#im always doing shit to his water bottle. he sets his stuff down in the room for his next class and then leaves to use the bathroom

[vraska-theunseen]

one time during advisory i was trying to aim my water bottle at my friends water bottle to knock it down and he saw me doing it so he moved it to the middle of the table and put his hand over it and was like "ok. try now" and i was like "IM NOT GOING TO BE YOUR FUCKING CHARLIE BROWN"

[mackenzielovee]

heyy! can you do an angsty one where rafe and the reader are “friends,” for a long time, they’ve been in the same friend group and she’s been with love with him for a while now, and he knows and uses that for his advantage. she always does stuff for him, help him whenever he needed and more, and he treats her pretty badly/rudely in return. their friends (top n kelce,) always try to tell him to stop and more and finally she’s had enough she confronts him and show how much he was actually draining her, and he acts like he doesn’t care but he does realize what he was doing, but meanwhile he’s reflecting on his actions, y/n is getting closer to jj? thanks lol the end is up to you. love u and ur fics <3

a/n: hi love! im so sorry it took me so long to write this. I hope you love it!! it took me forever to finish hahaha but i loved writing it!

Warnings: swearing, underage drinking

my writing

pretty damn lucky - rafe cameron

You sigh as you pull Rafe's fresh sheets from the dryer, breathing in the scent of the detergent mixed with the scent of him. He and the boys had way too much to drink last night, which resulted in Rafe getting sick all over his bed when they got home. You had stripped his sheets immediately and put them in the wash, then made a makeshift bed for Rafe on the floor with all of his blankets.

He had grunted at you in return for all your work, collapsing down on the floor and passing out before you could even say goodnight to him.

You had washed the sheets once again this morning when you woke up, then stuck them in the dryer and waited on them.

Topper groans on the couch as you pass him on your way to Rafe's room. You stop and chuckle, watching as he hesitantly opens his eyes.

"Oh, fuck," Topper grumbles as he sits up, clutching his head.

"I think you guys brought the bar home with you."

He glances up, eyes meeting yours, and groans. You laugh and step over to him, taking a seat on the couch beside him.

"Can I get you anything?" you ask him.

"Yeah, a time machine. Don't let me drink so much," he whines, collapsing back down on the couch. You stand, letting out a laugh.

"Water and aspirin. Got it."

You walk up the stairs and stop in front of Rafe's bedroom door, knocking on it lightly before you peak your head in. He's still laying on the floor, but you can't tell if he's awake or not. You stop inside, warm sheets in hand, and close the door behind you. He grunts at the noise, but it's not enough to make him open his eyes.

"Hey," you say to him, "I washed your sheets. How are you feeling?"

Rafe moves on the floor, opening his eyes only enough to see you, then rolls back to his initial spot and closes his eyes again.

"Just put the sheets back on, I want my bed."

You sigh and nod your head, stepping over to his bed to start making it. You watch him as you work, laying on the floor, mouth parted slightly and eyebrows furrowed as he tries to focus on not throwing up again.

"Okay," you whisper once his bed is made, "Come on. I'll help you."

Rafe allows you to wrap your arms around his torso, helping him stand from off the floor. He leans all his weight on you as you two stumble over to his bed, then he collapses onto it. You cover him with his comforter and then fix his hair so it's not sitting in his eyes anymore. He doesn't say anything at your movements.

"I'll get you some water and some medicine. Be back in a minute," you whisper to him. He just nods as best he can.

You hurry back down the stairs, rushing past Topper and into the kitchen. You grab two water bottles out of the fridge and then rifle through the cabinets until you find a bottle of aspirin. As you walk from the kitchen to Topper on the couch, you stop in your tracks.

"Topper," you say, your voice authoritative, "Where is Kelce?"

Topper laughs, which is how you know it's bad. You hadn't noticed that they were one friend light when they stumbled in last night, mostly because you had been too worried about Rafe to be concerned with where Topper and Kelce crashed.

"He fell down outside last night. I'm pretty sure we just left him there."

You sigh loudly, handing him a bottle of water and aspirin as you swear and rush to the front door. As you approach, you can already see him, face up in the Cameron's new flower bed that Rose had worked so hard to make perfect. You open the door and rush to Kelce, annoyed with the boys for not even telling you he was out here.

"Kelce?" you question, stirring him awake, "You alive in there?"

Kelce sits up, as if you'd awakened him from a dream, and glances around. He looks at you and then down to the clothes he's in, and you watch as his eyes widen.

"Those motherfuckers did not leave me out here," he gasps.

"Kelce, I'm so sorry. I had no idea you were out here-"

"I'm going to kill them - ow."

He tries to stand up, but the throbbing of his head makes him fall back down into the dirt again. You grab onto his arm and try to help him up, noting how you do most of the work. When he's finally upright, you brush off the dirt from his back and then lead him inside.

"Shit," he mutters, "My stomach. I'm gonna need to eat."

"I'm on it," you tell him, leading him into the living room and placing him on the couch next to Topper.

"Hey, man," Topper greets, "Rose sure will be happy you observed the flowers so...closely."

"Shut the fuck up, Top," Kelce snaps, reaching over and punching Topper in the chest. He groans at his head and sits back again, making you laugh.

"All right," you declare, picking up the aspirin and water bottle for Rafe, "Eggs? Toast? Bacon? Sound good?"

Kelce nods his head and Topper looks at you, already looking better with the water and medicine in his system.

"Hey, thank you, Y/N. For always taking care of us," Topper smiles at you.

"Yeah," Kelce agrees, "I'd still be lying in a bush outside if it weren't for you. Thank you."

You smile at them and shake your head, "Of course, boys. Back in a minute. Kelce, don't kill Top. Please."

Kelce grunts, telling you he's still debating if he will or not. You laugh and then rush back up the stairs, hoping Rafe is still alive up there. You knock softly on his door when you reach it, not wanting to just bust in on him.

"Rafe?" you say when you walk in, seeing him laying in the exact same position he had been when you left him.

"What took you so long?" he grumbles.

"I'm sorry," you say, sitting down beside him on his bed, "You guys left Kelce outside and-"

"Do you have the aspirin or what?"

You sigh and nod, handing him the pill bottle and a bottle of water. He sits up, hair messy and eyes only half open, and pours three pills into his hand. You stare at him, observing his sharp jaw line and his soft skin, and you can't help but wonder what it would be like to be able to feel him. Touch him. Love on him the way you've been dreaming about since the day you met him.

"Do you want me to make you something to eat?"

Rafe swallows the pills, then brings his eyes up to meet yours, "That breakfast place I love. Why don't you go pick us all up something? Card's in my wallet."

He lays back down, which is his way of excusing you from the room. You just nod your head and grab his card out of his wallet.

"And move the seat back in my truck when you get back. I always hit my head when I get in after you."

"All right," you say quietly, wishing he'd at least say a 'please' or 'thank you'.

You take orders from Topper and Kelce, then hurry out to Rafe's truck. You have to move the seat way up in order to drive the truck, and you make a mental note to move it back when you get back to the house.

You pull up to the restaurant and climb out of the truck, fumbling with the keys and your purse and Rafe's card, too wrapped up in yourself to notice the blonde boy standing about five feet from you.

"Damn, I didn't expect someone as pretty as you to hop out of that truck," JJ smirks at you, watching your eyes shoot up to him.

You smile, "Hi, JJ."

"How are you?" he asks, cheeky look on his face.

You set your hands on your hips, keys and card tucked between your fingers, as you observe what you're wearing for the first time. You'd snuck one of Rafe's Kildare Island shirts from his dresser last night and had on jean shorts underneath.

"Y'know," you shrug, "You like this place, too?"

"Ah, little pretentious, but the food's acceptable," he teases, "You eating alone?"

"No. Just picking up food for Rafe and his friends."

"What, are you his assistant or something? Tell Cameron to pick up his own food," JJ huffs.

He'd never tell you, not wanting to upset you, but he's hated watching you run around the island as Rafe's bitch since you met him. JJ's been dying to hang out with you, even asked you a few times, but you always say no because you're on some sort of mission for Rafe.

"It's just a breakfast order," you reply, starting to inch toward the restaurant.

"Just a breakfast order," he shrugs, "Just getting him a beer every time he asks, just following him around like a lost puppy, just-"

"Okay," you stop him, "I'm a big girl, JJ. I can take care of myself."

You turn and start to walk away from him, trying to brush off his 'lost puppy' remark. He groans loudly, which is enough to earn your attention back.

"Prove it," he yells out, making you turn, "Tonight. There's a thing down at the beach. Meet me."

You start to shake your head, but he steps toward you and stops you. He runs a hand through his blonde hair, messing it up even more than it already is.

"JJ-"

"Come on, Y/N. Take the Kook chains off for one night. Please. Rafe can do his own dishes and get his own drinks."

You sigh, glancing down at your feet before back up to him, "Maybe."

"Ah- you know what? That's better than a no. I'll take it."

You nod at him, trying your best not to smile too wide, then point to the building. You start to back off, but you keep your eyes fixed on the blonde boy.

"What time? You know, if I decide to come."

JJ smiles wider than he had the entire conversation, "Seven."

You smile back at him, then turn and walk away before you can get even more wrapped up in this boy.

"What the hell took you so long?" Rafe questions as you walk through the door with several bags filled with food.

"Sorry," you sigh at him, "Got caught up."

Kelce and Topper stand up and step to you, taking the bags from you. You thank them quietly, watching as Rafe rolls his eyes and stands from his place on the couch.

"Yeah, never mind the fact that I'm starving to death," he mutters.

"Rafe, come on, man," Topper smacks Rafe on the chest, trying to get him to chill out.

"Yeah, quit being a dick," Kelce tells him.

Topper starts to unload the food from the bags while Kelce leans down and gives you a friendly kiss on the cheek. You smile gently, glancing up to see Rafe watching with his jaw clenched. You try to put distance in between you, but Rafe doesn't seem to care about your efforts.

"Thanks for running to get it, Y/N," Topper smiles to you.

"You're welcome."

"Did you put my seat back, at least?" Rafe asks you, swiping his car keys from the counter where you set them.

"Yes, of course," you reply.

"Of course," he mutters, "You never do."

"Rafe," Kelce says authoritatively, holding his hands out to his sides as if to ask what the hell he's doing.

"I'll fix you a plate," you tell Rafe, setting a hand on Kelce's arm as if to thank him.

Rafe exhales loudly, then steps away and back into the living room. Kelce rolls his eyes at Rafe, giving you a pat on the shoulder. You make Rafe a plate, a little bit of everything, then follow Topper into the living room to take it to him.

"Quit being an asshole to her, man," Topper mumbles to Rafe, slapping him on the back of his head.

"Don't fucking hit me," Rafe growls at Topper.

"Here you go," you hand Rafe a plate. He takes it from you without a word or a glance, inspecting the food you've given him.

"Where's your plate, love?" Topper asks you as Kelce sits down beside him, "I'll make you one. Sit down."

"No," you say quickly, earning the attention of all three boys, "I'm not staying. I gotta get home, I kinda have plans later,"

"What plans?" Rafe asks, judgment present in his voice.

The boys watch the look on your face and Topper and Kelce immediately erupt into fits of laughs and hollers.

"Boy plans, huh?" Kelce smiles at you before he shoves bacon into his mouth.

Your face flushes as you stand in front of them, glancing at Rafe to see his reaction. His jaw is clenched tightly and he's stopping eating all together.

"Who's the lucky guy, Y/N?" Topper snickers.

"It's not a big deal, you guys."

"Why am I jealous right now?" Kelce teases you. You look over at him and roll your eyes, hiding your smile from him.

"What plans?" Rafe repeats himself, raising his voice. Your eyes shoot over to him, watching his expression.

"Um, I'm going down to this thing at the beach," you say, looking down at the floor. Rafe sets his plate down on the coffee table in front of him, not wanting his food anymore.

"Are we invited?" Rafe asks, already knowing the answer. He just wants to make you say it.

"I- it's not my thing," you stutter, "I'm just meeting some people."

"Who?" Topper asks through his food.

"Uh, JJ Maybank and his friends-"

Rafe scoffs, interrupting you, "You're ditching us to hang out with Pogues?"

"I'm not ditching you, Rafe," you frown.

"Funny, that's the way it looks."

"It's just a few drinks on the beach, why are you getting so bent out of shape?" you question, watching as Topper and Kelce squirm, growing more uncomfortable.

"Bent out of shape? " he repeats, voice as if he doesn't believe you just said that, "You're the one driving across the island for shitty ass beer-"

"It's not like I was asking your opinion on my plans-"

"No, no, you were just informing us that you have plans to fuck JJ Maybank, understood."

"Rafe-" you start, but stop when Kelce sits up straight in his chair and speaks.

"What the fuck, Rafe?" Kelce stares at his best friend, "Why are you so mean to Y/N all the time? She doesn't have to hang out with us every day, and honestly, I wouldn't if you treated me the way you treat her."

"Oh, fuck off, Kelce, you don't know shit," Rafe waves him off.

Topper glances at you, then over to Rafe and speaks up as well, "He's right, Rafe. You're an asshole to her. And not just today, but a lot lately."

Rafe sits back on the couch and crosses his arms in front of his chest, rolling his eyes.

"You two don't know anything," he huffs, "Y/N and I are fine."

"Actually," you say, earning Rafe's complete attention, "I don't think we are."

He stands up now, stepping over to you and grabbing onto your wrist, "Let's discuss this in private."

You glance at the boys, trying to offer them a silent 'thank you for trying', then allow Rafe to pull you into the guest room down the hall. He slams the door once you two are inside, then runs his hand through his hair before he speaks.

"What the fuck are you doing, embarrassing me in front of the two of them?" he scoffs.

Your mouth falls open at how that is his main concern after you just told him you have doubts that the two of you are okay. Your heart sinks, watching as he paces the room. You watch the way his jaw is clenched and how his eyes are frantic as he tries to figure out how to fix things with the boys.

"I'm sorry," you say quietly.

Rafe seems to not hear you, "Jesus, now the two of them are gonna be up my ass about you for the rest of the day."

"Rafe-"

"And what the hell is up with you partying with JJ Maybank? Do you not realize how that could look, you hanging out with him?"

"Oh, my God!" you yell, not being able to take any more of his bullshit, "I don't give a shit, Rafe! I mean, seriously. I spent my entire night last night and my entire morning taking care of your ass. Because I care about you. And now, I say I want to do something for myself, and you act like I'm being selfish? Are you kidding me?"

"Oh, please," Rafe shakes his head, "You're always taking care of us, don't act like you're all noble."

"I'm not trying to be noble. I'm trying to tell you how I feel-"

"Well, I didn't fucking ask, all right?" he yells.

You frown and step back from him as if his words struck you across the face. He reaches up and pinches the bridge of his nose, trying his best to control his frustration.

"Rafe," you choke out, feeling your emotions as they rise up, "I care about you so much. But, I can't keep walking on eggshells around you. I have done everything you've asked me to do, I've been a good friend to you and I-"

"You what?" he growls at you, stepping forward and grabbing your shoulders.

"I love you, you asshole," you whisper, watching the way his eyes soften at your words, "I love you. But I'm drained. I'm exhausted. And I'm sick of being treated like some bitch who just follows you around and hopes you'll throw her a bone."

Rafe stares at you for a moment, and for the first time in a long time, you genuinely cannot tell what he's thinking. After a few seconds, he releases your shoulders and lightly shoves you away from him.

"You should leave," he says, staring at the floor.

"Really?"

"Yeah, you gotta get ready for your big date night, right?"

You laugh sarcastically at his comment, feeling stupid to have expected him to say anything different than that. He sets his hands on his hips and sighs, not bothering to look up at you. You lick your lips and take a deep breath, debating whether or not to stay and fight with him. For him.

"Fuck you, Rafe," you say.

His shoulders fall but he doesn't look up, so you turn and walk out of the room. Topper and Kelce are standing right outside the door, shocked when you suddenly emerge. You roll your eyes at them, not surprised they had been listening. They don't bother trying to stop you, because honestly, they'd leave Rafe, too.

You rush out of the house and slam the door behind you. Topper usually drives you home, but you don't bother to go back inside and ask. You can walk, it's not far.

As much as you love Rafe, as much as you'd kill to be with him, you can't condone the way he's been treating you. You know that you deserve better, just as Topper and Kelce have been reminding him. Better is exactly what you plan to have.

The beach isn't terribly busy when you arrive. You know by the time the sun sets completely, it will be packed. You spot JJ's blonde hair towering above almost everyone on the beach, watching as he laughs with his friends and tips a red cup against his lips. You walk over to him before allowing yourself to hesitate and think about leaving again.

Your fight with Rafe had completely drained your energy, and if you didn't feel like getting completely drunk to forget about it, you'd leave. JJ spies you as you approach and grins widely, starting over to you.

"No fucking way," he smiles, "Can't believe you showed, Mrs. Cameron!"

"Ha ha," you grumble, shaking your head and trying to hide a smile.

"How'd you escape from the prison that is Kook land?"

You roll your eyes, reaching up and taking the cup from his hand. You gulp it down before he can even object, and when you look up at him again, he's staring at you with his mouth wide open.

"Okay. Got it. Drinking, no talking," he reaches down and takes your hand, leading you over to the keg.

"Lots of drinking," you mutter, watching as JJ pretends he didn't hear you.

JJ grabs two beers from the guy handing them out and hands one to you, returning his hand to yours. You start to walk back over to JJ's friends, but he pulls on your hand to keep you where he wants you.

"What are you doing? Don't you want to hang out with your friends?" you ask him.

He shakes his head, "No, I'd rather figure out what's going on with you."

You sigh and take another long sip of your beer, avoiding his eyes on purpose. Although you and JJ hadn't hung out a lot, he still seems to be able to tell that you're bothered.

"It's not a big deal," you say.

"If it's bothering you, it is," JJ insists. His eyes are wide as he looks at you, and you can't help but notice how he hasn't taken one sip of his beer.

"JJ-"

"It's Rafe, I can tell. Did he hurt you?"

"No," you furrow your eyebrows, unsure of why he would even ask that. JJ just nods his head, tightening his grip around your hand.

"All right, then what?"

You give him a small smile, grateful that he's pushing so hard to try and figure out what's bothering you. You've never really had anyone do that before.

"We just got into an argument. But, it's fine-"

"Y/N-"

"I came here to have fun with you. Please don't make me spend the whole night talking about Rafe."

His eyes soften as he stares down at you. You watch as he takes a deep breath, then licks his lips and nods his head. You give him a small smile, watching as he shamelessly return it.

"You're right," he speaks after a minute, "Who needs that asshole, anyway?"

You nod, although you're hesitant to talk shit about Rafe like that, even after everything. JJ squeezes your hand once again, then tugs you toward his friends.

"Come on, let's party."

JJ pumps you full of beers, at your request, and laughs every time you attempt to get him to dance with you. His friends all watch as JJ finally gives into you, standing up as you tug on his hand and allowing you to lead him upright.

You can feel the alcohol rushing through your body as JJ spins you around in the sand, laughing at how much you're loving it. His friends cheer the two of you on, and by the time the song ends, you're completely exhausted. You collapse into JJ's chest and he wraps a strong arm around you, holding you up.

"I didn't realize I'd had so much," you tell him, slurring your words a bit against his chest.

"That's all right," he laughs lightly, "I'll take care of you."

JJ leads you back over to the log the two of you had been sitting on and helps you sit down, smiling when you lean your head down on his shoulder.

"You're nice to me," you tell him.

JJ laughs at your drunken state, pressing his cup to his lips once more. Say what you will about JJ Maybank, but never call him a lightweight.

"You deserve to be treated nicely," he fires back.

"You really believe that?" you ask him, not noticing your eyes fluttering closed against him.

"Of course, Y/N," he whispers, moving his face so his lips graze against the top of your head, "You know, there's a lot more out there than just Rafe Cameron."

"You don't know him like I do," you say quietly.

"You're right," he scoffs, "Nobody else would defend him."

"I'm serious, JJ. He's sweet and caring and protective-"

"And rude, and unkind-"

"JJ," you sigh, "I mean it. Underneath all the bullshit, he's a really great guy."

JJ's silent for a second, then you feel his body tense slightly under you. His friends are all in their own little world, to notice, but JJ isn't.

"Well, that really great guy just showed up to the party."

Your eyes shoot open and your head comes off of JJ's chest as you glance around, trying to steady your vision as you look around to see what he's talking about. When your eyes meet Rafe's, he looks upset. He's watching you and JJ like the thought of you two together actually, physically breaks his heart in half.

Topper and Kelce stand behind him, pushing Rafe forward to you. You stand up, with the help of JJ's hand steadying you, which you immediately let go of when you stand up straight. You tears your eyes away from Rafe long enough to glance back at JJ, asking him silently if it's okay if you go to him.

"Go on," he gives you a sad smile, "Tonight was fun. But, you know, I'm not the type of guy to chase after some other guy's girl."

"JJ-"

"Go, Y/N. You love him. I can tell."

You start to object, but close your mouth when you realize you have no defense. He's right, you know he is. You give JJ a little smile, then turn back to Rafe. The asshole, your asshole, who looks ready to put your heart back together again.

He starts to you and you to him, but he covers way more ground than you given that he's stone cold sober. He can tell you're having trouble standing, so he reaches out and offers his arm as soon as he's within range.

"Hey," he says quietly.

You wrap your cold hands around his arm, steadying yourself and absorbing his warmth. You take a deep breath, inhaling his familiar, heart wrenching scent and letting it fill your lungs.

"What are you doing here?" you question him.

"I- uh, I need to talk to you."

"Why? So you can yell at me and then tell me to leave again?" you spit before you can even think about it.

Rafe clenches his jaw and moves his eyes from yours, glancing around the beach as he considers what the best thing to say is in response.

"I'm sorry," you mumble.

"It's fine," he shakes his head, speaking too fast to actually mean it, "I deserve it. I was an asshole. I came here to apologize."

You nod your head, doing your best to keep your eyes on his and not trailing all down his body. He's wearing the snapback you love on him, and he has on the shirt the two of you bought together at the mall on a trip.

"You may," you tease him, giving him a small smile and hoping to get one in return. You get it, thankfully.

"I'm really sorry, Y/N. I didn't mean to ever make you feel second rate. You have been so good to me and I know I don't deserve it-"

"It's okay," you stop him, reaching one hand up to stroke his cheek. His skin, his soft skin under yours feels like heaven to touch. You know the alcohol is the only reason you're not putting up a larger fight.

"I wasn't finished," he smiles widely.

"Well, what can I say? I'm a sucker for that hat," you tease.

His grin only widens as he stares down at you, pulling you into a hug before he can even think of it. His arms wrapped tightly around you make your heart rate speed up to a dangerous level.

"You promise we're okay? Maybe we should talk again when you're sobered up-"

"I'm fine," you lie.

Rafe reaches up and cups your face in his hands, staring down at you intently. You stare back, unable to break away from his gorgeous blue eyes.

"Good, because I've got something to tell you."

Rafe watches as your lips part, wanting to question him but unable to find the right words. He smiles, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear before he continues.

"I love you, too," he whispers.

