybe go faster.

“Right...just let me know if you need me to stop. And I will, immediately,” Tony assured him.

And Peter knew the words true. “I know. Promise, I’ll tell you. But it’s really okay.”

Tony nodded slowly, continuing on with his task. His finger gently pushed in further, trying to relax Peter’s muscles as he went.

Peter’s eyes slipped shut as he instinctively clenched around the intrusion. It was such an odd feeling, but it wasn’t bad. Just odd. Different. New.

He slowly relaxed more as Tony kept working and eventually a second finger was added. His hole began to loosen, letting the older man easily slide his fingers in and out as he continued the prep.

When Tony decided he was satisfied with the results, he pulled his fingers free and pushed his own briefs off.

Peter’s breath caught as he watched the length of Tony’s cock come uncovered, bowing under its own weight once the clothing was completely off. And all of it was going to go in him.

He knew he could take it. He had faith in the prep that Tony had done for him. But that didn’t make him feel any less nervous.

“Maybe we can start in a different position?” Peter suggested, trying to keep the nervousness out of his voice. He wasn’t sure if he was completely successful or not.

Tony just looked amused, slicking up his cock with a generous amount of lube as he watched the teen. “Whatever you want, baby. What do you have in mind?”

Peter chewed his lip, slowly sitting up more before moving so that he was on his hands and knees. Though he felt terribly exposed in the new position, it was much preferred to the alternative. He glanced over his shoulder at Tony. “Like this?” He asked, almost sounding shy.

“Yeah, we can do that,” Tony told him softly, sliding his hands over the younger man’s ass gently. His bottom lip found its way between his teeth. “Definitely can do that. You’re still sure about this, though?”

“I am. I promise I am.” Peter got more comfortable, moving down so that he was leaning on his elbows. He felt so empty now, without Tony’s fingers inside him, and he couldn’t wait to be filled again. “Take me, Tony. I’m ready for you.”

The older man nodded, stroking himself for a moment before positioning the head of his cock at Peter’s entrance. “I’m ready for you too, honey. I’ve been ready.”

“Then what are you waiting for?” Peter asked flirtatiously, grinning back as he watched Tony. Then his grin melted away, replaced by a mixed expression of pleasure and a bit of discomfort as Tony thrust his hips forward slightly.

“Shit, you’re tight,” Tony mumbled, hands holding onto Peter’s hips as he started pressing forward. He watched as the teen’s hole stretched around his cock, easily taking the entire length. “Fuck, Pete.”

Peter buried his face against one of the pillows, mouth open wide around a moan. “And you’re huge,” he breathed, weakly pressing his hips back.

Tony pushed himself in until his hips were flush with Peter’s ass, breathing hard as he bottomed out. “Oh, you are so perfect. So...yes, god.” His hands cupped the young man’s ass, squeezing before he remembered to check in again. “Is it good for you too? Nothing’s hurting?”

“No, not hurting, don’t worry,” Peter assured him with a shaky moan. “Don’t stop. I need you to move, need you to fuck me, Tony.”

The man grinned a little, nodding. “I can do that.” He started with slow thrusts, letting Peter get used to the movement at first.

Peter kept his face against the plush bedding, breathing hard. Before he realized what was going on, he felt a tear slip from the corner of his eye. Why was he crying? He was finally getting what he wanted, there would be no point in tears. It made no sense.

But then he realized that was just it. He was getting what he’d wanted for so long. Tony’s love, his intimacy, his attention. Just...having Tony at all.

The realization brought a whole round of tears, making him bury his face in the pillow so that Tony couldn’t see him cry. If his shoulders shook with his sobs, Tony wouldn’t be able to tell with the way he was moving anyways.

He was enjoying it immensely regardless, whimpering through his tears and moving his hips along with Tony’s as the older man moved behind him. The grip on his waist loosened a little and Peter whined, wiggling a bit. “Don’t stop. Please, don’t stop.” He wasn’t even ashamed of how needy he sounded, it felt too good.

“I’m not stopping, Pete. Just...I want to see you, while we do this,” Tony whispered. “Is that okay?”

Peter stilled, sniffling a little. If he turned around, it would be obvious that he had been crying. And Tony couldn’t know. He didn’t want to ruin this.

“Is it okay?” Tony repeated, sounding a bit nervous. It was strange to hear such an inflection in his voice. The man was always so strong, so sure of himself.

It stirred something deep within Peter. “Yes. Yeah, it’s okay. I want to see you too.” He wiped his eyes quickly, trying to dry his tears and make it unnoticeable that he had been crying. But he wasn’t so sure that it worked. He felt Tony’s hands completely release him and he steeled himself before turning over so that he was once again laid out on his back. “Hi,” was his soft mumble as their eyes met.

Tony smiled at him with his eyes as much as his mouth. “Hey, honey,” he replied just as gently, as if they were in a trance that would break if they were any louder. Positioning himself back between the slighter man’s spread legs, he took his erection in hand and slowly breached the ring of muscle. A shuddering breath escaped him as he kept going until he was completely seated in the tight, warm heat. “Peter,” he sighed.

Peter closed his eyes briefly, taking a moment to appreciate how deep Tony was buried inside him at this angle. “So deep.” He breathed the words out, groaning a bit when Tony pulled out only to start thrusting in earnest. “S-so good, Tony.” One of his legs bent at the knee in order to wrap around the man’s thick waist.

“Yeah? Feels good?” Tony’s voice was breathy as he pounded into Peter, holding himself up on his arms. He shifted his weight in order to clutch at the thigh that was pressed against his abdomen. “That’s all I want, baby, just want you to feel good. Wanna make you happy.”

Peter felt like he’d been waiting his whole life to hear those words. Because hadn’t been truly happy in so long, and here he was now, with the man of his dreams, feeling loved and cherished, so happy it was overwhelming.

The soft sob bubbled up from Peter’s lungs before he could stop it, and he immediately slapped a hand over his mouth in an attempt to muffle the sound. But they wouldn’t stop, and neither would the tears that were again stinging behind his closed eyelids. God, he had to stop fucking crying. He felt Tony slow down before freezing completely and blinked rapidly before shutting his eyes, not wanting to see the expression on his lover’s face.

But he could imagine it perfectly well.

One of Tony’s hands brushed against his cheek. “You’re crying again. What’s wrong? Peter? Did I-” He cut himself off with an audible swallow, voice unsure. “Did I do something? Does it hurt?” Starting to pull out, he stopped when Peter’s eyes snapped open and a hand clutched at his wrist.

Sniffling, Peter shook his head as he tried desperately to control breathing and his wobbling lower lip. “No no no, you’re perfect. I’m fine. I just- I just love you so much, Tony.” He hoped that the truth in his words could be heard. Because it was true. This was everything he had ever wanted.

The shine of tears appeared in the older man’s eyes, too. He shot a shaky smile down at Peter, reaching his head down to pepper kisses on his face before landing the last one on his lips, their foreheads pressed together. “Oh, baby. I love you too, Peter.” They kissed deeply for a moment, Tony starting up with gentle thrusts again. His hand wrapped around Peter’s cock that was trapped between their bodies, stroking it in time with the movement of his hips. “And I’ll show you just how much, honey. You gonna let me?” While his hand kept the same pace, he began to speed up the rocking of his lower half.

Peter let out a choked cry as the head of Tony’s dick repeatedly nudged against his prostate. “Yes, Tony, fuck, fuck me,” he heaved, breath catching with each thrust, the soft ‘ah- ah- ah’s filling the bedroom. Despite getting emotional, he was still extremely close to the edge, it wouldn’t take much for him to be pushed over. “‘M so close, Tony.” His legs splayed to the side, muscles unable to hold them up any longer.

If the way he began to lose his rhythm was any indication, the dark haired man wasn’t faring any better. “Yeah, baby? Gonna cum again, cum on my cock?” His voice was rough with the exertion of holding himself upright, his core flexed tightly.

Peter gasped, hole twitching wildly as he shallowly pumped his hips up into Tony’s grip. “Mmhmm. Want- want you to fill me up, Tony, please.”

“Shit,” Tony hissed, his balls drawing up as he reached his peak at the young man’s words. “Jesus, Peter, fuck-”

Peter groaned at the feeling of the hard flesh jerking inside him, the heavy warmth that was filling him. It triggered his own orgasm, thick ropes of cum shooting from his tip and covering his stomach and Tony’s fingers. His toes twitched as he curled them, lost in the sensations. “Tony, Tony, love you,” he muttered through the haze clouding his head.

Tony trembled above him, hips still thrusting shallowly as he rode out the aftershocks. He pressed a messy kiss to Peter’s temple. “I love you too, Pete. So much. And I’m never gonna let you forget it.” He let his lips rest there for a moment before pulling away and slowly pulling out of Peter before rolling off to the side. His arms grabbed the smaller man and pulled him in, close to his chest.

Peter sniffled lightly, squeezing Tony’s waist. He stretched a bit, getting comfortable in the man’s hold before pressing his mouth to one of the gently defined pec muscles. “I love you more,” he whispered quietly, eyes slipping shut as they lay there in the afterglow.

He hadn’t been this content in nearly a year. And now, it was all his. This feeling, this man, this love.

And he wasn’t going to let it go.

[reallybadfeeling]

My Obikin Playlist Masterpost Part 2

Not that anybody was really waiting for this, but here is the second part of the playlist with an explanation for each song. If you are interested in reading my rant on the first 20 songs, you can check the post I made last week HERE.

Without further ado, I'll leave you to my rant for songs 21 to 40.

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❧ One in a Million - Midnight to Monaco

Tears fall like acid rain and it burns me through the skin It's taken everything from me, I've lost my innocence The bats brings the night today, watch them turn the sky to black Like a gun that fires that sound again Frightens me until the bitter end I can't keep holding on And I hide away I need it to keep me from breaking down And I'm under Baby I can't carry on, dead and I've been buried on Baby, I was one in a million Even if our love was strong, take me down and let it fall Baby, I was one in a million And I was holding, burning, waking, turning Tasting blood and losing time I want to get a hold of myself Baby, I was one in a million [...] And I need it to keep me from thinking I won't find my wings no more

This entire song is about how someone's life gets absolutely destroyed by drug abuse. Or at least, that's how I always interpreted this. But drug abuse always makes me think about any kind of obsessions doing exactly the same thing. So I love this song for Anakin in particular. That "I was one in a million" giving me this "Chosen One" vibe. Like he got lost on the way to what he was supposed to be, and now that he's fallen he has no clue how to get back to what he was supposed to be, that one in a million.

