#oof this turned out long but i had a lot of thoughts okay

[silentglassbreak]

hi bestie is it too late to request? you said you liked writing angst, well, i love reading it 💔💔painfully unrequited love!!!!! gimme gimme

friends with benefits with (overly affectionate!!!!) Noah and reader who falls sick to her stomach head over heels in love with him. blurring the lines between sex and love.

going to a bad omens concert however long after and it’s like they’re strangers oOF rip my heart out and stomp on it idc. been listening to Novocaine on a loop all day. i’m not okay

feel to totally disregard if you’re not feeling it angel <33 thank you bby I love your writing 🥺🥺

Angst............. UGH I've been WAITING babes. My goal is to rip your heart out...fair fucking warning. MMMLOVEYOUUUUU. After Writing Notes: I'm the actual worst. I hope you don't hate it!

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: smut, heartbreak, lots and lots of angst

Can You Feel My Heart

Love languages are such a strange concept, aren't they? That seems to be a fairly new idea that someone came up with in the last decade or so?

If you like to buy love...your love language is gifting.

If you can't communicate well...your love language is affection.

If the only way you know how to show feelings is with sex...your love language is intimacy.

At what point are we allowed to call someone out for being a dick? At what point are we allowed to confront the fact that someone is skipping around the idea of commitment, and ask them to just admit what they really want?

This wasn't the first time these thoughts had danced around my head, in the wee hours of the morning, while Noah's arm laid heavy across my waist, him snoozing behind me.

Noah and I had been friends since we were seven years old. We met on the playground at the park in the center of the neighborhood of our small town in West Virginia. He told me he liked my butterfly hair clips, and I let him have the blue one. He wore it in his hair every day for three weeks.

He grew up in a broken home, only his Mom around most of his years, and even then - that relationship was...strained. So many nights he had snuck into my bedroom window, curling up next to me, tears free falling down his cheeks. We never talked about why, but it didn't take a psychic to figure it out.

He moved in with his Grandmother when he was fourteen, and even though he lived in the next town over, he still made it a point to take the city bus to me every day after school, even when he dropped out.

We were never more than twin flames, incapable of existing without each other, moral support for the other during any type of hardship. Looking back, I guess that was what built our serious dependence issues.

"I can't live without you, Y/N. I'll die if I ever lose you."

"No you won't Noah, don't be stupid."

He was stupid. As stupid as they come, because when I turned eighteen, and started college, he had paid one of his friends to drive him all the way up to Columbus to see me. He showed up at the door of my dorm, drunk and broken, blathering on about how only having been away from me for a week had killed him, and he needed to see me.

That was the first night he kissed me, and I let him.

As most people do when having grown up with someone so closely, I had developed an attachment to Noah very early on. I first recognized it when he turned twelve, and started skateboarding. He would insist on trying to teach me how, despite my undeniable clumsiness. His hands would grip my hips, his face so close to my ear, and his chest pressed to my back. He would talk in this deep voice, his puberty hitting early. I was awe-struck.

He was my best friend, sure. But he belonged to me, that's what he always said.

Even when he had girlfriends, I always came first. Dates would get cancelled for me; plans changed. Hell, he even blew off one girl whose birthday fell on the same day as mine. I was his priority. I was his person.

So when he leaned in to me, sitting on the edge of my mattress in the dorm, liquor stained-breath against my face, I just closed my eyes and let it happen.

He spent the night with me, and had to leave early. Vowing to come back, he never broke his word.

There he was the following weekend, sober this time, with snacks, DVDs, and a week’s worth of clothes. I managed to hide him in my room for four days before the dorm advisor caught him.

The second day he was there was the first time we had sex. I was a virgin, and he was not. That hurt me, sure. Not enough to deny him what was rightfully his. I belonged to Noah, body and soul. He took his time, walked me through it, and gave me the best possible experience I could expect. It hurt, and it was weird, but a sense of relief washed over me.

We had finally crossed that threshold. We had sex three times that week, until he was forced to leave.

That's when the words left his mouth.

"We need to talk."

That conversation broke something inside of me. He loved me, but he didn't love me. He was honored to have been allowed to give me something so meaningful, but he could never see me as more than his best friend. Our friendship was too important, and he wouldn't even allow himself to entertain the idea of jeopardizing that. He had made up his mind, and he couldn't have feelings for me.

It was with the heaviest heart imaginable, I sucked back my tears, painted an easy smile on my face, and held his hands in mine.

"I totally understand, Noah. No worries! We can just have fun, you know?"

And that was it. We were stuck in this sick, frozen place for the last two years. I was about to finish my Associates in Columbus, and hoped to become pre-med at Boston U, but Noah didn't know that yet. I could never figure out how to tell him.

Noah Davis was this heavy, bright flame that I was desperately afraid to extinguish. He had formed a band right after our arrangement began, and he was twenty-four hours away from leaving on their first major tour that would take him around the entire country, and then across the Atlantic to Europe.

How could I tell him that while he was gone, I was likely moving even further, and starting my life without him?

I didn't want to live without him, but he was leaving, and I couldn't sit and wait forever...

I breathed out a sigh, the light beginning to stream in the window of my one-bedroom apartment. He needed to wake up, drive home, and make sure he was ready to leave tomorrow. It was only 6AM, so I knew he'd be cranky, but I couldn't put this off any longer.

“Noah?” I breathed out his name. He groaned in response. “You’ve got to get up. You have to get ready to head home.”

"Mm, ten more minutes." I rolled my eyes, and began sliding out from underneath him.

His arm locked, and held me in place. I giggled, and saw as he turned his face, one eye cracking open. "Don't get up. It's too early."

I narrowed my eyes. "I have class at 8AM."

Noah used his strength against me, pulling my body to him and holding me tight so I couldn't get up. This only made me laugh louder.

"You don't need to get up for another hour."

"Not if I want to shower."

He sighed into the pillow. "So crazy, cause I don't think you do."

I rolled my eyes. "Dude, you've got to get home. Nick will kill us both if you're not ready in time."

"I'm not scared of her." He smirked, and I smacked his arm.

"Shut up. And get off me!"

He stuck his bottom lip out, pouting heavily.

"Not going to work. C'mon." I wriggled hard enough to break his grip, and sat up, stretching my arms over my head. He sat up as well, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

I pulled a robe over myself, turning to look at him as he scrolled through his phone, checking messages.

"Coffee?" I asked, and he threw a thumbs up at me.

I left the room, headed for the kitchen, trying to keep my breathing even. I had very little time left.

Filling the pot with water, I felt his arms wrap around me from behind, his face burying in my neck.

"I don't want to go. I'm going to miss you so much."

I leaned into the touch, taking anything I could at this point. "I know. I'll miss you more."

He scoffed. "Not a chance."

Holding me for a few more moments, he let go to head to the fridge, pulling out the bagels and cream cheese, and plopping down at the dining table. I continued my work of preparing our coffee.

"Hey, uh," I started, keeping my voice as calm as I could. "there's something I wanted to chat with you about."

I turned around, two hot mugs in my hand. He was spreading the cream on a bagel, already having prepared one for me. I sat next to him at the table.

"What's up?" He didn't look up at me.

"I told you I had been trying to decide where to start medical school?" He just nodded in response. "Well, I find out today if I got into Boston."

He halted, his eyes snapping up to me. "Boston?"

I took a sip of coffee. "They've got the best med program on the East coast-"

He cut me off. "Since when were you looking on the East coast?"

His tone was darkening. This was going to go about as well as I expected.

"Since I realized I had a chance. Noah, my GPA and scholar program gives me a real shot."

He grit his teeth, setting his bagel down. "Boston is far, Y/N."

I kept calm, setting my mug down as well. "I know."

"So, why would you want to be so far away?"

"Well, you're going far too, Noah. Your first show is in San Diego."

He sat back in his chair. "Yeah, but the last one puts me right back here in Columbus for a month before I go overseas."

I nodded. "I know. I'll still be here, then. You get back six weeks before the end of the semester."

He closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose. "You can't go to Boston."

There was a finality to his tone, and something about it made my insides flinch with irritation.

"Oh no? And if I do?"

"You can't."

I narrowed my eyes at him. "Can't? And since when do you tell me what I can and can't do?"

He rolled his eyes, standing from the table and walking over to the trash, binning the half of his bagel he didn't eat. "We can't be that far away from each other."

Lifting my eyebrows, I stood as well, crossing my arms. "And why is that, Noah?"

He leaned back against the counter. "Y/N, you know why."

"What? So you have someone to fuck whenever you want? Whenever one of your little groupies isn't around?"

His eyes popped open, then. "What?"

"You heard me." My tone was deadly, matching my stare at him.

"You really think the only reason I want you close is because of the sex?" He seemed truly stunned.

"Well, why else would you want me around?" I threw my hands up, walking back down the hallway toward my bedroom. I could hear his footfall behind me. I just continued, stepping into the closet to get dressed.

"What is that supposed to mean? I always want you around."

Rolling my eyes, I clasped my bra on and popped my head out to look at him. "Noah, I'm convenient for you. Unless you have any other valid reasons to keep coming over, I don't know why else it matters."

His jaw dropped open. "That is not true."

Pulling my shirt on, I scoffed. "Please, dude. Spare me the act, okay?"

"What act?"

I pulled my jeans on, buttoning them before stepping out to face him again. "The 'you're my person, and I can't lose you' act." I quoted myself. Something about that pissed him off, because he crossed his own arms and stared me down.

"The fuck are you getting at, Y/N?"

I shook my head, brushing past him, and walked toward the bathroom.

"Noah," I turned to look directly at him. "we've been at this for years. It's kind of old, don't you think?"

His face softened slightly. "We had an agreement."

I nodded. "You're right, we did. Just sex, for the sake of our friendship. That's what you wanted."

"I thought that's what we wanted."

Waving a hand between us, I took a step toward him. "Oh no, Noah. That's what you wanted. Not me."

He was silent, then.

"I wanted more. I always have. I thought that had become clear over the years, but I fucking guess not." I could hear my voice raising a few octaves. "You didn't give me a choice. You came in, broke that boundary, and then put it right back up again. And I stayed, just so I wouldn't lose you."

I could feel the tears beginning to well in my eyes.

His voice came out small, then, his hands now buried in his pockets.

"What do you want from me, Y/N?"

I sighed, letting one tear escape. "I want you to love me."

He pulled his hands out, stepping toward me and taking one of mine. I let him.

"I do love you!"

I stared at him, my teeth ground together. "Do you? The way I love you?"

Noah was a lot of things. He was brilliant, funny, generous, dedicated. He had the most redeeming qualities of anyone I knew.

And sure, he could be stupid. But not that stupid.

He had known how I felt about him. Of course he did. That was why I kissed him every chance I got. Why I always let him in. Why I never dated anyone else. Why I stayed all this time.

But here? In this moment? He was the biggest idiot I knew, because he dropped my hand, his eyes falling with it, and took a step backward.

"I..." He huffed out a breath, looking back up at my tear-stained face. "I can't. I'm sorry."

I averted my eyes, then. I could feel myself breaking, crumbling right before him.

"You need to leave, Noah."

I could feel he wanted to pull back to me, like a moon in orbit of a planet. Gravity. But he didn't. He just stepped back toward the doorway.

"What does this mean?" I heard his voice, but wouldn't meet his eyes.

I sniffed hard, trying like hell to keep myself upright.

"It means you go on tour. Be who you are, Noah. And I'll be who I am. Without each other."

His body shifted, but I was stone, unmoving.

"I can't lose you." I heard him let out a light, sarcastic laugh. "I'll die."

I let myself laugh at that.

"No you won't, Noah. Don't be stupid."

7 Years Later

Residency is going to kill me. I may actually die in pursuit of this God awful career I've chosen. I was three years in to a five year program, intending to finish in General Practice, but until that time, I was just an idiotic twenty-seven year-old with no life, no sleep, and no clean fucking clothes to wear.

Every resident gets exactly forty-eight hours of paid time off every three months, and I had not taken mine in over a year. I finally had taken all of my hours - six days total - off of work, and after spending the entire first day sleeping, I was due to meet with Raylene in an hour.

Ray and I met at the beginning of residency, and quickly gotten close. We managed to find an affordable apartment together within walking distance of the hospital, and spent any rare free time we had together. She was currently at her boyfriend's place, spending some much needed time with him, before we went out for the evening.

I was digging through my unfolded laundry, trying to find something not too wrinkled or stained to wear tonight. Ray had told me we were going to a concert for a band she had recently discovered, but she didn't tell me who it was. I didn't care, to be honest. Existing somewhere other than the Emergency Room or my own bed sounded heavenly.

Finally settling on a deep red cropped t-shirt, black skinny jeans, and the Vans I rarely got to wear, I straightened my hair and applied what little makeup I could. I set out of the building to the waiting vehicle downstairs, Ray practically hanging from the passenger window.

"You look so fine!"

I chuckled, shaking my head. "Sure. Like I might've slept in the last two weeks?"

She chortled back at me, leaning in her seat once I was in the car. I waved hello to her boyfriend Sean, and gazed at Ray.

"So, Tyler isn't coming."

She frowned at me. "Why not?"

I shrugged. "Said he had a case he was working on, and he really couldn't spare the time."

She rolled her eyes. "Typical lawyer. Too busy for anyone but his clients."

Tyler and I had been dating for about six months now. Maintaining a relationship while having jobs as busy as ours was difficult, but he somehow managed to work it out. He would pop in when he knew I had breaks to bring me food, or have me spend nights off at his place, massaging my neck and helping me get caught up on my favorite series. He was an honest man. A good man.

I liked him.

Right?

It's so hard to tell what's like and what's convenient when you live your life exhausted and overworked, so I didn't have a lot of time to question it.

"Bummer for him. I'm so excited to see this show!" Ray was beaming in the front seat.

"Yeah, who are we seeing, anyway?"

"A band called ERRA. They're opening for a bigger headliner, who I've heard are pretty good too."

I nodded. "I've never heard them."

"It's rock. Metal, really." Sean chimed in, and I acknowledged him silently, looking out of the window.

My mind zoned out while we drove to the House of Blues. Ray and Sean chatted idly up front, but I was just enjoying the fact that I was finally out of the house for once.

That is, until we walked into the venue. The banner poster stared at me, the photographs of the band mocking me...

Bad Omens...they were the headliner.

Memories flooded back to my brain, my insides clenching at the visions.

I hadn't spoken to him since that day...that last day in my apartment. When he left, and never looked back. I didn't even keep in touch with the rest of the guys, for fear that I would be sucked back into the maelstrom that was Noah Davis...

“Y/N?” I turned to see Ray stood behind me, noticing my reaction. “You okay?”

My mind wasn’t comprehending what I was seeing. There’s no way that was them? The last time I had heard of the band, they were one-of-four supporting bands on much larger headliners. Now, they were selling out tickets at their own tour? Seven years was a long time…but how had they gotten this popular?

I wondered this, as if I didn’t know how wildly talented those boys were. Aside from Noah, Nicky, Jolly, and Nick Folio were some of the most intelligent and creative minds I had known. They all brought something special to that band, but I would have never expected this.

Huh. Guess he could live without me after all?

Something bitter crept into the back of my throat, but I swallowed it down, staring at his photograph on the poster.

“Yeah,” I tore my eyes away for a second to look at Raylene. “sorry, I’m fine. Just didn’t realize Bad Omens was the headliner.”

She raised an eyebrow. “You’ve heard of them?”

I pulled my lips to the side. Did I want to tell her?

“Long time ago.”

I couldn’t get past how different he looked in the picture. Last time I saw Noah, his hair was halfway down his back, he was skinny, and he had the thinnest little mustache growing on his upper lip.

In these promo pictures, however, his hair was short, not even reaching his ears, he looked much more muscular, and he had no facial hair. He also had many more tattoos than I remembered. That wasn’t surprising. Noah was a tattoo addict from a very young age.

Jolly had let his hair grow and had the cutest goatee on his chin. Nicky looked almost exactly the same. And Nick, bless his heart, had grown into such a handsome guy. They all looked so grown, so serious and broody. It almost made me giggle, knowing how goofy these guys were in real life.

Noah looked the most stunningly different from the rest. Not only did his entire appearance change, but his eyes…something in them was just so much darker. That harsh flame I had once known was so dim. It almost hurt to see. Almost.

We were making our way out to the pit of the GA floor. I had decided to get myself a cocktail to take the edge off. I didn't plan to come face-to-face with him, and likely wouldn't even get the opportunity to get a good look at him period, but still...just knowing we were in the same room made my throat tighten. I washed it down with Vodka and cranberry juice, hoping the warmth of the liquor would unfreeze my nerves.

The first band, Invent Animate, was entertaining enough. Very interactive with the crowd and high-energy. I found it pleasant, but couldn't get myself to focus long enough to notice what they were singing about. I struggled to breathe, the set ending, and knowing I was one hour closer to seeing his face.

During the intermission, Ray excused herself to the restroom, and I stood with Sean, feeling dizzier as the moments passed.

"Hey, I think I'm going to step out for a second. Get some air."

He quirked an eyebrow at me. "You okay? Want me to come with?"

I shook my head. "Nah, don't want you to miss the band you guys came to see. I'll be back."

He nodded, patting me on the shoulder before I weaved in and out of the crowd. I discarded my plastic cup in a trash can before exiting out into the main lobby. I found a spot on the wall near the doors that was unoccupied, and leaned against it, letting my eyes close and my breathing even out.

When I opened my eyes, I searched the room, looking for nothing specific. I landed on the merch tables, and saw someone oddly familiar talking to the lead singer of the last band we had watched...

The liquid courage is what carried me in that direction, smiling to myself.

He stood with his hair pulled back, as usual, and was talking with his hands. Same as he always did.

"Nicky Ruffilo..." I said loud enough to hopefully catch his attention, my hands now grasping the edge of the table.

His head snapped over to look at me, his brows knit together curiously. I could tell he was putting it together.

"No fucking way..." His voice sounded the same as it always had. "Y/N?!"

My teeth flashed at him, and he circled the table to approach me, his arms pulling me into a tight hug.

"Jesus Christ, I didn't recognize you!" That was fair.

Since the last time I had seen any of the guys, I had bleached my hair a pale blonde, lost twenty-five pounds, and had grown two cup sizes. I was, for all intents and purposes, an entirely different person.

"Yeah, well I absolutely recognized you." I said as I gripped his shirt, squeezing him tight.

"How long has it been?" He asked, pulling back to look at me.

"Uh," I thought for a moment. "seven-ish years?"

Nick's eyes were in disbelief, an amazed leer on his face. "God damn, girl. I can't believe it."

I pointed to the banner above his head. "Headlining now, huh? That's amazing!"

He smiled, proudly. "Yeah, we've worked really hard. A lot's changed."

My eyes fell on Noah's face on the poster. "I can see that."

I could tell he was pondering, a question hanging on the edge of his tongue. It was the most obvious question, so I answered for him.

"He doesn't know I'm here."

He nodded, leaning an arm on the table comfortably. "Ah, okay. You didn't want him to?"

I snorted. "I didn't even know I'd be here. My friends came to see ERRA, and that's when I realized you guys were here."

"Makes sense." He had crossed his arms. "Do you want him to know?"

Contemplating this, I let my face fall to get away from his gaze. I wasn't certain how to answer that, but it seemed like the answer was clear regardless.

"No." I sighed hard. "It's probably for the best that he doesn't, right?"

I couldn't read Nick's face, if he was disappointed or relieved. He seemed to be pretty satisfied with my answer, but I could tell he had more he wished he could say.

"Fair enough." Was all he gave me, before letting out a breath. "So, you still live up here?"

I let my muscles relax for a second. "Yeah, doing a residency at Brigham right now."

"Residency? Does that mean you're a doctor?" He asked, clearly confused.

I cackled at this. "Yeah, full blown doctor. Got the little 'MD' after my name and everything."

He beamed at me. "That's so great! Congratulations!"

"Thank you, Nicky." It fell quiet between us once again, and I could hear ERRA's set beginning. "Well, I should probably-"

He spoke over me. "Yeah! Those guys put on a great show. Don't miss it!"

I gave him another hug, reveling in how warm he still felt.

Turning to walk away, I stopped, needing one last thing...

"Nick?"

His face turned back to me.

"How is he?"

I could see the sadness fall over his tan features, and I instantly regretted asking.

"He's..." He trailed off, taking in a large breath. "He's different, Y/N. I doubt you'd recognize him."

"How so?"

Something about my question almost seemed to annoy him. Odd?

"Like I said, a lot has changed. He's changed. He had to." He gestured to me. "Same way you did."

I accepted this, not wanting to press any further. "Thanks, Nick."

He pointed a finger at me. "Hey, we're going to be back here in the fall for a couple days. Don't be a stranger, okay?" I grinned at this. "I know Jolly and Folio would kill to see you."

I just nodded, turning and walking away. My eyes met with Ray's, who was standing, watching my interaction. How much had she seen? Did she hear anything?

"Hey, what are you doing? You're missing ERRA!"

Her brows were pulled up suspiciously. "Who was that?" She pointed after Nick, who had now disappeared from the merch table.

I shook my head. "Oh, that guy? He's the bassist in the headliner band."

This wasn't good enough for her, I could tell by the way she pursed her lips. "Uh-huh. And...you just decided to chat him up like old friends?"

I groaned. "Ugh, how long were you standing there?"

She put all her weight on one hip. "Long enough to see you two talking like you've known each other before. Care to explain?"

Raylene was so nosey. She came by it honestly, her father being a police detective. But still, why did this matter?

"It's not a big deal, Ray. I'll tell you later."

I pulled on her arm, trying to lead her back to the concert hall, but she stood firm, eyeing me. I sucked my teeth in frustration.

"Damn it, alright, come here."

She followed me to the doors leading outside, and we stepped into the cool air.

"Alright, look, I've known Nick since I was ten."

Her eyes jumped. "Oh? Back in West Virginia?"

I nodded. "Exactly. I had no idea their band was going to be here."

"Do you know anyone else in the band?"

I glanced around, feeling wildly uncomfortable by the conversation.

"I may know the entire band."

Her eyes exploded, nearly shooting out of her face cartoonistically.

"What?! The whole band?" I just nodded. "Jesus, Y/N. That's insane!"

I giggled. "I guess. It's just a coincidence."

She smiled at me. "Well that's awesome! Do you want to see the rest of them after? They're doing a free merch signing."

Panic filled my chest, and I put a hand out to grab her shoulder. "No, no. I don't, uh..." I tried to keep my voice solid. "I don't keep in touch with them anymore."

Her eyes narrowed. "Oh? Okay, if you're sure." Something in my voice must have made her feel my anxiety.

We turned, ready to make our way back inside.

"It is too bad. The lead singer's a real looker. I heard one of the girls in the crowd say his name was Noah Sebastian? He's pretty cute."

I almost walked straight into the door, my foot banging off of the pillar. Ray turned around to see me, and something about the look on my face made realization flash over her.

"Oh my God, are you ok-" She stopped dead, eyes widening again. "Wait..."

"Ray, don't." I knew what she had figured out.

"Noah..." I put my hands up, glancing around to ensure no one was looking at us. "As in...Noah? Your old best friend?!"

I shushed her harshly. "Please, Ray. I don't want to think about this."

"That's the guy?! Noah Sebastian is the guy that broke your heart?!"

I was going to actually vomit at that.

"Fuck! Can we not?!" I raised my voice, which made her snap her mouth closed. "Besides, I don't know a Noah Sebastian."

She looked confused. "Is that not his real name?"

I rolled my eyes, turning to walk back in. "It's his middle name."

I spaced out most of what was left of ERRA's set, just trying to put the pieces back together in my brain. This night had not turned into what I had hoped.

I just wanted one night, an easy night, to take a deep breath away from my hectic life. Instead, I was reliving some of my most painful memories, and had a headache to go right along with it from the alcohol. My chest vibrated, the bass just making it so much more difficult to focus.

I stood off of the GA floor, near the bar area, not even realizing the band had finished, and people were swarming to grab drinks and use the restrooms before the men of the evening appeared. Ray approached me, another Vodka cran in her hand, and pushed it into mine.

"Here my love, drink this." I took a long gulp of it. "Do you want us to go? We don't have to stay..."

My eyes were fixed on the stage, where I could see people setting up the equipment. "No." I huffed out a breath, and squeezed my cup. "No, I want to see them play, I think."

She raised an eyebrow. "You're sure? This can't be easy for you."

My eyes burned into her face, which almost made her flinch. "I may never get to see him again, Ray. I have to."

She just nodded, arm linking with mine. "You want to watch from up here?"

I nodded, crunching on a piece of ice from my drink. "No chance of him spotting me back here."

She affirmed my request, and leaned back against the wall with me.

I felt my phone vibrate, and I pulled it from my pocket to see Tyler's name on the screen.

Tyler: Hey beautiful! How's the show?

I held my breath. What kind of a question was that?

Me: Fine. Almost over, just one band left.

He didn't take but a minute to respond.

Tyler: Having fun?

Ha, what a joke.

Me: Yeah. I've had some drinks, so it's helping.

Tyler: Well, enjoy it baby! You deserve it.

That wasn't fair. None of it was. Having to see Noah? The fact that I had an amazing guy, who genuinely liked me, who waited for me. But I still couldn't get my mind off of that irritatingly beautiful face about to take the stage.

The lights went down, and I felt myself tense, throwing back the rest of my drink. My teeth were numb, if that made any sense at all. Ray's hand gripped mine tight, holding me up.

A cinematic scene played on the screens, but I wasn't watching, eyes hastily searching the stage.

A tall man, who I instantly recognized as Jolly, stepped center-stage, a guitar in his hand playing the opening riff to the song. It was heavy, deep and soul shaking.

Folio came out next, his face, like Jolly's, covered in a black ski mask.

Nick took his spot, playing his bass tones.

And then, as the opening crescendoed, a voice rang through the speakers.

A voice I'd never forget.

"Can you hear me through the white noise?"

He blasted onto the stage, glory and all, face covered and thick black jacket on his shoulders.

He sounded different. Angry. Raw, Aggressive. The feeling that sank in my stomach pulled me back further against the wall.

The song played through, his words pulsing through my veins.

As quick as it had started, it was over, and we were on to the next.

The next track was calmer, red lights glowing all throughout the stage.

They had all removed their masks, and I saw his face for the first time. He looked so much older, making it difficult for me to believe he was the same person.

The words of the song resonated deep in my thoughts.

"I don't want to know all your secrets, cause I'll tell. It's hard enough being alone with myself. I don't know how long I'll be holding on..."

Breathing deeply, I watched as the crowd moved with the music, electrifying the energy in the room. It was intoxicating.

Noah had changed...

The set played on without hitch, the entire time I caught myself holding in breaths until I felt my lungs nearly bursting. I couldn't take my eyes off of him, feeling the familiar ache beginning to creep back in.

The music stopped, and a bunch of lights came up. By this time, Noah had discarded his jacket, button-up, and only stood in a black tank top, hands wrapped in what looked like boxing wraps?