You blink rapidly at him, trying to figure out if he really just said those words to you. You shake your head and squirm out of his grasp, taking a deep breath as you look at him.

"You mean that?" you ask him.

"Yeah," he nods, swallowing nervously, "It took me half the day to realize it, but the thought of you down here with JJ literally made me want to kill him. And I'm sorry that I haven't realized it sooner. I was just scared of my feelings, I guess, and I just thought if I pushed you away-"

"You don't have to explain," you stop him, "I just can't believe you feel the same way about me."

"Who wouldn't? Topper informed me today that I happen to be the luckiest guy to walk the face of the earth because I'm loved by you. And I guess, I don't know, it made me recognize my feelings."

You smile, wrapping your arms around him and hugging him. He hugs you back without thinking twice, pulling you close and breathing you in. After a second, you pull away, and feel him tilt your chin up to meet his eyes.

"I don't know, I'm feeling pretty damn lucky right now," you whisper.

Before either of you know it, he places his lips gently on yours. His hands move themselves to your cheeks once again, pulling you closer to him. You both can hear Topper and Kelce hooting and hollering from yards away, which makes you laugh against Rafe's lips.

"I regret bringing them," he says against your lips, laughing along with you.

"You should," you agree, standing on your tip-toes and kissing him one more time.

"Can I take you home, now? Please?" he asks, voice impatient.

You bite your lip and nod, allowing him to give you one last kiss before he brings a hand down to yours, wrapping his fingers through it. He turns you toward the boys, the oh-so happy boys, and leads you away.

Away from the beer. Away from JJ. Toward your future, together.

Tags: @hollandsour @flowerkidlxrry @kookkyra @pogueslandia @sarahwasfound @fuzzyhumanpersontrash @rafecameronn @rafeswh0ree @outerbankies @morganwilliams

*if you would like to be added/removed from my taglist at any time, please send me an ask!

[dollslayer]

Champagne Problems

Bartender!Bucky x Reader

Summary: When your ex-boyfriend makes a surprise appearance at your sister's wedding you find help from an unexpected source.

W/C: 4,642

Warnings: NO MINORS, Smut, oral sex (f receiving), unprotected sex, swearing, alcohol consumption

A/N: Hey! I know it's been a minute (sorry), I wrote this for @saiyanprincessswanie's writing challenge using the bartender au! If you like this please reblog and comment and check out my other fics!! Cheers!

Main Masterlist

You sighed internally before slapping on a smile for yet another group picture. Your bridesmaid dress was itchy and you already regretted spending the entire night in it, as the reception was just starting. But it was your sister’s day and you decided that if what she really wanted was for you to wear this itchy monstrosity to honor her wedding then damn it, you’d do it. So you leaned in close with the rest of the wedding party and posed some more.

When the photographer had finished with his photos you were ushered to the family table and wedged between your mother and your aunt. You mentally cursed your sister for seating you with them because they were going to spend the entire night trying to set you up with someone while simultaneously lamenting that you’d dumped your boyfriend of 4 years just a month earlier. Your mother wanted grandchildren so badly, you didn’t know why she couldn’t just settle to get them from your sister.

“Sweetheart, you and Steve were so good together though! Remember when he surprised you at Christmas with that puppy? I don’t know how you let a man like that go…” Your mom chided.

You grabbed the attention of a passing server and grabbed the champagne off their tray. If you were going to have this conversation again you needed liquid courage to do so. You downed it in three sips and your mom scoffed at you.

“Mom, we've been over this. I didn’t ask him to do that, we agreed we weren’t ready for a dog. Ugh, oh my god, anyways, we just didn’t work together. Sometimes things don’t work out, Mom. You’ll still get grandkids, just not from me.” You patted her on the shoulder but she just pursed her lips and looked past you to your aunt.

You wanted nothing more than to get wasted but you couldn’t do that to your sister. You wouldn’t get blackout drunk, but you were definitely getting drunk tonight. The reception was being held in a hotel and the wedding party had a block of rooms reserved so it’s not like you had to drive. You just had one thing to do before you did that.

The moment you’d been dreading had finally arrived, the toast. You held your freshly topped-off glass of champagne and brought your fork to it to get everyone’s attention. Someone handed you the mic and you hesitated before taking it and nervously cleared your throat.

By what you assumed could only be the grace of God you managed to deliver the perfect toast about finding the right person and soulmates and anything else you might find in a hallmark card with only minor stumbles. Everyone clapped and your brother-in-law wiped a stray tear and everyone finally dug into dinner. You just hoped that would mean your mother would be quiet about Steve for the next 20 minutes and then you could escape to the open bar.

____

You almost made it through dinner scott-free and sat back to watch your sister’s first dance. Just when you thought you were in the clear it was your aunt that threw a wrench in your plans. She was three glasses of wine deep and had that glassy look in her eye when she grabbed your elbow and pulled you closer. She spoke to you in a low voice while trying not to fumble her words.

“Listen kiddo, I know your mom is hard on you about Stevie but she just wants what’s best for you. What you two had… it was so good even I liked him! I don’t like anybody y’know that. So.. so why don’t you jus’ give ‘im another chance, make your mom happy? Couldn’t be that bad, could it? Maybe he’ll even… surprise you”

You mentally blocked out her words halfway through her speech, hoping neither of you would remember it by the end of the night. Right now you just had to get her to stop so you could get away from the table. You didn’t think you could take one more second of being shamed for leaving Steve.

You smiled sweetly and nodded in understanding towards her words.

“I know, Aunt Linda. I know. Sometimes things happen, I love mom but I’ll find someone else.”

With that you patted her on the shoulder and took off in search of the bar.

There were two bars and you wanted to go to the less crowded one. Looking around you had spotted it just past the dancefloor and made a beeline. Weaving through the now open dance floor and escaping the invitations to join your family you finally made it and leaned heavily against the countertop with a sigh.

“Rough night?” Your eyes follow the gruff yet amused voice and find that it belongs to a very handsome man with a defined jaw, clear blue eyes, and long hair that was tied back.

You smiled and rolled your eyes.

“You don’t know that half of it. Nothing like a wedding to remind you how single you are” You joked.

“Ah. Yeah, that’ll do it. That’s rough. You look like you need a drink, what can I get you?”

“Dealer’s choice. Just no vodka.” You requested.

He smirked and nodded, perusing the lines of bottles that were in front of him. He bit his lip as he concentrated on what to make and you tried not to stare. You watched him get to work on your drink and couldn’t help but notice the way you could see his muscles move underneath his dress shirt.

He turned back around and proudly presented you with something fizzy in a highball glass.

“My own concoction, I even used the non-watered down liquor. Just for you” He says with a wink.

You try your best to hide your shy smile and accept the drink.

“Thank you, how sweet of you.” You tell him.

“It’s nothin’. So how’s a gal like you single? If you don’t mind my asking. Seems pretty impossible to me.”

You're caught somewhere between flattery and embarrassment and just hope it doesn't show on your face. You take a long sip of your drink and gear up to answer him.

“Well, I just got out of a 4 year relationship, actually. He’s really sweet but he always had a tendency to steamroll my needs and just do whatever he was going to do. Eventually that shit adds up.” You sigh.

“Like for example - last year we had talked about getting a dog and I said I wasn’t ready, we’re just both way too busy and then on Christmas day he shows up with this puppy! And then I’m the villain for telling him no! The puppy ended up going to a good home but he did stuff like that all the time. It just became too much. Anyways now my mom won’t get off my ass about leaving him.” You shook your head.

“A puppy? Wow, that’s… intense. That’s a lot, I’m sorry. You finish that drink and I’ll pour us both a shot” He laughed.

You nodded in agreement and downed the rest of the cocktail. He held up two shot glasses and extended one to you.

“A toast, to… wait. I don’t even know your name!”

His shoulders shook as he laughed and he answered you.

“I’m James but you can call me Bucky” You made a face at that.

“What kinda name is Bucky?” You asked before giving him your own name.

“Whatever, I’ve got two shots of tequila, you want one or not?” How could you say no?

“A toast,” You continued, “To you and your weird name, Bucky.”

He laughed and you clinked your glasses together, then against the counter before downing them in one go. You tried your best not to make a face and looked up at Bucky to find him extending you the lime chaser, which you took gratefully.

“Hoo… I could use like, 3 more of those to get through tonight. So, how’d you get into bartending?”

“I needed somethin’ to put me through school and I figured this beats stripping. Though, with some of the customers we get sometimes I’m not so sure”

You laughed at that and Bucky went on to tell you anecdotes of all the crazy people he’s had to serve, disastrous weddings, and the time he got a lapdance from the bride herself. You hadn’t even realized how much time had passed but you were enjoying talking to him, forgetting your mission to be drunk.

The two of you kept swapping stories and were getting to know each other a bit more. He let you vent about Steve and just listened, it was refreshing to talk to someone and not be told what it is that you should be wanting. When you pictured the night you didn’t picture yourself confiding in the bartender tonight but if you were honest you were enjoying yourself. It beat awkwardly dancing with your family and enduring more disappointed remarks from your family.

You had hoped you could hide out at the bar and spend the entire night unscathed when the double doors to the ballroom opened. Your heartbeat in your ears as time slowed down around you as a blond head of hair made its way through the archway. Your laughter died in your throat when Baby blue eyes found you across the room and you froze like a deer in headlights. No. Nononononono this isn’t happening.

Time has somehow come to a halt while simultaneously hurtling forward since you can’t get yourself unstuck from this moment yet fail to realize that Steve is now standing right in front of you. His hair is swept back perfectly and he flashes you that million dollar smile of his that shows off his dimples perfectly. You scold yourself for checking him out but damn did he always clean up nice.

“Hey, sweetheart” he says shyly, as if he’s not crashing your sister’s wedding to get with you.

“What…? What are you doing… here?” You ask quietly, trying to avoid a scene.

Before he can answer you your mom comes up behind Steve and squeezes his shoulders tight, all with a big, bright smile on her face. Of course. How did I not see this coming?

“You made it!” She exclaimed as she leaned up to kiss his cheek.

“Of course, sorry to have missed the ceremony but there’s still plenty to celebrate, right?” He asked with his signature boyish smirk.

Shock was still in full effect on your features as you stood stock still. But that shock was soon giving way to anger as you slowly pieced together everything that was happening. Your mom had brought back Steve to try and get you back together and Steve was steamrolling you again.

“I… I, can’t. I can’t-” You started

“Sweetheart, how many of those have you had? You need some water.” Steve motions to the drink in your hand and you feel the anger running through your veins about to take over. You have to move this out of the room. Now.

“Why don’t we move this to the hall?” You suggested quietly.

You didn’t give him a chance to respond before you started moving towards the exit but you did spare one last panicked glance towards Bucky. He looked confused and his brows were quirked in a way that made him look upset, almost. You sent him a pleading look before turning back around and preparing yourself to deal with this shitshow that had slowly unfolded before you.

Breathe in. Hold. Breathe out. Hold. You got this. Your hand begins to push the door open when Steve’s much larger one covers yours and gets the job done. An action that you once would’ve thought was sweet, one that you would’ve made you swoon, even, is currently pissing you off.

You two made your way to the hallway and you looked around before you started in on him.

“Okay, what the hell, Rogers? Crashing my sister’s wedding? Really?! I don’t give a shit if my mom put you up to this I-”

“Sweetheart, please. She thought you might be having second thoughts and maybe us seeing each other would… patch things up. We just want what’s best for you, sweetheart” Steve attempted to console you, reaching out to try and rub your arm but you pulled back.

“No! I am so sick of you running me over! You never listened to me or what I had to say and this is exactly why I broke up with you, Steve! You’re being so fucki-”

“Hey, babe, everything okay out here?” Bucky’s voice surprised you but not as much as his lips pressing a kiss into your hair and his arms wrapping around your waist.

You had to crane your neck to look back and up at him. It took all of two seconds for you to piece together what you’d hoped was the truth. Bucky raised his eyebrows at you as if to say “come on” and in all your desperation you went with it. You supposed that his formal uniform made him pass for a regular guest.

“I, ah, yeah, yes. Steve here was just leaving, right?” You asked him.

Steve raised his eyebrows in a stunned expression, mouth slightly open in disbelief. His hand reached out towards your shoulder but Bucky pulled you back gently.

“Doll, are you serious? Who even is this guy? Does your mom know about this?”

“No, she doesn’t. It’s… new…” You told him.

“Right,” Bucky cuts in, “It’s new so we weren’t telling anyone just yet but she figured I should at least be here for the reception”

“Seriously?” Steve scoffs, “Man bun? What does he have that I don’t? C’mon, you know what you and I have is real.”

“What you and I have is over, Steve. You never listened to me, always pushed me further than I was ready for. We’re done, it’s over. I’m sorry for whatever Mom told you”

Steve took a harsh breath inwards and you watched him try to decide whether he should walk away or blow up. Based off of the veins popping in his forehead, he was opting to blow up.

“Listen, I don’t know what you’re up to but-”

“She said it’s over, punk. Move along” Bucky cut in. He took a protective step in front of you and pushed his shoulders back, squaring up to Steve. Steve seethed quietly and you two exchanged very tense glances.

“I’m telling your mother about this. I doubt she’ll be happy to hear you brought some random person to your sister’s wedding.” Steve spat.

He walked past the two of you and bumped shoulders harshly with Bucky. Bucky’s jaw tensed and his grip on your waist tightened but he didn’t retaliate. Instead he took a step back to get a proper look at you.

“You okay?”

“Why did you do that? You didn’t have to.”

“I know, but you looked like you could really use the help.”

“Well… thank you. I appreciate it, more than you know. I don’t know what would’ve happened if you weren’t there.” You laughed to yourself a little and added, “We’re not even together 5 minutes and you already have all my emotional baggage”

Bucky laughed at that and shook his head.

“Don’t worry ‘bout it. I’ve got some crazy exes too. So what now? You going back in?”

You became a little flustered at that but moved past it with a sheepish grin.

“No,” You shook your head, “I think it’s best for everyone if I just go up to my room and avoid a whole scene.”

“Well at least let me walk you up. I wouldn’t put it past that creep to follow you.”

“What about the bar?”

“We’re overstaffed and the party’s winding down anyways. They’ll get on without me”

“Alright then” You accepted and started off towards the elevators.

You two were standing in the elevator waiting for the doors to close when you spotted the doors to the ballroom open. Your mother was looking around, her face a picture of anger. Lucky for you the doors closed before she could look in your direction and you let out a sigh of relief.

“You know as far as fake boyfriends go I’d say you’re pretty good”

“Just good? C’mon I had that guy on the ropes.”

“Yeah alright,” You relented with a grin.

You exited the elevator car and made your way down the hallway until finally you reached your door. You fished your keycard out of your wallet and turned to Bucky.

“Hey… do you wanna… maybe come in? Hang out? I know you’ve got work but if you’re overstaffed maybe…” You trailed off. There was a beat of silence and you felt regret instantly, thinking you’ve asked too much of him. “Y’know what nevermind, you don’t have to, I’m sorry I-”

“I’d love to hang out with you, if you’re okay with that. Plus it’s probably better I wait to get back until the wedding’s over. Can’t really show my face as your boyfriend and then get back behind the bar, can I?” He said with a soft smile.

“Suppose you’re right,” You swiped the card and cracked open the door.

You stepped inside and felt like you could finally breathe again. You kicked off your heels and went to turn on the lights. You reached back to get the zipper of your dress but couldn’t quite get there.

“Will you get my zipper?” You asked Bucky. He nodded and came closer to you.

You could feel his warmth radiating from him when he was this close. Your nostrils filled with the heady scent of his aftershave. He smells so good. He unzipped you halfway and left the rest for you.

You thanked him and grabbed your change of clothes and headed to the bathroom. Relieved to finally be free of the itchy monstrosity of a bridesmaids dress you sighed and put on a tank top and pair of shorts. You realized the tank top showed a little more of your cleavage than intended but you shrugged it off and exited the bathroom.

Bucky’s eyes landed on you and he took a sharp breath in but tried to play it cool. It half worked, you caught him staring a little bit and giggled to yourself. When you looked at him again he was undoing his tie and the first two buttons of his shirt. Wonder what he’d look like if he unbuttoned just a few more… You stopped yourself in that line of thinking and joined him on the couch.

“I think your phone’s gonna zap itself into an early grave with the way it’s been going off” Bucky said as he pointed to your phone on the table.

You picked it up to find you had several missed calls from your mother, one from Steve, and one very long text message from him that was already inducing a headache. You opened it, forgetting you had read receipts on. Oops. You weren’t going to read this now in front of Bucky, so you shut it off and put it aside.

“So how are you feelin’?” He asked.

“Better now that I’m out that damned dress. As for my family, they'll get over themselves. I don’t know why who I’m dating is such a big deal to them anyways.”

“You do look more comfy now that you’ve changed. If you don’t mind me sayin’ you’re just as gorgeous now as you were all dolled up”

You felt heat flood your cheeks instantly and eked out a thank you. You and Bucky talked for an hour more or so and in that time you’d found yourself nodding off with your head on his chest. On instinct he brought your whole body closer to him and put his arm around you. If you were less sleepy you’d be embarrassed but right now you didn’t care.

Bucky had moved slightly and inadvertently jolted you awake. You shot up and realized that you’d cuddled your way into Bucky’s side and now the embarrassment was catching up with you. You instantly scooted back to give him some space.

“Sorry, I uh, didn’t mean to cuddle you” You said while avoiding his gaze.

You felt a hand on your thigh and finally looked up to find him smirking at you.

“I didn’t mind it. It’s getting late though, I should get back.”

You were slightly disappointed but nodded your head. You rose and followed him to the door. He went for the handle but turned around when you grabbed his hand. He stepped away from the door and was in your personal space. You looked up at him with a shaky breath.

“Thank you, again, for what you did. It was really sweet of you.” He smiled down at you and brought one hand to your face. Oh God, I didn’t prepare for this. Your heart was beating just a little harder as you looked into his clear blue eyes.

“For you? Anytime. I had a really fun time with you tonight.”

“Me too.”

With that his other hand came up to cup your face and he kissed you sweetly. It wasn’t until you kissed him back that he pulled away.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to, I don’t wanna make you uncomf-”

You grabbed him by the shirt collar and brought him in for another kiss. This time more demanding but just as sweet. He let out a small moan and you swear you could’ve melted. His tongue explored your mouth while his hands moved their way down your body and brought you even closer to him. You could feel that he was hard and it only made you want him more.

Without breaking the kiss you started to move backwards towards the bed until finally you were just at the edge of it. You broke apart for air and searched his eyes only to find his pupils blown wide in lust. You cupped him through his pants and he groaned. He was big. Maybe even bigger than Steve.

“We don’t have to do anythin’ you don’t want to do,” He breathed out. You shook your head and kissed him again.

“I want you, I’m sure.” You panted out.

“I don’t have a condom”

“Doesn’ matter, I’m on the pill” You told him. With that his hands were up your tank top and you’d helped him to remove it. He worked on his shirt next and while he fumbled with the buttons you took off the rest of your clothing.

Bucky was every bit as devastating as you’d thought he’d be and you let out a genuine sigh. His toned muscles rippled throughout his arms and torso and you watched him remove his boxers and you’re not entirely sure your jaw hadn’t dropped. He noticed you gawking and chuckled as he leaned down to join you on the bed.

“See somethin’ you like?”

He didn’t give you the chance to answer though, he pushed you backwards onto the bed and kissed you again, this time trailing his kisses all the way down your body. He stopped and took his time to admire each of your breasts, licking and biting your nipples. You’d gasped in surprise and pleasure. He moved his way down finally to your pussy and looked up at you.

“Can I? You could only nod and let out a shaky breath as you sat up on your elbows and watched him get to work. He kissed and caressed your thighs until finally his fingers were prodding at your entrance. He groaned at how wet you were and pushed two fingers in. You let out an obscene moan and your hands went into his locks. His tongue lapped at your clit before he sucked on it, all the while pumping his fingers in and out of you in search of your G-spot.

You’d pulled his hair out of his bun and guided his tongue where he needed to be. Finally getting the right angle you were whimpering in pleasure, back arched almost to a point of pain. He’d finally found the spot he’d been looking for and your eyes shut closed in pleasure.

“Please,” you begged, “Please don’t stop I’m so close”

You pushed his head harder against you and his fingers sped up. It was only a matter of moments until your toes were curling in pleasure and you writhed on the bed in the aftershock of your orgasm. Bucky continued to lap away at you until you pushed him off. He came back up to eye level with you and had a wolfish grin.

“Who knew you’d make such noises? God it was so hot”

You pulled him in for another kiss and reached down to grab his cock. You pumped it a few times before you moved down to return the favor when he stopped you. You looked up at him with brows pinched in concern.

“Don’ worry about me, I just wanna feel you”

He moved you beneath him and you spread your legs apart for him. You were still sensitive in your post-high when his tip brushed your clit but you didn’t mind the bolt of pleasure. He aligned himself with your entrance and looked you in the eye as he pushed all the way inside of you slowly. You let out an involuntary moan, trying to accommodate his full length.

“You good?” He asked.

“I’m good, you’re just...big” He smirked at that.

“Can I move or do you need a second?”

“No, you can move, please move.”

One hand on your hip and the other on your breast he started thrusting in and out of you at a steady pace. You swore you could feel every bump and ridge of him with every inch he put into you. His pace picked up and he kissed the column of your neck, finding the one spot that drove you crazy. Your small mewls turned to full moans and he began fucking you harder.

“‘M not gonna last much longer” He told you. You didn’t say anything in response, just brought him in for another kiss and grabbed a handful of his ass to push him further inside you. He chuckled at that and took the hint.

He was going the hardest he had so far and you were holding on for dear life and loving every minute of it. His panting breaths were heavy in your ears and you reached down to toy with your clit so you’d cum together. His thrusts were getting a little sloppier and your hand moved faster, quickly approaching both your peaks. He let out an almost pornographic moan as he came, He fucked you through his orgasm and not a moment later you came for a second time. Your bodies melded together as you rode out the last waves of each other’s orgasms.

Finally Bucky stopped and held himself with one hand, trying to catch his breath. You were slightly dazed, trying to compute how your night had ended up like this. Bucky rolled over onto the bed and you felt the mess between your thighs. You looked over to him with a hazy smile.

“So, I know we’re doin’ things a little backwards here but, maybe I could take you out some time? If you want?”

Your smile grew even wider and your heart felt so light in this moment.

“I’d like that”

You didn’t know what tomorrow would hold or how to even begin cleaning up the mess with your family. You’d deal with it all in the morning, for now you’d just bask in the afterglow with your fake boyfriend and be grateful for chance meetings.

[gojology]

Lovebirds.

