#not to mention you can have your pals out following you n they all keep up unlike a certain other game lfhvldhv

[heatobrienswife]

.

let me show you my pals before i drag my arse to bed lodhvldifh

ngl most of them matching wasn't intentional kfvhfkdfh n ye noct is named after cosmics oc!

[aurorawritestoescape]

TABLE FOR THREE

Joel Miller x f!reader x Dave York || 3,2k

Summary: you’re having a great time on your date but a man from your past interrupts it and makes it…better?

Tw: 18+ mdni, smut, mfm, not specified age gap, dom/sub dynamic, infidelity (reader’s, in the past), manhandling, daddy kink, praise kink, size kink, degradation, slut shaming, m!oral, cum eating, mutual masturbation, unprotected piv (wrap it up), creampie, light spanking, voyeurism, exhibitionism (they don’t get caught),mention of violence, pet names (baby, kitten, babygirl, sweetheart). Pics are for the mood only, reader has no specific physical descriptions.

A/n: this is filthy, y’all. Big thank you to an insanely talented writer @bonezone44 for inspiring me with this post. Smooching and hugging @milla-frenchy for beta-ing and screaming about this story with me. Love you all, hope you’ll enjoy it!💖 dividers by @saradika-graphics

PT 2 WHO’S YOUR DADDY? || MASTERLIST

Your boyfriend Dave and you are having dinner in your favorite restaurant. Your regular booth is tucked in a corner, hidden from the prying eye of the other guests. You two love coming here because you can enjoy each other without being seen, thanks to the tall backrests. Now you’re laughing, kissing and Dave’s hand is resting on your upper thigh, barely covered by your short skirt. His thumb is caressing your soft skin and your mind brings you back to the night before when he was railing you while you were sucking on the thick finger and moaning like a whore.

Suddenly a man plops on the seat in front of you with a smug smile.

Joel fucking Miller.

‘Shit, shit, shit,’ you repeat in your head as your heart freezes.

“Hello, sweetheart. Knew it was you. Saw you in the window passing by.”

He motions somewhere to the right of you and you inwardly curse his sharp eye.

“Want to introduce us, baby?” Dave asks with a cold tone in his voice and throws his arm around you in a possessive gesture.

You clear your throat and say as calmly as possible while panic twists your stomach.

“It’s Joel Miller, my— ehm, old friend.”

Joel chuckles, “Well, if old friends fuck like rabbits and live together for 3 years then I guess I’m that.”

He keeps laughing as you’re boring your eyes into him.

“Joel is my ex,” you admit, highlighting the last word with an expression of disgust on your face.

“Ex?” Dave repeats, narrowing his eyes and taking in the man sitting in front of him — older than him, much older than you, a broad torso under a worn out denim shirt, a big fist resting on the table and by the look of it, the man works with his hands. Joel seems to be calm and confident, but judging by the way you tensed, the break up wasn’t pleasant.

“Would never imagine you with a guy like that, sweetheart,” Joel says with a smug smile.

“And what guy am I?” Dave’s voice is coated with steel.

“Not like me, pal. I’m a simple working man, and this one always went for sweaty dirty men like me. You’re all suited up,” his piercing eyes slide to you and he asks, “Shootin’ out of your league, sweetie?”

“Fuck you,” you bite back and Joel smirks. You wanna slap his face so much but Dave takes your chin between his fingers, turns your head to him and looks into your eyes. His gaze under the furrowed brows scares and excites you.

“I’ll handle it.”

“Ok, Dave,” you mewl with a little nod and return your eyes to your troublesome ex.

“It’s her business who she dates. And mine. I guess your relationship ended badly, and I’m sorry, but shit happens, man. Move on.”

It’s so hot how calm he is and you feel your core burn with desire.

Dave pulls you closer to him with his arm still resting on your shoulder and rubs your collar bone with his thumb. Joel’s eyes follow his movements and he rasps,

“Don’t be sorry for me, pal. I’m fine now but ya gonna get burned if you don’t drop this slut.”

“You motherfucking piece—,” you sit up ready to start a fight but Dave’s hand, that a second ago was caressing your skin, flies to your throat and he pushes you back to the seat, not squeezing your neck but holding you seated by his side.

He shushes you and you can’t help but gush.

It’s a usual thing for him to be rough with you in bed, you love the way he manhandles you, breaks you every time you fuck, little by little, making you his. But he has never shown this side of him out of the bedroom. The idea that he’s so dominant with you around people sends electricity of arousal through your body.

With widened eyes you see Joel’s lips twist in a satisfied smile and anger burns your insides with a scolding ire. Only your boyfriend’s steady voice slightly calms you down.

“Joel, you seem like a reasonable man. What would you do if some asshole interrupted your date and started calling your girlfriend a slut. What I would probably do is break his jaw and then his legs.”

Not losing his smug smile, even after hearing your boyfriend’s threat, Joel raises his hands in front of his chest and explains,

“I don’t want any problems with you— it’s Dave, right? I’m doin’ you a favor. Givin’ you advice. Keep away from this minx. She’s good to look at and great to fuck but she’ll use you and then sleep with half of your crew.”

You curse and Dave puts his palm over your mouth. It’s big and warm and you feel your panties soak more.

“Crew?”

“I work in construction. I found out this bitch had slept with half of my team. Married guys, single. She was a hungry slut and I don’t think anything changed.”

He laughs and you try to take Dave’s hand off your mouth but he grabs your wrists with his strong fingers and keeps your hands on your lap.

“Sit still and let me listen, kitten. Or daddy will be angry.”

You swallow loudly, as your nostrils flare and pussy aches. Only your eyes can move now, darting between the two men.

“I like you, Dave, you have her under your thumb. I was too soft and kind with her. And women like her don’t appreciate kindness.”

Joel’s eyes shift between you and Dave as he continues, “Don't tell me you haven’t noticed. ‘s her nature. Her needy cunt always craves a fat cock. And oh boy, she always knows how to find it.”

You growl under Dave’s palm and he tightens his grip in warning.

“Shh,” he whispers in your ear and then turns to Joel with his eyes narrowed.

“I believe you.”

You hum in protest, wriggling in Dave’s steel embrace, and he takes his hand off your mouth.

“Dave, don’t listen to him, he’s just jealous.”

Joel chuckles, shaking his head.

“You can’t deny the truth, sweetheart. I caught you with a guy’s dick in your mouth, my friend’s dick. And then I beat the truths about your affairs out of the others.”

You glance at Dave with scared eyes but he isn’t looking at you. His pensive gaze is set on Joel.

Then he turns his face to you and blood freezes in your veins.

“I did notice how you looked at the waiter just now, kitten. And that bartender. I know you gave him your number.”

You shake your head, opening your mouth to protest, but he interrupts you.

“Joel isn’t lying. I can tell.”

“He is! I didn’t …”

“Enough!”

You immediately shut your mouth, as soon as Dave slightly raises his voice. He trained you well after all.

“Fuck, good job, man. Look at her. So obedient but still a little feisty.”

Dave smirks and you see pride in his eyes when he hears your ex’s words.

“And she knows how to take cock, huh?” Joel looks at you, adjusting a bulge in his jeans.

You’re glaring at him but your mind bursts with images from your past, him pounding into you, his huge cock stretching you so deliciously and then pumping you full of his thick cum. His skilful fingers could make you explode in minutes and you’d never forget the way he ate your pussy. Dave is perfect in bed but Joel was unforgettable.

“Look at ‘er, she’s probably creamin’ right now, the way she’s starin’ at me.”

Dave smirks darkly and looks you over.

“Let’s find out.”

With that he shifts in his seat, slightly turning his big body to you, and his hand on your thigh slides up and under the hem of your skirt.

“Dave”, you breathe in sharply, widened eyes looking at him.

“Shh, baby, I’m just gonna check.”

His hand pulls your skirt up and he sees your black lacy panties. Joel grunts and leans forward placing his big hairy forearms on the table so he could see what Dave is doing.

Your boyfriend’s thick fingers slip under your panties and you blurt out,

“I’m wet because of you, Dave.”

“Is that so, kitten?” Dave asks but doesn’t look at you. His dark gaze is set on your clothed cunt as he pulls your panties to the side, exposing you to his and Joel’s eyes.

“Fuck, Dave, you’re the man,” Joel praises your boyfriend and you see hunger in the older man’s eyes. You’re so turned on right now, you know you’re dripping.

Dave tsks when he spreads your folds apart and your cunt blooms for them - your clit throbbing, skin glistening with your slick. The cold air hits your pussy and you softly moan.

“Dave, people could see,” you whine and try to close your legs but Dave’s hand stops you and you feel his lips at your temple when he says, loud enough for Joel to hear,

“Let’s ask your old friend to sit next to you and cover you from the passers-by. Will you feel more comfortable, baby?”

You glance up at Joel and though you hate his guts, you can’t deny that you want the fucker.

You nod and Joel’s lips stretch into a wide carnal grin.

He gets up and you salivate at the sight of the huge bulge in his jeans. You desperately want to see his cock, touch it, lick it, su—

Dave interrupts your thoughts, shifting to the side and pulling you with him to make room for Joel. The seat is meant for two people and when Joel plops next to you, turning to you a little, your body gets sandwiched between their huge frames. You feel so small, so helpless around the two men and your clit twitches as the arousal floods your core.

With your pussy still out in the open, you glance at Joel when he wraps his arm around your waist and fans your cheek and chest with his hot breath. The familiar scent of cigarettes, whiskey and Joel's musk hits your nose and you quietly whimper.

“Missed me, babygirl?” He’s leaning to you and you move away, pressing your body closer to Dave.

Your boyfriend reads you like a book. He knows that you’re acting skittish but it’s just a facade. You want it, you want them both.

“Baby, you did wrong by Joel. I think we need to apologize. How about we let him play with your pussy? Daddy won’t be mad, I promise.”

You look into Dave’s eyes and see that he’s not lying.

“Ok, daddy,” you purr and Joel barks a laugh.

“Told you she always wants it. Our little slut.”

You bite your lip hearing ‘our’ but Dave shakes his head.

“She’s mine, Joel, don’t forget that. But I see that she hurt you, and you have a right to punish her. Use her however you want.”

Joel throws him a nod. “That’s fair.”

With that his big calloused hand cups your pussy and slightly squeezes it. You look at Dave as he watches your ex’s hand touch you and his blown out eyes send another surge of wetness into Joel’s palm.

“I missed your sweet cunt, babygirl,” Joel whispers in your ear while his middle finger slips between your folds and he prods your soaking entrance.

“Fuck, she’s so wet, Dave. I remember how she used to soak me, her slick was fuckin’ everywhere. Wonder if she tastes the same.”

You see his finger leave your pussy as he brings it to his mouth and licks it clean.

Dave groans and you moan, watching Joel taste you.

Suddenly you feel a slap on your pulsating clit and you jerk, crying out a little too loudly. You cover your mouth with your palm, scared that the people will notice what the men are doing to you but Joel and Dave only chuckle.

“I fucked her last week in a changing room and she moaned like a little slut but now she’s all embarrassed.”

“I loved it about her. She looks so innocent but when you get her going… fuck, she jus’ loses her mind at the sight of a cock.”

You feel your cheeks burn but Dave doesn’t give you a chance to wallow in your delicious shame and inserts two thick fingers into your wet hole.

You moan his name and he kisses your cheek, before he begins sliding them in and out of you in steady rhythm, whispering obscenities in your ear,

“My little slut,” “bet people can see us”, “you don’t care, right?”, “I know you’d make us fuck you right in front of everyone”, “play with our cocks, baby, c’mon.”

When you hear his command, your hand immediately darts to his bulge and you hastily unbuckle his belt with one hand, open his dress pants and pull out his stiffening cock out of his boxers.

“Don’t forget about your friend, kitten,” Dave rasps, spreading his legs wider, and you unzip Joel’s jeans and take out his already hard manhood.

Their cocks are exposed now and standing at attention, both gorgeous, long and thick. Joel’s is a bit girthier, but you salivate looking at both of them. You can’t deny it, you have a great taste in men.

You spit on your hands and grab Dave’s member with your left hand and Joel’s with your right. They both grunt, when you start sliding your hand up and down their throbbing cocks and you revel in the sense of control they’re giving you. Their slits are leaking on your skin and you glide your palm over their fat tips, gathering their precum to make the cocks wetter.

You’re a mess yourself, the seat under you is getting slippery because of the juices seeping out of your pussy, thanks to your boyfriend’s fingers.

Joel is softly growling, watching your hand pump his cock and Dave working your cunt. “Fuck, I missed you so much, babygirl,” he admits and grabs the neckline of your top. He tugs it down exposing your naked breasts, your perked up mipples and Joel takes one between his index finger and a thumb and shakes his hand up and down. You whimper at the pain that swiftly morphs into pleasure while your tit is bouncing. Joel hunches down and takes it into his hot mouth, gently sucking on it. Your hand flies to run through his hair and your eyes flutter shut, as your climax approaches.

“Come for us, kitten. Soak my fingers,” Dave orders and Joel pushes you over the edge when his fingers find your pulsating clit and he swirls it with his pads while his mouth is still latched on your puffy nipple. Both Dave and Joel are playing with your cunt and soon you’re writhing between them, as waves of euphoria are lapping at your body. You try not to scream but it’s almost impossible, so you bite your lips till you taste blood, desperately trying to hide your ecstasy from the people in the restaurant.

When your orgasm subsides and you slump in your seat, breathing heavily, Joel’s mouth leaves your breast and their fingers part from your messy pussy.

You languidly stroke their cocks, feeling them thrum in your hands.

Dave turns your face to him and kisses you, licking into your mouth, claiming you as his in front of the other man. While your lips and tongues are caressing each other, you hear Joel almost moan from the pleasure your hand is giving him and you part from your boyfriend to whisper,

“He’s gonna come soon, daddy.”

“Want his cum, kitten?”

You nod and he smiles.

“Sit on my cock so I can fill you up. And give your mouth to Joel.”

“Yes, daddy.”

You fix your top and Dave helps you to sit on his stiff member. You both moan at the sensation but Joel curses at the absence of your hand on his ready-to-explode cock.

When you lean down, bringing your mouth to his length, the older man coos, “what a good little slut. Want my load, babygirl?” You look up at him and breathe out a sultry ‘yes’.

“C’mon, milk our cocks, kitten,” Dave commands with a light slap on your ass and you clench around him, making him grunt.

You take Joel’s manhood in your mouth and it’s like those years apart didn’t happen. The taste of his skin, the shape of his cock are so familiar you moan, thinking how much you missed it.

Dave slowly rolls his hips into you, holding your hips with his strong hands and his length slides in and out of your clenching wet hole. You feel the second climax build fast, so you move your hips up and down to make him fuck you harder.

“Man, you did wonders with her. She’s such an obedient little slut now,” Joel praises your boyfriend as their cocks are filling your body from both ends.

“It’s a work in progress, but she’ll be a good girl in no time.”

The way they talk about you like you’re not here, like you’re not pierced on their hard cocks is so delicious that after one hard thrust from Dave, you explode, unravelling on your boyfriend’s manhood as your moans are muffled by your ex’s fat length.

Your trembling body sends the men over the precipice, and Joel starts spurting his warm cum in your mouth and you drink it, hungrily slurping till the last drop. As soon as you’re done swallowing your ex’s load, Dave pulls you up by your shoulder and presses you tight to his body, wrapping his arm around your waist, the other hand splayed on your chest. You feel warmth in your core as his manhood is pulsing inside your pussy and filling you up with his big load. Joel tucks his softening cock back in his jeans, watching your boyfriend’s balls draw up and pump you full while your hole is stretched around his girth.

When Dave stops coming, he carefully lifts you up and quickly pulls back your panties. You sit back down between the men as Dave softly kisses your lips in gratitude and then orders you,

“Don’t spill a drop, baby. Want you to soak your little panties through.”

“Can I see?” Joel asks the younger man, not you, and Dave gives him a short nod.

Joel brings his hand to your pussy and pulls on the band of your underwear. He peeks inside, seeing the creamy cum coat the gusset and your puffy folds.

“You're so fuckin’ hot, babygirl. Did so good for us.” Joel mumbles in your ear and you glance up at him with a little smile. You can’t deny it, you loved this fucker.

As if reading your mind, Joel shoots you a wink and looks at Dave again.

“Was nice meeting you, Dave.” Then he takes a card out of his wallet and puts it on the table.

“If you wanna share the progress, training this one,” he nods at you, “give me a call.”

Then he gets up, adjusts his bulge and leaves the restaurant.

Thank you for reading!❤️ Please comment and reblog if you enjoyed the fic, it motivates me to write more filth for you, lovelies!🩷🌸

Pt 2 Who’s your daddy? || Masterlist

Main tag list: @milla-frenchy @harriedandharassed @iamasaddie @nervousmumbling @bbyanarchist @stevie75 @puduvallee @auteurdelabre @mountainsandmayhem @senoratess @flamingochick55 @theoraekenslover @schnarfer @mermaidgirl30 @staywildflowahchild @yesjazzywazzylove-blog @evolnoomym @keylimebeag

Also tagging the ceo of the Dave York agenda @janaispunk 😘💕

If you'd like to be tagged in the series or in anything else let me know!💕

[inkwolvesandcoffee]

Coy Messages & New Love (Daddy Dom!John Price on Tumblr Headcanons)

Or: More headcanons for a story I might write someday.

CoD Masterlist

Username: CaptainBear

He’s a soft Daddy Dom but with a rough edge. So is it any surprise John is very possessive yet also genuinely caring?

And kinda heartbroken you don’t live in England despite coming across as British.

Is always the first to like your posts.

And despite the rules you set, especially the DNI if you’re 40+ (in my mind, John is about 42), you allow him to interact with your content.

Because there’s something drawing you to him, something inexplicable that craves his attention. Something that keeps you hoping there’s a chance.

Your heart almost leaps out of your chest when you receive a notification.

CaptainBear sent you a message.

CaptainBear: Hey, I just wanted to say I thoroughly enjoy your blog and you seem like a very darling girl. And pretty to boot! You probably won’t respond to this and that’s fine, but I thought I’d finally gather the courage to pop in and tell you.

CaptainBear: Also, if I may be blunt, seeing you wear that choker in combination with that bunny shirt makes it very difficult to think. If you were at base with me, I don’t think I’d be of any use. Mission planning would be nigh on impossible.

(your_username): Base? What do you do for a living?

CaptainBear: I’m in the military. Captain.

(your_username): Wow, seriously?! That’s incredible! But, with all due respect, what is a man like you doing in a place like this?

CaptainBear: Satisfying my curiosity. Maybe on a mission to find something.

(your_username): Which is?

CaptainBear: Companionship. With luck, yours.

(your_username): What’s your name, soldier? If you tell me, I’ll see what I can do.

CaptainBear: It’s John. Sorry, should’ve mentioned that. Quite a generic name too, I know.

(your_username): It’s alright, John. Is it short for anything or just John?

CaptainBear: It’s short for Jonathan, but only my Mum calls me that.

(your_username): But what if I did?

CaptainBear: God, you’ve got no idea how much I now want to hear you say it.

(your_username): Maybe someday you will.

He regularly checks up on you, even multiple times a day. Look, John just wants to make sure you ate, stay hydrated, and are healthy.

When he's on leave, it's not uncommon to get a message from him accompanied by a picture of a pint with the context he's at a pub with his pals. More often than not, it's followed by a confession he'd rather spend the evening with you.

Loves it when you send him photos, especially to show off new lingerie you bought.

Thrives on the knowledge he gets to see more of you than anyone else and loves the thought you’re showing others what they can’t have.

Because it’s all his.

Has confessed to jerking off to them… a lot.

Shares little bits of his day with you. He’d be at a bookshop and ask you to pick something for him to read or your recommendations. Or he’ll be cooking and be struck with curiosity because what is your favourite food? What do you like to eat?

CaptainBear: Y/N, I made a brownie.

(your_username): Oh, is it any good?

The photo he sends you answers the question. Nevertheless, just to be sure and give him the chance to give context, you send a follow-up question. (your_username): Did you use 90% cocoa chocolate or is it…

CaptainBear: It’s burnt… so now you know I can’t bake. I’m a man of many talents, but baking isn’t one.

(your_username): I’m sure you more than make up for it otherwise, sir.

CaptainBear: You’ll find out when we meet, my dear.

Assures you that when he’s away on deployment he’s not making up a lie to be with another. And in order to prove that, John will sneak in photos to show you he’s really in Iraq or wherever else.

Drives the task force up the wall because he gets quite lovey dovey in private.

Leaves compliments on your posts which are laced with possessiveness and his obsession with you (my pretty Dollie, sweet little thing, etc.) on your posts. He tags you in photos and reblogs too to let you know what he's into, thinks you like, and hopes for your relationship and possible future.

Furthermore, he also shows you claimed him via reblogs and by stating he’s ‘taken and proudly devoted to (your_username)’ in his blog’s bio (even before he's asked for your submission, which he is pretty sure you'll give him. Until then, it's a way to stave off unwanted attention).

Gets especially gooey with lust and affection when you show him the plushies you’ve crocheted (totally not saying this because I crochet, haha). Like, he’ll immediately brighten when he sees a '(your_username): John (and occasionally sir or even Daddy later down the line), look at this!' followed by a photo of you snuggling with your new animal buddy.

As time passes by and you two get to know each other in more ways than one, you finally decide to meet. The moment you tell John you booked a train to London during the time he’s on leave he’s overjoyed. Ecstatic even.

The moment you enter King’s Cross, he spots you and practically runs over to wrap you up in a warm bear hug before you can get so much as a greeting out. The only sound you make is a surprised squeal as he lifts you up and twirls you around. “My little lady, finally home.”

At last, you regain your voice. “Hello to you too, Jonathan.”

Though he loathes hearing anyone else use his full name, he melts on the spot when you do. Moreover, he’s flattered you remembered the promise he thought was an empty one, a fleeting wish.

Turned into a dream come true.

Takes you out for coffee and Build-A-Bear as a first date the day after because your first day together gets lost to unpacking and settling into the Hackney townhouse he calls ‘home’. Lost to getting the messages (holding hands all the while), learning how each of you likes their coffee, what his favourite cigars are, what your favourite food is.

Lost to the feeling of what it’ll be like to live together.

It’s surprisingly much easier for John to tune into you than he expected. Henceforth, he picks up on the hesitation that underlines your movements, the slight shudder in your lips while he tries his best not to get completely lost in you.

“We don’t have to do this,” he hastily says between kisses, needing to get the words out before you start something you won’t want to finish.

“No, I want to, John. I want you.” You told him you’re a virgin and have given off clues that the concept of actually having sex is, to be honest, quite frightening. Nevertheless, you’ve put your trust in him and feel secure in his touch, his embrace.

“I know, love, but I mean that we don’t, shouldn’t even, have sex if you don’t want to.” His features soften. “Don’t do it if you feel like you need to to please me because you don’t. I’ll wait for when you’re ready. I told you before, this isn’t about sex or the dynamic. I love you. Love who you, you as a person, are and I don’t want to pressure you into doing anything you don’t want.”

After reassuring him and giving him your consent explicitly multiple times, he picks you up and carries you to the bedroom.

Tries to be gentle the first time, but ends up being rough anyway. He’s utterly enchanted, nay, enthralled by how you look, unraveling over and over again.

All because of him.

Nonetheless, John refuses to cum inside you until you’re on birth control and he has bought a box of proper condoms.

“It’s not that I don’t want to have sex with you or cum inside. Believe me, I do, every minute of the day. Drives me fucking mad, but,” he caresses your hair as he pries your legs away from his waist, ”I have to think about your health as well.”

You don’t protest, don’t want to after a soft kiss on the forehead and a husky “I’m sorry, love”. In response, you lightly squeeze his arm and shake your head. “Don’t apologise. I also won’t force you to do things you don’t want to do. Though it’s nice.”

“What is?”

“You looking out for me.”

“‘Course I do,” John snaps into you, picking up the pace again that has you seeing stars, “I’m your captain. Your man. Your bear.”

Those very words, combined with his warm presence, tips you over the edge.

A content echo of his name fills the room, rings in his ears as a satisfied sigh falls from your lips and tears stain your cheeks. It’s this image of chaotic beauty, of gorgeous ruination, which almost makes him break his promise. Nonetheless, after a few more sharp thrusts, he pulls out. Thick creamy white spurts draw an intricate pattern on your skin.

His mark.

John rests his forehead against yours, basking in the afterglow. “I love you.”

Today and the many days he hopes are ahead of you.

[lucisfavoritedemon]

Through The Portal: Chapter 4

Series Masterlist

Chapter Summary: Ford must talk Y/n down from making a rash decision. Both must face their tormentor head on.

Pairing(s): Stan x reader (platonic present, romantic past), Ford x reader, Dipper x best friend!reader, Mabel x best friend!reader Bill x reader

Warnings: angst, fluff, mentions of hopelessness, torture, mental manipulation, PTSD, unrequited love, flashbacks.

A/N: The events and ideas are based on a theory I have about the Nightmare Realm. This is in no way canonically true, just my theories based on what we canonically know about the Nightmare Realm.

“What!? Are you crazy? I would never even think about doing that to you!” Ford was frantic, he really couldn’t believe I just blurted that out so casually.

“Using the memory gun and erasing the thoughts of Bill, and what I saw and went through in the Night Realm, it might just work. I’m willing to make that sacrifice if it means keeping the rift safe.”

“No! That’s not even an option on my radar.”

“I’m aware, that’s why I’m making it an option.”

“No. I’m not doing that. I care about you too much to erase your memories all willy-nilly like that.”

“It’s not willy-nilly, Ford. I know what I’m asking of you and I know it’s a hard decision but…”

“A hard decision!? It’s an impossible decision that I am refusing to make. I’m not gonna do it, and neither are you. End of discussion.”

I sigh, “may I ask why?”

“Because, if I erased your memory of your time in there and your memories of Bill…you’d forget who I am.”

His words struck me. Was this Ford’s weird way of hinting at something? I shook the thoughts away. Ford and I had been through a lot when it came to Bill, and maybe he finally felt like someone truly understood him fully. He wouldn’t come out and say it, but he was scared of being the outcast he felt he always was.

“Okay, I’m sorry I asked.”

“It’s okay. As long as you promise never ask me to do that again.”

I nod, “is there anything else you need from me?”

Ford shook his head, “you can head back upstairs. I just felt like you should know what I found. You and I are of like minds and we both know how evil Bill truly is.”

I nod, “okay, if you need anything from me, you know where to find me.”

We shared an understanding look for each other before I walked back upstairs where the twins started to bombard me with questions and stories again. It felt nice that they were accepting of me into their life.

The next couple of weeks were interesting. Dipper and Ford told me about their adventure playing Dungeons, Dungeons, and More Dungeons that was then brought to life because Stan had thrown their dice, making the infinity sided die to roll out of its case. I enjoyed them sharing their adventure with me as I tried to make sense of my night terrors as Mabel called them.

The following week I helped the twins help Stan run for Mayor of Gravity Falls. I supported him 100% as the Stan I knew back in 1973 would have made a great mayor. I didn’t realise how much he had changed, or what little knowledge he had on politics. Still, I was happy to support him no matter what. After saving the kids, he was elected mayor by getting the birdly kiss from the mayor picking eagle. Little did I know Stan had a very extensive criminal record. I guess people do really change more than you realize.

I knew the adventure this week, though, was going to be interesting. I was fast asleep when all of a sudden I was in the middle of the nightmare realm. I feared it was another nightmare, then suddenly it morphed to where I was standing in the middle of a field.

“Y/n?” I heard Ford’s voice call out.

I turned around and saw him standing there, “Ford?”

“Wh-what are you doing here?”

That’s when we heard the malicious laugh of Bill Cipher. It was no coincidence Ford and I were here. Bill had a plan for us. Big plans.

“Well, well, well, well, well, well, well, well, aren’t you two a sight for sore eye. Stanford Filbrick Pines, my ol’ pal. And, could this be, my sweetheart? Y/n? I think it is.”

“Bill Cipher. What do you want from us?” Ford asked, pulling me behind him.

“Oh quit playing dumb, IQ. You two knew I’d be back. You think shutting down that portal can stop what I have planned. I’ve been making deals, chatting with old friends, preparing for the big day. You can’t keep that rift safe forever. You’ll slip up and when you do…” Bill then shows us a tear leading from our world to the nightmare realm, and I feel like I’m gonna puke.