"Alright, Boston, how we feeling?" His speaking voice even sounded different...

The crowd erupted.

"We are Bad Omens, and we sincerely appreciate you all being here tonight. The next song we are going to play for you all has been the biggest turning point this band has ever seen." I heard the screams, and did my best to tune them out so I could hear his words. "Is anyone familiar with a song called Just Pretend?"

The room rocked with the cheers and chants of the crowd.

"That volume that I just heard? That's the volume I want to hear you sing this with me, okay? Don't worry about trying to hit the perfect note or get all of the words right. It's about us all, being here together tonight."

The music played softly behind him when his lips reached the microphone.

"I can wait for you at the bottom. I can stay away if you want me to. I can wait for years if I gotta. Heaven knows I ain't getting over you..."

My heart twisted in my chest.

"I'm not afraid, of the war you've come to wage against my sins. I'm not okay, but I can try my best to just pretend. So will you wait me out? Or will you drown me out?"

The tears pooled in my eyes. No fucking way. The song played on, mocking me with the lyrics.

"I know the pain that you hide behind the smile on your face. And not a day goes by where I don't think I feel the same."

"We'll try again, when we're not so different. We will make amends, till then I'll just pretend."

My hands came up to cover my face, my lip trembling hard.

"Weigh down on me. Stay till morning. Way down. Would you say I'm worthy?"

I choked on a sob, my legs pushing me forward, and I ran out of the room. I felt my stomach lurching, my mouth clamping closed as I ran toward the bathroom.

I heard Ray chasing behind me. "Y/N! Wait!"

Flying into the bathroom and finding the first open stall, I fell to my knees, emptying the contents of my stomach into the toilet. My hands gripped my hair, tears falling hard down my face.

"Oh God, babe." Ray reached to grab my hair from me as I wretched all of the Vodka out of my stomach, my heart and soul pouring out with it.

When I finished, I let my chest heave with sobs, my hand covering my eyes in ebarrassment.

"Fuck, Ray." I said as I wiped my face with the tissue she handed me. "I've got to get the hell out of here."

She nodded. "Okay, my love. Let's do that."

After a solid twenty minutes of cleaning myself up in the bathroom, we stepped out, noticing the crowd now formed outside, waiting at the table for the band to come out for the signing. Ray was frantically dialing Sean, trying to find him among the sea of people. I just plopped myself down on the floor near the restroom, trying to relax as best as I could.

"Y/N?" I looked up at her. "I have to go find Sean. He isn't answering. Can you wait here for me?"

I just nodded, defeated. She was gone, lost within the abyss of people, and I sat, waiting, head in my hands.

I was pulled out of my stupor by the sound of cheering. The band had come out, all waving and smiling. I didn't even bother chancing a glance at him, for fear I may vomit again.

Ray had not come back yet, despite the four or five texts I had now sent her. I had been waiting for a solid thirty minutes, people watching the line and avoiding seeing his face. The ropes of the line were blocking my view of the faces sitting at the table.

After another fifteen, Ray finally bounded up to me, out of breath, Sean in tow.

"Fuck, I'm so sorry! That crowd is vicious!"

I stood slowly, the room only slightly spinning. I swallowed the dry, disgusting feeling in my throat, and began moving toward the exits that were now mostly clear.

"Let's go." She nodded at me, and took my arm. We had to wait behind several people trying to all get through the same revolving door. My skin felt spiky and cold.

"Hang on! Wait!"

A voice behind me made ice run through my veins, and I closed my eyes, begging whatever God existed to spare me in this moment.

A hand gripped my shoulder, and I tensed, turning my face, and my eyes looked straight at him.

He had spotted me, running from his table to catch me. He had to have been pretty damn sure it was me to chase after me like that. Fans began to crowd us, camera phones coming out, pictures snapping.

The look on his face was much less certain than I expected, as if he possibly made a mistake.

"I'm sorry..." His voice was unsteady. "Do I," He cleared his throat, eyes bouncing back and forth between my own. "know you?"

My eyebrows shot up. He really didn't recognize me?

He thought he did, but now...

"No. I don't think so." I spit out my words, teeth grinding together. It felt exactly the same as the last time I had seen him.

He dropped his hand, eyes still transfixed on mine. "I swore..."

I just turned my body, pressing my way past the gathered crowd, not giving him the chance to think it through.

In the car, I stared out the back window, arms wrapped around myself.

"What did he say, honey?" Ray's voice was so gentle.

"He didn't recognize me. He thought he did, but once he got up close, I guess I look too different." My words were only a peg above a whisper.

"You going to be okay? I don't have to stay at Sean's."

I just wiped the stray tear off of my cheek. "It's fine. I'd rather be alone."

-

A long, scalding shower, two handfuls of shredded cheese, and a solid half-hour crying session later, I was laid catatonically on my bed, eyes staring at the screen as Grey's Anatomy flashed across my screen.

I had blanked my mind out, forcing myself to let the thoughts go for the night. I was too tired and broken to let my heart hurt like this again. It took a solid year to get over Noah enough that I was able to function again. My first year of med school was disappointing, and I didn't make any friends until I made it into the second year. It took me nearly three to start dating.

I couldn't do that again.

I had been ignoring the texts going off on my phone, assuming it was Ray just checking on me for the thousandth time. I did, however, decide to take a look when I heard my ringtone going off.

Who would be calling me at 2AM?

I didn't even bother checking the screen before I put the phone up to my ear, my voice hoarse from crying.

"Hello?"

"What are the odds that you haven't changed your number after all this time?"

I sat bolt upright, my voice catching in my throat. The voice on the other end sounded nearly as wrecked as mine.

"Noah?" It barely came out.

"It's been a long time."

I cleared the newly formed phlegm out of my throat. "It has."

"I knew that was you." It sounded deadly quiet in the background of his end of the line. "Why didn't you tell me you were coming tonight?"

I sighed. "Nick told you?"

"He might've."

I groaned. "Well, I asked him not to."

"Why?"

I scoffed. "What do you mean, why?" I rubbed my eyes. "We're not exactly speaking anymore, Noah."

He hummed. "That's true."

I chewed on my lip, not having any kind of clue of what to say.

"What did you think?"

"Of the show?"

"Mhm."

I sighed. "It was good. Different than what I would have expected."

A soft laugh came through the line. "How so?"

I smiled at that. "It's just a lot different than what I expected your music to sound like."

"In a bad way?"

"No. Not at all."

"I'm glad you enjoyed it." His voice was so serious. So monotone. Nothing at all like what I remembered.

The line fell silent again, and I found this irritating. What was he playing at?

"Why did you call, Noah?"

I heard a breath on the other end, and some rustling. "I don't know."

"Well, maybe you shouldn't have."

"Maybe. I wanted to hear your voice."

My stomach tightened. "Now you have. I should go."

"Wait..." I held the phone firm, waiting. "I want to see you."

My heart pounded. "What?"

"I need to see you." His words were so matter-of-fact.

"I don't think so, Noah. That's not a great idea."

"It's not, but I'm asking..." He sounded so small. "Can I please see you?"

I perused the idea. "When?"

"Now?"

I scrunched up my face, sitting up again. "Now? It's after two in the morning."

"I don't care. I'll come to wherever you are."

This struck me. Maybe he hadn't changed?

"I, uh," I struggled to speak. "Noah, I don't know. I'm at home, it's late. I should be sleeping."

"Y/N?" I stopped, listening. "Please?"

I am a weak woman, and that is just plain fact. I was frantically running throughout the apartment, attempting to tidy any kind of mess I could get my hands on. Ray and I hadn't taken the time to really clean in months, so it was stressing me out. My pajama pants were hanging low on my hips, and I swam in my large sweatshirt.

My hair was falling loose around my face, and I was sure my eyes were puffy from the crying I had done. How insane was I? Had I completely lost it?

It was almost 3AM when a knock came at my apartment door, and I froze in place. What was I doing? Why was I allowing this to happen? I didn't need to do this to myself.

I was fine, living in my normal, tired bubble. I was headed towards a successful career that would take me further than I ever imagined. Why was I allowing this trainwreck of a friendship back into my life? What was I thinking?!

I wasn't. That was the answer to that question.

I opened the door, not sure what to expect on the other side. He stood, still as tall as I remembered, looming in the doorway. He wore a black hoodie, hands tucked neatly in the pocket. Dark blue jeans and black Converse. A white beanie covering his hair.

Like this, he looked almost recognizable. Except for his eyes...

Just like in the photograph I had seen earlier, his eyes were so dark. There was very little life behind them. Deep blue circles hung under the rims, making a pull in my chest show itself.

I just stood, blocking the doorway, hand white-knuckling the frame.

"Hi." Was all he managed. He was staring at me, eyes moving up and down my face as if he was seeing an apparition.

"Hi." I echoed, trying to not feel out of place under his stare.

"I'm glad you agreed to see me." He didn't move an inch, his jaw ticking closed with his last work.

I just nodded, letting out all of my air. "Yeah, well, you were insistent."

He nodded, finally looking away from me and down at the ground.

"I had to."

I pursed my lips, narrowing my eyes. "Did you?" He raised a brow at me. "Did you just have to see me? Because I think we probably would've been alright without it."

I could see his face fall, hurt by what I said, but I didn't care. He never did.

"I'm sorry. I know it's selfish."

"Mm," I pinched my lips together, and opened my door wider. "come in."

I stalked back into the house, not daring to look back at him. I heard the door shut behind me, and I steadied myself, expecting to turn around and see him vanished.

To my chagrin, he was still there.

Deciding not to stagnate, I walked into the kitchen, pulling a bottle of tea from the fridge, and walking back out to the living area. He hadn't moved, and was still staring at me.

"So." I motioned to him. "What can I do for you?"

Noah was so statuesque, as if carved right out of stone. "I don't really know."

My face lifted, a smirk on my lips. "You don't know? Noah," I placed a hand on my hip. "you show up here at 3AM, and you have no idea why?"

He shrugged, eyes begging me for mercy. "I'm sorry. I don't."

"Can you stop apologizing and just tell me why you're here?!" My patience snapped, startling even me.

This took him back, but instead of tucking tail and backing away, he stood straighter, face hardening.

"I can't tell you why I'm here if I don't know, alright?" His words were stern.

"Well you must have some kind of reason? Because this feels wildly unnecessary."

He raised his eyebrows in disbelief. "It is? So you didn't want to see me?"

I set my tea on the coffee table and stood nonchalantly. "Not really."

He narrowed his eyes. "I don't buy it." He took a step toward me, but I stood firm. "If you didn't you wouldn't have stayed, tonight. You would've left after you saw the band your friends went to see."

He was closer now, and it felt like a string had tethered between us, the tension slowly slacking.

"Yeah, well, I wanted to see your set. See how the band was doing."

He snickered at me. "Oh, sure. Of course." His hands finally appeared from his pockets, one running over his chin. "Which song was your favorite?"

Oop. I wasn't expecting that.

"The second one. Villain, or something?"

He nodded. "Like A Villain." Noah's eyes weren't buying it. "Which one did you like least?"

I scoffed. "I don't know, Noah? The first one?"

"Mm, and which one was that?"

I was swallowing the lump in my throat. I couldn't remember, the night blurring together.

"Uh, I don't know the name."

He took a step back, triumphant. "You weren't there for the set. You wanted to see me."

Rolling my eyes, I crossed my arms. "Still as self-absorbed as ever, I see?"

"Am I wrong?"

He had me backed into a corner, and he fucking knew it.

I threw my arms up. "Fine! Maybe I did. But you wanted to see me too."

He sneered at me, venom on his lips. "Obviously, or else I wouldn't be here."

"You still haven't said why."

"Why did you want to see me?"

My voice was raising, frustration growing. "I don't know!"

"I don't know either!" He yelled back at me, and my mouth snapped closed. Noah never raised his voice at me. Not ever.

He took three long strides over to me until he was only stood a foot away.

"I didn't expect to ever see you again, Y/N! I thought you were gone forever! So imagine my surprise when I see you walking out of the House of Blues, and you deny even knowing me!"

I felt like shrinking into a ball right there on the floor, ceasing to exist.

"I wanted to see you because how could I not?! Seven fucking years, Y/N!" He backed down for a second, his breathing becoming ragged. "I've been waiting seven years."

I furrowed my brow. "Waiting?"

"For you to reach out. To tell me you missed me. To give me some kind of indication we could reconcile and be us again."

There was a fire, deep down in my gut, that I had never been able to truly extinguish. A fire Noah had lit years ago. A mine shaft burning like the depths of hell in my belly that I had buried under concrete and therapy, keeping it at bay.

In my apartment, tonight, that fire broke loose. And there was no stopping it.

"Are you fucking kidding me?!" I took a step forward, pressing into his space, index finger jabbing into his chest. "I was supposed to reach out?!"

He took a step back, eyes now full of fear.

"I professed my love to you, Noah! I told you I wanted you, and you fucking left!"

He puffed at me, pointing a finger back at me. "You told me to leave!'

"Yes! Because you told me you didn't love me! You told me you couldn't love me the way I loved you!"

He squeezed his lids shut tight, growling and turning away from me, taking several steps away. His hands came up, gripping the beanie on his head.

"God damn it Y/N!" He turned to look at me, a fiery rage matching my own behind his eyes. "Of course I fucking loved you!"

My heart stopped, completely motionless.

"What?"

"I've always loved you! From the moment I laid fucking eyes on you! I've never loved anyone, no one, the way I loved you!" He charged me, backing me toward the couch. "But I couldn't love you, Y/N! I wasn't good enough. I was a piss-poor high school dropout musician trying to make a name for himself, and, until recently, failing miserably."

I couldn't speak, thoughts racing so fast, I struggled to keep up.

"And you?" He pointed a finger back into my chest. "You were smart, and motivated, and you were going to make something of yourself. I couldn't drag you down with me. I couldn't force you to follow this journey with me. It would've ruined your life!"

My lungs weren't working right, and my hands were shaking. He wasn't actually saying this. I was hallucinating.

"So I left. I left to give you a chance at a real life. Which, evidently, you've managed to build without me." He took a step back, then, dropping his hands. "And I, somehow, without you."

This hurt me, hearing he had managed to become so successful, despite my involvement.

"Noah, I had no idea-"

"No," He cut me off. "you didn't."

I hadn't even caught the tears falling from my eyes, blurring my vision until he was just a watery mess in front of me.

"You didn't need me." I choked out, and he looked directly at me, inquisitively. "You've made it so far. You're a rockstar now, Noah."

He scoffed. "Y/N, you don't get it." He looked away from me, focused on the wall behind me. "I died without you. Something inside of me was lost the day I left, and I never got it back."

"Well, you're successful now, so it can't be so bad, right?"

He snorted, shaking his head. "Success always comes with a price."

My lips were wet with the tears I couldn't hold in, and I couldn't keep my breathing even. I knew he saw it, but hesitated to engage, wanting to keep a wide berth between us. I couldn't take it. It was too much.

Hearing he loved me. Hearing I had been wrong all this time. Hearing that the heartbreak I felt for so long wasn't his fault. He was protecting me, even after all these years.

"Noah?" He chanced a glance at me, and I saw his own eyes sparkling with moisture.

I couldn't take it.

I rushed him, grabbing hold of his shoulder and clinging on, desperate to find relief against him. My lips smashed into his, tearing apart the barrier I had worked so hard to build.

His hands grabbed me, holding me into place against him, his lips melted into mine, returning the kiss fervently. We were hopeless. We were hungry.

My tears didn't stop flowing, emotion pouring out of every pore. My fingers clawed at him, needing to get closer. My hand grabbed the beanie, and pulled it off of his head, his dark hair falling over his eyes. I gripped it at the scalp, trying to pull myself closer.

Feeling what I was attempting to do, his hands lifted me by the back of my legs, so I could wrap them around his midsection. I refused to disconnect the kiss, breathing in his soul. It was so real and so familiar. How I missed it like hell.

His legs carried us to the couch, where he sat us down. My legs straddled him, and I finally pulled away to tug at the sweatshirt he wore. He made quick work of pulling it up over his head while I did the same with my own. Reconnecting our lips, my hands wandered over his neck and chest, scratching at the fabric of his shirt.

His teeth caught my bottom lip, and I moaned into his mouth. His fingers pulled at the waistband of my pajama pants, and I lifted myself enough to slip them off, replacing myself on his lap. His jeans were already getting tighter as his hands smoothed up and down my thighs.

"Fucking hell." He looked down, staring at my bare breasts in front of him. "These got bigger, huh?"

I laughed, taking a deep breath. "Yeah, well, things change."

His fingers gripped around my left breast, lips falling to circle around the hardened nipple. I let my head fall back, relishing in the warm feeling spreading throughout my body.

"Still so fucking beautiful, just like I remember." I pulled at the hair on the back of his neck. "Did you miss me, baby girl?"

I ground my hips down against him in response. His hand began playing with the button of his jeans, and I moved it away to open them myself.

I stood up to pull his jeans down to his knees, his boxers bulging in the crotch.

"Oh, fuck." I sighed out. "Yeah, I missed you."

His smile then was devious, some of that regular spark shining back in his eyes. "Then show me, huh?"

Reaching into the opening of his underwear, I pulled his cock free, taking a moment to remember just how large it was. It had been a very long time since I had seen anything quite that impressive. Dipping my head down, I licked a long stripe up the shaft, lingering on the head to gather the precome leaking out.

"Holy shit." His head fell back on the couch, his eyes rolling back with it. "Mm, do that again, please?"

I smirked, looking up at him. "Only since you asked so nicely."

My tongue repeated the movement, drawing out a hard groan out of him, his legs twitching. "Fuck yeah, baby."

Without warning, I wrapped my lips around him and swallowed him as far down as my throat would allow, gagging on the tip as it struck my tonsils. His hips jolted upward, effectively fucking my throat.

"Please, Y/N, I won't last that way." He begged, his words only coming out as breaths. "I need to feel you, please."

He was begging, and I couldn't resist it. I needed him too.

I stood back up, and kneeled on either side of him, carefully lining him up with my entrance. When I sunk down, that delicious burn pierced through me, and my body collapsed onto him at the intensity of it.

"Noah, oh my God." He ran a hand up my back, allowing me a moment to adjust.

"I know, baby. I know." He soothed me, rubbing small circles into my skin.

My hips stuttered forward, needing to feel the friction. His hand reached down to grab my ass, and lifted me upward. Without warning, his hips snapped forward and fucked into me, making a sharp scream leave my lips.

My face rested on his chest, whimpers falling from my throat with each hard thrust.

"Fuck, you missed me, pretty girl?" He was panting between his words, his rhythm picking up speed. "Missed the way I fuck you?"

My eyes were rolling back, the tears from before now replaced with tears of raw pleasure.

"I'll bet you've never been fucked like this, huh?" His words were just tones of desire playing in my ears, his cock absolutely destroying me. "No one can fuck you like I can, baby. No one."

My nails dug hard into his shirt, begging for release.

"Let me know when you come, baby. Not finishing until you do."

Luckily for him, I was riding the edge so hard it was making the room spin. Biting my lip to keep from screaming, I lifted myself to look at his face.

"Noah," I searched his eyes, his hips not faltering. "I love you."

He grit his teeth, trying to focus on me and his hips at the same time. "I love you, too. So fucking much."

My face fell back down, landing on the side of his neck. "I'm going to come. Please, Noah, I'm so close..."

He, somehow, managed to pump into me harder, sending my body over the cliff and into the warm waves of my orgasm. My body went slack against him as my walls pulsed around his length.

I heard him curse, and his hips stilled. I felt him spasming inside me, and silently thanked myself for my IUD.

We laid that way, sweaty and heaving, for a solid ten minutes before either of us could find the strength to move. I slipped him out of me, and sat up to look at him. He looked absolutely wrecked, in the best possible way.

I smiled, feeling a warmth spread over me.

"Hi." Was all I could manage.

He chuckled tiredly. "Hi."

-

After our excursion, Noah and I had taken a few minutes to clean up, and, being as exhausted as you'd expect, decided to lay together for a while.

He told me he had to leave within a few hours to get back to his hotel, heading to the next city bright and early, so I told him I'd stay up until he had to leave.

However, in my bed, his arms wrapped tightly around me, his voice whispering sweet words in my ears, I struggled to remain conscious.

"Do you remember when I bought you that Oasis album for your fourteenth birthday? That was basically me professing my love to you."

"I was such an idiot. I should've just told you."

"You have no idea how much I've missed you. I don't think you'll ever understand."

"I'm so sorry. I wish things were different..."

And that's how I woke up, light in my bedroom far too bright, and my bed empty.

I don't know what I expected? For him to stay? Fuck off his tour to make up for lost time with me?

But still, my chest stung when I saw he had left, but I wasn't surprised.

Something had changed last night, and the darkness that lingered in the depths of my being had lifted, leaving me with a sense of hope I hadn't felt before.

When I had woken for the day, clearing the cobwebs from my eyes, I contemplated my next move. He had surely left town already, but that didn't mean I couldn't keep in touch, right?

Pulling out my phone, I found his contact, and opened a text thread.

Me: Hey, call me when you can. I think we have a lot to talk about. :)

I set my phone down on the bathroom counter, preparing to brush my teeth when my phone dinged, and the notification told me the text had failed.

Odd?

I resent it, getting the same response.

Why would my messages fail? I paid my bill, right?

Quickly dialing Ray's number, I held the phone to my ear and heard the ringing, so I knew my service was fine. Giving her a quick apology for waking her, I hung up, and went back to my texts.

His number was the same, right?

I went back to my call logs, seeing it was his number that called me last night, so it was the same as it had always been.

So...what the hell?

My finger hovered over the number for a moment, and I weighed the options before finally resolving to just call him. Make sure I wasn't losing my mind.

I held the phone to my face as I started brushing my teeth, waiting for the call to connect.

"The number you have reached is not in service. If you feel you have reached this message in error, please hang up and try your call again."

[illdowhatiwantthanks]

Hiya,

Do you think maybe you could write a Casey x Autistic!reader (not necessarily the same autistic reader from the previous ones) where casey snaps at reader after an interaction where reader thought everything was all fine and dandy, but things were in fact not fine and dandy (plus casey being under a lot of stress from work).

Ive had multiple social interactions where i get whiplashed because i thought i was doing all the right things and saying all the right things, but in fact wasn’t and getting scolded or teased (negative) about it…

-Ara

Hey, Ara! So glad to see a request from you! 💖 Every time you interact with any of my stuff, I'm like, "Oh, yay! Ara's here!" Ngl this one was hard to write. Mostly because I also have been in many social situations where I am trying so hard to do or say the right thing and end up messing things up for people I care about. There are a lot of things about being autistic that I've grown to enjoy and cherish, but this one... oof. This one's still hard. It's a little longer than my usual, but I hope it's what you're looking for! – illdowhatiwantthanks

They Go Low

Casey Novak x autistic!fem!reader Warnings: people being meanies, angst (resolved at the end though!), hurt/comfort-ish (?), explicit language (let me know if I've missed anything!) Word count: 3.2k

Summary: It's the annual New York County Lawyers Association gala, and you're going as Casey's date. You're terrified of messing something up, socially and, well, when the worst happens...

You exhaled heavily as you stood in front of the mirror, adjusting your tie and your pocket square. You looked good, objectively speaking. You’d gotten a haircut the day before. The suit was custom-made and fit you like a glove. And Casey had helped you put on “just a little makeup, babe.” But you weren’t worried about looking good at the New York County Lawyers Association Gala. You were worried about acting good.

Casey came up behind you and wrapped her arms around your waist. She looked so pretty it took your breath away. Full evening gown, in a deep, forest green, with a halter top, which you loved because it allowed the dress to contrast against Casey’s hair. Rich and red and glorious and one of your favorite parts of her, even if she did get self-conscious about it sometimes.

“You look so beautiful, honey,” she said, planting a light kiss on your cheek, careful not to leave any lipstick.

“Not as beautiful as you,” you told her. You knew that parties like this should be fun. What you wanted was to be a perfect partner for Casey, to be someone worth showing off at an event like this. Casey already felt like an outsider at a lot of these events because she wasn’t New York law royalty like some of the others. She didn’t come from money. She’d worked to get where she was. Hard.

You’d come a long way in accepting autism as part of yourself, even come a long way in loving yourself for it, thanks in no small part to Casey. But small talk? With strangers? It wasn’t your strong suit. You wanted so badly to make Casey proud, but you always felt like you were subpar. Like there were whole levels of conversation going on above you. You could tell they were there. You knew you were missing things, but you couldn’t tell what you were missing.

You let out another shaky breath, fidgeting, trying hard to keep your fingers quiet at your side as you stimmed, practicing for when you’d be at the gala.

“Hey,” Casey said, turning you around to look at her. You avoided her eyes, but she bent her head a bit so you had to meet them. She ruffled your hair a bit, playing with the waves, with the fluff of it at the top of your head. “You okay?”

You shrugged. “Just nervous.”

“You…” she started, straightening your suit jacket and helping you with your cufflinks. Your heart swelled; you hadn’t even asked–she just knew. “...are charming and funny and sweet. You’re so smart. You’re a great listener. You’re good with people, even if you don’t think you are.”

You nodded, drying your sweaty palms on your suit pants.

“You’re gonna be fine, honey. Alex will be there. So will Liz and Rita. If you get nervous and you can’t find me, or I’m having to talk with other people, you can always find them. They know you and they like you.”

“Okay,” you conceded, voice shaky.

In the taxi, you played with Casey’s fingers–a nervous tick that she indulged. You liked the feeling of a fresh coat of nail polish on her nails, liked to press on it, but you were careful not to press too hard and ruin it tonight.

“I like this color,” you told her, brushing the pads of your fingers along her wine-red nails.

“Me too,” she agreed. “You don’t think it looks too much like Christmas? With the dress?”

You surveyed her quickly and shook her head. “No. It looks nice. You look nice.”

Your leg started to bounce as you got closer to the venue.

“Casey, what will I even talk about? The weather!? The Bill of Rights!?” You were starting to panic a bit, even as you tried to shut it off–it was Casey’s night. You did not want her having to take care of you during the NYCLA gala.

“Well, let’s make a list, yeah?” Casey said, taking your hands and flattening them between hers to relieve the tension you held there. “You can ask about where they’re from and talk about where you’re from. That’s always a classic.”

You nodded, determined not to need help this evening.

“You could ask what type of law they practice.”

You furrowed your eyebrows. “Casey, I don’t know anything about law.”

She nudged you with her shoulder. “Sure you do! I talk about work all the time. Just talk about the lawyer-y stuff you know from me.”

“Okay.” You were talking more to yourself than her. “Okay, I can do that.”

Casey squeezed your hand as you exited the cab. You took a deep breath, offered her your arm, and walked in, determined to make Casey proud.

And for the most part, you did alright. Casey introduced you around during the cocktail reception, and you figured out what to say. Your go-to was making people laugh. If you could just find an anecdote, just latch onto a story that resonated with these people, then everything became easier. Then it was just a routine, like giving a rehearsed speech instead of improvising every conversation.