𝑨𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓'𝒔 𝑵𝒐𝒕𝒆 |  omg this is my first request. ilysm anon, im now feelin super cool. also, i just realized i put recc (as in recommended) instead of requests. i’m super stupid LOL. anyways, im touch starved too dw bby, i’m servin u up a long one since i rlly like this request and after all u r my first! 𝑷𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 | Gojo x Wife! Reader 𝑾𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝑪𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 | 2307 𝑾𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 | None! 𝑺𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚 | Coming home from a long mission in America, precisely 1 year, you’re excited to catch up on Gojo’s students, Nanami, and just Gojo in general.   Leaning out of the car window, resting your arm against your purse, you sighed. A humid wind brushed against your skin, tickling you. It had been quite a while since you had been in Japan, spending almost a year on a huge mission in America. You had killed a battalion worthy amount of special grades.   You spent most of your time in America in mostly horribly rundown places, equally as infested with curses. Although you found yourself enjoying America’s natural beauty, further away from the city life that many of the Americans found themselves enjoying, you much preferred Japan. after all, it was your home, and where you met Gojo Satoru. It would be another day until you could return, and you had gone through hundreds of scenarios of finally being in his arms again, but nonetheless, you were ecstatic at the thought of your husband’s touch.   Your phone’s notification chimed loudly, you threw your phone onto the other seat, heart jumping up to a high rate. It was a recording of Satoru loudly yelling, “OPEN YOUR FUCKING PHONE!” with a flurry of giggles afterwards.    Ijichi jumped, turning left and right. Whispering under his breath, he let out an exasperated sigh, switching the music channel.    The recording was mostly because of the time you had to ghost him due to work. Gojo had snuck on and recorded it, doing some magical tech stuff and giving you the custom notification sound. You had kept it that way ever since, since secretly, you enjoyed that you were so badly wanted by Gojo, that, and you had no idea how to change it back.    But the custom notification was sweet as well.   You smiled to yourself every time you heard it, a familiar twinge of pain flashing inside of you whenever you realized you wouldn’t be able to see him for a while.   Well, today, and the days after that would be different. You’d be able to finally see Gojo again, and his new students that he always frantically texted you about. Nanami, an old friend of Gojo, and also an old friend of yours, would also be there to welcome you back, you found yourself reminiscing about them.   You had heard so much about them, one of the kids being Sukuna’s vessel, you wondered how Gojo could contain such a fear, being around the kid at all times, he always told you about how the kid was actually energetic and happy and an overall great kid, you had heard about Nanami, finally coming back into the jujutsu sorcerer field of work, even though you always found that he still had a thing for finances.   You shook your head, “Save that shit for later, (Y/N).” muttering to yourself, you didn’t want to think of anything but Gojo, after all, it had been one fucking year of being deprived of the man you loved most. You were practically starving for the guy, in more ways than one.   Ijichi gulped, facing towards you, one hand on his steering wheel, “Forgive me Mrs. Satoru, but um.. Forgive me if I misheard, but I think I heard your phones notification go off.. Due to the ah- incredibly loud profanity.”   Now just realizing that you had completely forgotten about the phone notification, you nodded your thanks to Ijichi, a warmth rushing to your cheeks before opening up your phone.    In the small, rounded box containing Gojo’s message, he wrote in all caps, “SUGAR, MY BELOVED, MY QUEEN, HOW CLOSE ARE YOU? I CAN’T FUCKING WAIT I’M LITERALLY BOUNCING UP AND DOWN IN OUR BED.”   Smiling to yourself, you furiously texted back, “Calm down honeybun, I’ll be there in like, 24 hours, I’m not even fucking close.”   You almost instantly got a DM back, making you jump a bit in your seat. Even with the 5 years of friendship, and the 3 years of relationship, and the 2 years of marriage, he still almost always texted you back as quickly as possible.   “God I can’t fucking wait for you to meet the kids! We’ll keep it a surprise, yeah? We have a bunch of treats, and we also got the kids to get some gifts for you! How thoughtful aren’t they? They’re MY offspring by the way, so like, you know, whenever you want a kid, it’s your call ;)”   You snorted to yourself, smiling. He genuinely seemed so excited, and it was all shining through even though it was from a screen.    “Maybe in a few years, I don’t even wanna imagine a little you.”   Despite the excited, bubbling feeling brewing bigger and bigger in your stomach, you figured it’d be best to sleep before the chaos. Happily sighing, you laid down, using your purse as a pillow, drifting into a blissful sleep.  ‧₊˚✩彡.   You awoke to a sudden halt, Looking around your surroundings, you figured you were home. Ijichi looked like he was damn near about to fall asleep on the steering wheel.   Well, maybe that’s what 24 hours of constant driving did to you. You fished around in your purse, silently cursing looking for a water bottle.   “Here, Ijichi, looks like you ran a marathon.” you grinned, handing the slightly crumped water bottle to him.   He beamed as if a guardian angel had descended down and gave him a trillion dollars.   “Mrs. Satoru! You really mean it? The ride was nothing, I was merely instructed to do so and I would’ve done it happily regardless.”   You waved your hand, as a dismissal of the conversation. “You overwork yourself Ijichi, go catch a break, on me. If Gojo tears you apart, tell him he won’t be getting any pussy from me for another year.”   Ichiji nodded vigorously, before dashing off, probably towards a massage center, God that guy needed it. ‧₊˚✩彡.    Gojo frantically hopped up and down, it had been a day, now he was just waiting for you to bust through the door in your wild hair, his legs sprawled onto the whole of a couch, he stared at the ceiling, a dopey smile spread across his face.     “Satoru. (Y/N) will not even want to be associated with you, looking at your current state.” he remarked, staring at the sorcerer with his strikingly dead eyes.     “Nanami, how the fuck am I supposed to act calm?! I’ve waited for this moment for ONE YEAR! Does my hair look normal?!”    “Your hair looks just like an albino porcupine, just as usual.” Flipping the page of his newspaper, he sighed, rubbing his temples. “I will never understand how someone like (Y/N) would be.. Interested in you, Satoru.”     Gojo paid no attention to the insult Nanami had so clearly made, his ears were perked up, eavesdropping on a distant conversation coming closer and closer.     “Gojo-Senpai was telling me about this movie while training my cursed energy! He basically spoiled the whole thing but he told me that the main character was super annoying but apparently she dies in the end in the most gruesome way possible! It’s worth the watch, your soul will feel cleansed as soon as you see her lifeless body!”     “Yuuji, you literally spoiled the whole thing to me just now.” Fushiguro calmly stated, looking bored out of his mind.     “Oh, oops.” Yuuji rubbed the back of his neck. He smiled coyly, tightly hugging his present.    “What’s with the decorations, Gojo-Sensei?” inquired Nobara, stroking her warm toned brown hair. She had figured it was something about the presents that Gojo had forced the trio to get, but he never told them who it was for.    The room had been decorated with various balloons and confetti, scattered about, on the table and the ground. A cake box wrapped with a gigantic bow limply guarded whoever was brave enough to get their hands on something that Gojo seemed to be protecting with his life.    A pink table cover with a crudely drawn Gojo and what would seem to be a girl, a heart in the middle of the pair. In a horrible font with an even awfuller text, the text on top and at the bottom of the drawing proudly stated:    “WELCOME BACK QT”    “-YOU’RE HUSBAND AND THE CREW”    Nobara stood in distaste, trying to disguise the face she made. The drawing, the misused you’re, and the overall poor design choice was enough to almost make her vomit.     Nobara, about to make her distasteful statements about the whole mess, was suddenly shut up as Gojo started hopping up and down, looking directly at his phone.   “SHE’S COMING! SHE’S COMING! EVERYONE IN YOUR PLACES!”    Now, seeing Gojo freak out wasn’t outside of the ordinary, but it was to see him freak out to this extent. He was hopping up and down, blabbering about a certain woman named (Y/N). Nobara was pretty sure that if a curse attacked right now, even a special grade comparable to the one with the uncomplete domain could completely crush Gojo, the guy seemed completely unaware of the example he was setting to the kids. Even Yuuji stood in disbelief, and he had seen multiple tantrums by Gojo.   Nanami, however, licked his finger and flipped the newspaper page. A face of boredom obviously displayed.     Nobara, preparing herself to chew Gojo out about how utterly stupid and embarrassing he made the whole class of jujutsu sorcerers look like, stopped wide eyed as she looked at the doors slide wide open. ‧₊˚✩彡.    You stood, shyly, looking at the ground. Gojo dove headfirst into your arms, laughing like a maniac and digging his face into your shoulder. You breathed in his scent, scanning the room.     Three teens, sat wide-eyed, backs straight as they looked at you with eyes you couldn’t quite read. All three of them held presents.     The one with eyelids underneath his eyes (which you assumed was Yuuji, the vessel of Sukuna) eyed you curiously, his eye twitched.     The other boy, one with wild black-blue hair, sat mouth agape, before closing it. He looked like he was about to say something, before stopping entirely and hugging his present closer to his chest.    The warm haired girl darted her eyes between you two, seemingly trying to put the puzzle together.     Nanami put the newspaper down, glancing over to you two.    “This is obviously Gojo-Senpai’s wife. He hasn’t seen her in many months, and as you can see, really really misses her.” he paused, a small smile spreading on his face, a rare sight.     “I don’t even know why myself, but what can you do with lovebirds?” he thought aloud, his attention now focused to the two of you furiously making out, hands in places Yuuji and the crew didn’t need to see.    “Satoru, (Y/N), leave the kissing for later. Don’t you see the kids?”     You detached yourself from his mouth, panting for breath. The air being exhaled out of his nose fanned over your face, you had just now realized the kids again.     “Satoru, lets sit down. I bet the kids are surprised. “ you motioned to the couch. Gojo whined.     “What? They’re not that dumb, they can tell you’re my wife or at least, you’re my girlfriend, just by the way we kiss right? Isn’t this telling enough?”     “You didn’t tell them about me, ever did you?”     He sighed in defeat, holding tightly onto your arm as you dragged him over and sat down on the comfortable couch, opposite of Yuuji and the crew. Nanami scooched over, before finally getting up to pull another chair from somewhere else. Grunting, he excused himself from the room.     “YOU HAD A GIRLFRIEND, GOJO-SENPAI? AND DIDN’T TELL US?” Yuuji questioned, looking like he was about to faint.    Gojo laughed, snuggling deeper onto you, almost like a koala.     “She’s my wife, aren’t you, sugar? Did you even pay attention to anything Nanami said? He literally said she was my wife.”     Megumi made an obvious gagging sound, but even he didn’t seem as bored as he was usually. He actually looked intrigued.     “Why didn’t you tell us, Gojo-Senpai?” the girl nagged, slamming her fist down on the table.     Gojo smiled, “Uh, well, I wanted it to be a surprise when she came back.”     “Couldn’t you have told us that you had a wife or something?” Megumi butt in.    The door slid open, Nanami coming in with a wooden stool.     “Knowing Gojo-Senpai, that probably went over his head.” grunting as he placed the wooden stool down and sat, he opened his newspaper again.     “Where do you guys know eachother?”    “Was Gojo-Senpai handsome back in highschool too?”    “Do you know what lipgloss Gojo-Senpai wears?”    “Gojo-Senpai, how did you know you loved her?”     “Gojo-Senpai, can we eat now?”     “Do you know why Gojo has such a horrible sweet tooth?”      Before you could even respond, Nanami put his hand up.     “Now, now, lets let the happy couple settle down.” he cleard his throat, not even making eye contact with anyone but the newspaper.     An audible chorus of groans sounded, “What do you expect us to do? We literally just met her!” moaned Yuuji.    “Weren’t you the one that literally asked if we could eat yet?”    Yuuji immediately shut up afterwards.     “Yuuji, she just came back from a 1 day trip. She should be laying down comfortably with Gojo-Senpai and they should be catching up. You’ll have the opportunity to talk to her and learn about her later. Right now she needs space.”    “But-” Nobara whined, clasping her hands together.    Nanami turned to Fushiguro, but even he had his mind set. “I didn’t even begin to think that Gojo had a wife. I really want to know more about her, if you think about it, this is all Gojo-Sensei’s fault.”    Nanami rubbed his temples, staring at the two of you for backup, realizing that you two were making out again.    Nanami sighed, 10 years later and you two were still the same.    

[theworldofotps]

Matchmaking

Pairing: Finn Balor x Reader Word Count: 1,460 Description: Becky gives the reader and Finn a nudge into admitting their feelings.  (There will not be a part 2)

Dedicated to @new-zealand-chic I hope you enjoy this sweet lady thanks for all you do for me. ________ Tag list: @hungmanhorsecarriage @writtingrose @sjwrites22 @sassymox @new-zealand-chic @mrsambroserollinsacklesmgk @xladyxfatex @biforrollynch @irish-newzealand-idian-dutch @demonqueen29 @itsicantbelievethis666 @lilred91 @xbreezymeadowsx @rebellious-desires @youcantreignonmyparade @melblacc @letsgivethisonemoreshot @omg-im-such-a-masochist @alination @ava-valerie @shortyiceheart @serpantscorpio8497

If you wanna be added to the list lemme know. ________ “Bálor! Get your ass back here with my phone before I end you!”

You yell running down the hall after the laughing Irishman in front of you. 

“You couldn’t end me lass, and we both know it!”

Finn laughs over his shoulder as he darts past other superstars and staff, he needs to find somewhere to hide.

 “Finn!”

“Can’t catch me y/n!” 

You hated running after him your legs were starting to burn from having just finished a match. Barely missing Natalya, you follow Finn into catering where he stands using Becky as a shield. 

“Tell her to stay away from me!”

“I’m going to kick your ass first for taking my shit now give it back!”

“Easy easy you’re gonna make me drop my plate.” 

Becky looks between the two of you and sets her plate down on the table. 

“Now what happened y/n?”

“I just finished getting out of the shower and was dressing, well this ass knocked on the door and once I was decent I let him in. Said he needed the name of the next arena we are gonna be in this upcoming week. I was busy texting a reply to Hunter, he took my phone and ran with it.” 

“Finn.”

Becky turns looking at Finn who gives her a smile.

“Is that true?” 

“…”

“Fergal.” 

“Okay fine yes I did but I was just having a little fun is all.”

“Give it back.”

Holding your hand out you watch as Finn pouts then reaches out, setting the phone in your palm. His fingers lingering sent a spark up your arm.

“Thank you Becky.”

“You’re welcome, glad I could help fix this.” 

She smiles sitting down watching the two of you. 

“I’m sorry for upsetting you.” 

Finn says opening his arms for a hug, trying to keep yours cool you hug him back. On the outside you were trying to look unbothered, but on the inside you wanted to melt into his embrace. Letting him go you smile patting his back. 

“All’s forgiven no worries just please don’t do it again.” 

“Alright well I need to get going to meet up with Seth and Roman so I’ll see you girls later.” 

Giving your shoulder a squeeze you watch him walk off. 

“He’s so into you.” 

“What?” 

Looking at Becky she offers you a bottle of water and pulls your chair out. 

“Come on, he didn’t have any real reason to take hour phone. He was laughing the whole time you were chasing him and he wanted a hug. Finn usually doesn’t hug people unless he’s really comfortable with them. 

Not to mention he’s always flirting with you.”

“He is not, Becks I think you need to see the trainer because something is wrong with your eyesight.” 

You say avoiding her gaze as you sip the water, Becky watches you eyes slightly narrowed.

“Why are you denying he could like you? Do..do you like Finn?”

“What?! No! I no way I couldn’t not after knowing he’s your ex. That breaks the girl code. I wouldn’t do that to you so no no.” 

“Y/n we’re grown women that was ages ago he didn’t hold it against Seth for dating me. And I wouldn’t hate you or be upset, I’m not into Finn that way anymore that’s in the past. If he wasn’t my ex, let’s pretend. How would you feel then?” 

“If he wasn’t your ex? Well then yeah, I would have feelings for him. He’s the sweetest, always makes me laugh and is someone I can go to for advice. I would find myself wanting to be around him all the time wondering if he thought of me like I did him.

But that’s just pretend, he’s a bit too touchy and stuff….It makes me uncomfortable. I don’t want you or anyone else to get the wrong idea. You and I are friends and it just wouldn’t be right.”

You say rambling as you spin the cap of your water on the table. Of course you were lying through your teeth but you couldn’t tell her that.

“Okay let me take care of it.”

“Thanks Becks you’re the best.” 

“My pleasure love.” 

She smiles winking as you continue chatting.  ~~ “She’s just scared because she knows we dated and doesn’t wanna ruin our friendship. She doesn’t wanna break girl code like ``come on, it doesn’t matter, especially after I told her it was fine.” 

Becky tells Finn as they walk a lap around the lake.“It’s nice she’s at least considerate of your feelings.” 

Finn had managed to remain quiet while listening to Becky share her conversation with y/n yesterday. 

“Yeah she’s a doll, so what are you gonna do?”

“I don’t know Becks, what if she isn’t serious? Some people just agree to end the subject. What if it’s like that?” 

“Fergy you just trust me when I tell you that y/n likes you, she’s just scared. Tell her how you feel.”

“I don’t know, I took a big chance trying to flirt with her and it totally went over her head. I’ll think about it.” 

“Alright okay, can I use your phone to text Seth for a ride? Mine is in his locker room charging.” 

“Sure I’ll be right back, I need the loo.”

Watching Finn walk away Becky brings up the contacts. 

“This man is smitten. 

To: Y/n🔥💕, Can we meet up after work? I really want to talk to you. 

To: Finn😈🙈, Sure sounds good I’ll meet you in the parking lot at 4 

To: Y/n🔥💕,  See you then x

Setting his phone back down after messaging Seth to pick her up Becky hums swinging her legs as she watches Finn come back.

“Manage to get ahold of him?”

“Yeah he thought it was you at first, I said baby hey I was wondering then asked and he said Finn babe you know I love you but I’m with Becky. Maybe in another life.”

“He’s something else.” Finn laughs shaking his head as he sits back down and takes his phone. 

“Oh, and you’re also meeting y/n in the parking lot at 4 so don’t be late I gotta go if you break her heart I’ll kick your ass and the same goes for her. Love ya, Ferg!”

“WAit wait Becks!”

Finn calls after his friend sighing as she quickly leaves the room checking his messages he groans rubbing his forehead. She was such a meddlesome woman it was crazy at times. Looking at the messages Finn blows a puff of air out then decides to just go on with it, the worst that could happen is an awkward encounter. 

You lean against your car waiting for Finn to come out you weren’t sure what he needed it didn’t hurt to find out. 

“Hey y/n.”

“Oh hi Finn.”

“I hope I wasn’t keeping you waiting for too long I just finished a shower and hurried to get dressed.”

“Nah you’re good I haven’t been out here very long so no worries there.”

“Awesome, sorry about this Becky sent you the message from my phone and I thought about canceling. But I spent time thinking and I decided to keep it because well I have something important to tell you.” Standing up straight you look at Finn searching his face, you were a little worried he was going to tell you he didn’t want to be friends anymore.

“I like you. And I was wondering if maybe you’d like to go out for dinner or something tomorrow. You don’t have to if you don’t want I wouldn’t be upset if you decline. But I figured that.”

“Wait hold on you like me? As a friend or as.”

“Or as more than a friend yeah I do.” Finn smiles rubbing the back of his neck watching your face for some sign, anything to give him an idea of what you were thinking. “But what about Becky?” “Becky I think wants this more than anyone trust me she gave me a big push.”

Smiling at Finn you give a slow nod.

“I like you too okay yeah dinner sounds great.” Really? Wonderful okay well I’ll text you later I’ll let you go okay?” “Yeah I should get going thank you talk later.” You both grinned waving as he backed away to his car stumbling over a pothole causing you both to laugh as you get in your cars. Honking you wave to him pulling out and heading home. After both cars are gone Becky steps out from her hiding spot turning when she hears Seth chuckling as he walks over.

“You did a great job baby, I think they can take it from here.”

“I know I just wanted to help give them that last little nudge to happiness.”

[doodlebeeberry]

while im waitin for laundry again: like half-ish of a sketch in which soda bottle makes pancakes. might finish n clean this up later cause i like. really like plain domestic shit with these three

For several minutes after waking Soda opted to just lay there, bathing in the warmth of the morning sunlight pouring over him and the arm wrapped around him loosely, setting him into place. They’d somehow gotten shuffled around in their sleep, so that he lay in the center, Liam’s face smushed against his left shoulder and Amelia strewn over his right side. Muffled birdsong drifted in through the window, and he’d bet five bucks that there was a robin perched on the windowsill right now, the same one that’d been setting up shop there every morning for the past two months.

He was comfortable where he was. It was a bit early to be up still in his opinion, and he very much contemplated going back to sleep, but then Liam would mumble dream-laden nothings or Amelia would curl closer into his side, holding tight, and something deep win his chest would warm a bit, blooming in his throat and making him feel nothing short of an unending fondness, even if it came at the cost of his arms being a bit pinned at odd angles around them. 

Then his stomach rumbled, and he very much recalled the second thing keeping him awake: he was hungry.

So, ten minutes of laying about later, he set himself on the daunting task of untangling himself from the mess of limbs and bedding they’d become, leaving behind a hollow where he’d been laying. Sitting at the edge of the bed, he watched just for a moment how the sunlight framed them. Both warm-toned by it, edges softened in honey-gold light, glowing lovely, even as Liam rolled over unceremoniously, very nearly smacking Amelia in the face in the process, seeking her out as though trying to fill the gap. He smiled a bit when they found each other. 

So very fond indeed.

He took a moment to lean over, holding gently first Amelia’s hand, then Liam’s, offering each a soft squeeze. He didn’t really think they were awake enough to hear it, but even still he mumbled, words warm to match

     “I’m gonna go make breakfast, alright?”

He didn’t get much reply beyond a soft sigh from Liam. Even still, he pulled back, lingering for just a moment before leaving them to sleep in peace.

Setting their little electric kettle to boil, Soda found himself tangling with the pressing issue of what exactly to make. Digging through the cupboards didn’t really yield much: some flour, vanilla, salt, sugar. They were running a bit low on milk and were completely out of bread, and by the time the water was boiling he found himself compiling a rudimentary grocery list instead of deciding what to make. 

Instant coffee, he discovered as he scraped the last dregs of it into his mug, was very much on it. He added a bit of milk before sipping the bitter drink slowly, thinking.

Flour, sugar, salt, vanilla, eggs...did they have baking powder? 

A bit more digging revealed that yes, they did, though it was edging close to its expiration date. He set everything out on the counter beside the stove, alongside a bowl, whisk, and, after nearly turning the kitchen upside-down looking for it, measuring spoons. He stared them down a moment. He hadn’t made pancakes from scratch in a long time, well before he met them at least. The boxed stuff, sure, he’d thrown that together at least once in recent memory, but he was at least fairly certain he hadn’t attempted this since he was a teen, guided from the sidelines by his mother, always a bit of a back-seat chef. He tried to ignore the rose-tinted nostalgia for now in favor of dredging up the recipe as he remembered it, starting with a single cup of flour.

He was very nearly done with the batter, mulling over its thickness and adding just a bit more milk, when someone shuffled in. He stopped right behind him, and though Soda couldn’t see him he could piece together what he was doing fairly easily by the click of the kettle switch. 

     “We’re out of coffee by the way”

Liam turned.

     “We are?”

     “Yep. Just drank the last of it.”

He hummed, a bit flat, and stepped to his side. Liam only glanced at the slight mess on the counter before rummaging through the cabinet over his head.

     “Do you know if we still have that one tea?”

     “The black one? Top shelf I think” he paused his mixing, “I thought you didn’t like that kind?”

