#but we haven’t seen each other in 4 years

[fingertipsmp3]

Really need to turn my instagram notifications on. Why did I check it for the first time in months and discover that my best friend made a meme account, and that this woman I had a crush on four years ago requested to follow me

[aturnoftheearth]

stuck in the tortuous loop of missing people i shouldn’t again

[yoohyeon]

THIS IS GOING TO BE THE BEST WEEKEND OF MY LIFE

[estrellami-1]

Steddie Week 2024

July 5th Prompt: Reunion

Day 1 | Day 2 | Day 3 | Day 4 | Day 6 | Day 7

@steddie-week

“Babe,” Eddie calls from the kitchen. Steve’s in the bathroom, brushing his teeth, so he garbles out an unintelligible one minute! before quickly finishing.

He walks into the kitchen, tugging at the collar of his shirt. “What’s up?”

Eddie’s eyes are dancing with mirth as he helps Steve fix his collar. “You’ll never guess what just came in the mail.”

Steve raises a brow. “You’re acting like my parents are groveling at the door right now.”

Eddie barks out a laugh. “Oh, sweetheart, no. I’d very much be laughing in their faces if that’s what was happening.” He grabs Steve’s glasses from the counter he’d forgotten them on last night, unfolds them, and carefully slides them on Steve’s face. “No migraines,” he murmurs, and Steve’s hit with a rush of love so big he just has to tell Eddie.

“I love you.”

Eddie smiles softly; a small, disbelieving, hopeful thing that’s never changed from the first time Steve said it. “And I, my love,” he murmurs back. “But no, it’s not your parents.” His grin grows into a giggle. “It’s fuckin’ Hawkins High.”

Steve makes a face. “It’s still standing?”

Eddie snorts. “Apparently-fucking-ly.” He grabs two letters; one with Steve’s name, one with Eddie’s. “One letter for each of us. I already opened mine. It’s a reunion.”

Steve furrows his brows, rips into the envelope, pulls the paper out. “Hawkins High School… forty-year reunion… de-” he frowns up at Eddie. “Decennial?”

Eddie hums, nods. “Every ten years. God knows where our other ones went.”

Steve hums. “Guess we can throw these in the trash, huh?”

Eddie shifts. “You don’t want to go?”

Steve stares at him incredulously. “You do? You, Eddie Munson, want to go back to the place where—and these are your words, here—apart from our group of friends, only the- the backwoods of inbreeding resides?”

Eddie cackles. “Oh yeah, I did say that, didn’t I?” He’s delighted. Steve’s finding it hard not to smile in the face of that joy.

“So you want to go back?”

Eddie shrugs. “Think about it,” he requests. “I don’t want to go to see how anyone else is doing. Frankly, I don’t have the time to give two shits about them. But you know I’ll always jump at the chance to show you off.”

Steve raises both eyebrows this time. “You want to show me off? In fucking Hawkins?”

Eddie deflates. “You don’t want to go.”

Steve shakes his head. “No, babe, that’s not what I’m saying. I’m saying that even though it’s legal, even though we’re officially married now, if there’s one place that isn’t gonna be accepting…” he trails off, lets Eddie finish the thought for himself.

“What if I convince Nancy to come?”

“Well, she’ll have to come if we go, won’t she? Cause you know she’ll go anywhere Robin does, and Robin’s gonna follow me, so…”

Eddie snickers. “Okay, yeah, fair enough. But babe, we’ll have Nancy and Robin on our side. The three of you took on Vecna, I think you can take on some overweight, washed-up, balding fifty-something-year-old.” He squeezes at Steve’s biceps, and Steve tries not to preen.

He’s proud of the care he’s shown his body, he’s proud of the way he looks, he’s proud that Eddie likes the way he looks. He can feel his resolve waning, is about to tell Eddie fuck it, let’s go, when his phone rings.

He pats his pockets, looks around for it. “Room,” Eddie supplies, and Steve gratefully peck his cheek before jogging to their room, where it’s laying on his nightstand. Eddie walks in as he answers it, having followed at a more sedate pace. “Hello?”

“Are you going to the reunion?”

“Hey, Robbie,” Steve chuckles, meets Eddie’s eyes. “Yeah, we are.”

“Yes!” She cheers. “You’re the best, we’re getting joint hotel rooms, right?”

He laughs and sits on the edge of the bed. “It’s Hawkins, Robs, I don’t think it has anything quite that fancy.”

Robin groans, loud and long enough that both Steve and Eddie have to stifle their giggles. “But I haven’t seen you in forever!”

“It’s been barely a week, Robbie.”

“That’s what I said!”

He relents. “I know. I miss you too. We’ll see you there?”

“Yeah,” she agrees, and hangs up.

Steve looks at Eddie, amused. “I guess we’d better pack. And you should tell the guys, don’t you have something going on that day?”

“Oh, shit,” Eddie says, and runs to the living room for his phone.

Steve surveys their room and sighs. He calls out to Eddie, “bring me a notepad on your way back, please!”

Eddie does, so he sets to work making a list for everything they need to pack while Eddie types away, postponing his plans.

While they might not get joint hotel rooms, Steve, Eddie, Robin, and Nancy are carpooling back to Hawkins in Robin’s van. She’s driving, Nancy’s in the passenger seat, Steve’s right behind Robin and Eddie’s right behind Nancy. Their luggage is piled precariously in the back, meaning every time Robin turns, the luggage slides from one side of the van to the other. Steve, with his mostly-undiagnosed OCD, flinches every time. And every time, Eddie pats his hand.

Besides the shifting suitcases, it’s a nice ride, even if Steve does grab Eddie’s hand and squeeze, just a hair tightly, whenever they pass the Welcome to Hawkins! sign.

Everyone gets a little quiet, after that. Robin fumbles with the radio, and Eddie perks up. “This song,” he says, practically bouncing in his seat.

Steve snorts. “Iron Maiden,” he tells her.

“The fact that you know that-”

“It gets worse,” he tells her, grinning. “The song is called Wasted Years. I know all the words.”

Robin grins, turns the volume up.

The joke’s really on her, though, because she’s always been good at music, patterns, and she’s singing the chorus with him and Eddie by the time they get to the end of the song, Nancy laughing at them. “So understand,” they sing, Robin glancing in the rearview mirror, Steve looking from her to Eddie and back again. “Don’t waste your time always searching for those wasted years. Face up, make this stand. And realize you’re living in the golden years!”

Steve and Eddie are practically screaming it at each other by the last line. Robin’s given up to join Nancy in laughing at them. Steve joins in as Eddie plays air guitar to the end of the song, collapsing in a laugh when it’s finally over.

“Okay,” Eddie says, grinning. “I think I could take on anything now.”

“Yeah?” Nancy asks, pointing ahead. “You’re ready for the reunion?”

They’d decided, since the last time they took a proper road trip had been too many years ago, they could do it the same day as the reunion.

They’d forgotten how getting old, coupled with the problems every one of them still has from the Upside Down, means they’re all very much sore from sitting in a car for upwards of five hours.

The plan was drive the five-something hours, go to the reunion, crash in the hotel, and drive back home the next day.

Steve hates the plan now and wants to go to the hotel to rest like the old man he’s letting himself be.

However unfortunate it may be, the reunion is today, which means Steve gets to suck it up, say hi to people he probably doesn’t even remember anymore, and then leave.

He hops out of the car and stretches a little, laughing when Eddie attempts the same hop out of the car and almost eats asphalt. “Dumbass,” he mutters. Eddie shoots him a Cheshire grin.

Before long they’re ready to walk inside. Steve takes a breath as he passes through the doors. The hallways are the same, but the lockers are new. It still smells like teenagers and feet, he notices, wrinkling his nose. The things you’ll get nose-blind to, he supposes.

The letters they’d gotten said the reunion was to be held in the gym, so that’s where they head.

Steve didn’t know what he expected, but it wasn’t a few snack tables along the edge of the room and a single Reunion of ‘85 banner. “Goddamn,” Eddie says from beside him, “depressing much?”

Steve snorts in agreement and walks over to the drink table. If he’s going to talk to people, he’s at least going to have questionable-looking punch while he does.

When he turns after getting punch, he nearly runs into someone. He quickly steps back. “Oh, sorry!” He looks up into the shocked face of Tommy Hagan. He blinks. “Tommy?”

“Steve.”

Steve smiles. “How’ve you been?”

Tommy blinks, like he can’t believe Steve’s being nice to him right now, and that’s when Steve remembers they’d parted on not-so-nice terms. Oh well, he would’ve feigned politeness even if he’d remembered. “I’m good, yeah, uh, how- how’re you?”

“I’m good,” Steve agrees. “Really good. Last I remember you and Carol were dancing around each other, yeah? What happened there?”

“We got married,” Tommy nods.

“Congratulations!”

“And then divorced two years later,” Tommy adds, smirking. Steve winces. “How about you? Last I knew, it was you and Wheeler, ‘cept she cheated on you with Byers, yeah?”

“God,” Steve laughs, “that was so long ago. Yeah, that happened. We talked it through and Nance and I are really good friends now. She’s married to someone else, as am I, but we both keep in touch with Jon, thought he’s out in California now.”

Tommy’s brow raises. “Married? Who’s the lucky girl?”

A presence beside him makes Steve turn to see Eddie grinning at him. “My ears are burning.”

“They should be,” he laughs. “Tommy, you remember Eddie?”

“Munson,” Tommy nods, then does a double take. “Wait, you’re married?”

“As of three years ago now,” Eddie says proudly. “But together for…”

“Thirty-seven years,” Steve provides, smiling at his husband before turning back to Tommy. “Did you ever get remarried after Carol?” Tommy shakes his head.

Eddie whispers in Steve’s ear, “You know he totally had the hots for you, right?”

Steve winces at the blast of static from his hearing aid and quickly shuts it off. “Ow,” he mutters, grinning crookedly at Eddie, who looks apologetic. He quickly signs what he’d whispered, and Steve laughs. “Don’t you remember my initial panic?”

Eddie thinks, back to when Steve had asked him what’s gay versus friendly, becoming increasingly confused when most of the things Eddie ticked off in the gay category were things Steve and Tommy had done that Steve had thought firmly resided in the friendly category. “Oh, yeah.”

Steve snorts, shakes his head, pushes him away. “Go talk to someone else. Rescue Robin, she looks like she needs it.”

“Nah,” Eddie says, “she can hold her own,” but goes anyways after a quick peck to Steve’s cheek. Steve turns the hearing aid back on.

“Man,” Tommy says wonderingly, “what happened to you?”

“Concussions,” Steve answers flatly. “Three of ‘em. Then I grew up.” He sighs, looks down at his cup, then up at Tommy. “Listen, man, about what we used to do-”

Tommy winces. “I know. I had that revelation a while ago, actually, but it was definitely shitty of me.”

Steve smiles, shrugs. “You had a crush on me. It’s not an excuse, but it does make a certain kind of sense you’d react that way, especially considering the kind of home life you had.” He smiles self-deprecatingly. “Feel free to stop listening if the therapist side of me comes out. I swear I’m not trying to, like, diagnose you with anything.”

Tommy’s brows raise. “You’re a therapist?”

Steve hums affirmatively. “Started as a school counselor, if you can believe that.”

Tommy fixes him with a wondering grin. “Y’know? I think I can see it.”

“Do my eyes deceive me,” someone says from their side, draping their arms across Steve and Tommy’s shoulders, pulling them into a hug.

Steve comes face-to-face with Carol. He grins. “Hey, Carol.”

“Hey, you,” she says, raking her eyes over him. “Time’s been good to you.”

“You’re one to talk,” Steve says happily, but its true; she doesn’t look a day over forty, instead of the fifty-odd she is now. “How are you?”

“Can’t complain,” she agrees.

They go through the same song-and-dance, but this time when she asks who he’s married to, he sees Eddie juggling water bottles, talking to a couple of people. “Oh, for-” he mutters, then louder, “Eddie, what in the everloving fuck are you doing?”

Eddie drops a bottle, puts the other two on the table behind him, and jogs over to throw his weight onto Steve. “Making friends.”

Steve snorts, elbows him off. “Say hi to Carol, babe.”

Carol clocks it immediately, based on the twitch of her eyebrow, but only says, “I didn’t peg you two as a couple.”

“Well, yeah,” Eddie snorts, “it was Bumfuck, Indiana in the 80’s.”

Carol tilts her head in agreement, then turns to Tommy and says coolly, “Tommy.”

“Carol,” he replies, tips of his ears red.

Eddie looks between them, then turns a raised eyebrow on Steve, who quickly signs, “Married for two years a while ago. I don’t know any details.”

“He clearly is still into her.”

“I refuse to be a part of whatever you’re planning.”

Eddie pouts. “You’re no fun.”

Carol clears her throat. “Sign language?”

Steve snorts. “Turns out brains aren’t supposed to get banged around. You’ve got a real good chance of messing something up that way.”

Eddie pokes his cheek. “‘S not your fault.”

“Never said it was,” Steve placates.

Carol shakes her head. “How many concussions do you have?”

Steve hums. “Three? Four?”

“Three,” Eddie corrects. “Not that we need to get into it right now.” He gives Carol a tight smile, and Steve hip-checks him.

“Down, boy,” he murmurs with a smile. “I’m alright.” He turns to Carol with a wider smile. “Long story short, the concussions caused irreparable hearing loss. I’m almost completely deaf in my left ear, but I get by.”

“Damn,” Carol says lightly, “life, huh?”

Steve snorts. “You can say that again.” He tilts his head. “How are you?” He asks. “Really?”

She gives him a crooked smile. “Let’s walk and talk.” Steve offers her his arm, which she takes with a laugh.

“How am I,” she muses. “Well I thought I found love, but we imploded two years later. Thank god for prenups, I guess, but at the same time, that made it feel like we were doomed from the start.”

Steve hums. “Eddie and I have been legally married for three years,” he tells her. “Together for thirty-seven. We’ve got prenups. Not because we think we won’t work, but because we want the people we care about to not have to worry about any of that.” He’s silent for a few steps. “I used to think love is out of our control. That we don’t get to decide who we fall for. And maybe, to a certain extent, that’s true. But love is also a choice you make every day. Eddie and I are still in love because we choose to be.”

“You look at each other like you’re on your honeymoon.”

Steve giggles. “And to think we didn’t even have a honeymoon!”

Carol laughs, too, then sobers. “You always were more fortunate in love,” she says. “What do you think? Do we have a chance?”

Steve hums. “I think it’s obvious, just by looking at him, that he’s still into you.”

“No shit.”

“So what’s important is how you feel. Marriage is work, I’m not gonna lie and say it’s not. So are you ready, and I mean really ready, to work for it?”

She works her lower lip. “I think so,” she admits. “But I- I’m also not completely sure I’m straight.”

“Okay,” Steve shrugs. “Do you know what he and I used to get up to?” He shrugs at her look. “I’m just saying, neither is he.”

“I mean, I definitely still like guys.”

“Well duh, you’ve taken more dick than I have and I’m married to a man.”

She snorts. “But women…”

“I know,” Steve says sympathetically. “It’s hard, isn’t it.” He pats her hand. “If you’re ready to try, though, you need to talk to him.” He turns her around, gestures toward Tommy, who quickly looks away, cheeks burning. They both laugh softly.

Carol leans up to kiss his cheek. “Thank you, Steve. Let’s keep in touch.”

“Let’s actually keep in touch,” he agrees, handing her his phone. “Where do you live?”

“Columbus for now, but he’s in Dayton.”

Steve hums. “We’re in Detroit.”

“We’ll do phone calls,” Carol decides, laughing.

Steve chuckles, saves her number. “Plan to meet up-”

“Never actually do-”

“Oh, Carol, it’s been so long-”

They both break off into giggles. “You’re fun,” she decides. “I wish we’d kept in touch.”

“To be fair, we competed for title of bitchiest.”

“To be fair, I don’t think we ever grew out of that,” Carol retorted, and Steve snorts, gently shoving her.

“Alright, go get your man, and send mine over here.”

She gently steps on his shoe as she leaves, impish smile in place, and Steve turns only to run into Nancy and Robin. “Hey, guys,” he smiles.

Nancy gives him a look. “Making nice with Carol?”

Steve shrugs, grins at her. “Turns out we were just kids. Who knew, right?”

Just then, Eddie comes up behind him, wrapping his arms around Steve’s waist and resting his chin on Steve’s shoulder. “What’re we talking about?”

Nancy smiles at him, wraps an arm around Robin’s waist. “Being kids.”

“That so?” He presses a kiss to Steve’s cheek, pushes back to look at him. “You look lighter.”

Steve hums. “‘S cause I love you.”

“Charmer,” Eddie mutters, turning bright red. “C’mon, seriously.”

“Seriously,” Steve agrees. “I was talking with Carol about her and Tommy, and I told her that why we work is because we work at it.”

“Very true.”

From behind them, someone cautiously asks, “Eddie Munson?”

They both turn, and suddenly Eddie’s scooping her up in a hug. “Ronnie! What the hell are you doin’ here, huh?”

She laughs and hugs him back just as hard. “Did you ever know a Jackson Starnes?”

Eddie’s brow furrows for a second, then smooths out. “Oh, Jackie! Yeah, he was cool.”

“Mhm. He’s my husband.”

“No shit? I’m happy for you.”

“Thanks,” she laughs, then nods at everyone else. “Who’s the hunk you were hangin’ off of?”

Eddie chuckles. “Ronnie, meet my husband, Steve.”

She turns an eyebrow on him. “You got married?”

“He proposed,” Steve corrects her, grinning.

“To the preppiest of jocks,” Robin adds.

Eddie laughs. “What can I say? It’s love.” He swoons, placing a hand over his chest, almost pulling Ronnie over with the arm still over her shoulder.

She laughs and dumps him off of her. Steve swoops in before he can fall, hoisting him up with a quick kiss.

“I’m Nancy,” she says, extending her hand to Ronnie. “And this is my wife Robin.”

“Oh!” Eddie says, literally jumping back into the conversation. “Robin and Steve are like how we were.”

“Platonic soulmates,” Steve agrees.

“With a capital P,” Robin emphasizes.

“It’s nice to meet you all,” Ronnie says.

“How’s Wayne?” She asks Eddie.

“Dead.” He snickers at her face. “‘S alright, Ronnie. It’s been years.”

“Still. I can be sorry.”

“You can,” he agrees. “It won’t help anything, but you can.” He digs his phone out of his pockets, opens his contacts app. “Here, lemme get your number, yeah?”

“Fuck yeah,” Ronnie says, “let’s hang out, just lemme know when so I can get a sitter.”

Eddie chokes on nothing. “You have a kid?”

Ronnie grins, a shit-eating thing as she hands his phone back. “Three.”

“Goddamn,” he says, “you got pictures?”

Ronnie rolls her eyes, grabs her phone. “What kind of mom would I be if I didn’t? Here, this is Cassie, Alex, and… that’s Elijah.”

“Oh, man, Alex looks just like Jackie, doesn’t he?”

“I carry him for nine months,” Ronnie bitches good-naturedly. “‘Nough about me, though, how’re you? Corroded Coffin ever take off?”

Eddie snorts. “You hear about the psychopath in ‘86?”

“I remember something about it.”

“Yeah. I got caught in the crossfires, wrongfully blamed, and spent…” he looks at Steve. “A year?”

“Almost.”

He turns back to Ronnie. “Almost a year hiding out. Corroded Coffin was officially disbanded after I was allowed out of hiding.”

“Fuck,” Ronnie says, “there goes my entire foot in my mouth, I guess. What’re you doing now, then?”

He chuckles. “A little bit of everything, honestly. A little music, a little writing, a little D&D. Nothing that’s made me a household name, but enough that I’m kept busy and we’re comfortable.”

Ronnie nods. “And how about you?” She asks Steve.

“Oh, nothing as fun as that,” Steve chuckles. “I’m a therapist.”

Ronnie tilts her head. “Any specialties?”

“C-PTSD, mainly.”

“Damn, I know about eight people who could use someone like you.”

Steve snorts. “That’s usually the way it goes, yeah.”

“Well it was great seeing you, Eddie,” Ronnie says. “And meeting all the rest of you. But I’ve got to find my husband and get back home, so we’ll have to continue this later.”

“Of course,” Steve says. “See you later?”

“Absolutely,” Ronnie nods, then turns and walks off.

They decide to leave not too much later. They’re all tired, so the drive to the hotel is filled with only the sound of the radio, turned almost all the way down.

“Y’know,” Eddie murmurs, tracing the ring on Steve’s finger, “she was my first kiss.”

Steve snorts, an explosive thing that he definitely learned from Robin. “She what?”

“Yup,” Eddie nods. “I knew I liked girls, but she’s the only one I got close enough to to actually know. We got stupid one night and decided to kiss and it basically went how it would if you and Robin were to kiss.”

“Ew,” Steve says on reflex. Eddie snorts.

Robin slaps at him from her seat, then yells when he slaps back, “Don’t distract the driver!”

“Bitch,” he tells her, “you slapped first!”

“You said ew about kissing me!”

“Do you want to kiss me?”

“Hell no!”

“That’s why I said it!”

Eddie leans up to murmur to Nancy, “should we break it up?”

“Eh, give it a minute. Once they resort to cursing their lineages we can break it up.”

He chuckles. “Always the wise one, Wheeler.”

“You’d best believe it,” she nods smugly.

“Nancy!” Robin says. “Baby! Defend me!”

“About kissing Steve? Who I’ve kissed before?”

“Oh, no,” Robin says, horrified. “I’m stuck in the car with the two people who are experts on Steve kissing.”

“Why’d you make it sound like a bad thing?” Steve demands.

And… yeah. Eddie’s glad they got separate hotel rooms.

Based on the look Nancy throws his way when they part, she’s glad, too.

[strvberrydoll]

Rosemary

Summary: After finding out Arthur’s secret you soothe your aching heart with a nice girls night out drinking in Rhodes. Unfortunately for you your problems seem to follow you everywhere. part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4

AO3 link (a better rewritten version of this fic on ao3)

Pairing: Arthur Morgan x f!reader

Content: angst, hurt/no comfort, nothing a girls night out cannot cure ;) grammar errors for sure :(

a/n: I know you guys all wanted part 2 to be their happily ever after but,, I crave some more angst so yeah it gets messyy !! But nonetheless our girl gets some fun with the girls and some more information about Arthur and Mary’s hush hush meetings. Let me know your thoughts about it and if you sweets want part 3 !! P.S. I recommend you listen to “Rosemary” by Sierra Ferrell while reading. It’s so so good, it also kinda inspired this little fanfic here <33 (gif from pinterest)

“G’mornin’ sweet girl” Arthur groggily whispered against your neck giving you a light kiss, the movement causing the thick hair of his beard to tickle the space between your neck and your shoulder, before rolling out of bed with a tired groan, the mattress shifting under his movements unlike your unmoving form.

After your late night discovery of not one, not two but a whole drawer full of your boyfriend’s ex-fiancé letters it was safe to say that sleep didn’t come easy for you. As much as you wanted for all of this to be a dream, to close your eyes, wake up and sigh of relief laughing about the ‘bizarre dream’ you had with your Arthur while cuddling under the soft protection of the thick bed sheets, reality decided to slap you right in the face instead, leaving you awake all night trying to hold onto all the broken pieces of your heart.

During your sleepless night you wandered to yourself your next move. Should you just throw everything into his face revealing to him that you knew that the ‘sorry fellow’ of the letter was, in reality, his ex fiancé and yell at him as soon as he wakes up or wait and find out more before confronting him ? Considering the fact that you couldn’t properly read, you just had Mary’s name on various envelopes as evidence. Maybe they’re catching up on each other’s life. Just harmless conversations.

Although your heart screamed at you to just confront him first thing in the morning you knew that with what little evidence you had you would just cause a scene. You needed to go deeper into this story. As much as I’d hurt you needed to know for sure if you wasted three years of your life going after a man whose heart had already been claimed a long time ago.

You brushed off Arthur’s affection muttering a quick tired ‘morning’ before stretching your limbs out and leaving the tent, ignoring the man behind you still sitting on the bed looking at you with a puzzled expression at the lack of your usual loving greeting. Even though you two had the biggest tent in camp, aside for Dutch, it felt claustrophobic being in there with him. You needed space to think, to breathe, to not hurt.

The fresh breeze of October grounding you from your spiraling thoughts as you walked towards the pot of coffee on the fire near Pearson’s tent.

“Well look who’s here in all her glory” a voice, which you recognized as Karen’s by the thick accent, basically yelled at you over the nearby round table.

“You look like you fought a damn herd of buffalos Miss. What the hell are you an’ that old man doing in the night” she cackled at the last sentence gesturing you to join her at the table. Seated on her left Tilly shook her head sending you a sympathetic look.

“Are you already drunk ? Why are you so loud for, it’s seven in the morning” you grumbled in your mug of coffee as you took a sip, instantly cringing at the burnt taste that filled your mouth before sitting down with them.

“I’m happy to inform you that I haven’t had a sip since yesterday at lunch” she smiled smugly lifting her chin up at her achievement.

“That’s ‘cause we haven’t seen Miss Grimshaw yet. Bet you by the end of the day you’d kill for a little bit of booze after that woman.” Tilly said fixing the buttons on her yellow blouse, her words reminding you of the long day ahead of you, making you mentally shiver. It wasn’t exactly that you dreaded the woman, after all, you all knew she cared about you in her own twisted way but her attitude didn’t help with making the camp’s chores more tolerable. It seemed like the warmer weather of Lemoyne was putting everyone on edge.

After a few minutes of Karen and Tilly arguing on what was the worst chore to do around camp Abigail and Mary Beth’s dainty figure joined your small group, Mary Beth’s eyes briefly locking on yours before greeting the other girls. You couldn’t quite understand the meaning behind that look but something told you that at some level she knew something about the letters. That possibility made you nauseous to even think of because it would mean that Mary Beth, the girl who always put a smile on your face, the one who always had your back ended up covering for your cheating partner. You needed to know the truth and you needed it now. But before you could even mutter a word to her Karen called your group to attention.

“Gals, I don’t know about y’all but if I stay just one more moment in this godforsaken camp I’m gonna lose my mind.” her statement gaining a few nods and grunts among your group. With the unnecessary gunfight in Valentine leading you all to move further away from the West and this absurd play at sheriffs in town, tension was undeniably high around camp. “I heard from a handsome fella I met in town that there’s going to be some famous lady from Saint Denis singing at the saloon this evening. Heard also there’s going to be some rich folks from Saint Denis with her. Are y’all thinking the same thing I’m thinking ?”

there was a moment of silence as Karen looked at everyone with gleaming eyes.

“Hells know I need a break from this. I’m in” Tilly was the first who broke the silence followed by Mary Beth, the two girls earning a big smile from Karen.

“I don’t know, I have Jack and,” Abigail never had a chance to finish the sentence as Karen immediately interrupted her, telling her to leave Jack with Hosea for a few hours at not make a fuss. It’s not like you were going to be there all night, plus god’s knows how that woman needed some well deserved time for herself once in a while.

You couldn’t lie, the idea of going out after weeks of being in the same spot with the same routine every day excited you quite a bit and if on top of that you add some good ol’ pickpocketing then consider yourself sold. You were going out this evening no matter what.

“Are y’all lazy do-nothin’ girls done chit chatting !? There’s so much work to do today and you’re all sittin’ there doing nothin’. This generation is unbelievable. Get your asses off to work. Now.” The unmistakable trill of Miss Grimshaw's voice shook you from your comfortable seats putting you all to work for the day. As you got up from your seat you tried your best to ignore Arthur’s piercing gaze on you.

––––– ✧ ✦ ✧ –––––

The sun was slowly setting over flat iron lake, the sky tinted with a mixture of oranges and pinks. You passed your day washing the camp's dirty laundry, scrubbing dry blood and dirt from the old fabrics of each camp’s member clothes. Managing more or so to avoid Arthur throughout launch, the task not easy as he sat down with you and wouldn’t stop talking to you or asking you questions. You tried your best to not straight up ignore him, answering with monosyllabic answers to his questions. Eventually, he understood you weren’t having it, his hands leaving their place on top of the one you had flat on the table. An annoyed expression evident on his face. Why all of a sudden were you ignoring him ? His mind working miles an hour to find out what he did wrong but failing at the task. You seemed fine last night so what the hell happened to make his darling so distant from him.

When you were getting up from the table to put your dirty dish in the washing bin he tried to stop you, his calloused hand delicately taking your wrist. His confused face met with your tired one. He studied your face almost as if the secret to your behavior was hidden through your mesmerizing features. He tried to say something but the words wouldn’t come up, leaving both of you staring into each other eyes, his aqua ones filled with turmoil, before Uncle's voice burst your bubble calling Arthur for work.

After that, you only saw him half an hour later mounting on his horse before riding off.

You definitely needed this night with the girls.

Putting on your last finishing touches to your lipstick you met with Tilly and Abigail near the horse-drawn carriage that Lenny swiftly stole from a nearby town.

“Hello ladies,” you faked a bow lifting your skirt up by the sides the action causing the other two girls to laugh “ready for this eventful evening ?”

“Well of course I’m ready” Tilly replied mimicking your fake posh accent before getting on the carriage helped by Lenny who was your driver for the night since he also had some business to attend to. You waited for Karen and Mary Beth before going off to town, the drive to Rhodes filled with light chit-chat and silly songs, your mind and heart already feeling at ease.

As you all thanked Lenny for the drive you looked around noticing the numerous people around you, the town buzzing with life but most importantly buzzing with opportunities to steal. Before entering the saloon you strolled through the town, Abigail and Mary Beth’s skilled hands already pickpocketing around while you, Karen and Tilly distracted the poor fellas.

Twenty dollars in your pocket and half an hour later you entered the saloon, gladly finding an empty table to sit near the stage that was occupied by a tall blonde woman in a fancy dress who you deduced was the famous singer from Saint Denis.

