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#people know what i used to do or what my busy used to look like. and compare me to that
dcxdpdabbles · 3 days
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If you had to pick one of your stories to redo, either a portion or change the whole direction, which one would it be?
Ohhhhh, this is a good thought-inducing question. Ironically, some of my work results from thinking, "You know what? This would be hilarious if I didn't stick to plan and went off the deep end," and creating a new AU. (How Danny's grill came to be. It was based on The Bakery is a front with the same idea of Tim being undercover at Danny's food-based business, but instead of looking for proof of lawbreaking, he's looking for evidence that Danny is not human, and the bats freaking out about it)
But I would pick Freelance Inventor just to make it all through the Justice League's POV of Batman and his mysterious lover. They talk in the break room around the water cooler about how the Robins all at one point mentioned "B's Not-Boyfriend" and wonder what that means.
The League would see the Gotham heroes casually threaten Batman by telling on him to "Not-Boyfriend" and watch the Batman actually become the "Let's not be too hasty." meme.
They watch as the crazy, controlling Batman shake his head and sigh when he notices that his calendar was changed by "Not-Boyfried" to force him to stop going up to the Watchtower for meetings and instead go to "Photograph Award show, "Zoo day with youngest" "Cook for the father that raised you, you lazy city dweller who lacks respect."
Flash screenshot of the last one because the previous day, it was marked as "Speedster training and combat counters". Flash needed proof for those who would miss the massacre about to happen. He thought that he would witness Batman drag the poor unfortunate soul to dare mess with his Calander app down to hell, and instead saw him googling British recipes because he needs to have a meal plan out now.
It wouldn't just be the Justice League- though it starts with them from founding day to well over a decade- but all hero communities would begin to hear about Not-Boyfriend.
At different times, the Robins would grumble about doing class work on the extended space trips because Not-Boyfriend would be disappointed in them. They don't care if they piss off Batman, but Not-Boyfriend's sad, letdown eyes would haunt the Robins.
These are the same people who would swing themselves at monsters who were sometimes actually gods of myth with nothing but spandex and spite.
The Teen Titans witness Robin leave with his Not-Boyfriend during the Big Fight, which eventually leads to him becoming Nightwing. They start treating Robin like a Divorce Kid. Batman is the bum dad in that situation.
The Outsiders witness Robin go from anger to a protective, gleeful Redhood when Not-Boyfriend calls to check up on him. They are all welcome to stay in Not-Boyfriend's houses—he owns many properties worldwide for his travels—and he becomes the remarkable, safe adult house. They just never speak to him face to face.
Young Justice's Robin has some serious self-esteem issues. They all sort of do as the ones the older heroes forget about. This is why when Robin shows up one day asking if they would do a random fashion blog to trick Not-Boyfriend, they jump at the chance to make a more solid identity besides the clone, the time traveler, and the daughter of Zues. Then Not-Boyfriend, whom they never met and shouldn't care about, starts sending gifts, and I'm so proud of you kids through Robin up until he becomes Red Robin, they realize he's the cooler dad.
SuperSons Robin will respect no one- not even Batman or Nightwing- as he does Not-Boyfriend. They can get him to listen and calm down after noticing his siblings using the "I'm telling Not-Boyfriend on you" trick that worked on his father.
The heroes know so much about Not-Boyfriend but know nothing. He's like Big-Foot. Everyone knows who Big-Foot legend is, but no one can prove Big-Foot.
Of course, over the seventeen years of Justice Leauge's founding, heroes would assume Not-Boyfriend was helping Batman raise his children and, for some reason, couldn't be married (The rise in heroes demanding equal marriage helped legalize same-sex marriage after a bitter sixteen-year fight).
They accept he's Batman's husband, who may be a civilian, a hero, or even a villain.
They accept that Batman and Not-Boyfriend may be divorced and share custody of the children.
They accept that Batman may not be over his partner and is still, to this day, trying to win him back.
They accept that Not-Boyfriend forgave Batman years ago and are back together.
They accept that there was never a split, and the two just argued that Young-Robins blew out of proportion.
The hero community literally accepts any theory if presented well and backed enough with suitable examples. At one point, it was a tradition of trying to decipher what was going on with Batman and Not-Boyfriend.
It's even wilder when Batman reveals himself as Bruce Wayne because he is known for not having any dates despite the number of people who have tried to fling themselves at him. He's notorious for putting a lid on his playboy tendencies- showing growth, and his new persona changed to Ditzy Dad of Gotham- back when he took in Dick Grayson, but now they know it's because he had Not-Boyfriend?
Then finding out Not-Boyfriend is Danny Fenton, the Willy Wonka-esque of the inventing world???????
This man who disappears from the public eye only shows up somewhere in a jungle with an invention that low-key solves the issue of contaminated water? This man, who freelances to anyone and everyone, things that come straight out of sci-fi without a blink?
The same man who people years ago accused Bruce Wayne of sleeping with, only to be told point black by Bruce, "I wish I was sleeping with him. Have you seen him?," and people thought he was joking on live TV?
They lose their minds.
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chaniceroses · 22 hours
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Bad Boys Ride or Die (ARMANDO X READER) PART TEN
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The ride back was extremely awkward, Kelly and Dorn never said a word since Armando was with us and Marcus and Mike debated about old things. You eventually made it to Kelly’s home, got out of the car and started walking towards it, when you noticed Kelly pointing her finger back while side-eyeing Armando. So you turned to look at him, to see him not paying attention.
“All of you can come in, except him.”, Kelly said walking into her place. You looked back at him and watched as he shrugged.
“Armando, just wait here and let us talk to her.”, you added, following Marcus, Mike and Dorn and shutting the door. 
You watched as Kelly was now pacing around, you could tell she was uncomfortable with the idea of Armando being in her home. So you scanned around, trying to allow your eyes to catch something so that you could change the subject. That’s when you noticed boxers and underwear near the couch. You thought she lived alone.
“You stay here by yourself?”you asked, pointing over to the underwear that was on the ground
Kelly and Dorn gave each other a slight look….you got them.
“We’re just friends..I mean, we’re seeing each other, you know…”, Kelly responded, trying to come up with an answer.
“We didn’t want our relationship to interfere with work, that’s why we’ve been keeping it a secret.”, Dorn explained, looking at Kelly and then at you.
Mike and Marcus looked at them with a shocked expression and then threw their hands up.
“Armando has to be with us everywhere we go, he’ll be the one to help us. Him and y/n”, Mike continued walking up to Kelly. You watched as Kelly argued back, and continued to be against it. This was going to be harder than you thought.
ARMANDO POV
I stood outside on the porch and watched the waves hit the sand. They had me waiting outside, just because people were in their feelings about me. I could hear Mike and y/n trying to convince them to let me in. I don’t need permission from anybody to do anything. So I went inside and shut her door.
They all were so busy, debating with each other that they didn’t even notice that I had walked in. Until Kelly shifted her eyes over to me. That’s when she walked up on me, pulling out her gun. I looked at her and then at the weapon that was now pointing at me.
“Well this isn’t necessary.”, I whispered, looking over at Mike and y/n.
“Chill Kelly.”, Marcus sighed.
“Kelly, I know you’re upset but he’s not going to do anything, right Armando?”Mike asked, looking over at me. He had his lips pursed out, telling me that I had no choice.
I examined Kelly and what she was wearing. A t-shirt that looked way too big for her, however, she did look fine in it. I shifted my eyes to everyone that was now staring at me, waiting for a response. Even y/n.
“Sure”, I sarcastically smiled, walking away. I kept my distance from the group to ensure that another gun wouldn’t be pulled out on me, when I noticed underwear laying on the floor. I looked up to see how close Kelly and Dorn were, they’re with each other. I watched as Kelly talked about not wanting me in her home and what I did to Howard…Same ol’, Same ol’. Until the perfect opportunity for me to create an argument between y/n and I popped up and I wasn’t going to allow myself to miss out on it.
Y/N POV
You watched as Dorn tried to calm Kelly's nerves down about Armando being in her home. She was against it but after what felt like forever of convincing, she finally agreed.
“I’ll let him stay but I’m watching you.”, she sighed, looking over at Armando.
“I want you too.”Armando responded, sitting down on a stool against the wall.
 You, Kelly, Marcus, Dorn and Mike were flabbergasted. You couldn’t help but to turn your head and look at him. What the hell did he mean he “wanted her” to?
“Look..guys he’s just kidding.”, you laughed, trying to ignore what was just said
“Armando…”, Marcus scoffed, walking towards him. You watched as he threw his hands up as a sign of “surrender” and looked at you. You turned your head to avoid eye-contact.
“Kelly, are you okay…we need you guys help. We’re a team.”, Mike continued, looking at Kelly and Dorn.
“Yeah, I am. I’m fine, okay.”, Kelly sighed, leaning into Dorn’s chest.
“Yes you are.”, Armando flirted, getting up and walking towards the group.
“Yo, what the fuck is your problem?”, Dorn questioned, turning around to face him
“Armando….”
“Seriously.” you scoffed. You were jealous at this point, you and Armando just kissed not even thirty minutes ago and he’s flirting with Kelly now. You were livid.
“Look, can we focus!”Mike yelled, while looking at everyone in the room.
“We need to figure out where McGrath is, so everyone go to the van.”Mike instructed, pointing towards the door.
You looked at Armando disgustingly and then walked outside, you could hear Marcus talking about how mad you were but you didn’t care. Who the fuck did Armando think he was? You went to sit on the porch, allowing the others to walk to the van and figure shit out themselves.
“Y/n you’re not coming?”, Armando asked, sarcastically. You remained silent, and stared as he allowed Mike, Marcus and Dorn to get on the van. 
“You can go…”, Kelly demanded, pointing inside.
“Ladies first, i’m a gentleman…”, Armando smirked, intensely staring at Kelly.
You watched as Kelly stepped onto the small stairs and went inside, when Armando gave her a fake air butt slap. Now you could feel your blood boiling, while you were shaking your legs. Until you allowed yourself to think….Breathe
“In and out,  In…out.”, you whispered, looking out into the ocean. That’s when you realized he was trying to make you jealous. To be upset and to drool over him. You knew a man with an ego like Armando, they love women over them so you quickly thought of something.
“Well, he’s always looking at me, especially when I’m talking to Mike or other men in general.”, You whispered. You looked down to see that you were still wearing the flannel from earlier. However your legs were covered. So you found yourself looking at the ocean, your top and then your jeans, repeatedly.  That’s when it hit you, you knew exactly how to beat Armando at his own game.
ARMANDO’S POV
I was inside the van, sitting against the chair that was up against the wall. Marcus, and Mike were talking to Dorn and Kelly, to help them search through Howard’s files to see if we could get anything that would lead us to McGrath. Y/n and McGrath. Y/n and McGrath. I couldn’t help but to repeat that in my head, how did he pull someone like y/n. Have to be a pervert because she’s young, around my age, so imagine back when…..nevermind.
I was so caught up into thinking about what McGrath and y/n relationship may have been like, that I didn’t even notice the van door being opened. It was y/n and she was wet. Why the hell was she wet? “Happy to see you…joining us.”, Mike whispered, looking at y/n and then down at her legs and then back at the computer.
When the hell did she take off her jeans and why were they dripping water.
“Yeah, I figured you guys would need my help?”, she smiled, walking over to Mike.
“What the hell were you doing y/n? Going for a swim?”Marcus laughed, looking down at her. I watched as Dorn slightly shifted his head down to her legs and then at me.
“No, I felt my body overheating a little bit so I decided to go to the water and wet myself a little bit, since that’s the only thing that knows how to get the job done.”, she smiled, keeping her focus on Marcus.
I watched as Marcus looked at me, then at y/n and laughed. He knew exactly what was going on.
“Armando, baby…you wouldn’t mind me sitting across from you. Just until we find what we’re looking for.”, she continued walking over. Baby, when the hell did she start calling me baby? I remained silent but couldn’t help but to observe her legs, the way the water glided down it slowly, while her skin was smooth and as silky as brown silk. She was turning me on and she knew it.
I looked up at Mike to see him slightly laughing, I didn’t find it funny at all. I could feel hot tension slowly crawling up my back while I tried to avoid y/n presence. This was going to be hard.
Y/N POV
You knew you had him, you made sure to walk over to the chair that was across from him a certain way and to throw enough water on you so that it would keep you soaked. You sat down and watched as he kept his head turnt from you. You began to act oblivious, just to stir up a conversation.
“So..Armando, how was your day?”, you asked, messing with your hair. You made sure it stayed wet, that way if you wanted to take it down and coil it, you could. You watched as he adjusted himself on the stool and turned to look at you.
“What do you mean?”, he answered, giving you a slight look and then turning back towards Mike and the rest of the group. You could see him tapping his foot, probably hoping that something will be brought up.
“You don’t mind, do you? I’m still sweating and it’s hot in this van.”. You flirted, unbuttoning the top part of your flannel that will be revealing a little bit of your cleavage. You could feel water running down it, and you know that it would be perfect to catch Armando’s attention.  And you were right, he was watching you like a hawk. So you scooted up in the chair that you were sitting in, leaned your head against the wall and slightly departed your legs open, not enough for him to see anything but just enough for him to imagine.
ARMANDO’S POV
I hate her. I hate her for the way she’s teasing and I hate her for the fact that she was beating me at my own games. I watched as she took a deep sigh and adjusted her hips forward. Her thighs were showing and her legs were slightly separating. I was turned on, and I could feel my bestfriend knocking to be exposed. However, this wasn’t the place. I needed to get y/n alone, to have her all to myself.
“Armando, you never answered my—”, before she could finish her sentence, Mike yelled at us to come see whatever was happening on the screens. 
I got up to walk over to y/n as soon as I saw her stand but she ignored me and ran towards the group. Clever move. Walking over, I could see an extreme and intense look on everyone’s faces. What the hell is going on?
“ BEHIND YOU REGGIE!!”, Marcus yelled, pointing at the screen. I turned to see a tall, black guy with barely hair and a mustache fighting off guys that were in a kitchen.
“What’s going on?”I asked, looking at each screen that was in front of me.
“McGrath’s people.”, y/n replied, folding her arms. I looked down to see her breasts pushed up together. Could it be a push-up bra? Or maybe it's the way she has her arms folded? I must’ve been staring too long because she noticed and started buttoning up the shirt that she was wearing. Damn.
We all watched intently as Reggie fought each person. One moment it was him and one person and then the next minute, it was five. By the time he was finished, the house was smoking and two women were running out the door, while Reggie soluted the camera and then followed. Had to be Marcus’s family.
“Wait, how did he know that camera was there?”Marcus asked, looking around.
I watched as Mike stood there for a second, as if he was in deep thought and hurriedly ran out the van. The rest of us looked at each other and then followed after him. 
“Mike what is?”, Dorn asked, shutting the van door.
He didn’t respond, he just pulled out a phone, punched something in and threw it up to his ear. We all just stood there confusingly and watched Mike as he kept trying to call the same number, over and over again.
“Damn it, she’s not answering.”, he sighed, looking up at y/n. I turned to look at her and watched as she looked at me back, she was worried.
“Who is he trying to call?”I was curious about why he was panicking.
“His wife, Christine.”, y/n answered looking at me and then back at Mike. We watched as he took a couple steps away from us, and called again. This time he was successful.
“Christine…baby, you need to leave…No, don’t worry about…who’s there? Shit.”, he stuttered looking over at us.
“Judy’s daughter, Callie is there.”, he sighed looking at Marcus.
“Take her and leave, some bad people may be heading your way, Christine…hello?”Mike continued. I watched as he tried to talk to his wife, he must’ve not been getting through to her. Maybe a bad connection? 
“The phone line was disconnected.”
  That’s when he quickly received a notification, it was a video. We couldn’t see what was going on but we could hear everything. McGrath and his men had Judy’s daughter, Callie and Christine. And he wanted us to transfer all of the smuggled money from Howard’s files to his, and give ourselves up for Callie and Christine.
“He didn’t give us a location…how can we find them??”, y/n asked, looking at Kelly and Dorn.
“I don’t know, we will need to use that phone so we can see if we can track him down that way.”, Kelly replied, reaching her hand towards Mike. I watched as Mike passed the phone to her.
“We can try to find them tonight, He’ll kill them if we don’t.”, Mike continued looking at all of us.
“I’m sorry Mike but you won’t find him. He’ll probably take them to a whole new location. Give Kelly and I time to go through the phone and the files to find something that will help us.”, Dorn explained.
“How long will that be?”
“Could be all night…”, Dorn replied.
“They’ll be dead by then!”Mike yelled, walking towards the shore. We watched as Marcus went after him, while y/n, Dorn, Kelly and I stayed back. He was hurt and I would be too if the woman I was married to was taken from me.
“Can you guys give us a second?”, y/n asked, turning towards Dorn and Kelly. They responded with a nod and then headed back inside.
“Armando, McGrath isn’t going to kill them.”, y/n said looking at me.
“And how do you know that?”
I was lost on how she could be so sure about him. Yeah she knew him but when it comes to holding people hostages, you treat them like rags. You never keep them for a long time and at some point you trash them.
“Because…if McGrath wanted to kill them, he would’ve done it. He never waits.”, she explained looking at me. I knew that she had a point, so I just shook my head in agreement.
“I believe the best thing for us to do right now, is to go to a hotel and rest just a little bit. Just so we can have some kind of energy for when the time comes to meet up with him. Because I’m sure it won’t be pretty.”, she explained, putting her hands on her hips.
“I agree, we should go tell him…well you should.”, I replied, turning my attention towards Marcus and Mike. They were hugging. Mike's shoulders were slumped, showing a sign of defeat.
“Well c’mon then.”, she smiled walking towards Marcus and Mike.
We weren’t too far away from Marcus and Mike, so by the time we started walking up to Mike. He was already heading back towards us.
“Mike…you don’t have anything to worry about. McGrath won’t kill them, he’s just using them until we come to him and bring Howard’s files. I promise you that…Armando and I won’t allow anything to happen to them.”, y/n promised, looking at Mike and then at me.
“Yeah.”, I responded. I allowed y/n to lead this time, trusting that she knew what she was talking about.
And if I’m being honest, this probably won’t be the last time she’ll lead. I love when she becomes dominant and takes control.
“ He’s after all of us but now we have two innocent people involved, so we all need to be focused and have a clear mind. I suggest we go to a hotel, we don’t have to stay there the whole time but just until Dorn and Kelly send us info about McGrath and where he may be located. This will allow us to clean up and get some type of rest before we go after him.”, she explained.
I watched as Mike had a face of disapproval until Marcus softly touched him on the shoulder and told him that it was for the best. Which it was, I am going to use this time to absolutely fuck the shit out of y/n and she doesn’t even know it.
Y/N POV
You could tell that Mike didn’t want to follow through with what you suggested, however thankfully Marcus was there to back you up. So the four of you headed back to Kelly’s house and explained the plans that you had for the rest of the night. It was late and you were tired so as soon as Kelly and Dorn offered to give you guys a bag filled with materials that you’ll need for tomorrow and to drop you off. You made sure that you and Armando were the first ones out of her home, that way Mike wouldn’t change his mind last minute.
The group decided to not pick a hotel that was too far, that way Dorn and Kelly would be able to automatically pick you guys up. Walking in you were met by the aroma of the smell of roses, it had to be the kind of air-freshener that was used. You allowed the boys to walk up to the counter and deal with the pay of the rooms, while you sat on the lounging chairs and listened.
“Oh shit, Mike Lowry and Marcus Burnett do you guys remember me, Jojo!!!!?”, the guy at the counter excitedly yelled. You watched as Mike and Marcus threw their heads around and scanned the area, probably making sure no one heard him say their names. Armando looked back at you and  pointed at the guy. You shrugged your shoulders in response.
“Hey Jojo, I know that it’s been forever and we would love to talk but we’re busy and tired so can you get us a room”, Mike sighed, smiling at him and then pointing at the group. 
“You four are together?”
“Yeah.”, Marcus replied, leaning his body against the counter.
“You…four..together..For real?”, he repeated, shockingly. At first you were confused on why he was acting that way but then the longer you stared at Marcus, Mike and Armando…the more you realized what it looked like. Hell the only thing you were wearing was the oversized flannel t-shirt that Mike gave you earlier.
So you decided to get up and tease Armando some more, the way you did earlier. Unbuttoning the top of your buttoned shirt, you walked over to the counter and softly pushed Armando, Mike and Marcus out the way. Allowing them to form a circle around you, while you stayed in the middle.
“You’re cute…what’s your name?”, you smirked, tilting your head slowly to the side.
“My….My…My name? Uh damn..what’s my name?”, he stuttered, slapping his head.
“Jojo…can you get our rooms or not?”, Marcus interrupted.
“Hey, don’t do that  baby, he can probably come and have fun with us.”, you flirted, turning around to Armando, Marcus and Mike. You could help but to laugh on the inside. The way they were trying to read you and figure out what the hell you were doing.
“Watch and pay attention.”, you whispered looking at Armando and then walking past him. He was livid, he tried grabbing your arm to stop you but you gently rejected him.
“Jojo is your name, right?”
“Yeah…”
“Well..Jojo, are you free tonight?”, you smirked, walking around the corner to where he was.
“Because I am…and they are too. Maybe you can join us and..I don’t know…make it..five…”, you continued, now standing in front of him. You could see his heart drop as excitement poured over his face. You grabbed the tie that he was wearing and pulled him close to you. He was now sweating.
“Um…One room…you said?”, he stuttered, examining your chest that was now exposed.
“Actually..papi, make it two, I want my own room…”
“Three....I’m not sharing a room with them, they act like children.”Armando interrupted, leaning against the counter. He was watching intensely and you knew what you were doing was bothering him.
“Can you make it three then, please Jojo.”, you begged, seductively staring into his eyes.
“At this point, give us the damn rooms for free Jojo and fix yourself.”, Marcus sighed, frustratedly.
“Yeah Jojo, you should and you should also stop by my room later, when you’re free.”, you flirted, letting go and leaving from behind the counter. You walked back towards the boys to be met by Marcus and Mike staring at you with a “girl-are-you-crazy-” look, while Armando ignored you.
“Yeah, I can most definitely give it to you guys for free tonight….Of course not because…you know..but.. You know…I know you Mike, that’s why.”, he stuttered, frantically pacing around to find the keys.
You pointed towards the row of keys that were hanging on the wall and watched as he grabbed three of them and passed them out to Mike, Armando and then you.
The four of you grabbed the keys and then walked over to the elevator and watched as Jojo followed. Mike was the first to get on, then soon the rest of you followed.
“Were you being serious?”, Jojo asked, as the elevator began to shut.
“So serious..”, you smiled, waving at him. You kept your smile as the elevator doors were slowly shutting and watched as Jojo walked back to the counter.
As soon as the doors closed, you stopped smiling and walked over towards the walls of the elevator. You threw your head back against it and started buttoning up your shirt. You felt that the room was too silent so you looked up to see Marcus, Mike and Armando looking at you.
“What?”, you asked confusingly. You knew exactly why they were looking at you but you decided to act oblivious.
“Shit nothing, that was crazy.”, Marcus laughed, walking up to you to give you dap. You returned the favor and couldn’t help but to laugh about it.
“Very much so, never thought that you would do something like that..ever.”, Mike giggled, caressing his mustache.
You turned your attention towards Armando to see him leaning against the wall while trying not to look at you. He was clenching and unclenching his jaw, causing his temples to show. While the tip of his foot was tapping against the floor.
“I mean…Armando that shit was crazy, like seriously. The way Jojo freezed when she walked up to him. He was stuttering, BAD…i’ve never seen that happen before. You did that y/n.”, Marcus smiled, while clapping his hands.
“It was bullshit!!! That was bullshit, what the fuck were you doing y/n!?”, Armando yelled, now looking at you. His eyes looked as if they were black and the veins in his throat were slowly making an appearance. 
“Ah shit.”, Mike whispered, scooting closer towards Marcus. Leaving room between you and Armando.
You looked at him and turned your focus towards the numbers that were lighting up. Your hall was coming up.
“I was just helping Marcus and Mike out, Armando…so they wouldn’t have to pay anything. And it worked.”, you explained, keeping your attention on the doors.
“She’s not lying, Armando…it worked.”Marcus supported. Mike shrugged his shoulders in agreement and then threw his hands up as a peace offering once he noticed how mad Armando was.
After what felt like forever, the doors finally opened. Allowing you, Marcus, Mike and Armando to leave. Your rooms were at the end of the hallway, next to each other. You walked up to your room and put your key through the knob, after a couple twists and turns the door finally opened and you were greeted by the  crisp, freezing temperatures of the room.
You turned around to shut it, when you noticed Armando walking into his room and then slamming the door. You won and you knew you did. It felt good to shatter his pride and to beat him at his own games. He started it and you finally finished it. Shutting the door, you ran over to your nice, fluffed out bed and threw yourself on top of it and laid there. It felt like you were being hugged by one big cloud, while you were in Antartica. You were so focused on laying down that you didn’t realize the open balcony, so you got up and walked over to it and glanced at the night sky. You were in love with the view that you had. The bright lights lit up Miami, while the ocean shore danced around freely with each other. 
You stood there for a couple minutes, then decided to go and hop in the shower since it was late. About twenty minutes passed by and you were finally out of the shower. Grabbing a towel and wrapping it around your body, you walked over to the blow-dryer that was in your bathroom and started drying your hair. When you heard a knock on your door. 
“HOLD ON!!”, you yelled, setting the dryer down while looking at yourself in the mirror. Your hair had shrunk from it being wet and you didn’t want to open the door with your hair looking the way it did, so you decided to grab another towel and wrap it.
Turning off the lights and walking over to the door, you took a quick glance at the clock that was on the nightstand and looked at the time.
“It’s one in the morning, who the hell is it?!”, you asked, walking up to the door and looking through the peephole. It was Armando. He was wearing nothing but pants with his boxers slightly showing. You could see water slightly dripping down his neck from his hair. He had just gotten out of the shower.
“Fuck.”, you whispered, running back towards your bed and then slowly walking back towards the door. 
“Jojo, baby..I’m coming. Just hold on.”, you continued, softening your tone. You stood there and waited a couple seconds and then opened the door, making sure that you had your head turned towards the balcony to act shocked to see Armando.
“Jojo, I have the balcony curtains open, so that everyone can see us..”, you flirted, opening the door and then turning to see Armando leaning against the door frame with one arm up to support his weight.
“Oh…you’re not Jojo.”, you sighed, disappointedly, walking back towards your bed. You were playing with Armando and he knew that you were. You could hear the door shutting and then steps creeping up behind you. Before you knew it, Armando aggressively turned you around and pulled you closer to him.
He was towering over you. His eyes were filled with fire, passion, and lust. You didn’t know where he was, but you knew that he wasn’t in the room with you at the moment. You watched as he leaned his head down and gave you a slight peck on the lips. A peck of permission, trying to see if you would allow him to continue on with what he wanted to do to you. So you answered, grabbing his face and kissing him as passionately as you could. You wrapped your arms around his neck as he wrapped his arms around your waist. You could feel his tongue exploring the inside of your mouth, so you explored his. Allowing  the both of you to fight for dominance, to see who would lead.
He won… you could feel his hands start to rub on your ass, when he patted it. Signaling you to jump, so you did.
 ARMANDO POV
I wanted to be inside of her, to hear her moan, cry and to be all over me. I needed her. Bad. So while we made out, I gently patted her round, firm big ass that she carries and signaled for her to jump. And when she jumped, we never allowed our kiss to break contact. Keeping it close and allowing it to get as juicy as it could. I held her butt underneath my hands and carried her to her bed. Throwing her onto the clean bed that was now about to become dirty. I watched as she kept her towel wrapped around her body and scooted towards the end of the bed.
She turned her focus towards the door and looked back at me.
“What if someone walks in?”, she asked, leaning back, allowing her forearms to support her body weight.
“Then we put on a show.”, I smirked, slowly unzipping my pants, wanting to see her become impatient.
Once I finished unzipping and unbuttoning my pants, I pulled them down along with my boxers, allowing my member to be exposed. I watched as her face went from being extremely passionate to now being slightly worried.
“Damn…Armando.”, she whispered, looking up at me.
“Big shoes..”, I smirked, climbing on top of her.
“I don’t know..I don’t think I can—”
“I’ll be gentle, I promise. We can start off slow and build up to it. You’re in control.”, I reassured, now hovering over her as she laid down. She shook her head, yes, and then allowed me to start kissing her again. I was ready.
Y/N POV
You were terrified. Never having someone that big inside of you before. He had everything, the length and the width. You felt blessed knowing that it was now yours however scared because it had been a minute since you’ve last had sex. Although, you knew that you were ready. You wanted him inside of you, to hear him beg, moan and whimper. To see him damn near cry. You wanted it all, so you started kissing him and biting him on his neck.
You could feel your towel that was once covering your body now exposing it so you grabbed it, trying to wrap it over you again.
“You’re beautiful, I don’t care about your scars, stretch marks or rolls y/n. They’re normal.”, he whispered, looking you in the eyes. 
 You were hesitant, it has been a minute since you’ve been fully naked in front of a man so you weren’t sure how he would react. However, you trusted that Armando meant what he said, so you removed your towel. You could feel his hands opening up your legs while massaging the inside of your thighs. You were getting hot and could slowly feel your clit start to throb.