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❧ Losing My Religion - R.E.M.

The lengths that I will go to The distance in your eyes Oh no, I've said too much I set it up That's me in the corner That's me in the spotlight Losing my religion Trying to keep up with you And I don't know if I can do it Oh no, I've said too much I haven't said enough [...] Every whisper, of every waking hour I'm choosing my confessions Trying to keep an eye on you Like a hurt, lost and blinded fool, fool [...] Consider this the hint of the century Consider this the slip That brought me to my knees, failed

Another classic song that is in basically any ships' playlist. And it fits so much with unrequited love (or pining in general). How can I not think of Obi-Wan trying desperately to be a good Jedi while he's well aware of his feelings for Anakin?

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❧ Hurt Me - Lapsley

Can't look at you the same way, anticipatin' heartbreak And I know, and I know, and I know I'm puttin' on a brave face to meet you in the same place And I know, and I know, and I know Gotta let my mind find another space 'Cause I heard these scars never go away And now I'm runnin' out of ways to numb the pain So if you're gonna hurt Why don't you hurt me a little bit more? Just dig a little deeper Push a little harder than before [...] Like breathing underwater, what's the law and order? I don't know, I don't know, I don't know You're sitting in a corner, hiding til it's over And it shows, and it shows, and it shows Buildin' up my walls just to tear them down Tell me that it's love, force me to drown Buildin' up my walls just to tear them down Tell me that it's love And I thought you said you still loved me [...] And I'm counting down the seconds that we have I can see the end in sight, at last So if you're gonna hurt me Why don't you hurt me a little bit more?

This entire song makes me think of one of those situations where both of them are pining and convinced that the other is about to tell them something that would end up breaking their heart. Basically first half is Obi-Wan knowing from the start that they won't work, maybe because he thinks Anakin is in love with Padmé and that's what Anakin wants to talk about; second half is Anakin, sure that Obi-Wan would deny having feelings for him because of how much he loves being a Jedi so he tries to be a better Jedi for the sake of Obi-Wan. Because I love the trope of both of them being too oblivious to realize they are in love.

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❧ The Shelter of My Love - Astropol

When you have nothing to lose No one dear and no one to care for Non one sees you but I do I'll take you in I won't let you go Oh the middle of the night Black as tar and eager to hold you Just as pretty as my love Just as hungry Just as eternal [...] When you have no bridge to burn No place to go, no place to return to No one loves you like I do I love you [...] When you have nothing to lose And nightfall comes, eager to hold you No one loves you like I do I love you I love you, I love you Oh shelter of my faith All the peril, all the weight Mighty glorious The shelter of my faith Oh shelter of my trust All the longing, all the lust God will help you if you lost the shelter of my trust

I'm perfectly aware that this is a song about faith. It's basically like a call to pray because even when you are lost the one person that will always be there for you is God. BUT, this actually works pretty well for the Jedi Order too. And if we think of how Anakin joined the Jedi, how he felt like the only thing he would lose is his mother, it kinda makes sense with these lyrics. And even Obi-Wan: he was given to the Jedi when he was so young that that's the only life he knows. At the same time, it can be about Anakin and Obi-Wan finding that solace in each other too, because sure, the entire Order is there to support them. But it's almost like it's their last option to them, because when in need the first person they go to is the other.

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❧ The Night We Met - Lord Huron

I am not the only traveler Who has not repaid his debt I've been searching for a trail to follow again Take me back to the night we met And then I can tell myself What the hell I'm supposed to do And then I can tell myself Not to ride along with you I had all and then most of you Some and now none of you Take me back to the night we met I don't know what I'm supposed to do Haunted by the ghost of you Oh, take me back to the night we met When the night was full of terrors And your eyes were filled with tears When you had not touched me yet Oh, take me back to the night we met

You should know me by now. If a song that is basically perfect for Obi-Wan post RotS, I'm gonna find it. And this one is just PERFECT! Like, Obi-Wan absolutely feels like he owes something to the universe because he is the one who failed Anakin, who allowed him to fall. So I imagine him wanting a do-over, a chance to stay away from Anakin so that Anakin can be better and his own heart can't be broken in such a terrible way. Basically, this is also perfect for a time traveler Obi-Wan trying to fix things from day 1.

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❧ Danger - JKAY feat Shola Ama

I'm a million reasons in And I'm going out on a limb But I can't, no I can't deny Cause I, I fell in love with danger And I think I found a stranger in you The boy that I knew, left me torn into two And I don't know what to do

Nothing fancy about this one, just Obi-Wan realizing there is a wild side to the cute, totally unable to flirt young teenager he took care of for so long. Basically something to write smut on. You all know you need these kind of songs too. (And I picked the acoustic version because it gives me more soft love-making vibes, but the original one is perfect for a more passionate kind of mood).

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❧ Amandoti - Giovanni Lindo Ferretti

Loving you makes me weary, guts my insides (It’s) Something that feels like laughing in tears Loving you makes me weary, it makes me sorrowful What can you do (about it), that’s life That’s life, my (life) [...] Loving you comforts my sleepless nights It’s something that replaces old dead flames Loving you comforts me, it gives me joy What can you do (about it), that’s life But (that) life is my life Love me once more, do it softly One year, one month, one hour (Do it) Hopelessly Love me once more, do it softly Just for an hour But let it be forever

I was forced to put the live version from the original composer in the playlist, but a couple of weeks ago I posted a link to Maneskin's cover of this song (which, isn't on Spotify). You can check it out HERE, with a full translation of the lyrics (yes, Italian songs will always be a thing for this playlist, get over it). Like I said in the tags of that post, this is just another one of those songs that give me post RotS Obi-Wan feels. Just him all alone and heartbroken wishing he could feel Anakin's love just once more. Simply perfection.

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❧ Lemon Eyes - Meg Myers

Hush now baby, there's no need to cry Let me wipe away those lemon eyes All your worries, such a waste of time You can't even see how much you're mine You're so bitter, bitter, bitter, yellow Settle, settle, got to settle down, okay Listen, listen, you listen, yellow It's a killer, a killer, a killer jealousy Lemon eyes, you're mine Yellow eyes, all mine I bet you wanna walk away, run away, look away, turn away Honey you can't hide Lemon eyes, all mine

Do I even have to explain this? It's basically perfect for all of Anakin's issues with jealousy, but with what yellow eyes mean in this fandom it could absolutely be about Sith!Anakin. It's just such a fitting song for these two, with Obi-Wan trying to reason with a very unreasonable Anakin... (And I might have anonymously suggested to someone to listen to it as a good song for their fic. *coff coff* @tennessoui *coff coff*)

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❧ 10 Years - Daði Freyr

We've been together for a decade now Still everyday I'm lovin' you more If I could do it all again I'd probably do it all the same as before I don't wanna know what would've happened If I never had had your love I didn't became myself before I met you I don't wanna know what would've happened If I never had felt you love Everything about you, I like We started out so fast Now we can take it slower Love takes some time Takes a little time, so take a litte time As it ages like wine [...] And just when I thought that my heart was full I found place that I never explored You're so fascinating And I can't remember the last time I was bored [...] How does it keep getting better? Everyday our love finds a new way to grow The time we spend together Simply feels good We got a good thing going

How could I not put this song in this playlist? Like, it can literally be about how in the many years together, their love for each other grew and grew, and changed to get better with time. But it can also be just Anakin and Obi-Wan in an established relationship, since this is technically a song about a ten years anniversary. I just LOVE IT. It's super sweet and we all need fluff sometimes.

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❧ Different Kind Of Love - Kid Runner

It was always you there Dancing towards me Grabbing both my hands like Here we go, here we go again Maybe it was destiny We were so familiar But you caught me staring And I don't know, I don't know, I guess [...] And when you're near me I can't help but be under your spell Can I make you believe you're the only one I need? [...] It must've been something A switch in my brain It kept me in motion It drove me insane It must've been something Something you said You're pulling me under Holding me close Inside my head Oh, it's a different kind of love And when I see your face I know, I know You got me going Oh, and this could be enough I'm dreaming wide awake I know, I know

Classic friends to lovers AU song that works wonders with Anakin's kind of love, all obsessive and stuff. Definitely can picture teen Anakin pining over Obi-Wan to the tune of this, all awkward boners at absolutely inappropriate times and Obi-Wan never truly pointing it out, because he doesn't want to make Anakin even more uncomfortable.

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❧ Ruthless - GIRLI

Home? What's that? I got a doll's house with a few cracks Grew too tall, now I'm poking out the attic My feet are in the basement 'cause I never wanna hack it Life, what's that? Life, what's that? [...] Take my soul, Take me down Take me back to the beginning of this when I was still innocent Me, sorry who? I'm a kid in a grown-up suit Looking in the mirror tryna figure out who's Banging on the glass 'cause they're tryna break through Is it me? Is it you? Think it's me, wish I knew Take me, use me, screw me over Play me like I like losing Trip me, trick me, drug me Say you love me but you like cheating You're the only one to blame You made me this way Guess that's why I'm so damn Ruthless You made me, you made me You made me ruthless You made me, you made me You made me ruthless Only way to do it When you break me and I lose it Oh, you made me You made me so damn fucking ruthless [...] Yeah it's tragic All the bad bits Made me so damn ruthless No, it's not me I don't wanna be Ruthless

Being a woman, I know perfectly that this song is about how sometimes women have to grow up to be mean because of all of the abuse they go throw in their life. But I kind of see Anakin as this person that would absolutely blame everyone else for his fall to the Dark Side and this works so well! Like, the doll house is a metaphor for how the Jedi Order was supposed to be his home, but in the end he felt like he was used, like the Jedi told him they loved him just to trick him into doing whatever they wanted, basically cheating him of a simpler life with his mom. And even the looking in the mirror thing could be when he's already in the Vader suit and he doesn't know if Vader is what he was supposed to be all along or somewhere inside him there's this young innocent child trying to get out. What can I say, most of the times I have Obi-Wan feelings. But every once in a while I find something twisted enough to give me Anakin/Vader feelings too.

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❧ All or Nothing - Wild Youth

I remember when we were younger We used to stay up late We used to watch the sun go down, the sun go down Yeah at night I, I think about ya How I spent so long living without ya You're all I need, the air I breathe So hold tight, I'm coming 'Cause it's all or nothing I'm a million miles away and I feel so low I've been driving all night just to get back home to you To you See the sunrise, it's a classi break Driving down roads that I used to take with you With you Every streetlight, new horizon Start to wonder if you realise Oh, we were vain, was more than friends So hold tight, I'm coming 'Cause it's all or nothing

Okay, this is kind of perfect for a very specific kind of AU. Like, the "they used to be childhood friends, then got separated by life, but they were always meant for each other, so after meeting once by chance after years separated, they can't go back to their life, they have to stay with the other" kind of specific AU. The song might work with how the Clone Wars kept them separate too, but... yeah. It's kinda specific. Sorry not sorry.