With drinks on the table and the sweet melody of the guitar, a light conversation about your successful operation sparked amongst your group until a man approached your table, the heavy scent of alcohol evident on him as he tried to drunkenly flirt with Tilly, ending up insulting her rather than woo her earning a slap in the face from the girl, attracting some attention to your table. Luckily the slimy man was too drunk to react and decided to wander off as you all giggled at the situation.

Round after round you all let loose getting up to dance to the merry melody of the music. Tilly standing near the table swaying in her red dress, with Karen by her side singing her heart out, already too drunk for her own good, while Abigail chatted with one of the men from Saint Denis. You shot her a wink as soon as you noticed the wealthy man making her face light up with mirth.

What an absolute fool you are John Marston.

The only two sitting down were you and Mary Beth, whose eyes never left you since sitting down. Her presence a reminder of your cracked heart. It was supposed to be a fun night at the saloon away from your problems, but your curiosity and need to be wrong about Mary and Arthur gnawed inside of you.

“Mary Beth,” you cautiously greeted her, scooting your chair closer to hers so the other girls wouldn’t hear the two of you from their nearby positions. You didn’t want any more drama to spread around tonight.

“Hi,” there was a long uncomfortable pause before she looked up to you again and started blurting everything out. “I’m sorry, I really do. I should have told you he was receiving letters from her again I just didn’t know how to tell you. When I found the first letter two weeks ago he told me he was gonna tell you. But then I saw how you reacted yesterday seeing her letter and I knew he didn’t” She took your hands in hers before continuing, her words coming out fast, the alcohol in her system making her accent heavier “Oh I’m such a fool, please forgive me, I just didn’t want to come between your relationship”.

You were taken aback by her sudden confession, you thought it would be a tad more complicated to let her open up to you about it. Hearing her point of view definitely helped you clear your mind a bit, she had a fair point. It wasn’t her fault Arthur decided to hide something like this. Your anger towards that man growing more and more. Nonetheless, you couldn’t help but notice one thing.

“You said the first letter arrived two weeks ago ?” you asked her. His drawer was full of letters, it was impossible to send that many letters in just two weeks.

“Yes, then I gave it to Arthur, I usually pick up the mail but Arthur has been helping me lately, why?” you started to fidget with the bracelet Arthur gifted for your first anniversary, a small gesture you did when thinking or anxious. The dots in your mind slowly connecting.

––––– ✧ ✦ ✧ –––––

You were about to go back to camp, everyone was on the carriage. Lenny, who had come back from his business with some intel, was back in his driver seat ready to go when you noticed you forgot your gloves at the saloon. Quickly apologizing you clumsily hopped down the carriage, your tipsy state making your movements far from gracious, giggling to yourself you walked back to the saloon to retrieve your gloves. Thankfully they were still on the table untouched.

As you walked back to the carriage enjoying the chilly weather of October from the corner of your eyes you noticed a familiar figure standing outside a building. Maybe it was the alcohol running through your veins or perhaps your curious nature but you turned to steal a glance at the figure.

All color drained from your face as you saw who it was.

As you saw her.

You met her just once in the past but the figure you saw was unmistakably the one of Mary. Smiling up at a man you instantly recognized.

You felt your heart cracking even more. You ran away as fast as you could, leaving pieces of your shattered heart behind as you reached the carriage, quickly hopping on.

During the whole ride, you tried your absolute best to not cry in front of everyone and ruin the cheerful mood, biting the inside of your cheeks as a distraction.

––––– ✧ ✦ ✧ –––––

You were back in your tent when Abigail stopped by.

“Hey, I saw you earlier and you didn’t look so good, are you ok sweetie ?” she asked, her sweet voice full of concern as she put her hand on your shoulder moving it in a calming manner, the tone of her voice and her action causing you to break down in tears like a child to their mother. She quickly pulled you into one of her comforting hugs as you violently sobbed your heart out. Soft ‘It’s ok’ left her lips as she held your shaking form in her arms. Managing to let out a small ‘Arthur’ to answer her question on what was wrong.

Seeing him with Mary tonight was the final straw. You didn’t need any more evidence, you already had everything you needed. He lied to Mary Beth about the letter, he lied to you about it too, matter of fact he lied to you about everything. How could he walk around kissing you, touching you, acting all caring as if nothing. As if he didn’t have a drawer with Mary’s letters, as if he didn’t lie to you this whole time.

Your heartbreak slowly turned into anger, the more you thought about it the more your blood boiled.

“Wanna talk about it ?” sensing you calming down from your sobs she gently fixed a strand of hair behind your ear, a concerned expression evident on her fair features. You dried your tears, your hands stained with mascara. You undoubtedly looked like a mess, or at least you felt like it.

Then, a familiar sound of hooves on the ground could be heard from the entrance of camp.

Arthur was back.

“Oh, so help me God I’m gonna strangle that piece of shit”.

[absolutebl]

This Week in BL - Getting hot under the collar and in the kitchen and on the pool table and...

Organized, in each category, with ones I'm enjoying most at the top.

Aug 2024 Week 3

Ongoing Series - Thai

Monster Next Door (Thai Thurs Gaga ) eps 3-4 of 12 - one of the things I'm enjoying about this show is the fact that the introverted super shy uke is having hot fantasies, and the extroverted seme is having the sweet fantasies. It's another way this show is highlighting God being the world's greenest flagged seme BL has ever produced. (And he's being given stiff competition this year - trend alert.)

Anygay: God is so cute and so not cool and so in love and all the consent asking word salad coming out of this boy. I LOVE him. 

Diew: It’s ep 4 so I’ve decided we can talk face-to-face.  God: So how many children do you want? 

The teaching him to play basketball bit, where God politely asks to hold his hand, is so freaking adorable I can’t.

I'm thinking of calling this show the anti-Mame pill.

Blue pill? Red pill? GREEN pill!

My Love Mix-Up Th (Fri YT) ep 11 of 12 - We gotta talk. I do like this version, but it’s starting to feel lackluster. Perhaps it always was by comparison to the bright sparkle uniqueness of the original. Perhaps I didn't notice because I was distracted by G4. But now I gotta say it's become a bit disappointing and even my love for G4 can’t seem to bind me to this. Frankly, this show is making me want to watch either the Japanese version, or My School President. It’s never a good sign when a currently airing BL makes me want to stop that and go rewatch an old one I’ve already seen.

NO SINGING.

Meanwhile, the "locked on the rooftop" trope! I haven’t seen that one in years. Cool. Also cute kisses. They learning. 

This Love Doesn't Have Long Beans (Fri iQIYI) ep 7 of 8 - I can’t believe this is ending next week. But also I can. And I have thoughts.

I really love SailubPon. They might be one of my favorite newer pairs on the scene right now. But I just don’t believe in these characters or this couple. I don’t feel like they are going to have a lasting relationship. It feels like they’re just using each other for sex and distraction, and that’s how the script to set it up, and as a result they’re never gonna make it as a couple. As soon as the sexual fire between them burns out, what do they have to build a relationship on? Frankly? That would be fine if this were a modern love drama, and not a BL. But this IS a BL.

Putting the health code violators aside, I really do believe in the secondary pair, but they haven’t been given enough bandwidth to develop as a couple. There’s no way they’re going to adequately resolve Methas and JJ in the final episode.

At this juncture, I’m mostly finding this show annoying. Which in itself is annoying, because I wanted to love it.

Why is it that Thailand, the land of the best food in the world, king of BLs, struggles so hard to produce the restaurant set BL of my dreams? I’m really pissed about this.

That said, the Methas & JJ stuff is killer. Loved JJ running away. So good. Plus the age old decision - love or money? 

Battle of the Writers (Sun YT) ep 2-3 of 12 - The issue was me and I've managed to get hold of this show again. The story within the story is so ridiculously badly written I'm going spare. I’m not sure if the outside show is not ALSO badly written. That said, I do love how the 3 writer friends are all shipping our leads. It’s VERY silly. Meanwhile, cohabitation trope is a go. 

I like the side couple too. Stern Daddy + lost puppy is a very cute dynamic, I hope we get more than just crumbs. I actually am enjoying this show now. Ep 3 kinda derailed into this weird chimera novel that they’re all writing together and I’m finding that bit the least interesting, but I adore the domestic components which I think may turn out to be TutorYim's strength (if they're allowed to lean into it). 

Addicted Heroin (Thai Tues WeTV) ep 1 of 10 - Man I hope this gets some kind of distribution at some point. It was a pain to find and watch. But I enjoyed it. The focus is more on the seme in Thailand’s version. Which I don’t mind since that's rare in BL, and it’s more August on my screen. It’s all round softer than China’s version but still feels very familiar. I know some fans are struggling with it, but not me.

Sunset X Vibes (Sat iQIYI) ep 10 of 12 - I like that Sam’s crafty business espionage has paid off. Them teasing Sam & Yo really had me belly laughing. It was so funny.

Legitimate question. Would one put perfume on one’s cheeks in Thailand, as one does on wrist or sternum? Because of the sniff cheek thing? Scented face powders?

I do feel like with MosBank & SailubPon scorching up our screens, we’re being spoiled by some of Thailand‘s best high heat pairs at the moment.

I Saw You in My Dream (Weds Gaga) ep 5 of 12 - It remains kind of sweet and cute. It's also calm and slow moving. Oddly it reminds me of La Cuisine in its style and execution (if not content). I’m enjoying it more than I thought I would.

The Trainee (Sun YouTube) ep 7 of 12 - I don’t know. I’m getting bored.

Love Sea (Sun iQIYI) ep 10fin - Fort’s acting during the break-up was truly great. But I feel for Rak. It’s rough to learn that someone else is playing a long game with feelings while you were playing a short game with d**k.

Ultimately this is probably a solid 8/10 show but I’m mad I wasn’t madder at it, and I'm mad I was so bored throughout. So it gets a 7/10 and let us not speak of this again. I’d like to simply forget about it. Trash watch.

Ongoing Series - Not Thai

Sugar Dog Life (Japan Sun grey) ep 1-2 of 10 - OMG a uni student who looks young and a... COP! GAH. The subversion and kink of it all. I had to go grey to get it and I hate everything about what I had to do. But ya know what? Fucking worth every single repeated crash-causing advertisement.

I love it. The grumpy lonely little student cook and the cheerful mature police officer. What a fabulous dynamic. Is the cook looking for a boyfriend or a Daddy, and do we care if it has the same result? It is filmed VERY manga style camp. I’m a little nervous about that, but this means it’s also very fluffy and so damn sweet. It made me squeak with the cute. I’m gutted this didn’t get distribution.

Ironic that Tawada Hideya is in a new BL while Sunspot is re-airing.

Cosmetic Playlover (Japan Tues Gaga) eps 3-4 of 8 - Ah, the gays are doubting the bisexual again. How familiar. I like how this one is paced and moving through time, even if the relationship seems to be going comparatively slowly by contrast. I love the way Sahashi is always looking at Natsume, even when they’re in conversation with someone else. Ah yearning. I think the conflict was kind of inevitable, given the two personalities of the protagonists, and I like that. (No manufactured angst here.) But I still hope they can repair the breach and I’m still interested. Frankly this is so classically Japan - I don’t know what story beats it’s following and I’m not entirely sure where it’s going, but I kinda like that unpredictability. Makes me think it could go into "must you, Japan?" territory but fingers crossed.

I Hear the Sunspot AKA Hidamari ga Kikoeru (Japan Weds Gaga) ep 9 of 10 - I'm enjoying it very much. I could do without the girl character. I know she’s more interesting than most (this is Japan after all), but she’s not really for me. It’s the complexity of the connection between the leads (and why they like each other) that’s being executed so brilliantly in this show (and in the manga, FYI). Both actors are so on point with their roles and the nuanced emotions required of these characters that every time it’s only them interacting I'm riveted. I could do without the rest of the cast tho.

Seoul Blues (Korea Fri? YouTube) ep 1 of 8 - I have a confession to make, I’ve been watching this whole series as it goes along. But this is the pair I absolutely like the most. I’m not sure I would necessarily recommend any of the installments, and I’m not sure how this one is going to go, but I’m VERY invested in this particular couple. They are so pretty!!!! This is a true friends-to-lovers struggle. I like that a lot. (Reminds me of I Cannot Reach You but a different dynamic.) Did I mention how pretty they are? And we already know they gonna kiss well. I bet the uncut version is stellar.

Meet You at the Blossom (China) - It's no one's funeral, turns out! Reports are in - not only are there kisses but it ends happily with wedding plans. So I'm eating crow, binging the fucker, and live blogging. I'm enjoying it. Ya'll know I adored Chinese BL before censorship. It has a certain unhinged quality I very much apreciate (and is the reason I'm so tolerant of the Thai pulps) that I think will marry well with Wuxia's effervescent and ever-present tropes. Watch me suffer here.

First Note Of Love (Taiwan Mon Gaga) eps 1-2 of 12 - About a singer with stage fright and his timid fan starring Charles (H4 the puppy one) and Michael Chang (the youngster in My Tooth Your Love), plus side couple featuring a Thai actor Jame (Koh in Gen Y) and Liu Min Ting (of Guardian fame). What a damn team. With their powers combined they are...

fine.

This is a fine BL. The fight scene was fun and I like the meet cute. I’m not sure about the chemistry of the leads, but I think they’ll probably do okay. I admit I’m struggling a bit with a singing and the music. Are you surprised? I think I like it enough, but I’m not wowed.

Takara's Treasure AKA Takara No Vidro (Japan Mon Gaga) ep 7 of 10 - Oh! Out of the blue attack kiss. What IS this show? I don’t get it at all. Bah. I guess they’re dating now. It’s… so odd...

It's airing but...

4 Minutes (Thai Netflix/Grey) - A rich boy at uni suddenly gains the supernatural power to see four minutes into the future. I have a source, but I've decided to hold off and binge if it ends okay, since it's only 8 eps. I depend upon y'all to tell me if it's safe.

8/16 The Last Time (Thai Fri YT) ? eps - Convoluted story of loss and possible reincarnation or something. Again delayed? Not sure what's going on with this one but the continued push-backs do not bode well.

In case you missed it

The Time of Fever AKA Unintentional Love Story 2 (Korea movie) trailer IS COMING IN SEPTEMBER!!!! (Yeah this is gonna sit here until then).

Next Week Looks Like This:

Upcoming BLs for 2024 are listed here. This list is not kept updated, so please leave a comment if you know something new or RP with additions.

Still Coming This Month!

8/22 The On1y One (Taiwan Thurs Gaga) 12 eps - announced in 2023 this one has a high school set stepbrothers trope and is reputed to be high heat. From Taiwan! It's made for me. Based on a novel Mou Mou from the Your Name Engraved Herein folks, so it could go dark. Still, I'm very excited.

8/22 The Paradise of Thorns (Thai movie) theater release - Jeff Satur is back but this does not look like a BL (the gay lover's death is the inciting event). More in Goodbye Mother vein. Looks dark and dramatic. He opposite and extremely well known actor Toey Pongsakorn who has never done gay before.

THIS WEEK’S BEST MOMENTS

WHY IS HE SO FINE?

I truly belly laughed. Sam & Yo did not go in the direction I expected, but this scene alone made me not mind that they curtailed the suffering Sam was rightfully due. (SunsetXVibes)

Tall boyfriend armpit, anyone? (Monster Next Door)

The two extremes of BL in one show (Long Beans indeed).

(Last week)

Streaming services are listed by how I (usually) watch, which is with a USA based IP, and often offset by a day because time zones are a pain.

The tag BLigade: @doorajar @solitaryandwandering @my-rose-tinted-glasses @babymbbatinygirl @babymbbatinygirl @isisanna-blog @mmastertheone @pickletrip @aliceisathome @urikawa-miyuki @tokillamonger @sunflower-positiiivity @rocketturtle4 @blglplus @anythinggoesintheshire @everlightly @renafire @mestizashinrin @bl-bam-beyond @small-dark-and-delicious @saezurumurmurs

Sigh, Tumblr in its infinite wisdom doesn't like too many tags.

[inkmonster21]

Who’s the kid?

Billy Butcher x Fem!reader

You walk down the street, a little 4-year-old at your side grasping your hand tightly. Her purple backpack swung with each step. This little girl was the spitting image of Butcher.

Butcher is frozen on the other side of the street. Eyes wide as he stares at the child. He hadn’t seen you in 5 years. His eyes follow the little girl who looks almost 5.

Could it be?

You smiled down at your daughter. It was definitely you. No doubting that. Butcher stood stock still, jaw agape at the image before him. He watched as the little girl looked up at you and giggled as you smiled down at her.

His eyes darted back and forth between you and the child. “What are you looking at?” Hughie asks following his gaze. Butcher glances at Hughie and grumbles something under his breath, his gaze returning to you and the girl. He tries to come up with an explanation as to why he is staring, but he comes up short.

“Is that the supe?” Hughie asks again. Butcher shakes his head, still watching you and the little girl walk down the opposite side of the street.

“No.” He mutters, taking an involuntary step forward. Butcher couldn’t keep his eyes off the child. She looked so much like him, from her jawline, her nose, her eyes.

Butcher starts walking after you and the child. His eyes never left the child’s face, his gaze locked onto her every feature.

Hughie calls after him, confused and worried, but Butcher doesn’t hear him, too distracted by the possibility that the little girl could be his.

You waited at the crosswalk, on your way home. Butcher continued stalking after you, getting closer as you guys stood at the light waiting to cross.

His heart was racing, he could feel his pulse in his head. He wanted a closer look at the child before he said anything. His eyes scanned over the child, searching for something, anything that would confirm his suspicions.

He saw something. It was faint, but it was there. A hint of something in her facial structure. A hint of him.

“Oi!” Butcher yells.

Your eyes snap to look at him, and Butcher is surprised at how much you haven’t changed. You freeze as his eyes flick briefly down to the child before snapping back up to you.

“We need to talk.” He says, keeping his voice relatively low as he steps closer to you, his eyes darting over your shoulder to the child.

“Billy.”

His breath hitches at the sound of his name coming from between your lips. After years of not seeing you, hearing you say his name nearly knocked the air out of his lungs.

He continues to stare at you, searching your face, trying to find some sign of confirmation before he says anything else.

You wait for him, unsure of what to say. You’d never thought you’d see him again. At least that’s what Mallory Grace promised you.

He looks at you for a moment longer, then suddenly his eyes drop back down to the child. He couldn’t take it anymore. He had to know. “Who’s the kid?” He asks, his voice a bit gruff, as he glances back up at you.

Before you could say anything your daughter, as friendly as she is, took it upon herself to introduce herself. She stood up straight with a bright smile. “My name is Bailey.”

Butcher’s eyes widen slightly when she speaks and a shiver runs down his spine. This little girl's voice sounded *exactly* like his. There was no denying it now.

He looked back up and stared at you, his gaze intense. He wanted an explanation, but he knew getting one in front of the child probably wasn’t a good idea.

You sigh and grab Bailey’s hand pulling her back. “Honey, don’t talk to strangers.” You mumbled to her.

Butcher stares down at you. “My apartment is a block away.” You meet his eyes. “We can talk there.”

He holds your gaze for a moment before nodding silently and looking away. He knew you were right, it wasn’t a good idea to have this conversation in public, on the street where there were so many people and so many ears.

Hughie, who had been following behind, looked between the two of you with concern, his expression asking a hundred questions at once.

You begin to travel a short distance to the apartment. Your daughter of course making small talk with the two men. “You like the wiggles?” She asks with a bright smile. Hughie grins at the little girl and nods, clearly entertained by her.

“Yeah, I do,” he replies.

Butcher, however, isn’t in such a good mood. His face is stoic and serious as the four of you approach your apartment. The closer you got the more and more anxious he became.

They unlocked the door, Bailey going in first. “Bailey, go to your room and play for a little bit, okay?” The little girl pouts at being sent to her room, but she does as she’s told anyway, disappearing into the apartment.

Butcher walks in after you, his shoulders tense. Now that the little girl was out of the way, he was free to get answers.

You place your keys and purse on the table and turn to Billy. “Hi.” You breathe out. You notice Hughie on the couch awkwardly. “Hi, nice to meet you.” You smile at him.

Hughie gives an awkward wave and a smile. “Yeah, hi,” he responds, shifting uncomfortably on the couch.

Butcher isn’t really paying attention to Hughie at all, his eyes are glued to you. He’s still in shock that he’s seeing you for the first time in 5 years, and the situation has his mind reeling.

“So, I’m assuming you have questions?” You look to Butcher. He runs a hand over his face and lets out a frustrated huff.

“Questions.” He says, his voice low. “Yeah, I have questions. A lot of them. But first, I need you to tell me something.”

He looks over his shoulder to make sure the little girl isn’t listening before he turns back and looks you directly in the eyes. He steps a bit closer to you, his eyes never leaving yours.

“Is she mine?” He finally says, his voice gruff and low but with a hint of desperation. You look at the framed photo of your daughter on the table. Every feature was his. A small smile works its way to your face. “Of course she’s yours, look at her.”

Butcher follows your gaze to the picture on the table. He studies the photo closely, taking in every inch of the little girl’s face.

He feels a thousand different emotions rush through him all at once. Joy, excitement, disbelief. And then, for a few seconds, anger.

It’s enough to make him speechless. He swallows hard, trying to find something to say, but nothing comes out of his mouth.

You turn to look at Hughie with a friendly smile. “Thirsty?” Poor kid. This is not what he signed up for when he woke up. Hughie looks up from his position on the couch and nods appreciatively.

“Yeah, a drink would be nice. Thanks,” he says, returning your smile. Meanwhile, Butcher remains silent, still reeling from the news that he was a father.

While you distribute the drinks, Butcher seems to have snapped out of his trance. He takes the water and drinks it all in one gulp, his mind is elsewhere.

Hughie watches him for a moment, concern written on his face. He could tell how hard this was hitting Butcher, but he didn’t dare say anything. “So… what are you doing here?” You ask, genuinely curious.

Butcher sets the empty cup down and runs a hand through his hair. He takes a deep breath, composing himself. "I'm here on business," he replies, his voice gruff but steady. “but, saw you and little one on the street. Couldn’t help but chase you down.”

Just by chance, Butcher found you. How lucky for him. His thoughts shifted back to the child. His child. The realization hit him all over again, and it was still just as shocking now as it was minutes ago.

“Grace told me I wouldn’t ever have to see your face again.” You scoff at the words. "Yeah, well, that was her mistake," Butcher says, a hint of anger in his voice. He wasn't happy to hear that Mallory had gone so far out of her way to make sure you never crossed paths with him again. Had she known of the child?

Your daughter comes racing out of her room. “Mommy, can I have a snack?” You smile and nod. Opening the cabinet in the kitchen and retrieving a cookie for her. He watches intently as you give the little girl a cookie. His gaze shifts between you and the child, taking in every little detail. He can't help but notice how natural it felt, you interact with the kid. Being a mother.

You pat her back. “Go on back to your room. Just for a little longer.” The little girl pouts again, clearly wanting to stay with you, but when you tell her to go back to her room, she obeys.

Butcher watches her go, disappearing into the opposite hallway. Silence descends on the three adults as she leaves. There is a beat of silence, the air in the room thick. Hughie looks between the two of you, clearly uncomfortable with the tension in the room.

Butcher shifts, taking another large gulp of water before he speaks.

“How old is she?” He asks, his voice low. “She's 4. She’ll be 5 in November.”

A four-year-old. He had missed four years of her life. Four years of her first steps, her first words, her first birthday, everything.

Butcher clenched his jaw, anger and regret welling up within him. “I assume you’re her only parent?” He asks gruffly. You raise your brow, wanting to push his buttons. “And if I wasn’t? What if I was married?” Butcher’s expression darkened at the idea of you married to someone else. The idea of someone else raising his child, being a part of her life, made him sick.

But he didn’t want to give you the satisfaction of knowing it was bothering him.

“Are you?” He asked a hint of sarcasm in his tone. “Maybe.” You shrug dragging it on.

Butcher clenches his jaw, his teeth practically grinding together. He knew you were just saying it to annoy him, but damn it, it was working. The idea of you having a life with someone else, someone else raising his child, made his blood boil.

But he didn't want to let you know just how much it was affecting him.

He took a deep breath, trying to maintain his composure.

“Is that so?” he responded, his tone biting. “He’d be one sorry son of a bitch wouldn’t he?” You couldn’t help but draw out the last words he’d said to you years ago. Butcher lets out a huff, clearly frustrated with you. His hands clenched into fists at his sides as you repeated his old words back to him.

He knew you were doing it to get a rise out of him, and it was working.

“You know, you haven’t changed a bit, have you?” He grumbled, his voice low.

You smirk with a glare in your eyes. “Looks like you haven’t either. Did you say business? What business? Killing supes? Hm?” Butcher's lips curled into a scowl as you brought up his work. He knew you were judging him, but what right did you have? He was just doing what needed to be done.

“Yeah, supe killing.” He said gruffly, holding your gaze. “What about it?”

“How’s that going for you?”

Butcher's eyes narrow at your question. He didn't like your tone, the way you were poking at him, as if his work was somehow inferior.

“It’s going just fine, thank you very much.” He snaps back. “How’s raising my kid been going for you?” You look down the hall in fear of her listening. You jab a finger into Butcher’s chest. “Shut the fuck up.”

Butcher's jaw clenches as you jab your finger against his chest. He doesn’t like being told what to do, especially not by you.

“Don’t tell me what to do.” He snaps. “You don’t get to tell me how to act. You gave up that right when you walked away.” You scoffed. “Me? Don’t act like you’re not the one who told me how awful I was. How it was all my fault. I wanted to talk about it. Work it out. Butcher, you packed the bag. You left.”

Butcher's face darkened at your words. He knew you were right, but he refused to admit it. He didn’t want to give you the satisfaction of being right.

He takes a step closer, his voice growing louder. “Don’t play the victim. You were no angel either. You always knew what I did, what my job was. You chose to be with me anyway. Don’t act like you didn't play a part in this mess.”

“No, but when it got too messy and I wanted out, you chose to not join me. You left and I went and found safety. For me. For my daughter.” Butcher lets out a scoff, his face screwed up in anger.

“You found safety?” He says, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Safety? You think it was safe for you to run off without a word? You think it was safe for you to leave me hanging, not knowing where the hell you were? Do you have any idea what that did to me?”

Butcher clenched his fists tightly as the memories came back to him. The argument, the shouting, the hurt.

His eyes darkened as he thought about it all. “I went back for you, you know. After everything, after all the things I said in the heat of the moment, I went back to your place. I wanted to make things right.”

He looks you in the eyes, his expression cold. “And what did I find? Nothing. You were already gone.”

You look at him in shock. “You came back?” Butcher nods, his jaw tense. “Yeah.” He responds gruffly. “I did. I went back to your place, ready to apologize, to try and fix things. But when I got there, you were gone. You’d packed up your things and left without a word. I had no idea where you’d gone if you were even okay. I had no way of reaching you. I was a damn wreck.”

He lets out a huff, his eyes never leaving yours.

“Mommy?” Your daughter’s voice draws out from her door. Butcher’s gaze shifts from you to your daughter, who is peeking out from her bedroom door.

He studies her, watching the way she clung to the wall, her eyes wide and curious. He had only been around her for a few minutes and it was already painfully clear that this little girl had him wrapped around her finger. Butcher smiles softly at her. “Sorry, love. I didn’t mean to get loud.”

It's a sight that makes your heart skip a beat. Watching this big, rough, tough man suddenly become soft and gentle as soon as he sees the little girl.

She peaks out at the three of you, her eyes bouncing between you and Butcher. She can tell there was tension in the air and it makes her uneasy.

She was observant, too observant for her good at times.

Butcher watches her as she takes in the situation, noticing the way her gaze flickers between you and himself. He could tell that she was picking up on the tension, the anger between the two of you.

She looks to Butcher “Why are you and my mommy fighting?” Butcher's expression softens as he looks down at the little girl. He doesn’t want to say anything that might scare her or upset her.

“We're not fighting, love.” He says gently, a small smile on his face. “We’re just talking about some grown-up stuff.” She places her hands on her hips. “Well, I’m very mature.”

Butcher lets out a soft chuckle. “Oh you are, are you?” he replies, a hint of amusement in his voice.

He can’t help but be charmed by her attitude. She was sassy, just like you, and it was hard to resist her. She nods “And if you even try to hurt my mommy I’ll hurt you first, you cunt!” Bailey says (an obvious answer her father would make). You stare at her wide-eyed. “Bailey Lenn, absolutely no cursing!”

Butcher can't help but suppress a laugh at the little girl's comment. The words were so far out in the wrong place coming out of such an innocent mouth.

He glances at you, noticing the shock and mild irritation etched on your face. He can't help but find it a little endearing that she was already defending you with such a fierce attitude.

“Room. Now.”

The little girl pouts, clearly not happy with being told to go to her room again. She looks between you and Butcher with a scowl on her face, refusing to move.

Butcher can't help but chuckle at her antics. He's never seen anyone so stubborn and defiant who was also so tiny.

The little girl glares at you, her arms crossed stubbornly.

She clearly didn’t want to go to her room again.

Butcher watches the scene, amused by her defiance. He can see the resemblance, the same stubborn streak that had both driven him mad and made him fall for you in the first place.

She points at Billy with a suspicious look, “who’s he?”

Butcher glances down at the little girl and chuckles, amused by her directness.

"I'm an old friend of your mum’s," he replies, his voice gruff but gentle. “Bailey, honey, please. Go to your room.”

The little girl continues to pout, her eyes darting back and forth from you to Butcher.

She clearly didn’t want to leave. But seeing your stern expression, she knew she had no choice.

With a small huff of annoyance, she finally turns around and stomps off towards her room.

You look at Butcher. He deserves the chance. “Billy, it’s your call if we tell her or not. But if you do, you promise me one thing.” Butcher glances down the hallway, watching the child disappear into her room before he turns his attention back to you.

He takes a deep breath, processing the situation and the decision at hand.

"Alright." He says gruffly. "What?” “You can’t just forget about her. She becomes a priority.” Butcher nods, a serious expression on his face. "Of course."

He knows that if he is going to be a part of the little girl's life, it is an all or nothing situation. There was no halfway.