You closed your eyes and allowed Armando to explore your body, you were now experiencing your thoughts about Armando coming to life but you also wanted to savor the feeling. You could feel his fingers run across your womanhood, making your hips twitch forward towards him. You wanted more of it and he caught on. So he started gently and slowly rubbing your clit in a circular emotion while leaving kisses across your chest.
“Fuck Armando…”, you moaned, your eyes were now open and you were looking up at him.
“That feels good..doesn’t it.”, he smirked, shifting his body closer towards you. He was now pressing down on it and was  picking up in speed. You could feel your heart racing and ringing in your ears, you felt yourself about to cum when he suddenly stopped.
“Not yet….”, he whispered, stopping and getting on top of you. You took a deep breath and allowed yourself to exhale, it felt good and you knew there were more to come.
ARMANDO POV
I used one of my hands to allow her head to sit up on it. I wanted her head to have as much support as it needed so she wouldn’t get hurt.
“Open…your legs.”, I demanded, kissing her in between. I felt as she separated her legs and kept her feet on the bed. I made my way down to her breast, nibbling on them while leaving hickey’s across them. She was moaning and pushing her body towards me. She wanted more. I hovered back over her and stared into her eyes, I was worried myself. I want to leave her sore but I don’t want to cause her any pain either. I must’ve gotten so lost   into my thoughts because that’s when I felt one of her hands gently caressing my cheek.
“I want you inside of me.”
GREENLIGHT ARMANDO, GREENLIGHT!!!
We kept eye-contact the whole time, as I grabbed my dick and rubbed it against her clit. Up…down…up…down, I dragged it, allowing her to get as wet as she could before putting it inside her. Once I felt it was time, I softly guided my member inside the entrance of y/n pussy and started coming in and out of her slowly.
“Ugh..fuck y/n, you feel so good.”, I moaned, putting my head in the crook of her neck. I kept going, pumping in and out….in and out. Slowing down and then slightly picking up speed. Allowing her body to adjust to me being inside of her.
“Shit Armando, faster…”, she whimpered, grabbing my back. So I listened, picking up in speed, while allowing our moans and grunts to create music in the room. I was several pumps in when we heard a knock on the door. I looked up to see y/n with her eyes rolled to the back of her head, she didn’t hear it, so I kept going and started kissing her neck. Allowing my dick to get as deep as possible inside of her. That’s when I heard another knock, this time she heard it.
“Who..who is….fuck.”, she whispered, now scratching my back. Her nails were sharp and slightly dug into my skin, however I was enjoying the pain.
I started slowing down, so that I could lift my body up to pull her underneath me some more. I grabbed her legs and hinted for her to wrap her legs around me and then started kissing the side of her neck.  I was ready to go deeper.
“Baby..somebody is at the door for you.”, I teased kissing her on the side of her cheek, while picking up my pace. I wanted to hear her struggle to talk. So I started making my strokes longer and allowed my dick to drag out slow and then back in fast.
“Who…fuck, who is it?”, she moaned, squeezing her eyes shut.
“It’s me..JoJo, I brought you flowers.”, Jojo yelled from behind the door.
Perfect, I had a perfect time for her to let everyone know who she belonged to. That she was mine, I wanted to hear her say it. Loud and Proud.
“Are we together?”, I whispered into her ear, now going crazy inside of her. I could feel myself start to twitch while my heart jumped out of my chest. However, I wasn’t going to stop, not until she said it. Instead she kept whimpering and moaning, louder and louder each time I went inside her. So I turned her around and made her get on all fours. 
“You’ll say it, before we leave here…”, I laughed, pushing her back down and lining my dick towards her entrance. I pushed myself inside of her and listened as our moans conjoined together. I loved this shit, everything about it. So I pulled away and then pushed back in, while holding on to her hips. Allowing me to be in control.
Y/N POV
You were seeing stars. You could feel him inside of you and it made you feel good. Everytime you thought he would slow down from hitting it from the back, he would pick up speed.
“Say it.”, he moaned, now slamming into your body. You were stubborn. You wanted to see how long you could go with hearing him beg about you being his. So you allowed your whimpers to be your response. 
So he kept going, faster and faster but this time, you could feel his hand rubbing your clit. He was finding his rhythm and once he did, he mastered it. In and out, in and out while he rubbed on you.
“Y/n… are you mine?”he asked again, pulling your body up against his chest and now, slightly choking you. 
“FUCK ARMANDO!!!”, you yelled, putting his head between the crook of your neck and allowing him to kiss your shoulders.
“You feel so good y/n..”, he whined, still massaging your clit while pumping inside of you. 
You were slowly building up inside, you could feel it. The next stroke he does would be over for you, but you didn’t stop him. 
“Shit…say it.”, he grunted, roughly grabbing your body and hugging you closer to him. You could feel him twitching inside of you. He was about to cum.
“I’m yours Armando, baby, I’m yours.”, you moaned, you could feel your body begin to shake but he didn’t stop. 
“Good girl.”, he replied, still going until he released, which was soon after.
“Fuck y/n…te sientes tan bien, te sientes tan jodidamente bien….”, he repeated, massinging your breasts while leaving soft kisses across your back. You turned around to look at him, his eyes were closed and you looked down to see his dick still twitching. 
“Come here…”, you whispered, getting up off the bed. You watched as Armando stared at you confusingly until you pointed towards the balcony.
“Seriously?”, he smiled, wiping the sweat off his forehead while getting out of the bed. You observed Armando’s body as he walked over to you. His broad shoulders stuck out to you the most, and the way his muscles would always make an appearance over the smallest thing…it turned you on. 
“Sit down.”, you demanded pulling out the chair that was near the table. He sat down and opened his legs, watching you kneel down in front of him. His eyes were dark and he was watching your every move.
You grabbed his dick and allowed your tongue to meet it for the first time. Licking up the fluids from both his and yours body while slowly stroking it, up and down. You could feel him shift his hips so that he could be more comfortable in the chair. He was slowly moaning and had his head leaned backwards. He was relaxed so you licked the tip of it some more and started gradually sucking it. Allowing it to touch the different barriers of your mouth.
You could feel him slowly growing again back inside of you so you started sucking harder and then used your hands to gently twist. His moans were gradually getting louder and louder as you picked up speed. Bobbing your head up and down to allow him to get inside of your mouth some more. You took your focus off of his member and looked up to see him clenching the arms of his chairs, while tears streamed down his face. His eyes were closed, which means that he was deep in the moment, so you stopped. Which led to him opening his eyes and begging you to finish but you ignored him.
You climbed onto Armando while he helped you put your legs through the chair. Wrapping one of your arms around his neck while grabbing his dick to aim it under you. It took you a couple tries to find the entrance but once you did, you quickly slid down onto it  which led to you and Armando moaning in unison.
“FUCK Y/N.”, he grunted, grabbing your ass to try to take control.
“Not this time.”, you smirked, slapping his hands, and putting them back on the arms of the chair. You put your hands on top of his so that you could be dominant this time. You wanted to see him beg and cry for you to stop.
So you started bouncing up and down slowly, while moving your hips forward and backwards so that the both of you can feel it. To feel the both of you inside of each other, for the both of you to become one.
You were teasing him and he knew it, so you started to ride him faster each time he whimpered. The way you held his hands down so that he couldn’t grab you felt like a power move on your end. However, for him, not so much. Though it felt good to him, he felt like he was being sexually tortured. Not being able to grab you felt like a crime to him but all he could do was moan.
“You look so good while whimpering Armando…”, you teased, picking up speed. You could feel him try to snatch his hands away but you continued to hold it down while you rode him.
“Ugh..i’m sorry..please..”, he whimpered, trying to throw his hips upward towards you.
“No baby, it’s my turn…you’ve been bad, baby…..”
“Ha,,,fuck…”, he tried to laughbut could only throw his head back.
You took that as an opportunity and started kissing his exposed neck, leaving hickey’s across it. You could hear him mumbling in Spanish which encouraged you to go faster. So you did.
“Fuck Armando!! You feel so good, cum for me.”, you yelled, now bouncing up and down uncontrollably. You watched as tears were streaming down his cheeks again, as he continued to moan.
You decided to let go of his hands and allowed him to wrap them around your waist. You were both now chest to chest while he had his head buried into you, allowing you to ride even faster and to cover his head with your hands. When you both finally released, allowing the both of you to be covered with each other juices. You stopped riding and Armando started pumping the rest of his energy out into you. His accent sounded heavier and he was speaking in his native language. You couldn’t help but to admire the way he looked while he held onto you and mumbled to himself.
There was silence between the two of you afterwards, allowing the sound of nighttime Miami to surround the both of you guys. You leaned your head down to kiss him on his forehead then tried to get up, when he pulled you back down.
“What Armando?”, you laughed, wrapping your arms around his neck.
“Nothing..I just want you to sit here with me, that’s all.”, he smiled, looking at you and then leaning in for a kiss. You responded back and softly gave him a kiss on his lips. 
“I am yours now, Armando, and I mean it. I hope you feel the same way too.”, you whispered, looking at him. You could feel yourself start to blush; you were done with games. You knew that you wanted to be with Armando, and you were hoping that he still felt the same.
“I do y/n…I do… I belong to you."
127 notes · View notes
singukieee · 1 day
Text
—my all time favourite bts fics (pt. 1) ᯓᡣ𐭩
consists of my personal favourite bts fics that I've read countless of times. including those from other platforms, such as Wattpad, AO3, and Patreon.
For some works that are cross-posted between tumblr and wp/ao3, I'd only link them to the latters bcs I find it easier to read and navigate the stories on those. but I also tagged all the authors I know are here and linked the rest so you can check their blogs out yourself!
I'll also separate this list into several parts simply because there's too many... So it'd be easier for you guys to navigate!
red means unfinished
blue means finished
🗯️ editor's note
(sorted by alphabetical order)
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A Place Called Home by @agustdakasuga
Having saved your own injured hybrid, you were determined to try and help any other hybrid that crossed your path who needed saving. But being a vet in a small hospital wasn’t enough for you. You wanted to do more, you wanted to make a difference. You wanted to give them a home.
Accidental Friends by Erakun06
Meet Bangtan, international superstars, the pride of South Korea, the love and hope in the dark of many lives, the role model and celebrity crush of so many people, and a group of people you often stumble across in your day to day life. You become acquaintances, slowly become friends, and- that's it. You are in a platonic friendship with Bangtan. Let me say it again. clears throat PLATONIC. Or One day, you meet a member of Bangtan, the next day, another, and another, and another, and one day, they become a group of people you often stumble across in your life. They become your acquaintances. Then your friends. Then your source of comfort, just like they are the source of comfort of millions of people in the world. What you didn't expect is that you become the same to them. It's inevitable. You are friends.
🗯️ a theme that I don't find much of, and this one was excecuted quite neatly I'd say
Ace For Hire by tokki-maknae
Who is Ace? Besides being the deadliest hitman on the market in the underground, whose really under the hood? The answers simple, well for you at least, because you are Ace. When you're not busy blurring yourself into the background noises of school, you were making a killing in the underground, both literally and figuratively. For years now Ace has become an infamous name among the other gangs and holds the reputation of being lethal and untouchable. But that all changes after a slip up that causes you to attract the unwanted attention of one persistent seven member gang. A gang that's been dying to know, who is Ace?
🗯️ badassss
At Your Service by @untaemedqueen
In which Yn is looking for an escort to accompany her to her nightmare ex and ex best friend's wedding, only to ended up falling in love with him.
Baby (you complete us) by @purpleyoonn
Soulmates were a common occurrence, so common, in fact, that the world sought an easier way to find your other half: A bracelet that would scan your mark and match you with those who shared your mark. Within recent years, soul groups were becoming normal, and your own bracelet said you have seven matches. Or where you wear your bracelet for ten years, and finally give up the hope you would find your soul group, only for BTS to put theirs on and see what they were missing.
Back Home by AlexLorchan / @alexlwrites
Secretly, he was selfishly hoping that you didn’t age well. Dealing with a small crush was easy enough when he was young and knew next to nothing about girls, when you were just a cute albeit slightly weird girl he had a soft spot for. But he wouldn’t know what to do with himself if his feelings came back with a vengeance while you were living together. God, he would probably lock himself with Jungkook until you went away. OR The one where, after living abroad for years, you move back to Korea and your old high school friend Namjoon offers you his place to stay while you get settled, casually forgetting to mention that: a) he still had a massive crush on you. b) he lived with six other guys.
🗯️ crack fic! my fave category and this one makes me giggle in both funny way and butterfly-in-my-stomach kinda way
Beauty of Love by @imnotlauriane
When you cross eyes with your soulmate, you get flashes of memories that have yet to happen. You can't see the same memory as the other and it can be either good or bad. It's not always terrible, but a thing is for sure. No matter what you do, it will happen. But are things always what they seem to be?
Between The Bloodshed series by @agustdakasuga
🗯️ this series... I just love. plot is super neat, relationship doesn't feel forced, etc etc
❶ Between The Bloodshed
Being a freelance doctor, this was just supposed to be any other job, helping a private client and taking care of him through his recovery. But you were not expecting to get caught in something so much darker that you would have to leave your life behind and build a new one.
❷ Everything Between Us
They left you hanging, they broke your heart. You didn’t get your happily ever after. But now they’re back and they’re searching for you to make things right. Could you look past the betrayal to take them back into your life and back into your heart?
Beyond The Stage by Alysheart
Alexis was going through the days simply. She was a college student in Florida, working towards her degree. When she scored tickets to the BTS concert in Korea, she didn't hesitate. She never expected to be soulmates with the seven idols.
Bound by Blood by PurpleQueenie
In a world where vampires and humans have to co-exist, where the line between tolerance and animosity blurs, how can you ever expect to get your happily ever after when your soulmates hate your very existence?
🗯️ love all the details, the slow burn, gosh just so good
Boyfriend For Hire by @remedyx
Unsatisfied with your life was an understatement. Being under the thumb of your father can have that effect. He wanted someone capable of running the company, but you wanted to pursue your passion. Countless unwanted blind dates and the threat of losing your freedom drives you to seek help from a group of individuals you'd least expected.
Breakthrough by Alphathyx
"My dreams haunt me like past memories that never existed" The Memory Dive, an invention that allows the user to dive into anyone's memories just from the collection of their DNA. Made by Professor Kim Seokjin, he created this device for the worlds secret service to solve mysteries that the ordinary field agents are unable to. With seven agents, ranging from ex military, to a university professor, college student and even a criminal, only these seven are able to use this machine to extract memories of others. They are also the only people that know how to escape it. Discover through their eyes of uncovering the darkest truths of the world, through the minds of victims.
🗯️ this one's super neat plot with complecated and technical world, just so good
Bright Colors and Loud Soulmates by Mostmouse
You resented soulmates, the whole damn concept. It just wasn't your thing, and you couldn't help but feel jealous of those who were born without soulmates, who could see the world as it was intended to be from birth. When you run into your soulmate, you're determined to stay in your own sphere of the world. Focusing on you. But, because nothing is simple in your life, it turns out he's one of seven - better yet, your seven soulmates are the globally famous band BTS. Because why wouldn't they be? OR you learn how to let your soulmates past your carefully crafted walls, and they’re more than happy to show you what a loving and supportive relationship should look like.
🗯️ a funny and cute one! (with extra h0rny characters lol)
BTS Office CEO AU by @jiminiesfavouritecolourisblue
You work for seven CEOs who have called you into their office due to a complaint
Can't Wait To See You Again by AlexLorchan / @alexlwrites
The one where Jungkook develops a huge crush on a Youtuber he found after falling into the rabbit hole of his recommended videos. Unbeknownst to him, you were also recommended to his hyungs. Unbeknownst to you, all across the world seven idols were slowly falling in love with you.
🗯️ I just love the concept of the boys being fanboys :3
Choco Bun by @nunchiimagines
When you moved to Korea after finishing college to continue pursuing latte art and baking, the last thing you were expecting was to open up your very own coffee shop under BTS Corp, Korea’s biggest entertainment service company for idols, models, singers, and more. Thanks to your hard work, creativity, and approachable personality you managed to become friendly with some pretty big named individuals as well as up and coming talent. As exciting and fun as it was for you, you slowly began to realize how much your 7 bosses weren’t particularly fond of this, acts of jealousy, pettiness, and aggression poking through in the most unsuspecting of ways. But what could 7 big named dragons want with a little foreign bunny?
Combined Beings by @numinousher
You are bullied on a constant because korea’s beauty standards do not fit girls on the heavier side. the bullying gets worse once a ceo is attracted to you and he mentioned you to the other 6.
Hybrids have been introduced into society for a handful of years now, the fighting for their rights is still happening but doesn't look promising. But when one girl finds a hybrid in danger she jumps at the chance to help, yet what she didn't know was how upside down her life was about to become. But a word of advice, not everything is as it seems.
🗯️ minus the bullying elements, this story is like a comforting sweet cloud
Comfort by http-lostforever
Could We Be Together Someday? series by BTS_Mommy / @babyboy-bangtan
🗯️ mann Idk what to write lol. this is another one that I've re-read thousand times, bcs some of the boys started as fanboys then became clingy friends. also yn's so supportive I just lovee.
❶ By Chance
A misunderstanding gone viral puts you on BTS's radar, which leads to a series of events that finally culminate with you meeting them for the first time.
❷ The Moments in Between
As you become close friends with BTS, you begin to realize that the feelings you have for them are slowly turning into something you're not ready to deal with. Unbeknownst to you, the same is happening to them.
Crave by sweetinsanityy
The boys don't do well with being controlled, but for their group, they'll bite their tongue and put on a smile for management. Yet when you, a new little rookie, stumble upon them, they're like a pack of hungry wolves. Or, the boys are all Doms and they want you to be their perfect little sub.
Cursed Fate by PurpleQueenie
The universe has designed soulmates- someone that completes you. But what happens when you don't have one but seven? And all you want to do is run in the opposite direction when you see them...
🗯️ queenie's stories are just so good, you should check them all out! this one also has such great details and writing.
Deep Down by sleepingbearandbunny
Jae, unlike everyone else, has nothing against the hybrid species. She likes being alone, where she is safe from ridicule and her controlling father. When a group of hybrids save her from some trouble, fate brings them together once more.
🗯️ a harsh and complecated world this one, so they went through a lot together and I love that!
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PART 2 | PART 3 | PART 4 | NAVI
126 notes · View notes
twice-inamillion · 18 hours
Text
The Company 
Double Life
Fluff and Angst (Dark theme)
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Chapter 12
1735 Words 
(Company OC lives his everyday life, taking care of his business and ensuring everything runs smoothly. He has a soft spot for Mina, being his first recruit as the CEO. He also cares for trainees like Nayeon, who are as important as anyone else. Running a business is hard work, and sometimes you must get your hands dirty to ensure everything runs smoothly.)
After arriving from San Francisco, you went straight to work. Setting up an acting division within the company seemed easy, but recruiting talent was the most important part.
Luckily, the company executives took care of recruiting personnel and coaches while your main focus was on selecting actresses. 
While you look at some actress profiles, you get briefed on what you missed last week. IU mentions that rumors about the acting division have been circulating since someone, a well-known actress, visited the company. Officially, nothing hasn’t been confirmed, but you knew this was bound to happen. 
“We’ve been receiving many inquiries from trainees, asking if they can audition for a position in the new acting division.”
”Damn, what do you think? Should we open the recruitment to the trainees?”
”That’s up to you, sir. You mentioned you want to get some well-known actresses first, so maybe you should focus on that.”
”You’re right. Once we’re settled, we can think about expanding it to the rest.”
Also, while you were away, the trainee, Mina, stopped by. She mentioned that she wanted to see you.”
”Oh, okay. I’ll get in contact with her. Thanks Ji-eun.”
——
There is a knock at your door, and you see a silhouette, “It’s me, Mina.”
”Come in.”
Mina slowly opens the door and walks inside, “Good morning.”
”Good morning, Mina, how are you?”
”I’m okay. I didn’t know that you left abroad.”
”Oh, I’m sorry. I forgot to tell you. Did you need something?”
”No, I just haven’t seen you, so I came to stop by.” 
“Aww, that’s nice of you. Come and sit down.”
Mina takes a seat on the couch and stares at you. 
“How’s it going with your training?”
”It’s going well. I still have a hard time talking to all the girls, but I’ve gotten close to Momo and Sana.”
”That’s great. It's nice to see that you have someone to talk to.”
”They speak Japanese, so it’s easier for me. I just wish I didn’t get nervous.”
Don’t worry about it. People are naturally going to come to you based on your personality. You’re a really sweet girl.”
Mina’s ears get a bit red, and you find it kind of cute. You can’t help but see her as a younger sister, someone to protect.
”Oh, by the way, your parents sent you a package,” you say as you stand up and get the box that is on the other side of the room. 
“Oh, what is it?”
”All they told me was that you had to open it before it goes bad.”
Mina picks up the box and places it on the table. You hand her an envelope cutter and opens the box, “Aww, they sent me my favorite snacks.” She grabs one of the snacks and hands it to you, “Here, try it.” 
You try the bag of Skittles she gave you and share some with her. You can’t help but smile as you see her show her gummy smile. “Do I have something on my face?”
”No, it’s just that it’s nice to see you so happy.”
Mina’s ears turn red from your comment, “It’s just that these are my favorite, plus my parents sent them, so it makes it more special.”
”You’re right. Let's send something to them as well; what do you think?”
”Really?”
”Yeah. You don’t want to?”
”No, I do.”
”What do you want to send?”
”Umm, maybe some bread?”
”That sounds nice. Do you have an idea of where we should buy it?”
”Umm, there is a bakery that they used to take me to when I was little.”
”That’s nice. Let’s put in an order and have it delivered to them.”
”Are you really going to do it?”
”Yeah.”
Mina goes towards you and gives you a hug, “Thank you so much, Oppa.” It only takes a few minutes for her to realize what she did, and she steps back, face completely blushed, “I’m sorry, I just reacted without thinking.” 
“Don’t worry about it, it happens.” 
The two of you end up talking a bit more before Irene interrupts you two, “Sorry, I didn't know you had someone with you, sir; I’ll come back.”
”It’s okay, I was leaving anyway. Thanks, Oppa.” Mina waves goodbye and exits your office, leaving you and Irene to discuss important matters. 
———
You finish your evening run and go to the nearby cafe by the company building. Coming out of the cafe, you see one of the trainees standing in front of one of the gates that lead to the campus buildings. From afar, you can see they are pacing back and forth like they are waiting for something. You see a person cross the street and walk towards the trainee and wonder what’s going on. 
They seem to be talking to each other when you see the person, who seems to be an older man, grabs the trainee by the arm. The trainee struggles and tries to let go and yells, “Let me go!”
You exit the cafe and walk towards the street, trying to get an idea of what’s going on. As you walk closer, you see Im Nayeon, one of the transfer trainees from JYP. “She said to let her go” as you grab the man’s arm.
”This has nothing to do with you, so let me go!” shouts the older man.
”It does; I’m responsible for her, so I’m going to ask you to stop bothering her.” 
“Nayeon, tell that man that I’m not bothering you.”
You turn and see Nayeon frozen, unable to say a word.”
”Come on, sweetie, tell this man to not treat your father this way.”
”You… you’re not my dad.”
”Don’t be like that, Nayeon; of course, I’m your dad. I’m the one who raised you and your gold-digging mother.”
”Don’t call her that.”
”Well, she is a gold-digging whore. She’s been asking me for money and forcing me to support you.”
You can tell that Nayeon is getting upset by this whole situation and asks, “Nayeon, do you want this man here or not?”
Nayeon shakes her head, “No, I don’t want him here.”
”See, she told you to leave; now go before I call the police.”
”Fuck you, let me go. Nayeon! Listen to me; I’m going to get my money back, one way or another!” 
You grab the man’s arm and push him in between toward the sidewalk, “Go or else it’s going to go worse for you,” telling him in a serious voice. 
“Fuck! This doesn’t end here!”
Turning around, you say, “Nayeon, are you okay?” She doesn’t respond and is frozen from the encounter. You grab her hand, lead her to a private area, and sit on one of the benches, “What happened? Why did that man say he was your dad?”
”He… he’s not my actual dad but my mom’s ex-husband. He’s been harassing us ever since my mom broke up with him.”
”Did you try calling the police?”
”We did, but they wouldn’t do anything. He just wants us to pay back the money he spent on us.”
”What a douchebag.”
”It’s one of the reasons why I decided to join JYP; I thought I could earn some good money after debuting, but that hasn’t happened.”
”I’m sorry to hear that, but I've heard from your coaches that you’re one of the top trainees in the group.”
”How does that help me now? I was supposed to help my mom and get us away from that man.” Nayeon begins to cry, upset at her current situation.
”Everything is going to be okay,” you say as you try to comfort her. 
“I’m sorry you had to see me cry; I’m so embarrassed, especially since you’re the company's CEO.”
”There is nothing to be embarrassed about,” you say as you caress her head. It takes her a while to calm down, but after settling down, she asks, “Is there a way I can work part-time while still being a trainee? I just want to pay that man back so he can leave us alone.”
”You don’t have to do that; just focus on your training. I’ll try to contact your mom and see what we can do to ensure he doesn't bother you again. Nayeon agrees, knowing that she can’t do anything in her situation. Jeongyeon and Jihyo appear a few moments later after receiving a message from Nayeon earlier. 
You head back to your office and look for one of your family’s contacts, a friend who can help you in these situations.
”Hey, Don, It’s me. I have a bit of a situation going on.
”……”
”Let me send you the info.”
”……”
“Let’s make this as discreet as possible. I don’t want it causing problems anymore.”
————
Nayeon’s former step-father walks out of the gambling club after losing his month’s earnings. Defeated, he cuts through the alley, trying to return to his cramped apartment after getting kicked out of his house. ‘Fuck that gold-digging slut and her daughter, stealing my hard-earned money. Throwing me like some trash after supporting them for so long. 
Covered by the darkness comes out a figure, “Hey man, it’s been a while.”
”Do I know you?”
”No, but I know you.”
The former step-father is too late to realize and falls to the group. He only sees a vague silhouette of a figure standing before him in the dark alley, “Who are you?”
”No one, I’m just here to take care of someone who’s been causing trouble to my employer. They send their regards.”
There’s no response, only a man lying on the cold, dark floor in an unknown alley. 
Don takes out his phone, calls his employer, “It’s done,” and clicks it. 
The door of a black van opens, and multiple men step out and carry the man lying on the floor. They toss him inside and shut the door before leaving the alley like nothing happened. 
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judesmoonbeauty · 2 days
Text
Black Wedding: The True Vow For A Jet-Black Bride - Elbert Greetia
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CW: Brief mention of cannibalism.
Fan translation only. Not 100% accurate. Please expect grammatical errors. Cybird owns everything. Feel free to re-blog, but please do not post my translations elsewhere. What I obtain is what will be translated. If other blogs have translated the stories before I do, I will notate their blogs. Thank you, for you support! ☾.
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One church by the sea was overflowing with attendees.
A traditional, solemn, aristocratic wedding ceremony that I could feel the tension in my fingertips.
(I know it’s a given considering Elbert’s family background, but I’m nervous……)
I sighed at the amount of attention I was getting,
(But Elbert has always lived a life where this is the norm.)
The several gazes that I feel next to him will be felt more in the future.
As I was listening to the pastor, for some reason he kept looking at me.
Kate: ……Elbert? You’re not looking forward.
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Elbert: Oh, sorry……
He whispered with a grim expression.
(…..Maybe you’re trying to be careful not to step on shadows because of the many people here.)
He is kind and is very conscious so as not to step on shadows, no matter who he is dealing with.
(Shadows are now growing into the aisle too.)
One wrong move and he’ll evoke someone’s saddest memory on this happiest day.
(Okay, I’ll guide Elbert so he doesn’t step on any shadows until we exit!)
When I was determined to protect his kindness -
Pastor: Do you swear?
I responded with full force to the vow, which was over before I knew it.
Kate: I do.
Elbert: …..I do.
The moment I said it out loud,
Kate: What!?
Suddenly, he picks me up and my body floats in the air.
Kate: Elbert!
I was confused, as we were leaving the church -
Kate: Ah……
The attendees took advantage of the confusion stretched out their hands, casting shadows on the aisle.
(No……!)
When I tried to hit their hands,
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Elbert: ….Al.
Alfons: Yes, yes. That’s exactly like you……
Alfons who popped up from the pews, slapped their hands away.
Elbert: ….I don’t intend to be touched by anyone but her for the rest of my life.
He gave the attendees the cold shoulder.
Elbert: And I will never forgive anyone who hurts…..Countess Greetia.
He left the church with me in his arms.
He gently lowered me onto the sandy beach and I look him in the face.
Elbert: I’m sorry……for bringing you here on my own without asking, for your opinion…
Elbert: You’re so beautiful, I couldn’t wait any longer…….
I felt a kiss on my left ring finger, and the tension I had felt earlier began to dissolve.
Kate: Frankly, it’s a bit of a relief.
Elbert: ….Why?
Kate: I was nervous…..because I’ve never been in the spotlight like that before.
Kate: It seemed like you were trying to be careful not to step on any shadows.
Taking a breath, he tilts his head.
Elbert: I didn’t have time to worry about stepping on shadows of the attendees because I was too busy looking at you….
Elbert: I just wanted to be alone with you as soon as possible…..I just wanted the ceremony to be over.