     “Eh,” Liam shrugged, nabbing a packet from the half-full box, “it’s not the best but it’s alright.”

Soda shrugged a bit,

     “Suit yourself.”

He’d never really understood the appeal of tea, to him it always seemed bland. From time to time they’d bicker about it inbetween grocery store aisles, fights he’d always lose the moment he plucked a container of coffee from the shelf. For now though he left the matter for another day, instead plucking the half-stick of butter from the fridge, yet another thing they were low on, and began his search for a pan. The kettle clicked again. Liam watched him as he filled his mug.

     “What’re you making anyway?” he yawned around his words, “Pancakes?”

    “Yeah,” Soda replied, poking through the cabinet beneath the cutlery drawer, “If I can find the stupid frying pan—”

Something tapped him between the shoulder blades. Pulling back, he found Liam holding out the old black pan, taken from its place between the sink and the other drying dishes.

“Oh. thanks.”

Liam hummed, sipping his drink and watching Soda step up to the stove.

    “I didn’t know we had pancake mix” he said once the front-right burner had been clicked on. Soda dropped a thin pad of butter into the center.

    “We don’t. I made it from scratch.”

    “You know how to do that?”

    “Kinda. Pass me a spoon? A big one.”

Liam pulled a serving spoon from the drawer, stepping to his side before passing it. Soda swirled the butter around in the pan.

    “‘Kinda’?”

    “It’s been a while.”

They watched the butter sizzle, foam, and fill the room with savory scents before Soda dropped the first spoonful of batter in.

Amelia joined them partway through the frying process, still very much fighting off sleep. At the lack of coffee, she simply opted for a glass of milk, not wanting to bother with the kettle. She leaned a bit on Liam as they watched him cook.

“You can go back to bed for a bit if you want,” Liam offered after her third yawn, “we’ll leave some for you.”

“‘S alright. I don’t think I’d be able to go back to sleep anyway.”

“Doubt it,” Soda said, checking the golden underside of the pancake, “you don’t even sound awake yet. Your gonna fall asleep standing up—” he flipped it. It only half landed in the pan right, the rest flopped along the side, marring its shape. “Damn it.”

“Deserved”

“That one’s yours”

[carouselofrats]

All for the Best (No It Isn’t)

“Oh, how I pity you, Roman.” He chuckled, turning his back to the Side and feeling his own eyes begin to water as he lost control. The Lord of the Lies was only so good. It felt physically painful to walk out the door as he heard Roman break out into sobs behind him.

You’ll never get to hold him in your arms.

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

Ao3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/32061952

Pairing: Roceit

Word Count: 2017

CW: Janus has a panic attack but he gets comforted don’t worry :)

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

Janus wasn’t sure exactly when he’d fallen in love with Roman. All he knew was that at some point, over all of the theatre scenarios and courtroom flirting, he’d fallen head over heels in love with the wonderfully dramatic prince. It was terrifying, to suddenly care so much for another. Because of this, it was both a comforting and depressing fact that he could never act on his feelings. For one, Virgil would kill him. He was already suspicious and hateful enough of the snake, he didn’t even want to consider the backlash that would come if he tried to romance Virgil’s best friend. I used to be his best friend .

There were times, of course, where he did wish for more. When the light of the imagination’s stage caught Roman’s face at the perfect angle while they traded lines; When they accidentally brushed hands or shoulders while talking over one of Roman’s scripts and he had to force himself not to linger; When Roman had had a nightmare and chosen to come to his room for comfort.

He finally reached the other facet’s door and knocked politely, as he’d become delightfully accustomed to doing over the past few months. There was a shuffling on the other side before a visibly nervous Roman opened the door.

“Hey Jan! Come on in, sit wherever you’d like!” Okay, now he was nervous. Something was off, very off.

Janus sat down on the corner of Roman’s bed, glancing around the familiar brightness of his love’s friend’s room. Roman gently sat next to him, causing the deceitful Side’s gaze to snap to him. Roman sighed.

“I asked you here today to tell you something important.” Janus’ heart clenched. Please don’t be what I hope think it is.

“I’ve been wanting to tell you for a while. We’ve had a rocky friendship, what with all of the stuff Thomas’s gone through, but I'm so happy that we got to the point we’re at now. You’ve become so incredibly important to me, Jan. It’s incredible how passionate you are about your role--and that’s coming from the literal embodiment of passion--and how much you care, even though you don’t like everybody to know it.” Roman chuckled a bit, Janus giving an exhale of amusement as well as the fear in his heart grew.

“I guess what im trying to say…” Please, god, yes no. “...is that I’m in love with you, Janus.” No. No, no, no.

Roman’s nervous yet earnest gaze travelled up from his lap, where it had drifted earlier, to Janus, searching for his reaction. Janus had short-circuited, his entire body frozen.

No no no, this wasn’t supposed to happen. How could he possibly love you? You can’t say you feel the same, no matter how much you want to, you know that. You’ve already hurt him before, if you tell him it’ll happen again and then you’ll really lose him and he’ll never look at you with his beautiful eyes or smile at you with his beautiful smile ever again. He can’t really love you. Just let him lose his infatuation. It can’t be real love. It might hurt him now but it will be way better than what you would inevitably end up doing to him.

No one could ever love you.

Janus forced his face into a smirk and his voice into something stable. He allowed the mask of the villain to slip over his face. You’ve always been the villain.

“Oh, Roman. You really have fallen, haven’t you?” he crooned. Hurt confusion slowly seeped into Romans face. He desperately pushed down the flash of guilt he felt.

“What are you talking about, Jan?” Roman spoke, his voice quiet and hurt.

“Did you really think that I could ever love you?” Janus hurt laughed. Roman’s eyes began to water, tears slowly falling down his cheeks. Janus stood up, forcing his hand not to shake as he patted Roman’s shoulder for the last time.

“Oh, how I pity you, Roman.” He chuckled, turning his back to the Side and feeling his own eyes begin to water as he lost control. The Lord of the Lies was only so good. It felt physically painful to walk out the door as he heard Roman break out into sobs behind him. You’ll never get to hold him in your arms.

As soon as Roman’s door was safely shut behind him, Janus sank out to his room, collapsing on the bed as sobs overtook him. It’s better this way, he tried to tell himself, he can get over it quicker and you’ll save him the heartbreak. It’s fine. Everything is fine. His heart, which felt like it was physically burning, said otherwise. Janus could barely bring himself to move, weakly shoving his shoes off and wrapping himself in his blankets as he sat there, sobbing. At some point his hat had fallen off. He didn’t care. He lost track of time, trying to tell himself that it was all for the best, you’ll get over it, though he knew he wouldn’t.

Suddenly, Janus heard his door burst open. He was filled with the urge to make himself presentable or even look up but he only succeeded in reducing his sobbing into a gasping panic.

“Why the fuck would you do that to Roman you- Dec- Janus? What the-” the intruder spoke. Janus’ panic only increased and he couldn’t breathe he couldn’t breathe help

Of course, it had to be Virgil. Now he knows and he’s seen you vulnerable. You fuck everything up, don’t you? Can’t go one day without hurting somebody else you stupid, ugly snake.

“Oh shit.” He felt the bed dip.

“Can I touch you?” Janus breathed rapidly, flinching when he felt a hand on his shoulder.

“Okay, okay, just calm down, Jay. Breathe in for four.” Janus tried, gasping, only succeeding after multiple attempts.

“You’re doing great. Now hold your breath for seven.” He did the same again.

“Okay, now out for eight.”

The process repeated until Janus could breathe somewhat normally again. He finally lifted his head up from his knees, feeling pitiful, to look at Virgil. After a few seconds of silence, the anxious trait spoke.

“What- What happened?” Silence.

“Did… did you reject Roman even though you like him back, Janus?”

His sniffling quickly turned to sobbing again as he threw himself into Virgil’s arms, the Side swiftly hugging him back once he got over the shock. Janus’ other arms came out too, gripping the other like a lifeline.

“I had to- he doesn’t- he doesn’t want me. I’ll h-hurt him. Just like in the courtroom. O-or when I c-called him the evil twin. Like- like I did with you,” his voice shrank to a whisper.

“It- it just hurts so bad. Make it go away, make it go away.” He gripped Virgil’s hoodie tightly, sobbing harshly once again. He felt Virgil’s chest rumbling but he heard no words. Suddenly, Virgil started to get up, detaching Janus’ hands from his hoodie. He curled back in on himself.

He’s probably gone to tell the others how pathetic you are.

A few minutes passed, Janus only calming himself slightly. He heard a few sets of footsteps enter his doorway. They’ve come to laugh at you. The bed abruptly dipped beside him and a new set of arms wrapped around him. He opened his eyes and saw a white and gold sleeve. He froze.

“Roman?” He spoke in a small voice.

“Shh, it’s okay, darling. You’re ok.” Roman spoke, rubbing circles into Janus’ back. His voice was thick with emotion, he’d obviously been crying and Janus’ heart crushed with guilt at the notion, more tears and gasps leaving him. He began rambling apologies, all six of his arms wrapping around Roman like they had Virgil.

“I’m so sorry- I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” Roman shushed the snake as he spoke, holding him tighter. “I never thought you’d feel the same way so I just b-bottled it up and then when you t-told me I didn’t know what to- to do and I’m so sorry”

Roman suddenly stilled. “So you really do? Love me back?”

Janus had run out of tears, left occasionally gasping for air. He leaned back and sat up, looking Roman in the eye and nodding before sheepishly looking away. Roman put his hands on Janus’ shoulders, causing the Side to stare back at him.

“Why did you lie about it, my love?” he spoke, his eyes full of earnest concern and love.

“I- you don’t want me. I-I’ll hurt you again. I always hurt them. And then they leave. I c-can’t-” but Virgil, who had been awkwardly watching the emotional exchange from the doorway, spoke up.

“We both hurt each other, Jay. It wasn’t all your fault.”

“Oh.” Janus leaned back against Roman as his thoughts swirled rapidly in his head. “Does this mean… that I can love you? I promise I’ll never try to hurt you and-”

Roman cut off Janus’ rambling with a kiss. Oh. Oh. Maybe Roman really did love him after all.

“Okay! Um, everything seems under control here so I’m gonna go,” Virgil hastily exited, closing the door behind him.

They pulled away from each other, both smiling. Janus wiped some of the leftover tears from his eyes, frowning at the wet marks on his gloves.

“I guess I’ve really ruined my reputation in front of you, huh?” Janus gave a light chuckle.

“Your big, tough reputation was ruined for me the moment you showed me your Scooby-Doo collection, you big nerd.” Roman teased affectionately.

“Like your Disney movie collection is any better!” Janus quipped back, Roman batting at his arm in retaliation.

“At least I have a variety to pick from!”

“At least my room isn’t a shrine to a billion dollar corporation.”

“My room only has 101 Disney posters! That’s not that many!”

“Maybe in your opinion.”

“Well, at least I don’t walk around in Hufflepuff-colored garb everyday!”

“I’m severely wounded, you take that back right now Roman Romano Sanders.”

“I refuse!”

“I can feel the dishonor of your insult burning me. I’m dying.”

“Stop being so dramatic!”

“I can see the light now.”

“Okay, fine! I'll take it back!”

“Nope, too late. I’m already in the afterlife. No, wait, I’m in Hell. It burns! It burns so much! But…”

“But what?”

“Nothing can ever burn me more than your insult! The shame! The shame…”

“Will you stop it if I finally agree to let you show me Scooby-Doo: Mystery Incorporated?”

“Suddenly I’m alive! They sent me back.”

“Mhm.”

“They said that all of you were just so lost without me. Especially you, my dear Braveheart.”

“Well, I can’t argue with that, can I?”

Roman pulled Janus in for another kiss, both of them sighing contentedly. In that moment, everything was perfect. Neither could wait for the many more perfect moments sure to come.

[lunar-lair]

I adore your tags on the post about my cousin asjdkskflg. perfection. and good on you for never doing what the comic showed!

When I was 19, I tried alcohol for the first time. it was basically sparkling fruit juice but I hated it. oh god I hated it so much and I didn’t get why adults loved this stuff??????? but my friends/classmates were always like ‘oh yummy, love me some flavored nail polish” so I kept quiet so no one would know something was wrong with me

turns out everyone I knew was severely exaggerating (trying to fit in). one guy said he dumped his beer in the bushes during a frat party. a girl I went camping with poured water into an empty vodka bottle so she could ‘participate’ without anyone mocking her. a classmate once showed me their trick for pretending to sip by covering the top of the bottle with their hand. I even remember being 22 and trying to claim ‘8 shots don’t affect me’ as if my worth as a human being was calculated by the number of empty glasses I collected

Drinking is a rite of passage for a lot of people. you’re mature if you drink and adults love it, so you can’t be a ‘real adult’ if you don’t drink. It’s less about liking the taste or enjoying yourself - people want to feel part of the ‘in group’ and they do this by othering the ‘out group.’ (in group- likes ‘manly’ drinks, never gets tipsy, takes shots by the handful, etc.) (out group- lightweight, doesn’t drink at all, likes fruity drinks, etc.)

I have severe ADHD and a family history of alcoholism so I have to be extremely careful. addiction is no joke and people don’t treat alcohol like the drug it is. Some families won’t inform their kids of a health history that increases risk factors (or might not even know) which makes underage drinking even more dangerous

…

TO CONCLUDE THIS ADVICE RANT TRIGGERED BY SUDDENLY REALIZING AT 3AM THAT I HAVE MINORS FOLLOWING ME and should probably try to set a good example;

enjoy being 16 and don’t adhere to the rite of passage cultural that makes you ‘look forward to being [insert legal drinking age].’ I know how isolating it can feel when everyone appears to be ‘growing up’ and doing adult things without you, but if nothing else I’ve learned that being the only sober person in a group full of fools is free comedy

*disclaimer for angry internet ppl; things are complex, perspective is subjective, and a single persons experiences cannot be accepted as the ‘one holy truth’*

Oh lmao. Ok ill answer this in blocks the same way you wrote it also hi!!!!! :DDD yet again this is funny?? I spent a good 10 mins commenting on evanescant signs earlier lmao. ok 1st block alright

It is so very funny you say that bc ive actually tried gin. Takes like shitty peppermint and blueberries. Same for red wine, tho i had permission that time (still tasted like shit); never beer tho!! Regardless tonic also tastes Bad, all of my experiences w it have been Bleh. Not to say i ever had more than a sip/severely watered down gulp

PPASNSPSJPD OK LISTEN TO ME. Ive actually tasted nail polish remover AND nail polish before (finger sucking habits r.i.p spaced out bc epic f) AND IT LITERALLY TASTES LIKE THAT AOSJSOSJ. Like the same shit as they put on switch cartridges dude!! Except, comparatively, the only ppl I Personally know who drink like. Period at all are full blown adults i just dont get them either

AND ITS LIKE 4 AM HERE TOO SO IM HANDLING THIS SO V V CLUMSILY RIP but yea!! I mean, peer pressure is lowkey nonexistent in my town; we are so so so so christian and apparently a ton of bad shit happens a lot? But it never reaches me sooo w/e lmao. Literally havent heard abt anyone i know drinking underaged enough for it to be like. Anything other than 'hehehe i sipped the gin in the fridge >:3' like my shit was which is straight up curiosity. Also i already know that lmao; havent been in a room with a bunch of 13 yr olds whove huffed sharpies before?

(Ok 1 how did u get italics in ask?? And 2 lmao dw too bad. Epic disclaimer ofc!! But im like. In this lil Bubble where i have like 180 followers but no one ever actual interacts w my shit its v funny)

[hermannsthumb]

Hermann preparing for date night with Newt by selecting where to eat solely by what he has a coupon for. Or, ya know, frugal connoisseur Hermann. <3 ksci

inspired by a convo re: the fact that ksci @k-sci-janitor likes to make fun of me for never letting a coupon go to waste even if it means walking like 2 miles in the cold to use it :/ like im gonna NOT get a free Baja blast. (there is one small little allusion to some M rated stuff towards the end in this)

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

It’s not a rare occurrence that Hermann will treat Newt to dinner when the mood of dining out strikes them, but the point is that he’s doing it in a way that’s supremely…shifty tonight. Well, maybe not shifty. Weird? For one thing, he didn’t tell Newt where they were going until they were already on the bus headed there, for another, it’s their sharing-a-lab-anniversary, which tradition dictates they evenly split a bill (even if the origins have more to do with both trying to show up the other and take advantage and order the most expensive shit on the menu). The weirdest thing is definitely that, when Hermann got up to pay the bill five minutes ago—a small, folded piece of paper clutched in his hand—he left his wallet laying next to his wine glass on the table.

Newt stirs his straw around in his cup of soda, clinking ice cubes against the sides, and squints at the wallet. Did Hermann bring cash to pay with? He could’ve stuck some in his pockets without Newt seeing, or his bank card, even, which would explain the forlorn wallet. Or maybe forgetting the wallet was totally an accident, and he’ll be back in a few seconds to pick it up and pay for real when he realizes. That’s probably it.

When Hermann comes back to their table, though, he doesn’t bother with his wallet—he takes his seat, picks up his wine glass, and tips it at Newt. “That was quite lovely, wasn’t it?”

Newt hums. “It was.”

“I quite liked the fish I got,” Hermann says.

“I loved my noodles,” Newt says. “We should try to copy the recipe back at the base.” He sets his straw delicately on the table. “How’d you pay without your wallet?”

“My wallet?” Hermann says. He makes a show of catching sight of the wallet, arches his eyebrows in mock surprise, and picks it up. Here we go. “Oh, goodness. Did I forget this? Well—it’s not as if I needed it…” He tucks it neatly into his inner jacket pocket.

“Hermann,” Newt says, rolling his eyes. “What’d you do, get a hundred-percent discount by reminding them we saved the world a few months ago?” Hermann shakes his head, and takes a long sip of his wine. “Did you write a check? Did you pretend we got food poisoning or something?” Hermann shakes his head again, and this time, his mouth begins to creep up into a smug smile. Newt remembers the piece of paper. “Dude. You got us a fucking Groupon. No wonder you were being so weird about what I was ordering!”

(“I think we ought to stick with the entrees labelled B, Newton,” Hermann had said, flipping a page forward in Newt’s menu. “They look—er—far better.”

“More expensive,” Newt had said.

“What’s it matter? I’m paying.” Hermann had pointed at the noodle dish Newt had ended up getting. “Look, I reckon you’d like that.”)

Hermann finally grins triumphantly. “I did—and saved us quite a decent from our ‘date night’ fund. Pity it didn’t extend to dessert, I suppose, but we could always find some ice cream at the commissary later.”

Newt can’t even pretend to be exasperated. The noodles rocked. And they would’ve rocked even more if he knew that Hermann was saving them a few bucks. “You’re such a weirdo,” Newt says, shaking his head, though he’s mirroring Hermann’s grin. “Is that why you picked this place?”

“Not entirely,” Hermann says. He takes a long, slow sip of his wine. “Mostly I picked it to make a point.”

“About?”

“About my being right.”

Newt sighs. Only Hermann would dredge up old arguments on Lab Anniversary Night. It wasn’t even an argument, really—all that happened was that Hermann asked Newt to hand him his glasses cleaning cloth from his parka, and it took Newt almost ten minutes because Hermann’s pockets were so jam-packed with a million little coupons for everything from granola bars (which they can get from the mess hall for free) to mouthwash (which Newt can snag from the commissary, also for free, whenever they need it) that he couldn’t find anything but. A majority of them were expired. Then Newt remarked on how Hermann was nuts, and Hermann remarked on how Newt didn’t understand the value of making smart financial decisions, and they went back and forth for a bit like that. This was a whole week ago, too. In terms of Newt and Hermann arguments, that’s more than ancient history. “Are we really talking about the fucking coupons now?” Newt says.

“Frugality pays off,” Hermann says, cryptically. “Now we really ought to head out. The forecast is calling for rain, and I don’t fancy getting caught in it.”

They get caught in the rain anyway. Newt invites himself over to Hermann’s bunk to dry off, because Hermann bought a space heater back when they were stationed in Russia, and it travelled with him here to aid through the long nights of overpowering A/C. Right now, it’s aiding Newt through stripping out of his wet clothes. When he’s down to just his boxers, he snags the quilt from Hermann’s bed, and waits for him to finish up in his little en suite bathroom to hopefully catch a hot shower. One of the unexpected side effects of the world not ending and most nonessential personnel leaving the ‘dome in doves is that they almost never run out of hot water anymore. Newt can take a shower at midnight and not freeze his ass off. It’s awesome, really.

Hermann emerges from the bathroom in a dorky little pair of pajamas, a dressing gown knotted at his waist. “Oh, Newton,” he sighs, and prods at Newt’s blanket cocoon with his cane, “not my grandmother’s quilt.”

“I’m dry!” Newt says. “Mostly!”

He gives up the quilt to Hermann and ducks into the bathroom to brush his teeth. He stuck a spare toothbrush in the medicine cabinet at some point, for when he was too sleepy and lazy after makeout sessions to go back to his bunk, and sure enough he finds it alongside a suspiciously generic-looking tube of toothpaste. It doesn’t even have a label. He doesn’t think much of it until he starts to use it, which is when he immediately gags and begins to rinse his mouth out with hot water. “What the hell is this toothpaste?” he chokes out. “It tastes—awful.”

“Ah,” Hermann says. He ducks his head into the bathroom, looking a bit sheepish. “Well. I found a coupon for that brand, and I know it’s not very, er, pleasant, but—I saved forty percent, Newton.” Newt continues to rinse his mouth out, this time adding some mouthwash into the mix. “Oh, really, now you’re just being dramatic. It’s only toothpaste.”

“Dude,” Newt says. “I feel like I just rubbed, like, acid cement all over my gums.”

“Ah,” Hermann repeats, guiltily.

A bit later, Newt goes in to kiss Hermann goodnight as they settle into Hermann’s bed together, but pulls back with a sad little pout when Hermann merely flinches away from him. “Oh, Newton, I’m sorry,” Hermann says, quickly wrapping his arms around Newt and kissing his neck. It softens the blow somewhat. “It’s that bloody toothpaste. You still smell like it. You’re right, it’s rubbish.”

“Tell you what,” Newt says, grumpily. “I’ll buy you a brand new tube tomorrow. My treat.”

Newt mostly forgets about the coupon thing for a bit. The odd little item crops up in the lab that makes him roll his eyes fondly at Hermann, but nothing as major as the Groupon or toothpaste. Hermann’s preferred tea brand swapped out for something Newt’s never heard of in a flavor that Hermann clearly detests, if his face when he drinks it is anything to go by, for example, the chocolate digestives Hermann keeps in his desk replaced with plain ones, his new box of chalk all in a salmony shade of pink and weak enough to snap apart under his fingers if he presses down too hard on his chalkboard. When Newt asks about the changes, the answer’s always the same: Hermann had a coupon for them, or they were less expensive than his usual. Newt just wishes he could understand where this sudden bought of thriftiness came from. It’s not like it was back during the war, where they had to pinch pennies and save in every area they could if they wanted to supplement their nonexistent funding. They’re actually getting paychecks now, on behalf of the UN’s guilty conscience! They have free room and board! They even put a few neat bucks away from some (heavily-redacted) interviews they did back in late January.