He takes a step closer, a determined look in his eyes. "I'd never forget about her. You have my word." Given it wouldn’t be the most normal family dynamic, he’d be there when he could.

A mix of emotions crosses Butcher's face as he realizes what this means. He was agreeing to take on the responsibility of being a father, to be a part of the child's life.

He looks down the hallway at the little girl's door and then back to you. He takes another deep breath, steeling himself for what is to come.

"We're doing this then?" He asks, his voice gruff. You shrug, “Only if you want to.”

"Yeah," Butcher says, his expression is stern and serious. He takes another glance down the hallway before looking back at you.

"Let's do it."

He steps forward, ready to make his way down the hallway to the little girl's room. But before he does, he hesitates, turning back to look at you.

You opened the door to your daughter’s room. “Bailey, baby. I need to talk to you about something important.” The little girl was sitting on her bed, still visibly upset at being sent to her room. But as you entered the room, her expression softened.

"What is it, mommy?" She asks, her voice a little whiny.

You sat on her bed and moved her so she was sitting on your lap. You moved her dark hair out of her face. “This is my friend, Billy.” Butcher stood in the doorway, watching the two of you intently. He could feel the nerves rising in the back of his throat but tried to keep his cool.

The little girl's eyes darted over to him, taking in his appearance. "Friend?" She asks, the question directed at you. "Yes, honey. A very old friend." You say, placing a comforting hand on the little girl's back. You take a deep breath, mentally preparing yourself for what you're about to say.

The little girl's eyes dart back and forth between you and Butcher, her curious expression still on her face. The tension in the room is thick as you work up the courage to say the words. The little girl looks between you and Butcher again, sensing that something important is about to happen.

Butcher stands there, a mix of anxiety and anticipation on his face. He can feel his heart beating faster as he waits for you to speak.

“You know how I always said how your daddy was out saving the world?” The little girl nods, her expression suddenly more serious. She leans in a bit closer, clearly interested in what you are about to say next. You look to Butcher with a smile. “Well, he got a little break. Just to meet you.” You smile at her.

The little girl's eyes widen with surprise, her mouth forming a small 'o' shape. She looks back and forth between you and Butcher, processing the new information.

Butcher holds his breath, waiting for her reaction. The little girl's reaction was so enthusiastic, it caught both of you off guard. She was suddenly so full of energy and excitement, bouncing up and down on your lap.

"Daddy?" She asks, her eyes locked on Butcher. Butcher couldn't help but let out a small smile at her excitement. He had expected many reactions, but this was not one of them.

He takes a step closer, his heart racing as he crouches down to be closer to her eye level.

"Yeah, love. That's right." He says softly, a hint of nervousness in his voice. She doesn’t waste a second wrapping her tiny arms around his neck. Butcher is taken aback by her sudden display of affection, his eyes widening in surprise. But quickly, he relaxes, allowing himself to be pulled into her embrace.

He hesitates for a moment before his arms slowly come up to wrap around her, holding her close.

You couldn’t help but smile. You felt her heart clench. Butcher was addictive. Being away from him for so long you thought you’d built up some self-control, but with the sight of him and your daughter. You couldn’t help but fall for him all over again.

The little girl clings to him like a koala, her small arms wrapped tightly around his neck, her legs wrapped around his middle.

Butcher lets out a soft chuckle, gently patting her back. "You're awfully clingy, aren't you?" He says, unable to hide the affection in his voice. “Deal with it” the child mumbled. Butcher laughs a rich and hearty chuckle that fills the room. He glances up at you, a small smirk on his face.

"She's got a real smart mouth on her, hasn't she?" He says, a hint of pride in his voice. “Your kid.” You smile at him.

A smile tugs at the corner of Butcher's lip as he hears your words. He looks down at the little girl in his arms, her small head resting on his shoulder.

"Is that so?" He says, his voice gruff but affectionate. "I guess that means we've got our work cut out for us, huh?"

You smile at him and nod. You didn’t want to let yourself fall. But you could already feel your heart swell.

Butcher returns your smile, a small, private moment between the two of you. He could feel the walls around his heart starting to crumble, the barriers he had put up slowly crumbling in the face of your presence.

He looks down at the little girl in his arms, then back up at you. A thousand unspoken words and apologies hung in the air.

So it worked like this for a while. 6 months in fact. Butcher would make the trip to spend the weekends with you. And if he missed one, he was sure to stay an extra day to make up for lost time. It was an oddly domestic situation, and one that neither of you could have foreseen. But slowly, the routine became familiar and comfortable.

Butcher made sure to come by every weekend without fail. He would arrive early in the morning and stay until late in the evening, filling your home with his presence and his laughs.

He would spend his time playing with the little girl, teaching her things, or just holding her in his arms and watching her sleep. Every weekend felt like another step forward, another layer peeled back.

You were cooking dinner one night when your daughter spoke. “Do you love mommy?” She asked Butcher as they sat on the couch. The air froze in the apartment.

The question caught Butcher off guard, the bluntness of the little girl's words shocking him. He tensed up, his hand stilling on the little girl's back.

He wasn't expecting to be put on the spot like that by a 5-year-old, and his brain went into overdrive trying to figure out how to respond.

I spoke for him. “Mommy and Daddy are friends, honey. We care about each other like good friends.” Butcher is grateful for your interjection, saving him from having to come up with an answer to the little girl's question.

He nods along with what you say, a small sigh of relief escaping his lips. But deep down, he knows the situation is more complicated than the explanation you had given.

Your heart was beating a million miles per hour. You stare at the spaghetti sauce. Did you love him? Yes. Deeply. Would you let him know that? No.

As you stood in the kitchen, your heart racing and your mind in turmoil, the little girl's question echoed in your head.

You knew the truth, but the words wouldn't come out. You couldn't betray the walls you had built up around your heart, the walls that had protected you for years.

But as you stirred the pasta sauce, you couldn't help but steal glances at Butcher and your daughter on the couch. The sight of them together tugged at your heartstrings, causing a wave of emotions to wash over you.

As you ate dinner Bailey told stories of her day from kindergarten. Butcher listened intently as the little girl spoke, his eyes lit up with a soft smile as he watched her animated expressions and hand gestures. He was genuinely invested in her stories, hanging on her every word.

He would interject with a question or comment here and there, keeping the conversation flowing. It was clear to anyone watching that he was completely smitten with her.

You were so caught up in watching them, daydreaming of a world where you and Butcher would be married. Maybe have another little one running around. Every day without worry of someone coming for him. As you daydream, the image of a future life with Butcher and the little girl plays out in your mind like a home movie. You could almost hear the sound of laughter and carefree innocence in the air.

You imagined the warmth of his embrace, the sound of his voice whispering sweet nothings in your ear as you watched the little ones play.

But the fantasy faded as quickly as it had come, the harsh reality of the world outside your door coming crashing down on you like a cold shower.

“Mommy?” You snap out of your daydream at the sound of the little girl's voice, her small voice pulling you back to reality.

Your eyes refocus and you look down at her, a slight flush creeping up your cheeks at the thought of getting caught up in your thoughts.

"Yes, honey?" You reply, trying to hide your temporary distraction. “You okay?” You swallow, realizing that the little girl has noticed your momentary absence. You quickly plaster on a smile, brushing off her concern.

"Yeah, sweetie, I'm fine. Just got a little lost in thought for a moment." You reach over and ruffle her hair affectionately, hoping that she wouldn't pry further.

Butcher takes note of your momentary distraction and he can't help but worry. He knew you too well and could tell that something was off.

He studies you, his eyes scanning your face for a moment before he speaks up.

"You sure you're alright?" He asks, his voice gruff but filled with concern. “Yep.” You say to quickly move on from the conversation.

Butcher is not convinced by your quick reply, but he lets it slide for now. He can tell you're not in the mood to talk about it right now.

Still, he keeps a watchful eye on you throughout the rest of dinner, silently promising to bring it up later.

You clean up, wash dishes, and pack up the leftovers in a Tupperware container. You open her planner and notice a field trip permission slip. Vought Land. You scoff with a small smile. Next to the name on the slip were the volunteered guardians set to go on the trip.

You sign off on the slip and put the planner back in her book bag. You sit on the couch taking a minute to relax for the first time this evening.

You settle onto the couch, finally giving yourself a moment to relax for the first time that evening.

It's been a long day, but the sight of Butcher sitting in the armchair opposite you, his rough exterior softened by the presence of your daughter, brings a sense of comfort.

You can't help but steal a glance at him every now and then, admiring the way he interacts with the little girl.

“It’s almost bedtime, Bailey.” The little girl lets out a dramatic sigh, as if being expected to go to bed was the worst thing that could happen to her.

But when she turns her eyes to you and Butcher, she sees both of you watching her expectantly. With another sigh, she wraps her arms around Butcher’s neck. “Love you, daddy.” He kissed her head. With another sigh, she reluctantly climbs off the couch and heads towards her bedroom.

As she disappears into the hallway, Butcher lets out a small chuckle. "Feisty little thing, isn't she?" You laugh as you follow her to her room. “She gets that from you, ya know?”

He watches as you enter the little girl's room, his eyes following your every move. You put Bailey to sleep and exit to the living room again. Now fully relaxed as your night winds down to close. You emerge from the little girl's room, feeling a sense of calm wash over you as you return to the living room.

Butcher is still sitting in the armchair, looking relaxed and at ease. He glances up as you enter, his eyes meeting yours as if he'd been expecting you to return at any moment.

You expect him to start gathering his things and preparing to head out for the night, but he doesn’t make a move to get up. Instead, he remains in the armchair, his eyes fixed on you.

The evening has reached its typical breaking point where he would usually leave, but for some reason, he stays seated. You look at him. “You okay?” Curious as to why he was still sticking around.

Butcher gives a small shrug and a casual smirk. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just feeling a bit relaxed, I guess."

He runs a hand through his hair, his eyes still fixed on you. There's a slight hesitation in his movements as if he has something more to say but is hesitant to get the words out. As well as he knows you, You know him better. “Something on your mind, Butcher?”

Butcher's smile falters a bit as you call him out on his hesitation. He can never hide anything from you, no matter how hard he tries.

He takes a moment before speaking, his voice lowering a bit. "Yeah, actually."

He pauses, looking up at you with that intense stare of his as if debating what to say. You sit up brows furrowed. “What is it?” Butcher takes a deep breath before finally confessing what's on his mind. "I've been having a hard time leaving lately."

He pauses, his gaze lingering on you for a moment before he continues. "I hate leaving every weekend. Feels like I'm ripping myself away from you two every goddamn time."

You watch him as he speaks. His words sank in. You knew Bailey hated not being able to see him regularly, but what were you supposed to do? Move with him? You’d be putting Bailey right into the arms of danger. You sigh, “I know. I feel the same. It’s not fair to Bailey.”

Butcher lets out a heavy sigh of his own, acknowledging the unfairness of the situation.

"I know," he agrees, his voice tinged with frustration. "That little girl deserves better than this. She deserves to have me around every day, not just weekends."

He runs a hand through his hair again, his expression filled with a mixture of anger, sadness, and helplessness.

“What do you want me to do, Butcher?” You ask honestly. Butcher looks at you, his eyes filled with a mixture of frustration and desperation.

"I don't know," he admits with a hint of anger in his voice. "I want to be here with you and the little girl. I wanna wake up every morning and see your faces. I want to come home every night and know I'm not alone."

He clenches his jaw, the struggle to find an answer to your question etched across his face. As Butcher gets closer, the tension in the room thickens. Every word he says, every step he takes closer to you, causes the cord to tighten.

"But I don't know how to make that happen. I can't ask you to follow me, knowing the danger I'm in every damn day."

He comes to a stop directly in front of you, so close that you can feel the heat emanating from his body. The air is heavy with tension as you look up at him, your heart clenching in your chest. You had known deep down that falling for him was a real danger, but you let yourself hope for a life that seemed too good to be true.

You want to reach out and touch him, to bring him closer and never let go. But you resist the urge, knowing all too well the reality of the situation. The space between you and Butcher is almost non-existent, the proximity intoxicating and addictive. He stands mere inches from you, his eyes searing into yours, his chest rising and falling with each ragged breath.

His hands twitch at his sides as if fighting the urge to reach out and pull you into his arms. As Butcher's hands land on your hips, a shiver runs down your spine, the touch of his rough fingers sending sparks through your body.

He draws you closer, bridging the already small gap between you, until your bodies are pressed against each other.

His voice is a deep, gravelly whisper as he speaks, his eyes locked onto yours. "I need you." You shake your head, placing his hands on his chest. “No, you don’t. You’re just… comfortable.”

Butcher bristles at your words, annoyance flitting across his face at your attempt to push him away.

"That's bullshit and you know it," he growls, his grip on your hips firming as he refuses to let you pull away.

"It's not comfort I'm after," he continues, his voice low and intense. "It's you. You goddamn stubborn, beautiful, infuriating woman." “But it can’t happen, Billy.” You peel yourself away from him. “We can’t do this. Having you in Bailey’s life is fine. It’s great!” You sigh, “we can’t ruin it, by acting on old feelings.”

Butcher scowls as you pull away, his hands falling to his sides. He can feel the sting of rejection, the frustration and disappointment heavy in his chest.

"Acting on old feelings? Is that all we are? Some old, forgotten memory?" he snaps, his anger momentarily flaring at your words.

He takes a step towards you, his eyes glued to yours. "I love you, goddamnit. I never stopped. And don't tell me you don't feel the same. I know you do." Once again you shake your head. “Billy, please. Don’t do this now.”

Butcher's frustration mounts with your refusal to acknowledge the truth between you two. He steps even closer, towering over you, his jaw clenched tightly.

"Why not now?! When the hell else are we supposed to talk about this, huh?" he snaps, his voice a mix of anger and desperation.

He reaches out, grabbing your arm, his grip almost bordering on pain. "You're just gonna ignore what's been going on between us all week? Pretend like nothing's changed?" You fire back. “Yes! Because I can’t do it. I can’t just worry about you day and night. I can’t sit in bed at 3 am wondering if you’ve been shot or taken.” Tears fill your eyes.

Your words hit Butcher like a punch to the gut. The pain and worry in your voice pierces through his anger, making him falter momentarily.

He swallows, his jaw clenching tighter as he fights the wave of emotions threatening to overcome him.

"You think I don't worry about you all the goddamn time?" he retorts, his voice hoarse with emotion. "I know it's not safe for me to be in your life, but I can't stay away. Not when I've finally found something good in this miserable existence."

In an instant, the pent-up frustration and suppressed desire explode into action, and Butcher surges forward, capturing your lips in a searing kiss.

His hands grip your hips, pulling you flush against him as he pours all his longing and frustration into the kiss. He kisses you with a desperate intensity as if trying to convey all the emotions he's held back for years. For a brief, beautiful moment, you give in to your heart's desire. You allow yourself to return his kiss with equal passion and fervor, your body arching into his embrace.

His hands slide up your back, pulling you tighter against him as the kiss deepens. He can taste the bittersweet desperation on your lips, and it only fuels his hunger for more.

The ringing of Butcher's phone cuts through the moment like a knife, bringing the reality of the situation crashing back down on you both.

He reluctantly breaks the kiss, a string of curses slipping from his lips as he fishes the phone out of his pocket.

He glances at the screen and sighs, his jaw clenching as he sees who's calling. As he looks at the screen, he lets out a weary sigh and says, "It's M.M."

The sight of the caller ID brings back the harsh reality of his life. It serves as yet another reminder that his life and yours just don't mesh.

He hesitates for a moment, then pockets the phone, ignoring the call. He turns back to you, a mixture of resignation and disappointment in his eyes. You shake your head, “take the call, Butcher. They need you, and you know it.”

Your words hit a raw nerve in Butcher. He knows deep down that you're right, that the people on the other end of that phone call need him.

He sighs heavily, his shoulders slumping a bit. "You're right," he says, his voice a mix of resignation and frustration.

He fishes the phone back out and answers it without hesitating. "Yeah, M.M. What is it?" “Where are you?” M.M.’s voice asked. Butcher glances over at you, his expression a mixture of annoyance and exhaustion as he answers.

"Just...busy. What do you need?" he mutters into the phone, his tone making it clear he'd rather be anywhere but on this call. With an almost resigned sigh, Butcher ends the call and shoves the phone back into his pocket.

He looks at you for a moment, his eyes filled with a mix of regret and determination. "I gotta go," he says gruffly.

He hesitates for a moment, as if wanting to say more, but ultimately refrains. He glances in the direction of the little girl's room, his gut twisting with a pang of guilt. You don’t offer him a goodbye. “Lock the door on your way out.” You say as you walk down the hall to your bedroom.

Butcher bristles at your cold dismissal, his jaw clenching tightly.

He watches as you walk away, his eyes following your every step, his heart a jumble of conflicting emotions. He wants to say something, to cross the distance between you and pull you back into his arms.

But ultimately, he knows it's no use. He's not wanted here, not in the way he wants to be.

With a nod, he murmurs, "Right," and turns to head out, locking the door behind him.

~

Part two anyone?

CLICK HERE

[kenzlovesyou]

could you write something about you and Caitlins families being very close in high school and ur relationship growing from there?

ur idea is so cute! i’m so sorry it took me so long to get to it, i hope i executed it well!

Every Season - Caitlin Clark x Reader

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Yours’ and Caitlin’s family had been friends for many years. The two of you had grown up neighbors, as your moms were best friends and it was their lifelong dream of living next door to each other. You remember when you were little, always going over to Caitlin’s house or her coming over to yours. Caitlin was your best friend in the entire world. The two of you did everything together. There wasn’t one day in the past 10 years that you hadn’t seen Caitlin.

When you and Caitlin hit your junior year of high school, time seemed to start moving too fast for your liking. It was a cold winter morning and you buttoned up the last button on your coat. With that done, you grabbed your bag and walked out the front door. Caitlin was there waiting for you in her car. That was the deal. As soon as one of you could, you would get your license and drive the other around. Caitlin, being 4 months older, had begrudgingly agreed on getting hers and now she was your personal chauffeur. You got into the car and went to buckle your seatbelt, “Morning, Cait,” you said to her absentmindedly, more focused on finding the buckle. Caitlin groaned as she took the buckle from your hand and did it for you.

“Y/n! Why’d you have to run late today of all days? I’m tireddd and I wanted to get coffee!” You knew she was halfway joking about her level of disappointment, but you still had an idea on how to help her feel better. “What if,” you started, “we just went now? We can skip first if you want?” You smiled at her expectantly.

Caitlin just stared back at you with a smirk. “When did you become such a bad girl, Y/n?” You wondered yourself where that idea had come from. You were always wondering where the sudden heat was coming from.

Caitlin drove you two to the drive thru window of a chain Coffee shop, and ordered for you both. She hadn’t even asked what you wanted. You always got the same thing, and she’d had it memorized ever since you started drinking coffee. You got your drinks and Caitlin pulled around to a parking space in the lot so you could hangout and drink them.

You stared at her as you sipped your ice coffee, taking in how her brown eyes sparkled more and more as the sun rose higher in the sky. You nearly choked on the caramel tasting drink as her hand reached down to grab your free one.

“Y’know I’m really glad you suggested this, Y/n. We haven’t spent much time together lately. Honestly I’ve missed this,” Caitlin stared at you with those sparkling eyes that you were just staring at a minute ago. ‘When did she get this..hot?’ You thought to yourself. Perhaps you were just delirious from lack of sleep. That was the only logical explanation. How else could it be then that you had known Caitlin all your life and never noticed her beauty in that way before?

Spring break of that same year, your parents plan a family camping trip with the Clark’s. The car ride is long and bumpy, but you don’t complain one bit because you think that you’d endure a lot more than a bumpy road trip if it meant you could spend time with your best friend. Your family pulled up to the campsite and you hopped out of the car. Caitlin’s family was already there and had done the majority of the unpacking and setting up camp already.

Caitlin sees you and jogs over to you. “Hey you.” She wore her usual smirk on her face. “Hey yourself,” you say back as you wrap your arms around her in a hug.

Sure, you two had always been a bit touchy, having known each other for so long, but you and Caitlin had found a new comfort in each other lately. From Caitlin having her arm protectively draped over your shoulder, to laying her head on your shoulder, to you rubbing her back after a long practice, the two of you had definitely grown more comfortable expressing your affection physically.

Caitlin grabbed your duffel bag off your shoulder and slung it over her own and led you to a tent. “I thought we could share one, and Colin and Blake could share with your brother. Is that cool with you?”

You had definitely been cool with that. In fact you were more than cool with it. You weren’t sure why, but the thought of alone time with Caitlin had made you feel so special lately. Like, wow! Caitlin wanted to spend time with you. Just you.

The summer before your senior year was when you really felt a change in yours and Caitlin’s relationship dynamic. You two were much more physical, and were hanging out even more than you already had been before. You’d stay after school to watch her practices, and after she’d drive you home. She’d go in your room with you, and the two of you would study together. Since she lived just next door, she wouldn’t even bother going home most of the time and would just sleepover with you.

It was another day just like that. You stayed after school to watch Caitlin’s practice, a particularly hard one at that, and watched as Caitlin slowly got more and more upset at the shots she was missing. Each time she missed, she huffed and looked away from you. She was embarrassed to be missing this much. After practice, her overall mood was still pretty low. She grabbed her bag and your arm and pulled you directly outside and to her car, not staying and chatting with her teammates for a couple minutes like she usually did. She sighed as she got into the drivers seat and banged her head on the steering wheel.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” You could tell she seemed like she wanted to cry. You looked up at her face and saw her eyes were glassy. “Cait, there’s nothing wrong with you!” You reached up to wipe her tears and you pulled her upper body to you and she stretched over the console. It wasn’t the most comfortable position, but you had hoped it would pose as some sort of comfort for the poor girl. “You are amazing and I love watching you play! Trust me, someday everyone’s gonna know who Caitlin Clark is” Caitlin chuckled and looked up at you from her head’s place on your shoulder. She admired how sweet you always were to her, you never yelled at her or made fun of her for crying like she knew her coaches or teammates could have done. You had always been her safe place, her place to run to whenever she was upset and needed comfort you. She saw comfort and you as synonymous. But lately, things seemed different. Had you been more sweet lately? Had you gotten prettier? Funnier? Caitlin wasn’t sure what it was, but now she had constantly felt a surge of emotion whenever she was around it. It was addicting to her, and she couldn’t get enough of it. It took over her mind and her thoughts so much to the point that she almost forgot how upset she was over her bad practice.

“Cait? Is everything ok?” You looked down at her.

“Everything’s perfect now. Thank you Y/n.” Caitlin smiled at you and resisted every urge not to kiss your lips that seemed to be taunting her.

Fast forward to summer, you and Caitlin had both committed to Iowa. Her for basketball and you for Caitlin. Your actual major was not Caitlin, but instead psychology. You could’ve studied it anywhere, so why not alongside your lover best friend? The two of you got a little apartment together, and you were somewhat happy.

You’d gotten what you wanted; to be with Caitlin. So why was it so painful for you to be around her now? Why did she feel so close and yet so far away all at the same time. You wondered if you could stay happy simply playing house with Caitlin, never making a move, but you knew that wasn’t the case. It was eating you alive.

Sure, she could feel the same. But what if she didn’t? What if she didn’t even like girls like that? Or worse. What if she did like girls and she just didn’t like you. That would be an even harder pill to swallow. You had always admired Caitlin’s ambitious spirit. For as long as you’d known her, she always worked hard to get what she wanted. Surely you could do the same and take of leap of faith for her.

Tears filled your eyes as the thoughts of possible rejection entered your mind. They encapsulated you so much that you didn’t even notice Caitlin walk in. She saw you on the couch curled up in a ball and was instantly confused. ‘Why hadn’t you called her and told her you were upset?’ She wondered to herself. She knows she would’ve came to see you at the drop of a hat.

“Y/n. Y/n, what’s wrong? Talk to me, it’s going to be okay. Come here, baby.” ‘Shit.’ Caitlin thought to herself. Had she really just called her best friend baby? Sure you were a little baby in her eyes, but you weren’t her baby.

“You’re my best friend, Caitlin. You’re my best friend and I’m so scared.” Caitlin immediately read you like a book. Was this you being the bravest girl in the world and breaking the invisible line of attraction that had been drawn between the two of you.

“Y/n. Shhhh. I love you. I love you so much you’ve gotta be my soulmate. I know it’s scary for us to admit it but honestly there’s nobody I would rather risk anything for.”

Your tears quickly dried and you wiped your nose. You saw Caitlin pouring her heart out to you and knew you had her in the palm of your hand. “Ohhhh. That’s great and all Cait, but I meant I was scared for my chem final coming up.”

The look on Caitlin’s face was priceless. “Fuck.” was all she could muster and stared blankly at the wall, contemplating every life decision. You started cackling uncontrollably, “Oh my god, Caitlin! I’m joking!” All she could do was scowl at you, then she got a bright idea herself. “Really? Prove it then.” You rolled your eyes at her, “Gladly,” and you pulled her in for a sweet kiss. It was soft and supple and you never wanted it to end; this kiss had to be like 18 years in the making. That first kiss, that was when you made the promise to yourself that now that you had Caitlin you wouldn’t let anything come between the two of you. She was yours, and you were hers. That was how it was meant to be, no matter the season of life you were in. You would always have Caitlin.

[diamond-champagne]

4. I Lost You

Paige Bueckers x Azzi Fudd

Warnings: Slightly suggestive

A/N: Thank you so much for the support <3 This chapter is a bit choppy as it is a filler but I hope it provides clarity for the chapters to come! As always, feedback is always welcome! Enjoy. :)

The next few days fly by as far as Paige is concerned. She spends it going through the motions. Before she knows it, she’s making arrangements to go home for Thanksgiving. It’ll be the first time in years that Paige is only going home to Minneasota. She won’t be heading to Virginia to visit Azzi and her family. Riley would be going home with her this year. The thought makes her want to vomit.

The younger girl hasn’t asked her about her plans for break. In fact, they haven’t seen each other outside of practice. It’s a strange reality for Paige because she never thought she’d have to miss Azzi when they’re finally so close to each other. It’s funny how they felt more connected when they were hundreds of miles apart. Paige sighs deeply. 

A knock on the door interrupts Paige’s thoughts. She quickly checks her phone before opening up the door. Blair is waiting on the other side. The basketball player promised to drive her friend to the airport. 

“We’re going to be late. Let’s go!” Blair rushes Paige. She quickly gathers her keys and her phone before quickly walking to the car. Paige is very happy that Blair gets to see her boyfriend. They’ve made so much progress in their relationship despite the obstacles thrown at them from being long distance. However she’s sad; because Blair is leaving and Paige doesn’t know how she’ll get through the rest of the semester.

It’s a shared sentiment between the two. They had a conversation while eating dinner.

It’s around 8pm on Tuesday when Blair texts her.

You. Me. Noodles and Company?

Paige immediately agrees. Beyond the mention of the place that makes her favorite Mac and Cheese, her friend is leaving tomorrow. The blue-eyed girl isn’t sure how to cope with that. Paige is deep in thought when her phone vibrates again. It’s another message from Blair.

Let me in!

Paige figures that the girl had already been on her way when she initially texted her. This distance between her apartment and the restaurant is too far for her to get here as fast as she did. Nonetheless, she moves from her spot on the couch to let the brown-haired girl in. The smell of the food attacks Paige’s senses immediately.

“Hi, Paigey” Blair greets as she moves into the kitchen. 

“Hey, B” Paige responds. The two girls are quick to pull out their food and dig in. The silence between them is comfortable, at least for a moment.

“I’m gonna miss you, B” Paige confesses. She isn’t sure how she became so close with the girl in front of her in a matter of weeks. The blue-eyed girl would’ve never thought that she would be friends with the girl who bought her a tequila shot, but here she is. 

“Stop! We’ll say goodbye when you drive me to the airport tomorrow.” Blair demands. She also thinks about how she’ll miss Paige. 

“What am I supposed to do without you?” Paige whines. She really doesn’t know.

“You’re going to heal your heart.” Blair responds softly. “You’re going to move on because this is killing you. You have to do this for yourself.” Paige can only nod. “When I come back, I want to see a happier version of you. One that gets all of the love she deserves in this world.”

Paige gets up to hug the girl. She only hopes that she understands what she means when she replies “Thank you”. Blair hugs the basketball player a little tighter before pulling away.

“This is our last night together. We need tequila shots.” Blair laughs. She doesn’t want the entire night to feel heavy. Paige laughs but agrees and pulls out a bottle from her cabinet along with two shot glasses.

The rest of the evening is spent enjoying each other's company. Both girls were so glad that they had met the other.

When they finally reach the airport, silence settles between them. Paige gets out of the car to help Blair grab her bags from the trunk. They aren’t ready to say goodbye just yet. It’s simple.

“I’ll see you soon, Bueckers.” Blair smirks. Her tease lightens the mood. This is what she said when they first met.

“I can't wait!” Paige flirts back. 

They hug before Blair turns to walk in the airport. She’s almost through the door when she turns back to gain the basketball player's attention. 

“Paige!” she yells which prompts the blue-eyed girl to look at her. “Take care of yourself.” It’s not an easy task but she says it anyway. 

“I will. Promise” Paige confirms.

“You’re too full of life to be half loved.” and with that, Blair walks into the airport. She doesn’t give the girl a chance to respond. She doesn’t need to. Blair can only hope that the blonde girl listens to her.

-

For the next few days, Paige carries those words with her. 

“You are too full of life to be half loved.” echoes in her head at all hours of the day.

She carries them home to Minneasota for Thanksgiving. She looks for any type of love within the people around her. 

She sees it with Drew. It’s in the way he naturally gravitates to her. It’s in the way he looks at her like she can do no more.

Paige sees the same thing with her dad. His eyes hold a certain type of admiration. She can tell that he’s filled with a sense of pride when he looks at her. He’s proud of her. 

She hears it when talks to Blair’ and her other friends. They naturally include her and accept her. 