The deep ocean-colored eyes that reflect only me, love rushes into my heart and dives into my chest.
Holding me tightly he starts speaking into my ear.
Elbert: …..Now, why don’t we have a ceremony, just the two of us?
Kate: Hmm…so nice to have another wedding.
Elbert: I’d be happy to hold the ceremony as many times as you’d like, as long as you’re willing…….
Elbert: Wearing a different dress each time……..saying your vows over and over.
I looked up when his hand loosens around my back and our gazes meet.
Elbert: Countess Greetia, Kate.
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Elbert: If you die first…..I’ll swallow you up from your toes to your hair…..
Elbert: After we become one…..I’ll follow you.
Elbert: ……so that not even death can do us part.
With the curse of the greedy Queen.
From the moment he loved me, my destiny was sealed.
Elbert: I love you…..and this feeling will never change.
Kate: …….I love you, too. Only you forever.
Unable to withstand the force of him taking my lips, they both fall into the shallow water.
Elbert: …..I want to be with you all the time, no more duties or work.
Kate: Heh,…. I feel the same way.
I close my eyes, and envision the future while overlapping lips.
The future of living in a beautiful bird cage created by his love.
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[Black Wedding Master List] Tag list: @theimaginativelyreticent
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fuck-customers · 2 days
Note
I'm the anon who sent in an ask abt accidentally co-ordinating a mass call out, saw a lot of ppl wanting the know the aftermath so here's your updoot :>
All 3 of us did end up calling in (during the early morning, so we never had to directly talk to our boss, but the manager on at the time) plus another random 4th person, who wasn't apart of the original group and is just a regular sickie chucker. When my boss did see the emails that morning, he came to my station and had a mini freakout/breakdown to the opener. Ended up not being able to cover the midshift with a proper staff member who works in our department, so no prep was done or topped up all day; the opener was in on what we were doing and also didn't like the staff on that night so her attitude was very much 'sounds like a them problem'.
From what I heard of the close, it went about as well as I expected; a massive shitshow. The one coworker who I really don't like our of the 3 stooges ended up being forced into doing the close, and boy did she fuck it up. That next morning the place was a total trash heap- with shit still being dirty, equipment not being turned off, and just looking like crap in general. According to another coworker who was there briefly it wasn't even bc she was busy, she just never bothered to even START her closing duties or clean and let everything build right until the end. The opener was so mad they went and got my boss to come down and look at the place the morning after and he pulled lazy coworker into a meeting about it that night, saying there was no reason she had to stay back an hour past her clock out time and still leave the place looking like a dump. I had to work with her that next night and she was being really passive aggressive to me abt it, kept saying things like 'yeah it was so bad, if only SOMEONE didn't call in on us' (like get fucked, maybe if you didn't suck I wouldn't have had to prioritise my mental health).
There was an hour wait time basically all that night (something that shouldn't have happened, I saw the sales the from the night and it wasn't even that bad, they're all just that slow) and a shit ton of people complained about either not receiving their food, or the food they did get being cold/not cooked properly. The managers on that night had to get called over a bunch to do a lot of voids and refunds. One of my regulars who was in that night said things didn't even look busy, the person on close just spent more time leaning around or freaking out then actually doing anything.
As for myself and the 2 others who called in, we all had a really good day off. The midshift was telling me how they spent the day relaxing and even got themself a little spa day, I ended up catching up on some chores work had severely pushed back and the other chick just relaxed at home all night. No one walked out and the place didn't burn down, so it's a little anti-climatic ik, but oh well. Good day for us, not so good for the others :3 It was nice at least that they got a taste of what we have to deal with whenever they're on.
Posted by admin Rodney
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andy-wm · 2 days
Note
his “coming out” should not be in any way shape or form be connected to jungkook. idk why you shippers can’t leave them tf alone when they’re not dating ffs.
[Select.font=sarcasm]
Oooh I am so glad you came here to tell me this, Anon! You are clearly well informed on both Jimin’s life, and "coming out".
I didn't even know that "coming out" needs to be in inverted commas. Thank you for helping me understand.
I also didn't know what his "coming out" should or should not be! I didn't know there were rules for "coming out"! I'm so grateful to have this information now.
I hope you've also told Jimin how he should "come out"?
I hope he listens to you since obviously, you have his happiness at heart.
Because "coming out" with no significant other to support him - and facing the inevitable repercussions alone - that would DEFINITELY make things better for him, right?
Also we all know how much Jimin LOVES being alone, so naturally we should wish that for him.
Objectively, he would be happier if he was single I guess? Because having a secure and healthy long term relationship with someone who loves and supports you is known to be pretty shit. Makes sense... that's why nobody looks for love. They certainly don't write songs about love.
Ever.
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People aspire to being isolated, like Jimin showed us this with his song Serendipity.
When he sang "just let me love you" he probably meant he wanted to be single and live alone forever in his bubble. That makes sense.
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And of course they aren't dating!
You're right, there's absolutely nothing special between Jimin and Jungkook. They are 100% platonic and good pals.
It would be ridiculous to look at them and see love and intimacy.
I dont know what love looks like, but this is not it...
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Definitely not this either.
Just friends here.
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So friendly!
Brothers even!
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Keeping to the bro code here too, 100%
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Absolutely no crossing of boundaries here....
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I always caress my friend's clothes when I sing their own love song back to them. Especially when my face is less than a foot from their face. It's very platonic.
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Anyway, there's no reason to think they might be dating.
Why would people even think they COULD be?
It's unimaginable.
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Society has never ignored or dismissed loving romantic relationships between same-sex couples, and that's certainly not what you're doing. Not at all. You just know they aren't dating because ... reasons.
I'm sure you don't object to Jimin being gay because that would be homophobic (you even know how he should "come out"). If that was the case you might as well just get a tattoo of an L on your forehead and throw away all your Jimin merch because our boy is gayer than a rainbow cake. Gayer even than the rainbow cake his appa has *always in stock* in his coffee shop in Busan.
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And if you generously tolerate his gayness, i imagine you will allow that one day he could date (definitely not now, because he probably has no interest in sex. He's too busy working and anyway he has ARMY to love him) yeah, but not now please.
But one day he could have a nice boyfriend who sits beside him on the sofa and smiles benignly and holds his hand like a good boy.
Definitely NOT one that sings about fucking night after night seven days a week, or watching in 3D, or DEAR GOD... the imagery... champagne confetti.
Not someone who sings Sam Smith songs on his Live, or who goes around whacking off fire hydrants in his music videos or miming blow jobs on national tv.
Not someone that demands you see him as an adult who enjoys adult things and wont accept your judgement of him. Not one who puts boundaries in place.
Not someone who (the audacity!) lies in bed naked and begs Jimin to come over.
And that brings us to the villain of our story:
JEON JUNGKOOK
I guess, since you will allow a relationship in theory, you just object to the idea of a relationship specifically with Jungkook.
And I can see why. Jungkook very obviously has no interest in Jimin’s happiness. Jungkook doesn't support him at all.
He doesn't hold jimin when he cries, he doesn't spam us with Jimin content when Jimin has a comeback, he doesn't cook Jimin’s favourite food for him, or fold his underpants while he does his own laundry.
He doesn't take him on trips to Japan, or send thirst-trap messages for his birthday, or play his songs, or sing on his albums.
He doesn't carry him, bridal style, any time Jimin jumps into his arms, and I can guarantee you that he doesn't let Jimin fuck him just the way Jimin likes it, as often as he wants it, wherever and whenever he gets the chance. And vice versa.
They didn't enlist in the military as companions, after all.
So reallly, what would Jungkook even know about Jimin's happiness?
What could he POSSIBLY know about Jimin that you don't know. Nothing, right?
What could POSSIBLY happen behind closed doors and away from the camera, that you don't see with your third eye and your vivid imagination? Again, nothing. You know ALL, right?
[Deselect.font=sarcasm]
I think we've covered everything?
Theres only one thing left to say i guess.
Whoever you are, you'd do well to consider whose happiness you're supporting.
If you don't support what makes Jimin happy, you don't support Jimin. Period.
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lovebittenbyevans · 21 hours
Text
In Their Words | One Shot
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Summary: When Oscar finally did an podcast interview with you
Pairing: Oscar Piastri x interviewer! Female Reader
Warnings: two cursed words
Author note: I was inspired by watching jay shetty podcast on youtube to write this. Enjoy reading!
My Masterlist
You sat in the chair across from him and moved the microphone toward you. You were nervous to do this but at the same time you were excited. You have been wanting to interview Oscar for a while now since he was always busy.
“We are ready to start.” The producer yelled making sure everyone heard him.
You clear your throat as the camera started rolling. You looked at him with a polite smile. “Oscar Piastri.”
He chuckles a bit. “Y/N.” He was wearing a black hoodie and comfortable blue jeans. He wanted to dress for himself for once and be comfortable.
“Welcome to in their words podcast.” You speak into the microphone.
Oscar leans back slightly in his chair and speaks into the microphone. “Thank you for having me.”
You let out a soft sigh. “Now, there is so much I want to ask but some stuff we can talk about off cameras as well.”
He laughed a bit. “Y/N, you and I have been friends for four years. You know you can ask me anything.” You rolled your eyes and sucked your teeth playfully. “Open book, huh?”
He laughed again. “Go ahead.” You clears your throat as you make eye contact with him. “My first question would be your lifestyle? What made you want to be so free.”
He rubbed his chin for a second before he answered your question. “As you know both my parents are rich and wealthy. I didn’t want a path where I had to be them. I wanted one of my own and just be careful with who I let in my life.”
“So, you wanted to be this sugar daddy for every woman you are with?” You raised an eyebrow. You knew how Oscar moved so well.
He let out a sigh and said. “No, I just like having women around me. Yes, I have money but I’m not stupid enough to let them use me. I truly care about my girlfriend Ruby.” At least he was being honest.
You nodded listening to him. “How long have you and Remi been together?”
Oscar made a thinking face. “On and off for almost a year and a half.”
“And do you feel like you are missing something from her? That’s why you don’t want to be fully committed.” You asked him another question.
He didn’t know how to answer that. He never thought about Ruby being his forever even though he did love her to an extent.
“I think when two people are enjoying each other's company and don't want to ruin their little bubble they have with them. It’s become a custom to it.” He explained the best way he could.
You just listen to him talk through the interview as you ask him more questions about him, his life mostly. You noticed sometimes Oscar only likes attention from people who matter to him.
“Charles, Lando and Lewis are the ones I’m closest to and they always have my back. Even when we see each other at events we have good conversations with each other.” He tells you.
You sit up a bit in your chair. “And I feel like I can come to you about anything as well.” He continues to talk.
“When I’m available.” You joked.
He couldn’t help but laugh. “Did you get what I sent you?”
You gave him a side eye. “I did but you didn’t have to do that.” You were not about to reveal what he gave you on camera. You like to keep things private between you and him.
He looks at you while shaking his head. He knew what kind of person you are even though he always wanted to be here for you.
“Y/N, why don't you let me be–” You cut him off before he could finish his sentence. “I have this card sitting on my lap and I am going to ask you a few questions from people.” You truly don’t want to have this conversation on camera right now.
Oscar opens his mouth, but closes it. “Question one is do you ever see a future of you settling down with Remi?” You glance at the card and then at him.
He chuckles briefly. “Um, that’s a tough answer to give.”
You moved on to the next question. “If you were in a different universe what would your career be?”
“I always say I wanted to be a professor on college campus, tattoo artists or soccer player.” He answered truthfully.
You moved the microphone a bit. “And final question.” Your eyes widened when you saw the next question. You almost gasped. “Um.” You paused for a moment. “Could you see yourself being with Y/N? Would you be willing to explore with her and see if there is a chance?”
You felt your cheeks flush as he locked eyes with you. “My only answer would be a hundred percent yes.” You didn’t expect him to actually answer that so loudly.
“Ok.” You said. “Thanks for coming on my show Oscar.” You had to pull yourself together and be calm.
He smiled warmly. “Thank you so much for having me, Y/N.”
The producer yelled cut as you rose from your chair and walked off set. You walked out the door after thanking the crew for being on set. You headed straight to your car and unlocked the door with your car keys.
You open the door to your car when you hear Oscar call out to you. “Y/N, wait!” His Australian accent was thick.
He grabs your arm, turning you around to face him. “No, No, No.” You spoke first. “Did you not understand what you just did on camera?”
Oscar ran his hand through his hair. “Yes, but I don’t regret saying it.” You glare at him for a second. “O, fucking Remi!? You forgot you have a whole girlfriend and women?”
He rolled his eyes. “I am not taking it back. I meant what I said, Y/N.” Your heart was racing while looking at him.
You never saw him in that way ever. It never crossed your mind for you to be anything more with him.
“Have a good rest of your day, O.” You got inside your car, closing the door shut and immediately drove off.
Oscar stood there watching you drive away instead of talking to you. “Fuck!” He mumbles to himself.
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m1ckeyb3rry · 2 days
Note
hii!! First of all ur theme is so aesthetically pleasing and I love all the nagi. I like binge read all of your event works and *chefs kiss*. Could I request a piece for karasu with the theme of like academic rivals/classmates? No worries if not, hoping ur doing well and taking care of urself!
On an unrelated note I saw that post about rude comments and im so sorry that’s happening to you! I honestly don’t know what drives ppl to bother leaving nasty comments esp when it’s not like they’re being forced to read anything T-T Hoping to send you a bit of love to counter those trolls!
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── FIVE WAYS TO KILL A CROW
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Synopsis: Crows are clingy birds, and Tabito Karasu’s feelings are hurt easier than you realize.
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Event Masterlist
Pairing: Karasu x Reader
Chapter Word Count: 9.1k
Content Warnings: academic rivals to lovers, karasu is an asshole, reader is also an asshole, jealous karasu 😍, hiori randomly pulls up at one point for some reason??, yukimiya requests to follow one (1) person and accidentally causes the most dramatic pseudo breakup ever
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A/N: anon i used to pray for times like these 😭😩 LMAOAO karasu is my fav (behind nagi ofc) but i’ve never gotten around to writing him so getting this request made me SO excited HAHA. i haven’t done anything rivals/enemies to lovers before so fingers crossed this doesn’t feel too awkward or unrealistic or rushed anything!! and yayyy i love my little nagi theme (and also nagi in general) i’m glad you like it too!! and my writing too, you’re so sweet 🥹 there will always be jerks unfortunately but lovely people like you make it all worth it 💖 thank you again and i hope this is kind of what you were looking for 🫶🏻
Additional: part of my 500 follower event! see the event description and rules to make a request of your own.
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ONE: POISON IT
You could hardly contain your smile as you sauntered up to Tabito Karasu’s desk, your exam held behind your back. He was sitting by himself — his seat partner was sick this week, from what you had heard, so he had taken the chance to spread out his things and stretch his legs. When he noticed you, he raised his eyebrows, mouth tugging into a frown at your amusement.
“What?” he said. You brandished the paper in front of you, irises sparkling as you leaned over to rest your forearms on the desk.
“I got full marks on the last Chemistry exam,” you said. Karasu made a face at you, snatching the test from your hands and scrunching his face up as he inspected it.
“Seriously?” he said.
“Seriously,” you said. “What did you get?”
He crossed his arms and looked away. “Not telling.”
“You definitely failed!” you said in delight, taking back the exam and laughing at him. “How embarrassing. You failed the easiest test of the year, and yet you consider Chemistry to be one of your best subjects? I can’t wait to see how badly you do during finals week.”
“I did not fail,” he said, rolling his eyes. “Not that it’s any of your business, but I got a ninety-eight.”
“Ninety-eight! That’s even worse than outright failure,” you said. “You were so close to perfection, and yet in the end, you fell short. It must sting for things to work out like that.”
“Yes, I’m positively wounded,” he said dryly before batting his eyelashes at you. From anyone else, the rapid switch in demeanor would’ve left you reeling, but the shifting mood was to be expected from him. “Will you give me a kiss and make it better?”
You rolled up your test and smacked him on the head with it. “No.”
“Anyways, my overall grade in the class is still higher than yours, because rankings were updated today and I’m still number one, so I’m not sure what cause you have to be boasting,” he said.
“Hm, but did you notice who’s number one in Modern Literature?” you said, pulling out your phone and opening the school’s app, which listed each class’s rankings in every subject. “Yup, that’s right, me.”
“Good job, Y/N!” he said, clapping mockingly. “Shall we have a party? It’s a big occasion — the mediocre number two has finally done something of such note that she’s number one for the first time in her life.”
“I’ve been number one plenty of other times!” you snapped. “For your information, I’ve been first in the class in mathematics and history every year since middle school, so who are you to be acting like this is a first? If anyone’s mediocre, it’s you!”
He raised his hands in the air innocently, his trademark smirk gracing his features once more now that he had succeeded in irritating you, as was his typical goal.
“Alright, alright, no need to be upset,” he said. “It’s not good for you. Clouds your judgment.”
“In what way?” you said.
“I mean, somehow, you got the two of us confused,” he said. “And we’re nothing alike.”
“I did no such thing,” you said.
“Well, I seem to recall you calling me mediocre, but between the two of us, the subpar one is obviously you,” he said, flicking your forehead. You slapped his hand away.
“You — the bell is going to ring, so I’m going to go back to my seat, but just so you know, you’re way more mediocre than me, Mr. Two-Percent-Short!” you said.
“Stellar comeback!” he called out. “My ego is bruised beyond healing!”
“Good!” you called back, ignoring the sarcasm. “Maybe it’ll return to a more normal size. Your head has grown too big, it’s almost as ridiculous as that hair of yours!”
“Leave the hair alone!”
During your free period, you decided to go to the library for some peace and quiet to work on your homework and find some of the sources you needed for your next research project. For belonging to a high school, the library was surprisingly extensive, and you had managed to find relevant information for every other project you had ever done in it, so you had high hopes. Unfortunately, it seemed this latest assignment was more obscure than anything you had completed before, so on your second lap of the shelves where the books, if they existed, would be located, you resigned yourself to giving up.
Just then, a volume caught your eye. The cover was shiny and pristine, the spine still unbent with newness. Crouching, you pulled it out, and when you saw the title emblazoned across the cover in bright yellow lettering, you began to laugh, making a beeline to the checkout counter with it tucked under your arm.
“Hey, Y/N! How was your morning?” your best friend said as you set your things down next to her in the cafeteria. You hummed in agreement, searching the room for a familiar head of dark hair. “You good? Looking for someone? Let me guess: your secret boyfriend that you’re keeping from the rest of us.”
“Yeah, I’m looking for Karasu,” you said before the rest of her words registered. “No!”
“You’re finally coming out and saying it?” she said, holding her hands to her heart and pretending to swoon. “I’ve been waiting for you to confess.”
“He’s not my secret boyfriend that I’m keeping from everyone, I’m just looking for him!” you said.
“Could’ve fooled me,” she said. “What do you need him for, anyways?”
“I got a book for him in the library,” you said.
“Right, and this is the guy you hate? Your ‘mortal enemy’ or whatever?” she checked.
“Yes,” you said.
“But you…got a book for him from the library, and now you’re looking for him so that you can give it to him?” she said. You scoffed.
“When you put it like that, it sounds different than it really is,” you said. “Trust me, this isn’t a nice gesture or anything. You can consider it revenge.”
“When are you going to get over this stupid rivalry?” she said. “He’s not even that bad, you know.”
“Not even that bad? Not even that bad? Are we talking about the same Karasu here? I’m referring to Tabito, not his older sister,” you said.
“Ah, I think so? He’s a nice guy,” she said.
“He is the spawn of the devil! And he’s the one who started it, so I’ll stop hating him once he apologizes and means it,” you said.
“Do you think he even remembers that?” she said. “It was in middle school.”
You glared at her. “I remember it. If he doesn’t, well, that’s just more of a reason for me to dislike him on principle.”
“Okay, okay, whatever you say,” she said. “Sorry for complimenting him. He’s awful and rude and mean. I think he’s sitting outside with some of his soccer friends, if you still want to find him.”
“Thank you!” you said, instantly forgetting that you were upset with her for taking Karasu’s side instead of yours. “Watch my stuff, okay? I’ll be right back.”
“See you soon,” she said. “Have fun. Actually, maybe it’s more realistic for me to just tell you not do anything that’ll get you expelled.”
You waved her off as you marched out to the courtyard where Karasu and his friends were lounging, their chairs positioned in the shade so that they did not overheat while they ate. None of them noticed you approaching until you were tapping Karasu on the shoulder and smiling at him sweetly.
“Y/N? What are you doing here?” he said, sounding oddly flustered. One of his friends snorted, and more than a few chuckled, but you ignored all of them in favor of setting your bag on the armrest of Karasu’s chair.
“Hi, Karasu. I was in the library earlier and I saw this book that reminded me of you, so I took the liberty of checking it out,” you said.
“Oh,” he said. “You didn’t have to do that.”
“You’re so considerate, Y/N!” one of his friends said.
“We’re all so jealous of Karasu here,” another friend, the one who you believed had snorted, said. “You’re way too pretty for him.”
“Shut up,” Karasu said, sticking up his middle finger at his friend, though none of the group paid him much mind. In fact, it seemed to egg them on more, as they continued to hurl jabs at Karasu while simultaneously incessantly complimenting you.
You didn’t respond to any of them, instead pulling out the book and handing it to Karasu, interlacing your fingers and waiting for his reaction. At first he seemed confused, and then dismay dawned upon his features as he realized what he was holding in his hands: a copy of Chemistry for Dummies.
“What the fuck?” he said. You patted him on the shoulder.
“It’s only suitable,” you said. Suddenly, his expression cleared, and he beamed at you, which caused unease to brew in your stomach. You knew for a fact that he was about to say something infuriating, and you mentally prepared yourself to respond.
“What a roundabout way of telling me you need tutoring! Of course, I’m happy to help you anytime you want,” he said, tilting back in his chair so that he could cross his arms over his chest arrogantly.
“Why would I want tutoring from someone who does worse than me in the class?” you shot back, crossing your own arms in retaliation.
One of his friends whistled. “She got you there, Tabito.”
“Enough out of you,” Karasu said through gritted teeth. His friend winked at you and mouthed ‘nice one.’
“Look, man, all I’m saying is that if you want to ask out such a beautiful girl, you’ve gotta have a little more finesse than that!” he said.
“He can have all the finesse in the world, but I’d still say no,” you said. His friends hollered with raucous laughter, which caused Karasu’s face to turn red, but you only pressed the book into his hands. “It’s due in two weeks. That should be long enough, right? Make sure you return it on time, please, I don’t want late fines.“
“I hope you go into debt because of this stupid book,” he said.
“Aww,” you cooed. “You’ll be the one paying it off, so it doesn’t matter to me. See you around, Karasu — or, hopefully not.”
TWO: SHOOT IT
You and Karasu had met in middle school. The two of you had been assigned to work on a presentation together, and he had told you during your first meeting that because you were a dunce, you should just listen to him and do whatever he said. Ever since that day, you had done everything you could to show him how much better than him you were; for his part, he found great joy in getting on your nerves and so took part in every argument with pleasure.
You had long ago proved his middle school self wrong, by anyone’s standards, but at this point it was a habit for you to hate Tabito Karasu as well as a habit for him to hate you back. And of course, habits were hard to form but harder to break, so you would probably continue in that manner until the day you graduated and left him behind for good.
It was just the two of you who did not get along. Your friends were cordial with him and his ilk, and you did not really mind his little group all that much, crude though they sometimes were. After all, it was just in the manner of teenage boys, and when they were not taking advantage of your presence to make fun of Karasu, they were actually a pretty agreeable sort.
In fact, your friend groups tended to coexist most of the time, even having lunch together every now and again — though they were always careful to ensure that you and Karasu were kept entirely separate, or else you both were guaranteed to ruin the cheerful camaraderie with your sharp tongues and quick tempers. The measures they took were admirable, but unfortunately, they were not always enough. After all, what were precautions when compared with inevitabilities?
“Oh my god!” you squealed. “Guys! Oh my god, oh my god, I can’t believe this is happening?”
“Can’t believe what’s happening?” your best friend said, speaking for everyone at the table. They were all tuned in to you now, wondering what the big news might be that would bring about such a reaction from you, given how put-together you tended to be.
“Do you remember that one model I happened to meet while I was out last weekend? Kenyu Yukimiya? He just requested to follow me on social media!” you said.
“No way!” your best friend said.
“Way!” you said. The only warning you got was an arm pressing against your back, and then your phone was abruptly snatched from your hands. You gasped, spinning in your seat and scowling when you realized that the culprit was none other than that scavenging crow, Tabito Karasu.
“What the hell? He’s average at best, why are you so excited?” he said, scrolling through Yukimiya’s profile, his eyes narrowed critically. “Y/N, don’t you have any standards?”
“You’re probably the only person in the entire country who doesn’t find him gorgeous,” you said, exhaling dreamily as you took your phone back from him and stared at the artful manner Yukimiya was posing in for his profile photo. “He was even better looking in person. And sonice, too! They don’t make men like that often.”
Karasu frowned and swiped at your phone again. You held it out of his reach, reaching across the bench to press your foot against his chest, effectively holding him back from further attempts at thievery.
“Let me look at him again!” he said.
“Um, no,” you said. “I don’t need you making more fun of him. I know you’re jealous, but expressing it like this only makes you uglier, just so you know.”
“Looks like they’re back at it again,” one of your friends said, massaging her temples.
“Yup,” one of Karasu’s teammates said.
“Ugly? Ugly? You’re calling me ugly? Have you looked in a mirror recently? Also, get your gross shoe off of my shirt!” Karasu said.
“I have looked in a mirror recently, actually, and incidentally I’ve also been keeping an eye on my follow requests. Guess what? I’m obviously good looking, since a legitimate model wants to follow me! How many celebrities request to follow you, huh? I bet the answer is zero!” you said, though you did do him the favor of swinging your leg back, allowing him to brush himself off in disdain.
“Lots of soccer players want to follow me,” he said. “I’m quite good, you know.”
“That doesn’t count,” you said. “It has nothing to do with how you look. They’d request to follow you no matter how hideous and poorly styled you and your hair are.”
“Are they seriously arguing about which of them is worse looking?” Karasu’s teammate said.
“I suppose so,” your friend said. “They’re both really hot, though, so I don’t know what the big deal is…”
“Geez, they’ll take any excuse to go at it, huh?” Karasu’s teammate said.
“Pretty much,” your friend said.
“Guess all of that tension has to go somewhere,” his teammate said.
“Exactly,” your friend said, shaking her head as she finished up her lunch.
“That model probably only works for horror magazines!” Karasu said. “It barely even counts!”
“He was in Vogue Japan,” you said smugly. “Look it up, stupid.”
“So what?” he said.
“So he’s handsome,” you said. “Like I said, it’s okay if you’re envious of him, as long as you accept it instead of doing this whole weird denial thing. I don’t blame you for it — in fact, I thought you would be. You don’t have much going for you overall, do you? In all honesty, it’s only natural for you to feel like this when faced with what you lack.”
Karasu’s eyes widened, and then he stood abruptly, picking up his bag with one arm and haphazardly pulling it onto his back. “Goodbye.”
“Bye,” you said, not really caring one way or another what he did with himself. Actually, you would prefer it if he wasn’t there, interrupting your meal and your daydreaming about your impending romance with Kenyu Yukimiya.
“Wow, Y/N,” your best friend said once Karasu was gone. “You’re kind of dumb, you know that?”
“What are you talking about?” you said.
“It’s not her fault,” another one of Karasu’s teammates said. “He’s not much better.”
“Huh?” you said.
“Never mind,” your best friend said, pinching the bridge of her nose. “I have a migraine now.”
“Want some ibuprofen?” Karasu’s teammate said. She accepted it gratefully, and nothing more was said on the subject. The rest of lunch passed in a peaceful manner, though strangely, Karasu did not return.
It should’ve made you happy. You wondered, then, why it felt so odd without him there, like there was a gaping maw sitting in the place that should’ve been occupied by him.
THREE: DROWN IT
Ever since the day that Yukimiya had requested to follow you, you and Karasu hadn’t spoken. He refused to make eye contact with you in the few classes the two of you had together, keeping his gaze lowered to his work and his shoulders hunched away from you. You didn’t even try to talk to him; something told you that it would not be well-received, and you weren’t anywhere near confrontational enough to bring up his odd behavior, so the time without him dragged on and on, seemingly without end.
At first, you were happy, and you told your friends as much. It was a much-needed break from the constant aggravation he brought you, and you found your classes without your competition to be almost boring in their simplicity.
“The more you say you’re happy that you and Karasu aren’t talking, the less it sounds believable,” your best friend said, taking a sip from her juice box.
“Believe it! This is what I’ve been wanting since middle school,” you said.
“Is it?” she said. “It sounds like you’re kind of upset.”
“Am not!” you said. She shrugged.
“Sure,” she said, drawing out the word. “Definitely not.”
“Why would I be upset?” you said.
“You tell me,” she said.
“I’m telling you that I’m not upset. You’re the one with the theory, so give me some evidence to substantiate it,” you said.
“Fine,” she said. “You talk about him all of the time, even when you guys are getting along — or, at least, your twisted little version of being friendly, which isn’t friendly by anyone else’s standards but it seems to work for you two, so I won’t comment further. You keep telling us that you’re so delighted he’s leaving you alone, but you do this thing with your face when you say it that makes it super obvious you’re not. It’s not the kind of behavior you’d display when discussing someone you hate as much as you claim to hate him. Finally, there’s a reason half the school thinks you guys are dating, and it’s not just the obvious aesthetic appeal of that match.”