You ate dinner, spoke cordially, if quietly, with the other people at yours and Casey’s table, and laughed in all the right spots at the program. You’d even managed to keep your stimming to a minimum.

But now the night was winding down. Groups of lawyers were scattered about the room. When you returned from the restroom, Casey seemed in deep conversation with a few other people, and you didn’t want to interrupt, so you went to stand by the bar, nursing your last cocktail of the night and trying desperately not to look awkward or out-of-place.

A tall man, imposing, but with a friendly face, approached the bar, ordered a dirty martini, and stood nearby. He nodded at you, and you nodded back.

“I haven’t seen you around before,” he said.

“Yeah, I don’t attend a whole lot of lawyer events,” you replied, taking a quick sip.

The man laughed. That had been one of your best lines of the night.

He introduced himself, extending his hand. “Trevor Langan.”

“Y/N Y/L/N.” You shook his hand, flashbacks of practicing a “firm handshake” with your dad in the back of your mind.

“So what brings you to the NYCLA gala, if you’re not a lawyer?”

“Oh, um, do you know Casey Novak? She’s in the Manhattan DA’s office?”

Langan’s eyes lit up. “Oh, sure! Casey and I go way back.”

You smiled, glad to have something to talk about, something you could talk about forever–Casey. “She’s my girlfriend.”

“Ah,” Langan said, tipping his drink toward you, as if in a toast. “Lucky woman.”

“Her or me?”

He burst out laughing and you tried to laugh along, too, even though it had been a genuine question.

“Good one.” He took a sip of his martini. “In all seriousness, though, Casey knows her stuff. She doesn’t crack. Hard to believe she’s human sometimes.”

Oh, now you could hit your stride. Casey as a person. You loved getting to show off Casey’s soft side.

“She’s great at her job,” you agreed. “Not that I know a ton about being a lawyer, but… she struggles, too, you know? Some of the SVU cases can be really emotionally difficult. Like, I know she’s working on one right now that’s really taking a toll.”

He raised his eyebrows. “Oh, really? What’s the case?”

“There’s this serial rapist,” you explained. “Apparently, they’ve been trying to nail him for years. They had DNA evidence linking him to one of the rapes, but I guess the judge threw it out recently? Not really sure why… But Casey says there’s not a whole lot else to go on, so she’s been working really hard with SVU to dig up more evidence.”

“Huh,” Langan said, nodding toward Casey as she made her toward you both. “Sounds like it might be a lost cause.”

You shook your head, leaning into Casey as she placed her hand on the small of your back. “Nothing’s a lost cause with Casey. Right, honey? I was telling Trevor about that case you’re working on.”

Casey seemed to grow stiff beside you. “The serial rape case?” she asked, and you had to look at her face to confirm what you were hearing. She looked… angry? Scared? You couldn’t quite tell, but it was some flavor of upset. Maybe she was still worried about the case…

“Yeah,” you confirmed, hoping to lift her spirits with a little optimism. “You know, about how hard it is right now because the judge threw out the DNA, but that you’ve got it because you always do.”

She gripped your hand tightly, so tightly it almost hurt, and glared at Langan. “That’s fucking low, Langan. Even for you.”

“Just business, Casey,” he said, holding up his hands in defense.

You felt so deeply confused. Something had gone terribly awry in this conversation. Maybe Casey and Trevor Langan weren’t friends after all?

“You’re an asshole,” she spat at him. “She doesn’t know any better.”

Okay, so they were talking about you. Your mind raced back through the conversation, trying to figure out if you’d said something wrong.

“Yeah, honestly, Novak, I wouldn’t have put you two together,” Langan observed. “I don’t know that she’s quite in your league. You know, mentally.”

You blushed furiously. You got the jab on that one, or at least the implications of it. That you didn’t deserve Casey. Which might be true, but it still hurt for someone else, someone who barely knew you, to see it and say it.

For her part, Casey looked like she might clock Langan with a strong right hook. “Well, she’s way out of yours.”

And with that, Casey pulled you away, out into the brisk, New York spring night. You tried to catch her eye as she hailed a taxi, but she wouldn’t look at you. You were growing increasingly anxious. You’d fucked up somehow. You knew it. You could tell. And you must have fucked up badly or Casey wouldn’t be this mad.

She was quiet on the way home, fuming. And she didn’t hold your hand. She always held your hand. Your stims got more anxious, more obvious, along the ride. You wanted to ask her what was wrong. Wanted her to tell you what it was you’d done to mess everything up, but you were afraid to ask in front of the taxi driver.

You opened your mouth to ask as soon as the door to the apartment shut behind you, but Casey was faster. She was angry. Her face was red. And she was nearly crying. Casey never cried.

“Why the fuck would you tell Langan about that case, Y/N?!” she yelled, furiously kicking her heels off.

You felt your heart drop, panic run up your spine like ice. “I– I was just trying to talk about lawyer stuff.”

“Not that stuff! Case details!? Babe… this is just common sense!”

Your heart felt like it was being suffocated. Your voice was shaky and weak. “H-he said he knew you, that you went way back.”

Casey laughed and pressed her hands to her face. “Oh, yeah. We sure do. Way back.”

You were trying so hard to get what she was saying, but your brain wouldn’t quite make the connection. “I… I don’t understand, Casey.”

A tear streaked down her cheek. “Of course you don’t understand!” she railed. “You never understand!” She sat down heavily, rubbing her forehead. “He’s the fucking rapist’s defense attorney, Y/N! And now he knows we’ve got nothing!”

You felt like you’d been slapped in the face. In fact, you almost would have preferred Casey actually slap you in the face. Tears filled your eyes, and you knew you were about to lose it. Casey had been mad at you before, but not like this. And you knew you didn’t understand a lot of things. You didn’t catch social nuance. It went right over your head. But to hear it from Casey… Casey who usually made you feel like there was nothing wrong with you. You’d ruined something. You’d ruined something important tonight. You felt guilty, but more than that you felt ashamed.

Your hands twitched by your side, and your breath came in huge, desperate gulps, and you knew you were on the verge of breaking down. And that last thing you wanted tonight was for your breakdown to be another fucking thing that Casey had to deal with. Another thing for her to fix. You’d already given her enough to fix tonight.

“Be right back,” you said, because it seemed like something normal to say, and you didn’t want to just exit. You walked quickly to the bathroom and shut the door behind you, locking it.

You sat on the floor and curled yourself as tightly as you could into the corner where the wall and the shower met, pulling your feet to your chest. Suddenly, everything felt very tight, too tight, and you yanked off your tie and your suit jacket, unbuttoning your collar because you could barely fucking breathe right now. You held your head in your hands and rocked back and forth, trying and failing to regulate your breathing. You kept hearing Casey’s and Langan’s words in your head, as if they were on a constant loop, replaying in your mind’s eye: She doesn’t know any better. She’s not quite in your league. You don’t understand, you never understand!

You knew you were crying, but it wasn’t something you were in control of, just hot tears streaming down your face, just your heart beating so rapidly you didn’t know how to tell it to slow down. You’d fucked up. You’d fucked up so bad that you’d hurt Casey. Maybe you’d fucked up so bad that Casey wouldn’t even want to be with you anymore, and who could blame her? You didn’t even really want to be with you. Stupid, stupid, stupid…

You heard a soft knock on the door, but couldn’t bring yourself to acknowledge it, let alone open it.

“Y/N…” Casey called, voice muffled through the door and through your heartbeat pounding in your ears. “Will you open the door, honey?”

You couldn’t respond, didn’t want to respond, felt worse for Casey having to worry about you now. As if you hadn’t already given her enough to worry about tonight.

And your rocking back and forth, your absolute spiral, stopped only when you heard Casey’s voice crack, when you thought she might be crying. And your instinct to take care of her took over your instinct to wallow in self-loathing.

“Please, baby,” she begged. “I’m so sorry. Just let me in.”

You scrambled quickly to the door and unlocked it, then scrambled back to your corner, huddling protectively, your body literally shaking. You were scared, you realized. You didn’t like being scared of Casey. If anything, Casey should be scared of you, and how’d you’d mess things up for her. You buried your face in your hands as you heard the door creak open. You didn’t want to meet her eyes, terrified of what might be in them.

You heard Casey approach you, could feel the shift in the air around you as she sat down next to you, the rustle of her dress as she adjusted it.

You were so anxious that you were gripping tufts of your hair. You weren’t going to pull it out, but it gave you something to grab, at least.

“Y/N, honey, can you look at me?” she asked, and you could tell from how thick her voice was that she’d been crying.

You shook your head, still rocking back and forth.

She exhaled deeply, then continued. “Baby, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean what I said. You do understand, okay? You understand me. You understand when it matters. You didn’t do anything wrong tonight. It was a dick move by Langan.”

You still couldn’t bring yourself to look at Casey. You were suspicious of her. Casey always made sure you were okay. You could see her lying to you to try to make you feel better. You felt her brush a bit of hair out of your face and jerked away.

“Look, if anything, it’s my fault,” she continued. “I should have been clearer about what lawyer things to talk about or not.”

Now, this you couldn’t abide by. Casey making it her fault? No. You lifted your face, blotched red with tear stains and looked at her, and the way her makeup ran–clearly she’d been crying–it broke your heart.

“You shouldn’t have to fucking explain!” you cried. “That’s not fair to you, Case! I should just know, and I don’t because I’m fucking dumb!”

“Hey,” she said, her voice sharp as she grasped your face in both hands. “You are not dumb. You’re one of the smartest people I know.”

“Stop lying to me!” you pleaded, more tears dripping down your face.

“Look at me,” Casey said, her voice rough with emotion as she held your face even tighter. “There’s nothing wrong with you. You know what is wrong? That you have to act a certain way for all those people tonight to like you. That’s dumb.”

You tried to look away, but she only gripped you harder. Her voice broke and you wanted to cry even more, cry with her and for her.

“Honey, you are so smart,” she continued between gulps of breath. “And so kind. And you have such a special way of making people feel like they can be themselves. You know you make me feel more loved than anyone ever has? You remember everything about me, everything I say. And you listen and you notice things and you… you make me feel like I’m who I’m supposed to be.”

Your sobs had quieted a little, until you were just shaking now, hiccuping with the aftermath. “You are, Casey,” you choked out. “You’re perfect.”

“See that?” she said, smiling a little and wiping your face with her hands. “You are twice the person Trevor Langan is. You build people up, you don’t bring them down.”

You let Casey slide next to you, let her wrap her arm around you and rest her chin on the top of your head.

“I’m still so sorry,” you mumbled. “I fucked up your whole case.”

She sighed and chuckled. “Honestly, it was already fucked. And Langan would have found out sooner or later.”

You let out a shaky sigh and settled into Casey, your head tucked under her neck, ear pressed to her chest so you could hear her heartbeat drawing you back down from your spiral.”

She breathed evenly, running her hands gently through the short hairs at the back of your head.

After a few minutes, Casey kissed the top of your head and pressed her hand to the side of your face, holding you close to her chest. “I love you, you know that?”

You nodded, snaking your arms around her waist and burying your face in her neck. “I love you, too.”

[whiskey-tango-matcha]

Safe (M, cold)

Well, here I am.

It's been a few months since I've written anything in the Elliot's universe, but recently someone asked for a Mark-centric story, and this behemoth is what ensued. Allow me to preface by saying this: Mark is basically my self-insert. This was a very hard story to write. If it sucks, my apologies, hah.

In this, Mark gets sick from Matt and wants to hide it from Elijah. It is significantly more hurt/comfort-slash-sickfic than snzfic, honestly. It starts fairly benign, fluffy, and silly and gets really intense a few pages in. There's a lot of musing, a lot of being inside Mark's head. Idk. I'm not sure if I love it or hate it. This is the first story I've written on here that has taken me a full week to get down, and that I've written and scrapped multiple scenes. It is very long. I really hope you enjoy it if you read it. I'd love to hear your thoughts, but also understand if it's just too long-winded for people to read. Also, there's a real chance of spelling/grammar errors because I just can't look at this monster of a fic any longer, ha.

Anyway. Onward.

CW: Male snz, illness, coughing, contagion. 6K words (almost exactly)

Safe

“Don’t go near them.”

It’s the first thing that hit his ears as he pushed through the swinging kitchen doors; no ‘hi, Mark,’ no, ‘good morning’, just a barked order with absolutely zero context thrown in. Mark whipped his head in the direction of the stern voice of his boss.

“Good morning to you, too,” he muttered, making his way towards the office, where Elijah was stationed, seated, but not doing any computer work. “Who and what are we avoiding?” he asked as he entered.

“The chefs,” Elijah said, moving his chair to let the younger manager in to sit. Mark placed his backpack on the ground, tossed his coat over top of Greyson’s on the second office chair. Waited for further explanation that did not come.

“Okay…” he said, sitting beside his boss. “And we’re not going near them because…?” Mark hadn’t even seen Greyson or Matt yet this morning. The avoiding was being done for him, so what was Elijah’s deal?

Elijah hummed a low disapproval – of what, Mark couldn’t guess – and turned towards his computer. “You’ll see,” he said, shaking his mouse and pulling up an order guide. “Just don’t breathe your boyfriend’s breath, okay?”

Mark colored at the implication; it had only been a couple of months since Matt and Mark had been outed to the restaurant, and the floor manager still wasn’t used to their relationship being casually dropped into conversation. While Elijah busied himself with admin work, Mark stood – time to figure out what the fuck Elijah was on about.

You would think that finding chefs in a kitchen would be a relatively banal business; they’re chefs. They’re cooking. Hardly a moving target – but you’d be wrong. Somehow, the second a front of house manager starts looking for a chef, they become a ghost. They haven’t existed for a thousand years – are you sure this restaurant even has a chef? Mark couldn’t help but ponder how the fuck this hundred-square-foot kitchen somehow became a labyrinthian nightmare the second he wanted to find his boyfriend and his boyfriend’s boss; c’mon, he’d checked the walk-in, the back kitchen, even the dock to see if they were smoking, where the fuck were they?

Maybe Elijah had told the two of them to stay away from Mark and the front of house staff before the floor manager arrived, and they were playing a cat-and-mouse style keep-away game that Mark was unaware of. Or maybe they had gone to the store to pick up chicken or some shit. Either way, Mark was done looking. Elijah said don’t go near them, he thought to himself, heading back towards the front of the kitchen, easy enough.

Of course, it was the moment that Mark decided he was done looking that he quite literally bumped into his boyfriend coming through the kitchen doors.

“Oof,” Matt grunted as they collided. Greyson, not even a step behind him, turned their two-person bump into a three-car-pileup that nearly ended in hot coffee being spilled over all of them.

“Christ, Chef, watch where you’re going,” Matt muttered untangling himself from the middle of the pack.

“Mbe watch where I’mb going?” Greyson asked, wiping his coffee-covered hand on his chef’s pants. “The two of you are practically grinding on each other here and I ndeed to watch where I’mb going?”

Mark clocked it in the chef’s voice immediately – oh. That’s what Elijah meant.

But… he had said both of them… right?

Mark’s head shot up from checking to make sure he didn’t have coffee all over his button-down to look Matt directly in the face – ah. Fuck.

“Hh-! Hh’ITSHZH-ue! HRTSHH-ue!” Matt collapsed to the side to sneeze, seemingly in lieu of responding to Greyson’s dig. “Snf. Fuck off, Chef.” There it was.

“Bless you,” Mark said, attempting not to sound accusatory. Matt just nodded.

“Yeah,” he said, rubbing his nose on the back of his hand. “Sorry.”

Before Mark could respond to the unnecessary apology, Elijah’s voice rang out once again from the office. “Mark, I told you to stay away from them!” The GM stood from his desk chair and strode into the kitchen, physically pushing Mark and Matt away from one another. “Six foot distance,” he said, pointing at both of them. “And you,” he said, addressing his counterpart, “didn’t I tell you to go get some tea and sit the fuck down? We have a big night tonight and I need you conscious, please.”

Greyson rolled his eyes and held up his cup. “I was on mby way to sit when the children starting gyrating on each other in the mbiddle of mby kithcen,” he said. “Don’t put this one on mbe.”

Elijah squeezed the bridge of his nose, frustrated. “First of all,” he said, moving towards Greyson and plucking the cup from his hand, “that isn’t tea.”

“The tea we buy is gross,” Greyson whined. “And I’mb ti – hh! Hh...hhuh-ETSHZH-ue! Snrf, fuck.” Greyson took a moment to collect himself, to wipe his nose on his sleeve and cough – a wet, concerning sound – before finishing his sentence. “I’mb tired,” he said, snatching the cup back.

“Which is why I told you to go sit down,” Elijah said, pressing his palms together and accentuating each word with his hands. “And please do not get my front of house manager sick. I beg, Greyson.”

“Talk to him,” Greyson said, thumbing towards Matt. “I’mb ndot the one with my tongue in Mark’s mbouth twenty-four-seven.”

Mark’s face flamed once again, but Matt, either too sick to care or beyond the embarrassment that was a public relationship in the work place, just rolled his eyes.

“Jealous, much?” Matt asked under his breath. Greyson shot daggers with a glance at his sous, and Mark decided it was probably time to step in.

“Listen, how about I go grab the two of you some medicine from down the street, you both take a rest, and then by the time the meds have kicked in, everyone should be good for service.” Mark looked to Elijah for his blessing; his boss was obviously mulling it over, considering. “And this way, I’ll be out of the metaphorical splash zone,” he finished, which finally prompted a nod from Elijah.

“Okay,” his boss said. “Good idea, Mark. You two – come with me.”

The GM led the two chefs back into the dining room to lay in the back booth while Mark let out a sigh. He was happy, of course, to be out of the fight, to have seemingly calmed everyone down, and to have put his boss’s mind at ease.

Unfortunately, he was fairly sure that – despite Elijah’s eased mind – it was already too late for keeping himself away from the newest restaurant pestilence.

***

“Elijah is going to kill me, Matt.”

“Oh, please, he is ndo – ITSZCHH-ue! ndot,” Matt said, swiping the bottle of Dayquil from Mark’s hand and chugging it. “You gonna sit?” he asked, sniffling and patting the milk crate beside him and shivering. Mark sighed.

“I’m not gonna sit, because Elijah is going to kill me even more if he sees me sitting right next to you.”

“I’mb gonna go out on a limb here and say that’s ndot possible,” Matt said, dissolving at the end of his sentence into a chesty cough.

“You’re coughing now, too?” Mark asked, worry about Elijah’s anger usurped very suddenly by concern for his boyfriend. Mark placed a hand to Matt’s head. “Oh, honey.”

“Sorry,” Matt said, not bothering to move Mark’s hand. Mark huffed out a little laugh.

“Don’t apologize for being sick. Please,” he said, moving his hand to cup Matt’s cheek. “Even if Elijah might kill us both.”

Matt smiled, pressed his face harder into Mark’s hand. “You might ndot get sick. You ndever know,” he muttered, eyes closing as Mark held his head up.

“Matt,” Mark laughed, “I mean… I don’t think that’s, uh, possible after last night.” Matt’s eyes blinked open at the mention of it, and a little smile flitted across his lips.

The apartment had been quiet.

“Matt?” Mark called as he stepped inside. “Babe, are you home?”

He strained his ears; the shower was on. Mark had an idea.

He tiptoed across the cold apartment floor, quietly stripping as he went; by the time he got to the bathroom door, he was nude as the day he was born. The bathroom door wasn’t closed all the way, so he pushed inside silently and pulled back the curtain.

A fact about Matt that shocked Mark more than anything was that the man did not get scared. He had yawned through their first haunted house together; he fell asleep during the Terrifier movies, for Christ’s sake. So Mark was unsurprised when, instead of screaming bloody murder the way he would’ve if Matt snuck up on his in the shower, his boyfriend simply turned away from the spray and smiled.

“You’re early,” he murmured, ushering Mark in.

“I came right from the gym,” Mark said, wrapping his arms around the shorter man. “I wanted to see you.”

“Mmmm,” Matt hummed, pressing himself into Mark’s arms. “That’s nice, baby.”

They stood that way for a few minutes, until Mark tipped Matt’s chin up towards his face. “I wanted to see you,” he said, pressing his lips onto Matt’s neck, “but I also wanted to… do things. With you.”

Matt’s breath caught in the back of his throat. “Yeah?” he asked, voice low. “Like what?”

Mark stood back to his full height, and pushed Matt against the shower wall. “Let me show you.”

“Fair enough,” Matt said now, lifting his head. “But, I mbean, are you feeling okay right ndow?”

He was, for the moment. But, Matt had seemed alright last night, and clearly he’d already been on the trajectory towards ill – despite that fact that he had been very good at hiding it. Whatever he and his boss had picked up was certainly quick to come on.

“I’m fine, baby, don’t worry about me,” Mark said, rummaging through the drug store bag to hand Matt, who’d fallen into another paroxysm of coughing, the Robitussin. “I’m more worried about you than anything.”

Matt snapped the top off and chugged this medicine as well, seemingly without any concern about mixing two medications. “Babe, it’ll be fine. I kndow Elijah is worried about getting through the weekend, but it’s ndot like any of us haven’t worked with a cold before.” He shrugged then, handed Mark the medicine, and stood. Mark stood as well, and once again cupped Matt’s hot face – this time with both hands.

“Please just take it a little bit easy tonight, okay?” Mark said. “I know Greyson is sick, too, but don’t try to do too much. We don’t need another moment like a few months ago.”

“And to think I’d just forgotten about that,” Matt said, going on tiptoe to kiss his boyfriend. “I’ll be okay.” Mark kissed him back, a little longer than was maybe necessary; long enough that neither of them heard the back door open until it was too late.

“Mark, what the fuck are you doing?”

Oh, fuck.

Elijah.

***

By the end of the night, Greyson and Matt were shadows of their former selves.

“Hh-! Hhhuh… hhNGTSHH-ue! HRTSHH! ETSZCH-ue! Fuuuck mbe,” Greyson muttered as he wrenched into the sleeve of his hoodie – chef coats had been abandoned about an hour into service, when both he and Matt started shivering hard enough to fuck up the plating on more than half the dishes – for the millionth time that night. He attempted to clear his throat, prompting a flurry of congested coughs.

Behind him, Matt was sitting on the cold, industrial kitchen ground, head between his knees. “I’mb gonna pass out, I just kndow I am.”

“Don’t fuckigg pass out,” Greyson growled, pulling his sous to his feet. “You ndeed to get your blood mboving, you gotta stand up. Idiot.”

The two of them, bickering and sneezing in near-unison by the pass, had captivated the attention of both front of house managers, who had turned away from their computer work to watch the mess unfold.

“Hope you like what you see,” Elijah said, finally. “Because that’s gonna be you tomorrow.”

Behind his boss’s back, Mark rolled his eyes. “Boss, I’m fine. I don’t feel sick at all, trust me, I’m going to be okay.” It was mostly true; he’d sneezed a few more times today than was normal for him, yes. And he was a little tired – no more than usual, surely. The rawness in the back of his throat was easily ignored with huge gulps of water. He was fine.

“Mmm,” Elijah said, swinging his chair around to look the younger man in the eye, “sure. Whatever you say, Mark; just remember, if you look even close to how bad Matt does tonight, you’re off the floor. And I mean off the floor until you return to normal. A cold is one thing; whatever these two have is entirely another. Understood?”

Mark swallowed around his burgeoning sore throat; off the floor. Off the floor didn’t mean relegated to busywork behind the scenes; it meant sent home. Being sent home meant days without a backup manager to help Elijah on the floor, and no one to help on the floor meant Elijah would realize there was a gap in their team. A gap in management. Mark had been the only floor manager in all the years Elliot’s had been open; Elijah had mentioned a few times that maybe they should hire another person, someone to cover if both Mark and Elijah couldn’t come in, but Mark had been vehemently against it. Elijah couldn’t hire another manager, because if he did, he’d see how truly unqualified Mark had been for his position all this time. Once he saw how unqualified he was, he’d be out on his ass. No job, no money… no second family. No place he truly belonged.

Mark’s face flushed, and he cast his eyes towards the floor. “Yes, boss,” he said. “I understand.”

“Good,” Elijah said, nodding. “Now, go collect your boyfriend and take him to bed.”

***

The first time Mark was sick while working at Elliot’s was well over a year into his tenure.

Elijah had regarded Mark with concern, clocking him as unwell the second he sat in the office. “You don’t look well,” he said. “Are you feeling okay?”

Mark’s face had flushed, embarrassed; not getting sick for over a year working front of house was honestly a feat of accomplishment in the restaurant industry, but he still felt guilty for coming down with something, despite its inevitability. He shrugged, an attempt at playing it cool.

“I’mb okay, boss,” Mark croaked. “Just a cold.”

Elijah nodded slowly. “Are you sure it’s just a cold? You feel okay to work?”

Mark raised an eyebrow, confused. Did he look that unwell? “I mbean… yeah?” he said, rubbing his nose with the back of his hand. “Why?”

“Well,” Elijah said, opening a drawer and pulling out cold medicine, along with a small bag that looked like it could’ve come from his mother’s medicine cabinet. “A cold, we can work with.”

The GM explained to him, then, that there were marked differences between the front of house cold, and the back of house cold. “You’ve seen Greyson sick at work a dozen times,” Elijah said, passing Mark a cup full of pills and a water bottle. “Right?”

“Sure,” Mark said, swallowing the pills around a painfully sore throat. “It’s ndot like he’s hiding it.”

“Right. Right,” Elijah said, popping open a stick that looked like – was that concealer? “The chefs, the cooks – they don’t have to hide anything. Us, though? No one wants to be served soup by someone with a stuffy nose. We all get the same shit, but only they’re allowed to look like shit.” He dabbed the concealer under Mark’s eyes, used an expert finger to blend it into his skin. “That’s the industry for you.”

“Are you… putting makeup on mbe?” Mark asked, laughing a bit.

“Sure am,” Elijah said. “A little concealer goes a long way in this profession, Mark. Concealer, and enough meds to tranquilize an elephant.” His boss closed the little concealer pen, put the medicine and makeup away. “I want you on the floor, but I want you to look… alive.” Elijah shut the drawer, shrugged. “Let me know if you start feeling really shitty. Otherwise? Come to the back to blow your nose, and feel free to help yourself to whatever you want in here.”

Mark blinked, a little confused, but grateful for the advice. Elijah seemed… almost fatherly, like this, and he could feel embarrassing tears welling in his eyes at this, the smallest gesture of being cared for. Mark looked down, cleared his throat. “Uh… okay, boss. Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it,” Elijah said, patting Mark’s knee. “We’ve gotta take care of each other in this hell hole of an industry, y’know?”

Mark couldn’t look up. The thought of his boss seeing him cry was entirely too much for him to handle. “Right,” he whispered. “Right.”

***

The hardest part of hiding an illness, Mark knew from experience, was speaking.