“Get out of here! You have no dominion in our world!” Ford yelled at Bill, keeping a protective hand on me.”

“Maybe not right now, but things change, Stanford Pines,” Bill’s voice morphs into a creepy deep one, “things change.” He then rises into the tears laughing maniacally.

I shoot up screaming. Scared out of my mind. Bill was coming, and I was utterly terrified. The thought of actually facing Bill scared the shit out of me. Bill was someone I never wanted to actually face ever again. The fact that he appeared to Ford and I meant he was growing stronger and stronger with each passing day. That was the thing that scared me the most.

The next morning I could barely get out of bed. I sat there lost in thought, I was unable to fall back asleep after our meeting with Bill. I heard Ford call for a family meeting and I gathered all the courage I could muster and walked downstairs.

“Y-Y/n? Are you alright?” Ford asked, looking at me concerned.

“I’m scared, worried, I didn’t go back to sleep last night if that’s what you mean.” I stated.

Ford felt terrible I had gotten dragged into this, but little does he know I did it to myself. Bill’s infatuation with us was no coincidence.

“Ooh, mysterious scrolls and potions. Are you going to tell us we’re finally of age to go to wizard school? Is there an owl in this bag?” Mabel asked hopping in a chair and started to go through the bag Ford had on the table.

“No, I assure you if there is an owl in this bag, he’s long dead.” Ford took the bag from her.

Dipper and her sat down as I stood behind Ford. He pulled out a scroll paper and showed it to the kids, “Now, tell me children, do any of you recognize this symbol?” He holds up a scroll with Bill on it.

They both gasp before Dipper speaks, “Bill.”

“Y-You know him?” Ford was shocked, and so was I.

“Know him!? He’s been terrorizing us all summer. I have so many questions and theories.” Dipper spoke frantically.

“Dipper’s been pretty paranoid since Bill turned him into a living sock puppet.” Mabel added.

“The important thing is, we defeated him twice.” Dipper interjected.

“Once with kittens, and once with tickles.”

“It was a lot more heroic than it sounds.”

I looked at Ford concerned about the kids. This was serious, the fact they have faced Bill. It means he now has access to their minds, especially Dipper. Ford looked back at me with the same concerned look.

“The fact you have dealt with Bill is gravely serious.” Ford spoke up.

“So, how do you know Bill?” Dipper questioned. I knew I wasn’t ready to talk about that yet, and I knew Ford wasn’t ready either.

“Y/n and I have encountered many dark beings in our time, Dipper. What matters now is, his powers are growing stronger, and if he pulls off his plans, no one in this family will be safe.”

I wanted to punch Ford for confirming my suspicions. He was never good at comforting, so I don’t blame him entirely, but I didn’t want those to be confirmed. Neither did the kids as they gasped at what Ford just stated.

“Fortunately there should be a way to shield us from his mental tricks.” He unrolls a map onto the table, and grabs a marker, “a way to Bill-proof the shack. All I have to do is place moonstones here, here, here, and here, “he draws circles on the map, “sprinkle some mercury, and let’s see. I always forget the last ingredient.” He flips through Journal 1, “ugh. unicorn hair.”

“That’s not, like, rare, is it?” Dipper asks.

“It’s hopeless. Unicorns reside deep within an enchanted glade, and their hairs can only be obtained by a pure, good-hearted person who goes on a magical quest to find them.”

Mabel began screaming at the top of her lungs. She begged Ford to let her go on this quest to get the hair. Naming everything she has done that proves that she is obsessed with unicorns. Then she mentions that she is probably the most good-hearted person in the room. No one argues with her about that. Ford agrees to let her go, giving her the journal and a crossbow.

“Y/n, you wanna come with me and the girls on this quest?”

“I actually need Y/n here with Dipper and I.” Ford answers before I can say anything.

Mabel shrugs and calls her friends and sets off on the quest for unicorn hair. Ford leads Dipper and I down to the second floor of the basement. A place neither of us have seen yet.

“If we can’t Bill-proof the shack, we’re going to have to do the next best thing. We’re gonna have to Bill-proof our minds.” Ford pulls out a device that strangely looks like a torture device.

Ford begins to turn the machine on and places the metal helmet on Dipper’s head. This must have been the device Ford wanted to use on me a couple weeks ago, but worried my mind would still be vulnerable to his torment because of my dreams.

“So, what is Bill exactly?” Dipper questions.

“No one knows for sure. Accounts differ of his true motivations and origins. I know he is older than our galaxy, and far more twisted.”

“No kidding…” I mumble, still traumatized from my extra time with him in the nightmare realm.

Ford gives a sympathetic look before he continues, “not a physical form, he can only project himself through our thoughts through the mindscape. That’s why he wants this.” Ford holds up the rift, “I dismantled the portal, but with this tear, Bill still has a way into our reality. To get his hands on this rift, he would trick or possess anyone.”

“So how do we keep Bill out of our minds?” Dipper inquired.

“There are a number of ways I personally had a metal plate installed in my head.” Dipper doesn’t believe him, so Ford taps his head proving he does, “but this machine is safer. It will scan your mind, biologically encrypting your thoughts so Bill can’t read them.” Ford switches the screen on, “now, say hello to your thoughts.”

Dipper thoughts play across the screen. Some are interesting, others are utterly embarrassing. I felt bad that his poor thoughts were on display for us.

“By the way, you two never told me what your history with Bill was.”

“Dipper, do you trust us?” Ford asks, and he nods, “then you’ll trust that’s not important. Now, focus. It's time to strengthen your mind.”

The three of us sit there for hours as the machine slowly encrypts Dipper’s thoughts. I look over at Ford who has fallen asleep at his desk. “Must be nice to be able to sleep anywhere…or at all…”

“What’s been going on with you lately by the way? You’re more distant and paranoid, especially today.”

“It’s Bill. He scares the heck out of me. The thought of coming face to face with him in a physical form terrifies me.”

“S-so you had a bad experience with Bill too, huh?”

“I-it wasn’t always like that, Dipper…Bill and I were actually very close…then I got a true peak at what he really wanted…on the other side of my portal…he tortured me…Ford and Stan won’t be happy I am telling you this, but you and Mabel were going to find out eventually…”

“W-Wait, your portal? Y-you didn’t go through with Great Uncle Ford?”

I shake my head, “no…I had made my own. I found an old book in my parents' attic. They used to be Anti-Cipherites, or descendants of some. A group looking to take down Bill. It had an encryption on how to summon him. I did, and that night he appeared to me. He showed me his equation, he tricked me with his flattery, saying I didn’t need school or friends. Helping him would give me everything I ever wanted. Including helping my friend so he could finally go home before his brother left for college….that friend was your Uncle Stan…”

Dipper's eyes widened, “h-how old are you then?”

“Technically 61, but the place I was stuck in has no concept of time, so I never really aged…”

Dipper’s jaw dropped, “s-so you knew Grunkle Stan before he was banned from New Jersey?”

I nodded, “Stan lived with me.”

[wordsaresimple-imnot]

Pen pal's - Bill Guarnere x F!Reader

Summary: Bill's childhood friend and neighbor writes him a letter after Henry is killed. They keep writing each other throughout the war, but following the events after Bastogne Bill sends a final letter that might end their future before it can really start.

Warnings: she/her pronouns, reader goes by childhood nickname, angst (mentions of war & healing from injuries), does have happy ending.

A/N: I have the biggest respect for the real life heroes of WWII (and all other wars, past & current), this work & all other works is based on the actor(s) and character(s) portrayed in the Band of Brothers series.

A/N pt 2: Full transparency, this one sorta got away from me but I let my creative muse take over and here we are. I was sitting on this idea for a minute and honestly, I love how it turned out. Hopefully y'all like it too! Comments, likes, and reblogs please!! Thank you!

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It was two weeks after Henry passed when a letter arrived for Bill. He didn't recognize the handwriting, but he knew the return address by heart. It was the house right next door to his childhood home. His suspicions of who it was from was confirmed once he started reading it.

Billy, I've spent the last week trying to figure out something comforting and eloquent to say but all I can come up with is; I'm so sorry about Henry. I can't imagine how you feel. I can't do much to make you feel better over there but I promise to help your mom and sisters with anything they need. You all have been a second family to me my whole life. I pray you stay safe and come home soon. Pip. P.S. I found this picture in one of my old journals and it made me smile. I hope it can do the same for you.

Bill flipped over the photograph that had been included and did, in fact, smile. It was three young kids laughing at the camera, completely covered in mud. He was pulled from the memory of that day when a hand grabbed the picture away from him.

"Henry, Billy, and me." Luz read the back of the picture out loud before flipping it around. "Who's the girl?"

"None of your business." Bill grabbed the picture back and stuffed it in his breast pocket, sending Luz a glare.

Not being fazed at all, Luz leaned over and skimmed at the letter Bill was still holding. "Billy? Who's Pip? Same girl from the picture?"

"Who made you the new Nixon around here? Fuck off, will ya."

"What's got Gonorrhea's in a twist?" Toye asked as he joined the two of them.

"Got some letter and picture from a girl." Luz wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

"What, girl's not your type anymore?" Toye smirked at Bill.

"Both of you's, shut the fuck up. It's a neighbor I grew up with. She's like family."

"She cute?" Toye asked at the same time Luz said, "Is she single?"

"She's nothing to you two's or I'll break your jaws." With a final glare Bill folded up his letter and walked away. Toye and Luz smirked at each other, knowing this wouldn't be the last time they pissed him off about this mystery girl.

~~

Pip dropped the remaining pieces of mail on the ground and rushed to her room, eager to read the letter addressed to her in messy handwriting. She knew she was smiling like an idiot as she read it, but she didn't care.

Pip, I appreciate you reaching out and taking care of ma and the girls for me. I couldn't ask for anyone better to watch over them. You're picture did make me smile, something I haven't done much of lately. I can still hear our ma's chewing us out over ruining your dress. Said Henry and I were keeping you from being a 'proper lady'. And if I remember correctly your response was you'd be one "when pigs fly". Thanks for reminding me of happy times. Don't be a stranger. Billy.

Two weeks later, another letter arrived.

Pip, I saw a field with some horses in it today and I thought of you. How you always wanted to live just outside the city with some land to have a horse and lots of dogs. I hope you get to have that one day. Maybe I'll come by and visit when you do. Billy

The next day as Pip made to leave the house to drop her response off at the post office, she ran into her mother.

"Where you off to in such a hurry?" The gleam in her eye and glance down at the letter in Pip's hand made it obvious she already knew the answer. Pip decide to play along since she was an only child and her mother needed to fuss over someone now and again.

"Just sending a letter back to Bill." She'd stopped calling him Billy out loud to people, but that's who he'd always be to her.

"Yes, I saw he'd send another letter. His poor mother doesn't even get back to back responses that quick. Lucky girl." She mused, smiling at the blush forming on Pip's cheeks.

"It's not like that, we're just old friends."

"Of course. Well, check with his mother and see if they have any mail to send out along with yours." Pip nodded, gave her mother a kiss on the cheek and practically sprinted out the houses before any more questions or observations could be made.

~~

Bill couldn't figure out why he was so anxious after sending that second letter to Pip. She was just his neighbor, a life long family friend, like a sister... Well, not entirely like a sister. Henry always saw her like a sister, taking her under his wing and becoming the big brother she didn't have. His sisters saw her as an older sister, someone to play dress-up with and get boy advise from. But him...he'd never really seen her as that. She was family, absolutely. But not his sister.

When her response came, he wasn't sure if his anxiety got worse or better as he ripped it open.

Billy, I would have loved to have seen that field (although, maybe not during war time). I'm surprised you remember that, I think we were seven or eight when I came up with that idea. I never told you but I always imagined you'd live right next door to me and we'd see each other everyday, like we always did before this war. No matter where I end up, I'd still like you to visit. Pip

"Another letter from your 'family friend'?" Toye jumped down into the foxhole next to Bill.

"Why you sayin' it like that? She is a family friend. And what do you care who I get letters from?" Bill grumbled, folding his letter up and stuffing it inside his jacket.

"Luz said her name was, Pip. What's that about?" Toye asked, completely ignoring Bill's grumpy mood and response.

Bill gives a loud sigh, knowing that Toye isn't going to drop it and by extension neither will Luz until they've discovered everything to do with her.

"It's a nickname. Short for Pipsqueak. She was always this tiny little following me and Henry around back home."

"Sounds annoying." Toye says offhandedly, looking at his companion out the side of his eye. He see's a small smile form on Bill's face.

"At first, I guess. But honestly, it became so normal I never really thought about not including her in things." There's a long stretch of silence as they keep watch, then Bill speaks again. "She's family, but she's not my sister. Never has been. Does that make sense?"

"Yeah, it does." Toye lights up a cigarette, passing one over to Bill. "Should tell her that someday." Bill doesn't respond, just lights up the cigarette and pulls a long drag from it.

~~

The weeks and months that follow are filled with countless letters sent back and forth. There's no declarations of love or detailed accounts of the war, just two people sharing memories or tidbits about their days.

Pip would fill in the blanks about what was going on with his sister's love lives; who was a bum, who seemed nice, who looked weird. Once she gave him the play by play, as she could remember it, of a dinner at his house with the whole family, her, her mother, and a new beau his sister Marie was dating. His name was Paul, but said to call him Paulie. Pip and his two younger sisters, Bianca and Isabella, were on the verge of giggles all night because his voice sounded so much like a parrot and they wanted to ask him if he wanted a cracker. Then there was the shameful cooking lesson their mom's tried to have with Pip, that resulted in five burned pies.

Bill would tell her about the country side they'd go through and different animals he would encounter. He'd also tell her about the guys and stupid shenanigans they'd get up to. How getting shot in the ass started to become an Easy Company right of passage. When he meets Babe, he tells her about another Philly kid that grew up not far from them and how he's alright. He tells her about a game of darts he played with Babe as his partner, against a George Luz and Buck Compton, saying how they lost but he knows if she'd been his partner they would have won because they always make a great team.

They share memories from their childhood, some including Henry some with just the two of them. When she comes across them, Pip sends old pictures of them for him to have. One he becomes especially fond of is them at 16; they're at the local fair, he's holding a huge teddy bear he's just won above his head with one arm, the other is thrown over Pip's shoulder and she's got her arms wrapped around Isabella's shoulders as the younger girl is standing in front of her. They're all smiling, but only Bill and Isabella are looking at the camera. Pip is looking straight at Bill.

He got a lot of ribbing and questions from the guys when that picture came, but he just told them all to 'fuck off'. By this point it was common knowledge that Bill did, but didn't, have a girl back home. The guys loved to annoy him but truly they were happy he had someone, not all of them did.

Slowly, almost naturally, the letter's started becoming more intimate. Not sexually but emotionally. Greetings went from Dear, to Dearest, then Darling, eventually landing on "My Billy/Pip". Signatures would mix some type of variation of "Love, your Billy/Pip" and "Always yours, Billy/Pip". There still hadn't been any type of declaration of feelings, but they'd often write each other about the future and things they wanted to do or see together. They were always together no matter the plan or idea that popped in their heads about life after this war.

Then one day, in a forest in the dead of winter, everything changed.

It had been months since Bill and Toye were shipped back to the hospital for their surgeries and rehabilitation before getting to go home. Months since he'd last responded to one of Pip's letters. He knew, she knew what had happened as he'd written his ma letting her know he was okay after a telegram went out about his injury from the army. He couldn't stand the idea of her being worried sick about him, not after what happened with Henry.

Pip never mentioned the accident, just kept her letters light and full of the day to day happenings. But they always ended the same way, "P.S. Take your time, I'm here when you are ready and I'll always be yours." Each new letter was like a dagger in his heart. He loved her, so much so that he was planning to ask her to marry him when he thought he'd be going home a whole man. But now, how could he ask her to be with him when he wasn't all she deserved?

One day, he grabbed some paper and a pen and started his own version of a Dear John letter.

~~

Pip was both relieved and terrified when she got a letter from Bill. He hadn't responded since being sent to the hospital to have his injury tended to. When his mother had gotten the telegram, all the army had said was that he was injured and being sent out immediately to their primary hospital. After what happened to Henry, she was in a terrible state so Pip pitched in as much as she could while wanting to breakdown herself. Soon enough a letter from Bill himself came and explained the situation as best he could and what was going on, but ultimately letting his mom and sisters know he was already. They'd all cried together when they read that. She waited weeks but no letter arrived for her. As time went on, she accepted that he needed time to heal and figure things out, so she kept sending him updates on his family and things in town, praying that one of them would trigger some type of response. Now she held one in her hands and she didn't know what it would contain.

Sitting in her room, she opened the letter and with each word felt her heart breaking.

My Pip, I am sorry I have not written. Truthfully, I have not known what to say. I know you must have gotten updates from my ma on my condition and I suppose that was the cowards way of letting you know and again, I am sorry. I didn't think this was how I would be telling you this but, I love you. I'm so damn, madly in love with you it's all I can think about lying here. But I can't keep this going any longer. You deserve someone not scarred, literally and emotionally, from this war and the horrors that have leaked inside me. I want you to have everything you've ever dreamed about. I just can't be the one to give it to you. I will love you till my last breathe. Love you always, Billy

With her letter crumpled in her hands, Pip curled up into her bed and cried until there was nothing left to come out.

~~

Bill knew he should feel lucky. Hell, he was the luckiest damn bastard he knew of right now. He was finally home after being away for years, seeing the worst of human nature, eating a home cooked meal surrounded by his mother and sisters that he'd missed terribly. But there was still a large aching hole in his heart the shape of the girl next door. He'd been home for a month and they'd yet to run into each other. He wasn't sure if he could handle seeing her after the letter he'd sent, but that didn't stop him from praying for just one glance.

His sisters had seen her a few times since he'd been home, but every time he asked how she was they just shot him a glare and changed the subject. They obviously knew enough to have picked her side and he couldn't blame them.

"You're awfully quiet tonight, William." His mother's voice brought him back to the present. "Everything okay?" He suddenly felt like a child again under her critical gaze.

"Yeah, I'm good ma." He slapped on a quick smile, which dropped quickly at hearing Bianca and Isabella snort and cough at the end of the table. "What's up with you two?"

"They're tired of you lying. We all are." Marie sent him a cold look.

"I'm not lying about anything." He clenched his jaw to keep his temper in check. These were his sisters, not the boys, he couldn't react like he wanted.

"Yes, you are. Pip is too. You're both miserable. We see it everyday. Just admit you made a mistake and apologize." Marie turned fully to face him and gave him a look that challenged him to deny any of it.

Before he could say anything, his mother cut in. "Girls, go to your rooms. I wanna speak with William. Go on." She gave them her no nonsense look when they didn't move fast enough. With a few grumbles they all left the room and the silence that over took Bill and her was tense.

"Ma, I don't want to talk about it." Bill sighed, leaning back in his chair.

"You don't have to speak, just listen, yeah? You're my child and when you have a child you pray that they find happiness and have all of their dreams come true. It sounds foolish, but that's the truth. Throughout the years, I've always believed that your happiness lie with Pip and when you started writing each other I knew I was right. Every time she would relay some story you wrote her or say "Bill said this, Bill said that" it was like looking in a mirror to when I first fell for your father. Once you've had a great love, you recognize it in other people. Now, looking at both of you all I can see is myself after your father passed. A sorrow that settles in the bones and your soul and never quite goes away. I know you had the best intentions in mind when you did, what you did, but if it's slowly killing you both inside was it really for the best?"

Bill couldn't bring himself to meet her eyes, too afraid he'd completely break down, so he stared at his plate and fiddled with the table clothe. Eventually his mom got up, gave him a kiss on the cheek and left him alone with his thoughts.

~~

Two days later, Pip stood at the back door of the Guarnere house. She'd promised Bianca she'd help her pick a dress for her upcoming dance and after much back and forth, and almost tears, had agreed to come to their house only because Bianca swore Bill would be gone. As she entered the kitchen, she called out to Bianca but didn't receive an answer. She walked further into the house, heading towards the living room still calling out.

"Bianca? Anybody? Hello? I swear if she stood me up, I'm gonna kill her." Just as she finished her though out loud, she stopped dead in her tracks. In the middle of the room stood Bill on his crutches, holding her favorite flowers in one hand. Every time she opened her mouth to say something, she couldn't think of anything and closed it again. Eventually, Bill broke the silence.

"Don't be mad at Bianca, I bribed her to get you over here. I understand if you don't want to hear anything I have to say and walk out, but if you give me a few minutes I swear you'll never have to see me again if that's your wish." Hesitantly, Pip walked into the living room and followed Bill's lead by sitting on the sofa. Slowly she took the flowers from him and laid them in her lap, meeting his eyes.

"I've been practicing what to say all day, but can't seem to remember a damn thing now." He gave a humorless chuckled, clenching and unclenching his hands to steady himself. "What I did, all of it, is unforgivable. I...All I could think about in that hospital was all the things I wouldn't be able to do with you. All the things I might not be able to give you. I believed I was doing what was right, by pushing you away so you could find someone else. But underneath all of that I was scared too. Scared you'd see me now and think less of me. Would always look at me with pity in your eyes and I'd never be that great man you deserve. Now, I'm scared I've lost the only person that matters. Every day since I sent that letter, and especially since being home, it's felt like a wound is festering inside me and I can't fix it. I know I've hurt you, and I'll never forgive myself for that, but if you can just give me a chance to make it right I'll spend forever making it up to you."

Bill would've given her his beating heart if she asked for it. The longer the silence stretched, the more he was sure she would say goodbye. He held his breathe as one of her hands, shakily raised and cupped his cheek. She had tears in her eyes.

"How could I possibly look at you and think less? You've been everything I ever wanted since we were kids. And now everyone knows what I always knew, that you're a hero and a great man. We've had each other backs for forever, I don't think we should stop now. I don't care if we can't do certain things the way we talked about, we will find new ways to do them. All I want, all I've ever wanted, is you by my side. I'll accept your apology under on condition."

"Anything." His answer was immediate.

"Kiss me." The words were barely out when he pulled her closer to him and pressed his lips to her, firmly and with all the passion he had inside him.

Bonus scene: 6 months later

Everyone seemed to be having a good time; drinks were flowing, people were dancing, and in the corner taking a break from mingling, the bride and groom were sipping champagne and sneaking kisses.

"When can we leave?" Bill mutters, nipping her bottom lip quickly.

"I spent all day getting ready, I'm wearing this dress as long as possible." She half joked, taking a sip from her flute.

"I never said you had to take it off." Bill whispers in her ear, smirking at the blush on her cheeks.

"Control yourself and I'll let you take it off, however you want." She shoots him a wink and then grabs her purse, pulling a small box out of it. "Here, I have a gift for you."

Bill raises an eyebrow, taking the box from her. "What is it?"

"Just open it." She smiles at him.

Bill pulls the top off and pulls out a little figurine, laughing instantly. It's a small pig with wings attached. When pigs fly. He looks back and her and cups her cheek.

"I love you, Mrs. Guarnere."

"I love you, Mr. Guarnere."

[hiramaris]

Dusk Fragments #1

Summary: A night of drinking, a group of friends, and two people returning to town. What could go wrong? Pairings: Jessy x Gender Neutral MC

Note: Had this on my mind for quite a while. This one-shot follows Dusk til Dawn. The timeline isn't clear here.

“I don’t think drinking and partying is such a good idea right now.” Cleo mused against her drink, the condensation on her glass forming tiny beads. She eyed the swirling liquid thoughtfully, her expression pensive. Despite her verbal disagreement, she downed her margarita in one go, barely wincing at the tangy taste.

Dan scoffed at that, knowing fully well where this conversation was going. “It’s been months. No one died. What better way to celebrate than being wasted?”

Lilly, seated next to Cleo, leaned forward, her gaze serious. “Hannah and Richy are still under court-ordered psychiatric evaluation and treatment,” Lilly emphasizes as if everyone has forgotten that fact. “Y/n and Jake are nowhere to be seen. So, I don't think these counts for a celebration.”

Jessy froze at the mention of your name, her hand pausing in mid-air as she played with her Mimosa.

For months, she had tried not to let your name linger in her mind for longer than necessary. It still hurts to think about you. Despite the fact that Agent Hartmann– Charlotte, Jessy corrected herself, already explained everything, it did nothing to quell the pain she was feeling.

Because why couldn’t you just tell them all those things yourself? Why couldn’t you just come back?

“But did they die?”

“Dan!” Cleo admonishes him.

“What?” He shrugged as he plucked a chilled martini glass from the shelf. “I’m just saying,” he continued as he went back to face them and to prepare Lilly’s drink. “Out of all the possible worst-case scenarios, we managed to get the best one. I’m not saying y’all need to trash out and get wasted, but I don’t think Y/n did all this for us to just sulk in our homes forever. We deserve this after all the hell each of us went through.”

“That’s true,” Phil popped out beside him, placing another Mimosa in front of Jessy despite the redhead's protest. “I never thought I’d get out of that stinky place they called prison after a certain someone” he eyed Dan accusingly, a smug smirk on his face “testified against me. So, drink up! Celebrations are in order!”

“For the love of— I already said sorry!” Dan yells at Phil’s retreating form, his voice drowning from the music reverberating around the Aurora bar.

“Sorry won’t cut it, Pal! You still have 6 months left of voluntary work before you get your wage!” Phil shouted back in a sing-song voice before disappearing into the stockroom.

“He won’t ever live it down, y’know?” Jessy allows herself to smirk at Dan’s guilty face. The man got an earful from her when she learned about what he did. If she were the same person as before, she would have never forgiven him but she’s a changed person now. At least that’s what she likes to think. Dan means well despite his impulsivity.

“I know,” Dan grumbled as he placed Lilly’s cosmopolitan in front of her.

The blonde eagerly sips her drink, humming in satisfaction, her body slightly swaying to the music. “Fuck it, I guess we do deserve to lose out a little.” Lilly perks up when ‘Streets’ begins blasting from the bar's speakers. The lights turned a deep hue of red as if to accentuate the mood of the song. “Oh my god! I love Doja Cat! Come, Cleo. Let’s dance!”

Cleo had no choice but to finish off her drinks before allowing the youngest Donfort to drag her to the nearest dance floor.

“She’s getting drunk,” Thomas commented quietly as he observed them.

“Oh, Lilly? Let her.” Dan leans a bit on the counter. “What about you, Tommy? What can I get for you? You’ve been awfully quiet since you came here.”

“I don’t think it’s such a great idea. Someone needs to be sober around here.”

Dan chuckles at that. “Still a wimp,” he teased. “Don’t worry. I don’t plan to drink tonight. Not until Y/n comes back to keep their promise and buy me a drink. I’ll keep an eye on her.”

“Fine.” Thomas sighed. “After what happened I guess I need a hard drink. Give me some Negroni.”

“Right away, sir.”

Jessy waited for Dan to get away from earshot to get some vermouth from the stock room before addressing Thomas. “Have she talked to you, yet?”

Thomas pursed his lips, his gaze shifting to the swirling liquid in Jessy’s glass. He took a moment to gather his thoughts before responding, his voice tinged with a sense of longing.

“Not since… that day.” He went quiet for a moment before speaking again. “I miss her, a lot.” He admitted. “But I’m trying to understand her. What happened was shitty. I don’t think 6 months of treatment would suffice to get over a trauma.”

“Any news about their development?”

Thomas sighed, his gaze distant as he delved into the subject. “Well… she’s starting to at least connect with her family. Lilly says it’s just about trivial matter and Hannah seems to be avoiding the topic being discussed just yet. About Richy…” he trailed off. “he’s doing okay, I guess. I talked to him a little while ago and he said he was truly sorry about what happened.”

“Do you… forgive him?” Jessy questions tentatively, her gaze fixed on Thomas, searching for his thoughts on the matter.

Thomas swallowed, fists curling into a fist. “I do. He’s my friend.” He met her eyes, his own ones going mist. “It’s just quite difficult to forget what he had done.”

“I know…” Jessy murmured, her tone reflective, finally downing her first mimosa. The contrasting flavors of bitterness, sweetness, and tanginess played against her tongue, much like the conflicting emotions she was feeling. “Richy doesn’t want to talk to us. I tried to… y’know but he pushed me away.”

“He was afraid. He doesn’t trust himself around you girls.”

“Oh,” was all that Jessy could say.