“What? I thought you were just trying to bother me when you brought that up!” you said. She shook her head.
“No, it’s a common misconception. It’s why no one’s ever asked you out. They all think you’re already taken. Actually, the other day, a guy asked me if I thought he might have a chance with you now that you and Karasu had broken up,” she said.
“What’d you say?” you said, half in horror, half in fascination.
“I told him probably not, and that you and Karasu hadn’t broken up, because you were never together in the first place,” she said.
“Oh, okay,” you said.
“Should I have said something else?” she said. You shook your head.
“No,” you said. “What else would you have said?”
“Dunno,” she said. “Look, you need to cheer up. I’m sure that if you just try to talk to him, things will go back to normal in an instant. Then you can return to complaining about him like usual.”
“Talk to him? About what?” you said. She gave you an incredulous look.
“You were pretty mean to him the other day, Y/N,” she said.
“It wasn’t any meaner than what he says to me on the regular,” you said. “And what I say to him in return. I don’t see why he’d be more or less offended.”
“I think it was a little worse than what you typically say,” she said. “Plus, the context was different.”
“How so?” you said. She shook her head.
“That’s for him to explain, not me,” she said. “Come on, don’t be stubborn. Work things out with him. I miss hanging out with the guys.”
“Ah, so that’s why it matters to you,” you said. “Sorry to say it, but I don’t have any plans at attempting conversation with him anytime soon. Like I said, things are finally calm and stress-free for me. He’s the one being immature, as always, so why’s it up to me to make things better?”
“Immature?” your best friend said. “You’ve held a grudge against him since middle school.”
“And?” you said. She squinted at you before pursing her lips.
“Well, I guess the two of you really are made for one another,” she said.
“What?”
The next week would mark the beginning of the swimming unit in PE class, which you were actually looking forward to. You loved to swim, you had ever since you were a child and your parents had brought you into the water for the first time, and the thought of getting to earn a good grade for something you liked doing in the first place was an agreeable on.
In preparation, you decided to stop by the pool after classes were over so that you could acclimate yourself to the motions of the strokes once again. The swim team’s practice had been canceled, and no one else ever used the pool, so you would have the place to yourself, which was just about the closest thing to heaven you could imagine while still living on Earth.
Changing into your school-issued bathing suit and putting your things into a locker, you tied your hair back so that it was out of the way and stepped into the steaming indoor pool deck. The water was a bright cerulean shade, the lanes split by lane-lines which alternated colors to match your school’s emblem. When you dipped your toe into the deep end, you found it was warm, not cold like you had feared. The school didn’t splurge on heating the water of the rarely-used pool, so usually, it was all but freezing. You supposed that they must’ve had complaints from last year’s PE classes, so they had restarted the heaters in order to ensure that no one had any cause to whine about the temperature this year.
For a moment, you just sat on the tiled edge, your legs swishing about in the water, the heels of your palms pressing against the lip of the pool as you closed your eyes and luxuriated in the tangy scent of chlorine. So lost were you that you almost didn’t notice the door swinging open, but the clang of it shutting was unmistakable. Thinking it must’ve been a confused swim team member showing up to a practice that wasn’t happening, you opened your eyes, your lips parting to issue a reprimand that died before it could take shape.
It wasn’t a swim team member. It was Tabito Karasu, wearing a pair of swim trunks and nothing else, his jaw taut and his fists clenched as he inched towards the water. He hadn’t even noticed you, and you didn’t feel inclined to announce yourself, so you let your elbows dig into your thighs, your chin resting in your hands as you observed him.
You had known that he played soccer almost as long as you had known his name. It was the entire reason he was so popular and well-regarded in the school, and an inextricable part of his identity, but until now, you hadn’t quite considered what that actually meant. After all, you only ever saw him in the loose, modest clothing of the school’s uniform, so why would you jump to the conclusion that he was so — so — well, you were loath to admit it, but he had a striking body, and, now that he wasn’t being all cocky and maddening, you could appreciate that even his face was of a similar quality.
Blinking, you cocked your head as he extended a graceful foot towards the first stair leading into the shallow end. Water splashed against it, and he yanked it back like he had been scalded. You could not help yourself from giggling as he did this once and then twice again. On the third attempt, you forgot that the two of you weren’t acknowledging one another and cupped your hands around your mouth to amplify your voice.
“What are you doing?” you said.
“Who — Y/N? I didn’t realize anyone else was in here!” he said, stepping back from the pool and straightening his shorts, though there was nothing wrong with them that required straightening. You sprang to your feet and walked over to him, leaving wet footprints in your wake as you peered at him curiously.
“I was just going to do some laps to ensure that I’m at my best for the swimming unit next week. Did you have the same idea?” you said.
“Something like that,” he said.
“What’s with that whole ritual, though?” you said. “It’s not that cold. You should just get in.”
“Definitely not,” he said. You furrowed your brow.
“Okay,” you said. “Why are you at the pool, then, if you don’t want to go in the water?”
“It’s nothing you need to be concerned with!” he said. “Why are you so nosy? Just go away.”
“I was here first,” you said.
“Fine,” he said, spinning on his heel. “I’ll go, then.”
“Wait! Karasu, wait,” you said, grabbing onto his wrist as he made to leave. “Look, we don’t have to talk to one another or anything. We’re experienced enough at ignoring each other, so there’s not an issue in both of us being here.”
“Is that what you want?” he said.
“Yeah, sure,” you said. He swallowed hard, his throat bobbing, and you thought he would say something, but he only nodded curtly.
“Fine,” he said. You gave him an expectant look, but he did not move from the spot he was rooted in, so you thought that you might as well take the initiative. Looping around to the deep end, you inhaled and then dove into the water headfirst, staying under for as long as you could before finally surfacing and allowing yourself to settle into the familiar undulations that came with swimming.
After a few laps, you took a break, peeking up over the concrete to look at Karasu, who was still standing stubbornly in place, his nose wrinkling whenever he glanced at the pool.
“Hey,” you said. “Are you scared of the water or something?”
He froze. “Who told you that?”
“No one?” you said. “It’s pretty easy to tell as an onlooker. Were you planning on trying to get over your fear by coming to swim when no one was here? That’s dangerous if you don’t know how. You could drown.”
“I’m not scared of the water,” he said.
“Really? Then why’re you just standing there?” you said. His mouth opened and closed a few times, and then finally he hung his head in reluctant defeat.
“Whatever,” he said. Judging by the way he tensed immediately after the confession, he was expecting you to say something cruel, but you only boosted yourself out of the water and tapped him on the shoulder.
“I can help you, if you’d like,” you said. “I’m good at swimming.”
“Why would I want your help? And why would you even offer it in the first place? This is just one more subject you can beat me in, and that’s all you care about, so save it,” he said. “Congratulations, Y/N. You get to be number one this time.”
He looped a dry towel around his neck and left you standing alone, shivering and dripping pool water, a puddle forming around your feet as you gazed at the door he had vanished through.
The class rankings updated again after the swimming unit was over. You were in first place. Karasu didn’t even make it to the top ten. You wanted to celebrate the victory — it was the first time you had beaten him so thoroughly, after all — but for some reason, it didn’t really feel like something worth celebrating.
FOUR: STONE IT
School without Karasu was lonelier than you thought it would be. You hadn’t realized just how much you relied on him until he wasn’t there anymore. Without him, there wasn’t anyone you could exchange looks with across the room when somebody said something ridiculous in class. There wasn’t anyone who you could talk to in the minutes before the period began. There wasn’t anyone who made you push yourself to be better. What was the point of being first if Karasu wasn’t on your heels, ensuring that you stayed on the top for fear of losing to him? It was boring and lonely to try if he wasn’t doing the same.
You and he were still one and two, but it didn’t matter much anymore. The rankings were just numbers. They didn’t mean anything when Karasu still refused to even exchange pleasantries with you. Why would you want to compete when the other party didn’t share your interest? Now, if you managed to pull out ahead of him, it felt more like you had kicked a dog that was already down than if you had actually won anything. When he got first over you, it didn’t fuel your ambition any. You just wished he would come over and gloat instead of sitting there so solemnly, like none of it had ever mattered to him in the first place.
You couldn’t understand why he was so angry. What had you said that was so egregious? You hardly remembered the conversation you had had with him, it was that thoughtlessly done. You really hadn’t meant much if anything by it. One second, the two of you had been squabbling as you were prone to doing, and the next, he was so furious that he couldn’t bear to interact with you even still.
The day you were ambushed was nondescript. It was just like any other Wednesday, and you were walking back home from school when you were forced to stop in your tracks. A tall man — no, he was a boy, probably a year or two younger than you based on his soft and innocent expression — was barring your way, his arms outstretched and feet planted firmly in the ground to prove the depth of his conviction. He had pale hair and sky-colored eyes framed by the longest eyelashes you had ever seen on anyone, man or woman, with a small mouth pinched into an expression of discontent and lines like tire tracks between his eyebrows.
“Who are you?” you said warily, reaching for your phone, though you hardly knew who you would call. The setting was wrong for this to be a mugging, as it was sunny out and you were on a well-traveled street, but you didn’t really know what else to expect from the stranger, who could certainly outmuscle you if it came to it despite his lovely appearance.
“Yo Hiori,” he said. “I play on Bambi Osaka with Karasu. You’re Y/N L/N, correct?”
“Oh, one of the soccer guys?” you said. “Uh, hey. Yes, that’s me. Is something the matter? I’ve never seen you before. How do you even know who I am?”
“I’ve been watching Karasu for a while,” Hiori said with the utmost of seriousness, his hands dropping to his sides now that he was sure you weren’t going to run past him. “He’s a pretty fascinating person.”
“I’m sure,” you said, thinking to yourself that this Hiori kid was more than a little weird. Did Karasu know that he had acquired such a shadow? You supposed he must’ve. He had always been the observant type, so there was no way someone like Hiori would’ve escaped his keen notice.
“He’s been kind of down in the dumps recently, though. Even our coach noticed it. His playing hasn’t suffered too dramatically, but he’s the captain of the team, so he’s the guy everyone relies on for a funny pep talk or a word of advice when things are going south. Nowadays, however, when he’s off the field, he just sulks,” Hiori explained.
“I see,” you said. “That’s terrible.”
You meant it, too. Karasu without his asshole quips and ready jokes was a different person entirely. A person who you missed more than you could let on, even to yourself.
“It is,” Hiori said. “I took it upon myself to do some digging, and I’ve come to the conclusion that the reason is you.”
He was definitely a freak. You vowed to bring it up with Karasu, if he ever talked to you again. Even if he was already aware, it felt like a moral or civic duty of yours to ensure that he was fully informed about the extent that this child was inquiring into his life.
“What kind of, uh, digging do you mean?” you said, neatly avoiding the second thing he had said.
“It was pretty simple,” Hiori said. “One of the guys asked Karasu if he was acting off because he broke up with his girlfriend or something, and he got so mad that he left practice early. I opened up social media as soon as I got home and saw that you’re the only girl he follows, so by process of elimination, I figured the two of you were having some trouble in your relationship.”
“Relationship? I think you’re misunderstanding,” you said. “There’s no relationship. You could hardly even consider us friends.”
“Oh!” Hiori said. “I’m sorry. He’s mentioned you once or twice, so I just thought — and given what he said — and his reaction and all — no, I really am just sorry. It was wrong of me to make that assumption in the first place.”
“It’s alright,” you said. “I’m told it’s a relatively common misconception, so I can’t blame you. At least, it used to be. We haven’t really spoken in a while, so I guess everything thinks that it’s over, even though it never began in the first place.”
“You haven’t spoken in a while?” Hiori said. “Why not?”
“I think I said something that offended him, and we haven’t been on good terms since. Not that we ever really were in the first place,” you said.
“You did? He’s a pretty rational person, so it must’ve been something terrible for him to still be angry about it,” Hiori said.
“Maybe, but I don’t remember saying anything like that,” you said.
“What if you tell me how your last conversation went? Maybe I can help you,” he said.
“Sure, since you’re apparently the resident Karasu expert,” you said. “Wanna walk with me? I was heading home, but we can go to the convenience store and get some snacks or something instead. I don’t want to get in trouble for standing around in front of some random person’s house for too long.”
“Sounds good,” Hiori said. “There’s one a couple of minutes away, so we can head in that direction and keep talking as we go.”
“Great,” you said. “Okay, so the last time we talked…I think it was when Kenyu Yukimiya requested to follow me.”
“Who’s that?” Hiori said.
“He’s this model I met while I was shopping one day. Absolutely breathtaking,” you said. “Just really a stand-up guy. We’ve hung out a few times since then, he introduced me to the girlfriend I did not know he had, the works.“
“Yikes, unrequited love?” Hiori said with a wince.
“It was more of a celebrity crush. His girlfriend is super sweet, though, so I can’t complain. Anyways, I would consider them both casual acquaintances. The type you call to have a coffee with, but not the ones that help you move into a new apartment, you know?” you said.
“Uh, sure,” Hiori said in a tone which suggested he had no idea what you were talking about but was too scared to inquire further.
“Moving on, Yukimiya requested to follow me, and of course this was at the peak of my celebrity crush, so I started fawning over him, which prompted Karasu to take my phone and start insulting him,” you said.
“Interesting,” Hiori said.
“Then I called him ugly, and he called me ugly — that’s pretty standard for the two of us, so don’t look so shocked! After that, I said something about how I had expected him to be jealous of Yukimiya, since he didn’t have much going for him overall, so it made sense,” you said. “That’s when he left and things got weird.”
“Okay, I think I get it,” Hiori said. You waited for him to explain further. He smiled at you pleasantly.
“Right, so are you going to share with the class or am I meant to read your mind?” you said after a moment.
“I don’t want to give anything away that I shouldn’t,” he said. “But it’s a pretty simple issue to fix. Try thinking about what you said from his perspective.”
“He has a dumbass perspective. It’s impossible for me to think that way,” you said automatically.
“Do you think that he dislikes you?” Hiori said, taking two bottles of Yakult down from the shelf, handing one to you and keeping the other for himself.
“I’m not really sure how he feels about me, to tell you the truth,” you said.
“I don’t think he does,” Hiori said. “So, try thinking about someone you like and then imagine them saying to you what you said to them. Would you be inclined to be nice to them after that?”
“Well…” Your tongue was heavy and leaden in your mouth, and you ducked your head as you searched through your wallet for money. “No, not at all. I’d probably hate them for a really long time. Maybe forever.”
“That’s possible,” he said.
“Do you think he’ll hate me forever?” you said.
“Most likely not. Like I said earlier, he’s a rational person. I think that if you say sorry and sincerely mean it, he’ll forgive you. There’s a chance he won’t, though; you’ll have to listen to what he says and accept it,” Hiori said.
“But when? I hardly have the chance to see him in school. He just avoids me, and the building’s so big that it’s all but impossible to track him down!” you said.
“We have a soccer game in the evening today,” Hiori said. “I’m heading over there in a bit. Wanna come? You can talk to him once it’s over.”
“Am I allowed to?” you said.
“Why wouldn’t you be?” Hiori said. “If anyone says anything, just tell them I invited you. Here, I’ll give you the address and time now, and you can decide if you want to show up.”
“Okay,” you said, typing out his instructions in your notes app. “Thanks a lot for your help, Hiori.”
“Anytime!” he said. “Hope to see you at the game!”
“Even if I don’t go, I’d still like to meet you again. You’re a pretty cool kid,” you said, reaching up to ruffle his hair. “Kind of weird, if I’m being fully honest, but cool nonetheless. Karasu’s lucky to have a teammate like you.”
He grinned, and it was a tender, shy thing, as if he was earnestly seeking your praise or approval — like how a cat would bring a dead rat to its master or a child would show their parents a treasured drawing. “Thank you. Even if you don’t try to talk to Karasu…maybe you can still come anyways?”
“Alright, then,” you said. “Since you asked so nicely, I guess I have to. I’ll be there.”
FIVE: TAME IT
The sun was nearing the horizon, but it still had not officially begun to set by the time you settled in the bleachers on Bambi Osaka’s side. Besides a couple of women your mother’s age and an elderly man who must’ve been someone’s grandfather, there weren’t any other spectators. Hiori had mentioned that this wasn’t a particularly serious game, as they didn’t even need to beat the team to make it to Nationals, so it was more like a friendly exhibition game than anything — hence the low turnout.
“Hello, dear,” a woman said when she noticed you sitting by yourself. “Are you friends with one of the players?”
“Yes. Um, Tabito Karasu? I’m his classmate,” you said. Technically, you were there on Hiori’s goodwill, not Karasu’s, but for you to not mention Karasu would be like a betrayal. You weren’t sure if it was him or yourself that you’d be betraying, but either way you did not want to chance it.
“You’re one of Karasu’s friends? Lucky you, then,” she said. “He’s a delightful boy, or so I’ve heard. This is my son’s first year on the team, and he was really nervous to join such a prestigious organization, but ever since his first day, all he can talk about is how amazing his captain is. Karasu’s tough on all of the players, but he really works hard to make all of them feel welcomed, too.”
Bambi Osaka’s team took the field, and you smiled when you saw Karasu in the front, his name across the back of his jersey, a pair of black gloves covering his large hands, an insolent leer on his face as he greeted the other team’s captain. He had not noticed you yet, and you were not sure if this was for the better or worse, because you wanted him to see you, but you didn’t want him to be distracted and play poorly as a result.
“He’s a wonderful person,” you agreed. “He’s the only one in the entire school who can keep up with me, academically or otherwise. I didn’t realize until recently how much I admire him for that.”
The woman’s eyes crinkled around the corners with the ease that came from a lifetime of happiness. For some reason, you thought that she knew something you did not, or could not, but it wasn’t uncomfortable that she did. It seemed to you that being left in the dark was just your lot this time around, and you found that oddly enough, it felt acceptable.
“Is this your first time coming to watch him?” she said.
“Yes, it is,” you said.
“You know, he has this habit before every match of scanning the stands, like he’s looking for someone. I thought it might be his parents, but at the last match, just about his entire family showed up, and he still seemed disappointed,” she said.
“That’s a shame,” you said noncommittally, not sure what else you should say. The woman shrugged.
“Well, I wonder what it’ll be like today,” she said. “There he goes.”
True to her words, Karasu was craning his neck towards the Bambi Osaka side, his eyes darting from person to person until they settled on you. You raised your hand hesitantly, waving at him, knowing that he probably wouldn’t reciprocate.
He turned away almost immediately, but not before you saw him fight back a smile — not the smug type he generally donned, but one you had only ever seen on him once or twice. It was one that made him seem charming and boyish and sweet, that made you want to take back every negative word you had ever said about him. Only now could you understand that it showed who he really was, that at his heart Karasu was that kind of person, not anything like the facade you were so accustomed to, which he showed you for the sole reason that it was what you unconsciously demanded of him.
You had judged him to be horrible, and so he became the bane of your existence. You had told him he was good for nothing, so he disappeared like he really was just that. Everything you said, Karasu went along with gamely, and you wished you could’ve known that earlier, so you would’ve spent less time hating him and more time comprehending these intricacies, which entranced you in the way a spider’s web entranced a butterfly.
“Looks like I don’t need to worry about that child any more,” the woman said as the referee blew the whistle to signal the start of the game.
“Pardon?” you said. “Were you talking to me?”
“No, no,” she said, shaking her head. “I was just musing to myself. Ignore me. Let’s watch the game; I have a feeling that some of our players are going to go all out today.”
Bambi Osaka completely annihilated the other team. Maybe the match didn’t matter, but none of them played that way; instead, they were aggressive and focused, with Karasu at the forefront of every goal they made, commending his teammates and deriding his opposition in the same breath.
That was something you had not expected — he had a massively foul mouth when he played soccer. You had thought that he was rude when he spoke to you, but the things you overheard from him whenever he ran by within earshot made your conversations seem tame. You couldn’t help but pity the poor defenders that he shoved past and spat barbed-wire abuse at.
He was merciless and beautiful and you could probably spend a dozen more hours watching him play without even a trace of boredom, but by the time the sky had turned gold and the sun had dipped towards the ground, the game was over and the members of Bambi Osaka were packing up their things to leave for the night after yet another landslide win.
You snuck onto the field once you were extremely assured that nobody would be upset with you for it, making your way over to where Karasu was chugging a bottle of water.
“Hi,” you said when he was finished, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and tossing the now-empty bottle into his bag. “You played really well.”
“Thanks,” he said. There was impatience but also longing in his voice, like he wanted you to say something so badly but he knew you would not, would never, and so he would rather get the conversation over with and move on with the business of his life than stick around and waste time with you.
“I’m sorry,” you said.
“What?” he said.
“I’m sorry,” you said. “Karasu, I’m really sorry. I don’t think that you have nothing going for you. I don’t know why I said that. Well, I do, it’s because I wanted to have the last word like I always do, but I don’t mind if I don’t have it this time. Or any other time. Or ever again.”
“What?” he repeated, as though he had been rendered dumb by your confession.
“I miss you,” you admitted. “I didn’t believe I could, but apparently, I can, and I do. A lot. I know that I’m unpleasant and disparaging and haughty when it comes to you, but I won’t be that way anymore if you forgive me for my vices one last time. If it means you’ll talk to me, I’ll be a fool. I’ll be in second place. I’ll be an idiot. But please, please forgive me.”
He took a deep breath. You handed him the bottle of kombucha that you had bought on your way to the game because you saw him drink it so frequently that you figured he must like it. He accepted it gingerly, holding it with the delicacy of a newborn, unscrewing the lid and sipping on it pensively.
“Alright,” he said.
“Alright?” you said.
“I’ll forgive you,” he said. “But on one condition.”
“Anything,” you said.
“You better not do anything as dumb as trying to be mediocre on purpose because you think it’ll make me feel better. What the hell is that proposition, huh? It’ll make me feel worse if anything! I like you because you’re unpleasant and disparaging and haughty and whatever else you said, not in spite of those qualities. I’m sure you heard me while I was playing…anyone who isn’t you would probably be terrified of me when I’m like that,” he said. “Just, y’know, I’m a person with feelings, too, so keep that in mind if you can. Oh, and don’t wait so long to say sorry next time, because it’s seriously annoying for me to feel all out-of-sorts for ages!” he said.
“That’s it?” you said.
“That’s it,” he said. “Hug?”
Ordinarily, you would’ve said no, but you were so weepy at the reconciliation that you nodded and let him embrace you, his arms caging you against his chest, holding you to him so that you could not escape.
“Ew!” you shouted when you registered what he was trying to do, shoving him off of you as he cackled and released you without much of a fight. “Gross, Karasu, you’re disgusting! Get away from me! I can’t believe you did that!”
“I can’t believe you fell for it!” he said as you frantically tried to wipe yourself off, though it was largely in vain. In your emotional state, you had forgotten that he was still drenched with sweat from the game, and you were now reaping the consequences of your poor decision making.
“You’re a bad person,” you said.
“Yeah, yeah,” he said. “Whatever you say.”
“I probably deserved that one, though, so I won’t hold it against you,” you said.
“Smart decision,” he said. “Wait. Unrelated, but whatever ended up happening between you and that model dude? What was his name again?”
“Yukimiya? He has a girlfriend,” you said. “Oh, well. What can you do, right? I’m not upset about it. Besides, everyone and their mother thinks I have a boyfriend already, so it’s probably for the best that it worked out like this. I wouldn’t want his modeling career to be ruined by home-wrecking allegations or anything.”
“It must be a pretty serious not-relationship you’ve got there, if it’s the career-ending type,” he said.
“I’d say it’s pretty serious, yes,” you said. “He’s an awesome guy. You’d like him.”
“I’ll respect it, then,” he said. “But…if you ever find yourself not-breaking up with him, then, uh, let me know. I’ll take you on a date somewhere. We can argue and reminisce about the day we met over dinner or something. It’ll be super romantic.”
He said it casually, but you were more familiar with him than either of you ever could’ve predicted you’d be. He was secretly nervous about how big of a risk he had taken, fiddling with the zipper of his soccer bag, avoiding your eyes while he waited for your response. You let the silence stretch on for a minute, just to make him squirm, and then you poked him in the ribs.
“Karasu,” you said.
“What’s up?” he said, and he must’ve been trying very hard to keep his cool, but his anxiety transmitted through the endearing crack of his voice.
“I have to tell you something,” you said.
“Go ahead,” he said.
“I’m not-single now,” you said. “So. Will you take me on a date this weekend?”
He lit up, so bright that you were all but blinded by the brilliance of his joy. Then he cleared his throat and pretended to check the non-existent watch on his wrist.
“You’re in luck,” he said. “That works for me. I’ll pick you up on Saturday for dinner.”
“Great,” you said. “I look forward to it.”
“Hold on, don’t go just yet,” he said. You paused, about to ask him what else he needed when he stooped over and pressed his lips to your cheek. “Thanks for coming to my game. I’m not really sure how you knew I was playing, but I’m glad you could make it either way.”
“Um — uh — Hiori told me, he told me you were playing, and, er, where to go and what time and all,” you stammered, trying to wrap your head around what had just happened, replaying it in your mind over and over.
“Hiori? I should’ve known he’d be the type to meddle like that,” he said. “I’m not even going to ask how you know each other. The answer will probably make me feel vaguely discomfited, so I’ll abide by an ‘ignorance is bliss’ policy.”
“That’s probably for the best,” you said, composing yourself, though internally, you were imagining what it would be like if you had turned your head, if instead of your cheek his lips had landed somewhere else. “Okay, I should go now. See you on Saturday?”
“One last thing. You’re pretty transparent, you know,” he said, grasping your chin in his left hand and leaning in. Your eyelashes fluttered shut as he grew closer and closer, but right when his mouth was a hair’s breadth from yourself, he chuckled. “Also, pretty gullible.”
Instead of kissing you like you had anticipated he would, he tackled you in another hug. You squealed in protest, but he held fast, his body rumbling with laughter as you simultaneously struggled to escape and clung onto him as tightly as you could.
“I hate you,” you said when your half-hearted efforts proved to be entirely futile.
“Sure you do,” he said.
“You’re the worst,” you said.
“Absolutely,” he said.
“I’m being serious here. You smell!” you said.
“Well, that’s plain rude of you to say,” he said, messing up your hair in what you were sure he deemed to be a punishment, as if being crushed against his sweaty form wasn’t punishment enough.
“Let go of me, you idiot crow!” you said.
“No can do,” he said. “Crows are clingy birds, you know. Even the idiotic ones. Ask me again in twenty years and maybe we can revisit the issue.”
“Karasu!”
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bcacstuff · 3 days
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With him in SF in early September I wonder if they'll shoot S8 without any break. They are filming the 6th episode, with 4 weeks/block=2 eps. + 1 week for all table reads they should be done by end of August. The end is near & 12 years in the making by the time S8 airs.
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I received a number of these similar asks in the last weeks already but didn't get to answer it in the way I wanted (sorry for the delay)
First of all to avoid some confusion, as far as I know he said he was gonna receive the SWF Award at Top Shelf event in October! I don't know why people keep saying September?
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Caitriona's movie The Amateur was scheduled to be released on November 8, 2024, however the release is delayed and will now be on April 11, 2025
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I do (of course) not have a filming schedule, so the short answer on will they have a summer break is; I don't know.
But we can speculate and think about a few things I considered. No facts of course, purely speculation.
Previous seasons we always could find some little clues and hints from time to time during filming, but this season it's extra hard. I shared what I could about location, but it's not always clear if it concerns OL S8 or BOB. That goes also for the clues we often would find on IG from the crew, which it seems are switching being busy on both series. The cast from BOB posts more little hints and clues than the cast from OL. Sometimes the supporting characters do, like today Kieran Bew
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Kieran Bew IGS 21 June 2024
I also considered that S7 part 2 might have been altered a bit from how it was originally planned. As we were wondering during filming of S7 that there was no Fersali on set. Lauren and Cesar both were busy on other projects. But lately we've seen them again in Glasgow, and I really wonder if they filmed some extra scenes we will see in S7 part 2. It's hard to imagine how the storyline about Claire returning to the US, Philadelphia for Henri Christian's health problems (Fergus and Marsali's child) could omit Fersali. So perhaps they added scenes to S7 part 2, hence the long delay for it? (I could be completely wrong but we will know when it airs and if we'll see Fersali in S7 part 2 we know)
Anyway, we don't know where S7 part 2 ends, but if we are still in 3 different time periods (which does look that way given Diarmaid (Buck) seems to work on S8 as well, I figure not all cast is always needed on set. I do think, well actually am quite sure, some already had some time off in May. So perhaps, depending on the characters needed they scheduled it that way that people can have a wee break. I do wonder though about crew members, but perhaps BOB, which already started filming earlier this year will be done by July or so, and crew can take a wee break as well.
As for Sam, I do have an idea why his schedule didn't fit the Highlander con in July... but I keep that for my self for now. When time comes I'll see if I was right about it or not.
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aoioozora · 21 hours
Text
Simon.
Part 11
Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9 - Part 10
Character: Simon Riley / Ghost Content: Biker! Ghost x Fem! Reader, strangers to lovers, fluff, civilian au TW: Mentions of murder Note: Thank you for your patience! Here is Simon's angsty backstory.