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❧ Someone Like You - Noah Kahan feat. Joy Oladokun

Guess I'm a mess now Lost with my head down I haven't heard from you in weeks You must have left town I can't go back now And all that I have now Are those feelings I felt Knowing that no one else can bring them back out And I've been trying to find a silver lining But I can't But I can't Now that I can't hold you I wish that I had tried to Do more not to lose you Now that I can't find you Because the second you left, yeah the voice in my head screamed "What did I do?" Now you're gone and all I want is someone like you

Once again, ignoring that this is a song about a couple breaking up after one of the two cheated because this is also perfect for Anakin confessing his love for Obi-Wan as soon as he's a Knight. He was sure that would make Obi-Wan accept his love and try to get in a relationship, instead Obi-Wan panicked and asked to get sent as far away from Anakin as he could. So of course Anakin is filled with regret about his confession.

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❧ Big Boy - Charlotte Cardin

Maybe if I spell it out Big boy will take me on proper You nailed my heart to your wall You never dusted off after [...] Maybe if I'm a broken wing Big boy in my nest You nailed my heart to your wall And disposed of the rest of me With your push and shove Like what's love ain't love But it's love to me My boy is not a man yet My boy is not a man yet But boy do I love it when you kiss my neck Oh boy last night was perfect You're changing my mind Like what's mine ain't mine Be mine to be Maybe if we try again Big boy we could have it my way You nailed my heart to your wall But it was damaged anyways

Another song to write smut to, but smut with feels. Mainly Obi-Wan's, that maybe feels like Anakin played with him just so that they could sleep together, but never actually tried to put a pin on what their relationship is supposed to be after. And Obi-Wan realizes that part of the reason is that Anakin is still so young and maybe he's the one that made a mistake. Like, he's not even sure that what he feels is real, but he still keeps following what Anakin wants because what is the alternative after all?

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❧ Home with You - Marie Dahlstrom

Happy to be home with you Happy to wake up with you Even after all that you've benne through Happy that you feel the same Hope that I can ease the pain Happy to come by 'Cause you just give me life And I love spending time with you It's easy when I want you like that I don't regret it even if you might think That I've got Plenty other reasons in my head Plenty other questions still unsaid Nobody knows where you'll go but I'm here [...] I don't understand it all Still I will accept your flaws Just the way that you're accepting mine No, I'm not really one to judge We can laugh it off because It's just one life for you and I and I know [...] Feels so good when it's You by my side I could just stay all night I could just stay all night I love the things you do Nobody knows where we'll go but I'm here Baby, whenever you need me Baby come over, baby come over Whenever you need I will always be by your side

This song can honestly fit multiple things. It can absolutely be Obi-Wan accepting that Anakin reaches out for him only in certain situations and him always being open to it, no matter how their relationship isn't really the traditional kind of relationship (like, a friends with benefits kind of deal). But it can also be Obi-Wan and Anakin getting together when Anakin is already Vader, so Obi-Wan is slowly falling to the Dark Side too. You can also just use this as another song to write soft love making too since it's so slow and soft. Or just do whatever you want with it.

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❧ Hands Tied - Beatrich

You got me home sick for your arms The arms that keep me close But you just slip though my fingers Like I'm tryna catch a ghost I'd travel to the moon and back For you and all that you could say is That you didn't ask for that You'd never ask I'd travel to the moon and back For you and all that you could say is That you didn't ask for that You'd never And you stand there Looking at me with my hands tied And how foolish Foolish of me to let this one slide I'm terrified The roots are way too deep And there is no way out You just stand there Looking at me with my hands tied

Huge vibes of Anakin being mad in love with Obi-Wan, and Obi-Wan pushing him away because he sees Anakin as a brother, not as a lover. And there's all kind of pining from Anakin because of the unrequited love and he tries to do crazy stuff for Obi-Wan hoping he will fall in love with him but it fails... Yeah, that's the angst that hurts in the best way! (But, you know, can totally be reversed to Obi-Wan in love with Anakin in a canon scenario with Anakin married to Padmé.)

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❧ Same Bed - Lola Young

I'm too quick to judge, too fast to fuck If we're lonely and I'm No good in love, 'cause the last time I ended up a little dead inside Sorry I lied, I do not want you, no Sorry my pride's a little too high To let you know I cried when you said you had to go, baby [...] (whispered) Fuck then, don't do this to me now Don't say my name when you're talking to me Don't say we're on the same page Don't look away when you walk into me I like the pain, I like the pain I'm making it hard for you to move on And be lonely 'cause I'm So good with words that the last time I broke his heart [...] I got a bit drunk yesterday evening and I Told you some things I didn't mean, oh did I? Hate it, I hate it when I get complacent I love it when you pull that face and we make mistakes Utterly wasted And wake up in the same bed In the same t-shirt I told you I loved you in The same regrets Like wearing the t-shirt I told you I love you in [...] I only like you when you're naked At least, that's what I proved to myself Can't make a fool of myself, baby God, it's so frustrating, making such a fool of myself Gotta make do with myself, baby I only like you when you're naked At least, that's what I proved to myself You make a fool of myself, baby Let's overcomplicate it, maybe just lose ourselves

Back with the complicated relationship and the angst. Can see this in a canon compliant AU with both Anakin and Obi-Wan not really wanting to admit they are in love with each other, but somehow they always end up sleeping together, and telling the other how much they love them just to regret all of it the day after. Basically making things complicated for no reason other than Obi-Wan not wanting to break the rules/his belief that he's meant for infinite sadness, but also because Anakin can't give up on this twisted love despite how much it hurts him and being petty in trying to make Obi-Wan suffer just as much.

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❧ Ghost - Harper

Not putting lyrics here because this entire song gives me Obi-Wan on Tatooine post-RotS vibes. Like, he's literally on the planet Anakin came from, there to protect Anakin's kids. OF COURSE he sees Anakin's "ghost". Like, he sees so much of Anakin in Luke when he grows up. And it feels kind of fitting as a punishment for Obi-Wan to be slowly going crazy because he keeps being haunted by this image of Anakin around him. Literally this line: "why you gotta make me weak to make me stronger". That's Obi-Wan trying to get over this love for Anakin and realizing that he has to mourn and suffer before he becomes stronger and able to get free from this ghost's hold. (But, you know, Anakin's ghost might even be actually Anakin, in a scenario where Anakin is actually trapped inside of Vader and trying to get free by reaching out to Obi-Wan for help.)

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❧ Qualcosa di Grande - Cesare Cremonini

What happened, you changed You are not the same Or are you still the one That grew up with me What happened, you ran away And with you so did my life I searched for it, I searched for it But I found it only in you There's something important between us That you can never change Not even if you want to But there's something important between us That you can never forget Not even if you want to What happened, you fell You fell too low and now you try to climb back up But it's a struggle you don't want [...] What happened, your light Your light is obscured By someone that I know And that took you away from me What happened, your star Your star eclipsed And now (I dare you to) shine from the darkness without me

Yet another song that gives me RotS feels. It's obviously a break up song, a song about regrets and struggling to move on. So of course in it I see Anakin falling to the Dark Side and Obi-Wan trying to remind him of what is between the two of them so that Anakin comes back to him. (If you want to read the complete translation, you can check it out here.)

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❧ Dark Side - Phoebe Ryan

At your worst, you're the best Baby I don't want another version, no Hard to love, hard to trust But don't change Don't be a better person for me 'Cuz I'm in love with your dark side I'm in love with your dark side So don't turn on the light [...] Even if it hurts, I want you heart Even at your worst, I love you hard If you wanna keep me, go too far

Another song that is more of a both!Sith AU but also something Vaderwan would work honestly. I like the twisted nature of this kind of love so much in fics. Can absolutely works with any version of Anakin or/and Obi-Wan being the bad guy in the story.

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All done! All 20 new songs I added to the original playlist explained away. Like last time, I hope you find any of this entertaining or useful. If any of this inspires your creativity, don't be shy and tag me on your stuff. I'll gladly read it/watch it/enjoy it.

[p0tatonoah]

Couples Therapy

I got a lot of comments more like 3 or 4 on my breakup fic asking for a part 2 where Neil and Andrew patch things up and live happily ever after… This is not it. But you can read it as an alternative ending if you want. Or you can read it as a one shot, it’s up to you. 💁🏽‍♂️

I just thought: people are not always happy, and they don’t always talk, and relationships are not always perfect, so what if Andreil went to couples therapy? 😌

✨You can also read it on A03

✨Wanna read the rest of my stuff?

—-

Session 1

Sarah Barker was in her office and she could hear her 5 o’lock clients arguing outside her door.

“I don’t care what Betsy said, I will not talk to some stranger about our lives, Andrew.”

“You said you’d try. So get your ass in that office and try.”

“I can’t believe it. How can you be ok with this?”

“I… Just shut up and get inside.”

“Hi, I’m Sarah Barker” said the counselor and then, seeing Neil’s scowl, added “You must be Neil.”

“Whatever.” He said, taking a seat on the couch. Andrew wasn’t amused by this behavior, but it wasn’t unexpected.

“Hi, I’m Andrew”

“Hi Andrew, nice to meet you in person. Betsy has talked so much about you,” Andrew’s eyes narrowed instantly “Only good things, don’t worry. Anyway, what brought you here today?”

Andrew looked at his husband’s expression of fake boredom and began talking.

 He told the counselor how they’d been fighting lately over the most stupid things like when Andrew forgot to take the clothes out of the washing machine or when he bought the wrong brand of cat food.

“And why do you think these things are ‘stupid’“ she said, adding air quotes with her fingers.

“Because who even cares about that? They’re such small things. He certainly never bothered about that before.”

 And then they proceeded to perform a live show of a fight about said stupid things. Neil accused Andrew of being careless with his stuff, claiming he was tired of always having to pick up after him. This escalated quite quickly and soon Sarah was having to decide whether or not to believe in the stabbing threats she was hearing.

 When the session was over, she took a deep breath and made a mental note to unfriend Betsy Dobson.

 Session 2

 Sarah greeted her clients and asked how they were doing. All she got in return was a grunt from Andrew and  50 minutes of complete silence.