Maybe you and Richy have a lot more in common than she expected.

Like making decisions for everyone instead of asking them directly. She doesn’t get why both of you chose to keep everything to yourselves.

“Y/n,” Thomas suddenly says. “Do you still think of them?”

“Every day,” she found herself whispering. “I don’t think I had ever stopped.”

“Wow, I just went away for a minute or two and everything suddenly got sentimental.” Dan’s voice joined the conversation. He raised an eyebrow at the two as he began to mix Thomas’ drinks.

“It’s nothing!” Jessy tried to laugh, shoving her empty glass towards Dan. “I want another Mimosa. I’ll be back. I just need to go to the bathroom for a sec.”

“Hey! You still have a full glass of Mimosa here!” Dan calls back to her, but Jessy continues to her destination, brushing through sweaty bodies. She really needs to pee.

More importantly…

She also needs to cry.

Damn it. This is what she’s talking about. Just give her a couple of seconds to think of you and then no more than later her eyes turn into a waterwork.

“Jessy?” Well, that’s a voice that sounds familiar.

She whirls on the spot, and she has little time to even out her voice to mask her surprise. “Alica?”

Luckily, she managed to do it.

Because never in those three years, she has expected to see Alica Roth in the arms of her ex-boyfriend, Norman White.

It took all self-control for Jessy not to give any sort of reaction. What she told you was true. She never made an effort to know whom her ex had cheated her with due to fear of actually knowing who that person might be.

And just her luck, it seemed Alica was the person Norman fucked while being in a relationship with her.

“Oh, hi!” She put on a tight-lipped smile at the two. “I didn’t know that you two…” she tried to laugh. “How long?” She just wanted to know if her theory was true.

Norman has the audacity to look so smug about it, pulling the girl closer to him by the hip as if to rub salt in her wounds. Not that there’s any wound to begin with.

“Two years,” he answers with his typical boyish grin that Jessy used to swoon at. Well, not anymore.

And two years? He was still dating Jessy at that time!

This piece of crap really did cheat on her with Alica, and they even have the decency to flaunt it right on her face. Alica is no better; she knew Jessy was in a relationship with him and yet she allowed Norman to pursue her.

“I heard about what happened. I’m really sorry about Hannah and Richy.” Alica mentions, and Jessy doesn’t know if the girl is even genuine about it. “It must have been stressful for you guys.”

“It was.”

Norman straightened out, his arms falling from his side. “Well, you certainly didn’t look stressed at all,” he eyes her up and down unabashedly. “I mean don’t get me wrong. I know you are but what I was trying to say was you look as dashing as ever.” He finished his babbling with a grin.

Alica raised an eyebrow at his comment before turning her attention back to Jessy with the most faux smile she had ever seen in her life.

“He’s such a sweet guy, right? Always thoughtful with girls even if he already has a girlfriend.”

If she wasn’t sure before, Jessy is sure as hell that’s definitely sarcastic now.

“Oh, I know.” Jessy’s smile was just as fake.

“Of course,” as oblivious as ever, Norman beamed. “I even chatted that Y/n when Lilly posted about that video. Because y’know, I don’t like it when women get hurt.”

Jessy furrows her brows at that. What’s that even supposed to mean?

And wait, what?! He had chat Y/n which means he was one of the locals who harassed Y/n!

“Hey, y’all. I heard my name so would you mind if join in?”

****

“Do you think this is a good idea, Y/n?”

You turned to Jake, a smug smirk dancing across your lips. “Well, considering the last mission you need to do in order to grant your defection to the Agency has gone very well, I don’t see the problem in going back here. Plus,” your grin widens. “You have to be here. I don’t want Lilly to kill me so you have to protect me against her wrath.”

Jake chuckles at that. “You just took down twelve men just a couple of hours ago, and you mean to tell me you are afraid of Lilly?”

“It’s different,” you retorted, parking the car in the designated place Phil had made for you. You closed the door shut. Jake follows you after. From here you can already hear the music blasting inside. And judging from the disco lights you’re seeing peeking from the gates; you knew this is going to be one hell of a night.

“How do I look?” you turned to Jake as you tried to brush off imaginary specks of dust from your shirt. Not that it would make any difference. The glaring bruise on your cheek and a cut to the lip wouldn’t go unnoticed anyway.

“Like you just went on a mission.”

“I’m going to tell Aerith to dump your ass.” You narrowed your eyes at him. You couldn’t see his whole face because of his mask but you didn’t miss the way he rolled his eyes at you. “Hey, I saw that!”

Jake just shook his head and pushed you inside– forcefully.

“Just go inside and go restore your love life.”

The stench of alcohol and sweat greeted your nostrils and you didn’t bother to hide the look of pure disgust on your face, The lights were off inside but the illumination coming from the disco lights created a swirling pattern of abstract forms that gracefully blended with– is that ‘streets’?!

And is that Lilly dancing with Cleo?! If you can even call that dancing.

You snorted at the sight. The blonde’s probably drunk but Cleo looks sober enough which made this whole thing funnier. The poor girl was so embarrassed with her friend.

“I didn’t know Lilly was a fan of Doja Cat.” You couldn’t help but laugh at the idea.

You could have sworn you saw Jake’s eye twitch at the sight of his sister dancing in the middle of the dance floor with men trying to dance with her only to be pushed away by Cleo.

Not long after, Jake pushed his way through the crowd and towards his sister. You can only wish the men around Lilly good luck because a pissed Jake is someone you wouldn’t want on your plate– ever.

Shaking your head, you made your way towards the bar without any announcement when your eyes spotted those familiar beards from miles away and Thomas’ signature beanie.

“What’s cooking, good looking?”

“Y/n?!” Thomas almost spat his drink on a very unsuspecting Dan.

You thought that was the funniest thing you have ever seen but looking at Dan, it was your turn to choke on your own spit. The man looked like he saw a ghost with the way his eyes widened.

“Thanks for accepting my invitation, Y/n.” Phil wraps his arm around you. Taking you away from the bar, much to Dan’s dismay.

“Hey! I was talking to Y/n!”

Phil only gave him the finger, laughing. “Sorry, pal but we got customers.”

Dan could only grumble in annoyance as a group of rowdy teenagers came stumbling on the bar, leaving his hands full at the moment.

“You looked like you just came from a fight,” he commented as he guided you towards a corner. The music in this spot had mellowed, allowing both of you to talk in a normal voice. “I assume you won as always.”

“Won’t you know it?” You grinned. “I suppose free drinks are in order tonight?”

“Maybe,” he smirked. “Is that any way to talk to your brother-in-law?”

Your smile falters a bit. It’s been 6 months of radio silence. The last time you talked to her was when you left. You barely said goodbye. You barely gave any reassurance.

How could you though? How can you look at someone you love so much and tell yourself it’s time to go?

Would she still want you after all this time? Would she even want to talk to you?

“Is she mad at me?” You questioned quietly. The million-dollar question.

Phil noticed your apprehension, quirking an eyebrow at you. “Do you think I’ll invite you here if she hates you?”

“I mean if the invitation is out of spite, it is possible.”

He laughed. “You might want to get your head checked out, L/n. Unless you have a major concussion then you’re probably crazy to even be convinced that the kindest person in Duskwood hates your guts. Of course, she loves you shitless.” He took both of your shoulders, shaking you as if to take away those thoughts. “Listen, I didn’t just invited you here just to show gratitude for bailing me out. This is also me paying my sister back for all the shitty things I’ve done to her.”

His gaze suddenly flickered behind you, his grin coming back.

“Make my little sister happy, okay?” Without warning he pushed you forward. But not without whispering. “That’s her ex, Norman. Punch him in the face for me. Tata!”

You felt the world seemed to freeze before you when you finally saw her.

Ever since you came here you pretend to look around. You wanted to convince yourself that you’re just familiarizing yourself with your surroundings but the truth is…

I’m actually looking for you.

You can feel your chest starting to ache again. A frequent occurrence whenever you think of her. But seeing her again after all this time gives you a different kind of pain.

You find yourself walking towards her. Somehow, you’re thankful she has her back on you because it gave you a bit of time to prep yourself to face the redhead.

“He’s such a sweet guy, right? Always thoughtful with girls even if he already has a girlfriend.”

Your eyebrows raised when you finally got an earshot to the conversation Jessy was having with these people.

“Oh, I know.” Even with her back on you, you can notice Jessy was visibly tense. You frowned. Clearly, she’s uncomfortable. Just who the hell are these people?

“Of course,” the guy with a face you didn’t like boasted. So, this is the ex, huh? “I even chatted that Y/n when Lilly posted about that video. Because y’know, I don’t like it when women get hurt.”

“Hey, y’all. I heard my name so would you mind if join in?” That was the time you decided to swoop in.

You casually grab Jessy by the waist, far away from her so-called ex who doesn't seem to know how to read the room.

Telling by the lack of flinch, you know Jessy already knows it was you. If she was surprised at your sudden appearance after months of radio silence, she didn’t show it.

You put yourself between them. All the while, Norman looks a bit startled at your sudden presence. He was taken aback. He slowly backed away when he noticed your piercing gaze focused on him.

“It would be kind of rude to talk behind my back, right?” You went on. Flashing them a charming smile. You turn to Jessy, kissing her cheek. “Anyway, Dan sent me to tell you your Mimosa is good to go, babe.”

She kissed your cheek back, right across your bruise as if to tell you it didn’t go unnoticed by her. “Of course, love. Thank you!”

You fight a flush beginning to emerge on your cheeks at the endearment. But you find yourself not even trying to as the next words uttered by the woman in front of you were enough for you to grimace.

“Oh, my. I wasn’t informed you have such a hot company there, Jessy.” You could have sworn the woman batted her eyelashes at you unabashedly, making the ‘ex’ bristle next to her.

Jessy feigns a smile as she rests her head against your chest, “this is Norman and this is his girlfriend, Alica. Guys, this is my partner, Y/n.”

Norman held out his hand, “Nice to meet you.”

“Likewise, Normy.” You smiled, ignoring the wince on his face as you might have gripped his hand a little too hard.

“It’s a-actually Norman, not Normy.” He corrected with a strained smile.

“You’re the same Normy who harassed me on the phone right?” You raised an eyebrow, your gaze challenging.

“N-no. I…” he stuttered pathetically, making you grin wider.

“Call me Ali, dear.” Alica made a move to kiss your cheek and was about to do another one, but Jessy pulled you back to her, eyes openly glaring now. The blonde didn’t seem to care as she commented, “you smell good, and that bruise looks hot.”

You were quick to wipe off the kiss from your cheeks, not even bothering to hide it from Alica. You’re not entirely sure what was Jessy’s history with her aside from Normy here. But what you’re sure of is your girlfriend has a massive jealous streak.

You have come to know that for the first week you have known her. And if blonde here has known Jessy far more than you have, then she better know that the redhead is ready to bury her alive right now.

“What the fuck is that, Ali?” Norman was the first to react, glaring at you and his girlfriend.

“Chill out, hon. I was just–“

“We’re leaving.” Jessy cuts off curtly, pulling you away from the scene. She stopped in what you assumed to be a hallway to the comfort room. Pulling out a handkerchief and a bottle of alcohol, she began to dab the piece of cloth to your cheeks. “I’m going to kill her.”

You laughed quietly, “I bet you do.”

She furrowed her eyebrow but remained quiet as she finished the job. She even sprayed her perfume on your shirt as if to wipe any trace of the blonde in you. Or she’s probably marking you. Or both. In any case, you didn’t mind.

Your heart pounded as you raised your hands to cup her cheeks. Your thumb begins to stroke her cheek in a delicate manner, and your eyes wander around her face. You are now faced with the woman you have badly missed to the point it physically gives you pain just by thinking about it. You took your time to admire her face, now up close for the first time in how many months of not seeing it.

She looked a bit thinner. Up close, you can see the effects of the situation that fell upon her— the bags under her eyes due to spending sleepless nights and the worry lines starting to form on her forehead. But in your eyes, you have never seen such beauty. She still looked beautiful, nonetheless. She was still your Jessy.

“Sorry,” you murmured. You didn’t emphasize what for. Do you even need to?

Sorry for leaving. Sorry for keeping you in the dark. Sorry for hurting you.

But none of those came close to what left your lips.

“Sorry, I let her kiss me. I shouldn’t have–”

The laugh that escaped her lips was soft and rich. Her breath tingled against your cheeks as she leaned her forehead against yours, her arms secured around your neck. You knew then that she knows what you were apologizing for and it’s sure as hell not about letting Alica kiss you.

“Apparently, that woman just really likes stealing people I love. I suppose you’re not an exemption.”

“Hmm, so she was the girl.” It wasn’t a question, but rather a realization.

“Uhuh.” Jessy is a lot closer now, lips barely an inch that if you leaned a little closer you would be kissing her. Her fingers played with the baby hairs at the back of your neck making your breath hitched. And judging by the little smirk on her lips, you knew damn well she knows her effect on you. “I’m still mad at you.” She whispers and you note the faint smell of alcohol on her breath.

“I know.” You whispered just as quietly. “Let me make it up to you.”

“How so?” A dashing smirk spreads across her features, and for a moment, your eyes drift mindlessly toward her unsuspecting lips, loving the way they curl up in a low grin. At this point, the resistance to kiss her lips would probably be a battle already lost.

So you did.

You pecked her cheeks first, another one on the corner of her mouth, and then the other one for good measure. Peppering her kisses nonstop if you could. She can only laugh softly at your antics, loving the attention you give her.

And because your always motto is "to save the best for last" you took your precious time laying a long, slow kiss full on her lips. Her hands were eager to mess with your hair, deepening the kiss. You can feel the heat rising on your skin, her touches leaving trails of fire.

Not satisfied with the proximity, you pulled her closer. You even made your way to flip your positions, now pinning the redhead against the wall and a solid chest.

Her grip on your shirt tightens in such a way that she wants to pull it off you. At the back of your mind, you were aware that someone could walk in on you two almost eating each other's faces but you're usually clumsy brain was now foggier than you could remember as you were so busy latching your mouth against her neck and feeling Jessy tilting them to the side to give you better access. Her scent, warmth, and kisses consume you ent—

“Y/n?” You and Jessy froze. That was Phil’s voice!

The urgency in his voice was enough to cleanse your hazy mind, and without the overwhelming thoughts about your girlfriend which you may not guarantee wouldn't go past what is deemed to be inexplicit, you can now hear his voice clearer against the blasting music.

You only got a few seconds to detach yourself from a disappointed and irritated Jessy and fix your hair which she seems to love to mess with.

Despite the initial annoyance, the redhead still managed to have the audacity to flash you an amusing grin as she couldn't take her eyes off your already swollen lips, seemingly satisfied with her creation. And it's not like she's any better.

Sure, her hair's fine, but her lips are a bit bruised, too and there are patches of redness forming on the side of her neck courtesy of your mouth.

When Phil finally arrived inside the room, you managed to act like you were fixing your hair whilst Jessy was trying to fix her lipstick. From his point of view, it looks like you two were having the usual conversation and not shoving each other’s tongues down your throats five seconds ago.

"Did I interrupt something?" He questioned smugly, wanting to tease you but you weren't having any of it. You were too flustered to even function properly now.

"No," was Jessy’s quick reply, not trusting you to answer. She barely managed to hide her smile behind her own mirror.

Phil looks like he doesn’t believe that obvious lie and was excited to turn to you. "Man, you should have seen the pussy-ass bitch Normy and his girlfriend arguing at the parking lot. He was like ‘why the fuck did you kissed a random stranger?’ and Alica was like ‘Is it my fault Y/n is hot?’ and then he was like–" He wasn't able to continue his story as Jessy’s glare was so sharp, that it can dissect a living creature.

Her eyebrows were raised to the fullest and her gaze was unwavering, challenging her own brother to continue his story to the extent that she wouldn’t like where it would head.

If your blood earlier had rushed towards your cheeks, it now had drained the color on your face and you're practically choking on your own spit for the second time this night.

"– and I just want to say your drinks are ready. That's all." He finishes lamely.

You knew that's not what he was trying to say, but to save his life and maybe yours from the redhead’s wrath, he knew better than to continue his story.

"Oh, and Y/n?" You perked up from your sudden faux interest to the flickering sign of the comfort room down the hallway. Phil’s smirk returned full blast. "You got a little something here,” he motioned his fingers to his lips. “See you!"

Your hand flew faster than when Phil bolted out to grab Jessy’s mirror.

And to your horror, a thin line of smeared lipstick was visible at your bottom lip. It wasn’t noticeable enough to catch someone’s attention, but it is sure as hell noticeable enough for the likes of Phil. And he wouldn’t need to put two and two together to even know what you were doing earlier with his sister.

Jessy’s laughter came rumbling across your chest as she pulled you closer again.

And boy, you were right.

Tonight’s going to be a long night.

But you wouldn’t have it any other way.

[sanjisprincesswifey]

Shanks and a female reader. Prompt 13. He’s a cocky asshole in front of the person you’re trying to trick and you find it oddly charming. That is all. Thank you. 👀

note: anon, what i just read was a genuine description of shanks but as you wish! hope this was as annoyingly cocky as you wanted lol (✿◠‿◠)

♡: female reader. 600+ words. sfw content.

“don’t look now, but he’s here,” your friend warns in your ear, gesturing to the man who’s staring at you from across the bar. 

immediately panicking, you begin to look around for a way out. the crowd of sweaty, dancing bodies is compact and wouldn’t release you any time soon. “fuck, what do i do?” you question, beginning to worry that your friends would be put in danger too. 

your friend looks around the club until she notices a man with red hair staring at the both of you. “i have an idea,” she mumbles as she whispers her plan in your ear. 

for a second you stare at her like she’s crazy, but when the man who you’ve been avoiding starts to make his way over, you don’t really have a choice. 

pushing through the bodies to the man at the bar, he smirks down at you, giving you a swift brow raise. 

“what can i do for a pretty little thing like you?” he wonders. 

the line alone almost has you rolling your eyes, but to save yourself some time you yank his head down to be leveled with you. “could you pretend to be my boyfriend for a minute?” you plea, motioning your head to the man who had his eyes obviously locked on the both of you. 

“sure thing, i’m shanks,” he agrees, way too quick in your opinion. 

“y/n,” you mention, keeping one arm hooked around his neck, while his own snakes around your waist. 

“well if you’re my girl, you need to be treated right,” he affirms, ordering you a drink and handing it to you. you stare at the glass with amusement, noticing the familiar color. 

“how did you know my favorite drink?” you question. 

“lucky guess, but hey looks like that guy is coming over here. we should really seal the deal so don’t slap me for doing this, okay?” 

before you can detest, he leans down and presses his lips to yours. the stubble on his face scratches your skin and you can taste the alcohol on his breath from having been drinking all night long. but none of it matters as you can’t help but go back in for more when he tries to pull away.

suddenly, there’s a tap on your shoulder as you freeze in shanks’ grip and shanks stares blankly at the guy. 

“there a problem here? don’t be touching my girl pal,” shanks warns, hugging you closer to him. you can feel the hair on his bare chest where his collared shirt had been buttoned down, your fingers tracing over the muscled lines as if you were in a trance. 

“yeah, she used to be mine,” his voice is wavering and it brings you joy to hear his so scared, instead of the other way around for once. 

“well now she’s mine, and don’t bother us again. i wouldn’t mess with me if i were you.” shanks reveals a sword on his hip and you feel relief wash over you as you see the color drain from his face as he runs away. 

you sigh, relieved and hopeful that he would be gone for good now. shanks’ grip eases on you, but continues to rest lazily on your hip. 

“you okay? need me to take you home or something?” he offers. you glance over to your friend who is gesturing to the bartender as if he was going to take her home. 

“actually,” you start, keeping a hand on his exposed skin and dragging your fingers up to cup his chin. “i was hoping it would be the other way around.” 

the look that followed was more than enough indication that the answer was yes. 

likes, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated! (✿◠‿◠)

[callsigndragon]

Tasting the Ashes | Ch. 36: The night we lost it all ✍️📲

Word count: 2.5k

warnings: alcohol, mention of babies (duh), gINA (deserves a warning), cute stuff and the angst starts here pals.

A/N: WE'RE BAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACK. okay okay i have this story P L A N N E D to the minimum, i'm just struggling to find time to actually sit down and finishing it- but we're getting there heheh

Also if anyone wants to be added to the tag list to not miss any chapter (we're on the final part, babes) let me know in the comments!

masterlist

It doesn’t take long for the guys to get to the pub, all eager and excited to spend a night celebrating the arrival of the two younger Bradshaws. The place invites people to feast with its dim light and cozy atmosphere; it’s the place they go when the Hard Deck is closed. 

Bradley approaches the bartender, ordering a round of beer for all his family. Beers keep coming, all gathering around a joyful Bradley and a teary-eyed Goose. One is delighted by this new stage of his life, not only as Carole and JJ’s father, but also as Hen’s future partner. The other one can't believe that he’s finally a grandfather. He really thought this day would never come. 

Once all of them have beers in their hands, they stand in a circle around Bradley, raising them and toasting for the new dad and the new babies of the family. 

“We’re gonna be doing this again in a month once Maeve is born?” Bob jokes, patting Jake’s back. 

The soon-to-be dad for the second time only smiles, sighing happily. “Man, I can't wait to hold my little princess.” 

Bradley laughs, knowing that feeling. Even though Jake is a father already and loves Liam with his whole soul, that feeling of wanting to have your newborn is so bad that you have to keep waiting for a bit longer... That’s a feeling they're always going to have. Even though they are dads already. 

Not that Bradley is thinking about having more babies. 

"I'm fearing for whoever gets close to Maeve when she's older," Bradley jokes while placing an arm over Jake's shoulders. "That poor girl won't be able to date until she's in her thirties." 

"It hasn't even been born yet, don't talk about dating!" Jake whines at the image of his own future. 

"Well, let's forget about that and have fun!" Mickey says. And before the group dissolves into smaller ones, Bradley clears his throat, catching everyone's attention. 

"I have… some news to share with you." 

Reuben leaves his beer on a nearby table, reading himself for the news that, most likely, will flip the family's world upside-down. After all, there's been a tendency for that since Red showed up in their lives. "What is it, Rooster?" 

Bradley’s grin couldn't be bigger when he announces the recent news. "Hen has finally given me a chance! We're going out on a date once her c-section is healed." 

Goose fist bumps proudly and laughs in his very own fashion. “I knew she was the one for you, son.” 

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. It’s just a date.” 

Jake smirks, licking his lips before teasing Bradley. “The last date brought us here, to celebrate the birth of your two kids.” 

“It wasn’t even a date.”

“Then only God knows what can result from that date.” Ice quips, earning a smack in the head from Slider. “Well, old glories. Let’s go play some pool.” 

“You still know how to do that, Admiral?” Mav raises a defiant eyebrow while chuckling. 

“Prepare yourself, captain. I’m going to beat your ass.” 

Bradley and Jake watch as the old men leave for the pool table. Those four hadn’t been able to have a proper conversation in years and now? Now they have so much catching up to do. And all of them are really happy that the problem is finally solved. 

Mickey, Bob, and Rooster leave to play some darts. And Jake, Reuben, and Javy, as designated drivers, stay behind and watch them have a fun time. 

Gina’s plan starts right now. She had been following Rooster all day, and hoped to approach him once he was left alone. But this stupid family is like a package deal, you want one? You have to get them all. 

And that’s not making her job easy. 

Lucky for her, once they reach the pub and after their initial toast, they all split into smaller groups. Two of them accompany Rooster to play darts. Mickey and Bob, if she can remember correctly. Gina had been following them long enough to know their names. 

The wizzos play darts while Bradley sits on a stool, looking at his phone. 

It’s the moment she’s been waiting for. 

Smoothing her black dress, she walks to the table, drink in hand, with a seductive smile plastered on her face. “Here alone?”

Rooster doesn’t even raise his eyes from the phone, watching videos of his babies. “No, I’m with my family.” 

Gina notices the empty beer, and sees an opportunity to make conversation. “Can I get you anothe–?” 

Rooster leaves his phone for a second, frowning and annoyed because who dares to disturb him? “Look, you seem like a nice girl, so I’m going to be direct. I have someone waiting for me at home, and I am not interested.” 

And with that, Rooster gets up and walks to the bar to get himself another beer. 

Gina starts to panic as she sees her plan crumbling before her eyes. But then, she realizes that not everything is lost yet. If she can't have Hen's man... she can have her friend.

Mickey turns the dart between his fingers, feeling the rugged surface of the barrel on his fingertips. He has come to a realization: Jinx won’t be able to give him what he wants, so he needs to stop trying, and stop forcing her to take a step in a direction she doesn’t want to. 

It’s time to move on. 

“Mickey, I can hear the wheels in your head turning from here,” mentions Bob while lowering his arm. He was ready to throw the dart, but his friend’s silence was bothering him a bit. “What’s going on?” 

“I’m gonna move on, Bob.” 

“What do you mean?” 

Mickey leaves the dart in Bob’s hand, sighing. “It’s time to get over Jinx.” 

Bob sits down next to him, his dart game long forgotten. “Are you sure? Didn’t Red say that she cared about you in the way you wanted?” 

Drumming his fingers on the table, Mickey looks at his friend. “She’s been having anxiety attacks again... She told me that it wasn’t because of me, but I definitely triggered them. I can’t allow that.”

“Mickey, you two should sit down and talk about all this. In person, not over text.” 

“I don’t know, Bob... I think it’s time to stop.” 

And as if the universe was agreeing with him, he sees a gorgeous blonde girl standing behind them, alone with her whiskey. She raises her eyes, making eye contact with Mickey, before offering him an inviting smile. She wants him to approach her. 

Bob looks at the exchange happening before him, frowning at how his friend seems to have made up his mind already. Is he going to pursue the first girl he sees as a rebound? Judging by the way he gets up and walks to the blonde woman, that’s exactly what he’s going to do. 

Bob shakes his head, and goes to sit with Rooster. Whatever Mickey is going to do, Bob knows that he doesn’t want to be involved with it.

Ten minutes. 

That’s how long it takes Gina to slide her tongue into Mickey’s mouth. Bob and Rooster can’t believe what they’re seeing, and even though both of them are deceived by the wizzo’s actions, Mickey and Jesse are not official. He’s not cheating on her. 

But it kind of feels like it. 

Rooster can’t stand the image anymore and leaves to talk with Jake, Mav, and Goose. Once he’s near, Goose claps his hand slowly, ready to tease his son. “Have you stopped looking at pics of your kids?”

Bradley laughs, placing a hand on his chest. “Have you seen them? They’re so cute! I can’t stop looking at them.” 

Jake shakes his head, taking a sip from his soda. “Remember when you told me how whipped I was the day after I saw Liam? Now you get it.” 

Rooster remembers that conversation like it was yesterday. He can’t believe Red has been in their lives for a year already. It feels longer. “Yeah, now I get it. Man, if something happens to those kids…” 

“Nothing will happen to them. They’re safe with us. But whoever tries to get close to them will unleash the fury of the female family members.” Maverick jokes, patting Jake’s shoulder. “And I’m actually talking about your wife.” 

“She’s the most badass woman I’ve ever seen,” Jake’s soft smile makes Mav laugh. He’s happy for his son and for all the things he’s accomplished, and he's proud of how he was almost completely alone a year ago and now is getting ready to prepare for a wedding with the love of his life and his two kids. 

“You two have come so far… I’m sure Goose thought that Bradley was a lost cause, too.” 

“Hey!” 

Goose tilts his head, admitting that Mav is right. “I mean… yeah. I thought you would end up alone.” 

Bradley scoffs, sitting down and getting another beer. “Thanks for the trust, dad.” 

“Any time, son!” 

The four men laugh, relishing the moment. It’s not everyday that they have something as beautiful to celebrate as the arrival of two new babies. They all know, deep down, that this happiness won’t last long. There’s someone out there threatening their dear Hen. The four men are ready to do whatever it takes to protect her. 

Maverick is her father. Nobody will touch her as long as he’s alive. 

Jake is her brother. He has finally gotten the family he craved so much, and nobody is going to take it away from him. 

Goose is the grandfather of Carole and JJ. His once small family is growing up, and he won’t let anyone risk that. 

And Bradley… Hen is the missing piece in his puzzle. The woman who, knowing the brokenness of his soul, is willing to love him. He will do whatever it takes to make sure she and the babies are safe. 

Nobody will touch Hen Mitchell. 