What Newt’s getting at is Hermann doesn’t have to limit them ordering out sushi to only places with free delivery on date nights, or skimp on his pizza toppings (four-topping down to two) so they can use a better coupon, or buy any of those subpar teabags or digestives or toothpaste tubes. But he just…is.

The tipping point occurs on a Saturday night about a month after the Groupon incident.

“Nn. Hermann. Do that again.”

“Do—?"

“Yeah.” Newt groans, turning his head to the side. “Oh, shit.”

“Newton—” Hermann kisses his throat. “Newton, you’re—”

“Wait.” Newt pauses. “What is that?”

“Oh, er.” Hermann pulls his hand away. “You mean the—the—?”

“Yeah. It feels…weird.” He frowns. “That is not what we used last time.”

“Oh. No. It isn’t.” Hermann clears his throat. “Well, Newton—see—we were out, so I thought I’d—I’d buy a larger bottle, to last us longer, and I happened to find a coupon for this lovely—er—gallon-sized—”

“You’re kidding,” Newt says.

“Only I thought it was a very frugal purchase,” Hermann says. “We do tend to, er, burn through it rather quickly.”

Newt rolls away from him. “Dude. We need to have a talk.”

Some brief amount of time later, they sit together on the end of Hermann’s bed, clad in their pajama bottoms and, in Hermann’s case, one of Newt’s sweatshirts. Newt waits until Hermann meets his eyes blushingly before he proceeds. “What is up with you lately?” he says. “You’ve been acting so—weird. Weirder than usual,” he amends. “Since when have you cared about saving a couple bucks on random shit like pizza?”

Hermann fidgets, and sighs, and finally reaches to pull open the drawer of his nightstand. He retrieves a piece of paper folded into quadrants, and for a wild moment Newt thinks it might be another Groupon. “Oh, I wanted it to be a surprise,” Hermann says. “I was going to wait until it was all finalized—but it’s close enough now, so I suppose there’s no harm in it.” He thrusts the paper out at Newt, and Newt—still wondering if it’s not another Groupon—unfolds it with surprise to find what looks like a flight itinerary. Two tickets for Hong Kong to Boston, with a short layover; then two more tickets a week after they land for a short trip from Boston to some town in Maine Newt recognizes as being seaside. They’re made out to Hermann Gottlieb and Newton Geiszler and purchased a little over a week ago.

“You kept telling me you wanted me to meet your father,” Hermann says, and rubs the back of his neck awkwardly. “And—I thought it might be nice, to have an—er—vacation, for a few days. We’ve certainly earned one. And it’s not as if we have any truly pressing obligations at the moment that can’t be put on hold for a week or two. I was planning on booking us a little cottage up in Maine—or maybe just a hotel room, I hadn’t decided—but we don’t have to if you don’t—”

“And you’ve been saving up for it?” Newt interrupts.

“For a few months now,” Hermann says. “Since February, in fact.”

“And that’s why…?”

The tips of Hermann’s ears turn red. “Every penny helped,” he says.

Newt carefully re-folds the itinerary, sets it aside, and then kisses Hermann soundly. It would be safe to say that Hermann’s thoughtful, romantic moods tend to be on the spontaneous side, probably as spontaneous as they are in Newt, so when one strikes Hermann (and in such a perfectly Hermann way as this one) Newt doesn’t like to take it for granted. “Of course I wanna go on vacation with you,” Newt says. “You rock. Seriously.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” Hermann says, looking pleased.

[doublekrecs]

Can you do a teacher!!!Harry x student reader please. I think it’ll be hot

a/n: gonna try making this one a blurb. also no explicit smut but harry has a naughty mouth. as always enjoy! 

going into college was a new experience. your first year was mostly spent in the library avoiding parties and distractions. you were by no means quiet, having spent high school at every party after friday night football games. you decided this was your time to settle down a bit and take the first year to decide on what you really wanted to do. 

while you had decided computer engineering was your destined career path, you had picked a music appreciation class on whim to try something new. it wasn’t bad most of the time listening to older composers and analyzing the style differences, or brief essays on the deeper meanings of songs.

however the best part of class was professor styles. an absolutely gorgeous man with the softest looking hair you’d love to run your hands through and a  voice you could listen to for days.

the first week of school he kept it simple, the usual ‘get to know the teacher’ slideshow and syllabus days. he showed pictures of his family and of trips he’s taken with his friends. one that stuck out to you and most of your peers was the one of him at the beach. tattoos littered his toned, tan chest and arms, if you looked a little lower you could almost make out his not so little friend. and if you were being honest this was the go to image going through your head as you had your nightly de-stressing session.

as always you walked into class with your bag on your shoulder and water bottle in hand, the smell of his lemon scented candle flooding your senses. you took a seat close to the front to be able to get a decent view of the board, setting your stuff on the floor when you see a pair of brown boots enter your line of sight.

it was no other than professor styles himself holding a stack of papers in his hand, “miss y/l/n” he with that accent you loved so much. you look up to see him with a friendly smile on his face which you return, taking a glance up at his eyes. you’ve never had a chance to see how pretty his pale green eyes were.

he clears his throat, catching your obvious ogling but choosing not to say anything, “um well i wanted to ask if you would stay after class, your recent paper on..”

you had completely zoned out and you truly did feel bad but you were having a hard time concentrating when his rose colored lips were moving so nicely in front of you, so close yet so far. you wondered how nice they would feel wrapped around-

“y/n” his voice snapped you out of your reverie.

“hm im sorry professor, could you say it again”

“would ya mind stayin after class a little to discuss your paper”, he said a coy smirk appearing on his face.

“oh of course”

he nods before turning around to make his way back to the front of the class. when had so many people shown up?

the hour and a half passed by easily. jotting down whatever notes you could when you weren’t picturing your professor on top of you, sweat making a stray curl stick to his forehead. 

“well thats it for today”, he said as he went to pull out the chair at his desk. “have a good weekend and make sure to start plannin for your essays when we get back. y/l/n come see me please”

you swear your hearts about to burst out of your chest at the thought of spending just a little time alone with him. you walk down the stairs as you watch him get comfortable. legs spread behind the desk, just so inviting for you to sit in.

“you wanted to talk about my essay professor styles?” you ask as you play with the little keychain on your bag

“i did, it’was actually quite good. but somethin always has you distracted durin class and i think i jus found out what it is,” he said face serious almost angry looking

shit. you thought, he was onto you and you were gonna get expelled for inappropriate behavior towards you teacher. 

or so you thought until he kept speaking. 

the same smirk from earlier reappearing on his face. “you have a thing for me? isn’t that right. you walk into class and spend the time day dreaming about me making you suck my cock under the desk.” 

you stood there not moving a muscle. your brain must be short circuiting because he did not just say that.

“or maybe ya want me to bend you over it. maybe throw all my papers on the floor and have ya spread out for me makin a mess all on for me. you’d like that wouldn’t you petal”

you let out a whine at his words. thighs clenching at the thought of all your fantasies coming true. you swore you could feel your arousal dripping down the insides of your thighs. 

he got up from desk, taking his time to make the few steps over to where you were standing. looking down at your lips then back up into your eyes he continued.

“now be good for me and let me make these come true hm petal?”

and boy did he surpass all your expectations. 

[kareofbears]

plainly in truth, chapter 1/5

“Without you around, it's sorta like stuff is just kinda...bleh."

—

Or: hiding, confiding, and misguiding.

read on ao3 or below the cut :)

The sweat on the back of Ryuji’s neck is thick as he climbs the stairs to his apartment after a lengthy run.

It’s hot for spring, mild for summer, and now that it’s late June, it’s finally starting to teeter into real heat. He escalated slowly, gripping the guard rail like an old man to make sure his legs don’t give out, in no rush to head back to an empty apartment. His mom’s been doing back to back shifts, businesses booming like it does during this time of the year.

Normally, that would make him miserable. Nothing worse than hopping back from a day of fun shit only to come back to an empty living space with laundry piled to the nines and the TV left running. He doesn’t blame his mom because he’s not an asshole, but he never dealt well with being alone. But nowadays, he’s actually starting to like it. Crave it. Maybe a little too much.

It’s easier to deal with being alone than getting that sinking feeling he gets whenever he talks to his friends.

Shoving his hand in his basketball shorts, he pulls out his keys when something makes him pause. The plastic plant beside the entrance had been moved. Ryuji squints. Quietly, he grabs the knob and turns. It’s unlocked.

“Hey.”

Ryuji lets out a frustrated sigh, tension leaving his shoulders as he kicks the door closed. “Fucking hell. How’d you get in here?”

Seeing Ann sit primly with her legs crossed in a dining table that’s barely big enough to put two plates down evokes a feeling of nostalgia in him. She holds a key between her fingers idly. “Spare key hasn’t changed since we were thirteen.”

He walks to the fridge, pulls out a carton of milk and drinks it straight, ignoring her grimace. Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, he offers it to her.

“Hard pass.”

“Suit yourself,” he shrugs, putting it back in the fridge. “I’m gonna shower. I think we might have some chips in the cupboards if you want some. Might be stale though.”

When Ann speaks again, her tone is flat. “You haven’t been hanging out with us. Or even talking to us.”

He tries not to let the annoyance show in his face too much. “Yeah, well, what part of ‘I need some alone time’ was confusing to you?”

Wood creaks, and he can feel her presence right behind him. “Cut the crap, Sakamoto. Something happened, I know it did. It’s not like you for your big mouth to be shut like this.”

Shaking his head, he strides to his room, praying that Ann will take the hint.

She doesn’t. “Okay, so I’ll just keep talking until something happens.” She leans against his door frame as he rummages for a change of clothes, listing off with her fingers. “It’s summer vacation, so it’s not a school thing. Phantom Thief stuff has been done for a while, so it’s not that either. I saw your mom last week, and she’s doing great. Congratulate her on the promotion for me, by the way. And the only other thing in your life that’s important is—” he hears her pause suddenly. “Are you and Akira doing okay?”

The sudden sharpness in her voice is enough to make his irritation ebb away for a second. “We’re fine,” he answers, pulling a probably clean shirt from the bottom of his drawer. He knows just how much she’s invested in their relationship. She’s pretty much a third member given how desperate she is to make them work. “I would’ve told you if we weren’t.”

“Thank god,” she breathes. “So what’s going on?”

“Nothing,” he rolls his eyes. “A big fat load of nothing with nothing sprinkled on top. You want me to say it again?”

“If it’s nothing, then why aren’t you over the moon that Akira’s finally visiting tomorrow?”

His stomach does a weird flop inside of him. He can’t tell if it’s a good flop or a bad one. “I’m over the moon,” he defends. “I’m crazy excited.”

“Then show it!”

“Okay! Damn, sorry I wasn’t happy enough for you.” Giving up on finding clean shorts, he picks one up from the floor and hopes it isn’t too gross. “I’m headed to the shower.” He rounds on her, giving her a glare. “And do not tell Akira that anything’s going on with me, ‘cause there isn’t anything going on. You’re just gonna make him worry for no reason and he’s gonna be all—” he frowns, overexaggerated. “—About this, so cool it.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. He won’t hear about it from me.” Ann gives him a long stare, and he refuses to look away. “You sure you’re okay?” she asks, softer this time.

“Never been better. Now scram.”

“Good. See you tomorrow, and don’t be late!” she calls as she marches through his apartment, foot out the door. “Noon! Leblanc!”

“I got it!” he yells back.

When the lock clicks back into place, Ryuji leans his back against the wall, letting his eyes slide shut. Is he that obvious that Ann would notice? He rubs his eyes with palms, frustrated. If Ann noticed, Akira’s definitely going to notice, and that isn’t allowed. He’ll just have to do better.

Going into the bathroom, flicking on the shower, he realizes he forgot his towel in his bedroom. Stupid Ann, distracting him.

Padding back to his room, he nabs it from the side of his bed, refusing to look at the letter collecting dust on his desk as he flicks the light off once more.

—

Akira came home to a face-full of streamers, two pots of curry, and six arms tackling him. Smiles and hugs were passed like a bottle of wine after a war has been won, and Akira shrugs it all off like he isn’t soaking up each and every exclamation of how much they miss him for a rainy day. Morgana gets his fair amount of head scratches, Akira gets enough noogies to warrant a concussion, and even Ryuji somehow manages to forget his problems for approximately three minutes.

It’s evening now, and while everyone had already left (not after slamming down two plates each and Yusuke brazenly asking for tupperware after the fact), Ryuji decided to linger.

“So,” he starts, sleeves rolled up as he washes the dishes while Akira dries. It might not look like it, but he doesn’t mind doing his chores; especially not with the way they both purposefully knock their knuckles against each other whenever they pass a plate between themselves.

“So,” Akira repeats. “I’m home. That’s cool, huh?” Even with eighteen layers of nonchalance layered on top of each other, there’s no hiding the lilt in his voice.

“Pretty damn cool,” he rinses a mug and hands it to him. Ryuji pauses as he watches Akira dry, lip quirked up. “I like seeing you like this.”

“Cleaning?”

“No, you bastard.” He reaches forward, unable to help himself as he pinches his cheek. “Smiley.”

Akira slaps his hand away. “I’m always happy,” he says, voice fond.

“I didn’t say happy, now did I? I said—” Ryuji wipes both hands on his jeans before pinching his cheek with both hands. “Smiley!”

He doesn’t fight back this time; instead, he lets Ryuji knead his face. “Your hands are wet,” he complains, slightly slurred.

“Suck it up.” His skin is mesmerizingly soft. Probably softer than even a girl’s. He would hold him like this all night if he’d let him. “This saves you from washing your face tonight, so you’re welcome.”

With one last tug, he reluctantly sets him free. Akira’s face is red and blotchy from the assault, but somehow he pulls it off because of course he does. “Thanks,” he deadpans.

“Don’t sweat it, dude. You know I got you,” he laughs, and for a second, he feels good. Light. Being with Akira does that to him, a pendant that wards off all evil. The pendant must’ve had some fine print in the contract though, because his stomach drops again when he remembers again. Ryuji turns around and starts scrubbing the pan harder than he needs to. Chill out, chill out, chill out.

Arms encircle his waist. “Sojiro’s gonna smite us if we don’t finish these before he opens tomorrow,” Ryuji says.

“I know.” A chin hooks around his shoulder blade, sliding in place. A perfect fit. “We’ll get to it.”

Ryuji leans back, far enough to smell the shampoo in his hair. He breathes in deep. It’s not what he’s used to, probably different brands in his hometown, but it still smells nice.

With the water still running, a group of businessmen’s laughter booming from just outside the cafe, Ryuji nearly says it. To take that weight off of his weakened knees and share some of the burden with someone who’s never complained about carrying some of his baggage. It would be embarrassing, humiliating, fucking mortifying, but it would be better than this, right?

He opens his mouth. “Missed you,” is what comes out instead.

“Missed you more, I think.” A beat passes, and then Akira continues, quietly: “You don’t know how good it feels to be back.”

That was all it took. The final piece, the last lock. The words he needed to convince him that this was the right thing to do. If he was on the fence of whether or not to tell Akira, this was the tug that took him over the edge. Because Akira came here for one reason: to have fun. To feel good again. To feel like Akira again. Is Ryuji really going to be the one to shit all over that? To fuck up his summer vacation with his problems again?

Yeah. Fuck that.

He wishes he can pull Akira impossibly closer. “Welcome home.”

It can wait until he leaves. After that, the world will just have to explode, taking him with it.

—

Ryuji’s in bed that night, tossing and turning, blanket tangled in his legs and head underneath his pillow, when he finally caves.

Smacking around for his phone, he pulls it to his face, squinting against the bright light.

SR: futaba

The response was immediate.

SF: what SR: that was fast. whatre you doing up SF: im always up. why are YOU up SR: just wanted to talk SF: ok

He waits a few moments to see if she’d continue the conversation. She doesn’t.

SR: hows school? SF: ?????? who cares, its three am SR: i care SF: ugh, go to sleep. we’re meeting tomorrow anyway SR: yeah but you dont talk about school during group meetings much SF: alright weirdo SF: schools cool. people mostly leave me alone, and i think akira must’ve tipped off kawakami cause she is wayyyy too nice to me even after bullying her in front of the class SR: what did you do lmfao SF: she said that whoever could recite pi to ten decimal points can get a bonus ten percent in the final SF: and i kept going until the bell rang SR: damn! SF: its mostly okay though. better than i thought it’d be for sure SR: and how about actual school stuff SR: like classes. Math, science, english, all that shit. SF: sheesh, easiest part no doubt. could do all that stuff in my sleep SR: really? even though youre a year behind? SF: uh yeah? i could be eight years behind and still dunk on these clowns with one hand tied behind my back and watching a live stream

Ah, right. Futaba’s a literal genius. As in ‘Make A Documentary Of Her In Twenty Years In A Movie He’d Never Watch But Makoto Would Love’ kind of genius. He forgot.

SR: nice SR: thanks, im gonna sleep now SF: kk see you SF: (¯﹃¯)

—

“Okay, this is getting a little ridiculous,” Ryuji says when he opens the door to his apartment.

Ann is sitting in his dining chair once again, this time donned in hot pink shades and a comically big sun hat. He tries not to let annoyance and panic flare inside him. He loves her, because of course he does, but he was banking on stocking up some energy and alone time before they hit the road. Maybe even shed a couple of frustrated tears, who knows? As long as he’s alone, it’s fair game.

“Hey, don’t give me any of that,” Ann says. “You and packing your luggage is like mayonnaise and my flawless complexion—it’s not good, buster. Remember Hawaii?”

He feels his skin heat up, and slams the door harder than he should. “How the hell was I supposed to know I’d get randomly checked? ‘Sides, I didn’t do anything illegal.”

“A backpack filled with condoms and a toothbrush might as well have been illegal.” Ann reaches into her pocket, whipping out a wrinkled piece of paper. “You can’t pull that kinda crap now, and if I know him as well as I do, I’m sure Akira’s already packing for that.” She laughs at her own joke and raises her hand enthusiastically. He can’t help but grin as he high fives her. Hey, even if his life is falling apart, at least he’s still getting some, right?

“So I’m here to help,” she continues, shaking the sting from her palms. “I finished packing a day early and everything, so I better get some thanks after this.” Before he can complain, she holds up a finger, expression stern. “I know you don’t need help. Yes, I’m still worried about you. Yes, I’m doing this because I’m worried about you. Let me do this stupid little thing, okay? It’ll make me feel better.”

His stomach churns, more intense than usual. “You’re still worried about me?” he asks, breath hitching. What? No. Did he fail at that too? Does she know? That must mean Akira knows, right? And if Akira knows, then—

“Whoa, hold on!” A hand grips his shoulders. “Deep breaths, Sakamoto. Don’t spiral on me now.” Gently, he’s led to a chair. He sits gratefully and waits for his heart rate to drop. The entire time, Ann stays quiet.

Eventually, when the room stops closing in on him, he sighs and leans back against his chair. “Sorry,” he says, feeling really stupid. Damn, what happened to him keeping this on the down low?

She slaps his knee. “Shut up, don’t apologize for that,” she scolds, and he almost smiles. It’s easy to forget how good Ann is at this sort of thing. For better or for worse, she’s had plenty of practice while talking to Shiho. The grip on his knee tightens. “Ryuji…”

He shakes his head. “No.”

And, for better or for worse, she absolutely does not let things go.

“Look, buddy.” The grip is starting to hurt, and it means business if her red acrylics are anything to go by. “I just saw you have a teensy little panic attack two damn minutes ago, and you’re expecting me to just leave you to it? Are you a clown? Are you a clown in a circus, Sakamoto? Is that what you are?”

“I just don’t want to fucking talk about it.” He shoves her hand off his knee, and before he knows it, his voice is raised. “Christ, can’t you just leave me alone? All you do is get up in my business when I clearly didn’t ask you to. Just cause we did this whole Phantom Thief crap together doesn’t mean it gives you the right to everything going on in my life.”

He loathes the ringing in his ears from his own voice. He hates it when he yells in the apartment, but hates the silence that follows more. Too much like his dad, too much like his exhausted mom.

Ann is staring up at him, hard and unwavering. “You’re such a piece of shit sometimes.”

“Huh?”

“If you want me off your tail, you’re gonna have to work harder than that.” She gets on her feet, glaring at him. “‘Piss me off and make me leave in tears’ was your tactic, right? Boring. Overdone. Try again.”

The way she’s standing, shoulders pushed back and chin jutted out like she’s ready for a shoot in some kind of army magazine, means she’s dead serious.

“Ann, just get the fuck out of my house. You’re really starting to get on my nerves.”

“Ooo, classic 'angry and make me storm off’, right? Better, but not good enough.”

“What the hell are you even saying?”

“I’m saying that you could say whatever pops into your bleached head—” she flicks his forehead, viciously sharp nails digging into his skin. “And I wouldn’t go anywhere. You could call me names, or threaten me, or try to hurt me, but I am not going anywhere.”

Her eyes are bright blue, but he can still feel the heat of it like Carmen was inches in front of him. His throat quivers when he swallows. She’s really not going to give in.

“My knee’s been real bad lately,” he relents, making a fist and lightly knocking it against his thigh. “Normally it acts up during bad weather, but the sun hasn’t left in weeks and it still sucks. I didn’t wanna tell anyone, ‘cause I hate talking about…” he trails off, but she doesn’t need him to continue. They both know damn well who he’s referencing.

Ann’s face crumbles. “That’s horrible,” she says, absently rubbing the red mark on his forehead. “I’m sorry I was mean.”

He waves it off, the same way he does whenever his mom asks him if he’s getting enough sleep. “Don’t sweat it. I know how crazy you get.”

It’s a real testament to how worried she must’ve been when she didn't take the olive branch. “I know you probably don’t want to worry the group, but you should tell Akira.”

“Ann—” he starts wearily.

“You know I’m right about this. Now that the Metaverse is back and we’re going to be running around more, he can’t not know about this. Your boyfriend aside, he’s our leader. Something really nasty can happen if we’re not thinking straight.”

“...Sure.”

Ann gives him a weird look. “That was surprisingly easy. I thought you’d complain more.”

She’s getting way too sharp. “What, you wanted me to be a dick about it?”

“I guess not.” Leaning against his kitchen counter, she chews her lip like it’s bubble gum. “Can I do anything to help?”

“Yeah.” Ryuji stands to stretch, ready for this conversation to be over. “You can keep this between us—”

“—Except for Akira,” they say in unison, Ryuji exasperated and Ann insistent.

“Fine. I’ll back off if you think you have it under control.”

“Hallelujah, she’s finally giving me space.”

“But,” her gaze is harder than steel. “Never, ever keep secrets from me again, got it?”

Ryuji rolls his eyes. “Gotcha. Can we get started now? I’m over talking about my horrible past so that we can finally have a straight-out-of-an-anime summer vacation.”

Her eyes brighten up. “Yes! Okay, I made this huge list and I know for a fact we’re gonna have to go for a quick shopping trip—”

“Quick? So, like, three hours going by your standards?”