She feels it when the Fudds call and text her individually on the holiday. Katie, Tim, Jon, and Jose each make an effort to wish her a happy Thanksgiving despite her not being there with them. They don’t have a reason to think about her; but they do.

She understands it now. Why should she settle for only half of that? 

Paige decided over Thanksgiving break that she won’t.

-

Azzi spends the week of Thanksgiving with her family and Riley. The decision to bring her was last minute and slightly impulsive. Okay so maybe slightly more than slightly impulsive. The curly-haired girl had essentially thrown a wrench into everyone’s plans by bringing the volleyball player home with her. 

Everyone had planned for Azzi to walk through the door with Paige. 

Her grandparents had come with the hopes of being able to see the pair for a little while. Jon and Jose were disappointed that there wouldn’t be someone to play 2K with besides each other. Katie had felt completely unprepared for the unexpected guest. She didn’t know what food Riley liked but she made sure to stock up on the ingredients for mac and cheese for Paige. Tim simply just couldn’t get past the fact that his daughter knew anyone else besides Paige. He really couldn’t get past the fact that they had washed this hideous fluffy purple blanket, only for the owner to not occupy their home.

Azzi knows this because she feels it too. It begins the day after Thanksgiving.

Riley and Azzi are cuddling in the basketball player's bed. Riley has an arm swung over Azzi’s waist while her face is buried in her neck. Azzi rubs small circles on her back while scrolling through tik tok. She’s bored and antsy.

Azzi is restless. She spent one full week with her girlfriend Riley and she hated it. It’s not that Riley isn’t fun to be around; but she wasn’t Paige. She didn’t know her way around her parents’ house or have inside jokes with her brothers. She didn’t understand why certain tik toks were funny. She didn’t smell like vanilla or have blonde hair. And she certainly didn’t have big, bright, blue eyes..

Azzi missed Paige. The concept isn’t exactly new to her. Their entire friendship is built off of them missing each other. But even in the times that they’re apart, they’re together. There’s a never ending stream of phone calls and text messages. They have a widget app that allows the other’s picture to appear on their home screen. They wear each other’s clothes more often than not. Paige and Azzi are always intertwined in some sense. Paige and Azzi are more like PaigeandAzzi.

If she’s thinking about it, Azzi suppose that’s why it was so easy for her and Paige. It was so easy to kiss Paige. It was so easy to touch Paige. They had already known everything there was to know; secrets, crushes, dreams, and fears. This was simply just something to add to this list. Now she knows all that she did before plus some.

Now Azzi knows that when she kisses Paige right below her left ear, the blonde lets out whimpers that one can only dream about. She knows that when they’re making out, she should bite the older girl’s bottom lip. Azzi knows that Paige lets out the most pornographic when she kisses the birth mark on her inner thigh. She also knows that she has to give Paige praise because even though she’ll never admit it, she loves it when Azzi calls her a good girl.

So, Azzi knows it all. She even knows that Paige is in love with her. She can hear it in the way Paige speaks to her. Her voice held a certain softness that is reserved specifically for the younger girl. She can feel it in the way Paige looks at her; like Azzi can hang the moons and the stars. She can feel it in the way Paige touches her. The blonde is gentle but Azzi feels every emotion when they hug. It feels like home.

It felt like home.

She hasn’t heard that voice or looked into those eyes in a very long time. Azzi knows it is her fault. She took all she could from the girl without giving anything else back in return. She didn’t have anything to offer the girl; so she didn’t.

Now Azzi is home during Thanksgiving Break; holding a girl that isn’t Paige. And that’s why Azzi hated it; because she wanted those eyes with blonde hair. Everyday. She wanted every holiday with Paige and everyday in between. 

She can’t have that though. Azzi has taken so much from Paige; she doesn’t even know where she would start.

So, she pulls Riley closer. She isn’t Paige but she hasn’t lost her.

PREVIOUS | NEXT

[theresattrpgforthat]

Hi folks, it’s Mint.

I’m on a mini-vacation this week so I’m going to be releasing some recommendation posts for things that aren’t related to requests (easy to queue), and I’ll be back to doing regular rec posts when I get back!

THEME: TTRPGs For Palestine.

This is going to be a list of recommendations of games that you can get in the TTRPGs for Palestine Bundle. There’s plenty of games in the bundle that I’ve recommended before, so I’m going to try and focus on games I haven’t talked much about before. You can look at the bottom of this post for some of the greatest hits!

The bundle is on until June 29, so make sure to pick it up before it's too late!

LORDSWORN, by Mareensmusings.

You rode to war at the call of your God, swore yourself to Their divinity as the drums of war beat from every corner of the Pantheon. Standing beside your divinity, Their purpose so clear and noble, you felt immortal. Beside your fellow Lordsworns, you felt your victory a certainty, battle but a trivial formality.

Now They lay dead before you, Their Godblood flowing into the dirt. Already the world lurches in distress, twisting at the loss of a God, one of many to die this day. Your Captain, too, lies broken, entrusting the survivors of your Company to the you. Of the thousands who rode out, you are all that remains of your Company.

Your God is dead. You only have each other now.

LORDSWORN is a GMless TTRPG for 1-4 players of tragic, fragile stories of desperate survival and comradery at the end of the world. In LORDSWORN each player takes on the role of three soldiers who swore themselves to a (now dead) God during the Cataclysm, an apocalyptical battle that saw all the Gods of the Pantheon go to war. With their God dead and the world churning and reeling from the death of the Pantheon, you and a handful of survivors must make the trek back to the only place that makes sense anymore – Home. 

LORDSWORN is a collaborative game that guides your group into the story of a company, of which each player will control 3 Lordsworns. Your characters can be chosen from a list, or drawn randomly using a deck of cards. You navigate the game over four stages: world-building, company creation, the journey home, and the epilogue. The game is designed to be tragic, even if your company makes it all the way home. The core rules are built off of Caltrop Core, which means that you will rely mostly on d4s anytime you have to roll dice, but unlike many other Caltrop Core games that I’ve seen, the system is less focused on chance and more focused on oracles. If you want a game of tragedy that focuses on the story rather than the characters, you might want to check out Lordsworn.

Lamplighter’s Festival, by ira prince.

The lamps have been there for as long as we can remember. The lamps have never been there, and only appear for tonight. The lamps are strange and new — we’re still getting used to them, making space for them in our lives. We know exactly what the lamps mean, and we’ve committed their history to heart. We’ve forgotten what the lamps mean, even if the gravity of it still hums and shimmers around them. We’re deciding what the lamps mean, weaving their purpose in more tightly every year, every season, every eclipse. Tonight, we light the lamps, and we tell our stories about them.

Lamplighter’s Festival is a map-drawing game about a nighttime festival, and the things it can illuminate about the place in which it’s celebrated. It can be played alone, or collaboratively if you like.

Lamplighter’s Festival uses the random placement of dice to draw out a location, at whatever scale you like. You use the pattern that ensues to create locations on the map called Lamp Locations, which you will elaborate on as you play. At the end of the game, you will have not only a festival, but details about the different elements that are required for it to happen properly, and possibly the cultural meanings behind the festival. If you want a game that helps you build a place and a culture around one specific event, this might be the game for you.

A Labyrinth Like Us, by z.w. garth.

The minotaur city of Ut sits in the center of an endless labyrinth. The labyrinth twists and turns, it folds and rearranges. And from its dark halls pour forth monsters, which tear and smash and destroy.

You are a minotaur in your district's Guard. You respond to the waves of beasts that wreck havoc and mayhem—repelling the danger and protecting the afflicted. You carry with you your hopes for Ut's future, and your fears for its present. Rally with your neighbors to protect one another. Carve a home in the labyrinth.

A Labyrinth Like Us is a 2-page roleplaying game in the OSR/sword dream tradition. It requires 3-5 players, including one Keeper, 2d20 and 2d6, and these rules. 

This game is reminiscent of, but not a direct replication of any specific myth. You play as minotaurs in a labyrinthine city, plagued by horrors that they can only face when working together. Your minotaurs use emotions to empower special abilities, which are mainly combat-focused.

The game is only two pages, with one page introducing you to the setting, character creation, and how to play, while the other provides roll tables and advice for the Games Master in order to make the labyrinth feel dangerous and dark. If you want a game that presents you with a challenge but doesn’t overwhelm you with rules, you might want to take a look at A Labyrinth Like Us.

HYPERMALL: Unlimited Violence, by Rat Bastard Games.

Do you hate your boss? Like, REALLY hate your boss? 

HYPERMALL: UNLIMITED VIOLENCE is a mission-based corpo murder TTRPG about assassinating the rich and famous. Enter the consumerist hellscape of THE HYPERMALL where death is cheap and life is cheaper. HM:UV is an unhinged gonzo meatpunk sci-fi dystopia buzzword game for financial geniuses. 

You're a CONTRACTOR for SLAUGHTR™ - The Assassination App - and your job is to Murder Your Target Without Dying. You're already in debt. You can't afford unnecessary Resurrections when rent is due, and you absolutely do not have health insurance. GET TO WORK. 

Become a mutated killing machine, a psychic murderer, or a cold blooded cyber criminal. Try your best to make ends meet. Die a lot. Kill cops. Get paid.

This is a game of cathartic violence, with random roll tables to help you build a unique character quickly, pulling from d66 backgrounds and meshing together rules from games like Troika and PbtA. Combat isn’t just physical in this game: you can also fight your opponents in the finacial and social spheres, allowing you to take down someone three different ways.

The really difficult part is figuring out how to kills someone permanently, since there’s a resurrection matrix inside the Hypermall that makes death kind of hard to stick. If you want to unleash your fury in increasingly creative ways, you might want to check out HYPERMALL: Unlimited Violence.

Heaven / Hell, by Joel Happyhill.

Hell, The Underworld, Hades, Yomi, no matter what you call it seems like everyone’s ended up here. No one has any memory of their life before, if such a thing even exists. But one thing rings true, none of you want to stick around.

Heaven / Hell, otherwise known as 2H, is a competitive 1 VS 1 tabletop game set in the underworld. It’s meant to recreate the systems and strategies created by traditional fighting video games, allowing you to mix and mach a number of recognizable fighting game archetypes and optional rules to play your dream fighter through the medium of pen and paper.

Heaven/Hell is more like a competitive board-game than it is a tabletop roleplaying game. Your characters will travel across a board as they do battle with each-other, with distance and positioning being crucial in developing a strategy.

One mechanic that seems to help emulate fighting games is the use of the Underdog Token, which is granted to your character whenever you take a Wound in a round of combat. This Token can be spent in the following round to reveal a new Technique or do something called Flash Parry for a second time. You use this ability to halt another player’s move in its tracks, culminating in a scene that you might see in a dramatic fight where two opponents are holding each-other off with their weapons, possibly snarling at each-other as their faces draw close.

If you want the tactical complexity of a board-game combined with the dramatic moments of high-action tv shows, you might want to check out Heaven / Hell.

Hexfall, by Titanomachy RPG.

Stratus Cay is a floating city in the Rift, a digital quantum dimension at the intersection of the smallest black hole in the multiverse and the concept of becoming. The city is made of countless islands, a hyperreal archipelago adrift in flashing interdimensional lights. An infinite smattering of lives, as varied and precious as the stars themselves.

You are a hyperpowered being who came into larger-than-life abilities because of a profound cataclysm. Heartbreak. Grief. The depths. Physical, emotional, multidimensional–something unlocked incredible power in you. People like you have many names across Stratus Cay, but the most common is “Diver,” a nickname derived from their affinity for falling through the Rift, either on dangerous jobs or just for fun. 

Divers’ abilities run the gamut of even the wildest imaginations, and their extreme power and durability makes many of them reckless thrillseekers. The pay is too good and the thrills too extraordinary to turn down the opportunity to go on a dive.

Hexfall takes the tried-and-true method of hexcrawling and turns it on its side, by making your travel vertical; you’re diving from the edge of a floating island and falling into the Rift, retrieving artifacts, harvesting resources, and enjoying the thrills of free-fall. Hexfall has combat, puzzles, and mysteries for you to solve, but it also gives you space to roleplay and get to know each-other’s characters, using a token system for actions like helping out your fellow divers, and signifying when you want to role-play a narratively significant moment between you and another person.

What really stands out in this game though, is the character playbooks. Do you have wings made out of swords? Do you carry the blessing of a giant? Have you embraced the fungal form of decay and rebirth? All of these are possibilities within various playbooks of Hexfall. If you want a game about thrill-seeking and finding meaning in a world that, as fantastical as it is, still demands you work out why you want to live, you might want to try out Hexfall.

Abominations, by Elliot Davis.

They tried to tell you to stop playing God.  You replied, “Who’s playing?” and spliced in another gene. 

What is an Abomination?

A living amalgamation of various forms of flesh, machinery, and whatever you can stick it together with. Some slimy, some hairy, some are covered in eyes. Others are a knot of tongues and fingers. An Abomination is whatever you can imagine it to be, tossed in a blender and put back together.

ABOMINATIONS is a tactile, GM-less TTRPG for 2-6 players. Using a set of letter tiles and some 10-sided dice, you will create one-of-a-kind monsters of your own design. Then take them into the ring for a fight to the last scraps.

This is a game that feels kind of like a biological version of Robot Wars. Instead of constructing robots and pitting them against each-other, you’re creating monstrous mutating piles of flesh and throwing them in the ring. Your characters are to an extent, somewhat pre-defined: each player chooses a vowel, which represents something of your character’s personality, as well as the secret mutation only they have access to. You play using Scrabble tiles, with each letter granting access to specific mutations, from Guns for Arms, to X-Ray Vision, to a Zipper Down the Middle!

If you want a goofy game of slapstick and body horror, I recommend Abominations.

Greatest Hits

Wanderhome, by Possum Creek Games.

FIST, by Claymore.

Apocalypse Frame, by Binary Star Games.

Bump in the Dark, by Jex J Thomas.

[shiny-crocodile]

the best person i’ve ever met

lucy bronze x ona batlle

Summary:

lucy and ona origin story; semi-slow burn, semi-quick; multi chapters that will get a little smutty

chapter 1, chapter 2, chapter 3, chapter 4, chapter 5, chapter 6, chapter 7, chapter 8, chapter 9, chapter 10

CHAPTER 1

Chapter Summary: the wedding

Notes: first time writing, feedback appreciated, enjoy ☺️

Lucy was so looking forward to this day, her best friend’s wedding was something they have been talking about since they were kids. She had thought that it may have been her walking down the aisle first given her 7 year relationship, but that had ended a few months ago and her full focus was on her best friend’s special day.

After a hectic first half of the season at her new club, Barcelona, it was also a much needed opportunity for her to let her hair down, hang out with friends she hasn’t seen for a while, marking the start of a fun-filled festive season.

But first she had to make it there on time!

Day 1s group chat

Lucy S: Girls, I don’t need the stress of knowing the details but please tell me you’ll be here in time!

Jordan: We will be there, Stan. I’m waiting for Luce in the pick up zone now.

Lucy S: YOU HAVEN’T PICKED HER UP YET? Oh god, I don’t want to know, I really don’t want to know. Please hurry!

Lucy B: Calma, we’ll be there in 20, get the champagne poured!! Can’t wait to see you! x

Lucy put her phone away as she made her way out of the airport, practically jogging over to Jordan in her black Porsche.

“Nice wheels!!” Lucy exclaimed as she chucked her bags in the boot. “How are you, my friend?” She asked, sliding into the car and embracing her friend over the console.

“Bloody stressed!” Jordan said, immediately starting the engine and racing off. “Not made better by you promising a 20 minute arrival time to a stressed bride when we are at least 30 minutes away.”

“I know you’ve always liked a challenge.”

They spent the rest of the drive with Lucy debriefing Jordan on the last few months as Jordan concentrated on nipping in and out of traffic. After giving up her plus 1 invite and preparing to turn up to an event as a single woman for the first time in 7 years, Lucy was fully expecting to be bombarded with questions throughout the day. So it was nice to get one out of the way on the drive.

Lucy was feeling good. She was in a great headspace. Of course it was strange, it had only been a few months since her breakup, but she was well over the hardest part and had even started going on dates.

“Well you know what they say,” Jordan started, “Gotta get under someone to get over someone.”

“Exactly,” Lucy agreed, knowing she would leave that part out of her answers when others asked her how she was doing later that day. She was having fun back in Barcelona, but they didn’t all need to know that.

/////

As they arrived at the venue, Lucy S’s brother was stood outside the side entrance, vape in hand.

“Oh god, you look even more stressed than Jordan,” Lucy pointed out as she jumped out the car and walked round to the boot.

“Hard not to be when I’m getting stuck with all the maid of honour duties while the actual maid of honour is 2 hours late to hair and make up,” Sam muttered between panicked puffs on his vape.

“Guessing they’ve not quite got to your hair and make up then”, Lucy joked.

“Funny.”

“Got it, I’ll save the jokes till after the ceremony. Which way are we going?”

Lucy didn’t hear his response as a stunning brunette in a bright blue suit and sky high heels caught her attention. She was strutting towards the front entrance with her arm linked with a player Lucy knew, Millie Turner. Lucy recognised the beautiful girl in blue as a player she had faced a few times for Man City and England, but had never really appreciated how good looking she actually was until right now. She’d taken the English player’s breath away.

Sam and Jordan scoffed as they looked at each other knowingly once they’d realised they no longer had Lucy’s attention. They hadn’t seen single Lucy in action for years but they definitely still recognised her.

“Well I guess my sister was right then,” Sam scoffed, breaking Lucy from her staring session.

“Huh?” Lucy said, confused.

Jordan grabbed her by the arm and pulled her along. “Come on Luce, you can drool later, let’s go see the bride!”

///

Two champagne flutes were shoved in their faces as they entered the hotel suite, Lucy blowing a kiss over to the other Lucy and the Staniforth family while being hurried into a chair with a team instantly getting started on her face and hair.

“Wow you look amazing,” the right back said as she saw her best friend approaching in the mirror’s reflection. Lucy S was wearing a gorgeous long laced white dress, with a deep V at the front, showing off her golden tan. Her best friend wasn’t wrong, she looked seriously amazing.

“I’m so happy you made it,” the bride said, kissing the side of her maid of honour’s head, trying to not mess up either of their make up.

Lucy smiled, full of such happiness for her oldest friend, “I wouldn’t miss it for the world. I’m so so proud of you.”

“Oh don’t start, I’m not allowed to start crying yet,” Lucy S said, playfully shoving her maid of honours shoulder, “but I’m really proud of you too.”

This had deeper meaning to the Lucys given their frequent long late night chats over the past year, filled with lots of tears and comforting as the right back was forced to come to terms with the realisation she had to end her 7 year relationship, and also come to terms with the end of it in itself. None of it had been easy, there was a lot of love there, even if it became non-romantic. It sent Lucy into some really dark places where she didn’t think there would be any light at the end of the tunnel. She dealt with most of it herself but when she didn’t it was often the other Lucy at the end of the phone.

They shared soft smiles and damp eyes thinking about how much things had improved since then.

“Lucy you will NEVER guess who Bronzey was drooling over outside”, Jordan interrupted while marching over. Both Lucy’s and probably also the make up artists were happy for her intrusion before mascara started running.

“Drooling?! Oh my gosh, who?”

“Begins with an O, greats you with an ‘Hola’,” Sam jumped in as Lucy B rolled her eyes and turned her focus away from the group and onto herself in the mirror as she picked up her champagne.

“Shut the fuck up!” Lucy S exclaimed, “Ona?!”

“Mhmmmmm,” Jordan hummed in confirmation.

Sam nodded eagerly while his sisters jaw hit the floor, “So your plan of wedding day matchmaking is already off to a great start!”

The right back spun her chair back around to face the group, cheeks a slightly deeper shade of red than they were 10 minutes ago. “What do you mean ‘matchmaking’?”

“Well now all the wedding planning is out the way I will need something else to occupy my time,” the bride said while topping up everyone’s glasses. “And no offence but I’m bloody bored of having single friends, me and the mrs need some double date candidates.”

Now it was Lucy B’s turn to gasp in shock. “Wow, well ok then. But maybe you let me chat to her first and see if we actually get on? You know me, all about the personality.”

Jordan laughed a little too loud at that.

“What?” Lucy asked, insulted.

Jordan whipped her phone out and swiped through instagram, “look at some of the insanely fit Spanish girls she’s been going on dates with”. She held up the phone to show the group a series of photos of ridiculously beautiful girls. “Right Luce, these were aaaaall about the personality, yeah?”

“Whatever” Lucy laughed back, her friend may have had a point.

“Well at least Ona is ticking the good looking and Spanish boxes then,” the bride and aspiring match maker said, excited that her plan was coming together. She had obviously known Lucy forever but she had got really close to Ona over the last year and just knew they would be perfect for each other .

Although some people had other ideas…

///

With the ceremony getting underway, Lucy was already a bit buzzed from the 2 glasses of champagne she had in the suite. That would probably explain the surge in confidence she felt when she caught the pretty Spaniard’s gazing at her during the vows. Lucy raised her eyebrows with a smirk at them being the only two in the room whose eyes weren’t on the brides.

You couldn’t blame Ona, Lucy looked incredible in her green silk suit, a white top underneath that showcased abs that looked as though they had been carved by gods. Ona blushed and turned her head quickly to face the brides, which didn’t go unnoticed by Lucy or the Man United players around her.

The Spanish girl had been counting down the days till this wedding. Falling in December, this marked the end of her first full year in England. After a difficult first 6 months of getting used to the language, weather and food, she really felt like she had settled in this year and was looking forward to celebrate love alongside her teammates.

Ona had never been to an English wedding before, she had expectations of what the level of drinking would be like but was excited to see how the English did wedding parties, how it compared to the Spanish dance filled ones.

The ceremony came to an end, the beautiful brides making their way out of the hall, confetti thrown all over them. Ona felt her hands clam up as she saw Lucy start to make her way over.

“Bronzey!!” Tooney shouted, pushing past Alessia to give Lucy a hug.

“You look so good,” Alessia complimented as it was her turn for a hug.

“So do you guys! Look at us all dressed up! Although I desperately need to switch out of these heals,” Lucy complained, pointing down to her shoes that were already giving her blisters after just 30 minutes in them.

“Have you met Oh-na?” Tooney asked, dragging the Spanish girl closer to her side.

“Only in football kits, unfortunately,” Ona said, Tooney quietly chucking at Ona’s unintentional flirting, getting a light shove from Alessia. “Nice to meet you properly.”

“You too! I feel like I know you with the girls at Barça always talking about you anyway,” Lucy said, paying no notice to the childish chuckles from Tooney, full attention on the enchanting eyes of the shorter brunette. “You planning on sticking with those heels all night?” Lucy asked, pointing down to Ona’s shoes that were about double the height of the ones she was complaining about.

“Annoyingly, yes,” Ona responded, “I stupidly forgot my dancing shoes.”

“I’m sure we will work something out,” Lucy said, “I think -“

“Um Hi Lucy,” Millie T interrupted, making Lucy aware of the fact that she had gotten distracted and stopped mid-way down the line, neglecting Millie.

“Millie, hey!” Lucy said enthusiastically, “how are you?”

The brunette noticed an uncharacteristic coldness in Millie as she pulled the blonde in for a hug.

“Yeah, good thank you,” Millie responded, turning to Ona and the rest of the group, “we should go through to our table now.”

Lucy wasn’t sure the reason for the dismissive behaviour but she could take a hint, “Cool I better go see if the brides need me, I’ll catch up with you all later,” she said to the group before her eyes stopped on the younger brunette, “it was lovely to meet you Ona.”

As Lucy made her way out of the hall, Ona’s eyes were glued to her. She would be lying if she said Lucy didn’t look insanely good today, well Ona had always found her good looking, but today the green suit and perky bum bouncing as she left the room were hard not to be transfixed by. The Spanish girl was especially impressed by the English girl’s ability to correctly pronounce her name, despite being introduced by Tooney who completely butchered it. She guessed she had her friends in Barcelona to thank for that.

///

The reception area was buzzing with laughter and chatter as the guests enjoyed their 3 course dinner, followed by speeches and a first dance that made most of the room emotional. Then it was time to dance and Lucy kept to her word, really letting her hair down - she had lost count of how many drinks she’d had by this point - shifting from champagne, to wine, to beer and now onto the vodka sodas.

No matter the occasion, if there was a dance floor, Lucy was on it and tonight was no different. She was switching between groups of old friends, work friends, Lucy S’s family. Her green eyes regularly caught on Ona’s brown ones for the first half an hour, until they didn’t anymore, although she was too distracted by the fun drunken times she was having dancing with Sam Staniforth to really think about it.

That was until she saw the rest of Man United girls back out on the dance floor again but Ona was nowhere to be seen. She scanned the room and saw the young brunette sitting on her own sipping her drink, smiling over at her teammates as she watched them enjoy themselves.

“You ok there?” Lucy said as she approached Ona, pulling out a chair and slumping down into it to give her legs a rest. “I thought the Spanish loved to dance!”

Ona looked around and sent a pained smile Lucy’s way. “We do!” she argued, “I’m ashamed to be letting my country down but my feet are in too much pain. All I can do is drink.”

“Ah yes the shoes! Well my feet could do with a rest as well, so all good if I join you for that drink?” Lucy asked, holding up her empty glass and smiling at Ona hopefully. Even countless drinks in, she still felt an unexplainable nervousness talking to her new acquaintance.

“Of course! I would love that, I want you to tell me all about Barcelona,” Ona said, “make me jealous”.

Lucy excitedly jumped up, “what are you drinking then? I’ll get us another.”

“Well seen as though we’re talking about Spain, shall we have some Sangria.”

Lucy’s eyes lit up, “Yes! We absolutely should. You rest those pretty feet, I’ll be right back”.

As Lucy walked away she cursed herself internally for the “pretty feet” comment that she didn’t mean to let spill out of her mouth, now Ona will think she’s got some kind of foot fetish.

Meanwhile all Ona was wondering was whether she was dreaming or if the real Lucy Bronze, the most attractive person at this wedding, was flirting and they were actually going to drink Sangria together.

Once Lucy returned with a big jug and two glasses, the girls talked and talked. It felt so natural, it was flirty but sweet and they were so focused on each other that they forgot where they were and lost all track of time. Then the music switched to reggaeton and Lucy had a sudden urge to dance with Ona but she needed to do something about those shoes and the floors were too sticky for the spaniard to ditch them completely.

“Jordan!” Lucy shouted over to another table, waving her friend over. “Do you have some trainers Ona could borrow? You’re probably closer to her size and she needs to get out of these heels to have a dance” Lucy said, lifting Ona’s leg off the ground to show Jordan the 6 inch heels in question.

“You want me to get her out of her heels?” Jordan teased, “just kidding! Ona, come with me, we will find you something.”

Ona scurried off behind Jordan, trying to keep up with a half limp while smiling back as she left Lucy at the table. She blushed slightly feeling the older brunette’s eyes following her out of the room.

As Lucy picked up her drink for another sip, she shuddered at the grating of the chair next to her as she was joined by someone.

“Oh hi Millie,” Lucy said, noticing the blonde girl was particularly drunk now.

“Lucy,” she said as she grabbed the jug of Sangria, pouring herself a glass without asking.

“Having fun?” Lucy asked, suddenly feeling very awkward. She hated small talk and Millie wouldn’t make this easy, but she couldn’t exactly just sit there in silence.

“Yeah, I love a wedding! Where’s Keira tonight?” Millie asked, avoiding eye contact.

Lucy had successfully navigated that question a couple of times tonight but this was a weird one as Millie would have definitely known they had broken up. “Somewhere in Spain, I’d imagine. Her family are going over there for Christmas.”

“Left her on babysitting duty then,” Millie said, more of statement than a question.

Lucy was starting to feel more uncomfortable now, she was confused as Millie was usually so warm with her, “I guess. You know we broke up though right?” She asked, knowing that Millie would have known, everyone knew, the footballer community isn’t massive and it was the biggest topic of gossip this year.

“Mm maybe I did hear about that? So now you’re going after Ona?”

Ah, Lucy thought, realising the coldness was potentially Ona related. “I wouldn’t say so,” Lucy defended herself, “we’re just chatting and have things in common because of Barcelona and mutual friends.”

“Planning on shitting where you eat then?”

“Pardon?” Lucy asked, knowing what the saying meant but unsure why it was being directed at her.

“Well she’s going to be your teammate next season so might be a good idea not to use her as a rebound.”

Lucy dismissed herself, muttering an excuse about needing the toilet but she just needed to get out of that situation. Something was clearly going on with Millie and Lucy wasn’t going to take it personally, but she couldn’t help but feel a little surprised by the revelation of Ona signing for Barça. They play in the same position and of course Lucy knew she wouldn’t be the first choice right back forever but it did sting a little at the thought she could be replaced so soon.

Ona came back, bouncing over to the table where she left Lucy with a new spring in her step as her feet were finally freed from those heels.

“Where’s Lucy gone?” She asked Millie as she got to the table with Lucy’s seat empty.

“Dunno,” Millie grumbled, “I mentioned something about her girlfriend and she left.”

“Ex-girlfriend” Jordan chimed in, before wandering off to look around for Lucy, managing to annoy Millie with her interjection.

Millie turned around to scan the room, “oh look, she’s over there chatting up that blonde at the bar.”

Ona felt like she’d been punched in the gut as she looked over and saw exactly that. Lucy was leaning over the bar, face way too close to the bartender who was unquestionably attractive. She looked like a model.

“Well let’s go dance then,” Ona said, shaking off the feeling of rejection. They had just been flirting, and Lucy probably thought it as just harmless. It hurt a little as Ona thought they were having a good time together and she fancied Lucy, but it was nothing she couldn’t dance away.

Millie followed her to the dance floor to rejoin the other football girls, Ona finally able to show off her moves. Although the person she wanted to show off to was no longer nearby.

Until she was.

“Hey dancing queen,” Ona heard, feeling a pair of soft lips graze her ear before spinning round to see Lucy’s face impossibly close to hers. Lucy stepped back, holding up a tray of shot glasses between them, “got you something!”