 Session 3

 “This is useless. We are perfectly capable of dealing with our own shit.”

“If that’s true, then why did you sleep on the couch last night?”

“I told you I dozed off, it wasn’t intentional Andrew.”

  Maybe this session will be more productive , Sarah thought. Only to be proven otherwise when her clients left early without speaking to each other.

 Session 4

 “Hi gentleman, how are we feeling today?”

“Like shit” was Andrew’s response. Neil just shrugged and took his usual seat on the couch.

“How was your week? Did you managed to talk about-“

“It was fine. Everything’s just fine .”

“Neil…”

“No Andrew, I told you this was bullshit. If anything it’s just making things worse.”

“How so?” Sarah asked.

There was a moment of silence before Neil sighed tiredly and began telling the past week’s events. He and Andrew had gone to a function last Friday. The whole team was there and it was supposed to be this huge fancy thing to raise money to the LGBTQIA+ youth shelter and Neil was really looking forward to it. Socializing had become easier over the years and he was excited he could help a cause so close to is heart. But Andrew had ruined everything when he pulled a knife on one of the guests . The man had asked Neil for a picture “Big Exy star like this, my kids are going to freak out” the older man had said. Everything was ok until the stranger decided to hug Neil without clearing it with him first. After that everything was just a blur of knives being drawn and the security escorting them out.

 “Andrew, what was going through your mind at that moment?” Sarah asked.

“I was just trying to protect you,” he said staring at the floor, unable to look at Neil. “When I saw that man touching you without consent I just…“

“I get it, but we’ve talked about this, Drew. Not everyone is… Fuck. Do you know how bad things are for coach right now? For us?”

“Oh your precious Exy. Shouldn’t mess that up, right?”

 “Ok, let’s take a deep breath and think for a second. I’m sure you’re not here just so you can hurt each other further.” Sarah said, trying to keep things from going south.

 “I’ll give you a task,” Neil’s scowl was so deep Sarah thought he’d hurt himself. “It’s pretty simple. I just want you to write down what’s bothering you about your relationship. Doesn’t matter how small  or insignificant you think it might be, just write. This should help organizing your thoughts and once the problem is ‘visible’, it’s easier to find strategies on how to deal with it.”

 As Sarah walked them to the door, she said “It goes without saying, but please don’t read each other’s lists.”

 Session 5

 Of course they read each other’s lists.

 “He doesn’t say ‘I hate you as often’” Andrew read the list out loud. “What does this even mean?”

Neil threw his arms in the air, exasperated. “It means stay out of my business Andrew” he finally said, snatching the list from his husband.

 Sarah had to admit she was curious about that one. “What does it mean Neil?”

 Neil groaned and threw himself onto the couch. “We used to talk more, about all kinds of things. And you used to be funny and I’d pester you because I knew that when you told me you hated me, it only meant that you hated how much you loved me.” Neil spoke the last part like it left a bittersweet taste in his mouth.

“That’s why,” Andrew said quietly. 

“Why what?”

“Why I don’t say it anymore,” He sat down to look his husband in the eyes. “I love you Neil, and I don’t hate any part of it.”

  Aha, Sarah thought, it was worth it. Am I not the best?  

 But damn her and her stupid thoughts, because two minutes later they were at it again.

 “Once after sex you said it was fine .”

“What’s wrong with that?”

“We all know what that means, Neil!”

  Oh Boy, this was going to be a bumpy ride.

 Session 6

 After the list fiasco, Sarah thought she’d have to take things slow if she wanted these men to talk about their issues without storming off.

 The session started off ok, Neil was the first to talk and said nothing had happened that week. Suspecting the look on his face, Sarah asked “And how does it feel, having an uneventful week?”

“It’s fine.”

“You don’t look fine.” Andrew snorted at that, but didn’t say anything.

“Last week you said you guys used to talk more. What changed?” Sarah continued.

“I don’t know. At first we just fell into this comfortable silence. Being around each other was enough and then we became so busy with the team…”

“uhm. I see. Do you agree with that Andrew?”

The blond was in silence for a while, and when he spoke his voice was almost a whisper. “I thought I was losing you. To the team… Let me finish” he said when Neil made to speak. “All those people were so brand new, no ghosts, no dead mothers and you looked so happy just to be around them. I thought I was losing you, Neil.”

 Sarah sat in silence waiting for the other man’s response, but he just ran a hand through his hair and breathed loudly.

 “Neil…” Sarah goaded.

 “You are losing me Drew.” Andrew reacted with his whole body. It was almost like he had imploded, his heart in a million pieces. Sarah saw then how much he cared about his brooding husband.

 “You are losing me… not because I have new friends, but because you refuse to move on,” Neil’s voice sounded strangled. “I know what you’ve been through, hell I was there for some of it, but I thought we could grow out of it. Together. Only you refused to let that happen.”

 “I didn’t. It’s not just like that and you know it. You of all people-“

“Yes, me of all people. I know it’s hard. But I trust you Andrew. I trusted you with my life as soon as we met and I still trust you now. But I don’t feel like you trust me .”

“Don’t say stupid things.”

“Is it stupid though? Cause I don’t feel like you trust me enough to let me decide when I’m uncomfortable, or to tell me when you are not feeling safe. Instead you just lash out. That night… Yes that man didn’t ask if he could hug me and, yes, it was awkward, but I wasn’t scared .”

 There was a silence before Neil continued to speak. “I need you to trust me Drew. I need you to know I can protect myself and that I’ll tell you when I can’t. But more than anything, I need you to understand that I love you. Scarred and glued together, just like you are.”

 Sarah was not crying cause that would be unprofessional of her.

 Session 7

 “Well, last session was very emotional. I believe you have talked about it throughout the week…” Sarah said expectantly.

The men sitting in front of her exchanged a guilty look.

“All right… Let’s talk about it now, then.” She rubbed her hands together preparing herself. “Andrew, what do you think about what Neil said, you not trusting him enough and all that?“ 

The surly blond man didn’t answer.

“Neil, have you ever expressed those feelings to Andrew before?” She tried again, but only got a shrug in response. 

  Baby steps, she thought. We’ll get there. Even if I have to kick them all the way there.

 Session 8

 Sarah waited for her 5 o’clock appointment but they didn’t show.

 Session 9

 She was starting to get worried.

 Session 10

“Hello Neil, Andrew. Nice to see you again.”

 “Hey” they answered in unison. Huh 

“So, how have you been?” Sarah said seating on a chair across from them. She couldn’t help but notice how close they sat to each other, their knees touching.

“Fi- Good,” Neil said, and then added “We talked about all the… stuff.”

“Oh I’m glad to hear that.” Sarah was irrationally scared that this was a prank. That they had teamed up to make fun of her one last time. “How are you feeling now? Andrew?“

The man looked at his hands and then up at his partner’s eyes. “I’m good.” Was that a smile on his lips?

 They explained how they finally stopped avoiding the subject and just faced it head on. Neil had already said his piece during the session, but Andrew had a lot stuck on his throat. He trusted Neil with everything except with his own well-being. “Cause lets face it, you were never good at saying how you actually felt.”  He’d said. 

“I tell you that I love you”

“But not that I’m hurting you, and that’s the thing. You need to tell me Neil. How am I supposed to trust you like that?”

 That had gone on and on until they reached an agreement. Neil would always be honest about his feelings if Andrew let him deal with things by himself. 

 “That sounds like a good deal.” 

Andrew’s huff was barely audible. 

“What was that?” Sarah asked.

“As a part of our agreement, he’s not allowed to wear knives at social gatherings anymore.”

  I don’t think anyone should be allowed that . Sarah thought as she smiled pleasantly. 

 Session 11

 “I have to admit, I was surprised when you called, Neil. Thought you’d want to be done with it.” Sarah said at the end of that session.

“Yeah, so did I,” he said as he scratched the back of his neck. “I just wanted to thank you… Guess it is good to have someone to help us see things clearer or whatever.”

“Well, I’m honored.” Sarah was quite pleased with herself. Two happy clients leaving her office holding hands, sharing secret smiles and soft kisses when they thought she wasn’t looking.

 Maybe she should have given Betsy more credit…

—

Lots of words, I know…

But if you made it here, please let me know what you think.🥰 

[gamerwoo]

Seventeen Song Series Masterlist

(m) = smut | 🌸 = fluff | ☔ = angst | 🍕 = slice of life | 🤠 = crack

DISCLAIMER: these are all seventeen fics based off of songs, not fics based off of seventeen songs. au genres and even songs not posted yet may change. these probably won’t be written in order, I’m just going to post them as I finish them.

✧༝┉┉┉┉┉˚*❋ ❋ ❋*˚┉┉┉┉┉༝✧

Take What You Want -- One Ok Rock & 5 Seconds of Summer

Can you hear me? I’m trying to hear you. Silence strikes like a hurricane. I’m singing for you. You’re screaming at me. It’s hard to see your tears in the pouring rain. (non idol au | ☔🌸)

✧༝┉┉┉┉┉˚*❋ ❋ ❋*˚┉┉┉┉┉༝✧

Hey Look Ma, I Made It -- Panic! At The Disco

Hey look ma, I made it. Everything’s coming up, aces, aces. If it’s a dream don’t wake me, don’t wake me. (rockstar au | 🌸☔)

✧༝┉┉┉┉┉˚*❋ ❋ ❋*˚┉┉┉┉┉༝✧

High Score -- Tobi Lou

But well, I’m under your spell. I wanna win you over like I’m Link and you are Zelda. (gamer/streamer au | ☔🌸)

✧༝┉┉┉┉┉˚*❋ ❋ ❋*˚┉┉┉┉┉༝✧

Killer Queen -- Queen

She’s a killer queen. Gunpowder, gelatin, dynamite with a laser beam. Guaranteed to blow your mind. (mafia au | ☔)

✧༝┉┉┉┉┉˚*❋ ❋ ❋*˚┉┉┉┉┉༝✧

Safe and Sound -- The Civil Wars

Just close your eyes, the sun is going down. You’ll be alright, no one can hurt you now. Come morning light, you and I’ll be safe and sound. (zombie apocalypse au | ☔)

✧༝┉┉┉┉┉˚*❋ ❋ ❋*˚┉┉┉┉┉༝✧

Sunflower -- Post Malone & Swae Lee

Then you’re left in the dust unless I stuck by ya. You’re a sunflower, I think your love would be too much. (idol au | 🍕🌸☔)