“Simon?” 
A beacon of harsh white light appeared right under the face of the shadow, illuminating its grim face and casting ominous shadows under its eyes, nose, cheekbones, and lips like the teller of a ghost story would do. She let out a frightened squeak before finally recognizing the face of the shadow.
“You scared me!” she chuckled as she put her hand over her racing heart.
“That was the point.” He laughed as he watched her climb up to the porch. Under the ghastly, sharp light of the torch, he playfully flashed a devious grin.
“Stop it, you look terrifying!” She exclaimed, shaking her head with a smile.
Simon switched off the torch and was hidden in the shadows again. It took a few moments for her eyes to adjust to the darkness again and to see him a little clearer. She could vaguely see him slouched on the bench, wrapped in a thin blanket from the elements.
“Can’t sleep?” she asked, now sitting next to him and placing Little Simon aside.
“Johnny’s snoring,” Simon shook his head, letting out an annoyed grumble, “Can’t sleep with such a delightful little jukebox cozied up next to me, you know.” He turned to her when she chuckled. “What about you?”
“I slept too much in the afternoon,” she sighed, “and so I sat up working on my novel, thinking I’d get sleepy soon enough, but that didn’t happen, so here I am.”
He let out a short “hmm” as he stared at the rain that was now falling a little heavier. ____ leaned forward to check on the tent.
“I hope the tent’s not getting wet inside,” she said.
“Don’t worry, it’s waterproofed. We’ve slept through many rainy nights in that tent, so it’ll be as right as rain,” he answered, smirking at his unexpected pun, and feeling quite gratified when he heard her chuckle. 
“I remember you made a rain pun the second time we met at the book cafe,” she remarked, continuing to giggle.
“What can I say,” he sighed a self-gratified sigh, now half-joking and half attempting to make her laugh again, “I can be pretty funny at times.”
“For sure,” she smiled and said with sincerity, “I really do think you’re funny.”
His eyebrows shot up slightly. Outside of his friends, he didn’t think anybody found him hilarious, knowing that he frightened most people with his massive build and dark, beady eyes, and his general serial-killer vibe. He felt a warmth build in his chest at her compliment and smiled gratefully.
“So do the three of you go camping often?” she asked.
“We usually go every weekend unless one of us is busy. Actually, it’s been a while since we went camping because Johnny and Gaz always have prior plans on the weekend.”
“And you never did?” 
Simon felt needles pricking him in the chest and he chuckled painfully at the question. “I rarely have plans with anyone except the lads. I normally spend my weekends going on long rides or I’d visit my family.” He inhaled the scent of the pattering rain, “I don’t have a lot of friends besides the lads and you.”
She gave him a sympathetic look and turned back to the rain. Feeling a shiver course through her body, she instinctively moved closer to Simon and sat shoulder to shoulder with him. “It’s cold,” she shivered and rubbed her goosebumped arms, “and I left my hoodie in the tent too.”
Simon immediately saw his chance and opened up the thin but warm blanket he was wrapped in. “We can share the blanket if you want to,” he invited, holding one of the corners of the blanket in his hand, opening it out to her.
She didn’t hesitate to move closer to him, and as she did, his arm wrapped around her shoulder and pulled her still closer, draping the large blanket over her body. Their legs pressed together, her shoulder pressed against his side, and her head found itself resting in the divot of his shoulder. His body radiated heat like a loaf of freshly baked banana bread that she couldn’t help but snuggle closer to him. Simon blushed and blushed; he was over the moon. Her closeness only increased his body heat and started revving his heart’s engines. He silently thanked the rain for being a wingman. 
As if in response to his silent gratitude, a cold wind blew, sending a spray of rain their way. Simon quickly raised the blanket over her face to shield her. 
“This man is forged by Chivalry himself,” she thought. “Oh wait, that’s a brilliant line! I should write it down.” But when she realised she didn’t bring her phone with her, she had to resort to carefully stashing it in her mind. For now, she decided to focus on how jittery and warm his touch made her feel, and wanting more of it, she moved closer again.
At her slight movement, his head turned slightly, hyper aware of how close his face was to hers. “Are you warm, darling?” He whispered, his voice carrying a slight tremor of the nervousness of a reclusive man experiencing an unknown but pleasant feeling.
“Warm and toasty like a marshmallow,” she answered, grinning gleefully at him.
His body burned at the sight of her smile. He tightened his arm around her shoulder, and she could feel his muscles tense and flex around her neck, and his fingers grazed lightly against her upper arm. His rugged shoulder was under her soft cheek. The damp air, the smell of laundry detergent and rainforest cologne from his clothes wafted to her nose, reminding her of the night she first met him. He could smell femininity from her proximity, and he inhaled sharply, pursing his lips tight and fighting the urge to lean down and kiss her senseless. 
“Simon,” she called, her voice soft.
“Yeah?” 
“You said you don’t have a lot of friends,” she began and then paused for a moment, “Were you never in contact with anyone from school or university?” 
She felt his body go stiff; she didn’t see it in the dark, but his jaw tightened too, and he answered through his teeth, “No darling, not one contact…”
His voice trailed off and a heavy silence from him followed. She sensed that there was something more hiding behind his tense answer, a hidden, brewing, twisting whirlpool in a blackened vase. She was afraid to pry, but her concern and curiosity overcame her. “How come?” she asked.
She could feel his chest expand as he inhaled a sharp, whistled breath. He cautioned in a whisper, “Darling, it’s not a pretty story.” His voice was solemn, and she understood that what was behind the reason was truly heavy and unpleasant. 
“Do you not want to tell me? She pressed gently, “I understand if you don’t want to.”
He looked at her, brows furrowed, eyes slightly narrowed, and jaw still taut. “If I tell you, you might hate me.” he thought, weighing his options. He knew that if he was to possibly date her one day, he’d have to reveal his murky past either way. And he wasn’t dating her now so, “the sooner the better. If she hates me now, so be it.” 
“Well…” he began, “As a lad, I was, to put it mildly, in bad company. And this bad company scared off any potential friends I could’ve made in school.” He paused, letting that information sink in first.
She asked, “What was this-” in air quotes, “-“bad company”?” 
No more beating around the bush when he admitted directly, “I was in a gang.” When he saw her wide eyes, he added, “Can’t get a lot of good friends in a gang, can you? Everyone and their mum would be too scared to associate.” 
She was silent for a while, and he looked at her with pursed lips and a tense brow, worried about her silence. “That’s…” she began, “wow.” She turned to look at him, and her eyes swept over his dark silhouette with a look that told him that she started to view him differently. She was both worried and intrigued by this; her opportunistic writer’s mind was selfishly curious. She shook off the feeling and chided herself to have some empathy for him. 
He’d half expected she’d get up and leave and never speak to him again, but her voice was still soft when she asked, “Why were you in a gang anyway?”
She was beginning to step deeper and deeper into the most vulnerable parts of him, and it made his stomach churn anxiously like a beaker filled with all the wrong chemicals. His knee bounced restlessly and he answered, “Didn’t have a lot of friends, darling. Johnny was my only friend back then, but I wanted more…” he inhaled shakily, “I wanted a whole group of friends. A clique. A posse.”
She looked understandingly at him, leaning a little further against his shoulder. His arm tightened around her shoulders, as if wanting more of and appreciating her support.
“I was about fourteen, right, and at that difficult age, fitting in with your peers means everything,” he sighed, absentmindedly rubbing his thumb against her shoulder, filling her with a warmth that she sadly had to ignore so that she could pay attention to him, “and I was invited to join the gang that had their turf around my school. One of the olders- that’s what the higher ranking members were called- scouted me and Johnny off the street. Johnny refused, but I accepted almost immediately.”
Her gaze never left him, even though he stared straight ahead at the now rainy lake. “And what was that like, being in a gang?” she asked.
“It was kind of fun at first to be honest, but the novelty wears off soon enough. It’s a dangerous, reckless business, especially for kids. You’re always being stopped by the police and searched for small knives, and they can even sniff out the safehouses where we stash drugs and weapons. There are always ongoing feuds between gangs, and the older, higher ranking members use the younger kids as their soldiers. The feuds can sometimes turn into turf wars too.” 
“Turf wars?”
“Each gang has their own territory, and there are consequences if you trespass. But the gang I was in was a strong one, and we had beaten down enough smaller gangs to expand our area in London, where I lived.”
There was a pause and she sat pondering for a moment. “Have you directly participated in a turf war, though?” she questioned.
“A couple, yes. As one of the youngers myself, I had to.” he nodded. He paused, pursing his lips for a moment before he admitted, “The last one I’ve been in landed me in prison.”
Her eyes flew wide with shock. “In prison?” she exclaimed.
Simon grimaced at her reaction, his worries only increasing. “I don’t think you want to know the details, darling.”
“But now I’m really curious,”
He hesitated. Well, he had come this far; there was no backing out now. He fiddled with his fingers as he continued, “I went to prison at the humble age of fourteen for… manslaughter.”
He now feared that she would definitely walk off and leave, but she sat there, still close next to him, her eyes widening further. She was frozen in silence for a long time, considering how he could have committed such a gruesome crime at such a young age. The patter of the rain and the howl of the wind filled the brief, heavy silence.
“I didn’t enjoy it,” he blurted truthfully, hoping it would keep her from seeing him as a heartless killer, “It was all an in-the-heat-of-the-moment thing. We got ganged up on in an alley, me and two other of my lads against five. It was a stab fest from there. Three were heavily injured, one of which succumbed to their injuries, and I killed the other two by stabbing them in the neck and chest,” he paused to point to his neck and then his heart. She could vaguely make out the remorse on his face in the darkness as he whispered, “I stabbed them like I was the senate stabbing Caesar.” 
Her jaw slackened and her brows furrowed, almost feeling like a cold blade had sunk into her own body upon hearing this dreadful account. Her chest tightened and her stomach and she felt a painful throb in her heart as she imagined what the situation would have looked like.
“I was stabbed too, in many places,” he said, turning his head and pointing to the curious scar on his cheek. As he pointed at a spot on the left side of his chest, his stomach, and his right thigh, he could remember how it felt to have the short, cold knives sink into his skin, how they twisted harshly enough to wring out strangled screams from his mouth and his lifeblood out of the wounds. As his fingers passed over the scars under the fabric of his t-shirt, they thrummed and tingled in response to his memories.
Her features winced as she imagined a juvenile Simon drenched in his own blood and the blood of his victims, staggering and out of breath as he remorsefully stared at the work of his hands, feeling the weight of his guilty conscience and of the heavy hand of the law that would soon follow. 
“Proper gangs are rarely in the business of killing, and they won’t kill unless they absolutely have to. As the youngers, we were instructed only to injure and never kill, because dead men tell no tales, and it’ll only start a vendetta. But I killed. And the two other lads who were with me abandoned me and didn’t want to associate,” he shook his head, “So much for wanting new friends.”
“Were you ever found out by your family?” she asked when she found her voice.
“Yeah, by my elder brother. The alley where the stabbing took place was not too far from our old residence, and Tommy happened to be taking a shortcut to go home. On the way, he caught me slinking around. When he saw all the blood on me, he was shocked. Bombarded me with tons of questions. He was furious when I told him everything and he smuggled me to our uncle John’s place.”
She grimaced slightly at the mention of her ex. Now that she thought of it, she remembered John telling her back then of his family member who was in prison, and of his visits there. To think that it had to be the same man in front of her.
Simon continued, “Tommy and I told our uncle about the whole thing and at first, he refused to shelter me since he didn’t want to get in trouble with the law. But after some convincing, he showed me some pity and let me stay with him. Of course, he didn’t do so without a price,” he paused to chuckle bitterly at the pun on his uncle’s surname, “the price being a severe lecture as he treated my wounds.” 
The lady sighed, feeling pity for him, and even a little for John too.
“Eventually,” he shifted in his seat, “the police found me, came knocking on my uncle’s door. He had no choice but to surrender me to them, and I was angry with him for it. But I guess it was for the best.”
There was a pause from him for a moment. She gently pried, “and what happened after that?”
“I was taken to court. Me and the lads who were with me,” he answered, “They got a slightly lighter sentence. A couple measly years in prison and rehab for them. But mine was pretty severe, even for a fourteen year old. Eight years in prison and rehab. Ten years if I was remorseless, but my guilt lightened my sentence.”
She gulped harshly, unable to imagine such a young boy in prison. “And your family… how did they take it?”
He let out a laboured sigh, his gaze towards the rainy lake going out of focus as he vividly recalled the reactions of his parents. “My mum was inconsolable. She cried when she heard about what I did. She cried in court and she cried nearly everyday I was in prison. Uncle and Tommy tried to comfort her, but she wouldn’t be comforted. It was only when I assured her that I was undergoing rehab and continuing my schooling from prison that she felt a little relieved.”
Her shoulders relaxed when she heard that. “What about your dad?”
She felt his body stiffen. He was silent for a moment before he answered sorrowfully, “My dad… he was deployed in Iraq when he heard of this. He was angry with me– actually, angry is an understatement, he was livid. If it weren’t for my mum and uncle, he’d have disowned me already.”
“Disowned!” she exclaimed softly.
“Yeah, disowned. Being a Colonel in the Army, he didn’t want a criminal, murderer son. He thought it was disgraceful and embarrassing.” he answered bitterly, “I can clearly remember the time he came to visit me in prison for the first and last time. He said, “having a son like you is worse than death”.”
The lady was shocked to hear this. “He said that?” Her brows furrowed and she felt a twinge in her heart. “That’s awful. How could he be so heartless and say that to a child?”
“Yeah…” his voice trailed off, “But he’s always been like that. Strict and hard on both me and my brother. I never liked him. I always wondered what mum saw in him to love.” He ran a hand through his hair wearily, “He was an absent father, physically and emotionally. My mum knew it. She didn’t want us to be without a positive male role model, so she asked her younger brother to help her raise us. That’s where uncle John comes in. I liked him way better.”
She pursed her lips, now understanding why Simon and John were so tight-knit. She then asked, “Did your dad ever get over this? I mean, it’s been years now.”
He sighed yet again, shaking his head resignedly. “Not at all. He refused to visit me in prison, refused to talk to me after I was released, and still doesn’t want to talk to me. From what I hear from Tommy, it seems that I have ruined his reputation as an officer and a father by being a criminal.” 
Her heart sank. She didn’t know what to say. She didn’t have to see his face to understand that he was deeply hurt by his father’s treatment. Looking down, she saw his clenched, trembling fist resting on his thigh. She gingerly placed her hand over his fist. It took him a moment but his fist loosened, and she gently stroked the back of his hand with her thumb to console him.
“I'm so sorry, Simon,” she whispered, her voice cracking slightly. 
Simon drew in a shaky breath, relieved that she was still by his side after hearing about his pathetic past. Her gentle touch soothed and calmed his anxieties and fears. “It's fine,” he managed to croak out, his reassurance ending in a weary sigh, “It's fine.”
“And now there's the family reunion to go to.” 
“I didn't want to go,” he admitted, “I only agreed for mum's sake. I honestly don't want to face my dad and have him look at me like I'm…” his jaw clenched, “the scum of the earth.”
She eased her caress on the back of his hand, and slipped her hand into his, giving him a squeeze so gentle it gave him butterflies. 
“Don't worry, you won't have to face him alone,” she declared quietly, “You've always had my back, and now it's my turn to have yours. If he or anyone says anything bad about you, I’ll fight them!” 
He chuckled at her determination and squeezed her hand back, feeling relief so strong that it felt like he was a barren land being bathed in rain for the first time in years. “You are too sweet,” he said, smiling a little. 
“Only for you, because you're special,” she giggled. 
An overwhelming feeling of warmth enveloped his body at her words. You’re special. The words replayed in his mind like a broken vinyl record. A lump choked his throat, and his eyes nearly welled up and burned with tears that threatened to spill over. He blinked them back quickly and steadied his breathing, not wanting her to know or see. He squeezed her shoulder, saying breathlessly, “Thank you.”
“Anything for you,” she couldn't help but think, almost wanting to lean in and kiss his forehead to reassure him further. But she held back. 
The two then sat in comfortable silence watching the rain until Simon felt the lady's weight grow heavier against him. He tilted his head down to check on her. 
“Darling?”
Silence. 
He strained his eyes in the dark and saw that she was fast asleep. Even in the loud patter of the rain, he could clearly hear her soft breathing. His heart melted at the sight. He had just revealed to her the bloodiest stain on his past and she still trusted him enough to fall asleep on his shoulder? Simon's chest swelled with elation and joy to witness such love from her. 
Peeking over her other side, he noticed Little Simon looking cold and forlorn. Smiling, he carefully reached over and took the soft toy, and lifting her arm up slightly, he tucked the little fellow against her stomach. He then adjusted the blanket over her so that she could experience maximum warmth. 
And then, the cherry on top. 
He lightly pressed his lips against her forehead, whispering with a tenderness foreign to him,
“Good night, my love.” 
End of Part 11.
Part 12 coming soon :)
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charmandabear · 11 hours
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Office Hours - Chapter Thirteen
Summary:
Astarion's reaction to your confession isn't at all what you expect.
Pairing: Astarion/f!Reader Rating: Explicit Word Count: 7.3k Tags/Warnings: slightly rough sex, piv, kink dynamics (honestly nothing new)
T_T When I tell y'all how emotional this has made me. Yes, this is the last chapter (for now.) I will almost immediately be starting on the sequel, a more slice-of-life exploration of their new relationship. I have far too many things planned to not keep going. Also, I know some people have mentioned that they appreciate the fact that Tav hasn't had any specific descriptions, and I do apologize, that will change. But on the bright side, it means I'm going to be able to continue to release my screenshots of the Professor and Rosalind.
Your support during all of this has meant so much to me, you have no idea. Any time I think that I feel like garbage, either about my writing or anything else, your comments really brighten my entire demeanor. So thank you, and thank you for your patience during this time. Now, onto the next one!
Read on AO3 ~ Masterlist
You keep your eyes glued to the screen for the last 14 minutes of Heathers without absorbing a second of it. You can feel Astarion stealing glances at you, but you steadfastly keep your head forward. When the show ends, you give Karlach and Shadowheart halfhearted goodbyes, purposefully avoiding Shadowheart’s suspicious stare. You busy yourself with picking up wine glasses and bringing them into the kitchen.
“You know, it was admittedly better than I thought it would be,” you say, trying to fill the awkward silence as you gather dishes. “It definitely made more of a pointed statement than I would have expected, and it’s thematically stronger than I initially realized.” You’re fully aware of the fact that you’re babbling but you can’t stop yourself. 
“Say it again,” you hear Astarion say behind you quietly. You freeze and slowly turn back to where he’s sitting on the couch. His expression is completely inscrutable.
“What?” Your mouth goes dry and a prickling heat crawls up the back of your neck. 
He stands and approaches you slowly, and you’ve never felt more like a trapped animal under his penetrating gaze.
“Say it again.” His voice is smooth as velvet and cold as ice. 
“Say what?” You know that your feigned innocence is unconvincing. He backs you up until you can feel the counter pressing into your spine. He stands close to you and tilts up your chin with his finger.
“You know what,” he whispers, and you feel like his eyes have never looked so red. You swallow thickly, working your jaw to try to regain use of your voice.
“I- I love you,” you choke out the words which ring hollow and almost meaningless in your ears. Astarion grabs your face, kissing you suddenly and roughly. You cling to him, your confusion doing nothing to abate the desperation and hunger with which you return his kiss. He twists his hands into your hair, almost bringing you up onto your toes with how forcefully he assaults your lips.
“Again,” he growls between breathless kisses, and your fists ball up into his shirt.
“I love you,” you gasp, and his hands tighten in your hair, pulling you impossibly closer. He scoops you up into his arms and your legs wrap tightly around his waist. He moves his lips to your jaw as he carries you to your bedroom.
“Again.” His voice is husky in your ear and suddenly the dam breaks, the words pouring out of you in a rush.
“I love you, Astarion,” you whimper into his neck as the two of you fall backwards onto your bed. “I love you so fucking much. I love you so much it hurts.” He peppers your neck and jaw with sloppy kisses as you cling to the back of his head.
“Again,” he groans, the word falling somewhere between a demand and a plea. He tears your tank top off you, making it the second piece of clothing today alone he’s destroyed. But you can hardly bring yourself to care – all that matters is your connection with him, his skin against yours, his breath in your ear. 
“I l-love you.” The words are breathy and uneven as you fumble at the button of your jeans, the wretched things only serving as a barrier between you. You paw hungrily at his waistband, unable to articulate your want. He pulls up onto his knees, eyes bright and wild as he unbuttons his pants.
“Say that you’re mine,” he snarls, and the possessive tone of his voice alone is enough to make you mewl like an animal in heat. 
“I’m yours, Astarion.” Your body writhes out of your control, a shiver running up your spine from the cool air caressing the slick lips of your pussy. “I’m your plaything, I belong to you.”
He dives back down onto you, his hungry kisses only increasing in fervor as the growing length of his cock presses against your cunt. You claw at his shoulders, desperate to feel every part of him, and his arms slide under your back, pulling you in even closer. 
“Good, yes, again.” He pushes your legs apart with his knee, grinding his cock against your cunt and your hips involuntarily buck up into him.
“I’m yours, I belong to you, I love you,” you babble, tears forming in the corners of your eyes as your heart beats loudly in your ears. He kisses your neck and you hold his head close, your fingers sliding through his silver curls.
“Don’t stop,” he grunts as he slides his cock into you and you cry out, the sting of the stretch elevated slightly from the lack of foreplay. 
“I love you.” You barely recognize the sound of your own voice anymore, you feel like a woman possessed. “Please, Astarion, please, I need you. I love you. I’m yours.”
“Fuck, yes, more, please,” he pleads, barely bothering to hide his desperation. He begins to fuck into you, slow and steady, and you pull his chest into yours. You wrap your arms around his back, across his scars, pressing the flat planes of his chest into your soft stomach and tits. 
“I love you.” Your voice cracks as sensations overwhelm your body. Astarion presses his forehead to yours and you grip the back of his neck, your two bodies moving in tandem. His cock drags along your walls as he presses your thighs up against your belly.
“Yes, Tav, say it again,” he huffs, picking up the pace and you let out a particularly high pitched whine at the sound of your name falling from his lips.
“I love you, Star. I love you, please don’t stop.” Your eyes well up with very real tears as your chest grows tight and you can feel your orgasm building in the depths of your core. You grind your hips up into him as he thrusts in and out of you, the wet sound of slapping skin almost drowning out your breathy repeated confessions. You pull him into you, your nails digging into his shoulders as you kiss him deeply, teetering on the edge.
“Tav, I–” He breaks the kiss just in time for a few final broken juts of his hips and he’s coming, setting off your own climax not long after. The pleasure ripples through your body as he clutches you close to him, your walls throbbing around the pulsing of his cock as he spills inside of you. 
The two of you stay connected, barely moving save for your heavy breathing as the waves of your orgasm finally settle. After what feels like both an eternity and far too soon, he pulls out of you and sits up, giving you the first chance to properly look at him. His hair is disheveled, and he had taken off his glasses at some point so you’re looking into those bright red eyes directly. He’s uncharacteristically flushed, something that usually only happens right after feeding, but you’re surprised to realize that he didn’t even try to bite you.
“Are you good?” you ask breathlessly, a little concerned by the slightly unhinged look in his eye. He pulls the mask back on quickly, but not before you’ve seen him without it.
“Yes darling, of course,” he flashes you a practiced smile and pulls you into a soft kiss. There’s still something gnawing at the back of your mind, but it quickly dissolves at the familiar feeling of his lips against yours. You melt into him, putty in his hands, his fingers in your hair giving you comfort and protection. “I’ll clean up. You sleep,” he murmurs into your skin. Your eyelids grow heavy almost against your will, and he kisses the top of your head. Your arm trails feebly after him as he stands and walks out of your bedroom. 
You crawl under the covers, too emotionally exhausted to even bother with brushing your teeth. You feel comforted by the casual domestic sounds of Astarion cleaning up outside your bedroom door. You’re almost fully asleep when you feel him slide into bed next to you. You snuggle back into him as he slips an arm around your waist and plants a soft kiss on your bare shoulder.
***
The sound of your alarm the next morning rattles through your skull, setting off your mild wine hangover. You swipe the alarm off and turn over to reach for Astarion only to find empty space. You sit up and blink yourself awake, listening closely to the ambient sounds in your apartment to see if he’s in the shower or making you breakfast, but all you can hear is the soft hum of your air filter. 
You try to quell your disappointment by reminding yourself that he spent the last 36 hours in your apartment and probably just needed to slip out before sunrise. Besides, he has class today, and he came to your apartment two days ago with absolutely nothing on him. It’s totally reasonable that he needed to leave early, and he probably just didn’t want to wake you.
The disappointment creeps up on you regardless.
You’re still not entirely sure how to process what happened last night. Did you really tell him that you love him? Did you mean it? His response was borderline feral. You weren’t particularly ready to say it, and he didn’t really seem ready to hear it. 
You shake your head and try to let the insecurity pass. Maybe it’s just a game he was playing again, like the night of Taming. Maybe when you see him today, you can just pretend it never happened.
It’s times like this that you really wish you had a pet. Your apartment isn’t very big, but it feels positively cavernous right now. At least if you had a dog, you’d be able to distract yourself with taking care of it. You throw on a robe and shoot Karlach a quick text as you head into the kitchen.
-Hey, where did you adopt Clive?
You see Astarion’s glasses on the kitchen counter and frown. Doesn’t he need those to see? You walk over and pick them up, noticing just how smudged they are. You clean them on the sleeve of your robe and hold them up to the light, and you’re surprised to realize that you can see right through them perfectly fine. You put them on and your vision doesn’t change at all.
He doesn’t need them to see, they’re completely cosmetic.
You burst out laughing, almost shocked that it took you this long to find out. You suspected it before you started dating, but you had chalked that up to your unreasonable bitterness towards him.
You take a selfie while wearing the glasses and sticking out your tongue. You look at the picture, delete it, take your hair out of its messy bun and tousle it around your face, then take the picture again. Good, much cuter. You send it to him along with the text:
-Caught you, you fucking liar.
Nice and casual, right? This will show him that nothing needs to change after last night, that it was just a scene that neither of you need to take too seriously. You take off Astarion’s glasses and fill the kettle with water for your coffee. You instinctively reach for the instant Folgers before remembering the fancy new stuff that he got for you. You had watched him make it, but frankly, you didn’t pay attention at all. How much are you supposed to grind? For how long? How much water?
You decide to just guess, grinding a tablespoon of beans until it looks like the instant coffee that you’re used to drinking. You pour the grinds into the French press and fill it about halfway with water. You sit on a barstool while it brews, staring at it impatiently.
Suddenly your phone buzzes, and your heart leaps thinking it’s a response to your glasses selfie. Instead, it’s from Karlach.
-omgggggggggggg soldier r u getting a dog? can i come????
Her enthusiasm makes you laugh. You lean forward on the kitchen island and reply.
-I’m thinking about it. You have tech at the end of this tenday, right?
-ah fuck. yea. what about the next fiveday break? we have a dark day before opening
-That’s perfect. I’ll text Shadowheart to see if she’s available.
Karlach’s response is instantaneous.
-she is
-🐶🦴🐾❤️‍🔥🎉🙌
Right, they’re practically living together at this point. You wonder vaguely if they’ve said it yet and your heart sinks. You might not be able to play it off as nonchalantly as you thought. 
You distract yourself by pouring your coffee. It’s a little more transparent than you’re used to seeing, but you figure that’s because they’re, like, golden beans or something. You could probably stand to learn more about coffee, especially if you’re going to start drinking the fancy stuff for Astarion, but that sounds like so much work. You pour a dollop of milk into your mug, trying to mimic the color of the coffee he made for you yesterday. You scoop in two teaspoons of sugar, stir it until it dissolves, and then take a sip.
It’s… not as good.
There are so many factors that you’re not sure which step you messed up. You compensate for the weak flavor with more milk, which makes it only slightly more tolerable. Regardless, it’s still better than the instant stuff, so you continue drinking it as you assemble a quick breakfast, making a mental note to get more specific instructions from Astarion. 
When you get to work, you pass his office in the hallway on the way to yours, and you’re surprised to find the door closed. You press your ear to the wood paneling, trying to hear if he’s talking to a student, but you’re met with silence on the other side. You knock, and there’s no answer. 
You frown to yourself. He’s probably just at a department meeting elsewhere in the building, right? Totally normal thing for ten o’clock in the morning. You check your texts with him, and it says that your message was sent, but not delivered. Maybe his phone died from spending so much time in your apartment, it’s not like he charged it or anything.
Yeah, that’s probably it.
You drop off your things at your desk and head to the main office to check your mail. You wonder if you’ll maybe see him in there, but it’s just Grace, clicking away at her computer. 
“Morning, Grace,” you say to her as you head to your mailbox. She waves at you cheerily.
“Morning Tav! Have you all decided on a season yet?” She leans forward in her chair, clearly fishing for gossip. You feel the heat rising in your neck as you remember Astarion’s suggestion of Romeo and Juliet.
“Uh, not quite, no. But fingers crossed that we’re close!” You smile at her awkwardly. Your eyes dart to the office door, hoping that he’ll just stroll in, but the doorway remains painfully empty. “Hey, uh, Grace, have you seen Ast– Dr. Ancunín yet today?”