Putting on makeup and looking like a human instead of a corpse? Easy. He’d learned how to apply concealer so it didn’t look like he was in drag – just enough that in the dim lighting of the restaurant you couldn’t tell if those were dark circles or shadows. He’d learned if you added a tiny bit of blush to your cheeks, no one noticed that your nose was also red, and he’d figured out the hard way that there was never a world in which he needed eyeliner, even if it made his eyes look less bloodshot.

He always dressed immaculately when he wasn’t feeling well; extra-crisp button down, sport coat, his expensive Ray Ban glasses, not the cheapos from Zenni he usually donned. Mark shined his shoes the second he felt a tickle in his throat, broke out the cuff links if he suddenly sneezed more than thrice in a row. He’d been trained well by Elijah to hide the visual cues of any oncoming malady.

Hiding how he really felt came even more naturally; he’d been practicing that since childhood. Complaining wasn’t in his nature, or had maybe been stamped out entirely at some point – either way, Mark could be actively passing out, unable to breathe, coughing so hard he couldn’t form a sentence, and he wouldn’t even mention it. Of course, he’d been sent home from work for being ill before, but never once had he chosen to go. Even the thought of saying ‘I’m sick’ made him dizzy with unease. You need to work through that in therapy, Matt had said to him multiple times, and he knew it was true, but it was also helpful. In this industry, admitting defeat was akin to admitting you sucked at your job.

The voice, though? That was always what gave him away. No matter how much medicine he took, he could always hear the rasp that overtook his voice immediately. His m’s and n’s turned to rounded shadows of their former selves even if he blew his nose every five minutes. His timbre lowered considerably, to the point that when Matt first saw him sick he asked how it felt to be able to do a perfect Johnny Cash, but only when he felt like shit. It was a problem, but Mark was a pretty quiet guy in general. If he was quieter than usual, usually no one was the wiser.

That’s what he hoped – that his boss would be none the wiser – as he dressed in his perfectly-tailored suit that morning, stifling sneeze after painful sneeze into handfuls of tissue all the while. Just don’t talk, he thought as he dotted Maybeline under his eyes. No one has to know.

Of course, not talking was a bit… difficult when his boss was around. “Good morning,” Elijah called to Mark as he buzzed through the kitchen, trying to make his way into the dining room without having to make small talk. Dammit. Mark stopped, begrudgingly, and nodded at his boss, who raised both eyebrows at the younger manager’s outfit choice. “Is there an event tonight I’ve forgotten?”

Mark shook his head, straightened his tie. “Just felt like dressing up,” he said, tactfully avoiding words with too many nasal letters. “How’re you, boss?”

“I’m well,” Elijah said, pointedly. He patted the empty chair next to him, prompting Mark to sit; don’t let him get a good look at you, a voice in Mark’s head chastised. Don’t get taken off the floor. “Greyson’s not coming in till three, if you want to do your preshift report in here today.”

“That’s okay,” Mark said. “I like the dining roomb.” Fuck.

Elijah cocked his head to the side, but didn’t mention Mark’s voice. “How’s Matt feeling?” he asked, another pointed question.

“He’s okay – a little better. Said he’d be here at four.” Mark patted himself on the back for maneuvering around any pesky m’s or n’s that time. Elijah nodded slowly.

“Glad to hear it,” Elijah said, standing. The younger manager was several inches taller than his boss, but Elijah was still able to look him fairly closely in the eye. Once again, one word rattled around in Mark’s head: fuck. “How are you feeling?”

Mark allowed a smile to form on his rapidly-chapping lips. “Good, boss. Ready to work,” he said simply. God, he needed to clear his throat. And more than that, he really, really needed to blow his nose.

Elijah nodded. “Alright,” he said, apparently placated. “Go ahead, then.”

“Thanks, boss,” Mark said, stepping out of the office doorway and pushing through the swinging kitchen doors before Elijah could say anything else. He’d made it through the first test, somehow. Just in time, too, he thought, making a beeline towards the bathroom. Because I really fucking need to -

“NTSHH!” Mark stifled a near-silent sneeze into his wrist as he yanked open the guest bathroom door. Finally, locked in the bathroom alone, he allowed himself to be as disgusting, as sick as he really was.

“Hhuh -! Hh- ETZSCH-ue! HRRSHH-ue! Huh… hh’RRSHH-ue!” Mark collapsed in on himself, scrambling to collect a handful of tissues so he wouldn’t ruin the sleeve of his suit. He blew his nose as thoroughly as he could – not that it made any difference, he was still stuffed up to the gills. A pathetic little cough escaped his lungs, prompting another tickle in his sinuses. “HUHTTSCHH-ue!”

Shut up, shut up, shut up, he chastised himself, blowing his nose again. He’s going to fucking hear you.

He waited a moment or two to see if Elijah would push through the door – he didn’t – before sitting fully clothed on the toilet and pulling out his phone.

11:56AM

Mark

what is this, the fucking plague?

Almost immediately, Matt texted back.

11:57AM Matt

o shit, did we get you already? baby im so sorry. u shouldve told me u weren’t feeling good last night u couldve stayed over

11:57AM Mark

not your fault. and I’m ok, just trying to avoid Elijah, he’s gonna be so pissed.

11:59AM

Matt

omfg he’ll get over it. its not like someone in that restaurant isnt sick every other week

Mark sighed, his lungs crackling at the effort. Matt was right; someone was almost always sick at Elliot’s, that was the way of things in this industry. They all shared drinks, they worked in close quarters, it was bound to happen. This was less about the illness itself – of course he’d been sick at work before, who hadn’t? - and more about the look he knew he’d see on Elijah’s face when he’d finally have to crack. He’d gone directly against his boss’s orders, had put his job and the restaurant second to his baser desires. That’s no way to get ahead in this world, his dad’s voice bellowed from the base of his brain. Mark shuddered; he wasn’t sure he’d be able to face Elijah’s look of pure disappointment. He wasn’t sure he had it in him.

Slipping his phone into his pocket, Mark stood and washed his hands. He took an inventory of his face in the mirror – eye bags poorly covered by drugstore makeup, his nose raw and red, his mouth slightly open to allow him to breathe – and realized how truly awful he looked. Was there even a chance that Elijah didn’t know he was sick? Doubtful, his dad’s voice muttered.

You have to just try, another voice in his head pleaded. Just push through, you know how to push through. You’ve done it a million times before. He doesn’t have to know.

That voice, Mark knew, was delusional – a child’s gnawing plea to be accepted, to not get in trouble, to not be thought of as a burden – but he knew that sometimes you had to be delusional, had to listen to the saddest, smallest part of yourself to get through a day. He pulled his phone back out before leaving the bathroom.

12:04PM

Mark

just please don’t say anything to Elijah when you get here, ok? I’m fine, I promise. its honestly probably just in my head, it’s probably nothing so just don’t say anything. see u soon.

Pathetic, his dad’s voice spat, and Mark knew the voice was right. But that was nothing new, nothing to dwell on; he’d always been pathetic. Mark switched off his phone then, not wanting to be comforted by his boyfriend, and stepped onto the floor.

***

“Mark,” Matt said, reaching up to touch the front of house manager’s forehead, “you really need to go.”

Mark pulled away before Matt could touch him, though not by choice. “HRRSHH-uhh! Hh-! HhNTZSHH-ue! Snrrf. Leave mbe alone.”

Matt’s hand recoiled at the ice in his boyfriend’s voice, obviously hurt. Normally, Mark would’ve nearly fallen to his knees at the thought of hurting Matt’s feelings, but today, with the cold from hell progressing quicker than he ever could’ve anticipated, he couldn’t even find it in himself to apologize. Obviously he needed to go, but that would mean admitting to illness; it would mean begin taken off the floor until god-knows-when. It would mean Elijah replacing him.

No. He wasn’t about to go.

“Honey,” Matt said carefully, touching Mark’s hand across the expo board, “I’mb sure Elijah would understand. It’s a slow ndight, he already sent Greyson back home. What are you trying to prove?”

Of course, Matt was right; last night’s crazy shift was in stark contrast to this evening’s steady pace. There were hardly twenty more covers for the evening, and yes, even Greyson had admitted defeat and slunk out right at six p.m., in a fevered haze. The only reason Matt was still here was because his fever had broken this morning and, despite the lingering cough and stuffy nose, he was clearly feeling better. Good enough, even, to have gone behind Mark’s back and talked to Elijah.

“Matt told me,” Elijah had cornered him right before preshift started, in the back server station while everyone else ate family meal. Mark felt his stomach sink. Fucking Matt, he thought, clearing his throat to address his boss in the most normal voice he could muster.

“Told you what?” he asked, straightening his tie. Elijah gave the younger manager a knowing look.

“You don’t look like you feel well, Mark,” he said, obviously trying a different tactic. This time, Mark’s stomach knotted; he felt, for a moment, like a little kid, wanting to fall to the ground in front of his mommy and just allow himself to be comforted. He thought for a fleeting moment of how good it would feel to just admit it; I’m sick, he would say, if he were a normal fucking person, I want to go to bed.

Instead, Mark shook his head. “I don’t kndow what Matt told you, but he doesn’t kndow what he talking about,” he managed, his voice cutting out only once. “I’mb fine.”

Elijah sighed. “Mark, listen, I know I was an asshole yesterday -”

“Boss,” Mark cut Elijah off. “Please. I’mb okay. Just please, let mbe work.”

He’d walked away then, hadn’t let Elijah say whatever it was he wanted to say, and had avoided Matt as well as he could throughout service. Now, mid-shift, when all the cooks and servers were side-eyeing them from he expo board, was not the time to hash this out.

“I’mb ndot trying to prove anything, Matt,” Mark said now, grabbing two plates from the window. “Just stay out of mby business. What table?”

Matt bit his cheek, peaked at the chit. “Please don’t be mbad,” he said, voice quiet. Mark prickled; he couldn’t help it. He was mad. He’d asked one stupid thing of Matt, and now here he was, career in trouble, embarrassed in front of both of their staffs, and once again gearing up for another painful -

“HTTSHH-ue! God, fugck,” Mark swore, ducking expertly away from the plates he was holding. He sucked in through his nose hard enough to make himself dizzy, and looked back at Matt. “What table, Chef?” he asked, pointedly. Matt winced.

“Thirty-three,” he said finally. Mark nodded.

“Great. Thangks.” He turned on his heels and pushed out the kitchen doors.

***

Before it happened, Mark found himself thinking exactly what his boyfriend was moaning the night previous: I’m gonna pass out, I know I am.

The only difference was, Mark was correct.

He’d been feeling shittier and shittier as the night went on. It began with spells of dizziness that came anytime he moved his head too fast, then moved on to an ache in his chest every time he coughed. A cold is one thing, he remembered Elijah saying the night previous. Whatever they have is entirely something else.

Elijah the prophet.

He kept pushing through. Plate after plate came out of the kitchen on his aching arms; he shook drinks while coughing into his shoulder, and sniffled his way through seating guests. Mark could feel Elijah’s eyes on him, though his boss refused to speak to him throughout the shift. I’ll show him, his fever-addled mind kept saying. I can do this. I’m fine.

It wasn’t until the last table had sat that his body well and truly told him he’d had enough. Mark was seeing stars when he grabbed a filet and swordfish, and once again he ignored it. He ignored the room swimming before him as he pushed out of the kitchen. He ignored the sway in his step.

“Shit, Mark!” was the last thing he heard, standing in the middle of the dining room with hot plates in each of his hands. There was no way to tell who said it – Elijah? Matt? – but it didn’t really matter, because before he could respond, his vision became a tiny pinkprick, his knees buckled, and the lights went out.

***

When the world came back into focus, he had somehow teleported into his bed.

At first, Mark tried desperately to get up; he’d fallen in the middle of the restaurant, that he unfortunately remembered immediately. There had been people around, guests watching, and he immediately felt his face flame with embarrassment. Oh, Elijah is going to kill me.

That was when he realized he was no longer in the restaurant. Mark placed a hand over an aching eye; was it all a dream? He looked down – no, it couldn’t be. He was still in his tailored suit, the tie and ciff links missing, but otherwise dressed to the nines.

“Whoa there, kid,” a familiar voice came from the doorway. “Go ahead and lie back down.”

Mark blearily glanced towards the voice. There, just outside his bedroom, stood Elijah, a steaming cup in one hand and a thermometer in the other. Fuck.

“Shit, Elijah, I’mb so sorry I ca – HTSHH-ue! HRRSHH-ue! Fuck, ’scuse mbe,” Mark, any facade of health finally washed away, used his expensive suit jacket to wipe his nose. Elijah glided across the small room and sat on the foot of the bed, handing the younger man the cup. Tea.

“Save your breath,” Elijah said. “You already apologized about a hundred times at the restaurant.”

He had? Mark gave Elijah a confused look, and sat back on the pillows behind him. He hadn’t even realized he’d come to at the restaurant at all.

“Mmhmm,” Elijah said, nodding. “To me. To Matt. To the guests. To the EMTs. I would think you’d be apologized out.”

EMTs? Mark cringed; as if he hadn’t been embarrassed enough. He wanted to ask, but at the same time he figured it was probably better that he didn’t remember. Small mercies, he thought.

“Lij,” Mark croaked, taking a sip of the tea, “I really amb… sorry. I mbean, I can’t imagine how mbuch I embarrassed you. Thangk you for bringing mbe home… I understand if you can’t…let mbe, uh. Work there. Anymore.”

Mark, destroyed by fever, and aches, and what was probably some sort of bronchitis-sinus-infection super-fucking-hybrid, couldn’t help but let the angry, ashamed tears fall as he said it. Matt wasn’t here, which most likely meant he was out both a boyfriend and a job. You fucking idiot. You stupid, fucking idiot, how dumb could you -

Elijah broke through the screaming in his head – he took Mark’s arms in his hands, placed his cup on the side table, and pulled him in for a hug. “Mark,” his boss said, “you really had us worried.” He pulled the younger manager back, concern painted on his face. “Of course you aren’t fired, I don’t know why you’d think that of me,” he said, a moment so raw that Mark felt like he’d been sucker-punched. “You should’ve just told me you were so sick. So you could go and rest. I would’ve even let Matt go with you.” Elijah patted his knee then, and handed Mark back the mug. “It’s just a restaurant, Mark. You’re more important than service.”

Mark felt his eyes well up once again. Had anyone ever told him he was worth more than the work he did? He wasn’t sure. He wasn’t sure, and that felt like an even harder gut-punch.

“I just…” he managed, wiping beneath his eyes. “I just didn’t wandt you to replace mbe. I’mb sorry for letting Mbatt get mbe sick.”

At this, Elijah actually laughed. “Mark,” he said, “you’re young. You’re in love; it comes with the territory. I was annoyed because Greyson and Matt are constantly getting everyone in that restaurant sick. I wasn’t trying to attack you.” He smiled then, a small and slightly sad smile. “I’m sorry if that’s how to came off.”

Mark didn’t know what to say; he felt awful, like he’d been hit by a semi, and he just wanted to sleep. See Matt. Apologize for being a dick. And sleep.

“Is Mbatt mad at mbe?” he croaked, pulling his legs into his chest. This time, Elijah actually laughed.

“I don’t think Matt knows how to be mad at you,” he said. “He’s just closing up the line; he was actually the one who brought you back here, but you were racked out so I said I’d come keep an eye on you till he got back.” Elijah shrugged, gave a little knowing smile. “He’ll be back soon. Okay? We don’t have to talk any more about this now. Just… try to sleep.” He patted Mark’s shoulder; a fatherly gesture from a man who claimed to know nothing about being a parent. “I’ll call Matt.”

Finally, finally, Mark conceded. He wanted to thank Elijah, or maybe apologize again, but he couldn’t make his mouth form words. Instead, he just nodded, grateful, and sank back into his pillow. He felt his eyes close, and allowed himself, for once, to let someone else take care of him.

He knew, maybe for the first time in his life, that he was safe.

[dean-winchester-is-a-warrior]

Shh! Pt. 1

Summary: Y/N and Dean have been overserved...what truths may come from it? Shh! Don't tell.

Pairing/Characters: Dean Winchester x Y/N

Warnings: None. All fluffy silliness. Little bit of crack. Drunk!Dean and Drunk!Reader. Some mutual pining (sort of).

Word Count: 1,379

A/N: Okay, so I'm trying really hard to catch up with my requests. Thank you all for your patience. This fun request came from a lovely anon:

omgomgomg can you please do the giggly smut space with a drunk!dean and reader?? i love your work sm!

This bingo square was already filled, but I said I'd try to write something fun for them anyway. So, I had lots of fun with the silly antics of these goofballs, hope you enjoy. ❤️

Edit: This little one shot has turned into a two part mini-series.

Series Master List || Main Master List || Tag List

“Shh!” Y/N hissed with her finger to her lips as she and Dean stumbled drunkenly through the bunker door. She tried to frown at her best friend and meant to scold him for his noisiness, but he was making a goofy face as he pretended to be tiptoeing towards the stairs and she just ended up giggling loudly.

“Shh!” Dean scolded her. 

“Me shush? You shush!” She said, laughing as she followed him down the stairs. As they neared the bottom, Y/N lost her footing in the grating on the steps and pitched forward. Dean turned to try and steady her, but it was too late and she knocked them both to the ground. 

Dean landed on his back and Y/N landed directly on top of him.

“Oof!” Dean grunted as his fall and Y/N's weight knocked the wind out of him. 

“Oh my god! Dean, I'm so sorry!” Y/N felt terrible, but her drunken mind couldn't stop laughing at the way they'd plummeted to the floor.

When he could breathe again Dean groaned and started laughing too.

“Shh!” He cautioned as he rolled Y/N beneath him. “You're gonna wake up Sam.” He said in a voice that he thought was a whisper. It wasn't.

Y/N nodded and then caught Dean's eye as her giggling subsided. For a moment their gazes connected as their laughter died away slowly, so that they were left pressed close together and staring at each other.

“You know, you're so pretty.” Dean said, his words slightly slurred. “I don't think you know that, you don't know that I think that. You are.”

Y/N shook her head. “No, YOU don't know. I told you so many times, Dean. I told you that time when there was the baseball bat, and then too, where when we were at the drive-in, and…” Y/N frowned and then shook her head. “I told you all of those times. And then more.”

Dean was nodding along with her words as though he knew what she was talking about but then he burst into laughter and Y/N joined him.

“What were we talking about?” He asked as he stood up and pulled Y/N to her feet. They leaned on each other for balance. 

Y/N shook her head. “I don't actually know.” She cackled, and then shushed herself. Dean joined her. 

“Shh!”

“Shh!” 

They were both holding a finger to their lips and giggling like idiots as Sam walked into the war room from the direction of his bedroom. 

“Shhh-ut up. Both of you.” He said, barefooted and scowling. He was wearing pajama bottoms and a dark blue t-shirt and had obviously been sleeping. 

He was also obviously very annoyed. He ran a tired hand over his cheeks. “It's three in the morning, you two. What the hell are you doing coming home at this hour?”

Y/N snorted and then covered her mouth. “Sorry!” She said when Sam's frown landed on her. “You just…my mom said that when I was like fifteen. You sounded like her, for a second.”

“It's the long hair.” Dean said in a stage whisper, making Sam roll his eyes and Y/N nearly fall over laughing. 

“Was your mom a really tall lady?” Dean asked as both of them fell onto each other again, and landed on their asses on the floor - the extreme hilarity taking them both out. 

“Oh, Jesus.” Sam said in sleepy irritation. “I'm going back to bed. Can you both shut up and just pass out on the floor?”

“Aye aye, Captain!” Dean called with salute and Y/N followed suit.

“Drunken idiots.” Sam mumbled lovingly as he padded back down the hallway to his bedroom.

Eventually Dean and Y/N stood each other up and then wandered down the other hallway towards Dean's room. When they got there, Y/N's eyes lit up when she saw Dean's vinyl collection.

“We have to play some Black Sabbath.”

She fumbled pulling the record out of its sleeve and almost dropped it. 

“Hey! Careful!” Dean protested as he took the precious vinyl out of her hands. 

In the end though, it took both of them to get the record on the turntable properly, and then all of their combined coordination to successfully put the needle down without scratching it. But soon Paranoid was blasting through Dean's room, and down the hallways to Sam's as well, where the youngest Winchester growled and slammed his pillow down tight over his ears.

As the song continued, Y/N grabbed Dean's hands and got him to share in a little drunken headbanging along with the wailing guitars, pounding drums and Ozzy’s slightly monotone voice. Eventually though, he let go so he could crash onto his bed. 

Y/N kept dancing, offbeat and slightly awkward. Dean watched her and smiled deeply.

“This is the other time!” He called over the music.

Y/N shook her head and turned down the volume a little. “What?”

“This is the other time.” Dean repeated.

“The other time of what?” Y/N asked, scrunching up her nose and furrowing her brow in that adorable way she had.

“The other time when you're so pretty and I'm telling you, but you're not listening.” Dean sighed, suddenly sad.

Y/N stumbled over to the bed and climbed up beside him. “Why’re you…what's wrong?” 

Dean shook his head. “No, you never listen to me when I'm trying to tell you. You don't get it.” His mouth dipped into a pout and Y/N was instantly contrite.

“Oh, I wanna listen to you. I do listen. You don't listen.”

Dean stared at her for a moment and then nodded resolutely. “We should write it down. Our things, our listening things. So we don't forget. Then we have to listen to both of ourselves.” Dean's eyes were wide, amazed by his incredible idea. 

Y/N nodded and wobbled over for pens and paper from his desk. She brought them back and slumped onto the bed, passing out the writing materials and grabbing two hardcover books from the bedside table. 

“For writing on.” She explained as she handed Dean a book.

“M’kay. Do you wanna go first?” Dean asked. “Cause…ladies? Y’know?”

But Y/N shook her head. “We could both go though.” She pointed at their separate pieces of paper. 

“Oh right!” Dean said as though finally figuring out her ever-so-complicated plan.

Then they both bent their heads to their task, but after only a few minutes, their pens stilled and their heads drooped towards each other and then banged together gently as they both fell into drunken oblivion.

Twenty minutes later Sam barged into Dean's room no longer able to take the screaming Black Sabbath. He immediately noticed that both of his drunken idiots were sound asleep and snoring, and he sighed, giving his head a shake. 

He took the needle off the record and shut off the record player before he walked quietly up to the bed and rolled his eyes indulgently as he saw Y/N with her head on Dean's shoulder and Dean with his head laying on top of her head.

They’re both gonna have such stuff necks in the morning. He thought.

He picked up the papers and books from their laps. He was about to throw the pages away but then he read them. His smile grew wider and wider as he read what they'd each written. 

Neither had actually finished, but they were both saying the same thing:

“Finally.” Sam whispered with an affectionate eye roll. “Friggin’ idiots.”

He took the papers and walked to the kitchen. Grabbing two strong magnets he posted the letters in plain sight where they couldn't be missed, even by two fools with raging hangovers, before he shut off the lights and went back to bed.

__

Part 2

Jensen RPF and Any/All Characters:

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Dean Fics Only:

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Any/All Fics Regardless of Character or Fandom:

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Everything Incl. Fan Edits:

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[cochineal-leviat]

Sweet Dreams, Stardust

Okay, so I have a lot of feelings about In Stars and Time. But let me say first, wow, this game irreversibly changed my brain network. For anyone who is considering buying this game, please do. I don't think I've had a story touch my heart and mind like this for a long time. And that goes without mentioning the stunning visuals and entertaining battle system. (Be careful, though, because this game handles heavy topics regarding mental health)

If you're still hung up on buying it but are curious, there is a free demo on Steam if you like to try.

Thank you, @insertdisc5, for this gem of a game. I will be turning it around in my head like a microwaveable gourmet meal for months to come.

Technically the illustration has no spoilers (unless you count Siffrin having a good nap as a spoiler). But I will be going into heavy spoiler territory under the keep reading since I need to get my thoughts on this game off my chest.

And a monochrome version because you know me, I can't help myself. Even in black and white art pieces, I will put in some colour.

And a very tiny Loop

Initially, I was going to do a piece with a theatre stage and the cast (Siffrin, Mirabelle, Isabeau, Odile, Bonnie and the head house maiden) taking a bow and finally leaving the spectacle to a life not controlled by a script and Wish Craft. But it was more fitting to put my feelings into creating a peaceful scene. Like, oof, I needed this very badly. I used sepia to make the painting warmer and added some more details like headcanons. The stars/colours might be remnants of Siffrin's transformation. Or maybe they were always there, but he never paid attention to it. Who knows.

I'm going to keep this brief. Otherwise, this post will take way too long.

I adore Siff's character. It's perfect for a game and narrative such as this. I saw a post not long ago on Tumblr going into depth about how their role as the rogue and not the hero works so well, so I won't linger on it for long. But how they would rather listen and fade into the background perfectly aligns with the player's experience of being the silent observer. (And the nodding off that changes into zoning out. It took me way too long to realise that small but essential narrative change) Oh, and the portrait change! It flew over my head until I was staring at the game menu. I was so confident Siffrin had a mischievous grin and not a frown. I always feel slightly surprised when the party asks for Siff's opinion or mentions that they have been too quiet. I felt Siffrin's excitement like my own when he got excited at finding clues to end the nightmare they were in. So I knew it would end up falling on their face because they were too excited. I just had this bad gut feeling the whole time during Act 4.

And oh boy, speaking off acts. I thought it would have been the standard 3. Boy, I was wrong. Whenever I felt I was nearing the end, I was thrown back at the start with more mysteries than answers. It made exploring the game intriguing since there is almost no information about it online (at the time of writing this post). There is the Discord, but I didn't know about it until I finished it.

This game has a lot of secrets, and I had a lot of fun uncovering them. The looping mechanic works so well in discovering little details and further leads. (even though my stubborn arse kept trying to do everything in the least amount of loops as possible. I thought the ending would be different if I exceeded a 100. My final number is 59. I am still not sure if I should be mad about it not being a rounded number like 60 or that I went over the 50 threshold)

However, it is a good thing that only some mysteries were solved. Like, what's up with colours in this world? Everyone sees in black and white, and the idea of shades and colours is only spoken of in scientific studies. They do exist and are not a part of the disaster that happened to Siffrin and their land. But there is definitely something mysterious about it. I adore how the dialogue reflects this, as the characters do not speak of shades or colours. Isabeau expresses surprise to see a streak of red colouring the sky in Act 6. It makes you think about how colour is perceived and how you describe it. (The lore inside this game is immaculate. I eat this shit up)

We never find out the name of the country north of Vanguard or what it was like. We can only infer that the beaches had black sand, with shells that shine like stars, high-reaching mountains, forests and plains. Which is vague and yet intriguing enough to make you wonder. It connected me to Siff and King because I also wanted to know. I was desperate to know. I needed to know. But in the end, we never will know because that is not the story's point. Siffrin even says in the game, that King should let go because he is hurting everyone and everything, including himself, in his desperation to preserve Vanguard. This is all the more ironic when Siff accidentally does the same with his family and the loops. I might gush more about what the country might be like and their technology in another post. This game makes me want to theorise. This is the first time I've wanted to write and post theories. ISAT fucked me up good.