✧༝┉┉┉┉┉˚*❋ ❋ ❋*˚┉┉┉┉┉༝✧

The Last Of The Real Ones -- Fall Out Boy

‘Cause you’re the last of a dying breed. Write our names in the wet concrete. I wonder if your therapist knows everything about me. I’m here in search of your glory, there’s been a million before me. That ultra kind of love you never walk away from. You’re just the last of the real ones. (superhero/superhuman au | ☔🌸)

✧༝┉┉┉┉┉˚*❋ ❋ ❋*˚┉┉┉┉┉༝✧

Arms -- Christina Perri

I hope that you see right through my walls. I hope that you catch me ‘cause I’m already falling. I’ll never let a love get so close. You put your arms around me and I’m home. (idol au | 🌸☔)

✧༝┉┉┉┉┉˚*❋ ❋ ❋*˚┉┉┉┉┉༝✧

Somebody You Loved -- Lewis Capaldi

Now the day bleeds into nightfall, and you're not here to get me through it all. I let my guard down and then you pulled the rug. I was getting kinda used to being someone you loved. (idol au | ☔)

✧༝┉┉┉┉┉˚*❋ ❋ ❋*˚┉┉┉┉┉༝✧

Little Talks -- Of Monsters And Men

Don’t listen to a word I say. The screams all sound the same. Though the truth may vary, this ship will carry our bodies safe to shore. (non idol au | ☔🌸)

✧༝┉┉┉┉┉˚*❋ ❋ ❋*˚┉┉┉┉┉༝✧

Without Me -- Halsey

Tell me how’s it feel sitting up there? Feeling so high but too far away to hold me. You know I’m the one who put you up there; name in the sky. Does it ever get lonely? Thinking you could live without me. (singer/songwriter au | ☔🌸)

✧༝┉┉┉┉┉˚*❋ ❋ ❋*˚┉┉┉┉┉༝✧

Ghost Of You -- 5 Seconds of Summer

So I drown it out like I always do, dancing through our house with the ghost of you. And I chase it down with a shot of truth, that my feet don’t dance like they did with you (idol au | ☔🌸)

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Do I Wanna Know -- Arctic Monkeys

Crawling back to you. Ever thought of calling when you’ve had a few? ‘Cause I always do. Baby I’m too busy being yours to fall for somebody new. Crawling back to you. (badboy au | ☔🌸)

[adecila]

Game of Thrones – 8x04 “The Last of the Starks” episode analysis – or who the fuck ever let D&D write stuff

You know I am pretty much like this dude here –

so I will be the woman to lead this ship or so help me all the old gods and the new.

Spoilers, d’uhh.

Aftermath - but everyone has their wardrobe on fleek, hair looking fab and they even had time to clean the entire field of Winterfell

The episode starts with the funeral pyre and how DARE you make me love Jorah even more and twist the knife in my heart. And did you have to show me Theon, Beric, Edd’s and Lyanna’s bodies??? 

RUDE.

Jon is doing a big speech and it is nice and drove the sobbing further, but I get it this is Jon’s turf so he has to be the one making the big speech. That is such a Dany thing though, and I can’t help to think, when put into perspective with the rest of the episode, that it’s yet again a thing Dany has lost. But more on that later. 

The pyres are lit, sad music, more sobbing from me. OOOPS BUT DID YOU CATCH THAT JONERYS EXCHANGE OF LOOKS? Because I did! I can’t help but think how he looks at her for reassurance and she feels it and she turns and she is just.so.broken. And then she cries and I cry again. 

A feast for crows the survivors 

And then we get a feast and suddenly everyone is happy and stuff… ok, I guess life goes on. Maybe Sandor’s crass remark, under the guise of a funny moment, was meant to make us think on it. But maybe that’s too deep for D&D who the fuck knows. 

Let’s talk about Gendry’s legitimisation. 

Dany does it quite publicly, and small exchange between her and Tyrion makes sense. Honestly, if she hadn’t done it herself then and there, it would have come up at a later point, but with 2 episodes left there’s no time. S.ansa does her shady looks because she throws shade and Bran just stares into the void smh. 

In which I am the Hound unimpressed and eating his chicken. 

Davos x Tyrion

The Lord of Light fucked off into the sunset when he saw D&D’s piss poor writing and honestly same. He probably fucked off when he saw Melisandre was still getting his prophecies wrong. 

Every time S.ansa comes into frame my soul leaves my body a bit more because whY THO. 

Tyrion x Bran the 3ER

Cool beans Bran, that’s how you use you abilities? OMG JOJEN FUCKING DIED FOR YOU–

“I mostly live in the past now” - to me this means Bran has become this empty shell of a man and he just visits the past and checks out cool shit. It’s like a kid who gets access to YouTube for the first time. Heck he can even see his dad or whoever else he misses if he feels anything at all now. Because if he doesn’t even have “wants” then? What was the point of it all? God I swear the writers will not rest until they will have reduced all characters to tropes and empty shells of their former selves.

Tormund and the gang around Jon; Tyrion with Jaime ; Dany alone

This scene right here was the beginning of the end. Remember when Tormund was a dude who was in awe by strong women? D&D don’t. He suddenly is so far up Jon’s ass nothing could take him out. Guess it pays off for him in the end since Jon just gifts him Ghost.

S.ansa just fucking stop OMG PLEASE STOP WITH THE FUCKING LOOKS JFC.

But where was Missandei??? Why was Dany alone? And what the fuck was that look, VArYs?? Someone give Dany a hug because my god the isolation is real. Fuck. STOP. TAKING. EVERYTHING. FROM HER.

Never have I ever… thought the writers would stoop so low but here we are

So it’s all fun and games until it isn’t. 

Poor Tormund. Jaime never deserved Brienne and that’s a fact. 

And the mystery of Willa, the sassy Northern girl has been solved! Bless!!!

SanSan, but with more misogynistic undertones than you ever thought

Yeah you know what, I am not touching this scene. Fuck D&D for daring to say that.

Gendrya - or the moment Gendry decided to pull a Ted Mosby 

I feel so bad OMG they did this ship so dirty. However. Arya saying that was expected. But I call bullshit on her never rethinking her decision. Girl’s got a list and she just can’t NOT try to finish it, I mean, wouldn’t you? After you killed such a big boss as the NK? 

At the same time, they would be trying for faux feminism, pulling a Arya doesn’t need a man to be happy. Guess the sex was just to try it? Wow can you believe they cheapened this ship and that beautiful moment like that? 

I’m so sorry babies, you deserved much better. Guess Gendry was always meant to have his heart broken by a Stark girl once he became a Baratheon. Wow. 

Weirdly enough!!! And spoiler maybe?? Leak? Idk. But I feel like Gendrya will prevail (also because she looks heartbroken to reject him like that…). When asked if Gendrya will rule the 7K, Friki said no, these two aren’t made for ruling anything. For what’s worth, Friki mentioned he does know Arya’s endgame and shebis confirmed alive in the Dragon Pit in 8x06 :)

Oathsex

Uff yeah I did not like that. It felt wrong in the context and it felt cheap and I…. yeah IDK. And then Jaime leaves. He could have at least told Brienne that he is he only one who can kill Cersei or IDK, but not leave her like that. Jeesh dude my poor Knight, she is gutted by him. 

Jonerys makeout and chat and hey who wanted angst? Turn on your location I just wanna chat. 

Sooo flip side: I somehow, for the second time, predicted a thing in my fic. HOWEVER D&D keep only getting half my fics because GURL DID YOU NOT GET THE SMUT MEMO? AND THE FLUFF MEMO?

So Dany goes to find Jon, again, who is tipsy, and Jon suddenly remembers to give Dany some comfort for having lost Jorah… 

The set up for Dany saying ILY it’s a bit .. ehh. But her actual words: “He loved me, but I couldn’t love him back, not the way he wanted it. Not the way I love you. Is that alright?” 

A+ scene. I love how he can’t help himself and as soon as she is in his arms’ range he just pulls her into him, BEFORE she asks “Is that alright?”. 

Uff emo side note here, this scene and this phrase reminded me of this song. Listen and sob. you’re welcome.

On that depressive note, wow that make out tho. Two things I learned from this scene: 1 - Jon is horny drunk, which same; and 2 - Jon is a tiddies guy like he dove in and went for the tiddies, which also same. Am I Jon? Is this why I keep guessing his fucking reactions but D&D won’t give me the rest????? We’ll never know.

And… then Jon stops and pulls back. And I KNOW that in the BTS we are told he is disgusted or whatever along those lines, but to me?? That look means he is CONFLICTED. And listen, if y’all wanted it to make it to mean "disgusted" then you should have made Kit do it differently since YOU KNOW HE WAS FAKE GAGGING TO EMILIA EVERY OTHER MINUTE. YOU CAN’T KEEP ADDING SHIT LATER YOU FUCKING DUMBASSES YOU EITHER PUT IT IN THE ACTUAL  SHOW AND THE ACTUAL ACTING OR STFU.

But I guess to me that rejection was more for the general audience than for us. C’mon he clearly loves her, his dick was so hard he was about to nut then and there. Stop bringing your 21st century considerations into a feudalistic fantasy where you have Royals and dragons. Also FUCK YOU VARYS BECAUSE EVEN IN THE NORTH AUNT AND NEPHEW MARRIED SO FUCK YOU BALDIE.

I digress. Then Dany echoes what Jon himself thinks/said - wishing she would have never known. And then we get something that I felt when she was alone and sad at the feast. “I saw the way they looked at you. I know that look; the same way people looked at me, but never on this side of the sea” - yeah so I need a break.

This here - cemented for me what I think the show is doing: stripping everything away from Dany: her armies, her children, her people and the love her people have for her… then Jon. And I don’t mean that as in the sense of some bullshit fleak. No, I mean it in the context of this episode. Because Jon never says I love you back (and maybe @normalisjustafairytale is right and Jon is afraid to say it after Ygritte), and he rejects her, and he says he can’t NOT tell his sisters, even if Dany begs him not to. So in a sense, for now at least, Jon is being taken away from her. So you have all this isolation and losing and losing and then what does she have left? The only constant in her life? The fucking Iron Throne. Because at the moment there is nothing else for her and she probably feels like she will be nothing without it. Hence why she presses to go and take Cersei down. I won’t lie to you, it is cheap writing and very lame and honestly I have read fics a million times better than this bullshit, but they will, at one point, hit us with the boatie reveal, and when that happens, and when Jon fucking finally pulls through and stands by her side, she will have something else, a different constant in life. Moreover, because she realises that the people here in Westeros will never love her, she will have even more of a reason to bow out, say a big fuck you, take her boatie and her hubs and get to her house with the red door. 