She looks up as she tries to recall. “I don’t think so… But if he comes by, I can let you know you’re looking for him.”
“No, it’s fine,” you blurt quickly. Then, trying to play it cool, you add, “It’s not important, I’ll just tell him the next time we cross paths.” You don’t think you’d get in any sort of trouble with HR if people found out that the two of you are dating since you’re in different departments, but you’d still rather not deal with the rumor mill that is academia. You grab the fliers out of your mailbox, glancing at them briefly before tossing them in the trash and returning to your office. 
You lose yourself for a few hours in answering emails, organizing your notes on student scenes, and reading over your updated syllabus for the fall section of Classical Acting I. You almost jump in surprise when you hear a quiet knock on your open door. You look up to see an older tiefling gentleman hovering in the doorframe.
“Dr. Maier, hello!” you greet the chair of the English department politely. You’ve definitely seen him around, but you haven’t had much interaction with him other than a friendly wave in the hallway.
“Please, Zevlor is fine,” he says pleasantly. You breathe an internal sigh of relief – everyone in the theatre department just goes by their first name, and you find it impossible to keep up with the politics of honorifics in other departments. 
“Zevlor, yes, how can I help?” You close your laptop and gesture to the teal armchair across from your desk. He silently waves his hand as if to say, no, this will be quick.
“I’m terribly sorry to bother you, but is there any chance you’re free to cover English 340? Dr. Ancunín is nowhere to be found and his students are preparing for their final exam.” He wrings his hands nervously and you blink as you process what he’s telling you.
“Wait, what do you mean Dr. Ancunín is nowhere to be found?”
“No one has seen him since before the fiveday break, and none of his students received an email from him canceling class. He’s not answering any messages and his mobile is going straight to voicemail.” Zevlor rattles off the list on his fingers, unable to keep some of the snippiness out of his voice. You don’t blame him, honestly – Astarion isn’t exactly a team player, so it’s easy to imagine that he’s not the most pleasant colleague to work with.
“Um, sure, yeah. It’s in 110 downstairs, correct?” You pick up your laptop and your copy of the Bevington before briefly reconsidering and then pulling the Norton off your bookshelf. 
“Yes, it is. Thank you, you’re a lifesaver.” Zevlor clasps his hands and gives you a small bow before exiting your office. You jog downstairs and head towards 110. As you approach the door, you hear Mol’s brassy voice in the hallway.
“No, I swear, it’s in the department handbook and everything. If the teach’ don’t show up for fifteen minutes, you can leave!”
You laugh as you walk into the classroom. “Are students really still peddling that myth?”
“Oh hey, miss, you teachin’ us today? Where’s Ank-yunín?” She’s sitting backwards  atop her desk with her feet on the chair. 
“Dr. Ancunín had something come up.” You emphasize his name to correct her pronunciation. “And sit,” you add, pointing to the seat of her chair. 
“Will he be back before the final?” The girl you remember to be named Yenna asks anxiously. You hesitate, unsure how to answer.
“That… is the plan, yes,” you finally say, and she looks visibly relieved. Where the fuck did he go? And… this has nothing to do with last night, right?
Right?
***
The longer you don’t hear from him, the more worried you get. You keep checking the message with the selfie, but it still just reads ‘sent.’ Which means either his phone is off, or he’s gone somewhere that has no service.
Or he’s blocked you.
You shake off the thought, trying desperately to reassure yourself about his feelings for you, but the little insecurity gremlin grows louder with each passing day. And it keeps shouting one question louder than the rest.
“He didn’t say it back?” Karlach looks at you, mouth agape. You fiddle with the sleeves of your cardigan self consciously while Shadowheart just seethes. The three of you are walking down the street towards the Sword Coast Cafe, a pet cafe just outside the city. It’s been almost a tenday since you’ve seen or heard from Astarion, and seemingly no one in the English department has seen him, either.
“I didn’t realize it at first,” you admit sheepishly, “everything just happened so fast. Afterwards, I kept replaying what happened over and over and suddenly I realized that he didn’t say it.”
You open the door to the cafe and are greeted by a cheery-looking gnome with a mop of fiery red hair.
“Hello! Welcome to the Sword Coast Cafe! My name is Dringo, and I’ll be your docent,” he chuckles at his own joke. “Have you been here before, or is this your first time?”
“I have,” Karlach pipes up, then jabs her thumb over towards you. “My mate over here is the one looking for a new furry friend.” You give an awkward little wave.
“Fantastic! Why don’t you go ahead and fill out this questionnaire so we can try to match you with the perfect pet. Here are your potions of animal speaking,” he hands you a tray with three little shot glasses with a semi-viscous green liquid. “Those should last about an hour. Feel free to have a seat, the other animals might come up to you, they might not.” He gets very serious suddenly. “Please don’t approach any of the animals without their express consent. Sword Coast Cafe is not liable for any injuries that you may incur.”
You listen to his instructions, nodding along but only absorbing some of it. You look down at the questionnaire, and it’s filled with questions that you might find on a dating site. 
What are you looking for in a pet? Are you a morning or night person? Do you have any children? Are you outdoorsy or a homebody? Describe your perfect day off.
You down the shot of potion, and it tastes exactly the way a farm smells. You contort your face in disgust and Dringo looks at you sympathetically. But before long, the cacophony of meows, barks, and chirps slowly morphs into the sound of chatter, not unlike what it sounds like in a regular busy cafe. You make your way over to a cushy beanbag chair while Karlach plops herself on the floor and Shadowheart perches delicately on a pink wooden stool. They continue to pepper you with questions about Astarion while you fill out the form. 
“So he repeatedly demanded that you say it, but he never said it back,” Shadowheart deadpans, her eyes narrowing into a glare. “And then he disappears for a tenday without so much as a note?”
“He left his glasses,” you defend him in a very small voice.
“That he doesn’t really need to see!” she hisses, and a nearby calico gives her an indignant stare.
“Soldier, you sure that him disappearing even has anything to do with you? Maybe a family thing came up,” Karlach offers helpfully. You finish the questionnaire and hand it to Dringo to avoid answering her question.
“What family?” Shadowheart sneers. “There’s no way he has anyone left.”
Without the pen and paper to keep your hands busy, you start to fidget with your sweater again. “I only just started learning about his past, but I don’t get the sense that he’s in touch with any of his blood relatives, or even if they’re still alive,” you say quietly. You’re suddenly far more worried about his well-being than his feelings for you. “What if he’s hurt? What if his old master had some unknown ally and he’s been captured and–”
“Breathe, soldier. I’m sure nothing so drastic has happened,” Karlach reassures you with a hand on your knee, and you can feel her warmth through your tights. 
“A good dog will always find his way back home,” a voice from behind Karlach pipes up. You look over her shoulder and see a white dog with big brown eyes looking back at you. Karlach turns her head and gasps with delight.
“Well aren’t you just the most handsome fella?” she coos, and his tail starts wagging enthusiastically. 
“Hey buddy, what’s your name?” you ask, grateful for a distraction from the conversation about Astarion.
“They call me Scratch, here. You can call me that, too, friend,” he responds, and it’s only slightly jarring to hear his voice without his lips moving. But frankly, you’re pretty sure it would be more off putting if they did.
“Hiya, Scratch, it’s nice to meet you. I’m Tav, and these are my friends Shadowheart and Karlach,” you say, gesturing to each one in turn. He dips his head in a polite greeting.
“Did you have another good boy who ran away?” he asks, and Shadowheart snorts.
“I wouldn’t exactly call him a good boy,” she scoffs just as Karlach clarifies, “He didn’t exactly run away,” in the same cadence.
“Sort of,” you explain, “it’s a bit complicated.” He sniffs the air around you curiously.
“Well you smell very nice to me, so I’m sure he’ll come back soon,” he says with confidence. It’s only when your eyes start to well up that you realize just how much of a rollercoaster the past tenday has been.
“Scratch, may I pet you?” you ask, unable to keep your voice from cracking. His tail starts wagging again, and he bobs his head in an approximation of a nod. You reach out and give him scritches behind his ears as his head presses into your palm. You’re suddenly hit with a rush of emotions and your carefully built dam breaks, allowing the tears to flow freely. Scratch licks your face, making you laugh.
“Would you like me to keep you company while you’re waiting for your good boy to return?” he asks, and you press your forehead against his. 
“I’d like that a lot, buddy, thanks,” you say with only a mild tremor in your voice. You dabyour eyes on your sleeve to keep from smudging your makeup just as Dringo approaches you with a beautiful longhaired ginger cat.
“I think Malta here would be a great fit for you!” Dringo says excitedly, and the cat narrows his eyes suspiciously.
“The slightly less tall one had misunderstood the winds of fate. The cat and the taller one were not destined to become companions this day,” Malta narrates mysteriously, and you have to admit that you’re completely taken with this little weirdo.
“Wait, what?” Dringo looks at Malta, then back at you, before his eyes finally fall onto Scratch. “Oh! I didn’t realize that you were already in conversation with someone. I don’t think she’s the right choice for you, Scratch, she lives in a little apartment. You need a big house with a backyard, don’t you?”
Scratch looks at you expectantly. “Will you take me to the park?”
“Of course! As often as I can,” you assure him, and his tail wags again.
“Then I would like to go with Mistress,” he tells Dringo excitedly.
“The large, excitable white cat has already bonded with the tall one,” Malta notes. “Perhaps the tall one and the cat will meet in the future, but until that day comes, they were merely two ships passing in the night. When is that fateful day? Only Destiny could say.”
“Oh. My. Gods. I love him.” Karlach claps her hands over her mouth in excitement, and Malta looks at her appraisingly.
“The very, very warm one smelled of cinders and the musk of a stranger. The cat was far too cautious to make such a foolhardy mistake,” he says, turning his nose up at her. She nods along very seriously.
“The very warm one learned her lesson and decided to merely admire the cat from afar,” she narrates back to him, and his tail flicks in approval before he saunters off. Dringo blinks as though he’s trying to figure out how he got outsmarted by a cat.
“Well then,” he says, shaking his head, “I suppose I’ll draw up the paperwork for Scratch.” The dog dances on his front paws, his nails making happy little clacking noises on the wood floor.
You leave the cafe with an armful of supplies and Scratch padding happily behind you. You can feel the potion of animal speaking wearing off as his excited stream of consciousness fades into a series of quiet boofs and snuffs. 
You walk into the lobby of your building and Withers looks at you, then at Scratch, with narrowed eyes. He and the dog make eye contact for an uncomfortably long time, and you’re not sure if Withers is able to communicate telepathically. He finally looks back at you and nods solemnly. 
“The dog may stay,” he says in his gravelly voice. You’re fairly certain that your lease allows for up to two pets, but you appreciate getting his blessing regardless.
Once in your apartment, Scratch bounds happily around your living room as you put his food in the cabinet under the sink. You toss the bed Dringo gave you onto the floor under the window. You furrow your brow, trying to figure out the rules – you’ve never had a dog before.
“Am I supposed to… not let you on the couch or something?” you ask him hesitantly. He looks at you, his warm brown eyes sparkling. You look at your black faux-leather sofa, something you got for free off Craigslist, and shrug. It’s not like you’re super attached to it anyway. Besides, you don’t really mind cleaning, so if some of his white fur gets on it, you can just wipe it off.
Scratch continues to look at you, seemingly waiting for an answer. You look back at him, already missing the effects of the speak with animals potion. You’ll have to ask Astarion where he gets his.
Astarion.
It all comes crashing down on you at once. Accidentally saying ‘I love you,’ the deeply intense and overwhelming sex, and then him just… disappearing without a trace. Did he really run away? Just uproot himself and leave because… because what? Moved too fast? Revealed your past with Aradin? Probed too deep into his trauma? 
Or maybe it’s something else entirely. Maybe he’s dead in a ditch with a stake through his heart, or burnt to a crisp somewhere off the highway. Maybe he’s trapped in a dungeon somewhere being tortured at this very moment.
You try to take deep breaths, acknowledge your feelings without judgment, compartmentalize to deal with them later, reassure your various parts… but none of Jaheira’s techniques are working right now, and you collapse onto the couch, crying. Scratch hops up beside you and licks the tears from your face. You laugh in spite of yourself, an uncomfortable feeling as it mixes with the choking sobs. You pet him behind the ears and he drops his chin on your shoulder, almost like a dog version of a hug. You wrap your arms around his neck and continue to cry into his fur.
***
You’re curled up on your couch with your feet tucked underneath you, reading Dance Nation on your tablet while Scratch snoozes peacefully. The soft patter of rain on the window creates a pleasant ambient noise.
You’re startled out of your reverie when the intercom by your front door buzzes. You stare at it, confused because that almost never happens. Withers has some mysterious system for allowing visitors in that rarely requires any input from you. He just sort of knows who to let in and who not to.
You walk over to the intercom, not even a hundred percent sure how it works, but you press a button that you hope will allow him to hear you and say, “...yes?”
“Thou hast a visitor,” Withers’ voice crackles through the speaker, and your heart stops. “He is very wet,” he adds, and you slap a hand over your mouth to keep from laughing.
“I– Who is he? And why won’t you let him in?” You pause for a second before adding, “Is it… because he’s wet?”
“No, that is not my concern,” Withers clarifies. Then he pauses for a long moment. “His intentions… they are unclear,” he finally says.
“Will you please just let me in to see her, you batty old man!”
The voice is faint over the speaker, but it’s undeniably him. You scramble to press down the button to speak.
“Yes, Withers, please let him in, thank you,” you say in a rush. Your heart pounds as you quickly adjust your appearance, fixing your limp hair in the mirror next to your door. Then you wait. Is he taking the elevator or the stairs? How long would either option take? You grow antsy and you finally open the door to check the hallway only to find him standing on your welcome mat, fist raised mid-knock.
Without thinking, you grab his lapel and kiss him hard. Withers wasn’t lying when he said he’s wet. His lips are even colder than usual and the rain falls off his thin jacket in rivulets. You forcefully break the kiss and push him away, fuming.
“Astarion Ancunín, you did not just show up to my doorstep in the fucking rain like we live in some gods damned romcom!” you scold him, and he just stares at you with the most pathetic gleam in his wet, round eyes. 
“I don’t… sorry, what?” It seems like he was prepared for you to yell at him, but not about that specifically. You huff and roll your eyes, pulling him into your apartment dramatically.
“You’re getting water everywhere. Give me your jacket, take off your shoes, and tell me what the fuck happened,” you grumble, and his fingers fumble along his jacket buttons as he awkwardly kicks off his sopping shoes. You’re only taking a tiny bit of satisfaction at seeing him this flustered and uncomfortable. 
Scratch had hopped off the couch as soon as you opened the door, and now he trots up to Astarion, wagging his tail and lolling his tongue.
“You… got a dog?” he asks blankly, and you yank his jacket off his shoulders with maybe a little more force than necessary. 
“Yeah, I got lonely,” you spit, trying to sound angry, but just comes off as sad. He looks away from you, ashamed, and you sigh as you hang up his coat. “Please just… What happened? Did I cross a line, or something?” Your voice is very small, and he whirls on you suddenly.
“No!” he almost shouts, but he catches himself quickly. “No, please, I don’t want you to think that, not for a second. Can we sit?” He gestures to your couch and you follow his lead. Scratch jumps onto the couch between you, excited for double pets. You gently push him off and point to his bed.
“Not now, bud. Go lie down, me and… my good boy need to talk.” You smile to yourself and Astarion’s ears twitch self-consciously. You had planned to let him speak first but the words tumble out of you without any forethought. “Can I just say that I’m so sorry if I freaked you out, I never want to put you in an uncomfortable position like that, and I never even actually meant to say it in the first place.” 
Astarion looks ready to interrupt you but stops suddenly. “Oh, you– you didn’t? Well of course, I- obviously–” he splutters uncharacteristically before you clap your hands over your mouth, realizing your mistake.
“I mean, no, I did, like I wanted to say it, I just didn’t want to say it like that,” you clarify quickly, and Astarion visibly relaxes. He takes a deep breath and runs his hands through his wet hair, giving it an unusual slicked back look.
“For two centuries, my body did not belong to me. Not just as a thrall to Cazador,” he spits the name again, in almost the exact same tone as the last time. “But to his victims that I would need to… seduce in order to lure them back to his castle.” His eyes go unfocused and you’re not sure the best way to comfort him. After a moment’s hesitation, you settle your hand on his knee and rub small soothing circles with your thumb. He blinks as he returns to reality, his gaze shifting to you before the corners of his mouth turn up in the smallest hint of a smile.
“Astarion, I… I didn’t know. I’m so sorry,” you finally say, your voice breaking. He takes your hand and shakes his head.
“It’s hardly the worst thing that happened, and also not what I’m trying to say,” he says with a humorless laugh. “No, I mean after I gained my freedom, I grew very selfish. All that mattered was my comfort, my desires, my safety.”
“But that makes sense! You had everything ripped away from you, you deserved a little selfishness.” You get suddenly heated, almost like you’re defending Astarion against someone who isn’t there.
“Perhaps, but it was an easy way to grow lonely and bitter. After all, no one had ever looked out for me, so why should I waste my time caring about anyone else? I could harness my well-honed skills of seduction to get what I wanted with no regard to the consequences it might have on others. It was easy, and I was very good at it.” Astarion looks at you thoughtfully, his eyes roaming over every detail of your face, and you shrink back slightly under the intensity of his gaze.
“But you immediately saw right through me. That was a rare occurrence, and I was infatuated with the novelty. None of my old standbys worked on you. I needed to get creative in my methods to seduce you. Which led to perhaps my most ill-advised scheme yet.” He looks at you meaningfully, and you don’t need more than that to know that he’s talking about the night he took you to see Taming.
“When I realized my mistake, it should have been all too easy to move on, find a new mark. But I… simply didn’t want to. The thought of no longer spending time together felt awful. I felt awful.” He sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose like he’s fighting off a headache. You chew on your lip, trying to figure out where he’s going with all of this. You open your mouth several times to ask a question, but close it as the words die on your tongue. Finally, after what seems like an eternity, he continues.
“So when you said… what you said,” he murmurs, still unable to repeat the words, “something in me… broke, I suppose. Maybe it was something that needed to break. But whatever it was, I lost control of it, and I was embarrassed. And, frankly, terrified. So I left.”
You look at him, his brow furrowed, wringing his hands in discomfort, his eyes darting around the room, and suddenly the whole situation strikes you as hysterical. The laughter bubbles out of you before you can stop it, and Astarion looks at you with concern while you cover your mouth with your hand and your shoulders begin to silently shake. When you finally manage to get your giggles under control, you stare at him with wild eyes.
“Astarion, I spent five years of my life with the worst fucking person imaginable. Never once did it feel like he cared about what I wanted. But I told him I loved him anyway, ‘cause I guess, I thought I was supposed to?” You grip his knee as your eyes begin to well with giddy tears. “And here you are, calling yourself selfish, when you care more about what I want than anyone else ever did.” You begin to laugh again, the absurdity overtaking you, and Astarion’s frown deepens. “You understood me so well that you crafted every single aspect of an entire evening and got the exact reaction that you expected. Was it fucked up? Yeah, completely! But it still showed me the lengths you were willing to go to give me something that I wanted. Something that I didn’t even know I wanted.”
You sit back and the tears begin to earnestly fall. Astarion stares at you helplessly as you laugh-cry uncontrollably, everything overtaking you at once. He finally decides to pull you into his lap and you bury your face into his chest, your tears falling onto his already damp shirt. 
You have no idea how long he holds you for, but eventually you regain control of your breath and mutter, “You idiot,” before pulling him into a kiss. You tangle your fingers into his wet hair, and his hands, unsteady at first, finally rest on your lower back. You break the kiss and hum against his lips, “You don’t need to say it back. And I’ll say it as much or as little as you want. Oh!” You suddenly leap off the couch and over to the kitchen to grab Astarion’s glasses which are still sitting on the counter, staring at you every morning as you gradually learn how to grind and press your own coffee.
You bring them over to him and straddle his lap as you awkwardly put them on his face, almost poking his eye out in the process. “Now why in the hells would a vampire with perfect vision need glasses?” Your tone is playfully accusatory.
“Would you believe me if I said that they make English academics take me more seriously?” he asks with a bashful grin. You brush your fingers through his hair, styling the front into his more standard swoop.
“I absolutely believe you, they’re weirdos.” You run a finger over the arm of his glasses and to his ear, and he shudders. “You used to wear your wire frame ones a lot more, what happened to those?”
“You told me that you liked these,” he replies like it’s the most obvious answer in the world, and your cheeks flush. “Why, do you like the other ones more?”
You wrap your arms around his neck and press your lips to his, letting your tongue swipe gently across his still chilled skin. “I like you,” you breathe, keeping your faces in close proximity. He rests his hands on your hips and pulls away, studying you carefully. Then, in a low voice, he says, “There’s a box in the lining of my jacket. Can you grab it for me, darling?”
Panic begins to set in. Box? Wait, no, hold on. You’ve barely gotten up the nerve to say I love you, you’re not ready for marriage, is he joking? Does he really think he’s in a romcom?
He watches your face cycle through emotions like a rolodex and he laughs. “It’s not a ring, don’t worry.”
“Gods above, Astarion, you can’t do that to me, I’m very fragile,” you say on a shaky exhale before standing up and retrieving his coat. You reach into the inner pocket and pull out a flat square box, around five or six inches in diameter. He stands and comes up behind you, resting his hands on your waist and peering over your shoulder.
You open the box and nestled in red satin is a thin leather choker with a dangling o-ring. You look back at him over your shoulder and his grin widens.
“Star, is this–” the words catch on your tongue as you turn back around to face him. He gently lifts the collar out of the box and slips it around your neck, his hands sliding into your hair once it’s fastened. He kisses you, softly at first, but soon you pull him into you, kissing him back hard. You deepen the kiss, slipping your tongue past his lips and puncturing it with his fang. A drop of blood mixes into your mouths and he tries to suppress a whimper, his hands tightening in your hair.
Then, almost as quickly as it escalated, he brings the kiss back to tender, cupping the back of your head gently. He turns you back around, facing the mirror for you to see your flushed and well-kissed face, your heavy-lidded eyes, and the thin strip of leather around your neck. You see your hair get brushed from your shoulder by a seemingly invisible force and feel his lips pressed against your ear.
“I love you, too.”
*~*~*
@viowolf @blueguildhunter @blissliz @genderearthquake @arianna-irwynarn @moochiepoo @duskrosecreatesstuff @imjiminiebean @queenofcarrotflowers-s @communistfries @0atcakes @alcidence @pursuitseternal @marlowethebard @preciouslittlebhaalbae @rigorssamsa @marvellover-12 @gylving @beepersteeper @wisteriaofthegraves
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lover-of-mine · 3 days
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Low key on Oliver and Ryan. Since we know they watch us. I think he was offended at people turning on Ryan. Sure they probably don't have scripts yet but they know the direction and were probably already told you know? It's why he never promoted the pairing or followed Lou. Especially when the other side made the attacks on Ryan so personal. It's a double offense really. They built this ship. Do you think Oliver is cool getting all the accolades and leaving Ryan behind for a wal mart version of Eddie??? Just know the other side, Oliver is judging you!!
That's my Roman Empire 😂
Full conspiracy theory, but I keep saying Ryan has known where it's going and that's why he was locked into pr jail, and Oliver was just brought into the inner circle and that's why he looks so frustrated, but here's the thing, Oliver and Ryan know what they have in their hands when it comes to the impact buddie could have, there's no way they don't, and obviously, they would want that, the amount of exposure they could get from this is insane, and Oliver seems annoyed, just look at the way he refuses to talk about bt long or like you said, didn't follow Lou, or the absolute insanity of opening his Instagram after 710 just to like a video of the thumb thing and nothing else. Realistically dude is probably frustrated that Buck being bi stopped being about Buck, trapped him in a ship war and made people turn on the thing they've been working on for yeaaaaars and the way Lou was encouraging it probably didn't help. I don't blame Lou for capitalizing, if people wanted to pay me 145 dollars to talk out of my ass about a ship I would be doing it too, hell, I'm running this blog for free kapakapka. But my thing is, the plan was Eddie going first and that got switched mid production, so, again conspiracy theory, my thought process here is that Oliver and Ryan were told "okay abc is cool with it, we're pulling the trigger" because that would explain the way they were acting that week leading up to the season premiering, the way Ryan was just saying shit and Oliver was in a perpetual state of blushing, but then T was better received than expected and the showrunners decided to capitalize on that for longer than anticipated, because looking at it from a business perspective, they already had s8 confirmed and they are probably expecting the same level of exposure they got from Buck being bi to come from Eddie being queer, especially because Eddie being queer means buddie going canon, so delaying Eddie's arc because they want to make the most of the publicity makes sense (rip Eddie confirmed queer by family feud, we will make it true, I promise), it would explain why Ryan changed his tune during the promo for 707 and 709, but switch back after 710 and it would also explain why Buck was pushed to the background during that space too. Tim keeps saying he doesn't have a plan, while I do believe he doesn't have the exact plot, I REFUSE to believe someone can manage to setup a love story like buddie accidentally and just going with the flow. A show is a living organism in a way a book or a movie won't be because it needs to adjust to the circumstances in which it's airing, but I cannot believe they don't have some sort of outline with the ideas they want to give, the general way they want to get there and the endgame of the situation. And I've been saying this since s6 and the very blatant switch in tone with Buck and Eddie in 6b when they thought they were gonna get cancelled that they promptly pretended wasn't there once s7 started. If I, a girl with a blog in the middle of nowhere Brazil getting absolutely nothing out of it, can see that buddie can accomplish something that doesn't exist in media, there isn't a slow burn queer relationship where both characters were not introduced as queer that go through so much together they can't help but falling in love in a media that isn't about queer themes, hell, I can't think of one from something about queer themes, you think people who have been working on this for years can't see it too? Come on, Oliver knows that Buck ending up with walmart Eddie is worst case scenario when compared to the thing he could have if buddie goes canon. And Ryan is his friend, Buck is this thing he pours his soul into, of course he will want the best possible thing there. He so is judging the other side. Dude admitted to crying in the shower to buddie edits. They read fanfiction. Like, come oooooon, they are driving the clown car, cocaptains of the ship.
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brandyllyn · 15 hours
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Silk from their soul (21)
The Ghoul / Cooper Howard x f!reader [no use of y/n]
Rated: T Words: 2k Summary: Walking after midnight
Series Masterlist My Masterlist
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The three men are Travis, Javier, and Bossman. You knew that wasn’t his actual name but so far no one had called him anything different. He was the one that the Cowboyhad seemed to know. The youngest, Travis, was guarding you and you made a point of being overly solicitous. Giving him wide smiles and thanking him when he helped you tend to business.
The Cowboy hated it.
Every time you batted your eyelashes at the boy, or touched him on the arm, you could see a vein start to throb on the Cowboy’s forehead. It gave you the tiniest bit of satisfaction to see it. 
They were letting him walk free, for the moment, but you caught the glances Javier and Bossman kept throwing him. It had been a split second decision, saving his life. Or maybe you had just been saving yours. Could you both have survived a shootout? Maybe. But you weren’t ready to risk that just yet.
You wait til Travis is next to you and purposefully trip, grabbing for his arm as you fall in slow motion. The boy is there immediately and you let your fingers rub across the inside of his wrist as you part your lips and gasp up at him.
“Oh my, thank you so much.”
The Cowboy snorts. You ignore it.
Travis is staring at you like he’s never seen a woman before. Good, you can work with that.
“I’m so sorry, my feet are really hurting. Is there any way we could stop for a bit? Let me rest?” You twist as you ask the question, turning his hand so the back of it brushes across your breast.
Was that a growl?
“Yeah, yeah we can do that,” Travis tells you with a blank gaze. You should probably feel bad about what you’re doing but it wasn’t your fault the kid had a weak mind. He yells at the other two that you’re taking a break and after some brief bickering between the men you lower yourself next to a rusted out car and primly fold your feet under you.
“If don’t suppose you gentleman brought any food?” you ask, purposefully hiding the slightly hopeful lilt to your voice. 
“Beans,” Javier grunts, pulling a dented can from his pack. “Ain’t nothing fancy.”
“Oh!” You brighten and sit up straighter, purposefully pushing your breasts towards him. “He has my pack with my spices in it - I’m sure I could make us all something lovely.”
“What kind of spices?” Bossman asks skeptically and you hide your grin.
There were two ways to a man’s heart…
They have to cut your wrists free so you can cook and you make a point of laying a thankful hand on Javier’s arm as he does so. He blinks at you a moment before turning away and you hum a tune as you start a small fire and hang a pot over it.
“Never cooked a damn thing for me,” the Cowboy grunts from nearby.
“Maybe I don’t like you as much,” you tell him brightly, winking at Bossman. He seems startled but grins at you in return.
Yeah, someone is definitely growling. You have a pretty good idea who.
You keep them all engaged in idle chatter as you add a variety of things to the beans, including some meat from the Cowboy’s pack. His lips twitch as you do so and you try not to think too hard about what it might be.
What they don’t know won’t hurt them.
When you finish you have a passable recreation of a comfort dish from long before the great war and you offer heaping spoonfuls to the men.
“Strong men like you need a good portion,” you tell Javier, adding an extra scoop.
“I’d hate to see you go hungry,” you tell Bossman, letting your lips part and trying to look concerned.
“Bullshit.”