“Tequila!!!” Ona exclaimed, grabbing a glass, some salt and lime before moving back so Lucy could pass the tray round to the other girls.

She even held the tray out to Millie with a smile, before discarding the tray and heading back next to Ona to take the shots together.

“I thought you’d found someone else to talk to,” Ona said, tequila coursing through her as she drunkenly confessed, “it made me sad.”

Lucy put a hand out to hold Ona’s waist and bring her closer, again brushing the younger girl’s ear with her lips. “No way, I wasn’t going to miss our dance.”

She stepped back again and took Ona’s hand in hers, spinning her around, moving together and apart in sync with the music.

The older brunette had considered not coming back, but a quick toilet break brought her back to her senses. She wasn’t going to let anything or anyone stop her from having a good time tonight, she’d been too excited for this night for too long to sulk. Just had to make a quick pit stop to the bar for the shots before joining Ona.

///

As the night went on the two girls danced and danced. They would occasionally part to dance with friends but were soon drawn back into each other like magnets, then glued at the hip until they were amongst the last on the dance floor and it was the last song.

Ona wrapped her arms around Lucy’s neck, pulling her in as the older brunette felt the younger girls breath was over her. She slowly leaned down, moving her lips closer to Ona’s, searching each others eyes for any hesitation, wondering if this was really about to happen in front of all these people.

Lucy was taken out of her thoughts by Ona jumping back suddenly, hand covering her mouth as she spun round and sprinted towards the bathroom.

Lucy stood frozen in shock before she pulled herself together and rushed after her. As she entered the bathroom she saw Ona hunched over a toilet, throwing up everything they’d drunk together over the last few hours.

Lucy rushed to the younger girl’s side and pulled her hair back, taking a hair tie and clip out of her own styled her to secure Ona’s out of her face and away from the toilet bowl.

Lucy gently rubbed circles on Ona’s back while the vomiting continued. As she paused between vomits, Millie entered the room with a glass of water.

“I can take it from here,” Millie asserted.

Lucy started to stand up, before Ona’s tear filled eyes caught hers, longing her to stay. She couldn’t and wouldn’t leave her like this.

“Actually I think I’ll stay, but thanks for the water,” Lucy said, taking the water from Millie and placing it to Ona’s lips, full attention back onto the sickly Spaniard. “That’s it, small sips, you’re ok,” Lucy reassured.

Ona breathed heavily as she seemed to be done vomiting. Ignoring Millie behind them, she grabbed Lucy’s hand saying, “thank you for staying, I’m so sorry, this is so embarrassing.”

Lucy laughed, one hand in Ona’s the other still stroking her back, “don’t worry! Happens to the best of us and I’m probably partly to blame. Let me drop you back to your room.”

“Oh no, you’re sweet but that would make me even more embarrassed to have you escort my drunk self back. I’ll ask one of the girls,” Ona said, using Lucy’s strong shoulder to push herself up to stand.

Lucy followed suit and got to her feet, following Ona over to the sinks, where Millie was no longer leaning, neither girl paying attention to her exit.

“Fair enough, I’ll leave you to it. Honestly nothing to be embarrassed about though,” Lucy said as both girls washed their hands.

“I won’t hug you because I’m a bit disgusting now. But I’ve had a really good night with you.”

Lucy didn’t care as she brought Ona in for a hug anyway, “me too,” she said against Ona’s neck, “maybe see you up for breakfast tomorrow, sweet dreams bonita.” She left a soft kiss on Ona’s cheek before backing away and leaving the bathroom.

Ona turned back to the mirror, not able to miss the red that had washed over her face. She cursed herself for not being able to control her drink, but on some sort of high from the cheek kiss.

She left the bathroom and walked back over to her friends, catching Lucy gazing over at her with a smile as she helped stack away the chairs in the corner of the room.

“You ok?” Millie asked, “shall I walk you back to your room?”

“That’s ok, Less’s room is near mine, she can do it.” Ona said. Usually she would just say yes to Millie for a simple life but she could tell something was up with her today. She had been acting off ever since Ona had mentioned that Barcelona had offered her a contract on the drive over, then the weird behaviour continued and seemed targeted towards Lucy. She couldn’t be bothered with it, she was too exhausted, so she hooked her arm into Less’s and marched them off down the corridor.

“Well you looked like you had a good night,” Jordan said, making Lucy jump while mid chair stack.

“Hah I really did,” Lucy agreed before trying to change the subject, “how was yours?”

Jordan picked up a chair to help her stack, “good as well. Although I reckon the highlight was watching a girl run away to throw up when it looked like you were about to kiss.”

Lucy laughed, tugging the chair out of Jordan’s hands before shoving her, “shut up.”

“Hope the wedding photographers caught that moment,” Jordan teased, digging out a pack of gum from her pocket as she held them up to Lucy. “Maybe you could do with one of these?”

Lucy rolled her eyes, leaving Jordan to go get more of the chairs from other tables, knowing full well that she was going to be teased about this for the rest of time.

Once she’d helped out as much as she could, Lucy headed up to her room, still on a high from the whole day, already excited for the next time she would get to see her new friend.

[wardenparker]

Bones Full of Words, ch 6

Javier Peña x plus size reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

“He pleaded so much that he lost his voice. His bones began to fill with words.” ― Gabriel García Márquez, One Hundred Years of Solitude

Javier Peña had no way of knowing for certain the American journalist he sometimes sees sniffing around the embassy for her stories is also getting information about the narcos from the same girls that he is. After Helena is brutalized by sicarios, it is that same journalist who comes to take her away and look after her -- giving Javi reason to pause and reconsider his opinion of the woman he had previously not considered as anything more than eye candy.

He has no idea that once she has walked fully into his life, he will be battling with himself over whether or not he should stop her from walking out it of again.

Rating: M for Mature but this blog is always 18+ Word Count: 10.5k Warnings: *Blanket warnings for this series: sex work, time period appropriate sexism, cursing, alcohol, food/eating, talk of weight or size, fatphobia (sometimes internalized and sometimes not), canon typical violence* Fatphobia, internalized fatphobia, self-esteem issues. Flirting and talk of sex. We are starting to pine! Summary: Spending more time around Javi is as awkward as it is anything else, but spending some time with the girls has you approaching the situation a little differently after weeks of uncertainty. Notes: Introducing Elisa! Inner conflict, forced proximity, and a little soul searching are the name of the game.

Ch 1 ~ Ch 2 ~ Ch 3 ~ Ch 4 ~ Ch 5

Days tick by until it becomes weeks, and every apartment you look at is deemed either unsafe or unfit or otherwise unacceptable. The rent is too high or it doesn’t come furnished, or they don’t allow dogs. Señora Perrín had told you Chi-Chi couldn’t come to her son’s house because she generally hated men, and had said you should either keep her or bring her to a shelter.

It broke your heart that she could just give the precious guard dog up so easily and you’d been next to tears cuddling Chi-Chi on the living room floor when Javier came home from a stakeout. There was no discussion about it. Javier had just given the dog a half smile and said it was a damn good thing she liked him, because she was already settled.

On this particular morning you’re up before Javier which is incredible in and of itself. Sitting at the table with the local paper circling newspaper ads for apartments you haven’t already seen feels futile, but you have to keep trying.

Javi rolls his shoulders as he shuffles into the kitchen. He had been needing to start the coffee pot, but you’re already there, the pot full except for the cup at your elbow. “Morning.” He grunts, walking by the table and snatching up your already lit cigarette for a quick drag. You smoke the same ones he does and he’s never been shy about sharing a cigarette. “Fuck.” He groans, feeling the nicotine flooding his system. “Ran out last night.” He explains. You’re looking in the paper again and he almost asks why when it’s obvious you are settled here, but he doesn’t. You might want your own space and he doesn’t feel like it’s his place to press. You might share marks and have managed to be somewhat friendly to each other, but it hasn’t gone beyond that.

“Morning.” The ritual is usually the opposite, but he seems to adjust alright today. And today, like every other, you drag your eyes away from the sliver of tanned skin that shows at his waistline when he reaches up for a mug or to scratch the back of his neck like he does when he’s tired. “You wanna take the rest of my pack to work? I can pick more up from that corner store that stocks American while I’m apartment hunting.”

“I’ll stop on the way.” He shakes his head, pouring himself a cup of coffee and taking that first blessed sip, “Fuuuuuuuck.” He groans again in appreciation. “I don’t know how, but your coffee is always so good.”

“I refuse to give up my secret.” The pinch of cinnamon you add to the coffee grounds whenever you make a pot has turned out to be his unexpected favorite. It warms you deep in your chest with something you can’t name, but you always smile at the compliment. “There’s leftovers in the fridge if you want breakfast.” He rarely sticks around long enough in the mornings to eat anything freshly cooked, but at least he’s eating something.

“I don’t have time.” He admits. “Fucking overslept as it is.” He’s been pulling a lot of late nights, but he’s still been insisting on going in on time. Pablo getting fucking elected to office has lit a fire under his ass to prove the bastard is dirty.

It would be domestic — mothering, even — to suggest he take something with him so you swallow it off of the tip of your tongue. “Take my cigarettes, then,” you insist, putting the pack in his hand. Instead you offer something far less invasive. “Don’t waste the time stopping. I got my column in yesterday so I’m free as a bird to get more today.”

“Thanks.” He shoots you a grateful smile and nods as he takes another sip of the coffee before he checks his watch. “Shit.” He gulps down another mouthful and dumps the cup in the sink. “I’ll take care of that when I get home.” He’s noticed you’ve cleaned up when he’s too busy and he doesn’t want you to think you need to do that. “I’ve gotta go.”

“See you later.” Maybe tonight. Maybe not. Sometimes he runs into the apartment for something and then goes out again and you don’t see him until the next day. He doesn’t ever stop working, night and day.

He grabs his keys. “See you.” He manages before the phone in his pocket starts ringing. “Shit. Peña. Yeah, yeah I’m on my way.” He grunts as he closes the door and jogs down the hall towards the front of the building.

"Well girl..." Your eyes slide to the dog as she watches Javier leave, whining mournfully in her well-claimed spot on the living room rug. "Looks like it's just you and me again today. You wanna stretch out on my lap while I call landlords?"

******

The morning goes surprisingly well and there’s even time to meet Connie and one of her work friends for lunch at Steve’s insistence. “We could be working.” Javi grumbles as he lights up the last cigarette from the pack you had given him.

“It wouldn’t kill you to socialize once in a while,” Steve reminds him, nudging him toward whatever little place Connie and her friend had deemed appropriate for lunch.

“I socialize.” Javi snorts, even though he’s not once been to see the girls since you’ve unexpectedly moved in. It’s been limited to his hand in the shower every fucking night.

“When?” Steve grins, infinitely amused. “When you’re grumbling at paperwork in the office? When you’re sleeping? Are you even going to that brothel anymore? You don’t even leave the office at lunch like you used to.” He used to go to see the working girls on lunch break or after work. He knows it — they pretty much all unofficially know it. But not lately. He just doesn’t know what’s changed.

“Why are you so goddamn interested in where I stick my dick?” Javi cuts his eyes over at his partner before he yanks the door open and walks into the little restaurant. It’s annoying that Steve has clocked his habits and even more annoying that he’s noticed the change. He hasn’t told Steve about you. Neither you being his soulmate or living with him temporarily.

“Because you’re fuckin cranky when you don’t get any,” Steve mutters at his back, letting Peña bust past him into the place while he trails behind and snickers.

He rolls his eyes and pulls a chair out at a table. “You’re entirely too fucking cheerful.” He grumbles, wishing he had just told Steve he was working through lunch. He’s exhausted and honestly needs a day off.

“Just needed a little sunshine in my day,” the other man announces, beaming when he sees his own soulmate and wife walk through the door.

“Sunshine.” He huffs, crushing out a cigarette but immediately perking up when a very attractive brunette comes in behind Connie. Obviously an extra and Javi decides that a little flirting is exactly what he needs.

"Hey!" Connie Murphy comes breezing in with a smile on her face and a kiss for her husband. "Sorry I'm late, honey."

"Hey." Steve accepts the gesture of affection readily, taking both of her cheeks in his hands and pressing his lips to hers with a happy hum.

"Javier." When Connie stands up again at the table, she gestures to the brunette who came in in back of her. "This is my friend Elisa." To her friend, she explains: "Javier works with Steve."

Javi gets out of his chair and shakes her hand, enjoying how soft and warm it is. She's got a nice set of tits, and he's not feeling guilty about looking after he had that conversation with you. "Nice to meet you." He greets her and pulls out her chair for her as they both sit down.

"Are you another...janitor at the embassy? Like Steve?" Elisa asks, smirking slightly because that seems to be such a lame excuse.

"No, actually I'm CIA." Javi lies with a straight face. He glances at Steve. "But that's classified, so don't tell anybody."

The Murphys exchange expressions of raised eyebrows with each other and then with Javi, as if to tell him to cool it with the sarcasm. Somebody can and will overhear him and take him seriously.

Javi continues on. “I’m here to hunt communists and prevent the Marxist invasion from Cuba.” He’s lit another cigarette and holds it in his hand. “The janitor thing, that was you?” He asks Steve, who hums unhappily as Javi continues to talk. “No, that’s just a cover.” He tells her, taking a drag from his cigarette.

Elisa laughs, slightly unsure but willing to bet he's nearly telling the truth and that he's doing it in spite of the Murphys. She likes Connie, but the American woman is a little too earnest for her own good. "Thank you for being so honest," she says to Javier instead, and picks up on the overt honesty played like a lie tempo at the table. "Just so you know," she adds playfully. "I'm a communist guerrilla."

Javi laughs, along with Connie, and Steve gives a halfhearted smile. “Perfect.” Javi tells her with a wink.

"Yeah," Steve huffs, looking between the other two at the table before bringing his eyes back to his wife and nearly shrugging. It's obvious Elisa and Javi are on some kind of wavelength that he and Connie are not. "Perfect." He says the word but huffs it doubtfully.

Javi smirks at his partner, picking up on his mood but he doesn’t pay it any attention. “Tell me, how did you just start working at the clinic?” Javier asks Elise, as he looks over the menu. Catching sight of a meal that he thinks you would like since you like those falafel things and hating that he’s thinking about you right now.

"Everyone needs a job, don't they?" Elisa poses, acting like the answer doesn't quite matter when it truly doesn't. Not really anyway. Her work as a nurse is not the work she will be known for.

“That’s right.” Javi blows a ring of smoke up into the air and grins a Connie. He likes Murphy’s wife and it’s obvious that she’s the one that is the more outgoing of the two of them.

“So,” Connie poses, trying to brighten the mood at the table. “Lunch?”

“That sounds good.” Javi glances at the menu again and smirks at his partner. “Need some help?” He asks, knowing Steve’s reading comprehension of Spanish is worse than his speaking abilities.

“Shut up, Peña.” Steve mutters, grateful when Connie leans in to help him instead. His grasp of Spanish is growing, but at a snail’s pace.

Javi snickers quietly, feeling a little better after giving him some shit back after having to listen to Steve bring up soulmates every chance he gets. Thank god he hadn’t told him who his soulmate is, or that you are staying with him right now.

Connie ends up ordering for Steve despite his semi-valiant attempts at pronouncing the menu items, and the amusement at the table lifts the mood considerably. It’s not often any of them get to laugh anymore, and even a moment of it seems to relax everyone considerably.

“It’s good that you can meet us for lunch.” Javi tells them as they finish their sodas and wait for refills.

"I've got to see my soulmate sometimes," Connie teases lightly, leaning into Steve's side. "Dinners aren't a sure thing, so lunch seemed like the best time."

“And that means I get to eat.” Steve huffs, cutting his eyes back at Javi. His partner has a habit of living off coffee and cigarettes.

"Do you not eat?" Elisa asks Javier, curious that he seems to be getting the ire of his friends.

“Too busy working.” Javi shrugs one shoulder. “We grab something if there’s time.”

"Food is one of life's few pleasures." she returns, although she can think of quite a few other pleasures this man might be fun to indulge in with. "Pleasures are few and far between."

Javi takes another drag off his cigarette and grins at Elisa. “You’re right.” He admits.

"So why deny yourself?" She asks, nodding toward the direction their server is approaching from.

“Why indeed?” Javi thinks about you for a moment, before he pushes that out of his mind. You don’t want to do anything about your status so he shouldn’t worry about it.

"Yeah." Steve looks between the two of them with absolute incredulousness. "Why?" He really feels like he should be a reason but Javi won't say a goddamn word about his soulmate so he can't say too much.

Javi rolls his eyes and leans back as the server sets the meal down in front of you. “Hurry up.” He tells his partner. “We have to go meet Carillo after this.”

"Right." Steve snorts, ready to dig into his lunch right away. "No rest for the wicked."

“Never is.” Javi snorts and wishes he had a beer, or a glass of whiskey. When he left the apartment, you had still been asleep. He wonders what you are up to.

"Are you particularly wicked?" Elisa asks, partially for herself and partially because it amuses her to scandalize Connie with that type of question.

“Some might think so.” He admits, thinking about the question from an outsider’s point of view. “I’m flawed, but at the base of my life, I want to do good.”

That seems to surprise the other Americans at the table, but the Murphys choose not to tease – instead settling into their meal and deciding that a small amount of talk amongst themselves is more polite. Javier and Elisa seem to have slipped into a private conversation at the drop of a hat.

"Is that what you're doing?" She asks, picking up her fork and tilting her head toward the man beside her. Elisa didn't come here to flirt, but the man she has been introduced to is interesting and it won't be the worst thing in the world to chat him up for a half hour or more. "Doing good?"

“Some days it doesn’t seem that way.” Javi admits, eating his own food without really paying attention to it. “Not like health care.” More of what he does is unhealth care.

"Health care is...different than people expect it to be." Elisa tells him honestly. Not to mention that that is not the focus of her life. It was once, but not now. "Sometimes you wonder if you have done any good at all."

“I feel the same way.” He agrees, wondering if it’s that way everywhere, with any job. Maybe his pop was right and growing things was the answer all along.

"Maybe that's part of being human?" She wonders aloud, unconsciously echoing his thoughts.

“Who knew you could get philosophical over lunch?” Javi snorts, although he had actually excelled in philosophy in college.

She smiles, admittedly charmed, and she will have to confess later that Connie was right to warn her about her husband's partner. "I would have looked forward to this lunch even more if I had known."

He smirks slightly and glances over at the server as they refill his drink. Nodding his thanks before he looks back at her. “Well, now you can look forward to the next one.”

“I definitely will.” Elisa agrees, and the smile on her lips promises that she hopes to be looking forward to much more than that.

******

When a familiar car pulls up down the block, Freckles is the one that recognizes it. “Holy shit.” She huffs, turning towards the room where Helena and Vanessa are lounging. Helena hasn’t been taking clients, but she had been here to pack. Gathering all the things that she wanted and giving away the things she didn’t. “She’s here.”

“Who?” Helena asks, her attention to focused on carefully braiding Vanessa’s wet hair to achieve some natural waves after it dries. A new style she wanted to try.

She says your name, lifting a brow as she looks at the other two women. “I wonder if she’s just here for a follow up interview for an article.”

“Can’t be for us…” Helena’s head pops up immediately. She knows that you are their friend, but it would be a simple enough thing to see them outside of a professional setting if you just wanted to spend time with friends. “Can it?”

“I don’t know.” Vanessa frowns slightly. “She wasn’t happy with us knowing about her and Javier. She didn’t say it, but she wasn’t.”

“You think she came because she’s mad at us?” Freckles asks, frowning at the thought.

“I don’t know, but I don’t think she will yell at us, if that’s what you’re thinking.” The other woman shrugs. “Maybe she’s tired of Javi.” She snorts. “She does like eating pussy.”

“You think they’re fucking already?” Helena asks, frowning doubtfully. “They seemed…at odds with each other.”

“I didn’t mean they were fucking.” She corrects. “Just tired of him. Isn’t she staying with him since her apartment was raided?”

“Yeah.” Helena nods, shifting up from the couch to peak through the window. You’re just out of sight so you must be on your way in. “With the sweetest dog.”

“Javier has a dog in his apartment?” Freckles finds that hilarious and throws her head back laughing. “How domestic.”

“You know the guard dog?” Helena and Vanessa laugh along with her. They have, at various points now, all been to your apartment. “The sweet girl who sits at the top of the stairs? She is with them now.”

“But doesn’t she hate men?” Her eyes widen for a moment before she giggles again. “I can’t see Javi sneaking around his own apartment.”

“I can’t imagine he’s hiding from both of them.” Freckles shrugs. “Maybe that’s why she’s here. Like you said.”

"We will see." Helena knows that even if you are upset, you wouldn't take it out on them. You weren't that way, more of a defender than an abuser.

The knock on the door comes a moment later, but the door doesn’t open immediately. Unlike other clients, you have always been respectful of their privacy.

Freckles wanders over to the door and opens it, smiling brightly when she sees you and pulls you in for a hug. "It is good to see you!"

You came here with a purpose. You did. But seeing the three of them together — stunning women who know you far too well — seems to spook you out of your resolve. “H—hi,” you murmur instead, kissing her cheek and giving her a gentle squeeze back. Not too tight. Not too close.

"Come in." She offers immediately, stepping back and opening the door wider. "Unless you are here to just see one of us?" She asks curiously, wondering if it is simply the business of pleasure that brings you here.

“I wasn't sure who would be here.” It feels like more of a confession than you meant it to, but there’s nothing you can do about that now.

“Okay.” Freckles glances over at the other two. “We can leave if you want to talk to Helena?” She offers.

"No–no, I..." You deflate a little, realizing that you're far less sure of this plan than you thought you were while driving here. "I'm sorry...I shouldn't have come."

Vanessa frowns and shakes her head even though Helena is still working on it. “Don’t be silly.” She chides. “You are always welcomed here.”

"I don't want to intrude." Also, you somehow forgot about the full-length mirror in the corner of the room, which has your own reflection staring back at you in ways you would rather avoid.

“Why would you be intruding?” For a moment, Freckles wants to ask if you were checking to see if Javier is here, or has been here, but she doesn’t. You do seem upset, but not at them.

"I don't know." And that is all the more confusing, which brings you from flustered and embarrassed to emotional all at once. A single chin wobble feels like six with the hyperaware state you're in right now and you look around at three pairs of beautiful eyes that only make you feel all the more ridiculous. "I'm sorry, I...I'm not feeling well, I guess." You turn to go, ready to haul ass and hide yourself in Chi-Chi's fur and try to blot out the world, but Helena has gotten up to block the way in a flash.

“Stay.” She urges you, reaching out and taking your shoulders in her hands to physically turn you back towards the room. “Please.”

"I haven't...been myself lately," you admit, looking around at the three of them again.

“Because of what we told you?” Helena frowns, feeling guilty as she guides you over to the bed.

"Not...directly?" She has you sit down, and the other two girls come to sit on the bed with you, gathered around you as if you were all simply here to gossip instead of you having found yourself in the middle of an existential crisis. "It's a long story."

“If you don’t want to talk…” Vanessa senses that you are pent up and she puts her hand on your thigh. “We can always find other ways to entertain ourselves until you do want to talk.”

“I’m not going to make you do that anymore.” The realization, swift and certain, makes you swallow the lump you hadn’t sensed forming in your throat. Coming here may have been a very bad idea, actually… “I—I mean…I thought that’s what I wanted. And why I came. But I don’t think so anymore.”

Helena reaches out and touches your cheek gently. “Javier?” She asks softly, aware that you might be feeling guilty. “He hasn’t come to see us either. If that’s what you want to know.”

"It doesn't have anything to do with Javier." As soon as it's out of your mouth – defensive and swift – you flinch and shake your head. "It doesn't have to do with him being...what he is to me, I mean."

“Oh.” The girls exchange looks but don’t say anything. There’s obviously something wrong, but they won’t push you if you don’t want to talk. They just wait.

It all comes pouring out in the face of their solid sympathy. The fights you and Javier had in the beginning, everything Alex said. The way every passing week that you live with Javier has you convinced that the universe must have been wrong. That you have stopped being able to even glance past a mirror on any sort of daily basis for fear of what you will find staring back at you. "I thought I was just lonely," you admit, under the gaze of three sets of worried eyes. "I thought I just needed to find some company to feel better again. But I walked through your door and just felt like I would be demeaning any of you by asking you to take me to bed."

Helena frowns and Vanessa and Freckles shake their heads in disagreement. “Do you think that we just fuck you because you pay us?” Freckles asks, folding her arms over her chest. “Because we don’t. We enjoy our time with you. In and out of bed.”

"I'm not thinking straight right now." The wording is unfortunate, but at least it's honest. "I don't really trust my own perspective. So while I know, deeply, because you're my friends, that you've never lied to me about enjoying yourself. I just can't..." Searching for the words has you huffing and shaking your head all over again. "I can't believe it or understand it."

“Because of what that bitch said about you?” Vanessa looks mad enough to spit nails. The fight that had been instigated to defend your honor hadn’t made you feel better and the words that you had learned were said about you had cut deep.

"This is...let's call it a lifelong problem." Sitting back against the pillows on the bed, you just drop your face into your hands and sigh. "I'm sorry to have dumped all of this on the three of you. Really."

“After what you have done for us?” Helena rolls her eyes and grabs a pack of cigarettes to offer you one. “You’re crazy.”

"Probably." You admit, letting out a half-laugh and accepting a cigarette.

“He was wrong.” Freckles tells you. “There is nothing wrong with you.” She promises. “You are soft and gorgeous. Warm and sensuous.”

"It's hard to see any kind of truth through my own doubt." Inhaling fire and exhaling smoke is such a seemingly small ritual, but it centers you in a way that you need right now. Like maybe if you had had just sat down and had a cigarette or two or three, you might not have had to bare your soul to these three kind women. To your friends – you have to remember that point. These are your friends. "I don't know if there is any truth. Looks and attraction and all of that...it's all subjective anyway."

“It is subjective.” That all the women can agree on. “My first love, he was ugly by any standards.” Freckles snorts. “But I fucked his brains out every chance I got.”

“You loved him,” you point out, shrugging your shoulders helplessly. “That makes all the difference.”

“And you don’t love Javier.” She murmurs, bewildered by the idea that you might not even be attracted to your soulmate. She reaches over and takes your hand. “Not all soulmates are sexual.” She reminds you. “Javi would never force you.”

“I barely know Javier.” It feels like an entirely lame defense, but it’s true. And besides which you’re not even sure why you feel the need to defend yourself at all. But you do.

“I thought you were staying at his apartment?” Vanessa looks surprised by the fact you haven’t gotten close to him.

“I am.” It’s been nearly impossible to find a place that will let you keep Chi-Chi that you can afford and is reasonably safe, and you have just ended up there indefinitely. “But it isn’t as though we sit around the kitchen cooking meals together and having some sort of domestic fantasy.”

“So you avoid each other?” Helena frowns, not liking that at all. Javier needs a connection with someone, he is dangerously close to burnout and making mistakes and the physicality has been removed, so the emotional was definitely needed. Unless he had found comfort somewhere else.

“Not actively. I mean I sit in the living room reading at night and sometimes he’s home. We both just work constantly.” Shrugging just feels even more pathetic now but you’re not sure what else to do. “We just…don’t talk a lot when the two of us are there.”

"You are both so alike it's almost scary." Vanessa sighs softly and shakes her head.

“Stubborn and frustrating?” You guess, huffing out a half-laugh.

"YES!" All three women laugh when they answer at the same time.

The suddenness of it startles a chuckle out of you, until all four of you are laughing in a heap on the bed together. “This is what I needed,” you sigh, breathing through another laugh as Freckles hugs you to her side. “To see my friends.”

“Why don’t you fuck Javi?” She suggests playfully. “He will have you feeling good.”

“I walked in here so insecure I couldn’t even kiss any of you.” You remind them gently. “I don’t know that I’m in a place to be fucking anyone.”

"What has made you so insecure?" Helena demands, hating that you would feel that way. "Explain it to me."

You all but huff at her, feeling your shoulders round all over again. “Is being called a whale not enough?”

She frowns, reaching out and lifting your chin. "You – the woman who fought to come to Colombia, who was angry that your bosses would not let you go undercover in a brothel – let a tiny dicked man who never made you cum think badly about yourself?" She asks furiously, although her tone is softly censuring. "When your soulmate was so enraged on your behalf that he started a fight for your honor?"

The other girls murmur their agreement, but you feel all the more sheepish at having it put like that. “You make it sound very romantic.”

“It kind of is romantic.” She grins. “Especially knowing that Javier looks very sexy when he’s angry.”

"If you like him when he's angry, you'd probably be amused as hell at how we fight." It's been a week or so since the last time you argued, but the fights are fewer and farther between now, as well as shorter. Last time it had been as stupid and domestic as you getting annoyed about the schedule you worked out for feeding the dog.

“What could you possibly fight about when you barely talk?” Vanessa asks.

"Stupid things."

"You fight because you don't talk." Helena points out. And knowing you both as well as she does, she has it right on the money.

“Why don’t you do something together?” Freckles suggests. “Watch a movie?”

It's such a small, simple thing. A movie. Not a date, not a spectacle. Just a stupid, normal little movie on tv while you sit on the couch. It's...oddly appealing, actually. But you're still unsure. "Does he ever sit still long enough for something like that?"

“I’m sure you could convince him to.” Helena smirks, although she’s convinced Javier is only still when he’s asleep, or on a stakeout.

"You're all so very certain that I could get him to do anything I wanted." It's frustrating in a completely different way. Because you simply can't see how or why they believe it.

“Javi wants a connection with someone.” Vanessa hums. “Even if he won’t admit it. Even if he fights it.”

"Something else I guess we have in common, then." They know you too well for you to pretend otherwise. They know your tendency to run. To hide. To push away emotional connections. Even Alex had been kept at arm's length, but had managed to crack away at that deep desire for affection enough to hurt you with it. The bastard.

“We told you that you are the exact same.” Freckles rolls her eyes and leans in to press her lips to yours playfully with a smack.