This is not just wishful thinking, it is very much D&D, and they will of course “humble the powerful woman” (I puked in my mouth by writing that). But also, my consolation is that with this episode, heck even the people who weren’t necessarily her fans, are on her side and asking her to burn KL down. Which I don’t think she would, but more on that in a different post. God this post is already long.

*bathroom break*

BAck. Then Dany echoes what I also said in my fic ugh I hate myself what we all know and are thinking: it doesn’t matter if Jon doesn’t want it; it matter that there are people out there (fucking S.ansa jfc this fucking UGGHDGugduzdahidfg) who don’t like Dany and will support Jon immediately over her. She is right and he is stupid for not seeing it. 

I guess I also got my bending the knee from my fic. Kinda. FUCK.ME.

I cannot believe that my Queen had to BEG him and Jon had to be so naive. BOY DID YOU NOT UNDERSTAND THE LESSON FROM YOUR FATHER? Two can keep a secret is one of them is dead, Jonno. Did you not watch Pretty Little Liars??? Why the fuck do you think Ned Stark didn’t tell his wife?? LMAO she would have sold him just like S.asnsa blabbed on you, guess the J___sas were right, it was a bit of a Ned x Cat parallel, probably Cat would have sold Ned also in a fucking instant. Dany is absolutely right. This shit cannot be contained because you don’t know how people would react to it. 

“She’s not the girl you grew up with” … BOOM.

I love how he cradles her face into his hands MY FUCKING HEART MY HEART.

Pause. The part where she begs remind me of this traumatic moment:

… fuuuuck. Anyway.

And I love how she turns the tables on him. But Jon… is still Jon for plot reasons I guess. Maybe he didn’t understand why Ned had to keep the secret for so many years. 

The end of the Northern plot - BYE NO ONE WILL MISS YOU

The Starks can choke. They are cancelled. 

Yeah no. Bye. Fuck S.ansa or Sandra, who the fuck this OOC shitty ass character is. Fuck every single one of them. Wow, emotional manipulation at its finest. I just love how they basically called this episode the last of the Starks because they just character assassinated all of them. Edit: LMAO you know what this is? The shitty family that pulls over one member and tries to break him up with his wife, for the sole reason they don't like her. Because fuck their brother's happiness. Because they are fucking selfish people.  

Jaime x Tyrion x my headache

Let’s add to the list of cancelled people Jaime and Tyrion just for that fucking chat.

“I will pay you double” ex machina, and that’s how the Bronn issue is solved. Just as Friki said, btw. 

Arya x The Hound

So I guess Arya just fucking lies through her teeth now smh, since she was guilt trippig JON JUST MOMENTS AGO and she just up and leaves BECAUSE FUCK FAMILY I GUESS 

Tyrion is suddenly afraid of Dany so I guess we are supposed to excuse Sandra’s petty shady jealous ass 

Sandra is fucking jealous and insane. Littlefinger will be proud. Her face though. This fucking bitch doesn’t like that he is a Targaryen LMFAO she is scheming so hard bahahahahah

She is fucking cancelled. They murdered her character the moment they took her out of the Vale. FIGHT ME ON THIS I FUCKING DARE YOU.

Jon x Tormund x Ghost - say your goodbyes

Hey hey hey so that line where Jon belongs in the North? The real North, which for Tormund is North of the Wall since he calls Winterfell the South? Guess where those waterfalls from 8x01 are?

Jon is the worst dog owner KILL ME.

Fucking Sam Tarly

Jon was like yeah no don’t name your kid after me. Interesting how he could tell from a hug that Gilly was pregnant. Hope Dany starts showing soon *wink wink boatie is still coming*

The IT or Southern plot

Tyrion x Varys

I cannot wait for Varys to die. Like, he is spewing inaccurate information and then, he is suddenly against Dany and suddenly only Jon is a war hero. Just because he has a dick. Fuck D&D and their sexist asses Also VArys keeps talking about the realm LMAO YOU KNOW WHAT I SEE? I see kings dying all around you, and the only constant it’s you. Who is the problem, I wonder? 

Euron ex machina

Makes no fucking sense. But I guess nobody cares anymore.

Yeah I screamed when Rhaegal died. And I screamed again with Dany.

I guess Dany couldn’t just fly behind Euron’s ship and roast them all for plot reasons. 

Dragonstone mess

Fuck you, Varys. And fuck you, Tyrion. Not you, Greyworm, ILY *hugs tightly*

BONUS: FUCK YOU JAIME FUUUUUCK YOU FOR LEAVING BRIENNE LIKE THAT. BYE BITCH GOOD RIDDANCE.

King’s Landing mess & the shitty ass parley that even Captain Sparrow could have organised better

Ew how much time has it passed since Cersei is already claiming to be preggers? 

“So much for the breaker of chains” - is again, a sign they are trying to strip Dany of everything she has and is. 

Tyrion and Qyburn - ew, but also Qyburn has a point, why would Cersei surrender? Oh and I think the point to save Rhaegal from the NK only for him to die at the hands of Euron is to further handicap Dany and make the Cersei threat real, and have a reason to keep Drogon away from KL - HAVE YOU ALL SEEN THE SCORPIONS EVERYWHERE?

Ugh Tyrion stop trying to get Cersei to love you LMFAO she doesn’t. But I know, it is hard to break from toxic relationships and abusers. Tyrion told Cersei “you are not a monster” and she literally went “HOLD MY BEER”.

Missandei’s death made me sick to my stomach and traumatised me for life. We should all collectively agree to NEVER give D&D our attention again and never let them write anything again. 

Missandei hatefully spewing DRACARYS as her last words was so strong it made me start crying because holy shit this was a peaceful person, and for her to show this much hate and rage was so gutting…  fuck me. I am crying again. I think she also meant, besides from the obvious, “there is no reasoning with these people, so why bother. Might as well blow it the fuck up.”

And Grey’s reaction wow - again, I was about to puke, despite the scene not being the most gorey on GoT, but it was so intrinsically and viscerally wrong my mind could not deal. 

In conclusion

Poor Dany, she has lost everything. EVERYTHING. She is literally at her lowest. After the discussion with Jon, she slipped back the Queen mask - like you can pinpoint the moment she does so! And she keeps it on in front of everyone else but her dragons.

I am expecting a very very cold (but very fragile inside) Dany in 8x05. I am expecting her to push Jon away. Oh and at the ending of 8x04 she totally just gets up on Drogon and goes back to Dragonstone. No way she does anything yet so soon.

I haven’t watched any of the BTS and Making of videos, nor have I watched the 8x05 promo. Will do soon.

Stay strong, jonerys is still going strong. I am here until the very end and I still think this will end with jonerys together. Will it be good writing? Nope. But it will end well. As I keep saying. We’re missing the “sweet” in this fucking “bittersweet” shit show. Stop saying it ends badly because of 8x03.

If you need me, you know where to find me. Image of me in the fandom. Except I charge nothing.

Oh and PS: FUCK D&D.

[vanfics]

003 - The Balance (Request)

A/N: Hi everyone! First of all, I’m very excited to share this fic with you because this is my first request! I feel honoured and very nervous too. Dear anon, hope you like it and thank you so much for trusting me to write this. To everyone, let me know what do you think about it, if you want I would love a feedback. Thank you so much for reading my stories and everything. Oh almost forgot, do you prefer the titles with more description? Or something like a summary? Please let me know. Again, thanks for reading! X

Bassed on:

Hello! Would I be able to request a fic where "y/n" is a musician as well who's dating Van, but you find out you're pregnant and while you and him are excited to be parents, you guys have to hide it from fans, etc.? Thank you! x

You were waiting at backstage for your turn to play at a big festival on UK. It wasn’t the first time you had to do it with your band, a few years ago you played earlier for a small crowd. This time it was different. Your band was getting bigger, and the fan base had grown up fast. You were nervous, as always. For you, playing shows was a mix of fear and joy.

The adrenaline ran on your veins since you woke up that morning and you went directly to the bath of the hotel room to throw up. You supposed you were just nervous, and didn’t say anything to the rest of the band or your manager, not even Van who was playing there too with his band. But as the hours passed, you weren’t feeling much better, and he noticed it.

“Babe, are you okay? You look pale, more than usual” Van asked taking a sit beside you at the sofa that the production had putted on the big tent for the bands.

“I feel a little sick but I’m fine” you replied, lying. You felt like shit.

The sickness made you feel dizzy. You stood up and went directly to the closest bathroom, of course it was occupied. The room was full of people. There was a trash can close to the restrooms, and without thinking you put your head on in and let go all your breakfast and the banana you ate a few minutes earlier. Van stood up and ran towards where you were; he took your hair and put it on a messy bun.

“Y/N, this isn’t fine” he imitated your voice.

“I’m okay, just nervous I guess.”

You still felt like shit during the entire performance and even after the show. When you came back to the backstage Van was waiting for you with a worried face. Your acting failed with him, he could read your mind and see though your soul.  He hugged you and whispered on your ear how fantastic you were and how proud he was of you. Out of the blue, you started crying. His words made you emotional, he said things like that all the time, but in that occasion you were more sensitive than usual. He wiped out your tears and kissed the top of your nose. You smiled at him, trying to convince him, and yourself, that you were fine.

///

The next morning you woke up suddenly, got out of the bed quickly and went directly to the bathroom to puke again. You felt your whole body weak. You rested your arms on the toilet, thinking about what it could be. It was unusual; waking up feeling sick two days in a row, you never felt something like that. This time Van woke up and went to check on you.

"Babe, are you okay?" he asked with his morning voice "can I come in?"

"Yeah" you murmured not sure if Van heard that but he opened the door slowly, anyways.

"What's wrong?" He sounded worried.

"Dunno, I feel like shit again" you voice was almost inaudible.

Van went on his knees at you side and put one of his hands on your forehead to check your temperature. It was normal. You didn't have fever, at least. He insisted to call a doctor, he said it wasn’t normal, and you couldn’t use the nerves as an excuse. You refused, doctors always scared you. That was your free day; you weren’t playing at the festival, or doing any interviews for promo. You convinced him that all you needed was to stay in bed and rest, maybe you were stressed or tired.

"Okay, so... can I help with something, some pills, water?" he looked at you with a frown.

"No, no, I'm fine" just the thought of swallowing anything made you want to vomit again.

He touched your back, trying to bring you comfort while you closed your eyes and took some deep breaths. After a few moments, he helped you to get up on your feet again and watched you in silence while you washed your teeth and your face, then he guided you back on the bed and wrapped you with the blankets.