The word is barely audible and you give the Cowboy a quick glare before turning your attention to Travis. “Is there anything else I can do?”
You were, in short, the perfect hostess. Part and parcel of being the perfect wife. The perfect partner. The perfect everything.
The pheromones you’re giving off in droves probably help too. 
It takes a little concentration to do it, to turn on the charm that makes people’s jaws go slack and eyes cross. You have to focus on being soft, giving, keep your emotions in check. 
The Cowboy is not helping.
“You gonna serve me up a bit of that slop?”
Your smile becomes strained and you blink at him for a moment before replying. “Sure! Got a bowl?”
He holds out a beaten up cup and you give him about half what you’d given everyone else. His forehead moves, raising a non-existent eyebrow, and your lips press together as you dare him to say something.
“Thank you kindly.”
You don’t hit him with the spoon. That would give the game away.
Instead you take your meal and settle down between Bossman and Javier, close enough your knees touch theirs. The Cowboy watches you thoughtfully and you do your best to ignore him.
“I didn’t realize how hard it would be to be out here on my own,” you say after a few minutes pass. “Everything is so dangerous.”
Travis nods at you, eyes wide, while Bossman scoffs. “Takes someone hard as nails to survive out here.”
The Cowboy snorts and you quickly cough to cover it up. “I just thought I’d see the world a little bit, you know? But I think… I mean, I’m really grateful you all found me.”
“We’re here to help,” Javier says with about half as much sarcasm as you might have expected.
“Ain’t we just,” the Cowboy chimes in and you meet his eyes. 
Shut the fuck up, you try to tell him with your mind.
What the fuck are you doing? He seems to beam back.
With an overly dramatic yawn you stretch your arms out, taking a deep inhale and purposefully not noticing how the assembled company stare at your chest. “I suppose we should continue on? I’m so tired…”
The men exchange a glance while the Cowboy continues to give you an incredulous look. Bossman is who speaks up.
“Reckon we can spend the night here as good as any, sun’s about to set soon anyway.”
“Oh really?” You reach over and put a hand on his knee, concentrating all your energy on him. “That would be lovely.”
He looks a bit starstruck and you pull your pack close to you, futzing with it a moment before laying down and using it as a pillow. You keep up your internal monologue - soft, gentle, caring - while you fake falling asleep.
After a few moments you hear the Cowboy cough, and then the sound of his inhaler.
“You got enough of that shit, ghoul?”
“I won’t be eating any of you fellas in the night if that’s what you’re asking.”
A silence and then, “Well, I’d feel safer if you were tied up.”
“I bet you would.”
There’s a slight scuffle of feet, not a fight, just two people trying to move quickly, and you peek out to see two of them tying the Cowboy to an old phone pole.
“Ain’t nothing personal,” Bossman tells him and the Cowboy shrugs.
“I’ll try not to take it that way.”
You pretend to sleep on, not a single restraint on you.
It takes four hours before you’re ready to implement phase two of your plan. It’s well past dark and the snores next to you are loud enough to wake the dead. If you’re right, Travis is on watch.
He doesn’t have a chance.
You stretch with your back to him, rubbing at your eyes and feigning sleepiness. When you spot him you give a ‘surprised’ smile and move his direction with your pack. Setting it nearby you use it as a rest as you sit down.
“Got the short straw, huh?”
Travis nods, eyes focused on the fire and not the mile of thigh you may or may not be showing him. He seems like a good kid - awful line of work but a good kid. From the corner of your eye you note the Cowboy is watching you both, although he’s mercifully silent.
“Your back must be killing you,” you tell him softly. When he doesn’t reply you reach over and gently massage the back of his neck. “Oh wow, you’re so tense.”
“Gotta stay awake,” he finally mumbles and you tsk softly, moving behind him.
“Let me help with this, I’ll feel safer knowing you’re not in any pain.”
It doesn’t take a moment to find the artery you’re looking for, and Travis is in such a daze he doesn’t notice you’ve cut off the blood flow to his brain until it’s too late to fight back. You lay him down with careful hands, being sure not to let anything make noise as you do. You finish him with a shot of tranq.
“Nice work.”
Your eyes fly to the Cowboy and he’s giving you an approving smile. A quick check shows that the other two are still sleeping and you stand with your bag, debating what you might want to take.
“Take the kid’s gun,” he says quietly, “you’ll need it.”
Dammit he’s right.
You take the rifle and what ammunition you can find and turn to go before you hesitate. You glance back at the Cowboy and he quickly shakes his head.
“Don’t waste time on me, darlin’. Get yourself out of Dodge.”
With a nod you leave Cooper there, setting off into the darkness. You hadn’t killed the kid, although you probably should have, and the tranq was barely a few drops. Just what was left after Cooper had tranqed you. But it should buy you a half hour, maybe more.
It buys you a mile, give or take.
Sounds carries in the desert so when the men start shouting you can hear it echoing. A glance back at the fire shows shadows occasionally blocking it and you quicken your pace. As long as Cooper doesn’t give up your direction you should be fine til morning.
Were you terrible for leaving him behind?
You pause, staring off at the dark shape of the mountains. You didn’t owe him a damn thing, absolutely not. But also… you weren’t the kind of person to just leave people like that either.
Aren’t you? a tiny voice in your head mocks.
Visions of faces just like yours, racks of people waiting to be sold to the highest bidder. They were still there, at the facility. If you made it away Galen would just sell the next girl on the list. And the next. You were pretty sure he’d been alive since the bombs fell - who knew how long he could keep this all going.
Did you owe it to the women just like you to stop it?
Could you live with yourself if you didn’t?
With a heavy sigh you find a nearby rock and pull your feet up, waiting for the search party. It takes them a while, probably another two hours while you grow even firmer in your resolve. It’s Javier who eventually ‘sneaks’ up on you. Whacking you across the back of your head so hard you slam face first into the rock below.
Twice in two days, probably not good for you.
You come up with a curse, spitting out blood and tonguing at a tooth that feels loose. Hands immediately pull you to your feet, tying your wrists together behind your back and shoving you back towards the fire.
“Bitch,” he grunts and you try to get your wits back around you. What would you do if you were still running? How would you act?
“Please let me go,” you plead softly. “I’ll do anything.”
You stumble next to Javier as he drags you back towards the fire, hitting the dirt more than once with nothing to break your fall. He jerks you to your feet each time, muttering things to himself until you’re moving again.
“You telling me you didn’t see a damn thing?”
“I was sleeping, same as you,” Cooper’s voice drawls as you re-enter the firelight. He glances up at you and his jaw hardens. You know you must look a mess, you can taste blood and you’ve fallen face first to the ground more than once.
“There you are,” Bossman grunts, coming to stand in front of you. “Bet you thought you had us.”
Travis is nursing a black eye which you feel a little bad about. But you don’t say anything as they untie Cooper - who rubs at his wrists and gives them an assessing look - and then use those same ropes to truss you up. As they move away he takes a step closer, barely speaking above a whisper.
“How far d’you get?”
“Too far… not far enough.”
He grunts. “Lost the element of surprise now.”
“It’s fine,” you sigh, “I don’t need it.”
He turns to you with a fully quizzical look before someone’s voice calls out and he goes to sit nearer to the fire. But he watches you the rest of the night, eyes burning with unasked questions.
☢ ☢ ☢
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judesmoonbeauty · 1 day
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Jude's True Vow Wedding Event - A Dissection ☾.
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Yes, I realize that I am extremely biased, but after a few days, and re-reading his CE story from BW: A True Vow For The Jet-Black bride, I thought it'd be fun to pick everything apart and dive deeper into his qualities, (And I'm talking more than just "He doesn't like the mistreatment of women"). It's quite lengthy, but I hope you all like it. Under the cut due to spoilers about Ellis' route as well. And these are just my personal notes and thoughts, you don't have to agree, but please don't gripe about it.
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Jude: In a week, no attendees, ‘n I bought a few dresses, so pick whatever ya like.
At first glance, you might think he’s being a rich jerk, but let’s break it down.
Thoughtful & Protective: Jude went out of his way to buy a number of dresses for Kate to choose from, and I love him for it. He could’ve just bought one based on his personal preferences and said, “Here, we’re getting hitched, wear this.” But, he didn’t do that, he let her have options. Obviously, he didn’t allow her to go to a boutique to have one custom-fitted, no doubt because people know who she is, and it runs risk of her getting hurt. Still, even ready-made dresses can be altered by Crown staff (which I’m sure is what happened.)
What it boils down to is this: Jude was protecting his bride, and yet he still still allowed her the experience of looking over different dresses, and no doubt trying them on just as she would’ve done at a boutique for a more normal wedding. Also, he’s a very busy guy, and not just with roughing people up over collections, his trading company - Raven - is extremely successful with several branches expanding, so the fact that he took the time to even do this for her is endearing. He gave his beloved the bridal experience she deserves.
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Jude’s eyes widened when he saw me. Jude: Suits ya.
This is just because. I just love that Jude is Jude, and this is his way of saying she’s beautiful, and I gush over it.
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Jude: You’re goin’ to hell, too. (There is a SEPARATE thesis on this line that I am compiling.)
Considerate & Yielding: “Considerate? The heck are you saying Ciele? How’s that the case?” Before I explain, let me just say that I laughed so hard at this sentence because it’s soooo Jude, and no one (at least I hope no one), says that to the love of their life while they are at the altar. So I can see why people might hate for him for saying that, especially if you know nothing about this guy. Some of you do and still dislike him and that’s okay, but the reason why I say he’s being considerate is because from the very beginning, he’s hated the fact that Kate was literally dragged into Crown, when she did nothing wrong. Kate herself says in this story, that out of all the Crown members he was the one who worked so hard to have her return to her normal life. Here are some reasons:
She’s innocent. She doesn’t deserve to die.
We’ve seen in his POV events such as his first Black Wedding event, and his 1st Anniversary event, that he finds it unthinkable that someone like her would be with him (the total opposite of his wickedness).
From his POV of his 1st Anniversary SE Premium Ending: (I know. The most disgusting person is the one who thinks it's okay to be with her.) Throughout the entire story, he is trying to send her home, and he uses underhanded methods to do it, but by the end of the story, he’s captivated by the determined look in her eyes, and he’s absolutely disgusted with the fact that he’s starting to think it’s okay for her to be with him.
When I thought of it, I personally feel like Jude is reminding her that if she chooses to marry him, (Or perhaps because she does something in his route that could be considered condemnable), she’ll fall to hell with him. Which is ironic seeing that they’re getting married in a church knowing that (separate thesis later).
Either way, Kate mentions that he says this with a complicated expression, and I think it’s clearly because he is still uncomfortable with her (some one whom he considers to be clean), staying with someone like him. Still, he apparently loves her so much for her determination, that he is willing to accept someone who’s willing to go to hell with him, whether that’s a figurative hell or literal one.
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Jude: ……Heard ya told Ellis ya wanted a weddin’ ceremony.
Attentive: Well, yeah. He’s attentive by nature as a businessman, but I love that he channels this into his lover as well. You can be attentive to your work and neglect your mate’s wants and needs, so 10/10 hubby material here. It’s also kind of cute in a way that he dodges Kate’s question about how he found out about that. Either Ellis blabbed (which is totally feasible), or Jude overheard the conversation himself, and our information junkie no doubt has his ways of getting that information easily.
Now, we don’t know how much time passed from the time Jude heard that bit of info, to them actually marrying, but he put every thing together fluidly and he thought of everything. Her dress, the venue, security, the attendees (or lack of), and the time it’d take place - he arranged it all on his own and surprised her with a wedding. That’s a lot of work all on it’s own on top his personal work, Crown missions, and his hobbies. Kate didn’t have to lift a finger. Sign me up.
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Jude: I can’t have a normal life, and I can’t have the married life you’re thinkin’ of. If ya wanna turn back - do it now.
Straightforward: We all know that he doesn’t have a problem voicing his thoughts or opinions, and it’s not beneath him to withhold information, or to skirt around an issue. However, by now he is very clear about what he can’t give her. They will never have a normal life together and he can’t give her that white picket fence marriage most dream of, and I respect him for that. He isn’t going to entice her to enter into this marriage contract with empty promises of a future they will never enjoy.
Fair: For lack of a better word, I feel that he is very fair. Take this moment of him and her alone in the church as he presents her with a contract. He’s offering her a fair chance to leave him before she signs her life away to him, and more than that, Jude dignifies Kate by allowing her the choice to run from him one last time (assumptive), prior to signing the marriage contract. He doesn’t force her to stay with him, and was even prepared to offer her time to think it over. To be honest, I expect to seem something in his route, so this is his last effort to let her leave because he will never let her go afterwards.
And he’s always been fair, even when dealing with trash on his missions, instead of killing them off, he gives them the chance to keep their lives through rigorous labor. Now, we all know they are either sent to the coal mine or the lab for presumed human experimentation, but Jude actually values human life. He doesn’t kill unless he really needs to, or if the person is deemed completely worthless, so while it’s not the best end for the person who enters into a slavery contract with him, it’s the fact that he has the minimal amount of human decency to offer them options.
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The marriage vows themselves.
Cautious, Faithful, Communicative, Wise & Romantic: Their mutual vows are as follows: 1. I have no objection to this marriage. 2. Infidelity is strictly prohibited. 3. Regarding money transfers, a separate contract will be prepared and a mutual agreement will be reached.
I promise to make this hell we share together a life filled with happiness.
I think it’s all kind of self-explanatory, but I can see how some might roll their eyes at the fact that he’d make her sign their marriage vows with financial stipulations, but this is Jude and he always has a reason behind his actions. I’m confident in that he’s not only doing this to protect himself, but her as well. Look, let’s be real, when we get married we are combining households and we are also taking on another person’s debt so to speak…..what I mean is, if my credit is clean, but my spouses is not, it limits a lot of options for us. Also, exchanging money and sharing expenses can cause a LOT of problems if you don’t discuss these things prior to getting married. He is wise to exercise caution (especially since he’s gathering as much money as he can to attain a certain goal that is yet to be disclosed), and Jude will never allow his wife to lack in anything materially.
He takes fidelity very seriously and I’m sure this has to do with something from his past (perhaps not he himself, but the consequences he witnessed because of those actions…..perhaps he was a consequence himself (?)). Any man who vows to be faithful to me and makes good on that promise, is TOP tier to me - as a divorcee of a spouse who was unfaithful to me- this means a LOT to me. And the fact that not only she is agreeable to the marriage, but he is too is HUGE. Jude views marriage, or love on the whole, as a curse. He’s come a loonnnng way, and I can’t wait for his route to be announced to see what exactly is the catalyst that motivates him to change.
Further, his promise to make their crazy, hell-like life one of happiness, along with all the other things he did just to make this wedding happen, is the cherry on top. It’s like the crescendo of his romantic side. And yes, I fully believe that Jude is a romantic, this event alone convinces me of that. Kate had told him in the event that he made her dreams that she’d told Ellis about getting married to come true, and while all he did was laugh at her while he pulled out there wedding contract, he didn’t deny it. He truly did make her dreams come true, it was in Jude’s style, but he did it in the most thoughtful, discreet, and sweetest way he could, and that to me is truly romantic.
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The bottom line: Jude is PEAK to me. And yes, these notes are lengthy, but I had a lot of fun doing this, and I haven't done this in a while. Nice to take a break from translating and delve into things more. Again, we can't be dogmatic on things, this is just for fun. Now to start writing my other word salad thesis *Laughs like Palpatine*
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steddietogo · 24 hours
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I had so much fun writing this for the @steddiesummerexchange!! @steddieasxshegoes hope you like this!
Word count: 8.9k
Read on ao3
— — — Steve finally turns to glare at Robin when one of the sunflower seeds she’s been throwing at him comes dangerously close to taking an eye out.
“Stop staring, dingus,” Robin laughs at him.
“I’m not staring,” he protests. Steve was merely glancing at the hot metal head on a leather couch at the back of the bar, nursing his drink all alone. “If you stopped paying attention to me for a second you’d have noticed the blonde making eyes at you from the bar,”
“Where?” Robin asks, whipping around embarrassingly fast.
“Rob! You don’t just–”
“Oh my god, she’s hot,”
“You’re so obvious,” He hisses back. “Go talk to her,”
“What? No way,”
“Hey, maybe you have more game in Rome–” And the next sunflower seed bounces straight off his forehead but before he could retaliate, there’s movement at the corner of his eyes.
“Shit, she’s coming over,” he says and watches the absolute panic taking over Robin’s face. “I need another drink, good luck.” He narrowly misses the kick aimed to his shin, slipping away to give them some privacy because, dear god, Steve knows he would never hear the end of it if Robin doesn’t get laid at least once during their entire trip to Italy.
The bar is cozy, decorated to look like the inside of catacombs with picture frames lining the walls and chandeliers hanging low from the ceiling. It's much better than the ones Robin brings them to, back in LA, almost entirely lit by neon signs and plays music a little too loud for his taste these days.
But here in Italy, Steve is not confined to the rigid schedule he follows to keep himself rested and alert enough for emergency situations. Steve makes his way to the counter and orders himself another drink, settling back to people watch– definitely not just to discreetly ogle the lone metal head looking entirely too bored to be sitting in a nice bar in Rome.
— — — Eddie can feel the eyes of the fluffy haired man on him from across the bar. Nothing he isn’t used to though. He might even be flattered by the attention if he wasn’t too busy feeling sorry for himself. He didn’t plan on sitting in a bar all alone, on what was supposed to be his honeymoon vacation, sans a ring on his finger. But no amount of being desired by the masses on stage has made his love life any better. No amount of admiration saved him from his cheating ex. He’s not heartbroken, just tired; that relationship was long over before the cheating even started. Rick was only ever concerned about the fame and attention he’d get throwing Eddie’s name around.
He would just be rotting away at home if it wasn’t for Chrissy refusing to let him cancel the whole trip and basically dragging him to the airport by his ear. He suspects it’s also to keep him far away from the whole press circus his ex no doubt started to stir by now. He just hopes they’d leave the boys from the band alone. He’d hate to drag them down with him.
Since landing in Rome the day before, Eddie had slept, ate, slept again and landed in a bar for a drink or two, trying to feel some semblance of normal again. Maybe Chrissy thought the Italian sun would magically reset Eddie to the optimistic idiot he once used to be, but he owed it to her to try at least. From where he’s sitting, two weeks felt like it’s an eternity away.
Eddie watches as the man leaves his seat and walks over to the bar by himself. He likes the way his button up stretches over his shoulders. He’s conventionally attractive in the boy next door kinda way. Pretty, even. Eddie hasn’t slept with a stranger since the beginning of his career when he’d gotten caught by paps doing the walk of shame back to his place. Since then he’d been a lot more careful with everyone he’s been associating with.
This one is cute though and Eddie may be tempted to break a few of his own rules. There is something about being alone and depressed in Italy that makes him want to throw caution to the wind and just do something impulsive. He’s feeling a little too restless and itching for some human connection. Very tempted to buy the cute guy a drink and see if he would follow him back to his stupid big honeymoon suite.
Besides, wasn’t that what Chrissy wanted for him? To forget Rick and to enjoy himself? She’d also say that it's not healthy to throw himself at the first pretty thing so soon after a breakup, but whatever, she’s not here with him.
Eddie feels, more than sees, as the stranger’s gaze lands on him one more time. The blonde that he came in with looks cozy sharing a couch with another woman, so no harm no foul, Eddie decides. He sweeps up his jacket and makes his way to the bar.
“Hi,” Eddie says. The cute guy startles at his sudden appearance by his side but his grin is nearly blinding. “I’m Eddie,”
“Hey,” he replies. “Steve,”
Steve, he learns, is on vacation with his best friend. After speaking to him for a bit, Eddie is about 70 percent sure Steve has no idea who he is. Just the way he prefers. He buys Steve a drink and they flirt a bit. Eddie likes the way Steve’s eyes crinkle when he smiles and how he constantly runs his fingers through his hair like Eddie makes him nervous. Unfortunately, before he can make a move, their little party is crashed by Steve’s companion. Eddie can’t help but feel a tiny bit annoyed.
“Oh my god, I need a drink,” The woman comes barreling between them.
“You okay there buddy?” Steve asks her and she grabs him by the shoulders and shakes.
“Oh shit, sorry, did I interrupt?” She asks, finally noticing his presence, funnily enough.
“Don’t worry about it,” he waves her off.
“I’m Robin,” She stuck her hand out.
“Hi Robin, you have lipstick on your face,” Her eyes widen and she scrambles to fix herself using the reflection in the mirror behind the bar, frowning when she finds nothing on her face.
“No I don’t,”
“Made you look,” Eddie grins.
She narrows her eyes at him. “You’re good,”
— — —
They get another round of drinks, Steve buys this time, and they move to a bigger table. Robin sticks to them like a cock blocking barnacle but after a while later, Eddie doesn’t mind anymore. She’s weird and funny in a refreshing way he doesn’t get to see everyday. Plus, Steve looks more at ease when she is by his side.
“So, Eddie,” Says Robin, “What brings you to Rome?”
“Well, you can’t call it a honeymoon if you don’t marry your cheating fiance, so,” Eddie shrugs, watching the slight alarm on both of their faces. “Guess its a solo trip now,”
“That sucks, man,” says Steve.
“It's whatever,” he shrugs.
“You know what? Fuck that motherfucker,” Robin says, wine sloshing dangerously close to the rim. “You’re gonna have the best solo honeymoon ever and he’s gonna be soooo jealous of you!” Robin is kind of a light weight, but it's nice to see someone else enraged on his behalf.
“Yeah,” Eddie says. “Fuck him,” And then he buys a round of shots. This isn’t the way he saw his evening going when he approached Steve, but Eddie isn’t complaining.
“This is so stupid, we’re gonna regret this in the morning,” Steve giggles, slumped so far down his seat only his face is visible above the table.
“Shit! I forgot!” Robin exclaims.
Eddie frowns. “What’s happening in the morning?”
“We’re going to Tuscany!” Steve says and Robin gasps suddenly, repeatedly slapping Steve on the arm, her eyes wide as dinner plates as she looks at Eddie.
“You should come with us!” She exclaims. “There’s enough room in the air bnb i'm sure, you can bunk with Steve,”
“Come with you to Tuscany?” Eddie asks, puzzled.
“Or Steve can just take the couch,”
“Hey!” Steve protests. “But yeah, it’ll be fun,” he says, turning his big hazel eyes back to Eddie looking so hopeful and expectant; and maybe a little too gone on the alcohol too.
So, really, you can’t blame Eddie for saying yes to a half baked plan that probably wasn’t even going to happen. He’s drunk and a pretty boy is asking him to follow him across Italy. Most likely, the two are going to wake up the next morning with no recollection of the night, or they're probably not even going to make it to their train anyways.
So Eddie says, “Fuck it. Let's do this!”
— — —
Turns out, a drunk Robin is no less a planner than a sober one. Eddie is woken up with his phone incessantly ringing at 10 am on the dot, his presence being demanded at breakfast. At least he feels a little bit better after seeing the other two looking as bad as he feels. Robin is wearing two sunglasses stacked on top of one another.
Packing is no hassle, thankfully, as Eddie never bothered to unpack in the first place. Being hungover for more than an hour on a train isn’t really fun. He eyes Steve and Robin happily curled up and dosing away at their seats as he spends the better half of the train ride to Florence trying not to yak up the cup of coffee and pastry he had choked down at breakfast. Wanye would have laughed and told him he has been spoiled by all the soft mattresses in his fancy hotel rooms. And he wouldn’t be wrong.
They spend twenty minutes ambling around the city, looking for a specific hole in the wall Steve was determined to visit, then fall face first into plates of pasta in ravenous hunger. It's chaotic, better than being holed up in his room with nothing to do. Eddie might even admit it was fun if you ask him tomorrow.
Once their plates are just short of licked clean, robin rummages through her cross body bag and pulls out a paper map, unfolding it into a cartoonishly large piece of paper. “Do you not have GPS in your phone?” Eddie asks, eyeing the map.
“You’re in a foreign country, Eddie, what if you lost your network? Do you want to die?” Steve says in a scarily accurate impression of Robin, then gets a bony elbow to the ribs.
Robin clears her throat dramatically, points at a part of the map and says, “We’re here right now,” Here, Eddie assumes, is Florence in the map since the lettering was so small and crowded together it was almost impossible to read. “And we’ll be taking a cab to an airbnb here, about thirty minutes away. It's like a big ass villa we’ll be sharing with a few other people and there’s like a big ass pool there too, so we can chill out over there. Then at seven, we have a wine tasting-slash-dinner at a vineyard.”
“Oooh we’re getting drunk again?” Eddie asks.
Robin enthusiastically replies, “Yup! We’re on vacation, baby!”
— — —
The villa is gorgeous. It’s up on a hill overlooking rows and rows of vineyards and trees and has a huge breakfast nook, living room and outdoor dining place and his first thought after stepping into the place was damn, Chrissy is going to be so jealous. The host is a friendly middle aged man with an accent so strong only Robin could mostly understand what he was saying.
The pool is a nice idea too. After their initial tour of the property, they change into pool-side appropriate wear and make their way downstairs. Eddie tosses his hair up and sinks into the water, letting his fingers prune in one corner with his shades on, watching Steve and Robin splashing about like a couple of toddlers. He doesn’t understand where those two get their unchecked energy reserve from, Eddie is so close to dozing away.
He turns to the woman a couple feet away trying and failing to read her book in the ruckus the two are making. “I don’t know them,” he says, though she probably saw them arrive at the pool together. She gives him a polite smile and goes back to trying to read.
The vineyard they go to for dinner is a walkable distance away, or so Steve says, and then it takes them half an hour to walk there. Which both him and Robin complain about, a lot. There’s a small group taking a short tour with them walking around in the vineyard, taking a few pictures. He sends some to Wayne and gets a thumbs up emoji back, which was the equivalent of a heartfelt hug from him in text.
Dinner is good, the food and the company. They are given tiny wine glasses and get refills as often as they want. Everyone takes full advantage of it. He even makes polite conversation with a few of the others in the groups. Steve looks especially pretty in the firelight with a rosy tint to his cheeks.
Eddie feels relaxed and so much lighter than he had in months when they stumble back to the villa, swaying and leaning against each other, giggling about stupid things. “I’ll see y'all bitches in the morning,” Robin bids them goodnight and Eddie and Steve crash into a pile on top of the two seater couch in their room.
“Hey,” Steve whispers. “I really don’t mind taking the couch you know,”
“What? No way, Steve. I don’t mind sharing, I can keep my hands to myself, you know,”
Steve snorts, mumbling something that sounded suspiciously like ‘if only’.
“What was that,” Eddie asks, raising his eyebrows.
“Oh, nothing,”
Eddie absentmindedly draws patterns over a knee thrown over his lap, the heat of his skin like a furnace under his palm. He can’t look away from wine stained lips and flushed cheeks as Steve smiles softly at him, inviting. His hazel eyes drop to his lips then back up again.
Eddie didn’t realize how close they are, their noses nearly brushing– Steve almost fully on top of his lap– it would be so easy to kiss him. He just has to tip his head up to press their lips together, so he does it.
Steve’s mouth feels as warm and inviting as it looks. Eddie lets him press his tongue between his lips, big hands cupping the back of his head keeping him there. Eddie takes it as permission to get a little more handsy, slipping his hands under Steve’s shirt.
Eddie feels himself melting into the cushions as Steve tilts his head into the kiss. He pulls back and Eddie has to stop himself before he does something pathetic like whine, or maybe chase after his mouth. “You wanna move this to the bed,” Steve asks, sounding as breathless as Eddie felt.
“Yeah, sweetheart,”
— — —
Eddie wakes up fully nude under the covers feeling warm and satiated. He listens to the birds chirping outside the window and the soft snores from the man stretched out beside him. He flips to his side, watching Steve sleeping on his stomach, his ribs expand and contract with each breath he takes. His back is littered with moles and freckles and Eddie with his sleepy brain wonders how long it would take to trace every one of them. Some of them disappear under the scar tissue twisting over the side of his torso, starting at his hip and spreading almost all the way to just under his rib cage. He leans in, lightly brushing his fingers just over the shiny, raised skin.
"It’s from a fire a few years ago," Steve says, slowly blinking sleep out of his eyes. And at Eddie's raised eyebrows, he elaborates, "I'm a firefighter. Robin too.”
“Shit,” Eddie replies, suddenly feeling more awake. “You just got like ten times hotter,” Steve snorts. “You have to wear a uniform right? Do you have any pictures?”
“What am I? Just a piece of ass to you?”
“A very hot piece of ass,” Eddie says, pulling himself up on top of Steve. “Don’t sell yourself short, Stevie” And he leans down to kiss him, morning breath and all. They get distracted for long enough that Robin comes thumping on their door to get them out of bed.
— — —
Breakfast is once again a steaming cup of coffee, fruits, and a fresh croissant. Eddie has had more fresh fruits in the past two days than the entire year combined. He was also having a very nice time happily appearing in public without fear of camera flashes or crazed fans. Feeling the sun on his skin, living his best life, as the kids would say. Eddie was wearing one of Steve’s shirts open over a band tee and canvas shorts. His usual wardrobe, consisting mostly of ripped jeans and leather jackets, wasn't the most comfortable in the sun.