“Don’t interrupt me. We need to pack some swim trunks, toiletries, and I know you’re worried about your mom so we’ll go grocery shopping for her before we leave in the morning.” Feet tapping excitedly, “This is gonna be so fun. You start packing, I’ll go shopping. Rendezvous in an hour.”

Before he even gets a chance to put a word in, she’s already out the door.

—

Later that night, when everything is messily thrown into one oversized backpack and a rucksack and the fridge is chock full of groceries for his overworked mother, he gets a text.

TA: i know you said not to bring it up but i dont care TA: i searched it up and apparently cold and hot compresses can help with the pain on your knee TA: also getting shoes with really good support would help too. i modeled for some shoe brands, i can def get you some discounts!!! TA: like, i know this is all base level stuff and you know this already, but i bet you we can ask sophia for more help. maybe she can access top secret doctor stuff for knee injuries?? :O

Ryuji stares at his phone for a long moment, before shoving it under his pillow.

Great. Add ‘guilt’ and ‘keeping up with a lie’ to the list of shit he has to worry about.

—

“A lake!” Yusuke cries, kneeling in front of the body of water like a man discovering a desert oasis. Gently, he cups the clean water and cradles it against his cheek. “You are nothing like the garbage-infested sewers in Tokyo. You are crystal clear. You are divine. You are salvation. You are—”

“Akira, Inari’s being a weirdo again,” Futaba points an accusing finger at Yusuke, who’s shirt is slowly absorbing more and more of the water. “At this rate, he’s gonna have to change.”

Makoto grunts as she lugs out the grill singlehandedly, a loud clang ringing out when she nonchalantly sets down a family-sized piece of machinery. “Alright, here it is.” She catches the look of awe that Ryuji’s giving her. “Does it still shock you that I can probably bench press you twice over?”

“I’m just trying to figure out where you’re hiding all that muscle, prez,” he snorts, and it’s the truth. Her and Akira must be the same breed, considering they’re both way too lithe to be this strong. He’s seen the way they throw a punch in the Metaverse—they could probably disintegrate a dude in real life if they really wanted to. Like yeah they workout, but not that much. Maybe they’re dieting too? He’s tried dieting, but ramen is just way too good, even at the expense of muscles.

“Ryuji, when you’re done spacing out, can you grab the ingredients?” Akira calls out.

“Ugh, cut the mind reading dude, it scares the hell out of me.”

He shoots him a signature Kurusu Akira smile; small yet disarming all the same, and it never fails to get Ryuji’s heart to do weird flips. “It’s not mind reading once you realize that I’m just obsessed with you.”

Instead of answering, Ryuji grumbles as he stalks off into the RV. Damn him and his genuine words and compliments.

He pulls out their luggage from underneath the table. Akira doesn’t need to say what ingredients he needs to grab—he’s helped out enough times during Leblanc’s afterhours to know the curry spices by heart. Ryuji might be a failure, but hey, he can do this no problem.

Grabbing bottles and shakers and balancing them on top of his arms like an overworked waiter, he glances left and feels his heart dropped. The envelope from his room—dust-free from rubbing against the rest of his luggage—is sticking out of his backpack. After a quick adjustment, he uses his free hand to shove it deep in his bag, hearing the paper crinkle in on itself.

It was a spur of the moment decision to bring it along with him, one that he’s still half-regretting. Why’d he do it? Maybe he was worried that he might enjoy this trip a little too much? Maybe he was some kind of masochist that likes having his problems and anxiety follow him literally everywhere he goes? Maybe he was scared to hell and back that his mom would find it before he had a chance to tell her himself? Fuck if he knows.

Poking his head out of the door, he yells, “Heads up!”

Throwing a bottle of black pepper, Akira catches it without looking. “Thanks.”

“Don’t sweat it.”

“Too late, I already sweat a little bit.”

Ryuji squints. “It’s sweated. Right, Ann?”

“Don’t look at me. I went to America for modelling, not a spelling bee.”

“I won all my spelling bees in middle school,” Makoto says, chest puffed out in pride.

“Were you the only one who joined?”

“That’s not important.”

Akira’s phone beeps enthusiastically, and Sophia’s voice rings out. “Got it! According to the internet, ‘sweat’ and ‘sweated’ are both grammatically valid. Technically, both Ryuji and Ann are correct.”

“Can we all just shut up for a second about sweating, for the love of god,” Futaba fans her face weakly. “It’s already sooooo hot. I feel like my skin is melting. Yusuke, is my skin melting?”

He looks at her for a moment, peering closely. “Yes.”

“How about we go in for a quick dip in the lake?” Haru offers, and Ryuji suspects that she can feel the same energy that he’s feeling when the group gets like this. “We were all talking about how beautiful it was, and it would cool down Futaba-chan no problem.”

She leans down, swirling her hand in the water. “It’s a little chilly, but it’ll definitely take care of the heat.”

“Good idea!” Futaba jumps up and throws off her shoes, ready to march in. “This is gonna feel so good.”

“Socks!” Akira reminds her.

“I know that!”

Haru and Yusuke follow suit, eager to get away from the heat, Makoto going in to change to shorts. Ryuji guesses it’s probably not an easy feat to roll up leather pants. Probably makes it either to ride motorcycles, or whatever people with leather pants do.

He feels a poke in his side. “You hopping in with them?” Akira asks.

No. The answer is already at the tip of his tongue, ready to roll out. Given how cramped the RV is, keeping up the trademark Sakamoto energy while lugging more baggage than an airport employee is brutal. It’s barely been a day since they started the trip, and he’s not sure how much longer he can keep this up. Already his chest feels heavy with something, and whenever all the windows are rolled up, it gets weirdly hard to breathe. But if he says no, Akira would definitely know something was up.

“Uh—”

“Actually, I think we’ll take over the curry for you,” Ann cuts in.

Ryuji turns to her, startled and wide eyed.

“Why?” Akira asks, just as confused as he is. They both know how much Ann loves being in the middle of things, especially in group hangouts.

“Because you look like you could use a break. I know for a fact that you had to pack Yusuke’s stuff for him, or else the van would’ve had fifteen canvases and an easel, and you had to grocery shop for everyone, and talk Haru out of a guilty spiral because she wasn’t confident enough in her driving. And all this before—” Ann looks down at her wrist to peer at a non-existent watch. “Five o’clock.

He frowns. “Sure, but I’ve done twice as much during our prime. This,” he gestures at the pot. “Is a walk in the park. Thank you, though.”

Ann sighs, heavy and contemplative. “I didn’t want to say it out right, but since you’re being difficult…” She places a hand on his shoulder. “You should hang out with Futaba more. Being gone from her for that long has been rough, and yes, we took care of her while you weren’t there, but you’re different.” Her hand tightens. “You know, Wild Card and all that.”

“That’s not what that means, but I appreciate the effort,” Akira says. Despite his words, it’s clear that what she said bothered him. Eyes flickering to Futaba, enthusiastically kicking the water to see how far the droplets would go, he directs his gaze to Ryuji. “Is it okay if…?”

Ryuji rolls his eyes, pretending like relief isn’t crashing through his body. “Go.”

Akira kisses his cheek. “Thank you.” When he pulls away, he gives Ann a hesitant look.

She grimaces. “Thanks, but no. Go hangout with the gremlin.”

He gives her a salute and saunters off, rolling up his jeans to wade through the water, making sure to splash Futaba on the way there.

After a moment of silence, he sighs. “Fine, I’ll say it. Your acting classes are actually doing you some good.”

“Ha!” she points at him triumphantly. “And you said it’d be a waste of time!”

“I didn’t say that.” Ryuji slouches into a nearby camping chair, the one that Sojiro forced them to lug along, hoping that some of his fatigue would seep away. “We both know that Futaba’s never been better, so what’s up? Why’d you throw out Akira like that?”

“It’s not for me, stupid,” she scoffs, but he can’t help but feel the weight in his chest get even heavier. He sinks even deeper into his chair. “The water was cold, right? That would make your knee even worse.”

“Yeah,” he blinks, having already forgotten the whole fucked-up knee story. “Thanks.”

“I won’t chew you out for not telling Akira, even though I should. But like I said,” she ruffles his hair. “I got your back. I know it must be hard, but you’re still acting all normal. We’re lucky that it’s only affecting you in the real world, too.” She had come up with that one herself, and thank god she did, cause he wouldn’t have known what to say if she had confronted him on how he could easily do flips and sprints in the Metaverse. “That just takes a lot of guts, and even though I know for a fact this would make you feel so much better once you tell him, I trust that you know what you need better than me.”

“Quit trying to look all cool,” he says, and prays to fucking god that the red on his face comes off as embarrassed gratitude rather than earth-shattering guilt. “And aren’t you supposed to be cooking, curry master?”

“Hey, he asked you to do it, not me. I’ll help you get the ingredients, but no way I’m doing the whole cooking shebang.”

“Ugh, fine,” he says, as if he doesn’t secretly love the idea of getting to cook for Akira this time instead of the other way around. Pushing himself up, Ann reaches out to help him. “You don’t gotta baby me, Takamaki.”

“I’ll baby you for as long as I need to, and then eventually Akira will be the one babying you. We come in shifts.”

“I hope you’re unionized.”

Makoto pokes her head out of the RV, wearing a showercap. “Did someone say unionized?”

“What the hell?” Ryuji staggers back in shock. Crap. “How long have you been there?”

“And why are you wearing that?” Ann gasps.

“Not long, and I don’t want my hair getting wet in case I fall in. We have no idea what’s been in here.”

“Were you going to fall in a bathtub?”

“Did you want me to push you in?”

“No, ma’am.”

—

There wasn’t a problem initially. Well, not one in Palaces, anyway. Wait, they’re called Jails now, which is really confusing. Ryuji’s just gonna have to avoid using those words so he doesn’t make himself look like an idiot.

Back in Shibuya, it had been...fine. Attacks landed, punches were dodged, Batons passed like his life depended on it (and it did). Like clockwork, instinct came to him and the weird nostalgic normalcy of fighting Shadows made it bearable.

Ryuji was off his game, and he could tell.

But he was barely off his game. If anything, he still had a foot on his game. Maybe even an entire leg on the game if he was being generous. He was still enough on the game that even Akira doesn’t notice.

But the weird part was, he doesn’t mind the fact that he’s off his game. In an even weirder way, he’s never been more on his game in his entire life.

“There!” Futaba’s voice crackles through the comms. “Uncle is open wide!”

“Her name is Ante, Oracle,” Makoto responds, brass knuckles jammed into the throat of some poor Shadow. “It’s open, but it’s vicious.”

Ryuji calls for Kidd just as she pulls away, wiping out the rest of the weaker ones with ease. “This thing’s like a goddamn mousetrap.” Ante’s serpent body slithering on the cool tiles so fluidly that it gives him the creeps. Her tail has tiny spikes etched into it, like mini knives hot glued onto a tetherball. The minute any of them even come close, she strikes outwards. “How vicious is vicious?”

“Depends on how fast you are.”

Akira’s head jerks up, and when their eyes meet, cracks a smile. “Fast, you say?”

Ryuji grins wider than he has in days. Joker relying on him? How can someone not feel a little giddy at that? “Say no more, leader.”

He stretches quickly, and feels eyes piercing the back of his head. Ann, probably. Shrugging it off, he sprints low towards Ante. As long as Ann doesn’t say a word, there won’t be a problem.

She’s taken hits from where Akira’s been concentrating on her. A mixture of bullet holes in its scales mixed in with cross slashes from where his bless attacks hit had left her delirious and pissed off. When he’s close, she bares her fangs and strikes, only for him to skid on the smooth tiles, rugged hands touching his mask.

“Come on out, Captain!”

His blond hair ruffled from Kidd’s attack, a crack of lightning came down from his Persona’s mangled hand, and a split second later her tail had been sliced clean through. And another crack comes, her neck landing on the tiles with a muffled thud. An attack that should’ve just been enough to incapacitate Ante had instead completely decapitated her.

A beat of silence passed as everyone processed what had happened. Ryuji’s mouth drops open, but he can’t muster any surprise.

He doesn’t know how, or why, but for some reason his attacks have been at least five times as strong as they had been back before the Metaverse was still intact. Moves that he didn’t even know are on the tip of his tongue, as if he had practiced them all his life. Normally this would only happen after rigorous training for months, adding up in tiny increments.

Now it happens every day.

“Well, looks like someone woke up on the right side of the gym today,” Futaba laughs awkwardly.

“What on earth was that, Skull?” Haru asks, eyes wide. “I had never seen you do something like that.”

Morgana’s tail swished. “She makes a good point. When’d you learn that one?”

“I don’t know.” He calls back Captain Kidd, eyeing the drop that Ante had left behind, but doesn’t move forward to snatch it up. “But whatever the reason is, it’s awesome as hell. I mean, did you see that? Sliced that thing open like a stuffed bear.”

“Let’s not bring stuffed animals into this, please,” Makoto frowns.

Akira’s giving him a look again, and it leaves Ryuji unsettled. “What is it, dude? I got something on my face?”

“No,” he steps closer, and his voice drops. “Are you alright?”

“Am I alright? I’ve never been better, man.” He flashes him a grin, hoping that it’s bright enough to distract Akira’s ever-searching eyes. “Come on, let’s get moving. Natsume’s heart isn’t gonna change itself.”

After one last glance, he nods, and Ryuji can see the minute Calculating Joker comes back. “You heard him. Let’s get moving, everyone.”

They all follow him up the stairs, eager to get moving past the eternally bleary and uncreatively written setting of Natsume’s Jail.

“Psst!” Ryuji hisses at Ann, who turns to him with a question in her eyes. “Panther! Get your ass over here!”

“What?” she whispers back.

He rubs the back of his neck. “I fucked up my knee when I rushed her, and I still haven’t told Joker, so do you mind…?”

An expected look of disapproval emerges from her expression, and Ryuji hurries to beat her to the punch. “I know, I know! But I can’t tell him in the middle of all this, now can I?”

“Fine,” she grumbles before calling Carmen. “I’ll cover you for now, but only ‘cause I’m a good friend and I’m super cute.”

“Yeah, the cutest, prettiest, whatever.” He glances over to Akira, swooping down to grab Ante’s drops before heading up. “Quick, before he looks back.”

Diarama washes over him, and even though relief floods through his body, he can feel a bead of sweat running down his temple. He’s not sure if it’s from her inherent heat or from the stress of lying to her again.

“Better?” Ann asks.

“Way better. Thanks.” He catches Sophia looking at them curiously. “The kid’s watching us. You better move ahead before she starts analyzing our personality types or something.”

Her eyes light up. “You think she’d do it if I asked? I really wanna know.”

“Just go!”

Ann hurries to catch up to Sophia, and while she’s distracted, Ryuji gently rolls up sleeves—he had gotten nicked by Ante as he slid. Normally that wouldn’t have been a problem; he had gotten thrown through walls, been hit by mini hurricanes, been blown up by a boat, and walked away from all that still swinging.

Yet lately, any tiny, fractional, miniscule injury is enough to shoot unbearable pain throughout his entire body. It’s as if he was back in Kamoshida’s Palace, where every punch thrown at him had been life or death.

Glancing down at his forearm, he sighs. The cut was gone, but he can’t keep asking Ann to heal him in secret every time.

“Skull?”

Hurriedly pulling down his sleeve, he glances up to see Akira standing in front of him.

“Everyone’s waiting for you,” he says casually, as if those words don’t mean the entire goddamn world to Ryuji. “You ready to go?”

“Yeah,” he answers, shaking his head. “My bad. Let’s go.”

They clambered up the staircase, and Ryuji decides that all of that stuff—getting injured and having it hurt like hell—just isn’t too important.

That just means that he’ll be fine as long as he doesn't get hit, and he’s had plenty of experience dodging punches that were thrown at him before.

—

“Cheers!”

All of them raise their red plastic cups, clinking it against each other in a way that they see adults do all the time on TV. Apple juice and iced tea slosh as they gulp it down eagerly, excitement so prevalent that they can hardly taste the cheap, convenience store-esque quality of their drink.

“This isn’t too bad,” Makoto muses, leaning against the faux-leather seats of the RV. “Though it would probably taste better if it wasn’t room temperature.”

“Does it look like this place has a mini fridge?” Futaba says, legs swinging down from her top bunk. “That’s a good idea though. I should’ve bought mine from home. Can you imagine we’re halfway through a six hour road trip and you want iced coffee and boom! Two feet behind you is Futaba’s Ice Cold Cafe, one hundred yen per use.”

“I hope you’d be ready to sleep on it, because this place is cramped enough as is,” Akira slaps the wall a few times, the way a rancher would a sturdy horse. “We’re lucky with what we have.”

“I know that! Without this thing we never would have been able to conquer Natsume’s Jail.” She reaches down to muss Yusuke’s hair. “I’m sure Inari feels good about that.”

He smiles, hair sticking up in all directions. “Of course I feel satisfied. Though I understand his struggle, being able to stop a fellow artist into becoming a true monster is always something that will bring me joy. Justice will never stop feeling good.”

“Cheers to that!” Ann raises her drink. “And you know what? This wouldn’t have been possible had Ryuji not kicked some major ass in that Jail.”

The group whoops and hoots loudly, and Ryuji can’t help but scoff when Ann winks at him. “Aw guys, you’re making me blush. I’m fucking awesome, sure, but we’re all pretty amazing.”

Haru shakes her head. “She’s right, Ryuji-kun. WIthout you, defeating dragon Natsume would’ve been much more difficult.”

“Even I can admit that you’ve gotten much stronger, Skull.” Morgana leaps onto the table, licking up the bowl of apple juice that Haru had left him. It feels wrong to let an animal drink that, but he’d never say anything about it. “Have you been training?”

Ryuji shrugs. “Yeah, a little.”

“Ooo, look at Mr. Humble all of a sudden,” Futaba jeers.

“I’m always humble!”

Ann grimaces. “I don’t think so. Remember when you finally got Akira to go on a date with you—”

“How dare you. He was begging me to go on a date with him—”

“And you wouldn’t stop telling us about how you had nabbed the coolest guy in Tokyo—”

Ryuji nearly jumps over the booth to put a hand on her mouth. “Quit yammering, Takamaki, I’m begging you.” He feels something slimy on his hand, and pulls back quickly. “Ew, did you lick me?! That’s so effing gross.”

“You’re gross.”

He feels a hand on the small of his back, warm and familiar. “I don’t think you’re gross, Ryuji,” Akira says. “I think you’re very clean.”

A harmonic beep rings through the air. “Sorry to interrupt,” Sophia’s clear voice cuts in. “But Akira, you got an email.”

“Thanks Sophie.” He points to where his phone is perched on the windowsill, propped up so she can see them celebrate their victory. “Can you…?”

Ryuji wordlessly passes it to him as everyone breaks off into smaller conversations, chatter blending into each other until it sounds like the kind of white noise he would queue up when he’s desperate to get some studying done. Immediately, Akira begins scanning through his phone, gray eyes focused.

He props his head against his shoulder to read alongside him and makes a noise of interest. “You signed up for cram school?” he asks, surprised.

“I did,” he replies, thumbing through the details of his admission.

Ryuji stares at him. “But you’re so fucking smart. Why are you paying who knows what to learn shit you already know?”

“Because Tokyo U barely cracks a 30% admission rate, and chemistry is hell incarnate.” With one last few clicks, he sets his phone down with a wince. “Sure is expensive though. We might have to reform the heart of someone in the education committee.” When he continues to stare at him wordlessly, Akira turns to him. “Don’t worry, I’m still leeching off of the Thieves' money from last year, so it’s not too bad when you take into account my part-time back home.”

“No, that’s not—I’m just—” he shakes his head and forces himself to start over. “Since when did you decide on Tokyo University?”

It’s Akira's turn to look taken aback. “What do you mean? You’d never leave Tokyo, especially if it meant leaving your mom.”

“That’s not the point. The point is I’m making you choose between me and your hometown!” he exclaims, but he already knows in his heart what Akira’s choice is going to be. It’s stupidly obvious. For some reason, the longer this conversation goes on, the tighter his chest feels.

The feeling doubles when Akira’s eyes, always focused and always sharp, subdued at his words. “Are you really comparing yourself to that place? You know I’d choose you over anything.” He reaches forward and combs through Ryuji’s hair, hushed and gentle in a way that only Akira can manage. “I’m so excited to live life with you again.”

The white noise, so comfortable before, abruptly turns overwhelmingly loud—grating and unbearable and painful to be around. Ryuji stands abruptly, barely reacting to Futaba’s yelp when he backs into her.

“Hey! What gives?”

“I…” his eyes dart around, flinching when he accidentally makes eye contact with Akira, and again when he locks eyes with Ann.

The sudden silence from the group is somehow worse than the noise from before, and if the tightness in his chest gets any more painful, his lungs are gonna burst into a million pieces and he’s not gonna be able to pick it all up from the ground if everyone’s watching.

“Trash,” he blurts out.

“What?” Makoto blinks, glancing up from her map.

“This place is disgusting and it’s way too cluttered and it’s bad to leave such a big mess so I’m gonna—” Ryuji grabs the plastic bag filled with garbage, haphazardly tossing empty cans and plastic cups into it. “I’ll be back. Don’t wait up.”

Before they can question him, he’s already out of the RV, towing trash and leaving his friends behind him.

—

“What the fuck was that?!” Ryuji screams into the sky.

He was far enough from the trailer that he knew they couldn’t hear him even if they had strained their ears, and it was late enough into the night that even the tourists weren’t poking around to look at the shrines or the Great Masamune himself.

“Keep it a secret’, my ass! That was the second dumbest thing—no, the third dumbest thing you’ve ever done in your entire life. Do you know how high that threshold is, Sakamoto? High! Higher than you can see with your own two eyes! Higher than Yaldabaoth’s goddamn crane-sized spine!”

Swooping down, he grabs a fistful of pebbles and throws it as hard as he can. “You are so selfish! What happened to keeping ‘Kira happy, you effing asshole?” Relishing in how far it went, he takes another two more. “You are so annoying. You are—” he throws, the rocks landing with a little plink. “Insufferable. Stupid. Selfish. A fucking—” this time, he doesn’t even know where it lands. “Gah!”

Turning on his heel, he glares up at the statue and grits his teeth when he sees Masamune’s stoic expression. “Don’t give me that look—you’re dead. You ain’t got nothing to complain about. Everyone’s remembering you as the guy who saved Japan, or whatever. But guess what? You’re probably a loser. A dumb, stupid loser who convinced everyone that you’re good for something when you’re worth jack shit!”

Before he can stop himself, he takes the garbage bag full of cans, glass bottles, and crumpled chip bags and hurls it at Masamune. It hits the base of the statue, far below damaging the One-Eyed Dragon himself, but the glass cracks under the force of being thrown, tearing through the plastic and causing trash and shards to explode all over the steps. Ryuji’s chest is heaving as he stares down at what he’s done.

“Impressive.”

He whirls around at the voice behind him, stomach lurching straight to the ground when he sees who it was. “In his years of war, I doubt that anyone’s ever tried throwing waste in his direction in order to defeat him.”