“...would you hate me if I left?” Bradley questions shyly. The three men laugh and shake their heads. 

“How much did you drink?” Jake asks in return before giving him the car keys. 

“Only a beer and a half. I've been trying to get you all drunk so I could sneak away and go see my girl and the babies.” He confesses, opening his hand. 

Jake leaves the keys in Rooster’s open palm and laughs. “Goose, you owe me ten.” 

“Will you stop making bets on me?” Bradley fakes annoyance while pulling a bunch of bills and hands them to Jake. “Pay their drinks for me, will ya?” 

“Aye aye, Lt.”

Bradley turns around to leave, watching as Mickey and that girl are still sucking faces. “Don’t want to know how that ends.” 

Jake, who was still unaware of Mickey’s current activities, almost drops the bills in his hand. He can’t see the girl’s face, but Mickey seems to be enjoying his time with her.  “Oh my fucking God.” 

“What now?” Mav groans, leaving his beer on the bar. 

“Jesse is coming here to confess to Mickey.” 

“She what?” Goose exclaims, watching the two lovebirds. He has her pressed against one of the pillars at the back of the bar, hands placed on her hips, while she grabs him by the back of his neck, pulling him as close as possible. They can’t see her face due to the angle, but one thing is for sure. 

She is nothing compared to Jesse. 

“I’m gonna leave. I don’t want to see the drama.” Bradley mutters, raising his hands in defeat, and leaves the bar. 

Jake gets his phone from his pocket and quickly dials Jesse’s number. But she doesn’t answer. Jake texts her, telling her to answer the phone, to text him, but she must be driving. There's no way he can reach her. 

Maybe he can wait for her out the bar, stop her from coming in. "Pops, I'm gonna wait for Jinx outside. She doesn't deserve to see this." 

"Yeah, you do that. I'll try to make Mickey leave through the back door." Mav offers, and when both men are about to walk their separate ways, they see Jinx standing a few feet away from them… her whole face contorted in pure horror once she realizes that she was too late. 

She has lost Mickey. 

"Jake, go." Maverick pushes him in her direction, and Jake gives them the money Bradley had given him before, knowing well that he won't be coming back. 

"Jake…" Jesse whimpers when she sees his friend, as tears run down her face. 

"Hey, it's okay. It's okay, honey. Let's get you home," mutters Jake while softly pushing her out of the pub. 

"I-I can't go home. What if he takes that girl home to fuck her?" 

Jake sighs, knowing that she's right. "We'll go to my home, okay?" 

"Tell me I'm dreaming, please. Just tell me this is a nightmare." She says, bursting into tears. Jake hugs her and leads her to his car, no way he's letting her ride her bike all the way home in such a state. 

Once she's sat down and the seat belt is secured, Jake closes the door and calls his wife. 

"Jake? Did Jinx get there? Are they kissing?" Red blurts, waiting for his responses. 

"She did get here, but Mickey was kissing another girl when she entered the bar."

There's a collective gasp. Jake knows he’s on speaker, and all the girls are listening to him. "He did what?!" 

"Mom, I'm as surprised as you are." He sighs, walking to his side of the 

"Bring her home, Jake. We'll take care of her.” Red offers, and Jake can hear all the girls whispering and talking along with the distinctive sound of people packing up their things to leave. 

“Girls, you don’t have to stop your night for this…”

“She needs her friends now, Jake.” Hen states, coming closer to the phone. “Take care of her for us, will ya?” 

“I will, don’t worry. By the way, Rooster is on his way to get you. He couldn’t stay away from you and the kids any longer.” 

The girls reply with a big aww in unison, as if they had rehearsed it, and it makes Hen chuckle. “I know, he texted me.”

“Take care of him for me, will ya?” 

“I will. Now come home. Red and Jazz are preparing a room for Jesse.”

Jake hangs up and gets in the car. He’s about to try and calm Jesse a bit when he sees Mickey’s figure walking out the bar. Jake swears under his breath before starting the engine and driving away from this place.

Tagging the usual people hehe

@purplevortexx

@shrimping-for-all

@pono-pura-vida

@xoxabs88xox

@jynxmirage

[itsthestutterforme]

Pen Pals (Courtland Gentry x black!reader)

Summary: You and Six were pen pals while he was serving time in Florida State Prison. He continued to write to you, even when he was working for the CIA. He had stopped writing to you, and you were heartbroken until he shows up at your door steps a month later.

Notes: GIF is not mine, all mistakes are my own, sexual themes (p in v penetration, oral sex, hand job), minors DNI, The Gray Man was my Ryan Gosling awakening 😩

**

You had no idea what compelled you to become a pen pal to an inmate. But you were lonely. Your ex was seeing other people while he was with you, and found some way to twist it to blame you for his actions. When you finally had enough, you cut off your connection to him. You blocked him on all platforms and his number.

And it’s been no contact for three months now. The first two weeks were the hardest. You barely got any sleep because you were crying yourself to sleep every night. You hated to admit it, but you missed him. Though you were better off without him, his attention was better than no attention at all.

You were walking back to your car when you saw a posting saying “Need a Pen Pal? Scan the QR code for more info.“ So you did and you had to fill out a form sharing basic information. You had the option to remain anonymous, but you decided to just disclose your first name because what was the point of having a pen pal and not knowing their name.

Once you filled out the form, the two of you started writing letters to each other. The first thing you noticed about him was his humor. Despite being in prison where his free will was taken from him, he still has a sense of humor. Writing every two weeks, turned into writing every week which turned into writing every day.

You didn’t expect to have a criminal become a part of your every day routine. And you never would have expected to see him on your doorstep after a month of silence. You would check your mailbox every morning to see an empty box. It was a gut wrenching as the previous time. Your grip on the door tightened when you slowly begin to recognize the man standing in front of you.

“Where have you been?” You say, not allowing your mind to linger on his attractiveness. “Trying not to die. Can I come in?” Don’t do it, Y/N. Close the door and call the police. The reasonable voice in your head said. But there was something about the softness of his eyes in contrast to his strong facial features.

“Please don’t make me regret this,” you turned to go back inside, leaving the door open for him. You leaned against the wall and watched as he looked outside once before locking the door. “Is this place secure?” He asks, glancing around the house before settling his gaze on you. Your cheeks warmed under his unwavering stare.

“Why wouldn’t it be secure? You afraid someone noticed you following me the past three days?” He chewed his gum for a moment. “You knew.” “My dad’s in the national guard. He taught me a couple things.” He nods his head and looks down at the ground as if he was contemplating something. “But you’re more than welcome to check,”

He took your cue to look around in the living room and made his way to your bedroom. You couldn’t help yourself but to look at his back profile, his under armour shirt hugging his wide shoulders and toned back. Everything about him his toned, which could be expected. But now you wondered about how his body would feel under your hands.

“You have any weapons?” “Under the utensil drawers,” you announced, smiling when he peeked his head out of your bedroom. “You didn’t mention that in your letters,” he joked, coming out of your bedroom. “I don’t tell anyone about it. The only one who knows is occasional sap that tries to break in.” You met him in the living room with your arms crossed.

You could see him fighting back a smile as he got a good look at you. God the tension was suffocating. “So how much trouble are you in?” You asked, taking a step closer to him. He tried to keep the sound of his swallow to a minimum, but you could tell he was nervous.

“I’m not in trouble,” he covers. “Oh yeah?” You grabbed the remote and clicked the TV on. The first thing to show up was massive train wreck and mass shooting in Prague. You turned back to him and he chews his gun modestly.

“I’ll need to check the other rooms,” “Knock yourself out,”

**

Six wasn’t sure what to do with you. He didn’t want to tag you along on his endeavors because it would only increase the risk of you getting hurt or worse. But not bringing you would leave you here as a sitting duck. The last friend he had is in the rubble in Prague. And let’s be honest, you were more than a friend to him.

“I’m not a liability, you know. I can fend for myself.” You tell him. He sits with your laptop on the counter, scrolling through god knows what. He looks up at you for a moment before returning his gaze to the computer. “What, you want me to prove it to you?”

“I don’t plan on losing anyone else,” “What makes you think you’re going to lose me?” “Because he’s a psychopath who thoroughly enjoys torture. And you’re not getting exposed to that.” “How are you going to come into my house and give me orders?” You said with a huff.

You continued to watch the news about the chaos in Prague when he shuts off the TV. “Hey, I was watching that.” You complained. “Show me,” “Show you what?” “Show me that you can fend for yourself,” he closes the laptop and stands from the couch. He wears gray dress pants, a white v neck tshirt and takes off his loose gray blazer.

Standing from the couch, you made your way to the open space in front of the TV. He tosses the blazer on the arm of the couch and stood in front of you. “Are you goin-“ he jabs at your face and you pull your head back a second before his fist could hit your face.

You crouch down slightly with your hands open, ready to grapple him. He swings and you use the momentum of his swing to throw him over your shoulder before he could even process. A flash of surprise settled on his face but he used his advantage to sweep your legs.

You let out a breath when your back hit the solid floor, he took the opportunity to sit on top of you. “You’re not proving yourself pretty well,” you linked your leg behind his and gripped his hand to lift your hip into his but he uses his body weight to keep you down. So you went to another tactic. You reached around and dug your knuckles into his ribs.

He groans and twists in body at the uncomfortable pressure. You took the chance to push him flat on his back and jumping up on your knees, hovering one of your knees over his throat. “Maybe we should pick up the pace then,” you stood from your spot and offered a hand to him.

He takes it, your cheeks warming at the contact of his calloused hands with your warm ones. He stands from the floor and you hesitantly let go of his hand. “Don’t be afraid to hit me. Sparring is about hits. And don’t pull the i-don’t-want-to-hurt-you BS,” He shows his index finger to pause and walks over to spit his gum into the trash.

You ran as quietly as you could after him and jumped, wrapping your legs around his head. You twist your body to the left and he fell to the ground with an umf. He slowly stood up with a soft groan and cracked his neck. “Cheater,”

He lunged at throwing a straight punch and a hook. You blocked the straight punch from the inside and ducked under the hook punch. You sent a driving snap kick to his solar plexus but you catch his hands so he doesn’t stumble into the counter top. You’ve gotten several bruises from that counter and you don’t intend on giving him the same.

“I-don’t-want-to-hurt-you BS,” he quotes. “Shut up,” you rolled your eyes. You threw a punch and he grabbed your outstretched arm. He shoved you into the counter, cushioning your back with his hand. His other hand rests next to you and you inhaled sharply when his nose brushed against yours.

You leaned up to kiss him but he pulls away slightly. “This isn’t a good idea,” he whispers against your lips. You could taste the watermelon from his gum. “Then walk away,” you attempted to pull your head away but he follows you, making you smile.

“Kiss me or move aside so I can take a cold shower,” he licks his lips as he fixates on yours. You leaned in again, except he doesn’t pull away this time. Instead of going in for the kill, you kissed down his base of his neck, humming at the sensation of his burning skin against your soft lips.

He closed his eyes for a moment, his nails digging into your back. You look back up at him and get real close to his lips, wanting him to close the gap between you. “Please, Six,” you squeak when his lips devour yours, his hands slowly traveling from the curve of your ass, up your back and cupping your cheeks.

The tip of his tongue prodded into your mouth and you gladly let him. He caresses your cheeks for a bit before cupping your heat through your fuzzy shorts. He pulls away from your lips to ask, “Am I overstepping?” “God, no,” “Good, because I’m really going to enjoy this,” he lifts you on the counter and slowly pushes your chest down so you were laying directly on your back.

Your heart pattered in your chest in anticipation. He pulls your shirt up and kisses down your stomach, inching your shorts off with each kiss. “Six, please,” he tossed the shorts on the floor and kissed the swell of your thighs. You whined impatiently and he tears your underwear off before sealing his mouth over your core.

He flattens his tongue along the slit and licks in broad strokes. He separates your folds with his thumb and circles your clit, occasionally kitten licking it with the tip of his tongue. “Fuck, ah!” You propped yourself up on your elbows and watched his tongue inside of you, massaging a g spot in the process.

He shakes his head and rests your legs on his shoulders. He licks your clit harder and faster, you rolled your hips to the rhythm of his tongue. You were teetering towards the edge, stars bursted behind your eyes. “Shit, I-I’m coming,” the orgasm hit you like a freight train. Half way through your orgasm, he sucked on your clit harder.

You cried out with tears in your eyes from the overstimulation. He held your legs down once they started to tremble. He pulled away from your throbbing core and gently scooted you towards the edge. “You alright?” You finally felt like you could breathe again.

“Fuck,” you said softly, resting your forehead against his. “You need a minute?” “No,” you pulled off your shirt and tossed it to the side. He bites back a moan when your rubbed him through his dress pants. Your ego was stroked when you noticed his head fall back in bliss.

You unbuckled his pants and slid your hands in his boxers. He presses his pelvis against yours as you pumped in slowly in his pants, moaning at the weight of him in your hand. You felt his dick twitch slightly and you took that as a sign to pick up the pace. A breath catches in his throat and he wraps a shaky hand around your wrist. You looked up at him confused and his tongue darts across his bottom lip.

“I want to fuck you,” your pussy throbs at his bluntness. You took your hands away from his pants and turn around to plant your hands on the wall, expecting him to have his way with you like the others. Instead he grabs you, pressing his front against your ass. “Uh uh, I want to see your pretty face,”

He spins you around and lifts your chin up with his thumb. He kisses you warmly and delicately while you tugged off his dress pants. You hummed when you taste your salty essence on his lips. He kicks off his pants without breaking the kiss. He cups your bare ass and wraps your legs around his waist. You kissed him a few more times before pulling off your own shirt and clipping your bra.

He kicks your bedroom door open and twist so he was lying on his back with you still in his arms. He sits up to take off his shirt and you kissed down his chest littered with scars and burns. You made sure to kiss ever single one, feeling his gaze on you. Grinding your throbbing core onto him, you throw your head back.

“You ready?” He asks after he pulls down his boxers. You nodded your head and he guides you down on his dick. You scratched at his chest frantically as your walls expand around him. Slowly lifting your hips upwards, he rubs your clit when you sink back down on him.

“That’s it, pretty girl.” You roll your hips faster at his words, your walls clenching around him. He examines your every move. The way your stomach twitches occasionally when his dick nudges a sweet spot. When he notices you slow down, he wraps his arms around your bare back and pulled you close. Sitting up until your chests were touching, he thrusts upwards and drills into from below.

“Oh fuck,” he rubs harder on your clit, causing your hips to jerk. The bed creaks shamelessly as he continued to fuck you like his life depended on it. You cried out pathetically and he sucks at your jaw, his chest never separating from yours. He was beginning to lose his pace and he looks at you for a moment, asking a question with his eyes.

You nod and a few moments later, his cum spills inside of you. You rolled your hips to chased your orgasm, going limp against him afterwards. Your head rests in his neck and he leans backwards, adjusting so you were laying on his chest.

“I have a cabin deep in the woods. I could lay low there until this hole thing blows over.” You said after a comfortable pause. “That works,” he trails a hand down your back. “When are you leaving?” “Not sure,” “Well, you better leave sooner rather than later if you want to save the hostage in time,”

His hand stops and you lifted your head from his chest. “How did you-“ “You’re impossible to read but you let something slip when I mentioned my friend, Claire. You’re conflicted.. between staying here with me and going away to find her. So go find her.” He reads your face to detect any lies. He lets out a soft sigh and resumes rubbing your back.

“And to think you’re only a florist with those impeccable interpersonal skills,” “I went to school to become a therapist,” he goes silent for a moment and you were worried you had ruined the moment. Until you felt his chest rumble and a barely audible laugh left his lips.

“What are the odds of a messed up man like me ends up falling for therapist? Isn’t that gold?” He retorts between bubbles of laughter. “You have a broken sense of humor, Six. Seriously,” you state, only causing him to laugh louder. Soon enough, you found yourself laughing along too. Now the two of you were laughing like a bunch of idiots, and maybe that was a good thing.

[allelitedweaming]

Chuck Taylor x Reader (but no actual Chuck in this installment, sorry)

Part One?

Summary: You and Orange Cassidy are hanging out alone and you accidentally confess something you never meant to say out loud.

Rated PG for some mention of drinking alcohol / being drunk

Ever since you could remember, all of your best friends had been boys. That was why you had been watching wrestling since you were just a kid, among many other personality traits that only seemed to deepen with age. But as you got older you wondered, did it make you one of those women to constantly surround yourself with men? It wasn't as if you didn't have any female friends. There was Kris and ... Well, there was Kris.

Something told you that this particular quirk wouldn't be changing anytime soon, although, if you couldn't control your feelings you might find yourself with no friends instead of all male friends.

When you first came to work for AEW, Chuck and OC were the easiest people to talk to. You found you had the most in common with them, and even where your common interests ended, you loved to listen to the two of them go on at length about Resident Evil or even basketball, which you had never followed before. You related to them and to Trent and Kris because you also had a tendency to be unpolished in your promo work. You found it easier to just be yourself in the ring and out of it, even when it was for an angle. It was what made crowds fall in love with The Best Friends, and so far it had worked for you too.

So it was just the next logical step for Tony to start to pair you guys up together. It started with one tag match with Kris, but it soon grew into something bigger, until finally you were coming out with the rest of the gang in matching tracksuits.

Just like you weren't sure if you could pinpoint the exact moment that you became an official member of the team, you also weren't sure if you could remember when you realized you had fallen completely and totally in love with Dustin. The one thing you did know was that you could never ever tell him, let alone anyone else in your tightknit group.

So what were you doing at Orange's apartment at 2 AM? How had you managed to lose track of how many beers you had had? How did he seem so calm, cool, and collected? And why did he keep bringing the topic of conversation back around to Dustin?

"Sometimes he just gets insecure, you know?" Orange took another swig from his can. He was relaxed, a slight blush to his cheeks. His hair was slightly more mussed than usual and he wasn't wearing his signature shades, but other than that you would be pressed to spot the difference between the appearance of this Orange Cassidy and the one he played on TV. Plus, he wouldn't shut up. "Sometimes when we are alone, I try to reassure him a little. He's like an older brother to me. He doesn't get what a great guy he is."

You nodded. You were trying to play it cool but your poker face is terrible. Inside, you were melting at the tender way that Orange was describing his closest pal, so you were certain it was written all over your expression. You tried to change the subject for what must have been the third time, but Orange just went on.

"Sometimes I think he's lonely. But he'd never admit it. Like, tonight for example. Tonight, I invited him over." You couldn't help but look surprised. You felt your eyebrows shoot up. Orange jabbed the hand holding his beer in your direction. "Exactly, Y/N, exactly. He turned me down when I mentioned you would be here." Orange noticed your face fall and he got apologetic. "No no no, not like that. Dustin loves you. But sometimes I think he is too scared to be vulnerable around anyone. He was too scared to be here, just the three of us."

You sank back into the couch. The room was starting to spin and you weren't sure how much of it you could actually blame on the alcohol. "I think I'm in love with him." The words bubbled out of you before you realized you were speaking and not just thinking them for the millionth time. But they were quiet.

Orange leaned in towards you, setting his beer down on the coffee table. "What?"

You turned and looked at him, but you got so embarrassed you had to cover your face. "I think I'm in love with Dustin." You peeked through your fingers and were mortified to see Orange's toothy, crooked grin staring back at you.

He shot up off the couch like a rocket. "Hot dog!" He clapped his hands together and you couldn't help but start to giggle. You felt heat rising from your neck up into your cheeks. "This is incredible news! My two best buds are going to fall in love!"

"Orange, Orange, no," you put your beer down next to his and started to wave both hands at him in protest. "You can never tell him. You can never tell anyone!"

Orange threw his hands up as if in disgust. "What?" He asked indignantly. "What are you talking about?"

"No! I shouldn't have even told you! Shit, Orange, what time is it? How much have I had to drink?"

Your blonde friend slumped back down onto the couch next to you, frowning. "I rescind my hot dog."

"It is stricken from the record. Now it's time for you to go to bed and for me to pass out on your couch. Okay?" Orange just pouted at you. "Okay?"

"Fine!"

[web-spinning]

I’ve seen your mid-teens request and demon request from others. I’ve read the demon request for some reason as piggyback ride and why not combine:

Scout with mid-teen reader (could be 16) (platonic) who asks him for a piggyback ride? (I’m smaller than him lol, like 5,3”?)

A /N- Anon you are...A GENIUS.

Scout giving a mid-teen reader a piggyback ride

TW. Slight wounds mentions.

- Dang, dang it...Awh, crap.- You muttered out, tightening the grip you had on your right leg. Some blood came out from the scar, which was bigger than you'd expect it to be. It was quite painful, especially that some sand had already made it's way into the wound. 

- Ey, you okay?- You heard from behind you, as Scout came to a harsh stop next to the tree you just fell from.- Oh, that...that looks nasty.

He moved towards you and crouched down, observing the wound.

- Yeah, that is...uhm...the doc is ought to look at that. C'mon pal, let's go.- He said, standing up. You looked at him, with pain clearly showing all over your face.

- I don't think I can walk in this condition...

- It's just a scratch, wuss. I walked with a broken bone before, it ain't nothin'. - Scout chuckled, looking at your face.

- It hurts!- You exclaimed, letting go of the wound.

- Okay, okay...listen, I have an idea.- He said, scratching the back of his neck.- You might not like it...

- What is it?- Asking tiredly, you rested your head on the tree behind you.

- I can carry you to the base.- He offered. At this point, you just looked at him dumbfounded.

- Scout...i'm sorry, but I doubt you can carry anything that weights more than your gun.- You said, giving him a small smile.

Jeremy just narrowed his eyebrows at you.

- 'course I can! Wanna see?- He bit out playfully.

- I guess trying won't hurt.- You replied.

Scout moved out, and slowly crouched, his back towards you.

- Okay, you hold on...- He began. You carefully put both your hands around his neck. Not smoothly, but he delicately raised himself up to catch your legs. At some point you just hanged there, until he moved his hands to stabilize your legs over his palms. You were surprised he can even carry you-you aren't exactly a five year old.

- Ey, you're heavy...- He chuckled, finally taking in a breath and moving forwards.

- Perhaps you're just infirm.- You replied, trying your best to keep your arms steady.

- Watch it, youngster.- Scout said, frisky, and you both fell silent again, as he walked.

- What were you doin' on a tree in the first place?- He asked, breaking the silence.

- Well, uhm...you know...being on the base at all times is just boring. I wanted to have some fun.- You explained. The man weezed lightly as he steadied you on his back again.

- Bozo...- He whispered under breath.- Ya know, when I was your age, my brothers used to carry me like this a lot.

- Oh?- You insisted, curious to hear more.

- Ma couldn't always take care of us all. I was a little weasel, a'ight? And would always follow my brothers around, and annoy them...- Scout started, wandering off in his thoughts.- Once, they got into a fight with some yuppies. I tried helpin', and ended up with a broken nose. They had to carry me back home on their backs...

He stopped to stand still, taking in a few breaths. 

- I got so scolded I started crying! But they weren't really mad, y'know? Just concerned...- He said as he began walking again.

- You miss them, don't you?- You asked. Looking before the two of you, you noticed the base growing in closer with each step Scout took.

- Yeah. I will have to call one of 'em once we're back at the digs.- Jeremy stated as he kept on walking.

As the base became practically in reach, you sighed.

- You know...That was kinda fun.- You said to the man, smiling lightly.

- Told ya' I am strong enough to carry you.- He replied. You could clearly hear in his voice that he was proud of himself.

[cjsinkythoughts]

Rocks, Shoulders, and Ears

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Reader

Word Count: 3501

Warnings: !FATWS SPOILERS!, Cursing, Major Angst in this one, guys, Loads of Feels (sorry not sorry), John Walker being a douche (I really don’t like the guy)

A/N: I’m SO SORRY! I promise I was planning on it being shorter, but I went a little overkill with the angst! There’s just so many feelings and not enough space in my heart and soul, so I had to pour them out here! You get to see more of Reader and Sam’s relationship in this one and there’s major Bucky Feels towards the end (in my defense, this is based on the Couples Therapy half of the episode).

I’m really hoping we get to see Bucky go to Louisiana next episode! I’m holding out for it! I have a few ideas that include Sarah, but I need the episode! Ugh! Now we have to wait a whole ‘nother week! I really shouldn’t write three chapters on one episode in one day. I just couldn’t help myself!

Anyways! Please enjoy this part and thank you so much for all your support! Seriously, it’s meant so much to me, especially after the week I’ve had! If you haven’t checked out the previous parts, my FATWS Series Masterlist is HERE, so please go read those first. Like always, this isn’t beta’d so please excuse any mistakes! Enjoy, babes!

!SPOILERS UNDER CUT!

The last thing you remembered was falling asleep in Bucky’s arms after walking a few miles. And a hospital in DC wasn’t exactly what you preferred waking up to, but it’s what happened. Turned out, not only was your shoulder dislocated and your thigh was strained, but you had a mild concussion. Your arm was in a sling and your palm, which you had completely forgotten about after you wrapped it while on Bucky’s back, was wrapped properly. Luckily, your thigh wasn’t too bad, but they wanted to put you on crutches, which you refused immediately.

You had to get out of that building. You had no idea where the guys went, which was weird because you were sure they’d never leave you alone. Especially in a hospital.

You quickly snuck your way through the halls after grabbing your bag which - thank God - was left on the seat besides your bed and changing into an extra pair of clothes. 

You tried calling Bucky’s phone, the one he had specifically for you, which he always always answered. He even made an excuse to go to the bathroom once when you accidentally called in the middle of a therapy session. Nothing. You called the number four times before trying Sam’s phone.

It clicked on the first try.

“Hey. Listen, sorry for leaving-”

“Where the hell are you?”

You heard him sigh. “I was just about to explain, so hang on a second there. You weren’t waking up, probably because that concussion you forgot to mention to us-”

“In my defense, I didn’t know.”

“Sure you didn’t.” You rolled your eyes, throwing your free hand up, exasperated. “Anyways, Bucky wanted me to meet someone, we’ll talk about that when you inevitably get here, put we had a bit of trouble and Bucky was arrested-”

“What?!”

“Chill your pants, Y/L/N. Just listen. We’re in Baltimore. I’ll text you the address. Get here soon and I’ll explain the whole thing. We’ve been here for a couple hours, but there’s people on their way and we’re getting everything situated right now.”

“Okay. Fine. But you’re in trouble.”

“Don’t I know it, babe. Now hurry your cute little ass here. We’ve got stuff to talk about.”

*****************

The ride from DC to Baltimore is usually an hour or so, but you’ve got resources, especially in the nation’s capital, and riding the bike you got, being able to go way over the speed limit? You got there in half the time. Being an Avenger really does have its perks.

The moment you got there, you hopped off the bike, not even bothering to turn it off, and stormed into the precinct. You headed straight over to the desk, but a pair of hands caught you by your uninjured arm before you could make a scene.

“Hey, hey, hey.” Sam spoke softly, squeezing your bicep gently. “He’s okay, alright?”

“Why is he-”

“He missed his court-mandated therapy session.” Sam informed you, pulling you over to where he had been sitting previously. “There was a warrant out for his arrest. They had to bring him in, but it’s fine. His therapist’s been contacted. She should be here any minute to get him out.”

Your head fell back at his words. His therapy. How could you forget? You let Bucky complain to you about it and played along sometimes, but you really did think it was good for him and you tried supporting him. Yet you made him miss it and now he’s in trouble.

“Hey. Y/N. Look at me.” You found Sam’s worried eyes, his hand coming up to hold the side of your neck. “He’s okay. He’ll be out in just a bit. It’s fine.”

“It’s my fault, Sam.”

“No. It’s not. He’s a grown ass man who made the decision to skip.”

You shook your head, holding his wrist for something to anchor you down. “No, Sammy. I brought him along. I should’ve been more responsible-”

“I know we’ve joked around about you being in charge and stuff, but…you know it’s not all on your shoulders, right?” Sam tilted his head slightly, eyebrow pinched in confusion making his eyes narrow. 

You turned your head, not wanting to look at him. You didn’t need another set of deep eyes to fall into. “Sammy…I promised him I’d look after you.”

“I know. And that’s fine. But looking after us - looking after him - doesn’t mean you have to be there to hold his hand and take the fall for him. He’s not a child. Hell, he’s a hundred years old. Tell me you understand that.”