There are only two other couples in the outdoor dining area of the airbnb. A pair of retirees and the other two possibly honeymooners by the way they were all over each other. Eddie briefly considers how if he hadn’t been with them, Steve and Robin would’ve also looked like a heterosexual couple, not codependent platonic soulmates having a vacation together. The thought makes him huff a laugh into his coffee. Steve raises his eyebrows at him in question from his seat beside him, and he just shakes his head.
Robin drops the folded paper map on the table once she’s done studying, steals a sip from Steve cup, then winces. “That's the one toxic dude bro trait you have,” she says, glaring at the offending cup of black coffee with no cream or sweetener in it. Eddie has to nod his head in agreement. Even Eddie doesn’t drink his coffee black.
“What? It's not that bad,” Steve tries to reason.
“It’s actually really horrible, you just don’t have taste buds anymore because you burnt them off, apparently.” Eddie chimes in.
“Nuh-uh, you aren’t allowed to team up like that, no way,” Steve protests. Robin sneaks a sip from Eddie’s cup.
“Holy shit, there is no coffee in this, it's just milk and sugar!”
“No, its not,”
“Yes, it is!”
“Okay, calm down, children. Robin, weren’t you just gonna tell us the plan for today?” Steve interrupts.
“Fine,” Robin huffs. “First we make a ten minute walk from here to the rental place for the Vespas, then were going to go to Pisa, then Siena, then San Gimignano if we have the time,”
“We’re renting Vespas? That’s the most touristy shit I’ve ever heard,” Eddie says.
“Eddie, we are tourists,”
“But like, couldn’t we just rent a cab or something?”
“Yeah, but where’s the fun in that?”
“I don’t have a motorcycle license,”
“That’s fine, you don’t need it,” Steve chimes in, “It's just like riding a bike,”
Eddie grumbles under his breath, stuffing another piece of bread in his mouth. Steve exchanges a look with Robin.
“Eddie,”
“Hmrph?”
“You know how to ride a bicycle, right?”
“I- I just never learned to, okay?” Robin snorts.
“That's okay, you can ride with me,” Steve smiles, nudging him.
Later on Eddie sends a video to Chrissy of the sprawling vineyards and him on the back of a ridiculous red Vespa and matching helmet, clinging tight to Steve as they sped down a cobblestone road.
— — —
Pisa is nice. There is a lot more climbing involved than Eddie had expected, and is grossly underprepared for it. The view from the top of the leaning tower is cool. Cool enough to climb up and down multiple narrow stairs? Eddie isn’t sure. Steve and Robin barely break a sweat beside Eddie who is fighting for his life– maybe he should listen to Chrissy and cut down on the cigarettes– the damn firefighter stamina.
They take many dorky touristy pictures of them trying to hold up the leaning tower which he knows would make Chrissy laugh. Eddie does his best to occasionally answer the barrage of questions thrown his way after Chrissy sees his messages. She’s mostly just happy that Eddie’s having fun and isn’t alone. She also has a few questions about the sandy blonde hair woman in the pictures with him.
Before they set off to Siena, Steve pulls out a bottle of sunscreen and insists everyone reapply– then acts all affronted when Eddie says he wasn’t wearing any to begin with. His ass feels just about flattened after the almost two hour ride to Siena. They have lunch at another nice spot, walk around taking a million pictures of the Duomo, and climb more stairs to Eddie’s dismay, which Robin finds hilarious.
— — —
“So,” Robin says, “Eddie.” Steve groans. “That bad huh?”
Robin and Steve are sitting in the shade of a nice big tree in a park, Eddie having gone to hunt down food and water for them. His spirits are still high for someone who looked so close to passing out at the top of the leaning tower.
“He’s only the hottest, funniest dude I’ve met in like years probably, no big deal,” Steve throws an arm over his eyes. “Face it, Robs, I’m just cursed to never find love.” Robin rolls her eyes at his dramatics.
“Just ask for his number, dingus,” She says, like it's obvious.
Steve sits up. “I can’t, it’s probably like, just a fun vacation fling for him. And–” He continues before Robin can interrupt. “He just got out of a serious relationship, I can’t ask now, it's too soon,”
“It does even have to be like, ‘I wanna date you please give me your number’, It can be like, ‘we should keep in touch, let's exchange numbers’,” Steve makes a face in response.
Thankfully before Robin can attempt to change his mind further, Eddie comes trudging across the park towards them. “M’lady, M’lord,” he offers the paper bag of pastries to them, on one knee.
“M’dork,” Robin replies and Eddie throws himself backwards on the ground, pretending to get shot.
“Why do you wound me so, fair maiden,” He wails rolling around in the grass, making her snort and Steve complains about getting grass stains on his shirt.
— — —
Eddie almost falls to his knees and begs for mercy when he’s rudely awaken at 5 fucking am and Robin tells him that they will be spending yet another four hours on a train to Rapallo to yet another airbnb. He tells her that she and Steve are single handedly funding the entire organization. Robin tells him to shut up and drink his milk.
“There isn’t much walking,” Steve promises him as he coaxes Eddie from bed. “We’ll just swim in the ocean, drink and relax.” After breakfast they make their way to the train station. Thankfully, this time Eddie manages to pass out for a good amount of time during the train ride only waking to blearily change trains.
He’s well rested by the time they make it to their airbnb. They get ready for a beach day, then it's Vespa 2 electric boogaloo as they rent a couple for the day to get to the beach and back. Eddie shouts “Liar!” from the back seat when Steve tells him the beach is twenty minutes away. Steve argues, technically he wasn’t lying since they aren’t walking.
The beach, unfortunately for Eddie, is a lot more packed than he had expected. It puts him on edge, makes him feel like he might get recognised. He hadn’t realized how Steve’s shirt felt like armor the day before. No one was expecting Eddie Munson to be wearing a striped button up and canvas shorts. But having his tattoos out in the open feels like he was asking to be caught. So he swipes Robin’s orange cover up with little pom poms on the hem the second she discards it and tucks his hair under a sunhat.
The wonder twins are busy in the middle of a sandcastle building competition– which they asked Eddie to be the judge of– like little kids. He sits back and watches people with their friends and family, the two dorks in front of him fighting for sand at the same place like there isn’t sand anywhere else on the beach. He spots boats docked on the other side of the beach and gets an idea.
“Hey guys, I’ll be right back,”
— — —
Steve lays on his beach towel, eyes closed and listening to music on his headphones. Robin was off fucking around in the water with another cute woman she struck up a conversation with.
Eddie rushed off saying he was going to get them something to drink but Steve gets the impression that it's just because he wasn’t one for crowded places, though he didn’t seem too uncomfortable yesterday when they were going around Tuscany. He seemed to shrink into himself when they reached the beach, looking vaguely nauseous when he was sitting under the umbrella all covered up.
He wonders if he should go look for him and make sure he is doing okay, he’s taking a little too long for Steve’s comfort. Or maybe the queue is just really that long since the beach is crowded and Steve is being an overbearing mother hen like Robin sometimes reminds him that he has a tendency for.
Steve starts to slowly doze listening to the chattering all around him and the sound of the waves in the background of his playlist when he feels a shadow descend over him. He opens his eyes to find Eddie standing over him, still in Robin cover up– sans drinks– looking a little too pleased with himself. “Pack your bags,” he tells Steve. “And get Robin,”
Steve scrunches up his face in confusion. “Pack up? We just got here,” Steve yanks on Eddie’s hand and catches him on his lap when he goes down yelping, the sun hat knocked off his head.
“We have much better places to be Stevie, believe me,” he says cryptically, throwing his arms around him.
“You’re not making any sense, dude,”
“I rented us a boat,” Eddie says, grinning.
“A what?”
“A boat. You know? Those things floating over there in the ocean?” he points like he’s explaining to a child seeing a boat for the first time. Dick, Steve thinks fondly.
“When did you do that?”
“Like five minutes ago,” Steve wants to wipe the stupid grin off his stupid face so he leans in and kisses him. It doesn’t really work, Eddie’s still high on his new boat procurement adventure. He tugs in Steve’s hair, pulling him back.
“Come on, we’re losing daylight,” he insists.
“It's not even noon yet,”
— — —
Robin seems very excited by this new development, basically bouncing all the way to where Eddie leads them to a big boat. She brings along her new friend from the beach with them, a curly haired Spanish brunette– Go Robin, Steve thinks– though the boat Eddie had picked had a capacity for more than just four people.
The captain is a funny middle aged guy who’s happy to let them play music as loud as they want. He shows them around the coast and then stops further into the ocean where there are other boats and yachts some distance from them. Steve, Robin and her new companion waste no time jumping into the ocean and Eddie finally looks relaxed.
A little while later, Steve clambers back into the boat in his swimming trunks, sea water dripping from his hair. His shoulders are already turning a deeper shade of tan. He joins Eddie lounging under the sun, laying his dripping head on his shoulder. Eddie traces a finger through the droplets doting his arm.
"Enjoying yourself?" Eddie asks and Steve hums happily.
"Kinda feel like I'm seventeen again," He says.
"Oh? You were galavanting around Italy in high school, Stevie?” Eddie grins at him, teasing.
"Mhm. Summer after junior year, I got brutally dumped,” He explains. “Kinda deserved it though, I was a little bitch in high school," Then there’s a glint in Eddie's eyes like he’s imagining Steve in a preppy outfit and the ridiculous way he used to style his hair.
"My parents brought me along for their trip and their friends has a gay son, though I don’t think they knew he was gay or they wouldn’t have let me hang out him otherwise," Steve thinks of Andrew sometimes and all the awkward fumbling they had done when they would sneak into each other’s rooms at night– something Robin calls his ‘Bi-awakening’. “So yeah, I left for the vacation straight and came back bi,”
"That is so trust fund baby core, holy shit," Eddie says, and Steve snorts.
"Was a trust fund baby. Past tense," He clarifies.
"Hm, what happened then?"
"I mean, I already knew my parents were homophones but hey, at least they waited till I finished high school to kick me out,” He shrugs, feeling embarrassed the second he finishes spewing his whole story.
“I’m sorry your parents suck,” Eddie throws his arms around Steve and squeezes him until he laughs. Steve has always been an oversharer, a trait that had put off a lot of his past partners, unfortunately. Eddie is a good listener. He doesn’t seem too bummed out by his little trip down memory lane. But then, when did Steve start thinking of Eddie along the same line as the people from his past relationships?
“Whatever. They were really just cramping my style,”
“Yeah, I bet you looked real bad in those starched shirts and designer suits,” Eddie says, sounding like he really doesn’t mean it.
"Come get in the water with me," Steve says and Eddie whines in protest. "What? You don't know how to swim too?"
"I know how to swim!" He exclaims a bit too defensively. "I just don't want to get my hair wet," he pouts.
"You don't have to get your hair wet," He pulls Eddie up, "I’ll protect your hair, come on,"
Steve dives in first, watching Eddie carefully lower himself into the water just enough to keep his head above. "See? All good,"
He wraps his arms around Steve's shoulders, pulling him in for a salty kiss.
"CANNONBALL!"
"Rob, wait!" It was too late. Robin crashed into the water, way too close to them, sending a huge splash into the two, drenching them to the tip of their heads.
"Noooo," Eddie moans, looking like a drowned rat with his bangs plastered to his forehead. Robin's maniacal cackling reaches them as she surfaces. "She's so mean to me," he whines, hiding his face in Steve's neck.
"Aww poor baby," Steve coos, trying to hold back his laughter. "I'll help you wash your hair later, okay?"
"Promise?"
"Promise,"
— — —
Steve does help wash Eddie’s hair, though showering together ends up wasting more water than they were supposed to be saving on accounts of wandering hands. When they step out of the bathroom clean and loose limbed, Robin is on the couch with the TV on full volume, takes one look at their faces and says “Yuck,”
Eddie points at her and says, “Homophobe,”
They decide to order in for the night. Robin hooks up her (Steve’s actually) Netflix account to the TV and they argue on which movie to watch until their dinner arrives, then pass out in a puppy pile twenty minutes into the movie.
— — —
Thankfully, their train to Milan the next day is at a much more reasonable timing. Eddie still whines about having to move again. They make it by mid day and explore the city some more until it's time for dinner.
Eddie feels a pang when he thinks that he’d be saying goodbye to the two in less than a day. Which is dramatic, even for him. He’d barely known them for a week, yet he feels himself clinging to Steve harder and starting arguments just to annoy Robin more often.
When they go to bed, he falls asleep with Steve curled over his back and their fingers intertwined.
— — —
In the morning, Steve joins him on the couch in the balcony where Eddie is people watching through the railing with a cup of coffee. Steve and Robin are leaving soon to catch their flight back home and Eddie’s all packed up to get back to his luxury honeymoon suite in Rome, all alone. The prospect of another week alone in a foreign country feels more daunting than it had been in the beginning of his trip.
Eddie feels like the end of the week snuck up on him. He didn’t expect to like being in Italy so much, though he suspects that has more to do with the company than the country itself. Steve sits so close to him that he’s almost fully leaning on Eddie's shoulder, he’s going to miss his weight and his warmth, the easy way he holds himself near other people like he belongs in everyone’s space.
“So,” Steve says, their position reminds Eddie of the first night he kissed Steve, tipsy on wine, heart fluttering in his chest like butterfly wings. He wants to pull him in and kiss him again.
“So,” Eddie parrots.
“I guess this is it, huh?” Eddie hopes he isn’t imagining the hint of melancholy gleaming in his hazel eyes, he wants selfishly for Steve to miss him too.
“I had fun,” Eddie smiles. It takes effort.
“I’m glad,” Steve says, sounding so sincere. He tucks a stray curl behind Eddie’s ear, leans in to slot their lips together one last time. Eddie takes it eagerly, opening his mouth to him and happily goes along when Steve pulls him into his lap.
They say their goodbyes after breakfast and Eddie watches them get in a cab and drive away from him forever.
— — —
Steve stows their luggage away in the overhead compartment and plops down onto his seat, Robin engrossed in looking through the inflight movie list beside him. He drops his forehead on Robin's shoulder. “You doing okay over there?”
“Mhm,”
“It's okay to not be okay, you know,”
He lets out a watery laugh, feeling pathetic. “Its so stupid,”
“No it's not,” She pokes his forehead. “Don’t be mean to my best friend,”
“I think maybe I should’ve just sucked it up asked for his number,”
Robin huffs, “See, I can’t even say ‘I told you so’ when you look so sad,”
“Yeah, whatever, it's too late now. He didn’t ask either,” Steve reasons with himself.
“Hey, maybe you’ll run into him one day and he’d be like, your next door neighbor or something,”
“This isn’t a movie, Robs,” He sighs. “And I know all my neighbors already,”
“There, there,” She says, patting his head.
— — —
Eddie naps for a few hours, then gets a cab to take him to the train station. Time moves at a glacial pace. Eddie slumps on a bench and scrolls through instagram to pass time. Somehow his feed is full of cats running around causing chaos, cats in silly outfits, funny cat meme edits. And he thinks maybe he should get a cat. A black one, and he can name it Ozzy. Or Aragon. Maybe a cat would make him feel less lonely.
Eddie is about to close the app and go get something to eat when he sees it. It's a blurry picture of two men kissing on a balcony. The angle looks like it was taken from street level, but the tattoos and long hair is unmistakable. Fuck.
The picture already has more than half a million likes. He loathes to think how many other pages it has graced. And the comments were worse.
g3rry_ Hasn’t even been two weeks since the breakup news came out and he’s already with a new guy…
parkouch_ Smells like infidelity hmmm
gin_titanic Poor Rick :(
Corrodedjeff He should just leave the band at this point smh
RickWorld00 Anyone know who the other guy is?
Dusty_Hen05 What the fuck what the FUCK
— — —
He calls Chrissy in a panic.
“Did you see it?” is the first thing she asks him. He doesn’t answer as much as he lets out a high pitched noise like a kettle.
“Chrissy, what the fuck?”
“I know, I know,” She whines. “I’m trying to do damage control here, but Rick fucking posted a tweet saying he’s ‘taking time off from the public eye’ during this ‘trying time’ and now everyone is siding with him,”
“That bitch,”
“How’s Steve taking it?” Chrissy asks.
“I wouldn’t know, Chrissy, he’s on a plane right now on the way back to his real life,” He huffs. “Shit, he’s going to be so blindsided by this, I don’t think he even knew who I am,”
“You didn’t tell him?” she asks. “Shit, Eddie,”
“Book me flight babe, I wanna come back as soon as I can,” It takes some arguing and pleading to make Chrissy book a different flight straight from Milan. But she does it in the end and Eddie hopes he hasn’t screwed things up forever.
— — —
Eddie goes straight to Chrissy’s place from the airport. He has a hell of a time dodging camera flashes and finally makes it to the car she sent in one piece. He falls into her embrace as soon as she opens her door.
“Aww, Eddie, you okay?”
“Ahuh, never better,”
His eyes feel dry and sand from the lack of sleep. Chrissy shoves him into bed and threatens him to get some rest before they can have a serious conversation about everything. Eddie sleeps fitfully, but it's better than nothing. The sun is setting when he shuffles back into the living room. Chrissy hears his stomach grumbling from all the way across the room and they order take out.
“So, Steve,”
Eddie sighs heavily. “I fucked up Chris,” he says, stuffing a springroll in his mouth.
“Someone took a picture of you through your balcony, I hardly think that's your fault, babe,”
“I’m pretty sure he didn’t even know who I was, Chris. Like, how jarring is it going to be for him to just wake up one day and find out some people out there are accusing him of being a home wrecker just for kissing a random dude on a vacation?”
“It is a fucked up situation, I’m not going to lie, and Rick’s really been enjoying playing the victim,” she grumbles. “You know, it really would’ve helped if you had gotten the guy's contact details.” She didn’t need to tell him that twice. “We need to release a statement as soon as possible but we really just need to wait it out. There isn’t much we can realistically do,”
“I feel horrible,” he groans.
“Again. Not your fault Eddie,”
“I think I’ll lose my mind if I don’t find him somehow,” Chrissy snorts.
“Dick that good, huh?” She snickers.
“Gotta admit, Chrissy, it was a pretty exceptional dick.” Eddie sighs wistfully and Chrissy giggles.
“How are you gonna find him?”
“Maybe a PI? Is that too creepy? How many Steves are there in the US do you reckon?” He’s only half joking. Chrissy rolls her eyes and kicks him out of her house so he can go get some proper sleep.
— — —
Eddie takes a hot shower once he gets home, then is immediately reminded of Steve in the shower with him and his big hands holding him against the cold tiles. Then the quick shower turns into a much longer one.
Once he’s changed into his pjs, he pads down to the kitchen to make himself a hot cup of tea then settles in bed with his phone. He isn’t tired enough to go to sleep yet so he switches to a random channel on his TV and scrolls through the pictures they had taken in Italy, zooming in on Steve’s face more times he can count like a love sick– love? Really? –dumbass.
It's 2 am when he hears the sound of his front door opening and shutting that puts him on alert. With shaking hands he grabs his baseball bat from the closet (which Wayne left behind, Eddie wasn’t a sports kinda guy) making his way to the staircase, hoping and praying he’d imagined the whole thing and he’s not actually getting robbed. Or worse– someone has leaked his address online and someone broke in to see him.
It's too dark to see properly, but a figure is climbing up the stairs towards him, a little too fast for his comfort. Eddie swings, his bat connects with the stranger’s face with a crunch and he goes tumbling down the stairs with a pained shout. Eddie rushes to get the light switch and–
“EDDIE!” Rick was on the floor, clutching his bleeding nose. “Shit, I think I broke something,”
“What the fuck are you doing here, Rick?” Eddie screeches. “How did you get in?”
"What are you doing here, aren’t supposed to be in Italy, enjoying our honeymoon,” He spits back. The fucking audacity of this dude.
“Have you been breaking into my house all week?” Rick stays quiet and that's enough of an answer for Eddie. “I’m calling an ambulance,” The 911 operator tells him not to move him, not that Eddie would touch him with a ten foot pole.
“Who was that guy you were with?” Rick asks from the floor, still clutching onto his knee.
“I’m sorry, how is that any of your business?” Eddie snaps back, full of ire.
“Because,” Rick says, his expression pleading in the way Eddie just realizes he always looks like when he’s about to tell him how sorry he was and how nothing was his fault, actually. “I still love you, Eddie,”
Eddie laughs in his face, getting a tiny bit of satisfaction from the way Rick’s face falls. “Seriously? You broke up with me because I was too clingy to open our relationship and you see me with another dude one time and you can’t take it, huh?”
“I made a mistake–”
“Yes you fucking did, now deal with the consequences. You’re not my problem anymore,” The doorbell saves Eddie from the crocodile tears welling up in Rick’s eyes. How did he even put up with this for two years?
However, Eddie isn’t done with surprises for the day, it would seem. The door swings open, and there stands Steve– who looks just as shocked to see him standing at the doorstep– with Robin and another older dude he doesn’t recognise.
“Hey!” the older dude exclaims, pointing at Eddie. “It’s the guy!”
— — —
Steve has had a hell of a time since he and Robin had touched down. The second he had switched his airplane mode off he was bombarded with hundreds, possibly thousands of notifications. 72 missed calls from just Dustin and more cryptic messages from the party group chat– something about coffins? Did someone die? Steve didn’t understand.
Dustin hadn’t been much help when he called him back, babbling something about a front man of a rock band for some reason, but that was only until Robin pulled up a picture of him and Eddie kissing. Except, it was posted on some random instagram page he had never heard of instead of her camera roll, with the caption ‘Corroded Coffin frontman Eddie Munson spotted in Milan, Italy with his new beau’. And then it clicked.
His notifications continued to flood for the rest of the day, friends and coworkers were asking him about it. His high school acquaintances suddenly wanted to know how he was doing and wanted to catch up for ‘old time sake’. Yeah right, Tommy. The worst part was probably the comments nitpicking everything about his appearance and the random threatening DMs he’d receive occasionally.
Robin was quite most of the ride back home, but that was only because she was doing a deep dive into Eddie Munson and his band’s history. The only thing she said to him was, “I know many of their songs, Steve, and Dustin and Mike literally have a poster up like every wall in their house. How did we not know this?”
He slept fitfully, the adrenaline and confusion seemingly overriding the jet lag. The last straw was when his mom tried to contact him the next morning after eight whole years, just to berate him about their family name. “In public Steven? Really?” Steve didn’t have the energy to argue that a balcony is not a public space. There was little satisfaction in hanging up on her mid sentence.
He called up Argyle and begged to swap with his night shift so he'd at least have Robin by his side when dealing with all of it. Not that he thought any of their co-workers would be mean about it, he and Robin aren’t even the only queer people in the station. Besides, Captain Hopper wouldn’t let homophobic behavior slide given that he has a gay step son of his own that he loves very much.
Steve had tried and moderately succeeded in getting some sleep before his shift. Night shifts were moderately less hectic than morning ones– though sometimes it just depends on the night itself– so it opens up more time for ribbing from his colleagues
He had even walked in on the rookie Chance showing Dmitri, the Russian dude Hopper had history with (what kind? Nobody knows), videos of Corroded Coffin singles and performances, and Steve had turned on his heels and walked away.
The call had been a welcome distraction as he buckled himself in the back of the ambulance that Dmitri drove, with Robin. “I like your new boyfriend, he’s loud,” Dmitri had called back at him.
“He’s not my boyfriend, man,” Steve had sighed.
“But he does wish he was,” Robin the traitor had chimed in and then sat unperturbed by his glaring. That was merely minutes before he had rung the bell to the house he’s currently standing before, Eddie on the other side of the threshold.
“W-we got a call about someone getting hurt?” He stutters out, remembering his training and Eddie quietly steps aside to let them in.
— — —
Eddie barely processes shit. His monkey brain is just going Steve! Steve is here! In his sexy firefighter uniform! Stevie! Until Rick spots him and loudly goes, “Man, really?” Which clearly confuses Steve as his face does the whole, brows jumping up and eyes widening look that conveyed the message ‘What?’ without him having to say a word.
“Rick, shut up,” Eddie snaps. If Steve recognises that name, he doesn't show it.
Robin checks him out and splints his ankle, ruling out any serious injury in his hips or spine, except for maybe a nasty bruise from rolling down a flight of stairs. They load him on the gurney, then the back of the ambulance, working quietly as Eddie stood around fidgeting. He really just wants to talk to Steve about the whole thing, apologize for the whole mess.
“H-hey, Steve?” Eddie says and then almost falters when Steve’s attention is on him. “I just wanted to apologize about the whole thing man, you don’t deserve all that,”
“No, you don’t have to, it's not your fault,” Steve chuckles humorlessly. “Honestly, I just feel kind of stupid about it now that I think about it–” The older dude claps a hand over his shoulder, interrupting him.
“We gotta go buddy,” He says in a heavy Russian accent.
“Do you want a ride to the hospital?” Steve asks.
Eddie notices Rick looking at him expectantly from inside the ambulance. Ew. But he could bear it for Steve. He just needs to talk to Steve and Eddie’s scared that if he lets him go right now he might never see him again. So he gets in.
— — —
Steve wishes he would stop apologizing. Eddie would say ‘sorry’ and his brain would automatically translate it to ‘sorry people think we’re dating’.
“It's okay Eddie, I get it,” Steve sighs. “It's not even like we’re together, is it? I’m sure everyone would just forget about it in a while and you can move on–”
"I don’t want to forget about you," Eddie’s face is all scrunched up, “Shit, Steve I thought I was protecting you from the shitstorm that’s my life, since everything I touch turns to dust anyways, I thought maybe I could spare you if I left you alone,” He sighs, “But I failed in that regard too, I guess.”
"But–" Steve's jaw feels like it's on the floor, "Eddie, you don’t need to protect me, okay? I can take care of myself,” Eddie looks like a kicked puppy, all sad and hurt. Steve just wants him to smile again. “I mean, the amount of times we actually kissed in public, I’m just really surprised that was the picture that ended up online,” Eddie barks out a laugh.
“I don’t want you to think that I don’t want you, Steve.” He says, his gaze intense and pleading. Steve is rendered speechless. “I grew up in a trailer park with my uncle. I sold weed in high school and played dnd. It took me three tries to even graduate highschool. I'm not a good person, i'm nothing special, I don't run into burning buildings and rescue kittens from trees or whatever, and I know I kind of ruined everything before it even started but please, please just give me one chance, Stevie–"
“Are you seriously doing this right now? In front of me?” Rick interrupts, and Steve is not a bad dude who’d hurt people who can’t defend themselves but he really wants to smack the disgusted look on his stupid face. Robin flaps a hand shushing him, watching him and Eddie like they’re on her TV screen instead. Even Dmitri is quiet, no doubt listening in.
“Would you like to go on an actual date with me? Please?” Eddie finishes.
Steve is stunned to say the least. He had been distracted for most of the ride, he didn't even realize that they had stopped until the door of the ambulance swung open, startling Robin too. Then he’s being pulled away to do his job, leaving a distraught looking Eddie behind.
— — —
Eddie paces hidden behind the ambulance bay, burning through his third cigarette of the hour– which once upon a time wouldn't even be worth noting, but he's trying to do better here, goddamnit— thinking of what an idiot he'd acted like.
What was he thinking? Asking Steve, a good guy with a normal life, without paps shoving cameras in his face, to be with him. Eddie Munson, the wildcard, the drama.
Eddie can’t go anywhere without someone criticizing everything he does. Ironically enough, that was one of the main reasons he was so anxious to leave his small town home behind. So much for anonymity. The constant judgment is the one thing he hated so much about constantly being in the public eye. He’d love to say that he doesn’t care and that it never bothers him, but the truth is that it gets fucking exhausting how people already have preconceived notions about him everywhere he goes. He doesn’t want that for Steve.
He's never known peace a day in his life. Why would Steve willingly through his life to the wolves just to be with him? It was selfish of Eddie to even ask that of him. He’s put him through enough shit as it is with the picture and all the harassment from his so-called fans. He hates it. This was nothing like how he dreamed his life would be at just twenty eight when he was in high school.
Eddie knows he’s spiraling. He’s being over dramatic and catastrophizing, as Chrissy would say. God, he wishes she were to talk some sense into him. Yet he can't seem to move away from that spot, waiting for Steve to come out through the doors, he can't leave without seeing this through. If he gets brutally rejected, so be it. But on the off chance Steve might still want this? The idea that he might be worth giving up a little bit of peace for, seems way too tantalizing.
The doors to the ER open. Steve spots him and jogs over, the look of relief clear on his face. “Hey, you’re still here,” he says. “I was hoping I wouldn’t miss you,”
“Yeah, um, everything alright in there?” he asks– he doesn’t really care.
“Sure, yeah, Rick’s going to be okay,”
“So, um,” Eddie trails off, suddenly at a loss on what to say.
“Are you going to give me your number then?” Steve asks.
“What?”
“You did ask me on a date, right? Unless you weren’t serious about it. In that case–”
“No! No, I was serious, I swear.” Eddie can’t keep the disbelief off his voice. “You’re saying yes? After everything that happened?”
“Eddie, I really like you,” says Steve. “And I’ve read so many shitty things people have said about you,” Eddie cringes a little, he knows how vile those tabloids can get. “But that was not the man I had known this past week and I want a real chance to get to know you, if that’s okay,”
Before he can stop himself Eddie is careening into Steve, crashing their lips together in a desperate kiss that Steve reciprocates with the same intensity.
“That is so okay,” Eddie breathes. “Love that plan,”
“So,” Steve grins. “Number?”
———
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