"Thanks" you murmured closing your eyes, again.

Van pressed his warm lips on your forehead, softly and whispered "I love you" on your left ear.

///

The sound of the magnetic card opening the door woke you up, again. Van’s head appeared floating between the frame and the door, making a weird facial expression with his mouth.

“Sorry, did I wake you?” he said in a low tone.

“Yeah, but it's fine” you moved slowly and sat on your side of the bed, trying to incorporate yourself on the real world.

“How you feeling?” he asked entering the room without closing the door, just walking in your direction and taking a sit on the edge of the bed, right by your side. He left a plastic bag on your bedside table and touched your leg above the blankets; his eyes scanned your face, trying to decode your state, still with a worried look.

“Better, I think” you said, honestly.

“Do you want me to call a doctor, now?”

“No, no it’s fine, maybe it was something I ate, food poison.”

“Y/N, we ate the same food and I feel completely fine.” he had a point, you thought.

“Then maybe it’s a virus, I don’t know, but I’m feeling better, really” you smiled, touching his left cheek with your right hand. He ran his fingers through his hair; he did that when he was nervous about something.

“Van, I’m fine. Can you relax? You look more stressed than me and I’m the one who is feeling like crap” you tried to calm him but you did the opposite.

“See? You said it! You feel like crap, stop acting like you’re okay, Y/N” he wasn’t yelling at you but his voice sounded an inch higher, he used that tone when he was stressed about something, and it was rare on him. He usually was the one who stayed calm.

“Okay, if I puke again, then we’ll call a doctor, I promise” you offered him a truce.

“Alright” he sighed “you scared the shit out of me.”

“I’m sorry” you said quietly. Van gave you a weak smile, but he kept his worried expression. You moved and pecked the top of his nose. “I love you” you confessed for the million time.

“I love you, too” he replied taking a deep breath “are you hungry? Wanna eat something?” he asked.

“Hmm yeah a bit, what time is it?”

“5pm, you slept all day, sleeping beauty” he joked, he was in his ‘happy puppy’ mood, like you used to say, again.

“Really? Fuck, I was knockout”

“Yeah, completely passed out” he agreed.

He called the room service and ordered the healthiest meal that they had. You rolled your eyes at how he was over protecting you; and grabbed the bag. It was full of supplies for sick people, a bottle of Gatorade, two of Evian water, a box of lemon tea, many different pills that you never heard about, and a pregnancy test. Van hanged up the phone and gave you his attention again. You looked like you have seen a ghost.

“Just in case” he clarified, lifting his shoulders.

“Do you think it’s...” you didn’t need to finish the sentence, Van already knew what you talking about.

“Dunno, maybe?” he replied, biting his lower lip “it’s a possibility, right?” he couldn’t help but gave you a wide smile.

Van always wanted to have kids, since you met him a few years ago he talked openly about wanting to have a family of his own, buy a house, getting married, having children, all the stuff. When you started dating it was something that you both discussed many times. The first big step was moving together, and it went great. The second thing was getting married; he didn’t propose you officially but gave you the necklace his father gave to his mom when they got married. It was a tradition, when he came to this world his mom gave it to him. He would do the same with the love of his life and his future kids.

You wanted all that too, he was the love of your life, every time you saw Van around children your heart melded and couldn’t help to think about having your own kids. He would be a great father, for sure. But on the other hand, you both had a very special, atypical and complicated lifestyle for including all those things on your plans. Both bands were getting bigger, playing at big venues for many people, all over the world. You both had a huge amount of loyal fans expecting new material, new tour dates, and you didn’t knew if you would be able to handle everything at the same time.

You put the small box inside the plastic bag again and took the bottle of water instead, trying to focus on something else. Van didn’t say anything about it, just switched on the TV and moved right next to you on the bed, with one arm open for you to cuddle by his side, as you always did.

///

You've bitten your thumbnail and bounced your leg sitting on the edge of the bathtub for a few minutes, waiting for the results of the pregnancy test. Everything was quiet, you were alone, Van was already sleeping but you couldn’t. Searching on your phone the symptoms wasn’t the best idea you ever had. It could be anything, a simple flu, a baby, or even cancer. The thoughts were running on your mind. You were tired of looking at the ceiling in the dark. You need to know if you were pregnant or not, at least.

The tiny object was burning on your fingers. You didn’t want to see it alone but you didn’t want to wake up Van and giving him high hopes, if the result was negative he would be devastated, you knew how excited he was, even if he tried to act like it wasn’t a big deal. But if it was positive, you wanted to share that moment with him.

You didn’t have to choose, a few knocks on the door told you that Van was already woken.

“Love? Are you sick again?” he sounded really concerned.

You didn’t answer so he opened the door, slowly. He stood up in front of you and looked to the tiny object on the sink; you put it with the screen down so he didn’t saw the result either.

“You did it” he said, gasping.

“Yeah” you replied contemplating his face.

“What does it say?” Van was pale as a ghost, more than usual.

“I- I don’t know, I didn’t check it yet” you sounded terrified, and you were.

“Do you think you’re- do you think it’s positive?” he asked, gulping his own saliva.

“Maybe, there’s a chance...”

A few months before, when you and Van were on a break from touring with your bands, you started trying to get pregnant but it didn’t worked. You went to doctors and all the results of your analysis were fine, they didn’t find anything bad, yet. But the world kept moving, and you both had to come back to your crazy lives, so you stopped trying and drop the subject. ‘Everything happens for a reason’ you said to yourself.

A couple weeks ago, it was your anniversary and you celebrated it taking a bath together, drinking champagne with candles all over the place, the lust and passion made you a bit reckless and didn’t use protection. You haven’t thought about it so much, until that moment.

“Do you want me to leave you alone?” he said, unsure of what you needed.

“No, no please, stay...” you replied immediately “let’s find out what it says together.”

You took the test and put it on one of his hands, and then you closed it with your palm against his knuckles while your eyes were connected with his. You wanted to tell Van how much you loved him and that he was the love of your life, forever, but no words came out of your mouth. He pressed his lips on yours, hard, and took the back of your neck with his free hand. You opened your mouth to kiss him properly, with desperation.

“I love you so much” you whispered, without oxygen on your lungs.

“I love you too” he replied “whatever it says, or whatever you want to do, whatever happens, I’m here, okay? I support you...” you nodded feeling the tears on your face.

You’ve never been more nervous in your entire life. Your heart was beating so fast, your hands shaking. You thought you will faint right there if you didn’t check soon what the result said.

“Alright” you said letting go Van’s hand. He opened slowly, he was shaking too.

You both looked at the small sign. Positive. You looked up to see Van’s reaction. His eyes were bigger than you ever seen before. His mouth opened but no sound came out. He was waiting for your reaction, or he was in shook.

You smiled and kissed him with your arms around his neck and your body pressed to his. He held you with force. You took a step back to look at his face again.

“We’re having a baby” you said, breaking in tears of happiness.

Van let go a laugh and a few tears too. His nose was red as his lips. He gave you a peck on your lips, without saying anything yet. Van was speechless for the first time in his entire life.

“We’re having a baby” he repeated touching one of your cheeks with the palm of his hand. “Are you sure? Do you want to have it?” he asked, and the colour of his face ran away.

You didn’t doubt it for a second. You were absolutely sure that you wanted a family with him.

“I’m fucking scared but yeah, I want to-” your voice broke “I want to have a family with you.”

Both cried and laughed at the same time, and kissed and hugged many times. Then he guided you back to the dorm and both went to bed. Van opened one arm and you moved your body close to his, laying your head on his shoulder.

///

The next few months were the most chaotic of your entire life, the tour-life didn’t compare to the changes you felt internally on your body and on your life in general. The morning sickness kept appearing, it was definitely the worst part. The best part was seeing your belly growing, faster than you and Van imagined. He was more excited than you about that. Another thing that you loved was seeing him while he touched your stomach, and talked or sang to the baby. It was weird but lovely. You never felt more happier.

Your band mates and ‘the Catfish family’ were very supportive and excited, too. They always made jokes about which instrument the baby was going to learn to play first, and who was going to be the favourite band member of the creature. You loved to see them discuss it as if was the middle East conflict.

But at the same time many thoughts were floating inside your mind. One of them was how were you going to tell the news to the fans. You were very shy and liked to keep your personal life in private. Van was like that too, but he was more transparent than you. He wore his heart on his sleeve all the time, without even noticing it, he couldn’t help it. You loved that. It was one of the things that you more loved and admired about him, but for the first time you felt like it was an inconvenient.

“Van” you said as you stopped singing a new song you’ve been working on.

He rolled his head on the couch he was sitting on in the music studio of your house. Van had built it as soon as you confirmed your pregnancy. You both always dreamed about it, and with a baby coming, it was the perfect excuse to keep working on your music while you were staying home. That was what kept you sane. You needed something different to focus your mind.

“Hmm?” he emitted a weird sound.

“How do you think that we should keep... this?” you pointed your belly behind the acoustic guitar you were holding.

“What do you mean?” he frowned, confused.

“I mean, I don’t know how we should communicate the news. People are starting to ask questions” you said, worried.

The fans were already talking online, making assumptions, after you made some public appearances wearing oversized clothes, not rare on you, you used to wear Van’s clothes all the time, but your figure was changing inside of them. Some people thought that you were getting weight, it was true. Others commented directly on your social media if you were pregnant. That was what freaked you out. You didn’t know how to handle all that attention.

“Fuck it if they talk” he sang, he was quoting one of his own song lyrics.

“I’m serious” you said, trying not to laugh about his stupid joke.

“Dunno, they’ll find out, eventually” he seemed so relaxed. “We can make an official statement like the celebs, you know? Like Beyoncé’s” you laughed “or we can keep it simple and if someone asks us, we confirmed it.”

“I don’t want to make a big deal about it, I don’t like being the centre of attention, like you” he rolled his eyes but he knew it was true, he was a Leo, of course he loved it “but I don’t want to anyone make money or take advantage of our baby.”

“I won’t let that happen, love. I’ll demand The Sun if it’s necessary.” You laughed, but that wasn’t the only thought on your mind. You touched your belly, thinking how the fans would react to the news.

“And what about the fans?” you gulped your own saliva.

“What about ‘em?” he asked really unconscious of all the bad things that ran on your mind.

“What if they get upset about me having a baby and taking a break from touring and stuff, what if they hate me for you know having a child with... you.” He moved to rest his head on your legs, and you started playing with his hair. “You act like it’s not a big deal but there are many girls out there dreaming about carrying all of your children and call them stupid shit” you sang Hourglass, one of his most famous songs. It was your turn for stupid jokes. He laughed like a madman.