Licking your lips, you closed your eyes and shook your head again. “I-I can’t-”

“Is that why you’re obsessed with finding Wanda?”

You frowned at his question, eyes snapping to his. “I’m worried about her, Sam.”

“I am too, but she can handle herself. And if she doesn’t want to be found, you have to let her be. I know the Avengers were your only family. I know how much Steve meant to you-”

“No.” You pulled away rather harshly, digging your nails into your palms, trying not to cry, ignoring the wound you were irritating. “No, you don’t. How could you understand my feelings for Steve when I don’t understand them myself?”

Sam always had this ability to make anyone feel important, just by looking them in the eye. It was something you always admired about him; the way his smile could light up a room, those warm eyes making everyone’s fears go away. They reminded you of hot chocolate. Something that could soothe your worries, comfort you, warm your very soul from the ice tragedy and heartache tend to big on.

You promised yourself you wouldn’t cry in front of people, but with the way he was looking at you, it was hard to keep the tears from slipping.

“You loved him, Y/N. Why is it so hard for you to see that?”

“I didn’t - I wasn’t in love with him, Sam.” You argued, wiping your cheeks aggressively and turning, crossing your arms defensively.

“What do you call it then?”

It was a rhetorical question, Sam copying your movements and sitting straight to watch for Bucky coming out. A rhetorical question that you didn’t know the answer to. Because you weren’t in love with Steve. No. Maybe you had been, but somewhere along the way he passed your heart to Bucky. So why did it hurt so bad?

You refused to dwell on it anymore, clearing your throat and dabbing at your eyes one more time before changing the topic. “Why are we in Baltimore?”

“Bucky wanted me to meet someone. Isaiah. You know him?” Sam turned back to you, his warm eyes shifting into something else. Suspicion? A bit of anger? Annoyance? You couldn’t tell.

“Isaiah? I don’t think I know any Isaiahs. And definitely not here. Why? Who is he?”

Sam shook his head, eyes darting around the lobby. “We’ll talk about it later.”

You nodded, although now your curiosity had peaked and you wondered who this guy was that made Sam so agitated. While you waited, you felt your eyes drooping and you let your head fall onto Sam’s shoulder, who chuckled.

“You’re still tired? You know you slept for, like, twelve hours, right?”

“I haven’t been sleeping much.”

Sam turned his head to kiss yours. “Y/N, I know you want to care for everyone, but you’ve gotta take care of yourself too.”

“I know.”

“Okay.” And with that, the subject dropped, Sam pulling out his phone while you rested your eyes.

It was another ten minutes or so before Sam’s name was called and the both of you stood up to greet the speaker. A woman, Dr. Raynor. Bucky’s infamous therapist.

And speaking of infamous. The moment you heard his voice, you squeezed your eyes shut, hoping it was just your brain malfunctioning. And then he was walking towards you, calling Bucky ‘Bucky’ like they were old pals and he was saving him from something terrible.

Your face scrunched up as Walker talked about stopping Bucky’s regular therapy sessions. “He’s too valuable of an asset to have him tied up-”

“Don’t call him an asset.” You snapped. “He’s a human being with needs, and therapy-”

“He’s a super soldier with skills that we need.” Walker cut in, making you scowl as he turned back to Raynor.

You scoffed in disbelief at his words, turning on your heel and walking away before he did, heading straight for Bucky, who lifted his right arm, wrapping it around your shoulders once you were close enough.

“Are you okay?” You whispered, closing your eyes and trying to relax in his hold, breathing him in.

“Are you? Should you be walking? What did-”

You shook your head. “I’m fine.”

“Really?”

“Promise.” You sighed out with a nod, squeezing him once more before pulling back as Raynor stepped forwards, ordering Bucky and Sam to do a session with her. You almost laughed when Sam tried refusing, a little chuckle actually leaving your lips when Bucky slumped, dragging his feet like a kid going to the principal’s office.

You followed, Bucky holding the door open for you. “Thanks, Buck.”

“Of course, doll.” He gave a small smile, before walking in after you, Sam letting out a, “hey!” when Bucky shut the door on him, making you roll your eyes. You let the corners of your mouth tick up slightly in amusement. Yes, they annoyed the hell out of you, but you had to admit it was pretty funny sometimes.

“I believe I asked for James and Sam, Ms. Y/L/N.”

“It’s Agent, actually, and I think I’m gonna sit in.”

Raynor narrowed her eyes. “I don’t think-”

“That wasn’t a request.” You threw her words to Sam back at her, making Sam smirk. You shot him a wink as she relented with a sigh. 

“Fine. Just as a spectator. Don't interrupt.”

You raise your hands in surrender, slipping around the table to stand in the corner as your fellas sank down into the seats across the table from her.

A small puff of laughter came from you at the lack of response when she asked one of them to start. She shot you a warning look over her shoulder, but you shrugged. You couldn’t help it; it was like all those times back in grade school when a teacher asked for a volunteer to read in a classroom full of rowdy kids and crickets followed.

Once she mentioned the next exercise was used for couples, you had to laugh, making both men shoot you begging pouts.

“Y/N.” Raynor glared at you, so you controlled yourself, gesturing for her to continue.

Her miracle question did work so well, neither of them cooperating well.

She didn’t even bother with you when you started cackling after she mentioned the “soul-gazing exercise” and Bucky thanked her, Sam commenting that he would like this one. You gave a teasing wolf-whistle when they got close, one of Bucky’s thighs between Sam’s and vice versa.

“Doll.” Bucky whined at you.

“Listen here, smartass-”

Raynor cleared her throat, cutting Sam off from finishing his statement towards you. You leaned back against the wall, crossing your arms with a smirk. After all the bickering and side taking they’ve put her through, letting you enjoy this was the least they could do, and they knew it.

Of course, this exercise didn’t work out either. A staring contest. Children. She was best friends with literal children.

But then something happened. Something you never thought would happen. Raynor asked Bucky why Sam aggravated him, and Bucky looked over to you, his eye growing sad in a way they only did when Steve was involved.

“Steve believed in you.” Bucky told him earnestly. “He trusted you. He gave you that shield for a reason. That shield? That is…that is everything he stood for. That is his legacy. He gave you that shield, and you threw it away like it was nothing.  So maybe he was wrong about you. And if he was wrong about you, he was wrong about me.”

You heard his voice crack a little at the end as he slumped down in his seat, you jaw dropping slightly. You listened to the rest of the conversation, catching the way Sam grew irritated again, something that you didn’t previously think was possible, but was happening more and more now.

Why wasn’t Sam talking to you? Why was he holding all this in suddenly? And why…Bucky…he didn’t tell you that. Why didn’t he say anything? How could he ever feel…

But you knew how he could feel like that. Yes, Steve believed in him so much that he tore the Avengers apart for him…but he was the only one willing to do that for him. Yeah, you and Sam and Wanda and Clint, you all joined their side but, being honest, it wasn’t because you believed in Bucky. It was because you believed in Steve. Of course, it was different now. You believed in Bucky with your entire being, and you believed in Sam with your heart and soul, but…did either of them know that? Did they believe you when you told them? Or did you not tell them enough? This whole time you thought you were doing right by Steve - trying you damn hardest to watch out for them. But it obviously wasn’t enough. And that was on you, no matter what Sam said.

You read people. That’s what you’ve always done, that’s what you’d always do. It was the reason you earned your spot on the team. You read people and situations and could figure your way into their heads in a second. Years and years of undercover work taught you how to do that and how to protect yourself while doing so.

So why? How? How did you miss something this big? How did you miss the way Sam was holding onto something? Why did you ignore the vexation in his tone for the last couple weeks? How did you miss that Bucky was hurting that deeply? Why didn’t you do anything more for him?

You left the room before either of the boys, but you heard Sam standing up as you walked out the door.

You should’ve known you weren’t the only one holding things in. Of course they were. The difference is, you were supposed to be their rock, the thing they could hold onto to ground themselves, the shoulder for them to cry on, and the ear lent to them whenever they needed someone to listen. That was your job. It wasn’t their job. Not for you. Your rock - your shoulder, your ear - he left you. And you thought, after all he did for you, if you just returned the favor for his best friends, you’d…you dunno. You’d be closer to him, maybe.

But you couldn’t. Because you weren’t Steve Rogers. And you knew that from the start, but you had to try. You tried. And it wasn’t working. He made it seem so easy when he did it for you. Clearly you didn’t give him enough credit for dealing with all your shit on top of his own.

“Doll.” You didn’t stop walking, needing to get outside for some fresh air. “Doll, hold on. Wait a minute.”

He grabbed your arm as you made it outside, spinning you to face him. “You didn’t tell me.” You spoke quietly, your voice fragile as you stared at him, confusion and hurt in your eyes. Were you really that bad at doing your job? Did you really already fail him? He asked you to do one thing…

“I didn’t…I didn’t want you to deal with my problems.” You opened your mouth, but he shook his head, holding your face between his hands. “I’m not stupid, Y/N. I know something’s going on with you. You’re good at hiding your nightmares at night, but I’m better. You’re jumpier than usual. Quieter. Every time Wanda’s brought up, you turn away. And the other day? On the truck? You froze. I was watching, doll. It was just a second, but you froze. You never freeze.”

“It’s not your job to worry about me, Buck-”

He frowned, tilting his head. “Not my job? Aren’t we friends? Isn’t that what friends do? Or am I just a job to you? I know you promised him to look after me. Is that all I am to you? A responsibility?”

You shook your head vigorously, holding onto his wrists. “No. No, Bucky, I just-”

“Do you think he was wrong about me?”

Salty diamonds ran down your cheeks as you clenched your eyes shut and shook your head. “No.”

“Did you ever believe in me? Did you ever care or was it all just because Steve? Is Steve the only reason you tolerate me?”

“Don’t say that. God, please don’t say that.” You begged quietly, meeting his gaze again. Every beautiful detail was laced with devastation, eyes imploring her to make him feel better. “Of course I believe in you. I have since Wakanda, you know that. Yes, okay, maybe Steve is why I helped you at first, but-but…I care about you, James. So much so that it hurts sometimes. He wasn’t wrong about you. Or Sammy. You both mean so much to me. Okay?”

You watched his Adam’s Apple bob as he swallowed thickly, nodding slightly. You both simultaneously moved to get closer, him pulling you while you stepped into his chest, arms around his waist. His arms were tight around your shoulder, holding you just as firm as the kiss he planted on your forehead.

Sam came out, planting himself besides you as you pulled away, Bucky wiping your eyes. “I feel better.” He huffed out sarcastically, making you smack him in the arm. “Ow! Yeesh. Women these days.”

The sudden siren of one of the parked police cars made the three of you look over, spotting Walker and Hoskins. You groaned. “Did he see that?”

“Hey,” Bucky caught your jaw between his fingers, shaking his head. “Who cares? It’s between us and us only. Right?” You nodded, making him kiss your forehead again, a whisper of “attagirl” against your skin. You hadn’t heard that from him in a while.

“Gentlemen!” Walker waved them over, nodding at you. “And lady.” The three of you reluctantly walked over, Bucky going to lean on the police car Walker and Hoskins were near and you hopped up to sit on the hood of the police car across from them, Sam besides you.

You got information from Walker, who was once again trying to get you to work with him, but Sam summed it up nicely, explaining that the three of you didn’t have to follow the rules he did. You started to leave, Bucky tucking you under his arms once you slid off the car, when Walker stopped you once more.

“A word of advice, then. Stay the hell out of my way.”

You grumbled under your breath as the faker and his lapdog walked off. “I’m gonna kill him.” You vowed as the three of you started in the other direction. “I swear to God, I’m gonna rip that shield off his back and use it to beat him in that stupid face of his-”

“Down, girl.” Sam jested, flicking your ear. “We need a game plan. What’re we thinking?”

Your eyes narrowed as Bucky piped up, talking about the Isaiah character - who you still didn’t know - before HYDRA entered the equation.

“Absolutely not.” You shook your head, tugging his arm to make him stop once he mentioned Siberia. “Do you remember Siberia? Because if you’re actually suggesting what I think you’re suggesting, we remember Siberia very differently.”

“He’s our best bet-”

“So you’re just going to go sit in a room with this guy?”

Bucky scrunched up his nose. “Ye-yes…”

A beat of silence passed before Sam gave his stamp of approval, but you still disagreed. “There’s no way this’ll end well and I refuse to let you-”

You found your face between Bucky’s hands again. You really wished he’d stop doing that and just ask for your attention. You didn’t mean that, of course. You’d be held by him every second of every day if you could. “Don’t you trust me, doll?”

You licked your lips, looking around the darkened street. This was not a good idea. A bad plan - a terrible plan, really - but, unfortunately, it was the only one you had. “Dammit. I’ve got a really bad feeling about this.” You finally sighed, running a hand through your hair after Bucky let go of you, his eyebrow quirking.

“Is that a yes?”

Sam nodded. “We’re gonna go see Zemo.”

You tugged Bucky’s hand when he nodded back and went to walk after Sam, who started walking around the corner, making him stop. “And yes. I do trust you. With everything I have, Buckaroo.”

[hailhydra920]

The Edge of Tomorrow (5)

Pairing: Bucky x reader Modern AU

Summary: When Bucky Barnes’ arm gets blow off in Afghanistan, his mental state is shaky. Steve tells him that he needs someone to be with him to make sure he’s okay. You just happen to be the girl that answered the ad in the newspaper.

Chapter 5

Series Masterlist

Warnings: Hints of angst, fluff

Word Count: 1.4k

           The air was nice and light, something Bucky wished he could feel all the time. You were seated across from him, your gaze fixed on the board littered with clear and foggy chess pieces. He waited for you to make your move, a small smile working its way onto his features as you tugged your bottom lip between your teeth in concentration. You finally opted to move your knight very hesitantly, keeping your finger on the piece for a few seconds after you moved it before letting go.

           Bucky’s eyebrows rose as he analyzed your move. You just ruined his entire plan with one move, but he hadn’t played this game in…who knows how long, so he was a bit rusty. His blue eyes darted around the board looking for a strategic move, when a knock echoed through the apartment. Only then did he remember that Steve was coming today. You were staring at him with a questioning look, and he cleared his throat.

           “That’s Steve, I think.” He spoke roughly.

           Your eyes widened before looking at your clothes. You were wearing an old band t-shirt and rainbow fuzzy socks that peeked from under your sweatpants. “I’ll quickly go change.”

           Bucky shook his head. He wanted to say, “You look beautiful.” But instead, he said, “Steve’s seen worse.”

           He quickly realized what he said and backtracked. “Not that you look bad! I was just saying that if you did look bad, which you don’t, but if you did, he wouldn’t care because he’s seen worse.”

           He winced as the words toppled out of his mouth. You’re an idiot, Barnes. Bucky scolded himself under his breath. He bravely peeked at you, and you had a soft smile on your lips.

           “Well, thank you, I think?” You laughed.

           Another knock echoed again, and Bucky rushed to his feet with a pink hue on his cheeks. “I’ll go get that.”

           Bucky unlocked the door and welcomed Steve inside. Steve followed him into the living room. You waved at Steve as you took in his appearance. He had short blond hair and baby blue eyes, with a plaid read button up accenting his muscles and regular blue jeans adorning his legs. You stood up and walked over to him.

           “Nice to meet you, Steve, I’m Y/n.” You said sticking out your hand.

           Steve shook your hand and smiled. “Nice to meet you, too. So, uh, you’re living with Bucky, now?”

           You nodded. “Yup. He’s a wonderful cook.”

           “I made us box mac and cheese last night.” Bucky said with a small smile.

           “And it was delicious! If you stir it, it’s homemade!” You argued.

           Bucky chuckled softly and Steve smiled and nodded. “She’s good for you. This is the most I’ve seen you smile in a while.”

           Bucky scratched the back of his neck. “Yeah…”

“Dot called me. She said she needed to talk to you, and that you won’t answer any of her texts or calls.” Steve said a little quieter to Bucky as you made your way to the kitchen.

Bucky tensed at the mention of her name. “Yeah, well, nothing she has to say will fix anything. She cheated on me, Steve. I come home with a missing arm, hoping to be with my girl after not seeing her for so long, only to find her and another man on my couch. She probably would’ve broken up with me anyway after she had seen the arm.”

Steve sighed and ran a hand over his face. “Dot’s a jerk, but she told me she had some of your stuff at her apartment, and she wanted to give it back.”

“She can burn it for all I care.” Bucky grumbled. “Tell her I don’t want to see her or her sorry excuse for a boyfriend ever again.”

“Alright, pal. Well, I’ve got to get back to the Center, and if you need anything, just call. It looks like you’re both doing good here. We also have game night at the Center every Tuesday if you’re interested. I just think it might do you some good to hang out with some of the other Vets.”

Bucky exhaled and scratched the top of his head. “I’ll think about it.”

“Okay. Oh, also, Sam said he was going to drop off some Jambalaya tonight, Sarah knows how much you love it. Sam said she made a LOT.”

A small smile worked its way onto Bucky’s face. “I do like Jambalaya.”

Steve grinned. “Great, have a nice day, Buck. Have a nice day, Y/n!” He called before walking out the door.

You and Bucky settled down and started playing your chess game again.

“Steve seems nice.” You commented as you moved your bishop.

A soft laugh escaped his lips. “Yeah, but he can be a pain sometimes. By the way, my friend, well, co-worker, Sam, is bringing over some Jambalaya for dinner tonight. His sister makes the absolute best. She’s amazing,”

“Sounds like someone has a little crush.” You said wiggling your eyebrows.

He barked out a full laugh this time. It felt nice. “Sam would have my head. Besides, I just flirt with her sometimes to thrown Sam off her trail. She’s been secretly dating some guy for a while.”

“Wow, a true lifesaver.”

“Sam can be a bit much at times, but he’s a good guy. He actually cares about people. It’s refreshing to see that in today’s world.” Bucky said replacing one of your pieces with his.

“Yeah. You’re a good guy, too, Bucky.”

He looked at you and the fond smile you were giving him made butterflies erupt in his stomach, a feeling he wasn’t exactly familiar with. He looked back down at the chess board with a bashful smile.

“Well, I’m glad someone thinks so.”

You were both silent as you continued the game. The only noise was the soft clinking of chess pieces against the board and your collective soft breathing. It was nice. You were nice.

“Do you like stargazing?” You asked, breaking the silence.

He looked up at you with a raised eyebrow. “Yes…why?”

You let out a soft laugh. “Sorry, that was random, I was just thinking maybe we could go stargazing tonight. I know a really nice spot, and I just thought it could help clear your head a bit.”

“Y-yeah. That would be nice.”

“Great.” You perked up. “I’ll pack some snacks too in case we get a little hungry.”