Which, by the way, was genius. Siffrin and King are mirrors of each other. Siff does not have King's disastrous ambition, but their love/obsession will be the downfall of both of them. They have more than being each other's countrymen in common, and I imagine Siff despises that.

I love the fact King's question to Siffrin before the showdown was/could never be answered. Usually, in a game such as this, you must figure out how to solve everything, especially for the big bad. But that was never the goal. King is a delusional monster who will not stop before achieving his dream. He will raze everything to the ground and hurt many people because he must succeed. It is what he desires. Nay, the universe wills it. What a witless excuse that can easily be made into someone's truth. Especially to somebody who is driven mad with grief.

How King's character's done is so excellent. Because, at first, I wasn't scared of him at all. He was just the big bad, and I felt nothing much but the glory of victory when Siffrin outsmarted him by looping and making sure Mirabelle learned the shield spell that would protect the party from freezing in time. But each time you fight him, you get more frustrated until Siff figures that talking to him might be fruitful. It does, but unfortunately, you and Siffrin leave yourself emotionally and mentally vulnerable. King stops being a one-dimensional villain and changes into an actual person. Someone you can sympathise with and possibly mend peace with without fighting. You and Siffrin opened his heart for a kindred spirit and got hurt.

King stopped being a monster and became human. And while monsters are wretched, humans have intent behind their cruelty. I felt so betrayed, so angry, but most of all - terrified. I felt it when Siffrin spiralled when fighting King again after their actions caused such a catastrophic turn of events for Bonnie. Every time after that, the fight with King felt tense and nerve-wracking in a dreadful way. Because even victory could not soothe the dread I felt. (The track 'It's finally over" will forever haunt me. I already feel anxious whenever it cycles to that when I listen to the playlist)

He was not, however, the final villain, even though everything that happened was King's fault. You were always your greatest enemy (or Siffrin in this case, since you are supposed to be Siffrin). I never could have guessed that the whole reason why Siffrin could not escape the loops was because Siff accidentally wished to never let go of their friends. This reminds me of Modaka Magica, where (spoilers for the OG anime) Homura goes back in time so much that the universe ties itself around Modoka, making her a waiting egg whose wish and magic will be massive when she becomes a magical girl. The one thing Homura was trying to prevent.

(Siffrin and Homura are identical in that sense. Shy characters who are loyal to a fault but are rendered into something cold, bitter and cutting by their traumatic experiences. Only Siff has people who care about them and would do anything to save him, too, whereas Homura never lets go, making the world a worse place to live in. Yes, I did go into doomed Yuri. That anime lived in my mind rent-free in my mind for years)

The Head House-maiden not being the villain was also a great touch. I am used to the apparent antagonist turning out not to be the big bad and the trusted, friendly character ending up being the evil one. Twist villains no longer work when everyone expects them to be villains.

That was my biggest theory as I played. The second biggest being that Loop is someone who enjoys Siffrin's suffering. I am so glad that was also not the case. They are apathetic but not cruel. Never intentionally, anyway. They were like the player, urging Siffrin to go deeper into the mystery to solve it. Ultimately, I chose and made cold and cruel decisions simply because I wanted to see what would happen. So yeah, I warmed up to this cosmic star thing as the game went on and even started trusting them. Act 5 really is a punch in the gut. I am so sorry, Loop. Thank you for coming through in the end.

Oh man, this is so long, and I haven't even gone into the main cast. I will leave that for another post. They are such great characters, as are the people of Dormant and the House. (Don't think I don't see the wordplay in this game. Very clever)

Going into this game completely blind was the best experience I could have had. I felt anxious, happy and scared so severely that my neurons were rearranged. I don't know if there are more endings (aside from the obvious action of attacking Odile in the True(?) ending of the game), but I am taking a break from it to make art and write for this game before I dive back into despair-o-land.

Anywho, thank you for coming this far and reading my ramblings. Have a fantastic day or evening further! o(*'▽`*)ブ

[mingiswow]

Christmas in august | Lee Sangyeon

Pairing: Sangyeonx fem!reader

Words: ~3k

Genre: smut MDNI, pwp, fluff

Content Warning: smut obv, mentions of people using the boys for clout and fame, mentions of alcohol, not proofread, ig that’s all lol

Smut warning: fingering (f receiving), nipple play, piv, unprotected sex (don’t do that… fr), semi-public sex, slightly exhibitionism, choking, little spanking, Sangyeon is a little asshole but just for a little

⚠ If you’re under the age of 18 and/or don’t feel comfortable reading that type of content, I have a lot of other content here.

⚠ English is not my native language, so pardon me if there’s any mistake. And you can always tell me what’s wrong.

A/n: I am deceased. The first concept photos for the boyz’s photobook got my imagination running wild. Sangyeon is my bias and his back picture??? Oof 🥵🥵 anyways hope you enjoy my little Sangyeon mind rot

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You were doomed. For real.

You promised your friend you’d behave. You promised her that you wouldn’t get yourself involved in trouble or would fight with anyone at the party - her knowing that you don’t get along with some of her boyfriend’s friends’ girlfriends. It’s not your fault that some of them are as fake as your nails and were dating them for money and fame.

“I don’t care if they are or not social alpinists, yn” your friend, Minji, said. “They are still the boys’ girlfriends”

“So you agree they are social alpinists” she rolled her eyes but didn’t deny it.

She said all the things you shouldn’t do. Which you were not doing. But she never mentioned not eye-fucking Sangyeon.

Ever since Minji introduced you to Sunwoo you became as best friends as you and her, he was funny, loud, sometimes obnoxious, just like you and your friend. And it wasn’t long until he introduced you to his friends. Sangyeon caught your eye immediately. He was 100% your type. He was gorgeous, taller than you, funny, had the sweetest smile, and even sweeter eyes. Not to mention his ridiculously gorgeous body and that nose that you couldn’t stop but imagine how it would feel in between your legs if he ate you out. In your loneliest nights you’d touch yourself thinking about riding his face, his nose buried in your lower lips and strong arms holding you in place.

“yn? yn, are you listening to me?” Eric punched lightly your arm as you disassociated looking at the distance with the thought of Sangyeon naked upper body wet as he played in the pool.

“Uh? What?” you turned to him, eyes blinking. “Yeah, yeah, I’m here, sorry”

“You don’t seem very much here, babes” he laughed at you and you blushed, wishing none of them saw you stripping the older one naked with your eyes.

You excused yourself from the conversation and disappeared inside the house, going for the bathroom.

You closed the door behind you and took a deep breath in, exhaling with a huff. What were you thinking? Sangeyon had a girlfriend. They haven’t been dating for long but they liked each other. She would be here at any minute and if she saw the way you looked at her boyfriend, she’d kill you. It didn’t help that she already didn’t like you very much. Not that the other girlfriends liked you or your friend that much, but she almost despised you, it was almost as if she could smell your pussy throbbing every time you saw Sangyeon.

You splashed some cold water on your face, trying to wash away the dirty thoughts, and put some cold water on your neck and wrists, wishing to calm down your beating heart and rushing pulsing.

There was a knock on the door, waking you back from reality. Another deep breath was taken before opening the door. But on the other side was the last person you wanted to see.

“Oh, sorry, yn, did I interrupt you?” he asked, that sweet smile on his face and all you wanted was to punch it away.

“Oh, no, don’t worry, I finished already” you gave a half smile and tried to leave but he blocked your passage.

“Is everything okay? You seem unwell” you nodded, trying to focus your eyes on the skin between his brows, not on his luscious soft lips or his pale built chest waiting to be marked with your freshly done nails. “Are you sure? You seem pale” he took two steps closer, the back of his hand touching your forehead.

You took a step back, a little caught off guard by his sudden behavior. He took another step closer, his other hands holding your barely covered waist so you’d stay in place. Your skin felt like it was burning where he touched it. You knew he was just being careful, kind, like the leader he is, he was treating you like he treats the boys. You were one of the boys to him. Right?

His hand that was on your forehead touched your cheeks, neck and lowered to the place right in the middle of your chest, where your heart was pounding like it wanted to leave your body. And you wished it did so he wouldn’t notice.

“Oh my god, yn, your heart is beating so fast? Are you sure you’re okay?” you nodded.

“I-I am. Don’t worry” your voice was a whisper. You felt so stupid in front of him.

“Are you nervous? You seem nervous, yn?” he smirked and you felt your knees go weak, thanking for a brief moment the way he held you. “Am I the one making you nervous, yn?” You blinked at his statement. Yes, he was the reason but you thought he didn’t even notice.

You barely saw it happening from how fast it did. He pushed you back inside the bathroom and closed the door behind you two, locking it. His body was now flushed against yours, chest to chest, your thin beach dress doing nothing to separate the heat of your bodies.

He gave a chuckle seeing how nervous and flushed you got, cheeks burning with embarrassment. You thanked god he couldn’t see the state your bikini bottoms probably were.

“It’s so cute how you think I didn’t see the way you’ve been looking at me the whole afternoon. The whole time we’ve known each other actually” his smirk never leaving his lips and you gulped, so you weren’t so slick after all. “Oh princess, you think I’d be dumb enough not to notice?” you felt your walls clench on nothing when he called you princess. “But you wanna know how I noticed?” he asked and lowered his face to your neck, his lips ghosting over your heated skin, the small hairs prickling and shivering. His tongue suddenly licked a stripe from bottom to top, reaching your ear so he could whisper “Because I was looking at you too”, your breath caught in your throat as he bit your earlobe, legs giving up on holding your weight.

He chuckled, satisfied with his effect on your body with the bare minimum. His hands squeezed the plush skin on your waist and pushed you against the sink, sandwiching you against the hard cold marble and his hard warm body. You could already feel something as hard as his muscles poking your stomach through the thin material of his swim shorts.

Sangyeon slowly raised his hands from your waist to your face, holding it in place so you had nowhere else to look but his face. Your lips were parted, breathing difficult just by your nose. You were giving in to him so easily. Mind completely blank from anything else, every corner, every crease of your brain filled with him.

It was like you were floating, laid down in the softness of the clouds when his lips finally met yours. His plush and hot ones pressed hard against yours. Your eyes were shut tightly, afraid it was just a trick of your own mind, a dream. Another one of those delicious, dirty wet dreams you had with him. The man started to move his mouth and you lost it, lost every little bit of shame or what else you could feel besides need, hands circling his neck and kissing him back. Mouths moving aggressively, teeth clashing and tongues fighting. It was even better than you had imagined. The way his mouth moved hungrily against yours, as if this was his last opportunity, his last chance with you.

Due to air missing from both of your lungs, you cut the kiss, but his mouth didn’t stop, the muscles went right to your neck, kissing it delicately, careful not to mark you and give away what you were doing.

Your mind finally went back to place and you realized what you were doing. You pushed him away, conscience heaving.

“I- we can’t… please stop” you tried to leave the bathroom but he held you against the door. “Sangyeon…” you whined, trying to leave his hold.

“We broke up” you stopped in your tracks. He knew exactly what your problem was.

“What?” You asked more for yourself than to him. He chuckled and shook his head.

“Do you really think I’d do this with you if I still had a girlfriend? You think that lowly of me?”

“No! I mean no…” you blushed. “I… I couldn’t know. I… I’m sorry” you lowered your head.

He grabbed your chin between his fingers and raised your face to look at him, gently putting your hair away from your face.

“It’s okay, I should have said it” you smiled and nodded. “So… now that we’ve established that I’m single… can we…” you giggled at his sudden cuteness but nonetheless kissed him again, cutting his sentence.

He used the opportunity to lock the door behind you, and lowered himself a little so he could grab the back of your thighs and put you on top of the cold marble sink.

“Even tho’ I really wish I could listen to you scream my name,” he said against your mouth, changing his position to your ears so he could whisper, “the sweet little moans and whimpers that I bet you have are just for me, darling. No one can listen” you nodded, biting your lower lip instinctively to hold any sound. “I’ve been dying to have you on my sheets since day one, yn” your hands on his back stopped as he moved to look into your eyes again. “I know this is not the perfect first time for ourselves but I’ll make sure to compensate you another day” you smiled and held his face between your hands, just like he had done before.

“I don’t care about perfect, Sangyeon, all I need right now is for you to fuck me because it’s starting to get too hot in here” he chuckled and went back to devouring your lips.

He moved one of his hands between your bodies and started to touch your vulva through the fabric of your bikini. The material was starting to look darker in the spot where your wetness was being held. You held a low whine when he pressed two fingers against your clit, kiss never being broken with his actions. His same fingers moved the fabric to the side, the tip of the digits sliding up and down in your slick coated pussy.

“Fuck, Princess you’re so wet” you nodded, enjoying little movements he did on you. “Did I get you this wet?” You nodded feverishly again, holding a deeper whine when the tip of his middle finger poked your entrance.

He moved a little away from your body just to help you get out of your bikini set and dress, leaving you bare in front of him. You shivered with the way the cold air hit your nipples and your hot wet pussy. But you barely got time to feel anything else because Sangyeon attacked your nipples with his lips and I sorted his middle finger inside you without any difficulty.

Your back was thrown back and your back arched forward his face as he kept his assault on you. It was borderline impossible to keep quiet but you tried your best, not wanting anyone to discover the nasty things you two were doing in the bathroom.

His mouth was skillful in your nipple, biting, licking, pulling. It all felt so good especially when paired with the way his long finger was hitting your cervix just right.

“M… more” you managed to whisper, mouth hanging open after with mute moans leaving your lips that formed an O shape.

The man was feeling generous that day, not only because you guys didn’t have much time to play and tease but because he waited for so long to fuck that he felt like he could burst inside his shorts just by your sight alone. So without any remark, he pushed two more fingers inside your hole, earning a tiny high moan that left your throat before you closed your mouth to be careful.

His attacks on your nipples started to get more slow and chaste in comparison to how fast his three fingers were listening inside you. The spongy spot just right behind your clit being hit every time he’d curl his fingers and without a warning, you came around his digits. Fluids leaking from how wet you were, creaming his fingers and hand.

Without any shame in his face, he moved his hand from in between your legs and licked his hands clean, licking and swallowing every drop of your essence. The scene was dirty, nasty, almost perverted, but it turned you on in ways you couldn’t even imagine it would. You pulled him by his neck and kissed his lips, tasting yourself in his tongue. If Sangyeon was already head over heels for you, that was the moment he thought he wanted to marry you.

After breaking the kiss up, he took his shorts and underwear down his legs and you could see his rock hard dick, the length pulsing and the girth veiny, red and angry demanding to stretch you out from the insides. Your hands pumped his length a little, feeling how he was reacting to your touched, low hisses coming from his lips as he closed his eyes and enjoyed the small touch.

He finally aligned his tip to your hole and slowly entered you, raw, burning. You bit your lip hard trying to suppress a moan, the metallic taste of bliss invading your lips from how hard you were biting. Your perfectly manicured nails, done just for this event, pressed hard against his big built shoulders, the muscles tensing with the action he was making and from the way you were leaving your marks.

He didn’t care anymore. He was far gone. Both of you were. His dick thick inside you, stretching you like his life depended on it, not giving you time to think with the way he was fucking you. Fast, hard, delicious. Your mind was blank and all you wanted was to cum again. Your walls pulsing around his hot hard cock.

You were almost close when he stopped fucking you, leaving you empty just to turn you around and bend you with your chest on top of the sink. Your nipples hardening with the sudden contact with the still cold marble. He gave you a good couple of spanks in each one of your ass cheeks and entered you again. The new angle hitting you just right, the knot in your stomach starting to tighten again, your orgasm approaching.

Then a sudden knock on the door caught your breath, hand going to cover your mouth so any noise wouldn’t come out.

“Sangyeon? Are you there?” It was Sunwoo. “Have you seen yn?” Your eyes widened when Sangyeon didn’t stop.

He had other plans. That little asshole. He grabbed both your arms behind your back and pulled you flushed against his chest, one of his hands holding you pressed tight against him and the other one around your neck. You opened your mouth and thanked when no sound came out. The tip of fingers pressing your pulse points on the sides of your neck, head going dizzy in the most delicious way.

His hips slowed their speed otherwise the skin slapping sound would be too loud.

“Yeah, it’s me” he answered the younger boy, hips never stilling. “No, I haven’t seen her. She probably went out to grab more alcohol, no?” He answered so easily, so simply, like his cock wasn’t buried deep inside someone’s pussy. Your pussy.

“I don’t think so but I’ll keep searching, Minji is worried”

“Don’t worry, she didn’t go far, when I finish here I’ll look for her too” he gave a slow deep thrust and you came undone around his cock, legs wobbly and the only thing holding you was the fact you were pressed between him and the sink.

“Thanks man, appreciate” the younger one left and you heard the steps getting further away.

“Such a good dirty girl for me” he kissed your neck before pulling his dick out and coming on your back. The thick white ropes painting your skin.

You slowly regained your breath as he cleaned you and him from any remains of your actions. Sangyeon helped you dress up again, careful not to hurt you. Like he wasn’t balls deep you just minutes ago.

“Just so you know, I don’t want this to be a one time thing” he said to you after making sure you were okay and had regained (at least a little) of your leg strength. “I never wanted” you nodded, a smile on your lips.

“I don’t want it to be a one time thing either” you booped his nose, earning a sweet giggle from the boy. “To be honest, I’ve been into you for a while, but I was too scared to make a move and then you started dating so I didn’t want to be a homewrecker” he hugged your lower back, bringing you close to him and kissing your lips, just a simple sweet peck on your lips.

“Don’t worry, she was a homewrecker first. Long story, I don't want to talk about” you nodded and gave him another peck. “But I still want to take you on a nice date and get to know you better”

“More than you just got to know?” It was Minji’s voice behind the door and you could see her eyes rolling. “You guys ain’t slick at all. You got me worried you little pieces of shit” you heard laughs from the other side indicating she wasn’t alone. “Now leave this bathroom and stop sneaking around”

“Yes, ma’am” Sangyeon answered and you chuckled at how red his face got. Again the step got further from the bathroom. “I think we are in trouble”

“No, we’re not, she’s just acting though” you said, opening the door, holding his hand in yours and feeling a warm feeling take your whole body. “Now let’s go before they come hunting us”.

All eyes were on you two after you went downstairs, some smirks from the boys and jealous looks from the girls. But you couldn’t care less. Your best friend came running to you, grabbing your hand and pulling you to the kitchen.

“Now tell me EVERYTHING” you giggled at her sparkly eyes. Yeah, she was definitely just acting though.

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Masterlist | feedback and requests

[islayhawkin]

Compliment

Jack dawkins x f!reader

1,3k words

Summery: you wake up together and spend time as he escortes you to a social gathering

Request: HIII!! I really liked your posts and if you are okay with writing how jack dawkins spends his day of with the reader I would really be happy!🫶🏻💗

A/N: thank you! This makes me so happy if I get feedback and request. I hope you like this bit of fluff with jack. I wanted to highlight his cocky personality a bit.

Fluff

It was a lazy morning for you both. It was one of the rare days that both you and jack had taken a day off.

You lay tangled together on jack's small bed. Your arm draped over his belly, your head snuggled up against his arm. He was the first awake so he gladly took the chance to observe you.

It was a weird feeling for him to see you lay snuggled up in his arms. Your warmth against his side. Of course he had been physically close with a lot of women. But he never felt someone he loved snuggle up to him in their sleep. In fact had he never really felt love. The only one he always had was fagin. And he wasn't excactly the most warm and loving person.

You introduced him to love so to say. And he was just beginning to learn what it meant. It is a unsetteling feeling to suddenly not only care about his own wellbeing but yours too. When not even more.

It made him want to pull you closer to him to protect you at all times. Wether it was because he grew up constantly living agitated in fear or every men felt this way, he didn't know.

Usually jack was a confident, if not cocky man but this feeling made him crave your care. He'd never admit this but he wanted you to fuss over him. He felt like a child in these moments and he thought himself pathetic for it. Still he loved it when you made him something to eat, pulled his clothes straight, cleaned dirt of his face, went through his hair or even helped him bathe.

He smiled at you softly. You looked adorable to him. Your mouth slightly opened, your breaths tickled his arm slightly. With every breath he took your arm moved up and down with his belly.

Jack waited in this position until you fluttered your eyelids open and groggily took in the place you were at.

"Mornin', love" he grinned at the sleepy look on your face.

"Morning" you smiled and buried your head into his chest. You sighed contently. Hugging his arm to your chest. "How long have you been staring at me for?" You giggle as you breathed in the scent of him.

"Mhm a while." He grinned.

"Creep." You giggled.

"You know you love it."

He pulled his arms around you to pull you on top of him. You laughed as you struggled to get out of his grip. But he held you thight. "You're not getting away from me." He grinned.

You huffed in defeat and let yourself slump on top of him. He let out a small 'oof' at your sudden weight resting on him but he still held his arms thighly around you. "I win?" He teased.

You pouted. "You're awfully strong for a lanky man."

"I was a soldier and a sailor darlin' " he smirked and gave you a wink. You snorted but there was a loving smile on your lips.

He rolled you both around to position himself above you before leaning down and pressing his lips to yours softly. You hummed contently as you kissed him back. Your hand pulling up to his hair.

He pecked your lips one last time before removing himself from you and standing up from the bed. He searched his room for his clothes and started to get dressed while you watched. He looked around for his waistcoat and you spotted it on the backrest of the bed, pulled it off and brought it over to him.

You held it up for him to slip in and he obliged happily. Your hand rested on his waist when you turned him around to face you. You buttoned up the waistcoat and pulled it straight, your eyes switching up to his eyes again. "This blue suits you."

His whole face lights up. "Thank you. You think it looks good?"

You absenently straighten the fabric of his trousers. "You look very handsome."

Jack grins. "Thank you love." He kisses your cheek.

You pull your clothing for the day on too and ask for his help in binding your corset.

With skilled fingers he pulled it close and made a ribbon at the end. "Does it fit well?"

"Yes. Thank you."

All set jack opened the door and held his arm out to you.

"May I escort you my lady?" You curtsied and took his arm. "Gladly mister."

He escorted you outside of the hospital while putting his hat on. The sun was shining brightly again which almost made it too warm in all the layers of clothing. Jack did have a free day but he was expected to attend a social gathering from the governor. So you were on your way to this social gathering you knew very little about, jack after asking him, knew not much more himself.

It was held in a hall as you arrived and jack greeted a lot of people politely. You curtsied and held your hand out a lot of times as you were expected as jacks companion.

"Dr Dawkins." A relatively tall man with sideburns and a mustache greeted him with obvious distaste as he shook jack's hand.

"Dr Sneed." jack gave him a nod with furrowed brows.

The eyes of sneed wander to your figure. "You must be miss Y/L/N." He took your hand and gave it a kiss.

You smiled politely. "Yes. It is a honor to meet you dr sneed."

"The honor is all mine." Sneed smiled sickeningly flirtatious.

Jack pulled you closer against him while he shot daggers at sneed with his eyes. Sneed seemed to share the same feelings as his eyes glared coldly at jack.

Jack escorted you further down the gathering to get away from sneed. "I hate him. Have you seen the way he looked at you?" He whispered furiously.

You layed a hand on his chest. "I know. Relax. You don't want to get in trouble again." You whispered while a polite expression was plastered on your face.

"Easy to say. I wanna punsh him just for that look-"

"Dr dawkins!" Another voice greeted him from behind us and we turned quickly around.

Jack cleared his throat. "Governor. What a honor to be invited. It seems lovely." He smiled.

You could clearly see that this wasn't what jack was good at. He was good at snarky comments. Always saying his opinion. At surviving on the streets or on a ship. He was good at dirty jobs.He wasn't made for fancy gatherings, clean clothes and pearls and polite small talk.

You made a small curty again greeted the governor with equal politeness. After the greetings were done, music started to play and drinks were served, you stood in a rather quiet corner together with a, guess what, fancy drink in hand.

You observed the people around you and your eyes fell on the dance floor in the middle of the room. Mostly courting pairs dancing formally together. Jack seemed to have noticed your interest and stood before you, one hand outstretched to you.

"Will you honor me with your hand for a dance?" You giggled and happily took his hand. He led you to the middle of the room and took a dancing position in. You started to carry out the dance moves with him. Almost moving as one.

"Where did you learn to dance?" You asked surprised as he pulled you closer to him for this move again.

"You didn't trust me to do that?" He teased.

"Actually no."

"I'm hurt. As a sailor. There was a lot of dancing. Though we lacked the women."

You smiled at the thought. "You know you're a real gentleman if you want to." His eyebrows raised with a grin.

"Is that a compliment?"

"I compliment you all the time. Your ego is way too big already."

He cocked his head to the side. "Aww come on. I never get enough of your compliments. Or your touch. Or your care. Or you for that matter."

"You know how to get a girl don't you?" You sighed.

"I assure you." He told you slightly more serious.

"I love you too jack." You whispered as you two swayed to the music.

[salty-croissants]

if your still taking requests, can you do a Bullfrog and Rayman/ramon of their S/O is Pregnant? if you can't that's okay

Thank you for the request !

I apologize for taking longer than usual , I found myself in need of a break since I was feeling a bit too uninspired to write :,T

Anyway I’ve never really written anything for a pregnant reader before , so this was a pretty fun challenge :,) 

Hope it turned out okay ! 

Details : use of female reader ( thought I’d go for that given the prompt , hopefully that’s alright ! ) ;

established relationships ; 

no warnings needed 

Bullfrog 💚

Deep down , Bullfrog still can’t believe he is actually going to become a dad …

While he is definitely worried about how he is going to keep you and your future child ( or children :> ) safe , this frog is still really looking forward to start a family with you , and he will remind you of this a lot .

< y/n , my dear , I’m just so grateful to have you by my side , you know ?

I’m so happy about our child , je ne peux pas attendre … >

He is the absolute best at taking care of you , using all the spare time he gets when he isn’t out for missions to be there anytime you need something , no matter how small .

< I’m back mon amour ! 

Here , I brought you some more food in case you get hungry , and I also made some tea while I was at it . > 

< Thank you honey ! This is exactly what I needed , you’re amazing ~ > 

When you’re feeling a bit fatigued , Bullfrog loves to just rest by your side , with the two of you often falling asleep into each other’s arms .

And if you ever try to stay up anyway , well … your partner is very good at persuading you to do otherwise .

< Hmm … I’m not that tired , sweetie … we can still … talk , or maybe do … something else … > 

< Non y/n , you need to get some sleep … you had a long day today , and I don’t want you to stress yourself too much . 

I’m going to be right here with you mon cher , so don’t worry , alright ? > 

< Heh , alright , thanks Bullfrog … 

Oof , give me a second , the little one is starting to feel heavy … > 

Your beloved assassin adores those simple moments of intimate bliss he gets with you , and whenever he occasionally opens his eyes to check on you he can’t help but feel an overwhelming happiness , knowing that you’re the person that he’s going to share a family with …

Despite the uncertainty of your futures , Bullfrog knows that as long as you’re with him , there will always be hope for him somehow .