“Are you serious, Y/N?” he said when he noted that behind your humor was your real concern.

“Yeah, I’m worry about all that”

“Oh c’mon, love. It’s gonna be okay. I promise” he sounded so sure of it that you relaxed a little “You’re over thinking and it’s not good for you or you both...” he touched your stomach and kissed it quickly. He was right, you were overthinking and overreacting. “We are in this together, I’ll take care of you and our mini-Van” he already had chosen a nickname.

“The fans will wait, they love you. If Beyoncé’s has done it, you can.” Another reference to your biggest idol, he knew how to calm your nerves with a stupid joke “And about my fans... well, they’ll get over it” He hushed his shoulders, “’sides, I’m making tons of new songs that they gonna to love it, just keepin’ ’em fed well, y’know?” he recorporated himself on the couch and gave you a kiss on your forehead when you rested your head on his shoulder, taking a deep breath.

He made everything looks so simple; you admired his capacity to be relaxed all the time about stuff that freaked you out. It was the perfect balance between your personalities.

You didn’t know how you were going to deal with pregnancy for the next few months, or how hard it would be to keep doing what you loved and carrying a child at the same time, or even how you would tell the world about it. But you knew one thing for sure, with Van by your side; everything was going to be alright.

[sholiofic]

Er. So. First of all, I posted a de-aging fic for Danny a little while back, in which Danny is five years old but still has his adult memories (with all the trauma THAT implies). In the comments, @asofterhibou​ suggested de-aged Ward. Well, specifically:

I had the horrifying thought of what if Ward was the five-year-old the next day, but that is almost TOO heart-breaking. Like I can only imagine that the first half hour is just Ward curled up in a ball under the hotel room bed while Danny lies on the floor and talks quietly to him to get him to come out.

I swear I was just going to write a couple paragraphs of this, and then suddenly there was like 1900 words of it. (I’m not really sure if this is canon relative to the other fic; it’s more like a what-if spun off from it.)

Seeing Ward as a small child was almost too strange. Danny didn't remember him like this at all. Their five-year age difference had loomed impossibly huge in their shared childhood; his earliest memories of Ward were of the other boy being so much bigger that he might as well have been a grown-up, a source of both torment and protection, fear and comfort. Danny had been scared of him and admired him in equal measure.

It was an extremely disconcerting perspective shift to suddenly be the bigger one, the older one; it was hard to see Ward as a little kid and not see a ghost of the adult Ward superimposed over it, like looking at childhood photos of your parents.

Not that Danny had seen much of him yet, since Ward had been curled up under the bed for most of the last hour. He wasn't crying -- in a way, Danny thought it would have been less worrying if he was crying. At least it would have been more normal five-year-old behavior. Instead he was just curled up shivering. Ward's adult memories weren't something that Danny would wish on his worst enemy, let alone on a little kid.

Danny had given up on talking (much) and just decided to lie on the carpet next to the bed, with one hand stretched out underneath it and his hand on Ward's pointy little shoulder.

"You want to come out and have something to eat?" he asked. "There's a place down the street that has desserts and stuff. Ice cream. You wanna go have ice cream?"

Ward shook his head. Okay, Danny thought, a five-year-old turning down ice cream was a really bad sign.

He rolled over on his side and discovered that Ward was watching him, a flash of light-colored eyes in the darkness under the bed. Was Ward scared of him? he wondered. 

There was no Hell in the Buddhist afterlife, and Danny wasn’t even sure what his own religious beliefs were exactly anyway (it was sort of a mishmash of all the various cultural influences in his life), but if reincarnation and karma actually did exist, he hoped Harold was currently reincarnating as an endless series of mosquitoes and getting smashed every single time. A few thousand years of that ought to be about right. After that, maybe Harold could graduate to rice weevils or something, and work his way up from there for the next few million years.

"I can also call down to the front desk and have them bring ice cream to our room," Danny said, pillowing his cheek on his arm. "There won't be as many choices, but I bet I could have some vanilla ice cream brought up. Vanilla with chocolate sprinkles, that was your favorite, right?"

He just wanted to drag Ward out from under the bed and hug the stuffing out of him, but he also knew that would be the worst thing he could possibly do. A Harold kind of thing to do ... well, minus the hugging, probably. The only thing he could do was try to show Ward that he wasn't that kind of adult.

"So I'm gonna go do that, okay? I'm just going over to the phone."

He made the call sitting on the floor where Ward could see him. He wasn't sure whether that actually was important, but it felt important. After that, Danny lay on the carpet again.

"Hey, Ward, do you want to see a picture of your sister?"

He thumbed through pictures on his phone until he found one of Joy. He didn't have very many of her due to ... well ... circumstances, but he did have a couple from last year, during that ever-so-brief period when they'd been speaking to each other and it had seemed, for awhile, that things were going to be okay.

"She's just a baby for you now, right? This is what she looks like when she grows up."

He turned the phone screen so Ward could see it. After a little while, Ward uncoiled somewhat and scootched over so he could see the screen better.

"Here's another," Danny said, flipping to a new one. This was Joy at her desk at Rand, giving him an exasperated look as he'd peeked into her office to take a quick picture of her to use as his phone photo for her. (He'd just discovered that you could set a picture to go with someone's phone number in a smartphone address book. He remembered being delighted about that.)

In a very tiny voice, not much more than a whisper, Ward asked, "Do you have any pictures of me?"

"Sure I do." Lots more than Joy, fortunately. Danny flicked to the recent ones. "Here, you're in most of these." Generally either ignoring him, or giving the camera (and by extension, Danny) assorted variations on his sardonic "why me?" expression while Danny took pictures of temples and markets and parks that also just happened to have Ward in them.

There was a knock at the door. Ward retreated back under the bed. "It's just the hotel people bringing us our ice cream," Danny said, and he passed the phone under the bed where Ward could keep looking through photos while he went to answer it.

He had to hand it to the hotel's restaurant: they'd done a nice job. Danny came back with two glass bowls, each with a heaping scoop of vanilla ice cream topped with chocolate shavings and a strawberry on each one. He set one down on the carpet and held the other. "It's gonna melt," he said, dipping his spoon into his. "I can put yours in the room fridge if you want it later instead."

There was a short hesitation and then Ward cautiously crawled out from under the bed, with the phone clutched in one of his hands. "That's me?" he said dubiously, showing the screen to Danny.

Danny was aware that he had no particular talent for photography, so it was a little bit off center and crooked, but it was actually a nice picture of Ward, sitting on a low stone wall with a sweeping vista of gardens and jungle behind him and a sketchbook in his lap.

"Yeah," Danny said, grinning at him. "That's you."

"I'm drawing?" Ward said, and frowned. "I'm drawing," he said again, thinking his way through it.

Danny remembered that part of what this was like: everything was overwhelming, and you got the most intense memories first and hardest (which had to be part of what was giving Ward such a rough time). But putting things in order or remembering anything specific was the hard part.

"Yeah! You like to draw. You're really good at it, too. Here, I'll show you."

He hopped up and got the sketchbook, which was stuck in the top of Ward's luggage, where it usually was. Danny also got out a box of Ward’s colored pencils. He figured it was Ward's sketchbook and Ward had an equal right to draw in it when he was five as he did when he was thirty.

When he came back, Ward had the enormous bowl of ice cream in his lap and a spoon stuffed in his mouth. He glared at Danny as if daring him to make something out of it.

It was really weird how much like his adult self he still was at this age. In a way, Danny thought, that was probably what had gotten him through all those years of Harold's abuse. Ward had a rock-solid core of, well, of Ward: prickly and angry and sarcastic and stubborn. It made him a real dick sometimes, and it certainly had when they were kids, but it had also kept him from being completely steamrolled by Harold, over the years. Danny felt a sudden intense wash of ... just, feelings: love and admiration and the intense desire to kick Harold's ass around the astral plane for awhile. Luckily Ward was looking at the sketchbook rather than at Danny's face, because hiding his feelings was something Danny really wasn't good at.

"See, here," Danny said, opening the sketchbook up randomly to a drawing of a temple carving. "You're really good at this. Here you go." He put the pencils next to it. "You can draw in it, if you want."

Ward touched the page hesitantly, then jerked his hand away when he noticed he'd left a smear of melted chocolate on the drawing. "I'll mess it up," he said in a voice that sounded small and fragile.

"No, you won't. It's yours. Anyway, it's already gotten wet and had coffee spilled on it and got trampled by a bunch of goats in Cambodia." Danny flipped to a fresh page and showed Ward a coffee ring on top of a half-finished sketch of Danny. "See? You can't do anything bad to it."

Ward shoved the spoon into his mouth, and said around it, indistinctly, "I'm bad at it. Dad said --"

"Your dad's not here," Danny said, more fiercely than he intended, and Ward quailed from the anger in his voice. Damn it. He gentled his tone down and got himself under control. It turned out that dealing with a traumatized five-year-old was better training at emotional control than anything the elders in K'un-Lun had ever come up with. "Look," he said gently. "You're awesome at it. At least, I think so, and I'm the only adult around here, so I must be right. Right?"

Ward looked like he was extremely doubtful about this logic, but he also had the ice cream spoon in his mouth again.

Danny flipped the sketchbook to a blank page and shook out the box of pencils in a heap next to it, noticing Ward's eyes following them covetously. Then he dug into his own bowl of ice cream.

After a little while, with the ice cream in his bowl mostly gone, Ward picked up a pencil.

Danny leaned back against the side of the bed and pretended to be interested in his ice cream and only his ice cream, and not at all in the slow relaxing of Ward's rigid little body as he got interested in the drawing. It worked that way for adult Ward as well, which had given Danny an extremely unpleasant (but plausible) theory that Harold had made him stop because it was something that made him happy that Harold didn't have control over; it was something that Harold could neither understand nor use to control him, and therefore it had to go.

Danny clenched the fist that had once been the Iron Fist until the metal handle of the ice cream spoon actually bent. Carefully, he pried his fingers off it and flexed his hand until the purplish imprint of the spoon handle had faded, and then went back to eating.

When he'd finished his ice cream, Danny picked up his phone and pretended to be absorbed in it, while keeping a subtle eye on Ward, who was now completely absorbed in his drawing.

And a little while after that, without saying anything, Ward picked up the sketchbook and his pencils, and crawled into Danny's lap, and spread the sketchbook on the floor and -- sprawling half in and half out of Danny’s lap -- went back to drawing in it.