How were you so amazing? Bucky thought as he continued the game.

~~~~~

           You helped Bucky put on his jacket, and his cheeks warmed with you being so close to him and with having to have help. He should be able to put on his own jacket, but he felt like a burden. He saw the look of horror on Dot’s face when he walked through the door. She may have been surprised that she was caught with another man, but he saw the way her eyes lingered on where his left arm should have been.

           “Hey, is Bucky there?” You said tucking a strand of hair between his ear. ”Cause I think he might be lost in space.”

           He snapped out of his thoughts and sighed. “Sorry, kinda spaced out for a second.”

           “What were you thinking about?”

           He shook his head. “N-nothing. Let’s go.”

           You drove again. The drive was quiet, but there was a softness in the air, so it wasn’t awkward. You parked the car and grabbed the blanket from the backseat.

           “We have to walk a little to get to the place, I hope that’s fine.” You said as he grabbed the snacks.

           “I don’t mind.”

           Bucky followed you and let out a small gasp when you got to a small clearing. You laid the blanket out and looked over at him with bright eyes.

           “What do you think?”

           “It’s nice.” He looked up. “And the sky is so clear that I feel way closer to the stars.”

           You flopped onto the blanket, tugging him down with you. A soft chuckle escaped his lips as he laid beside you. The butterflies came again, and he frowned slightly. You would never want to be with him. He was a broken man. You deserved someone better than him. He turned to look at you as you pointed out various constellations with much enthusiasm. He smiled and a warm feeling filled his chest. Maybe he should just enjoy your company for as long as he had you. Sooner or later, you would realize what kind of broken person he was, so he would just have to savor the butterflies and warm tingles while they lasted.

EoT Tags: @peaches1958

[randomshyperson]

Good morning my love, how are you today? Have you drunk water? And don't lie to me, I don't think you have. And make sure to eat a meal for me as well.

But on a different note, I have come with another request. You seriously need to make a Kofi so I can send you money.

Natasha x Reader since I am still processing her death. Where basically Nat's family is like "so this is your girlfriend?" And it's like a scene where we basically did something stupid like get our hand stuck in a jar or something. And Nat's like, "yeah? I promise she's not like this all the time. She's actually pretty badass" but they don't believe it until one day the whole family and Y/n goes on a mission together and they actually see this side

Hello my friend, good morning. I had a decent meal today, and some water after you request me to haha. Speaking of request, I hope you like this, it's short but is made with love.

Warnings: Mentions of violence, fluffly.

Words: 1.006

All Works Masterlist

First and Second Impressions

You are failing to impress Natasha's family.

To be fair, it is not your fault.

A month ago, for example, when they showed up at the Avengers' tower by surprise, instead of the following week at the dinner you had scheduled for Natasha to introduce you all, they found you hanging upside down from the gym's training ropes. It wasn't your fault that gymnastics wasn't your thing, but you were upset at the way Melina squeezed her eyes shut as if disappointed while Nat helped you down.

And after that little incident, you hoped to get a better second impression out of the Romanoffs, but when dinner happened, things only got worse.

The lobster was fresher than expected, and it bit your finger. Natasha dragged you into the bathroom to get a bandage, and you saw that Yelena was holding back her giggle at almost seeing you cry over the small bruise.

And things only seemed to get worse with every interaction you had with Natasha's family.

Being Alexei's ride ended with a flat tire. Spending time with Yelena ended with you being a shy mess and making jokes that she didn't understand. And cooking with Melina was a ridiculous disaster, you couldn't even open a jar for her.

So you were planning something big.

Natasha's birthday.

If you could throw an amazing party, you would impress everyone, and make your girlfriend happy.

So you organized everything, the place, the decorations, the food, and the guest list.

Your fellow Avengers were happy to help in any way they could, but you said you preferred to do everything yourself, knowing that Tony and Thor weren't exactly the best at keeping secrets.

After setting up at the Romanoff residence, you checked your cell phone for the time.

You had arranged with Wanda and Pietro for them to bring the candles, but they were late. So were the rest of the Avengers. But with luck, it would all work out.

When you heard a car noise in the backyard, you felt your heart race.

They arrived early, well you just expected the candles to arrive before the party was over.

You hurried to turn off the lights.

That's when the trouble started.

Well, you forgot for a second that you were dealing with Russian spies.

Russian spies with a huge list of enemies.

When you heard the noises of cars parking, you assumed it was your girlfriend's lovely family, and not trained assassins looking for them.

"SURPRISE!" You shouted as soon as the door opened, and you had a second to notice the weapons before the men moved in.

Bad time for the Avengers to be late.

Your first action was to duck to avoid a shot to the face, and seek cover. The next moment you were grabbing the trays of food to throw at the attackers, and disarm them. It all turned into a mess of blows as soon as you managed to get up and attack the first of them.

You ended up on top of a man much bigger than you, but you had to use his advantage against him to take him down against your colleagues, and then disarm the other three.

A few more blows later, you finished, stumbling slightly away from the man you had knocked down.

You widen your eyes as you looked forward only to see the Avengers accompanied by the Romanoff family staring at you and the several fallen assassins in shock.

"Babe, are you okay?" Natasha was the one who spoke first, pushing Steve to catch up to you, and skipping one of the fallen men on the floor to raise her hands to her face, looking for injuries.

"I-I'm fine." You replied half breathless from the fight, and then embarrassed. " Dammit, Nat, you're early."

As Natasha checked you out, Yelena spoke up.

"Are you sure she hasn't been replaced?" She whispered to her mother.

"Two weeks ago she couldn't open a jar of pickles." Melina whispered back. "Maybe she has a twin sister."

"Yes, that must be it, no chance it's the same person who cried over a cut on her finger." Yelena muttered back, and Natasha released you to look at the two with a frown.

"I told you guys she was a badass." She speaks, making you blush.

Yelena holds up her hands in surrender. "Hey, hey, I believe you." She began with an ironic smile, moving closer as Steve and Sam moved to pick up the agents with Alexei. "The coolest thing about her is that she's not a poser like you."

You chuckle half-heartedly as Natasha rolls her eyes.

Looking around you sigh.

"Sorry, I think I knocked all the food over on the floor." You say clumsily, but Natasha smiles, slipping her arm across your shoulder.

"Damn, you knocked over the cake, too? We found the candles." Pietro announces next, raising the item in the air.

You let out an exclamation of celebration.

"No, it's in the fridge." You say, and make mention of walking away, but Nat holds you against her, making you smile. "Pick it up for us, Pietro?"

"Sure, pal."

Half an hour later, you are at a table with the Avengers and the Romanoff family, singing happy birthday to your girlfriend.

As soon as the song ended, everyone sat together while eating cake.

"And did you see the way she took the second guy down?" Yelena commented out loud making you shrink slightly in your seat in embarrassment.

"Please, she disarmed the third so fast, the second barely had time to fall." Alexei added proudly, and you exchanged a look with Natasha, who just smiled at you.

"I knew you would find someone as strong as you, Tasha." Melina tells her daughter with a wink, and you think you might cry with happiness.

And you feel that you don't have to worry about impressing any of them because all they do is praise the way you fought off ten agents all by yourself for the next few hours.

/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/

Tag List> @imapotatao / @aimezvousbrahms/ @ensorcellme/ @helloalycia || @mionemymind / @abimess / @stephanieromanoff / @yourtaletotell / @tomy5girls / @justagaypanicking / @thegayw1tch / @idek-5 // @myperfectlovepoem // @helloalycia // @ENSORCELLME // @AIMEZVOUSBRAHMS // @drpepperobsessed // @sighsam // @olsensnpm // @sxfwap // @table57 // @madamevirgo // @causeitswhatjesuswouldfreakingdo // @emptysince18x // @xastrydx || @yuhloversxx || @ymzki-haruki || @wouldirunofftheworldsomeday || @lostandsearching || @lezzzbehonesthere || @musicinourlips || @chaekhan || @diaryoflife || @nervoustrack || @aquamarinescarlet || @cristin-rjd || @idamaemann || @fortunatelynerdylight

[theforgottenmcrmy]

After All (Part 19/?)

Pairing: Riff X OC Jet Girl

Warnings: Explicit Language, References to Violence, Non-Explicit Sexual References, Racism

Summary: She should’ve felt content in his arms. After all, for weeks- no, months- she never would have dreamed such a thing would ever be possible again. Despite that, she couldn’t rest.

Word Count: 15,500 ish.

DISCLAIMER

Please note that this is a reimagining of the film West Side Story (2021) and as a result is slightly AU.

Masterlist /// Part 1 /// Part 18 /// Part 19 /// Part 20

A/N: I had a different GIF planned for this part, but after remembering this scene, I couldn’t help but use this one instead. The context of this chapter made me laugh too much for me not to.😂

Thank you all for being so patient with me while I worked on this chapter. As a thank you, this chapter is a long one. I really hope the wait was worth it, and that you all enjoy it. I was in a bit of a funk before writing this, but by the time I finished it, I think I got back into the groove.

And again, thank you guys for your support. I’ll plan on posting the next part two weeks from today (unless I get a random bout of inspiration and can get it prepared sooner), BUT, in the meantime, I’ll plan on posting another oneshot either this weekend, or around this time next week. Please feel free to keep submitting any requests you may have! I’ve got a few left still, but with this new writing schedule I’m trying out, I’ll be able to write more oneshot requests than I thought I would be able to while the story is still ongoing. And even if you don’t have a request, please feel free to reach out with any thoughts or comments you may have. As always, I love hearing from y’all.😊

Enough babbling from me. I hope you guys enjoy, and I hope you have a great rest of the week.💙

Part 19: Keeping Secrets

Riff’s mouth felt suddenly dry in the wake of Tony’s question, despite the fact that his old pal had posed it plainly enough. “... What was that?”

“When were ya gonna mention you’d been seein’ Grazi?” Tony repeated.

It was a fair question, and it was something Riff had been meaning to talk to Tony about for quite some time. Though the decision to get involved with Grazi at all was questionable at best, at the very least, Riff could argue that nothing had ever transpired between them while Tony and Grazi had still been involved.

Still, Riff found himself at a loss for words.

In the silence of the room, Riff had the sudden realization that it was quiet downstairs in the shop- too quiet. If the guys downstairs were trying to overhear whatever conversation he and Tony were about to have, they just might’ve been able to get a few snippets if the two stayed where they were.

Riff headed to his bedroom, waving at Tony over his shoulder as a gesture for him to follow.

Thankfully, Tony did not protest the idea, and a moment later Riff heard his footsteps following closely behind him. Riff held the door open for Tony, and once they were both inside, he shut the door behind them.

When Riff felt confident that the guys downstairs would have to severely strain themselves to overhear their conversation, he turned to Tony apprehensively.

Tony had on a poker face, as he had since the very moment he’d stepped into the apartment with Riff. That didn’t do much for Riff’s nerves at that moment.

It was quiet for several more moments as the pair stared one another down. The sound of traffic outside leaked into the room through a crack in the window.

Riff was at a point where he was about to blurt something- anything- just to break the tension when Tony smiled.

“I’m just pullin’ your leg, pal.”

It took Riff several long seconds to process Tony’s words. “What?”

“I’m just messin’ with ya.”

“...You’re not mad?”

“Actually, no,” Tony said with a short laugh.

Once Tony’s words processed in Riff’s mind, he let down his guard a bit, and a few nervous laughs slipped from his chest.

“Valentina mentioned she suspected somethin’ when I first moved in... said she overheard some of the girls in Doc’s while I was away. Didn’t take much for her to put two and two together.”

That figured. Riff should’ve suspected that the old witch would’ve said something to him. How could she have resisted another chance to paint him in a less than stellar light?

“Also, there’s the fact that Grazi swung by Doc’s today and told me ‘bout it herself.”

Oh.

…

Oh no.

Riff felt his eyes widen as an involuntary frantic reaction to Tony’s words.

“Yeah,” Tony continued, evidently not noticing Riff’s slip in composure. “There was somethin’ ‘bout the way she said it, though. She sounded like she was worried it was gonna start somethin’ between us- like she was surprised ya hadn’t told me.”

Though Tony said he wasn’t mad, he did sound a little bit sad during his recollection of what happened, and as a result, Riff’s guilt skyrocketed.

“I meant to tell ya, I really did,” Riff swore sincerely. “But I’ve only seen ya a handful of times since ya got cut loose! … There was never a good moment.”

Tony nodded understandingly. “And just ‘bout each time we’ve seen each other, it’s ended the same… With a whole lotta yellin’.”

Riff couldn’t help but snicker at the thought of their previous meetings. At the shop, right after Tony was released. In Doc’s, when Riff needed Tony’s help to find Roxie. In Doc’s again, to thank him for finding Roxie and to arrange a meeting in the park. In the park, when they both took in the damage that had been done to the wall…

… Four times?

Had Riff really only seen Tony four times since he’d been released? Tony had been out for the better part of a couple of months now… And each time they had met, it had always ended in an argument, or the conversation had one specific purpose. 

Tony was supposed to be like family to Riff. Hell, he still was, even in light of his new peacekeeping and “changed ways” crap he’d been trying to sell him.

“I’m tired of arguin’ with ya,” Tony admitted solemnly.

“Me too, pal,” Riff agreed, tiredly but full-heartedly.

 “Look, you're not gonna change your mind about me comin’ back to the Jets, and I know I’m not gonna change mine ‘bout stayin’ away,” Tony said. “So, why don’t we just take a break from tryin’ to convince each other? Let’s just… be.”

Riff knew that if things with the Sharks continued down the path that they were, he would need Tony beside him. He also believed with every small inkling of hope left in him that if that were the case, Tony would be able to see that, and he would come back to the Jets the second Riff asked.

But, in an admittedly rare occurrence, Riff was willing to set all that aside for a bit in light of the eye-opening revelations he’d had after the run in with Mr. Barone. Riff had only seen Tony four times since he’d been released, and the unfortunate run-in Riff had had with Mr. Barone just the previous week made it so much more apparent to him that it was not nearly enough. Riff could’ve died, and he never would’ve set things straight with Tony.

Riff missed Tony, plain and simple as that. If getting off the soap box about trying to convince Tony to become a full-fledged Jet again was what it would take for them to begin to get back to how they used to be, Riff would do it in a heartbeat.

“I’d like that a lot.”

“You’re like a brother to me, Riff.”

Though Riff had thought as much about Tony to himself a million times and agreed completely, in that moment, Riff found himself unable to reciprocate the words back to him. Instead, Riff opted to lighten up the conversation. “But brothers fight, don’t they?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Tony chuckled with a small smile. “That they do.”

A comfortable silence followed.

Tony took the moment to begin walking around the bedroom, politely glossing over the very limited personal belongings Riff owned that resided within it. 

Riff watched him curiously before he realized it would’ve been the first time Tony had seen the room in its current state. Riff couldn’t even remember the last time Tony would’ve been in the apartment since his uncle had all but kicked him out.

Tony’s eyes fell onto the desk, and the pile of papers and accounts that littered the surface of it. “This what Roxie’s been helpin’ ya with?”

Riff nodded.

Tony took a second to look over the documents, though Riff wasn’t sure how much sense he would’ve been able to make of them. Riff knew he hadn’t for the longest time, not until Roxie had shown him how. But maybe the “warden” over at Doc’s had taught him a thing or two about keeping up with the books of a business.

“Wow,” Tony noted suddenly, breaking Riff from his thoughts.

“What?”

“Didn’t know the shop was doin’ this good,” Tony elaborated, holding up a piece of paper for Riff to see.

It was the notice from the bank, stating that the late payment that Roxie had contributed to had been accepted. In all the excitement that had followed Riff’s confrontation, when he had presented the letter to Roxie, he’d forgotten to put the paper away and out of sight. Even though Riff, and now Roxie, were the only ones to frequent his bedroom, putting away the document when he had had the chance would have prevented Tony from seeing it at that particular moment.

“Well, it ain’t. Not really,” Riff replied vaguely.

“Where’d ya even get this kinda money?” Tony wondered incredulously. He placed the notice back down on the table as the gears in his mind began to turn. Suddenly, he stood up straight. “... I can’t believe it.”

“Believe what?” Riff asked, feeling the abrupt shift in energy in the room.

“Ya did it again, didn’t you?” Tony accused, narrowing his eyes.

“Did what?”

Tony scoffed, mistaking Riff’s confusion for feigning innocence. “Ya went to the gamblin’ houses, didn’t you?”

Riff flinched at Tony’s raised voice. Once he recovered, he shushed him harshly. “Will ya keep your voice down?!” Riff snapped back. “Not everyone downstairs knows ‘bout that!”

“Why not? Are ya embarrassed by it?” Tony challenged. “Well, ya should be! You’re better off embarrassed for doin’ somethin’ so stupid than gettin’ away with it now and windin’ up dead later.”

If only you knew.

Riff took a second to compose himself. “Listen, Tony, I know how this looks, but Roxie and I haven’t been to no gamblin’ house since we got the money we needed to pay off Asim. I swear to ya, on my ma’s grave.”

Tony’s facial expression softened considerably as he processed Riff’s words and the seriousness of them. “Fine, fine… I believe ya. But where’d the money come from, then?”

There was an opening. A chance for Riff to come clean to Tony about Mr. Barone, the truth of the night Riff and Roxie got picked up by the cops two winters back, and everything related that had happened since. Riff could tell Tony about all of it, and it would only further put his friendship with Tony back on the mend. Riff could’ve done it at that very moment, but something stopped him.

Riff had already told Roxie that everything that had happened with Mr. Barone had to stay between them.

Riff meant it when he’d told Roxie that’s just how it had to be, and he had made some valid points at the time. If any word got out about anything that had happened, and god forbid Mr. Barone found out about the spilled beans, the information would’ve had to come from him, Roxie, or Tony. And since Riff and Roxie would be the ones to pay for it directly, by mortal means, it wouldn’t likely be leaked by either of them.

But at that moment, it was just Riff and Tony. Roxie wasn’t there,  And though it was inarguably wiser in the long run to take the loss and risk pissing Tony off further by not telling him the truth, Riff couldn’t pass up the opportunity to further brush things over with Tony. Plus, Riff couldn’t deny how good it would feel to get everything that had happened off his chest and tell someone.

He could only hope keeping the secret from Roxie would be worth it with Tony in the long run.

Tony can be trusted to keep a secret… Right?

Tony had been waiting patiently for several long, quiet moments as Riff sorted through his thoughts. As Riff snapped back to reality, he saw that Tony looked at him expectantly, waiting for him to explain himself.

“If I tell ya the truth about where I got that money, ya swear you’ll never say nothin’, to no one?”

Tony’s expression faltered at Riff’s sudden seriousness. “You’re startin’ to scare me, Riff.”

Riff opted to ignore his joke. “If I tell ya, you can’t tell Roxie ya know,” Riff informed him bluntly. “I already told her we shouldn’t tell ya. Honestly, you’re probably better off if ya don’t even know ‘bout it at all, but since ya already know most of it-”

“-What’re ya goin’ on about?” Tony interjected.

“If ya wanna know where I got the money,” Riff redirected himself, “and where Roxie got her cut-”

“-Roxie has money like this too?!”

“Not anymore. If ya wanna know where we got the money, we gotta go back.”

Tony’s brows furrowed. “... Back a few months ago?”

“What do you remember about that night me and Roxie got picked up?”

Tony’s face went blank. “What night?”

Riff looked at him pointedly.

“That night?”

“One in the same. If ya wanna know the truth about where this money came from, we gotta start there. But ya gotta promise me that what I tell ya stays between us. If it don’t, you’re puttin’ a target on not just me, but on Roxie too.”

Judging by the look on his face, Tony was finally starting to realize the gravity of the conversation Riff was trying to have with him. “Sure pal, I swear.”

“You’ll take the secret with ya to the grave?” Riff questioned, needing to be absolutely certain in his decision.

As much as coming fully clean to Tony would be easier on him, keeping it a secret from Roxie would be just as hard, especially after everything they’d been through. But Riff wasn’t sure how many more opportunities, if any, he’d have to set things right with Tony.

“Womb to tomb,” Tony vowed.

Riff smiled. “Sperm to worm.”

————————————————————————————

Roxie’s mind was still reeling from the blunt and awkward conversation she’d had with Grazi and Velma when she made it back to the auto shop later that afternoon.

“Uncomfortable” would’ve been an understatement if describing what had transpired. But, Grazi had asked for the details, and Roxie provided them.

Still, the only thing Roxie had on her mind as she entered through the open garage door was to find Riff and forget about the whole thing. And if the opportunity to vent about it came along, she just might have considered taking it. 

Upon entering the shop, Roxie immediately noticed the decently sized gathering of Jets. Despite their large number and the small sea of faces that turned to look at her, she quickly realized that Riff was not among them.

As if reading her mind, Diesel said to her, “He’s upstairs.”

Roxie gave him a grateful smile.

As she walked across the shop and headed up the stairs, she couldn’t help but feel the eyes of the Jets watching her curiously. Though she’d heard their teasing about her relationship with Riff countless times throughout the years, she didn’t know why her going upstairs to the apartment to speak with him would pique their interest in such a manner.

Eventually, Roxie forced herself to accept that she was imagining them watching her. Surely she was just still feeling a bit pent up about what had gone down at Velma’s, and was feeling self conscious.

Despite assuring herself that the Jets hadn’t been watching her head up to the apartment with intrigued looks on their faces, Roxie was glad to be out of their sight completely, just in case. She opened the apartment door quickly, slid inside, and promptly shut it behind her.

The living area was empty.

“Riff?” she called out into the room, confused. “Diesel said you were up here…”

“In here!” came Riff’s muffled voice from his bedroom.

Roxie smiled to herself in relief and headed over towards the closed door. She closed her eyes tiredly as she wrapped her hand around the doorknob, turned it, and began to open the door. “You will not believe the conversation I just had with-”

“Hi, Roxie.”

Roxie’s eyes shot open. What she saw made her realize that the Jets had been watching her downstairs- they must’ve known the scene she was walking into.

There was Tony, standing by the desk. Riff was a few feet away, giving her a small smile.

“Tony!” she acknowledged in mild surprise. Her eyes went to Tony, to Riff, and back to Tony again. “What are you doing here?”

From what Riff and Tony had told her, Roxie knew the pair had not been on speaking terms since Tony got released from prison. They each had their reasons, and they were each as equally as stubborn. Those reasons made the fact that the two were in the same room, enjoying a somewhat simple, peaceful moment together all the more shocking.

“He just came by to talk some stuff out,” Riff answered for him, eyeing Tony briefly out of the corner of his eye.

Roxie caught the odd gesture, but didn’t pay it much mind in the grand scheme of the bigger spectacle before her.

Tony and Riff were in the same room- and they weren’t even arguing! They didn’t even look mad. Hell, Tony looked so far from mad, Roxie would’ve laughed at his expression if she hadn’t been so shocked.

“And… did you talk things out?” Roxie prompted.

Tony glanced at Riff, and then looked back at her. “We’re still workin’ on it, but yeah. We did.”

The look Tony was giving Roxie was an odd one. His eyes looked borderline emotional, like he knew something that she did not. It was almost as if he was viewing her in a whole other light.

Whatever Tony was thinking, his staring certainly did nothing to ease Roxie’s self consciousness.

Roxie glanced at Riff, whose expression was even harder to read.

Roxie couldn’t help but wonder what they’d been discussing before she’d entered the apartment. She would’ve paid a pretty penny to have been privy to their conversation. Still, if Riff and Tony had talked some things out, whatever that may have entailed, and if they were on the way to fixing their friendship because of it, Roxie would count her blessings.

“Well… I’m glad the two of you are working on fixing things,” she told them both.

Roxie meant it, too. Though Riff’s expression was decently guarded in that particular moment, he glanced at Tony every now and then, and Roxie could tell by his eyes that he was content with the situation. If she dared, she may have even deemed that he looked happy.

When was the last time the three of them had been in a room together at the same time?

It was with mild sadness that Roxie realized it had to have been almost a couple of years prior. It would’ve been before Tony got sent upstate, before the rumble with the Egyptian Kings, and before Riff had been sentenced to serve a month in the county jail.

Once upon a time, the trio had been nearly inseparable… but that was before fate had played out like it did. Thinking about who they’d each been then in comparison to the people standing in the room now made Roxie feel somewhat nostalgic.

Suddenly, an idea struck her. Roxie and Riff were supposed to spend the evening together, but given the current predicament, and the verbal promise she’d recently made to Tony to catch up with him soon…

“Since we’re all here,” Roxie said, “Why don’t we go grab a bite to eat?”

Roxie looked at Riff, wordlessly asking if he’d mind the third wheel tag along to their evening. She found no indication of protest from him. In fact, he seemed very receptive to the idea.

Riff looked at Tony curiously. “What do ya say, pal?”

Tony looked at them both for a moment, before slowly shaking his head with a sheepish smile. “Nah, I can’t tonight. I’d love to, but I’m expectin’ a visit from my parole officer any day now.”

Roxie couldn’t help but feel disappointed by Tony’s response, even though she understood his excuse.

Tony noticed her disappointment immediately. “I’ll tell ya what- I’ll reach out to the two of you right after his next visit, and we can plan somethin’ then. There’s no way the guy will visit twice in a week.”

“You promise?” Roxie teased.

‘Yeah, yeah,” Tony said dismissively, though his smile never left his face. “Welp, I’ll let you twos get on with your evenin’.”

“See ya, Tony,” Riff bid him.

Tony walked towards the bedroom door, and gave Roxie one last odd look as he passed her. “See ya, Roxie.”

“Bye, Tony.”

Roxie looked at Riff once Tony left the bedroom and waited until the front door to the apartment closed shut behind him. Riff’s somewhat guarded expression softened a bit as he took her in. 

“What was that about?” Roxie wondered, referring to the strange way in which Tony had been looking at her.

Riff merely shrugged. “It’s a long story, Doll.”

It really wasn’t an acceptable answer for her, and Roxie would’ve encouraged Riff to elaborate upon it, if he hadn’t continued on.

“What were ya sayin’ on the way in?”

Right, Velma… and Grazi. Roxie involuntarily sighed as the thoughts of the conversation she’d had earlier that afternoon came racing back to the forefront of her mind.

Riff gave her a sympathetic look, noting her sombering expression. “Rough day?”

“You don’t know half of it.”

“Talk to me ‘bout it, then.”

Riff opened his arms towards her, and Roxie crossed the room in a few short steps. Once she reached him, she threw her arms around him tightly, and pressed the side of her face against his chest. Her pent-up feelings must’ve still been affecting her, and she unwittingly held on to Riff much tighter than she had intended to.

Riff looked down at her curiously, though he remained firm where he stood. “Woah, there. Everythin’ alright?”

Feeling even more self-conscious, Roxie’s grip on Riff loosened considerably. Much to her relief, Riff wrapped his arms around her instead, keeping her close to him.

“You’ll never believe who I spoke with today,” Roxie said quietly, her face still pressed up against his chest. She was thankful for the excuse not to meet his eyes as the stress she’d experienced earlier in the day clouded over her mind once again.

“Let me guess… Starts with a ‘G’, and ends in ‘razi’?”

Roxie turned and lifted up her head to look at him. “How did you know?”

“Tony mentioned somethin’ ‘bout her swingin’ by Doc’s,” Riff answered simply.

Grazi hadn’t mentioned anything of the sort earlier in the day, but it didn’t sound like something she wouldn’t do. Had Grazi even known Tony got released before? … It hadn’t exactly been on Roxie’s priority list to see to it that she’d known, but Roxie would’ve guessed that someone would’ve broken the news to her by now.

On the other hand, maybe one of the other Jets girls would have told her about Tony, if Grazi hadn’t been avoiding their calls lately.

“I’m still trying to wrap my head around all of it,” Roxie said, not caring to specify any further.

Sensing her mild distress, Riff pressed a light kiss to the top of her head. The gesture was small, but it did wonders to soothe her worries and ease her self-consciousness. “Why don’t we go grab a bite to eat?” he proposed. “We can talk ‘bout it then.”

The idea of spending some quality one on one time with Riff sounded extremely appealing after the day Roxie had had.“Sounds perfect.”

“I was hopin’ so,” Riff said casually. “Especially since we didn’t exactly make it out of the apartment last night…”

Roxie slapped his chest half-heartedly, and she felt a small blush creep onto her cheeks. “That’s rich, coming from someone who was just as guilty for that.”

“I’m not complainin’,” Riff assured her, pecking her nose. “Just sayin’.”

Roxie rolled her eyes playfully, before moving on with the topic at hand before either of them got too distracted. “Now, dinner- where did you have in mind?”

Riff gave her a knowing look.

“You can’t be serious,” Roxie moaned, burying her face in Riff’s chest once again at the thought of his wordless suggestion.

“I mean, really, what’s the harm?” Riff asked her. “Are we just gonna stay away from the diner forever, all ‘cause of what happened? It’s our place, Roxie. What do we have to lose?”

Besides each other?

Maybe it was the stress of the day, or the shock from seeing Tony and Riff speaking civilly to each other, or maybe even the fact that Riff had her wrapped around his finger, whether he knew that or not, but Roxie couldn’t find the motivation to protest the absolutely ridiculous idea in her current state.

“Fine. But you’re letting me pay for half of it.”

“Fine.”

“... You know, sometimes I think you’re a bad influence on me,” Roxie commented, only half-seriously.

She felt the rumbling in Riff’s chest against the side of her face as he let out a sudden, sharp laugh in response to her statement and wrapped his arms tighter around her.

————————————————————————————

After a surprisingly unceremonious meal at their diner, much to Riff and Roxie’s relief, Riff felt much better when Roxie finally seemed to be cheering up a bit.

Despite everything that Riff had been through that day, and what Roxie had been through, per her account of the story to him, it seemed that all the lingering negative feelings had been left behind in the presence of each other.

There was an air between them that was happy, content… and as ironic as it sounded, peaceful. Riff didn’t want to risk anything disrupting the good mood they found themselves in, so when he suggested taking a longer way back to the shop, he was relieved when Roxie readily agreed.

It was dark out, but not late enough that there would be any additional cause for concern that they might run into someone with ill intent. In fact, it was even earlier than it would have been if Riff had been walking Roxie home from the factory.

When two of them came across the site of the future Lincoln Center, Roxie paused.

“Everythin’ okay?” Riff asked, unable to stop a bit of worry from rising within him when she had suddenly dropped his hand and turned to face the fence.

Roxie looked at the large sign depicting an image of the planned building and campus for only a moment, before taking a step closer to the fence. She stood up on her toes, as if that would make a notable difference for how much of the construction site she could see. But even though it was dark, and the construction site, which had been abandoned for the day, had no lights shining within it, Riff had a feeling that Roxie would be able to see enough of it in the glow of the streetlights. Her fingers wrapped around some openings in the chain link fence to give her some balance and ground her.

Riff took a step towards the fence as well, and came to mimic her stance. However, he didn’t have to stand on his toes.

“This is the first time I’ve seen it,” Roxie admitted, her voice so quiet Riff almost didn’t hear her.

Riff looked down at Roxie, trying to read what she was thinking. However, Roxie’s eyes were still focused in front of her, across the construction site. The soft howling of wind filled the air as Riff patiently waited for her to say something.

“It looks like it’s several blocks,” Roxie realized out loud.

“Yeah… it is.”

Riff looked back up and over towards the construction site as well, knowing that Roxie was seeing the same exact thing he had seen just a few months beforehand when the demolition had initially started.