"Apparently so." The gesture is received with gratitude, even if your heart feels a little heavier as you start to really believe what your friends have been telling you. "I'm not sure there is anything to do about it, though."

“Why?” Helena asks, wondering what could be so monumental to keep soulmates from being together.

"We sort of talked about it. The first night I stayed with him. When my building was raided." And the number of times you have gone back over it in your head since then is positively shameful. "He pretty much said he's not interested in being together. So it's all...moot. I guess."

“This was after your argument over me?” Helena asks, tsking when you nod. “The first strike.” She whispers to the other girls and they groan and nod in agreement.

"What do you mean 'strike'?" You ask, frowning.

“He rejected you before you could reject him.” She sighs. “Stupid bastard.”

"Alright, well..." Somehow that hurts far worse than you could have predicted, and you lean back in the pillows with a frown, crossing your arms over your chest. "It's still a rejection."

Vanessa huffs and throws up her hands. “Both of you, stubborn!” She hisses. “You would have done the same and you know it. You are two sides to the same mirror.”

"So what am I supposed to do about it, then?" You hiss back, feeling stung and stuck and just a tad insulted to boot. "Beg him to reconsider? Seduce him? Plead with my soulmate to give me another chance? Fuck that."

“One of you will have to bend.” Helena sighs. “It will just be a matter of who.”

"Now you see why I'm so frustrated." So frustrated that you could not see the light for all the dark around you. But your friends have helped that more than you expected.

“I am surprised Javi let you live with him.” Freckles admits. “He has never lived with anyone.”

"He feels guilty." At least that's what you assumed. It probably doesn't do any good to assume, but that is what you've done. "Because it was his team that raided my building."

“And he could have found you a place to live inside of an hour.” Vanessa snorts.

"I've been looking for weeks," you remind her, sheepish and embarrassed that it has taken you so long.

“Javier has been here for years.” She reminds you. “How do you think he got such an amazing apartment?”

"I can't figure out if you're implying that he's letting me look fruitlessly or that he's actively sabotaging my attempts to find somewhere else to live." Either one is deeply confusing and has complicated connotations, and you're not entirely sure what to do about it.

“That’s something you will have to ask him about.” All three women shrug and give you unsure looks.

“Full, meaningful conversation, huh?” You sigh, knowing they’re right. “That’s probably the respectful thing to do.”

“You do what you need to do.” Freckles tells you. “Only you and Javier can determine what happens. Not anyone else.”

“I’d much rather have it just all work itself out for us,” you admit, though the complaint is half-hearted. Having something handed to you means it’s never quite as satisfactory or as lasting.

Helena snorts and leans against you playfully. “You can do that.” She admits. “It will be an interesting journey.”

******

You’re still trying to figure out what the hell kind of journey could possibly be ahead of you when Javier comes home that night. It’s earlier than usual but still not what any normal person would call early. Thankfully you’re both night owls, so you’re in the process of making some dinner when the door opens. Having managed to track down an Italian market in an immigrant community in Bogotá during your first weeks there, you continue to make the pilgrimage whenever you need to stock up on ingredients.

Tonight you wanted comfort food — chunks of beef slowly stewed with onions, garlic, mushrooms, and carrots in tomatoes and red wine. The whole thing will be ladled over creamy, cheesy polenta and you can’t wait. These recipes your father taught you still mean everything to you as a grown woman.

He smells the food from the hallway. Different than the normal scents of cooking from other apartments and yet it is just as mouthwatering. He comes into the door and groans quietly. “I’m back.” He calls out politely.

“You’re home early.” It’s just an observation, but it feels so incredibly domestic in your current setting. “I got a little nostalgic and made a ton of food. Do you like Italian?”

“Love it.” Javi admits. “We had this little place in Laredo that did the little tea candles on the table. Best damn lasagna I’ve ever had.”

“Lasagna is one of my ultimate comfort meals.” And it sticks somewhere in your head that you’ll have to make it for him sometime. Cooking is soothing for you, after all. And an excellent way to say thank you for letting me live in your apartment and refusing to take my rent money every time I offer. “This is my dad’s version of Italian beef stew with polenta.”

He makes an impressed face and nods. “Sounds good. Do I have time for a shower?” He asks, feeling sticky and wanting to wash away the filth of the day.

"Yeah, absolutely." It's suddenly become a whole to-do, this comfort dinner of yours, but you nod. Somehow it's so much easier to see how handsome he is tonight. Like talking with the girls today had softened some of the sharp edges you had imagined before. "We could...turn on a movie while we eat? If you want to?"

He looks over at you in surprise, but your back is to him, stirring the pot at the stove furiously. Either the stew is temperamental or you are avoiding looking at him. “That sounds good.” He admits. “Cabinet under the tv has some tapes.” He tells you. “A few movies my pop sent me.”

"Okay." Stirring the polenta is just a way to distract yourself so he doesn't catch you staring at him, but that's alright. It needs to be stirred anyway. "I'll pick something out and set it up."

“Okay, uh, I’ll just jump in the shower then.” He mumbles, feeling slightly out of sorts now that you’ve agreed to this. It feels intimate, domestic, like an evening at home between soulmates would be.

"Okay." Repeating the word feels awkward, but you try to dismiss the feeling as nerves or tension. Everything is totally fine. It's just a meal. You've eaten together plenty of times before.

Heading back to his room, his movements are completely in autopilot. Unclipping his badge and gun from his hip, setting them down in his dresser and emptying his pockets. Memories of his parents sitting on the old flowered sofa in their living room watching a movie or tv show when he was younger springs to mind. Peeking around the corner from the kitchen and listening to his mother giggle quietly and seeing them kiss before he scurried back to his room.

By the time he comes back out again, you have dinner set up in bowls, two glasses of wine poured from what was left in the bottle, and his well-loved copy of Raiders of the Lost Ark in the VCR. "Bad day?" You ask, trying to be as casual and normal as possible when you catch the moody expression on his face. You probably haven't hit it at all, but you're trying.

“Every day I don’t catch that bastard is a bad day.” Javi snorts and shakes his head. “It’s frustrating. Feeling like we are just spinning our wheels again.”

"I refuse to believe you got nothing done today." He's too clever and too dedicated for that, but you won't belabor the point. "Anyway, it's late and there's not much you can do for the rest of tonight. But dinner is hot and there's booze."

That sounds fucking amazing and Javi groans in appreciation. “You didn’t have to do all this.” He reminds you, gesturing to the meal set out on the coffee table.

"I thought it would be nice." Technically speaking, you didn't make this meal for him. It is a comfort for you with the added side benefit of there being plenty to share with him. But there is something in his voice that stops you from saying so.

Javi sits down and then second guesses himself. “Do you want to sit here?” He asks, getting back up.

"Sit wherever you want." He's nervous and you're trying not to let it put you on edge too. This was just a spur of the moment idea that seemed like a nice way to spend the night. "It is your couch."

He snorts and shrugs. “I don’t care where I sit, but you might have claimed a certain corner as your own.” He jokes.

"Normally that's just whatever corner Chi-Chi has left for me when she sprawls out over the entire couch." You joke. He had let her up on his furniture on day two of having the two of you in his place and she never looked back.

“I feel like she would take up all the space if you gave her half a chance. Even a king-sized bed.” He rolls his eyes and looks over at the dog that is currently sprawled over the floor.

"Oh, believe me." With your bowls and wine sitting on the coffee table, you come closer and sit down in the corner of the couch that he isn't occupying. "Half the time when I crawl into bed at night, she's sprawled out over the entire mattress. So I have no trouble imagining she would take up a king if she can dominate my full size."

Javi frowns. “Then we should get you a bigger bed.” He hadn’t really thought much about the size of the bed in the guest room. It was just there for someone to sleep if needed and until Helena and you, it had never been used.

"You don't..." You had been reaching for your wine glass when he said it and you almost knock it over by accident. "You don't have to do that. I mean...it's your apartment. I'm just staying here through the seemingly interminable search for an apartment. I really can't figure out why it's so damn hard to find a place this time around."

Javi hums and doesn’t comment on that. Instead, he reaches for his own wine glass. “You’ll find one eventually.” He finally says.

"Eventually." The girls' words float through your mind again, and you glance at him out of the corner of your eye as you pick up your glass more securely. "You know...you've been here longer than me. I'm surprised you don't know anyone looking for a tenant."

His eyes slide he to you and then back to the tv where the beginning of the movie is finally starting after the commercials. “I’ve been keeping an ear out for something that would be good for you.” He tells you vaguely.

"Yeah?" Deciding to play the cards you have, you take a sip of your wine and then set the glass down to pick up your bowl. Dinner smells amazing and it's finally going to be cool enough to eat without burning yourself. "The girls seem to think you wouldn't have had any trouble. And that you might not mind having me around."

Javi nearly drops his spoon, hissing a curse and bobbles it for a second before catching it. “Yeah?” He turns to purse his lips at you grumpily. “The girls don’t know everything, do they?”

"Hey," you shrug, playing it off like you aren't fishing for information but giving something up instead. "I thought it was kind of nice that they thought that. Like we might actually be getting used to each other."

He relaxed slightly and turns back to towards the tv and his stew. “You don’t annoy me as much as you first did.” He snorts. “And you cook.”

"So it's purely functional." It's just light teasing, because you're not really questioning him or calling him out. It's just...nice to hear the good humor in his voice. "Maybe...you would let me pay rent in groceries and cooking? Instead of cash?"

“You don’t have to pay rent.” He huffs out, rolling his eyes as you bring up the idea yet again. “I would have to rent this place even if you didn’t sleep in that room.” He points out again. “And the electricity and water are included. It costs me nothing.”

Your hand, spoon and all, stop halfway to your mouth. "You...don't pay rent? Like at all?"

That wasn’t what he said, but he shrugs. “Technically? No.” He admits. “DEA pays for it. And it’s under the set amount they give us. So I make money every month.”

"Well shit..." The fact that you misunderstood him at first doesn't change the meaning of the thing. His housing stipend more than covers the cost of the space you have both been living in. You almost sputter around the fact, but end up biting your lip and shrugging exaggeratedly. "Fine. I'll just cook because I like to and because we both need to eat." Looking over at him though, your head tilts unconsciously. "But...maybe it would be okay if I stop looking for a different place?"

Even though he’s honestly relieved that you are voicing that, Javi jolts one shoulder up in the air casually, as if it doesn’t matter to him. “Up to you.” He grunts as he spoons up a first bite of the stew and polenta. “If you’re comfortable here.”

“Chi-Chi is.” You nod toward the enormous sprawl of an animal nearby. She’s found a corner of rug and isn’t giving it up for anything. “I guess that settles it.” As if the dog’s comfort and happiness were the only factor, you simply start eating, turning your attention to the screen with a smile curling your lips.

It’s probably the first thing that you’ve not argued with him about and he grunts, wondering if it’s because you feel safer here, or if the fact that he had spread word that the American woman looking for an apartment was important to the DEA had scared people off. He doesn’t regret it at all. Eventually someone would know about your connection to him, and he didn’t want that used and you to be harmed.

It’s several minutes later when you laugh to yourself during the movie that you realize how simultaneously comfortable and tense you are here these days. And that the tension isn’t the walking on eggshells kind of tension you’ve had with other people in the past. But something almost eager. Like it’s on the verge of actually being pleasurable. But that might just be the soulmate bond talking. Either way, you go on eating and smiling to yourself, wondering if he feels it too or if you’re just too convinced by what the girls had to say today.

Hearing you snort in amusement; Javi looks over at you to find you grinning. “Have a think for this guy?” He asks with a smirk, nodding towards the tv. Most of the office girls in the typing pool swoon over Harrison Ford.

“Who doesn’t?” You counter, unashamed to admit to it. “Just like every other woman my age, right? Every guy I know is in love with Michelle Pfeiffer. It’s the same deal.”

He chuckles and shrugs. “She’s alright.” He answers. “I don’t really fantasize about women who wouldn’t even know my name.” He admits. “I like the ones I’ve got a chance with.”

“Fantasizing is an integral part of my day to day,” you tell him, glancing away from the screen to see if he’s looking at you. You can’t tell if you’re hoping for it or not, but you’re curious.

He watches you turn your head and look into his eyes. His curiosity getting the best of him. “And what do you fantasize about?” His voice is suddenly raspier, dropping into a lower, more intimate pitch.

“I—” You hadn’t meant it like that. In fact you’d barely thought about what you were saying when you said it. But now that he’s asked? The coil in your guts tightens and you swallow thickly. “Lots of things.” The truth sparks from you like wildfire. “W—waking up wrapped in someone…those little touches that are electric with someone new…the whole, uh…the whole…work surprise thing…”

“Work surprise?” He frowns slightly. “Like fucking in the broom closet?” He asks, trying to understand you a bit better even if this is more than he ever thought he would know. You aren’t interested in him, but he’s curious.

“Not what I was thinking.” You laugh, though, trying not to pay attention to the way your skin tingles in response to the idea of him dragging you into a closet for anything remotely sexual. “I was thinking more like…the romance of a surprise. My mom used to make excuses to go surprise my dad at work every single week. Just because she knew how hard he worked, and she wanted there to always be something to look forward to on the hardest days.”

“Your mom would go to your dad’s work to fuck him?” He remembers that your dad was a chef and he chuckles. “I heard some kinky shit happens in a kitchen.”

“I mean…” The realization is striking, that that probably is exactly what was happening, and you sputter for a few seconds out of sheer surprise. “She always told us she was just going to spend his breaks with him, but…probably.”

He laughs quietly, watching the realization rush over your face. “It’s always weird to think about your parents fucking.” He reaches over and pats your thigh. “It’s okay.”

“She just always made it sound very romantic,” you admit, dissolving into laughter.

“Fucking can be romantic.” He chuckles. “And romance can be a passionate quickie.” He snorts, “My parents probably used the hay loft more than I did.”

“See, stripping down in a hayloft to roll around on a blanket does sound romantic.” Or maybe you just have a little bit of a cowboy kink. Who knows? “A restaurant stock room? Not so much.”

He smirks as he shrugs. “Depends on what gets you going.” He argues playfully. “Maybe mayonnaise did it for them.”

“Gross.” But you’re still laughing, the movie forgotten in the background and your dinner sitting in your lap. “I can readily say mayonnaise does not get me going.”

He chuckles as he spoons up another bite of the meal. He almost tells you that he will note that, but you might not want him to do that. “Oh I love this part.” He snorts as he catches sight of the movie again.

Indy’s exploits suddenly seem less interesting to you, but you watch the movie and continue to eat with an undeniable warmth building in your chest.

The problem is that Javi wants to keep talking to you, but he also doesn’t want you to think that all he wants to talk to you about is sex. It’s frankly surprising to a man who enjoys sex and women as much as he does, but sex with you seems to be about as obtainable as climbing Mt. Everest.

“I always wanted to be Marion Ravenwood when I was a teenager…” It comes out as just a little murmur, but it’s true. Marion had been one of your favorite role models. “Her or Lois Lane.”

“She was always way too good for Indy.” Javi points at the screen with his spoon as he reaches for his wine with the other hand. “But I’m sure Lois speaks to you more because of that journalism connection.”

“She’s the one I went with in the end, I guess.” The comment that Marion is too good for Indy makes you glance over at him again and consider. He has that whole dashing-and-daring thing that Indy does —would he think a Marion was too good for him too?

“You’ve got a little bit of Marion in there too.” Javi tells you as he sits back with his wine and takes another sip. It’s pretty damn good with the meal. “Digging for a story down here is kind of like digging for the fucking Arc.” He huffs, halfway grinning.

“I’ve got Marion from plenty of things.” You shrug your shoulders. “Stubborn, persistent, cocky at the wrong times and wildly insecure at others. Plus the drinking.”

“Insecure?” He frowns. “Why? You’re a ball buster. You shouldn’t have an insecure bone in your body.”

“Seriously?” You almost slip and call him Javi, even though you’ve never called him anything but Javier in the whole time you’ve known him. The girls all call him Javi and it feels so intimate. “It’s a total front.”

"It's a good one." He admits. "When you want to exude confidence, you do." He hums to himself as he picks up his bowl again. "You'd make a hell of an actress if it's a front."

“I grew up with older brothers,” you remind him. “You learn to at least pretend to have a spine, or you end up trampled. In my case, I was then stupid enough to go into journalism. So it’s just more men everywhere, and these ones all want me to fail miserably.” Shrugging again, you put down your empty bowl and reach for your wine glass. “Maybe some of it stuck, I don’t know.”

"I don't fucking understand that." Javi shakes his head. "Yeah, there are certain jobs I don't like seeing a woman in. Ones where they are in danger, but that's my own bullshit and I would never want someone to fail."

“Then you were raised with a hell of a lot more respect than any of my colleagues.” There’s nothing really to do about it but keep your head down and keep fighting, so you just wave one hand as if it doesn’t matter. “Which is a comfort, by the way.”

"You don't watch a woman run a ranch, which is fucking hard work, while her husband is in the hospital and not realize that there isn't a whole hell of a lot women can't do." Javi might be old fashioned in some sense, but he had also been raised by a tough woman.

“Cheers to your mother, then.” You raise your glass to that without hesitation. “She sounds like she was a bad ass.”

"She was." He chuckles and lifts his drink in a toast to her. "Just like I'm sure your father was a hell of a man."

“Wherever they are, I’m sure they’re watching us and laughing together.” Tapping your glass against his, the clink rings out, and you share that drink to your parents with pride.

He shakes his head, knowing that his mama is laughing for certain. “She always warned me I would find someone who wouldn’t put up with me just because I was charming.”

“She wanted somebody who saw you for you.” That’s an admirable thing for a parent. For anyone to want for their loved one. “My Dad always said I’d find someone who wouldn’t put up with me talking shit about myself.” He actually said that your soulmate would be that person, but you won’t put that on Javier.

“You shouldn’t talk shit about yourself.” Javi agrees with that. “You have the power in any situation romantically.”

"Absolutely not." The very idea of it earns him a snort from you, and you practically drain your glass to keep from laughing out loud. "That is so far from the truth."

“Why do you think that’s not true?” He asks, curious to hear this answer.

"Because," you reason, finding that last sip of wine and putting your glass back down on the coffee table. "If I had any kind of upper hand, I wouldn't have spent most of my romantic life, I wouldn't have had to settle for weasels that I basically had to beg for attention."

“You have a pussy.” Javi reminds you. “And a nice set of tits and ass.” He rolls his eyes. “If you put your mind to it, you could have all those weasels begging you for attention.”

"That's...not really how it works for girls like me." At least, not in your experience. Or the experience of most other women your size that you've known throughout your life. It makes you lips turn down in a frown and you shift slightly in your place on the couch.

“I shouldn’t have said anything.” Javi frowns when he sees you pull in on yourself and turns back to his bowl. “I’m sorry.”

"No." Breathing out, you shake your head again and wipe your hands on your jeans. "No, my shitty self-esteem is not your responsibility. Sorry. Please don't let it ruin tonight."

“It’s not ruining the night.” Javi promises you. “I just didn’t want to make you feel bad.”

"You aren't." You assure him quickly. "I just...I guess I wish it was true. That it was just that easy."

“Just don’t let anyone give you shit.” He tells you. “You are a good girl.”

"Careful." Before you can stop yourself, the joking ball buster comes out of you all over again. "I might like being praised a little more than other girls."

He stares at you a moment before he snorts and shakes his head. “That’s the kind of attitude you should have.”

"Shameless vampy flirt?" You ask, with one eyebrow raised.

“Vampy?” He lifts a brow of his own in challenge.

Competitive. Your teachers and your brothers and your parents and everyone else in your childhood had always called you competitive. Not in the athletic sort of way. But in the way where you could never back down from a challenge. Almost instantly you're tossing the collar of your sweatshirt off your shoulder and batting your eyelashes, shaping your lips into a pout. "Is that what does it for you? Vampy?"

His cock twitches violently and if you weren’t who you are, he would be on you in a second. Taking you up on the invitation in that look. But you aren’t looking for him to jump you. “Maybe.” He manages, trying to not let it seem like it’s taking everything he had in him to act normal.

Something changes. Something in his eyes flashes. He tenses. Something in the moment reacts so assuredly that your heart speeds up and you unconsciously lick your lips, tongue darting out to wet them like some sort of silent and unintentional test to see if he's watching you as carefully and with as devoted focus as you're watching him. If you – when did you get to this place and why didn't you notice before? – actually want to kiss him as badly as you think you do in this moment.

Javi practically dumps the bowl onto the coffee table as he stands up. You licking your lips bothering him so much he has to move. “Gotta pee.” He explains. “Keep watching the movie.”

"I—uh—" He seems to panic and it deflates you instantly, to the point where all you can do is sputter and shrink back in your seat, shoving your stupid sweater back up on your stupid shoulder. "Right. Okay."

Javi does have to pee, but it takes a moment to get the half chub he has going on to go down. “She’s fucking teasing you.” He reminds himself. “Don’t fucking touch her. Just don’t.”

He was just fucking tease you. You reprimand yourself over and over, trying to get yourself under control before he comes back. Before you give yourself away. Before you have to admit to anyone but yourself that you actually had been hoping that he would take you up on the offer. Calm the fuck down!

After a few minutes, Javi slowly walks back down the hall. “Want a beer?” He asks, hovering between the kitchen and the living room. “Water?”

"Water is fine." More alcohol is probably a bad idea. You don't want to get tipsy and do something that will make things awkward again. "Thank you."

“Welcome.” He gets two glasses of water, figuring he better lay off the booze himself. He’s changed the mood and he doesn’t know how to go back to that somewhat easy vibe but he knows more alcohol won’t help.

With a little less than half the movie left, he brings back two glasses of water and you thank him for your again as he settles back down on the couch. Chi-Chi had barely stirred while he was gone but now she shifts, getting up from her corner of rug to move over four feet and flop down in front of the sofa as if she means to tell you that neither of you is allowed to get up again.

Javi snorts to himself and tries to watch the movie again, spreading his arm across the back of the couch towards you. Legs splayed a little to be comfortable and he takes a sip of his water, “Want a cigarette?”

"Sure. Thanks." You've gotten into the habit of sharing packs while you're in the apartment together so this, at least, is relatively normal. Or at least as normal as the two of you are bound to get.

Sharing a cigarette is normal. He reaches for the pack and puts one in his mouth and flicks the lighter. Taking a drag off the smoke before handing it to you.

It's such a little motion, and so practical, but after that moment of flirtation where you could have sworn you saw attraction in his eyes, it feels so intimate to smoke from a cigarette that was just held by his lips. Like if you try hard enough you could taste him instead.

Shit. You really have to stop thinking like this...

Javi leans back and sighs softly. “Needed that.” He admits. “Need to fucking quit, but I’m already cutting back on other things.”

“I keep thinking I should quit,” you admit, but take another drag when he passes it back to you. “But I never do.”

“Stress.” Javi snorts. “Addiction. Habit. Who knows?” He looks at it seriously and then takes another drag. “Smoking a cigarette is more satisfying than chewing some fucking gum.”

“I honestly don’t even like gum that much.” It’s stupid, that little insignificant piece of trivia about yourself, but you feel like you’ve made some tiny bit of headway tonight. At the very least, if you’re going to be roommates for a while, sharing things seems easier than expecting him to read your mind.

“It’s okay.” He doesn’t mind it, but the burn of the nicotine in his chest is what he really wants. “But it doesn’t beat this.” He hands the cigarette back to you, noticing the filter is stained with the last bits of wine from one of your lips, resembling lipstick.

You both silently realize it about the same time, and the smile tugging at your lips grows ever so slightly in silent response. Acts of connection, no matter how small, are making you happy tonight.

“Got another carton in the car.” Javi tells you. “I’ll bring them in before I leave in the morning.”

“Thank you. It’s so much easier than high-tailing it across the city to that American market near my old place.” You’re learning his neighborhood— your neighborhood— little by little. It will be good to put it more of an effort now. Since you’re officially staying put.

“Yeah.” Javi frowns slightly. “Be careful if you go back over on that side of town.” He tells you. “Escobar wasn’t happy about his sicarios.”

“Shit…” You wipe one hand down your face and sigh. “Inez found a new place in that same neighborhood. I’ll have to tell her to watch out.”

“Yeah.” He knows you still talk to the bartender from the club you lived under. She was also your neighbor. “Let her know.”

“Thanks, Javi.” It slips this time, just a nickname. Just a small act of intimacy. But it slips without you even realizing it.

He hears the softness of his nickname on your tongue. Making him want to reach out. To pull you closer to him, but he doesn’t. You two are in this awkward, yet comforting place and he doesn’t want to rock the boat. “You’re welcome.”

______

Master Tags: @pixiedurango @chattychell @winter-fox-queen @lady-himbo @artsymaddie @princess76179 @paintballkid711 @missminkylove @pedrosbrat @ew-erin @sarahjkl82-blog @sharkbait77 @justanotherblonde23 @lv7867 @recklesswit @mylittlesenaar @f0rever15elf @gallowsjoker @steeevienicks @athalien @sherala007 @skvatnavle @thatpinkshirt @jaime1110 @girlimjusttryingtoreadfanfics @goodgriefitsawildworld @greeneyedblondie44 @littlemousedroid @harriedandharassed @churchill356 @ajathegreats-blog @haylzcyon   @beardsanddetectives @kirsteng42 @ladykatakuri @adancedivasmom @madiebear @tanzthompson @emilianamason @bigsdinger @xocalliexo @pedr0swh0r3 @avaleineandafryingpan @charlyrmv @avidreader73 @iceclaw101 @loveslide @elegantduckturtle @becsworld @julesonrecord @its-nebuleuse @itsrubberbisquit @mikeyswifie @guelyury @lizzie-cakes @for-a-longlongtime @vabeachazn @purplerain04 @weho2kcmo @madnessofadaydreamer

BFoW: @haileymorelikestupid @theorganasolo @missladym1981 @alexiamargot06 @southernbe

[lilgarbitch]

Running in Circles- Two

Pairing: Noah Sebastian x Reader

CW: suggestive scenes, alcohol

Word Count: 8.5k

Author’s Note: I won’t base Y/N or her band on any specific artist or band, but I will use certain artists multiple times purely because I either want the lyrics/ genre of song to fit a theme or for particular surprises.

(Author’s Note pt 2: It’s 4:30 am and I decided I needed to stop rereading and rewriting this and just finally publish it, and as I was getting this ready, Running in Circles came on and pfft that’s a sign if I ever seen one)

Part One

Noah

A loud groan escapes my lips as I run a hand over my face. She looks so much different than she did all those years back. Yet, the exact same. And she was going to kill me. I had to hide it, but everything she did had such a substantial impact on me. From her personality, to her tattoos, her voice, and her absolutely beating my ass in Mario Kart. She was the most perfect person I had ever met. 

Being reminded, I look down at the switch in front of me and pull out my phone to take a quick picture of our score. I open Instagram and go to post it on my story, about to tag her, before remembering I haven’t actually followed her on my main account yet. I type in her username, hit follow, and then go back to posting the picture. 

It wasn’t until it was fully uploaded and I looked over at the boys that I felt the giant smile I had on my face. After catching some looks from them, I played it off, trying to let it falter, but a small smile still stayed. 

“Yeah… That’s her. For sure. I- I felt it again the second she introduced herself to me. I don’t know if I wanted to believe it, even after seeing those pictures. But seeing her in person again today just… sealed the deal.” I answered them, throwing my head back onto the couch and staring up at the ceiling. 

I just couldn’t help but think of all the memories I’ll get to make this tour. Don’t get me wrong, every tour was excellent, from traveling to beautiful places, trying new restaurants, and spending it with my brothers. But this tour would definitely be one to remember. I didn’t even care if she felt the same way, as long as we could become close and I could spend time with her. I’m just happy I finally found the girl that has plagued my mind for the longest time.

The boys and I were about to play our first festival. We managed to catch a bit of Erra’s set but had to run back to our stage to finish setting everything up and doing our warmups to get ready. I was more nervous than I’d ever been, but I knew that if I just got through this set, I would feel like I could perform anywhere. Plus, we’ve had technical difficulties in the past, but everything worked out well, and none of them were our fault. I practiced enough this week that I could probably do the whole show in my sleep. So there was nothing that could go wrong, right? 

We got the signal that we were going on any moment now, and did our best to hype each other up. We all gave Folio a quick high five before he ran out on stage. Instantly, I could hear the entire crowd cheering, and that was all I needed to be ready for this show. 

Jolly and Nick ran out a few moments later, and now I just had to wait for my signal. Shaking out my hands and feet, ensuring every last drop of my nerves were gone, I heard the music start. The crowd was louder than ever, and I felt my confidence building more and more every second. With one last exhale, my cue to run on stage was now. 

I walk around the stage and get a good view of the crowd's size as I start singing Mercy. The passion I felt in this moment was unlike anything else. The crowd cheering and singing along with every word, trying to reach and carry every note as I do. The hands in the air. The range of age and style. These people all came together to hear me, or at least wanted to hear me for the first time. I felt like a fucking king in this moment. 

Over the next few songs, I really started to get into the zone. I felt connected with each of my brothers on stage with me, every person in the crowd in front of me, and especially the lyrics as I sang them. I sang the last line of Malice and let the arm that held my mic fall, letting my breathing relax. Turning to my brothers on stage with me, I gave them all a proud smile. They all returned it in their own way as they set up for our next song. Jolly gave me a laughing smile, and Nick gave me a smirk. I walked towards Folio behind me and reached out my hand, him grasping it over his drums and giving me the brightest smile. We’ve come so far and nothing was stopping us now. 

Stepping away and back towards the front of the stage, Jolly and Nick start the first notes of The Worst In Me, Folio immediately following their lead. Putting back on a more serious demeanor, I get closer to the people in front. 

Is there nothing left to keep myself awake?

To keep these walls from caving in?

When all they ever do is try to bend and break?

Is there forgiveness in the end?

I lower to a crouch as I sing the lyrics, scanning my eyes over the people at the barricade. Their faces light up as I look at each of them and try my hardest not to smile at the reaction. 