Rayman 🧡

Oh boy is he excited ! 

Rayman loves children , so the mere thought that he’s going to have a kid with you fills him with joy …

He never thought that he’d be able to have something like this in his life , given the way people see him despite his popularity , so you better believe that he will be showering you with affection … even more than usual . 

< Oh y/n , sometimes I still can’t believe this is happening , y’know ?

I just … god , I love you so much ~ > 

Unfortunately , I honestly doubt the Directors would show much care about the fact that their star’s partner is going through a pregnancy …

They need Rayman to be on the show , that’s what matters most to them , so as much as he hates the idea of leaving you alone he doesn’t have much of a choice …

< Damn it …

I’m so sorry … if I could stay with you I would , but the Directors … > 

< Hey it’s alright hun , I’m just gonna lay here and rest until you come back , I should be just fine . > 

< Mm … well , maybe I can convince them to let me go home earlier than usual : I don’t want anything to happen to you because I couldn’t be here , y/n … I … I would never forgive myself … > 

< Ray , love … you worry too much . 

Now come here , I didn’t forget about your goodbye kiss ~ > 

< Heh , thank you y/n … mm … ~ 

I’ll be here as soon as I can , I promise . > 

During the immensely frustrating hours where he can’t be with you , Rayman is still going to remain in contact with you by calling you and sending you texts … a lot .

“Hey sweetie ! 

This should be the last interview for today , I can’t wait to see you ! ❤️

How do you feel ? I remember yesterday night you couldn’t sleep much , did you manage to get some rest ? Oh , you should also remember to drink some water if you haven’t already , it really is important , especially now !”

“Hi Ray ! ❤️

I’m okay , don’t worry , I got some sleep and that really helped a lot !

I think our child is happy you’re coming home … I can feel it kicking since I begun writing you this message ! 

We’ll both be waiting for you ❤️❤️”

After Rayman gets home , I hope you’re prepared to be showered with love and affection for the rest of the day :

he just can’t express how much he missed you , from your voice to your beautiful face … you just make him so happy , and knowing that you’re about to start a family together is just everything he could possibly need .

Ramon 🖤

1 Now that he doesn’t have to care about his job or the orders of the Directors , you better believe that Ramon is never , ever going to leave your side , especially now that you’re pregnant .

He is terrified at the idea of losing his one chance of finding happiness in his otherwise bleak existence … he won’t allow that to happen .

< y/n , where are you going ? > 

< Ah , I’ll be right back Ram , I just wanted to go for a quick walk just outside , my legs are a bit sore and - > 

< I’m coming with you . > 

< You don’t have to do that , love … I know the wounds you got yesterday while fighting those Eden guys still hurt , you should rest . > 

< I don’t … care about that . I need to be there for you . I need to keep you and our child safe .

Please y/n … you’re all I have . > 

< Okay , okay … we’ll go together , hun . I won’t leave you . > 

< Thank you … > 

He finds it especially comforting to gently rest his head on your stomach , listening to the baby’s occasional small movements beneath … 

It’s in little tender moments like these that Ramon can finally put his mind at ease , momentarily forgetting about Eden and the mess you’re in .

< Does this hurt , darling ? > 

< Hmm ? 

Oh no , it doesn’t ! Don’t worry about it …

It actually feels very nice ~ 

Ramon’s mind often gets crowded with unwelcome thoughts about what kind of life will he be able to provide to your kid , given the critical situation you’re currently both in , and as much as he tries to keep those feelings to himself you’re able to understand what’s on his mind . 

< I know you’re worried about our future , I am too … but I just know things will be alright for all three of us . > 

< How do you know that … ? > 

< Oh , that’s easy Ram : 

I have you here with me , and that’s all I need to keep on going !

It’s not going to be easy , but I know we can face what comes next if we stick together , and we’ll be able to make our child grow happily in a good place . > 

< Heh … you always know how to make me feel better , y/n .

I love you so much , you know that … ? > 

< I love you too Ramon … trust me , we are going to be okay . > 

[justabigassnerd]

Making You Proud

Pairing - Pete 'Maverick' Mitchell x daughter!reader

Word count - 6,671

Warnings - major character deaths, grief, angst, mentions of being shot down, funerals, just a whole lot of sadness okay? bit of fluff at the end

Summary - you lose the one person you thought you'd never lose and have a hard time coping

A/N - hey y'all it's time for a new fic isn't it? this was an anon request that I absolutely loved like I read it and was like 'this is the most angsty thing I've ever read... I love it!' so I really hope I've done the idea justice. I won't ramble but as per y'all, please send in requests, feedback and enjoy!!!

Growing up, it had just been you and your dad against the world. Your mother hadn’t wanted a baby and so handed you straight over to Maverick almost the second you were born and forfeited any parental rights. You loved your dad; he was the best dad he could possibly be for you. He loved and protected you unconditionally. He also brought his best friend and RIO Nick ‘Goose’ Bradshaw into your small family along with his wife, Carole and son Bradley who was but a year older than you.

When you were little, you, your dad, Goose and his family all relocated to Miramar after your dad and Goose’s training at Top Gun. The two men were offered permanent positions as instructors at the highly regarded Navy school. They accepted, mostly so they’d have a more permanent place to call home but insisted that they still got to go on occasional deployments since their love for aviation was too much to consider giving it up. So you grew up in Miramar, with Bradley as your best friend and a loving group of people surrounding you, especially with the inclusion of your dad’s Top Gun classmates, Tom ‘Iceman’ Kazansky and Ron ‘Slider’ Kerner.

Not long after you turned eighteen, your dad and Goose were given a new deployment, according to the brief it wasn’t going to be any longer than a couple of months and with you due to go off to college just after Maverick’s return he was even more determined to get back on time. With you being eighteen, and Carole just down the road if you needed her, Maverick was fully comfortable leaving you in charge of the house while he was gone. He stocked up the fridge before he left and made sure to leave you some extra money for the next food shops you need to do.

“Alright squirt. I’ll see you in a couple of months.” Maverick said with his ever confident smile as you stood on the pier along with all the other families bidding goodbye to their loved ones.

“You’ll be back in time to help me move into college, right?” You ask looking up at your dad as he softens.

“y/n, nothing is going to stop me from being there. I’ll fly back from the carrier if I have to.” Maverick promises, bringing you into a gentle hug and rubbing a hand up and down your back. When you’re released from the hug you move to hug Goose goodbye, throwing your arms around him as Carole and Bradley move to say goodbye to Maverick.

“You’ll look after him for me, won’t you?” You quietly ask Goose, looking up at him as he nods.

“Been doing it for this long and I don’t plan on stopping.” Goose assures, squeezing you in the hug a little before releasing you. You hear the call for all the Navy personnel to begin boarding the carrier and look at your dad who smiles.

“That’s us.” He says, glancing over at Goose who nods, both men picking up their bags and turning to head over to board the carrier.

“Dad, wait!” You call out, rushing over to your dad as he turns back to face you before hugging him tightly, eliciting a small ‘oof’ from him upon impact. Maverick, of course, did not hesitate to hug back, pressing a kiss to the top of your head as well.

“I love you.” You whisper, hugging him a little tighter.

“I love you too, sweetheart.” Maverick replies, a smile on his face as he presses one last kiss to the top of your head before releasing you to join Goose and board the carrier. After keeping you dad in your line of sight until he disappeared into the aircraft carrier, you watched as the carrier pulled out into the ocean and began its journey across the seas. When the families began to disperse, you turned to face Carole and Bradley.

“I say we get some ice cream. On me.” Bradley says with a grin, looking from you to Carole as you roll your eyes jokingly. Getting ice cream after seeing your dad and Goose go out on a deployment became a tradition when you and Bradley were young, and you never wanted to let it go.

“Oh the ice creams are on him, Carole! Is this part of becoming a fancy college kid? Being able to afford ice creams now.” You joke as you follow Bradley and Carole to Goose’s bright blue Bronco. Your words caused a light laugh from Carole while Bradley laughed sarcastically. Bradley had just finished his first year at college and was back home for the summer, he had wanted to join the Navy straight out of high school, but Carole and Goose had urged him to try college first, to see if he finds something he likes more and to just get a degree under his belt in case after he graduates, he can’t pursue a career in the Navy.

“Just remember, you’ll be a fancy college kid in a couple of months.” Bradley grins as he ruffles at your hair, laughing as you swat at his hand, laughing yourself. The three of you climb into the Bronco and Bradley drives to the ice cream parlour you had frequented in your youth.

“How are you feeling about college, sweetie?” Carole asks, her ever soft smile on her face as you eat a spoonful of the small tub of the ice cream.

“A bit nervous. I’m going to be so far away from here. It’ll be weird not seeing everyone.” You confess, glancing down at the table, eyes fixed on a stain that clearly no amount of cleaning would get out.

“You’ll be okay, sweetie. You’ll be able to visit, or we’ll come and visit you. Either way you’ll get to see us. You’ll end up having so much fun anyway.” Carole says, smiling as you nod lightly at her words.

“Trust me, you’ll have a great time. You’ll make so many new friends as well. As long as none of them replace me.” Bradley says, sending you a wink from across the table as you let out a soft laugh.

“I promise none of my new college friends will replace you if you promise none of your college friends can replace me.” You bargain, getting a nod from Bradley instantly as he holds out a hand to shake on a deal.

“Seems we have a deal. None of my friends could hold a candle to you anyway.” Bradley says, smiling at you as you smile back. After finishing your ice creams, you spend the rest of the day spending time with Carole and Bradley before heading home in the evening to get some sleep.

Over the weeks your dad was away, you spent time with Bradley and Carole, as well as spending some time with some of your school friends to make some memories before you all head off to different colleges. You didn’t get much communication with your dad, only getting rare phone calls when he was granted one. But you had been counting down the days on the calendar that sat proudly on the kitchen wall, you’d been crossing off the days as they passed as they inched closer to the day that had ‘DAD HOME’ in bright red letters.

Four days before your dad was due to come home, you received a knock on the door. Thinking it was Bradley, Carole, or one of your friends you turned the tv off and went to the door. However, when you opened the door, you were greeted by two men in Navy uniform, both with solemn expressions on their faces. The smile you had on your face dropped the moment you registered who was stood in front of you. You were staring at Viper and Jester, your dad’s old Top Gun instructors.

“Please tell me he’s just in hospital.” Your voice came out as nothing more than a whisper as you looked up at the two men, eyes quickly becoming cloudy with tears before you blinked them away rapidly, determined not to cry yet.

“May we come in?” Jester asked, watching carefully as you nod, stepping aside and holding the door open wider so the two men can enter before closing the door behind them and leading them into the living room where they urge you to take a seat on the armchair while they perch on the sofa.

“We regret to inform you that your father, Lieutenant Commander Pete Mitchell, was killed in action earlier this morning.” Viper says solemnly, heart breaking as he watches your eyes become teary, bottom lip quickly being clamped down on so it doesn’t wobble. Viper had flown alongside your grandfather in the Vietnam war and saw him get shot down and now he had to report of Pete Mitchell’s death to his daughter.

“How?” Was all you managed to get out as tears begin dribbling down your cheeks and your arms wind around your middle as if you were shielding yourself from further harm.

“They say the bandit came out of nowhere. Your dad was scouting ahead, checking for anything that may come the carrier’s way. Either Goose or Maverick must’ve only spotted it moments before it struck because I was told your father attempted to report something in before his signal cut off. Chipper couldn’t get there in time to save them. By the time he shot the enemy down…” Viper couldn’t bring himself to finish his sentence, from what he had been told, the image alone of the jet plummeting into the sea in a fiery blaze was too much for even him to handle, let alone Maverick’s eighteen year old daughter.

“Does that mean that Goose is-” A sob cut you off before you could even finish the sentence you were dreading to ask. After wiping your eyes fiercely with the back of your hand you look back at the men and see Jester nod.

“It happened too fast, neither man made it out. There will be an attempt to recover the bodies but we’re trying not to get too hopeful.” Jester says carefully, watching you carefully as more tears work their way down your cheeks, your eyes squeezing shut momentarily to free the tears that are stuck.

“The Navy will take care of any funeral arrangements and are willing to offer you as much support as you need. You can come by whenever if you’d like to clear your dad’s belongings out or if you’d rather someone else can do it and bring them here.” Viper continues, wanting to make sure you don’t feel like you have too much pressure to figure everything out alone. When he saw Maverick’s next of kin list consisting of only your name, he felt awful. He thought to himself that no kid deserves to go through all this alone. You merely nodded at Viper’s words, unable to form any kind of response.

“Do you have anyone who could come over and be with you right now?” Jester asks cautiously, neither man wanted to leave you alone after receiving news this devastating and wanted to get someone to come and be with you for a while. You didn’t respond to Jester’s words, just silently sobbing and hugging yourself. You couldn’t even bring yourself to begin to think of someone who might want to check in on you. Jester and Viper exchanged a worried look when you couldn’t respond, and they started thinking of anyone who may be able to sit with you and check in on you until two people come to mind.

“What about Iceman and Slider? I know your dad was close with Iceman.” Viper then offers, watching you carefully as you give them the slightest nod, giving Jester the ‘okay’ he needed to find the phone and call Iceman’s number. It broke Jester’s heart to stand near the calendar as he dialled the number, noticing the bright red writing on the date four days from now. His heart broke further when his eyes drifted to a day less than a week after Maverick was due to return with, ‘y/n moves into college!’ written undeniably in Maverick’s handwriting. Jester was suddenly shaken out of his thoughts when he heard the voice of Iceman on the other end of the phone and asked him to come over as quickly as he can, and to bring Slider with him.

In the time it took for Iceman and Slider to come over, you excused yourself to go upstairs to the bathroom and to have a bit of privacy. After splashing your face repeatedly and quickly realising it wasn’t going to help the way you were expecting it to, you decided to slink into your dad’s empty bedroom to let out more tears in private.

When Iceman and Slider got to the house, they had been anticipating seeing Jester at the house but seeing Viper as well, both men donning their uniform, set off warning bells in both Iceman and Slider’s heads. The two entered the house and listened carefully as Viper and Jester explained everything about the accident and the deaths of both Maverick and Goose. Iceman and Slider felt their hearts drop at the news.

“Where’s y/n?” Was the first thing Iceman could muster the courage to say, eyes darting around the room in search of you.

“She went upstairs to the bathroom not long before you two arrived.” Viper says, watching as both Iceman and Slider’s eye’s drift to the hallway where the stairs are.

“Can we check on her?” Slider asks, glancing back at his superiors who nod.

“We’ll leave her in your care for now. We called you both over so she wouldn’t be alone. Keep an eye on her and if we can help in any way, let us know.” Jester then says, both he and Viper making their way over to the door while Iceman and Slider follow them, seeing them off before heading upstairs in search of you. Walking past Maverick’s room, both men paused outside the door when they heard the sound of muffled sobs coming from the other side of the door. Slider gently pushed the door open to reveal you curled up on Maverick’s bed, curled into his pillow as you sobbed into it. Both men exchanged a brief worried glance before entering the room. Both of them perched on the other side of Maverick’s bed gaining your attention the slightest amount as you glanced at them out of the corner of your eye before burying your face further into the pillow, inhaling the faint scent of your dad’s cologne that still clung to the pillow.

“You should go and check on Carole and Bradley.” Was the first thing you said, voice muffled by the pillow and thick with tears, but they heard you regardless.

“No, we’re here to check on you. We don’t want you to be alone right now.” Slider says, shaking his head at your words the moment they left your mouth.

“We’re going to help you through this, okay? You’re not alone.” Iceman said softly, hand reaching to rest on your shoulder as his thumb began to rub soothing circles on your shoulder. Inside, Iceman was screaming. He was having to comfort the daughter of the man he had secretly harboured feelings for, since the moment he saw Maverick in the bar before training officially began. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. He wasn’t supposed to be comforting a grieving daughter. He was supposed to be watching Maverick drive with you to your college ready for move in day. He was supposed to finally get the guts to confess how he had really felt after all these years.

“How am I supposed to keep going without him?” You question, another wave of sobs washing over you as Iceman continues to smooth his thumb over your shoulder.

“We’ll help you. You don’t have to be alone.” Slider repeats what Iceman had said just moments prior, doing his best to support you.

You continued to sob and didn’t speak another word to the pilot and RIO duo. You sobbed and sobbed until you cried yourself to sleep, still clinging to Maverick’s pillow. When they had noticed that you had fallen asleep, they exchanged another worried look before Iceman took a deep breath before speaking.

“I’m going to stay. I can’t leave her alone right now. You can head home.” Iceman says, speaking soft enough to not disturb you. Slider nodded lightly, both men standing as Slider grabbed the blanket that lay folded at the end of the bed and carefully draped it over you before the two left the room, heading downstairs and congregating by the front door.

“If you need any help or anything, call me.” Slider says, attempting a gentle smile for his friend but he was sure Iceman could see right through it.

“I will.” Iceman says, patting his friend on the shoulder and watching him leave the house. The second the door closed, Iceman let out a small sigh, eyes drifting back to the stairs before heading into the living room.

When you woke up, at first you were confused as to why you were in your dad’s room but when the memories of a few hours prior returned you were once again holding back sobs, wiping the tear stains from earlier off your cheeks. As you wiped your cheeks, you heard birds singing from their tree branches and you wanted nothing more for them to shut up. How could they be so cheerful when you had just lost the most important person in your life? It was the cruellest irony to have the day be so sunny and cheerful when you had just learnt of this irreplaceable loss.

When your stomach grumbled, giving away your hunger, you debated not even getting up at all. You wanted to just wither away in bed and never see the light of day ever again. Just as you were in the motion of tugging the blanket over your head, Iceman gently pushed the door open, a tray of food in hand.

“y/n/n, I brought you up something to eat, kid.” Iceman says gently, approaching the bedside and setting the tray down on the cleanest of the two beside tables. Why Maverick needed two bedside tables when the room was only occupied by one person, Iceman would never understand.

“’M not hungry, Ice.” You mumble from beneath the blanket, making Iceman sigh lightly and perch on the bed once more.

“I think you should eat something, even if it’s a little.” Iceman gently encourages, watching as you begin to poke your head out of the blanket, looking over at the pilot who offers you a small smile to encourage you out further, like you were a cat he was trying to win over. Before you could reply, your stomach rumbled angrily, giving away your desire for food and Iceman just handed the food over with a raised eyebrow. He watched you like a hawk, making sure you ate.

“I know this is probably not what you want to hear right now but we should probably think about where you’re going to live.” Iceman starts, trying his best to approach the subject. He knew it was better to talk about it now rather than later.

“Where I’m going to live? Here. Dad bought the house if there’s a chance, I get the house I’m keeping it.” You state as if it’s the most obvious answer in the world.

“y/n, you’re going to college in a couple of weeks. Paying for this house would probably be a bit above your pay grade right now. If your dad left the house in your name maybe you could rent the house out to people until you’ve finished college and in a good enough financial place to afford living there. In your breaks from college you can always come to mine if you want. My door will always be open to you.” Iceman says, and deep down you knew he was being logical, but you didn’t want any help. You were sure you’d be able to get through this without the help of Iceman.

“Ice, I’ll figure it out. You don’t need to do this.” There was a slight bite behind your words as you glared over at Iceman.

“But you don’t have to be alone. We want to help you.” Iceman tries to get through to you, not wanting you to feel like you had to do everything alone.

“I’ll be fine Ice. You can go now. Go and check on Carole and Bradley.” You, however, were sticking to your guns and weren’t backing down. Iceman knew you weren’t intentionally being mean. You were going through a lot right now and Iceman was sure he had unintentionally pressed you a bit more than he expected. Respecting your request, Iceman stood from the bed and glanced over his shoulder at you.

“If you need me, I’m just a phone call away.” He says softly before exiting the room, making his way downstairs and leaving the house.

A week later, you were burying an empty casket for your dad. Any attempts to recover Maverick and Goose’s bodies were unsuccessful so you were forced to bury an empty casket. A bunch of Navy personnel had showed up to the funeral, wanting to honour your father. It killed you to see Iceman punch his wingman’s wings into the casket. But the pain was made ten times worse when you were handed a folded flag with a copy of your dad’s dog tags on top. Your dad had given his life for the Navy, and all you got back was a flag. You had slipped the dog tags on as soon as you could. And you let out every tear you had attempted to hold back when you saw the fighter jets flying over in missing man formation. Every step of the funeral was proving to you more and more that you weren’t going to see your dad ever again.

After the funeral, as people began to disperse, most of them made the effort to share their condolences for your loss before moving on. As you glanced around the large military graveyard, you caught sight of Bradley with his arm wound tightly around Carole as she sobbed into his shoulder. You’d seen them at Goose’s funeral a couple of days prior in the same exact position they are now. Like at Goose’s funeral, you couldn’t bring yourself to go over and talk to them, so you just watched them from afar, tears in your eyes as you did. Bradley lifted his gaze and made eye contact with you from across the graveyard and you couldn’t do any more than stare back at him. Talking to Bradley and Carole meant having to remember all the times you’d spend together with them, and your father and you weren’t ready for any of that. Eventually, you tore your gaze away from him when Viper approached you with his condolences and when you looked back, both Bradley and Carole were gone.

A couple of days before you were due to move to college, you had been working hard to ensure everything was ready for when you left. After getting confirmation that your dad had left the house in your name should anything happen to him, you worked closely with an estate agent to put the house up for rent, insisting it doesn’t get sold because once you finished college and got a job you wanted to move back to Miramar and the house. You’d sold some items of furniture and other things you didn’t need but kept most of your dad’s stuff. Anything that wasn’t going to college with you was put into storage until you moved back into the house. You only spoke to one person during this time, and it was to ask Iceman if he could keep an eye on your dad’s beloved motorbike while you were away for four years. You were taking your dad’s car with you, but you couldn’t bear to sell the bike.

As you were packing up some of the last stuff you were taking to college you heard a knock on your door. You didn’t answer it, knowing it was more than likely a member of your dad’s team wanting to wish you well or check in on you. In the days leading up to your departure, you were constantly getting knocks at the door and you didn’t want to see anyone. You just wanted to get out of Miramar and would only get in contact with people when you felt good and ready. You remained silent as there was another knock at the door, when you didn’t answer again, you heard a slight thud as if someone had put something down outside your front door followed by the sounds of footsteps getting further away and the sound of a car pulling away. Curiosity getting the better of you, you crossed to the front door, pulling it open and finding a box sat outside your door.

“What the…?” You muttered to yourself as you picked up the box. It wasn’t heavy, and it felt like there was just a lot of paper or something similar sliding around. You brought the box inside, set it down beside you as you sat on the living room floor and lifted the lid off. On top you found an envelope with your name on it. You recognised the writing instantly to be your dad’s. Only your dad had handwriting that scratchy yet legible. Lifting the envelope out, your eyes were drawn to the pictures below it and you placed the envelope alongside you so you could pick up the pictures. There were pictures of Maverick with Goose, Iceman, and Slider, as well as the rest of his team. Then there was pictures of your dad with you as a baby, as a kid, and as a teenager. Tears filled your eyes as you shuffled through the pictures as you began to realise that this box was filled with stuff your dad must’ve kept in his locker at work. You then noticed patches that must’ve been off his flight suit, and you held them, flipping them over in your hands and running your fingers over the embroidered lettering. After going through the whole box your eyes drifted back to the envelope that sat alongside you and you picked it up, sliding your finger under the sealed flap and easing it open before pulling out the letter inside, opening it carefully and beginning to read.

y/n,

If you’re reading this, then I can only assume the worst has happened and I have died and left you behind.

I’m not the best with words, you know this, but I’ll try here for you. I love you so much squirt. You’ve been the light of my life since I first held you in my arms. I know it’ll seem so hard, but you can get through this kid, I know you can. You’re so strong and I want you to go out there and make me proud like you already do every day. You’ll take this world by a storm I just know it.

I am so sorry for leaving you. Just know I’m with you every step of the way in spirit. I’ll make my presence known, promise.

Show the world what Mitchell’s are made of.

Love,

Dad

You were unaware of the tears that had fallen until you noticed the tear stains on the bottom of the letter, and you were immediately moving the paper away from the line of fire from your tears and wiping your cheeks harshly to get rid of the tears that fell. You then folded the letter up and put it back into the envelope for safe keeping before lying back on the carpet to regain control of your emotions.

When the time came for you to begin the drive to your college. You loaded the car up, sparing one last glance to your house as you closed the door.

“I’ll be back. Promise.” You whisper to the house. It felt weird, promising a house that you’d be back but you had grown up in this house. You wanted to come back to it when you could. It was a way to keep your dad with you a little more. After bidding the house goodbye, you climbed into the car, glancing over at the passenger seat where you’d laid your dad’s jacket proudly over the seat as your hand reached up to the dog tags that sat around your neck.

“I’m going to show them what Mitchell’s are made of, dad.” You whisper, a soft smile on your face as you turn the cars engine on, pulling out of your driveway and beginning the journey to your next step in life.

True to your whispered promise. You showed your college what a Mitchell can do. You aced all your classes, majored in psychology, and graduated with top grades. On graduation day, you looked into the audience of proud parents and wished above all else that your dad could’ve been there to see you graduate. You had no doubt he would’ve been the loudest parent there. You could picture him alongside Goose, Carole, Iceman, Slider, and maybe Bradley as they cheered you on, hugging you once you met with them after the ceremony. Instead you were alone, awkwardly dodging parents and graduates until you decided to just leave the ceremony.

After graduating, you moved back to Miramar, becoming a therapist within the Navy. You served as support for veterans, serving members, and family members of any Navy personnel, serving or retired, alive or dead, you’d provide help the best you could. You even reconnected with Iceman and Slider, apologising for the way you had treated them prior to you moving away but they dismissed your apologies, hugging you tight as they told you how good it was to see you again. You first moved into a small apartment to save up money before you got into a good enough financial place to be able to move back into your childhood home. You visited your dad’s grave at least once a week, filling him in on everything that had happened in that time. Despite everything you had achieved, you often wondered if you made your dad proud.

About twelve years after you graduated and moved back to Miramar, you were still happily working for the Navy. You had just finished a long day of seeing client after client, having particularly been affected by a girl that was brought in by her father after her mother died on a deployment. The girl was a similar age to you when Maverick died so after finishing up for the day you needed to go for a walk around the nearest park to clear your mind. As you stepped out of your office, you saw a person stood outside. The first thing that stood out to you was the man’s Hawaiian shirt, not many people wore shirts like that. When the man looked at you, you could’ve stumbled back in shock, he looked so much like Goose, sandy blond hair, moustache, everything. And when you squinted slightly, you realised who you were looking at.

“Bradley?” You questioned, stepping closer to the man, and stopping when he smiles softly.

“Hey y/n.” He replies, his voice quiet and soft as he watches you. He had grown up so much since you last saw him. He’d filled out with more muscles; he started sporting a moustache like his father’s, but he was still Bradley. You longed to hug him, but you felt you didn’t deserve such a greeting after going no contact with him for so long. Bradley could see the conflict within you and held his arms open, raising an eyebrow with a smile, giving you an invitation that you accept instantly, walking into his outstretched arms and hugging him tight as he winds his arms around you.