“Yusuke,” he breathes, feeling his frustration draining away to make room for even more guilt, if that was even possible. Ryuji cannot possibly look any more of an asshole than he does right now—tearing his throat raw in a public space, surrounded by the garbage he had thrown at a national monument in front of a guy who clearly worships and respects art that’s old as hell. “Sorry, I’ll clean it up, I promise. I was just…” he hesitates. “Talking to myself.”

Yusuke hums, unconvinced, and carefully approaches the mess in front of him. Ryuji waves him off. “No, don’t. Broken glass is a bitch, especially the little pieces. If that gets in your skin, it’s game over. You’d have to go into the hospital for sure.” He grimaces. “Trust me. My dad used to throw beer bottles at our place like he was in a ball game, and that ain’t fun, I promise you that.”

“I see.” Turning around, Ryuji hoped that he was magically going to head back to the group and not mention this to anyone there, but instead Yusuke stopped in front of a water fountain. “You’re right. If you’re not careful, it could be very easy to hurt yourself when dealing with broken glass.” Pulling out a handkerchief from his breast pocket in a way that only Yusuke can, he soaks it in water before crouching down at the shards glimmering under moonlight. “But if you use wet fabric to dab it on the shards itself—” he pats the concrete and flips the fabric over, revealing the moist and glistening pieces stuck on its side. “You can clean up the pieces with little to no danger.”

“Huh.” After a moment, he realizes that he’s making Yusuke do the dirty work for him. “Pass me that. Thanks for the tip, but I can take it from here. I mean,” he rubs the back of his neck. “It’s totally my fault that the glass is here anyway.”

He doesn’t look up from his task, eyes focused and movement meticulous. “No need. If you’d like to help, you can start picking up the non-dangerous litter around us.”

Ryuji does as he’s told, wincing as he has to pick up sticky, pop-soaked wrappers with his bare hands but he doesn’t complain. Karmic retribution has never held back against him. “The glass thing,” he starts, squatting down and picking up empty cans and plastic utensils with curry remnants still stuck to them. “They teach you that in Kosei?”

“No, from one of Madarame’s past pupils actually.” Yusuke shifts over to dab at another glass-covered section, concrete looking clearer with every pat. “Sensei had a rather violent habit of hurling canvases at the wall if they do not meet his standards, and his actions had led to many of our more fragile belongings being shattered when he did.” His tone doesn’t change, but Ryuji can see his shoulders tighten. “At least it allowed me to move away from that house very quickly, considering I had very little to pack away.”

Ryuji opens his mouth to comfort him. Instead, he finds himself speaking in a low tone. “Glad that bastard is rotting in jail,” he resists the urge to spit on the ground. “Then afterwards, I hope he rots in hell, just to really cover all of our bases.”

That pulls a chuckle out of Yusuke. “Thank you,” he smiles, and all Ryuji can do is nod. There isn’t much you can say after that without making it weird. But how weirder can it possibly get when the two of you are off towing around someone’s perception of the world on a daily basis?

They continue to work in silence; the wind is gentle, but it’s enough to rustle the leaves and allow Ryuji to feel some relief from the summer heat. He’s picking up wet paper tissues, and it’s gross, but it’s nice to be doing something with his hands.

He’s just about done his part of the clean-up when he can’t take it anymore. “Aren’t you gonna ask?”

“No,” Yusuke answers without looking up. That’s another thing that Ryuji really appreciates about him—playing dumb has never been something that he’s done to get out of an awkward situation. To be fair though, Yusuke himself is an awkward situation.

“Why not?”

“Did you want me to?”

That question makes him pause, and Yusuke doesn’t wait for an answer. “You’ve always been the most vocal in the group, and while many a time it has been our downfall in terms of secrecy, I have always considered it one of your strong points. And if you, Sakamoto Ryuji, are indeed struggling with using your words,” Yusuke’s eyes turn to him. “Then it must be very difficult to talk about.”

A beat passes. “No,” Ryuji mutters. “I don’t want you to ask.”

“Then I won’t,” he says easily. “But I do have a question.”

“Lay it on me.”

Yusuke shuffles to crouch down next to him, and it’s kinda weird seeing someone as elegant as him pose like some kind of hoodlum. “Does Akira know about your struggle?”

His mind flashes back to the confused look back in the RV and he scratches his neck roughly. “I bet he does now.”

Yusuke leans back, shocked. “He doesn’t know?”

“I’m getting there! Don’t pressure me, man. You said it yourself, I’m fucking struggling.”

“Well, yes, I did say that, but it’s Akira,” he says the name almost reverently. “I’d be surprised if he doesn’t sense that something is askew.”

“I just said that, didn’t I? Goddamn, you and Ann are just two of the same peas in the same freaking pond, aren’t you?”

“It’s ‘pod’, Ryuji,” he corrects. “Ann is aware?”

“She—” Ugh, how does he explain that she thinks she knows, but really he had lied about what he told her? “She basically knows.” And because his fat mouth just keeps getting fatter, “She’s sort of part of the problem.”

Yusuke’s eyes widen and Ryuji hurries to cover up for his mistake. “She’s not a problem, it’s just that I didn’t explain…It’s really my fault, and how I deal with internal shit, you know what I’m saying? And Ann’s just kind of in the crossfire, so what ended up happening is when I talk to her about what I’m feeling, I end up just feeling worse.” He winces. First he lies to her and now he’s shit-talking her? “I did not say that. What I really mean is that, uh, feelings...and actions...are complicated,” he finishes weakly.

“I see,” he says finally.

It seems that even Yusuke has a threshold for uncomfortable moments, because he rises to his feet. “Thank you for sharing all of that with me.”

“Uh, yeah, for sure. Thanks for the glass trick.”

“No need to mention it. It’s much easier to clean up a mess when you have someone helping you.” He points vaguely behind himself, “Would you like to head back together? I’m sure by now the festivities are winding down, and the trash you were so keen on disposing of has definitely been thrown away.”

Ryuji blanches. It grossed him out that he forgot he was holding an armful of garbage in his hand. “You go ahead. I just need to,” he rocks his arms, almost cradling the wet garbage. “Throw this out.”

“Very well. I’ll see you when you get back, then.”

He waves at him, and Ryuji wiggles in response (unless he wants it all hitting the ground and restarting that whole process again, which, no thanks.) After dumping it all into a nearby trash can, the process of which lasts several minutes since he still had to sort out the recycling, he feels a buzz in his pocket.

KA: come back when you can KA: i miss you

He takes a shaky breath.

SR: on my way

[innuendostyles]

Umm maybe Ben exploring his ‘feminine’ side more????? How bout him asking u to paint his nails? Or him asking if he can wear your makeup? Idk thought it would be cute hahah

ben wants to try something different

2.8k -> masterlist

waking up next to ben was one of her favourite things on the planet. something about the way his hand would rest underneath her shirt (if she had one on) and rub small circles under her breast settled her like nothing else could. she normally woke up to ben cooing to her, usually murmurs of how beautiful she was when she slept, or if she’d overslept it would be gentle reminders of where she had to be - which was why she was surprised to wake up to dead silence.

she yearned to feel his hands on her skin, as she was so used to, but instead, her hand simply rested in ben’s. her palm face down on ben’s larger hand while he traced one pointer finger over her freshly manicured nails. they were painted a pastel blue colour, completely matte except for a shimmery top coat applied to her ring finger. she’d been on the phone ben while she was getting her nails done, asking him what he thought she should get done when the nail lady asked her what colour she’d like. he asked her what clothes she had on at that moment, to which she replied a light blue jumper that had a sparkly carebear printed on the front of it. he simply gave a ‘well then…’ and told her he’d ring her back when she was done. so to see him admiring her fresh set wasn’t surprising.

his eyes flashed to hers as she roused herself from sleep, carefully removing her hand from his to wipe the drool from her chin. he gave her a light chuckle as her body strung completely taught before laying entirely limp back on the bed and stretching her arms across his chest. she clung to him like a koala, pressing a couple of kisses to his neck when she had enough energy.

“you like my nails?” she whispered, pressing one final kiss to his neck before sitting up.

“yeah.” he chuckled, resting his hand on her hip as she reached to the bedside table to retrieve her phone.

“i’ll make some breakfast.” she said, leaning down to place her hand on ben’s cheek before leaving the bedroom.

she walked down the stairs, calling for frankie as she reached the bottom step, happy to receive many sloppy kisses to her face when she bent down to give the dog her favourite behind the ear scratches.

there was a pink bottle stuck in her mouth, which y/n speedily removed and wiped on her t-shirt to get rid of all the dog spit. it was her nail polish, a cheaper dupe of some dior varnish she’d seen on instagram. the colour, effectively called ‘cha-ching cherry’ was a hot pink, and she’d bought it purely because it was on sale at the drugstore and reminded her of the dior version.

“how’d ya get this, silly girl?” she cooed to the dog, stamping kisses on the top of her head. she wondered how she even reached and opened the polish in the first place, she was sure it had still been in the plastic wrap it came in when she went to bed last night… no, it definitely was. she remembers placing it on the shelf next to the tv when she emptied her bag after she came home. so how had a three year old dog opened protective packaging? it was a mystery to her. instead of going full sherlock mode, she cracked some eggs into a pan and discarded the thought to the back of her mind.

she had to shout ben downstairs, which was unusual, because normally he’s downstairs as soon as she is, offering to help her make breakfast and playing whatever music he was in the mood for over the apartment speakers. he came down the stairs looking rather sweaty and she wondered what he’d been up to. looked like he’d just run a fucking marathon, but he was still dressed in his pyjamas (a pair of calvin kleins couldn’t be classed as pyjamas, surely?) so she knew that answer was out of the equation. maybe he’d been brushing his teeth super violently. she knows that’s not true when he goes to kiss her cheek as a good morning and she shies away from him with a ”morning breath!” and a playful grimace. he chuckles at her, bending down to pat frankie on the head.

he got frankie’s food ready before even realising he had a plate of eggs and fruit waiting in front of him. he sat at the rather small dining table, pouring them some orange juice and handing her the glass once he’d finished. even gave her a little more than he had, because he always complains she doesn’t get her 5 a day.

he just wants her to feel happy and healthy! can he complain, when she treats him so well and even leaves his eggs on for a whole minute longer than hers because she knows he doesn’t like it when the yellow is all runny? when she takes care of a dog that originally was the shared pup of him and his ex?

he has no time to think before she’s giggling a little, pointing to frankie in the corner of the kitchen who had somehow managed to eat all her food and drink all her water in the space of 2 minutes. he giggled as well, taking a bite of his eggs and calling out a ”good girl” to the beagle.

“yeah, well our ‘good girl’ somehow managed to open my new nail polish and came to me this morning with it in her mouth like it was some sort of present she bought! might have to start calling her father christmas!” she jokes, taking a bite of banana before breaking some off and making a kissy sound to garner frankie’s attention before placing some on the floor next to her for the dog. she did love her banana.

ben places his hand quickly onto his thigh beneath the table after he caught sight of it on top of the tablecloth, hoping she hadn’t noticed how quickly he made the movement. she simply furrows her brows at him, tilting her head as she asked if he was okay.

“yeah, ‘m fine just got a cramp.” he lies straight through his teeth, not being able to look her in the eyes and instead offering frankie a piece of watermelon to frankie, which was unusual for him as he never gave his food to her, claiming it ‘only gives her a bad tummy and then i’m the one who has to clean up all the sick she leaves on the bathroom floor!’, which y/n notices and gives a sigh.

“ben.” she deadpans, setting the banana peel down.

he removes his hand from his leg and sets it upon the table, in a fist originally, before he unclenches his hand and then she sees it. his ring and middle finger nails are painted pink. he looks carefully at her reaction, even though there isn’t much to go off, just a look back to his eyes after she’s seen his hand.

“are you… angry?” he questions, eyes still avoiding hers.

“i’m not angry at you for using my nail polish without telling me ben…” she says with a slight chuckle, her face looking awfully confused, “...what’s mine is yours, and all that.”

his eyes flit to her’s at this, a brow raising as he asks, “so you’re not… weirded out?”

she can’t actually tell if he’s joking or not until she looks at his hands, where he’s nervously pulling at his knuckles in hopes to make them crack. it was one of his worst habits, something he only did when he was really going through it. she realises he must have been embarrassed or feel ashamed when she tells him she wasn’t, if the way his shoulders fell from near enough above his head showed her anything.

she decides he wants to leave the conversation at that when he picks up his fork and begins eating his eggs, looking a hell of a lot less stressed than he did before.

“why were you so sweaty when you came down before?” she questions, though she’s careful to make her tone sound as least judgemental as she possibly can, offering an inquisitive smile at the end.

“i um- wanted to get it off. before you saw it.” he purses his lips before he speaks again. “i couldn’t find any of that horrid-smelling remover stuff so i was trying to scrub it off with that lemon exfoliating shit you’ve got in the shower. worked up quite a sweat.” he chuckled, and she smiled at his first genuine laugh this morning.

“ben, why did you think i’d care so much?” she asks, and she can actually feel a pain in her chest as she realises it must have been eating away at him all night after his reaction to her seeing it. the pain in her chest only deepens when she hears a muttered, “i thought you’d think it was … really weird and like… not normal.” he continues, his voice getting louder and louder as he carried on, “cause it’s like… a girls thing. and i’m not a girl. and i know you’d never think that i was stupid or weird so i don’t even know why it ran through my head cause i did it last night when you went to bed and i was still downstairs… i saw it and i just wanted to put it on me like… for fun. and then i thought you might be angry at me for opening it so i just went to bed but i couldn’t sleep cause i was worried you’d be annoyed at me so i just… spent all night looking at yours. your nails, i mean.” once he’d finished rambling, she reached a hand out to his, pulling him along until they’d settled onto the sofa in the living room.

her on her back against the arm rest, with him on his stomach laying between her legs. maybe not the most flattering position on her part, but she felt closest to him this way. she reached a hand up to his hair, running her fingers through the golden locks before sighing.

“ben, i need you to listen to what im gonna say really closely, yeah?” she whispered.

he nods, and she takes that as her cue to continue.

“it isn’t ‘a girls thing’. and i’m not angry at you, and you’re right, i’d never think you’re weird for doing anything ever. i love you, and i’m in this for the long haul, so speak to me. tell me when you wanna try new things. ‘cause you know i won’t be angry, or annoyed, or weirded out… because it’s you.” she could see his eyes softening as he stared directly into hers.

it felt like he was reaching deep inside her mind and pulling out every honest word he could find. he laid his head down on her stomach, before giving a simple, “i love you.”

“do you want me to paint the rest of them?” she asked after a couple of minutes of stroking through his hair.

“please.” he replied, and she felt his smile on her stomach as he heard frankie pattering through the doorway and coming to lie on ben’s back to join them both. he lifted his head up and formed his lips into a kissy shape, to which she leant down and pecked him.

he followed her into the kitchen to retrieve the nail polish, clapping like an excited kid as she led him upstairs. she walked into the bathroom and sat on the countertop, ben bringing a chair from the bedroom to sit in front of her. she spread her legs and placed his hand flat on the surface of the counter, protected by an old sheet of newspaper in case of a polish accident.

once she’d painted one hand, he rested it on her thigh, only beginning to stroke it once she told him his nails were dry enough. she’d finished his other hand, commending her own painting skills as she skipped the two nails he’d already done the night before, he kissed her thigh, just below where his dry hand sat, before lifting himself off the chair to press a kiss to her forehead, then her left cheek, and finally her lips. she pulled her head back as soon as she felt how dry his lips were, telling him he needed some vaseline.

he looked behind her, seeing her collection of lip products before picking up a familiar tube. it was one she used constantly, which meant it must have been good, which was the reason why he asked her to put some on him a couple of seconds later.

“vaseline isn’t the same as lipgloss, but i’ll let this one slide, my dear.” she chuckles, opening the tube of clear, strawberry scented lipgloss. it had a slight shimmer to it, especially when in the sun, and she was unbelievably excited to see it on him.

“i only picked it cause it tastes nice.” he mentions before she has the chance to apply it.

“ben! you’re not meant to eat it!” she scolds, pulling back and taking the applicator with her.

“i know! i don’t do it purposefully, i just get a mouthful sometimes after you snog me.” he says,

smiling when she laughs.

“yeah, well i think i might have to see just how it tastes the next time we snog, which i have a feeling might be in just a second.” she smirks before applying the gloss.

[skycollides]

Shot

Creeper x Reader

Authors note: I apologize in advance for grammar mistakes

English isn’t my native language.

Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist or removed.

Warning: mentions of shooting, swearing

Words: 1.278

’’Don’t freak out but Creeper was shot’’

’’Are you fucking serious right now Angel? You tell me my boyfriend was shot and not to freak out in one sentence! Are you out of your mind?! How is he?’’

’’It’s actually not that bad to be honest the doctor is stitching him up right now. He told us to call you but I had to. You’re my cousin, I love you and I promised you to give you a call when something like this happens.’’

’’Thank you. You and Ez okay?’’ you ask anxious.

’’We’re fine princesa. As soon as the doc is finished Ez and I will bring him over.’’

’’Okay. See you later, love you!’’

’’Love you too.’’ with that you drop your phone next to you on the sofa and take a deep breath. Knowing that the boys will most likely be hungry when they come over you decide to cook for them. You head to the kitchen and check your supply cabinet and fridge coming to the conclusion Chili con Carne is the best solution.

Once the food is finished you hear a car pull up immediately knowing it’s them. You turn the stove off and leave the kitchen. The front door opens and the three of them walk in. Ez is carrying Nerons stuff while Angel is supporting Neron guiding him straight to your bedroom. Ez is the first one to speak.

’’Hey sweetheart.’’ he say and gives you a hug

’’ Doc gave him some heavy stuff. He needs to rest now but he will be okay’’ he says while handing his stuff to you and some painkillers. Angel joins the two of you in the living room.

’’He fell asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.’’ Angel says.

’’Thanks. I’m just glad you are okay. I don’t know what I would do if something happened to you’’ you say tearing up. This is your biggest fear ever since Angel became a Mayan. Loosing your family. Ez becoming Mayan and having a boyfriend who’s also one is only increasing your fear.

Before you were able so say something else the two Reyes men pulled you in their arms. You stand there in their embrace for at least 2 minutes before pulling away.

’’I love you boys’’ you say and smile at them.

’’We love you too, always’’ Ez says.and Angel nods in agreement.

’’I cooked for you guys in case you’re hungry’’

’’Sweetheart I really appreciate it-’’ you cut Ez off.

’’But you’re not staying. It’s okay the runs are rough I understand. Let me at least fix you some food to take with you.’’ you head into the kitchen and get 2 containers filling the up with your famous Chili. Once you’re done you take the containers and leave the kitchen. Back in the living room you hand them the containers.

’’There you go boys.’’

’’Thanks you’re the best Y/N’’ Angel says and kisses your forehead.

’’If you need something let me Ez or Pops know okay princesa?’’ you nod and he leaves.

’’Thanks Y/n’’ Ez says and smiles. ’’You heard Angel it doesn’t matter what time it is - even if it’s in the middle of the night we’re only one call away okay?’’

’’Thanks Ez’’ you say and kiss his cheek. He kisses the top of your head before leaving your house. You take a bottle of water for Neron and head to the bedroom. Opening the door slowly you see him passed out in your bed. You walk towards the bed and set the bottle down on the night stand before laying down carefully not trying to wake him up. But apparently you failed because he opened his eyes.

’’Hey baby’’ he says sleepily.

’’Hey Neron. How are you feeling baby?’’

’’Like I’ve been shot.’’ he jokes.

’’If you weren’t hurt I’d hit you right now. This isn’t funny. I was fucking scared when Angel called. Which reminds me: Why the fuck did you tell the not to call me?’’ 

’’I didn’t want you to worry baby. I know how much you worry when we leave for a run. I didn’t mean to upset you. I promise you incase something happens again that I will make sure you know.’’

’’Thank you. It’s okay I’m just glad you’re going to be okay.’’ say say and press your lips onto his giving him a short kiss. ’’I love you Neron’’ 

’’I love you too Y/n.’’ he says with a goofy smile before closing his eyes.

’’Get some more sleep babe you need it to recover’’ you say softly and caress his cheek.

’’Only if you’re going to stay with me baby.’’ he protests. ’’I’m here. I’ll always be.’’ you say before closing your eyes and drifting off.

2 hours later

When you wake up Neron is not laying next to. 

’’Seriously can that man just do for once in his life as he’s told. I that so much to ask for’’ you say to yourself while getting out of bed and leaving your shared bedroom looking for your man. You find him in the kitchen standing there heating up the chili you cooked earlier today.

’’Neron what the heel do you think you’re doing?’’ he turns around smiling at you.

’’Hey baby well I got hungry so I got up and found your chili. Thank by the way you know how much I love your chili. Do me a favor and get two plates my love.’’ he says and you’re stunned not believing what he just said.

’’You were just shot! You could have died and now you’re walking around here like nothing happened. The doctor told you to take it slow and rest - in bed I might add. That is everything but slow Neron.’’ you say and shale your head.

’’I know. I know I scarred the living shit out of you but the meds are working pretty well. I don’t have any pain right now and I wanted to use the time to eat because I know how much you hate it when when I eat in our bed. Don’t be mad at me.’’ he says softly walking over to you kissing you softly. 

’’Be happy I love yo so much Vargas. You sit down and I’ll prepare the plates- end of the discussion.’’ you say firm and he nods before leaving the kitchen.

You follow him shortly after with two plates and 2 spoons putting it down on the coffee table.

The both of you eat in silence. After you are finished Creeper speaks up.

’’I know I’m only here a couple of hours and I’m already being a pain in the ass. I’m sorry for that.  Thank you baby for taking care of me. It means so much to me. I love you.’’

’’Yes you are but I wouldn’t want to have it any other way! I love you too Neron so so much. You don’t have to thank me. You’re my man I got your back. I will always take care of you.’’ you say to him giving him a smile before taking his hand into yours kissing his knuckles.

’’Now that were done eating you will go and lay down again no but no discussions.’’ and he nods while getting up.

’’You will join me right babe?’’ he asks.

’’As soon as Im done in the kitchen I’ll be there.’’ 

After the kitchen is cleaned up you head to the bedroom seeing Neron already asleep in your bed. You smile go to the bathroom getting ready for bed before joining him.

’’Night baby. I love you.’’ you whisper before falling asleep.

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[littlewickedwiccan]

For The Workers

Chapter 1

Alfie x Reader

Chapter 2 || Chapter 3

Warning: Swearing, obvs

Authors note: I haven’t written a fic in about 10 years and I’ve never written Peaky stuff so be gentle with me and I may continue. Just a bit of establishing fluff to get the ball rolling. This takes place in episode 2 season 2 and the first scene where we meet Alfie.

You’d insisted on joining Tommy on his long journey down to Camden. He’d managed to check himself out of the hospital 3-weeks early, and you were surprised he’d even made it to Charlie’s in one piece.

You’d served as a nurse, way back during the war, so you rushed to give him a once over, which he brushed off, telling you he was ‘fine’.

He had, however, very reluctantly agreed to let you accompany him down the canal to London, just so you could help him heal that little bit faster. You didn’t think your presence would actually do that much good, but it made you feel better being by his side just in case.