I had you in my grip, but you’re starting to slip

Bring out the worst in me

And now it’s come to end, I think I’m giving in

You set my demons free

I watch as everyone sings along with me. I hold out my hand to them, and a few reach out, but they’re all just too far to touch. I stand and move more to my left to see more faces, not wanting to prioritize the ones right in front of me. 

I need relief, a failure’s coming on

Just breathe in deep, It’s taking far too long

I need relief, this weakness carries on

Please be a dream, or was it all along?

I stand back up and let my eyes roam over the ones standing behind those before as I continue to sing along, making eye contact with everyone I can.

It’s better when you’re with me

My eyes trail across their faces.

But it’s better left unsaid

I see them all singing along.

It’s better when I’m empty

I even catch a few tears falling down some of their faces. Matching those that fell down mine as I wrote some of these songs.

But I still let you in

Then, there it was. There she was. I had never seen her before, yet something in me knew her. I tried to move my eyes past her, but they stayed glued to hers.

It’s better when you’re with me

She wasn’t moving or singing along with the others. It was like we were both locked in a trance. I felt electricity flow through my entire body. I felt like I had been transported to a different world.

But that’s better left unsaid

When she blinked, the movement reminded my brain where I was. Reminding itself what was happening

It’s better when I’m empty

But I’ll still let you in

I was thankful a part of my brain kept working, singing on complete autopilot. Because nothing else wanted to work. I couldn’t move my eyes. My legs stayed glued to the floor. I had to try to fully rip myself away from the moment to even regain control of my body. 

Blinking a few times, I finally move from my entranced state and finish the song, keeping my eyes on anyone but her. As the song ended, I turned my back to the crowd, closed my eyes, and let out the biggest exhale. I had to refocus. We still had half a setlist to get through. 

I looked up at my band, and Nick gave me a weird look, silently asking what was wrong. I completely ignored him as I turned back around and got ready for Said & Done.

With my mind almost on full autopilot, I managed to push through and finish the rest of the set. Cheers roared through the crowd. I pulled out one earpiece to listen to them, hoping they bring me back to reality. The boys and I all walked to the front of the stage, bowed, and said our thanks, to the people in the crowd and to the festival for having us before tossing random shit out to the crowd and saying our goodbyes. 

As we were heading off the stage, it was almost like I could no longer fight it as what felt like a magnet pulled my eyes back to hers. She was still looking at me, and a shiver ran through my body. I almost think I saw the same happen to her, but I forced myself to pull away and off the stage before I got completely stuck to her again. I did my best to shake off the feeling and push it to the back of my mind as we walked back to our tour bus. The boys were eerily quiet as we walked back, or maybe my brain was just so overwhelmed with emotions that I was blocking everything out. All I knew was that I needed to sit down. 

Finally reaching the bus, I sit on one of the couches in the lounge and throw my head back, shutting my eyes. I wasn’t sure if I was trying to replay the moment or force everything out of my brain. All I knew was that the only thing I could see in my head was her eyes. And I couldn’t stop wondering what the hell that was. Who was she? What was that feeling? Why did it truly feel as if my body was being pulled towards her? Wh-

“Noah!”

My eyes shot open as I quickly sat up and looked at the boys all sitting around me.

“What?” I blandly ask, trying to play it off. I got a few odd stares in response.

“What the hell was that?” Ruffilo asked. 

Shaking my head, I replied weakly, “ I don’t know what you’re talking about,” which caused him to raise an eyebrow at me. 

“Well, first of all, something weird happened during one of the songs, and then you looked completely out of it the rest of the set, and then you ignored all of us on the walk back and for the last few minutes as we tried talking to you.” He gave me a stern look, telling me there was no lying or getting out of this. I let out a sigh and ran my hand over my face, trying to collect my thoughts. 

“I..really don’t know. I can’t even explain without sounding stupid.” Then Jolly sat beside me and put a hand on my shoulder. 

“Come on, you say stupid shit all the time; I think we’ll understand some of it,” Jolly said, causing me to give him a weak smile. 

With another sigh, I started talking. I tried my best to explain the weird trance I got put under. About how I got locked in her eyes until I literally had to rip myself away. That caused Jolly to ask if she was just really hot, to which I responded with a smack to his chest. I explained how, for the rest of the show, it was like there was a magnet I was fighting against. One that finally pulled me back in before we left the stage, and that time it felt even harder to rip away from. I did my absolute best to explain the feelings that shot through my body the entire time, but since they were nothing like I had ever felt before, I had nothing to compare them to. By the end of the venting, I had my face in my hands, trying to reground myself. 

I sat up and ran my hand through my hair as I looked back up at them all. Each more confused than the last. 

“I really don’t know how to help you here, bro. I mean, it sounds like some divine intervention shit.” Folio finally said. That caused a groan to erupt from my throat. If it really was, why now? To a person I will probably never see again? I’ll never be able to find her again. What the fuck is even happening.

2 Years Later

The thought comes and goes. It’s more like a dull yet burning yearning in my chest that hasn’t left since that day. It’s been so long that I’m starting to get convinced that I’m just going to be stuck, thinking of those eyes, until the day I die. 

I pull out my phone and look at the time, groaning when I see that it’s now two in the morning and I am just lying here, stuck in this endless cycle of thought once again. Then my eyes land on the date, causing an even larger groan. It’s been over two years since that show. It’s been over two years of the same ruminating thoughts. I roll over in my bed and open my phone, knowing that just sitting here in my thoughts will keep me up all night anyway, so I might as well try to distract myself. 

I open Instagram and switch over to my alternative account, one that can actually follow interesting things without fans speculating on why I follow so many people. I scroll through the timeline, liking a post here and there, seeing a few bands posting news or a few memes that actually put a smile on my face. Getting stuck in the endless doomscroll, I finally landed on a post that genuinely piqued my interest. It was one of Bryan’s photography friends who liked to travel and find new bands to help out with pictures. I always loved discovering new bands to listen to, so just seeing his username caught my attention, but then I finally looked at the pictures he posted. 

Oh, fuck. It was her. It was her. I could recognize the face anywhere. Even though I caught it for barely a minute, it was so engraved into the folds of my brain; seeing it every single time I closed my eyes, there was no way I couldn’t recognize it. I noticed she now had a neck tattoo that she hadn’t before, peeking over her crew neck shirt from the first picture. I scrolled through the photos, almost burning a hole through my phone as I eyed up each one with her in it. She looked utterly beautiful as she performed. I finally let my eyes fall on the caption. 

‘So incredibly thankful to have found this amazing band while traveling around the East Coast. Check them out at @ Praisingdeities and definitely check out their music. It was unlike anything I have ever heard.”

Praising Deities. Now, that’s something I could absolutely do now that I finally found her. I click on their username, it sending me to their page, before instantly following them. I scrolled through their pictures, not getting enough of finally seeing her again. I saw that there were people tagged in one of their posts, so I clicked on it and saw that one tag was right on her. @ PraisingY/N. Clicking on that, I got sent to her personal page. God, she was fucking beautiful. I was glued to every picture of her face. I almost had to force myself to scroll to the next post, my eyes not wanting to leave the last. 

Finally realizing I had spent way too long staring at her, I exited the picture and scrolled back up to the top of her page, ready to tell someone that I had found her, when I saw her bio. 

“Goddess’ out now!”

Fumbling with my phone, I hurriedly opened Spotify and typed in their name, instantly getting results. I clicked on the song ‘Goddess.’ Within seconds, my ears were filled with the most beautiful voice I had ever heard. 

You’re like a goddess in disguise

I’m drowning slowly in your eyes

It’s like you kill me by design

You’re all I desire.

Fucking tell me about it. I wouldn’t blame anyone if they wrote this song about her. With a surge of energy running through me, I bold up out of bed and out of my room. I peek into the hallway, seeing that both of the Nick’s doors were closed, but Jolly’s was open. Glancing into his room, seeing that he wasn’t there, I ran down the stairs, searching everywhere for him. Finally, I make it to our studio and practically burst through the door. Jolly and Folio are sitting in there, chatting, as Jolly held his guitar. They both look up at me in shock the second I come through the door, and I almost run to them, holding out my phone, Y/N’s Instagram account pulled up on it. Jolly’s hand reached out first, so I handed the phone to him as he looked at it confused. 

“IT’S HER! THAT’S HER!” I say, not trying to yell but accidentally doing so. Nick leaned over in his chair towards Jolly as Jolly pulled the phone closer to his face to get a better look. 

“Her? Like..her her? The one from the show?” Nick asked, still looking over at my phone in Jolly’s hands.

“Yes! I found her! She’s in a band. Oh my god, guys. She sings, and it’s like heaven. She’s like heaven. I can’t believe I fucking found her.” I say, practically pacing around the room. Nick pulls his phone out and pulls her band up on Spotify, hitting a random song, and instantly, her beautiful voice plays through the speakers.

I wear my scary mask 

When I’m afraid I don't belong

You can’t read my brain

Until it’s off

Not comin' off

Not comin' off

I stopped and stared at them as they stared at her profile on my phone, waiting for any reaction from them. They hear this, right? As I watch them scroll on my phone, looking over her selfies and group pictures of the band, one of them occasionally pointing out a tattoo or an instrument, suddenly, her voice changes, causing us to immediately stare at Nick’s phone as she starts screaming.

I’m alright

I’m alright

I’m alright

You ain’t gonna see me tonight

We all look at each other, Jolly with amazement, me with shock, and Nick with a smug look. 

“I think you found your perfect match, Noah,” Nick said with a chuckle. I felt heat rise to my cheeks. She was perfect, wasn’t she?

We talked about it until we all decided it was too late and should head to bed. I’m not sure whether it was finally finding her, or if the amount of energy I just let out finally wore me down, but I was able to get some sleep. The next day, Jolly mentioned that he followed the guitarist of their band and reached out, telling him that he loved their sound, which came with the response from their guitarist, Thomas, fangirling a little bit from the recognition. Jolly said that they had a lot in common and had been chatting about music and other interests, which was fucking fantastic.

I get brought out of my daydreaming to the sound of her voice floating through the air as they do their soundcheck. I sit up and look at the boys whose attention was also caught by the noise. I stand up and go to walk towards the stage, not so far that I’m within their view, but just enough that I can watch her as she sings a few lines of a song with her eyes on the front of stage crew, looking for confirmation that everything sounds good. Each member tests out their instruments, and then they do a small run-through of a song before heading off stage. I turn around and walk back to the boys, or try to, before realizing they were all standing behind me, watching as well. 

I give Ruffilo a small smack on the arm, laughing as we hurry back so we don’t get caught. Sitting back down in random seats, trying to play off that anything suspicious happened, her band came into the room, with the stage manager trailing behind them. 

“Alright, boys, you’re up.” the stage manager commanded, making us all stand and follow her. 

“You guys sounded amazing. I can’t wait to see your full set,” I heard Folio tell the other band from behind me as we passed them. I turned and went to give them a proud smile as a way of agreeing, but I instantly caught Y/N’s gaze, getting locked in. Within a split second, I got lost in them, only being able to break out when Jolly patted my shoulder to keep me moving. With a few blinks, I finally sent them a warm smile, quickly turned my head, and returned to heading towards the stage. 

Y/N

Bad Omens does their soundcheck as my band and I plan out our set, going over if our setlist was exactly how we wanted it to be, what we wanted to add in, where the best break would be, and what surprises we should add, as it’s something we loved doing to connect with the crowd. The next hour was a bit of a rush as the crew ensured everything was perfect, and both bands checked to ensure everything was ready. The next thing we knew, we were about to head on stage. 

I peek around the side of the stage and see the massive crowd, all either chatting with each other, hyping themselves up, or singing along with the pre-show playlist. This was is. We’ve had large shows in the past, but this was our biggest yet. Bad Omens being the first well known band to let us tour with them. I jumped up and down a bit, shaking off my nerves as my band and I got ready. Suddenly, the venue's lights darken, and the stage lights turn green, our signature color. 

“You ready?” I hear in my ear. I turn and see Cam looking down at me with a huge smile, causing me to instantly return it and give him a nod. He pats my back a few times before running on stage, waving to the crowd as they all start cheering. I watch as he sits behind his drum set and spins his sticks a few times, both putting on a show and letting out some nerves. Tommy and Tony follow lead, each giving me another pat on the back as they pass me and head to their designated sides of the stage, earning more cheers and screaming from the crowd. 

All three make a little noise to get the crowd even crazier, Tony strumming loudly, followed by Tommy playing a little riff, then Cam playing a few beats. My face was starting to hurt from the smile on my face as I watched it all play out in front of me. 

They all started the beginning of our first song, causing the crowd to quiet down and signaling that it was now my turn. After a few moments, I wait until the vocals start and walk on stage. I sing the first few lines of our first song, and the crowd goes insane and starts singing along. I had to force myself to keep my composure and not smile too wide. Over the next few songs, singing along with Tony in some of them, and having a chorus of fans in front of me join in on the ones they know, I felt so connected to everyone. I occasionally glanced at my band and felt so proud of us. It felt like being on top of the world, with my best friends standing with me the whole time. 

We finished the fourth song of our set, and I mentally prepared for our next one. It was ‘Goddess.’ I wrote this one after Tommy forced me to start journalling my feelings when I wouldn’t talk to anyone about why I was always so stuck in my head. I took all the least heartbreaking feelings out of my entries and then quickly wrote down some of the things I said and tried to make them sound as good as they could as lyrics. After the band looked over it, we made some changes, making it flow better, and then Tony mentioned that maybe we could gender-bend it to make it make more sense and cause less confusion about who I could be singing about. I won’t lie; most of our newer songs were about Noah, or at least he was in mind when writing them, but this one was probably our most blunt song, the words being my exact thoughts and feelings. 

With a cue from the band, I began singing, them joining in later.

You’re like a goddess in disguise

I’m drowning slowly in your eyes

It’s like you kill me by design

You’re all I desire

Tony and Tommy join in as we sing the next few lines.

You’re like a goddess in disguise

I’m drowning slowly in your eyes

I could cross the great divide

But only you decide

Then the music finally starts, and I get a moment to breathe before continuing, knowing that the person I wrote this about was nearby, and I honestly didn’t know how to handle it. I look forward and see everyone having an amazing time, some acting as if this was their favorite song with how they even mimicked the guitar. My eyes continued to trail over the people and then towards my bandmates as they played. Then something caught my eye. On the side stage, I saw Noah and Jolly rocking out to the music. Who knows how long they’ve been there, but now I didn’t know what to do, Noah’s presence throwing me off. With a deep exhale, I began to sing the next part, trying to rip my eyes away from Noah.

Tell me you love me

He was singing along.

Tell me you need me

He knew the words. He was staring right at me, singing along, and I couldn’t help but stare back.

Tell me you’ll never ever think about wanting to leave me

It was almost like we were singing to each other. If only he knew that I genuinely was singing to him and had been since I wrote the song.

You’re Aphrodite

God I’m in love

I tried breaking away from his gaze, but between the magnetism forcing it together and my deep desire of wanting to sing this to him for the longest time, I just couldn’t.

It’s time you ascend to your rightful place perched on your throne up above

He actually knew every word. It caught me so off guard. 

Go and take your seat at Mount Olympus

I’ll do anything for you my temptress

Even if I’m innocent, I’d confess

Kill to watch you undress

Feel your body close pressed up

The dark look in his eyes sent fire straight to my core.

Against mine

He stood there, crossing his arms against his chest, staring at me with a look I couldn’t explain.

Heart beats

In Time

Feel your chest rise

You’re all I desire

A look I could explain. A look I absolutely mirrored as I continued singing the song. A look full of desire. One that could part the Red Sea just so we could meet in the middle. I knew my feelings when I wrote this song. I knew the feelings I had when I’d stare at new pictures or videos of him at night. My eyes trailed down from his eyes to his lips as he sang along, ones I needed to feel on mine, then his neck, covered in a tattoo I so desperately wanted to touch, down to his muscular arms that have caused unspeakable thoughts to cross my mind many many times, but before I let them move down further, even though I so badly wanted to, I brought my eyes go back up to his, before finally getting the power to pull them away and look back towards the crowd as I finished the song. 

Everyone cheered as the song ended, and I did everything in my power not to look back at Noah to see his reaction. I refused to falter, especially while on stage.

We played the rest of our set, even a random song that someone in the crowd requested as it was a part of our show. At one point, while looking at my bandmates, my eyes glanced at where Jolly and Noah once stood, but they were no longer there, probably getting ready to go on stage themselves. Thank god. Hopefully, I wouldn’t run into any of them until the show was over, and I could let myself cool down in the meantime. 

We said our thanks to the crowd and hyped them up for the band they were mainly here to see before leaving the stage. The boys all ran to me, and we had a small group hug as we made our way backstage. They talked about how amazing our show was and how fun it was to have such a large crowd, especially with people singing along. I laughed and agreed, letting them take my mind off everything until we finally reached the room and sat down. Jolly and Nick were still there, chatting and messing around until we joined them. They both stood up and ran to us, giving us their praise. I looked around and let out a sigh of relief when I saw that Noah wasn’t there and I just let the boys talk until Bad Omens had to head on stage. 

Eventually, Ruffilo joined us, also sending compliments before chatting with Folio and Jolly. 

“Yeah, I don’t know where he went. He was with me watching their set for a while, but after a few songs, he just left, and I haven’t seen him since,” Jolly responded after Ruffilo asked if anyone had seen Noah. 

“We go on in less than ten minutes, so whatever the hell he’s doing, he better be quick,” Folio said as he pointed the drumsticks in his hand toward the stage. 

“If he’s not here in the next few minutes, I’m sending out a search party,” Ruffilo groaned out.

I hope he’s okay. But depending on which song he left after, I have a slight idea on where he could be. I immediately shook that thought out of my head, unable to handle if it went any further, and turned to my boys and tried letting them be my distraction from my mind as we all waited to see if we had to help search for the missing boy. 

Noah

I stood in the bathroom, washing my hands and trying to collect my thoughts. God, that fucking girl. 

Night after night, after finally finding her and hearing that exact song for the first time, not once did I have control over myself. I don’t know what I was expecting when I knew I would finally hear it live for the first time, but I wasn’t expecting her to practically serenade me in front of thousands of people as if the words were meant for me. If only she knew the effect she had on me. 

Finally feeling like my hands were clean enough,  I glanced up at myself in the mirror. My cheeks were flushed a bright red, either from thinking of her or my previous actions. I quickly bent down and splashed my face with cold water, hoping it would help, before drying myself and leaving the bathroom. I made my way back to where everyone was and let out a few deep breaths, breathing in through my nose and out my mouth, hoping to feel a little more grounded. 

“There he is!” I hear as I step into the room, making me give Ruffilo a sheepish smile. 

“Alright, let’s head over, we start any minute now,” and with that, I get pushed towards the side stage. As I moved, I happened to glance over at the other band, who were looking back at me. I gave them a smile and a quick “You guys were amazing” before I continued to be pushed. My eyes were met with Y/N’s for a split second, but I quickly shut them and turned away. I couldn’t handle that right now. I can’t let any thoughts fill my head when I need to be completely mentally on stage. 

Somehow getting my brain working again, the band and I had a blast on stage. I let myself live in the moment, not caring about anything other than singing and having the crowd sing with me. The screams and cheering were even heard through my earpiece, which was absolutely insane. We made it through most of the set, only having our two encore songs left. But that was when I was brought back to reality. As much as I tried to play it off, the boys knew who was on my mind when I wrote ‘The Death of Peace of Mind’ and ‘Just Pretend’. One getting more shit than the other, as they knew there wasn’t anyone else on my mind when they were written. Especially when she was all I ever spoke about. Actually, many of the songs on this album were written with her in mind, just with some help, or should I say arguing, from the boys, so we didn’t make this whole album dedicated to my feelings for her. But these were the two that I had fully written out while thinking of her, and the boys liked them so much that they just went with it. But I did have to lie and tell fans that I wrote ‘Just Pretend’ as a joke to not cause any suspicion. And surprisingly, they became fan favorites, so now I had to play them every night.

I had to do everything I could to not think about her while singing. I knew this would be a problem when the talk of touring with them was simply a subject, but with the emotions I went through not even an hour ago, I absolutely could not get lost in my thoughts while in front of thousands of people. 

Pushing through, I managed to get through The Death of Peace of Mind with a straight face and complete composure, pushing her face out of my mind every time it popped up, no matter how much the look in her eyes as she sang to me flashed through my head. But now, the one that held all of my emotions would be the hardest to perform without cracking. 

The song began, and as I sang, I tried my hardest to think of anything but her. I put on the best performance I could, knowing I had to show a little emotion while singing it but doing everything I could not to feel it too much, knowing the one I wanted so desperately was just backstage. I did the best I could, but the second I hit the chorus, emotion came crashing through my body. 

I can wait for you at the bottom

My eyes started to get drawn to the side of the stage, not wanting to do what she did, I only looked through my peripheral.

I can stay away if you want me to

She was there, watching.

I can wait for years if I gotta

And I have. God, I’ve waited years and years to even see her again. And I’ll wait more if it means I could get closer to her.

Heaven knows I ain’t getting over you

As much as I didn’t want to, I sang that line to her. My eyes locked on hers as I did. I hope it wasn’t as obvious to her as it was to me, but those words were for her 110%. I moved as far from her as I could, pretending like I wanted to get closer to the crowd, but it was so that I could break away from her as I continued the song. 

Finally, the song ended, and as much as I wanted to run off stage, the boys and I said our thanks and goodbyes like we always did. We tossed some memorabilia to the crowd before we could finally leave. We filed off the stage, and I let out a long sigh as the boys all high-fived each other. All I could think was how I hope these shows would get easier. 

Y/N

I honestly don’t know why I decided to watch their show with all the thoughts running through my head. Noah looked utterly mesmerizing up there in front of everyone. He was meant to be on stage. He put on the most amazing performance and sounded absolutely beautiful. The problem was that this was the first time I had seen him perform since that day. Thankfully, I was paying attention this time, but that didn’t change the tension I created when I sang to him earlier. 

Everyone was now back together after the boys stepped off stage. Once again, all chatted as Noah and I just kept to ourselves, paying attention to their conversation but not really adding anything. At one point, Nick mentioned that we should do something together to celebrate our first night, which got a mix of replies, from a few people saying that we had to head out soon for our next show tomorrow, to some being more than happy to party a little to start off the tour. Cam checked the time on his phone and said that we had a few hours to do something. We just probably shouldn’t go anywhere and just hang out here before we had to hit the road, which got a lot of good reactions, so I guess that’s what we’ll be doing. 

I started walking towards the door, letting the boys know that I was going to change quickly and just meet them out there, and headed towards the bus.

Stepping on, I walked to the back and opened up my bags, trying to find something comfy to wear, hoping I had something that wasn’t embarrassing since most of my sleep shirts weren’t the most appealing. Rummaging around, even through the other boys’ clothes, the best thing I could find was leggings and a tank top, only wearing pants because it was still a little chilly out. Tossing them on, then throwing on my slippers, I took a look in the mirror to make sure I didn’t look insane.

I wiped under my eyes to get any mascara that had smudged over the day, fixing a few of my piercings, making sure my septum wasn’t crooked, and none of the others had anything on them, and glanced over my outfit one last time. Many of my tattoos were showing because of the tank top, and I couldn’t wait to see what the other band had to say about them, knowing they were covered all day with my now dirty sweater. After one final once-over, I figured I looked good enough and walked off the bus to see the boys talking outside.  

Tommy, Tony, Jolly, and Ruffilo were all standing outside the Bad Omens’ tour bus chatting, and I assume Cam, Nick, and Noah were inside doing who the hell knows. I walk towards the group of boys outside, standing between Tommy and Ruffilo, and give Tommy’s arm a squeeze to let him know I was there, to which he turned slightly to see me and smiled as he continued to talk to Jolly about a guitar shop in one of the places we toured. I smiled at the rest of the boys, earning some back before Ruffilo’s eyes trailed to my arms. He made an exaggerated face, creating an ‘O’ with his mouth. 

“Dude, those are sick,” he said as he reached a hand out to grab my right forearm and slowly twisted my arm to check out the sleeve I had. I laughed as he looked at it in amazement. I stepped closer to him and held out both arms so he could get a better look. He eyed up the black ink sleeve I had on my right arm, the one that had cybersigilism print flowing throughout some of the pieces, connecting them all into a full sleeve. Then he looked at my left arm, which made him gasp, catching Jolly’s attention. My left was full of American Traditional pieces that all collectively came together. Jolly came closer to me to look at them all before his eyes caught my chest piece, a large bat with flowers around it. Tommy and Tony laughed at their reactions, knowing this was a common thing when men into tattoos saw me. I just smiled at them as they moved my arms. All of a sudden, Jolly pulled away and walked towards the door of the tour bus. 

“Yo, guys! You have to check this out!” he shouted in, causing the three boys to eventually trickle their way out, confused. I looked over and laughed when my eyes met Cam’s, who was also laughing when he saw them inspect me like I was some crazy art piece they found. Nick and Noah came closer, not understanding, until they got close enough to see what their friends were freaking out about. Folio joined the rest of them as Noah just stood back and watched as they pointed out specific artworks. 

“You guys wanna see something cool?” Tony asked them while laughing, making them all look over at him. That’s when he grabbed me and turned me around, which I immediately understood so I pulled my hair off my back and onto my shoulder, showing off my upper back tattoo of Baphomet that I got a few years back. It was one that was usually hidden because of my hair, but I did love showing it off. 

The second I turned away from the boys to show them, I heard a soft groan in the distance, which caused a snicker from a few of the other guys. I didn’t understand what was so funny, so I kept showing off the tattoo. 

“Dude, your tattoos are crazy.” I heard Folio say as I fixed my hair and turned back around.

“Thank you. I honestly just wanted to get covered as fast as I could, so I only have a few meaningful ones, but most are either in areas always covered or on my legs,” I replied with a smile. I earned a few more compliments before they all returned to talking about their own thing. I noticed Noah glancing at me occasionally, so I shot him a smile, trying to play off the tension I know he also felt. He gave me one back, just not a full one, almost like he was too distracted in his own head. That’s when Cam chose to get our attention. 

“So, we drinking, or what?” he asked us, clapping his hands together, causing a groan from the boys in my band, knowing how hard Cam wants us to go, and cheers from the other band. Cam jogged to our bus as the rest of us piled into the other since we were going to be hanging out there.

“Don’t touch my Fireball!” I shouted at him with a teasing smile, knowing he hated drinking Fireball; well, all the boys did, which is why it was mine. He, and multiple other buys, made a chorus of disgusted noises in response. Making me laugh. 

“Of course you like Fireball, you’re the most insane girl I’ve met,” Ruffilo said to me teasingly as I walked on the bus, causing me to laugh harder. 

“I’m honored,” I replied with a sweet smile before taking my seat next to Tony. Cam came in a minute later holding three bottles that he packed the day before when we got on the bus, and even though I gave him a little shit for it, I’m beginning to think he had the right idea as Jolly set an equal amount of bottles on the table next to his.

Tommy asked where the cups were, and Jolly started looking at the bottles, thinking about which would be the best to start off with. Tommy set some solo cups down, understandably the only option we had, as Jolly started pouring us all shots of tequila. Great. Well, let’s hope I don’t embarrass myself. 

We all toast to the tour and take our shot, the liquid fire going down painfully. I exhale as I feel the fumes in my throat, and honestly, I wouldn’t be surprised if I breathed fire, not having tequila in at least a year. Thankfully, it settled in my stomach fine, even though I hadn’t eaten anything since the drive here. 

We all chat about anything and everything as a few more shots get poured. We all sat cramped in the lounge of their bus, The Bad Omens boys sitting behind the driver's seat, Jolly the closest to it and Noah the farthest, and me and my boys sat on the other side, Cam across from Noah and me across from Jolly. So I was the closest to the door, that was still open, and even though my body was heating up from the alcohol, the occasional breeze still caused goosebumps. I rubbed my arms a little bit, hoping that the alcohol would heat me some more.

 I held my cup out to Jolly across from me, signaling that I wanted a refill, and he took it, asking if I wanted anything in particular, to which I responded by shaking my head no. He poured a little vodka into my cup and handed it back, which I accepted with a smile. I guess that’s when my goosebump-covered arms caught his attention. 

“You cold?” 

“No, just a small chill from the breeze; I’m okay,” I replied

“Hun, let me run to our bus and grab you a hoodie,” Tommy offered, giving me a slightly concerned look. 

“Guys, I’m okay. I’ll warm up after I take this,” I said with a giggle, lifting my refilled cup. Suddenly, Noah stood up and reached his long arms around into one of the bunks and grabbed a hoodie, handing it out to me.

“Just wear this until you warm up.” He said. I was about to protest again, but he almost seemed annoyed, or maybe that was my drunk ears playing tricks on me, so I didn’t want to argue. I reached out and took it, giving him a smile and a small ‘thank you’ to which he responded with a slight nod and returned to talking with the boys. I put my arms through the hoodie, pulled it over my head, and slid it down, the bottom being a tighter fit, so I had to put a little extra effort into getting it over my chest, but once it was on, it was the most comfortable thing ever. It was definitely the alcohol affecting it, but going from chilly to warm with a soft hoodie felt like heaven. 

I turn my attention back to the multiple conversations happening at once. My eyes caught with Noah’s, as he was staring right at me. He cleared his throat and tried to turn away like he hadn’t been caught staring, but I just flashed him a bright drunken smile. He did a small double-take before looking back at me and laughing a little as he gave me one back. 

I mouthed the words ‘it’s so comfy’ at him as I hugged the hoodie closer to my body, and he responded with a small chuckle and mouthed a ‘good’ back. I giggled as I reached into my pocket, wanting to be on my phone for a while as I wasn’t as interested in the boy’s conversations. I clicked on the power button to turn on my phone and saw that I had a bunch of notifications, a lot more than usual, which confused me. Thinking maybe it was just me being tagged in photos from tonight’s show, I clicked on them and got taken straight to Instagram. I click on my notifications and see that they're all comments on my last post, talking about Noah once again, but this time saying how it was either cute that I kicked his ass at Mario Kart or how he went easy on me, which made me laugh, knowing how it actually played out. But I was still confused on how they knew, before I scrolled enough and saw that I was tagged in a story.