“I’m so sorry Bradley.” You whisper against his shoulder, tears stinging at the corner of your eyes as you cling to him.

“Don’t apologise.” He says, resting his chin gently on the top of your head.

“But I stopped talking to you. I never checked in.” You say, squeezing your eyes shut to fight off the tears.

“Hey, communication is a two way street. I could’ve reached out, but I didn’t. I think after what happened with dad there was just too many memories and I backed out any time the thought crossed my mind.” Bradley says, assuring you that there was no bad blood between the two of you. After hugging for what felt like forever, you finally pulled away, smiling up at your old friend.

“How did you find out I worked here? You haven’t been stalking me, have you?” You quip as Bradley lets out a breathy laugh.

“You wish. I’m stationed here now at Top Gun. I completed a mission a week or so ago and it really shook me up and one of my teammates recommended I see you. The second I heard your first name I knew it had to be you.” Bradley explained, his grin never fading.

“So you are a Navy man now. Making Goose proud I bet. Who recommended me? Just out of curiosity.” You ask, wondering which of your clients it could be.

“Hangman. He spoke highly of you.” Bradley said, making your eyes widen slightly.

“Jake’s here too and he hasn’t bothered to come and see me? I have some strong words for him when I next see him.” You had gotten along with Jake well; you were able to see past his strong bravado and help him navigate the loss of a wingman pretty early on in his career in the Navy. The two of you had formed a strong friendship and you tried to check in with him when you could.

“So, you joined the Navy after college. What’s your callsign?” You ask, looking up at Bradley as he takes a breath before speaking.

“Rooster.” He says, watching as you nod.

“It suits you, Rooster.” You say, testing the callsign out.

“Do you want to join me for a walk? If you have stuff to do it’s fine the offer is there though.” You then say, watching as Bradley debates the offer before nodding. You lead Bradley to the park, the two of you chatting the whole way before you settle down alongside each other on a park bench to continue talking.

“How’s Carole? I completely forgot to ask.” You say, the thought hitting you violently.

“Oh… she passed away a year after dad died.” Bradley says and you immediately feel like the worst person on the planet.

“Bradley, I’m so sorry I didn’t know.” You apologise quickly, without even thinking you reach out and give his hand a reassuring squeeze.

“It’s okay. She wasn’t doing great after dad died, I thought it was a temporary illness but one day I got a call saying her heart gave out. I think she died of a broken heart.” Bradley says, making tears fill your eyes.

“She’s with Goose now, and the two of them are watching over you and they’re so damn proud of you I just know it.” You say as Bradley smiles over at you.

“They’re with Mav I bet. And I bet he’s so proud of you as well.” Bradley says, his words bringing your smile back to your face.

“You know, the mission we flew the other week, our instructors kept talking about your dad.” Bradley says, making your eyes widen slightly as you watch him.

“Talking about my dad?” You prod gently, wanting answers.

“It was a rough mission. We thought someone wasn’t going to make it home. Our instructors kept talking about how your dad would’ve been a perfect person to teach or lead the mission. No one understood missions like that the way he did.” Bradley explains, making you nod lightly. Your dad had been reckless within the Navy, but he used his recklessness to do what others were afraid of doing, which put him above the others in the Navy.

You continued to talk in the park with Bradley, catching up with him on everything until the sun began its descent over the horizon, the golden glow dancing through the tree leaves.

“I’m glad I found you. It’s been great talking to you again.” Bradley says, his gaze fixed on the glow filtering through the trees.

“It’s been great talking to you again too Bradley.” You reply, smiling over at him and admiring the way the golden glow of the sun illuminated his face perfectly. Had he always been this attractive? Or were you just noticing it now? Before you could get lost in your thoughts, Bradley turned back to you.

“We should probably head home before it gets dark.” Bradley says, eyes drifting back to the sun before looking back at you.

“You’re right.” You mutter, upset that this moment has to end.

“So, where are you living now? I’ll walk you home.” You didn’t expect that response from Bradley, and it had your eyes wide in seconds.

“Bradley you really don’t have to worry about it. I’m not too far from here anyway.” You say but Bradley was on his feet, helping you up and looking down at you with a raised eyebrow.

“I was brought up to be a gentleman so let me walk you home, okay?” Bradley says, his soft expression melting you down in seconds.

“I live exactly where I used to when I was younger.” You say and Bradley’s eyes light up, remembering the house all too well.

“Let’s go!” He says enthusiastically, practically bounding along like a golden retriever as he walks you home. The two of you continue to talk until you end up outside your front door.

“Well this is it. Hasn’t changed much.” You say sheepishly, thumb rubbing your wrist in nervousness as Bradley grins.

“Still a great house. I’d love to come by one day and see what you’ve done with the place if you’d let me.” Bradley says, making you smile softly before a sudden wave of confidence overcomes you, making you hold your hand out.

“Give me your phone. I’ll put my number in and then we can arrange a time for you to come round.” You say and Bradley instantly dug his phone out of his jean pocket and handed it you, waiting as you made yourself a contact and sent yourself a message so you could add Bradley’s number into your phone. When you handed the phone back to him, your fingertips brushed against his and you could’ve sworn you felt sparks travel up your arm.

“Goodnight, y/n.” Bradley says, bidding you goodbye with one last quick hug.

“Goodnight, Bradley.” You reply, releasing him from the hug and watching as he walks down the driveway before entering the house, sending him one final wave when he glanced over his shoulder. As you entered the house, you made yourself something for dinner before heading upstairs to get ready for bed, exhaustion quickly overtaking you as you clambered into bed, looking over at the picture of you and your dad that sat proudly on your bedside table.

“Goodnight dad. I’ve got a hell of a story to tell you when I next visit. I hope I’m making you proud.” You whispered to the photo, your eyes slipping shut as you allowed sleep to take over.

Little did you know, Maverick had been watching over you ever since his death and as you whispered your little mantra of hoping you made him proud every night, he’d always respond with the same thing.

“You make me proud every damn day.”

[frankenstein-ate-my-left-shoe]

Okay this idea has been rotting my brain all night and i need to get it out; i may turn this into a full fic (there’s so much more to eddie and how he died), but here’s some paranormal romance steddie! (with a nod to the @azrielgreen -verse at the end 😉)

edit: i've started posting the full fic! on tumblr | on AO3

—

imagine ghost!eddie haunting the estate that was built overtop where his trailer had been

ghost!eddie becoming corporeal(ish) every halloween, letting his rage fuel the poltergeist rumors at the old estate.

the forest hills estate sits empty since being completed, until Steve Harrington moves in from Indianapolis.

Steve Harrington who uses the inheritance from his grandfather to fix up the old place, not knowing the rumors, the stories, that have been floating around the last nearly 40 years.

Steve, who ends up learning about them from a pack of young teens riding by the front gate on their bikes.

“You know that place is haunted as fuck, right?” says the red head.

“Language!” he scowls at her, only to get an eye roll from her and the gangly, greasy looking one. “And no, I didn’t know that. Is that why all my cabinets are open every morning when I wake up?” he asks. And they really had been, he kinda figured that there was something going on in that house but hadn’t felt threatened by whatever presence was there.

He relishes in their spooked faces.

“A girl died there and her boyfriend killed the guy who did it soon after.” the one with the high top fade said earnestly.

“Allegedly, Lucas! Allegedly!” this time it’s the one with the curly hair and cap. “He always thought it was him but there was literally a letter.”

“He could’ve faked it, Dustin!” the gangly one snarks at his friend.

“It’s not likely, handwriting forensics concluded it to be her handwriting.” oof, this kid desperately needs a haircut.

“POINT IS.” the red head yells over the boys. It must’ve been a regular occurrence though, as they all fall silent (or silent enough while still bickering). She turns back to an amused Steve, “He likes metal music. If you play it, I’m sure he’ll leave your cabinets alone.”

“He who? The ghost?”

She nods, “Yep!”

So he does, picks up some retro vinyl to play (along with playing some tracks from his phone over his speaker while he works on the house), figuring if the guy died in the 80s, he’d probably like the sound of them better.

He plays the music, finds he likes some of it, talks to this mystery ghost as he goes about the house finishing projects. Throws some classic rock on sometimes too, saying “Hey ghost man, I’m sorry but I can’t listen to this much metal at a time. Hope Zepplin is okay.”

ghost!eddie who will always use some of his ghostly persuasion over things to spin the vinyl backwards on the turntable during ‘Stairway to Heaven’.

Steve, who does some research and learns about his supposed ghost, yells in greeting as soon as he’s back from the library, “Hi, Eddie!! I’m home!” reveling in the swirls of cold air that spin around him in response along with just a ghost (hah) of a whispered “Hi, Stevie..” in his ear.

Steve and Eddie, who get closer and closer over the months, learning anything and everything about one another. Steve goes through a lot of paper in the first couple weeks, asking a question and waiting for the paper with ‘Yes’ or ‘No’ written on it to flutter in an unseen breeze. Which paper scribbled with a different color marker to fly up into his lap (Eddie’s favorite color is blue, Steve tells him his is yellow).

Steve, beginning to see the shadow of another person in the corner of his eye more often the not as the summer winds into fall and the repairs he needed done are wrapping up.

By September there’s no denying the figure he sees reaching a hand out to flick up the answer to a question, or the laughter he hears coming from it after a particularly bad joke.

The shadow is Eddie; and Steve is starting to make out details about his ghost.

The long fluffy hair, the slim waist, the dark eyes that pierce through shadow against the slowly brightening skin beneath.

Eddie, who realizes Steve must be able to see him and starts staying away more often then not, afraid of what he’d see in that beautiful face when he’s finally his old boring self again. Can’t bear to see that disappointment on the face of this man he’s come to care so much for (read: fully crushing on).

He retreats fully by mid September, sticking to the far less quantifiable shadows in the house and between the walls.

Steve still tries, bless him. Leaves questions all over the place, hoping to see them answered. Eddie does, every night, wanting Steve to know he’s still here.

A week later, “Eddie, I know you can hear me, can you make sure to answer this one as soon as you can? I don’t want to make you uncomfortable, but I figured we maybe show off our house—the house—now that everything’s done.”

‘Our house!! He said our house!!!’

Eddie looks at what his Steve left on the new kitchen counter that night.

“Halloween Party?” is scrawled on an open page of their now worn notebook.

Something hot floods his chest at that. Steve wanting to make sure he’s okay with that many people being here at once. Eddie knows damn well what the feeling is and he’s not about to waste his corporeal time this year, he’s going to do something with it besides wreaking havoc (on the house at least).

Halloween arrives, and many in the small town want a glimpse into the old estate. There are people everywhere, costumes and all.

Steve’s proud of all the hard work he’s done to the place but he still misses Eddie. Wishes he could be here to see what had become of the place he’d hated for so long. See it for real.

Halfway through the night is when it happens.

The party is in full swing, his ballroom full of people and music and food. His playlist changes over to Bowie.

Steve smiles to himself at the memory the song pulls forward. Still soon after learning about Eddie and staring their questions and answers thing, Steve had put on Labyrinth, laughing at how frantically the “i LOVED it!” paper had swirled around in the air after asking Eddie’s opinion.

A new face he hadn’t seen in the crowd before catches his eye. This man coming down the staircase is striking. Long, dark, curly hair is pulled back in a low ponytail, lean legs in off white pants, sparkling dark blue jacket, slim waist… He’s so gorgeous, so ethereal, he can’t be real.

Okay, nope, everyone else in the room is parting for this man. So, definitely real.

Steve stands as the man approaches, a hand extended. Keeping their eyes locked on each other, the man leads Steve by the hand to the center of the room.

The man smirks at Steve, still stunned, and arranges their arms. Then they’re dancing, swirling around the space the crowd created for them.

Steve feels like he’s floating.

He’s dancing to As The World Falls Down with a breathtaking man he now realizes is definitely dressed as the Jareth to his Sarah.

Steve finally finds his voice, “Hi..” It’s barely a whisper.

The man smirks, scoffs a laugh, but whispers back: “Hi Stevie.”

Steve’s brain screeches to a halt, and the man’s eyes sparkle with mischief (and a little bit of apprehension).

He can’t compute the information right away, frantically scrambling for a logical explanation. Some way for someone to know about Eddie enough to imitate him, to know about ‘Stevie’..but comes up with nothing. Nada. Zip. Zilch.

“Eddie…is that really you?”

“Yeah, sweetheart, it’s really me.”

Eddie brings their foreheads together and they sway to the rest of the song, Eddie softly singing along.

The song ends and Steve pulls Eddie through the crowd and out into the garden.

His mind is still swirling, so he clings onto Eddie’s arms just as much as Eddie clings to his.

“Eddie—“

“Wait, Steve, let me..” Eddie clears his throat and explains everything. How he died, how long he spent his one night of reality trying to keep people away from where he and his best friend had died. “I don’t want to waste tonight, but I’m afraid if I—if I tell you how I feel about you…I will be complete. Done with my unfinished business and all that.”

“How do you know?”

Eddie chuckles. “The Moon.”

Steve now fully, painfully aware of how little remains of the night, how little time he may have with Eddie altogether, decides he doesn’t have time to unpack that. So he says “Kiss me. Eddie, please, kiss m—“

Eddie does, and the Moon smiles down on her beloveds.

[kpopagere]

Hiiii, I have a fic request! Just came across ur account like five minutes ago and I have ideas>.<

This is for cg!Bangchan x little!reader btw!

I’ve thought abt this so many times bc it makes me giggle. It’s when the reader is slipped with Chan during playtime. He’s just on his phone when the reader gets his attention. The reader says she has a secret and says he can’t tell her big self and after a lot of giggling she tells Chan that her big self has a crush on him. He’s socked but plays it off bc he knows she’s not her big self.

A couple days later when they’re chilling together he’s like ‘your little self told me something’ and reader immediately goes ‘she lied’ cuz she knows what she could’ve blabbed abt.

I hope I didn’t cross a boundary with this, but I’d love to see what you could do with this. Prepare for many more requests from me🤭🤭

Thank you!!!!!

*I’m so sorry it took so long I was trying to get my computer to work again ^_^!

Y/n’s little big secret

cg!Bangchan x little!reader❀

tags: little space, stray kids, kpopagere, Chan, bangchan, K-pop, age regression.

word count: 899

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

It was a normal Saturday day afternoon when y/n asked Chan to come over so they could hang out. They both had no plans and were bored. Chan agreed to letting y/n come over on one condition of bringing snacks. They had a laugh about it on the phone until y/n finally started making her way over to chan’s house.

Y/n arrived not even 30 minutes later. She barged in and ran straight for the couch disregarding the person who opened the door for her. “Oh so the couch is more important than me huh?” Asked a sheepishly smiling Chan. “WAYYY MORE IMPORTANT” y/n slightly yelled with an over exaggerated face as she crossed her legs over the couch. “Yeah yeah whatever you say, you know you love me” Chan says rolling his eyes as he walks over to the couch. Y/n pauses for a second stopping herself from blushing. “Eww no” she says as she ties her hair up into a ponytail trying to hid her blushing. “Whatever, now scoot over” Chan says as he pushes her legs off his spot on the couch.

“Oof” y/n says as her body falls forward from the force of her legs pulling her down. “Should have moved when I said so” Chan shrugged as he sat down. Laughing, they both finally get settled and y/n slowly starts to lift her legs onto Chan lap getting comfortable. A nice silence fills the room as the tv plays in the background, a couple snack crunches here and there. Y/n starts to doze off and get even more comfortable, when she feels like she’s on the clouds. She hasn’t felt this comfortable in months and her little space slowly starts drifting back to her.

Chan knows that she is a little, but hasn’t seen her regress in quite the time. Which has worried him allot knowing she had to deal with so much stress. He gives her a quick glance to make sure she is okay before turning and going on his phone. While he’s randomly scrolling he hears slight giggles coming across from the couch. Knowing she has slipped, he minds his business acting like he can’t hear her, just to see what happens. Y/n sits up and slowly but definitely not sneakily starts to scoot closer to Chan. He takes notice again but still doesn’t react, until y/n is completely snuggled up to his side. “Bwoop” y/n touches his nose giggling as she tries to go back to her original spot as fast as possible. Chan turns his head and gives a smile, before slowly crawling over to y/n and tickling her. Giggles erupt into the whole living room as y/n tries to get Chan to stop. 

“Nwoo chanie” y/n laughs as she tries to catch her breath. Chan finally stops tickling her and sits up. “Sooo guess who’s feeling little today” Chan says in a baby voice softly to y/n. “Mwe” says y/n as she tilts her head down slowly, suddenly feeling embarrassed. “Don’t worry I love it when you’re little, no need to be shy” a smiling Chan states as he lifts her head. “Y/nie hwas a swecrwet fo you” she says with her face lifted in chan’s finger. “What is it little one” he says secretly acting calm about it, because little y/n likes to tell all of big y/n’s secrets. “Bwut you cwant tell anybwody ok” she says sticking up her pinky finger, wanting Chan to interlock his with hers. “Ok I promise” Chan says smiling wide. “Bwig y/n hwas crwushies on you” she quickly says in his ear before going back to her spot on the couch. Chan smiles to himself after hearing what she said, because in fact he has liked y/n for quite some time but never had the courage to tell her. 

“Oh yeah, is that true” he asked hoping for more info. “Shh nwo twalking” she giggled turning her head to the tv peacefully watching it, not knowing she just let out her own biggest secret. It’s been a day or so since that incident happened, and Chan can’t bring himself to stop thinking about it. “I should ask her about it” he says picking up his phone. “Hey y/n do you want to come over?”  “Yeah totally, but can we go somewhere this time?” “Of course now hurry up” he says hanging up his phone, and finding something to wear.

Once again y/n barges into his house and gives Chan a wide smile. “Wow at least this time you actually smiled” Chan say sheepishly. “Yeah yeah don’t get too excited” y/n says rolling her eyes playfully. They planned to chill at his house for a little before leaving for the mall. Chan’s mind is still on what happened so he decides to ask y/n about it. “Y/n guess what, your little self told me a secret” he whispers in her ear. Y/n’s head immediately turns to Chan, while her face starts to heat up. “Nope she lied” she blurts while trying to change the subject, knowing exactly what little y/n could have said. “Umm I don’t know she sounded very sure about it” Chan says raising his eyebrow in the process. “NOPE not at all”, y/n’s face getting even hotter. “If you say so, now let’s head out” he shrugs with the biggest confident smile on his face, knowing the feelings were mutual.

______________________________________________________________

authors noteー☆

guys so sorry again if I haven’t been active, but it was really fun writing this. Thank you so much for requesting >_<!!

★๑ 💭⊹ ˚˖

reqs open! | please don't repost!

dni if you sexualize age regression

______________________________________________________________

[deathmetalunicorn1]

hello can i request a jack the ripper x male reader who is basically sherlock holmes who is his husband.

like the reader would have been the most well known detective in history that stopped a lot of serious crime's like human trafficking groups/operations, serious murders,very dangerous gangs, Drug rings ect. and always gets into near Death experiences, From getting stabbed, poisoned,shot, almost getting assassinated and many more. but by pure luck they always survive as well as making a full recovery

but the twist is that jack doesn't know that his husband is doing a very VERY dangerous job but he does know that his s/o is a detective but he didn't know that his husband was doing a very Very dangerous one he thought that they were only doing investigations of not so serious crimes like robbery's or something getting stolen in the neighborhood

so imagine his surprise seeing his husband on the news finding out that he stopped a well known gang by disguising himself as a gang member giving the police information on the group but he did get shot and stabbed but made a full recovery.

but even so how would jack react to finding this out? i sure he would be VERY VERY against it, i mean how could you not?

-Jack never could have imagined himself being married to another man- especially the man who is regarded to be the world’s greatest detective.

-However, that is what he loves so much about you- you know who he is- the real Jack, not Jack the Ripper as he claims to be. Initially you were perturbed that Jack killed other killers, but he always left the innocents alone, and while this was getting dangerous and evil people off the streets- he still killed them.

-You turned a blind eye, as long as he wouldn’t get caught, something you told him, which he agreed to, and he adored that you kept his secret.

-The two of you were an adorable couple, playing off each other’s energy- you were a morning person while Jack was a night owl, but you both always made time to spend time with each other.

-Jack would spout poetry to you, showing you how he cares, making you delicious meals, while you would surprise him with flowers, cute dates- you were both so stinking adorable!

-Jack knew your profession as a detective was a dangerous one but he believed that you were just an investigator- you weren’t going to be in any danger.

-Ding dong Jack was wrong!!

-Imagine his surprise when he turned on the news and saw you being loaded up into a gurney after you had infiltrated a local notorious gang and managed to get them captured, but you had been stabbed and shot at least once!!

-Jack never ran so fast- full speed power sprinting to the hospital the whole way, skidding to a halt as he made it there, running inside, looking for you.

-You heard the running footsteps and you braced for impact as the door slammed open and you saw your husband there.

-His eyes were wide and you managed to lift your one good arm, smiling brightly, “Hi hon- oof!” he crossed the room in the blink of an eye and threw himself into you, holding you tightly, one hand behind your head and the other around your neck, clutching you tightly.

-Your eyes had gone wide at the embrace before you smiled softly, relaxing and you lifted a hand to his silvery hair, “I’m okay Jack- I’ll be okay.”

-He inhaled deeply and you were prepared for a vicious tongue lashing as he pulled back, only to shock you as you saw unshed tears in his eyes, nothing but worry in his features.

-He was mad with you- once he got back the upset part, “I almost lost you! I didn’t know you did such dangerous things! Why didn’t you tell me?! And don’t tell me that you didn’t want me to worry!”

-You had no answer, because that’s exactly what it was- and he scolded you a second time, reminding you of what he does and that he knows danger and wants to know if you’re in danger, “You’re the only one I have- I can’t lose you too!”

-You murmured apologies into his hair as he hugged you, calling you an idiot, which you took- knowing that you had been the foolish one.

-You only had to spend two days at the hospital, luckily your wounds weren't serious and you were discharged into your husband’s loving arms, as you were now on leave to heal from your wounds.

-Jack basically grounded you- you weren’t allowed to go out without him, and he didn’t allow you to do anything- he became a mother hen, not letting you lift, bend, or do anything without helping you.

-However, you let him, you knew that you had upset him, and he was doing this to remind you of that- so he could help you heal. You did like teasing him sometimes, holding out your good arm, “I’m lonely without you cuddling me!”

-He turned so red, scolding you for being so shameless while you couldn’t help but grin- he was so cute. Jack knew you were intelligent- so he knew exactly what you were doing, teasing him.

-He held you close, giving in to your request and you hugged him with your one good arm, sighing softly and he couldn’t help but melt into your embrace, “You’re a brat I hope you know.” You pressed a kiss to his temple, “I know- but I’m your brat!”

-The swat to your thigh was worth it as you laughed warmly as he snuggled down, hugging you close.

[bengiyo]

Marahuyo Project Eps 7 & 8 (Finale) Stray Thoughts

Last time, the kids struggled to pick a name for their LGBTQIA+ organization while discussing their strategy before the school board. They eventually decided to focus on connecting their hopes for the island's future with its past, and set about researching. Archie gave Venice some files from the church, Lorie looked through files her dad had, and Ino suggested interviewing people after providing equipment. We learned that Archie is struggling with the path to holy orders (manifested in his neck scratching), Ino said aloud that he was gay and kissed King, and Lili is probably intersex. Each of our our kids is holding confidence about this. Lili read Marco for filth, read him for blood, but unfortunately we left at Marco outing her.

Episode 7: Aswang

You know King isn't the violent type, because some of my people would have curb stomped his ass by now.

Oh, Ino. I understand.

Okay, Lili's story is so sad and lonely. I'm glad she told Lili before this.

Oof, Lorie was not ready for the friends to lovers kiss.

That was difficult, but King is right. He shouldn't ask Ino to come out, but it doesn't stop him from getting hurt.

King's grandmother is great. It's making me sad that Ino has no one else to talk to after that.

Wow, Marco is really doubling down on being an asshole.

I appreciate this show now disguising the kinds of casual homophobia you run into.

It's hard to recognize when you need to give someone you love space when you want to help.

I do like the idea of them reclaiming the balagtasan as a way to present their ideas to the island.

I knew it was Ino who graffitied the mural.

Gay people really will turn their relationship problems into a public spectacle.

This poetry is beautiful.

Oh, Ino, I'm proud of you.

My boy is bleeding!! Marco, it's on sight!!

Man, what a concise breakdown of how it feels to know your truth and have your caregivers try to stifle that in you for the sake of appearances.

Episode 8: Babaylan

Ino and King opening up old wounds.

Yes, King, tell your mom. Shame is learned at home. A kid can face the world if they're safe at home.

I love King so much for not sugarcoating how bad public scorn can get.

Swimming at night is very dangerous, but I'm always happy to receive an underwater kiss BECAUSE IT STILL BELONGS TO THE GAYS.

Oh good. Lorie and Lili are finally talking.

See, this is the thing about doing queer media versus making QL sometimes. Apologizing for loving someone is such a queer experience. Your love isn't something that you should be ashamed of, and you shouldn't have to apologize for caring a lot about someone.

This feels like the right place for these two as friends to possibly more.

Oh shit Lili got me when she held back tears at getting best friends.

It really is exhausting how hard authority works constantly to police and enforce heteronormativity. There are so few of us. Why is it always this constant bullshit?

Oof, I actually like this choice to have Archie vote to impeach Ino, become the new president, and then immediately return to the site where they honored Christina to cry about it. Venice understands that taking care of other queers is a long term project. At least Archie said her name.

Many of my beloved elders have passed. I wish I could talk to them sometimes. Especially Barry.

I love that Venice is eating in almost every scene.

Hey! They finally picked a name!

I love how homophobes talk about history, and then storm out when confronted with uncomfortable truths.

Crying over these outfits. They're so right. Formal acceptance by the status quo doesn't erase our existence, or the bonds between us. We will make space for ourselves and those like us.

Oh, Archie. I understand you, too. I hope you find peace with yourself and others.

I love Sue Prado, but does the mom really deserve to be here? I'll accept them trying to extend grace to struggling parents since Grandma has been with them the whole time.

This march works though. Before it was only three of them. Now look at them.

A post credits scene! Wait, I love the idea of Juvy and Jose going to visit them!

Final Verdict: 9.5, Finally Some Good Fucking Food. I am just so relieved to have another show from JP Habac. It's clear he and his friends have such strong ideas about where queer people fit in our society today, and I love that his work is never about defeating homophobia and is instead about connecting others to queer joy. Despite how this show stirred up all sorts of old hurts in me, I feel so much love for these characters, and I'm so thankful that I can point to a show with a wide spectrum of queer experiences delivered in such a beautiful package. It's so rare to see a show treat the closet seriously, and I will be thinking about this show forever, alongside JP's previous work: Gaya sa Pelikula (aka Like in the Movies).