Curly was now steering you smoothly along the water, while you and Tommy rested down below. Every now and again you would have to lean over and dab away a small droplet of blood that escaped from his nose.

Tommy may not be blood related, but he was the closest thing you had to family. Ever since Polly had taken you in at 13, he had made sure to protect you as if you were a full blood Shelby. You knew what happened behind closed doors, but you rarely got dragged into Peaky business.

The boat turned idly into Camden locks, just as the dawn started to settle and workers appeared ready for the day. You tried to help Tommy get dressed and attempted to make him look as though he hadn’t had the shit kicked out of him just weeks before.

“How do I look?” He asked, tentatively fixing his cuffs and collar.

“Like you should still be resting in a hospital, surrounded by medical professionals” you replied, as you once again wiped the red drip from his nostril.

He brushed off your comment with a shrug, carefully stood finding his balance and squeezed himself through the tiny door and onto the solid concrete of the locks.

You followed quickly, smoothing out the wrinkles in your skirt and repinning the loose strands of hair that had broken free from your top bun. You sighed heavily, trying to remember why you had been so desperate to take care of this stubborn ox of a man.

Camden didn’t look too dissimilar to Birmingham. The same working class men covered in soot, callouses burned on their finger tips and sweat on their brow.

Steam lingered in the air and there was a faint smell of bread mixed with coal and rum. The men lifting barrels and boxes stopped to watch you as you trailed behind Tommy. You made sure to keep close.

As you rounded the corner and into the wooden warehouse, you were greeted by a tall, lanky man, a stained white apron tied loosely around his waist.

Tommy automatically held his arms out to the side, allowing the man to pat him down. He knew the drill. You however, you had always been kept out of this kind of thing, so you weren’t sure if you should follow suit or hang back. Were you supposed to just let this man feel you up? Would it cause trouble if you refused? You tried to catch Tommy’s eye but he was focused on a spot on the ground, trying to remain in control and probably conscious.

Just when the tall man was about to set his sights on you, a booming, gravely voice from down the hall cut through the loud sounds of machinery and chatter.

“Put ‘im down down Ollie, put ‘im down mate he’s only little”

The man apparently called Ollie took a step back, giving you a much better view of the man barrelling towards you.

He was sturdy, broad shouldered and walked with a slight hunch. His worn shirt was littered with stains and dirt, the same as his apron that was also tied around his waist, just like Ollie’s.

He stopped just short of Tommy, only glancing up for a second and ignoring your presence completely.

“You two come alone?” Apparently he had noticed you after all.

Tommy glanced back, looking at you for a brief moment before replying “it appears so”.

“You’re a brave boy ain’t ya, come on then”

This was where you had to let Tommy take the lead. You may have been there to keep him on his feet, but you knew you couldn’t let this man see how broken Tommy really was.

You held back, allowing the broad man to lead your group down the dark corridor. You looked around, taking in the dirty floors and tired looking men hiding in the shadows. The smell of rum and fire was stronger now and the heat was almost stifling this far into the warehouse.

You couldn’t hear what the two men in front of you were saying until they stopped suddenly to look at something. As you drew closer you heard the broad man say something about bread, as he made a small sweeping motion towards some bottles on a table.

“White or brown?”

“I’ll try the brown” replied Tommy, shifting his weight slightly.

He must be struggling to hold it together with this heat, you could see the tiny movements he was making under his long black coat, in order to stabilise himself.

The broad man seemed friendly enough on the surface, but there was an air about him that made you feel like he could snap at any moment and kill you all. It was both terrifying and exciting all at once.

His firm shoulders could be seen tensing through his thin shirt and his eyes were laser focused on Tommy’s face and Tommy was staring just as intently, refusing to back down. It was like watching two Tom cats size each other up, each one ready for a fight if the other made any sudden movement.

“And what about you love?”

You locked eyes with the man suddenly, you’d been so busy analysing the exchange in front of you, you hadn’t even noticed that his attention had been redirected towards you.

Your face grew hot, caught off guard and feeling naked under his intense stare.

“I’ll have the same, thank you”

You actually didn’t want a drink at all, you were far too nervous in this unfamiliar surrounding but you also didn’t want to offend this man.

He handed you both a glass of amber liquid, its smell was stronger than you had anticipated. Tentatively you brought the rim of the glass to your lips and took a sip. It burned all the way down your throat and your face winced at the sensation.

Your eyes flicked up momentarily as you felt someone’s eyes on you. They were his. He was staring directly at you unblinking.

“Whattya think?”

Even though he was still focused on you, the slight tilt of his head as he asked his question indicated that he was addressing Tommy.

“It’s alright”

“Alright? Alright?”

Tommy didn’t move, You weren’t even sure if he was breathing. You also stopped breathing, unsure if the man had been offended by Tommy’s flippant review of his rum.

“... it’s bloody awful that stuff.”

You both sighed an inaudible sigh of relief.

“Nah the brown stuff’s for the workers. The white stuff, now that’s for the bosses.”

The man took Tommy’s glass from him and placed it on the table in front of him, turning then to face you, his hand outstretched to take your glass.

“Whatta about you then?” His gaze returning to your face.

You faltered slightly under his watchful eye before finding your words.

“... I like it. I think the darker rums have more flavour than the white spirits.”

He paused and for a second you thought you’d somehow stepped out of line. You were both now holding onto the glass in your hand as you just stared each other down, neither one of you blinking.

“Right then” he said softly, as he slowly took the glass and placed it next to Tommy’s.

You let go of the breath you didn’t even know you’d been holding. You could feel the blood in your face heating your skin. Your heart was pounding in your chest and you picked a spot on the floor to focus on, sinking back just a little bit more.

After that moment, it was like you’d been dunked in a pool of water. The sounds around you were muffled and you almost didn’t notice Tommy and the man walking off towards an office.

Quickly you snapped out of your daze and stepped forwards, but instinctively you knew that the office was not a place for you. Women were never allowed in the room where men were doing ‘business’, or ‘willy waving’ as Polly often called it.

Instead, you found a sturdy box outside the room to perch on and wait. You watched as Tommy stepped into the office, the man following behind him and turning to close the door. Just before it shut, you caught his eye again, he gave you a wink before shutting the door and pulling the blinds down, leaving you outside alone.

Once again your face felt flush, your heart racing and your breathing becoming shallow. You tried everything you could then to repress the butterflies that were forming deep within your stomach.

——————————————————————

Chapter 2 || Chapter 3

[highpope]

Silver Keys - Ch. One

JJ Maybank x oc / Soulmate AU / Topper x oc

warnings: none, if there are any let me know!

Word Count: 2k ish

Notes: Hi guys, sorry this is so long overdue. I was fighting with this one. But i really wanted to update this story. It’s not my fave but that’s okay. ** As always, reblogs and feedback is welcome and appreciated. 

Masterlist - READ PROLOGUE FIRST :))

June sat at the piano she got for her 16th birthday. She had been saving up for years and finally had enough money for a keyboard. It wasn’t the same as the beautiful grand piano at her instructors, but it did the job. June nervously watched the clock tick down to midnight and tried to focus on the song she was trying to learn. If she came into lessons next week without having learned at least half of it she wouldn’t be on track to play at the recital in a few weeks. It was a big deal to her parents, and June too. The recital was on the mainland with tons of different kids from the surrounding areas. June had never gotten an opportunity to play and she wasn’t about to let worrying about her potential soulmate stop her. 

She took a deep breath and began to play. As the minutes turned to seconds, June was gracefully gliding her fingers up and down the keyboard, trying to make sense of the melodies, allowing the notes to soak into the room. 

On the morning of her birthday, June walked down the stairs into the kitchen to see a note and a box of donuts. It was Saturday, meaning both her parents were working and Olivia, her sister, was going to be sleeping the day away. June grabbed a powder sugar donut from the box and read the note: 

Happy Birthday, Love! We can’t wait to celebrate with you tonight. 

Have fun today, Mom and Dad

She smiles and folds the note up. June was just about to grab another donut when the doorbell rang. She looked at the time, 9:30. There’s no way any family member would be stopping by and Olivia’s friends wouldn’t show up unannounced. June opens the door to reveal JJ dressed in shorts and a light long sleeve t-shirt. 

“Happy birthday Ju Ju!” JJ exclaims.

June rolled her eyes, “God, please don’t call me that.” She opened the door wide to let him in. The nickname originated from June’s younger sister. They were five years apart and she couldn’t properly say June’s name for quite a while. So from ages 5 to 8, she was Ju Ju. 

“Nah, I think 18 is the year we bring it back,” JJ said, slinging his arm around her shoulders. 

“Absolutely not,” June says, tapping his cheek lightly, “Thanks though.” He smiles as she jumps up onto one of the stools in the kitchen, “what’s up?”

“You, miss birthday girl, have very important places to be. Go get dressed.” 

“Where exactly do I have to be?” 

“Well, first, Kie’s and then,” JJ motions like he is zipping his lips and throwing the key away. June narrows her eyes causing him to throw up his hands in defense. 

“Okay, fine, but don’t eat my donuts!” June runs up the stairs and begins to get ready. She decides on a blue tube top, shorts, and a white cropped jacket. She runs a brush through her hair and packs her swimsuit and a few other things in a drawstring before going down the hallway to leave a note for her sister. She tells her where she’s going to be and to call when she gets up. 

JJ and her drive to Kiara’a in his truck, the windows down and the radio stuck on the same channel it’s been on since he got it. They’ve learned to tolerate it. JJ was so proud of the truck when he first showed the pogues. He had gotten a busted down pickup from some guy on the island and fixed it up pretty much by himself. The rest of them promised to never make fun of it. 

“Happy Birthday!” The pogues yell when June opens the door. She can’t contain her laughter. Everyone is wearing pink sparkly party hats. Kie instantly comes over to her, throwing her arms around her neck, “baby is eighteen!” June squeezes back and accepts a hat identical to the rest and hands one to JJ who shuts the door behind them. 

“Looking good, boys.” June laughs at Pope and John B posing in their hats. 

“It’s the required attire didn’t you hear?” John B asks, kissing the top of June's head and Pope slinging an arm around her shoulders. They lead her through the kitchen and the sliding door to the outdoor patio. The lounge chairs are set up along with string lights and a birthday banner. It was perfect. The whole thing, being with her favorite people, the perfect weather. 

“You guys didn’t have to do all of this.” 

“But you deserve it. You’re always the first to do anything for the rest of us,” Pope says. 

“He’s right, Juney,” Kie says, smiling. 

“You’re a bunch of saps,” JJ says plopping into a chair. 

After spending the morning and early afternoon hanging out in Kie’s backyard, the five piled into the van and headed down to the beach. The boys were in the water before June could even set her stuff down. It was arguably not warm enough to swim, but that didn’t stop them. Kie and June decided to layout, occasionally sneaking a few drinks from the water bottle filled with alcohol. 

“So how are you feeling about the whole soulmate thing?” Kie asks, bumping her shoulder against June’s. 

To be honest, June had forgotten all about it. She could barely sleep last night she was so nervous, but now that it could happen whenever, she felt much better.

“Honestly okay.” She admitted.

“Do you think you already know who it is?”

“I mean that happens more often than not, right? Just look at our parents.” Kie’s parents had known each other in high school, having grown up on the island, but didn’t know they were soulmates until later down the line. That happens all the time. Whether or not it’s just coincidence or really is fate, June hadn’t decided yet. 

“I guess you’re right.” She paused before speaking again, “I don’t think I want to already know them. I don’t want to marry someone we went to high school with and be stuck here only for our kids to end up the same way.” Seeing Kiara open up like this made June wonder about her own future. 

“Don’t worry Kie, you’re gonna go somewhere cool like Australia and stop the wildfires and clean the oceans and fall in love with some really hot girl and leave us all behind forever.” 

She moved her sunglasses off her face to hold back her hair, “I could never leave you, but you really think so?”

“Of course. You’re going places. John B, JJ, and I are gonna be stuck here smelling like fish bait until we’re 80.” June gags.

Kiara laughs, making a disgusted face, “what about Pope?” 

“Nah, he’s too good for this place.” They both laugh so hard they don’t even notice the boys had made their way back to where they were laying.

“What’s so funny?” John B asks, shaking out his hair.

“Nothing,” Kie says with a smile on her lips. The boys share a knowing look before dropping it altogether. That’s when June’s phone chimes with a message from her sister. 

Mom said to make sure you were home soon for tonight. We’re almost all set up here.

I guess Aunt Morrane is coming:/

“No,” June groans at the last of Olivia’s message. 

“What’s wrong?” JJ asks, sitting down next to her. 

“My Aunt is coming to dinner tonight.”

“The horror!” John B mocks. 

“Stop! I’m serious. She’s a nutcase.” June replies, throwing a towel at his face. He catches it in one swift motion. 

“Ju it’s gonna be fine.” JJ said reassuringly, “I’ll drop you back off.” 

The pogues only stayed a little while longer before packing up their stuff into the van and parting ways once back at Kiara’s. 

“I won’t have any fun without you,” Kie begged before June got into the truck. 

“You’re gonna be fine.” The rest of the group was going to the first official kegger of the summer. June always missed it. She was sure she would hear all about it tomorrow when she would stop by the chateau with a bunch of water and ibuprofen in the morning to make sure they were all breathing. 

“Hey, thanks, J,” June says when JJ had pulled up in front of her house. 

“No problem,” he starts. June reaches for the door handle, “actually, I got you something.” 

Surprised, June says “You didn’t have to get me anything.” 

He waves her off and reaches into the glove compartment, pulling out a bracelet, “uh. It’s not wrapped or anything.” 

June examines the bracelet, it was a brown braided string with a single pearl threaded in the middle. 

“I love it.” 

“Really?” JJ asks, scrunching up his nose, “because it’s okay if you don’t I just thought-”

“No, no I do. Thank you,” June says and reaches up to kiss his cheek. Just then there is a loud pounding coming from the passenger side window, causing June to startle and drop the bracelet. Both June and JJ lean in to grab it off the floor of the car and smack heads. “Shit, sorry”

“Ow!” 

JJ finally grabs the bracelet and hands it back to her before they are both faced with Aunt Morrane opening the door and practically dragging her out of the truck. 

“You know,” her aunt starts, “darling, everyone is waiting inside.” 

“I’ll just be one second, I promise.” She says flashing a smile to her aunt and pleading eyes to JJ. He tries to hide his laughter. 

Aunt Morrane locks arms with June and begins walking up to their sidewalk, quite literally dragging her by her feet, and begins talking about this show she was watching.

“Happy Birthday, Ju Ju!” JJ yells from the truck. June tries to flip him off as discreetly as possible with her aunt still gripping on to her. 

At the door, her mother engulfs her into a hug, “Happy 18th, love.” 

“Thank you, mama.” 

“Was that JJ? You know he could've come in. We have enough food.”

“It’s okay, Mama, he had plans.” That satisfied her enough as she went to close the door and straight back into the kitchen. June took off her shoes and that’s when she heard it. It only lasted a minute and she couldn’t recite it if she was asked, but it was there. Faint, but clear. Just how Pope had described it. Just how everyone had described it. Her soulmate. 

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[youvebeenlivingfictional]

Love Isn‘t Always On Time Part Forty One

Previous Part | Next Part | Masterlist Notes: Not Beta-Read.  I hope everyone’s having a good week! Warnings: Depression; unhealthy coping mechanisms Summary: Steve and Bucky weren’t there. They weren’t with us. That meant that no one had found them yet, that they were safe. That’s what I kept telling myself. That’s what I had to keep telling myself.

I hadn’t felt so pissed and helpless since I was sitting across from Coulson in that interrogation room. I turned my head at the sound of Sam knocking on the bars of his own cell. “Have some water,” He ordered quietly. I lifted my head from my hands, looking down at the bottle that had been left for me. The others had already eaten; the guards had put food in my cell and taken it away when I hadn’t touched it, but they’d left the bottle of water behind. “ ‘m fine,” I mumbled, putting my head back in my hands. We’d been in the Raft Prison for almost a day. A day of radio silence about Steve and Bucky; a day of Sam silently beating himself up over what had happened to Rhodey; a day of Scott intermittently trying to cheer us all up with ant-themed knock-knock jokes. “You need to keep your strength up, c’mon,” Sam urged, “C’mon.” I sighed, leaning back and resting my head against the wall. I did feel drained as hell. I pushed myself up, wincing. I was still bruised as hell from the fight (I’d made a mental note to never try and go after that Spider Kid again). I glanced at Sam, picking up the bottle of water opening it. Sam grunted, appeased, and I heard him walking away. It was enough that he’d leave off for a while. I set the bottle aside after I’d taken a couple of gulps, drawing my knees up to my chest and hugging them there. Steve and Bucky weren’t there. They weren’t with us. That meant that no one had found them yet, that they were safe. That’s what I kept telling myself. That’s what I had to keep telling myself.

“The futurist, ladies and gentlemen!” I turned my head to see Tony walking toward Clint’s cell. I felt an involuntary chill run through me and I turned away, closing my eyes. I didn’t want to hear whatever he had to say - I didn’t want to hear an apology, I didn’t want to hear if he’d found my boys. I heard Tony’s footsteps move closer, then stop outside my cell. “You okay? You took a couple of hard hits yesterday.” I didn’t answer. “...Are we not friends anymore?” He asked. I turned my head to look at him. He looked rough - arm in a sling, face bruised, a black eye. “...What the hell were you thinking, bringing an actual child into this?” I asked. “You’re in a cell, I don’t know if you’re in a place to have the moral high ground,” Tony retorted, “Besides, that actual child kicked your ass.” I scoffed. "Just because you won doesn’t mean you’re on the right side, Stark.” “Why the hell do you think I’m here?” “I don’t give a fuck why you’re here,” I snapped. I tightened my arms around my knees, curling in on myself. The irritation drained out of Tony’s face and he leaned against the cell. “I’m here because I want to help them. I know what they mean to you,” He said quietly. I shook my head. “You’re not getting shit from me, Stark,” I swore before I turned my head again, resting it back on my knees. I heard him sigh heavily before he walked away. “How’s Rhodes?” I heard Sam ask. “They're flying him to Columbia Medical tomorrow. So...fingers crossed... What do you need? They feed you yet?” Tony asked. “You’re the good cop now?” Sam asked, incredulous. “I'm just the guy who needs to know where Steve went,” Tony answered. “Well, you better go get a bad cop, because you're gonna have to go Mark Fuhrman on my ass to get information out of me,” Sam snapped. “Oh, I just knocked the 'A' out of their 'AV'. We got about 30 seconds before they realize it's not their equipment,” Tony said. I lifted my head, frowning at them. “Just look. Because that is the fellow who was supposed to interrogate Barnes,” Tony said, bringing up a hologram to show Sam, “Clearly, I made a mistake. Sam, I was wrong.” “That’s a first,” Sam muttered. “Cap is definitely off the reservation but he's about to need all the help he can get. We don't know each other very well. You don't have to...” Tony trailed off. “Hey, it’s alright,” Sam shook his head. I frowned. I could almost see him weighing his options. “Look, I'll tell you… but you have to go alone and as a friend.” “Sam,” I warned him. Sam shot me a look. “You got a way of getting us out of here? Cause right now there’s only one person in this room that can help.” I shook my head, disbelieving, and watched as Sam leaned in to talk to Tony. I watched him go before I turned to Sam in disbelief. “What’s the worst that could happen?” Sam asked, “They can handle him. He wants to help.” "What if he changes his mind?” I asked. “They can handle him,” Sam repeated, though it sounded more like he was trying to convince himself and not me. -- “Up, sweetheart.” I grunted in response. "Don’t you dare give me a ‘five more minutes’, we don’t have five more minutes.” I opened my eyes, brow furrowing. “Steve?” I breathed, stunned. He smiled, smoothing my hair back before helping me sit up. “Come on, we’re getting out of here.” -- “Where’s Bucky?” I had held off on asking for as long as I could stand. We’d dropped off Clint off at home already; Scott had chosen to stay behind, hoping to strike a deal with Ross and stay close to his daughter; the rest of us were en route to Wakanda. Wanda and Sam were already asleep at the back of the jet. Steve had put the jet on autopilot and leaned back when I’d come up to check on him. He looked worn out, but relieved. He turned the seat, patting his knee. I lowered myself onto his lap, wrapping my arms around his shoulder. He slid his hand up, smoothing it over my thigh before he turned his head, pressing a kiss to my shoulder. “Where is he?” I pressed when Steve didn’t answer me. Steve peered up at me. “He’s in Wakanda, he’s safe, but...” “But?” “He decided to go back into cryo. Just until we can work out how to undo what HYDRA’s done.” My stomach rolled at the news. I turned my head from Steve, shading my eyes to hide my tears. “I know-- But he’s safe, we know where he is,” Steve sighed. “We just got him back,” I mumbled. Steve dropped another kiss to my shoulder. “It was his choice,” He reminded me, rubbing his hand over my thigh, “And T’Challa’s sister said she’s already got some ideas.” I pressed my face into Steve’s neck, letting the fear, weariness, and upset of the last few days pour out of me. When I was able to gather myself I leaned away, scrubbing my hand over my face. “What happened with Tony?” I asked. Steve’s face darkened. “I don’t think we oughta talk about that just now,” He grumbled. I shook my head. “I knew sending him after you was a bad idea.” “Sam did what he thought was best, he couldn’t have known,” Steve pointed out. I huffed, glancing down at him as I reached up, running my fingers through his hair. “How are you?” I asked. “I’m fine,” He answered simply. I knew better than that. “Steve,” I warned. He gave me a small smile. “I’m a little tired. We’ll have some time to rest before we plan our next move.” “T’Challa’s alright with us hanging around?” I asked. Steve nodded. “He offered us asylum for as long as we need it. The States doesn’t have extradition in Wakanda, Ross has no way of getting to us.” I rested my head against his, closing my eyes. I wanted to tell him that I didn’t want there to be a next move. I wanted us to settle for a while, to help Bucky get back to himself, and then get us back to us. But I couldn’t say that. Steve would never stop fighting. It was one of the things I loved most about him; it was one of the things that drove me the most crazy. I didn’t even realize I was falling asleep until Steve’s arm tightened around my waist to keep me close to his chest. “It’s alright,” He soothed when I started to lift my head, “We’ve got a ways to go before we reach Wakanda. Get some rest, sweetheart.” Tag list: @gloryevans @redryderdesigns @winter-scolder @aactuaaltraash @secretagentben @staplerrrr @elliee1497 @adayinmymeadow  @allonszassbutt @mannls @witch-of-letters  @niallssweetheart22 @uneniffler  @rinthehufflepuff @panic-angel3314  @firstangeldragonranch @kaetastic @mcuwillbethedeathofme @skeletoresinthebasement @i-dont-know-what-im-doing-yay @kkaos15 @iamnotoverlyfondofwhatfollows  @bassclarinety @tomshelbystits @rvgrsbrns @marvelmenarebeautiful @tenaciousperfectionunknown @intricate-melody​ @stuffandstuff-stuff​ @fanfuckingtastic04 @messybunnyartist @anescapefromtheworld  @shesa-riott​ @bihoeofmanyfandoms @martyniasz @mamooska8 @silver-winter-wolf