I let out a loud laugh as I clicked on it, catching a few of the boy's attention, but I waved them off as I tried silencing my giggles. I liked Noah’s story before replying to it.

“That’s what cheaters deserve ;)”

I saw Noah shift as he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. He pulled it out, and I watched as he clicked on the notification and chuckle to himself before looking up at me with a smirk and then typing on his phone.

Noah- Me? The cheater? Who was the one who smacked the controller out of my hand?

I giggled before replying.

Y/N- Says the one who picked the hardest map of the whole game!

Noah- You literally got first place. you didn’t struggle that bad. 

Y/N- You’re still an ass

I heard him let out a huff which made me giggle more.

Noah- Whatever you say, sweetheart

My heart skipped a beat, but I did my best to play it off. I look over at my cup I had forgotten about and take my shot, it going down a lot easier than before, but I still made a face while shaking my head. I heard a laugh and looked up to see Noah watching me. I give him a scrunched up face to exaggerate the disgust, which he continued to laugh at.

“What are you two giggle-fucks laughing about?” Cam asked us, making me us laugh harder. “Come on, we still have a while to party, let’s get some more rounds going!” he suggested, resulting in some groans and chuckles. This tour is gonna be the death of me. 

After a few more rounds of shots, me trying to deny most of them, it was finally 3 A.M. and we had to hit the road. We said our goodbyes and headed to our bus, Tommy having to hold me as I walked up the stairs. I really should wash my face, but that’s a problem for tomorrow. 

I fell into my bunk, ready for sleep to take over as I was utterly exhausted from our first night. I pull my arm up under my head and face the wall of the bunk, closing my eyes. That’s when the smell of a citrussy amber and musk filled my nose. I lifted my head and looked down at my arm, and realized I was still wearing Noah’s hoodie. I let out a soft giggle before burying my head into the sleeve and letting sleep take over me. I fell asleep before I could see a new notification coming from my chat with Noah.

Noah- Here’s my number incase you need it ***-***-****

Noah- or to let me know when you wanna give that hoodie back ;) See you tomorrow

Part Three

[azsazz]

Change Your Ticket (Part 7)

Rugby Star!Cassian x Reader (A Modern AU)

Summary: Dating famous rugby star Cassian Bailey is a dream. What's not one is keeping your secret relationship under wraps. Will you and Cassian be able to keep from the limelight or will your relationship crumble because of it?

Warnings: ALL SMUT, shower sex, oral (f receiving)

Word Count: 3,405

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4] [Part 5] [Part 6]

Notes: Starting of 6 updates for 6k with this one because it's been way too long for rugby cassian 💙

_________________________________________

“Well, I’d planned on making you something extravagant,” Cassian says, frowning down at his phone. You wonder if it’s something related to your picture appearing in the media, but your shoulders loosen as his continues. “But I didn’t make it to the store before coming here. Is pizza okay with you, (Y/N)?”

“Pizza is more than perfect,” you sigh, leaning your head against his shoulder. You’re both sitting at your kitchen island, glasses of wine filled to the brim. “I don’t feel like cooking tonight.”

You watch as Cassian places the order. You grumbled about how two pizzas were too much, and he’d reminded you just how much he needs to eat as a rugby player.

“I don’t think they meant that about pizza, Cassian,” you tut, bringing your glass to your lips for a sip of sweet wine. His eyes glitter when he looks down at you, stirring that feeling of want in your gut.

He shrugs, “I think that whatever my trainer doesn’t know, won’t hurt him.” Cassian pushes from his chair, taking your hand. “C’mon, let’s have a relaxing shower, wash the day off of us.”

As blissful as that sounds, you’re not sure you’ll be able to join. “What about the pizza?”

Cassian tugs on your hand a little, more than ready to abandon the kitchen in favor of getting you into the shower with him.

“We’ll make it quick, be out before they get here.”

“Nothing involving you or showers is ever quick, babe.” You roll your eyes and he winks.

“Then, hopefully he has the common sense to leave it at the door because there’s no way I’m letting you go right now. You can accept my stink until after we eat or I can eat you out in the shower while you shampoo my hair. What do you say, baby? I am pretty smelly.”

His words slide down your body like soap, bubbling between your thighs.

Cassian leans down, peppering kisses across your face. The action make you giggle, setting down your glass in favor of wrapping your arms around his neck. He does smell, but it’s the musk of his sweat and it makes your thighs clench, arousal making your cunt wet.

You squeal as he lifts you into his arms with ease. He’s strong, and you can feel the way the muscles packing his back bow and flex when he lifts you. Gods, does he have the perfect body.

You kiss along his neck as he walks, licking up the salt from his skin. It makes Cassian shiver; his fingers press harder into your flesh. He breathes out a curse when you bite, then suckle at the perfectly tanned skin beneath your teeth.

“Fuck, baby,” he groans, kicking the door to the bathroom shut behind him. “I’m so fucking hard for you.”

His words have you moaning in response and your fingers find his hair, tugging the ponytail out before burying your fingers in his still-damp strands. It’s tangled from his practice but Cassian likes the pull, making a noise of pleasure in response to your desperation.

Your lips find his a moment later.

Cassian sits you on the edge of the counter but you’re not ready for him to pull away yet, wrapping your legs around his waist to haul him closer. His hands slide from your hips upwards, thumbs brushing across your pert nipples where they’re pressing hard against the fabric of your shirt.

His ministrations continue upward until he’s grasping your jaw between both of his large hands and dipping his tongue into your mouth in a claiming kiss. His fingers thread through your hair and he devours you like you haven’t seen each other in years.

Like you’ve just admitted to him for the first time that you love him.

You can’t hold in the whimper he sucks from your mouth as his tongue brushes yours. It’s a passionate kiss, your tongues dancing with each other as you drag your hands down his muscular chest.

Cassian bucks his hips a little, the strain of his cock in his pants heavy with need. He’s completely focused on ravaging your mouth, but he sneaks his hand down your body, dipping into the waistband of the sweats you had changed into upon arriving home, and flattens his hand against your heat.

“Touch me,” you beg, unable to resist your boyfriend, rocking desperately against his hand.

He does as you say, teasing his middle finger into your wetness. It slides in with ease and you keen at his touch, the palm of his hand grinding against your clit when his finger enters you all of the way.

You’ve missed this, missed his fingers brushing against your skin, touching you and tasting you in the places you both love the most. It’s been too long since you’ve been in his arms like this, even if it had only been this morning, you were holding each other so close. It seems like a million hours away now, with the draining day you’ve both shared. But you’re together now, and you know that Cassian will be by your side throughout the entirety of this media hellscape you’ve found yourself in the center of.

He pulls his finger out slowly, teasing you with it, in and out and in again until you’re a keening mess in his arms, cunt dripping into the palm of his hand and nails scratching down his fabric covered chest for more.

“Easy now, baby,” His breath is warm against your lips. His taunt is paired with a circle of your clit and your body presses further into his in response. “We haven’t even gotten you all wet, yet.”

“’M so wet for you,” you mumble your disagreement, kissing him between words. “Please!”

Cassian laughs against your lips and it sparks sunshine in your chest. You need to feel that chuckle against your skin, that mouth against your cunt.

You cry out sharply when Cassian removes his fingers from your pants. He’s pecking you softly, murmuring sweet words that keep you all worked up as he slides your shirt up your torso.

His name leaves your lips on a breathy moan when he ducks back down after removing your shirt, lips attached to that sweet spot on your throat that makes you melt. His touch turns more aggressive as he undoes your bra, his lips following where his fingers are removing it from your chest and flinging it over his shoulder.

Sucking one of your nipples into his mouth makes your see stars. You throw your head back in pleasure as he massages your free breast, kneading it with his rough hand.

You arch into his body when he rolls your tight nipple between his teeth. He loves the way your fingers dig into his shoulders in response and all he wants to do right now is get down on his knees, throw your legs over his shoulders, and taste your cunt like he’s been thinking of doing all day.

The morning session he’d spent in your bed didn’t sate him in the slightest. It only made him hungrier for you.

“Cass,” you hiss when he begins kissing across the skin of your stomach. His tongue lathes around your navel as he works your sweats from your hips, nipping, sucking at the expanse of skin that appears, fresh for him to mark. “Hurry up, baby. I need you.”

You shift your hips and kick your legs, helping him rid you of the rest of your clothes. Cassian groans like a man felled in war, utterly weak for you.

His hands part your thighs, fingers spreading your lips so he can get a full view of your fluttering, wet cunt. His hazel eyes are bright with arousal, and he licks his lips, tutting when you slide your hips closer, needing his mouth on you.

The tip of Cassian’s tongue brushes ever so lightly against your clit that it has you howling with pleasure. It zips up your spine like fire and you arch away from the counter, but he’s pulling away completely, his warmth lost from your body.

“Baby,” you plead, eyes going wide. You hadn’t realized they’d fallen shut with the first caress of his tongue on your cunt, and they open to the view of Cassian ripping his shirt over his head as fast as he can. Before the fabric even hits the ground he’s already working at his pants, stumbling a few steps to the side and reaching into your shower to start the spray.

“I’m coming, sweetheart. Be good for me.”

Like you could be anything else but good for him. You release a pleased sigh, lids lowering over your eyes as you watch the love of your life flailing around the bathroom, setting the water on high as he struggles at the same time to hop out of his pants.

Your mouth waters when his cock is finally released for the tight confines of his sweats. It bobs, slapping against his tight abdomen, and it’s already thick and full, pink and beading precum at the tip, ready for you.

“Come here, stinky,” you reach out to Cassian, still leaning back against the mirror. Splayed out like this, all his for the taking…Gods, he’s never loved you more.

He’s drawn to you like the sun is drawn to the moon, like love to a cupid. In three great strides he’s pressing back up against you, slanting his lips over yours in another hot kiss.

You arch off of the mirror, your hands finding his body thoughtlessly, as if a magnet is pulling you in. His cock nudges against your folds and you’re gasping against his mouth as Cassian pulls you fully off of the counter and into his arms.

You hold tightly to him, crossing your legs behind his back. Cassian keeps you suspended right above his cock and with every step he takes it teases you, a brush of warmth against your wet cunt. You keen against his mouth, nipping his lip in frustration, but the man only laughs in response.

“Oh, how I love when you beg, baby,” he says, distracted by kissing the skin of your throat. He steps into the hot spray and you hiss, surprised. “Go on, grab that bottle of shampoo over there. I have a promise to keep.”

Gently, Cassian sets you on your feet. Your legs are shaking and he doesn’t let you go, instead sliding his hands down your body, following the lines of warm water as it drips down. His touch is searing, more so than the rain pouring from the showerhead and the sight of him sliding to his knees before you nearly makes you cum, untouched.

He looks up at you with hazel eyes, raising a brow. You don’t know how long you’ll be able to hold yourself together if he’s looking up at you like this. He’s waiting, a silent demand in that heady gaze that has you snatching the nearest shampoo bottle from your shelf. Cassian hums in appreciation, hearing the top snap open, and he taps your thighs, a signal for you to open them wider.

You obey, because you need to feel his mouth on your cunt, his fingers plunging into your wet heat. You squeeze some of the soap into your hands before he can begin, because you know there will be no focusing once he’s laid those pretty lips upon you.

There’s hardly any focusing right now as you look down at him. The expanse of his tanned, broad shoulders and dripping hair plastered to them. You have the perfect view of his thick thighs, powerful where he kneels. He is every bit of a stature right now, one built outside of temples that people used to worship.

Just like how you’ll be worshipping him tonight.

Rubbing your hands together to activate the suds, you dig your fingers into his hair, massaging his scalp with brash strokes. Cassian’s groan bounces deliciously against the tiles and you’re guiding him forward, straight to your weeping cunt.

You shout when he gets right to work, tongue scraping against your clit before he’s craning his neck and plunging it deep into your cunt. You choke, fingers faltering in his hair but he’s growling, large hands pushing your thighs further apart so he can dig his face further.

His nose digs into your clit and you whine, grinding your hips against his face. You don’t think your hands are moving besides where they’re clutching his locks tightly. Cassian fucks you with his tongue and you throw your head back, the motion smashing your skull into the tiles behind.

“Fuck,” you whimper, but the pleasure drowns out the throbbing in your head. Water skims down your body, its warmth satisfying against your sensitive nipples. The room is filled with steam already and it’s a struggle to take the laboring breaths you need to with Cassian’s tongue stuck so deep. “Right there, baby.”

Cassian listens, drinking down your wetness like a parched man. He’s thirsty for your taste, for the way that your body responds to his, for your words. Every sound that you make sends shockwaves to his cock. He’s desperate to get a hand on himself but he wants you to cum first. Needs you to cum first.

He sneaks a finger to your cunt, replacing his tongue with his thick digit. You sink lower, your feet slipping on the tiles but Cassian is holding you up without an ounce of effort. He’s much too concerned with making you feel good, suckling at your clit with a hum when your nails rake through his hair, letting him know he’s doing a good job.

The downstroke of his index finger turns into an upstroke with his middle and you keen at the feeling of more. He feels so good, knowing right where to touch, the bundle to caress and curve his fingers against so that you’re a shaking mess. Heat gathers low in your gut when he brushes against that spot again before pushing his fingers deep and hitting your womb.

“Cassian,” his name is a cry, a prayer. You can’t form words beyond that with the feeling so hot, so tight in your loins. He begins moving his fingers faster, fucking them in and out of you with vigor. “I’m cumming, baby! Keep doing that—” your breath catches in your throat as you see white hot, orgasm flooding you. Your fingers turn harsher against his scalp but you don’t even notice because Cassian’s picking up the pace even more. “Yeah, yeah, yeah!”

Your boyfriend doesn’t stop. Doesn’t stop flicking his tongue against your clit because the noises you’re making right now are music to his fucking ears. Doesn’t stop pushing his fingers into your cunt even though he has to use a touch more effort now that you’re trying to clamp down around his fingers like some wicked trap. He’s been waiting all day for this and he’s going to revel in it, even if you’re already whining from sensitivity.

When you’re squirming, begging him to pull away, he does.

“Have I satisfied you, sweetheart?” he asks, leaning back only slightly. Your hands fall from his hair to his shoulders as he presses light kisses to your thighs, rubbing light circles into them with his thumbs to ease their quaking. “Or are you all ready for my cock now?” Cassian tilts his head back to look at you but hisses as the water falling from the showerhead washes soap into his eyes. “Oh, fuck! Ow, ow ow!” He rears back, nearly losing his balance completely as he slips.

Your hands find him, coaxing him under the water. Your chest still heaves with your orgasm, but you brush the hair from his face and lay a reassuring hand on his shoulder while he tries to rub the soap from his eyes.

“Are you alright, Cass?”

He groans in response, trying to blink the sting from his eyes. They’re all red rimmed now, and when his vision clears, it’s to you biting back your laughter.

“At the time, I thought that was going to be so hot,” Cassian admits with a huff, but you see the smile cracking his lips.

“At the time,” you tease, brushing a strand of hair behind his ear. “It was.”

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

The pizza is good but the sex that follows is even better.

Cassian is gentle with you, loving you like he had the first time you’d ever slept together; caring and tender. He takes his time mapping his way across the planes of your skin with his hands, with his mouth, tracing the hills and valleys of your body like he has all of the time in the world.

And you let him, not because you already know you’re dodging your work tomorrow, but because anything that this man does utterly enraptures you.

It’s passionate and slow, each roll of his hips sensual and intentional. The words he presses into your skin are soft and meaningful, ones that bring tears to your eyes. You don’t know how someone who has been through as much as he has can love you so openly like this, and you’re thankful every day for it.

“I love you, Cassian,” you exhale, fingers raking down the expanse of his back as you try to hold him closer. Your back arches off of the bed and you throw your head back in bliss, sparks igniting behind your eyes with every thrust of his hips.

Cassian peeks his head up from where it’s buried between your breasts, licking and sucking his way from one nipple to your other. They’re hard as rubies, red like them too, surrounded by mottled marks left by his mouth.

His hazel eyes are dazed, sparkling with adoration. Your chest constricts as your heart swells with joy, with love for the man willing to rush to your side and make sure you’re okay. He’s shown you that you’re his first priority in all of this, that he will put you before even the game he loves so dearly.

He surges forward with a brutal thrust of his hips that has you seeing stars. He loves the way that you clutch him as if you never want to let go. He won’t ever let you go either, and that thought only has him more ravenous for you.

Cassian catches your cry of pleasure against his lips. You taste like a dream, in more ways than one. His strong arms snake surround your body and you squeal as he rolls, holding you tightly on top of him while he plants his feet into the mattress and fucks up into you.

“I love you so much, sweetheart,” he pants against your mouth. “Want to take care of you like this every day. Fuck you so good you won’t be able to run away.” His hips jerk and he’s hitting that spot that sends a tsunami of pleasure throughout your body.

Roughly, he grabs your ass, helping you move yourself up and down his cock to prolong your pleasure. It’s so good, he’s so hot and long inside of you, his girth filling you completely but it’s not enough, you want his cum too.

“Never,” you gasp, riding out the orgasm that’s wracking your body. “I’m never leaving you, Cassian. Never ever. I love you too much for that.”

It those words that have him growling, sucking harshly at the juncture of your throat and shoulder as he cums. His warmth fills you to the brim, and you’re shuddering on top of him from the pleasure of it all, collapsing against his chest when the grinding of his hips comes to a halt.

Cassian doesn’t pull you though, and you don’t want him to. You want him to keep you plugged up with his cum inside of you. You’re on the pill and normally you’d be more worried that he’s not wearing a condom, because the pill isn’t 100% effective, but you needed to feel his bare cock buried deeply into you tonight, need to feel his warmth in your cunt and leaking down your thighs.

“I love you too, sweetheart,” Cassian breathes, brushing a strand of damp hair behind your ear. You’ve already showered but you’ll both need another when you feel like finally getting up. “Until the moon no longer rises.”

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

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[calcifiedunderland]

Mirror, Mirror, Speak to Me~

or, Encounters of a Disney-aware Prefect ft. Vil Schoenheit

Part 1 (here), Part 2, Part 3, Part 4

Hiii this is my first fic in a while, hope you like it I’m totally not nervous ahaha

SFW, no warnings. Please enjoy~

Reader is Prefect/Yuu, uses they/them pronouns.

—————

This was the fourth time today that Vil had to remind himself to relax his brow, before he got wrinkles.

First, he woke up and saw a brand new, bright red dot in the very middle of his forehead, undoubtedly thanks to stressing out over meeting you today. After he heaped on concealer and foundation to cover the nasty thing, his new heels he’d just bought snapped off just as he was about to leave the dorm. Third, while he was trying to put on a new pair of heels, some graceless first year slammed into him. They only spilled their alchemy potion homework over his carefully picked outfit that you would’ve undoubtedly complimented him, and also faceplanted his makeup all over the wall.

And now there was a smear of his carefully-applied makeup on the wall, his nose hurt, and his ego was about to shatter.

And fourth, but worst of all, he now had to stand you up because of some impromptu dorm head meeting. You, who had to deal with him and his antics during VDC. And his stupid jealousy of Neige. And his training regimen for the crew. And not to mention his overblot-

The two of you couldn’t pass a day without arguing in your dusty Ramshackle living room. Even still, it felt like aeons ago when he was nagging you about something-or-other, and you were yelling back. You were infuriating, but somehow it was nice to finally meet someone who didn’t see Vil Schoenheit the actor, world-class supermodel, and housewarden for Pomefiore. Someone who challenged him despite his authority and skill, someone who questioned him. Somehow, you pushed him to be better than he was already, but only after his overblot did he realize what you’d done for him.

And somewhere along the way, he started liking your presence, after you two warmed up to each other. Little things, like asking for your help in film club, to managing Epel, brought you closer. Until it finally came to taking you on a day-trip to his father’s movie set in the Shaftlands on a not-date date. Taking you out was the least he could do. He was taking you out to show you how film-making is done. And after he’d take you shopping. And maybe you’d notice the nice shade of red lipstick he’d bought and his eyeshadow to make his eyes pop and you’ll compliment him and you’ll tell him the things he wanted to hear from you oh-so badly—

He pinched the bridge of his nose, just as Epel poked his head into his room, dressed in his Spelldrive gear.

“Hey Vil, Rook wanted me to get you for the dorm meeting.” Vil stood and walked with him, meeting Rook at the hall of mirrors. His vice housewarden smiled at him.

“Bonjour mon roi, I see you’re as elegant as ever!” Vil’s brow twitched as Rook smiled innocently at him, reading him immediately. “Shall we head off? Afterwards, you can meet sa tricksteur for your little get-together.”

“Ya mean f’r his date?” Epel’s eyes widened as Vil glared at him, “I’m merely showing the prefect how film-producing is done. Besides, I haven’t seen my father since winter break, and unless you want to help me direct and edit the next movie in the Film Club-“

“You needn’t take the prefect all the way to the Shaftlands just to teach them about movie-making,” Rook pointed out, “you could just teach them. And isn’t your father’s set very close to some shopping centers you mentioned you wanted to take them to?”

Rook’s eyes narrowed and he smiled deviously. “You’re wearing your Tenebrés heels from monsieur mastermind and the lipstick the trickster said they liked on you. Not to mention, your pupils widened when you mentioned them.” Rook leaned in, grin widening. “Is visiting your father all you will be doing? ”

Epel smirked at Vil’s blank expression, adding “‘n when did they start bein’ prefect an’ not potato?”

Vil’s face felt hot. “Let’s go, Rook.”

———

Vil’s going to be late.

You frowned at your phone, staring at the message.

Good morning (y/n), the headmaster called for a quick housewarden meeting. It shouldn’t take too long, I sincelerelt apologize for the delay. I’ll be there soon.

-V.S.

You sighed and pushed open the doors of to the Mirror Chamber. You’d agreed to meet Vil here and take the Mirror to the Shaftlands after getting permission from Crowley, but you didn’t even see the message until now. And now you had time to kill until Vil arrived.

The Mirror Chamber looked strange while it was empty. The room was lit by the ever-burning green flame torches, but it still looked ominous. Probably thanks to the big-ass mirror with a face looming in front of you.

You looked at it. You vaguely remembered your life before NRC, barely a few months ago but still hazy to your memory. You remember crouching in front of a television, watching an animated movie with jaunty music play.

A black-haired girl in a blue and yellow dress singing to a well. A man with a feather in his cap, brandishing a dagger and a wooden box. A beautiful woman with a crown and a black cape sneering at her, then with a flourish of her robes marching to…

A mirror?

You frowned, plopping in front of the mirror. The dark voids of its ‘eyes’ stared emptily. She said something to the mirror. Mirrors can talk? What did she say to it?

Your head hurt as you remembered the dreams you had leading up to Vil’s overblot. That woman looked too much like the Fairest Queen. But that mirror can’t be the same.

What did she say to the mirror?

You thought for a long moment, then mumbled awkwardly “Mirror mirror on the wall, who is the fairest one of all?”

The Mirror loomed silently, not even regarding you. Well, you thought, the mirror isn’t really on a wall. It’s… floating?

Something about your wording still didn’t feel right. You shut your eyes and laid on the floor, trying to remember the Queen’s words.

Magic mirror on the wall, who is the fairest one of all?

That sounded right, but you’d have to reword it to be true. You thought for a moment, then spoke slowly, “Magic mirror in front of me, who would the fairest of them all be?”

The Mirror remained silent, and you laughed to yourself, “of course the mirror wouldn’t talk, it was just some drea-“

“Eyes bright as the starry sky,” the Mirror intoned,

“Heart kind as the mountain tall.

Mind broad as the clouds are high,

Thou, (y/n), are fairest of them all.”

Congrats, Mirror. You broke the (y/n).

How the fuck did you get the mirror to speak to you? You thought it only spoke to the headmaster that was just a stupid rhyme from my dream why did that-

Your mouth felt dry. Why did that work?

You stared at the Mirror. Now it’s void-like eyes seemed to look back at you and regard you. Not just a magicless prefect now, huh?

Was that just a dream? Was that just a movie you watched when you were younger? Five different dreams relating to Seven couldn’t be a coincidence. Why did it feel like you knew those stories? Is this the real life? Is this just fantasy???

Your mouth opened but before you could speak, your phone buzzed at your thigh. You flicked your screen and picked up the call, swallowing thickly and tried to act as if a Mirror didn’t call you fairest-of-them-all while you talked to the dude who overblotted over it.

“H-hey Vil, the meeting ended?”

Vil walked as fast as he could, heels clicking. “Yes, I’m heading to the Mirror Chamber,” he flicked open a compact mirror with his other hand, “have you been waiting long? I’m sorry.” Yes. His makeup stayed pristine.

“No, it’s fine. I’ll see you soon,” you hung up just as Vil swung the door open. You smiled at him. Was his makeup more on-point today?

“Ready to go?” He offered you his arm, which you took. “Yeah…” you regarded the mirror again. It stared blankly into the distance. Vil seemed to notice your stare, and he smiled sadly.

“You know, I think you’d like the Shaftlands,” he said softly, “where I grew up. The mountains where Jack and I used to play are beautiful. The sky is clear, and when the Aurora appears, it’s breathtaking. Jack and I used to cloud watch too,” he chuckled at the memory while you reeled from what the Mirror told you. Vil noted your arm tightening on his, and he patted you, “don’t be nervous. You’ll like it.”

That’s not why I’m nervous, you smiled at him, calming yourself. “I’m excited, don’t worry.”

With that, he turned to the Mirror and in a voice as authoritative as the Queen in your dream, said “Take us to the Shaftlands.”

The glass swirled and as you stepped into the cobblestoned streets of the Shaftlands, you pushed your encounter to the back of your mind. After all, your own Queen needed all your attention now. <3

Besides, what could some dusty old mirror know?

——

Hi!! i hope this wasn’t too ooc, I had this idea for a while and the twst brain rot is real so I thought I’d write it. Likes and reblogs are appreciated, id love to know what you guys think 😄✨

I plan to do a pts 2 and 3 with rook and epel, stay tuned :3

[ladyloveroll]

(These are my ACTUAL notes from my friends birthday party full of people who absolutely did not know who the fuck Itachi and Kisame were or how pairing names work or what a ship is.)

Writing kisaita (on and off) for 15 years

Never get tired of the ship

Excellent, friendly people in the fandom to keep making content (Cynni)

Presentation is less about the specific ship and more about the general qualities that make their ship S-tier. You may find this echoed in your own OTP, IDK.

Powerful, badass characters who can kick anyones asses no problem, as depicted where they are casually taking a stroll after Kisame (who still has his little fo-hawk) casually takes down the four-tails

Kisame is noted as the ‘tail-less jinchuuriki’

Itachi is clearly a fucking powerhouse, we don’t need to debate that

Working with strong characters means you are more easily able to portray their weakness and explore that side of them since that rarely gets screentime

Auxiliary, not main characters

Main characters are harder to write because they spend a lot of screen time accomplishing their goal and doing Plot

Auxiliary characters are more malleable, and morally gray ones especially so

Depicted here are Itachi and Kisame, separately, being ordered by their villages to kill their own people. They carry this order out, but do not particularly like it. Nor are they particularly loyal to their own villages, despite carrying this order out. It’s hard to say where their loyalities lie.

The answer is WITH EACH OTHER OBVIOUSLY

Any ship that has a timeskip has LOADS of canon-verse material you can work with, especially if it feels like the characters have changed or their dynamic has changed.

For Naruto especially, WTF are Kisame and Itachi doing for three years? Clearly neither of them are out capturing jinchuriki. They aren’t seen lounging around Amegakure or Akatsuki headquarters. They are just traveling the world. Probably doing hits. Probably hitting on EACH OTHER WOOOOOO

Long time skips mean a few thing: 1) Canon divergence, 2) Canon compliant, 3) pre-time skip, 4) during time skip, 5) post time-skip; and that’s not even the AU’s

They clearly haven’t made any other friends during this time either so lots of relationship to explore

The Naruto franchise is notorious for retconning. Probably because Kishimoto (the writer) was pushed to create at a pace that was impossible for any sane or healthy man to keep up with.

Fanficition writers can take advantage of this poor writing by interpreting the character in a lot more ways than if the character was solidly written.

There are a lot of different ways Kisame is written, and accepted as so

Itachi less so but we don’t have time for that

Retconning allows you to take a writers mistake and turn it into utter brainrot that ten other people (me) will reblog every 3 years

This one is kind of specific, but if you like angst then OH BOY this ship has a lot of potential for it

Any OTP that involves an angsty edgelord and a sadistic tagalong can indulge in either EXTRA ANGST and be able to balance out the angst with humor

The KisaIta ship has 4 great themes about it:

Redemption

Acceptance

Forgiveness

And Existentialism of course

Dynamic:

Sharkboy / lava girl

Edgelord / goof

Leader / follower

Maybe old? / a touch too young

Respect for each other

S-tier OTP because of strong themes and repeatable dynamics

Kinkfest here we come

S-tier OTPs must be able to withstand an intense variety of smut writing

Powerful level = able to handle pain and dish out pain

Body things? = more positions

The Shape of Water was one of the single best thing to happen to the KisaIta 18+ fics because (even though it existed before the movie came out) a lot more readers were into it now

Also, Kisame makes this ship work more than Itachi. He is fucking DEVOTED

at this point I was running out of my 10-minutes (THEY HAD THE AUDACITY TO PUT ME ON A TIMER) so i just backfilled the rest of the presentation with fanart and memes i like

Why do I like KisaIta?

I mostly write smut

They’re great at smut

I also like angst

They’re always great for angst, either character

Also look at them they are hot AF

Beefcake service-top vs. ‘shaped like a katana’ masochist

Healthy dose of hurt-comfort

They’re extremely flexible to write and so there’s a lot of stories you can create

thank you for not reporting me to the powerpoint police