A few blocks of the neighborhood had been purchased by the New York Committee for Slum Clearance. One day, the chain link fence they stood before now had suddenly appeared around the several blocks, containing structures that still resembled the houses and businesses that had blended in amongst the rest of the neighborhood.

At first, Riff’s initial thought was that if the Slum Clearance Committee had the resources to buy up blocks of the neighborhood, what business would they have going after Riff’s uncle’s little auto shop? Unfortunately, the seriousness of the situation had sunk in soon after.

Demolition started about a week after the fence had gone up. What resulted was something that had the appearance of a graveyard, but with remnants of buildings in lieu of actual graves. Not all the buildings had been cleared out before the demolition began, and the more furniture that was exposed, the eerier of a place it became. The remaining structure of one building had a small pile of bathtubs that the construction workers had placed there in order for them to be out of the way. On one of the higher levels of another hollowed out structure that remained, some curtains were still attached to the window in what looked like what had once been a bedroom. The tattered fabric would sway on particularly windy days.

Riff was no construction expert by any means, but the technique behind the demolition process seemed questionable. The workers started to demolish many of the buildings right through the middle, leaving the outer walls and rooms of those buildings exposed for any passerby to see.

It was almost as if they wanted the rest of the neighborhood to see. Riff dared to wonder if the Slum Clearance Committee reveled in their cruel display that so clearly depicted their intentions with the neighborhood. Would any of them be safe?

“It’s not going to be for us anymore, is it?”

Roxie’s oddly phrased question pulled Riff away from his somber memories. He turned his head to look down towards her once more.

As if Roxie felt his eyes on her, she tore her focus away from the construction site and looked back up at him. “The neighborhood, I mean,” she clarified. “People like you and me… we won’t belong here anymore. Not when they’re done with it.”

Roxie sounded so resolute. Perhaps it was the first time such a thought had actually dawned on her enough that she considered it a real possibility.

Riff wasn’t sure what exactly to say in response. As much as he hated the very thought of it himself, he didn’t want to lie to her. “If the Slum Clearance Committee gets their way? … Yeah.”

“What if there is no other place for us?”

That was a big question, and Riff knew the deeper meaning behind Roxie’s words without her having to explain herself.

In a year, or even just months down the road, the worst case scenario could very well happen, and they’d all be forced to leave the neighborhood. Even if they could even find some other burrough that they could actually afford to live in, it’d probably be a bit away from the West Side. They’d have to find other ways to make a living. And they were likely to be neighborhoods away from their closest friends…

Roxie had once told him that if she left the neighborhood, she wouldn’t be leaving alone. Riff hoped with all his heart that she meant it. He hoped he and Roxie would still be together if that happened, and he was willing to do whatever it would take to see to it that they were. That way, if they were forced to leave, them being together would at least be some consolation. They’d at least have each other.

But Roxie had a point. What if they couldn’t find somewhere else they could afford to live? What if they couldn’t find other ways to make money? The West Side was all either of them ever known, and it had once had everything they thought they’d ever need. The place wasn’t glamorous, but it was home. And their home was in jeopardy of disappearing forever and becoming something new.

“Then we’ll stay here,” Riff proposed, smiling conspiratorially. “Make ‘em regret they ever tried to get rid of people like us.”

Maybe that would be the only option. If dealing with some pesky Sharks and pulling up the bootstraps to make the New York Committee for Slum Clearance regret their attempt to take the auto shop meant that Riff, Roxie, and all of the rest of the Jets could stay in the West Side, it would all be more than worth it.

“It would be a little bit funny,” Roxie acknowledged his hypothetical plan with a small smile.

A mental image of him, Roxie, and the rest of the Jets sticking out like a sore thumb amongst the new neighborhood and its fancy new residents was pretty humorous, and it brought a small smirk to Riff’s face. He liked the idea of sticking it to the people who were trying to run them out. He liked that Roxie wasn’t entirely opposed to the idea even more.

Riff slowly moved one of his hands to rest over her hand that was closest to him, where it was still wrapped around the chain link fence. Roxie leaned over, and rested her head on his arm.

“What do you think it’ll be like?” Roxie asked then, tilting her chin ever so slightly towards the construction site.

From what Riff had seen on the image fixed to the fence right beside them, only a single word came to mind. “Big.”

Roxie let out a laugh, effectively relieving some of the tension. Riff smirked and shook his head as he tried to contain his own laughter that threatened to break out.

“All those fancy shows… And almost everyone in them and everyone else seeing them won’t even know or remember what used to be here before it.”

Riff pressed a light kiss to the top of Roxie’s head. “But we will.”

Roxie nodded against his arm, before leaning further into his side.

“Ya know what?” Riff asked suddenly, struck with an idea. “I’ll make ya a deal.”

“What’s that?”

“In a few years, when all this buildin’ is said and done, and we’re still here, I’ll take ya to a show.”

Roxie scoffed, finding the idea amusing. “Riff, with all due respect, that doesn’t seem like your ‘scene’.”

It definitely wouldn’t be, but Riff was more than willing to get over any uncomfortableness he may feel if it meant Roxie would have a good time. “Would ya wanna go, or not?”

“... I mean, I guess, but-”

“Nope,” Riff replied, popping the ending of the word. “No buts, it’s a done deal.”

Roxie laughed once and turned to lean into his side further. Her free hand, the one not covered by Riff’s, came across and rested on his arm.

“You may have to remind me though,” Riff added, smiling fondly as he watched Roxie shuffle closer to him. “Ya know I can barely keep things straight from one week to the next, never mind a few years.”

“No kidding,” Roxie teased. “I’d like to forget the past few years myself.”

Riff could tell she meant it as a joke, but something still bothered him in the wake of her words. “... You’d wanna forget all of it?”

Roxie sighed gently. “No, not all of it, I guess… Just the time I could’ve been spending with you.”

Guilt washed over Riff immediately. It was similar to the guilt he had felt walking away from her well over a year and a half ago, but this time, it was much stronger. Every time Roxie mentioned anything after him walking away, and she referred to herself as being anything less than happy, how could Riff not feel awful about it? Riff knew now that perhaps it was wrong of him to make the decision he did at the time… but hearing Roxie confirm such things aloud was something else altogether.

Riff chuckled bitterly. “I really thought I knew it all back then, huh?”

“Maybe… I thought I did too. But I shouldn’t have let you take the fall in the first place, and I know that now. I don’t have any priors- Schrank never would’ve been able to get away with putting those charges on me like he did on you.”

Riff wasn’t expecting the conversation to take such a trip down memory lane, especially when considering the conversation he had with Tony just a few hours before. There was no way Roxie could have known that Tony was now well aware of the night she was referring to, as well as everything that had happened with them involving Mr. Barone. It was almost like fate was tempting him to come clean to her. But doing that would only throw a wrench in things, and Riff was not interested in doing anything that would potentially ruin the good evening that they’d been having so far.

Riff didn’t want to keep talking about the subject; the more he talked, the more he felt like he was tempting fate and he would accidentally let the conversation he had with Tony slip.

However, there was one thing he needed to make clear about that night. Again.

“There’s absolutely nothin’ that would’ve talked me out of takin’ the fall, Roxie.”

Her grip on his arm tightened. “And you’re certain about that?

“Yeah, I am. I don’t regret it, either.”

“… Really?”

Riff nodded, even though she wasn’t looking at him. “I regret what I did after it… but not that. Not then, not now, not ever.”

Roxie dropped her hand from the chain link fence and Riff’s fell along with it. Before Riff could ask her what was wrong, she fully turned to face him, and lifted her hands to lightly rest on the sides of his face, so that his focus could only be on her. Not that he would’ve wanted it anywhere else at the moment.

“I love you.”

Riff swore he would never, ever get tired of hearing Roxie say that. He smiled brightly before leaning down and closing the distance between their lips.

It may have been a peculiar scene, should anyone happen to come across them sharing an intimate moment in the foreground of an unnervingly massive construction site. But neither of them cared.

————————————————————————————

A few hours later, Diesel was hanging out on the shop floor and nursing a bottle of whiskey. He’d actually purchased said alcohol legitimately, which was admittingly, a bit of a rare occurrence. But as much fun as running around and stirring up trouble was, there was something about relaxing after a hard day’s work and enjoying a drink… It was a good feeling. It was a good feeling that Diesel could get used too.

Hypothetically speaking, of course.

As he drank, his mind wandered to earlier that afternoon, to the near circus-like events that had occurred.

The very moment Riff and Roxie headed out for the evening, the theories about what Tony, Riff, and then Roxie had been talking about began to fly around. 

Anybodys had suggested that maybe Tony had a change of heart, and that he was finally coming back around to the Jets. Things with the Sharks were steadily becoming worse and worse, and now would be a better time than ever for Tony to come back into the ranks. They all knew it.

But then Tiger pointed out that if that had been true, why hadn’t Tony stuck around after to hang out with them for a bit? He’d left before Riff and Roxie had, with little more than a “See ya ‘round, fellas.” Snowboy agreed- there was still the problem of Tony’s parole officer to contend with, even if Tony was ready to come back around.

Eventually, Diesel told them all to shove it and suggested they mind their business.

After that, most of the rest of the gang that had gathered headed over to the park for some basketball, just as Big Deal had proposed earlier in the day. But as they exited the shop, the theorizing continued, and it was clear that the topic of what had happened earlier in the day was still fresh in all of their minds.

Just like it was still on Diesel’s.

Eventually, the only Jets that remained in the shop were the ones that crashed there.

Diesel was fine having a relaxing night in. He loved Velma, but he’d been on one too many group dates lately for his liking. Plus, she mentioned having some plans with some of the other girls. Velma had felt guilty about it, but Diesel assured her that he’d be fine for an evening without her company.

Snowboy was out with Gussie again. Diesel didn’t expect him back anytime soon.

Gee-Tar was out doing… whatever it was that Gee-Tar got up to in his free time away from the rest of the guys. If Diesel was a betting man, he’d say Gee-Tar was out seeing that mystery lady of his again.

But the thought of that bothered Diesel a bit. Gee-Tar could see whoever he liked, Diesel could give a rat’s ass about that. But from what he had told them earlier that day, Gee-Tar was likely to be cruising for a bruising from some Sharks if he kept seeing the girl. The Jets would rally to the cause if that happened, but Diesel couldn’t help but wonder why Gee-Tar, who’d always been notorious for being risk avoidant in general, would even bother taking the chance for some girl. There were plenty of girls in the city… and the majority of them didn’t live in the same building as a good chunk of the Sharks and their girls.

Riff and Roxie had gotten back about an hour past. They’d greeted Diesel, who was cleaning up around the shop, before promptly heading upstairs.

It’s not like they explicitly told him what they’d be doing up there… But Diesel wasn’t dumb. He’d caught them both decently red handed in the apartment that morning, with Riff half-dressed in the kitchen and Roxie leaving the bathroom carrying Riff’s missing shirt. Diesel could put two and two together. It was abundantly clear that, at the very least, Roxie had spent the night.

They were adults, they could do whatever they damned pleased. Diesel certainly did. But just because Riff and Roxie could do as they wished, that didn’t mean Diesel needed to know their business. And if that meant relaxing downstairs for a while to give them a little privacy after coming back from their date, Diesel would do so happily.

After sitting downstairs for about an hour or so, just relaxing and drinking, Diesel was starting to feel pretty swell.

When he actually started to feel a bit warm from the alcohol, Diesel decided he’d had enough. He tugged at the collar of his shirt a bit in a vain attempt to cool down. When he realized the effort was futile, he rose from his makeshift seat he’d made out of a closed toolbox and headed to the back corner of the shop.

A couple of old tires and various car parts he and some of the other guys had scrounged up from the junkyard over the past few months had their home in the said back corner. It was out of the way, and unless one of them had a need for something particular back there, no one ever messed with the pile of stuff.

It was the perfect hiding spot for Diesel to store his whiskey.

Now, Diesel would share his alcohol with any of the guys who asked, but he didn’t necessarily trust all of them to actually ask him. Some of them had more of a reputation for sticky fingers than others, and for good reason. Sure, every man deserved to be able to indulge in alcohol, if only a little bit… Diesel especially. Because he was the one actually buying.

Once Diesel was satisfied with his effort to camouflage the bottle in between some old torn up tires, he stood up straight, dusted his hands off, and smiled down at his handy work.

The sound of shuffling feet on the concrete floor made Diesel turn towards the open garage door abruptly. He’d left it open earlier so that he could get some fresh air, but business hours were well past.

Diesel walked back towards the center of the shop and smiled in relief as Gee-Tar, who was lingering near the garage door, came into view.

“Where ya been, buddy?” Diesel asked him curiously. “Another hot date with your lady friend?”

Gee-Tar glared at him, which Diesel should have expected given his teasing, but it was still a bit out of character for him.

“I’m goin’ to bed,” Gee-Tar grumbled.

“Sure, pal,” Diesel said easily, reading the room immediately, and not wanting to make Gee-Tar’s sour mood any more bitter.

Gee-Tar said nothing as he walked past Diesel and headed over towards the stairs.

Diesel couldn’t help but notice how oddly Gee-star walked as he trudged along. Besides the fact that he was moving pretty slowly in general, his feet dragged along the concrete.

Diesel was still watching him curiously when Gee-Tar finally reached the staircase. Gee-Tar visibly took a deep breath before slowly lifting up a foot towards the first stair.

Nothing had ever sobered up Diesel quicker than watching Gee-Tar flinch and fall down, landing roughly on the stairs.

Gee-Tar hissed and grabbed at his right side as Diesel ran over to him.

“What the hell happened?” Diesel demanded, panicked on behalf of his friend. He reached out a hand to Gee-Tar’s closest arm in order to help him up, but Gee-Tar leaned away and out of his reach.

“Nothin’, nothin’,” Gee-Tar said firmly, though his words came out through gritted teeth. He swatted Diesel’s hand away lightly.

Diesel was no doctor, and by that time, he had had more than a few gulps of whiskey, but even he knew that something was seriously wrong with Gee-Tar, despite his friend’s efforts to convince him otherwise. “Is it your side that’s botherin’ ya?”

“I’m fine!”

Diesel stood up straight, temporarily giving up on assisting Gee-Tar, who was still laying across the bottom few stairs. Diesel took a few steps up the staircase before Gee-Tar managed to turn and give him a baffled look.

“Where are ya goin’?!” he demanded.

“I’m goin’ to get Riff,” Diesel replied plainly.

“What?” Gee-Tar gawked. “No!”

“Listen, I can’t deal with this by myself right now,” Diesel admitted tiredly. He had yet to cool down from the alcohol, and with Gee-Tar’s latest predicament, he was quickly growing more and more fatigued. As a result, his words came out rushed. “And since you’re obviously not gonna tell me what’s really goin’ on, I’m goin’ to get Riff.”

All previous thoughts of whether Riff was preoccupied in that moment had flown out the window, and Diesel took another step past Gee-Tar up the stairs.

“Come on, Deez,” Gee-Tar pleaded, grabbing Diesel’s ankle and stopping him. “Ain't anyone else here? What ‘bout Roxie?”

Roxie might’ve been preoccupied in the moment too, but Diesel spared explaining that to Gee-Tar as he thought over the other Jet’s suggestion. It was common knowledge among the guys who’d been around the longest that Roxie had been known to fix up a Jet or two when the occasion called for it.

“… If I go and get Roxie, you’ll let her take a look at ya?”

Gee-Tar eyed him for a moment before eventually relenting and giving him a quick nod.

Diesel proceeded up the stairs.

“Don’t worry, I won’t go anywhere,” Gee-Tar joked, though his attempt at humor came across quite feebly when one realized that he was still laying on the bottom stairs, presumably in too much pain to stand up.

Despite the situation, Diesel rolled his eyes at Gee-Tar’s poor excuse for a joke as he opened the door and entered the apartment.

————————————————————————————

A loud ruckus had woken Roxie up.

She heard something, something loud that jarred her from sleep, and it sounded like it had come from downstairs in the shop.

Diesel had been the only one down there when she and Riff had gotten in an hour or so before, which made her suspect one of two things: either Diesel had knocked something over and possibly gotten himself hurt, or someone else had joined him and made some trouble for him.

If Diesel had company, it could’ve been the cops, it could’ve been some Sharks… it even could’ve been Roff and Roxie’s good old friend, Mr. Barone. However, none of those options were ideal, and each one scared her for a different reason.

Roxie got up and out of bed carefully before quickly getting dressed.

She left Riff laying in bed; he was still fast asleep. As concerned as she was, she figured she could wake him up later, if there was even a reason too. Since Roxie wasn’t certain what she had heard, or what was going on, she decided to leave Riff be for the time being. He looked so calm too… she honestly didn’t have the heart to wake him.

Thankfully, after a few visits to the shop, Roxie discovered that Riff’s bat, which she knew he’d taken to the previous rumbles, never moved from its spot of leaning against the wall behind his bedroom door. Roxie hoped Riff had placed the bat in that exact spot for moments like the one she found herself in, in the case of a potential breaking and entering… and that the bat hadn’t been used for anything else recently.

Roxie grabbed the bat in both hands, only taking a hand off for a moment in order to carefully open the bedroom door. 

As she slipped out into the living room, both hands gripped the bat tightly once again. She began to slowly lift the bat higher with each step she took, ready to strike at a moment's notice.

When the front door opened from across the room, Roxie lifted the bat behind her, and mentally prepared herself to take a swing.

The door opened, revealing Diesel.

As soon as he saw her, he did a double take, and quickly lifted his arms to defend himself. “Jesus!” he exclaimed. “What’re ya doin?!”

“Diesel! You scared the hell out of me!” Roxie hissed, lowering the bat. Despite that she was very angry, the fact that Riff was still fast asleep in the other room did not slip from her mind. “I heard a noise. Is something going on?”

Diesel finally dropped his hands and while composure visibly softened a little, he still looked on edge. “It’s Gee-Tar.”

“What’s wrong? Is he hurt?”

“I don’t know- he fell, and now he’s lyin’ on the stairs as we speak. Will ya come take a look at him?”

Roxie nodded, and the frustration she felt quickly dissipated and was replaced with concern. “Of course. Let me go get Riff-“

“No!” Diesel insisted, holding a hand out in her direction as if to stop her from taking a single step. “Gee-Tar’s actin’ weird ‘bout it.”

It wasn’t much of an explanation, but Gee-Tar behaving in a peculiar manner wasn’t that far out of the realm of possibility, nor something that was unexpected, so Roxie took Diesel’s word for it. “Give me a minute,” she told him quickly.

After returning the bat to Riff’s bedroom, checking to make sure that he was still fast asleep, putting on her shoes, and shutting the bedroom door and then the front door behind her, Roxie hastily followed Diesel down the stairs, where she immediately spotted Gee-Tar’s large figure sprawled across the bottom.

“What happened?” Roxie demanded as she finished descending the stairs.

Gee-Tar propped himself up, but still managed to grasp at his right side. Even though Gee-Tar looked at Roxie like he was grateful to see her, he said nothing.

“He was headin’ upstairs, and he just fell,” Diesel supplied, coming to a stop right beside Roxie at the bottom of the stairs, where they both looked down at Gee-Tar with a mix of confusion and concern.

“What happened?” Roxie asked Gee-star directly, bending down to get closer to him.

Gee-Tar looked at her apprehensively, and then his eyes flashed over to Diesel. “… I got jumped.”

“You what?“ Roxie gasped, unable to fully process his words.

Diesel fumed beside her. “It was the Sharks, wasn’t it?”

“No!” Gee-Tar insisted, speaking so quickly he nearly cut off Diesel’s words.

Roxie couldn’t help but frown at the idea of the violence between the Sharks and the Jets escalating to the point where lone members would be targeted late at night.

“Buddy, you promised Riff you would tell him if the Sharks gave ya trouble again,” Diesel reminded Gee-Tar patiently.

What?

“Did something happen with the Sharks?” Roxie interjected worriedly.

Gee-Tar purposefully ignored her question. “It wasn’t the Sharks,” he reiterated. “... I think it was just some locals. They wanted money or somethin’... Shame I didn’t have any to give ‘em, they may have taken it easier on me.”

“What did they do to you?” Roxie asked calmly, trying to disregard the idea of muggers being anywhere near the shop at that particular moment.

“Jumped me from behind, and then kicked me when I was down… literally. I guess I didn’t realize how good they actually got me ‘til I tried to climb the stairs…”

“If you were in so much pain that you couldn’t take a step up without falling down, I’d say there is something seriously wrong,” Roxie informed him matter-of-factly, warily eyeing where Gee-Tar’s hand was still holding on to his side. It didn’t matter that she had limited medical training- anyone in their right mind would have been to deduce what she had, and all three of them knew it. “Let me see.”

Either Gee-star didn’t feel like fighting Roxie’s demand, or he was simply too tired not to obey the request. He leaned onto his propped up elbow and slowly lifted his shirt with his free hand.

As the fabric lifted, welts that would soon prove themselves to be bruises were revealed. The spots that covered Gee-Tar’s side were along, between, and around the thin, long lines of scars that already ran up and down his side. The scars had been from the night of the rumble with the Emeralds. Gee-Tar had made it out of the rumble itself mostly unscathed, but as the guys were leaving the beach, he’d tripped and cut himself pretty decently on some metal scraps.

The bruises weren’t going to permanently maim Gee-Tar’s skin, but Roxie was concerned whether the damage inflicted upon him ran deeper than the surface.

As unfortunate and upsetting as that thought was, what could be done? None of them had the funds to pay for an actual visit to the doctor, let alone a trip to the emergency department at a nearby hospital.

“I guess all we can do is ice it,” Roxie stated, though even as she said the words, she felt remorse. “They didn’t hit or kick you anywhere else?”

Gee-Tar shook his head.

“Where are we gonna get ice at this hour?” Diesel wondered out loud.

Roxie’s brows furrowed. “You don’t have any frozen vegetables, or anything else like that upstairs?”

The look Roxie immediately received from both Gee-Tar and Diesel answered her redundant question.

“Ya kiddin’ me? We barely keep a loaf of bread around!” Diesel replied, smiling despite the situation.

“That’s going to change, as long as I have something to say about it,” Roxie informed them. Then, she looked at Diesel specifically. “Can you run upstairs and get a washcloth- or even just a towel- and run in under the coldest water you can? It’ll be better than nothing, at least until I can run out to the grocers in the morning.”

Diesel nodded dutifully, and immediately turned to head up the stairs.

“If he’s up there, don’t say nothin’ to Riff!” Gee-Tar called after him, confusing Roxie even more.

————————————————————————————

Diesel took two steps at a time up the stairs. When he reached the top, he took a moment to calm himself before entering the apartment.

Thankfully, the living area was empty.

Diesel turned and walked across the room towards the bathroom. Once he entered the small room, he immediately set about searching for a washcloth or some other sort of towel that could fulfill Roxie’s request.

Unfortunately, with a group of four guys living in the apartment who barely kept basic food staples in the kitchen, it was hardly surprising for one to learn that the bathroom was also poorly stocked in terms of typical wares. Excluding the one bath towel for each of the guys, the only other thing Diesel could find was the hand towel for the sink… and it probably could’ve stood to be cleaned.

No dice.

Although it was a small setback, Diesel was not ready to give up just yet. It was already bad enough that they had no ice, frozen vegetables, or literally anything else that they could have used on Gee-Tar at that moment. Having a no-can-do attitude on top of that wouldn’t be helpful in the slightest.

The situation was almost funny in an ironic way. Here they were, the Jets in the midst of a months-long feud with the Sharks, and with extremely limited means with which to treat some measly bruises. What would happen if one of them got seriously injured and needed some immediate medical attention?

Diesel pushed the decently alarming thought out of his mind as he meandered back out into the kitchen area. He perused through all the cabinets first, not finding anything that could be of use. He turned to the various drawers next.

Luckily, in the far back corner of an otherwise empty drawer, was an old dishrag. It was a little bit dusty, but at the very least, it looked clean.

… That’ll work.

Diesel closed the drawer and turned on the nearby faucet. As the water began to run, Diesel let it be for a few moments. Once it was nice and cool, he held the towel he found under the water for a beat, before wringing it out.

Despite his effort, it was almost pathetic- the fabric wasn’t very cold at all, and would probably only help alleviate any pain Gee-Tar felt for a few minutes at best. But Diesel supposed Roxie was right. It had to be better than nothing, at least until the morning.

As he was in the process of wringing the water from the fabric, the sound of a door opening cutting through the air of an otherwise silent room made Diesel freeze in place.

“Diesel?”

Diesel turned around slowly, and gave a slightly strained smile upon seeing Riff.

Riff was standing in the doorway of his bedroom. He was wearing some jeans, and his hair was disheveled, pieces of it sticking were this way and that. “What’s goin’ on?” Riff asked him, his voice still thick with sleep.

Diesel hesitated. Gee-Tar had been acting very strangely, and he seemed pretty keen on Riff not finding out what had happened to him… but Diesel wasn’t even sure what had happened to Gee-Tar. He said it hadn’t been the Sharks, and that it was just a random mugging. But to Diesel’s knowledge, no one else had had any serious problems with any of the other locals besides the Sharks lately. Most of the locals knew that when they saw the Jets coming down the street, they ought to step out of the way. Diesel couldn’t imagine any of them trying their luck with one of the Jets… but who knew? Between the previous night and the evening the current one was shaping up to be, maybe Gee-Tar was in a true bout of rotten luck.

Either way, until Diesel had more information so that he could safely assume the truth of what had happened to Gee-Tar in the moments before he returned to the shop, there was no need to bother Riff with that information yet. Besides, Riff still looked half-asleep.

Diesel would keep Gee-Tar’s wishes… for now.

“Have ya seen Roxie?” Riff asked him with a small frown, his eyes scanning the room. “Did she leave?”

“No… she’s downstairs.”

“Why? Everythin’ alright?”

“Yeah, Boss. Everythin’s fine…”

“What’re ya doin’, then?”

Diesel glanced down at the damp dish cloth in his hands before giving Riff a sheepish smile. “Ah, ya know… we’re just helpin’ out Gee-Tar.”

Riff visibly came a bit more to life at the mere mention of the other Jet’s name. It seemed that what had happened to Gee-Tar the previous evening was still fresh on his mind too. “What happened?”

“Oh, you know Gee-Tar,” Diesel began, determined not to give Riff any indication that he was currently debating the validity of Gee-Tar’s story. “He tripped over somethin’ on the street on his way back tonight. I think he landed on his side wrong though, so I asked Roxie to look him over and make sure he’s okay.”

Thankfully, Riff didn’t seem to doubt Diesel’s explanation. It seemed Gee-Tar being clumsy- an unfortunate characteristic he’d come to be known for over the years- was believable.

“And… he’s good?” Riff questioned.

“Yeah… yeah, he’ll be fine,” Diesel assured him hastily.

“Good,” Riff affirmed with a stiff nod. “Do me a favor? Tell Roxie to come back up when she’s done, yeah?”

“Sure thing, boss,” Diesel said readily, incredibly thankful that Riff seemed to suspect nothing was amiss.

As soon as Riff had shut the bedroom door once again, Diesel turned back to the faucet to run some more cold water onto the dish towel.

————————————————————————————

When Diesel entered the apartment, Roxie looked down at Gee-Tar suspiciously.

After a second, Gee-Tar finally noticed her staring. “What?” he asked, audibly defensive.

“Something about your story isn’t adding up,” Roxie asserted calmly.

Gee-Tar scoffed and rolled his eyes.

Roxie had always known Gee-Tar to be reserved and not easily bothered, so his offended reaction to her statement only furthered her suspicions that there was something about what had happened that he was not telling her. And if she was going to help him… and possibly even keep what had happened to him a secret from Riff, she wanted to know the truth.

Gee-Tar’s story didn’t make much sense to her at all. His height and sheer size didn’t exactly make him a prime target for mugging. If that was really what had happened, Roxie had a hard time believing that the perpetrators couldn’t have found someone who was more of an easy target. And besides, even if Gee-Tar had been attacked by a handful of guys- could he not have outrun them, or fight them off for a bit until he could make an escape? .. Unless he hadn’t wanted to, for some bewildering reason.

“What did Diesel mean when he mentioned the Sharks bothering you?” Roxie asked him then.

Buddy, you promised Riff you’d tell him if the Sharks gave ya trouble again… That’s what Diesel had said, not more than just a few minutes back.

Roxie wasn’t sure what Diesel had meant. Riff hadn’t mentioned anything about it, which made her think that maybe it wasn’t anything too serious… but on the other hand, if it was something to be concerned about, Roxie wasn’t entirely certain Riff would have told her.

“It’s nothin’,” Gee-Tar attempted to dismiss the subject.

Roxie frowned at him.

“Fine!” Gee-Tar relented, realizing that he was literally not able to make a quick get away from the conversation. “... I’ve been seein’ this girl. I walked her home last night, and turns out she lives in the same buildin’ as a handful of Sharks and some of their girls. Let’s just say that some of the Shark’s didn’t like seein’ me ‘round there, even just for a moment.”

Roxie didn’t bother with asking for any more specifics. “And you’re sure what happened tonight has nothing to do with the Sharks?”

“It doesn’t,” Gee-Tar said simply.”

“But how do you know?” Roxie challenged him. “You said yourself- you were attacked from behind. Did you see their faces?”

Gee-Tar shook his head vehemently. “The Sharks wouldn’t jump me, not just ‘cause I was hangin’ ‘round their building for all of a minute last night.”

Roxie’s next question came to her mind quickly, and as much as she hated the thought of it and feared Gee-Tar’s answer, she knew it was a fair question. “And… you’re sure that’s all you’ve done?”

“Yes!” Gee-Tar exclaimed, understandably taking offense to her suggestion. “Who do ya think I am?!”

“I’m sorry! … It just doesn’t make sense,” Roxie explained. “Those Sharks shouldn’t have a reason to chase you off just cause the girl you’re seeing lives in the same building. Not unless they thought you were asking for some other kind of trouble by doing so.”

Gee-Tar’s eyes fell down to his hand that was holding his injured side. “I don’t have to go askin’ for trouble… it always finds me.”

The conversation took a sharp turn as Gee-Tar’s tone shifted from one of anger to one of sadness. He sounded so solemn, nearly grave. He sounded defeated. For how defensive he had sounded just moments before, Roxie was taken aback by the sudden change.

“Gee-Tar,” Roxie said gently, mindful of his new tone, “If the Sharks had something to do with what happened to you tonight-”

“I already told ya, I don’t know for a fact that they did.”

“... But you have a pretty good idea, don’t you?”

Roxie’s shot in the dark proved to be a hit when Gee-Tar visibly froze. After a moment, he looked at her once more. His eyes were wide, and his lips were shut tightly; he was conflicted.

“If you want me to help you, and you don’t want me or Diesel to tell Riff what happened, you at least owe us the truth about what’s going on,” Roxie declared.

Gee-Tar stared at her determinedly for a few moments, before he closed his eyes briefly and gave her a small nod. “I guess ya got a point…”

Roxie patiently waited for Gee-Tar to find the words to come clean, hopeful that his explanation would enlighten her as to why he was in his current predicament.

“It’s about the girl I’m seein’.”

That wasn’t what Roxie had been expecting, but she went along with it. “Alright… What is it about her?”

“I’m guessin’ the Sharks don’t like that I’m seein’ her,” Gee-Tar confessed, speaking so quietly Roxie had to strain a bit to hear him, despite him being less than a few feet away.

“Why would they care?” Roxie wondered out loud.

Gee-Tar sighed. “... She’s-”

The front door to the apartment opened above them, and both Gee-Tar and Roxie’s heads shot up and watched as Diesel reappeared on the landing and shut the door behind him. As he began to descend the stairs and make his way towards them, Roxie spotted a worn-looking towel in his hand.