[idontwanttospoiltheparty]

Hot take that I've been sitting on for a bit: even if John and Paul were in love as a lot of the fandom seems to think, given the fact that homosexuality was illegal back then (and still is in many places) of course Paul's not gonna want to talk about it- and I wish people wouldn't act like he's 'lying' or whatever when he says that he's not gay, as whether he is or not is not anyone's business but his own :/

I mostly agree with this. (Though I want to make clear that I don't think speculation in of itself is an issue so long as it doesn't mix with entitlement and stays off platforms where Paul and his close ones can find it without seeking it out – that being said, it's honestly a bit funny to me when people publicly engage in this kind of speculation and then get pissy when someone simply disagrees with their conclusions.)

TBH, if it turns out it was real – in this case meaning: they were together in some capacity or there were reciprocated romantic feelings – and ESPECIALLY if this reveal happens, ahem, posthumously, I think I'll just be really sad for both of them. I already am sad for John, who I do believe was bi and must've struggled with that so much (and I do tend to think he had those feelings for Paul specifically, but I recognize that's not as cut and dry), but there's an extra layer of OOF if Paul has made it to the 2020s and the progress we've made still isn't enough to convince him it would be okay to talk about it. It could be he's just fiercely private or doesn't think it's worth sharing, but yeah…

It does feel sometimes like Paul is being held to some standard of authenticity he's expected to meet. Idk. anyone else have thoughts on this?

[dannystheone]

LEE KYLE LEE KYLE

hmmm maybe he’s tryna give one of his gay ass speeches and the 3 boys are fed up and want him to shush so ofc they use the most efficient method hehe

GAY ASS SPEECH PLLSKEFNEW

OUT OF ALL THE IDEAS I HAD REQUESTED TO ME THIS WAS THE FUNNIEST

ugh i love you anon LMAKSSK PLEASE

So the summer vibes are PERFECT today so I thought we could have a pool fic!!

WARNINGS: Feet tickles and kids swearing! also kind of a long intro sorry

Kyle's New Pool! (Lee Kyle/Multiple Lers)

Kyle got a new pool installed for the summer in his backyard, but he needs to set some ground rules first!

I hope you like this! :) also I just re-read the whole thing and totally forgot Clyde existed AAA sorry he'll be in the next one

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Energetic boys piled into the Broflovski's home, yelling and shouting with excitement. They were all eager to get a glimpse of what new installment was waiting in the backyard. Kyle had said his parents put something BIG for the summer back there, and to look for themselves to see he wasn't full of shit.

"Oh Gerald! There sure are a lot of them, I wasn't expecting so many guests!" Sheila Broflovski was pretty much plastered to her wall as boys from the fourth-grade class rumbled through her front door, including even a boy wheeling in on a motorized wheelchair.

"Just set out some more chips Sheila- OOF-" Gerald Broflovski was nearly run over by the entourage of shirtless boys as they threw open the sliding glass door in the kitchen and piled outside in the backyard.

"Look! There it is!" Craig Tucker called out. All the boys scrambled to the edge of the water. Kyle wasn't lying. His parents had installed a huge glistening pool in their backyard! The grass and playground they used to have were replaced with concrete, with pillowy lounging areas and table seating off to the sides.

"It's amazing! GAH! It's so hot out here! If I don't get in the water I'm gonna die!" Tweak Tweek winked an eye as Craig turned to him and started applying sunscreen to his shoulders, already blushing from the sun.

"Where the hell is Kyle?" Stan Marsh asked.

"Yeah, should we just get in without him?" Kenny McCormick questioned.

"TIMMEH!" Timmy answered.

"Guys! I'm right here! Isn't it cool?!" Kyle showed up behind the crowd of boys with a few boxes of Capri-Suns under his arms. The fourth-grade class cheered as Kyle set the boxes down on his patio table.

"Yeah, yeah, it's kewl, now let's get in the water already!" Eric Cartman pulled on his goggles and started pulling on his floaties to his upper arms. The boys followed suit by kicking off their flip-flops and throwing their shirts off.

"Woah, woah, woah, hang on fat-ass!" The fourth-grade boys froze and looked at Kyle quizzically. Kyle adjusted his green hat, despite wearing no shirt and green swim trunks.

"Before you get in the pool, there's some rules we have to follow! My dad said if we don't pay attention to the rules, he's not gonna let all of us use it anymore." Kyle explained. The boys looked at each other before they shrugged and continued taking their clothing items off.

"Okay well, what are the rules?" Tolkien Black asked. Kyle splayed his hands to get everyone's attention, but the boys chatted amongst themselves.

"Alright! Rule number one! ABSOLUTELY NO PEEING IN THE POOL! THAT'S DISGUSTING!! I'm looking at you, Cartman!" Cartman yelled out an "AYE!" before Kyle continued. "There is a bathroom located inside the house, first door on your right!"

Kyle looked around to see if he had everyone's attention. He had the attention of Butters, Jimmy, Timmy, and Tolkien, but everyone else was either setting up their toys in the pool or talking to other people.

"Guys! Don't put anything in the pool until I'm done saying the rules! This is important!" Kenny looked up from the pool as he slowly slid on a snorkel. Kyle sighed exasperated as he continued.

"Rule number two! No running around the edge of the pool or the pool area in general! It can get slippery and you don't want to fall! Rule number three! No diving headfirst into the pool, even in the deep area! You can hit your head and get hurt! Cannonballs are okay!" Cartman yawned loud and obnoxiously as the rest of the boys stood around and looked at their phones. Kyle could tell he was losing their attention already.

"Shut up Cartman! Rule number four! You have to put on sunscreen before you enter the pool! My mom is gonna set a timer for 80 minutes for everyone so we can get out of the pool, reapply our sunscreen, and then we can get back in!" The boys looked up at Kyle and groaned loudly.

"Dude we don't need sunscreen, the sun is good for you!" Stan complained. Craig was still helping Tweek apply his sunscreen across his back, so at least he was good. Kyle looked over at Stan with narrowed eyes.

"Dude do you have any idea how much cancer you can get from the sun?! Skin cancer is no joke! There was a study published just this year in 2023 stating that more than 2 people die of skin cancer every hour in the U.S.! 1 in 5 Americans will develop skin cancer by the age of 70! Do you want that to be you?!" Kyle pointed at Stan. Tweek fidgeted as he yanked the sun tan lotion from Craig's hands and started rubbing generous amounts all over his front vigorously.

"GAHAH! THAT'S NOT GONNA BE ME! CRAIG, HELP ME!!" Craig took the bottle back from Tweek and gently started applying more lotion onto Tweek's back as he shot Kyle a venomous glance. Kyle swallowed as he looked back at the boys.

"Dude, we'll put the lotion on. But every 80 minutes is a little much, we'll be fine." Stan shrugged. The boys nodded in agreement.

"Guys you're acting like I'm making up the rules. It's my mom-" Eric rolled his eyes and walked up to stand next to Kyle.

"Kyle, buddy, hey there. Listen, you're talking waaaaay too damn much. Let us into the pool and we can start having fun, okay? I'll deal with your bitch of a mom if she decides to give us crap." Eric clapped Kyle on the back as Kyle stared dumbfounded at Cartman.

"Bitch of a-?! Cartman this is my parent's pool that YOU'RE using, fatass! The least you can do is listen!" Kyle said angrily.

"I think we should listen to Kyle's rules, very much. His p-p-p-pee-parents are nice enough to let us use it on such a hot day." Jimmy spoke up.

"Well, sure! My dad said if I don't put on my suntan lotion every 80 minutes and get skin cancer, he'd ground me for sure!" Butters fidgeted with his hands. Kyle smiled at them both and turned back to Cartman.

"There, you see fat-boy? That's why anyone who doesn't put on sunscreen BEFORE getting in the pool isn't getting in at all!" Kyle exclaimed. The boys all stopped what they were doing and stared at Kyle and Cartman silently. Cartman cupped his chin in thought while Kyle stood next to him with his arms crossed.

"Hmm...ah, I see what you're saying, Kyle. Loud and Clear." Kyle had a triumphant face on before Cartman pointed at Kyle.

"GRAB 'EM!" Cartman exclaimed. All the boys in the fourth-grade class rushed Kyle. Kyle yelped as he was scooped up by the boys, wriggling and fighting to no avail. The boys carried him above their heads to the edge of the pool.

"GUYS! PUT ME DOWN!!" Kyle yelled out. The boys looked at each other and shrugged.

"You wanna be put down?" Stan asked a squirming Kyle.

"YES!!" Kyle shouted. The fourth-grade boys unanimously decided to set Kyle down.

By throwing his ass in the pool.

Kyle hit the water with a huge splash, causing the water to be disturbed and rippled. The boys cheered as they started jumping in after him and cannonballing into the pool. Kyle resurfaced and spit water out from his mouth.

"Pfft- GUYS! We can't be in the pool yet, we need sunscreen!" Kyle complained. Cartman waded into the pool as the boys started splashing each other with water and putting floaties and toys in the pool.

"Uh oh, guys! Kyle's still whining about the sunscreen! We better fix that!" Cartman exclaimed. Kyle turned to yell at Cartman when he felt hands grabbing his arms. Kyle turned back to see that Craig, Tweek, and Kenny started putting their hands on him. More kids were advancing as well.

"Hey! What the hell are you doing?! Get off me!" Kyle squeaked as he splashed in the pool, more kids grabbing his legs and arms and wiggling fingers into his bare skin.

"You see Kyle, I knew you were gonna make a big gay ass speech about what we should and shouldn't do before we got into your pool. As you always do such faggoty things before we're allowed to have any fun, I took it upon myself to tell the guys that if you start going off on a tangent and we need a quick way to shut you up, this was the perfect way to get it done." Cartman watched with glory in his eyes as Kyle started wriggling and giggling in the fourth-grade class's grip.

"Guhuhuys! Guhuhuys stohohohop!" Kyle giggled as what felt like hungry invasive fingers squished, kneaded, prodded, poked, spidered, and scribbled his skin. Jimmy, Tolkien, Butters, Stan, Kenny, Craig, and Tweek all zipped and wriggled their fingers into Kyle's skin while keeping his limbs spread apart. Being in the pool didn't help Kyle fight them off, and the water made his skin slick. Timmy watched with Cartman with a frown on his face.

"Uh...Timmeh?" Timmy asked. Cartman turned to Timmy, Kyle splashing in the pool behind him.

"Yes, Timmy?" Cartman asked. Timmy pulled up his phone and started recording.

"Timmy Timmy." Timmy said with an evil glint in his eye. Cartman nodded approvingly as he turned back to Kyle.

Craig held Kyle's arm away from his side and scribbled his fingers in his underarm while Tweek scritched along his ribs. Tolkien and Butters held onto Kyle's ankle and entertained themselves by stroking one finger up his foot and watching his toes clamp up. They did this over and over as it was entertaining each time.

Stan and Kenny held apart Kyle's other arm as Kenny gave Kyle little nibbles on his side and blew raspberries in his belly, which made Kyle buck and squeal. Stan scritched in Kyle's armpit while making conversation with Craig. Jimmy had Kyle's other foot all to himself. He held his ankle in the crook between his arm and his side in a headlock as he scrubbed Kyle's foot up and down with one hand. Kyle was quickly going ballistic already as 70 fingers played him at once.

"GUHUHUYS PLEHEHEASE!! THIHIHIS IHIHIS CRAHAHAZY!!" Kyle yelled out, the water splashing all around them. Kyle was floating on his back in the water being held up by the guys holding his limbs apart, so he had no leverage to squirm or escape anywhere. Kyle's eyes screwed shut as he felt fingers squish the pudge on his belly, to which he gave a loud reaction.

"Wow Kenny, you really like Kyle's stomach huh," Stan commented. Kenny shrugged and scribbled his fingers all over Kyle's tummy, reaching from the bottom of his ribs to the tops of his hips with his hands.

"Oh hey, I wanna help! Let me try!" Butters left Tolkien at Kyle's foot and went up to the opposite side of Kenny to add another ten fingers to Kyle's midsection. Kenny started scribbling his fingers in Kyle's bottom ribs while Butters dipped his fingers in Kyle's belly button and pinched his hips.

"GAHAHAHA!! NOHOHOHO!! STOHOHOP PLEHEHEASE!!" Kyle pleaded, his body getting tired with all the exertion from trying to get away from so many fingers. He was gonna have a killer six-pack in the morning.

"Aww, well he's just ticklish everywhere, isn't he! That's so sweet!" Butters beamed at Kenny while Tolkien decided to experiment and scritched his fingers underneath Kyle's knee while still pulling his leg apart. Kyle let out a loud cackle as he tried pulling his leg back.

"Hey, how's that working for you, T-T-Tolkien?" Tolkien looked up at Jimmy with a smile on his face.

"Oh, it's working great! He gets really loud when I get right here. You wanna try?" Jimmy nodded and grabbed a better hold of Kyle's leg, and started scratching his fingers under Kyle's knee. Sure enough, Kyle started pulling on both legs trying to reclaim them with this new technique.

"Hahaha, awesome!" Tolkien gave Jimmy a thumbs-up as Craig halted his tickling for a moment to stretch his wrist. Cartman pointed a finger at Craig as he sat on the steps.

"Keep going, Craig! We gotta tire the Jew out so he doesn't bitch for the rest of the night!" Cartman demanded.

"NOHOHO YOU DOHOHON'T! JUHUHUST STOHOHOP!! I'M SORREHEHEE!!" Kyle yelled out, as Craig responded in his monotone voice.

"I'm doing the best that I can. His pulling is hard on my wrist." Craig rotated his wrist before holding onto Kyle's bicep and going back to a hidden gem he found. Between Kyle's middle ribs and back where the skin joined, Craig scribbled in that one spot to make Kyle scream a manly sound. Tweek winked as he kept his tickling confined to Kyle's side.

"So anyway, Red Racer reaches the finish line right as Blue Racer does, so the judges have to go back and watch the footage to see who actually won the race. It was a nail-biter." Craig explained to Stan. Stan nodded as he listened, but mostly looked down at his super best friend getting the shit tickled out of him. He had a forced smile plastered on his face with his eyes screwed shut tightly, with an occasional pull or tug of his limbs. Stan couldn't imagine being in this situation, but he wasn't gonna be the one to stop it. What if Cartman ordered they all go after him next? He couldn't handle that.

"...Yeah, so what did the judges say?" Stan asked as he scribbled his fingers in Kyle's underarm. He noticed he didn't have to try too hard to keep Kyle's arm away from his side to reach this spot.

"We won't know until next week. I can hardly wait. Red Racer always wins every race, but it's the season finale, so it could have a different ending." Craig discussed calmly as if he wasn't tickling a wildly splashing boy with six other boys.

"Timmy? Timmy Timmy?" Timmy asked Cartman, still recording on his phone. Cartman thought about it for a moment.

"Hmm, I'm not sure. Let's see." Cartman cupped his hands around his mouth and called out to Kyle. "How you doing Jew? Ready to give up the sunscreen?" He called out. Kyle shook his head bravely as he continued to laugh out.

"NOHOHOHO!! YOHOHOU STIHIHIHLL NEEHEHEHEED TO WEHEHEHEAR IT!!" Cartman shrugged as he went back to lounging in the pool.

"You heard him, boys! He wants more!" The fourth-grade class worked diligently, their fingers more energized than before.

"GAHAHAHAD!! I DOHOHOHON'T WAHAHANT MOHOHOHORE!! PLEHEHEHEASE!!" Kyle laughed out earnestly as more spots were found on him, to in-between his thighs, to his hands, to his inner elbows, and the skin above his knees. His thighs were a winner, however. Jimmy and Tolkien pulled apart his legs and hugged his knee to grip and scribble their fingers in his inner thigh, causing Kyle to squeal and cackle loudly.

````

Gerald and Sheila watched from the closed slider door, smiling gently. It was a rare sight to see Kyle acting like a kid for once with all his friends.

"He gets it from you, you know." Gerald held Sheila around her waist while they watched their son and pattered his fingers along her side. Sheila twitched as she bat Gerald's hand away with a blushing face.

"Oh stop it, Gerald!~ Save it for Saturday, honey~" Sheila cooed as the two shared a kiss, and turned for the living room as their son splashed in the water.

````

"CHRIHIST!! SOMEONE- *hic* so-SOHOHOHOMEONE HEHEHEHELP!!" Kyle cackled out as he felt Tolkien's fingers invade his toe spaces and Tweek and Kenny took turns blowing raspberries in his hip divets. They were having fun with this, actually.

"Wow, Kyle has a lot more endurance than I thought. If I had endurance like Kyle I would be so happy." Craig commented. Stan started to get uneasy. Kyle started hiccuping a second ago, and his red cheeks were concerning.

"Alright Cartman, that should be enough right? I mean, look at him." The boys stilled their fingers for a moment. Kyle still giggled to himself and twitched from the air moving around him.

"Aww, the poor guys all tickled out. Aren't you buddy?" Butters patted Kyle's stomach, which Kyle jerked away from reflexively.

"Buhuhutters- *hic* doho-dohon't touch me-" Kyle snickered as Butters fidgeted. Cartman stood up from the pool steps and looked down at Kyle. Kyle's eyes winced having to look up into the sun-filled sky.

"Well, Kyle? What do you say? Are we forgetting the sunscreen?" The boys waited intently for an answer; their arms still wrapped around Kyle's arms and legs while the water waved around them.

"Fuck no, fat-ass! We can't forget it, my parents will find out! Please, just put some on and we can start playing!" Kyle pleaded. Cartman sighed and gave the signal for the boys to start tickling again. Kyle felt the boys' hands around him shift and place themselves on his body.

"Wait wait WAIT! Okay okay! I'll forget it! I'll forget the sunscreen I swear!" Kyle yelled out. Cartman turned back and pointed a finger in Kyle's face.

"If I hear a single word about sunscreen or rules again from you Kyle, you're gonna get it! Alright, let him go." The fourth-graders slowly released Kyle. Kyle rubbed his wrists as the boys saw their fingers onslaught over Kyle's torso, the pink swipes and scratches on his white skin. Kyle looked to the side as he rubbed his shoulder silently.

"Well, I still need to put on my sunscreen, or I'll get grounded!" Butters announced. Kyle looked up at him.

"Yeah, I n-n-need to put on mine too, a comic always has to look his b-best!" Jimmy added.

"Hey honey, mind helping me put some sunscreen on my back? I could use it." Craig asked Tweek.

"GAH! O-Of course! Skin cancer is no joke!" Tweek winked as Craig smiled softly at him.

"We're all gonna put ours on, too." Tolkien, Stan and Kenny nodded in agreement.

"TIMMEH!!" Timmy smiled and exclaimed. All the boys started getting out of the pool to put their sunscreen on and made sure everyone was properly covered. Kyle had a huge smile on that wasn't forced on his face.

"Thanks you guys, you're the best! Now we can play all we want in the sun without getting hurt!" Kyle exclaimed. The boys all cheered and cannonballed back into the pool while Cartman rolled his eyes.

````

"Aw dude, sick!" Stan shouted upon seeing Cartman at the bus stop on Monday. Cartman's face was pink with white peelies all over his ears, neck, and cheeks. He had suffered bad sunburn from the pool with no sunscreen. He rolled his eyes as he crossed his arms in a huff.

"Whatever! Sunscreen is overrated and gay as hell! I don't peel, I'll just get tan after this!" Kenny and Kyle walked to the bus stop and stood next to Cartman. Kenny burst out laughing upon seeing Cartman, and Kyle let out a few sputters as well.

"AYE! You all better shut the fuck up! I don't need any damn sunscreen!" Cartman defended.

"HE LOOKS LIKE A FAT TOMATO!" Kenny cried out. Kyle and Stan both started laughing hysterically as Cartman yelled out at them.

"I'M NOT FAT! SHUT UP!" Cartman shouted.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, we get it, you big baby." Stan rolled his eyes as he clapped Eric on the back. Eric yelped as the sunburn on his back stung from Stan's slap.

"ACK! Don't do that, retard! I got sunburn-" Cartman called out, but shut himself up as his friends leered at him.

"What was that you said, fat-ass? You got sunburn?" Kyle said with a shit-eating grin as he slapped Eric's back. Eric let out a screech as he started running down the road, away from the bus stop. Well, as well as he could run anyway. The three boys easily caught up to him and slapped all their hands across his sunburned back.

"YOU GUYS- ACK! I'M SO SERIOUSLY- OW! STOP IT- ACK! STOP!- OW!"

After this experience, Cartman learned his lesson. He was never caught without sunscreen again, and abided by all of Kyle's rules before entering his pool.

[themightymoose]

What are your plans for Branch in your au?

may I offer you my Evil Pop! Branch design?

yeah it's not very good but this is like the best thing I've ever drawn. So I'll take it. Anyways, long ramble under the cut

Let's start with his personality. Branch, while under the string's influence, is very chill and relaxed. He prefers to go with the flow and let everyone do their own thing. But he is also very smug and likes to get under people's (Poppy's) skin. He is also the lead singer of Kismet, who he considers his (cooler) brothers

Now, when he was younger, after his grandmother got eaten. He was terrified to learn that he had turned grey. Branch started to spiral, wondering how he was going to be liked by the Pop Trolls now, how his brothers would think of him. He would be an outcast! An embarrassment to them! He couldn't go to Pop Village looking like... this! Those were his thoughts before he accidentally stumbled on the Pop string. Branch hadn't meant to find it, nor did he plan on searching for it. Sure, he knew the strings existed, but he didn't really care much for the stories. He was just wandering, lost in his own thoughts

Then, he got an idea

He knew it was a stupid idea, it was ridiculous. A single string wouldn't be able to make him forget about all his problems. But he was willing to try anything at this point. He had to try. So he did. He pointed the string at himself and gave it a little flick. He closed his eyes and braced himself, expecting it to hurt, when he felt nothing, he opened his eyes, panic already seeping in again. Until he looked at his paws

He was blue. It worked

Branch quickly sprinted to the nearest place where he could see his reflection. He was colorful, and he smiled. He was perfect

Okay so one thing to know about the antidepressant string is that Branch still has way more agency than he would if he used all the strings. Like, yeah the string made him happy and gave him color, but other than that, he could basically do whatever. If he used all the strings to make himself a Pop Zombie or something, his eyes would be flat out pink. But since he only used the Pop string, he has just, like, a glint of pink in his eyes. Everyone just thinks it's heterochromia and doesn't really question it

ALSO 👏 since I headcanon Canon!Branch as autistic, Evil Pop!Branch is also autistic. And since he thinks for the longest time he would be abandoned if the Pop Trolls figured out he's actually grey, he got really good at masking. The only people who knew about Branch's autism was Kismet, and later Poppy. (ADHD queen and autism king)

I might actually make autism Branch hcs in the future

So during the first movie, the Pop Trolls actually end up getting Chef's attention because Poppy and Branch were trying to one up each other. Like, who can get the brightest lights, who can sing the loudest, etc. And during their ✨journey✨ they constantly butt heads, their arguing also ends up getting them into trouble. It isn't until their sitting in front of the campfire that Branch made that they have a heart-to-heart, and they realize they have more in common than they realize. They become much closer after that, which doesn't go unnoticed by the Snack Pack

"Wait, are Banch and Poppy... laughing? And joking together? I thought they hated each other."

"I dunno, man. A lot of things can happen during the adventure of a lifetime. Wait, is she... serenading him???"

"W H A T?????"

now the second movie... oof. okay. So yeah Branch is out stealing all the strings. But things quickly take a turn when he learns about his brothers' whereabouts. John is out living in the woods, just like it's always been for the past twenty years. He can't help but sigh as he looks at a picture of Bitty B. The youngest BroZone member, but also the cutest. He wonders what he's up to now. Just then he distantly sees a bunch of things flying over him, distantly hearing someone cackling evilly (like those things the Rock Trolls were flying in, I don't know what they're called)

Their next destination is Vacay Island, where Bruce and Floyd are currently residing. Floyd had just finished serving a customer before a familiar-looking troll swung the doors open, quickly yelling out orders to his little army to ransack the place, steal whatever they want. Bruce didn't know what was happening, he just knew he had to protect the kids. He didn't know where Floyd is, but he can fend for himself... right? He quickly tries to help Brandy gather up the kids and try to hide them. Meanwhile Floyd is hiding under a pile of floaties, through the cracks he catches glimpses of a blue troll. He looks so familiar but doesn't at the same, his hair grown out, going all the way down his back. He's wearing a Hawaiian shirt, much like what Bruce always wears. He is also pretty muscular, much more than Floyd could ever dream of being. But it's also certain mannerisms that the troll does that catches his attention. The way his tail sweeps across the ground, how he drums his foot against the ground when he's aggravated, it wasn't until he spoke that it confirmed Floyd's thoughts

Branch

Eventually they leave and set off to the next location, Bruce is calling for him. He calls back. Bruce is talking, panicked, but Floyd isn't listening. It wasn't until Floyd spoke that Bruce got quiet.

"Bitty B..."

"...What?"

"The... The leader. The one who was ordering the trolls around, telling them to ruin this place.... That was Branch."

Now it's time to pay the Putt Putt trolls a visit. Okay so I'm gonna skim over this one a little bit but let's just say they fuck up that place as well and Branch tries to kill Clay (I might make a comic about that if you peeps like the above drawing)

It isn't until the ending that he's really important. So Branch ends up capturing Barb, since she lies about being the ruler of the Rock Trolls. And then yeah they get the strings and turn everyone into Pop Zombies. And then... the reveal happens.

Branch is mortified, Riff's accusation was repeating itself in his head

"You've been using that string on yourself, haven't you?"

And he couldn't deny it, he couldn't say anything. All eyes were on him, he couldn't say some snide remark, a snarky comment, a smug or witty retort. He couldn't even roll his eyes. All he could do, was stare.

"Branch... is this true?" Peppy. Poppy's father, the ex-king of the Pop Trolls, and the father Branch never had. He couldn't bare to look at him, to see the look of disappointment and anger in his eyes, in anyone's eyes.

Then Barb speaks up

"You... can't be doing that. You can't just force yourself to be happy!"

And Branch just... fucking loses it. Who do these Rock Trolls think they are? They're trying to humiliate him, to get him thrown out.

He would not let that happen

Barb can see Branch walking over to her, his glare is dark and dangerous. She can see the crowd staring at her, Riff seems terrified for Barb's life. And she panics.

And she breaks them

The strings are gone

And everything is grey

Everything that Branch has been working for is gone. He tried so hard to be the most-loved troll in the village, to be colorful, to be perfect. It was all for nothing. And it's all the Rock Trolls' fault

and then yeah things happen and Barb ends racism :D (can you tell I'm getting tired)

And we still have the third movie :')

So y'all know for the third movie that Branch is the one that gets kidnapped and BroZone plus Poppy and Creek tag along to save him. Meanwhile Branch is sad because he thinks no one is going to come for him because he believes no one will want anything to do with him after the events of World Tour :(

oh how very wrong he is