“Here,” Diesel said once he reached them, before handing the towel to Roxie.

Roxie then handed the damp towel to Gee-Tar wordlessly. As the fabric passed between their hands, their eyes met, and Roxie could tell from the look in his eyes that the moment for Gee-Tar’s confession had passed. He pressed the rag to his exposed side and flinched briefly before relaxing.

It was quiet for a few moments until Diesel broke the silence.

“I saw Riff upstairs.”

“Did ya tell him?” Gee-Tar asked.

“I didn’t tell him the truth, if that’s what you’re gettin’ at.”

“Then what did ya tell him?”

“Ya know, a believable story,” Diesel explained. “I told him ya tripped on your way back here.”

“I don’t trip over things that often.“

Roxie and Diesel immediately gave Gee-Tar pointed looks that conveyed just how much they disagreed with his statement.

“You should tell Riff what really happened at some point, though,” Diesel added.

“Come on, Deez,” Gee-Tar implored. “Let’s not make somethin’ outta this.”

“You were jumped!” Diesel exclaimed in disbelief. “That feels like somethin’ he oughta know!”

“And what would Riff do if I told him?” Gee-Tar challenged. “He ain’t the cops. The cops wouldn’t be able to catch the guys who did this, anyways. I didn’t see their faces, and I sure as hell couldn’t pick ‘em out of a lineup.”

Though Roxie was still highly suspicious as to the nature of Gee-Tar’s attack, and although she believed it was best for Riff to know about what had happened just in case, if what had happened had been a true mugging, Gee-Tar made some pretty valid points.

Roxie glanced over at Diesel, anticipating that he would accept Gee-Tar’s explanation relatively easily. However, she noticed that he seemed to sense something was off about Gee-Tar’s story as well. He was giving her an uncertain look in return.

“Please,” Gee-Tar all but begged them. “I promise I won’t go walkin’ ‘round alone so late anymore.”

“Why were ya out so late again?” Diesel countered.

Gee-Tar glanced at Roxie so quickly, she doubted Diesel would have caught it. “I was seein’ that girl of mine again.”

“This girl sounds like nothin’ but trouble,” Diesel said decisively. “If seein’ her is givin’ ya this much grief-”

“She’s fine,” Gee-Tar interrupted.

“Riff should still know,” Roxie insisted.

“He can’t,” Gee-Tar disagreed. “Ya both know how he’s been lately. If he finds out, it won’t matter what I say- he’s gonna assume this had somethin’ to do with the Sharks anyways. And if that happens, things are only gonna get worse ‘round here. Please… I can’t not see this girl again. Ya can’t tell him.”

Roxie and Diesel exchanged a look. Though she could tell Diesel wasn’t entirely convinced, he had to have been in the same boat that she was. With no other evidence other than Gee-Tar’s story, they had nothing else to prove that he wasn’t telling the truth… or at least the truth as he knew it.

Still, Roxie really hated the idea of keeping what had happened a secret from Riff, especially given everything that they had been through… But maybe Gee-Tar was right? He didn’t have any proof that the Sharks did or did not have something to do with the attack… And if Riff found out about it, Roxie was inclined to agree with Gee-Tar that he would jump to his own conclusions. Giving Riff more ammunition to fuel hostilities with the Sharks was the very last thing she wanted to do.

“Fine,” Roxie relented with a sigh, and Diesel nodded in silent agreement.

Gee-Tar gave them both a small relieved smile. “Thank you, both of yous.”

“Ya need to start keepin’ your word, and ya need to go a night without gettin’ yourself in trouble,” Diesel told him firmly. “We’ve already got our hands full with the Sharks. Don’t need ya gettin’ yourself hurt by some other local tough guys before the real fight begins.”

“... Right,” Gee-Tar recalled distractedly. “The Sharks.”

As an awkward silence fell over the group, Roxie couldn’t help but worry at the thought of “the real fight” Diesel had mentioned.

Eventually, Gee-Tar finally made it up the stairs that night with Diesel’s assistance and Roxie’s supervision. Once the two were settled in their own cots, Roxie returned to Riff’s bedroom, though she honestly wasn’t expecting to be able to get any more sleep.

Nothing about that night sat well with Roxie. Not the fact that Gee-Tar had gotten hurt, and definitely not his story and explanation of the events that had led up to it.

Even as she entered Riff’s bedroom, quietly tiptoed across the floor, and gently snuck back underneath the sheets, something was still bothering her.

Once he realized her presence, Riff wrapped his arms around immediately, and pulled her closer to him. He mumbled something incoherent, before pressing a kiss to her head.

She should’ve felt content in his arms. After all, for weeks- no, months- she never would have dreamed such a thing would ever be possible again. Despite that, she couldn’t rest.

What had Gee-Tar been about to say about the girl he’d been seeing before Diesel had interrupted?

————————————————————————————

The following Sunday, the Jets met up for their usual Sunday morning rounds of basketball.

The “A-Team”- Big Deal, Action, Little Molly, and Snowboy- were acting as pretentious as ever, though A-Rab was the most insufferable of them all by far. Their luck from the previous few weekends had seemed to turn around, and they were currently on a winning streak. Each game won only made them act bolder.

Aside from Riff teaching Baby John a few tricks earlier in the summer, he hadn’t even picked up a basketball for a few weeks. But with every victorious shout that left the mouths of A-Rab and his team, Riff grew closer and closer to taking to the court himself.

As the morning went on, Riff quickly realized that Gee-Tar must not have been feeling well. His team, which also consisted of Baby John, Tiger, Balkan, and Mouthpiece, had once posed a threat to the “A-Team.” But that morning, the team seemed to be falling apart, and it was largely due to Gee-Tar. He was moving painstakingly slow, leaving him vulnerable to having the ball swiped from him and rendering him incapable of making any decent passes to his teammates.

Riff leaned up against the wall and smoked a cigarette. Ice was beside him, as he usually was, and was having a smoke as well. Though it was the same wall that they had once considered their own, primarily due to their artwork and various paintings that used to litter it, the wall had since been tainted with the Puerto Rican mural.

Since the wall had been painted, a lot of the guys had had plenty of things to say about it whenever they walked by the park or stopped to play a few games of basketball. And if he was being honest, seeing their wall in such a state bothered Riff too.

But even though it had been weeks since the mural had been painted, Riff had the feeling that if anything happened to the damn mural, the Jets would automatically be the ones to blame, whether they actually had a hand in it or not. Though it was debatable whether the cops would care enough to actually try and hold them accountable for any damage done, he knew the Sharks would try and have their heads either way.

But not even the grievances with the Sharks, nor the slaughtering that Gee-Tar and his team were being dealt on behalf of A-Rab’s team, were enough to distract Riff from his other thoughts. As he leaned up against the backdrop of the red, white, and blue paint, his mind kept frequently wandering elsewhere.

Specifically, it was wandering across the park to the other side of the street, to Roxie’s apartment building.

Riff hadn’t seen Roxie since the evening before, and even though it was a short time to go without seeing her, he couldn’t deny that he’d missed her. It was the first night since earlier that week that they hadn’t spent together. There was something about waking up beside her that Riff didn’t want to soon forget. Even just waking up alone that morning had dampened his mood.

But, just like him, Roxie had personal things to take care of. She was still itching to try and get a word with her landlord. Riff hoped she was successful in catching him that morning. Even more so, he hoped the landlord would have a lead on a new roommate for her.

Though Riff had full heartedly meant his offer for her to move into the shop’s apartment with him, if that wasn’t what Roxie wanted at that moment, he wasn’t going to hold it against her. 

She’d already said she couldn’t afford to live in her apartment alone, and Riff didn’t want to see her any more strapped for cash than she was. Roxie was still supposed to go to school that spring, and she’d told Roff already that any spare money she could manage would go towards that tuition.

Besides that, Riff would never forget that Roxie used a good chunk of her own money to save his neck and keep the shop afloat, if only for a little bit longer. It didn’t matter how she had obtained that money- it’d been hers, fair and square. If Roxie was unable to find a new roommate, and if she had to spend even more money on her own living arrangements than what she already was, it would only deepen Riff’s guilt.

And he already felt plenty of guilt when he considered the fact that Tony was now knowledgeable about the entire situation with Mr. Barone, and Roxie still had no idea. While Riff hated keeping the secret from her, he had yet to have any regret about telling Tony.

Naturally, Tony had been shocked to learn all of the gory details, but Riff knew the moment he was done telling him the entire tale that Tony had developed some new sort of respect for both him and Roxie. Tony promised that he’d keep true to his word and that he wouldn’t ever tell a soul about what he had learned. Riff believed him, but he also remembered all too well how his oaf of a friend had almost tipped Roxie off by acting so oddly towards her right after Riff had told him.

“What’s the matter with you, pal?” Balkan questioned Gee-Tar when he failed to put up any sort of struggle when Action swiped the ball from him. Action passed the ball across the court to Big Deal, who promptly scored a basket.

The game was over.

Gee-star shook his head. “I’m out,” he told his team regretfully. He walked away and joined Diesel, Skink, and Number’s conversation just off the court.

Before Tiger, Balkan, Mouthpiece, and Baby John could say a thing in response, a proud shout erupted from A-Rab’s mouth.

“Victory is ours, boys!”

His team whooped and hollered in agreement.

Baby John shook his head and turned to what remained of their team to try and regroup.

“Ain’t no one takin’ us down!” A-Rab continued.

Unfortunately, the scene had already pulled Riff from his thoughts. Now that he was free from his distracting thoughts about Roxie and what she was up to, there was nothing holding him back.

“Anyone wanna hop in?” Tiger asked hopefully, looking at the rest of the Jets who weren’t already on the court.

Riff flicked his cigarette onto the ground and stepped on the butt.

Ice smirked at him, immediately catching on to what he was about to do. “Go get ‘em, Krazy Kat.”

Riff clapped an appreciative hand onto Ice’s shoulder before jogging over to the court. “Count me in, fellas!”

Baby John and the rest of the team smiled at the sight of Riff taking to the court. Riff wasn’t considered the best player among them, but his track record against A-Rab was pretty admirable, and everyone knew it.

Especially A-Rab.

“Nah, you don’t need to bother yourself with a little game, Riff,” A-Rab tried to discourage him.

“It’s no problem at all,” Riff dismissed with a cool smile. Tiger passed him the ball, and he caught it with a practiced ease, barely sparing the ball a glance as he did so. “Ya fellas ready to get goin’ again?”

Riff’s team members smirked knowingly while A-Rab and his teammates became visibly unsettled.

————————————————————————————

Though the guilt of keeping Gee-Tar’s secret from Riff still lingered over her, as well as her curiosity about the remainder of Gee-Tar’s interrupted confession about the girl he had been seeing, Roxie found something else to focus on over the next few days: hunting down her landlord.

Roxie even spent the night in her own apartment, determined to wake up as early as needed in order to try and catch the man as he left his apartment unit for the day. She had to admit, she missed sleeping beside Riff the previous night, especially after having done so for several nights in a row before it, but she knew that she had to do what she had to do. Her landlord had already been proven to be a tricky guy to track down, and Roxie stood no more chance of actually finding him if she was hardly ever present in her apartment building.

Betty was supposed to be moving out in the next week or two, and she couldn’t afford- literally- to not have another roommate to help her pay the rent. She supposed she could’ve asked Helen, the young woman she had met in the laundry room of their building a few weeks prior, to move in, but after the one interaction Roxie had had with the girl, she had a gut feeling that if they’d lived together, they’d butt heads more often than not. And what was the point of even having her own space to escape to if it wouldn’t even be relaxing?

That morning, Roxie slept in later than she had meant to, and she couldn’t help but internally curse at herself as she scrambled to get dressed and ready for the day. Once she was presentable, Roxie slipped on a pair of flats, grabbed her keys, and quickly exited the apartment to head down the stairs to the first floor.

Initially, Roxie knocked on her landlord’s door several times to no avail. Just as she was about to give up on finding him- again- someone entered through the main door in the lobby and headed down the hallway her way.

It was her landlord.

He was dressed pretty nicely, and if Roxie had to guess, he had just come from church.  Of course- how could she not have considered that before? If she had, she probably would’ve been successful in cornering him at least a week ago.

“Roxie?”

Roxie gave him a small smile and stepped aside as the man went to unlock his front door.

“I’m sorry to catch you at a bad time,” Roxie began, “but I really need to talk to you about something. Do you have a few minutes?”

His eyes shifted back and forth. “Uh, now’s not really the best time-“

“Please,” Roxie interrupted, as politely as she could manage. “I’m sure she’s told you- but Betty’s moving out, and soon. I was hoping you knew someone else who was in need of a place to stay?”

Her landlord rested his hand on the doorknob of his front door, and it was clear that he was wanting to head on inside. Normally, Roxie would’ve taken the que and excused herself, but she’d spent too long trying to track him down, and she was quickly running out of time to find a solution to her problem.

“You won’t have to worry about that,” he told her quietly.

Roxie was taken aback. “Wait- really? You already have someone in mind?”

Her landlord glanced down the hallway of the lobby, looking around to see if they were still alone. “No.”

“... You don’t? What do you mean?”

“Come on, Roxie,” he pleaded tiredly. “Don’t make me say it.”

“Say what?”

Her landlord took one last glance down the hallway. “I was going to make the announcement this week, but since you’ve quite literally got me forced here, I’ll tell you now: I’m selling the building.”

…

What?!

“What?!”

Her landlord shushed her. “Pipe down, will you? I just said I haven’t made the announcement yet, remember?”

Roxie lowered her voice, though her words were no less frantic. “What’s going to happen?”

“You’ll have two weeks to find someplace else to live.”

“Two weeks?!” Roxie gasped. “What am I supposed to do if I can’t find somewhere else to go? What are any of us supposed to do?”

Her landlord said nothing.

“What about your other building- the one where my aunt rented that unit from you?”

“I’m selling that one too, I’m afraid.”

Her landlord was being flippant, and once Roxie realized that, her shock quickly shifted to something else- anger. “Why?” she demanded. “Why are you selling when you know doing so is putting dozens of people out on the streets?

Surprisingly, her landlord looked somewhat sympathetic. “Come on, Roxie. Don’t give me a sob story. Ya know how it is right now- times are tough, and they’re tough for everybody, not just tenants like you. I got some offers, and they were just too good to pass up.”

In retrospect, Roxie couldn’t blame him, at least not in principle. But at that moment, her shock and anger won out over her logic, and she couldn’t help but scowl at him.

“I’m sorry, kid.”

————————————————————————————

Riff was feeling just about on top of the world as his team proceeded to put A-Rab’s team to shame.

Baby John swerved past Little Molly and Riff couldn’t help but smile as his protege made a shot that sent the basketball flying through the air before falling through the hoop with a satisfying swoosh.

Another 4 points, and Riff’s team would win.

A-Rab took the ball and proceeded to set up the next play at the top of the court. As he prepared himself to guard Big Deal, Riff saw something that caught his interest out of the corner of his eye.

It was Roxie.

She crossed the street from her apartment building, entered the park, and was walking directly towards him.

Even from a distance, Riff could tell she was upset. His immediate concern for her outweighed his desire to put A-Rab in his place, and he promptly walked off the court mid play without another thought.

“What gives?” Mouthpiece called after him confusedly.

Riff spared a glance back at his team, before looking over at the guys hanging around off the court. “Deez, you mind coverin’ for me for a minute?”

Diesel had spotted Roxie as well. He looked at Riff, nodded, and quickly stepped onto the court to assume Riff’s place.

“What? No way!“ A-Rab declared as he glared at Diesel. “No subs mid game!“

“A-Rab, chill,” Ice ordered. “It’s just a game, pal.”

A small heated discussion broke out in the background, but Riff continued to walk towards Roxie. When he was just a few yards away from her, he called to her, “What’s wrong?”

Roxie shrugged as she came to a stop before him. She placed a head on her forehead and shook her head. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t want to pull you away like this, I just didn’t know what else to do and-“

“It’s fine,” Riff assured her calmly, cutting off her worried rambling when he placed his hands lightly on her upper arms. “Trust me.”

Roxie looked behind him and towards the Jets. Riff followed her line of sight, and quickly discovered that A-Rab’s arguing had ceased. Instead, the guys on the court who had noticed Roxie’s presence were watching them both with intrigued looks. Some were even sending mocking kissing faces their way.

In response, Riff flipped the bird over his shoulder before turning his full attention back to Roxie. “What’s goin’ on?”

“It’s my apartment… my landlord is selling the building.”

“He’s what?” Riff asked, the news shocking him nearly as much as it appeared to have shaken up Roxie.

“We’re all going to get evicted,” Roxie continued, still visibly and audibly upset. “I only have two weeks to find someplace new to live.”

Riff fell silent as he processed everything Roxie was saying.

“I can’t afford to live anywhere else,” she said. “And even if I could, who's to say that whatever building I end up in won’t just get sold and torn down too?”

Riff wished more than anything to be able to say something that would alleviate her worries. She had some valid concerns, though. “Don’t worry, we’ll figure something out,” he found himself saying instead.

“Like what?”

“Well, I’m sure as hell not gonna let you be out on the streets, that’s for sure,” Riff swore.

Roxie nodded in understanding. She looked behind him for a moment, most likely looking at the Jets again. Riff didn’t look back this time though. He hoped they’d returned to their basketball game by then.

“I don’t know what to do,” Roxie confessed meekly, looking back at him.

As Riff racked his brain for a magic solution to her problem, it took him all but a second to realize that he already had one.

“Move in with me.”

Roxie did a double take. Before she could protest the idea, Riff continued, feeling the overwhelming need to present his entire case before she passed any sort of judgment on his proposal. He took her hands in his lightly, but the gesture drew her focus solely on him.

“I know ya said you wanted your independence, but you can have that. You can come and go as ya please, and ya won’t hear a peep from me. Hell, you can even take my room, and I’ll sleep out in the living room with the rest of the guys. Livin’ with them probably ain’t ideal, but they’ll be respectful of ya, I promise. And if they ain’t, I’ll set ‘em straight. A few days ago, you mentioned the bathroom… I know it's a bit of a mess right now, but I’ll scrub every surface clean myself if I have to. Roxie, I’ll do whatever else ya want if it means I can sleep better at night knowin’ ya got a safe place to stay... please.”

Roxie’s face as he gave her his full fledged reasoning behind his suggestion was oddly neutral, and when he was finished speaking, Riff didn’t have an inkling of an idea of what she was thinking.

Naturally, his initial reaction was panic. …Should’ve kept my damn mouth shut.

“… I have a condition.”

Her quiet words surprised Riff. “Yeah?”

“I’m not taking your bedroom from you.”

Riff subconsciously smiled and his grip on her hands tightened as he read between the lines of her simple words. ”So, does that mean you’ll move in?”

“You have to promise me that you’ll tell me if it’s not working for you,” Roxie warned him, calmly though seriously. But even as she spoke, Riff could tell she was fighting off a smile of her own.

Riff doubted he’d ever do that, even if she did somehow find a way to get on his nerves. But he knew that was not what Roxie wanted to hear, so he chose to go along with it in order to not ruin the moment. “I promise.”

“Then… yes. I’ll move in with you.”

Riff beamed down at her, and for a moment, he was stunned and unsure what to do with the sudden wave of happiness and relief that washed over him. A second later, something in his mind clicked, and he quickly leaned in to kiss her.

He could faintly hear the teasing kissing noises behind them from the Jets increasing in volume, but Riff refused to pay them mind. In that moment, all that mattered was them.

Roxie was going to be moving in.

————————————————————————————

“Dios mío,” the young woman said under her breath.

Her companion turned her head towards her as they walked down the sidewalk just outside of the park.

“There is the reason we do not walk back from church this way,” the young woman continued, eyeing the group of boys on the basketball court inside the park warily.

Her companion looked at the group curiously, but was mindful enough to keep up the same walking pace as her friend as she took a gander. “Is that them?”

“Sí,” her friend answered. “The Jets. Aspirantes a gánsteres.”

The other young woman continued to look over towards the group she had heard so much about. The majority of them were playing a game of basketball, but a few lingered around the perimeter.

Though a bit away from the basketball court, one of them stood out. He was tall and slim, and was with a girl. If the kiss they exchanged wasn’t enough of an indicator, it was clear by their physical closeness, intertwined hands, and the way they smiled at each other that they were together.

“Ahi esta,” her friend continued, noticing the object of staring. “The leader. Riff.”

“Riff?” the young woman repeated, the sound oddly foreign to her tongue. It was a strange name, even for an Americano.

For all the awful stories she’d heard from her friends and the friends of her brother, as well as warnings directly from him, the infamous Jets looked to just be a group of boys. It was hard to imagine them being any sort of credible threat, let alone doing even half of the things she was told they had done.

But appearances could be deceiving.

“Sí.”

“Ese chica?” she asked then, turning her attention to the girl next. Whoever she was, the girl seemed absolutely smitten with the leader of the Jets. 

“No sé,” her friend replied. “He was with a chica rubia at the last dance…”

The young woman nodded, accepting her friend’s partial answer without further comment. She asked no more questions of her friend, choosing to focus on keeping a brisk pace instead. Her brother’s girlfriend would start to worry if she wasn’t back soon, and as it was, she was already likely to inquire as to where she had gone after mass.

When the park was well behind them, the young woman spared one more thought to what she had seen.

Despite the affectionate display they had had in the park, the young woman couldn’t help but wonder what type of girl would want to be with a boy like the one her brother had described the leader of the Jets to be.

A/N: Thank you for reading!😊 Any and all feedback is welcome and appreciated. If you would like to be added to the taglist, please feel free to let me know as well.😊

Taglist: @whisperofsong​ @disguisedbassethound​ @lingerasthesmokeoncedid​ @westsidelegendary​ @sallymakesstuff​ @youngteenagehearts​ @wombtotombx​ @loverisi​ @wnygirl2012​ @b-bella9​ @princessmiaelicia​ @childesbbyy​ @amberash05​ @robin-jackkelly​ @eatslothsat​ @mikefaistgf​ @acciosiriusblack​ @jaemsslut4​ @makaelahdelvalle​ @mixed-theater-faisty-tings​ @girlygirl-20​ @that1fanficwriter​

Part 20

Masterlist

[realcube]

haikyuu!! boys with a s/o that becomes clingy/affectionate while drunk

characters: kyōtani, kenma, iwaizumi, matsukawa and bokuto

thank you anon for this marvellous request mwah

ALL CHARACTERS ARE AGED UP!

tw// drinking, suggestive themes, sexual references, swearing

Kentarō Kyōtani

kyōtani was used to having a cool, laid-back s/o who was just as awkward about physical touch as he was 

i mean, that’s kinda a part of the reason he liked you so much - so y’all could get over your awkwardness together

so imagine his surprise when his usually level-headed, calm s/o came stumbling out of the club, a blubbering mess and threw themselves into his arms, wailing something about a maths test

THE AMOUNT OF EMOTIONS THAT FLOODED HIS MIND IN THAT ONE MOMENT OMFG ADFGHJKL

he was like ‘omg why are they touching me? i kinda like it- wait are they crying? tf? i ain’t ever seen them cry before- should i help them? lord everyone is looking at us now. so what the fuck do i do- AYE DON’T TOUCH ME THERE’

so he had no choice but to dip with you flung over his shoulder lol

he took you back to your shared apartment and forced you to drink some water and instead of ordering a take-out, he just gave you his leftover burrito which he took to the club smh

it was probably cold 

but that was the best he could think of at the time bc he simply needed to shut you up with food bc the alcohol in your system was causing you to become especially touchy, hence resulting in kyōtani getting especially aroused

but the last thing he’d do is fuck you while you’re drunk and i firmly believe that despite the fact kyōtani is a bit of a lout - he still has like a basic moral compass

but i mean if you kept being so damn suggestive then it was gonna be a lot harder for him to resist his urges

you were rubbing him up and shit, calling him every pet name in the book so ofc he just stuck a burrito in your mouth and went ‘stfu 😡’

the painful part was that he was silently enjoying it too (┬┬﹏┬┬)

(though, he was red from blushing lol, not anger) 

and he wasn’t used to it either so obviously he was gonna get flustered, i mean, everything was happening all at once

oh and you told him ‘i love you’ and he literally combusted like lord have mercy on this man 

just that morning you were calling him your ‘annoying rat boyfriend’ (jokingly, ofc) and now you love him?-

that wasn’t the first time you told him that you loved him but he was still blushing none the less 

and he stammered out a ‘love you too’ PRAYING that you wouldn’t remember any of this the following day

anyway, he cuddled you to sleep and railed you as soon as you sobered up - the end ❤

Kenma Kozume

pov: you’re kenma happily being a wallflower in the club then your s/o approaches you, demanding for you to fuck them 

- ok, end of POV - 

anyway, your speech was slurred so kenma wasn’t really sure if that was what you were asking him to do but if it was, he would’ve happily obliged if it wasn’t for the fact you were clearly drunk

mans was blushing though

bc y’all hardly ever do it but now - all of a sudden - you were tightly wrapped around him, garbling erotic threats into his ear

kenma was worried at first but you were like..really weak

so it wasn’t hard to get you off his torso, usher you out of the club and grip your hand as he ordered a taxi 

also kenma had read enough wattpad fanfictions to know how to deal with someone while they’re drunk 

but none of those fanfictions ever mentioned a single thing about how to deal with yourself while your partner is drunk

like seriously..he was in pain

both from the throbbing erection he had and the aching embarrassment he felt - both stemming from the fact you tried to give him a lap dance in taxi ✋ please oml

anyway, he took you back to his apartment and insisted that you have a few slices of the left-over pizza in the fridge along with a glass of water

after you changed into your pyjamas, you had clearly sobered up slightly as you could now compose coherent sentences

but that wasn’t any better for him bc now you were draped over him, whimpering into his ear about how much you love him

‘i’m so lucky to have you, kenma. i love you so much. you remind me of my first cat - you’re such a cat- i mean, blessing..you’re such a blessing.’ 

ngl, at that point he would be at a loss for words, just deciding to hug you until you fall asleep

like he finds it so cute that you’re finally opening up to him about how you feel as you’re usually quite composed and restrained 

but also- what does he do now? 

you eventually fell asleep in his arms and the next day, you woke up to kenma having made breakfast and telling you how much he adores you which was..confusing, to say the least

he told you about how you acted when you were drunk and to say you were embarrassed would be an understatement 

also, he’ll tease you about it for the rest of your life ;)

Hajime Iwaizumi

literally all you had to do was send him a text like ‘iwa...,,.,...ily so mycj ❤’’ and he’s already waiting in the line to get into the club lol

he marches in there, finds you, grabs your hand and drags you home 

let’s hope that your friends know what iwaizumi looks like so they don’t have to just watch a random guy haul you out the club-

and tries to act all like angry iwaizumi >:( but when you are trailing behind him, muttering about how amazing he is, he becomes more like angy iwa grrr (* ￣︿￣)

by that, i mean that angry iwaizumi would bring you home and lecture on how irresponsible it is to get so intoxicated 

but angy iwa just takes care of you but with a disapproving scowl 

and angry iwaizumi would make nasty, bitchy remarks about how inappropriate your outfit is 

while angy iwa would be like ‘babe, your outfit is lovely but maybe wear something different next time, idk....’

either way, he takes good care of you 

he makes sure you eat (and he cooks good food btw - he doesn’t make you eat leftovers lmao) 

he lets you change into more comfortable clothes

he ensures that you don’t die in the shower 

and he forces you to go to bed

but all of that is rather difficult when you’re clinging to him like your life depends on it, raving on about how sweet of a boyfriend he is and covering his face sloppy kisses

his original plan was to go train some more in his gym (yes, there is a gym in y’alls house-) but when you were peppering his cheek in kisses, begging him to stay with you for whatever reason, of course he didn’t have the balls to leave

 so he ended up laying like a log in bed as you cuddled up to him like koala, resting your head in his chest and allowing him to run his hand through your hair as you slept

in that moment - as he stared down at your tranquil figure - he realised how grateful he was for moments like these, as he finally got see a side of you that he knew you’d almost never exhibit when you’re sober

like yeah, you often tell him how much you love him but he can always tell that it’s as if you’re setting aside your pride to say such a thing but now, you’re gushing on about it with the most genuine look in your eyes, he can tell that you’re being completely sincere 

and to say that he adores it would be an understatement 

so yeah, you were kind of a pain while drunk but you were also the most adorable thing that iwaizumi had ever laid his eyes on (. ❛ ᴗ ❛.)

Issei Matsukawa

ok so the only reason matsukawa wasn’t getting drunk with you was bc the first time y’all got drunk together he got fined for public indecency and you got done for public intoxication

so you decided that it was best (for your wallets) if you took turns getting tipsy

emphasis on ‘tipsy’ bc you both went to the bar together (along with a few friends) and you promised matsukawa that you’d only have a few drinks 

so please explain to him why he is now having to carry you bridal style out of the bar because you are too hammered to walk properly 

and he was kinda grumpy bc he had to leave his friends mid-conversation bc not only were you pestering him but also, the erotic things you were whispering in his ear caused him to get a boner

and he was getting weird looks from people as he carried you home but that was the least of his problems tbh- he didn’t even notice lol

the biggest issue on his mind rn was the fact that you made him hard yet you can’t help him bc you’re drunk smh 

like he was tempted at first bc you seemed down to do it but he quickly came back to reality and realised how morally incorrect that’d be 

so he was mumbling curses the whole way home just to tune you out bc if he paid any more attention to the racy promises you were muttering in his ear- he’d explode

he’s alright at taking care of you like he isn’t iwaizumi’s level of caring but he’s a close second, i mean he’s gotten drunk plenty of times so he knows the basics

he was like ‘drink water idk lol ’

anyway, once he handled himself he wasn’t too fazed by your lustful advances

and he was so smug about it too deadass like ‘keep talkin’ me up, (y/n), you ain’t getting shit until you’re sober.’

smh ANYWAY he thinks you’re so charming when you’re like lovey-dovey drunk but SO annoying when you’re horny drunk bc like- he can’t get some (T_T)

Kōtarō Bokuto 

best for last 👌

ok anyway he’s an athlete and he doesn’t need alcohol to have a good time- he’s forever drunk tbh- drunk on life :)

so while you’re getting hammered with your pals, he’s doing stupid shit while sober lol

once you both rendezvous outside the club to head home and you’re absolutely steamin- he’s just like ‘hi, babe! how’s your night been?’

SO OBLIVIOUS OML

anyway, he drives back to y’alls house and since you’re fatigued at first, you spent 90% of the car ride sleeping

but when you get home, more awake, you’re all up on him

but you’re not like sensual drunk- more like..emotional drunk but with love 🥺

so basically you are sobbing into his chest about whatever and bc he is an such empath he will start crying too, or at least get a bit emotional 

you could say something like, ‘omg, bo. i hardly get to see you because you’re at work so often- i wish i could spend more time with you. i miss you so much’  ╯︿╰

and he would deadass reply whole-heartedly while weeping into your shoulder, ‘I’M QUITTING VOLLEYBALL, (Y/N)!!’

(ok, so maybe he was a bit tipsy too- but like..definitely not has drunk as you)

he has no idea where to start when it comes to taking care of you but he tries (´◡` ‘) 

at the very least, he ensures that you don’t having any more alcohol and that you don’t die somehow 

he’s v overprotective though 

you could be getting a fork to eat your instant-noodles with and he’ll be like 

‘apologies ✋ but i cannot allow you to handle such a dangerous weapon while intoxicated. maybe eat with a spoon instead, idk.’ /h

other than that, he just cuddles you to sleep and deals with you in your badly hungover state the next day